October 15, 2003
Dear World Wide Web people,
Uuuhhh, if any of you get an emailed Yahoo Greetings card from some guy ya don't know and your email adress is remotely similar to mine (srv200163atyahoodotcom), please disregard said card. Thank you.
(Eric sent me one. We just don't know to whom he sent it, 'cause I ain't got it in my emails and he doesn't have one of those 'could not be delivered' things in his, so we're assuming it went somewhere else. He's worried that he probably sent it to some, fat, toothless, bald guy in a pair of stained boxer shorts and a tank top, who is currently drooling on the keyboard whilst trying to figure out who his new 'friend' is.) My God, I love that boy...He is so cute and so sweet. He tries so hard...rotflmao bad! Now, I've got some kinda weird overplay of "On the Cover of the Rolling Stone' and 'Dueling Banjos' in my head....Lovely.Posted by: Stevie at 03:39 PM | Comments (50) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well, I was gonna go to bed...
Then Pixy had to be all silly and chirp in my comments (anybody got any cheeeese? Sgt. Hook says crickets like cheese...) and he reminded me of a silly assed story about my Dad and his brother when they were kids.
Seems my Pop-pop had sent them to bed one night and they wouldn't stop screwing around and go to sleep. They were about 6 and 9 years old, or whatever. Little kids. Anyway, after about 43 trips back and forth between his chair and the bottom of the steps to tell them to settle down, my Pop-pop said "That's ENOUGH! I don't wanna hear one more PEEP outta you two!!" He then stood there for approximately 6 seconds til one of 'em says "Peep."They both got their asses smacked for that and to this DAY, neither will admit it was him. I personally believe it was Uncle Jim. Of course. I come from a long line of smart-asses.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:15 AM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
AAArrrggghhh!!!
Why can't I get to Greg's page?
This is pissin' me, here.
That stupid little blue line just eeeks along as I sit and listen to my hair grow, waiting.
Sigh.
Must. Not. Beat. On. Computer.
Doesn't. Respond. Like. Car. Knows. To.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:12 AM | Comments (50) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
While I'm on the blogrolling thing...
I have two questions. Is it possible to change the color of the words you have to tell you a blog has updated? My 'Recent' shows up in black, on a black background which makes it reallllly hard to read.
Also, why does the stupid thing continue to say 'Recent' after you've read said blog? Why doesn't it shut up after you read it, til they post again?
Both of these issues needlessly annoy me on a daily basis.
So, if I can't FIX it, I'd like to at least UNDERSTAND it, ya know?
Posted by: Stevie at 01:43 AM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Aw, fer Christ's sake...
There are 57 blogs on the roll. I shoulda counted 'em before I started.
I did the trimming, then linked all the Munuvians (since LeeAnn explained it to me) and didn't even bring anybody over from favorites.
Criminy. UPDATE-I did just figure it out. There were 66. Now theres 57.
Hey...less is less. That's good. I figured I'd have at least two more than I started with... I read too much.
Latest revelation (30 seconds later)-I replaced some things that weren't even blogs, with things that are. Which means, I'll have even more reading to get through than I did before. See? I am a pain in my own ass. I am.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:30 AM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Wanna know just how much of a 'tard I is?
All this time, when I post, I use the 'view site' button to review what I wrote and make corrections, right? (Right.) Well, when I find a mistake and go back to the 'post' page, I close the stupid window and re-open it when I make the correction.
It just occured to me to hit 'refesh'. And, that is exactly how much of a 'tard I is.Duuuuhhhhh...drool.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:05 AM | Comments (41) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Gotsta do some pruning....
My blogroll is outta control. (Hey, that rhymes....) I haven't trimmed it in ages and every damn day, I find new blogs I like. Then theres my whole'wanna-link-everybody-I-read-in-one-big-post' thing I keep wanting to do. Just for the hell of it. Just to do the links...I'm not even trying to compete with Kelley and her Cul-de-Sac. I ain't that good...
But, I swear it takes hours and hours just to read the damn thing, let alone commenting, going off on link tangents about five windows deep and having to pee, feed animals, let dogs in and out, cook dinner and other miscellanous shit like that.
