Hi...

...I slept with someone today! It was a chick from work and we were just exhausted after working all night. She drove me home and she was tired too, so I told her just to crash here and we would go to work later. We sat on my bed watching TV, talking and eating McDonald’s and then we fell asleep. So, it’s not quite what I need, but it WAS sleeping with someone else.

You know, women are a whole lot smaller than men and she was a joy to sleep with because she took up so little space. No one snored and no one took the blankets off of me. If it weren’t for that aversion I have to sex with women, I’d just get myself one of those instead of waiting for a man.

Before we went to “bed”, we looked through my clothes. That’s one of the stupid things that we women do when we get together, we just look through our clothes. I found a bunch of stuff that I had never worn and that she liked so she left here with a big bag full of cute stuff to wear.

Well, I have been working my ass off lately so that I can move to that house I was looking at in Cartersville. I’m not sure if it’s worth it or not, I never seem to have any money no matter HOW much I work. And heaven knows that Rick can’t send the alimony on time to save his life so I can’t count on that. That’s what I get for trying to be nice to him.

Well, what he doesn’t know, and what I didn’t mention when we were speaking, is that my congressman is going to help me with the IRS thing. You may or may not have been reading last spring when he screwed me on the tax return. The short version of that story is that he told me that we owed back taxes and I believed him. So, I agreed to sign a joint tax return (so that any refund could go to the “back taxes”).

Well, there never were any back taxes. He and the dude from H & R Block somehow filed a return without my signature and from what the papers said, Rick got about $2,500 back in his refund and kept it since there was never any debt owed. When I found out, no one would listen when I tried to tell them what he had done. My attorney didn’t care and Rick’s attorney must have just believed him so no one did anything. I was going to let it go but he was being such a dick that I wrote to my congressman. He sent me a privacy release so that he could speak to the IRS on my behalf.

Then, I received a letter from him saying that his office is working on my case now. So, with a congressman working on my behalf with the IRS, I believe that I should get some help soon. And...I believe that Rick will not be able to escape this one by moving to Montana. The long arm of the IRS has no problem reaching even THAT state.

You know, it sounds bitchy when I write it down...but the things that Rick did to me were more than bitch-worthy. Whenever I start to feel guilty, I have to tell myself that Rick never felt guilty, even leaving me when we didn’t know what would happen to me with the cancer. He was so busy with his new sleaze-tress that he HAD to leave right then. If he would have waited a little bit longer, we could have gotten one of those $200 dollar divorces where no one had to do anything except sign the papers and walk away. It would have been over by now but that's not what he wanted. I am usually too nice for my own good but that’s not because I don’t know HOW to be a bitch, it’s just because I prefer NOT to be a bitch. But, I do have that special bitch potential that comes with the boobs that we women wear with such pride.

Some of us use that bitchiness willy nilly, just dumping on everyone we meet. Some of us use it exclusively for men and some just for other women. And then, there are those of us who just use it when we are pushed against the wall and that’s me. I really am a nice person, until I have a reason not to be. I even treat people nicely when they probably don’t deserve it but that’s because I don’t like to let other people control MY standards. I like to be able to say that no matter what, I did the right thing.

Well, every so often, someone pushes me so hard that I can’t be nice anymore and that’s when those boobs of mine really get angry. When that happens, I have no control over them. They just take over and say, “Meg, get ‘em!” So, I listen to my boobs and I just let them do what they have to do. So, that’s what’s happening now.

I don’t feel badly about doing this because Rick never once felt badly about what he did to me and he KEEPS on doing it! I was trying to be nice to him for the last month because of his mother but he has absolutely taken advantage of my decency.

It never occurs to me that people are being assholes until it gets so bad that even me and my stupid brain can’t deny it anymore. With Rick, I would say that I’ve bent over backwards to be nice even after all of the hideous things that he did to me. I don’t know why, other than to say that I don’t think like that so it doesn’t occur to me that someone would be that cruel. I just give people the benefit of the doubt and try to be as nice as I can be. But, if someone pushes me over and over again, I eventually DO get it....I just hope I don’t forget it this time and go back to being nice to him. Help me out with that, would ya? Every so often, email me and tell me that I should not feel badly about defending myself.

I’ve met some new people at work who treat me so nicely that I wish I had known them last year. It wouldn’t have been so bad to go through all of what I went through if I had friends when the worst of everything was happening. But, I let Rick become my entire life and when he was gone, I was totally alone. I like having friends, I had actually forgotten how nice it is to have them.

When I was a teenager, we had this silly saying, “A steady guy is here today, a steady friend is here to stay.” As a teenager I was smart enough to know that. As a grandmother, I should be at LEAST that smart. I’m going to try to remember that from now on.

Oh, and to Congressman Tom Price, thank you and your office staff for all you are doing for me.

See ya!

Meg

Have you ever watched Maury Povich?

I think he is about the sleaziest character in the history of television. He truly puts the BOOB in boob tube. I’ve never actually watched the entire show until this morning. I’ve stopped by while surfing along here and there, but that’s about it. Today, I paid attention to that freak who is married to the ever popular, “why wouldn’t anyone trust this woman”...Connie Chung. Those two absolutely deserve each other.

The show that caught my eye this morning was one of those shows where they do paternity tests because there are actually women who aren’t sure who fathered their children. As giving or as strong as some people can be in times of disaster or calamity...others are stunningly contemptible and outright self-seeking in everyday life. Maury and his harem of loose women put on a showcase of some of the most despicable behavior that I have been witness to since Rick and his bimbo Gail Glenn fucked each other in my bed.

They actually called this “episode” of the Maury Show Paternity: Part One. I guess there are just too damn many women lining up to humiliate the “fathers” of their children and the children themselves for that matter.

One woman (and I use the term loosely), suffered from Crone's Disease, a hideous illness that includes chronic and copious diarrhea. She told her boyfriend that her little girl was his when she wasn’t sure whether he was or wasn’t. She decided to tell him the truth on national TV because, “It’s the right thing to do.” Thank the Lord for women who do the right thing.

The wonderful man who has stayed with her through all of her shit learned, in front of America, that the beautiful little two year old that calls him Daddy might not be his. When he announced, over and over again that the little girl was his and that nothing would ever change that, Maury insisted, “You have to know the truth, let us perform a DNA test for you.” Thank the Lord for people like Maury who “do things for” others.

I guess you have to fill the hour long show with something besides just devastated men and their DNA results. Maury has to chat a bit with these pitiful people. He asked one “woman”, “How do you think your fiance will react?”

Oddly enough, the floozy responded with tears in her eyes, “I’m afraid he won’t marry me.”

Ya think?

The reactions of the men ranged from one guy who did a dance like he was a running back in the end zone (after being declared 99.99999% NOT the father) to a gentle man who said, “Everybody makes mistakes.” after it was shown that he WAS the father. Of course, Maury had some inane, absurd questions for the guys as well. He asked one man, “Why would she say it was your baby if it wasn’t?”

Ask a stupid question...

“Because I’m the best she’s ever had...THAT’S why she wants me to be the father!” That one deserved the tramp who decided that eenie was the Daddy, not meenie, miney or moe.

Although I kind of wish I had nabbed Rick with the Cheaters crew, I can’t imagine what people are thinking when they take this crap on television.

While I can understand wanting to make a fool out of a jack ass who lies and cheats, I don’t know why a woman would add this kind of insult to the injury of the paternity ploy. While most of us are basically pretty much decent ladies, it’s amazing how low some women will sink. I think that I can safely speak for the more civilized of us when I say that we are as disgusted with women who pin the Daddy title on the one that they want as any man could be. Women like that give us all a bad name. And men like Maury cash in on the hideous pain caused by these bimbos.

Maury and Jerry and other hosts of these freak shows have no shame. And they are freak shows, aren’t they? We gawk at these mutants on our televisions just like our great-great-grandparents paid a nickel to see the bearded lady back in the 19th century. As long as these deviants are still freakish enough to be a draw, I guess we can assume that they are still relatively rare. At least I hope so.

Unfortunately, cheating alone isn’t much of a draw anymore. You know, when you’re a decent person, it’s easy to be duped by the likes of Rick and the women on the Maury Show today. For a long, long time, I felt like a complete idiot for trusting Rick. But I don’t kick myself for it anymore. It’s just that I don’t see it coming because I’m not evil and I don’t think like an evil person would. I try to do the right thing, not that I always do, sometimes I make mistakes. But, in general, I try to be kind to other people. It wouldn’t occur to me to go out of my way to do something that I know wouold be hurtful to someone else. So, when Rick did the things that he did, I never saw it coming.

To this day, I am a bit slow on the uptake when it come to Rick and the depths to which he will sink. His mother passed away a few weeks ago and I tried to do the right thing. I sent flowers and I spoke to him like a nice person would.

And, like a person such as Rick would do, he took advantage of my niceness. He is now further behind on the alimony than ever, and since I was speaking nicely to him, he decided that he didn’t have to honor his obligations. He took advantage of his own mother’s death to cheat me out of the money that he owed me and left me unable to pay the dentist when I told him I would pay him. I will pay him, just not today and that’s what I said I would do because surely, by the end of November, Rick would catch up with October’s alimony...wouldn’t he?

Nope.
Once again, it never occurred to me that Rick would do something so low as to use a death to save a few bucks. Oh well.

Karma is such a bitch. The biggest bitch of it is that it comes at you the way you put it out yourself. When Rick’s mother died, I asked if there was anything that I could do, like pick up his sons and bring them to Montana for the funeral. Rick said, “Thank you, but no. The oldest one (28) can’t leave the state and the younger one (23) was kicked out by his 40 something year old wife.” It seems that they older one has been arrested for domestic violence and younger one “lies so much” that Rick doesn’t know what’s going on with him.

