caughtintheXfire

January 22, 2007

I have issuuuuuuuues...

Scene: Dinner tonight at one of the area's nicer restaurants for the "Employee Appreciation" dinner.

Seated at the table are me, Sr., Jr., George, one of the night girls and one of the Bosses sons.

Sr., in looking around, notices that the Boss and his wife are at different tables.
He leans over to me and whispers about it...

"Hey. Didja notice that the Boss and his wife aren't sitting together?"

"................"

I'm pretty much speechless, lest I open my mouth and any one of the 4900 one-liners that have instantly entered my mind escapes.

I just nodded and let it go (by biting my tongue so hard my dead mom felt it).

Coupla minutes later, the bosses son makes the same observation to Sr.

Sr. says, "Yeah. I just mentioned that to her..."

And, I jump in and before I even know I'm gonna, I hear me say, "And when you did, it almost made my head explode because the first thing that wanted to come outta my mouth was, 'Well, maybe one of them's a little gassy tonight' and I can't say that..."

Sr chimes in with, "Well, ya just DID.", which in turn makes me start to giggle, along with everybody else at the table (thank Gawd), as Sr. turns 17 shades of red and actually begins to melt offa his chair to a possible hiding spot under the table.

Later on, as we're being served dinner, I hear a child's voice from behind me at another table say, "This smells like crab.", which it was.

At my own table, I say, outloud to myself, "Gawd, I need help." after hearing that.
That's because the first thing my brain gave me upon hearing that remark was to want to turn to said child and say, "Well, it's if it smells like fish that there may be a problem."

See?

Like I said... I have issues.

(And, for the record, I know the saying is something like "If it smells like fish, eat all you wish" BUT... if anything on me smelled like a fish, that'd be a problem, believe me.
What is with that dopey saying, anyway?)

(Oh, and before I forget... yes, three days, max. (I'm answering an earlier comment. Be right back...) One day coming in, one day here, and one day goin' away. That's the reason why I always loved that T-shirt that says "Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die." I'd see some guy wearing that and point out to whomever cared to listen that, yes, that is correct. Especially since mine's only three days, I keep tellin' ya's I ain't like most women and see now? There's proof. You can too trust me.

Is-sues.
I got 'em...
*giggle*)

Okay, I'm done...

So, at this dinner, I came up with a plan.
A plan that only I can fulfill.

Screw losing weight.
I'm gonna gain a bunch, tie a bandanna around my head, throw on my duster, stop censoring myself in public and become the new Sam Kinison with boobs.

It could work.
I have the bent-headed mind-set for it, I feel about the same way about women he did, screaming quite often would be no problem for me, and I love the kind of humor Sam did.
Comes naturally to me.

I'd love that.

Then, as my brain gives me these riffs, I could actually just let loose and say 'em.... God, that'd be awesome.
Such a sweet release, such a relief...

And, even moreso 'cause it's a female saying it.

Yeah, man...

*stares off, into the distance, imagining it*
(wearing the most shit-eatin' grin ever, btw...)

Anyway...

We're all home, they're all in bed, my house is clean, I'm (still) in my new sparkley sweater, sweats, and my bunny slippers and I'm about to go start simultaneously baking cookies and cleaning a carpet.

Oh, and it's sn-wording again.

Yes, AGAIN.

Did it yesterday, didn't amount to shit, is doing it again tonight and I don't care.

I don't have aaaaany place at all I need to be anytime soon, the house is clean, yadda, yadda, so sn-word, piss up a flagpole, okay?

Show up, leave, accumulate... whatever.

My and warm soft warm sweater, sweats, and slippers wave warm chocolate chip cookie smell in your general direction.

Keep it up and, I swear, I'll make hot chocolate.

The more you try to intrude on my world, the more "anti-sn-word" I'm gonna make it.

So there.

And, I still hold dear my dream of owning the world's largest, Tim-Taylor-more-power-arg-arg-arg flame thrower that I could stand outside with when you start your shit and melt your ass before you can even hit the ground.

Turn your ass right into rain.
Rain that has enough sense to drain away, unlike you, who hangs around getting dirtier and uglier as time goes by but who never seems to want to BE GONE ALREADY.

Know what I'm sayin'?

I'm saying I hate you, white shit.

Go back to wherever you were til the 21st of this month.

I didn't miss you and I won't ever.

I promise.

Now, piss off, howsabout?

(I swear by all that is Holy, I will live in Georgia, a place where snow is a novelty, a place where winter=50 freakin' degrees, before I die.)

