Friday Escape

Happy Friday from Gracie and Griffin.

This is why I don't skinny dip.

An elderly man in Louisiana had owned a large farm for several years.

He had a large pond in the back. It was properly shaped for swimming, so he fixed it up nicely with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees.

One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while, and look it over.

He grabbed a five-gallon bucket, to bring back some fruit.

As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee.

As he came closer, he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond.

He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end.

One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave!"

The old man frowned, "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked, or make you get out of the pond naked."

Holding the bucket up he said, "I'm here to feed the alligator..."

Some old men can still think fast.

Yes, Coffeypot....this reminded me of you.  

My Saturday Night Date

OK, this is technically an old story, and I've referred to it several times here when talking about the quality of fish in the dating pool.

But today I found an old email where I relayed this story to my boss when it happened, and it made me laugh so I thought I'd share it with you guys.

This was in May 2006, 8 months after my divorce and my first foray back into the dating world. God help me.

So I went out to dinner with Marc on Saturday night. He's the guy I was supposed to go out with Thursday...the dude who said he brought me Chanel perfume from Paris????

This one will kill you.  Don your crash helmet.

So something tells me that I really don't want to go out with him, call it intuition or whatever. So I make sure he knows that this is going to be a quick dinner at PF Changs and that's it.

I get there, walk up and there he stands. He's 50...looks 65, has man boobs and old breath! Oy vey. It is clear that the pictures he has on his dating profile were taking a loooooooooooooooong time ago, and that NFL linebacker's body he has? Uh yeah, if the linebacker is a Mack truck. A very overweight truck.

Look, I'm not Twiggy, but at least I post accurate pictures of myself. This guy was the equivalent of pretending to be George Clooney and showing up as Chris Farley.

Anyway, we go into the restaurant, and we get seated. He takes his coat off...and he's wearing suspenders. Now I know it's going to be a very long dinner...

Proceeds to spend the next hour and a half telling me how beautiful I am (which is nice to hear but when it comes out of a dude's mouth literally every other sentence and you spend an hour saying nothing but "Oh, thank you." "Thanks, that's nice" "Oh, thanks" because he's overdosing you with the compliments, it's not all that fun, trust me!)

He tells me he rarely drinks, and then proceeds to drink 4 double Grey Goose Vodka's on the rocks. Evidently "rarely drinks" = rarely leaves any in the bottle.

So after explaining everything on the menu to me as though I was incapable of reading it, he orders more food than 4 people could eat, let alone two. I had one of the 4 spring roll appetizers, one of the 4 dumpling appetizers, and about two of my vegetarian lettuce wraps (the entree makes about 6)...and he ate his entree, all the rest of the appetizers, AND finished off mine!

And for the coup de grace....he starts telling me how his 2nd marriage ended because she had an affair with their best friend (they had another couple as best friends and his wife and the other husband hooked up), meanwhile he was living in Amsterdam and owned a coffee shop, so the guy she had the affair with comes over and wants to buy a big quantity of hash which Marc would not sell him. So the guy buys it elsewhere, gets busted trying to get it back into the States, implicates Marc as the ringleader and Marc's wife corroborates the story....and Marc ends up serving 2 years in a federal prison here for conspiracy to import!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes folks, I had dinner with a felon. And he did not even bring the perfume.

At this point, I'm sitting at the table feeling as though I might be on the show "Punk'd" and am looking around the restaurant for Ashton Kutcher!

Then, Marc orders dessert in an effort to drag the date out as long as possible. Of course, he ate it all other than the 1 bite he insisted I take. At this point, I had no appetite anyway!

He starts asking me about the "Ex", and in an effort to try and look as undesirable as I can, I tell him I am still in love with my husband and we still see each other and now I have serious trust issues with any man and really need to NOT date for awhile...

Didn't phase him.

Now he's saying all this crap about how incredible I am (Oh, thank you...), how he wants to get to know me better (Oh God HELP), how we can travel together and he will be 100% accountable to me so I don't ever have to worry about being cheated on again....and then he leans over the table and says "If we weren't in a restaurant, I would be kissing you so deeply right now..."

Check please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Once outside, he insisted on walking me to my car, and I insisted that he not. He tried to kiss me goodbye and I did a quick head turn and it landed on my ear, and then you have never seen a girl run so fast in high heels in your life. I'm like running away from him to get to my car and he's running behind me saying "When can I see you again????"

Oh dear Lord. I do not belong in the dating pool!

There are reasons why I have given up swimming, kids.

Lost, Tazed and Confused.

Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!' What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.. .?

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . .. . . . . .

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?

IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling.

Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!

P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

If you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!

