Beating a Dead Horse

The Boozy Weathergirl
Mar 19
3 min read

Don't travel to Florida with me. If you do, something will happen, and you will be stuck there for at least three days longer than you planned to be. At least you'll have Deep Thoughts Thursday with The Boozy Weathergirl to read while you're on the beach.

1

Forever 21 filed for bankruptcy this week. I guess forever isn't Forever.

2

The next three observations stem from my last weekend of travel, without being offensive or obvious. First, in our hotel room, there was a picture of a coat hanger with a red line through it next to the (fire) sprinkler that read, "Contact with Sprinkler will Cause Flooding." Seriously, folks - Why is this necessary? Who the fuck is hanging their clothes from the sprinkler?

3

Our hotel had a great, free breakfast buffet. However, the one thing that stood out was the vat of creamed corn. I've lived in the South. I eat grits and gravy, but I have never drummed up some creamed corn for breakfast. I feel like the chef was back there, they ran out of bacon, and perplexed, he said, "Just throw out that corn shit. They'll love it." Pretty sure my husband is the only one who even put it on his plate...

4

On Sunday, very hungover, a friend and I started dissecting the phrases "Beating a Dead Horse" and "Killing Two Birds with One Stone." How did these come into being? Like, who was the masochist that started pummeling a lifeless pony? And who took their slingshot and aimed it at these BFF birds? #psychos

5

Wobbly tables in restaurants. Why is there always at least one, and why is it always the table at which I sit? And why is there not a Shark Tank idea for a universal table leg wedge that all restaurants have readily available? I mean, how many damn sugar packets need to be wasted until this is done? Plus, how awkward is it for whoever has to go down under the table to fix it? Does the waiter/waitress really want full view of our crotches? Does anyone?

6

I probably mentioned this before, but my left boob is the perfect prop for any cup. Driving, holding my Yeti, but don't want to put it back in my drink holder? Rest it on my left boob. Wine glass arm getting tired at a party? Rest it on my left boob. Trying to decide whether or not to toss a drink in some asshole's face? Rest it on my left boob.

7

I never realized how much I used my pinky finger until I slit it open with a paper cut.

8

My lovely friend, Ellen, sent me a Reel that highlighted toys we all used to have that would cause the Karens to call DCF on us nowadays. Among them were a) an atomic energy lab that used real mercury; b) lawn darts where you threw steel blades at your friends and family; c) the Easy-Bake Oven where you could burn your hands, fingers or eyebrows while setting the house on fire; and last, but not least d) the Slip-n-Slide that could be fun or could cause lifetime paralysis when you slipped and slid into that grand oak tree in your yard.

9

This is not from personal experience (recently anyway). But I was having a discussion with someone who was ranting about his/her boss, stating how annoying it is when you've been saying something for months and, out of nowhere, the boss has this coming-to-Jesus moment, taking credit for the exact fucking thing you've been telling him/her for months!

10

Did you know that if you say, "fuck off" backwards, it still says "fuck off," except it's in an Irish accent.

On my way out to Florida, I came up with the best idea (that is not at all original). I was enjoying a couple of pre-flight, canned espresso martinis, and I had a half-full can at boarding. So, I asked my butler, I mean husband, to run to McDonalds and buy me the biggest soda cup they offered, then I dumped that soda in the garbage and replaced it with that half can (and another) of espresso martini. And you "can" too...