At least I didn't do this....

Is it wrong to appreciate roadkill?

So I found this one morning while I was taking Junior to school.

I realize this probably makes me a total asshat in a lot of folks eyes and I'm ok with that.  There's LOTS of reasons I piss people off.  But this guy, he was a great leave!  Those stiff zombie arms that break so gently at the wrists, mouth agape and he's flat on his back. He's in such good shape, I do wonder if he wandered out into the middle of the road, saw a car coming and had a "HOLY SHIT!  CAR!!" squirrel heart-attack and just keeled over right there on the spot.

This is a very high-traffic road with no shoulder and morning school traffic is no place to be assing around.  Also, I was driving my mom's car and the driver's window doesn't roll up and down, only down.  I was very disappointed to know I had to drive away from Squirrely, undocumented.  As I drove away I hoped he would still be there when I came back 10 hours later, but I wasn't going to hold my breath.

As luck would have it, Mother of The Year (yes, me!) forgot it was her snack day for Junior's kindergarten class.  The thought of depriving 23 five-year olds of $18 worth of applesauce, pretzels and juice boxes about tore me out of the frame and I feared for their teachers' safety.  Thankfully I remembered this just before my lunch hour so I made a frantic call to the school's front desk to alert them I'd be RIGHT THERE with some snacks.  SNACK-A-GAWEA to the rescue!!

When I pulled off the highway, I tore around the corner on two wheels and I noticed Squirrely was still there, in tact!  I doubt the Other Moms were driving around Squirrely to admire him but more worried about getting fur in their tires.  Either way, thank you Other Moms!!

Adrenaline pumping from the power walk to deliver snacks straight to the classroom (which, from the main entrance, is the very last freaking class room in the entire building) I managed to get back out on to road to zero traffic.  Remember, there's no shoulder and the window doesn't work.  So I scooch far over in the lane without dropping mom's car into the boggy ditch and get out of the car and start snapping photos.  I'm taking my last photo when I see a logging pickup come around the corner and the look on his face confirms what he's thinking....

What in the hell is this woman doing in the middle of the road taking pictures of a dead squirrel!?

I gave Pickup Man a friendly little wave as he passed by me and he gave me that really confused smile/wave combo.  And if one witness wasn't enough, his buddy driving the tractor/lowboy behind him gave me the funny look too.

Timing is everything and I'm glad to be water cooler fodder because when I did come back thru that afternoon, Squirrely was gone.

Don't you just hate it when....

....you're sitting at your desk, working your little Monday fingers to the bone and one of these crawls out from under your keyboard....

At least he's not all talky and irritating like this guy:

But yes, it would be nice if he made me coffee or brought me a snack or answered the phone or something.

I named a chicken!!!

Sung to this tune:

I am currently prancing around my office singing:

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

Named a chicken

OH OH OH Named a chicken!!

Penny, I am so glad to have helped you! And I'm even MORE glad that helping you didn't involve chicken poop!! I am just FULL OF WIN today!! Ya'll be sure to visit Penny and Bernie!! I have tons more fun playing at their Farmtown than the one on Facebook.

Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed fowl guests, I present you Earlene of Dork:

Trust me, with that name AND those breasts.....her milkshakes bring ALL the boys to the yard.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary...

....what the hell is going on in your garden????

I had two of these freaky twin-squash come off the bush this week. Don't they look like baby snowmans?
Delicious, lip-smacking fried Baby Frostys. MMMMMMMMMMMMM

Horticulture 101

The package was labeled zucchini, but......I'm not so sure what exactly I've got growing in the garden.

I kinda feel like I should be wearing laytex gloves when I'm in the garden now.

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!

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!

Careful what you wish for missy!

So Hanna is now coming RIGHT FOR US in Southeastern North Carolina. I don't believe this is my fault, but I will apologize just in case it is. The latest report has the eye aimed right at my town.

Yes, I'm nervous. There's a storm a commin' from out yonder. But I am so, so glad it is. I need my guys to know they'll have jobs for a while. Work has been so slow, dreadful slow that they're all starting to get panicky. I don't want to work with panicky men, they get whiny and slack off their paperwork. They also get pretty short-fused and start with the in-fighting and bickering. Boys are dumb like that.

I get to spend my lunch hour today shopping for hurricane supplies at Walmart. Woo hoo! Cheese and peanut butter crackers for everyone! Husband is going to take care of the outside stuff at home tonight, I'll be doing the same at Memaw's house after work.

