Christmas Parade

Here's some photos from the Christmas parade.  Junior's little friend is the neighbor's grandson, Ryan.  He's the CUTEST kid with freckles I've EVER seen!  And these bags were FULL of candy when the parade ended.  I would love to know what Junior was thinking in this photo.

Yep, that's a SKULL on Junior's hat.  He's a total badass.
This is my favorite float in the parade.  I'm not sure what a National Sojourner does but they wear some kickass costumes!  
And here we have the redneck's parade entry.  Not only was the race car on display...IT WAS RUNNING!  Thank you for participating in the parade AND spending the cash for fuel.  I was way more excited to see this than Santa.  

Christmas wrap up

So Christmas was pretty awesome.  Junior is three now so he's REALLY into presents and their eventual "tearing."  For the two weeks before Christmas, all we heard is:  "Can I tear this present?  I want to tear this present!  Go ahead Mama, tear this one!"

Shopping was hard this year.  We just shelled out cash for one of the big boy's class ring and paid for both big boys to go on their annual youth trip at the Big God Conference in Myrtle Beach.  And big boys like big expensive toys.  It was a tough one but they got what they asked for and they seem happy.  (Except for my screw up buying the right game for the WRONG system.  It all worked out, Santa found the receipt.)

Of course, being the procrastinator I am, (hey, give me a break - I bought all the damned presents - mostly on time!  I even skillfully stacked them and camouflaged them with a sheet - the ones that would not fit under the big boys' beds.) I'm always wrapping presents until Christmas Eve.  Junior was being a good little elf helping with the placing of presents under the tree...until the one large box would not fit under the tree, even though it would slide up neatly next to the tree.  I didn't realize just how tired the little man was until that meltdown.  "Mama, de prez ant wont' fit under de tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"  Oh my!  Three rears its ugly head again.  Junior, would you like to revisit your new "I'm NOT taking a nap!" policy?  You should really think about it long and hard.

I did do a lot of holiday cooking.  I made crockpot candy and even got a little help spooning them out from a not-so-surly teenager (I reckon he knew Santa was watching).  174 pieces divided into three containers on a Friday turned into ONLY 1 container in the fridge by 7:30 am Monday.  It should be called CRACKpot candy, it's that good.

I finally opened the KitchenAid Stand Mixer box and made two batches of banana nut bread over two weekends.  Oh my!!  I can not describe the awesomeness of the KASM - there are no words.  Best. Kitchen. Accessory. EVER!!  

My favorite part of the KASM is the receipe prep.  It's like playing Alton Brown in your own kitchen!!  The KASM instruction manual preaches almost nothing but DO NOT OVER BEAT your goodies.  (This is probably a good rule to apply to most anything in life.  Do not over beat your goodies!)  You have to be READY! to put all your stuff in the mixer at the right time to avoid over beating.  Nothing like a little PRESSURE to go with your awesomely intimidating FIRST stand mixer EVER.

Junior and I decided we needed to make chocolate chip cookies for Santa.  Junior remembered this from last year!  So Junior and I have all kinds of ingredient bowls set out on the counter.  I'd left the butter in the mixer to soften earlier in the evening.  I spun the butter around a bit to make sure it was indeed softened and I was satisfied with the yellow mush so I unlatch the head thing and kick it back to scrape and add the eggs and sugar.  Junior is short and three so he's standing on a chair, right next to the mixer.  He sees the butter on the paddle and before I can say, "Noooooo!!!" he sticks out his tongue and LICKS the butter and says, "MMMM!  Deese cookies good!"  Dammit boy.

We got all the wet stuff in the mixer and it was time for the flour.  Junior did a good job of scooping it into the chute without getting most of it on the counter.  When they were done mixing I gave him the beater to "clean" and he was done after that.  He got what HE wanted, I was left to plop 'em out on the cookie sheets.  

Junior also remembered that we put carrots out for the reindeer last year and he asked to do it again this year.  I'm glad *I* remembered to buy carrots!!

Everybody but me slept in Christmas morning.  I'd been wanting to make fudge for the first time so I made a pot of coffee and started my fudge experimenting.  I had no clue it was SO EASY to make!  I can't believe I let myself be so intimidated for so long.  It was kind of scary when the boil started making the ingredients "grow" in the pan but it did not boil over the side of the pan.  The hardest part is scraping the marshmallow fluff out of the jar.  Sticky stuff!  

My last holiday cooking duty was to provide pinto beans and fry bread for the Friday night dinner.  Most of the family got together at Mom & Dad's and had Indian tacos.  Fry bread is hard work and well worth the reward.  I made two batches and there was only 1 bread left when we'd finished filling our gullets.  Also, I had flour ALL OVER my NEW shirt but managed to not get it all over the floor.  

Dinner was really good but my favorite part of the night had me acting like I was 10 years old again.  And torturing my younger siblings.  Again.  SO FREAKIN' GOOD!

Brudder and his family had just left and Junior and I were running around hiding from each other.  I was waiting in the dark hallway when Brudder came back in for the 3 items one always leaves when traveling with small children.  I heard him telling mom he left something in the back room and could hear him headed my way to get it.  I scooted back a little and crouched down like a cat.  Hell, I think I even wiggled a bit like kittehs do just before the ATTACK!  I should probably be ashamed that I was THAT excited.  But I am not.

I got him good though, just as he stepped to where I was I jumped up with a RAWR! and he did shriek a little as he jumped.  And it was a sweet sweet wave of HA!  I STILL RULE YOU! that washed over me.  So very awesome.

I hope you all enjoyed your Holiday Season as much as I did!  Here's to a prosperous NEW YEAR!

GAME ON SUCKA!!

The winter ping pong season has started.  Being a bit fluffy and allergic to most things known as "exercise" I dig the pong.  Pong makes me move, jump around, curse, sweat and think.  The crushing of small plastic balls with paddles is really good for a girl's (is ego appropriate here?) (let's settle for something nice instead) winter exercise needs.  

The husband and I play at the neighbors' house.  Our neighbors have the best toys.  There must be some kind of toy quality/quantity ratio that becomes greater the older you get - directionally proportionate to your children growing up and move out/away.  OH MAN!!!  I can't wait to have awesome toys too!  

The women got off to a good start, despite being R-U-S-T-Y.  We won the first night of play but haven't done too well since.  The ladies don't play as often as the men folk do.  The men compete often because that's what boys do ya' know?  The women usually have their bitch-asses in the kitchen making pies.  Or not.  

We usually play women versus men because it's more fun that way and there's no fighting afterwards - just gloating.  The men are rather husbandly about their wins, just enough gloat to say "We won!" (and Please don't poison our dinner because we did win, please!?) Wives show no mercy.  Copious amounts of gloating ensue if the women win.  Us women tend to go for the throat (or lower) when we win.  

I can't think of many things that are more gratifying than busting their collective asses so when the ladies do win, it's awesome.  And quite often, in the middle of a match, if we're winning - I can hear "FINISH HIM!" in my mind.  And I just go crazy.  I get full-on possessed by the pong demons.  Sometimes they let me win but sometimes they get all backed up in there and I beat myself with very bad and greedy plays.

January and February are pretty damn drab at the beach.  Coldest time of year (for the beach - it's a real bitch compared to Minnesota, or so I hear.  Ha!).  I'm so glad it's pong season so we don't go stir crazy!  So what are YOU going to do for the next two months?  

I just heard a ROCK crumble.

