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2月27日 JokeDonald Rumsfeld is giving the President his daily
briefing, he concludes by saying: "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed in an accident." "OH NO!" the President exclaims. "That's terrible!" His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits, head in hands. Finally, he looks up and asks.... "How many is a Brazillion?" 2月26日 I've been TAGGED - 5 Weird/Strange/Obsessive Habits1. I can't stand to hear people smacking. I inherited this from my Daddy who also hated smacking. I was told that smacking is a sure sign of ignorant people with no table manners. It drives me crazy that tv and movie characters smack their food, talk with food in their mouths, etc. BLECH!! You can eat whatever you want, including boogers, but for God's and my sakes, don't SMACK!!
2. Most of my weird and obsessive habits are at the office. I like to use the same pen until all the ink is gone. The pen stays in my keyboard tray in the same exact position with the cap off and I don't want anyone else to EVER use my pen. My co-workers think I'm an absolute bitch about my pen, and I am. However, they have learned (some the hard way) that they need to leave my pen alone! One of the coaches commented the other day that it was amazing that I can keep my pen when his disappear from his desk at a rapid rate. My boss said, "You're kidding, right? You've been the victim of her wrath at taking/using her pen and you STILL think it's amazing that she keeps her pen?" All I'll say is that people will take and use your stuff if you let them.........and I don't let them. Simple.
3. I'm hooked on All My Children. It's a train wreck and I can't help but look, then I get so upset at the stupidity of the story line, character behavior, or whatever. I occasionally vow that I'm not going to watch anymore, but then I get the D.T.'s and end up at midnight watching that day's episode on soapnet. Ugh. I have the tv on soapnet right now catching up on the week's episodes that I missed last week. It's a sickness. My friends and I discuss the AMC characters like they're real people. (Which really freaks out an eavesdropper if they don't realize it's a soap opera.) For those of you who watch AMC - how HOT is Zack Slater? Whew.
4. I'm a homebody. I would rather stay home than go anywhere in the world. I like sleeping in my own bed, watching my own tv, pooping in my own potty, and hanging out with my own dog. I've been this way my entire life. My siblings think I'm an idiot (for this and many other reasons).
5. Y'all may not think so, but I think it's weird that my dog and I are both in the same rut. We wake up in the morning, drag ourselves reluctantly out of bed, go to the utility room where I get him a treat and put him outside. He stays out, weather permitting, and I go to work. When I get home I let the dog in, we play and cuddle, then we both eat supper, snuggle on the couch while watching tv, then we go to bed. If I don't go to bed by 10:30 the dog starts walking toward the bedroom and then coming back and looking at me as if to say, "Come on!!" There are a few differences. He pees outside (hopefully) and I pee inside (hopefully). I get my water out of the kitchen and he gets his out of the toilet (Gya, I hope I don't ever get THAT backwards). He licks his balls and I, well, I don't!
I'll probably remember lots of other weird things I do after I hit "Publish Entry." People who live alone for an extended amount of time, as I have, are chock-full of obsessive habits/behaviors, but we don't realize it because there's nobody around to point them out to us. I will say that it's difficult when I have company to "share." When someone uses my special soap in the shower or drinks the last bit of milk without letting me know to buy more or messes with the thermostat, I feel my face getting nervous tics that make my eye blink or my mouth wiggle on one side. Ha!!
Okay, gotta run. The dryer just buzzed so I only have one more courtesy buzz before it stops and my clothes get wrinkled. Gotta go hang 'em up. Must.......not......let.......them......wrinkle....... 2月23日 Random StuffOkay, Y'all. I heard about something today that has me a-quiver with excitement. I'm certain that everyone will change their February plans by cancelling the trip to New Orleans or Galveston or anywhere else that has a big Mardis Gras celebration, and rerouting that desire for fun to Kilgore, Texas. Yep. Forget the beads! Forget flashing titties! Forget partying in the streets all night long! Come to Kilgore for.....The Muddy-Gras. You read that right. Muddy-Gras. [Pronounced Muh-dee Grawwww] Last summer's Redneck Festival was such a success that the city added another chance for drunken rednecks to gather to show off their, ummm, talents. Anybody with four-wheel drive, oversized tires, or a four-wheeler can join right in the fun. I can't make this shit up, people. This is a real-life festival scheduled for this weekend. And yes, they really did have a Redneck Festival last summer. And yes, it was a huuuuuge success. (And no, I didn't go.)
