Green Haired Kitty

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Caped Kitty

Black cat in spider web cape


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Witch Kitty

This is Butterball.

He’s dead.

I’m sick.

No, not so sick that I dressed up a dead cat.

He was alive when I dressed him up. This pictures is several years old.

Mother Nature killed him. Or Father Time. Or Sister Fate. That whole family’s a bunch of homicidal maniacs.

My whole family’s a bunch of sickos, too. We’ve got the flu or the croup or the plague, I dunno. Everyone is coughing and sneezing and has sore throats and laryngitis. They’ve all been home all week, hacking and moaning and expecting me to drag my equally sick butt outta bed to take care of them - LOL

I haven’t had a chance to do much else, so if I haven’t visited you or commented or mailed you something, now you know why.

Husband said (well wheezed and motioned) that he had to go in to work today. Reports were due, meetings were set, deadlines had to be met.

So together, we dragged our sorry selves out of bed at the monstrous hour of 3 AM. It is raining. There is a fierce wind blowing. I am tired. I haven’t had twenty minutes of uninterrupted sleep in 5 or 6 days. I’ve lost track - time has little meaning, and I am adrift in a sea of snot - LOL

But duty called. I said let it ring, but Husband gathered up his fortitude and responded. So off we were at 3:30 this ugly morn. I was not a good travelling companion.

The wind was blowing buckets of leaves from the trees. My fevered brain did not function sufficiently to process what was happening, and I cried out, (as best I could, with my gravelly, laryngitis-y voice) “Oh crap! Huge brown snowflakes! We’re doomed!”

Husband sighed, wheezily.

I rubbed my eyes and slapped my cheeks, trying to wake up. I thought I was doing a little better until a strong gust blew a green plastic trash-can-on-wheels out in front of us. Husband clipped the edge of it with his bumper.

“You’ve killed a leprechaun!”

I think he actually believed he had, for a moment.

We managed to arrive at his office and he warily handed the keys over to me. I staggered around to the driver’s side, and plopped into the seat. His car is a stick shift, and I am not really fond of driving a stick. He said, “But you know how to shift gears.” I replied I know how to give a barium enema too, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. He didn't say anything else.

Plus, I am not very familiar with the placement of the controls for wipers, lights, defroster, and dilithium crystals. *snicker*

There must be a thousand green-glowing buttons. I don’t know what any of them do. I was afraid that if I touched anything, somewhere, a kitten would die. Just like poor ol’ Butterball. Then I would become a killer bitch, just like Mother Nature. But I drove back, cursing the weather and people who pulled out in front of me. “Damn you! Now I have to downshift!”


I could barely see the road for the rain and blowing leaves. I was afraid I’d miss the exits and end up in Des Moines, knowing that they don’t want a kitten killer bitch who sounds like Harvey Fierstein and can’t find the controls, in their town.

Somehow I made it back here, and I am safe within the confines of Casa de Mucus. God help anybody who gets in my way when I have to go back this afternoon.




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Long cool kitty in a red hat

She was a long, cool kitty in a red hat
With just one look I was a bad mess
'Cause that long cool kitty had it all!

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WW 14 Wizard Cat

Wordless Wednesday

I have more pictures of cats in costumes - willl post one each day until Halloween!

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Wordless Wednesday
Halloween
cats
costumes


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King Faced

This is just almost creepy - LOL

Burger King "King" Mask

For lots more Halloween stuff, visit the Great Squidumpkin

- - -

A couple was invited to a swanky masked Halloween Party. She got a terrible headache and told her husband to go to the party alone. He, being a devoted husband, protested, but she
argued and said she was going to take some aspirin and go to bed, and there was no need of his good time being spoiled by not going. So he took his costume and away he went.

The wife, after sleeping soundly for one hour, awakened without pain, and as it was still early, she decided to go to the party. In as much as her husband did not know what her
costume was, she thought she would have some fun by watching her husband to see how he acted when she was not with him.

