This was supposed to have posted on Sept. 24th, believe it or not. I just now got it recovered for posting. Sorry! Ignore it if you think it's too out of date. Just wanted to share.
I have been banned! Yes, Queenie banned me from commenting on her blogs for, like, three days! How unfair! For one, I have no idea at all how she & her hub-unit met. None. Nada. Zip. Zilcho. Nope. Not so much as an iota of a clue. And now, I'm banned!
Talk about an abuse of power! Actually, I can sort of see it. I have relatively easy access to Batman and Wendy, so I could probably find out.
Anyway, Queenie, I'm actually pleased! I've been banned from stores, restaurants, a bar or two, even a school. I have never been banned from commenting on a blog before. Yay! A first for me! So it's sick and twisted, but I have this whole rebellion thing going on right now. You know, like a second adolescence.
Yippee! Banned -- again!
Penguins from Mary Poppins
Image by Disney
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Sawyer, Charlie, & Hurley
Okay, so I am the proud, drooling owner of the Lost first season on DVD. The bonus features are so-so, not quite as good as I had hoped. At any rate, one of the features is a tribute/salute thing for the show from the Museum of Television and Radio. Most of the cast was there. One lady in the audience thanked Josh (Sawyer) for the kiss with Kate. Oh yeah! I heartily agree! Mmmmm good. That man's dimple give me such a shiver. Yup. Crackers in my bed? Any time. Hell, bring the wife...I don't mind. However, there's also Charlie. Yeah yeah, so he's hooked up with the pregnant chick. Not in real life. At least, I don't think so. He's got that trashy, not-so-trustworthy kind of look, and the accent? Oh my god! Talk about melting butter! And his oh so blue eyes! Man oh man. C'mon over, Charlie...er, Dominic....bring Sawyer with you! Then there's Hurley. Hurley may not be tops in the looks department, but he is pretty cool. He's creative, he's hilarious, and has a number of the same weaknesses I do. Plus, he seems genuinely concerned for others. Aside from the fact he seems to be slowly losing his mind (I'm way ahead on that one), he's almost perfect. I won't talk about the others. Not that Sayid, Jack, Michael, Jin, and Locke don't have intriguing qualities. They do. I even find some of them mildly attractive (I won't say who), but on the whole, I'd have to say I gravitate much more towards Charlie, Sawyer, and Hurley. Oh and Boone! Too bad they killed him off. He's pretty cute too. A bit skittish in some ways and too controlling in others, but any man that gets the look on his face he did when his stepsister nibbled/sucked/whatever on his ear gets bonus points from me. Makes it easier to get in their pants.
Okay, I admit it, I'm slutty. Can't help it. Besides, aside from all these guys being fictional characters on a tv show, they're also actors...the day any of them knocks on my door will be the day the world ends. But a woman can dream can't she? And slutty, trashy, sex-crazed dreams happen to be my specialty.
Besides, if any of the above do ever show up on my doorstep, it'll make for one helluva blog!
Okay, I admit it, I'm slutty. Can't help it. Besides, aside from all these guys being fictional characters on a tv show, they're also actors...the day any of them knocks on my door will be the day the world ends. But a woman can dream can't she? And slutty, trashy, sex-crazed dreams happen to be my specialty.
Besides, if any of the above do ever show up on my doorstep, it'll make for one helluva blog!
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Clowns, Buzzard Pus, and Relative Nicknames
Two cannibals are eating a clown. One stops, looks at the other, and asks, "Does this taste funny to you?"
Terrible joke, but my mother has made a running gag out of it this past week. First, she calls and tells the kids this joke. Next day, she calls and asks each of them if they've eaten any clowns and if they tasted funny. Finally, last night, I call her to check in and make sure she's made it through two days' worth of twelve hours shifts at work. She's waaaay tired, folks. I figured she would be. I was proved right when I asked her what she was munching into my ear and she told me "clown". So she was off and running again. Later in our conversation, she apparently farts (thank god this was over the phone! her gas could kill an elephant) and says, "Excuse me! Clown's giving me gas." My kids can hear me laughing and want to know who I'm talking to. So I explain it to them, along with the aside that when Gramma gets tired, she likes to share stupid jokes and in fact used to wake me up to tell me elephant jokes after working too many midnight shifts. Of course, she hears this and then wants me to relay elephant jokes to them. Fine. Flash to this morning. I'm on the phone with Grasshopper who is teaching her four month old baby to call me "Aunt Frigid" by the way, when my mom beeps in. I don't even get 'hello' or 'good morning'. I get "This clown's backing up on me." Which is a stolen and altered line from Tim Conway and Don Knotts' movie The Detectives where Conway says, "Buzzard pus's backing up on me." Good grief! I share the story with Grasshopper, who tells me to tell Mom to try acrobats next time as they have less fat and cholesterol. I swear to god, I am surrounded by insane people. Which is okay. It's nice to be among similar-thinking minds.
