Thursday, September 27, 2007

In The News...

Isn't this taking "turn the other cheek" just a bit too far?


I don't think other countries realize how these assholes play the press. This article should never have had to contain this sentence:

"The South Korean hostage crisis proved to be a windfall for the Taliban, winning them face-to-face talks with South Korean government delegates."

Since when do hostage-takers win anything?

Not that I plan on being that stupid, but if I ever fall prey to hostage-takers, DO NOT PAY ANYTHING FOR MY RELEASE. AND MAKE SURE THE ASSHOLES WHO KILL ME DON'T LIVE TO GLOAT ABOUT IT.

But you have to be tough and ignore my pleading. Because I guarantee you I will plead like a little bitch.



In a surprisingly good article by the Guardian, the reporter didn't bother to tally up those ever-so-objective-courtesy points, and instead noted how creepy the Iranian dictator's actual words are.

"Ahmadinejad was at his most chilling when asked about the current crackdown on academics, journalists and intellectuals in Iran. He denied there was any generalised persecution, but added that eggheads could not be above the law.

Academics "could be involved in an accident", and so would have to go before the courts, he warned. Or, from time to time, "one may be invited by the police to answer some questions".

Most spookily of all, he smiled and said: "Everyone is under surveillance - the surveillance of almighty God."

....An Iranian-American journalist asked him to clarify his extraordinary claim on Monday that there were no gay people in Iran, pointing out, "I know a few myself."
"Seriously? I don't know any," the president replied, in apparent surprise. "Give me some addresses so we're able to go to visit them and learn about them."
[all emphasis mine]

Yes. Give me their addresses so we can study these so-called ho-mo-sex-u-als. We'll put them in a nice cage and watch them play.

The article goes on to say (and I couldn't have put it better myself):

"Given that sodomy is a crime punishable by death in Iran, it was a particular chilling offer."

Hear that, Queers? Still think Bush is your problem?

Monday, September 24, 2007

Goddamnit, Marcia...

I was having an innocent conversation with Jim Treacher while he contemplated a rumored liason between Marcia and Jan Brady (please read link).

The result:
No, I didn't actually molest Mr. Treacher. My drinkable, organic yogurt came on my face. And my shirt. And the knee of my jeans.


Sometimes I enjoy listening to Gwennie and Emma chatter.

Jethro and I took them to the circus the other night and I bought them a stuffed tiger and a leather whip during the intermission. The following conversation ensued:

Gwennie: What do you want to name him? We both have to agree.

Emma: I think we should call him Fluffy.

Gwennie: What?! He's a vicious tiger. You can't call him 'Fluffy.'

Emma: But he is fluffy.

Gwennie: But he isn't trained yet. We haven't even whipped him yet. He's still wild. You can't call a tiger 'Fluffy' if he's wild, even if he really is fluffy.

They ended up calling him Rory, which I thought was hysterical. You might think it's clever, but I don't think they know that Rory is really a name.

We went to church yesterday. Gwennie became possessed by the Devil. We were standing during opening prayers which went on for a bit. When we sat down, Gwennie breathed loudly and said, "Finally!"

I told her I was going to beat the starch out of her if she didn't keep her mouth shut for the rest of the time, in as low a voice as I could manage. She didn't talk much after that, but she did kick the lady sitting next to us, reached over me to hit Emma, and attempted to sit on the back of the pew in front of us.

I don't really want to go back to that church.

Thursday, September 20, 2007


An owl resides in

Our backyard. He is quite disrup-

tive while we have sex.


Jethro and I made a little trip to the Verizon wireless store in a mall close to our house to see if they would do something about an extremely high phone bill. This was the coversation on the way:

Zelda: If it's a chick, you go in. Ditch the wedding ring, talk in your deep voice, and tell her your a doctor.

Jethro: Do you want me to ask her out on a date?

Zelda: If you think it will help...

Jethro: And if it's a dude?

Zelda: That shrimp I ate last night was pretty salty. I don't know if I can get my wedding ring off. But here. I'll hoist up the girls a little and he won't even look for a wedding ring. I suppose I ought to put on some make-up. I look like a poorly aging goth reject.

We arrive at the mall, and see there is a gentleman manning the store.

Jethro: I'll go in. You don't know any of the details of the bill.

Zelda: This is unfortunately true. I'll be in Express. Is it wrong that I'm hoping he's gay?

Jethro: Yes. Very.

Zelda: Thanks for not allowing me to whore myself to the Verizon man.

Jethro: You're welcome.


I can't believe how busy we are. We could still use more patients (and they could use Jethro) but I'm finding myself with very little time on my hands anyway. I haven't even shaved my legs in over a week, and I've gone quite retro, pubic-ly speaking. If I go naked for Halloween, the kids will think I'm a scary monster walking on his hands. I'm not sure what kind of insults I'm setting up my face for, but I'll risk it.

So on that terrifying note, have a great weekend.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Current Events

1. I'm about to be stymied by the QuickBooks tutorial. That is how bad at Math I am.

2. The clinic is running smoothly.

3. The front desk girl is a talker. And she's the worst kind of talker because she is interesting and you get sucked into her stories and forget what it is you're supposed to be doing. I like her.

