Archive for the ‘life’ Category

The Police Report

November 22, 2008

First let me clarify… I am in no way involved in the report.

We were at a bar-b-que enjoying the fine Texas atmosphere of cold beer, half drunk women draped across boisterous manly men, who raved about their heroes on the football field. Ya know, Basic Texas stuff.

We were joined by a couple of Houston’s finest, Boys in Blue. (the Law)

It wasn’t long before they too had cups of …ummm… soda (yeah I am sure they wouldn’t be drinking on the job)

One of the officers began telling of a report that he had to file some time back. It was a terrible accident scene. The rider of the motorcycle had been thrown off his bike and an arm severed.

The officer said, “I found his arm laying in the esplanade, but I didn’t know how to spell esplanade, so I picked the arm up and tossed it in the ditch.”

I almost did an un-lady-like thing and spit my drink all over the place. It was so funny hearing him explain. (not funny that some poor soul was had his arm severed and was killed.) But funny that the officer was so…

I don’t even know how to describe him… It sounded like a screwball twisted line from Scary Movie.

The funny part was knowing it was a real event. Life is funnier than any writer could ever imagine in a script. (well, it is for me in my Twilight Zone existence)

Beads?????

November 21, 2008

So, I am sitting at a red light this morning when I glance over to the truck on my left. The driver gives me the “look.”

You know the look of which I speak; the look that says, “Let me take you for a ride.”  The look that undresses you and makes you feel slightly vulnerable.

Well thanks to extremely long red light, time seemed to freeze. Then his rear-view mirror caught my attention. Draped across the mirror were several (I would guess 50 or so) strands of Mardi Gras beads.

Which left me wondering….

a.) Do those beads belong to this guy’s wife/girlfriend? If so, why is he making lewd gestures in my direction? My mind never shuts off and is often flying on various tangents… Now I want to know what his home life is like:

  • Is he getting any at home?
  • Is he one of those fools who creeps even though his wife is wonderful?
  • Is his wife living on life support and unable to … ?

b.) Does this dude flash his boobies to collect the beads?

c.) Does this dude carry strands of beads in case some woman decides to flash her boobies for him?

or more than likely…

d.) The dude was just making weird faces because he had eaten something bad and also had something in his eye… He probably didn’t even notice I was looking at him.

… and then the light turned green and I was off chasing another tangent….

This goes in the Nuh-uh file

November 12, 2008

I would not be surprised if you do not believe me, because I would not believe me if I had not witnessed this with my own eyes:

Last night Mr. J and I had a meeting downtown. It was on a street which we were not familiar so we decided to scope out the area early, find the building, grab a bite to eat, and then head back in time for the meeting.

We found the building about an hour before our meeting so we decided to stop in at Popeye’s for some yummy fried chicken and red beans & rice. Lucky us, Popeyes has a special on Tuesdays and you can get 9 pieces of dark meat for 4.99. This was wonderful as we both love legs and thighs. (although I doubt we could eat 9 pieces, we were up for the challenge)

The drive thru line was long and we had plenty of time to spare so we went inside. Whew, only three people in line ahead of us!

Then, my mouth dropped open… The lady in the front of the line ordered two 9 piece orders and an additional EIGHTY pieces of chicken. We stayed just long enough to make sure we had heard her correctly, yep, a total of 98 pieces. Holy crap-o-la! Even if they had enough chicken to cover her order and enough to fill the two other orders ahead of us, it would take FOREVER to for our measly nine pieces to be cooked.

We darted across the street and had tacos… But I had a good laugh when Mr. J said, “That woman had no business ordering 98 pieces of chicken, knowing full well she could not eat more than 50… 60 max.”

Yes, we are just awful.

Overlook me for a few…

July 1, 2008

Warning: Today’s post is a rant… it is not pretty nor is it witty… Just getting shit off my chest.

 

 

Joe Horn Cleared by Grand Jury

 

I give Mr. Horn two thumbs up. It is because of this case that we have made pacts with some of our neighbors. We will shoot to kill to protect each other and each other’s property.

