Carcusses and My Library

I'm sitting in my library/computer room, looking at all the books that I've consumed over the years.

I have five big book shelves completely crammed full, some what in alphabetical order. I probably need three more bookcases to get completely organized, but it's okay. Because I love this room. With one exception.

My husband has killed some animals over the last several years and for some reason, he thinks it necessary to stick the dead animal heads on the walls. I've refused to allow him to place them in my living room where their dead, glassy eyes can watch me as I watch television. And the dining room is out. Eww.

So here I sit, with several "trophy" animals staring down at me from their perch on my walls.

We've had long, loud and drawn out debates on the ethical side of hunting. Even though I always win these arguments with my wit and intelligence, it has not deterred him in the slightest from peering through a scope and murdering these poor defenseless animals.

Don't get me wrong. I love me a great big greasy cheeseburger.......or a t-bone steak, but I prefer that the meat come all nice and prepackaged.

And I also wish I didn't have to have these corpses on my walls ruining my most favoritest room.

This goes in the con column of marrying and sharing your life with someone.

But, like I've said before, he better be glad he's so handsome. Or I'm not sure if it would be worth it.



And he cracks me up...(note the porn stash)

Things That Make Me Go "Hmmmm"

Every once in a while I'll ponder the meaning of certain things. (Yeah, I know...scares the shit outta me, too.)

Like for instance, there are a couple of blogs that I read that just make me feel stupid and I wonder why I subject myself. Let me explain.

It's like reading the business section of the paper. Most of the time, I'm not exactly sure what I'm reading, but I keep thinking that I'm going to get smarter if I just stick with it. The big words that I don't understand, the obscure pop culture references, among other things, just skim the surface of my brain and I have no effing clue what is being talked about. But, man, when something clicks, I feel like a damn rocket scientist.

And then it'll occur to me....Why the hell do I bother? Am I a glutton for punishment? Why am I wasting my time reading tripe that I haven't got a damn clue what is actually being discussed?

And I really, really, really hate feeling stupid. Go figure.

Another thing that I don't get. Lady Gaga. Why exactly? Why does someone like her get all this attention? Frankly, I find her unattractive and the music sub par. But then again, any time one of her videos comes on, I find myself watching it with my mouth hanging open in puzzled bewilderment.

And why does she get to make out with Alexander Skarsgard? Life is just unfair at times.



Here's another one.

Why does my body rebel on me every month? If it wouldn't make me grow chin hair and be put on hormone treatment, I would seriously beg someone to rip out my uterus. It's retired anyway and completely redundant at this point.

I also don't understand nipples on men.

I also wonder if ugly people experience love at first sight with someone in their league. Is that mean? If it is, I apologize, but this is something that I've wondered when I see a couple that makes me believe that there is, indeed, someone for everyone.

Like this girl...Did someone see her and think, I've got to have me some of that?


Why do people buy hummers? Does it make them feel powerful? Or more attractive? It's such a douche bag car. Kind of like Ed Hardy t-shirts. Yes, somewhat attractive at times, but it just screams "Look At Me!! I NEED Attention!" Am I the only one that feels this way? Just to be clear, Ed Hardy was in maybe two years ago, but when they started selling so called one of a kinds at Sam's for $19.95, it's definitely a sign that the whole Ed Hardy thing has run it's course.



I also don't understand people that can't hear obvious sarcasm. I don't know exactly how I come across on here, but in real life, I'm a very sarcastic person. It amuses me. And I come off as an asshole from time to time, especially if you just don't "get me". But mostly, I'm full of shit and I know it, and if you have half a brain, you wouldn't let me offend you when I'm not being serious. I'm just screwing around.

Seriously, how do these people make it through life?

I also hate those bumper stickers that say stupidly cheerful things.





Usually, if I'm reading your bumper sticker, it's because I'm tailgating you and I don't give a shit if you "Hate Mean People". That just makes me want to flip you off, that way when I pass you, you'll realize that you should maybe, probably, at the very minimum, go the damn speed limit.

Another thing. If you're from somewhere that has great amounts of snow, do not come to Florida and bore the locals with how cold it is "back home" and say that we're wimps for shivering when the high only reaches sixty. Sure, it's not as cold as a well digger's ass, or a witches tittie (never understood that saying.....how cold is a witches tittie? And is that "ie" or just "y"?) but to us poor Floridians, it's scarf, wool underwear time.