4. I miss Charles.

5. Gwennie and Emma took a RadKids self-defense class this past weekend. Gwennie got tricked into giving her password and Emma can't fight worth a damn. Hopefully they learned that they need to run fast.

I learned that I need to have them surgically tethered to me at all times.

The suited-up instructor got kicked in the balls twice by these giant 12 year old boys. He had to take a few breathers. Those boys seemed likely to actually be predators one day. One seemed quite homeschooled.

There was another kid with Down's Syndrome who was fantastic. The kids were supposed to practice walking past the "bad guy" and then running away from him when he tried to get them to come with him and wasn't able to tell them their password. The kid with Down's started what was supposed to be the nonchalant walking, but he was punching his fist into his other hand while he was doing it. It's hard to explain just how cool that was.

6. I think we are going to stay put for a weekend. We've been back to Houston for the past three, and we're about done-in. And one of my sisters is coming up, so we might as well give the poor pilot a rest.

7. Scrubs are comfy. I'm annoyed I didn't discover them sooner. The only problem is that the hotter looking ones are cut fashionably (which is not to say it aesthetically pleasingly) below the butt crack. I have no intention of giving anyone more than for what they paid. Well, maybe a little. But I do want them to return. It's all about balance.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Sometimes Jeff Goldstein is perfect.

Through the Tears

I'm going to let my friend ALa's post do the talking today.

Monday, September 10, 2007

so much depends upon an orange scooter...

As always happens when something important occurs in Real Life, blogging takes a backseat. As odd as it sounds, and as busy as I am, I don't want to get out of the habit. Blogging is my deal. It's helped me through so many moments in my life where I might have gone crazy from Events Beyond My Control.

And since I have nothing career-wise except helping Jethro with the clinic (and I'm more than fine with that), I'd like to have some kind of outlet. And this, dear friends, is it. It's not a lot, to be sure, but it is me and I need it.

Just had to get that out there.


Jethro, the girls and I have been running back and forth from New Town to Houston for two weekends now and are planning to go back again this weekend. We have a lot of crap at the old house to clear out, sell, or throw on a bonfire. It's amazing how much junk I considered important and still would if the thought of sifting through it didn't set my ADD into overdrive.

Anyway, this past weekend, Jethro, the girls and I stopped at my mom's house on the way back to New Town to say "hi" to my family and "happy birthday" to one of my sisters.

In the midst of our visit, my Lesbian Sister showed up looking quite eccentric with her hair windswept into a somewhat terrifying coiffure and wearing a bike helmet as well as a t-shirt that said I *heart* Frat Boys. She wears shirts like these to tease men then cock-block them into complete emasculation when she insists that she's gay. She intends the Patriarchy to suffer greatly at her hands. But I digress.

The girl had bought herself a little orange scooter and had driven about 40 miles out to my mom's house on some fairly speedy roads. She then proceeded to take my youngest sisters on it sans helmet, while I clucked my disapproval. And I'm a tool for doing it. I should have just punched her in the face and welded that helmet to their heads.

She then tried to make me let Gwennie and Emma on the scooter.

I said, "no, no, no."

She said I was one of "those" moms.

I said she sounded like a teenage drug dealer.

She said my children were going to be jealous of her children.

I said I was sorry I wasn't a cool Lesbian scooter-rider, but the answer was still "no," and any rebellion on their part would be paid for in belt welts. And I meant it.

She changed the subject. She told us how truck drivers had no appreciation for the fact that she was trying to save the environment and how she'd gotten into a middle-finger duel with one of them on the way.

Since she has converted to Lesbian Environmentalism, I have decided it is prudent to hold my tongue. Pointing out that truck drivers' more pressing concern of not running over idiot scooter-riders, takes somewhat of a precedent over an environmental agenda is like trying to convert a Jehovah's Witness to Satanism.

What is it with my family and joyless sanctimonious ideology? Can't they just relax for awhile? Haven't we been on that train long enough?

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

And So It Begins...

I accidentally dropped a bar of Ivory soap in the toilet. It does, in fact, float.


For anyone who doesn't know, we closed on the clinic and are now proud business owners. Jethro has worked the past two days and is kicking ass, if I may be so bold.

I feel a little useless now. I've schemed and dreamed for this clinic and I believe it's ours just on the strength of my determination. But now that everything is said and done, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I don't know the first thing about running a clinic, and there is a lady who has been there for years and knows everything backwards and forwards. It's a stupid idea to get rid of someone like that, so we'll keep her as long as we can afford her, which will hopefully be until she retires. I say we. What I really mean is Jethro. I keep forgetting that this is his deal now. I'm involved in an advisory capacity, of course, but it isn't my show to run. And I don't want it to be. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

I guess I'll just try to find ways to market. More patients mean more money and we really really need it.

Anyway, I just wanted to blog briefly and update everyone as to our whereabouts.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Question of the Day

Why on earth would anyone put padding into a 36G brassiere?