Big Butts Get Stuck…

I started to title this….”Big Butt…Be Gone (before someone drops a house on you and you get stuck under it).

I’ve had a hard time keeping weight off my entire life! I’ve lost and gained at least 3 people since my teenage years. Now, I’m proud to report that I have lost 30 POUNDS!!!! Yay, me! I can remember at least three incidences that motivated me to lose weight. Well, actually 4…but the first one doesn’t really count because it made me angry more than motivated. The first time was when I was in the 7th grade. My best friend had a younger brother who was a pretty nice boy. No,I didn’t “like” him so it wasn’t a crush thing. He actually reminded me of that cartoon donkey on Hee-Haw….long face and big teeth.

I never told him that but one day, he had the balls to tell me that I had a pretty face and it was too bad that I was fat! I think that it didn’t motivate me because it was like the Hee-Haw jackass was pictured in my head and talking to me.

The second time, I had a huge crush on a boy in high school. I had stalked this guy all over the high school….in ninja mode, of course. It was one of those “w”ong side of the tracks” stories….with me being the wrong side . I was the poor white trash girl who hung with the bad crowd and he was the semi-wealthy and classy popular jock. And, he asked me out to the movies. I was walking on cloud nine!!!! Kinda sounds like a Molly Ringwald movie, huh? It would have been titled something like “Pudgy in Pink” instead of “Pretty in Pink”. At the time, I worked at a Tastee Freeze (which might have explained some of the weight gain) and he stopped by almost everyday. One day, my co-workers and I were bored and goofing around doing silly stuff. Like making banana splits with no bananas just to see if anybody would notice. Nobody did! Then, I got this “bright” idea that I was going to squeeze thru the little square take-out window. I was about halfway thru….head and shoulders sticking out of the window. But, then I couldn’t get my hips through!!! I was STUCK halfway out/in the window when, but, of course, my crush pulled up! I’m pretty good at quick thinking…but it’s not always good ideas. I just nonchalantly acted as if it was perfectly normal that I had my big butt stuck in a small square window and chatted with him as if everything was perfectly cool. Finally, he asked me why was I hanging out the window and I said it was because of a bet that I could stay that way and serve customers their ice cream for an hour. Thank goodness, he finally left and I could begin the procedure of inching my way back in the building! I knew that I had to lose weight! And I did….25 lbs!

Over the years, it came back. The second time that I knew that I had to do a big-butt-go-away was when I got wedged under my bed. I have a Paul Bunyon style bed that is really high up but very low to the floor. I spotted a missing shoe under it and flattened myself out enough to schooch under the bed. Feeling victorious with missing shoe in hand, I started inching back out….only to discover that, once again, I was STUCK! No one was home and panic began to set in. I began to pray!!!!! No one was due home for another 3-4 hours. I couldn’t imagine staying under that bed with all those dust bunnies irritating my nose and eyes. I knew that I had to come up with some rational way to get out. So, I exhaled all of my breath, flattened myself as much as possible to the floor and very slowly inch by inch backed out….covered in dust..and some aching shoulders and hips.  Yep…time to lose weight again! And, once again, I did. Lost about 20-30 lbs. I vowed to never get that overweight again…but of course, I did.

This, the third (and hopefully final) time, I realized that my current hobby of sitting on the couch watching TV and eating Little Debbie Cakes was making me tired and sick. I had, also, discovered that my “emergency fat” wardrobe was getting quite snug. Hanging out in loose pjs all day worked for that….unless I had to go out! I knew that I was letting my life get sucked away by my big butt being stuck in the couch. Plus, I needed to be able to keep up with my extremely active grandson, Ian (who was about 3 or so at the time) and both of my active daughters, Meg and Annie. They eat very healthy and get lots of exercise. I love hanging with my daughters. However, sometimes, being with them is hanging out with exercise queen, Jillian Michaels…

