WTF Wednesday Teeny Bikini Moment

Well it's that time again, folks. You know, that time of the week when we're all just standing around a little dazed and confused from the midweek mind melt thinking, 'WTF?!'  And since we're thinking that anyway, it's the perfect time to share this WTF Wednesday Teeny Bikini Moment.

Now I fully realize that this is America, and we're all pretty much free to wear any damn kind of bikini we want. But in the words of my grandma....just because you CAN do something doesn't mean you SHOULD.  And I couldn't agree more. No other words come to mind here. Only one thing fits [and it ain't that bikini].

WTF?!

WTF Wednesday Fanny Packin

Thanks to my friend, Lori for finding and sharing this on FB. It's perfect for your WTF Wednesday.

I can't believe that guy still wears a fanny pack!

WTF Wednesday - Cake Fail

So what happens when a little girl requests a birthday cake from a local grocery store bakery, one that she wants to look like a doll in a dress?

WTF, man?! You had one job. Now see what you've done.

On the plus side, at least it gave me something for your WTF Wednesday post. :)

WTF Wednesday Meets Murphys Law

I never really thought I'd be cross-categorizing my posts, but hey, that's just the kind of gal I am. And while this blog post didn't really occur to me when I was crying--yes, CRYING--over a broken cutting board today, it will at least serve as a reminder that Murphy's Law can never be escaped. 

Even on WTF Wednesday.

So I was in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner: rice, green beans, and pork roast. It smelled yummy. And I was really hungry. So I can only assume that it was my always-overactive appetite and food-fueled excitement that led to the catastrophe at hand.

I lifted the lid off of my cast iron pot that contained said pork roast. 

I moved my hand to the right of the stove, toward the cutting board that always sits on the counter there, with the lid in hand--so that I could put the lid on the cutting board. It was hot, after all, and I needed to protect the counter.

Well apparently that was the precise moment that Mr. Murphy decided rear his ugly head just long enough to make me to drop the cast iron lid...breaking my cutting board.

So what's the big deal, you ask? It's only a cutting board, right?

Um, No. A thousand emphatic and pathetically tear-covered NO's!

This was my only cutting board--and it was a cutting board I've had for over 27 years. It was made by Corning--an all white rectangle of kitchen counter-protecting perfection. It used to look like this:

Until I dropped that stupid cast iron lid onto it and silently screamed in what seemed like slow motion...WTF?!

I can't even show you the AFTER photo--it's too horrific to share. It was just lying there, shattered into shards of white Corning shrapnel...as Mr. Murphy sat in the corner and laughed his evil and deeply disturbed ass off. 

Oh yes, I cried. And I'm not ashamed. That cutting board has a history. They don't even make those anymore! Which of course is why I'm bidding on another one on Ebay as I type this! I loved that cutting board. It was perfect, and never scratched or anything. Even my mom loved it--she commented on it often when she would visit me. And on more than one occasion she mentioned wishing she had one.

Which reminds me: last year the Hubs and I went to a garage sale. We've been to a lot of garage sales over the years, and in all these years I never, ever, not even once, saw another of these Corning cutting boards at one. I always figured that if I did, I'd get it and send it to my mom. But I never saw one. Until. Last. Year. I actually cried at that garage sale too--simply because my mom passed away in the year prior, so I had no need to find one anymore. And I just couldn't understand why I would finally, after all of these years, find another Corning cutting board AFTER my my mom passed away. Something tells me that not-so-dear old Murphy had something to do with that too. Sick bastard.

Anyway, my aged-to-perfection, pristine white Corning cutting board is now dead and awaiting a proper burial [also known as trash pick-up day]. But if I'm lucky, I'll have a brand new, old Corning cutting board in my position again soon, with a little help from Ebay and company. The new one probably won't be white though. I couldn't find an all white one, but I did find one that has a little bird motif on it. It looks like this:

And why that one, you might ask? Because that little motif is the exact motif that my mom's very first set of Corning Ware had. So whenever I use it, it will make me think of her...instead of this awful WTF Wednesday, brought to my kitchen courtesy of Murphy's Law.

