No Kids, No Life, Just a Wife

Wild Effing Kingdom

2009-03-12T21:42:00.002-05:00

No shit man. First, we have The Skunks, a lovely family of 5 living under the duplex porch. Then The Red Fox stalking the million and two Brown Fucking Bunnies, Moles, and Mice. The dogs that stalked my yard startling me at every available turn and turning Speck into a barking, humping maniac.

Then we move in to our other house and have the Fat Old Ground Hog waaaaaay out back and the Younger Chicky Ground Hog living under my shed that dug holes and drove me nuts. And the Red Tailed Hawk that floated high aboveit all,(I don't have as many fucking bunnies), but I worried he'd get it into his head that Speck looked like a bunny..... THEN, over Halloween The Opossum showed up to dig holes in my pumpkins and my trash cans and toss my trash around the driveway with impunity.

But two nights ago Jason and I woke up in the dark of night to a mysterious noise......

Bump. Bump bump.

SCRRRRRRAAAAPE BUUUUUUMP

RRRRAAAATTLE

So I figure it's The Opossum again fuckin with my trash can and I am up out of bed in a flash. Like in Twas The Night Before Christmas, Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. Or whatever. I have a shovel in the Florida room and some slip on shoes. I fly out the door...... and.................................... Nothing. There's absolutely No-Thing out there. Back to bed with me. Good thing I can hit the pillow,close my eyes and Nighty Night. I'm already drooling and mouth breathing. Zzzzzzzz........

Last night? The same bumping and thumping. Instead of flying out the door and trying to catch the culprit, I tossed myself angrily in my bed and thought of the many many MANY ways I could kill this Big Ass Possum.

I have no issue at all smacking this little Trash Soldier with My Big Ass Shovel. Sometimes Soldiers, We Have To Kill Possums. I will, with extreme malice, chop his beady eyed, pointy head Oh Ef Ef. (That means Off for you peeps who don't dig phonetics)

But, here's the little hitch in that giddy-up. I haven't seeeeeeeen the Possum in weeks.

Just. The. Noise.

*RAWR*

Tonight. This Very Evening I was sitting on my couch enjoying some NCIS and a little computing and all the sudden Speck looks up like something is amis. I stop, hit mute, and listen intently. See? I think subconciuosly I knew I was hearing the signiture Bump, Scrape, Rattle and Shake of my little Trash Can Minion. But, I think with a tilt of my head, it was early yet. Like way to early for our Friendly Possum to be up and prowling. On with the slidey shoes, shovel in hand out the door I zip to see........

A Furry Ball on top of my Trash.

With a Black Mask.

And a Long Ringed Tail.

Somina Bitch I have a Raccoon now.

A Big, Trash Lovin', Garbage Can Rattling, Inciter of Dog Fits in the O'Dark hours of the night RA-FUCKING-COON.

Crap. Do I know anyone with a Have-a-Heart trap? They are cuter than Soldier Possum. I don't wanna Chop His Head off.

Pizza Pie!

2009-01-11T16:22:00.007-05:00

I love pizza.

I love cooking.

Why not love cooking pizza?

Dough Recipe:

3 1/2 cups flour
1 cup warm water
2 tablespoons Yeast
2 tablespoons honey
1/4 cup Olive oil
1/2 teaspoon Salt
dried Italian seasoning
dried Basil

Pour warm water into a bowl. The water should be about 85 to 115° F. Test it with your hand. It should feel very warm, but comfortable. Add the honey and salt. Mix by and hand (or any other method) until well blended. Add the yeast and mix some more. Let this mixture sit for about 5 minutes, it'll get kinda puffy or foamy looking. That's a good thing.

Add 1 cup of flour and the olive oil and mix until well blended, it should look like a batter at this point and you should be able to see it growing. Add the rest of the flour one cup at a time (and any other additions) and mix well. I added Italian Seasoning and Basil to mine. Next time I'll add garlic I think. The dough should turn into a ball. Now, mine did not. I needed to add about a half cup more water. If the dough does not ball up because it's too dry, add water one tablespoon at a time until it does. If your mixture is more like a batter, add flour one tablespoon at a time. Adding water or flour as needed to get the right consistency will assure you always get a perfect dough. Just remember to do it in small amounts.

Once the dough is balled up, place the ball on a floured board and knead for about a minute. This builds the gluten which helps the dough to rise and become fluffy when cooked. Place the dough in a plastic grocery bag or a covered bowl and store in a warm, dry area to rise.

After about 45 minutes the dough should have about doubled in size. Smoosh it down. You should be able to hear the air escape. Let it rise for another hour to an hour and a half. The dough is now ready to be pizza.

Divide dough in half. This recipe makes 2 crusts. I stuck my extra in a plastic freezer bag and froze it for another day. Pizza is a good comfort food, no?

Turn your oven on to 400 to preheat. Move your rack as close to the heat (whether it's on top or underneath) as you can get.

Dust your work area with cornmeal. Toss your pizza dough ball on there and start smooshing. I flattened it out with the palm of my hand and by picking it up and stretching it. Whatever works best for you. Just make sure to get cornmeal on both sides of the dough. Throw it on you cooking tray (or whatever you are using, perforated pizza tray or cookie sheet. Obviously not if you're using a pizza stone.) Take a fork and perforate the pizza, leaving an unperforated crust edge area. Supposedly this helps keep it flat.

Drizzle with olive oil and set it off to the side for 15 minutes or so.

Work on toppings. Whatever you want. I made a red and white with onions and mushrooms. YUM.

Pre bake your crust for 13 to 15 minutes. It should puff up prettily.

Pull it out of the oven and add your toppings.

Back into the oven for 25 to 30 more minutes. It should be bubbly goodness when you take it out. Make sure the edges are golden brown and your cheese is nice and melty.

IMPORTANT NOTE:

Let the pizza rest for a few minutes or you will burn your mouth. It will hurt. You will not enjoy the pizza and all your hard work will be for nothing. Wait patiently. Trust me it's worth it.

Hey! I'm back. And I have food!

2009-01-03T14:51:00.004-05:00

So I decided top share my Top Secret Creamy Turkey and Herbed Dumpling recipe with you all. I think it's FAB, but if you don't like rosemary walk away right now. This is Heavy on the rosemary.

Feel free to play around with this recipe. I don't often measure so if you think it needs more stock, or mushrooms, or more onions, whatever! Add away! Food is supposed to be fun and delicious!

Enjoy!

Soup

2 Cups chopped, cooked turkey (make sure to use dark and light meat)
1 big onion, chopped
2/8 butter
Garlic
Stock (I make my own but if you're using canned start with at least one big can)
1 small bag baby carrots Chopped (again you can use big carrots just chop them up and use however many you like)
1 cup Celery
1/3 cup white wine
1/4 cup heavey cream
Fresh Sage, Rosemary and Thyme, finely chopped (to taste)
Salt and Pepper

Dumplings:
1 cup flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
dash of salt
lots of fresh cracked pepper
Finely chopped herbs (you can use any kind I just prefer rosemary, sage and thyme)
1/2 cup milk

Mix dry ingredients and herbs, add milk and mix with fork
You may need to add more milk as you go. I started with a half cup and needed more but didn't measure. Sorry.
You want it to be the consistencey of a wet sticky dough, not firm like bread.

To Make:

Medium-low flame under a large stockpot
Toss in butter, onion and garlic to start sweating
Once translucent add the stock and the turkey
Add carrots, celery and chopped herbs (I also added 2 big sprigs of rosemary as it cooked. You may not want to right away. HEAVY rosemary if you do that.)
Cook until tender
Add white wine and cream
Taste! Add salt and pepper. Taste again.
Give it a stir and turn up heat just slightly to a fast simmer
Drop in dumplings one by one (use the 2 spoon method to get them all approximately the same size)
Now put the lid on and do not lift it for at least 30 minutes
Dumplings should be heavy and moist all the way through.

It's soup!

I get by with a little help from my friends....

2008-04-03T19:01:00.009-05:00

A couple of family friends are trying to make it all on there own but are having a hard time getting up there on the search engines. If you could all link them to your sites I would bake you all cookies or something. And also? Check em out! Great furniture, lovely cutting boards ( I have one. You are jealous), and girl pron! Thats what Romance Novels are right? Girl Porn.

www.burgoonfurniturecompany.com That's Drew. He's a nice guy. With kids! Help send his kids to college! Yeah! Thats the ticket!

And his Lovely Wife

http://www.bethandrews.net/

Link their sites. It won't hurt you any and it might just help them get their sites up and running!

How to Almost fall out of bed.

2008-03-31T19:16:00.003-05:00

Step 1: Sleep for a minimum of 4 hours with one or both arms thrown above head.

Step 2: Have miserable little dog who growls and has fits if you disturb his beauty sleep. Where-in his chosen sleep station is across your lower legs.

Step 3: Have very loud and annoying alarm clock that starts out with a fairly soft Beep Beep Beep which gets progressively LOUDER.

Step 4: Alarm goes off

Step 5: I sit upright only to learn my left arm no longer works. In fact, it seems it is being eaten by Fire Ants and is refusing to cooperate in any way.

Step 6: Scoot carefully past dog to end of bed.

Step 7: Think to yourself "I can probably use my left arm to prop myself up so as to use my right hand to shut off this God-Awful NOISE!" Thinking might not be your best idea first thing in the morning.

Step 8: Try and prop myself up with my left arm which promptly collapses sending me careening toward the floor.

Step 9: Save yourself by catching your face on the bed. Pout and rub your dead arm.

Step 10: Your husband wakes up momentarily and asks if you are OK. When you reply, No, you are in fact not OK, you find out he doesn't really care. He has gone back to sleep.

Step 11: Lay back down rubbing your dead arm while plotting your husbands death.

Step 12: Start Miserable Day.

Beef Stew for You.

2008-03-30T13:54:00.012-05:00

Well I'm back. I know I took forever to get here. Sorry 'bout that. Anyway today I'm going to give you my recipe for beef stew. It's good. And versatile! You could totally turn it into a pot pie if the idea tickles your funny bone! So lets get started!

I started with a bottom roast. It was pretty! Then I flipped that bitch over and cut off the fatty layer. You wont need it. You can cook it up and give it to the dogs. They love it.

Now I cut it into slabs about a half inch think. Then into half inch chunks.

(Note: I was really inclined to say bite sized pieces. But then I would have to get into the mathematical equation of bite sized. You measure your mouth and divide that in half, or thirds depending on how many flavors you want to put in there all at the same time. In this case it would be thirds. 1/3 for meat, 1/3 for veggies and 1/3 for broth. Just so you know.)

NOW! We stuff all that beautiful meat into a gallon sized zip lock because we are going to marinate it for as much time as we have. I like to do it overnight, but it will work with just a few hours too. It's good like that.

What we will be marinating with is a concoction all my own. You can mix it up however you like. I have been known to throw a little Coca Cola in, or a bottled marinate from the store. What ever makes you happy. Here we are going to use black pepper, Chili Powder for a little heat, Worshireshireshire (I can't spell it let alone say it!) garlic, olive oil and Beer. Any beer you have on hand is good. Or you could substitute Soda. I just like to get it all loosened up in there with some liquids, and also they act as a tenderizer breaking down the nasty old connective tissue that makes meat tough. This ain't no Dinty Moore baby!

So lets start adding!

4 shakes of black pepper (I KNOW! I am so technical right!?!?!)
2 shakes Chili Powder
2 full fork fulls of garlic (3 fresh cloves)
Once around the bag of Olive Oil (1/4 cupish)
15 - 20 shakes of Worshireshireshire, oh fuck it, it's Lee and Perrin's.
and 1 full beer or equivalent of soda

Seal up that Zip lock and give it a shmoosh around to get everything mixed and throw it in the fridge for however long you are going to let it soak.

Go ahead! Sit down! Relax! Have a beer! Call someone and have a nice long chat! Let that marinade do it's stuff.

OK! Now it's time to do the cooking!

Go ahead and cut up your veggies. Whatever you like. (I would also like to draw your eye to that beautiful pice of wood those onions are sitting on. That, my friends is a Genuine Burgoon Cutting Board. This will be the next Boos Board so get yours now! While they are still cheap! Seriously, click the link. Check out his stuff. Very nice.) I usually do Onion (4 or five small ones) and carrot (8 to 10 whole carrots but you could totally use bagged baby carrots) for my fresh veggies. I don't like potatoes in my stew. They get a little grainy for my taste. Now, my dad would say turnips should go in and I say NO. Turnips taste like POISON! But use whatever you like. All your hard veggies should go in with the meat.

I make my Rue first. Go ahead! Make it in the pot you want your Stew in. I melt one stick of butter with a dash of Olive oil then throw in a bunch of flour. You'll know when, it'll look like runny paste. Give it a stir and let it cook up. Then scrape it out into a bowl. It doesn't have to be perfect. Just get most of it. Now, your pan is nice and hot, dump the whole Zip Lock bag of meat and marinade in the pot. Turn the flame to a nice low heat. Toss in the carrot strips and a whole can of Broth (the big can).

Now, you can start to drool. Your house should be smelling wonderful by now! If you are so inclined you can add some fresh herbs at this point. It's totally up to you you can chop them or you can add them on the stem to be removed later. I think I'm going to add some thyme.

And now, we wait. Again. This is a slow cooking meal. I like to make it on a Saturday or Sunday then we can eat left-overs all week! And it doesn't have to be stew every night. Make up some Egg Noodles and throw some of this on top, or over rice is good. You could even throw it in a pie crust and turn it into pot pie if you have a husband who thinks like mine. (He thinks if it's been in the fridge more than 2 days it's poison! He'd never have made it where I grew up!)

Now it's almost done. Go ahead and mix in your Rue and stir it until you are sure that it's all dissolved. No biscuits here! I threw in a can of Green Beans, a package of peas and a package of corn. Give it another good stir, pop the lid on that bad boy and let it simmer for another 20 minutes.

Now go ahead and call "Soups On!" and butter your rolls cuz you are ready to eat! Watch your mouth! This is hot right out of the pot. I burned the shit out of my mouth.

Go here. Buy one of these.

2008-03-20T19:01:00.001-05:00

The finest cutting board I have ever used.

http://burgoonfurniture.com/cutting_boards_and_oil/burgoon_cutting_boards/

The Attack of the Killer Beer Can!

2007-12-17T21:27:00.000-05:00

So after we moved din to the new house we decided to have a little get together and watch the UFC. I had enough stuff put away that it was reasonable to think we could have a little party without too much trouble. Man! I was Way wrong on that.

I was puttering around, just piicking up the little bits, the decorations, the extra stuff I just don't know where it belongs yet and there is a closet behind the bar. "Hmmm," I think... "That'll be a good place for some of these bits and pieces" So I go and put some stuff in there and as I go to shut the door it sticks a little. No biggie. I give it a little jiggle and a shove, no problem! The door slides shut. Next thing I know my teeth are clacking together, my head figgin hurts and I'm looking at the floor. I do the 'Owey, oh holy fucking hell that smarts a bit' dance for a minute and when my eye stop watering I look to see what fell on my head. I can not express to you how much a Full Beer Can hurts when it hits you on the head very unexpectedly. I had a nice Crescent Shaped Lump, Of course it was off center just enough to do the most damage. I text'd The Capt and tell him his Step Father might be trying to kill me with beer cans and one just hit me on the head For No Reason! His response? It's magic! He actually said "Good". I may have cussed at him a little. So, anyway, the weekend after I throw myself down an embankment (my FIL's leaf blower) a ber can (from my FIL's collection) magically tries to kill me. I think I see a pattern. Could this be voodoo? (power of voodoo, Who do? you do, Do what? remind me of the baby!)

So now you are all caught up. I moved, then hurt myself. A lot. I am good at it. Anyway! I'm off to LA for Christmas. Have fun and look for crazy pics!

YAY! Post number 100!

2007-12-17T21:11:00.000-05:00

Now for the apologies! I am a big jerk. I know! I have brought you no Funny, and hardly any good stories. I spent all (Most? Some?) of November packing and being generally unsuitable for conversation due to said packing. Plus I had Thanksgiving with the Crazy almost Irish mob side of His family. Yes, I made sure to put HIS because I have enough crazy, he can keep his. We, and when I say we, I mean I and a random assortment of his friends moved my entire house on Black Friday. It Rocked heartily. (LIES!!! ALL LIES! MOVING BLOWS!) but at least we have friends who will help us move. That is kinda cool. So anyway, I spent the rest of the weekend cleaning, painting and picking up general clutter and bits that are always left behind. naturally, that is the weekend we got the first and second big frost so all the leaves fell out of all 6 trees simultaneously. THAT, my friends, Is awesome! Especially since The Capt threw my rake away. (No, I will not go buy another rake. He must go and get me a new rake. It's his fault I don't have one.) {Shut up. I know I'll end up buying my own fucking rake. Let me have my fantasy bitches!} Wait, where was I?? OH! So I was using my FIL's cheap ass, weak as shit leaf blower and fell down a hill. And I don't mean like "Oops! Haha, I fell down" I mean like 'Movie Fall'. I trip in Slow motion.... windmilling my arms so this cheap ass leaf blower goes flying over my head as I smash into stumps, roots, rocks and shit. Of course my back pockets are full of things. Pokey Thing. A Utility Knife, 2 paint can openers, my cell phone.... you know. Shit. So, it's Sunday after I've just spent the entire weekend moving, painting, cleaning, I am physically and mentally wiped out and now I just threw myself down a fucking embankment and hurt myself. What do I do? Well, the only logical thing. I pull the leaf blower over, and sob hysterically. I was sore, tired, angry, and now I was bruised on top of everything so I just broke down. I eventually finished the leaves between sniffles. And when I stopped at the bank to deposit a check on my way to my new home I think I was still crying a little and the girl behind the glass might have been a little afraid of me, but thats ok. I lived, and the pretty bruises on my heiny did go away. Just wait for tomorrow. I'll tell you all about the attack of the really old beer can. It also is tremendous fun!

Mrs. Crazy?? Could you come with me please?

2007-10-26T19:35:00.000-05:00

So, did you know I hate my health insurance? Cuz I do. It rocks. In order for me to go to the chiropractor (oh! Sweet love!) I need a referral. Ok. NO problem right? WRONG! Let me lay out a time line for you! It'll be fun! Tra-la-la!

2:35 I get to the office! All good! My appointment is for 2:45! I signed more paperwork than the last time I bought a car! As an added bonus, I have no medical records! The last Doctors office I went to is only mandated to keep the patient record for 7 years and since it had been 10 since my last visit, they were GONE! YAY!

2:45 Waiting...... Notice a pregnant girl sitting across from me. She appears to be younger than me...... find out she has 4 KIDS! FOUR!!!!! And another Bun in the Oven. And she COUGHS. A. LOT. ON. ME. You are familiar with the bronchitis cough, yes? The deep lung horking cough?
Yeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhh...... Thats the one.....

3:00 Waiting......

3:15 Waiting.... Notice the Crazy woman to the right of me. She had brought to the Doctors office with her 1. Full, with books, Jansport PINK backpack. 2. Full Aldi's bag. I don't know what it had in it but it wasn't groceries. 3. Full size purse. Filled with shit. So full she couldn't do up the zippers.

And she was dressed crazy too! She was wearing Capri pants, with jeans over top. How do I know what she was wearing under the Jeans?? There were fresh holes torn in the jeans so the Capri's poked through. Coincidence?? I THINK NOT!! Not to mention I think she had friggin' PNEUMONIA and she did not cover her mouth. And she touched every magazine. Twice. I swear to Sweet Baby Jeebus I could feel her germs and phlegm sticking to my eyeballs at one point. It was awful.

3:30 STILL WAITING while I catch Leprosy...

