The first WTF of the year! And I am so excited NOT to be talking about illness!

Remember when the McDonald’s “Sauce Policy” made WTF Wednesday? Well now we have the Sonic ketchup policy. So you have to buy the “Sonic” size to get three little ketchup packets. I like a lot of ketchup, so that crap will not fly. And personally, I think they need a seperate policy for tater tots, because obviously those require more ketchup.

Silly Cosmo is at it again. I might start having a WTF Wednesday dedicated just to them every month. So apparently our collective breasts called and they need some pampering. I find this hysterical because my breasts are the last body part that would be calling for some “pampering” — right after my feet, back, heck, even my colon would call before my breasts. I’m starting to think that Cosmo is run by men.

And finally, I took this photo at Target on December 30. That’s right. Valentine’s cookies for sale before the new year arrived. WTF? Who is even thinking about Valentine’s Day now, much less last week? I love Target, but sometimes I wonder about their marketing department.

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!

Another Wednesday, another talk about lady crotches.

Guess what sexy style is back, girls? According to Cosmo, and Jessica Alba’s crotch area, the “untamed va-jay-jay!”

YEAH!

I mean, WTF?

Not only do I not care, I don’t want to talk about it, and I certainly do not want to think about untamed va-jay-jays in the checkout line at the grocery store. Isn’t there something better to write about on the front cover of your magazine? This is why I didn’t become a journalist.

P.S. I’m so glad Anabella can’t read yet … I’m not prepared to answer the what-is-an-untamed-va-jay-jay question!

WTF is up with the new Sun Chips packaging? If you haven’t bought one yet, you have been warned – this bag of chips is the loudest thing you will ever come across.

Last night, Dan pulled them out of the pantry and the sole act of grabbing the bag woke me up in the master bedroom (which is a long way from the kitchen). Even just putting the bag in the shopping cart was an experience. People actually turned to look and see what I had in my hand.

I am all for recycling – we recycle as much as we can – and the idea of a compostible bag is great, but this bag makes me want to say “too bad environment, I want the old crappy, wasteful bag back!” So this morning I dumped the remainder of the chips in a Ziploc and sent the bag from hell on its merry way to compost heaven.

I encourage you to at least touch one of these bags next time you are at the store. It has a special loudness to it that doesn’t compare to anything I’ve can come up with. Let’s just say it’s more disturbing than 1,000 people wading up a piece of aluminum foil at the same time. Or 20 people running their fingernails down a chalk board. It’s more irritating than those Vuvuzelas. You get the point.