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.

My Posse Of Really Old Dudes…Senior Homies!

I’m still cleaning out my other blog. It was on a forum and I was pretty lax about spelling, grammar, and what-not .Well, actually, I still am negligent about a lot of that stuff.

This is another post from that blog. In it’s original post, it was a continuation of a previous post. I’ve tweaked it a bit and hope that it will make sense standing alone.

I’ve got recent stuff to write about but it seems like my life has been really hectic lately. And I just don’t have the time to write about current stuff. Is it just me or do you guys find that technology such as computers, new cameras, and all that crap is making your life more complicated?  I have more things but less time to do anything with them.

Oh well….on with the Barbie freak show……

As some of you know, I love auctions and go a couple of times a month. I’ve been doing it for about 2 years now. I’ve gotten some really neat stuff. But, it hit me tonight at the auction that I’ve gotten more than that out of it. I have became pretty good friends with some fairly elderly men there. Nothing sexual. Let’s get that straight right up front. These guys make me laugh more than almost anyone in the world. They are great storytellers. They rib each other in the rawest ways. They tell stuff on each other. I’m glad that I have met each and every one of them.

One of the oldest guys, Mr. Lilly, is in his 80′s. Tall and thin as a string bean. Weathered face with lots of interesting wrinkles and creases. Tonight he came in with something behind his back. He came over to me and told me he had me a present. Then he handed me a miniature, really old ceramic toilet. I had mentioned it once when it was up for auction. I thought it was odd and different. and I wanted it for my TrailerPark doll collection. They need to crap, too, ya know! He bought it for me!!!!! How thoughtful is that? I can now truthfully say that one of the sweetest things that has ever happened in my life was when a really old dude bought be a toilet at an auction.

A little while back, another of the ODP (old dude posse) came to the auction bearing a gift for me. It was an old urine sample bottle. LMAO He knows that I love collecting unusual and weird things. It is sitting on my shelf in my office right along with the miniature dollhouse commode.

One of my other old guy friends is Mr. Persinger, whom I call “Percy”. He has a wooden leg.  Percy got shot in the leg by a jealous husband back in his younger days. The guy suspected his wife was cheating with Percy and started spying on his wife. One night, his suspicion was validated. He caught Percy and his wife doing the dirty deed right in his own bed. Percy was a real ladies’ man in his prime.

Tonight he came in and was walking really funny, kinda swaying back and forth. He sat down next to me and I asked him what was wrong. He said, “I put my g**damned leg on backwards!” He sat there and switched it around. 

But, my very favorite is Kirk. He is the sweetest man that I have ever met. Kirk is close to 70 and owns an antique shop. Whenever I want to, I go to his shop and he lets me pick out anything that I want. I sell it on eBay for him and he gives me HALF the money. He doesn’t even take out his original cost. And, if there is something that I have my eye on personally, he always tries to give it to me.

 Tonight,Kirk was telling a tale about him, Percy, and this other guy. They went to an auction a couple of nights ago and took one of those remote control fart machines. They set it under a cushion in an empty seat between two older women. Every once in a while, they’d hit the button and……frrrrrrtttttt! He said that the two women kept stealing looks at each other. Each thought the other one was farting! Finally, one said something about it to the other one…..about it being rude and tasteless to do that in public. The second one said, “I thought it was you!’
Meanwhile, Kirk and the Old Dude Posse’ were sitting behind them cracking up. Then, just like little kids, they took it to a restaurant, where they randomly set it off.

I truly do love these old codgers. They let me share in all their stories, gags, everything. But, with the exception of Percy, these guys are true gentlemen. They never curse around me. I will overhear them talking amongst themselve and using lots of bad language. But, as soon as one of them spots me, not another curse word is spoken.

It’s pretty wonderful to me that I can feel so comfortable and fit in with these guys. Wish all my relationships could be this easy.

5-26-09 Since I wrote this, Percy died from cancer. He touched my life with his jokes, gags, and stories. I truly miss him.

I think that people write off old people. We become too busy to stop and listen to them. That’s a shame since they truly can enrich our lives. If you have an old person in your life, give them the re spect that they deserve. And, if you will just take a few minutes to listen to one of their stories, I swear you will not be sorry.