This hurts me in my Redneck Parts:

"I don't work for Petty Enterprises," Petty told NASCAR.com on Monday. "When they did their deal and sold to Boston Ventures, Chad [McCumbee] was going to drive the second car and Bobby [Labonte] was going to drive the first car; they pretty much let me know there wasn't a place for me there going into '09. My deal runs out at the end of the year, but I don't go over there [to the shop in Mooresville, N.C.] because I don't work there."

As seen here.

I heard that quote yesterday morning on my way to the sitter's house and I almost wrecked the dang car, I was THAT shocked. SHOCKED!

Taking a Petty out of THE Petty, you might as well just give them all VW Beetle Bugs to race around in.

Best. Headline. EVAR.

Can Obama Escape the Taint of Blagojevich? (seen here)

Why is he that close? See "taint" at Urband Dictionary.

Seriously - did NO ONE read that headline outloud before press time?

Day two: The Reckoning

So....I got my car crash money today. I wish I could say it was a pleasant experience.

I can't, so I won't.

How very interesting that Daddy is a body man and that "it can just be buffed out." You can't buff out a dent, dude. Not that it's a major dent but it's a dent still the same.

This is the only new car I've ever bought. After realizing just what the hell buying a new car really means ($$ over time) I will never do so again. And as I'm VERY close to making the last payment, I'm looking forward to driving this car for a very, very, VERY long time. I would not look forward to driving it around with a buffed out dent.

Daddy questioned me on how many estimates I got. Well, I got one estimate. One. From the shop of my choice. Is it rude of me to believe that if "we want to pay this, not file insurance" then I should be able to do all the damned legwork at MY leisure and do business with who I want to?

Also he didn't seem very happy about my choice of shop. They probably are a little more expensive, I don't doubt it. My company has used them in the past and when I had to have work done, I used them as well. I was very pleased so naturally, I would return to the same company. Only this time I had to have cash in hand and go thru all the paperwork b/s. MY leisure.

I find it weird that almost as soon as they walked in, Mommy made note to tell me she's not Jackass's mom but Daddy's Girlfriend. Am I busted? Was I Facebooked or Myspaced from the "Record of Collision?" Did they read yesterday's blog? But all I can say to Girlfriend is BLESS YOUR HEART for loving such a peach of a man that Daddy is (or at least seemed to be today).

I'm not happy in the fact that they came to pay up for Jackass's mistake and now I'm the one who feels like an ass. I WAS NICE. I TYPED A STATEMENT SAYING I GOT THE MONEY. I MADE COPIES. Color copies, dammit.

Jackass, so sorry this happened. I hope you will very seriously consider your left-hand turns from this day forward. After today's pleasantry, I can only hope that things get better for you. I hope you pay your dad back quickly and get this all behind you.

Unless you have a crazy driving record....personally, I would have taken the insurance hit. It only stings for a bit and when the monthly statement comes once a month it doesn't have jet-black sideburns and an icy-cold stare.

FAIL: Driving down Main Street

So I'm on my way to the post office and BLAM! A dude in a truck decided he and I needed to play bumper cars.

Truck dude was making a LEFT out of a parking lot onto Main Street. We have those lovely TURN LANES in the middle of the road so I thought he was going to whip it into the turn lane and wait for me to pass by before he got into the right (my) lane.

PSYCHE!!! He wasn't trying to get into the turn lane, he was bringing it on out. Out and right into my rear quarter panel.

Awesome.

The crash was not very hard, hard enough to know jackass made contact but it didn't push me over onto the street curb.

I pulled over into the parking lot of EVERYBODY EATS HERE FOR LUNCH buffet place and called 911. I call bossman to let him know I'll be a while. I call Husband to share my exciting news.

Jackass and I make idle chit cat waiting for the poe leece to arrive.

Jackass proceeds to tell me he didn't see me. Um...YO! DOG! I'm driving an SUV, what did you NOT see? The he tries to tell me that he thought I was further back in traffic. I fight every fiber of my being to not shout GET YOUR DAMNED PRESCRIPTION CHECKED!! into his coke-bottle glassed eyes.

Based on the "didn't see" excuse he gave and the fact we're sitting here as a result of a LEFT TURN gone wrong, I politely tell jackass that if I'd been riding a motorcycle when he'd turned left into me I'd be dead. Jackass tries to tell me, "Oh no, you'd probably just fall over and get a little dinged up. I have bikers in my family." To that little tid bit, I add, "Well Jackass, one of my very bestest girlfriends was killed when a driver turned left into her. She did not get banged up, her guts were squished up into her body and she died." I decided I'm done talking to Jackass.

Then his mom shows up.

His MOM.

And the poe leece arrive. TWO CARS! I tell 911 there's no injuries, both vehicles run and still they send two cars.

Of course, the poe leece DO NOT give Jackass a ticket. We're both given one of these lovely "Record of Collision" reports. "Vehicle #1 was traveling North in Northbound land when Vehicle #2 pulled out of Duffer's and merged into the back side of #1."

Jackass's mommy inspects the damage and proclaims there's hardly any damage. Mommy informs me that Daddy would rather pay for the repair instead of filing insurance. Mommy gives me cell phone numbers of Mommy and Daddy and we part ways.

According to the collision report, Jackass is 19. He was born the summer I graduated from high school. The ONLY car crash I've caused happened when I was 19. And it was something stupid just like Jackass.

I was pulling a left from a side street into a 4 lane highway. I pulled into the lane closest to me but I hung out the front end a tad too much into the right lane and hit the back tire of a four-door sedan full of old folks. I cried so hard because I was so worried about those old folks. They were awesome and polite to me. My mommy did not have to come to the crash scene. My parents didn't pay for my mistake. I paid some pretty good insurance premiums for a while but that's the point, right? There's a penalty for YOU when YOU screw up.

I have not caused a crash since. I learned.

When mommy brings me a check from Daddy tomorrow, what is Jackass going to learn?

Making new friends

When I was a Camp Fire girl we used to sing this song:

Make new friends but keep the old;
One is silver and the other's A NASCAR DRIVER

Well, it didn't go exactly like that, but you get the idea.

I've been thinking about some friends from long ago and I finally started a Facebook account. I thought maybe I could find my old friends and maybe someone is actually looking for me.

Don't laugh - but I currently only have three friends.

1) She who brought the crazy from the first day I met her. She was the ONLY person who talked to me the day I was the new kid at school.

2) She who's parents live on the end of my street. And married one of the hottest guys in our class. Way to go sister!

3) He who drives fast.

That's right. I'M TOTALLY FRIENDS WITH CHAD MCCUMBEE!! How kick ass is that?

(And how disappointing - even at Nascar.com the truck drivers continue to get the shaft. The cup drivers have snappy photo links, trucks just get a text listing. GGRR!!!)

The trucks are WAY more exciting than the cars (cup or nationwide) and as a fan of said racing, they're ALWAYS getting the shaft from the publicity team.

When I saw him in the "friends of your friends that you may know" list I was psyched.

This is going to be long and complicated but stay with me. My neighbor lady's first husband (and oldest 2 children) are somehow related to Chad's wife (I think). The children went to Chad's wedding last year and I got to see their photos. Freakin' awesome.

I thought about saying something about the wedding that in my "hey I want to be your friend" comment but I thought that might be too stalkery. So I told the rest of the truth: We dig watching you race trucks, we get psyched when you're driving cars and thanks for making Brunswick County proud.

When he first started in the truck series I begged, BEGGED for our company to toss him some sponsorship money. The company entertains clients at a lot of races and I figured they'd love it. I figured wrong and I was SO disappointed.

If I ever hit the lottery I know where my money is going...ON CHAD'S TRUCK. Even if it's only enough for one race.