Okay, I've vented enough. I'll end with a little story from last week at school.

So, I'm not sure if this is common or not, but I pray not.

Teenage kids, and this boy in particular, are strange.

I walk into the office late last week and there's this boy boo-hooing in the office. I mean, boo-hooing. Snotting, hiccuping...the whole nine yards.

When I ask what he's in the Principal's office for, I found out that the kid was caught whacking off.......in class....Wth??

What's really disturbing, I had a kid ask me for some lotion yesterday afternoon. Not the same boy. A different one.

Is this normal adolescent behavior?

Genetic Floor Pissing

As a mom of a young man that is almost thirteen, it is a constant battle to keep my house clean. And, seeing as I might be a bit of an O.C.D. control freak, I like to keep a very (very, very, very) clean house.

And he's a pig. Seriously.

I live with three males and I'm completely outnumbered.

My youngest son is ten and while they're completely different in every other respect, they are very similar in the fact that their aim is way off while taking a piss. Knowing my husband, it must be genetic.

We have a big house, so everyone has their own bathrooms. Sounds nice, until you set out to clean them. I enter with caution, a gallon of bleach and rubber gloves.

"Jesus!" is usually the first thing out of my mouth upon entry.

"You've got to be kidding me!" is not far behind.

By the time I finish, my lungs are burning, eyes are watering and I've typically developed even more disgust for my offspring than ever before. Yes, it may sound harsh, but disgust is really the only emotion that moves through my body as I'm scrubbing the piss off the surrounding walls and that little holding area every toilet seems to come equipped with located at the floor where it bolts in.

I have many friends that ask why I don't make them clean it up themselves. Sure, I've done this, but it is never up to my standards.

Put it like this. I once cleaned my oldest son's bathroom and a few days later, he comes out and says, "I love it when the toilet is blue, mom."

And me, puzzled, asked him how the toilet was still blue.

"I've been peeing in the shower so that it'll stay clean."

Huh?

I'm not making this shit up.

One morning, I went in to his room to wake him up for school before leaving for work and you literally could not see the floor. I do my normal routine, lose my mind a little, threaten him with loss of limb if its not clean before I get home from work and head out.

When I arrive home that afternoon, my husband has him in the truck, heading out for baseball practice. He rolls the passenger window down and shouts out at me, "Mom, I remembered to clean my room!" and as I'm about to say thank you, he finishes with this, "I just didn't do it!"

I guess he wanted a pat on the back for at least remembering what I wanted him to do.

I really, really need a maid. Problem is, she/he probably wouldn't clean it to my standards either.

Ball Busters

Could you imagine being raised by a ball buster such as Gloria Allred?



She has done many memorable things within her life time and while I admire many, it seems as though I only see her when someone is screwing someone they shouldn't be (and she typically falls on the side of the woman - who is usually screwing a married man, which I find ironic, as she is a great proponent for legalizing gay marriage. She continually mocks the sanctity of the institution, while fighting for the rights of everyone to join in.) or jumping in on cases that have shit to do with her.

It's actually very smart. If you're a media hound.

She is the one that filed a suit against Jacko when the weird (but talented - I'll give him that much) asshole dangled his baby off a balcony a few years back (for those of you that were living under a rock at the time). She actually notified child protective services, as though they didn't know.

But it did get her name in the news. So, kudos.

Honestly, I've always thought she was a man hater. It seems as though whenever she is on CNN or whatever channel she is currently subjecting their viewers to her holier than thou persona, it is to rip apart some hapless man.

(I say hapless, because ladies, lets be honest - most of the time, men are just dumb asses. Even the smart ones are dumb asses. It's some type of extra gene that comes along with the excess testosterone. Kind of like an extra chromosome, but without the visual bad shit.)

And before anyone thinks I'm against gay marriage, let me assure you that I believe anyone that is willing to subject themselves to anything that can be referred to as an institution should by all means have the right to do so. Especially for those that need a spouse so that they can have health insurance.

Her daughter is Lisa Bloom, who is also an attractive woman that has a tendency to hate on the men on national television.

