Little Bit Of Blog Business

I am going to clean up my link list for the first time since I started this thing. If you are on it and want to remain on it, please let me know. If you'd like your site on my list, send it to me in the comments section and I'll post the link without posting your comment (unless you want me to).

:):):)

Freak Show!!!

If you went to a carnival and they had a freak show, you might pay a dime to see the fat lady, the little people or a two-headed girl. Political correctness doesn't allow carnival freak shows anymore...we are too sophisticated for that...we realize the cruelty of putting humans on display for the entertainment of others.

Right?

Why can I turn on a cable channel and see the "freaks" now? We may not be as sophisticated as we thought we were.

When I Was Young I Was A Hoot

This morning I woke up with a hideous backache. I took some aspirin and grabbed a tube of Ben-Gay...like any good grandmother would. My grandmother always had a tube of that stuff lying around and when my ex and I were staying at her place for a few weeks, I found a new use for it.

My ex and I were very young, maybe 20 or 21. I was pregnant and he was too young to be married. Anyway, one night he went out and didn't come back until I had waited and waited for him, worried to tears. When he walked in, I was livid. But, I hid that from him because I had a plan.

When a man has done something that stupid, he will do anything to avoid a fight. Naturally, mine had come home willing to kiss my ass. But, an ass kissing is not what I wanted.

I pretended to be all lovey-dovey and no matter where he had been or what he had done, he wanted to avoid a fight so he was all too pleased to have sex and go to sleep. He was even into it a bit...and full of smiles. I saw his smile and  decided that I didn't want to see it anymore. I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a handful of "lubrication". My ex smiled just a tad more...for about 4 seconds.

Penis in hand (and burning atrociously, I would think), he ran to the shower immediately...giving me time to escape to parts of the house that were not far from my grandparents room. Hot penis didn't want to smile at them right then so he  stayed in the bedroom after dousing his penis in a flow of shower water.

It didn't stop him from doing what he wanted to do, but he did develop a whole new respect for angry pregnant women. It still makes me smile.

Political Waffling At it's Most Salient

Before yesterday's  election, this was Romney's affect:

"Vote for meeeee! I should be the most powerful man on the planet...ME! ME! ME! I am the BEST choice you have! NO one is better than I! Vote for MEEEEEE! I was in charge of the ENTIRE Commonwealth of Massachusetts! They voted for ME! You should put meeee in charge! Yes, I CAN!"

What did he says after he clinched the nomination?

"I am humbled."

It's actually sort of spooky

Saturday, I went to get a tie-died dress that I had seen earlier. Afterwards, I walked to the car with my bag in hand. As I got in the car, the guy I was with said, "I have to take these lures back and exchange them. I'll be right back."

I said, "OK." and I got in the car. While I was in the car, I went to play the Foreigner CD I had just gotten but when I grabbed it out of the bag and checked in the case, there was no CD in it. I didn't want the dude I was with to start accusing me of stealing it immediately (as he later did). (Remember, life with a psycho is lived in two minute increments. I was avoiding a huge hassle.) I tossed the bag back in the back seat and grudgingly continued listening to Paper Lace sing 'Billy Don't Be a Hero'. The dude came back and we went home.

My slip on sandals were on the floor and I was sitting Indian style in the front seat during the ride back. I put my feet down so that I could slip them into my shoes and, oddly, I couldn't find my left shoe. It was not there. I had to search a car that barely comes up to the tops of my legs...and I had to do it in the Florida sun. To my complete and utter befuddlement, my shoe was gone.

The missing shoe evoked an odd conversation:

HE: "How did you lose your shoe?"

SHE: "Really? Do you really expect an answer?"

HE: "I just don't know how you can lose a shoe."

SHE: "That's perplexing...isn't it?"

HE: "All I know is that when I was there, you didn't take your shoe out of the car. "I'm going to look for your shoe."

SHE: "Where are you going to look?

HE: "Back in the only place you were in the car without me, to the parking lot of the store. Whatever happened to the shoe happened there."

SHE: "Yeah...where, apparently, I accidentally tossed my shoe out the window."

The missing shoe has not been found and I am totally baffled. Go figure. I think it must have something to do with the Foreigner CD. After this scene, I lied about the CD and acted like I never knew the disc was missing in the first place. The missing shoe is just one huge chunk of esoteric karma because I lied whilst my soul is aware of the associated evils. I usually NEVER lie. I broke one of my own basic and easy to follow tenets. Maybe I should just be honest and see if I get my shoe back

IF DEAR ABBY WAS A BITCH...

DEAR ABBY: Because many women have stopped wearing pantyhose or stockings when they go out on a dinner date or formal function, would it be a fair turnaround for me to put on a three-piece suit and tie and not wear any socks? I'd appreciate your thoughts, please. -- SOCKLESS IN MICHIGAN 

ABBY SAYS: DEAR SOCKLESS: Women who forgo pantyhose or stockings in hot weather usually do it because they're wearing strappy sandals or open-toed summer footwear. Hosiery doesn't look right with them. I have seen men -- at least on the West Coast -- wear T-shirts under their sport coats and go barefoot in their loafers. But I have never seen a man don a three-piece suit and tie and go sockless. (And I never hope to.) I don't recommend it.

I SAY: Let the nitwit wear socks with his tux, I don't want to be ignorant of his freak status long enough to actually MEET him. Also, the dudes who wear argyles with a Hawaiian shirt and lavender shorts need company.

DEAR ABBY: I am being married in two months, but my question isn't about weddings. My question is, how can a woman ensure a lasting marriage? -- ABOUT TO BECOME A MRS.

ABBY SAYS: DEAR ABOUT TO BECOME A MRS.: At a women's networking event years ago, my mother was asked that question. She replied, "One good rule is never go to bed angry." (I agree.)

Phyllis Diller was there and topped her. "Right!" she said. "Stay up and fight until you're exhausted. You'll sleep better!"

I SAY: Any hillbilly can achieve "a lasting marriage". The trick is to achieve an equitable orgasm tally during it.

DEAR ABBY: My daughter recently became engaged to a wonderful young man. I have looked forward to planning her wedding for years. She always said she wanted to be married in our hometown, but now she says they want to get married near where he lives, which is four hours from where I live.