When I first sit down here (for just a FEW MINUTES) it's usually bright sunlight outside. I sit here, every so often noticing that it's getting darker and just keep reading this one more little thing until MIDNIGHT! (Or later...)
By then, my eyeballs hurt, I can't focus without looking like a squinty-eyed old woman anymore and my brain is just a dial tone. I find all this cool or outrageous shit I get a good idea about writing about, then lose it in the contrails of the next 200 blogs I read. It's endless.
Ah, well...off to the mines.
Peace....
Posted by: Stevie at 12:50 AM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I swear...
This Joe Schmoe shit is makin' me crazy! Being the cynical, jaded fuck that I am, I didn't even fall for that "You'll never believe how it ends!" shit from last week. I freakin' knew they were talking about the episode, not the show. This weeks ending was more horseshit.
Did anybody not know that that was champagne bottles popping? I'll just bet, even though they used the 'f' word tonight (finale...goofball), the next show will probably start with somekinda three-way tie, sudden death shit to try to make Matt lose his even temperment. Gotta try one more time to make him show an evil side. One other thing...as big as his eyes have gotten over shit already, I fully expect them to fall completely outta his head and land on the floor with two meaty plops when he finds out about this thing... I just cannot believe I got sucked by this dumb shit....*shakes head and sighs* Damn, man.Posted by: Stevie at 12:32 AM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 14, 2003
Anybody know what crickets eat?
I really need to feed the ones in my COMMENTS!!!
(Drumming fingers on the desktop....waiting....sigh.)Posted by: Stevie at 03:37 PM | Comments (106) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Coffee+mate+fattening...
Probably...especially if ya use a half a pound per cup like I do. (Well, okay. I don't really use a half a pound per cup...but it is waaay more than most people do.)
And, person doing this search? There comes a time when ya just hafta ask yourself...Is it worth it? I mean, really. Do you want to be 'fashionably-Kate-Moss-like' while hating even being alive because you can't have anything you like, or would ya rather eat some shit ya like and just be less fat than that 'other bitch', at work or at that bar or wherever she is? Use the Goddamn Coffeemate and screw anybody who thinks you shouldn't, including your own head, if need be. What Coffeemate does to a good cuppa Folgers is sooooo worth it. Indulge yourself. And, hey...if ya really feel bad about those (few, stupid little) calories, just remember sex burns off like 4 calories an hour..... By the way....Can someone have me in a size 4 by this weekend?Posted by: Stevie at 03:34 PM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 13, 2003
Being 'right' doesn't mean shit and...
It sucks nine times outta ten. Like now, for instance. I was right AGAIN. Guess what showed up? This morning, less than 12 hours after I smart-assedly (is that even a word?) said "Watch. I know what's next..."
Sigh. Let me try it again...I'm gonna prove God exists and that's he's got a twisted sense of humor. ('Martyr Speech' originally aired 10-12-03. Revised 10-13-03.) "Expletive delETED!! What's next? Oh...I'll bet I know. Winning the lottery. Whether I play it or not. Has to be. The way my life is going, I expect to win the lottery any day now since I'm so broke I can't even pay attention. Just watch. Oh, yeah. It'll happen." Now, as for the proof of God's existance...wait and see. This ain't gonna happen and He's gonna be giggling His Eminant Butt off at me. God is very subtle. But, by not making this happen, the way my other prediction did, He's just proving He does exist and that He likes humor. Twisted, sometimes painful humor, but humor all the same.But, this is good for me, too. He made me. I got my contorted sense of humor right from Him. Which is cool and all, but I still ain't gonna win no freakin' lottery. Watch. The other way that I'm usually right ain't no better. It always involves Eric and some outside entity or another. Could be a cow. Could be Bill. Could be the weather. Whatever. The way that goes is, Eric will be telling me something about whatever. I'll point out a potential flaw that could bite his ass and he blows it off. He goes out, does the thing the way he wants and comes back later and finishes the story, replete with my ending of how whatever it was didn't work, cooperate or just plain fell apart.
