Monday, December 17, 2007
You Tube video-- short-- with cowboys herding cats can be found at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pk7yqlTMvp8
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
A hunter went into the woods to hunt bears. He saw one in the distance. When he went to aim his gun, the bear was gone and he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and it was the bear. The bear asked "Were you going to shoot me?" to which the man replied "Yes, yes I was". The bear said to the man" I will give you two choices. I can either maul you and kill you right here, or you let me have anal sex with you." The hunter, not wishing to be mauled, consented to the anal sex. After the bear was finished, the man went home, vowing to kill the bear.
About a week later, the man returned to the area looking for the bear. just as before, he saw the bear, but when he aimed his gun, the bear was gone, and he felt a familiar tap on his shoulder. It was the bear. The bear told him" I'll give you the same two options." The man, again not wanting to be killed, consented to anal sex again. As the man crawled home, he again vowed to kill the bear.
Another week passed, and the man returned to the area to kill the bear. Again, he saw the bear, and again he raised his gun, and again, the bear was gone. He cringed as he felt that all familiar tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw the bear. The bear looked at the man and said, "You're not in this for the huntin', are you?"
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
I still have my vision problems, the mild expressive aphasia, and the occasional vertigo. As far as medical experts say, traumatic brain injury is permanent. We improve over time at some stuff, especially if we keep working at it but the basic brain injury itself is there and will be there. Folks say that "the brain can regenerate isn't that amazing?" sort of thing until I am sick of hearing it. Again, I will tell yas that yes, some neurons can regenerate however they do not always reconnect to the correct halves [causing cognitive slowdowns] or at all to anything [causing a central nervous system tremor which yes I do have].
I will never be who I was. I won't lie for the sake of the comfort of others and claim that who I am is a new improved model because it isn't. I don't believe that "all things happen for a reason" or that "I'm right where some god wants me to be" or that "there are no true coincidences." What I think is that life is sacred-- neither fair nor unfair-- and that it is the finite part of our selves that requires and maybe even demands meaning, thus we create it. I don't particularly feel bound by any compulsion to have reasons and lessons for learning. I think that life is far beyond our petty little explanations. Most other folks I know find comfort in believing that there is some sort of grand plan. That stuff doesn't help me though so I dumped it.
Some things have improved. My hearing-- which was supersonic before my accident and right on the borderline of needing a hearing aid or two afterwards-- has re-established itself into the supersonic category as per the last audiology test this summer. The addition of a c-pap machine after two sleep studies and a diagnosis of sleep apnea has really helped me to have a life [although it takes me much longer than average to get into REM sleep, at least I am dreaming again at night]. I keep working on my aphasia and now most folks don't notice it. I got involved with an incredimail creators' group [thanks Jeremy Crow] and that has been of immense help to me in restoring motivation.
If the accident didn't happen, we would have been better off financially and I would not have had my career viciously kicked out from under me. If suffering builds character and strength, I certainly could have done with a bit less of both of those things. In a perfect world, folks who smoke pot would be picked up by the magic yellow submarine bus and driven anywheres they had to go. [The driver who ran my car into a house was high on marijuana]. In a perfect world, we wouldn't need lawyers to protect us from our places of employment after we get hurt, little kids wouldn't be abused or die of starvation and diseases and all stuff like that. But it is not a perfect world. So I just have to do the best I can [most days] with what I got. As Nathaniel Branden would say, "It is what it is."
By this time next year, I hope that my novel will be written and submitted. I also hope to be working at least part-time at a job that I can tolerate. Still be married and in love with my husband and he with me. Saving money for my next cross-country trip. [I want to go every year or every two years for the rest of my life]. And still enjoying my animals, the woods, and life.
I am writing a novel, as I've said before and thus am behind once again in visiting all of your blogs and commenting. Sorry for that. I will get to visiting all of yas to leave comments over the next few weeks or so.
And anyone who has a dog, if you haven't watched The Dog Whisperer, you ought to give it a whirl. He has most excellent ideas about dog psychology and communication. My current dog who is really angelic has become even more perfect since I started doing some of the things he suggests.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A little boy comes home from school and tells his father, "I got an F in math today."
His father replies, "What happened?"
The boy says, "Well, my teacher asked me, 'What's 3 times 2', and I said '6.'"
The father replies, "Well, that's correct."
The boy says, "I know. Then she asked me, 'What's 2 times 3.'"
