Enter the Laughter Redeux

Do Not Read

2011-01-27T18:05:00.002-06:00

I should not read when I first wake up. Stuff just doesn’t make sense until I’ve had some coffee.

Yet I started checking my e-mail early...pre-coffee. Big mistake.

I get e-mail notifications from Freecycle, a great organization that has local websites for most major cities in the United States. They allow people to post stuff they would like to give to someone (no sales) rather than throw it in a landfill. People can also ask for items they need, free of charge. Great idea, right? It is unless you misread the e-mail subject line.

Bleary-eyed and caffeine-deficient I saw, “Wanted: Heavy Water”. My immediate thought was, “Oh my God – terrorists are asking for nuclear materials right here on Freecycle!”

That was enough to drive me to the pot (coffee pot). When I returned, all set to look up the number for Homeland Security, I realized that the poor soul I was ready to release the power of the armed forces onto was actually not a terrorist. The rest of the headline was actually, “Wanted: Heavy Water Bowl for Large Dog”.

Sometimes the headlines are genuinely weird though, like this one for, “Spider Infested Box Springs”.

I mean, really?

Headlines can also just be easily misinterpreted, due to poor wording or bad punctuation, like:

Include Your Children When Baking Cookies
Miners Refuse to Work After Death
Stolen Painting Found by Tree
Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft
Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
Eye Drops Off Shelf

So please, don’t read before you’ve had your coffee, tea or energy drink, or you could end up with spider-infested nuclear weapons.

Happy Thanksgiving 2010

2010-11-23T21:36:00.000-06:00

I hope all of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving! I am so grateful for your friendship and for you stopping by my blog!

Here's a little cartoon to give you a grin:

*** Blind Turkey Farmer ***

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The Rotisserie Butt Tuck

2010-01-16T20:56:00.003-06:00

Baby it's cold outside!

It's been cold and miserable across the country for weeks now. Since before Christmas, the country has been plunged into the deep-freeze, with even the southern-most regions, like Florida, seeing snow and frigid temperatures.

This brings into play previously undiscovered differences in people's relationships. There have always been "odd couple" pairings - a saver involved with a spender, a slob living with a neat-freak or a sauce versus a rub (oops, sorry - that's barbeque, watched "Pitmasters" last night)

But the cold weather brings out another division in personalities - the rotisserie versus the snowballer. This is in reference to how people sleep….more specifically, how they roll over in bed.

A rotisserie sleeper changes their position in bed by flicking the covers upward and executing a quick roll that involves raising up on heels and elbows to flip over wile remaining in virtually the same real estate. They shift from back to side in a smooth maneuver without affecting their longitude or latitude on the bed surface. The blankets flutter back down, almost undisturbed. They are good people. :-)

On the other hand (the not so good hand - LOL) there is the snowballer. The snowball sleeper rolls in the manner of a steamroller, collecting sheets, blankets, comforters, duvets and possibly pets as they hurtle themselves across the landscape of the sleeping area.

Woe be to anyone sharing the bed with a snowballer.

You will be left shivering in this cold spell, as all of the linens designed to keep you warm are now wrapped around the snowballer like a burrito shell.

This can lead to arguments and accusations, none of which will do your relationship any good.

Is there a solution? Why yes, there is.

If you sleep with a snowballer, be forgiving. They are usually unaware of this tragic personality flaw and will deny it, even as they struggle to unswaddle themselves from their shroud. "I don't know how all of the sheets, blankets and the cat ended up wrapped around me! Are you sure you didn't do this to me?"

Your best bet is a good defensive move. Remember, they know not what they do, so when you are ready to go to sleep, lean over and kiss them goodnight.

Butt! (And I do mean butt) as you roll back over to your side of the bed, grab the edge of the covers and shove them firmly under your posterior. Tuck those suckers in tight. Otherwise, you're going to get fat.

That's right. I believe that many people gain weight once they're in a relationship for a while, not because they let themselves go, but because they're just trying to stay warm. Those of us who've packed on a few pounds aren't lazy or overeaters, we're just trying to insulate - grow our own body-blanket.

Help save your relationship. If you're a rotisserie sleeping with a snowballer - learn to butt-tuck. Or do this:

Just Wanna Ride My Motor-Sickle

2009-07-16T23:53:00.006-05:00

Summer, that time of year when the bug population is trimmed back thanks to the personal bug catchers sported by a small segment of our community - the bug-splattered teeth of motorcycle riders. This reminds me of my own days as a Two Wheeled Terror when I spent time making my dentist rich by having him remove particularly hard bits of beetles from my incisors.

Yes, back in my youth, I was a Motorcycle Not Yet Mama, as this was before I had children or any sense of my own mortality.

I got a Zen feeling while riding and it wasn't from sucking fumes from a bus while waiting at a traffic light in the middle of the city. My Zen came from riding through the countryside and breathing the exhaust fumes of thousands of dairy cattle mere feet from the road. I tried to get others to ride with me, but they kept worrying about the guys from Deliverance stepping out from behind a tree to torment them with Dueling Banjos. I assured them that we would not meet any toothless, gun-toting sodomizers.

That was my second mistake.

My first mistake was assuming my co-riders knew which end of a mule does what and which end you should avoid unless you need fertilizer. Almost as soon as we were out of the city limits, these poor souls displayed an inordinate amount of ignorance. People think us hillbillies are dumb, but these folks were spooky stupid.

"Hey Marti, why are those horses so fat?"
"Because they're cows."

"What's that smell?"
"Fresh air."

With my irritation growing to the size of a cow pregnant with triplets, I suggested we find someplace to buy a cold drink and take a break. We stopped at what could loosely be termed a convenience store, but was really more of a fishing supply and liquor shop. The closest thing to a Slushee was the bucket of stinkbait.

I knew right off the bat that my friends were uneasy when they saw the mounted Jackalope by the front door.

Things got worse when we entered the building and were greeted by a toothless, gun-toting sodomizer.

Just kidding. There was a shotgun propped up in the corner behind the counter, but the proprietor actually looked more like Riff-Raff from Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Except wearing bib overalls. She was toothless, though.

My friends cowered in a tight huddle, glancing around nervously at the containers of leeches, night crawlers and other assorted fish bait. I was not afraid, as fish bait and bald, toothless women were a common sight for me as a child of the Ozarks. While my riding buds were busy being terrorized by leeches, I looked for the drink and frozen bait cooler. Drinks are always stored next to the frozen bait. It's probably a government regulation for rural bait shops.

I saw, under stacks of minnow buckets, a Coca-Cola chest-type cooler. The storekeeper's left eye saw me heading that way while her right eye watched the leeches.

She called out, "Sheen's busted. Sumpin widda gay-ers. Iffen ya wanna sodee we's gwanna hatta go gittum out the walkin roun' back."

I smiled brightly and said "OK," because I speak Hillbillyese, and fully understood that the vending machine was broken - some sort of mechanical failure involving the gears, but that soft drinks were stored in a walk-in cooler located at the rear of the shop.

The others remained where they stood, trembling at the front of the emporium, muttering possible translations of the conversation. I went out back leaving my buddies packed tighter than sardines near the front door. The leeches swam in their tank, occasionally stopping to bare their teeth at the leather-clad riders, who responded with moans of terror.

I returned with an armload of soda pop and extracted payment from everyone without having to threaten them with a leech. They teleported back to the motorcycles.

"Wha-what did tha-that person say?" they all asked.

Before I could answer, one said, "It sounded like she mentioned Martin Sheen, Christopher Walken, and something about gays."

Feeling a tad ornery, I leaned in and whispered, "Yes, there are a lot of Hollywood celebrities who come to the Ozarks to get their freak on away from all the press and photographers. They spend a lot of money in these parts though, so we try to keep it kind of hush-hush."

I had a hard time keeping a straight face, but they all seemed in awe of my insider knowledge. I was just about to divulge the truth when another pointed to a cornfield and asked, "What's that?"

I offered an explanation, and we departed. I grinned all the way back to the city, thinking about them telling their friends about the wild celebrity bashes in the Ozarks and how they'd seen real live spaghetti plants ready to harvest - you could tell they were ripe because the spaghetti was popping out the top of the pods and withering into brown silky strings.

It was worth the bugs in my teeth.

Turkey Humor 2008

2008-11-26T14:14:00.003-06:00

First, let me say that on this Thanksgiving, I am SO grateful for all of my wonderful friends who stop by this blog. You have shared the joy and laughter in my life, and helped me through the dark times. Blessings to all of you!

And now, a little humor:

Here is a turkey recipe that also includes the use of popcorn as a stuffing -- imagine that. When I found this recipe, I thought it was perfect for people like me, who just are not sure how to tell when poultry is thoroughly cooked, but not dried out. Give this a try.

8 - 15 lb. turkey
1 cup melted butter
1 cup stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is Good.)
1 cup uncooked popcorn (ORVILLE REDENBACHER'S LOW FAT)
Salt/pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brush turkey well with melted butter, salt and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn. Place in baking pan with the neck end toward the back of the oven.

Listen for the popping sounds. When the turkey's ass blows the oven door open and the bird flies across the room, it's done.

And, you thought I didn't cook...

Free Hugs Day

2007-09-10T12:53:00.000-05:00

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Then They Broke Down the Door

2007-09-04T08:01:00.001-05:00

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School Duhs

2007-08-30T08:00:00.000-05:00

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Wheelin’ and dealin’

2007-08-16T10:15:00.000-05:00

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Life is like...

2007-08-10T14:06:00.000-05:00

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Suicide Bambi

2007-08-02T20:08:00.000-05:00

Can woodland creatures become terrorists?

That is the only explanation I can come up with for what happened. (You know it’s gonna be bad, doncha?)

I was attacked by a militant deer.

I needed the car, so I did the insanity run, got up at 3 AM and rode out to Husband’s office in the next state. Followed the yellow brick road out of Kansas and back into Mazoorah. Almost made it safely home.

Almost.

Cruising down a rural road near a county lake, I passed the deer crossing sign. I’ve passed this sign hundreds of times, and always wondered, “How do the deer know where to cross?”

Turns out they don’t. At least not the one who decided to wait until I was coming down the hill in the rain. This animal HAD to be lying in wait for me, I’m sure of it. Hiding over there in the brush, plotting its jihad. This deer must have been brainwashed by an extremist forest fatah. Maybe it’s all the subdivisions cropping up. Maybe the cell phone tower signals affected its mind.

All I know is Bambi had a death wish and saw me as a suitable subject for destruction.

So down the road I go, when suddenly this suicidal doe attacked the car by flinging itself in front of the moving vehicle.

I had about two seconds of warning. I did slam on the brakes, but the next sound was “THUMP!”

Jane Doe bit the dust.

I felt horrible about killing the animal, even though it was clearly a suicide. I didn’t know how severe the damage was until I got home. Pretty bad. (Photos) This meant I had to cry, then pull myself together and call Husband. Then contact the insurance company. Then cry some more.

I took the car to the insurance claims office and they were very nice to me. They even told me that the rental coverage was going to be upgraded because they didn’t have a mid-size sedan available. Visions of Porches danced in my head - LOL

Then they took me outside. There was the biggest damn pickup truck I’ve ever seen. I needed an extension ladder to get up into it. I could see the roof of the building - below me. But it was what they had, so off I went in the bowels of MonsterTruck. It was the most uncomfortable vehicle I’ve ever driven, but I was so afraid of all the flashing lights and readouts, I didn’t let on. It was like being with Hal from 2001:A Space Odyssey. It told me what direction I was going, the outside temperature, how many miles per gallon (or more like gallons per mile) it was consuming, how many miles to our destination and my body mass index.

I hated it. Fortunately, they were able to exchange it today for a lovely little PT Cruiser. Cute. Fun to drive. Doesn’t make me think it will kill me in my sleep. Doesn’t take a hundred dollars worth of gasoline to get to the end of driveway.

Husband’s car will be in the shop until the middle of next week. I will be in therapy for months.

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Stunday

2007-07-23T10:08:00.000-05:00

For most of you, yesterday was Sunday. Here it was Stunday, as in a day of stunning events.

First, I was stunned (in a good way) to see a spike in book sales following mention by Chris Brogan, praising Queen Klutz. I’ve been pimping ...errr...promoting the book for months and haven’t seen this kind of sales. Maybe it was his honesty. Not many men would admit that their wife laughs in bed, but this brave soul left this twitter post:

God love ya, Chris!

I saw a similar spike following my interview with Liz Strauss.

I thank them both! Isn’t it great when the blogosphere smiles on you?

Then I was stunned (in a strange way) when Husband got gasoline. No, the act of gassing up the car isn’t stunning (expensive, but not stunning). He dropped Daughter and I off at the grocery store (scene of the non-juggling hair-hanger routine) and took off for the service station on the corner.

Daughter and I finished shopping and waited outside the store. We could see the station but didn’t see his car. We wondered where Husband was, and made up all sorts of fictions about what could be delaying him.

Truth is stranger than fiction, though.

When he pulled up to pick us up, he said, “You’re not gonna believe what happened.”

It takes a lot to send our Unbelievablility Meter into the red, but this did.

While he was at the station, and we were inside the store, he was approached by a scraggly fellow wearing a bandanna. (Not just a bandanna, but as the topper of his crusty, fashion faux pas outfit). Scragglyman asked Husband for a ride to the hospital.

Husband is no fool. He’s been around the block. Hell, he’s been around the world (and yes I mean that both ways - LOL) He sized up ScragglyMan, and determined that he appeared unarmed, non-threatening, and indeed in need of medical assistance. So Husband drove him to the ER.

Along the way, the tale of ScragglyMan unfolded. ScragglyMan’s recent past is...uh...”colorful”.

He needed a lift because he didn’t think he could walk the five more miles it would take to make it to the hospital. His medical emergency was that he was peeing blood now, after being on a meth bender for several days (or possibly months). He wasn’t able to drive because he’d lost his license some time back. Seems he’d been driving someplace to get some weed, and he got kind of tired, so he decided to take a couple of mini-whites, but it turned out they were tranquilizers. He fell asleep at the wheel of the car and had a wreck. For some reason (which he didn’t fully understand) the state saw fit to take his license way from him for this infraction. Oh and he was in mourning because his sister was recently found in a shallow grave. Fortunately they’d reached the ER by the time this bit of information came out, although Husband was never really worried because he is six foot four and ScragglyMan was small, frail and peeing blood (luckily, not in the car).

Even I couldn't make this stuff up.

Then we drove over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house. Armed with multiple pages of notes on possible fixes for taming the demon Vista, we again attempted to get the DSL to work. We tried them all. None worked. So with a sigh, I called customer service again.

I was stunned (in a "this-must-be-a-parallel-universe" kind of way) to get someone who spoke English without an India accent. I was even more stunned when he walked me through the setup again, but had me register the modem this time ‘round. Sweet Jesus action figure, things started to work!

So that was the solution. It seems so simple and obvious, I don’t know why one of the 150 people around the world (only one meaning - LOL) I’ve spoken to in the past few weeks couldn’t have told me this, but at least it IS working now. We turned the machine off and back on several times, and tested it in different parts of the house, and it was all good. (Knock on wood - LOL.)

So it was a stranger-than-fiction, stunning weekend here in Mazoorah. How was yours?

chris brogan

liz strauss

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HELP!

2007-07-17T10:33:00.000-05:00

I went to the grocery store last night, after a frustrating day of trying to get my mother-in-law’s computer to recognize the AT&T/DSL Internet connection we had made for her. We might as well have been trying to talk to the Mars rover. More on that in a moment.

It was hot - really hot, but not in a fun, Paris Hilton kind of way. We’re talking temperature and humidity in the 90’s.
I parked the car, went in for supplies, returned and unlocked the door. I was tired and frustrated. I flung the door open, tossed the sack onto the passenger seat, and dropped towards the driver’s seat as I pulled the door shut behind me. The key word in this sentence is “towards”. I did not make it fully TO the seat, as an updraft from the heated interior of the car caught my ponytail (I can’t stand this mat of heavy hair on the back of my neck when it’s 95 outside).

Just as the door slammed fully shut, the ponytail was lodged between the door and the roof of the car, suspending me, much like this circus performer, except less graceful and not juggling. If I had the equipment and ability to juggle it might have helped me attract attention though, which would have helped, because I was stuck.

I reached for the door handle, (not an easy maneuver) but the position I was trapped in, and the fact that I do not have six-foot-long arms, prevented me from popping the door back open.

I screamed, “HELP!”

This is a small town grocery store though, largely abandoned in favor of the Mart That Sells Walls (another Paris Hilton reference) over in the next town, and there were no patrons milling about, waiting to be amused by or helpful to, the Klutz Who Caught Her Hair In The Door.

I shuffle-bumped my body in a manner similar to the person in a movie who has been tied to a chair by the bad guy, (who never watches movies and thus leaves the tie-ee alone to shuffle-bump their way to escape) until I could feel the electric window button, which was closer than the door release.

I lowered the window and managed to contort my arm around so I could pop the outside door handle to release me from Hair Hell.

Hooray!

I was free, and now know I have alternative occupation skills if Barnum and Bailey are ever looking for a non-juggling, middle-aged hair-hanger. (Unlikely, I know, but stranger things have happened...maybe.)

Now, back to mom-in-law’s computer.

It seems that Vista is incompatible with DSL (all the geeks snicker and go, “like duh”). The people at AT&T did not tell us this when we signed up. (Double duh)

So I implore all of you clever folks who are technical wizards. Is there any way to get Vista to see the 2Wire DSL modem, which AT&T says “pings” properly? I am desperate. I spent all day yesterday (prior to my performance) trying to make the damn thing work. We disabled the firewall, lowered the security and privacy settings, re-installed the set-up and did a strip tease for it (grandma’s air conditioner is failing, but that’s a whole ‘nother post). Nothing worked. Vista is the most frustrating operating system ever designed by those sadists at Microsoft. I have spoken to so many help center people form India I should speak Hindi by osmosis.

