Still Just Me

Holy Lizard Spit, Batman!!

2012-01-25T11:45:00.003-05:00

Leave it to PaulaDeen to bring me back into the blogging world. Some of you may remember this post I wrote a while ago about how much I DESPISE PAULA DEEN. I respect her asa business woman (sort of) but despise the way that she portrays herself (as ablue haired alien who talks like Scarlett and eats only butter, lard and thehearts of little puppies). And now she has announced she is a type 2 diabetic.FOR REAL??? Nah!! You mean those Krispy Kreme sandwiches ARE NOT healthy?? Thisis not only a big deal for me because I am a type 2 diabetic, but because mymother was too. Diabetes is a huge part of my life, hell, it IS my life. I’mpissed that she waited this long (3 years) to come forward with her disease. Nowsome of you might argue that even though she is a celebrity, she is entitled toher privacy. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK. Had she been promoting a healthy lifestyleand that aforementioned sandwich was on wheat bread, I may not feel the same. Butbecause of the lifestyle and food she was promoting, and (to a point)convincing the rest of the world we are all blue haired aliens who talk likeScarlett and eats only butter, lard and the hearts of little puppies, I’m angrywith her. Don’t even get me started on her drug endorsement…

Now, to theimportant shit I actually wanted to tell you…

After watching mymother lose her battle in 2008 from this disease I hit a point in my life inNovember where I knew I had to make a decision. Am I going to take care ofmyself, like I should, and live a long healthy life? Or am I going to do whatmy mother did and slowly wither away after years of uncontrolled diabetes. Wellthat ain’t gonna fucking happen.

As of December 1^st,I have lost 22lbs. I watch what I eat. I changed medications and I have limitedmy alcohol intake to 2 – 3 days a week. I stopped taking insulin and started anew medication, Byetta, in the beginning of December. I am sure you are all,please Larkin, tell me more!!! Funny you should ask, because I am about to pimpthe shit out of this diabetes drug.

Byetta is notinsulin. If you’d like to read what it REALLY is, you can go here. I am goingto tell you what I understand about it. It was developed from the saliva of theGila Monster. Some awesome scientist somewhere said to themselves, “hmm, theGila only eats once every few months, so surely something makes his food digestslowly and makes it possible that the lizard survives…hmmm…” Because of this, it is sometimes referred to as "Lizard Spit" which I think is just fucking awesome. I inject it twice daily, up to an hour beforeeach meal. The really cool part, it makes my pancreas work. It actually makesmy body produce my own insulin (rather than injecting myself with insulin beforeeach meal, like I did for years). It has aided in me losing weight and willcontinue to do so. The only negative side effect: Nausea and the occasional badheadache. I have projectile vomited several times. But it really takes somegetting used to. And I have had to teach myself what I can and cannot eat onthis drug. I have experienced blood sugar that is a little higher than I wouldlike, but that all seems to be calming down and everything on track.

And on thatnote, I leave you with this… a gift of EPIC proportions, from the awesome Jess.

What did you get from work for Christmas?

2010-12-20T21:15:00.000-05:00

I bet you didn't get Jesus themed generic chocolate candy from a very strange (but very nice...in a very scary overzealous Christianly kind of way) co-worker.....

I DID.

Also, in my little bag-o-goodies was this adorable little jar, complete with a top reading "Pour toi avec amour" (translated "for you with love"). Too bad I don't have that horrible cocaine addiction anymore, this would have been PERFECT for my mirror!

I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I am not. I just like making fun of people who think I am evil because I have tattoos and enjoy drinking adult beverages with gay people with tattoos and I say 'FUCK YOU ASSHAT' a lot.

Happy Holidays!!!!

Oh no she didn't...

2010-12-07T19:18:00.001-05:00

Well, HELLO there! I know it has been a hot minute since I have written but I have good reason. I HAVE A JOB!!! I started back in June, and today makes my 6 month mark with them. I’m at another law firm in Downtown Savannah. Except this time I have an AWESOME view, sadly though, not hot lesbian to take smoke breaks with. On the 13th floor (yes, 13, no, they didn't ‘take out the 13th floor’ as my brother-in-law thought…fucking idiot).

Windows on one side face east, down the Savannah River toward Tybee Island.

And the other windows face south toward Savannah. The bird is my friend Craven (named because Jessica and I couldn’t decide if he was a Crow or a Raven, hence Craven).

In other news…Catie (the sister/cousin) FINALLY got married. They have been together for 8 years and have a beautiful baby girl, Brooklyn (the little milk chocolate bundle of adorableness standing in front of the Bride). And no, we did not kidnap some random young black girl, that is one of the Groom’s nieces. (That's me, just to the right of the Bride, I was the Maid of Honor).

Master Wog and I still going strong. Just celebrated our 7th anniversary last month. AND he got contacts and a NORMAL beard. So handsome.

Last month also marked the 2nd anniversary of my mother’s death. And today would have been her 49th birthday. It has been rough, but I know she is probably dry humping Patrick Swayze right now, so my mind is at ease.

We also lost one of our cats back in July. We had no choice but to put Flea down. But I am positive that Mom is taking care of him (in between Swayze humpings, of course). This is my most favorite picture of Flea, he was sunning in my reading chair.)

Other than all of that, we took in a stray in June. And by stray I mean my forty something unemployed uncle. At first it was lovely, he helps cook and clean, BUT he has a move out deadline of December 30th. We can’t take it anymore. No extra play money, and there is always, ALWAYS a third wheel. How in the hell are Master Wog and I supposed to boink in the living room in front of the fireplace like savages if there is a grown man sitting there watching the National Geographic Channel and insisting that he knows a guy who knew a guy who was in Africa and killed the mother of the elephant that was just on TV with a sling shot from 100 yards away... Right...mmmhmmm...sure...

I sure do miss sharing all of my drunken, stupid, meaningless, idiotic and HI-larious stories with ya'll. My goal is to return like I never left. So, here I am!!!! Now buy me a drink.

TAG!!! I'm it!

2010-05-04T23:15:00.006-04:00

It seems that Jess tagged me.

The Tag? "What have been your fashion faux pas?"

ME?!?! NO!! I have NEVER made a fashion faux pas. Ok, well maybe that one time...

As Jess said, I do enjoy fashion. but not in the crazy skinny model wearing a grizzly bear with a top hat and holding a golf club kinda fashion. I just pay attention to what I am wearing. I like to coordinate. I like to make sure that everything is tucked in and where it needs to be.

I searched through my computer for proof of any fashion fuck up....I found these.

I may have reconsidered this flowery dress, but I have a feeling mom would have bitch slapped me for questioning her floral judgment. For fuck's sake it was 1995.

(I am second row from the bottom, second from the left. Yes, that one.)

And then I found this. If my boob wasn't being attacked, I may have reconsidered this rainbow tube top. But then again, I wore it for the Gay Pride Festival in Savannah.

One thing I will never reconsider wearing is this shirt right here. Just in case you can't read it, It says 'HONORARY LESBIAN'

Yessir.

The Burn: 1 Year Later

2010-04-26T15:21:00.003-04:00

March 27th marked one year since my heating pad tried to kill me.

Some of you may remember this post.

And this one. (Queasy tummies BEWARE, it aint pretty).

Or maybe this one: (Again, BEWARE).

And I think this is the last one I posted of my dear Burney.

The burn healed sometime at the end of July. I then lost my job in August, therefore, fell off the radar.

It has since been a little over a year since my leg healed. Behold, the scar.

A little size comparison for your eyehole.

Now, go sit and think about that. Any why you should never fall asleep drunk with a heating pad on.

Sand in my mouth and sun in my eyes

2010-04-04T23:36:00.003-04:00

But, DAMN! Ya gotta love the beach.

One thing, if anything, I can say that rocks about Savannah is the beach. I have lived here all of my life. Approximately 15 minutes from Tybee Island.

You may have heard of a little movie called The Last Song with the chick that is famous for wearing a blonde wig and is also Billy Ray Cyrus' daughter. It was filmed last summer on Tybee. With all of the cameras and movie stars and groupies that come along with a movie production. Needless to say, Tybee was a little over populated last summer.

Fortunately, there are no movies or teeny bopper stars down there this year. So us locals can enjoy the beach again in all its glory.

I took a little me time a week or so ago. I packed up my lawn chair, some sunblock and a book and drove down to the beach.

It was amazing.

And I have this to prove it.

I could not imagine living in the middle of the country, far away from sand and sun and seagulls. I think I might just take another little trip this week.

Holy shit on a popsicle stick

2010-03-29T08:00:00.000-04:00

I had NO idea that Master Wog (including his recently departed beard) was famous. WOW

Take a peepsy do at this dude. He is the bassist for an AWESOME band by the name of Five Finger Death Punch.

(Yes, that would be the bassist on the far right, yes, that one, the one with the GIGANTANORMOUS beard.)

Now, take a look at my hunnie bunnie hunk of a wonderful piece of love muffin filet mignon goodness...

Is it just me....or do you see something similar here?

For Kat

2010-03-27T02:43:00.005-04:00

Over at 3 Bedroom Bungalow.

This is proof that Kitty wants Jessica....dead or alive.

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And (not so much for Kat, but more for me and my paparazzi like obsession of taking random meaningless pictures of my animals).

THIS is proof that my dogs are FUCKING adorable.

Stick that in your pickle and love on it.

I don't even know where to start...

2010-03-22T19:02:00.004-04:00

I am such a damn slacker. I have had sooooooooooooo many things to write about but just don't get to the computer in time and then I forget my brilliant (and hilarious) topic.

Dammit.

The most recent event was St. Patrick's Day in Savannah with Jess and Co. But you can go here and read about all of our shenanigans.

Although, I did take a few pictures for Captain Dumbass....

If I remember correctly, he kinda has a thing for storm troopers. We were all walking back to the car to refill our beers and I happened across this wonder...

Mad props to whoever did that. I giggled my ass off. Such detail. Such creativity.

I have approximately 267 MORE pictures from the St. Pat's parade and the drunken debauchery that went on late in the evening. But I won't make you look at them.

Other than that, I haven't really been up to much of anything. Still unemployed. Still watching CSI reruns on Spike.

Anywho, I just felt the need to share those few amazing pictures with you. Oh, and this one.

Just to leave you with a wee bit of cuteness for your ass.

Happy Birthday Booboo

2010-02-10T12:36:00.005-05:00

So what, I am like...2...3...5 days late. But WTFever.

Ya'll may remember early last year, this post about my new cousin, Brooklyn.

On February 5, she turned 1. WOW. I cannot believe she is a whole year old.

Her party was this past Saturday. Catie and I decorated. And may I just say that decorating with a one year old is NOT FUCKING FUN. But we did it. And it turned out really great. But, I must share this wee bitty funny with you...

