Can't blame it on autocorrect...

So, I've talked about these patients before - the couple that talks and talks and talks and never leaves? Well, they were in this afternoon. The Mr. was in a treatment room, the Mrs. was out in the reception area.

Part One:

bsgirl bumps the back of my chair.

"Mrs K is playing with herself."

me: WTH?

I look and sure enough, there she is with her pants pulled out, her hand WAY down her pants... I stared for a moment not believing it, but then realized she was just tucking in her shirt. A lot. There was a LOT of tucking going on.

Bsgirl and I giggled a bit.

Part Two:

30 minutes later we hear from the reception room:

"aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh....ooooohhhhhhhhhhh"

And I hear bsgirl chortling. (SUCH a good word)

The chortle quickly becomes a snort and more chortles... and she tells me "DON'T turn around."

Which makes me immediately turn around... and I see her typing an IM to me. So I wait...

I wish I could do a photo upload... but I erased it too quickly... this was what it went like...

BSGIRL: Was that a delayed organism?

ME: Do you mean Orgasm??????????

BSGIRL: OMG

And that was the end of us for the rest of today. We had to leave the room... tears coming down... dissolving in giggles...

It took them almost 30 minutes to check out - it was at least 10 just to put coats on - (this is not because they are infirm in any way - they won't stop TALKING) and just a moment ago the phone rang... it was the Mrs.

She forgot her coat.

The Farting Monkeys.

Ahhhh... finally, a few minutes to sit and write the Farting Monkey story. I'm supposed to be creating, but I'm waiting for a whole lotta spackle to dry, and I'm trying not to touch it. SO I'll type instead.

The story really starts with Chip... if you don't know who he is - read this.

The County College Of Morris used to hold a huge garage sale in one of its parking lots. Chip and Judy used to take a space and sell off their stuff every year. We would go to the sale, and hang with them and walk around, and have fun... and find treasures. As Bob and I walked around, we found... The Farting Monkeys. We knew the moment we saw them that they would be perfect for Chip. We delighted in giving each other very ODD gifts.

We gave the man a quarter, and hightailed it back to Chip & Judy's spot.

"Look what we bought you!!!"

"What the F*CK are they???"

"Farting monkeys!!!!"

"Oh COOL."

He pressed the button and farts abounded. He chortled and snickered and giggled.

Judy was HORRIFIED.

"You're not bringing them into the house."

"Oh yes I am, try and stop me."

The look Judy gave us would have stopped a clock... had there been a clock handy.

Rarely a day went by without hearing the Farting Monkeys on our answering machine. Chip would call while we were at work, set them off and all you could hear was him laughing in the background.

Then you'd hear Judy say "Turn those F*CKING THINGS OFF".

And then the world changed, and the Farting Monkeys were silenced... until...

the first County College garage sale after his death... and Judy, knowing Bob's addiction to collecting coolers, said "Here Bobby - I found this cooler and I want you to have it..."

I saw a LOOK in her eyes... and it was like slow motion - I turned to grab the cooler, all the while saying "Noooooooooooooooooooo....." but it was too late.

Bob accepted the cooler, opened it... and guess what was inside?

"They're YOURS now...." Judy grinned evilly.

So we ran home and called her answering machine. And left her a Farting Monkey message....

I love these damn Monkeys.

Say again?

Or... my adventures in lip waxing.

Yeah - I'll come right out and admit it - I get my upper lip waxed. And a little on my chin too. Honestly - there's not too many women in their 50's that DON'T have a little 'stache action going on.

Luckily enough, my friend and neighbor Hoopy is a hairdresser. She's been doing my hair for umpteen thousand years, and also waxes me whenever I'm feeling furry.

She says she'll do my legs if I want her to, but she draws the line at a Brazilian. (I think she's a party pooper.)

The best part about colder weather is that hoopy's fingers tend to get very cold, and after she rips half my face off she quickly presses her fingers against my skin. This feels amazingly wonderful.

In the summertime it's nowhere NEAR as wonderful. Warm fingers pressed up against ouchy skin just doesn't cut it.

Well, today was cool... and hoopy was excited to show me that her fingers were cold. I did a little banana dance in my chair.

And the waxing commences... and my upper lip becomes nice and smooth. She presses her cold finger against my lip and says...

Ready? Wait for it...

"I'm saving my coldest finger for down there."

I RIPPED my eyes open to see where she was pointing...

It was my chin.

I thought perhaps that she was FINALLY going to do that Brazilian...