It’s a shame that it came back on Rick’s kids, but like I said, that’s they way Karma gets you. Those women on Maury, by messing with the relationship between a parent and a child, have ensured that when Karma comes back to bite THEM in the ass, it will be through their own kids.

See, THAT’S why I try to be nice to everybody.

See ya,

Meg

I finally did it...

...I cleaned my entire bedroom. Then, I slept on my own bed, underneath 8 blankets. That was nice and cozy. Who needs a man in there when you have so many blankets? Not me. They’d probably just pull most of them off of me. One nice thing about sleeping alone is that I barely have to make the bed when I get out of it. I just pull the blankets back over to the pillows on my half and the other half hasn’t been touched. This is cool.

I woke up at 3 something and started drinking coffee. Of course, there isn’t much to watch at that time of the “day”, so I ended up watching Elimi-date. That show has got to be the biggest slap in the face to women’s lib since the movement started. 4 silly, giddy little girls all surround some dude who may or may not be a criminal. Then, they all get catty with each other, putting each other done as though there was actually a prize to be won in this show. The “prize”, if you could call it that, is a date with some dude, the likes of which you could find on any street corner in any town in this country.

It should be called Elimi-class. These chicks make themselves look like idiots, all for the sake of a guy who will, inevitably, choose the “hottest” chick there. There’s no reason for any of the prelimi-date other than to watch the women insult each other. After all of the girl harass each other, the guy is left with the one who he knew from the start would win, the one with the biggest boobs.

If my daughter ever tried something like that, I would have to screw it all up by sneaking onto the set and dragging her out by her ears. I doubt she is tacky enough to do something like that, but if she got a wild hair and tried it, I would have to put a stop to it quickly.

I don’t see anything different from the days before women’s lib except that women are sleeping around more and they are all working. Who’s idea was that? Was that the plan from the beginning? Just let the men have all the sex they want and then let them off the hook for supporting us? Thanks Gloria, I needed that.

Who was bitching in the first place? Who said, “You know, I’m sick of my husband working everyday and bringing me the cash...I want to work so that we can get ourselves in debt up to our eyeballs.” And of course, don’t forget, “I want to sleep with all the guys I want to, who cares if they respect me...respect never paid the bills.”

It’s not that I haven’t had my moments where I felt like that, but I certainly wouldn’t mention it to anyone. I think that nowadays, too many women have forgotten the art of keeping their mouths shut at the appropriate times.

It’s fine to say what’s on your mind when everything is going well in a relationship...but when things start going downhill and there doesn’t seem to be anything that you can do to fix it, a smart woman just keeps her eyes open and shops a bit more. I’m not talking about married people...I mean couples who are dating. When a guy treats you great after you first get together, he lets you in on a secret. He does know HOW to do it. So, when he stops treating you all sweet and special, it’s a huge difference.

There’s no sense bitching at him, that’ll only give him a reason to bitch back at you and tell you what you’ve done to deserve the rotten treatment that he has been giving you. So, don’t say a word. Just act like your regular sweet self and then, as you keep your eyes open, sooner or later, someone who appreciates you will come along. Now THAT’S women’s liberation.

Not begging for them to treat you right, not trying to make THEM happy when it is reciprocal, not buying him things...if you have to resort to such things you have already lost. So, just smile, be the fun woman that he liked at first and then one day, you’re just gone.

Watching that show is like everything is all upside down. You have 4 women gushing all over some freaky guy who the girls wouldn’t look at twice in a bar. But, call it a competition and you have 4 childish girls, all vying for the attention of the guy who is soaking up every single bit of it.

Silly girls, don’t they know that if they just sat back and enjoyed themselves, having fun at whatever they’re doing, the guys will come? That’s what guys like...women who know how to have fun. Big boobs always help of course, but for the long run, a chick who can be happy and fun loving will win every time.

Hi...

....I just finished sleeping for the past day and a half, waking up occasionally to notice that I was still tired and that my back was killing me. I took another pain pill and went back to sleep over and over again. I woke up at 5 AM Sunday morning and here I am, after watching stupid crap on television.

One of the dumber things that I watched was some show about Corey Feldman and his problems with drugs. Someone made a comment that after you get into trouble with the law, there is only one “cure” for addiction and that is treatment in the traditional meaning of the word.

That’s bullshit. I’ve known lots of people, myself included, that drank to a level that some would call alcoholism when the only problem was immaturity and selfishness. People grow up or they just get sick of drinking. Maybe they fall in love, maybe they are sick of hangovers and losing jobs. Whatever it is, they just quit. THAT “treatment” is far more successful than anything that AA has to offer. That’s not to say that AA doesn’t work well for some people, it most certainly does. And, for some, it’s all that will work. But, no matter what anyone says, there most assuredly ARE people who can quit by other means.

The one truth in the show I was watching is that “once you are in trouble with the law, you WILL be going to treatment”. I worked at a drug and alcohol rehab in the early 90’s and it was pretty cool. My patients were mostly guys my age that partied too much. They weren’t there because they wanted to be, they were there for one of 3 reasons, the wife, the boss or the judge. These guys had absolutely no desire to quit drinking, or drugging for that matter, they just didn’t want to lose a wife, job or their freedom. As with most fines to be paid as a result of a court decision, the cash made by these facilities just goes to create jobs and line the pockets of whomever is involved in the “punishment” dished out to the “bad guy”.

I decided that it was a pretty despicable business to be in so I quit. But, before I did, I was taught to answer the HELP-LINE because, as the night nurse, I was responsible for answering it. The course in how to answer the phone was so manipulative, that I couldn’t do it. For example, we had to ask certain questions that would elicit facts that we needed to know, but had nothing to do with the question. We would ask, “Has his drinking affected his job?” If they tell you that their husband had lost his job, you referred them to the City Detox.

If they said, “No, he still has a job.” We would ask, “Well, is it a good job with benefits, one that insures your family?”

If the response was, “No, he hasn’t been there long enough to have insurance.”, we would refer them to the City Detox.

If the answer was, “Oh yes, he has a GREAT job, we couldn’t afford to lose that insurance!” , we set up an appointment as soon as possible with the CSR.

That’s just one of many such questions and modes of manipulation that would let us know whether or not we CARED about these people.

And then, to come out and SAY that it does no good unless you want it to work and then take people in who say they DON’T want to quit drinking is just hypocritical. And, oddly enough, the length of stay required in your “individual” case is exactly equal to the amount of time allowed by your insurance. That never varies. We could bargain with them according to the method of pay. If they had great insurance, it would cost 14 grand for a month. If they had to pay for it themselves, we could go down to 56 hundred. Same treatment, different fees.

What constitutes a problem is pretty relative. I once became a “patient” in order to keep my job, all the time knowing that while I had, indeed, drank to excess at one time, this incident was years later and I most assuredly was not drinking to excess at that time.

I was working nights and one morning, I came home to find a party going on in my house from the night before. I had a few beers and went to bed. I had to work again that night. In the evening when I got ready to go to work, my sister said that my breathe smelled like beer. Beer has a way of staying with you. I knew that I would be relieving the Director of Nursing who could smell beer a mile away. I tried to call in, at one point saying that, “I have no business coming in tonight.” She insisted so I ate something and went in.

Naturally, she smelled the beer on my breathe about a half an hour after I arrived. I never expected her to stay for that long. The mint in my mouth had melted. I should have had an Ever-Lasting Gobstopper.

Anyway, off to rehab for me, 6 weeks of it and I got to choose my own facility. Our company had them all over the country and I chose California. 6 weeks of sunny California with FULL PAY. All because I drank beer instead of vodka. What a waste.

I was given books to read and although each story in them was supposed to be written by a different person who was telling their own story, they were all obviously written by the same person. I had found a lie. These people who stressed honesty were lying to me. I made friends with my roommate, a total druggie who lived in the town we were in and made frequent trips out the window for hours at a time during the night. She was never once caught. I myself stopped at the liquor store to pick up a pint of rum as we walked to an AA meeting at a local church. The partying was non-stop and non-found out.

The meetings or “classes” were a joke. I spent the first two weeks telling the truth, all the while being accused of being in “denial.”

I spent the next two weeks shutting up during class, just observing what was going on. During this time, I figured it out. All you had to do was “talk the talk”. They didn’t care about anything else, just that you said the right things.

So, that’s what I did for the last 2 weeks. I had to pass this program to keep my job so I did. I said all the right things and even did what you do when you want to curry favor with the “counselors” (who were, in fact, just drunks themselves who had learned to play the system). If you joined in accusing the newbies of being in “denial”, you were golden.

So, after a while of being in a place like that, you learn that all you have to do is to act like the counselors do and you can get the hell out of dodge with a passing mark.

When I got sick of drinking, I quit. When my mother got sick of drinking, she quit. I know countless people that I used to party with who are now responsible members of society and NONE of them have ever been in treatment. I do believe that groups like AA are of great value to some, but there are many, many more people who can quit all by themselves, and never have another problem. It’s called growing up.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope you are all having a good holiday so far. I am about to get ready to leave for work but I wanted to say hello before I did. Tonight my son and I are going to have a nice dinner and watch movies. I won’t have the time to roast a turkey or make any of the other stuff that goes with a Thanksgiving dinner, but we did go shopping last night to get whatever we wanted and we ended up with filet. That’s no surprise, I never get sick of that. My son wanted homemade pizza, but he couldn’t find the Boboli pizza crust that he’s so fond of. He’ll just suffer through the steak dinner that I’m going to make when I get home from work.