The father then replies, "Well, what the f*ck is the difference?"The boy says, " That's exactly what I said Dad!"
* * *
A young boy went up to his father and asked him, "Dad, what is the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?"
The father thought for a moment, then answered, "Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then ask your sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and then ask your brother if he'd sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Come back and tell me what you learn from that."
So the boy went to his mother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
The mother replied,"Of course I would! We could really use that money to fix up the house and send you kids to a great University!"
The boy then went to his sister and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
The girl replied, "Oh my God! I LOVE Brad Pitt! I would sleep with him in a heartbeat, are you nuts?!"
The boy then went to his brother and asked, "Would you sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars?"
"Of course," the brother replied. "Do you know how much a million bucks would buy?"
The boy pondered the answers for a few days and then went back to his dad.
His father asked him, "Did you find out the difference between potentially and realistically?""Yes," the boy replied, "Potentially, you and I are sitting on three million dollars, but realistically, we're living with two hookers and a homo."
* * *
Two women friends had gone for a girl's night out. Both were very faithful and loving wives, but they had gotten over-enthusiastic on the Bacardi Breezers.
Incredibly drunk and walking home they needed to pee, so they stopped in the cemetery.
One of them had nothing to wipe with so she thought she would take off her panties and use them.
Her friend however was wearing a rather expensive pair of panties and did not want to ruin them.
She was lucky enough to squat down next to a grave that had a wreath with a ribbon on it, so she proceeded to wipe with that.
After the women did their business, they proceeded to go home.
The next day one of the women's husbands was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed hung over, so he phoned the other husband and said, "These ladies' nights out have got to stop! I'm starting to suspect the worst. My wife came home with no panties!"
"That's nothing," said the other husband, "Mine came back with a card stuck to her ass that said, "From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you!"
Saturday, October 13, 2007
1. When it appears that you have killed the monster, NEVER check to see if it's really dead.
2. Never read a book of demon summoning aloud, even as a joke.
3. Do not search the basement, especially if the power has gone out.
4. 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.
5. When you have the benefit of numbers, NEVER pair off and go alone.
6. As a general rule, don't solve puzzles that open portals to Hell.
7. Never stand in, on, or above a grave, tomb, or crypt. This would apply to any other house of the dead as well.
8. If you're searching for something which caused a loud noise and find out that it's just the cat, GET THE HELL OUT!
9. If appliances start operating by themselves, do not check for short circuits; just get out.
10. Do not take ANYTHING from the dead.
11. If you find a town which looks deserted, there's probably a good reason for it. Don't stop and look around.
12. Don't fool with recombinant DNA technology unless you're sure you know what you're doing.
13. If you're running from the monster, expect to trip or fall down at east twice, more if you are female. Also note that, despite the fact that you are running and the monster is merely shambling along, it's still moving fast enough to catch up with you.
14. 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.
15. Stay away from certain geographical locations, some of which are listed here: Amityville, Elm Street, Transylvania, Nilbog (you're in trouble if you recognize this one), anywhere in Texas where chainsaws are sold, the Bermuda Triangle, or any small town in Maine.
16. If your car runs out of gas at night on a lonely road, do not go to he nearby deserted-looking house to phone for help. If you think that it is strange you ran out of gas because you thought you had most of a tank, hoot yourself instead. You are going to die anyway, and most likely be eaten.
17. Beware of strangers bearing tools. For example: chainsaws, staple guns, hedge trimmers, electric carving knives, combines, lawn mowers, butane torches, soldering irons, band saws, or any devices made from deceased companions.
18. 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.
19. Dress appropriately. When investigating a noise downstairs in an old house, women should not wear a flimsy negligee. And carry a flashlight, not a candle.
20. Do not mention the names of demons around open flames, as these can flare suddenly. Be especially careful of fireplaces in this regard.
21. Do not go looking for witches in the Maryland countryside.
HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
10. Any house that seems to be imploding into a hole
in the ground.
9. Any house made of food.
8. Any house that has ornamental lawn hyenas.
7. Any house whose only entrance goes to the basement.
6. Any house where high-tension power lines seem to
5. Any house that keeps growling, "Get out!"
4. Any house where the furniture seems to be walking
around the living room.
3. Any house that looks like a giant, pulsating orb
floating 3 feet above the ground.
2. Any house with a yard full of statues of people in
odd running poses.
