November 10, 2003
Well, seein' that we have the same BlogDaddy.....
This makes sense to me.
(Now...this is supposed to be a trackback link to Paul's post about his newly created family tree. If it works, great. If it doesn't: See, Tiger? This is what I mean about showing your 'Roo how to do it wrong...lol) UPDATE: It doesn't work, naturally....Seems I can't even do it WRONG correctly like I used to. I'm leaving it like it is, so that anybody (and I do mean anybody) besides me who sees it and knows what it wants can explain it to me one.more.&*^%$#!!.time. Hah, though...I did stick the URL in the 'ping these guys' box at the bottom, anyway.Just need to make the link work...
Anyone?
Bueller?
Frye? UPDATE II: Paul showed up just as I was finishing the first update and walked me through it again.
It WORKS now...
YAYYYY PAUL!!!
Posted by: Stevie at 11:48 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
This is fitting...
My life is rated NC-17.
What is your life rated?
See? The life I live is not suited for children.
Not even me...lol.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:55 PM | Comments (41) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
And a woman shall lead her...
Of all things...I was reading more of Brett Butler just now and read something she wrote about her Dad. I read it several times and each time it made more sense. It answered both questions from my earlier post and also pointed me in the correct direction...or rather, confirmed that I was heading in the correct direction....even if it ain't fun.
She didn't get a chance to really know her Dad. He left when she was young and they had very little contact. After he died, she received all his books and began to realize things about her Dad that she hadn't considered before. "My father was a prisoner, chained in by forfeit and fear." I'll be damned.... Her father 'voluntarily' confined himself to his own mother's home, mostly staying in his room, for 17 years. As long as a locust stays in chrysalis, she points out. Kind of exactly the same thing Eric's been doing for the last two years. (Here.)As opposed to the 14 years he did it before. (There.) And, 14+2=16. Awwww, hell. Oh my God... Larry Gatlin: Her love was like a fortress
Around a man she would have died for
Taking care to take care of all he needed. But, the lady's fortress
Slowly turned into a prison
And, the warning signs he gave
She never heeded. She vowed ever' mornin'
That what God joined together
No one else in the world
Could pull apart Then the walls came tumblin' to the ground
And her world came crashing down around her heart...
It's called "Broken Lady". I've been singing it for more than 20 years. I just realized that I've been living it for two. God. My love for Eric is a goddamn cage.
It really is. I'd make a great bodyguard, I guess, because I've done such a good job of keeping him as safe as humanly possible that I've got him totally....what is the word I'm lookin' for?....fuck it..trapped, is what he is. Trapped. In a fur lined leg-hold trap. Fuck. I only wanted him to be safe, not constrained, damn it. I'm doing the same ugly thing she did.
The motivation, or reasons behind it and however vastly different they may be, do not matter at all. Just like dead is dead, whether you get hit by a bus or gored by a bull...trapped is trapped, whether it's inside a cage or a china cabinet. What in God's own name must be wrong with me for me to be able to see all this and still be so fuckin' scared to let go? I even realize that getting rid of this 'cage' and just letting him do whatever he wants, puts the onus for the consequences squarely on him. If shit goes wrong, it won't be my ass callin' the shots. That could be a good thing...(grinning wryly). I have to do this.
But, I am really scared, too. I'd like to believe that God wouldn't give him to me just to take him away...but I know better than that. God won't even discuss that shit, let alone make any promises, or deals even. Then, there's that other, older, maybe wiser part of me that says "Hey, if that happens, you're gonna be dead yourself shortly thereafter....so, what's your problem?" Yeah, really. Oh, fuckin' A- Here comes pumpkin-headed Garth Brooks and 'The Dance' into my head....Please excuse me while I imitate Niagra got-damn Falls... "I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
The way that it would go..." ow, damn it.
"Could've missed the pain
But then I'da had to miss the dance..."
Yeah...I get it. I can't really hate it that much either when I realize again that this is what I was wanting to do all along anyway...get him enough of himself back and strong enough within himself to do what needs to be done to save himself, fuck whomever doesn't like it. I do, however, reserve the right to remain scared shitless for as long as I see fit.
Or...
until one of you guys talks me out of it.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:14 AM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 09, 2003
Gonna go start dinner now...
