Equality?

Before I launch into this, let me preface this by saying no, I am not racist. But then of course I'm pretty sure even the most racist people in the world would deny being so. Does Al Sharpton concede to being racist? I doubt it. Is he racist? Absolutely.

That being said, I was having a discussion with the Handsome JC today about the state of entitlement that this country seems to have settled on. At this point I don't believe it is any particular race or sexual orientation that has decided they are owed the world. It is more like an entire generation that has settled upon that attitude in life. We raised our children as spoiled little brats, if they mess up then it must be someone else's fault. So why should we be surprised when they have that attitude as adults? I have found that the hardest lesson to instill into my children's hard heads is that when they mess up it is THEIR fault, not the person next door. I keep telling them that we all make mistakes, but it is what we do with ourselves after that mistake is made that defines where we go in life. Do we learn from it? Do we move on from it and take the steps necessary to insure that mistake never happens again or do we blame someone else and continue on with the same old mistakes?

I live in the south where 150 years ago black individuals were kept as slaves. As a country mistakes were made, but from what I can see the country has really gone above and beyond what is necessary to make amends for that. Affirmative action anyone? But now I see that living in the south black Americans (I say black Americans because unless they actually are from Africa, they aren't freaking African in my opinion) have a sense of self entitlement. Their great great grandparents were slaves so white Americans MUST pay the price. But when does the paying stop? How long is society to pay for mistakes made 150 years ago? Minorities today have the same opportunities that everyone has, i.e., go to university and improve your life. Work for what you want/need as opposed to expecting it to be given free and clear. I was wondering the other day that at that point in the future when white Americans become the minority, will we be afforded the same preferential treatment. Will affirmative action be available to us? Will we be allowed to have white pride parades? Will we have scholarships to universities based solely on the fact that we are white? Would we have White Entertainment Television (WET) stations? Would we even want that? I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want that, but I would like for the preferential treatment of races and sexual orientation to stop.

As individuals we are what we are. We are born into families that do right by us or we don't. Every single person on the face of the earth has baggage to deal with. Deal with it and move on and attempt to improve your life rather than blaming it on the fact that you are black/hispanic/gay and the white/straight man is keeping you down. It is not my fault, or the guy next door's fault, your ex-husband/wife's fault, or your Uncle Albert's fault that you aren't going where you want in life.. it is your fault.

That is my rant for the day. That is just what is going through my mind.

Black/Hispanic/Gay Pride? Sorry, but that just seems all outdated and silly. American pride? There you go, maybe we should all just settle on that and move on from the inequality bullshit. I think everyone would benefit from that.

Brevard, North Carolina

Friday afternoon I drove up to Brevard, North Carolina to see The Handsome JC, who had driven down from Maryland to meet the newest addition to his family (the fresh grandson). It was a 4 1/2 hour drive for me, a 9 hour drive for him. I had a really nice weekend though, lots of adventures (in and out of the hotel room, hehe), meeting the other daughter that I had not met yet, and holding the little noobikin, who is absolutely adorable and has inherited his grandfather's freakishly long toes. Brevard is a beautiful town, I would like to visit there again sometime.

There is a small gourmet type store there that we went in that had a plethora of stranged named beers. I bought a few, gave one to JC (I can't remember what it was called but it looked like it was in a moonshine jug with a cork stopper and all) and kept the below one for myself.



I bought the Monty Python Holy Ail for my boss, since he and I both are Monty Python fanatics. He took one look at it, burst into laughter and said that he was going to have to take it home because if he leaves it at work "someone" would take it and drink it. (I failed to mention that it might be me who is the "someone.") The label on the bottle cracks me up, it says, "Tempered over burning witches."

*insert snide ex-wife/ex-girlfriend joke here*

Now, to keep up the spirit of the Cuss-O-Meter, here is my daily addition: BASTARD

The Cuss-O-Meter

Apparently my language isn't colorful enough.