 

For those of you who live in Mayberry neighborhoods, I am very happy for you.

We don’t and we are not going to sit idly by while criminals continue to molest our neighborhood.

 

Last month we had three murders in as many weeks within two blocks of my front door and numerous home invasions, robberies, and car thefts. Between rivaling gangs, illegal aliens, and Katricians we have had enough.

 

If a son-of-a-bitch breaks into my home or my car, he better pray that neither I nor my neighbors are home.

 

Until criminals realize that we are not going to back down, they will continue to hold us hostage.

 

For those who ask, “Do you feel robbery is a justifiable reason to kill another person?” I say yes.

 

I do not allow the mosquito on my arm to steal my blood without trying to kill it. Neither would I allow the leaches to society to steal my property without trying my best to eliminate them. 

 

I will change my stance when a more viable solution is implemented which deters such acts. Perhaps we should take something from third world countries and lop off a limb??? 

 

This was not always my stand… But I am tired.

 

I get up every morning and go to work, rain or shine. I would prefer to sit on the sofa and sip Mimosas while flipping thru the morning news paper. I would prefer to spend my afternoons in the park watching the squirrels chase each other around the trees.

 

Alas, I have a mortgage, a car note, a light bill, and the desire to eat without relying on what is found in the dumpster behind Fogo’s. Short of going on welfare, I will need to work for another 15 or so years. I am ok with this…

But, I am tired.

 

I am tired of watching my back for thugs who are preying on the inattentive. I am tired of double checking my locks when my dogs are going nuts. I am tired of criminals being handed light sentences and then being set free to continue on their path of robbing, burglarizing, raping, and killing the unsuspecting.

 

I sincerely hope a four day weekend of Mimosas and S’mores will adjust my attitude and put me at peace… Right now, I just don’t see it happening.

6 Word Meme

June 23, 2008

I am gosh awful about making posts when I am tagged, and I am going to try to respond more quickly.

 

The fabulously funny and sexy L’il ‘trucker’ Trisha tagged me with this meme. (Trisha, this is the last time I will call you by that name…. Sorry, it is just too darn funny)

 

Here are the rules:

·  Write a six-word memoir.

·  Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.

·  Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.

·  Tag 5 more blogs with links.  (this was added along with the last rule because they know I am lazy and would rebel)

·  Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.

 

“She is burying them out back.”

 

 

 

I often joke about burying the bodies of those who, in my mind, are past the point of an attitude adjustment. In reality, I am working on burying my own ISSUES in the back yard. I don’t know if I have enough back yard to cover all of the crazies bouncing in my head and might have to take a few of them with me to our new home when we move. It’s all good; even though the bullshit runs deep, it does make an excellent fertilizer.

 

Here are my targets… No ducking the shovel:

 

Chris over at bound and gags

Girly over at girly digs

Mr. Manly at mister manly

MJ over at m j’s place

Spidey over at hate and anger

Taoist B at taoist biker

JAMom over at purple colored glasses

K. T. over at ugly ass opinion 

Allison at  trixfiend.wordpress.com

 

Ya’ll know I can’t count.

 

*Public Service Announcement* I will be away from the computer more than I will be near it for the next week or so. I have a wonderful, but unexpected visitor and all my free time will be spent catching up … My gorgeous son is officially home from the Army!!!!!

Which do you want first?

June 19, 2008

The Good News or the Bad News?

 

I will go ahead with the good news, hoping it will soften the bad news. I have my new cell phone /camera /data processor /MP3 player /video camera /video gamer /organizer /calendar /calculator /baby maker… ok, nix the last one.

 

It is here and as you can see from the prior phone picture:

 

 

It was well over do.

 

Here it is in all it’s shiny glory.

  

 

I may never know how to make it do ANYTHING when I want it to, but it is here. I have exactly one number stored at this point: “AAA-Hunk of a Hubby! Mr. J”

 

When he called me this morning I was so busy being impressed with the name that was displayed, that I forgot to actually answer the call. Now I have to find out how to retrieve messages. So my day is pretty much spent.