I feel she has been persuaded to do this. I'm paying for the wedding and work full-time, and I'm really stressing about planning the dream wedding she wants from far away. Weddings are usually in the bride's hometown for obvious reasons, but I'm concerned her mind was changed by his family for their convenience. What do I do? -- JUST THE BRIDE'S MOM

ABBY SAYS: DEAR JUST: Have a frank talk with your daughter and ask why she changed her mind. Tell her that you have dreamed of planning her wedding for years, but the change of venue is causing stress for you.

Then ask if she would prefer you just give her a check for the amount you can afford, and whether it would be more practical for her to do the planning herself.

I SAY: If your kid can be persuaded THAT easily, perhaps you should ask yourself why. Have you always been a control freak? Maybe your daughter decided this on her own...specifically to stay away from people who "have looked forward to planning her wedding". Heck...maybe she lost a coin toss. BTW...just what ARE the "obvious reasons" that weddings are held in the brides hometown?

IF DEAR ABBY WAS A BITCH...

DEAR ABBY: I have been dating a wonderful man for two years. We're talking about marriage, but there is a problem. He has his ex's name tattooed on his backside and it's starting to bother me. I offered to pay to have it removed, but he doesn't want it off. Do I stay with him and try to get over it, or break up with him and find someone else? Help me! -- REALLY CONFUSED GIRL IN COLORADO


AND ABBY SAID...


DEAR REALLY CONFUSED: Removing a tattoo can be expensive, time-consuming and painful. If the only deal-breaker in your relationship is the tattoo, consider asking him to turn the other cheek and have your name placed opposite his ex's so you will have equal billing. A large "X" could be inked over the ex's name if it would make you feel better.




I SAY...


Confused chick: First of all, only psychos ask other people to have their own names tattooed ANYWHERE on a body. Asking a man to tat your name on his ass is more than creepy. And if you tell him to tattoo a huge X over other tats, you deserve to have him tattoo you out of his life. 


Secondly, how old are you...14? It's only ink, you immature bat case. Leave it alone, that guy only knows the name is there when YOU bring it up or HE checks out his OWN naked ass. Keep it up if you'd like, but you should know that there are women who are too secure to be bothered by an old ass tat. Most men like that type of security in a woman.


DEAR ABBY: There is a segment of the population that I have not seen you address. It's the many women whose dreams of marriage and children never came true.

Society gives so much attention to women who are pregnant and have children. It is very difficult for us to hear people brag on and on about their children and pass around their pictures.

People need to develop sensitivity for those like me, who prayed 25 years for marriage and children, but who didn't get this "gift from God." -- ALONE IN THE NORTHWEST

AND ABBY SAID...

DEAR ALONE: Parents bragging about their children and showing off pictures are natural reactions to having offspring. It is not meant to punish the childless.

There are thousands of children who desperately need the attention and affection you long to bestow, so please consider becoming an adoptive or foster parent, or volunteer with an organization such as Big Brothers/Big Sisters of America. The website is www.bbbs.org. Join the ranks and you, too, can experience the joys of rearing children and bragging as you show off your pictures.

I SAY...

Perhaps your bitterness is standing in your way.

DEAR ABBY: The letters that have appeared in your column about safe driving prompt this one. I hope you will consider my experience worth sharing.
I have poor depth perception. I make adjustments for this problem and check the distance between me and the car in front of me by looking at the distance on the road and not at the car.
I began to notice that the cars coming at me were "fuzzy" and that I had to close one eye to have a clear image of them. Then I realized I was doing the same thing while watching television. I mentioned it to my optometrist, and she checked my eyes and found that I had double vision. The adjustment to my prescription was so slight that you would not notice it, but I can now see clearly with my new glasses. -- CLEARLY FOCUSED IN MINNESOTA

AND ABBY SAID...

DEAR CLEARLY FOCUSED: Your letter was an eye-opener. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to remind readers to have their vision checked every year -- and to report any changes in vision to the doctor immediately.

I SAY...

Really? You had vision problems and then you went to an eye doctor who gave you glasses that fixed the vision problems? Let me know when a podiatrist cures your ingrown toenail.

Sometimes the headline says it all.

I was reading the headlines on a website as I browsed through the morning news. I think what passes for news nowadays is an abomination. Alligators in toilets and house swallowing sink holes are about all I ever see locally so I go to the national sites for news in the morning. I'd like to thank the headline writers because they were so succinct I didn't have to venture further. The headlines told me all I wanted to know.

Boy survives after foul ball hits chest, stops heart 

That tells me that everything even semi interesting is over, someone was there to help the kid...and all is well. Not one of mine, not worth my time. Yeah...I know, I've been aware of my mean and nasty status ever since my son told me when he was 3. With a totally disgusted look in his eyes, he looked straight at me and said, "YOU...are a mean and NASTY lady!"

Vegas spending scandal costs GSA official his job

OK. That headline also says it all. I don't know the guy but I can picture a Vegas-style spending scandal. It's preferable to picturing Secret Service agents in Columbia.


NYC public school makes learning Arabic mandatory

This headline alone tells me enough to make me feel really, really peeved, pestered and provoked. I don't even WANT to read the stupid reasons for this that make no sense at all, but will, nevertheless, be blindly and unquestioning accepted by many citizens. Logic and critical thinking are becoming relics of a more open-minded and enlightened past. After these yahoos vote, I picture them skipping away from the polling place saying, "Th...th...th...that's all folks!"


Jury in Edwards trial reviewing all evidence

So...now I know that absolutely NOTHING has happened. But it is a relief to know that the jury will be reviewing evidence at some point. I was worried earlier.

Hurricane Bud weakens to Category 2 storm

Another non-story. They should just say, "Storm that affects no one on this planet is less of an issue today than it was yesterday."

So...basically, I just read a few headlines and then I came here after I became annoyed so that I could tell you how stupid I think stuff is. It's my way of asking you to smell spoiled milk from my esoteric fridge after I do.

Cheryl Selesky is an idiot.

Ms. Selesky is one of those nit wits who is always right, no matter who may be harmed while she's being right. And the scary thing is, she works with children.