We may just remove it and install XP because my head hurts, metaphorically and literally. Please help me before I hang myself (by my hair) again.

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Cave Boy and the Goblet of Squid

2007-07-13T07:00:00.000-05:00

Middle Son remains at home, as the person he is replacing in the shared household he and his lady-love will be joining, has yet to depart. The kid who was supposed to move out must have taken my death threats seriously.......

:)

Although he still lives here, he is no longer a McPloyee. He and lady-love both bid adieu to the golden arches for greener pastures. Then they went under them.

They are both now working in a cave. Honest.

Subtropolis.

It sounds like somewhere a superhero arch-enemy would hang out, doesn’t it? LOL
But it is a real place, the world's largest underground business complex, a subterranean industrial park with nearly five million square feet of leasable space.

Speaking of bidding adieu, I am in the process of getting rid of many of my Squidoo lenses. It’s nothing personal (despite my rant at Calacanis)

I just don’t have the time, or sufficient drug supplies (to DEA computer scanner - just kidding) to keep them up. So I’ve let others adopt them. Summertime is always busy here at the farm, and there’s bingo to go cheat at - LOL

My cup (or goblet, since I’m not above shamelessly leveraging the popularity of Harry Potter - lol) runneth over. Fare thee well, my little lenses!

Happy Friday the 13th to everyone!

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NO SEX SINCE 1955

2007-07-11T09:22:00.000-05:00

A crusty old Marine Sergeant Major found himself at a gala event hosted by a local liberal arts college. There was no shortage of extremely young, idealistic ladies in attendance, one of whom approached the Sergeant Major for conversation.

"Excuse me, Sergeant Major, but you seem to be a very serious man. Is something bothering you?"

"Negative, ma'am. Just serious by nature."

The young lady looked at his awards and decorations and said, "It looks like you have seen a lot of action."

"Yes, ma'am, a lot of action."

The young lady, tiring of trying to start up a conversation, said, "You know, you should lighten up a little. Relax and enjoy yourself."

The Sergeant Major just stared at her in his serious manner.

Finally the young lady said, "You know, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but when is the last time you had sex?"

"1955, ma'am."

"Well, there you are. You really need to chill out and quit taking everything so seriously! I mean, no sex since 1955!"

She took his hand and led him to a private room where she proceeded to 'relax' him several times. Afterwards, panting for breath, she leaned against his bare chest and said, "Wow, you sure didn't forget much since 1955!"

The Sergeant Major, glancing at his watch, said in his serious voice, "I hope not, it's only 2130 now."

Don't ya love military time?

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070707

2007-07-07T06:09:00.000-05:00

The Good The bad and the Adly

Today is supposed to be a lucky day - 07/07/07. I hope it’s lucky for you!

Any special plans for today? Does July have any special significance for you...a birthday, anniversary, special memory?

I have a few thoughts (often very few LOL )

THE GOOD
I got a very nice book review for my book of humor essays (some taken from this very blog - LOL)

I didn’t die in a horrible flaming car crash when the wheel fell off the car

My birthday is on the 29th.

THE BAD
Middle Son has informed me that he and his lady-love are going to move in together, which means he is moving out of our home. I will miss him and all of the topics he gave me to blog about - LOL

Eldest Son moved out ten years ago, when I was just getting started on the Internet. Daughter is 18 and going into her senior year of high school, so she’ll be gone before I know it. The cats better start doing some pretty funny stuff - LOL

THE ADLY
I love advertising. I know most people are annoyed by it, but I find the psychology of marketing fascinating.
Did you know that several 7-11 stores are being converted into “Kwik E Mart” to promote the new Simpson’s movie?

Over the weekend, 7-Eleven Inc. turned a dozen stores into Kwik-E-Marts, the fictional convenience stores of "The Simpsons" fame, in the latest example of marketers making life imitate art. Those stores and most of the 6,000-plus other 7-Elevens in North America will sell items that until now existed only on television: Buzz Cola, KrustyO's cereal and Squishees, the slushy drink knockoff of Slurpees.

Then there’s this new Wendy’s hamburger commercial, that shows a bunch of people in a forest, all kicking a tree. I thought, ”WTF” and was not alone - LOL I Googled it and there are a LOT of people asking “WTF?” The general consensus seems to be that the message is “don’t be like everybody else”. I think it’s great when a TV commercial cam get that many people asking, “WTF?” LOL It is just so bizarre and “random” (which is apparently the new “cool”)

Speaking of weird randomness. Is anyone watching John From Cincinnati on HBO?

Or have you seen “Black Snake Moan” with Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci? I caught both recently, and frankly, I think my weirdly cup runneth over - LOL

Black Snake Moan
Best wishes to all of you for a great weekend!

07 07 07

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Toad Strippers and Near Death Experiences

2007-07-03T16:06:00.000-05:00

I have had one hell of a week and it’s only Tuesday.

The “week” I am referencing goes back to last Friday though. Although the rains have finally stopped here, it was pouring on that day. It was starting to look Biblical. Then the plague of frogs struck.

I had gone to the roadside vegetable stand and picked up some fresh garden goodies for a dinner salad. When I got home and came up the driveway, it was considerably softer than usual. Then I realized I was running over thousands of frogs.

They were everywhere.

I stepped gingerly out of the car, and tried to avoid stepping on one as I made my way to the door. Then one of the little boogers jumped on top of my shoe. I was balancing bags of produce, and trying to maintain my balance, so I slowly lifted my foot and tried to fling it across the yard.

Instead, the frog (or toad - I never remember how you tell the difference and at this point didn’t care) leapt...not away, but up.

Up my pants leg.

I dropped the bags and hopped around in the pouring rain, trying to dislodge the critter.

Instead he climbed higher and higher.

A frog in your pants is not a pleasant experience. Since we live way out in the country and our house is not visible from the road, I did what I considered the next logical thing.

I stripped off my jeans.

I peeled off the dripping wet dungarees and gave them a good shake. The frog went flying.

I was relieved to be done with him, when I heard a noise. The electric company comes around at the end of every month to read the meter, and the truck was approaching. I screamed and fled, wearing my soaked-to-the-skin T-shirt and panties.

What do you figure the meter reader thought as he watched me scamper into the house in my undies, leaving a pair of wrong-side-out jeans lying in the mud beside a cucumber?

LOL

On Sunday, Husband and I went for a drive and the car started making a funny noise. Funny noises are never really funny. He suggested I take it to our trusty mechanic on Monday. Of course this meant driving it over to Kansas and back to get him to work.

About halfway back, the noise intensified and it started vibrating. It was so bad, it shook the review mirror off the windshield. But what was I going to do? It was 4 AM and nothing was open. My kids were asleep at home, and Middle Son was depending on me to wake him up to go to work. So I just kept going and going, like a demented Energizer bunny - LOL

I slowed down and crept along on the back roads as I got closer to home. I was praying (seriously) "Please God, just get me home". She did - lol

I pulled into our own driveway and made it almost to the house, when the car slammed to a stop, as the wheel had fallen off.

I walked up to the house, stunned. I sat on the front porch, watched the sunrise and smoked a cigarette.

Then I woke Middle Son up and posted my pre-written mustache

When the mechanic opened, I called the tow service and had it hauled up there. They tell me that the last time the tires were rotated, (not by them) the lug nuts weren't tightened properly, and they slowly worked their way off, the last one taking the swan dive there in the driveway. They said if it had happened ten minutes sooner, when I was on the freeway, I would have had no control and likely would have slammed into a bridge piller, dying a horrible, flaming death (because the rain had stopped, just so I could fry, ya know - LOL)

I wrote to dear friend Amy and told her about this, and she said if I had died she would have written me a nice blogituary, a word she created for the horrible flaming death of a beloved blogger.

I promise to do the same for her.

Wishing all of you a joyous Independence Day!

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Why You Never Leave a Child Alone

2007-06-25T15:08:00.000-05:00

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Under No Cicumstances

2007-06-21T09:24:00.000-05:00

Do NOT go out in the early morning hours to garden, mow grass and pull weeds where there is poison ivy, then rush inside and go to the bathroom without washing your hands.

Excuse me now while I go scoot my butt across the rug like a dog.......

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Snakes on a Drain

2007-06-18T09:12:00.000-05:00

It’s over!

Well, not really, we still have a lot of unsold goods and not-so-goods to pack up, but the doors to sell hell are closed.

It was hot. If you ever wanted to r-e-a-l-l-y get to know your family, (and I can’t imagine why you would want to - trust me) spend several days in a double-car oven, working at a garage sale with them, while all manner of humanity wanders by, pawing through tools and treasures.

The tools sold well. The treasures...not so much. There isn’t a lot of demand for fur coats in June. And everyone seemed to be able to live without a Rockwell collector plate.

The massive depression glass collection displayed in my previous post has been trimmed a bit, but as groovy so succinctly noted, few people are interested in one more thing to have to dust. I see an eBay store in grandma’s future.

The Campbell’s Soup cups and glassware that Peter noticed didn’t draw any takers. Perhaps we should have included actual soup.

On the last day of the sale, I dragged myself out of bed at 4 AM and sat on the toilet, rubbing my eyes and face. I felt severe stubble around my eyebrows, and realized I hadn’t plucked in days. I pulled open the makeup drawer and got out my trusty tweezers and magnifying mirror. Raising the mirror to eye level, I attempted to focus my bleary vision. In the mirrored reflection I saw not only my eyebrow stubble, but something slithering.

I spun around (not easy to do when you’re sitting on a toilet) and saw a small snake retreating behind the faucet. Apparently the lack of human activity in the house and the excessive outdoor temperature had driven the little bugger indoors. I can speak rationally about this now, but when I first spotted it, all I did was scream.

A screaming woman trying to exit the bathroom with her panties around her ankles, after flinging tweezers at a snake at four o’clock in the morning is a sight to behold, I was later told by my amused husband.

The snake was equally terrified.

Husband (my hero!) threw a towel over the terrified snake, carried it outside and released it. Since we live out in the country, this has happened a couple of other times in the 20-odd years we’ve lived here, but I will never get used to it.

But it made leaving to go haul two tons of stuff out onto a driveway, a whole lot easier.

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My Husband’s Butt and Other Finery

2007-06-12T14:59:00.000-05:00

Well, we’ve moved 8,729 pieces of stuff into my mother-in-law’s garage.

Every one has been washed, so it is not the unwashed masses yearning to be free - it is the washed masses yearning to be sold.

The sale to end all sales (I hope) starts tomorrow.

Every member of the family was drafted into service. Mom-in-law, myself, husband, both sons, daughter and an aunt, have all gathered priceless treasures and deposited them in the garage.

Toby, the cairn terrier was more interested in retrieving anything that was placed low or on the floor, grabbing it and dragging it back into the house, though. Toby does not like change. Toby thinks we are crazy. Toby is right.

Despite Toby’s best efforts to maintain hearth and home as he knew it, the garage is now packed to the brim. The sale starts tomorrow. My sanity should return some time next week.

Here are some pictures - my favorite is of my husband’s butt, which, even when we’re exhausted, will cause me to wink at him when he turns to ask me for more price stickers.

Click to enlarge (the pictures, not my husband. I’ll handle all of his enlargements - LOL)

Mom is selling more than 250 pieces of Moon and Stars depression glass in all colors.

And dozens of collectors plates.

There was so much stuff, we had to put the overflow in the living room.

See the craigslist ad here:

There’s more, but I’m too pooped to post - LOL

Gotta go make more signs now....hope all of you have a wonderful day!

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Twittering Scrotums

2007-06-03T07:37:00.000-05:00

Caution: This post contains political incorrectness

It’s 4 AM and there’s a fat man in leopard prints pants on TV. I don’t know why.

The satellite TV isn’t working because it’s raining. It’s been raining forever. I wanna know how big a cubit is (a free humor book to the first person who can tell me what a cubit is)

I can only get three local channels without the magic satellite signal, and I can’t check the on-screen guide to see what retarded old movie this is. Two of the local channels are showing infomercials. Even in my depleted mental state I will not watch an infomercial. That leaves some 90’s teen movie on the remaining channel. It’s colorful, and has pirates, which should be enough for my reduced brain function.

Ahhh...pretty colors...nooo, brain is insisting it must know...stupid brain. I Google the only celebrity I recognize, Corey Feldman, (Googling Corey Feldman sounds like fun, but only would be, if Google was wearing a studded leather dog collar and carrying a whip.)

Here we are...the best review (unedited, cause that’s what makes it “special” and yes I mean retarded) from IMdb:

National Lampoon: Last Resort - this movie was soooooooooooo FUNNY! I seen it on USA when i was obsessed w/ corey feldman and i used to tape all his movies that were coming on....Anywayz while i was watching it i couldnt help but realize how stupid it was but thats the whole point!

Uh, OK. I got up for this?

No, I got up because of the friggin’ rain. Incessant, mind-numbing rain. Rain that drips like Chinese water torture and keeps me awake and yes I know that saying, “retarded” or “Chinese water torture” is politically incorrect and I don’t give a flying monkey.

A flying monkey carrying a letter of the alphabet.

This is how I explained e-mail to my mother-in-law.

How did we get from retarded pirates to my mother-in-law?

It’s easy when you’re me (thank your lucky stars that you’re not).

As loyal readers know (all three of you, since I never have time to visit anyone else’s blog and therefore my readership has fallen like so many incessant raindrops) I’ve been spending a lot of time with M-I-L. She’s family, and she needs me, so it’s OK that I’m losing my mind.

She bought a computer.

She’s planning an estate sale to get rid of a lot of Pop’s things, since he passed away in February. Now it’s June. God, how’d that happen? Anyway, she has all sorts of collectibles that she wants to sell, and some people at bingo suggested we put them on eBay. Damn them. So she wanted a computer.

Guess who gets to teach her how to use it?

Ever tried to explain the Internet to your grandma? After a while you just sigh and say that there are tiny flying monkeys that take the words off the screen and carry them through the phone line to somebody else’s computer.

About to lose my mind from all of this, I bitched to Amy, who has the patience of a saint. Amy is a smart woman, whose advice to me was, “Never let her see your blog.”

Amy, who is wise in the ways of the Internets also hooked me up with Twitter.

Twitter is a new (to me anyway, since I get to spend about four minutes a month online these days) website that lets you leave little IM-type blurbs about what’s driving you crazy.

This is another thing I will not be showing Grandma

Grandma is not grasping the basic terminology of cyber-world.

She wanted to make lists of the things that we are going to look up on eBay, so I installed Word on her new computer. Grandma called it Microwave Word.

I enlarged the font, once I got out of the bathroom, where I went to hide and laugh without hurting her feelings.

Now she calls it Microscrot. Picturing an operating system designer with a miniaturized scrotum is easy after you spend a few days trying to figure out Vista. Get me the dog collar and whip again.

The Worst Salesman in the World warned us. We went to look at computers and talked to SuperSlacker.

He informed us (in exasperated faux geek talk) that all new computers are equipped with Vista and there’s nothing you can do about it. Nope, you can’t install an operating system you know how to operate on it - voids the warranty.

He went on to say that nothing would work with it, not even the free printer in the ad that drew us to the store.

Grandma didn’t understand anything he said after “Whacha want?” (Which I’m sure is in the employee handbook as the proper way to greet customers wanting to drop hundreds of dollars in your lap) and SuperSlacker assumed (wrongly) that I knew nothing about computers. Ha! I speak geek you fool! (I may not actually understand how all of this stuff works, but I know the terminology by God, and can BS with the best of them).

Plus a menopausal, sleep-deprived woman who’s driven ten thousand miles to haul her mother-in-law to the computer store in the incessant rain is not one to mess with.

I laugh at your extended warranty offer! No - “DPI” does NOT stand for digital photographic images, it’s dots per inch, you jackass! I will NOT purchase anti-virus software for $49.99 when I can download AVG for free! You will NOT sell me a five-dollar printer cable for twenty-seven bucks!

Now stop quivering and carry it all out to the car or I’ll sic my tiny flying monkeys on you.

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Blood Cell - Fiesta Night on the Deathstar

2007-05-22T08:04:00.000-05:00

Blood is thicker than water.

That’s supposed to be an analogy for family comes first. Or instructions for janitors. I forget.

I forget a lot these days. It’s the lack of sleep. Or the drinking I do when I’m awake - LOL

Family. Do you ever just wanna shoot yours? But then there’s all that damn blood to clean up. Which is a real pain. Just ask Middle Son, who was selling his bodily fluids (donating plasma) when he began to feel faint, and looked down to see the tube that was supposed to be returning his red cells to him, was instead depositing them onto the floor. He called me with the news that he might be late for dinner since he was essentially bleeding to death and wasn’t sure how long it would take the emergency technicians to bring him back to life.

There’s nothing like having your child call and use the term “emergency technician”. Chalk up another “mommy’s heart stops” moment.

I love my family. I’d do anything for them. But there are days...

I’m still spending a lot of hours on the road and away from home in an effort to take care of my family. The drive is made more unpleasant by exorbitant gasoline prices. The “family of man” seems to be one of the lesser concerns of our Evil Oil Overlords.

Then there’s dealing with the Family Plan. As in telephones, or as I’ve come to know it, Cell Hell.

We have yet to get a bill from the Cell Hellions that is correct. The freshest Hell is Husband’s phone.

Husband is, or rather was, an employee of the provider (an oxymoron if ever there was one). Then the provider decided to fu-, errr...change things in what they considered our too-perfect world.

