Hi. I'm trying to think of another description to put here. Any ideas? I'll try again at 420.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
...and it may be considered rather low brow humor. But, fart humor is very popular. I've given fart humor a lot of thought as to why it isn't really practiced as much as it could be after the age of 15. When I first began discussing farts, I was quite surprised at how much people liked my fart stuff. I always liked it myself, but who knew they would be so widely accepted? And the more I dive into farts, the more people seem to like it. I asked myself, "Why?".
Why is it OK to laugh at fart jokes when I say them? Well, the best I can figure is it's because I write them down. People read this one at a time. I'm not standing in a room full of co-workers opening with the story about when I was 8 years old and farted at the dinner table. But, I can do that here. I don't really understand that, but that's the way it is.
I remembered that fart from 1966 because it was the first time that I learned that farts could be controlled. I knew you could try to hold on to them, and Lord knows, I tried to hold on to that dinner table fart. But I was only 8. A baby. What could a little ass like me do? Even though eating stimulates peristalsis and you eat at the dinner table, you can't fart at one. I knew then that I should probably keep that little gem to myself. There was just one problem...if I moved in any way shape or form, that fart was coming out. So, there I was, laid down on my chair and the empty chair next to mine in a contorted position, doing everything in my power to keep that stupid fart in.
Well, I must have twisted too hard or something because all of a sudden, in front of my family (who was already staring at me as I writhed and twisted like Linda Blair), not a sound could be heard...and all of a sudden....poof! Only they never really "poof", do they? I just can't even begin to spell a fart sound. You know what they sound like, especially when you're trying so hard to hold it in...it's like when you pull the ends of the balloon and deflate it to make that high pitched sound. You just get a really high pitched sounding fart. And, if memory serves, it lasted for a while. Of course, all of our traumatic childhood memories happen in slow motion so who knows. I don't know what I got for Christmas in '66, but I know that I farted at the dinner table on a Sunday afternoon. And I can tell you exactly what happened next.
Brothers did the "EEEEWWWWWWWWE....YOU CUT THE CHEESE!!!!!!!" and sisters gave a quick and terse "TSK!, you are so gross." My mother ignored it totally, she farted all the time. But, my father, whom, I might add, I have never heard fart, said to me, "There are ways to do that so it doesn't make any noise." Then he picked up his fork and ate a bite of pot roast.
I doubt that he would remember this story, he's 74 and doesn't remember breakfast. But I do. That's because I was rather intrigued by the notion that a fart sound could be controlled.
That was the day that I, a little 8 year old girl from the Chicago suburbs, began a lifelong quest....to never be heard farting again!!!!! The Dinner Table Experience was seared into my psyche. It cut me to the quick. I would never again lay on 2 chairs, twisting and squeezing together muscles that don't want to stay squeezed together.
Oh, it took practice. It took years and years of arduous practice. And sometimes, even today I can fail at my quest. Oddly enough, the only time I fart out loud is in front of my father. But it's not as though I WANT to. I just do. I wonder if my subconscious wants to fart at him? I don't know why else it would happen so often in front of one person. I can imagine what he must think of me...I wouldn't blame him if he thought that I walked around farting all the time. (I just cracked me up.)
But, I have to say, I am pretty good at releasing silent gas. I don't have to do as many special exercises as I once did, but as I've gotten older, it's occurred to me that I might want to start working out again because old people do seem to fart a lot. And they always act like nothing happened. Little old ladies might say, "Oh my, excuse me!" but then they just do it again. So, I should probably strengthen my fart muscles.
Of course, there is one time when I don't want to silence my farts. My favorite fart is one that happens quite rarely. And then, even if it does happen, you have to be alone or in front of the person you're sleeping with...or with my brother Wayne. My favorite fart is one that we all enjoy and I wouldn't believe anyone who wasn't impressed with the "Walking fart".
You know, that fart that comes out every time you take a step? I love to see how far I can fart walk. I rarely make it past 5 steps but every so often, I hit 8. My goal is to control one fart well enough to fart walk for 10 steps. After that, I'll set my goal higher and before you know it, I'll be fart walking down an entire aisle of the grocery store!
And, by the time I get THAT good at fart walking, I'll be so old that no one would say a word.
Monday, September 29, 2008
You're a racist! No, you are!
Blah, blah blah.
Let's settle this damn racism question once and for all. Racism is, like it or not, in the eye of the beholder. What's racist to me may not be racist to you. And, what's racist to you, may very well not be the least bit racist to me. It just depends on your own perception of what the word means.
We all think that racists are pretty cut and dry. They wear white hoods and burn crosses at night in clearings out in the country. They eat grits and kick shit. Of course they carry guns and vote for Republicans. They all flat foot and play banjo's. They're evil little suckers and if you meet one on the street, alone, at night, you are soooo screwed.
And naturally, the people who choose not to vote for Obama are ALL racists. It doesn't matter what their reason is, if a white person refuses to vote for Obama, he is a racist. So tell me, what does that make black people who don't vote for McCain...Mormon? And, what does it say about the 18 million democrats who voted for Hillary in the primary? Certainly they didn't vote for Obama and since those who don't vote for Obama are racist, the democrats should really work on the 18 million racists in their own party before they bother with people who use freedom of thought to think differently than do the self appointed racism police.
I know that racism exists in America...I see it all the time. But we are now in a time when racism is not practiced by whites alone. Racists come in all colors. There's nothing in any definition of racism that says it can only be committed by people in the majority. Perhaps oppression would take a majority rule, but simple racism exists in the smallest of groups.
So, what if we really COULD tell by looking at someone that they were racist? What would we do? If racism gave people hideous rashes on their faces, would be lock up every red faced person we saw?
No. And that's because it isn't illegal to be a racist. It isn't even against all religions. Racists have always been around and they always will be around. Racism may be ignorant, immoral and short-sighted, but it isn't illegal. In our country, every single one of us has the right to be a racist. We even have the right to our own definition of racism.
So, how do we stay free of being accused of racism? It's impossible. We can't do it because with SO many people judging others based on their own definition of racism, we surely would fit SOMEBODIES idea of a racist. Maybe according to the yahoo who wrote that comment, I AM a racist.
But I'm using my own definition and I say that this fool definititely fits MY definition of a racist. He IS "judging others based on they're own beliefs or cultural heritage". That's a racist to me.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I guess most of you have heard about the major gas shortage down here. If you can find a station that has gas, there's a crazy line that goes down the street. I don't remember it being this bad in the late 70's. People are running out of gas while they're in the line and enough fights have broken out that a lot of the stations have cops directing traffic so that no one cuts in line and begins some sort of middle-class soccer dad rumble. The only thing worse than a 30 something guy with a spare tire, baggy shorts and socks on under his sandals is an angry 30 something guy with a spare tire, baggy shorts and socks on under his sandals.
Apparently the shortage began with a hurricane that happened weeks ago. The actual shortage was last week and now the only problem is that the humans are all in hoard mode and everyone is afraid to let their gas tank get too far from the 'F' so they gas up because they can instead of doing it because they need gas. It would seem as though there aren't many people at all who are doing what I've decided to do...stay at home. There's gas in my car because I haven't gone anywhere.
I like to live life on the edge with a devil may care attitude. When the weatherman mentions a .08% chance of show flurries, I never buy any extra milk or bread. Somehow, I've been lucky enough never to have an emergency need for bread in the worst of the Chicago storms I've weathered, I know I can survive an Atlanta storm without hoarding a months worth of food for snow that may or may not come. Even if the snow DID come here, it would melt as soon as the sun came out. So, a month's worth of bread for a "storm" that happens and goes away before I wake up in the morning seems a bit like overkill.
I've was snowed in for a while during the 79 blizzard in Chi-town. No one even drank any milk. They all drank beer and played poker for 3 days. It was actually like a party that you couldn't leave. And to my memory, no one starved to death in Illinois during that storm.
So, I'm not going to run around looking for more gas right now like the homeless look for spare change. I'll just sit here and bitch about the people who do.
