Happy to see the End

of 2006. Years ending with the number six seem, for whatever
reason, to have been a little unkind to me and to those I love
(at least if 1996 and 2006 have been any indication), so I'm
glad to see it out the door. Just to Celebrate, we opened a
bottle of wine that I received as a gift in '96, quite possi-
ly, oh hell -- hands down the worst year of my life -- and
drank down all of the bad luck. I'm reckless with luck that
way, walking under ladders, opening umbrellas indoors... I
fully expect we drained all of the bad luck of that year, and
this past year, a pale shadow in the misery department, but
not a real peach of a year nonetheless, last night.

Oh, and Steve called. Kind of a calculated thing on his part,
using Christmas to soften me up before calling to see if I'm
still mad at him, but anyway. Have to give him points for be-
ing smart about it. I would have done the same thing in his
shoes.

Waiting for Valerie

So my best friend is coming over because I am SO LONELY with-
out Dylan, who is with his dad in Austin. I'm driving in on Wednes-
day or Thursday though - whenever I can get business finished up
here. I have a lot of loads to get straight for the end of next week.
Things that definitely need to be run and billed out before the end
of the year if I'm going to break even this month. Oy. Capitalism,
gotta love it.

Then in January we have the poultry convention in Atlanta. That's
always a rollicking good time, what with everyone trying to drink
each other under the table. Oh and this year there will be the spe-
cial added pressure of trying to both outmaneuver and stay away
from my old boss. Although, I have a broker coming in from Ohio.
He's a pretty big guy, former ball player and whatever. I guess he
can help play keepaway. I'm a little nervous about the whole thing
quite honestly.

I DO have the tits though! Wonder if anyone will notice? That's
just a joke. The poultry industry is very small when it comes to
gossip and there aren't that many women in sales. They'll notice.

I am really self-absorbed aren't I? Yes. Ok. Now that we've had
that brief moment of uncomfortable self-enlightenment, let's
move on, because it was really yucky.

So the running of loads is really a painstaking and thankless task,
which is why, I suppose, I make money doing it. But this week
its going to also be almost impossible to pull off what with the
holidays. Plants will try to (try? Hell, they out and out will ship
the incoming meat short, so there won't be enough product to
run. I can predict that at the outset). Then on top of that, I have
to have a truck pick up breading Wednesday night which may or
may not really be ready on time. I mean it should be ready but
hey. Its the fucking holidays. And, I need to find two trucks to
ship to California on Friday and Saturday, again... over the Holi-
days.

And by the way? People aren't just clamoring to leave their fam-
ilies and go driving dead chickens up and down the highways over
Christmas and New Year's. They aren't really lining up. So, it's
a toss-up.

And if I can't pull off all of these runs and all of these trucks?
Well, it's all bad from there.

Umm... Yes

When I said that there would be the occasional dash of wit in my
blog? I did NOT MEAN that it would be RIGHT THERE in the
the header where the very WORD OCCASIONAL has been
spelled incorrectly lo these past however long... (how the hell long
have I been here anyway?) Nevermind. That's not the point.
Not once mind you. Oh no. Twice. How high do you have to be
to do that twice? I'm talking about you not TELLING me vis a vis
that question just in case you were wondering, and not about me
doing it in the first place, although I can see why you might have
been confused.

Are you the same group of people who would let me, your friend,
walk around with parsley in my teeth and not said anything at all!?
Well! Are you? Yes. You are. You are exactly that same group of
friends. I know you well.

I've Heard Rumors

I Know

That I shouldn't say this. It is low and mean and petty. But.
My ex-husband's wife is becoming increasingly large. And
not any more attractive as the years pass. I know this be-
cause I make a sick yearly pilgrimage to the website of which-
ever academic outpost or University they happen to be teach-
ing THIS year just to see. I wonder, as I gaze at her ever
steepening forehead (oh yes, it appears she also suffers from
thin hair and a rather unfortunate case of female pattern bald-
ness, the type that renders the hairline ever higher on the head
of its female sufferers) if this latest move had anything to do
with his penchant for straying from the proverbial fold.

I wonder how many times she's had to tell herself that he
really is just friends with that other, very attractive and
witty female professor. I wonder how she deals with being
just down the hall from him in another office when she sees
female students flocking to the office of the published poet.
I wonder if he ever takes their daughter to his office and lets
any of those students babysit for a little while behind her
back.

I wonder if she has ever used that same daughter to threat-
en him, in desparation, realizing that she really isn't competing
so much with other women after all, but maybe words on a
page or something in his mind, or something so ephemeral
it cannot even be described at all.

And I wonder if she ever thinks about the two little boys and
their respective mothers who came before her, Merry Christ-
mas. Its what you wanted. Now you're there.

You're there Aren't You?

In the secret place.

Maybe.

You are, aren't you! I knew it! See?
You may be able to keep the where
and the what to yourself but I
still got through to you right in the
middle of the commission. Ha!

Yes, you're quite naughty.

hmm... It's so funny to talk to you
when you're there. Doing the secret
thing. So why can't you tell me anyway?

I promise, it will all make sense when it
turns out.

I'll bet it doesn't. I'll bet it doesn't make any
sense at all. I'll probably roll my eyes and tell
you how absolutely stupid and annoying you
were for thinking there was any reason what-
soever for that level of cloak and dagger.

I don't think so.

Uggh! I DO! How much longer?

What?

Oh please, you know perfectly well what. Until I
can know, of course.

I don't know.

Oh come on, give me a ballpark. Days, weeks,
months?

laughter. You know I really can't tell you.
Until it comes together. I have to -
Can I call you later?

Wait, wait. Have I ever told you how much
you sound like Eddie Izzard?

The comedian?

Yes. Him.

I wish I was as funny as him.

You are funny.

I'm an asshole.

No, no, you're not. Not really. You remember
when you were gone...

Yes.

I listened to this Izzard CD - something about
Cake - terribly funny. But,
I was crying the entire time... He
sounded so much like you. I listened to it over
and over again. I thought you -

I know. I'll call you later, I have to go now.

Say No To Steve

So I decided that NOW,
FINALLY, since I have
other assets besides my
hair, then its ok for me
to go auburn again. I
mean, there is a certain
rather larger percentage
of the male population that REALLY DOES PREFER BLONDES.

However, I like myself better with darker hair. In sales, its
unfortunately important to worry a good bit about appearances
and about what the average man might prefer because hey! I sell
to men. Mostly men anyway. Yep, about 98.9% male I would say.

But I've noticed since the enhancements that men aren't really
looking all that much at my hair anymore. Sometimes they seem
to be able to hold an entire conversation with my chest alone. Which
is really funny. I usually get
a lot of flack for being "the
smart girl" (I know, difficult
to believe but true) so its fun-
ny now that it almost doesn't
matter what I say because a
lot of guys aren't hearing a
thing that comes out of my
mouth anyway. Which brings
me to Steve. My Ex. I mean my really EX EX because we split
up two years ago.

We had gotten back together for a romp in the hey the other
night. Right. I said "hey" and not hay. Because hey! It was
pretty good. It was though, I'm sure, completely courtesy of
the new breasts, because its not like it happened BEFORE I
got them. (I've always been known for my brutal self-
honesty and now is no exception.)

So anyway, I figured that was the last of that. Which is ok. I
mean, I DO have a date with an attorney and another date
with a newscaster from Birmingham. But there was some-
thing really comfortable and nice about being with someone
with whom I felt totally comfortable. But then he calls again,
so we agreed to get together. So. I didn't make weekend
plans. I cleaned the house. I even went so far as to think
about, well at least to entertain the thought of thinking
about, wearing the new garter belt and stocking set I'd
bought to go with one of the approximately 25 (yes count
them, TWENTY-FIVE) sexy new bras I've purchased
since the surgery.

And then? Nothing. No phone call. Bubkus. Nada. Zero.
Cero. Zilch. That's right.

So I thought to myself, "Well, he must have another date."
But hey, if he did, he should have TOLD me he had plans
so that I COULD make plans with say, the newscaster.
After all, he lives closer to me than the attorney.

