Wordless Wednesday

Because it IS still technically Wednesday.

Cleanliness is next to Goodwill, as long as you have trashbags

My aura has been cleansed! Thanks to my loverly friend Jess, my bedroom now looks more like a bedroom rather than a room at Goodwill.

I haven't done a complete clothes closet cleansing in approximately 4 years. WOW. So far, between Master Wog and I, there are 4 HUGE black trash bags SLAP FULL of clothes going to Goodwill. The best part, I haven't even gotten to the fucking closet yet. All of that was from drawers and stray shit that just got shoved into crevices in the black pit of house that is our bedroom.

I figured a good cleansing was necessary. See, what had happened was...my closet kind of....how do I put it....committed closet suicide.

We had one of those gangster wire organizers in there. Similar to this.


I was preparing to take a shower a couple weeks ago by picking out what I was going to put on. Standing in front of my closet, I pulled a shirt off a hanger...the whole fucking thing fell. Just flop. The top shelf was now on top of the shiton of shit that used to be a semi organized chaotic clusterfuck of shit. Mind you, this mofo was full. Absolutely NO space to hang or shelf space. No wall space, as a matter of fact. Strangely though, in my half awake daze of what-the-fuck-just-happened, my immediate thought was, 'Damn, I hope there wasn't a cat in there.'

I broke down this weekend and bought a new closet organizer. And beer to help me install it.

I begged and pleaded with Jess (ok, so I just asked her) to let me abuse her amazing organizational skills. And with a case o'beer and about 12 trash bags, we slowly made our way toward the closet. She helped me go through both my dresser and Master Wog's. Now, I am taking a break from going through all of the clothes and clutter on the floor of the closet. Holy shit, what was I thinking?

Hopefully I won't find a bogeyman.

Or a cat.

I've been through the desert on a horse named Miller Lite

Well HI!! Here I am!

Wow, it sure has been a hot minute since I blogged, but I have an excuse...

Ok, not so much. I have just been sleeping in A LOT and rarely getting on the computer. So, Let's see...what's new in the world that is mine...

I bought this magnificent piece of floor decor for my cats to shit in.


I have been a jewelry making fool! I haven't sold anything, but have given several sets away as gifts. But I've found that I really enjoy making jewelry. I guess it is better than drinking, right?
This one I made from two different necklaces I owned that I accidentally popped in a semi-drunken stupor.
The newest. Made specifically for me.
I have dubbed this one "Space Balls", although I'm not really sure why.

The one above being one of my most favorite (hence the smiley face and 'L' charm.)

Love this. I call it my Zebra Balls when I wear it.
Red "Space Balls".






Kane was trying to help me get the necklace in position.


My leg is still healed. I opted out of taking a picture of the scar tonight because I had already showered and didn't shave. And I'm being too lazy to get up and fix another mixed drink much less go shave half of one leg. So maybe tomorrow.

What else, what else....OH! I still don't have a fucking job, but the Georgia Department of Labor is being quite kind to me.

Last month was realllllly tough. I went through the 6th anniversary of the death of my cousin. Master Wog and I celebrated our 6th anniversary. Six years since mom lost her leg, and last but certainly not least, November 18th was one year since I lost my mom.

Monday, December 7th, would have been her 48th birthday.

Needless to say, I was in a deep dark whole for the better (or worst) part of November. BUT, my 25th birthday is next week. One quarter century I have lived through. I am hoping to get completely shitfaced. I'm sure with my friends that can be managed.

I promise to actually make an attempt to keep up with this damn blog now. I have so much to tell, and so little brain room to remember it.

Jeh-nay? Is that you?

I have really had a hard time sleeping...as in, I go to bed at 3 am and wake up a little after 11:00am, drink some horrible instant coffee and try to be some sort of productive. I tell you, somehow unemployment does WONDERS for your beauty sleep. Because I look fucking fabulous.

Well, the other night, after around 7 beers, a bombtastic dinner and hosting three baths of the canine type, I was in bed. After watching a ton of reruns, it was close to 4:00am and I was in that special sleepy place... you know, the one where if you hear any sound or feel any movement your heart says 'WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT' and your body goes into shock. Yeah. THAT one. Anywho.. I was in that happy place when all of the sudden I feel this horrid vibration in the bed. My eyes shoot open, I catch my breath and realize... ok, it was just a cat jumping onto the foot of the bed.

