Monday, August 21, 2006

RETURNING TO WORK


Here in small town Texas finding a job is hell. Especially in Podunk. If you aren't sleeping with someone, married to someone,or related to someone. The chances of getting a decent job in Podunk are slim and none considering I am an outsider.

After I quit waitressing for Becky I took a long deserved rest. I think seven years of work with no vacations warranted a little time off. But with bills piling up it was time to find a new job.

I put in applications all over town. And waited weeks for someone to call and say Ranea we would love have you work with us. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

But the local grocery store decided to take a chance on me. It's not my dream job, but it's a paycheck. I started working again last week.

I hurt all over. I am not use to being on my feet for 8 hours a day anymore. And learning their scanner and the produce codes is tricky. One wrong number and a $.05 banana is a $2.00 avocado.

I hate being the new clueless person. I have never been someone to ask for anyone's help. And now I am starting all over and having to ask a million questions. But that's not entirely my fault. My training consisted of having another cashier stand beside me for two hour.

My job isn't hard but there is a lot of lifting, and like I said my feet aren't conditioned for heavy use anymore. Every night I come home limping. I hope it gets better soon.

Maybe one of the other places I applied will call. I really don't want to end up like the boss. The man started working there as a kid carrying out groceries, and has never left.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

NICE TRY BITCH - FOAD!


This week the target of my hatred are fucking bitches that knowingly try to seduce married men.

I have one skanky cunt in particular in mind. Her name is Jill. And without a doubt she is the loosest woman I have ever met.

In Jill's wake are several ended marriages, and two coaches have quit before being fired due to their affairs with Jill. This ho-bag doesn't hide what she does, if fact she flaunts it.

All this is reason enough for Jill to Fuck Off And Die. But wait, there is more to the story.

Anytime I was out and about I somehow had the misfortune of bumping into Jill. And without fail that slut would always ask me " how is that husband of yours?" Being an outsider in Podunk I would bite my tongue, smile, and reply "he's fine." But even an outsider has her limits.

One Saturday after cleaning out closets all day I found myself without one ingredient for dinner. There wasn't time to freshen up the store would be closing soon. It figures, I look like hell and guess who I run into?

You guessed it, Jill the douchebag. She made a bee line straight for me. And as always, with a grin on her face asked, how is that husband of yours? I snapped, with my hands on my hips, and in a rather loud voice. I told her, my husband is satisfied!!

Jill's jaw dropped open and she gasped like I had sucker punched her in the gut. Needless to say, Jill no longer inquires about my husband's well being. Matter of fact, she avoids me altogether.

Jill and any other bitches that see all men as fair game can Fuck off And Die!!


Monday, August 14, 2006

I'M THE BEAUTY

Once again I have been chosen by Siren to be the Beauty on Beauty vs. The Beast. Right now Fuzz is kicking my ass. Please Help!!!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

MANLY ATTITUDE - FOAD!!


Today my rage is for the macho fucktard at XYZ tires.

I needed new tires and I am perfectly capable of going out alone to purchase them. But apparently the knuckle draggers at XYZ tire thinks my tiny female brain can not comprehend the complexities of buying tires. After all I'm just a woman.

I walked into XYZ tire and told Bubba that I needed a set of tires. Bubba had the balls to ask me where my husband was, that we should wait for him. I took a deep breath, smiled, and asked how my husbands whereabouts effected this purchase?

Bubba seemed confused but unfased. Well little lady let's go see what size tires you need. Little Lady? What the hell!?! I gritted my teeth and said to this dumbass, Pumpkin they are 65R 15's, now let's talk price.

You could have knocked him over with a feather that I would know my own tire size. But Bubba's stupidity knows no bounds. He went to the computer, and after a couple of seconds of scanning the screen. Bubba said I can set you up for 480.00.

This is the point where I snapped. I thought up to this point I held it together pretty well. My eyes glazed over, I grabbed my breasts and with my voice raised considerably announced. Listen lug nuts just because I have tits doesn't mean I don't have a brain!!

Now stop dicking me around. You're not the only place to buy tires you know. Twenty minutes later I drove out of XYZ tire with four new tires costing 180.00. With free rotations and flats fixed for life.

I am sure Bubba convinced himself I was a Dike. But believe it or not Bubba not all women are clueless about cars. And not all men took auto shop.

So the cavemen at XYZ tire and others like them can Fuck Off And Die!

Monday, August 07, 2006

SHOPPING FOR SCHOOL


I spent all of yesterday school shopping with my kids. We managed to make it home with only six or eight eye rolls. And two major threats that my teen daughter would just die without a certain pair of jeans.

My son is much easier to shop with. If it fits it's o.k. Oh as long as the shirt doesn't have long sleeves.

On our school shopping extravaganza we went to seventeen stores, and spend what seemed like a quarter of a million dollars. It's money I'll literally never see again. Some of these clothes won't ever make out of the closet. And some of the supplies won't be used or used for their intended purpose.

My daughter is a marathon shopper, until our focus turned from jeans to notebooks. Then it seemed someone had filled her shoes with cement. Funny, that's where I got my second wind.

Nothing says back to school like fresh, clean paper, and sharpened pencils. I can't wait to sound the trumpets the first day of school. It is almost as good as Christmas morning.

I've heard of Mother's that cry and find it hard to let go of their little one's the first day. It must be the valium kicking in. It is completely the opposite for me.

I wake up to the birds singing, and with a spring in my step. Impatiently I wait for the kids to get dressed and finish breakfast. I announce, "only twenty minutes till school starts, we better hurry".

I prod them into the car for the four block trip. I wouldn't want them to be late. Then the moment arrives that the kids have been dreading.

No not school, mom's happy dance. I stop in front of the school, get out and wave to the kids. Then I do my victory dance that I survived another summer.

The kids rush for the door in embarrassment. Hey it's one way to get them inside without having to drag them. Then I return home to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace.

I love school!!

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

SAVING THE WORLD ONE TWINKIE AT A TIME!!


Fat Momma, Fat MommaI'm here to save the day.
Fat Momma, Fat MommaI'll take your food away.
So, don't eat those chips and ice cream now Cause I'll take them from you so you won't look like a cowFat Momma, Fat MommaDon't you try and take my donuts away.

My addiction to reality shows rears it's head again! Channel surfing the other night I found, "Who wants to be a Superhero?" on the Sci fi channel. And I could not resist.

Eleven Superhero wannabe's compete weekly to become their own comic book character. Stan Lee, God of comics and Dark Horse comics have combined to make some ordinary persons dream of superstardum come true.

Out of the Eleven competitors Big Mama for me stands head and shoulders above the rest. In a world where looking like your a skeleton with skin stretched over it is the ideal. Big Mama shows the world that she is closer to the actual size of normal women. Though I am not sure I would be as comfortable in spandex as Big Mama is.

I just love this show. All the Superhero's live in a swanky secret lair. And Stan Lee transmits their competitions to them on a flat screen t.v. After each challenge they meet on the roof of the lair to stand in judgment. Stan Lee then picks out three contestants that he feels performed the worst.

After Stan explains what they did wrong, the contestants have a chance to beg for mercy. The choice is Stan's alone. One Superhero each week is kicked out of the lair.

After just one episode I was hooked! And I was glad to read that I am not alone on this in the Blog world. I see that Fuzz over at Blugstuff is a fan too. But I guess we will be arch-enemies since he likes Major Victory, and I like Big Mama. Fuzz only time will tell who will be the next Superhero.
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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.

Cairde

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