R.I.P Percy

Also, I quit going to auctions except for a rare occasion. My collecting things was getting out of hand. Plus, I found myself “mercy bidding” too often. That’s when the aucitoneer is working his ass off trying to get bids on wothless crap that nobody wanted. I’d end up bidding out of pity. After “pitty bidding” auctions, I’d stop and throw the stuff in a dumpster. This started added up to big-o bucks and I had to quit doing it. So, I don’t see my old posse dudes very often anymore. I sure do miss them a lot!

Just Kill Me Now! Plus Alfie Not the Baby Daddy……

A few days ago, I was in Steak Escape to grab some lunch. It turned out to be crappy because they overcooked the meat to the point of eating leather. But, that’s neither here nor there as far as this post goes.

I was at the soda machine filling up one of those giganticbigass family size cups with Diet Coke when I heard, “Hey, I thought that was you! Girl, where ya been?”
I turned around and it was a girl that I had met several years ago. She worked at one of my favorite shopping in order to hoard the crap places and we just began talking whenever I went in (which was a helluva lot). Then, I worked at a jewelry store a couple of Christmas’ (to support my then habit of buying and giving away jewelry) and she became a regular customer.

Fern is a very intelligent, highly motivated college graduate who keeps seeming to hit brick walls when it comes to employment. She majored in business and computers and is now working at a low-bucks Sav-A-Lot grocery store. She admits that it might partly have to do with her poor choice in male friends, too. I hope that one day she’ll find a guy who will treat her well.

Fern has always enjoyed the better things in life despite her low or sometimes  total lack of income. Name brands, nice cars (nice Caddy), etc. So, it was not shocking to see her dressed to the nines and wearing lots of bling. I noticed a really cute red purse that she was carrying and was looking it over. As I turned it around, I said “What brand is this?”  She said,”Girl, what do you think? It’s Prada”.I love Fern to death but I think that purse was probably Parda…in other words FAKE. But, it was cute anyway.

Now, here is where it goes haywire. I have a terrible habit of imitating the speech habits….cadence, slang, etc. of whoever I’m talking with. Don’t mean to, just happens. Like another person has suddenly taken control of my vocal cords and mouth.

We’ve all had one (or in my case, many) of those moments when as soon as words leave your pie-hole, you wish with everything that was in you, you could suck ‘em back down? Well, that’s what happened.

Here’s what came out of my mouth when she said Prada:

“Niggah, pluuuuuuuzzzzzeeeee. Prada????”

OMG!!!! I don’t even know where that came from. It was like Wanda Sykes had hijacked my brain. Damn Sam in a Pepsi can!!!!!! WTF????? Here I am, whiter than a bleach alternative….German and Scotch ancestors…..we are talking TOTAL WHITEY here. More CRACKER than a box of Keebler’s saltines. I make Casper the Ghost look like he’s been lying in the hot Miami sun . And,  I swear I am not prejudice. Fern is one among many of my friends from different races and ethnicity. Fern looked at me like I had lost total control of my bowels and was taking a crap right  in the middle of The Steak Escape. It took both of us a minute to regain our composure. Slapmenowslapmenowslapmenowslapmenow!!!!!

I might also want to mention here that Fern could break me into, snapped like a twig in around 2 seconds time. She is a BEAST! I’m talking super-strong. Fern looks like a female version of Samuel L. Jackson. I’m always expecting to hear,

 “I’ve had it with these motherfuckin’ snakes on this motherfuckin’ plane!

Thank goodness, she knew that I am not racist or mean spirited. After an awkward 30 second silence, she (bless her heart) burst out laughing. She said, “Girl, you been listening to too much of that rap shit!”

I started to apologize but she stopped me and said that was the best laugh that she’d had in a while. Thank you, Fern, for your great sense of humor and especially for not considering kicking my ass right there in the Steak Escape.

So, today’s warm and freshly baked, warm and gooey shitcake goes to…..ME!

I just saw this and thought it was worth sharing…..

Sweet Deal: Teen Charged In Huge Candy Order

I can’t help wondering what he was going to do with all that candy?