Well hot damn, butter my biscuits, and who'da thunk?!

Look at that little green number three items down on the right side of my blog.

I've had over 100,000 blog hits.

Shut up!!!

That's kind of exciting to me! And I just put that on there a year ago so....sweet!

In other news....

Suzanne's surgery went very well. The doctors got everything they anticipated getting (which was the active tumors) and it's my understanding they are very pleased with how it went and what her prognosis is from here on out.

Thank you all for your collective good thoughts and prayers for her.

Now, whoever keeps coming back here a hundred times a day and driving that little green number up higher....your check's in the mail.

Another shout out for the good thoughts....

You guys might remember this post from last month.

It was about my friend Suzanne and her potentially life saving, at the very least life extending, surgery.

Well, today is the day.

I ask you guys once again to keep her in your collective thoughts and prayers today for a successful surgery. The hope is that the liver resection gets all the cancer, and she will go on to live a long and happy life.

As I told her yesterday, this is her game changer...the miracle we've all prayed for, for the past seven years. And she needs to go kick that surgery's ass today so we can get on with the business of growing old together.

Go get 'em, Suz. I love you, and I'll see you tomorrow. Save some pain killers for me, will ya?

The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia

Dixie Carter, aka Julia Sugarbaker, passed away this weekend.

My inner gay man mourns.

If I was from the South, I'd have been Julie Sugarbaker. I'm just sayin.

This is one of my favorite "rants" of all time.



Rest in peace, Ms. Carter.

I need to stop. Soon. OK maybe not yet.

I'm itching for another tattoo.

I know, I know, I just got one in February.

And I have four now.

But I want another one. Two more, actually.

So you know I want one on my foot, right? Well, a couple of weeks ago I was cleaning my garage out, and found a "book" that the guests at my wedding shower (in 2003, mind you) wrote words of marital advice in.

One of those guests was, of course, my sister Linda, who died a few months after I got married.

Part of her advice said "Live life, love, and be happy".  

And that's what I plan to have tattooed on my foot, in her handwriting. I think that will be amazing to have some of her last words of advice to me, her little sister, in her own writing, for the rest of my life.

I also want a tattoo on the inside of my left wrist.  I'm still thinking I want this puzzle piece....

I love that, and it has meaning for a couple of reasons, such as, looking for my "missing piece", and this blog of course. Even when I no longer write it (still waiting on that offer of $60k for it, peeps. C'mon....who's got the extra cash?) I will always remember the many friends I met here and the joy it brought me to be part of this crazy blog world.

I'm trying to fight off the urge, but I feel a call to Sweet Baby Octane and the only man who ever touches my body these days, D Willy, coming on.

Maybe next week. Gotta wait on flip flop weather to get the foot one anyway.

OK seriously....who does this????

Let me preface this blog post with a disclaimer....

I love my friends dearly. I'm blessed to have several "best best best closer than sisters" friends who I thank God for every day.

Except this morning at 5:50am when one of them texted me.

TWICE.

I could have cheerfully choked her. "I woke you up?" YES. What else would I be doing at that time of the morning besides sleeping!?!?!?!?!?!?! I don't get up until 7:30am. And this morning was one of those dark, rainy mornings that you just want to stay curled up under the covers, snoozing away.

Also, it should be noted that once I am awake, I rarely am able to go back to sleep. I actually started to drift back off at 7:15, just in time for my alarm to go off fifteen minutes later. Sigh.

Seriously, do you text people at ridiculous hours? Because I don't. Unless something is on fire or someone died, you won't hear from me until a reasonable time. Let's say 8am during the week, and 9am on weekends.

One of my other friends used to send me joke texts at 7am when she'd get up on Saturday morning and let her dog out. She's one of those people that can crawl back into bed and go right back to sleep.

I'm not. And my phone sits right on my nightstand so I hear the little text message sound and it wakes me right up. So I put a stop to her early morning texts right away.

People, I am very grumpy when my beauty sleep is interrupted unnecessarily. Thus today's blog post!

So this is my Public Service Announcement.

Before you text...think. Just because you're awake doesn't mean everyone else is.

You're welcome.

PS. I love ya Cher, but if you text me at that time again, I'm going to drive down there and smash your phone.

I think this speaks for itself.

I'm the proud parent of a fall 2010 University of Cincinnati student.

Go Bearcats!!!!

And most of all, congratulations, Jordan. I'm so proud of you.

Better late than never

That's right, I missed my own Blogoversary.

Geesh.

I started this blog April 3, 2008....hard to believe I've been writing it for two years already.

Time flies when you're spewing ridiculous facts about your life to the world!

In two years, I've written 717 posts.

