Songs for our President

I wonder if every president has had as many songs disregarding their administration.
I honestly don’t remember if Clinton had a lot of song directed towards him. Surely there had to be some about his indiscretions in the Oval Office, but I definitely don’t remember any about how he ran the country.
Just off the top of my head I can think of four songs, which I like, and are written about our shitty president. (These are in no particular order)
1. Bright Eyes – When the President Talks to God
2. Pink – Mr. President
3. Dixie Chicks – Not Ready to Make Nice (which is more about how they dissed the president and the backlash they received afterwards)
4. NOFX – Idiot Son of an AssholeIt wouldn’t surprise me if there were more.
And I wonder if there are any good positive songs written about Mr. Bush?It also would not surprise me, if there are any positive songs, if they are by a country artist.

Yo Momma

I just have to say for everyone to hear that 2names did not bring back “Yer Mom Jokes.”
She has tried to lay claim to them for a very long time and I figure it is time for me to proclaim for all to hear or read, that 2names had nothing to do with Chauncy, #1, Spanky and I using “Yer Mom Jokes.”
I have several pieces of evidence to substantiate my statement as well. First and foremost, 2names “Yer Mom Jokes” suck. And they are in no way the same league as the rest of us. Also they are a completely different style of “Yer Mom Jokes.” Which leads one to believe that 2names not only learned how to do YMJ somewhere else, but if she “started” it again, why aren't our YMJ style more like hers?
Furthermore, Chauncy, #1, Spanky and I have been rolling with the YMJ for quite some time, way before 2names came into the picture. They are especially funny to us, because we actually really know each others moms, like we have carried on conversations with each others moms. Our moms have worked together, and my dad works with Spanky’s mom. So the YMJ brings on a whole different connotation when we make a YMJ. And not only that it is hilarious when #1 does a YMJ to Chauncy, because they have the same mom. (alskjfdowifjea;lskdfjwoeifjaslkdjfe) (that’s internet laughter for those of you out of the loop)
Come to think of it, that is probably what brought YMJ back. We just thought it was hilarious to be referencing each others moms in very sexual manners.
And finally, I have known 2names for quite some time and I don’t remember her ever pulling out a YMJ until after she hung out with #1, Chauncy, Spanky and I. I know that 2names will forever attempt to claim that she brought back YMJ, and I may never be able to convince her otherwise, but at least the rest of us know the truth.

Oh the weather

Besides watching true crime TV shows, sucking Mt. Dew through Twizzlers and eating popcorn with cold milk, I love to talk about the weather, read about the weather or watch the weather on TV.
Most people bring up the weather when they are in a conversation with someone and they don’t have anything else to talk about.
“So how’s the weather up there?”
“Oh it’s colder than a witches tit and wetter en your momma was on prom night.”
Now that’s all fine and dandy, but I actually ask about the weather and truly want to know what is going on. If it’s been windy, rainy, cold, snow all of it I want to hear it. Tell me about the next cold front coming in, or how many days until the jet stream will move to the north, tell me, talk to me about it, I will truly and honestly be fascinated by it.
Throughout the day, I find myself checking weather.com approximately 5-10 times in my 8 hour day. I love the satellite view as you can zoom in and out and see when a storm is directly over your house. It’s awesome. (It’s also awesome that “It’s awesome” is a complete sentence)
If a storm is coming in, I check WFAA.com and weather.com all the time; one might even say I’m obsessed.
However, I wouldn’t say that, I would just say that I like to stay informed.
I love thunderstorms, but they also scare me. I guess I just love things that scare me, because I love scary movies, they are my favorite. And one of my favorite TV shows is Supernatural, simply because it’s a short scary movie that I can watch every week, and it doesn’t hurt that the dudes on it are quite easy on the eyes if you know what I mean. (wink, wink)
2names said the other day she thought that I missed home, because I write a lot of stuff about C-Town. But I think its more I have some good memories from there, and they are funny to me, but I must admit one thing I miss about Nebraska…the snow storms. Or just real snow period.
But I do like that, since moving to Texass, not once have I walked outside in the winter and breathed in and immediately had the snot freeze in my nose. I don’t really miss that.
(Not that I usually count, but If I hadn’t added this part in parenthesis this little blog would’ve been exactly 400 words…now that’s scary)