Seriously, my daughters will not go on a vacation and stay anywhere that doesn’t have a work-out room.  But, I knew that if I didn’t get into shape, I would be sitting in the corner while they had fun and begged me to join them. I want to live my life as God intended…to the fullest! I tried different plans for exercising but would soon give up. I figured that if I was going to get the physical activity that I desperately needed,it would have to be something that I enjoyed doing and could do even in bad weather. So, I began to DANCE! I take 30 minutes everyday, turn on some good music and dance all over my house. Plus, I’ll stop doing whatever I’m doing at the time if a good dance song comes on the radio. I DANCE AND DANCE AND DANCE! Plus, thru Trailerpark Skipper, I’ve learned so much about nutrition and healthy eating. So, no big well-known diet plans…no magic pill…no clubs! Just determination. This time, I’m keeping it off. I have to since I live in the Boogerwoods! Nobody would find me here if I got stuck!

Now….I’m gonna go DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!

OMT…This has, also, helped with my depression so much!!!!!!

Am I Damned for Laughing?

Hi y’all! Haven’t been here for a long time. I’ve had lots to write about but just couldn’t get my  lazy ass motivated. It was a really tough winter….the most serious depression that I’ve ever had. It took every ounce of energy that I possessed to get out of bed somedays. And, putting on that “normal” face was a serious struggle. Most days, this was the best that I could do…..

So, I had to head back to the doctor with my tail tucked between my legs to get some Paxil. I had sworn that I would never take another psych drug because I was sick of the pharma companies putting poison out to innocent people. I’m tired of taking a drug only to find out a few years later that it’s gonna make my hair/teeth/bones/skin/liver/heart either fall off/fail/fall out/enlarge/shrink, etc. But, I had to eat my words with gritted teeth. I, also, MADE myself start exercising everyday   regularyly several times a week. So, I am feeling more like my old redneck hyper self again. YEAH!

Other things have happened that are not so great. My sister (who is a very heavy smoker) started having breathing problems about 2 yrs ago. She was diagnosed with COPD and emphysema.  She was put on breathing treatments several times a day. And, bless her little heart, she really did try many times to quit smoking.  But,Phillip Morris had her totally by the balls boobs and she just couldn’t kick ‘em. I mean this poor woman smoked so much that if they hadn’t ended the Marlboro points program, she would have been able to furnish her whole house, send her grandkids to college, get a new car, and go on a vacation just using  points.Personally, I think it would have been mighty handy if Marlboro offered an iron lung for points.

(Sadly, she is seriously starting to resemble this woman).

She spent the last year watching soap operas and alternately taking hits off of her nebulizer and her inhalers……with breaks for ciggies in between. Plus, she was put on steroids and gained about 25 pounds. Well, it’s probably fair to say that The Young and Restless, also, contributed to the extra pounds. Well, two weeks ago, I got a call from her fiance’ telling me that she was in Roanoke Memorial hospital and in not so good a condition. She was on a ventilator to breathe! I rushed off to Roanoke to see her. She had H1N1 virus plus pneumonia. It did not look promising. The doctors said they had done all they could do and the family needed to make a decision about what to do when they took her off of the ventilator. The respiratory therapist said that she did not expect her to be able to breathe on her own. So, it was up to her sons to decide what action they wanted taken on her behalf. At this time, she was not awake and could not tell anyone what she wanted done. However, she had signed a DNR order when admitted to the hospital.

My two nephews disagree about everything. They argue about how to raise their kids, religion, politics….everything.  But, I didn’t really think that they would butt heads over how to proceed with their Mom’s treatment…but they did. Both are church-going, family men who believe in God. The younger one, though, is somewhat of a religious zealot. The older one wanted measures taken to prolong his Mom’s life even after being removed from the ventilator. The younger one thought that his Mom wouldn’t want to live hooked up to anything and if it was time for her to go…well, it was time for her to go. They spent quite a bit of time in the waiting area arguing their cases to each other. I got tired of it and said that I was going back to see if she was awake and if she was, I would explain everything to her so she could make her own decision. I went back and she was awake. I sat down beside her and told her what the doctor had said about removing the vent and how she might not be able to breathe without it. I told her that the doctor could take other measures for her to breathe. Then, I told her to think about it and make up her own mind. Then I went back to the waiting area and explained to everyone what I had told her. Still, the younger one wouldn’t give up and insisted that she would not want to live relying on machines. Tensions were very high.

