April 01, 2004
Holy hell...
I'm back already. I think I mighta actually slept for...what? Ummm....5 hours. 3 hours of sleep, 24 or so hours of being awake, then another 5 hours of sleep.
Well shit.
Guess I'm good to go now until sometime SATURDAY night.
(You do know, of course, that when I typed that up there, I heard the Bay City Rollers in my head spellin' it out while I had it capped? Damn right I did.
Ess-ay-tee-you-are-dee-ay-why NIGHT!!!!)
(Oh gawd...this is followed immediately, for some reason, by Dexi's Midnight Runners singing "Come on Eileen". WHY? Why does my brain do this shit to me and why are these two songs connected in there? I have no fargin' idea. I just enjoy (mostly) the concerts...ohhelpmeLord.)
For instance...there are two tonight that just sound dumb. First one is: Fossil Found of Creature that did pushups.
Immediately I think "Someone dug up Jack Palance? Is he even dead? Was that even him who did that? If it wasn't him, it was Robert Stack. Whoever it was, why are they digging up arm bones and saying so? Who needs to know this stuff? 'Fossil found of creature that did pushups'....honestly..." Then there's this one: Judge Orders Release of Energy Documents. My head says, "Exactly whom documents releases of energy, which to me sound like farts? Some man, no doubt...proud of the way he singed all the hair offa every living thing in a 300' radius, killed everything green, then blamed it on a mummified family memeber, I'll bet. And...why do judges care about fart papers, anyway? Ahhh...probably some kinda arguement about the difference between homocide and unintenional asphyxiation, or some shit. Wait...shit...fart papers...ohhelpmelord..." This is the kinda shit that gets me looked at weirdly by people. I need sleep...help...medication...something.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:55 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
'Bout damn time....
LOS ANGELES - "Saturday Night Live" and "Animal House" star John Belushi (news) is being honored posthumously with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Guess what I just got done watching, too? (TOGA!! TOGA!! TOGA!!!) The rest of the (way too short) story is here. We got George back, too. No additional kittens lately, either. My eyeballs feel as if the inside of my eyelids are made of sandpaper. Heh. I've only been awake for about 22 hrs., running on about 3 hrs. sleep. I'll be back later...Much later, probably. Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:59 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Alright...Yvonne has freaked me out twice today....
Well, in the last 24 hours, anyway...
First, yesterday morning, right after I wrote "Hey", I took a stroll on over there and saw this.
Made me laugh out loud and feel lots better since I don't do anya that shit.
Inspiring, even. And, I doubt she even knows I'm alive.
That's okay. I know she is... Thanks, Love, even though you don't know, can't know, how much your words and thoughts, feelings and posts are helping me. You're pretty fuckin' amazing, even if ya don't know it all the time. Take it from me...you are, Yvonne.
Simply amazing.
Thank you.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:32 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay...I got it...
Thank you soooo much, you guys! I really needed the input and there it is...you all are so sweet to take the time to answer. It DID help, it DID make clear what I thought to be true...that I CAN (as in I am too 'allowed' if I want to) see it as us doing pretty damned good for what we have to work with and anybody who looks down their nose at us or me for that is worse off than I'll ever be.
Now...if I could just somehow get George to pay attention to court notices BEFORE he's compelled to have face-to-face conversations 'with a judge in the morning' by huge, uniformed, armed people and could manage to somehow convince Eric that constantly interrupting me and talking over me makes me feel like he doesn't care what I'm saying one bit, as if I'm the ex, or something. We joke about me sounding to him like Charlie Brown's teacher when I say anything, but I think it's really true.And, no, I don't think everything I say is some golden nugget of wisdom or anything, it's just to be so 'dismissed', especially by him, hurts. Even moreso when he does it in front of other people. Like I count even less than they do to him, or something. I dunno. I do it too, but only when I'm pretty damn sure I know where yer going and then, only to make it easier for the person trying to explain shit. I don't do it to drive home a tired, old, worn out, untrue bit of non-humor...which the point of each time is erroneously that I really, secretly think Eric sucks, is ugly, is stupid and I'm gonna hate him no matter how he does anything.