 

… And for the bad news:

 

In the house on the corner lives a sweet elderly couple. The Chungs have lived on the corner for at least ten years. Mrs. Chung always cracked me up when she was out walking with her stick. She must be in her eighties… Although tough to understand, there was never any mistaking the smile and the wave of her stick and when she was upset the stick took on another life. She would tap the sidewalk vehemently and rattle off something that if one could understand, would probably make us all blush. And there was Mr. Chung, who was seen twice a day walking his Jack Russell terrier. I never received more than a polite nod and a lopsided partial smile from Mr. Chung, but there was always a look of approval when he looked over my flower beds.

 

Last night we saw their son putting up a for sale sign. Fearing the worse, I asked Mr. J to stop and ask if every thing was alright with our elderly neighbors. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…

 

Sunday evening as Mr. Chung was coming in from a walk, he was beaten and robbed. He was just released from the hospital last night. Whatever happened to respect for the elderly? Was it not enough to take this man’s possessions? Why the hell did they feel they had to beat him as well?  

 

Hugs go out to the Chung family.

 

 (this picture ganked from quizilla )

 

We only have 3 ½ months and we will be posting our sign and getting the hell out of Dodge as well.  

Owning Up…

June 18, 2008

“Will the Real Slim Shady” please stand up?

Sorry Em, but I am using your brilliance to make a blogosphere funny. Yes, Em -n- Me have convos all the time. No, he is not aware of our chats. I am sure he would like to be a more active part, but life is bogarting his time.

Alrighty, now that apologies to the Em-meister are complete, lets get back to the issue at hand.

Who the Hell is Fucking up the system? (It is so easy to get in my cursing quota these days)  

Do you need me to spell it out for you? You know what you have done and are now cowering over your bowl of Capt. Crunch, trying to brush them away… pretending to the city that they have absolutely nothing to do with you.

I Know Better.

The giant swarms of black house flies are not an infestation, Oh no. It is not a matter of heat and very little rain. You can try and chump it off on Mother Nature, but we know it is your doing.

You know that you are the root of this plague of ‘Bastages’ (Mr. J’s word) and we want you to fess up. There is no reason the entire city should suffer.

This morning alone, I killed eleven of the flying disease bags. Eleven!

Please stand up… Please stand up…

Confess, what it was that you did to make the Heavens open up and cast these lip buzzing-maggot producing-feces loving scourge upon us?

(This picture ganked from Thinksimian )

We are not going to hurt you. No, we would prefer to tie you to a tree (far from my yard) dip you in shit and let the flies have a comfy place to congregate other than my kitchen.

This is as close of am image as I can find that depicts what I imagine for the sinner in hiding.

This picture was ganked from Myspace 

Say What?

June 10, 2008

Last night I was sweeping off the patio while Mr. J was talking with Mike, our neighborhood drug dealer. (Every neighborhood needs someone to dispense the pharmaceuticals, right?)

 

Out of the blue, Mike throws out this gem:

 

“When your wife is sitting at her desk, it would be real easy for someone to shoot her.”

 

I almost dropped the broom. I must have heard him wrong. There is absolutely no way someone would actually say that… I discovered rather quickly that there is no way someone with more than four brain cells would actually utter those words.

 

I could feel Mr. J’s jaw clenching from 10 yards away. Even the birds in the trees stopped chirping. Oh, this is not gonna end well.

 

Mr. J: Come again?

 

Mike: I’m just saying, she shouldn’t sit where people can see her. Just lookin’ out for her, man.

 

Note: To see me at my desk one would need to have a ladder or be sitting in the tree in the front yard.  This guy was giving me the creeps.

 

Mr. J stepped up nose to nose with Mike, who was pinned against the fence and said, If my wife so much as breaks a finger nail and I find out you were within 100 yards of her, I will hunt you down. Do you understand? That goes for your drug buddies as well.

 

Mike: Oh no Mr. J, I would never hurt your wife. You know that. I was just worried about her.

 

It was at that time that I used our ‘break-it-up’ code. I told Mr. J that he had an important phone call.  