The next morning, after all family members had arrived, the doctors declared that it was time to remove the vent. And, they did. Miraculously, they removed the vent, put an oxygen mask on her and she was fine. She even tried to talk although her words came out in a whisper due to the vent tube being in her throat for so long. We were all extremely relieved and happy. Since only 3 people were allowed to be in the room, I went back to the waiting area.

Shortly, my nephews came out and….this is where it gets funny (to me)……

the younger one went downstairs to get some coffee. I had noticed that the older one was barely able to contain himself from laughter. I asked him what had happened and when he told me, I doubled over laughing. I didn’t know this, but after I had left the CCU room, my nephew’s wives had gone in to see my sister. The younger son’s wife decided that they should say a prayer. Her husband,( who actually does very loud street preaching..that’s a story for another day), decided to do the praying. The older son told me that he fully expected his brother to give a prayer of thanks for my sister being able to breathe without the ventilator. But, instead, he was surprised by his brother praying the following….

(this might not be the exact words but you’ll get the idea)….

“Father God, if it’s time to take my Mother home, please do it painlessly. If it’s her time to go to the other side, let us be strong enough to let her go. She has lived a good life and we will miss her. But, we don’t need her hanging on just for us. So, if it’s your will, then take her home to be with my daddy in Heaven now.”

Apprently, he was neglecting the fact that his Mom was awake and listening to him pray. And, his prayer sounded like he wanted her to go Home To Be With Jesus and his daddy! She opened her eyes really big and begin trying to mouth something.  My older nephew said that he bent down to see what she was saying. It was, “Stop! I’m awake. Don’t tell God to kill me now! Quit telling Him to take me to the light!”

I’m sitting her chuckling right now thinking about her eyes opened really wide after several days of being unconsious and unable to hear anyone. Then, some of the first words that she hears is a prayer wanting her to go to the light.

 

Now, my nephew and I refer to her as “Carol Ann”…from the movie, Poltergist.

Gotta love my family! Just hope someone else prays if I’m ever in that situation.

I’m happy to report that she is recovery nicely…..both from the sickness and the prayer. When I was there this past Sunday, she asked her doctor if she could have a Dr. Pepper and a Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pie….good redneck stuff!

 

 

Why I Take A Book To The Doctor’s Office…

 

“note….I posted this at my other blog….Bipolar Chicks Blogging. I don’t like reposting from one blog to the other but wanted to share this with some of you. I didn’t post the whole thing here. But, I put the link to the other blog in if you liked to read the whole thing” TPB

 

A visit to a doctor’s office is always a good way to observe people and learn.

I had an appt. on Thursday at 1:30. This is a regular good ol’ GP who sees anybody for anything. My Phys. Assist. at my old pdoc’s office got me in with her. She’s very popular. Proof of that is the 1 1/2 hours that I had to sit in the waiting room.

Usually, I take a book along to read but this day, I forgot it on the kitchen table. Not in the mood for conversation, I sat and listened to other people talk. Soon, I found myself jumping in on the talk.

One guy told a really sad story about how his wife got hooked on prescription meds when his young son had died. A pdoc prescribed her several different emotion-numbing meds to get her through her grief. Soon, he said that she had become addicted. She would go through her month’s supply and than hit the streets to buy more. Poor guy said that he had lost his home, his car, and all of his savings to the insatiable appetite that she had for the drugs. He said that she weighed 140 lbs when their son died and was now down to 79 pounds. He had sought treatment for her from several venues but so far, had no luck in helping her kick the monkey on her back. So sad…….

One lady told a story about a local pdoc who is known in this area for his generosity in prescribing drugs. He and 3  other staff members at his office would see around 150 patients a day. That’s around 40 each.  Forty patients in eight hours….you do the math. Spending just enough time with each patient to “treat ‘em and street ‘em”…..handing out prescriptions like  Halloween candy. She said that as soon as you left his office, you’d be approach by people in the parking lot saying, “What did they give you? Do you want to trade it for what I have? Or, do you want to sell it?” Crying shame….pdoc parking lot transformed into a drug dealer’s paradise.

