This is fun...

...my father and his ex wife are bickering behind me right now. These yahoos could be in Paris right now bickering with Frenchmen but instead, they're arguing in my kitchen.

I want to go back to bed. She's whining that there was nothing at Normandy but a road "leading to nowhere and a bunch of sand" and the Mona Lisa was "behind a glass plate that you couldn't get with 15 feet of". Apparently, the trip was pretty much like that. She saw what she thought was a piece of cheese cake and argued with a Parisian counter boy who promised her is that cream pie...but she wanted it.

My dad said that she would slow her speech and speak loudly to people who didn't speak English. She argued with everyopne and I can believe that because I'm listening to her now.

Oh jeez, Dad is going to the store which means that I get to listen to her now. Everyone who knows me knows that no one should speak to me before I drink coffee but she's speaking to me now and I want to smack her. She's asking me the same questions over and over again. God help me.

Today I have to do their laundry and I can't wait.

Damn, this woman won't shut up...I have to go listen to her and make sounds like I hear her while I watch the morning news.

I don't know why my father woke me up...but I'm gonna get him for this.

Meg

The best laid plans...

...always go awry...especially when I've laid them. My father and his ex wife rang my doorbell this morning...well over 24 hours before I had expected them. Apparently, my step mother missed her cat so they gave up their last two evenings at the hotel in Paris and came home. That little idea cost them a thousand dollars.

But, I guess if you have as much money as she does, what's a grand? Anyway, now I have to play hostess so I'm off to do just that.

I'll be back when they go take a nap.

Meg

Good morning!

Well, freaky dude decided to leave me alone from now on. But, I have a feeling that I'll see him before too long. I had to threaten to call the police and I hate doing that...calling them, not threatening to call them.

Today is my last day to clean before my father gets back from Europe. I guess he's in Paris now, he's flying out of the Paris airport tomorrow. He'll come here for a few days and then he'll take his cat and his car and drive home.

My father has always been the type of man who can't stand cats. But, when he moved his ex wife in after she got sick, they got a kitten and apparently, my father fell in love with that stupid kitten. When they got to my house and brought their things in, the first thing my father said when he walked in the house with the last suitcase was, "Where's my cat?"

Not, "Where's that dumb cat of Jean's?", he asked where HIS cat is. Those are words that I never thought that I would hear from my father's mouth. He brags about how smart his cat is and how it plays "fetch" with a plastic ring off of a milk container. My father tosses it out onto the carpet and the cat brings it back to him. Anyone in our family would laugh if they saw Daddy the cat hater playing with that cat.

When they leave, I can take all of the baby gates down and then I won't have to step over them whenever I go from one part of the house to another. I'll be lucky if I make it without tripping over one of the gates and falling on my face. I'm surprised I've made it so far without falling over one of them.

I hope they make it home alright...I suppose that if he had lost Jean somewhere in Europe...he would have called me so I guess he still has her by his side. If the Europeans don't like us now, imagine what they'd think of us if Jean got lost over there. Her Alzheimers isn't too bad yet, she can still tell you her name and HIS name, but I wouldn't count on her to remember her address or the hotel that she's staying in.

Well, today I have to finish cleaning the house so that I can pass dad's white glove test. I've just about gotten the laundry finished so after that, I should just have to vacuum and clean the kitchen.

Of course, my granchildren are supposed to come over for the weekend and they'll get here tonight so whatever I clean up today, they'll mess up before they get back tomorrow.

Today is my daughter's birthday and my granddaughter's birthday. I sent my daughter beef sandwiches from Portillo's in Chicago. My brother sent me that stuff once before...it's a great gift idea for people who are from Chicago and might be missing Chicago food. I loved it when my brother sent it to me, I hope my daughter loves it as much. Oh, her boyfriend used to live in Chicago so he might enjoy them too.

OK, I'm going to go strip the beds so that all of my guests can sleep on clean sheets this weekend. Then, I'm going to eat some Fruity Pebbles and I'll be back later when my sense of humor has awoken.

See ya soon,

Meg

Damn...

...I tried to fool the server into letting me write 3 posts in chronological order. I typed them in the right order but pusblished them in reverse order. They still came up in the order they were written. Sorry about that. If you'd like, you can read the previous 3 posts in reverse order, beginning with the last one and scrolling up. Or, read them backwards and have them make no sense...whatever you please.

OK...I'm REALLY REALLY going to bed...starting...now!

Ciao,

Meg

OK then...

...I'm going to take a couple Xanax and call it a night. I'm sick of cleaning. By the way, another thing that you can do with a fabric softener sheet...you can wipe them over your TV screen so that it repels static electricity and dust. And, I...oh crap...stalker dude is calling me again.

I don't want to answer but I fear that if I don't...he'll just stop by. Well, now the phone has stopped wringing. I cannot abide guys like that.

They call it love. You know, I've said before that a relationship should be like two circles that overlap...you share some of your life and some of it...you keep to yourself. There are people who want to obliterate your circle and they are usually the ones who start off like this guy is trying to start.

I'll be damned if I'm going to give up any of my circle without a damn good reason. I like having my life like this now. It took some time, but I wouldn't let just any yahoo into it to fuck it up. I like having fun and I like having fun with different guys. Right now, I can do that. I won't give that up for just anybody. I never have...just ask Rick.

I wasn't exclusive with him until we were engaged. And, we had such a short engagement that it wasn't long before we married that I had my last date. I'll be damned if I can even remember the guy's name at this point...but it was right before Rick and I got married. And then...call me kookie...I gave up all the other guys on the ENTIRE planet!

That's a lot of guys. I was well on my way to making a good dent in the male population when I stopped for Rick. Now, I have some catching up to do. I have a feeling this guy isn't the, "Call me sometime next week." kind of guy.

Oh well, I'm going to bed.

Good night.

Meg

I don't feel too badly...

...about telling you about what happened at the meeting. Since I've been there, they've had two camera crews and a couple more reporters observing. Anyway, I mentioned no names and anger's a pretty general problem...a lot of people have anger issues. Don't you just hate people with anger issues?

They're almost comical. I can sit back and watch a person blow up over the dumbest things. Rick wasn't usually like that. He could get angry but until the end, he was never so volatile...he really, really didn't like me then...but when he did, he was usually relatively easy going. When he went off, he went off bad...but that wasn't very often. So, I'm not used to people who do get angry.

Do you remember the guy I told you about who was bugging me a while back? The one who asked questions that he has no right to ask? Well, he's calling me again. I wanted to keep a log of this in case the freak ever pulls an OJ on me. I can't believe that there are men who would act like this.

I've only met one other guy like that and I ended up buying a gun for protection after that happened. That was close to 20 years ago and the threat was so real that Rick bought the gun for me. I got to pick the gun, it was a 357 Magnum, 4 inch barrel. I test fired a few of them, the 38 had too much kick...it came back and smacked me in the forehead. So, I went with the 357. I don't know why, maybe it was just luck, but I was able to fire that one well so I got it. A 22 was too small for my purposes.

Back then, I was under the misapprehension that you could shoot anyone who crosses your threshold. I suppose in certain places, under certain circumstances, you could do that...but I couldn't then. That was in Roanoke, Virginia.

I had a cop friend who would take me practicing to the firing range and he told me that if I was in a second story window and the guy had a knife, I would have to jump out the window if I had a chance to before I could shoot the fucker who was attacking me. I still have a tough time believing that one...whatever. Luckily, I never had to find out.

OK, I better post this,

BRB.

Hey ya'll!!!

How ya doin'? Ahm juust faahhn, thayynk yuuu.

Did you pick up on the Southern accent I added there? If not...look again and see if you don't hear it this time.

Anyway, because of a problem with my word processor, I'm having to type my posts directly into this fucker and that's never a good thing. I have lost two books full of posts this way in the past. But, since I don't have a choice, I'm just going to do the best that I can.

Oh, I have an idea...Ealier, I went to my drunk class. It wasn't bad, as I've said before, I kind of enjoy it. The people there are great. We're sworn to confidentiality but I think I can safely tell you this. Every week, the guy asks the group what they feel like talking about. Tonight, someone said, "Dealing with anger." So, that was the theme of the evening.

The guy who leads the meeting talks and asks questions. People all have a chance to speak or just make comments. During tonight's discussion about anger, some guy went off on a tangent about what happens when he gets angry.

He said, "I feel so mad that I want to fight someone if they cross my path. I'm waiting for someone to give me a reason to start a fight and once I start, I can't stop. I get so mad that I want to hit someone."

I piped up and said..."That's PMS."

The place roared. That was fun. Anyway, I went home and started cleaning things. I've done laundry, dusted and stuff like that. As I was doing my laundry, I had a thought...do you have any idea what all you can do with a fabric softener sheet? I thought about that as I was shoving a few in my slippers tonight before I tossed them into the dryer.

Anyway, I bet post this...I'll be right back.

Meg

An hour later-(I just realized that I never finished my idea and now I've forgotten what it was. (The one I mentioned in the first paragraph.)

My daughter met...

...George Clooney yesterday. She called me while I was out eating dinner to tell me. I used to live in California so I know that you will occasionally run into famous people.

But my daughter works on the managerial staff of the The Bevery Hilton so she meets a bunch of them. Unfortunately, she doesn't know who half of them are, like Art Linkletter...but she does meet them.