Road Rage

It’s no secret that I hate driving. Well, I actually love to drive but I HATE the jerks I’m sharing the road with. I often find myself wanting to write a letter to the editor but I’m so very afraid my letter will turn into a Unabomber-type manifesto. I live in a smallish town so I’m not looking to be labeled as “that crazy letter-writin’ lady” and getting stared down at the Walmart. Not for that reason anyways.

But you people seriously make me CRAZY!

Tuesday, there was a wreck at an intersection on the backroads of town. The speed limit is only 35 where this crash occurred so I’m really curious to know exactly what happened in the collision to cause an AMBULANCE to turn over on it’s side and a small car turn into a pile of scrap metal.

At least the ambulance was not in service with a patient when the crash occurred. That’s having a really bad day…a ride in an ambulance – THAT CRASHES! Eek!

There were two folks in the ambulance, riding up front and two folks in the, what used to be, a Nissan. Everyone went to the hospital and one of them was airlifted to the “dude, you got some serious crap WRONG with you” hospital in the big city.

I’ll repeat: The speed limit at this intersection is 35 miles per hour.

I read today’s smallish town newspaper and the Board of Aldermen are already talking about converting this intersection (and it’s bastard cousin one block prior) to a four-way stop. Dammit man – these idiots can’t even drive 35 mph and obey a stop sign – now you want to insert some right of way rules here? Are you crazy!?

One Alderman lives between the two intersections and says this is the third crash at this intersection in five weeks. He proclaims it to be the most dangerous intersections in town.

I call BULLSHIT on that one.

It’s not the intersection. It’s the same damn intersection and stop sign that’s been there for at least the past 30 years. Granted, the town or DOT gets lazy and lets the trash vines grow up the pole in the spring but I’ve never seen it cover the sign.

The problem is a bad driver problem.

The ambulance was probably going to pick up a patient at the nursing home or the assisted living place. The ambulance would have been driving on the road that had the right of way. The car must have been the one who ignored the stop sign.

Was the Nissan driver: On the cell phone? Listening to the GPS lady? Talking to the passenger?

One thing is sure; the Nissan driver was NOT paying attention to DRIVING. That’s what the magic box on wheels does. You turn the big circle and mash the pedals. YOU direct where it’s going. Unless you’re too busy doing something else, like not driving.

And now we have a GOVERNMENT trying to save the CITIZENS from STUPID. What ever happened to personal responsibility?

When I was in high school, a classmate ran a stop sign and crashed her car at the bastard cousin intersection. She got messed up pretty bad too, as in had to relearn to walk and miss the prom bad. Her smashed up car was on display in the quad for us to see. I’m sorry she was hurt but I am so thankful she lived and shared a lesson with all of us. I often think of her when I stop at that intersection.

And the big boys started Driver’s Ed classes today.

The big boys who can’t comprehend that when they walk to the trash can and it’s full, they should empty it instead of smashing shit further into the can. The big boys who can’t remember to put the trash on the curb on trash day. The big boys who can’t remember to bring school paperwork home. The big boys who get ZEROs on open-note tests. Dude, seriously? It’s OPEN NOTE!!

And now they want to drive cars. SIGH.

Rewind it

Elder spawn, Husband and I were watching something on the TV this weekend. Something happened and we wished we could have rewinded what we were seeing.

Elder spawn: Too bad we can't rewind that.

Husband: We need a Devo.

Me: So we can whip it good?

IT'S WEDNESDAY!!!!

It took ALL DAMN WEEK, but Wednesday is finally here. The season finale of Sons of Anarchy is tonight. I think I have "life" situated so I'll be more than ready at 10:00.

Dinner will be quick and dirty, Junior will be in the express bathtub line. The only loose end is one of the big boys is out with a friend and isn't supposed to be home until 10:00. If he breaks curfew and I have to lecture during my SOA time....someone is going to be picking up dead leaves in the yard AND the spare lot. With a pair of chopsticks.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I'm glad. We're having a late dinner this year - like 6:00 feed bag time late. So HOORAY I get to sleep in tomorrow instead of waking up in a panic trying to get things done. Also, Thanksgiving is NOT at my house this year so I really don't have much to worry about except being at Mom & Dad's by 4:00.

I'm bringing to the meal:

• Punch - the drinking kind. Hardly as much fun as the other kind of punch but generally safer around the childrens. I hunted down (like it was an animal) a punch fountain a few years ago and it's the best damned $20 I have ever spent on punch. The fountain has three tiers and lights (!!) so even if you're only serving Kool-aid...it looks spectacular! When I make Christmas punch (for adults only) the streams of the fountain make big ol' foamy boob looking blobs in the bowl. You know its a party when there's light-up boobies in the punch.
• Green Bean Casserole - just like all the other years. Hey, it's a classic, a favorite and a "safe" side dish (as opposed to a Nasty-Assery "casserole"). This year Alton Brown has inspired - maybe even challenged - me to make it from scritchety-scratch. I'm a bit nervous because GBC is a staple and how the hell can you mess up a holiday staple and not manage to melt and pour into the nearest a/c vent after dinner should there be an issue with said casserole you prepared. Here me now Lowe's Foods: If you don't have panko bread crumbs on your shelf when I arrive this evening....someone is getting hurt.
• Sweet Tea - made with real sugar, brewed in a metal pot on the stove then lovingly dumped into my construction-type dispenser cooler. It's only two gallons so I'm hoping that's enough. Heck, I can drink a gallon a day by myself. Sweet tea is a drug.
• Kid table - easy AND stress reducing. Just rip (screw) legs off and toss into the back of the car.
• Kid stuff - MY FAVORITE!!! I bought about $50 worth of Dollar Tree arts and craft supplies during the July 4th family gathering. I never had so much fun with pipe cleaners, googly eyes, foam shaped sticky things, scissors and glue. I think my nieces and nephews had fun too. When I wasn't pushing them out of my way and hoarding all the sparkly pieces for my project. Oh come on now, I didn't push them that hard. I think Nana and Mr. Grandpa need a collage of home-made turkey hands on their shiny new fridge.

Here's to hoping you have a Happy Thanksgiving and you get what you want out of the SOA finale. If Tig doesn't bite the big one or at least get severely maimed I think it will have a direct effect on my Green Bean Casserole. Then....my lovely Tig....YOUR ASS IS MINE!!!

Roomba Cat

Dear Mom and Dad,

You have a video camera. You have three animals at home: a cat and two dogs that very strangely resemble your children's personalities and the pets arrived in the same damn order that your children did. (so very weird!)

You have a new home. With all that new floor. Tons-o-floor.

If you don't get a Roomba and then make videos to amuse me....I'm kidnapping the cat and leaving Junior with you.

Hey yall!

Thank you Mr. Motorcycle for linking to my SOA post. (LOOK MA! I GOTS A LINK!!) And thank you Google Reader for finding Mr. Motorcycle for me! His blog is the first one I've found that discusses the show and I've enjoyed digging thru his archives and remembering things I've forgotten. Too bad FX didn't run a marathon this weekend so we'd be good and SOA'd up for this Wednesday's finale.

While I have new scoot friends visiting my ramblings, can I please invite you to, if you're not doing so already, support the MRF. Here are 10 reasons why you should join that I stole (!!) from my friend Vinny's website because 1) I'm too lazy to write my own diatribe and 2) if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

10 Reasons why you should join the MRF:

10) They are fighting to make sure your medical claims are paid by your insurance companies.

9) They are fighting to secure funding for rider training.

8) They are fighting to secure funding to fix pot holes and other road hazards.

7) They are fighting for your right to modify your bike.

6) We need to help them fund a office and lobbyist in Washington, DC so they can continue the fight.