We had a test run for the cats last night. Tahlee was all pressed up against the front door when Mr. Tat Cat decided he was coming inside for a while (I reckon he's starting to feel the cool nights in his bones). Tahlee hid behind the recliner when Tat came in to drink water from the community bowl (just inside at the front door, cats and dog both use it). Tat was drinking away and Tahlee came over to smell his butt. Tahlee about jumped out of his skin every time Tat swished his tail. I think they'll get along fine in the house during the storm. They don't seem to mind each other - they both had big pupiled eyes looking at each other but no one growled. We'll have to wait and see. And have plenty of band-aids on hand in case we have to break up any kitteh fights.

Here's hoping we come out the other side ok, good luck to everyone!

Hanna

Ok, Eight's got a real name now. Hanna.

And it's not related to this Hannah, who appears to be selling some "candy":

Dear Disney Marketing Team,

Please fire the jackass who came up with idea immediately.

Thanks!

GO EIGHT, GO!!

Go Eight!! It's your birthday. We're gonna party like it's your birthday. We're gonna drink Bacardi like it's your birthday! Or I'll bust a cap in your ass.


Sorry to go all GANGSTA on ya but YO! Work is slow and something needs to pick up!! WORD TO YO MAMMA!!

Eight is currently pointed at Florida but let's hope it aims a little closer to home. And let's hope that Hubby gets called out on storm work. STORM WORK!!! The land of kick-ass overtime. Sweet, SWEET overtime. Yummy!

Here's hoping nobody gets hurt - just the power lines and I don't go all She-Ra on the children while Hubby's out of town.

When Animals ATTACK!!

Go ahead, click on it. Would YOU survive?

These numbers are about me surviving. My wolf odds are looking pretty good. I've known about the cat for years. In fact, I've been whooping his ass on a regular basis the past few days. He is old, 14ish this summer I do believe. He's starting to walk like an old man. And his gut is HUGE so he's got a lot to tote and he often looks "stove up" when he struts around. I found some "hey your cat has old bones" pills at Wally World last weekend so we dropped $8 (!!) for a 60 day supply. He's not really down with taking the pills but I have opposable thumbs and the will to put some pep in his step. And its working, he strolls smooth like a pimp now.

Now Mr. Tat Cat has lived outside for the most part of his life. He'll come inside and hang out for a bit, especially on hot days (he's old and fat, remember?) but he usually wants to spend his time outside and I'm cool with that. He doesn't get fleas, maybe a few but nothing like a manifestation. He's long haired and it's very thick. I think the fleas give up trying to eat him thru all his fur. I don't bathe him often because he tries to kick my ass when I brush him out. Tat doesn't quite understand that if I brush him, I'll get those loose hairs off of him and he won't spend so much time hacking up dang furballs all over my porch, walkway, yard, driveway, etc. Tat just thinks of it as an opportunity to smack me around. Some gratitude!

When we moved into the new house I tried to keep him inside, at least for the first few days so he could get comfortable with our new area. That meant Tat had to take a bath. I didn't want dirty cat butt dragged all over my carpet. I was nervous. I think the last time I'd bathed him was about 5 years ago. And he fights brushing - no water involved - so I was REALLY nervous and I made sure Husband knew how to get to the hospital from our new location. I just knew I was going to need some stitches after Tat's bath.

After I worked out all the pre-bath fretting I filled up the bathtub. I scooped Tat up and we headed for the bathroom. He gave me a "Where do you think you're taking me?" look and I tried to explain how he's pretty dirty and I don't want him bringing dirt or possibly fleas into the new house. He just closed his eyes and looked away. And I put him in the water, expecting him to jump up onto my face and claw my eyes out but that didn't happen. He just sat there, all still and quiet and let me bathe him. LET ME. Then he spent a good 6 hours pouting and hiding under my bed.

Of course, the next day when I thought "Hey, let's put him in the back yard (it's fenced in) and see how he likes the ground." BAD MISTAKE! He squeezed his large ass thru the gap between the fence and the house and ran like hell. We didn't see him for almost two weeks. Every day I'd go outside shaking the food dish and yelling for him, "Fat boy! Here kitty kitty." He finally showed back up and was he ever skinny! I'd never seen him skinny, at all, EVER. He's well back to his non-fighting weight now.

Tat likes living on The Circle. He's got no nuts so he doesn't chase or kill much anymore. He's only brought me one set of mole hands since we've moved here. He used to leave me all kinds of lizards, birds and mice at the old farm. He doesn't even chase the birds who come eat at our eleventy feeders.

Good kitteh!