Rest assured, folks. Parapup is not having a CVA or acute onset of Bell’s Palsy. This morning, I went to the dentist for not one, but two fillings. Let me tell you, my dentist does not screw around with low doses of anesthetic. She had like six shots in me before you could say “lidocaine.”

This was two hours ago. I have facial droop, can’t say my own name without sounding like I drank a bottle of MD2020, and can only flare one nostril.

I bring it up because I know some of you have been wondering, “Has Parapup been up to anything that makes her look like a crazy fool?” The answer is: abso-freaking-lutely.

You see, I have somewhere to be at noon, and I would prefer to be able speak using consonants like B, F, M, P, V, and W. My solution is to get the blood flowing. I’ve been running around my house in my underwear dancing and doing kickboxing moves. All I need now for a full on bout of embarrassment is for the UPS guy to show up to find me flushed and busting out my best white girl moves and kicking the air with a half functioning face and no pants. It’s times like these that make me able to relate to some of my psych calls.

How many jump kicks do you have to do to dilate your blood vessels in the face of injected epinephrine? I’ll let you know when I find out.

Share on Facebook

Walking through the wash bays at work recently, I was completely caught off guard by a poster nestled amidst the usual warning and safety posters.  Not only is the picture pixelated and the editing abysmal, but the message is downright nonsensical.  As a direct result, I love it.

Because every time you fail to lift with your legs, the terrorists gain a little ground.

Here in the United States of America, home of the statement, “hold my beer and watch this,” we take pride in safety.  Anything else is unpatriotic.

My latest pair of work boots came with a free hat that said, “stomping out terrorism” across the back.  Seeing that the company doesn’t make military issue boots, I don’t understand how that statement can be much more than an unearned ego stroke.  We sure do know how to hold our heads high in the name of patriotism, don’t we?  Because of this, I found out that if you respond to a coworker’s inquiry as to what you are doing with a grimace and a forceful exclamation of “I’m stomping out terrorism!” they will walk away from you slowly and make no sudden moves.

At the very least, I got hours of giggling out of a silly hat and a silly poster.

Share on Facebook

In super awesome news, California Casualty has nominated my blog as a top blog! Woot! I feel like walking on sunshine!

Share on Facebook