I do have one thing that I hoard...sources of light like large flashlights, candles and cans of Sterno. If the power goes out for ANY reason, you'll be able to see my house from space because it will be totally illuminated. I sat in the dark for one evening and that was all it took. And as God is my witness, I will never sit in the dark again. Oh, I could even have a candlelight buffet with my Sterno. Cool. I probably wouldn't serve bread, but I could whip something up.
So, while most of the men in this country will be watching football games today, many men around here will be sitting in long lines trying to fill up their gas tanks before the work week starts. What a bunch of putzes.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
...with a new magazine to write a series of articles for them and I think it's pretty neat! I have to write 7 articles, all about Bob Barr, the Libertarian candidate for president. I worked on his congressional campaign years ago so I sort of know him. I'm hoping that he remembers me because I need to start trying to call him today to interview him for the series.
Friday, September 26, 2008
...with the government bailout of numerous large corporations but it looks like it's going to happen no matter what we think. You may remember that I am running for President, I just don't get any press coverage because I make too much sense. No one wants to see a populace the size of America galvanized by outrage over the massive media manipulation that seems to be working so well. Like Paul Revere, I try to sound the alarm that "The government is coming, the government is coming!"
This time the government is coming and they're going to give up to ONE TRILLION dollars to a bunch of huge corporations. You can't even get an argument out of the 2 major presidential candidates...everyone seems to be in on this swindle of monstrous proportions.
The solution doesn't even make sense. The government says that the economy is so bad that people are unable to pay their bills and therefore, OUR money needs to go to the huge corporations who are taking homes away from financially strapped families. First of all, the fact that the government even has ONE TRILLION dollars to give away is proof positive that we have been WAY overtaxed. Perhaps if we had been able to keep the money, we could have paid the bills in the first place. And secondly, if WE are the ones who can't afford to pay the bills, why not give us our money back and then WE'LL give it to the banks? That way, we can keep our houses and live a little bit more securely.
It's a little plan I call "Trickle Up" economics. It has never been tried before in the history of mankind because like royalty cling to their crowns, governments cling to our money.
When our government gives that money to the corporations, capitalism will cease to exist in this country and corporatism will begin. The politicians will try to make this sound morally right when they say inane things like, "We won't make tax payers pay for the gas in the CEO's helicoptors!" as though that makes it a less bitter pill to swallow.
When the government gives money away, they impose their own rules and conditions. Then the entity that received the money is at the mercy of the government to some extent.
If this had happened in Russia, we would all see it for what it is.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Violence against police officers is running rampant in this country and in the state of West Virginia, things are going from bad to worse. Jose Cruz (pictured) is leading the charge of many beer drinkers who are sick of being pulled over for DUI's and refuse to take it sitting down on both cheeks. The DUI got him pulled over but that was only the beginning of his crime spree. He actually continued his madcap escapades into the police station.
While sitting in the Finger Print room, it seems as though Mr. Cruz...let me see, I want to get this right...Mr. Cruz "farted on" one Officer Parsons. According to the criminal complaint, Cruz not only farted at the officer, he also waved his hand in attempt to push the foul smelling cloud of his own emission closer to Officer Parson's nose.
Although no video tape has been released to the public of the attack on Officer Parsons, apparently the beating went down like this:
Officer Parsons was preparing to fingerprint Defendant Cruz. He walked a full 4 feet away from Cruz as he began the fingerprinting process. At one point, Cruz aggressively and in a menacing manner, scooted the 4 feet down the bench, positioning himself into a more strategic location from which to launch his attack. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Cruz lifted his leg (the reports do not make clear which leg was used) and released what could only be described as extremely foul, pungent and repugnant gaseous discharge from his asshole.
Officer Parson's could not be reached for comment but Deputy C. Bumpkin was all too eager to support his colleague and granted this reporter a brief interview:
Q. "Deputy Bumpkin, what do you think of the rancid assault against Officer Parson's?
A. "Well, you have to remember that this was a beer fart. And, from what I've heard, the defendant stopped at Taco Bell after he left the bar. A case could be made that this attack was premeditated. I think the practice of farting at police officers is simply evil and must be severely punished."
Q. "Have you ever arrested anyone for breaking wind at you?"
A. "No. This is why it's so important that this case is won. It's already one great big fart-a-rama when you pick up a bunch of drunks on the weekend. If word gets out that it's open asshole season on police officers, you'll have people ordering pickled eggs and Poppers with their alcohol, just in case they should run into an innocent police officer. These people will arm themselves with some of the most hideous, malodorous and vile foods that they can. I wouldn't be surprised if the black market became flooded with a pill to ensure that the wind the offender breaks is anything but fresh."
Q. "What sort of defense do you think the defendant might launch?"
A. "There IS no defense! Did you hear that the man smiled as he assaulted a fellow officer?! Do you REALLY want such a cold-blooded farter walking the streets?"
Q. "I heard that there was another officer in the room. Do we know what HE had for dinner?"
A. "Are you saying that Officer Cook would have committed such a brutal attack on another police officer?!"
Q. "Well, it could amount to reasonable doubt in the minds of a jury, don't you think?"
A. "THIS INTERVIEW IS OVER!"
Obviously tensions are running high in the law enforcement community, but what do the people on the street have to say about this senseless crime? Here are a few comments from people passing the station earlier this morning after they were informed of the fart that was launched at Officer Parsons:
"I'd like to thank Mr. Cruz, what he did took a lot of inner strength. I tried to fart at a cop once and all that I got was Hershey Squirts." (Jack E. Daniels)
"Well, I for one think it's great that the officer arrested the farter dude! Now, my husband will think twice before he tells me to pull his finger. I'll make a citizen's arrest right there on the spot!" (Mrs. Billy O'Smelly)
"I think the cops should just give all DUI suspects a Bean-O tablet as soon as they blow above he legal limit. It should be mandatory, swallow the Bean-O or give up your license for one year!" (Connie Servative)
"A more important question would be, "How are these beer farts affecting the ozone layer? Maybe a huge tax on beer will teach those drunken farters a lesson!" (Libby Eral)
"I think they should give out special permits, like Handicap Stickers for parking spaces, to people like me. I have diverticulitis." (Wendy Whiner)
Well, it looks like this is a case for the courts to decide. Mr. Cruz has threatened to have all of his drinking buddies show up in court in case the verdict should stink of unconstitutionality. Mr. Cruz's attorney tried to give us a comment, but he was laughing so hard that his milk shake came out of his nose.
Read the entire criminal complaint here:http://media.graytvinc.com/documents/Cruz+Criminal+Complaint0002.pdf
Can't we all just get along?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
...I can mow it. When the evil honeysuckle begins to travel along my fence to get at my roses, I can kill that. I can pick up the pine cones and use the blower on the driveways and sidewalks. But there's not a damn thing that I can do to make the phone books stop popping up at the end of my driveways.
I have two driveways because I live on a corner and for some reason, someone put in an extra driveway. At least once a week for the past month, I've been finding phone books at the end of BOTH driveways. And they never come alone, they come in neon yellow bags with 3 or 4 books in each one.
What the heck to you do with those stupid things and how do you make them stop? I can't seem to do find a solution to that problem yet.
How the hell many phone books does one person need? I can look up every McDonald's within a 50 mile radius and I could probably even find a blacksmith if I wanted to. But I can't find Stupid Men With Excess Cash so they do me no good.
I have a stack of phone books in a cabinet that I have to bend over to access and at my age, it's easier to sit at my desk and look up numbers on the computer. Hell, from what I understand, computers even have Stupid Men With Excess Cash. I haven't found one, but I AM looking.
Yesterday when I was mowing the grass, I pushed the mower under a bush without looking too hard to see what I was mowing and I chopped the hell out of half of a phone book. A trillion little pieces of paper were everywhere. To whom does one complain about THAT? I sat there picking up pieces of paper for close to a half an hour, cursing the phantom phone book person who left that thing under my bush. I was so irritated that I finally had to take a pill.