Today I'm making a crockpot cooked potroast with those little potatos, mushrooms, onions, and (ugh *shudder*) carrots.
I've got two kinds of rolls, too.
I think I'll have......Mr. Yoakam his own skinny-assed self here helping me.
I've been awake for over 24 hours, so he should be easy to sing with right about now.
If not, there's always Charlie Rich...or Waylon....or Roger Miller....or, if my voice gets too damn deep, Barry White....lol.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:11 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Alright, McGehee...
You is numbah 4500 for visitors....Yayyyy!
Thank you ever so much, kind Sir.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:59 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Speaking of military-type stuff...
I have (yet) a (nother) question.
Stupid McGuyver just got Eric riled because they had a Navy Seal asking McGuyver for help. As if....Even I know know ain't no Navy Seal needin' no stupid McGuyver for anything, except maybe 'moving target' practice, right? Right. Well, Eric was in the Navy, so I asked him if it woulda made him feel better if it had been a Ranger askin' for McGuyver's help. And, he says "Yeah" real quick, then grins and says "Well..."
He thinks for a second and then says "Navy Seals really are the best trained fighting men we've got..." To which I replied "Like an Army guy wouldn't say the same thing about the Rangers or Special Forces or whomever?"
Then he told me they're all 'Special Forces' and there are really only two of them, the Seals and the Rangers. So...now I wanna know. How many of these specialized groups are there and which one really is the most kick-ass, sneakiest, most numerous ways of killin ya before ya even know about it, baddest-assed ones?
(Lord, I just realized how glad I am that that MASH quiz also didn't say I'm like Col. Flagg...lol) Anyway...Gentlemen? Care to enlighten me, please?
Posted by: Stevie at 02:48 PM | Comments (52) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
This'll work...
I found a MASH quiz over at Sgt. Hooks. I love MASH. A lot. So, I took the quiz.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:38 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I still don't get it...
There's this poll, see. And it's for the 'most offensive male blogger'...
Acidman's nominated.
So is Dan.
So is Geoff.
Among others....
It's his well marked trail I'm following here. He's the one I first ever heard of blogging because of. (Did that make sense?) I stumbled across his blog while on a search to find other women as evil as Eric's BC. I found one. And, I found Rob. And blogging, which has saved (what little I had left of) my sanity and taught me more than I could ever articulate about myself, others and life in general.
Rob also tells the truth. He's also funny, witty, sarcastic, silly and sweet. He writes soooo well, you can FEEL it, if ya have any humanity IN ya. Unless you're looking to not like him, which a lot of people seem to do, there's just no way to lose sight of who he is under all the bluster, when it blows up.
He doesn't take shit. He doesn't give (undeserved) shit. He's not in the shit business.
Except for trolls. Going by that Ron guy's explanation, it would seem that this is a contest to see who pisses off the most people and most of the people who get pissed at a blogger act like or become trolls and...
If this is a troll-having contest...Rob wins, no contest necessary.
This man is positively PLAGUED with the damn things. They show up, made incredibly stupid statements, run and hide, use fake names and come back and do it again and again.
It's because they're offended, alright. But, not by whatever's he's just posted. They're pissed at him.
They're pissed at him because: He tells the truth and if ya don't like it, tough. Well, they don't like it. He's a God damn excellent writer. They usually can't even spell. He makes intelligent, well thought out-or very passionate-arguements for the things he believes in. The trolls have nothing to believe in, so they believe they'll go give him a load of shit. He's built up a HUGE-MONGUS following of loyal attack-fans, of which I proudly am one and the trolls probably all live in basements, under crack houses and even their dogs hate 'em.
Ya know?
So, unless I really just don't get this...I still don't get it.
Could it be renamed "Most Honest, Forthright and Unapologetic Male Blogger' and still be the same contest?
Just wonderin'.....
Posted by: Stevie at 11:17 AM | Comments (52) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Ho-lyyy shee-it...
Wouldya take a frickin' look at what I found in site meter? Cool to see I'm first on the search for 'x-fire', but day-um...these guys are just a short ways down.
They obviously mean their 'x-fire' in a slightly different context than I do. I'm dodgin' life bullets, not lead ones.