For the first year or so, I really thought I could help him not make the same mistakes by pointing out that I had been correct and that if he had only listened... I stopped doing that beacuse it turned him into 'Robotboy'. All he would do is look down and keep saying "You're right. You're right..." ad infinitum. That got old fast. So, I announced one day that I ain't doin' that no more, because he never hears me until we get to "I said that would happen" and besides Robotboy reminded me too much of the way he was when he was still with the BC and NOTHING is worth that. You'd think he'd be all happy, skipping off to go do cow crap, right? Nah. Not Eric. Now he just tells me "You're right. You're right." when we're first talking about the whatever thing and looks all unplugged the first instant I give him a slightly different perspective on the situation and still does what he wants and usually forgets something important, like covering his ass. Except, now, I skip the "If you had just listened" part. Why bother? I get all the "You're right"s right up front. See what I mean? I can't win. This is just one of the multudinous reasons I named this blog what I did. Fortunately, I have that God-given, twisted, bent, folded, stapled and mutilated sense of humor 99% of the time. About that other 1%- I get pissed. Lord, do I get pissed, sometimes. I either talk loudly at about 100mph, mostly stream-of-consciousness, verbalized rage until I get everything said, which could take several minutes or I come in here and type 100mph stream-of-consciousness, written rage until I feel better.
Either way, anybody standing in front of me laughing while I'm raging risks a permanant injury. Like a fist dent in the forehead or something. Being laughed at when you're already pissed can turn rage into a nuclear strike, can't it? Yeah...usually. Until recently, the only exception to that was if, in my rage and verbalization, I said something so patently stupid, even I had to laugh.
But...
Now, there's Greg. After I get done spewing invective all over my keyboard and I go back and re-read what I wrote, I see Greg reading or listening to it with what starts out a small smile and friendly, interested eyes. As I go on ranting, he begins to shake with supressed laughter. The harder he tries not to laugh, the funnier it gets. Finally, after one of my supremely silly proclamations, he loses it and busts out laughing. He laughs until I finally shut up. I look at him laughing his ass off, while I'm still trying to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my eyes and start laughing my own self. He's great like that. Not laughing at ME, just dyin' with the stupid shit I come out with when I'm spazzing out.
Even if that's not how it would be in person, it works now, on here. But, ya know what? I think it would be like that if I was one of his in-person friends. That's how he comes across, anyway. Compassionate, sweet, protective-even if it's your own self you need protection from-and funny.
Some people, George for instance, can't do that. They get 'infected' from your mood and get in a bad one themselves. Other people, like poor, sweet Eric, don't know what to do, so they don't really do anything during the tirade, but they're there for ya when it's over. Greg would get ya out of the middle of it. And, make ya laugh at your own silly-assed self. (Unless, of course, it was something deadly serious you were pissed about. Then, I think, he'd have your back for whatever came of it...)
Anyway...Thanks, Greg. I like knowing you're one of the people I'm 'talking' to.
Even if ya don't ever actually say anything...lol.
I still hear ya giggling.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:21 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 12, 2003
How cool...
Kevin, who I happened to link a little bit ago, has a post up right now that y'all might be interested in.
It's about a new MT 'comment-spammer-blocker'. I left a comment at Gut Rumbles for Rob immediately. Can you imagine if this thing works on trolls? I hope it does. Poor Rob gets more trolls than all my animals put together get fleas.
What is it with comments, anyway? Is there ever a happy medium between the chirping crickets who usually live in mine and the trolls who live in Rob's? How long does it last? A week? Seems to me either ya get no comments or ya get trolled to death.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:04 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay...lemme 'splain this...
The next few posts (I forget exactly how many) are from my old site on Blobsnot. I cut & pasted the few posts I could find that I liked. There are a couple more I want to bring over, Tiger's five questions for example-his questions are just about better than my answers- and maybe a coupla others...but I'll have pity. God knows the ones I've already brought over are long enough.
If I do find Tig's five, I'll be bringing that tonight. Everything else can wait.Have fun....
Posted by: Stevie at 10:32 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
My five questions from Ted...
Whoa...
Five Questions for Stevie
1. Mountains, beach, or desert?
Mountains, definitely. Cabin, garden, venison...just me and Eric. A coupla horses, cats, a dog. (A small dish wouldn't hurt my feelings, either)...hot tub, no nearby neighbors...town about, what...an hour away.
2. Whats the best pet you've ever had, and why?
I hope ta God I'm not supposed to pick just one... Get ready for an essay answer.
