June 07, 2006
Okay, now here's a thought...
So, I'm upstairs, in the "library", reading Robin Quivers' autobiography.
I'm only up to the point where she's just gotten out of the Air Force and she's made me laugh out loud, as well as agree with what she's saying, about 40 times, so far. I'm thinking while I'm laughing, "I don't "hate" this woman." And, in my mind, I saw the word "hate" in quotes, just like I'd written it, twice I think, earlier in my comment under that other post. Then, I heard myself think, "Well shit. I do like women, albeit very few of them. I like the strong, independant, not foo-foo ones. The ones who do cool "guy" things and probably also get along better with men than they can most other females..." The few woman I do like, whether they're celebrities or "real" chicks, have several qualites they share.Liiiike...
Intelligence, not having to resort to- or even know how to, they're so not interested in doing it- manipulation or playing head games with guys especially but anybody really, they're not snots, they don't feel threatened by every other bi-ped with a pussy on the planet, they're usually really attractive too, heavy or not, because of how they are, act or treat people... the few females I actually do like, a lot, are... cool people. Not morons, either by accident or choice. They don't lie.
They don't need to use people.
They don't go around hurting people for any old reason, and NEVER for overt, first-strike, personal gain. Or revenge, for that matter. We tend to just walk away. Forever. Knowing in our hearts that your never seeing us again is more your loss than ours in not having to deal with a buttmunch like you anymore. The more I think along these lines, the clearer it becomes. I don't even hate the BCs and the bims and the rest of those "other" women.
To say I hate them implies, to me, the effort necessary to lug around the baggage associated with hating people, which... I really don't do. I don't sit around 24/7 thinking about how much I hate women.
I just go right to that "JEE-zus KEE-riste, fuckin' ASSHOLE" reaction every time one does something stupid.
Especially if they do it to a guy.
That's an honest, if slightly "overkill" reaction. That's ingrained.
*waves at dead mother (and all the other women like her in my life)(with one finger)* Having said all of that, including the waving, let me now say I do see, understand and appreciate the difference between a reaction and a school of thought. It's the school I'm transferring out of.
Not having that reaction may take a little more time, a little more work. I can see me now, in about, what?, 15 minutes, maybe, wanting to say or write, "Goddamn, I haaaaeeey there, some wo-people can really be stupid asses, can't they?" I guess what I oughta feel for those other females is sorry, if anything.
Being the way they are, they're never gonna be able to like themselves, let alone ever be able to accept, love or appreciate men in all of their insane glory. How sad is that?
Like a life lived in black and white, instead of technicolor. No wonder they so pissed off, underneath alla the surface bullshit. I'd be pissed too, knowing- seeing all around me- what I was missing out on AND knowing that it's my own fault, but being so self-absorbed and stupid (and knowing that, too) that I didn't have one idea of how to change it. No wonder they "can't" see how they are, even when they damned well KNOW it.
They don't want to.
Maybe they can't afford to because the truth would all but literally kill them. Wow. What a horrifiying way to have to live a life.
Having to be an asshole to self-preserve an asshole. It's a lot like a dog with his tail in his mouth, running around in circles growling, pissed off because his tail is being pulled.
Forever. Ew. So anyway...
I don't hate women.
I just like the rare ones, hence only A FEW, among them.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:09 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Heard from dipshit, again...
It's in the comments under "Here 'tis" for whomever may be interested.
So's my answer.
(And, there she sits, thinking her theme song is Whitney Houston screeching "I Will Always Love You" about Rob... silly broad.) Back later with more "other news"... Peace, y'all.
Posted by: Stevie at 05:37 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 06, 2006
And now for something completely different...
Maeve sent me this a week or so ago and I've kept it in my inbox since.
I see this as a "palate cleanser", of sorts.Wears lycra tights in wild neon colors, the shinier the better, so the EMT's can find her body when her horse dumps her down a ravine. Wears hiking shoes of some sort, and t-shirts she got for paying $75 dollars to complete another tortuous ride. Her horse "Al Kamar Shazam", used to be called "you bastard" until he found an owner almost as hyper as he is. "Shazam" can spook at a blowing leaf, spin 360 degrees, and not loose his big trot rhythm, or give an inch to the horse behind him. He has learned to eat, drink, pee, and drop his resting pulse rate on command. He has compiled 3,450 AERC miles; his rider compiled 3,445 (the missing five miles are the ones when he raced down the trail with out his rider after performing his trademark 360).
Over heard frequently:
Anyone got Advil?? Anyone got some food? I think this last years twinkie has gone bad. For this I spend money? Shazam, you bastard- it's just a leaf (thud).
(have a sense of humor now)
Usually found wearing shorts and a sports bra in summer, Flannel nightgown, muck boots and a down jacket in winter. Drives a Ford, Chevy, Dodge, 150, 250, 2500, 1500, filled with saddle blankets and dog hair. Most have deformed toes from being stepped on while wearing flip-flops. Has a bumper pull two horse trailer, but uses it for hay storage, as her horse has not been off the place for 6 years. Can install an electric fence, set a gate, and roll a round bale, SOLO. Rode well and often when she used to board her horse, 5 years ago. Took her horse home to "save money", and has spent 50 grand on acreage, barn, fence, tractor, etc.
Has two topics of conversation-
1) how it is too hot/cold/wet/dry to ride. And,
2) how she may ride after she fixes the fence/digs drainage ditches/stacks 4 tons of hay.
(remember.. smile)
Has her hair in an elegant ponytail and is wearing a visor and gold earrings sporting a breed logo. A $100.00 custom jumper, (also with breed logo), is worn over $300.00 dollar, full-seat WHITE breeches and custom Koenigs. Her horse "Fliestergeidelsprundheim", "Fleistergeigel" for short, is a 17.5 hand warmblood who was bred to be a Grand Prix horse. The Germans are still laughing hysterically, as he was really bred to be a Grand Prix Jumper, but he couldn't get out of his own way, so they sold him to an American. His rider fell in love with his lofty gaits, proud heritage, and tremendous athleticism.
Which she admires mostly while lounging him. She lounges him a lot, because she is not actually too keen to get up there and try to SIT THAT TROT. When she rides, it is not for long, because (while he looks fine to everyone else), she can tell that he is not as thorough and supple as he should be, and gets off to call the chiropractor/massagetherapist/psychic. All of which is expensive, but he will be shown, and shown right, after he perfects (fill in the blank). (The blank changes often enough that the rider can avoid the stress of being beaten at training by a Quarter Horse.)
Looks like a throw back from a Texas ranch, despite the fact that he lives in the suburbs of New Jersey. Rope coiled loosely in hand in case he needs to herd any of those kids on roller blades away from his F-350 dually in the Wal-mart parking lot. Cowboy hat strategically placed and just dirty enough to look cool, Levi's well worn. "Lightning" is of course this guys horse, rescued from a bad home where he was never imprinted or broke in the "natural horsemanship" way. He specialized in running down his owners at feeding time, knocking children off his back on low hanging branches, and baring his teeth. The hospitalization tally for former owners was 12, until he was sent to "Round Pen Randy", after ten minutes in said pen, he was now totally broke horse. Bowing to the crowd, and can put on his own splint boots (with Randy's trademark logo embossed on them).
R.P.R. says, of all this... "Well shucks ma'am, twernt nuthin. It's simple horsemanship. In fact, with this special twirly flickatatin rope, ($17.95 plus tax), you'll be round penning like me in no time."
Is slightly anorexic and trying her best to achieve the conformation of a 17-year-old male in case she ever has a clinic with George Morris. Field marks include greeny-beige breeches and a baseball cap when schooling or mud colored coat and hardhat with dangling chinstrap when competing. Forks over about a grand a month to trainer for the privilege of letting him/her "tune" up the horse, which consists of drilling the beast until its going to put in five strides on a 60 foot line no matter WHAT she does. Sold the Thoroughbred (and a collection of lunging equipment, chambons, side reins) and bought a Warmblood. (Bought a ladder and a LONG set of spurs). Talks a lot about the horse's success in Florida without exactly letting on that she herself has never been south of the Pennsylvania line
Is bent over from carrying three saddles, three bridles, three bits, and three unrelated sets of clothing (four, if she is going to have to do a trot up at a 3-Day). The hunched defensive posture is reinforced by the anticipation of "a long one", a ditch and a wall, and from living in her back protector. Perpetually broke because she pays THREE coaches (a Dressage Queen, a jumper rider, and her eventing guru, none of whom approve of the other) and pays trailers/stabling/living expenses to go 600 miles to events that are spread out over 5 days. She is smugly convinced that Eventers are in fact the only people in the world who CAN ride (since Dressage Queen's don't jump, the H/J crowd is to afraid to go OUT of a ring, and the fox hunters, a related breed, don't have to deal with dressage judges). The hat cover on her cross-country helmet is secured with a giant rubber band, so she can look like her idol, Phillip. Her horse, who has previously been rejected as a race horse, a steeplechase horse (got ruled off for jumping into the in-field tailgating the crowd), a jumper, a fox hunter, and a polo pony (no bit stops this thing), has two speeds: gallop and "no gallop" (also known as stop 'n' dump). Excels at over jumping into water, doing a head first "tuck and roll" maneuver and exiting the complex (catch me if you can!) before his rider slogs out of the pond. Often stops to lick the Crisco off his legs before continuing gaily on to the merciless over jump just ahead. Owner often threatens to sell, but as he has flunked out of every other English-riding discipline, it will have to be to a barrel racer.