Let's just keep it that way...m'kay?
Thank you ever s'much...
(Ducks and runs...)
Posted by: Stevie at 10:25 AM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Paul was here....
Paul did it again...he put that POW image on here for me. He is such a sweet guy. Smart as all hell, too. We IM each other for hours, talkin' about all kindsa cool shit.
This evenings discussion centered on religion and 9/11. We are convinced we're related or something because we agree about sooo much shit. But, even when we don't see things eye to eye, there's no ire, malice or loss of respect. It's very....cool. And rare.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:20 AM | Comments (42) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
That explains it...
Been a little bitchy lately and last night "All in the Family" made me cry. (It was the Christmas episode where a friend of Mike's from Canada comes for Christmas dinner and Archie flips when he finds out David is a draft dodger. When Archie starts yelling, the timbre of his voice changes so much, it makes me cry. Then, Pinky keeps me going when he says he'd like to have dinner with the kid, beacuse his son, who was killed in Nam, would.)
Well...I went to off-load some coffee a while ago and SURPRISE!!!! My little terrorist friend is back. Damn it.
Before I found this out, I had had a small twinge or two on the left side, this time, but now....Goddamn!!! I've got 4 Ibuprofen sitting here, waiting for my coffee to cool off enough for me to swallow 'em.
I swear to you...someone has caught my left ovary in a visegrip. Or maybe a huge-assed pair of channel locks.
Lookit, man, I'm not gonna have any kids. You know that, right? Right. You made me, after all. Do ya think we could dispense with this horseshit every You-damn month? It hurts, it's disgusting, it's useless, it's stupid, I hate it, I wish it would go far, far away, never to ever return again in my lifetime. You know....the way ANDY HARRIS and Uncle Henry and about 9000 other people I love did....The way Crane wants to do with Eric.....The one thing You refuse to do with the BC....that kinda far, far away, never to return. Yeah. Just like that. How 'bout Big Guy? Can ya help me out here? Like...next time, do ya think you could make me the right sex....PLEASE?
Thanks,
me That is all...
for now
Posted by: Stevie at 01:01 AM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 08, 2003
Blogging is definitely changing me....
I used to love weekends. I loved Saturdays, especially. I got that way when I was a kid and have managed to continue with that...until recently.
I am now learning to not like weekends. The 'blogosphere' goes to hell in a handbasket on weekends. Hardly anybody posts...ya go see what's up and it's the same stuff from Friday. I understand people have lives and families...so do I...but, still.... Sigh.... You guys...Saturday and Sunday are bad enough on their own. Ain't jackshit on TV. Going out, you take your life in your hands, either from the assholes who live to get drunk or the cops who live to bust the assholes. Everything slows to a crawl, but not necessarily in a good way. I also understand needing to take a small break. But...could ya's mix it up a little so Saturdays can come back from hell? Please? In the meantime...I thank God Himself for Acidman. He's bloggin' his ass off, as usual. Weekends, I still like spending at Rob's. Either Quinton is there, giving him things to write about or else Rob's there, peeling away layers, letting you see 'him', in the truest sense of the word. Either way, he's there. One of the multudinous reasons why I LIKE HIM SO MUCH-for those of you who don't get that....(Okay, the ONE of you who doesn't get that...) On the other hand, Paul has disappeared. Last post was on the sixth and I haven't heard a peep in two days. No IM's, no email...nuttin. Sigh....And, last I knew, he wasn't too happy about a job situation. Not happy+gone= I worry. Basic math, here.Hell. I suppose I could look at it like being given something to do...worry. Great. Oh well...back to Gut Rumbles, I guess. May as well go see if Rob's farted lately or maybe posted a grocery list or something, which, yes, I would read, if it came from him...
Anything would be better than sitting here staring blankly at the monitor....waiting...wondering...slippin' into that 'thousand-yard-stare-thinking' thing, while my thoughts turn into a dial tone.... I miss you guys on weekends. Can ya tell? Update-Just so's ya know I'm not just whining, here...out of 61 blogs, only 22 have 'new' next to them right now....less than half. See? It's not just me...well, it is just me whining about it, but it's not just my imagination...