John Deere Green

Just got an email from an old friend today, it was just a forward, but I don’t mind just getting forwards because I know that they were thinking of me.
However it said that if I forwarded it on to 12 people I would have 12 years of good luck. Ya well I’ll take my chances, I didn’t forward it on to 12 people. I like living on the edge like that, tempting fate if you will.
So when ever I get an email from Pete, I always have a picture of her in my head. It’s pretty similar to what she looked like in high school. Strawberry blond hair, long and wavy she had, or probably still has the prettiest hair I have ever seen.
In high school Pete kept me current on the happening country music. I listened to pop music and kept her abreast on that, and she was down with the new Leanne Rimes or Tim McGraw, and made sure I stayed current with the country folk. She is really the reason I like country, or know anything about country music.
Well we loved the song by Tim McGraw, “Don’t Take the Girl.” And for some reason I came with her one day while she was out drivin tractor. I don’t remember exactly what we were doing but, I’ll just say, we were working a field, and I guess we were on a tractor that didn’t have a radio or something, because we spent our time singing to each other.
Well we had the whole song of “Don’t Take the Girl” memorized from beginning to end. Along with “John Deere Green” and Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” (which was my music choice at the time I guess)
So after singing “Don’t take the girl” a few times we decided to make up our own lyrics. Changing girl to turtle and we found a way to implement the nick-name of her now brother-in-law Geno into the mix as well. Yes we were an imaginative pair, that’s what happens when you’re alone together on a John Deere I guess.
Pete’s a good friend and just happens to be my cousin too. She’s a pretty strong chick as well. I spent the night at her house once during calving season. We were going to go horse riding the next day, and so we usually tried to get up fairly early to get going.
Well we had just woken up or maybe she had just woken up, she looks out the window and says “Oh crap!”
Next thing I know she’s down the stairs, out the door and in the cattle pen outside, helping her mom pull a calf. Yes that’s right PULL A CALF!
I sat upstairs looking out her bedroom window watching them tug and pull, in the early hours of the morning, it took a few minutes and then finally the little guy or girl (I don't know which) came out. She just dusted herself off, came back inside, and was ready to go.
She just helped give life that day and it was no big deal to her. I was impressed to say the least. And I realized how different our lives really were.
Granted I wasn’t exactly a city girl, but in a way, to her I kinda was.

Chuck takes no Sh*t from nobody

They once made a Chuck Norris toilet paper, but there was a problem--It wouldn't take shit from anybody.

I was thinking that Chuck Norris toilet paper would be really hard and abrasive.
I personally like my tp to be pretty darn soft. But not so soft that it falls apart. Then that creates a whole other problem. Think dingle berries with cotton balls, really escalates the problem.
I really hate it actually when you realize you didn't wipe as well as you should have, and you leave the house, your walking around. And then it starts to creep up on you.
You butt starts to sweat and this seems to aggravate the problem then before you know it, your ass is in full fledged itch mode and there isn’t anything you can do about it, your only recourse is to do a thorough wiping and when your at the dog park (as was the case last weekend) there are no public bathrooms nearby.
Not only that but I have a problem with using public bathrooms…(but that’s another post altogether) I could reach down and do a little quick itch but then there are two outcomes of that indiscretion, first of all someone might see me, and secondly I don’t want my hand to smell of ass all day.
So my next course of action is subtlety. Make it itch itself. Walk with buttocks clenched, stand with hip sticking out, then switch, doing this several times. And then patiently as possible wait till I get back in the car and I can sit on my seat, this always seems to help that and doing a little jiggle while sitting.
Oh the agony! Now I can totally see why dogs rub their asses on the floor. I kinda wish I could do that. Or I could just make sure I wipe my ass real good before leaving the house.