After the few people that I was talking to got called back into the doc’s office, I was sitting there reading the signs on the walls. You know….how to tell if a mole is cancerous, why it’s better to breast feed your baby, the importance of exercise in seeking wellness, etc.

Suddenly, I heard a garbled voice say, “Hey, you know anybody who wants to spend time with me?” The voice was coming from over my shoulder and I turned to see who was being addressed. It was me that the lady was talking to. Now, don’t get your panties in a wad and call me insensitive or politically incorrect…but….the lady had one of the illnesses/diseases that makes one talk in a halting manner and like you have your mouth full of marbles or something. I am not poking fun at her. I just want you to get the picture. 

“on my soap box”

I hesitate to use the word “retarded” because I know I’ll get somebody on their high horse giving me a lecture about using the word. Just like the word “midget”. We are no longer allowed to use that word. What’s wrong with using words that describe somebody? It’s stupid to have to think of a whole prhase to describe something when one word gives you the exact picture. I turned around and looked over the half-wall separating the waiting room into two halves. There was a dark haired lady wearing glasses peering over the wall at me.

“steps off soapbox”

“Excuse me?” I said.

Now remember, she was very hard to understand.

“Do you know anybody who wants a job driving me around? It would be on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.  It pays $7.40 an hour.But, not Wednesday.”

This came out soundling like “Dyou know eeny buddy wants a job dwiving me awound. It would be on Money, Toosedee, Fursday, and Fwyday. But, no Wensdee”.

I stilled wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. As I said, she was hard to understand and what I am typing that she said is my best guess. Also, I got the impression that she thought seven dollars and forty cents was really high pay for driving her around.

As politely as I could, I said, “No, I do not know of anyone.” And, went back to reading about the results of chewing tobacco over a life time. There were some really ugly pictures in the brochure. I was fascinated by a picture of a young guy with half of his face gone as a result of smokeless tobacco aka dip, snuff when I heard this…..

“You’d need a dwirvers license, insurwance, no smoking, no swinking, and a back-up check”.

A BACK-UP CHECK???? WTF is a …..oh….then, it hit me that she meant a “background……

Read rest of the story at  BipolarChicksBlogging.

Not My Usual “Insert Word” Self Today….

I feel like a big pile of cold dog shit today.

It’s my anniversary. Nobody remembered. Not even TPKen, but then if he did, they’d have to bring in the electric paddle thingys to bring me back to life. He hasn’t remembered in a long time.

I’m at a crossroads in my life. I need CHANGE! I’ve really had enough of living in this unfinished house in the boogerwoods. No neighbors. Of course, that is a plus sometimes. I’m thinking of getting an apartment and just visiting here once a week. 

Like I said. I’m in a sucky mood.

I tried to do a poll with polldaddy. I made the poll but couldn’t figure out how to get it in this post. Yeah, once again, I suck today.

So, here’s the poll and the answers. Choose one.

a. funny, creative

b. sarcastic, mean

c.caring, kind

d.biker chick/hooker

e. a word or two of your choosing

After, you decide which one, reply and tell me.

Then, tell me the funniest joke that you’ve ever heard, Or, tell me a big fat secret of your own. I could stand to hear some  trashing of somebody or something, too.

This is YOUR CHANCE to help out a down-in-the-dumps-feeling-useless-sorry-for-myself  redenck, white trash blogger (who doesn’t feel like blogging about a damn thing today. Who knows…you might inspire me!)

I’ll be sitting here waiting. Probably having a drinky-poo or six while I wait.

I’ll Plead Insanity…..

This is a post that I wrote in a forum a while back. I do not write  there any longer and am moving some posts to this blog.

Also, I’m having a problem with my keyboard. If te letters h,u,t,i,g,n, l or b are left out of a word, fil tem in for yourself. I tried to correct tem al but fially gave up.

. You can’t see me!!!!!

