Thursday, July 28, 2005

I'd Rather Have a Bottle In Front of Me.....

As this is my first day home from the hospital, I'll keep this short. No, no, I'm fine, really, just on the mend.

I had (have? - I think my body is actually still fighting it off) viral meningitis. But I have some good drugs and am recuperating well. I'll regale you with the whole goofy story later. But in the meantime I will leave you with these thoughts...

1 - If you have a REALLY BAD HEADACHE (especially if it feels like light is a physical presence that stabs relentlessly into your eyeballs) go to the hospital. Seriously. Just go.

2 - Spinal taps suck. I will not be getting ANYONE one for Christmas.

Friday, July 22, 2005

Open Letter

Attention Tragically Misguided Assholes,

The is no god - big G god, little g god, god with a tail, god with tusks, god with crown of thorns, god in flowing robe, white god, black god, brown god, male god, female god, barking monkey poo god - that condones the slaughter of innocent people. You will not be greeted in the Great Beyond or Heaven or Your Next Incarnation with cookies and virgins. You will be going to Hell, Someplace REALLY Bad or come back as an animal used for scientific research.

I don't care what you believe. You are wrong. Grossly wrong. I laugh at your future comeuppance as I gnash my teeth at your insanity. I spit at you. If you want to commit suicide I heartily encourage you to do so as you are so mentally deranged society has no place for you. Just don't think you have to take people with you.

Karma will get you. I don't care if you believe in it or not. It WILL get you.

I only wish we could all be there to see it.

Oh, and I also want to say, from the bottom of my anguished heart -


Thursday, July 21, 2005

Page 208

According to Glamour's August 2005 edition (hey, I can't just read Darwin non-stop you know) the following are the "10 Secret Signs He'll Be Good in Bed"

1 - He doesn't boast about how good he is in bed (if he does - run!).

Is this true? I have no idea. I can not recall a single time a man has told me he is good in bed PRIOR to me finding our for myself. Maybe this one is for those of you who are perusing the single's ads.

2 - He can knot a necktie in five seconds flat - fine motor skills are always a plus.

Okay, yeah, fine motor skills are always a plus. But he is fast at the necktie because of REPETITION. Just because he is good at something he does five times a week, fifty odd weeks a year, doesn't mean he's going to have the kind of skills to rev up my motor. And I'm not seeing where the speed is a plus. Maybe if he takes his time slowly tying the knot, smoothing the ends frequently with his hands, carefully inserting the rabbit into the hole, finally caressing the finished product. I'm thinking THAT sounds more like it!

3 - Never in your life have you made such intense... eye contact.

I'm agreeing with this one just because I HATE it when people talk to you and don't look at you. What is the DEAL with that? Why, if a person is talking TO YOU they feel the need to gaze off over your shoulder? Or above your head? Or completely off in left field? Seriously, I HATE this. So very rude. If I'm talking to anyone and they look at me for THE ENTIRE CONVERSATION I love them already.

4 - The Italian actress he dated last year still calls him.

How is this a "good" thing? Because Italian women tend to "keep in touch" with good lovers? Que?

5 - He cooks sloppy but cleans up neat.

I really like the visuals on this one. Think about it. Think about it more. Riiiiiiiiiiight. It reminds me of something I read that said, roughly, that good sex is messy and REALLY good sex is disgusting. AMEN!!

6 - A surreptitious survey of his bookshelf reveals high-quality novels, substantial nonfiction - and nothing remotely resembling The System: How to Get Laid Today!

He HAS a bookshelf? ALRIGHT! Although I think too many philosophical books are worse than finding porn (depending on the porn - Also if you meet a guy like my -stupid- friend dated who has porn going NONSTOP in the VCR and always has a towel lying on the floor by his bed, R-U-N! Did I mention my friend was stupid because she dated him for almost a year and would wash his towels for him. Ewwww!)

7 - He talks with his hands and he laughs with his whole body.

I'm totally on board with this one too. Especially the laugh part. ANYONE who gets that into laughing just plain old ROCKS!

