Wednesday, January 31, 2007

its beginning to look a lot like winter

Holy hell. One month gone already and I still haven't written down my goals for 2007.

Speaking of goals, I've come up with an ingenius plan to make lots of money quickly. I can't reveal the specifics, but I can tell you it involves
the words "I bid $1201, Bob!"

Old Man Winter has finally decided to break out of his ennui and do something. It was a lovely 4° here this morning. It suppposed to be clear today but we have a total of about 12 inches of snow on the ground now with more coming Thursday into Friday.
I shagged two nights of overtime from Overtime Hawg--eat it, bitch!--so I have to work 33 hours, then off for 15 then back for another 24.
It was rather nice not having to drive home in that snowing, blowing mess last night.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

ain't no cure for the wintertime blues

Jay sends this funny....

One winter morning a couple was listening to the radio over
breakfast.They heard the announcer say, "We are going to have 8 to 10
inches of snow today. You must park your car on the even-numbered side
of the street, so the snowplows can get through."

Norm's wife goes out and moves her car.

A week later while they are eating breakfast again, the radio announcer
says, "We are expecting 10 to 12 inches of snow today. You must park
your car on the odd-numbered side of the street, so the snowplows can
get through."

Norm's wife goes out and moves her car again.

The next week they are again having breakfast, when the radio announcer
says, "We are expecting 12 to 14 inches of snow today. You must

Then the power went out.

Norm's wife is very upset, and with a worried look on her face she
says,"Honey, I don't know what to do. Which side of the street do I
to park on so the snowplows can get through?"

With the love and understanding in his voice that all men who are
married to blondes exhibit, Norman says.. "Why don't you just leave it
in the garage, this time?"

the only way to get with me is if you have a felony

My favorite quote: "There is a destiny
That makes us brothers.
None goes his way alone.
All that we send into the lives of others,
Comes back into our own."
Edwin Markham

You know how those freaking GEICO caveman commercials annoy the piss out of me?
Have you noticed in the commercial where they're partying, there are NO caveWOMEN in attendance?
It's them and a bunch of modern day chicks.
You know what I think? I think the cavemen
are not only stupid, but they're predjuiced against their own kind!
That's right. They're guilty of the very same thing they accuse GEICO of!
Yeah, they probably separate the whites from the coloreds when they do laundry, too.

I saw a commercial for Lysol (I think) today that began, "You would never let your child eat off the street..."
Once again. Advice too little, too late.

I'm still getting used to this new bra. Every time I glance down, I think, "Whoa! What are you girls doing all the way up here?!"

I was curled up on the couch watching a cartoon with Male Offspring #8 yesterday.
In one part of the 'toon, a cartoon duck was building a snowman. That got me to thinking.
Why would a duck build a snowman? Oh, I could see a cartoon polar bear or a cartoon turtle, even.
The fact that it would take him so long that the snow would be melted would be hilarious. But a cartoon duck? No way.
I don't even think they like the cold.

Monday, January 29, 2007

awwwww, no:(

Barbaro had to be euthanized....sigh. Now he can run free once more....

climbing into bed with me

I do not understand kids these days. I spent the better part of 45 minutes last night
trying to convince Female Offspring #2 to attend a free bridal showcase for brides to be and their moms.
I pointed out that they would have different dress designs to look at, free samples of wedding cakes and cookies,
bridal consultants on hand to chat, and she could even register to win a spa vacation. But she refused.
Finally, I yelled, "I am trying to spend time with you! What is your problem?!"
Fine. Be that way. I'll stay home and drown my sorrows in a bowl of white cake batter.
SalmOnella be damned. Nobody loves me anyway...whaaaaaaaaaaaa!

I had to lay in the snow for fifteen minutes last night, but it was sooooo worth it in the end. I got at least four good
snowball shots at Booger McSnotty, the kid who sold me the crappy chocolate bars with so called almonds the Saturday before last.
When I was out letting Holly walk me, I saw him going up the street.
I chained Holly and lay in wait, knowing that what goes up must come down.
When he came past the trailer, I hit him with a volley of snowballs until he started screaming that I was trying to murder him. Oh, for Pete's sake.
Seven year olds and their drama.

OMG. I just realized we get the Fox Reality Channel now. MORE COPS *and* Real Stories of the Highway Patrol!!
Wheeeeeeeee! Now here's the kicker: I've hardly watched the damn tv since we
had Direct TV installed. I was sick last week, so I was in bed several nights by 9 p.m.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

i want my old life back

Awwww, special thanks to Mushy for taking this picture of Moose Be Christmas for me when he was in Wyoming! I loves me moose!

Mushy has GORGEOUS snowy pics of the Teton Pass on his site from his latest trip.
Check 'em out!

To TPTB: stop mucking up my Top Forty countdown with your countrified Rascal Flatts songs!!
They are not Top Forty Material.
It's bad enough that you muck it up with Ryan Sechrest...

There's an article on MSN called "Outearn Your Man? Here's How to Cope." COPE?!
Hell, my man would be over the moon if I made more money than he did.
Here's my article on how to "cope" with this issue: Put aside your ego and be grateful somebody is
making money in the relationship, ya big dumb jackass.
Yet another shining example of why my "articles" never sell. Sigh.

There's a thought provoking billboard that I pass on the way to work every morning.
It shows a young girl with a bruised face and the message reads, "Love doesn't have to hurt."

Crying profusely seems to help you get out of a ticket?
Puhleeze. Even I do the eye roll thing when the water works start on COPS.
Besides, cops just assume you're either a wacko or PMS'ing.

Oooo, forgot to mention this bit of dish from the Enquirer: apparently sometime during the Rosie/Trump spat,
Barbara Walters told Donald that Rosie wouldn't be on the show for long and that working with her was like "living in hell."
When confronted about it, Barbara denied it. So they did a poll in the paper and 75% said they believe
Donald is telling the truth and Barbara is lying. I believe him, too. He's an ass, but I highly doubt
he'd publicly lie about something like that after saying that he and Barbara were good friends. Now I'm
reading, though, that Rosie might be leaving The View anyway for her own talk show. Hmm, didn't she end her show in '02?

Another strong episode of Men In Trees this week. I'm loving the "Supervisor Dick" romance with Sheriff Celia.
But, and I know this will surprise a lot of you, I am NOT a fan of bedhopping. There. I said it.
This is just the first season of the show, but already Ben, whose wife decided she didn't
want to be married to him anymore, took up with Sara. When Sara left to think things through,
Ben got back together with his wife again. Jack's old gf Annie left him and he took up with
Anne Heche's character. Then his old gf came back and he dropped AH's character and took
up with Annie already. I'm not sure who is more wishy-washy: the women or the men. Enough already!

Saturday, January 27, 2007

you might be a redneck if....

Bugs sent me this link along with the comment, "What took so long?"
I can't believe America would rather watch Idol than listen to wacko, pampered celebs lecture people about their out of control lives...

It's time for yet another installment of my (not so) weekly feature: "What's Happening in the Enquirer?"
According to Enquirer sources, Matt Lauer hates Meredith Viera *even more* than he hated Katie!
Funny since the Enquirer was either accusing Matt and Katie of hating each other or having an affair on an almost regular basis.
I guess they're bound to get it right sooner or later.
Billy Joel allegedly had his wallet stolen once while a woman in Boston was performing oral sex on him under a piano. Ouch.
He lost his money and his dignity in one money shot.
His marriage to Christie broke up because he couldn't put the kibosh to the groupies, according to a new bio about him.
Unbelievable. You have a gorgeous woman like Christie Brinkley in your bed and you turn to some sleazy, ass ho's.
Brad and Angelina not only want to have another child, they're thinking of having one AND adopting one at the same time so they can reach their goal of 10 kids.
Slow down there, Brad. You have a few years yet before Angelina's eggs become hard boiled.
Not to be outdone, Jennifer Aniston is thinking about adopting TWO children.
Speaking of Jen, she's furious because Courtney Cox talked to Brad at a Hollywood awards show.
Yes, I think she's emotionally mature enough to raise kids.
Here's one of my favorite stories: apparently Whitless has moved in with Brandy's 26 year old brother Ray J. The piece ended with this paragraph:
"It was overwhelming {all that Whitless has gone through recently}, but she got through it and now she feels she has her whole life ahead of her again. Hopefully, Ray J won't disappoint her." Ray J won't disappoint HER?! Um, hello? Who allegedly spent the last few years of their life stoned out of their mind?
Sorry, guys, but apparently Renee Z. is dating Luke Perry because she "adores his lack of ego." Might be a reason he has no ego about himself, Renee.
And last but certainly not least, class act Courtney Love was rejected by eHarmony because
they could not find ANYONE in their nationwide database to match her personality. I'd love to know what the hell she wrote in her profile.
If Courtney wants to attract a man, she might want to remove that stoned, haggard looking image of herself from the top of her website,
She has lots of great pics of herself on the site, why represent herself with that mess?
In my Enquirer horrorscope, it told me to "de clutter," which I just did when I feng shui-ed. Then it said, "Give things to charity." Hell, I thought I *was* charity!

Happy Birthday to my Sweetie!!
Thanks for sharing your life with me........along with a gut wrenching case of the flu.
No, I'm *not* going to let you forget.

I'm so pissed at Lurlene. She just showed me the plans for her BBQ/car pad. It will sit directly behind my trailer. I have totally feng shui-ed my trailer, which means releasing all of my clutter. Ergo, all of the appliances in the back yard were moved to the front.
Now the flow of my good Chi is going to be interrupted by the sight of Lurlene's old man in his ratty underwear BBQ'ing his morning roadkill right next to his rusted out Ford. Talk about a reason to start a diet...
Even worse is their redneck parties where everybody stands around balancing a plate, beer and silverware. It's like they've never heard of those newfangled contraptions called "chairs." At their last party, their guests were eating off the hood of Lurlene's truck. One guy was actually eating off of a plate wedged between his chest and the faux wood siding of her trailer. What a laugh, what a laugh, what a mighty good laugh.