Terrible joke, but my mother has made a running gag out of it this past week. First, she calls and tells the kids this joke. Next day, she calls and asks each of them if they've eaten any clowns and if they tasted funny. Finally, last night, I call her to check in and make sure she's made it through two days' worth of twelve hours shifts at work. She's waaaay tired, folks. I figured she would be. I was proved right when I asked her what she was munching into my ear and she told me "clown". So she was off and running again. Later in our conversation, she apparently farts (thank god this was over the phone! her gas could kill an elephant) and says, "Excuse me! Clown's giving me gas." My kids can hear me laughing and want to know who I'm talking to. So I explain it to them, along with the aside that when Gramma gets tired, she likes to share stupid jokes and in fact used to wake me up to tell me elephant jokes after working too many midnight shifts. Of course, she hears this and then wants me to relay elephant jokes to them. Fine. Flash to this morning. I'm on the phone with Grasshopper who is teaching her four month old baby to call me "Aunt Frigid" by the way, when my mom beeps in. I don't even get 'hello' or 'good morning'. I get "This clown's backing up on me." Which is a stolen and altered line from Tim Conway and Don Knotts' movie The Detectives where Conway says, "Buzzard pus's backing up on me." Good grief! I share the story with Grasshopper, who tells me to tell Mom to try acrobats next time as they have less fat and cholesterol. I swear to god, I am surrounded by insane people. Which is okay. It's nice to be among similar-thinking minds.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Counting My Blessings...One..ack!...Two...ack!
So, Tuesday, my eldest child decides to skip school for half the day. Not good, but not completely evil. (Been there, done that). He gets caught, he gets grounded, there is much discussion. Fine. Then on Wednesday, he decides to skip the whole day and to pack enough stuff to be gone for at least three days. Not so good. I knew just from how he'd acted the night before that he would...just no idea how to prove it in advance much less stop him. At any rate, on advice from my mother, I went to the local law enforcement and listed him missing as a runaway. Then began the long day of worry, driving, and being nasty to his friends who happened to not be in school. Also talking for hours on my cell phone to Grasshopper and my Mom.
He didn't get far. He did manage to stay out of sight until nearly 2:30 in the afternoon, however. He got popped because of his pants. That's right, his pants. I gave a fairly decent description of him to the nice officer, including these weird pants the boys are fascinated with. In this one's case, black with this glow-under-a-black-light green stitching in it with all these bizarrely located pockets and these straps that attach at various places along the sides or front and back...usually with the straps going between the legs...thank goddess they are long straps or he'd be a eunich. The other boy's came with handcuffs that hang from chains. Four pair to be exact. I don't understand, but my mom didn't understand my clothing choices either. But, yes, these pants happened to catch the officer's eye as he drove past him. So he hollered at him and my son actually answered him. That's all it took, he got a ride to the police station. Thank god! I have never been so scared, so worried, so angry, or so lost in my entire life. Not even when they told me that he may have leukemia when he was 5. He didn't, another blessing, but even that didn't scare me so much. At least with that, there was a chance he didn't and he was with me. I could do things to help him. When he just up and disappears? Oh god, I hope no one ever has to go through that. And I was lucky. He didn't get far and he came home. He's still here. He wouldn't let me hug him and I was too thankful to strangle him. Too many parents out there don't get that opportunity (to hug or to suppress the urge to strangle): too many kids don't come home...ever. I have been given a great gift...again. And I'm so grateful I did.