Poor Catie was so stressed, we were behind schedule. Brad (the fiance and father) went to pick up the cakes and food and stuff, so we were left with Brooklyn. We finished with the tables and streamers and everything, then we started blowing up balloons. After about the 40th balloon, Catie starts tying string to them. Then lets it go. She looks at me, positively HORRIFIED and says, "Why are they not staying up?! I need them to stay up!!" I just looked at her, completely speechless. Then her eyes started to tear up a little bit (mind you, she was QUITE stressed about the party) I said, "Caycay, you have to have helium if you want them to 'stay up'." Then I couldn't help it, I burst into laughter and she started laughing. We ended up taping and tying them to the walls. It worked. What can I say.

She will NEVER live that down.

I love you Catie. hehe...

And because I am so proud of how beautiful she is...here are a few more pictures of her...

...Already teaching Daddy how to drive...

...Walking with her Grandpa...

...Learning how to fix a four wheeler...

...And trying to poop.

An Era Has Ended

2010-01-12T15:34:00.004-05:00

Last night, an important being in American history was laid to rest. You all may remember my lovely almost husband, Master Wog.

Don't worry, I didn't kill him. His beard, on the other hand, has gone home to be with tiny baby Jesus Mario.

I tried to see what Kane would look like with a beard.

I almost forgot how handsome he is. When he smiles. I must point out that by this point, he was telling me to stop taking pictures, so he refused to smile. Don't worry, I will be sure to pimp him out as soon as possible.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-12-16T23:32:00.003-05:00

Because it IS still technically Wednesday.

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

2009-12-14T12:50:00.004-05:00

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

2009-12-10T23:00:00.008-05:00

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?

2009-10-08T23:54:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-18T14:33:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-15T17:48:00.002-04:00

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

2009-08-19T01:18:00.000-04:00

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?

2009-08-05T08:55:00.000-04:00

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.

2009-08-03T08:15:00.000-04:00

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

2009-07-29T08:35:00.000-04:00

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

2009-07-28T08:11:00.000-04:00

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.

2009-07-27T09:24:00.010-04:00

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

2009-07-17T10:49:00.002-04:00

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?

2009-07-14T15:00:00.004-04:00

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

2009-07-13T16:06:00.002-04:00

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

2009-07-06T12:53:00.008-04:00

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.

Boredom at its finest

2009-06-24T09:32:00.008-04:00

I was cooking dinner last night and got really bored. I decided to play puppy paparazzi.

Kane, my golden retriever, is the goofiest, sweetest, fetchinest, twitchiest dog I have ever seen in my life. He especially loves twitching on the couch…but last night, he took advantage of our naked bed. You don’t need sound, but if you don’t have it, at the end I ask him what he is doing. He seems to be just as confused as I am.

Turns out, he was letting off some steam. He and Duke had a HUGE argument over the placement of the cat food bowl. After his twitching session, Kane called Duke in for a heart-to-heart. It didn't end well...

Duke did not like what Kane had to say, and made fun of Kane with a traditional tongue sticking out face.

Kane was so upset with Duke's reaction to his opinion, he immediately gathered his closest friends. They went to the couch and held a pre-intervention for Duke for his assholeness.

The moment of truth...THE INTERVENTION...WILL Duke get help? It seems he did not like the idea very much.

Kane is left to wallow in his own misery, wondering what he could have done.

Ultimately, Kane and Duke make up, but only on the grounds that Duke goes to anger management. He lets Duke stay in the house and they live happily ever after.

The End.

Updates and surprise bugs

2009-06-23T08:50:00.006-04:00

My leg is doing MUCH better. Burney is on his way to completely healing now. We still have quite a way to go, but I am getting there, slowly but surely.

But now…I have some strange rash popping up all over me. On the top for my forearms and outside elbows, on my feet and legs and in between the girls (which I am pretty sure is an unrelated heat rash (hopefully)). It itches like crazy!! My whole right leg (the burnt, pathetic one) from my knee to my foot has a pretty gnarly heat rash from the Unna boot being on there during these crazy humid hot Savannah Paula Deen's hair summer days.

This SO doesn’t do it justice.

And, I have downsized bandage size DRAMATICALLY. I can wear a smaller bandage now, to just cover the wound. If only I could get this rash to go way...I would almost look normal!

The good news, the wound looks great…the bad news, my leg looks terrible and my elbows and boobs itch.

Fuck.

Me.

Runnin’.

But first, peep Burney and his new skin. Woo to the Hoo!!!!

(I even did a not-so-close up for you squeamish folks out there.)

In other news, Master Wog and I let the dogs out last night, and Duke brought me a roly-poly. In his mouth. And dropped it at the foot of the bed and he and Kane started playing with it. Luckily, no roly-polies were hurt in the making of this blog. But, in my research this morning, I learned that they are in the Woodlice family. Which means nothing more than they eat decaying wood, plant matter and poop.

This is our typical, good ole Southern roly-poly (left) and his bigger, kinda scary cousin (center).

Master Wog looked at Duke and said "Seriously?!" He brought the critter outside and let him go free with his other poop eating friends.

The End.

An extra critter for the weekend

2009-06-19T10:48:00.008-04:00

This is Midnight.

She belongs to a friend of Master Wog's and we are dog sitting her this weekend.

Now, I'm not sure if I have mentioned my animals in my blog before or not...heh...but we have 7. Yes. SEVEN. My dogs themselves equally approximately 235lbs. Midnight weights about 5lbs.

I was so concerned that Duke was going to step on her, or try to squeak her like a toy...when she got to our house last night, I was speechless. She literally ran circles around the dogs.

Roxy thinks she is evil. Duke wants nothing to do with her, Kane on the other hand, thinks that she is his own personal living toy.

They kept each other busy, running around the house, chasing each other.

Then Midnight met our cats (which, by the way, all 3 of the cats are MUCH larger then her). That did not work so well. They didn't know what to think. The cats get along with our dogs fine, they even play with each other...but this little mini dog? Hell to the nah.

Flea and Sid chased her around the house, hissing as they went. I think that Kitty (the fat one) just wanted to eat her.

After all was calm...she jumped on Wog's shoulder and tried to eat his beard.

She looks a lot like a vampire bat in this picture, doesn't she?

All in all, she is quite adorable, BUT I prefer my big, slow, stupid dogs over little, fast, adorable, whiny ones ANY DAY.

Burn Update: Day 81

2009-06-17T14:30:00.006-04:00

But first... at little bit of cuteness. My Dukey.

Note: his feet are tangled. Who knew a 95lb dog could curl into a 10lb ball?

I told myself I wasn't going to put anymore burn pictures up as I didn't want to scare anyone off...but then I realized that there are a shitton people who are strange like me and fascinated with things like my burn. They also watch A LOT of Discovery Channel, TLC, Science Channel and National Geographic Channel (Shout out to my boy Caesar Millan!)

So here he is. Burney in all his glory.

Burney is finally starting to heal properly. My skin is now 'crawling' (as they say at Wound Care) over the wound. The periwound is still pretty red and irritated, but the wound itself is healing and that is what matters.

Oh, and I am still walking around half mummified. They have to put me in an Unna's Boot to promote healing, and calm some of the irritation.

Plus I look totally sexy walking around like this.

Can you even dye my leg to match my gown? Jolly good time!!

You forgot to flush

2009-06-16T11:15:00.002-04:00

Master Wog and I bought this.

The Litter Kwitter.

It is supposed to aid us stupid humans in toilet training our cats...and by toilet, I mean toilet. It uses a combination of several different types of rings to get your cat to get comfortable enough on the toilet to actually use it.

If you care to, you can go here to learn more. Even if you don't want to learn more, I highly suggest going to this site for just a moment to see the video (at top left) of all the different cats on the toilet. I have watched it over and over again and I still giggle. WHAT?! Its funny!

I HATE cleaning the litter box. I 'forget' to do it until it starts to stink, then I am cussing at the cats for pooping in a box. (Not right, I know) And with three cats, it gets pretty nasty. So, Wog and I figured we would try this. what is the worst that would happen? It doesn't work and we are back to litter boxes and out of $30.00?. But, what if it works? What if I am able to get all three of my cats to poop and pee in the toilet.

O.

M.

G.

How awesome would that be?!

So far, we are on step 1: getting the cats used to the ring overall. It is on the floor next to the toilet. All three have been using it and haven't seemed to have a problem with it. Although, Flea was a little skeptical at first...but he is the litter thrower of the bunch. He prefers play over poop.

Tonight, I hope to move to step 2: moving the ring to the toilet.

Now, if only they made something to train the dogs to cook dinner...

Greetings from the inside

2009-06-10T09:52:00.004-04:00

This is Sidious, Sid, for short.

He is Syber Kitty's brother. Since sweet little Syber Kitty went to hang out with my mom for eternity, Sid HAS NOT stopped following me. I always knew that dogs have a higher sense of emotion, or sensing it in the least, but it seems Sid does too.

I came home yesterday from picking my car up from the shop (after spending almost $300 to fix the stupid AC, it is now blowing at 44 degrees. Woo to the hoo!)I pull up and see his little face sitting there, staring, almost as if he was waiting for me to get home. He rarely sits up in this particular window and has never been there when I have gotten home.

Needless to say, my night started out great. Knowing Sid's crazy little ass loves me (or at least he is good at pretending). But then.....

I washed the sheets, put the new fresh clean sheets on the bed, make the bed (VERY RARE), Dogs come inside...I smell it. You know smell, anyone who has ever owned a dog knows this fucking smell. SHIT. One of the dogs either, a) pooped in the house, or b)tracked it in from the backyard.

It was b). Duke had stepped in Kane's shit (and how I know it was Kane's shit I have no idea) in the backyard and tracked it ALL OVER the house, AND the new fresh clean comforter. DEATH! No, not really, it wasn't his fault. Plus he was giving me this face...

I then cleaned the hardwood floors with Lysol plus Bleach, cleaned his foot with warm water and a wee bit of Dial, changed comforters and went to sleepy sleep.

Now to see what today brings at Wound Care. I'm off to see the wizard!

Rainbows, conjugal visits, obese cats and motorized wheelchairs

2009-06-09T10:40:00.005-04:00

I had quite a long day yesterday. My car is in the shop, so I had to take Master Wog to work somewhere out in the middle of nowhere at 5:30am. Actually it was at the intersection of I-95 and Highway 204, 2 major roadways down here in the SAV. But I am a turd, and I have horrible sense of direction.

Anyway…

I picked him up after work and we make it home last night at around 7:30ish. I get this weird second wind and decide I am finally going to move the cat boxes from the second bedroom into the bathroom, and/or somewhere else in the house. I always ‘forget’ to clean them and I ‘remember’ when our house starts to smell like a stripper cat’s hairy unwashed bum. I figure if they are somewhere where I have to constantly see them, I will be more inclined to keep them clean and smelling powder fresh.