Peace, y'all...

Posted by: Stevie at 11:40 PM | Comments (24) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

And...

It's (pretty much) done.

All that's left, really, is mopping the kitchen floor and cleaning the hell outta the one in the front room again.

Other than those two tiny items, everything else I could see needed doing or think of to do is done.

As is my back.

I am mere moments from undoing the two ponytails I have goin' and goin' ta bed for a while.

If I get up at a halfway decent time, I need to run to the dentist real quick and get him to re-bend one clip on the "dental device".

Then, tonight, we have an "Employee Appreciation" dinner to go to, for which I bought a new black sweater with sparkles in it.
Not sequins.. just little sparkles.

That, black jeans and my clogs.

That's me "dressed up".

Me not dressed up is still a black sweater, sweats instead of jeans, and still my clogs if the sweats are long enough.
If not, I go with my Bender boots, appropriately untied.

If I make any kinda fashion statement at all, it's "Don't look, Ethel!", I swear...

Well, while I'm waiting for my damned bathroom to be vacated, I think I'm gonna go take care of GR.

Y'all take care.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 06:43 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 21, 2007

And, *poof*, just like that... it's gone.

Thank God and bye see ya, wouldn't wanna be ya.

Yes.
My little terrorist buddy has pretty much fucked back off to the depths of Hell from whence he springs.

And, thanks to the dryer requiring smaller and smaller loads in order for it to be able to get it's arthritic old ass tumblin', I've done appriximately 4,972 loads of wash, with only "our whites" and Jr.'s full-to-spilling-over laundry basket full left to do.

Dishes I've got close to done, too.
Plastic shit is now drying, with insulated coffe cups and silverware soaking and pots and pans on deck.

After they're done, I'm taking Donnie up to the tub for a swim while I clean her cage.
Tub's already full.
(And, ya wanna know something (else) weird that I do? Before I fill the tub for the duck, I always rinse it real good. Like, God forBID the duck get our bath cooties on her or something. And, for the record, after she gets out, I hafta SCOUR the damned thing.)

Speaking of the bathroom, which I kinda was, I've got that done, cleaning-wise.
Even re-arranged it a little.
Looks good.

Anyway, after I do Donnie's cage, I'm gonna do the rabbit and see what the rooster's look like and probably do them, too.
While I'm in that area and have shit moved around, gonna go on and dump the cat boxes, too.

Then, in the living room, there's a coupla cat boxes, a coupla trash cans and some vacuuming.

Get done soon enough, maybe I'll bake a cake.

We'll see.

Meanwhile, I've got the Blue Collar guys keeping me company while I "git 'er done" and, if they go off, I've got movies out da ass, so...

I'll make it.

Tawk to yiz later.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 12:42 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 20, 2007

I hate my uterus...

Rilly, ah do.

Fuckin' thing.
Guess what showed up the other day, for REAL this time, and is being a total pain right in the... yes, ASS.

That's right.
My little long absent, not-at-ALL-missed lil terrorist buddy.

The last few months have been very easy, to say the least.

Just the occasional "tracer shot", as it were.
Didn't even warrant cotton corks.

I loved it.

Except for the fact that my legs looked like umbella stands a coupla times, I loved it.

Then, a few days ago, I remember, I got instantly pissed about some damned thing... oh, yeah, I backed onto the dog leash snap and thought it was a cat tail or paw and watusi-ed off it, then, when I saw it was a stupid leash snap, I kicked it outta the way.
For about 30 thirty seconds...
(Meaning, I kicked it around for about 30 seconds, getting it outta the way. Tol' ya I was pissed.)

Then, stupid shit starts making me tear up.
An Olsen twin makes me laugh.
That's when I know I'm in deep doo-doo.

Sure enough, the night of the day I went to the dentist (Christ man. My sentence structure, not to mention word usage would be greatly improved if I'd stop smokin' long enough to remember the names of days, huh?), it arrives.

Big time this time.

Not worse than before.
Just like before.
Except this time, the three days are feeling like year.

If I'm right, today is day 3.

Well, good.
Can't go 'way soon enough.

This house has gone as close to hell in a Hefty bag as I want it to get.

Gonna take me a solid hour of washing dishes to get them done.
The fuckin' dryer is acting like a coding cardiac patient and yeah, hookin' the stupid thing to my car battery, hollering "Clear!" and turning the key is starting to seem like a good idea.

And, of course, there's laundry.

