Amy’s got a gun…and Cliff has issues with campaigners
So Sunday I was innocently lounging around watching episode after episode of My Fair Wedding with David Tutera. I’m now TOTALLY obsessed with the show, love him, want to work with him and in total awe of the things people come up with for wedding themes. (Mexican Day of the Dead, rainbows and butterflies, purple princess. Check it out.)
ANYHOO-and the hubs has been teaching me to shoot and it’s actually quite fun and very aggression getting outing. Even if he won’t let me put pics of people I don’t like on targets. Stupid rules. And something about premeditation…
Anyways, there was a gun show and he’d already been once and since I didn’t want to put on pants, brush my teeth or quit watching David-he went alone.
When he appeared sometime later, he had a little black case with him. Now don’t get excited…it was NOT the fancy case you see people carting around diamonds in on The Bachelor. Bummer. My fave color is sparkly, you can NEVER go wrong with that. You could give me a turd wrapped in glitter and I’d be transfixed for quite some time.
He said he got me an anniversary present. After I helpfully pointed out our anniversary isn’t until October 27, which he TOTALLY knew, he said he wouldn’t have much time to shop next month. And he presented me with…
a little 22 handgun. It has a little handle because some of his guns have really big grips and they are hard for me to wield. This one has a totally different safety and magazine release then I am used to so I have to learn something NEW…again.
So now I think I may get my conceal carry permit, some people got robbed where I work. Of course, if I got robbed the conversation would go something like this:
Mr. cracked out robber: “Give me your money.”
Me: “Right. I don’t carry cash. If you take my purse, you’re going to get 12 lip glosses, a ton of immodium, receipts and a Sephora VIB card. And, I’m fond of this purse.”
Mr. cracked out robber: “Dude, I’m a meth-head. I didn’t even understand your words. Give me your purse biznatch.”
Me: *SIGH* “Well can you hold on a second while I dig through my giant Longchamp tote and find my gun, figure out how to turn off the safety and allow me ample time to shoot you in the leg?”
Anyhoo…
Also on my pre-anniversary present day, Clifford tried to kill a campaigner. I was so proud.
J was in the driveway in his car-in the weirdest twist ever he traded in his truck for a Scion and was arguing with XM people in India about setting up the new receiver. They somehow managed to clear my memory stations in the process.
I hear Clifford losing his mind. Barking, growling, jumping around-the way he normally acts when UPS or FedEx shows up. I go upstairs, pants-less in my long t-shirt, to see a little old man with a satchel opening my glass door. (For all I knew he had an axe and a shower curtain in his little man purse satchel thing.)
Me: “What the hell are you doing?”
Him: “I was leaving you a flier to vote for so and so.”
Me: “Well how about you don’t open my fucking front door crazy man?”
Him: “It wasn’t locked.”
Me: “Yes. AND YOU SHOULDN’T KNOW THAT! AND TAKE YOUR FLIER!”
So Clifford tried to rush him when he opened the door. And seriously? I should have let Cliff eat him. It would be survival of the fittest. If you’re so much of a dumb ass that you open a door when a 100 pound rottweiler would OBVIOUSLY enjoy having you for a snack with a side of peanut butter-you deserve to be eaten. I am BEYOND thrilled that my dog has decided to join me in my utter dislike of random people coming to my house. If I don’t know you’re coming, I won’t open the door.
(Also, our neighborhood VERY clearly has signs for no solicitation. And I am not going to vote for someone/buy a product/participate in an activity for which someone has come to my house , called me or left a flier under my windshield wiper. Period. I’m also not going to call a hooker because you gave me a baseball card with her picture and are wearing a t-shirt saying “hot to your room in 20 minutes.” Is she a pizza? On the plus side, I have perfected my death stare to the fact that the hooker wranglers in Vegas don’t even try to talk to me anymore. That’s impressive.)
ANYWAYS, so then I HAD to go put on pants and go yell at J and be all “so now you just let crazy old men try to come in the house while you argue with people in India?”
J was pissed. Lots. Which almost never happens. He’s very calm and patient.
Well, he took off to track down the actual candidate to chew him out for his idiot people trying to come in my house. J told him he was lucky he didn’t get shot. (Very lucky. Assuming I could keep Cliff from killing the dude long enough to get to one of the gun safes, find bullets to load it and get back upstairs while the man still had a face so I could shoot him. Plus, I would think shooting people would be messy. And involve paperwork. And police. And I would probably have had to put on clothes and brush my teeth if it came to that. I would SO not be a happy camper, though I still maintain there is no camping situation in which I would be happy so the term is stupid.)
So yes I’ve got a gun…and if anyone got the Aerosmith reference in the title I would like to assure you that despite my proclivity for not wearing pants I will not be running about the railroad tracks in half-unbuttoned dress shirts-those require ironing. Pj pants and a bra cami are much more likely. Possibly with a tiara.
What would you do if a random dude walked in your house? Have you EVER called or acted on a flier left on your car? Taken up the little men in Vegas on their hot hookers in 20 minutes?
© Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam, 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Amy's Blam 
I hate when people selling crap come to my door. I’ve never had anyone just walk in but my sister has! She was sleeping in the recliner in the front room because her back was out. About 3 in the morning some drunk guy just walked right in. Her pitbull mix just licked the dudes legs. My sister was screaming for her son (very tall teenager) or husband to come out of their bedrooms but they figured she had been screaming all week due to her back and this was just more of that so they kept on sleeping! Somehow the guy wandered on back out and fell asleep in her husbands truck while she called the police! I would have died of a heart attack I think.
YOU GOT A GUN???? I can’t even have a taser!
I totally do not buy, vote for or any other action involving things that are advertised. Unless however they are full page ads in my VOGUE. I hate commercials. I never remember what they are for even if I remember them being humorous. I am a marketing departments nightmare.
Amyblam, I am convinced now not only are we long lost sisters, we married brothers.
First of all, I am weeping with gratitude that the damn elections are over! If I got one more taped, “Vote for this candidate, blaa, blaa, blaa, dee, blaa” phone call, I was going to shoot the phone!
And I also, walk around pantless.
My hubs got a new truck so that it would be easier to ferry his armament of guns to and from the shooting range. He missed our entire dinner the other night and when I say entire dinner, I mean, I sat alone in the Mexican restaurant because that is how we cook in our house, because he was sitting in his truck waiting for the people of India to hook him up.
I am married to Rambo. He loves his guns and his shooting and every single Saturday morning, he asks me to go to the range with him. I am so uncoordinated and full of memory loss that even if I did get it down pat, I would forget when the bad guy comes into the house. The bad guy would have to help me. He did promise to buy me a pink little gun that I saw at his gun shop. Maybe then I’ll get interested.
Oh and by the way, when I pull up your site and my site is still up on my computer, right behind yours, I realize our pinks match perfectly.
Well there was this time I was at home with a one week old baby and a dumb assed plain clothes law enforcement guy came knocking…
Pretty sure if I had my taser back then, I would have shot him in the nuts and would have landed myself in jail…
Btw, my taser C2 is pink – I am considering blinging it out in crystals but fear it may void the warranty 😦
I also don’t open the door. But I leave the windows open. So sometimes solicitors will come knocking and totally see me standing there. They knock harder and I continue to not answer. One guy once yelled at me to open the door. I yelled back, “I’m too busy dialing 911 about this stranger banging on my door.” It felt goooooooooood.
THAT GUY IS LUCKY. VERY lucky. WOW. I dunno what I would have done to have a random stranger enter my apartment but I’d probably hit him over the head with the nearest frying pan because that is the only tool I have available in my place that would do any amount of damage. I’d also be terribly terrified to learn how to handle a gun. I’ll stick with the pan and maybe pick up a can of mace.
If the hooker gets there in over 30 minutes, do you get her for free?
Dog (my dog’s uncreative nickname) would have ripped off his man purse and eaten him whole. He’s old and cranky and he’s a mix of bloodthirsty German Shepherd and angry Chow.
we once walked into our house to heavy breathing and panting…I sent the kids back outside and called the police on the cell.
Turns out a DOG had somehow gotten in!!!!!!!!!
Hahahahahahaha…I would have been just as peeved.
ok – lmao at Alexandra!
I open the door, with the dog right next to me.
And I had NO idea that you couldn’t do target practice with pictures. Premeditation, what?
I hate flyers and cold calls. When I want you I will call you or find you. I usually say I’m not interested and keep walking/close the door. Or pretend I’m not home.
Here’s the thing. I personally detest people coming to my door. However, flash back to summer/fall of ’04. I was working for the DNC going door to door for campaign contributions, registering people to vote and the like. I never opened anyone’s door for any reason without permission, but I was once spit on by a very cranky lady in Churchville, PA who tried to get the cops to get me to leave the neighborhood with no signs or warnings against solicitation. Because of that unnecessarily mean senior citizen, I made more money than anyone that day because everyone else in the neighborhood thought she was a crazy bitch, which, obviously, she was…so…I’m just giving the other side’s perspective. I much preferred the drunk men at the Jersey shore inviting me in for wine spritzers and writing me checks for $600.
I would have been far happier had he been offering cash and/or wine spritzers.
Wouldn’t you have loved to hear the conversation where the candidate “fired” the volunteer worker for entering your house?
And I go out of my way to avoid buying something from or voting for people who put trash on my car.
Holy Hell I just snorted whipped cream vodka through my nose from all of the funny. Also? They make pink guns. My friend Lilsaej has one – along with a permit to carry. The pink gun fits perfectly in her pink Coach bag. Also? Clearly I need to come visit you, like, STAT.
Come on down! J said they had the gun in pink but it was several hundred more just for the color and he thought it was stupid.
Can barely type as I am still laughing…the whole conversation with the robber is fabulous as is David Tutera. I saw the Day of The Dead one. What he did was amazing. I am trying to come up with some theme that will make it impossible for the show to turn down the opportunity to help me out. I don’t have a groom yet either but, I consider that a minor detail :).