5) They support us on state level legislation.

4) They have been OUR federal MRO since 1984!

3) They are well organized, efficiently managed, and will work to provide a safer riding future for all of us.

2) You will get another patch and pin for your vest, along with a newsletter.

1) For $30 you can support motorcycle awareness, safety, education, and contribute to the growth of motorcycling in America!

www.MRF.org

Thirty dollars folks. What's that...a rally tshirt and two beers?

In 2000 I was blessed to be included on a SMRO sponsored lobby trip to DC. The MRF works hard, those were some of the busiest 4 days I ever spent in MY LIFE. It's very special to see the machine in action with your own eyes. And it kicks ass to walk into your state's offices and introduce the MRF to YOUR Senator or Congressman. "Yo, I'm from back home and this guy KNOWS what I want. When he asks, you listen. You act...FOR ME."

When I re-upped my membership this year, I tossed in an additional $10 donation and today I received a letter of thanks from Kirk Willard, MRF President and it included a kick ass MRF Freedom Fighter sticker. If you can, don't forget to include a little extra donation. They're worth it and SO ARE YOU!

So go out there and get MRF'd up!

Be a part of the solution!!

How much is too much?

From the time the previews started airing in early summer, I knew I was going to watch Sons of Anarchy on FX. I'm a huge fan of Nip/Tuck and I assumed that SOA would be just as good as N/T and SOA was based on an m/c so I knew it would keep my attention.

(I am a member of an SMRO which is so very NOT anything like an m/c but I am down with motorcycles and brotherhood. I've read a few club books so I have an idea of m/c culture. An idea. No real clue because I've not been there, but an idea. Not trying to go there either. Mommy likey scoots is the point I'm trying to make here.)

I have so thoroughly enjoyed watching Sons of Anarchy this season. I had to watch the majority of this season by myself. After the show started in September, the husband shipped out to Texas for work. Unfortunately, he was without TV for a few weeks and when he finally did get moved into a TV friendly area, no FX so he's not been able to keep up with the show. Poor husband, he really missed out. He's been home for two episodes now and he's so sorry he missed out. We'll be renting the series on Netflix for sure.

So I watched the majority of the series by myself, completely immersed. No pesky husband bothering me, talking/asking questions when I'm trying to listen, no nudge-nudge, wink-wink. Just me and SAMCRO all cuddled up in the bed every Wednesday night at 10:00 pm. Sometimes I'd watch again at 11:00 pm. I usually watch reruns on hulu.com too...just to be sure I didn't miss anything important.

And there are many plot lines to follow but the one that has struck me the most is Opie and Donna. I've always thought about how potentially difficult it could be to raise a family in an m/c. Opie just pulled 5 years in jail and has returned home to do-it-all Donna and two kids. Opie landed in jail because a brother-turned-rat testified against him. (wicked revenge on said rat ensues - WICKED I tell you!!) Donna is pissed because she sees that she lost her husband to the club's business and consequence. I'm sure the club helped her out when she needed it, Gemma bought her some groceries at least once this season. But basically Donna hates the club.

Opie walks the fine line upon arriving at home. Working a "real" job at the mill. The job he hates. The job that barely puts money on the table. Opie comes around the m/c in a limited capacity, minding his parole status to keep out of trouble.

Opie struggles. He loves Donna and his children, he has a burning desire to take care of them and make up for the last 5 years he's been gone. Opie has the uncomfortable "do I still fit in here" vibe both at home and at the m/c. In a manly way, Opie shares his struggle with Jax and they have some (what I like to call) bro-mantic conversations.

Bills are falling behind, Donna continues to bitch about money and the club. Donna starts packing her shit telling Opie she's leaving, she can't take it anymore. "It's me and the kids or the club."

And Opie opens up the dam on her....and I get all big-eyed and lean forward...

Opie lets his quiet rage open to Donna and he tells her he's not leaving the club. He is a brother and he loves his club. He is a father and he loves his children. He is a husband and he loves his wife. That's why he does all these things, love and income. Opie pretty much tells her, "I love you, I love my kids, I love my club. The club puts good money on the table. The club makes me happy, it's where I belong. I do these things to take care of you and the kids. I LOVE YOU AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN YOU CAN LEAVE." Opie then plops down a fat envelope of cash on the kitchen table and leaves.

I. So. Swoon. Hooray Opie! Hooray love! Hooray for love from a big ol' burly biker.

Then that ATF bitch screws every damn thing up. Oh how I loathe her. I giggled with GLEE when Otto dribbled her head like a basketball on the interrogation room table. Best basketball game I ever saw.

ATF bitch sets up Opie to look like he's ratted on the club. Balls-out set up at that. Swoops the whole family up to some kind of witness protection program clearing house center, pays off huge chunks of debt for Opie. Opie and Donna stand together strong against the ATF and are eventually allowed to return home. Opie goes home with a bug in his cell phone and his truck. Tig finds said bugs, tells Clay and the two of them are convinced Opie's ratting and decide to knock off Opie.

AFTER Opie saves Tig's (WORTHLESS!!) hide in a transaction gone wrong and pops a cap in a dude's ass to keep Tig (who is scared of DOLLS!) from taking a bullet in the head, Tig has the nerve to DRAW a shot in the back of Opie's head but can't do it. Opie just saved his life.

I don't remember what Tig told Clay about the failed hit but they decide to try again later that evening after Abel's welcome home party.

As Opie and Donna are leaving the party, Donna decides she wants to stay and help Gemma clean up. Opie agrees to take the kids home. They switch cars.

I'm yelling, "No! No! Don't switch cars!! Don't LEAVE. Stay at the party!!" Of course they don't listen to me and Donna gets machine gunned down by Tig as she's driving Opie's truck to the store to buy some cleaning supplies.

I am so heartbroken. Opie and Donna were in a good place. Their love and commitment to family AND CLUB was just reaffirmed. Written in stone and carved in ink. DAMMIT MAN!!

Oh I was so upset. I was trying not to cry, I could tell the ugly cry was coming on. My throat grew a huge ball in it, eyes watered, nose got runny. I was trying to stay quiet so I could hear the TV (oh yeah....it's just TV) but they started playing that damn sad music and I just quit fighting. Tears rolled.

They cut to a scene of Tig and he was bleeding from his forehead (more like a FIVEhead) and husband said, "He shot himself!" and I just blurted out a crying "GOOD!"

I still think about it. Stupid ATF Lady, bastard Tig, shithead Clay. ARG!

And this morning on the way to work...I saw a car just like Donna's and all those feelings rushed back. Dammit. It's JUST A TV SHOW!

Judging from next week's previews I don't think Tig shot himself but I do believe Jax will be doing some serious avenging next week.

Is it Wednesday yet?

Music Tames the Savage Beast

UPDATE: I just checked One Minute Writer and today's word was LISTEN. Write about what you hear right now. Thanks C. Beth - I just did that! Two birds with ONE stone!!

==========================================

This is what kept me from killing you dumbasses driving down Main Street today. You can thank my boyfriend, Da Bone, for your safety. You might want to send the DOT a thank you card for continuing to outlaw dash-mounted assault rifles as well.

CRANK IT UP!!







Also, I'd like to NOT thank the dumbass at Hardee's for giving me DIET Coke instead of REAL Coke. So glad I upsized YOU GIANT ASS!!

WOOT OFF!

Yesterday I'd been feeling pretty bad about my production at work. Or rather, LACK OF production. So I got busy and actually did work. Papers were scanned, filed, copied, stapled and done. I attribute all of this work action to the action of turning on the light in my office.