By Associated Press

NBC 4

updated 3:15 p.m. ET, Tues., Feb. 10, 2009

MIDDLETOWN, Ohio – Police say an Ohio teenager tried to pull off a sweet deal, ordering more than $37,000 of candy online and charging it to his former high school.

Police say 18-year-old Jad Holmes used a purchasing number from Middletown High School to order thousands of lollipops and candy bars from Michigan-based The Goodies Factory. It wasn’t clear how he accessed the number.

The candy company became suspicious, contacted the school and was told by detectives to send an empty box.

Police say Holmes was arrested after the fake delivery to his home.

Holmes faces two counts of felony telecommunications fraud. He was being held in Middletown City Jail on more than $30,000 bond.

 

 

Also, speaking of dumb….

13 Year Old Daddy    That boy looks like he might have graduated to Pull Ups!

edited 2/19/09 I just saw on a cable news shows that Alfie, the 13 yr old is probably not the father of this baby. THANK GOODNESS! Seems that his 15 yr old sweetie was sleeping with 5 boys at the time that she conceived. One of the boys was Alfie’s older brother. Alfie’s and baby mama’s parents put their heads together and decided to name Alfie as the father. Why? Money, of course. They knew that pics of  pint-sized Alfie with the baby would bring money from the tabloids. They are real pieces of work! I feel sorry for the baby.

I’m In The Closet!

I’m not sure exactly when I developed this “somebody’s at the door, I’m gonna hide” habit that I’ve got. But, I’m a tellin’ ya that I’m getting pretty good at it.

The first time that I did it was when my brother from another city came a’knockin’. We had been on pretty cool terms ever since the death of my mother (when he accused me of shit that I didn’t do). All of a sudden, he’s trying to brother-up to me again and I’m just not ready. I still thought that he was a gigantic asshole. So, on the day he called me and asked me if I was going to be home, I told him, “No”. But, lo and behold, a few hours later, I hear my doorbell ringing. At this time, I was getting ready for a shower and grabbed a towel, went to a window and peeked out. There he was with his little boy at my door. The good side of me said to get dressed and answer the door. The still-pissed-off side said, “HIDE! ” And, even though, my car was in the driveway, I hid. Not just me but I grabbed my little girl and pulled her with me into the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it. This made no sense as my front door was already locked. I must have thought that he would kick the door open and come in. This is funny all by itself because he was a very overweight, out of shape guy. Shushing my daughter, I crouched with my ear to the door listening. The doorbell rang again. And again. I guess my car was a give-a-way. Finally, there was just silence and I opened the door and lightly tip-toed to the window, pulled back the curtain just a smidge, and saw him backing out of my driveway. I guess I should have felt ashamed of myself but I didn’t. I felt like a Navy seal.

Another time, I was in the kitchen cooking hamburgers when I heard the doorbell. It was summer and I had my front door open and anybody could see into my house. Once again, I peeked out a window. Crapola!!! It was a friend of my husband’s. Well, he was sorta my friend, too. My husband and I used to ride with a motorcycle gang, The Avengers, and he was one of the “brothers”.( More Avenger tales upon request. LOL) Snake, the guy at the door, is about 6 ft 4 inches and weighs all of 140 pounds. He wears layers of clothes even in hot summer months trying to cover up his thinness.His arms are covered with snake and skull tatoos Snake is funny but tends to start every sentence with, “Remember when…..?” In other words, he lives in the past. He also had a horrible habit of ending every sentence with , “Huh?”. I was not in the mood to entertain him until my husband came home (which would have been 2 hours!). I had never even been around him without some of the rest of the gang. I didn’t think he would do anything bad but I had not seen him in around 10 years or so. My hair was matted from sweat from the August heat. I had on ratty, bleached spotted shirt and shorts because I had been cleaning the basement earlier. I didn’t feel the need to impress Snake with my appearance but I knew what a big gossip that he was. I really didn’t want him to see me looking like a by-the-hour cleaning woman. When riding with the A’s, I had a reputation of being “ballsy” and frankly, rather wild.

There was nothing “ballsy” or wild about me that day unless you count the wild hairs that needed shaved on my legs.