The first two that sprang to mind (together) were Diablo and Daisy. Diablo was my Appaloosa. I used to show him in 4H. Together, we won Grand Champion of the Western Division of our county fair and Reserve Champion at the Game Day event the next day. (Game Day is timed events like barrel racing, pole bending, keyhole race, etc.) Now that I think about it, I remember that he (Diablo) was shown on the Channel 6 news doing the Trail Class. He was such a good horse. Neither of us ever had a single training session or riding lesson. Ever. We learned it all together, by ourselves. So, he was way more than a pet in a lotta ways. Daisy was the dog I had then. I got her as a puppy. Actually, my parents got her for me after I had had a flu or something. She as the best dog I ever had. I had her trained to the nth degree. She'd be in a chair and I would call her. She'd get her front paws on the floor, ass still in the chair, I'd say "Stay." and she would. Just like that. When I first got her, I read a book that said it takes days to teach a dog a trick. Well, I didn't believe that, so I trained Daisy to sit, lay down and roll over all in one day. She learned it well, too. Every day, for the rest of her life, when you told her to sit, she would...sit, lay down then roll over. Every where I went on the horse, she was right behind me. My mom used to say her whole name was "Daisy May or Daisy may not...it all depends on whether she wants to". If she did something dumb and knew she was caught, she'd get all embarrassed and start sneezing. She also gave me the very best Christmas present I ever got-PUPPIES!!! I've been blessed with a bunch of good dogs, present ones April the mouth that never sleeps and Ziggy the Wonderdork included, but never one just as wonderful as Daisy. I also had, around then, a goat named Laura, who used to follow the dog following me on the horse. I had one cat who fetched beer caps, another who got more excited about me steaming clams than I did, one who used to eat asparagas with me, one or two who used to like to "relax" with me (actually, I have one who's like that now...more about "relaxing" later...howtoexplainthis?)
Hell, all my kids are my favorites and the best one at being who they are, if nothing else.
By inhaling and hhhoooollllddding and releasing. Repeat as needed. Then here's cigarettes. After which I read, or sing, or go for a walk, or talk to/hug the piss out of Eric, or get on here. Sitting down with a cuppa coffee helps, too. (And, I hereby promise to give up my first method when I get a 'script for Nitrous Oxide with a lifetime of refills...or stupidity becomes outlawed-whichever happens first) 4. If you could sit down with anyone in the world and talk for 5 minutes, who would it be, and what would you say?
My answer to this used to immediately be : Dwight Yoakam and what I would have said was "May I please be your favorite guitar or pair of jeans?" My other top-of-my-head answer is : God and all I wanna know is WHY?!?! to about 9000 things. But...I'm thinking of someone else...who? Hmmmm.... Okay-famous person....Prince Charles. What I'd like to say is: "Alright, look, Charles, the first thing we're gonna do is teach you how to ride right. Enough with this stupid polo shit. Get rid of that cornflake you call a saddle and let's get you a real hunka leather. Once I get you accustomed to staying ON TOP of the horse, we need to talk about this Camilla crap. Are you blind? Eeewww. You are a PRINCE for Chrissake. You think that's the best you can do? Another thing...how old are you? What is with this "Mommy's boy" shit you pull everytime things get tough? Be a MAN! Tell her to piss up a rope when she's wrong. Quit kissin' her butt or you'll never be rid of her. Look, Chuck...I like you, I really do. But, you act like an uncoordinated putz most of the time and it has got to stop. Dude, the biggest reason your mom won't die is 'cause she's scared to death of the idea of you being King. Let's change that. Okay?" (I'd also like to ask Gary Busey one question: May I pleasepleaseplease be on your show "Hangin' with Busey"? We are both a little nuts and I think it would be a blast hanging out with you. I also think you'd be pleasantly surprised at how we'd sound doing Buddy Holley songs.)(And, yes there was too an 'e' in Buddy's last name...) Non-famous....Anderson Wood Harris, aka Andy, aka Dru. And, I'd talk to him about bullriding, heartbreak, himself, love, friendship, soulmates...anything I could think of to keep him in that bar for just 10 or 15 minutes longer. Long enough to let that asshole Olde Dominion driver ignore the junction sign, the 'Stop Ahead' sign, the 'STOP' sign its own damn self and blow through that blind intersection WITHOUT killing Andy like he did. With Andy's blue Chevy pickup wedged to the windshield under his trailer, in front of the back wheels of his trailer. (Quoted from stupid truck driver: "Oooh. I didn't even know I'd hit anything..." Asshole. I guess you didn't see the sparks from where you were dragging Andy sideways up the road AT NIGHT, while grinding his rim into the shape of a capital "D". As in DICKHEAD!) I'll never forgive that Anonymous Asshole and I'll never forget or stop loving my friend, Andy. Rest in Peace, Cowboy....(I wrote him a poem before he was killed called "The Gentleman Cowboy...he knows what I mean, dontcha, Dru?)