I have 413 followers.

I've had 98,780 hits on my site.

Last year I averaged 7,418 hits a month.

I even have paid advertisers now. Yay!

And I've had visitors from countries I've never even heard of. It's kind of bizarre to think about how far reaching our little blogs can be.

So thanks to all of you for coming along on this ride with me! When I started my blog, it was meant to be my own accountability for losing weight. Thankfully, two years and 35 lbs later, I feel I have partially accomplished that goal! Now I'm back on the Weight Watchers Wagon and attempting to lose the other 40 lbs, so I guess that assures me that I need to continue blogging!!!

Besides, who else am I gonna bitch about turning 50 to next year, besides you guys?

(PS...Taking Jordan to Cincinnati today to visit UC, and see where my kid is planning to live in the fall!)

Rich and blonde. Who am I, Paris Hilton?

Check out that little link on the top right. Evidently my blog is worth $60 grand. Anyone wanna buy it? C'mon, I'll make you a deal. $50k and I'll even keep writing it for you.

I'll take payments.

In other news....

I'll let you know if blondes reallly do have more fun.

If someone buys my blog for $50k, consider me as having the time of my life!

That's hot.

I Need A Vacation...Part Two.

If I can direct your attention to the right of my blog, you will see a countdown clock.

Yes, my friends, I'm headed back to Sin City.

Back to the land of all beach and no ocean. But there are palm trees. And hot sun. And...pools.

Leaving May 16th, staying at Planet Hollywood where all the cool kids stay and coming back May 22nd. And hopefully spending some time with my BFF the fabulous Linda Lou while I'm out there.

I'm ready for a vacation. Mama needs her cocktails by the pool.

In other news, not so good...

My ex's uncle passed away last night. Makes me very sad. He was a very sweet, hilarious man (think Benny Hill not only in looks but personality) and he will be greatly missed. I'll be heading to Canada next week for the funeral.

Also next week, on Tuesday I'm taking Jordan to the University of Cincinnati so we can meet with advisors and stuff about him starting in the fall. I've never been to the campus so I'm excited to see it, and see where my baby will be living for the next four years. (Shut up, I'm ignoring the fact that he isn't going to be living with me. It's not denial, I'm just selective about the reality I accept.)

Hope you all have a fabulous Easter. Anybody got big plans?

Don't mess with my food, people.

Designer fruit? Seriously?

From an ABC news story....

You may have heard of the pluot and the grapple, but now...the pineberry? A summer berry that looks like a white strawberry but tastes like a pineapple is going on sale in the United Kingdom this spring.

The pineberry is white, covered with red seeds and has the same genetic make-up as a strawberry, but has the taste and smell of a pineapple.

Pineberry The British supermarket chain Waitrose will sell the pineberries in 45 stores across the UK for the next five weeks while they are in season.

“Designer fruit” have gained popularity in the last decade, and in the United States alone it has become a $100 million business. These fruits are a product of cross-breeding, not genetic engineering.

The pineberry originated in South America as a wild variety of strawberry, and seven years ago Dutch farmers began growing the fruit commercially in glasshouses. The fruit turns from green to white with dark red seeds when ripe.

If my beloved watermelon turns yellow and becomes a waternana, we're gonna have a problem, folks.

Even sunshine can make me feel dirty.

Apparently they didn't consider the sun when designing this wall...

Anyone want to take a guess where this wall is located?

St. Peter's Basilica in Rome.

Now that's funny--I don't care who you are.

I need it bad. Really, really bad.

Man, do I need a vacation. Somewhere warm. Tropical. White sand, hot sun, and hotter cabana boys.

Mama needs a cocktail at the ocean. 

I really need to get something scheduled so I have it to look forward to, when I am dragging my tired, sorry ass out of bed on Monday mornings.

Seriously, why are Monday's so hard to get up and moving?  I was dragging this morning, and it's not like I was up late.  11:30 maybe.  But 7:30am came awfully fast for me.  I was happily snoozing when my alarm so rudely interrupted me.

Was off Thursday and Friday tending to my patient. Unfortunately he did not drool nor engage in humorous activity while drugged, so I don't have pictures or videos to share. Damn kid, being an adult about things. WTF?

Actually had a great weekend. Just hung out doing some stuff with a friend, nothing newsworthy to report but it was just a nice weekend. Reminded me of some good old days.  Didn't know those still existed for us.

Which one of you out there is good at marketing? I need to figure out how to market my real estate business and start making some damn decent income from it. And I know zip about marketing. Help me! Give me some ideas!

I've got nothing else today. Gotta shake the beige feeling I woke up with. Where's my technicolor attitude?