Speaking of rednecks, our other neighbor is, this very moment, employing the "Redneck Method of Snow 'Plowing'."
He pulls his truck in and out of his driveway about 50 times. A plowboy wannabe. That's just sad.

Well, it just figures. No wonder Anne Heche has such a great chemistry with her
Men in Trees co-star, James Tupper, the two are reportedly having an affair. Both have ended their marriages recently.
It was hilarious to watch ET put Justine Bateman and the creator of the show on the spot when the asked about the off screen romance.
Justine is like, "Well, you know I'm just trying to do Lynne (her character) and concentrating on that..."
and the creator of the show said, "I'm only concerned with the ONscreen romance."
The bad thing about offscreen romances between stars is that when the relationship goes
south, so does their chemistry on the show, as was the case with Cybill and Bruce.
I love the way ET built this whole thing up by saying that Anne was going to discuss whether or not her affair led to
the breakup of her marriage. They never even ASKED her about the damn affair. They were too busy asking everyone else.

Friday, January 26, 2007

dont you want me baby

I sneezed today at work and I wanted to cry. I've suffered through all that Taebo, and with one night of throwing up
my ab muscles are so sore I can't even laugh without feeling like I just gave birth.

I came into work to find three notes from Overtime Hawg. I read them, ripped them up
and threw them in the trash where they belong. She can take her bitchiness out on someone else. I can't help but laugh at this entire situation
because it's all of her own making. She was trying to garner brownie points with the boss, so
she said she would do certain things and now suddenly she feels "overworked."
Well that's the price you pay for being a big ole brown noser.
On top of the notes, Boss #2 says, "Oh, btw, she didn't have time to do such and such this week."
It would have taken her no more than FIVE MINUTES to do that job.
So let's see if I have this right: she has time to watch an hour and a half of soaps five days a week, but she doesn't have time to do the job she was hired to do? Until I hear anything
about her pissy little notes from Boss #1, she can kiss my white ass. The funniest note was something along the lines of, "Before you leave on Thursdays check and make sure I have blah blah. If not, put it out for me so I can do it on Friday."
She is some piece of (half assed) work. I say check it your damn self when you come in Friday morning LIKE I DO.
One of my co-workers said her mother worked with O.H. for years and she was all about pushing her work onto others. Some things never change.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

mixed nuts

Last night I was at the eye drs with Mr. G--he did fine, btw--and I thought, "ya know, I don't feel so good."
I said that much the same way an unwitting weather forecaster says, "we're going to experience a little wind" right before a devastating tornado hits.
Long story short, even when sick my body has only one mode of operation: fast and (unfortunately) furious.
I will say this much, Holly is a much better companion when I'm sick than the
damn cats are. They avoid me like the plague. She didn't leave my side. If only she could get that fake heart attack thing right.
I did learn one thing last night. I was talking to my gf T last week and she was telling me about a friend of hers who has gastric bypass surgery, and
four months later, she's still vomiting daily. I said--STUPIDLY--"well, I guess I could stand that to be thin for the rest of my life." WRONG!!

When Mr. G was filling out the forms at the eye doctor, there's a section that says, "Check the
activities that you regularly engage in" and they listed things like golfing, reading, blah blah.
He leans over to me and says, "Should I pencil in 'sex'?"

Well, this is strange. First, I was watching Guiding Light and I could not
figure out where I'd seen the girl who now plays Daisy before. I finally realized she
played Emily Yokas on Third Watch. Yesterday afternoon, I was watching "Dirt" for the
first time and I recognized the guy who played Holt as a former cop on Third Watch.
Weird thing is I haven't seen either of these people since Third Watch went off the air...

I like "Dirt," but I'm not buying Courtney Cox as the hardened bitch.
I still tend to picture her in Friends persona.
Oh, and for the inquiring minds who want to know, the vibrator Courtney uses on the show is a Pocket Rocket.
I'll be curious to see how Aniston acts on this show.
I've never seen her play anything but a wishy washy ditz.
I'd like to see her in a role where she's forced to grow some balls.
But holy hell, this is only the fourth ep of Dirt and it was HELLA hard to follow all the relationships on the show.
I had to listen to that recap intro about four times.

A guy knocked on my door yesterday and told
me he had to replace my water meter because apparently it's been stuck for the last ten months.
You have to compare last month's usage with this month's usage to figure out my current bill, so
obviously someone has being doing a half assed job and guesstimating my bill all this time.
It reminds me of my boss and her gas bill woes.
Apparently her gas company is only required to read the meter once or twice a year.
She received a $1,700 bill in the mail.
It does not seem fair that they're allowed to operate that way.

There's an article currently running on MSN entitled "I Make $6.50 an hour. Am I poor?"
The writer makes statements like, "I am no longer proud," "I am one minor
medical emergency away from welfare," and then the funniest statement in the whole piece, "I am not a victim."
You haven't convinced me so far.
At one point she says, "There is no shame in being poor." Then what's
with the "no longer proud" statement made in the present tense? Even her friends have gotten into her mode of
thinking by finishing her sentences with the words, "Before you were poor...".
I guess the writer is forgetting there are some people who live on LESS THAN $6.50 an hour.
Does this mean they have no right to be proud of themselves and their achievements?
How 'bout we just slap a big ole "P" on their chests?
The author of the piece talks about having to do such pitiful things as keeping the thermostat at 63 degrees and 60 at night. Wow. Can you imagine?
I hate to hit her with the fact that our DAYTIME temp is 60 and 0 at night because we turn the heat off.
Do I feel bad about that? Hell, no. I sleep like a baby snuggled under all those quilts Grandma made for me.
Besides, the billionaire oil company owners have enough money. Why should I give them even more of mine?
The author goes on to say she now uses half the amount of recommended laundry detergent. Who's dumb enough
to use the RECOMMENDED amount set by the very people who make and sell you detergent?
I'm guessing she also followed those "lather, rinse, repeat" instructions
to the letter. She says buys the "cheapest soap," walks when she can, and combines trips when she drives.
She says they patched her gas tank and it's lasted longer than she thought.
I guess she's disappointed she's not making more money so she could have spent it on a new gas tank?
The article should be less about being poor, and more about learning to use some common sense.
When people have more disposable income, they can become careless about managing it.
When you make less, you're forced to pay attention to where every penny is going, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Even if you were making
more money, why would you want to hand it over to the utility companies?
Why would you want to waste more of your money on gasoline because you're making unnecessary trips?
Or waste it on buying expensive soaps that only get washed down the drain?
I've seen people on Oprah stand up and say they make 6 figures, and yet they live
paycheck to paycheck. Wealth is not about a figure, it's about living WITHIN your income.
The only thing the author didn't talk about in this article?
How much money she was paid when she sold the piece to MSN....

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

satisfaction guaranteed or your money back

The results of my latest "test the dog's response to my fake heart attack-- attempt #53" are in: While Holly came to my side almost the second I hit the floor, she tried repeatedly to sit on my face. Conclusion: I think the dog is trying to smother me to death with her 10o pound, black Lab ass. Damn, that dog has a big back yard....

Great news! I WON THE LOTTERY!!!!
Everybody sing! " a deeeeluxe apartment in the sky."
And here's the fabulous part: I never even bought a ticket! How's that for excellent luck?!
They notified me via email from the UK. I am one lucky fucker.
The only downside to this is I have to share the 2. 5 mill with 9 other people,
which means I'm only going to get about....some math geek figure that out and let me know, will ya? And I don't even want to hear the words "after taxes" because that implies that I intend to pay them. The VERY first thing I'm going to do
is get Mr. G lasix eye surgery. At $3k an eye, that's not happening for us right now.
Too bad Dr. Nick doesn't have an office around here. He does "any operation $299.99".
The next first thing I'm going to do is fly to Baaaahstan and let the Enforcer rub my head (and/or any other body part he'd prefer) to improve his luck.
The second thing I'm going to do is disconnect my phone. If my 90 year old Mom wants to get a hold of me, she'll just have to drive up here and knock on my door. If it's good enough for the Jehovah Witnesses, it's good enough for Mom. And she better not expect a hand out. It's like she always told me when I asked her for money, "You made your bed of newspapers on the floor, you can sleep on it."
I guess South has embarrassed me enough that I'm willing to buy a new TV with my winnings. Although, I say if it works, why throw it away? So what if the picture is in black and white?
But the first thing I'm going to buy is a tank of oil. I'm sick and tired of trying to convince the offspring that the trashcan I use to burn garbage in the middle of the living room floor is really a fire place. They're slowly starting to wise up. Then I'm going to buy a huge supply of my favorite candy. Look, if I'm rich it doesn't matter if I fat up.
Mr. G will stick with me for the easy ride on Money Street. Only a total asshole
wouldn't have the smarts to keep a woman happy in return for a free ride.
[Isn't that right, KFed?]
Plus--and we've talked about this before--I intend to hire someone to perform cunnilingus whenever I ask. This will let Mr. G off the hook, and it will free up five extra minutes (every two years) of his time to indulge in whatever activity he chooses. I rest quite comfortable in the knowledge that he WON'T be off giving some other woman cunnilingus....
Of course, Cunnilingus Man might be required to do some house cleaning
and laundry in his down time. I'm not paying some guy to sit on his ass all day. That's my job.
Then I might invest in a new kitchen floor. Ours is sagging a bit. But only when we walk on it.

You know I have to write a comic book about Cunnilingus Man some day.
Cunnlinigus Man and his confused, gay sidekick, The Spermahater.
I guess I should also include my favorite female character, The Ovulator and her best friend Amenorrhea.

You know the Science of Mind philosophy emphasizes that you should act like you already have what you desire. With that in mind, I'm seriously considering getting another personal assistant to help answer all my website correspondence like other famous writers. I want someone to zip off snotty emails like, "I'm sorry, Goddess is way too important to answer your email. Have a nice day! Oh, and check out her latest offering from Doubleday!"
I can't wait to be egotistical and rich! It's so close I can smell it. Oh, wait. That's not success I smell. A spark from the "fire place" just caught the rug on fire.
If only Belinda Sue hadn't been lazier than I am I'd still have an assistant. Who knew that was possible? BTW, I heard from her last week. She's in rehab for the eighth time.
Face it, after the second time, you're just going there for the free room and hot food.