8 - He holds open doors, waits for you before digging into dinner and generally seems to get the concept of "ladies first".

I see where they are going with this (not that they are trying to be THAT subtle). I don't understand the women who get annoyed by men who hold doors for them. Their whole "I can open the door MYSELF!" attitude is just bizarre. OF COURSE you can get the damn door yourself. If someone is being polite enough to hold a door for you the least you can do is be polite back. I hold doors open for people ALL THE TIME. It's just my small way of spreading a little good karma around. It doesn't mean I don't think the trolls can't get the door themselves. Lighten up already.

9 - His bedroom light switch has a dimmer.

Okay, he isn't allowed to read books on how to get laid but it IS okay for his bedroom light to have a dimmer? Personally this makes me think of the movies where the guy pushes a button and automatically "mood" music comes on, the curtains close, a bar pops out of the floor and one wall turns around revealing a giant round bed complete with leopard print silk sheets.

10 - He's on the short side - think of him as "man concentrate".

I laughed out loud at this one! Man concentrate - like if you just add water he'll grow. Or dilute. Or expand. While there ARE portions of a man I LIKE to expand, the other visuals for this are just a little too disturbing.

In conclusion, I would like to add that you can't tell a book by it's cover (even though I HAVE found many good reads that way). You have to get under the covers yourself. If you don't like it you can just put it back on the shelf. If it's good you can keep around and see how it turns out!

Monday, July 18, 2005

AJ = Predator

Well, in THIS case anyway.

PS - While you're there, go to the beginning and just read 'em all. I laughed out loud. MANY times. Hell, I laughed so much I think my uterus fell out.

Oh. No. Wait. Here it is.

Friday, July 15, 2005

Maybe I Need a New Bed......

Okay... WTF??!!

Now I dreamt that I was in Las Vegas.

With Billy Baldwin.

People, I think they were aliens disguised as people, were trying to kill us. Maybe they were just trying to kill Billy and I was collateral damage on the hoof.

No, I did NOT sleep with, kiss, or even stand in close proximity to Billy Baldwin.

Let's not loose our heads here.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Perchance To....

So I had this dream the other night...

I girl I haven't seen since FIFTH GRADE (do the math people, I think that's like an eon or something) named Missy and I were sitting on the floor. She had just finished telling me how she was madly in love with me. She sat there, looking all blond and cute and giving me these big hopeful puppy dog eyes. What's a girl to do?

I said, "I'm sorry. I am completely heterosexual."

Then I say again, in a small pathetic voice, "I'm really sorry."

The dream rambles on from there, yada yada yada, blah blah blah.

Shortly after I woke up, I lie remembering that brief chunk of dream and I think....

What the hell was I doing? It was a DREAM!!! I should have kissed her at least, right? Pillow fight? Got out the olive oil and the feathers and the batteries?

What happened to my dreams??!!

If I start dreaming about shopping at Target, just kill me. Okay?

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

I'm Telling Your Mother


How HARD hard is it to actually FLUSH a toilet?

My freaking THREE YEAR OLD has been on board with this motion for a good seven months.

Yet I am CONSTANTLY conflabulated to find myself facing yet ANOTHER public toilet filled with (yeah, okay, let's not paint the ENTIRE sordid picture).

No, no, the toilet isn't broken. When I push the button or the handle or WHATEVER with my foot, it whisked the offending material(s) away promptly.


Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Do You See What I See?

"What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do? - Ralph Ellison, The Invisible Man

Hasn't everyone, at some point in their life (some of us at frequent points) has stopped and looked our lives, the point in our history that we have achieved at this very moment and wondered "What the...???!!!" This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.

Maybe you are amazed. Maybe you are bemused. Maybe you are just mad as hell.

However, to stop and ponder the path taken (as well as the seemingly endless string of paths not taken) is to drive oneself crazy with the evil "What if..". To stop and realize that every second, every breath, every blink of an eye, a decision is made that affects the entire course of the rest of your life. How would my life be different if I were reading right now instead of typing this? If I were playing with my children? If I were in the shower? If I were to call my mother? If I just sat and stared into space? It's dizzying.

