January 05, 2006
A few random things...
Kind of a "good news/bad news" type of deal...
Those miners in WV did leave notes. Or, some of them did. They said they were all "just going to sleep..." They indicated that they weren't suffering and one, at least, said "Tell all I'll see them on the other side."That makes me feel better and worse at the same time... So, that's both good news and bad news at the same time. Pure good news is that the one Jack Russell from the horse farm who acted like he wanted to eat my face til Christmas Day is here right now, in my house.
Seems his "Mom and Dad" won't be home for a few more weeks and he makes me feel so bad when I put him in his house before I leave... so the Mrs. and I decided to see how he'd like to come home with me instead.
Well... he loves it.
Little booger wants to play fetch 24/7, though.
Hard enough to do that enough (in his opinion) while I'm trying to fork shit.
He lays there with the ball about an inch from his nose, right outside of whichever stall I'm working on, knowing that I'll throw it two or three times enroute to the spreader and after I dump the shit AND on the way back into the barn, let alone trying to keep him satisfied while I'm cooking dinner... *smile*
It is nice having him here. Bad news: I guess I do have one more thing to say about "that" (from a previous post)...
Seems like I maybe do have an issue or two with what I take to be ANYONE trying to "seperate" me and Eric.
Our Nextel cell phones have been off for about a week or so. We just didn't have the money to keep 'em on.
HOWEVER, I just talked to Nextel/Sprint today and made arrangements to get 'em back on.
Then, after work, Eric comes in and says Larry wants to move him to his service.
For the first time in I don't know how long, maybe EVER, I came right out with "What about ME?"
I felt so.... abandoned again. No.
Don't do it... I started to cry, like instantly. I mean, here I am, working my ass off to get this shit right, I was right in the middle of cooking a big dinner (ham, baked beans, au gratin potatoes, mac and cheese, peas...), I got Eric his stupid Oreo cookies and I'm just trying so hard to be "good enough", then here comes ANYBODY trying to seperate us. No.
Not gonna stand by while that utter HORSESHIT happens to me again. Fuck that. **Now, somewhere deep inside of me, I do know better than this. Larry's not that kind of man. He wouldn't do something just to hurt me, buuuut... No. Not now. I just can't handle it. I mean, it's not like it'd be free. The bill would get paid outta Eric's check anyway, so why bother, ya know? All I can see is a wedge being placed between me and Eric and NO. Sorry, but NO. The only tiny bit of "good news" from this is that I've now lost my appetite. I am at war within myself. I know Larry meant well and I also wanna die at the thought. I've been "seperated" from quite enough already. Fuck, now here go my eyes again... filling, but not spilling yet. Damaged beyond all hope, ain't I?** I gotta go. Peace people.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:18 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 04, 2006
Compounding tragedy...
I am simultaneously heartbroken and outraged over the disaster at the Sago mine in Tallmansville, in WV.
I really was hoping and praying that it would turn out more like what happened at Quecreek Mine. I have the movie about that on tape and that's where I saw the "miracle of the soccer ball".I still have mine, too. The one I "found" right after I saw that movie...
It's still hanging right above this computer, just like it has been since I brought it home that night. What is almost worse than what happened to all but one of those men in WV, is the fact that their families were mislead into believing that all but one man had survived. They were told only one man had died. They celebrated that for three hours.
Only then were they told the truth... that all but one man had died.
Un-fuckin'-believable.
How horrible...
I feel like I've been gut-punched.
Can you even begin to imagine how those families feel?
Jesus... Anyway, if you don't know what happened in WV, here's a link to about 1300 stories about it. The one man who survived is still in the hospital in critical condition, but he is responding to his wife, thank God. I saw one article that compared and contrasted this God-awful mess with what happened at Quecreek.
That led me to this. I just got done reading and crying my way through all ten chapters.
It really did make me feel a little better.
I still feel like shit for those families in WV though, and, if you do too, go read the story about Quecreek. And, if you know a miner... give him a hug for me and tell him he's awesome to be able to do that every day and that he is in my thoughts and he's being prayed for by some nut in Gettysburg, okay? God, those guys are amazing.
Or insane.
Or both.
Posted by: Stevie at 09:22 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 03, 2006
Changes... I see changes...
Used to be when I bedded calves out there, I'd struggle to heft and tote two flakes of those huge-assed bales of straw. (One bale of straw (or hay) takes up the entire bed on the old flatbed out there. They are BIG.)
They're unwieldy to begin with. Plus, heavier'n a I don't know what. Even if you could get 'em folded in half, they're still a challenge, right?Ohhellyes. Well... Since I've been workin' at the horse farm, heftin' this huge bucket of shit into the spreader about 35-40 times a morning (cleaning 16 stalls), I have gotten STRONG... like I used to be.
My shoulders, biceps and forearm muscles always feel kinda tight anymore, but I just thought it was fatigue or something.
It's not.
It's strength. I was just out there bedding calves again.
First time since I started over at the horse farm. (Started the restaurant not too long after the horse farm and that made it all but impossible to help out out there, but.... I'm baaa-aaa-ack... and then some.)
Anyway, I went out there to bed 'em, wound up feeding them first, then surprised my own self by being able to carry two flakes at a time, folded in half even, WITH ONE HAND!!! Balanced like a serving tray, they were.
And, it was EASY.
Except for alla the farkin' goddamned straw inside my clothes.
GodDAMN, I like that. (That carrying that shit was so easy, I mean, not that I have about half a bale of straw inside my shirts...) Also, I thought my jeans were kinda "big" when I wore 'em to the restaurant.
I was right.
Dear Lord GOD, please let me be able to get back into my 29" waist jeans again.
Without Ephedra.
By WORKING it off.
Maybe that way, it'll last, ya know? And yeah, I know... muscle weighs more than fat or some danged thing. So, the fact that my arms and upper body are coming back from the "near dead" means that, if there was a scale in this house (which there's not), the numbers may not change much, even though my pants are so big now I can pull 'em off without undoing them. *grin*
That's fine.
It's never been about numbers with me anyway.
Hell, I know what looks good and what looks loose and fat and sloppy.
I just want "good".
Well... actually, I want "real damned good", if I may, please.
I want my 29's back on my skinny (yet muscular and toned and shapely) lil fanny.
It's getting so that both me and Eric could fit into these snowmobile pants I wear everyday.
I might wind up needing to do a few situps or something to target my middle, but, hell... I can do that. Now... if I only didn't stiffen up like a dick OD-ed on Viagra every time I sit down for more'n five minutes... 'Course, that may have something to do with the fact that I've gotten, maybe, 6 hours of sleep since Sunday and alla that on the livingroom floor.... After I quit the restaurant on Sunday, I came home and started to clean the house.
It'd been a week, so it was slow going, at first.
I could hardly tell where to start.
But, I got it goin', then got a coupla hours on the floor, then went to the horse farm. Now, the reason I knew it'd be okay to go on and quit the restaurant was because, on Sunday morning, talking to my horse farm boss, he told me my hours would be increasing. Not by much, but enough to make up for the restaurant (fuckall, I am sick of typing out the longassed word. Yet another good reason to have quit...). That very morning a few colts got moved around, meaning there are a few more stalls to do now. So, I found that out, quit the foodplace (*grin*) and came home to take back my house from the creeping clutters. I made a tiny dent in it all, fell out for a few and went on to work at the horse farm again.
Got home yesterday (today IS Tuesday, isn't it?) and started in again on the house.
Plowed straight through it all until it was done. And, I mean COMPLETELY done, too.