Take that, Mr. Murphy.

Gone to the Dogs

So my granddaughter, Destiny and I were watching TV yesterday when a Barbie commercial came on that I hadn't seen before. Destiny got all excited and kept saying, "Grandma, I really want that, so much." At first I thought it was just a new Barbie, but that's not really what the commercial was for. No, it was for Barbie's dog.

A dog that poops. WTF?!

That's right. A dog that poops. Now maybe this pooping Barbie dog isn't even new. I don't know. But seriously, is it necessary to have a pooping Barbie dog? I mean, I'm trying to imagine the meeting that went down at Mattel. You know, the Suits are all sitting around debating what Barbie really needs in her ever so busy and plastic-filled Barbie world, and Suit #1 says, "hey, how about a dog?"

And Suit #2 says, "yeah, maybe, but that's so banal...so been there, done that. Barbie can't have just a typical dog. It needs to be something...more."

So Suit #3 says, "Hey, I know, let's make the dog poop!"

And all the Suits cheer in unison...

And thus, Tanner the pooping Barbie dog is born. And you gotta love the marketing. "When Tanner has to go to the bathroom, Barbie cleans it up with the magnetic scooper."

Yeah, as if Barbie would lower herself to scoop up dog poop. She might pop a boob or something.

Maybe I'm just getting old and cynical. But in this day and age, when we can open and close our garage doors from 300 miles away (there's an app for that!), I just think we're a wee bit more evolved than a pooping Barbie dog. I dunno. Call me crazy.

But I do know one thing: if you buy one of those pooping dogs for your child or grandchild, it'll all be shits and giggles (pun intended) until those little balls of plastic poop get lost. And then your child is going to freaking lose it.

Which is exactly what Mattel wants, so you'll have to buy more! And then you'll be calling them up saying, "Hey, Mattel, I need to buy more dog poop." And they're going to just laugh themselves all the way to the bank, my friends.

Well played, Mattel. Well played indeed.

WTF Not to Wear

I'll freely admit, I am no fashionista. I wear what's comfortable and practical (and affordable). Sweat pants are a winter staple for me, and so is flannel. I don't own designer clothes. I'm not remotely stylish. I do, however, have a little something called class. And taste. Clearly, this gal does NOT have those two words in her vocabulary.

WTF?!

It must be Wednesday.

I can really only say this: just because you CAN wear flesh-colored leggings, does NOT mean that you SHOULD wear flesh-colored leggings.

'Nough said.

What's In a Name

After joining in a linky party on my last post, I was reading some other bloggers' posts and one inspired me to check out my name on the Urban Dictionary site. I checked out 'Tina,' since that is the name I go by most often (even though my given name is Christina--but I only ever got called that by my mom...when I was in trouble). And according to the Urban Dictionary, Tina means several things.

Apparently, my name is slang for Crystal Meth. So I guess you need to be a little suspicious if any of your friends say they're gonna meet "Tina" at the club this weekend. Word to the wise: they may not be talking about moi. On the plus side, this does make me think of a line from one of my favorite movies, Pitch Perfect.

Fat Amy is the best. And I can't wait for Pitch Perfect 2, which is due in 2015. Prepare to be pitch slapped again! Yay!

But back on topic...Tina also means "little one, a leader, independent, strength, creative, and original." One of those things is completely inaccurate. I'll leave it to you to guess which one.

I looked a bit further on the U.D. and found something else related to my name. Example:

"You just got Tina'd."

Meaning: When a girl gives you a "WTF?" look.

So, when someone gives you this look:

You've just been Tina'd. So yeah. Think of me.

I'm not even gonna tell you what Tinahead means. Just use your imagination. 