FINALLY! I get called back. The nurse takes my info and I say to her

Me: I am just here to get a referral so I can go see a Chiropractor

Nursey: Well, you probably won't get that.... They'll want you to see an Orthopod first....

Me: Actually, I don't want to see an Orthopod and since I'm paying, I'll just take my referral.

Nurrsy: No, You don't see, the insurance companies do it this way...

Me: Either you people will give me a referral or I will go someplace else and get it. Someone *Will* write me a referral.....

Nursy: Ok then, I'll send in the Doctor.

Needless to say, I got my referral and I have my appointment set up for Tuesday.

Fuckers.

Overheard in Ardmore....

2007-10-16T18:49:00.000-05:00

**Picture this: a young woman pulls up in a beat up Cavalier with two older Gents. One Older gent is obviously handicapped. The other Old Gent seems lucid, and coherent. The Young Woman obviously frustrated and overwhelmed.**

Young Woman: Give me your jacket. (to Old gent #1)

Old Gent #1: Why? Why can't I have my jacket?

Old Gent #2: *shuffle shuffle* (puts hands in pockets)

Young Woman: You don't Need It.

Old Gent #1: Why don't I Need It?? It's my jacket.
(at this point they are pulling on the jacket, first he pulls, then she pulls, repeat.)

Young Woman: You're angry.

Old gent #2: *Shuffle Shuffle* (Takes hands out of pockets, looks at arguers uncomfortably)

Old Gent #1: Yes I am. I want my jacket.

Young Woman: STOP BEING ANGRY. ANGRY MEANS NURSING HOME. *throws jacket at him.*

Me: Ummmm... *jaw slack staring at them because OMG?? Did she just threaten him with a nursing home over a jacket??*

Young Woman: *head snaps around to see if anyone saw her threaten Old Gent #1. She spies me staring and stomps off into Applebee's with both old Gents shuffling along behind.*

Just so you know, Old Gent #1 got to keep his jacket.

Do you Merge? Or, Road Rage: 101

2007-10-03T19:41:00.000-05:00

Answer me a few leeeeetol questions about Proper Driving Etiquette would you Por Favor? Si? Si. When there is a sign stating

LEFT LANE CLOSED
PLEASE MERGE RIGHT

Do you do so? And at your earliest convenience? Or are you a racer? Must you be at the front of the line fucking up traffic for the rest of us? Yes, yes. There is a story here. Allow me to illiterate.....

I've just merged onto RT 309 (kindly, and with proper etiquette I might add) and there is a large orange sign that states

LEFT LANE CLOSED
PLEASE MERGE RIGHT

I do so in a timely manner. With Turn Signals. Yes, the right lane is a wee bit slower, but if everyone moves over in a timely manner we will fly through the miles and miles of one-lane-iness. Unfortunately that is spoiled by the inhuman mutherfuckers who MUST. BE. FIRST! Because Lord knows they are Important! VIP's!

Anyway..... I rant! So this woman in a Big Ass SUV starts merging into my car. OH HELLZ NAW BITCH!

Me: WHAT THE FUCK!!!

SUV Lady: WHY YOU BEIN' SO RUDE??
(she was white and I don't know how to type a Brooklyn accent)

Me: YOU SHOULD HAVE MERGED BACK WHEN THE SIGN TOLD YOU TO. *stupid bitch isn't getting in now. Fuck all that noise*

SUV Lady: BECAUSE EVERY ONE IS BEING A RUDE BITCH LIKE YOU AND WOULDN'T LET ME IN!

*I would like to point out she was NOT using her turn signal.

Me: I'M A RUDE BITCH? YOU'RE NOT USING YOUR TURN SIGNAL!!!!!!!!!

So, no. I did not let her in. I made that bitch brake. I feel I am in the right (if slightly road ragey and vindictive. I could have let her in.) One of the Rules of the Road I learned was when you wanted to move your vehicle into another lane you use your turn signal to indicate you would be doing so, or use your signal to ASK to move into the lane.

Let me give you a little analogy. It's like in High School when the bigger kids would cut the lunch line. You either push your way in or you ask your friend to cut. If you ask me I will let you cut, but if you try and shove your way in I will make you hit my car. So you tell me. Am I completely wrong? I know I react poorly, but the concept, it's right isn't it? You should ASK to cut the line.....

P.S. I totally know I have a problem about the turn signals but they are there for a reason! USE THEM.

None but a coward dares to boast that he has never known fear.

2007-09-25T16:28:00.000-05:00

Ferdinand Foch- French General 1851-1929

I've admitted before I am a country girl. I love living close to the city and everything that goes with it. But I am not always comfortable with it. I don't always know how to react or even act. I spend a large amount of my working time in areas of Philly that a majority of the population is Black. Or is the Proper Term African American? I don't know. I am not racist, nor am I afraid of Black people. I am however afraid of the City People. White, Black, Hispanic whatever they may be, in Philly they might shoot you. For looking at them. For being at the wrong place at the wrong time. On accident. For being white. We have crested the 300 mark on murders this year already.

And today I wanted to go to the park for lunch.

The Awbury Arboretum is on the corner of Chew Ave and Washington Ln. It's not the nicest neighborhood, but so what! It's Daytime! In a PARK! Nothing can happen right? Wrong. I got a reality check today and it scared me. I walked a small circuit of the park taking pics of flowers and general crap and decided to sit next to a mud hole they called a pond and see if I could get some good pics of the Bullfrogs. As I was waiting for the frogs to acclimate to my presence and come back 3 Black men came up the short stairway to the park. (Hereafter known as The Young One, The Old One and The Homeless one.) Which, really? No Big Deal. Except then The Young One turned around and sat down blocking the steps out of the park. And the Old One and the Homeless one stumbled over to the edge of the pond and tried to set their 40's down without breaking them.

Still! None of this is a big deal right? Right. Except I had a bad feeling. At which point I have to ask myself, Am I just being prudent? Would I react the same way if it was 3 White guys? What if they weren't obviously drunk? Would that make me more comfortable or less? They aren't talking to me, they aren't even looking at me, except I know this to be a 'Bad Area".

The Old One wanders over behind a tree to relieve himself (polite at least), and I pack up my camera. The Homeless One seems to be staring at me, but that could just be me thinking that, or him just being drunk. The Old one still hadn't come out from behind the tree and it had been about 10 minutes. I decided he might be doing drugs and I don't care, I'm leaving the park. Now. I start walking around the little pond and this guy is taking a nod, dick still in hand, while leaning against the tree. I try not to look at him, or the Homeless one as I pass by. My senses are hyper alert and I excuse myself down the stairs without incident. The Young One goes back on up the steps and completes his deal, (Whatever it was, I saw him after I got back in my car and I was pulling away, he had a black bag of something. Could have been a 40, could have been drugs, could have been a gun. OR, it could have been nothing. A book. A new shirt. I don't know.)

I don't like these feelings that today has left me with. I am afraid. I am disgusted with myself for being afraid of people. Afraid of Black People. Not all Black people Hate Whitey, or want to shoot people, or do drugs. Some of them are just trying to make it through the day. Just like me. And just like some of you. I don't want to think it makes me racist to be afraid, and yet I am afraid being afraid makes me racist. Or bigoted. Or a bad person.

When it comes down to the bare bones I am not a city girl. I think it's different if you are born in a city. There is something bred into you very DNA that makes you adept at knowing whats trouble, and whats ok, and when to leave the park. It's not going to keep me from doing my job and I will not be controlled by my fear. But I will not go back to that park. And I will be afraid when I drive through that area. If I am listening to rap, I will turn it down so they can't hear and think me a poser. Or I may even change the station all together.

Fear leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Did someone say Cake?

2007-09-22T11:51:00.000-05:00

Well, inspired by RSM's post yesterday about Butter I decided to give you a Desert recipe that is Butter-licious! It's sort of like a cobbler, but not really, super easy and so good and rich... It's kind of like Cake, and kind of like Pie. Cie? Pake? I don't know what to call it! Except TASTY!

*DROOL!*

So here it is.

The Cast of Characters.

1 can of Crushed Pineapple. Drained.
1 can of Cherry Pie Filling.
1 Yellow Cake mix
1 Stick Butter

Thats it. No other ingredients required.

Now, Into a 9 inch cake pan (whatever shape you like) dump the drained Pineapple.

(Yes, I know that is a pie dish. I used that for Your Benefit. Shuddup.)

Next, dump the cherry pie filling on top of the pineapple. Stir together.

Pour the dry cake mix on top of the Cherries and Pineapple.

Dot with Butter. YES. Use the whole stick.

Bake at 350 until golden brown. My apologies. I did not time mine, 20 minutes? A half hour? Ish... Take out of oven. Cool until it will not sear your mouth.

Scoop out a hefty serving. (You will come back for more. Maybe you should make 2.) Devour.

The one in which I panic......

2007-09-11T21:15:00.000-05:00

So, it looks as if The Capt will be fighting for THIS GROUP Oct. 20th in Joisey. With elbows to the head. To. The. Head.

HEAD.

ELBOWS.

In his precious little face. It hurts me thinking about it! Punches suck, but elbows are like depositing you eyeballs directly into a frying pan and just swirling them around with a fork whilst they are still attached to you head. Fun and stuff.

More on this later............

This is Almost IT.

2007-09-08T17:43:00.000-05:00

I'm not even kidding. I almost have The Perfect Burger. ALMOST. It's killing me. I have the burger part down.

80 - 20 Hamburger
Finely Chopped Onion
Garlic Powder
Old Bay Seasoning
Season Salt
Cheese
and Pineapple.

No. I am not kidding. I make burgers with pineapple in the middle. And they are delicious. You make one patty nice and thin and stick a pineapple ring, or pineapple bits with sharp cheese in the middle then throw another patty on top. It is Teh Delicious-ness. Trust me. Make them. But don't use regular hamburger buns, they don't have the power to withstand the juicy-goodness that is a pineapple burger. Use a hard roll. A Portuguese Roll, or Toasted French bread. Something dense.

Then I have a wonderful condiment. It is also the delicious-ness. But not quite right for the burger. It's almost it, but not quite.

1/2 of a 16 oz package of Bacon. Whatever kind you like.
Fry that shit up. Save the grease.
-DO NOT BURN YOURSELF. USE A LONG HANDLED FORK DUMMY.
-Shaddup Asshole. I burned myself.
1 puff bag of pre-made Coleslaw. (Yes, I cheat.)
1 1/2 onion. I used a Mouli to slice mine. Make it thin and long cut like coleslaw.
And I stoled the dressing from this recipe. OOOOO! TO DIE FOR.

But just this part:
In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, vinegar, and sugar. Season with salt and pepper. Stir the egg mixture into the skillet with the warm bacon grease. Mix in the diced bacon and flour, and whisk for about 1 minute, until thickened to the consistency of salad dressing.

Then, while it was hot, I poured it on the Coleslaw mixture I made and tossed it. As Homer would say

"GAHHHHHHHHHHH DROOL*

I made the dressing first and mixed it and the coleslaw stuff all up. I let it marinate in the fridge for a couple hours.

When I was ready for dinner I made up my burgers and cooked them on my George Foreman Grill. If you are cooking them on an actual grill you need to know, set the heat low to medium. You only get one flip with a pineapple burger before they start to break apart. I assembled my burger and it was really good. I really enjoyed the vinnegrett flavor against the slightly sweet, slightly greasey flavor of the burger. Unfortunately the burger flavor manages to over take the coleslaw flavor by the end of the burger. In my opinion. You make them and tell me if I'm crazy. Please? I was also thinking a little celery seed in the coleslaw stuff, or maybe sunflower seeds, but that's not what it's missing.

You make 'em.

Tell me what you think.

Please?

Hi, I'm a Harvard Grad and Nicole is from Florida

2007-08-19T14:18:00.000-05:00

Just a few highlights from The Pat Benatar Concert I went to with RSM . Oddly enough, none of them happened at the concert itself. Huh, Weird. This Little guy we met at The Blue Comet in Glenside. We had a lovely talk with him at the Comet though. I told him about RSM's blog and how famous she is and he should feel SO LUCKY to actually be in her presence (cuz I am nice like that). She introduced herself as Nicole and then told him I am a Harvard Graduate. Payback? Maybe... He then was properly amazed and said things like "You two are so humble" and "No wonder she is just sitting back not saying much". Then it was Story Time. He had been out all night with a buddy celebrating a 21st birthday. And did we know is was a foster kid? And his mom was a totally druggie? And his dad TOO. WOW. Fascinating stuff. It was at this point we decided to RUN. Run for our lives.

So then we went back to the Keswick for a few more Drinky-poo's. As we we're being carded at the door and RSM was yelling at the bouncer that 'You are so MEAN! Just let us IN ALREADY!" we met this diamond in the rough! And she LOVED RSM. She basically attacked her at the door. It was awesome.

The best description I have heard so far is 'Elaine from Seinfeld's Daughter'. Let me just tell ya, she inherited all the mad dancing skills from her mom. She was freaky Jealouscakes about RSM being on stage so decided to throw herself on stage and be 'The Bands' Dancer! She was rockin the house and all that.

This however may have been the highlight of the evening. The SECOND Concert of the night. There was a Little Clash, Some Bowie, Journey (of course!) a little Maroon 5. I was really busy laughing, singing, taking pictures and drinking. And you'll NEVER GUESS who showed up? No go ahead. Try. You'll never guess! Yep! You guessed it! Our little friend Scott! After RSM got down from the stage Scott decided he'd like to sing too! The guys in The Band didn't like it very much. it's one thing to have a Hot Chick up on stage (after being invited of course) and an entirely different thing to have some snaggle toothed crazy person decide he wants to sing and run up and 'Share' the mic with you. I think I might have heard a "Oh HELLS NAW!" He was pulled off the stage and escorted out while being told 'No one goes on stage', except for Hot Chicks in Little skirts I guess..... I guess the last interesting bit that happened was on our way to the Potty. RSM had quite the fan club by the end of the night ya know. So we're just minding our own bid-ness and this guy stops us. It was very 'How You Doin'?' We went through all the regular conversation topics...

Guido: How You Doin' ladies? What's your name?

RSM: Nicole.

Me: (Real name inserted here) (Cuz I'm hard core like that)

Guido: So... Where you from?

RSM: Florida.

Me: Here. (while giving crazy look at RSM)

Guido: Well, next Friday I'm having a party at my house if yous would like to come.... Hey you wanna take a picture of me too?

nah, get a better one....

RSM: Oh, I'll be gone by then..

Me: Can we go to the bathroom now?

We ended the night looking at about 47 people's tattooe's and then This Travesty. It was eventful and entertaining. And kinda scary. Lets do it again ok?

Yeah............. we're totally going out again.

This is the end......

2007-08-14T07:11:00.000-05:00

Well kids, this mornings shower might have been my last hot one. Or shower period..... You see the Hot Water Tank has been leaking. I knew this. My FIL didn't believe me. Pretty common. He came over and looked at it and announced

"HA! I have discovered the dysfunction! The Hot Water Tank is leaking!"

in his most triumphant voice. I figured because it was playing with explosives (Natural Gas) I wouldn't have to worry about it. He'd hire someone who knows what they are doing. Right? RIGHT??!??!

WRONG.

He called The Capt. Sunday and told him to meet him at the Home Depot to pick up the New Hot Water Tank. No big deal. They go and pick this up, drag it up one set of stairs and down another and as it comes back to upright The FIL says

"So I'll be over Tuesday morning to put this in. That way I have all day if something goes wrong."

Oh Hell's nah....

So pray for me Children.

I may not have Hot Water when I get home.

I may not have Water when I get home...

And if he fucks up with the natural Gas....

I may not have a home....

Feeeeeeeeeeeeed me SEYMORE!!!!!!!!

2007-07-17T19:21:00.000-05:00

I might be a little snipish with this post.

Or maybe a little snipish all together.

I dunno.

See, here's the problem. I quit smoking. I KNOW RIGHT?!??!?!?!??!!!

I got sick at the beginning of the month and it hurt to smoke. So I didn't. It wasn't hard, I was asleep for the first 3 days or so. That makes it really easy. FOR THOSE DAYS. Lemme just break it down for you a little.

July 1st: (Sunday) Wake up sick. So sick I can speak because it huuuuuurts.

July 2nd: Go to work. Run fever. Feel dizzy. Achy and headachey. Push through day, get done at 2:30, go home and sleep.

July 3rd: Go to work. Turn in paperwork and beg off for the day. Head hurts from no NICOTINE! NEED MORE SLEEP. Sleep all day.

July 4th: Go to a 4th party. Leave early because I am still sick. Even bigger headache. Really really really want to smoke by the end of the day.....

July 5th: Back to work. Coughing. Sniffling. Sneezing. The desire to smoke doesn't hit till the end of the day.

July 6th: Get REAL BITCHY BECAUSE NO NICOTINE!!!! MUTHERFUCKER WHY DO YOU SPEAK TO ME?? YOU DARE ASK ME WHY THERE IS SMOKE COMING OUT MY EARS AND FIRE SHOOTING FROM MY NOSTRILS?? I SHALL KILL YOU FOR SUCH SILLY QUESTIONS!! NO TALKY TO ME!!!!! EVAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

July 10th - July 17th: On and off I have been snipish, bitchy, and generally not a very nice person.

Most of the time I am ok with the desire to smoke. Towards the end of the day it gets bad but I have found the remedy.

FEED MAH FAT ASS!!

I can not stop eating. Foooooooooooooooood! Especially anything that is not good for me.

Is it deep fried, fat laden, something I shouldn't eat?

GIVE ME! PUT IN MAH MOUTH!!

I have gained 3 pounds in 17 days. This is not ok with me. I need to find a NEW! BETTER! HOBBY! Because, eating?? Is just not going to cut it for me.

Pray for me....... and if you see me light one up? Punch me in the mouth.

Ayyyyyyyy YO LAAA-DEEE!

2007-06-28T16:22:00.000-05:00

Yet another scorcher in the big city today. I'm pretty sure after the last three days of un-fucking-believable heat and humidity there is no more water left in my body. My Gawd! Could someone turn the heat down already?? So anyway, I was on Germantown Ave today in the Not So Nice part of town. It was fun. OH! TONS of fun. I was on Rector Street waiting for my parking space to open up in front of the building because HOLY FUCK NOT. LEAVING. CAR. OUT. OF. SIGHT. People might steal Mah Shit. And DOOOOODE! I carry a LOT of shit! So I'm waiting, and reading a book. What? I got all day to fuck off people! And all the sudden....

Lil'Black boy: AAAYYYYYY YO!! AAAAAAAYYYYYYEEEEEE YOOOO!!! LAAAA-DEE! LAAAA-DEE!!

Me: (scramble to turn down radio) What's that o'young and black??

Lil'Black boy: (pulls up pants, grabs crotch, adjust) You wanna dye my hair that color??

Me: HAHAHA (Casually roll up window and avert eyes.)

It was the predecessor of Things To Come.

So around noon I used my Nuvi to find the Micky-D's on Broad St. I was just chillin' in the parking lot reading my book and havin' a smoke. I got to see a few interesting things and have a LOVELY conversation. While I was there a slightly strung out looking white woman about 35yr but looking much older(read: dishevaled hair, ill fitting clothes, wild look in her eye) pulled up in a crappy Cavalier, then a young black guy pulled up in a beat ass Bonneville. She got out of her car, into his, back out of his car, into her shit box and drove away. Hmmm. Musta been a nice lil'drug deal. Sweet. I don't mind a little pot but this woman looked B.A.D. Crack or meth is my guess. I just shrugged it off, whatevs. Not my life. So I'm still reading my book, sweating and trying to stay out of the sun and another Bonneville pulls up with three young black gents in it. Two of whom exit the vehicle and go talk to people in another car. Muslims I think, the girl was wearing the full dress and face cover. I was just sitting there biting a fingernail and young black driver rolls down the rear passenger window....

