Monday, December 31, 2007

The Year In Retrospect And A Brief Anecdote

It's been quite a year for us, this 2007 - a red-letter year in so many respects. Jethro ditched his widow-maker of a boss in a unexpectedly timely manner. That in and of itself makes the year worthy of note. But on top of that, we bought our own business, moved cities, and renovated our tiny monstrosity of a home. It will definitely stand out for many years to come for all the wonderful things that came out of it.

And yet I'd trade every good thing in an instant to erase the one bad thing.

Jethro and I went to the cemetery to visit Charles again on Christmas Eve. There were so many things we needed to do that day, but that just seemed to be the most important. And am I ever glad we did. His mom and fiance had gone the day before and put up a wreath and an ornament which the wind had blown down and strewn all over. Jeth and I collected it all and put it back. I found some Christmas ribbon in the car and tied everything down so the wind couldn't knock it over again. I felt better knowing that his grave would be the way his mom and his girl wanted it for Christmas. It's funny the comfort we take in such small things.

Ah well. I don't love ending the year with such a somber post, but I must remember our friend. He is definitely worth it. I'll make up for it with a funny story about him, or actually just involving him. It's mostly about a large girl who was another friend of ours.

I'll call her Tina, and I'll say it again. She was large.

When we were in college, Tina used to throw these crazy parties. We'd fill a Rubbermaid trashcan (designated solely for that purpose) with Trashcan Punch, buy a few cases of beer, and have some fun. We had several awesome parties there including one where we watched the Rockets sweep the Magic in the '95 NBA Finals, loaded 20 people, a keg, and a couple of brooms into the back of someone's pick-up......but I digress.

Tina's apartment complex was in a shady part of town, and not terribly well kept. But it did have a swimming pool. And swimming pools have a bad habit of luring in drunken young college chicks. And drunken young college chicks have a bad habit of removing their clothing, once succumbing to the lure.

On this particular occasion, being a chaste and virtuous maiden, I had passed out in a pool chair after having only removed my top.

When I came to, I found myself alone except for Tina who was happily cavorting in the pool all by herself. Since it was her apartment complex, she was afforded the luxury of a swimsuit, and so had not felt the need to return with the others. Apparently I was chopped liver. No one had bothered to wake me up to go get dry.

I had misplaced my glasses as was usual for me at these parties, but had enough clarity to realize that I was pretty drunk and all alone with a 300 lb. girl who was similarly inebriated. I was pretty sure, should she start to drown, that I could not save her. And I wanted to save her. I liked her a lot, and her parties were great.

"Tina!" I called. "Come backatha party! I need nonother drink. Drinkiepoo. Y'know. Drink."

"But I'm having fun out here," Tina said, floatily. "Tell the others to come back!"

It took a minute or two for this to sink in, but I was pretty sure by the time I thought of a good reply, I could go back to the party and bring a few more people out.

"'Kay, Tina. I'll bre righ-back," I shouted as soberly as I could. "Shtay by th' pool shteps an' I'll go bring 'um back here."

I wobbled back to the party where I procured the help of Charles and tall, skinny girl named Kara. Charles, having lost his own glasses (he wore glasses back then), let Kara lead the way. We chatted merrily, if not coherently, until we got to the pool.

Suddenly, without warning, Kara stopped short and flung her arms out. Charles and I were nearly clotheslined.

"Stop," Kara said in a low voice. "Y'all turn around right now."

Frightened, we obeyed.

"Tina! Tina, sweetie!" Kara chirped in her most endearing southern twang. "You might want to put your swimsuit back on now, honey!"

"But I'm free! FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" sang Tina as she splashed joyfully through the white water of her own wake.

Charles and I clawed at each other for a minute in a mutual frenzy of horror and mirth, and immediately congratulated ourselves not only on having lost our eyewear, but on having need for it in the first place.

I don't remember much after that. I think Tina ended up putting back on her swimsuit, but not before someone called out an order to "man the harpoooooons!" which I thought was very rude. I do know that not once did Charles so much as squint in her direction - a temptation that surprisingly few were able to resist.

Just one of many strange, fond memories...

Saturday, December 29, 2007

The Recipe For Zelda
3 parts Success2 parts Flirtation1 part Devilry
Splash of Class
Limit yourself to one serving. This cocktail is strong!

Friday, December 28, 2007

Emo Post

Life is so unfair. For Christmas, one of Jethro's sisters asked to take the girls to Florida to swim with dolphins at some dolphin swimming place.

