My HOT Airport Date

I needed a ride to the airport. I asked a friend a few weeks ago ("What are the odds you could take me to the airport?" "Zero." zero is our number) Asked my Girly friend. She's gotta get her kids to school and her hubby is going to work too early and wishes she could but she can't.

So I asked the Bartender.

He says "Gee I would but I have to be at work by 10:30."

I said "No problem. I have to be at the airport around 8."

He replies "Gee I would but... I don't wanna."

Oh well. I said "Oh well"

Later that day, I am taking Little B to my house and The Bartender says to his son "Penny will take good care of you, cause if she doesn't I'll crash her on the way to the airport."

"You're taking me to the airport?"

"You bet."

Strangely, I am looking forward to this. The Bartender and I need to have a talk about what our current state of relationship is. Because when we last discussed it he pretty much told me it was bad for him to be chasing me around while I was all screwed up. Bad for him to be engaged in unrequited "crush". I get that.

And that was bad for me as well.

So we need to talk a bit. Plus its always nice to have someone to kiss good bye.

I'll see you all when I get back!

The Deep End of Secrets

When I was kid, my dad taught me how to swim by tossing me into the deep end of the pool and then yelling encouragement such as "Stop flailing and sputtering SWIM for christs sake!"

Interesting memory since I've been engaged in some more introspection lately. I think this childhood experience was valuable for me. No, not to make me feel safe (or even wanted) but certainly to teach me that you either sink or you swim. JUST DO IT.

When things need to be done then they are best done. Even the difficult things. I remember the first time I really screwed up at work. I damaged a vehicle. By being a dumb ass. The first thought that went through my mind was to slop some white-out on there and put enough distance between me and the event to create some plausible deniability. (What scrape? What gooey white substance?? I haven't been near that car in 4 and a half hours, musta been someone else!)

But what I did instead was take a deep breath, walk into my boss's office and fess up. And it turns out it wasn't so bad. I was 23 years old. I have been that way ever since.

Just DO IT.

Things which linger and eat at your soul... This is no good.

Just a couple days ago Number One fessed up that her boyfriend had side-swiped another car while at the wheel of Angels car. I was inquiring about all the cryptic phone calls. She said "Angel doesn't want you to know either."

Interesting. My friend and my daughter engaged in keeping a secret from me. I wondered why but not too much. I imagine that everyone felt stupid. Angel for letting them have her car, Number One for being attached to such an idiot... the idiot for being proven an idiot.

So I told my child this: "When you have to remember who knows about what and keep some things from these people and other things from those people... There's something wrong. Either something wrong with you or something wrong with the people in your life. Because you should not have to keep these kinds of secrets."

SECRETS. I found an interesting site on Blog Spot. People writing their secrets onto home-made post cards and sending them off to be published. There is something compelling and sickening about them, all at the same time. One of them reminded me of someone I know. None of them reminded me of me.

Is it because I don't have anymore secrets? Probably not. I still have a few I guess. But I think I've really pulled the two parts of my life together in a way. I've coalesced. And it feels pretty damn good.

For those of you who still harbor secrets, who are cleaved in half... I can't throw you in the pool. You gotta do it yourself.

Just do it. Quit sputtering and SWIM.

Gotta Love the Instant Message!

I recently got a message from some dude in France. Why do I want to talk to some random France dude? I don't.

Today I added my Yahoo ID to my profile. This way when I get random messages, maybe they'll be from some one it would be cool to say HEY to.

Hey.

Help me... I'm HOOKED on the Quiz

You are

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

Only Occasionally Normal... I'm shocked. You?

You Are 35% Normal (Occasionally Normal)

You sure do march to your own beat... But you're so weird, people wonder if it's a beat at all You think on a totally different wavelength And it's often a chore to get people to understand you

How Normal Are You?

Who Is Looking at My Feet?

1145

That frankly astounds me! It's a nearly impossible number of profile viewers. Who knew?

On Line Dating... or How Penny Got Her Groove Back

Italian Guy :ciao

Penny: Hola

Italian Guy: how r u

Penny: a little sleepy... you?

Italian Guy: im fine

Italian Guy: i have to say youre a cutie [points for using the correct you're]

Penny: well, thank you
I have to say you're too young for me~

Penny: heres a question [He has non-smoker in his profile but a photo of himself with a nasty-ass cigar sticking out of his face] do cigars not count as smoking?

