Do any of you remember eating something, as a kid, plucked directly from the lawn, and supposedly called “sour grass?”
I hadn’t thought about it in years, until I saw something while mowing a few days ago that reminded me of the questionable delicacy. And it’s not real, is it? There is no such thing as sour grass, is there?
It’s just clover and dog piss, right? Thanks, Dad!
I’d like to make an announcement: I am tired of using the nonsensical phrase “OK.” From this day forward I will say and write “LK” instead. Makes just as much sense, right?
LK, now that that’s out of the way… I think we’re going to take our first summer trip to Knoebels this coming weekend. Toney and I both need to disengage from the real world for a few hours, and the boys love it there.
Plus, they have really kick-ass cheese fries, and some sort of bizarre but good sweet tea slushie. That sweet tea slushie has become an absolute must, during Knoebels visits. I wish I had one right now…
Steve’s going to meet us there, and it should be a fun day. My one concern: the place fills (FILLS!) with white trash on weekends. It’s like someone goes around to a few dozen Wal-Marts, lures all the shoppers into buses (probably using pizza flavored snacks as bait), and dumps them at the front gates of Knoebels.
Yeah, that place will be loaded with mullets, t-shirts with the sleeves cut out, generic cigarettes, big mamas hollering at their buzzcut hicklets, people with raccoon bites, profane tattoos, windbreakers as shirts, spitting women, wispy mustaches, wallets on chains, and “obesity canes” with quad bases.
So, I’m gonna lobby for Friday. There’s a HUGE difference between Friday and Saturday, at Knoebels. Wow! Wish us luck.
And for a Question of the Day, I’d like to hear about the most creative call-off excuses you’ve ever encountered. I’m thinking about call-offs at your job, but it could be anything, I suppose.
When I worked at a record store in Greensboro, a drama queen used to call off on a regular basis, because she was “stressed out.” That was her complete excuse.
One day the store director took the girl’s call, and told her, “You’re going to be even more stressed out, when you’re out looking for a new job.” For some reason she never used that excuse again.
A woman also left a message on an answering machine at one of my former jobs. It wasn’t from the actual employee, but from her lesbian lover. She said, “Lisa won’t be in today, because she has a bad case of diarrhea.”
Then it sounded like a whole roomful of stoned women busted out laughing. The receiver was returned to the base, but the call didn’t end. Apparently she was so high, she couldn’t properly negotiate a telephone. And I could still hear what was being said inside the room.
After the laughter subsided a bit, I heard someone yell, “You bitch! Now I’m going to have to go to work!! Diarrhea? I’m going to have to go in, now!”
There was more laughter, the Indigo Girls were playing softly in the background, and someone hollered, “Oh shit! The phone wasn’t hung u-”
Click.
I also had someone call off because her armpits were “infected.” I swear it’s true.
But my favorites are the ones who go into way too much detail, thinking it makes the story more realistic.
“Well, you see, the UPS man came to the door, he was delivering a lamp, and I was upstairs. You know, just reading. A Stephen King novel, Tommyknockers. And I came downstairs and stepped on a shoe. My boyfriend, Mike, left his shoe on the stairs, a white Nike with a little bit of blue on the side, and I fell down and exploded my coccyx.”
Usually these types are spotted at a bar later in the evening, dancing their asses off. Or they go on Facebook and write about how they “fooled” their boss, or whatever.
What creative, or really bad, call-off excuses have you encountered during your travels? Use the comments section below to tell us all about it.
And I’m going to eat a Marlene Coldwater frozen meal now, and drag my ass to work.
LK, I’ll see you guys tomorrow!
WB: I meant the Surf Reporters en masse, actually, but if it made your minute then that’s cool. 🙂
JTB: Terza Rima? Sounds like a smaller yet formidable second cousin to the T-Rex. Or an alien galaxy that we shall never meet. Or a gay sex maneuver.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to put that little smile face on forever.
http://thewvsr.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif
Did I do it?
(sigh) fuck no.
All I did was type a colon and then the parenthesis. It seems to come right up.
Smile, dammit!
🙂
YESSSSS!! Thanks Gretchen!
USA! USA! USA!
You’re welcome. 😉
LivaSnax Flavus 🙂
@Jersey Scott – I apologize for the “Joisy”. I didn’t know it would be offensive, but I promise not to use it again.
@Gretchen – I was referring to the gay sex maneuver. It’s also a type of poetry consisting of 10 or 11 syllable lines, but I somehow had gay sex on my mind.