I've NEVER said anything remotely like that to him.
She did, though.
It's just that I wish with all my bruised up heart he could tell the damned difference between me and IT by now....ya know? However...not everything sucks like a ShopVac. Lamar had another kitten sometime earlier today.
That makes three and I'm certain she's done now. I was wondering after the first two. I palpated her and thought I felt one more in there. She did this the last time too. Goofball.
But, the baby is fine. This one is also white but with black, dark black, not gray spots and more of a Holstein pattern than Appaloosa.
And, yes...PICTURES!!! I will, even before life gives me a friggin' break...unless of course, y'all WANT to see pictures of the kittens college graduations...I don't know... I'm gonna go read some blogs for a while. Then, I'll either post some more stuff, go to bed, or whatever. I really don't know yet.
My nerves are so fried, I'm not sure what to do about anything, really, but...Many thanks to all of you, at least I didn't lose any ground to that snot at the clinic. She tried, but all she managed to do was bend me back, not take steps back and y'all have got me upright again, so thank you again.
I hope God blesses every single one of you 10 times more than he has me.
(Or ever does....every single time.) *Hugs*
&
Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 01:17 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 31, 2004
Hey...
How's everybody? This has been a looong assed however-many-hours-it's-been-since-I-was-here-last.
Eric is doing good. Swellings down, he's got an appointment to see a dentist Friday and either get the offending tooth yanked then, or Monday. Either way...he's okay, so far, so great. Thank you, God.
The kittens are also fine. She only had two. They're both white with gray spots here and there. They kinda look like lil tiny gray-spotted Holsteins or Appaloosas.
I know...I can hear ya's....."PICTURES!!!!!" I'm gonna try. Be really helpful if'n I had a camera and the set up for this stuff...BUT. I've got a load of other pictures to send to Paul, so...I can always take more and send them, too. THAT kinda camera I do have. So...it may take a bit, but I can do this. I'll also just go on and take pictures of everything around here...EXCEPT ME...and send them, too. (Most of the pictures already being sent are me, so hush...lol)
I really need to know these things. I have to define myself, for my own sanity and I want the truth, because it can't possibly hurt me more than I do. Ready? Define "white trash". You can include "trailer trash", too. What is that? WHO is that? What makes a person "trash", white, trailer or other kinds? And...if a person IS 'trash', is it permanant? Is it like a reverse 'birthright' or is it something you can change? And...whose opinions matter to you guys about yourselves? Who do you guys hope you don't look like 'trash' to, if you do sometimes feel like that? Yeah, this is a big one. But, I feel like if I can chop, cut, hack and burn my way through this, I may come out better than ever on the 'other side' of this depression. Maybe.
Hell...can't be worse, cause 'worse' is dead and dead ain't even scary anymore.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:25 AM | Comments (17) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 30, 2004
Hello babies!!!
Lamar is having her kittens!!!! I knew she was wantin' something earlier, so I set her up a clothes basket with a big ol' towel in it and put it under this desk. She's been in it all day and I just heard a baby squeak. Grabbed a flashlight and sure enough...number one is here!
I'll keep ya's posted... (Oh yeah...and I cruised right on through post number 666, too. It was that last one...) (Except, now that I think about it, my period got here AND that fossil-fucker, Joe, called today, too, so see? There is TOO evil in that number...lol) I'mina go finish becoming a Grammy again.I'll be back...
Peace Update @ 1:11am...Number two just showed up...
Posted by: Stevie at 12:28 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 29, 2004
Still here...
Just remembered this....
- Pitbull::great dogs, moron owners.
- TD::friggin' stupid football, unless, of course, Dallas is playing.
- Carter:
oor dumb bass-tid...then, of course 'liver pills'.
