Lance Armstrong, Myself and I

I wonder if Lance Armstrong is still single because we have so much in common now.

Don't worry Lance, you have a friend in me (friendship not guaranteed).

Also, in completely unrelated news, but still in France, you can buy canned air straight from Paris for the low, low price of $9.99 without ever having to step foot on a plane, in a hotel or Paris.

Apparently, love is in the air.

The End.

The Tracie Show

My life this week has been completely scripted for me.

Ya'll will be happy to know that three cute guys asked me out this week.

It just didn't feel right, but this is my show, so...

Oh, I have a show now.

If you have not seen "The Truman show," geaux watch it and come back.

That is how my life has been this week.

Today, I was running late and I live in a town that has three gangs.

They only caught me at one spot today instead of one hundred spots.

While running late for an important appointment through town to take an important test I had not bothered studying for because it was a bother,  I began to instantaneously develop this intense fear of good things happening to me.  Then this happened...

I've always been at a unique disadvantage with the Red Light Gang as there are always dozens, if not millions of cars in front of me.  Mostly millions.  But, not this time.  It was as if someone had just parted the Red Sea for me to cross over into the Promised Land.  

I crept through wondering if there were land mines in that lane.  Maybe the Red Light Gang had set a trap for me!

My apprehension transformed itself into a staggering amount of wonderment and joy as I reached the Red Light Gang.  I sat there, though, developing a specific thought in my head that something horrible had to happen to me to balance out the equation of good things happening.

OR

Within seconds, however, the Green Light Gang showed up and dashed them away to harass someone else.  

Maybe, Someone "up there" is looking out for "little ol' me" because I made my appointment to take a test I had not studied for.  My plans, actually, were to study at the red lights.  

Scripted, I tell you.

Scripted.  

Swipe My BMW Please

Working out takes hard work and dedication.  I usually go every morning, but no less than once a month.  Something happened this last week, though,  as I skipped dandily out of the gym ready for a good days work of doing nothing.

I became quickly befuddled when I saw what had become of my well-behaved car that had been sitting there minding its own business in a parking spot.

Someone had swiped my car and just left it! A friend who was following behind me noticed the suspicious car parked next to mine.

I immediately called the police and started to blog about it.  Fortunately, the officer only took a few minutes to get there as he was working out at another gym next door.

As he and I walked around the other car examining it, I noticed all of the different colors and dents on the exterior.  It looked as though a beautiful rainbow had brutally beaten the sweet, innocent car in a vengeance, possibly with a small unicorn.

The tires looked sad and badly in need of high dosages of Lortab.  Ironically, the car was not that old.  It was just too young to have a black belt in hitting every thing in the world.


The officer pulled up the license plate and went into the gym to find the dark-cloaked villain.  I was a little upset that someone had just left my poor car in a state of confusion and ugliness to go into the gym to work on abs.  All I knew was, he better be cute.  Forgiveness is a little easier when he is cute, single and wants my number.


I stood by my car watching the door.  Then, they came out.  Forgiveness was gonna be tougher than I originally thought it would be.   He was a she and not cute at all.  I realized right off of the bat that the woman was obviously pretty smart as she was not morally opposed to looking like Yoda.

It turns out that she was a retired college professor in her 80's.  I watched as she walked closer to my car shaking her head in denial.   In my mind's head I stood there thinking to myself but thinking it at her, "Don't say it, don't say it..."


Then she started to speak.

And boom goes the dynamite.


Suddenly, she could only speak dementia.  I stood there for a few moments basking in the rich tapestry of 1950's culture before walking over to her car and blowing off the newly made pixie dust all over the place.  I sneezed as paint chips raced to my brain to eat away at what little was left.


She admitted the yellow paint on her car (underneath my paint on her car) was from a post she hit at Home Depot the week before.  Also,she had the bumper replaced a month earlier because she had hit something else before that.

Venom slowly seeped from her throat as she denied hitting my car again, while she admitted to hitting everything else in the world including the Amazon and possibly Charlie Sheen.  How could anyone hit the Amazon? Charlie Sheen is understandable...


I just wanted her to admit to hitting my car.  Tell the truth.  I glared at her with my beady eyes as she stood there steadily denying what she had done.  Oh, I thought...

Then, what really hurt my feelings was that even though the po-po said that there was no doubt that she hit my car, (and she had selective memory) he couldn't cite her because it was private property so all he could do was give me her insurance information.

UPDATE: I am currently working with her insurance company and hoping that they pay to fix my damages with no problem.  Meanwhile, I have found out that there have been other hit and runs in the same parking lot by a white car.  Stay tuned for the next episode of...

Also, let me say that I know people well into their nineties who are driving with no problems, so I am not bashing older drivers, she just needs to give it up if she is not going to pay for the damages incurred as a result of her driving skills.  Speaking to people who know her well, she does not have any type of memory loss or dementia.  


I still forgive her one-hundred percent even though she is not cute at all!  My car may be damaged, but I'm not going to let it damage me.  I'm not here for any car...