Something to pass the time that's not alcohol related...

I'm getting ready to get on the road.
That's right folks!
I'm getting ready to leave for Maine!!!

Of course this is not going to happen without some difficulty.

My neighbor is being TOTALLY unreasonable and plans to have the HUMONGOUS tree in her front yard cut down while we are gone.
She's hired a complete RETARD to do it and he given me three sleepless nights because of it.



Ok...so maybe the guy above isn't a retard...just a reprobate...but the guy who's been hired to cut the tree down IS a retard.
If my house is destroyed while I'm gone, then the Goddess here is going to have to get very nasty.



If I do something that I can't get off on with an insanity plea, please send a cake with a dildo...maybe even a strap on. After all, I'm not going to be someone else's bitch in prison..I'll be calling the shots.

This Goddess is bad ass I'm telling you...

OK...well anyway. This is all I have for you today. I have a trillion things to do and I will be updating and reading blogs to the best of my ability.

Freya and the Caveman will be staying at my house so I suppose I could ask her to update for me, but she tends to be a pessimist and honestly she doesn't have the same twisted humor I do. In fact I don't think any of my children inherited it..

Damn...I might have to work on that...

LUVS!

Green stuff...

I'm really sorry.
I got nothing today.
Stress but other than that, nothing.

All I can think about it getting the hell out of town and heading toward a place where things are green and the sky is huge and there are people who love me...who miss me and who won't yell at me or ignore me or pick fights with me over stupid shit that doesn't matter.

I need to sit by the lake and drink my fill of things that make me happy and make me strong....



An entire year...that's how long it has to last me. It's been two since I was last home. Two long...very long and lonely years.

Next week at this time I will be feeling myself relax...I'll be feeling loved and cherished again...peaceful and safe.

Oh to feel like someone is taking care of me...that's a good feeling.

It would be nice if that feeling weren't such a stranger...

Alive.
Alive is the word I'm looking for.
I can't wait to feel alive.
Right now I am a robot, programmed for service and doing my best to make it happen.

Lush...thriving...welcoming...



Home...I just need to go home. It's been too long.

Salad shooters and alien abductions...

You learn a lot of interesting things about people when you spend a substantial amount of time around a large gathering..well...like at the ball field.

For example, I met a couple of new people over the weekend as I served slushies and lent them an ear.

One lady, who seemed very nice and very straight laced surprised me when she looked me up and down and asked me...



"Are you a stripper?"

"What the hell?"

"Well, you look familiar and that's where I thought I'd seen you before."

"Nope...mistaken identity."

As she walked away I'm thinking to myself,"Is there a strip club for people who like chubby chicks with stretch marks and floppy tits cause that's where I'D be dancing in MY birthday suit."

Then there was the guy who told me ALL ABOUT his alien abduction experience.
Yep...you heard me right....
He was abducted by aliens AND he told me that they all looked like the little green guy on Futurama...



His name is Kiff and yes...I am VERY proud to say that I am a Futurama fan.

ANYWAY..this guy went on to explain how he was abducted by aliens one weekend in the late seventies when he and some of his friends were camping near a little place called Peter's Creek here in West Virginia.
He said they'd been hanging out drinking and doing some acid..(NO! REALLY?)..when the sun turned into a space ship and these little green men climbed out of it and took him aboard. He said he doesn't remember anything about it after that but knows they probed him because his ass hurt.
(That's when I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.)

My guess?
They all got drunk and high and in the midst of the acid trip one of the other guys decided to find out what it felt like to commit sodomy on his spaced out friend.

Of course I nodded appropriately and interjected an occasional, "oh really?" or "wow" into the conversation but...you know...WHAT do you SAY to someone telling you something like this?
Honestly if it had been me telling the story I would have left out the part about my ass hurting the next morning.

And what's even more amazing is that I saw this guy walking around telling other people the same story...

Then a friend of mine who's a nurse told me about a man who'd come into the ER with a cucumber stuck in his ass.
That's not the funny part of it.
This guy is in his late sixties and apparently wanted to experiment but didn't want anyone to know what the cucumber was doing in his ass so he told the people in the ER that hid refrigerator blew up and the cucumber got lodged in his ass when it happened.

"OH MY GOD! MY REFRIGERATOR IS GOING TO BLOW UP! ASSUME THE POSITION!"



The term "salad shooter" just kept going through my mind.

There was an older guy there too wearing what appeared to be women's sunglasses.
Now if that's his thing, then I don't care. To each their own. I just didn't think it looked right on him. It didn't look good.
Now had he been wearing a tiara or something with them, then I think it might have worked for him, you know?



There was the hail storm from hell to contend with yesterday as well. It was crazy. The hail was the size of marbles and we tried to cram everyone beneath the shelter so they didn't get pounded. Or struck my lightening. The lightening was bad...it worried me.
Of course we survived and after an hour of working on the field and trying to clean up, we were still able to play ball the rest of the day.
I'll be heading back to the salt mines again today along with the rest of them. That's one thing I have to say...the majority of our board members have been over there working their asses off. It shows too because our fields and the facilities look pretty damn nice.

That's all I have today for ya...see you tomorrow.

Fessin up....

Maybe it's not apparent but there are quite a few days when I'm pretty miserable.
I deal with my misery using humor, so the funnier it is, the more shredded my insides are.

Of course there are the days when I try to look for something funny to take my mind off things and it just doesn't happen for me.

