Holiday Chickens!

I have neglected my holiday posting, mostly because I have been unusually Scroogish (is that a word?) this year. So in light of my failings I have decided to make it up to you by posting a few cartoons from my favorite Chicken Artist. If this doesn't earn your forgiveness for my obvious failings, nothing will.

And yes, I am aware that this one is totally not a holiday toon, but it made me laugh so I'm putting it here anyway.

P.S.: I have bitch cat trying to get all up in my grill at the moment.. which is fine (I guess) because I am laid out across the sofa like I was Jabba Da Hut... but the problem is she keeps staring over my shoulder, acting kind of startled. Seeing as how it is 5:30 in the morning and nobody else is up, there shouldn't be anything over there for her to be staring at and I don't wanna turn around to see in case it is a zombie behind me.

The Escape Artist

This is Jake, taken last year before we moved to the new abode. At this house we have a large back yard, completely fenced in, with no (apparent) way of getting out. He, however, has proven me wrong. I let him out to do his business and went back 15 minutes later to let him in and he was gone.. MY DOG WAS GONE!!

I grabbed my shoes, jacket, purse, keys (forgot my phone) and took off, driving around the block to look for him. I knew he hadn't gotten far, but considering his former reputation for bad assedness, I feared for the neighbor's safety. What I had forgotten is this 13 year old dog doesn't give a shit about being bad assed anymore, as long as the house is warm and they feed him.

I located him about 5 houses down from ours. The lady there had hold of his collar and was calling the vet's number that was on his tag. I pulled up and she told them his owner just showed up, thanks anyway, then she brought him to the car where he happily jumped in and settled in like he had been in the adventure of a lifetime. The neighbor (Bonnie, as I now know), was very nice, had given him a chew bone and kept him there until she could locate Jake's owner. Jake was behaving toward her as if he'd known her all his life.

It was kind of cute, actually.

But now he's home, warm and has been fed. His life is good.

Busy Busy Busy

Christmas Day and the days surrounding it were quite busy.  We had J's kids here.. which was interesting and included a physical altercation between siblings.  I was in the kitchen whilst their father physically restrained and removed one sibling from the room (the man is stronger than he looks)...  and was happy to stay there. 

J's grandson, however, was here as well.  I was quite entertained by this 2 year old North Carolina boy and we spent nearly all waking minutes of his four days visiting together, just chillin.  He kept laying his head on me telling me he liked me... at one point he told me he didn't like me, right before he laid his head on my shoulder and cuddled up.  I didn't believe him.  There was one problem I had with the child though.  He flat refused to sit still!  I was trying to take pictures of him and in every single picture of him, one body part (or more) was a blur from his wiggling all over the place.  So to combat this problem I decided to take a video of him and then just run it and pick out a good shot of him to use as a picture.  Bad move.  He had decided he didn't want to be videoed and he told me to stop it.  I told him I was just trying to get a good picture of him... he commenced to cussing me out like a freaking sailor.

Ooops.

And I got it on video.  HAHAHAHAAA

Anyway...  I mentioned to his mother (after she had used a few choice words in a conversation) that her boy has been cussing at us.  She smiled, ruefully, and said that she has told him those fucking words were fucking bad, he knows they are bad, and then continued on as if nothing was said. 

The boy did try to back down when I told him those were bad words.  He tried to tell me he was a bad boy.  I said no, you are a good boy, but that word is bad.  NO I'M A BAD BOY!!

*sigh*

And The Lord Did Grin.

Merry Christmas everybody.  Grin with the Lord for the holiday.  :-)

In Days Gone By...

One evening, whilst I was still chilling with my homies in Savannah, I received a phone call from my son - who at the time was approximately 12 years old.  He was in the car with his dad and was giving his poor father loads of shit because his dad had a date that night.  So he called me.

I, of course, joined in the fun.


What's her name?  Fluffy Butt (I just made that up right here in the spot, I crack myself up).  Anyway, it continued on for a bit..  and the conversation got around to where he met her at.  He told us (my son was relaying all the information back and forth between his dad and myself).  I told my son to tell his dad that it was better than where I met my last boyfriend.  Of course this peaked his dad's interest and he had to ask.. where did you meet your last boyfriend?

In rehab.