She joined the party and soon spotted her husband cavorting around on the dance floor, dancing with every nice chick he could, and copping a little feel here and a little kiss there.
His wife moved on up to him and being a rather seductive babe herself, he left his partner high and dry and devoted his time to the new stuff that had just arrived.

She let him go as far as he wished; naturally, since he was her husband. Finally he whispered a little proposition in her ear and she agreed, so off they went to one of the cars
and had a little romp.

Just before unmasking at midnight, she slipped away and went home and put the costume away and got into bed, wondering what kind of explanation he would make for his behavior.
She was sitting up reading when he came in and asked what kind of a time he had. He said, "Oh, the same old thing. You know I never have a good time when you're not there."
Then she asked, "Did you dance much?"

He replied, "I'll tell you, I never even danced one dance. When I got there, I met Pete, Bill Brown and some other guys, so we went into the den and played poker all evening.
But I'll tell you... the guy I loaned my costume to sure had a real good time!"

Halloween jokes


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Another one bites the dust

The boy’s vehicle is dead.


The mechanic examined its sorry CARcass (sorry, bad pun) and the timing belt snapped. This caused the head to crack (which is pretty much what happened to the boy and his mother when we heard the news).

To repair it would cost $2,000.

So now we are at less than zero. The boy got Monday off, to grieve LOL

Yesterday, we all got up at 3 AM to:

• Take the boy to McDonald’s for a very early morning shift.


• Drive across the state line to deliver Husband to his office.


• Drive BACK across the state line to come home.


• Drag the girl from slumber.


• Drag the semi-slumbering girl to school.


• Return home and start searching want ads and car reviews for something cheap and reliable, which I am quickly learning, is an oxymoron.

Driving Husband’s car back in the pre-dawn hours, I maintained a steady 10 and 2 grip on the steering wheel, as the weather was drizzly and the semi-trucks were like freight trains on asphalt.

Something happened to Husband’s radio. I don’t know what. Maybe the automotive gremlins that destroyed the other two cars had hopped in for the ride. Just as the orange construction barrels popped up and there were lighted roadwork signs, flashing warnings of “shifting lanes ahead” (WTF?) everywhere, the radio channels began jumping from one to another.

I was trapped in a universe where country music, a really filthy stand-up comic, the farm report and Martha Stewart each could be heard for about five seconds. It went something like this:

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys with the biggest tits I’ve ever seen rolled out flat and sprinkled with soybeans and sorghum old trucks that could suck a golf ball through a garden hose baked for one hour with doctors and lawyers and such.

I tell ya, I was hoping one of the big trucks would just kill me after a couple of minutes of that.

Yet onward I drove. And drove. Got girl to school, and came home to search newspapers and Internet for automobiles. Picked the boy up at 2 PM and drove to several car lots to amuse the salesmen with our request of a reliable car for two thousand dollars. Collected a lot of business cards, probably gave them a good coffee break topic, under the heading of, “You won’t believe what some fool asked me today!” I think one took our picture with his cell phone, probably for the Freak of the Day bulletin board.

Today Hubs drove himself in, as the boy has the day off. We’ve called and searched and amused loan officers hither and yon. The boy is blue. I gave him a hug and told him to go listen to some music for a while. I came to the keyboard and here we are LOL

It’s not early for a drink is it?



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And then there were none

With apologies to Agatha Christie and prostitutes

For those of you with short-term memory loss, or new readers, here’s the tragic tale to this point.

Things are...let's see, how can I put this? If my life sucked any more, I’d be a black hole. LOL

There seems to be some unwritten law of the universe, that Middle Son and I can not BOTH have working vehicles. At the moment, NEITHER of us does.

He buys a car, mine goes in the shop. My car is running, something breaks on his.

It's been this way since he bought his car. Then he got in a wreck about three weeks ago. His car was at the shop, but it was his girlfriend's birthday, so I let him drive my car to see her. He returned home around 10:30 PM, and called out... "I hate to tell you this..."

Seems that upon picking up girlfriend to go out for a bite to eat, the car (my car) developed some problems. It would go forward, but only slowly, refusing to shift to a higher gear.

