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Hi. I'm trying to think of another description to put here. Any ideas? I'll try again at 420.

Monday, August 31, 2009

PEOPLE I AM OLDER THAN:

1. Ethel Mertz
2. Hazel
3. Alice from the Brady Bunch.
4. Aunt Bea
5. Hogan and ALL of his heroes.
6. Captain Klink
7. Doctor Smith
8. The Love Boat cast.
9. Endora
10. The Skipper
11. The President
12. Everyone else I see at Fruit Smoothie.
13. The last 4 cops who pulled me over.
14. The nice old grandparents with whom I spent my summers.
15. The mean old grandparents who terrified me.
16. Beaver's parents.
17. My doctor, my dentist and the entire staffs of both offices...except for this one really old chick who rolls around her son's dental office in a Hoveround with Alzheimer's.
18. My father's hideous second bride.
19. The "scary old lady" who lived two doors down when I was growing up. She actually lived in the scary house where Kevin Bacon's childhood friend lived in the movie Flatliners.
20. The frumpy old lady in this picture:



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Saturday, August 29, 2009

A lot of judgement will be passed...

...on ALL of the people who conspired, by action or by inaction, to allow Jaycee Dugard to be stolen and kept from her family for nearly 2 decades. Naturally, the people who possessed the responsibility to care for Jaycee will be publicly adjudicated. The police and her parents are the likely targets at which a "publicly innocent" citizenry will aim their indignant arrows. We'll eyeball the cops first, saving the parents to subjugate only after we give them a week or so to mourn their loss. That's because we are SO perfect, isn't it?

We may give Jaycee's mother a while to grieve, but you and I are thinking the exact same thing...her daughter wasn't very far, why didn't she find her sooner? We can't mention those thoughts at a point "too soon", so for now law enforcement officials are publicly to blame. They now MUST go into a self defense mode and seriously, nothing outside of public relations will benefit when an organization is defending the past instead of learning from it. How often do we say that the real sin is NOT in making a mistake, but in not becoming better for it?

We wonder how the police could respond to a call about something "in the back yard" and never go any further than the front porch when sent to investigate. There doesn't seem to be any excuse for that, does it? If you think about it, there are only 2 possible explanations for this behavior by law enforcement...either they are co-conspirators or they simply couldn't fathom certain actions by a human being. I may not always agree with police but I do think that most of them are well intentioned so the latter must be true. The cops didn't look any further because they didn't think to prepare for the unthinkable.

Do we expect the cops to check our car trunks for dead children when they stop us for speeding? It probably never occurs to one to do so yet if a cop had pulled over a speeding Casey Anthony in the middle of June, 2008, would we blame him for any of the dreadful things that happened to Caylee?

I understand that this man was a KNOWN sex offender and that the keepers of our safety should have done a better job. Well...they didn't. The point isn't that they made a HUGE bonehead mess of this situation, but where do YOU want them right now...at a microphone studded podium or at a meeting discussing Quality Control for the system?

We all know of the guilt felt by the step-father who witnessed the kidnapping. That's too bad because he was the only person who COULD have stopped the kidnapping and he DID try. He ran as fast as he could, it just wasn't fast enough. Like most victims, he never stood a chance.

This decent man was in the middle of his law abiding life one day when 2 calculating psychopaths, who had plenty of time to plan their strategy, waited until just the right moment to pounce upon a little girl. They might have even set up the circumstances that took the step-father's attention away for the time needed to snatch that little girl. You can't stop a tiger from taking it's prey and you certainly can't stop a creature intent upon stealing one of our young. Like the hungry tiger, the attack is not personal. It's an attack of opportunity and if it hadn't been Jaycee that day, it would have been another little girl down the street.

And what of the mother? How could she have gone for 18 years without finding a little girl who never went terribly far? At times like these we like to say, "I would NEVER have stopped looking for MY daughter!" Well, really, how much time of your life can you spend looking for a missing child? Maybe some of us could search 24/7 for years. But really, could YOU do any more than the police? Of course we know that we would be screaming for our child should, God Forbid, she go missing, but how long can you search before your life becomes victimized even further? The fundamentals of life don't allow most of us to do too much more than the other parent who loses a child to a sneak attack by one who is truly a thug amongst thugs.

I understand that Jaycee's mother has taken off a week of every year on the anniversary of Jaycee's abduction. That must be a tough week for her. But after living without knowing the whereabouts of her child for every single minute of every single hour of every single day for 18 years, I think we can allow for a week of non-productivity from a desperate mother. But, much more than that would not be any sort of tribute to the missing child and we all owe it to the missing to be strong for the day that they return.

Some people use their talents very well and become unfathomably successful. When that happens, we all seem to benefit. But there is always the darker side of people and some of the dark folk are very good at what they do...and they also become unfathomably successful. It's difficult to keep up with professional perverts and their inspired methods of operation. How much time can one group of people divert to keeping up with the ingenuity of hideous people with hideous ideas?

Yep...it's brow furrowing isn't it? There isn't much of a new lesson here...we simply aren't perfect and it's our moments of imperfection that will get us every time.

2 Comments:

Blogger Nichole said...

Very interesting. I like how you write. Only two people were to blame, noone else. I agree.

September 06, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

Thank you. I get so sick of hearing people micro-analyse every dreadful thing that happens. It rarely serves any purpose.

September 07, 2009  

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Friday, August 28, 2009

So much for the leftovers


Fortune cookie say: Be sure to take the leftover Chinese food out of oven before turning on broiler.

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Looking for inner strength can be...

...a daunting undertaking but it occurs to me that all I have to do is NOT be a chicken shit like my ex. I need to remember that what separates that lying SOB from the decent humans is, when it becomes hard to tell the truth, he lies and I don't. I guess he thinks like a two year old, "If I lie to you and then walk away, you won't see my lying self."

That's not a bit true, is it? After someone lies to you, you're still there, thinking about what a LIAR you just spoke to. Then, every time anyone asks you about the liar, all you have to say is that he's a liar. Non-liars know what that means. It means that you can't be trusted. At all. Ever. Period.

People always say that my ex was so "sweet"...and I guess he was. But that's only because it's easy to be sweet around other people but it's not always easy to be honest around them.

That's actually a scary thought because it implies that sweet people are, by definition, dishonest and that's not necessarily true. Think of it like this...dishonest people are almost always sweet, but sweet people aren't always dishonest. That knowledge won't always save the day but it's one of those concepts that people should really be aware of.

I like thinking of different things I've encountered in my life...not my ex...but other stupid crap. Sometimes a thought will make me cringe but then again, so do most of my husbands. And since I've noticed that we don't experience life in a vacuum...or anything LIKE it...I like to remind myself that I'm NOT the only one who spills Kool-Aid on the carpet before the Rug Doctor gets back to the grocery store. I'm NOT the only person who ever married a Liar Extraordinaire...other people have slammed their car trunks shut while simultaneously staring at the key's next to the spare tire and as weird as it may sound, I imagine that someone else has wondered what a booger tastes like.

Keeping all of this in mind...I have decided to begin a new feature called Lists. I am going to list stuff. It won't be all Type A personality lists, it'll be lists of stuff I think most people can relate to. This could be fun or it could be like when I was doing stand-up and I became obsessed with making a joke out of Monkey Pox. Everything I tried fell flat and this very well may do the same thing. I don't know and I'm not sure I care. I enjoy doing this stuff and I'm the only one here...except for the fugitive that I'm harboring...but I'm rather comfortable being myself around him. (That...and that ALONE is the reason that I can't turn him in to the local law enforcement agencies who don't seem to have noticed that we are hiding from them. They'll figure it out sooner or later, they always do.)

Anyway, today's list is going to be a list of SIGNS THAT YOUR SPOUSE IS A LYING CHEAT:

1. Forget lipstick on his collar...mistresses of today leave lipstick on his underpants.
2. You see so much of his back in bed that you begin to see constellations in his freckles, yu have a cheat.
3. He brings you a dozen roses and one is missing.
4. They actually CARE about how they look. Mine began a habit of daily oral hygiene which told me that I could no longer deny the reality staring me right in the face,
5. There's mixed CD in your car full of random country music songs labeled in your spouses handwriting.
6. Trust yourself. If they create a branch of law enforcement patterned after YOUR efforts, you probably have a liar. I'm responsible for a lot of today's forensic knowledge, I even created the science of fiber analysis all by myself.
7. A job that used to require your spouse to spend 12 minutes a day speaking on the phone suddenly requires HOURS of phone time and busy signals.
8. The person who spent 17 years loaning you a razor all of a sudden gets annoyed at the "rough blade" you left after you used it.
9. For some reason, bathroom activities that were once shared are now individual events.
10. The receipts in the car from "his" lunch switch from Whoppers to Fruit Smoothie's.
11. I know it takes some serious chutzpah, but some cheaters actually begin to ask YOU for your opinion on their hair.
12. The same guy who used to make you account for every move you made suddenly becomes aware of "how silly that is".
13. This is a subtle one so you have to look for it...but they also stop making fun plans that include you any more than a week or so ahead of time.
14. The man who once told you that you were his soul mate begins to complain about cobwebs you didn't even think he was aware of.
15. Your "cute hairs" in the hairbrush become "DISGUSTING, FILTHY LITTLE SUCKERS!"
16. Here's an easy one...if a wife has to ask TWICE for sex, the husband is absolutely screwing someone else.
17. A man switches from jockeys to boxers...or boxers to jockeys.
18. The liar will admit to doing something REALLY bad...because the truth is so hideous the lie looks good in comparison.
19. Cheaters seem to dislike their in-laws more than they did before they cheated.
20. A man will either:

A. Suddenly learn to wipe his ass
or
B. Stop apologizing for the skid marks.

Mine chose option B, he was nothing if not disgusting.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Meg,

Add to this, and almost by definition these swine are losers of the first order, taking an unprecedented interest in job/career. Live-in courses are, as I discovered, an perfect cover for trysts (but only if you are an idiot and only for a short while).