But then I thought, "Is he just being a stupid weenie be-
cause I wrote in my other blog about how the fedex guy
asked me for my phone number?" Which is funny, be-
cause its not as though I'm actually going to go OUT with
the fedex guy, being the elitist snob that I am.

That's right. The gatekeeper to my vagina keeps out all
comers (ha! no pun) without at the very least, a four year
degree. Yes. I know. I just lost readers. So sorry. By-
gones.

Now that I have alienated many of you, let me go on with
my story. Thank you. Ok. So anyway. For whatever
reason, be it poutiness or just that he's got something
else to do, I was inconvenienced. I don't like to be in-
convenienced. No, Steve, NO! Bad Steve. Bye Steve.

Bye Bye Steve, Bye Bye

And also, I will be changing my blogsite because bad
Steve and his family all read my blog. That's right.
Not only did he accidentally forward one of my emails to
everyone who works for the space station program at
NASA, he also gave his family and God knows who else,
my blog address.

Medical Mysteries

So yesterday, all of a sudden, my breasts became very inflamed
and sensitive and red and well... huge. Let me... revise. They
are already quite large now of course, they just became very
swollen.

I was positive I had an infection. I went to get a shot of anti-
biotics from my local doc and also, a prescription for augmentin,
and resolved to see my surgeon next Thursday when I return
from Portland (I leave for Oregon Saturday) or perhaps sooner
should it look like things are worse, tending to streak, etc.

I can generally follow these things pretty well as I've unfor-
tunately been hospitalized with cellulosis before following a
spider bite in Texas.

There was one odd thing that rather argued against infec-
tion. The entirety of both breasts, including the nipples,
felt very sensitive. Almost engorged. Rather as they had
after I'd first had my son and my milk had come in. Odd,
since I was three weeks out from the surgery, and the
swelling had previously diminished. Also, one expects
infections to begin in a more localized area with redness
and swelling and then to move out in various directions
with swelling, and then redness and perhaps even streak-
ing from that area.

In any case, I iced what had become the virtual mountains
on my chest down and went to sleep. Five hours later I
woke with two sodden bag of soggy veggies. The okra will
never be the same.

I had a horrible migraine, which has been par for the
course the past three days. So I opened up a relpax -
one of the newer triptans - and was just about to pop
it into my mouth when clarity hit me like a bolt out
of nowhere. VASODILATER. Oh duh. And double
duh - no pun intended vis-a-vis the two breasts of
course.

I'd taken three relpax, count them, THREE over the
past 36 hours for my horrible migraine. So my blood
was flowing fast and free and more than HAPPY to
settle into my newly implanted and oh so tender boob-
ies.

Sooo... Now I have a raging migraine AND sore breasts
and nothing to take for either except butalbital without
codeine. If things get really bad I suppose I'll go get a
shot at the ER -- Of course, I go to Portland on Satur-
day, so the next few days should be fun.

Seems like since I have relpax listed as a med that I
take for migraines someone would tell me "hey, lay off
of that post op." I'm pretty sure viagra would be out of
the question for the same reason... Not, that I take
viagra, I'm just saying.

For Dr. D

Ok, so about the sex. I got my boobs done. And... they haven't
really hatched yet officially. I mean, I still have the tape
underneath them. They are a D now, but I just know that means
that eventually they will be a C. Which of course, means that
eventually I will have them redone larger. Because. Everyone
does. Once you get them. You want them. BIGGER. LOL

At any rate, they do look great. If um, I do say so.

So of course, 1 1/2 weeks post op, what did I do? Well natur-
ally, I had sex last night. And not just any sex. REALLY GREAT
SEX. With yes, the ex-boyfriend from two years ago.

I have to say though, the really great thing about exes is, that
they already know exactly WHAT TO DO. In bed I mean. I'm never
one of those people who thinks that the hottest sex is the first
time. I mean, the first time CAN be really really hot, but...
when you start to get to know someone and trust them, you can
let yourself go in a way that's different. Also, they KNOW that
you trust them so they feel freer with you too, which is possibly
even more important.

So all of that said, I am NOT a good patient. I am in more pain
than other patients because I've had more surgeries, I have mi-
graines and I take more medication. So... the anesthesiologist
gives me, of all things, fentanyl, which yes, I KNOW you guys love
to use that stuff, right before he wakes me up. You know what
happens with that right? Basically. if they use too much it
can cause respiratory distress and kill you, kind of like that
one nurse did to her patient on purpose? So its a great short
term pain reliever except that you can't use that much of it
due to its potential respiratory issues.

So I tell the nurse in recovery - I'm in pain and I need a shot.
She just says, I'm not allowed to give you anything. Nothing
else, just that. So I try again, I'm in a lot of pain, what do
you mean I can't have anything? You aren't going to be able to
do anything for my pain in here? She says no.

So I said, "Right. Great. Well then, get me my clothes." Be-
cause obviously, I know that I have the demerol/phenergan mix
in the car and if that is all I am going to get then I am going
to get it NOW. So I got up and left. And took three of the lit-
tle pills that I was supposed to take two of - did I mention the
bad patient part? Then promptly called the office back as I
waited in agony for the medication to take effect and asked for
a nurse. To whom I read the riot act. It consisted of, I think,
the fact that they were paid a great deal of money up front for
my surgery, that I have a right to quality care and to be made
comfortable, and everything that I had not been lucid enough to
say when I mumbled for my clothes earlier. As I recall, the
speech lasted some time and Val, my friend driving said, "Oh shit,"
a couple of times during the diatribe.

I hung up and after a while the other medication kicked in to a
level where I could tolerate the pain. Of course, I alternated
it with my own lortab until I got on top of it and once it was
under control its been great from there and now I don't even
need it.

I refused to come in the next day, and came in the day after in-
stead. (I was sulking.) The doctor apologized, started to tell
me about the dangers of fentanyl, I say skip it, I know. Then
he says, so the nurse had to wait a little while. I said, "The
nurse said NOTHING about waiting a little while. The nurse said
that she would not be able to do anything for me." The doctor
groused around a little bit about how the nurse should have got-
ten him. (DUH) And then said that of course they always try to
make their patients comfortable in recovery, etc. I said, I'm
sure that's true and smiled like I really meant it and we both
said bygones and went on with the visit (after all, this man IS
in charge of my tits - its important to play nice with him.)

OH right, well. So back to the sex. I know I'm not supposed
to have sex 1 1/2 weeks post op. We tried very hard not to
umm.... "shake" the "jubblies" too much. Yeah, jubblies is a
new one for me too, I heard my son using it.

Anyway, and there's the fact that I've been working, and reach-
ing, sometimes above my head if nobody else is here, with my
right hand, and... like I said. Bad patient. Therefore, my
left breast is getting soft and dropping beautifully and my
right breast is slightly firmer because I am using my right
arm all of the time. They both look the same though and I'm
starting to massage...

But anyway. There it is. The sex.

La Reve

This story is truly almost painful to read. But I love the way
Nora tells it in this truly gossipy and yet at the same time kind of
touching way:

The Picasso

My condolences to Steve Wynn

Here's the Sex Part

Ok, its only kind of like sex but I do pro-
mise sex in my blog and this may be the
closest we get to it unless I break down
and give my ex-boyfriend from a year
ago a booty call. (Which would never
happen by the way - just in case he's
reading this.)

But anyway, so... I'm getting the girls
done. I'm thinking something in a large
C cup, maybe a small D, but I'm not
sure I can pull that off - have to talk to
the surgeon about it.

He's probably going to think I'm really
weird because I've gone on an actual
umm... tittie hunt. So I have all of
these photos of what I like to call:
"Acceptable Breast Outcomes"
that I'd like to show the guy.

You know, kind of like if you were re-
doing the kitchen, you'd call the con-
tractor in and say, ok I'd like the
cabinets to be done in a dark satin
stain and to hang exactly 1 1/2" from
the floor, and NOT crooked either mind
you, I want those puppies straight and
aligned. The cabinets I mean.

Right. Okay. So I want my cabinets
hung MUCH higher than that. I mean,
they're already hung, I'd just like them
ENHANCED.

Anyway, the doctor I'm going to go to
was a sculptor before he became a sur-
geon and he has a certain aesthetic that
I really like.

So Cool!

