You Would Never Guess


I was in the car today and heard someone on the radio talking about random things that people would never guess about them and it got me thinking about random things that I have done or experienced. So today I will share with you 6 random facts about myself that a lot of people may not know…it’s 6 because once I wrote the first 5 I had one more that I just HAD to put in.

1. I used to sell night crawlers as a kid. Yes! Actual night crawlers. We would go out in our rain jackets or when we were too cool for that…just jeans and t-shirts that would soak us to the bone and pick night crawlers. WITH OUR BARE HANDS! We would pick dozens and dozens of them. Then we would keep them in a refrigerator and sell them all summer long. It was a bonus when we would find two having sex and we got a two-fer!¬†Poor things. First we have coitus interruptis and then they get hooked and eaten by a fish…We would go all over town, looking for hot spots of worms. We were making bank in the summer! I paid for my first car with the money earned from those slimy things.

2. My front tooth is half fake. When I was 6, after my permanent teeth came in. (Of course!) My older brother, being the jerk that he was, chased my friend and I around the yard. It was a small yard with clothesline poles. Steel clothesline poles. I look back to stick my tongue out at him because that’s what little sisters do. Turn back around, laughing…

BAM!!!!!

CRACK!!!!

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-WAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Half of my tooth is in my hand. Nothing they could except polish the edge. It wasn’t broken enough to hurt the root. Lived with that hillbilly smile for 14 years until a dentist said “I can fix that for $50”. So it got fixed. No more hillbilly smiles ūüôā

3. I hate the cold. And I live in Minnesota…Yah, shore you betcha. WTF? I don’t like to ski, love the beach and sun and I live in Minnesota. What an oxymoron. Or am I just a moron? I had to marry Rambo who doesn’t like change and would only move further North if I let him. Last weeks foray to his hometown helped my cause for at least staying where I am. Whew! The only problem is that he will say “Gosh, it’s hot” when the temps hit 70 degrees. He sounds like an old man. I keep telling him the only thing different between him and an old man is that he still has his teeth.

4. I have no tattoos. It’s not that I don’t want them. I am too chicken because I don’t like pain and think of the “what ifs”. My luck, I would get stretch marks and what was a cute butterfly would morph back into some unrecognizable¬†caterpillar¬†that undulates as I laugh. Not a pretty thought.

5. The summertime sun makes me horny. So then tell me why the hell Rambo won’t move to a SUNNIER place? Seriously. I don’t know what it is but a day on the beach is like the greatest aphrodisiac for me. Then again, I am not sure if I have ever told him this tidbit until this week. But we have been married 24 years (I know, right!) and he should just KNOW this shit about me, right? Really. I shouldn’t have to tell him EVERYTHING. He should just add 2 and 2 together and figure it out.

6. I am extremely shy. Yes. Ms. Sassy herself is shy. Yet, I work in a field where I talk to strangers everyday, can get up and talk in front of a conference room of people (I do sweat profusely…dripping down my sides and all). Go figure. Get me in a party type situation and I become a wallflower. A cute little Forget-Me-Not because that is the smallest flower I can think of. It’s worse when Rambo is around too….there is a whole session with a therapist on THAT!

Who would have guessed?

If you have any questions for me…let me know what they are and I will answer them in a blog next week. Nothing is off limits!

Have a sassy weekend!

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I Won Asshole ~ Musings of a Dream


Ever have one of those dreams that you woke up and said to yourself:

WTF? Seriously? Where the hell did that come from? I think it’s from having a¬†sleepless¬†night the night before. Throw in a little angst about my daughter moving out, it’s like a perfect storm. Either that or someone slipped me some good (bad?) drugs.

An argument with a redneck, no less. Over arrows. At a thrift shop. Really?

Wanna hear about it?

I was with JC and 2 friends, that have been in my life forever, and we somehow ended up in a thrift shop. It reminded me of a¬†illegal¬†back street ¬†purse shop in New York. To get to the stairs, we have to pass by two old ladies at the counter. Of course, I take the hard way. I have to work my way around the counter, behind these little old ladies. Think of a more boring version of Betty White but I imagine Betty White doesn’t smell like wet Depends.

We get upstairs, because all dreams MUST have long stairwells, right? We start looking around and we see all these mom jeans. I am talking Jordache, Gloria Vanderbilt (yes, the ones with the swan!), and my favorites? Zena! Yep. In all their pleated, high-waisted tapered leg glory. My friends (they really need to expand their jean choice) start grabbing jeans as if they were wedding dresses on sale at Kleinfeld’s dress blow out. And they wonder why I am still the hot, smart one. Always was, always will be. A hint of bitchiness? Of course.

As we are perusing through all these treasures, this redneck with a missing front tooth walks up to me and tells me that I don’t know what it is that I am looking at. I am holding this weird shaped stick with tweezers at one end and a slit in the middle of the stick.

I get a tad bit too¬†belligerent,¬†“I do too. It’s for setting nocks and fletchings on arrows!” WTF?

This is met by a silent shake of his head. He pulls an arrow out. From his butt maybe? I don’t know, it’s a dream. It just appears.

“Well show me how you use it.”

I grab the arrow and the fletchnocker. Google it…I dare you!

I hear fiddles playing “Devil Went Down to Georgia”. I guess it’s better than banjos!

Like a pro, it’s done in seconds.

“So there, you toothless, impotent redneck! Did you seriously think you could beat me at my game?”, poking him in the chest with the tip of the arrow, he is falls backwards. All his friends are watching and laughing as he is being beat down by little ol’ me.

The little old ladies come rushing up, yelling in their little old lady voices,

“You can’t do that! You will kill him, that’s dangerous!”

My friends and I start laughing and it pisses the redneck off even more. He tries to get up but I put my shoe on his chest and kick him back down with my black stilettos. Cute stilettos with silver spikes.

“I won, asshole! You got owned by a skinny, blonde chick!”

We run down the stairs and out into the street, laughing so hard our guts feel like splitting open.

Bang! The door slams.

The sound wakes me up.

Whoa. That was bizarre. So I sit there, trying to figure out what it means.

Then it hits me….I gotta pee.

I am also thinking I have to go out and get new black stilettos.

“But honey, I dreamed that I had them. That means it is meant to be.”

Can you hear DH laughter from there? Yeah, thought so!

When I tell him about the dream he just shakes his head and mutters to himself.

“Fletchnocker, wow. Just wow.”

Didn’t he get it? It has to be all about the shoes. Isn’t it always about the shoes?

Forever Sassy!

P.S I will have a guest blog over at No Longer Quiet on Friday. It is my first and I am honored to be chosen. Head on over there today to take a look-see. He is great!