Friday, July 28, 2006


Last night the family went out for pizza. At the next table over were six band geeks and their leader, I mean teacher. I called him a leader because their conversation seemed to be on the border of being a cult. The leader then handed each geek a call list.

Each of them were instructed to call the people on their list and persuade them to join or stay in band. With cell phones at the ready. The phoning frenzy began.

I am pretty sure one kid scared off more people than he convinced to play in the band. This kid decided to call using an english accent. He got hung up on a lot.

The leader/teacher found his accent amusing. Another band member who looked more like the Ag. teachers wet dream had a much different approach. If the high school band gig doesn't pan out, this kid has a bright future as a used car salesman.

This kids sales pitch for the marching band should be stitched on a pillow! After asking others to join, he would say, contrary to popular belief band is the cool thing to do. I almost choked on a bread stick!

The last kid Slick called was still on the fence about band even after his best pitch. So then Slick pulled out the big gun. He told the kid on the line, tonight pray about it and call me back. I chuckled and said to my husband, what would Jesus do?

I wonder if that kid has made his decision yet?

Wednesday, July 26, 2006


I have been watching Rockstar Supernova. I know, I know, everyone thinks reality shows bite. But I confess, I love them.

Well, I love some reality shows. I watch Survivor and Big Brother religiously. And I'll admit to watching Top Chef this year.

Doug and I both love music. We go to lots of concerts and have tons of c.d.'s. We watched some of last seasons Rockstar Inxs not all, we were never big fans of Inxs. And besides, who wants to resurrect the dead and go on tour.

When we heard that the band Supernova consisted of Gilby Clark of L.A. Guns, Tommy Lee of Motley Crue and Jason Newsted of Metallica we were in. So far two contestants stand out. Both are rockin' women.

Storm and Dilana are in my opinion the best contenders for the job of lead singer. Neither of them have had an off week yet. All of the guys are hit and miss from week to week.

Storm can look tough but Dilana is down right scary! She's heavily tattooed and pierced. When Dilana sings, her menacing stare can burn straight through you.

I can imagine the scene if she is chosen to front the band. The guys are arguing over who will wake Dilana up. No one wants to do it.

Jason looks at Gilby and says it's your turn, go wake her up. Gilby replies you go knock on her coffin. See this?, it's not a hickey, that crazy vampire tried to bleed me dry. The two of them decided to send in Tommy. If he can survive Pam, he would be o.k.

I also watch to see the one's that suck so bad that you wonder how they got this far. For me that one is Sayra. This woman can't sing and has no clue about the members of Supernova's background.

Sayra doesn't disappoint, she sucks every week and is always in the bottom three. But she hasn't gotten the axe so far. I can't figure out why, her voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that this week will be Sayra's last.

Thursday, July 20, 2006


This addition of Fuck Off And Die Thursday is aimed at my ex-employer. Becky, the cold, heartless, camel toe havin', hillbilly, can fuck off and die!!

While working as a waitress for Becky I put up with a lot of shit. Too much to list in one post. Matter of fact I could probably write a Blook on the subject.

But one incidence stands out for me. I was helping the cook open some large cans. When my thumb slipped and the jagged can edge cut half way through my thumb.

As calmly as I could, I wrapped up my thumb, and called Becky into the kitchen. Becky being a volunteer EMT. I thought she could at least bandage it, so I wouldn't bleed everywhere on the way to our little clinic.

I won't deny that I shed a few tears. But this fucking douche bag looked at me and told me to suck it up. Being the bitch I am I fired back with, buy some shoes hillbilly.

When the dried up cunt finished bandaging my wound, I headed to the restroom to clean up. Becky said one more thing to me. She had the big brass balls to tell me to put my big girl panties on and get over it. The lunch rush will start soon.

I knew she was a bitch but I thought she was kidding. I needed to go to the doctor. But when I returned she was gone. I had to wait tables with my thumb throbbing. And by the time Becky showed back up I was livid! I didn't even get an apology.

So a well deserved Fuck Off And Die goes out to Becky!

Thursday, July 13, 2006


I saw this on Fuzz's site, and thought this was just too cool. I had to join the ranks of Fuck Off And Die Thursdays.