We don’t have the little kids this year, we will have them for Christmas. That means no “kiddie table” in my kitchen this year.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I hosted my first Thanksgiving with a Kiddie Table last year. As I set it, I remembered sitting at my grandmother’s Kiddie Table. I always wanted to go to the Big Table. The Big Table people had the turkey and the mashed potatoes and the gravy while all the Kiddie Table people had was deviled eggs and gerkin pickles.

Big Grandma sat at the head of the table and everyone else sat around her...it was wonderful. Life was easy and all I wanted was my place at the big table. Then Big Grandma died. Things were still great, Grandma was at the head of the table and life was sweet. But I still yearned to graduate to the Big Table.Then Grandma died.

That opened up a spot and I moved up to the Big Table!!!! Mom sat at the head of the table and I was happy, even with my idiot cousin Leon at the Big Table as well. My kids were at the kiddie table and I was securely ensconsed in my own place at the big table.

Then Mom died. And I started to wonder...Now Dad is at the head of the table and I am figuring this crap out.

This isn’t a Big Table!!!! IT’S A LAUNCHING PAD FOR DEATH AND I'M ON DECK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The worst thing about the death launching pad that we refer to as the Big Table is that the ones of us who are the closest to death have to cook for the people who are still running around enjoying life, feeling all invinsible. So, this year I am pleased that I don't have to cook for 4 days...I did it last year. This year there isn't anyone here to cook for except for my son and he would rather just have that steak dinner and avoid cooking. I could have started it all yesterday and this morning and let the turkey cook all day. But my son knew that he would have to spend the day basting the turkey while I was at work and he thought better of that.

So, here I am, sucking coffee, about to get ready to go to work. I like working on the holidays. Being a nurse, we work the holidays and the people we work with are either too sick to be at home or they have no one to be with on the holidays. So, I can never feel sorry for myself when I work the holidays, I'm surrounded by people with far more problems than I have.

And what people they are! This year, I will be taking care of some older people and one of them is an old man who was in both WWI AND WWII! How many people get to meet someone like that? Not many. This guy is 97 years old and sharp as a tack. He tells the best stories that you could possibly hear. Usually, you would have to find a book to learn about the things that this man tells me about.

One year I took care of a man who had survived the Battan Death March. He had even written a book about it. He let me take the book home to read and then he died before I could give it back. His family told me to keep it and it's one of my favorite possessions.

So, while you are eating your Thanksgiving dinner, I will be lucky enough to be taking care of people who could tell me stories about Thanksgivings that happened 50 or 60 years ago. Oddly enough, they may not remember what they had for breakfast, but they can tell me what they did the morning that WWII ended and that's one of the many reasons that I love taking care of these folks.

So, I'm going to go get ready to go to work and I'll be having a great holiday. I'll be working with people who truly know what the holidays are all about and I can't wait to get there. So, you guys have a great day and I'll be back to tell you about my day later.

See ya!

Meg

Hello everybody.

I’m in a pretty good mood this morning for no good reason and I thought I’d tell you that. I don’t have anything to do other than pay bills and I thought that I could put that off until some other year. I hate that, don’t you? It sort of messes up my good mood. I kind of hate giving my money away for such DUMB crap like electricity. I want to take it and go to the mall. Stuff like housing and utilities are so stupid to have to pay for.

If I have to work and still not have any money left over to take to the mall or to another continent, then I might as well do what soldiers did when they didn’t want to fight anymore, just shoot myself in the foot. War may be hell, but working every damn day sucks pretty much too, doesn’t it?

Where’s my disposeable income? Why don’t I just go on welfare and get it over with? If all I’m working for is the shit that the government would pay for, then why don’t I just let them do it? Whatever. I’m sure that I could qualify for some kind of welfare, I’m female and sick...I could do that.

Oh well, I guess if you want to even LOOK at the pictures in the magazines and even THINK about buying some of the stuff that you see in them, you have to work. I may not ever REALLY be able to afford it, but if I work hard enough, I can fool myself into thinking that I MIGHT...SOMEDAY be able to afford something besides cable. My entire entertainment budget pretty much IS my cable bill. How sad is that?

Oh, speaking of which, I just went into my living room to watch the end of the Full Monty. That’s a great movie and I wanted to see the scene where they do their dance. They showed the entire dance scene and when the guys turned around at the VERY end, the wise people at Spike TV put black boxes over their asses.

I was raised in a time when I Dream of Jeannie had to cover up her belly button and they never used the word “pregnant” on TV. I admit to being easily offended at some of the language that they use on TV. It’s not that I’m a prude, I just think that they are offensively “loose” with some of the things that they allow. It’s not stuff that you can “just turn the channel” to avoid, the COMMERCIALS have swear words. It’s as though these yahoos are going out of their way to offend people.

There’s a time and a place for everything and I think that covering up the guys’ asses at the end of that movie is just idiotic. But then again, these are the same geniuses who bleeped out the fart sounds in Blazing Saddles. Perhaps one of the funniest scenes ever filmed on celluloid...or whatever it is that they make movies out of...and they bleep the shit out.

I’d like to see where it’s written that you can’t have farts in a movie. If they can show me where it was written down and who it was who took the time out of their busy schedule to specifically discuss farts and whether or not you should allow them in the movies, I might reconsider.

I certainly don’t think that they should allow asses on Sesame Street, but on a cable channel, you could sort of forgive a little ass in a dimly lit bar. And who the hell were the farts offending? I’m more offended by the shit I see on Friends than I am by any ass that might pop up on my screen.

By the end of a movie like the Full Monty, you could expect and can deal with the men’s backsides. If you can appreciate the entire movie, you should be able to handle the butts at the end. When I was 17, I had to get up and walk out of Shampoo because they showed Warren Beatty’s ass. I had never seen a man’s ass before and it embarrassed the hell out of me. We had already sat through the Stepford Wives, so the date wasn’t a total loss.

I wish I had a Popsicle. I don’t have any at all. I don’t have anything, period. I have to go shopping. I have a can of off brand Ragu and some elbow macaroni. Oh, yeah, I have corn. Oh, I could have peanut butter and jelly, but I am down to creamy peanut butter. I prefer crunchy. This is one of those things I needed a man for. I have to do EVERYTHING now and that just sucks. Do you have any idea how annoying this is? I would like to just become rich. How hard is that? There’s a bunch of money around, I want some more.

I wouldn’t mind being famous, either. If any of you can help me be either rich or famous, let me know. I wouldn’t mind being rich and famous, and I wouldn’t mind being just rich, but I don’t want to be just famous. People who are famous without being rich tend to be infamous and that’s no good. I don’t want to be known for something stupid like an assassination or a being a member of a cult.

Well, I’m sorry but I have to go now. I’ll be back later, I have to go do that bill paying crap. I think I'll make myself one of those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches only I'll use jam in stead of jelly. Yeah, that sounds good. I love to live life on the edge like this. I hope you guys are having a good day.

See ya,

Meg

Dear Meg,

I will have to agree that any man that does not take the time to learn what to do and how to do it is a total slacker, It never hurts to just get down there and take a look around and find out where stuff is located and then how to properly stimulate it. I can’t think of anything that one can do more for ones partner than to do this properly. I love the reaction to proper stimulation.

Now, I didn’t say that...someone else did. And someone else said this as well:

Lot's of attention to the clit - but toungue incursions too. the clit is not just madly flicked ... there's a top and a bottom to it - and attention needs to be paid to both. Woman differ - so its important to judge your partners responses as you go on. Hopefully.. as she begins moaning and undulating under the tongue... I've secured myself with my arms around and under her legs.. so she can't get away.

Well, this guy seems to have a grip on the situation. His little wife has plenty to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

I read it when I first got up. now I'll be horny all day. Thanks Meg.

Well, that sounds quite a bit like a personal problem. Oh, and let’s not forget

...usually, it's best to be clean shaven - no razor burn on the thighs...

Well, that goes without saying. OK...so you guys are into it. That’s cool. I’m pretty much over it, thank you. I can’t do anything about it now and it looks like it’ll be a really long damn time before I ever do.

I’m about ready to give up on sex. I sure the hell am not going to leave the house when it’s this damned cold outside. I hate cold. I fricking HATE cold. I am so cold now that my nipples are all hard again. I’m wearing my long johns again. I know I’m not getting laid sitting around this house in my long johns. Oh well. I’m cold and I can’t get no satisfaction.

I went to the dentist today. That’s always fun. I had the laughing gas and it was pretty cool. I almost had the answers to the secrets of the universe and then they turned it off. I almost had it and Bang...reality hits. I hate reality.

You know, it just occurred to me...Prince Charming is just a fairy tale dude. Even Prince Charles looks like a wombat. I never thought about it before, but do you suppose Prince Charming ever gets a blowjob? I would think it would be tough to get into those clothes of his. With my luck, the damn crown would fall on my head and knock me out just as I was getting settled in. I get paper cuts on lottery tickets. I’m allergic to clover, three or four leaved. My horses always brake coming out of the gate and I got my finger jammed in a slot machine. I’m a Cubs fan, I should learn to deal with this crap.

I see the Bears are doing well, that’s nice. I’d like to be in Chicago for that but I’ll be stuck here, too far south for a good winter and too far north for a tropical winter. It’s silly to be here if you can’t enjoy winter, just crappy weather. That’s all they have here, crappy weather. Then it gets Africa hot for a few months. Then, the weather turns crappy again. So, it’s pretty much just hot and crappy here. I much prefer Chicago and blizzards.