See now, I worked for Child Protective Services for ten years
and it would have been so GREAT to have known back then
that there really IS A CURE FOR PEDOPHILIA! That's right
ladies and gentlemen, alcohol rehab! Isn't that wonderful!

Or in the words of TomKat, AMAZING!!! and WONDERFUL!!
I thought so too! Now we can place thousands of children
back with their perpetrating parents and other assorted care-
takers. Wow. How cool is that. Thank you so much Congress-
man Foley for helping us all out with this one. Whew! We
really ought to award some sort of Nobel prize to the man.
At the very least for genius in obfuscation.

Guess what? If you're molested as a child, it is NO excuse to
molest someone else's child nor your own children. It does
not and should not offer you a get-out-of-jail-free card or even
one iota of sympathy for your actions as an adult.

Let's all save our sympathy for the victims of abuse who live
with the aftermath daily but lead caring lives towards others.

I learned two things when I worked as an investigator for
CPS.

1) Victims are so guilt-ridden they frequently feel like per-
petrators even when they are not. True victims seem to
have a sense of guilt about everything. On the other hand,
perpetrators are con artists who will UNCEASINGLY try to
make you feel like they are victims.

We just saw this in spades with Foley. What's his main focus
on, his guilt over damaging white house pages emotionally?
Oh NOOOOOOO! Absolutely not. Just like a true perpe-
trator his focus is on trying to get his "victimhood" out to
us. My alcohol abuse made me do it, I was victimized as a
child.

Well buddy, I've got news for you, there are a lot of drunk
former victims of abuse out there who aren't out there
hunting our children on the Internet. Wanna think about
that one for a minute on your way to your jail cell? I
learned something else too during my tenure with CPS.

2) Rehab of any type, alcohol, psychotherapy or otherwise
does not cure pedophiles. There is one very good therapy
for them though. Shotgun therapy. Best treated early.
Before too much damage is done. To others I mean.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Oh yes and HASTER? You deserve to go down right along
with him. You are no better than the Catholic diocese who
transferred priests from parish to parish.


SYD-SHAME ON YOU ALL! And THAT my friends, is a
LOT of shame. I learned it from the best.

Remember When?

My dad was in the hospital with his aortic aneurysm and my step-
monster and I were practically coming to blows as I insisted on
staying there with him around the clock and questioning each med
and order that came in?

And she kept saying, Why do you ask so many questions? The
doctors and nurses KNOW what they are doing... Right. Sure.

Read THIS story for just how well they KNOW what they are do-
ing. Statistically, every American going into the hospital has a
number of mistakes per day made with their meds, care etc.
I can't remember the exact number but I'm sure its online
somewhere. Typically though, the mistakes just aren't life-
threatening.

And moreover? I have a few IQ points on a lot of the medical staff.
Plus - every time your nursing staff changes? Do you really think
they take the time to read your entire previous chart in hospital?

Let me just answer that for you. No. They don't. They try to
catch up on your current condition and basic history and current
orders. Try is the operative word here.

But back to the story. Three separate nurses FAILED to notice,
or noticing, failed to question, that the normal heplock given to
at risk preemies was in a dark blue topped vial labeled heparin
instead of a baby-blue vial labeled hep-lock.

See, the IV ports have to be kept open with a teeny amount of
blood thinner. Not, of course, the gargantuan amount of blood
thinner one would give to say -- an adult suffering from a
pulmonary embolism. So those little preemies bled to death.

So me? Stepmother or not, I'm going to keep right on bitching
and asking questions while in the hospital. Both on behalf of
myself and my relatives.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I can't believe I've resorted to blogging about past American
Idols, but there you have it. Here goes:

Apparently ---> Clay Aiken Deserves Some Respect


Actually, Clay Aiken seems like a niceish sort of guy but...

Yeah, you knew the but was coming right?
I'd have more respect for him if he just said to the "gay question"
one of three things, and truthfully mind you.
1) yes
2) no
3) none of your bleeping business, next person to ask me gets a
hatchet to the head.

Secondly, is there some moral high ground to taking paxil but NOT
going to therapy along with it? Since when is it somehow "holier"
to go it on your own rather than get very good psychotherapy or
counseling? PARTICULARLY if you are experiencing something
that could really be helped via psychotherapy, like anxiety at-
tacks? Or would you just prefer to pop paxil the remainder of
your life and live with your panic attacks? I wasn't aware that
attendance at counseling sessions was such a shameful thing in
the first place, so I just find his position on this topic odd
in this regard. But... Whatever. To each their own and all
of that rot.

Anyway, yes yes, nice guy, beautiful voice, I just wish he wasn't
so namby pamby sometimes. But then again, I'm probably just not
taking into account his sensitivity.

He is gay after all.

STOP THE PRESSES!!!

I AGREE WITH THE W ON SOMETHING!

WHAT!!!???

This can only mean that the shrubster is going insane. I mean,
we already know that I'm insane. Ergo --- See?

Kind of it was only a matter of time though. We ARE both
from Texas. Well, he's at least as much from Texas as I am.

But the Baby Bush had a press conference yesterday and in it
he said something akin to the following (I'm going to paraphrase
of course because my brain is far from being memorex about
anything anyone says (unless, of course, they happen to be dat-
ing me at the time. Then, I'm lethal.)

Anyway, W said that he was in opposition to the 700 mile long
fence that would separate us from Mexico because what we real-
ly need is a piece of legislation that presents a comprehensive so-
lution to the illegal immigration problem. (no shit, he said the
word comprehensive.)

He said that Mexicans come here temporarily to work and they
do jobs that Americans do not want to do and that also, some of
them, some 10-11 million of them in fact, are living here with
their families and have had children here and that to suddenly
just construct a fence and to try to find and throw out 10-11 mil-
lion people from just ONE country with no guest worker program
in place is a little how shall we say, ambitious? foolhardy? silly?
STUPID? Doesn't make much sense?

He didn't even get into what I think and what I feel he knows are
the even larger questions of, how would you fund it? What about
the illegal aliens from Canada, Armenia, Yugoslavia and all of the
other countries who number in the millions themselves? Why
are we picking out one country? What of the cost of manu-
factured goods when we "throw out" the people who are making
things for us (like chicken for example) for $8 an hour when we
can't get our own folks to work for that price. And hey, if you can
find folks to do that, send them to Georgia and Alabama, we could
use the labor.

Boycott Max Factor

Not that I use their tacky cosmetics anyway, but... apparently
SOMEONE has been spreading the cash around because for
SOME reason our "own," oh wait, our own? are we really sure
about that? ostensibly our United States Marshalls (or people
dressed just like them) have arrested Duane "Dog" Chapman,
the bounty hunter who went to Mexico in 2003 to arrest Max
Factor heir Andrew Luster.

Many of you may remember this story, which is rather infa-
mous in the annals of "true crime" lore. Luster had, at the
time, been arrested and was in the midst of a rather lurid trial
on charges that he had, over a period of time, drugged several
young women and then filmed himself whilst raping them in his
home. Since he taped the encounters, he literally handed the
state the evidence against him.

Several of the young women were teenagers during the time
that the crimes occurred. Most had no idea that they had been
violated until word of the case's investigation leaked into the
press and they were contacted by the police and the D.A. and
they were both horrified and traumatized to find both that they
had been assaulted and that it had been captured for posterity
by Luster.

As I recall, Luster maintained a fairly arrogant and smarmy at-
titude during the trial but as the victims testified and the video
tapes were played he could see the reactions of complete disgust
on jurors faces as it became obvious to just what extent he had
damaged the girls. One morning defense counsel came to court
and his client did not show, having fled to Mexico.

Mexican authorities did not seem to be able to help the U.S. auth-
orities to locate Andrew Luster, but the trial continued in his ab-
sence, and he was sentenced to 124 years behind bars.

A manhunt ensued, a serious one. Nobody wanted an Ira Einhorn
type of deal where we waited years for justice.

Enter "THE DOG."

Apparently, although nobody in Mexico knew where Luster
was, our own Duane Chapman, longtime bounty hunter dubbed
"The DOG" for short, had received a tip and had a good lead on
Luster's . And he was just the the right man for the job. An ex-
con himself, Chapman had gone straight and was putting his
knowledge to good use. He was willing to help give people a
fresh start, a second chance - but he could also use his own
knowledge gained on the inside and from hunting down other
inmates to help him find Luster.