When I was a kid I suffered from really bad  headaches. When I had one in school, I would go to the nurse who would give me an aspirin and let me lie down for a while until the headache abated. Nurses can't do that anymore unless they have a signed note from a parent. So now, the school CAN'T give you an aspirin, but they CAN give you birth control without notifying parents. OK. I can adjust, after all, my kids are all out of school.

But when a young man suffered an asthma attack...AFTER having his belongings searched a la the USSR he came close to death from an asthma attack. During the search, the searchers found his asthma medicine. Unfortunately, he was going into an asthma attack and he asked if he could have a puff of  his rescue inhaler. Not only was he denied his medicine, he was also left to wheeze until he turned blue without anyone calling 911. Inability to breathe is one of the most frightening things a human being can experience but the young man was allowed to suffer in a most inhumane way.

As a nurse, I understand that you need a doctor's order before you give someone any medicine. But, if a patient were to be in a life threatening situation, I think most people would cut you some slack if you saved the patient's life. But if there was no way to do that, I would certainly call for a rapid response team or some such potentially helpful person or persons.

All the school here did was call the mother who said she HAD sent the proper paperwork but the school couldn't find it. So, Michael Rudi's mother went to the school only to find her son blue and collapsed behind a closed door.

I could almost tolerate this if the school idiots had shown any type of concern or regret over the situation but Cheryl Selesky chose another path. She put all of the blame on the mother. I don't know if the mother  really did fill out the paperwork, but I do know that it doesn't take a medical genius to know that a blue kid needs emergency medical care.

Michael is 17 years old, months away from a time when he will be able to fight for his country. Next year he can walk around with a gun if he wants to...but this year he can't be trusted to save his own life. And they didn't even give him a bag of condoms after his collapse.

BD...

Hi.

Yeah...he's hot!

In addition to being elected Most Likely To Be Force-ably Showered...this man is about as stupid as a man can be.

I've done some dumb things in my life but the dumbest thing I've ever done (besides marrying Mr. Kelso)
was to drive after drinking. I would never do that again, under any circumstances. This dude has no such qualms about driving drunk...and doing so with a zebra and a parrot in his front seat. Talk about conspicuous.

Driving around drunk with exotic animals in your car is as stupid as drug dealers standing on the corners with boom boxes blasting Fuck The Police while rocking a 70's pimp tuxedo and a fedora with a large purple plume.

HELPFUL ESOTERIC HINT: If you are a bad pitcher, you probably shouldn't use a paisley mitt.

I don't even have enough heart pills to make this pain stop.

I Love Blue...But

Why are so many things turning unnatural colors? Why would someone want to drink blue soda? I wondered when my step-son wanted blue Kool-aid. Now I realize, it could only make you look like you're not getting enough oxygen. 

And, OMG!, why? I wouldn't rub blue on me...ever.

And this is just stupid. Why the hell did we need blue ketchup? What's next, brown toilet paper?

Of course, blue isn't necessarily bad, if it is a naturally occurring drink such as that contained in the pretty picture above. It reminds me of a night  when I wanted to "sample" all 5 different blue drinks in one outting. Oh, I was a hoot.

Repost by request. Unfortunately, it's always a timely message.

I tried to take a baby picture of Rihanna and add her current injuries but I'm no good at that so this is the best that I can come up with. It's Rihanna if Chris had done the same thing to her as an infant:



Of course, there are plenty of pictures of abused girls. I imagine their stories would horrify Rihanna just like her story horrifies us. Rihanna would be acrimonious to see these kids but she doesn't realize that she is one of them, just bit older. The abuser is still there to overpower her, manipulate her and pound on her face.

Rihanna, look for the similarities, not the differences!

OPERATION BLOWJOB: REWRITE FROM LAST ELECTION

If I worked at a drug store and Monica Lewinsky walked up to the counter with a box of tampons, I wouldn't be able to help myself…I would look her right in the eye and with a deadpan face, I’d say, “You do know where these go, don’t you honey? They’re NOT cigars.”

It must be a rather odd feeling to know that you’ll go down in history for such a relationship with the president. Or do you think future generations will see her differently?

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce a woman belonging to a very elite group of heroic American women who have made our great nation a better place for us all, Betsy Ross, Harriet Tubman, Eleanor Roosevelt, Monica Lewinsky and Georgetta W. Bush…”

Wouldn’t it be a bitch if we were to find out that blowing a president is the ONE way to get them to do a good job? I think we should have Michelle take that one eyed wonder worm of her husband’s…and make it truly the most powerful penis in the world. Then, if the economy goes up, gas prices go down and Bill O’Reilly has nothing to bitch about anymore…we’ll know it works.

If it doesn’t do a thing, my scientific mind says that we should let Monica try it before we trash the idea completely. After all, she could be the common denominator. We could create a new cabinet, not a cabinet position, but an actual cabinet…one where the president will go every morning after a couple cups of coffee to receive his presidential blow job. Then, he just steps out, buckles his belt and straightens his tie. That’s it. Now he’s ready to make important decisions with a much, much more pleasant demeanor.

Monica would be the perfect person for the job, after all, she spent a lot of time under the presidential desk. We could do better than that with the presidential blow job cabinet. We could even put up mirrors. Well, I guess we’d have to see what Monica looks like on her knees. It might NOT be something the president would want to see.

Maybe we could just put up some nude pictures…Obama could get some nice shots of Haley Berry, Lisa Bonet and Alicia Keys. If Romney wins, he could just put up pictures of mega-rich widows. Whatever floats the presidential boat.

If Operation Blow job works for 3 presidents in a row, we should stick it in the constitution. (I'd love to be in the audience for THAT debate...who would oppose such a bill?) Yep, it might sound crazy, but nothing they’ve done so far has worked. And with the 2 yahoos we have running for president, I don’t see any hope for the future. But, I do have a message for the wives of the presidential hopefuls:

To the merry wives of DC:

BLOW YOUR MEN.

We might just have to send in Monica so for your own good, as well as the good of the entire planet, go down on your men TONIGHT! And remember this, if his dick is in YOUR mouth…it can’t possibly be in ANYONE ELSE'S.