And then there's Tina Bong Bong, which means someone who is "totally crazy random, mad as a box of frogs, but loveable, likeable, sincere, and special." I guess my conundrum with that description is: how did the box of frogs get mad in the first place?

Ahem.

That was an interesting bit of education for your Friday, courtesy of the Urban Dictionary. But since they were missing "Tinalicious" from their database, I submitted it to them and it's pending review. It'd be wrong of them not to add it, don't you think? If they refuse to, they are soooo gonna get Tina'd.

WTF Kitty

Just a quick picture post today for your WTF Wednesday. It just fits.

I feel exactly like that sometimes. 

Exactly.

You Forgot Your Pants

When I saw this photo the other day, four things came immediately to mind:

1. I wonder if this person shops at Wal Mart.
2. This could be the poster child for What NOT to Wear.
3. I have to use this for WTF Wednesday.

And 4. You forgot your pants, lady.

What Dafuq Wednesday

OK, for this week's WTF Wednesday, you're going to have to do a little work. It'll be worth it though, I promise. Just follow the directions on this meme.

When you get to #4, look in the clouds to the left. And feel free to come back here and comment on what you saw.

Your Call Is Not Important to Us

I'm sure you've had one of those calls...you know, the one you make to some business or some such, and then you get put on hold, which is made worse if you first have to listen to a multitude of computerized prompts to get to the Hold part, and worse still if when you get put on hold you have to listen to some seriously horrendous musack. OK, and yes, I do realize that's probably a run-on sentence. Thank goodness I don't get paid to be 100% grammatically correct. And who am I kidding really, I don't get paid to blog. At least not in money. And how much is chocolate really worth these days?

But I digress...

I am bringing this stuff up about being on hold because of a recent phone call to the IRS. Which arguably could stand for I'm Really Stupid. And why, you ask? Well I'll tell you why. 

First of all, the IRS really does have seriously horrendous musack while you're on hold. I mean, it's worse than bad. It gives bad a, um, bad name. And you really would think that considering all the money the IRS steals from hard working Americans, that they could afford some slightly less annoying musack while we're on hold. Michael Jackson, anyone? Anyone?

Secondly, you can only hear "Your call is important to us...yadda...yadda...yadda..." so many times before you really want to just take the phone and lunge it into your own chest. Repeatedly. 

And thirdly, because I waited on hold for over an hour. Yes, you read that correctly, folks. Sixty. Plus. Minutes. All to find out why the Hubs and I had gotten a notice about an incorrectly applied Employer Tax Deposit. See, I had to call to find out why the payment didn't apply correctly. Nowhere in the notice I got did it explain--anywhere--WHY the payment went awry. 

So finally, after over and hour of waiting, when I finally got through to "Ms. White," if that's even her real name, and I told her about the notice and asked what the problem was, guess what she told me? 

"Your payment arrived late."

Me: 

When is it due? (Honestly, I've been making those payments for years and hadn't even realized it was due on a certain day of the month!).

Her: The 15th. 

Me: But I made the payment on the 12th.

Her: But it didn't post until the 16th.

Me: 

And furthermore, may I just say, WTF?

But I was growing old tired of the phone call at this point, so I stated that I'd be sure to be more prompt with my payments in the future. Ahem.

Before I let dear "Ms. White" go, however, I wanted to get my tax dollars worth and point out something for the sake of tax-paying Americans everywhere. That being, that if the IRS would have simply bothered to put one simple sentence on the payment error notice that they sent me--one that stated that payments are due on the 15th and that my payment was received one day late--then I could have avoided being on hold for OVER A FREAKING HOUR, and I wouldn't have had to bother the dear, dutiful, now-sighing-a-bored-and-patronizing-sigh-in-the-background Ms. White with such a trivial issue in the first place!