Today is one of those days.

Sometimes at the end of the week I feel like I'm buried in cement and the straws leading from my nostrils to my only oxygen supply are mangled and pinched. I try to catch my breath and I just can't.
Needless to say...I find some place to be alone and then I break down. Then after I've let it all out, I pick everything up again and cram it back inside and move on.

I think that cramming it all back is part of the problem...(Hey, at least I've figured that much out.)

How to fix it?

That's what I haven't figured out...so I write in here and it helps.

There was one guy I used to have on my blog roll who ridiculed me for saying that my blog was therapy.
At first I was hurt.
I know that sounds stupid, but I thought he enjoyed reading and for some odd reason I figured that since he read it, he liked me.
Hmmm...well I've since learned that that's not always the case.
Then I began to think about it...
What does he know about me?
He only knows what I choose to show him...along with the rest of you.

Most days I choose to show you the therapeutic side of me...that's where the humor comes from.
But there's a lot more.
I just don't give it away that easy...it's hard to open up that protective barrier I've built.
Who likes to do that anyway?
So don't sell the Goddess here short.
She's a pretty complicated woman.
Broken up and self-repaired...
An optimist...always hopeful that things will go her way eventually even though most of the time they don't....
A survivor...a mountain climber...reaching toward dreams that are literally so far away she can't even see them clearly anymore...climbing faster and harder as the distance widens...

Of course I need to be careful that my dreams aren't conjured out of air, lacking substance and reeking of self-destruction.

I wrote a poem once about that self-destructive nature we all possess. You know...longing for what we don't have or what we THINK will make us happier.. Of course I think it's human nature to be discontented no matter how contented we become. That unknown territory...it calls to us.

Bet ya didn't know I wrote poetry huh?

The Longing...

The longing
that sits like a rock in our soul
Ever present
no matter what we offer it
Weighs upon us all
and we carry the burden

We push it in front
Allowing it to direct our path
And we drag it grudgingly behind us
Allowing it to drain our strength

We find the rock lifted
from our soul on occasion
A temporary release
We set it free
Skimming it across the waters of happiness
Ripples of pleasure filling us

We lie to ourselves and say we are content
Knowing in time
The longing will return
Once the calm returns
And the water reflects a mirror of tranquility.

By T.F. 9-10-04

And there is a little part of what makes me who I am, in case anyone was wondering. The humor has to be fueled by something after all...

Back to the funny stuff Monday.

I am cheap but still top quality....

Ok.
So this is the LATE update I promised. I wouldn't have imagined that it would be almost midnight but you know...at least I'm here.

Those bastards at the field worked me like a cheap whore. When I got home tonight I was sticky in places that I've never been sticky before...(and we're talking about me here so that's pretty bad.)

What did they have me doing, you ask?

I was making slushies.

Yep...that's me. The Slushie Queen...

The kids go WILD over those things. It's like a brain freeze sugar rush and they thrive on it.
As if they're not wild enough already.

Then there are the mommies who look like they've been dragged behind the car all the way to the field who ask me in a hushed voice...."Do you have anything "special" you can put in there?"
Of course I can't but I sure as hell would love to...not only for their benefit but mine too.

A few curious dad's wander over to my table as well and ask me stupid questions like, "When you drink one of those does it make your nipples hard?" and " Do you like it when the blenders make the table vibrate?"

WTF?

You're at your kid's ball game for fuck's sake!!! Get the hell away from me you perv!!!

Dumbasses...

Anyway...the ball field and the people responsible held me hostage all day...keeping me from all of you.

I WILL return tomorrow...and with pictures. As for tonight's post...I'm too pooped and sticky to give a shit...

See ya tomorrow!!! LUVS!!!

Things are growing in my house and they're trying to eat me...

I was digging around in the fridge last night trying to lay my hands on a piece of cheese when I felt something wiggling up my arm...



It scared the shit out of me!
I tried to pull my arm back, out of the cold wiggly things grasp, but it wasn't letting go. So I grabbed the empty half gallon vodka bottle out of the recycling, and poked it and beat it, until it released my arm.
When I pulled my arm free, it was covered with a combination of black beans, pork chop gravy and mashed potatoes...

I realized that I was lucky to be alive and that some serious steps to ensure my safety and the safety of my family HAD to be taken...

I headed upstairs and dug frantically through my dresser. Finally I found what I needed...
I dressed carefully, preparing for the dangerous task ahead of me.
When I was done, I looked myself over in the mirror and decided that it was time to kick some cold wiggly ass!



Just don't you worry where I got the rubber suit from, ok?

So...I headed downstairs to tackle the refrigerator. I armed myself with bleach and rags and several heavy duty trash bags to contain whatever beasts I found wrangling through the crisper drawer.

I dragged the spotlight out of the garage and set it facing the fridge. Now I was ready to take it on baby!

I opened the door, switched on the spotlight and there was total mayhem! Wriggling gelatinous beasts flew through the refrigerator, trying to hide from the light!I sprayed the ones I could see with bleach cleaner and they shuddered and slid to the bottom of the fridge in the last throes of death.

I quickly salvaged what I could of the food, and threw the rest of the stuff away, poking the dead blobs before picking them up and putting them in the bag with the everything else.
Once the fridge was empty,except for the crisper drawer, where I KNOW those BIG son-of-a-bitches were hiding, I sprayed down the interior REALLY well and then closed the door.
I gassed those bastards in the crisper drawer and sat down to have a drink while they were writhing in pain, dying...DYING I TELL YOU!