I guess that apple didn't fall far from that tree.

And to make mommy proud, she even sued the Boy Scouts for not allowing a girl to join. Bet she got an "Atta girl!" for that one.

Is CNN the new Fox?

I was watching the news this morning and CNN was discussing the death of designer Alexander McQueen.

I guess I've been out of the fashion world long enough that I had no idea who the hell he was, other than I recognize some of his crazy ass clothes.

Think Lady Gaga.



Who, other than her, would wear this crap? And Sarah Jessica Parker?

I do have to say that it wasn't always bad. He had some beautiful pieces, although they were a touch eccentric and no "normal" person would ever be able to wear them.

Such as this:



He was definitely an artist that pretended to design clothes.

Anyway, reminiscing over a designer that had the bad taste to "allegedly" kill himself is not the point of this post.

CNN said, and I quote, "Alexander McQueen went out on his own terms".

??????

Is this how you report the tragedy of a lost human being killing themselves?

They discussed the fact that his mother died eight days ago and he must have been depressed.

You think?

Anyway, I will point out that personally, I feel sorry for anyone weak minded enough to end their life prematurely due to their own inability to deal with life. Life.

It sucks. It is hard. People die. Deal with it.

And if you can't deal with it on your own, rather than make your loved ones suffer, get your selfish ass to a shrink and figure it out.

CNN, if you actually read anything other than your own tripe and the New York Post, read this.

Do me a favor. Do not glamorize the poor schmuck's suicide. It's not glamorous.

Just ask the cleaning crew.

EVIL EYED LAURIE

>
Hi.

My name is Laurie and I'm a bitch.

I've discovered this over the last couple of days. I've always suspected, but now I know it as fact.

You want to know how I know this?

Well, I'm the new teacher's aide at my son's middle school. Yes. THE HORROR!

He's adjusting, as he doesn't have any other choice.

And apparently, the newbies get stuck with the bad kids. You know...the ones that scream profanities, destroy school property, break people's noses and let's not forget the worst of the bunch.....the ones that are consistently tardy or out of uniform....but that is a whole different issue.

Anyway, I'm in charge of those kids that make bad choices, at least for the next several weeks, but I have to say that I might have found my niche.

They are terrified of me. Seriously.

And all I had to do was give them the evil eye and scream at the top of my lungs a couple of times. It's pretty amazing, actually.



I already have a REPUTATION.

My son has the insider's view.

He's been hearing either, "Dude, your mom is hot!" or "Dude, your mom is such a BITCH!"

I'm just glad he's my son, because over the last several days, I've realized that I have pretty good kids.

So, thank you, God. You done me right in the whole procreation thing.

Vampire Sluts and Why We Love Them

Okay, so the title was just to get your attention. Mostly.


Okay, so sue me, I love me some good Hollywood gossip. It's really beneath me, yada, yada, so what, kiss my ass.

Anyway, I guess that Kristen Stewart (aka: Bella) had to serve on jury duty last week. Or this week. Or something. Whatever.

I guess she actually got selected and it totally made her lose street cred in my book. WHO IN HELL CAN'T COME UP WITH AN EXCUSE TO GET KICKED OUT????

Really?

1. Q: Ma'am, do you have any family members or close friends with the arresting police department?

A: Weeeellll, a train was pulled on me at a party about a month ago. The arresting officer was definitely there. I recognize him by his gun.



2. Q: Do you have any reason, morally or religiously, for opposing prosecuting someone for the alleged crime?

A: If the defendant isn't Mormon.



3. Q: Are you biased in any way towards people of a differently ethnicity or sexual orientation than you?

A: Hell no! The gayer, the better! I've considered being a lesbian since the eighth grade when Tommy, the little queer, broke my heart and went out with that little chica slut Maria.



4. Cry, sob, moan, blow you nose incessantly. When they ask you what's wrong, point at the defendant and rush out of the room.

*I'm sure this would work if you were called into multiple courtrooms for selection.

5. Start twitching all over and rub your nose like you have a thousand dollar a day coke habit. For extra points, keep flour in your pocket to rub on the end of your nose any time an attorney approaches the juror's box. (You might get arrested, but the charges would fall through after a little bit of investigation.