I have no money to repair the transmission, and Middle Son spent all his money getting his car repaired from the wreck. So I've had no car for 3 weeks.

Three.

Long.

Weeks.

LOL

On Saturday, he was heading to work at McDonalds, and he called, saying his car died between here and there. Husband was off, so I drove his car down and picked Middle Son up. Took him to McDonalds then picked him up at the end of his shift. We went back to where Middle Son's car was, and it still wouldn't start, so he had to call a tow truck and have it taken to the mechanic's. He begged someone to work his shift today at McDonald's, and we are waiting to hear what the mechanic says is wrong with his car.

So at the moment we have zero cars here LOL

Lots of rain though. Yep, lots and lots of rain. Ain’t nothin’ that makes being stuck in the house with a sullen youngen, just ever so much better, like ceaseless dreary weather. Yes-sir-ee, good times. LOL

I did get a mighty fine chuckle from watching a Wanda Sykes special on HBO the other night. I will leave you this day with her funnies, as my funnies are few - LOL!

I think I need some Funny 2.0.

Paraphrasing:

We need to bring our men and women back from Iraq. It’s a waste! What good’s it gonna do? So what if we do help them have elections? They’ll probably just vote in some jackass who’ll screw up their country...we did!

Look at what our government’s done to Medicare. Scarin’ all them old people, tellin’ them they have to sign up by the deadline or lose their benefits. I’ve got elderly aunts, I don’t want to see them out there on the street corner, hookin’ for their ‘scripts! Can’t you just see it? (Assumes person of a hunched over old woman) “Ummm, excuse me? Hand job for a Fosomex?”


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Friday the 13th

Here it is, Friday the 13th.

Oh joy. I ain’t worried, every day is like Friday the 13th to me! LOL!

Are you superstitious?
- - -
I added some amazing pictures of carved pumpkins, (check out the Bates Motel!) a picture of our pumpkin patch, and the hysterical, “Life and Death of a Pumpkin” YouTube, to Pumpkins!.

Please come visit - get me into the Top 100! LOL

Happy Friday the 13th !

- - -

A Halloween Safety Public Service Announcement

As we all prepare for the upcoming Halloween season, please take a few minutes to read some simple rules to help keep everyone safe.

1. - Don't assume the telephone calls are coming from another house.

2. - When it appears that you have killed the monster, NEVER check to see if it's really dead.

3. - Never read a book of demon summoning aloud, even as a joke.

4. - Don't go into the basement to check the power when the lights go out!

5. - If your children speak to you in Latin or any other language which they should not know, shoot them immediately. It will save you a lot of grief in the long run. However, it will probably take several rounds to kill them, so be prepared. This also applies to kids who speak with somebody else's voice.

6. - When you have the benefit of numbers, NEVER split up and go it alone.

7. - Don't have sex. Especially if you've noticed a few of your friends are missing!

8. - As a general rule, don't solve puzzles that open a portal to Hell.

9. - Never stand in, on, or above a grave, tomb, or crypt. This would apply to any other house of the dead as well.
10. - If you're searching for something which caused a loud noise and find out that it's just the cat, don't stand there sighing with relief, GET THE HELL OUT!

11. - If appliances start operating by themselves, don't check for short circuits; JUST GET OUT!

12. - Do not take ANYTHING from the dead.

13. - If you find a town that looks deserted, there's probably a good reason for it. Don't stop and look around.

14. - Don't fool with recombinant DNA technology unless you're sure you know what you're doing.

15. - If you're running from the monster, expect to trip or fall down at least twice, more if you are of the female persuasion. Also note that, despite the fact that you are running and the monster is merely ambling along, it's still moving fast enough to catch up with you.

16. - If your companions suddenly begin to exhibit uncharacteristic behavior such as hissing, fascination for blood, glowing eyes, increasing hairiness, and so on, kill them immediately.

17. - Stay away from certain geographical locations, some of which are listed here: Amityville, Elm Street, Transylvania, the Bermuda Triangle, or any small town in Maine.