It seriously made me want to whip someone, ok?

As I waited, I decided to watch a little TV. So there I sat, in my latex suit, drinking vodka and cranberry juice, watching the cutest little ideas on this craft show.

DAMN! It made me feel all domestic and stuff. I was almost giddy thinking about the adorable little crafts I could make to decorate my house. I mean, come on here...EVERYONE needs adorable little candle holders made out of polymer clay and beads....right?



I was totally hooked on this show, mesmerized by how many polka dots there were on this chicks little apron when I was jolted out of my Susie homemaker fantasy by a slimy "WHAP" to the side of my head.

Don't ya know it?

One of those little bastards wasn't dead all the way before I threw it into the garbage bag...

I slapped the damn thing repeatedly, practically giving myself a concussion while trying to get it off my head, and when we were both good and dazed, I peeled it off me, then stomped on it until it was ground up real good in the carpet.

FUCK!!!NOW I'LL HAVE TO CLEAN THE CARPET TOO!

I laid on my back and took a deep breath.

This is how Mr.Man found me....laying on the floor...in my latex suit...dazed and slightly drunk...with a mashed blob ground into the carpet.



"Tammie....you know I had to work late today. I'm tired Goddamit! I already ate supper so I'm going to bed."

Er....

Asshole! I don't understand how he would get the impression I was trying to seduce him because I'm cleaning the refrigerator!!! I just don't understand men!!!

Of course I wasn't going to let his shitty attitude distract me from my mission. There was still the crisper drawer to contend with.

I staggered into the kitchen and armed myself with a butcher knife, which I don't do very often because..well...do I really need to explain that one? Then I threw the refrigerator door open and pulled the crisper drawer out, only to be greeted by an enraged blob flinging itself out of the drawer and attaching itself to my face!



We wrestled to the floor!
I punched at it...it wouldn't let go!!!
I rolled around frantically...I was suffocating...I began to black out!!!!

So I bit it.

Hmm...is that Monterey Jack cheese I taste?...and salsa...

Anyway...the son-of-a-bitch let go and I smashed it into oblivion.
Then I threw the contents of the entire crisper drawer out and finished scrubbing the inside.
The damn thing gleamed....

So...now the fridge is clean...I am the winner and the entire household is once again safe from the evil of forgotten leftovers...

Yep...needless to say, I'm awfully damn proud of myself today. So what's next you ask? I'm not sure. I mean....I'm a blonde goddess damn it. Not a housekeeper! I'll deal with the next crisis when it happens ok?

I think I'm going to go look in the fridge again and gloat at my victory...see ya tomorrow.

My finger smells funny....

Am I the only one who woke up this morning with my finger smelling like my cooter? (Hmm...that's a loaded question isn't it?....

I had this INCREDIBLE dream about the Man Ranch and while it seemed very realistic in the whole sensation department it was just part of the dream right?

Of course if I did,'ahem', pet the kitty in my sleep, I'm sure Mr.Man didn't so much as move. Then man can literally climb in bed and sleep through anything...
Anything that happens in the bed, that is.
I could kick start a jack hammer and ride it across my side of the bed repeatedly and the man wouldn't blink an eye, but if I were to run the scratchy end of a pin across one of his powder horns, he'd fly out of bed like someone had stuck a hot poker up his ass.

I'm not even lying...

He called and got me up this morning.
I had decided to sleep in, mainly because I haven't been sleeping well at night, and he called to tell me I should get up and see if the grass needs cut.



I showed him my cooter smelling finger, even though he was on the other end of the phone....

Yep...I'm just a special woman, with special, special feelings of love for her man...



Hmmmmm......

Today is Elderly Hell Day and goddammit, I'm not going to be trapped in my own home on account of it. I'm going to go out and do what I want, when I want and where I want because it's high time I stop allowing these insane old ladies to punk my ass...

Besides...I'm really in the mood to fight and it can almost be guaranteed that some old hag will get in my face and start something with me...
I don't know though...I heard the old bats got a new personal trainer...



I might get my ass kicked...Damn old bitches...all hating on me like that...Elderly Hellions!

Of course I COULD stay home today. I do need to clean and wash clothes and whatnot...Hell...I could even watch TV.
I watched some TV last night in fact. After several hours it felt like someone had opened up the top of my skull and poured it full of cement.

I'm just not a TV person...

I like to read...and listen to music...sing...dance...act stupid...fart and drink...belch and scratch myself in moist places.



I find other things to do with my time besides watching TV. I just kinda skate through life...just being the me that I am...

It's hard for some people to understand me although I'm not sure why that is...

Anyway, I have to get off here and drink a pot or two of coffee. Then I've got business to take care of.



That's right! So shut up! They say you should never go to the grocery store when you're hungry. Well I say that you should never start your day when you're stressed!

Bastards!

LAME!

Mr.Man sat next to me Saturday morning calling around to the various tire places, trying to find me a tire for the old station wagon.
He cussed a blue streak and gave me dirty looks during the entire thirty minutes he was on the phone.
APPARENTLY no one had the tire we needed and they wouldn't have it until Monday.