Up to and including rebedding the animals cages, taking Donny Duck (and no, not "Donald"... Donny... as in "Osmond") for a swim in the bathtub, popping the dopey parrot his popcorn and just EVERYTHING. In the middle of alla this, I was also cleaning the stupid coffeepot with vinegar.
Got it as far as starting the second pot of rinse water. While it was supposed to be doing that, I went with Eric to do the horse stalls at Larry's house.
Well...
All of the horses were still out. Three stalls were "kinda" done and everything needed filling. Plus, it was raining it's balls off and me with no coat 'cause it was "only gonna be a few minutes". Pft.
I also needed to run to the grocery store and Wallyworld.
So... we did alla that shit.
Got SOAKED bringing in all 5 horses, then went looking like a drowned rat to both stores. I didn't give a half a shit what I looked like. (Or smelled like, for that matter. I happen to LIKE the smell of horseshit...)
Anyway... come home, start dinner and discover the coffeepot has died.
Well fuck me.
Shit. Guess what I got to do?
Go back to Wallyworld for a new coffeepot is what.
And, while I was that close, I also went back to the stupid grocey store for a coupla things I'd forgotten I needed the first time. Get back home A-gain, eat dinner, clean up from that and that's when I did all the "animal shit" that needed doin'. Again, passed out on the floor for a few hours and back to the horsefarm again. Now, here's where shit gets iiiinteresting... again.
Remember that lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit motherfuckin' asshole from Friday night? The one who has a "get my ass beat by a CHICK" death wish?
He's back. Seems the silly little bitch at the gas station tried to misdirect me by calling him Josh, when his name is actually Jeff and he DOES work here and he IS a bleeding asshole.
Oh, and there WILL be something done about him....
Anyway, I was about to make my left enroute to the horse farm this morning, when who should speed along and break traction and slide around the same corner, making a right to come here and almost hitting my car in the process, as I was waiting to make the left?
Yes.
That fuckin' jerkoff asshole dickhead.
After he made that little maneuver, I pulled a U-ey and came back here.
He passed me, headed back toward Larry's house.
I made another U-ey and away I go after him.
Of course, I wasn't going 610 MPH, so it took me a minute to get to Larry's.
He's parked in the driveway, waiting.
I pull in, put down my passengerside window to make sure it's the same fool and he approaches my car and askes, "Do you have a fuckin' problem?"
"Yeah. You, asshole. Just wanted to make sure it you was again before I turn yer ass in..."
"Oh", he bleats, "I'll make sure the cops take care of you, too..." Fuck you, dickhead...
Da fuck's he gonna tell them? I won't "play" fair when he's tring to kill me?
Asshole. I came on back here, went into the parlor where Larry and Eric were milking and told Larry that "that asshole I told ya about before is back. He's parked at your house right now..." Then, another guy who works here pipes up with, "Yeah, Larry... it's Jeff. He told me about it yesterday..." Then, I told Larry I didn't know if I should go call the cops, go to his house and beat the snot out of the little punk or just go on to work. I took the third option, to give Larry time to handle this.
However, I did come in the house just long enough to grab my Pusser stick, just in case the cum-swallowing, mouse-dicked little putz wanted to "play" again.
It's still in the car.
Staying there til I get a resolution to this, too.
S'like I said... something WILL be done about him.
*weg* And, ya know what else about changes?
Physical changes aren't the only ones I see.
My heart and mind are also "changing" about certain other things.
Like... "not existing", or the definition of "family"... shit like that. Being a Bull, I'll take shit and take shit and take shit til one fine day, I have enough.
Then, I walk.
I go so far fuckin' away, whomever it was that hurt me so bad wonders if I'm even still alive.
Had this happen with a coupla boyfriends. They'd indicated, in one way or another, that they were scared I'd be all "Fatal Attraction" on their asses or something when we broke up.
They had that idea or something like it and wanted to ensure I'd really be gone.
They usually accomplished this be being a total dick in some manner or another.
So... I left.
But, I mean really left their lives completely. As in: never heard from or of me again.
And, ya know what?
I never did miss 'em. Sometimes, it may take forever for me to "get it", but, once I do, it stays "gotten" inside of me FOREVER. Well... I finally "got it" about this one situation.
I've been sloughed off and hurt for the last time EVER.
And, ya know what?
Feels damned good to know it's over.
I mean, it has been for a really long time, but I just couldn't let go... til now.
But, I have.
I have to, before it does me any more damage, ya know?
It's just not worth it anymore.
I don't really like giving up.
But, in giving up this one MESS, I've gotten myself back.
Or, maybe it's that I've gotten myself for the first time.
Either way... I've had enough now.
Won't be going back for any more bullshit.
"And that's all I have to say about that."
(Lord, now I'm quoting Forrest Gump. This shit HAS driven me nuts(er).) Peace, y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 06:44 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 01, 2006
Well, I did it...
I think I'd made up my mind last night.
I know I was pissed when I woke up this morning, knowing I was gonna hafta to work my ass off all damned day.
When I got to the horse farm, after beating the shit outta the coffeepot for taking entirely too freakin' long to make a pot of coffee, I was still kinda conflicted about the whole deal, til I talked to the Boss Man over there.
When he told me my hours there would be increasing, it was such a relief...
So, when I got done there this morning, I stopped by the restaurant... and quit.
It was starting to interfere with my ability to even get up, let alone bust my ass hefting shit into the speader.
Then, there was the whole "morphing from a farmer into a female" thing, which I hated. Took for-friggin'-ever and I was doing alla that so I could go be a scullery maid for $2.83 an hour? I don't THINK so.
I spent more of my time there cleaning and filling shit than I did waitressing.
No thanks.
In the 21 hours I'd put in over there, I made $56 bucks in tips. That was a bad day at the Red Lion. ONE bad day. Not a week... a day.
AND, I worked a "whole week" there this past week. I only wanted 3 or 4 days to begin with. So, if I made shit for tips in a whole week, how bad was it gonna get next week when I only did have three days, two of which were the whole weekend, again... no thanks?
Then, there was the fact that it was totally cock-blocking me from being available to work for Larry EVER, at $8.50 an hour.
Then there's the fact that I had zero time to take care of any of my houseshit.
("Houseshit"... how ironic, considering that this house currently smells like a catbox... ew. Gonna fix that when I get done here...)
Plus, I had neither the time, desire or energy to do our horse stalls anymore, so Eric got stuck with it at the expense of his having time to eat lunch. Oh hell no. It goes on from there. More reasons than I have the energy to think of again.
But, there is one more thing right in the front of my mind... everything there is a la carte... meaning nothing is "included" with dinner.
You get your main course and two veggies... period. No salad, no beverage, no kinda dessert...
Oh, you can get alla that, but you pay for everything seperately.
Not good, from a "making tips" standpoint. Or from a "building up business" standpoint, for that matter.
I mean, the guys are great, the restaurant is pretty inside, the food is great and all, but... it just doesn't add up.
At least, not for me.
If I'm gonna kill myself doing that, I damned well better be coming home every night with a POCKETFUL of cash.
Know what I mean? Two farmjobs are enough and the wardrobe is the same... "casual".
I don't even hafta brush my hair if I don't wanna.
I get to play with dogs, cats, horses, calves and every other manner of critters, including wooly-bear caterpillers. I have about 10 of them now... *grin* (I keep finding them all over the farm, freezin' their little hienies off and bringing them home. I have this little ceramic container fulla (lawn) grass I keep 'em in. I love cattypidders...)
I can sing, take my time, wear what I want, re-arrange shit if I need time to do something else, get advances if I need 'em... "Farm livin' is the life for me... Land spreadin' out so far wide. Keep the restaurant, gim'me that countrysiiiide..." I'm just an ol' redneck farmer at heart.
