Stiff socks and them ain't balloons....

One lazy summer day in the mid seventies when it was really too hot to be outside and there was no way for us to go swimming, Helly, Warrie, Beachy and I all decided to "investigate" Gaylen the Dead's bedroom.
It's not like we hadn't gone through his things before. We knew about his pot stash and his porno mags and we even knew about the hunting knife with dried blood on it that was stuck beneath his mattress.
AND the socks.
There must have been a hundred socks, dried and crusty,practically standing up on their own, thrown beneath the bed.


Yuck....they were NASTY!

You'd think that a dude like Gaylen the Dead would have been a messy kind of guy, but surprisingly enough, his room was not that bad and it didn't even stink (like Brainerds room did). Maybe it was the incense he burned while getting high. I still enjoy the smell of incense to this day...
Gaylen the Dead would lay on his bed,turn on his black light and look at this one particular poster that hung directly across from him.


He'd light up his joint and listen to the Doors,The Grateful Dead or Led Zeppelin and get high.

Yep...we were experts on the habits of Gaylen the Dead, so we pretty much knew what to expect.

ON this particular day, we discovered something new in his room. Something that took us by surprise and rocked the very foundations of our little girl lives.

Let me explain....

Helly had designated our search places. Warrie was looking through the closet, Helly in the dresser, me looking through the nightstand while Beachy had gotten stuck with searching under the bed (with the nasty dried up cum socks).She'd refused to give Helly one of her Reese's Cups the day before and Helly held grudges.

We hadn't really discovered anything new or great. Yeah, Warrie had found a crumpled up fiver in a pair of jeans that we would use to go buy junk food at the general store up the street, but that was our only good find.
Until Helly tried to pull the bottom drawer out of the dresser and it became stuck.
"I think something is blocking it. Let's pull the whole drawer out." she said.

Warrie and I held the back of the dresser while Helly and Beachy pulled and tugged on the drawer.

"Jackpot!" Helly yelled as she reached in behind the drawer and pulled out baggie full of small packages. She pulled one of the packages out and opened it.Helly and Warrie laughed.
Beachy and I were confused.
"What is it?" Beachy asked innocently.
It looked like a long skinny balloon to me.(Hey, we weren't even 12 years old yet. We didn't know what it was.There were no condoms in the porn mags...)



Helly and Warrie were kind enough to explain what the "balloons" were for and even got out a porn mag to show us what it went on. We all contemplated this discovery and then Helly realized something.

"Gaylen the Dead is having sex with someone!!!", she screamed.

"EWWWWW!!!", we yelled back.

Now let me explain something about Gaylen the Dead. He wasn't the kind of dude that girls were standing in line to fuck.



He just didn't SEEM to really know what was going on. The thought that he might actually KNOW how to fuck, let alone find someone desperate enough to fuck him was quite unsettling. We were shocked that he would have condoms, let alone USE them.

As disgusted as we were, we decided to find out who the girl was that was stupid enough to let Gaylen the Dead fuck her AND (Helly added) maybe if we were lucky we could actually catch them in the act.

(to be continued...)

Angel or Devil? Maybe a little of both, huh?

The rain destroyed the multiple penised and breasted snow thing in the back yard. And I didn't even get pictures of it first.
Damn bad luck!
I was informed, however, that the girls made a giant snow penis in the front yard and took pictures of it before it melted.
(You'll remember that I told them to keep it in the backyard, right?)
Yeah...well they thought it would be FUNNY to build a giant snow penis in the front yard on top of the concrete bench in the flower garden so EVERYONE could see it as they went by...(or from behind the curtains of their windows..can you say Jesus Police neighbors?)
Veggie Stick took a picture of it in order to show me what they had done and allow for many, many more days of laughter and hysterics on her part and Miss KIA's...not to mention their friends.

What am I going to do with those two?

I can honestly say that I was really an angel as child.
Look! I have proof!



Sweet and innocent....just sitting quietly in bed reading my little Golden books (which I still have by the way).
How much more angelic can a little girl be?
I was the most angelic child on the planet!