But still.

Kitty (my adorable GIANT FAT ASS cat) decided to jump in bed with me.

It was dark. And cold. Perfect for my sleepingness material. I halfway re-open my eyes and there she is, staring at me.

Without even thinking, I immediately looked her chunky ass in the eye and said, with all the Georgia redneck I could never imagine I ever possessed...

"Seat's taken."

Yeah. Seriously. That is what I said. Half asleep. TO MY CAT. AT 3AM.

She sat there and kind of stared at me, like she was saying with her cat eyes, "Scuse me betch, but dis bed be mine too. Now, move the eff ova and let me getsta sleepins too."

Master Wog was asleep, snoring his precious little bearded head off. I just lay there. Stunned. I couldn't believe that, of ALL the things MY subconcious could EVER conjour, I got fucking Forrest Gump.

W.
T.
F.

Seriously? Forrest Gump? THAT part of Forrest Gump? I could have atleast thought of the 'life is like a box of chocolate' part. Or even the 'Dear God, please make me a bird and let me fly far, far away from here.' Damn.

Apparently, my unemployed subconcious is getting the best of me.

Either that, or I have watched Forrest Gump entirely too much in the last two months.

Oops, I did it again

Talk about a rough day...

Today was the first day of my new job. (Insert loud angry BUZZER here) Boy, was I wrong. I was so excited. I thought it was going to work out amazingly....NOT.

Turns out, they offer absolutely NO insurance. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. But seeing as how I am FALLING THE FUCK APART at 24...I need insurance. My insulin alone is upwards of $200.00 alone per month. The thing that pisses me off is that I waited until AFTER I got hired to ask them about it. Duh. I am an idiot for assuming that the offered insurance. Oh well.

So, now the plan is to continue to sit on my ass and clean house and kill fruit flies until I find something that is perfect.

Maybe I will get into the pesticide business.

Back With a Vengence

And eradication of Fruit Flies all over the fucking world.

I. HATE. THEM.

They are evil. And this whole time I thought roaches were demon spawn...NOOOOO. Fruit Flies are.

They have taken over Redbird's cage. So much so that when I went to feed him a few minutes ago, I heard a collective hummmmmmm of their little evil wings. I told Master Wog that I think Red is planning world domination and using the flies as his army.

Whew, ok, had to get that off my chest.

So, I am still unemployed. Had a couple good interviews but no call back. And, may I just thank the Georgia Department of Labor AND my former employer for hookin' it up with my unemployment checks. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but my unemployment equals only about $250.00 less a month than my normal salary.

Woo to the mutha fuckin hoo.

A friend of mine offered me a job making a tid bit over minimum wage...I had to thank her kindly and move on. I left out the part about how I make (A SHITTON) more than that sitting on my ass and fighting fruit flies.

In other news, I have started making more and more jewelry. As it turns out, I don't like Soap Operas or The View, so there really isn't much more to do before 5:00 other than drink and watch TLC re-runs...but that didn't work out well. So I just started focusing on making jewelry and watching Discovery Channel re-runs. It has kept me occupied, which (according to Master Wog...and ONLY Master Wog) is better than sleeping til 3:00. Damnit.

In better news, I found out that not having a job makes it a lot easier to keep the house clean. Dude, seriously, my house is SPOTLESS. With the exception of that whole Demon fly army Redbird is hatching. I figured I would wait to see what type of strategy he and the demons are using before I kilt them dead.

I hope all of you out there in Blogdom are doing well. I am glad to be back, and will make a valiant effort to stay back...and not disappear into Kanye West's ego.

Will Work For Beer

Well hello again world. Here I am! As most of you read over at Jess’ place, I got laid off last Friday. Completely unexpected, almost 4 years I worked there. So many relationships and so much professional growth, POOF! And may I just say…IT FUCKING SUCKS.

I really enjoyed my job. But, life goes on.

I have already gotten my resume done (thanks to Jess for her wonderful wonderfulness) and have thrown it to a few places. Ya’ll keep your fingers crossed for me. If I don’t find something soon, we may have to sell Master Wog’s beard to pay the mortgage.

Other than not having a job and steady paycheck, all is well in the world of me. I am now able to go on a mini vacation with Jess & Co. this coming weekend to New Orleans (WOOOHOOO!!!). Initially I wasn’t able to go because I would have had to take time off of work. Now, not so much an issue.