Really, Ohio?

Is this necessary?



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I have one word for you, son.....

Vicodin.

Jordan is having his wisdom teeth removed today, and as most of us know who have had this done....it's not that much fun.

Translation: Sucks a big one.

I've never been a fan of going to the dentist, and therefore my oral surgeon and I were not the best of friends. After I had my wisdom teeth removed, my face was twice it's size and bruised, and I couldn't move my mouth for a week.

Fortunately that was 30 years ago, and technology has advanced since then.

Regardless, Jordan's oral surgeon has given him a Vicodin prescription, some sort of steriod to keep the swelling down, and an antibiotic to ward off infection.

I'm off work today to take care of him, but I'll be back tomorrow, maybe even with a few pictures snapped while he's sleeping, just to annoy the crap out of him. I'll keep him drugged up and maybe even video him if he's rambling incoherently, just for the fun of it.

I probably just lost Mother of the Year with that statement. Sigh.

So far, so good. 49 is a winner!

My birthday was really great yesterday. Thank you for all of your good wishes and thoughts. And your many "fuck beige" comments. LOL

I had a cazillion birthday comments on Facebook, that was fun. Who knew I had so many friends? Some of which I don't even know?

And my son, who we all know is The Best Kid Ever, sent me these:

Then, if that wasn't enough, he organized a surprise party for me at one of my favorite restaurants with my sisters and some very dear friends. AND he bought my dinner AND made me drink two glasses of wine in the process. LOL

This whole thing with him being an adult and having his own income is working out really well for me now! Thanks, buddy, for taking care of your momma and giving her a wonderful birthday. I did something right in raising you!

And then the topper to my birthday though, was to get the news from my dear friend Sue (you might remember her story in this post) that she is able to have the surgery she needs to keep the liver cancer at bay and give her some very precious time with her family. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your prayers and collective good thoughts for her. It worked!!!!!

So far, 49 is starting out really well. Wouldn't it be great if that was the worst day I'll have this year? That's something to hope for, isn't it?

49 And Beige? Oh, I don't think so!

It's official.

I'm 49 today.

Or as I prefer to think of it....thirty nineteen.

Funny to think it's been almost two years already that I started this blog.

Way back when I was 47 and starting over.

Starting over from a very painful divorce.

Starting over as a shark bait (yes, I'm channeling my inner Jimmy Buffet...)

Can't you feel 'em circlin' honey?
Can't you feel 'em swimmin' around?
You got fins to the left, fins to the right,
And you're the only bait in town.

The dating pool was a little scary, the few times I dipped my toe into it over the past few years. Part of that has been my fault, for as much as I've bitched about not meeting the kind of guy I'm looking for, truth is that I haven't been all that attentive when I have. 

Maybe that really isn't my priority after all.

Maybe I'm just looking for excitement in all the wrong places.

I've been talking with one of my friends recently about our lives, and how so often we feel "beige". Not unhappy, not happy. Just....beige.

I don't want to live life as a neutral shade during this second half of mine.

I want to be a vibrant color!

I want to be red! Or hot pink!

And that's my goal for my 49th year. (OK technically I think today starts my 50th year doesn't it? Ugh that hurt just typing it!)

I'm not going to be 49 and Beige.

I REFUSE.

I'm ready to find what makes me tick. What I'm passionate about. Figure out what brings me joy and fills me with light.  (Aside from my kid, that goes without saying that he has been the single best thing about my 48 years of life, or at least the last 19 of them)

I'm ready to wake up every day with an abundance of great things to choose from, to finally create the life I've been "waiting" for all this time..

Yes, waiting.

I feel like I've spent 48 years waiting for an exciting life to start. 

Well guess what, folks.

It starts today.

I'm not 49 and Beige. I never will be, dammit.

I'm 49 and I'm fucking RED HOT.

My future's so bright we all need Gucci shades.

Thanks for being along on this ride with me the past couple of years. Stay tuned, because this year I plan to have lots of new and exciting things to tell you.

Fuck beige.

Finally....

Got the Monte up and running after 5 years of having the engine torn apart.

Man, I've missed it.




Isn't she sweet? Wish I'd gotten her in the divorce!!!!

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I need your collective good thoughts.

You guys know I'm not often "serious" on my blog.

But today, I'm going to ask you for your collective good thoughts and prayers.

It's not for me, but for one of my closest and oldest friends, Sue. We've been thisclose for 30 years now, and have been through it ALL together.

And believe me when I say "all", I mean all! Oh, the stories I could tell....the blackmail we have on each other.

Anyway....