She meets them walking through the hotel...I had to get all Lucy Ricardo with famous people to meet them. I don't count Springsteen, the Stones, the Who or any people that I saw on stage, anyone can see them. Just counting people that I really met, I can start with Bob Hope. Not a bad place to start...'ey?

He was at Parent's Weekend at Western Illinois University back in the 70's. My boyfriend and I, and another couple were stalking the top floor of the University Union to find him. The other chick knew what room he was in and I was the one with the balls to knock. He couldn't have been sweeter. His manager answered the door and told Mr. Hope that there were some college kids at the door and he said, "Let them in!"

We went in and chatted for a while with one of the most famous people of the last century. He wasn't any taller than my hip, but he was a sweetie.

I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard and ran into Ron Palillo (Horschak from Welcome Back Kotter). Actually, I was walking backwards when I thought I saw him and as soon as we made eye contact, I walked backwards into a telephone pole, hitting my head and looking foolish in front of Horschak. Do you know how hard it is to look foolish in front of such a fool?

Then, I was in line at a walk up bank outside of San Francisco and I met Mr. Brady. My neighbor introduced me to her ex (whom I had never heard of and was not impressed by!) Harrison Ford. That night I also met Sally Field and Fonzie. I saw Shaft walking down the street in L.A., James Coeburn at a gas station and Ivander Holyfield at an airport. I introduced myself to all of them. Oh...I met Charleton Heston at a political rally. And at my cousin's condo, I met Farrah Faucett who was there visiting Dick Van Patten's wife. So, I met the Van Patten's and Farrah. She also held my son while we were in the pool at the complex one weekend. Can you imagine being able to tell people that you were swimming with Farrah Faucett? Well, my son can do that!

Working in movies, I've worked with a bunch of people but I don't know who a lot of them are. You see them all the time, but you don't know who they are, just that they're famous. Working on movies, I've met William Sanderson (Here's my other brother Darryl..."), The Sex in the City red head, Kathy Bates, one of the guys from Oh Brother something something (not the Clooney guy) and that Shakespearan actor who played FDR in Warm Springs. I've forgotten most of their names...it's that over 40 thing.

Dating a disc jockey, I met a bunch of late 80's bands like The Bodines and The Violent Femmes. We got to go backstage and party with them. (That was during one of the times Rick dumped me.)

Dating a Chicago Bear, I met a bunch of Bears and Packers.

Hanging out at Wrigley Field on the Cubs off days when I was a kid, I met a bunch of Cubs and one day I even met a bunch of Phillies like Tug McGraw, Larry Bowa and Ollie Brown.

Doing stand up, I've met Jeff Foxworthy, Ron White, Robert Townsend and Eddie Izzard.

Doing freelance writing I've met Neal Bortz and Cynthia Tucker, not to mention countless reporters.

I've also met a bunch of politicians doing political work, as an adult and as a kid, for my parents. They were very politically active. I remember stuffing envelopes for Barry Goldwater for my father. I also remember during one of the elections in which my father ran for Congress, we met Ronald Reagan. It was the 76 presidential election and Reagan lost to Ford who eventually lost to Carter.

I've forgotten more of them than I can remember. And, a bunch that I do remember, I can't remember their names. And then there's some who's name I never knew, I just knew that they were "someone". Oh, Phil Donahue! The day I embarrassed my second ex! How could I forget him! Oh, and the big bald guy from Jerry Springer! I could go on and on.

But, I need some coffee. I woke up in the middle of the night and made apple cinnamon pancakes so I can't eat breakfast, other than some fruit. I'm going to eat some fruit and suck some coffee and I'll be back later!

Meg

Butt 1...

Posted by Picasa

Butt 2...

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Butt 3...

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Damn...

...there's something in my eye and I have about a ton of mascara on. I don't want to say that I'm wearing too much...but suffice it to say that if I were to show up on the streets of Baghdad, they would stone me in a heartbeat. I'd be mush, like the meatball that rolled into the garden and under a bush.

I've heard it said that we American women are "disrespectful" to the Muslims because we wear our American clothing in some places. I don't get that. I don't yank on their burkas when they walk through the airports here with nothing but their eyeballs popping out. It doesn't offend me that they dress the way they do. I must say, though, I don't understand why these women dress like that once they're out of the Muslim world. You'd think that they would stay here and put on some sweat pants, just for a day or two. But, like that slave of Thomas Jefferson's who came back from France with him, I guess they think that what they know is normal.

How it could possibly be normal to cover up your entire body except for the eyeballs, unless of course, you're a man, I do not know. But, I don't take offense at it. Why should they take offense at the way that I dress?

If they think that I'm not covering up enough, why aren't they bugging those dudes in Africa who wear those huge pokey things on their...members. You know those three foot long pointy things? That's pretty inherently offensive, but I don't complain. I just shake my head and look away.

You know what they need? They need some old American reruns. Let them see how nice the Cleavers and the Bradys had it. While they're at it, let them see Lucy and The Waltons. TV messed us up, maybe it'll do the same thing to them.

So, why aren't we just broadcasting old TV reruns over there? We could even send the old radio shows over there. Of course, we'd have to dub them all into Arabic, but we could do that.

Yeah, that's the answer. No more war...let's just send them the same television crap that made us like we are.

Ya think?

Meg

It just occurred to me: Part Three...

...something else just occurred to me now. I've been trying to contact a certain group of people by email and, as Brad Pitt said in Thelma and Louise, "I'm not having a rat's ass" bit of luck looking up all of the email addys. I've emailed a couple of them about something special, but I've decided to just post this to the rest of them.

Could the following ladies please email me at the email addy below?

Anne Arky
Laureal
Mackenzie1975
Solaris Gal
Shattered

I'm forgetting one of two but for now, I need to email those ladies. I've created a new email account especially for our little group.

OK then...now I have to clean the kitchen. Let's see...it's Wednesday and my father will be back Saturday afternoon. If I start right now, I might be done cleaning by the time he gets here. He's frolicking around Paris right now and I have to do laundry.

OK...I think it's time that I got started so I have to go but when I take a break, I'll pop back in.

See ya!

Meg

Added a half an hour later:

Yeah, yeah...I know. I forgot to post the email addy. Oops.

I said that I was an airhead.

blog.chx@gmail.com

It just occurred to me: Part Two...

...the thing that occurred to me is gone now...that was the last post which was part one of this post. I posted it fast because I was typing right into the blog server and that's very dangerous. The stupid thing can quit on me at any given moment, sending everything I've written, my thoughts, my most soulful feelings...into oblivion forever.

But, here I am, doing it again. I love to live on the edge.

Someone asked who the person was who sent me the "threat" below. I've decided not to say anything about that because I see that they were funcuntioning under a huge misapprehension. And...part of the message said that, "I've never said anything bad about you..." and that's true, so I'll just leave her out of this. I don't even know the woman so for me to even try to rag her would be stupid.

BUT...if she had boned some other chick's man...I'd get her ass good.

Seriously, I get the impression that she is a fine person. I've never heard anything negative about her at all. And, she's been around for a while so I bet she even sees the situation for what it is. Or for what it was...whatever.

OK...I think that I had better post this or lose it.

BRB.

Meg

This part of my first serial post. Ooohh, that gives me an idea.

It just occurred to me: Part One...

...that my dog would bite...but as far as I know, I'm the only person he's ever bitten. I wonder why that is?

He bites me when I'm making him do something he doesn't want to do and overpowering him. (I'm amazed that when it comes down to it, I overtake a hundred pound dog everytime. He weighs as much as I do and he's all muscle...and, you should see my vacuum cleaner...hair.) He doesn't break the skin, he does make a small dent in my hand, though.

Right now he's being sweet, well...he was being sweet when I started writing this, now he's being a dick to the other, older dog who wants nothing more than to take Rick's place holding the couch down. I now have a pretty damed good replacement for Rick.

I feed it a couple of times a day and I make it move when I want to lie down. It stares off into space or just falls asleep. But...it really really likes me.

That dog would never, neither of my dogs, for that matter, would ever have another master on the side. They don't sneak off on the weekends eating food off of some other woman's porch. I never catch my dog humping anyone else's leg.

All in all, I do like having the stupid dogs around. It's a good idea for anyone who's alone. It takes your mind off of yourself because you HAVE to do certain things for a dog and that takes a lot of time. I'm glad I got them both.

Of course, that one dog of mine does bite me. What the heck is he thinking when he does that? It's only when I take control of him, and I usually have him by the collar. He reaches his big head over and bites my wrist, forearm, hand...whatever he can reach. His mouth is pretty big so he usually reaches something. I feel like punching him in the head when he does that.

Especially when he hits a nerve with that huge canine tooth...I want to rip his ears off myself.

Anyway, he just walked into his kennel and laid down. He must be tired. I should just bite the bastard back. I bet he wouldn't expect that.

Before I lose this, I'm going to post what I have so far. I'm typing this straight into the blog server, very dangerous. I'm taking a chance even taking the time to tell you this so...wait, I'll be right back.

Meg

Dear Meg,

"OH, by the way, I feel that it's sooo easy to pry a good percentage of married man away from their wives. It's such a no-brainer. Wouldn't you agree, ladies? Especially if a man's been married for over 5 years."

At some point, if the man has a weak constitution, you're right. They can easily be swayed.