Speaking of which, I need laundry soap, among other assorted shit, so a trip to ye olde Giant is on the list, too.

*sigh*

And, oh hell.... I supposed these people around here are kinda hopin' I'll cook dinner today, too.

Yeah. I suppose I will, too.
Right after I excavate the counter tops out there.
(Dishes, remember?)

God.

Anyway...

I'll be back some... week.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 04:32 PM | Comments (2338) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 19, 2007

Dead 60's singers and kitten names...

Looks like Mama Cass finally got her man.

Denny's dead.

That sucks.

Twice, even, because the one member of the Mama's and Papa's that I detest is the only one left.
*heaves disgusted sigh*

Whatever.

Now, on to the kitten....

Jr. brought this kitten in months ago.
It's black and white, with long hair and... a total goofball.
I love this damned cat.
*rolls eyes*

Anyhoo... "we" thought it was a girl and so, named her Dixie.

Yesterday, "Dixie" was using my lap for a jungle gym while I was in the library, necessitating me to catch "her" once when she nearly fell and thus woulda stopped her fall herself by shoving those grappling hooks she calls "nails" into my bare thigh.

Not having that.
Again.
(My goddamned legs already look like they're owned by the world's most uncoordinated six year old, for the scrapes and shit on 'em...)

Anyway, cat slips, I grab... HIM.

Oops.
What was that I felt BY ACCIDENT with my finger?
Was that... little tiny furry BALLS?

Judging by the "goosed!" expression on the cat's face, I'd say it was.

So, I checked again.

Mind you, this is a LONG-HAIRED cat, so, I turned him around, blew on his ramparts to part his hair and sure 'nuff... little tiny furry balls.

So, now I have a boy cat who wants to know what he ever did to me that I named him "Dixie" and a "wft?" expression on his face.

(He'd probably also like my fascination with, and the blowing on of, his ass explained, but... I had to think of a new, MALE name...)

I've been reading a lot of Lewis Grizzard lately.
I miss Rob even more than I miss Lewis, too.

Lewis or Rob?
Hmmmm....

Well, other Suth'n boys have two first names...

How about Lew Rob?

Lewrob, Le-e-ewrob, Lewrob.
Lewrob, Lewrob-LI, I sang as that Irish song entered my brain.

Then, my brain spits out, "RobaLew!" a la Ricky Ricardo.

So, now I can't decide.

Whiiiiich one?

Irish or Cuban?

Y'all decide.

Posted by: Stevie at 06:30 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Ripples and legacies...

A man was born in Kentucky about a half a century ago.
He moved to Georgia, his life exploded and he started a weblog, creating ripples... nay, WAVES, in the pools of many lives.
Then, he left this particular stage of existence and his legacy began.

Six and a half months later, six and a half months after this man has gone from here...

One of his friends in Georgia emails another of this man's friends in Pennsylvania who, in turn, calls yet another of his friends in Canada and thus is born, onto the man's (moved-to-a-new-server, soon to be "re-launched") weblog, a permanant sidebar fixture for people who care to hear the man's music.

Six and a half months and this man's influence, his legacy, is STRONG and still growing, if the love of his friends is any indication.

"Ceaseless quest for adoration", hum?

I think you've got it, Darlin'.
You were living in the midst of it all along.

I hope/pray/wish that you really, really knew that.

Posted by: Stevie at 05:53 PM | Comments (91) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

I have a musical house...

I don't know if we've skipped from Fall right into Spring or what, but it's windy enough today to fly a box "that a refrigerator comes in", let alone a box KITE.

This keeps up, we're gonna be the "New Chicago".
(Hope we also get the excellent rock group of the same name...)

Anyway, thanks to all this wind, I've discovered today that this house is very musical.

Well, the livingroom is, anyway.

Sitting here, I can hear the wind hooting in and around various orafices (of the house, not me) and it sounds kinda like a flute.

A Civil War flute.

It's damned near playing a sensible tune, too.

Add to that the "percussion" of the bucket of calf minerals in the basement that has the hose and clicky pump that sounds almost like a heartbeat late at night to pump the minerals through the hose from the basement to the nearby calf barn water troughs and this place is damned near a one-house band.

Now, if this shit turns into that fife and drum tune that I seem to recall Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck playing as they limp off into the sunset in one of their cartoons, I'll be taking the kitchen TV, the DVD player, my CD player, many DVD's and CD's and the damned coffee pot and locking myself in the bathroom for a really long time.

Or until it's been ascertained that it's CONFEDERATE guys in the band....