Is in a wide-striped polo shirt and beige beeches. The polo is so folks will know they're a jumper rider until they put on their shirt and stock tie. Baseball cap is mandatory after a ride, in order to exhibit free advertising for that trainer's stable for which they've forked over a mere grand or so per month. Her horse, Neverbeenraced, is a prime example of American Thoroughbred. The coat is deep bay, no markings, a textbook TB head (no jowl), and no unusual conformational characteristics other than crooked legs. Perfect, just perfect. The gelding has learned to count strides all by himself, and asks in mid-air which lead his mistress would like to land on today.
The western pleasure rider is starched, bejeweled and has more silver than the Queen of England. The ladies wear more rhinestones than Liberace and you can literally go blind watching the Amateur western pleasure class. Their horses have to have Zippo, Chococlate Chip, Blazing, or Dynamic in their name or they aren't worth buying. Most pleasure horses walk at the jog (what happened to a 2-beat diagonal gait?) and look like they're impaled on a carousel pole at the lope, yet they are a "pleasure" to ride. If the class got any slower the horses & riders would be asleep. Most of the men look like they're sitting in recliners any way, reared back & propped up. Huge spurs with wicked rowels are mandatory for obtaining forward motion and that "infamous" spur stop. Kind of a contradiction huh?!?
I, myself, am some kinda unique combination of the Backyard Rider (the flannel nightgown with barn boots and a winter coat and the F-150 parts), the Natural Horsemanship Devotee (I'm from Joisey and some of my best horses were "rescues", plus I tend to be more a horse whisperer-type than a hot-doggin', dumb-assed "cowboy") and the Western Pleasure Rider (I ride Western, used to dress like that for shows, LOVE the gaits of the horses and feel "the slower, the better"). Now, I'm gonna go clean for a while. Peace and thanks, Maeve....
Posted by: Stevie at 12:49 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Here 'tis...
Okay... it's done.
Twenty frickin' links, man.
20.
(Besides, I'd rather make ashtrays outta catshit than fuck with code...) Now, I need a fitting title (and yeah, I have done this damned thing about as backwards as ya can... EP first, then the body, then the title... oh, well... I'm me. Ain't ya glad you ain't?). So anyway... if ya have half the day and wanna see a slow-motion NASCAR wreck happen before your very eyes that makes Richard Petty's worst wreck seem like a bumper-cars incident, feel free.
It's there, in the EP...
Posted by: Stevie at 11:19 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
And... we're back.
Munu has been getting slammed with DoS attacks lately.
Our Fearless Leader has been snatching the bullets out of the air for the last coupla days with one hand and trying to get us back online with the other.
Again.
All hail Pixy...
*bows* I actually do have a few other things to tell ya's about... the job, the current situation, a coupla news articles that hurt my brain, shit like that... BUT...
ah, the inevitable "but"... since the last post here is about a certain subject and I have one more thing to throw out there about said subject, I'm gonna do it now. SO... if yer sick to puking over this whole deal, skip this part and give me a bit and I'll be on to other things.
(And, I'm not obssessing over this. It's just that a dear friend of mine, a person who has met Rob, in fact, asked me what the hell happened and, as I was re-tracing the evolution of this thing, something occured to me. Probably already occured to everybody else, except Livey, but, still... ) With alla the other shit Rob has to deal with on a daily basis, might not Livey and her endless yammering attempts to "save" Rob and her insistance that she "loves" him been the catalyst for Rob's slip? My heart and gut believes it was. *minute or so later*
Oh, yikes... another thing just occured to me...
What if she WAS the reason and KNEW it and DID it on purpose to try to prove to him that he DOES "need" her? It's not often, thank GOD, that I can "see" this kinda thing, but I do know that there are women who not only think that way, but ACT on it on a daily basis.
Hence, the bitches who get pregnant SOLELY to trap guys and have that "18 year paycheck", among other rotten, shitty things. Man. Evil genius does exist. She wouldn't be the first.
Look at Charles Manson.
That guy's not as "fried" as he wants people to think he is.
Not by a long shot. (Now I'm wondering if she even is...)
And, if ya want better proof of the existence of evil genius, just take a look at a "typical" BC.
It exists. I'm more "sure" of my first hypothesis up there, but that last part explains a lot, doesn't it? Like her absolute and utter refusal to see how wrong what she did was.
Either that last part is right, or she's dumber than a bag of broken hammers. Anyway... I've got some shit I hafta go do, then I'll be back.
Looks like it's gonna rain again, I'm off, the house needs to be straightened up and I'm all but on "E" with gas in my car, so, barring a power outage, I will be back later today. Meanwhile, y'all take care. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 05:35 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 04, 2006
She's baa-aack...
Stevie, I am replying here one last time over this. You do NOT know the entire story nor does anyone else but me and Rob. It is best to let it go and stop feeding his fire. I will not discuss this anymore. Your questions will have to go unanswered. please, take your own advice. It's over and done with, it's time EVERYONE moved on.There's only seven sentences there.
There'll only be seven here, too... 1.) This is about your THIRD "last time"... so far. 2.) I know plenty of "enough" of the story, as does everyone else... that you did one of the shittiest things I've ever seen anyone do to someone they "loooove", especially after that someone did all they could to TRULY help YOU, bringing you into their circle of friends and fellow bloggers at a blogmeet, letting you stay in their house, calling you their friend, trusting you... the list goes on, only for you to turn around and announce one of their most private and (for that person) probably painful things in one of the most widely read forums on the 'net out of SHEER SPITE and THEN having the LACK OF CAJONES to own up to the betrayal and the truth behind it and, instead, try to play it off as "helping" and THEN keep making it worse and worse by insisting you "had to" when you so did NOT have to shit on that person like that. (And, yes, y'all... I know that's one hell of a long-assed sentence, but... I said "seven sentence reply" and I mean to stick to that, so, this is what we end up with... *grin*)
(And, yes, I said that all in one breath and had a few seconds of "air time" left, even...)
(It's a "gift"... *snerk*) 3.) I know you WISH I would. 4.) Where have I heard that before and it's real nice how suddenly you've developed all this "discretion", but... it's too little, WAY too friggin' late, so you can quit with the trying to appear "socially conscious", or whatever, because it's just making you look more like the kind of person who spills the beans on others, but can't admit SHIT about (or TO) themselves. 5.) Oh, believe me, my questions have been answered and then some. 6.) My "advice" to you has been threefold... to admit the truth to yourself, leave Rob be before you hurt him any worse and never to be involved in an intervention, none of which I can or need to apply to myself because I'm all about truth in the first place, I never have or ever WOULD do to Rob what you did and there are only about... maybe six people on the entire planet I care enough about to do an intervention for and their ALL fine, including Rob. 7.) Translated means: "Quit picking on, and bringing adverse attention to, poor lil me, because I still believe that what I did was 100 percent correct and I don't give a rat's hairy ass how badly I hurt Rob because he started it, he hurt me first by not falling madly in love with me, thus allowing me to "save" him, nor does the fact that my actions have cost me the respect and friendship of about two thirds of the people who know of me give me one moments pause to consider that I may have truly, to the depths of human experience, been WRONG to do what I did, no matter how much of a "reason" I thought I had to do it, because I really am that self-absorbed and clueless and trying to make me understand any of this just makes my poor little head hurt and I don't care to learn from this, so stop it." Well, fine then.
You've convinced me.
You're hopeless.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:33 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 03, 2006
"There ain't nothin' wrong with the inside of a man that the outside of a horse can't fix"...
Now, this is a job I'd do for free.
Forking shit or helping them ride, it would be an honor to do.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:18 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 02, 2006
Another volley...
Well, it's slowing down, but it's not "done" yet, apparently.
And, as long as she keeps trying to defend her brainless, cruel and defenseless actions, I'm gonna keep calling her ass on it.
And, maybe that what she wants... to have it blow up in her face so she can play "poor little misunderstood me" some more, but if she causes someone to do more damage to themselves or even OFF themselves as a result of her thoughtless behavior, well... what then? I suppose she'll just blame it on the other person.
Seeing as to how she's totally unable, at this point, to accept the responsibility enough to admit the way she handled this was wrong, I have to try again. So... here we go AGAIN...
(And, I don't know, honestly, if I'm doing this because some part of me doesn't want to give up on Livey quite yet or because, no matter WHAT else, I just don't want her to fuck with, hurt or do any further damage to Rob. Or both. Rob IS the first priority. I know that much...)
Anyway...
Stevie, as I said, I'm done with this shit.Well, it doesn't look like it. And, even if you DO stop responding, it's not over until you SEE how bad what you did REALLY was. I am POSITIVE you don't see that yet, because you keep defending it. And, any "I'm sorry"s that are followed by a "but" ain't worth a damn.
When a person is sorry, they're sorry, period. Not "but".
All "but" is is the segway to the shitty excuse for whatever is being hollowly apologized for.
I don't even care about any apologies. Mostly because I'm pretty damned sure Rob doesn't either and it won't change anything, anyway.
And, that's what needs to happen... a CHANGE.