August 28, 2009  

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Thursday, August 27, 2009

Yesterday afternoon...

...my phone rang as I was waiting for my armpit hair to grow back. THAT is not as taxing as you might think. So...I didn't mind answering my phone even though it's tethered to a wall and using it pretty much tethers ME to the wall as well. I knew immediately that it was a computer and ordinarily I would hang up the phone before that computer skank begins to speak. But...for some reason, this time my "hang up reflex" was a tad slow. I was en route to hanging up the phone successfully when I switched tact's in mid action. It was actually pretty cool, I can imagine Tom Cruise doing it in a Mission Impossible movie.

Unfortunately, and to the dismay of my father, my mouth can override my brain and say stupid stuff. Luckily for me, I think really, really quickly so in a nanosecond, I recognized the word Rasmussen, remembered that they were a "respectable" polling organization and delighted in finally having a say in a say in the hallowed polls which control our White House and national decision making. Then it occurred to me that polls can be more definitive than are our elections. An election can put a man IN the Oval Office but it takes a poll to control his political movements. The pollsters sit behind a curtain and pull the strings that they want to pull. They can manipulate the very questions they ask, would it be prudent to assume that they would NOT stop that strategy when it comes to other aspects of their operation?

My brain went that far before I actually decided to put the phone up to my ear and listen to the first question. Then, I answered all of the questions that were asked of me and...naturally...like most people...I had few if any Slightly Agree's or Disagrees, my opinions were all rather strong and my answer reflected that fact. But, halfway through the 5 minute poll, I realized that I was getting angrier and angrier over the issues at hand. I doubt that THAT was very conducive to any degree of objectivity.

I can't explain WHY I felt like I did and to be fair...it could be hormones. But...I tend to think that it has more to do with something subtly and schemingly shrewd in the poll itself or in the poll process. Whatever. It's not my job to figure THAT out, I'm just here to tell you what happened. Oh, you should also keep in mind that I had just had a root canal yesterday morning.

So, when you get the next set of number from Rasmussen, I'm the Caucasian woman in the 50-59 year old category who considers herself, in the ONLY Slight leaning answer in the entire poll, Slightly Liberal. I'd tell you what questions they asked but women in the 50-59 year range have very bad short term memory.

I can remember painting a dog when I was 4 as though it happened yesterday. But I can't remember telling my daughter a story that I actually DID tell her yesterday. She never fails to let me know that, "MOM! You've already TOLD me that story...a million times!" Damned if I can remember telling her once but I'm sure she's right.

Then, the other day I went to Walgreen's and I began chatting with the young lady at the register. It was one of those Twitversations...we had to have a decent verbal folly in the time it took me to pay for my coconut M&M's...and within that Twitversation, I asked her if HER mother ever tells HER the same stories over and over again. She said that yes, her mother did that often.

Then she said something that I thought was incredibly sweet, "Yeah, but I don't say anything, I just listen to her anyway." Between THAT chick and the Rasmussen poll, I'm so annoyed that I want to smack my daughter. Unfortunately, she's in LA so I can't do it right now. But I owe her one the next time she says, "Mom, don't you REMEMBER telling me your prom story this morning? I already know what happened with your date...Love Did NOT Keep You Together!!!"

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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

It's been an interesting day.

I woke up with a gaping hole in my smile where a tooth used to be. I had an appointment with the dentist in Dacula, Georgia but no car with which to get there. I eventually had to use almost ALL of my alimony to get to the dentist's office only to be met by all the police in Dacula. The parking lot of the medical building was full of cops, media people and one dead guy under a sheet.

What I know is that there was a shooting in the parking lot and both men ended up dead. One died on the scene and the other died later in the hospital. I heard a bunch of speculation and rumors saying that it was a murder-suicide and I also heard someone say that both men were shooting at each other. The police at the scene said that there was only one gun found but 25 or so shell casings were around the area where the dead guy was.

Apparently we drove up right after it happened because they weren't going to let me in the "crime scene". My logic tells me that whatever area they need to cordon off is wrapped in the yellow tape that was surrounding the entire lot. So, I called the dentist with the cab driver's cell phone and they just came out to get me. The only problem was we couldn't leave at that point but as I was going in for a root canal, I was ready to spend some time sucking nitrous so I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

When I went into the office, I met a lady who couldn't leave because her car was actually IN the parking lot. At that point no one was going anywhere and that lady was just happy to finally get in touch with her husband who was playing golf. She didn't want him to see the news and worry about her. (No one was worried about me...no one knew I was there.) Eventually the lovely receptionist at the dental office took the woman home as her car wasn't parked in front.

I had to travel that far to find a dentist because I had no cash, just my alimony check which I was supposed to send to the landlord. (That's another story.) I had to stop to cash it so that I could pay the cab to take me to the dentist who agreed to perform the work in exchange for my beloved Beatle collection.

Before I left the house, I found a notice on my back door stating that my dog had bitten someone, it didn't say who, and that he needed to be quarantined for 10 days. They will come and get him but I can't get him back until I pay for the boarding costs and the vaccinations that they would need to give him to be sure he's up to date. I know he is because I actually gave him the shots myself. The breeder gave me everything that I would need so I did it myself. Now my dog may have to pay for my mistake.

Since I won't give up my dog, I'm probably going to encounter some relatively minor problems in the very near future. At least I'm not lying in a parking lot with a white sheet over me.

http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/dpp/news/1_Dead_1_Injured_In_Dacula_Shooting_082609#

If you were reading this blog last spring, you might remember that I came upon a motorcyle fatality while my father and I were leaving Tampa. In case things DO come in 3's, stay away for the time being.

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Alrighty then...

...I was too young to protest over Viet Nam, I was too busy noticing boys to protest over Watergate and I've sort of been busy ever since. I always had some wee munchkin' to consider and although I adore my grandkids...they have their own parents for the tough stuff. So, everyone I care about is pretty self sufficient and all I have is my dog.

That dog at my feet is the closest thing I've had to a friend since my marital betrayal close to 5 years ago. There have been long periods of time that he's actually been the closest thing to a gentleman with whom I had come into contact. He was there when I had my seizure and he's the one who beckoned help. He wouldn't leave my side so instead he took the chair I had fallen from and banged it into the wall until beings with opposable thumbs came to shut him up. He's gotten me out of this house when I was paralysed with agoraphobia, depression and anxiety. When I didn't care enough about myself to take a walk or go to the park on weekends, I cared enough about the energetic mutt next to me to drag myself out for short walks which have matured into work outs and other forms of exercise that I enjoy a tad too much...I seem to have biceps. He was my co-pilot when I had no car as we walked mile after mile, wherever it was we had to go. When I did get a car, he would ride in it with his head above the windshield proving that he liked my convertible more than I did. Now my car has died and we'll be walking again.

It's all good, I've done it before and to tell you the truth, at least now that I know it's terminal, I no longer have to worry about fixing the stupid car. One less thing.

You know...I doubt that anyone can deny that my dog is, at the very least, my friend. And friends as loyal as he deserve more than the betrayal my dog would feel if I turned him in to the cops. I'm not turning him over to the police, I don't care what they do. I imagine they CAN get my dog, but he won't see ME turn him over to the cops. It's a matter of principle and this dog has more principle than some yahoo trying to set me up for a lawsuit. Actually, the joke is on him because I don't have a single thing for him to attach, I traded the last object of value that I owned for a root canal this morning. If he wants any cash from me, he'll have to stand behind Animal Control and my landlord. HA!

Anyway, my dog is now a fugitive and they'll have to come through me to get him. How's THAT for a fine kettle of fish? Tune in later to see how my protest pans out. Oh...and one more thing, if you're a religious type, pray that I'll have the intestinal fortitude required to stand my ground in the little drama that I seem to be embroiled in. I will come back with updates and shall tweet often even if the cops have my house surrounded. Well, ESPECIALLY if the police have my house surrounded...I might be able to get 140 characters out before they break my door down.

http://twitter.com/MariettaMeg



Payton and his cat.



Baby Payton.




Payton today.

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WAYN.com...spam scam

http://kemptech.blogspot.com/2008/07/wayncom-is-malicious-spam-scam-stay.html

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Not much bothers me...

...but if you really wanted to do it, there is one way.

I didn't mind the brain surgery so much, the pain is a distant memory and my hair has grown back. The gall bladder surgery was a walk in the park and cervical cancer was a walk in a bad neighborhood. Parathyroid cancer was a bit of a fright and when my husband screwed another chick in the middle of it, I really didn't think I would survive at all but I did. Luckily, neither the cancer nor my husband ever came back. The stroke I had two years ago wasn't so bad, like the seizure I had in May, I wasn't aware of it anyway. Multiple sclerosis isn't so bad this early in the illness and I doubt that I'll live to see it ravage my body as it has been known to do. The kids flew the nest and I replaced them with hideous young people who trashed my house and irritated the heck out of me. I can't work as a nurse until I've been seizure free for 6 months and I don't know how to do anything else. I don't have medical insurance much less dental insurance and the other day a pretty high profile tooth broke right out of my head. I actually felt lucky when I found a dentist who said that he would fix the tooth in exchange for my beloved Beatle collection.