We have 2 cat boxes, one old and one relatively new. I tossed the old one and bought a new matching box. (My cats be stylin’ like dat) I put one in the tiny ass front bathroom and one hidden under a table near the living room. Hopefully this will work, if not, Kane and Roxy will have tummies full of cat turds and my house won’t stink anymore. So, we shall see.

Kitty is fat. See?

Flea is in Kitty Lock-up and Sid is there for a conjugal visit, see?

I saw a rainbow yesterday. The first time since mom passed away. It kind of made my day. See? (sort of?…look harder, lean to the left and squint a bit, you can see it.)

Oh, and my dogs are artistic. See?

And, Kane is happy with eating cat shit, Duke is not, and Roxy is undecided. See?

I also had a really interesting dream last night. I lived with Jess and Krystal and all we did all day is try on dresses…weird. OH! And there was this old lady in a motorized wheelchair that didn’t like us, she would throw condoms on our porch as she zoomed passed us. Too bad I don’t have any pictures of that.

I am by no means a religious person...

2009-06-03T14:17:00.004-04:00

But I do believe there are places to be classified as Heaven and Hell. Maybe not so much like, angels and harps and shit...but definitely a place that makes you truly happy. Your Hell would be the complete opposite, complete and utter despair, for eternity. I personally like the Pastafarians version of Heaven and Hell...

The Pastafarian belief of heaven stresses that it contains a beer volcano and a stripper factory. Hell is similar, except that the beer is stale, and the strippers have STDs.

Thank you Wikipedia.

One thing I do not doubt is a certain unbreakable bond between two people. Some may call them soul mates, maybe it is your mother, or a sibling, or maybe it's just a really great friendship. Who knows, not I.

My favorite book is "What Dreams May Come" by Richard Matheson. I've read this book over ten times and seen the movie...like, a lot. I watched it a month or so ago with Master Wog but this time, it was…different. It's not like I don't know what's going to happen. I can practically recite the damn movie. But it made my little mind wander and I couldn't sleep. For those of you who have not seen it, here is a short synopsis---

---Man and woman fall in love, have kids…raise kids…blah blah…kids die in car wreck, wife attempts suicide, loses her mind, husband sticks around tries to help her, can't take it anymore, wife decides it's time to get better, happy happy blah blah…husband dies in car wreck, goes to heaven, wife then succeeds at suicide and goes to hell…fast forward…man finds out wife will stay in hell as all suicides do, says fuck that and literally goes through hell to find his wife and soul mate. On the way he finds both his son and daughter and his mentor and the dog (of course)---

Now my little description has nothing on the movie but you get the picture. What the hell was I talking about…oh, what got to me was the love, and I know it's just a love story, but the fact that this man was willing to give up after-life in heaven with his wife, children (and his dog) to go THROUGH hell to bring his wife back. That's fucking love man. (By the way…the wife is an artist and runs her own art gallery...and his heaven is made of her paintings, like, living paintings, it is pretty bomb diggity) The way each part of hell is portrayed reminds me of "The Devine Comedy" (I am almost positive they based this part of the movie on it) of which I have read Dante's 'Inferno'. Each step holds a different sin. For which every sin has its own punishment. But that's beside the point. The story just touches me. It makes me want to be loved like that. For someone to care so much they would go through hell to have me. I think I am, but you don't really know until you're faced with it.

So, anyway, we fell asleep that night all cuddling and shit. I just kept thinking about how much I want to choke him sometimes, or cut off his...well, you know where I was going with that one, but I truly love him. He is my life (and the dogs...and cats...Redbird, not so much). It's a balance thing. I love him with all my heart and I truly believe I would do anything for him. Die for him? I don't know. Even though we fight, or bicker, or I grab his beard and punch him in the face. Those things make me love him more. The little things he does that drive me crazy make me love him. They make me happy. The make me, me. I almost feel I wouldn't be me without him.

Life can be one crazy, fucked up trip. And there are so many things to do, in such a short amount of time. 'Moulin Rouge' (one of my other favorite movies) said it best—"The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return."

My mother also taught me that no matter what, love your life and smile. It will brighten your day and make you feel better, not to mention how many people will smile back. YOU make THEM smile.

So, smile damnit. I said so!

Burn Update: Day 66

2009-06-02T10:03:00.004-04:00

Just a quick update to let you know my leg hasn't fallen off. It is however, infected again. But not that oozing, smelly infection, just a normal itch-like-a-mofo infection. I am (still) on antibiotics and it is healing up slowly, but surely.

Because I love Wikipedia, I will share with you the type of cootie (bacteria) I have:

Enterococcus is a genus of lactic acid bacteria of the phylum Firmicutes. Members of this genus were classified as Group D Streptococcus until 1984 when genomic DNA analysis indicated that a separate genus classification would be appropriate.[1]

Enterococci are Gram-positive cocci that often occur in pairs (diplococci) or short chains and are difficult to distinguish from Streptococci on physical characteristics alone. Two species are common commensal organisms in the intestines of humans: E. faecalis (90-95%) and E. faecium (5-10%). Enterococci are facultative anaerobic organisms, i.e., they do not require oxygen for metabolism, but can survive in oxygen-rich enviornments.[2] They typically exhibit gamma-hemolysis on sheep's blood agar. There are rare clusters of infections with other species: E. casseliflavus, E. raffinosus.

Basically, what that is saying, is that I have strep throat with a side of butt in my leg. Now don't worry, I didn't like wash my leg in toilet water or anything. Nor is it from not washing my hands (I am a total hand washing freak, I cannot stand for my hands to be dirty, even after smoking a cigarette my habit is to wash my hands.) Enterococci are natural occuring organisms in the body. And sometimes, they get pissed off and try to eat your skin, as in my case.

The good news is that the medicine I am on will clear the infection right up, and I can be on the way to making new skin (or granulation, as we refer to it at Wound Care)

And now, what you all have been waiting on, I'm sure......

Burney: Day 66

You can see how much it has healed, on the top and bottom especially.The ookey white bit in the middle is dead tissue that popped back up (after this picture was taken, the nurse numbed it up and cut it off). May I just say, I especially love how you can see my tattoo in the background. Nice.

It is about damn time

2009-05-28T13:36:00.000-04:00

Mother's Day this year was tough. But I made it through! I've finally gotten to the point where I am ok to talk about it, but more importantly, I want to show ya'll what I made (Mama Dawg, be proud!) (please?).

This was the first Mother's Day without my mom. Granted, I have been through Thanksgiving, Christmas, her birthday, my birthday, my anniversary and my parent's anniversary, but it was Mother's Day...so, yeah, tough.

Every year I would make her something, write her something or at the very least break down and get her a sappy ass card (which she loved). I figured it wouldn't do much good to actually have bought something for her...I can just see her with her ethereal cane in one hand and a Bud Light in the other saying "I'm up HERE, Dumbass!"

Anywho...

I made this.

Back in February, I wrote this and in it was the Eulogy I wrote for my mom. At the end, I refer to her as a big bright star. When I saw this pendant (a shooting star), I immediately thought of her. She is my star. And, to this day, every night I walk outside and I see a star shining, twinkling down on me, I think of mom.

She'd be proud. I am.

Plus I look quite cute wearing the set and it coordinates with most of my outfits perfectly. Hehe...

And it compliments my make believe cleavage nicely...

Maybe tomorrow I will have my shit together long enough to take a few pics of the other jewelry I have made. Thanks to Mama Dawg for the inspiration!! I love the idea of creating something that I can enjoy, as well as other people.

Now, if I could only figure out how to sell them...

Big Red strikes again

2009-05-27T10:25:00.008-04:00

Here is more proof.

Proof that this little son of a bitch is more intelligent than I could have ever imagined. He made a bed. Yes, a bed. To sleep on.

See?

I was in the kitchen cooking last night and glanced over at Redbird in the dining room, he had the can on his head again. I was thinking to myself, "Awesome! I can get another picture to show everyone that I didn't just throw the can on his head and take a picture!" I went to grab my camera, got back to his cage and realized the little fucker had pulled the sheet (that covers the back and sides of his cage so he doesn't shit all over the hardwood floors) inside of the cage just enough to make himself a comfortable little birdy bed.

After rudely waking him up, and him being VERY upset with me, he was ready for his close up.

He is an EVIL little shithead, but I'll be damned if he ain't purdy.

Time to give thanks...

2009-05-26T09:24:00.006-04:00

First, foremost and sincerely, thanks to Kat for this loverly award!!

"These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers."

Being that I am just a wee bitty baby blogger in this huge awesomeness that is Blogdom, I sincerely appreciate this acknowledgement. It means a lot, Kat, thank you. I cannot wait to meet you next time you swing over this way, and by this way, I mean this country. You better be ready for some home cookin', karaoke, and some kisses from a GINORMOUS cat....and several critters of the furred kind.

Thanks again, Kat. It means more than you know.

Secondly, thanks to Kane,

For scavenging through the bathroom trash and scattering it ALL OVER the house. If it weren't for you eating it, I would have never found the tape (for my burn bandage) that I searched for all weekend but couldn't find. Turns out that I had accidentally thrown the other roll away. Now, after I bought more tape, I have a backup roll, so thanks Kane, I guess.

Lastly, thanks to the tree cutter down dudes who were cutting down a tree RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW and woke me up 15 minutes before I needed to be up. But, if you wouldn't have woken me up early, I would have been late for work anyway, so thanks, Fuckers.

I have stained my temple

2009-05-22T11:07:00.006-04:00

I did it!!! Take a peep.

This is on the inside of my left leg. It is a twist on the Celtic symbol for sisterhood. It represents two women, sisters, being separate beings but are forever intertwined.

And........

This is the smiley face on my left wrist. For mom.

I am very proud of myself for finally doing it.

This is Catie's. I was glad to have experienced this with her. I know she is the one constant in my life and the only one who will love me no matter what. This just helps me to remember that.

I would also like to give a hughgiganticnormous hug and thanks to Jess, Krystal and Andy for hanging out with me the whole time. Jess, you have no idea how much I love you. Thank you twat swatter.

PROOF

2009-05-21T11:29:00.004-04:00

That I am not as crazy as I usually sound.

Meet Redbird.

Meet Redbird sleeping with his best friend, Can, on his head.

You can't make this shit up. Every time Master Wog or myself try to take the can out of his cage, he goes absofuckinlutely nuts. I think this can in particular is about 4 years old. He really, truly, loves his can. He feeds it, plays with it, talks to it and best of all, sleeps with it on his head.

SO, I just let him have it. A happy Redbird, is a happy Larkin

'Nuff said.

Doin' it and doin' it and doin' it...well, finally

2009-05-20T14:34:00.003-04:00

I’m finally doing it. I’m going to get my first tattoo tomorrow. Actually, my first two tattoos.