The plan was that we would leave the girls with the in-laws Christmas day night, drive back to New Town, spend the whole week nekkid (except for when we were at the clinic), put on some clothes for the weekend and party, then finally drive back to Houston on New Year's Eve to pick up the kids.

It was going to be fantastic.

But I am still sick. Feverishly, bloody sinusly, ear infectiously, swollen neck glandsedly sick.

So I am sitting here shivering and glowering, feeling like a two-year old who hasn't gotten her way. I would stamp my feet if I thought it would make me feel any better. But it won't. It would just make my head ache more.

Good bye, cruel world.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

The Magic 8 Ball

It was a nice Christmas. No major dramatics (miraculous for a family consisting of 12 females and 2 sperm donors), just the heartfelt observation that we could use some men in the family. Jethro cannot carry the load by himself. Every time we leave my family's estrogen plantation, I see just a few more gray hairs on his head. It's already driven my stepfather to insanity.

I am still not feeling well. I was doing better yesterday, but seem to have had a relapse. I have the energy for one funny story, but then I'm spent.

Gwennie and Emma had themselves a great Christmas and got a pretty nice haul. One of Gwennie's presents was a Magic 8 ball. It was a last minute present because Emma was getting a high school musical poster, and Gwennie's Pokemon poster hadn't come in yet. They have to have an even number of presents. Be quiet, they just do.

Anyway, Gwennie had left her Battleship game all over the floor and I asked her to pick it up. The third time I asked, I didn't ask nicely. She snatched up her game in a manic huff and nearly threw it at me.

"What is your problem?" I asked, nonplussed.

Tears formed in her eyes. Real, legitimate tears.

"My family doesn't love me," she said simply.

"What on earth would give you that impression?"

"I asked my Magic 8 ball if I like pie and it said "yes." Then I asked it if my family really loved me and it said, "no." Her voice broke.

"Oh my god. I'm going to smash that thing into pieces. Gwennie. Look at me. You can't ask a piece of plastic important questions like that. It's just a game. You're only supposed to ask it questions like, 'Should I wear my red shirt today?' You know, things that don't really matter. You know I love you. I love you and Emma more than anything in the world. The day I had you was the happiest day of my life."

She brightened considerably.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Gwennie?" I asked seriously.

"Yes. I feel much better now that I know it's just a game."

A mischievous look came into her eyes. She shook up her Magic 8 Ball and asked, "Am I going to get presents next year?"

She turned it over and read: "Outlook not good."

She frowned a little and said, "I'll ask it again."

She turned over the 8 ball and read: "All signs point to no."

She sighed. "I'll ask it one more time."

Once more she asked the question and shook up her 8 ball: "My reply is no."

She looked at it for a second, then said cheerfully: "Well, that's it for today."

Merry Christmas

I know it's a little late, but I had to say it. Now I'm going to bed.


Saturday, December 22, 2007

Got Tagged

Still feel like shit, but I was fortunately tagged, so I don't have to do any great thinking.

I guess I must post the rules so here they are:

1) Link to the person who tagged you. That would be Sohos.
2) Share Christmas facts about yourself.
3) Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4) Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. Wrapping or gift bags? Wrapping. I like difficulty.

2. Real or artificial tree? I prefer a real tree, but have had an artificial one until this year. The artificial one actually broke at the base the first year we got it and we've jerry-rigged it for seven years now. Last year if fell over three times, so we decided it's time had come and gone.

3. When do you put up the tree? Whenever we get the chance, but not until the beginning of December.

4. When do you take the tree down? Again, whenever we get a chance. I once left it up until February.

5. Do you like eggnog? Oh yes. But definitely with rum in it.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? A Barbie Dream House. We'd just finished with the Best Christmas Ever in the way of loot, when I looked over and saw this strangled look of delight on one of my sister's faces. My dad had pulled off a sheet exposing a brand-new Barbie dream house. We were really into Barbie, but never expected the dream house for even a second.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? Yep. Two actually. Gwennie broke Mary and Jesus last year with a yo yo, I think, and I was quite peeved.

8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Haven't really received a bad one. I've liked, or at least appreciated them all.

9. Mail or email Christmas cards? I ought to mail them, but I never do. This year I emailed them.

10. Favorite Christmas movie? A Christmas Story. "FRA-GI-LE. Must be Italian." Cracks me up every time.

11. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I always say I'm going to start early, but I always end up starting after Thanksgiving.