Rick told me that our "sex life wasn't as intense as it used to be". What the hell did that mean? After making love for 25 years, what the heck is supposed to happen?

A deeper love, that's what. But, those horny bastards that think with their twisted pricks will go for it every time. Rick didn't realize that with that one comment, he ackowledged the affair. He acknowledged it with quite a few different comments, actually.

Did I ever tell you about the time that I went to the store and when I got to the car, I had forgotten my money? I went back into the house to get it and when I got to the bedroom, Rick was sitting on the floor whacking off to the slanted recpetion of some sex channel that we didn't get. Now, that's entertainment.

Him and his twisted penis...just a shaking and a jerking...LOLOLOL...I wish I had a camera!

And don't ask, I don't know what was wrong with his dick. People have written to say it sounds like he has priapism...whatever the hell that is. Even a nurse like myself doesn't run into that very often. How many men realize that their "manhood" is deformed? Not many. I bet Rick thinks his penis is normal. But...oh no...it is not.

Imagine my surprise the first time I got a handful of that mess. Also, it had a mind of it's own and would go in whatever direction it wanted to go...that made it tough to use.

But, like a breach baby, it found it's way. That way might have been sideways or halfways...but it worked, sort of. I tried to fix it but it just kept going faster and faster. Oh well.

What the heck was I talking about? This is why I shouldn't sign on until I've had my coffee. I don't know why I'm talking about Rick's dick and it's shortcomings. Oh! I have a picture! Let me find that sucker for you.

BRB.

Meg

OMG!!!

You guys might not know this but I have a stat counter on this blog and it shows the IP's of people who come here. I can't do anything with them, I wouldn't know how to if I knew what to do with them. All I do is watch them to see what countries the hits come from.

Anyway, the IP sometimes gives the domain and with that, I can go to that domain. I can't get into your account, but I can go to your sign on page. Say you work at Coca Cola...I could get to their home site, but I also could do that by going to cocacola.com if I wanted to. I don't have a user name or a password, but I can go to the home site.

Once I clicked on what I thought was an IP and it took me to a tag-board with an ongoing conversation. I couldn't say anything to them, I could just read what they were writing.

Then, check it out...they started talking about me! It was last summer and I posted some of what they were saying on my blog and within a few minutes, one of them had read my blog and they thought that I had hacked into their thingie.

I'm flattered that so many think so highly of my computer skills.

Well, I did that today when I saw an IP from Whitefish, Montana. While I was at the sign on page of the domain, centurytel.net or something like that...I checked out the local weather and what movies were playing. Then, I read the local news, left the site and went on my way to the next place.

A few hours later I got a message that I didn't understand. Here is part of it:

You have gone into my private files and now know my name...You, my sweet lady, do not know my strength.

So, since I didn't understand it, I ignored it.

Then I put two and two together and figured out what this person was talking about. She thinks that I've hacked into her "personal files". Oh well. But she is wrong about having her name...I didn't have a clue who's domain site that was. Until she signed the message...now I know who it is. Suffice it to say that it's someone from Rick's "camp". Now I know who's been coming to the blog from Whitefish and Kalispell Montana, they're both the same IP's.

Whatever. I wonder what her strength is? Ya think that it's like a super hero strength? Maybe she can fly. If so, I better keep an eye out over the skies of Marietta.

Alas and a great big sigh.

Meg

"I love you, but I'm not in love with you".

I took that quote straight off of another blog but I could have plucked it out of my memory from when Rick said it to me. I wonder how many people think that quote came off of their own blog?

Cheaters, male or female, are so fricking predictable. I have to assume that since Rick said that and I found it on another person's blog, a lot of those emotional thugs must say the same damn thing.

Rick was a huge emotional thug. Like Marty McFly's father said, he "just doesn't like...confrontations." That made Mr. McFly a bit of a coward and it makes Rick one as well. A real man would have been honest about what was going on, I certainly gave him more than one oppoturnity to tell me what was happening. I asked him over and over and over again to tell me what was wrong. but, he said "Nothing."

Nothing was wrong, until I found out about his wopig. Then, I was the wife from hell and everything that I did was wrong. Everything. But, that's OK, if I would just stop doing all of those things, everything would be fine. So, I jumped through all of his hoops, trying like an idiot to keep my marriage together when there was nothing that would have worked. Nothing.

But, that didn't stop that emotional thug from raising the hoops higher and higher. Only when I was totally sapped of strength from the cancer and the hoop jumping, did I stop jumping through those hoops. And then...he left.

That's OK. This McFly has no time machine. He can't ever change out of being a coward, that's what he is and that's what he will die being.

I love karma...

DEAR ABBY:

I ended a relationship with "Bill" after I discovered evidence that he was also sleeping with another woman. I later learned that Bill had had multiple relationships while he was with me. I also found out that almost everything he'd told me about his life was a half-truth.

As part of a healing process, I apologized to Bill's ex-wife, "Donna," for any pain my relationship with him had caused her. She was generous and reached out to assure me I had been the victim of a diagnosed sexual psychopath...

ROFLMAO!!!!!!


Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahaha.

Ha.

Haha.

Hahaha.

Meg

Yep...

...our Northern neighbors are certainly not immune to the marital ups and downs that we seem to suffer. Hockey players are sort of Canadian royalty, and they attract teeny boppers and wopigs, just like American sports stars and American trash.

Tie Domi has been playing footsies with a liberal women's rights booster who doesn't seem to respect the rights of women who are married to men that she wants. Belinda Stronach was named in court papers by Domi's wife as the other women in their little triangle.

Neither Domi nor Stronach have admitted to their fling, nor have they denied it.

What I find especially sickening is the comment that Domi made when questioned about his wife's allegations:

But sources close to the couple _ by which I mean the alleged couple, Tie and Belinda _ told the Star that the purported pair feel broadsided by the incendiary contents of Mrs. Domi's divorce application, with Tie particularly frantic about how such open hostility will affect their kids.

So, he's worried about what the accusations will do to his kids? Why didn't the bum worry about his kids when he was performing the acts that he was accused of? Suddenly he is dreadfully concerned for his children's well being. I doubt that he was thinking about the well being of his children when he was screwing the wopig that supposedly cares about women and children.

And, being a bit of a bully as well as a bum, Domi threatened his wife:

She maintains that, when confronted, Tie urged her not to hire a lawyer; that he would give her $1 million in cash and $1.5 for their palatial North Toronto house. "He told me that if I did hire a lawyer, I would `get nothing' ... He has told me he has many powerful and influential friends (including Belinda Stronach) who are `on his side and who don't want to hear my stupid sob stories about him and Belinda'. And he has told me that I had better `leave Belinda out of this.''

How does a wife leave the wopig out of a divorce when the wopig is the reason that the divorce is occurring? What is she supposed to say, "He's a great guy, any woman would be thrilled to have him. I just want a divorce for no good reason."?

"Stupid sob stories"...oh, that makes me want to puke. I would have loved to have heard the stupid sob story that he gave the home-wrecking wopig to get into her pants. Of course, from what I read about her in the Toronto Star, she probably didn't need to hear any sob stories. She seems to screw whomever she wants to screw and when she's done, she moves on to another fool. Her current fool cheated on his wife once before but promised that he would never do it again if she took him back. Well, she took him back. But, like I said in the post that I wrote this morning...cheaters cheat. So, naturally, he did it again.

I can't blame a wife for taking her husband back...hell, we want to believe them when they say they are sorry, don't we? But, all we get when we forgive a wandering husband is a wandering husband who has gotten away with it before so they have less reason to be faithful than they had in the first place. Now they believe that they can get away with it again and that the dimwits that we are will take them back when they're done and/or caught.

What I don't understand is why a man would want a known "ball crusher" in the first place. That male ego is an unbelievable prevaricator...telling men that they are different and not ONLY different, but BETTER than other men. Certainly Domi is such a swell guy that this wopig would never dump him!

Damn, I'm glad that I was just stupid...I can learn to be a bit smarter. But, what is this guy going to do with his balls once she's done with them? They'll still be there forcing testosterone into his blood stream which will just go to his brain and convince him that he's "the man" and that he can obtain and keep any woman that he wants.

I can't wait to hear how this ends up...or should I say, I can't wait UNTIL this ends...I think that we all know how it will end. I just wonder who will dump who first, the lying cheat or the ball crusher?

Ciao,

Meg

I got a comment...

...that I couldn't publish because of how long the link was. But, I did want to show it to you guys so I'm going to try to post it here:

Hi Meg!

We have wopig-cheatinghusband-cheated on wife case going on in my City. I wanted to email the newspaper article to you (yes it made the news!) but don't have your email address :(The "players"? A local politician, a local hockey hero. The "victim"? Hockey Hero's wife...who forgave him an earlier cheat.

http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article
&cid=1159221039332&call_pageid=968332188492&col=9
68793972154&t=TS_Home

If that link doesn't work, go to torontostar.com. It's front page.

Love your blog as always!

Diana.

Yikes!!!

One of my blog buddies found something in her salad...and it wasn't spinach!

http://the-meaning-of-lifeand-other-stuff.blogspot.com
/2006/09/mexico-sucks-too.html

I had to show you guys that. Now, how healthy is salad? Damn, I love salad. Why couldn't that have been in brussel sprouts?

Meg

This is one of the reasons that people have lost their moral compass.

Good morning!