It wasn't until I turned 6 that I began to change a little bit.
That's when I met "Helly" and my life changed.



A picture of me and Helly sitting on the bed in my room. We had probably just finished setting something on fire in the back yard.

Helly taught me ALL about the fun stuff in life. She was the one who had older siblings and they educated her about all the good stuff in life. You know...sex, drinking, drugs, pyromania, etc...

Helly and I ended up DOING a lot of bad things but never getting caught for it. Instead we always managed to blame "Brainerd" who lived across the street from us with our friends, Warrie, Beachy and Way..Way. The names mean something to me but only because I associate with their real names and their personalities. I'll fill you in on those things another day....

Here's a picture of us....



From the front row left to right...Way..Way, Beachy,me, the Blonde Goddess and Helly. In the back, left to right...Corvette (our other neighbor across the street),Brainerd and Warrie. This picture is from one of the first days at school..not sure which year...maybe 2nd grade? Special, huh?

Yep. This was the "gang" that the Blonde Goddess here hung out with as a kid. While there were the wild cousins and that bunch to get in trouble with, this was the starting kit for most of my bizarreness.

Brainerd and Corvette weren't usually involved in our scheming and plotting, mainly because Corvette was sick a lot and had to stay in. Brainerd always got the blame for everything we did, so he stayed clear of us....

We were inseparable!



Just so you know, Helly probably didn't have a stitch of clothing on underneath that blanket...LOL

One of the most prominent things that I remember from my younger days is when we pulled all of Helly's older brother's Pot stash and dirty magazines out and set them on fire in the yard. Her brother "The Gaylen Dead" was a long haired, pimply faced 18 year old who kept to himself and stayed stoned all the time. He had a HUGE collection of porn which we looked at with both awe and disgust (Helly was always trying to convince us to "try" some of the things in the books, especially the girl on girl action but I wasn't buying into it.)
The particular day that Helly decided to destroy her brother's happiness in a firey pit of funny smelling smoke, he had made fun of her lack of breasts and it was just enough to send her over the edge.

I vaguely remember Helly being concerned about The Gaylen Dead trying to kill her in her sleep, but I don't remember her dad really saying anything about it. Her mom had died of cancer when she was little and her dad was pretty oblivious to everything going on around him.

Helly's older sister, Ramona the Great, kept the house and took care of everyone while getting straight A's in school. Ramona the Great ended up going to school and becoming a doctor. Sadly, she died of cancer in her early forties too, just like her mother.

You know, there's something about sitting in front of a keyboard to conjure up memories of your past and bring them to life again.
I hadn't thought about Helly for a while and the antics of Veggie Stick and Miss KIA made me think of some of the things Helly and I and the gang had done as kids.

Hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane as much as I did.
It was a good way to start the day.

I'll be back with more stories about the "gang" tomorrow...

I'd make a good breeder....

Yesterday Miss KIA called me from school and informed me that she had to go home with a classmate in order to work on a group project.
No problem on my part. In fact I always welcome an opportunity to not have to go sit at the high school and wait on her and Veggie Stick. They take FOREVER to get out to the car...(except on the days I'm running late, then they're always miraculously ready.)
ANYWAY, I got directions from Miss KIA and realized that I had never been out in the area she needed me to pick her up at.
Although I wasn't terribly worried, I left a little early so I could find her friend's house.

I drove down past the high school and turned off on the various roads she'd told me to...(everything was well marked) and then I turned off onto the 3rd road on the right(as she instructed me because they weren't marked.)

THAT'S when the trouble started.
Now I'm not being mean or stereotyping West Virginians cause I've seen this same set up in northern Maine where I used to live, but this hollow was a trash dump for cars, trucks, sheet metal, trash, dead dogs...etc.
I'm sure you get the picture...