Drunk Dialing

I don’t do much drunk calling anymore.
On a rare occasion I will call 2names or #2, after I’ve been drinking. But they were probably drinking too, so I don’t feel so bad.
And we now have this new thing we do, where we’ll call each other up when we start drinking and drink a bottle of wine together. You know because no one likes to drink alone…we are really there for each other; we’ll take one for the team, so that our friends don’t feel like an alcoholic.
My sister Ang, however, she likes to drunk call me still. And, I must say, I love it. She called me yesterday around 6 p.m. (ya I think she was already drunk by then, though I wasn’t able to talk to her at that time) then she called me again around 9 p.m. I was watching Dateline it was of course a crime story about a wife that was charged for killing her husband, she ended up getting off. But I digress....
So back on the ranch…She was slurring her words a little bit; she had been drinking all day I presume. Why do I think this? Because she said she just got done doing the Road Rally.
What’s a Road Rally (RR)? Well a Road Rally is when a bunch of people go off on a scavenger slash clue hunt expedition, traversing the back roads in rural Nebraska.
The RR usually gets going around noon on a Sunday, (after everyone gets out of church, though this crew probably aren't coming from church, probably more like nursing a hangover from the night before).
From what I understand, they all start at a certain location and are given a clue. This clue leads them to another clue, and this goes on until you reach the final clue and the end of the journey. So I’ve heard and judging by my own sister’s lack of sobriety, this driving around also entails lots of drinking. I know quite illegal right? And so I asked my sister, “So do you guys ever see any cops while out doing this?”
“Cops?!!! Are you kidding?! We were travlin cross free counties…we were in Furnas, Frontier, and Gosper counties.”
“Oh well I mean I just thought, you know it’s a small enough area that the cops would be a little wise to the shenanigans and sit out there somewhere just waiting to pull over some drunk people searching for clues.” I said
“Oh no we were travlin cross free counties…we were in Ffurnas, Ffrontier, and Gospfer counties, ain’t no cops gonna find us.”
So I guess its safe, just a bunch of drunk ass people driving around the county side looking for their next mystery to solve.
Evidently one of the clues took her by my aunt and uncles house north of Cambridge. My aunt and uncle’s last name is Miller and the clue read something like this “Its Miller Time, although I don’t think these’s Miller’s will give you a beer.”
Ang was pretty proud that she was able to figure this one out on her own.
So the object of this Road Rally is to find all the clues the fastest and win some sort of a prize but evidently there is also a downside of winning.
“So did you win?” I ask.
“Oh no, no, no, no. Or at least I hope not, we don’t want to win, you win you got to put it on.”
Ok now I’m confused. “Put it on? What do you mean?”
“If you win you have to put it on…the next year. You have to organize it. We won two years ago, we ain’t doing that again. Oh and plus could you imagine, I live in McCook, Lisa lives in Indianola and blah blah blah lives in Culberston. No we don’t want to win, or at least I hope we didn’t win, I don’t know, I never got a call, so I think we lost, I think we lost big time," she says with a little chuckle
“Well that’s good then. So do you have to work tomorrow?”
“Oh yea, bright and early, I think I’m gonna eat my food then go to bed. I just wanted to give you my weekly call”
I kinda thought that sounded like a good idea.
“Well I’ll call ya next week.”
Ok good-bye Ang.

What we did for fun

Growing up in a small town has its advantages and it definately has its disadvantages.
We didn't have a movie theater, no malls, no fast food (but the Pizza Hut truck did come on Thursdays) and we didn't have the luxary of getting away with crap, since everyone knew who you were. But we did find ways to have fun.
I think living in a small town, makes a kid a bit more imaginative and more apt to try something new. We were prone to boredom so there was always a challenge to find something to do, things most city kids probably never dreamed they would do or even heard of.

Ditch em' - This is where you drive around in your car, usually erratically trying to "Ditch" the person following you. Think tag in cars. Usually played at night.

Car Water Fights - Get a couple of groups of people, load them up in a few cars and get buckets of water, tons of water balloons and squirt guns, drive around trying to get eachother.

Walk the Highway - This has nothing to do with prostitution. This entails walking up and down the highway, talking with a friend usually just in groups of 2 or 3. With Nicole we were always searching for pennies on the ground as well. When I was much younger my friend Jennifer and I would dress up in Old Time Dresses (sirca 1800's) and walk the highway between our houses showing off our outfits.

Hanging out at Gas n' Shop - This is what it is, sitting at Gas n' Shop talking to friends.

Haning out at the Deli - Same thing just at a different location

Tubing - This was done in the summer, and we'd jump in at the Creek and get out at Diversion Dam, about a 2 or 3 mile stretch, took about 2 hours. We'd do this while the water was high. Once or twice we did it soley on the river and brought an extra tube for a cooler with beverages...You would die if you tried to drink while doing this on the Creek, so we only did it on the river, as it never was more than 3 ft deep and flowed real slow.

River Rat Volleyball - Playing volleyball in a river. Way harder than you imagine, as the drunker you get the harder it is to stand up.

Barrel Rolling - This was only done one night. But it entails grabbing construction barrels and putting them outside of our teachers doors and driveways.

Cruising - Driving the approximately 2 mile stretch between the park and the hospital.

Ice Skating - In an actual frozen pond outside.

Breaking into the school - Well we'd break into the school and then play hide-and-seek inside.

Jumping Terraces - On a four wheeler, we'd take it out in the fields, we build up speed ramp off the terrace and try not to get killed.

Sledding - They block off a street in town specifically so kids can go snow sledding on it.

Bike Trails - riding the bike trails and ramps down by the Creek.

The fort at the Creek - Some crazy kid built this elaborate fort down by the Creek, and he would guard it and not let anybody in. So we took our BB guns down there and took it over, actually I don't think he was around one certain day, so we took it over...it really wasn't a hostile takeover or anything. The kid wasn't there, so we spent the day hunting Joel Saylor with BB guns on the Creek.

Kick the Can - Similar to Hide-n-Seek, except you hide and then the person who is "it" tried to find those hiding and has to beat them back to the can before anyone kicks it over.

Tennis in the Street - it is what it is, playing tennis in the street.

Pennies on the RR Tracks - we'd tape pennies on the tracks and then come back later to see if they got smashed.