Catie (the cousin/sister/best friend/mother of Brooklyn) and I are getting matching Celtic Sisterhood symbols. Mine will be monochromatic black and gray. Hers will be all bright and stuff. This is what the Tattoo artist is going by.

I am also getting a smiley face on my left wrist. Why a smiley face? Glad you asked. For mom. She always signed her name with a smiley face. Whether it was a note in my lunch box at school, a birthday card, or just a ‘have a good day’ note. She loved smiley faces. I thought, what better way for me to never forget her than to put a simple, small smiley face on my wrist.

Wish me luck.

P.S. Jess will be there through the entire thing, I'm sure she will have awesome commentary about how much of a wussy I am. Gotta love her.

Michelangelo...as in Michelob

2009-05-18T14:46:00.004-04:00

I was tagged by Jess to do this, so here I go…

What are your current obsessions?
Making jewelry planting a tree and original Skittles. I am also a huge local news junkie. Not so much national news. And E! News. Fortunately the local news comes on at 6 and E! News comes on at 7. They like me so they work around my schedule.

Which item from your wardrobe do you wear the most often?
My black cardigan(s). I have at least 3. During the winter it would be my knee high boots. I wear them everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

What’s for dinner?
Tonight, we are having baked turkey tenderloins with an Italian marinade, sour cream and chive mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese and corn. And brownies for dessert.

What is your greatest fear at the moment?
I don’t really know…I faced my biggest fear last year, when I lost my mother…now that I have been through and am dealing with that….I don’t really let anything scare me. Except roaches. Those motherfuckers are evil.

What are you listening to?
My boss hum to herself.

What are your favorite holiday spots?
My house. I have never really traveled. I am a stay at home kind of chick.

What are you reading right now?
I am reading a book about how to run a marathon. It is quite interesting and uberinspiring.

What is your guilty pleasure?
Skittles. I. AM. OBSESSED.

Who or what makes you laugh?
Oh dear…so many things. My friends, Jess mainly, can always make me giggle til I almost pee myself. My dogs, even when they eat my Oreos. And my cats, because they are just insane and high on Catnip most of the time. Oh yeah, and Master Wog.

What is your favorite Spring thing to do?
Stay inside in the AC (Evil, EVIL sun). Or plant stuff in my make-believe garden in the back yard. (it is make believe because everything I put in the ground dies.)

Where are you planning to travel next?
Good question. We don’t travel much but I would love to go back to DC to the Smithsonian.

What is the best thing you ate or drank lately?
I made some turkey tacos last night that were off the chain!

When was the last time you were tipsy?
Last week sometime. I know, a tragedy.

What is your favorite ever film?
My Fair Lady, What Dreams May Come and The Lion King. Hakuna Matata, bitches!!

What is the biggest life lesson you’ve learned from your kids?
I do not have children so I will tell you what I have learned from my dogs. Love unconditionally, share with your friends and don’t eat your poop. There you have it.

What book do you know you should read but refuse to?
The Good Earth. I know I should read it…but I got about ten pages in and it bored the shit out of me. I would totally have said the Bible, except I already read the damned thing.

What is your physical abnormality/abnormal physical ability?
That burn thing on my leg. Look it's pretty, and looks like the surface of Mars now.

And I can ‘pop’ nearly every join on my body.

What is your favorite color?
I like purple, but black and red beat up Tinky Winky and stole his lunch money.

Can the people outside your car hear the music playing inside your car?
Usually I try to turn it down when I am coming to a stop. But if I am riding….I blast it. And sing til my little heart is content.

In a perfect world, how many hours sleep would you get per night?
At least 14. Sleeping is what I am best at. Usually on Sunday I don’t move from the bed unless I have to pee. And sometimes I don’t even do that.

I pass this on to Mama Dawg! And I second Jess' tagging Mitzy. Do it now!

Burn Update: Day 49

2009-05-13T10:52:00.009-04:00

Because I am on this let's-name-EVERYTHING kick, my burn will now be called Burney, I am so clever.

It is still there, and now hurts more than ever. Turns out in order for Burney to heal properly, it has to stay moist. (I know, we all grew up hearing, "it needs to breathe or it won't heal!" well, shove it, Grandma.) I have learned that when it dries out, it HURTS. And whatever is immediately over the wound will dry as well and stick to it. I have never known pain like that. Fucking. Ow.

This is no scab or paper cut, this is FRESH FLESH with no protection. Just to clarify.

The other night Burney woke me up at around 3am, I got up to see what it was screaming about, it had dried out and the gauze was now hard and almost crunchy and stuck in the wound. I left it alone and tried my best to get back to sleepy beddy bye. Got up around 8 to shower and get ready for work. All the while, Burney is throbbing and screaming at me to let him out. He had decided he was hot, and STRIPPED while I was asleep. the entire part that was covering him slid down PAST the wound and the outer gauze was now stuck in him. W. T. F. Burney?

I got it wet enough to get it unstuck, but all day yesterday the pain was almost excruciating.

Like, for real.

I went to Wound Care today and they are very pleased with the progress Burney has made over the last week or so. Most of the dead tissue is gone although there is a bit left on there. I may not have to do Maggot Therapy (uberbummer). But Burney has gotten smaller and is healing and that is what matters.

SO, my leg has not fallen off. Just thought you should know.

I took this the other day,

I thought it strangely resembled this weird looking thing...

I shall call him...Squishy

2009-05-12T16:06:00.004-04:00

UPDATE: As of yesterday when I left work, Squishy was safely tucked away in an Azealea bush. Mom and Daddy Cardinal were still scolding him, and, best of all, I think I heard them say he could keep his XBOX!!

For the love of baby birds!!!

I found this little guy outside of our office. He is a baby Cardinal and I will call him Squishy. And me, being the Animal Rescuer I am, decided to take control of the situation....and by take control I mean stand over him and speak in baby bird....and by baby bird, I mean saying "Hey wittle birdie, did you wose your wittle way?"

I run back upstairs, call about 10 different vets here in Savannah to see if they would take him. No. None of the fuckers would. What am I supposed to do, bring the little shit home with me for my 7 animals to fight over?

No. There will be no Squishy for din-din.

I finally get a 'Wildlife Expert' on the phone who says to place him in a bush (haha...I said bush) and let mom and dad Cardinal feed him, scold him, and eventually take away his XBOX 360 for staying out too late, and to let nature take his course. So...

I go back downstairs to break it to the Squishy that he is just going to have to deal with it and that parents are just uncool sometimes. Eventually they will understand that he is a teenager and he is learning to find his way.

He is gone. AWESOME! Thanks Mom! Good lookin' out for the little bird. I even triple checked underneath the 2 cars that were out there.

He.

Was.

Gone.

I take a smoke break and discuss the American Idol semi-finale tonight with a couple of the girls here, turn to go back upstairs, Squishy is back. WTF. Dude, seriously? GO HOME. So now, I am back to putting him in a bush (hehe), and letting nature take it's course. His parents are still in the area, watching over him and hopefully feeding him so I think he will be ok.

By the way, you know that whole don't touch a baby bird because the parents will smell human on them and not accept them back into the nest?....Yeah, MYTH. Most birds can't smell. Weird.

By the way, again, I just finished typing this post and went out to go take a picture of Squishy and his momma was out there. She was all, "OH hell to the nah bitch, you best be leaving my baby alone!" Hopefully he will get his shit together and go home. Like a good little teenage Cardinal named Squishy should.

Woodrow Willow Woodpeckerson, III

2009-05-05T13:16:00.008-04:00

Meet Woody.

He is my buddy. He and his family live in a tree right outside of our office, adjacent to our smoke-break table. We go out to smoke and he flies to the tree and starts chirping and hollering, almost saying, "what's up homies!!!" The past few days, I have noticed a strange new black bird hanging out near his home.

This is him.

Curious, I researched the two different species.

Woodrow, or Woody, as we lovingly refer to him, is a Red Bellied Woodpecker. The black fucker is an European Starling. He is evil, because I said so. In my research I discovered that the Starling, or Fuckhead, as I will now refer to him, is a very aggressive bird and will almost always steal a Red Belly's nest.

Then I realized, this SOB is trying to evict my Woody! WTF?! Hell to the Nah.

I go outside a few minutes later to find the two birds in a fierce battle for territory. (OK, it wasn't really 'fierce' per say, it was more like the Fuckhead looking down at Woody going "Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, you can't beat me.") That is when my craziness kicked in....I started yelling and throwing stuff at Fuckhead. Yeah, I know, weird. But that Mofo is lucky I didn't call the damn cops.

Fuckhead flies away, and then Woody hops down to a lower part of the tree and calls out to me like, "thanks". Like I said, he is my friend.

I saved his ass this time by throwing dirt and mulch and yelling. Next time, I am bringing my imaginary BB gun and pegging his ass.

In the meantime, I did manage to catch a few nice pics of Woody and his house. Enjoy.

Because I STILL know NO ONE is sick of my burn yet...

2009-05-04T13:54:00.003-04:00

Well, the good news is that it is healing. The bad news is that I developed a strange rash directly behind the wound on the back of my leg over the weekend. So far, the rash is not Cellulitis, like I feared. It is just a rash from an allergic reaction I had with the dressings they were using. So, now, they can't tape the bandage on, they have to do this...

Yeah, overkill, I know. But at least it is healing.

I guess now when I hop out of my car (that belonged to my mother, that STILL has her handicap tag on it) I kind of look like it is for me.

But don't worry, I do not illegally park in handicapped parking places.

Unless it is 2am.

And Jessica is with me.

And we are going to a bar.

I only did it once!! I swear!!!

Bye ya'll.

Because I know NO ONE is sick of my burn yet...

2009-04-30T15:39:00.007-04:00

Burn update, Day 31:

FUCKING OW ALREADY. It is now infected, and as it turns out, I was allergic to whatever gauze thing they were using. So, behold the glory of my leg.

I even took this one to show the size of this damned thing in comparison to my leg.

Ya'll keep your fingers crossed for me that it heals ok, because NOW I'm worried.

Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

2009-04-27T10:33:00.008-04:00

Well, I don't know where she is, but i do know where I am not.

Howdy ho neighbors. The last week has been quite interesting. As I said Friday, Jess and I no longer share an office, BUT, I can see her from my new office…

See that pasty white head in the middle. That would be the Awesome Jess, and the view from my desk. (The window to the right of her was at my old desk.) I really don't like being over here by myself. Thankfully she and I still have Yahoo messenger. And we are in the works to have a zip line installed between our offices. Word.

In other news, I have been going to the Wound Care Center 3x a week to have my burn trimmed up all fancy like. I'm sure, if you love me at all, you remember the BRIGHT RED pic I put up a while ago, well, this is what it looks like now...