The Mexican government, it would appear, was not so happy
to have the DOG's help:

STORY HERE

Well gee whiz. Had Luster been a citizen of MEXICO, the Mexi-
can authorities might have a bit of a better case but hello, he is
a US citizen. He is now back here, where he belongs, IN JAIL.
For a LONG time.

Can't imagine George W. is allowing our US Marshalls to be used
for this purpose, but then again, I can't imagine why he does a lot
of things.

And WHY cooperate with Mexico in arresting someone for bring-
ing back one of our own citizens for the prosecution of a crime he
committed here in the United States? If Scott Peterson had made
it across would have just kissed him goodbye and bid him adieu?
Has our government just gone just completely insane? That was
a rhetorical question just in case anyone was wondering.

Yesterday we found out that we DIDN'T fire on armed insur-
gents for some reason that nobody I know (liberal or conserva-
tive) can quite comprehend even though we could have done
with no loss of life to our own troops or collateral damage to ci
ties or daycares or the like.

Now today, we find out that we've arrested one of our own citi-
zens at the behest of another country so that we can EXTRA-
DITE him to that other (other meaning you know, "foreign")
country so that they can prosecute him for kidnapping one our
citizens. Oh, and by kidnapping I do actually mean retrieving
that citizen from the foreign country and bringing him back to
the United States for the lawful imprisonment for the heinous
crime of which he was legally convicted under United States
law. Guy should get a medal.

P.S. Yes I KNOW. The "DOG" and his ensemble are a little,
well... But anyway. Love 'em. Can't help it. I'm addicted.

Syd's Weekend Film Pick

Loved this film. Under the guise of a documentary, this black co-
medy:

Mail Order Bride

Is so exceptionally well-made that it took me 3/4 of the the film
to realize that it was not, indeed, an actual documentary. Very,
very coy and funny film.

Oh Man

Do you ever just do something really stupid because you're trying
to do something good? But you KNOW at the time that you're
probably being stupid, but you just have no idea until later just
HOW stupid you really were? Yeah. Story of my life. But I'm go-
ing to stop. At least by say... New Year's or so. I'll make it my re-
solution or something.

Agitators

Or as Rodney King might have aptly put it at one point in time...
"Can't we just all get along?"

No but seriously, this is a trend that I've noticed and it disturbs
me. It causes me to question the moral decay and cruelty that ap-
pears to run rampant among more individuals that I'd care to be-
lieve could possibly allow themselves to think and to behave in
this manner. I listen to it on radio shows, see it on chat boards
and talk shows, and in general it just causes me extreme wonder
and, well, dismay.

Or perhaps I'm wrong and I'm just a patsy, a dope who doesn't
"get 'IT'" myself. Perhaps it is all about holding to a certain line
of demarcation come hell or high water. No compassion for your
neighbor and no consideration for what they may or may not
have to go through. Sometimes I feel as though I am incorrect
in my own weakness and these others who seem so sure of them-
selves in their hate are strong.

One thing is certain though, I cannot change how I am. And more
frightening still is the fact that most probably, neither can they.

There are a number of things I do not understand in this world.
I'll begin.

When someone dies, regardless of how you feel about the manner
of their death or whether or not they may have contributed to it in
the manner in which they chose to live their life (extreme sports,
chasing wild animals for the pure love of conservation and nature),
the aftermath of the death is NOT the time to criticize the indivi-
dual, in front of his or her family and friends for safety standards
in which you feel they should have been more observant. No, in-
deed the time is to reach out and comfort the survivors and re-
member that person for the good he or she did.

I bring you the following boards for an example of some of the
hideous things that have been said following Steve Irwin's (The
Croc Guy's) death.

Steve Irwin

It even looks a bit better now because they've cleaned up many
of the worst posts with people saying, of all things, that they were
glad he was dead.

And then there is Ann Coulter. I don't understand why people
can't disagree about political parties with becoming so vehement-
ly hateful and without slinging the worst type of mud and hate back
and forth. If you have a difference of opinion with someone else over
how the country should be run, why must it be SO VICIOUS?

Ms. Coulter

And... I suppose that is all. For now.

Top Ten

If you have any candidates for the MICHAEL JACKSON FACTOR
list, please feel free to list them in response. Here are my favorite
top ten. In order.

1) Michael Jackson
2) Tom Cruise
3) LaToya Jackson
*If it turns out that LaToya and Michael really are the same
person then you know, mea culpa -- Bygones and all that.
4) Paula Abdul
5) Gary Busey
*I actually sat at La Zona Rosa in Austin next to this guy at the
height of his most OBNOXIOUS (I hope) days. He came in
with some blonde hag of a woman, wasted - and yelled at the
poor waitress, "I told you, NO FUCKING SALT ON MY MAR-
GARITA!!!" Then he proceeded to berate everyone in the
place because they couldn't tell him where Willie Nelson and/
or his picnic was (it was that time of year in Austin). Classy
guy.
6) Star Jones
7) Sean Young
*Remember the James Woods & Catwoman debacles?
Well she is still at her bizarre hi-jinks <--- Oh the humiliation.
8) Ok, so I only got to eight and then I thought about putting
Tara Reid but that seemed a little cruel. I think she may
come around if she ever sobers up.


PLUS - I'm starving and the really cool Chinese restaurant
where I always accidentally leave my cell phone behind is just
down the block...

Syd

The "Michael Jackson Factor"

Yes, yes, yours truly, already famous for such famous terms as
the "mini-cruiser" to describe Tom Cruise & Katie's Holmes then
pending arrival is about to coin another phrase.

Listen carefully folks, I like to call this:

The Michael Jackson Factor

The Michael Jackson Factor is a term which shall now be used to
describe any star/entertainer/author/personality who was once
talented and seemingly likable but who has, over a period of
time, become too bizarre and remote for any of us "normal"
(cough) people to consider them to be an actual member of the
human race any longer.

That is, we can see that they appear to breathe and eat and emi-
nate with some features that would appear to make them ani-
mate, but then again, that wax figure they just made of of Brit-
ney Spears does have breasts that heave up and down.

Another key component of THE MICHAEL JACKSON FACTOR
is that the entertainer who succumbs appears to have NO IDEA

ABSOLUTELY NONE WHATSOEVER...

That he/she is a narcissistic, unperceptive, moronic twit.

And While You're annoyed about That Last One

Be Prepared.

Burger King is not the best place in town to get hit by an automo-
bile. That is, not unless you happen to have the $1.04 to pay them
for ice to put on the injury you suffer when the car throws you off
of your bike.

That's right folks. Burger King charged a youngster who had been
hit by a car for ice to put on his injured ankle.

You can email the writer of the story about the incident here, with
your fond words regarding Burger King's policies. I'm going to do
so. And if I'm not assured that they've taken some corporate re-
sponsibility regarding personnel changes and training then that's
right folks! No more CHICKEN FRIES for me!

Jennifer Roy can be reached at 781-398-8005 or jroy@cnc.com
She is the writer of the story for the Daily Tribune.

Are you KIDDING me!!!???

This is the most outrageous incident, particularly in that it was di-
rected at children, that I have had the great disgust to be apprised
of by the news media in quite some time.

BLACK CHILDREN FORCED TO GIVE UP THEIR SEATS

At the front of the bus so that white children can sit there instead.
And where does it happen? Oh yes, Louisiana. Apparently Kanye,
George W. isn't the ONLY one who doesn't "like" black people.

The worst part of this is that the the superintendent of this system
has not immediately canned this employee, apologized and bowed
and scraped his or her way out of the door hoping and praying in
all humility for the immediate forgiveness of not only the children
and families involved, and not only of all black Americans, but of
ALL Americans for this horrifying incident.

Disgraceful beyond all possible reason.

FOR SHAME!

Movie of The Weekend

Ok, My movie of the weekend for this weekend was on IFC chan-
nel this Saturday.