Toodely toot toot yerself, house.
ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk...

Posted by: Stevie at 04:34 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 17, 2007

Okay, be forewarned, here...

Tell me "Bite me" now, and I will 'cause I can.

I've got my "dental device".

Took a little longer to get back from the lab than he anticipated, but... it's here, in my mouth, now.

Feels like I have a whole buncha stuff in my mouth.

Told Doc that and he said, "You do. Teeth."
Meaning in the back there, but it still made me laugh when he said that.

Front feels totally normal.
But, I feel like a have a pinch between the cheek and gum in the back.
Other than that, no pinches or pokes anywhere, though...

And now, I have to get used to being able to say "s"'s the original way again.
Been trying so hard not to be heard sayin' 'em wrong for so long that saying them the original "correct" way is weird now.

But, I also feel like I could just rip a steak in half with my bare teeth.

*big toothy grin*

George got home from work right after I got back, so he's seen 'em.

Jr. & Sr. are still working and I was gonna run out there and just grin at 'em, but... it's COLD out there (damn it) and I decided to just hang in here and let them come in from work, all natural-n-shit, and see how long it takes 'em to notice.

Meanwhile, I'm gonna go try to find a good chicken-coating-for-deep-frying recipe.

*signs off singing, "I feel like chicken tonight..." (Remember that stuff?)*

Posted by: Stevie at 04:58 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

I need to be dragged off and shot...

For two reasons.

Not only is "Full House" on my TV, that stupid Olsen twin playing Michelle just made me laugh right out loud.

She's in the last heat of a soapbox derby and she's racing a snotty little boy.

He makes some kinda snide remark about her car while they're on the line and she looks back at him and says, "My Daddy told me if I can't say anything nice not to say anything at all."

She looks forward for a beat, then turns back to him and says, "Well, my Daddy isn't here and you're a WEENIE!"

Stupid shit's still makin' me laugh...

Posted by: Stevie at 04:28 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 15, 2007

Allow me to be a DJ for a second...

Wanna have the time and temp on record...

It's about twenty of twelve and 61 degrees.

I'm just sayin'...
*grin*

Posted by: Stevie at 11:38 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 14, 2007

Moving that table...

Best idea I've ever had.

Remember I said I moved the table in the front room to halfway into the kitchen last week or whenever it was?

Well, it's turning out really well... my idea, that is...

I put the new Monopoly game that Santa brought us on the table after I got it moved and everything all cleaned and done and...
the bait worked.

Me, Sr. and Jr. have played several times so far.
Sr. has some kinda friggin' mojo with this particular game, though and ALWAYS kicks ass.

Last night, we got George into a game.

After that was over, George went to bed and Sr. and I played Uno for hours.

Then... we... we got.... we got LAID!!!!

Wow.

Much fun as it is sitting around playing various board games, sex is even more fun.

I'd forgotten.
So sue me.

And, when I came up with the whole "move the table and actually make it so it's in a place and postition to be utilized by people for something other than a place to thrown shit when they come in the door", it never extended much beyond "Maybe I can get us to playing some games, too", which worked out GREAT.

I never thought it'd lead to sex.

Just wow.

Of course, when you're talking "young" people, ROOT CANAL can lead to sex, but... when yer middle-aged, it's Monopoly, all the way, Baby. (Pun most definitely intended...)

Monopoly and "interior design", or re-design.

Move a table, buy Monopoly, use together and voila!

Nekkididity abounds.

And, considering that we had to wait for everybody, one of whom is an apparent insomniac teenager, to go to bed and stay there long enough to be down for the count and you can see how this is even more difficult to pull off.

Need to have two out of three asleep and I NEVER get the right two being asleep.

It's always George and Sr. who're gone, leaving me with the insomniac teenager.

Or, Sr. and Jr. will be passed out in various crash positions in front of the TV, leaving me and George and we didn't have sex the last year we were together, so why would we now, it'd be even more like incest than EVER these days, so... me ending up with the right two people passed out and the correct one actually coherant is a miracle on the level of a planetary alignment that would give an astronomer a woody.

So, this is a pretty cool Sunday.

Jr.'s at work, George is in Virginia getting cigarettes and Sr. is passed out asleep in his chair.

And, me?

Well, I've done GR, cruised around and did some reading while I had my first cuppa coffee, and at some point, I'm gonna get dressed and go to the store and make dinner later and take care of random shit in the meantime and enjoy doing it all.

Get my shit done quick enough and I might even spend some time soaking in the tub, reading...
again.