War - We'd break into groups and spend the day running around the neighborhood and hiding in peoples yards, basically just trying not to get caught by anyone else.

I'm sure I did lots of other stupid things, sometimes I think I was lucky to have survived both the boredom and the stupidity. Also pretty lucky I didn't get thrown in jail for a few things too.

My Flaire

My Flaire, doesn't have anything to do with wearing pins to express myself, it has to do with my doggie.

Flaire is a mix dog, but most people would say he is Pit Bull mixed with something, he has the best markings, cuz he has a patch over his eye and I love that.

I don't like to be one of those people that talks about their dog all the time, but I thought he was worth mentioning.

One of my favorite things about him is he plays fetch. He won't usually play for very long because he gets distracted but he does play.

My other favorite thing is how when he wants attention or maybe the food that you are eating...he'll rest his chin on your thigh and look up at you, with the biggest puppy dog eyes. I just love it.

Of course I don't give him the food, but I usually say "look how cute, and then I pat his head."

Fall come back to me

This is the time of year when TV sucks in my opinion. I’m kinda ready for fall to be here, so some decent sports are back on.
I can’t really stand to watch baseball on TV. It’s probably more boring to me than watching golf.
More importantly the Huskers will be back in the fall, and I am looking forward to a better season than last year. I’d say they can’t be much worse, but I’m sure they can before things get better.
This is completely true especially if you are a Mavs fan.
I did go to the library on Saturday. Figure since TV sucks and I haven’t read anything in a while I would check something out. I love having a library card, really makes me feel like I belong somewhere for some strange reason.
I picked up a couple of Stephen King books that I haven’t read yet. I got “Dreamcatcher” and another one that I haven’t heard of before “Duma Key”.
All this anticipation for fall sports to start, was spurred by the recent hub bub over Brett Favre’s announcement that he wants to be released from his contract. So it sounds like he wants to come out of retirement. And while I’d love to see Brett win a super bowl. I wish he would just retire. He won’t win a super bowl without being in Greenbay, and if he is able to go somewhere else and be a starter I don’t think it will be long before he stumbles and our memory of him a bit tarnished.
Its kinda like when Jordan retired then played for the Wizards for a little bit, you could tell he had lost a step, and in some respects had people saying, “well maybe he isn’t the greatest to ever play the game.” To me that is sad. Because in my opinion Jordan was the best and Brett is definitely up there with the greats.
The thing about Brett is you love his heart and he plays for a team in a town filled with big hearts. And to me that should be the way it stays.
Unless, like my Hubby suggests, he comes to Dallas to mentor Romo, then I’d be ok with it.

I'm not a liar

That's right, I'm not a liar.
I have what is called Middle Child Syndrome accompanied by an over active imagination, and this is why sometimes the way I recall something is not exactly the same as everyone elses.
So, I have not made up memories about my childhood, that is just simply the way I remember it. (I have recently found out that some of my memories from childhood aren't exactly they way things happened, however they could just be telling me that to make themselves feel better about the way I was treated and neglected) Middle Child Syndrome can also be called The Forgotten Child Syndrome.
We are often left alone to our own devises and not that we look for trouble, but often trouble found us. Also all this time being alone tended to lead to a child making up the life that the rest of the family has left them out of. Evidently I did this a lot.
As a kid having a pop was a real treat, Mom never bought pops at the grocery store. We either drank milk, water or orange juice. We also rarely ate out, actually we never ate out as kids, so there was no ordering a pop at a restaruant either. So getting to have a pop was huge in our house.
One day while playing alone outside, as usual, I began to trace out the names that were etched into the sidewalk from the previous owners, "Kim & Jason", as I was sitting there alone with nothing but my thoughts, my parents roll up on the street with everone in the truck with them. The street is about 50 feet away, and they are in a diesel pick-up and I can't hear what they are yelling at me aver the sound of the rumbling engine. They are saying something to me but I just can't hear.
I keep asking "what?" and putting my arms out and shaking my head, you know the common gesture for "I can't hear you and I don't understand what you want from me" after a few seconds or minutes of this, they left. I shrugged my shoulders and continued tracing the names...
A while later everyone appeared again. All with thier own pops. Did they get one for me? Nope.
Evidently they were yelling at me to hurry up and get in the truck, because we are all going to go to Gas n' Shop and get pops. But I didn't hear them. And they left without me and didn't even bother to pick up a pop for me.
As I explained before pops were a big, huge deal in my house. And I had to sit there and watch everyone suck down their pops while I drank my damn milk! I was in first or second grade when this happened to the best of my recollection. And apparently it never happened, I made it all up. My Mom says she would never leave her 7 or 8 year old alone at the house. But I think she is lying.
People often ask me how I can be a middle child when there are four siblings? Simple I explain, Ang is the oldest, Dork, is the only boy, then there is me, another girl, then Treebee, the baby. Hence I am the middle child.
Now this isn't to say that a middle child is a bad kid, or a trouble maker. No generally they are the opposite. They are usually attention getters, but they do it with comedy, or what they deem as comedy. They will often be the jokesters in the family, and they are often the ones that smooth things over in the family. Typically the middle child gets along with all family members and are often considered the favorite child.
Yes, the favorite child. How do I know? Because my Mother told me so and everyone else.

