Pete the Penguin Lives On…Not in My Heart, But in Florida

After the cruise, Kiefer and I wandered around Port of Tampa. You know what’s at the Port of Tampa?

Do you know what you can do at the Florida Aquarium?

PET A PENGUIN!

So that’s exactly what we did. I, Thoughtsie, touched a penguin. I also learned a lot about penguins, such as…

• Penguins have more feathers than any other bird.
• Penguins poop. A lot. Like every 10 minutes. (This almost made me change my mind about petting one.) And their poop can shoot up to 4 feet. No one is safe. No one.

Except for me. I was safe. I did not get pooped on.

Kiefer, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

Just kidding. Kiefer didn’t get pooped on either.

• Penguins are extremely affectionate. They prefer to eat their fish from the biologist’s hand.
• You know how cats purr when they’re happy? Penguins shudder. It looks like they’re having a seizure.
• Penguins sleep a lot. Sometimes they just fall over because they’re asleep.

We got to see about 10 or so penguins, but here’s the one we got to pet. He looks familiar, doesn’t he?

PETEY!

I’m sure it’s Pete. Don’t you see the resemblance?

Pete the Penguin is ALIVE!

What do you think? Is it Pete or am I in denial?

How To Prepare for a Cruise

1. Pawn your cat off on your parents.
2. Buy 10 new swimsuits.
3. Realize you may have gone overboard (Bwahaha! Overboard! Get it?) and return 3 swimsuits.
4. Wax your underarms.
5. After the underarm pain subsides, wax your bikini line.
6. DoubleTriple check the boarding time so you don’t miss the boat.
7. Buy 5 bottles of Dramamine.
8. Notice your pasty white legs.
9. Apply Natural Glow Firming Tanning Lotion (fair to medium skin tones).
10. Realize you don’t have time for gradual tanning. Apply lotion for medium to tan skin tones.
11. Wonder if your hands look orange.
12. Pack entire summer wardrobe.
13. Confirm that your hands are definitely orange.
14. Drop hints that it would be coolest thing ever if your boyfriend proposed on the cruise.
15. Realize you shouldn’t get your hopes up.
16. Practice your surprise-ring face just in case.
17. Create “Have You Seen Pete the Penguin?” posters to pass out to the water wildlife in case he survived the shark attack.
18. Narrow your book selection down from 10 books to 2. Well, maybe 3.
19. Buy underwater cameras. (Crap. I’ll be right back.)

Thin Mints vs. Tagalongs vs. Samoas

The other day I nearly had a heart attack. Seriously.

But I narrowly escaped death, just like I escaped Ebola infection after reading The Hot Zone. (I have an awesome immue system. Or maybe I’m just becoming a hypochondriac.)

So what caused my heart to nearly stop?

This article: Girl Scouts Cut Back on Cookies.

 

My tummy turned and growled in protest. My eyes started to tear up as I began nibbling my nails (which, disappointingly, taste nothing like Girl Scout cookies). My chest tightened, and underarm sweat soaked my shirt glisten beaded on my forehead.

Pete, I cried, We’ll be together soon!

Then I read the article. Phew! They’re getting rid of Thank You Berry Munch cookies. Dodged that bullet.

I’ve never even heard of those, but I already know why they failed: The majority of the American public does not appreciate the pun.

There are certain food holidays that I look forward to all year.

• Candy Corn season
• Cadbury Creme Eggs season (I bought my first egg a week or two ago.)
• Girl Scout cookie season.

Girl Scout cookie season. Also known as Samoas and Tagalong overload season. While the rest of you crazies stock pile Thin Mints, I buy armloads of Samoas and Tagalongs.

Why? Because they’re better than Thin Mints.

That’s right. I said it.

Commence throwing things now.

I Won the Lottery!

An envelope came yesterday from the State Comptroller. My first thought was, “Crap! Do I owe taxes already?”

Then I saw the words “State Lottery.”

Hells yeah!

Now (::tapping fingertips together::) what to do with my winnings…

• Get a penguin. And his name shall be “Pete the 2nd.” (You can call him Repete—thanks, Hipster.)
• Hire someone to train Pete the 2nd to be a butler.
• Build my dream house: The My Little Pony Dream Castle.
• Save money so I never have to work again. (That might mean sacrificing or downsizing the Dream Castle.)
• Cruise the Mediterrenean.
• Buy everyone in the world in a box of Pop-Tarts. (Maybe just family, friends, and fellow bloggers. Please comment with your flavor requests.)

My dreams have finally come true. All of the wishing on stars and at 11:11 every day has finally paid off.

No more dropping to my knees, arms outstretched to the sky, screaming, “When, Lord? When’s gonna be my time?”

Let me pause to give thanks where thanks is due.

• Thank you, Karma. (I’m pretty sure I won the lottery because I paid for a stranger’s coffee at Starbucks.)
• Thank you, Mom, for holding me in an extra week while you were pregnant. (I played my birthday as lottery numbers.)
• Thank you, Kiefer’s mom, for the same reason as above.
• And last but not least, thank you, Jiminy Cricket. (I always said you were real.)

How much did I win? Let’s open the envelope and find out, shall we?

$2!

Crap.

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones

It’s official: I’m in a harem. Finally, a chance to use my mad belly dancing skills. 

Why am I in a harem? Because A Piece of the Pie Hole (The Idiot Speaketh’s assistant) said so.

I have tons of admirable traits, but she chose to focus specifically on these:

• An satiable love of Pop-Tarts. (It might be more of an addiction.)
• A love of giving everyone on the planet nicknames.
• A contagious smile. (Awwww….)

At first, I thought, “Nicknames? I do that? Really?”

Then this weekend, I had this conversation with a friend’s son. He’s 2. Maybe 3. I spent most of the night tickling his feet. I didn’t get around to asking him his age. Plus, like Tax Credit #4, he had a limited vocabulary.

Me: Those feet are mine!

2-Maybe-3: No! ::giggling::

Me: Can I have your hoodie?

2-Maybe-3: No.

Me: Can I have your cookie?

2-Maybe-3: No.

Me: Fine. Be that way, Hoodie McCookie.

Then I realized I do do (Ha ha, “do-do.” That’s what happens when you hang out with a 2-year-old.) that nickname thing. But I like it. I like it a lot.

My own cat probably doesn’t even know her name because I call her 50 other ones: Bay-bay, Stinky, Captain Stinky Pants, Munchkin, Baby Muffin, Monsieur.

Captain Stinky Pants’s Trick: She taunts you with her tummy and then attacks when you reach for her.

And look at my blog. Nicknames everywhere! (Which reminds me…if I’m in a harem, am I still allowed to have a boyfriend?)

And these nicknames are free for your use.

• Hippie Cahier = The Hipster
• The Idiot Speaketh = Redsy-kins
• Blurt = Blurty McBlurts
• Fix It or Deal = Zombie Princess Leia (Awesome costume = nickname for life)
• Late to the Party = The Sex Pancakes Girl

It’s a common misconception that nicknames have to be short. (Although I do like to refer to The Cheeky Bride as “Cheeky.”)

If you’re having trouble coming up with a nickname, my go-to nicknames are always Name-y McNames-Alot and Name-y McGee.

Example: Izzy McIzzes-Alot and Izzy McGee

And of course, Pete.