6. In the manner of Larry Flynt, you could do one of two things. One, wear a diaper or two, a shirt that says "Fuck This Court". One of three things could/will happen.
a. You're held in contempt
b. You're fined
c. You're released from jury duty

Please note: You could really double ensure you won't be serving if you wear both.

7. What are all the other young moronic girls doing in Hollywood? Get arrested, girl! If you are convicted of a crime, you won't even have to come up with an excuse.

Really...how hard would any of this be for Kristen Stewart? Sure, the gossip mags might go a little wild for a while, but aren't they already a little over the top?

And while I know there are some out there that really don't mind doing their civic duty, Kristen Stewart doesn't exactly strike me as the patriotic type



(other than her portrayal of Pat Benatar, even though she was no Cissy Spacek in Coal Miner's Daughter- now THAT my friends, is American.).



If you disagree, I'll water board your ass.

Semper Fi, bitches.

Old Jobs, New Jobs, Broken Bones & Piss

Hot damn!

Okay, so I have two more days at my current job....I'm going to have a hell of a time trying to get everything in order for the next dumb ass...I mean person that fills the position. And the process has been greatly compromised.

Let me explain.

Tonight, my youngest son (he's 10) was at church and the brilliant organizer's of his age group thought that it would be a good idea for the kids to do a relay race....with OTHER children on their backs...

Yes, I know. Morons.

Lets just say that D.C. got his coordination gene from his mother, which means that he trips over his own feet on a regular basis. (Hey, I got beauty and brains - God didn't see fit to bless me with gracefulness, too - what do you expect? A trifecta?)

Anyhow, he takes two steps and does a face plant. AND BREAKS HIS FRIGGIN' WRIST IN HALF!!!!

Baby Jesus, please help me.

So, he was there with my sister in law and I was out picking up dinner when she called, and as I was wearing my ghetto ass slippers (they're actually fuzzy green, with leopard print detailing - don't judge me), I hauled ass home to put on some real shoes and beat a trail to the hospital.

I calmed him down, bless his little heart, and they took x-rays, where it was discovered that he broke one of the bones in his wrist clear through. What was weird, he only broke one of them, which is apparently rare (YAY, D.C., way to be unique) which also made it more difficult to set.

Before they sedated him, he let me know that he had to pee, really, really bad. They wouldn't let him get up, hence, I had to hold a little urinal with him laying down.

I think I traumatized him for life. Not because I saw his wee-wee. No, not that.

I was shaking, as my nerves are never good when traumatic shit is going down and his thing slipped out of the top of the urinal, so he proceeded to piss on him and me both. He's yelling at me at the top of his lungs, I'm trying to grab his thingie and shove it back into the top of the plastic thingie and managed to dump everything that had made it in the urinal all over his lap.

Yes. It was a damn mess.

I'm just glad he was on morphine and I hope the memory might be dim around the edges. God help me.

So, we had to cut his shirt (which piss had soaked) off of him, take the rest of his clothes off and clean him up, remove all the bedding, before we could settle him back down.

I really wish the nurse would have let me help him to the bathroom.

In the end, all the nurses and everyone in the hall way heard him yelling at me because my hand slipped. Yes, they got a good laugh out of it all.

And, honestly, reading this post, I think some type of comedy should be created based on the stupid shit that seems to constantly be happening to me.

I'm also trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to finish my job with a gimped up child that can't go to school in a splint AND how I'm supposed to start my new job on Monday when I have to get a cast slapped on him the same day?

Do you think it would be frowned upon if I brought D to work with me my first day on the job?

Proctology and the Lady With Stinky Hands

"You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father's. He's more particular." ~Robert Frost


Yesterday was a hellacious day.

I had to go for a physical, drug testing, fingerprinting and an orientation.

I was good during the majority of the orientation, but by the time the last speaker was talking, my eyes started to get heavy and my head was nodding off. Apparently, I don't do well when I have to sit for prolonged periods of time with nothing to keep my hands or brain busy.

I was sent to one of my new employer's physicians for a physical and everything was going fine there (I even bluffed my way through the eye exam - at least I think I did) and gave myself a big pat on the back for wearing underwear that day (and they actually matched my bra) when this lady comes in to give me a look over.