He didn't get far. He did manage to stay out of sight until nearly 2:30 in the afternoon, however. He got popped because of his pants. That's right, his pants. I gave a fairly decent description of him to the nice officer, including these weird pants the boys are fascinated with. In this one's case, black with this glow-under-a-black-light green stitching in it with all these bizarrely located pockets and these straps that attach at various places along the sides or front and back...usually with the straps going between the legs...thank goddess they are long straps or he'd be a eunich. The other boy's came with handcuffs that hang from chains. Four pair to be exact. I don't understand, but my mom didn't understand my clothing choices either. But, yes, these pants happened to catch the officer's eye as he drove past him. So he hollered at him and my son actually answered him. That's all it took, he got a ride to the police station. Thank god! I have never been so scared, so worried, so angry, or so lost in my entire life. Not even when they told me that he may have leukemia when he was 5. He didn't, another blessing, but even that didn't scare me so much. At least with that, there was a chance he didn't and he was with me. I could do things to help him. When he just up and disappears? Oh god, I hope no one ever has to go through that. And I was lucky. He didn't get far and he came home. He's still here. He wouldn't let me hug him and I was too thankful to strangle him. Too many parents out there don't get that opportunity (to hug or to suppress the urge to strangle): too many kids don't come home...ever. I have been given a great gift...again. And I'm so grateful I did.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Fish
Dudley Moore's character, Arthur, once discussed fish with his butler. He made the comment that 'fish all bathe together. Of course, they also have the tendency to eat one another. Do you think fish ever get tired of eating seafood?'. Which, to me, is extremely funny. It has also led me to wonder about a few other fishy topics.
Fish swim in their own waste. At least in tanks and so on. Those filters can't take care of it all, right? Hence the need to clean the tank every so often. Here's my ponder: people who swim in their own waste tend to become ill. Violently so, in fact. So, are fish naturally immune to their own wastes? Does fish waste not contain bacteria? If it does, is it bad for fish only or would we humans be poisoned also? And, when humans become ill, we get things like hives, diarrhea, and vomiting. I have never seen a fish with hives. I've never seen a fish with the shits. Nor have I ever seen one puke. However, I've never seen an owl puke either, but my community college science professor had us dissecting owl pellets, which he assured us were actually a form of owl vomit, so I'm fairly sure they do it. That being the case, isn't it reasonable to assume that some, maybe not all, fish vomit. Maybe the reason I've never seen one do it is because I've only seen fish in tanks. With all that glass around, even with plants and little sunken ships to hide in, maybe they are too embarrassed to vomit in public.
Just pondering.
Fish swim in their own waste. At least in tanks and so on. Those filters can't take care of it all, right? Hence the need to clean the tank every so often. Here's my ponder: people who swim in their own waste tend to become ill. Violently so, in fact. So, are fish naturally immune to their own wastes? Does fish waste not contain bacteria? If it does, is it bad for fish only or would we humans be poisoned also? And, when humans become ill, we get things like hives, diarrhea, and vomiting. I have never seen a fish with hives. I've never seen a fish with the shits. Nor have I ever seen one puke. However, I've never seen an owl puke either, but my community college science professor had us dissecting owl pellets, which he assured us were actually a form of owl vomit, so I'm fairly sure they do it. That being the case, isn't it reasonable to assume that some, maybe not all, fish vomit. Maybe the reason I've never seen one do it is because I've only seen fish in tanks. With all that glass around, even with plants and little sunken ships to hide in, maybe they are too embarrassed to vomit in public.
Just pondering.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Phones, Modems, Hair, & Fairies
So, last Sunday, some moron cut through a phone cable and my phone was out for three damn days. We also had some storms roll through that day, which fried my modem. Which fucked up my internet access for another day. I was not a happy camper.
However, it was one of those slap-my-forehead-and-go-well-duh moments when I replaced my modem (all by my lonesome I might add). I spent 10 minutes trying to pry the cover off my computer and failing, when I finally noticed a smallsih button on the front with an even smallisher diagram above it showing that this button, when pushed, would cause the side part of the the cover to open up. Duh. So, 3 minutes later, the modem is installed and fifteen minutes after that, I can dial up to the net. Hooray for me! Thank god, too, because one of my teachers has us emailing weekly reading journals that if we do not do, we do not pass. And with gas prices, driving into town just to email two or three paragraphs to a short, but oh so hot, lit instructor is not an option if I want to continue to feed and clothe my family.