Other festivals held in the East Texas area include The Noonday Onion Festival, The Athens Black-Eyed Pea Festival, The Gilmer Yamboree, The Grand Saline Fire Ant Festival, The Palestine Dogwood Festival, The Winnsboro Autumn Trails Festival, The Tyler Rose Festival, The Grapeland Peanut Festival, The Lufkin Forest Festival, The Nacogdoches Berry Festival, The Hopkins County Dairy Festival, and on and on and on... Several of these have been around for years, while others have been added in the last five to ten years in an attempt to generate revenue for dead little towns. Some of 'em are pretty fun - others are an attempt by the local elite to make themselves royal-esque.
I got home the other night after having margaritas (2) and nachos (a bunch) with some buddies to find a sonofabitchin' "For Sale" sign in my yard. I was sooo pissed considering that my house is NOT for sale. I stumbled into the house and decided I would deal with it in the morning. After a good night's rest I headed for work the next day, and planned to yank the sign up - but then I realized that my friend had come by and put his political sign in the yard. It wasn't a "for sale" sign after all but a sign supporting my bud's bid for county judge. I felt pretty stupid. Had to laugh, tho. I either need to stop drinking, get glasses, or improve my memory...or all three.
You'd think I'm a lush after reading the past few postings. Truth is, I seldom drink, which could be why I don't handle it very well. However, this was my third night this week to have margaritas and Mexican food. Or Tex-Mex if ya wanna get technical. I'm trying to be more sociable and it seems my friends can't be sociable without food & drink. I'm gonna have some really good friends but eventually they're gonna have to cut the front of my house off so I can get outside to party. Sheesh. I'll be on Maury Povich or Jerry Springer in the episode titled "She was Bubbly and Fun but Too Big to Go Through her Door." Ha.
My friend sent me a monk-e-mail from careerbuilder.com. It's a website that helps you choose a career, do a resume, etc. They use monkeys in their ads - you may have seen one during the Superbowl. Anyway, they have these monkeys you can use to send messages. Somehow it synchronizes their mouths with the words you type in. It's awesome. I sent some monk-e-mails to my friends and some of the coaches, who sent some to their friends... Now we fear we need intervention to help us stop sending the monk-e-mails. One of the computer-illiterate coaches doesn't have speakers on his "e-mail machine" so he sends one and then runs to my office so he can watch it. (Yes, Texas residents - these are your tax dollars at work!) We giggle like children. We can't wait for the receiver to find the monk-e-mail on their own so we call them and tell them to check their e-mail. Then we all giggle like children until we think of someone else who needs to be monked. At least we all look busy.
We're hosting a girls regional basketball tournament this weekend for AA high schools. This is serious business for the small schools involved. I could find all kinds of things to ridicule about the fans and their dress and behavior, but I gotta tell ya that seeing how supportive they all are of their kids seriously gives me a warm feeling in this cold, cynical heart. I grew up in towns the size of these and I know how they all know each other's business, they all know each other's kids, and I know how nurturing it can be. "It takes a village" isn't just something read in a book - it's the way these people live everyday. When people ask me why I think athletics is important and not just a waste of taxpayer money, I point out how athletics brings together a community. People of all walks of life, all races, become of one spirit during a sporting event. They're all pulling for the same thing. How many other things bring people together like that? Athletics and disasters are what bring people together in a positive way.
I must be getting sleepy - that last paragraph got kinda deep. Not just rubber boot deep but hip-wader deep. Scary! So, before I start trying to solve world peace, I bid you goodnight.
2月19日 Brrrrrrr!!!!I'm freezing me arse off!! It's 30-something degrees outside. We were getting a little bit of freezing rain but it has stopped now. Okay, it ain't a ka-jillion below like it is up north, but I'm just not used to this! Brrrrr. My dog isn't used to it, either. He runs out to pee & poop but then he's back at the door scratching & whining. (Yeah, he gets the whining thing from me!)
I've been very wasteful this weekend. When it's cold outside, things like "chili" and "stew" and "cake" start sounding really good. Well, I've been trying to eat healthier so after I made "chili" and "cake" and ate a hearty helping, I began to feel billious and guilty. CRAP. So, before I could crater again and eat more hearty helpings I garbage-disposaled the stuff. Damn. Fat-ass is a lot more fun without guilt. And lettuce is NOT a comfort food, nor will it warm the cockles of my gut.