I love doing this shit.
I didn't love that other stuff s'much.
It was okay at the Red Lion because the money I made made it worth it.
Wasn't doing that this time. So, I'm free.
Thank God.
I've got myself back. Another really cool thing about this whole deal is, since I don't hafta waste my time at the restaurant anymore, I can have any schedule I want again. Meaning I can stay up all night doing my thing and make going to the farm the last thing I do before I go to sleep, if I want, which I do. Having to go to the restaurant kinda made that impossible.
I am NOT a morning (or daytime) person.
Not at all.
Not unless morning is my night, that is. So anyway...
Since I can, I'm gonna run to the store and get some shit we need around here, then come home and clean, then go to the farm and do what I've gotta do there, then do our stalls, then... do whatever in the hell I want... YAY!!! And...
I won't be losing a dime in doing so, either.
Just one more hour a day at the horse farm will make up for what I made waitressing. (I work there every day. Haven't taken a day off since I started. I just cannot bring myself to "need" a day off from two or three hours a day, though not getting up s'early could be kinda cool... but I don't think about that. Nor will I be doing it so often anymore, now that I have my life back... *grin*)
Or six hours a week, workin' for Larry, will get me the same amount of money, soooo... *deep contented sigh of relief* I'm outta here.
Got a lot of shit to do.
Starts with going to the store....
Which I'mina go do now. Peace y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 09:22 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 31, 2005
Very important info if you have pets...
The link goes to a whole page of news stories about how this company's dog food has killed 20+ dogs and has a like number ill or near death from some mold-based toxin called alfatoxin. It's in the corn they use to make the food. It's sold nationally and is under recall. I saw the news article on here earlier when I got home from the horse farm this morning and wrote out the info, including the URL to the company itself, and took a copy to both my boss at the horse farm and the people who own this farm. Then, tonight, my horse farm boss(es) came in to eat at the restaurant and, sure enough, the Mrs. had taken the info to a friend of hers and there it was... that very brand of food.SO... I may have saved a life.... *big assed grin* (Also, while I'm on the subject, avoid using any products from Hartz Mountain, except for maybe toys or something. Their flea shit especially can kill your animals, too... AND THEY KNOW IT. They don't care, so fuck 'em. Find another brand for anything medical like that, ya know?) Meanwhile... yeah, I can see where working at the restaurant "too often" could cause me to... quit under the right circumstances. Not that I'm gunna... yet, but some of the girls there wanna play the "stick the new girl with alla the shit jobs" game.
Guess what?
Homey here don't play that shit.
Especially not for the chump change I'm making there so far.
I mean, shitsakes, if I was making $80 a night or anything even remotely close to that, I'd be more'n happy to sweep, mop, vacuum, roll silverware, yadda, yadda, friggin' yadda.
BUT... I can make just about as much at the horse farm in two hours that I make at the restaurant in tips in 5 or more hours, soooo... they don't wanna pull this shit.
Especially not this (PMS) week.
I most definitely would walk if it came down to it.
I'm just sayin'...
*goober face* Oh man... last night...
Last night some brainless dickhead made a fatal error in judgement. He fucked with me.
In a pickup.
Driving.
(Or what HE thinks is driving.... asshole.) I was at the restaurant. Left there at 6pm to take Eric to the bank before 7pm.
Did that, dropped Eric back off here and started back to work. I get about a half a mile from here and outta nowhere, here comes this ve-HICKLE, zooming up behind me and he rode my fuckin' bumper all the way back to work. At each intersection/stop sign, he'd let me get going, then screech tires and zoom up onto my ass again. Fuckwad...
As I turned into the restaurant parking lot, he roars past me on the left and goes around behind the building and parks at the back door to the gas station part. I park out front and get outta my car and, whether it was a good idea or not, I went right, into the gas station, not left, into the restaurant. Deep in my brain, under the rage, I could hear my semi-sane self say, "Oh shit. Here we go..." I go in and ask the girl behind the counter, "Uummm... are y'all havin' some kind of emergency in here or anything?"
It was patently obvious that they weren't.
She says, "An emergency? Noooo. Why?"
I said, "Because the asshole driving that truck right there tailgated me and drove like a complete IDIOT all the way here from where I live..." Then, I looked straight at him. He says, "I did not. And, what did ya slam on yer brakes for? Yer lucky I didn't hit ya in the ass..." Stu-pid fuck-in' mor-on....
On my Gawd. Fuckhole can't even lie worth a damn.
THEN, he got cocky...
Wanna die much, dickhead? After he said that shit, I knew I knew him from somewhere, so I hear myself say, "You work for Larry?"
He says, "Yeah", all snotty.
I said, "Well good.", with a little "fuck you" twitch of my nose and eyes.
He comes back with, "Whatcha gonna do, get me fired?" Come to find out, yeah I am.
But, not from here. I ended the confrontation with "well good" and went back to work.
I knew I'd get his ass and I'm gonna. Asked around here and found out who he is and that he does NOT work here (and therefore has no protection from my wrath whatsoever... *grin*).
He used to work here.
Quit last summer.
Now he's a truck driver for some dipshit around the area. Gotta have a CDL to do that.
Fuck up like that with a CDL, you lose it.
Lose that, lose yer job. "His ass is mine", sayth the Stevie. When I find him (and yes, I am actively looking), I'm getting his tag number, then me and the State Police right down the road are gonna have a nice little convo.
Then, I'm gonna find out who he drives for and let them know what kind of fuckin' asshole he is and that he's gonna be losing his license, so they may wanna go on and hire someone else.
The best part, though, is gonna be watching/hearing him explain himself to a judge...
So, yes, douchebag, I AM "gonna get ya fired"... and then some.
Dick.
(And, if it sounds like I'm actually enjoying this, there's a good reason for that... I am.)
Little cocky punk prick.
I am gonna knock his (teeny, tiny, little mouse) dick in the dirt.
Then, step on it.
Then, grind my foot back and forth for a while.
With my Harley harness boots on.
And... laugh whilst I do it. When I get done with this sonofagotdamnedbitch, he will think twice before he undertakes anymore terrorist tactics on the road.
At least with me. I mean, Jeezus, just because he is what he pisses with doesn't mean I am what I piss with, ya know?
God, I hate kids..... *giggle* Anyway, I've got a house to clean, critters to feed including me and I need to git movin' here, before I get too comfortable sittin' down. Or stiff... Peace...
and
Yappy who nears, y'all...
(or somethin' like that...)
Posted by: Stevie at 09:49 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 30, 2005
Okay. No busses, no throwing...
How's about "sliding off the slicker'n-snail-snot back steps and jarring the ever-lovin' HELL out of my left arm AGAIN"?
Hope that's okay, caaaause... I DONE DID IT!!!!!! ow In fact, that happened yesterday. *siiigh*Guess I had too much confidence in my boots.
Fuckin' things weigh about 5 pounds apiece and they've got treads on 'em like a four-wheel drive type tire, but... can I walk on steps like a normal person? Oh HELL no. I hafta do it like one of Jerry's kids. "Step, slip, slide, BOOM, bounce, bounce, bounce... FUCK!!!" I swear, next time I fall down, I ain't gettin' up no mo'. damn it. I'll just skooch around on my ass, like a dog carpet-surfin'.
(But not for the same reason, now...) My God, ya know?
Gettin' kinda tired of this shit. Not to mention how sick I am of having Ibuprofen for breakfast.... After that post that my PMS-infected ovaries did the other day, I went on to work at the horse farm and got an advance so I could get the animal shit I needed.