5. What is your favorite meal?
A pretty piece of sirloin, rare, a well made baked potato and asparagus...or succotash. Gotta have coffee, too. On the other hand, I'll also do Mickey D's any day of the week. Even when I'm sick. As a matter of fact, if/when I am sick, if I don't even want Mickey D's, you need to get me to the hospital or Coroner's office-one or the other.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:24 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Yeah, I do...
Sometimes you feel like a nut...
In response to a psychiatric examination, in which he was found to be a passive-aggressive paranoid personality with schizophrenic tendencies, Charles Manson replied: "Sure, I'm paranoid. I've had reason to be ever since I can remember. And now, I have to be, just to stay alive. As for schizophrenia, take anybody off the street and put them in the middle of a prison and you'll see all kinds of split personalities. I've got a thousand faces, so that makes me five hundred schizophrenics."
As far as I know...only I could find humor in a quote from Manson. This does, however, remind me of a joke. What do ya get when you cut 500 bras in half? 1000 beanies with chin straps.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:21 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Random shit that is still true...
@ 4:06:58 AM comments(2)
More strange shit from inside my head...
These are things, not necessarily related to anything, that are in my tangled brain...
If I hadn't screwed around in school, I would have become a forensic pathologist. That shit is fascinating. I am appalled by what was done to Randy & Vickie Weaver at Ruby Ridge, Idaho. I think it is perfectly fitting and a testament to the existance of Karma that the idiot who ran over Stephen King is now dead. Good. Asshole. I fucking hate rap. Dwight Yoakam is a pussy. And, I used to LOOOVVVEEE him. I find it fascinating that cows and dairy farmers are able to maintain life with NO BRAIN FUNCTION WHATSOEVER. Cows...dairy farmers. Coincidence? I think not. *There are only two ways to understand women-and nobody knows either of them. *The quickest way to a man's heart is through his left ventricle. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. (Think about it...) Four out of five proctologists surveyed recommend sugarless suppositories for people who CHEW suppositories. Be alert. The world needs more lerts. "Max Dugan Returns" is a GREAT movie. Sam Kinnison....damn I miss him. He was the funniest sumbitch. I hope the asshole who killed him has a long, horrible life. Dash Goff, Suzanne Sugarbaker's ex-husband from "Designing Women" (played by Delta Burk's real husband Gerald McRaney) reminds me of Acidman. I think. Gia Carangi was the first "Supermodel", not that twat Janice Dickenson-or whatever her last name is. Fresh cowshit smells GOOD. Chickenshit does not. BABY shit is even worse. And, it comes in an alarming assortment of highly unnatural COLORS. I love the smell of a freshly opened tin of Copenhagen. No, I don't dip. I hate spit. But, Eric does. I thank God every day for Juan Valdez and whoever invented Coffeemate. I think wrestling is stoopid...BUT- I love Bret Hart and would gladly shoot Vince McMahon in the face whether Bret asked me to or not. Ugly asshole. Walks like he's got a corncob stuck up his ass.
Okay, then. I feel better now. That's no where near ALL the shit in my head, but it is a good start. Now, about those *'s. The ones marked with an *, were borrowed from a guy from the 60's named Biff Rose. He was a folkie, I believe, with a warped sense of humor. I e mailed him about a year and a half ago and he e mailed me back HIMSELF. I saved that one. Anybody besides me ever hear of him or his song called "Buzz the Fuzz"? It is awesome (funny). So is he. Once there was a fellow and his name was Buzz.