Afraid of the Dark

English stories always seem to be the most brutally psychological-
ly harrowing, and this one also gives us the the titillating addition
of an erotic glimpse of one of the main actresses, blind and in dis-
tress in her lingerie, topless and atop a bouncing play pony whilst
being menaced and photographed, tremblingly displaying her
beautiful breasts (oh yes of course, also bouncing) whilst seeming-
ly helpless to do anything about her situation. Once again, leave it
to the English...

The Penis Pumping Judge

I'm posting this for another blogger who didn't get to read the ori-
ginal:

The Penis Pumping Judge Story

Write 100 Times in a Row

I will never attempt to help the unfortunate and disadvantaged
again. Particularly if they have a history of substance abuse. Be-
cause I am a huge (figuratively of course) moron. So, I've been
trying to help this girl who cleans at our chicken plant. True, she
has a history of DUI and some other alcohol related offenses, how-
ever, she has been passing all of her drug and alcohol tests.

I've been letting her clean my house for extra money (while I'm
there) and she's been doing a great job both there and at work for
several months. The one rule is: nobody else is to know where I
live. She can't drive, so I provide her transportation along with
another supervisor at work.

So... this weekend Dylan and I went to my grandfather's funeral
in Colorado. Friday through Monday. The girl was fine and doing
her job Friday. She was fine Saturday afternoon. Umm then...
Not so much.

She drank every drop of liquor in our house. She brought a crack
dealer over and they had a crack party. Gee, fun. They stole all
of Dylan's electronics and his van and pawned all of his stuff.

This is what we came home to on Tuesday after a hideous funer-
al experience out of town. I must have been Jezebel in a former
life or something.

Update: So yes, I have been Jezebel. Both in this life probably,
upon occasion, and in former lives. However, the girl who stole
my belongings along with her compadre has called me, confessed,
and has recovered most of Dylan's belongings and has told me
where to find the rest.

She also told me where to find his van, which was unharmed. She
will pick up the rest of his belongings, which she pawned, when she
gets her check in the morning. With me of course. I don't trust her
THAT much.

Law enforcement remains another matter altogether. I don't know
how much I can shield her from grand theft auto. It may not be
within my purview to drop those charges, as much as I hate to say
so. She is very remorseful and is doing her best to make us whole.
Which is more, I suppose, than most thieves do?

Some People...

Take themselves VERY seriously.

Check it. Ali G. Interviews Andy Rooney:

Hilarity Ensues as apparently Andy doesn't "Get" that Ali G.
is a comedian. Hello, earth to Andy...

Is it Just Me?

Or was anyone else out there unaware that in addition to the other bad
things that can happen to you on the road whilst driving, we now must
also look out for

LIQUID NITROGEN PIPELINES

What? There are pipelines carrying liquid nitrogen sprinkled around
the country just off the roadway? I mean hell, ANYONE can run off the
road in a second due to falling asleep, turning around to see what a
child is doing, answering the cell phone, EATING in the car... (ok, so
I'm a major offender vis a vis the eating in the car thing, but anyway)

I mean, it happens. People make mistakes. Usually, the worst that
could happen would be hitting a tree near the road. Not that hitting
a tree is a great and healthy thing to do -- but I was just unaware
that you could also be blown to Kingdom Come by random nitrogen ex-
plosions.

Speaking of Breasts...

We are SO repressed in the United States. It would almost be amusing
if it wasn't so absolutely absurd. Apparently, many readers of "Baby
Talk" a magazine about all things baby, had a complete come-apart be-
cause the magazine had the bold effrontery to put a photo of a woman
breastfeeding on its cover.

See Article HERE

Mind you, there is no nipplage involved here, just a baby who appears
to be breastfeeding from a part of the human anatomy that looks, in
the photo, as though it might easily be a knee or the curve of a shoulder,
rather than a female breast. By the way, I break here for a moment to
say that if it IS a breast then I'd just like to shout out a "nice tits" to the
model because the breast in question is rather nice and well-formed.

But that aside, subscribers to the magazine are apparently going ape-
shit about the cover photo. Here are some of the more interesting com-
ments:

From the article:

"I was SHOCKED to see a giant breast on the cover of your magazine,"
one person wrote. "I immediately turned the magazine face down,"
wrote another. "Gross," said a third.

Right. Because we all know that breastfeeding is an unnatural act. Not
only unnatural but apparently, disgusting as well.

Another reader was apparently concerned about the possible moral de-
cay faced by her 13 yr old son if he were to have been exposed the ma-
gazine's cover:

"I shredded it," said Gayle Ash, of Belton, Texas, in a telephone interview.
"A breast is a breast - it's a sexual thing. He didn't need to see that."

Seriously? She shredded it?! She's acting as though someone sent a
Penthouse to her children's daycare for reading time. (I suppose her son
will now be stuck regaling himself with past issues of National Geogra-
phic and Victoria's Secret.)

This same mother, who by the way BREASTFED her own children finally
said what I think is really at the heart of the issue for people who oppose
women's right to breastfeed their children when and where they want to
do so:

"I'm totally supportive of it - I just don't like the flashing," she says. "I
don't want my son or husband to accidentally see a breast they didn't
want to see."

Flashing? I doubt many breastfeeding mothers purposely flash others.
And I doubt her son and husband are ever going to accidentally see a
breast they don't WANT to see and come crying home to her. Because
no matter what they tell her and no matter what posture the moral ma-
jority takes on breastfeeding in public, I've met very few guys who were
'offended' and/or irreparably damaged somehow by the occasionally
flash of some chick's breasts. Otherwise, how do you explain mardi
gras? They don't hand out those mardi gras beads for nothing...

But this is America once again, where for some reason we equate breast-
feeding with sex. Apparently, if a baby is hungry his nursing mother just
needs to wait until she gets back home (where many of these people pro-
bably think she belongs anyway) so that she can crawl into the darkest
room in the deepest portion of her house in order to feed her baby with-
out risking the catastrophic devastation an accidental glimpse of her
"gross" bare bosom would visit upon society at large.

In this country we seem to have many people who are uncomfortable
with their own sexuality and unable to deal well with or to understand
women's roles as both mother and lover in a marriage. For some reason,
not only men, but women also still carry the Puritanical idea that sex is
"bad" or sinful. That there is some form of shame involved. And there-
fore, exposing various parts of the body that are seen as relating to the
sex act and to lovemaking must be "bad" and "shameful" as well.

In many cases it seems really that our discomfort about our own bodies,
or at least certain parts of our bodies is at the root of all of this hype
over breastfeeding and where it should and should not be accomplished.
The saddest part of this article to me is that it is women, MOTHERS in
fact, who have responded to the cover photo with such vehemence. Cal-
ling it gross? Boy, that's a healthy way to bring up your children. Telling
them that certain parts of their anatomy are "gross."

It seems as though women in the United States really are conflicted
about the difference between what is sexual and what is merely caring
for and providing for your child in the natural manner that God intend-
ed. Remember Ms. Ash's quote in the article:

"A breast is a breast - it's a sexual thing."

Apparently, even some nursing mothers just can't seem to get it
straight. Breasts are not just sexual. They are actually fairly utilitar-
ian when you get right down to it. A sort of built-in manufacturer
and reservoir for the very substance that gives new babies the best
and healthiest nutrition available.

In most other countries this hue and cry over breastfeeding (which
by the way goes on far longer in a child's life than it does here in the
West) would be laughable, if not just bizarre.

Breastfeeding is a beautiful act of caring for one's child. It is much more
natural than throwing the kid a b0ttle of similac. What an odd thing
that our shame and disgust over what is a completely natural and
wholesome process compels us to create formulas that mimic mother's
milk when we can produce the real thing. (And I am casting no asper-
sions on women who choose to bottlefeed. There are situations where
breastfeeding may not the right choice for some mothers and babies
and that decision is best left to the woman, her baby and her doctor.)

But by God when my son was a baby and was hungry I fed him. Obvious-
ly, I tried to be discreet in public by covering with a blanket but I'm
sure someone out there probably copped the occasional glance. There
is no way I would have made my infant son wait to be fed until I could
retreat into some dark closet in my home just to appease some repressed
strangers who might have a problem with when and where I chose to
feed my child. The answer to which was - the nearest comfortable place
around when he cried because he needed to be fed.