- Japan::John Lennon/his Japanieces
- 50::good golf score, bad number of cops to find at your door.
- Streak::Ray Stevens and Ethel.
- Rifle::through paperwork, immediately followed by: the sound of a round being chambered and me yelling "Hey, Hunter!!! RUN!!!!" then taking aim (while deer giggle)*
- Trap::legholds/animals or children/men...either way, they suck.
- Easter::Barry White-sounding bunny in the Cadbury Egg commercials.
- Mitt::Big hands.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:24 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well hell...
Again...I is a dork. I didn't bother noting where I found either of these tests when I saved 'em last night....sigh.
So...if ya recognize it from your site, let me know and I'll do the linkage. I taste a bit like Almonds.Mmm, the taste of almonds - anathema to many with nut allergies, and a bad sign for many more, as my taste is not unlike that of cyanide. Am I good or am I poison? A risky thing to guess about. What Flavour Are You? |
Cheese Test: What type of cheese are you? Heh. Hadda go snag my own picture of American cheese for that one. I used their code, which was supposed to have the cheese included, but...it didn't, so I did it myself.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:13 PM | Comments (34) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well...we're still alive...(so far)...
He's feeling better, the swelling is down quite a bit. Now, or as soon as it's down a bit more, he's gotta get an appointment and get a tooth pulled. Lawd, I hate that shit....ugh.
In the meantime, it's getting to be Ibuprofen time for me, too. (He was told to take it if he had a fever...) Wish that was what I needed it for, but nooooo...course not.
Stupid cramps. Stupider hormonal attitude. Stupidest idea ever, even having these things...especially me. Ain't had a kid, ain't GUNNA have a kid, therefore, need no uterus, cramps or other associated horseshit.
I did laugh my ass of at this, however.
So, neither of us is 100%, but we are both fine. Thank you, Lord.
Soooo....we'll see. Alright, this is gonna make me sound nuts, I suppose, but...I'm watching the second Brady movie and the fake Mr. Brady just got done tripping from the 'shrooms Alice used in his spaghetti sause. Well...not only am I fucked up for even having taped this movie (and admitting it), I also love that "Good Morning, Starshine" song that plays while he trips. Whoever sang that has one hell of a voice.
Forgive THIS heretical opinion, but...we need more songs like that again these days, as opposed to the purile garbage that passes for music. Most of it is just shit compared to that song and the eternally classic rock from the 70's. There's just no comparison. Plus, I'm convinced that if people (young people too) would just LISTEN to it, the great 70's guitar rock, they'd LOVE IT and turn away from this horrible excuse for music we're stuck with these days.
(Great. Now, I'm not only 'a woman who is pissy because of her impending period'...I'm an OLD woman, blah blah blah. Siiiigh.) Aaaanyway... I've got a few tests in draft mode, so I'm gonna post them, then probably go.....be crampy elsewhere for a while, I guess. I dunno.
One thing's fer damn sure...between the cake, the cookies and the pudding, there's enough chocolate in this house to get through just about anything...lol. I shall return. Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:32 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 28, 2004
I'm back...
Actually, I have been for about two hours. (Three now, after typing all this...)
After it was all said and done this morning, I think I went to bed around 7, 7:30. Got up around 2:00pm and...
*Deep breath*
They're....draining...his...tooooottthhh.... *Fanning self rapidly while eyelids flutter* (I swear...between this shit and what Antisocial is going through, I'm gonna frow up, I thwear...) God.
But, yes...they are doing...that. To him. Now. *Swallowing hard* I am remaining calm.
See? Ahem. Anyway...this is what's going on and this is what I'm doing. Well, typing is what I'm doing, but it's all a part of it. Believe me. Anything to keep my mind occupied. 'Cause see, if I don't, then I'm gonna take a little walk out into the woods, chew down a tree with my bare teeth (teeth again) and then freak...meaning cry my ass off. I sooo hate it when this shit happens to him. It's never anything little, either. He's had a swelling involving teeth before...he had an ear infection last summer that required multiple trips to the clinic and last winter (not THIS one...last year) he had to have hernia surgery.