YBD: Ayyyyy ba-beeee! Whas wrong? You lost? You go to schoooo down here?

Me: Oh, nothings wrong.

YBD: So.... you go to schoo down here?

Me: No.

YBD: Whats yo name baby?

Me: You wont be able to say it.

YBD: Naaaahhhh, its aiiight. I got a slick toungue.

Me: Oh..... uhhh... (insert name here)

YBD: AH, aint nuthin hard about that! So can I take you out sometime baby?

Me: Oh, honi I'm married.

YBD: Thas aiight, I got a mini van. He can come too.....

Me: ........................ (throw car in reverse, get THE FUCK OUT OF THERE)

Yeah, I think my boss gave me all the area's he's afraid to go in....

Good Lord this Makes me cry!

2007-06-14T20:22:00.001-05:00

Go watch this video! It reminds me of the Ugly Duckling. I nearly cried!

http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=646496&cache=1

Commence the Chaos.

2007-06-14T17:12:00.000-05:00

So, I have been recovering, *albeit slowly*, from this past weekend. It was great fun. We arrived Thursday afternoon after a SIX HOUR DRIVE *fucking Pennsylvania and it's mother fuckin' construction*. As soon as we stepped in the door dad cracked us both a brew and we sat down to chill for a bit. It was nice being home and just RELAXING before all the wedding Brew-ha-ha. After a hour or two I rolled on over to the G-parents house and chilled with Ye Old Man, and the Beautiful Young Woman he married, Gram. My fathers brother, 'Dunk' and his Beauteous Wife 'Le Nursey' were there and chilled with us too (sorry lady, I got no good shots of you). We haven't seen them for OOooooo, I guess 2 years now? Because we're too friggin "busy" (read: lazy) to drive to Ye Old 'Ginia to visit. Friday everyone started rollin' in for the big Sha-bang. Sister 1 and hubs-to-be were first. The looked happy (and a wee bit sweaty and tired, shhhh I never said that) and brought a Ass-Ton of boxes, dry cleaner bags and clutter with them. Then Sister 2 showed bearing 1 boy-toy and a freshly birthed babe of 2 weeks.
(which Da Momma swiftly and with great grace swooped away with). And now I say unto the Heavens

"COMMENCE THE CHAOS!"

Friday night The Capt.,I, Dunk and Le Nursey went for a small tour of the local nightlife. A really small pub crawl. We started off at Andersons, had a few beers and looked at the scary folk with 'Summer Teeth' and the Babies that I baby-sat elleventy million years ago,and saying things like 'OH HELL NO THEY CAN NOT BE OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK!??!?!!!' Next we moseid on 'Down Below', (That's the fightin' bar). When we walked in we saw this guy signing a song of which I only caught the last couple of lines. It was a nice little didy and it goes a lil'sumthin like theeeeeaaaaaaasssss!

HIT IT!
"There ain't nuthin worse than a white girl with a nigger..... explative explative racist comment Oh NO SIR There ain't nuthin wooooooorse....... than a white girl with a nigger......"

Um, yeah. It's a small town. Just make up your own excuse for these schmucks. I got nuthin'.

Just so you can properly understand My Town here's a few more example of the fine, law abiding, clean cut, hygenic peeps there. Yeah, You're So Very Welcome! (You should understand the TOOTH brush might have been invented there. That's why it's not used in the proper plural form. We Got Us'ins a TOOTH! YYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE FUCKIN HAWWWWW BITCHES!!)

For now, this is all. I will have a follow up tale of One True Love, and the Loverly Wedding that ensued. And just possibly some more hilarity. Maybe. If I am good, and Da Momma says I can....

If a tree falls in the woods, and there's no one around to hear it does it make a sound?

2007-05-31T18:33:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I might have fucked up. A little. Maybe. I dunno. You tell me. I FINALLY went back 'On The Road' today and I was visiting a customer, henceforth known as BOB'S, busily chatting away. We were having a wonderful conversation, it was the end of the day and you could see those little dream bubbles over everyones heads filled with thoughts of cold beers and steak sammiches. They sent a Jeep over to another of my customers, henceforth known as TIM'S, for an alignment, and they apparently didn't have a real relationship with this TIM'S yet. They called and asked when it would be done and one of the lackies said "UUUhhh ahhh dunno" and that was it. The owner of BOB'S obviously didn't know who to talk to. We walk out into the shop busily discussion our plans to mow, or drink tonight and the owner of BOB'S says something to the effect he'd really like to know when that Jeep would be done so he could go home. So I, the fixer of all things, piped right up and said "No problem! I know the guys!! I'll call!! Lets go to the phone!" To be fair, I thought I was HELPING, I am a HELPER, I like to HELP. I can fix all things! And whatnot. Well, the office manager was standing there while I was talking (YES I GOT THE ANSWERS!) and as soon as I hung up she FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT ON ME! Telling me it was fucked up and not professional and what the fuck was I doing?? I started stuttering and telling her we talked about it, The Owner KNEW I was doing it (at which point she said she wasn't mad at me but at him but continued to yell at me) and I apologized for overstepping my bounds and I didn't mean it and OH MY GOD LADY! HELPING!!! And then I cried because maybe I can't do this job and it's too hard and I don't like being yelled at FOR HELPING. So you tell me. Was I wrong? Did I fuck it all up?? Should I just go live in a van down by the river because I will NEVER BE GOOD AT ANYTHING! Am I the ANTI-HELPER?

So I'm a little busy OK?!??!

2007-05-29T20:02:00.000-05:00

So I got back from The Capt. doing this.

And This......

And finally THIS.....

So yeah, I've been busy helping him nurse this....

And then my sister made this.........

So I was busy being an Auntie.

Also! The shopping! OH! SWEET BLUEBERRY FLAVORED JEEBUS! Shoes for the *other* sisters wedding (not to mention support garments! Shuddup, I'm old. Fuck off. Assholes.) And Da Momma's Birthday. And my Anniversary. And my friends wedding reception gift (Who gets married by Elvis?? In Vegas??)

And now my crotchety old grandpa decided it's be a great time to have a heart attack. Thanks grandpa. I guess we still like you but OHHHH!! The SMACK you're gonna get when I get home!! I don't know who told you THAT SHIT was OK, but they've got a good smack coming too. DON'T MAKE ME TAKE MY BELT OFF!!!

So, it's been a REALLY LONG couple of weeks. Hopefully I will have something better soon...

I am so tired............

Ever notice I'm not good with planning?

2007-05-18T10:41:00.000-05:00

I am a list maker extraordinaire, but rarely do I finish what I put on the lists. If you rifled through my purse you'd find reams of paper with little scribbles on them of things I need to do, want to do and should do. Usually I get what I need to do done, but not always. Most of the time they go to that great Pursey Grave in the bottom never to be seen or heard again without revision or a second glance. Then I wander around wondering "What I need to do that was so important??" Which of course doesn't hit me until I'm floating in that happy land between wakefulness and sleep and I think "I need to remember that for tomorrow", which I never do. I'm a little scattered. I would rather be clicking happily along on

THIS IS WHAT I'M LEFT WITH. WHY IS AUTO SAVE SO SPECIAL IF I CAN'T GO BACK TO PREVIOUS SAVE POINTS AFTER IT EATS MY WHOLE POST. HATE.

Key points that were here before Blogger decided to SUCK.

Groped by a teensy tiny Eye-talian guy under the guise of 'Alterations' for my Bridesmaids dress.
He also told me I needed bigger boobs. He rocks.
Bought more stuff from ebay to make my skin porcelain smooth. Thanks Kait for rocking the Mary Kay.
I can no longer make hyerlinks. Every time I do it eats my post.

THE END.

PS.

And WHERE did my comments thingie go??

Hi. Yes. I'm still alive.

2007-05-14T11:25:00.000-05:00

And starting to get really NERVOUS. This weekend! Saturday as a matter of fact, my Husband, The Capt. will be fighting his FIRST! EVER! PRO! FIGHT! In a real stadium! With real people who watch UFC watching him! And Me and our friends! I'm extremely proud of him. And also feel like I might vomit a little. He is going up a weight class. He'll be fighting 140lbs. Against a guy who's done this before. He's going to get hit in the face. He is going to bleed. I AM SO NERVOUS! If I am this nervous I can't even imagine how he's feeling. I sent an email to the fight people and asked if they are allowing picture takin'. Need to know! Because how else will you all (all three of you) see anything if I can't take pics! Ok, anyway, no more exclamation points. If you pray, cast spells, chant to a whosey-whatsit, or just hope really hard please do so around 8pm Saturday may 19 for The Capt. He needs to win this thing.

Ahhhhhhh.... Um.... Yeah, 'n stuff

2007-05-03T07:13:00.000-05:00

Silly Cunt: I Only want Unified Brand Windshield washer concentrate in the 55 gallon drum. The kind we had before was too strong.

Me: Uhhh......... ummmm......what do you mean too strong?

Silly Cunt: Oh! It was just awful! It left a white film all over the windshields. Just Awful.

Me: Why? Um, well wait a minute.... I................ Uh................

And what I wanted to say:

HOLY SWEET BLUEBERRY FLAVORED JEEEESUS LADY!!! IT'S CONCENTRATE!!!!!!!!! PUT MORE WATER IN IT! IT WILL SAVE YOU MONEY STUPID! WHEN YOU BUY ORANGE JUICE CONCENTRATE DO YOU DRINK IT RIGHT OUT OF THE LITTLE CARDBOARD CYLINDER??? GAHMUTHERFUCKSTUPID DUR DUR DUR BRAIN OVERLOAD

*where's that hot bag o'nickles? Bitch needs some sense beat into her and I have a feeling I'd better pack a lunch*

Now You Just Wait One Fucking Minute....

2007-04-25T11:10:00.000-05:00

***IMPORTANT NOTICE***

***DANGER!! DANGER WILL ROBINSON***

Father types, Mother types and Grandparent types! Be forewarned! A S-E-X entry to follow!! And possibly a spider refrence!

***END NOTICE***

The Capt. came home early from training last night and I was all WOOT! Teh Sex tonight Beee-bee!! As we were relaxing and discussing the horribleness that is work I casually asked him

Me: Hey! You think maybe you'd like to have the sex with me tonight or are ya too sore?

The Capt: Well.... Jeez...... when you put it that way it doesn't sound too enticing. Like you're not really into it..... (they don't make a button that looks whiney instead of bold or italics)

Me: Oh *embarrassment* Well......... I was just asking because you have been training so hard and I'll need to shower and shave and stuff.......

(at this point I feel like the WORST WIFE EVER)

The Capt: Well, it didn't used to be like this. It was more spontaneous...... not scheduled.....

Me: Well, would it help if I put it in my mouth?

The Capt: Yeah..... (the whiney button again)

*and he prepares for bed*

I grab a towel and head off to the shower.

The Capt: Oh, and I just took a melatonin pill sooo....

Me: I'd better hurry huh?

Now, as I was showering to get all nice and smell good for Mah Man it occurred to me the way he initiates The S-E-X isn't exactly like the way it was in the beginning either. Why should I feel bad? He should feel just as bad, the little manipulator! I usually get one of 3 initiators.

1. a text message asking for me to
a. Take the 'Snake' out when he gets home
b. Put it in my mouth or he will smack me in the face with it
c. Touch it or he will wait until I am asleep and then make me touch it.

2. Or he will hint at it all night when he gets home Example: Hey, what are ya doing over there? You're not using your hands are ya.......

3. Or he waits until I am asleep and tries to wake me up for it. Under no circumstances am I to be woken ever. I don't preform well when woken.

So the next time he complains about me being to scheduled I will just remind him he isn't exactly Sweeping Me Off My Feet when he wiggles it in my face.

And that I SAVED him from the Spider that tried to Suck His Very Life Blood while I was trying to wake him up enough to have sex with me.

I am SO good.

2007-04-20T14:35:00.000-05:00

Lesbian Mechanic: Hi laundry Broad, what's up? I need an oil filter for a '07 H3.

Me: Ok, oh, yeah I got it.

LM: What kind of synthetic oil do you have?

Me: Um.... lets see, I've got 5w30...

LM: I don't even know how many quarts I need...

Me: Man I hate those cars, too flashy, and show-y off-y....

LM: Hey now! That's my Girlfriends car....

Me: Fuck, you're going to beat me up now aren't you?

I'm going to get beat up and possibly cut by my Puerto Rican Lesbian Mechanic Friend.

Open mouth.... insert foot.

INVASION! Rally the troops men!

2007-04-17T17:22:00.000-05:00

Alright men! Due to the fierce Nor'Easter it has driven our Arch Enemy THE ANT into our territory, Glensidelania. We must defend the Home Territory. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT???

ERADICATE THE ENEMY MA'AM!

Thanks right men. First we need to form our strategy:
We track the bastards back to their home base.

Private Speck: Commander, Ma'am! The have originated on the exterior wall under the base board radiator.

Good Work Private. Now, Where are they going? Whats their plan of attack???

Private Catsy: Commander! They seem to be headed toward the Master Quarters to retrieve Dog Food Rations (and crumbs!) Private Speck has hidden under the bed.

Excellent work Private Catsy. Private Speck, wee SHALL discuss this later.

WEWEASE THE SEQWET WEPOOOOOONNNNNN!!! (Thank you An American Tale)

Privates Speck and Catsy: Commander. What's the secrete weapon.

The most dreaded weapon in all of Glensidelania....... The EUREKA!

Private Speck and Catsy: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! It does irreparable damage to the troops Commander! We cannot tolerate it! It drives the troops to fits of Barking! And Hiding under various pieces of Furniture! Please Commander! Say there's another way!

I'm afraid not troops. We must use the EUREKA to eradicate the enemies behind the lines and remove the Precious! Rations! currently stored under the bed in the Masters Quarters. Also, as a second line of defense we shall also be using Raid Brand Ant Napalm. It won't be enough to use the secret weapon men, we're going to have to eradicate them behind the lines. We must crush the invasion and return Glensidelania to her former peaceful self.

OK TROOPS! YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS!!

PRIVATE SPECK! START BARKING AT THE RELEASE OF THE SECRETE WEAPON!!

PRIVATE CATSY! YOU'RE ORDERS ARE TWO FOLD! YOU ARE TO BAT PLAYFULLY AT THE ENEMY BUT AS SOON AS THE SECRETE WEAPON IS RELEASED YOU ARE TO RUN! AND HIDE! UNDER ANY AVAILABLE PIECE OF FURNITURE! BE FOREWARNED! THERE MAY NEED TO BE THE USE OF EXTREME AND DEADLY HISSING AND POSSIBLY EVEN SPITTING!!

NOW GET TO IT MEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ack..... my life.... she suckth.

2007-04-12T17:01:00.000-05:00

Ok, So I'm back at work, doing the old crappy job still. We had a Elvis impersonator come in today and apply for my job. Uhuuh huh. Who knows, he seemed more normal than Mr. LoudTalker. Which, ah, a Elvis Impersonator more normal than him? Soooo sad for him. Freak.

And the Imus thing? WHEN WILL THIS BE DONE??? Sweet baby Jeebus I am so tired of hearing about this 'Nappy headed ho' bull shit. So he said something racially charged. Big Fucking Deal! Isn't that his job? CHRIST SAKES PEOPLE! He's allowed to have his opinion. Free speech and all. I don't like what he said. I wouldn't have said it. And they are bringing in Rappers. Oooo! The controversy! But Rappers say the super secret 'N-word'. Its all crap. They can say it because they are black, or grew up (eminem) in that life style. The don't mean it like White people do. BLAH BLAH BLAH. White racism is different than black racism. I call Bull Shit. Until we educate ALL PEOPLE this kind of crap will go on. The shootings in Philly have already exceeded 100 this year. It Sucks. It sucks the big one that I can't go down the city without wondering if I'll get shot. It sucks that 5 minutes form my Home there are shootings EVERYDAY. (Ah, crap, I'm on a rant aren't I)

Anyway, Please people. lets stop all this silly bullshit and get back to the important things in life already. Like Money. And Celebrity Gossip. Please Paris, do something stupid so Calgon can take me away as I read those trash mags.......

2007-04-04T17:15:00.000-05:00

So I have this GREAT! NEW! JOB! and already I am completely annoyed. Not only do I have no time to blog, because I spend all night catching up on the reading I missed all day, but I have no good stories yet. I met the Russian mafia today on Bustleton, but on one cares (cuz really, not that interesting). And also! the fucktards I work with have decided my first week out by myself should be the week they all have court dates for child support and other drug related issues, or they are Sick, whaaaaa whaaaa bitches. So I have spent more time covering in the store than doing my GREAT! NEW! JOB! Thank god they are still paying me for it.

I swear! I Pinky Swear this will get more interesting. In the mean time, go here and read these things. They are fun. (And I guess creating a hyperlink is out of the question for me today. Cut and paste bitches.)

http://truewifeconfessions.blogspot.com/index.html

http://www.overheardintheoffice.com/

Plus, I may have ordered NEW! COLORS! for my hair. Stay tuned!

Good Morning! Good Mornig! It's time to start your Day!

2007-03-29T06:06:00.000-05:00

What happens first thing in the morning when The husband isn't getting enough sleep.

The Capt: honi...... honi....

Me: Hmmm... what?

The Capt: It's twenty after 6....

Me: yeah....

The Capt: The alarm didn't go off...

Me: Thats because it's set for 6:30...

The Capt: Aaaarrrrrrrgggggggg *tear sob hate* (while thrashing your legs about tantrum style)

So it's all good right?

2007-03-26T19:26:00.000-05:00

I started my New! Better! Job! today and I am exhausted! It wasn't any harder than what I am used to, just different. And most of the time I had no idea where I was! Lincoln drive? Haines ave? Ogontz Ave? They all seemed to blur into one big city street for me. And some of the area's I was in were, lets just say, less than desirable. I might get jacked up an' shizit yo. Most all of the customers I met were great! AND! Had really lovely things to say about me to my boss. I like that part, it gives me a nice warm fuzzy feeling. We didn't have much time to actually stand and talk with the customers I would have liked to talk to, but it some places it was like we couldn't get out of there fast enough. There's one guy who really dislikes me. I think, maybe, he caught me making fun of the way he speaks. To be honest, it is funny. It's his cadence. He draws things out. Example:

Hi honey it's Daaaaaaave...

Hey Teeeeeeeee

It's very weird considering he grew up in Philly.

At one shop in the inner ghetto (where we had to be buzzed in because, hello, some one might kill them) I also met a guy who's eye leak. All the time. For no discernible reason. He must be REALLY sad. And one of the owners of the shop has ears so big he might just fly away like Sally Fields in the Flying Nun if a stiff wind came along. I am not even kidding, just wait, I'll get pics. I saw lesbians working on cars, a itty bitty skinny guy with a gun stuffed into his waist band, homeless people wandering aimlessly, and several Korean shops where it was more difficult to understand them in person than on the phone! It was a fun day. We got done around 4:30, and I had/have a raging headache. we'll see how this goes, and hopefully, now that I'll be driving around the city I'll get some really cool pics, and I know I'll have some awesome stories. Just hang in there with me for a bit, my life can only be boring for so long....

OH!! MY!!! GAWD!!!

2007-03-22T10:49:00.000-05:00

So The Capt. just signed for his First! Ever! Pro! Fight!

SAY YAY!!

As more details become available I will post them here, because I know how much everyone cares!

HI HA HA HA, HOW ARE YOU TODAY???

2007-03-15T18:51:00.000-05:00

So, since I've been promoted we've had to hire someone to take over my job. Today was his first day. Lets take a little trip down today's memory lane shall we? Yes, lets!

