Hell has frozen over

WHY is it that when anything horrible happens, you've just GOT to be called at work? When there are OTHER PEOPLE around?? I dunno, but lately it's been happening to me. I'd like to tell all my family to PLEASE PHUKING CALL ME AT HOME. Next year, if possible. Better yet, send a letter. I can't promise I'll read it, but I will let my dog chew on it, ok?


For instance: My ex husband just called to tell me that he's getting a divorce from (in my words) the most evil hateful phuking bitch in the the entire history of the world. Otherwise known as his wife. Do I care? Hell no. Will I ever care? Again, hell no. BUT...I had to sit quietly and listen and make "mmmhhhmmm" noises like I understand and quite possibly sympathize (not in this lifetime, junior) because I AM AT WORK, YOU ASSHOLE!


Oh, and he was DRUUUUUUNK. Yes indeedy, he was drunker than cooter brown. My face is going to break because I am smiling and laughing and y'all better not stand too close to me in case lightning strikes. Karma is FINALLY kicking his sorry ass and I hope it kicked hard and I hope it hurt. Payback for beating the shit outta me for all those years I was sentenced to him.

Yes indeedy, karma is a bitch. I love her.

What happens when you combine Jehova's Witnesses and Jubilee!Jam!

You get alot of drunken Witnesses running through the streets, that's what. SOMEBODY at Watchtower is going to be in deep shit when they find out they scheduled a conference 2 blocks away from a LOUD ASS PARTY in downtown Jackson, Mississippi. HA! I have been laughing my ass off ever since I found out about this little snafu. I hope they all do it again next year, same time, same place.

I need a t-shirt that says "Don't tell the Witnesses, but I went to Jubilee!Jam! instead!" How many witnesses does it take to put on a conference? None, apparently, because they were all partying their asses off at Jam! BUSTED!!

In case you truly don't understand what it is I'm being so gleeful about, let me explain. Jubilee!Jam! is a loud ass music festival put on, mostly outdoors, with 10 or more outdoor stages and live LOUD music and good food and lots of likker. That's ALCOHOL, people. A tool of the DEVIL. And Jehova's Witnesses 2 blocks away. I find this HYSTERICALLY FUNNY. Yes, I have a wicked sense of humor. Yes, I'll probably be going to hell. No, I don't care. I am going to have as much fun as I possibly can in this lifetime just in case this is the only go-round I get.

If you can't be a good example, you might as well be a horrible warning. That's me. ;-P

The light's on but nobody's home

My PreciousDarlingYardBoy has gone and gotten himself DirectTV. Around 150 channels or so. I will never hear from him again. His eyes were glazed as he sat there in his bigboy recliner, clutching the remote, switching channels just because he could and because they were THERE. He's thinking of getting TiVo as well.

That man makes me laugh. He also makes me glad I'm single. I could not deal with a remote clutching, eyes glazed over recliner sitting man longer than about 4 hours, max. Once again he has given me the opportunity to laugh my ass off at him and he cannot for the life of him understand why.

Remember the Eudora Welty library previously discussed? Yeah, that one. Cost me $18 bucks yesterday to pay overdue book fines. Damn damn damn. You'd think I'd learn by now to CALL 'em & extend the time limit, but noooooooooo. I never have and never will. I purely love this library. My nose starts to twitch everytime I walk in the door. I cannot believe that there are thousands upon thousands of books on the shelves and I could check out everydamn one of 'em if I wanted to. And they'd let me, go figure.

Feliz Navidad. Only 186 days until Christmas. ;-P

Let's just get this out of the way now...

If you are a racist, please do not visit my hometown. There are plenty of those types here already and some of us are trying to figure out ways to ship 'em outta here. Use of racial slang IS NOT APPRECIATED in any way shape or form. You're a grown up (I'm assuming). Use your big, grown up vocabulary and think of some nicer words to use, ok?