Through all of my annoying life experiences, there has only been one friend who has never left my side. He's been a shoulder to cry on, a buddy to play with and my guardian angel. This morning when I woke up there was a note on my door from Cobb County Animal Control saying that he bit someone. It doesn't say who, where, when or how a dog that is never out of a fenced yard or off a leash could have possibly done that but it does say that he needs to be quarantined for 10 days...either at their place or with a veterinarian of my own choosing. I don't have the money to board myself, I sure as heck don't have the money to board my dog. The letter said that he won't be given back to me until I pay for the boarding fees and I don't have a clue how much that will be.

There is very little that can get to me...but I gotta tell ya...this has done it.

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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Tweets for Demi!

Could you guys do me a favor? If you Tweet, start following Demi Moore because she’s on a membership drive. Send your first Tweet to Demi saying that Meg sent you so I get credit for it. There’s no prize or anything, just the glory and satisfaction of a job well done. Help an old lady out, follow Demi Moore through Twitter-land and remember…Meg sent you!

http://twitter.com/mrskutcher

By the way, here’s Ashton’s tweet addy:

http://twitter.com/aplusk

Thanks!

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Odds and Ends

I think that...

...if the government could, they would subpeona our thoughts. I'm ALWAYS thinking stuff that could get me arrested. I don't necessarily WANT to think those thoughts, they just pop into my head and before I know it, I'm thinking about stuff that would frighten Stephen King.

This morning I when I woke up, there was a bunch of peanuts on my kitchen floor. I'm not sure why, but I do seem to remember stuffing my bra with peanuts last night after I drank 2 Long Island Iced Teas. They must have fallen out when I took off my bra. The only mystery is, why in the hell was I taking my peanut filled bra off in the kitchen?

I love fresh corn, but I hate to eat it off the cobb. So, I boil it and then I slice every kernel off of the cob and eat it that way. I particularly enjoy the pieces of corn that come off in rows as opposed to single kernels.

If, on Friday night, your feet leave the ground and you begin to float in the air, don't worry...it's just Criss Angel performing a mass levitation trick on his silly show.

I broke a tooth and tried to make my own dentures with wax and the broken tooth. It didn't work. BUT...I can't imagine that making a real denture would be so tough as to be worth a couple thousand bucks. I did the wax one in 20 minutes and if I had the right stuff, I could probably make a real one relatively quickly.

I really, really hate hot.

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Monday, August 24, 2009

My most prized possession


My entire Beatle collection, all unopened British issued vinyl albums, all 13 of them plus the 3 anthologies...I need the cash quickly so I'm going to part with these. How sad is that?

5 Comments:

Blogger John said...

Very sad indeed. I hope you have a plan to maximize the money you can get, as they are quite valuable.

August 24, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

Nope...this is an emergency. But, I've had a few of them before. Unfortunately, you and I know they're worth a LOT of money but technically, they're only worth what someone will pay.

:(

August 24, 2009  
Blogger John said...

I'd recommend e-bay, if you have 1-2 weeks to get your cash. Otherwise, do you live near Atlanta? Or maybe Athens? Both of those cities would have a good used record store that would give you a fair price for them. I'd give you prices, but my price information is probably 10 years old by now (without researching them on e-bay). There is also at least one vintage vinyl website that trades records like these. Good luck, from one vinyl nut to, apparently, another ;-)

August 25, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

Oh yeah, I even have a bunch of used Beatle albums. Jeez, I have Eat A Peach...so many cool ones. I'm in Marietta...do you have ANY idea what I should be looking at? Even 10 year old prices are better than my guess. I know what I paid for it years ago and that's about it. I won't hold you to anything you might guess, I just don't know where to start.

Meg

August 25, 2009  
Blogger John said...

There's a store near me, Princeton Record Exchange, that buys records and has a good reputation. They have forms on their website that will result in them giving you a quote. But skimming around e-bay, I found the Meet the Beatles unopened Mono went for $42, an opened Second Album went for $16.99, but packs of 10 opened albums regularly go for between $10 and $20. There are also books printed with Beatles Record & Memorabilia price lists. Maybe the Marietta library has a copy of something similar.

August 28, 2009  

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Yesterday I was flipping through channels...

...and as I stopped at a morning news show, I heard a tease for an upcoming segment. Apparently someone had done some sort of study about women and how important sex is in their lives. They implied that the study would be "shocking". Of course, they were male reporters...and when it comes to sex, you can tell a man any bad stuff and he will be shocked at what "other men" do. It's amazing, it really is. You could describe your nightmare love-making session and it could be EXACTLY what your man does...but he won't see himself in the story. You could delineate the man's nipple ring, shaved head and penile tattoo, yet he will REFUSE to recognize himself in any story that does NOT cast him as the heroic stud who comes to the horny nymphomaniacs' rescue.

I didn't ever get back to that channel to see what the study had concluded, but I'm pretty sure that I can guess. And...I doubt that TOO many men would REALLY be shocked at my supposition. I think they know that if women were as horny as are they, Obama would be discussing Funds for Fucking instead of Cash for Clunkers. But someone has to put on the sexual breaks and it falls to women to do so.

We seem to be able to see the fun in activities that do NOT include the possibility of burning our necks with a curling iron. Especially when you consider that we just end up with bedhead anyway. I don't mind getting ready for the day, but getting all prettied up for a romp in the hay seems like a HUGE waste of my time. Imagine going to all that trouble only to look up and see a man with his eyes closed. Now THAT's annoying.

And, under the best of love-making circumstances, women need a shower as soon as it's over. (There are some things that powder just doesn't help.) Even if a chick showered ten minutes before, there's really no way to avoid another shower after sex. And, if we actually primped before sex, we need to use eye make-up remover to get the mascara off. Decent sex is very unforgiving on most mascaras. I'd like to see a commercial for the stuff that says, "You can have 4 orgasms and your mascara STILL won't run." THAT I would buy. But I digress.

If primping and de-primping were the only chore, it wouldn't be so bad. But remember, that's under the BEST of circumstances. Most love-making does not fall into that category. Sadly, too many delusional men are walking around. The smother fuckers alone make up a relatively large percentage of men and I don't understand that at all. You would think that some bitch along the way would have said, "GET YOUR DAMN WEIGHT OFF OF ME!!!" or that one of them would have died but a smother fucker will still crush your chest with the full weight of his own body and that's NEVER a good thing. Why these yahoos don't use the elbows God gave them is beyond me.

As women, we like to be efficient and utilise our time efficiently. But men seem to think that it's a good thing to "last all night". Like bathtub sex, lasting all night is good on paper, but in practice, it really doesn't live up to the hype. Yet, there are men who seem to think that we want their smelly, funked up and sweat dripping bodies on us for more than 20 minutes or so. Anything that's gonna happen is generally gonna happen in 20 minutes so after that the thrusting is pretty superfluous and a tad unwelcome. As general rule of thumb, sex should last no longer than it takes to fix one's hair, apply make-up and get dressed.

Don't get me wrong...having a lot of sex is a good thing, but for real...take a break every so often. Unless I'm mid-orgasm, I always appreciate a guy who says, "Let's watch Family Guy and then make love again." If there were a sex union, a break would be mandatory. As it is, I just get irritated after a certain period of time and TRUST ME...NOTHING good could come of that.

Sometimes a nice, thoughtful man will pop-up and he'll want to do whatever it is that a woman wants to do so for that guy...here are some ideas of THINGS THAT I WOULD RATHER DO THAN HAVE SEX:

1. Clean out my ears out with generic q-tips.
2. Pull weeds out of the cracks in my sidewalk.
3. Clean out my junk drawers.
4. Vacuum the cobwebs from behind my desk.
5. Pick up the pine cones in my back yard.
6. Pick at the dead skin peeling off of my right foot.
7. Stare into my refrigerator.
8. Check the Brillo Pad I'm currently using for rust.
9. Call my father and borrow money from him.
10. Clean the blades on every ceiling fan in the house.
11. Floss.
12. Apply Ora-Gel to the roof off my mouth where I burned myself eating really hot pizza.
13. Check my dog's backside for fleas.
14. Dump my panties out of my panty drawer, fold them all and then put them back according to type; bikini's, granny's or the uncomfortable ones that I only wear before sex.
15. Spray bleach around the shower to stop mildew from sprouting.
16. Search for and throw away all out of date phone books.
17. Pull down the ugly wall-paper in my bathroom.
18. Take the bag of lone socks from the laundry room and see if any match.
19. Pumice any and all callouses on my body.
20. And last...but certainly not least...masturbate.

Now...if you REALLY want to impress a woman...forget all that "last all night" crap and offer to help in any of the first 19 productive pursuits listed above.

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Sunday, August 23, 2009

Everytime someone tries...

...to prove gravity to me, they just drop stuff.

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Saturday, August 22, 2009

I don't remember where...