Created by OnePlusYou

I'm experimenting. Be Right Back................ (Ignore the below if you are easily offended)

fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother
fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother
fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shit
bags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck
shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker
damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a
bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker
damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags
son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit
fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit fuck fuckity shitbags son of a bitch mother fucker damn hell suckit fuck shit damn damn damn

Ok.. lets see what this did to my Cuss-O-Meter. Be Right Back Again.

Fuck. It did nuthin. I am going to have to spice it up more often, I'm thinking.

The Joy Internetting

Facebook. I believe it is here to stay. For a while anyway. My parents have discovered the joy of posting baby pictures of my brother, who is now an airline pilot, and myself (I'm not an airline pilot). As adorable as this sounds, it has led to some interesting misidentifications of a few photos. Luckily for me I was the only one around with long brown hair and huge soulful eyes (insert big shiteatin' grin here), so I was always identified correctly. My brother, however, was misidentified in one photo. My parents posted a picture of me playing in a backyard pool with the two neighbor kids, one being a small girl without a shirt on. They thought it was my brother and tagged the picture that way. I did correct them and told them who it was, but the damage is done. I can now make fun of my brother until the end of time, reminding him that at least our parents knew who I was in baby pictures.

I have had an ongoing argument with him over the last 20 years over who is the favorite. This development has given me a huge advantage. Life is good. hehe

Me, at about 3 or 4.

Happy Shakespeare Birthday!

You know I had to post a celebration.



I found this the other day. Scenes from the movie Pulp Fiction translated into Shakespeare speak. I had ta laff, I really did. It makes me want to go back and watch Pulp Fiction again, which I haven't seen in several years, just to compare the scenes.

ACT I SCENE 2. A road, morning. Enter a carriage, with JULES and VINCENT, murderers.

J: And know'st thou what the French name cottage pie?
V: Say they not cottage pie, in their own tongue?
J: But nay, their tongues, for speech and taste alike
Are strange to ours, with their own history:
Gaul knoweth not a cottage from a house.
V: What say they then, pray?
J: Hachis Parmentier.
V: Hachis Parmentier! What name they cream?
J: Cream is but cream, only they say le crème.
V: What do they name black pudding?
J: I know not;
I visited no inn it could be bought.


...


J: My pardon; did I break thy concentration?
Continue! Ah, but now thy tongue is still.
Allow me then to offer a response.
Describe Marsellus Wallace to me, pray.
B: What?
J: What country dost thou hail from?
B: What?
J: How passing strange, for I have traveled far,
And never have I heard tell of this What.
What language speak they in the land of What?
B: What?
J: The Queen's own English, base knave, dost thou speak it?
B: Aye!
J: Then hearken to my words and answer them!
Describe to me Marsellus Wallace!
B: What?
JULES presses his knife to BRETT's throat
J: Speak 'What' again! Thou cur, cry 'What' again!
I dare thee utter 'What' again but once!
I dare thee twice and spit upon thy name!
Now, paint for me a portraiture in words,
If thou hast any in thy head but 'What',
Of Marsellus Wallace!
B: He is dark.
J: Aye, and what more?
B: His head is shaven bald.
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: What?
JULES strikes and BRETT cries out
J: Has he the semblance of a harlot?
B: Nay!
J: Then why didst thou attempt to bed him thus?
B: I did not!
J: Aye, thou didst! O, aye, thou didst!
Thou hoped to rape him like a chattel whore,
And sooth, Lord Wallace is displeased to bed
With anyone but she to whom he wed.

This site is dedicated to translating the entire movie into Shakespeare speak. Funny as hell it is. Go have a read. :-)

This About Sums It Up

This video perfectly reports my life as of late. I love it when the international news agencies report something that hits so close and I can relate to so well.

Have You Ever Noticed.......