I have a hard enough time with this 'fixable', spaced out stuff. I can't even begin to imagine trying to have to handle his riding bulls every friggin' week. Even if he lived, unlike Lane Frost, he could still bleed and get hurt. Crippled, even. Hearing about his wrecks, or even just dismounts from successful rides, has a worse effect on me than fingernails drug across a blackboard. I writhe in my seat (and SOUL!) hearing about the blood and the point of contact between him and the bulls hooves or horns. It kills me.
And, people (including me) thought I had a death wish?
Pffft.
Not like that, I didn't.
Not that I blame him. Believe me, death WAS better than what he was doin' when he wasn't trying to die strapped to a ton of pissed off steak. Aaaanyway...*another deeep breath*.....I hafta go remain calm (heh) while feeding the horse and other assorted 'busy work', so I won't have a stroke. I'll letcha's know what I find out, when I find it out.
Oh...and I already told Bill to expect him to be off tomorrow, too. I asked if he needed a Doctor's note, which Eric oughta be getting anyway, or was this (I made a 'bulging' motion at the side of my neck) enough? *Beep, bepp!!*
(Nextel radio...hang on a sec...) Okay, they've just started...AN I.V.!!!! and when that's done, they'll be coming home and I'mina go fall out someplace now...*shudder*
An I.V.??? Jeez, man. *Death-grip on arms of chair to help maintain equalibrium during ensuing headrush*
(This is MUCH better when chemically induced, lem'me tell ya...) Holy shit. That poor Baby. I can't even believe this shit. Why does shit always happen to him? He is such a sweet man. He does NOT deserve this...this painful kinda crap. Why can't it ever be a simple puke-fest or something? gawd.... Anyway, Bill said if he didn't feel good, of course he didn't hafta (or shouldn't is what he said) work, but his eyes were lookin' like he'd like to have the note, but didn't have the cajones to look me in the eye and say so.
Good.
I reminded George to get one anyway.
I'm weird that way. If he had said "Yes, please do", I'd have hated him for it. But, since he restrained himself and used (semi-) common sense, NOW I'll go on and make sure he does get it.
I'm not sure what to call that aspect of me, but I'm like that A LOT about things...especially things that relate to Eric.
If anybody has any theories about it, I'd loooove to hear 'em. Brutal hontesy is welcomed. Simple brutality is not. In related news, George and I decided to hell with going to the store. None of the above mentioned items are necessary enough to delay Eric's getting back here and making his 'nest', so, the kids can just have some more spagettsa..ya know? Second-day spaghetti is the best spaghetti, anyhoo. Plus, there's still cake and the cookies, so they'll be fine.
They gotta start getting ready to go to be home by 7:30, 8:00pm, so....
You know. Okay...I'm gonna go for now.
As always...
I shall return. Peace.
(And, a little for Eric, too, if I may request it of ya, God. Thanks.) Update @ 6:05p...I just finished out the living room. Now, whenever he does get here, he can get his shit, his remote and whatever else he wants and get all nestled into the big lounge chair and just veg.
I'm getting ready to go take care of Storm, shortly.
They're not quite done yet. Last word was: still waiting for the IV to finish AND...the xray to come back. Now, THAT can't be good.
Betcha the xray was easier, though. I hate that at the dentist's office. "Here. I want you to take this CREDIT CARD and JAM IT INTO YER ALREADY SORE TEETH AND GUMS, then stay that way, while I run screaming from the radiation, til I decide to mosey on back in here, sometime NEXTWEEK. Oh...and...don't gag! Cheerio!!"
Bastards. Additional update: Heaven help us all...JON just radio-ed me to see if I wanted him to get Eric anything at the store! And, I WAS NICE AGAIN!!! WOW!! (Who am I?) lol...
He's gonna get him an industrial sized can of chocolate pudding. (lmao...)