As for life, it goes on. Steadily and boringly on. So, I decided to shake things up and went and dyed my daughter's hair pink. Yep. She is 8 and has several hot pink streaks in her hair. She and I love it. My mother just bit her tongue. So has her school, which would have eliminated some of the boredom if they hadn't, but oh well. As if that wasn't enough, I decided to go out and get a workstudy job so I have even less time to complete assignments in. Oh and I cut off my hair. It's just about shoulder length now and I lacked about an inch and a half of being long enough to donate to Locks of Love. Knew I should have waited. Too late now.
We also went to the Iowa Renaissance Faire last Saturday. It was pretty good. My daughter with her pink hair and little tiara she insisted on wearing, got her lots of attention from the hordes of fairies that had invaded the place. And every few minutes, we had to clap until our hands hurt because the poor things kept falling down dead. We also got to see one 'turn' a beastly, black (read bad) knight into a...gasp...politician! LOL. I also spent a ton of money on a child sized belly dancer costume, three swords for the teenaged boys, homemade root beer, one walking staff, four hair stick type things, and a bunch of rocks. My middle child also had me arrested. He paid $2 to have me arrested. They put me in a cage after relieving me of my weapons, and prepared to have me publicly humilated. However, being the adult, I had the $5 bail which I paid promptly, along with $2 more to have him arrested. See, he had me arrested on false charges. He told them I stole the sword. I had him head dunked for his crimes. Next year, I have promised the children we will attend the Minnesota Ren. Festival and the Iowa one in garb. Meaning I now have to either learn to sew and get a sewing machine or spend all kinds of money to make said garb by then. Personally, I want to participate in the ice-popping event. I think shooting ice into a cup using my breasts (from several feet away) sounds like a blast...for about two shots. After that, I'm heading for the ale tent.
However, it was one of those slap-my-forehead-and-go-well-duh moments when I replaced my modem (all by my lonesome I might add). I spent 10 minutes trying to pry the cover off my computer and failing, when I finally noticed a smallsih button on the front with an even smallisher diagram above it showing that this button, when pushed, would cause the side part of the the cover to open up. Duh. So, 3 minutes later, the modem is installed and fifteen minutes after that, I can dial up to the net. Hooray for me! Thank god, too, because one of my teachers has us emailing weekly reading journals that if we do not do, we do not pass. And with gas prices, driving into town just to email two or three paragraphs to a short, but oh so hot, lit instructor is not an option if I want to continue to feed and clothe my family.
As for life, it goes on. Steadily and boringly on. So, I decided to shake things up and went and dyed my daughter's hair pink. Yep. She is 8 and has several hot pink streaks in her hair. She and I love it. My mother just bit her tongue. So has her school, which would have eliminated some of the boredom if they hadn't, but oh well. As if that wasn't enough, I decided to go out and get a workstudy job so I have even less time to complete assignments in. Oh and I cut off my hair. It's just about shoulder length now and I lacked about an inch and a half of being long enough to donate to Locks of Love. Knew I should have waited. Too late now.
We also went to the Iowa Renaissance Faire last Saturday. It was pretty good. My daughter with her pink hair and little tiara she insisted on wearing, got her lots of attention from the hordes of fairies that had invaded the place. And every few minutes, we had to clap until our hands hurt because the poor things kept falling down dead. We also got to see one 'turn' a beastly, black (read bad) knight into a...gasp...politician! LOL. I also spent a ton of money on a child sized belly dancer costume, three swords for the teenaged boys, homemade root beer, one walking staff, four hair stick type things, and a bunch of rocks. My middle child also had me arrested. He paid $2 to have me arrested. They put me in a cage after relieving me of my weapons, and prepared to have me publicly humilated. However, being the adult, I had the $5 bail which I paid promptly, along with $2 more to have him arrested. See, he had me arrested on false charges. He told them I stole the sword. I had him head dunked for his crimes. Next year, I have promised the children we will attend the Minnesota Ren. Festival and the Iowa one in garb. Meaning I now have to either learn to sew and get a sewing machine or spend all kinds of money to make said garb by then. Personally, I want to participate in the ice-popping event. I think shooting ice into a cup using my breasts (from several feet away) sounds like a blast...for about two shots. After that, I'm heading for the ale tent.
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