12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Marie Callenders Razzleberry pie

13. Clear lights or colored? Colored

14. Favorite Christmas song? Fairytale of New York by The Pogues and Merry Christmas from the Family by Robert Earl Keen

15. Travel at Christmas or stay at home? I usually go to my parents' house.

16. Can you name all of Santas reindeer? Yes, thanks to Gene Autry, the Christmas Cowboy.

17. Angel or star on the top of your tree? It's a nativity tree topper that should have a star over it, but it broke. Gwennie again.

18. Open your presents Christmas Eve or Christmas morning? The adults open theirs' in the evening, but we make the kids suffer until morning.

19. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Lunatics on the road.

20. What do you leave for Santa? Cookies and milk for Santa, carrots for the reindeer.

21. Least favorite holiday song? Let It Snow. It's just cruel to play it in Texas.

22. Do you decorate your tree with any specific theme or color? Nah.

23. Favorite ornament? A silver martini glass. It's just cool looking.

Anyone who wants to do it is more than welcome, but I'm specifically tagging Angi and Jeanette to be answered at their leisure.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

What A Night

I'm going to try to explain the night I had last night, but I was feverish, so there is a good chance this post will make no sense.

Nope. I changed my mind. I don't feel well, so I'm just going to sum it up.

A skunk set off our smoke alarm.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007


I'm not feeling very well. I have a runny nose, an earache, and a sore throat. I'm dripping on the keyboard as I speak, so I'm going to bed.

Everyone have fun and avoid the malls.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

After catching a glimpse of my reflection in Jethro's laptop screen, I have since decided to revise my come-hither look to exclude the sticking out of my tongue from between my teeth.

It's a goddam miracle I've ever gotten laid.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Something To Make Your Head Explode

I read this courtesy of Michelle Malkin. I just want to cry. I can't even waste thought on those two pieces of raw sewage who gave her up. Just give her to me. She can be my little girl and she will never have to worry about fitting in with disgusting eurotrash.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Ignorance Is Bliss. Damn the Internet.

Gwennie is supposed to write a little paper on Johnny Appleseed, so I helped her look him up on Wikipedia. I thought it prudent to skip the part that discusses his views on marriage.

Which leads me to the bad part of the internet. There is so much I never wanted to know. I didn't want to know that most of the Riders of Rohan from the Lord of the Rings movies were women. I didn't want to know Errol Flynn's friends propped him up in a hotel lobby after he died so people could get a look at him (actually, I don't really mind knowing that for some reason). And I most especially didn't want to know that Grandpa on the Waltons was a bi-sexual. I don't even like thinking of him as a unisexual. I hope it's a rumor.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Spectres From Our Past Never Die

I have not encountered anyone on this planet who has the capability of annoying me more than Jethro's former boss. 'Annoying' might be too mild a word, but I hesitate to reveal the psychotic depths of anger to which that ugly, stupid bitch can drive me.

It could probably go without saying, but she owes Jethro a not insignificant amount of money from when he worked there. Knowing her as we do (she is tighter than the asshole of a straight man who isn't into that type of thing), we have not exactly been expecting it to be paid. It doesn't change the fact that she still owes it.

But now to the part that makes me want to ruin her self-esteem (puzzlingly intact for such such a boring, witless, unattractive woman).

She wrote Jethro an email explaining why she was not going to pay him. Dumbass Bitch would have been better off not bothering. Her reasons were that 2 people he referred had not panned out according to her expectations and she had trouble collecting from one of their insurance companies - neither of which have anything to do with the fact that she owes him money.

Now I, in my haste to injure her emotionally, would have sent back the following email had I been Jethro:

Hey Dumbass Bitch,

I expected some kind of excuse from you regarding the money you owe. You are quite predictable in this regard. Luckily, it is quite well-known that you are not a person of her word, so we didn't rely upon it. Hopefully you will use whatever you've screwed us out of for a complete physical makeover - a benefit to all who cross your path in the future.

Best Regards,


Jethro, being somewhat less hot-tempered than I, actually responded with a cheerful, positive email detailing how happy he was to be on his own, how pleasant it is here, and never once mentioning the money.

Upon reflection, this was the best type of email to send. There is nothing in this world that would chap her ass more than knowing Jethro is doing well on his own, and better than she was doing when she was first starting out. She is a very jealous person.

No doubt she'll try to convince herself his comparative success is due to the fact that he has a penis, or because he knows Asian people, or because he bought an existing practice, or because his hair swirls in a particular direction on his head. She'll do everything but acknowledge it's because he is a far more pleasant person, a far better doctor, and not physically repulsive. But she'll know.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Little Bit of Nothing, Little Bit of Elvis

I guess it's hard to top a post about dream bestiality, but I really don't want to leave it up any longer.