I decided, since the cake and chili are no more, that a glass of wine would be warming. I recently graduated from the screw-top wine to the kind with a real cork. Usually, tho, there are other people around who know how to uncork the bottle. My previous experiences with cork ended with me straining my wine through a sieve. Well, I feel soooo grown up because I uncorked my wine all by myself. The wine is good - some kind of zinfandel - but I'm wishing for a bottle of Arbor Mist. You know, the adult version of Boones Farm. It's like Kool-Aid with a tiny kick. Mmmmm.
Thank goodness my niece and nephew decided to take trips this weekend. I would be so bored if I didn't have them to worry about. NOT. I can remember family trips when I was a kid. Here are some of Daddy's rules about the car:
Always fill up the car on Friday in case you get an emergency call during the night and have to take off.
Don't ever leave the house if there are tornado watches/warnings, severe thunderstorm watches, or ice/sleet/snow predicted.
Leave wherever you are in time to get wherever you're going before dark.
Go slower than everybody else so you can stay out of the way of all those fools driving fast.
If you're gonna be gone for awhile, take everything you could possibly need so you don't have to buy it on the road and pay ??times its value. We always looked like the Grapes of Wrath everytime we went on vacation because of all the crap tied to the top of the car.
Daddy grew up during the depression. Looking back, I see how that affected lots of things. For instance, food was often scarce during the depression. As a result, everytime Daddy went to the store he came back with WAY more than we needed, yet we got fussed at if we left lights on when we left a room, let the water run longer than he thought we needed to for baths, etc., or left food on our plates. That whole philosophy about not wasting food has caused major issues for my siblings and I and our waistlines! Ugh. One day Daddy called my sister and I into the bathroom and told us that using more than 3 squares of toilet paper for a pee was too wasteful. For awhile he tried to put a rule into effect limiting us to only flushing every 3rd trip if we only peed. Mother changed his mind on that real quickly.
It's funny how stuff from our childhoods can affect our attitudes and practices. I think my fun childhood is why I hate going to work. Ha!! I just wanna stay home and have fun like I did when I was a kid. I'm debating whether I can get away with calling in sick tomorrow. Probably not. It would be too obvious that I'm calling in because it's cold as I haven't made it a secret that I hate cold weather. (Even if it is the Texas version of cold, which has been pointed out to me isn't really cold at all compared to "up north.") It's all relative, right? I'll go to work tomorrow. But I wont' like it and I'll probably gritch about the cold all day. If I'm gonna be miserable I might as well try to make everyone else that way, too, right? Ha!!
Brrrrrrrrr...........
2月17日 End of the Day StuffIt's decision making time. It's nearly quittin' time at the office. I kinda need to pee. I would rather pee at home. So I have to decide...
(a) How badly do I really need to pee?
(b) Can I wait til I get home to pee?
(c) Am I going straight home?
(d) Should I just go on and pee in the public toilet? (yech)
The other day I miscalcuated #s a,b, and d and by the time I drove into my driveway I was like a racehorse on the second lap. There is no pain like the "need to pee" pain, and nothing feels as good as peeing when you need to go that badly. Orgasmic. Well, sorta.
I also have to calculate how many minutes I can slide out before 5:00 without aggravating the boss. This is only an issue on Friday. For some reason I don't have the driving need to leave early on any day but Friday. Leaving early is always bonus, but on Friday, wow, I just gotta go. By 3:00 on Friday afternoon I feel like I'm sitting on an ant bed. I fidget, I twist, I stare at the clock. It's miserable.
The weather man has predicted freezing rain for this weekend. This means that everybody in the world will be at the grocery store getting milk and bread after work. That's what we do in the South. There are certain things we do in particular situations, and when ice is predicted we buy milk and bread. When someone dies we take a casserole to the family's house. When young girls get married we mark the calendar to determine any scandal if she starts showing signs of pregnancy within the first 9 months of marriage. Before every special event in our lives, we wash the truck.
I plan on going to the house and hibernating until the weather warms up, or Monday, whichever comes first. The dog and I will snuggle on the couch basking in the warm glow of the tv. Mmmmm. That's greatness!
