Clearly this person does not watch TV. Or listen to the radio. Or read newspapers and magazines. I’m pretty sure this car was a prime candidate for the Cash for Clunkers program … it was probably even featured in the paperwork.

String to hold down the hood? Duct tape holding the side mirror on? Is there a mouse under the hood or do they just pedal this thing like Fred Flintstone? WTF? That “H” isn’t for Honda, it’s for hoopty!

This week WTF Wednesday revolves entirely around food. Wasn’t planned that way, but I am sure it has something to do with eating my feelings. Whatever.

So, WTF is this? Who drinks this? Is this a hangover cure or does someone truly enjoy beer and tomato juice? I need to know.



I took my friend Tracie some Taco Bell last week (she just had twins and isn’t getting out much … you know you are f*cked when Taco Bell is some sort of rare treat), and I noticed the packages have weird messages on them like “I collect straws” and “Will you marry me?” Tracie says they’ve been like that for years, but I guess that’s how long it’s been since my last trip to Taco Hell. Then the communicator in me got very annoyed … WTF is the purpose of this? It doesn’t make me laugh or want to buy more crappy tacos.




Finally, these immediately got my attention at the grocery store. I’m not sure what branding mini-cucumbers does for High School Musical (and it probably doesn’t help cucumbers much either) and quite frankly, it seems a little dirty to me.

This is what the last few days have been like for me. Basically a “WTF?” week … all the way around.

In fact, WTF monkey is going to be my new mascot. Whenever I post him, you know to send over some booze and comfort food.

“What the f*ck am I doing on the executive floor?” Edition

It’s week two of my life on the executive floor. It’s been surprisingly okay and I haven’t had to taper too much. In fact, I thought it would be very quiet and proper, and it’s actually quite the opposite. I’m still not dropping f-bombs or taking dance breaks, but it’s only a matter of time.

So here’s the scoop.

More security than Fort Knox
Cameras everywhere! Coming or going by elevator? Someone knows.(Don’t pull your panties out of your butt in this elevator lobby.) In fact, I probably got a demerit in my personnel file when they saw me taking this photo.

“Did you know you have gone to the restroom five times today? We know. We see you.” WTF? Can’t I walk past the freight elevator without Big Brother checking me out?

The bright side of all this security is that practically no one has access to the floor. You don’t get to see me unless I want to see you. Muahahahaha.

Top-notch snacks and such
Free soft drinks and Starbucks every day, all day. We even have several blends to chose from … and no more powdered creamer. Hooray.

We also get to nosh on the remnants from executive meetings. Free chips and pickles? You had me at “leftovers.”


Helpful signs everywhere
Did you forget how to wash your hands? There’s a handy how-to guide right next to the sinks. (Really? Even my four year old remembers how to wash her hands.)

Stressed? Feeling the pressure of being on the executive floor? If that is you in picture #3, you need a massage. (WTF is up with that couple in the middle? Did they get a headache when they realized they were at Olan Mills? Or maybe they need a V8.)

And finally, awkward moments

My favorite was going to the ladies room and finding the CFO and an EVP having a powwow. I wasn’t sure if I should just turn around and come back later, or go ahead and do my business. Do I really want to pee in the background while they are making important executive decisions?

Morons on wheels
I can’t get away from them. My tolerance is definitely low (because I didn’t have to drive in rush-hour traffic from 2000 to 2008), but I think I attract the dumbest of the dumb. Not only did this guy drive halfway on the shoulder for the entire 10-mile stretch of freeway (even on the overpasses … he was maybe a foot from the bridge railing), he was also tailgating and stomping on his brakes randomly.

This person is why I can never get a concealed handgun permit.

Didn’t need to see that

This was at the checkout line. Ugh. President Obama does not make a pretty woman. And WTF is up with putting him in drag at checkout anyway?

Ruining crappy TV for everyone

I just need to pee

Okay, I am all for having something to say, but you need to pick an appropriate time and place. I couldn’t decide if this was a “deep thought” or just a commentary on toilet paper. After a moment or two, I was like “WTF? I’m in the bathroom.” Could we stop with the 24/7 messaging? I just want to pee and look at the bathroom door.

Dear Mr. Scooter Rider:

WTF are you doing on the freeway in the middle of rush hour, IN THE FAST LANE, on that effing thing?? It was irritating enough when we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic and you kept messing around with the strap on your helmut and nearly falling off every 10 feet. But when we broke free from the pack — and you couldn’t go over 45 MPH — well, let’s just say my road rage nearly got the best of me.