...but years ago I read that,when it comes to lovemaking, people will generally do to you what they like to have done to them. So, if your lover really gets into pleasing you orally, you can generally assume that they enjoy having it done to them. Now that I think of it, oral gratification was probably a bad example because when it comes to heading south of the border, very few people will place road blocks up when “Daniel Boone” goes exploring. But you get the point…pay attention to what your lover does to you…and, if it’s physically possible, do the same thing back to them.

I read that salacious tidbit before I figured it out for myself. What no one told me was that when people want to OFFEND another…they go with what offends THEM….sort of the same theory in reverse. And just like the chick with the huge implants gets no thrill out of nipple attention, calling an adult “poo poo head” probably wouldn’t be any more annoying than the kid in Peoria who is currently crying for her nukkie. I can’t hear the kid in Peoria and I’m not even sure what a “poo poo head” is…so neither one of those things bothers me much. A dude can lick all day long but the only productive thing to come out of that exercise in futility is that Numb Nipples now knows that the guy wants her to lick HIS nipples. And if I am truly a “poo poo head”, all I can say is this, “I’m rubber, you’re glue, bounces off me and sticks to you.”

Every so often some wanker finds me offensive for one reason or another. It doesn’t really appear as much more than a blip on my radar yet a LOT of time is put into the effort to get all eighth grade on me. That’s cool, any yahoo who feels the need to attack from behind the cloak of anonymity isn’t going to be taken any more seriously than Gaddafi takes the United States. Eighth grade tactics bothered me when I was in eighth grade, but I can pretty much shake my head and walk away at this point in my life. If you wanted to hurt me, you’d have to have information that I don’t share with many people in real life, I certainly don’t give the online wankers enough information to bug me.

That nutty roommate of mine tried to scare me when she said, “I WILL ROCK YOUR WORLD!” First of all, when I said that crap 30 years ago, I said, “I will rock your world…TWICE.” Secondly, I said that crap 30 years ago! That chick never had enough information to “rock my world” and the cretins who think they’re bothering me should be in the Time Wasters Hall of Fame. Over the past 5 years I’ve had my share of internet hecklers and if they were going to shut me up, scare me away or rock my world, it would have happened years ago. As it is, I’m still here, at the same URL where I’ve been forever, typing away everyday with my morning coffee to give all comers a piece of my mind…twisted as it may be at times.

But…to the eighth grade mind, this is great folly. Giddy up.

I receive daily insults in my emails that I considered posting up here but then it occurred to me that you guys don’t care about that anymore than I do so I thought better of it. But…I did want to make the two points that I made at the beginning of this post so that you might be able to use the info at some point in life.

One other thing…something that I always told my kids while they were growing up…you never discover a NEW idiot…you stumble upon a KNOWN idiot. Trust that people with a brain will see a moron for the fool that he or she is and then just walk away.

OK…now that I’ve finished my grandmotherly lesson du jour, I suppose I can chat away about something else. Today is most definitely a weekend day and that means that I’m taking my dog to the local dog park. It’s a huge fenced in area where dogs are not allowed to be on a leash so the place is almost exclusively utilised by owners of very well behaved dogs. I’m quite pleased to be in that category.

There’s just one small problem…my dog sees it as one huge toilet. He spends most of his time marking territory marked by the cocker spaniel in front of him. And since I chose to take him home should he dare to take a dump in the dog park…he seems to have decided that I take him there specifically for that purpose. I can take him for a two mile walk and he will STILL squat as soon as he gets to the dog park. The first time it happened I was rather embarrassed but now it happens so often I just carry the bags in my pockets and wait to perform my appointed sanitation duty.

Of course if my dog SHOULD stop making deposits long enough to look around, he will immediately smell the butt of the nearest dog…male, female or toy poodle. He’s definitely anal…I just wish he was more retentive.




This is what happens to boiling eggs as you sleep.

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Friday, August 21, 2009

I'm ba-ack!

For reasons that I don't know, my phone stopped working two days ago. Shortly after that, my internet connection was down as well. I walked to a payphone (those suckers are hard to find!) and called the phone company who said that someone would be out "no later than 7 PM on Saturday". Then, I walked home and waited...and waited...and waited.

This morning when I woke up, I walked into the kitchen as I always do to get my morning cuppa and while I was getting it, the phone rang. It was my sweetie dude. I don't know what was wrong with the phone and I don't know why it started working again but it did. My internet was still down so I called the ISP and some chick in India talked me through that so now I have both working again.

While I was in the information third world, I had time to do stupid stuff like vacuum the entire house, baseboards included. That was really fun. It began to get somewhat addictive so I went ahead and sucked cobwebs out of the wall corners. I even sucked up a few spiders while I was doing that so now I'm as afraid of my vacuum cleaner as is my dog.

I also started throwing away stuff that I've been saving for years without even looking at what it was I was trashing. If I did, I would have found some stupid reason to keep it and since I don't want to be on an OCD reality show, I just tossed everything that I haven't looked at in the past year. I could keep doing that if I were so inclined but now that I'm back in touch with the free world, I think I'll stop for a while.

While I was out of touch with you guys, I realized that I have MORE than enough crap for one helluva yard sale so if you need anything, let me know. Chances are very good that I have at least one of everything in the world except for a winning lottery ticket.

Now that I'm back in touch with the world wide web...I think I'm going to pop around to see what I missed over the past few days. I'll be back soon, I just need to read the news, answer my email and reject all of the comments being left by that nutty Walkwitz dude and his freaky cohorts.

See ya!

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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

I just got home from the Marietta Police Department...

...where I finally met with a detective who behaved like a professional police officer. He didn't attempt to defend the other cops that I spoke with, he simply treated me like a witness to a crime. He mentioned that the case might not go much further because of the time that has elapsed but he will be bringing the dude in to be interrogated like a suspect in a crime. That's all I ever wanted.

So...I am now pleased with the local police again.

Of course, I'm not happy with the Philadelphia Eagles and today I'm mentioning one of a long line of sponsors that I will be boycotting until Mike Vick no longer has a job with the NFL.

Today's company non grata:

Reebok Corporation

Not only is Reebok a sponsor, but they have started selling Michael Vick jerseys again. If you boycott no other company, focus your efforts on Reebok. This is a company that just does not seem to care about its customers.
corporate@reebok.com

President and CEO: Uli Becker

CFO: John Warren

Chief Marketing Officer: Matthew H. (Matt) O’Toole
Address:
1895 J. W. Foster Blvd.Canton, MA 02021
Phone:
781-401-5000
Fax:
781-401-7402

4 Comments:

Blogger Sous Gal said...

Thank GAWD Meg, finally someone is doing something.

Further to my last comment...he phoned LOL

August 18, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

Yeah...I'm tickled pink that someone listened to me!!!

And yeah again, we have to play that silly game to get them to call. Whatever dudes! Sooner or later they all do!

:):):)

August 18, 2009  
Blogger Sous Gal said...

Can't wait to hear what the police come back with, or maybe you'll have to call them to find out? :)

So dude and I are going to dinner. We talk fine enough and it's nice. But still, again, I won't chase some guy. Isn't it a known that the man shows the interest? Isn't it sad when they do that passive/aggressive "call me if you want" shit? Man up. Ask her if she'd like to see you again, if she says Yes, suggest a day/evening, time and activity. If she says "nah..." at least everyone's on the same page!

August 18, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

I would think it's a given but one thing I've learned since I've been single again is that the new rules don't really relate to the old rules. BUT...I still play by the old rules because I don't understand the new ones. Keep up your own values...somewhere in the backs of their heads men are aware of the old rules...they are just confused by women who play by new rules. Give him a chance to understand your rules and if he doesn't man up then, move on down the road!

Good luck!

Meg

August 21, 2009  

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I have just finished speaking...

...to the 4th Marietta police officer who has ignored me over the assault that I suffered on June 21. This one called me after I tried to complain to the chief of police. When I tried to call the chief, I was told that I would have to start by complaining to the commander. I left a message with the commander and never heard back from him. I did, however, receive a call from a shift supervisor at 7 AM who told me that in order to file a formal complaint, I had to speak to him first. Then he said that he would investigate my complaint when the officers were back at work (they've left for the day) after which I would be invited to come and file the formal complaint. If that makes no sense to you...join the club.

After I was assaulted on the 21rst of June, I had to call the police 3 times to get anyone who would listen to me about the assault. I was told that the perp would be charged with domestic violence which I didn't understand because I barely knew the man. I figured the court would let me know when I needed to testify but when I didn't hear from them, I called to find out what the status of the court case was. The clerk didn't know what I was talking about so it was obvious that the cops lied to me when they told me that they would be arresting the coward who assaulted me.

PHONE RINGING

I'm not sure why, but the guy who just got done telling me that he couldn't take my complaint until he spoke to the officers that I wanted to complain about just called me with a new story. Now I should go to the police department and file a complaint form BEFORE the investigation. He said he "couldn't get in touch with the officers involved" so instead of making me wait, he thought he would call and tell me to go fill out the form.

When I originally asked him how to file a formal complaint he said that I would talk to him. I asked if there wasn't any paperwork to fill out and he said that there was, but I would do that AFTER he spoke to the officers about which I'm complaining. When I asked if they investigated BEFORE I filed the complaint he responded, "Yes, when you file the complaint you'll want to speak to someone who knows what's going on." Apparently it's NOW OK to speak to someone who is clueless about the situation. That's fine, I don't really know how he would have investigated anything before I actually complained anyway.