Well, I’ve been up all night and I’ve been staring at this screen for a while and my brain isn't getting any sharper so I’m gonna go to sleep now. I’ll be back after I restart my brain.

See ya,

Meg

Do you have yahoo Instent messenger?

Nope. I don’t. I do have MSN but I never go there because when I do, I”m inundated with IM”s from every single person that I’ve ever been dumb enough to give my MSN screen name. I don’t get that. I end up with 8 chats happening at the same time. That’s so exhausting in itself, going from one chat window to the next trying to remember who is who.

I try not to be rude but there’s no other way to do that. I sign on and within 5 minutes, I just do the computer version of “hanging up” on people, I just sign off and disappear from all of those screens.

I know that these people are not just sitting there waiting for me to sign on. They must be speaking to someone already and even if I did want to speak to you...I don’t want to be one of those stupid windows...I want to be the ONLY window. I am so over-solicitous in trying to answer people in a prompt and attentive manner. I think it’s just plain polite. My father always taught us to be “gracious” in all situations and I DO try. It doesn’t always work, by I do certainly try to behave affably whenever I can.

So, I expect it in return. I can tell when I’m one of a few windows because the guy takes a while to answer. Their words are very sincere, obviously they have done quite a bit of window juggling. I can juggle emails, but not IM’s.

I might have been able to handle it briefly when I first had internet access. Everything was so new and cool...I did it all. I went to chat rooms, I went on message boards, did the IM’s...all of it. Now, I realize that you could spend your entire life online if you chose to so I have to cut some of these things out and IM’s are one of them. But there are such large numbers of men who want to IM that I have to wonder what they’re after. I suppose it’s no big mystery, there must be some sort of sex involved, even if it’s just sex chat, sex is certainly at the root of such crapola.

I don’t want to be part of an IM harem...one of many women kept on that computer screen, never to be seen or heard from again. How dare they do that to me? What the heck are people thinking?

What ever happened to dates? Don’t people do that anymore? I don’t mean meeting on the puter dates, I mean dinner and a show dates. The stuff that Wally and the Beav did back in the day when everything was in black and white.

Men seem to be saving some cash by just doing their courting online. Where are they spending all of that extra money? I’m not a materialistic woman, but I do like to be taken out to dinner like I used to be. Now, it seems like these guys want to totally eradicate the first few dates by replacing it with a few IM conversations. Most of these yahoos don’t even want to spring for phone calls and they certainly have no interest in meeting these women although I’ve noticed that and alarming number of men who say that they want a “long term relationship”...end up IM’ing a person with no plans for meeting...ever. It just isn’t addressed as though this had been intended to be a relationship existing only in IM’s. The men have done it so many times that they don’t even realize that they are jumping straight into their “relationship of choice” phase without so much as touching upon the “getting to know who the hell you are” phase of even the lowliest of “social relationships”, the exclusively IM online relationship (Something I like to call EIO.). They treat us all as though we are prostuter’s...loose women of questionable morals, who throw caution to the wind with their laissez-faire attitude towards computer sex.

Like Bill Clinton before them, they believe that computer sex is not actually SEX. I would like to submit that if there is an erection involved, and certainly a...as Howard Stern would say...Warm Pudding sensation involved as well...you, my friend, are having sex. Especially if pictures have been exchanged, pictures that show things that are supposed to be covered by a bikini or a speedo. I categorically despise receiving pictures of it “IT” and the other body parts that men are so proud of showing off. There is every possibility that there may come a day when I need such a picture, but I can’t for the life of me imagine when or why.

So, as you can see, there is no benefit to my participation in these IM relationship. The entire thing is to difficult for me to deal with, first of all.

Second of all, I have this feeling that I am being used for puter sex by a man who doesn’t want to pay so much as he wants to just get “a nut”.

And, there's that "I want a long term realtionship" that they purport to want. I hate a liar and expecially one who is using his lies to manipulate people into having esex. And, they use the worst kind of manipulation, they take the feelings of a lonely person, and promise them that they are searching for a long term relationship when in reality, all they want is a romp on cyber-land. Shame, shame, shame's your name!

See ya,

Meg

PS....I was exhauted writing this because I had wokred all night. I should be back later and hopefully, I'll be more alert:):):)

Meg,
What about US? What about the women and what we want?...And why do you talk about sex all the time?...

All the time? I didn’t realize that I did. But if I do...it’s pretty understandable...it’s been a really, really long time since I actually HAD sex so I guess it’s just coming out here a bit.

And...for the other woman that wrote...for some reason, there were only 2 emails from women yesterday...I didn’t leave out the women’s side of oral sex...I just hadn’t gotten to it yet. I couldn’t do both of them at the same time...no computer 69’s for me.

I guess I sort of left the 69 blowjob out of the blowjob chat, but I don’t really consider it a blowjob so much as I consider it just 69. Besides, there’s no way to describe what to do during that blowjob because so much depends on what the guy is doing up there. And whether or not he pulled the pillow out from under my head before he turned around. If nobody thinks to move that stupid pillow...there isn’t much that can be done except just to lie there and....take it.

Oh well. The guy has much more control during 69...unless the women gets on top, which, I must admit, I have never done. The only control that I have is that when a guy slows down...down there...I do too. I just stop.
If you do that enough, like Pavlov’s dogs, he will figure it out and start doing it right again. I would say something, but I hate to mumble.

Anyway, the lady didn’t want me to speak about dick’s in mouths, she wanted me to talk about...well...how do I say this...men playing the hairy harmonica?

I’ve run across a few of those, “If you can’t fry it, I won’t eat it.” types of guys. I don’t hang around with them for any length of time at all. And TO those guys, I’d like to know something...“What the hell are you thinking?”

I know that there are a few guys around who don’t care at all about whether or not the women has any fun during sex, but luckily, not too many. I’m quite sure that most who do care only do so because it’s the smart thing to do. NO self respecting women would allow a man to have 3 orgasms without seeing to it that the woman has at least 1. I’ll give someone 3...after that, he better start saying the word RECIPROCITY to himself over and over again. Or, he needs to just move on to some stupid young chick who doesn’t know any better.

I’ve given it a bit of thought and I don’t think that there are too many variables with a woman...you either do it right, or you get the hell off. A nice woman will just tap on your shoulder, ass or even your head when she wants you to just give it up and quit already.

So basically, there are just two ways to do that, the right way or the wrong way. There’s very little in this world more frustrating than having someone do it the wrong way. You don’t always have a man’s head between your thighs and when you do, you expect certain things. I don’t know how a guy can have more than a couple women and still do that wrong, but plenty of them waste a lot of time down there just goofing off.

They either do it too soft or too hard, too slowly or too quickly...AND THAT SHIT JUST DRIVES ME NUTS...and I mean that in a BAD way.
There’s no reason in the world to keep a guy around who just annoys you in that arena. It’s not like a blowjob, there IS a bad...whatever it is you call that. And it’s not just disappointing, it’s downright MADDENING. So close and yet so far. I’m getting irritated just thinking about guys who just fiddle around with that tongue, lacking direction and purpose. They wander around aimlessly, all Daniel Boone-like, taking wrong turns and totally disregarding the help that I am trying to give them as I follow their tongue around with my hips. They stop and start over and over like a bad driver who can’t keep his foot on the accelerator with an even pressure.

I want to hit them with a large piece of wood. How hard can that be? If you find it taking a really long time, ask yourself some questions. Don’t assume that all that movement from a woman is a good thing, consider the possibility that someone is trying to HELP YOUR STUPID ASS!

Younger women might just fake it and get on with their lives, but older women won’t bother with you at all if you can’t perform up to certain standards. Why in the heck would we? I don’t have as much time as a younger woman so I’m not wasting it on someone who doesn’t know how and doesn’t bother trying to figure it out. Like I said, a guy who does that wrong is more annoying than a guy who doesn’t do it at all. I’ll help you out a bit, but only if you ask. If you don’t seem to want to know, then I’ll just wait for you to leave and then I’ll stop answering your phone calls.

This is actually more important than a blowjob to women. All guys can enjoy sex either way but most women, on the other, count on this crap. So, be a good boy and pay attention next time...OK?

See ya,

Meg

Awwww...baby...I don't know how to do that! I'm a good girl, I am.

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THIS POST IS RATED O FOR:

“Oh Martha...get the kids outta here!”

Well...as any woman would...I tried to avoid this blowjob stuff off for a while. I didn’t know what to say about them so I sort of just put it off and put it off. Now, I just have to bite it and get this over with.

Blowjobs.

Oh...the blowjob. That thing that any woman can do to get a guy to hold still when all else fails. Oddly enough...it isn’t considered sex anymore.

Do you suppose Clinton would still feel the same if he had caught someone sucking on Hillary’s dick? I doubt it.

When I was a teenager...they made a movie about blowjobs. Well, actually I guess it was more about a lady who liked to give them. I won’t go into the details as not to ruin it for those who haven’t yet seen the movie Deep Throat. Linda Lovelace was a blowjob superhero of sorts back then.

She taught us all HOW to Deep Throat...but never made it OK to actually DO the Deep Throat without looking bad. How do you tell a man that he has to get down on his knees as you are lieing on your back with your head hanging off the bed without having him wonder how in the hell you knew how to do that? Most of us must keep our skills a bit of a secret for a while just so that men don’t start wondering how we got so good at it. So...without letting on exactly what we are capable of...we just do the regular, everyday blowjob where you just go down when the guy happens to be in a good position for reception.