I just let my dog out and when I did, I saw another fricking phone book at the end of my front driveway. If this doesn't stop soon, I'm going to start calling numbers in the books and telling people that some company is spreading a list of numbers to prank call and their number is on it. Then I'll give them the phone number of the phone book company. It probably won't stop the onslaught but it should make me giggle a bit.
Fun with Super Glue
You know, if a woman were to get creative, she could come up with all sorts of ways to get back at a philandering husband!
...I believe that I promised you guys a story about a cheating asshole with ZERO respect for women. Well, here it is.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine posted an ad on Craigslist. She has an office cleaning business and she wanted to pick up some residential accounts. She asked me if I would handle the emails and set up the appointments for her because she was just too busy to do that. I didn't mind a bit.
One guy in particular seemed interested and I was "cultivating" his business. He said that he needed help because:
"...my wife is 7 months pregnant and works full time. I am a firefighter and am gone every third day. I need several things done around the house. Please get back with me if you can with your cleaning rates, services, available times, etc... Thanks, Rob..."
To give him rates, I had to know exactly what he wanted so I asked him specifically what he needed. I listed some of the things that were on the list my friend gave me. The list is extensive but it does not include stupid things like sex. My friend is not a madam. But here was the request:
"...So you'll come clean, do laundry and cook for me while you're naked?..."
I was properly offended and I let him know that. He apologized profusely and asked if we would still consider working with him, the wife needs the help you see. He finally said that what he really needed was a cook. So, he asked:
"...I'd like to sample your food before I hire you. Where can I come get some?..."
I ignored that email and then I got this one:
"...Well I'm free tomorrow. Wanna make me lunch?..."
I asked my friend if she would be interested in working with this guy and she said, "Just get a price and we'll see." I should have sent her the emails. His suggestive and horny emails kept coming.
I ignored him some more and he still sent a tacky email:
"lol, so you dont like for a guy to use his tounge on you?..."
I guess that was supposed to be an offer I couldn't refuse.
Then he went back to business and I answered his question. He again stated that he wanted to "sample" her services before he decided whether or not he would "use" her.
He wanted to know if anyone was free to cook this afternoon. I had to mention the payment:
"We're never free, but someone should be available." (For the right price, I thought to myself. If he offered to pay her anything over $100, she would do it...cook the meal, that is.)
His response to that was the last straw for me, I didn't care how much money he offered to pay her or ME for that matter, I wasn't going to deal with his ass anymore. He wrote back:
"...I understand, but I have to come sample some of your food before I hire you!!..."
If he would have left it at that, I would have too. But, he couldn't do that. He went on to offer his amazing manhood and when I still didn't respond he said:
"...You mean you don't want to handle me going down on you and a good hard fucking?..."
It appears to me that he is getting his ya-ya's simply with the stupid emails. Not that he wouldn't come to a stranger's house and "sample" some of the "services". And just in case there is any woman out there who hasn't figured out what he was up to, I'll explain it.
He started out by telling us that he wanted to pay MORE than the $11 hourly rate. That was when he seemed like a nice guy getting help for his wife. But when questioned directly, he did let me know what he wanted...sex. And, he wanted it for free. He wanted to see if we would let him come over to "sample" the services. He wanted to do that for free and THEN make the decision whether or not he wanted to pay for further services. He dangled a lucrative account in the air as bait to get a woman to "work" for him. He had no intention of ever paying anyone anything.
When he kept emailing me, I finally responded to him when he asked why I wouldn't write to him anymore:
"I don't have time to play games. I guess I can't blame you for trying but you aren't dealing with stupid women. As a matter of fact, you have no clue who you ARE dealing with."
He thought that was funny. By this time he has shown blatant disrespect, acted extremely offensively, and attempted to "extort" services for free. Then, to top it all off, he laughed at ME when I told him that he had no clue who I was.
Well, that's when I decided to send him one more email that I knew would put a stop to this bullshit:
You should Google my name to see who you're trying to screw over.
What is it they say about "he who laughs last"?
It appears as though I was right, I haven't heard from him since. Now mind you, this nimrod gave me a LOT of personal information. I know where he works and I know that he's married. And, I have a picture of the fool. I absolutely COULD get this to his wife if I so desired.
But, I'm going to leave it up to you guys. I'll run this poll for a while and then I'll do whatever you guys say.
I doubt men who offer landscaping services have to deal with this crap.
OK, I've decided to go ahead and post his picture and some info about him. Enough to get it back to his wife. I remembered what it was like being pregnant and married to a cheater...it was a bitch whether I knew who it was or not. Remember, the person who is cheating is at home treating the other person like dirt as they justify their cheating. This wouldn't be anymore stressful than living with the asshole. As a matter of fact, the NOT KNOWING was and always has been the worst and most stressful thing that anyone could go through.
I will do that soon. Right now I'm in a hurry but that is my decision.
Monday, September 22, 2008
...trying to cheat on his pregnant wife...with me! Tune in tomorrow morning for the expose.
...blog buddies made my blog a "favorite" of hers. I have never seen that on the blog before and I don't know what to do to add the "widget" that lets me post the people who have listed this blog as a favorite. I think I may have one of the old time blogs that won't work with the new templates.
Last night I bumped into 2 brothers of my youngest son's old girlfriend. She was the nicest girl that boy ever dated and when I see the nit wit he's with now, it makes me sick. Oh well. Anyway, I told the brothers to say hello to their mom for me and they told me that she died a year ago. It was such a shock because she wasn't much older than I. She was 54 when an aneurysm in her heart ruptured and killed her almost immediately. She felt weak for a minute, put her head down and was dead, just like that.
I guess it's as good of a way to go as any but I just hate to hear about people so young dying. When I was in my 20's and working in Oncology, I became lose to a patient of mine. We became good friends but eventually, the cancer killed her. I remember soothing my own pain by telling myself, "Oh, she was 44, she lived a nice long life." Can you believe that? I thought that 44 was old!
I think old is about 20 years older than you are...or I am. And my son's friend's mom wasn't old by any standards, except maybe a 10 year old mind.
OK, I just finished mowing the back yard and ever since the chigger incident, I've been freaking out over possible chigger bites every time I go out there and work in the yard. I had long flannel pants and a long sleeve sweatshirt on. The sun was hot and I was sweating like a horse in my attempt to protect myself. But the memory of the last attack of the chiggers makes me feel all creepy and crawly all over.
I guess my break is over, I think I'll go mow the front yard.
It's already another week, this year is going by so quickly. Time seems to go by quicker and quicker as the years go by. And once you have kids, the years REALLY zoom by!
Yesterday morning I took some money out of my drawer and in my rush, I stuck the rest of it in one of my wonderful hiding places. That means that I've hidden it from myself so I have a nickle, a dime and 4 pennies. When I was a kid that would have bought me a bottle of pop, a candy bar and 4 pieces of penny candy. Today it'll buy...NOTHING! I can't think of anything that costs 19 cents. Maybe one screw at Home Depot. Unfortunately, I don't need a screw.
Ooh! I just found another penny sitting on my desk! Mo' money, mo' money!
I'm so broke right now that I wouldn't even start my car, the gasoline is the most expensive thing I have. I wish I had better luck than I do, I'd consider robbing a bank. But, I just am not the type to get away with something like that. Besides, all I know about robbery is what Brad Pitt taught Thelma in the movie Thelma and Louise.
A lot of banks seem to be getting robbed around here, I guess it's the economy. One guy here in Cobb County didn't even have a gun, he just handed the teller a note. Apparently, that worked. I haven't heard anything about him getting caught yet.
Let's see, what else is there? Blackmail. I wouldn't know who to blackmail. I don't really know too many people worth blackmailing. And I'm not really sure what the blackmail rules are. Besides, so many people have given blackmail a bad name by going back and demanding more money later...and that's just wrong.