I hope everyone has a great weekend. I'm gonna. 2月13日 Fan StoryToday we were getting ready to host a high school playoff game. The guy that was assigned to manage the gym tonight asked me when to close the ticket gate. I told him to close right after halftime unless there were a bunch of people outside waiting to get in free. If there were, stay open until mid-way through the 3rd quarter but say we would sell tickets until the end of the game. They eventually give up and buy a ticket. It's just a little bitchy thing I do because it pisses me off that people don't want to pay $3 to see their team play an important game. I swear, for some people the game is about trying to sneak in for free instead of basketball. Anyway, this set us off talking about cheap-ass people that are too tight to buy a ticket.
My friend told me an hilarious story about a guy in Tenaha (pro. Tenny-haw), Texas, that didn't buy a ticket to a football game. For those of you who don't know, four teeny-tiny communities in East Texas consolidated together to form a little-bitty school. They are Tenaha, Timpson, Bo-Bo, and Blair. Nice ring to it, huh? Anyway, their football field is squeezed into a place that is almost exactly the size of the playing surface. There's a 6-ft chain link fence at one end of the field between the school campus and the railroad track. This ol' guy crawled the chain link fence, hooked the suspender things of his overalls onto the top of the fence, and then leaned back and took in the game like a kid sitting in a baby swing. I can't get the image of such a thing outta my head. Every once in a while I giggle because I can see that ol' boy hangin' there watching the football game.
I bet nickels to donuts that his name was Bubba, Buddy, or a two-namer like Billy Earl or Jackie Wayne. I love our East Texas characters! Never a dull moment...
2月12日 For a little while....I didn't do jack-crap yesterday in the way of being a productive human being, so this morning I got up before noon and knuckled down and was busier than a cat covering up shit for a coupla hours. Then, comfortable in the fact that all my clothes are clean and the house is straight and I can go to the toilet confident that I won't get typhoid, I sat down with a cup of orange-spice tea, a few dark chocolate Kisses, and watched a Lifetime movie that, of course, had a happy ending. For a coupla hours there I felt like I had my shit absolutely together. As the sun goes down and I start looking toward tomorrow, my good attitude is fading.
Don't get me wrong, I sincerely like everyone in my department and most everyone at the college. But it's like Sunday afternoon at a friend's house when you got there Friday night. It's time to go. They're still being nice but they can't wait til I go home. Is this how it always is when one gets close to retirement?
I feel really selfish whining about going to work. One, it's a great job. Two, I have a job. And three, my friend's daughter died. Now THAT'S something to fret over. Gya. I can't imagine. I looked at Mechelle in her casket and wished her mother didn't have to see. I can't imagine giving someone life and then seeing them dead. It was hard enough seeing my parents, who had given ME life, dead. But at least that's in the "natural order." I read something one time and I would acknowledge its source if I could remember it: "When you lose your parents you lose your past. When you lose your spouse you lose your present. But when you lose your child you lose your future." {shudder}
I have a friend who always points out to me how much better I have it than so&so or so&so when I start whining about some issue that's bugging me. I suppose he wants me to see my blessings but instead I usually feel bad about the original issue AND guilty because I feel bad about me when someone else has it worse. I can't seem to convince him that, no matter how bad other people have it, it's still all about ME.
Aw, shoot. I know I'm blessed a kajillion times over but every once in a while, when it seems nothing goes my way or the hormones are raging, I just like to get down and "waller [wallow]" in it. I crawl up on that pity pot and stay there until I get tired of feeling pitiful and so slink back down and get back to the business of life. In these times of immediate gratification it's difficult to remember that it ain't gonna be a party all the time. Peaks and valleys, baby, peaks and valleys.
And so it was awesome today when, FOR A LITTLE WHILE, I really felt like I had my shit together.