 

The last 48 hours have been pure hell. Insomnia not only rearing it’s ugly head…..I think it’s about to eat me alive. Nerves feeliglike rubber bands being stretched to the break point. My whole body system seems to be singing a song called, “Kill me now and get this show on the road.” LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of stress, which is aggravating my fybro and arthritis. I’ve take an insane amount of Motrin, Alleve, and Tylenol. Probably have major stomach rot by now.(Or, is that my belly button that I smell?……DOES YOUR BELLY BUTTON STINK? HeeHee…can’t pass up a chance to pimp another post. Actually, the 2nd most read post since I started my blog. Some of the comments are unbelievable).

TrailerparkKen has not been feeling well for some time. But, he refuses to go see a doctor. Why are men like that? Women, on the other hand, will go to find out what is wrong.. And, eventhough, I biotch about him a LOT in my blog, I am still concerned about his well-beig.. His blood pressure is 230/139….stroke area. I could not get him to go to the doc last night. He went today but his doctor was not there so he just turned around and came home. He refused to see the phys. assistant. One of the corners of his eye is blood red.
Now, keep in mind, we live out in the booger woods. If something should happen, it would take 911 the better part of a week to find us.

So, strung out like a junkie in withdrawal, I stayed awake last night almost all night. At 3 oclock this morning, I saw a car headlights in my driveway. The driveway is severalhundred feet long. Probably more than that. I’m not good at measurements. Never have been since I found out that there is a major discrecpacy between what a man consider 6 inches to me and what a woman KNOWS six inches is.  Anyway the car pulls up pretty close to the house with the headlights glaring into my dark/lights off  kitchen.
My first instinct is to go wake TPKen. But, then common sense took over and I realized that a sudden, abrupt awakening might cause something bad to happen to him. So, I realize that I’m on my own and it’s up to me to guard “my castle”.

 I crept up to the window and took a hiding place behind a ficus tree. I watch for a few minutes trying to figure out who  has coming calling at 3 in the morning. My mind is racing…..”fight or flee” reactions kicks in. I run into the bedroom to get the gun only to discover that TPK has removed the smaller Lady Smith and Wesson that I usually keep handy. It’s a very nice size 38 with “girly designs” and pearl inlay on the handle. Cute but deadly. In it’s place, he has laid his humongous handgun that has a 12 inch barrell. It’s a speical edition and it’s shell cost 5 bucks each. That gun is so heavy that an old west gunslinger would look like the Hunchback of NotreDame is he had it in his belt holster. This gun caused quite an argument between myself and TPKwhen he purchased it. I mean….why would you need a gun so heavy that you’d almost have to prop it up on a stool to even fire it. That is one damn heavy piece of metal and it was hard for me to even try to aim it. Well, at least he finally came to his senses about the $7,000 armour piercing monster gun that he had planned to buy. I think he realized that a judge would findthat grounds for D-I-V-O-R-C-E even in this gun crazy, redneck state.

S0, after pausing for just a sec, I know that if I’m gonna need a weapon, it’s gonna have to be that big-ass gun that was laying where my pretty, little S&W should have been.

Here I was….taking cover behind a fake fiscs tree and using all my arm and shoulder strength to hold that gigantic gun. I’m  begining to have serious doubts whether I can even aim and shoot it in the right direction. But, being a big, ol redneck woman (and proud member of the NRA), I knew that I had to do what I had to do. So, keeping the lights off so as not to be an easy target for the gangsta outside), stumbled up the hall and found the phone…..ready to call 911 if necessary.

I took my position behind the ficus again and started watching. The car had not moved. I was sitting in the same spot. So, I started watching again to see if anybody got out. The headlights were still on and the motor was running. I decided to creep across to the front door and peep out. My front door is one of those with frosted glass that has a few clear “peepholes”. When I got in my ready to stop, drop and shoot position there, I looked out and saw that the car and turned around and was heading out. I caught myself breathing a big sigh of relief.

 BUT, then the car stopped at the end of the driveway. So, I caught myself totally tensing up again. A few minutes later it drove off. This morning, TPK went out to get the newspaper. Turns out that it was the newspaper man (at 3 in the  morning) pullig up our paper box and moving it out to the end of the road……which totally enraged TPK. They have been feuding about the location of the paper box for a few days now.