I heard the wariness creep into his dad's voice, he wasn't sure if I was serious or not. 

He finally asked (through my son, who was suppressing gales of laughter), was I still with him?  I said no, I broke up with him and went back to my ex girlfriend.

Silence.

My son, on the other hand, was about to bust a gut.    It was great.  hehe

Not As Good As A Zygmie.. but nearly..........

This was forwarded to me by a friend, I had no choice but post it.  



*insert inappropriate giggles here*

Oh Em Gee...

J and I have been playing a video game (that will rename unnamed, lest you call me geeky names).  Okay, the thing is, I have a thing for mini people.. dunno why, its just the way I roll.  Midgets...  love em.  Gnomes - omg - what can be better than magical mini people??  But now I have discovered a new love...  PYGMIES! 

Mini people with killer attitude?  For the love of gawd I can't take the cuteness overload! The only thing that could get better than that would be if there were zombie pygmies. 

I just realized, this is another post that reveals how totally odd I truly am.

Speaking of Sweeping....

My grandmunchkin, adorable little tyke... has made a friend.

This is the little beauty:

And yes.  She is every bit ornerier than she even looks here.  She also has a bit of a weird streak.  See this thing here:

My mother has one of these and she has played a game with chasing Little Britches around the house with it when she is sweeping.  Now LB has decided that thing is her best friend and is all the time pulling it out of the closet to have my mom sweep.  She has named it Buddy.  She says, "C'mon Buddy." (Pulling it out of the closet.)  She then drags it over to my mom and makes her sweep the floor with it while LB runs around in front of it.  Told ya she was a bit strange.

At least Mom's floors stay clean.

I Love The Sweep Function

I have a junk email address that I never... well, hardly ever.. even look at. That is vaguely bad because I do have a few important emails (think IRS important) going to that email address and if they emailed me to tell me I was on my way to prison, I have been living in blissful ignorance.

So yesterday I ordered J's Christmas prezzie and logged onto my junk email account to check to see the order status since I used that email address. I logged on to 3,829 unread emails.

You read that right. Three Thousand (comma) Eight Hundred and Twenty Nine. Unread. Emails.

What is so cool though is that a big chunk of them can be swept away. I can checkmark an email address and hit the SWEEP button, and Hotmail (in a moment of divine genius) will automatically delete every one of the emails from that particular sender. Brilliant, I say! One particular email sweep automatically deleted 483 emails from the same sender.

Ahhhh life is good. I am currently down to 2,796 unread emails. It may take me a while to get them all, I can feel the boredom setting in - hence the stupid blog post.

;-)

Ugh

I've heard the song Hallelujah covered by practically everyone who sings. Last night it was sung on a Christmas special... its not a Christmas song as far as I'm concerned, but to each its own. Its depressing if you listen to the words.

But.. I still love it when its sung by the man. Leonard Cohen wrote it and nobody can sing it like he does.

Yay!

We have a winner (who wishes to remain anonymous).. so virtual cookie via email, I guess.

I'm told that the weird thing below is a weaving shuttle from an old loom and NOT a vagina (sorry Jess).

Thanks for playing!

What Is It??

This thing is hanging on the post right outside our back door. It is about 12 inches long and I am hoping someone out there might see it and can tell me what it is.

Anyone? Anyone?

I'll give ya cookie.....

Sprickets Everywhere!

When I lived in Savannah I had to tolerate Palmetto Bugs... gigantic cockroachy things that sneak in your house no matter how diligent you are about cleaning, no matter how much money you had, no matter where you lived. They were just there and you had to live with it (or do like me, get a dog whose greatest pleasure was killing them).

Here in Maryland we have Sprickets a/k/a Camel Crickets. I realize they are just weird looking crickets, but I was told they were part spider and that was enough for me.

They live in your house and there is nothing NOTHING that you can do about it. I was also told they bite, which makes it even creepier.

BUGS ARE TAKING OVER! And cats. Cats are taking over too. I think I shall go hide in my bedroom now.

Have Ya Ever.....

Had a friend that you knew was doing something that was so excruciatingly difficult for them to do, that you weren't sure they would go through with it?  Something that you personally didn't think should be that hard to do, but you never had to do it, so you just don't know. 