In other good news, Burney is still healed. The scar is slowly but surely fading. It is now like a dark fuchsia pink rather than a dark doo doo purple. I don’t have to go to Wound Care anymore, which is a huge relief.

So, I am here. Somewhere. Still breathing and kickin’ ass in karaoke. I’m just in a bit of a funky funk right now.

I will be back soon though, my little bloggy love muffins, keep on smilin’ while I’m away.

Ever seen a roach so scared it shit itself?

I have.





And now you have.


You may remember this post that Jess did over at This Life Is Mine several months ago. And if you have EVER read her blog, you know that we enjoy poop talk. We are alos fascinated by animal poop, like she said here. Every morning during our first smoke break of the day, we discuss our morning poop. Sometimes the color is funky, sometimes it was quite loud, and sometimes it was just a good ole poop.

But when I went to the bathroom this morning, as I do every morning at the office, I saw this little (HUGEFUCKINGCOCKROACHMOTHERFUCKER) guy laying on the floor, twitching at me. After taking a closer look, I realized there were tiny little roach turds laying right next to his almost dead body.

I thought to myself, damn, what a way to go. I figure he was either scared shitless, literally, or was in the middle of taking a monstrous milti-turd roach poop when he caught a whiff of the bug spray. Either way, he is almost dead, and almost dead is better than attacking me any day.


Editors Note: I am a lover of all things furry, fluffed and feather. But I HATE cockroaches. They are the epitome of pure evil, and they can all go to hell, where they belong.

Just sayin'.

I want one. NOW.

A baby goat.

Named Goat.

Master Wog and I went out to a local stable for my sister's birthday party this past weekend (she rides horses). Where I met Goat, I almost stole her from the farm.







Master Wog got on a horse. Doesn't he look regal up there?




There was a miniature horse, named Lexi.



But, more importantly, THERE WAS A BABY GOAT. Named Goat. Who likes pizza.

Woodrow Willow Woodpeckerson, IV

But first, a quick shout out to my sister who is 16 today!!! Happy Birthday Sara!!! And, NO you cannot drive my car!!

A while ago, I wrote about Woodrow Willow Woodpeckerson, III.

Since the Starling RUDELY took over Woody's house, I have not seen him or his family. I still blame the European Starling. Bastard.

BUT, today, Jess and I caught a glimpse of what I believe to be Woody’s son. I know it isn't Woody because of the difference in size and coloring between he and his son. I can only assume he got his mother's thighs and eyes.

Meet Woodrow Willow Woodpeckerson, IV.



I shall call him Quarter. (Being that he is Woodrow Willow Woodpeckerson, IV...get it? the fourth, quarter of one cup...I am just so damn clever sometimes.) (NOT.) I am happy to announce that Quarter and family have now taken up shop their ancestral home in the tree next to our work smoking area. This is a great pleasure for me, as Woody and I were very close. He would holler at his girl (me) from across the street when I walked into work. I can only hope his son has the same affinity for red high heels.


For old times sake, I want to give a quick shout out to my boy Woody, where ever he may be. If he isn't still flying around hollering at girls with red heels on, hopefully he is chillin' with mom, MJ and Syber Kitty (among others)



Yay for new Red Bellied Woodpeckers!

Closed for business

I have officially been discharged from Wound Care. My leg has healed.



I just cannot express in words how grateful I am to be rid of the fucking thing. No more gauze, no more ointments, no more bandages, no more antibiotics. Just me, beer, and a bottle of Jergens Natural Glow.

Woo to the muthafuckin hoo. I'm back ya'll.

O. M. G.

I met a famous person...

Well...famous only to me and the other 10 people that watch our local evening news.

Jess and Co., Master Wog and myself went down to our local (gay) karaoke bar for some well-deserved beer and off key singing when all of the sudden, I was star struck. In walks Mr. Don Logana, a local news anchor (who is quite cute). I have seen him reporting a bajillion times and had NO doubt that this was really him.

Mind you, we had been there for a while. It WAS beer bust for fuck's sake.

Master Wog played pool


We took semi-random, semi-posed pictures.







I realized my tattoo matched the beer bust stamp.