That when a celebrity has a new album or a new movie to promote, suddenly they decide to "come forward" with their own personal struggle with depression/abuse/eating disorder, or that they are suddenly, happily gay? Why is it that they choose that particular time to talk about it... or why do they even talk about it at all? Is it to make them feel as if they are identifying with the little people and that they, too, have the same human struggles that us common folk have? I call bullshit on that. Sure they may get depressed. Sure they may have been abused... sure they have the same emotional ups and downs as the rest of us, but to be perfectly honest here, they are celebrities because we need fantasy lives to imagine ourselves in. I imagine myself with 50 million plus bucks in the bank. I may have an occasional blue day (can you say PMS??), but I suspect I will be much less stressed about things. I can imagine that not having to worry about my credit card bill would make me much, much happier. I can almost imagine myself being about to sign a two year cell phone contract without hyperventilating.

Gwyneth Paltrow has a new movie to promote, and suddenly she is coming forward with her struggle with mild postpartum depression. All you moms say it with me.. GROAAAAN. It is ridiculous and nearly every new mom I have ever known has had that struggle to some extent. It doesn't make her any better because she survived it without going on a killing rampage. It just means she is a normal person. I don't exactly see why it should be celebrated or should have dozens of articles written about it. (On a side note, she also claims that her husband gets very upset with her if she mentions him in interviews.. good for him, she needs to take a hint and keep her mouth shut.)

Is it just me or does it seem that the bigger the mystique, the bigger the star? The ones that constantly talk about themselves or put themselves in tabloid heaven are the ones that us general public people get sick of hearing about.

Anyway, that is my rant for the day. Sorry for the long absence, but I have been feeling strangely uncreative lately. Hopefully normal blogging will resume shortly.

Did anyone miss me? ;-)

Meatloaf Day

Meatloaf Day is what I call periods of time when I have had pretty much zilch to blog about. Nothing is really going on, good or bad, all the funny things I seem to see are things I've already posted about, etc.

HOWEVER, in a discussion with my partner in crime, Jess, she was talking about how someone read and commented on her blog and that she was writing them an email to thank them. I said, "You are sending them an email to thank them for reading your blog?"

Her response was, "Well, yeah."

My first thought was HEY... then I pointed out to her that she doesn't ever thank me for reading her blog.

Speechlessness abounds in these here parts now. I love it when I can render her with nothing to say. I just knew I had to blog about it.

hehe

Thus ends my post on Meatloaf Day.

I Just Received This...

And thought I would post it. It is an open letter written by the police officer who arrested Dawn Wells a/k/a Mary Ann.

Dear Deb:

Yes it was me. I am the fool who arrested America's fantasy, Mary Ann. But it wasn't my fault! The woman was stoned! It was my job! I had no choice! The world can stop making fun of me now. I realized at the time that arresting Mary Ann would be opening me up to all sorts of backlash, but it had to be done. If it had been any other famous person (Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, etc.), I would have been applauded. As it was I have gotten nothing but grief from anyone who knows, which at the moment, unfortunately, seems to be the entire population of the United States.

Life has been relatively peaceful since it happened in October. Other than a few officers I work with nobody really knew that Mary Ann had been arrested, but when it hit the national news the shit hit the fan. People point at me on the street. My own grandmother has chastised me for picking on Mary Ann. I can't drive down the street in peace now. When I pull someone over for speeding the first thing out of their mouth is, "You're the one who arrested Mary Ann! What the fuck were you thinking you idiot!" They then laugh when I give them their tickets instead of looking chastised and sorry like they are supposed to. I had one guy actually say that he couldn't wait to tell his friends that he got a ticket from the asshole who arrested Mary Ann.

Ms. Wells told me at the time that I pulled her over for swerving that she was swerving because she couldn't find the heater in her car. All four windows were down, no wonder she needed to turn the heater on. Yes okay I know that I am resorting to sarcasm, but I need my life to go back to normal. She had four half smoked joints in her car! What was I supposed to do...? Blame it on Ginger, or maybe the Professor??

Please, let my life go back to normal. I only did what my job made me do.

Stop calling me Little Buddy.

Officer J.G.