I've decided that black chicks have it made in the shade. If they have a big butt, it's a "booty," and it's "bootylicious." She's got "junk in the trunk", "back", or a "nice back yard." But us white chicks just have a big old vanilla fat ass.

Great line on COPS today. The officer read the guy his rights and said "Do you understand your rights as I've read them to you?" and the guy said, "no." The cop said, "Well, I don't know any other way to explain them to you."

I have never liked William Shatner's "acting," but he's hilarious on those Priceline ads.
Especially the one where he tasers a guy.
The guy's son says, "Did you zap my dad?"
And Shatner says, "No, no, no, no, noooo...I did zap your dad."
Very funny stuff.

Oh, lordy. Everytime I turn on the tv and catch a glimpse of one of those big, burly
NEWS MEN on The Today Show making floral arrangements with Martha Stewart, I laugh and laugh. Today it was David Gregory.

And that's my two cents...

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

suck it up, buttercup.

Here are the only two pics of Nicole Petallides I have been able to track down on the internet. I couldn't even find her on the TV Heads site, which *seems* to have every major anchor/reporter listed. Apparently she has QUITE a following among the men....if your internet searches are anything to go by.

free to do what i want any old time

Good news/bad news with Direct TV. The picture is so much better than with Dish, and we don't even have a high def tv,
so I can only imagine how much clearer/crisper it would be on a high def set.
Bad news is the new DVD player doesn't work. I have to get what's
called an "RF Modulator," and the installer said that SHOULD work.
Installer dude was nice, except for one thing. He kept saying I would have to "read the manuals." Excuse me?! I prefer my own, more scientific method of bugging the hell out of people who have already read the manual.

One feature on Direct TV that I really like is called "Autotune." This comes in handy for
people like me, who have minds like swiss cheese. I don't know how many times I'll be sitting here in the living room
working on my laptop, waiting to watch a show, then I totally forget it's on. With "autotune," you set the program to a list and it will switch the channel automatically to that program when it begins. And yes, I've already memorized Court TV's channel number on Direct TV. Yippee!
I'm also anxious to see "Dirt" and "Rescue Me" on FX. Funny, but I'd forgotten how often FX shows Shallow Hal until I began to read their lineup....

I was watching Beach Patrol last night and during one segment, they said the cops were having a problem
with "a very large man." I often wonder how people feel after hearing themselves
described like that when they see the show later on tv. Nothing like totally humiliating people. It's not bad enough that they refer to him as drunk? "Big, fat drunk" makes for more interesting tv, I guess.

Here's an interesting new feature on Court TV's new primetime blog, called, "I Confess."
They want people to tell riveting but non-pornographic (damn!) personal confessions.
It's at times like this that I resent leading a boring life. What could I confess? The time my dad busted me for stealing
a Powerhouse candy bar? No one would have been the wiser had I just
EATEN the damn thing instead of walking around with it, bragging to my (not so trusty) siblings.
The Girl From U.N.C.L.E. would have NEVER slipped up like that! Speaking of which, remember that ep
where April Dancer got stuck in a giant toaster? Oh, that was memorable tv. Oooo! Maybe I could talk about the time I borrowed my gf's Osmond Brother's album, then told her I returned it, even though I hadn't. (In my defense, it was that one good album that they had, Homemade. Bet ya didn't know they had a good album, huh? Alas, my conscience got the best of me and I gave it back. Sigh. Fuck Catholicism!) Good grief. I've been a fucking thief in the making since I was 8...

I saw the Jenny McCarthy/Weight Watchers commercial again last night, and she insinuated
that she began WW after she brought her son home from the hospital. I began to wonder
when she had that kid because she's been dating Jim Carey for a while now.
I looked online and found out that she had him in 2002!
And we're just NOW hearing about this weight loss?! I thought it was funny that she said, "The first week I
lost three pounds, the second week I lost three pounds. Six months later..."
I'm thinking "yeah six months later you're still thinking about those two weeks it took you to lose all your baby weight..."

Monday, January 22, 2007

what a boob

I thought I had achieved bra nirvana, but now I'm not so sure.
The other day I found a bra that took my gurls, Schequanda and LaWanda, to new heights. Literally.
I was so proud, I found myself walking up to strangers, shoving my breasts in their faces and saying, "Look! Look!
Love, and incredibly strong bra straps have lifted my boobs up where they belong! Where the eagles cry, on a mountain high!"
Ok ok, maybe a good bit of that was in my head.
Last night, I was walking down the hallway and when I looked down to openly
admire my breasts for the 9 millionth time, I noticed the right breast seemed to have a mind of her own.
Instead of standing front and center, LaWanda seemed to be drifiting off in the direction of my right armpit.
And damned if Schequanda didn't seem to be heading towards my left armpit.
What the HELL do Asian boobs look like that my "made in China" bra does this to my breasts?!
So I pointed this out to Mr. G and said, "Do the gurls look strange to you?"
He studied them for a few minutes, didn't miss the opportunity to weigh
them in his hands a few seconds, then said, "Yeah, they do look different. But I like it!"

I see Hilary Clinton has decided to run for President. Frankly, I can't see her winning. Not as long as anything male is running against her.
You know there are some people who automatically assume females can't make tough
decisions and shouldn't be in charge of the country because we're "too emotional."
They figure we'll have one bad PMS episode, call up Kim Jong-il and tell him to go fuck himself. Or we'll find the toilet seat up
in the White House bathroom, and blow up another country. As if that's not a reasonable reaction.
Because of this, some people will vote for anything male. Hell, Snoopy could be running against Hil,
and people would be all, "Oh, hell, no, I'm not voting for Hilary. Haven't you heard? Snoopy's running!
We know he served in WWI. Those Red Baron strips don't lie! Sure he's got that root beer monkey on his back, but I feel confident he can lick that addiction."
Of course, the local media is hanging onto the fact that one of the other candidates, Tom Vilsack was born in Pittsburgh. Every freaking
newstory that runs about him begins with the words, "Former Pittsburgher Tom Vilsack."
It's like the whole gub'ner of Iowa thing never happened.
They act that way all the time in small towns. For instance, Charles Bronson was born in a small town not far from here.
If the cousin of the aunt of the uncle of someone
who once knew someone who knew of Charles Bronson once bought a pierogi
in this city, we'll hear all about an in-depth article.

Dude is installing Direct TV RIGHT THIS MOMENT!!!!

look out court tv, here i come!

I got up at 7 a.m. this morning and hiked it to WalMart to buy a DVD player and a new VCR. I
remember when we bought our first VCR, they cost around $400. The one I bought today cost me $37. To christen the DVD player, I bought my first non-pornographic DVD.
It's a horror flick, and it's called, "Billy Blanks Total Body Fat Blaster." Brrrrr.
Even the title gives me the shivers.
Anyway, I bought the new DVD player/recorder so the Direct TV dude could hook it all up this afternoon. I had our DVD and VCR hooked up for cable, but the DISH guy hooked everything up again when we switched and our DVD player never did work after that.

I, for one, am soooo happy the playoffs are over because I don't think I could have taken one more week of having to hear Mr. G yell the phrase, "They are the luckiest BASTARDS on the planet!" while watching New England. And, trust me, he did NOT mean that in a good way. He hates New England. Before the playoff teams were chosen, all I heard was "anybody but New England". We crapped out last night when New England had such a healthy lead in the second quarter, and Mr. G woke me up at 3 a.m. before he went to work to tell me New England blew it and the Colts won. So it's down to the Colts and the Bears, and I'm definitely hoping Tony Dungee's team wins.

I roughly figured out our taxes last night. I'm waiting on a couple interest statements, then I'm good to go. I usually have someone do our taxes, but he refuses to file electronically because he's a damn big cheap ass. Last year he actually told us that it would "take about the same amount of time" to get our money anyway. It took us six weeks last year, so we'll see. I'm going to use the free E file feature on the IRS site. I was screwed up, though. I thought I had to buy software to use and then free file, but they list sites where I can file my return for free. As long as your income is below $52k you're good to go, and trust me, mine below $52k. Waaaaaay, waaaaay buh-low.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

holeeee shit!

OMG. NOOOOOOOOO!! If I EVER see a guy wearing leggings like the pair seen here from the fashion runways in Paris, I will SCREAM!!
Then point out his funny looking bulges. If you thought fat chicks in leggings were
wrong, wait till you get a load of a ball sac in stretch material. The worst part is also the funny part: designers are telling men these leggings are the "must have" item for their wardrobe and I find that to be hilarious. About damn time the designers make men suffer through some of the bullshit we've had to suffer through. Next up: halter tops for men!

i can't do it all on my own i know i'm no superman

When I woke up from my dream this morning, I got out of bed, went into Mr. G's room and gave him a big hard smack. I'll be damned if I'm putting up with him carousing with other women in MY dreams! The only person who should be having multiple stranger sex in my dreams is ME!

This morning when we sat down to breakfast and the offspring served up some bacon and eggs, I burst into tears. Seeing the greasy bacon on my plate reminded me of how much I miss Lassie!! The crispy strips of her relatives were so delicious with my dippy eggs. Heartbreaking, but delicious.

From the "let's pretend I'm Sandra Lee" file: it was 'open faced sandwiches night' Saturday. Get out your pencils and paper, and write this mouthwatering recipe down: You grind up ham and make ham patties; add a
layer of mashed sweet pataters and then a ring of pineapple. Bake them in the oven until thoroughly heated and then add a big marshmallow in the center of the pineapple ring. Pop under the broiler for a few seconds until the marshmallow is browned and gooey. They are delish. And that's what we had. Well, that's what the offspring had. I had a bag of marshmallows. So "X" that recipe out and go buy yourself a bag of 'shmallows.