Prostitution? First of all, I don't think there's a huge call for 50 year old hookers and secondly, I wouldn't know where to find a "john". If I were to be a hooker, I wouldn't be a street walker hooker, I'd just entertain privately in my own home. And that would mean that I would have to clean the living room and do the dishes. I'm just not that into it. Besides, my flannel jammies would probably lower my price.
I could be a cat burglar...but I would probably get chased away by a dog. As I said, I just don't have the kind of luck that lets me get away with crime. Damn it.
Oh! I could do a smash and grab! I just don't know what to grab. I guess a purse...but I need a lot of cash, not someone else's credit cards. And what the heck do you use to smash the window? I don't have a big rock on me. I could spend half a day just looking for the right sized rock and once again, I'm just not that into it.
I could be a hired killer chick! I understand they make a lot of money. But, for some reason, most hired killers seem to do business with cops and then they end up on American Justice or something like that. If I'm going to be a crook, I'm going to do it right.
I'd really like to be an Ocean's Eleven type of crook, that seems like a lot of fun. If anybody out there is planning a huge caper like that, could you email me? I'd like to help. I fit really well into small places so if you need a contortionist, let me know!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The type of woman who gives us all a bad name
WINNIPEG, Canada — A Winnipeg man awaiting trial for rape has had all charges dropped after the alleged victim admitted she sent the accused cards and explicit love letters behind bars.
Crown prosecutor Wendy Friesen initially told court earlier this month that the woman adamantly denied sending the letters and that they must have been forgeries.
But after a brief recess, Friesen said the woman changed her story and admitted she had written them.
The woman claimed in the letters that she missed the accused and was pregnant with his child.
The woman had originally claimed the accused broke into her home in October 2007, choked her, forced her to drink alcohol and snort cocaine, and then took advantage of her after she passed out.
Defense lawyer Sheldon Pinx said the woman should be charged with mischief, obstruction of justice or even perjury.
This type of women does more to harm other women than most men can do. A man will offend one woman at a time, another woman offends us all. And it is just frightening that a person could even SIT in jail based on the word of some crazy female.
...and I hate disrespecting my father. The shoot that I'm supposed to go on today starts at 5 AM and I was going to try to make it with no tail lights. That was stupid. Every other car I passed was a cop. I guess they're still looking for Saturday night drunks.
It was so nerve wracking, every time I saw a cop I turned quickly off the road I was on and pulled into the first parking space and turned off the lights. After I did that 3 times, I started thinking about how stupid it was to do that and how I promised my father that I wouldn't drive the car illegally. So, I just crossed me fingers, put the hazard lights on and took the car home.
I called the casting dude and told him, he said just to get here "as soon as you can". So, the day isn't a total waste.
You know that sick feeling in your stomach that you get when you're a teenager and get pulled over? That feeling pretty much goes away as you get older because you've had a few tickets and survived so you know what to expect. This morning I had that sick feeling the entire time I was playing hide and go seek with the cops. I think it was more about my father than anything else. If they stopped me, they could have impounded the car, I don't know what they would have done with it.
One thing I know for sure, I don't want to call my father and say, "Dad, you know that car you're letting me use? Well, I drove it illegally and now I need a couple hundred bucks to get it out of impound." He's not a "Oh well, these things happen." sort of guy. Even at my age, I still don't want to get in trouble with my father. I guess that's the years of fear and intimidation that my father reigned over during my formative years.
Even my mother was a bit intimidated, she didn't say, "Wait until your father gets home!"...she said, "Shit, your father will be home soon, clean the house and shut up about everything bad that happened today! HURRY!"
I certainly have my moments when I know that I'm right or at least I know that I have the right to my own opinion. During those times I'll stand up for myself or let the old man think whatever he wants to think. But there's no excuse for showing disrespect to someone who is doing you a favor. If you do that, you won't get too many favors in the future. So, the car is out in the driveway, safe and sound and I am going to be a good girl and leave it there.
That guy who I mentioned in the post about men wanting sex told me that he would "take a look at it". But he's said that about 3 times and nothing has happened yet. You know, he has a lot of nerve trying to get in my pants without so much as a peek under my hood. The more I think about it, the more irritated I become.
Some men (not ALL of them of course) are about at selfish as they can be. As I've said before, they ALL have a distorted view of their love-making abilities and they think that you will enjoy sex as much as they will. Well, chances are less than 14% that a woman will enjoy first time sex with any given guy. Hell, I dated Rick for 4 years before he saw to it that I enjoyed it too.
So, since I KNOW that I most likely wouldn't "enjoy" the sex as much as the guy would, tell me something...what's in it for me? And...if a guy doesn't see to it that a woman enjoys sex, what does that make the woman? A really warm jerk off with boobs and an ass? Yeah right. Not this bitch.
I've also mentioned before that I would NEVER let a guy get 2 orgasms up on me. It just won't happen. If he gets a nut and then even THINKS about getting another one without considering reciprocation...I will pull down the shades and declare, "NO SEX FOR YOU!" just like the Soup Nazi did in Seinfeld...only he said it about soup, not sex.
Have you ever slept with a Middle-Eastern guy? OMG! Don't bother. 25 years ago it wasn't any good, I can't imagine that sex for Middle-Eastern women has gotten any better since the Taliban took over. These guys treat their women like the ultimate sperm dumpster. Their baseball field has no bases, just home plate and they knock over the catcher when they "score".
Once again, I have digressed. But, that's how my mind works.
That nit wit dude has one week, that's all I'm giving him. He has a daughter, so does my father. I should set his daughter up with my father. That'll teach him. Anyway, in that one week, two things better happen. First, my car needs attention. Secondly, I'm done playing defense with a guy who asked me "Why?" when I said that I wasn't comfortable enough to have sex. What a stupid question. If he couldn't kiss me into it, he certainly wasn't going to talk me into it.
What possible argument could he use? See, it's just such a bonehead question because there's nothing that a guy can say to any answer I give him. But...some of them do try to talk you into it as though you'll say, "Well, now that you explain it like that, I'm much more ready to spread my legs for you. How silly of me to have considered MY feelings?"
Asking a woman why she won't give it up is one of the top 5 dumbest questions of all time. It's even above that dumb ass question that cops ask after a pursuit, "Why did you run from us?"
DUH! They're the cops. They're supposed to catch crooks. The crooks are supposed to run away. That's just the way it works. And, women are supposed to put the breaks on sexually until it's the right time for her. That could be on a first date, a third or even a 30th. There's no reason in the world to screw EVERY SINGLE GUY who tries...you'd never have time to shower.
More women need to learn how to say "No!" to men. At least until it's what they want as well. I know that some people have sex because they can, no other reason. And it's easier to just do it than it is to argue with a guy.
EPIPHANY!!! You know, I just changed my mind...I'm not going to see Why dude anymore at all. I don't need a guy to tell me what this guy is thinking. I can figure him out by myself...for some reason, he thinks that I am an easy lay. Aha! I sure don't know what made him think that but that's the only explanation for a guy to ask such a stupid question before he's so much as complimented a lady, much less professed some sort of feelings for her.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
...in the morning and if anyone here in the Atlanta area would like to get paid for hanging out with a production crew, actors and ME...email me at email@example.com. This is what the director is looking for:
"...men and women from their mid 40's through 70's that are available to work as paid extras for a major TV network production shooting this Sunday September 21, 2008..."
Apparently, we'll be playing angels in one scene and then diners in the LA area later in the shoot.
I'll try to remember to bring a camera but when I'm working a shoot early in the morning, I'm usually running quite late so I pretty much forget everything except my glasses. Maybe if any of you guys come with me, someone will have a camera with them!
C'mon, it'll be fun, I promise!
...and I had a very nice time. The guy I went out with is a bit older than I. I'm not sure how much older because apparently, HE lied about his age.
I've know him for years, since I was still married to Rick. A couple of years after Rick made his escape, this guy started paying some attention to me. I never paid too much attention back because I'm not in the market for a guy. But, after a guy asks you out over and over again, sooner or later he'll catch you on a good day. A couple of weeks ago, this guy caught me on a good day so I said that I would go out with him. He is a nice guy after all and I just figured "What the heck?"