I realize that may sound a little twisted, but, first of all, we're thinking 'invalid food' and, second, at late as this morning, swelling notwithstanding, Eric was eating those cookies. The boy loves his chocolate. What can I say?
I already have fake mashed potatos here and I suppose we can go get him some 'cream of' soups, once we figure out which ones he wants, but this is...*gulp*...sweet of Jon to do. (I AM in a parallel universe, right? I must be. I just told John "Thank you" because he just told me he's getting Eric the ton-sized can of pudding AND jello....wow...lol.) Okay...so...the living room is ready, invalid food is being obtained and they could be on their way back, altho, I think George'll call and let me know that, too. He's been really cool about keeping me up with what's going on. I'm not sure if I wanna hear what the doctor said or not. I have this feeling it's gonna start with "It's a DAMNED good thing you didn't wait any longer to get here...." and get worse from there. This poor guy.
Such a sweetie to have such awful shit happen to him. (But...ya know what? In all honesty, yes, it really could be worse, eh, David? *grin* He knows what I'm talkin' about. This is 'fixable'-even if it was too friggin' close for comfort on getting started fixing it-. Ex-wife shit often isn't...at all. So...... ya know?) I'm outta here again.
I'll be back again, too.
New post, ext time, though. Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 05:21 PM | Comments (41) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Runnin' on empty...
Tea's made, wash is 95% done, cake is iced and in the frig and I have the last batch on cookies on deck, while the next-to-the-last ones get done.
I can't wait to lay down.
Much more of this, I'mina need an ambulance to drive me to bed.
Peace Oh hey...wanna know which, out of the dozens of tollhouse cookies I make each time, is my favorite one?
The last one...but not because I'm tired.
The last cookie is my favorite one because it's the one comprised of the scrapings of the bowl and is therefore a little bigger and usually chipless.
I love that one.
Posted by: Stevie at 05:18 AM | Comments (37) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hokay...
Let's see if I can remember all this...
First of all, I am currently cruising into my 26th hour of wakefulness, without any chemical assisstance at all. Not even that "Ephedra Free" shit. Just caffeine, nicotine and Lord only knows what the rest is...just this energy and progress.
Let's see... Fell asleep from about 7:30pm til midnight Friday night. Got up, came out here and screwed around, reading my blogroll, til around 7:15am. That's when a friend of mine called and said they'd be stopping by in a bit.
Alrighty, then...Best git my ass in gear, huh? In about an hour, I did the dishes, straightened up the kitchen, dining room and bathroom, took out the trash (alll the way out to the dumpster, too), cleaned, fluffed and deodorized the catboxes...what else? I dunno.
All I do know is that when they got here, they never even made it into the house, because E & G were working on the 'Bird. Yeah, the 'new one'. (It's acting all gaggy and sputtery and shit....sigh.) Anyhoot, everybody stayed outside.
When I got back in here, I got back ON here. A little while later, I'm informed that Bill, the guy who usually drives me nuts, has volunteered his pickup to go get the kids for the weekend. George was supposed to have gotten them Friday night, but, thanks to the Birds new neurosis, he didn't. So, since the kids are coming (again) now, now I have more shit I need to get done. (Besides the shit I already had...like making damned sure the insurance payment was mailed and postmarked with the right date and all...)
After George and I got done running to the P.O., he left for Joisey and I got busy on the house again.
By the time they got back here (4:30/5:00 or so), I had everything (standard cleaning-wise, not "spring" cleaning-wise) done, except all the wash done and some stuff in the living room.
I even rotated my onions. (Meaning I finally threw out all the old ones with bad attitudes and kept the good ones, of course.)
So, I did do some detail crud, but mostly, I managed to get it back to the point from which knocking out 'spring-cleaning' one room a day or so, isn't such a monstrous proposition anymore.