I explained it all to the Mrs. over there and she gave me more than I asked for. Nice lady. AND... are ya ready for this?
I got into the double-digits in tips last night.
First night I made $4.
Second night made $5.
Last night, I doubled alla that.
Plus $2.
Woo-hoo... *grin* Gotta go in tonight, too.
Hope I can do that again.
Be even better if could double it again. Now, lem'me ask ya's something...
I'm 42 years old. I've never had a kid, never even been pregnant.
The guy I'm gonna die with is neutered.
Now, WHY ON EARTH do I need to go thru this crap every fuckin' month?
Have you ever heard of a less-likely-to-actually-need-this-shit-to-continue
one-more-SECOND kinda person, or WHAT? My hand to GOD, I'd rather have a fu-manchu moustache.
And chest hair. At least I like 'staches and chest hair.
I do NOT like, nor appreciate, nor desire to be saddled with, this female shit one goddamned bit. If my ovaries fell out... I'd stomp on 'em.
I do a Mexican hat dance all over their stupid asses (and probably fall on my ass again...).
I hate my ovaries.
I hate my uterus.
I hate PMS.
I hate everything that has to do with this bullshit process. It is NOT special.
It is NOT wonderful.
It SUCKS.
In fact, it sucks sweaty, diseased donkey balls. If I come back in the next life as a fuckin' female again, I'm gonna strangle myself with my own umbilical cord.
I'd rather be a toilet bowl brush, thanks.
Less shit involved, don'tcha know.
Jeezus. Aaaanyway... no busses. No throwing. Gotcha. (And thank you for making me laugh out loud, BlogDog... Hugs on ya for that.) And, Cat and Faithy... somewhere deeeep inside, under all the hormonal insanity, I know you're right.
I just have to "maintain" for a while.
This CAN be done.
(Just hope it can be done by ME.) *(slightly maniacal) grin* Gotta go get ready for work.
Back later. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 02:51 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 28, 2005
I swear to God, if I could find a bus, I'd throw myself in front of it....
My luck, the fuckin' thing wouldn't be running, or something...
First of all, I know I'm getting PMS-y, but still... It's two days til payday from ANY of these ass-breakin' jobs of mine.Right now I have about 10 bucks... including change. I am out of horse feed.
I am out of cat food.
I am currently sobbing my way through my last two packs of oatmeal prior to going to the horse farm.
Not to mention running out of cigarettes, no weed, no hope of weed, PMS is here/coming... gonna need gas in the car, too. WHERE IS THE FUCKIN' BUS??? I am sick of this shit.
I hate being all money-centered to begin with.
I avoid being that way, because I see how it affects some people. But, I have come to the conclusion that it's a ncessary evil, so I do what I can to get it, so I can keep my animals alive and myself and whatever. But, ya work yourself into the fuckin' ground all the time and it'd just be nice NOT TO have to go through this every five fuckin' minutes, ya know? It's the same shit, so far, every two goddamned weeks.
The last few days are a study in "not killing myself" out of sheer frustration and humiliation that I still can't make it work, damn it. I work CONSTANTLY.
I don't mind... usually.
I DO mind when it gets down to the last coupla days and I have hungry animals and empty pockets. And, believe me, it's not like I had the money and blew it.
Ain't got to that point, yet.
(Doubt I ever will, sometimes...) It's just that it's not here... it's coming, but it's not here NOW and I need it NOW. Getting paid every two week sucks.
No, it SUCKS!!!!!
Really, really bad. I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be able to afford to work at that restaurant.
I love it, but... I've worked two shifts so far and made, maybe, $9.
Yeah... NINE bucks. I didn't forget any zeros... I had to buy a white shirt, new black shoes... all that shit.
I haven't even made back my "investment" and, at the rate it's going so far, I may have that recouped by about 200-fuckin'-7. I hate PMS.
I hate having to scramble, counting change... especially when there isn't any. Toss up as to which it is I hate more. Right now what I hate the most is ME. Letting down Eric, my cats, my horses, myself... and my attitude sucks.
But, whose wouldn't right this second? Looking up, I see a picture of my buddy, Andy Harris.
Shoulda been me.
He's better looking, was a good guy, had the ability to buy animal feed at will...
Yet, he's dead and here I sit, wishing I were. Fuckin' PMS and pressure.
Get offa me.
Leave me alone.
I'm exhausted already and I haven't even gotten to the horse farm yet.
All I wanna do is take care of what little we have.
Must you make it so damned near impossible?
And, God...
Hows about a break here, Son? Like maybe actually making money outta that stupid restaurant?
Or his money-grubbin' ex-cunt dying?
Or me?
Something... Ya know, Dude?
Posted by: Stevie at 06:50 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 26, 2005
Ya know...
I've heard people say that they'd be scared to fall asleep with someone with as sick and twisted a mind as Stephen King must have in the room.
Well... Go read this and see if you don't think, as I now do, that falling asleep curled up like a kitten in Stephen King's lap with him hopped up on coke or something wouldn't be do-able as all hell. Oh, and by the way... thanks, Rob...I think.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:24 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well, good...
Just got a comment/email about Darrel Buschkoetter.
Lady named Mary (from Lincoln, Nebraska... I peeked at my Stat Counter) says he IS still farming and happy doing so. That is sooo good, such good news.He is, however, apparently still single also, which is kinda one of those "Awww, damn..." kinda things. Hate to think of that. He's such a good guy. He shouldn't be all alone, BUT he also needs (and deserves) a REAL farm wife-type of woman. This time. So did that dillhole back in Jersey, but, I think his "stuck being married to a non-farming kinda
Unlike Darrel. Anyway... he's still going on and I'm glad to know it. I'm gonna tell ya again... if you haven't ever seen "The Farmer's Wife" (a mis-named "thing" if ever there was one), do so as soon as you can.
You can contact PBS, if you're made of money. I think they still sell the documentary for top dollar, or you can do what I did, which is contact some huge-assed video sales place in California, where they also sell it for people who don't have money fallin' out their butts.
I can't remember the name of the place right now, but if anyone wants to know, I'd be more than happy to re-find it for ya. It's worth it. Off to clean something. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 04:32 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 25, 2005
Maaaannnn...
Catfish has got thee sexiest voice....
That S'uthin' drawl, the timbre of it... it is awesome.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:21 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 24, 2005
Well, it's official...
I like the place... a lot.
They've got me scheduled for five days next week, which I said I'll try like hell to do, since it's already posted, but, if we can take it down to three or four days a week til I see how it all works together, that'd be good. On the other hand, I can see where, if I were forced to choose, I'd probably go with the restaurant... This was my very first night working for these guys and... they gave me a Christmas gift, just like they did everybody else. They also insisted I get something to eat, even though I was only working 5 hours. Most places barely give you time to eat, then severely limit what you can have.Not these guys.
AND... employees can get dinners to bring home (to feed hungry boyfriends) half price... anything on the menu, too. I didn't find another Red Lion (the name of the place back in Bucks)...
I do believe I've found better. I'm off til Tuesday, from there.
Gotta go fork poopage tomorrow still, though... so I gotta get to bed right quick, but... I just had to get it out, how awesome this place and these brothers all are. The cooks are all sweethearts and the waitresses all seem pretty cool (for chicks), too. Haven't seen any waiters yet, but... that's okay. I love that it's three brothers again.
It was three Greek brothers who owned and operated the Lion.
This time it's three Italian brothers. Fabio, Max and Daniel.