I'm very cold this morning...the hard nipple cold of an early fall morning. I suppose it'll be warm again before the day is out so I'm not going to turn on the heat, but in the meantime, I'm shivering. I hate waking up without someone warm to cuddle up with. Oh well, could be worse.

I have a blog buddy who just found out that her hubby was cheating on her...again...with the same wopig. I can't blame the woman for trying, hell, I don't even know how many times Rick cheated on me. But, I always went back, as soon as he found out that I was getting on with my life. That was so stupid of me. I can't blame anyone but myself after the first time. I knew that he was a cheater and I had already been married to one before so I knew that cheaters cheat, and they don't stop. I suppose there might be one or two cheaters who saw the errors of their ways and stopped screwing strange people, but I can't think of one.

There are two kinds of people, those who cheat and those who don't cheat. You can't make one out of the other. Cheating isn't like forgetting an anniversary, you can remind a guy to buy you an anniversary gift...but you can't remind a guy not to fuck other women if he is so inclined. Of course, now is time for my disclaimer, women cheat too and there are decent men out there who don't cheat.

That's one of the things that annoys me so much. There are men who don't cheat and one of the guys I gave up to go back to Rick might have been one of those men. Hell, the guy I left to merry Rick in the first place might have been a non-cheater and I let him go. He's probably married to some lucky woman now, not cheating on her.

Even if that guy would have cheated on me, he had a bunch of cash so I would have been cheated upon in style instead of in Gogia.

Then, there was the guy who looked exactly like Woody Harrelson. I left him to go back to Rick and that was just stupid. But, not stupid enough to stop doing it...I also gave up the chance to be with a really, really good looking guy that truly had the hots for me. He knew Rick was cheating on me and he tried to get me to leave him. But, all I did was leave the state with Rick when he wanted to leave the scene of his most recent crime. And, I'll never know how many good men that I missed just because I was with Rick instead of being alone. So, now...here I am, rather late in life and I'm just sitting here, shivering alone in the morning.

OK, well, I've learned my lesson...I'll never stay with a cheater again. But what good is that? I'll be dead soon, if my family's genes stay the way they are. I'll croak before I'm 65 like my mother and her mother so that leaves me less than 17 years. Now, if I had done the smart thing and left Rick 17 years ago, after the first time that he cheated on me...I wouldn't have wasted all of that time. So, to my friend who's hubby is doing it again, I'm sorry. I know how much that hurts.

But, you're young enough to get on with your life...don't do what I did...just take this chance to find a decent man so that your hubby will see that you are worthy of a man who doesn't cheat. By then, he'll be stuck with the wopig that he deserves and that will make him miserable...I promise.

I read that you had "promised not to talk about" the wopig on your blog. Whaddup with that? She promised not to fuck your husband...so write about her everyday. If you don't want to, give me her name and I'll do it. I don't mind outing cheaters...I can do it all day long. Let them sue me. First of all, I'm just stating the facts and second of all, I have nothing to sue for. What do they want? My couch? Let 'em have it. I'll sit on the floor.

I know now is not the time to figure out how lucky you are, but that day will come if you let the fool go on about his life. Let him lie to the wopig while you live a decent life. You deserve that and so do I.

There's just one more thing that I have to say and that is to BE YOUR OWN BEST FRIEND! Would you tell your best friend to take the guy back? Or would you tell her to let him go and then get on with her life? You know what advice you would give a friend, now treat yourself like a friend and tell you what to do.

If you want to read about my friends recent discovery, check out her blog:

http://totallyshattered.blogspot.com/

Now, have a great day and I'll be back later.

See ya,

Meg

Hello!

It's a beautiful day outside and I'm happy today! I'm happy because my team won yesterday. They're 3 and 0 now, and all 3 wins were against teams in their own conference. I'm not just regular happy that they won yesterday, I'm tickled pink and super happy because of the team that they beat. They beat the Vikings and the Vikings are Rick's favorite team. (Not because he lives in Minnesota, just because Minnesota is the closest team to the barren wasteland that he lives in and the only team that they show on TV there.)

I hate living in a place that doesn't show the Bears play. I haven't seen one Bears game this year but, thanks to the internet, I can get the play by play as it happens and that's what I did yesterday. I sat in front of my computer, watching the scores change and the plays update. And, I enjoyed it.

From what I saw online, it was a damn good game. I would have liked to watch the Bears beat the Vikings on TV. I'm sure that Rick did but as long as the Bears won, I'm OK with the way that I watched it.

My father and his family used to sit around the radio and listen to sporting events. I asked him if they really enjoyed that and he said that they did. He said they didn't have anything else so they didn't know that they were missing television.

One of my dad's sisters told me that she and my father wanted to watch some famous fight. I forget who fought that day, but it was a very famous fight. My father and my aunt made themselves sandwiches and snacks to eat while they listened to the fight. They spent the afternoon getting ready for the fight but nothing could have prepared them for what happened, there was a knock out in the first round. All they really had to do to get ready for that fight was to stop in front of the radio and stand there for a minute, then they could have walked away.

I actually had much, much better technology than my dad had when he was a kid but all I could get were two sentences that someone had typed and the score. No one called the game for me. I looked like an idiot cheering at the computer. At one point I decided to call the game myself and I have to say, I did a great job. Unlike the bimbos the networks put on the sidelines for no good reason, I know something about football.

I've never understood why they stick pretty girls who know nothing about football on the sidelines to speak to the players. Those women are football idiots. They know NOTHING about the game. These women wouldn't know an audible from a Hail Mary pass and yet they get jobs annoying us. I don't get that.

I just got my Happy Meal toy and let me tell you, it's a doozy. It's a small bracelet with a Mermaid on it. You pull the mermaid up and there's a mirror and some lip gloss inside. I like this thing.

I've had to fight with a few 3 year olds in my attempts to keep my own Happy Meal toys in the past. The kid sits there like a dog sits next to the dinner table, waiting for their birthright...the stuff that gets dropped.

3 year olds think that any toy in the area is their toy...especially if there is no other kid in the room. What adult wouldn't give them the toy? The parents always do. Well, I don't and the little brats just have to deal with it. I had a set of candy filled Flintstones toys from when the Flintstones movie came out. I had them for years. This 4 year old boy was at my house and went into my bedroom where I had the toys sitting on my dresser. My kids were teenagers and not about to steal my toys so I could safely put them out like that. But, this brat went running where he shouldn't have been running and he saw my toys.

One of my big problems is the mothers. The mothers always want me to give their kid my toy just to shut them up. Well, I won't do it. The 4 year old's mother wasn't any different. She wanted me to give the kid my Flintstone toys. I finally just told her that they were full of 7 year old candy and she agreed that perhaps he shouldn't have them after all.

Why is it that everyone expects a grown up to give up any toy they encounter? I like my toys. I have a Minnie Mouse Pez dispenser that I've had for years and although her neck is sort of broken, I still carry her around. Her neck may be a bit messed up but her belly is always full.

OK, I’m going to go act like it's daytime and get dressed.

See ya,

Meg

Lorraine Coyle Koppell...

...is an attorney representing a man who cheated on his wife. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, even cheaters deserve a lawyer in a divorce. But the behavior of this woman is, in my opinion, the reason that 2,000 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean is nothing more than a good start.

Attorney's are officers of the court and although I'm not sure exactly what that means, I'm pretty sure that officers of the court are supposed to know the law. Even if this woman was absent from law school the day that they gave the lecture about not speaking directly to an adversary who has an attorney, you would think that she would have enough class to simply honor a letter from another attorney requesting that she stop harrassing his client and that she contact the law office directly.

Instead, Mrs. Koppell wrote a letter to the woman threatening her with a restraining order after one of the husband's co-workers ran into the wife on the street. The wife was waiting to meet someone about a rental property when one of her husband's co-workers walked up to her and began a conversation. The co-worker badgered the wife for an answer to the following question:

"Why do you insist that your husband is sleeping with Colleen Lombardi?"

Apparently the husband and his mistress have totally thrown their personal lives into their work environment. When I think of Colleen Lombardi and the women that my husband worked with and screwed, I have to wonder if there's anyone watching to see if these people work at all. I want one of those jobs.

Anyway, the co-worker went back to the mistress to tell her about running into the wife. Then, the mistress told the husband who told his attorney who threatened the wife with a restraining order. That attorney is Lorraine Coyle Koppell. Mrs. Koppell knows that her client had no basis for a restraining order based upon those facts but she sent the wife a letter threatening just that very thing. And...she sent the letter to the wife's home address threatening to have her served at work where "one of your co-worker's might interecept the complaint". Who's harrassing whom here?

You can't get a person in front of a judge without some sort of probable cause. Unfortunately, Mrs. Koppell realizes that there is no such law protecting us from crazed attorneys who like to accuse people of crimes without any reason whatsoever. When the woman's attorney called Mrs. Koppell to complain about her behavior, Mrs. Koppell told the attorney to "take a Valium". She must be one helluva swell dinner date, wouldn't you think?

And then, just to be a bitch (I can't think of any other reason) Mrs. Koppell sent the letter to the wife under her maiden name, even though Mrs. Koppell knows the woman's married/legal name.

Let's see...another attorney asked her not to do that, nothing that she accused the wife of would have a legal basis for any of the threats that the nut made against the wife and she got the wife's name wrong on purpose to be hurtful. How professional is this?