When they all got back, G & I went to the pharmacy to get Eric some Oragel Max. Poor sweetheart has a toothache-thing going on that leaves him glassy-eyed-in-pain lookin'. I swear, I've seen that look in the eyes of cows who either wished they could be, or in fact were, dead in the not too distant future.
Why, fer the love of Gawd...WHY do these things hafta start up 15 minutes after the last dentists office has closed for the weekend? Only was it'd be worse is if it were a looong weekend. Actually, I'm sure it IS one, to him.
When we got back from doing that, George laid down to get rid of a headache he had developed earlier. I kept cleaning. So, around 7:00-ish, we went to the grocery store and spent just under $100. Got home, I made spagetts widda meat ballssss and garlic bread.
Cleaned up the kitchen from that and baked a cake. Oh, yeah...I also boiled 16 eggs for 'the boys' (all 3 of them) so they can color eggs today, in case the boy boys aren't here for actual Easter. If they are, I figure we'll get 'em some 'outdoor toy' kinda stuff in lieu of candy. Today, it'll be colored eggs and the cake and I think I'm still gonna make toll house cookies here, in a few. That oughta be good. Okay...so where I am now is: House is 95% there, standard-cleaning-wise...(still need to vacuum the living room.) Mopping is done, dishes are done, catboxes are done, wash is getting done, cake is cooling, my pot of tea is ready to be made and I gots cookies to do. Oh...have I mentioned I have my kitchen windows open right now? I keep catching these breezes...Man, I'll tell ya. Just a lil while ago, I was feeling like Fido's ass (grinning to Rob). All I could think was "Sleep. Lay down. Body HURTS." Then, I came back out here and felt that breeze...aaaahhhh....
Now, if I could just hear some tree-peepers and crickets....that'd be like a shot of pure adreneline (or however da hell it's spelled. I'm too numb to lift the dictionary and too tired to care...lol).
By the way...what was with those smart-assed teachers in school? You'd ask how to spell something and the first they'd say is "Look it up."
YO! DICKWEED!!! If I could "look it up", I'd be able to SPELL it, so wouldn't have wasted yer precious time in the first place...m'kay? Pin headed punk-asses.) Aaaaayway...I guess I oughta go make the tea, rotate the wash loads, ice the cake and bake the cookies.
THEN, maybe, I'll go to sleep. Be nice to get there by around 5, 5:30, sleep til noon, then go play outside. Then, later on in the night, after all the daily crap is done, it'd be cool to be able to get my shit organized like I want and start the link-fest stuff and ping storms. Then, Monday, I could start the one-room-a-day "spring-cleaning" shit. Yeah...I could divide my blogroll into six sections. Then, every day...I clean a room and link a section...clean a room, link a section. Maybe some day, I'll even get to where I can start doing those 'Symphonies"-kinda things....yeah... Well, I ain't gonna be able to do nunna that, if I don't get up and do what's waiting to be done now, I suppose, so.... I'm outta here.
Peace P.S. We've just gone into hour number 27, by the way...
Posted by: Stevie at 01:46 AM | Comments (34) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 27, 2004
Note to self:
I have no idea what she's talking about-or whom-buuuut:
DO NOT PISS OFF JETT.
I mean, Jeez, if you can read well enough to be able to find her and know that she writes wonderfully, beautifully more-than-well enough to wanna steal her shit, how the FUCK to you not know that to do so is inherantly suicidal and STOO-PID?
Probably the same way people pass driving tests and get licenses, yet have no earthly idea how to DRIVE.
Hmmmm... Tell ya what....even her (self-described) 'manifesto' post is an entertaining, enriching, creative, informative, intelligent, well said and hilarious (a coupla times) thing of beauty. You go, Girl.
(For the record, every time I think of you, I think of one of your posts about your ex and his "Little Miss, Little Miss, Little Miss can't be wrong" routine...lol. Your description of yourself that day is my mental "Jett photo"...and it's perfect.)
Posted by: Stevie at 07:17 AM | Comments (34) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
GAK!!!
I'm only 9 (8 now) posts away from that dreaded number....