What bothers me is that I have been so edgy and ready to fight, that I could have honestly shot the paper guy. But for the grace of God, I am here writing this tonight instead of in the “big house”.

When I start getting really stressed, I start getting really angry. I find myself looking for a fight from just about anyone over anything. This is one of the most dangerous phases of my BP. Out of medicine and not have a pdoc appt for 9 weeks I decided that I had to do something PDQ. Andwith tail tucked between my legs, I visited a local “Express Care” office right now the road from me. I was straight up and frank with the doc. I told her that I was at the breaking point and needed help and need it immediately. I told her that if she refused to prescribe me something for pain, stress, andsleep, that I was going to go find some street drugs. And I was damn dead serious.  And, I began to cry.

The last time that I got to a breaking point like this, it triggered one of the worst manic periods that I had in years. ple. This was the manic period when I came to a dead stop in the middle of the road because a two-toothed, shot gun racked, 4X 4 four wheel truck driving redneck was following me too close. I threated to kick his ass…..all 5’2″ of me up against his 6′plus frame. Could have gotten into some serious shit there until HE actually back down. Must have been smart enough underneath that skullet to know that he was dealing with a  deranged woman.

 I was slightly apprehensive that she would just think that I was a doctor shopper for drugs. But, she turned out to be very sympathetic. I got some arthritis med, some Xanax, and 12 Ambien. So, right now, I am in a thankfully pleasantly sedated

The bad part about that is that I have been trying to wean myself off all psych drugs for a few months now. This is a major setback to that. But, at least I won’t be in the pokey trading ciggies for half eaten balogna sandwiches with a skullet-wearig butch named Teensey

 So….at this point in time, I’ll feed the sweet, siren song of the drugs. Otherwise, I might have to hone a insanity defense, which would probaly be totally true.

****This post was originally written about 3 yrs ago. No big emotional flare-ups since. Only bouts of depression ranging from mild to almost “ready to go see Mama”.

What Would Capt. America Do?

(Nobody Knows The Troubles I’ve Seen) 

Lately, life is…

depressing

dark

disturbing

scary

unpredictable

and, downright not enjoyable.

I read something a while back that said that you should do at least one thing everyday that brings you some joy. Lately, it’s been really hard to follow that advise. Unless, you can count giving the finger to somebody who cut you off while you were in a funeral procession. And, that was not really joy….more like stress relief.

I went off all antidepressants and the like in early spring. It was against doctor’s orders. What do they know about my emotions? Nada…that’s what.  My thought was that the summer sun would do the trick and perk me up. But, we haven’t had much sun around here for at least a month. It has rained almost every day with a few very short breaks of sunshine. Just enough sunshine to tease ya into thinking that everything will be just hunky-monkey-dorey with life.

Yes, DR (dear readersreader), I know that I am suppose to be humorous. But, dammit, it’s getting harder and harder to be funny. There is nothing to laugh about lately. O-He-Can-Walk-On-Water-Then-Turn-It-Into-Wine-bama is scaring the bejeesus out of me with all of his gov. take-overs and mandates. He wants to tell us what cars to drive, what we can eat, drink, smoke, etc. Next week will probably bring new rules and regulations about what we can wear. That might not be so bad. He could tell all of the people who insist on showing us their buttcracks to pull their pants up.

I see a “bad moon arisin’. I’m just full of dark lyrics lately.

CCR…Bad Moon Arising

I see the bad moon arising.
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightnin.
I see bad times today.

Dont go around tonight,
Well, its bound to take your life,
Theres a bad moon on the rise. 

I hear hurricanes ablowing.
I know the end is coming soon.
I fear rivers over flowing.
I hear the voice of rage and ruin.

Hope you got your things together.
Hope you are quite prepared to die.
Looks like were in for nasty weather.
One eye is taken for an eye.

I’m just a regular ton-o-fun today!

WWCA do? Capt. America…..flag-painted Harley. Cool dude. Peter Fonda in Easy Rider. 