I learned something new...according to the officer that I just spoke to, the guy said that I assaulted HIM. I spent the entire assault on my back in total defense mode and there is one other thing, I DO have pictures of my injuries and there was a witness who stopped to help me when he saw the guy assaulting me in the street. The witness said that he had called the police who showed up within a few minutes. He even told the dude not to leave until the cops got there. The cop just told me that there was NO 911 call and that the original officer said that he just happened upon "2 cars with 4 people in them". That cop, Officer Braxton, never got the witness's name so I'll have to find that myself by posting a sign on a phone poll near where the assault occurred.

Up until this morning, I would have been happy to have the person who assaulted me arrested for assault. Now I have been put in a situation where I MUST file a complaint about the cops who ignored my pleas for help. After I found out that the police lied and that they never arrested the bum in the first place, I tried to find out what happened and the cop to whom I was speaking just said, "I can see you're not going to be happy no matter what I say." Well, he didn't SAY anything...once again...except for defending the actions of the cops who showed up first. If I weren't so disgusted, I would laugh at the way ALL FOUR COPS were concerned, not with me or my injuries, but with explaining to me why the previous cops didn't do their jobs in the first place. So now I'm more annoyed at the Marietta Police Department than I am at the yahoo who beat me up in the first place. I'm sure that when I look at the pictures of my injuries again, my anger will go back to the woman beater who attacked me but right now, I'm stunned that I can't find one cop in this town who cares that a woman beater is free to roam around their city.

Even if they didn't care that I was assaulted, you would think that they might be concerned that someone they DO care about might be next.

Here are the posts that tell you what happened that night:

http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-finally-figured-out.html
http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/2009/06/ok_22.html
http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/2009/06/did-you-know-that.html

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Monday, August 17, 2009

Sack Mike Vick

Excellent website for dog lovers:

http://www.sackvick.net/





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OK then...

...I should know that my first instinct is usually right.

I went to all of the trouble to apologize for "misjudging" a "nice" guy after I didn't give him a chance to be a nice guy. I just assumed that the guy was a cad and I told him up front that we wouldn't be having sex the night he came over here to watch TV. Then, when we hung out again, he asked me why I said that. I felt badly for not giving him an opportunity to be decent before I gave him the sex caveat so I told him that I was sorry and I posted a retraction on this blog...humbling myself before him and the entire internet world.

Then, we decided to hang out again yesterday.

The day began nicely enough, he came over and I made dinner to eat as we relaxed and watched a movie. At one point he wanted to go back to his place so we did and I took all of the makings for muffins with me so that I could make us something sweet to eat.

When we got to his place, I immediately went to work on the muffins. I put them in the oven to bake and then I went over to where he was watching TV. Before the stupid muffins were done, he made the following comment:

"If you ever want to have cheap, meaningless non-committal sex, just let me know."

I responded, "Did I do or say anything that makes you think it's OK to say something like that to me?" He laughed, apparently thinking that I was kidding. Well, I wasn't. I left it at that and waited for the muffins to finish cooking, all the time thinking about what had just transpired. By the time they were done, I decided that it was time to head home. I got the muffins, gave him a couple and then I wrapped up the rest in plastic wrap. He asked me if I wanted butter on mine and I said, "No, I'm leaving."

He asked, "Did I say something wrong?" I said, "Oh no, how could THAT be?" Then I took my muffins and left.

OK...so I gave him a chance to be decent...he wasn't. He was just more proof that some men simply do not possess the brain power to fight the testosterone induced urge to act like an idiot.

This one HAS the capacity to be a nice guy. I've seen him do it...a lot. I've known him for years and he has NEVER done anything like that before. But somehow...after years of behaving appropriately...yesterday it was just too much for him and he simply HAD to be a jerk.

However, I must say, it WAS an interesting change from the usual groping that I have to contend with. Instead of pushing him away and leaving immediately in disgust, I had to sit there, think about what he said, consider my options carefully while developing a plan and then I had to act on those considerations.

A few different things came to mind as I was sitting there, reeling from the shock and waiting for my muffins to cook. I could have slapped him, argued with him or walked out on him. I'm not a slapper type person and I hate to argue so my decision was not at all a difficult one. I could also have tossed a drink at him and drink tossing is something that I'm familiar with because generally, you have to be sitting in a bar with a drink in your hand to meet such disrespect. I've tossed my share of drinks in my day, I've even picked up the mustard or ketchup and squirted THAT on a man or two. But, all I had was my iced tea and I wanted it so I chose to simply get up and walk away.

One interesting aside...when I asked him if I had done or said anything that made him feel as though he could speak to me that way, his answer was, "Well, it goes back to that 'We won't be having sex.' comment that you made the other day." You know how a 2 year old can sit there with chocolate on their face wondering how you knew they ate the cake? Well, some men are just that stupid. This one is no exception.

He did that instinctively man thing of turning it all back on me before he even wondered if it would make sense to do so. He didn't think his plan through past that stupid comment, instead he counted on feminine stupidity to carry him should he meet resistance to his "logic". I'm not sure which of his assumptions is more offensive...the assumption that he could get away speaking to me like I'm some sort of trollop or the assumption that the mere presence of my boobs would make me dumb enough to fall for the "turning it back on me" strategy.

Although I'm glad that I walked away, I do wonder what he would have said had I pursued that line of questioning. But, been there, done that. My ex was one who would tell a lie before he ever considered how many laws of physics the lie was breaking. And, of course, men who lie so reflexively never admit that they're lying so you can hear some dumb ass bullshit when you do try to pin them down. At first it seems like a waste of time, but if you think about it, it really does keep your asshole radar well honed.

2 Comments:

Blogger Sous Gal said...

I'm truly enjoying your posts about dating and men :) On what planet does he think that comment was appropriate, warranted, acceptable or cute??

I've got one of my own to toss your way: Guy asked me out for coffee. I went. I sent him an email two days later thanking him for the coffee. He wrote back that he wasn't sure how to "read" my email...he was attempting to find out if I was interested in dating, I think. (I'm back in my hometown and we went to the same high school, back in the day).

He further wrote this: "If you think you'd like to have dinner, give me a call sometime."

Guess what. I haven't called :)

August 17, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

DUH!!!

Men...if it must be said, YOU call US...at least the first time.

Well Sweet Sous...they can be a conundrum, can they not?

Glad you're enjoying it...so am I. Even when this crap happens. I just can't WAIT to get back here and tell you guys about it!

Meg

August 17, 2009  

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Friday, August 14, 2009

I don't mind admitting...

...when I'm wrong, after all, we all are at times. But what I despise is, actually BEING wrong. The other day I wrote a post saying that I would be telling men up front that there would be no sex after a date. I had a good reason for saying that, I'm sick of playing defense to men who seem to think that when I agree to a date I'm agreeing to have sex with them. When thinking that little plan through, I left out one consideration...there are decent guys out there who might just enjoy my company without necessarily having sex with me.

And naturally, the one time I DO tell a guy that "We won't be having sex so don't even think about it.", I chose a guy who has enough respect for me NOT to think that we would be having sex in the first place. What a jack ass I am.

Nice Guy Dude came over to watch TV the other night and I gave him the sex caveat. Then, he and I got together again last night and he made a point to ask me about that stupid comment. I immediately felt like an idiot and realized that I hadn't even given him a chance to be a nice guy before assuming that he was just another cad. My bad.

The way my luck goes, I figure the Cubs will win the World Series the October following my death. So, I should have known better than to make that stupid comment before the guy did anything wrong. But...I didn't so I made a fool out of myself by saying what I said.

When he agreed to come over for a friendly evening of TV watching, who knew that he REALLY wanted to watch TV? I keep saying that I know there are decent guys out there so I should assume that sooner or later I might run into one of them.

In my own defense, there ARE a lot of horny creepy dudes out there and I seem to run into an inordinate amount of them. So many so that I was beginning my defense before a guy even snapped the ball. I committed a social false start and for that I apologize.

I apologized profusely to Nice Guy Dude, he let it slide and then we watched people cooking on TV. We chatted for a while and when I left, I got a friendly kiss on the cheek and left without having to block one single pass. It was strange...but very nice. I hope it happens again.

Of course, I'm still left with the notion that nice guys seem to be the exception and the realization that I will probably still be fighting off some of the other type in the future. Of course, from now on I'll give them a chance to be nice before I do that. But, although I won't be going offsides anymore, I will probably adopt a stronger defense strategy from now on. I pity the fools who try to run their balls on me next time.

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Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Interestingly...

...whomever it was that sprayed the swastika on Smyrna congressman Scott's sign knew exactly where to go to avoid the security cameras. I doubt that Scott is right when he accuses "teabaggers" of the crime. I am quite sure that he needs to look closer to home to find his local vandal.

Apparently the feds are going to assist the congressman in his "attempt" to bring the right wing racist SOB to justice. Right. And then we'll be seeing him on a Florida golf course.

What's that question that the cops always ask? "Who stands to benefit from this crime?" I hope they ask that in this situation. I'd ask the congressman to take a lie detector test regarding his possible knowledge of this pathetic exhibition but I'm sure he would find it fun to have a right to privacy all of a sudden so I'll just leave it there.