Even just doing that, you run the risk of hearing this...."Damn girl, you suck a mean dick.” Sort of a reference of which, I have many.

A very long time ago I learned how wise it is for a woman to learn how to perform the ancient art of cock sucking. There are many, many different types of blowjobs. There is the “I just want you to get hard and climb on top of me.” blowjob that doesn’t last any longer than it has to...just long enough to get the dude ready for HIS work...not really anything you’d put too much time and effort into. It is rather utilitarian...it works well and is pretty damn efficient...but not too much fun. Of course...it IS a blowjob and it will get the job done.

Then, there is the everyday, “OK...so we’re having really good sex tonight.” blowjob. You have to put a bit of effort into that blowjob. It just occurred to me that my word processor recognizes that word, LOLOL...slut that it is. You don’t have to be too good to perform this particular blowjob...you just sort of do whatever you think you should be doing when you hear the word “Blowjob.” Of course, you have to suck....blow is just an expression.

Then, there is the...“OK...so you bought me a nice piece of jewelry.” blowjob. This takes time and knowledge of what a man enjoys. Yes...I do know that. I don’t know what in the hell you call all of those parts of the mighty penis, but I do have a pretty good working knowledge of what parts you do what to and how quickly or slowly, that you should be doing it if you want to make his toes wiggle. That one lasts a bit longer than the previous blowjob...and you have to put your neck in harm’s way to do it properly.

OK....one of the most annoying, yet Must Know’s of the dick sucking repertoire....the “OK...I’m here for the duration.” blowjob. Now...with this blowjob, a woman has to know a few things to avoid gagging. She must know how to recognize that toe wiggling and be ready to throw that bad boy way back into the deepest recesses of her mouth at just the right time. And...she should not be surprised by the salty, caviar-like nature of...the fruits of her labor.

Lastly and most importantly of all...is the Linda Lovelace “I really, really enjoy this crap” blowjob. I can’t go into things like that here...I must pretend not to know of such things for right now. My next husband might be reading this and then what would I do when he starts asking what I was talking about here? If I’m not careful, I could find myself doing this every single night of my life.

No woman enjoys that enough to do it every single night. But...we must all be willing to do it if we have to. You just never know when some guy will come along that’s worth the time and effort. Little else can get a dude coming back daily with flowers than a really good blowjob.

A few other things that you should know about blowjobs...always put your lips over your teeth as not to cause harm. No one wants a guy jumping around too much when he’s all the way...well, you get the picture. Also...you should learn to handle this without gagging. There’s a little thing that you can do with your throat to further that cause and it cannot be taught....that shit is just innate in some women.

Well, that’s about the best I can do with a blowjob short of actually performing one and there are just too many of you out there for that so this will have to do.

OK then....this has been a public service announcement from the American Blowjob Company.

See ya,

Meg

Dear Meg...

“...so anyway, after reading that I was wondering about this. Do you have any more of that clean urine?...

LOLOLOL...why yes...I do. I have some with me now. What’s it worth to you?

I read a bunch of crazy things that people do to make money...including selling urine. I think that the easiest money making opportunity is something that I saw on eBay. Women were advertising that if you sent them a pair of new panties, they would wear them for a day and send them back to you for $100. Now...why didn’t I think of that?

Here I am...trying to pay my bills in a respectable manner and all I had to do was sell my dirty underwear. It’s a shame that doesn’t work with women...I could have supplied them with some exceptionally funkified men’s underpants a while back. I can’t do that anymore so don’t bother asking. What a brilliant scheme it is though...you get to wear new panties everyday and you don’t have to wash them at all.

I do have a steady stream of that clean urine...let me know if you’re interested:):):)

I worked last night, that was fun. I woke up at 3 something yesterday morning and I haven’t been to sleep yet. I could take a nap now except I have a dentist appointment today at 1 and I would NEVER wake up if I fell asleep now. I couldn’t fall asleep anyway, I started drinking coffee at 4 am and it’s just now kicking in. I’m as wired as John Belushi. I could take a pill to help me fall asleep but then I would NEVER wake up.

Just ask Todd. When he calls me after I’ve been up all night and then taken a pill, I promise to call him back but I never do. Once I fell asleep with him on the phone only to hear...”Meg!...Meg! Wake up!...MEG!!!!!” I felt quite badly about that. I either cannot sleep at all or I’m crashed for twelve hours.

Anyway, I just checked Kelli’s emails. Men never cease to amaze me.

One guy has been emailing Kelli for days now, 5 times a day. He sent me some link so that I could see his picture. I emailed him back that I wasn’t going to do anything stupid that might trash my computer. Then...I realized that he was married and I wouldn’t so much as PRETEND to mess with a married man...their wives will find my email address somewhere and I don’t want that to happen. So, after a few days of me ignoring him...he sends me this:

Guess you did see the pic...

LOLOL...now I surely won’t go look, he’s pretty much told me that I shouldn’t bother.

While that guy must not have thought much about himself, this one thinks far too much of himself:

Smart, attractive islander, {ladies u will not be dissapointed} looking for a girl that knows how to please a man sexualy, confident. I have a woman who likes to **** me about three times a day, but I love having sex with new women. Ladies I am not trying to be a dog, just a fun loving guy.

And...in case you STILL wonder exactly what his status might be...he answered that query with his idea for a first date:

Sex - I keep an apartment very close to my house.

Then...we have the double standard guys who want it all, looks AND brains:

I like my job, engineer and yes a geek at heart, I actually like it when a female has intellegents instead of all looks.

Oh my. Here’s one who doesn’t even seem to realize that he even HAS a problem:

By the way nice picture. You are a super extra special hottieFor personal satisfaction and being spoiled for an hour or so, e-mail me with a way to contact you

An hours or "SO"? You mean it could be SHORTER? I HAD to see what this guy said about himself and I’m sorry that I did:

Attractive WM clean, D&D free, discrete, good humored, easy going, non judgemental.Night Worker looking for a woman that wants to experience daytime pleasures. nicely endowed. Long wide tongue , like pleasing a Woman with both.Like giving a nice clean afternoon.

So, what does a man with a “long wide tongue want to do on a first date? Well naturally:

Woman multiple climaxes. no strings, no commitment.

Damn, I'm glad that he's "non-judgemental". But...I think this one says it better:

If were at your place and it's private enough, I warm some oil and make it a really nice body rub. at that time I start giving you pleasures all over your body until you quiver and climax extremely, lay there a few minutes and do it all over again.

There are some men who would find the time to be with a woman no matter what he had to do. And then...there is the guy who said he worked everyday but Tuesday. So, to beg him off, I told him that I worked Monday and Tuesday nights. So, he writes me back...

one of us will have to miss a little sleep one of these tuedays..lol it'll be worth it, i promise.

Yeah...I’m sure it would be. But not to me. Which one of us has to miss a little sleep and for whom? What a pig.

Then, as I was writing this post, I emailed someone who DOES know me well enough to discuss such things. I didn’t know that he WOULD until I asked him to give me a topic, any topic. I had no idea what to write about. So...being the dumb female that I am, I never expected him to answer me in the most logical, succinct way that any man ever WOULD have answered that question:

Blowjobs

OK then. My next post will be about...

Blowjobs.

We aim to please.

See ya,

Meg

Here I am in my new jacket. I love that stupid jacket, I really do.

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I’m back...

...so obviously they didn’t lock me up...this time. I have to pay a billion dollars in fines and go to driving school and a bunch of other stupid things that do nothing but collect the state money . Whatever.

The bad court date is in February, that’s the one for the driving on a suspended license. I don’t know what will happen then but there’s always the chance that a truck will hit me before then and it won’t be a big problem anymore. So, there’s no reason to worry about it too much right now. Of course, I might when the lottery and then I’d just leave the country so I’ll just have to see what happens.

My son has been chauffeuring me around. I cannot believe that is safer than having me drive myself. This kid freaks whenever anything goes wrong...this morning he had a fit when we were stopped by a freight train. Then, he passed the courthouse and said, in a very loud voice, “This stupid windshield is so filthy that I can’t see anything!”

Well, it’s filthy because his transmission-less car is parked in my carport and therefore I have to park under the trees that are dripping sap all over my car. I chose not to mention that right then since he was already having one of those Man Temper Tantrums that I am so fond of.

Now he’s in a better mood and is cleaning my kitchen so I probably won’t say anything except, “Thanks, son.” He is a pretty good house cleaner dude. And, his tolerance for a mess is lower than mine so before it bothers me, it drives him nuts so I just let him go ahead and clean to his hearts content. He moved back here to help me when I was at my sickest and I appreciate that. So, the house cleaning stuff is just a bonus.

Actually, it’s pretty much only fair because he eats far more than I do and he does make most of the mess.

I said that once and he disagreed so I started using the same glass for days, just washing it out each time I used it and I did the same with dishes. So, I proved my point after doing that and watching the dishes pile up.

The only mess in this house that is truly all mine is the mess that’s in my bedroom. I went in there this morning to get ready for court. I did find an outfit to wear. I chose a pair of black and white shoes to wear but I had to put the dog out and take care of all the pets so I put a pair of sandals on so that the other shoes didn’t get dirty before I left. Then, I forgot to change shoes. I realized it just as I shut the front door behind me. When I realized that I was wearing the sandals, I said, “Wait a minute, I have to go back and change my shoes.”

Well, I had locked myself out of the house. My son has keys to the front door and I had locked all of the locks on the back door. We had my keys...I don’t have a key to the front door so we were locked out. (His keys were in the house.) We didn’t have much time so I had to go to court in the sandals.