A change in your behavior in the future when it comes to this kinda crap with anybody, let alone Rob.
And, you said yourself that you'll always love Rob for who he could be, not who he is now and that denotes wanting to see changes in a person, SO, if it's good enough for you to request Rob change, you oughta be willing to do so yourself.
Your incorrect assumptions are only adding fuel to the fire and I will not indulge in that shit.Well, Dear, I don't happen to believe my "assumptions" are incorrect. All I've done is read you since months before you went to Georgia and read Rob for YEARS and I can add 2 and 2 and come up with you're pissed because things didn't work out like you'd hoped they would.
That was strike one for Rob.
His trusting you after that was strike two.
His turning down your persistant efforts to be in his life one way or the other was strike three and that's when you got severely pissed and shot your mouth off. You just really need to understand that what you did was so wrong that it's damned near criminal. Maybe it even IS. And, if it's not in some context, it oughta be.
And, in fact, treason is illegal, so just be glad Rob's not a country. From the Oxford American Dictionary... treason n. treachery toward one's country or it's ruler.
treachery n. betrayal of a person or cause, an act of disloyalty. So, there ya are.
You did betray Rob. What you did was an act of disloyalty.
And, if ever there was a ruler of a fiefdom (fief n, second definition, "a person's sphere of operation or control"), that is Rob at Gut Rumbles.
And yes indulge was the word I intended.Well, the way you used it in that first sentence was wrong.
If you meant that that was more than you were willing to discuss, the correct word IS divulge.
If you meant that Rob's behavior in not returning your affection is too weird, kinky or whatever for you to INDULGE in, you should have ended the sentence with the word "in".
I'm just saying...
Sounded incomplete or wrong the way you worded it.
And, that does NOT make understanding you any easier.
For ANYBODY.
His enablers are like blood sucking leeches trying to get more and more information.Here we go again with this "enablers" shit.
Do you and Bane honestly think that those of us calling "FOUL!!!" on what you did are trying to"enable" Rob to drink? Or condoning it? Or saying that's is just peachy keen wonderful that he slipped? That is so completely stupid as to be a WILLFUL misunderstanding of the issue. We're not saying "Aw, Rob. It's okay. You go drink if you want to." At least, I'm not.
And, I don't believe anybody else is, either.
Our collective response to Rob seems to be, "Aw, damn man. Sorry ya tripped there, Buddy. Let us help you regain your feet so you can keep walking on and away from it."
BUT... we've all been so totally blown away by what YOU did, that that's what the prevalent response has been about.
Rob's fine.
Rob's gonna BE fine.
He's one HELL of a lot stronger than you give him credit for.
He doesn't need a nursemaid to wipe his ass for him or tell him every step to take. He knows what to do AND how he has to do it.
Most he might need is a steadying arm to grab onto once in a while and who doesn't need THAT?
You, on the other hand, seem to desperately need help in knowing what "limits" are for and how not to obliterate them, especially out of what LOOKS LIKE a warped sense of entitlement or, worse, revenge.
And, if that's not why ya did it, you need to know that it LOOKS LIKE that's why ya did it.
The LAST thing it looks like is that you were trying to HELP Rob because what you did was the LAST thing an intelligent, caring person would do to help someone in that particular situation.
So, at best, your timing sucks or else your execution of ideas does.
"Right idea, wrong execution" is the phrase, but in this case the IDEA was wrong, too.
Kicking a man in the balls who has made a mistake, especially a mistake that mostly only hurts himself, is just so wrong. So, so wrong.
And, yes, I know about the "reverse psychology" shit of handing a rope or a gun to a person threatening suicide to shut 'em up, shock them out of the behavior, but, Rob is NOT the kind of person that shit works on, now is he?
How you didn't already know that is beyond me. And, who was it begging you, or holding the gun to your head, when you started disseminating Rob's personal info in the first place?
You say that his "enablers are like blood sucking leeches trying to get more and more information".
Well, who the hell asked you to say whatcha did in the first place?
And, don't bother saying "Rob did" again.
What he did, in your own words, was "dare" you to, not REQUEST you to. There is a VAST difference there.
Hope I'm not "assuming" too much, assuming you DO know the difference (now that it's been pointed out straight to you that there IS one).
And, maybe it's just me, but I don't think many people would come to a person who did what you did for "more (mis)information".
That's just dumb.
PLUS, it was YOU who INVITED me to email you to discuss this further, an invitation I turned down so as not to give you another opportunity to tell someone things Rob hasn't told that person himself.
What I'd like to know is, what is the REAL situation that you've twisted into "his enablers are like bloodsucking leeches trying to get more and more information."
That'd be interesting to get to the bottom of.
Maybe.
Yes I'm sorry I had to do what I did.No, you're not "sorry" because you're still inisiting you HAD to do it.
No, you did NOT "have to" do that.
If you were truly concerned about Rob, you had plenty of alternatives to "help" him, not the least of which would have been to call Cat, or someone else who lives nearby that Rob likes (if there is anyone besides Cat...) who could have gone to his house and physically checked on him to see how he was and offer REAL help.
Outing him in his comments, spilling your guts about what he told you IN CONFIDENCE, was just a low-class, backstabbing, "typical (pissed off) woman"-ly thing to do.
Until you can accept your own truth about what you did and why, you really need to quit spouting insincere apologies because it's just making you look worse every time you do it.
Really.
I hope you never find yourself in a position to understand.Fear not. I am absolutely certain I will never be in a position where I feel it necessary to try to hurt (or "help", as you so blindly insist you were doing) someone, to totally destroy their trust in me, by doing the EXACT OPPOSITE of helping them when they need it most.
Please, let it go. For his sake.Sorry, I can't do that.
For that EXACT reason.
Him. I swear to God, Livey, if you do something, anything, else to Rob that causes him to further hurt himself or end it all "his own way", you WILL get back the damage you caused... in spades.
Same goes for anybody who pushes this man over the edge. And, I won't be the only one... willing it on you, wishing it on you, seeing justice in it happening to you and cheering Karma on for giving it back to you and then some.
And, for some of his more rabid "groupies", maybe even lending a hand in it.
And, for the record, I'm not talkin' about physical high school school yard horseshit.
I'm talking about karmic retribution to the nth degree. So, please... take your own advice. Leave him ALONE.
For his sake. P.S. A bit of gratuitous advice it'd behoove you never to forget... If anybody ever asks you to be part of an intervention, either learn how to do it correctly, or decline. For whomever's sake.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:56 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Coupla things.... (one of which doesn't have to do with Rob getting fucked over, even...)
Okay... first thing (the one that doesn't have to do with Rob getting screwed over)...
I GOT THE JOB I WANTED!!!!I start Saturday.
Can make just about as much money as I want to, too... Up to $300 a week, I'm told. Somebody else who worked there last summer managed that and since I love dogs (as well as pretty much every other type critter on the planet, including snakes, except HUMAN ONES), I think I'll shoot for that myself, if not more.
Three hundred bucks a week to wash dogs... jesus. *lmao at the very idea*
To be paid to hang out with, take care of and spoil ROTTEN a herd of dogs. AND, three horses... how fuckin' cool is THAT? And, for future reference, my boss at this place will be referred to as BL, for Boss Lady and the other chick who works there will be OC, for... (say it with me, now) "other chick". So, I have one more night to be up all night, hanging out, cleaning the house, watching bad TV and keeping an eye peeled while the world sleeps.
Swear to GAWD, I was a hamster in a previous life I like being up all night sooo much. I don't know what is it or why, but I do. I love it. I'll miss it, too, but... no biggie. I'll have a coupla days off a week and it's just a few hours a day, too, so if I do fuck up and stay up when I hafta work, I can just come home and go to bed then.
Midnights always were my favorite shift. So... I've been off from the horse farm for six (long-assed, draggin') weeks and in that time I got two MAJOR things accomplished.
I found Glen.
And...
I found Bo. Two brain bleeds plugged. Not knowing where Glen was, or if he was even alive being a SEAL and having a still-shattered heart from Storm dying last June was driving me like Richard Petty would have, had I been his car.
Speed along quite well for a while, then KA-fuckin'-BOOM, into the wall, flipping end over end down the road.
Never did kill anybody, but it still fucked me up a LOT from time to time.
But... it won't anymore.
Glen's alive, in Bahrain by now I suppose and Bo's right over there, safe in his stall and glad to see me every single time I show up.
All I have to do is whistle when they're out in the field and he comes a-runnin'.
Right to me.
Even bypassed Eric that time he was there too and came right to me.
Whatta good boy.
If I hadn't already decided on Bo and then that turned out to be his name ANYWAY, I'd call that horse "Gift from God", because he truly is one.
And, now, I'll be able to get him paid off to Mrs Boss and be done with it, finally. Speaking of "being done with it"...
I thought I was with this next stuff, buuuut... not quite yet, I see.
And, please know I AM NOT PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW.
No matter what I say coming up here, no matter how many times I say "fuck" or any of it's derivatives, I am NOT pissed off, frothing at the mouth and freakin' over this.
I wasn't earlier, either.
Shocked, appalled, sickened, angry yes but not in a rage and hurt, but I wasn't "pissed off".