Scott would feign disgust at the very idea of a polygraph in as stunning a hypocritical twist as the ACLU adopting a new perspective towards parenting in that they believe that religion is something that a "child should learn at home, not at school". All of a sudden we find out what parents are here for. We're certainly not here to teach our culture to our kids...that's racist. We aren't here to teach then what we believe a family is...that's homophobic. And we certainly aren't here to teach them good things about the men who died for our country...that's sexist...and racist...and homophobic. But religion is safe to leave to parents. After all, once they get the kids into school they can inculcate them into whatever doctrine that they deem appropriate.

For over a day I thought about whether or not I should even put my thoughts on this topic out here. I almost didn't. The reason was the fear of being perceived as racist. I'm not, nor have I ever been racist. But, listening to the manipulation of the facts by the media, the government and special interest groups, I realize that it's something that I have no control over. I AM going to be called racist any and every single time that I speak my mind in a way that doesn't fit in with the government line. I can behave with the most genteel of manners and yet still, as soon as I voice one hint of opposition to any popular power grab that's worth enough...there WILL be people who absolutely will classify me as something heinous and evil. I can't do a damn thing to stop it except shut up and pray that no one turns me in to the Obama administration.

I've never been good at that kind of stuff.

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Will you be my friend if I promise not to punch you?

"...No games, and please be SINGLE! ....No One Under 40, or 'sort of unattached'. Please Send a picture, and place your height in the subject line tired of spammers! Thought I would throw this in - I need a piece of plywood, approximately 5' X 4' (for my deck) Can you help?"

Now THAT'S a chick I could be friends with! Not because of the kind of guys she likes...my taste is much more varied. But any woman who posts an ad for a guy and throws in a request for plywood has GOT to be fun to hang out with and I'm SURE she'll get her wood soon.

Requesting building supplies is as sweet as requesting men with lawnmowers and that always works for me although this week I mowed my own lawn because, for some odd reason, my lawnmower started. When it did, I decided to get the grass mowed myself. The day I mowed the grass, I decided that I didn't need to work out since I was going to be doing lawn work. Then, my neighbor came to the fence to chat and I ended up borrowing her lopper thingie to cut down the crap that I couldn't get with the mower and after a day and a half of bending over to lop crap off, I have officially put my back out. Now I won't be working out for a LONG time. I haven't decided whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Oh well, I'm sure that my Sensei will come up with something for me to do.

The other day I realized that my lessons have been paying off...but it was an accident. I've always been one to throw fake punches at people much larger than myself. I did it again the other day and I actually hurt a dude. I never meant to hurt anyone, I didn't even know that I COULD hurt anyone. But, after tossing a playful punch at an unexpecting chest, I realized that I'm stronger than I thought I was. Much to my surprise, the guy grabbed himself and fell backwards. I felt like Ralph Machio when he realized that "Wax on, wax off!" had paid off. I stared at my little fist with the glee of a baby who just realized the connection between his brain and his fingers. Of course, I felt a bit guilty...but that didn't last long.

So, now that I know I can deck a dude, I'll be much more careful when throwing fists and much less afraid of large men. I wish my ex would try to come after me now...I bet I could, at the very least, leave a mark. I'd like to leave one bruise before I croak...scratch marks are so passé.

On second thought, any chick who can defend herself can also mow her own lawn so maybe I should just pretend to be as weak and helpless as I was when I was UNDER 50.

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Tuesday, August 11, 2009

My word...

...how diplomatic:



When I was a kid the government used water hoses to shut up the protesters. They have a new tactic:



If you dare to oppose them, the White House will find you:

http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/Facts-Are-Stubborn-Things/

How many republicans has Bill Maher bedded?

“Well, first of all I think the bottom line is that religion makes people arrogant. One of the things I don't like about religion is I think it is arrogance...I think religion is usually, especially in this country, it's arrogance masquerading as humility.”..."They're bad at sex. They're pasty, unattractive white people, and if you had to have sex with them it would be over in an excruciating three minutes.”

Bill Maher and his opinion of us couldn't get much lower. It appears as though he is pretty representative of the current attitude that nit wits have of most Americans. The White House can deny that they think we're stupid but seriously...wouldn't we have to be? It is the height of stupidity to blindly follow ANY leader and to let him shove his agenda down our throats without questioning him and his authority to do so. They can say that they don't think we're stupid all day long but until they begin treating the country like something other than a group of whiny 3 year olds that are in dire need of a nap, I think it's safe to assume that Obama's White House is counting on morons in it's attempt to overtake a huge, private industry that it has absolutely no constitutional right to take over.

Unfortunately, they're are a certain number of morons out there. Identifying them is a bit of a challenge because there is no such thing as rational discourse where they are concerned. They hide in their mother's basement until they finally get a job that pays 10 bucks an hour and all they have to do is deride those who disagree with Obama. Sweet gig if you can get it.

I'll make a deal with the White House, the DNC or whomever it is offering that 10 bucks an hour. If the ordinary asshole is worth $10, I submit that I'm worth $30. So, pay me 30 bucks an hour and I will kiss the appropriate ass and spout the party line. I was on the Speech and Debate team in high school so I know how to argue two sides of the same coin.

:)

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Sidewinders suck

It's not a citizen's fault...

...that America only has two political parties from which to choose. It seems as though all dissenters MUST be classified as the opposition as though there is only one singular group of opposers. People opposed to the proposed health care reform being "discussed" in Washington these days may have very little in common with each other besides the fact that, for one reason or another, they disagree with the massive overhaul of our government.

And make no mistake, there's no way that Washington can take over one sixth of the American GDP without sustaining massive changes itself. I'm not sure that a government takeover of such a large percentage of the economy can EVER be a good thing, regardless of which one sixth it usurps.

If you asked me to choose the three businesses that inherently have the most access to our private information, I would quickly come up with education, financing and health care. The government has had access to our education for quite some time and recently, they've begun quite the little blitzkrieg on the remaining two areas.

Has it ever occurred to any of the yahoos arguing in the streets that perhaps that's exactly where the government wants us to be? Senators lump us into categories and then send us off to bicker with each other and no one ever stops to ask why. It's rather frightening that so many of us are falling for that blatent ploy without once looking around to ask, "Is there anything else that we should be monitoring while we battle each other over health care?"

We have all been lumped into one of two categories when Americans are about as diverse a group of people as there is anywhere else on this planet. It's much easier to classify us as either republican or democrat. Isn't that convenient for those who want to aim us at each other?

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Monday, August 10, 2009

Good morning ya'll!!!

A while back I decided that dating might be a bit easier and less time consuming if, rather than wasting time playing defense at the end of a date, I just make it clear from the beginning that coitus is not going to happen. Most guys will still hang with you after hearing that...but not for any length of time.

At first it was challenging to work, "If you're thinking about sex, I gotta tell you...it's not gonna happen." into a conversation. But, the more I do it, the easier it gets. I find that timing is everything when you make such a declaration. Do it too early and a guy will look at you funny. Do it too late and the guy will fondle you funny. So don't ever forget that there IS a line of demarcation between "too early" and "too late". You must recognize the proper moment and be ready to open your mouth and jump right in. As I said, the more you do it, the easier that moment is to pick up on.

I find that the timing is often dependent upon the guy himself. If he, at some point, asks you to "Come to my house for some iced tea...we can watch a movie and you can meet my kitten!"...you must recognize that for the manipulative thing that it is. Isn't this one smart? He's inviting you to his place to drink some safe iced tea, watch a safe movie and play with a safe little kitten. How could that be construed as the setting of a trap? Only good guys have iced tea, DVD's and kittens...right?

After a question like that, you must be ready to pounce on your friend with the unmistakable assurance that you and he will NOT "become one" anytime soon. Once a guy gets you back to his place...he necessarily becomes much more resistant to that concept. He'll find a bazillion reasons why he is all of a sudden completely incapable of driving...so you may have to "spend the night". Now he'll have retorts to your protestations so you're pretty much forced into a conversation not of your own making and one that you'd rather not be having. There's no reason to invite anymore unpleasantness than you absolutely have to so try not to argue at all...even though every fiber of your body wants to say, "Leave me alone you baseball cap wearing, spare tire carrying, redneck with a lisp!" So remember...when it comes to dumping or being dumped...public places are far better locations in which to operate than is some dude's homeland.

You won't get as many pats on the back...men seem to change their ENTIRE attitude when they know that sex is not an option. It's actually quite fascinating to watch. One minute they would eat dirt for you and the next they want you to stop wasting space that another woman might fill. Back to dumping people in public places...I like Denny's for that particular task. They're almost always deterring witnesses and should you get stuck with the bill, how much could it be? If you had the foresight to order nothing more than coffee, you could get out of that relationship for little more than the price of a Grand Slam. (By the way, McDonald's is OK for teenagers although Happy Meals should be avoided. I don't know about you but I'd be playing with the toy while the dumpee was crying and that COULD tend to portray me as "cold". I don't mind actually BEING cold...but I hate the portrayals. They are SO open to interpretation and misunderstanding.)

Sometimes it can be a sad chore although it usually makes a woman feel rather empowered. I DO like the feeling of empowerment, but I do sort of miss pretty boys and men with huge chests. I had to walk away from one recently and I tell you, it almost broke my heart. But I just kept telling myself that anyone can wrap a penis up in a nice package...it puts things in perspective so I don't mind as much when they walk away. Now that I think of it, I sort of enjoy the image of certain guys walking away. I have a great picture in my head of Pretty Boy with the huge chest walking away. It may be sad in one way, but then again, that sight was probably the best asset that guy possessed.