As I'm driving further and further out I begin feeling a teensy,weensy uneasy because I'm not recognizing ANY of the landmarks she gave me. So I decide to turn around.
THIS,considering the area, is no easy feat. Most of the driveways are winding up the side of the mountain where the people living there have a turn around area next to their house. The road is too narrow AND the opposite side of the road is sitting shockingly close to a stream or a twelve foot or more drop off.
There is no way I'm going to be able to turn this station wagon around on the road.

I finally come to a semi-straight, semi-flat driveway. I pull in and begin backing out onto the road. As I turn toward the passenger side I can see that everything is clear. I turn back to the driver's side and I'm confronted with an exposed beer belly pressed up against the window(and yes, it was cold yesterday).



Wow. That's a big one. 52 inches perhaps?

Apparently old Junior that lived at the top of this driveway didn't "appreciate" me turning around in it. He came down to "investigate" things.

Dear God in heaven, strike me dead before he pulls me out of the car and molests me!!!

I wasn't really sure what to do. I didn't have anything in the car that I could bribe him with. I don't chew snuff and I can't carry beer after that carpooling the kids to All-County practice "incident".



(I tried to tell them it was a crash helmet but they weren't buying it.)

What in God's name was I going to do?

He yelled for me to "Put down yer winder" but there was NO FUCKING WAY THAT was going to happen.

I sat there for a minute, looking at him and he looked pretty pissed off. He started towards a shed and went in, emerging with a shovel and headed back toward me like the hair in the crack of his ass was on fire.

I tried my cell phone but I had no service.



OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO DIE!!!!

He motioned for me to roll my window down again and I figured that maybe If I was lucky, he'd just knock me out with the shovel and haul me to the barn for breeding purposes. I'm not a bad looking woman. I know how to DO THINGS, you know?

So I rolled the window down and smiled at him.


He looked me over and then spit a gob of chewing tobacco on the ground, leaving a trail down the front of his chin.

"Yer stuck." he said to me.


Holy Fuck! They're never going to find my body!!!

I must have looked terrified because he wiped the spit off his chin and said, "Yer car is stuck."
Against my better judgement, I got out and looked. Sure enough my back passenger tire was buried in something that resembled pig shit.

"My bubby's comin down and we're gonna dig ya out."

He looked at me and blinked a lot.His Bubby came down the driveway and the two of them started shoveling my car out of the muck pile.



This is Bubby.

They told me when to drive ahead and when to stop and when to back up and after what seemed forever, I was turned around and heading back out the hollow to the main road.

THANK YOU GOD! I PROMISE TO BE A BETTER PERSON AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK NOW!

Once I got back on the main road my cell phone had service again.
Miss KIA had left me multiple messages. She kept asking where I was and when I'd be there. A couple of them were VERY pissy messages and that caused a few homicidal thoughts on my part,but the last message said that she'd been able to get a ride home because her friend's mother had to run to the Town Center Mall and THAT is the only thing that kept me from killing her in her sleep.

Shut up. I'm a good mother...


Holy fuck. These kids are making me nuts!

Speaking of nuts...all three of my children are out back making a snowman. Well, a snowthing. It has a penis sticking out of it's forehead and boobs and a few other things are being formed in other areas.
They're out there laughing like they're crazy.
Great...
I KNEW they'd all grow up to be just like Mr.Man.
Damn him...
If they could just be more angelic like me...gosh.


Er...
Okay then! I have to get off here and do something good and wholesome like I always do. Be sure to vote on my poll thingy if you haven't already. I actually got several votes for option number four. Can you believe that? HAHAHA!
Like I'm not already secured a place in heaven? Who would entertain them up there?

See ya tomorrow...

Put your X in my box please.....

I woke up this morning to a special treat.
SNOW!
AND guess what?
It's supposed to snow for the next THREE DAYS!
(Can you say naked snow angels?)



Yep...I'm excited. In fact I'm so excited I'm typing with my nipples.

Yep...sure am.

I also was treated to something funny that really made me laugh. It was an email from someone telling me how crude and vulgar my blog is AND how no one cares about half the garbage I write about, (mainly about sex and Mr.Man.)

Hmmm...really?



Mr.Man and I were stunned.