The local newspaper is doing another one of it's infamous comic page shakeups in an effort to bring us new strips. This from a paper that continues to run Prince Valiant and Rex Morgan, M.D., the dinosaurs of comic strips. And sadly, they JUST got rid of Mary Worth. The last time they pissed with our comics, I lost my beloved Foxtrot.
To this day, I have no idea what's happening in the lives of Peter, Roger, Fox or Trot. Sure I could go to the Foxtrot website daily, but that seems like a lot of work.
They're giving us five possible new choices, "Baby Blues," "On a Claire Day," "Pooch Cafe," The Flying McCoys," or "One Big Happy," but what I don't like is they don't tell us which one of our strips will be ganked until it's gone. I'm leaning towards "The Flying McCoys" because it's like "The Far Side" and I also like "Pooch Cafe" because it reminds me of "Get Fuzzy." Although I read them, Andy Capp and Beetle Bailey are the ones I'd be willing to let go without crying about it.
When they yanked Foxtrot, we got Dilbert. At the time, Dilbert was in the middle of a storyline about computers, and I didn't know much about computers then, so I hated Dilbert. We've since made peace.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

she's got a ticket to ride

{afternoon update}
I have been royally ripped off by a seven year old, and I'm not gonna take it!! This morning one of the neighborhood brats came a knockin' on my trailer door. He had a box of candy in one hand, a hopeful expression in his big cartoon brown eyes, and a steady stream of snot running out his nose....which would
explain the wad of tissues in the other hand. And why he kept using his tongue to catch the snot every few seconds.
He said, "Goddess, would you please buy some
candy bars so my class at *insert name of school district that is too farking cheap to include school trips in their budget here* can go to the zoo?"
Being a firm supporter of the arts (and the polar bears at the Pittsburgh Zoo), I said, "Come in and show me what you have. Did you suggest to your teacher that you start selling the ever so popular marijuana cigarettes like I told you last time? Your whole school would be able to go to the zoo once you finished selling in our trailer court."
He said, "My teacher said drugs are bad, Goddess."
Spoken like someone who spends her afternoon breaks knocking back several brewskies in the teacher's lounge.
He said, "I have chocolate candy bars."
*SCHWING!* If I had a penis it would have been rock hard the moment those words left his lips.
Now seeing how Mr. G and I have been eating healthy for almost a year now, and
seeing how I've promised myself to take some George Bushlike advice and 'stay the course no matter how much it hurts,' naturally I was forced to say, "What kind and how much?"
He carefully laid his wares on the table and said, "They're a dollar each and I have--"
"A DOLLAR?!" I screamed. "Why when I was your age last week I hiked it up to Dollar General and they were THREE FOR A BUCK! Ok what kind?"
He said, "I have milk chocolate." He held it up for my inspection.
I said, "Sweetie, plain milk chocolate bars are like cheap whores. You can find 'em anywhere. Next!"
"I have chocolate with Rice Krispies in it."
I said, "Hey, if I want to snap, crackle and pop, I'll buy cereal. What else ya got, Zig Ziglar?"
He said, "I have chocolate with almonds."
*SHWING!!* My imaginary 12 inch penis was hard again.
"Ok, I'll buy five on one condition: you can't tell ANYONE that I bought them. That includes the offspring AND most importantly, my current husband, got it?
If they ask, you LIE."
Now I know it's wrong to ask a small child to lie, but hell, they're going to anyway. I might as well benefit from it.
So, a few minutes ago, I poured myself an icy cold glass of diet Pepsi that I'm not drinking anymore and sat down to enjoy the chocolate that I'm not eating anymore.
I unwrapped that bar and expected to find BIG NUTS! BIG, CRUNCHY NUTS that I risk breaking a filling on, but nay! They were nothing more than ground up bits of nuts. And the bits were so damn small they probably could use one almond in several candy bars. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....the next time I see that kid I am so pelting him with snowballs.

[morning update] Yay! Bruno's a genius! The problem I was having with my windshield freezing on the INSIDE of my car was because I had the slide thingy where you have to choose between letting cold air into the car from outside or re-circulating the air that was already in the car in the wrong position. Because other people might think the same twisted way I did--"well, if I leave the cold air come INTO the car, it'll make the freezing on the inside even worse"--I'm going to reprint part of his email explaining why that is oh, so wrong: "In the winter, believe it or not, you want that lever in the OUTSIDE AIR IN circulating position. The other way, where it re-circulates the INSIDE AIR will fog you up in a heartbeat! It recycles inside ONLY, where the moisture from your breath, clothes, and the still-damp upholstry. The OUTSIDE AIR IN does bring in COLD air, yes. But it's DRY, COLD air, which is then heated when it passes over your heater core, inside of the whole mess in your dash. Some models with A/C dry their air automatically, by auto-cycling the A/C system---yes, even in the winter! The COLDER the air, the DRYER!"

This is part of a conversation South and I had yesterday when I told him I was getting my Court TV back Monday:
South: amazing what motivates you though
Moi: what motivates me"?
South: well lets see you put up with a crowing rooster every am at or before daylight for 6 months
South: you live in a house that never gets above 48 degrees in the winter or below 88 in the summer
South: you stick with ghetto internet through a shitty ISP for years
South: but let em take away 30 mins of COPS and suddenly you come to life
Moi: lol. true but hey I even procrastinated on that cuz mr g told me to order it at the beginning of January
Hey, a girl can only stand so much, but in the case of my crappy ghetto dial up, they didn't have dsl in my area until the end of last year AND I was able to use my dial up. With DISH, I was paying $37 a month for something I didn't have. Fuck that.
Speaking of changing to Direct TV, it pisses me off when I read that you shouldn't give out your sosh number to anyone. You can't fucking DO anything in this country WITHOUT giving out your sosh number. Direct TV wouldn't approve us until they did a credit check, which meant giving out our sosh number. What I didn't like about Direct TV was this: they asked me for a credit card number IN CASE my credit was bad and they had to charge me. THEN they did the credit check and said everything was fine. Now they have more of my information in THEIR system that can be stolen, and that's wrong. These companies piss me off when they insist on having all of our info then can't properly protect it. But I got the feeling the cc info was more in case I screwed them over later on.

Friday, January 19, 2007

fighting fair

Am I the only one who thinks the much pimped meeting between Papa Bear Bill O'Reilly and Stephen Colbert was much ado about nothing? Very anti-climatic. *Yawn*

(afternoon update)
Just when you think people can't get any dumber...

Ok, I am Direct TV (AND Court TV!) bound. Monday afternoon. And no, I don't have
my DVD player bought yet. Peepy steps, people. Peepy steps.

I love the fact that ABC lets you view all their major shows for free online.
Mr. G's UFC crap comes on Thursday nights the same time Men In Trees is on.
It's really nice that I can get online Friday morning and watch my show instead of having to give it a miss altogether.

And YAY! The asshole that I was referring to in the story below was found guilty of first degree murder.
After his sentence was read, he actually had the balls to turn to his attorney and say, "What happened to justice?"
I'd say it's been served very well.

(morning update) Note to self: STOP scheduling your chiro appts first thing
Friday morning when you KNOW you want to sleep in.....especially on snowy winter morns.

I'll be calling around for a Direct TV hook up today. You'd think I'd be happy, right?
Wrong. I am one HELL of a procrastinator, even if it's for something I want.
For instance, I still haven't picked out my diamond anniversary band yet.
My procrastinating to so bad that I'm going to write a book about it. At some point.
The kicker is I have to buy a DVD player because I want the Direct TV dude to hook it up for me and that means: shopping.
I. Hate. To. Shop. Ergo I hate calling for Direct TV. Sigh.

There's a guy currently on trial in our area for murdering his ex-gf's 6 year old son
in front of her and their 3 year old daughter. He was allegedly
attacking the child's mother and the child stepped in to protect her. What a hero he was. The
boy's injuries included a knife lodged so deeply into his neck that it stuck in the spinal column,
hemmorages around the eyes and mouth, indicating he had been choked and a swollen brain, among others.
This is what the cowardly asshole that allegedly murdered this small child said on the witness stand:
he said he came into the apartment building and heard his ex arguing with another man upstairs,
so he grabbed the knife to defend her. He said he ran up the stairs and into the apartment and ACCIDENTALLY
ran into the child. He said he then carried him downstairs and attempted to revive the child with CPR. He
said his ex came down the stairs and screamed, "you killed my son". In the meantime, the other man ran
past them and out the door. He said he "freaked" and took the woman into the apartment and duct taped
her and then had CONSENSUAL SEX with her. It was reported that he sobbed several times on the stand.
Now I ask you, what mother, moments after seeing her son being brutally murdered, would agree
to CONSENSUAL SEX?! Would want to have sex AT ALL? What I remember most about this
guy is the smug "fuck you" look he gave the cameras when he was being arraigned for this murder last month.
Yeah, it's always a brave man who can murder a small child and beat up on women.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

i drove all night to get to you

I love the Spike TV commercial where two cops are "chasing" after a guy on a Hoveround type scooter.

Frank Hargrave, member of the Virginia House of Delegates, said, while discussing the pending
legislation for a state apology for slavery, that African-Americans should "get over" slavery.
Perhaps he didn't word that tactfully, but I totally agree with his notion.
He should have said they need to "get over" this bullshit about apologies.
The only African Americans who deserve an apology are the ones who were held as slaves,
and the only apology they need is the one from the people who held them as slaves.
I can see from the way the country is constantly going over this issue that an apology
won't solve a damn thing, regardless of who it comes from, so ENOUGH already.

Wow, I can't believe this. Our neighbor's deed was listed in the paper yesterday and the house is ONLY in his name.
I can't believe his wife is that naive. Nobody plans to get divorced but if they should get divorced,
she gets NOTHING from the house, despite helping to make payments on it.
And I'm not sure about this, but she *might* have to pay inheritance tax if he dies
and it's in his will that the house goes to her. In PA the inheritance tax is a whopping 14%.
I just can't imagine anyone not thinking this through, especially when she works in a bank. To make payments
all your life on a home that you have no claim to in the end is ludicrous.
My B-I-L tried to do this to my sister several years ago, and my dad was all OVER him.