When we got home, I just climbed in a window. Then, I went into my room to change out of my going to traffic court clothes and I looked around at all of the shoes in there.

There are 4 pair on my television alone. The dog keeps eating them so I can’t leave them on the floor. I had two pair on my kitchen table when a friend of mine came over and said, “Oh! It’s bad luck to put shoes on a table!” I didn’t know that.

I told her to look around...there are shoes on every surface in my house that is higher than my dog’s mouth. That explained a LOT! NO wonder I keep getting pulled over, I keep putting my shoes on tables! I guess I’ll have to buy one of those things with shoe holes in it and hang it on my door...that should clear up the traffic problems.

I spoke to Rick today to tell him what happened in court and he said, “I wonder how our lives went all crazy like this.”

I resisted the desire to rip his head through the phone and poke him in the eyeballs. It’s frightening how good he is at that kind of stuff...if I didn’t know better, I would think that he was truly baffled at the downward spiral that our marriage took. I am quite clear on what happened and I can’t imagine how he could not know. But, whatever...at least we can speak as though we have known each other for our entire adult lives.

I just got a phone call from someone offering me a chance to make some cash tonight so I said yes. I am not going to pass up any opportunities to earn money until I get all of my fines paid. So, I have to go to sleep and try to get a little nap so that I can work all night. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow and I don’t know when I will be able to sleep if I don’t do so now. So, I am going to sign off now and get my ass onto my couch and catch a few winks...I’ll see ya later!

Meg

By the way, thank you to all of you for your emails wishing me luck. You guys are great.

OK...

...I’m up and headed to court. This should be fun. I just can’t wait. The last time that I went to court for this particular ticket, they had lost the paperwork so I’m hoping that they still haven’t found it. I don’t usually have that much luck so I will probably be sentenced today.

You guys could all send me really, really positive vibes starting now...and maybe that will help. Maybe not. I am at that point where I need to figure out what to wear and I’m all mixed up about that decision. I never know whether or not to go for the sweet little woman look or the cute little hottie look. A wrong decision could backfire on a person...and badly...so I have to give this some serious thought.

And then...I have to hope that there’s a man on the bench. You can almost guess about a man but with a woman judge, I have no clue what to do.

In my recent court appearances there was one woman judge and she turned on her radio to listen to R & B during the pleadings. I thought that was a good sign. I like a judge with such little decorum. They usually have a pretty good attitude, male or female. I don’t want a judge that’s all serious...they are likely to send a person up the river for any little thing that might happen.

Damn...I can’t remember what time my court date is. I think it’s at 8:30 but I could be wrong. I’ll show up at 8:30 and hope for the best. I hope it’s still Thursday. I fell asleep on my couch yesterday (I think it was yesterday) watching the Star Wars movie something about the Sith. I don’t know what happened...the last thing I saw, Darth Vader was killing the guy from Pulp Fiction.

Anyway, I fell asleep that day and just woke up. I’m assuming that it’s 6 am Thursday. And...if it is, I have to go to court and answer for what I did last May. I’ve been pretty lucky so far...I've had one continuance after another and the last time, the prosecutor people got the continuance so that they could look for the paperwork from the ticket that I got last spring. So, this is were I am hoping that they had a bit of bad luck. You never know...it could happen.

I don’t know what Georgia considers a speedy trial so I don’t know if I can bitch that they aren’t giving me one. I sort of begged this off myself for a while so I don’t know if I could turn it back on the State.

Oh well. We shall see.

Back to what I should wear. I’m not sure at all. I do have to take a shower so I will start with that and then I’ll stand naked in front of my closet waiting for some divine inspiration. I don’t have a nun’s habit so I can’t go with that look. I’m not much of a nun anyway so I wouldn’t know how to pull that look off. I would have figured this out earlier in the week but I was busy with the other police guys. Oh, by the way, they said that they would be looking for me and they weren’t kidding. The other night, I had my son drive me to that town and once we got off of the interstate, there were 4 cops hiding in parking lots that turned out of their hiding places to follow us. I guess they were mighty disappointed that I didn’t drive myself. They couldn’t stop us for anything. I waved as we passed them...not sure whether or not there was a law against flipping the bird at a cop. Is there? I need to know. I have a few cops that I’d like to flip off right now.

But, not today. These are Marietta City cops and I like them. They are so good to me most of the time that I don’t get too upset when they take me to court. I kind of asked for this one.

Once again, I know that there are reasons for the laws that they put on the books but I think that there is far too little discretion available to the judge when it comes time to sentence people. I don’t think that they should be able to spend a bunch of cash jailing people who committed the crime of not paying a fine. There isn’t supposed to be debtor’s prison in America but there is...isn’t there? If you don’t pay a debt that the court asked you to pay, you can go to jail and that’s not really what they built the jails for in the first place.

And then you have people getting elected to office based upon their rantings over crimes and misdemeanors. I think that’s pretty sorry but what do I know. I’ve never been elected to anything since student council back in 1971. And all I had to do then was pass out a bunch of lollipops.

OK...I can’t put this off any longer...I must go to court now. Yikes.

See ya....I hope.

Meg

OH! By the way...I just got an email from someone who sent me that George Carlin thing only this time it was written by Ted Nugent. I don't know why...but people do stupid things like this. I have done dumb things like that. Once I made up a screen name that was the name of a chick on All My Children and I had a bunch of people emailing me thinking that I was Marcy Walker. Then, I went to the All My Children web site and found that I had been "outed" on the world wide web. It seems as though there were a few people smart enough to ask questions. So, it's true that you can't fool all of the people all of the time. But...you can fool a bunch of them for a while anyway. OK, court...yeah, I have to go to court. OK...I'm going.

You know...

...sometimes I can be so smart. And other times I can be an idiot. I posted something and put another person's name on it without checking the validity of the work and that was not too bright. The person who sent it to me is such a trusted friend that I had no reason to think that it was made up. I should have considered the possibility that she was mislead, especially when I read the piece. George Carlin did NOT write the post that was attributed to him. As I was reading it, I thought briefly to myself that it was pretty bad for Carlin but then I thought, "Well, maybe he just isn't funny when he's emotional."

It didn't occur to me that he was ALWAYS funny until I received an email from Marc, a blog buddy of mine who I've e-known for months now. He is a Carlin fan and trusted his own instincts more than I trusted mine. He found that, not only didn't Carlin write that piece, he has gone out of his way to distance himself from it. So, I just deleted it.

Sorry about that.

OK...I have to go to the grocery store...it's not far enough away to build up any speed at all so I should be safe.

See ya,

Meg

I just went to my dating profile...

...to check my emails and there’s no shortage of men out there. I don’t know if I’m just getting better at figuring them out or if they’re getting worse at shoveling the bullshit. One way or another, they are kind of funny. And...they are rather predictable. This online dating crap is an excellent way to study the testosterone induced. It’s sort of like a crash course in bullshit detection.

Most of them pretty much use the same techniques...some of those are actually quite creative but the majority of them are just plain stupid. Men seem to think that women think like they do...and we don’t. We are not impressed with a boob at all.

But, some of them seem to think that a little titty is nice which I find odd.

Now...I’m not particularly fond of cowboy hats, but put one on a man with tits...and I just might have to jump that bad boy.

Back in the day when I did quiet men I might have appreciated this guy:

WANT SOME

But now I prefer a man who uses pronouns.

Many men seem to think that they have to reassure me that they don’t mind my “AGE”...I never bring it up myself. I don’t really get a chance to think about it before they say things like:

I also tend to date older women because they tend to have their shit together where younger women do not.

OK little dude...keep your pants on.

If I had to teach a bunch of men How to Get Laid 101 based upon what I’ve experienced thus far since me hubby left me...I would have to stress a few things like buying a motorcycle, mentioning your “endowments”, and spelling the word "come" with a U. Men seem to think that these are pretty good woman seeking tools and I don't get that. You guys say that we confuse YOU! Well...I just have one question...

WHY?

What in the world would make a man choose a picture of himself wallowing with swine to use as bait to attract women? What does he do on the first date...fart Yankee Doodle Dandy? Men.

Apparently, women like to hear the word HOT...and often. I had noticed that a lot of men have been using that term...the same men who wallow with swine...when I got an email from Rick telling me that I looked “hot”.

Imagine my surprise. I’ve known this man for 25 years and he has never, ever used that word in my presence before unless he was referring to the capsaicin levels in the Mexican food that I’d prepared. So, you have to call women “hot” often. And apparently, you must mention her eyes. Crap like “when I look into your eyes, I feel like I’m drowning in a pool of your soul” gets tossed around quite a little bit. I don't know why, that doesn’t even make sense.

The disparity between what a man thinks that a woman wants and what a women really DOES want is huge. No wonder everybody is all screwed up. Men are rocking when we want them to roll. And they seem to sprinkle a little bit of salt just as we decide that we’d like a little pepper.

Oh well. I’m so glad that I kept that profile...I would have missed pig man. Who knows, a little bit more of this here abstinence crap and I might just oink in his direction.

See ya,

Meg

I spent the night...

...in the hospital with Nurse Ratchett and now I’m home. I had a bad night last night and had to go to the emergency room. There was this hideous nurse there who was actually a BITCH to me. When she started the IV, she used my wrist and hit a nerve with the needle. Why she put it in my wrist, I do not know...but she did and I wanted to smack her.

I don’t usually tell people that I’m a nurse when I go to the hospital because they say stupid stuff like, “You’re a nurse, you should know better.” When I’m in the hospital, I’m not a nurse.