He was a rookie cop-just a baby fuzz.
He patrolled the Sunset strip in the land of the free and the home of the hip.
He protected you and me until he met a girl named Alice D. Alice was a girl that all good hippies dread.
And, they called her "Sweet Alice D. head".
Alice, it was plain to see, was full of pot and STP.
She'd attract a great big crowd,
Because her inner peace was MUCH TOO LOUD. Buzz did the thing the good fuzz must.
Shoved his gun in Alice's chest and said "This is a bust."
He shone the flashlight to her eyes,
She began to hypnotize...
Buzz said "What a wild sensation. This must be hallu, hallu, cina, cina, tion, tion, tion." Love is so sensational.
When you fall in love with eyes dilational. Buzz said "Alice, you I like. Come take a ride on my fuzzy bike. Soon it will be getting dark and we can watch the stars from Griffith Park." So, they both went out and dug astrology-ee-ee-eee-ee-ee...
Through their mutual hallucinology-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee.
Now their takin' pills and shots and
Buzz is not afraid of Watts.
Buzz and Alice D. have shown the way of where the fuzz might be some day. Buzz is still a cop, of course.
He's the pusher on the force.
He's protecting you and me
From e-v-i-l women like poor Alice D.
You've got to HEAR the melody to get the full effect, but it's still funny. Well, I have to PEE again, so I'll be going now.
Peace to
Posted by: Stevie at 10:16 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Paging Mr. Dolenz....
If there is any truth
to the "six degrees of seperation" thing then it stands to reason that somebody who knows somebody who knows somebodywho knows somebody who knows somebody who knows Micky Dolenz might read this....If you do know Micky and you do read this, would you please let him know that I just adore him to pieces? He's ALWAYS been my favorite Monkee, I bought and have read at least 100 times, his book "Monkees, Music and Madness", I have several alternate Yahoo ID's one of which is Mickymonkeegirl63, every time I do karaoke I sing "I'm a Believer" and I bought two actual photos of him from some guy in a parking lot at a Dwight Yoakam concert. I am also one of the few people who actually taped "Head". I just would like for him to know I exist. Thank you... (I feel much better now.)
Posted by: Stevie at 10:10 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Here's another one...
Sunday, July 13, 2003
And now for something completely different...
I used to work the night shift all by myself at the largest dairy farm in South Jersey. My hours were anywhere from 5:00/7:30pm til 4:30am/noon, depending on what was happening in the morning. I worked there for 5 years. During that time, I learned a few things. Not the least of which were "25 ways you can tell you've been dairy farming too long". (I came up with these during the course of a shift one night and wrote them down that morning.)
1. Everytime you go to touch your wife's boobs, you expect her to kick at you and shit on the floor.
myself...) 23. You think that "Playboy" is published by a man named Hugh Heifer. 24. You think that Sandra Bullock is a male bovine with a dumb name. And, finally- 25. You refer to your in-laws as "the herd".
Obviously, these will make more (twisted) sense to someone with a dairy farming background, but, there are a few that are pretty general. If anybody wants to know what the heck I may be talking about in one of the lines, feel free to ask.
And, if anyone would like to know if I'm at all dain bramaged, that would be a "yes". I'll be back...
Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 10:09 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Trying something here...
If ya don't believe me, ask the NJSP...
The year is 1981. I've just graduated high school and my stupid mother has moved to Florida with my boyfriend. So, Dad gave me her car. A 1980 Ford Pinto with a sunroof and manual tranny. I was out driving around the back roads of Mannington Township, drinking beer, like it used to be safe to do. Naturally, I had to pee. Having spent my youth on horseback, I learned the benefits of peeing in bushes long ago. So, I pulled over on this unlined, rarely used road, found a bush and made room for more beer. Mind you, I wasn't drunk...yet. Just a little buzzed and a lot silly. I get done, get in the car and start down the road. I hadn't even gotten in third, when a deer jumped outta the woods and attacked my car. She put a one inch dent in the passenger side front quarter panel and passed out. I freaked. "OH GOD!! THE DEER, THE DEER!!" I thought she was dead. So, with my mind somewhere between crushing guilt at having murdered this poor animal and visions of venison dancing in my head, I decided to try to minimize the loss. I decided to take her home to my deer hunting Dad and let him handle it. With a Ford PINTO. That has a "trunk" about 4X6 inches big.