Meanwhile, I just got my second cuppa coffee and I'm headin' back upstairs for a bit.

Back later.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 03:03 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 13, 2007

Damn, Cat...

Whatchoo tryin' to do, kill me?

Nursery Rhymes for Big Kids

Mary had a little pig,
She kept it fat and plastered;
And when the price of pork went up,
She shot the little bastard.


MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB
Her father shot it dead.
Now it goes to school with her,
Between two hunks of bread.


JACK AND JILL Went up the hill
To have a little fun.
Stupid Jill forgot the pill
And now they have a son.


SIMPLE SIMON met a Pie man going to the fair.
Said Simple Simon to the Pie man,
"What have you got there?"
Said the Pie man unto Simon,
"Pies, you dumb fuck."


HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings' horses,
And all the kings' men.
Had scrambled eggs,
For breakfast again.


HEY DIDDLE, DIDDLE the cat took a piddle,
All over the bedside clock.
The little dog laughed to see such fun.
Then died of electric shock.


GEORGIE PORGY Pudding and Pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
And when the boys came out to play,
He kissed them too 'cause he was gay.


There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good, she was very, very good.
But when she was bad........
She got a fur coat, jewels, a waterfront condo, and a sports car.

I damned near choked to death reading these out loud to George.
Especially that next-to-last-one....
Jeezus...

*slithers outta chair laughing*

Posted by: Stevie at 03:03 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Semi-fisking a horoscope...

I say "semi-fisking" because unlike a regular fisking, where you tear whom- or whatever a new a-hole, this time I agree with what was said and will only be fisking it inasmuch as I'll be using that form of expression/writing/exchange/give-and-take... whatever... to tell ya about it.
("It" being what happened a little while ago...)


January 13, 2007
Today's Outlook: The intense Scorpio Moon intermittant boneheadedness of teenagedness sets the stage for an emotionally powerful day as Scorpio's two ruling planets, Mars and Pluto boneheaded teenagedness and the "get-the-hell-off-my-lawnness" of middle age, conjoin in a fiery show of passion butting of the heads.

Yes. If you don't use the common sense God gave ya and therefore decide it's a good idea to shoot within my earshot, no pun intended, it will lead to a... to an unharmonius situation. A temporary unharmonius situation.


This suggests could lead to volcanic eruptions of feelings, displays of suppressed rage Taurean horns and struggles for control much snorting and pawing.... at Sr.

Yes, at Sr. because the other day, when he and Jr. got into their first ever screaming match outside and I heard it and thought it was just anybody but Jr. causing Sr. to scream like that and went out to KILL the motherfucker then found out it was Jr. and then, later, most certainly DID discuss this with Sr., "we" came to the conclusion that, since Jr.'s his kid and this situation pissed me off, Sr. would handle it. (Besides which, it was over and done with and Sr. was right and Jr. saw that. It was about a goddamned calf.)
Anyway, that situation had me pissed, as did this one today, when I heard the shots.
So, I bring it to Sr. to handle and he gets pissy.
WTF?
Anyone?
Bueller?

And, the only reason pawing and snorting even entered into it is because he gave me the "BC reaction" again, as if I were yelling or displaying anger, which I wasn't... at first. And and, even after he reacted like an ass, all I did was be a bit snippy back.
(Well, hey. Ask a stupid question, you'll get an equally stupid answer from me.
Know me four minutes, even, and ya know that, fer Christ's sake.)

Anyway...

Fear of loss can make matters worse unless we pay attention.

Right.
If whomever is shooting doesn't pay attention, I could lose an animal, I fear.

Taking the high road is crucial, for integrity combined with kindness can open the way for evolutionary transformation.

I realize this.

That's why, later, I'm going to bring this shit up again with both Sr. and Jr.
Seperately, I think...

Sr., I'm gonna run my "wtf?" question past him and see what he comes up with.
I really wanna understand that shit.
*exhales thru nose*
*mild sam elliot glare*

And, Jr., I'm gonna explain myself to a little and run by him the whole "teenagers WANT to not have people know what they're doing constantly, right? Right. So, on this deal, this guns and dead animals shit, I'm giving you a free pass. I don't want to know, period. KEEP IT FROM ME, please. Do. And thank you for the cease-fire this afternoon. That is all. Unless you have something..." concept.

So yeah, this horoscope got it pretty well.

Only question I have is why is this shit suddenly showing up in my mailbox?