But this time, I had to say something because the nurse was SUCH a bitch and she kept doing dumb stuff like sticking me so many times when she obviously couldn’t do it. As a rule, you never stick a person more than twice. If you can’t do it in two sticks...you need to get someone else. So...after the fourth stick, I had to say something. But, she already had the needle in my wrist, sending sharp nerve pain down to my finger.

So...I shouted out to her...”Where in the hell did you go to nursing school? The Middle Eastern School of Saddam?”

She was not pleased and just kept getting meaner. So, I called her supervisor from my little ER room. That woman came down and saw to it that I had another nurse. But, apparently, they were all mad at me by that time and I had the worst time I could have possibly had so I took the IV out of my arm and left. I just walked my ass out of the hospital and went home. They haven’t called yet, I wonder if they think that I’m still there and waiting for food.

Nurses and doctors might make the worst patients...but that’s only because they can see what you’re doing wrong and call you on it. I saw what they were doing wrong AND...I called them on it.

Whatever...I won’t be going to that hospital again.

Unless of course I do what I did last night. I got myself arrested.

Yep...I did.

Guess what for?

Speeding?

Yep.

Driving on a suspended license...yes.

I wasn’t in Marietta so I didn’t know these cops. And, they didn’t know me.

When the cop told me that I was going to be arrested, I asked if I could take my heart medicine first. He asked what it was for...DUH! I told him it was for my heart.

Then, at the police department, I had a panic attack and the cops thought I was having a heart attack so they insisted that I go to the hospital. I told them that I would be fine after a few minutes, but they insisted and realizing that my options were the hospital or jail...I chose the hospital. When the doctor said that she was going to admit me, the cops decided not to take me to jail. They gave me an I-bond and left.

Then I was left all alone with the nurse from hell. So...after a brief attempt to wait out the wench nurse...I decided that I didn’t like the facilities so I left. I just got up, took out my IV and booked.

What a day I’m having!

Then, I came home and Rick called. He’s been having a bit of bad luck himself so I listened to him for a while and then he asked what was new with me. So, I told him.

As I was speaking to him, I was also trying to get online and I couldn’t. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on my living room floor. It took a minute to figure out where I was and then it took another minute to remember what had happened. It was NOT a nightmare, it really happened.

And then...after I thought about it for a minute longer, other things came to mind. Like the last thing that Todd said to me after we spoke last night..."Remember not to speed." I wish I would have remembered it last night. I'll be hearing about it when he calls me tonight, that's for damn sure. It's amazing how much fear a man can evoke from hundreds of miles away. Oh well. I doubt he'll do anything too bad...although he certainly has at least one, "I told you so." coming. I hate those. Especially when they're right.

So, for those keeping track...it’s three court dates now. One is Thursday, another is in early December and this one is in February. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing in January...but I’ll think of something. Maybe I’ll finally get to jail! Ya think?

See ya,

Maybe.

Meg

Hey Buddy...this one's for you.:):):)

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For some strange reason, when I do this...my nose doesn't look as big.

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I was so proud of myself that I had to come and tell you about it...I just ate the two most perfectly cooked soft boiled eggs in the history of soft boiled eggs! How cool is that? Well, when I look at those words, it doesn't seem so cool anymore. Well, as not to make a total waste out of this post, I want to send a shout out to Lori in some town near Tampa that starts with a B but I don't remember it. Oh well. Hi there Beth the Bug! Oh...I can call you Beth the Bath Bug now! LOLOLOL...I'm gonna call you Beth the Bath Bug from now on! I've been waiting for years to get you back for giving me this necklace charm:

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Dear Meg,

“...im 21 years old and i can make any woman happy. i know you really want one of us young men who know how to make you happy and make all of your freinds jealous of you. im well endowed and i have blue ribbed rubbers that will drive you crazy with ectasy....give me one reason why not...

If I hadn’t heard so many young “men” saying things like that, I would think that this email was a joke. But, for some reason, they DO seem to think that “mature” women such as myself are out there wishing we had a young studly man to “make our friends jealous.” I would be humiliated to tears if one of my friends caught me with a child. When I was 15, my friends might have been envious of me if I had a 21 year old, but ever since then, my friends know what I know...men who have been around for a while, preferably married in the past, are of far more use to a woman than any 21 year old could ever hope to be.

And...by the way there, youngin’...a 21 year old boy with a “blue ribbed rubber” is kind of like a bad pitcher with a paisley mitt.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again...give me a man who is at LEAST 40 years old and I’ll be happy. I discovered the value of men of that age long before blue ribbed rubber dude was born. Asking me for ONE reason why I have to decline the young man’s offer is like asking me to name my favorite movie...many come to mind immediately, but the list goes on and on.

First and foremost...although having sex with someone 26 years my senior may not be illegal, it SEEMS like an act of pedophilia. While I may not obey all of the traffic laws that are on the books, I do avoid committing felonies every single day of my life. Not because I’m afraid of jail, I’m not...but because I’m not a criminal. I wouldn’t do things that would get me tossed in the back of a squad car. I wouldn’t break into someone’s house, I wouldn’t hold up a liquor store and I wouldn’t screw some woman’s 21 year old baby. And there IS a woman out there somewhere who thinks that this guy is her baby.

It’s not that I wouldn’t hang out with a young man, I've had some fun with a few of them during this past year. But they all have the same problem as any man has without the maturity to handle it...they get all whiny and man-like. They bitch because you absent-mindedly took off your shirt near an open window or lost the car keys or broke the yolk or some such stupid shit and then they show you exactly how WRONG it is to be with such a young person. Only another young person would put up with that crap. Or an embarrassingly horny old man of course. They act like one of your kids only you can’t send them to their rooms or ground them. If you spank them, it isn’t corporal punishment, it’s some sort of domestic violence charge.

And on top of all of THAT...they AREN’T any good in the sack. If I had a few months to train one it’d be different. But I couldn’t put up with two Man Temper Tantrums, I’d be gone after the first one. And there is NOT a man on this planet who can avoid two assinine temper tantrums for any length of time. The difference is that the older men are USUALLY smart enough to shut up and walk away when they start acting all Man. A younger man turns red and has bulging blood vessels in his forehead. I wouldn’t mind if that happened during sex...but it’s not a good look for a fully clothed man.

Rick was in his twenties...maybe...let me think about this...24...when he was so very proud of his 6 hump marathon. It certainly was a VAST improvement over the previous attempts...but nothing plus nearly nothing is still just a shower I have to TAKE for nothing.

All in all, I would rather just wait for a 40 year old man. I happen to know where one is. I’m gonna go get me some of THAT. That poor guy. (She said as she cackled like the Wicked Witch of Whatever the hell the mean one was.):):)

See ya,

Meg

Good morning!

I’m up at some unGodly time again. By the time normal people read this, I will have been up for hours. I was bored so I decided to read some emails that have been sent to Kelli...my evil alter ego at that dating site that I used to go to. I took down my real profile but left up the nutty chick that I used to get fodder for this blog. I hadn’t read any of the responses to that profile in a long time because I’ve been speaking to someone every spare chance that I had.

Yesterday, I was reading them and I had forgotten how icky some of those guys are. They don’t even wait until they introduce themselves before they get offensive...they are offensive in their screen names and the subject lines. One guy named Cum to Alabama emailed Kelli and wants her to come down there and “experience his oral skills.” Another nut named himself “8 inches of fun.”

I can see a 13 year old measuring himself, but I don’t understand how a fully grown adult man can sit in his house with a tape measure and a stiffie, taking notes. Now, just exclaiming that you are “8 inches of fun” is no good, especially when I don’t know the parameters for how you measured yourself. Did you start in front to be honest or in the “way back area”...in which case you gave yourself an inch or two that you didn't deserve?

Another thing, when were these measurements taken? I was 5’ 8” when I was 13...I just measured myself the other day and I was just over 5’ 6”. So, obviously, we shrink a bit with time.

Then, there are the men who say what they’d like to do on a first date, obviously trying to further their own cause:

A good first date I think anything where I could learn more about her. I'm very interested in how she grew up And what she is passionate about.

In my entire life, I have never met a man who wanted to know how I grew up. And my passions have never been a topic of interest unless of course, they had to do with passion.

And the guys who just want e-sex have no class at all. If your big mission is to get “laid” online, you should at least have the good taste to sweet talk a woman before you send the first email saying:

hello 26 from bc canada you are very pretty and i have pics and a web cam wanna chat/play?

Seriously, how tough would it be to politiely mention a few little niceties first, like:

“Hello there...I am a very nice man. I have two dogs whom I love dearly. I like football. OK...wanna have e-sex?"

Oh, another thing, if you enjoy older women, just treat them normally, there’s no reason to dwell on her age:

I am looking for an older woman to play with. I am twenty seven and love the experience and sensuality of a mature lady

Now, I know that “mature” is just another word for “old”...using tricky words doesn’t soften the blow at all. I won’t mention that you are a little boy if you don’t remind me that I’m an old lady. The guy who wrote that email was screwed from the get go because his screen name contained the year of his birth which also happens to be the year of my son’s birth. I don’t care how old you or my son are...if you’re his age, you’re too young....period.

OK...here’s one thing that you men have to understand...women are not the visual creatures that you are. We don’t care what you can do on camera nor do we want to see you do it. So...wait until a lady asks before you make the following offer:

wanna watch me cum on cam for u?

It won’t work...Even if your screen name is GorgeousBoy.

Oh, and back to just ASKING outright, can you tell me what’s wrong with this email?

Can I come there for sex?

This was sent to Kelli by a 21 year old infant. So, I responded thusly:

At your age? I doubt it.