 

In the house, Mr. J was still shaking with furry. He told me that I should have let him beat the point into Mike’s thick skull. He wanted to make sure that Mike knew he was serious, and that Mike was afraid.

 

I smiled and explained that Mike was indeed scared as he had peed in his pants.

 

Speaking of phone calls…

 

I have had the same cell phone for years. I cannot take picture, access the internet or even text. I can however send and receive phone calls, which is the reason I purchased it.

 

This picture was ganked from  Zigzackly 

 

Yesterday, I opened it up for what was probably the 48 thousandth time and it broke in half. I am left debating whether or not to replace it. You see it still works fine. I am able to send and receive calls, but I need to hold the two pieces together.

 

While searching for pictures of my particular cell phone, I found this cool replacement.

 

 

This picture ganked from  Nulldot

 

Yes, it is an actual cell phone and only slightly larger than the one I now carry. I also saw a cell phone that looks like a gun. This is a tragedy waiting to happen. I hope it is a photshop picture.

 

 

This picture ganked from Spiiderweb

 

Rebel Without a Clue

June 6, 2008

Today’s post might be tough to follow as my thoughts are kind of flighty jumbled this morning. I am dealing with both inner and outside turmoil leaving my brain in utter chaos.

 

We have been throwing several ideas back and forth as to the location and type of home we want to move to. Ideally we would be living on our own back forty with a pool and plenty of room to stretch out.

 

However, if we opt for acreage we will only have enough left in the budget for a home like this:

 

Even that would beat the feeling which our neighborhood gives us that we are trapped in this:

 

 

Perhaps we will be able to find a quiet neighborhood something like this:

 

 

Stewing over the choices we took a break and watched one of my most favorite movies; “Rebel Without a Cause.”

 

The conflicts portrayed in the movie have lain heavy on me today, refusing to ease up.   

 

 

I spent the better part of the night researching the writing and directing of the movie. It is FACINATING stuff.

 

I especially love the words of the director, Nicholas Ray, who in speaking of James Dean said:

 

The conflict between giving himself and fear of giving in to his own feelings; a vulnerability so deeply embedded that one is instantly moved, almost disturbed by it.

 

… Adding to the already cluttered thoughts of the movie and finding the perfect home, are the anger and frustration felt when a ‘heffa’ (Texas ghetto slang for stupid ass bitch) tried not once, not twice, but three times to run Mr. J and me off the road last night. I could tell Mr. J’s blood pressure was elevating to a dangerous level. This woman tried repeatedly to ram the side of our car. We stopped to let her move on and she stopped and backed up to us. We took a few pictures of her erratic behavior and called the police. I have no idea if they did anything other than take our info… But, it was frustrating.

 

I did manage to chuckle under my breath when Mr. J said, “If she were a man I would beat the shit out of her.”

 

So today I am rebelling against life in general. There is nothing else for me to do because my mind is refusing to rationalize. How does a sensible business woman rebel the ass-backwardness of life? Shit, I do not have a clue. So I am rebelling via my wardrobe. Today there are no high heels, no fancy suits, no pantyhose… I am wearing saggy-baggy blue jeans and a uuber soft T-shirt.

 

Yes, I am sticking it to the establishment. I am a Rebel. A Rebel without a clue. All that I do know is I am not going to do it. I have absolutely no clue what it is I am not going to do, but no one is going to make me do whatever it is I am not going to do. I am serious… Well, kind of.

 

The Twisted Sister song just jumped into my head. “We’re Not Gonna Take It” …

 

This is an excellent theme song for the new rebel in me.

 

I wish I could write scripts for people’s lives and hand them to the cast to be acted out as written. I would hand the police their script today.

 

Act One; Scene One… (This is a short piece)

 

Police Officer knocking on the door of aforementioned ‘heffa’: Ma’am, we have been contacted by the Cracker Jacks Corporation and they have rescinded your driving privileges. You will need to hand over the license which they issued to you.

 

You have the right to remain silent. We are asking that you exercise this right. We do not want to hear your foul mouth. Do you understand? If you do not understand a roll of duct tape will be provided and applied.