I'm SO glad that I quit while I was ahead.

:)


2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

It is spelled "y'all" -- a contraction of "you" and "all." The apostrophe goes where you removed letters, as in all other contractions.

August 16, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

Damn!!! Thank you so much! I never thought of that and you're right...I should have because I KNOW that you put the apostrophe where the missing letters go. I have no excuse, I've always spelled it like that. But...in the future, I'll spell it correctly. Y'all are so smart!

:)

August 17, 2009  

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Sunday, August 09, 2009

The more I date...

...the more of a chore it gets to be but for some reason, I find it necessary to work like an idiot in hopes of meeting that ONE guy who I don't want to push out of a speeding car. That guy has eluded me thus far but in the meantime, I'm honing my Bitch Skills in the hopes of shortening my association with nit wits. I recognize them easily enough...but it takes a bit to get rid of them once I get wind of any challenges, intellectual or social, that a man might harbor.

What I find fascinating is the propensity that so many men have for playing silly games that serve no purpose other than to sap my strength and kill my buzz. I don't even think that they realize they're doing it yet they do it with amazing predictability. Consider this discussion:

HE: I need to tell you something about myself...

ME: No, you don't, not while I'm watching this movie.

HE: Whoa! You're so defensive, how did you get that way?

ME: I'm not defensive, I'm watching Cinderella Man.

HE: I think you should look inside of yourself and see if you don't see any defensive attitudes that you aren't aware of.

ME: No, it would be easier for you not to be rude than it would for me to get psycho-analysed.

HE: You don't think that's defensive?

ME: Nope. I'm pretty sure it was OFFensive.

HE: See? You're so angry!

ME: Not at all, I'm simply trying to watch the movie.

HE: Ooh, that's cold. I'm trying to have a meaningful conversation with you and you're running away from it.

ME: Get the fuck outta my house.

I should know better than to trust any of the yahoos that say, "Look...your dog likes me!" For some reason, guys think that they can worm their way into my good graces by attaching undue significance to the fact that my dog didn't bite them in the face. He's a good dog...he'll be nice to anyone who's nice to me. That does NOT mean we're engaged...it means that I haven't uttered the secret word that will make him attack.

So....I'm free of that crap today...but I couldn't say that last night. I ran into some friend of my son's who wanted to "finally tell me how he really" felt. That was mega-uncomfortable because ordinarily, I would laugh in the face of someone who said such stuff, assuming that he was after an relatively unearned piece of ass. But I think this guy was serious so that gave me pause when I considered the string of wisecracks that I could have made.

But...before long, the same old testosterone induced manipulation reminded me that even men who really, really "like" a woman will...almost always:

A. manipulate them as much as they would a piece of ass chick

B. underestimate women in general

C. state that they "hate game playing" and then, when you tell him what's bothering you, in a uniquely male demarche, list all the reasons why YOU are to blame for any and all of HIS shortcomings

That last trick is designed to shut a woman up. Whether or not a man knows he's doing it, this conversation, or something like it, takes place every day between couples:

SHE: You know, I wanted to tell you that as much as I love you, it bothers me when you leave the bathroom sink all funky everyday...I don't want to see your toothpaste spit and whiskers first thing in the morning. Would you mind rinsing the sink for me?

HE: I would but because of your chosen "standard of living", I have to wake up at 7 AM every morning and work HARD to pay the bills. I don't get enough sleep so when I DO drag myself out of bed to get ready for ANOTHER day of drudgery at the office, I have to worry about her majesty being annoyed by a few of my MOUSTACHE HAIRS? Are you kidding me!? While you're SLEEPING in and living the Life of Riley, I'm supposed to do YOUR job and clean the bathroom? Should I do the laundry before I leave too? I can do that if I wake up at FOUR AM...is that what you want? Do you want me to wake up THREE HOURS early and do the laundry for you while you lay around in bed? Should I do that?

SHE: Never mind. I must have been insane. You're right, I'm an ungrateful wench. I'll use the other bathroom when I have morning sickness from now on.

HE: See that you do.

A wise women sees that tact for what it is, a method used by one person to verbally gag another person. Unfortunately...too many walk away feeling like they DID do something wrong after a barrage like that.

My ex was GREAT at that game. I only fell for it because I loved him. I don't like other people enough to deal with such BS so I pretty much take a hike when I notice it. THAT'S what makes dating a chore. Sigh.

:)

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Saturday, August 08, 2009

Keep in mind that these are only ALLEGATIONS...Davis is presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Now I must gargle with Listerine.

This is just a quick post...

...to bring you up to date on Donessa T. Davis. I've just read a few more details of his most recent hijinx. In the past week he has been arrested on child abuse allegations, jailed, owned by (at last count) four women and people have said that we should all feel badly for this victim of a "sexual assault". Well, pardon me for sniggering, even relishing, in one man's torment but if ever there was a man whose torment was well earned, Donessa T. Davis Sr. is that man.

By the way, to those who ask, "Would you still feel the same way if someone had super glued a woman's labia together?"...yeah. If she was the same reprobate ne'er-do-well that Davis is, I sure would say the same thing. Furthermore, even if I disagreed with the super glue thing, I certainly wouldn't waste my pity or my time defending THAT type of cretin. There are far too many decent people who could use attention.

I believe that most other men realize that this is NOT a cause to roll out coat sleeves over. "Nessa" is a bully of the worst type. He brutalizes women and children with equal glee and verve.

He is...stuck in the middle with glue.

This despicable piece of fish turd (pond scum is too good for him) gave his 8 year old daughter a "swollen eye and a knot on the head" because she answered when her Mommy asked, "Who painted your fingernails?"

Apparently, the little girl's response started this entire mucilaginous saga that promises to get much more interesting as developments occur. If I were CNN, I'd keep one of those satellite trucks right there in that small Wisconsin town...it's cheaper than driving back and forth to Green Bay or Chicago.

Most of us have an 8 year old child in our lives. They're actually pretty special humans, aren't they? Babies so recently, these little people are still as innocent and trusting as any 2 year old. They trust parents and look to them for the security that it takes to live a happy little person's life. Without it, kids worry about things they shouldn't worry about. And no kid, anywhere, should have to worry that Daddy will smack her on the head over circumstances SO out of her control. This bastard created a wicked straight jacket for himself and then kicked his kid trying to wiggle out of it while deflecting any and all personal responsibility. What a prince.

He's also been charged with domestic violence against women. I suppose it would take another man to understand what a hideous misdeed THAT is. I'm another chick so a bit of that understanding eludes me but I do know that it sucks to be around an angry man...PERIOD. From my father to my ex, I've seen one angry man after another lose control and cause damage to people and to property. I prefer NOT to be around when that happens so I bolt as soon as a man increases his decibels. This guy must have been a terrorist of the nth degree. Localized...yes. But a terrorist nonetheless.

I'll never know if any of the angry men in my life wanted to do away with me...as far as I know they were happy to settle for random violence. Davis not only had a plan to get rid of his estranged wife (after first taking out a life insurance policy on her.) Not only did he have a plan, he was dumb enough to tell one of his mistresses about the plan. Many may wonder why he was THAT reckless. Well I know. He "floated" the idea around one chick to see if she would say, "COOL! I'll pay the premium!" This guy cared enough to snap his wife's neck, but not enough to earn the insurance money necessary for making a snapped neck profitable. He hoped that his cash COW would help him in a diabolical little plot against the wife. Instead, Davis found himself on the dripping end of a tube of Super Glue.

Do I feel badly for him? Not even one tiny bit. Sorry...that's just honesty. I could easily write that I felt really sad about the poor Mr. Davis and his mother who now has to visit him through plate glass. You would never see me laughing as I typed that BS. But, I find that honesty somehow makes all things OK so I try to stick with that. I like to think that I'd have the courage of my convictions and that I would have glued his balls to one leg as my accomplice glued Mr. Happy to the other...but I can't say for sure....too many variables. I'd have probably looked for a way to participate that didn't include incarceration. Barring that, chances are pretty good that I would have sat that caper out.

As most bully's do, this guy tried to manipulate those weaker than he and he didn't stop at regular words. He used threats, intimidation and violence to control those around him. Of course he surrounded himself with women whose self esteem was as low as a pregnant turtle's belly. They, like the 8 year old girl, were putty in his hands. His control over his minions was robust and unyielding.

But now he sleeps in the midst of some less pliable persons. I'm pretty sure that the combined charges of child molestation, child abuse and domestic violence will do more to hinder than to help his jailhouse status. His pod mates won't be high fiving his stupid ass. The super glued pecker thing is only going to force Davis to work very hard to win friends and influence people in jail. Think about it...he probably STILL has some dried up stuff on his willy and you know he's constantly trying to pick that stuff off. I wouldn't shake hands with him if I were in Wisconsin...he doesn't strike me as a "Wash your hands after touching your own lint trap." sort of guy.


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Friday, August 07, 2009

I want a Dyson Ball...

...and I want it badly. If any of you have a spare Dyson Ball cluttering things up...let me know. I'll take it off your hands. Seriously.

:)



Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

2 Comments:

Anonymous Wendy in Houston said...

This post has me confused. Do you want the whole vacuum or just the ball out of it? :)

August 07, 2009  
Blogger Meg Kelso said...

LOLOL...the whole thing. It's called the Dyson Ball.