Do not assume that I am racist because I am a white girl raised in the south. Do not assume that I will smile and nod at you if you use bad racial words around me. It is, however, safe to assume that I will quite possibly rip you a new asshole if such ignorance spews from your mouth into my precious tiny ears. I will not like it and you will hear about it in a hurry.

Now then.. racists come in every color. Really. So does ignorance. It wouldn't hurt for some folks to just give over and try to meet in the middle for crying out loud. I am tired of the "us" and "them" mentality. We're in this together, people. Love one another for crying our loud.

Peace Out

When it rains, it pours.

So it really is true, a gal can meet guys at Home Depot. Tall guys, short guys, guys who just came in from someplace stinky, guys who's shoes cost more than mine, guys who cannot measure, cut, screw or hammer, but who looooove Home Depot. Oh, and divorced guys. Yeah. They hang out there because they heard you can meet girls. On the paint isle. The secret code word is "restful sage". Secret handshakes aren't necessary. We really don't know where their hands have been, after all.

That's right, I spent last weekend painting. I'd rather have had a rectal exam. I HATE painting. And the color turned out wrong. I am learning to live with "flesh toned putty" on the walls because I WILL NOT REPAINT. No, never!! Walls be damned. It was supposed to be a nice, normal tan, incase you're wondering.

If my landlord tells me One More Time that he cannot get a blow job from his wife, I will either scream or puke or both. Bastard. He's like the little brother I would've killed at birth, if given half a chance. This weeks WordsFromAnIdiot include, "Your boobs are big". And his point is???

Ran into J @ LaCazuela's. He was the Divorced Guy who mixed mah paint. He drank beer. I sipped tea, knowing I had to get up this morning and go to work, and prefering to do so without a hangover. I had two sips of beer. TWO SIPS, people. I have a headache. He told me himself that he has "sexy lips". Oh.no.he.didn't. Not by a long shot, buddy. And get those lips away from me. If I wanna be kissed like that I'll go lock lips with Shamu. His.lips.were.not.sexy. That is all.

I think I broke him.

YardBoy, that is. Pulled a muscle in his tummy last night. (insert evil, but satisfied grin here). I really didn't mean to make him hurt himself and I really hope it's not a hernia. Will have to keep a vera close eye on that area to make sure, though. He is miffed, I think, that I was not properly and seriously concerned. Wonder what gave me away? Could it have been the hysterical laughing fit, maybe? Because I had to help him on with his underbritches because he couldn't stand up straight? Possibly.

He is off to visit his mother this weekend & generally hang out in his hometown. Hope he doesn't try to lift anything while he's there. I offered to take him to the Minor Med but he wasn't having any. Said he was allergic to needles. Well, aren't we all! Sheesh. Reminding myself to get him a heating pad in case of future "incidents".. lol.

Today is FRIDAY!! Which also means PAYDAY!! Lets see how fast I can make my check disappear, what with the water bill being due, light bill expected in the mail any minute and kitty litter to buy, new linoleum for the hallway and kitchen since a certain puppy WhoShallNotBeNamed is chewing everything in site that doesn't chew him back. Wonder if the vet can do a toof-ectomy?? Would serve him right. I am OVERUN with animals. 2 cats and 2 dogs in a tiny apartment and I can never keep it clean for long what with 16 little paws running around all damn day. I love 'em, but I hate mess, dirt, dust and animal odors. I think I'm fighting a losing battle here.

My house might be haunted, that's my story anyway.

5am. Big Ass mirror in the living room flies off the wall, taking my Big Ass glass topped sofa table with it. Phuk! It's hard to smoke, drink coffee and clean up a million shards of glass at the same time. I am blaming this on a haint. Yeah, that's it. Gotta be a haint. I mean, surely it wouldn't happen to be because I am such a dumbass that I can't hang a mirror properly, right?

I got some very good advise on how to hang stuff properly, though. Coulda used it when I was married to the ex. (evil grin). Now all I have to do is bust the coffee table and end table and I'll have an excuse to go get some that are wooden. Hell, I may do it anyway.

