Famous last words #38: What could possibly go wrong?

Deutsch: "Kopfschmerzen". Die wohl b...

Deutsch: “Kopfschmerzen” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Oh, my God.  Week from Hell.  Worst.  Week.  Ever!  to quit caffeine.  There needs to be some kind of Caffeine Anonymous program with sponsors you can call when things get tough:  “Man, I don’t know what to do.  I got three hours of sleep, I have ten errands to run after work, and my computer just blew up.  It would be so much easier to deal with all of this if I could just have some caffeine.”  “Take a deep breath, Little Blind Girl.  You can do this.  Just take it one day at a time.”

I made it through the week, more or less, with rather less in the way of running and rather more in the way of beer and Italian restaurants (sorry, Doc), but only a little more.  I thought I was safe on the weekend.  I’d done the hard part.  I’d gotten through Hell Week without caffeine.  It was Sunday evening.  What could possibly go wrong now?

Slight digression:  there are things you must never say, or even think.  They are as follows:

  1. I’ll be right back.
  2. Everything’s under control.
  3. It’s probably nothing.
  4. What does this button do?
  5. What could possibly go wrong?

Lesson learned.  No sooner had I said this to myself than my Darling Dad called and wanted to know everything about my savings and retirement situations right then over the phone, down to the last penny in the accounts and the tax consequences in the event that I predecease both parents but am survived by my step-nephew.  And he needed to know it immediately!  Slight exaggeration, but only slight.  I don’t have a step-nephew.  That I know of.

I dealt with Darling Dad, hung up the phone, sighed, and decided I needed a soda.  A non-caffeinated one, obviously.  So I started off to the convenience store across the street and what did I find hanging on the handle of my apartment door?  Was it the decapitated head of my pet horse?  A voodoo doll of me with a pin through each eye?  No.  No, it was something far worse, something calculated to cut through all of my defenses and bring me to my knees in mere seconds.

It was a bag of three bottles of Mountain Dew soda.

They were probably from my neighbor trying to be nice, after I’d had such a hard week and all (the nightmares may have clued him in, with me shouting “No!  I swear!  I’ll get the report in by Tuesday!” at 2 in the morning), but really I think it was the Karma Gods coming for me.  It’s only fair.  I knew better.

Now to publish this blog post.  So many widgets and banners and buttons on these blogs…what does this button do?

Mirage Volcano 2

Mirage Volcano 2 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)








I’ll be right back!

I just can’t swallow this

Mountain DewImage by compujeramey via Flickr

I have a new worst fear.  No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll never be safe from…the dissolved mouse!

From an article in The Atlantic:  Pepsi Co., facing a lawsuit from a man who claims to have found a mouse in his Mountain Dew can, has an especially creative, if disgusting, defense: their soda would have dissolved a dead mouse before the man could have found it. An Illinois man sued Pepsi in 2009 after he claims he “spat out the soda to reveal a dead mouse,” the Madison County Record reports. He claims he sent the mouse to Pepsi, which then “destroyed” the remains after he allowed them to test it, according to his complaint. Most shudder-worthy, however, is that Pepsi’s lawyers also found experts to testify, based on the state of the remains sent to them, that “the mouse would have dissolved in the soda had it been in the can from the time of its bottling until the day the plaintiff drank it,” according to the Record.

A friend of mine posted this on my Facebook wall, knowing my love of Mountain Dew.  Was it out of concern?  Was he teasing?  I’m not sure, but I definitely cringed while I was reading the article.  A mouse!  Drowned in the Mountain Dew!  How disgusting!  But what a way to go.

And is Pepsi seriously countering it by claiming that the mouse would have dissolved?  Imagine drinking a soda without realizing that you were drinking carbonated dissolved rodent.  How’s your drink today, little blind girl?  A little whiskery, thank you.  I smugly contemplated the jury having to listen to that argument as I took a swig of my soda…then stopped, and stared in horror at the bottle in my hands…

Did your soda taste a little off today?  High fructose corn syrup with a hint of rat and a soupçon of gerbil, perhaps?  If I were the plaintiff’s attorney, I would make sure that each member of the jury had a soda with their lunch.  I may never drink Mountain Dew again.  You never hear about this happening with a pint of milk.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my vomiting.  It’s going to take a while before I stop thinking I can feel something scampering around in my stomach.

Mountain Dew, you’ve let me down

CC Image courtesy of Ed Yourdon on Flickr

I stepped out of my apartment today to run across the street and buy a soda at the convenience store.  I’d been doing housework, so I was in jeans and a sweatshirt, no makeup, hair not done at all.  On the way to the store, about a two minute walk, I got no fewer than two wolf whistles, a car horn honk with a remark I’m not going to repeat, and a “Hey, shortie!”  I was thinking, man, these must be some good jeans!

So I bought the soda and walked back toward my apartment–and nothing.  It was like the soda made me drop 20 hotness points.  What is it, guys?  Does a Mountain Dew make you think I’m too high-maintenance?  Did you take it as a sign of unhealthy eating and eventual obesity?  Or did I just walk out after all the traffic cleared up?  A friend of mine used to jog alongside a major road, and she would always get comments and whistles.  One day she didn’t, and she sulked until the next time someone yelled something lewd out of a car.  Man, the pitfalls of being a girl.