Seven years ago, she was diagnosed with liver cancer. And for those seven years now, it's been "inactive", I guess that's the best way to describe it. No tumor growths, nothing to be too overwhelmed about. She's always known it was there, but as long as tumor markers and tests came back okay, she went on with her life like nothing was wrong.

Now it's become active.

Without putting too much of her personal information on here, the bottom line is that she *may* be approved for a surgery that could keep this at bay for another five years. The hope is that it buys her more time for our amazing cancer researchers to find a cure. She's had all the testing, and she finds out Monday if she is a surgery candidate or not.

So I am asking all 411 of my followers to say a collective prayer for her this weekend. Put those good thoughts out in the Universe that she is able to have this surgery, and buy herself and her family some very precious time.

We vowed many years ago to grow old together, and be hitting on old men in the nursing home after we've outlived our husbands.

I fully intend to hold her to this.

I'm not uber religious but I do believe in the power of prayer. And that our thoughts become actions and deeds. So please keep her in your thoughts this weekend, and let's make this surgery happen.

Thanks, you guys. I have the best followers ever.

Haven't had any of these for awhile....

From my favorite website, Texts From Last Night

(816): They're sharing a mixed drink at a bar with straws...its like a disney movie with booze

(925): While I was dancing with him in my foil dress he said, "You're like a Chipotle burrito. Don't worry, that's the best complement you could get from me."

(732): i need to break up with him. i realized this while i was making a mental grocery list while we were having sex. this is not the first time i've done that.

(832): The last two calls in my phone are dominos and 911. I'm not sure how my night went.

(760): You did not just play the dead husband card again.

(215): How do I put "special brownies" into Weight Watchers?

(201): I just had to take a drug test for my new job. I should have asked them if they could tell me if I were pregnant or not while they were at it and save me the guesswork.

(614): When I got to his place, he served wine and cheese and made me sit on the balcony while he read his poetry to me. He cockblocked himself.

(310): based on the size of her vibrator, i'm going to be a huge disappointment

(610): At what point last night did I start ordering doubles?
(856): Right after we had the just friends talk..

(760): so i hit rock bottom, god threw me a shovel. i continued to dig.

(610): Just saw an old man buy two cases of keystone light, a case of milwaukee's best and a case of icehouse. Degenerate alcoholic or senior citizen of the year?
(1-610): I'm so glad i pay social security

(951): So I just googled the ten commandments... We’re fucked.

(641): Went to the career fair today..I handed out many resumes to find out later that they say I have a bachelor o farts degree...Top that.

(678): How is it that lesbians won't hit on me at a gay club, but they'll hit on me every time I go to Walmart?

(417): My mom is such a hoarder. I found a deer candelabrum last night, it had antlers has candle holders. It was like a redneck menorah.

(714): Peanut butter while high is kinda stressful

(727): I'm at the airport and there's a guy wearing all camouflage to go hunting .. Should I bump in to him and say woahh sorry didn't see you there?

(714): I can't believe I'm wasting this thong on a guy in a sweater vest.

(703): just balanced a champagne glass on my gut. thanks to beer im a living breathing tempur-pedic mattress.

(336): I was to drunk to drive all the way up there, so we just had rough phone sex instead

(484): I wasted my skinny years on you. The least you can do is high five me at the bar

And my personal favorite....

(518): She didn't know my name but she knew I was Canadian so she just called me Canada. It sounded like the national anthem when we were fucking.

Oh Canada! LOL

Thanks, dickwad.

$307.33 to fix the dent some asshole left in my car.

I hope whoever (s)he is, that karma is a far bigger bitch than I ever could be, and pays them back tenfold.

You know, like blowing up the engine in *their* new car.  Or at the very least, allowing some small child who's mommy lets them take the shopping cart to the corral, ram into the side of it and leave a nice mark like what happened to mine.

(I don't know this for a fact but it's too low to be a door ding, so something had to be rammed into it, and since I was only at the grocery store and the nursing home Sunday, I'm guessing it wasn't dear old Mrs. Smith and her walker.).

Seriously, do you know what I could do with that $300?  I sure as shit wasn't planning to donate it to my friendly neighborhood body shop!

Sigh.

Oh well. Deep breath. Relax. Stop making the voodoo doll....

It's only money.

I. Am. Pissed.

Some asshole hit my new car this weekend.

Why do people do that? Damage your car and then take off and not bother to be accountable for it?

Now it will probably cost me several hundred dollars to fix it and it's not even my fault.

Arrrrgh. Fuckers.

In other news...

I got some cool shoes this weekend. Coach tennis shoes. Check 'em out. On sale at Nordstrom's for $69. (Regularly $110 or something)

I have a black Coach purse that matches. Coincedence? I think not.