Sincerely,

Meg 

I’m sure it’ll work because I’ve been paying attention. I KNOW BJ Billy’s dick wasn’t in HIS wife’s mouth. She has too much to say and it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full. And then, during the last primary election…I submit that a solid pussy eating every night would have clinched the bid for the Hill-dog. Tell me I’m wrong.

Think about it…don’t you feel better after oral sex? I know it puts a lighter step in my feet the next day.

On the other hand, when I haven’t had ANY sex, I’m pretty much looking for a fight. I’m irritable, cranky and nothing at all like my sweet self. The longer I go without makes me exponentially bitchier.

So, the presidential blowjob is an absolutely valid proposal. If every person out there had oral sex tonight, they would all be a bit happier tomorrow. Oral sex could be like the proverbial pebble on the pond. Your pleasant nature would change things that you would never consider and because of those changes, as in the Butterfly Effect, great things would begin to happen all over the world. You could very well be responsible for saving the planet. All because you did something that you wanted to do anyway.

Now, once you see that I’m right, I want you to write a letter to your congressmen, senators and yes, even the president. Tell them ALL about Operation Blowjob. Appeal to their sexual/politcal ego…tell them that they could lead America to the Gold…we could finally overtake France as the greatest lovers of the world!

They would really be into that idea. I think I’m going to become a lobbyist for my cause. The only problem is that I can’t afford the trip to the lobby. So, if you believe in Operation Blowjob, let me know. I will tell you how you can be a part of saving the future of our civilization in a way that doesn’t endanger the planet, intrude on the rights of any other country nor does it affect manatees one way or another. (Of course, happy people tend to be more philanthropic so it might even HELP the manatees!)

With any money left over after my trip to Washington, I will start a school that will teach attractive young ladies the ancient art of cock sucking. Just imagine a world full of women who can do MUCH more than suck on the head of your penis and call that a blowjob.

This is just one more reason of many that I should be president.

Oh, by the way, as president I would put Johnny Depp, Jude Law and John Goodman in my cabinet. Yes...at the same time.

This Is One Of Those Days...

..when I would enjoy having a sweet glass of wine or a tasty highball. It would be nice, but I do hate a hangover. Feeling like death warmed over isn't as appealing to a person as they, themselves, get closer to death. It's just plum not worth it the next day. I do have fun when I drink, I guess that's why I used to do it so much. I only think about drinking when I'm feeling festive, not when I'm feeling down. The problem is that feeling festive gets me in a lot of trouble. My festivity seems to encourage me to say, "What the hell...l'chaim!!!" My festivity sings that old Grass Roots song 'Live For Today' to me and I just can't resist 60's music. There's little I enjoy more than driving down the highway listening to great 60's stuff in a particularly nice automobile.

The automobile I have access to right now doesn't qualify. The owner calls it a real "classic", whatever that means. I didn't know there was an official granting of that status...what exactly is a classic? Well, one mans classic is another man's old piece of shit that just doesn't know enough to fall apart yet. This dude allegedly sunk 3,200 bucks into the "engine". His logic tells him that he should get that back PLUS the value of the car. Apparently he thinks putting a good engine into an old car suddenly makes it something more valuable than the car would be if it had an old engine that  ran. The car has suddenly become car-PLUS. The value of the car in TOP condition was around $1,500 but dude thinks he should get $6,500.

He also thinks he's gonna get 4 grand for a trade-in on a decent new car. Whatever. I don't know how some people can exist in society for so long with so little perception of how things work.

Anyway, I'm rarely festive but I am bordering on festive right now. I feel the festivity inside of me but I can handle this. I have a fork full of peanut butter in front of me. I know I should have a spoon but I was in a hurry and grabbed the only utensil in the dish-rack which was a fork. OK then, I'm off to eat my peanut butter.

It's Interesting...

...that you can ask a guy for certain things but not for others. I can accept a dozen roses that cost a hundred bucks, but I couldn't ask a guy to pay even one of my bills. I can't be on a date and say, "Would you take me to  get some Biore Strips?"...but I can say, "Would you buy me a couple of lottery tickets?" to a guy as he goes to pay for gas. I did just that yesterday.

You know how you look at your numbers and say, "Those are good numbers?" As though any one number has a better chance of popping up. Well, yesterday I looked at my numbers and said, "Oh...these numbers suck." That's because they were 21, 22, 23, 24, 27 and one other lonely number which will probably be the only one that I get right tonight.

Now, by chance, I'm watching that Nicolas Cage movie, 'It Could Happen To You'.

Ya think?

OUCH!!!

Yesterday I put my back out when I walked into the kitchen. I'm not having  a good time in this chair so I'm gonna hobble back to my couch and I'll try again after narcotics.

:)

But...let me leave you with this story I found in my inbox:

Why Men Wear An Earring

 

Did you ever wonder why earrings became so popular with men?

A man is at work one day when he notices that his co-worker is wearing an earring.

The man knows his co-worker to be a normally conservative fellow, and is curious about his sudden change in "fashion sense"

The man walks up to him and says, "I didn't know you were into earrings."

"Don't make such a big deal, it's only an earring," he replies sheepishly.

His friend falls silent for a few minutes, but then his curiosity prods him to ask, "So, how long have you been wearing  one?"

"Ever since my wife found it in my truck."

<-----what the hell does that mean?

Something On The News Should Be New

I know I'm used to living in or near large cities, hell, I was born in the shadow of the Empire State Building. I grew up outside of Chicago and I've lived near San Francisco and in Los Angeles. By the time I got to Atlanta, I considered that a relatively small city. But, never, ever have I lived in a place like Tampa.

It's too big to be compared to Roanoke Virginia (the smallest town I've lived in) but too small to be a real city. Tampa is large enough to have it's own news programming but I'm not really sure why.

The news here starts with basic gossip like any other news show. The problem is, there really isn't any news here. Oddly enough, they seem to like to report on holes here and unfortunately, they have a bunch of them. Sinkholes open up weekly and eat bushes, cars and the occasional house. I don't know why, but the news vans here seem to swarm to the newest hole to get a good shot of it as it eats whatever it's eating. After the hole story, they may discuss the upcoming GOP Convention, but even that isn't really news.