Nothing to be pissed about

So I was informed that one of my friends was upset at learning that I wrote something about them. I'm not going to name any names - names.
This did get me thinking that I have left some others out a bit and I thought maybe it was time to include some of the other characters in my life.
I don't like to use my friends real names, just incase one of them decides to become president or something, oh wait nevermind, nothing my friends have done is worse than what the last few presidents have done and definately no worse than some of the stuff the possible future presidents or thier wives have done. So I don't think anything I say will tarnish anyones reputation. (Sweet I now have total freedom) .
But I'm still not going to use names.
So I will call him "Number 2 Son of my Favorite Mom"...#2 for short (alskdfjowiefja;lskdfjwoef)
Ok so I went to visit #2 in the town where the state capital was located. This was also the summer I was living with my parents.
So I made the trip to Stinkin Lincoln and hung out with #2. We of course were partaking in the smokage of some cheez. (this was our special nickname for something, that had absolutely nothing to do with heroine mixed with tylonol pm) And we somehow started watching "Dude Where's My Car." Its a great movie to watch while enjoying cheez.
#2 and I were alone this night as everyone else (that is The Number 1 Son of my Favorite Mom, #2's brother, The Bitch and Spanky) were at a Dave Matthews concert.
#2 and I weren't going to go becuase we wanted to go a Blink 182 concert the next day in Kansas City, which was about a 3 hour drive away.
So we hung out for a while, then finally passed out for the night. We woke up the next morning, very late morning I'm sure and headed out to Kansas City.
#2 and I have this strange thing that happens to us when we are in a car together, we always get lost. And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the mass quantities of cheez we consume whilst driving, but it never fails we always lose our way.
Well on this particular trip we not only lost our way, but I think we lost a little bit of our minds as well. After a brief episode in the car of losing our way and me laughing so hard that #2 thought I was going to die we make our way to the concert. We park our car and make our way in to hang out with the hords of people bouncing thier heads to the sweet tunes of our favorite punk bands. As the day wore on and the shows winded down, it was time for #2 and I to leave.
We walked out of the concert talking about how cool it was, and how much better Blink is than Dave, when we realized we had been walking for a while and hadn't come upon my car.
"Dude where's my car?" I asked not to anyone really in particular.
"Where's your car dude?" #2 asked as well. We both stop, look around and think that maybe we just walked passed it. We continue this march up and down the rows of cars.
"Dude where is my car?"
"Where is your car dude?" At first it was kinda funny, since we had just watched a movie in which the main characters lost their car after a night of drinking and partying with various people.
However, #2 and I had not lost track of time, and we were pretty sure we drove my car to the concert and parked it in this parking lot. So we were quite perplexed.
I started trying to use my remote keyless entry devise to see if I could spot it if I pushed the alarm button, thinking that the blasting horn and blinking headlights would catch our attention.
We continued to walk, up and down, over, up and down, to no avail. That stupid car had to be there somewhere, and we had to find it. It wasn't like we could just have someone pick us up. We were 3 hours from Lincoln.
After about 30 minutes, the parking lot started to clear out, then after about 45 minutes, a green Chevy Cavelier was the only car left in the lot.
Oh there she is...there is G-Ride. (I called it G-Ride becuase it was green, not becuase of any erotic references)
So finally we were back on the road. We decided that maybe next time we wouldn't have so much cheez before a concert and maybe things would turn out better for us. Alas we would never find out if that was the case as cheez is really more of a staple for us, and you know, there isn't anything wrong with that.
#2 and I did decide we had a much better time than the losers that went to Dave, even though we got lost, lost the car and thought I died from laughing too hard.
See a good time isn't always defined by what happens but how a persons responds and accepts what is happening. Good times are always relative. Ahhhhh Good Times....

Skeeter Bites

I really hate skeeter bites.
I'm sure there aren't many who do like them. But they are literally a pain in the ass. I think I even have one on my ass. Damn thing must've bit me through my clothes.
I put the repellent on, had a citranella candle out, I did everything right and still my body is overrun with skeeter bites. I think the one that is most annoying is the one on the bottom of my foot. Its annoying enough to have an itch in the foot region that after some time can be calmed down. But when a person has a skeeter bite there, there is no calming it down. Its always there, always on my mind.
The way I see it, I have about 2 more months to deal with the pesky sons of bitches. I do have one more trick up my sleeve, I've heard dryer sheets work to fend them off, so I think I will try it next time.
What I hate about the Texass skeeters is they bite you and your still feeling the pain like a week later. Seems to me the Nebrasky skeeter bites went away after just a few hours.
Ugh, I don't know I could be making it up, but that's the way I remember it.On a side note, something I just remembered. I think when I was a kid, we called our boobies skeeter bites.