I got to work, walked out to the warehouse and the warehouse manager informs me Mr. Loudtalker (the new guy) is 'cataloging' the part numbers because they aren't what he's used to. Good initiative right? Riiiiggghhhhttttt.

I sit down at my desk, start turning stuff on, making coffee and here comes Mr. Loudtalker.

Mr. LT: HI!!! HI!! YOU REMEMBER ME RIGHT? MR. LT? (shakes my hand again, and let me say this, clammy slimy fuckin hands man) HA HA HA, I WAS JUST IN THE WAREHOUSE.

Me: Yep. That's you desk, there.... * sweet sugar coated jeeeezus it's to early for this*

Mr. LT: HA HA HA HA, SO IF I HIT THE F4 BUTTON WHAT DOES IT DO? WHAT HAPPENS IF I NEED SOMETHING? SO HOW DO I SIGN IN? HA HA HA

Me: Ugh.

So I go show him how to sign in, get him all set up and appraised of what happens when the phone rings, what his responsibilities are. No problem. His very first phone call

Mr. LT: HI, TIMOTHY AUTO SUPPLY, THIS IS MR. LT HA HA HA WHAT CAN I DO FOR YA??

RIGHT, RIGHT, HA HA HA. YEAH I KNOW. SURE.

SURE THING PAL. SEE YA. HA HA HA.

Now my skin is starting to crawl and my ears might have been bleeding a little. And I might be just a little too hung over to listen to a loud talker all day. Around 1:30 we got really busy. There are only 3 of us and 16 phone lines. We're all jammin along, all of us on the phone talking to a customer, he answers a phone call, turns to us and says

"HEY, DID ONE OF YOU GUYS TALK TO SO AND SO'S AUTO REPAIR ABOUT BALL JOINTS FOR AN F150??"

Like it was necessary to yell across a 10 foot room. I dropped my phone from my ear and said

"You *do* know this room isn't that big? You don't *really* need to yell."

His response????

"HA HA HA SORRY."

Finally, at the end of the day we're sitting around talking. He tells us all kinds of personal shit and random bits we don't need to know. Examples:

I AM NOT REAL GOOD WITH HOUSE REPAIRS

IN THE SUMMER I WORK OUT BECAUSE I LIKE TO WALK AROUND WITH MY SHIRT OFF.

I CAN'T COOK. WHAT SHOULD I COOK TONIGHT FOR DINNER??

HA HA, TOMORROW I SHOULD HAVE MORE ENERGY, I'LL GET A GOOD NIGHTS SLEEP TONIGHT.

*I actually, at this point, suggested he take some kind of depressant because he is very loud and if he became any more exuberant I might just have to de-squeak him like they do dogs. He said to me

HUH, I'VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE, AM I TOO LOUD???

And my personal Fav:

YEAH.............. LIKE I TOLD MR. BOSSMAN I HAVE BEEN CLEAN AND SOBER FOR ALMOST A YEAR NOW. IT'S GOOD. GOOD. I HAVE TO FIND OTHER THINGS TO DO. I LIKE TO GO TO KARAOKE NIGHT. AND I SPEND A LOT OF TIME IN COFFEE HOUSES. YEAHHH........

Thank GAWD I will not be in this building much longer. I might have to drive him back to drinking......

Well kids, it's official!

2007-03-13T12:23:00.000-05:00

Well, the new job, she is mine. It's a good thing, I'm not sure I can take much more of this job. Next week sometime we'll be going over my new pay scale and what they'll pay for and what they won't. Really I was trying to keep this hush hush until it was time to be on the road, but the lady upstairs Mrs. BossesDaughterinlaw just blew it wide open for me. Much to my distress. There's going to be some animosity. People who've been here far longer than me are going to be pissed they weren't offered the position. So by the beginning of April I should have a new lease on life, more money, and a lot of really pissed co-workers.

Man! This is going to ROCK!

You can call me Dr. Doolittle

2007-03-12T08:01:00.000-05:00

I like animals. I always have liked animals. I've been bitten by dogs, scratched by cats, kicked and smushed by horses, and chewed on by gerbils. It doesn't matter, I still like animals. And they apparently know it. Since last summer I have two pretty pit bull girls who come to see me every time they get out of their fenced yard (which is pretty much whenever they want). I also have a German Sheppard/ Rottweiler cross who comes to visit. Two years ago I had a family of 5 skunks living under my porch, and this winter it seems I have several cats living under the crawl space to the house. I don't mind, well, maybe I had a little problem with the skunks..... Anyway, we were just lounging around yesterday doing a fat lot of nothing and someones knocking on the door. Our first though is "oh crap! Who's here now?" When I answered the door there was a GIANT Stafordshire Terrier looking in the door at me and a tiny little Asian woman holding the leash.

Lil'old lady: You own him?

Me: Ahh, no but he's beautiful... (exit the house)

Lil'old Lady: Oh.... I tell him to go home and he come here. You know him? He come to my yard and I don know what to do with him.

Me: I have no idea who he is! (at which point he was trying to pull this tiny lady off my porch and I grab his leash which OBVIOUSLY means I now take responsibility for this mammoth dog)

Lil'old Lady: Ah, you take to pound for me? He too big for me.....

Me: Ah, no. Hey honey, can you call the SPCA? Or 911 or something? We can't let him run around free, he'll get squished.

The Capt: Ok, I called the SPCA, there was an emergency number and I called that too. no one answered.

Me: Can you call the Police Department?

The Capt: (slams door)

Me: *sigh*

Lil'old Lady: I can't let him in my house, I have 4 cats and birds. What kind of dog do you have, a Yorkie? Will you stay with him? I need to go home.

Me: Um..... ok.......

The Capt: Ok, give me the dog. Go get whatever you need to to stay out here with the dog until the cops show up. I can't believe you did this, why do you always do this?

So anyway, the cops finally came and took this great behemoth to the SPCA to be scanned for a microchip. I hope his owners find him and get him a bigger collar so he can't escape again. I'd have happily kept him if I knew he wouldn't have eaten my lil'dog. but that was the highlight of my weekend. I kinda secretly hope he comes back to hang out.

Ahhh... yeah bitches. I'm a consumer!

2007-03-07T08:33:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I ordered my New! Better! Camera! yesterday. Now, I might just die waiting for it to get here, because I think we know, with a better camera my pics will be better. It's all the camera, not me. I don't take crappy pics. No Way. It's all the camera's fault! Duh! Ok, anyway! New! Camera!

Behold! The glory that is my new Fuji S9100

I might have peed a little from excitement.

_________________________________________________

Current Status:

Step 3: Your credit/debit card has been successfully charged. Please note that you may no longer make changes to your order.

____________________________________________________

UPDATE!

SHIPPED!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY! My brain! She melts with excitement!

A Tale Of Liquidous Assholous....

2007-03-05T09:33:00.000-05:00

I come home last Thursday evening to find The Capt. incapacitated on the couch looking like someone took a large piece of charcoal to his under eyes. He says he doesn't feel good, he's got tummy yuckies. Which, to be honest? Not usually that big of a deal. His gastrointestinal tract is as delicate as a Touch-Me-Not flower. So we're sitting around watching AI and all the sudden this look of fear, pain, and sphincter clenching crosses his face and he bolts for the bathroom. You need to know we do not have an exhaust fan in the bathroom and the smell that followed him out of the bathroom made my eyes water it was so horrifying. He comes out of the bathroom pale and sweating, "There's something wrong with me" Just think of the scene in the movie 'Deamcatcher' where the critter explodes out of the guys ass, you'll have an idea of the situation then. So he spent the night on the couch because it's nearer to the bathroom and there would be less chance he'd soil my bed and his undershorts. He did finally come into bed around 5:30am, but he whimpered like a dog who's been beat in his sleep. (He told me Saturday he actually thought he might die that night and seriously considered calling for me while he was shitting and trying not to fall asleep so I could make sure he didn't die.) So I got up for work, brought him some water, ginger ale and Gatorade and left for work. When I got home at 5:30 I swear to god he hadn't moved all day. He was still in bed and he looked like someone had wrung all the water out of him and hung him up to dry. Even now he is still not OK, he's not shitting compulsively anymore but his system still isn't perfect. I did catch him yesterday sitting on the couch watching TV and all the sudden he sat straight up, eyes wide with a perfect 'O' mouth and shot off to the bathroom. I am kinda jealous of him, he lost like 15 lbs just being sick.

On a lighter note, Friday afternoon I'm working in the warehouse and I have a fill in driver. I didn't know he was working to 5:30. The Driver will be henceforth known as Rico Suave. I think he's Armenian. Our conversation goes like this:

Me: (Walking towards Rico Suave)Oh, hey, you're back. Great. You can make this last delivery for me. (Stop walking now due to immense stink cloud I just walked into) *GAG*

Rico: Yes. But.. I must go to bathroom first. Might be awhile....

Me: Fine. *GAG* Whatever. Don't throw your underwear in the trash.

(He went to the bathroom, came back and took the delivery)

So I'm standing at the desk flipping through the paper when he comes back. He saunters over to my desk and leans jauntily on the edge

Rico: So? You no know who I am, eh? Now you know, I am your 5:30 guy... (giant toothy grin)

Me: Yep, now I know.

And he just stands there leaning oh so casually on the edge of my desk with his giant toothy grin staring at me while I try desperately not to look at him. Eventually he saunters away every so often turning and looking at me. And I swear this part is the gods honest truth, it was like he was posing for me. He would stop, look at me and pose. It was like a living Zoolander. I have never been so glad to leave work.

I'm the Cook Bitch!

2007-02-28T07:59:00.000-05:00

I've been cooking for a long time. When I was a kid I made cookies and helped my Gram with dinner, and I was a regular attendee in my fathers kitchen. I know how to cook. I do it well. I've never poisoned anyone, or even made them a little sick! I'm good like that. Last night I made Goulash. A quick simple meal I can throw together. Except! The Capt. was home. He who cannot boil water for Mac and Cheese comes wandering into my kitchen....

The Capt: Hey! That smells great! That's sad that something as simple as onions, garlic, green peppers and burger smells great!

Me: Well, there's YumYum in there too...

The Capt: Whats YumYum?

Me: The pig my mom had slaughtered..... *(at which point his eyes might have opened so wide I was afraid they might fall out)

The Capt: YOU'RE COOKING BEEF AND PORK TOGETHER???? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT MAKES BACTERIA??? YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!!!

Me: Well, every other time I've cooked hamburger and pork sausage together you ate it and never died from it. You do know I've been cooking your food for almost 9 years now right? You're not dead yet...

The Capt: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYeeeyeyeyeyeyeaaaaaaaaaaaa Bacteria!!! BACTERIA!!!

I think he even fell to the floor clutching his stomach at one point. Anyway, it was good like usual. And The Capt. ate it like a good little boy. And! He didn't even DIE! Or go into CONVULSIONS! Or Anything!

I KNOW! RIGHT!

Now all we have to work on is the Dreaded Left Overs. Just because it has been housed in that cold box in our kitchen for more than 2 days does not make food spoiled! I need to show him the difference between spoiled food and good food. Maybe I'll make a list of key things to look for on the fridge...

1. Is it growing fuzz, fur, fluff or spots?

2. Is it leaking strange colored fluids not associated with the original food color?

3. Does it have a sour smell, like sour milk?

If it has none of these indicators EAT IT AL-FUCKING-READY! IT'S FINE FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION! *geez*

This kid needed to grow up around my dad.

Word of the day...

2007-02-23T15:58:00.000-05:00

Sometimes these things just fall in my lap and how could I live with myself if I didn't share them with you?

Word: Prosti-Tot

Definition: A young girl with too much makeup and not enough clothes.

An obviously underage girl who dresses like a whore...

(n) 1. Young Girl who dresses in a scandelous manner. 2. Female preteen
intent on attracting adult men.

Example of Proper usage: That prostitot should put on some clothes.

That prostitot is showing her diaper

Now I know what to call all those lil'girls I've simply been calling Whore.....

My first car.....

2007-02-19T11:05:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged by Carissa to tell you folks about my first car. Let me tell you I cringe when I think of that thing, but when I got it? OOOOOoooo! Momma! I was a happy girl. I thought I was hot shit in that thing, yes, you can laugh at that. My very first car was a Vintage 1987 Chrysler Le Baron 4 door, 2.2 non turbo, Poop Brown with a lovely Maroon interior that I paid $1,000 for. This car came with an amazing set of problems. When I got it I knew it had a vacuum leak which caused it to tach out at 6,000 rpm's when you started it before dropping back down to a normal idle level. Not such a terrible problem except we could never find the leak, so every time I started my car it sounded like it might blow the fuck up unless I threw it into drive as soon as I started it. Which I did fairly often (because OMG! SO EMBARRASSING!), which, in case you're wondering, is NOT GOOD for the car. It didn't matter, I totally hearted this car in all it's Poop Browniness because it's Mine! MIIIIINE! The following winter the next problem showed up. No Heat. At All. Where I lived at the time was part of the snow belt in PA and most mornings it was many many degrees in the negative. No dipstick heater or magnetic oil pan heater in the world could make this car want to start. So on the days I could get my car to start I drove to work with many many blankets shivering all the way. At the time I was working for a dealership and I had a mechanic take a look at the car for me because No heat? Not OK. He took it out for a test drive and blew a giant hole in my radiator. Why you ask? Well because the previous owner or place where I bought this hunk of shit put sawdust in the radiator, which was the cause of my no heat problem. Would you like to know WHY they might put sawdust in my radiator? Well, let me tell ya. It's an old folk remedy for a leaky radiator the draw back to this remedy is that it plugs up the rest of the system, therefore, No Heat. So we flushed the system and put a new radiator in it. YAY for heat right? Right. On to the next issue with Poop browniness mobile. After the radiator problem the car decided it didn't really like to go more than 7 - 10 miles without a good rest. So it decided to make me stop. I could go 7 - 10 miles before the brakes would seize up on me. Oh, no not all at once, it was if I was driving with my foot on the brake pedal, the farther I would go the more pressure would be applied to the brakes. The remedy for this was to stop the car and wait. The pressure would back down after about 10 minutes and I could continue on my next 7 - 10 miles before my next stop. I shattered several sets of brake pads this way. Yes. Shattered. On several occasions I would get up early, drive to work and change my brake pads in the parking lot before work, or my dad would come to my work after he got done with work and change them for me so I could get home with out dying in a fiery Le Baron crash. We tried everything to fix this problem. We changed the Power Booster, Master Cylinder, Proportioning Valve, all the Steel lines, Brake Hoses (front and rear) and the Calipers and nothing ever fixed it. I think we put more money into this car in repairs that did nothing than what I paid for this car! Eventually I sold this car to a 16 year old who thought for sure he could fix it because Duh, I'm just a Girl! I MUST be doing something wrong! It gives me a sick sense of happiness to know he could never fix it either and it ended up sitting in a field rotting away and contaminating the ground water. Maybe if you're lucky, someday I'll tell you about the automotive travesty of existence my second car was!

Could someone stab me please?

2007-02-15T08:46:00.000-05:00

I don't know what I did wrong. I have to have done something to deserve this. There has to be a reason. Let me recap and give you the details and you can tell me what I could have done to deserve such shittiness. We had the ice and slush shit yesterday so the Big Boss Man sent us all home at 2 due to bad roads. Yay, right? Not so much. I told The Capt. to shovel yesterday morning before it all froze to the ground. When I got home he had shoveled the porch steps. That was it. Ok, that's not so bad right? I go in the house and do the dishes and putter around, decide I'm hungry so I grab a yogurt out of the fridge. I walked over to the garbage can popped the lid and licked it. As I reel my tongue back it I realize it tastes like MOLD. *GAG* I turn, throw the yogurt, spoon and all, into the trash and haul ass to the bathroom fighting my gag reflex the whole way. Twenty minutes later I can still taste mold. *shudder* We went out to lunch (which sucked) came home and finished shoveling. We decided last night since my car is better in the snow he would take my car today. He has farther to go than me. Make sense right? We get up this morning, he gets ready to go just as I'm hopping in the shower. I finish getting ready, go out, start up the truck and realize he didn't put the trash out. This is the first indicator of the shittiness to follow. I go back into the house, grab all my stuff and lock up. I throw my stuff in the truck, put the trash out and go to scrape the truck off. I searched everywhere in that tiny little truck and guess what..... NO SCRAPER. Fuck. Back to the house, search around and the best thing I could find to try and scrape the windshield was a spatula. Now I am starting to get pissed. The spatula did absolutely NOTHING so I figured fuck it I can see enough to drive to work I just can't use the wipers, I'll just go to work and use someone else's scraper. Hop in the truck throw it in reverse and *Zzzzzzppphhhbbb*. Grrr... Ok, I'll rock it out. First gear, reverse, first gear, reverse...... I can't even get it to rock. Now my brain is starting to scream a little because IF HE'D JUST SHOVELED YESTERDAY MORNING LIKE I SAID TO I WOULDN'T HAVE THIS FUCKING PROBLEM. GAH. Fucker. So I called one of the guys at work, got him to come and get me. So I'm at work. Pissed. I sent The Capt. a nasty little text message. He didn't like it too much. He called me right away and I asked him why he didn't have a scraper in his car. His response to me was this

"Well, you took my scraper."

Are you fucking kidding me? He's super extra special lucky I wasn't within cutting distance of him because he was making me a little stabby. I might have cut him had he been near me. As an added bonus I have a Doctors appointment tonight that I have to get to and I'm not sure how I'll get there. I asked him if he was coming home tonight and he actually said to me "I have to train tonight. I have a life you know and I have stuff to do." Um, YOU BOUGHT THE HUNK OF SHIT TRUCK FUCKER.

So in review:

I ate moldy yogurt
I had to shovel
He didn't put out trash
He had no scraper *because I took it*
And I can't get the truck *that I hate and told him not to buy* out of the driveway

Why does Sweet Baby Jeebus hate me? WHY!!?!?!?!?!?!

Because I'm nice like that.....

2007-02-12T14:23:00.000-05:00

There's this little old widow who lives across the street from me and was the very first person who made me welcome when I moved in to this area. She has 2 children, one of whom lives rather far away and the other is too wrapped up in his own life. So for Valentines day I thought it might be nice to leave a little gift on her porch. The question is do I get some flowers and leave them? Or make some muffins? She has been very sweet to me. Last winter I shoveled her driveway twice, it really was no big deal, I was already out doing mine. Her drive way is short but on a very nasty incline and I didn't want her trying to do it herself. A few weeks later I find a thank you card in my mail box with 2 gift cards worth $10 each ! So you can see she's a nice little old lady and I thought it'd be a nice thing to do. So idea's? Suggestions?

I always miss the best stuff!

2007-02-07T15:33:00.000-05:00

My brain is trying to convince my liver to become a bar fly if for nothing more than the stories! And Weirdo's. And Homeless people which have recently settled at 'Our Bar'. Last night the Capt. stopped for a drink with Mr. Numb3rs and more insanity broke loose! The Capt ordered his drink and realized he'd left his cellular telephonic device in the vehicle of which me do not speak for fear of 'I told you so' flying out of my mouth. He starts out the door to his 'vehicle' and runs smack dab into a large mammal wearing a wife beater with his jacket jauntily draped across his shoulder and giving the crazy eye in negative OhMyGodItsSoFuckingCold degrees. Fast forward a little bit, he comes back into the Pub and Sir Crazy has apparently decided he should use the ladies room. As Mr. Numb3rs informs The Capt of this Sir crazy comes bursting out of the hallway Yelling at every on in the bar "FUCK WITH ME!!! COME ON FUCK WITH ME!!!" Repeatedly. A lot. In peoples faces. It's all The Capt and Mr. Numb3rs can do not to laugh in Sir Crazy's face and 'Poke the Tiger'. Sir crazy flys out the door once he realizes his request will not be fulfilled in this Pub.