Husband’s department was aborted by the parent company and tossed into the biological waste bag of a spin-off organization. Some sort of horror movie transformation took place and a monster grew. A monster that is actually making money. This seemed to annoy the Cell Hellions, who have frittered away their small earnings on recording endless-loop voice menus for their “help” lines. They expressed their ire by changing coverage for their demon spawn. All previously-free phone service for employees was killed, in a massacre designed to drive me insane.

I am certain that Satan himself runs the parent company (They both start with the same letter of the alphabet) and he saw that Husband was exceeding performance goals, helping make the demon spawn profitable. Satan said, “There shall be no joy in Mudville!” (or some other rip-off of classic literature) and axed the free phones.

Of course it had to LOOK like a magnanimous gesture, (‘cause that’s how Satan works) so it was cloaked as a “transfer of service”. Ha. Good one, Satan. And of course Husband was too busy exceeding performance goals to deal with Satan, so he assigned me the task. I have more experience, anyway.

The promise of a new and better world was a ruse. Like duh. The “no-cost transfer” memo didn’t get sent to the billing department. They saw the end of the original contract as a termination, worthy of a pound of flesh, and sent an exorbitant automatic debit to the bank. The bank that owns the ATM that ate my debit that lives in the house that Jack built. (You know I'm getting crazy when I start quoting Dickens - LOL)

Suddenly, the bank account is gutted and bleeding. I always keep one eye on the bank account, because ya never know what sort of shenanigans those hoodlums are up to. I saw red - figuratively and literally. WTF is this? Why did the phone company steal our money?

I called. I went through the three hours of endless-loop voice menus. I questioned. Oops, our bad, sorry. Sorry my ass, get the money back in the account and cover the overdraft fees. Well, that’s really between you and your bank. We can only issue you a statement of an erroneous debit. You’ll have to go to Fiesta Night on the Deathstar by yourself.

Fine. I gird my loins, have a stiff drink, and deal with the bank bastards. I have driven ten thousand miles, kept my mother-in-law alive and happy, arbitrated Regulations of Adulthood with a teenage girl, and explained a complicated phone procedure to a man in Calcutta, in the last few weeks.

They didn’t have a chance. The phone charges were reversed, the overdraft fees were annulled, and a fresh bottle of whiskey was purchased.

Middle Son is regenerating bodily fluids and I have sobered up for the next Attack on Sanity.

Jack Daniels and I are ready.

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Stick it to me

2007-05-11T11:15:00.000-05:00

What a week this has been!

Daughter is now 18 years and one week old, and is convinced she is an adult - LOL

She has become obstinate about bedtime and other rules that I, her darling mother, chose to impose on her for no apparent (to her) reason. She has decided to repeatedly stick it to me with reminders that she is now 18. Gee honey, thanks for that, I forgot since you told me three minutes ago. Since you’re all grown up, be a good girl and go get mommy a bottle of liquor - LOL

It has rained, dear gawd how it rained! Perhaps you’ve seen the news regarding flooding in the Midwest. That’s my house floating down the river - LOL

Just kidding. We’re 15 miles from where houses are washing away, but we did get enough rain to make life miserable. Power and Internet access have been sketchy, because this is an old building and all things mechanical and electronical *snicker* hate me.

I apologize for not visiting and commenting. To those of you who “tagged” me for memes or lists, I haven’t had the time to participate, sorry.

What little time I am able to access the Word Wide Web, I’m working, deleting spam (grrr) or checking the ever-depleting bank balance (grrr to over $3 a gallon gas prices that stick it to those of us who pile up automobile miles faster than those crazy people who stack sports cups, a new fad I totally do not understand, which must be proof that I am getting old and I digress way too much - sorry) and trying to figure out who’s got their fingers in my pie. Literally.

I bought a pie at the grocery store the other day. A lovely cherry pie. When I got home (Digression alert! Getting home was no easy task, as the main thoroughfare to town was flooded so I had to take the go-through-the-country-on-the-winding-washed-out-road-
with-one-lane-bridges-and-blind-hairpin-turns) and unpacked the bags (sinful me, they were made of environmentally-unfriendly, flipping-the-finger-at-Mother-Nature plastic! Sorry, digressing again) my pie had a giant hole in it. Yes, I had a pie hole.

It looked like the cashier or bag boy had poked their thumb (or some other appendage that I don’t even want to consider) smack into the middle of my sweet cherry pie. (Oh great, now I’ve got that song stuck in my ever-digressing head. I’m told the proper term for a song stuck in your head is “earworm,” but that sounds really gross and is too reminiscent of The Wrath of Khan, and dammit I’m digressing in my digressions. Grrrr again.) Gawd knows what other indignities my no-longer-a-virgin pie was subjected to. I didn’t want to think about it, so the entire pie bit the dust in the bottom of the trash can. Bye, bye Miss American pie (another earworm for all of you playing along).

(Dang, this is supposed to be funny and cheerful - don’t worry, be happy, don’t even think about THAT song - LOL) At least the sun is shining today! Hooray for sunshine! Hooray for mothers! Happy Mother’s day to all you mothers! Wait, that doesn’t sound quite right...well you get the drift, or the float, if you live around here.

Peace and joy to all of you!

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Daughter Turns 18

2007-05-04T07:39:00.000-05:00

Today is my daughter’s birthday. She turns 18 and I turn into a teary-eyed mess every time I think about it - LOL

This has been an incredibly busy week, and I won’t be home any today, so I’m posting a chapter from Queen Klutz, explaining my excessive sentimentality and tendency to weep at the drop of a hat.

Best wishes to all of you for a beautiful weekend!

CHAPTER 7

High Salt Generator

Hi, my name is Marti, and I am a weeper

Middle Son is now a High School Graduator.

I am now a High Salt Generator.

We gathered the family, (also known as the Tribe of Tribulation) under the midday sun for the commencement. Of course before leaving the house I had to repair my makeup because he looked so adorable in his cap and gown…and I cried.

I looked at all of those shining young faces, marching in unison towards the stage and their destinies, resplendent in their blue and white…and I cried.

The class valedictorian gave a stirring speech, her voice cracking near the end, and naturally…so did I.

As each student’s name was called, and they proudly ascended the stairs to receive their diploma, I was thinking the same thought as every mother there…“Don’t trip going up the steps”.

None did, and I sighed.

When the choir(which included Middle Son) sang, “May You Always Have A Song,” Husband smiled at me and whispered, “May you always have a tissue”.

This, of course, made me cry.

When the fireworks went off following the benediction, Eldest Son (a 1996 graduate...the first class to graduate from the new building) remarked, “Geez, we didn’t even have running water out here for ours,” but I knew he wasn’t really upset, as he gently nudged me, sporting a warm, wide grin. I elbowed him back, and rested my head momentarily on his shoulder.

Then I cried.

When Daughter mentioned that she would be in the 99th graduating class - well, you know.

Of course the Tribe is used to it by now. Eldest Son and Husband took photos for me, knowing mine would all be out of focus. After our first few years together, Husband grew weary of having to remove tear-induced mascara stains from the camera.

I cry at anything even remotely emotional.

I cry at news of births, deaths, weddings, and graduations. I cry at the sight of kittens and puppies.

If anything causes me to say, “Awww,” my eyes are leaking. Baby products and long-distance-calling-plan commercials reduce me to eye-dribble.

Hi, my name is Marti, and I am a weeper.

When the students tossed their mortarboard caps high into the air, sailing skyward with the tassels trailing like rocket exhaust, I followed them upward with my eyes, and the silent prayer in my heart, “Don’t land in the mud”.

When they didn’t, I smiled.

But there were teardrops dribbling into the corners of my mouth.

When the principal said, “I present to you, the graduating class of 2004!” I thought, “Gawd, I’m old”.

And I laughed.

Later, we attended the Grad Night party - and what a party it was! (Kudos to Best Friend!) Fun, food, games, laughter, and Middle Son avoiding his mother like the plague, lest she break out sobbing or try to hug him.

I hobbled from place to place with my cane, and the considerate youngsters moved aside, their politeness speaking volumes about what great parents they have; parents who’d become my friends while I was working on the Grad Night Committee. Just thinking about them…(grabbing for tissues).

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I have embarrassed my children with goodbye kisses in front of their peers. I have mortified them by calling out, “I love you!” as they got out of the car. I have cried at every play, choir and band performance.

I have sobbed at teacher conferences, hearing good news or bad. (It never swayed the grade.) I will probably never overcome the crying, and will be doomed to a lifetime of clutching tissues, sniffling, and dabbing discreetly during sad movies, and all manners of emotional events.

It is a part of who I am.

The blutzy weeper, long may she drain.

The soul would have no rainbow

had the eyes no tears.

John Vance Cheney

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Crazy Says Wha-?

2007-05-02T05:59:00.000-05:00

OK, this has been an insane week, and its only Wednesday - LOL

Busy, busy, busy, too much to do. But the craziest thing in my world isn’t me (for once).

Over the weekend here in Kansas City, there was a nut job guy who went off the deep end and shot up a shopping mall, killing people.

I’m sure all of you remember how after the Virginia Tech shooting, the crazy guy showed up all over the news, with his “final messages”. All the news outlets played them. Then they all apologized, and agreed that showing them was wrong, wrong, wrong. Shouldn’t glorify a madman.

So what happens here? The nut job leaves a final message and yup, you guessed it, it is on the news. Even worse, they are telling us that this sick, sorry SOB was living without running water, so he had been (quoting the news) “depositing his bowel movements in a kitty litter box”.

Cats across the land are horrified.

Has our society just lost every brain cell? What in God’s name are they thinking, broadcasting stuff like that? Damn if I know. I’m tired and cranky and have 10,000 things to do today, and the LAST thing I want to hear about when I flip on the TV at 3 AM is where a killer took a dump.

I hope all of you have a better day.

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When implants go bad

2007-04-25T08:10:00.000-05:00

Grandma in denial

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Click here for larger view and more pictures of this grandma in denial - if you dare! LOL!

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Doublethink

2007-04-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

Ya know those days when you say, “What did I do to deserve this?”

I’m having a good one. Really. (Crowd gasps, the weak-of-heart faint dead away.)

I was selected by not one, but TWO fabulous blogging buddies to receive a, “Thinking Blogger Award”.

In the spirit of giving and receiving, I would like to thank the two friends who nominated me. (*cough*yourcheckisinthemail*cough*) LOL

The participation rules are simple:
1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.

So of course I gotta tell ya, that Amy over at Amy's Musings is the finest anti-soccer, not-a-mommyblogger blogging mother. She always speaks with a true voice. She always makes me smile. She graciously designs this blog for me, along with coding Jedi, Joefish of Feast of Crumbs (You gotta love a guy who can use dog poop as a child-rearing tool - LOL) Amy is always patient with me when I get some hair-brained idea to add something to the sidebar and throw the whole thing into chaos. She listens to me when I rant in long obscenity-filled e-mails. She is a helluva good friend.

Karen Lee Field of Scribe's Writing Desk also tagged me. She's a terrific writer and blogger. She is an Australian fantasy writer of children’s chapter books. She has a quiet dignity and grace that I envy. Her posts are always thoughtful and filled with great information about writing.

For blogging, writing, and life coaching there is all-round smart cookie, Liz Strauss of Tuesday Open Mic Night, where bloggers gather for fabulous conversation, through hundreds of comments in a few short hours. Also check out SOBCon A fabulous event coming up for, “Taking Your Blogging to the Next Level”.

If you are interested in books or writing, check out Grumpy Old Bookman and literary agent Nathan Bransford for intelligent and wickedly funny insights.

For scathing and hilarious political commentary, I read Tony’s Kansas City. Tony profiles himself as, “Local artist/crackpot“. Even though we live out in the sticks, Kansas City is “my town”. I love its rich history of corruption, and nobody covers the happenings and modern-day debauchery like Tony.

For travel, there is no one finer than Lazy Blogger. LZ Blogger is a serious misnomer when you read the fascinating posts about his travels.

If you’re looking for some great recipes, I love The Queer Chef. Chase hails from the Philippines and currently lives in Norway. He is a charming and talented web designer and film student, in addition to offering heavenly delights for you. And cute as a button!

For business, there is nobody smarter than Seth Godin. Author of multiple best-selling business books and founder of Squidoo. His blog is filled with witty and insightful remarks, and he has a heart of gold, making sure that Squidoo offers every user the opportunity to donate the earnings from their lenses (free webpages) to a charity of their choice. We've given over $25,000!
He exemplifies what Web 2.0 is all about - innovation and communication.

Need a laugh? I know some funny people! For essays, there are the Mikes -
Michael Wicinski of The A.B.B.
And
Mike Cook at A Twist of Humor

And if you want jokes, visit Hoss over at Old Horsetail Snake
Or Miss Cellania

Or It Occurred to Me

Well, I overdid it again. That’s my style - LOL! I love every blog in my blogroll, and it was so hard to try to narrow it down. And I simply have to get a plug in for Groovy Old Lady who has a review of my book, Queen Klutz: The Misadventures of a very Clumsy Woman. I’m almost afraid to tell you this, but it seems the bad luck rubbed off on her! As soon as it arrived, she got hit with the noreaster storm, had her power go out, slipped on the steps and had all of the electronics in her house go crazy.

I have that effect everywhere I go - LOL!

Best wishes to all of you for a wonderful day!

W W # 19 In Memoriam

2007-04-18T04:53:00.000-05:00

"If Everyone Cared"
by Nickelback

From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I, I'm alive

[Chorus:]
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died

And I'm singing

Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive

And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I, I'm alive
(I'm alive)

[Chorus x2]

And as we lie beneath the stars
We realize how small we are
If they could love like you and me
Imagine what the world could be

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died
When nobody died...

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

You don’t need to be a participant to comment!
For information on joining the fun, and the getting the blogroll code, please go here.

PLEASE NOTE:
This is a NEW world headquarters for Wordless Wednesday!

Wordless Wednesday
Virginia Tech

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Happy Friday the 13th 2007

2007-04-13T16:07:00.001-05:00

Sure, a lot of people are superstitious and think this day is unlucky, but I’m thinkin’, what could go wro...

LOL

Cube has a hilarious comparison of Don Imus and the Cryptkeeper - worth a visit for a laugh!

Of course you can always count on Miss Cellania and Peter for fun!

And finally, Friday the 13th in Africa

Happy Friday the 13th everyone!

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Planet of the Oops

2007-04-10T10:09:00.000-05:00

Post-Apocol...errr...Easter greetings, my friends! I hope you had a delightful holiday!

I miss the days when the kids hunted for eggs instead of contact lenses and their mother’s sanity - LOL!

Yes, Daughter has joined the ranks of the Poke Yourself in the Eye Club. She got contact lenses.

She is having trouble doing something that seems unnatural (unlike her mommy - lol) such as jabbing a piece of plastic onto her eyeball. I hear, “Oops” a lot, eventually followed by sobbing and cursing, so we are returning to the optician today for additional masochism lessons.

:)

Meanwhile, MommyWorld has suffered an attack by the Evil Banking Empire. (insert The Imperial March - Darth Vader's Theme)

My debit card with was stolen. Eaten actually.

Daughter and I went to the ATM located at the bank where the debit card reports my every move. (I’m sure it even tells them how white my whites are, and the frequency of my bowel movements.)

I inserted the card into the machine, chose "English" and the amount of dollars I wanted it to spit out. I entered my PIN number and the screen lit up with the message, "Please take your cash."

Would that I could, since no cash was forthcoming. I waited, hearing its whirring little innards trying to grant my wish. Then silence fell. No dollars. I stared at the machine. Nutttin. I stared harder. I realized no dollars were going to leap into my hot lil’ hands, so I hit "Cancel". Nuttin. I hit,"Clear". The screen continued to read, "Please take your cash" which was becoming annoying since none was proffered.

I searched the machine for a phone number to contact in the event of a malfunction. There was none. I circled the bank on foot, but all of the moneychangers had left the temple. Another car pulled into the drive-through behind my car. I instructed Daughter to go tell them the machine was malfunctioning, and they backed out, to avoid being engulfed in the Sphere of Doom which I was emanating.

I attempted to call the bank. Mistakes are not uncommon with this facility, so I have their phone number on my cell phone. No one answered. The recorded message explained what numbers to select if I wanted a home mortgage, or to purchase a 10-year CD, but there was nothing in the case of the machine eating my card and holding my dollars hostage. I called the police, who told me in so many words, that I was screwed, it wasn't their problem, and to contact the bank.

I went home and checked my online banking, which showed the transaction. I tried checking the phone book and the online site for the bank, but no matter what number I called, I was asked if I wanted a mortgage. I did not. I became an angry drunk and ranted until all of my family members cringed and fled.

In the cool light of morning I sobered up and typed out the sequence of events, printed the letter and drove to the bank. I was told that when the machine was torn apart (the thought of which gave me a thrill) that my card was not "captured". At least it was it spared being forced into making a false confession. I however, was forced to sign an affidavit stating that I did not receive the dollars the machine had refused to spew. I was told the card would be cancelled, and a new card with a new number and new PIN would be issued in approximately two weeks.

And so goes my life. Time to go supervise more eye-poking.

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Happy Easter 2007

2007-04-07T11:43:00.000-05:00

For a chuckle, please visit last year's post, "Easter Peeps".

Wishing all of you a delightful weekend!

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Dumbass Day

2007-04-01T11:43:00.000-05:00

God, save me from the dumbasses of the world.

Still doin’ the insanity run, and this week I witnessed some particularly spectacular dummassedness.

It rained much of this week, and that seems to draw out the crazies like a full moon. They were all out on the freeways, a tour de force of foolishness.

There were the semi-truck drivers who expected to get from Memphis to Seattle in three hours.