You remember...the one I wouldn't let my old Boss adorn any cows with.
The number between 665 and 667.
Or a crucifix.
Something. Hey...is there a way to manipulate the post numbers and just not have that number at all? Frankly, I'm surprised I wasn't born on June 6th.
In 1966. (Actually...that mighta been kinda cool. I'd be three years younger AND I wouldn't be turning another year older quite so soon.) Three seconds later... (On second thought...nevermind. That woulda made me a Gemininny, which my retarded Mother was, Dad's current wife is (in fact those two wives of his have the same exact birthdate) and I'm schitzo enough now. Twins? Me?
God Forbid!!!)
Posted by: Stevie at 03:03 AM | Comments (39) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
But of course!!
Leave it to me to wind up with a duck with HORNS!!!
Found at David's place.(Thanks Hon!!)
Posted by: Stevie at 02:42 AM | Comments (33) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 26, 2004
Ya know...
After having had an IM convo or two about the situation that lead to my two previous posts, it has been decided (by me) that it's a reeeeally good thing that I'm not the head nitwit what be in charge with anything of importance.
I'd just fuck it up.
I'm too reactionary.
Politics suck and this shit is why.
Women are thought of quite often as game-playing little back-stabbing whores and this bitch and ones like her are why.
Both, assholes and politics, should be abolished. (Now...why does that sound redundant? Hmmm...)
Won't be, but oughta be, just the same. Fade out to the opening notes of world class genius John Lennon's "Instant Karma".... Besides.....(yelled over the ear-splitting volume level of aforementioned song), no matter how bad my life ever seems to get...no matter how shitty of a day I may ever have, at least I have the peace of mind and heart to KNOW I'm not that kinda piece of shit.
Thank you, Lord, for THAT.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:11 AM | Comments (33) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
And another thing....
This is an email I fired off to Yahoo about that bitch. Here's hoping they actually DO something about it....
To Whom it may Concern, I just want to bring to your attention that your excellent service of Geocities is being used in a manner that I'm certain is not approved of or the intent of Yahoo. A Geocities page was developed by a person calling themself http://profiles.yahoo.com/classycourtlady. This is the 'profile' that was set up with the link to the scurrilous Geocities page, which you will find here: http://www.geocities.com/classycourtlady/Tiger.html.
This page and profile were created on March 24th, 2004 for the obviously sole purpose of spreading malicious, untrue rumors about a certain attorney in Texas who is running for Prosecutor in his county.
This is nothing more than the politically motivated twisting of facts and words to further the incumbent's seat as current Prosecutor.
I refuse to believe that Yahoo would support and allow this kind of abuse of services. I am writing as a highly disgusted and very concerned third party to this situation. If this is allowed to happen to an attorney, what chance does a 'civilian' have against this kind of public smear campaign? If you'd like to contact the victim of this abuse, he can be contacted by visiting his weblog at: http://xxxxxx/. He has commenting enabled, so you can contact him that way, since he seems to have removed his email address from his site, no doubt due to this harassment from this person. I, among others, would appreciate your prompt attention to this matter. This kind of personal attack, which has elements of libel, blackmail and threats of bodily harm simply cannot be allowed to continue. Thank you very much in advance,
my info C'mon, bitch...Ya wanna play, we'll play.
My rules, you lose.
Idiot.
Posted by: Stevie at 12:50 AM | Comments (34) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
March 25, 2004
Anybody wanna out a self-righteous, malicious, fact-twisting, politically motivated skank-twat?
Here's the info. Go for it. As I find more, I'll post it.
Domain Name hyperusa.com ? (Commercial)IP Address 64.6.35.# (ARIN)
Language Setting English
Operating System Microsoft Win2000
Browser Internet Explorer 5.01
Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 5.01; Windows NT 5.0)
Time of Visit Mar 25 2004 3:53:36 pm
Last Page View Mar 25 2004 4:20:28 pm
Visit Length 26 minutes and 52 seconds
Page Views 2 The reason for wanting to know any and all info about this CUNT (and that is EXACTLY-to the very letter-what this person is) is because they are BEGGING for it by attacking a fellow Munuvian who (for some odd-assed reason) has decided he'd like to be a persecutor...ooops, I mean 'prosecutor'.