I would love to know how DISH TV gets away with some of their ads.
Currently they're running one that gives you 10 months of tv for their America's Top 60 plan for
$19.99. It SAYS "over 155 channels". Excuse me? It's called America's Top SIXTY for a fucking reason,
and it's not because you get 155 channels either.
And then it says something like, "This is not a special. These are our every day prices."
Like fun it is. It's their every day prices for ten months and then it jumps to $29.99.

I watched the video with Paula Abdul that's making it's rounds on the net.
Obviously there was something wrong with her. Once again, I'd have more respect
for her if she came out and said, "I have a problem, but it's my personal business" or "here's the deal with what was happening with me"
instead of totally denying there is a problem, because nobody's buying it. She just ends up looking like more of an ass. It might be a medication interaction problem or whatever.
I think the public has proven time and time again with politicians, celebs and athletes that they're willing to forgive people who tell the truth.
I was really shocked, though, to see Rosie O'Donnell insinuating on The View yesterday that Paula has a drinking problem. Lord knows I hate The View, but Rosie is a SERIOUS detriment to that show, and that's too bad because I used to like her sense of humor. Now it seems like she's out to slam everyone. If she keeps on in this vein, I can't imagine Barbara keeping her on much longer.

where's the "eye for an eye" law when ya need it?

You know the scariest thing about this story? That some woman would be STUPID enough to have ANOTHER child with him....

BTW, ONE SHOT is an accident. Several is deliberate. What a creep.

A St. Charles County man is accused of shooting his own 12-day-old son with a BB gun.

Authorities say Shawn Michael Mohan shot the baby several times, causing circular-shaped bruises to the face, left arm, hand, foot, hip and buttocks. The injuries are not life-threatening.
Mohan, 20, claims the shooting was an accident.

The injuries were discovered when the child was taken for a routine exam at his pediatrician's office. The doctor called the Missouri Division of Family Services.

Mohan is on probation after pleading guilty in 2005 to child endangerment, related to a serious head injury to his first son when the boy was three months old. He pleaded guilty and was given a five-year suspended sentence.

Kia cop ad

Here's the Kia cop ad y'all are googling for....

armed and hella preachy

If I didn't know better--and I don't--I'd think all these 'crimes' on Armed and Famous were fake.
What makes me even more suspicious? LaToya going "undercover" as a prostitute on the street. Who the HELL is not going to recognize her after all the press this show got before it started?

And what is with these ACTORS preaching at people? UGH. LaToya goes on and on about not taking someone's physical abuse, while Jack Osbourne rambled on about his drug history. Then Estrada goes off on some dude who said assumed he had a great childhood. Next thing ya know they'll be passing out Bibles.

Then they made this huge deal about LaToya helping this woman have her baby. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I saw LaToya help her out of the car, baby already on her chest.

Favorite moment of the show: Estrada not knowing what the hell a back hoe was...

baby you can drive my car...

Ok, I know I have a lot of car savvy guys reading my blog, so tell me, what causes a car to ice up on the INSIDE? Besides the fact that it's made in Korea. And yes, all the windows are closed tightly...

Sign me,

Frosty Freeze

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, most times you choose between the two

If anybody has used the Free File feature on the IRS site for their Federal Income Taxes, would you please email me? I have a question about it...

Jay sends these hilarious REDNECK PICKUP LINES:
Did you fart? cuz you blew me away.
Are yer parents retarded? cuz ya sure are special. (For some reason, I can hear South using that line...)
My Love fer you is like diarrhea . I can't hold it in.
Do you have a liberry card? cuz I'd like to sign you out.
Is there a mirror in yer pants? cuz I can see myself in em.
If you was a tree and I were a Squirrel, I'd store my nuts in yer hole.
Ok, this is my favorite: You might not be the best lookin girl here, but beauty's only a
light switch away.
I can't find my puppy, can you help me find him? I think he went into this cheap motel room.
Yer eyes are as blue as window cleaner.
If yer gunna regret this in the mornin, we kin sleep til afternoon.
Annnnd my second favorite: Yer face reminds me of a wrench, every time I think of it my nuts tighten up.

As if boring us for three hours wasn't criminal enough, I just heard on
TV that the Today Show is adding yet ANOTHER hour of inane coverage of incredibly stupid topics to their show.
Ooooo, maybe I can finally find out the right way to clean fake flowers. I'm riveted to my chair in anticipation....

Oh, this is FABULOUS, people. I come back to work, JANUARY FREAKING SEVENTEENTH and Overtime Hawg has not lifted on finger to take down ANY of the Christmas decorations. I was so pissed. When I was invited to her house and didn’t go earlier in the month, co-worker #1 did. Then O.H. told her she should begin taking down all the decorations and HELLO! she felt obligated to say ‘yes’ because she’d just been to O.H’s house. I could see that coming a mile away. For once, I delegated. I took down some things, left specific things O.H. had to do and told co-worker #2 what I expected of her. [I don’t have to worry about co-worker #1. She and I do the majority of the work without being asked.] Co-worker #2 has everyone so well trained that they’re afraid to even ASK her to do anything. I said to my boss, “it’s not fair to the rest of us that she does nothing, so I’m going to ask her to do blah blah,” and I did. My boss immediately said, “Oh she won’t do it.“ Ugh. Sometimes I wonder if I even HAVE a boss. I asked Co-worker #2 by telling her what I did first, then said, “how about taking care of blah.” I knew she wasn’t happy about it but I figured fuck it. It’s part of the job. You’re paid to do the job so do it.

I have GOT to stop hanging out with crafty chicks. Great segue, huh? A few weeks ago, my gf and I bought photo boxes at Michaels. They were plain cardboard boxes. Mine was pink, hers was light green. Mine is still pink. (Hell, mine is still in the damn bag.) When I stopped over at her place earlier, she pulled out the box and it was all freaking decorated with pictures of leaves, trees and flowers, and cutesy, earthy sayings. I’m like, “Oh come the fark ON already!”

I love this headline from Sunday’s Parade Mag, “Why Everyone Really Likes Sally Field.” Hell, I didn’t even know we did.

I’ve seen two eps of “The Knights of Prosperity” and while the show is ok, I’m wondering how they’re going to sustain it for an entire season….or more. It was formerly called “Let’s Rob Mick Jagger” and Mick and David Letterman are co-exec producers. I think this premise would have been better as a movie. I just don’t think it has enough substance for a series. Speaking of series with substance, Men in Trees continues to knock out good shows week after week. I like the cast--although I’m not wild about new addition Justine Bateman--and I love the writing. I love Ty Olsson aka “Plow Guy” and Currie Graham in his new role as Sheriff Celia‘s “Supervisior,” too. I’ve also gotten into “Scrubs” a little more. I still don’t get the dynamic of a lot of the relationships, which made it difficult at first, I like the humor mixed with seriousness. I do wish they’d stop doing voiceovers in tv shows, though.

I hate that H&R Block commercial where the guy tells his wife they’re being audited and she says, “Let’s ask the box what we should do.” Ok, as if that isn’t LAME enough, the husband then says, “What’s it saying?” I really dislike advertising that talks down to people.

I kinda have to laugh when Senators are telling Condelezza Rice that they’ve been lied to. Well, now they know how we feel…

WOW. It’s scary how accurate these things are. From my horror scope for today: “Tonight: surf the internet and watch tv.” Damn!

On a serious note, Mr. G has an eye appointment next Wednesday, so please keep a good thought for him. He’s experiencing some problems and that concerns him (and me!) majorly because of his diabetes.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

ehhhhh crap!

Metamucil. It's a beautiful thang.....

Oh, EWWWWWWWWWW! I can't even think up an ironic header for this one....

in my mind i'm waving goodbye

Once again I called Mike with an extreme emergency and once again, I had to wait till 4:30 am for him to call me back. I think he deliberately calls that late thinking I won’t answer the phone. Wrong.
“What’s your serious emergency this time?” he drawled. (And I mean “draaaaaaaaaawled”.)
I said, “Don’t mock me. It is serious. I’m having problems finding new pictures of hott cops for my Hott Cops blog and I--hello? Helloooo?” Little does he realize how this is going to negatively impact him. If I can‘t find pics of hott cops to drool over, I’ll be forced to spend my time yakking with him on IM.
I guess I should have told him his fridge stopped working two days ago, but I hate to bothering him with the unimportant stuff, you know?

I’m starting to pack up my things for the trip home, and I’m sad. Soon it will be back to my trailer, back to my life and back to my site consisting of five faithful skimmers. Gee, one for every year that I’ve had the site. At this rate, I’ll be a famous writer in two thousand and never.

Mr. G called and asked how Lassie was. I told him she was just fine. At this point, he still thought she was a dog. As I was chattering with him, Male Offspring #8 yanked on Lassie’s tail and she let out a major squeal. Mr. G said, “What was that noise?”
I said, “Not to worry, honey. I’m just watching Deliverance. After all, this is Georgia.”
He said, “So help me, if you bought a pig, you can take it right back. Do NOT bring that thing home.” Sigh. All my cajoling, all my begging, all my offering generous blowjobs into 2008 didn’t help one iota. I had to take the pig back. Sigh.

It’s been mucho fun having him. As a special treat, before I took Lassie back to the farm, Male Offspring #8, and I took him out for a fast food feast. It was so cute, glancing into the rearview mirror and seeing them strapped in their little car seats, side by side, both watching “Barnyard”. I think Lassie recognized a few relatives. And she was such a good girl, even when I got stopped by a HOTTIE from the Atlanta poleece. As the officer approached my car, he shined a flashlight into the back seat and said, “Can I see your license and --hell, you have a pig in a car seat!”
As I passed him my license and registration, I said, “Yeah, you probably see that a lot down here, huh?”
He said, “And why would that be, Ma’am? The farmers taking their pigs to market?”
My cop sarcasm radar went off, but I ignored it and said, “Well, market and the drive through window at McDonald’s. That’s where we’re going. But please don’t keep referring to her as a “pig”. My son thinks she’s a dog.”
“Why would he think that?”
“I have no idea why he would confuse Lassie for a dog.”
“Yeah, that’s the pig’s name.”
“Doesn’t that explain a hell of a lot.”
He went back to his car and the next thing I knew, his partner was standing by my window with my information and his flashlight muttering something like, “This I gotta see.”