Like I said then, I was, and still am, beyond that. Unfortunately, no matter how far past pissed I am, I still feel a need to correct some (completely insane) shit about it and clear up the difference between "enabling" and "kicking in the balls when he's got enough shit to deal with" for those (Bane and whomever else) who can't seem to differentiate between the two concepts.
And, at least ONE part of this is gonna be fun. (I heard from someone I asked about... you'll see... *grin*) And, away we go....
Stevie, you answered your own your questions about me in your description of your "love" for the man.I did? I don't think so. My questions for you were... wait, let me go look again, because the only one I can remember is WHY DID YOU DO SUCH AN UTTERLY CONTEMPTABLE THING TO ROB? and what I said about how I feel about him has NOTHING to do with that.
Okay... first question or "first thing that ended with a question mark", to be specific... FIRST DO NO HARM.
Simple concept, no?
Must not be because SOME people sure as hell do have a hard time grasping it.
Don't you, LIVEY? Next question was... Honestly, woman, if this is how you "love" people, do Rob a favor and hate him, wouldja? Next question... But, you... Rob trusted you.
Do you even BEGIN to know what that meant? Next questionS... The amount of shit you put up with is staggering and yet, the one person you decide to fuck back is ROB?
Why?
Why the fuck did you do that?
And don't even THINK about using the word "love"...
Is the difference that you get "compensated" for taking shit from all those others?
And that, maybe, you didn't get what you wanted from Rob, so you feel it's just hunky-friggin'-DORY to screw him like you did? Next was this... And, I hate it that you've set us ALL back about 200 fuckin' years and made his theories about women in general seem true just to... what? Give yourself a thrill? Prove something? What?
Why did you DO this to him?
To me?
No, fuck ME...
To YOURSELF? Then, I asked... How in the FUCK can you think you "know" Rob so well, yet be so STUPID?
How did you think that was ever gonna work with him? Last ones were these... First, WHY?
Why'd you do it, and why'd you do it TO ROB, of all people?
And...
You did that so easily and repetitively (you said it more than once) that it simply CAN'T be the first time you've done that to someone, soooo... maybe the shit you take from alla those people is for some kinda REASON? Now, it seems to me, the prevalent question here is WHY?
Please show me WHERE in my description of how I feel about Rob I answered that question, m'kay?
First, I am not at all upset that "he doesn't return my affection." (There's more to that than I will indulge.)Yeah ya are. It's obvious as all hell.
And, not to be a snot (yet), but the word you meant to use was "divulge"... I hope.
And, to be a snot now, well why NOT? Why NOT divulge whatever else there is to that? You didn't find it at all difficult to divulge Rob's personal shit. Why not'cher own? Different story suddenly, is it?
Second, I did not betray any trust. Rob does not trust me to begin. You can't betray a trust that wasn't there.Yeah ya did. He trusted you enough to tell you what he told you. He trusted you enough to have you in his house for week. He trusted you. He was WRONG to trust you, as he so eloquently stated his own self, but... trust you he did.
He doesn't even remember daring me to tell the world he was drinking again, and I held it in anyway. I didn't take that dare, at the time. Even when he first goaded me.Why doesn't he remember? Could it be because he told you while he was doing it? Orrrr, could it be because he was JOKING and forgot because he TRUSTED you to keep your mouth shut? Hmmm... I wonder which it is.
Either way, you fucked up.
"I didn't take the dare, at the time."
No.
You took it LATER when he got you REALLY pissed at him.
Like that makes a goddamned difference.
Please.
(And, for the record, I'm LAUGHING at the stupidity in that as I type...)
He pushed, I pushed back. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same in my position.I've seen you do it here many times.More like "he pushed" and you blew his head off with a sawed off shotgun.
And, yeah, I am gonna tell you I'D NEVER do anything like that to Rob especially, but not to anybody else either.
I think you're confused again about this whole thing.
You may think that what I'm doing right now is "pushing back".
Okay, fine. That's correct.
I do it alllll the time here, right.
BUT... I am NOT telling the fuckin' WORLD anything you told me IN CONFIDENCE.
That's what YOU did.
That's not what I do.
Anything anybody ever tells me in confidence stays that way.
I know what "in confidence" means.
Always have.
Always will.
Plenty of people have told me secrets and I've never outed them.
Nor would I ever do anything to hurt Rob, so please don't ever say that again.
Third, there was no handling it in private with a man who hangs up on you when he doesn't want to hear the truth, ignores your emails, even the responses to his, and basically throws a temper tantrum every time you are right about him.Well, for Christ's sake... TAKE A FUCKIN' HINT!!!!
If he's hanging up on you, ignoring your emails and blowing up at you when you do manage to get his attention, that's a signal. It means "FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!
Are you so incredibly self-centered, self-absorbed and DENSE that you can't understand that?
Good God Almighty, even my farookin' fuckin' brain dead goddamned cats need less of a hint than that to leave me be.
Jeesuz.
And, THIS, his blowing you off was what made you do it, isn't it?
He was "hurting" you, so you decided to hurt him.
You got pissed off and couldn't take him wanting you to fuck off, so you "pushed back", din'tcha?
Now I get it.
"Hell hath no fury", alright.
God, you're low.
Fourth. I did exactly what the drama queen wanted me to do because he was too ashamed to do it himself.Are you fuckin' HIGH, Livey? Or do you think we, the collective group who reads Rob, are that stupid?
This is a man who has told stories on himself about shitting his pants in public, trying to kill himself when that stupid cuntbag he was married to left him with prostate cancer, used the "n" word, a man who tells the TRUTH no matter who doesn't like it and you actually believe he wouldn't have the balls to say he'd slipped IF HE WANTED EVERYBODY TO KNOW????
You.
are.
delusional!
You don't know Rob a goddamned bit, if you actually believe what you said.
And, there's a HUGE difference between not being truthful and not telling everybody on the entire planet every-gotdamned-THING.
That difference is called "discretion", which is something you need a fuckin' BOATLOAD of.
Rob has it.
That's why he doesn't tell EVERYBODY EVERYTHING.
Only a complete FOOL would do that.
"He was too ashamed to..."
Oh, for the love of fuckin' GOD, woman.
Stop now.
And yes, I can still love him, knowing all his faults, but that doesn't mean I want him to be in my life. I love myself more than to let him continuely abuse me.Oh yeah, you can feel any way ya want to about him, but, at least admit that ya do TOO want him in your life. That's what the fuck this whole pile of shit has been about. NOT GETTING HIM.
Admit it.
At least to yourself.
IF ya love yourself so much.
And, for the record... he wouldn't be ABLE to "abuse" you so much if you'd quit tryin' to shove yourself up his ass.
You're not a suppository.
Are ya?
(Got me wonderin'...)
Now that's all I will say publicly, if you want to discuss this further, so you can understand, you have my email."This" is all you will say publically... pft.
Posted by livey at June 1, 2006 09:46 AM
You shoulda stopped the "public" statements riiiight before you DIVULGED Rob's personal info like ya did.
A little late NOW to be declaring a cease fire, don'tcha think?
(Well, I know you don't think. Hence this entire fuckin' mess YOU MADE.)
And, no, I won't be emailing you to "discuss" this further simply because I don't want to give you another opportunity to divulge any more of Rob's personal shit.
Not even to me.
If he wants me know, he'll tell me.
Not you.
I've heard MORE THAN enough about Rob from you.
So has the rest of the fuckin' planet, by the way. NEXT!!!
Don't always agree with you, Stevie, and I'm not a member of the Acidman fan club. But this time I think you nailed it. What this Borderline Personality Disorder did was as viscious, shameful and self-serving an act as I've seen on the blogosphere in a long time. Sick sick, sick. Hope ol' Rob can get his shit together. There's a lot there that we don't need to lose.This is the fun one, y'all... See who it's from?
.
P.S. Bet we all wish we had a defender like Stevie. I know I do.
Posted by Bloody But Wiser at June 1, 2006 04:34 PM
The one I asked about. How ya doin', Bloody?
Sooo... how long ago was it we went 'round about Rob?
You must not be the worst one for pissin' me off about 'im.
Only one I can remember is that pinhead, jb.
And, I do this shit so often... *grin*
You seem pretty cool now. What was it you said that set me off?
I can't remember.
And, I promise not to get pissed all over again if ya tell me, too... I'm not like that. This time, I'm asking, not just reacting, so let me know, okay?
And, ya damned near made me blush with that last sentence... (I did go "aawww".... hafta admit that.) And now, Mr Willfully Confusing The Concepts... Bane.
Man, the enablers are out in force, tonight.You incredible nitwit.
Posted by Bane at June 1, 2006 09:24 PM
Please, for the love of GOD, tell me you're kidding.
Tell me that you ARE intelligent enough to know the difference between "enabling" (which is what you're insinuating I'm doing by defending Rob) and being an untrustworthy, lip-flappin', pissed off, revenge-bent asshole (which is what this whole thing is about).
C'mon, Bane.
I expect better than this from you.
Don't make me whip out my handy-dandy dictionary and DEFINE the word "enable" to you.
Or, bore you to suicide by relating endless examples of "enabling" I've witnessed over the years.
'Cause, I will, ya know. Don't fuck with me, Bane.
Come clean.
You DO know the difference, don'tcha?
You little shit-stirrin' minx, you.
Posted by: Stevie at 12:18 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
June 01, 2006
Betrayal, broken trust and a few other things you just can't fix...