His health and comfort were far more paramount to me than worrying
about what someone else might consider offensive due to their own dis-
comfort with viewing women as more than just sex objects, and breasts
as more than just an item women put on display to entice men.

Boycotting "Baby Talk" because of a cover that promotes breastfeeding?
How stupid. Get over it America.

I'd love a set of implants but...

Unfortunately, I have scoliosis. You know, the kind that makes my
back look about like the illustration here:

So I've got an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon guy. Not
this one, one at UAB. And I think I may have to have the following
yucky procedure:

Yucky Procedure

Again, not with the doctor at the website above, he just gives a good
illustration of the procedure. Its crazy, you really can't tell my back
is so fucked up if you don't see the x-ray. But the stress of extra lbs
in front probably wouldn't be helpful. So I guess the implants are
going to have to wait.

I am REALLY not looking forward to this surgery but then again
I'm really not looking forward to putting any more stress on the
discs in my back that hurt either.

My parents claim they never noticed the problem when I was grow-
ing up. Really? You never noticed I was turning into a hunchback?
Hmphh!

Things That Annoy Me

Bloggers who must "review" your comment prior to accepting it for
a post. Look, if you REALLY don't like it, just delete the fucker af-
terwards, but are you SO afraid to let the words out on your site for
five seconds that everyone MUST have approval to post to begin
with? Fuck you then. No wonder everyone posts anonymously on
that very BITTER site of yours...
------------------------------------------------------------------

Now on to a few things of more positive nature.
Things that definitely don't annoy me:

This new blog. Pretty cool -

LAUGHING OUT LOUD CRYING INSIDE

or as I prefer to hear her call it;
getthefoutofhere...

Well Done!

Where IS

The sexual content in my blog? My blog promises raunchy lang-
uage and its got plenty of that, but it promises sexual content too
and APPARENTLY there has been far too little of that in my life
lately because I just don't talk about sex very much anymore. I
mean, here. In my blog.

Things to Do when You're Really Bored

Ok, so like - I had NO IDEA up until today why the words on our
profiles were underlined. You know, all of that what's your favor-
ite movie, what's your favorite band, who's your favorite author,
all that stuff. (I know, I'm a little slow sometimes.) See, I fig-
ured it probably led back to the internet, key words to draw in
internet traffic to your blog (which undoubtedly, it is) but I
clicked on one expecting I guess (stupidly) for it to take me back
out onto the internet.

I thought, for some reason, that it would do a search on the term
in question. Say for instance you put in your list of favorite films
"GlennGary Glenn Ross" like I did. I thought it would take you
maybe out onto google for a bunch of references on the film. But
no, it takes you to a list of other blogspot users who put the same
film in their profile. Oh yeah. DUH. Oh COURSE that's what it
does.

Hello. Key words? Yeah. So anyway, things to do when you're
really bored. Look up all the people who put the same films/
bands/authors/etc as you did on your profile and leave a com-
ment on their blog. If you want to act completely insane, make
the comment completely irrelevant to anything they've said.

SOME people obviously do not have enough to keep themselves
occupied. Or they do, but they'd prefer not to do those things
with which they are supposed to be legitimately occupied. You'd
frequently find me in the latter category...

How to Order a Pizza

Hi-Pizza Hut?

Guy's Voice - Pizza Hut!

Umm Yes, I'd Like to get an Order delivered please

Ok, just a sec, I'm trying to get to my little screen...

Yeah, I know all about those little screens

(mutual uncomfortable laugh at my lame joke)

I've got a coupon for a large Pan pizza for 10.99

Ok, looking for the coupon - was that in this week's paper?

No, that was in this week's mailbox, I get all of my news online.

Ok. Umm. Just a sec, I've got to go to the back and see if I can
find it. Ok, I found it. So, what would you like on that.

I'd like to get the Vegetarian lover's pizza. Except, I'd like to add
bacon.

Bacon? But you're a vegetarian!

No I'm not. I'm just getting the vegetarian lover's pizza.

Well, why don't you get a supreme or something. It has meat
and vegetables already.

Nah, I just want the bacon.

Ok. Is that it?

Nope. I also want to add anchovies on one side.

Anchovies? Ahhh... ok.

And then on the other side? I want to add jalapenos.
Oh, and please be sure they bring some of those pepper
packets with the pizza.

Oh. Uhh.. boy. ok. I think... umm...

What?

I'm trying not to vomit over here.

Ahhh man, how do you expect me to eat my pizza after you said
the word "vomit"?

I'm not really sure how you were expecting to eat that pizza in the
first place. I don't really believe anyone would eat that. I think I
want to come over to see and take pictures because nobody's gonna
believe it.

hmmm... Sounds pretty kinky to me. I thought pizza boys only
came over and to your house and took pictures of you in Pent-
house stories.

Man, you are SO going to get me in trouble if they are recording
this call.

Awww, tell the pizza nazi's to lighten up, and by the way - I want
an order of cheesesticks with this. By the way, what's my total?

What's the Strangest Place You've Ever...

Let me just set this story up for you. Because truly, when I read it
I did TRY to give the guy who is the subject matter thereof the be-
nefit of the doubt.

So I thought to myself, you know, what IS the strangest place I've
ever umm...

I mean, you know how it is, you're bored, its late at night and you're
driving across the country on a fourteen hour road trip. There's no-
body else in the car. For whatever reason you start daydreaming
(well. nightdreaming) about some erotic fantasy you've had and you
think, "What's the harm?" Not another car around for miles...

And you can't TELL me that some of you guys haven't ever locked
the door at work sometimes during the middle of the day and done
this in your office during a slow day when nobody else was really
around.

But this guy. This guy really took things way over the top folks.
Way. If he'd been consulting his wee willie horoscope it would have
said, Are you fucking insane?! Hell to the No! Don't even think about
it! I mean, if he'd checked his horoscope before each of the fifteen
or twenty times he did this certain thing you're about to read about.
Because in his case:

REALLY REALLY BAD JUDGEMENT SQUARED X INFINITE

+ the Investment in one Super Ultra Penis Pump

oh yeah, and presiding over a packed court room whilst masturba-
ting with said pump...

Simply do not mix well.

Which is kind of unfair when you think about it because with all of
the attornies around, one should almost be able to have the expec-
tation of being able to get fucked by mere virtue of showing up.

The Canadians Are Coming!

Seriously. This weekend, my newest customers - the latest devo-
tees of the chicken pimp are coming to town. With their wives.
Have I ever mentioned that wives never EVER like me? They
don't. It's because I have NO CLUE what women talk about.
Honestly, I have no clue what men talk about socially either. But
at least I can usually talk to them about either work or sex and
we're pretty safe.

Ok, safe might not be the best word for it but... the conversation
will work. You know? In all actuality though, if I could talk about
anything, I would be discussing various things which absolutely no-
body but me is interested in.

It would go something like this:

Me: Have you ever thought about the parellels between Machia-
velli's "The Prince" and the "The Art of War"? I mean, presumab-
ly Machiavelli didn't really mean everything he said in "The Prince"
He was just trying to get into the good graces of the Borgias. So
he's not really as Machiavellian as we've been led to believe
whereas in "The Art of War"..

Any Guy: That girl that owns that new restaurant's really got a set
huh?

Me: Yeah, I think she used to be a stripper in Switzerland. Umm,
so do you know anything about contract law in the state of Georgia?
I'm trying to research any and all cases I can find on piercing the
corporate veil, especially as it refers to...

Any Guy: Yeah, I'd like to pierce your veil all right

Me: Wanna beer?

So anyway, my friend and business associate in L.A. thought it would
be fun, given my distinct lack of facility in relaxing ANYWAY to in-
vite not only these new Canadian customers AND their wives, but
also, my friend and customer John from Detroit and HIS girlfriend.
Oh, and his brother. So that they could all come up and we could
do business while having a RELAXING fourth of July weekend.
Right.

We've rented a huge pontoon boat so we can all go out on the lake
and get drunk, so that takes care of Sunday. 3 women and 5 guys
on a pontoon and me the only single girl while the wives and girl-
friend sit in the corner and snark about me because I'm single and
blonde. The girls aren't going to want to talk about the corporate
veil EITHER.