:)

August 07, 2009  

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Are you KIDDING me???

I just heard Lanny Davis proudly declare that he wants to see medical insurance MANDATORY..."like car insurance". I'm a not a car and these people frighten me.

So, not only must we, our grandchildren AND their children pay for this sweeping reorganization, not of health care, but of government...we will also be mandated to participate if some people get their way.

When I think of public health care, I think of walk-in clinics and free immunizations. I don't think of prosecutions for appendicitis while uninsured. Why on earth are these yahoos so gung ho over this health care thing? They keep trying to find a demon and can't seem to get a handle on one of them. But...if they keep trying, and they will, they'll eventually demonize citizens whether or not they smoke cigarettes.

You can take some interesting tid-bits away from the trial balloons that government floats out there. Apparently, taking an oath to a public office makes one automatically incapable of common sense. People who WE elected into office sat in a room and said, "Soda pop! We can tax soda pop!" Someone must have had a slight clue because they didn't run with it that day. They floated it to the media and were quickly sorry that they had. The response was very quick and very definitive...no Mr. Pibb tax.

The government never responds to questions asked unless they have something to gain by answering. It's not good enough that the question do no harm before they'll answer it because, hey, it might do harm tomorrow. So, you have a government who ONLY answers questions that actually help them. You certainly will never get a clear and "concise" answer because that could be inflammatory. Maybe not today, maybe it will only affect their legacy, but why take a chance? Don't hold your breath for an outright apology from the fools on Capitol Hill, but you might get some meaningless diatribe using words that they honestly believe will just breeze over the heads of Americans. And, in far too many cases, they will.

But today I was able to interview an elected official who admitted, for the record, that the air on Capitol Hill contains some idiot inducing chemical, the effects of which take a while to appear. I'll let the Senator tell you in his own words:

ME: Senator, tell me, when did you realize that you had been affected by Agent Nit Wit?

DEEP CHOAD: Well, my wife says I've never been the same since my second term and things have gotten worse since then.

ME: Your SECOND term? Isn't that when you had the mistress in LA who you STILL meet at the Beverly Hilton?

DEEP CHOAD: Well, yeah, but that's not what I want to talk about today...I wasn't briefed on that so I'm unprepared. I'm here to warn people before Agent Nit Wit begins to spread outside of the beltway.

ME: Well, we DO have more than our fair share of nit wits out here.

DEEP CHOAD: Of course you do, and I'm not trying to get into a who's the biggest moron contest again...that's how I came up with the tax on soda-pop.

ME: So, you're saying that these asinine ideas are out of your control?

DEEP CHOAD: Yes. Agent Nit Wit is a progressive disorder and there is only one cure...you MUST leave the area of the chemical and no one here is prepared to do that. We aren't quitters! What we really want is a czar...we need an Agent Nit Wit czar like there's no tomorrow.

ME: Let me see if I heard you correctly...you're saying that there's a chemical on Capitol Hill that affects anyone who inhales it. The Senate, the House and the Supreme Court...are they all sucking Agent Nit Wit as well?

DEEP CHOAD: Oh yeah. Don't forget the White House, it's on a hill so the air there is almost all Agent Nit Wit over there. I understand Truman used to go up to the top of the Washington Memorial to suck the air in. He didn't know why, but he always felt better after a few deep breaths of the stuff. Now they're having midnight staff meetings up there.

ME: OK...this chemical causes you to loose your ability to recognize stupidity, the longer the politician is there and the higher their office, the worse the poisoning...am I interpreting this correctly?

DEEP CHOAD: Yes ma'am.

ME: Tell me more about the day you came up with the Mr. Pibb tax.

DEEP CHOAD: I gotta say, I was SO embarrasses by that idea. But as you mentioned, Agent Nit Wit is a powerful eraser of common sense. I simply couldn't see the stupidity in my idea! I was totally void of logic and sound political reasoning...that's when I decided to speak out in public for others so afflicted and of course for myself, as I am also afflicted. That idea should make it perfectly evident that I need help and the fact that it even got out of the Washington Memorial is proof that I am NOT alone. I get teary eyed when I think about it.

ME: Don't think Senator, you're a man and I understand that you actually CAN think about NOTHING...added to the effects of Agent Nit Wit...you're right, help is needed. Is there any hope, can we ever have a government with the ability to see stupid stuff up close?

DEEP CHOAD: Oh of course! I'm on a committee working to "inoculate" DC against the dreaded Agent Nit Wit chemical...It will only cost a quadrillion dollars!

ME: Inoculate? How will you inoculate the city?

DEEP CHOAD: Oh, we won't. It's just that we really don't know what to do yet. As all politicians are aware, when you don't have a REAL plan, you put a name on it that stupid people will understand. Some lawyer from out of town came up with "inoculate". We get a LOT of help from out-of-towners.

ME: Ah, I see. A Quadrillion bucks? Wouldn't it be cheaper to move the capitol back to Phillie?

DEEP CHOAD: Damn! That's a GREAT idea! Could you write that down for me...I want to discuss it at my next committee meeting!

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Thursday, August 06, 2009

This is fun...

http://www.oldjoeblack.0nyx.com/thinktst.swf

I got 19 right...not bad at all if 7 really is the average but I think you guys are smarter than that...let me know.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

15 here. I didn't think the ones I got wrong were wrong at all but they were.

August 07, 2009  

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He's stuck again!!!
Donessa T. Davis is behind bars today after being arrested for child abuse, theft, unlawful phone use and harassment with a death threat in a domestic abuse investigation. See? THIS is why crooks should never call the cops...no matter how long it takes for a Super Glued schwang to come free of his leg.

We've ALL accidentally glued our fingers together...none of us call an ambulance for that and you needn't call one for a stuck penis...it'll come loose. You won't be doing any serious dancing for a minute...vertical OR horizontal...but your dick will come loose eventually. If the ladies, and I use that term loosely, had glued his hand to his ass, he would have left it there until it came off by itself. But, since it was his "manhood" that was stuck...he just HAD to call 911. This'll teach him.

Now he's REALLY stuck because cops aren't as easy to shake off as is a super glued one eyed wonder worm. Donessa with an "A" will be locked up for SOME period of time and unlike the Super Glue Chicks...this guy will NOT have many admirers in the county lock up. If you MUST go to jail after a gorilla glue incident, it's ALWAYS better to be the gluER than it is to be the gluEE. This guy won't be dealing with your everyday prisoner chortles, chuckles and guffaws...those locked up dudes are going to go into immediate belly laughs and tears as soon as they realize that they are lucky enough to be spending time with the Super Glue Dude himself. I hear some of the guys who were released yesterday are re-offending...in the hopes that they might be one of the lucky prisoners to share a cell with Super Glue Guy.

Jails are pretty much like locker rooms for men taking out of date steroids with little opportunity to accomplish anything at all. Well, they accomplish muscle...but I think that's only because they have to look at each other long past the day that they BEGIN to look good to each other. No man wants to be on either end of a saggy man anal episode so they're pumping all of that iron for later.

OTHER than muscles, all they have are their stories. And...being locked up with the Super Glue Dude is one cool story to tell. Don't forget, they need cool stories...after all, most of them chose a bag of M&M's over deodorant on commissary day. (Heck, if I were in prison I'd take the M&M's, eight days a week.) Anyway, when they tell the story to future cell mates who WILL be there...in the future...probably sooner rather than later...they can't just sit back and describe, second hand, derision inflicted upon the Super Glue Dude by other prisoners...that won't do at all. This is pretty much a "must do" derision moment.

It's not like 8th grade where you could just make fun of the awkward chick with braces...this calls for some serious MAN style derision. If your story does NOT involve one funny line delivered by YOU...then it's best left untold. Being in such a great situation for derogatory creativity is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You MUST have a line ready...even if it's a lame ass line because face it, very few wisecracks actually contain wisdom. The point here is that you took the shot...not whether it landed on target. You can apologize your way out of a stupid one liner well aimed but poorly executed. But...there's no way to explain why you just sat there giggling like a shy girl in a MUST deride situation.

Somewhere today there is a pod of lucky criminals. They all get to tell their own Super Glue Dude story...I hope to hear them some day. But, in the meantime, order some M&M's and funk the place up a bit more. Who are you showering for? A prisoner trying to get clean by taking a shower is like trying to take the gravy off of mashed potatoes...you'll never get them clean again and the peas and meat are covered in the same filth anyway. As I type these words there is a large smelly man in a dietary department of a jail who is stirring some white powder into warm water. Somebody got a tax deduction for donating the moth infested powder to the county jail and tonight it'll be tepid white moth mush for hundreds of inmates.

Yep...the guys who are doing time with Super Glue Dude are witnessing jail house history. Before long Super Glue Dude will be tried and if found guilty, shipped off to some prison where there are men who have no clue that they're about to witness some jail house history soon. Of course, it'll be BIG house history so they better be REALLY good. I'm sure prisons smell a LOT worse than jails. The farts alone would probably cause little mini holes over the prison ozone layer. The prison prisoners have much more to overcome when attempting to redeem themselves in the eyes of their fellow pod mates.

So...what should the rest of us take away from this incident? Well, there are many lessons in this hideous situation but it seems to me that the most important lesson of them all is...NEVER, under ANY circumstances...give a boy a name that ends with an "A". I don't care what Johnny Cash says...that is some messed up shit.

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