That news, of course, gave Mr.Man a reason to be pissed at me. Yeah...I know...he was pissed at ME! Like I'm the fucking tire fairy or something and I "planned" the whole thing!



Of course it ended up that I called one of the tire places and got not only one new tire but three new ones to match the new one he'd put on my car Wednesday night...(which was also a bitchfest clusterfuck.)

I'll just tell you...he HATES having to do anything for me! Especially when it comes to my car. I'm not even kidding.

A guy I'm on the board with for Little League took a look at my car one day when we were at the field and told me to go home and tell Mr.Man to wash it and clean it for me.
That comment not only sent me into hysterical laughter but the other two women who were standing there are well. THEY know what Mr.Man is like when it comes to stuff like that.Hell...EVERYONE KNOWS!

On Friday night I decided that I was going to have a fun weekend and I was planning on it including Mr.Man.
So I drove over to the Rite Aid and walked into the store, giving the little boy behind the counter a pleasant smile. Then I walked into the liquor isle and picked out a half gallon of vodka. Then I made my way over to the condoms and chose an economy sized box of the ultra thins...

I walked up to the counter and set them in front of the little boy working there. Then I winked at him.
He blushed from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.
He couldn't look me in the eye and he stammered out every question..."Crrree-credit or deebbb-debit?"

HAHAHAHA! Poor kid. I guess if I'd been a decent kind of woman, I'd have thrown some other things in there like cold cream and dish detergent, but really...why buy shit you don't need just to make other people less uncomfortable? I only needed vodka and condoms...why buy anything else?

Of course it goes without saying that the box of condoms sits unopened and the half gallon of vodka has a substantial portion of it missing...

Mr.Man got me up early Sunday morning too. THAT really pissed me off.
He came into the bedroom and poked me in the asshole with his finger.
I mean, come on here! If you're going to poke me with something to wake me up, make it something fun, dammit!

OK...so I'm just bitchy because I stayed busy the whole weekend...got tires put on my car...cleaned the house...worked at the ball field...ran the kids...and didn't get into bed until after eleven every night.

Meh....

I did have a good time watching the Trailer Park Boys yesterday on YouTube. I watched the Phil Collins ones and laughed my ass off. This show absolutely wears me out. I laugh and laugh and laugh when I watch it.

"The Dirty Burger"...and his sonic belching had me in stitches.

I am SO crude...

Today I will be depositing Miss KIA back to camp. Last week she was a camper. This week she will be a counselor. It's a funny thing but when she's not here, things are so much quieter. I don't feel nearly as inept or stupid and the house stays somewhat calm.
My life isn't threatened daily as well...Normally this is how she greets me each morning...



Miss KIA...I love that child...the questions is...does she love me?

I think it's my lack of structure that bothers her...hell it's my lack of organization...responsibility...seriousness...etc...
It's because I'm not OCD that makes her think I'm the enemy. She just doesn't understand me. We come from two different planets...

I have to get off here. There is a crisis. A girl fight is growing out of control...It's over make-up or earrings or some crap like that...

I gotta go...

Sweaty hamburgers and flat soda...mmm...mmm..GOOD!

So yesterday was one of THOSE days.
Yep...I just couldn't get my head around all the cocksuckery abounding in every direction...

Sometimes humor can't fix it and yesterday was one of THOSE days...

But today is different. I have a whole new attitude about it.

"Fuck it."

That's the attitude...

Today I'd like to tell you about Stans.There has always been two places other than Nana and Pa's house that have been a constant in my family's lives.The good old American Legion (where ALL of our anniversary bashes and parties have taken place) and a run down shack called Stans.

Stans was literally a condemned building, ready to fall in on itself. It had been this was for DECADES! I'm not even shitting you.
Of course that didn't stop every idiot Swede(and everyone else within miles of it)from stepping inside to grab some breakfast or lunch and some local gossip.
It was THE place to be if you were at the lake. Lake Man frequented the place more often than anyone else in my family and probably purchased the greatest majority of his meals from Stans.
The guy who owned the store(Stan)lived there with his parents who purchased the ramshackle place back in the 60's from the original owner who opened the store and rental cabins back in the early 1900's.
If I'm not mistaken, I believe they bought the place with all of the original inventory and to my knowledge I don't think they so much as cleaned the place or did anything to it when they bought it.
And it was in sad shape.
The whole store was dingy...dark..with a low ceiling. The windows were warped and the screens rusty. Inventory was piled in corners and stuff hung everywhere. The shelves were crammed with things in boxes covered in dust.

If you wanted a special birthday card for someone that NO ONE else would be giving them?



You could find it at Stans where it had originally been sold when it first came out fifty years earlier...LOL

How about some of that cool hair pomenade the drugstore stopped carrying?



Yep...Stans...He probably had a couple cases of it on a shelf somewhere....

If it was OLD and OUTDATED Stan's carried it.

He was a grizzled old dude,a little on the chubby side who always had a twinkle in his eye. He reminded me of a mix between Grizzly Adams and Santa.



And it is UNCANNY how much this picture I found looks like him...wow.

The store sat on the shore midway between the end of the road that nearly circled the lake so it was became a make shift meeting place for all the residents, complete with mailboxes for everyone.
You could even buy gasoline from an old fashioned pump that still worked. It was cool as shit too...

He had a small kitchen in the back where he cooked breakfast or hamburgers and hotdogs.
Not just any kind of hotdog either...