Paolo Nutini

This guy was recommended by Diane, so I thought I would check him out... turns out she was absolutely correct in her recommendation, the guy is GREAT. She gets 598,923 bonus points for him being Scottish. hehe

My Current Favorite CD

Mika - Life in Cartoon Motion



Except I left it sitting on my desk at work. :-(

Email Stuff

I hadn't spoken to the WRS in weeks. Apparently he was busy working on a huge ass grant worth $2 million, but that is no excuse as far as I'm concerned. Our friendship should come first, but oh well. Last week the grant app was done and I still hadn't heard from him, so I thought I would prompt a little bit of contact with an email. Nothing big really, I just told him I was moving to Russia with the handsome JC and that I was pregnant with twins.

Sure enough, that elicited a response:

Congratulations!!! Я надеюсь вы john и близнецы имеет сказовое время в земле Putin. Май ваши младенцы имеют более малых младенцев внутри их... .and настолько дальше.

No I don't know what it says other than Congratulations, John and Putin. So I ran it through the Babelfish translation site. The translation was:

Congratulations!!! I hope you john and twins has fantastic time in earth Putin. May your babies have the smaller babies inside of their.....and so further.

I'm pretty sure that isn't what he intended to say, but who knows. My response was, "I was just kidding you freak, god almighty what am I going to do with your fucking ass??"

For shits and grins I ran it through Babelfish as well, to translate it from English to French. It looked like this after translation:

J'étais juste vous badinant anormal. toute-puissant d'un dieu ce que la baise suis moi allant faire avec votre âne.

I love how the French can make the most insulting lines sound elegant. Just to be sure I thought I would translate it from French BACK to English to see how garbled it came out. This was the result:

I was right badinant you abnormal all-powerful of a god what kisses am me active to make with your ass.

I'm also pretty sure that isn't what I meant to say, but I swear that Jess and I laughed until tears were streaming.

That's good shit right there. hehe

Pornographic Vegetables

I got these pictures in an email. They didn't make me hungry but I was sort of turned on...........

HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA

My Grandpa

I pinched this picture of my grandfather off of one of my relative's Facebook page. (He is the one on the left, by the way.) He was so little.. a bit shorter than my mother, who is 5' tall. He talked in that strange Newfoundlander accent that is difficult to understand sometimes, but he sped it up about a thousand times so that it was nearly impossible to understand. In fact, if you have seen the movie Snatch, the Brad Pitt character always cracked me up because he sounds so much like the way my grandfather sounded. ("Do ye like dags?")

Anyway, I came across this photograph, and thought I'd post it.

Next, my very good friend Odat gave me this award. I am oddly touched by this, as much as she has gone through lately she still takes the time to make us feel as if we are the special ones. What a girl she is.

I will pass this lovely award to Jess, my very good friend and office partner, who keeps me in stitches on a daily basis. Dunno what I'd do without her... probably get more work done, if nothing else. hehe

Speaking of work, I need to get to it. After having the last 5 days off it is going to be difficult to get back into the routine.

*insert bemused expression here*

An open letter to TA Travel Centers:

Dear TA Executives:

I drive. A lot. My family lives in Oklahoma. My fiance lives in Maryland. I live in Georgia. Hence the driving. A lot. Now, when I'm driving, I tend to drink many beverages, ranging from energy drinks to Diet Coke to just plain old water, and occasionally even coffee or tea, although I don't drink the latter two that often when I travel because it forces me to have to take more than the usual amount of pee breaks.

I'm sorry if I sound as if I'm rambling, I just thought I needed to set the scene for you.

Thursday morning, oh, approximately 9:00, Florence, South Carolina. I was in an extreme need for a pee stop. I held out for a TA Travel Plaza because your facility has always been a friend to me in my time of need, whether it be water, Jones Energy Mints, etc., you always came through for me. So Thursday morning I bypassed the Pilot Travel Center. I bypassed the multitude of convenience stores, and went out of my way down a road to visit you. I finally make it to your location and pulled into the entrance. It turned out to be the wrong entrance. You have separate ways in for 18 wheelers and cars which would be okay if you had a way to get to the car parking lot and gas tanks from the truck parking lot and gas tanks. You did not. Completely cut off from each other they were. Does that sound convenient to you? Forcing someone who has been driving for hours to search for a way to get into your facility? I didn't think so, but I chalked it up to poor planning and consoled myself with the fact that the person who designed the flawed entrances was probably fired for being an idiot.