And because this one is just so damn pretty, this is what it looked like BEFORE they cut off the dead tissue. You should have seen the girls in the doctor's office, they thought the fact that I wanted to 'document' my wound for my blog was amazing.

I thought the color combination was off the chain. Other than having my leg cut open every other day, and missing my Lesbian, I am just dandy.

And since I have now emblazoned your mind with yucky burn pictures, I will leave you with some puppy love. Tootles for now.

I Am Making Something Up

2009-04-24T16:59:00.000-04:00

I didn’t get eaten alive by my ginormaous cat, nor was I abducted by aliens…unless, you count a different boss as an alien.

Last Monday, I was abruptly moved from my cozy, lesbian infected office, out to the carriage house, AKA, The Princess Suite. In stead of working for a guitar playing, beer drinking, insulin shooting, dog loving attorney, (yes, he and I got along fantastically!!). I now work for two (yes, 2) beer drinking, dog loving female attorneys.

May I just say that I am flattered that they didn’t just kick me to the curb. Thank you, thank you very much.

ANywho, I just wanted to let ya’ll know I am, in fact, still alive. I’ll be back Monday with updated burn pictures. (C’mon, you know you want to jump up and down and squeal with excitement.) Tootles my loves!

For the love of Electronic Stimulation Therapy!

2009-04-16T16:14:00.000-04:00

I go tomorrow to a wound care clinic here in Savannah for debridement of my burn. Yay. Apparently, things have changed and they don’t necessarily have to cut me. They use ‘agents’ to ‘chemically’ debride the wound. And Electronic Stimulation Therapy, which just sounds cool.

I am not exactly excited about this here procedure, seeing as it is UBER expensive and not covered by insurance (it is out-of-network). But the girl I talked to was very kind and said that they will work with me to get me healed.

Ya’ll wish me luck. Hopefully it won’t be nearly as bad as I am thinking it will be. I remember going with Mom to have her wounds debrided and it was not pleasant.
Maybe they will serve Morphine and Bud Light for lunch

This, kids, is why you should never make your heating pad mad

2009-04-13T11:39:00.005-04:00

I felt I should give you guys an update on the ~~skin eating alien life form growing of my leg~~ burn I got a couple weeks ago from my homicidal heating pad.

Day 16:

Does it look like it hurts? YES. IT DOES.

I have kept it covered with antibiotic cream on it since I got it. I made the mistake of putting one of those cool “protects the skin while letting the wound breathe” clear bandages on it. I took it off last night and it seemed to rip off the outermost layer of NEW skin. Yeah. I know, I’m a Dumbass.

I think I’ll stick to good ole sterile gauze and tape.

I do need help though. I am not sure if I should leave it uncovered so that air can get to it. I know that it needs air to heal, but I am afraid of little germs and aliens getting it infected. And that whole “I’m a Diabetic”, thing… as long as my leg doesn’t turn black and fall off, I’m cool.

In other news.

Master Wog and I went out to dinner with a friend of his and his wife. Met them once before, got along well. Turns out the guy is pretty cool good ole country boy, likes his beer and steak. The wife, on the other hand, the biggest racist bigot I have ever met in my entire life. She had me so flustered and embarrassed at dinner, I wanted to get up and run out of there as fast as I could.

I refuse to discuss some of the fucking things she was saying. Just because you are an ignorant piece of shit, doesn’t mean that I share those feelings. And I damn sure don’t appreciate you discussing how much you hate every person who doesn’t look exactly like you. You poodle haired, redneck, ignorant, piece of trash. My dogs are smarted than you, and they lick their own asses.

Not only am I from Savannah and NOT a racist, my new cousin, Brooklyn is half black. And, Catie and her BLACK boyfriend have been together for almost 7 years. And I LOVE him, like he was my own brother. I wanted to start going through my camera and showing her pictures of the baby and telling her how beautiful Brooklyn is. Then I wanted to punch the shit out of her. So, I quietly sat there, finished off a couple more pina coladas, and left.

When Wog and I got to the car, I looked at him and said, “baby, that will never fucking happen again. I refuse to go anywhere with her.”

She made me sick. Stupid bitch.

I told Jess that I wish she would have been there. She could have set her straight and I could have been the muscle. When things got out of hand, I would have rubbed my burn on her and told her she was infected with Alien Jizz.

Take that.

I need a hobby

2009-04-07T14:12:00.008-04:00

Aside from strip clubs and beer. When I was in high school, I drew a lot, wrote a lot of poems and stories, and shit like that. But for some reason, I stopped suddenly a few years ago.

I have gotten to a point now where I REALLY need something to keep me occupied.

I can’t sit still long enough to read a book, I fall asleep. I try to write, but it all sounds childish. I tried to draw, but my dog eats my sketchbook.

I looked into making jewelry. A good friend of mine, Ivy, does it on a regular basis. She and I were at Wal-Mart and I came across the jewelry making stuff isle and went nuts. I though it was the coolest thing ever. I just don’t know if I will be able to occupy my mind long enough to make something worth wearing, or even selling.

Maybe I should just stick to strip clubs and beer.

These are the only three drawings I have been able to keep in frames and taken care of. The tiger is my favorite.

*Note: the Rose has no thorns on purpose, silly.*

Oh, and this one is for Mama Dawg. This is my mini book wall I told you about.

Smells like.....teen spirit?

2009-04-02T10:18:00.000-04:00

I figure I'd give all of you lovely folks a break from my Blister Burn Bonanza 2009....so...I shall discuss something else. Like confessing that I am a whore.

I admit it, I am a fragrance junkie. Perfume whore. Body spray slut. What ever you would like to call it. But I have found a smell that suits me well, and I dig the message.

It is by Philosophy and called 'Falling in Love'. All Philosophy products have some type of definition, or philosophy, of the name of the product. This description for Falling in Love has always touched that little mushy spot somewhere deep inside my big little heart.

Philosophy: When it comes to love you need not fall but rather surrender. Surrender to the idea that you must love yourself before you can love another. You must absolutely trust yourself before you can absolutely trust another and most importantly you must accept your flaws before you can accept the flaws of another.

Kind of puts it in perspective, huh?

I like this one too, another fragrance called 'Amazing Grace'. This is the philosophy for it.

Philosophy: How you climb up the mountain is just as important as how you get down the mountain. In the end, it all comes down to one word. Grace.

Grace? Ha. Me, not so much. I was attacked by a homicidal heating pad for fuck's sake. I have no grace. But I like the thought.

Now thats what I call a blister popping good time!

2009-04-01T12:18:00.000-04:00

So...

Jess came over last night for our usual American Idol/Beer drinking date night. After our first…8 beers or so, we decided to “pop” my uberblister. Sad thing is, right as we got ready for the main event, my camera died. But the video is entertaining nonetheless. And by video, I mean the massive blister on my leg. Plus, all three of my dogs were helping. And they are awesome helpers! (Listen out for Duke’s burp. Hehe)

At one point during the popping session, I though Jess was going to yank the needle out of my hand and start stabbing the shit out of the uberblister. She was extremely interested in the massive volume of this thing on my leg. Needless to say, she kept me motivated.

And for any of you who care about me, don’t worry, I used a sterilized needle and alcohol swabs, then bandaged it up with antibiotic ointment and a sterile bandage. I got this wound shit on lock down. Word.

This is what happened before the uberblister popping session. Behold, Jessica torturing my sweet Kane and then getting her spot in the bed taken by Duke. Enjoy.

Awards!!!

2009-03-31T14:25:00.000-04:00

I got stuff!!!! I love stuff. And Kat, I’m sorry about forgetting about the award you gave me. See, the thing is, I am still relatively new to this here blogdom and I have to ask Jess what to do with things sometimes. In which she tells me, “follow the rules, tard.” So…..Thanks to Kat at 3 Bedroom Bungalow for this funktastic Kreativ Blogger award!

And to Beavertwat Cootermonger—I mean Jess, at This Life is Mine, for this Dope Blog award.

Thank you to both of these lovely ladies. Now on to these rules.

For the Kreativ Blogger award there are two rules, list 6 Things that Make me Happy and tagging 6 Bloggers. I can totally do this!!

Ok, 6 things that make me happy...I guess I can’t name all 6 of my dogs and cats, huh? That would be totally unfair to Redbird. He would be left out. So…

1. My dogs.
2. My cats.
3. Master Wog.
4. NOT doing laundry.
5. Duct Tape.
6. Gardenias.

Yes, I am that simple. (Usually.)

And, 6 bloggers…ok, well, ummm….being that I am still a baby blogger, I will only do….1. OK, Ok, 2.
(As Jess just informed me that nothing happens if I break the rules, so now that I don’t have to worry about the sneaky PC ninja jumping out and popping my blister, here I go)

1. Ivy at This Is Ivy…Naked because it took me a month of fussing at her to write again, and it worked! And I lurve her.
2. Kris Posman at Weather She Wrote, because she is the local Meteorologist, she has no idea I exist and she is hot. Don’t be jealous because MY weatherwoman has a blog and YOURS doesn’t.

And Jess told me I could.

Thanks again gals!!

Come on baby light my fire

2009-03-30T11:17:00.000-04:00

I think I am accidentally trying to maim myself. I have been un intentionally beating the shit out of myself over the last week. It all started last Thursday.

I had gotten home from work and my dogs had decided to eat Italian for dinner. The somehow managed to get the bottle of garlic powder off of the counter, eat the top off and sprinkle it all over the floor in the living room. All we needed is some parmesan and Redbird was going in the oven.

So, I proceed to arm myself with our new suckfabulous Dirt Devil Cone, and suck up the garlic. While I’m at it I decide to go ahead and vacuum up the fur ball critters that accumulate at every corner in our house. Then I decide, fuck it, while I am down here, I might as well glean the hair off of the air filter (yes, we ARE that ghetto). I lift up the ancient grate and proceed to suck up the hair, while I am doing this, all of the sudden, my sugar starts to drop. I immediately stand up and go straight to the kitchen to get a cookie or a coke or something so I don’t keel over.

I turn the corner to the kitchen and go to grab a glass, break the glass on the stove, yell at the dogs to get out of the kitchen, and clean up the glass. By this point, I am uber wobbly and need sugar. The first thing I grab is chocolate chip cookies. I munch out for a minute and get my sugar to a safe level and get ready to go back to cleaning. Wog calls me (from the driveway) and asks me to come help him….I turn the corner and BAM!! Into the furnace intake I go. The opening is about 2x3 feet and 3 feet deep.

I only wish this picture did my bruise justice. The bruise starts at my ankle and goes up to my knee.

See, in the midst of my diabetic dilemma, I forgot to put the grate back down. Yeah. I am an idiot.

It gets better though.