We've been out a few times and I've had him over to dinner a time or two. During one of our first dates, I asked him how old he was. He told me that he was 57. I believed him, I had no reason not to. It just never occurred to me that he would lie about that. It didn't matter to me how old he was, he's just plain old. After some point in time, all of us are just plain "old". It doesn't matter if we're 57, 67 or 77, old is old.
Last night he introduced me to his daughter who is almost 40. I asked about his other kids and he said that one of them was 42. I quickly did the math and asked, "You started procreating at 15?" He just said "No, not that young." and then he brushed the question off. I didn't push it at all.
Our date progressed nicely and eventually he brought me home. When we got here, he came in and sat on my couch so I just did what I would have done anyway, I watched the episodes of Family Guy that I had recorded while we were out.
Of course, he started to make out and that was fine, I can deal with that. But then suddenly his hands went all Daniel Boone on me and they started wandering all over my body. This is where I became annoyed. I wasn't annoyed that he tried it, I was annoyed that when I moved his hand away he asked me why I was doing that. That's a pretty stupid question if you ask me. DUH! I'm doing it because I'm not comfortable with that stuff right now.
I've mentioned before how I hate to find myself in a position where I have to explain myself and that's exactly where he put me last night. What the heck is up with men? Why can't they date a woman for a while before they try to get their clothes off? Is it me? Am I a prude?
Last January I decided that I wasn't sleeping with anymore guys unless it was turning into a serious relationship. Of course, I have my fuck buddy so I have that covered. I've had this one for close to 4 years and I adore him. He knows his job and he does it well. So, except for him, I haven't slept with a guy since last holiday season.
I had a few beers last night so maybe he thought that I would be "loose" enough to sleep with him. But what he doesn't know is that, when I'm on a date, as soon as I have the first sip of alcohol, the chances for having sex are nil. I don't make those types of decisions when I'm drinking. So, if he was trying to get me to loosen up, he was doing it in the worst possible way.
I just don't get it. Why is it that men think we will jump into bed with them as soon as they go for it? If that's what people are doing nowadays, I'll just buck the trend and carry on with my plan, no meaningless sex...period. But I can't imagine that a lot of women are hopping from bed to bed...there has to be more chicks like me who save the goods for the right person and time.
Ladies, are you out there? And men, what are your views on this subject? I'd love to know what's going through the guy's mind and I find that if you want to know what a man is thinking, you just ask another man. So...what the heck is up with sex in the new millennium?
Friday, September 19, 2008
...dating old men is that they LOOK like old men. Other than that, they're not so bad at all!
...toss trash out of a car window. I have more respect for my town, my country and my planet. If I were to litter, I could get a ticket and pay a fine for dropping a gum wrapper where I shouldn't have. But mad scientists who don't know when to quit have been playing some mighty scary games lately.
I looked the other way when they cloned Dolly the sheep. I shook my head when they started impregnating women with litters of babies. I hear that they're working on INVISIBILITY...seriously...by bending the light that allows us to see. I was going to let that go although I have to tell you, I feel around for invisible spies whenever I shower.
But now those suckers have gone too far. They have developed a "Big Bang Machine". Really:
"...The Large Hadron Collider is ready to start smashing its first particles together early next week after glitches with the $7.2 billion "big bang machine" were fixed by engineers..."
Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but didn't I hear about some Big Bang that started the entire universe? Apparently a universe is pretty damn big. I don't think there's much room outside of one of them. But the scientists are going to play with universal creation and they're doing it with a machine that has suffered "glitches".
I don't know what they're up to with that machine but wouldn't it be a bitch if they accidentally created another universe? Unless we find some room for that thing, we pretty much have to collapse into a black hole or something like that and I'm not sure that we'll be able to bring our stuff with us.
And even a group of us made it through the black hole and then found each other on some nice planet, we'd have to start all over again. We'd need metal and the chances of one of the survivors knowing anything about smelting would be pretty thin. We'd all probably be pretty thin as well. I don't like eating food that comes from the ocean, I know damn well that another universe wouldn't offer much in the way of fine cuisine. Before it's over, we'd probably have a Donner Party. Ick.
I'm pretty sure I would be one of the first people eaten. If you think about it, I'm not as strong as a man, unless he's a cripple. My childbearing days are probably over so I wouldn't serve much of a purpose. Of course, I would be the one who knows how to get by using my wits and all of the years I spent using phones that were attached to the wall. So, maybe my resourcefulness would save me. But...I still would be at the top of the menu, after the crippled dude and Angelina Jolie.
We couldn't even imagine some of the creatures that might be in another universe or deep inside the Black Hole. Heck, look at the creatures on THIS planet, rattlesnakes, flying cockroaches and Michael Jackson, to name a few. We wouldn't know whether to bring a machine gun or a fly swatter.
If you ask these yahoos why they're doing all of this, they always give the same lame answer..."To learn how we got here." That's supposed to be a really, really good reason to spend billions of dollars on machines that could destroy us all. Seriously, what the heck difference does it make? We're here, deal with it. How it happened really doesn't matter. I sure don't care.
I'd rather see the billions spent on lunar vacations...THAT, I would think would be worth the money, especially if they allowed gambling.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Am I Depressed?
Depression is much easier to cure than it is to live with. The problem is that most people don't recognize it for what it is. Even if someone admits to being depressed, they can always find a "good reason" for it. Most of us could easily blame our spouse and no one would question that. The problem is that even if you are in the midst of a situational depression, you ARE at risk of acquiring a dreadful case of clinical depression that absolutely won't go away by itself.
At times during our lives, situational depression will pop up when we least expect it. Deaths, divorces and major changes in our lives can make the strongest of us a bit depressed. Many times we get over those events with little but a sad memory. But all too often, the situation passes yet the depression lingers on.
A temporary sadness can easily develop into a clinical depression that will demand a lot of your attention. Depression doesn't necessarily ask you to do things, it just asks you not to do anything productive or fun. Even your favorite activities seem like a drag when depression tells you not to bother. Why should you do something when there's a perfectly good bed to lie on? The depression is happiest when it's just the two of you, alone under the blankets.
Once depression has seduced you with the comfort of crawling into a cozy bed, it won't let you sleep because that's the perfect time for depression's sister, anxiety, to speak to you. Anxiety will remind you of all the things that need to be done and then depression comes in to let you know how futile it is for you to bother fixing those things. After all, you just spent an entire day in bed, it's easy for anxiety to convince you that you are incapable of fixing those things. Between depression and anxiety, life becomes a daunting task.
After a very short period of situational depression, chemical changes take place in the synapses of your neurons. There's no special diet for that, it needs to be treated medically just like epilepsy. If left to progress unabated, depression, like a cancer, will literally suck the life right out of you.
Along with a lot of help from anxiety, depression can leave a person in such an emotional hole that eventually seems far too deep to climb out of without help. The depressed mind knows that there isn't any way that it can accomplish anything productive. Anxiety helps keep the mind isolated by telling it that the only safe place is the familiar surroundings of your home. Trips out of the house...even on the most beautiful of all days...seem somehow doomed to fail. The fear that anxiety brings with it is a paralytic fear that is difficult to understand but paralyzing just the same.
Eventually, it barely seems worth getting dressed in the morning. You walk around in the same clothes for days and feed yourself only when it occurs to you. It may occur to you once a week or 10 times a day. One way or another, there's nothing at all healthy about the diet your eating. Sooner or later none of your clothes really fit anyway, so there's another reason not to get dressed.
Slowly but surely, all hope for a better life slips away. You continue to live only for your loved ones until you feel as though you're a burden on them. That's when depression stabs you with the blade of worthlessness. It occurs to you that perhaps your family would be better off if you weren't around at all.
If depression is allowed to exist in any one person long enough, other people begin to walk away. Depression is quite jealous, it will find a way to push people out of your life. The final goal of depression is to stay with you until it has demolished every part of the person that you were and if you don't stop and pay attention, all that is you will be gone.