18. - If your car runs out of gas at night on a lonely road, do not go to the nearby deserted-looking house to phone for help. If you think that it is strange because you thought you had BE of a tank, shoot yourself instead. You are going to die anyway, and will most likely be eaten.

19. - Beware of strangers bearing strange tools. For example: chainsaws, staple guns, hedge trimmers, electric carving knives, combines, lawnmowers, butane torches, soldering irons, band saws, or any devices made from deceased companions.

20. - If you find that your house is built upon a cemetery, now is the time to move in with the in-laws. This also applies to houses that had previous inhabitants who went mad or committed suicide or died in some horrible fashion, or had inhabitants who performed satanic practices in your house.



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Blame Kubrick

Are We Then Yet?

Time’s a funny thing, isn’t it?

(I hope so, since this is s’posed to be humorous.)

Day-um! I been busier than a Viagra salesman at a whorehouse. Ain’t NEVER enough time.

First off, it’s an even year. I’m an odd kind of a girl. Gimme the odd years...no gawd damned elections for one thing. Throw all the politician in a box. Cage matches should decide who runs the government. Let ‘em fight dirty, hell, they do anyway. Wouldn’t it be refreshing to have one of ‘em do a commercial that said, “Hi! I’m Joe Sleazy. I’m running for State Auditor. I know you don’t know what that is, hell I don’t either, but my advisor says it’s a stepping stone to bigger things. It doesn’t matter anyway; I’ll have a bunch of minimum wage flunkies doing all the real work. I’ll be out raising money for my run for the Senate. Paid for by Sleazy campaign contributions I accepted in return for favors when I’m elected. See you in 2009!”

Wait a minute, back that thought up. (Cue the sound effect of going-in-reverse-alarm: BEEP BEEP BEEP!)

How ‘d you just say the year in your head? You know, that little inside-your-brain voice? (Hopefully there is only one, and it isn’t telling you that you are Napoleon, or that trees are actually space aliens. They are, but we ain’t supposed to let on until...oops, never mind.) Did you say, “Two thousand nine”? Or “Two thousand aught nine”? Or “Twenty oh nine”? Or “Nineteen ninety-nine plus ten”?

How are we ever going to get a handle on time if we can’t agree on how to say what year we’re in?

I know what is responsible for this mess - Science fiction.

Way back in the last millennium, Arthur Clarke wrote a book, and Stanley Kubrick made it into a movie, and ain’t nobody been right since. Yeah, you know which one I mean, it had the monolith and the monkeys and the ending that no one understood but everyone had to act like they did.

And it was pronounced Two Thousand One, A Space Odyssey.

So we all thought, “Well, if those geniuses can make a book and a movie that no one understands, and pronounce it Two Thousand One, that MUST be the correct terminology for the next millennium, which no one can even agree when it starts.” So here we are six or seven years in, (depending on which camp you fall into) still unsure of what to call this millennium.

Or this decade.

The LAST decade was the 90’s. So this one is….uh….the oh’s? That doesn’t sound right. The aughts? That’s worse. The single digits? That’s the one the meteorologists use, and we all know they're right up there with science fiction writers, on the scale of making grand pronouncements that no one understands.

(A small clap of thunder is heard, and I keep telling myself that meteorologists cannot MAKE the weather…can they?)

Scientific types will tell you that time is made up of steady, unchanging units of measure: minutes, hours, days, etc.

Baloney.

The time unit called a minute can fluctuate wildly in length. A standing-in-line-at-the-DMV minute is nowhere close to the same length as a reading-a-good-book minute.

Ask a parent, and they will tell you that an hour spent in a vehicle with small screaming children is at least 500 minutes long.

I know for a fact that a working-against-a-deadline hour has twelve minutes in it.

So I ain’t doin’ so good with this whole time thing. I’m not havin’ a good day/week/month/year/incarnation.

My car’s dead and that makes me pissy. Ain’t got no money to buy another one. Got crappy credit, but that doesn’t matter ‘cause I couldn’t make the payments on another car anyway.