From the “how Goddess lost her groove, her $50 and her pig” file: I drove Lassie back to the pig farm and asked the farmer to give me my moola back.
Old MacThief said, “I’ll take the pig back for $15”
I‘m like, “What?! I paid $50 for him!”
He said, “Hey, once you took him off the farm he began depreciating….”
I yelled, “What?! Fine! I’ll take the $15, Old MacCheater!” Note to self: only call people names AFTER you get the cash in hand.

If you actually wanted to attend the AVN awards--and gee, who didn’t?--check out the G4 site tonight at 7p.m. They’re having a “red carpet” special. No pun intended, I’m sure, but I find that hilarious since most porn chicks don't even have carpets.

Well, my Rio is all packed, so I’m shoving off. Yes, I remembered Male Offspring #8. And his double espresso. Bye, ya'll!

Monday, January 15, 2007

it's a rainy night in georgia and i feel it's raining all over the world

Yesterday when I was out shopping for baby bonnets for my pig, I saw the strangest thing: it was a 2 in 1 toaster RADIO from Kenwood. Google it. It’s the most bizarre looking thing, with an antenna jutting out next to the slots for your bread. If you’re not careful, you could impale your toast on it. I had to stop and stare, and contemplate the many, many occasions in one’s life that you would be in dire need of a radio and two slices of cinnamon raisin toast at the same time. Oddly, I couldn’t come up with a single one.

As I travel across (or down, as the case may be) this great land of ours, something occurs to me: trailer people are greatly discriminated against. Think about it. When was the last time you turned on the tv and saw an episode of “Extreme Makeover: Mobile Home Edition”? Or “Flip This Trailer”?...when there wasn’t a hurricane involved. Or “Pimp My Dubba Wide”? You people living in the glued together houses shouldn’t be pointing and laughing either. You don’t see, “What‘s With That Pre Fab?“ or “This Old Modular Home” on tv either. End this discrimination now!

Bugs emailed me and reminded me that had I come to visit Cincinnati, I could have gotten a fiberglass flying pig, instead of Lassie. Cincinnati is home to the Big Pig Gig, in which artists design flying pigs, which are displayed all over the city. And had I gone to Scranton, I could have gotten a fiberglass mule from their Miles of Mules project. Hmm, a mule sounds like fun...

So last night was my first night with Lassie, and I must say she adjusted to South’s place quite nicely. I cleaned out one of Mike’s dresser drawers then lined it with some of his white, dress shirts and Lassie cuddled right up and snorted her way to hog heaven. I’m worried, though, that she might be more aggressive than I thought. Earlier, I took her and Male Offspring #8 out for a walk. Lassie chased a full grown German Shepard halfway down the block before I could catch up to her. And when I picked her up, I’m fairly certain there was a moment there when her eyes were glowing red. To lower her chances of appearing on “When Piglets Attack,” I went to the store and bought one of those Cubby Cuddlers that new mother’s wear and strapped the damn pig to my back. If she gains any weight, I’m in for some serious spinal problems.

Right now, we’re outside. The kid and the pig are in the playpen, all greased up and enjoying a warm afternoon. South’s neighbor sauntered over and wanted to know why I had sunscreen on the pig, but none on Male Offspring #8. Call me goofy--and many do--but I think it’s the chemicals in the sunscreen and bug repellant sinking into our skin that actually causes the damn cancer and not the sun.

South may not be having a blast in Vegas, but I am certainly enjoying my ‘mid-winter that seems more like spring’ vacation. I’m stretched out on a lawn chair with my laptop, Sunday paper and one of South’s rifles….just in case somebody tries to make off with my laptop. Or my pig. Oh, yeah, and my kid, too. South’s neighbor was nice enough to invite us over for a barbeque, but I refused. Even though I want some fun piled on a bun, there’s something so wrong about taking a pig to a BBQ. Hmmm, is it my imagination or am I smelling bacon all of a sudd--holy shit! Lassie needs more sunscreen! I'm outtie.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand, sometimes you turn your back to the wind

I love that commercial for The Bean exerciser, where a GROWN WOMAN says, “The first time I tried the ball I fell off, and I never used it again.” Oh for Pete’s sake. Evidently her motto is "if at first you don't succeed, quit."

The ONE FREAKING WEEK I’m in front of a high def flat screen and NO NEW COPS last night. GUH!!!! (See? Told ya I wouldn’t talk about them.)

When I want something, I build it up in my mind as being fantastic and wonderful and just the best thing that’s ever happened to me, to the point I‘m fairly well delusional about it. For instance, in my mind, my offspring are just like those kids in the Ovaltine commercial. They’re outside all happy, building a snowman as a team, and the one kid comes rushing outside and says, “Come on, everybody! Mom’s making rich, chocolate Ovaltine!“ and they all go rushing into Mom’s warm kitchen for a mug of hot cocoa with a dollop of whipped cream and love. In reality, my family is like having to deal with 16 Ozzy Osbournes at the height of his stupidity.
Well, we visited the pig farm today, and this is what I *thought* the pig would look like.

Say “hello” to *reality*.

Oddly, this is the exact same feeling I had when I saw each of my newborn offspring for the first time.

Luckily, I’ve never been one to let reality get in my way. Sooooo, congratulate me, kids! I am a new Mommy! Say hello to my lil sweetie, Lassie.

[I think South’s neighbor, Ray got a little too close to that snout when he snapped the pic.]
In the pic, the farmer was graciously showing me how to apply suntan lotion to my piglet. Apparently they burn very easily and have to wear suntan lotion all the time. This Northern girl did not know that. However, between you and me, if I find out that farmer was dicking with me, and I could just as easily use SPF 15 instead of paying for the more expensive SPF 30, I’m gonna be PISSED. The farmer dude was a bit snippy right from the start. I think it bugged the hell out of him that I was a Yankee. Sigh. I deal with this every time I come here. Must I be persecuted because I'm from the good side of the Mason Dixon line? Anywho, he objected because I kept calling the baby pigs “piglets” and after rolling his eyes several times, he said, “Ma’am, we prefer to call them ‘shoats’. Piglet is Pooh’s friend.” I said, “Well thank you very much for the education….and for tossing all that sarcasm in for free.” But I do appreciate him telling me about the suntan lotion and he even suggested that the Gerber brand of car seat was the best for Lassie to ride in for the drive home.

Male Offspring #8 loved those piglets--screw Old MacDonald, I‘ll call ‘em what I want!!--and I’m thinking he confused them with his brothers and sisters. We had to pry him out of the pig pen kicking and screaming. Consequently, he wasn‘t exactly smelling like a rose when we left the farm. I had to drive through the car wash and hang him out the window, then Fabreeze him from head to toe.

Lassie is a hell of a lot of fun though. South has this one room with hard wood floors, and we turned on the stereo to dance. We blasted “I Wanna Put On My Boogie Shoes”--although in Lassie’s case it was more like “boogie hooves”--and Male Offspring #1, Lassie and myself danced for over an hour. BTW, Nick, you’re gonna need to email Mike and tell him what will take the scuff marks and scratch marks out of hardwood floors. Thanks. You’re a doll.

BTW, I talked to South late yesterday afternoon, and--no lie--guess what that wild man was doing? Picture it--he’s in Vegas, sin capitol of the country, surrounded by hot porn chicks
and South is………*drum roll please* …sitting in his room eating peanut butter crackers.
Oh, the life of a stud.

Ok, I have to zip out and buy some baby bonnets for Lassie. The farmer suggested them to protect her against ear infections in the colder Northern climes. Cya!

HELP!! you know you want to....

Normally I'd post this on my Hott Cops site--and I have--but I'm gonna post it here, too, because not everyone who reads this blog reads Hott Cops.

The Kingston Police Department is hoping to raise $36k by May 2007 for their own canine unit.
"The goal of this group is to raise funds to create a K-9 unit for the Kingston Police Department, that will also be used for the Old Colony Special Operations Group, a newly created SWAT team. This will be a division of the Kingston Police Department that will have a positive lasting effect on children as well as adults in the community."
If you look at the faces of those kids on the web site, you know that's a great goal, and one that will help foster better relations between young adults and officers.

You can donate via paypal on the site or by sending a check/money order to KTPOK9, P.O. Box 386, Kingston, MA 02364. BTW, I never ask anyone to donate if I haven't donated myself, so pony up, please;)

Saturday, January 13, 2007

don't leave me this way

Here's something that’s yanking my chain. I drove all day to get here to do South a FAVOR and he gives me no respect. I called him in Vegas last night and left messages all over the damn place telling him that I was having a really serious problem and I didn‘t know how to handle it. He finally calls me at 3:45 a.m. and says, “What’s up?” I said, “Thank God! I’m experiencing this persistent vaginal itch and I ---hello? Hello?-” and when I called him back, I got shuffled over to his voice mail. That is just wrong, people. Turns out the itch was caused by using South’s electric razor on my cooch. Apparently, that’s not a good idea.

Add one more thing to the list of stuff South’s “association” forbids: I’m not allowed to set up a booth on the sidewalk in front of his place, peddling his DVD’s at “deep, discount prices”. Damn. This place is no fun.

Although, I have been overdosing on Court TV the last few days, and that’s been a pure delight. They even had some bittersweet trailer court segments of COPS from Atlanta. I miss trash. I miss home.

Ok, time for me to check the old mailbag and see what’s on the minds of some of my close personal friends. Yvette wants to help me fulfill my dreams. Ok, Yvette. Send me a 6’4” tall, hetero male with a shaved head who wants nothing more than to eat my pussy all day. Seth wants me to ‘test the sweets of life’. If the amount of Ding Dong wrappers I burned in South’s backyard is anything to go by, I’ve been testing the sweets of life. John has a treatment for my penis. Hey, I like my penis fine just the way it is. Cathy is concerned that I’m still suffering from premature ejaculation, and Steven promises that she will love me “more than any other guy”. It’s at this point that I feel the need to break into a rousing chorus of “I am woman, hear me roar.” It’s nice to know my close personal friends, the spammers, are thinking of me.