Well, never let it be said that 21 year olds aren’t as confident in their bedroom skills as any other man who’s fooling himself:

What's wrong with my age? I am strong and can drive a woman of any age wild. I think good sex doesn't depend on age. My interest on sexing with you has nothing to do with age. What do you think? I hope we can arrange for sex. Get back to me, if you have changed your mind. I hope you will. Thanks and I am looking forward to hearing from you

Thanks? Thanks for what? For insulting him and his sexual skills? There is NO WAY IN HELL that I would believe that a man under 30 can possibly possess the experience to back up this boy's statement.

Seriously, if you are not old enough to have voted in the last Presidential election...you aren’t old enough.

I could go on forever but I have things to do today. But...before I go, I want to post one more example of what NOT to do on your dating profile:

I hate crime. I hate criminals. I'll be glad to see every deadbeat dad, probational/parole violator, rapist, murderer, child endangerer, child abuser, wife beater, sex offender, prostitute, crack head, dealer, supplier, DUI, drivers with licenses suspended, no tag, no insured driver, reckless conduct, disorderly conduct put away in the county lock up. That's just job security for me, not to mention makes the neighborhoods just a little bit safer for all us law abiding citizens who work hard and go without some things to stay legal.

Can you imagine me dating someone like this? I spend a lot of time running away from men who think like this.

Well, I’m going to go get dressed for the day, this time I’m taking a shower and leaving the razors alone.

See ya,

Meg

PS...A few other things that turn me off...the term "hit me up", people who use the word "whenever" in the place of WHEN, (ex. "Whenever I bought this rubbie duckie I was drunk."), and people who use numbers in place of words...."I'm here 4 U and I want U 2." Oh, and needless to say, if you say that you are a "proffesionall"...I won't believe you.

I’m not having sex tonight...

...and I’m not going to the doctor this week. And after what I’ve just done, I don’t think I’ll be doing either of those things for a while. I just did something that I mentioned jokingly earlier in the week.

My toe was knocking drips of water of off of the spigot and you know how boring that can be. I looked around for something else to do and before I knew it, I had my Lady Bic in one hand and a can of Skintimate Shaving Lotion in the other. I started shaving, innocuously enough, with my arm pits. The next thing I know, I’m not going to the doctor OR having sex for a very long time. I wouldn’t know how in the world to explain what I just did to myself.

“Just shave the whole thing, Meg.” you might say. That’s no good either because a bald Sally is not undeserving of an explanation in itself. Oh well. As there is not a man nor are there stirrups anytime in my foreseeable future, I have time to work on this problem. Time alone could solve it only that would be a completely NEW problem, wouldn’t it?

My choices here aren’t really very good, whichever way you look at it. Either I will have some explaining to do or I won’t get laid until this mess grows back. One way or the other, I’m not a happy camper right now.

This never would have happened in the first place if the Bears game had been televised in Atlanta. I never would have been so bored that I started looking around for things to do in the bathtub. As the butler in the movie Arthur once said, “Bathing is a lonely proposition.” There’s no one to talk to at all. I used to have Rick come in and keep me company but he’s gone so now I just sit there like an idiot doing stupid things like I just did.

He also used to wash my back for me. I can take care of that because I broke my left arm and now it moves a little bit too much. The break was in my elbow and for some reason I have an amazing range of motion with my left arm so there isn’t one spot on myself that I can’t reach. I don’t need anyone to wash my back, but I sure could use someone to talk to when I’m in there.

Oh well, maybe someday. For now, I’ll just try and figure out a good story for why I have a crooked mohawk where I should have...something...almost anything else.

I should have just played with the toys that were in there. I did start playing with a whale but it kept sinking so that was just stupid. Then, I played with a couple of balls but that wasn’t any fun. It was about then that I picked up the razor.

I should have had bubbles. Those are never boring. There’s always a new shape in the suds and I never get bored when I take a bubble bath. Yeah, I never thought about that before, but it’s true. Bubble baths are good. I will take them from now on unless I’m in a shower mood. There.

Of course, I’m still left with a minor problem downtown but I’ve survived worse. I’ll deal with this easily enough.

You see, this is why it’s good to talk things out. Once you say them, they don’t seem so bad anymore. So, this is less and less of a problem all the time. Cool.

Now I’m bored again.

Hmm. This could be a problem.

The guy with whom I am hoping to consummate my divorce is supposed to be calling soon. That should un-bore me. Hopefully, I won’t do anything else too stupid before he does call. AND...I really hope that I won’t be making any further major changes to my person. It’s not that there isn’t room for improvement, I just don’t like to take chances and after what I did today, I’m particularly skittish.

Well, I suppose I should go look for something to do. I’ll work on the house, not me.

See ya,

Meg

I’m listening to music...

...and I haven’t had enough whiskey to understand the odd mixture of songs that I burned onto this CD. Now Love Shack is on, before that was Sugar Sugar by the Archies and Bungle in the Jungle, Jethro Tull. I must have been drinking a LOT of whiskey when I did that. I’m not sure what kind of mood to get into...a sweet little 60’s type mood or a pot smoking 70’s type mood or just one of those crazy “I don’t remember what the hell happened” moods of the 80’s.

My best friend actually married one of our patients who was a quadriplegic and every so often, he would drink too much. When he did, he acted like an ass. Since he was pretty much paralyzed, when he would get sloppy, mean drunk, my girlfriend and I would just dump him on the bed.

Once, he waited for us to leave the bedroom and called a cab to pick up more beer and drive it over. That worked quite well for him. I can’t do that because they STILL don’t sell beer on Sundays, even if a cab driver runs in to get it. I don’t get this, if you can go to a restaurant and drink, why can’t Papa John’s deliver beer? This just sucks.

Well, I still haven’t actually HAD any sex, but I have been doing a lot of thinking about it. It’s not quite the same, but THINKING about it is usually a bit more interesting than actually DOING it, although I would rather do it than think about it. Now...did that make any sense? I’d really like to combine what I THINK about with what I actually do. Well, first I better DO it than I can worry about spicing “it” up. Whatever. Cheers.

Oh, Todd just called me, I’ll mess with him for a while.

See ya,

Meg

Here I am...

...wide awake in a house with no one else in it. That’s usually how I prefer it but in the middle of the night, it gets a little freaky. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something living in my attic. It’s burrowing around up there right now. I don’t mind telling you that it’s more than a little frightening to me. I’m not gonna be stupid and open the attic stair/door/hall ceiling thing with the string hanging down from it, there’s no way to stop anything that might decide to attack when I pull the string.

I’m pretty sure it’s just one lone soldier, but there’s always the chance that it’s just a large army with one idiot who won’t shut up. Either way, I don’t have a fire thrower so I’m not going up there. I wish I had one of those huge assault rifles that Ripley had in Aliens. That looked like a pretty mean gun. I could probably go up there if I was packing one of those suckers. Short of that, I’m just gonna hope whatever it is isn’t eating my Christmas tree or and of my ornaments. With my luck, it’s chewing the cords off of my Christmas lights. My dog has been eating the cords off of electrical appliances downstairs, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something else eating them upstairs. So far the dog has gotten my alarm clock and my heating pad.

I was just thinking that today would be a good day to sit around this house getting drunk all day. Then, I remembered that it was Sunday and the only way to get alcohol on a Sunday here is to drive to a bar and drink it there and then drive home drunk. You can’t buy so much as one beer to take home and drink. If you haven’t bought a bunch of booze by late Saturday, you aren’t getting any until sometime Monday. That’s just so damned stupid.

I do have this bottle of sake that I’ve been looking at since April. I suppose it couldn’t be too bad after a few swigs. I drank gin straight once. That was pretty yucky until I had taken a few gulps. But I had already had a bunch of beer before I drank that, and that made the gin go down a little easier. And, since I can’t buy beer today, I would just have to drink the sake until it tastes good. Well, maybe not GOOD, but until it doesn’t gag me as much.

It’s still dark out this morning, do you think it’s too early to drink sake? I suppose it’s the right time somewhere.

I just took an assessment of my liquor holdings and they are as follows, one bottle of sake, one airplane-sized bottle of Tullamore Dew Irish Whiskey and a bottle of Triple Sec. Somewhere in this house I have a tiny bottle of tequila with a rubber nipple on it, but I don’t know where that is. I don’t even know why I have a bottle of tequila with a nipple on it...but I do.

OH! I just had a good idea, I can make an Irish coffee first and then see what happens! I have brown sugar and whiskey, besides the coffee, that’s all I need. Oh, I probably shouldn’t use yesterday’s coffee for my drink, so I’m gonna go and make another pot of that crap. BRB.

OK, the coffee’s perking. Or dripping, whatever coffee does nowadays. Now I’ll drink as I’m typing and you can watch my slow decline, like Charlie in Flowers for Algernon.

A watched coffee pot never boils. My current drink is in a box with a straw sticking out of it. Now THAT’S the way they should serve drinks in a bar. There wouldn’t be as much spilling nor would there be as many “beer in the face” tosses.

OK, my first drink is made. Now I’m afraid to taste it because I didn’t know how much whiskey to put in. The bottle is an ounce but it looks like more than one drink. So, I figured that I’d start with about a third of the bottle and work my way up from there. Ooh! That’s not bad at all. I could actually add a bit more.

Now I can taste that whiskey. OK.

I’m gonna drink a bunch of it then I’m going to come back and tell a bunch of secrets, how’s that? I may even go into that chat room at the bottom of this thing and wait to see if any other drunk people show up. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. Then, if I can find the word processor again, I’ll come back and type all screwed up in my drunken stupor.

Now, THAT’S entertainment.

Meg