Tag Archives: Takeo

Dee Plane, Boss! Dee Plane!

6 Jun

I have one tattoo.  It’s a small colorful butterfly on the back of my neck.  It was a very trendy design in the 90s, and I’m pretty sure I was wearing ripped jeans, a flannel, and hiking boots while listening to Sublime when I got it, but I wear it with pride.  That little butterfly reminds me of my adolescence, and besides the usual a-holes and bumps in the road I dealt with back then, I have really happy memories from that time in my life.  

I notice tattoos, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful and a lot of awesomely hideous ones.  Either way, I am always curious about the stories behind every single one of them.  I don’t care if it’s an intricate artsy design or the 90s tribal armband, every tattoo has a story, and I love to hear them.  

I was weeding my garden this weekend when I noticed a man planting flowers along the border of the field across the street.  I don’t know if it was the hot sun or the 3 piña coladas, but from my vantage point, it looked like dude had a huge tramp stamp across the small of his back.


My garden would have to wait.  I wouldn’t be able to get anything done all weekend if I didn’t get to the bottom of this.  I didn’t even know guys were allowed to get tramp stamps.  Isn’t there some sort of rule?  I had to be wrong.  It was probably the bottom of some huge back design:

I stood up, wiped my brow, straightened my gardening hat, grabbed my camera (in case it indeed was a *gulp* tramp stamp), and clogged over to the tree in my front yard.  Damn it!  I still couldn’t see clearly enough.  I would have to approach.

I needed an excuse…..TAKEO!  I ran inside, grabbed my dog and his leash and clogged across the street.  The second I set foot on the curb, I dropped the leash knowing full well that Takeo wouldn’t be able to resist the allure of a possible rub down by a complete stranger.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless!”, I yelled as Takeo ran over to the tatted man.  I hobbled over as fast as my clogs would take me so I could get a good look at the possible  man stamp before the guy stood up.   

I was about 2 feet away before my eyes could focus.  I was frozen dead in my tracks by what appeared to be a dark, billowy, curly, dark, tuft of….hair.

Back Pubes

 Thank goodness it wasn’t a tramp stamp?


Keeping It Classy.

25 Feb

Obviously, I value the integrity and professionalism of this blog, as seen here, here, and here.   Basically, I like to keep it classy.


Here’s a little something to get you through the weekend, with class:

Click here to check it out.  I’ll wait.

I especially like the exclamation point at the end.

Be-otch Better Have My Pancake.

21 Feb

Things have a tendency to snowball out of control at my house.  For example:

Hubby:   Takeo is trying really hard to not get busted watching you eat that pancake. 

Me:   I know.  I can feel him watching me and every time I look at him he turns his head up to the ceiling and starts whistling.

Hubby:  TAKEO!  Quit being such a food whore!  Go lay down!

Pissed Off and Pouty

Me:   Haha.  Food whore.  I like that.  He’s such a food ho. 

Hubby:  I know.  He’d probably eat that chewed up pancake right out of your mouth if you let him.

   **blink, blink.**

Moments later I have a big chuck of syrup smothered semi-chewed pancake in my mouth.  Takeo has eaten various foods from our mouths before (cheese, potato chips, orange slices) but they’ve always been sticking out of our mouths anchored by our teeth making it more of a food grab

This time was different because the pancake would be sitting in my mouth, and on my tounge requiring Takeo to essentially french kiss me in order to get his pancake.

I got into position at the end of the couch, and opened my mouth letting him smell the maple syrup goodness.  This was the most difficult part of the experiement because I was trying not to laugh or choke on the pancake.  Meanwhile, Hubby coaxed Takeo with gentle coos

“Go on, Tiki.  Get the pancake.  You can have it.  Go ahead.”

I can see the confusion in Takeo’s eyes as they quickly move from the ball-o-pancake in my mouth to my eyes and back again.  He couldn’t believe this was really happening.  He could literally smell just how close he was to the syrup drenched mother f-in pancake.

“Go ahead, Tik.  You can have the pancake”, Hubby sang.

Takeo slowly inched closer to my open mouth, extending his nose to the tips of my lips.  At this point, I have tears running down my cheeks from the pain and joy of laughing without being able to close my mouth. 

Just when I think I’m about  to lose it, Takeo leans in, and for a split second he looks me dead in the eyes as if saying, “I’m doing this.  I’m a food ho.  There is no rock bottom for me  What’s your excuse?”.  Then, he makes his move: 

Gross?   A little bit.  Deliciously hilarious?  Definitely.