Sometimes people surprise the shit outta me.
Not often, but it's usually because they've done something nice or selfless or they know how to keep their word or a confidence.
I deal with them when it becomes necessary.
I often have fun with it, too, like when jb needs his ass kicked. Then, there are people who also don't surprise me, yet don't get to piss me off either because, instead, they fuck up so royally that they turn me off to the nth degree to the fact of their very existence.
These people are frequently women. And, yeah, it was another fuckin' woman this time, too. See, I have ONE RULE. I have it here at Xfire, I have it at Gut Rumbles, I have it in my HOME, in my car, I have this rule at everybody the fuck else's blog on the whole goddamned planet... I have this ONE RULE.
You break it, you bought it and you can then fuck off. The rule? Anybody wanna fuckin' GUESS what the rule I have IS? You don't fuck Rob. And, I don't mean you don't fuck with Rob like bustin' his nads in fun or have sex with Rob, I mean you DO NOT FUCK THE MAN OVER, PERIOD. You hurt him, you suck, end of story. I don't give a flying fuck who you think you are or how badly you've suffered in your life or how "close" you think you are to him or anybody else, once you start adding to his problems, runnin' your untrustworthy fuckin' MOUTH, betraying trust... well, then... you just flat out suck and anybody worth a half a good goddamn would already know this.
Anybody worth a half a good goddamn wouldn't necessitate a post like this, now would they?
Anybody who truly loves someone wouldn't DO what was done to Rob. Somebody who was pissed OFF about something stupid sure would, though.
Someone who didn't get to play Crusader Rabbit, have a fantasy come true, be the be all end all of another person's existence... well, that person might find it "okay" to fuck a guy like Rob over. But, to use the word "love" in the explanation of the betrayal?
Oh, how utterly psychotic and unforgivable that is. "I love him therefore I must PROVE our closeness by telling the world things he told me in confidence, things that others don't know... things, that if others DID know, they'd probably get pissed about or give up on him over, thereby leaving him all for ME..." That's just fuckin' TWISTED, man. Betraying his trust is fuckin' twisted in and of itself, frankly.
At least have the balls to tell the truth about why. Don't blame it on "love".
Fucking someone over is the antithesis of love. Now, see... I know allllll about this Crusader Rabbit shit.
My mom used to call me that.
That's because I didn't just bring home every stray animal I found, I also usedta bring home stray PEOPLE.
Mostly guys, of course.
And, I know NOW that I was doing that to "save" them, so they'd love me forever for making their lives sooooooo much better. *short disgusted sigh*
In other words... that don't work.
Never has, never will.
FORTUNATELY, I figured that out MANY years ago.
As far as it goes with people, anyway.
I still do it with animals.... Anyway...
I know you can't really do that.
I learned that from experience. Then, I found Rob. And, I knew instinctively that you don't do that shit to HIM.
I also knew a buncha other shit about the guy immediately just by comprehending what he wrote. I've also had a great and abiding affection for the man (I hesitate to use the word "love" as it has been SO MOTHERFUCKIN' MISUSED AND ABUSED LATELY, especially when it comes to Rob) for four years. I've also only pissed him off once. ONE TIME and that was because I went off about Viet Nam in his comments and crapped all over HIS point and... I didn't do it no mo'.
I learned. I've also learned by watching other people fuck up.
Like Joan did.
Like Jenny did.
Like Jennifer did and does.
And now... like Livey has, although I feel compelled to state right now that that was one lesson I did not need.
I'd NEVER betray Rob like she just did. He tells you something in CONFIDENCE, you motherfuckin' KEEP IT THAT WAY, goddamn it. Hell man, Rob told lil ol' ME something waaay back before he went into Willingway and have I said a word?
No.
Wanna know why? Because I really do love the guy, in the purest sense of the word. I don't want anything from him.
I don't entertain illusions of grandeur about "saving" him or being "the one" female for him to give his heart away to again.
I don't judge him.
I don't give up on him.
I don't turn my love for the man on and off like a light switch, depending on his behavior.
I don't EVER want to hurt him.
I don't do anything but love the man and thank God every damned day that I found him when I did and have been able to follow him out of hell for as long as I have.
I also don't think he OWES ME a motherfuckin' thing.
In fact, I owe him.
Much more than I could ever repay.
I know that.
I know there's nothing proactive I can do, so I do what I can which is mostly keeping my fuckin' mouth SHUT about what he told me, asking God to give him a break with it, being glad every day that he's still here to learn from, stomping jb's troll-ass when he starts his shit and trying, above all else, to "first do no harm", a thing I learned when I was an EMT, many moons ago. Let me repeat that.... FIRST DO NO HARM. Simple concept, no? Must not be because SOME people sure as hell do have a hard time grasping it.
Don't you, LIVEY? Yeah girl... you done fucked up now.
I'm not saying that your whole life and what you do is null and void because of your apparent retardation when it comes to Rob, but woman... you really need to leave him the fuck alone before you push him too fuckin' far and give him the last excuse he needs to "handle it" his own way. And, fuck ME, fuck all of us who are actually content just to know (of) him, THIS MAN HAS A SON WHO IS GONNA NEED HIM TO BE HERE.
He also has a daughter and a Grammy-lady who'd be wantin' to hurt you BAD for what you've done to him by opening your mouth or for being what pushed him over the edge and "away" forever. A news flash for ya... Your "relationship" with Rob, whatever it may be to you, is not ABOUT you. Not in reality, anyway. After all he's been through and considering where he is now in his life, it's about HIM and nobody BUT him.
So is mine.
So is everybody else's.
He's earned that much.
And, anybody who has been around longer than fifteen minutes KNOWS that and ACCEPTS that and LOVES him all the more for the honesty. Rob's had a whooooole life he's lived without your interference, your version of "help" (which again, is the ANTITHESIS of helping) and he's got a lotta life left to live, a son to see to manhood, an old age to make his own coming up in about 20 years and a whole host of REAL things to have to deal with, without your brand of shit being flung into the mix. Honestly, woman, if this is how you "love" people, do Rob a favor and hate him, wouldja?
Just leave him the fuck ALONE before you do any more damage. And, try to understand this... I'm not so much pissed off at you for what you did to Rob.
HE'LL handle your ass on that count.
My solution has already been implemented and it's all I need to do, besides this post, to make my point. What I am pissed off at you for is having his trust and throwing it away, right into his face, when that's the last thing he needs. He TRUSTED you and YOU BLEW IT.
I know you've been through a lotta shit in your life, but you seem to have survived it reasonably well and never before have you made me think that you're flat out fuckin' STUPID, but... you have now. To be given a gift, like the trust of a many-times-fucked-over-man, and to just so thoughtlessly and thoroughly trash it... Jeezus fuck. Beyond that, what REALLY pisses me off is that you also made me feel like an ass for thinking you were one of the few, the proud, the "not psycho" chicks on the planet. I trusted you, too.
And, I do NOT trust women and this kinda shit is why.
Hell, woman, I'd sooner have had you try to fuck ME over than Rob.
At least then, you wouldn't have been dumping shit on someone who was already "downed" by other, more REAL, shit going on. Honestly Livey... what you did was worse than the shit jb does.
He verbally abuses, disrespects and mouths off at Rob every time he shows up.
BUT... all he is is annoying.
Just another gnat in the face that Rob doesn't need. But, you... Rob trusted you.
Do you even BEGIN to know what that meant?
Obviously not or you wouldn't have pissed it away like you did. You take endless shit from the people you take care of.
You take endless shit from your ex and your kids.
The amount of shit you put up with is staggering and yet, the one person you decide to fuck back is ROB?
Why?
Why the fuck did you do that?
And don't even THINK about using the word "love"...
Is the difference that you get "compensated" for taking shit from all those others?
And that, maybe, you didn't get what you wanted from Rob, so you feel it's just hunky-friggin'-DORY to screw him like you did? I so thought you were not a typical woman. Well, world... I WAS WRONG!!!!!! I can admit that.
God knows, I've been wrong before.
But, I'm very rarely wrong about women.
I think that's because I think they suck from the gitgo. And, more then focusing on your betrayal of Rob, mostly what is occuring to me right now is to be thankful for all the other females around here who haven't made me out to be ass for trusting them to not be "typical". And, yeah, I know I've dropped the f-bomb several hundred times, but that was for emphasis more than to express anger, because I'm not even angry at you, like I said, for the royal ass-fucking you gave Rob.
He'll handle that and, meanwhile, I'm somewhere BEYOND pissed. At least when I'm pissed, there's usually something there left to work with. With this situation and you, there's not. You have beaten yourself to death, as far as I'm concerned, with your flapping lips. That you could do something so hurtful, thoughtless, cold, heartless and back-stabbing to ROB, of all people, tells me more about you than reading your blog has in all the time I've been reading you, including your archives. And, what it tells me... SCREAMS to me, is "TYPICAL WO-MAAAAN!!!!" AND and, the last thing I need in my life in any way shape or form is another typical, cat-shit MEAN when she doesn't get her way FEMALE.
I don't need another stupid female making ME look like shit just because I happen to be a female too, by being another bc in a man's life who has already been fucked half to death by "typical females".