You read that right, I actually TURNED ON THE LIGHT in my office.

Bossman has me in a bad habit of working in a damned cave. No overhead lights and only desk lamps. Which truly is nice, cozy and pretty laid back. It's just too laid back for me...if you actually expect me to work. (Don't forget, bossman also hooked me up with cable TV and Netflix will let me watch movies instantly(!) on my computer. I work in the den of lazy.)

I'd been feeling very bad about me because I was being lazy and doing a very bad job for the good money they pay me. I felt like I'd been stealing - most likely because I had.

So I turned the lights on (take THAT bossman!) and got productive. I came in this morning and turned the light on, preparing for a nice productive Wednesday, at least until I take the big boys to the dentist (a.k.a. paid torture - well spent money!!) this afternoon.

And continue morning ritual:

• Turn on the heat (you could hang meat in here in the winter time!)
• Make coffee
• Fire up computer
• Browse Google Reader to see who's saying what today
• Check email

In email box I find email from WOOT! and this can only mean one thing:

WOOT! OFF!!

DAMMIT!! I just vowed to be a good productive girl. I turned the corner. I was productive. I desired repeat performance today. I thought about and planned what I would do at my magic desk today. I had goals and "where's my damn money" phone calls to make. (I will still make the calls, I gotta make sure I get paid to do nothing around here, right?)

They've already sold the mini SD cards and Leakfrogs. DOUBLE DAMN!! I'll light a candle for the Bag of Crap and hope to score three.

I have no willpower. I'm wooting. F5 to you!!

Boob Shaper

Good story about children finding adult things here.

Story also contains new (to me!) and interesting product.

If this concept has been around since the 30's....WHY THE HELL DIDN'T SOMEONE SAY SO??!!??

• I can save $120 PER YEAR on that area down there.
• I don't have to deal with that area down there except 2 or 3 times a day.
• No leaks!
• I don't have to carry drumsticks around with me.
• No more toilet panic. Will it flush???

As I noticed in Tanis' comments a lot of folks were all "eewww!" and some were even female "eewww"-ers. Clearly these folks did not watch "Dirty Oprah" a few weeks ago. I'm not all "do what Oprah says" and I really only watch her show once or twice a week. (Oprah airs the same time as my precious hottie, Hank Hill. Guess who wins most of the time?) But I saw the previews and the show did NOT disappoint.

And the show did hit pretty damn close to home. Controlling woman/mother and docile husband in couples therapy. (I know...mirror much, anyone?) They were part of some series on Showtime I think and it was very interesting to see a portion of what they went thru.

What I took from the show:

• I should let the husband drive (the car) more often. I believe the term used was "surrender control." Can you hear my ego being crushed from there?

Also, lots of folks don't pay attention to their bodies, the sexual parts. Or at least let on that they do. I know this Diva Cup thing will be something new to get used to and there will be lots of looking, poking and prodding in that area down there to get it right. Big deal. Everything has a learning curve.

Even when you took Driver's Ed - they put you in the seat with the wheel but the instructor still has a pedal on his side to brake-check your ass for driving thru empty parking spaces.

So easy, a child could use it

I had some time to kill yesterday afternoon so Junior and I stopped by my parents' house on the way home. While Mom was digging thru her beads Junior found a small calculator with a key ring on it. Mom said he could have it and Junior was very pleased with Nana AND his find.

He started playing "scheduler" immediately. "It's my scheduler Mama!" How in the hell does this child have the word scheduler in his vocabulary? He's three and can't find his shoes most of the time.

We still had to stop by the grocery store so we didn't stay at Nana and Mr. Grandpa's house too long. We make it to the (second!) grocery store stop and as I'm walking Junior down the meat isle, I noticed he was sitting in the buggy, holding his "scheduler" near his mouth and saying, "Milk, eggs, butter."



He forgot the juice but I give him a solid 10 for presentation and form.

So the big question is.....does this behavior present itself due to:

• Bad parenting / too much TV
• Good marketing / irritating commercials!!
• Good imagination / at least he wasn't licking the damned cart handle (again, UGH!)

I'm settling for D, all of the above. Trust me, if you knew Junior and he was your charge for more than 30 minutes....you'd go with D too!

Banjo of Consternation

My Bag O Crap arrived today - A DAY EARLY. WOO HOO.

I probably should have brought the camera in so I could post photos but I really wasn't planning on seeing it today so...onto the crap I got!

• (1) SOYO FreeStyler 500 Bluetooth V1.2 Headset: I can't try this out with the new phone yet because it's supposed to charge for SIX HOURS the first time. GAH! Can't play with new toy!!
• (6) iGo Universal Wall Power Adapter: Yeah, 6 of em. And the best part - they DON'T come with the tips. You must buy tips separately. Six with no tips. Let's all say it together: YANKEE SWAP!!
• (1) JVC Carrying Bag: This is awesome. I don't have a camcorder to put inside of it but the bag is roomy enough to hold all of my camera paraphernalia. The bag has a loop on the back of it so you can put your belt thru it and have a HUGE fanny pack.
• (17) bags of Woot poots: All but 3 were intact. I will save these for husband since he'll be coming home from Texas next week and lord knows - he's still not tired of Texas after being there since September 13th. [sarcasm mode OFF]
• (1) Tornado Spray Jet Wash Gun WITH six spray patterns: Who the hell told Woot! that I needed to wash my car? Will I be prosecuted for bathing Junior in this same manner? If so, how long? I could use a vacation.

Well that was an awesome haul. No mini SD card or Sansas but I think the blue tooth makes up for that. I'll try again for my second crap on the next Woot! Off. Should be in a couple of weeks.

Y'all should think good thoughts for me because I'll most likely be giving unwanted craps to you for Christmas. Woot! craps, not the other kind of craps. Unless you've been VERY naughty!

OMW: Child

Today's prompt: What affect has a child, whether yours or someone else's, had on your life?

I am a god-mother. A Fairy God-mother on good days. I had a good day Sunday. My godchild had her ears pierced ... again.

Her birthday party was the weekend before Halloween. I try to never buy her clothes because I want her to wear what she wants to wear, not what I pick out. She was getting a Nintendo DS thing from her parents so I opted to go with a $50 gift card from Walmart for her gift. I'd also cleaned out my jewelry drawer this summer and had collected a small bag of trinkets I was finally OK parting with as I think she's at an age she'll start caring for things a bit better.

One of the items in the jewelry was a pink and blue necklace and earring set from Avon. Every time I would wear it she would always comment on how much she liked them. I thought her ears were still pierced so when she opened the box and saw what I had given her she was sad that she'd let her ears grow over.

She managed to score a few more gift cards and some cash as well. This past Sunday we all headed to Wallyworld and she had her ears re-pierced. I even go to help her pick out which studs she was going to get. She got the nice sparkly ones that seem to flash a bit of color, even though they're white. What a tough girl, she didn't even cry. She did flinch and give a surprising "OH!" face when the second ear was done.

=============================

I would post the photo but I still don't have a mini-SD card in my new phone. Also, I have not yet received my Woot! crap yet. It's scheduled to be delivered to the office Saturday (how convenient GRR!). Some folks have received some mini-SD's in their boxes so I'm holding out hope that my seven pound crap will contain said goodies. Everyone seems to be getting the Tornado water sprayers, old-as-dirt PC joysticks and some kind of USB phone thing that makes your phone jacks make a network to share Internet access. Can't complain for what $8 is going to buy you, even if it is from 1992. Some of the folks have received letters from the Woot! Gods in their crap. One of them is expecting a 250 lb shipment to be delivered! How exciting!!

OMW: Jeopardy!