I gave this all some serious thought, especially the part of the email where the sender suggested that I am a "sex addict" and I need counseling before I destroy my family.

I know...I laughed until coffee snorted out of my nose too.
We ALL know that I am a normal, sweet little lady who is targeted by old ladies and weirdos.
That is my only crime...

Anyway...I thought I'd do a little anonymous poll thingy to kind of get a feel of what all of my readers think.
I'm really curious now.
I mean, wouldn't you be?
So...if you don't mind, click your choice in the box on the side.

In other news, I survived the weekend with Miss KIA and although I'm considerably poorer, we are all still alive and have most of our limbs intact.
I do have to mention though, that she not only refused to wear the dress I made her, but she also refused to wear the dress I bought her on Friday, choosing instead to wear a dress she'd worn to prom last year.

Whatever....

AFTER my head exploded, I took pictures and drank a six pack of Magic Hat Lucky Kat. I hadn't tried this particular beer before but I can honestly say I will buy it again. Very good stuff and no bitter after taste. A good flavor...


Yummy!

OK then. I'm going to get off here and get busy and then when I've done a little bit of housewifery crap, I will get caught up with my blog roll. That's some excellent reading if you're looking for something to do on a cold, wintery day. There are a lot of talented people over there. Click on the names and it will take you right onto their webpages. I will be adding some more to the list in the next couple of days. I've been reading a few other blogs religiously but haven't added them over there yet.

Keep it real people...even if it means offending or disgusting someone.



Even the geniuses know that you need to be true to yourself...

And then my head exploded...

There was no update today because I have been out shopping for a dress.
Yep...that's right.
You are not reading a typo.
I was shopping for a fucking dress.

After a week or more and fifty dollars in material, Miss KIA decided that she didn't like the dress I made her and refused to wear it.

In her defense I have to say that it was not flattering on her AT ALL.



You know, I'm really missed off that she wouldn't listen to me in the FIRST fucking place and take my advice.
But you know...I'm an Amoeba...remember?

So we went out and bought a dress.
It looks a lot like the dress I wanted to make her before she decided that I should make this other kind that doesn't "work" for her.

I'm kind of irritated so I plan to ply Mr.Man with drinks and fuck his brains out later.

That should fix my bad mood and plant a seed for a better day tomorrow...

Hope everyone has a good weekend....

Big bouncing boobies beginning to baffle Blonde Goddess brain...

I'm STILL trying to sew a dress that will fit Miss KIA's boobs!
Who would have imagined it could be such a mind boggling task?

I'm ready to cry and pull all the hair out of my head....

I honestly feel sorry for my daughter.
I do.
I know from spending countless hours shopping with her that they don't make cute clothes that fit her boobies.

Her boobs are holding her hostage!

Her boobs measure 52 inches around.

52 INCHES!

This is an example of what 52 inches looks like....



That wheel in the front is 52 inches tall...

Here is an example of what 52 inches wide looks like...



Now THAT is a big TV. Can you imagine carrying something like that around on your chest?

The doctor will not do a breast reduction until she is over the age of 21, so until then, we will continue to do what we can to reign those babies in.

My poor little Miss KIA.

She hasn't learned to drive yet because it causes breathing problems....



"I hope I don't suffocate myself before I reach the mall."

And trying to find a bathing suit is impossible....



My daughter wants to be a neurosurgeon. Can you imagine what kind of reception she would get when she walked in to talk to the patient?



*sigh*

Anyway, I am lamenting her curse and attempting to make her a dress so she doesn't have to wear something that drapes over her.
It's hard though. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a cute dress pattern to fit GINORMOUS TATA'S!??!

I'm winging it people.
So I have to go and get busy.
All I have left to say is this...

Pray.
Pray to whatever God you pray to and ask for mercy just this once. It's not for me so much as it is for Miss KIA.

