Two weeks ago I was on vacation in Key West, FL. In the center of town there is a little convenient store called "Millie's" which sells British newspapers, groceries, and knick knacks.
Outside of the store there is a statue of Queen Elizabeth. It was VERY OBVIOUS that it was supposed to be of the queen. She had on a rubber mask that looks like the queen's face, complete with grey hair and a tiara. She was dressed in a navy blue suit, and white gloves. That is an outfit I think we've all seen her wearing (at least in pictures).
I was sitting outside right near the statue when a two women walked by. One pointed to the statue and turned to her friend proclaiming loudly "That must be Millie!"
I looked at her, blinking, and said "Um...that's the queen?" The women turned to me, looking very confused.
"You know the queen...of England."
It was as if a light bulb went on in her head. "Ooooh!" She and her friend laughed. I just rolled my eyes.
It's time like this where I stop wondering where that "Americans are stupid" stereotype comes from.
Sorry, guys. My boyfriend had last-minute surgery last week and flew me up to Cleveland to take care of him. I only got online a couple of times, and just to check my email. I'm sure the queue is full now. I'll try to start going through it today. Thanks for your patience.
We were watching CSI, and they analyzed a torso that appeared to be a human one. However, once they analyzed it fully they decided that it is not an human torso.
Me: If it's not human...I wonder what it is?
Step-bro: I BET IT'S AN ANIMAL!
Me: *sarcastic* No way it has to belong to a bug!!
He's 17. He's a high school graduate. He is also one of the stupidest people I know, obviously.
I think my family has issues.
I was at this camp with people from eight years old to fifteen. I was talking with a twelve and thirteen year old, and somehow we got onto the topic of Africa.
Twelve year old: Can you name all the states in Africa?
Me: What? There aren't states in Africa. It's a continent. There are countries, not states.
Twelve year old: What? No it's not. It's a country with lots of states like the US.
Thirteen year old: Yeah, it's a country!
A few other people and I tried to convince them it was a continent, not a country. They then proceeded to go around the camp, asking a bunch of random people if Africa was a continent or a country. Even one of the eight year olds knew it was a continent! The two would barely believe it when we showed them a dictionary with the correct answer in it.
I work in the customer service department of a large company that deals with children, so we have children's names on file in our system. Today a coworker of mine received a call from a parent wanting to update her child's name. This is no big deal--happens every day with divorces, marriages, adoptions, etc. It turns out that when the child was born, Mom was too stupid to think of a name in advance, so they did a bunch of this child's paperwork (one assumes the birth certificate, Social Security number, etc.) using the name BABY GIRL SMITH. Okay, fine, some people take a little more time than others, so my coworker went ahead and went through the process of changing the kid's name. At that point, the mother mentioned that she was just now getting around to selecting a name and changing over this child's existence into her new name. The child was born in July of 2003.
(cue me and my co-workers laughing hysterically for several minutes...)
A few months ago I had one of my more infamous brain farts. (I have them a lot lately. I blame my husband and old age.) It was early morning and I had just taken a load of laundry down from the line in the backyard. So I'd hauled it in to our bed room to pile this insurmountable heap of Shawn's underwear on the bed to begin folding.
While I had been out grabbing his tighty whities, he'd gone to get our cockatiel, Sergeant Beakers from the cage.
Unaware of this fact, when I plunked the ginormous mountain of neither region covering white, it startled the bird to set flight. Fluttering in a semi-confused circle due to his feathers had not yet grown out from breeders clipping, he brushed up against my face and I called out to him simplistically, "Up! Up! Beaaaaakkkerrrr-up!"
Since Beaker was still a babe, so to speak, he knew the command for up meant perch, or come to me. Or at least, I think the pea-brain understood the gist of it. He tried his best to circle around awkwardly again to land on my outstretched arm. To no avail, he plummeted water buffalo gracefully to the floor.
Nevertheless! He tried, so I bent down to pick him up and let him know through positive reinforcement that he'd done the right thing. I open my mouth and what came out of it?
The silence from the general area of the computer desk where my husband sat was palpable. I froze, half bent over the bird knowing immediately what had happened yet not quite believing my brain, along with my mouth had futzed communication so badly.
A few seconds later our large, big black cat Raven, wound her way along my husband's legs. He bent down to pet her and said, "Good hippopotamus!"
...I have yet to live this down. He reminds me on occasion by calling our dog an alligator and the bird a giraffe. Just to keep me in my place.