RED hotdogs...the kind of thing you'd want to have if you were cracking open a bottle of Moxie and tearing open a bag of Salt and Vinegar chips.



NUMMY!!!

My friend Paul and I would spend summers at the lake, swimming and wreaking havoc. The Lutheran church I attended always had some kind of activity going on right there at Stan's, mainly because two of the youth leaders had a camp right across the street from Stans.

I always love going in the store and thought it was the neatest place around.
The old damp smell of wood and coffee lingered in the air. Dusty shelves hid boxes of treasures and made it a great place to hang out and investigate...
There were boxes of fancy embroidered hankies to go through...playing cards with the Little Rascals on them...view masters..the OLD kind...with pictures of Niagara Falls and Mount McKinley in Alaska...
Once we even found old hat boxes,with several hats from the fifties in them and tried them on.
Stan would just laugh at us...he was really a good hearted man. He definitely didn't have a problem with anyone looking through his stuff. And in the event that someone might find something they wanted still marked 25 cents, he'd always ask them what they thought would be a fair price. He wasn't a greedy man at all and fair almost to the point that's he'd practically give things away.
To my knowledge he was the only place that still served 10 cent coffee up until the place closed several years ago. That was one of the things people always said about Stans..."Home of the 10 cent cup of coffee."

If Paul and I grew tired of looking for treasure then there was always some thing else to entertain us...playing cards or listening to music. There was always someone sitting around playing hearts and cribbage.
We"d sit in these red leather booths that Stan had picked up when they closed the Tastee Freeze and watch everything. The booths sat along the wall in the back, up against the windows so you could look out onto the lake while you ate or played cards.
Actually Stan's is where I learned how to play cribbage. Old Pokey Peterson taught Paul and I how to play one afternoon. The the rain came pouring out of the sky in torrents and we were forced out of the lake and into Stans.
We listened to the rain dance on the roof while a cool breeze blew in through the screened windows.Mr.Johnson and Mr.Sjoberg played swedish polka music on the guitar and accordian...and we learned how to play cribbage.

How odd that I can remember it so clearly...just like it was yesterday. I can almost taste the hamburgers and salt and vinegar chips...taste the strawberry Brunswick soda...nice memories.

Of course all good things must come to an end...
When we got older, Paul mentioned something one day that forever turned me off from eating hamburgers at Stans. He said, "Have you ever noticed how Stan will stand with his hands tucked in his armpits?"
I replied."Yeah."
Then Paul said," Have you looked at his armpits?"
I looked...



ARMPIT SWEAT!!! TONS OF IT!!!

So Paul looks at me and asks me, "Have you ever thought about Stan, standing around with his hands tucked in his armpits and then stepping in the back to slap together a nice juicy hamburger to throw on the grill?"

Of course I HADN'T thought about but from that day forth, I never touched another one of Stan's hamburgers...

It's too bad really because I'm sure it wouldn't have killed me. God..I can't imagine the shit that we eat every day we're not even aware of. And quite honestly, I miss Stans.

Like I said...it was a place my family always went to when everyone was home. I went there as a kid..as an adult and even when I'd go home to visit after I moved to West Virginia.
Every fourth of July it was a meeting place for everyone to watch fire works go off. They'd take the fireworks and set them off in the middle of the lake. It was always such a beautiful sight..the reflection of the fireworks on the water...

There'd be music..food...drinking..boating...just lots of fun. You'd get a chance to see everybody and get caught up with the goings-on in town.

Yep...Stans...
He finally got too old to take care of the place so he sold it. A couple of younger guys bought it, thinking they'd fix it up and make it into a bar and restaurant. Of course before they tore the place down, they didn't bother to check into the zoning laws and discovered too late that they couldn't construct a new building on the property bordering the shoreline.

So now there is nothing where Stans used to be....

Well that's all I've got for your today.

Yesterday was shitty, but you know what they say about that...."When things get shitty, put on your waders and muck your way through it."

And let me tell you what. I make wearing waders damn sexy so don't you forget it...



That's right! Don't hate me cause you ain't me!

IN case I don't make it back tomorrow, have a great weekend! See ya Monday!

Some questions are better left unanswered?...er...perhaps.

Today I would like to direct your attention to dear old Moog's page...."Mental Poo". He was so kind as to answer that burning question that has plagued me for years concerning the "man poops" and why men are so prone to go home when the urge to purge their bowls hits.

Anyway, he answered my question very informatively and who'd have thought that pooping and boners would be connected?



"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SIT DOWN WITH THIS THING STICKING UP IN THE AIR?"

So THAT'S why Mr.Man is fine with pooping at work!!!
There's no chance of him getting attacked by a horny woman-beast while he's sitting on the shitter at work, is there?

DAMN HIM!!!

Moving right along now, I'd like to introduce a few more of my family members today.
Remember Upsma? Well today I'd like to write about her younger sister Goldie.
Why Goldie, you ask?
Well..first of all, Goldie looks like Goldie Hawn.
I'm not even shitting you.
When Goldie was younger she looked exactly like Goldie Hawn did on Laugh-In.



She still looks almost the same in spite of being right around 60 years old.