By this point, I was totally drunk enough to waltz over to Mr. Reporter Man and introduce myself. He was very nice, still cute and gay, which just made it SO much more amazing. At least I think he was...but i never ASKED out right, so I'm not really sure if he was or not. But it was like midnight, and we were in a GAY bar. So, we'll just assume.

He politely agreed to take a picture with me. this is the first one we got.



And then he said "Wait, no, let's take another one." Um. OK. Sure.


Boob grab anyone? Priceless.


And then after giggling our asses off, he asked to take one of Jess and I. And as much as we wanted to refuse (yeah-the-fuck-right) we ended with this picture.


That is hotness at its finest right there. I love how you can see us about to burst out in laughter. Note his hand at the bottom middle of the picture.

And then there was a karaoke singing puppet...




Which I still cannot completely wrap my brain around.

Then Jess showed us how to properly air rock.

Last but not least, a couple of shout-outs. Courtest of Jess' body.

Captain Dumbass.



Punk Rock Dad.



And some of my chunky whiteness for Mitzy.




All in all, a lovely night to say the least.

Dear So and So...I said PLEASE

My very first Dear So and So...


It is all Kat's fault


Dear Tummy,

PLEASE stop making that awful sound. I understand that you are angry because all I give you is ground turkey. But it is better for you. Get over it.

Healthy and Hungry,
Larkin
******

Dear Lost Dog I Saw on the Way to Work,

PLEASE find your way home, and be sure to look both ways before crossing the street.

Worried about my furry friend,
Larkin
******

Dear Fruit Flies,

PLEASE leave my house now, and you will not be harmed. I have already purchased the poison and if you are still there when I get home from work, your entire species will be eradicated. I mean it. You will be kilt-dead on spot.

Annoyed Homeowner,
Larkin
******

Dear Brothers of Master Wog,

PLEASE come finish our roof. It is only the front and will only take half a day to finish. I really want to paint the shutters and front door this weekend but Master Wog insists on finishing things before I start new things. You are holding me up. And I want my damn red door. Get a move on.

Annoyed Homeowner,
Larkin
******

Dear HBO,

PLEASE make a new Real Sex. If I have to sit through adult baby fetishes and masterbateathons just to get to the hot fire dance people one more time---I might puke.

Your loyal fan since 1991,
Larkin

P.S. Also, please stop leaving Master Wog and I hanging at the end of EVERY Trueblood episode. It stinks.
******

Dear Termites,

GO AWAY NOW. Please? We just can't afford to kill your ENTIRE family. Please go eat the next door neighbor's house. They need some excitement.

Annoyed Homeowner and Neighbor,
Larkin
******

Closure?

I am damn sure getting there. It has been 108 days since my heating pad tried to kill me. And, now, I am about 10 days away from healing completely.



Right now, I am on 4 different kinds of medication (including, but not limited to Prednisone, Keflex, and Atarax) to help this thing on its way. My rash is going away, but still bothering me. And I have come to grips with the fact that I will have a gnarly ass scar from this entire adventure.

It has been a long and arduous journey and I am glad it is coming to an end.

I need your brain

I need help. My shutters and awning are LIME GREEN. Yes, like a fucking LIME. See?


I didn't realize just how LIME GREEN they were until we pressure washed the house this past weekend. I was like, WOW, dude, our shutters are FUCKING LIME GREEN! Who ever did this needs to be shot in the foot.

I am thinking of taking off the screen door, painting the door a beautiful rich red, and all of the lime green black. I have always loved the look of the red door/black shutter combination, I just don’t know if my little house can pull it off.

As you can see, the roof is not finished yet (note the bundles of shingles sitting up there...) But when it is completed, the roof will be a dark charcoal gray.

I need ideas. Bounce 'em off me.

I have not fallen off the edge of the Earth

I've just been UBERbusy. But still here, nonetheless.



The main highlight of the last week or so...we got new living room furniture. For the free (thanks to Frances!). Master Wog and I were in the market for a new couch and love seat and/or chair a few months ago. After tons of searching, and several trips to Rooms-to-Go and Big Lots with Jess, Wog and I decided against buying new stuff.

It is a good thing we did not buy it, BAM! Free stuff!! Magical.

That last picture reminds me of The Wizard of Oz...can you even dye my pets to match my couch? Jolly good time!

Seriously, who needs matching pillows when you have a dog with coordinating speckles?

Last but not least, Flea's mad face, Kane's nose, and Roxy's ass.