I'm not on any lists.
I make sure of othat.
I have my spam filter on and it works.
I get, maybe, 15 emails a day and most of them are Cat.
(Love ya, Darlin'... *hug*)

I don't know why this shit started showing up a day or so ago, but, I decided to read this one just for the hell of it and whaddaya know?

Ya know?

Posted by: Stevie at 02:50 PM | Comments (3721) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 12, 2007

Holy shit...

That last post of mine has been getting comments out da ass and I didn't know it.
They're supposed to be emailed to me, but... they haven't been.
Couple that with the fact that when I tried a little while ago to get into my comments I couldn't thanks to Munu's spam warning and it makes me almost wanna ask Paul how much longer...

*sigh*

Elisson and Vis... thank you both for the recipes. Wish I had a printer hooked up. Will instead just scroll my way to them when I need 'em.

Amy and Vis... ya got it.
Did "ocean of fish, river of liver" sound familiar too?
*grin*

Kenna... HI! How ya been? And yeah, I've had a similar venison/other meat mix and it IS good. I oughta look into that.
Along with Vis's's's's's idea about what to do with that large blob of frozen stuff.

And, Mary... you NAILED it with the final disposition of that liver.
*shudder*

Now, can aaaaanybody, especially "hunter" types, maybe clue me in as to WHAT is to be done with a dead squirrel that fits into a sandwich baggie and wouldn't cost 50 bucks if it was weed?

Goddamn thing is TINY.

How the hell it was even seen to be shot is beyond me.
Or, is it standard to have Sgt. Stedenko-sized binoculars duct taped to your rifle/shotgun/squirrel-murdering-thing?
Jesus.

Are we having frickin' MINI-ME here for dinner some day or what?

Hell, even he'd need two or three of those little shits to make a meal.

This squirrel is to "a meal" what a guppy is to "a fish mounted over the fireplace".

Oh, lovely.
I just glanced at the TV in time to see James Brown dead, in his coffin.
I'm sure he'd be thrilled with that.

And, speaking of the TV... there were two couples on Dr. Phil and no, I don't make a point of watching him, it was just "on" and I didn't feel like finding the remote to change it, plus he just went off...

Anyway... these two couples... if the chick from the one couple had married and bred with the guy of the other couple, their kids woulda been born without lips, I'll bet.
Both he and she looked like they regularly eat Preperation H on Saltines or something.
Their mouths were tiny and their lips were thiiiin...
Man.

"Dear Preperation H,

I been eatin' this shit for a month and I still have hemmorhoids. Meanwhile, my mouth's so smaaaalllll I can't even eat a grape anymore.
But, I kin whistle real good..."

(Many thanks to the utterly adorable Mr. Bill Engvall for so graciously allowing to blatantly rip that riff right off from him...)
(Like he knows.)
(Or cares.)

Love ya, Bill!!!

You too, Larry.

And, Ron?
I ever get in close enough proximity, I will throw you over my shoulder and run off with you.
You is da SHIT, Dude.
Let yer ex keep the kid.
Bring the bulldog.

Anyway...

What's with the tiny squirrel?

Posted by: Stevie at 04:10 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 10, 2007

Okay, so now I need to somehow obtain an ocean of fish...

to go with the river of liver, among other things, that just got dropped off here in a box and three full paper bags.

This Boss is the coolest fuckin' Boss I've ever been around.
'Course, it probably helps a lot that I don't "officially" work for him full time...
*giggle*

But, he just did another "beef run".
Brought us hamburger, three kindsa steaks, stew cubes, friggin' liver which I refuse to eat on the grounds that there are just some things you know you won't like even before you eat 'em and, for me, liver is the #1 top thing on that list and... soup bones.

Sooouuup bones.

Uh-huh.
What it really is is two frozen together mounds of soup bones.

Now, I have a coupla questions here...

I find it hard to believe that these soup bones were "stored" in anything except the paper bags they came in and they are, indeed, very cold.
Stuck together too.

My question is this:

Am I s'posed to put 'em in the big freezer IN the paper bags?
My first instinct is to get them into plastic bags, plastic FREEZER bags, so they don't get freezer burnt.
Can I thaw them enough to break them apart or will I have to use 'em all if I let them thaw very much?
And, how many are ya s'posed to use at one time to make soup?

And...

What the HELL am I s'posed to do with the package marked "tail"?

We got liver, steaks, burger, a heart, a goddamned TONGUE and that tail.

Now, except for using the last two items as a source for ribald humor, what on EARTH do ya do with those parts?