There were the afraid-of-water drivers (are they going to melt?) who hid under the overpass at the first drizzly drop. Of course they never make it fully ONTO the shoulder, so they are taking up half of the right-hand lane, causing all of non-melters to swerve around them.

But the King of the Krazies was about five car lengths (or one-tenth of a second to the truckers) ahead of me. I knew it was gonna be trouble.

He was driving a rustbucket pickup truck, towing a homemade trailer. The trailer was constructed of paper-maché, balsa wood and bungee cords. He was carrying a load of scrap metal in it, which was tied down with Band-Aids.

He hit the Puddle of Doom and it was all over.

The trailer disintegrated. Melting like the Wicked Witch of the West and the overpass cave-people.

I’d been watching him, ‘cause I knew. I could see what was going to happen because I was on the road behind him and that’s how Fate works. Fate’s one bitter bitch.

I slowed at the first signs of the meltdown. A semi-truck tried to mate with the Neon. Neon was highly offended.

I moved to the far right lane and slowed more, just as the spillage began. Cooper wire, aluminum cans, and old auto parts, all leapt to freedom and danced gaily on the asphalt.

Briefly.

Then they were mangled and crushed under the wheels and undercarriages of an assortment of vehicles. At least those who didn’t veer into my lane. Then smash into each other.

Oh it was a glorious scene...if you’re a tow truck driver.

If you were me (thank your lucky stars you’re not) you’ve spent the day chasing down various medical personnel to try to get a straight answer as to why your mother-in-law is doubled over with pain from her kidney stint, and r-e-a-l-l-y don’t want to spend the next four hours waiting for the road to be cleared of asshats.

But alas, asshats abound. They in fact, multiply, duplicating dumbassedness at an extraordinary rate. Have you seen the movie, ”Idiocracy”? I think it’s a documentary of the future of man - LOL
Rent it - I guarantee you’ll laugh and understand what I mean.

But I digress.

Traffic was now stopped. The instigator of the event exited the rustbucket with a confused look on his inbred face. The noise and chaos were baffling, too intense for his feeble IQ to comprehend.

And I had had enough.

I got out of the car and approached him, as did several angry yuppies, all climbing out of their SUVs-that-have-never-seen-dirt, and BMWs. It was a sight to behold...an army of upper-middles...and me. The hillbilly, whose family tree does not fork, trembled.

I was tired, hungry, cranky and wet from drizzle. I had had enough. So I shot him.
.
.
.

The finger.

Then I got back in the Neon, watched the screaming match where the redneck was severely pummeled with insults he didn’t understand, and figured out what to write for April Fool’s Day.

Happy jesting to all of you!

Did you see a dumbass this week? I declare today “Dumbass Day”!

Share! Get it off your chest and share your experience with some moron. I know they're everywhere, so tell us your tale.

dumbass

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Worst Analogies in History

2007-03-26T05:42:00.000-05:00

*He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

*She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.

*The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

*McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.

*From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and “Jeopardy” comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30.

*Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

*Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

*Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

*He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

*The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

*Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man.”

*Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

*The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

*John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

*The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.

*His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

*The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.

FROM: Worst analogies from high school essays

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Dress for Success - Again

2007-03-20T06:32:00.000-05:00

I'm off to bingo today, so I'm giving you an encore performance (a rerun - lol)

COSTUME CRAZY

In addition to all of the colds, stuffy noses, sore throats and flu symptoms the Tribe of Tribulation has been though this year, I have endured a Major Mommy Meltdown from Wardrobe Malfunction.

No, not like the infamous halftime debacle, but from having to invent several costumes to conjure up the look of many far-away lands. Conjuring up made mommy a witch by last week’s end.

Daughter needed a new costume for every school day last week, as they were having international spirit week (which was not, as I quipped to an eye-rolling family, ghosts from foreign countries)..

The entire family chimed in with suggestions. We discarded those with the risk of serious bodily injury, such as Human Olympic Torch to celebrate Greece, or lopping her head off so she could portray Marie Antoinette of France.

They were off Monday for President’s Day, so I was spared constructing an Abe Lincoln beard, suit and top hat. Alternately, I avoided the George Washington powdered wig fashion statement. What a relief, I wasn’t looking forward to carving those wooden teeth.

Tuesday I had to dress her as a Greek. Various mythological figures were considered, but the armless Venus de Milo, while easily recognizable as representative of Greece, posed significant logistical problems, as the technology of removable arms on teenage girls has yet to be invented. Once we threw out the incendiary ideas, her Greek motif was relatively easy – white sheet toga and laurel leaf crown.

The next day was to celebrate our neighbors to the south. We nixed Giant Taco, on the off chance that some New-Year-Resolved soul who has been dieting for months now, and is hallucinating about food, would spy her and believe that at last, enormous edibles are actually walking in their direction.

We finally resolved the quesadilla quandary with a Mexican sombrero.

Thursday was Asian, and she really wanted a kimono. Ever tried to find a Kimono in Missouri? We have. And in Kansas, on the internet, at thrift shops, through the Yellow Pages, and begging for referrals at Oriental food markets and restaurants. I even called her Japanese teacher in desperation. She got a good laugh from the question. “Ha ha! You’re not gonna find a kimono anywhere around here!” She was still chuckling when we hung up. I’m sure it is an amusing anecdote she will share with her grandchildren someday.

I ended up sewing the kimono and the wide “obi” belt. It took all night.

Friday was “France.” It was the end of the week and Mommy Madness Costume Chaos was setting in.

What kinds of images come to mind for a costume when one thinks “France”? French maid? Nooooooo, we are NOT dressing my little girl up like THAT! Napoleon? She would have to walk around all day with her hand on her stomach to pull that one off…no, I don’t think so.

A giant Champagne bottle? No alcoholic references are allowed at school, Daughter firmly informs me, missing the increasingly insane glint in my eye, and that I was only making a bad joke. I was silently wishing for a giant bottle of bubbly by now. A French Fry was my next suggestion, which was met with much groaning and eye rolling.

Apache Dancer? This one elicited “the look” from Husband, who thankfully still leers at me after almost thirty years together. “It’s for your little girl,” I remind him, and the idea of Daughter-directed leers from the rest of the world was enough to nix that notion.

“Well, what are your friends going to do?” I implore, a tortured tinge in my tone.

“Oh! They got a bunch of Mardi Gras beads at the dollar store, they gave me some too…(much digging through backpack)…see? I’ll just wear these!”

Ah. Yes, I see. OK? Oh, of course I’m OK. No, just ignore that pile of pulled-out hair at my feet, dear, I’m saving it. We may have to make a gorilla suit someday.

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Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2007-03-17T12:23:00.000-05:00

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Flu pi

2007-03-14T10:27:00.000-05:00

Today is pi day.

I’ve never been a worshipper, but I find it interesting that there are people who worship at the church of pi.

I’ve been worshipping at the porcelain throne. A stomach flu bug has sidelined me. March madness here is the dash to get to the toilet before one or more orifices explode, expelling the contents of my innards.

So I have to make this brief. Not this brief, which does seem apropos, though, considering...LOL

It is actually a safe! A place to hide your valuables!

Gotta run (groan, horrible pun)
Happy almost wordless Wednesday!

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Wordless Wednesday
pi day
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DMV Deathstar Strikes Again

2007-03-08T09:37:00.000-06:00

Do you believe in miracles?

I think we should contact the Vatican for verification, because (insert angelic music with horns trumpeting) we have more than one working vehicle at our house!

Of course (being us) it came at a price.

Monday we had a medical emergency. Once the threat to life and limb was handled, we returned to husband’s car to discover a flat tire.

One of the four very new, very expensive tires.

Husband replaced the offender with the mini-tire from the trunk. He checked the deflated tire for signs of damage, expecting (being us) to see Satan’s pitchfork imbedded in the rubber.

Finding nothing, off we wobbled, (the Neon does not like having the donut tire installed and tried to shake it off all the way there) to rake the tire man over the coals for selling us a tire that would choose to euthanize itself.

Tire man blamed a bad valve stem. I shook my finger at it mightily, while scolding, “Bad valve stem! Bad!”

Tire man replaced the naughty valve, and husband and I returned home, expecting a quiet day.

What fools we are.

Son had the day off, and had vanished while we were gone. Not unusual, he disappears better than Houdini.

Then the phone rang.

“Uh, mom, is dad there?”

I hate it when conversations start like that. I said yes (being an honest though leery mother). Then he uttered those beautiful words. “I think I’ve found a car to buy.”

After the disaster of his last vehicle purchase, he had decided to have his father take a look at it before handing over his hard-earned McMoney.

So off we went on the Great Car Adventure.

The seller was a minister (thank you, Jesus). The car was in tip-top shape, with complete maintenance records. If you can’t trust a man of God to sell you a used car, the world truly is going to Hell.

So the purchase was made, and the next day the lad headed for the DMV for licensing.

The Deathstar DMV. The same DMV office I was in, when a native of Calcutta asked me, “Is this place always so hot and crowded?” (Read my experience at the DMV ( Diarrhea Mathama Voodoo) post here)

Prior to entering the gates of Hell, the lad had visited the plasma center to sell his bodily fluids for dollars to appease the Sales Tax gods. It left him in a weakened state, which is never a good idea when you are entering the gates of Hell.

The queue was (as always) massively long. The temperature of the room was just shy of being inside a blast furnace.

Son began to feel faint.

Later (after the ambulance was called) he told me that he was woozy but didn’t want to lose his spot in line. Unfortunately they do not save your place in line when you collapse, passing out cold onto the hot tile floor.

Yet he persevered. (That’s my boy!) Once the medical personnel revived him and he refused to be carted off to the hospital (because Spike the cat had warned him that hospitals are very bad places) he called me.

“Uh, Mom? You’re not going to believe what happened.”

This is never the way to open a conversation with your mother.

“The emergency medical technicians are gone now.”

Oh Lord. I thought they were going to have to call one for me if the conversation continued along these lines. I urged him to be a bit more specific.

“WTF IS GOING ON?!?”

So he related the tragic tale. I insisted he return home so I could verify that he was breathing. Then the brave lad traveled to a different DMV and completed his business.

I was so proud.

So now (insert angelic music with horns trumpeting) we have TWO cars that run, at our house.

Don’t tell Satan.

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I Got Caught Cheating

2007-02-27T18:13:00.000-06:00

I tried to be cautious.

I was casual, glancing around and smiling to cover up my indiscretion. I tried to be subtle, and to employ subterfuge to hide the truth.

But I got caught.

“Marti, you didn’t cover up B 12!” chided my mother-in-law.

It was true. I’ve been doing it for weeks now.

Cheating at BINGO.

I just couldn’t bring myself to claim one of the prizes...a box of Kleenex or cereal from the table where the numbers caller sits, rolling the basket of colored, numbered balls.

I was in a room full of munchkins (old people shrink, I was the only human being there who was over five feet tall) at the Senior Citizens Center, where I’ve driven my sweet mother-in-law to play bingo three times a week every since Pop passed. They had welcomed me with open arms.

“Oh, you’re driving Maxine now! That’s wonderful, just wonderful!”

Looking at their adorable little smiles, hugging them gently, (fearful of breaking them) I watched as they played their cards passionately. Seeing their anticipation as they came closer to winning. Seeing the resignation on their wrinkled little faces if someone at another table called out “BINGO”. (There is camaraderie amongst table-mates, and barely-under-their-breath grumbling that so-and-so at another table plays five cards or wears a wig. I’m not sure how wig-wearing came to be so sinful, but it is held in high disdain).

And I couldn’t bear the thought of taking one of their prized prizes.

So I cheated - to lose.

I would hear the number called but not cover it up on my card. I would casually sip my water. I would cough or blow my nose. I would do everything short of shouting, “Look, a truckload of Depends has crashed outside!”

All of the table-mates had been telling me I must be terribly unlucky. That I should get a different card, with “better numbers”. I would smile and say that was OK, I was having fun.

Then I got busted.

Mother-in-law started watching my card for me. She must have thought I was so simple-minded that the concept of covering up the number as it was called, completely escaped me. She started pointing out the numbers on my card, insisting I cover them.

So alas, I won. Sigh. I tried to give the prize to her, but she would have none of it.

Anybody need a box of Kleenex?

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Marti Sends Her Love

2007-02-14T05:57:00.000-06:00

Boy: Mom asked us to write this message for her.
Girl: Because she has been real sick.
Boy: She wanted to wish all of you a Happy Valentine’s Day.
Girl: And let you know she isn’t dead.
Boy: That’s not funny, what’d you say that for?
Girl: She told me to.
Boy: But Grandpa just died, I don’t think people will think that is funny.
Girl: Mommy said her friends are kind of twisted and they will laugh.
Boy: Mom has pneumonia. I don't think she knows what is funny right now.
Girl: HAD. She is getting better. Now it is more the dizzy and puking thing.
Boy: Vertigo. She has vertigo. Don’t say puking, that’s gross. She told us to say she was vomiting.
Girl: Hey, I am the one who has to dump the barf bucket, I know how gross it is.
Boy: I don’t know why she wouldn’t go to the hospital.
Girl: She said anybody who has ever worked at a hospital avoids them if they are conscious.
Spike, the Cat: I am glad she didn't go to the hospital. Grandpa was in the hospital, and all of you left me here alone for hours at a time.
Boy: We’re sorry, Spike. (Pets kitty)
Spike, the Cat: Don’t treat me so condescendingly, I’m not stupid. I sit on the Girl’s lap when they watch Gray’s Anatomy. I know what a hospital is. It is a torture factory.
Girl: Spike is right.
Spike, the Cat: (Purrs) I don’t like being here alone. The house makes creepy noises, and there is that shadowy thing that only I can see, that scares the crap outta me.
Boy: So are we done?
Girl: Mom said you would say that.
Boy: She said we had to write it on the blog. This is the blog, right?
Girl: She said we had to send the link to the e-mail people. And the Squid people.
Spike, the Cat: (Stops licking self, looks up) Tell me of these fish people.
Boy: No, Spike, they are the Squidoo people she works with. She wants them to know she will be back.
Girl: Once she is over the pneumonia and puking.
Boy: (Sighs) She said...oh never mind. You just did that to annoy me didn’t you?
Girl: What are little sisters for?
Boy: Happy Valentine’s Day, sis.
Girl: Happy Valentine’s Day, bro.

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Pop has passed

2007-02-01T16:02:00.000-06:00

My father-in-law passed away this morning.

It's a strange place I'm in right now. I am so sad, it is crushing. Yet I know that we all die. And I feel like he knew that Mom-in-law, with her Parkinson’s, wouldn't be able to care for him at home, even though that was what a part of him longed for. He was in a lot of pain. He knew that his quality of life was never going to be the same. He'd seen us all...my oldest son had stopped by, we'd been there, Mom-in-law was there, my husband’s brother and his wife were there.

I am trying to be metaphysical about it, soul ascending to a higher plane, this lifetime is but a blink in eternity, all that sort of crap - lol

But the moment is still so raw, it's hard.

I can't begin to thank you all for your friendship.

Love,
Marti

PS - he'll be in some good company at the newcomers lounge, with Art Buchwald and Molly Ivins, huh?

PPS ~ I searched for words of wisdom form someone more clever than I, and ran across this. I found it quite comforting. Robert Anton Wilson, prolific futurist author and countercultural icon passed away January 11. He had been suffering from post-polio syndrome. So there is another lively thinker in the lounge.

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Beautiful 2000

2007-01-30T18:37:00.000-06:00

Can you find me?

I’m in some mighty fine company! Friends in the collage include:

Beaman

Ben

Bug

Cat

Char

Dariana

Julia

HART

Liz

Logic

Matt

Mike

Miss Cellania

Peter

Rod

Sandy

Seth

And a big thanks to Tino who brought it all together

This is such fun! I want to click on everyone - LOL

I’m sure I missed some, but I have to get up to the hospital now. There are a lot of pictures and I don’t know what many of my blog buddies look like! Let me know and I’ll add you!

My father-in-law is still not doing very well. His pneumonia got worse, his blood pressure is down and his urine catheter caused bladder bleeding. When he is conscious his lucidity is in and out. It's very nerve wracking. And not easy to blog about, much less make funny. I’ve got a lot of funny stuff on here, check the archives or buy the book - LOL http://lulu.com/martilawrence

Anyway, I'm trying to catch up on a few friends today, and wanted to say hi to everyone.

Peace and joy to all of you!

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Mmmmm

2007-01-26T13:07:00.000-06:00

Marti as an m & m character

Purple, ‘cause that’s my favorite color
Blonde hair, ‘cause...like, duh - lol
Wearing eyeglasses, ‘cause I’m damn near blind without them
Sensible shoes for a woman with two metal ankles
Coffee cup, due to sleep deprivation

Make one of yourself for your blog!

I could say something incredibly crude like eat me, but that would be wrong. LOL

After the week I’ve had, I think it’d be more like “bite me” anyway.

Pacing the halls in a hospital is hideous. Zero on the fun scale. Father-in-law’s condition has swung wildly back and forth, blood pressure unstable, in and out of coma. Fortunately, his condition is starting to stabilize. Mine has deteriorated into blathering incoherence. So I needed a little something to make me smile, and when I saw Hillbilly Princess had this cute little m & m character (complete with crown and fishing pole - LOL) I decided to make one for myself.

Also, today is Amy’s birthday!

So jump over and wish her well! She designed this beautiful template, which I need to request an update for, since Christmas was a month ago - LOL!

I thank all of you who continue to stop by, since I haven’t had time to visit much.

Still waiting (tapping foot impatiently - lol) for more of you to weigh in on the Million Dollar Meme - what you would do (or not do) for a million dollars.

(I know I'm nagging, I'm stuck on these "m" things today - lol)

Someday when you come up blank on what to post, consider answering, ‘k?