Especially when it comes to Rob. And, yes, he IS a special case to me. And, I hate it that you've set us ALL back about 200 fuckin' years and made his theories about women in general seem true just to... what? Give yourself a thrill? Prove something? What?
Why did you DO this to him?
To me?
No, fuck ME...
To YOURSELF? Whatever your fucked up reason was, IT WASN'T WORTH IT!!!!!!
And, don't EVER go thinking it was. I suppose you were thinking it was an "heroic" thing to do... to "call him out" on it, to "make" him straighten up.
That's the BEST reason I can come up with for why you did what you did and it's also the STUPIDEST HORSESHIT I've had to consider in quite a while.
How in the FUCK can you think you "know" Rob so well, yet be so STUPID?
How did you think that was ever gonna work with him? Knowing you like I thought I did, I have to believe that's what you were trying to do (or else you're just a worse bc than Jennifer), but that still doesn't make it any better. You can't "un-do" this.
You can't "fix" it.
You can apologize to Rob til your face falls off and it still comes down to the same thing... You cannot be trusted.
And, given the opportunity, you WILL kick a man in the balls who is already "down". Yet another coupla things I have learned from Rob.... Wanna know one thing I do still wanna learn?
Who "Bloody but Wiser" was from my last go-round in Rob's comments with that idiot, jb.
Somebody out there has the sense God gave a fuckin' ROCK, at least, because they tried to warn jb that fuckin' with Rob when I'm around is a baaaaad idea.
I just can't remember who that'd be. I know who it ISN'T, though... Anyway... I've said my piece on this.
I wasn't about to let something this egregious happen without pointing out in technicolor WHY it is so wrong, so bad, so... un-fucking-BELIEVABLE.
Hell, I tear jb a new one every time he starts his trifilin' shit.
You think this is gonna go unremarked upon?
Not even. Livey... I don't know what else to say to you.
You fucked up so bad I can't even BEGIN to really comprehend it yet.
You always talk about you being the one to get fucked over and how you're not the kind of person who'd do something like that, then you turn around and DO IT to the ABSOLUTE LAST PERSON who needs it, deserves it or would get ANY kind of benefit from it. Way to go. It was nice reading you, but I'm gonna pass on that from now on.
I HATE being lied to.
(And, I ain't real thrilled with people who fuck with Rob anyway, as we all know.) Two lingering thoughts... First, WHY?
Why'd you do it, and why'd you do it TO ROB, of all people?
And...
You did that so easily and repetitively (you said it more than once) that it simply CAN'T be the first time you've done that to someone, soooo... maybe the shit you take from alla those people is for some kinda REASON? I don't know.
But, maybe YOU oughta think about it. (And, no... I don't expect any answers. There ARE no answers for this. This, what was done to Rob, is just utter and complete HORSESHIT, right down the line...)
Posted by: Stevie at 02:41 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
May 31, 2006
Yes, God... you soooo funny. You is a funny little man. Now, knock it off.
My stupid phone just rang again.
It was God, being a smartass. About three weeks or so before I got Bo, there was this App in the paper.I called about him and the woman said she wasn't sure she was gonna sell him.
I said "Okay" to her, "Well, what da fuck'd ya put 'im in the paper for if ya ain't sure yer gonna sell him, ya dumbass" to myself and promptly forgot about it. That woman just called me and said she is gonna sell him and wanted to call me first. I told her about Bo, thanks for thinking of me and good luck. So, that's how it's gonna be now, is it?
Appaloosas being offered to me now that I have (THE) one? Fuuun-ny.
Ha ha, ho ho, oh to laugh. Sometimes, God, You are the corniest sumbitch in the Valley.
(The rest of the time that'd be me.)
Posted by: Stevie at 02:50 PM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay, now a pissed off redhead owns my horse...
Just got back from bringing the horses in for now and also just hung up from talking to Phil again.
He called back while I was walking down to the pasture.He wanted to make sure he was pulling into the right driveway and he was.
He'd said he'd call when he left there. I waited a half hour, forty-five minutes, grooming the horses and making sure they head all the crap they need til they go back out in a while.
Nothing.
What'd she do? Kill him and is now burying him behind a barn?
I decide to drive past and see if he's still there. I do and he isn't.
I call him. Yep. He's alive, he made it.
Doesn't sound too pissed off, either. Everything went fine.
She was a tad grumpy at first, then, when they got to talkin' Quarter Horses, she relaxed and showed him all their horses and shit. He was duly impressed. So...
cash was handed over, bill of sale made out in Mrs Boss's name and...
now I want that job even more.
I have GOT to get her paid off, pronto. This is a good deal, yes, but not the same deal as before. This one isn't with MR Boss.
With that one, I'd have felt more relaxed about paying him back.
Still intense about it, yeah, but... I don't think my hair would feel s'much like it's standing on end with him.
It does with it being her, though... What is is "motivation" set aflame... on steroids... pick you perjorative. Anyway... the horses are in, in their stalls with their newly installed fans (as of yesterday), outta the heat and away from the flies. I need a cuppa coffee and to get a shower and get ready to go meet this kennel lady. And, if this doesn't work out, then go talk to Faaaaah-bio again. I am NOT gonna lose this horse.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:24 PM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
People ask me, "Chick, why do ya drink? (I don't, really...), Chick, why do you roll smoke?" It's because of shit like this...
I get a phone call about an hour and a half ago.
Voicemail got it.
I got it.
It's Phil, the guy who brought Bo here for me last week.
He has "news".
The check?
Didn't clear.
He'd either have the money or the horse and if he got the horse, I'd be fucked.
That's pretty much how I said it, too... We hang up and I call Mr Boss.
He (Phil) calls Mrs Boss. Mr Boss is putting up a building and can't do anything immediate and I didn't know yet that Phil was talking to Mrs Boss. He calls back and I told him my story about Mr Boss, then he tells me he talked to Mrs Boss and she was "snooty".
Who?
Her?
*rolls eyes* Well, they didn't get too far, either. Started with "Come get the horse..." (hey, man... hang on here) to them letting it go til 4:00pm as that was the earliest she could leave the farm. Then, I said I was on my way over there to see what was up and I'd let him know. I felt like puking at this point, by the way... I took a little while to calm down, drink a cuppa coffee, smoke a cigarette or 90 and finally went over.
Before I left, I told Eric I was gonna catch it. I knew I would, but, like I also told Eric, I also already know it's because she's comfortable enough around me to vent, so... so what? It's okay. I can take it. And, I did. I did manage to get out the possible job part. She seemed happy about that. Well, at least she didn't yell during that part... Apparently, she'd just gotten off the phone with Phil again and had taken care of it ALL. He's on his way there now to get his money and I don't know if it's cash, another (local) check or what. Nor do I care, frankly.
All I know is that she's already got the bill of sale filled out and is pissed.
He's getting paid and I'm moving the horse. I called him back when I got back from over there and just pretty much told him she's not a happy camper and "Just don't take it personally..."
"Huh? What?" Her mood, son, her mood. "Oh, she's pissed?" Ayeah.
She's by herself over there, has a lotta shit going on at once, is pissed about the whole check deal (I'd hate to be the bank employee who answers that call) and yeah, she's pissed right now. I just left there.... "Oh, okay..."
"Hey, if I get lost trying to find her place, can I call you?" *siiigh*
Yes, Phil.
You can call me.
(And, I promise not to lead down a long lonely road to the middle of nowhere and beat the bloody hell outta you with a stick. Your buddy Larry, on the other hand...) So, here's where it stands right this second. I've got a guy about to get his balls bitten off by a very pissed off redheaded lady who now owns my horse.
All so I can have this HORSE. This, people with enquiring minds who want to know, is exactly why, much like my horse's namesake, I feel compelled beyond all reason to "roll smoke". Any questions?
Posted by: Stevie at 01:05 PM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
May 30, 2006
Oh, please... let this be a "yes"...
I mighta found another kick-ass job.
After finally finding Bo in last weeks online, early edition of the local weekly, I kinda thought I'd be able to delete it from my personal toolbar, but... I haven't yet. Just now, I decided, "Aw hell, lem'me look in the help wanted section..."So, I did. There's this job, 5 miles from here at a horse and dog place.
It's mostly a kennel, but there are also three horses. I did my "stalking" routine... looked up the number, found the address, mapped it, then called.
Talked to the woman for a good fifteen minutes.
I'm going there tomorrow afternoon to meet her and fill out an app. Pray for me, please...
I'd love this job.
We'd be perfect together. PleasepleasepleaseGodpleasepleaseplease
Posted by: Stevie at 05:47 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Can you believe...
the house is still clean?
Yeah, man.It is... so far. And, did I mention my little "terrorist buddy" showed up?
Oh, hell yeah... four days after Bo did. In and of itself, not so bad, but my ankles?
Oh mah Gawd.
What da FUCK is up widdat shit? When I was kid, I can remember liking legs with a-little-thicker-than-usual, strong looking ankles.
Mine were always slender (skinny) looking to me, much like a race horses are.
Well hell's bells...
The last coupla days, I've had the heavy ankle look going on and I don't like it no mo'! I'm pretty sure the swollen ankles has to do with my "little frien'", but why? What's the point, here?
I'd be surprised if there even is one. Anyway... everybody is fine.
Bo's doing great, especially since I haven't ridden him the last coupla days. I just keep driving down there and spraying him and Action, bringing them carrots and making sure they're okay (and STILL THERE...).