I know, I know..."Us? You? Help a prosecutor?!?!?!"
Yes...ONLY because it's Tiger.
Besides, think of the good karma you could bank offa doing a good deed for one of those
Especially this one.
This shit-slingin' little cum-dumpster thinks it's SOOO much fun to ferret out info on people offa the Internet, so...let's. Okay? If ya wanna see for yourself, just go look at the drivel this chickenshit is spewing. Just be careful if ya have a hair-trigger gag-reflex.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:12 PM | Comments (35) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I have a (ridiculous, unrealistic, utterly unattainable) dream....
Theoretically, it's pretty simple, actually.
I just wanna be the Donna Reed of the new century.
I want to get my life organized.
I want a place for everything and everything in it's place.
I want to be able to go ride the horse without wondering what destruction is being wraught by these devil-dogs from hell.
I want the dogs outta here. Outside, another state...whatever.
All the cats, the two guys, the bird, the rabbit and the rat don't make as much of a mess COMBINED as those stoopid dogs do.
I AM SICKOFIT!!!
Every fuckin' time I get my balls up to do this shit, one of these assnuggets has to do something that just kills it for me. April, the outside dog anyway, got her ass banished back outside full-time by being the one who spread a bag of trash all over hell's half-acre the other day.
This morning, George and I ran to the gas station down the road (about...3 miles, maybe) to get milk and bread. We were gone about 15 minutes, tops. BUT...when we got back, I walked into yet another el-destructo friggin' mess, perpetrated by the psychotic bitch known as Daisy. There was no where near as much shit spread around, but she still managed to get in the running for "First Strangled Dog" by chewing her way into the cat food bag.
She got her ass beat for that one.
Fuckin' punk.
It's not like there's not dog food sitting right THERE, with a huge water bowl on either side, fer Christ's sake. This dog is just psycho about food. She acts like she's starving or something and has to shove her face into everything. Believe me...she's not starving. She's gained weight since she's been here. Of course, it wasn't hard to get her to do. I merely did with her the same as I do with all dogs..."There's the bucket. Go for ir. Get it empty, I'll fill it again. Have fun."
I learned that from Pop-pop. He did the same thing with his dogs. Fill a small bucket or a HUGE bowl with dry food and keep it that way. It works really, really well, too. No fighting, no bullshit and dogs who can eat when they're hungry, as opposed to those poor lil fucker's who hafta wait til it's 'time', then only get 16 kernels of food. How utterly stupid that method is. Hell, that's what Daisy's problem stems from...I know it. When she got here, she came equipped with these little tiny like, yogurt cups, or something with which to measure out her food allotments. I took one look at them and used 'em all right. I put a few oats in one, water in the other and set them under the sink for the mice to keep them outta the cats way.
That's right. The dog was being fed using a container to measure her food intake that is better suited to MICE!!! It's no wonder she acts like all food is the last food. Jesus.
Still...she's been here a while and I watch...I know all the dogs get turns at the food bowl and I make sure if there's something extra in there, I divide it up so they all get some, so there's no reason for this behavior on her part.
Except for the asinine way she was taught before and the fact that I'm loathe to smack animals. I hate that. It'd be loads more fun to whack humans. But, she got her butt smacked this morning, yes she did. Trash and the cat food bag? Oh, hell yeah...that's a butt smackin' offense, for damn sure.
She's still not talking to me yet.
I don't give a rat's ass, either.
Pissant. Anyway...how the hell am I supposed to be all-Donna Reed-y when I can't get even a decent start? Siiiigh.
I want my Ephedra back, Goddamnitall.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:24 PM | Comments (33) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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