I have 2 questions about this story.

1. What was this guy ON? Coke? PCP? Meth?

2. Why are there so many crazies out lately? I thought that happened in the summer! Is there something in the water we're not aware of? Government Testing???

Imagine The Savings!

2007-02-06T14:40:00.000-05:00

Super Bowl Sunday I arrived home around 5:30, and after driving 6 hours cooking is not on my To Do list. We popped over to our local pub to grab a bite to eat praying it wasn't too crowded. Imagine our surprise to find our pub populated not by foot ball crazed fans but by freaks! We sat down at a table and surprise! We're sitting next to a David Bowie impersonator. A Gayer one if you can believe that! (Is that even possible?? Really??) As it turns out his Pee Wee's Play House Word of the Day was "Whhooooooooo!!!!!", and let me tell you! That man LOVED his word of the day. As we sat there giggling at our new "Whhooo" friend, Sgt. Touch-A-lot sauntered clumsily over to our table and starts rubbing my back.

"Wow!! WOW! YOU'RE ALL TIGHT!!! (Shakes me like he's mixing a drink.) WHATS WRONG WITH YOU??!?!?! (Shaking. Again.) HEY CAPT!!! I'M RUBBING YOUR WIFE'S BACK!!!! OK?? OK?? IS THAT ALRIGHT?? (By now I think I have whiplash.)ALL IN GOOD FUN RIGHT PAL???!?!?!?!!" *Smacks his large meaty hand on my back, shakes The Capt's hand, pulls into him and gives him a good squeeze for good measure and smacks The Capt's back too.*

Eventually, he ambles off to rub his personal bits on some other unfortunate woman.

But! Just like that damned cat, he came back. After about 7 more rum and cokes he didn't need. Sombitch didn't even wait until the very next day. Take a minute and replay that little back rubbing scenario over in you mind, only add a few repeated questions "HEY WHATS WRONG WITH YOU" and a few "IF I HURT YOU TELL ME"s in there. Then he moved on to the next victim at our table. The Sgt. must have shook hands with our good friend Mr. Numb3rs elleventy billion times and then proceded to tell him how Mr. Numb3r's car (350z) and truck (96 nissan truck) cost more than his truck even with all the nasty pimp my ride shit he's done to it. My response (because I'm an intrusive bitch) "Well, he doesn't have a wife. Or kids." To which our good friend Mr. Numb3rs pipes right up and says....

"Imagine the Savings!"

And at that Sgt. Touch-A-Lot finished accosting everyone else in the bar and ambled out to his truck and was gone into the night much to the patrons relief.

*sigh* Why can't I be in there when the fun stuff happens? Like Saturday night when the homeless guy tried to drink the Windex?

She looked like Madonna, but not really.....

2007-01-29T10:09:00.000-05:00

So, Saturday night we took a stroll over to our local watering hole to meet up with some friends. As it turns out, we got more than we bargained for. It was a night worth remembering! We walked in around 9 and sat in our usual seats at the end of the bar where the waitresses and bartenders hang out. There were a few people we knew hanging around, and we were chatting away having a grand ol'time right up until we hear this. We'll call this woman Madonna, you'll see why soon enough.

Madonna: "We've been hear since 4. I'm druuuunk. I can still understand what you're saying though. Ya know what I mean? I'm not to that point yet."

The Capt. turns and looks at me with that cocked eyebrow look that says 'This could go real good, or real bad'. The things that came out of her drunk mouth were absolutely HYSTERICAL. It went a little something like this....

Capt: Oh yeah? But you're not to the point where you need to go home huh?

Madonna: Oh no. I'm Puerto Rican, I can handle my beer...

Capt: Well, that's good.

Madonna: I grew up in P.R. I used to think I looked like Madonna. But I didn't really, I only thought I did. Wait I have pictures....

The Hippie (our bar tender friend): You better watch your self Capt. She's a spit fire..

Madonna: Yeah, I'm a Spic farm.

Me, The Capt. and The Hippie: What???? What did you just say????

Madonna: Yeah I'm a Spic Farm...

(At which point we all dissolved into hysterical laughter, I might have peed a little from that.)

Madonna: You have to watch yourself. Us Puerto Rican girls, we'll cut you... Here's the pictures! I thought I looked like Madonna and I was skinny but really I was chubby.

The Capt: LOOK HOW BIG YOUR HAIR WAS!

Madonna: I know right?? I wore the stretchy pants, ya know, the stretchy pants? You know what I mean?? And look in that picture, at the door. In P.R. we didn't have door knobs, we used a butter knife. And in this picture you can see our driveway. That was our neighbors house and that was our driveway. That Fucking Bitch was a Fucking Asshole....

I think we left at 11. Madonna and her Hubs were still there telling stories and being a spic farm........

I just don't know what to do....

2007-01-26T11:58:00.000-05:00

Well, I am lost. Screwed. And tattooed. They story goes like this. We hired a friend of mine (at my recommendation), here after known as The Parts Nazi, to dispatch drivers. Not a particularly difficult job. Of course he's 22 years old (and doesn't drive), which might be a bit young for a management position. Yeas, we hired him to direct drivers and he doesn't drive, I KNOW! He's been working with me for maybe 6 months. He's a good kid, works hard and best of all, shows up every day (albeit, stone to the gills). Withing the last month he has turned into a complete and utter hard ass. For no apparent reason other than the fact he has Power now. POWER! MWHAHAHAHAHA! The first time I said something to him he reacted defensively. I even tried to be very diplomatic about it because we are friends and I would think it would be easier coming from a friend rather than reprimanded by a 'boss'. I must have been wrong wrong wrong. He chased me into the office and yelled at me not to embarrass him in front of the drivers, he's there boss "especially when I'm OBVIOUSLY WONG" OH, hold the fuck up young man. I turned to him and explained to him I am the one with the car, I am the one who drives and I, MORE LIKELY THAN NOT, AM RIGHT! He did pout a few days over that one.

The next incident came a few weeks later. He forced a driver to take something and drop it off on the way home, on their own time. This is not cool. You can ASK the drivers to drop things off on their way home, which if you're nice to them they will do. You can offer them overtime if it's really far out of their way. But forcing them under threat of unemployment is not cool. As it happens, I was having a party that weekend and he was invited. We had a nice little chat about how to treat the drivers and what is ok and what isn't cool. I thought everything was A-OK after that. Once again, WRONG.

Today I had one of my female drivers (there are only 2) come to me crying because The Parts Nazi screamed at her in front of everyone (not cool), cursed at her (not cool), and treated her like a child because he thinks she did something wrong. Which really she was following the directions she got when she was hired and he just doesn't remember what he said. I said something to our Accounting/HR/do everything cuz she's the bosses daughter in law again, but no one will say anything because it's so hard to get anyone to actually WORK at work anymore. So, then it's left up to me. If I talk to him again it's going to turn into a blow out when I explain to him Yes, I am your fucking boss and you no longer have the right to do the things you are doing because I FUCKING SAID SO BITCH. Or, if I don't, we lose good drivers because they will quit, which it's equally hard to find good drivers. None of the upper management wants anything to do with this and I don't know where to go with it. Anyone have any advice?

I might have to hit him with a bag of hot nickles.....

This Just In........

2007-01-25T10:04:00.000-05:00

*beep bu-beep beeeeeeep beep beep*

Good Evening and Welcome to The Evening News With The Laundry Broad.

Tonight we have breaking news. Delivered in the post today came a letter with Eatsern Center fot the Arts and Technology. As you might imagine this was a nerve wracking experience for the Laundry household.

Laundry Broad: " I just didn't know what to do. I just sat there and looked at the envelope."

We are happy to report that the Laundry Broad has passed the exam and will now be considered for admittance to LPN school.

Thank You and have a Good Night.

*beep bu-beep beep beeeep*

The Scale.....

2007-01-17T09:32:00.000-05:00

***Possibly not safe for my dad to read. You may get grossed out, just so you know.

Lately The BIFF's have been discussing the cost of a blow job and whether or not we should charge for such services. Well, last night a similar conversation came up in the Laundry household.

The Capt: Can I get you to at least touch it tonight?

Me: I told you yesterday I hurt my hand. I'd have to use my left.

The Capt: That would work for me..... Or you could touch it with your mouth...

Me: OOooohhhh..... those are my options huh?? What do I get out of this?

The Capt: UUuuummmm.... I have $5 dollars.....

Me: No way! Touching it with my mouth is worth way more than $5 dollars.

The Capt: I'll give you all the money I have over there in my hat.

Me: How much?

The Capt: I'm not telling and tipping my hand....

Me: Fine I'll look myself. FOURTEEN DOLLARS??? That's what you think touching it with my mouth is worth?? Geeez..... cheapo.

The Capt: Well, how much then?

Me: At least $20. It should be at least $20. For touching with my left hand.

The Capt: WHAT?? That should be like $4!! Hands should be $4, Blow Jobs like $14 and Anal like $20!

Me: HAHAHAHA! Are you kidding? $4 dollars to touch it?? I wouldn't get it near my mouth for less than $20, and Anal?? Are you kidding? You'd best just sign over your paycheck bitch.

The Capt: *Pfffftttt* What ever..... *miserable bitch doesn't even like my wiener anymore*

Me: You know I'm going to have to tell the girls about this. We were discussing this the other day.

The Capt: Discussing what?

Me: You know, how much we charge....

The Capt: There's something wrong with you guys.... seriously.....

So now girls and boys we have a pay scale. Does it work for you?

Touch left handed: $10
Mouth: $20 (price adjustable for Finishing Move)
Anal: Give me your pay check.

I don't hate all foreigners.....

2007-01-15T11:08:00.000-05:00

I just want to make that clear before I tell you this story. Working in Philly has really opened my eyes as far as different accents. I have spanish guys, korean guys, chinese and japanese, a few russians, some english guys, pretty much you pick it I hear it. Whn I first started this job I had an awful time 'hearing' and 'understanding' but after awhile I learned to 'hear' what they were saying, not what it sounded like. For example:

Korean Customer: "I nee a stata fow ninee-sic cysler cillus"
Translation: "I need a starter for a nintey-six chrystler cirrus"

Me: "How are you today Boris?"
Boris the Russian: "Marrrrrvolous, just Maaarrrrrrvolous! You send me Brrrrakes and Rrrrotor for tempo, is good, ya?"

Now, mostly I have gotten past the accent differences except for with a few customers. These guys piss me off because they don't even TRY to be intelligable! There enunciation sucks so bad I want to rip their tongues right out of their mouths. I understand, yes, you learned most of the language which is a HUGE undertaking, I can't even learn Portuguese. But, here's the difference. I AM NOT IN A COUNTRY THAT SPEAKS PORTUGUESE. I don't mind if you make mistakes in the application of our language, it's to be expected. What pisses me off is the fact they make no attempt to ennunciate. I have this whispery little fuck who is SO. DIFFICULT. Example:

Whispery Little Fuck: "Emeency swi.. in coroo...you knoo.... fo emeency.. bink bink... you kno...... wha I mea????
Translation: "I need a emergency switch (also known as hazard light switch) in the coloumn, you know, the emergency light switch, do you understand what I mean?"

Me:"AAAAAARRRGGGG MUTHERFUCK!! NO I DO NO KNO WHA YOU MEA..... STOP WHISPERING!!!! I HATE YOU!!"

Please, for the love of god someone kill me before I cut someone.....

Joke of the day....

2007-01-11T14:23:00.000-05:00

Whats the difference between a Wicker Basket and a Wicker Box?

.
.
.
.
.
.

A Wicker Basket goes on the front of you bicycle to carry things....

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

A Wicker Box is what Buggs Bunny wants to do to Madonna...

ba dum dum cha-

Funny Stories about What I Do...

2007-01-10T12:22:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't know I sell Auto parts to Mechanics. Yeah, thats what I said, Car Parts. I am the only girl at my business. It's not so bad really. I am good at what I do, I have to be. When I started on this business I had just quit college and I needed a job they way you need air. So when a job at our local AutoZone popped up I jumped at the chance. Retail sucks. Retail sucks worse when you're in a predominately male industry. And even worses than just a male industry?? Most Do it Yourselfer's have NO.CLUE. A typical day went like this:

Me: Can I help you find something sir?

Dumb Man Type: UUuuhhhh.... is there one of the guys around?

Me: Sure thing sir! HEY TIMMY! YOU GOT A CUSTOMER!!
*(side note, Timmy was a little retarded. No. Really. Little bus to school retarded)

Dumb Man Type: I need a plenum gasket for my Cirrus...

Timmy: hey Laundry Broad? Whats a Plenum gasket? Who make a cirrus? How do I look it up in the computer? Duuuurrrrrr.....

Dumb Man Type: *heavy sigh of frustration, hate, discontent because now the GIRL is going to help me even if I didn't want her to cuz GIRLS DON'T KNOW ABOUT CARS GEEZ!*

On the inside I was laughing while I innocently helped Timmy look things up at a drastically reduced speed. Because he is slow. And also? I WIN FUCKER.

Anyone else work in male retail land? Can anyone explain to me why all 'Older' men want to call me 'Hunni', 'Sweetie' in that sickeningly sweet maybe I want to fuck you later voice? AND TOUCH YOU??? I DO NOT NEED YOU TO RUB MY BACK WHILE I GET YOUR AIR FILTER! And? For realz?? Stop asking me how I learned about cars. I did it the same way boys do it. Really. Honest! Just because I habe an 'Innie' not an 'Outie' doesn't mean that I never got my hands dirty, or I 'read up on it' and have no actual practical knowledge of how to change you brakes.

Oh, also? Hey guys?? Just so you know. Wearing sweatpants out of the house without nut huggers? Not such a good idea. I can see your Junk Jiggle. I don't really want to see your junk, jiggly or otherwise. It's like the guy version of Camel Toe. No one needs to see that. Not even Sweet Baby Jebus.

The "Man" put Crack out as population control.....

2007-01-08T10:31:00.000-05:00

We went out to our local watering hole yesterday for the "Big Game". It was a good time mostly. We got a chance to catch up with a few people we hadn't seen in a while, and also there was our friend 'The Hipster". What you need to understand about him is he truly is a pot smokin', tree huggin', burn out. The things that came out of his mouth yesterday were truly blog gold. I had to take notes to keep up. Allow me to shed the golden light of Hippidom upon your uneducated heads......

"'The Man' put out Crack as a way to control the population, man...."

"Man, I took Crack once and it was like 'I don't feeeeeel right' man... it's definitely not a recreational drug......" (come to find out later he does smoke the Crack pretty regular, who knew???)

"When McNabb got speared in the chest last season it knocked out his soul..."

"Thirteen is NO lucky number man. I was born on 4-13-67 man...."

"Go man! Do it for the Japanese guys over in Japan and the Troops Man! They're watching by satellite RIGHT NOW!' (yelled at the TV screen during the game)

"December is Jesus's month man. January and February are Satan's months. Didn't you ever wonder why everyone is all happy in December and everyone is crying in January and February??"

"Yeah man. Six is Satan's Number. I was gonna marry my girl this year, get a nose job and get her a ring but it's 2006 man! Six is Satan's number! I'm going to do it next year, Seven! Seven is Jesus's number!"

"Man I don't even read the Bible, all you gotta do is look around. It's everywhere!"

These little jewels just popped out of his mouth all unexpected. I am just glad I was there to witness it and write all this down for you loyal readers.....

Happy Fucking New Year?

2007-01-04T10:59:00.000-05:00

Ok. The things I hate about this year already.

1) Stupid people who stop where they are when the little stop sign pops out of the side of a bus. YOU CAN MOVE THE FUCK UP TO THE BUS! Continue to place your foot on the gas pedal and move your ass up to the bus. You do not need a football field in front of your car. You will not run any small children over if you MOVE UP. Oh? And one more thing Mr. Igotmydriverslicencefromacerealbox, stop spiking your breaks when you see the little sign come out. Do you break 400 yards away from the stop sign when you see one at an intersection? Do you creep up on it when it's not looking? Stop. Feather foot off break, a little gas, BREAK. Creeeeeeepppppp...... STOP DRIVING LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!

2) I got this kid hired. He's a decent kid. He shows up everyday (albeit stoned to the gills). Suddenly he's decided I'm not his boss. Oh No You Didn't. Listen here you little fuck. I.Am.You.Superior. I am your boss, and the boss of everything you do, see, say, speak. I am the boss of the people you are the boss of. DO.NOT.ARGUE.WITH.ME.

3) Having fight night at the house and discovering I dislike one of the attendee's even less than originally suspected. A typical conversation goes like this:

The Capt. "Yeah, I've been thinking about trading the truck in for a Cooper Mini, they handle better"

Mr. Fast and Furious: "Oh Dude, don't say that, that's a girl car! If you wanted to get one Laundry Broad that'd be ok. But The Capt. needs a truck." (apparently because trucks are more MANLY)

Me: "Uhhhh is that why you drive your nifty little zippy Honda Mr. PimpMyRide? Cuz, seriously, that's a MANLY ass car!"

Mr. F&F: "uuhhhmmm, duasjfhfbwehqlghf *insert excuse here* Nu uh... My car rocks....."

ME: "Yeah, that's kinda what I thought. Zippy."

He just basically was being mean and nasty to make himself look better. Which it did not. He won't be attending any more fight nights. Ass tard of the highest quality. Plus I am starting to think he might be of the 'Man Toucher' variety and won't admit it to himself and that's the reason he's so angry. Think on it.

And so 4 days into the new year and I'm already filled with hate and discontent. Ahhhh... it shall rock this year.

Fuckers....

The Measure of Love

2006-12-16T17:34:00.000-05:00

When you think of love, your boy(girl)friend or spouse, what do you think? The overly romantacized version of Hollywood love? Fall in love, overcome some horrible trauma, fall into each others arms to live happily ever after? I used to think that way too. Now I know its not all flowers and roses. When I was a teenager I went after the bad boy in hopes of rehabilitating him and turning him into the love of my life, blah blah blah, a regular old Hollywood movie about teen angst and if he had just one person who loved him unconditionally he would turn his life of hatred and fear around and love me back. Feel sick to your stomach yet? The lesson I learned in that season of my life is people will not change for you, they only change for themselves, if you think for one instant they are changing for you? You are being used, manipulated and degraded. And it's your own fault. Don't get me wrong. People can and do change for others. But it has to be their choice. They have to want to change for you. That, my deahhhh's, is they ultimate key. Love is powerful enough to make them WANT to change. The key is also the catch 22. It's hard to tell the difference between when they change because they love you and want to and when they're just manipulating you. It leads to many a broken heart and bruised soul. But when you find the person you need to be with, every wound, every bruise, every tear shed in the agony of broken heart after broken heart is worth it, and they no longer matter. It can't hurt you any more and you can look back and appreciate everything good and bad about every relationship no matter how long or how short it was. You realize you learn from each and every situation you go through, and how abso-fucking-lutely lucky you are to have found what you have. The things that give me the warm fuzzy feeling about love and make me feel like my heart might burst from the love I feel, so much so it almost hurts, are the times he held my hair when I puked. How considerate he can be when I least expect it. That he works so hard every day to give me the things that I want in life and still fulfill his own needs. That he lectures me 'For your own good'. That he'll argue with me, when he argues it means he still cares what I think and do. These are the things that make me know, deep in my heart and my soul, that he loves me. Look for the good in you life, in your loves. Even when it seems at it's worst, there's always a spark, a tiny point of love. Appreciate it. Acknowledge it. It's seldom easy (especially if you're wrong) but do it every day. Every.Day. Tell them you need them, love them and appreciate them. And tell them why. They need to know, to hear it from you. It makes your heart light, lifts you up, makes you feel loved in your darkest hour, and we all need that. Look for it. It's there.