So, I hid. First, I hid to streak across the hallway at the speed of light, becoming The Invisible Woman. For some reason (maybe fight or flight reaction), it never occurred to me that I had just ran right in front of the door where Snake was standing and the door was solid glass.

I’m not a mind reader but I figured that he thought I was going to get something/get dressed/had the poops/etc. and was going to come right back and answer the door. But, I didn’t. I got in the closet. Why? Dunno. Just seemed like a good idea at the time.

So, here I am in a very, very hot closet which is located right beside a window which is about 5 feet from where he is standing. I heard the doorbell ring again. I began to sweat. Not from hearing the doorbell, but from the hell-fire heat that I was feeling from hiding behind winter coats.

Not what? He had been standing there at least 5 minutes. My mind was racing. Should I go and pretend that I hadn’t heard the doorbell? No, I couldn’t. I’m sure that he had seen a sweaty, hairy lump of something streak by in front of the door. So, I stayed frozen in place, beads of sweat running into my eyes and down my nose. Surely, he would leave soon. I could smell the hamburgers on the stove. They were burning! Therefore, I realized that he could smell them, too. Uh oh!

Then, the unimaginable happened. He came in! He just opened the door and walked right in and begin to holler my name. So, here I am in the closet trying to chock back my need to cough from the heat and dust. (Who would have thought there closet needing dusting? Sheesh!). I hear his footsteps coming down the hall. I am about to pee my pants…..literally. I had to go to the bathroom so bad that I considered a few minutes before that I might pee on a jacket and then wash it.

Footsteps getting closer and closer. OMG! He’s in the room. I’m beginning to feel like I’m in a slasher movie. But, there is no way to remedy this without really looking like a bitch or a total idiot. What was I to do? Jump out of the closet, yell “Well, Hi!” and take the chance of scaring the shit out of him. And, how in the world could I explain being in the closet? Tell him that I was cleaning it with the door completely shut? Tell him that it was my makeshift sauna? So, I just held my breath and began to pray that I wouldn’t have to fart or make some other kind of noise………

.

FINALLY…I hear the footsteps retreating. I hear the door open and shut. WHEW!!!! Just in time. I thought I was going to pass out in there. No one would have found me for at least 2 hours. I could have died among the assortment of camo coats, coats with fur collars, and various other outerwear.

I very, very slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. I don’t think that I have mentioned that the window right next to the closet door was wide open. I was petrified when the hinges squeaked. I stood behind the door like a stone statue for what seemed to be forever. Finally, I crouched down and crawled like a ninja the short way to the window. Inch by inch, I raised my head up to window level. I would have surely had a heart attack if he had been looking in. But, as my eyes came up level with the window ledge, I could see that no one was on my porch.

Oh yeah! Embarrassing disaster averted…..or so I thought. As I walked from the room and headed back to the kitchen to turn off the now burnt meat, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him again.

Holy cow! He was talking to my neighbor, whose yard is right across the road from my yard (from where you can see in my front door!). I saw my neighbor point at my car, shrug his shoulders, and talk to Snake. Snake is looking back at the house and making “WTF?” motions with his hands. And then….

OH NO! He decided to sit down at the edge of my yard with his back up against my fence. Once again, I go into ninja mode….. and began to tiptoe with cat feet around my house. This time, I go back into the room with the closet but have decided that I don’t care what happens…..I am not going back into that Doorway To Hell. Instead, I crouch below the window ledge, peeping out every minute or so. And,he’s still sitting and waiting.

By now, I am wondering how I’m going to explain my kitchen fire from burnt meat to the 911 operator. Finally, I realize that I have no choice but to crawl on hands and knees to the kitchen and turn off the stove. Just as I am winding up to make a NASCAR speed crawl by the front door, I hear the beautiful sound of a Harley engine starting up!!!!

He’s finally leaving! Saved in the nick of time. Thank you, Patron Saint of Motorcycle Mamas!!!!

I promise that I will never hide from a bro’ again!!!

Other people that I’ve hidden from for no good reason:

The assessor’s office.

The lawn guy

Church Lady

Exterminator

My brother

My neighbor

I started this post with the intention of writing about all these incidences. But, Snake took too much time.

Other stories available upon request.

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.