Today's prompt is:
If you were on the game show Jeopardy!, what interesting story would you tell to introduce yourself?

Alex: Welcome to the show Jocelyn. It says here that you're a Professional Man-Sitter. Can you please detail what that means?

Jocelyn: Well Alex, I am the office manager at my company's southeastern NC branch office. All our employees at this location are male. I'm also married and have three boys at home. So all day, all night (all long!) I am surrounded by men. The majority of these men act as if I'm they're mother and I must tend to their every whim, question and need. It's a good thing they pay me well.

Alex: Wow, that's a lot of time to be surrounded by men. What was your previous job?

Jocelyn: Previously I was a marketing manager for a real estate firm in a gated golf community.

Alex: That sounds luxurious and exciting.

Jocelyn: It is unless the office is full of bitchy hateful women and the big boss is a cunt.

Alex: You sound bitter, Jocelyn.

Jocelyn: Oh, I'm not bitter Alex. That "experience" was one of the greatest life-lessons I've ever lived thru.

Of course, I would never let Alex know that I once let a man convince me that I was not smart enough to take the contestant exam. The Jeopardy! team was in my neighboring big town and I let the bastard talk me out of going to try out. I was so stupid and weak back then. HRUMPH!

A few years later I did get brave and try out for WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!! the last time Vanna was in her home-town for Sun Fun Festival. That was a ton of fun and I did get a call-back from them to take the real test.

The initial WOF event was a big rally-type thing. You just filled out a basic contestant questionnaire then they hauled everyone into the convention center hall and pulled random names out. I wasn't called up to the stage that day so I believe my call-back was purely rated by my last name. My maiden name is pretty unique. So unique the only other ones in the phone book are my relatives.

The call-back was in a small conference room and had about 50 folks in it. The chairs were lined up like audience chairs and we basically played a bunch of WOF puzzles. Then they busted out with the written test. The written test was HARD. Hard because it's WOF and you SEE these puzzles. Puzzles written out where you have to write in the answers instead of shouting at the TV screen made it difficult for me.

After we finished taking the written exams the day was considered over and as we were headed down the stairs an ambulance crew was headed up the stairs. A fellow try-out had a mild heart attack and had to be taken to the hospital!

Why does the universe like to eat Sharpies, then spit them out?

I usually have a Sharpie on me at all times...because really, you never know when one will come in handy. If it's not on my physical person, there's one in the dash of the car.

Lately it seems that every time I've used a Sharpie, when I retrieve it from it's living place it's not there. I walk from my desk to the supply drawer to fetch a new one and by the time I get back to my desk, there's the original Sharpie.

What's the deal? Is my doppelganger just messing with me? I did buy a box of "industrial" Sharpies. "Specially formulated ink for industrial, commercial and laboratory use. Super-permanent black ink." I'm wondering if they have an auto-cloaking feature too?

One minute.

I recently discovered the "Blogs of Note" section in Blogger. I found a few that are nice to look at and today's blog of note has me psyched. One Minute Writer. I often think to myself "I should write in my blog today" but then I'm blank when I get here. I want to try this so I'll begin today.

Today's prompt is: VOTE. What would I tell an 18-year old American to encourage them to vote today?

And I only have a minute!?!? Ack!

For me, the short answer is: The government considers you an adult. From here on out, there's no more Mom and Dad to hide behind. 18=adult, YOU. You've wanted to be grown for at least the past 5 years and now is your time to be grown. Educate yourself. Ask, ask, and ask questions. Know what you want and research the candidate that fits to your ideals.

In reality, speaking to most 18-year olds you'd need to include a lot of "like"s and "you know"s.

So like The Man is hip to you, you know? He like knows where you live and junk. You can't go out and totally like buy a beer or anything but They still, like want your vote. Do like Diddy and mash a button dude.

I voted last week so I wouldn't have to stand in line today. I've been watching Fox news all day (Don't hate me for cheating, CNN. I just wanted to try it and Fox's boobs are a little bigger than yours.) and now I wished I would have stood in line today. I feel left out. It is rainy today so if I was standing in line I'd have HUGE humidity head so I'm not missing that. But I do feel left out of today's excitement. And I'm totally not getting anything for FREE because I did not vote on today. We're in a small town so we don't even have any of the big stores that are giving free things away so I'm really not missing out. I'm just whining.

BUT I LIKE TOTALLY VOTED DUDE!

Could I be any more scattered today?

I have zero focus today. Zero focus to task anyway.

I haven't had any pepper jack cheese in a while so I bought an 8 oz block yesterday along with some wheat crackers. Very tasty. I sat and read all the stuff in my reader and managed to eat almost 3 ounces of cheese without blinking an eye. How the hell does that happen? And what kind of price will I pay for that? I was going to make spaghetti for dinner but I think I might need to "Eat Fresh" and have spinach salad for dinner. Cheese shots and a spinach chaser should stop any ... stoppages from eating too much cheese.


I'm having a Weight Watchers Smart Ones for lunch. Home Style Beef Pot Roast. This is one of my favorites and today it seems to have a billion carrots in it. I don't have a problem eating carrots but DAMN, can I get a few more green beans to balance out all the damned orange? There's only 8 green beans. 8!! Also, it's 2:00, a little past lunch time but I did have to wait for the cheese to go down a bit and I didn't really get hungry until now.


Getting hungry. With all the doctor business and test results and needing to lose weight - it cracks me up when I DO get hungry because for a long time, I didn't wait to get hungry to eat. I just ate. "That looks good, I'm going to eat it." Terrible way to live folks. It's not terrible, it is actually quite tasty, it's just not right. I'm getting reacquainted with "hungry."


I ran into an old friend at Walmart yesterday. She told me of a classmate's passing and that was not fun. He was only 37, just a few weeks older than me. Left behind a wife and two kids. I can't imagine how horrible that must be to survive your husband passing so soon in life. There must be a ton of paperwork to deal with. He had some time in the military so hopefully his widow got one of those "I'm here to help you thru this" guys. I know I had not seen him since high school so the picture in my mind was very different from his obit photo. He looked VERY foreign from my mind's eye. I wonder how the class of 89 will look when we have the next reunion - twenty years later.


I think Junior had a good Halloween. Husband is still out of town so that left the two of us to celebrate (the big boys went to a lock-in at the church). Our neighbors joined us for the walk up and down the street for Trick or Treating. Only 4 houses were open/on/passing out candy and that was a real bummer. A bummer for me, Junior still doesn't quite know the difference. He had a much better time giving out candy. We did manage to get a whole 11ish kids by the house. I counted the kids as they walked up the driveway and gave Junior the goodie bags to pass out. As soon as I opened the door he would ask, "WHAT YOU NAME?" and if they didn't answer - he just kept asking until they'd eek out a reply. He'd toss their treat in the sack and say, "Happy Halloween" and everyone was happy.


Mr. Tat Cat kicked the bucket last week. He'd been acting "off" and he was either 15 or 16, pretty damned old for a cat who lived outside. He spent a day or two sleeping in my bed, highly affectionate in his final days so I was not caught completely off guard when the neighbor called. She found him in her backyard, one of his favorite places to be. We buried him under the nicest tree in the spare lot. Thanks for the good times Tat, you'll be missed.


Falling back always makes me happy. This is the one time of year I feel rested. The clock is my friend, it's not yelling at me to get the hell out of the bed and on with your day! I feel awake when it's time to wake up. Junior passed out before I could get him in the bathtub (How's that "I'm NOT taking a nap!" program working for you NOW sucker!?) last night so I had to get him up early to get the stink off of him. He was pleasant this morning until I put raisins in his oatmeal. As I was trying to shower and get dressed he came in about 48 times to tell me, "No raisins, MOM!" To which I replied, "I'm sorry, you'll just have to eat around the raisins." The first time. The other 47 times I shooed him out and told him to go eat. When it was time to leave the house the oatmeal AND raisins were gone. Ha ha! You ate it.