Should be FUN FUN FUN

So when you're out on a boat entertaining customers is it permis-
sable to just, you know, pick up a book and read?

Shit. I didn't think so.

So I was Thinking about Sex

Which is encouraging. Because you know, it means everything is
getting back to normal again. But anyway. That aside. I was
thinking about how men... lie. Either that or, I am just WAY
freakier than 99.9% of the guys I've ever been with.

Ok, granted - except for you - Mike Jasper - and also... there was
that one guy in military intelligence. He had some, you know, dif-
ferent fantasies.

Here's what I mean. This is a typical conversation between me
and someone I'm dating.

Me: So... Now that we know each other better, what's your wild-
est sexual fantasy?

Him: (without fail) Me? I don't really have any crazy sexual fan-
tasies. You know, except the usual. Me and two girls (he some
how carries forth in this vein blissfully unaware of my rolling
eyes)

Me: Really? The two girl thing huh? That's so... original. Noth-
ing else?

Him: Nope. Can't think of anything.

ooo-k. the internet and phone sex lines are filling up with consum-
ers talking about and downloading smut of the filthiest kinds but
my guys only think about pure-d vanilla straightforward sex.
Right.

Maybe I just need to get out of Alabama...

A Moment In the Life of Me...

Email from my mom, 9:42 pm...

"hi sweetie,

Dylan asked me to email you and tell you that you left your phone
at the Chinese restaurant. I called, the lady still has it and does not
know fluent english. Nor did she know how to reach you. I told her
I would email you.

love, mama"

Apparently, I live and die by the mercy and grace of my family and
friends. Dylan, in Austin with his father for a month, realized that I
had left my phone (my only means of communication since we only
have a dedicated line for our burglar alarm and don't use a home
phone) at the restaurant when he tried to call a moment ago. Be-
ing the bright child he is, he called my MOTHER and told on me
(just kidding) had her email me so that I could go pick the bloody
thing up before the restaurant closes. They did all of this from
1200 miles away.

And yes, I DO feel incompetent. I'd dwell on it more, but I have to
get to China One by 10 pm ;)~

Awww.... For Fuck's Sake

Ok, I am going to blog HERE about the cool new thing Ms. Scarlett
is doing because ummm... I can't do it on her blog. (I have lang-
uage issues) and uh... I might disparage certain of the designers
openly and rather err... loudly at times. I mean, I haven't yet, but..
I might. LOL but anyway folks, go check her out, she is famous.

Always well put together and cool as cucumber, Scarlett is blogging
Bravo's "Project Runway," - Check it out! She has done a marvel-
ous job, along with her two compatriots, Laura K., and T-bone:

BLOGGING PROJECT RUNWAY

And keep it nice, site rules: no cursing, no disparaging the design-
ers in the show (some of their parents actually read the site!)

Nice work Charlotte!
P.S. I am CRUSHED! I was rooting for Santino! (Go Figure)

KATIE HOLMES - Are You Listening?

Listen Girlfriend,

Get yourself one of those extremely good, high-priced Hollywood
divorce lawyers. You know, one who has too much money to be
afraid of those moonies! err.. sorry, Scientologists. I know, I know,
rumor has it that you signed your kid and Tom's fortune away in
one of those stupid pre-nups. Something about how you have to
stay married to him for ten years or you'll walk away with nothing-
including the kid.

Well, I don't know if that's true or not, but here's a hint. HE
NEVER STAYS MARRIED TO ANYONE for ten years. Yeah,
how about that. But listen honey, I think I have a way out for
you. I was reading up on child support law. You know, for my
own purposes? And I came across this little tidbit I thought
might help you out so I'm passing it along. Here it is:

About that Damn Pre-nup

See? So get yourself a great attorney and an even better judge
and you might be able to at least walk away from this entire
ordeal with your kid. Because those last photos we saw of you
sweetie? You weren't looking so hot.

Doc's Political Parlor

So, you know every once in a while I'll run across a blog I particu-
larly like and I will take the time to foist it upon everyone else.
So once again, here goes:

Doc's Political Parlor
& Home of Lawn Mower Repair

Now, this site will likely be of much greater interest to those of
you who live in Alabama. Let me rephrase. If by chance, some-
one happens to come along who by coincidence lives in Alabama,
reads my blog AND actually happens to have internet access, then
my friend, the above listed blog is for YOU.

Should you not belong to that particular trifecta, you might still
enjoy it as an informative and entertaining political commentary.

Golf Carts & Other Deadly Weapons

So after an bone-achingly busy day at work (wait, did I say after?)

What I mean is, while I sit here eating my enchiladas - brought into
the chicken plant for our largely latino labor force (they are authen-
tic and delicious by the way {the enchiladas I mean, not the labor
force} and no - I do NOT want to know what's in them {again, refer-
ring to the enchiladas there}) during one of the few breaks I've
managed to catch today, I've been catching up on the news.

Allow me to share with you a somewhat humorous story:

Golf Carts & Other Deadly Weapons

Yeah I know, that's not REALLY the name of the news story - but
if I'd written it, that's what I would have called it.

I mean truly, isn't dui based on the fact that if you are drunk and
behind the wheel you run the risk of causing property damage and/
or vehicular homicide? Can you really do all of that in a golf cart?
Shouldn't the golf cart folks get a P.I. and a ride home for the night
- or if they are really being an ass, a trip to the pokey to cool off til
the next morning? Has anyone ever been killed or maimed by a
drunken golf cart driver run amok?

Or perhaps do the police in Peachtree City have not quite enough
to do...

Workblogging

You know, I've long subscribed to the idea that you draw to your-
self the same levels of sanity, drama, kindness, etc as you yourself
possess. Or I suppose I could more effectively sum it up by saying,
"karma," but too many people use that word to convey some type
of cosmic punishment, and that is not at all what I am trying to say.

I espouse the idea that if you are finding yourself in relationships
with psychos over and over again or if you constantly are con-
stantly underrappreciated by all of your friends, these are people
whom you are drawing to yourself because of your own state of
emotional health (or lack thereof) - and when I say you I mean
you and me. When you have matured or grown emotionally, you
will either attract different people OR the same people will re-
spond to you differently.

So anyway. I looked around at my work environment this week,
none of which I can blog about, and I although I can't share any
details, I did find a good quote which seemed highly appropriate
to the situation and pretty much describes how I feel:

"How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice. 'You must be,' said the
Cat, 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"

Alice in Wonderland

Goodbye Bellsouth & AT&T

Hi NetWit, I am doing ok. I had my last surgery that I have to have
about 2 1/2 weeks ago. It was supposed to be for a hernia but then
it turned out I had twins. You know, one on each side? LOL So I've
been in PAIN. But still working a lot. I am hoping I haven't blown
out one side by going back to work and lifting chicken samples and
whatnot too soon.

At any rate, I have decided that since Bellsouth and AT&T are al-
ready receiving pay for my phone service and numbers from the gov-
ernment, they don't really need mine on top of it. Kudos to Qwest for
having some balls and just SAYING NO to giving out our private in-
formation.

I have cancelled my AT&T long distance and cut all of my bellsouth
services except for the basic line I need for my burglar alarm. I'll
figure out how to hook up with Qwest for cell service.

The Haunting

Oh YES, I forgot to report that in last week of February/First
week of March when I was losing my most important poten-
tial new account whilst hobbling around airports on a broken
foot, anemic as all get out on the epic week and a half long
string of trips I made from Ohio to California to Texas and
then back to Alabama again... (it's harder adjusting to the cul-
ture shock on the way back in than it is to the time zones by
the way)

Anyway, during that week, on one of the assorted airlines on
which I traveled, a male flight attendant said something to me
that used to be the absolute bane of my existence. Now that I
am getting umm... OLDER... I found that I was actually kind of
a little, well... sorta weirdly pleased to hear it. Are you ready?

He said, "I had Christina Applegate in first class last week, and
I'm sure you've heard this before, but Oh My God! You look
Just like her!"