1. Any house that wasn't there a couple of seconds ago.
a big shout-out to all the jokesters and tricksters from sapphoqnfriends
Recently, the Society For Evil Overlords has noticed a regrettable decline
Three golfers were walking down the fairway one Saturday morning. Noticing how nice a day it was, one of them shook his head and said, "It is getting harder and harder to get away from home for a weekend game of golf. I had to promise my wife I would paint the bathroom when I get back".
The second golfer agreed. "Tell me about it! I had to promise my wife a trip to Paris to get out here today!"
The third golfer had said nothing by the time they reached the green. "Come on", said his friends, "What did you have to do?""It was very simple" said the third golfer. "I tapped my wife on the shoulder this morning at 6am and said 'What's it going to be -- golf or sex?' She turned further over to her side of the bed and said: 'Take plenty of sunscreen with you."
One day a couple at the breakfast table found the wife snorting giggles. The man asked what was funny. She said, "I had an odd dream last night."
"What about?" He asked.
"Well I went to a penis sale."
"Yeah, the long thick ones were going for 5 thousand dollars. Those that were a bit shorter were going for 2 thousand."
"What about one like mine?" he asked. "Well, they were plentiful," she answered, "but they were going for a dime a dozen."
The next day they met at the table for breakfast. "You won't believe this," he said, "but I had a dream last night."
"Really," she asked. "What about?"
"Well, I dreamed I went to a vagina sale."
"No really, they had vaginas that were small and tight that were going for 10 thousand dollars. Those that were a little stretched out a bit were going for 8 thousand."
"Did they have one like mine?" she asked."Well they only had one like yours, honey, but it wasn't for sale. The auctioneer was standing in it to keep his feet warm."
After Mr. and Mrs. Fenton retired, Mrs. Fenton insisted her husband accompany her on her trips to Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, Mr. Fenton was like most men--he found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunately, Mrs. Fenton was like most women--she loved to browse. One day Mrs. Fenton received the following letter From her local Wal-Mart:
Dear Mrs. Fenton,
Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and may be forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr. Fenton are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.
2 . July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away."
5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on layaway.
6. September 14: Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.
7. September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.
8. September 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"
9. October 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
10. November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
11. December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.
12. December 6: In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look"by using different sizes of funnels.
13. December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through,yelled "PICK ME! PICK ME!"
14. December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
15. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!"Regards, Wal-Mart
A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth, sits down, but says nothing.
The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the drunk continues to sit there.
Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.The drunk mumbles, "Ain't no use knockin', there's no paper on this side either!"
A married businessman meets a beautiful girl and agrees to spend the night with her for $500. He spends the night with her but before he leaves, he tells her that he does not have any cash with him, but he will have his secretary write a check and mail it to her-- calling the payment "RENT FOR APARTMENT."
On the way to the office he regrets what he has done, realizing that the whole event was not worth the price. So he has his secretary send a check for $250 and enclosed the following typed note
Dear Madam: Enclosed you will find a check in the amount of $250 for rent of your apartment. I am not sending the amount agreed upon, because when I rented the apartment, I was under the impression that:
1 - it had never been occupied;
2 - that there was plenty of heat; and
3 - it was small enough to make me feel cozy and at home. However, I found out that it had been previously occupied, that there wasn't any heat, and that it was entirely too large.
Upon receipt of the note, the girl immediately returned the check for $250 with the following note:Dear Sir,
First of all, I cannot understand how you expect a beautiful apartment to remain unoccupied indefinitely. As for the heat, there is plenty of it, if you know how to turn it on. Regarding the space, the apartment is indeed of regular size, but if you don't have enough furniture to fill it, please don't blame the landlady.
Send the rent in full or we will be forced to contact your present landlady.
The boss of a Madison Avenue advertising agency called a spontaneous staff meeting in the middle of a particularly stressful week. (This is one pretty sharp boss!)
When everyone gathered, the boss, who understood the benefits of having fun, told the burnt out staff the purpose of the meeting was to have a quick contest. The theme: Viagra advertising slogans.
The only rule was that they had to use past ad slogans, originally written for other products, which captured the essence of Viagra. Slight variations were acceptable.