Carl Edwards kicked some ass in Texas yesterday. Serious ass. His gas/math nerds earned their money. I hope he does well at Atlanta too. I do not want to see JJ get 3 in a row. That'd just be rude. I worked in the house a lot during the race but the last 50 or so laps I was glued to the tv. Damn good race. Thanks Carl!

I'm annoyed.

My cell phone finally died. The diagnosis at the cellphone store was "water damage" because the little pads on the battery and inside the phone had turned bright pink. I know that water and technology don't always mix but I am fairly certain I'm smart enough to recognize water damaging my phone.

Previously, I dropped the phone off the balcony at the office. Not on purpose - I just fumbled when I was putting the phone back in my holster. Really, pinkie swear. The drop caused the phone to power off and it did come right back on and did work. This happened summer '07.

It is now fall '08 and I had water damage. Whatever.

After riding the corporate roller coaster of procuring a new cell phone I was finally given a comb to fix my hair and permission to get a new phone. Of course, because technology moves so fast, I could not just get another phone just like the security blanket I had. I loved the LG with it's loud tones - perfect for the alarm settings that I used EVERY day for just about anything. Bye bye Monopoly game, thanks for releasing me from your slavery-like grip and making me once again productive to The Man. (Or maybe not, there's always the inter webs to keep me in mind-warping slacker-shape.)

I got the Samsung Muse as a replacement. It's a nice phone. It's pretty. It's blue. If you put a mini SD card in it, you can use it as an MP3 player as well. It has that blue tooth Star Trek-y option available. It also has a nice camera for photos and videos. Voice recordings are available too.

Let's talk about the camera for a minute. While I was reading the manual I noticed in the camera section they specifically mention the phone's shiny, mirror-like exterior and that while taking a self-portrait I should make sure my reflection is between the two speaker holes. 'Cause I got nothing better to do but take pics of myself to keep my My Space page current. So this Muse allows me to keep the pervs entertained BUT I CAN'T PLAY MONOPOLY ANY MORE.

Something else annoying about this new phone...very specifically on the back of the phone where it should naturally cradle in your hand as you talk, is a sticker and it says:

---Internal Antenna Area---
For best performance, Do NOT touch this area when using your phone.

WHAT!!?? I'm not supposed to touch the phone where I'm supposed to hold it? Are you serious? Who makes these phones? Monkeys?

Wildcat

According to the youniverse, I'm a wildcat.

Be sure to take the test. It's interesting and the photos are nice. They have a bunch of other tests as well.

Yes, my bedroom is messy but I was being honest. That's how it is, not how I would like it to be. I'm pretty sure the closet, dresser and laundry hamper have these parties at the house during the day when we're all out. They raid the liquor cabinet, lay out my clothes and shoes in various combinations (most likely they're mocking me) then vomit all over the damn floor. Lazy bastards.

Crapfest!

My mom called this morning and invited me out to lunch with her and a friend. We ate skrimps and drank sweet tea. I feel like I could burst.

When I got back to the office I checked on the Woot off and I missed the Bandolier of Carrots. I've been drooling over this ever since I found Woot. I've been trying VERY hard the last 18 months but not so hard that I'm awake every night at midnight CST (that's 1 am here) just to see if I can score a box of crap for $1. Good things come to her that waits, right?

I was bummed but I had good sisterhood and good food at lunch. Remembering the nice time we had and belching hushpuppies made missing the BOC all better.

Woot kept selling stuff and in about another hour the Woot powers that be bestowed us with another Random Crap opportunity. The last time I had a shot at winning the Crap I was at work on my old SLOW computer. Today's crap was offered on the "new to me" computer that was rescued from the storage closet of the home office. I wasn't expecting to score any crap so I pushed the big I WANT ONE! button and didn't put much faith into it.

BUT I DID SCORE! And I scored BIG. I got three craps total. THREE!! I'm such a nerd....A nerd with CRAP! I still don't have any shipping info updated to my account so now I must wait with my face pressed against the front door glass for the delivery man.

Visit Woot! you'll like it.

Moose Shooter

Freakin' AWESOME! Not only did Amy Poehler knock it out of the park but she did it VERY knocked up! So glad I stayed up to watch, I really enjoyed it. Here's the words so you can sing along. NEED MP3 version for player!!!

one two three

my name is sarah palin you all know me
vice president nominee of the gop
gonna need your vote in the next election
can i get a ‘what what’ from the senior section
mccain got experience, mccain got style
but don’t let him freak you out when he tries to smile
cause that smile be creepy
but when i be vp
all the leaders in the world gonna finally meet me

how’s it go eskimo
eskimos
tell me what you know eskimo
eskimos
how you feel eskimo
ice cold
tell me tell me what you feel eskimo
super cold

i’m jeremiah wright cause tonight i’m the preacher
i got a bookish look and you’re all hot for teacher
todd lookin fine on his snow machine
so hot boy gonna need a go between
in wasilla we just chill baby chilla
but when i see oil lets drill baby drill

my country tis of thee
from my porch i can see
russia and such

all the mavericks in the house put your hands up
all the mavericks in the house put your hands up
all the plumbers in the house pull your pants up
all the plumbers in the house pull your pants up

when i say ‘obama’ you say ‘ayers’
obama. ayers. obama. ayers.
i built me a bridge - it ain’t goin’ nowhere.
[ohhh]

mccain, palin, gonna put the nail in the coffin
of the media elite
she likes red meat
shoot a mother humpin moose, eight days of the week

[three gunshots]
now ya dead, now ya dead,
cause i’m an animal, and i’m bigger than you
holdin a shotgun walk in the pub
everybody party, we’re goin on a hunt
la la la la la la la la
[six gunshots]

yo i'm palin, i’m out

Suicidal Cicada

So I'm traveling down the big highway after work, on my way to pick up Junebug.

• Windows down
• Music blaring
• Driving speed limit

I go to pass a slow car that is driving in the FAST lane (JERK!!) and as I'm passing said car, I hear a loud noise like that car kicked up a rock onto my car (bigger JERK!!). I look sternly at slow driver and keep going.

• Windows down
• Music blaring
• Driving speed limit

As I sing (or yell, I was listening to Metallica) and drive I notice I have a STOWAWAY!

There laying on my dashboard just on the left side of the driver's area is a cicada laying on its back, legs up in the air.

And I notice the legs start moving. The highway is busy, it's just past 5:00 and the idiots are loose. Do the speed limit and you will get run over. It's a scary place in the afternoon - mornings too! So I'm watching these legs twitch around and that's when I notice...the cicada is missing it's butt. Hmmm....that is very interesting.


That's what the sound was when I passed the slow car. I ran into a big fat flying cicada. Now the bug is in its death throw right here on my dashboard. See those wings? Yep, if you can move your legs you can most likely move your wings. Remember, I'm running with the fast pack at Talladega, I don't need a freaking BUG to fly up into my face and send us all crashing about and back to the garage for some quarter panel work and a new set of tires.


I conveniently have a balled up piece of trash paper in the console. I scoop up the bug and dump him out of the window. I regret this decision immediately. He would have been a nice trophy to keep. For a while, not ever. (coughdadcough)


So hooray! That bug drama is over. Let's get back to:

• Windows down
• Music blaring
• Driving the speed limit

The wind knocks my curl into my eye so I reach up to push my hair out of my face. I feel my hair is wet. Why is my hair wet? I glance into the mirror to discover

I HAVE CICADA ASS IN MY HAIR!!!