Well meaning friends and family members will say stupid things like, "Why don't you just do it?" They look at you as though you're too stupid to have thought of that. The idea of a paralyzing fear is lost on those who have never experienced it. They assume that you're lazy or that you enjoy what has happened to your life as though it were a conscious decision. Now they've heaped guilt upon the depression, anxiety and feelings of hopelessness. Just when you think that things couldn't be any worse, someone or something will pop up to show you how wrong you are. The pit of despair seems bottomless when you get deep enough into it.
Although little productive effort is put into the depressed person's life, every single day is a struggle. And that's why it's easier to fix the depression than it is to live with it. Since depression leaves no rash, no obvious deformity nor any other real outward symptoms, the depressed person needs to confide in someone. The best person to mention it to would be a doctor.
Good doctors know that the illness is as real as is diabetes. They don't sit in judgement and they are there simply to help you live your life to the highest standards possible. They want to see you be the best you can be. There's no overnight treatment available for depression. Most plans of care require weeks, at least, before improvement is noticed.
Those are weeks that could be spent deep in the throws of sadness and the time is going to pass anyway. Why not let it pass with treatment for the depression? If you can't think of a good enough reason to seek help, just grab onto a glimmer of hope. You may find that hope in your children, your parents or your spouse. Look anywhere for that hope, no matter how small it may seem, and cling to it until you begin to have something that you haven't had in months, even years...hope for your self.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
...a very boring year indeed. If you leave out the gaffe's made by each of the candidate's, you really have nothing note-worthy going on. Obama isn't too bright and he's as slick as was BJ Billy. If he were to be president, we would have another Teflon leader because he doesn't seem like a "buck stops here" kinda guy.
McCain isn't any brighter and he's missing a neck. I don't know what happened to it, but it's not where you'd expect it to be. I'm sure that there's a good reason for some of this stuff and I'm sure that this is politically incorrect, but what the heck is going on with his arms? He moves like my first Ken doll if Ken was a short-gray haired old man.
And as far as issues go, all I know is that Obama says, "I won't use force!" and McCain says, "I'll kill the SOB'S!!!" It's a contest to see who can be nicer or meaner...depending on the respective parties.
I don't like Obama and it has nothing to do with racism, I just don't like people who dance around the truth and refuse to answer questions with a straight answer. Of course, the no-neck dude is just as bad.
I had NO idea who to vote for. It was bad enough just watching the candidates but then their wives came out. One of them has a big mouth and the other just sits there with a stupid look on her face. Neither of those attributes are attractive if you ask me.
So, I looked to the vice presidential candidates. I don't remember anything from Joe Biden since the impeachment which was 10 years ago. What the heck has he been doing since then?
Sarah Palin came on the scene at about the time I went back in time by switching to a satellite TV server. I haven't heard all the nasty things that people have been saying about her so I don't know what not to like. But, I do still have my computer and I saw an interview with the "First Dude" of Alaska.
NOW I know who to vote for. McCain, of course. I want to see more of that fisherman dude who works on a manly sounding "North Slope". He's not only easy on the eyes, he seems honest. He's supportive of his wife, he's been with her since high school and unless someone pops out claiming an affair with Mrs. Palin's husband, I think he could keep my interest for a while.
So, after months of indecision, I am voting for the team that has the cute tall guy living a heartbeat from the White House...Todd Palin.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
...working with dying people because after they realize that they don't have much time, wisdom rains on them as though it were coming out with the force of a fireman's hose. Dying people, knownst or unbeknownst to their family, will talk to nurses about things they don't think their family can handle. So, I've gotten to know them well over decades of working with them.
A huge part of the wisdom that gives the dying so much comfort is the part where they realize how pathetically negative some behaviors are. They realize that their time could have been better spent on much more productive endeavors. If it's any consoloation, few of them continue the negativity after the diagnosis is made. They tend to live their last weeks or months as positively as possible.
But...if a person died unexpectedly and in the middle of an excercise in bitterness, they never get the opportunity to experience the ability to live a pleasant life surrounded by their loved ones. And all too often, their bitter behaviors are directed at their loved ones.
Consider this Brooklyn couple who wanted to be sure to leave a nasty will behind when they croaked:
A Brooklyn couple slain in their home last month spoke from the grave in drafted last wills, leaving a bizarre legacy for unloved ones they detested in life.
A few of their last wishes-
"To my brother who I know hopes to be in my will, well, here you are...the sum of zero ($0.00) Dollars....So, Robert, you have a choice, you can come to my grave site to say hello out of love or piss on me for not giving you money."
Schwartz's wife...took an apparent shot at her first husband, James, leaving him no cash but decreeing that a "gift" of $10,000 be made in his name to a battered-women's shelter.
"With regard to my estranged family who were never there for myself or my children, but always there for their distorted version of Catholicism, I give and bequeath the sum of $1 each to my" mother, father, two brothers and sister "and request that they donate same to their precious church to whom they had a greater allegiance, than to their first child and sister."
Schwartz also lays out $25,000 for each of two friends - Steven Rezac and Peter Klages - but cautions them not to tell their spouses. "This gift is conditioned upon each of them not telling their respective wives of said gift so they may not get their hands on same,"
And just in case they didn't offend everyone, they left a few parting jabs at some folks who weren't even on the list to receive a dollar:
"...I curse each one of them as follows," Schwartz wrote. "To Boom Boom, the electricity never be on when you need it; to TR, never will any of your radios work again" "To Bobby, never will your gun shoot when you need it."
That last one was pretty cold, if I needed my gun to shoot, it would be because someone else's gun was pointing at ME!
Anyway, that's how these people chose to be remembered. They weren't lucky enough to have any notice that they were about to die so they had no chance to rethink what they had done. They didn't even have a chance to grow old and develop wisdom the way some others do...through life's experiences.
I must say, I did appreciate the wife's idea of leaving the ex a gift in his name to the Women's Shelter. That is of course, if he really did smack her around. If he didn't, that was just mean. And it's not that I don't appreciate a little mean here and there, but I wouldn't want it to be my legacy.
I would consider the Women's Shelter thing, and I could do it honestly. But I think I'd rather leave it in the form of a scholarship for women whose husbands cheated on them and then left them with no way to handle the bills. There's already a lot of help for battered women, not so much for the hideously betrayed.
Anyway, I read that and thought that it would be interesting to discuss and now that I've done so, I think I'll be off to do something else...productive.
I finally got the pictures from the chick who remembered to bring a camera to the Drop Dead Diva shoot. (She must always carry a camera, check out the great pics on her blog! http://nancymccorkle.blogspot.com/)
When I first started doing movies, I was so excited about it that I always brought a camera. Then, I started working for Tyler Perry and he doesn't allow cameras on his shoots. So, between Tyler's rules and the fact that I'm getting pretty used to working on movie sets, I never think to bring a camera.
But, I can always count on SOMEONE to bring one and the Drop Dead Diva shoot wasn't any different. A very nice lady named Nancy had a camera and she took a bunch of pictures for some of us. Here are some pics of some of the fun people that I ended up hanging out with. There's a lot of sitting around time during a shoot so we usually make a friend or two during the long hours of sitting around waiting for the scenes to be shot.
A doctor, another nurse and a patient. This patient had his own walking stick so he stayed a patient all day.
And what day would be complete if I couldn't find some handsome young thing to cuddle up to! This is Brian, an aspiring actor who has so much going for him that I'm sure you'll see him someday!
Now I'm going to go make a fresh pot of coffee, see ya soon!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
...they have programs that automatically flag things on Craigslist without anyone ever having to read the post:
"...This is almost the same project as 294077. Should auto-flag or semi-auto flag CL posts. Should stop flagging as soon as ad is removed or have a way to check whether ad has been removed. Would be helpful though not mandatory that it count the number of successful flags required to remove an ad. I imagine it will use proxies but I don't care as long as it works..."
That explains a lot. AND...it shows a major weakness in Craigslists basic make up.