Then, they discuss the weather. In Tampa, the only unknown is whether or not it will rain. It rarely does so  there really isn't much to talk about. Of  course, you can always take bets on whether or not the temperature will be 2 degrees below 90 or two degrees above 90. The 5 day forecast looks something like this:

Monday 90, Tuesday 90, Wednesday 89, Thursday 90, Friday 91.

There's nothing new about 90 degree weather here in Tampa.

Of course they mention the traffic, but seriously, why bother? In the worst  traffic jam here, you might have to wait two red light cycles before you can go.

Then, of course, they have sports. Or, they think they do. They do have some major league teams here but they're too politically correct to call them but their real names. They have an MLB team here that was named the Devil Rays. But, some Christians whined about having a Satanic name so now they just call them Rays. How stupid is that? That's like white people bitching about Chicago's south-siders and then Chicago having a team called The Sox. How stupid would THAT be? Call the newest team shoes and you'd hear how  stupid that sounds. I can't take a team seriously if they have to change their  name...it annoys me every time I hear the word Ray. Not that I would care much anyway, I am, and always have been, a Cubs fan. Any team who can't fight an idea shouldn't be in the big league.

The anchors are rather chatty and pleasant, but  I hate chatty people, no matter how pleasant they are.

So, when the news is on in the morning, I just watch The Crocodile Hunter. I don't know why that guy lived as long as he did. He must have hated the news too and I imagine Australia can have some boring stuff as well.

To my buddy from Texas...

...could you email me at

megkelsobroderick@gmail.com

I have something to tell you. Don't get too excited, it isn't really juicy, I just have to tell someone.

:)

Beverly Perdue is a Jack Ass

Governor Beverly Perdue of North Carolina is not going to be elected again. That's because she just chastised her own state for voting their own consciences regarding gay marriage.

How do you do that? How do you say to people, "You are wrong and I am going to look good by telling you how wrong you are."

You don't have to agree with people, you simply shake hands and walk away agreeing to disagree.

Wouldn't it be nice if our leaders would lead with the notion that Americans are a diverse people with the freedom of expression? It's one thing to be against gay marriage, it's something completely different when someone is against the idea that Americans are allowed the freedom of their own consciences. The latter is a far more onerous danger to gay people...and anyone else who might be considered out of the mainstream.

A Day at the Beach!

I'm about to leave for the beach and I wanted to stop by and say HI! before I left. With any luck at all, I'll go to my favorite beach around here, Madeira Beach. That's one of the numerous beaches south of Clearwater Beach. Clearwater is a bit closer so if I'm not as lucky, that's where we'll go.

Clearwater is a beautiful beach so I don't mind going there but the beaches south of it have a fraction of the people so that's where I  want to go. If the guy who's taking me is having an "I want her to be happy." sort of day, we'll go where I want to go. He likes the funky beaches north of Clearwater but I don't because those beaches are smaller and covered with seaweed. If he's having a selfish day, that's where we'll be.

OH! He just got here, let me ask...

No...he's a prick sort of mood, we're going to the beach I hate. What a jack ass. I'll be back to say bad shit about him later...I promise...well, God willing I will!

Ciao!

OK...I'm back. I thought about something while I  was roasting...I didn't mean to imply that the dude was being prickish because he  didn't want to go to the beach I wanted to go to, he didn't want to go to the beach I wanted to go to AND he was acting prickishly.

My Irish self is a bit red so I'm going to take some aspirin and lie down...but, as I said before, I'll be back!

Thank god for doctors...NOT

Doctors...

...probably male doctors, are working on a cream that can be rubbed onto the penis to achieve erection. (LOLOL, that's a helluvan achievement, isn't it?) At some point the drug will have to be tested and that means that a bunch of men will either rub the cream on their own wangs or some chick will do it for them.

After applying the ointment in a rapid up and down fashion, cuccess ensues. I don't know what constitutes success...I don't know and I really don't care. I am SO sick of the importance that society places on sex and of all the new an improved ways to "enjoy sex. I could wax philosophical on you but I choose to use wax you with humor because that's the way I roll.

Americans have been having sex earlier and earlier for as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager, most of us chose to listen to the warnings of our parents, "If you ever get pregnant, don't come home."

Add to early onset sex the social permission we have to hump multiple partners and we've had a LOT of extra sex going on around here lately. It's really no wonder we run out of sex juice early, we're using it all up before we're 50. (Luckily for me, at 51 I seem to have maintained some extra sex juice. I think it's leftover from my last marriage.)

And honestly, for all the talk about it, sex isn't the be-all end-all in life. Personally I would rather get a pedicure. So why is everyone doing all this penis rubbing and little blue pill popping? I don't know. They should invest their time and money in a sailboat. I'd sail away with a dude who had one of them...with or without the sex accoutrement's.

And then women...what are you doing to your boobs? Have you ever SEEN an 80 year old woman with implants? I have and let me tell you...it is NOT a pretty sight. The implants may remain in place, but the real boobs go on some crazy gravity induced escaped and when you're flat on your back, the nipples are somewhere under your arms. They don't have a blue pill yet that will explain the social obligations of a man who encounters 4 boobs...on one woman, but Lindsay Lohan is NOT involved.

I suppose you could look at the bright side, the dude can suck your nipples and rub the big round things at the same time. If you could do something like that for him, he might not need the ointment.

Do you realize that we have men wielding plumbing long since out of warranty on women hawking parts decommissioned years ago? Old people sex just CAN...NOT...BE...THAT...GOOD.

It almost sounds like heaven for the decrepit old men, doesn't it? But there is one huge problem stemming from all of this squeaky old people sex...a local gynecologist reported that she treated "more cases of herpes and human papillomavirus at one particular retirement village than she did when she worked in Miami." These people made it through WWII, Korea, Viet Nam, the entire Sexual Revolution, cheating on their spouses and God knows what else. For the better part of a century, these folks avoided the clap and yet they can't survive widowhood unscathed by any odd lesions, infections or small crawly things. Thank God their parents aren't around to see what they've done.

And shame, shame on those old women! "Whatever you know about 20-year-olds, it's the same with seniors," said Roselyn Shelley, a resident of The Villages Retirement Community. You would think that women would have gotten over any self esteem issues before they turned 70. I don't know why they would service a bunch of cheap old men. At the very least, I would charge the guy a bunch of cash to make it worth my while.