A very close friend of mine felt the need to do something that should have been done ages ago.  She was brave, she was honest, she did what had to be done and her family still loves her.  (Told ya.)

Well done Jess.  You make me proud. 

We will all dance at your wedding.  :-)

The Case of (da da daaaaa) The Missing Peanut Butter Fudge

I must brag on myself a little here. I make the best peanut butter fudge on the face of the planet (as well as mashed potatoes but that is a different story). Anyway, I made some peanut butter fudge for J's son to take to his wife's family's house for the holiday. There was a lot left so I put it in a green (yes green) container. That container has gone missing.

The last time I saw the container or the fudge was Thursday night, we were both propped up in our bed watching television and snarfing fudge. It has since disappeared.

J ain't talking.

I have ways to make him talk.

When asked where it was, he stared at me then said (in a tone.. he used a tone)- but he said, "its downstairs."

I'm downstairs now and I see no green container of peanut butter fudge anywhere.

Something sinister is afoot. I am on the case.

Update: The missing fudge has been located. No questions please. *hands over the camera*


Move along. Nothing further to see here.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am not a poet, but in honor of Thanksgiving Day I have been inspired to new heights of poetic inspiration.  Enjoy.

The Lament of the Unwashed Dishes

a poem, by Deb

Thanksgiving Day, a day of thanks and gratitude,

of turkey dinners and pumpkin pie,

of unbuttoned pants and family angst;

A day of love and honor and working together,

to enjoy a family meal.

As I walked into the kitchen my heart swelled 

with affection and gratitude that you had done the dishes the day before.

No dirty dishes in the sink to hinder my creativity.

But alas - 

alas.

Upon opening the dishwasher to remove a spoon it was discovered,

the horror.

You had not washed the dishes, you had piled them in the dishwasher.

Unrinsed.

You had not placed dishwasher soap in the soap bin.

You had not started the dishwasher.

The dishes.  They were dirty with last night's spaghetti.

They were coated with your extra helping of Chef Boyardee Ravioli.

The truth.  It was ugly.

Alas.

Another Thanksgiving Day. 

The End.

I hope this poem inspires you to help with the dishes. :-)

I Totally Did That!

I was skimming over old blog posts.   Believe it or not this blog has been around for 5 1/2 years, with my first post being on March 25, 2005.  Anyway.. I found a post that had the following paragraph in it, from September of 2005:

That almost makes me wish I had a life so I could have fun with it. I think I'll plan a solo vacation, to Scotland. I'll stay in a tiny bed & breakfast in a tiny town, and walk the back roads and explore the nooks and crannies, and have people laugh at my accent (or lack of one actually), find a nice, devastatingly handsome scot to have a holiday affair with, and then go quietly on my way, leaving him behind to pine for me.

Sounds like a plan. hehe

I realized that the bed & breakfast was a Holiday Inn in Glasgow, but I so totally did the above, and it was GREAT. I love it when my ridiculous fantasies come true. I wonder if he still pines for me. ;-)

Airport Xrays

I was wondering, with my knee in the sorry shape it is in, can I just book a cheap flight and go through the x-ray machine at the airport?  That would probably cost less than a doctor visit.

Maybe not.

I'm not sure how many people outside the U.S. is hearing about the furor over here with being x-rayed before a flight.  We can "opt out," but if we do we get the sexual assault treatment, which includes getting your man bits or lady bits felt up.  I dunno about you guys, but if us ladies were all that interested in smuggling something illegal through the security lines, we have a built in hiding place... pretty soon they will have their screeners checking that out as well.  Anyway, that is beside the point...

I've done a bit of research (about 2 minutes worth), and I came up with a couple of images for you to peruse.

I'm not sure about you, but this one above seems pretty damn explicit to me.  What the point of this is I have yet to ascertain.  And why is this image being released?  TSA claims the images aren't saved... if they aren't saved then I shouldn't have been able to find these images, should I?  I love how our government treats us like a bunch of wayward kindergarteners.  Tell us what they think we want to hear, true or not.. and hopefully we'll shut up and take our naps and leave them alone to further advance their agendas (do I sound like a conspiracy theorist?  I hope so, I always wanted to be one of those weirdos). 

