A media issue I recently handled at work involved New York’s Office of Unclaimed Property. Afterward, for no reason in particular, I decided to see if Texas had a similar office — and we do (www.window.state.tx.us/up/) . Of course I searched my name, and lo and behold, I have unclaimed funds. Woohoo!

Then I saw the amount and was more than a little disappointed.

(Click to enlarge)

ONE cent? WTF? Who the f*ck would even put that in a database? Poor Rhonda is owed $0.01 by University of Houston.

Then I remembered exactly what that penny was about. It was a semester when I dropped a class and that was my tuition “refund.” In fact, even in 1996 I knew that was a WTF? moment and had saved the check because I thought it was so ridiculous.

After a little searching, I present to you my check for one penny.

As ridiculous as this all is, I have found a way to pay it forward — the website allows you to donate your unclaimed funds to charity.

Hopefully this penny issue is resolved forever … although I am sure the charity will be completely underwhelmed by my generosity and will probably have a WTF? moment themselves when they get the check for one penny. HA!

Yes, I know I should be ashamed for taking photos while driving, but this HAD to be documented. Please click on the picture to see it larger — then notice what is written on the back of the tank.

“Haulin’ Liquid Chicken” WTF is that? Seriously. LIQUID chicken? So of course I googled it and came across all kinds of interesting things. There’s a band named Liquid Chicken. Urban Dictionary has a listing for “liquid chicken” (eggs). There are several strange videos on YouTube that reference liquid chicken products. Knorr makes a bottled liquid chicken flavor. There’s a liquid chicken fertilizer.

There were also lots of pictures and blog posts about similar trucks (but not this one, so it’s scary that there is a fleet of Liquid Chicken trucks). The thing that threw me off was that all of their photos showed the word “Inedible” somewhere. Mine doesn’t. So I guess it was edible liquid chicken? After visiting several blogs, there still doesn’t seem to be an answer for what is in that tanker.

On a recent trip to Sam’s Club, I came across this gem.

Anti-Money Butt? WTF is monkey butt?

The thing that really intrigued me was the “For Butt Busting Activities” part on the box. So, back to Google to find their website. Here is what they describe as butt-busting activities … truck driving, motorcycling, bicycling, horse back riding, and extreme sports. Any other activities that give you monkey butt?

I had a few awesome WTF? pictures to share today, but they will have to wait, as we have more tooth drama to discuss.

Anabella had a lose tooth last night – right next to the other tooth she lost on the bottom. You remember that one. The one that just disappeared at school. The one that never made it home. The one that wasn’t worthy of a note. The first tooth lost that I will never see.

Well, she wakes up this morning and the second tooth has fallen out. But it is no where to be found. Not in the bed, not on the floor. I’m guessing she swallowed it in her sleep?

WTF?

Seriously, I am so pissed about this. We are totally being screwed out of the whole tooth fairy experience. So I guess the tooth fairy is going to come tonight anyway. And leave a note? What do I do?

Last week our friend Omar sent me a tweet that said “in a training class taught by someone from Houston. ‘Everyone drives angry in Houston.'” Being the Queen of Road Rage, I can say that is totally true.

But today on my commute in, my fellow drivers were more SCARY than angry. WTF is up with these people? (click the photos to get a better view)

Mr. Not one, but two grim reapers on my truck.

Ms. You won’t notice these are bullet holes in my door if I cover them with duct tape, right?

I’ve recently been engaged in a text conversation with an 8th grader. He started texting me last week, and well, he won’t stop. Because he doesn’t believe he has the wrong number. WTF? Oh, and this is on my work phone, which isn’t supposed to be able to receive or send text messages in the first place. Somehow Patrick (my texter) has found a way around that. Guess 8th grade is teaching him something — clearly not spelling, but something.

Here is the transcript so far …

Patrick: Wat up

Patrick: R u going to 8th grade game

Patrick: Kale?

Patrick: Hey i will help u with ur hand shake later

Me: You have the wrong number

Patrick: This is patrick how is this the wrog number

Me: You have the wrong person’s number. I am not Kale.

Patrick: Who is this

Me: Rhonda

Patrick: Do you go to this skool mpjh

Me: No. I am a grown up.

Patrick: This kale i know it

Me: The only Kale I know is the vegetable

Patrick: kales a girl

Me: I suggest you find Kale and ask for her correct phone number

Patrick: how old ru

Me: That’s none ya

Patrick: wat?

Me: None ya business

Patrick: why

Me: Patrick, I am sure you are a very nice kid, but please quit texting me

Patrick: why

Patrick: is this kale?

WTF, Patrick? I thought we already established that I’m not Kale!