And of course, where there are women and black-market drugs available, you can expect violence. Local cops do their best to keep the neighborhood safe, but according to Lt. Davis, it's no picnic. "You see two 70-year-olds with canes fighting over a woman and you think, 'Oh, jeez.'"

Important Dating Tip For Women Of All Ages: Women, listen to me, if you do ABSOLUTELY nothing else, get the guy to pick something up at the store for you on their way over to your house. There's no better time to get a man to pull his wallet out of his pocket. Trust me on that one.

Oh yeah...beware of men who come to you with a tube of anything. It's NEVER a good sign. Either you rub it on him or he plans on being very lazy in the foreplay department. So when it comes to ointments and sex...just say no.

I Can Do That!

Today's news announced another one of those stupid studies that found that waitresses who wore red lipstick "earned" more tips than those who did not. And all this time I was tipping the servers who did a good job. I didn't even notice their make-up. My bad.

I assume the servers in question were women so that makes me wonder, what does a server dude have to do to get bigger tips? I guess we should ask John Travolta.

Next news story...Romney was a bully? What a rotten time in our social history for an ex-bully to be running for President.

OK...and now for something completely different:

""The Donald," host of the hit television show The Apprentice, also admits to having "borderline" obsessive-compulsive disorder that causes him to fear germs. He reports that he will not shake hands with people, especially teachers, whom he says have "17,000 germs per square inch on their desks."

His phobia also prevents him from touching the ground floor button on elevators."

I appeal to the entire planet's population to be sure to lick your fingers and touch the buttons above ground level and do it for Trump. 


In closing, I didn't know that some relative of a murder victim could "forgive" a killer and let him go free. A drunk driver was set free because the wife of the man he killed wanted to "feel better about herself". I don't give a shit what he self-esteem issues are, that bitch will be responsible if the drunk kills another person. The reporters called it "an amazing display of kindness". I call it a despicable display of stupidity and an absolute disgrace to the judicial system. 


Does anyone out there think this lady has the right to see to it that this man goes free? If she does, do people less "compassionate" than she get to INCREASE a punishment to a higher level?

I Should Have known Better

Thirty years ago, I took two semesters of sociology from a really, really good instructor. I learned a lot in his class and I have even managed to retain a lot of it. The guy made it so interesting that I enjoyed listening to him. Anyway, we read a book by Pitirim Sorokin that discussed different societies in the history of mankind. In his social cycle theory he pointed out that before a civilization falls, it somehow becomes an extremely efficient entity...so much so that people have time for a "pleasing of the senses." Before then, they had to be creative, hard working and organized to survive. Once they spend more time pleasing the senses, standards begin to lower bit by bit. Then, you have such pesky events as the Fall of the Roman Empire.

Anyway, I was just watching the news and they mentioned Obama's new stance on gay marriage. I really wouldn't march in that parade so I didn't want to get into a "thing" over it...I don't particularly care what Obama thinks of moral issues, he answers to his own God, and I to mine. It's all good.

In case you care what my opinion is, it is this...I think marriage by the state is a totally separate affair from marriage by a church. A church should be free to have it's own religious views, whatever they may  be. A government should offer the same rights, privileges and opportunities to any American who keeps his end of the deal. That's where my part of the conversation ends because nobody agrees with me. Most people feel too strongly one way or another which is perfectly fine. May God, Allah, Apollo and Athena bless them all and keep them strong.

So, the news about Obama is on and suddenly, I am assaulted by a barrage of insults toward Obama, gays and liberals in general. It was so bad that I felt defensive of my President and fellow citizens.

Being the diplomat that I am, I quickly geared the "conversation" toward some facts, emphasizing the fact that logic would dictate that the decline of our world is unequivocally NOT due to the fact that some men take it up the ass. The rest of us have done our share to help as society evolved (whatever that may mean) from the first agriculturally minded men to the agriculturally challenged society in which we find ourselves today. Rather than contribute (in any possible way)  to the racist ramblings of an inconsequential person, I chose to discuss Sorkin's theory and other such inoffensive topics.

I can find a way to talk above the pettiness of some people, but it almost ALWAYS falls on blind ears (I left "blind" in there on purpose. Thank goodness that I proofread this sucker...I mean, of course, DEAF EARS). His response isn't worth repeating but let me tell you this...like the fat chick who finds a fatter friend, I find that in comparison, I feel like Mother Teresa, Socrates and Albert Einstein all rapped up in one person. I am woman, watch me flounder.

TIP FOR TODAY...

And I'm paraphrasing, 'There are three kinds of people, those who discuss things, those who discuss other people and then there are those who discuss ideas. "

You can garner a Brobdingnagian amount of information about a person based on the category into which they fall.

:)

Psycho Plan

If you haven't ever known a psychopath, you haven't lived. They make every moment interesting and teach people around them how to behave in a manner that will keep the peace...just for now. You sort of live life in two minute increments, constantly maneuvering and behaving in a manner that says, "Keeping that nut calm is my main priority." They will demand that you pay attention to them, and they don't know the difference between good attention and bad attention. Any fleecing of your body or soul (preferably both) is good enough for them.

I absolutely know two psychopaths...I don't know any other people who act like a psychopath well enough to say with certainty that they are, in fact, psychopathic. But the two that I know fit the profile so well that I almost enjoy reading about psychopathy just because I keep saying,, "Yep...that's him."

I say him because the two that I know happen to be male. I'm sure there are female psycho's out there...women who kill children come to mind immediately. Although I've only met one murderer (as far as I know), I don't think I've ever come close to a female murderer. Male or female, I don't suppose one has to be a psychopath to be a murderer...but I'm sure it helps. It's very easy to see how a psychopath could be a murderer. Well, I'm actually referring specifically to the two I know.

I don't have much at all but I would wager every bit of it on the fact that the younger of the two ABSOLUTELY will be in the newspaper some day. The only question unanswered is, 'Which paper...the local herald or the New York Times?'

The older one already has been in the paper.

With all I've ever read about psychopathy, I've consistently read one thing...doctors are not aware of any cure. Drugs won't replace a missing conscience and talk therapy only serves to teach the psycho how to better manipulate those around him. So, what do you do with these people who could easily snap at any given time, taking you or your loved ones along? They truly are ticking time bombs. I don't suppose there would be much support for mass executions of psychopaths so I have another idea. They should all be put on one big boat and then launched, with every decent country on the planet refusing them entry.