Christmas Card Killers

2006-12-16T08:48:00.000-05:00

I've started receiving Christmas cards from the girls a couple days ago. Apparently I neglected to tell The Capt. that I have given out our home address to people on the World Wide Interweb. *oops* This is how our conversation went:

Day 1.

Me: OOOoooo *squeee* I got a card from Carissa!

Capt: Who's that?

Me: One of the girls I hang out with online.....

Capt: Oh..

Day 2.

Me: OOOOOOoo *squeeee* I got a card from Kait!

Capt: Who's that?

Me: One of the girls I hang out with online.....

Capt: Someone's going to murder you ya know....

Me: What????

Capt: One of your 'Interweb Fwends' is going to turn out to be a crazy 45 year old guy who just got out of jail and he's going to kill you. And when people ask me what happened I'm going to have to tell them "Oh, she went online and gave out her information. Some crazy guy killed her." *shrug*

Me: *LaLaLaLaLaLa* I can't hear you.

I love my BIFF's and think they should all come to my house this summer and we can party like it's 1999, oh and you can smack The Capt. for thinking you're men.

Snakes in my MuthaFuckin' Brain!

2006-12-13T08:24:00.000-05:00

Thank you Samuel L. Jackson. Thank you for that.

Well, last night I had the worst nights sleep I have ever had, and the poor Capt.! I'm quite lucky he didn't kil me. Usually when I have nightmares it's about spiders and not usually a big deal. I dream they are on my legs under the blankets and I wake up, push the blankets back, make sure my legs are bug free and thats the end of it. I can go back to sleep no problem. Last night however, I dreamt of snakes. ALL.NIGHT.LONG. Apparently I was talking in my sleep (which is not that out of the ordinary), thrashing, and at one point I woke myself up by sitting straight up in bed sobbing and SHRIEKING at the top of my lungs "OHNOOOOOOOOOOOOO" repetedly. The Capt. kept trying to calm me down all night and I apparently mistook him for a snake at one point and beat the crap out of him. Today as a result of my 'Battle Royal' I am exhausted. Whn my alarm went off at 6:30 I almost cried.

I think I am drinking until I pass out tonight. Fucking dreams.....

You see that button over there?

2006-12-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

Yeah, that Web Awards button? Go there, Vote for Rockstar Mommy. Go now. Shoo.... go vote. Or we might have to cut you. For realz, Yo.

YA WEE BITCH YA!

2006-12-07T20:32:00.000-05:00

I can not believe I got tagged to do this shit. So not photo ready. F off Mad Mom!

AND SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I GOT MY FIRST BIFF'S CHRISTMAS CARD!

Oh, Also, to pass this tid bit of photographic hell along I tag:

LittleMissy

Katya

Sir Chachi (he never comes here)

and

SS Katie

Sorry if I'm double tagging, I'm too lazy to go check who else has already been tagged. ;P

Men! MEN! hate and friggin discontent

2006-12-07T14:22:00.000-05:00

Are ya kidding me?? SERIOUSLY!!?????? Cuz, fer realz, I don't heart this at all! Think back to a month or so ago when The Capt. WREAKED.THE.TRUCK blah blah blah, we're having the work done right? It has taken a month to get it fixed, between waiting on the Insurance Adjusters, parts and sick repair guys. Today it is fixed! Finally. My repair guy said because it is his fault he would pay for our rental truck. Exceptionally nice of him right? Right. The Capt. went to return the rental today and PAID FOR IT. WHY WOULD YOU PAY FOR IT???? He's all happy, he called me as he's walking back from Enterprise

The Capt: So I returned the truck. It only cost $300, I put it on the credit card.

Me: *&#!?(&%WMBSGS)(&%$#$* WHY did you pay for it instead of calling me?

The Capt: Well I don't know what's going on, you never tell me anything. *pout*

Me: *grumble, miserable, never listens to me* I'll call the shop...

So tell me true... What is the Golden Number of times I need to repeat myself to be heard and understood?

Excuse me? Do you Work here?

2006-12-06T09:28:00.000-05:00

Like the unerring asshole I am I decided to go shopping at our local crafty shit store Michaels on Saturday. Let me just say this. STOOPID! There was a traffic jam at the door because no one can carry 3 balls of yarn and a 6 foot piece of garland without possibly herniating a disk. I mean lord knows, those pretty glass ball ornaments must weigh all of .03587612 lbs! As I'm winding my way through this traffic clusterfuck a woman approaches me. Let me give you the first of many stoopid conversations I had that day.

Me: *grumble grumble stupid fuckers, stop hitting me with that cart before I shove it up your fat ass stoopid*

Pretty Yuppie Lady: Um, Excuse me?? EXCUSE ME??!??!!

Me: Who?? Me?

Pretty Yuppie Lady: Yes, can you tell me where those little hanger things are for ornaments? I have been all over your store and I can't find them anywhere. What DO your employees do? ANYTHING??

Me: Excuse me? I don't work here. I can't imagine what might have made you think I work here?! Is it my ORANGE shirt, while miraculously all of the staff is wearing BRITE FUCKING RED APRONS???

She ran away. Quickly.

After fighting MORTAL COMBAT * hear music here* style through he throngs of disgruntled, 'I am the only person who is important' people I finally made my way back to the yarn isle. As I peruse through the many colors and textures I hear yet another....

Lil'Old Black Lady: Excuse me?

Me: *Oh shit* Yes?

Lil'Old Black Lady: Are you a Colors girl?
*What I heard was "Are you a ColorED girl"*

Me: *Blank Stare of total and utter confusion* Excuse me?

Lil'Old Black Lady: I mean do you know your colors? What goes with what?

I spent 30 minutes with this lady trying to help her find two colors that matched well enough to make a scarf, which is ok. I don't truly mind helping, but then she follows up this half an hour of 'help' with this

Lil'Old Black Lady: Do you think you could help my friend too?

Me: UUUUuuuuuhhhhmmm......... Sure I guess I could try...........

So it looks like I shall be The Good Elf Helps A lot this Christmas season. I might just barricade myself in my house after all!

Stupid Christmas.....

2006-12-02T11:27:00.000-05:00

I have eleventy friggin billion Christmas associated things to do before Christmas in all it commercial glory gets here. I don't think I am going to make it. Lets review the list shall we?

1. Exchange The Capt.'s gift because he now wants something else, rather than what he told me he wanted in the first place.

2. Decorate the house (I am not sure why I bother... It's not like I have kids, or any of my family here to celebrate with)

3. Get a Christmas tree. (I want to know when pine friggin trees started coming out gold plated cuz seriously? $60 friggin bucks for a dying tree? *Pshaw* What evs--)

4. Get more yarn for the 367,1862 bajillion scarves I am making

5. CROCHET UNTIL I DO IT IN MY SLEEP

6. Finish shopping for everyone

7. Christmas cards. A lot of them.

8. Remember to mail stupid cards

9. Clean my house (I am so behind)

10. Pop my ear drums with a dull object so I do not have to hear 'I Wanna Hippopontamuse For Christmas', 'Dominick The Italian Christmas Donkey', or 'You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch" any more. Cuz, SERIOUSLY? I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE!

11. More stuff that I can not think of right now but will stealthily sneak up on me mere moments before I should have had them done so I turn into a screaming raving lunatic and run away from home.

Merry Friggin Christmas all

My Baby Sister...

2006-11-29T12:11:00.000-05:00

So the Tuesday before Thanksgiving turned out to change my life dramatically. (Yes, this does apply to my life, that's the perspective I'm choosing to take on this particular post) No longer can I see my Baby Sister as the sweet little child in my memories. She is now a 23 year old adult with a college degree. And a Baby of her own on the way. As you might imagine I.FREAKED.OUT. My Baby Sister? But she's like 12??!?!???!11111 Right? RIGHT??? Apparently I was wrong wrong wrong. I cried (sobbed actually), hit the very large wall of denial and was filled with sadness at first. You see my perception of prenancy and babies is not normal, or natural for that matter. When I think of babies, my brain flees from my skull in a panic worse than psnunami survivors from a wave of massive proportion. Growing up in small town America I associate it with 'trapped', 'welfare abuse' and 'inordinate amount of anger because now your life leads nowhere'. Which, I am well aware is not how it ends for most people, but it is what I witnessed growing up. These thoughts, emotions and feeling are seared into my brian with a white hot brand. And now I am finding myself faced with everything *I* fear, but now I fear it for my baby sister. I realize these are *my* feeling about it, not hers. She seems actually quite happy with it. It might not have been planned, but she is happy none the less, and I should be supportive and happy for her. And I am trying to be now. But not when I first heard about it. Thank god I had the good sense not to call her right away. So now I am trying to shop for baby and I realize I have NO IDEA what she will need, or what will help ease her day post birth. She has no family (except for her boyfriend hence forth known as The Elf) where she lives so anything we can do to make her life easier is what I want to do. So clue me in kiddies! What do I need to buy?

*** side note***

An enormous Thank you to all the girls (and Chachi) over at RSM for helping me put this in perspective and giving me ideas on the things she'll need. *MWAH* Chickies! Love you all!

What ever happened to personal responsibility?

2006-11-20T14:56:00.000-05:00

So I got to work this morning and found out someone had called out in one of our other locations, again. This seems to happen at least 3 - 4 times a month. I just don't get it. Like, at all. When you have a job, and people rely upon you to show up and do said job, where is the guilt when you screw your co-workers? I can't even take a scheduled vacation day without guilt. The way I was raised you do your job. Every. Day. That's why it's called a JOB. If it wasn't work and un-fun they'd call it 'Fun you get Paid for' or some silly shit. I just don't understand. These people want to get paid more for showing up on time, not doing something beyond what your job description is. I always thought you Do More To Get Paid more, not You Get Paid More To Do More. When did this change? Did GW have a hand in this? It's this Government related? Military maybe? My company is very good to me. I get regular raises, vacation time all the goodies, but I come to work ON TIME, and DO MY JOB to the best of my abilities, not to mention I can cover just about every other position in my company. I am who they come to with a problem because I can fix it. Unfortunately, that also makes me the hardest working individual in the company and the first one thrown under the bus. I don't mind working hard and helping out where I'm needed, but HOLY MOTHEROFCHRISTMAS! Other people should have to work too! I am not here to do everyone's job! Give me their paycheck if I'm doing their job right?

No new posts, EVAH!

2006-11-13T14:35:00.000-05:00

My apologies, I am no longer able to post here due to the fact I will be crocheting until my hands seize up and fall off.

That is all.

somedays...... DEATH AND DESTRUCTION.

2006-11-10T12:59:00.000-05:00

Has anyone ever watched a bad driver back out of a tight parking spot? Like a REALLY BAD DRIVER? Back up....stop ........ turn wheel........ pull forward........stop....... about elleventybillion times and then still scrape their side mirror? That is the Warm and Fuzzy Goodness that are my delivery drivers. Yeah, totally exciting, I know. I just want to jerk them out of the car and do it myself because holy baby jeeeebus it's NOT THAT HARD! Everyone has accidents, I know that. But people who drive for a living should know how to back out of a parking spot, parallel park, not remove their side mirrors with buildings. Ya know? Some of them have vocabularies that consist soley of mono sylibic words, so even having a conversation is like trying to rip one of your own wisdom teeth out with a set of needle nosed plyers. Ok, vent over. Hate and discontent returned to the darkest pit of my heart.....

SOOOO NOT CRAZY!

2006-11-08T13:05:00.000-05:00

Last night The Capt. and I went out for a nice meal of crab legs and beer at our local dive. It was fun and we had a good time. After we ate we popped next door, to the Irish style pub we usually hang out at. The Capt., he got a wee bit tipsy. And Argumentative. He trains mixed martial arts most every day. He wants me to train 2 days a week with him. Now, you need to understand I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS. Our conversation last night.

The Capt: "Oh yeah, you're going to start training 2 days a week with me"

Me: "Uuuuuhhhhmmmmm, no."

The Capt: "Sure you are. I am the Man and what I say goes"
*which was a joke, and I understood that.*

Me: "Yeah, good luck with that."

The Capt: "Hey Dugan (A friends of ours of the female persuasion) wanna come train with Laundry Broad two days a week?"

Me: *Look of shock and incredulity*

Dugan: "Sure, how's thursday?"

The Capt: "Perfect!"

Now I feel like I've been pushed and manipulated into doing something I had no intention of doing to begin with. I used to train with Dugan, it was fine. Previously I had told The Capt. I would only train with women so he felt validated in offering me up on a platter because, 'hey, it's a girl, you said you'd train with a girl'. Fine, ok, no big deal right? Riiiiiiight. On our way home we got in a fight about it. All I wanted was for him to have asked me if I would train with Dugan. I would have said yes. But because he made the assumption I would, I was a little disappointed and hurt. So, I said something about it. At which point he FLEW.THE.FUCK.OFF.THE.HANDLE.

"What is so wrong with trying to help you? You never do anything unless I push you as hard as I can. If manipulating you is the only way to get you to do anything I'll do it!"

"Don't tell me I can't make money out of the house by giving lessons!"
(which had nothing to do with me not wanting to train...)

"What is wrong with you? I'll pay for help. I go with you. You are out of your mind."

"what's the difference if you would have done it anyway?"

He woke me up at 3:30 and asked me if I was still mad at him. I was never mad. I was Hurt. Disappointed. All I wanted was for him to understand my point of view and agree that Yes, I should have a say in my own life. I may Smoke (I know it's bad for me), I drink, (probably to much), and I don't exercise in any conventional way but ya know what?? Its MINE. The more he pushes me to stop smoking and drinking and start exercising and taking care of myself the less I want to. It may seem childish and vindictive but God Damn do I hate to be pushed into doing things. I know it's all because 'He loves me' and 'He wants us to grow old together' but he makes me want to scream at him sometimes. I mean FUCK! LEAVE ME ALONE. It's not denial, I know all the things I do are bad for me and are killing me. Trust me, I KNOW ALREADY!

Was I wrong in thinking he should have asked me first? Am I crazy?

Pooping at work? Yes? No?

2006-11-03T13:32:00.000-05:00

I work in a small office area and the girls potty is but 10 feet from me. Granted there is a (loud) exhaust fan in there and, ya know, a door I do not believe the poopinng should occur there. Its too close to where the four of us sit. There's no 'breathing room', or barrier to block possible toxic fumes from escaping into the common area. I find the mere thought of it gross, possibly embarrassing and at least mildly inappropriate. What do YOU think?

Can I get a Do-Over?

2006-10-30T12:46:00.000-05:00

I guess it's a running trend with my life right now, God hates me. For example: Saturday morning The Capt. had a Tourny in wayne NJ. Doo dee doo, he's driving up there on a big 6 lane highway, exceeding the speedlimit I am sure, and of course he is in the everyone go super fast lane. OOops! Someone cuts in front of him, which causes him to jerk the steering wheel to the left, which causes the truck to hit the guard rail, which causes the truck to act like a pin ball and skip across the SIX lanes of traffic. He turned the bumper into ground chuck and shredded the tire. You see the cause and effect here right? It cost him $60 to get the tire changed, and he continued on his way. He did take 3rd place in the tounry, so WOOT! I am happy about that, but OH.MY.GAWD! YOU.WRECKED.OUR.TRUCK! So, not so happy about that. Then Sunday, we're just sitting at home watchin bad TV, although great 80's horror flick were on. We were staying in due to the HIGH FRIGGIN WIND. All the sudden I hear *creeeeekkkkk.... CRACK crunch crunchcrunch* I look out my window and Oh Yay, the top half of one of my soft maple trees is now horozontal providing a nice bridge for the squirrels between the trees. Oh nice. I was kinda hoping the wind would finish knocking it out of my tree, but no such luck kiddies. So now I have to figure out a way to get this giant tree top out of my tree with little to no damage to me or my property. WOOT!!! My life.... she rockth the houseth!

I Will Teach You The Ancient Martial Art of Don't Fuck With Me.

2006-10-25T13:59:00.000-05:00

I written about this in the past, and I shall do so again. My Post Office is trying to kill me. Serously! They are out to get me! On my particular route I have no set carrier. Which mean I occasionally get a carrier who can not read. I get mail for my neighbors, people who live 15 streets over, basically I get mail for anyone who doesn't happen to live at my address. I missed a payment on The Capt.'s truck because I got no bill. So I didn't pay it. Not to make you think I am Interweb handicapped but I like to have my paper bills, even if I choose to pay it online. At which point our intrest rate went up. Ok, not fair right? Just because the USPS has decided to hire people who obviously can not read I should pay the price? I went online and did what any good interweb capable person should do, I filed a letter of Complaint on their webpage. They called me, we discussed the ramifications of Non-Delivered mail blah blah blah, I still do not get my mail in a timely or orderly fashion. Then yesterday I opened my mail box to find this months truck payment.. Opened... and Re-delivered...to me.... can anyone say Identity theft?? Or stupid fucks who deliver my mail should die a long slow painful death choking on dirty dog dick? So kiddies, I am being Pro-Active. I emailed yet another complaint to USPS.com, called my local Post office and filed a complaint, wrote to my Postmaster General, wrote to my local government representative, got a copy of the route my Postal Fuck-Up takes and made a flyer with all the information to complain to the right people and I will be flyering all the houses on said Postal Fuck-Up's route. Think I'll get any results?

I don't know for sure, but I think God might hate me.

2006-10-23T10:01:00.000-05:00

Ok, so last week I tried to mow my yard.. My lawn mower looked at me and said quite clearly, "Fuck you." I figured it was the spark plug, I had had spark problems with it before and not knowing when it was last serviced it seemed the logical conclusion. I pulled the plug and decided I'd get a new one later. Fast forward almost a week later. I finally managed to get a plug this past Saturday. I gaped it, screwed it in, hooked the plug wire back up, primed it and pulled the string expecting to hear the sweet purr of the lawn mower. Fuck, I got nothin. Ok, do a little more maintenance, air filter, clean it up, pull the string??? NOTHING. Fuck, now I'm pissed. I do some calling around, all the lawn mower repair shops are closed, so I call some lawn mowing services, because seriously? My lawn NEEDS to be mowed. Badly. Guess what? They're all closed too. Double Fuck. Nothing I can do over the weekend. This morning I called my local repair shop. He's backed up for at least 2 weeks. Lawn mowing services? Already over booked. Great. I can see it now, I'm going to be cutting my grass with shears.
Second great thing that happened to me within the last week? The Capt. was playing with the dog Friday night and found something on his ear. I glanced at it "Looks like a skintag". No biggie right? WRONG!! I got up this morning and took him out and Oh My GAWD! It is engorged with blood or puss or something. Race back in the house and yet another Oh My GAWD! It's a tick! A TICK! On my DOG! CALL 911!! Get an Ambulance!! Get the emergency Vet! Someone! Call Cesar Milan! Because it's my fault! I have been to busy (lazy) to go to the vets office to get his Revolution prescription. (Read here: ASSHOLE) I called my Vet's office, made an appointment for tonight to have the tick (OMG! A TICK) removed, and found a car mechanic who will look at my lawn mower (because ticks live in long grass, so again, my fault the dog has a tick because I haven't mowed, because I can't). So today I get to take my lunch, run home and stuff my lawn mower into my Ford Focus, drop it off at the mechanic, run back to work, work until 5:30, run back down to the mechanic and pick up my lawn mower (if he can fix it), run home and grab the tick dog race to the vets office, have it removed while they look at me disapprovingly for not taking better care of my dog, pay my million dollar bill for said dog, and race home and try and mow my yard in the dark. That says nothing for eating dinner, cleaning my house or doing laundry. My god, I think my brains might just melt out of my ears today.