2月9日 Glad You're Here Day!Tomorrow is "Glad You're Here Day!" for my oldest nephew, Joe. When he was in high school Joe and his little brother (Jeb) were walking down their long driveway to where the car was parked so they could go to school. The roads were clear but there was LOTS of ice in the trees, powerlines, etc. They live in the pineywoods of deep East Texas so we're talking lots of trees, lots of ice. The driveway was too muddy to drive the car all the way up to the house so they were parked down by the road. A limb cracked and broke from the weight of the ice and fell on Joe's head. It was a real freak accident but it damn-near killed Joe. Jeb ran to the house to get their mom for help. My brother was in Austin serving in the legislature at the time, both nieces were gone from home. We found out later that Jeb had cracked a coupla ribs when he slid on the steps and fell as he ran to get his mom but he never mentioned his own pain because he was so worried about his big brother. The ambulance came and took Joe to the hospital where he lay in an emergency room unchecked by a doctor for quite some time. My sister-in-law finally went ballistic and it wasn't long before a doctor, the hospital administrator, and God knows who else was there checking on Joe. His brain was swelling and he was in a lot of pain. The governor had the Texas highway patrol take my brother from Austin to the hospital where Joe was being operated on as they were trained to drive on bad roads...quickly. They stopped in College Station to get my niece. Joe was transferred to another hospital where a section of his skull was removed to allow for his brain to swell. The neurosurgeon told my brother and sister-in-law that Joe's responses upon waking from surgery would tell a lot about whether there would be brain damage. He might know them, he might not. He might be okay, he might not. As Joe began waking from the anesthesia my brother leaned over the bed to kiss him. Joe gave a slight grin and said, "Hey, Pops." Bubba's reaction was similar to the one he had when Joe was born - when he fell to his knees in tears and prayers of gratitude. Powerful stuff. Joe was fine. Six months later they went back and replaced his skull. The only thing he can't do now is ride a bike. And yes, he could before. I guess it's something with his balance. He even got to play baseball that year although he wore a batting helmet the whole time, like John Olerud. Plus, he was pumped because he got to wear a cap to school all spring because his head had been shaved and because there was a definite sunken-in place where he had no skull. Some of his buddies shaved their heads in a show of support. It was sweet in a high school boy kinda way. So every year on February 10th we celebrate Joe because we're Glad He's Here. He almost wasn't.
Stay tuned....in May I'll tell you about Jeb's "Glad You're Here Day!" from the time he wrecked his truck.... 2月7日 Phone stuffI've just ended a very traumatic few days. My niece and I are on a family plan with our cell phone carrier, except they "divested" her number to another company. So I called customer service, well, THEY call it customer service - NOT what I called it!! After calling, cussing, crying, and having a caniption (a type of fit), I finally have my account straightened out. Sheesh. I wanted to just chunk the phone in the trash and cancel the whole thing, but my sister said I MUST have a phone. What if my house catches on fire? What if somebody breaks in? What if I have a heart attack? What if SHE has a heart attack? (Yes, doom & gloom runs in the family!) So I'm paying $80 a month in anticipation of notification of a disaster.
I particularly like when I'm on the phone at work. Have you ever noticed how people behave when you're on the phone? Gya!!
* The best. I'm on the phone, someone comes into the office and they sit quietly waiting for me to end my call before they say anything.
* Irritating. I'm on the phone, someone comes into the office and they ask if I'm on hold. "head shake no" Well, can I ask you something? wide-eyed "can't you see I'm on the phone go to hell" look.
* Also irritating. I'm on the phone, someone comes into the office and they stand and stare at me. Grrrrrr!!!!!! I'll talk to people I don't even like just to irritate the starer.
* The Worst. I'm on the phone, someone comes into the office and they start mouthing at me like it's not impolite if they don't make a noise. My usual response to this: Me to the person on the phone, "Excuse me a minute but Ray Charles just walked in and obviously doesn't see me on the phone" and then I put the phone down and glare at the mouther and rudely ask, "WHAT?"
I've also been known to hang up on irate callers. I try very hard to appease the caller and politely listen to their issue and try to help them resolve their problem, but after a while it's time for them to move on. What to do? Well, hang up on them mid-sentence or mid-word. They'll call back and you'll apologize for losing them but you explain that your phone is acting up. Then do the same thing again. They'll eventually give up and stop calling back.
OR, hang up "accidentally" on the irate caller and then put your phones on hold for as long as you can without the boss noticing.
As always, tho, payback is a killer. I was talking to my niece cell-to-cell. She obviously tired of the conversation. All I know is that there was suddenly a ton of static on the line and her voice kept going in and out. I finally gave up and, yelling into the phone so she could hear me over the static, told her I would talk to her later. She called back laughing hysterically because I fell for her trick. She was making the static noise so I would hang up but then she had to tell me how stupid I was so called back. Niiiiiice. I had to give her her props, tho. It was greatness.
Useful PhrasesHere are some useful phrases:
The football coach used this one when discussing the football talent of one of his recruits:
Aw, he needs to sit out a year - he ain't even got hair on his belly. (It seems that hair on the belly is a measurement for physical maturity.)