Saturday night we all went out to celebrate my cousin, Catie’s birthday. It was fabulous. We get home, go sleepy sleep. I awake several times with this pain in my right leg (the bruise from the Furnace Fiasco on my left). I thought to myself, “damn, did I bruise that leg too?” It finally starts hurting to the point where I have to get up and pee. Because, for some strange reason, pain makes me urinate. I flip on the light in the bathroom and to my horror, there is a blister the size of a Grade A Large Egg on my right shin.

What. The. Fuck.

I flip out. What did I do? How did I burn myself? IS this a burn? Then I realize I fell asleep with my heating pad on. I do this occasionally, especially on cold nights. I always keep it on low and never, EVER has it burned me before.

I must have done something to piss off the heating pad gods because they got me good. This is what I woke up to yesterday morning. Take a look.

And today, it has nearly doubled. I would like to thank my photgrapher, Jess, for being such a good friend, as she took pictures in awe.

I also have a knot on my head from where I had to get out of the car and go to the ATM as it started hailing. But we SO won't go there.

Luckily, I am still here. And still breathing. And yet I still make myself wonder…

Stop, Collaborate and Listen

2009-03-26T10:39:00.001-04:00

Well, hello again! I have been a wee tad bit out of it for the last week or so. Don't worry, Kat, my cat did not eat me. But she tried. My dad and I have been working on getting all of the Probate paperwork done for mom. Handling her finances and threatening to murder her creditors. If it isn’t one thing, it is another. The only good thing to come of this paperwork and such, is that I am inheriting a small amount of money. Nothing significant, but enough to put a new roof on our leaky shack we call home, and put a privacy fence in the back yard.

My mom had an IRA, which mainly consisted of stocks. My sister and I are the beneficiaries on it. I opted to give up the majority of my %50 to my sister (who is 15 and has some minor learning disabilities) to be put into her own IRA for her college education. My dad gave me the idea, which I thought was fantastic and exactly what my mom would have wanted.

The beauty of this all is that whenever I found myself in a financial bind, my mom was always there to help me. For a long time, I really felt as if I depended on her to pay certain bills. I know that this was not the right way to think but I was young and (financially) stupid. In the last year or so before she passed, she basically put a stop to that. Saying “you dug this hole, now YOU get out of it”. And Damned if I didn’t.

Lately Master Wog and I have been trying very hard to save up the money for our new roof. We have been successful, sort of, but then something came up and we had to steal about 1/3 of the money out of our savings to pay for.

Anyway, what I was getting to is that I almost feel like in some strange way, mom planned this, she knew that this money, no matter the amount, would go to good use. She knew that after she passed, I would be a lost little puppy, looking for a way home. And somehow she managed, even after death, to be there for me. Mom was just the bomb like that ;)

In other news, I have been really, really having a heard time dealing with just life in general lately. Every time I run into a problem, whether it be at home, at work, with a friend, I have the urge to pick up the phone and call mom. I find myself really needing her advice right now. So, I chose to, instead of sit in my bed and wallow, clean the living fucking shit out of my house. And may I just say, WOW. Strange how good things happen when you are put you mind to it. My floors are SO SHINY it is amazing. (I have unsealed hardwood floors in my house, it is difficult to keep them clean, much less shiny and pretty, so you can see where a shiny floor would make me happy).

I also started baking again. I know, me? A baker? Weird. But I do love to cook and especially bake sweet things. Don’t worry, I don’t eat much of it, I wouldn’t want all of my lovelies out in blog world to think I am going into diabetic shock or anything. I just make Wog eat all of it. Hehe.

Another thing I am looking to start doing again is drawing and writing. I did both quite frequently years ago, but stopped when mom got sick. I think getting creative again will help me focus on positive things, like creating something form nothing. That and I will have more cool drawings to put on my wall. I’ll get a picture tomorrow of my treasured Tiger. One of the first and best drawings I have ever done.

Ok, I’ll stop with the rambling nonsense now. I’m off to browse shingles!!

Wait, Jess just told me that her family friend Luke passed away this morning. And the other gentleman, Bucky, passed yesterday morning. Keep their families and friends in your thoughts today, and maybe say a little prayer for them. I know I will be.

And you think you have problems?

2009-03-12T14:44:00.000-04:00

So, I have 3 cats. Flea and Sid, the two gay lovers, and Kitty. The GIANT one. As a full grown cat, she used to be cute and tiny and petite, now, not so much. We found her behind Kroger when she was only a few weeks old. We didn't plan to keep her, but it just kind of happened. After we had her lady bits removed, she BLEW THE FUCK UP.

She tried to run out the back door yesterday morning, it was more of a waddle…she got to the end of the steps (there is only 4) and turned and looked at me like “I did it!” Funny thing is, when she tried to run, she couldn’t. Stupid fat ass cat.

These pictures just do not do it.

This is when she was cute and petite...

And now she is fat. Jess helped me model her.

Duke did too.

And Kane. Aren't they helpful!

Where, oh where, has my sanity gone?

2009-03-09T13:10:00.000-04:00

I wrote a while ago about a few little fuckheads shooting at each other on front of my house. Now, that crap has escalated, and I am out to stab people with rice paddles.

Friday afternoon, the house across the street from us was robbed. Fortunately, the couple and their baby were not home, but the burglar beat one of their two dogs with a fire extinguisher. And then sprayed them both with it. In January, a house, 2 houses down from ours, was robbed. TWICE.

I have always felt safe with my dogs at home. They let me know any time a leaf falls off a tree, or when the mail has come, or when there is a strange cat in the alley behind our house. But now, knowing that there is some fucker out there who will beat a dog to steal a tv….I’m terrified. Take my TV, please don’t hurt my dogs. You can take the cats. Just don’t hurt the dogs. You can even have the bird, the cats and the huge box of Ramen noodles I have had for the last 3 years. On second thought, take the bird, leave the cats and dogs, and I’ll give you a DVD player…it works, I swear it does.

I was really upset about this whole thing. Thankfully, no one was hurt, the dogs will be ok, but this poor family was violated. I know now that he has a gun, a big one. And so does Master Wog. Now we have both sides of the street covered.

Anywho….

I wanted to tell you guys about a really special person in my life. She and I have worked together for the last 3 years. She has become a huge part of everything I do. Even if she is a wanker and doesn’t like to hang out with Jess and I, I love her dearly. We shall call her Lilbit.

This girl is amazing. When mom was sick, she was my shoulder. When Master Wog and I start having trouble or when I make a bad decision she is always there to set me straight. I sincerely do not know what I would have done without her guidance. Well, I would probably be a drunk living under a bridge.

She did something for me after mom passed. Something I never expected. She put together a beautiful gift for me. she took the last paragraph from mom’s eulogy and put it in a frame, along with her birth and death dates, and a picture of a shooting star (actually she later told me it is a plane, but it looks like a shooting star…so, shh, no one knows…) I cried like a little baby when she gave me this. In a million years, I would have never expected someone to do something like this for me.

The picture is on my mantle and will stay with me forever. I love you, Lilbit. Even though you smell funny.

I promise that the frame is not dirty. Even though it looks to be. I even dusted it before taking these pics so that it wouldn't look dusty...

FYI, the pic to the left is of my sister, my mother and I.

Oh Squiggly Line

2009-03-04T14:54:00.000-05:00

I was outside smoking a cigarette with Jess a while ago, when, for some reason, we started talking about 'floaters' in the eye. I have seen floaters for years and they have recently gotten worse with the cataract in my right eye. Now everyone ignores me when I am trying to hit the 'bug' that just flew by my head. Yah, um, there was no bug. Every time I look at a beautiful blue sky all I can see are little squiggly fucking lines. We talked about how they float in, and then they float out, and how I can never focus on one because they run away. After laughing about me being a dipshit, saying they look like birds, or planes...or Superman, Jess sends me the following quote:

"Oh, squiggly line in my eye fluid. I see you lurking there on the periphery of my vision. But when I try to look at you, you scurry away. Are you shy, squiggly line? Why only when I ignore you, do you return to the center of my eye? Oh, squiggly line, it's alright, you are forgiven."

— Stewie Griffin, 2007 "The Tan Aquatic", Family Guy.

Gotta love that girl.

Sometimes there really is a silver lining to the darkest cloud, either that or I have mastered making fun of myself.

I was looking for the video of Stewie on youtube, and instead, found this guy. As stupid as it is, it still made me giggle....

The roof, the roof, the roof is---leaking again...

2009-03-02T11:29:00.001-05:00

Holy sheep testicles have I been out of it for the last week or so. Master Wog and I have been oh so close to stabbing each other in the jugular with a dirty diabetes infected needle. Thankfully, we are better now. I am back to stabbing with a steak knife, a clean one.

We live in Savannah, in a wee bitty 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. Every time we have a storm come through, we take turns counting shingles in the backyard. We have a leak in the master bathroom ceiling and it is always my job to align the pot underneath it and pray that THIS TIME the roof won’t fall in. I think when they built the house back in the 40’s they used grass as insulation. We can never keep the house cold OR hot. NEVER. And it smells funny, that may be because of the 6 furred and 1 feathered animal we have, but who’s counting…We have been almost desperate to get the fuck out of this house for the last year. It seems once we fix one thing, something bigger and more expensive breaks. We spotted ninja mice in our attic, I think they are smart enough to know NOT to go into the house, they travel from the crawlspace underneath the house, to the tree right behind it and plop into the attic. (Fun Fact: Wog put some rat poison stuff up there to kill the little bastards a few months ago, when he went to go check it, both trays with poison in them were gone, they totally dee-boed our shit. Now I know that they are smart like that, I considered actually feeding them, I was all, but honey, they are cool! WTFever.)

Anywho, a few weeks ago we got an advertisement on the front door from one of those ‘We’ll Buy Your House’ companies. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. Wog talked to them and he finally convinced me to meet with them. I did. Everything sounded great. It seemed this was exactly what we have been looking for. They would buy our POS house and in turn build us one. We would have enough equity in our house to pay off our debt. Basically a fresh start. Except that our monthly mortgage payment would double. Yeah, like, whoa.

So for the last 2 weeks Wog and I have been asking friends and family what we should do. Writing up budgets to see if we could afford it. As it turned out we could, sort of. He and I were almost ready to sign the papers…and I think mom must have come down and clocked me in the back of my head with her celestial cane because all of the sudden, I was like, wait a tic…I don’t fucking think so.

Why stretch ourselves, we are comfortable with our mini zoo in our wee bitty house. We are doing well financially, and are able to pay all of our bills and go out if we want. Our neighbors are…well, lets not get into that quite yet… We can deal with the neighbors. If we save up over the next 6 months or so, we can put a new roof on the house, fix the leak and put up a privacy fence in the backyard to contain the beasts. So, why leave now.

My main concern, as a woman, was kids. Yes we don’t even have any yet and the little bastards are making decisions already. I DO NOT want to raise a family in the neighborhood or house we are in now. I was thinking a new house, different county, better schools…but then Jess reminded me I have 3 years of birth control implanted between my bicep and tricep. AND that in 3 years, our car will be paid off. We would be in a much better place, financially, to start popping out little bearded wonders.