Goldie is an incredible woman. She is one of those people you're drawn to immediately. She is so full of life! Her self-confidence amazes me and when she puts her mind to something,even if she's never done it before...she can do it, making it seem effortless. Most importantly, she lives her life to the fullest. She lives every day like it's the last day she's going to be here. If she feels like being creative, she creates. If she feels like partying, she parties (and yes Tiff, party is a verb in my family..lol.)
She's not a tiny woman...she's tall and busty and has hips..(she wears a size 12 like me)...but she's very comfortable in her own skin. She's sexy and men are drawn to her without even realizing it.
She will cry or laugh or sit alone and be quiet worrying giving any thought to what anyone else thinks about it.

I want to be like Goldie when I grow up...seriously.

Goldie was married to an asshole who left her for a 26 year old whore, but we won't hash that out here...(having shitty luck with dudes seems to be one thing I DO have in common with Goldie...)

They had two daughters together....

The oldest daughter we will call...Steffi.
Steffi is several years younger than me. She is a beautiful woman in her own right, very athletic...favoring her father's side of the family.



She and I hung out together as kids, but she never had that wild streak in her. She wouldn't try out those dangerous things like I did. If I jumped off the top of the boat house into the lake, she'd scream that I was going to break my legs. When I made a fire in the woods so we could toast marshmallows, she screamed that I was going to burn down the forest.

Very cautious...I'm thinking she picked up that from her dad's side of the family.

Her younger sister favored Goldie more and when I was trying to think of whether she favors anyone celebrity-wise, I realized that she's a dead ringer for Sienna Miller...



She is one gorgeous woman. In fact, she modeled for awhile in New York until she decided she'd rather camp out and paint houses so she could write poetry and take pictures....

Yep...true stuff.

Sienna is a free spirit. While Steffi went to college and got her degree, Sienna worked at Wal-Mart and went out clubbing every night...making just enough to get by. She spent several summers on Nantucket, working as a waitress by day and sailing on schooners by night with new friends.
She spent an entire summer, camping out on the old homestead, doing odd jobs and taking photographs of the trees and insects and bears...



Oh yeah...and Moose. Let's not forget about the Moose.

Sienna is honestly the most unruffled, unconcerned person I've ever met. She's very pleasant and can be fun when she lets loose a little bit, but she's pretty wrapped up inside her own world, inside her head...

Kind of reminds me of my own Veggie Stick a lot...except Veggie Stick will come out of her shell and be a social butterfly once in awhile.

When we were little kids, the adults left us all alone together, with The Ringo Kid in charge. Usually my little brother and Chili would hang out and do their own thing. The Ringo Kid would torment us, until Sgt.Rock would suggest we play guns or something fun to distract him.
This would leave us with a problem...
Sienna was too small to play guns with us.
What would we do with Sienna?

Steffi...(yes cautious Steffi)...decided that we could lock Sienna in the bathroom.

So into the bathroom Sienna went...while we played guns.

Normally, you'd think that a six year old would be VERY upset at being locked in the bathroom. But Sienna would spend hours, locked in the bathroom, singing to herself or painting her toenails with everyone's toothbrushes and toothpaste...humming away like all was well with the world.



I once saw Sienna sit and do nothing but stare out at the lake for two hours straight...it sometimes makes me wonder if the lights are on but no one's home...

Of course I know that's not the case. Sienna is a very resilient person. She almost seems ethereal...untouched by everyone and everything...

Steffi is married now, with three kids of her own.She's got a career and a house on the cape and a land rover in the garage. She seems happy with her magazine perfect life but occasionally it seems as though she's going to have a nervous breakdown...like when her kids are all jumping off the roof of the boathouse into the lake and starting fires in the woods...LOL. But I've noticed that beer...LOTS and LOTS of beer helps keep her calm. She does get ONE of our family traits I guess...



Sienna was married, for a short time. They didn't have children and after a few years he decided it wasn't working out. She made the comment that he told her he didn't really know who she was....which seems like a logical and completely honest explanation. The whole thing made me sad for her....she seemed sad about it all too which was unlike her...that was one of the few times in her life that she seemed affected by anything in a negative way.

So...there are a few other members of my family. At this rate you should be well acquainted with everyone before I go home to visit.

My family is such a mish-mash of personalities that I don't think I realized it before having to write about it. I just took it for granted...took them and their unique individualities for granted...

I sure am glad I decided to do this. It's given me a whole new appreciation for them and who they are...

I'll see ya tomorrow....

The Beerickson's, boozing cousins of the Goddess

I wanted to get started today with an award I made up all by myself. After yesterday's post all I could think about was Ron's comment and it kept me laughing to myself all damn day.
What'd he say that was so damn funny?
Well...after talking about the "Republuvicans' and the 'Dickocrats', he remarked that he thought he was an 'Independick.'
Very witty...very witty indeed.
And then I got thinking....there are a lot of people who comment on my blog who are witty.
SO...I made up this very special little award just for me to give out to people who make a witty comment that keeps me laughing all day long. I'm sure it'll get around to everyone who reads because there have been some pretty funny comments in my comment section.

Ron! This one's for you!



Seriously, Ron's wit is not confined just to his comments. Check out his blog. You'll find him over there on my blog roll....

Today I decided to skip over to the other side of the family. Mainly because one of the "Beericksons" called to talk to Mr.Man over the weekend.

The Beericksons are my cousins on my Nana's side of the family. There are five of them. Four boys and a girl. While I wasn't really that close to them when I was a kid, as soon as I was old enough to drink everything changed...