I hope this finds all of you well, and that everyone has a fabulous weekend!

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Whatta Week

2007-01-20T12:46:00.000-06:00

A little more than a week ago the ice storm started. What fun (if you’re a tow truck driver)! Went slip-slidin’ away back and forth on the insanity run.

The jackass brigade was out in full force...morons with bald tires, small brains and big egos. Ain’t no ice storm gonna slow them down! That telephone pole they wrapped themselves around does, though.

Monday was Martin Luther King Day, and the irony of ironies occurred. I actually saw a commercial for a MLK white sale. Seriously.

Tuesday everything went to hell. My father-in-law fell on the ice. Broke his hip. Laid on the ice for fifteen minutes before anyone found him. Once they got him to the hospital, they discovered a heart murmur that my mother-in-law explained to them he has had ALL HIS LIFE. He’s 89. Healthy as a horse (prior to the busted hip anyway - lol)

But they wouldn’t do anything for the hip until they could have a specialist look at the heart, because God fuggin forbid they run the liability risk of doing anything logical.

So he suffered for a full day (“No, I don’t like taking pills,” he grimaced at the offer of pain medication, unlike me, who, whenever I am broken, gladly accepts and pleads for more - LOL)

We got them to slip it into his IV. Me and mom-in-law are sneaky bitches - LOL

Got an offer to go eat at, “A great new Mexican place”.

Not. Not. Not.

Taco Bueno is awful. Beyond awful. I would have sooner eaten gauze bandages at the hospital. Used ones.

So now he’s recovering. Didn’t have to have total hip replacement, as once the doctors figured out their malpractice insurers would allow them to FIX him, they were able to put a pin in his leg to put the bone back together. Has a touch of pneumonia in one lung, but is improving.

Meanwhile, I am still gagging at the mere thought of the world’s worst enchilada.

S’posed to get six inches tonight. (Snow you gutter-minds - lol)

Hope this finds all of you well!

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WW 17 Ice Storm

2007-01-17T06:51:00.001-06:00

Ice Coated Pine Needles

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Should I be worried?

2007-01-15T10:09:00.000-06:00

Like everyone who uses the Internets (snicker) I get a lot of spam. Spam e-mails, spam comments, spam blurbers at Squidoo.

But today, my spam e-mail was not for ways to enlarge my penis, have a Nigerian send me millions of dollars, or asking me to forward this to 20 people so my wish will come true.

Today I got power chair scooter store, and plan your funeral.

Is there something someone isn’t telling me? LOL!

- - -

We are under a winter weather advisory - a bit of an oxymoron for the middle of the geographic US in the middle of January, but that’s why the meteorologists get the big bucks - LOL! We’ve got lots of ice. If only I had some vodka!

- - -

Need a laugh? My sense of humor is frozen. Clearly, we need to legalize all drugs - LOL

Even without drugs, (but with her beloved unstirred coffee - lol) Amy has a hilarious piece about waxing her you-know-what (and I don’t mean her coffee table).

- - -

Still waiting (tapping foot impatiently - lol) for more of you to weigh in on what you would do (or not do) for a million dollars. Someday when you come up blank on what to post, consider answering, ‘k?

- - -

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Acceptance Speech,

on the occasion of the award of the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo, December 10, 1964

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality.
This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.
I believe that even amid today's motor bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow.

I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men.
I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.

I believe that what self-centered men have torn down men other-centered can build up.
I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive good will proclaimed the rule of the land.

"And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid."
I still believe that We Shall overcome!

Complete text

- - -

One year ago, my original blog, Digital Doorway, Enter the Laughter (all content has been transferred here) was named to the Blog Herald’s "100 Blogs in 100 Days" list! I am still extremely honored!

- - -

I know this is an incredibly dull post. Sorry. We can’t seem to shake the flu, it is five degrees Fahrenheit outside and my brain is dull. We got three inches of sleet so I am just glad to still have electricity. Daughter was scheduled to have the day off, and husband dropped Son of at McDonald’s on his way in to work, so I was spared the slippery wetness, which is not anywhere near the fun of, “new guy wetness” that some friends who’ve recently begun dating again have been discussing. *snicker*

Sorry, I can’t discuss it any further, I am bound by the Covenant of Silence (cos) - LOL

I do hope that 2007 is treating all of you well! Smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another, right now.

Martin Luther King Day
Million Dollar Meme
Squidoo
The Blog Herald

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New Holidays for a New Year

2007-01-07T12:48:00.000-06:00

Mark your calendar with the multitude of new holidays to celebrate. Here’s just a few of to get you started…

The Day the Music Died Day: February 3
Write a sappy song about an important cultural tragedy that will annoy bar patrons for generations.

National Jingoism & Violence Day: February 4
Collect a group of two dozen or so well trained men assigned to represent your city or region. Face off against another such group of well-trained men. Beat the living sh*t out of each other. (aka Superbowl Sunday)

Bitterness Day: February 24
Ten days have passed since Valentine’s Day, so there is no chance the red-heart card was slow in arriving. No one loves you. Go get roaring drunk.

Reverse Cowgirl Day: March 3
Honoring a woman’s right to choose positions. (Formerly Women’s Suffrage Day)

Hale-Bopp Day: March 22
Remember 1997? Best year EVAR? Well, things won’t be that good until 4380, so your cult will have to wait for its next mass suicide.

International 420 Day: April 20
Dude!

Mission Accomplished Day: May 1
Celebrate the United States'’ quick and clean victory in Iraq.

Jim Belushi Day: June 15
Hire your brother to do something he’s not qualified to do. (aka National Nepotism Day)

Mike Tyson Day: June 30
Threaten to eat someone’s children while feasting on delicious elephant ear pastries.

Los Alamos Day: July 16
Celebrate the first ever nuclear explosion near Alamogordo in 1945 by blowing some sh*t up. (aka Trinity Day, Oppenheimer Day, I Am Become Death Day)

Self-Love Day: July 26
Enjoy the company of the person you love best in the recesses of your favorite public place. May we suggest Barnes & Noble? (aka Paul Reubens Day, Pee Wee’s Play Day)

Adult Swim Day: September 2
Skip work, get high and watch Space Ghost until you pass out.

National Accessory Day: September 14
In appreciation of the belt, the hat, the handbag and, most importantly, the scarf. It was on this day in 1927 that famed modern dancer Isadora Duncan’s scarf sealed its importance in the annals of history by wrapping itself around the axel of a car and broke its owner’s neck.

Seat Belt Remembrance Day: September 30
What better way to celebrate the life (and, more specifically, death) of legendary actor and motor enthusiast James Dean, than with a holiday remembering seat belts?

Ted Haggard’s Gay Republican Day: November 1
Purchase recreational drugs from your favorite same-sex prostitute, but don’t pay for intercourse. That would be hypocritical.

Mutilated Nipple Day: November 4
Legend has it that this holiday originated way back in 2004 when actress Tara Reid bravely unleashed her mangled areola upon a pack of ravenous paparazzi and saved the world from something or other.

The Clinton/Lewinsky Blowjob Joke Appreciation Day: November 15
On this day, stand-up comedians and late-night talk show hosts around the nation celebrate the greatest gift that was ever given unto them.

Autoerotic Asphyxiation Day: November 22
Things to do today: fashion yourself a festive Asphyxophilia Noose, masturbate, and listen to Inx’s “Kick” twenty-two times on repeat. (aka Michael Hutchence Memorial Day)

Britney Beaver Day: November 27
Today, innocent girls all around the world flash their junk.

Entropy Day: December 30
Holy sh*t! Did another f**king year come and go already?

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When the Moon Hits Your Eye

2007-01-03T13:04:00.000-06:00

Like a big pizza pie, that’s a new year.

I know this, because I’m in the center of a giant astrological compass, with the sky and starys spinning around me. No, I am not on drugs and singing, “Good morning, Starshine, the earth says hello”.

God don’t I wish - LOL

See, we are situated high on a hill. And this allows the seasonal north/south shift of the sun and the moon to be more noticeable.

In the summer the sun sets over the barn - in the winter, it sets over the south barbed wire fence. (Bet that hurts - lol)

And the first full moon of the new year smacks me right in the face, coming in through the bathroom window with its shiny, eye-piercing beam.

So y’all can have Dick Clark, or this totally insane Japanese New Year greeting, which simply has to be seen to be believed, courtesy of Miss Cellania. Guaranteed giggles (and nakedness! lol)

I know it’s the New Year when I get mooned. LOL

I missed Tuesday night chat at Successful Blog last night, but it was for a worthy cause. Well, maybe not “worthy” but entertaining - LOL

We rented, Snakes on a Plane on its first day of release. It didn’t quite live up to the hype of the young clerk at Blockbuster who claimed, “You have made the best decision of your life! This is the BEST MOVIE EVER MADE!”

I smiled what Husband calls my, ”You’re-a-moron” smile. He knows it well - LOL! Not from being the recipient (not too often, anyway - lol) but from having been with me when we found ourselves in the company of morons. I try so hard to be polite...I know many of them simply can’t help being morons.

The movie did provide us with considerable giggles, and an evening of shared family entertainment, which is priceless.

Speaking of what you can put a price on, (smooth segueway, eh? lol) I could sure use some help filling out a meme blog-link-list about what a person would be willing to do for a million dollars.

I won’t be cruel enough to “tag” anyone with the meme...it is strictly voluntary.

Amy, and Miss Britt have been kind enough to post their thoughts.

There are ten questions, and a few suggestions for things to consider when answering. You can write your own questions too, if you want. Answers get added to the list, which is getting a lot of attention, so I guarantee you’ll see some return traffic from adding your answer to one or all of the questions. It just looks kind of pathetic only having my answers on there, so please add some - LOL

Plus you can read my dirty-girl answers *giggle*

You can list you blog there yourself or let me know, and I’ll add your links.

I resolved to link to my friends more often - can you tell? LOL! I hope all of you are having a great 2007!

Million Dollar Meme
Squidoo

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A Blondes Year in Review

2006-12-31T10:23:00.000-06:00

January - Took new scarf back to store...... it was much too tight.

February - Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels...... bottles won’t fit in typewriter!

March - Really got excited..... finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months..... the box said “2-4 years”!

April - Trapped on escalator for hours..... power went out!

May - Tried to make Kool-Aid.....8 cups of water won’t fit into those little packets!

June - Tried to go water skiing..... couldn’t find a lake with a slope.

July - Lost breast stroke swimming competition..... learned later, other swimmers cheated, they used their arms!

August - Got locked out of car in rain storm..... car swamped, because top was down.

September - The capital of California is “C”..... isn’t it?

October - I just Hate these M&M’s..... they are so hard to peel.

November - Baked turkey for 4 ½ days..... instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108!

December - Couldn’t call 911..... there’s no eleven button on the phone!!!

Wow...... What a year!!

Personal note of stupid humor:
I saw a headline on Yahoo this morning...
"Hundreds flock to see Saddam's gravesite"

I misread "flock" as a more obscene word. Made me think, "Man, those people wiill do anything to see this guy dead!"

LOL

Wishing all of you a Happy New Year!!

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Ornament Wars

2006-12-26T10:22:00.000-06:00

I have just returned from battle - the Ornament Wars.

I was among the hardy souls standing at the door of the Hallmark store, watching through the plate glass as the “50% off” signs went up all over the store. We eyed one another warily, sizing up the competition.

We were battle ready...comfortable shoes, loose clothing, credit cards drawn (overdrawn in some cases).

Mental notes to self:

“Watch that one, she’s checking an eBay price list tucked in her breast pocket”
“That one is arthritic - I can take her”
“A man - he looks scared. But the woman with him is offering erotic encouragement. ‘Get me Winnie the Pooh, and the honey pot is yours tonight,’ she whispers. He swells with renewed vigor (snicker)

The door was flung open and we attacked! Patton’s assault on Palermo was no less fierce.

“Grab the Celebration Barbie,” cried out a Five Star Grandmother to her more fleet-of-foot aide de camp (granddaughter). Alas, the inexperienced child fell by the wayside, as the hardened troops advanced.

I was on a mission. I had spotted a lone Star Trek Enterprise, tucked behind the multiple Mickey Mouses. I wrestled my way to it, growling at honey-pot man. His hand continued to move toward it, but I tossed a Pooh high in the air and he made a diving catch, worthy of a Super Bowl receiver.

I clutched my treasure while skirmishes continued to be waged.

“That’s MY Tweety!” snarled a Sergeant Shopper.

“I need to reload! Get me an empty basket!” shouted a foot soldier.

I made my way to the front lines...the checkout. Only 30 minutes in and the infantry was already hollow-eyed. Their fingers bloodied from paper cuts, they grimly bagged the spoils of war.

I glanced back at the battlefield, ravaged and barren. I sallied forth, my plundered hoard nestled near my bosom and sighed, glad to have survived to fight another day. Look out dollar store, I’ve got you in my site!

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Silly Christmas

2006-12-19T12:50:00.000-06:00

I was at Aldi this morning. It’s a discount grocery store. They’re very basic, warehouse style stores, but they sell a damn fine can of corn for 29 cents. Bread is 50¢.

I buy a lot of stuff there - LOL

They carry odd lots and discontinued merchandise too, so you find Halloween costumes there in November.

I laughed out loud at the display I spotted this morning though...Britney Spears perfume. Yup, the stuff that she has those nonsensical commercials for, that JUST CAME OUT. I mean, Aldi makes Walmart look like Macys, so that gives you an idea of what a high-end product she is peddling - LOL

It just made me laugh. I am easily amused.

I also get a laugh from yard decorations gone awry. Saw a Santa and reindeer, made of solid molded plastic, in front of a house. The wind had blown Santa over though, and he was lying across the back of the reindeer, Since he was unbalanced, the wind rocked him back and forth. It gave the appearance of Santa gettin’ it on deerie-style.

Furthermore, there is a large inflatable snow globe thing down in town that has made me laugh for weeks now.

Inside the inflated clear plastic spheroid (thank you Thesaurus - lol) is an inflated white snowman. There is an air pump that circulates fake snow, to give the appearance of a real snow globe. Except they set it on a bit of a slope, so the pump doesn’t spew the white flakes up to the top of the clear outer globe, but instead spurts them out about butt-high of the snowman. He looks like he has severe flatulence. We absolutely roar with laughter every time we go by it. We even laugh when we see properly working ones, just thinking of the farting Frosty.

I am easily amused.

I am going through the ol’ blogroll, to send each of you good wishes. I know I don’t visit often, and I apologize for that. I wish I could, as I truly enjoy hearing about your lives.

And just for giggles, here are the latest additions to my funny t-shirts:

Happiness can’t buy money

Subliminal Message Experiment

Too subtle? LOL

So...have any of you seen some funny Christmas stuff?

Christmas
Britney Spears
Farting

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Hard to Find Toys WW 15

2006-12-13T05:17:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday #15

My Little Pony Glue Factory

Peeping Tommy Night Vision Goggles

Shiite Pet

Wishing all of you a safe and happy holiday season!

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

You don’t need to be a participant to comment!
For information on joining the fun, and the getting the blogroll code, please go here.

PLEASE NOTE:
This is a NEW world headquarters for Wordless Wednesday!

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Wordless Wednesday
Holiday
Christmas
Kwanzaa
Chanukah

Embrace the insanity

2006-12-08T06:37:00.000-06:00

I’ve decided to stop bitchin’ about the insanity run.

So what if I’m driving 400 miles a day on a highway system that was designed by M.C. Escher?

Exits to the left of me, exits to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle lane, screwed.

Granny the brake tapper is in the slow lane, and I hate being behind her, never knowing if there is an actual REASON to be slowing down or if she was just frightened by a leaf blowing across the street. Grr, I hate brake tappers...stop or go, bitch. Yeah, I called granny a bee-otch. She can learn to drive without riding the brake or get off the freakin’ freeway.

Roddy the Redneck with his souped-up monster truck which is 40 feet tall and goes 110 miles an hour is in the fast lane, and I don’t blame him. If you’re not willing to significantly break the speed limit, stay out of the fast lane. Plus it’s twenty below zero and ain’t no donut-eater gonna chase you and have to get out of their nice, warm cruiser, unless you pass them at the speed of sound. On fire. And having sex in the backseat. (Sex in the backseat will draw a cop out like a moth to a flame.)

I’m cruising along safely in the middle, at nine miles an hour above the speed limit. (Karen and I believe we won’t get stopped unless we exceed by ten - LOL)

I love the middle lane. Except when I get trapped between semi-trucks. Then it’s like that old Saturday Night Live skit, “A Night at the Roxbury”with disco beat, “What is Love?” blaring in the background, and I am the unsuspecting soul stuck between the two cocaine-addled, nose scratching, shiny-suited dancers who sumo-bump you back and forth between them.

Kansas City proudly boasts the most miles of roadway per capita. We have a freeway that goes to each person’s house. And they’re all eight lanes wide, but only one is open due to construction.

Sarah Winchester is in charge of maintenance, and believes it must never stop..

So during yesterday’s drive, I went five miles without ever getting out of first gear. My left ankle is the size of a tree trunk from riding the clutch. Why are people so stupid? There are flashing signs set up every five feet, warning of closed lanes ahead, yet most of the idiots don’t bother to try to get over until they are on top of the orange barrels. Then suddenly it’s, “Oh crap! There is no more road in front of me! I must muscle in on someone who is in the one open lane!”

Screw that. You can sit there until your teeth fall out. I was smart enough to get over three miles back.

But of course there’s always some kindly soul who lets them in. Then we all pay. Traffic in our one open lane slows, then stops. When we do move, we creep along only inches at a time. I stare straight ahead, so the morons can’t try to motion to me to let them in. Don’t wave your hand at me, fool. Learn to read.