This is an x-ray I found of shoe bombs.  I couldn't be bothered to read the entire article, but it is here on the TSA website, if you are interested.  Now this is technology I can understand.  Hollowed out shoes.  It has been proven and reported that there are idiots out there in the world that are trying to hurt us infidels.  By blowing off their feet on a crowded airplane.  I understand the x-raying of shoes and fully support it.  I take my shoes off without complaint when I go to fly somewhere.  In some weird way it makes me feel a little bit safer... but ...  x-rays of all my lady bits does not.  It makes me feel violated.

Baby Brother O'Mine works for one of the major airline carriers as a pilot.  I asked him what the policy on the x-rays and pat downs for the air crew is.  He says they were told by their union not to comply.    I just wish us regular folks had that choice.  As it is the only choice we have is to comply or don't fly.

I did find a link on the TSA website to another article that claims that 4 out of 5 Americans support the policies.  I call bullshit on that one.  Read for yourself.  Bullshit.

Later.

Another One.....

I guess you guys are getting tired of the complaining about my life posts, but some things are just too weird not to post so shut up, suck it up, and read this shit...

Bacon. It is not designed to be eaten raw. It is by nature a delicious treat, when cooked and all the nasties are removed from it, but unless you have something like this:

....  then eating raw bacon is a bad idea.  It can make you deathly ill, give you parasites and weird ass diseases, and according to an episode of House can give you tapeworm of the brain. 

Unfortunately for J's son, he never saw that episode.

Last night I went into the kitchen to cook dinner (nothing fancy, pancakes & bacon).  However, upon opening the refrigerator door and removing the package of bacon, it was discovered that the bacon was mostly gone.  The package was nearly empty.  I was taken aback...when did I cook that?  Did I sleep cook?  I don't remember smelling bacon cooking..  OMG I'm losing time I must have multiple personalities.  When did my other personality cook that bacon??

No.  Nothing so interesting.  J's son ate it. 

Raw.

As in uncooked.  He said he didn't know it had to be cooked.  He's 21 years old!  Hasn't his mother ever told him don't eat raw pork or chicken?  What the hell???

I was quite upset, not least because bacon is a helluva expensive item to buy these days, but because now I've got a 21 year old, 6'0" dude living under my roof that is going to get tapeworm of the brain, and I just know I'm going to be asked to change his diapers.

Things are definitely not going as planned.

Great Googly Moogly!!!

So I may (or may not) have told you about J's son now living with us. He's married, but nobody will take in him and his wife - I am pretty sure that the reasons being just their pure power to annoy the living shit out of everyone around them. Anyway, he is now staying with us. Our grocery bill has now tripled.

Example - last night we ordered one of those HUGE Pizza Hut Big Italy pizzas... along with 2 orders of bread sticks (when J asked my why I got two orders, I just said I would like to get one). So the pizza arrives, J gets a few slices, I get a few slices and I grab a package of the bread sticks, and he and I head down to the family room. Fast forward 30 minutes later with J's son hollering down could he have the other package of bread sticks. Since J and I had already split the other package, J told him yes, he could have them. We then went to go outdoors for a cigarette and passed by the EMPTY pizza box EMPTY!! This was a Big Italy, which, according to Wikipedia, is nearly 2 feet long! He ate the whole thing and then came back for the bread sticks!

Oh.MY. GAWD.. I can't even type that right I'm so amazed.

Then.. THEN... I get up this morning and wander through the kitchen thinking I might like a bowl of Captain Crunch cereal (I love that stuff). Actually it is the Malt-O-Meal brand but it tastes just as good. Anyway, last week we had bought the big gigantic bag of cereal (because we knew). That bag of cereal was approximately the size of a 20 pound bag of potatoes, it was a LARGE LARGE bag. I filled a cereal container with it and put it on the counter. Within 2 days it was half gone. So I refilled the container with what was left in the bag. I have had two (count em 2) bowls of my beloved Captain Crunch. But when I went in to fetch a bowl today was I able to get any? No. All that is left in the container is Captain Crunch dust. Taunting me.

He also ate my chicken that I had left over from our pub dinner the other night. Gone. Just gone.

*sigh*

Oh.. maybe I should put J's multiple containers of grits on the cabinet in the hopes that his son will snarf it up. I hate that crap.