And and, if ya have a well-meaning but somewhat not kitchen trained 18 year old who kills a deer and stuffs what MUST be 90% of said animal in one HUUUUGE freezer bag and FREEZES IT, thus creating what must be at least a 40 pound hunka frozen meat all stuck together, how do ya "fix" that?

With a SAW?
And, what kinda saw?
Jig? Chain? Band? Hand?

I have this almost nightmare vision of us having to eat an entire deer in one sitting because I can't figure out how to render it into useable sized chunks.

We won't even discuss the dead squirrels masquerading as bloody boomerangs in the freezer...
(Except, I will say, if they don't get ET, there won't be anymore KILLED.)

Anyhoo... any ideas about the frozen bones?

Posted by: Stevie at 12:01 PM | Comments (32) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 09, 2007

Want a window right in your own home that looks straight into the mountains of Georgia?

Just use this

mountains-2.jpg

as your desktop background.

I just decided to change mine and was looking through all the pictures I've got downloaded.
I was thinking of trying that one I have of Sebastian... oh, what the hell's his name? That drop dead GORGEOUS blonde musician? Man... anyway, I was thinking of using him, maybe.

Then, I saw that one... the one called "mountains2" and tried it and when I clicked "apply", and it did... I literally said out loud, "Oh my GAWD! That's amazing..."

I don't think I'll be changing this one for a while.

Posted by: Stevie at 02:38 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 08, 2007

And, since my last post...

I've whacked my head again, though not as hard and I just burnt the back of my ringfinger on my right hand on a pot of potpourrie on the stove.

I hit my head on the edge of the newly placed table while digging around in my tape/CD/miscellaneous shit cabinet by the stove.

And, the reason I was even out there to do this shit to myself is that Sr. has requested a cake.
Or cookies.
Or both.

And, since he's been really super-sweet and not the slightest bit distructive of the cleanliness, order and overall "wow" of the house so far, I'm gonna do 'em.

If I live long enough.

And, speaking of Sr....

Since the other day and especially since I got done cleaning this time, he's been excellent.

I came down this morning and noticed that half a pound of bacon was gone.
I saw that only when I opened the fridge for something else.

I saw that, did a double-take, then slowly gazed around the kitchen and was nearly awestuck by what I didn't see...

No cabinets hanging open.
No bacon left out.
No bacon just thrown into the fridge open, but not wrapped, for that matter.
No 900 dirty dishes.
No nuttin'.

Except for the frying pan in the sink, the kitchen was as I left it when I went to bed.

Okay.
So who's been cookin' bacon?

I came in here and George happened to be home from work, waiting for the weather to clear.
I asked him, "Were you here when bacon was cooked?"

"Yep."

"'Kaaay. Who did it?"

"Senior."

"---------."
(I fainted.)

No, not really, but it WAS Sr. who cooked it.
And who also didn't leave a mess.

And, just now, as I'm sitting here telling y'all this, my radio beeps and it's him again.

He asks if we have any chicken and if we do why don't I take it out of the freezer and he'll deep fry it tonight for dinner.

*stunned silence*

I literally, but gently, rapped my radio on the desktop, looked again and it still said "Ricky-poo", which is how I have him in my phone.

I then keyed up and said, "Okay. Who IS this and where'd ya find Rick's phone?"

'Ha, ha. Very funny", says he, as if it's just every DAY he says THAT kinda stuff.
"I've been wanting to do that since Christmas Day...", he continues.

"Holy SHIT, man. What next? Us getting laid? Jeeez..." I marvelled.

Holy cow.

OH! and my idea about how cool me moving the table could be actually happened!

Me, Sr. and Jr. sat there, all watching TV and playing Monopoly til almost midnight.

Sr. kicked our asses.

It was GREAT.

Then, earlier today, Sr. asks about the cake.
This, after I'd already obtained the rugburn and almost knocked myself out with my car door, but... okay.

Hope I don't burn to death, though.

Then, as I'm prepping to do that, I again hit my head looking for a CD to bake by and burn myself while de-bacon-greasing the surface of the stove (hey, can't have everything. Where would I put it?).

Then, he offers to make dinner.

Jesus.

I feel like I've stepped into some kinda of parallel universe or something.
Or, like maybe somebody kidnapped Sr. and replaced him with an almost exact replica.

(And, while I had the dictionary out, seeing whether it's "llel" or "lell", I also looked up "joss sticks" and yeah, it's incense, thankyewver'much.)

Wow.