I was pretty young when this film came out. But, being privileged to hang around with the first real “hippie” crowd in my small town, I was  ahead of other kids my age when it came to counter-culture stuff. (My best friend’s sister was the first person to be busted for pot possession in our town. LOL)

I remember watching this movie with my friend, Kay. When the redneck shot Billy and CA at the end, we were so pissed off that we started planning to run away from home. Why run away from home? That really didn’t make much sense but in our young minds, it was what we thought we needed to do. We never got beyond the planning, though. Couldn’t go far with $9.35 and no car. But then, what good would a car have been anyway? Neither of us were old enough to have a driver’s license. “sigh” I miss those good old days.

It’s been raining for the better part of a month. I need some SERIOUS SUN! Looking out my kitchen window this morning at all the mini-swamps all over my yard was just downright sad. I’m sure that it didn’t help anything that Fox news was playing in the background. Reporting the election in Iran, the craziness of Elvis-wannabe in North Korea, etc.

For some reason, the following song from Easy Rider started playing in my head……

 

Roger McGuinn – It’s Alright Ma / I’m Only Bleeding Lyrics (click on title for entire lyrics. They were just too long to post the entire song here. Besides, most of my peeps would get depressed about one third way thru them and quit reading. So, I took the liberty of deleting some of the verses).

Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.

Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you’d just be
One more person crying.

While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.

Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you.

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.

Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him.

While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in.

Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony.

My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What else can you show me?

And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only.

If the Capt. would in my shoes today, I think Capt America would do the following…..

1.Light up a big fattie

2.Tie his American flag bandana around his neck

3.Start up his Harley and listen to the music of the engine

4.Head on down the highway cause he was “born to be wild”.

(here ya go, Noe Noe Girl.  This is what we’d look like “being wild”)

I’m gonna follow his example with a few minute(LOL) adjustments.

I’m going to go take a shower. Find my umbrella. Start up my small Acura SUV. Rev up the engine…hey, at least it has TUBRO! Turn the XM radio to a 70′s station and crank up the volume.  Head on down the highway (must remember to avoid hitting deer, squirrels/wild turkey/people with dementia that wander around the trailerpark, etc)…to WalMart to get a birthday gift. Then, I’ll go “looking for adventure and whatever comes my way”…….which translates into going to a rainy cookout with Ball Park Franks and  watery potato salad. But, dammit, I’ll be wearing an American flag bandanna (under my disposable plastic rain hat)!!!!!! And, I’ll be on the look-out for the “pusher man” aka Humor ice cream truck. Those orange push-ups can be quite addictive.

Who knows? With a little luck, I’m might spot a hitch-hiker that looks like Jack Nicholson. Think I’ll throw an extra helmet in the back seat just in case!!! And, just maybe, he and I will take a short road trip detour. It would be fan-tassss-tic if we’d end up in a cemetery, hugging the 6 ft tall tombstones, talking gibberish, and crying. For those of you who don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, rent the movie, Easy Rider.

Billy….”I’m not a freak but I like to freak!”

A Small 1 Finger Gesture of My Appreciation….

Well, I finally put it off as long as I could. I got up the nerve to open my recent IRA statements.

We’ve lost somewhere between EIGHTY and NINETY THOUSAND DOLLARS in the last few months!!!!!!!!

I demand a bailout!!!!! Obama……how can you sit back knowing that some of us have worked our asses off for many years and put money in IRAs, counting on them for retirement? Little peons like myself do not have the luxury of the salary of a Senator, Congressman, dumbass Nancy Pelosi, etc. being protected and not having to worry. 

 Meanwhile, every bank, car company, mortgage companies, and other mismanaged businesses are being bailed out not once, not twice, but in some cases THREE times!!!!!

I am seriously pissed off!

So, here’s a little token of my unapreciation for all the help that any of you stupid assholes  having given me…….

No, wait…..you haven’t given me any! So, this is for all of the non-help that  I have received from you.

And, here’s a lil sumptin’ sumptin’ for you crooks who stole money from hard working Americans who believed in you.

 

 Don’t be surprised if many Americans in my situation reply with this…….