About seven minutes later, they turned in their suggestions and created a Top Ten List. With all the laughter and camaraderie, the rest of the week went very well for everyone
The top ten were as follows:
10. Viagra, Whaazzzz up!
9. Viagra, The quicker pecker upper.
8. Viagra, Like a rock!
7. Viagra, When it absolutely, positively has to be there overnight.
6. Viagra, Be all that you can be.
5. Viagra, Reach out and touch someone.
4. Viagra, Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.
3. Viagra, home of the whopper!
2. Viagra, We bring good things to Life!
And the unanimous number one slogan:1. This is your winkie. This is your winkie on drugs.
In Pharmacology, all drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name
For example, the trade name of Tylenol also has a generic name of Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen. Amoxil is also call Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.
The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra. After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin. Also considered were Mycoxafailin,Mydixadrupin, Mydixarizin, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.
Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form, and will be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. It will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it gives new meaning to the names of "cocktails", "highballs" and just a good old-fashioned "stiff drink". Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of: MOUNT & DO.Thought for the day: There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Did you hear the one about a Chinese cook who had a frigid wife?
He was stuck between a wok and a hard place.
Why don't Scotsman have zippers on their kilts ?
The sheep can hear a zipper a mile away.
What's the difference between a golfer and a skydiver?
The golfer goes Smack! Damn. The skydiver goes Damn! Smack.
The difference between an ex-lover and a vulture?
A vulture will wait until you're dead before eating your heart out.
What's the difference between a dead cat in the middle of the road and a dead lawyer in the middle of the road ?
There are brake marks in front of the cat.
How do you know the toothbrush was invented in Kentucky?
If it had been invented anywhere else, it would have been called a "teethbrush".
How have humans been cheated by evolution?
A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church by hand.
He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript. So, the new monk goes to the head abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son."
He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.
Hours go by and nobody sees the old Abbot . . .
So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.
"We missed the R!
We missed the R!
We missed the R! "
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably. The young monk asks the old abbot, "What's wrong, father?"
With a choking voice, the old abbot replies, "The word was..."celebRate !!! "
Thursday, September 27, 2007
|a big shout-out to Ida from sapphoqnfriends|
On a tour of New Zealand, the Pope took a couple of days off to visit the ocean
for some sightseeing.
He was cruising along the beach at the Whakatane Heads in his car when
there was a frantic commotion just off the shore. A helpless man wearing
a green and gold Aussie rugby jersey and hat was struggling frantically to
free himself from the jaws of a 5-metre shark. As the Pope watched,
Horrified, a Waka (Canoe) came cruzin up with two men wearing black &
Kora quickly chucked a harpoon into the shark`s side. Hohepa reached out
and pulled the mauled, bleeding and semi-conscious Aussie from the water.
Then, using long clubs, Kora and Hohepa beat the shark to death and
hauled it into the boat.
Immediately the Pope shouted and summoned them to the beach. "I give you
my blessing for your brave actions," he told them. "I heard that there was
some bitter hatred between New Zealand and
with my own eyes that is not true."
As the Pope drove off, Kora asked Hohepa "Who the bloody hell was that
bro?" "That was the Pope mate," Hohepa replied. "He's in direct contact
with God bro, and has access to all of God's wisdom."
"Well," Kora said "he may have access to God's wisdom but the prick don't
know Jack Sh*t about shark fishing......... Is the bait holding up okay
or do we need to get another Aussie?"
Friday, September 21, 2007
What kind of mistakes do spooks make? Boo-boos
What's the first thing ghosts do when they get in the car? Boo-kle their seat belts
How do you mend a broken Jack-O-Lantern? With a pumpkin patch
Who won the skeleton beauty contest? No body
Who did Frankenstein take to the prom? His ghoul friend
What’s a monster’s favorite play?
Romeo and Ghouliet
What does Tweety Bird say on Halloween? Twick or Tweet
Where do spooks water ski? On Lake Erie
Political Science for Dummies
BLEEDING HEART LIBERAL
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.
CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.
BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pour the milk down the drain.
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an I.P.O. on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows..
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.
You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.
You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really do have.
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but instead you use the money to buy weapons.
You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.
You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks she's French, other times she's Flemish
The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.
You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegal.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Three aspiring psychiatrists who had gotten their pre-med degrees at three different universities were attending their first class in .
"Just to establish some parameters" said the professor to the student from SUNY-Albany, "What is the opposite of joy?"
"Sadness," said the student.
And the opposite of depression?" he asked the student from Tufts.
"Elation", said the student.
"And you," he said to the student from Oklahoma State University, "How about the opposite of woe?"