My Addiction

I have an addiction.
Well I actually have a few, but don't they always say that admitting there is a problem is the first step towards recovery?
My first addiction is to twirling my hair. I seriously can't stop. The thought of never twirling my hair again...well I'm sorry I can't even imagine it. I've been twirling since I was a very young child. I'm not sure exactly when I started, but I do vaguely remember having short hair and not liking it when the bottom of it curled out, so I would twirl it back in. And now even as I write this I sit and twirl as I think of the next thing to say.
I twirl when I drive, I twirl when I read, when I watch TV, I even twirl when I carry on conversations whether in person or on the phone. If my hands are idle they quickly gravitate to my hair and the twirling begins.
I once even cut my hair very short to try to curb my addiction to twirling, but no, it did no good. I actually love the way my hair feels once I get a haircut, so it actually can make it worse.
My second addiction which is probably not as annoying to outsiders and many people may not know this about me, but I am addicted to crime stories. Specifically to murder, serial killers, gruesome mutilating deaths and severe pedophiles.
I really don't know what the fascination is, it probably does have some hidden deeper meaning. I myself never had an urge to act out any of these things I see or read. More I'm fascinated with the type of people that do these sort of things. And I want to know why they do these terrible things.
I guess really I am more enamoured with the person that commits a gruesome crime because I want to get inside thier head and figure out what makes people do such horrible things to another human being.
Sick fucks interest me for some strange reason.
Now don't get me wrong I don't "like" them, its more of I want to know about something I don't understand. And I've come to accept that this is the way I am.
My first term paper I ever wrote was on serial killers, back in the 11th grade.

Tumble Dry

Warning the following is not for the faint of heart...and 2names this might bring back bad memories....

Summer's in Brasky could get quite warm, hot you might say. Even though we were in Northeast Brasky, not being accustomed to high temps all year round, we tended to melt after a few 90 degree days. As was the case the summer of 2000, but just when the temps started to heat up, a storm started brewing and sizzled it all out.
We were in Wayne, America, that's what the water tower said, as we sat on 2names' back patio enjoying a smokie treat, in the middle of the day. It was one of those lazy days, and no one seemed to have anything to do. Or maybe we did but we decided not too. Either way a few of us had gathered to waste some time toghether.
I distinctly remember 2names was doing her laundry, she evidently was the only one of us with any sort of agenda, and I also remember the smell of dead animal creeping up. You know how it does when the weather gets warm and it's almost like something must've dethawed, the flies finally found it and the wind picks up and lifts it just right, the dead stench seems to hang in the air....that's how this was. But no one thought anything of it. It was a fairly common smell in rural America.
Later in the day, the group dispersed to run errands, or just maybe to get away for a while. I came back to 2names house and she was there looking for Telly. Telly is a kitty 2names adopted, me and Niner also adopted 2 kitties from the same litter, so they were all brothers.
Well 2names hadn't seen Telly for a while and was afraid he might have ran away. The search began, although it didn't take long to figure out what had happened to Telly. I can't remember if it was 2names that found him or if she just realized what might have become of him, and made someone else look. But unbeknownst to 2names Telly met his fate, wrestling for life between socks, jeans and t-shirts.
Yes Telly took his last breath, inhaling fabric softener in the dryer at 2names' home. So that smell from before wasn't some animal thawing on a warm summer day, no unfortunately it was Telly getting fluffed in the dryer.
She was devastated, as anyone might be. She couldn't even look in the dryer. The way we figure he either jumped in while she was changing loads and she just didn't notice or, he somehow crawled up through the exhaust hose that went to the outside.
Niner came to the rescue (a true cat lover) and pulled Telly out, cleaned the dryer of any trace of the deceased feline and put him in a box for 2names.
2names along with Tom buried Telly that night along a dirt road, in a pasture. She tried to visit him again, but the rain had washed his grave away.
You know it really sucked what happened to Telly, and I felt bad becuase 2names felt so bad. But honestly when I think about it, and I'm an animal lover, its well...let me just say that little guy probably thought it was going to be so much fun and he'd have the time of his life when he jumped in that dryer.
Kinda like when you go on one of those spinning rides at the fair right after eating a ton of cotton candy and drinking a gallon of pop. Your excited, you can tell something big is about to happen, then the ride starts up and your getting jerked around and the ride starts picking up speed, and your thinking "oh this isn't so bad" then it picks up more speed, you get those little butterflies in your stomach, but then things start to change very quickly and panic takes over as the ride disorients you beyond all your recollections of normalcy, your heart drops down to your stomach, and you realized that the thing is just going faster and faster and faster, and it starts to sink in that the stupid thing is never going to stop.
Slowly you start to get hotter and hotter and your mouth is watering and all you see is blurs wizzing past, the distinct taste of cotton candy begins to creep back up only this time it doesn't taste the same as when it went down...you try to maintain control but then your body takes over and tries to expell all demons in an attempt to establish some form of equalibrium. Condensed and highly moisturized with Root Beer, brown cotton candy spews out of your mouth splashing the six people beside you on the ride. If they weren't screaming before, they are surely screaming in disgust now, and yelling to stop the ride before a puke fest ensues....
That's what I think it was like for Telly, except everything stopped before he was able to be humilated in front of all his friends.