Here's another picture of a cicada. The red circle indicates cicada ass. This is what was IN MY FREAKING HAIR.

I would estimate that I had about a tablespoon of cicada ass in my hair. It was whiteish yellow and disgusting as hell. I began to speed to get where I was going ASAP. I thought about stopping by my parent's house but I wasn't sure they'd be there. I knew I needed backup to get all the ass out of my hair.

I get to the sitter's and run to the bathroom. "Becky! I need your help NOW! Please!!" So Becky made sure all the ass was out of my hair and I washed my hands like I'd just been holding hands with Radium.

I've written about being attacked by killer bugs from outerspace before. And would you like to take a guess at who is headlining the local blues & jazz festival? Go ahead...just guess!

That's right - the gruesome twosome - Johnny and Edgar Winter. Writers and performers of Frankenstein with their creepy synthesizers.

So maybe the cicada was not suicidal after all. He was a kamikaze cicada doing the Winters' dirty work!

Is it Friday yet?

What a crappy day.

1. It's been raining all day thanks to the not tropical storm on the coast. Let's see....lots of wind, lots of rain - how the hell is that NOT tropical? Well, it is a little cold outside. Still, the rain can just knock it the hell off. Really.
2. I'm bored out of my skull.
3. I have 529 things I could (should) be doing but I don't want to and you can't make me.
4. My back hurts. I think my uterus is trying to escape. I keep telling the bitch to just go away, LEAVE, I don't care! But she's full of idle threats. Wuss! (on a side note: HOORAY! That means I'm not pregnant! Not that I was worried about it but I am thankful every. single. time. Aunt Flo shows up.)
5. Nothing interesting on Dr. Phil today. Or TV for that matter.
6. Congress is agreeing to bail those bastards out. Again.
7. Oprah has dancing dogs on and I think I want to drive to Chicago and shoot her. (that was my uterus talking)
8. Oprah does have kick ass hair this season. I really do hate her now. It looked good last year but wow - this year's curls look great. Dear Santa, will you please send me a black gay guy to do my hair everyday?
9. Paying bills today did not make me feel accomplished. Usually it does but not today. I'm blaming the rain. Or possibly my uterus.

So much for #10, I ran out. And I finally found me some Bobby Hill to watch. I reckon I'll sit here and drool at the square box to finish out my work day.

Why must today be so awful?

Oil slicks

These are the best thing EVER! I hardly wear makeup anymore because I'm too lazy to get up 15 minutes earlier than I already do. My face just feels oily by noon, no matter the occasion or application of makeup. So usually after lunch time I whip one of these babies out to mop up my face. I'm so pleased at how much they soak up and my skin feels awesome afterwards. Sometimes I cuddle the box when I'm done. I like them that much.

I used one today, then thought, "Exactly how do these things work?" CUE INTERNET and I landed on epinions because the Clean & Clear website just had some smart-ass paragraph with no real explanation on how they work. I'm looking for a nerd to explain how the sheet is engineered and why touching it to my face sucks the oil off. I'd prefer to see this demonstration on my dad's super big-assed tv, especially after having watched that spider documentary in terrifying clarity.

I can not believe the nerve of some of these folks with the bad reviews at epinions. Seems the super oily skinned folks are just downright appalled by the size of the sheet (roughly 2" x 3"). They complain they must use 3 to 5 sheets for the oil removal, only to have the oil return in an hour or two. DUDE! If you're skin is that oily, see a freakin' dermatologist! I'm sure they make something for that. It's an oil absorbing sheet, NOT blanket. Also, grow a smaller face for less surface area.

Another complaint is the cost. You pay almost $6 for a pack of 50. The ones who bitch about the price seem to direct attention to other blotting papers WITH powders at your local high-end make up counter. Most of these types of blotters are a bit larger and again, they have powder on them and HELLO! they're most likely to be much pricier.

I absolutely can not believe the number of complaints about the color of the sheet. The sheet is blue and it turns clear as it sucks grease from your face. (Anyone grossed out yet?) I guess they are all sitting in the food court at the mall IN FRONT OF EVERYONE and being humiliated because they're dobbing this blue sheet on their faces. Go to the powder room dummies! Take some pride in yourself and your appearance, be discreet and do not be puttin' yo makeup on in da street.

My last gripe is their gripe about the packaging. Yep, it's a small cardstock envelope and the inside of the envelope flap has a tape on it. When you open the flap, there's a sheet stuck to the tape, just pull it off and you're sucking oil baby! The complaint is that the package doesn't hold up. Ok, what in the hell and how much do you already have in your purse? My purse holds a bunch smaller 'purses' because I'm anal like that. My Clean & Clear pack fits just fine in my small makeup bag, no fuss no muss. Organize your purses you whiny haters! If the box isn't getting beat up by the random crap in the bottom of your bag, guess what?? It will last longer!

I reckon that concludes my lunch hour rant. I'm off to the land of invoices!

I am getting older.

And I'm not just getting older, I'm getting fatter. Technically I'm not getting fatter - the scale stays around the same range but I'm FAR from the good side of healthy.

I went to the GYN yesterday. I hadn't been in forever, like a good 10 years forever. (If it ain't broke, don't fix it?) So not only did I get to experience that loveliness of a pelvic exam, I was warned about my blood pressure.

My blood pressure!!! I feel like I caught it from all the guys here at work - all the management I work with take a pill and a good plenty of the field guys do too. But I know I did it to myself. Junk in equals junk out, right?

And today, when I tried to get my Dr. Phil/quit being a dumbass fix....he's doing the weight loss thing again. DAMMIT! My health is screaming at me from everywhere. I took the quiz and I scored a -1. MINUS ONE. According to this test, anything below a score of 24 was not good. Minus. One. GAH! You can take the test and see info here.

So tonight when I get home, I will finally complete our move. We've been in the house 2 years now and the last boxes to unpack are my books. Guess what's hiding in the books? My barely used Dr. Phil Weight Loss Challenge book.

Oh no, you didn't!!

This is my favorite commercial right now:

I catch myself singing it almost NON STOP and the problem has not eased a bit over the past few weeks and might not ever go away because they're giving away the WHOLE SONG they wrote as well. And I will unashamedly admit it's in rotation on my MP3 player. Sigh. Who's the sucka now? ME.

I will probably continue to nervously sing it as this thing keeps bouncing around.

This is NOT the side of the storm I want to be on. There's a few reasons I don't want to live in Oklahoma anymore and tornadoes are one of them. The northeast quadrant of a hurricane is usually the nastiest with the most potential of spawning tornadoes. At least it's supposed to be a fast moving storm once it makes landfall.

As everyone knows, the tv broadcasters are switching to digital signals. I live in a test area so instead of waiting until 2009, we're getting switched over September 9th. September 9th is conveniently (NOT!) scheduled in the middle of peak hurricane season and in the last days of our impending Ike doom. THANKS FCC!! This makes my small hurricane tv completely useless. I've been trusting all of those "If you have cable you have nothing to worry about." commercials. Like a dumbass. DUMBASS!!! It didn't dawn on me until last night when I was gathering up flashlights and batteries that I will not be able to experience the joy of watching our local weatherman spit and sputter his way thru LIVE! hurricane coverage.

The good in all of this is that we finally busted out the weather radio that Lee Anne gave me a few years ago. And I never bothered to open before. It's quite lovely to know that even though she's gone, she continued to look out for me like an awesome auntie does!