That's not all. This nut lady "was a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in Boston." But don't read too much into that...according to democratic pundit Andrew Wolf of the New York Sun, "The process that put her in her seat illuminates much that is wrong with the Party."

And, she ran for a seat in the New York State Legislature, prompting the following comment from democratic party member Mike Bendetto, "When I first heard that Lorraine Coyle Koppell was running, I was pretty annoyed about it." Benedetto was so upset by Mrs. Koppell's candidacy that he ran for the seat himself. He charged that Mrs. Koppell may be running as a way of getting "revenge" on Roberto Ramirez for what he claimed was "two earlier failed efforts on her part to obtain a judgeship." He continued on to say that, "I couldn't take the chance that lightning would hit, and Lorraine Coyle Koppell could actually win. That's when I inserted myself into the race."

Luckliy for the state of New York, this woman didn't win that campaign, losing (according to an email from a consituent of Mrs. Koppell) to a felon. But, unfortunately for a New York woman going through a divorce, she is still practicing law. But, she is also still calling that woman at home, bullying her while she has an attorney that she should be speaking to.

Hopefully, with the help of opposing attorneys and a well written letter to the New York State Bar Association, Mrs. Koppell won't be allowed to do these things for much longer.

Damn, damn, damn...

...I almost did it. I almost painted a wall. It's not even much of a wall in the first place. It has a door and sliding glass doors so there's not much to paint. I did have to tape off everything and put an old sheet down, but that wasn't much of a job. I figured that I could knock out one wall in an afternoon.

Hell, Rick could do an entire room in less than one afternoon, surely I could do one stupid wall. And actually, I did pretty well. There was one surprise, it didn't cover WHITE very well. I wouldn't have thought that white would be easy to cover but I'd be wrong.

After two coats I noticed that the edges didn't match the rest of the walls. So, I knew then that another single coat wouldn't do the job. I used every last drop of paint out of that quart and it still needs another coat to look perfect. So, now I have to get another ride back to the store. I sucked a bit of dick for the ride yesterday but today, I'm just not in the mood. I have too many things to do. I finally got the gutters cleaned out but now I've got to trim the hedges. That bastard, Rick, is supposed to be doing this stuff.

I hate doing man stuff. My hands have burgundy speckles all over them. That's just not right. It has totally screwed up my manicure. Doing the dishes won't help my hands either but I still have to do that crap, too. I'm rather annoyed about that.

OK, I just got done speaking to my friend about her female attorney nemesis. The situation is worse than I thought. this woman is, in my opinion, a tad "off of her nut"...as some character said of George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life". I've done a bit of investigating on the woman and I can't wait to tell you about her. I'm going to go write that post now, come back after a while and read what I've written.

Ciao,

Meg

I'm simmering my beef stoganoff...

...and I thought I'd take a break. The table is set and I'm all ready, just letting the meat get a little bit more tender. I love having someone to cook for. Occasionally...I wouldn't want to have 3 meals ready every single day. It's tough enough for me to make one meal for myself. If I didn't think that my son might walk in the door hungry at any given moment, I probably wouldn't even do that much. I guess that's the mother in me. But, tonight I'm cooking for someone else and that means that I get to make something really nice and that it'll be appreciated...I hope.

I do love to cook. I could do it every day for a living if there was someone who wanted to pay a woman with absolutely no culinary training beyond 7th grade home economics class. The year that I was in 7th grade was the last year that education was structured so that only girls took home ec and only boys took shop. That year some sort of bill was passed that made it unconstitutional for those classes to be separated like that. No more classes of girls sitting around little tables, cooking each other cinnamon toast and sloppy joes. No more classes of girls sitting around sewing machines, making little aprons for their mothers. I don't know what the boys were doing but what ever it was, it didn't happen after that year, which if I remember correctly, was 1970.

You know, they screwed us. They raised us to be good little wives and then they changed the rules. And they never offered us any type of re-training program. That's not right.

I suppose the men are as confused as we are. They changed the rules on them, too. They pretty much just sat back and watched while the women changed all of the rules. But...not all of the women changed the rules so the men have to play a guessing game. I feel for them, I really do.

Ooh, it's almost 9, gotta run!

See ya,

Meg

This weekend I have GOT to find a new cook top...

...so that I can have more than one burner to cook on. I've learned to manage since the burners went out so slowly that I just slowly adjusted. If all 3 of them had gone out at the same time, I wouldn't be so adept at cooking with one burner. But, I am. That's why it's easy for me to procrastinate about purchasing one of them. I have no excuse...the landlord said that he would pay for it...I just have to send him the receipt plus the remainder of the rent.

It doesn't help that there's no one else who eats here except, on occasion, my son. He could be here or he could be not here...I never ask any questions. At his age, there isn't a thing that I can do about what he does so I just don't even want to know. That's sort of like the way Rick acts around me.

We don't speak that often, maybe 3 or 4 times a month. And the conversation is pleasant but very superficial. He still maintains that all he does is take care of everyone in his family. According to Rick, he might as well be a monk. I don't even know why he calls unless he's worried that I'll call him. I can write whatever I want on this blog and I'll never hear about it...unless I cross the line which I haven't done since the time he began his latest pattern of behavior.

Writing this down has just made his behavior make sense...isn't that something? Just by writing down what he was doing, I figured out why he's acting the way he is. If someone is sort of confusing you, I would highly recommend writing it down.

All of this crap started when that chick named Tish returned a call that I had left on Rick's answering machine. I rarely call him at all, only if I have a question about the furnace or some stupid house related problem. So, he never knows when that might happen. I did call once just to say hello when he gave me his new number, but other than that, I don't ever have to call him. I always know that he'll call me sooner or later.

Damn, he's been doing this for months and I just figured it out...he's calling me so that I don't call him. What a prince.

Although he rarely reads this thing since the blowjob incident, he does occasionally pop in. There are only 4 people living in the state of Montana and he's the only one in his town and the neighboring town. So, I do see him occasionally. I guess he has to keep abreast of the blog occasionally, just to see if I've figured out some truth that he's been hiding from me. Obviously, that is still one of his biggest fears.

Rick would tell me that I had caught him in every single lie he ever told...and damn, he just couldn't figure out how I was so good at that.

I told him that a liar gets away with at least ten lies for every one in which they get caught. Otherwise, they wouldn't do it. They lie because it works for them, that's what they do. I don't know why Rick lied the way he did. He lied about the stupidest things in the world.

When he got caught, he would always say that he was afraid that I would get mad at him. Well, maybe I would have. But, that's my prerogative. Maybe I had a right to be mad. And, maybe I wouldn't have been angry at all. He'll never know because he never gave me the respect of attempting to tell me the truth if he thought "I might get mad".

Oh well. Go figure. I'll just keep being pleasant when he calls...after all, he's close to being current on his alimony and he has kept the medical insurance up. I have to give him credit for that. I don't know what I'd do if I suddenly found myself uncovered.

OK then, I cooked a bit yesterday afternoon and I still feel like cooking. It isn't easy without the proper cook-top so I'm going to go out and find myself one. If I don't, I'll just order the damned thing from Lowe's. They had the best price. Then, I get to start looking for an oven. I've been glancing at those prices as I've shopped for a cook-top. They don't look too cheap either. But, one thing at a time. All I need is a ride. I think I'll call Chemistry dude. He offered to take me shopping...let's see if he meant it.

Ciao,

Meg

P.S. IMMEDIATELY after I posted this, my son brought the mail in. There was a large envelope from Rick with the alimony and some insurance information. So, now he is totally caught up on the alimony...I think. I'm pretty sure that he is.

Oh, I think that I'm going to offer Chemistry dude a blowjob for a ride. Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do.

By the way, I also suck dick for plastic surgery ;)

P.P.S. The blowjob idea worked! Not that I really thought it wouldn't...but it's now official. I have to do some of my special excersizes...see ya!

Marietta's famous Big Chicken. Once, I drove past this monstrosity and noticed that one of it's eyes had stopped spinning. I didn't think much of it until I watched the news that night...the spinning eyes made the evening news.

Posted by Picasa

Hi there.

I'm home from a date and you'll never, ever...in a million years guess where he took me so I'll just tell you. He took me to play Bingo.

The really sad part of the situation is that I enjoyed it...just a bit.

Oh well, at least I didn't date one of the old farts that run the VFW hall where we played. Those guys are really, really old. They're like crooked old...they're almost all bent over.

It occurred to me that I have dated men twenty years younger than myself and if an old fart did that, he could end up with me and it wouldn't be as unreasonable as I think it should be. Yikes. I have to face it, the days when old men are a serious option are quickly approaching.

Now I know how Ethel Mertz felt. That lady was annoyed that she could be believed to be married to an old fart like Fred. The lady who played Ethel was in her mid 30's when she played that role so I am actually much older than Ethel and that's just old. Older then Ethel...damn, that's a bitch.

And they don't tell you all about the old stuff, do they? They take you to a special class to tell you about puberty and when you have kids, they tell you what to expect but no one, ever...tells you what happens to you as you get older. So, I thought that I would enlighten you a bit.

Did you know that SHIT GROWS OFF OF YOU?! Yes, shit starts just sprouting off of your body as though new buds were forming. I'll never know what they eventually become, I have them removed. But, new crap just keeps growing back. I don't know what they are and maybe one day I'll let one grow out of curiosity, but for now I just have the doc hack 'em off.