Dear Boob Lord,
Please allow me to make a dress for Miss KIA that will cover her breasts almost entirely and prevent her boyfriend's head from getting lodged in her cleavage. Please let me find a way to make them look a little smaller in comparison with her much smaller waist and help her to understand that I am just a casual seamstress who is doing the best I can to make her a dress without the help of any patterns or Vodka products.
Amen

Thanks for the help people...I need it.

Geritol must have speed in it....

I've decided that I'm going to start taking Geritol.
I swear to God I need it.
Normally I wouldn't even consider something like that but it's for my own safety.

I had to go to the grocery store yesterday...
On Elderly Hell day...

Yep.

I got home safely, but barely.

The whole day had started off kind of shitty so by the time I hit up Krogers I thought I could take on the world.

WRONG!

The world of dentures and support hose and blue hair is still a world that I'm not acquainted with.
It's a scary, scary world and they people who live in it HATE MY GUTS!


"DIE BLONDE GODDESS, DIE!!!"

The trip to Krogers is dangerous in itself. I'm taking my own life into my hands just driving to the store. Then I have to watch out constantly to keep from being flattened in the parking lot.



"What big eyes you have Grandma. Too bad they don't help!"

What I don't understand is WHY there are so many of them out at the stores on Tuesdays. They don't eat that much and damnit, this is the third Tuesday of the month. I thought I'd be kind of safe....you know...some of them wouldn't go out because they'd already been to the store on the first of the month. What the hell happened? Plus it was COLD out. I mean, what's going on here?



"It's my turn to go to the grocery store to look for the Blonde Goddess today. I'm hoping for an opportunity to "get" her so I'll win those Bob Evans gift certificates this month."


You'd think there were prizes involved...

The trip through the store wasn't CRAZY or anything, just slightly unnerving. They were watching me from every isle....near the buttermilk....near the cat food....near the cans of pea soup. I KNEW I was being watched.
I half expected one of them to pull out a gun and cap my ass...



"This shot will get me a new Scooter!"

I know I have written about the way these elderly women plot against me. I KNOW what they are planning. I'm on to them and their evil ways...

BUT, what I want to know is WHO is behind this evil plot to abuse me? Who is the mastermind? What horrific thing have I done to warrant this kind of abuse?



"And when I tasted her peanut butter fudge at the Fall Festival, I knew I had to take her out before others discovered hers tasted better than mine."

God, it's hard telling WHAT I did to piss the ringleader off...

I've been looking for their blog, or newsletter, webpage...or whatever it is..that targets me and gives hints on how to torment me or where to locate me.
I can't find it...but I KNOW it exists.
I'm sure that's where they are offered prizes and various discounts or awards for abusing me.



"And this week's prize is a pair of support hose, a years supply of denture cream AND a ChemLawn treatment for your yard. Just submit your "I abused the Blonde Goddess" story and you will be eligible for this week's spectacular prizes!"

All I know is that someday I'm going to be older and by shit, I will NOT be like them!!!

I have plans for my retirement. I already know what I'm going to look like when I'm 80.


"That's right. Grannie is a hottie."

I plan to take up riding too...I'm gonna be a biker chick.



NO!NO! Not that kind of bike. This kind of bike!!!



This is the kind of bike that puts the fun between your legs!
(And yes, I plan to still be doing that on a regular basis too. Like I wouldn't be...duh!)

Speaking of which, Mr.Man is home for 10 days.
Hmmm....

I gotta go. *Grin*...maybe him being home won't be such a bad thing after all, mmm?

Chop, chop! It's just a flesh wound....

I meant to write about my weekend yesterday but fate had other plans for me.
I was still in bed asleep when Mr.Man came in the bedroom and informed me that he needed to go to the emergency room.
"WHAT?"...I screamed from a half awake state.
Within 15 minutes I had dressed and we were on our way to the emergency room.



What do you mean am I really going out of the house looking like this?!?!I had 15 fucking minutes asshole!

How did this happen, you ask?
Over the weekend while I was in Ohio listening to Broadway musicals with a hint of puberty and anxiety mixed in, Mr.Man was home fixing our sewer. Apparently the system backed up into our basement and made a mess...(several times in fact). So Mr.Man ended up having to dig our system up and lay new pipes (on account of our house and the sewer pipes from it to the street being almost 100 years old).