And that was it. Master Wog and I discussed and decided that it would, in fact, be better for us to wait. So we are. And after constantly worrying about the shit for the last 2 weeks, we are over it. Now we are able to focus on the problem at hand (the roof), start saving and in a few months throw a new one on.

I am 24 years old. I have been in a serious relationship for over 5 years. Had the same job for over 3 years. We bought our house when I was 21 and he was 22. How many people my age do I know who can say that…not many. We are doing damn good for ourselves. I am proud of the things that we have acquired over those last 5 years, included my mini zoo. We are happy. And as my good friend Magan told me, ‘bigger is not always better’. (When you are talking about houses, of course).

Now that that is out of the way, I’m pregnant! Kidding. No wee ones for us yet. But I did want to show your guys a cool ass picture I took the other night. This is our king size bed, on any given night, when we are watching TV. I would have it no other way.

This is 4 of the seven furred beasts, watching American Idol with me.

I'm With Beard

2009-02-19T09:37:00.000-05:00

I was laying in bed last night watching the news, as I always do, when suddenly my late night TV watching was oh so rudely interrupted by the EAS (Emergency Alert System…for those of you are lucky enough to NOT have Comcast, this shit comes on, turns the screen blue and red, scrolls whatever little storm is coming on the bottom of the screen and goes EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE for, like, ever.) (Oh, and you CAN’T change the fucking channel) Normally it only lasts a minute or so and then back to whatever you were watching. Well, I don’t know if someone out in EAS Hell was out to get me but this shit lasted 20 minutes before I got fed up and turned the damn TV off.

I was pissed.

Then I started thinking about what I should write about today. Nothing had really been on my mind…

I mean, I could tell ya’ll about the stomach virus I had earlier this week and how my poop turned black and I thought I was dying, and then I found out that Pepto Bismal does that. Weird. I know.

Or how I put my spray tan on last night and went a little crazy with it. I look like I have some terrible orange disease eating away at the skin on my legs.

But all I could think about, for some strange reason, was Master Wog’s beard. It is huge.

And now, I present to you...The Beard...

This is when it was a baby beard.

New Years Eve, 2 years ago.

St. Patrick's Day, 2 years ago. (I know you are confused at this point...he has shaved it off a few times over the last couple years, and lets it grow back in all its glory.)

St. Patrick's Day, last year.

Because he does not share the love of the Internet as Jess and I do, most of the pics of him are like this.

And this.

I will leave you with a few of my favorite pictures of my love. And his beard.

Last, but certainly not least, my most favorite picture of Master Wog and I. In the almost 6 years we have been together, this is the best.

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens...

2009-02-11T11:44:00.000-05:00

I wrote yesterday about baby Brooklyn and my mom. After reading it again, I felt I should really go into a little more detail about my relationship with my mom. What easier way to do that than to post the eulogy I wrote for her.

She was very sick for a very long time. She was in the hospital and then SHE made the decision to go to Hospice. My family did not like this decision, but I told mom that I would support her in whatever she decided. And I did.

Before she transferred to Hospice, she asked me to deliver her eulogy. At 23 years old, having my mother ask me to do that was a whole new experience all in itself. But I told her that I would be honored, and that I would love to do it. I wanted her to be able to proofread it, but before I finished it, she was gone. I feel I did her proud and that she would have been giggling and crying just like I was when I said it.

Plus, it will explain the grilled cheese sandwich comment from the last post.

Here it is, hope you enjoy...

Mom always said she thought I had a way with words. Whether I was reciting a poem I wrote, telling her why she should switch to a different brand of dog food, or begging her to get my ears pierced. So when she asked me to deliver her eulogy, I wasn’t surprised. I was honored, but not surprised. But then I ran into the problem of figuring out how to put into words, the story of my mother. How to explain the joy in her laughter. The unconditional love in her eyes. The fact that she never met a stranger. And every person she spoke to, she made smile. Even if it was by asking them “what’s invisible and smells like carrots”, the only joke she knew. I realized there is no way to verbally express how beautiful she was. But I would like to share a few of my memories with you.
Mom could always make you smile. No matter how terrible your day went, or how bad you felt. She had a way of just making you giggle. One day in particular, I was having a rough morning at work so she said, “want to get some Krystals?” Who can refuse that! She and I ordered and were waiting for our food when we noticed a gentleman, obviously disappointed in his meal, stomping up to the counter. “Excuse me ma’am,” he said loudly, “I can’t eat this, the bread is all soggy…no, I just can’t eat this.” Mom looked at me with her big smile and winked, before the cashier could respond, walked over to the man and said, in front of the busy lunch crowd, “Well, darlin’, that’s how they are supposed to be!” Right as I was about to hit the floor and hide from the embarrassment, everyone in earshot burst into laughter, including the man with the soggy Krystals. All I could do was smile at her.
I can’t count how many grilled cheese sandwiches we ate together. Everyday I would drive to her house on my lunch break, we would discuss what I we made for dinner the night before and how next time to do it her way, talk about the weather or who was going to be on Oprah today. She would fix us each a grilled cheese and we would eat and just talk. Then, without fail, she would ask if Jessica wanted a sandwich too, and of course she would, I mean, who could refuse mom’s grilled cheese?! So she would get up, make Jess one and have it done just in time for me to high tail it back to work. See, she couldn’t make that one when she made ours because it had to be warm for Jessica. That’s how mom was. Always doing the little things to make everyone happy.
Magan reminded me of the day this year that she and mom and I met at Arby’s for lunch and mom insisted on ringing the bell. Even though the entire time she made it very clear that they DID NOT make her day. She did it to be silly. To make us both laugh. Catie shared a memory with me just the other day about mom being the ‘Chocolate Milk Police’, let’s just say that Catie likes to have some milk with her chocolate. Mom would slickly roll back to the kitchen counter in her wheel chair and say “Catherine” in that mom-caught-you tone. Or when any one of us would sneak into the junk food cabinet, she would always know what you were doing but never failed to ask, almost saying, put it back, you don’t need Oreos for lunch. I could stand here for hours and remember things she did to make us smile. Like last Valentine’s Day. She somehow found the largest, greenest Valentine’s Day frog and brought it to me at work. She knew I didn’t need a three foot tall green frog, but she did it because she knew that it would make me happy. And that I would smile and giggle like I was a child again. That’s what made her happy. Seeing the people she loved, simply, smile.
When I was a teenager, one Mother’s Day I typed up the lyrics to Wind Beneath my Wings and gave it to mom. For years, every time I heard this song, I thought of my mother. Now, more than ever, these lyrics mean so much. I would like to read the song. I won’t sing it; I wouldn’t want to put Bette Midler out of a job. But here it goes…

It must have been cold there in my shadow, to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way, you always walked a step behind.
So I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name -- for so long, a beautiful smile to hide the pain.
Did you ever know that you're my hero, and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle, 'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
It might have appeared to go unnoticed, but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it, I would be nothing with out you.
Did you ever know that you're my hero, and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle, 'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, away, you let me fly so high.
So high against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.

Speaking of thanks, Thanksgiving Day is just around the corner. A time of year when we are thankful for the people in our lives. The blessings they remind us of each and everyday. There are no words to express how thankful I am. I feel it was a privilege to have the mother I did. To have inherited her loving spirit, her ability to forgive any and everyone, her patience, but above all the love she taught me to give. She taught me that no matter what obstacles I may face, to love unconditionally. I will treasure that always.

A friend recently told me to think of her as a big, bold, magnificent star in the sky. Every person who saw this star was touched by it’s beauty and light. Once you’ve seen it, you will never forget its brilliance. And because she burned so bright, and changed so many lives, she burnt out too early. She has found her home in the heavens, where she belongs. So next time you see that big bright star up there twinkling at you, or maybe you’ll see it just shoot on by, I want you to remember mama. And the love that she taught us all to give.

Brooklyn Riah

2009-02-09T15:35:00.000-05:00

Meet the newest addition to our family. Brooklyn Riah. My cousin, Catie, who was raised as my sister, had her first child this past Thursday night.

I was in the room for the delivery and may I just say…I am never having fucking children. Fuckin. OW. Ok, ok, so I will have kids, but none of that pushing crap. Just cut me, pull 'em out, and sew me back up. Oh, and give me drugs. LOTS OF DRUGS.

She is beautiful. And I am so proud of Catie for getting through it. Although, it still makes my vagina cringe just a little. Fortunately, I have at least three years before I start having children, thanks to my little friend, Implanon.

As I have mentioned before, I lost my mom back in November. As I have not mentioned, I was with her when she passed. Catie and I were there, I was holding mom's hand and Catie was holding mine. Some people have said that I shouldn't have been in the room with her, I feel as if she wanted me there. It is a moment in my life that I will never forget. The fact that Catie shared that moment with me, meant the world. She was with me when one special life ended, I was with her when another began.

I cannot begin to express how emotional I was when she was born. Just knowing that this was a whole new chapter, and the beginning of the next generation. I know that mom was there, or somewhere, watching, having a beer and coaching Catie, laughing at her. I know that she would have been just as proud as I was to watch Catie bring life into this world. And she would have giggled at how many times one woman (in labor) can say FUCK in an hour.

When mom was in Hospice, Catie was almost 7 months pregnant. I gave her and Brooklyn's dad the idea to name the baby after mom. They had already planned to name her Brooklyn Rayne. I told her it sounded like a stripper's name (we DO in fact know a stripper named Reign). Catie was not allowed to name her Mariah Larkin. That is my shit, got it on lock down. Mom named me after her when I was born. The Exact. Same. Name. We confused a lot of people over the years...Anywho...They decided on Brooklyn Riah (my mom's name being Mariah, in case you didn't just catch what I threw at you).

I think that fact makes it even more special to Catie and I. Maybe in some strange way, mom is part of Brooklyn. I can only hope that Brooklyn will grow up with the kind heart mom had. The understanding and patience. The love and compassion...

But most importantly, the ability to make the best damn grilled cheese sandwich ever.

New Hair!!!

2009-01-29T16:28:00.001-05:00

I did it!!!! And I love it!!! YAY!!!

Oh, and go read this. It is a entertaining conversation Jess and I had this morning. Trust me, it is worth it. She just beat me to the punch.

New Implants and Old Hair

2009-01-28T10:00:00.000-05:00

I am going later this afternoon to get the Implanon birth control implant. I have done a shit ton of research and found it to be the best route for Wog and I. We want to have children, lots of them, just not right now. This little toothpick looking thing will provide a steady stream of hormones for 3 years. And, the best part, if we get froggy and decide we want kids in the meantime, just take the sucker out and start makin’ babies. It gets implanted, through a syringe, into the crevice under your bicep, and it stays there.