Alrighty then. Through sheer determination I found may way to your gas pumps, filled my car with gas. This activity went without incident. But remember how I planned the stop at your place of business because I really really REALLY needed to pee? The story gets horrifying from here...

After I pump the gasoline into my car I nonchalantly walked into the front doors of your facility. Now mind you, your bathroom wasn't the only thing I was looking for... in the previous hour my MP3 player had lost its battery charge and I didn't have a spare battery, so my intent was to purchase from your business one of those adapter thingies that would allow me to plug the MP3 player into the cigarette lighter. I had visions of continuing on my journey with relieved bladder and a variety of musical choices to occupy me.

Alas, it wasn't to be.

You had no adapters, which I find odd considering truckers, travelers, etc. are at your store at all hours of the night. How many of those people have had to leave disappointed because they couldn't find an adapter thingy?? Okay, I concede that it is possible that you were just sold out, and I would have continued on my merry way without much thought of it other than to stop somewhere else for an adapter had your women's bathroom been in working order.

Ahhh, NOW we are at the core reason for this post.

YOU ARE A FUCKING TRAVEL PLAZA! People who travel need to pee! You sell coffee, drinks, etc., all the ingredients to force people to have to stop at your facility for the specific purpose of using your restroom (and I'm sure you are aware that 87.4% of travelers feel obligated to buy a little something from places who
graciously allow us to use their restrooms - true story, scientific fact*), yet your women's bathroom was out of order. The sign on the door said, "Closed For Cleaning." When I saw the sign a touch of panic began to set in. Breathe, breathe... its okay, its a cleaning, how long does that take. So I hung around your store for about 10 or 15 minutes, shopping, looking again for the adapter thingy (which you still didn't have), looking at your DVDs, glancing through your audio book selection, walking back to the restroom.. nope,the sign is still up... looking at your impressive cell phone accessory choices, looking at those weird looking rolled up things that are in your snack area - do people really eat those things??

Anyway, after waiting a reasonable time I once again headed back to the restroom area. The sign was still up, and by that time I was in pain. Finally a sour, bitter looking women came out, unhooked the sign from the wall so she could come out of there, and NOOOOO!!! She turned around and hooked the sign back up. It was dawning on me that they were not going to let me pee. I asked through gritted teeth (but fairly politely, under the circumstances) was the bathroom going to open anytime soon? The bitter, hateful old wench had the nerve to turn and look at me standing there in my agony, and said, "No," and turned and walked away without a backward glance. No sympathy, no suggestions, just a FUCK YOU NO YOU AIN'T USING THIS BATHROOM EVER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA message to her tone.

I then felt obligated to buy something since I had hung out in your store so long.

Pilot Travel Centers are my new favorite pit stop.

Sincerely,
Deb from Boondoggled








*These statistics may or may not be totally made up.

Happy Valentine's Day?

I have to use the cupid pic for the sake of tradition, but this year, for the first time in ohhhh, about a hundred years, Valentine's Day is something I am looking forward to.

Have a good one. I'm off to Annapolis.

Keep my seat warm. :-)

My New Motto

I Have a Bad Pixel

I have a bad pixel on my work computer monitor. It GLARES at me everytime I try to look at anything interesting (like Jess's blog, obviously). Click on the picture to get the full size view.

I demand a new computer.

P.S.: Let's all pretend not to notice that Jess has NO COMMENTS to her last post.

That is all.

Mitt Romney Drops from the Election Race

My dog is one smart dog. (See post below.)

God Almighty

We had a staff meeeting yesterday at work. You would not BUH LEEVE the level of idiocy on the part of one of the participants. Any of you who have hung around for any amount of time might remember the Potty Monitor from here and from here. She made the meeting very interesting, which was a source of endless entertainment for the rest of us who were in attendance. Emails were flying around after the meeting. I could hear occasional guffaws of laughter and I knew that another email has hit someone's screen. It was GREAT.

I can't wait to see how the day develops.