PS…..Dear Mr Obama…..please hurry up and give me my incentive rebate. The box of  turkey and deer turds that I wanted to mail to you and your Democratic crazies cost more in postage than I thought that it would. Even parcel post is more than I can afford.

Why I’ve Not Been Here….

Lots of craziness going on around here lately.
1.Fight with daughter #1
2.Fight with daughter #2
3.Depressing visit to sister WHICH did have some very funny moments.
4. Ho Ho Hell No…not in the mood for buying this year.
5.Shame, shame! Shame on me…don’t even have a Christmas tree.
6. Quit Cymbalta…not by choice. Noooooo…..ran out!
7.Damn insomnia is back. Now, I roam at night and feel sorry for myself.
8.Energy has been sucked out of me by newly discovered type of vampire…The Vacupire.
9.Crying at the smallest things….must be drug withdrawal. Getting desperate enough to go score some good old timey street drug such as whacy baccy. (JK…or am I?)
10.Overwhelmed with lots of stuff to do!

 

Too tired to write more. Besides, my tears keep making me hit the wrong damn key! And, I can’t find my “shitckake” pic. I wanted to award it to myself, dammit!

And…how’s your life going? Feel free to share. Maybe, if we can get enough people, we could form a circle and have a IHE (I’ve Had Enough!) group meeting. Or, an AB (Angry Bitch) get together.

Anybody game? Come on. Let it all hang out here. I promise not to judge. Can’t say that I won’t laugh, though.

A Brutally Honest Post….

Some of you know that I blog at another site. I am a co-writer/administrator of a site with 3 other women. This site deals with eating disorders, cutting, bipolar, depression, and life in general. Many of our posts are humorous, about love, life, and laughter. But, on some occasions, there will be a soul-baring, no-holds-barred post by one of us dealing with traumatic experiences, abuse (both physical and sexual), and other ugly things that people don’t want to hear or discuss.

Today, there is a brilliant, honest, and soul baring post there by “d”. I urge each and everyone of you to go read it. You will get something from it. And, please post comments of encouragement to my friend.

Bipolar Chicks Blogging

Leaving you with wishes of love and laughter…..no shitcake for anyone today.

Politically Incorrect….

With Christmas behind me and a new year dawning, Ive felt so depressed lately. It all started when my new TV’s picture wouldnt come in clear. I called the customer service line and got someone in India who claimed her name was “Jennifer”. She barely spoke English and by the time I got off the phone with her, the new TV wasn’t working at ALL.
So I decided I’d call MasterCard and dispute the charge. I wasn’t going to pay the bill on something that didn’t work. Well, you guessed it. Another middle eastern call center. “Bob” (which I am sure is short for Ali-Baba Falladi Hussein) didn’t seem to understand what I wanted him to do, but I was able to understand his broken English enough to realize that he had signed me up for some credit score monitoring service at a bargain rate of $69 per month.
This did nothing for my mood. Im stuck with a broken TV and paying $69 a month to have someone tell me whether or not my credit is any good. Well, I sat around the house just feeling worse and worse about myself…until I figured I better get some help. I picked up the phone and called one of those mental health hotlines.
“Hello dis eez Patreek” the english-as-a-fourth-language voice on the other end said.
“Patrick…where are you located?”
“We are in byoootiful Pakistan!” he said. Great, I thought. They’ve even outsourced mental health lines.
“Well, Patrick, this year has just started off so bad…Im feeling really down…Im afraid of what I might do to myself.” I said, hoping for some guidance from across the globe.
“I am so sorry to hear dat.” he said. “Tell me, are you feeling sewey-cidal?”
“Honestly,” I started, “I think I am”
“Oh my goodness!” He said with what sounded like excitement in his voice. “Are you sure you’re feeling sewey-cidal?”
“Im pretty sure Patrick”
“Well you called the right place! Tell me, can you fly a plane?”

ba dum bum!

IMPORTANT REMINDER……..DON’T FORGET TO PAY YOUR TAXES……..

¡Muchas gracias!

41 million illegal aliens are depending on you!