30, 28 and 21, respectively. Pretty cool. Anyway... I've got a buncha hungry birds and a rabbit and whatnot who're waiting for their "waitress", so I guess I'd better go get them taken care of and git to bed. Only hafta be up at around 5:30 or so, don'tcha know. Oh, and I like that "Phorquepoop Farm" idea, too.
Made me laugh right out loud. However, I did find a coupla websites that have something to do with the place. Now, on this website, the farm is called Evanslee, but Bob said that's just what the webpage calls it, it has no "official, hangin'-on-a-sign-at-the-end-of-the-
driveway" name.
He seems highly opposed to the whole idea.
Says it attracts wingnuts who then make his life a living hell, askin' questions, coming over all the time and getting in the way.
So, they keep it "on the LD"... "quiet", in other words. Wish I could find an online picture of Hank, the one stallion.
That boy is breath-takingly gorgeous.
His head is the most beautiful head I've ever seen on any horse in my LIFE.
His cheeks are soooo big.
He looks like a pitbull.
Only bigger... Okay.
Just had to go break up an "arguement" between a coupla cats.
Also fed alla the birds and everybody, so I'm goin' to bed now. Talk to ya's tomorrow.. or "later today" I oughta say, huh? Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:44 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 23, 2005
And, awaaaay we go...
First off, remember when I just said I hope I don't get the wardrobes for the jobs mixed up?
Well... I done did that.Last night. I was supposed to "go see" Fabio, right?
Dressed like a waitress-type person as opposed to a farmer... Uh-huh.
Riiight...
*rolling eyes* I went to WalMart.
I got a shirt.
A SHORT SLEEVED one. wrong I do NOT wear short sleeved mens shirts.
I wear LONG SLEEVED mens shirts with the sleeves rolled up like any other respectable working class hero-type. So I got the wrong shirt.
Didn't notice that til I was getting dressed for the "go see". So, insteada looking like I really would, I looked better, because I put on a black mens shirt and a really gorgeous black, gray and maroon patterned tie.
I look soooo much better in black...
Anyway, I got dressed, curled my hair (which I discovered in the process needs to be trimmed BADLY 'cause it won't hold a curl like I need it to for this), did the warpaint, did the whole nine, up to and including Drakkar. I go to the restaurant and... he's not there.
Gonna be back in "an hour".
So, I told his brother that was cool, I had some shit I could go do and that I'd be back... Welll... the "shit" I went and did was our two stalls.
Dressed TO THE NINES forkin' poopage.
I knew it.
I KNEW I'd do that... I never did see Fabio last night, either. I did our stalls, came home and started dinner. Then I got tired FAST. I called a coupla times, but he still wasn't back, so I said screw it and went to bed.
Before 8pm, mind you. Got up late, at 6am, (I like to be awake for a few hours before I hafta be anywhere...) and went to the horse farm, oh and I asked Bob... it has no name, per say.
Y'okay... Anyway, I've already been there, done that, been to our horses stalls, done that and then I came home and lo! and behold, there's a message on the phone. It's Fabio.
Wants me to come TONIGHT 4 to 10. Oh holy horseballs.... So, this means I need to get this done right quick, go get my check from the horse farm cashed, go BACK to Wallyworld to exchange the shirt and grab a coupla other things, go get my birdshit-encrusted car run through a carwash, back here, shower, wash and trim the hair, go through the whole "become a female" routine and then go hang out in a restaurant til 10 tonight. Wow, ya know? On that frenzied note, I'm outta here and Gawd he'p any mouth-breathin' nimrods in WalMart who get in my way.
I am in no mood.
(Nor will I be any time soon, I don't think.)
(Actually, I can't remember EVER having been in the mood for that. I don't recall ever waking up and saying, "Gee... I'm really in the mood to be fucked with by retards today..." Know what I mean, Jellybean?) Peace, 'y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 01:00 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 22, 2005
Still goin'...
Stayed up last night and got the house done.
Went to the horse farm (that I still don't know the name of, if it even has one). Got m'shit done there.
Came home and did the nails (and Dear Gawd do they feel better now).
And... I called Fabio, like he wanted.
*snort out a mild stream of steam* Went on upstairs and switched the wash around and tried Fabio again. He answers, "Hey you... How ya doin'?" He knew it was me. (Again... Ooookay...) The chick who does the schedule is doing it now. He said he's gonna call me back and let me know when-n-shit. I asked him how long he'd be there and he said pretty much all day, so I told him since he was gonna call me back with my schedule, what I was thinking of doing was going and getting the shirt and showing up over there in waitress mode so he can see what I look like when I don't look like a bounty hunter or something. He likes that idea.
So do I, 'cause there is no set time involved.
Which means I can go on and put a coupla coats of "clear" on the new nails and get a shower, go to Wally-world and get ready to be human again in my own time. This is starting to almost be fun, here.... 'Course, after I "go see" Fabio, I do have two more stalls waitin' for me, so I get to start out the day a shit slinger, then dress up like a shit-on-a-shingle slinger without actually having to do that, then come home and get changed a-gain and go fork more hoss poopage.
Oh, then I get to come back here and re-sanitize myself so I can make dinner. Back and forth, back and forth... hope I don't EVER get this shit totally backwards.
It'd impress the HELL outta my Boss at the horse farm, me showing up looking the way I'm gonna hafta to waitress, but, somehow, I doubt the reverse would be so true...
Kinda like if Eric got sex and AI backwards.
The cows would all loooove him, I'm sure.
Me? Not so much. Which reminds me of a cute lil "Eric story" from back at the farm in Jersey, before we got together.... He was the herdsman there, too and, naturally, one of his myriad jobs was breeding cows.
Now, I know when you use these semen straws, they have to be thawed and kept at the right temp til they're "used". I've seen guys carry them inside of their clothes, wrapped in paper towels and, if it's hot enough outside to begin with, in their teeth while they're heading for the cow. One night, I was headed for the parlor and Eric was coming out, headed for the office.
He had something very white hanging out of the zipper of his coveralls, not that I was looking... (Hell, I was scared his witch of an ex-wife would somehow know if I looked at him, let alone THERE, so I mostly just avoided him.... til he came home with me that time and is still here... *grin*) Anyway, "looking" or not, it was kinda hard to miss whatever it was hanging out there, all bright white against his cowpoopedon pants. So, I just kinda waved in the general direction of his pants and said, "Ummm... what's that?" "A breeding needle", he says, not realizing it was really a paper towel, nor just where it was hangin' from.' Immediately, my brain engaged my mouth and since he didn't know WHAT was where, I simply said, "Ohhhh. Is that what y'all are callin' 'em these days? Are ya sure "needle" is the optimal word ya wanna use?" He finally looks down, sees EXACTLY where the "thing" is protruding from and proceeded to turn 97 shades of red while I tried not to pee myself laughing. "Sellin' yerself a little short... or narrow, there, don'tcha think, Sweetie?", I continued. He just got even redder and started stuttering. Hell, he still gets all red and giggly when I bring that up.
I love that... Breeding needle... jeezus. Anyway...
gotta go clear coat the nails, either get a shower, then go to WalMart or vice versa, then go see Fabio. Back later... Peace, y'all.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:03 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 21, 2005
Oh, good Gawd...
Maybe Fabio is on to something... (See previous post... somewhere after the middle.)
Got done my nightly novella and took a lil' trip to Georgia.There he's got the results of a test he took.
An "Adult Industry Job" test. Naturally, I just haaaad to give it a shot. Wanna friggin' GUESS what my result was? Yep, sure e'nuff:
| ||||||||||||
*giggle*
Posted by: Stevie at 08:49 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Do up your seatbelts, y'all... it's been that kinda day.