Used by a former coach regarding the intelligence of a player:
He don't know come hither from sic'em.
Football coach regarding a wide receiver:
That boy couldn't catch a cold.
Miscellaneous that I've heard all my life:
That so and so would argue with a brick wall.
He thinks his shit don't stink.
He hadn't got sense to come in outta the rain.
As nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Shivering like a dog shitting a peach seed.
Slick as owl shit.
Stubborn as a mule.
Hung like a horse.
Screaming like a cat in heat.
He ain't got sense to pour piss out of a boot.....with the directions on the heel.
And my two all-time faves:
I'm screwing this dog - you just stand there and hold the leash.
This ain't my first rodeo. (Used this one just this morning.)
There are many others but they're so ingrained that I can't even think of them right now. They just pop out unexpectedly. 2月6日 SuperbowlIf you're not a gambler and your fave team is not in it, it just doesn't mean beans who wins the Superbowl. But, like a train wreck, I must see it. So I watched at a friend's house where I spent a lot more time shoveling chips, dip, pizza, and cookies down my throat than actually watching the game. Mmmmmm. Tums were my friend when I got home. Ugh.
Now, I'm not particularly a religious person. Kinda spiritual, but not churchy [too lazy to get up and get dressed on Sunday which I'm not keen on explaining to St. Peter at the Pearly Gates]. I got a weird feeling at the end of the game last night. I've gotten this feeling before watching championships but it was really strong last night. As I watched Bart Starr tote the trophy to the stage, as Coach lofted the trophy over his head, as The Bus kissed the trophy.....images of the bronze calf drifted in and out of my pea-brain. WWMT? What Would Moses Think? There were the masses, cheering for the shiny trophy, blah blah blah.
Odd thoughts for someone who works in the athletic department, don't you think? I know, I know....I really pulled this concept right outta my butt! My friend says I'm overthinking the whole thing. If it were the Cowboys I would be hailing the almighty trophy myself.
So, to make myself feel better I'll say a little prayer and light a candle. I'm not Catholic so the candle will be a lovely scented jar candle. Hey! I might be onto something the Catholics need to think about.... the candles and incense all in one as a scented candle! As the Guinness guys say - BRILLIANT!
Wow. If I wasn't going to hell before that probably clinched it for me. 2月5日 Politics - A RANTI am SICK of politics. Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Libertarians - all of them - are full of CRAP. It's not about representing the people anymore - it's only about winning the debate. If a politician has a good idea that would help the majority of the people of this country he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of passing his legislation if his party is not the majority. The "other side" won't give the guy credit for coming up with something good. More and more we find out about parties lying to win their debate or to cover a boo-boo (misinformation). It even gets personal, ruining peoples careers and families.
I am absolutely and totally paranoid about politicians. I don't trust anything I hear them say. One of the reasons for that is the presentation by the media of what people say, things that happen, etc. There are soooo many shows whose entire premise is the argument; the debate. Hannity and Combes, Bill O'Reilly, Rush Limbaugh, Chris Matthews, Anderson Cooper, on and on and on..... These guys aren't interested in bringing us both sides - they're about tv and radio ratings. They would argue the color of the sky if it would keep them on the air.
The things I KNOW are disheartening. I KNOW that management of FEMA funds was horrible. My friend's cousin is a truck driver. He was hired to take stuff to New Orleans after Katrina. He sat in New Orleans for over a week, at $1,000 a day, because nobody could tell him where to unload. My grandmother lived on the Texas coast and went through many hurricanes. Not once did we ever expect money from the government to make repairs or clean up. People nowadays don't want to take responsibility for themselves. Where should government draw the line on "helping" people? Why doesn't government create jobs (remember the WPA?) so people can work for the money they need and not only rebuild their homes but their self-pride and pride in a job well done? Why do we give people money to rebuild in flood zones, hurricane areas, landslide-prone hillsides? Duh, time to move! or be prepared to take care of your own needs.
I KNOW that there is so much pork-belly legislation that it's ridiculous. We're spending millions to build a bridge in Alaska to a tiny, tiny island. It'll pump lotsa money into one small area and benefit very few people, if any. But it will benefit the congressman from that area! Why not reappropriate that money to the levies in New Orleans to protect thousands of people? Or to develop alternate fuel sources so we don't have to go to war in the Middle East? Legislators tack bullshit stuff onto important bills costing taxpayers millions, trillions of dollars with no regard to need or cost.