And PLEASE, don’t get on the freeway in your $40,000 pickup truck with a butt-ugly French Provincial armoire in the back. Yeah, I followed you yesterday...all the way from the estate sale where you blocked the road so I couldn’t get by, while you loaded the damned thing into the back end of the truck. Then you tied it on with Christmas ribbon and put your SEVEN-YEAR-OLD back there to steady it, and pulled out in front of me. THEN you got on the interstate highway and went 14 miles an hour, lest you damage your treasure (not the child, but that hideous piece of furniture).

Yes, I am the crazy blonde who flipped you the bird when I finally got around you. I hope the damned thing crushed you when you unloaded it, and your sweet child inherits a ton of insurance money, if for nothing else than to pay for therapy to understand why their father could afford a fancy-ass truck and expensive furniture, but wouldn’t hire someone to move it, preferring to endanger the life and limb of their child and other drivers.

Oops. I was going to embrace the insanity, wasn’t I?

{{hugs}}

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Marti is Making History

2006-12-01T05:56:00.000-06:00

One of my fellow Squidoo lensmasters tested the notion of selling a Squidoo Lens for fun and profit! I loved the idea and decided to give it a go. I'm not expecting a big financial payoff, but I'm hoping this will gain Squidoo some press exposure and show people how much fun running a lens can be.

I would appreciate any mention of this auction that you could provide. I believe this is only the second sale of a Squidoo lens, and the first to receive any outside publicity. Many Squidoo lenses are set to donate to charity, so even if the purchaser isn't interested in the income potential, they could donate the earnings to a worthy cause!

Please help me spread the word!

Thank you - I hope you have a fabulous day!

Marti Lawrence

---------------------------

Lens for Sale

Bette Davis Eyes

Great information, great pictures, great income potential! Has
moneymaker modules for i-Tunes (song downloads), Amazon (DVD's and
books) and eBay (assorted related merchandise).

Ease of operation! All moneymaker modules are set to automatic fill
with current auctions or popular items for sale. There's still a ton
of information out there about this magnificent actress, so updating
will be a breeze!

Make history by being involved in one of the first Squidoo Lens Auctions!

Bid right here!

Auction runs one week, from December 1 to 11:59 PM December 7, GMT

See time zone map here

11:59 PM December 7, 2006 Greenwich Mean Time = 5:59 PM Central
Standard Time

TERMS OF SALE
This sale turns over the existing content and all future income from
this Squidoo Lens to the purchaser. No physical materials are
transferred, nor does this sale give the purchaser any rights that
would violate the Squidoo Terms of Service Agreement.

Opening Bid = $5 USD
Terms of Payment = Paypal

This sale will be heavily promoted! Get your name included in the press coverage!

squidoo

for sale

making history

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Ice Syn and Quer

2006-11-30T11:15:00.000-06:00

Ice Ice Baby
We in the Kansas City metro area are in the throes of an ice and snow storm. Roadways are skating rinks, I ain't goin' out there.

Here's what our last big ice storm looked like. This is our driveway, the trees are bent over under the weight of a solid one inch coating of ice.

My debut novel, River of Possibilities is now for sale.

Because I am a kind and generous soul, (and so modest - lol) and I believe that giving leads to receiving, you can read the COMPLETE novel online.

I loved researching all of the paranormal stuff that is in the book, and I loved writing it, but my synopsis sucks - LOL!

So I'm having a contest.

Help Me Syn
I am not happy with the synopsis for the novel. (And you thought I just couldn't spell "sin" Trust me, I'm an expert on sin *snicker*)

So for two weeks, there is a contest. Write the best synopsis. Or the worst. Any synopsis. The whole book is free online.

Winner gets a free print copy of the book. I'll post all entries, y'all vote. A free print copy goes to the winner. I'll be turning to friends to spread the word, and would appreciate links.

I'd also like some samples of great query letters. I've read lots of examples of great queries, but I get real stoopid when I try to write my own.

So...

Let's Try Quer
A SECOND contest (with free print copy as prize - like duh, I'm trying to promote this book - lol) which will also be judged by readers.

Both contests end December 7, at 11:59 PM

Thanks! Can't wait to see what you come up with!
river of possibilities
synposis
query
competizione

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Happy Thanksgiving A Freebie

2006-11-23T17:12:00.000-06:00

I love all of my Internet friends.

It still amazes me that this technology allows me to meet such wonderful people from all over the world! As a a way of expressing my deep appreciation of the friendships I have made, I am offering my new novel to everyone FOR FREE!

If you visit this blog, you can read the entire book online. I started this project on the first of the year, and I posted a single page every day.

I thank all of you for reading my mental meanderings. I hope that each of you will take time today to count your blessings, even the little ones we often take for granted...a home, our families, our health.

I wish you all peace and love (‘cause I’m an old hippie and that’s what we do - LOL)

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The Talking Pocket

2006-11-17T07:38:00.000-06:00

Howdy, all. I’m still as beat as a slow mule, but had a little funny this mornin’ that I thought I’d share.

This gettin’ up at 3 AM crap makes everything seem funny to me though, so maybe it really ain’t. Let me know. Or not. Hell, I don’t know when I’ll ever get back here LOL

I’m powerful sorry for not visiting anyone lately.

First off, yes, both my car and son’s car are still dead. I still drive 8 million miles a day to get hubs to work, come back, get daughter to school, come back, get the boy to McDonald’s, come back, run errands, come back, go get hubs, come back, go get the boy, come back...then die. LOL

I fall asleep around 6 PM these days.

But this morning, as I was driving husband’s car (that I am still not familiar with) I started hearing a strange little beeping noise. “For the love of gawd, WTF is that?” I wondered. I didn’t really care to investigate. The car was still travelling down the road in a reasonably straight line...that was good enough. But when I dragged the lad from slumber and he was getting read to leave with me, he said, “What’s that noise?”

I gave him the blank zombie mombie look that is pretty much permanent now. He gently lifted my purse off my shoulder and investigated.

I had hit some damn button on my cell phone when I jammed it into my purse, and its little camera was trying to capture an image of the linty interior.

He chuckled and said, “Something like this happened to me the other day. I accidentally hit this button (pointing to button so zombie mom would comprehend) and it somehow redialed the last number I had called. My girlfriend picked up and started saying, ‘Hello? HELLO? HEY!!’ I was at work, and all of a sudden there is a voice calling out from my pants pocket. That gave everyone a good laugh.”

For some reason (probably sleep deprivation) I found the Talking Pocket quite hilarious. Somebody slap me.

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Cat Turkey Smackdown

2006-11-15T07:49:00.000-06:00

click to enlarge

I was looking for funny cat pictures this morning, and I found this. It came from a website that is in a foreign language, so I have no idea what they’re saying about it, but it made me laugh. LOL

Sorry for not being around, real life has been a bitch lately.

I hope all of you have a lovely week!

Next Wednesday I have a big Thanksgiving surprise for you!

Wordless Wednesday
turkey
cats
smackdown

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Digg 50000

2006-11-11T23:34:00.002-06:00

Squidoo just hit 50,000 lenses!

To celebrate, here's a challenge from us to you. If every Squidoo member built just one new lens, we could help Room to Read build a new school in Vietnam or Nepal. And then another. And another. And another. Because your lens could just keep earning royalties, for free, forever.

I’ve got two lenses in the program:

12 Days of Gift-mas

Favorite Hitchcock Films

So please digg the story and visit. Consider building a lens of your own...it’s free, easy and if you don’t, an angel loses its wings - LOL

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Oh What a Beautiful Morning

2006-11-08T09:39:00.000-06:00

Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a beautiful day,
I've got a wonderful feeling,
Everything's going my way.

Happy Wednesday, everyone! What a beuatiful day! S’posed to be mild and sunny here, hooray!

In other news, the American people have spoken. Woot! I believe in democracy. I believe we have the right to vote and should exercise it. If you didn’t vote, you don’t get to bitch - LOL!

And K-Fed goes in the same, “Trivial Pursuit - 2010 Edition” answer box as Star Jones - LOL!

I get a couple of days off from the insanity run! Double woot! LOL

Husband has taken a mini-vacation, so for a few days, I am spared from breaking the laws of Mazoorah, Kansas and physics, by trying to survive on three hours of sleep and travel 250 miles a day without incident (cars hate me).

I got to make a “Personal Wishlist” Squidoo lens, which was a blast! Stop by and make one for yourself - it is so much fun! I’ll be happy to lend you a hand!

Girls will be boys,

and boys will be girls.

It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world...(Oh dear, now I’ve got The Kinks stuck in my head. Not that unusual for my brain to have a few kinks though - LOL)

May you all have a fabulous Wednesday!

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VOTE

2006-11-07T04:08:00.000-06:00

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Grey’s Vibrator

2006-11-03T09:29:00.000-06:00

I am tarred. That’s hillbilly-speak for exhausted.

Been gettin’ up at 3 AM to do the insanity run. That means I usually fall asleep about 7 PM - LOL

But I stayed up last night to watch Grey’s Anatomy, because I love that show. ‘Cause it’s all true.

I reckon most folks that watch it think, “Heh...funny, but that could never happen in real life.”

Trust me, real life is crazier.

I used to be an x-ray tech. The parade of human stupidity that you see when you work in a hospital is beyond anything a fiction writer could come up with.

We’d often get called to the emergency room to do portable x-rays. You never knew what to expect. It might be some fool who accidentally shot himself with a nail gun. Or a kid that swallowed something or stuffed something up their nose.

But the strangest case I ever saw (and let me tell you, I saw some damn strange stuff) was the vibrator case.

Got the call to do an ER portable. On the table was a young man in his 20’s sweating and groaning, and holding his abdomen. I glanced at the doctor. He looked at me and raised one eyebrow. The secret signal that this was gonna be odd.

He requested an abdominal x-ray. It is necessary to feel for the patient’s illiac bone to be able to position properly.

So I placed my hand on the man’s abdomen, and it was quivering.

I looked at the doctor again, who could not look directly at me as he was attempting not to laugh. (Anti-laughter is one of the classes they make you take in medical school.)

I excused myself and stepped into the hallway, motioning with my eyes for the doctor to follow.

“So, what’s up with this guy?”

Doctor stifled laughter.

“Up...uh, yeah. Up his anus. Up into the colon. "

"His friend,” he said, pointing to a man pacing in the waiting room, "His friend says they were ‘playing’ with a vibrator, and it, uh, ‘got away’ from him.”

The vibrator had taken off like the bell at the Kentucky Derby had rung, and it was now attempting to round turn one.

It got stuck there.

It was still running.

I took my x-ray, then they took the guy into surgery.

I was called on to take portable films in there, (like I'd have missed this for the world - LOL) as it kept shifting positions.

Once they sliced him open, and removed it, the doctor laid it on one of those silver medical trays.

It was still running.

It danced quite a jig on that metal tray, and the surgeon grabbed it and fiddled with it a bit, then yelled, “How do you turn this damn thing off?”

"Don’t say anything, Marti," said the wise little voice in my head.

One of the nurses piped up, “The bottom of it should twist counterclockwise to turn it off.”

She never lived down having the answer, or her new nickname, “Buzzy”.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

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Hell-oween

2006-11-01T13:59:00.000-06:00

Isn’t it grand that the gods decided Marti didn’t have quite enough crap in her life, and delivered a special truckload of manure for Halloween? LOL

My blog vanished. Poof! Happy Halloween - it’s gone!

I don’t know why. I do not understand WordPress-speak. It was still here if you added “blog” to the end of the URL. Tricky bastard. I wrote to WordPress forum. I got an answer that was similar to the instructions for constructing a matter transport machine. If they were written in Chinese. By an Ethiopian.

But God bless her beautiful soul, Amy rode to my rescue. I wrote her an enormous rant, and she is to be congratulated first for not changing her e-mail address and not telling me - LOL

I bitched about not having a car, having to drive so far every day, the cold weather, the blog disappearing, and the general crappiness of life.

Her kind soul, warm sense of humor and genius mind saved me! She boosted my spirits and fixed my blog! What a woman!

So the blog is back! Thank you, Amy, you earned mucho karma points for putting up with me! Stop by and tell her her how swell she is! She’s got a beautiful new template too!

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Green Haired Kitty

2006-10-29T11:17:00.000-06:00

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Caped Kitty

2006-10-28T15:14:00.000-05:00

Black cat in spider web cape

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Witch Kitty

2006-10-27T10:46:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-26T10:52:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-25T02:54:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday

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

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

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Wordless Wednesday
Halloween
cats
costumes

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King Faced

2006-10-20T18:51:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-18T17:03:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-16T15:56:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-13T10:49:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-10T16:26:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-07T09:12:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-07T06:07:00.000-05:00

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?

2006-10-05T06:37:00.000-05:00

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

2006-10-04T04:20:00.000-05:00

(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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There Can Be Only One

2006-09-30T14:33:00.000-05:00

No, not the Highlander movie, which was way cool.

This...

This is w-a-y uncool.

There seems to be some unwritten law of the universe, that Middle Son and I can not BOTH have working vehicles.

He buys a car, mine goes in the shop.

His car is running, something breaks on mine.

So now...there can be only one.

(And it ain’t mine - LOL)

My car is, in technical terms - fuggdup.

It is bashed in on both sides. It has no outside rearview mirrors. It takes two people to roll up the passenger door window, because it jumps out of the track in a futile attempt to flee the horror of its surroundings. (For you youngens who have lived your entire life with electric automobile windows that rise with the push of a button, there are still some of us Neanderthals who drive such ancient vehicles that we have to MANUALLY raise and lower the glass.) One person has to be inside cranking the handle up, and a second individual must stand outside the car, pushing the kamikaze glass back into its track.

There is something in the front end that goes, “Skree-thump, skree-thump” when we turn a corner.

Its last oil change was roughly 7,000 miles ago. I’m not sure because the odometer quit working.

Then the transmission gave up the ghost. (Speaking of ghosts - I am excited beyond belief that tomorrow starts Halloween Month! *giggle*)

So here she sits, all sad and lonely. Daughter is back on the bus, which adds to her cheery disposition in the mornings (insert intense sarcasm - LOL)

Middle son is running all my errands for me. Wanna guess how thrilled he is about that? LOL

Bats may show up soon here. I have lots of time to look for Halloween graphics.

And me? I’m going bat-shit crazy without my car.

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GooBadU

2006-09-25T05:48:00.000-05:00

The Good the Bad and the Ugly

The Good
We had a pleasant anniversary. Stayed home, took it easy, exchanged gifts.

Do y’all watch The Simpsons? There was an episode where Homer forgot to get Marge a gift, and when she gave him HIS gift, he said, “Doh! I didn’t get you anything!” She smiled, handed him another box, and said, “Yes you did.” LOL

When husband saw that, he said, “That is a GREAT IDEA! Let’s do that from now on!”

So I did.

I got him a TITANIUM anniversary band, which is just unbelievably cool - LOL
It is made from aircraft titanium, and seein’ as how we eloped (sort of) to Reno during the Air Races, lo those 25 years ago, aircraft titanium was just too awesome for me to pass up. He loved it.

A smooth, contemporary band that is perfect for the modern man. Fashioned from aircraft quality titanium, this men's wedding/anniversary band features a two-part "spinning" feature in which the top part of the ring is cradled into the inside of the ring and freely "spins". A 0.01 carat diamond and gold electroplated edges give this tasteful ring the perfect final style touches. "Always & Forever" is inscribed inside the band in script.

He got me ( *snicker* ) a lovely 3 diamond anniversary necklace.

Sigh...of course the good times roll - right off the table, onto the floor, out the door and down the driveway, where they develop transmission problems.

The Bad
The boy’s car is still in the shop, awaiting the attorney’s intervention. Drunken Bitch who was involved in the accident, successfully filed a claim against Middle Son’s auto insurance, so it appears he is going to be liable for his own repairs unless by some miracle The Finest Lawyer In the World is working out of a strip mall in the Midwest LOL

Yesterday, girlfriend returned from out of town, and having gone an entire weekend without contact, the lad was desperate. Plus it’s her birthday. Much begging and promises of vast quantities of household chore performances lured me into a Devil’s bargain, and I let him drive in MY car to see her last night.

(You can see this comin’, can’t you?)

He returned home around 10:30 PM, and called out to his sleeping mother to join him in the living room.

“I hate to tell you this...” he began.

Expletives flew through the windmills of my mind like snowflakes in a blizzard. Seems that upon picking up girlfriend to go our 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. They returned to girlfriend’s home. Her father assessed the situation, and found the car to be low on transmission fluid. He had some on hand and added it, and the lad was able to limp it back to our house. I was a’feared to drive Daughter to school in it today.

Fortunately, misfortune had struck - LOL

The youngens were sick last week as strep throat is traveling around our community and naturally they shared their germs with us. So this morning, Husband is powerful ill and stayed home. Which is bad. But good. LOL

Since he didn’t go in to work, his car is here, so I took Daughter to school, Son to work and myself to the liquor store - LOL

Just kidding.

I did call the mechanic though, and I am going to attempt to take MY car up there soon, so it can commiserate with Son’s car, about how horribly we treat them.

Pray to the Gods of All Things Mechanical for me.

Thanks....

The Ugly
Middle Son’s car after encounter with Drunken Bitch.

We have got to be the unluckiest car owners in the world LOL

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25 years ago - WW 12

2006-09-20T06:19:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is our 25th Wedding Anniversary

September 21, 1981

PS - I know it looks like I’m giving everyone the finger - LOL
That is the INDEX finger that was amputated and reattached…it doesn’t bend very well!
Peace and joy to all of you!

