It occurred to me that I forgot to finish my mouse story. My bad. How dare I neglect a chance to give you, my dear reader, an opportunity to laugh at my dumb ass? Bad Dessie!
Anyway, back to my latest round of stupidity. After my sleepless night, I go home. The honey is not yet home, and there is no way I am going back in the house with the possiblity for mouse bits laying about, so I wait on the front porch. After about 45 minutes, the honey calls home and tells me it is going to be another hour at least before he gets home. It’s starting to get cold, and I forgot the latop at work (tells you how tired I was, right?), so I decide to go inside, and brave the mouse. I figure it can’t get to me on my bed. I lay down, and start to take a nap, because by then, I am tired as hell. I get all comfy, and start to drift off, when McGonagall BRINGS ME THE FUCKING MOUSE!!!!!!!!!!! ON MY BED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He was so proud of himself, and wanted to show mommy his kill. I got up and ran back out of the house, as fast as I could. (Yes, I was clothed this time, thanks for asking.) I sat my ass on the porch and waited for honey to come home. He came home and was struggling to contain his mirth at my completely irrational fear of something the size of my palm, but got rid of the ebil mouse. After I washed all the sheets and blankets in the hottest water I could come up with, all was well.
Its a good thing I adore my Mighty Hunter, because otherwise, I’d have made him into a kittyskin hat for making mommy loose a night of sleep.

So. I am sitting on my bed working on product return form to return some bad sex toys, when I hear McGonagall chasing something into the house from outside. I smile to myself thinking that he caught a grasshopper or cricket or something else equally innocuous. After about 10 minutes of listening to him chasing something, I am sitting there going wtf, he has usually caught the bug by now, so I go to investigate. It turns out that McGonagall had CHASED IN A MOUSE FROM OUTSIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course, my reaction is to scream like a girl, run for my bedroom, and stand on my bed. I called the honey and explained the situation to him in the highest pitch voice possible for my vocal cords. His reaction? Laugh at me. 🙁
So, I am standing on the bed, praying that McGonagall does not chase the mouse into my bedroom, freaking out while honey is laughing at me. I am trying desperately to figure out how to get the mouse outside, preferably before McGonagall kills it, so I don’t have to pick up mouse bits, cuz I am starting to hear squeaking at this point. I come up with the genius plan to run through the house as fast as I can, run out the front door, and open the back door from outside, hopefully bypassing the mouse entirely.
I run out my front door, and around the house, and as am I am opening the back door, I realise I was naked. Now, I have the decision: go in the back door, and risk the mouse, or go back around to the front and hope no one is treated to the full moon. I went with the full moon. What?! Mice are scary!
Anyway, now back in my house, I throw some clothes on and tip toe to the office. McGonagall is staring at some brown bags that are sitting there, so I start suspecting that the mouse is now in the bag. I go get the broom and use the handle to push the brown bags out the back door, praying that the mouse is now outside.
McGonagall is prancing about the back yard being so proud of the mighty mouse hunt, and comes over for mommy to tell him that he is the badassest mouse hunter in the world. I pet him and tell him what a great hunter he is, and we go back inside. At this point, I think the mouse got away and start to get ready for bed. Yay for sleep, right?
Then, disaster. McGonagall heads back to the office and starts pawing at the area by my desk. I am now convinced that the mouse is still inside, but there is nothing I can do because I can’t even get to the area in question with my broom, and I am sure as shit not crawling under my desk to go get a fucking mouse. I decide to go to bed and hope to god I am wrong about the mouse being still in my house. The cats come to bed, and we all go to sleep.
I was up every fucking half hour, because every time a cat moved, I would have to get up, turn on the light, and check my bed for a GodFather moment, a la mouse. I think I got maybe an hour’s sleep total. Boooo.
Honey will be home tonite, so the mouse guts search will commence tonite. whoo!

In my grand tradition of detailing it here when I do something that proves that I am, well, kinda ditzy at times, we have a new “Dessie is dumb” story. Feel free to laugh at me. I am. 🙂
So, the honey and I are out for some sushi at a buffet type restaurant. We go our separate ways to find our sushi. I find some yummy sushi, but in the process, I accidentally picked up some eel. Since eel is SO not edible, especially raw, I was grumbling about it and picking at it all the way back to my table.
I get back to my table and plunk down, and put the offensive sushi on the Honey’s plate, and grab something I like in exchange. Suddenly, I hear someone clear their throat. I look up….
Into the eyes of someone who is NOT the honey. I sat down one table away. The guy at the table is looking at me as though I was fucking insane (which, for the record, I am) and the honey is sitting at our table trying desperately not to snort his sake.
I slinked back to my table with my tail between my legs, and the poor guy whose table I look over left shortly thereafter. Probably didn’t want the crazy lady the table over to rub off on him or something. LOL.
Yes kids, I am crazy.