The student replied, "Sir, I believe that would be giddy up."
with a big shout-out to Vixen:
The Pope took a couple of days off to visit the mountains of Alaska for some sight-seeing. He was cruising along the campground in the Pope-mobile when there was a frantic commotion just at the edge of the woods.
A helpless Democrat, wearing sandals, shorts, a "Save the Whales" hat, and a "To Hell with Bush" T-shirt, was screaming while struggling frantically, thrashing around trying to free himself from the grasp of a 10 foot grizzly bear.
As the Pope watched horrified, a group of Republican loggers came racing up. One quickly fired a .44 magnum into the bear's chest.
The other two reached up and pulled the bleeding, semiconscious Democrat from the bear's grasp. Then using long clubs, the three loggers finished off the bear and two of them threw it onto the bed of their truck while the third tenderly placed the injured Democrat in the back seat.
As they prepared to leave, the Pope summoned them all to come over.
"I give you my blessing for your brave actions!" he told them. "I heard there was a bitter hatred between Republican loggers and Democratic environmental activists, but now I've seen with my own eyes that this is just not true."
As the Pope drove off, one of the loggers asked his buddies, "Who was that guy?"
"It was the Pope," another replied. "He's in direct contact with heaven and has access to all wisdom."
"Well," the logger said, "he may have access to all wisdom but he sure don't know squat about bear hunting! Is the bait holding up, or do we need to go back to Massachusetts and get another one?"
Saturday, September 01, 2007
1. Who ended your last relationship? I did. She was nukin futs.
2. When is the last time you shaved your legs? Last week.
3. What were you doing this morning at 8 AM? Taking the dog for a vigorous walk. I been reading and watching "The Dog Whisperer" and have begun to embrace some of his ideas.
4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Checking my e-mail.
5. Are you any good at math? Yes but in a funny way. I am good at solving geometry problems for example but never did understand the why behind having to write out each step in proofs. To me, having to write out each step is stupid.
6. What were you doing last night? Friday night is date night. Husband and I date each other.
7. Do you have any famous ancestors? Nope.
8. Have you ever burped in front of the opposite sex? Yeah. So what? This questionnaire was written by a hetero-ecentric.
9. Do you know the words to the song on your MySpace page? Don't got MySpace. I'm too old.
11. How many different beverages have you drunk today? Three. Diet coke, coffee and water.
12. What's one thing you wish to change about yourself? Wish to change: organization non-skills, housework routines, and the ability to translate my vision and creativity into making a living. Uh, that's three. Wishing to change vs. wanting to do the work to change...two different things. I lack motivation and development of options. I keep striving.
I have gotten real good at making charts of my imaginary housework routines.
13. What do you wish for? I wish for truthful politicians.
14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? Yup. In a witch sort of way I have done things like that.
15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had? My mother didn't believe in the use of any numbing agents when the dentist worked on [my] teeth. Anything done in childhood was fairly painful-- from the tooth with the too long roots that had to be extracted to cavities.
16. What is outside your back door? When weeds grow in garden space, they become wildflowers.
17. Any plans for Friday night? Friday night is date night.
18. Do you like music? Yup.
19. Do you work for yourself, in the home, or outside the home? [modified question]. I am currently concentrating on my health.
20. Do you keep in touch with your ex's? No. My exes remain exes for some pretty good reasons.
21. Do you dislike anyone right now? Yeah. So?
22. Something you are excited about? Hope.
23. What is your favorite flavor of Jello? Cherry.
24. Are any of your great-grandparents still alive? No.
25. Describe your key chain. Uh, which one?
26. [There was no such number, so Morawen made it up.] How many flash drives do you have? A bunch.
27. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group? A few weeks ago I think.
28. What kind of winter coat do you have? Several. This question does not excite me.
29. What does your favorite shirt look like? I like old washed out comfortable teeshirts and jeans. I don't wear anything else ever unless I am forced to.
30. Can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue? This is a stupid question and I am not answering it on the grounds that some readers will assume some sort of dirty sexual innuendos and whatever about me and I'm not having it because I am totally pure and all of that and my husband seems to think that sucking tennis balls through a garden hose is a better skill to have and besides tieing a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue wouldn't even get me a job with the circus and how dare you assume that we all have tongues you hetero-centric question writer you I demand that your personnel office provide you with inservices on sensitivity to the...............
Picture is one I took and doctored. That is my older kitty in it.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
with a shout-out to dark christians over at el jay
GOD: Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.
St. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
GOD: Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.
GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
ST. FRANCIS: No, Sir, they pay to throw it away.
GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow, and, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?
ST. FRANCIS: Yes, Sir.
GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.
St. FRANCIS: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?
ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.
GOD: And where do they get this mulch?
ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE: "Dumb a nd Dumber", Lord. It's a story about...
GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
leaving her behind. She'd seen the Bean bags and suitcases and assumed the worst. I dragged her to the tennis
courts and back.
We made the eight o'clock and headed up route one for Freeport. Once there, we ate at Stickey Buns [overpriced
but delicious] and then we browsed a few stores. I got a pair of fuzzy socks for lounging around in. We walked
around Beans too, neither one of us purchasing anything there. The L.L. Bean's staff are trained to ask everyone
they walk into how they "are." What if I told them the truth?
The truth is husband's oldest sister asked us the other day if we wouldn't want to go with her mother to some rock
city in Jordan or somewheres in October on a tour. Not having the money to drop, we said no. Does it dawn on
these people ever that we have not had an easy time of this for the past three and a half years or so since my car
accident? I'm on disability. I've got no job. My prospects are thin. Running Sores is not exactly telling
anyone that I was golden. I'm being pressured to work full-time and I don't even know if I can manage a part-time
unless I wind up working for myself. I interviewed for an aide position at a t.b.i. day program and possibly even
to sub as a kitchen helper or at a group home. Dude claimed I have to be able to lift for their group homes. I
know they got some where no, one does not need to lift. No dice. I can't even get an interview for delivering
newspapers or working at a store for cripes sakes. Where are we supposed to pull this money from to go on such
a trip in October? Out of our asses? I'm too old to be a prostitute.
After escaping the clutches of Freeport, husband drove us down to Portland so we could eat lunch [overpriced but
delicious] and go to the comics shop. Then a run to the supermarket for him and the Goodwill for me and back to
the island on the two o'clock boat.
The dog was happy to see me and I was happy to see her. Husband's cousin had arrived on island and stopped by to
talk to me. I like her well enough. We click and she doesn't roll her eyes in horror at the thought of surfing
the net or having a computer art program. One of the great things about her is that she is not afraid of the words
traumatic brain injury. [The rest of husband's family dwells on my back injuries which by far is the least of my
troubles at the moment. My father didn't even tell his side of the family that I'd had a car accident]. Cousin
happened to mention the same trip to Jordan. She and her husband will also be going. Mother-in-law has been
complaining about 8-12K she needs for roof work to be done on this cottage in the spring of '08. Bloody hell, why
not go to Jordan?
Mother-in-law has been having stream-of-consciousness over-idealized monologues about her perfect life lately. The
topic over dinner [chicken for me, salmon for them, stringbeans, corn on the cob, and tomato slices for all] was her
very own perfect diet and she eats salt and butter and still manages to keep her weight the same. That along with
the idyllic farm that her mum grew up on and that she visited. I was not having an easy time of things. I cannot
seem to lose weight and barely manage to stay around the same weight. And she has a perfect life and a perfect
upbringing and a perfect everything and perfect trips to England and one other exotic location every year.
I am tired of having to start at the bottom with the job thing. I have been told over and over how smart I am, how
much talent I have and I know these things. The tragedy is that I have not been able to sell myself into a position
of money. It's always start at the bottom, work my way up. My working experience seems always to count for naught.
So with the last job, starting at the bottom once again, I worked my way up and then along comes a moron who had to
get high before driving and there went my well-paying career. I hated it anyway. But this? An insult to my life
once again. I am tired of having to pay for what other people do. I am angry. Seething. In a rage over it and
I cannot find my way home.
After the meeting tonight was reading, computer time, this bitchy synopsis, listening to the neighbor's drunken kids
peel up and down the road, and bed.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
to come to pick up her car sans muffler which had fallen off. I took doggie up the South Road to the tip of the
island and then back along Hamilton Beach. She had a fairly good run and enjoyed it I think. The extra time she
has been getting heeling on the lead also seems to make her happier and more sure of me as the leader.
Back home, she refused to go inside. She was allowed to lay next to the chair on the porch [on lead of course] and
then she migrated to her favorite corner next to the door. The three humans [husband, husband's sister, and I] plus
my dog and the Daemon Dawg went off to Fishermens' Beach for an hour or so. A beached float provided a place
underneath where both dogs were excavating a nest. Both also enjoyed the water and chasing each other in wide
circles toward the end of it all.