___________________________________________________________

The TICK! It Fell OFF!

OMG! The Fat! It's taking over!

2006-10-20T09:13:00.000-05:00

So, ok in highschool (circa 1997) I weight 103lbs. Not bad right? But I didn't Drink, Eat more than 1 meal a day and walked everywhere because I had no car. I was a lean, mean thin machine. Then came college, and booze, and sleeping and doing nothing. The freshman 10? Yeah, more than that. Then, I bombed out of school (cuz of that whole not going to class thing) and The Capt. and I moved back to my home town. Maybe, in retrospect, not such a good idea. If you know anything about small towns you know there is never anything to do. Ever. Except for drink. So thats what I did. ALOT. It got to the point I could drink 20ish of a 30 pack a night. That took 5 good years of training to accomplish. What I didn't count on though is the fact while I was drinking away my misery I.BLEW.THE.FUCK.UP. I ended up a whopping 160lbs and in a size 13. Yes, I cried alot. Ten jeans sizes is enough to send you to the darkest pits of the blackest hell of depression. And so I drank more. Family vacation to Cancun? Yeah, not so much fun that year. Long story short, Fatty Mc Fatfat? Yep, that was me. Then, we finally decided to move out of Smallville and back to The Capt.'s hometown outside of Philly. Into his Parents house. For six months while I helped remodel the duplex his parents bought. Every day I went to work for 9 hours, ran home, ate and ran to the duplex to work until 9 or 10 at night. Work was not easy, I ran around carrying heavy shit, two 40 lb rotors and brakes and I was tired when I got home, but if I didn't finish the duplex I was NEVER moving out of the in-laws house. I didn't drink during the week, I was too tired, and I was too broke to buy soda so I drank water. And I didn't eat breakfast or lunch. The weight started to melt off. I got down to around 115lbs, which while not 103lbs, was WAY better than 160lbs! Say yay! Except I wasn't losing the weight the right way. Starving myself is not the right way to lose weight, right? Except it IS the easy way. It is way easier than, say, working out and eating small balanced meals. But I was THIN! AND PRETTY! AND HUNGRY! Now, it's been 2 years since we moved into the duplex and I am still thin(ish), and hungry. I am by nature a binge eater. When I am hungry? OMG! MOVE ALREADY! I NEED FOOD! And it's usually the most calorie laden, carbohydrated stuff I can get my hands on because my body is telling my brain to "eat! eat! eat! as much crap as you can to store up fat because she serously might never feed us again!" So as you may have guessed my body is now rebeling against me. I am getting fat again and I can not stop it unless, OMG! I work out and eat right. Which I am not so much into, because that's work and stuff. Or I just stop eating all together, which to my addled little brain sound way easier than doing it the right way. ( Not to mention then I would totally have to tell The Capt. he was right. Not so much into that either.) *sigh* I guess I'm going to have to diet and only eat chicken and tuna again, and maybe, while no one is home work out. But I'll never admit it. Because The Capt., he can't ever know he was right. EVER.

The world is rife with stupid people....

2006-10-16T10:20:00.000-05:00

Ah, I've been compiling data for this entry for awhile now. Stupidity is a prevailing trait in our society anymore. Read on and understand more.

Case 1.
Where I work we subcontract drivers to deliver parts. We had a girl, known here after as 'Beyonce', who delivered car parts in her 2005 BMW Kompressor. Being the smart thing she was she was delivering a part in a particularly enjoyable part of the city and she parked her BMW on the street and left it running with her 2 coach purses, 2 cell phones her credit cards and cash. Can we all guess what happened next? She came out of the shop and "OH.MY.GOD. MY CAR!! MYCARISGONE!!" She ran back into the shop crying someone stole her car and they preceded to laugh at her. I did too. I wouldn't leave my Focus running and unlocked down there let alone a BMW. The thief ran up $200 in gas on her credit card and threw all her stuff away. (Case 2 is involved in Case 1) The thief apparently thought he was sooooo good he'd never get caught with this stolen BMW, he stole someone else plates put all his own stuff in the car and drove around with it for 2 weeks before he got caught. 'Beyonce' did get her car back and a lesson was learned.

Never be complacent about you car and belongings. Someone could take them away from you at any time!

Case 3.
Yet another driver of mine, here after known as Abercrombie and Fitch, has a light blue 2006 Lincoln LS. He was in the habit of leaving his windows down and cell phone in his car in our parking lot. Well, one day last week we had a retail customer, something that almost never happens. She brought her 15 year old nephew. While she was in the store her nephew was wandering the parking lot apparently looking for goods to pilfer. Low and behold, "I spy with my little eye" A&F's car open and a nice new cell phone in the cupholder. He swiped that shit lickety split and together they rushed out of the parking lot. (Yet again Case 4 is involved with Case 3!)
Unbeknownst to the Aunty, a piece of very important paper fell out of her car between pilferage and lickety slpitage. This paper had her welfare information, name, work and home numbers and address! Our little A&F put on his super detective decoder ring and tracked this family down! It took some lying on his part but eventually convinced said pilfering family that he was a good Samaritan and simply wanted to return this very important paper (and non exsistant money's he'd convinced them had fallen out with this paper.) He drove to their home where he met with the Matriarch of the family, the grandmother to this pilfering teen. he then explained what had happened. Minute by minute the Matriarch got angrier and angrier, she called the pilfering teen and retrieved the stolen Cell phone. A&F got his cell phone back and learned the same lesson as "Beyonce'.

YOU NEED TO WATCH YOUR SHIT OR SOMEONE WILL TAKE IT FROM YOU!

So kiddies, I hope today's lessons have taught you something and be on the look out for Episode 2! Stupid People RULE THE WORLD!!!

I soooooo fucking told you so.

2006-10-11T18:36:00.000-05:00

And this is the only place I will be able to EVER say it. The Capt.? Yeah, his spirits are totally crushed right now. A little back story, you ask? Certainly! Six months ago The Capt. bought a 2003 Ford Ranger. Stick. No Air Conditioning. I wasn't a fan. A month ago The Capt. quit his retail job and took a factory job to get better hours. With a considerable pay cut. I was fine with that. I actually liked it. His Ju Jitsu training is more important, it's what he wants to do with his life. He wants to own a school and teach people mixed martial arts. And, he's good at it. So, anywhoo, a week after he starts his new factory job his old retail District Dick called him up, offered him a store (the one he wanted to begin with) and $38,500. A considerable raise even before the considerable pay cut. Being the manipulative little shit he is he asked for $42,000. In the end he got $40,000. Lets all take a moment and say WOOT!!!!. Yes ma'am I was friggin excited. That means I get to have heat this winter! So, the Capt. quit his factory job and went back to retail hell, but at least he's sorta kinda a little bit in charge. The Capt. promised himself a NEW (as in brand spankin') car of his choice. He decided he wanted a Jeep Wrangler. (For all of you who have ever taken a long trip in one of these fuckin haywagons I did fall to the floor screaming and writhing in pain screaming NNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!) He did all the research, found the JEEP he wanted, found a dealership and paid them a visit. We had decided we can afford around $330 a month and still put away money for a house (which is what I want). The Capt. goes to the dealership and is presented with a package that puts him at $450 a month. *Screaming hate fire from the eyes ensues* The salesman tells him they will only give him $2,000 as his trade in on the truck that we currently owe $8,000 on. Begin the crushing of spirits. They bantered for about 2 hours before The Capt. became so incensed he might have considered breaking appendages. Fast forward a bit to when I arrive home from my crappy job. When I walked into the house I was faces with a 29 year old 2 year old who didn't get the candy he wanted. The disappointment and hatred could be tasted in the air. So now I am living with pouting and upsetness. I understand. I do. But every time I open my mouth I have to snap it shut like a pittbull on a steak so the "I TOLD YOU NOT TO BUY THAT STUPID TRUCK" doesn't just tumble haphazardly out of my mouth. Cuz' seriously, he might cry.

Gahhh.. it COLD

2006-10-07T09:59:00.000-05:00

Fall has fallen upon us once again and all I can say is NNnnnoooooooo!!! Shit! Fuckin' damnit all to hell with the ever looming possablility of snow! It's not yet Halloween! Or Thanksgiving! Please please please can't it be at least 70 until Christmas? *Waaahhhhh* You see, from approximately August 31 until July 4th I am cold. Not chilly, not lets go get a sweater, all out balls to the wall 'could someone please set me on fire because I think my blood has frost bite' cold. My hands swell and shrink, turn many lovely shades of pale translucent and blue, sometimes a nice violet too. I can tell you the exact minute it will rain/hail/sleet/snow/drop a degree because my hands stop functioning and turn into little crippled balls of hate on the end of my wrists. I think I am destined for a lovely debilitating arthritis as I continue to age. Won't that be swell? And to all of you who thing we need the Air Conditioning turned down to 54 in the summer, I hope freeze to death. When I have to bring 3 extra articles of clothing to work so I don't bite my own tongue off chattering and shivering because it's 54 degrees in here, IT'S TOO COLD. I don't understand, we live in Pennsylvania. We have snow 75% of the year. WHY can't you people enjoy the heat while it's here? The fond memories of sitting at home sweating during the summer months is what keeps me from trying to skin you and make a coat from your scalps during the winter.

Ah, fuck, I'm turning the heat up.

Past v. Present, The Homecoming

2006-10-02T09:09:00.000-05:00

Well kids, it's been hard to find something funny, or entertaining to write about since Frank. Although his funeral service was lovely. There were so many people there it was standing room only. On the upside, I got to go home and see my family this past weekend and both my sisters (and 1 soon to be brother in law) managed to make it up too. This only happens once in a blue moon. Not even on holidays can we all manage to make it home at the same time. I never imagined as I was growing up that it'd be so hard to get everyone together at the same time, but I never knew the familial obligations that would be put on me when I got married. I totally blocked out the idea that there would be another family that would want THEIR child at home for the holidays too, and in my case there are two sets of In-Laws to cater too. And now, my sister is getting married so now she'll have extra people to cater too! It was a great weekend though. We sat around and drank beer, and told horrible jokes (does anyone else's family in the world talk about peoples Uteruses falling out I wonder?), reminisced about when we were kids, and visited with family and friends. I annoyed the shit out of my family taking pictures of their eye-balls, (yes, I am currently obsessed with eye-ball pictures). My uncle, Walker, Texas Ranger, stopped over with his kid and visited for a while. All in all it was a great weekend, All-be-it friggin cold! The trees have started to change and it's just beautiful up there. Going home sometimes feels like going back in time, the smell of wood smoke and burning leaves takes me back to when I was a kid walking home with my sisters after school. It was a flash back weekend for me. What triggers your memories from childhood?

Our Friend Frank.

2006-09-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

Frank had a good heart, a happy demenor and a smile for everyone. Frank loves people, he even ministered in Bazil. Frank was a conservative guy who knew how to agree to disagree. He was a regular at our house for Saturday Night Fight Night, and would bring Pizza and Budwiser (which he would leave in the cooler and drink my beer). Frank would help anyone who needed help. Except himself. Frank decided he could no longer go on with his life. Frank was found dead in his garage, victim of a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. We miss you Frank. Rest in the Peace of Gods light you could not find here on earth.

Everyone, Meet the Professor.

2006-09-18T08:21:00.000-05:00

I want everyone to meet the Professor. Sometimes a talkaholic, others entertaining, always drinking. Last night he was the prefect level of drunk to be hysterical. I'm not going to give you the whole story because I know I couldn't reproduce it in it's entirety, nor with any semblance of the entertainment value of the things that came out of his mouth. So, I'll give you the highlights.

Discussion about Jeff Buckley:
Prof: "Oh, yeah, I saw him once. There were about 8 people there. Once I stopped talking and actually listened, he was good. He was the best Faggot Angel."

Story about family members:
Prof: " Oh yeah, So, ok, Ultra Fag stole my brothers truck. So we're all down the city with like a high school year book photo going to all these Gay bars looking for Ultra Fag. So, I'm in this queer bar and there's this guy behind the bar wearing a SPEEDO, and I'm like "Have you seen this guy?" and he says "Yeah, he's giving blow jobs on 22nd street". So we head down that way and stop and talk to a cop. "You seen this guy? Is he a prostitute?" holding up the year book photo of Ultra Fag. "Yeah, yeah, I've seen him. I think he was a prostitute but he's cleaned up his act I think. Got himself a brand new truck" So as we interview a few other people, there goes Ultra Fag in the truck, so we give chase. And we notice both the sides of the truck are smashed in, the windshield is smashed, both door windows are smashed, and the rear window is smashed. My brother is screaming out the window "PULL THE FUCK OVER!!! PULL THE TRUCK THE MUTHERFUCK OVER!!!" So Ultra Fag smashes into one of those metal poles filled with concrete. He jumps out of the truck and runs and we notice a 450lb person, you know the kind you can't tell whether it's a girl or guy, wobbling like an overturned turtle trying to get out of the truck because the seat is broken and lays almost all the way back. Yeah, now here's where the midget comes into play. Yes, I said midget. This little guy scampers out the rear window trying to make his midget getaway."

Now, at this point I can't hear anymore of the story because we are all in tears laughing. Just wait, there will be shirts available sayin'

Makin' a Midget Getaway

My ceiling only leaks when it rains....

2006-09-15T07:49:00.000-05:00

My Ceiling leaks when it rains. Cuz there's a hole in my roof. But my landlords aren't going to fix it because it only leaks when it rains. UUUuuuuuhhhh huh. Ok. That's like saying 'That stinks, smell it'..... or 'That's hot, I just burned my index finger, you touch it and see if it's hot'. S.M.R.T. I should have had the bucket under the place where it drips, but I didn't. I had my sneaker under the drip. I put one shoe on this morning as I get ready to come to my place of business, I go to properly install the second on my foot, and its so wet IT drips. At which point I believe my head spun around and I may or may not have been possessed by Satan. Cuz', you know, it only leaks when it rains.

It's official. I'm 'Not Nice'.

2006-09-13T07:16:00.000-05:00

Sunday I decided to get my little ladder and paint out of the spare bedroom and do a little touch up in the living room. No biggie, I painted for an hour maybe. Of course I didn't collect all my stuff back up and put it away for many hours. Then Monday I went a did a little grocery shopping, banking and picked up my house. Ya know, just puttering. Tuesday I cooked a pot of beef stew, did some more laundry and puttering.

This morning Capt. Ass-Kicker says to me have you seen the cat? I must have had the Duuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr look on my face because he just walked away. When I came back in from taking the dog out The Capt. is headed down the hallway, yeah, you guessed it. He opened the spare bedroom door and out comes a cat rocket. The look my husband gave me! He was wishin me dead. I had no idea the cat had gotten herself locked in there. Usually if she gets stuck, and it happens a lot (she's what'd I'd call slow), I can hear her Meow for help. Even from the basement I can hear her. So I'm chalking this up to an unsuccessful suicide attempt. "It's not MY fault Your Cat is Suicidal"

OH! And Congratulations to my Youngest Sister. She just found out she passed all her classes and gets to Graduate the Pittsburgh Art Institute!

Is this reality?

2006-09-11T18:49:00.000-05:00

I get home from work and sit down to eat my dinner and watch a little TV before I start trying to pick up the house and do the stuff that needs to be done. As I sit here watching TV it occurs to me Television was invented to take us away from reality and give us the news right? Shows like Leave it to Beaver and The Dukes of Hazard, they were designed to entertain us. When did it become acceptable to put "Reality TV" on our televisions? At first it was real reality. The random houses where they'd throw people together or strand them on an island and watch as havoc ensues. Then, suddenly it's spoof shows. That silly Ted Nugent show, Celebrity Fit Club, The Real World, and for the love of God, FLAVA FLLLLLAAAAAVVVVVVEEEE! I am so tired of seeing Child actors and washed up stars trying to re-create their poor sad careers on the worthless trite shows.

It offends me to the very core of my being. It's like a documentary gone wrong. I like documentaries, and I like entertaining shows, but please for the love of all that is good and holy take this non-reality crap off my friggin TV! I guess I shouldn't bitch to much. I try to limit my TV intake. And it does seem to be what the people want. I guess I just don't get watching fat ex-celebrities work out while I sit on my couch eating doritos getting fat.

Ok, Ok... I know....

2006-09-07T14:45:00.000-05:00

Sorry kiddies. I have been close to dying for almost a friggin week now due to RSM's kids cold, yes, I'm blaming her, and stress from in-law visits. Not to mention I killed my immune system and kindneys with beer. All I have wanted to do is sleep. So I have no real good stories for ya. Capt. Ass-kicker started his new job on Tuesday and all he has to say about it is "Now I work for a living." No more Cushy retail shit for him. Me, I'm same old same old. Drooling on my keyboard all day waiting for payday. Except I am totally and completely annoyed this week. I forgot how annoying people can be when you are sick. I don't want to answer the phone, I don't want to talk to them and most of all I DON'T want to be "Verbally Groped" by them this week.

Top Ten Lines This Week

10. I'll never leave you alone...... (heavy breathing)

9. Aww, are you sick? Lets go home and I'll tuck you in...

8. You should let me give you an alcohol rub...

7. Do you need a full body massage? I'm free...

6. I'll bring you some chicken soup and we can cuddle up...

5. If you leave your husband I'll buy you a Vette...

4. What are you wearing???

3. UUuuuhhhhmmm, what nationality are you? (my name has a certain ethnic feel when mispronounced)

2. You husband, he prolly cheetin' on you. You shod check his cell phone. You wanna go out?

And the number one line of the week.....

1. Hey, you and your husband are the same age as my wife and me. You guys swing? We could all go out to dinner sometime and "Hang out" ya know.....

Yeah, my job ROCKS sometimes.....

What the fuck is wrong with me?

2006-09-03T15:04:00.000-05:00

I must be the cruelest bitch ever. I don't have a fucking clue what is wrong with me. My Brother in laws are in town for vacation. It suposed to be fun, right? I like my in-laws. I have fun with them. So why is it I turn into an 'uber Cunt whenever they show up? My poor hubby, I have been treating him so badly. He told me today I have been a "snapping cunt" the past couple of days, and I have. And I don't know how to stop. I know there is a 'root of the problem' somewhere. I kinda sorta think I maybe might know what it is. Whenever they come out we have to go out and see all these people I don't know, and do all this crap outside my comfort zone. And I don't like it. I feel like an outsider. I am not pretty enough, cool enough, in-the-crowd enough. I feel fat. And ugly. And unwanted. And that makes me fight back the only way I know how. I turn mean, like a rabid dog. Throw in beer and I can't seem to shut my mouth from all the cruel things that want to come out. I don't wear make up. I don't Do my hair. I don't dress fashionably. And that makes me feel Less. Less than everyone else. I see all these people our age who have good jobs, and homes, and it makes me feel less. I can't DO all this. I can't be that girl. I never have been that girl. I don't know how to be that girl. I can't lose weight, I drink to much, and I smoke to much. (So yeah, thats a cycle I'm sure) I get depressed because I feel fat, so I sit on the couch and drink and smoke, which in turn makes me fatter. I am uncomfortable in my body. I have no ambition to work out, I don't know how which makes me embarassed to ask someone to show me, which makes me want to drink and smoke. Which in turn makes me fat, and uncomfortable and not want to have sex. Ever. I know there are thing wrong with me. Lots and lots of things. But I don't know what to do. Some days I can't even get up enough energy to do the dishes or wash. I just don't want to. I want to change, but change takes effort and I just don't know if I have it in me. And yea, theres a lot of fear in there too. And my poor husband takes the brunt of this madness in my head. So to him I say I am sorry.