Oh, and about YardBoy. As usual, I am back to earth after only a few days. He can stay way over there and I'll stay way over here, thank you. At least as long as his mother is still living. Not that that can't be remedied, mind you, it's just that I don't look good in orange and there are no bubble baths in prison.

Well whaddya know

They say that pregnant women and women who have been properly made love to have a certain "glow" about them. I am not pregnant. By Saturday afternoon, however, I must have been glowing in the dark. And grinning my fool head off. One of my 16 year old daughter's little friends remarked "your mom's cute". Now that made my day. I mean, as much as it's possible to have a 16 year old boy compliment you and have that make your day. I told Jess to tell him I was older than dirt and had cellulite. Laughing as I drove away.


Now just WHO is the mystery man? No mystery to me. One day I might direct him to this blog and so I'd better not name any names. This man, for purely selfish reasons, and also to protect his privacy, will be referred to as "The Yard Boy". Yard boy as in, sometimes a girl just needs to have her "lawn".. um.... "mowed". Yeah, that's it, I just needed to have the grass cut.


Complicating matters is the fact that I love him. Oh boy. Well, it's not a head-over-heels kinda love, not anymore, anyway. It's more like a, "Damn, I love him but I know it'll never work out" kinda love. And as much as it makes me so very happy to see him, it makes me that much more sad to know it is not going to work out in any way shape or form. I may never even see him again but if I do, I can guarandamntee you I'll have a big smile on my face. And then I'll knock him naked, whynot. So why torture myself? Why, indeed. When have I EVER made sense? Don't expect me to start now, when I have such a lovely track record of not making any kind of sane, sensible sense in my entire life.


I'm not really feeling tortured, you know. Just sad, knowing that, you know, if anyone we knew found out that saturday night I made his eyes roll back in his head, well, there'd be hell to pay. From his mother. From his son. And lets not forget all of his friends. Not to mention my mother and family. WHAT?! Did you think I was going to say his WIFE??? Oh hell no, he's not married. No girlfriend (as far as I know). He is gainfully employed and is a hard worker, not prone to excessive drinking and certainly doesn't do drugs. Not to mention the fact that he is SEXY AS HELL. And he has Good Hair. And he can dance. And I like to sit in his lap. And he is GREAT in the bedroom. And he has a cute butt.


So why wouldn't it work out long term between us? Well, since certain people (like his mother, for instance) are still among the living, just trust me on this. Ain't gonna happen, sister. Suffice to say, she would undoubtedly throw the Mother Of All Fits (and feel justified in doing so, no doubt) and it certainly doesn't help matters to know that she would, in fact, be more than just a little bit justified. I doesn't help my ego knowing this. Or my self esteem. Or my feelings. Or my sad little heart.


Sometimes in life, some very bad things may happen to some of us (me), and sometimes... it's no more than what we deserve. And sometimes in life we are totally misunderstood and screaming for help and waaaay outta control and scaring the living shit outta everyone (and ourselves) and completely terrified and nobody understands. Nobody. And the worst part is when they don't even want to understand you because, in the end, they never really cared all that much about you to begin with. And sometimes I wish I could just disappear.


Long story short, I did some Bad Stuff, and then he did some Bad Stuff, and his mother came down on his side. No surprise there, I mean, she is HIS mother, right?. No going back, can't get a "do-over" on this one. So here I am. Yes, this is one of those "If you had it to do all over again, would you do something different" kinda things and the answer is YES YES YES I would do everything different. Well, everything in my power, which, unfortunately for me, for us, there are just some things in life that you cannot control. My brain being one of those things.


Now that my brains are, figuratively speaking, "wrassled into a box" or at the very least sort of under control, I have some clarity. And it sucks. And since the only person I control (most of the time, HA!) is me, I have spent the past two days torturing my elliptical machine. Working out angst, I guess you'd call it. It's healthier than stuffing my face with taquitos and margarita's and getting PHUKING SMASHED. Not nearly as enjoyable, but healthier, nonetheless.