Am I still me?

And, who da hell IS that on my radio?

Posted by: Stevie at 03:25 PM | Comments (20) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Awright... cut. Cut! Get ready for take 2...

I've been awake for less than two hours (because somebody 'round heah didn't wake me up before 8am like I asked) and already, I've had mooooore than enough of this day.

First, as I was heading up the stairs WITH A FULL CUPPA COFFEE, my stupid cat, Squirrel, who makes a CAREER outta flinging herself down in your path and trying to race UNDER your feet, literally, as you go up or down the steps, tripped me.

Lucky for her the cuppa coffee I had was one of my "go" cups with a lid.

Still...

Ow.
My knee, you bitch.

So, I regroup and go on.

To the bank.
Grab some shit from the store while I'm there and I head on home.

Get here and I'm grabbing the bags outta the backseat out front.
Cigarette in my lips.
Wind blowing.
Wind blowing my hair onto said cigarette.

So... I sling my head and, theoretically, my hair back hard to compensate for the wind.

Yeah.

Slung my head back HARD... right into the top of the backseat door frame.

Ow.
My head, ME bitch.

So.
Been awake less than two hours and already have a non-sexual RUGBURN on my knee and a(nother) knot on my head.

Well, good.
This day oughta be iiiiinteresting, huh?

Jesus.

Posted by: Stevie at 12:22 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 07, 2007

Whew.

Done.

All that needs to be done is "intensive" cleaning of the floors.
They've all been vacuumed.
They just need to either have cleaner sprayed on them or to be mopped.

Dogs are fed too.

I also lugged all four bags of animal food (two dog and two cat) into the house outta my car.
Mixed the two kinds of dry dog food together, filled all the cat food bowls and feeders, then took my boots off, finally.

Then, realized my stupid car is still next to the house as opposed to in the garage, BUT since the milk truck was here yesterday, thus won't be here today, thus it (my car) won't be in anyone's way, fuck it.

I need to call my bank.
Not for the least reason that my stupid account is over again and I just found out online and wanna let 'em know that I know now and won't make it any worse, plus I wanna know where everybody I know there is these days.

The only person I've seen lately is that woman I can't stand.

And, other people I don't know.

I swear, if the manager, Brian, is gone, I'll find another branch to go to...

*several minutes later*

Aaaanyway... the house is done and so am I, just about.

I'm hungry and I am gonna take that shower.
The hot water will feel good on my back and I think I can handle the little bit of trimming I do...

Plus, when I get undressed for my shower, my clothes will complete the last load of laundry.
For now.

So...
cuppa coffee.
Bathroom.
Become nekkid.
Start washer.
Once filled, get shower.
Be out before it fills again.
Trim hair.
Dry hair.
Ignore it if it does come out looking like a lawn mowed in the dark.
Have some oatmeal, maybe.
Go to sleep.

Sounds like a plan to me.

Til later...

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 10:59 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Still goin' and almost done (for now)...

I did it backwards this time, though.

Started upstairs, in the bathroom, and then did the front room and kitchen and now, I'm about to do the livingroom.

By the time I'm done, everything will be done except for deep/hard cleaning the carpet in the front room, mopping the kitchen floor, details in the bathroom and that cake.

I'll take care of that crap when I get up.

I did one little thing with the table and chairs out there that, as mushy as my brain is now, if I tried to explain it all, it wouldn't end well, probably
Might not end at all.
Could easily turn into one of those Edith Bunker two hour stories, so, let's just not go there right now.

Suffice it to say, I moved the stupid thing and have already thought of about four benefits of having moved it and it also has the potential to become really cool.
I kinda wanna see if anybody else around here sees that part and initiates the "what could be cool" stuff... besides me.

Meanwhile, all I have left right now is this livingroom and a little bit of wash, which I'm still working on.

I need to feed the dogs.

I'd like to get a shower, wash and trim my hair, but... I don't know how good an idea it'd be to be cuttin' my hair 2 or 3 hours from now.
'Cause, by then, I'll only be 2 or 3 more hours worth of too tired to truly see straight.
So, that may have to wait til I get up, too.

Oh and I've had the door and that window open all night long and ain't regretted it once.
Not s'much as one goosebump... not one high beam.

It's still pretty nice out there.

Actually, it's pretty damned nice inside, too, even if I do say so myself.

And, hey, before I forget again...

What are joss sticks?
Is that incense?

Back later...
(shutting up after the question so I don't "step on my own point", as it were...)

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 07:19 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

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