I'm Such an ASSHOLE!

HIM: Why do you keep turning all the lights on?

ME: I just turned on this one so that I could get my medicine.

HIM: Why are you always starting stuff with me?

Then, I took the dog out.

HIM: Did he poo?

ME: No. He didn't GO either.

HIM: Why do you always have to say something when I say POO?

ME: To myself..."Oh yeah, he isn't responding to me, he's responding to his own demons."

HIM: "Why? I asked you a question. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS SAY SOMETHING WHEN I SAY POO?"

ME: To myself: "It's easier just to shut the fuck up."

HIM: "You don't like it when I say poo? POO...POO...POO.

I would laugh if I could get away from this crap. I have GOT to get a recorder so that you can hear this. I swear, it's like nothing you've ever heard before. One of these days, I will, if I don't end up in jail first.

I Always Did Love Chicago

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University .

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

Are You Old Enough...

...to remember a saying that went like this, "I may not agree with what you say but I'll defend to the death your right to say it?" For some psychotic reason, you never hear that anymore. What a shame.

Have you ever tried to espouse your opinion with a member of the media, a fan of Obama's or a 2 year old? If you disagree to ANY extent, you simply CANNOT do so without being called racist, sexist or criminally selfish. (Of course, you don't get that from 2 year old's but you certainly will get it from a member of the media or a fan of Obama.)

People who don't protect your right to disagree will be up a HUGE shitcreek when they are the ones who hold unpopular opinions. Who will defend them? Rights are not taken away in one fell swoop, they are taken away one step at a time.

STEP ONE TO LOSING YOUR RIGHT TO FREEDOM OF THOUGHT...take that freedom away from someone else.

Like cigarette smokers, it's easy to find a common enemy and make them the newest evil in town. Once that precedence has been set, be very careful of your own actions, they, like Happy Meals, will be next.

Popular opinions have a way of fading away, only to be replaced by polar opposite opinions. Slavery, abortion and beer drinking are examples of this fact. Be very careful who you squelch today...tomorrow you may very well be the one squelched.

Sign of Psychopathy

I know a young man who began to show signs of psychopathy at a very young age. Once I was watching ants carry things a LOT larger than themselves and when the kid walked up, I pointed out one particular ant that was carrying a really large bit of whatever it was. Instead of showing a normal childhood curiosity, the kid simply smashed the ant with his shoe.

He's the youngest psychopath I'm aware of meeting. I've watched his behavior with fascination and noticed a few things about him that I had never seen before. I've been noticing one of the behaviors in someone else who I suspect of being a psychopath and I find the similarities striking, especially considering that the kid was 13 and the new psychopath is in his 60's.

When the kid would do something wrong (more accurately, when he got CAUGHT doing something wrong) he would eventually want a hug from an adult. Somehow, this kid thought that a hug signified that he was forgiven and the "problem" was behind him. I stopped hugging him during those times because although I really do care about the kid, I didn't want to reinforce his negative behavior. I still hugged him when he did something positive, I'm not a psychopath myself.

Forward to yesterday, I know a person who I consider to be a psychopath. Until he leaves evidence of a crime, I can't do anything about his presence in this complex. But, I don't make it a secret when he's annoyed me and he seems to annoy anyone who is within 20 feet of him. Because of "deficiencies in comprehension and appreciation of others’ experiences and motivations, lack of tolerance of differing perspectives and diminished understanding of the effects of own behavior on others", this guy has no clue how to behave and he also has a stunning lack of shame. He doesn't understand why he shouldn't be allowed to throw trash out of a car window because he cannot consider the rest of the planet in his own mind. 


I have nothing against smokers, most of them are basically pretty conscientious about their habit. But this guy is the type who lights cigarettes in cars with the windows all shut, no matter who else is in the car. I've only met one other such person in my entire life. You would think that I would have been safe outside but I wasn't. He sat right next to me and smoked without a concern in the world. Of course the smoke was coming straight at me and no amount of hand-waving or fake coughing could stop it. I finally got up and moved away from the lady I was chatting with when he asked what was bothering me. I told him what was wrong without holding back how rude I considered his behavior. He apologized and I dismissed the entire situation but he wouldn't let it end like that. 


He walked over to me with his arms out and went to hug me. 


Under the right circumstances, I can be an extremely affectionate person. But, I don't like PDA's and I don't like stranger hugs. I actually had to say, "I don't want to be hugged." That started him off trying to scold me and embarrass me by implying that a hug is a wonderful thing under any circumstances and there must be something wrong with me for refusing the hug. But, I'm not as unaware of other people as is he so I knew that most people would understand what was happening.


Unfortunately, psychopaths, "feel no shame or anguish, thus reprimands and punishments have no effect on their behavior. Their behavior is driven by shallower impulses, such as sexual arousal, frustration, boredom, greed, and irritability." Nothing I do around this guy will sink in and nothing my girlfriend does about her son will help either. The only thing I can do is point out a sign that I've picked up on as it relates to psychopaths. They actually believe that a hug, a kiss, or even sex will erase a dirty slate. 


Not even close.

Don't you hate...

 ...people who take your picture without telling you?

...creepy people who allow you to use their phone just so they can get your personal phone numbers?

...men who think the song "Every Breathe You Take" has a "great message"?

TITLE CHANGED AT LAST MOMENT

Ya know how people will stand in the kitchen, open the refrigerator, pull out a gallon of milk, smell the milk, make a hideous face and then offer you the milk to smell for yourself? It's as though they think you will smell something other than the rancid odor of milk gone bad. Well, I wanted to do something similar. I was going to post the most irritating commercial that New York City ever thought up. It is the anti-xanax. If I don't take half a milligram of the stuff BEFORE I see that thing, then I must take a full milligram afterwards. I was going to post this disclaimer:

If you've seen it, pass on it but if you haven't go ahead...the first time will simply baffle you. It's the repetition that will have you driving to a library 50 miles away so that you can secretly and safely search things like, "Where do you get C4?"