After a pleasant lunch, we all sat around engaged in solitary pursuits.
Dog-walking, dinner, library time, and quiet time rounded out the day and evening.
off to church. I took the doggie for walks and made 100x100 icons/avatars with The GIMP. Husband and I took dog
and mother-in-law's dog to the beach.
Mother-in-law's dog, hereby known as Daemon Dawg, is a terrier with a rotten temperment that the Dog Whisperer would
describe as being in the danger zone. She bit me once and I beat her right in front of my mother-in-law. She has
bitten, nipped, and growled at other people too. The Dog Whisperer would probably insist on putter her down or at
least upon a muzzle. If it were up to me and the Daemon Dawg had to stay alive, i'd be in favor of yanking all of her
fangs out. And vocal cords too, since she won't shut up.
On the beach, the Daemon Dawg lets loose and runs all over frantically in huge sweeping circles, jumping over rocks,
and frolicking in the waves. She plays well with my dog and when we all came upon two bigger dogs, the Daemon Dawg
allowed herself to be chased without so much as a snarl. Showing herself to be a good sport, the two larger dogs
went on to play in general and it was all very chummy.
The party wasn't. The party was a vast amount of suckage, with fancy food and five bottles of alcohol mixed in with
a bunch of old people and the four of us. The Daemon Dawg had been shuttled off to mother-in-law's bedroom where
she proceeded to bark non-stop for three hours. My dog was supposed to stay in our bedroom. This did not entirely
suit her as she is fairly social. I escaped up there for most of the party-- which was full of talk and legal things
about wills and such since a neighbor's sister had just kicked the bucket fairly young-- and make a break for the
outdoors, saying merely that the dog wished to go for her evening constitution. As we got back, the party was
Husband had come upstairs asking if I wasn't coming down at all. I informed him that I was having difficulty with
the booze, the idea that he was bartending, and what was occuring between mother-in-law and grieving neighbor. When
the news had come down to church this morning that neighbor's sister had died, mother-in-law could not wait to insert
herself into the middle of it all. Quite like when she had showed up unwanted by my grandmother's deathbed and I
had been vocal beforehand about not wishing her presence there. It is hard enough to die without being expected to
suffer the presence of a stranger. And hard enough to grieve without being exposed to all kinds of advice and so
At any rate, the suckage was over with at 8:30 p.m. or so. Reading and computer time as usual before bed.
Saturday dawned a bit overcast and windy. Nippy. Doggie and I went for a nice walk. At 10, husband and I were off
to the library. I spent an hour in fustration and irritation because I couldn't remember how to connect to the
hotspot there. Pissy I was. I did go next door to the town hall where Daisy the [vietnamese pot-bellied] pig was
a featured guest with her human. Daisy was almost all black, had a pink bow, and was installed on a comfy chair
sleeping. She did not seem to care at all about her surroundings. Her human told the kids about her and I imagine
read a book about a pig. I didn't stay for that part.
Finally, I used husband's connection to update several blogs and whip out a couple of pissy self-pitying e-mails.
The power went out at the library then. We went to the store where I indulged in three selections of chocolate
candy and an orange blossom ice cream bar. Husband had an m&m ice cream cone. "This looks different," he said as
he reached into the freezer for it. Total charge was an even six bucks. Neither of us are convinced that Ed has
set prices for his merchandise. Wife Julie, the real brain of the couple, was absent.
Husband went for a walk, I took the dog for another walk and then retired for a nap. About 4:15 my c-pap machine
went off. I ambled downstairs to discover that our house was missing electric. I and doggie wandered down to the
dock on the west side of the island and spoke to the lobsterers. Power was out on the island. Back at the cottage,
the old people around had announced that Chebeague, Deer, and all of Yarmouth was affected. Long Island too, as it
Husband's turn to grumble. His yellow split pea soup was not finished cooking on the electric stove. His mother
left with the congregation of old people to go off to a barbeque. Husband's sister, husband, and I had cheese on
crackers and salad for dinner. Unfortunately, no one answered the phone at the clamshack so the going out for ice
cream as dessert got vetoed.
That left me in a bit of a funk. I called home to a friend in recovery and we talked for a bit. I called another
friend in New Hampshire to check in on how he was doing and left a message on his cell. The lights came back on
about 7:45 or so and I read for a bit and filled up the rest of the evening with the computer and a doggie stroll.