Yeah dudes, I'm a friggin dork

2006-09-01T22:09:00.000-05:00

Just so ya know, I must be hot to be a Betty Grable! Just Sayin'. (Yeah, totoally swiped it from RSM)

You are Betty Grable

The ulitmate girl next door
You're the perfect girl for most guys
Pretty yet approachable. Beautiful yet real.

What Famous Pinup Are You?

Teen years? Fuck yeah I was angry!

2006-08-30T20:07:00.000-05:00

Angry? Yeah, so you know what? FUCK YEAH I was an angry teen. Who wasn't? I hated Every. Fucking. Thing. I wasn't popular (yeah, shut up!) , I was "prego's" more times than I can account for (considering I didn't have sex in HS), and Oh my God please could the boys like me even just a little?? In the sexy way?? Not just the way that I will play intramural soccer with them???? Please? I wasn't a nerd, I wasn't popular, I was nothing, a floater, except I wasn't invited to parties, cuz I wasn't allowed to go anyway. I grew up with rules. God forbid! AND I was afraid of the consequences. Truly afraid. Would you like to know who I was afraid of? Yeah, no, don't guess. Not my dad. Mother. I thought my Mother was the meanest, cruelest, psycho bitch in the universe. Why did I think she was crazy? Because I wasn't allowed to run Willy-Nilly. I soooooooooooooooooooooooo wanted to be one of the cool kids, but that required parents who didn't give a Fuck. At all. Evah. Yeah, My teen years were rough, for me and mom. I am the Oldest. I think that grants me certain rights for being the cause of gray hair and screaming. I wasn't a good kid. I tried to be, I always thought I was doing the right thing, well almost anyway. (Shut up assholes who know me, don't ruin my story! I can think I was a golden child if I want!) I was friends with criminals, they were small time dammit, and I thought in my teen angsty, dorky, lifetime movie/WE TV kinda way they were just acting out. They just wanted to be loved. To know there were people who cared. And I thought I could fix it. Mom, of course, knew better. And I didn't like it. At All. Ever. Yeah, I spent most of my time grounded. Cuz I was good like that.
I managed to graduate High School, without getting pregnant, and went to college. yeah, I totally managed to fuck that up too. All I got out of college was an M.R.S. degree. Because I suck. And I was to lazy (and hung the-fuck-over/stoned) to actually attend class. Finally, I decided wasting mom's money wasn't getting me anywhere and quit. And I moved home. And mom supported me. And loved me. And even in my pre-teen/college drop out/dumb ass way I could still piss that woman off. But ya know what? I LOVE my mom. We are best friends now. I love the fact that she put rules and regulations in my life and didn't just let me run rampant and do something stupid and ruin my life. And while I say with all certainty, I can't live in the same house as her and I know damn well she can't live in the same house with me, I love my mom.

p.s. Yeah, and fuck off, my sisters WERE perfect. So shut up. I think I was the test baby.

Times Past and Kids Today

2006-08-29T08:45:00.000-05:00

Opinion time! My experience with *most* parents today leads me to believe children are ignored. Too many days have I been in stores and seen a parent with their child running wild, or screaming, or begging for attention and the parent, with cell phone glued to the head, ignore them. Or give in to whatever it is they want. Chips, candy, ice cream, that new toy, whatever. What is it with these parents?? When did No cease to be No? I was in the Lowes and there's a little girl crying for her mom, so I helped her find her mom. The mother says to me "She was FINE, I could hear her" and stomps away. I was left with the feeling commonly known as 'What the Fuck?'. As I finish my shopping I can hear this little girl asking her mom "Where'd that nice lady go?". As I round the corner I come face to face with Crazy Mommy glaring at me. "She won't stay with me now because she wants to find you and thank you." This woman was pissed that I stopped to help her child. And that her child had the common courtesy enough to want to Thank me for it.

The other side of that coin is that kids don't get to be kids anymore. We have to protect them from the crazies so they can't run rampant in the neighborhood playing with other kids anymore. There's no more "just be home before dark". Kids are regulated minute by minute. School activities and sports, 37 for each season so kids stay out of trouble and off the streets and guarded by adults at all times. I understand the fear. Living in Philly I hear about kids getting shot in school yards by other kids everyday. Those dirty rotten mutherfuckers who just wanna touch these kids in the no-no spots. For all the things we didn't have when I was growing up sometimes ya gotta wonder, was it better then?

Oh the Myspace Horror!!!

2006-08-26T18:24:00.000-05:00

Ok, so apparently, the MySpace freaks LOVE me! Cuz I'm SSSSSooooooooo open minded!
Everyone: Meet David.

David

Date:
Aug 26, 2006 1:57 PM Subject:
Hey Whatsup!!?
Body:
Hey whatsup!? I found your profile and you seem very cool and open minded, anyways, i was just wonderin if you wanted to be my friend... this is a private profile. click the link below and add me there.
Thanks... I would love to be your friend!!!

and you should definately check out the number 1 most crazy ebay item in america... seriously make sure you do! I think it's a private auction, so you must have an ebay account to see it!!! click the link below to login, and tell me what you think!

Mutherfuckin post office

2006-08-25T09:47:00.000-05:00

Nearly everyday when I get home I have to re-deliver my neighbors mail. Which is ok, not too bad. I don't mind, I even like my neighbors so its a chance to say hi and pet their dog. I even understand that we don't have a set person to deliver our mail, it's a rotational route, so mistakes happen. But, when I don't get my bills, and I miss a car payment because someone else gets my mail,with my personal information, and I incure finance charges and damage to MY credit rating, I get a little irate. Just a wee bit. And let me say this. If I suffer Identity Theft becasue some fucktard signs me up for a credit card and maxes it out, someone might die. Slowly and painfully. Yes, I will go "Postal" to use the proper term. So I sent out a cutsey, nicey-nice complaint letter.
Here it is.

"I have had a problem getting my mail because there is no set carrier for my route. I have to deliver my neighbors mail, and they bring mine over also. I missed a car payment because some one else got my bill and I never recieved it. It's not only my neighbors mail, but the wrong streets, incorrect addresses, incorrect names. I don't enjoy paying late fees and my credit rating being affected by incompitent carriers. I would like a perminant carrier put on my route please and thank you."

When I hit the submit button they said it might take a few days to get back to me. I'll keep you updated.

**The update**

The "filed" the complaint. Someone will contact me on thier next business day.

Happy Happy, Joy Joy.

Opiates and entertainment..

2006-08-25T08:42:00.000-05:00

We're down the pub last night and one of our friends, The Professor, says "what's that smell?" Immediately my brain screams *OHMYGOD I SMELL! YOU JUST WASHED THE DOG AND CAME OUT TO THE BAR AND DID YOU REMEMBER TO USE DEODORANT THIS MORNING?????? CRAWL UNDER THE BAR!!! HIDE!* But I try to be nonchalant about it, "dog shampoo??" I ask.
"no...." Says The Professor with a discerning look upon his rectangular head
"tooth paste? I did just brush my teeth...."
"no.... maybe its a combination of the two. It smells like Opium."

Ok, hold the fuck up. My dog shampoo and toothpaste makes me smell like a hardcore drug addict from the 1850's who is chasing the dragon?? G.R.E.A.T. And, not to pass up this opportunity, but whyyyyy does The Professor know what opium smells like????

I probably should have gone home then. But, lil'miss-smarty-pants me stayed. I got to hear The Professor give a moving lecture on how children "Can't even be children anymore because they are over scheduled". Stimulating I know. I watched a couple of Abercrombie and Fitch brothers play plastic darts and nearly got impaled as they ricocheted around the room. And that was about it. My life is soooo interesting.

Undies Encore

2006-08-24T11:49:00.000-05:00

For the last two wendsdays I've gotten caught by my In-Laws walking around my house in my undies. Ya know, cuz just once wasn't enough. So, last night, it seemed a first rate idea to keep my pants on. And maybe even do the dishes in the sink so they don't think I'm a complete and utter pig who can't keep a house clean. Ya, you've probably guessed it by now. They never showed. Because I kept my cloths on. I must be right about the radar. Or video cameras. Something! Because, I swear, NO ONE has timing like that on accident!

Or maybe sweet baby Jebus just hates me......

Sooo...Uuuhhhhmmm... I think I'm in trouble.

2006-08-23T12:49:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I think I screwed up........ again. Capt. Ass-Kicker needs to get his passport and I'm thinkin' I might have lost his birth certificate. Don't ask because I don't know how I did it. I put it in the lock box with mine 3 years ago after our trip to cancun and 2 years ago when I got mine out to get my passport his was there. And mine still is...... I went to get his out this morning and guess the fuck what? I can't find it. Maybe it's because it was before 7:30 in the morning, or the fact I drank retarded amounts of beer last night, but I just didn't see it anywhere. Ok, panic now starts to seep into my brain. I have been screaming at him to get this done for a month now, and now it's going to be my fault it's not done because I "can't hold on to a simple piece of fucking paper". I left him a note this morning leaving him a list of crap to do today with a nice little P.S. 'you can't get your passport today until I find your birth certificate', with no mention of it might just be/maybe/possibly/could be lost. Thank GOD he didn't draw that conclusion until I have had some more time to look for it or super secretly order a duplicate online.

Yeah guys, I am totally getting my ass whupped.

HA! I freakin win!

2006-08-22T18:16:00.000-05:00

Nahhh na nah na nahhhhh na! The great God's of HTML have let me win, just this once and I figured out how to move my stupid add column back where it belongs. Now if I could just figure out how to make a right side margin, and those cutesy little boxes to put pics and lists and shit in I'd be good. But for now, I'm not.

Ahhh ha!!! dude, I fuckin rock this shiznit yo!

2006-08-21T18:16:00.000-05:00

So, not only did Capt. Ass-kicker get his new job, and my mom get her new job I totally got an F'in raise! Can we all say 'hell to the yeahhhhh' please and thank you very fuckin' much. I work in the crappiest industry ever, nooooooo, not coal mining, car parts. Yeah, I am totally that girl. Not only am I the only girl, I do most of the work.......cuz' I'm the girl. Why is it women have to work twice as hard as every one else???? Fuckers...... With Peni.... I spend my days fending off slimy little grease monkeys with hard-ons whilst trying desperately to do my JOB. It's amazing I get anything done between the guys saying things like "You're married? He's probly cheating on you." and "OOOoooohhhhwwwww.... I love the sound of that voice in the morning. I'll give you a '67 Vette if you leave your husband". Most of these guys have never even seen me! I could be 900lbs and have a unibrow and they still hit on me. All I have to say is what the fuckin' fuck???? My most recent slimy-ness is a guy who asked if Capt. Ass-Kicker and I "swing" and do we want to go out some time? "Ya know, we could swap......" Ok, hang on, I gotta go barf. MMmmmm Hhhhmmm... My job rocks! But I got a raise. Thank God, if I don't make more money soon I might have to sell Ovum to pay the heat bill this winter. It's kinda like selling kids right? I'm horrible, I know. Anyway, the point of this (Yeah, I have those occasionally) is lets all party it up, I got a raise!!! Goooooo me!

And just to let everyone know, something is wrong with my stupid fucking HTML for my adds, it sayyyyyys align left, but it is aligning right. I don't know why. and the other thing on the bottom of my page lost its http:// somewhere. Damn.......

Ahhh... weekends....

2006-08-20T10:15:00.000-05:00

Just so everyone knows, there has been an update on Mr. Shoe-less. Apparently, he wasn't running a scam, he was just stupid. He tried to insert his card in the receipt slot instead of the slidey thing-a-majig. So yes. The machine ate his card. Because he was Stupid. And drunk.

Yeah, I know. I have been lackadaisical about posting. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't have any funny shit to tell you. Because I don't do anything. Let me tell you what I did this weekend. Friday after work I went shopping. No, not the fun kind. Grocery shopping. The bane of my existence. Never in all my life have I been enclosed in a building with a group of ruder people! First, to Aldi's. Because I'm cheap. There must have been 900 people in this building and one cashier. Yeah, I left my cart and walked out, forfeiting my quarter.
Next stop Target. Again, because I'm cheap. It's like a slalom course of people and children in there. Then when you get to the register you have to deal with the cashiers chatting with each other, talking on the phone, chatting with the managers and forgetting all about the customer who is now simmering in a red boiling vat of hatred and rage. Haven't you people ever heard of MULTITASKING!! And to make it worse my particular cashier had OCD. Mt total was $70.85, I gave him $75. Three twenties a ten and a five. He counted it THREE TIMES, before putting it in the register and getting my change. Four dollars and fifteen cents. Again, counting it THREE TIMES, dollars three times, change three times. I don't know what screwed him up so much, maybe saying "Sebentyeightyfiv" got him thinking $78, I don't know. What I do know is that by the time I got out of there I wanted to remove his heart with a dull wooden spoon.
Then on to two grocery stores where people milled about aimlessly parking their carts at odd angles and bickering over sale prices. One would think the old people with nothing better to do could go shopping during the middle of the week, but I MUST be wrong. All the good shopping only happens at 6:30 every other Friday night. By now, you can imagine, a beer is in order.
Saturday I weed wacked for what seemed like hours, fought the good fight and chopped back my trumpet vines (maniacal fuckers), cleaned the cat litter pan, painted the spare bedroom ceiling, twice, vacuumed and fell asleep on the couch.
And today my big plan was to do the dishes, make some cookies, blog, go to Barnes and Noble and maybe go swimming at my inlaws. Underwear properly covered. Man, am I living it up huh?

Uuuuhhmm, yeah......

2006-08-16T18:21:00.000-05:00

My husband, hence forth known as Capt. Ass-Kicker, got a new job yesterday. Everyone say YAY. To celebrate we went down to our local pub with a couple friends. What you have to understand about 'our' bar is its just that. A bar. Not a dance club. The music's never so loud you can't talk, the foods good old fashioned bar food, and it's a workers bar. Dirty painters, tree guys, and mechanics frequent this fine establishment. And its fun. Usually.
Last night as we walked in there were the usual guys. With one exception. This guy. He's not a regular. No big deal right? Suuuuurrrreee....... We take our stools at the bar and hang out for about 20 minutes. I'm a people watcher so I notice Mr. Mullet go to the ATM. With no shoes on. That folks is class. I giggled a bit and continued to watch. Dude looks over the ATM and it's not an old fashioned take your card and give it back when your done' kind, it's the new-fangled slider kind. He slides his card in and pockets it, continuing to push buttons the whole time. He turns back, swaggers back to his barstool where his equally shoeless girlfriend waits with there 2 cheese steaks, plastic container of gaspatcho (which she has been munching on) and 3 six packs of Corona. He lights a smoke, and drunkenly waives our nice little blond bartender over. Now I am straiiiiining to hear the conversation.

"Hey. Your Machine ate my card. Won't give me any cash, lady" Mr. Shoeless says...

"Uuuhhhmm... OK. lets go have a look." Ms. Little blond bartender.....

*Swaggering occurs*

*Looking over the machine* "There's no way this machine could have eaten your card" Ms. Little blond bartender

Naturally, there's the table of young cocky buggers at a table, and as he passes between them and us I hear "Nice shirt dude..."

Damn.....

He turns, ready for a fight, and they start chatting him up. No biggy, just some makin' fun of the drunk guy right? Yeah, that's what I thought too. Enter the little girlfriend. Wow. Cute, but stupid. They are standing at the table and he starts man handling her, twisting her arms behind her back and I hear her utter the phrase

"Yeah, he likes to keep me barefoot, hee hee hee!"

Ok, well, if she's happy..... So he continues to manhandle her and all the sudden I have the sharp end of an elbow penetrating my spinal column. Repeat performance, and again. Yeah, by now I am not happy. ( I.E. I turn and say "WHAT THE FUCK???) Finally Ms. Shoeless bounces out the door, Mr. Shoeless argues with Ms. Little blond bartender, who by now has figured out it was a scam, and he exits the bar, sans beer and food yelling all the way

"Don't worry sweetie, You ain't gonna get beat for this...."

So, Mr. and Ms. Shoeless have drank for a hour and had gaspatcho for free... Never to be heard from again.

The end

Just so everyone knows, my In-laws caught me in my undies again tonight. Yeah, it rocks.

My uncle, Walker, Texas Ranger

2006-08-14T18:18:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone, meet my Uncle. Also known as Walker, Texas Ranger. And his wife Mary. My uncle has always looked a bit like Chuck Norris. Of whom, you should always fear. When I was a kid I idolized Chuck. So, yeah, I totally rocked the idea that I was related to a Chuck Norris Look-a-like. He might just kick your ass dude. He was the toughest guy I knew while I was growing up, mostly due to, uuumm... Duh.... Chuck Norris. So, without further ado...

Guns don't kill people.

Chuck Norris kills People.

There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is Pain.

There is no chin under Chuck Norris' Beard. There is only another fist.

Chuck Norris has two speeds. Walk, and Kill.

The leading causes of death in the United States are: 1. Heart Disease 2. Chuck Norris 3. Cancer.

Chuck Norris drives an ice cream truck covered in human skulls

Chuck Norris is my Homeboy

Chuck Norris doesn't go hunting.... CHUCK NORRIS GOES KILLING

Hittin' people with stuff? Hell Yeah!

2006-08-12T16:42:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, many many years ago when I was a child, I leaned toward hitting people with stuff. Yep. I was a hitter. And not even because I meant to. I don't even get to have that. I was, for a lack of a better word, clumsy. Not so much that I'd fall down a lot, OOooohhhh no. 'Cuz I'd do stupid shit. Yep, Here's my sign. My bestest friend growing up was the boy next door.

We were the same age, and had more fun than any child should ever have. But...... there were consequences. Nearly every summer he hit me in the face with a wiffle ball bat and I'd pass out. Yeah, I know, I was a fainter. Now, he didn't mean to do it. We were kids playing hard. Wiffle ball, hide and go seek, "Bloody Murder" (an evening version of hide-and-go-seek) , lets throw rocks at each other. What can I say? We were kids growing up in a town with nothing to do, we found our own fun. So anyway, back to my tail of woe.
We were battling. I had a metal snow shovel circa 1909 and he had a dirt shovel. For some ungodly reason we thought it a phenomenal idea to use them as swords.... (can you see where I'm going here?). Slash..... BANG.......... clang.... the fight was on..... Suddenly he missed a blocking maneuver I expected him to make. *SMACK* The sickly wet sound of a flat aluminum shovel meeting the side of a 10 year old boys face.... *fade to black*
I think I stood there SCREAMING until someone came to see what was wrong. I knocked that mutha out, yo. I wasn't in trouble, although I was sure I was, and he recovered, albeit bruised. And we continued on with our games of hurting each other, even when we didn't mean too.
And this trend followed me through my life. Yeah, I was totally a bully. I beat up anyone. I intimidated like it was my job. I wasn't well liked. I spent my childhood with a bullies nickname, (and I Reveled in it), my pre-teen years kickin poor boys in the balls for irritating me ( and I had deadly aim), and my teen years crying 'cuz no one liiiiiikkeeeeeed me..... *sniff sniff* After I got my first apartments I smacked a possum with a shovel, he was in my trash. And my coup de grace, I hit a Skunk with a trowel. What can I say, I had been drinking, it was dark and all I could see was the white stripe poking out of my trash bag. My god, I smelled skunk for DAYS even though I didn't get sprayed. *The mist sticks to the hairs in your nose and somehow permeates your brain.* At the local bar some drunkard tried to take out my husband and I hit him with my Genesse bottle. Yeah, lets all say it together, I have class.....

I have a distinct hate for this foreign language called HTML...

2006-08-11T09:47:00.000-05:00

So, I can't figure out how to post a link in my sidebar to my flickr crap. I like the way Dooce has hers set up, but I'm more than certain she has a far vaster knowledge of HTML than poor old me. If anyone knows how to do that I'd be particularly grateful. You may even save me from screaming incessantly and bashing my very own pink head through the monitor.