But, alas, I could not find the stupid thing. I'm sure it's out there, I've simply exhausted the energy that I allocated for this particular task.

Instead, I think I'll just digress.

I could let you in on a few of my recent thoughts. Yeah...that's the ticket.

File Under 'This Really Happened'...a few days ago I was sitting in the same room as someone who likes to tell other people to "Shut up." I can't control this nimrod but I can do my best to circumvent some of the foolishness that accompanies his ass. I simply remained quiet and watched the television. Out of nowhere, this guy jumped and said, "Shut up!" He mumbled something unforgettable after that but it was the outburst that piqued my interest. It occurred to me that his need to react (whatever that may mean) supersedes reality.

I recently remembered something that I learned decades ago. It was the first concrete bit of maturity that I ever learned. I heard someone say, "The first sign of maturity is taking responsibility for your actions." I immediately began a life of attempting to do just that. I say attempting because some of my actions made it difficult. But, nevertheless, it is an obvious fact of life that I learned in the late 60's. I thought about that after I heard someone, older than myself by a decade, making excuses for making excuses...seriously.

This is very important for some people. Now, when you are around an idiot who honestly does not see their own idiocy, you tend to overhear a lot of the ridiculous rantings of the idiot. When I see the idiot coming out,  I feel sorry for the victim...for about a minute. Then, I just have faith in the fact that everybody else recognizes the idiot for what they are. Most adults can handle an idiot pretty well, especially if one is so identified. I was eating dinner in a Chinese restaurant the other day and there was a minor altercation at a table very close to mine. One guy got up and, after a few feeble verbal volleys with someone who remained at the table, walked away. As he did, he said, "You're making yourself look stupid." Maybe he was and maybe he wasn't but all I could think was, "If that's the truth, it doesn't really need to be said." Stupidity is in the eye of the beholder so you can leave it up to me to decide one way or another. I guess all of this can be summed up by that old maxim, "Don't argue with a clown, win or lose, you look like an idiot."

OK...today one must do something, anything, that makes one's environment a bit better. It doesn't matter what is done, just that something is.

There were many signs that my husband was cheating on me again but when he started brushing his teeth on a daily basis, I knew something was up. This bald man with no self esteem has never been able to tell a woman "No." Having seen some of his mistresses, I can't imagine what he would refuse. It is amazing how many women would want a man that would cheat on his wife. But if Elvis impersonators can get laid, I guess a bald man with a twisted penis can get lucky.

His penis is not only twisted, the head is smaller than the shaft. It looks kind of like a pencil with a worn out eraser. They say that baldness is caused by increased levels of testosterone so I guess that explains this man's voracious appetite for sex. I once found him masturbating to an adult movie on a channel that we didn't get. He was getting off to the slanted, half silent, half moaning reception of some sex channel. Usually, I would find a man with such a sex drive appealing but I prefer quality over quantity. I once glanced at the alarm clock as I climbed into bed. It was 11:00. Rick then began to get "frisky". Foreplay, the act itself, the climax and the first snore all by 11:08. I swear on my children's life. I couldn't believe it. He had never taken so much time in his life.

Now he is someone else's problem. I can't help but relish in the thought that one day, Rick will stop all this tooth-brushing and turn into his regular self for her. She will get to wonder how this man who used to brush his teeth can't seem to keep a pair of underwear free of skid marks for 12 hours. I have spoken to other men about this and it even grosses them out. When you gross out another man, you are, well, gross.

I wish I could say he will challenge her with his mind but up until I pointed out his mistake, he was calling Pensacola "Pepsi-Cola" and Philadelphia "Philadelthia". At first I thought he was a quiet, mysterious man. I slowly realized that he was just a moron who had nothing to say.

Perhaps she thinks she has latched on to a man who will pay her bills. She may think he has a good job and compared to other men who date trailer dwelling bimbos, I bet he does. But, this is the exact same job, title and position he had when I met him 23 years ago. I don't see him becoming CEO anytime soon. He did start working out again for his mid-life crisis so I guess his body will be something. Except of course, for the misshapen penis thing.

A Farewell to Bacardi

I have to apologize for not coming back yesterday, I really meant to. But, I never did remember what the heck I was gonna say and I ended up going out for a couple of drinks late yesterday afternoon.

I must be hideously out of drinking shape and at my age, the work-out isn't worth the price. I used to be able to drink really well...I practiced a lot when I was in college. I could drink until someone said, "WE AIN"T GOT NO MORE LIQUOR!" Then, I could go home, pass out and wake up ready to ace a chemistry exam.

But alas, nevermore.

I go to bed relatively early most nights and after a couple drinks, I fell asleep earlier than usual yesterday. Then, a few hours  later I woke up feeling like shit. I thought that I must be getting sick so I just went back to bed. It didn't help much, I woke up feeling just as bad. But, I was alert enough to notice the dryness of my oral mucosa. That let me know, I actually had a hangover. It never occurred to me that I would get a hangover after 2 drinks...I wouldn't have even expected it after 3. I know 4 would be pushing it but I rarely even drink one so I don't usually have to worry about hangovers.

I didn't think about a hangover while I was drinking, I wouldn't have because it's never an issue when your drinking habits are as boring as are mine. But, it seems as though my only option now is to never drink again. If I can't even have 2 highballs without feeling like crap, it's not worth the time and expense.

Thank God (literally) for weed.

The Old Cat Lady

I don't have a cat, but I write about them on a blog. I just heard a woman remark that she didn't want to become the "old cat lady". I have a huge problem with that comment.

I've known a couple of cat lady's in my day and they were sweet and caring people. (Well, they were sweet and caring to cats.) I've been a cat lady but not an old one. I would be one if I could, I just can't responsibly care for a cat right now but sooner or later I will be able to and then I'll be an old cat lady. I'll even get a nice big dog some day and then I'll be the old dog and cat lady. I will still be a valuable human being, just more so to animals than to other people. So, if you don't want to be an old cat lady, that's just fine. But don't make derogatory comments about those of us who are proud to be old cat lady's.

I came here specifically to say something but the old cat lady thing messed me up. I'll be back very soon, I have to remember what it was. I know I will because I've thought about it a few times since yesterday, I just forgot for the moment. BRB.