Then, for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you get big brown spots all over. They're sort of like freckles only slightly raised. Just enough to make you think you can scratch them off but you can't, not without bleeding a lot anyway.

Once you start to get used to the spots, hair will grow where there once was none. I have hair on my big toe and I never did before. Like the rest of my body hair, it's light enough so that nobody can see it. But whilst doing a recent body inspection, I found the offending hairs myself.

Oh, this is an odd one...you can have the same blackhead for twenty years. Hell, for all I know, we die with the same ones that we first met in nigh school.

You know what makes you truly feel old? Being the right age for anything that Ed McMahon sells. The funeral home industry is marketing to my age group and that just FREAKS ME OUT!

Here in Marietta, they have this thing they call The Big Chicken. It's a two story chicken on top of a one story chicken restaurant. It's a great big tacky chicken that KFC inherited and when they tried to tear it down, they met great resistance from the community who couldn't give directions to each other without the reference, "You know where the Big Chicken is?...".

So, instead they just started selling t-shirts and post cards. I'll find a picture of that stupid thing and post it if I can.

Anyway, my point (and I do have one), is that as I was stopped at the intersection with my date on the way to Bingo, I looked up at that ridiculous bird with it's eyes spinning and it's beak opening and closing and thought that it was Rick laughing at me.

I left Chicago for that cretin and went to Virginia. That was one thing, I had family in Virginia. But then I ended up here, he's back where he started and I'm stuck here with this big, dumb chicken.

And, on top of all that, I didn't even come close to winning.

See ya,

Meg

For most problems...

...there is a solution. I can't boil my soft/medium boiled eggs perfectly more than 3 times out of every 10 attempts so I just decided to have my eggs hard boiled. Not a bad idea, 'ey? You can't screw that up. Well, I suppose you could, but you'd have to be pretty darned culinarily challenged...and I'm not. Of course, you could just be high...that would cause you to screw up the recipe for a hard boiled egg.

I once watched Rick, as he was as high as a kite, try to make his own soft boiled egg. He got the saucepan and filled it with water. Then, he turned the burner on and waited for the water to boil. Then, after exactly 4 minutes, he went to drain the water out of the pan. It would have been perfect if he hadn't forgotten to add the main ingredient...the eggs. So, I made the stupid eggs. Even when I did smoke marijuana, I never smoked it the first thing in the morning.

I knew that I wouldn't accomplish one damned thing after I smoked weed so I would wait until I had finished everything that I wanted to do that day. That was usually right before I went to bed, I rarely finished my day before lunchtime. Rick, on the other hand, would accomplish one thing before lunch and that was breakfast. Once he started smoking, I didn't have to worry about the couch levitating out the door. Rick would eat, smoke pot and hold the couch down for entire weekends. It was incredible.

I'm not blaming the pot, it could have been beer or vodka. Rick just chose pot. There's nothing wrong with that and I'm not saying that to get him in trouble because I haven't seen him in over 2 years (except for our mediation) so I can't speak to anything he's doing now, this was a very long time ago. Hell, I smoked it myself years ago. I never denied that. But, I did try to limit my use to evenings and vacations. And besides that, I don't think people should get in trouble for smoking pot.

Recently, I spoke to a guy who lives in the San Francisco area. He told me that he has a friend who is a doctor. And, the doctor believes in medicinal marijuana...a lot.

I'll call this person "Wayne". Wayne has a "party" every other month or so. He hosts what they call a marijuana party. It sounds very similar to a Tupperware party only they have samples of pot and pot products. Wayne charges $225 a head to come to the party. The physician's fee is $175 and he comes to evaluate the guests and give them their marijuana store ticket. The extra $50 is used to purchase all of the samples, Wayne doesn't do this for profit. It's more of a favor to the doctor.

Is it insane that people who live in California can get away with that? I'm glad that I can take my Marinol but I thinks it's ridiculous that I should have spent any time in jail for trying to get an appetite when I weighed less than 95 pounds. Especially when people in California can get a prescription so easily. Hell, if they wanted to, they could even carry illegal weed and suffer nothing but a ticket along the lines of a traffic violation.

What an odd country we live in.

I'm not at all trying to dis California, nor the system that it has produced. I have no problem with what California does and I don't mind what the doctor has done. He just did what the state had done...manipulated the system to allow what should be allowed in the first place...marijuana.

California has every right in the world to make marijuana legal but the federal government tries to flex it's economic muscle and withhold the money that the tax-payers sent to the government. If California, or any other state, doesn't do what the feds want them to do, they lose certain funding. So, since it's our money and our legislators, the feds are basically punishing US by not marching to their drummers. Sure, we have the right to do certain things...but if we do them, they won't give us our money back.

You don't have the right to drive without a seat belt or a helmet because of all the money that the insurance companies have to pay as a result of the medical care. We should be a little wary of that precedent. What if they decided that AIDS costs too much next? Will they try to police our bedrooms? Will they criminalize certain types of sex like they insist that we wear seat belts...using the same logic?

We have to keep an eye on those boogers.

I'd like to know something...how the heck did they get enough of our own money that they could dangle it in front of us like a carrot in front of a horse?

The idea of an income tax was considered unconstitutional in the first place. The government snuck it in on us by saying that it would only apply to the mega-rich. Then, they slowly lowered the standards until we all pay them now. Then, they give us certain rights but tell us that if we exercise them, we'll forfeit a bunch of our own cash. Slick little game they've got going.

Oh well. There isn't much I can do about that today. I have to do the dishes and laundry. That won't leave much time for changing the Constitution so I won't even bother penciling it in.

See ya,

Meg

If you turn on the news...

...and see an insane woman running down the street, chasing two dogs and two cats with a broom and a squirt gun...don't worry, it's just me.

I got a couple of those baby gates that keep kids in or out of certain rooms so that I could divide the house into Dogland and Catland. Last night, one of the dogs (I guess it was one of them, for all I know they both could have conspired together) broke a gate down and decided that I was sleeping too much. I woke up to find over 200 pounds of dog on my bed, each curled up on one side of me, looking quite comfortable. I looked up at my clock and noticed a cat on top of the TV who was, as I glanced at her, smacking a glass of iced tea down onto my clean carpet. So, I immediately threw a towel on the mess and tried to soak it up.

Then, when I took the glass to the kitchen sink, I found that a cat (or two cats, I haven't finished my forensic investigation yet) played "Knock Everything Off Of The Counter" and the sugar and creamer was all over the kitchen floor along with the half eaten bowl of Fruity Pebbles that I ate at 3 AM. So, I cleaned that mess up. Then, I made myself a cup of coffee and took it into the living room.

I don't know why I was surprised by what I found in the living room, but I was. The dogs found my basket of hair bows, pony tail holders and hair clips and ate them all up. Actually, they didn't eat them, they just chewed them all up and spit them all out. That mess couldn't be cleaned with a broom or vacuum cleaner...oh no. I had to crawl around the floor on my hands and knees, picking the tiny pieces up. While I was doing that, I heard the unmistakable sound of a dog drinking out of the toilet coming from the hall bathroom. I went to put the lid down and when I did, I saw that they dogs had stopped in there on their way to bed and ripped up an economy size package of toilet paper and somehow, confined that entire mess to the bathroom.

So, I've been up for close to an hour and all I've been doing since is cleaning the messes that those freaks made while I was sleeping. Now, I am finally getting to my first cup of coffee and I realized that I forgot AGAIN to call my friend with the crazed lady attorney. Damn...Girl...could you just call me? My brain stops functioning around dinnertime and I can't seem to think to call you after 5 PM.

I put the gates back up and stuck the dogs out back. One of them is barking like a maniac. That stupid dog is NOT coming back into this house until I am no longer homicidal.

I haven't woken up to a mess like that one since 1980. My ex husband woke up ay 3 AM to work on his catering truck and my son would wake up with him. But, the kid would wait for Daddy to leave so that he didn't get put back to bed. Usually, he would just call someone on the phone. I had taught him how to use speed dialing to call his grandmother and he would do that...at 3:30 AM. My mom would tell him to "Go get your mommy!" and he would refuse.

One morning, I woke up and went straight to the bathroom only to find orange toilet water. He had dumped an entire jar of Tang in the loo, for what, I don't know. Then, I went to check on the baby and found that her older brother had given her a half gallon of neapolitan ice cream and a spoon. So, there she was in her crib, feeding herself ice cream. I guess he wanted to keep her quiet so that he could continue on his destructive mission.

I went to the kitchen and found that he had dumped all four of my canisters into a pile on the floor. There was flour, sugar, coffee and pennies in those cannisters and after he dumped them all out, he peed on the pile so that by the time that I woke up, the pennies were glued to the floor by a glutonous mixture of flour, sugar and pee. The final insult was when I opened a cabinet and was attacked by a 2 pound box of spaghetti that came at me like Niagra Falls. I couldn't get the pasta to stop before it all just came out. I had to just sit and laugh, otherwise I would have cried for sure.

I don't have that same sense of humor that I had in my youth. And, I'm not as fond of the animals as I was of my children. This is isn't as funny as it could be. Maybe in another 20 years, I'll laugh. But right now, I just want to tape that dogs mouth shut and snicker.

Now, I have to feed all of the animals who trashed my house. That just doesn't seem right, does it?