What would I would do if I knew this were my last day on earth? Egads! The pressure! That is the REASON why we can't live our lives like each and every day needs to be the penultimate day of our lives. Laundry would never get done for one. I mean, come on! Who is going to spend their last day perpendicular doing one more load of whites?

Monday, July 11, 2005

Now MORE Complete with Choline!

Are you, like me, looking for new outlets for that deep roiling pit of anger that seethes in the well of your dark soul? Tired of the old standbys - swearing? throwing coffee cups? biting the heads off unsuspecting chickens (because, let's face it, what chicken is expecting THAT??!)?

Well, have I got a job for you.

Hie thee down to your neighborhood store and get a bottle of good ol' Flintstones vitamins. If you are a real Bitter Betty, *cough cough Kris cough cough* you might want to get the Sam's Club / Costco economy size. Then you get out your trusty cutting board and a steak knife and start cutting.

I discovered this fabulous technique because my three year old is only allowed HALF of a tablet. Obviously the Bayer HealthCare LLC company has been hip to the aggression-disbursement needs of mothers for years.

Oh, the sweet release of shopping Fred's ginormous head off. Barney takes the whack right across the middle. BamBam's head is left floating next to his perpetually cocked bat. Pebbles (who looks disturbingly troll-like) is neatly severed at the top of her arm. Betty, who we all know was missing from the vitamin family originally, apparently joined the fruity ranks with a little lingering hostility as you have to chop her right where her elbows jut crankily from her hips. Wilma is left with one half of an arm perennially fluffing her trademark coiffure. Dino is sitting up, begging, just BEGGING, you to lop him in half. But the greatest pleasure, I feel, can be found by brutally slicing the head from that oh-so-annoying alien dude. The Great Gazoo my ass!

Just don't let your spouse come in and catch you licking all the fruity carcass dust off the cutting board. The embarrassment might harsh your mellow.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Mr & Mrs Blog


My body heat could warm a small room, and perhaps bake bread.


It’s not a real pool party until there’s some cellulite in the pool.


Unfortunately the 'real world' doesn't need Shakespeare consultants.


I have been trying very hard for the last year or so to get the kids to run away from home.


I feel ten times better right now and I've made a vow: I'm not drinking for the rest of the month. Seriously.


We should not know what Fido's skin looks like, but we do, and it is scaly, gray, flaking, and ... ew, sometimes it oozes.


Fans shouldn't be allowed to vote for all-star games because too many fans are idiots


The universe truly does have a somewhat twisted conception of timing... which is hardly ever right.


it's funny how much entertainment a hula-hoop and a 7-yr-old kid can provide


(haha my dick feels like corn! give me the butter! give me the butter baby!!)


You have taken the small, character driven script that had a cast attached, locations locked up and what was basically a “go movie” and turned it to a steaming pile of crap that I would be embarrassed to give to Keanu Reeves to read.


So it now led to this: When people ask for a cigarette, I tell them I can't afford to give them away, but I will make a trade: I will give them a cigarette if they give me a piece of advice.


My sperm is too busy joking around to find an egg.


Inside, I'm laughing like a hyena.


To make a long story short, I eat pineapples a lot.


That's not the first time I cried to get a cat.


Nevertheless, when I walk into a room with only 1/50,000th of a dog's sense of smell, I can tell right away if someone dropped ass. I'm no dog, but if there was Taco Bell involved, I usually can tell that, too.


Although, the 45 minute argument about whether the term "erection" represents an object or a process was fun.


It's tough to get things done when your organizational chart looks like a series of squished spiders.


To exemplify what we're dealing with here: they were all wearing matching denim skirts that had their names monogrammed on the ass.


Thursday, July 07, 2005

No Poe No Mo

I hate poetry.

There. I said it. It just felt so right. I think I'll say it again.

I hate poetry.

Unless you count Dr. Seuss. He rocks.

Okay, and limericks because I like dirty things.