Aliens Exist

Ok I know some people out there don't believe in aliens or that life exists in alternate universes, but I'd like to say to those that don't believe...your stupid. *sticks tongue out turns walks away very snotty like*
I'd like to say that the following may make me sound crazy, but I am not, I am a perfectly rational human, however besides being addicted to true crime TV shows, I also dabble in conspriracy theories and enjoy reading about pedophiles. I repeat this does not make me crazy or I pedophile (or at least I hope not).
First of all, I don't know when my fascination with extraterrestrial life came about, it sort of always been there. I just can't fathom there not being something else out there and I'm am naturally aroused and amused by things I don't understand or know everything about.
With space, it is (as far as we know) literally endless. And I'm not even using literally in a figurative sense, it is in a literal sense. So someone please tell me, how we are the only planet out there with living organism on it, I'm sorry I just don't believe it.
Not only that but if you read the news, and I'm not even referring to the freaky deaky news, there are hundreds of stories about unexplained sightings of objects flying in the air, crazy things falling out of the sky and even sightings caught on video. Of course the government has explanations for many of them, most of the time the "explanations" are so bogus, and only unless your a complete dumbass would you actually believe that the government is telling the truth. I am willing to believe that some supposed alien sightings could very well be secret government testing of equipment that they don't want the common Joe to know about and more importantly other countries. B
ut I also have a hard time believing that we aren't in contact with aliens, or at least have some knowledge of them.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/01/23/airforce.ufo/index.html

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/05/14/britain.ufos/index.html?iref=newssearch

Now I know there are those that don't care about space and what we do out there. I'm actually more interested in the stuff we don't know about, there lies the truth.
Are we really alone? I'm sorry I just don't think so.

Blowing stuff up

The Hubby and I spent our first 3 day weekend together mostly at home. And it was great.
July 4th, we did go over to the English People's House then later we attended Rina's (MIL) get together. We decided not to stay and watch the fireworks show at Firewheel, instead we drove home and ended up passing out before Midnight, cuz we are such party animals.
Then on Friday, the 5th, we did some stuff around the house, made a briskit, and hung out together.
When the sun went down, we live far enough on the edge of town, that we could see people lucky enough to live outside of the city limits shooting off fireworks from our back patio. I guess The Hubby got a little jealous of those shooting off thier own fireworks and after a few beers and a few glasses of wine for me, we decided that blowing some stuff up, sounded like a good idea.
Lucky for us we watered our lawn earlier in the day (becuase we probably would have started it on fire, it was quite dry).
We started with sparklers, then went on to these things that spun and then took off up in the air, tried to light off a few things that were supposed to sparkle on the ground but they just lit on fire.
Also had a few, I'd call them M-80's, you know big firecracker that is really loud...but none of them went off. Duds...
The stuff we had was about 3 years old. We did have some fun with our worms...worms are great, light them on fire and watch them grow.
We didn't light our lawn on fire and we didn't get arrested, turned out to be a pretty ok evening.

Don't make me cry

Chuck Norris has to use a stunt double when he does crying scenes.

I'm not much of a cryer either.
Not to say that I don't ever cry, but the tears, they are few and far between for me.
I don't cry at sappy movies, although I do know people that cried while watching King Kong (not going to name any names, he knows who he is).
I don't typically cry when I'm in pain. I cry mostly when I get really pissed off, or when being forced to say something hard to say to someone when having a serious conversation.
I sometimes cry when my feelings are hurt. And I cry when I lose someone I love.
I don't know why I do it, but sometimes when I'm sick and I have to tell someone that I'm sick, like a boss or when I was a kid my mom, I will start crying. I think becuase I don't like to admit when I'm sick. And I feel like such a loser having to say that I'm sick and I have to stay or go home. It really very strange and I can't control it.
Mostly I cry when I'm pissed. So don't piss me off. Also don't piss on me. I might cry, but I'll definately kick your ass and so will Chuck.