My gf talked me into watching Armed and Famous, the show where five washed up celebs become cops and fade even further into oblivion. She convinced me with this argument: “you can’t make fun of it if you don’t watch it.“ I think one of my favorite reviewer comments about the show concerns Latoya Jackson. The reviewer said, “The five of them then go to a laundromat, where La Toya can't quite master the dollar bill changer. She is, however, allowed to carry a firearm.” LaToya gets the Asshole Award for saying that she’s always wanted to be a cop or work at McDonald’s. Oooo, wouldn’t it be so fun to hobnob with the ‘po? Sadly, I think McDonald’s is too lofty a goal for Miss Jackson. One of my favorite celeb comments about the show came from Eric Estrada who actually said that he had a very big advantage over the others because he played a cop on tv . Yes, that’s so much like the real thing that any day now I expect George Clooney to begin operating on people because of his days on E.R.

South’s neighbor just called and said he’s going to pick us up in a few minutes. We’re going piggy shopping! I I’m so excited. I have to say that even though he was a bit reluctant at first, Mr. G is now thrilled about the prospect of owning a pig. Of course, he might be under the impression that we’re picking out a miniature collie, something that he’s always wanted. I don’t know who would have given him that idea *whistles innocently* but when you think about it, “pig” and “miniature collie” sound so much alike. I’m just going to feel a tad strange calling the pig, “Lassie”.
I’m outtie!

Friday, January 12, 2007

going south platinum edition

What a total idiot.

EXCELLENT NEWS!! South’s neighbor--the one who nicely informed me that I have to remove the giant plastic flamingoes and the sign that reads ‘Welcome to Hickville! Population: Mike South” from South’s front lawn--is going to hook me up with a piglet!! Damn. And I worked hard on that sign. I even had a picture of South on it with a cartoon bubble above his head reading, “I am a Confederate Cutie!“ But I’m willing to overlook the disappointment because he promised to drive me to a pig farm over the weekend and get me a piggy! And I promise to post a pic of my lil sweetie when I get him. Or her.

JimmyD writes: “It’s so refreshing when, once or twice a year, south's site is worth reading. you one funny lady!” Thanks, Jimmy. That is indeed high praise coming from you. BTW, I told South what you said--accidentally, of course--and he said he’s gonna kick yer ass when he sees you in Vegas. If I were you, Jimmy, I’d beat him to the punch--no pun intended. Just walk up to him and cold cock him….again no pun intended.

Nick writes: “Hi There,
Being Italian I sure know what it is like to deal with Spaghetti sauce stains lol
I am a friend o Mikes and here is what I would recommend. Make a slurry consisting of baking soda and water. Make sure it is thick a consistency that would stick onto a surface – something like peanut butter.
Allow to site for a few minutes and then gently using a cloth try to wipe it down.
This concoction can also be used on nasty oil stains in shirts…. Try it.
The other option could be mixing baking soda with Club Soda – club soda is a trick used by Dry Cleaners for these hard stains.
If all else fails, go to PEP Boys and get Mothers Leather Cleaner and Conditioner – the conditioner after cleaning smells like Cocoa butter and preserves the leather making it nice and soft
Hope it works.”
OMG. South has a friend that ISN’T a stripper?! Wow. Wait. You’re not a stripper, right, Nick?
I found some baking soda and decided to try it on my shirts, and it worked great. Unfortunately I used it all when I made Male Offspring #8 a cherry slurry. He loved it!
I got on my Tom Tom and figured out that the closest Pep Boys is about three point four miles from South’s place. Now if I weigh that long drive against the fact that I won’t be here when South discovers the mess, I think I’m willing to risk it. What can he do to me over IM? Give me a virtual smack? Oooooo, I’m shaking in my virtual size two silk teddy.

It is soooo difficult having Male Offspring #8 in South’s place because it’s like taking your child to a brothel. Remember how I told you South has slutty pics of naked chicks on his walls? I’m sorry “nude ART” adorning his walls? Male Offspring #1 keeps toddling over to one pic and pointing. Then I have to rush over, cover his eyes and say, “Don’t look at that bad, bad cooch!” Five minutes after he was here, he had already learned the phrase “bad, bad cooch”. Plus, I'm not getting much sleep because he is at the stage of his little life where he’s found his penis and is very proud of it. He’s forever playing with it and trying to show it to people. Much like his 19 year old brother. Not to worry, when he gets a little older, I’ll teach MO#8 to be ashamed of his sexuality like I have all my other boys. Just doing my part to prepare him for marriage. I’m outtie!

Thursday, January 11, 2007

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane i never did find my way back

This was my morning wake up (telephone) call from Female Offspring #6: “Mom, if
something catches fire, what’s the first thing we should do?”
“Call the fire company, for Pete freaking sake!”
Then I hear her yelling, “See! I told you we should have called the fire company first instead of calling her--”
and bam went the receiver. Here’s the sad part: I don’t even WANT to know.

Angie writes: “Goddess you and Mike changing homes all the time is like that movie The Holiday with Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz.”
You’re comparing my situation with South to a movie where people swap homes and find true love? You’re forgetting two
important details, Angie: South always goes somewhere to sex it up and I’m always stuck here WORKING for him.
Yeah, the similarities are mind blowing. Tea and sex with Jack Bleech, anyone?

It’s difficult for me to understand the ways of Southern people sometimes. Take this morning, for instance. I was wandering around South’s backyard for over 15 minutes trying to find his clothes line. Finally a neighbor came out and said, “Chew lookin’ for the Promised Land or wut?”
I said, “I’m looking for the clothes line so I can hang out my pricey Dollar General undergarments.”
He then told me it was “agin reg-a-layshuns” to hang clothes outside. I said, “Let me see if I have this right. You own your own property and yet you let someone else make rules that you have to follow….on your OWN property?”
That is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard. No damn wonder everybody was looking at me funny when I burned my trash in his back yard yesterday afternoon.

I think the hardest thing to get used to when I stay at Mike’s is the fact that his phone rings all hours of the night.
And not just when there’s a “sexually related crisis” like the Sugarloaf Sweeties b.s.
I can tell he hangs with strippers because it’s nothing for one of them to call at 4 a.m. to jaw, and after 4 a.m., the phone remains silent until late afternoon. If MY phone rings past 10 p.m. I can automatically assume the coroner has just pronounced someone in my family legally dead.
Unfortunately these stripper chicks are usually drunk off their asses and incoherent. Even though it says in Romans 5:3-4 that “..tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character…” I wanted to smack the stripper chick who called here early this morning and said, “Where’s Mike? I’m fixing to need some bail money.” I had a rough night with Male Offspring #8 and I was a bit cranky. But I reigned it in and said as nicely as I could, “Oh, somebody
already called him about that. He’s on his way to the ATM. You just sit tight and wait for him to show.” One less “friend”calling here for me to worry about. Sometimes I make it my mission to see how many of his friends I can piss off while I’m here.

South sure has made a lot of nice improvements to his place since I was here last, but I have to say, I’ve never seen French Doors in a trailer before. Looks purdy though. And Male Offspring #8 left several spaghetti handprints on the glass. So I wrote “Male Offspring #8 was here” in spit right above it. Looks cute. We call it “spaghetti art”.

Damn. Male Offspring #8 just pooped on South’s leath---I mean, on a stranger’s leather couch.
I knew there was something I forgot to get at the store. Diapers. Peee yew! I’m outtie.

me me's all about me

Anne tagged me for a meme.....

If you had to choose one vice in exclusion of all others what would it be?
I’d hire a guy to give me cunnilingus whenever, wherever I wanted.

If you could change one specific thing about the world what would it be?
I would eliminate hatred.

Name the cartoon character you identify with the most.
Fuzzy from the Get Fuzzy strip.

If you could live one day in your life over again which one would it be?
The day my first offspring was born. I would love to relive the moment the dr laid her on my belly, and I’d think twice about my response when the dr said, “Are you sure you don’t want us to tie your tubes while we’re in there?” (“In there.” “Down there.“ Eight years of medical school and they sound like they’re going on an diving expedition.)

If you could go back in history and spend a day with one person who would it be?
Stephen Colbert. That way I wouldn’t have to go back too far and hell, he rocks!

What is the one thing you lost sold or threw away that you wish you could have back?
My favorite dolls from childhood.

What is your one most important contribution to this world.
I haven’t snuffed out the life of an annoying old person. Yet.

What is your one hidden talent that nearly no one knows about?
I can eat chocolate cake with one hand and masturbate with the other at the same time.
Sometimes when I get distracted, things get messy…

What is your most cherished posession?
It’s not a possession but my relationship w/Mr. G is what I cherish most in my life.

What one person influenced your life the most when growing up?
Negatively--every miserable, sex starved nun that ever taught me in grade school. Positively--my oldest sister.

What one word describes you better than any other?
Pain in the as---oh wait, that’s four. HAPPY!!

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

*insert the theme from Rocky here*

I can tell Mr. G uses a box cutter in his line of work. The other day I went into the kitchen for some tea and he had slashed the box right down the middle. I said, "Honey, can't you unwrap the plastic and open the box like everyone else?" Sigh.

Poor Barbaro is having trouble again. What a fighter he is.

don't look now there's a monkey on your back

Two o’clock in the afternoon. Time to rise and whine!

If anybody knows how to get spaghetti sauce stains out of a cream colored leather couch, please email me pronto. Thanks. And Mike, if you’re reading this, not to worry. This has nothing to do with *your* cream colored leather couch. Purely coincidental.