Posted by: Stevie at 08:36 PM | Comments (51) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Yes, I am 'The Drag Queen'.....
Velico..., I mean Velociman has now inspired me to tell one of my many 'Jack' stories. The way he did this, is to rename Acidman on his blogroll until Rob learns the correct spelling of Kim's "Veloci" prefix. Velociman did that, because I was ever so helpful enough to point out that it is, indeed, spelled incorrectly, although, in Rob's defense, the link works.
Velociman, unimpressed in the slightest with this bit of info, has given Mr. Rob a new name that I ain't repeatin' seein' as how I do kinda like the original bone structure of my face and limbs and, besides, I've done quite enough, thanks...lol.
He's older than me. I forget by how much, but it was enough to give my 'dating-a-chick-my-own-age' Dad pause. Dad is older, by a few somethings....but age is just a number anyway. Right? Yeah, it is...
Anyway, Jack's older, got a couple almost-adult kids, was divorced, has a good, very responsible job, is the Chief of his firehouse and was a DJ, owned a Harley, was a member of the Shiloh POW club...just an all around stand-up lunatic. He also had a recently broken-up with, soon to be back with for good girlfriend, a totally different chick he had around, I swear, just to make me crazy, a wild side and a death wish. He used to do some of the craziest shit....Like I've got room to talk.
Besides this 'Drag Queen' episode, there are other stories involving me, Jack Daniels, a flagpole and a POW flag...Jack's Harley and the Delaware River and him coming to in time to see me and his 'other chick he had around to drive me crazy' sitting together at his kitchen table discussing "what were we gonna do with him." The look on his face when his eyes focused and his brain engaged...Gawd. What a trip.... We just happened to be on a bar-hopping trip when the 'Drag Queen' legend was born. We were riding with a couple of his buddies that day, going from bar to bar, having a beer and movin' on. It was more about just being out on the Harley than getting drunk.
We were just leaving the Centerton Inn, enroute to the Village Inn. Before we even got out of the driveway, one of his buddies had a small problem. He had kicked his choke or something getting off his bike and shut his fuel off. So, when we went to leave, he got to the end of the driveway, stalled and fell over, just like the guy on Laugh-in with the tricycle. We got him picked up and sorted out and took off.
I had asked Jack something about where we were and he was hollerin' back to me, explaining and pointing around. Next thing I knew, we had taken a teeny-tiny detour through the edge of a corn field, over a small hill and back out onto the road.
By this time, I was already hangin' off. I knew if I didn't do something, he was gonna wind up dumping it and I didn't want that. So, I decided "Fuck it", I'd just fall the rest of the way off and start all over from gettin on. We weren't goin' that fast anymore, anyway...
Well, I let go and started to slide....then, I got my boot caught in his chaps and didn't quite make it all the way off for a while. After bouncing around back there a bit, his chaps finally let go of my boot and I got to roll freestyle for a while.
When I finally quit tumbling, I sat up to see the three whitest faces I've ever seen on people who aren't dead and the sight of Jack running back to me, after having parked the Harley, screaming "I KILLED YA! I KILLED YA!" To which I replied "No ya didn't. Ya BROKE MY FINGERNAILS!" That was it, the sum total of my 'injuries' was broken fingernails. (Thank GOD for leather.)
Next, he's wantin' to 'get me home', to which I replied "Hell widdat. I need a shot and a beer. Let's just get to the Village..." Which we did. In one piece, amazingly.... Ever since then, I'm the 'Drag Queen', which I don't get. He drug me. Shouldn't he be the 'Drag KING' or something? I could rightfully be called 'The ninny who, in fact, did keep getting on behind him after that', but I was the drag-ee, not the drag-er, ya know? Know what? I'd STILL ride behind him. Except for that one little incident and the fact that his regular girlfriend coulda killed me with a swat, he really was a very safe rider. He sold the Harley...(BOO! Hiss! Pfffttttth!) Can ya's tell I think he should get another one? There are lots more Jack stories. They'll be showing up from time to time, just like the Wally stories will. I feel like I've got these two rooms in my head, one marked 'Jack' and one marked 'Wally' and I've just gone into them for the first time in a while. So, I'll be in here for a while, pokin' around, rearranging, cleaning...remembering, laughing, crying...and sharing.