They're all older than me, with the youngest one being four years older than me.
The oldest boys all have names beginning with "G"...so for the sake of anonymity, I'll refer to them, oldest to youngest, as Goofy,(thusly named because he is tall and lanky like Goofy on Walt Disney), Gravy, (because this cousin can EAT and next to drinking, it's his favorite activity) and Golfer (because he is addicted to sports and especially golf, plays every day in fact). The daughter, who is next in line, I shall refer to as Pukey and this is because I have never been anywhere with her when she has not puked on herself or someone else. The youngest boy, who's name begins with an "R" I shall call "Ruby", because he is the only one with red hair like his father, the rest are all brunettes like their mother.

The Beericksons are the drinkingest bunch you'll ever meet in your life. I think it's safe to say that if you placed every beer bottle or can they've emptied side by side you would be able to circle the earth with them seven or eight times.



My relationship with the Beericksons became a closer one when they realized I could drink. We were all at a baseball game with them. There was some discussion about where to go after the game so they could drink. Several bars in town were open and a couple of restaurants that serve liquor too. It was decided that we'd head over to the bowling alley after the game so we could drink, order pizza and bowl a few games.

Thus the close relationship began...

That was the first time I saw Pukey in action. She consumed three slices of pizza and at least three pitchers of beer...by herself...in a matter of a couple hours. As we were walking into the parking lot, she hurled down the back of Gravy's shirt, who was too drunk to really understand what had happened. The other boys laughed and poured beer on Gravy, trying to get the chunks off his shirt before he climbed into Golfer's truck.

Crazy...I'm telling you right now.

Since that first night, I have seen more of them all than I ever though possible.

There was the time that Ruby passed out and they stripped him naked, carried him out of the hotel room and placed him on the sofa in the lobby, face down, with "ENTER HERE" written in red lipstick on his ass.
This was at one of the baseball tournament weekend trips we'd gone on....

They stripped Gravy down one night after he'd been the first one to pass out and wrote "Free Pet Worm To A Good Home" on this belly with an arrow pointing south and laid him in the parking lot of the camping ground we were staying at.

There was the time that Goofy and Golfer decided to put on a couple of Golfer's wife's bikinis and put on a fashion show for the rest of us. The grand finale was when Pukey not only crowned Goofy the winner, but also threw up her Crown Royal Canadian whiskey and coke down the front of his bikini bottoms.

We all got thrown out of a Chinese restaurant after 27 Volcano bowls (gee I wonder why?)but we were all too drunk to walk back to the hotel, so a pizza delivery guy too pity on us and made two trips with us back to our rooms. Pukey threw up on the trunk of his car. Then she flashed her boobs at him and said that it should more than make up for the mess...staggering into the hotel with her shirt still up over her head.

The Beerickson's are quite a group to hang out with.

Camping trips with the Beerickson's?
Well...living in northern Maine where the black flies are big enough to carry a toddler off, camping out is an experience that requires a certain amount of responsibility.

Responsibility and the Beericksons are like mixing water and oil...

We camped out one Memorial Day weekend at the river.
It was nothing more than a drunk fest.
We left on a Friday and set up camp. I vaguely remember a camp fire and laughing at Pukey being afraid that BigFoot would abduct her in her sleep. Saturday we had a big breakfast, did some swimming, fishing and canoed a little, then began drinking. The rest is a blur of laughing and staring at the fire. When we woke up Sunday morning, most of us were COVERED in black fly bites. We had welts all over the place.No one actually slept in the tent. We all passed out around the fire. Pukey's hair was matted on one side of her head with vomit...her trademark of course.Gravy had a blood sucker attached to his left nut. He screamed like a girl when he sobered up enough to realize what was going on. I can still remember Ruby laughing until he pissed himself, rolling on the ground, crying and choking from laughing so hard.
It was Golfer and Goofy's job to get the blood sucker off Gravy's nuts. Gravy screamed the entire time getting even louder when he saw them both come at him with a lighter and a salt shaker.
I still don't remember how they got it off him exactly but I can remember how hard we all laughed at the whole thing...good times...

Wow...

I didn't do much in the way of picture illustrations today, mainly because there is no need to illustrate the Beericksons. They are plenty colorful enough without pictures.

And yes...there will be stories about them when I get back from Maine this summer. Goofy called Mr.Man last night to make sure we'd be at two big bashes their planning while we're up there...

I'll be back tomorrow....

Ok...I freakin give up! I'm here goddammit!

I wasn't going to write in here today.
Truth be known, I'm feeling kind of pissy.
Yeah...that's a shocker ain't it?



The last hour has been something that closely resembles a Tourette's convention and it's all due to the member of the human race that has those dangling things between their legs.



If I could only figure out how to get one, minus the dude, and make it work when I want it to....those plastic and gel imitations just don't do the trick ok?..I don't know. Maybe I like the whole package but why can't I find a guy who's had a lobotomy? Just pop a couple of sedatives in him and guide him through the experience...I know what I like and I'm not afraid to 'splain' it to him.Maybe I could even invent one of those collar type deals that trains the man to get his boys up and ready to party...



It's works to keep dogs in the yard. They call it an invisible fence. I could call it the invisible 'cock-rocket launcher'...

You see,It's like this...and I'm NOT even fucking exaggerating...

MEN!
The dick says, "Hell Yeah!"...so the heart says..."Just wait one freaking minute here."