I am really excited to get this done. A very simple procedure, it takes place in the doctor’s office. I just get numbed up and BAM! The little bugger is there. If you care to know what exactly it is I am talking about, you can go here.

Also, I have decided to chop my hair off. YAY! I have had very long hair all of my life. this is where it is as of now...

And I am going to get it cut shorter than this...

But a tad longer than this...

My hair is more curly than theirs, but my stylist is the bomb (so I have heard). I am nervous, but OH SO excited!!!

Update: I just got back from the lady bits doctor with my new implant! I feel good, except for the ridiculous bandage they put on my arm. I have even inspired Master Jess to go and get her very own arm toothpick.

New hair pictures to come tomorrow!!

I sure do use a lot of commas

2009-01-26T15:40:00.000-05:00

I saw the best and most common example of simple kindness this morning. I actually saw a young man help a little old lady across the road. The guy in the car next to mine even put on his flashers and stopped in the middle of the intersection so they could cross the street. As I sit in my car, smoking a cigarette, all I could do was smile. It kind of reminded me of the Liberty Mutual commercial. This one. Made me feel all warm and mushy inside.

I get to work all bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to drink my Slim-Fast and be all nice and shit. Then I remember the fucking gunshots a block from the house yesterday. We don’t live in any extravagant house or neighborhood. Wog (my manfriend, also know as Paul, The Bearded One, but shall now be know as Wog, Because I am too lazy to type Pollywog every time I talk about him….where the hell was I ….OH!) and I live in a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house with all 7 animals. Our house is not in the greatest part of town but far from the worst. We have never had any problems with anyone. Not even the old couple or the mean lesbians have ever started poppin’ caps in each other’s asses before. Turns out the little fuckers were 16, 17 and 18 years old. Sadly, they did not actually shoot each other, but they did do some damage to a couple houses. And a tree. That poor tree. They got off about 20 rounds and then took off. Little bastards. How dare they interrupt my Sunday TV watching.

I did, however, contact my local news station (anonymously, of course) to ask if anything was going to be done about them doing this, that it wasn’t fair that they only got a slap on the wrist, a misdemeanor, and a 40oz, and if the police were just going to wait until someone was injured or killed from a stray bullet. OK, so maybe I lied about the 40. See, this is not the first time we have heard gunshots, but it was the first time they were so close to my little house. Yesterday was the first time in the 3 years we have lived there that I was scared. Luckily, Wog has a gun, a big one. And we have big dogs who look TERRIFYING and will lick anyone to death on command.

In other news...

I am considering chopping off all of my hair. I have had really long, curly hair all of my life. I think I want to chop all of it off above my shoulders. Right now it is more than halfway down my back. I am torn. I love my long hair, but I also think I sincerely need a change. Maybe I should have a pink Mohawk. Work would LOVE that.

I have a papercut on my middle finger. The coolest part about it is when I say, hey, look, I have a boo boo...well, shit, you know where I was going with that one.

Oh, and, Jess isn’t here today. And I am bored. I have no one to grope-- I mean talk to. But I did get to sniff a permanent marker briefly. That was fun.

Dogs, Cats and a Bird, OH MY!

2009-01-22T10:18:00.001-05:00

Right now, all I can think about is hot lesbian sex, because of a certain little wench and her evil, evil ways…because of this, I am going to introduce you to my animals. Officially.

This is Duke. He is my bubba. He is Bloodhound/lab (we think).He just turned 4 and he is very big and kind of stupid sometimes. Notice the black spots on his nose? When he was just a tiny baby puppy, he got very sick and came very close to dying. He recovered fully and is now just big and dumb.

This is Kane. He is 3 as of last month. And we think he is full blood Golden retriever. I call him sweet Baby Kandy Kane. He is truly a sweet heart. we rescued him from a shelter and he has been nothing but a pleasure. (Except for that whole eating poop thing)

Brace yourselves…this is Roxy. The most awesome dog EVER. She is my old lady, a 9 year old Dalmatian (runt). We thought for years she was mixed with something. Just last year our vet informed us that because of the amount and consistency of her spots, she looks to be all Dalmatian. She thinks she is human. She is so polite that she will not jump on the bed or the couch until she stares at you, your soul is stolen, and you tell her it is ok.

You previously me my gay male cats, Flea and Sid. Flea used to be very tiny. Sid used to be all white. Now they are happily in love…and all that jazz.

This is Kitty. Kitty was a stripper in her former life. Before we had her spayed she would line up the dogs and give them lap dances. She hates us now. After removing her lady bits she has gained approximately 10 pounds. Yes, she is a fat ass now. Poor thing.

Lastly, this is Redbird. I inherited him from an aunt that passed away. He is about 15 years old or so, and shows no fucking signs of kicking the bucket anytime soon. Damn. He hates me. He talks and will carry on a conversation with who ever he taunts into listening. He cusses, screams, shoots his shit and sleeps with a can on his head. Very entertaining but a huge pain in the ass. We love him still.

I will end with a few of my favorite pictures of my dog children. Just a few, I swear.

For the record, I love all of my animals (almost) equally. They drive me crazy and keep me sane. There is no better feeling than the unconditional love an animal gives you. I honestly do not think I could have made it through the last few months without them. They are my life.

Ok boys and girls, I’m off to go daydream about hot lesbians again. Damnit.

My Very 1st MeMe!!

2009-01-19T14:21:00.000-05:00

Apparently tagging means...like, tag, your it! Or, do this shit now bitch! And there are rules? What the hell kind of Internet is this?! 10 honest things about me? Hold on kids, I WILL STOP THIS CAR.

1. I have 3 large dogs, Duke (90lb Bloodhound/Lab), Kane (80lb Golden Retriever), and my sweet baby girl Roxy (50lb Dalmatian runt). I also have 3 cats, Flea, Sid and Kitty. And Redbird. A Red Lory. He is evil.

2. My favorite movie of all time is My Fair Lady, followed very closely by Moulin Rouge. But I don't usually care for sappy chick flicks. Weird. I know.

3. I cook. A lot. And I make very strange things sometimes. Well, actually, I just throw a bunch of shit in a pot and hope for the best.

4. I make a dish dubbed Butthole Surprise. It consists of tater tots, chili, and cheese, layered and baked.

5. My mother passed away November 18, 2008. I am still having a very, very hard time dealing with it. I pretend, very well, that I am ok. But I'm really not.

6. I find myself getting more emotional about stray dogs than I do about homeless people. Or cats. Cats are whores.

7. My boyfriend has a 16 inch beard, and he's bald, by choice. Freak of nature he is.

8. I can watch reruns of House M.D. any day. All day. I love it. I also just found out I missed the new House last night. Jessica made me watch Intervention. Hooker.

9. I am a type 2 diabetic. I take at least 3 insulin shots a day and check my blood sugar between 5 and 10 times a day. I recently came out of the denial stage when my mom passed away from complications from diabetes. I am trying hard to not follow the same path she did.

10. I love my job. I was recently promoted to Legal Assistant from receptionist. I have been here for 3 years and could not ask for more. I love my boss and the people I work with.

And now moving on to more important things, it is time for the morning poop talk and smoke break.

But first, Jessica gave me this award the other day. Thanks Hookercheese!!!

Happy Inauguration Day!!!

Do Not Mess With My Bacon

2009-01-16T11:22:00.000-05:00

I wrote this back in August, but I felt that my new friends should know....

I was flipping through the channels last night to find something interesting or in the least bit entertaining last night to watch before my usual Monday night guilty pleasure, Intervention, when I happened upon QVC. Now don't get me wrong, I can sit and watching the mind numbing home shopping network for at least an hour (before I catch myself and realize I am behaving like a 70 year old woman) and then turn the channel. Last night was different. I was totally mind fucked by Savannah's own Paula Deen. Not until last night did I realize just how much I despise this woman, and her little restaurant too. I cannot put my finger on exactly what it is I hate about her. The fact that she said, REPEATEDLY, that you can't buy Smithfield Bacon in the store. BULLSHIT WOMAN, you can buy it at Food Lion, or Kroger, Or Piggly Wiggly. For the record you can go here to see where in your neck of the woods you can purchase it. Or the fact that she talks like some hybrid blue haired hillbilly from hell.

*I would like to add that I am from Savannah, born and bred. I say ya'll. But I do NOT talk like that. Neither does anyone in my family. Or anyone I work with. Or, in fact, anyone else IN SAVANNAH*

Maybe it was the fact that her macaroni and cheese was almost $50 for 6lbs (Stouffers anyone?) because it has the mark of the beast (in this case the mark of the beast is Lady and Sons brand). Maybe it is because she is a hybrid blue haired hillbilly from hell that runs on butter, batter and bacon grease. I can't stand her. And if I hear her say 'Hey ya'll, I'm Paula Deen!' One more mother fucking time I am going to stab myself in the eye with a plastic spork.
Just thought the world should know.

Word.

Let's not forget this either. She is out to rule the world and kill us all.

I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

2009-01-16T09:35:00.000-05:00

I had full intention of writing this morning and introducing my children. All 7 of them. But as I was getting ready to leave the house this morning, I saw something life changing. I could not believe I was actually witnessing this.

How did it happen?

How could they do this?

What about the girl?

Will they ever stop lying to the rest of the family?

What will his brothers think?

But, as I sit here, I realize, not everything is as bad as it seems. Sometimes, love can be found in the strangest places. Like on top of electronics. Yes people, my two male cats, are totally in love.

Meet Fleamus and Sidious Maximus.

*Kitty, the female, was not available for photographs this morning. She was so distraught over the boys' love she hid under the bed, we asked her to comment and all she would say is "I'm not fat!''She really is. Although no one has the heart to tell her to her face.

This is after they were caught. Aren't they sickening?

I have a very interesting post coming titled Corn: The Body's Cockroach. Thanks Brad.

Oh where to begin...

2009-01-15T11:07:00.000-05:00

The other day I found myself sincerely needing a vent (that wasn’t my poor, bearded boyfriend). Today, with the encouragement of a few friends, I found it. So here the fuck I am. Deal with it.

I am Larkin. 24. I have lived in the beautifully pathetic city of Savannah my entire life. I despise Paula Deen. You will not convince me otherwise, so don’t even try. I am happily un-married to my boyfriend of over 5 years, Paul. But most importantly, we have 3 dogs, 3 cats and a parrot that is evil and hates me.

I have several best friends, who mean the world to me. We usually get drunk and try to fix each others problems. Or just play board games or watch American Idol. Or sing karaoke. Or play Rock Band. Or whatever else tickles our pickle at the time.

But the root of my problem lies with the fact that I recently lost my mother. She was my heart. My best friend. And now I am struggling with moving on with my life. She was diabetic, as am I. I am trying to not follow the path she did. She was only 46. I know there is a better route for me. I start it now...