The reason I was late to work this morning (see my first entry from this morning) was because I thought it was Saturday. I blame this on two things:

1. An idiot who was screaming at me yesterday who said it was Friday at least 4 times.
2. Amy, for having a party on Thursday this week.

My alarm went off at its usual time, and did a “WTF, I forgot to turn the damned thing off this morning?” and went back to sleep. I was sleeping happily when the honey woke up at 7:15 and was all shouldn’t you be at work? I told him to fuck off and die, cuz its Saturday, and went back to sleep. Two minutes later, he wakes me up again and was all, no hon, it’s Friday. He drags me over to the computer where the clock says Friday.
Shit. Blondeness happens.

I had two parties this past weekend. Both of these stories are exhibit A for why I should *never* do parties with a migraine, or while strung out on migraine meds. LOL.
Party Tragedy #1: First party of the day. I tripped over my own toes, and fell on my face. I had an open jar of Strawberry Tasty Tease in my hands, and it splattered all over my hostess. I am such a bad ass, aren’t I? Hey, she liked it enough that she still bought it. I guess she sneaked a taste while she was cleaning it off her. Heh.
Party Tragedy #2: Second party of the day. We have two products that do VERY different things in similar tubes. One is called Ready to Go, the other is called Tighten Up. At a certain point in my presentation, I put the Ready to Go and another product in the bathroom for the women at the party to try. Well, in my tiredness and migraine-yness, I put tighten up in the bathroom instead. It was not until every woman at the party had tried it that I realised that boo-boo. So, I had women making jokes the whole night about their clit’s getting tightened and falling off. Terrific.
So, I am a klutz *and* a ditzball. Whoo-hoo me. 😛

This is a little bit of an old story, but, it’s too funny not to share. I sell adult products on the side to make some extra cash. This is from the night I got my demo kit.
So, I get my demo kit, and of course, in my excitement, I immediately dig in to the unpacking in the middle of my living room. So my sister and I are in our t-shirts and shorts in the living room unpacking sex toys and tasting various edibles.
Unbeknownst to us, my cat, Tigger, was in the office attacking the fax machine for making funny noises. Apparently Tigger felt that they best way to combat the evil fax machine was to dial 911 with his kitten paws. Of course, when he connected, there was no one there, so the 911 operators dispatched a patrol car.
So, there is a knock on the door, and my sister answers it because we were expecting someone to come over. Just as she was opening the front door, I picked up a can of Edible Whipped Creme and decided to have a taste. I tried to get a bit out of the can, and I guess it was super full or something, because it exploded whipped creme all over me, to the amused looks of LA’s finest.
Here I am, covered in whipped creme, surrounded by about 1000 worth of adult products, and all with the LAPD looking on. I head to the bathroom to get the whipped creme out of my hair, and my sister is busy trying to convince the cops that we are really fine, honest.
The officers left, but not without laughing all the way to their f-ing car at my blonde self covered in sex toy whipped creme. I am a classy dame. 😛

Well. I thought that I was perfectly ok with my earlier ass issues, because I had a jacket that I just happened to have brought to work this morning. Beautiful, right? Well, I wore my jacket today, and tramped about the office thinking I was golden- everything seemed to be covered.
As I was walking to my car today, I happened to get a glimpse of myself in a shop window. Yes, ass is completely covered. No, wait, shit. Ladies and gentlemen, my jacket was NOT long enough. I walked about work the whole day with my ass hanging out of my jeans.
For the record, I was wearing a very pretty black lace g-string. Although most of the people who worked with me today already knew that.
I am a class act. Really.

So, I am having a horrible morning at work already, right? I have been running around trying to put out fires for a very rude pompous arsehole whose stuff can stay broken until the end of time as far as I care. (That is a topic for another rant, I think.) Anyway, so I come down to go talk to the aforementioned arsehole, and while sitting in my chair, I hear a sickening tearing sound.
My pants split down the arse. From inseam, to mid-arse right under the pocket. There is ass hanging out EVERYWHERE. To make things worse, I do not approve of panty lines, so to quote my friend Jes who was in a similar situation, Sisquo would approve of my undergarment choice. I get to go through 6 more hours of work with my ass hanging out. Yay! :-/
My ass is stuck to my leather chair. Great.