The heart is VERY skeptical.
The dick is all willy nilly...no pun intended.

They are in complete disagreement almost all of the time! You might as well call them the 'Republuvicans' and the 'Dickocrats'.

GODDAMMIT! THEY CAN'T AGREE ON ANYTHING!!!



If the 'Republuvican' decides that he's fallen for someone, the dumbass 'Dickocrat' isn't going to have any part of it!!!

AND...

If the 'Dickocrat' is getting a stiffy for someone, then that lame-assed 'Republuvican' will definitely NOT consider that someone as a candidate worthy of consideration.

That's my take on the whole man thing.

They love you..their dick won't work.
The fuck ya...their heart won't work.

THAT'S SOME PRETTY MESSED UP BULLSHIT!

In other news...there are some pretty flowers growing in my yard. I smelled them immediately when I stepped outside. The fragrance was wonderful until the smell of Mr.Man's BURNING FLESH FROM THE FIRE PIT PERMEATED THE AIR!!!

Ok..so I didn't set him on fire. He doesn't deserve my angst. He's an independent most of the time and honestly, even though he's registered a 'Dickocrat', he does have a few "Republuvican' tendencies.

'Dickocrats' are wide open. They feel things in a big way and are generous..(as long as it suits their agenda....)They wear their feelings on their sleeve and fly by the seat(crotch?) of their pants with not much thought for the long term...just taking care of business for right now.



"But don't you love me? I can't sleep with a man who doesn't love me!"
"Sure I love you baby. Now hurry and take your dress off.I've only got five minutes before the game comes back on."

'Republuvicans' are more closed up to the world. They are fickle and self-preserving more so than the 'Dickocrats.'It takes a lot to convince them to give something away, especially if they can't expect anything in return. Taking chances is NOT a 'Republuvican' trait and neither is generosity.



Wow. You're amazing.That was so incredible.Don't you want to hold me now?"
"Yeah...yeah...it was good for me too.No more touching ok? I need to go trim my nose hair so I'll call you sometime instead."

Now before some of you real political people get your panties all wadded up...remember...I'm not talking about politics here.

I'm talking about men's hearts and men's dicks.



"Hmmm...my dick sure is a randy little bastard isn't he? Just look at him go!I think I'll sit back and see where he takes me."

That's all I've got right now. I'm preoccupied with crap and slightly stressed out. So you know what that means, right?

I'm going to clean...

Shut up! It's ONE of the ways I deal with stress. The OTHER way is not available to me right now so I'm doing what it takes to keep me out of jail.

I'll be back tomorrow with more family introductions.

My love life...rocket launcher ammunition needed.

I'm taking a break from writing about my family.
I still have time to introduce all of them but honestly I need a break from thinking about it...it's my family for Christ's sake.
I love them but they make me crazy!

Today I will talk about my love life...that should be interesting enough...AND besides...that is what's on my mind today.

My fucktastic love life.



That's right. Don't be hatin because it's more excitin than yours....

For some reason I always pick men who loves themselves more than they love me.

The man I love gets this from me....



And in return he give me this...



I have ALWAYS managed to walk into a room of perfectly normal looking men and if given the choice between the considerate, generous, affectionate guy and the unmotivated,self-absorbed disinterested guy...you KNOW I'm going to head straight for door number two!

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???

I can't help but wonder if there's some kind of little Tinker Bell from Hell that whispers stupid shit in my ear every night when I'm sleeping like...
"You don't deserve to be treated nice."
"A guy isn't worth it unless you have to beg for his affection."
"Just because he blows you off all the time, doesn't mean he's not into you."

I think I pissed this little fairy off when I was a kid, destroying it's little hovel when I stopped to take a shit in the woods one day and it's followed me ever since, placing a curse on me so I'll never get anything but the fucking leftovers!!!!

I WANT A GOURMET MEAL GODDAMMIT!!!

Some women I know are in complete control of their men. They treat them like shit...give them the cold shoulder and lead them around on leashes. They talk to them like DOGS! Hell...they treat them like dogs!



I would NEVER do that to my man. He doesn't deserve that kind of disrespect. My God! And the head games! What does that accomplish?
But you know what?
These guys worship these bitches!
Am I a fucking retard here?
What the hell am I missing?
I don't get it.

Of course I'm not getting it so it's fucking obvious I'm not getting it!!!!

WHAT THE FUCK!!???!!!

It just makes me want to get out my rocket launcher and caps someone's ass!!!!



"What's that? You can't even spare ten minutes to talk to me?" Ok then mothahfuckah..."

I don't know...
I mean I could see him not wanting to spend time with me if I was a bitch. Or if I was a bitch and someone had beat me with an ugly stick. OR if I was a bitch, butt ugly and a slut with ten STDs....

But I'm nice.
And I'm fun.
And I swallow.

Goddammit! There's no reason on this God's green earth what the son-of-a-bitch shouldn't want to be with me and talk to me and allow me to repeatedly molest him!!!!

UNLESS....

He's interested in someone else.



Nah...

He's too fucking lazy. If it requires any effort then forget it.

I'm just disgusted today.
And lonely...
And sober...
And I don't like it. Not one damn bit.

Oh yeah...I found this retro advertisement for coffee and I thought it was interesting. Not that it has anything to do with this post of course. I just thought it was something fun...



(If I get caught don't bring me a cake with a file in it. For God's sake, put a dildo in it instead...)