The Bomb

My first car was called "The Bomb" Mostly becuase it was blue, old and sometimes sounded like a bomb.

Not to be confused with "Da Bomb" becuase that it most certainly was not.

The Bomb was a hand-me-down, from my my parents to my older sister, then to my brother, then to me. I know it was a 1976 Dodge, and I think it was a Royal Manoco. (It looked pretty much like the picture, except the bomb was faded blue, and it had a white vinyl top or whatever you call that)

There was no air-conditioning, no FM radio, and no cassette player. Oh and when you did turn the radio on it just made a high pitched squealing sound. One of my friends dubbed The Bomb, the Squirrel Meat Machine, because he thought it sounded like squirrels were killing themselves in an attempt to make my car run when you did attempt to turn on the AM dial.

So to bring the tunes to my car we usually carried along a walkman with some speakers or a ghettoblaster. (Oh yea)

Cruising in The Bomb was pretty cool, I could fit 8 of my friends pretty easily and she had the smoothest ride going over hills and the Bartley Bumps.(Some interesections in a neighboring town that had some extreme DIPS in them that no matter how fast you were going you would't bottom out)

The Bomb however said her final good-byes the summer before my senior year. My parents sold her to someone wanting to use her in a demolition derby at the county fair. The ol' girl did pretty good too, until her tranny dropped and then she got pummelled.

Sometimes it just hits you

I'm sitting in my little cubicle today and it just sort of hits me. I have been at this job for over 2.5 years. I'm actually only 4 months away from my 3 year mark.
This doesn't mean I'm fully vested yet in my 401K, nor does it come with a higher rate of pay, furthermore, I won't get to pick out a present from the company for reaching said milestone.
No, October 3 will probably come and go without much hooplah... But for me it signifies the longest I have held a full-time job ever.
Now this is not to say that 3 years is the longest amount of time I have been employed. No, no, no...I have held various jobs, actually quite a large variety of of jobs, this is just the longest I have stayed with one company. Which also goes hand in hand with my living conditions.
This is the longest I have stayed in one place since highschool.
My working life started out probably a little younger than most, as I took over my sister's paper route when I was in third grade. 63 papers had to be delivered every day except Sunday.
The route started right after school and I usually made it back home around 5:30 or 6 p.m. every night. And on Saturday's the delivery was in the morning.
I did this for about 3 years. And I think I can count on one hand the amount of times one of my parents drove me around, because of heat, rain or snow.
I actually think it was just once.
I delivered those papers, in 100 degree heat, through downpouring rain and minus 20 degrees with blowing wind and snow. And never thought twice about it.
Luckily for me, about half way through my route, was the business section, in which I was able to enter air-conditioned buildings, or heated buildings on the very roughest of days. And most people allowed me a moment or so of rest before going back out.
I of course had my "buddies" on my route, those that I would stop and chit chat with for a few moments every day, unless of course I was trying to beat a quickest time or something. (Occassionaly I would see how fast I could get my route done, by riding my bike and sprinting to the doors for delivery, I wasn't allowed to "throw" the paper.)
First on my route was Mr. Goodenburger, he owned the barber shop, and he was the father of one of my classmates. Then I had the receptionist at the gas company (I can't remember her name but she was very nice) Then Stu, he was a bookkeeper of some sort, Then I stopped in at the lighthouse on my way home. (I had to quit stopping there as Nanner Nose was getting a little too friendly with me as I got older[on another side note Nanner Nose was the town window peep])
The hardest place to deliver was the ceramic shop. When you walk in the door of this place it is floor to ceiling of shelves filled with ceramic figurines. And the walking space between shelves wasn't very wide. And I had to go through there with my carrier pack on, which consisted of a big bag on the front and a big bag on the back that I wore over my head, usually filled with newspapers. I had to walk into the shop lay the paper on the counter then deftly turn around and carefully walk back out. Making sure not to let the bags swing too much and knock a breakable off the shelf.
Overall, I hated the paper route. I didn't make a lot of money, because I let some people slide with thier monthly payments. (Yes I had to collect the money for the paper) I hated confrontation, still do actually.
And I didn't get to sit at home watching "Saved by the Bell" and "Ricky Lake" like all my friends did.
I also attribute the paper route to the demise of my money handling skills. As I was the owner of a checking account at a very early age, and learned the skill of floating checks while others were still begging mom and dad for the cash.
I just wrote a check and hoped money would magically appear in the account. And most of the time the money didn't appear and my mom would find the overdraft notice and come yell at me. Though I never learned my lesson.
And lastly, I hated that my hands were always black with the print. You couldn't get away with touching anything. One time, one of my business customers told me I needed to quit picking my nose. I didn't know what he was talkin about until I got home and looked in the mirror and saw that my nose was all black.