It would have been totally wrong to gently bump into you with my SUV, but at least my blood pressure would have been back to a normal level.

Please stop kidding yourself … that is not a motorcycle. It’s a glorified moped. And you ride your moped to the neighborhood pool and back. Just like I did when I was in high school.

P.S. If this is your mid-life crisis, you really missed the mark.

P.P.S. And don’t let me catch you in anything leather.

Saw this sign at the church where my girls attend a Mother’s Day Out program. They also serve breakfast to the homeless every morning.

Anyone care to speculate on what kind of bathroom vandalism would cause an entire PBJ lock down?

The unfriendly skies
WTF is up with all the plane crashes and near-misses lately? A plane crashed in Iran this morning… a foot-long hole “opened up” in the fuselage of a Southwest flight on Monday … doesn’t seem like a good time to get on a plane, huh?

We haven’t been traveling much these past two years because taking toddlers on planes not only makes you incredibly unpopular, it also makes you feel like an unqualified cat herder. But with all the recent crashes and emergency landings, Dan and I have discussed taking separate flights next time we travel somewhere without the kiddos. Not that I find that to be a bad idea. Might as well get a break from everyone, right?

Why senior citizens shouldn’t give birth
Remember that woman who had twins a few years ago at the age of 66? Well, she died. They are 2 years old. They were conceived with donor eggs and sperm, so they have no father or true extended family. Ridiculous. Selfish. Argh.

Taxidermy at it’s finest?
On my lunch-time cruise of TweetDeck (yes, I have a bit of a problem now … I’m hooked), I came across these photos.

Be warned. I got a little queasy when I took the time to think about what I was looking at. The last photo is my personal favorite … and a potential Father’s Day gift for Dan next year. Nothing says “we love you” like mouse-head cuff links.

P.S. I can access “F*ck You Penguin” again today. FU, IT.

The IT gestapo is at it again
First, they blocked the National Nap Month site, because reading about napping is “malicious,” and now they have blocked Kodak Gallery, because it’s a “personal network storage and backup” site. Uh huh. So? Weirdly enough, you can still access Snapfish and Shutterfly and Flickr. Just not the one site I use. WTF?

And it’s also strangely and ridiculously random. I can visit one of my favorite blogs (“F*ck you, Penguin”) one day and the next day it tells me that site is “tasteless.” You can’t email me a document with the word “f*ck” in it, but I can email my list of our 200 top executives that same document, no problem.

Bad marketing, Texas
I saw this sign last week and it gave me the heeby jeebies. WTF is up with the creepy-ass sign, Texas? I don’t mind participating in an extended neighborhood watch, but could we get a better mascot? The guy with the extra wide shoulders, teeny tiny head and crazy eyes kind of looks like one of the Sand People from Star Wars.

Inappropriate Behavior
As I sit here writing this, I hear one of my coworkers return to the office. He’s eating something, he opens a can of coke, and then I hear him … clipping his nails??? I walk over to see why he is back, but it’s not Stephen. It’s the janitor. Hanging out in Stephen’s cube for a quick bite and some personal hygiene. WTF? What else is going on in our cubicle nation after hours?

I received the following mass email from a neighbor yesterday:

Hi all,
If you know me you know I have two dachshunds that run out the door, climb under the fence or escape when the yard company does not shut gate totally. I really try to watch them but they are a handful. Thanks to anyone that has or will help me. I am at (address).

Name of Neighbor

WTF, stupid neighbor? I have personally returned your dog(s) at least five times and my babysitter has returned them twice. Once you wouldn’t even answer the door, so she opened it up and threw them in. This is what your note says to me:

Hi minions,
I have two dogs that are a total pain in my ass and I don’t care enough to take care of them. They will probably be run over in the near future, but I’m not really concerned with that … in fact, that would be great because these dachshunds are ruining my life.

If you see them, please go to the trouble of catching them and bring them to me at my earliest convenience. Of course, I won’t do anything to keep it from happening again, so please expect to do this several times. You don’t have anything better to do, right?

The Queen of the Subdivision

P.S. Please do not touch me, look at me directly or use my name in vain.

Have any stupid neighbor stories for me? Feel free to leave a link.