Every other commercial on TV (and I do l-o-v-e my TV) is some lying liar tellin’ lies about themselves and whoever the other liar is.

And there ain’t never enough time, no matter how you measure it.

But...(you know I’ve always got a big but - LOL) I’ll keep on truckin’. (Whoa - acid flashback! LOL)

I got a lotta good years left in me, despite my many vices. If nothin’ else, I gotta hang around to annoy the crap outta my enemies. I ain’t no quitter. I’m a fighter and an optimist, and I’ve got enough spunk left in me to last out a boatload of steady, unchanging units of time.

I’ll write a bestseller and make a lot of money and then run for political office....

:)

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Free-kin' Weekend

Got some free goodies for ya!

Free humor book!
I’ve teamed up with Leeuna Foster, a fabulously funny Southern gal, and we are offering free books!

Free virtual pumpkin carving!
Ben and Jerry’s Virtual Pumpkin (requires Shockwave - be warned! If you download it, browser windows will close!) Select your pumpkin, then add eyes, noses, eyebrows, even a “scar”. Unfortunately, there is no way to save the finished pumpkin.

Free mooning!
Moon games to play online, free! Great moon pictures, interesting facts about the moon and our moon travels, children's books and poetry on the moon, a live moon charting java tool so you'll know when the moon is full, half or barely there... NASA shots, lots more, scroll all the way down!

Free Halloween screensavers and wallpapers



Free Halloween games!


Free Halloween greeting cards!


Free Halloween crafts!


More freebies at my All Hallows Eve!

free
e-books


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RIP Buck

By DOUG TUCKER
AP Sports Writer

KANSAS CITY, Mo. (AP) -- Buck O'Neil, the goodwill ambassador for the Negro Leagues who fell one vote shy of the Hall of Fame, died Friday night. He was 94.

Bob Kendrick, marketing director for the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, said O'Neil died at a Kansas City hospital.

A star in the Negro Leagues who barnstormed with Satchel Paige, O'Neil later became the first black coach in the majors. Baseball was his life -- in July, he batted in a minor league All-Star game.

O'Neil had appeared strong until early August, when he was hospitalized for what was described as "fatigue." He was released a few days later, but readmitted on Sept. 17. Friends said that he had lost his voice along with his strength. No cause of death was immediately given.

Always projecting warmth, wit and a sunny optimism that sometimes seemed surprising for a man who lived in a climate of racial injustice for so long, O'Neil remained remarkably vigorous well into his 90s. He became as big a star as the Negro League greats whose stories he traveled the country to tell.



He would be in New York taping the "Late Show With David Letterman" one day, then back home on the golf course the next day shooting his age, a feat he first accomplished at 75.

Complete story

Buck O’Neil
Negro Leagues Baseball




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Are you Lost too?

I’m...dazed. For a period of time, I was obsessed with Lost. Read message boards, pieced together clues and analyzed theories. Now, there's the mini-season. This season opener was the first of six new weekly episodes that will air before "Lost" takes a hiatus until February, when it will continue without a break through May.

I thought I was on the wrong channel when the show opened - LOL! A book club? Then we got all the flashbacks that revealed...what? That Jack is stubborn? Wow! What a shocker! (not!)

Daughter started talking about making her Halloween costume, and I found my interest in fabric discussion more enthralling than creepy HenBen (although he is deliciously evil - LOL)

Did anyone else get a KateRape vibe? Is Juliet a subversive? Subversive to the subversives? Are the Others abandoned Dharmaites or renegades? So what does it all mean? Do I even care any more? I dunno. I just wish I could fix my damned WordPress blog template to take this spider web background, and the header wasn’t offset in Firefox LOL

I 'm gonna go Squid.... I wrote an e-book on it - LOL



Lost
Halloween


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WW 13 Perfect Number

(click to see this image on shirts and other products)

The way things have been goin’ lately, #13 is perfect for Halloween month - LOL!

But I do LOVE Halloween!

- - -

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

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Wordless Wednesday
Halloween


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