She looked in my ears, made sure my teeth were not rotting out and flipped up my gown to feel on my belly. I had only one issue with her.

When she stuck the tongue depressor in my mouth, her hands smelled like B-O. I don't know if she'd been feeling in some hairy guy's arm pits without gloves on or what, but it was disgusting.

My belly was already feeling kind of icky, as I'd been running all over God's green earth and had not had time to eat. When the smell hit my nose, I might've gagged a little. I'm sure she attributed it to the fact that she had a wooden stake half way down my throat, but Lord have mercy! She's extremely fortunate that I didn't vomit on her. (I wonder if she would've cleared me for work if I had?)

Now, I don't know what it is to work in the medical profession, nor do I have any interest in finding out. But for all of you guys out there with stronger stomachs than moi, please, please, please wash your hands with something that kills the horrible smells that you come into contact with.

Another thing I've been wondering.

My dad has got some serious butt hole issues, which he enjoys going into great detail right about the time I'm getting ready to eat dinner (that's when he usually calls). He lives in Colorado and travels the three hours to Denver to see a proctologist to find out why he's having a period out of his asshole.

My question is: What would possess someone to want to look at butt holes all day long?

Can this be normal? I mean, when you're doing your internship and you're choosing a specialty, what makes you settle on THAT? Any profession that has people regularly bringing in stool samples cannot be entertaining, right? Do you enjoy digging around in shit? Trying to figure out what that person ate based on the level of digestive breakdown? What is the draw?

Gynecology? I understand. Even if after you become a gynecologist, you realize that the majority of cooters you're going to be looking at is over weight, diseased, or massively stretched out, the fantasy of it all might lure you in.

Dermatology? Maybe you have a fascination with popping zits and you think squeezing pus all day in enjoyable. I know there are such people.

Certain folks even have feet fetishes, so I get that.

But proctology? It is beyond my ken.

Not the Cleaver's....or even the Griswold's.

Have you ever met those kind of people that are totally inappropriate? Like they have no idea what constitutes being a normal, upright citizen? The one that walks like they have cerebral palsy in the mall, even when the only twitch in their body is the one in their brain that sends electric waves shooting through their neuro pathways which is the only logical conclusion as to why they would behave in such a douche bag, moronic way?

Well......I'm related to them.

Seriously.

I have a relative that cried for five days when his dog died, and I mean hysterically, but when his mother died, he snuck into her house that night and stole her refrigerator.

I have another relative that has five kids by three different men and was caught stripping across the county line in a real dump, where the lice in the toilet pole vault onto your genitals just to catch a ride out of the joint.

Another relative is a witch. Seriously, he (yes, he) believes that if he worships a pagan god, he will develop some kind of super powers like Samantha in Bewitched. If you think Southern Baptists are bad about preaching at you, wait until you get a load of this joker.

I have another relative that once put bullet holes into the back of our car because she was angry with my mom.

Another relative that moved to the mountains in Colorado, changed his name and doesn't wear anything other than flannel. I can't remember what he changed his name to, but its something like Rocky. Yeah, you heard me.

This one girl in the family will go to the beach, meet men and have sex with them while her husband secretly watches.

Another one is a child molester, then there is the con (wo)man, the evil one, the alcoholic, the pill addict and the schizophrenic one (she's actually entertaining to be around).....The list goes on and on. I have an enormous family, and while there are a few of them that I wish would drop dead, as it would make the world an entirely better place, I'm thankful for them.

Even if I don't want to use a wash cloth after them, or randomly tell strangers my maiden name as they might put two and two together and Lord knows who or what they will come up with.

I'm thankful for them because I guess I'm glad that they were the ones stuck with the crazy gene and my branch of the family seems to have escaped it (with the exception of my dad thinking my mom practices voo doo and my brother refusing to get a steady job).

I was talking with my mom a while back and she told me that in some way or another we are related to Lana Turner. All of her grandmother's family were Turner's and one of her aunt's had a room papered with memorabilia from Lana's life. I looked her up and it turns out the crazy gene was definitely fully in place through out her reign in Hollywood and beyond.



I'm just pissed that I didn't inherit her boobs.