Seriously. Would it have been that hard or costly to put one simple little sentence on that notice to explain that? It's not like the IRS paid for that paper notice, or the ink that was printed on it, or the envelope it was mailed in, or the stamp that was affixed to it. I DID. So how difficult could it be to include in such notices the actual reason you are getting them?! Wouldn't that just be a clever idea or what?

In the words of my mother, Ergle.

So really, what I got out of this whole experience is, other than that the IRS stands for I'm Really Stupid, is that when you are on hold--be it for 60 seconds or over 60 minutes--when they tell you that "your call is important to us," they are actually lying. Like, for real.

And also, perhaps more importantly, somewhere in the IRS call center is some lady allegedly named "Ms. White," who is way too easily bored and annoyed

WTF Wednesday Yuck

For your WTF and Semi-Wordless Wednesday.

The scary part is...this doesn't even look Photoshopped.

And now I'm speechless.

Happy, um, hump day.

You Got a Friend in You

OK, I think this WTF Wednesday image will speak for itself. Be sure to read the comments in the photo itself.

And I dare you not to laugh.

WTF IS That

I think this WTF Wednesday moment will speak for itself. :)

Also could be categorized as one of those Things That Make You Say Hmmm. LOL

Is Unbloggy a Word?

Clearly, if unbloggy IS a word, then that's how I'm feeling lately. Unbloggy. You know, not-prone-to-blogging-much. Sometimes I feel like I'm just talking to myself here. Other times I just can't seem to think of anything to say. So I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm only going to blog if I really do have something to say. OR, if I have something LOL funny to share. Case in point...

Yeah, it took me a minute to find it too. And then I was all, OMG WTF?!

It's funny, no? Makes you laugh at least a little bit?

And you know what they say about laughter, right? Best medicine and all that.

Although sometimes, a good stiff drink will fix what ails you too. Ha ha. Just kidding.

Sort of.

Selective Focus

Yes, it's WTF Wednesday time again, my peeps. Time to test your powers of observation. So check out this meme for today.

Don't feel bad if you didn't pass the test. I didn't either.

We're only human, after all. But seriously...WTF is wrong with me?!

Not Quite Ghost

OK, so I still have a cold. And I'm surfing through Tumblr (yes, I have 2 more blogs on Tumblr!) in search of reasons to laugh. As they say, laughter is the best medicine, right? Didn't take long to find a reason to laugh either. And since it did kind of make me say WTF when I first saw it, I figured it would work perfectly for WTF Wednesday too.

I dare you not to laugh.

Not quite Ghost, now is it? But so funny.

I feel better already.

Goin to Wal Mart, Grab the Leash for Jr.

I know you're all excited for WTF Wednesday...or maybe even (Semi) Wordless Wednesday. In either case, I got you, bro. [Did I just say "bro?" I'm watching too much Jersey Shore.]

I never really grasped the concept of the put-your-kid-on-a-leash mentality, but even if I did, the crawling on all fours in Wal Mart is just a bit much. But his mom sure seems to be enjoying it. One has to wonder if she'll enjoy it as much when the kid cuts his hand on something on that germ-covered floor, and then mom has to kiss the boo-boo on his germ-covered hand, resulting in the whole family coming down with a stomach virus (or worse), all because that kid is wearing a leash. Smart thinking. ;)

Beach Bod

I just have one question for this week's WTF Wednesday:

How old is too old for a bikini?

Sometimes, photos really do speak for themselves.

Happy hump day, people!

Naked at Lowes

OK this is going to work for both (Semi) Wordless Wednesday and WTF Wednesday. Pay close attention to the woman behind the counter...if you dare. When You See It...Oh my.

Have you figured it out yet...I mean, after you closed your mouth and stopped scratching your head saying WTF? At first glance, this Lowes employee appears to be naked. But she's not. She's actually a dark-skinned woman...wearing light, flesh-colored, skin-tight leggings.

The obvious question, of course, is WHY?

Once again, proof positive that retail stores need to clearly spell out--and enforce--their dress codes. Sheesh.