Italian Guy: i smoke like 5 a year

Italian Guy :in summer

Italian Guy: wow you r a hottie am i really to young

Penny: you are 10 years younger than me!

Italian Guy: is that a problem

Penny: depends on what you mean by problem

Italian Guy: the age factor

Penny: are you vacuous?

Penny: dont look it up

Italian Guy: whats that

Penny: silly

Penny: empty headed

Italian Guy: im not

Italian Guy: why ?

Penny: well its hard not to classify people

Italian Guy: im not like that

Penny: I try not to be but its been difficult on here

Penny: its a weird way to meet people, you know?

Penny: so do you have an actual job or are you hoping? [he's coming to Los Angeles for an "acting" job]

Italian Guy: yes im a professional actor in Milano

Italian Guy: a long with being a lawyer [alright. Can I let him get away with this one? He didn't know what vacuous means...]

Penny: get out of town

Penny: you are not a lawyer... I am prepared with a quiz . say when you're ready

Italian Guy: go for it

Penny: I will not ask you the rule against perpetuities... cause Im nice. Whats Res Ipsa Loquitur mean?

Italian Guy: the same thing means

Penny: Nope

Italian Guy: loquitur means sepaking [points for googleing latin JK]

Penny: speaks ... res ipsa loquitur is a legal term of art!

Penny: alright that was hard, sorry

Italian Guy: hey ill be back shortly

Italian Guy: dont go away

He never came back.

OK. So I lied about getting my groove back. Sue me.

Typo Mystery Update...

Read about the mystery in the next post, which is technically the last post, before you read this post OR you will become hopelessly confused and blame it on my inability to articulate funny things in proper order while in fact it is your inability to read funny things in their proper order which is almost, but not quite, as irritating and just plain wrong as people who insist on writing in run-on sentences.

The message now reads thus;

Help me I hook Dean Failer proff

I am having a bit of trouble with the proff part. Cause proff is not really a word. But then it came to me. What if my brain is sending secret messages but -- stay with me here -- TYPO-ED THE MESSAGE!?! What if my brain meant prof, but accidentally added that extra stutter "f " at the end? PROF is a word. It's short for professor.

AND, get this kids, I am in law school... Law school where we have BOTH a Dean and Profs ... and the opportunity to fail! I'm the failer? Who is the Prof??

And most importantly what kind of hook are we talking here? I think this means I am either:

A. About to trade sex for grades or

B. Become one of those psycho killers ("... and when they got home that night there was this hook dangling from the car handle!! ARGGGGGHHHHHH!").

Holy Cow Loyal Blog Monkeys! It looks inevitable. Stay tuned for updates.

Bad Penny ~ Typo Mystery

Recently my typing skill has taken a turn for the worst. I am some what used to it in IM, after all there you go for speed. But my regular typing has gone to pot too. and in the strangest way. I find myself writing actual words... just not the words I meant.

Then I gaze down at the key board and wonder how did that happen? Usually the words do not have enough similarity to make sense. The mixed up letters are no where near each other on the keyboard. It was a mystery until I realized that , clearly, my brain is trying to send a message. I began trying to receive it by collecting each misplaced word to form a sentence. So far it reads like this:

HELP ME I HOOK... Hook what? and is the message for me? Or is it a secret message my brain is trying to get past me, to someone else? How long has my brain been engaged in this secret relationship. Behind my back, so to speak!?! A little help here, ok? Cause I can't figure this out by myself. and I've been trying real hard. But I have to use my own brain and... It's in on it.

How I know J loves me even though he refuses to say it...

I've tried to trick him into saying it. (I once quizzed him "So what did that girl in Indiana Jones write on her eye lids?" "I lo- GOOD try missy!") But he won't. He has something against the gratuitous dropping of the love bomb. What he fails to recognize, though, is its there or its not -- whether you say it or not.

Penny says:
I whacked my self in the toes with the string trimmer today

J says:
ouch
dammit

Penny says:
and cried like a baby

J says:
you should have lit that piece of crap on fire
lol

Penny says:
what will I cut the lawn with?