I forgot to mention how amazingly intuitive my Tom Tom is. I typed in my destination as “the depths of Hell” and damned if the directions to South’s place didn’t pop right up.
I gonna smack Male Offspring #5, the Jebus freak of the family, when I get back home, though. I told him to make sure I had plenty of good CD’s to listen to and he assured me I did. I was about an hour away from home when I realized he’d replaced all my CD’s with Bible CD’s that he bought me for my birthday last year. I was so bored I listened to them, BUT I’m happy to say that none of it sunk in. This is one of the times I’m grateful that my mind is like a sieve and that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

I didn’t get much sleep last night because South’s phone is still ringing about the Sugarloaf Sweeties story. BTW, “Sugarloaf Sweeties” ? Awful name for a scandal; great name for a female barbershop quartet. At first, I told callers the truth, that South was in Vegas. Now I’m just so pissed about being woken up several times during the night that I’m making up any damn excuse I feel like. I told them he was in rehab, in jail, cashiering at Dollar General, working hard on, trying to reform gays, and finally this morning I told one guy South was donating a kidney to a sick, underprivileged Ethiopian child. It just sounds like something he’d do, doesn’t it? Actually, no.

South has made it perfectly clear that you guys don’t want me to discuss cops, and I won’t, except to say that I had a bit of a run in with one at a QT outside of Atlanta. I stopped for some gum and beer, and Male Offspring #8 said, “Ca ca ba,” and went toddling off. Ca ca ba is candy bar in offspring speak. The boy might not know his name or his age, but he sure as hell knows his Kit Kat’s from his 5th Avenue bars. I said, “Great idea. Get Mommy a Snicker.” So I snapped up my scratch off lottery tickets or as I refer to them ‘my tickets to freedom‘, my Juicy Fruit and beer, and took off. Twenty minutes later when I came back for Male Offspring #8, he was sitting with a police officer in the squad car, clutching my Snicker and a half eaten bag of Reese's Pieces. I said, “Look, Officer, before you even say one word, I am a good mother. I don’t care what you might have read about me on,”--gotta keep pimping my site, just in case my story gets picked up by the media!--”I am an excellent mother. My kids are my world and I am always thinking of them.”
He said, “Then what happened?”
I said , “Ok, this is how it all went down. I was so excited that I won a $1 on my ‘tickets to freedom’ that I drove off, anxious to get to my computer so I could blog about it. About ten minutes after I left the store, I said, ‘who’s the prettiest Mommy in the whole wide world‘? I‘ll give you a hint, she‘s a dollar richer.” And there was no response. Well, as you can imagine, my stomach sank. My son did not think I was the prettiest Mommy in the whole wide world anymore! I turned around and PHEW! it wasn’t that he didn’t think I wasn’t pretty anymore. I’d forgotten him at QT! What a lucky break. You know, for me. So I called immediately and the lady told me he was sitting in the candy bar aisle with a Snicker and a bag of Reese’s Pieces. Ever since we saw E.T. he’s been a huge Reese’s Pieces fan. Now gimme my kid and my Snicker bar, and I’ll be on my way. BTW, you let him eat those Reese's Pieces, so you're paying for them.”
Luckily, he left me off with just a warning. “Forget your kid again and you’re going to jail.” Sweet!

BTW, I had to laugh when I read Harry Zimm’s comment the other day about how he wished South would be inducted into AVN's Hall of Fame. Let’s see if I can recall my favorite Mike South moment EVER from his video “Tearing It Up In Tampa.” He rolls out from under a chick’s car in a repair shop and said, “No, Ma’am, from what I can tell it looks like it’s got rear end problems and you’re probably gonna need a lube, and for sure, a plug.” Oh the subtle sexual innuendos.
Worse yet was when the chick said, “OMG. Aren’t you Mike South? The guy that does movies?’ Oh. Lord.
Very Hall of Fame worthy. Personally, I can’t believe no one has ever uploaded that snippet to YouTube. It’s hilarious.
Oh, and, Harry? The cops obsession thing? You might as well have wished that chicks are born with pink polka dot tits. Although I believe it was Matthew 19:26 who said, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Peace out.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

like a band of gypsies we go down the highway

I will be waking up in Mike South’s bed Wednesday morning!! Ok, that doesn’t sound good.
Let me change that. "I will be waking up on some rolled up newspapers on the floor of
South’s bedroom Wednesday morning!!" Awww, I’m missing home already.

When South asked me to update while he ho’ed it up in Vegas, I told him there was no freaking way I was going to face that harrowing drive after last time. All those days on the road and I never even made it to Georgia. I cried and ranted and raved and when none of that worked, I made it clear that I had no qualms about giving up his source for that Pirates II thingy unless he wired me air fare.
And he did. Barely enough for the ‘no class’ section.
There was a slight problem, however, when I got to the airport. Haha, it’s the funniest thing. South is gonna laugh and laugh and kick my ass when he reads this. I kinda forgot about my ‘being terrified to fly‘ problem.
So I spent the money on a Tom Tom BUT I’m saving the receipt and returning it as soon as I get home like I did last time. I don’t need a GPS system to find my way to the drive in window of
the Dairy Queen. Now if it could help me locate my car in WalMart’s parking lot, I might consider keeping it.

I have to be honest and tell you that I only agreed to this gig for two reasons:
A. South has a high def widescreen in his trailer
2. South has COURT TV
In case you haven’t heard, the bastards at Dish eliminated Court TV
and until I get Direct TV at the end of the month, I‘m jonesing badly for my COPS!!
So what that translates to is this: if one of my offspring calls and says, "Mommy, Court TV is back on!"
I’m blowing this popsicle stand pronto. AND I’m stealing the copy of Polar Express that South dl’ed illegally for me. Call it poetic justice. I don’t care if I did promise to gut it out for several days. Some promises were made to be broken. I don’t want you people to think I’m not thrilled to be updating for him, but well, I’m not.
BTW, when South tells you guys I’m updating, why does he always add the words "God help us"? My confidence is only bolstered by the fact that everybody is in Vegas and no one is reading me anyway.

Here’s a few things I’m noticing about drivers on the way down to Georgia: thugs drive while leaning against the driver’s side door. Guess it makes the drive by’s easier. Cops lean in the opposite direction, probably to avoid the drive bys. When an old person is driving towards you all you see is a puff of teased blue hair and a steering wheel being held with a claw like death grip. The older they are the more veins you can see popping out in their hands and fingers. Creepy lonely guys and rednecks drive with their right arm stretched out along the back of their seat. Lonely guys do it because they’re mentally picturing that little lady next to them. [These are the same guys who buy birthday cakes for their blow up girlfriends.] Rednecks drive with their arm stretched out so they can quickly reach for the rifle they have mounted above their seat if you piss’em off. And teens don’t have any hands on the wheel because they’re too busy using them for talking and texting.

On the radio while driving down Monday, I heard a story about a woman and her son who stole a baby boa from a pet store in Ohio and were arrested when they later returned and asked for books on how to care for the animal. Oh, if only they had stolen "The Idiots Guide to Shoplifiting" first.
In another interesting story, I learned that if you want to make a quick $180k, follow the lead froma Philadelphia woman. She carried flour filled condoms onto an airplane and was arrested because the airport workers thought the substance was drugs. Apparently it took the CSI geniuses in Philly three weeks to decide the condoms were, in fact, filled with flour and the chick
won a cool 180k for civil rights violations because she was jailed the entire time.

Before I left I did this wicked "spell for love" that my gf sent me. Since I'm not really looking
for love, but wouldn't mind some hot monkey sex, I made a few adjustments.
First you write down the characteristics you're looking for in a love match. My case sex match. On pink paper, I wrote:
6'4", shaved head, horny hott cop.
Sure it's shallow, but I'm not looking to impress the guy. I just want to get sexed up.
Then you're supposed to hold an apple up to the moon
and say, "Lady Moon of sky above, grant my wish and send me love."
I said, "Lady Moon of a sky so hexed, grant my wish and send me meaningless sex."
The instructions tell you to then carve two touching hearts into the apple. In my case, I carved a penis entering a vagina.
(I knew all those mindless whittling lessons from Grandpa would come in handy sooner or later.) Then you put the apple on the pink paper, sprinkle it with rose petals.
I didn't have rose petals so sprinkled it with peanut shells. BIG NUT shells, if you catch my drift.
Then I tied everything up with a red ribbon, knotting it three times as I repeated my wish.
I took the apple into the woods and bowed to the Moon three times.
The spell said I should soon find what I desire. Oooooo, can't wait! With my luck some deer probably ate the apple five seconds after I walked away...

Ok, time for me to grab my kid and get back on the road so I can be in Georgia by nightfall. I didn’t tell South I couldn’t find a babysitter for Male Offspring #8. MO#8 is only 11 months old and I couldn’t trust him with his siblings. They have no idea how to care for the needs of a small child. Ooo, speaking of which, he hasn’t eaten since he had that Cinnabon in Virginia that he washed down with a splash of double expresso, so I better grab
a taco for him along the way. The boy needs his veggies. See ya in Georgia!

Monday, January 08, 2007

at last my love has come along my lonely days are over

I have spent all morning trying to find a babysitter for Male Offspring #8 while
I'm in Georgia this week taking care of South's site. God knows I can't trust the kids and Mr. G will be working.
For some odd reason no one in the trailer court (or within a ten mile radius) will babysit my kids. All I have to do
is say, "Hi, this is Goddess, are you free to baby--" and they give out an ear piercing scream, then hang up on me.
I think I'm going to have to bite the bullet and take him with me.
I just hope South's dump is as child friendly as it is ho friendly.
While taking him on a long drive is difficult, I'm thinking maybe it could help me with the pig situation.
Despite the fact that Holly has tried to carry him off into the woods several times, MO #8 loves dogs.
I bet if I get my hands on a piggie in Georiga, tell MO #8 that it's a puppy, Mr. G will HAVE to let me keep him.

When I bought my last pair of Nikes, I noticed there were four or five pin hole sized holes at the top that fell around my middle toe.
I figured they were probably there to let the shoe breathe to cut down on shoe odor.
(Hey, what do I know? I don't work in the Nike sweat shop.)
Every farking time we go for a walk in the rain, the top of my sock gets soaked, like last night!!
Now I've be driving with wet sneakers...ick.

Ok, I gotta finish packing and start driving. See ya later, kids.