 
 

 

Scene fades out…

… And another quote by Nicolas Ray:

“The imagination is a pretty precious source of protection.”

Mini Rants

May 28, 2008

Wednesday is my normal bitch and moan day… However, I did more than my fair share yesterday. So today I am going to throw out some mini rants.

***Edit: No more emails… That is not an actual picture of MY teeth. In fact every picture on this post was borrowed from the net. (even the genius in the last picture… I know, I know… looks so much like me)

1. My teeth ~ Oh woe is me. I have sacrificed the pearly whites to years of coffee drinking. They became a lovely shade of mocha latte.

Which is very cool if I am trying to match fall colored outfits with my teeth. This past year my vanity got the best of me and I had them puppies whitened. I love my smile again…

Now for the whine/rant/woe fest… I am helplessly addicted to brushing my teeth. I am so afraid of stains that I brush a minimum of 6 times per day… sometimes 8 or 9 times. (I lose track) Alas, a well meaning co-worker ruined my high by telling me that I am destroying the enamel on my teeth with all the brushing.

SHIT! Shit! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

2. Iron ~ Is it helping me or poisoning me. The doctor said I need it desperately to ensure oxygen is reaching my brain. From some of my posts, it is painfully obvious that I am low on oxygen. So now I find out that I may be poisoning myself with all the iron. My liver may have tons of it stored up causing many of the same symptoms of a person with low iron.

 The other thing to note is that hemoglobin is not iron! Yes, you are anemic if your hemoglobin is low but that does not necessarily mean your iron is low. Indeed, what might be happening is that the iron is collecting in storage instead of going into hemoglobin. You are actually iron-loaded and need iron removed despite the anemia. The anemia should be treated with B vitamins, especially B12, B6 and folic acid. Many patients with anemia are dying of iron overload, and some are hastened to their death by their physicians who give them more iron.

Even a small amount of excess iron can damage heart and brain and other storage sites in the body and lead to heart attack or stroke.

WELL FUCK ME! What is it Doc?

3. This is not really a rant, more a grimace at my poor dieting attempts. I AM going to lose the 10 lbs by the first of July, even if I have to remove a limb… The weight is coming off. Last night I decided to go thru the house and rid it of all the junk food. Chocolate, Potato Chips, Ice Cream, Girl Scout Cookies… etc.

But I had to stop about half way thru because I was getting full. hehehe… OK, I didn’t really eat ALL of the junk food, only the chocolate. There is no way in Hell I could ever justify throwing away Chocolate. A bag of chips and some ice cream, maybe.

Anyway today is day two of my almost strict eating plan. Last night I made baked chicken and steamed veggies. I also made Mr. J some smashed taters (he is not on a diet)… and I was good… ALMOST. I did lick the spoon, but it was not my fault. I had to make sure I had added enough cream and butter.

4. I have a fairly decent grasp of the English language, yet certain words get tripped up in my head. I am cool if I am reading the word. But, trying to think of certain words as they float just out of reach is driving me batty. Last night I asked Mr. J if he would pick me up some of my special tea and I could not for the life of me pronounce the word MEDICINAL. For some retarded ass reason the word kept coming out meCIDinal. I knew it was wrong, but couldn’t wrap my brain around the correct pronunciation.

I often have the same problem with the word Cathedral… For some odd reason it wants to come out as CATHedrawl… short e, with the emphasis on the first syllable.  This one is more an issue when I see it in print as it follows no logic in the English rules. (there are rules, right?)

5. And the last mini rant is merely another *sigh* point in my life. Once upon a time, long, long ago. I was asked to participate in a study. I went thru a series of IQ tests. I was not told the results at first, instead I was called back in for more tests. Surprisingly my scores ranged from 155-171. Over the years I have received numerous mailings from Tulane University asking me to help with various research projects and inviting me to alumni events.

This has always been a J family joke. When we hear that Tulane is playing any Texas college, I have to cheer for Tulane. Last week I received another request asking me to come in for more tests… I am going to pass. I am sure my brain could not even throw out enough guesses to score me a 43. I will continue to pretend that I am a genius… or as we like to say, a purty good guesser.