Not much to talk about. I start classes on January 7th. I'm borderline excited. There is a lot I want to do with it, but anything specific is as yet unformed in my mind. Regardless, Jethro had his turn in school, and now it's mine. Mine won't be nearly as long or as expensive. If I may be serious for a second, I feel like I have an overload of creativity and no outlet. Certainly no market. We'll see where it goes.

I really don't have much else, so I'll leave you with Elvis jamming my favorite Dylan tune.

"I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind,
You could have done better but I don't mind
You just kind of wasted my precious time
Don't think twice it's alright."

Thursday, December 06, 2007

I Had A Dream

Yes, it's a dream post, but before you run away screaming, I must inform you that it will probably be the most embarrassing post I've ever written, perhaps with the exception of this one.

I must preface this by saying that I'm the world's most masochistic dream-cheater. In the dream state, I can be about to copulate with the hottest of BLY(M)HwLSE***, when suddenly, millimeters from pure bliss, I'll remember I'm married, and virtuously put a stop to it; whereupon I will wake up and ravish Jethro.

However, when I'm about to copulate with some hideous troll of a man/woman (yes, I said woman) or some other person with whom a sexual interlude would cause eternal social discomfort, I don't remember I'm married until after the fact. Or worse yet, I do remember I'm married but I'm too consumed with lust to care.

I'll have to blame the dream I had last night on the unhealthy combination of watching Naruto, and reading Trashman and Jim Treacher all in one day. It's too much for anyone.

So, to be concise, I dreamed Trashman was a giant toad who gave it to me good with his tongue. And it was pierced (the tongue, that is).

And there was no remembering I was married. Even if I had it would have done no good. The tongue was waaaaaaay too sticky.

***Barely Legal Young (Male) Hottie with Low Self-Esteem.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

It Seems I'm Lacking Development

I did some testing at the school of graphic design I'm going to attend in January, and I had to write a stupid essay. The computer (yes, I said computer) graded and critiqued the essay as soon as I had submitted it and informed me that I had excellent sentence formation and grammar, but that my content needed development.

What was particularly galling was that it was true, but how much could I do with a 600 word limit? However, there is no arguing with Com-Pu-Tor, so I had to deal with my 9/10 score on the essay.

I also discovered that I am retarded in Algebra. They won't even let me take a class until I pass some remedial program. It's a bit humbling. Jethro makes fun of me. He seems to think that just because he can read, I should be able to add letters and numbers as if that makes any sense whatsoever.

I told him when he can read without moving his lips, I'll learn to multiply letters. It wasn't really fair. Jethro doesn't move his lips that much, but I'm sensitive about my lack of mathematical skills, and I'm pissed because he shaved his face and it makes me look like a child molester.

Monday, December 03, 2007


This is hilarious. Especially if you like Shakespeare (or were forced to read him ad infinitum in college).

H/T: Phlegmfatale

William Shakespeare

He that sleeps feels not the Zelda

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

Get your own quotes:

So things are rolling along here. Jethro had a spectacular day at the office today, and I am going back to school.

I don't dare get my hopes up though.

One day at a time.

Keep on keeping on.
It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Roses are red, violets are blue, my husband's johnson is an ungodly hue.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

So I was going to get a serious buzz on last night, but Emma came down with a stomach ache so bad, she was writhing and crying and I had to give her a Fleet, or as she put it, "some butt medicine."

I knew it was bad when she asked me to give it to her.

Turns out she was constipated on top of having eaten a great deal of broccoli and some onions.

Poor baby.

She was fine this morning, so I feel justifined in having consumed nearly a bottle of chianti and one of Jethro's fabulous Bloody Marys.

Now I'm going to watch Tombstone and get laid.

Ciao, y'all.

P.S. According to the AP (which I have yet to take with anything but a grain of salt) Chavez lost.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

I'm Not Think About What I'm Writing, So Whatever Comes Out....Comes Out.

I think I'm turning into a dirty old gay man. Barely legal young men have been kind of working me over lately.

I love Naruto. I hate my husband for turning me onto the program, but I love it. Better than Harry Potter.

I hate Windows Vista. I want to get rid of it and go back to whatever it was we had before.

I'm going for an interview at a school for graphic design on Monday. We'll see.

Is anyone else turned on by their own boobs? Men? Lesbians?

I'm gonna go get another beer now. Have a great weekend.