...isn't the part where you have to stay inside the cuticles, it isn't the part where you have to avoid the use of your fingers while the polish dries and it isn't even the first chip in the new polish. Those are certainly all annoying, to be sure. But they all pale in comparison to the actual removal of the enamel that seems to have taken on super strength, staying power and nail polish remover resistance.
The more coats you have applied, the worse it gets. It's as though each coat fights not only for itself, but for the coat beneath it as well. And of course, that last coat is the most impervious of them all, unless you count the part along the bottom cuticle which for some crazy reason doesn't want to let go.
The person who packaged nail polish remover like a stamp licker thing by putting a sponge in a jar full of nail polish remover helped things a great deal, we can now bathe our fingertips in acetone until we have burned the hideous layers of color off of our nail beds. It does take a while and after surprisingly few uses, your fingers all turn the color of the nail polish remover in the jar so the irritating polish really does find a way to win in the end.
It seems that for every different product that we use to accessorize our particular features, there's an annoying little removal chore waiting for us with it's own special removal oil, creme or scrub. Especially on the face. Heck, they even make products that are specifically created to rub off layers of your skin. Apparently skin looks bad on a face.
Without a bottle of eye make-up remover, you can't get mascara off without either burning your eyeballs with soap or looking like a raccoon. And, for some reason, one eye is always more resistant to the fluid than is the other eye so you still have to use soap to finish off the eye with the tough mascara. It's only one example of many potentially uncomfortable and assuredly time consuming little chores that many of us have to contend with before we leave our homes.
I would specify women but somehow, the males amongst us are quickly jumping on the "look pretty" bandwagon once only occupied only by females and transvestites. I don't know what to make of the newest riders of this particular bandwagon, but I'll tell you this...the first guy to sneak eye liner of out my Kaboodle gets a swift kick in the backside.
Anyway, I understand why the bra burning thing never caught on, we all need a bit of support, or at least most of us do. But why women never had a make-up bonfire, I'll never understand.
Of course, any woman has the right to refuse to wear make-up, but a woman who doesn't wear make-up suffers the same fate that used to afflict men who did. It is assumed that they are gay. To quote the great Seinfeld, "not that there's anything wrong with that."
In my entire half century of life on this planet, I have never been mistaken for gay...unless that is, I was with my best friend who never, under any circumstances, ever wears make-up. She refused to let me put so much as mascara on her mutant small eyes while I helped her get ready for her wedding...to a guy. Ever since we were teenagers and even so recently as this past summer, we have been mistaken as a very close lesbian couple.
Being the annoying little women that we can be and have been for 37 years, we didn't mind encouraging the curiosity of those already staring at us wondering...is she or is the other...or are they both...wearing comfortable shoes?
When the cosmetic industry is a huge part of the national gross product of a country and cosmetics play such an important part in our assessment of other people, perhaps it's time we tried to phase out the annoying, irritating and chemical filled products that we spend so much time, money and effort to obtain and utilize.
Even people who are all "natural" and "Green" and eat dried banana chips instead of potato chips and refuse to use toxic products to clean a filthy toilet will rub chemicals all over their faces, underarms, upper arms, legs, backs, chests...even their private areas...and this is all done at least twice a day with different groups of chemicals. Where's the consistency of logic in that scenario?
And, oddly enough, instead of going down at all, cosmetic use is about to double as the men start finding it more and more acceptable to apply a bit of eye liner, have a mani-pedi or cover up a bit of grey here and before you know it they'll all look like Bob Costas. Face it, if men are going to use cosmetics, some of them are going to go nuts like Costas and Phyllis Diller. YIKES! Those two alone are my argument against high-definition TV.
Anyway, I would take a picture of my self and post it with this but I can't, I don't have any make up on. But, give me a couple of hours to shower, apply make up and fix my hair, and I'll be back.
...Cold Case Files. If you’ve never seen that show, it’s all about telling the stories of cold case murders that have been solved. Then they had a show on about murders that have never been solved. Some of those files have spent decades on shelves without so much as a thought given to them. There may be an old cop or two who still remember “the one that got away” and some files are actually sticking out of hundreds or thousands of other cold case files. In that case, a few cops who work specifically on cold cases might take a stab at it.
Of course, every moment passed is another opportunity for more evidence to be destroyed, degraded or just plain wiped away. They say that the chances of catching the murderer drops dramatically after the first 48 hours. Can you imagine what the odds are of not only catching, but actually convicting the murderer after years have gone by? Such a daunting task, I, too, would dread taking on. But my father taught me young how to handle a daunting task. You simply start at the beginning and go one step at a time. Before you know it, that task is behind you.
I don’t think that there’s a specific time table upon which a cold case rests, I’m sure that each situation warrants it’s own consideration. But there has to come a time when the police begin to search out more current dangers to society. Years go by and slowly the police department itself changes so that little is left of the original group who investigated the case during that first 48 hours.
At some point, the only hope that most murder victims have is their family. And if the family doesn’t care, there’s pretty much no hope for the victim to have the very last piece of dignity available to them…the justice that even the least amongst us deserves.
Someone in my family disappeared a few years ago and she seems to have been relegated to the cold case files. If you were to try to get information on the investigation you would think it was in the “Don’t tell the family anything” file because there doesn’t seem to be much that I can do except let the police know that Mary Ann Mergel’s family is still out here, waiting for them to find her, bring her back to us and then lock up her killer and throw away the key.
If you were to close your eyes and think about what would happen if you were to disappear of the face of the Earth, never to be seen again. Millions and millions of us live with very little fanfare or pomp. The evening news might mention our disappearance for a few days or so, but soon another story will knock you off of the news and out of the minds of the people who might remember you, but only as “That woman from Chatsworth who they never did find.” Imagine being murdered while your killer goes on to live his or her life as though they had tossed a cigarette out the car window. It’s a sad thought indeed.
Would anyone look for you after the police give up? Would you search for the killer of a loved one? I think that most of us would.
My aunt has been missing for years and her son has always been the main “person of interest” in her disappearance. Today finds him a fugitive from justice and he is out there somewhere.
Mary Ann’s sister is the one in my family who taught me most what the word family means. It implies an obligation, family is the place to which, if you have to go, they have to take you. In a great big Irish family such as mine, there are far too many cousins for this case to go softly into some hideous night haunted by the silent cries of those who seek justice without a map to follow.
All it took was for one of us to start talking out loud about our thoughts on the topic of Aunt Mary Ann and then others followed suit and we’re developing a clearinghouse for information regarding my aunt, her son and anything else that might stir the police into a bit of action. We have finally begun to have hope and we’d like to pass that hope onto the Georgia Bureau of Investigations and the Barrow County Police Department.
We are a force and the more we spread the word to other friends and family members, the stronger we become. We hail from all walks of life, we’re housewifes, nurses and attorneys. We each bring our own experiences and suggestions to the table when we discuss our aunt. We WILL catch her killer or we will die trying.
We are the family of Mary Ann Mergel.
Friday, September 12, 2008
...and the rest of me has simply vanished. Luckily, it wasn't all in one area of my body...it disappeared relatively slowly and from all over. I don't know why but I've lost at least 10 pounds in the past two weeks.
I need to have that MRI taken care of soon. I don't know why I feel so badly. I haven't gone this long without posting ANYTHING in a very long time. I just felt so badly that I could barely get up off the couch. But, as you see, I'm up now! I feel a little bit better but no hungrier.
Anyway, I never really did tell you about the pilot that I shot the other day. It was Drop Dead Diva and it's a Lifetime production. It's about a skinny, airhead model who dies and ends up in the body of a heavy-set chick with brains. I guess they had to come up with something to explain why this entity had control over 2 nervous systems even though she only had one brain...less if you count the negative gray matter that most skinny models have.
Our job...me and the other people who work on "background", is to make the place we're at look real. The set was an old hospital that was closed down about 2 years ago. It looked like they took most of the stuff and left in the middle of the night. Just like when I worked in the movie The Gospel, they cleaned up the parts of the hospital that they needed and left the rest like it was. So, in most of those hospital scenes that you see on TV and in movies, the set is an old hospital somewhere. I would think if it was a long time show, they would have a set on a sound stage, but a pilot doesn't have access to that kind of stuff.