Monday morning he was finishing the job up and sliced the palm of his hand wide open.


He bled a little bit...

8 stitches and a tetanus shot later, we came home where I got to finish up the sewer job while he supervised.
Wasn't that some special time together...

Needless to say I was a bitch on wheels the rest of the day. We fought over EVERYTHING and honest to God I had visions of burying him in the ground along with the pipes.


But I didn't.

I was just bitchy because I was tired and had an exhausting weekend. We kept some late hours and on Saturday night I didn't get into bed until almost 3A.M. My daughter's show choir won grand champs and they were pretty pumped up by it. The school apparently has never won before so this is a big deal for them. They were all excited and no one wanted to go to sleep, so it took awhile for everyone to get settled.



This was the chaperone in charge of getting everyone in their rooms...

Veggie Stick decided to stay home today because she didn't feel good. I don't have a problem with her staying home if she REALLY doesn't feel good but I'm sick and tired of her wanting to stay home all the time. This morning it was a battle of wills AGAIN and I wasn't sure whether she was really sick or faking. I told her she could stay home but she'd have to be in bed ALL day with no TV or phone.
I figured that would help me to find out if she was really sick or not.
She became HYSTERICAL because I wanted to take her phone away. She cried and begged us to let her keep her phone. When I refused she said her dad and I were being retarded.


Guess which one is me?

She'd better remember where she came from...
She ended up staying home, without her phone or tv. So I guess she really IS sick.
Of course the fight this morning made me want to kill her and bury her next to her father so she's staying in her room all day. I will bring her bread and water and that's it!

Today has fucking sucked already.
Yes I'm a HUGE bitch today, what of it? Veggie Stick is one too. This should mean that a special day is in store for us all...AND Mr.Man will be home for the next 10 days...oh God....



Like mother, like daughter...at least for today...

Whatfuckingever!!!

I'm done writing for now.I need to get off this bitch train. I am so bitchy I can't stand myself...

Hey....maybe this can work to my advantage? I didn't get out to the grocery store yesterday and I HAVE to go there today. It's Elderly Hell day and you know what that means....



"Come on down this isle. We're perfectly harmless."

Yeah....sure you are.
I'M NOT STUPID!!!
WATCH OUT YOU HATEFUL OLD HAGS!
THE GODDESS IS BITCHY AND READY FOR YOUR SHIT TODAY!

I'll fill you in on the details tomorrow....(IF I'm not incarcerated...)

Spandex makes me crazy!

By the time you read this I will already be on the road.
Yep...I'm taking a road trip!
It's that time of the year again when I pack up Veggie Stick and sometimes Little Beatle and we head out of town for a few fun filled weekends full of "spantastic" excitement.



So yeah, there will be heavy drinking when I get back to the hotel room.

It's not that I really mind all the frilly dilly business.
In fact I enjoy it most of the time and love the fact that my kids are involved in something wholesome...

BUT, there are times when I REALLY feel like if I hear one more teen-aged girl sing "One Night Only" I'm going to smack my head on the floor until I pass out.



They only have one night? How much will that cost ya, huh?

Mr.Man loves a lot of metro-sexual crap like shopping and matchy-matchy clothes and things like that but he can't STAND these trips and leaves me to handle these things all alone.
Yay, fucking yay...

So I will get to travel to exotic places like Truck stops and rest areas that have no toilet paper and then, as if that's not enough to fill me with anticipation, I will also be able to eat at some of the finest restaurants like Steak and Shake and Taco Bell and Arby's while waiting three hours to be served because the place is PACKED with the nine KABILLION people I'm traveling with!!!



This IS the bus of terror! Submit to our will or be subjected to tight spandex clad teen-agers singing suggestive songs while dancing and sweating pancake make-up off their zit covered faces!

BEWARE!!!!