I also check 'em by binoculars a time or two a day. If they're by the gate, I can see 'em from the house. Speaking of the house and keeping in mind my "say it or be ready for it and it won't happen" rule... We hauled out and installed the air conditioners today.
When we went to check/spray/see the horses at dusk and realized it was cooler outside than in the house, we decided to break out the a/c's.
Now, I'm worried about fires.
Don't need no fires, thanks.
But, air conditioners are a big pull on the juice and this house is old and in my opinion which is mostly uninformed yet highly saftey conscious, this wiring is questionable, at best. There aren't very many plugs in any of the rooms and what there is are either old or big multi-plug affairs.
Extension cords are golden around here....
Adapter plugs, too, since most shit has three prongs and most of these sockets are two hole. Not to mention the fire we already had.
Not electrical, but still... The air feels good but it's got me wondering. Question... which is better? To leave them on all the time or turn 'em off when we're not gonna be in that room for a while? I'm talking in terms of being safe, not starting a fire... that kinda thing.
Cost isn't a consideration as the electric is included as part of Eric's pay package.
Just, in an older house with what can be assumed to be "older" wiring, which is the safest route?
And, is there anything I can do to find potential problems before they present themselves, like, touching all the plugs/cords/whatever to make sure they're not hot every day? ~~~~coupla minutes later~~~~ Alrighty then... gonna go get a shower and go to bed.
Let me know about this electrical stuff, okay?
Thanks... Peace, y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 01:37 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
May 27, 2006
Believe it or not, I'm about to go to bed soon...
I'm actually tired...
I just need to wash a coupla dishes and drag my ass upstairs. Taking the mare to Mr Bosses went really well.Bo did great, she behaved too and when I turned Bo back out with Action, the two of them wandered off together like it's been just the two of them all along. The house is still clean, like it was when I finished it this time. I made chicken for dinner... "regular" baked, Shake-n-Baked and barbeque.
(Regular baked is just a few certain seasoning that we do "by hand".)
I usually do make the chicken few different ways at once.
I also make a lot of it, that way we can eat it for a few days and switch between the different kinds. Additionally, I made succatash, green beans and "rice pilaf", by which I mean peas, mushrooms and rice mixed together.
Oh, and "nuked" baked potaoes. One of the coolest things I remember from being a kid was being out in the driveway of the Alloway house playing. There was a brick patio between the house and driveway and the windows in the kitchen were right there.
I'd be playing and all of a sudden get a sniff of Dad's cooking. I can remember being able to tell what it was, too... lima beans, succatash, the meat whether it was hamburgers or steak, the french fries... biscuits, sometimes... Man, being outside on a nice summer day, playing, not a worry in the world, my Dad right in the house and him cooking dinner.... nothing has ever felt like that in my life since. Except now does... I was thinking about this while I was cooking.
Then, I mentioned it to Eric when he came in and he knew just what I meant.
He said I do the same thing for him now.
He'll be outside, finishing up work, walking past or near the house, and he can smell dinner and it blows him away. He has somebody, finally, who likes to do that kinda stuff for him and I have somebody, finally, who likes that kinda stuff being done for him.
Yay that... May has been a very productive month.
I've gotten a coupla "relly, relly big" things done, after months, if not years of trying. Found Glen after years of trying and finally got an App, after months of searching. My next two "projects" may also take a lotta time, but I'm gonna get them done, too.
They are to lose weight and get some dental shit done. The dental shit already has been years in the making.
This shit started in 1981, as a matter of fact.
There's a story behind it, which is too long to get into now (I'm crosseyed here), so suffice it to say, I need to have a very loose tooth removed (that part oughta prove easy) and get the bridge I already have extended to cover it.
I've done it before, gotta do it again and... ew.
Dentists scare me.
That's a whole story unto itself, too. Put it this way, Nitrous to endure a cleaning is not unheard of.
Neither are dentists being bitten and having their asses grabbed.
(Again, the ass grabbing is a story unto itself and the biting the fools goes with the "why I don't like 'em" story...) I don't like this shit, but I like this loose tooth even less. That and my extra weight are my two biggest "problems" now.
And, the cool part is, there is something that can be done about both.
So, I'm gonna do it. But now... I'm going to bed.
First time I've gone to bed at a "normal" time in weeks. And, since eveything else around here is taken care of, when I get up, I'm gonna go hang out with Bo for a while.
Oh my Gawd...
It's gonna be a Saturday morning, too. Goddamn, if there was only some way I could have my Dad in this house cooking something while I'm out with the horse....
That would make it as close as it could possibly be to the way it was when I owned Diablo and hung out at Uncle Henry's...
Holy shit... I'm gonna hafta watch my Pink Panther cartoon tape before I go out... that's what I used to do.
I'd watch my Saturday morning shit... Pink Panther, Kimba, that show about the German Shepard named Joe, Land of the Lost... all that shit.
I'd watch that, then go saddle up Diablo and go see what we could find to get into.
Which was a considerable amount of stuff, too. And, I get to do that again tomorrow...
wow. Could somebody go get my Dad and bring him here by around, liiiike, noon, maybe?
I can stay out on Bo longer if ya want it to be a surprise or something... I'm flexible like that.... peace, world.
Posted by: Stevie at 12:42 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
May 26, 2006
"Git 'er dun..."
I am doin' that. Believe me.
House is so clean, it's almost scary.The one and only thing I haven't done yet is mop the kitchen floor. I'll probably go on and do that after I get the cake outta the oven.
(Spice with whipped vanilla icing...) Wanna know something? The friggin' shopvac was the best idea I've had in a while.
I love that thing.
It sucks like one of those really expensive call girls and saves me so much time... All I have left to do is pull the cake out to cool, mop the kitchen floor, get a shower, trim hair while it's wet, maybe give it treat and slather on that Cholesterol crap. Yeah man... that shopvac saved me enough time to be able to take care of me too, for a change.
Usually, I'm too damned tired to worry about me, but, I actually have enough energy left to finish this shit. Then, in the morning, I hafta take the mare over to Mr Bosses.
Originally, I was giving her to him to sell and put whatever she brought toward the cost of Bo.
BUT... instead, and I love this idea, even though it means nothing to put toward Bo... Mr Boss is taking her and another of his mares to his Uncle's house, next county over.
His Uncle's kids have kids and he wants a calm horse or two around for them to ride and learn on.
Pretty cool.
I like that a lot. Anyway, I gonna try ponying her over there riding Bo.
Should be okay.
Worst case senario, I wind up leading both of them to the farm and ride Bo away when I'm done. I can live wit' dat. I switched their halters today, the mares and Bo's. The blue halter she had on was either Storm's or new and it looks really nice on Bo's black head.
And, his black halter against his black face didn't look s'good.
BUT, it looks fine on the mare because she's a bay anyway, with black mane and tail and a bay body and face, so you can see the black halter on her and it looks intentional, like she should be wearing a black one. Well, anyway... Gonna go switch the wash loads.
Then, the rest of it... Tawk to yiz late-ah... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:32 AM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
May 25, 2006
One more... for Rob...
Via Cat...
The IRS decides to audit Ralph, and summons him to the IRS office. The IRS auditor is not surprised when Ralph shows up with his attorney. The auditor says, "Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the IRS finds that believable." "I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it," says Ralph. "How about a demonstration?" The auditor thinks for a moment and said, "Okay. Go ahead." Ralph says, "I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye." The auditor thinks a moment and says, "No way! It's a bet."Ralph removes his glass eye and bites it. The auditor's jaw drops. Ralph says, "Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye." The auditor can tell Ralph isn't blind, so he takes the bet. Ralph removes his dentures and bites his good eye. The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Ralph's attorney as a witness. He starts to get nervous. "Want to go double or nothing?" Ralph asks.
"I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between." The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this guy can manage that stunt, so he agrees again. Ralph stands beside the desk and unzips his pants, but although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the desk. The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win. But Ralph's attorney moans and puts his head in his hands. "Are you okay?" the auditor asks. "Not really," says the attorney. "This morning, when Ralph told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty thousand dollars that he could come in here and piss all over an IRS official's desk and that they'd be happy about it."
Posted by: Stevie at 08:28 AM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay, I know I'm starving and shit, but I had to do this real quick...
Coupla search terms and the first things that popped in to my head...
blue kote poison$ rats... No, it doesn't. It's a wound coating for large animals, ya knothead. And, what's with the dollar sign? is denise richards stupid... Ummm... Yessss the stars are not wanted now; put out every one pack up the moon dismantle the sun put away the ocean... Wha? Da fuck are you smokin'? duel dennis weaver gary loftin... That's Cary Loftin, thanks. murdered girl and lil sis along time a go in yahoo... Okay. First off, I'm hoping to GAWD this is a news article you're lookin' for and not a confession of some kind.
And, even if it is... ambiguous much? I'm sure that's gonna narrow it right down... herman munster, my foot bone's connected to my... What? What? You're foot bone's connected to your ASS? That you, Red Foreman? And, apparently, the cops doin' their jobs in Salem County warrants 6 page, front page headline farkin' NEWS coverage....
*rolls eyes* I always scan these articles to see how many of the people arrested I know.
Just like a typical redneck watchin' Cops, I know...