Monday, August 20, 2007
of a house and into a hole carved between two ornaments under the roof. The hole was large and perfect for the
squirrel. I wondered if the squirrel was a he or a she. If there was a squirrel family in there. And how long
before the owner would notice and do something about it. The squirrel didn't come back out.
Husband did. "It's raining," I said as I shut the window. He shrugged. "Not much," he replied. I indicated the
inside of the door where the rain had come in. "Not much now."
sapphoq n friends
Saturday, August 18, 2007
This morning, husband and I loaded doggie and a variety of suitcases into the car and we took off for Maine. We got here this afternoon. Husband's eldest sister came to pick us up. Dinner was a cream chicken dish, salad, and peaches and ice cream. Mother-in-law complained during dinner about one of her granddaughers. Granddaughter had moved far away with her lover and hadn't seen my mother-in-law in pretty near a year. Mother-in-law complained about the guests that granddaughter had invited along. Mother-in-law has something wrong with her I think and has probably had her whole life. Because she is rich though, she got to be eccentric rather than subjected to mental hell 'treatment.' That is a story for another time, After dinner was the island A.A. meeting and now a bit of reading before bedtime.The fire is going in the kitchen woodstove which makes things toasty. The skeeters are out full-force tonight and the autumn weather is slowly moving in. It was a relief to get back here after the meeting and away from the little bastards who are flying blood-suckers.The reason for coming up here has been moved from tomorrow Saturday to Sunday evening. And it has become a family of four plus whatever other flotsam plan to show up for lemonade and whatever alcohol will be available. I was a bit put out at first for the party being moved and us not being notified until Wednesday evening. In the end, I decided that it didn't matter to me. Husband was the one who had to take the extra day off of work when he still believed that the party was to be Saturday.We left this morning anyways. I do not enjoy the feeling of being held hostage to someone else's whims. Since this party has dissolved into something less than family, if I'd had my druthers, I woul have elected to come back up here some other week. My homegroup N.A. picnic is Saturday and so I am missing it this year for this non-party up here in Maine. It was supposed to be a big gathering with all the family and some sort of weird-ass christmas tree out front decorated for the occasion. None of that happened. It is what it is. Pretty island and the dog likes it-- two things right there.SaturdayCloudy day.I took the dog for a nice walk.Then husband and I went to the library.I was all set to download my mail to incredimail here at the library hotspot
and the stupid ucking puter will not connect.
it says the adapter is under control by another program.
Going to instructions windows from husband's computer it says
run system 32 root etc and the damn puter
cannot find it.
I will have to fix when I get home
hopefully without a high bloodpressure attack.
I hate my laptop.
husband's just a button connects.
Stupid party is tomorrow-- it turns out
just four of us "family" including motherinlaw--
if I knew that iIwoulda just
Meanwhile I am sure iIwill feel better but
I just dont know when,
On the plus side I finally finished and sent in
application for the state program to give me a job.
It is not definite that I will get one but at least
it is sent.
And when I get home I am going to apply to
Goodwill for a part-time job.
Maybe some other places too.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
SOCIALISM: You have 2 cows, and you give one to your neighbor.
COMMUNISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and gives you
FASCISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and sells you some milk.
NAZISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and shoots you.
BUREAUCRATISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, then throws the milk away.
TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy
SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to
AN AMERICAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyze why the cow has dropped dead.
ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax
exemption for five cows.
THE ANDERSEN MODEL: You have two cows. You shred them.
A FRENCH CORPORATION: You have two cows. You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the roads, because you want three cows.
A JAPANESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called "Cowkimon" and market it worldwide.
A GERMAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.
AN ITALIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows, but you don't know where they are. You decide to have lunch.
A RUSSIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You count them and learn you have five cows. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. You count them again and learn you have 2 cows. You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
A SWISS CORPORATION: You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you. You charge the owners for storing them.
A CHINESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.
AN INDIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You worship them.
A BRITISH CORPORATION: You have two cows. Both are mad.
IRAQI CORPORATION: Everyone thinks you have lots of cows. You tell them that you have none. No-one believes you, so they bomb the s**t out of you and invade your country. You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.
WELSH CORPORATION: You have two cows. The one on the left looks very attractive.
AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. Business seems pretty good. You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.