(This does end well, so forgive my periodic pathos here in the beginning, 'kay?)
It was a dark and stormy night...day...
coupla days...
wait. Scratch that... I wanna say it started yesterday, when they shut off the TV, but, really, it started the second day I was here, not having a job yet. Well... I've solved that.
I have three now. I called Faaaah-bio back.
Finally. When they shut the TV off yesterday, I was all, like, "Whatever. God knows I have enough unlabelled tapes around to keep me busy for weeks, if need be..." Wasn't gonna sweat it.
Knew I am working and that it was bound to overtake me, at least a little, sooner or later... the not having been working all along, I mean... the bills. Well, now they are.
Yesterday the stupid TV (which I still don't really care about) and today... my Nextel cell went bye-byes. Again... house phone is still on, so it's not like I'm totally incommunicado, but.... not being able to talk to a coupla people by DirectConnect sucks donkey balls.
Eric, mostly...
I hate this. Yeah... the house phone, or "landline" as I usually say, is still on so far. And, a "double" car insurance payment is due NOW, due to not being able to pay it last month, soooo...
It's a race.
What happens next?
My landline gets severed, my car becomes uninsured or I get paid and then next week, we both get paid and alla this shit just hangs on til then...
Then, there's the whole "lukewarm waterbed" issue... *bangs head on desk* See why my "toothy grin" looks a tad bit maniacal? BUT...
Also, between yesterday and today, I got two messages on the landline voicemail that I didn't get til today and boy, were they cool.
AND, I got this Christmas card in the mail today... So, while my TV was being shut off yes-tiddy, I was also being called, I think the word she used was "wonderful", by Larry's wife, because she's been balls-to-the-wall the last coupla days and I cleaned her horses stalls when I did our own, so she left me a message just to say thanks and that "wonderful, so NICE" part. (Then, today, when Eric went to do the stalls for me since he's off and I'm not, there was a $20 tacked to Action's stall... from Doris.) The other message was Fabio again, wantin' me to call him back, which I just did. So, while my Nextel cell was goin' ta hell today, he wasn't writing me off and hiring a buncha other people.
And, that so far beyond sweet AND wonderful that I don't even know what words to use Christmas card was being delivered. So, my whole day went kinda like this... Already be awake this morning 'cause I sat up all night fuckin' around on here and watching tapes 'cause the TV's off.
Got a shower.
Put on all new "layers", which is always nice... a lift. (Meaning fresh layers of clothes, from longjohns out. I don't have 72,000 sets of longjohns, so I make 'em last a coupla days at a time...)
Went to the horse farm.
Got out of having to do our guy's stalls just for today, God Bless Ricky-poo.
Came home with every intention of whipping the house back into shape, but, actually got here and within an hour or so, started to lose cohesion and wound up going to sleep for a while.
But, my "decent" attitude was still holdin'... kinda well. My whole "we WILL survive", Jerry Garcia, optimistic outlook was still happening. I wake up to find out about the Nextel shit.
Fuck. So.
Just about the time that that and the TV and the car insurance and the other phone bill all started piling on and making me pre-suicidal, I grab a cuppa coffee, talk to Eric for bit, wind up in tears over it all and then... Eric shows me what he found on Action's stall door AND what came in the mail today.
Holy shit, man... He went to put alla the horses in (our and theirs) and I sat here, watching the phone blink that it has "messages".
Figured I'd better go on and get 'em before this sumbitch gets shut da fuck too, and... wow again. That's when I got called "wonderful" and when I knew I could still get with Fabio. So, I did.
From what I can gather, talking to him, he really likes my personality and he already thinks I'm a (funny, not dangerous) nut (don't know me very well, do he?), so he's gonna get me on the schedule and we'll see what happens. I can crunch my time at the horse farm and maybe get there a little earlier or something and Fabio said he needs "a strong waitress" at night more than during the morning, really, because, right now, the night shift is populated by young'ns and they aren't the most reliable, best-skilled people on Earth, usually. He also said he likes my voice and have I ever considered being an "operator", to which I replied, "Well, I usta dispatch cops and ambulances", to which HE replied, "No, I mean a phone-sex operator. You make LOTS of money doing that..."
(Ooookay.... *raised eyebrow and half a grin*)
To which I replied, "Yeah, but ya do know that most of those whiskey-voiced women are about 300 lbs, with curlers in their hair, moustaches and chest hair... I swear, it's usually like a female trucker on the other end of the line, Dude..."
To which he fell on the floor, laughing...
That's when he said I oughta become a comedian (What "become"? I already IS one, thankee...) and that he's gonna call the chick who does the schedule and tell her I'm on, I called, let's do it. He wants me to call him tomorrow at 1pm, but, I think what I'm actually gonna do is go get a white shirt (and notice that I'm not sighing in disgust or whining (much) about that part... I hate white on me. I look like a toad in white...) and actually go through all the motions involved in the metamorphosis from "horse barn" to "touching people's food plates" so I can see just how "involved" it's gonna be and to let him see what I look like in "waitress mode". Also, I believe if he sees that I already got the shirt-n-shit, it'll allay any fears he may have about how serious I am about alla this, since it took me a coupla days to call him back, ya know? Feels like a plan, to me.... Meanwhile, Eric is making chicken for dinner, since I'm in here typing (and he was off today and I wasn't. Plus, he "saved" the houseshit for me, so, it all works out... *grin*). What's gonna hapen is this: I'mina eat a chicken laig or two.
Clean the house.
Do the nails.
Get everything around here as "ready" and ahead as I can.
Go to the horse farm.
Do our guys.
Go to Wally-world, a.k.a. "WalMart" and get the shirt.
Come home and turn from a horseshit-slinger into a shit-on-a-shingle slinger and "go see" Fabio at 1pm. (I like that. I get to go on a "go see", like Gia Carangi or somebody... "And, modelling the latest on horsepoop-ware is Stevie... She is wearing vintage longjohns, a layer of sweats and tops it off with Yamaha snowmobile pants, topped with a 3X sweatshirt to have enough room to move. The "The Rising South" baseball hat is her personal statement, as are her black leather steel-toed boots. She makes a fashion statement in ANY barn..."
(which is "HELP ME!!!! I look like the Michelin Tire Man!!!! Or that kid, Randy, in "A Christmas Story...) "Go see", indeed... *giggle, snort*)
Then...
Let y'all know how it went, IF the landline is still on.
If it ain't, rest assured it'll be back real damned quick and we WILL be okay here and that I do love ya's and will be doing all I can to get my shit in one sock. Okay? And, BlogDog?
You are one of the sweetest guys I've ever known that I haven't met in person... yet. Thank you so very much for the card "and"... I promise you, the first chance I get to do something like this for someone, I'm gonna and when I do, I'm gonna tell 'em, if they ask, to thank Ric in Va., as I'm passing on what he did for me... for us. Thank you again, so much more than I could ever adequately express in words. You are utterly amazing. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:57 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 20, 2005
Yeah, I made it... I'm up...
Got up on my own, too.
No alarm clock, no "Eric givin' me a holler on the radio" (which he leaves on the headboard for that reason), no nuttin'.
But, oooh did I hafta pee.
*giggle* Musta ingested quite a bit-a liquid somewhere along the line.
*ding- halo appears (to go with the innocent, wide-eyed look on my face)* Been up for about an hour.
One cuppa coffee down, ten pots to go and my coveralls, which I washed last night, are in the dryer. I seem to have finished the dishes.
Didn't get to much else, though. I was, however, thoughtful enough to make a pot of coffee and park it in the Harley-thing, so that was nice.