The rest is done with camera angles and extras. In this shoot, the extras were either technical people, doctors, patients or visitors. This is the second such shoot that I've done in a medical setting and with my years as a nurse, I was a quasi-medical technician on the set. I had to tell them things like the side rails would be up on a gurney rolling down the hall and when the director asked me, "Who would a nurse pass a chart to?" I told him, "The Unit Secretary."
He asked me, "What would she wear?" and I told him, whatever she wanted. Street clothes is customary unless you're in an Intensive Care Unit. I was having quite a bit of fun with that job because I HATE it when I watch medical stuff that is WRONG. It drives me insane. So, I got to stop those stupid mistakes...for one day anyway.
In the first scene, we all had to freeze. I don't know why, but we did. The camera came in from another room and walked through the nurses station and then down the hall of the Emergency Room. I'm not sure what they were up to with that shot, I guess I'll find out when the show comes on TV.
I imagine that it all had something to do with the "Angel" that came in to explain it all to the fat chick when she woke up all fat. The girl's name who played the chubby chick was Brook Elliot. I had never heard of her and I couldn't tell you anything else she's been in.
Anyway, then we did a scene where the angel is in the hospital room talking to the chubby chick and we were all just walking back and forth in the hallway so that you could see people walking down the hallway outside of the room. They had us stand on either side of the room and walk back and forth in the same order. I waited until the line where I was supposed to walk past the room. If they had told us what they were doing, I would have walked the same way each and every time. Instead, I had my arms across my chest in one scene and then they were down in another. Oh well, so maybe I'll make a boo-boo in the movie anyway.
The last scene that I worked in was one where we were all sitting in the background or walking, whatever...to make it a busy hospital. Most of the people changed clothes so that they weren't always a patient or a visitor, that way it looked like more people than there really were.
You have no idea how much trouble they go to in order to make the hospitals look real. It took two hours to get the people to walk aback and forth down the hall. And the principles both had to say their lines over and over again every time we walked down the hall. It was a LOT of work for everyone concerned. I spent most of my time watching the camera guys set up the shot. I was back watching the monitors. That all looked like so much fun to me!
And odd thing that has actually happened before...the hair gay guy took my pony tail out and replaced it with a rubber band. I guess that even a brown pony tail on a red head stands out too much. They don't want the background people to stand out...it might distract you from the principles. I don't see that my pony's were a problem, but what do I know. I eventually switched my pony back to another one because the rubber band was either too tight and it grabbed all of my hair or it was too loose and my hair fell out of it.
A couple of months ago, a friend of mine asked me if I knew of any set that someone could come out and use to film a hospital scene. I wonder if this was that same production?
Anyway, I have a location for a show doing a scene in a sports bar...it's the restaurant at which my roommate works. It's called The Corner bar and it's in Dunwoody on 5500 Chamblee Dunwoody Rd. They open before lunch and they don't close until the wee, wee hours. And remember my roommates huge ta-ta's! They're everything that a guy would want...big, real and round. That girl is falling out of her uniform!
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Today was another long, long shoot that I didn't enjoy as much as I could have but let me tell you...the day had it's good points!
There were a lot of people there who were at the movie shoot that I worked on the other day. One guy was a director, not THE director, but one one of his main assistants, who was at the other shoot as well. He was a cutie. If I let myself, I could enjoy my first crush in ions.
I actually flirted today! I talk to everyone...Rick used to tell me that men think I'm flirting when I speak to them. I don't know if that's true or not, but I wasn't flirting when I started just blurting out whatever popped into my head. I did decide to flirt a while later after I heard him tell someone else that HE had been busy flirting. If he was, it had to have been with me so I decided to be a nice guy and flirt right back with him.
By the end of the night, I was trying to think up an excuse to walk onto the set...and there is no excuse to walk onto the set unless you're in the crew or in the scene that they're working on at that moment. But, the last two hours were spent working on the same scene over and over again so I got to peek at him then and after I changed out of wardrobe, I went back in and asked someone where to get my pay voucher signed. When I did, the guy pointed to the cute director dude and told me that he would help me.
And help me he did. He made sure to get my name, first AND last so if he wanted to, he could find my number...and I certainly hope he does.
I haven't been out with a guy that I WANTED to go out with in forever. I do accept dates from guys and hope to have a nice time and maybe I do...but there's just nothing there. That's one reason why I go out on so many first dates. The other reason is that men take you to nicer places on first dates.
Well, it'll be interesting to see if he calls me. I was irritated with myself for not just giving him my damn number, but it was only after the way he asked me for my name that I realized that I should have given it to him. Damn it, I can't seem to do anything right.
Well, I haven't had more than 3 hours sleep in three nights. I am in serious REM deprivation and from what I've read, that can be a bad thing for your brain. I like my brain the way it is so I'm going to try to prevent it from being damaged.
Monday, September 08, 2008
According to my Baby Book, that is the first sentence that I ever spoke. I can't imagine what would make a baby who's never spoken a full sentence to start out with something like that...and now I'll never know. But I know why I'm saying it tonight...my friend and I actually got my car started and safely back to my house!
Two chicks...neither one of whom has ever jumped a car...got together and took one car that worked and one car that didn't, and we made two cars that work!
I would think most guys would have enjoyed watching our efforts. My friend is a double D and she works at a sports bar wearing a short, short skirt and a vest that shows her awesome ta-ta's. There we stood, at 12:30 at night in Dunwoody Georgia on the corner of Peachtree Industrial and Chamblee-Dunwoody Roads. That's a pretty busy intersection, even at that time of night.
There we stood, staring at the cables wondering exactly what to do. I had to convince her that you put the cables on my car first and hers last, after her car is on. She thought you just left the cars hooked up to each other before removing the cables to start the dead car. And I knew that you shouldn't let something touch some other thing, but I didn't know what wasn't supposed to touch what. So, we just didn't let anything touch anything.
When I finally convinced her that her car had to be on while mine was charging, we had to figure out what to do with the cables next. I know they're positive and negative...but it didn't say that on the cables. We could see it on the batteries...mine was plain to see and hers was hard to find. It had a big plastic thing on top of it. Neither of us knew what it was and neither one of us wanted to arbitrarily take parts of the GOOD car apart...so we couldn't figure out which side of her battery was positive. Then we noticed the red things and wondered if they had anything to do with it.
I figured that men wouldn't make things that easy to screw up with rednecks in the world. So...since it would have been stupid to make half's of things red for NO reason, we figured it had to be of some import. Then it was a matter of figuring out who's car to put them on first.
My car was dead and couldn't hurt her car but her car was alive and could have hurt mine. That was our logic so we put it on mine first...after I relented to her way of hooking them up...flatly instead of up and down. I figured it really didn't matter and I didn't think it would work anyway by that time. So, I figured, whatever.
We finally got them hooked up to our mutual satisfaction and then we let it charge for 5 minutes which we agreed was long enough. Neither of us remembered seeing a dude do it for longer than 5 minutes.
Then, we both retreated to our mutual driver's seats and she hit her gas and I turned my key and I'll be in Scotland afore ye! That damned thing turned over and the lights went on! Except, of course for the tail lights and the dash lights...all the other lights went on and then all we had to do was separate ourselves.
We stared at the cars for a minute assessing the situation. Neither one of us could come up with any logical reason why it mattered so my friend said, in order to protect her rental car (she was rear-ended last weekend her car was totaled), "We'll take mine off first." I was cool with that...we had a 50/50 shot at doing it right and she jumped my car so I let her make that call. Besides, I didn't really think it would matter. At that point, both cars are doing the same thing. So, once again...whatever.
Now it's almost 2:30 and I have to be in Dunwoody again, coincidentally, for the shoot in the morning. So, now that my car is safely ensconced in my driveway, I'm going to bed.