I will read anything - ANYTHING - including the back of every product bottle in my bathroom whilst brushing my teeth. But I just. can. not. STAND poetry.

So I will now also state that the blogs I hate most (in no particular order) are:

- poetry blogs

- political rant blogs

- knitting blogs (Why are you typing? Go make a sweater or something.)

- advertisement only blogs (the ONLY exception being the blog solely devoted to the treatment of genital warts because the pictures, oh merciful heavens the pictures)

- god help us, poker blogs.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Oh Say Can You See...

I don't know about you people, but my Fourth of July Weekend was AWESOME!!

I ate and I ate and I ate.

I am currently, as close as modern science can calculate, about 40% potato salad. If I broke into a jog I would sweat pickles & Mayo.

The people in our neighborhood and the neighborhood behind us, are fireworks freaks. There were fireworks "wars" going on both nights. It was really really cool. Because, as you know, in fireworks wars, EVERYONE WINS!

Except for a little whiplash I got from trying to watch everything at once.

Seriously though, I saw more fireworks Sunday & Monday than I had seen in the prior TEN YEARS. In Arizona fireworks are muy muy illegal so the only displays are the big city ones.

Oh Tulsa, I did not want to like you but you made me love you.

Monday, July 04, 2005

Laughing at the Expense of a Senile Little Old Lady

Oh yes, I am indeed a sick and twisted puppy.

Case in point - this is one of my FAVORITE stories.

My great-uncle A died. He was survived by his wife E and a couple of children and probably grandchildren. I'm not sure. Yeah, we're close.

The rats had started deserting E's mental ship several years back and by this time the ship was still moving but no one was at the helm. They got her dressed up and parked her in a pew at the church for the funeral.

When the first sympathisizer stopped by her pew to give their condolences, it went a little something like this...

Greiving Wellwisher - Oh E! How are you doing?

E - I'm doing fine thank you. I just wish the service would start.

GW - Well, that's good to hear. (patting hand)

E - Are you with the bride or the groom?

GW - Um, what?

E - Who's wedding is this again?

GW - (gulp) E. It's A's funeral, remember.


At which point she completely breaks down including hysterical sobbing and attempting to rend the clotheing of not only herself but everyone with in reach.

They take her to the back of the church, get her clamed down and, eventually, back in her seat.

Fifteen minutes later, someone else let's it slip again that A. is dead.


After the third round everyone is getting a little shell-shocked having to re-live the bad news over and over so they position someone by the door to tell EVERYONE walking in they should NOT, under any circumstances, let E know that this is A's funeral.

Later that evening she nibbles cookies and says it was a beautiful wedding.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Freak of the Week

Okay. I just finished reading Candy Freak by Steve Almond.

Oh, fellow junkies can I get a hallelujah?


Not only is Mr. Almond a self-proclaimed Candy Freak (hence the title) but he is also a goof ball and, occasionally, a potty mouth. All qualities I have happen to admire highly. HIGHLY!

He makes up words like zietschaungundermoutton (German-ish for 'the world in my mouth'). He says things like "What I mean by this is that I imagine what it would be like to lick or chew or suck a great deal of stuff. Examples would include the skin of a killer whale, any kind of bright acrylic paint, and Cameron Diaz's eyeballs."

Are you feelin' me here peeps?

He admits to being, gasp!, uncool on occasion. He likes (not LIKES likes, just, you know, thinks she's cool) a woman because she uses words like 'gunky' and 'wuss'. He himself uses commendable words like "tizzy", "glop", "dickweed" and "totally ass-kicking"(italics his). Oh, and fuck in several variations (my favorite being "I am not going to tell you that this is enough wafers to stretch from the earth to the moon six times. I will say, only, that it is a lot of fucking wafers.")

He also says something that needs to be said. That has NEEDED to be said for a long time. "Every now and again, I'll run into someone who claims not to like chocolate or other sweets, and while we live in a country where everyone has the right to eat what they want, I want to say for the record that I don't trust these people, that I think something is wrong with them, and that they're probably - this must be said - total duds in bed."

Can I get an amen?