Cows Are Stupid

The theme of today was “The Cows Would Not Get the Fuck Out of My Way.”

It started this morning when a cow parade decided to camp in front of my path. Keep in mind that I’m driving a four-wheel drive pickup, which is how many tons?  These cows were clearly worried.

“Oh what? You need to get by? Does it look like we give a shit?”

For some reason, I talk to the cows as if they have human reasoning skills.  I cajole. I plea. I try to be nice and friendly before resorting to the curse words and threats. I will say thank you if they decide to move.  I had to drive around a couple who blew me off.

This happened not once, not twice, but three times.  The third time I was blocked by cows, it was afternoon and my patience had all but evaporated.  I’d had a long day.  It was getting warm outside, I had already hiked about three miles, and I had been stopped by a game warden for trespassing (that’s a story for another post.)  The cows were blocking a gate I needed to drive through, and I had no alternative means of exit.  All I wanted to do was finish my work, drive home, sit on my couch, and stuff my face with food, and this newest set of insolent cows were preventing me from fulfilling my dreams.

“Guys,” I said. “You need to get out of the way.”  Then I honked. I had figured out this morning that cows do not respond to simple honks.  You have to keep your hand on the horn for at least five or ten continuous seconds for them to budge.

But these cows?  They just stood and stared at me.  I inched my truck closer to them, hoping that they would assume that I would run them over and then flee from imminent death.  No. They clearly did not give a fuck, as they did not move their plump selves at all from their resting positions.

Exasperated, I climbed out of my truck and pointed fingers.  “Cows,” I said with the most authority one could muster when speaking to a herd of mute animals, “you need to move the fuck out the way.”

A calf moved maybe half an inch to the left.

And they just stared.   Have you ever been stared at by a cow?  I swear those assholes are judgmental.  They do not respond with any other emotion other than judgment and indifference. One was staring at me with what I could only interpret as Cow Hatred.

“Fine,” I snapped, and climbed back into my truck.  Desperate times called for desperate measures.  Keeping my hand on the horn, I inched my truck slowly forward.  I honked and honked and honked and honked, and finally, FINALLY, with many angry MOOOOOOOOs, the cows got up and left.

The last laugh is on me – as I was taking a nap on my couch, I drifted off to sleep and dreamt that I was driving into a herd of cows.  I woke up with my foot pressed against the couch as a brake.


Thanks, Autocorrect

On Friday, I received the following text from my dad:

Dad: You failed me.

My heart sank into my stomach when I read it.  I’m very close to my family but we’ve had our share of clashes this year, so when I read it, I immediately thought, I must have done something wrong again.

I texted back:

Me:  What do you mean, Daddy?

I waited nervously for a couple of minutes. Then the phone rang.  It was my dad, and he was laughing.  I had accidentally dialed him about ten minutes before, so he had meant to text me “You dialed me.”  But Autocorrect made some assumptions and decided to send another message, instead.

Thanks, Autocorrect!

Three Things: The Resurrected Edition

Back on my Vox blog, I used to do a series of posts called “Three Things,” where I basically would post three random things that I wanted to talk about, but didn’t want to do a separate post for.  Tonight, I was thinking of several things I wanted to blog about…and so we have Three Things, the Resurrected Edition.

1.  You ever have one of those unequivocally awesome days? Where the day is awesome, even if, say, you briefly get your rental truck stuck in the mud (more on that in a future post), a normally two hour drive turns into three because of horrendous traffic, or you have to work at 10 pm?  Today was one of those days.

I went to dinner with my running group tonight after a good run (my legs were sore from yesterday. Oh so sore). I am really digging this running group – it’s definitely the favorite one that I’ve been a part of.  I click with all the people in it, and I look forward to all my runs with them.  After months of running together, several times a week, one of us finally said, “Hey, why don’t we go to a dinner/happy hour after our Wednesday runs?” So that’s what we are doing now.  It was a good one tonight.  Everyone found out about my undying ardor for bread, and the fact that I ran into a window at McDonald’s when I was twelve (which I told in response to a story about someone getting her head slammed in a car door).

2.  After dinner, I went to Whole Foods. I KNOW. I said that I don’t shop at Whole Foods, but this was out of desperation. It was within walking distance of the restaurant we were at, and I had to pick up a dessert for a work luncheon tomorrow. I figured it’d be easier to get the dessert at Whole Foods instead of stopping at HEB.

Once I was in the dessert section, I spotted an enticing looking cherry pie.  I looked at the price.


I know Whole Foods is jokingly referred to as “Whole Paycheck” for a reason, but Jesus Christ. I do not care if those cherries were lovingly cultivated in your backyard and watered with your own tears – I refuse to shell out fifteen dollars for PIE.

So instead, I went to HEB and picked up a pumpkin pie for three dollars. THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

3.  Ah, my hometown. So much to love (actually…wait, not really), so much to dislike.  We are not known for much, except for a singer who was gunned down there, and the fact that we placed on Men’s Health list of “Dumbest Cities in the U.S.” a couple of years back.  I hate to say it, but there really is a disproportionate amount of stupid people there.

For instance – yesterday my brother was out with friends, looking at Christmas lights. They drove by a Whataburger at one point, and what they saw was simply amazing:

Spelling Fail, on so many levels


A Regression While Playing Donkey Kong Country

Jen:            Patrick, I want to play now.
Pat:             Wait, no.  You already died and it’s my turn.  You can’t be changing the rules
like that.
Jen:            But you play this game all the time.  I want to play now.
Pat:             You always change the rules to benefit yourself.
Jen:            No I don’t.
Pat:             Remember when we would play Super Mario World, and you would die, you would restart the game so you keep playing?
Jen:            I don’t know what you’re talking about.  You’ve already played this game
forty-thousand times.  Let me play, you dick.

(We both start struggling over the controller)

Pat:              Mom.
Dad:            Let your sister play, Patrick.

I wouldn’t blame you all if you think this conversation took place sometime between 1994 to 1996, but this conversation I posted above proves that a 27-year-old and her 23-year-old sibling can regress back to their childhood at any time with the proper medium.

Questionable Bowling Team Names

An ongoing joke at work for a couple of months now has been what to name the bowling team.  Everyone has been trying to come up with creative names but it’s been pretty funny to see what dirty puns people have been coming up with.  Attached is a small list of the bowling names – I’ve removed ones referencing our specific project.

-Tunnel Rats
-OJ Did It
-Gaga for Lady Gaga
-Boom! Goes the Dynamite
-(Project Manager’s Name) Bitches <- This is probably my favorite
-The Couch Pulls Out But I Don’t

And today I added, “We Like Bad Puns.”