How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Choose a Surfboard for Your Dog

First, I'd have to get a surfboard for me ...

Then, I'd have to get a dog.

Cult Chronicles

As I mentioned, my sister used to be married to a guy whose mom joined a cult in Montana to protect the world from alien invasion by chanting.

For more crazy stories about this, go here, here or here.

And, here's another one:

It was a normal day, and the last thing my sister expected was a surprise phone call from her mother-in-law (now ex-mother-in-law, we'll call her Wanda).

Here's a rough idea of how the conversation went:

Sister: Hello?

Wanda: Hi, this is Wanda. I've made a discovery and I wanted to tell you about it.

Sister: (Already flinching internally) Oh, really? What did you find out?

Wanda: Well, I was gardening this morning, and I was thinking about the mysteries of the universe, and then ... I saw my shadow.

Sister: (Trying not to say, "Yeah, the sun tends to do that sometimes.") Uh huh.

Wanda: I saw my shadow, and I could tell from the shape of it that in one of my past lives, I was a polygamist male.

Sister: ... Oh ...

I defy you to think of a politically correct way to respond to that.

My daughter the fashionista

The other day, my daughter decided my pajama pants needed a little embellishment.



Thankfully, we don't own a Bedazzler.

I hope I'm not jinxing myself

Have you ever found yourself telling someone how lucky you feel because something hasn't happened to you (i.e. your tires haven't gone flat, your roof hasn't caved in, your pants haven't ripped in public, etc.) and within the week, you get a nice taste of humble pie (i.e. all four tires burst while driving to work, you get an unplanned skylight in your bedroom, your pants mimic those breakaway pants for gym by ripping cleanly up the sides, etc.)?

I'm going to attempt to say something here, for the record on the indelible Internet, and I just hope it doesn't jinx me.

It has been forever since I've been tagged with one of those random self quizzes, requests for a blurb from the book closest to me or any of the other million varieties of blog tagging.

It might be because no one reads this thing, but I'm not going to lie. I kind of like it.

All those random tags remind me of email forwards. And email forwards are quickly slipping into the category of telemarketers who call during dinner.

So, at the risk of this blowing up in my face, I'm going to go out on a limb and say how lucky I feel for not having to fill one of them out.

How To Article of the Week

This week: 7 Steps to a Perfect Fake Tan

I would love to darken my pure white skin, but this still looks like too much work. I'll just stick with blinding everyone at the pool.

Vendor/Client Relationships

I don't know if anyone will get it, but this video made me laugh ...

... and also made me a little depressed. If it wasn't so true, it wouldn't sting as much.

One thing you shouldn't say at a funeral

My grandma lived in one of those towns where most of the population had AARP cards and qualified for the senior discount at the movie theater.

A number of years ago, she passed away, and my entire family descended upon the unsuspecting populace for the funeral.

(Tangent)
The running joke my childhood friend always loved was telling me that my family could populate its own third-world country.
(End Tangent)

When we all arrived at the funeral service, I'm sure all my grandma's elderly friends were trying cope with the background noise that naturally follows 60+ people. Several of us were already seated when my nephew walked into the room.

(Tangent)
This nephew is one of many who has Asperger's, a social disorder on the autism spectrum that can make social interaction difficult or awkward (as you'll see in just a minute).
(End Tangent)

The following is my best attempt to give you a mental picture of what happened next:

My nephew, who looks like he was transplanted into our skinny, dark-haired family directly from Sweden, sauntered into the room as if he owned the place.

There he stood at the back of the church with his little hands planted on his tiny hips.

And, loud enough for the entire room to hear, even without the help of their hearing aids, he blurted, "Okay ... where's the dead lady?"

I don't even want to tell you how many heads whipped around.

Cult Chronicles

As I mentioned, my sister used to be married to a guy whose mom joined a cult in Montana to protect the world from alien invasion by chanting.

For more crazy stories about this, go here or here.

And, here's another one:

At one point, my sister got a phone call from her ex-mother-in-law (we'll call her Enid). Enid mentioned she had been saving up some money for my sister's two kids to help with college. However, she called to say she found a better use for it.

Apparently, one of the members of her cult bought a submarine and was having it shipped from the coast to his ranch in Montana. He planned to submerge it underground to prepare for the coming apocalypse.


(Tangent)
I can only assume they think the aliens will eventually get around their chanting barriers and attack us all.
(End Tangent)

Thankfully, this guy wasn't being selfish. For a modest fee, namely two college funds, Enid was able to secure spaces on this modern Noah's Arc for her whole family. On one of their visits to see Enid, my sister even got a tour of the "bomb shelter."

And let me just tell you, she and her family will be HOOKED UP. While the rest of the world will be wishing they had made an impulse buy when they saw that submarine on sale at Costco, they will be waiting it out in style.

When my sister told me about all the amenities, and I began to wonder if I could just move in tomorrow.

Here's the short list:

• A 7-year supply of food
• Medical supplies
• Separate bedrooms with bunk beds for family privacy
• A living/community area
• Kitchen facilities
• Bathroom facilities
• A school room
• Curriculum materials
• And don't forget guns! Lots and lots of guns.

These people thought of everything!

... but I wonder if they get HBO ...

I never knew I needed one of these ... until now.

Will someone please tell Santa I've been good this year?

... and then ask him to bring me one of these with my name on it?



Warning, LDS-specific joke: My brother wants to get one of these with his bishop's name on it and take it to a ward potluck. He figures everyone will think the bishop brought it when they see it sitting on the table.

How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Start Living in a Tiny House

The concept is cool, but I think I'd get a little claustrophobic after a while.