I feel impotent to do anything about this. "Go vote" you say. I don't feel that my vote counts anymore as I don't feel there is a candidate who represents my concerns. I'm FRUSTRATED. 2月2日 Drunk BloggingI'm feeling verrrry high-tech. I just had about five stout margaritas and instead of drunk-calling on my phone, I decided to drunk blog on my space. I hosted a bridal shower for a friend. (Hence the maids earlier in the week.) I decided I could have saved $130 by just buying more tequila and getting everybody drunk so they wouldn't notice the dirt. We had a good time.
There was a time when my buddies and I would start partying about two hours after this party tonight ended. Sheesh. Here it is 8:30 pm and I've buzzed and mellowed and I'm ready for bed. Even if I wanted to make some booty calls it's waaaaay too early. By official booty-calling time I'll be fast asleep. Getting old is hell.
So, I'm curious, have ya ever gotten a booty call? Were you glad to be getting a little, or offended that the person didn't call until late at night? Does the booty call itself count as foreplay?
I co-hosted this little soire with a girl in her mid-twenties. She asked if we were gonna play any games at the shower. I just looked at her. Do I strike anyone reading this like the shower game playing type? Hell No! The bride is nearly forty for crying out loud. Most of the women at the shower were 40+. Can you see a bunch of peri-menopausal to post-menopausal women playing that game where you do something with a string and a pencil over your wrist to see if you'll have a boy or a girl baby? Gya. What a nightmare.
My boss's wife was at the shower. I had to call a friend after everyone left to make sure I didn't say anything untoward about my boss. That would have been horrible. My friend said I was cool. Whew. Of course, my friend had been drinking, too.
Wow. I'm going night-night. I'm having liquor yawns. 2月1日 miscI just spent over an hour on the phone with att/cingular customer non-service. Shit! Unbelievable. But WOW the guy had a hot voice. I wanted him to talk dirty but how on earth would I approach that? "Dude? Can you service me? Can you get the service up?" and then hope he's all over the double-entendre. I did tell him he sounded hot - I couldn't help myself. Then I caught myself lowering my voice trying to sound sexy. Mmmmm. A sexy hick - NOT. Yeah, I don't have that sweet southern belle thing happening. It's more like, well, a country hick. (But without the double negatives.) I yam what I yam.
I realized today that I should NOT be working in an athletic department because everytime I hear the word "balls" I get tickled. A high school coach scheduled a playoff game in our gym today and I said, "Coach, you'll have to bring your own buh, er, buh, bahahahahalls." Everytime! Coaches give me a requisition to order balls; I say I wish it were that easy for guys to get 'em. Now they all know my sickness so they tease me about the golf coach having the smallest balls. The tennis coach has fuzzy balls. Men's basketball has the biggest balls. Baseball has hard balls. Football has weird shaped balls. Women's basketball wants to have balls like the men but their balls are smaller. Soccer and volleyball have really white balls. I can be in the WORST mood and I'll still chuckle over a good "balls" joke. Sick, sick, sick.
One of the volleyball girls told Chuck the Intern that she could suck-start a Harley. I think she may have had a crush on him. Anyway, the suck-starter and another girl were planning on "throwing down" [fighting] the other day so Coach came to get the athletic director. She's explaining who the girls are, "You know - the girl that can suck-start a Harley is threatening to beat down the big bitch with the legs. If she does she's gonna get her ass kicked!" So here go all the men in my office to check out the situation. As the new assistant director goes out the door he turns to me with thumbs up and says, "I JUST LOVE WORKING HERE!", giggles and runs out. I'm obviously not the only one with issues.
Sometimes I feel like a pervert. I sit on the sidelines at the football games because I'm basically anti-social so don't want to sit in the bleachers. Anyway, I can't see over the guys to watch the game so my eyes and mind wander to butts because, well, that's what is at eye-level. There are two things that can make any male butt look good - Wrangler jeans and football pants. Football pants are the male equivalent of a push-up bra. They cinch things in and pull it to where it looks good. It's magical!
My boss pointed out today that there is a phrase in the south that basically ends any discussion - "well, there ya go." If you're in a discussion and the other person is tired of it they just say, "well, there ya go." After that there's nothing else to say. I didn't have much to talk about on my space today, so, ummm....
Well, there ya go.... |
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