My first installment of FOAD Thursdays is aimed at all wrinkle cream companies. They can all Fuck Off & Die!!! Especially the the one's that use twelve year old actresses to sell their product on t.v.

Who are they kidding? None of these girls have hit puberty yet let alone been faced with a wrinkle! Not only can they Fuck Off & Die, they can kiss my ass too!!!

Thursday, July 06, 2006


For those of you that don't have kids. But have nieces and nephews maybe you can relate. I bet you are their favorite Uncle or Aunt. That is if you like kids.

Kids love the single Aunts and Uncles. They are the people who let them eat ice cream for breakfast. The one's that encourage mess making. And let you cuss. And they always give the best presents.

Mom's and Dad's hate it when little Timmy comes home from a weekend with fun Aunt Cindy. Timmy arrives in the same clothes he left in. Has four new ear splitting toys. And a two pack a day habit.

Why did we let Cindy watch him for the weekend? Cindy can't even raise mold in her fridge. And I can't even count the number of pet funerals I attended.

I had an Uncle like that. Uncle Shorty, I never knew his real name. But he was the greatest! Every morning it was IHop, and anything I wanted. He took me to carnivals, and the park, but the best was the bars.

Uncle Shorty played shuffle board for money quite often. And I was his good luck charm he said. Before we got home Uncle Shorty would make me promise not tell if we were at the bar. And we thought we had some convincing cover stories. But mom knew the truth. I think she just wanted some quiet at any cost.

And when your a grandparent you've got free rein to spoil. My parents did. They bought all the noisy toys, built forts in the living room. Grandparents never tell you that a cookie will ruin your dinner. And all of my parents, grandkids could play poker by age six.

I know it breaks your heart when Timmy says he likes Aunt Cindy better. Or you don't love me as much as grandma. But take comfort in knowing. One day Cindy will have kids. Then you'll get your revenge! And Timmy will also have kids. And it's your turn to spoil them rotten.

Take your nieces, nephews, or grandkids out for a triple fudge sundae, a 42 oz. soda. Let them make mud pies in their good clothes. Then take them home.

And when Cindy or Timmy sees their child filthy, and buzzing on sugar. Just smile and sweetly say, PAYBACKS ARE A BITCH!!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006


I like telling tales of my younger days. Sometimes I look back on these times fondly. And other times I wonder what were we thinking? Now that the forth of July is almost here, I think about the holidays gone by.

At seventeen, seniors, and bulletproof. My friends and I pooled all our money together, separating it. Half for beer, half for fireworks. Now there are three things you don't like mentioned together, teenagers, alcohol, and explosives.

We stopped off at the beer store first. Mike had the fake I.D. so he bought the beer. Two cases of cheap nasty beer, and four bottles of Boones farm wine for the girls. Next stop, the city limits and the fireworks stand.

We browsed a while but the guys knew instantly what they wanted. The guys wanted Roman Candles, and lots of fire crackers! They weren't wanting to see a pretty Ariel display. No, they wanted a war.

Well after some beer, wine, and a lot of coaxing we chose up sides. To make it a fair fight the girls were equally divided. But we had other plans.

Being the young idiots that we were. We squared off like gunfighters, and came out shooting. Shooting Roman candles at each other a point blank range. We suffered only one casualty, Brent tripped and shot himself in the thigh.

When we ran out of roman candles, we broke out the firecrackers. By this time the girls had had all the fun they wanted. We felt like we had cheated death. Flaming balls flying at heavily sprayed hair, was living on the edge and making out alive to tell the tale.

However we did keep some ammo in case the guys tried to attack. Once they were pelted a couple of times, they retreated. This time the guys didn't come out without a mark. Mike in a slightly drunken state held a lit fire cracker a little too long.

When the fire cracker exploded in his hand the fun was over. Mike lost a little skin, and had powder burns. But at least he had his fingers. But up until then it was fun.

Mike did get a nifty nick-name out of the experience, after that he was known as Nub.
Have a safe and Happy Fourth of July!
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Location: Podunk, Texas

I am a wild Irish rose stuck in a cow pasture. Completely out of my element but trying to fit in as best I can.


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