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anniversary

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Blue Toe Season

2006-09-17T13:59:00.000-05:00

This is Chapter 11 from Queen Klutz. I share it with you now, 'cause I got nuttin LOL
Been busy working on e-books; cursing; chauffeuring the youngens to work, school and after school activities; cursing; mowing the grass; cursing; cleaning house; cursing; sorting out stuff to sell on eBay; cursing, and preparing for Autumn. Gawd I love Autumn, - maybe I’ll stop cursing long enough to take a moment and enjoy it LOL
Then I’ll go back to cursing LOL
So without further ado:

CHAPTER 11
Fall Brings Color Change
It’s blue toe season!

In the ocean of injuries I have inflicted on my body, (amputated-then-reattached-finger, multiple fractures, surgical insertion of pins, screws and metal plates, and more stitches than a quilt) a stubbed toe is barely a ripple.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Have you ever plowed little-toe-first into something solid? I mean really solid? Ouch!

It was my own fault, (of course) but I choose to blame the inkpen (which resented the implication and has since disappeared). I was trying to be organized, (something that almost always gets me in trouble). I was making a list. No more willy-nilly browsing for me, I was going to return home from this shopping trip with the essentials, instead of my usual moaning and groaning about forgotten items.

I circled the house intently, eyes darting about for articles that needed re-supply. Proudly I added items, until the inkpen, (apparently in cahoots with every other mechanical device in the universe, all of which hate me) slipped from my grasp. It leapt as though it had sprouted wings. Soaring across the room it flew, landing behind the large leather chair.
Undeterred, I tried to fish it out. I couldn’t reach it, so with a powerful pull, I dragged the chair out. I retrieved the inkpen and gave it a good talking-to. (No, I didn’t really, but I did call it an unprintable expletive.)

Then I committed the fatal (well, painful) error.

I didn’t slide the chair back. "I’ll remember to do it later," I thought.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Pen in hand, I continued taking notes. My list got longer, my memory got weaker, and the chair sat there, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, (well duh, that’s the topic of this piece) I forgot about the chair until our violent encounter. I was scurrying about, (never good) looking for my shoes, leaving me barefoot and vulnerable.

The sturdy chair hunkered quietly, anticipating the strike. "Grrrrrrr, she thinks she can leave me just sitting here alone, in the same place week after week, with these stinking dust bunnies gathering beneath me!"

(The dust bunnies all giggled in unison, then began calling their friends to come over, just to annoy the chair, as they are terrible little pranksters.)

The mighty chair grumbled, "Haven’t you ever heard of rearranging your furniture, woman?
I’m tired of looking at that stupid coffee table!"

The coffee table sniffed haughtily, (being imported) and muttered back with its elegant foreign accent, "Oh, ze chair eeze tired of ze view, eh? I am beautiful, you peasant!"

I’m assuming most of their conversation, of course. Furniture pieces, just like animals and mechanical devices, speak to each other in a frequency that is usually out of range of human hearing. Occasionally I catch snippets of it when I am fevered or just falling asleep, but let’s not spread that around. Saying you know what the refrigerator is thinking can get you in b-i-g trouble.

But I digress.

The chair growled in disgust at the table, but lurked patiently, knowing his reward was at hand. He braced himself for the impact, keenly aware that his brute strength was no match for my puny bones. Sure enough, the foot took a step and KA-POW!

I went reeling backwards across the room, as the chair smirked proudly, and the dust bunnies had fits of glee. The table looked on sympathetically. The carpet braced for impact, but I somehow remained semi-vertical, bent over, but not falling down. I hopped to the couch on the other foot, straining the metallic reinforcements, causing them to grumble about having to do double duty. "Hey! We’re only supposed to support half the load!"

I lifted my leg to examine the foot, and the toe was already beginning to swell.

The chair smirked, immensely satisfied with himself, until I furiously shoved it back in its place.
"Grrrrrrr, one of these days lady, one of these days…"

I was hobbled for several days, limping alternately between the stubbed-toe-foot and the complaining-metal-inset ankle. The toe turned a bright, vivid blue, but is now fading to black, green and gold.

And so, once again…the season of changing colors has arrived.

Happiness is good health
and a bad memory.
Albert Schweitzer

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Little Billy Explains Politics

2006-09-16T12:40:00.000-05:00

Lil’ Billy goes to his dad and asks, “What is politics?”

Dad says, “Well son, let me try to explain it this way. I’m the breadwinner of the family, so let’s call me Capitalism. Mommy is the administrator of the money, so we’ll call her the Government. We’re here to take care of your needs, so we’ll call you The People. The nanny, well, consider her The Working Class. Your baby brother, we’ll call him The Future. Now go think about this and see if it makes sense.”

So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying and runs to his room only to find that his diapers are very soiled. So the little boy goes to his parents’ room. Mom is sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny’s room. Finding the door locked, he looks through the peephole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning, the little boy says to his father, “Dad, I think I understand what politics is now.”

“Good son, tell me in your own words then what politics are.”

The little boy replies, “Well, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, the Government is sound asleep, the People are being ignored and the Future is in a pile of doody.”

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Pissed Off Mama

2006-09-15T09:39:00.000-05:00

You damned drunken bitch.

You have got some nerve. I can’t divulge specifics, because this may well go to court, and I’m not having my blog pulled in as evidence - LOL

I got a phone call at 11 PM. “Mom, I’ve been in a car accident.”

When my heart started beating again, I asked if he was OK. Yes. Was anyone hurt? No. Thank you, God.

Can’t go into any details, but I will say that the police report (which I just returned home with) shows that the other driver was arrested for driving while intoxicated.

It’s right there in the report.

Yet, this woman had the audacity to file a claim against Middle Son’s insurance. As I drove him in to McDonald’s this morning, his cell phone rang. I am driving him because his car is at the shop, courtesy of Drunken Bitch. It was his insurance company telling him that she had filed for damages. He was half-asleep and mumbled something. When he got off the phone I asked him who was calling and he told me. I was shocked!

“SHE is filing against YOU?!?”

We hadn’t even SEEN the police report. But you can bet your ass I hustled straight over to that police station after dropping the lad off. Got copy of file, took it to car and read about her failure to pass the sobriety test and how she was arrested.

Steam was coming out of my ears by the time I finished reading. I am still so furious, I want to break something LOL

Instead, I did what all bloggers do, and start typing.

Type, breathe, type, breathe.

Breathe...breathe.

I’m not sure what course of action we will take. It isn’t really my responsibility, it’s Son’s.

But I am one pissed off mutha....

In totally unrelated news, one week from today on September 21st is our 25th wedding anniversary. Cards, flowers and cash donations gladly accepted LOL

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2996 - A Tribute to John. F. Swaine

2006-09-08T04:49:00.000-05:00

Please don’t click away. That’s your first instinct, I know.

I understand. It’s uncomfortable, painful even, to read a tribute to someone who died on September 11, 2001. This is not a religious or political statement. It is a testament to our humanity, to show respect for the life of a fellow human being. A life that felt love...and laughter...and pain. Life is fleeting for all of us. Please...take a moment to honor this one.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

This post will remain alone on my home page until September 15, 2006

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Remember
John F. Swaine
World Trade Center.

From the NY TImes
John Swaine was the consummate Wall Street bond trader: "Aggressive and full of boundless energy," said his brother-in-law, Richard McGuire. He worked at Cantor Fitzgerald for about 10 years.
"He really loved his work," Mr. McGuire said. "He worked hard and played hard."
But he wanted to share the wealth. He helped his brother-in-law, John Reo, get a job at Cantor, trading bonds. They worked and died together on the 104th floor.
Mr. Swaine, 37, of Larchmont, N.Y., may have loved the Street but he did not fall for the trappings. He preferred to help his extended family, and to spend money on his wife of 13 years, Suzanne, and three daughters.
"He rarely spent any money on himself," Mr. McGuire said. "He provided his family with a beautiful home. But he was unassuming. He didn't have fancy cars or suits. He took the subway from the train every day. Everything he did, he did it for his family."

From Wall of Americans
John F. Swaine and John A. Reo were brothers-in-law and bond traders. Swaine, 36, of Larchmont, N.Y., was married to the sister of Reo, 28, a University of Notre Dame graduate. Both worked at Cantor Fitzgerald Securities on the 104th floor of the trade center. "We lost our son and our son-in-law together," Reo's mother, Judith, said softly. "We're in the process now of planning two funerals. It's unreal.” Swaine was the father of three girls--Sarah, 11; Emily, 9; and Hanna, 5. He had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald for more than 10 years, Judith Reo said. Her son, however, had started at the firm in May. John Reo recently had moved to Larchmont and was staying with his sister, Suzanne, and Swaine. Larchmont was especially hard hit by the attacks, Judith Reo said. "The whole community has so many losses that it's incredible," she said. "They're all young men, and a lot of the families are without dads today."

From his hometown newspaper
(September 11, 2004) A plaque, a stone, a list, a poem - and people gathered to remember those lost three years ago in the attack on the World Trade Center. That's how Larchmont and Mamaroneck officials, police, firefighters, scouts, families and friends commemorated the events on Saturday morning at Memorial Park in the Town of Mamaroneck.
The group assembled first for a brief ceremony at what's come to be known as "Girl Scout Rock" in the little garden near the train station parking lot, where scouts have placed a memorial plaque. The most solemn moment was a recitation by Town Supervisor Valerie O'Keeffe of names of local residents who died at the twin towers three years ago:

Helen Belilovsky
John Howard Boulton
Douglas G. Karpiloff
Frank J. Koestner
Maurice Patrick Kelly
Helen Crossin-Kittle  Patricia Helen Kittle
Edward H. Luckett II
John Thomas McErlean Jr.
Christopher Orgielewicz
John Reo
John F. Swaine

The assembly then reconvened across the street for the unveiling of a memorial stone, under a commemorative tree planted last year by FIND (Friends in Need), the Larchmont-based organization formed to help the local families impacted by the disaster.
"September 11, 2001 it's not just a date, it's a part of us, just as our loved ones are," Bob Meglio, one of the founders of FIND, told the gathering. Other speakers echoed his words. "We remember, we bear witness across Judaism, across Christianity, across even Islam and Hinduism, we remember. so those who have fallen are not lost," said Reverend Bill Crawford of Larchmont Avenue Church. And how do we remember? We mark with a stone, and say a prayer that has no mention of death, but only an appreciation for life, said Rabbi Jeffrey Sirkman of Larchmont Temple explaining the Jewish custom. And so, Carolyn Koestner and Eugene Belilovsky, who each lost a parent on 9/11, helped unveil the stone marker under the dogwood tree that has taken root since last year at edge of the field.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Calling All Angels
by Jane Siberry
Santa Maria, Santa Teresa, Santa Anna, Santa Susannah
Santa Cecilia, Santa Copelia, Santa Dominica, Mary Angelica
Frater Achad, Frater Pietro, Julianus, Petronella
Santa, Santos, Miroslaw, Vladimir
and all the rest

A man is placed upon the steps, a baby cries
And high above the church bells start to ring
And as the heaviness the body
Oh the heaviness settles in
Somewhere you can hear a mother sing

Then it's one foot then the other
As you step out onto the road
How much weight? How much weight?
Then it's how long? And how far?
And how many times before it's too late?

Calling all angels
Calling all angels
Walk me through this one
Don't leave me alone
Calling all angels
Calling all angels
We're cryin' and we're hurtin'
And we're not sure why...

And every day you gaze upon the sunset
With such love and intensity
Why it's...it's almost as if
If you could only crack the code
Then you'd finally understand what this all means
But if you could...do you think you would
Trade it in
All the pain and suffering?
Ah, but then you'd miss
The beauty of the light upon this earth
And the sweetness of the leaving

Calling all angels
Calling all angels
Walk me through this one
Don't leave me alone

Callin’ all angels
Callin' all angels
We're tryin'
We're hopin
We're hurtin'
We're lovin'
We're cryin'
We're callin'
'Cause we're not sure how this goes

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School Trolls

2006-09-07T08:59:00.000-05:00

Dear Daughter slugged him. I got the dreaded phone call - please come to the office. Groan.

They sat in there, the miscreant ne’er do well, and Dear Defiant Daughter.

Nothing but a metal office chair and a fog of fury separated them. I sighed. I was expecting this (unfortunately). He’s been tormenting her for years. She got her period. She snapped. No court in the land would convict her LOL

We adjourned to the counselor’s office. Explanations were in order. The lad shrugged and claimed innocence and wonderment at being attacked. Daughter rolled her eyes so severely, I feared they would pop out and spin across the floor.

Fool. His puny intellect was unprepared for the onslaught. Daughter launched a tirade worthy of the finest orators in the land. Listing, step by step, year by year, report by report, the pain and suffering inflicted upon her tender soul by Moron Boy, and her requests to the administrators for castigation (not castration, we’re not barbarians LOL)

I was so proud.

Of course I had to wear my Stern Mommy face, because we do not resolve our differences with physical violence. It required the strength of Hercules to remain straight-faced when they asked why she hit him. “Because nothing else got anyone’s attention.”

So they’re both in trouble. Didn’t really seem fair to me, but I’m biased. If some jackass tormented me for years, sticking gum in my hair, calling me names, tripping me in the hallway and incessantly tapping my shoulder from the riser above me in choir, only to be released from any punishment when the incidents were reported, I’d have snapped too.

But don’t tell Dear Daughter. I gotta be Mean Mommy even when I hate it.

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back to school

Labor of Love

2006-09-01T10:49:00.000-05:00

Here it is, Labor day weekend, and me without my lights up yet LOL

School has started, which means it’s time to bring out the finest whines:

Riesling - “No! I don’t want to get up yet, five more minutes!”

Bordeaux - “This homework is dull, I’m never going to need to know this stuff.”

Champagne - “I can’t go to school, My foot hurts. The pain is awful, I can’t walk.”

I think she needs a hobby. Maybe cat juggling.

That’s it...I got nothin’ else funny, sorry. Just wanted to wish all of you a glorious Labor Day weekend! If you haven’t purchased a copy of my new book, please do! On sale through Labor Day, regularly $14.95, this weekend only $12.95. Don’t make me come after you. *snicker*

EDIT:
Duh on me. The first picture I had up was indeed dogs. Never post drunk, Marti...or at 4 AM...or drunk at 4 AM *snicker*
Here it is:

UPDATE: Sonofabitch...I am trying to make it through the ol' blogroll today to wish everyone well. Unfortunately, Blogger is having "issues" again. I switched my Blogger blog (where I co-post these messages) to the new "Beta" version. Now when I try to comment at other Blogger blogs, it tells me, in what my mind's voice reads as a snotty French accent, that, "No-eww! Yew meh not do zat! If ze bloggar eeze not using ze new beta, we spit on both of you!"

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WW 11 - Secret

2006-08-30T04:20:00.000-05:00

Shhhhh...........
I’ve got a secret.......

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

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Mensa Invitational

2006-08-25T06:56:00.001-05:00

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners:

1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit! and the person who doesn't get it.

8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate's disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

12.. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n.! ): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole

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Wordless Wednesday 10

2006-08-23T05:31:00.000-05:00

This is Marti

This is Marti on Glucosamine

This is Miss Cellania’s computer

This is Miss Cellania’s computer on explosives*

I know just how it feels. I am recovering though. The computer, I fear, will not.

*Some good ole boys in Kentucky celebrated Independence Day by launching computers with explosives and shooting them. She’s got video proof of what they did to her iMac. Go by and check it out! It’s her first exclusive video!

Best wishes to all for a Wonderful Wordless Wednesday!

- - -

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

For information on joining the fun, and the getting the blogroll code, please go here.

Wordless Wednesday
Miss Cellania
>Blow up computer

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SOB

2006-08-20T10:53:00.000-05:00

I am proud to announce I am an S.O.B.!

Liz Strauss of Successful Blog was kind enough to bestow the honor of being a Successful Outstanding Blogger upon me, and do an interview with me to help promote my new book. Stop over and pay her a visit!

Be sure to take your coins for the bridge troll...LOL

Thank you so much darlin'!

I got REALLY sick last night, so I'm just getting up and about. It was the craziest thing...

Since I’ve broken so many of my bones, it seemed like a good idea to be taking a supplement. When will I learn that “good ideas” are not for me? LOL

I got a chewable version of Glucosamine Chondroitin and ate one. In less than an hour I started feeling sick. My throat felt tight and my right jaw started swelling up. By two hours later, the whole right side of my face was inflamed and throbbing. My right eye was watering like it was being given a private showing of Terms of Endearment.

I took some aspirin - didn't help. I took some Aleve - didn't help. My right eye swelled nearly shut. My cheek was invading my earlobe's personal space.

The pain intensified. THROB! THROB!

I was thinking “S.O.B.” but not in reference to darlin’ here

I began drinking gallons of water while looking up glucosamine adverse reactions on the internet (with my one good eye). It seems that in rare cases, it can cause the symptoms I had. That’s usually in people who have allergic reactions to shellfish, which I’ve never had, but we are talking about ME here LOL

If there is anyone on the planet who is going to develop a sudden freakish symptom, it will be yours truly. I kept drinking water to flush it out of my system, and finally found some old Vicaden and took one of them. That let me get some sleep (except for waking up ever two hours to pee LOL)

Still tender this morning.
Continuing to drink water (and pee - LOL) Ah oh, gotta go (literally)...........

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successful blog
Queen Klutz

Runnin’, Runnin’

2006-08-17T08:12:00.000-05:00

Pzzzew...

What was that? Something just went whizzing by at just under the speed of light.

Oh, that was Marti. School starts today.

Just got the girl-child onto the bus. You know, the one the school newsletter said would leave the bus barn in ten minutes. C’mon, I didn’t get this old bein’ stoopid. LOL I’ve been puttin’ youngens on that bus for twenty years.