Now see, there was a time when that used to bug the hell out
of me. I mean, she was the tart in Married with Children. I
didn't want to look like HER. Now that I just turned 39, I'm
pretty fucking happy that somebody still thinks I look like
the tart in Married with Children. Ok, granted, he thinks I
look like her now... but anyway.

See? It's all in how you look at things. I always tell people
that all they really need to do is slow down and get a little per-
spective...

Ok - So About Me

I mean, like in case you want to know or whatever. Let's see. I've
been as usual, high on lifedrugs. Albeit legal drugs. Re-
lated, of course, to my most recent surgery.

As it happens, my brilliant doc made me go off of procrit for six
weeks as an experiment (read - passive aggressive punishment)
and much as I predicted, my red blood count plummeted to trans-
fusion levels.

This became embarrassing to him because I was due up for the
LAST two (hopefully) surgeries that I need. That we know of
at any rate. So... he let me go back on them about three weeks
ago and I had the first surgery - a repair on my deviated septum
along with turbinate repairs. I can already tell a HUGE difference
in my breathing and I am guardedly hopeful that it may help with
my migraines. Which would then leave me with having to break
a rather long and err.... embedded narcotics habit. But worth it,
doncha think?

Ok, so I am two weeks post-op. In about another two weeks I'll
have a hernia repair. (They let me go ahead with the septoplasty
because one loses very little blood during this type of surgery).
In another couple of weeks I should have rebuilt my red blood
cell supply on procrit. I also have plans to see a really good hema-
tologist at UAB in Birminingham. So there you have it. My medi-
cal life.

In the interim, I have been flying all over God and everywhere
selling chicken. There have been some great sales this year, how-
ever, that is tempered by losses we are still facing from last year's
bad buys and huge inventories. In other words, my finances are
still in, you know, less than happy shape. Hence my absence from
the blog. I've been sick, tired and working.

I am happy to report that on my liver, I only have to repeat the
catscan to confirm that the masses (there are three) haven't
grown. If they haven't, then I have a benign condition for which
I will not need further surgery and which will not cause me health
problems. I should have that done in the next month or so.

Dylan is at his junior prom tonight and he looked very handsome.
He is such a great kid. Hopefully, he'll get a job soon. He needs to
start paying some of his insurance. He's an expensive kid. LOL
He is a great kid though. A very great kid.

So that's it. Consider yourselves UPDATED. ;) And there you
have it.

Ok, So I HAD to Post This

Because its just SO DAMN CUTE!

I mean, if you like hamsters, like I like hamsters... (you kind of
have to sing that first line like a show tune and imagine people
dancing to it) and no, I'm not inferring anything about liking
them in that gerbiling kind of sense.

That's just... well... umm... hamster cruelty. And yes, you heard
that coming from me, ladies and gentlemen, the girl who eats
lamb and veal wantonly and with great abandon. And possibly
in the middle of orgies, although THAT I can assure you is just
an unconfirmed rumor begun my detractors and has absolutely
no very little if any basis in the truth and never did.

Enough with the blathering and on with the cute-as-pie, estrogen
inducing, ovary follicle readying video clip:

The Hamster/Cookie Video

Mini-Cruiser Alert

So apparently we're about to be faced with the arrival of Tom's
Mini-Me.

Think Katie can handle the Silent Birth?

Ok, So I was Like

or rather, I am like - watching this special on country music. And
I was just realizing that country music fans are SUPER conserva-
tive. I mean, you can really get in trouble as a country Artist -
especially as a FEMALE country artist (for of course, that is what
the special is ABOUT - female country artists, and the complete
raw fucking deal they've gotten over the years, all of you male
bastards out there. Yep. I'll bet you had no idea you were keep-
ing the female crooners down did ya? Well shame on you! Say
500 Hail Mary's. I mean right now! I don't care that you're Jew-
ish, do it anyway!) Just kidding.

Anyway. Seriously. I had nooooooooo fucking idea that the en-
tire system of country music and radio stations and fan bases and
whatnot was so insular and incredibley backwards. It's really bi-
zarre. It's like having to watch the country elect Bush 100 times
in a row or something. Awww... don't get mad now Benny, but he
is REALLY DOWN in the polls and you know it. Ok, enough about
that. It is actually kind of an interesting little special on A&E. It's
called - are you ready for this?

Hairdo's & Heartaches

What? It IS! But actually, I really admire the women of country
music. They all seem really... I don't know. Tough. And not many
of them die of heroin overdoses, which is always sort of a plus, not
to mention a damn site better than you can say for the women of
rock.

Anyway, you can really get in trouble for saying or doing or even
for recording the wrong thing. Apparently, one woman recorded
a song called Unwed Fathers or something like that in the 80's
and radio stations refused to play it. Another woman recorded a
song about dating younger men and country radio stations refused
to play it. They were both deemed "too controversial."
Anyway...

Wouldn't It Be Cool

If the Powerball winner was Bill Gates and... since HE didn't need
the money, he bought a huge parcel of land, or alternately, several
small parcels - and moved those thousands of mobile homes pur-
chased with our TAX $$ and sinking ever further into the mud in
"whereveritis" (Arkansas)? as a big F-U to to the gov for wasting
our money in the first place.

Like, with no further plan in mind. (like the g0v ever plans ahead)
Wouldn't that be cool?

Because I would love to help so many of those families waiting for
homes and this is just so unacceptable. It's just a furtherance of the
first FEMA fiasco. Our tax dollas stagnating. AGAIN.

A Repost of My Favorite Post

A Quiz From Ranger Tom

Ranger Tom's Quiz

Seven things you plan to do before you die

1. Write a book
2. Clean my house.
I mean, by myself, as opposed to beggingother people to
do it and then paying them. Oh fuck it. Life'stoo short.
Scratch that one. I'll keep paying.
2. Wake up on time. Oh fuck it, Again, life's too short.
3. Enhance my ummm... top shelf... I've always wanted a
reallystellar rack.
4. Visit every country in the world at least once
(So far I've onlybeen to the US, Canada and Mexico so I've
got a fair amount togo.)
5. Learn several languages well, Spanish and French much
much much better, and learn Russian, Chinese and Japanese.
Just be-cause I think it would be cool to know them.
6. Visit the remaining states in the U.S. that I haven't seen
(not too many of those to go)
7. Stick pins in my child until he gives me grandchildren
(he's only17 1/2, so I'll give him 6-8 years or so before I ex=
pect anythingalong those lines.
8. Spend the night at the Myrtles plantation in Louisiana
(itshaunted you know.)
9. Become better organized. This wouldn't take much. I mean,
ANY steps towards this end would be better than nothing.

Seven things you can already do

1. Shoot a gun well (hey, I'm from Texas)
2. Convince people that it really WOULD be easier to do things
my way.
3. Say what I mean and mean what I say
4. Raise a kid
5. Tell the truth. Ok wait, I think I covered that on 3
.6. Sell stuff
7. Read. I read really really fast, and its one of my favorite things
to do.
8. Empathize. Sometimes I do this a little bit too well.

Seven things you can't do

1. Let things go when I should.
2. Refrain from "taking things personally." (Whatever the hell
THAT means.)
3. Realize that not EVERYTHING, (say, the mideast peace crisis
for example), is my fault.
4. Bob for apples and actually come up with said object.
5. Stop being a perfectionist.
6. Have a boyfriend for longer than a year at a time without
fucking it up.
7. Swim with sharks without getting hurt.
8. Follow the rules and refrain from listing more than 7 things.

Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex

1. Intelligence
2. Humor
3. Self Confidence
4. Ambition
5. Zaniness
6. Kindness
7. Similarities or Affinity

Seven things you say most

1. And there you have it
2. So here's the deal (a la H. Ross Perot)
3. So the fuck what
4. I don't give a shit
5. What the fuck?
6. How the hell? (You'll note that this is very closely akin
to "What the fuck?")
7. And there it is (Also close to "And there you have it."
(Yeah, so I do a lot of fucking repeats, so sue me)

Seven people you want to take this quiz...

Ok, I took the quiz, so beyond that, I don't give a shit
who else takes it. So there, fuck it. Oh yeah, add that
to the last one, that's another thing I say, FUCK IT.
Oh and another one,"So There." "Go Figure." And, "I
don't give a shit." And thereyou have it.