OK, I guess I've calmed down enough to let them back in. But, if you DO see me on the news...that'll probably mean that I've gotten busted for something stupid so call the Marietta Police Department and see if they've given me bail.

I just decided that I get to eat first. OK then, I'm going to get some more Fruity Pebbles and eat them. Then, I'll feed the maniacs who trashed my house. Then, God willing, I'll be back.

See ya!

Meg

The fricking NERVE of some men...

...up until today, I've sort of been seeing a guy every so often. He isn't Chemistry-dude...he's another guy.

Before we ever dated, we knew each other as friends. Even before we ever went out, we spoke on the phone often, e-mailed each other...we availed ourselves of many forms of communication. I found him to be totally charming, witty and wickedly clever. Just like I like them.

Our conversations were refreshingly challenging and I enjoyed the verbal sparring and the brilliant one-up-man-ship of our humorous quips. Ordinarily, when you find those traits in a man, you can assume a few things. I assumed that the brevity and confidence with which he spoke was a sign of a bright, level headed character. I was wrong.

The longer I know him, the more insecure and suffocating he becomes. As a result, I am dealing with all of the negative aspects of a relationship without enjoying any of the positive things that make the bad crap worth suffering. Ain't that a bitch?

I have never, ever lied to this man. Yet, he demands answers to questions that he has no right to ask and then he refuses to believe me when I answer the questions anyway...just to shut his ass up. So, I refuse to answer anymore questions...which of course is, in itself, an admission of guilt to a whack job.

I hate it when somebody that matters doesn't believe me. If I tell you something...it's the truth. I may refuse to answer a question for one reason or another, but if I do answer it, you're going to get the God's honest truth. If you choose not to believe me, you can just sit and spin. But, don't ask me anymore questions.

I think what bothers me the most is the fact that if this guy thinks I'm capable of the subterfuge that he's accusing me of, then he doesn't know me at all. He's the only guy that I'm seeing who knows about the blog so I certainly can't say that he is missing much...hell, I tell you guys just about EVERYTHING!

So, just what WOULD I hide from this guy? DUH! Bupkus.

Now, if he had caught me in a few lies...that'd be different. So...Rick, I see that you've been back...don't sit and say, "See? It sucks to be accused of lying." I didn't lie...you, on the other hand, are a liar extrordinaire. And by the way, what's up with the alimony? It's getting a bit TOO late. I have to pay the rent with that so could you hurry up? Thanks. See ya.

OK...now I'm going to go take a Xanax. I've worked myself up into a frenzy.


See ya,

Meg

SO, YOU WANT TO BE ABUSED!

OR

(HOW TO LET ANOTHER PERSON DESTROY YOUR SELF ESTEEM)

So, you want to be abused? Here's how to do it in a few easy steps. First, you must go out with a male. He should be someone you don’t know very well. It helps if he is the kind of guy who “loves” you within a week of that first date. After he calls you every single day or stays at your house after the date, you must ignore that HUGE red flag. (I call that the date that never ends.)

Next, you must perceive his jealousy as a sign that he truly cares for you. When he gets mad at you for going out with your friends, you must STOP doing that. Cut every single REAL friend you have out of your life so that he is happy and there is no one left to point out the fact that this guy is an imbecile.

Now, he who looks behind doors has stood behind many so you must learn to accept his covetous behavior and ignore the fact that he is actually the one who is cheating. When he denies it, you must be dumb enough to believe that he is NOT cheating and feel extremely guilty for accusing him in the first place. Then, you must start doing things to make him happy so that he stays with you.

When none of your efforts pay off, feel even worse and try even harder. After a while, your self esteem will be gone and then you will be ripe for abuse! When he punches holes in the wall, cover them up before anyone sees them. (Be sure to keep all of this a secret or your family may start trying to bring you to your senses!)

Sooner or later you will be hit and then you will know that you are truly on your way to a life of hell!

Now, should you get into an argument, don’t have a cell phone. The land phones must be yanked out of the wall before you can call the police. And should the police come, be sure to tell them that you DO NOT want to press charges. If they see the bruises and arrest him anyway, be sure to visit him in jail so he knows you are still volunteering for the role of punching bag. You may have to PAY his bail so keep some cash on hand for just that purpose.

Now, when you ponder the abuse, it is very important to have the following attitude:

“He must really love me or else he wouldn’t get so upset!”

If anyone sees the bruises, tell them that you walked into a wall or some such crap. Defend your abuser to the max, otherwise, you will be in no position to be smacked again.

The real point of being abused is to exterminate any shred of self esteem you have. So, you must forget the fact that you accomplished more being single than you ever did while you were being abused. Also, you must believe him when he says, “Who else would want a fat bitch like you?” If you ever feel as though you should find another guy, you must not allow yourself to believe you are good enough to do so.

Some other helpful tips, pay for his recreational activities (whatever they are), let him live with you rent free, give him your ATM card AND the PIN. Buy him clothes so he can go out on the town looking good while you stay at home waiting for him until all hours of the night. Be sure to let him have his way with you at his command.

Now, this can take some time so don’t be in a hurry. But...if you follow these tried and true steps, you are sure to be an abused woman!

As most of you know, I usually qualify these types of posts by mentioning the fact that men can be abused as well as any woman can. They can't defend themselves for fear of being arrested and can't report it for fear of being laughed at. Also, the gay community has a problem in this area as well. Some cops can be soooo macho that they laugh at the entire situation and some abused gay people are still "in the closet" and may fear "outing" should they report the abuse. I should have added this paragraph before I posted it and I apologize to anyone who felt offended.

Dear Meg,

Remember, I prayed for widowhood for the last three years of my marriage, though I never had the nerve to commit it myself. I am old-fashioned enough to have gone into my marriage without ever considering the possibility that it might end in divorce (talk about naive!), and to me, widowhood seemed like an "honorable discharge", so to speak, whereas divorce seemed like a "dishonorable discharge".

LOLOLOL....Anne, you crack me up. I, too, never had the nerve to commit widowhood to myself either.

I wish I had said the thing you said about the discharges...perfect way to express my thoughts.
During my first marriage, when I was about 19 years old and the victim of an abusive husband, I would hope that the coastal hills of Sonoma County would wind and twist enough on his way home from work that his fire engine red station wagon would drive off a cliff.

When I was with my second hubby who liked to screw every teenager in town, I would hope for his demise as well. Then, one day he had what we later learned was a panic attack. He collapsed in a heap complaining about chest pains. I called an ambulance, thinking that he had a heart attack. I followed the ambulance to the hospital praying, "Oh God, I was only kidding! I didn't mean it! Let him live! Let him live!"

We all pray for things and then sooner or later, we hear that saying from someone, "Be careful what you wish for...you just might get it."

I got what I wished for when I wished for Rick. Damn, WHO gave me that and refuses to give me the winning lottery numbers? Oh well. Cest le vie.

OK, I have a few errands to run so I have to go now. I'll be back later. Hope your day is going along swimmingly!

Meg

Damn...

...I fell alseep again. I'm totally screwing up every normal sleep habit that I ever had. If I ever meet a man that wants to get married, I'll have to sleep in a bed at night instead of wherever I feel like lying down whenever I get tired. Even if I start out in my own bed at a normal time, before the sun rises I will have been in a couple of different beds.

Man, I'd have to cook 3 meals a day at normal times, too. Ooh, I hadn't thought about a bunch of those things. Although it would be nice to have a man in the bed, how would I get one that would follow me around the house? I'd probably have to sleep in one place all night if I wanted to have a man there.

They are nice to have around but I've gotten used to a few things since Rick left. There's not much farting going on in the house and that would change if I got a new man. There's also not much filth accumulating around the toilet. There haven't been any socks and underpants around the bed either. Not having a man around has had a few benefits that I hadn't thought about. I should appreciate that stuff while I can. Before you know it, there'll be a man in my life and I'll have to endure a few things that the testosterone induced seem to bring with them.

I guess I should stop and smell the roses while I can. I keep thinking about Rick and my grandfather and that combination sort of makes me afraid of having another man. I suppose I could limit myself to really really clean men...but you don't see too many of them. No matter how clean they think they are, they're never clean enough, are they?

Also, I like being able to come and go as I please. Not that I do go to that many places, but whenever I want to, I can. And, if I wanted to, I could set a goal like having 7 different men come over every night for a week and screw every one of them. I probably won't, but I could if I wanted to.

Like right now, if I wanted to, I could call Mr. Chemistry dude over here and nail him again. All it would take would be a phone call. OK then, I think I'll call him and break out the hummis. Alrighty then...

...see ya!

Meg

PS I wrote this a while back and then couldn't get the puter to post it. So, now I'm sticking it up here with a bit of an update...the hummis worked.:):):)

I thought you would like this.

Posted by Picasa

The widowed or dumped question...

...had me thinking. That's pretty much why I wanted to hear from Betty Broderick. I just have to know from someone who made the decision to assassinate her husband and ended up in prison if, knowing what she knows now, would she have done anything differently?

Don't you sort of wonder? Most of us have some odd things pop up in our minds now and then but we just sort of learn to live with reality. Most people don't cave in to their darkest fantasies. If they did, there would be a lot more dead cheaters lying around. But the fact that so many of them survive the Jerry Springer Show alone amazes me.