@WB – Hell, I think you’re a good cause. Maybe we should hold a telethon. Jerry Lewis isn’t working much now, so you could be one of “Jerry’s Kids”. We could raise money to help find a cure for hangovers.
@dto & WB – I just turned 60 and I can guarantee you that in the unlikely event of a four hour erection, my doctor is the LAST person I’m going to call.
It’s 0900 on a sunny Wednesday morning in the great Pacific Northwest. I’m going to go outside and frolic, erectionless but game nonetheless.
After doing work for lawyers over the years I always add an assininity tax to their job. I’m sure there are good ones out there but I haven’t met them yet. Comments like “I’m not paying you, sue me, I have all the time in the world and you will never see a dime” and “I don’t need to pull a permit, we can do this on the sly” have left a bad taste….
In Indiana we use “call in”. When I was younger I wanted to go to the races on a Fryday night so I told my wife to call and tell me we had water lines leaking in the basement. I flew out of work and got home just in time to get picked up and head to Baer Field for a night of racing. The owners son showed up at the house and asked if I needed any help. oops. Got a little hell at work the next day but they learned not to schedule me on race nights.
Now I just say “I am not available for work”.
JTB: I was an English major and of your list the only one I recognized was Cinquain. Dammit, I’m rusty! But given that “Terza Rima” also a gay sex maneuver I think one of us has to submit it to Wikipedia or Urban Dictionary. Preferably with explicit instructions, illustrations, and possibly a flowchart. 😉
@JTB: The “Joisy” thing isn’t offensive, it’s just irritating. I don’t think any true Garden State resident uses this term ( don’t get me started on the radio commercial about how the State Fair will put the ‘joy’ back in ‘Joisey’ … BARF ! )
So … I’m glad it’s a new day and in the future I’ll try not to let my pet peeves about misspellings and not-wholly-correct grammar cause me to dis a fellow WVSR reader.
Do you have an orange tan?
I am getting the last word in; what does that make me?
I wonder if “call-off” is culled from a Clive radio broadcast, because I’ve never heard that before in my many years living in the mid-atlantic..
I must have a great boss – he told me he doesn’t care why I take days off as long as someone can cover. So i just say I won’t be in today.
I used to work with a lady who called in because ‘the electricity was out and she couldn’t open the automatic garage door.” Nice!
At home we call it “laying off”, its a rail road thing, and it confuses people not associated with the UPRR.
I have had the same job for 12 years, and am 2nd in command of the food chain, so I frequentally lay off to take the kid to soccer, help my mom get dinner ready for family stopping by or just to take a ride with my hubby someplace not here. I was at my bosses beckandcall for YEARS worked nights, weekends and every holliday we were open and DESERVE time off when I want it.
I only have one great qutting story to add, I once left a fast food job in just my jeans and a bra ‘cuz I was done and they wanted their shirt back. When I got home my Dad looked up, laughed, and said well I’m guessing you quite today huh? What are you going to do for work this summer and would it be too hard for you to keep some clothes in your truck from now on for just this sort of ocasion?
Just surfed in for the first time, liked what I saw, and was purusing the archives. I didn’t see that anyone actually answered the question about the sour grass.
It is real, and very common in the south and midwest, especially around the outside walls of sunny country houses.
What it is: common wood sorrel (Oxalis acetosella).
Man I love that stuff. Back in Missouri we called it “sheepshire” for some ungodly reason lost in the mists of time. As a kid, I probably ate more sheepshire in the summer than lettuce… and Mom never served it at the table. We just picked it and ate it as we rambled the countryside, like roadside blackberries.
It’s taste is like eating equal parts Granny Smith apple and leaf lettuce, with some of the tart part of a SweeTart thrown in. In fact, as a fan of the Food Network, I shake my head because lots of hoity-toity restaurants use sorrel in high-dollar dishes. Mostly in salads, but often as the basis for a green sauce for things like lamb and fish. I’ve experimented with that myself, but much prefer to just eat it out of hand.
Sorrel is abolutely unmistable when you find it. It looks like clover, more like tiny three-leafed shamrocks, with little yellow five-petal flowers and yes, it does grow “pickles.” To me the pickles look more like miniature okra pods, maybe 1/4 to 1/2 inch long and much skinnier.
The pickles are a little more sour than the leaves. Which fact I just verified because, sure enough, even this late in the year there’s still some growing next to my house here in Viriginia.