Just shoulda made sure I didn't overfill it. If there's too much coffee in it and it's pooled around the top, it makes it so it doesn't seal quite right and thusly, allows the coffee to not be as hot as it starts out.
But, shit...
Coffee's coffee and that's why God invented microwaves, right? Aaaanyway... Gotta go fork poop soon. Then, when I'm done... gotta fork MORE poopage. Then, when I'm done THAT, there's some (metaphorical) "shit" I need to do something with around here.
Hey... maybe a pitchfork would help....
There's a skidsteer on that farm, too.... hmmmm.
God, how much more fun would houseshit be if we could use cool toys like that to do it?
Waaaay much more, that's how much. So, in conclusion... *snerk* ... it IS entirely possible to consume copious amounts of Strawberry Quik With A Kick and still function independently in the morning.
So far, anyway... Type atcha's later.... Peace Oh... P.S....
I went and bought that Michael McDonald CD they're advertising on TV yesterday. I, uh... kinda could, you know... use at least one of the three cards they want ya to buy to get the CD so cheap, soooo... I did it.
Gotta tell ya... the best song on it is the one in the commercial.
Of course, I'm not a huge fan of Christmas carols in the first place, but, shit... the CD is worth having just to be able to see Mike's utterly beautiful blue eyes.
The back cover shot of him is amazing.
He is GORGEOUS.
He was gorgeous when he was a Doobie Brother and he still is....
I wish he had done alla the songs "differently", though... like he did that one.
"Deck the Halls/Jingle Bells" kicks ass.
The rest of it just kinda lays there.
Hence, the studying of the CD case, for me...
But, anyway... Beautiful eyes and I have the card(s) I wanted... *grin*
Posted by: Stevie at 06:52 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 19, 2005
Answer: I am soooo drunk...
Question: What is the mating call of the Suth'n woman?
(Alternate question: What is the TRUTH?, 'cause I am... so very much so that I can only barely type...)
Tequila Rose.
Goooood shit. Even went and got MORE. Had two bottles in the fridge.
Unfortunately, they only had a coupla inches in 'em, each. Can't be havin' that, can we?
HELL no. I dunno what happened.
I was washing dishes and I was suddenly gripped with the stong desire to taste Tequila Rose.
So... I did.
Many, many times. Still am, in fact. Typing is fun.
Correcting typo's is fun.
Fuck, everything's fun.
Bet fuckin' would be, too.... (I said what?) Anyhoo.... I've got my Walkman stuffed into the pocket of my sweats, I'm about seven sheets to the wind and.... I love it. Meanwhile, I've got houseshit to do and I am.
Slooooowly, but Shirley.
(Don't call me Shirley...) Man, my fingers and my brain are GONE.
Thank God I'M still fine.... *snort* Fuck fine... I'm Jim Morrison right now.
I was Larry Gatlin a while ago.
I might be the Bee Gees later.
Or Pink Floyd.
Or Barry White. Whomever I am, it's an improvement. Tequila Rose is da shit, seriously. Drunk or not (meaning, me or him), Jim Morrison was a goddamned GENIUS. I've loved him for years. It's amazing just how intense he is.
Incredible. I think it's "Feast of Friends" I'm listening to now....
Awesome... Ooooh, here comes "The End".... I can FEEL Jim...
Jesus... Anyway, just wanted to wave, giggle and say "Hiya"... Gonna go finish the dishes-n-shit. Back later.
(I hope...) Peace peoples....
(This IS two fingers I'm holdin' up, ain't it?)
Posted by: Stevie at 09:53 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 18, 2005
Uh... excuse me. Kevin? Kevin Costner?
I like you.
I really do, buuuut....
I could tell by the requisit "p.o.a."... piece of ass friggin' chick that seems to have to show up in and thereby WRECK most good "guy movies". Stallone is good for this crap, too. Anway, I knew when I saw her that it was a bullshit movie.
So, I didn't bother. For 15 years, I managed to avoid this stupid movie. Then, today, (in fact it just ended), Eric has it on while I'm here, on the computer listening to Roger Miller and trying to find Edelweiss from TSoM to download. I was mostly able to ignore it, but, occasionally I'd glance over. Here is what I saw: A buncha buffalo poached
A horse murdered
A wolf murdered
The stupid bitch requisit piece of ass alive Kevin...
WTF, man? I even went so far as to read IMDb about it and I'm sure... I hate it.
I hate it so very much, I almost hate YOU, ya gorgeous fuck. I hafta go watch Tincup now, lest I ever happen to be anywhere near you and feel compelled to simultaneously kick you in the balls really hard and punch you right in the throat. You sick bastard. I'm also gonna go either erase or whiteout the blurb on my Lonesome Dove poster that says: "Without Lonesome Dove, there would have been no Dances With Wolves..." Don't eeeven try blaming Lonesome Dove for this... this abomination... this animal snuff film.
There was no gratuitous animal murdering goin' on in LD.
'Course, the whore lived in that one, too, but so did Call, so it was worth it.
But, again, LD woulda been juuuust fine without her. Anyway, back to my point... Dances With Wolves is absolutely horrible. Gonna go watch Tincup about 47 times in a row now to get the vision of DWW outta my mind. Don't EVER do that again.
Damn.
Posted by: Stevie at 05:45 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Search terms time...
Yeah, I know... I was gonna go fall out someplace warm, but then... I just haaaad to dig into the site meter again.... Saw this one search term that made me feel a need to go to the Stat Counter site and get the whole (estoopid) list.
So, here's what brings people here... (not my stellar writing ability *snort*) horse copulation- And yer point is, ya sick fuck? mr.ed zebra- No he is fucking NOT a goddamned zebra, idiot. He's a HORSE, which ain't even the same species, dolt. Go read Snopes.what means dunno- "I don't know" is what means dunno. Now quit askin'. pain bust r 11- Good stuff. Same as Icy/Hot or Ben Gay. (Though MARVIN Gaye is a better singer. Or was, til his asshole Dad killed him. Dumbass.) why do bodybuilders shave arm hair?- Because they're deluded, narcissistic dipshits who actually believe it makes them look more "manly". Yeah, cause men shaving their legs, or any other body parts, is soooo macho-n-shit. (Only thing stupider is Billy Ray Cyrus used to comb his armpit hair before concerts. Whatta clueless nimrod he was. Thank GOD ALMIGHTY that 15 minutes is over. Which reminds me of a joke... Billy Ray and Travis Tritt were both on Death Row. The Warden comes up to 'em on death-day and asks if they have any last requests. Billy Ray speaks right up and says, "Yeah. I wanna hear "Achy Breaky Heart" one more time. Made a lotta money and had a lotta good times off'n that song..." The Warden then turns to Travis and asks him what he wants. Travis says, "Dear God, please... KILL ME FIRST!!!!" *giggle, giggle, snort*) cheese rice krispies- Oh, please... tell me you're NOT eating this combo. It's not "cheese rice krispies"... It's "cheese AND rice krispies", a cutsey euphemism for "Jesus Christ" when yer pissed. Or getting there... Or a pansy-ass. joe mcginness- Lying dickhead. Was sued for fraud by Jeff McDonald and lost AND had to pay him for LYING in "Fatal Vision". bitch walk up hill to be whipped and fuck pornsite- I don't EVEN wanna know.
joe mcginness- See above, but I included this this time because of the next search term in the list, which made me laugh...
peed himself- See? annoying pictuters- "Pictuters"? Da FUCK is a "pictuter"?
beverly deangelo bio- Usedta be gorgeous. Had twins with Al Pacino. Is now a lardass. Over-played her singing when she portryed Patsy Cline. Sounded nothing like her. Too operatic. Ew. Next?