Anyway, I read this shit and heard myself call "bullshit" on quite a few of the charges.
How the hell you gonna make "hanging around to buy pot" charges stick?
Any lawyer worth a fart in a wind storm could getcha offa that.
And, they snarfed up illicit substances worth two grand?
*rolling eyes again* And, pray DO tell... what did that consist of?
At todays prices, it was probably a coupla baggies of weed, a coupla chunks of "other shit with such shitty karma I don't even wanna say it" and six 'Ludes or Darvons or some such 'script shit.
*yawn* They also snagged a coupla DUI's, served a few warrants... typical copcrap. I couldn't help but imagining Andy Taylor tellin' somebody not to make such a big deal over it as it was "just part of the job y'all pay me for, Ma'am...", with that "Aw, shucks" look on his face. And, look at these guys... crowin' worse than my two roosters put together...
*shakin' head*
Honestly.... Well, that's Salem County for ya.
Can ya tell why I don't miss it much? And, after "Daisy Sour Cream" thing in my last post, can ya now see why I canNOT stand to hear country music?
Shit makes me wanna kill myself to stop the pain...
Ugh. Alright... I'm really outta here now.
Donnyduck is about to kick open the cage, jump out, waddle in here and bust my ass.
And, there's still the matter of the refridgerator... Peace, ya'll...
Posted by: Stevie at 07:03 AM | Comments (0) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Good morning (she croaks)....
Okay, so what's the thing with taking vitamins at night?
I know there's some reason it's "recommended".
Is it because they tend to not add to your energy level and can, in fact, bag you like a shot bird and make you collapse in a snoring heap and it's better to do that at night than in the morning?
I think that might be it because I took one last night, then did just that.
On the floor.
In the livingroom.
With a blanket the size of a potholder and Tyler for warmth.
Remember about 90 friggin' years ago, when I mentioned maybe having found a good "plant guy"?
Then I said he kinda sucked a few times after that?
Then I quit mentioning it altogether because it made me want to kick his ass and I pretty much just gave up on the whole thing? Well... The little peckerhead finally came through. Eric went out to work and came back in a few minutes later and tucked a rolled up, crinkly-sounding thing into the crook of my arm.
Kinda like a cross between Tommy Chong and Santa Claus in coveralls...
It was the smell that got my eyes open.
And, I ain't talkin' about cowshit. I will say, for as long as got-danged took, it is a hefty, pretty thing to behold.
And, the smell... Good hay, like a brougham grass/timothy mixture has that same smell, only not as intense.
(And, no it's never occured to me til now to try it sometime... *grin* It's a thought, but that's all it is...) Anyway... it's finally here.
Not sure how to feel about it.
I am kinda impressed with IT (not s'much the plant guy, though, he took so long...).
And, I no longer wish genital warts on the plant guy, but... I'm also not all Miss Forgiving, Oh Let's Do This Again...
It's more like there's so much and it smells so damned good, let's just make it last a few months, til I can get back to Bucks and a guy I know I can trust for the next time. So, see?
An old
I've had it for longer than 30 seconds, it's sitting mere inches from me and I have yet to try it.
Used to be, I'd be "testing" it the instant I got it.
And, I will soon, be sure of that, but my "casualness" about it is kinda cool at this point. Now, about Bo... I never did call Larry back yesterday.
I was beat-tired and went to sleep for a while, like I said I was gonna.
When I got up, I just kinda hung around here for a while, then went and had a sit-down with Mr Boss about a coupla things.
Mostly I wanted him to know that, as far as I'm concerned, he has first lein on my time as far as working.
Which is all well and good, but it makes it kinda hard to know when I'd even be available to work anywhere else, not that I have any place else to go.... I have called a coupla places, horse farms, that were advertising for help, but I keep ending up a day late (and more than a dollar short at this point).
BUT... I do have an EXCELLENT lead on one job in about a week, when the materials come in.
I'll be... get ready for this... working with George, doing... roofing. Yes, roofing.
Can ya fuckin' imagine?
I can... only too easily. It's not like I can't do this kinda shit.
I have been doing this kinda stuff as an extra pair of hands with him forever, so... here I go again, to quote Whitesnake.
Hey, it's money... ya know?
It's also pretty "handy", no pun intended, when it comes to winning cash and prizes on Jeopardy, as I once ran an entire catergory of plumbing questions and got 'em all right.
Now, if only I'd actually been on the stupid show...
Anyway... ya want me, I'll be on the roof. Now, back to Mr Boss... he's fine with whatever I do. When I said "first lein on my time", he smiled at it, then said for me to not think that way. Then, I said I just wanted him to be assured that I wasn't going anywhere, even if I do wind up working someplace else full time til he's ready for me to come back there full time.
I told him, "Frankly, whenever you're ready, I'll quit whatever else I'm doing in a heartbeat and be back here instantly, I like being here so much, not to mention the whole "Bo thing", ya know?"
He was nodding the whole time.
He really is a good guy.
For the most part, he's not worried about me running off with the horse or leaving him hanging. He doesn't even seem overly worried about how soon he gets paid back for now.
Still, I feel better knowing he knows where my head is about alla this.
When I got home from talking to him last night, I came into the livingroom and told Eric and George about it, then finished up with, "Wow. Seems like the best friend I've made here in Gettysburg so far is a 74 year old guy..." and grinned. Now... about Larry again for a second...
I've found that when something "borderline irrational" is bothering me, like feeling guilty over something like "letting down" a frickin' cat because it died or being scared something bad could happen, if I say it, it stops bothering me.
A good example of this is this: A coupla years ago, we had a dumb dog named Daisy.
No matter WHAT we did, she just would NOT stay in the damned dog pen.
The other three did, but not her.
The last time she got out was the last time we saw her.
We looked for her, but... she was gone.
Now, everytime I see one of those fuckin' commercials for Daisy Sour Cream... "a dollop of Dai-sy...", it makes me feel like SHIT because of this brainless dog.
Or, it DID, til I told George and Eric about it.
I damned near cried while I told them, but now, other than being irritating because of the stupid song, they don't bother me anymore. This also works on fear. Like the insidious fear I have now about Larry... (the guy I got Bo from, not Eric's boss...) See, Eric told me yesterday that we're gonna have to move the horses on Friday to a smaller pasture for about a week or so.
(Has to do with temporarily having to move a cow herd so they can work on a big-assed pipe in one of the barns...)
Anyway, at first this kinda irritated me because I want to get Bo fattened/padded up some and where he is now is IDEAL for that.
Then, it occurs to me that it might not be so bad after all, to have him someplace that Larry didn't see the other night and wouldn't be able to get to him SHOULD HE SHOW UP TO STEAL HIM BACK because of alla this "check shit". See? This is what all of Larry's whining (and Mr Bosses way of thinking about him) has led to.
I now suspect that this guy isn't above horse rustling...
And, I don't mind at all moving Bo to a "not as lush" pasture for while, even though it's kinda counter-productive to my means. I hoping that by articulating this, it'll leave me alone now, before I move the horse into the goddamned HOUSE with us. Now... I was asked about pictures...
I don't and never have had a digital camera, unfortunately.
Nor, I think, could my computer handle the process even if I did.
Not to mention I don't have a scanner... Anyway... I did spend my sleepless night Tuesday night perusing pictures to find a horse who looks like him and downloaded a few. So, here they are...
Black, with a pretty nice mane and tail for an App and the white, though not as "blanket-y", on his ass with the spots.
He's a little more blended into his back and down his legs, but these give you a pretty good idea of what he looks like. He's a nice-lookin' lil sumbitch, if I say so myself.
He ain't no SuperHorse, but no other horse is a SuperHorse, so I can't really go by that, but he is, or has the potential to be, a really handsome horse.
Gonna be trained to the nth degree, too...
By ME, of course. Mr Boss is of the opinion that not only should Larry STFU already, but also that he needs to consider hmself lucky he got what he did for Bo in the first place. Maybe so, maybe so (a la Andrew Squigman)...
BUT, when I'm "done" with him, he's gonna be worth TWICE what we got him for. Okay...
I'm gonna wrap this up here in a minute (mostly so I can drive down the fuckin' road and make sure Bo's still out in that pasture... *grin*) but, before I go, I have a conundrum for ya's... Say you smoke.
(Not cigarettes...)
That gives you the munchies.
But, if you eat, it trashes the high, pretty much.
But but, if ya smoke before you've eaten anything yet (*weg*), you can say shit like "suck on a cat turd" (which I did earlier) and it starts to actually sound viable, you're so hungry.
So... which is better?
Eat first then get munchy again or smoke then tilt the fridge into your open mouth?
I can't decide... (And, the reason I said "suck a cat turd" earlier was because I told Eric I' d have an easier time doing that than what HE does which is to sometimes, when he's running low, "recycle" his Copenhagen. Meaning, he dips it, "uses" it for a bit, then... *I am sooo gonna gag, here*... puts it back in the can and... *starts to feel faint and a little too warm*... he... *gah*... he re-dips- re-USES- it. That is the most vile, disgusting thing I can think to do to my mouth, hence the "I'd rather suck a cat turd" remark. Just in case you were wonderin'... *grin*) Okay... I've gotta race like a piss horse now, the duck wants out and the refridgerator is callin' my name so...
I'm outta here. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 06:00 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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