God help me.
The things I do for my children.
I'm the BEST damn mother in the universe!!!
Shut up...I am....
Keep this in mind folks when I'm sitting in an auditorium, watching the shows and there are five groups in a row who's choir is singing Queen's "Another one bites the dust".



Do ALL the choir directors own this fucking album or what?

Ok. That's enough bitching for now. I have to get my ass out the door....

Er...I'm excited, ok?



Alright...maybe I need to work on that but I'm going anyway. Be back Monday...

Brains, stables and FBI agents....

My house smells like a stable.
I REALLY need to get things under control here, ya know?

The other morning I looked for a fork and there weren't any clean ones. So I checked through the pile of silverware in the sink and couldn't find any.
WTF?
I walked through the kitchen AND dining room and still couldn't find any.
So I ate my STUPID breakfast with my fingers and then went upstairs to take a shower.



I'm a messy eater. What can I say?

Once I got out of the shower and dried off, I couldn't locate the hair dryer.
So I searched the bathroom and when I couldn't find it there, I searched the girls room.

Guess what I found?

40 FUCKING FORKS!
WHAT IN THE HELL????
As I stood there scratching my head in confusion, I noticed that one of the forks had some kind of mung on it that resembled a dried turd.

Is Miss KIA scratching her ass with my forks????
I'm completely lost on this one folks! I can't even BEGIN to imagine what she's been doing with the forks in her room.
IF and I do say IF, she is scratching her ass with the forks, why on earth didn't I bother to teach her better than that???

Me: Girl...When your ass itches, pull your pants out and scratch it with your pointing finger. Then use that stuff in the dispenser they call "soap" and wash your damn hand with it.

Miss KIA: My butt never itches mother. Please leave me alone while I do this Quantum Physics homework. (Stares at me like I'm an Amoeba.)



Me: EVERYONE'S ASS ITCHES SOMETIMES! JUST DO WHAT I SAY!!!

Miss KIA: (Pulling a fork out of the back of her pants) Mother. Why don't you take this fork and go have a piece of cake. Yummy for the good little mommy.(Uses incredible brain power to will me out of the room)



Her brain power is VERY persuasive...I can't help myself...

God...I don't know where I went wrong. I have TRIED to raise a good little eccentric genius child but it's HARD, ok?
IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT MY SWEET ADORABLE INTELLIGENT PAMELA ANDERSON LOOK-ALIKE HAS THESE BIZARRE HABITS!!!!

(I actually discovered chocolate cake crumbs and plates shoved under Veggie Sticks bed. THANK GOD!So it wasn't poop encrusted forks laying on the floor in her room...)

So how could I tell that Miss KIA was the guilty one in this crime?
Because Veggie Stick doesn't eat. And when she does, it's not normally cake. Plus Miss KIA would love nothing better than to wake up to the terrified screams of Veggie Stick beating cock-roaches off her.(thus the cake plates under her bed and not Miss KIA's.)

Now do you see why I drink?

The stable smell is coming from the basement.
The farm animals are getting old and lazy.
AND FAT!
My big BIG cat is too fat to use the bathroom in the litter box anymore. I got the giant cat box (almost the size of a kiddie pool) and he STILL can't hit the stupid box!
It's nasty.

He's getting cranky in his old age too.
He prowls through the house yelling "M-OW! M-OW!" at the top of his little kitty lungs and throws himself against the doors of any rooms that are closed.
He HATES closed doors. (I think he may be J Edgar Hoover reincarnated.)



M-OW!

As much as I hated to, we had him de-clawed.Our vet at the time said we might want to consider it.He didn't normally advocate de-clawing an animal, but said our cat would rip our new puppy to shreds and then eat her.

So we had him de-clawed. And since he was already fixed, I believe he felt his manhood had been taken from him entirely. So now he lives to eat, sleep, poop and torment us, not necessarily in that order.

Speaking of torment, I really have to stop now and go sew things. I have obligated myself(in a moment of intoxication)to put a new zipper in a sequined dress. I am so fucking amazing am I not?

There better be a fresh bottle of Smirnoff in the freezer...