J says:
light the damn lawn on fire

Penny says:
thanks for being my friend

J says:
gasoline

J says:
let it soak in

Penny says:
OK

J says:
WOOF
it's gone

Penny says:
good plan

Penny says:
I'll call you from jail

J says:
sweet and I'll arrange a jailbreak

J says:
and we'll run across the country, lighting everyone's lawn on fire

J says:
leaving a trail of molten grass in our wake

J says:
RESIST!

Penny says:
You are the BEST FRIEND EVER~!

Thats how.

Summer Time... and the livin's easy

Good Blog Monkeys know that Penny is an old fashioned girl. I believe that there are certain things that men were meant to do, and certain things that women were meant to do... and, if life is fair, the two should never meet.

For instance, lawn mowing.

I own a lawn mower. However, Scooter has so entrenched it in the garage (Under two tons of trash which Scooter can not throw out and Penny can not throw out either -- he because he is insane, she because she is small and weak and literally can not throw the shit out.) Hence the ordeal of removing the mower from the garage is nearly impossible. I could do it it, though. I do not because once I get the thing out I can not start it.

I have learned this bit of wisdom on far too many occasions. I have scraped my knuckles, battered my shoulder and broken toes kicking it while cursing in great streams of scurrilous expletives. I prime. I check the spark plug. I twist the throttle in complicated ways. All of it to no avail. So, wisely, I no longer even try.

My lawn is a trooper though. It does not notice the lack of mowing and quit growing. Nope. It notices the lack of mowing and screams COWABUNGA! I have witnessed, with my own eyes, my lawn growing. If you were to lie down on it and take a nap? You would wake encased in over enthusiastic St. Augustine sod. I once saw it swallow a rake.

Well, you might wonder, what does Penny do? Clearly she can not let the lawn run amok, eating small pets and various gardening implements. (I swear, the only reason Steve King has not written about my lawn is because he can not imagine an evil so... Verdant) The lawn must be dealt with.

So I cut it with my string trimmer.

This is no small task. It generally takes three days. Three days of trimming, raking, sweeping, etc. But what the hell else have I got to do?

Yesterday was day one. Today is day two. If I am lucky I'll have it all finished by Wednesday and then can rest on Thursday. By Friday it will be menacing my children and their friends so I'll start over. My feet are a loverly shade of green. I have wads of grass under my eye lids. The insects take refuge in my hair since that seems safe from the trimmer.

Alas, my friends, while others are basking in summer fun, Penny will be basking is clouds of green trimmer exhaust. Fortunately green is a good color on me.

FUNNY!

Current Events

Holy Cow Loyal Blog Monkeys!

Couple of things. First off I am punch drunk with the "I just took my last exam and life is good" high I get from eating excedrin and coke to live through it. Or at least remain awake. Then I get home and my eyes are WHAMMO! wide open. No rest for the wicked.

Any way. I've found that the name Bad Penny tends to bring nasty-dirty thoughts to the on-line dating-guy mind. Maybe I need to change that. Or learn to love Beavis and Butthead type interactions. heh heh.

And, for the first time in a long time, I looked at my profile views.

1061

What the heck are so many people doing looking at my profile?? Just today a friend says, in a keen and off-hand manner "I know a girl in the foot porn industry."

Penny replies in total wide-eyed-idiot innocence "O yeah?!?"

Friend, only the teenyist smirk to belie his devious nature says "Yeah."

And being rather bright myself I query "Does she make much money at that?"

"Thats the weird part," says he "She does it for the love of deviants."

Don't take that personally, my Monkey Children. He doesn't know you like I do.

Conversations with Microsoft Money

MSN $: ADVISOR FYI

Me: Uh huh?

MSN $: Your total available cash has been decreasing!

Me: Duh.

MSN $: ALERT!

Me: What is it now?

MSN $: You've exceeded your monthly budget for food.

Me: What is my budget for food set at?

MSN $: $40.01

Me: A month!?!

MSN $: Yep

Me: Don't you think that must be a mistake?

MSN $: I do not make mistakes.

Me: I don't remember even setting a budget...

MSN $: I did it for you.

Me: And we only get forty bucks to eat on?

MSN $: Don't blame me. I don't decide how much money goes in... just how much goes out.

Me: I need a snack. or breakfast. My head is swimming.

MSN $: Just calm down missy. The kids can eat at the neighbors house and you've been looking a little... plump.

Me: There must be some mistake.

MSN $: ADVISOR FYI! Your total available cash had been decreasing.

Me: Oh yes, now I remember.