Getting her into the trunk wasn't working out too well, so I opted for the back seat.
I got her limp body up okay and had her about 2/3 of the way in, when my "dead" deer came to. And, she was NOT thrilled about the idea of going for a ride, let me tell ya. Not the least bit...
I had been stuffing her in through the drivers side door, so I opened the passenger door, pushed the seat forward and she scrambled out. And, just stood there. Looking at me. I noticed then that she had a lump on the side of her mouth, like a chew of tobacco, with just a little bit of bleeding. She let me walk up to her and I checked her legs and spine for deformaties, found none and was thrilled she was okay. I couldn't just leave her standing in the road, so I pushed her to the side, where there was a horse pasture and fortunately, a gate into the pasture. I opened it and pushed her through to safety. She just stood there. Again. Okay....
I decided I needed my Dad anyway and went off to find him. Not home. Must be at the Moose, playing cards....The Moose was in the process of switching locations, from one side of Woodstown to the other. I checked the old location first. Not there. Damn. On to the new place. Or, so I thought.
What I didn't realize at the time, was that the entire back of my car, part of the drivers side and most of my shirt was covered in blood, from her cut mouth. Oops.
One of my cop buddies from town, Donald, saw my car, saw the blood and pulled me over to find out who I had killed and how many times. I told him what had transpired and I don't think he believed me-at first. (Who the FUCK would try to put a deer in the back seat of a PINTO, fer Chrissake? me...)
By the time I got that whole story told, I had to pee again. So, now I'm outta my car, crouching down next to Donald's drivers door with my heel crammed in my crotch to keep from peeing myself because Donald is being a comedian about this. He had to call the STATE POLICE because it happened just out of his jurisdiction. So we wait. And, I've GOTTA PEE!!! (You know how it is drinking beer-one bottle turns into a bucketfull and once you've peed the first time, ya gotta pee at just about every telephone pole after that...sigh) So, what seemed like three days later, the Sate Boys show up. By that time, I've got Donald talked into letting me swing by my house (which is on the way) so I can PEE!!!
So, we all go to my house so I can pee. Picture that. Three cop cars lined up at the end of the driveway, while I go pee. Gawd. I grabbed my Dad's friend Carol, while I was there and got her to come with me.
Now, I get to lead this absurd parade to the location of my altercation with said deer. SHE WAS STILL STANDING THERE IN THE FIELD.
Unbelievable.
Two of the Staties walked up to her and were petting her for a few minutes. Then one smacked her ass and she took off. Yeay!
Cool. Glad I could help. Even gladder that y'all didn't find my sixer I had stashed in the bushes prior to going off to find my Dad.
This is true. Like the title says... if ya don't believe me, ask the NJSP-Woodstown Barracks.
Well...Hot Day-um. It worked. This is an old post from Blobsnot. Instead of importing all the archives, I'm jusy going to bring the good posts over and re-post 'em. Yep. I'm gonna repost all TWO of 'em.
Well, there may be a couple more...but most of my site was 'dedicated to getting comments to work', as Kevin at Wizbang once said.
Finally, I'll have that worry offa my mind. Have fun...I know I will be...sigh.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:06 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Y'all are not gonna believe this shit...
I got this from Cynical Cyn. She is the sweetest, most perky, conservative person I read. If she's got it posted, I should be okay, too. But, man...be warned.
If you're a NASCAR fan, you'll laugh. If you're a PC asswipe, don't bother.If you decide to listen to it and decide ya don't like it, write to the host of the site. Not me. I laughed my ass off when I heard them bring up the #3 car. What I find so funny is the asshole's responses. What a complete asstard the guy is.
It is funny.
Gives real rednecks (as in FARMERS who work outside all day and have sunburnt necks and people like me who took Ag in high school) a bad name, tho. When I went there, I was just waiting for it to finish loading when the audio started. It starts with a ringing phone and ends up sounding like the Osbourne's on crack. Okay? Get ready.....and, remember-the dipshit on the phones views do not reflect my own. It's just fun to laugh at assholes.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:07 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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