The undercurrent to 99% of these stories is love and God knows, we need a little love shared these days, don't we?
Stay tuned....
Posted by: Stevie at 12:53 AM | Comments (48) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 07, 2003
Fer Christ's Sake...
Before anybody else gets their panties in a wad, the previous post is meant as a humorous COMPLIMENT to Acidman.
Kinda my way of saying "Fine. If that's the way your church wants to act (referring to the church in the picture on Acidman's blog), we'll start our own."
I have never, do not now nor do I believe I ever will think that Acidman is anyone other than who he says he is. I may see him a bit differently than he does himself, but that's normal. I see way more of the good about him than he does himself. He thinks he's old. I say he's not. He thinks he's beyond love ever again. I say he's not. He thinks he's in the 'autumn' of his years. I think he's hit late summer...maybe. Hell, if ya wanna know what I'm thinking...come here and read. Or ask, then shut up and let me tell you before you go accusing me of being completely fuckin' stupid. Fer Fuck's sake, I've eaten SHIT over how much I like the man.
Don't you DARE accuse me of belittling him or putting words in his mouth or taking potshots at him.
I don't operate that way. Do. You. Understand, Uzi-Q?
Posted by: Stevie at 10:34 PM | Comments (48) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I saw the li-i-ight, I saw the li-i-ight....
I'm joinin' a church! I finally found one I can agree with. I'm gonna be the most fervent, pious, book thumpin' convert ever, as soon as he gets the book done so I can buy a copy to thump on.....
Now, if only I could Photoshop a picture of the Rev. Rob on here....
Posted by: Stevie at 03:43 PM | Comments (53) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I guess I oughta explain...
The cat did knock me off line the second time. My cat Ozzy decided to jump onto my shoulder, sneeze straight into my hair and then leap onto the keyboard, simultaneously opening a link window and losing the post.
By the time I got the previous post actually done, I was gettin' annoyed.
(Unless Lobowalk lets me know what's better.....) Frickin' pigeons with messages would be an improvement over this...lol.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:04 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay....now I got it.
I've tried three different times this morning to get a post posted. First time, AOHell "goodbye"s me. The second time, the cat fucked me up, then AOHell just 'Goodbye"d me again.
I know why.
This stupid thing doesn't realize I'm still on here and it's shutting off because of 'inactivity'....damn.
Guess I oughta switch windows every so often just so it stays connected.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:48 AM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 06, 2003
I am such a blonde...
I owe Earthlink a lil money...Hence, I'm currently STUCK WITH AO-HELL, God help me, please...
This shit is slower than....than....AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!
Posted by: Stevie at 12:45 AM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 05, 2003
YAYYYYYY!!!!!
Yayyyyy!
Posted by: Stevie at 02:16 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Alright, WTF?
If a thing is created and put on this earth to do one specific thing and it can't be bothered to do that one thing with any kinda consistancy, is that grounds for justifiable 'beating the hell out of it with a Pusser club'?
Say, fer instance....a toilet. I don't know what da hell is up with ours. I think the stupid thing thinks it's a can opener or something, because it flushes for shit...well, maybe that's not the best way to express that thought....Let's say: It acts like actually flushing is some kinda huge imposition or something. It's pissin' me off, too. Ain't not one damn other thing I'd rather do than spend 15 minutes multi-flushing. All for one floater or folded up piece of toilet paper....Gotta stand there while it anemically refills the tank with water, so it can take the floater and tp on another little ride, 'round and 'round. Then, it lackadasically kinda swallows and....YA GOTTA DO IT AGAIN. Damn..... Don't even get me started on the self-adhering modelling clay Eric dispenses. Gawd. Can't get that to let go for 20 or 30 flushes. It just gets smaller and smaller evry time ya flush til it finally disappears...kinda like the 'blue dot' used to on old T.V. sets. Sheesh.... The strangest thing is that if ya just pick up the plunger and hold it, it flushes fine.Which leads me to believe...it's doin' it on purpose just to mind-fuck me.
Stupid toilet.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:55 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Processing 0.02, elapsed 0.1642 seconds.
37 queries taking 0.157 seconds, 83 records returned.
Page size 64 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.