chinese guy killed fuckin horse- Run outta catmeat, did he?
biff rose- Brain so fried by drugs, he's no longer funny or relevant. Or sane.
brian piccolo- "Brian's Song". The only football movie I know of, offhand. Only football movie that can make me cry, period.
why do dogs lick themself- THIS IS THE ONE... This one is why I did alla this. There are two definitive answers to this. 1.) Because he can. 2.) Because he knows in about 5 seconds he's gonna come lick your face.
mother daughter tag team- That was just a nasty, baseless rumor and besides, she's been dead since 1990. Next?
burn calories waitressing- You'd think so, huh? "Burn WEED waitressing" is truer...
tracey thurman- Victim of such a severe beating at the hands of her husband and such inept, asshole cops in Torrington, Ct. that she is now a paraplegic. Domestic Violence laws were changed because of what happened to this woman. I hope she's doing great and Buck, her abuser, is either the girlfriend of the biggest dicked guy in prison or dead.
buschkoetter, divorce- Yes, they did. Hope Darrel is also doing great. God knows he deserves it. I hope, every time I think of him, that he's still farming. darrel buschkoetter, nebraska- Gorgeous, subject of a documentary called "The Farmer's Wife", which is ironic, considering she left him. Shoulda called it "The Farmer", because that's what is eternal... farming. Not her. Next? well this sucks- Yep.
a required dll was missing psapi.dll beyond tv- "beyond tv"? Wha? verizon sucks- Yes. Yes, it does. Switch to Sprint or something. bad ass harleys- As if there are any other kinds of Harleys. (And, CAPITALIZE that "h" next time, Riceburner Rider...)
chick with a brain sweatshirt- Huh? westel 327w- I have not a clue. I don't even know what this is, let alone when the hell I ever mentioned it, but people get here with this all the time. alloway remembers- So do I. Great book. Still have mine.
garton- Well, in my world it's actually "Garton's", which is "snotrag" backwards. I made my Dad laugh so hard when I first saw that, driving past the place one day when I was kid, he damned near drove into a ditch... budweiser farting horse- ALL horses fart. Usually just about the time you're grooming their backends. They SAY it's "a acci-dent", but, it's not. It's on purpose and usually smells like fermented mayonaise.
british humor- Very dry. Very witty. Very sexy. Love it. And the accent... 70's song knock on wood- Disco hit whose lyrics make no sense whatsoever. But... it has a good beat and you can dance to it... Denny. illinois poached deer- ANY poached deer oughta be a "shoot the person in the face"-able offense. Next? juanita buschkoetter update- She divorced Darrel and is married to someone else. Bitch. Next?
christmas madlibs- Never seen specifically "Christmas" Madlibs. ALL Madlibs are good, though. Had an online version going for a while there.
goofy birthday wishes- Well, serious ones ain't no fun.
play the song christmas song little toy train- I would, but I don't feel like bawling my head off, thanks. You can do that yerself here. It's 15th on the list. And, there are a buncha other good tunes here, too... jeans bulge- Well, one thing I do know... you ain't talkin' about Dwight "Flatfrontain'tgotnodickapparently" Yoakam...
vafanapoli- I read somewhere that this really means something like "Go to Naples" or some such rot. Considering it came from Joey "Bonehead" Tribiani, it probably does. I believe what he was going for was more along the lines of:
Carlo Rizzi: I'm not hungry yet.
Connie: Your food is on the table. It's getting cold.
Carlo Rizzi: I'll eat out later.
Connie: You just told me to make you dinner!
Carlo Rizzi: Hey, vaffanculo, eh?
Connie: I'll vaffanculo you!
Of course, this, coming from IMDb, may also be spelled wrong. However, the overriding emotion here is "fuck you" not a vacation suggestion. guys being rough- What about it?
had to pee in woods- Awww... poor baby. *rolling eyes* Welcome to the real world, Princess. who sings old toy trains- Roger Miller, originally. Dean does it now. Still breaks my heart. God, I miss my Pop-pop, thanks for reminding me... again. *wry grin* Well, that's it...for now. Just so I can end this on an "up" note, let me direct you to an EXCELLENT Roger Miller site. Check out the Jukebox. Specifically, "River in the Rain". This song also makes me bawl like a moonstruck calf, but, about my Dad, not Pop-pop, for a change. Like that helps...
Anyway... go. Listen. Enjoy.
And, if you get a chance to hear John Goodman sing "Guv'ment", also from Big River (as is River in the Rain), do so. It is AWESOME. But then... so is John. Peace, y'all...
*signs off, humming the tune of "Old Toy Trains" while eyes start to sting*
Posted by: Stevie at 02:34 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I know y'all know this and all, but...
It occured to me this morning, as I was forkin' hoss shit...
The other day I did that post about Jeff McDonald. I ended it with that lil "warning" about pissin' me off about it. I didn't mean you guys... you who read my drivel when it's current.I was talking to the worm-brained dickheads who're too stupid to pay attention to the date of the post and leave idiotic comments months after the fact. Nobody sees their shit except me and... I don't like it.
I view them as gutless wonders. And severely retarded to boot. That's who I meant by "Don't bore me and I won't hurt you". Notch'all. (Not y'all... for those who don't spell "Suthin'"...) Anyhoo...
I have a little tip for ya's.
IF ya try to kill yerself on a calf-shit covered board and hafta clean a buncha stalls about 12 hours later, it's a good idea... nay...a GREAT idea to take about 3 or 4 Ibuprofen for breakfast before ya start forkin'. I didn't feel a THING this morning.
Ever'thaaang went much better than I expected.
Nary a limp, ache or pain anywhere.
*grin* I've even got our horse's shit done.
All they need is to be brought in later.
Stalls are clean, they've been watered, hayed and oated... oats-ed? Whatever.
They's done. I was gonna come home, turn on this kickASS radio station (98.5, I forget the call-letters, but they play some gooood shit) and power through the houseshit, BUT....
Eric is off today and when I got home this morning, he had eggs, bacon, fried potatos and toast waitin' for me.
Now all I wanna do is go find a warm place, circle around three times, lay down, curl up in a ball and go to sleep. 'Course, this may also have something to do with the fact that I fell asleep on the livingroom floor again last night. I was watching The Sound of Music ("blubbering through" is more like it) and I also wanted to be sure I'd get up in time and just about the time they fled Austria, I fled "Awakeness". Til some dipshit woke me up fuckin' rappin' on Showtime at the Apollo. Half asleep, I snatched up the remote and looked for a got-damned TEST PATTERN, or something, so I could have PEACE. Gawd almighty DAMN, I hate rap...
Then too, if I'm asleep, that sryupy, stringy, shitty theme song from Highway to Heaven will also wake me up in a remote grabbin' hurry.
*shaking head*
Lord, give me strength, ya know? Swear ta Gawd, I'd rather hear a bull bellowing with his balls caught in a vise than rap. Or Highway to frickin' Heaven, fer piss sake.
*shudder* Fingernails scrapin' on a blackboard is an improvement over that noise.... On that melodic note, I think I'm outta here.
I also "think" I'mina go find that warm spot.
(I say "think" because there is a distinct possiblity I may fall asleep on the stairs as I head for the bed. Falling UP stairs is a family trait, I do believe. Me and Dad do that ever' time. Never fall DOWN stairs... oh no. Can't have that. WE hafta fall up 'em... go figger...) Peace, y'all...
Posted by: Stevie at 01:00 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Processing 0.01, elapsed 0.0674 seconds.
37 queries taking 0.0554 seconds, 70 records returned.
Page size 112 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.