ME: “Come on girl! We have to drive down to the end of the driveway.”

GIRL: {{Still performing ablutions in the bathroom}} “It’s not time yet!”

ME: “Yes it is! Look at the clock!” (Note: This is the clock I set ahead four minutes, in preparation for this moment *snicker*. Clock manipulation is one of the many artifices in the prepared mother’s bag of tricks.)

GIRL: “Ack!”

ME: {{must not chuckle must not chuckle}}

GIRL: {{Dashing towards door}} “So let’s GO!”

Go we did. Slowly at first, until we reach the crest where we can see the street. The street where a big yellow rooftop lurks.

GIRL: “Ack! Go faster!”

We are already going 25 miles an hour down the gravel roadbed. If I speed up we will hit that last bump near the end of the driveway and launch OVER the bus, a la Dukes of Hazzard. Since I’m not wearing my cut-off short-shorts and a bandana printed shirt tied jauntily under my breasts, I decline. We still managed to get her safely up the rubber-cleated steps. The driver grins and waves to me. A new year begins.

I return to the house to learn that...ACK! (A good “Ack“ LOL) I have been profiled on Third Age Blog by BlogHer featured speaker, Yvonne Divita!

Please swing over there and read the interview! Right now I have to go reset all of the clocks, the boy has to get up for work before long....LOL!

Hope all of you have a wonderful day! Thanks for stopping by!

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Left Handed Link Love

2006-08-13T17:53:00.000-05:00

I’m proud to be a southpaw! Today, August 13 is National Left Handers Day!

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THIS JUST IN!
(Fanning myself like Scarlet O'Hara all a-twitter here LOL)
I submitted a guest article to Mommybloggers, and they just let me know they have used it today! There are wonderful stories there - you don't have to be a mom to enjoy a visit.
As they state:
~The goal of our site, Mommybloggers, is to expose the diversity of the writers who commonly fall under the label "mommyblogger". This site is set up to be an inclusive experience for our readers, both for parents and non-parents alike. We will feature women who will share how their experiences in motherhood effect the many various aspects of her life in humorous, supportive and informative ways. Mommybloggers are making a real difference in this world. Mommybloggers.com wants to introduce you, our readers, to these amazing women.~
I am so grateful to them for using my article. Please stop by for a visit! Thanks!

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Hoss is in love!

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The personal computer is 25 years old!

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Do you Squidoo ?

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Miss Cellania will have you rolling on the floor, holding your sides and spewing coffee all over your monitor with all of her hilarious links! She’s a sweetheart - please stop by!
I will be joining Miss C, Karen and many other bloggers in a month, when we mark the five-year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. D. Challener Roe is working hard to get 2,996 bloggers involved in a non-partisan tribute to the victims of 9/11. The idea is for each blogger to post a tribute to one victim on September 11, 2006. Although mine is a humor blog, I will be posting a serious tribute to:
John F. Swaine, age 36.
Place killed: World Trade Center.
Resident of Larchmont, N.Y. (USA).

I Remember
John F. Swaine
World Trade Center.

I am the 1724th blogger to sign up for the 2,996 Tribute Project.

Anyone who wishes may use this candle image with my blessing.

Please consider blogging a tribute. There has been amazing response, but it's not all that are needed. Roe is keeping track and posting updates at the project blog, 2996. Bloggers can go there to sign up and be assigned a person to write about, or you can request a particular individual if you want. Thank you so much!

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Amy, (who is muttering, “Gee thanks a lot! How am I supposed to follow something like the tribute?”) is a "Can't miss" blog.

I KNOW you can do it sugar! Anyone who can tell a story about sucking a hamster...well y’all will just have to go see. LOL!

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Need more laughs? Go read:
USA Deep South
Southern Humorists
The Dixie Dispatch
The A.B.B.
(You might even run across me at some of these places! LOL)

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School starts here Thursday, so I won’t be back until then, providing the men with the straightjacket don’t cart me off before then - LOL Sorry for not visiting much, I miss y’all...just been awful busy being a little book trollop - LOL!

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I Dream of Beavie?

2006-08-11T17:10:00.000-05:00

Have you seen these commercials for Rozerem, the new sleep aid pill?

They feature an insomniac man who enters his kitchen to find a chess set on the table, Abraham Lincoln, a talking beaver and a strange figure that is either a deep sea diver or space alien with its back to us, over near the stove.

There is talk about how insomnia plagues so many people and how the man isn’t dreaming, thus not visiting Abe and the beaver (who is eating from a plate using a fork).

I’m assuming the beaver is a metaphor for sex, but maybe that’s just me. LOL

But frankly, if you’re dreaming about Abraham Lincoln, talking mammals who use cutlery and unknown creatures cooking in your kitchen, all wanting to capture your queen, I think you’ve got bigger problems than a sleeping pill is gonna fix.

Have a great weekend, y’all!

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Wordless Wednesday 9

2006-08-09T05:12:00.000-05:00

Queen Klutz - The Misadventures of a Very Clumsy Woman

Happy Wordless Wednesday from the book hooker - LOL

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

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Hard out here for a pimp

2006-08-08T10:24:00.000-05:00

Pimpin’ my goodies again.

Sigh. It’s a dirty job but somebody has to do it (That would be me LOL)

Found a fabulous bordello to hang my shingle at, where I can traffic all my wares. It’s called Squidoo. They say:
A LITTLE ABOUT SQUIDOO:
We have built a new online platform and community that makes it easy for anyone to build a single page--called a lens--on a topic, idea, product or cause he is passionate about. These lenses in turn help finders get unique, human perspectives instead of computer-selected and often irrelevant search results. Not only can Lensmasters spread their ideas, get recognized for their knowledge, and send more traffic to their Web sites and blogs—they could also earn royalties.
Squidoo's goal as a platform is to bring the power of recommendation to search. Squidoo's goal as a co-op is to pay as much money as we can to our lensmasters and to charity. And Squidoo's goal as a community is to have fun along the way, and meet new ideas and the people behind them.

Squidoo was started by the Original Squid, Seth Godin. Nearly ten years ago, Seth founded Yoyodyne, which originated the idea of permission marketing online. After Yoyodyne was acquired by Yahoo, he served as VP Direct Marketing for Yahoo for about a year. In 2000, Godin focused full-time on his career as an acclaimed public speaker, an author and a blogger. Seven of Seth's books have been bestsellers somewhere around the world, and his blog has been picked as the best business blog by several leading publications. Seth's head is the most recognizable author icon in business. Yes, his head.

Anyway, back to ME LOL
My Squidoo has links to my newly published book of humor essays, (which is crying out, "Please buy me, I'm so lonely") my funny sayings T-shirts at Cafe Press, some Amazon links, links to a few very funny bloggers, jokes and a guest book for feedback.

It’s pretty cool to be able to put everything together in one place! Stop by! *pleasepleaseplease* LOL

Best wishes to all of you for a wonderful day!

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Cruel School

2006-08-05T09:30:00.000-05:00

Well, it’s almost that time again. Back to cruel...err, school.

Do you look back fondly on high school? Any of you who do, please line up over here. Yes right there on that square.

YOINK! {{ Followed by shocked look and hair flying over heads, as trapdoor flops open dropping them into pit below }}

High school is a horrible but necessary training ground for the rest of life in this cruel, cruel world.

I realize now, and have tried to instill in my children, the fact that every one of the greasy little pigs believes they are hideously ugly - more disgusting than a bowl full of intestines. Yes, even the cheerleaders feel this way. That is why they are especially cruel. It’s a defense mechanism.

For most of us (peeks in on pit dwellers who are pacing and reciting their valedictorian speeches to calm themselves) high school was a nightmare. Now (oh joy) I get to relive the nightmare (for the third time) through dear Daughter.

She will be a Junior this year. She feels stupid and ugly. I tell her she is smart and beautiful. She says that I have to say that because I’m her mother. Oh yeah, I forgot - that was in the handbook.

We went back-to-school shopping yesterday. This weekend is the “sales tax holiday” here in Mazoorah. Damn, and I forgot to put up decorations. What a crock. The cities could opt out, so the “savings” (she said sarcastically) was the state tax, which is about 4%. So on the $40 we spent on the limited list of products that are included, we saved... WOW! A dollar and sixty cents! Let’s start a college fund for you honey!

There’s the joy of trying on clothes in the dressing room that is too small and badly lit. Finding that perfect first-day outfit for everyone else to gossip about is so difficult. Especially when she’s decided she wants only black apparel, following in Goth Boy Brother’s combat bootsteps.

Plus we have the hair issue. The hair-that-was-dyed-black-over-the-summer. The hair she wants to darken again, much like the throbbing headache that wants to do to my doorstep.

This followed the thrill of attempting to register and adjust schedule for the upcoming school year. The district sent out newsletters (apparently to everyone on the planet) to show up at the high school to register. They all did. Packed like sausages into the Jimmy Dean Gymnasium.

Please bring proof that you exist.

No, the newsletter that came addressed to you isn’t enough proof. You could be a terrorist who went around stealing those out of mailboxes.

The fact that the student has lived in this district since birth doesn’t matter. Or that she has attended schools in this district all her life. Or that the mother has sent three students through these schools and knows every teacher and administrator by name (and evil nickname).

Having served as a room mother, office assistant, field trip manager, chaperone, PTA member, Grad Night coordinator and Secret Santa is not enough. A terrorist might have gotten plastic surgery to look like you. (This is followed by me rolling on the floor with laughter, and Daughter acting like she doesn't know me).

You want to do what? Oh no, we can’t change any of the classes here. The office isn’t open. You’ll have to call and make an appointment for that. Ignore the three hours you spent waiting in line and wrestle your way through the sweating hoard to exit. Step aside. NEXT!

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back to school
tax holiday

WW 8 - The Beat Goes On

2006-08-02T12:00:00.000-05:00

(This Wednesday is not wordless, as tragedy has once again stuck Our Lady of Lucklessness)

Drums keep poundin’ nails into my brain
La de da de de, la de da de da.
(Those unfamiliar with the old Sonny and Cher song I just parodied are scratching their nail-less heads)

Yes friends, 1967 was the Summer of Love.

2006 has been the Summer of Shove. As in, shove a spike into my eye socket. It would be a relief. LOL

Who knew that automotive epilepsy was hereditary? I have owned some of the all-time shakiest vehicles in car manufacturing history. This passage is from my soon-to-be-released book, “Queen Klutz”.

I don’t just get flat tires; I have wheels fall off. Mufflers don’t just become noisy, they become disengaged.

My children understand the geography of our area not by landmarks, but by towing incidents.

“Oh, that’s where the transmission dropped out of the blue van.”

“You know sis, over there where the bumper fell off.”

She responds, “Which car?”

So I suppose it should come as no surprise that this trait has passed on to the boy. The boy who purchased the 4-wheel sweat lodge that had neither air conditioning nor operable windows. The one with the battery manufactured by Thomas Edison, with battery cables made from braided goat hair and chewing gum foil.

The boy who drove me home (in said sweat lodge) after I left my car at the mechanics with (y’all were right) a broken alternator.

The boy who THEN showed up at 2 AM in our bedroom saying he’d had a flat tire on the freeway. He has no jack. Course he doesn’t need a jack, he has no spare.

Husband and I arose wearily. Pulled a can of fix-a-flat from the emergency supply closet (which is larger than the living room - think he hasn’t learned anything from living with the queen of the car killers?) and off they went.

Husband instructs boy on how to squirt goo in. By the light of the silvery moon, they watch goo spew out other side. Sigh. Husband tells boy to limp vehicle to nearest tire dealer. Follows weeble-wobble boy at three miles per hour. Brings boy home.

I call tire dealer at start of business day. Please replace tire. Which tire? The flat one. Yes the one that looks like it has rabies, foaming at the south (side) from spewing fix-a-flat out its multiple malocclusions. What do you mean you don’t have a tire that size? You are a tire DEALER, for cryin’ out loud! I have to go WHERE to get one? Can’t you have it delivered? You don’t do that...swell. Hell. I am in hell. Again. I have a frequent dyer pass.

I drove the boy to work and took off for Kazackistan, the only place left on the planet that has a tire to fit the boy’s car. It is 185 degrees outside. There is road construction. I feel sorry for the workers, holding a warning sign in one hand and a gallon jug of water to their lips with the other. Until I hit a giant pothole they have yet to repair, which jarred a wire loose somewhere, and the car died. Had car towed to mechanic. Sat in smelly waiting room, while the just-installed alternator was given life again. Call tire store. Tell them it will be next day. Go pick boy up. Go home to die. Again.

The Wordless Wednesday Blogroll

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Today is My Birthday!

2006-07-29T08:51:00.000-05:00

Yup. Born in 1953, so I’m 53 years old today, July 29.

53 - 53, shouldn’t that be some kind of lucky thing or somethin’? LOL (Been more like a jinx lately - LOL!)

I don’t feel old in my head LOL

If you’d like to do something nice for me *snicker* you can go take a peek at the quotation and funny sayings T-shirts I designed.

Over the years, I have collected thousands of quotes and such, just ‘cause I liked them. A clever turn of a phrase can always cheer me up. Then Husband started requesting tag lines for his work memos, and I collected and wrote even more.

I was encouraged by blog-buddy Amy who has some very cute designs at her Cafe’ Press Shop to give it a try. So I got a trial set-up there, to see if I could rake any dollars my way LOL

Also have a fabulous writer friend, Leeuna, from Southern Humorists, who is in a writing contest.
Here is her lovely plea: (She’s so sweet!)
If y'all get time, please go here Blog Carnival and vote for your favorite article. Mine is titled The Crack in the Southern Belle, but vote the way you see it. If you like one of the others better, please vote for it instead. This must be honest. The winner gets $40.00, which I have promised to Marti's favorite IRS auditor. :-)

Your help is appreciated.

Leeuna
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I am so grateful for all of the wonderful internet friends and blog buddies I have made - God bless you all!

I hope all of you have a spectacular weekend! Now I’m gonna go eat cake LOL!

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Mooning

2006-07-27T10:30:00.000-05:00

I am absolutely swamped with stuff here, no time to write, so I am posting this cute little story for you. Hope everyone has a wonderful day!

- - -

On July 20, 1969, the first man walked on the moon.

When Apollo Mission Astronaut Neil Armstrong made those first footprints, he not only gave his famous, "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," statement but followed it by several remarks, usual com traffic between him, the other astronauts and Mission Control.

Just before he re-entered the lander, he made the enigmatic remark, "Good luck Mr. Gorsky."

Many people at NASA thought it was a remark concerning some rival Soviet Cosmonaut. However, upon checking, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs.

Over the years, many people questioned Armstrong as to what the "Good luck Mr. Gorsky" statement meant, but Armstrong always just smiled.

On July 5, 1995 in Tampa, Florida, while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to Armstrong. This time he finally responded. Mr. Gorsky had finally died and so Neil Armstrong felt he could answer the question.

Armstrong explained, “When I was a kid, I was playing baseball with a friend in the backyard. My friend hit a fly ball that landed in the front of his neighbor's bedroom windows. My neighbors were Mr. & Mrs. Gorsky. As I leaned down to pick up the ball, I heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky, "Oral sex! You want oral sex?! You'll get oral sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!"

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And the winner is...

2006-07-24T08:46:00.000-05:00

Ted Demopoulos is a speaker, author, and consultant who is passionate about technology, business, and especially their intersection. (Stole that from his website - LOL)

He had a contest to win a coy of the book he co-authored, “Blogging for Business”.

I wrote an entry and WON! Here it is, along with the comments I left.

What to Blog On? Concise Advice
From Marti Lawrence, Enter The Laughter, winner of a "Blogging for Business" book.
Marti, since you're a humor writer, I'll add I signed the book "to Marti" so you can't easily sell it on eBay :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Might seem odd to be getting an entry from a humor writer, but I have a secret (well not-so-secret now, huh?) interest in marketing and a love of blogging.
I had professional photographs taken recently, and the photographer told me she read my blog.
"You should write one!" I said enthusiastically.
"Oh, I couldn't. What would I write about?"
"Just tell some of these great stories you told me! Talk about those unique poses and image compositions that you came up with - they're amazing!"
When I got home, I started thinking about what other advice I would give her. It could easily apply to any small businessperson thinking about starting a blog as part of their business plan.
Don't make every post, "buy something from me." Start out with who you are, and why you enjoy what you're doing. THAT is the key, is to make what you do sound interesting and exciting for you. Folks aren't going to want to do business with a dour old duck! You have to exhibit your enthusiasm for your business. Your excitement will excite your customers.
Speak (through your writing) casually. This isn't a textbook; it's a conversation. You aren't trying to force someone to buy something from you; you are explaining the benefits of your knowledge and enthusiasm.
Tell folks about your day...how you helped someone, made them smile, improved their life. You don't think you improve people's lives with your business? You should! No matter what product or service you are dealing with, you have to believe in it! Otherwise, people are going to feel hustled. After all, you chose to get into this business, right? (Anyone who had a gun held to their head to pursue their vocation can stop reading.) Since you selected this profession, you must have thought it would be interesting and fulfilling for both you and your customers/clients. Use that passion! Let folks get to know you through your blog, and they'll want to do business with you.

My comments:
Marti accepts the tiara and roses with tears running down her cheeks, as she graciously waves to the applauding crowd. “Oh, thank you, thank you! I am thrilled, and will do my best to uphold the high standards of this award, and will work to bring an end to world hunger and businesses that don’t blog. Thank you again!” More tears, more applause...

HeyTed, an "autographed by the author" copy should bring in some big bucks at E-Bay!

Just kidding of course (that's what I do LOL)

Thank for selecting my entry. I had fun writing it. Best wishes to you and your readers!

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