I've heard about a few people who killed the cheating bastards who have trashed their lives and some have gotten away with it and some haven't. I did learn something from watching the prosecutions of those who take the ultimate revenge against the person who cheats on them...if you're going to do something, you need to do it soon. I lost my chance at off-ing Rick. If I was going to do it, I would have had to have done it back when the cancer was bad and I first found out about Gail Glenn.

It's too late now. I couldn't get around premeditation. I let him leave the state so now I would have to travel to him and that alone would prove premeditation. I blew my shot. Oh well.

The fact that more people don't kill each other speaks pretty well of most of us, doesn't it? It's still big news when someone does commit a crime of passion so I guess most of us are suppressing evil intentions.

A bunch of people who do get away with it seem to do so because they did it early enough to be able to use some sort of emotional trauma as an excuse. Lorena Bobbitt was an exception, how she got away with de-pricking a sleeping man, I'll never know. The bad thing is that when people get away with something, it's easier for them to do it again. That's how a bunch of people get caught, actually. They get rid of a wife or girlfriend and then 20 years later they lose another one the exact same way. They get greedy, lazy and stupid.

There's a woman here who poisoned her husband and got away with it. She was so successful the first time that she did it again, and the cops don't seem to buy coincidences like that. Two healthy men don't just drop dead in front of the same woman. I don't think those guys were even cheating, she did it for the insurance. One of those men was a cop and the other was a fireman so she was going after the same insurance if I remember correctly. I guess that one was just cold blooded murder, which I will never understand.

But I have to be honest with you, I understand why Betty Broderick did what she did. I'm not saying that what she did was right, of course it wasn't. But, I do understand. She should be getting my letter by the end of this week or the beginning of next week. I hope she's bored enough to call me!

Anyway, if she does, I'll let you know. Oh! I ended up making fajitas with that skirt steak. They were very good. I still had some of the pico de gallo that I made last week so that made it even better.

Well, my mind is a blank so I'm going to go see if I can refuel it a bit.

Have a good one!

See ya,

Meg

I have 2 pounds of skirt steak...

...and a bag of carrots. So, now all I have to do is come up with some new and creative way to cook it. I haven't had a chance to find a new "cook-top" (that's what they call the counter-top stoves like the one that the landlord told me that I could replace with rent money) and when I found the right size, they required a 3 week advance order. If I order one and then find one that I could take home, I will have to pay some fine for canceling my order. But, if I never order one, I'll never get one. So, since I keep procrastinating, that stupid skirt steak is getting cooked on one burner, as are the carrots.

I guess I'll cut them up and make some sort of steak sandwich with them. But, I'll cook it in such a way that I'll still have options...at the last minute I could change my mind and make beef stew out of the steak instead of the sandwiches. So, I still have time to think.

I hate cooking for nobody but if I don't cook something, I won't ever have anything to eat other than Fruity Pebble's and Hot Pockets.

OK, if this is not a new idea, then it doesn't count, but if it IS a new idea, I get credit for it:

It's my new invention. It lets you can small amounts of leftovers so that you don't have to make a lot of stuff in order to can things and you won't waste as much food. It also lets you keep small meals as TV dinners so that you don't have to buy as many Hot Pockets.

I love to cook. If I had the money I would start a business where I would cook meals for working mothers to pick up and take home to their families. I wonder if I could do it out of my house? Ya think?

I have a friend who started baking cakes in her house for her friends and she turned that into a really, really good bakery. She did it after her husband died and she was left with small girls.

I had a lady ask me if I would have rather been widowed than dumped. Without hesitation I said, "Oh, absolutely."

I can understand widowed. That's what's supposed to happen. I don't mean to offend widows or take any of anyone's "victimization" away from them, but I could have handled being widowed much more easily. The insurance alone would have made life so much easier.

So, what do you guys think? Widowed or dumped? Which would you prefer?

Meg

OMG!!!

What in the heck is going on with the space shuttle? I just heard that they saw more pieces of something floating around space with them. That's not good at all. I think they should just go straight to the space station, don't you?

Meg

My father is somewhere in England...

...helping his ex wife spend her daughter's inheritance. My step-mother has one kid and the kid isn't terribly bright. She is one of those kids who actually had a father who poisoned her mind against her mother. My step-mother left 60% of her estate to her daughter and yet the brat has nothing to do with her.

The woman has Alzheimer's and a host of other medical problems and when she goes, this brat will never have a chance to get this time back. Her father, like my granddaughter's mother, has more hatred for the other parent than love for the children. She wasn't the best mother in the world, like all of us, she made mistakes. But, unlike all of us, they have someone in their life who is seeking to cease on those mistakes and make them issues for as long as life goes on.

When children with normal parents have issues, the parents try to help them deal with the issues and get on with a happy life. My ex-step-sister (who I have never met) is about 30 and now she is responsible for her own actions...you can't blame it on the father forever. At some point the brat should seek to resolve the issue herself. You would think that someone in their life would encourage them to develop healthy relationships rather than poisoning the most important relationships in the lives of the people that they care about. There won't be any healthy relationships in these lives...if I wan't to have a relationship with someone, I would want them to know how to have one. Oh well.

Anyway, step-mommy finally saw the situation for what it was and she decided to spend the money as quickly as she can and that's why they're in Europe. I'm glad that they went because neither of them have ever been and that's ridiculous. We kids have traveled all over the globe and these two parents have never left the teeming shores of this country. My father will finally get to visit Normandy and she will see Paris.

She was mentioning that she wanted to go shopping at Harrod's and I had seen the clothes that she brought. My dad and I went to Target and bought her a bunch of coordinated outfits because she didn't bring anything at all that was appropriate. But, we didn't get anything nice enough for her to walk into Harrod's in. They'll have to shop for something nicer than that because they have some sort of dress code there and I doubt that Target clothes would get past the dress code police.

Well, I woke up early this morning because last night I fell asleep watching the evening news and then I never woke up again. Dinnertime is a dangerous time to fall asleep. Usually I will wake up again before 9 but other times I wake up at 3 AM and don't know where the night went and I did that again. That means that I will be speaking to my friend tonight instead and then I'll have something on that wopig attorney who has some issues of her own. How can ANYONE be smart enough to get through law school but so stupid that they would believe a lying husband?

How often do we women get it wrong? We know what men act like when they love us and we know when they're lying. They might not believe it, we might not even totally believe it ourselves. But we're generally right when we suspect infidelity. Rick is one good fricking liar...I gotta give him that. In order to lie so well, he makes everybody think he is too stupid to lie so well. It's amazing how the lies have taken his spirit over. He will hold true to the stupidest lies for the longest time. He lies about things he doesn't even have to lie about. If he thinks it might be a confrontation, he will avoid it entirely and that means denying that it ever happened unless you have him on tape.

So, I know that the men can be good, but shouldn't an attorney know that as well? You could buy my services but you couldn't buy my brains. There isn't a fee in the world high enough to make me suddenly stupid.

Hey, did it ever occur to you that you were really, really a good person and that you could accomplish whatever you wanted to if you put your mind to it?

I'll be back soon,

Meg

Hello there!

My date went so well that I just got home.:):):)

It was a date that Rick most certainly wouldn't want to know about. I didn't even have to worry about my messy house...I just went home with my date.:)

I had quite a bit of fun...quite a bit. For a while there I was silently slapping myself on the back, taking all the credit for the great time that was being had and then it occurred to me that the guy was doing a pretty damned good job as well. To tell you the truth, I was rather impressed and I'm not easily impressible.

I have to say, it caught me off guard. Don't you love it when that happens? I know I do. I always have a good time when I go out with a guy because that's just what I do. But, at the risk of sounding dreadfully cliche...we had chemistry.

You know those times when you both want the same thing and you both know it but it hasn't really been a respectable period of time between, "Hi! What should we do tonight?" and the first appearance of a pillow. So, you just have to find some way to keep your hands off of each other until someone gets up the courage to start the ball rolling. In situations like that situation...I think it's up to the woman to say, "Let the games begin!" So I did.

Obviously I can't give you too many details but I could safely tell you this...I enjoyed his ears. I spent enough time on that man's right ear alone to warrant applause. I purposely inhaled at just the right time and just the right spot on his ear to make him shiver. And he did.

Oh, he was a smiler. I like that. I'm a smiler too and I like to see another smiler out there every so often. He smiled so much that at one point I started looking for the camera. I'm pretty sure there wasn't one but I didn't do anything to be ashamed of so I won't worry about that the least little bit.

You know, as much fun as I had with that guy, he is divorced so someone is probably writing a blog about him somewhere but I enjoyed his ass immensely. But, he is just a man so I wonder what his particular faults are. They all have their own stupid habits that annoy the hell out of women and they know enough not to do whatever it is before they get you in bed so why can't they just stay that way?

I don't like to generalize and lump all men into one category but there is one thing that can be said for every single one of them...there's not a man on earth who wouldn't stop in the middle of an argument, no matter how heated, and take a blow job from the woman that he's arguing with. On the other hand, women don't do that. There's no way in hell that I would spread my legs for the man who was currently making me angry. He'd have to get down on his knees and beg after apologizing profusely. I guess that's just the difference between the sexes in a nutshell.

Oh well. I did have a lot of fun and I want to do it at least a few more times before I see this guy's dark side. Let's see if he can do it.

OK, I'm tired. I'll be back later.

Meg