I can’t stop giggling. This morning I checked me recent googles and other search engine hits and as usual they are beyond the realm of weird. My favorite new hit is:
“POUR YOURSELF A CUP OF shut the FUCK up”
though this came in a close second:
” capuchin monkey want ads ”
my other recent fabulous hits are:
“drank toilet bowl cleaner” (Umm shouldn’t you call 911 instead of hitting Google?)
“old beach babes”
“beach butt” (are they referring to the phenomenon where sand invades every crevice and for doys you are shoveling sand out of your butt crack?)
“boobies googles”
“good porno” (I feel privileged to know that I turn up under the term of good porno)
“squeeze through” NEAR boobs” (why is the word NEAR so important in this search?)
“ladies in thongs and butts” (Yes I may get caught in a thong, however I have NEVER been caught IN a butt)
There were a host of others involving various porn scenarios, masturbating, showering at the gym, making bail, and finding yourself. I think I should strive daily to land myself smack in the middle of weird searches. I should start making random statements in every post designed to get more Google traffic. Alf in a thong.
It’s a bit sad, as the years peel away, to feel the lessening of joy when one’s birthday rolls around. It is akin to the loss of Christmas magic. You wake up and instead of bounding from your bed you realize that once you roll from bed, the same chores await you and you’ve moved into a different age bracket when you fill out a survey. It was, of course, lovely to allow my eyes to rest until 11 am (thank you my darling husband). It was however disappointing to only receive phone calls from my mother and sister…. Everyone else seems to have forgotten. I went to Michaels and bought myself a birthday present. A curio cabinet for my tin tea sets. I also purchased a large canvas and mass quantities of glue and glue type products. This all culminated in my latest piece - Tulip
When the art history books document my life, they will remember this transition in my life as a very fruitful one. 26 I’m no longer in the “hip” 18-25 demographic but my art exceeds my age marketable outlook. And for what it’s worth, I still feel like a 16 year old girl standing before the world with trembling knees.
Dozer is broken - well, fractured to be completely accurate. He’s been limping for two days and today I finally pushed his fat ass into the vet - Dozer is now over 100 lbs!!! Anyways they poked and prodded and xrayed. They found a fracture and poor pup is now wrapped up like a mummy. I felt so awful that I made doggie biscuits from scratch. He’s greedily gobbled handfuls and layed around moaning. My dog is now on pain meds and we’re hoping that they are not the kind that involves a Betty Ford intervention at the end of his prescription.
The new A/C is installed, I am pleased. Of course the installer is out in his truck writing up the bill - I wonder how short lived my pleasure will be! If you turn your eyes to the side bar on the right and scroll down a bit to “My art, love it” you’ll find my latest piece. I’ve been keeping busy scraping down the outside of the house and popping Xanax. Yesterday I had a lovely encounter with ‘le clerk creepies’ Every time I shop at this specific store in the afternoon or early evening I end up with this specific bagger - he creeps me out. He always makes the person in front of me walk their own bags out by pulling their full cart behind him and promptly asking me if I’d like paper or plastic before they have even finished paying! Yesterday I had a a staggering 4 bags. He loaded up my groceries and while I was paying pushed my cart towards the door while executing a robo grip on the cart. I tried to nonchalantly walk off with the cart saying “I’ve got it from here!” with a smile. His grip tightened, he stared straight ahead and said “It’s no problem, I said I’ve got it” and started walking away with my stuff!! I scurried behind him and dude heads straight for my car… Ok I don’t shop here THAT often that the guy knows my car - he had purposely REMEMBERED which car is mine. The hair on my neck is standing up as I open the trunk where he was faced with a 44 LBS bag of dog food. He asks what kind of dog I have and I just say in a clipped tone “3, and 2 are big and protective” He asks what breeds and when I mention Maxx he starts whining about how he wants my Doberman… It was tres weird. I looked and said “he’s very loyal to us and I know that if anyone tried to hurt me or my family that one if not all my dogs would rip their face off” he seemed unfazed by this and started talking about something else… I got in my car and briefly considered backing over him… ughhh makes my hair stand up just writing about it.
It’s too damn hot by the computer - over 90F
I wont be posting till our new air conditioner is installed and running
Between January 2000 and March 2005, 198 sex offenders in New York received Medicaid-reimbursed Viagra after their convictions. Those included crimes against children as young as 2 years old, he said.
Does anyone see numerous problems with this?? First off, WHY does Medicaid pay for Viagra. Sex is great but do my hard earned tax dollars need to pay for a 93 year olds hard on, or worse a RAPISTS?? It leads me to wonder how many of these convicted sex offenders committed crimes while under the influence of government subsidized pecker prescriptions. In my opinion that opens up a whole new world of lawsuits and I hope victims are rushing to lawyers at this very moment. Medicaid seems to pay for everything. I wonder if perhaps we can get them to reimburse us for our new a/c… Ours DIED yesterday and all the price quotes we are getting are well over $4,000. By this time next week, I may not have a pot to piss in but at least I’ll be doing the Pee pee dance in cool comfort.
People always choose to visit me at my most unorganized moments. The door bell rings as I just shampoo up my hair, the kids are screaming, toys are strewn everywhere, and the dogs are muddy, tromping through the house. It’s like the Antonio Bandares room in the movie “Four Room” The door swings open at the end of the day, Mira’s got a cigarette and a syringe, there’s a dead hooker, the room is on fire, Tessa’s got a bottle of XXX booze and The Hubster wants to know how my day was…. GAH!
I took Mira into the ENT to eliminate hearing difficulties as the source of her speech troubles. This, though, did not happen. Instead they jammed her ears full of plugs and wires, shut her in a booth alone and expected her to “clap when she hears the birdies” Obviously these folks aren’t up on 3 year olds. Mira shut down. It was like watching a computer get unplugged. She sat, frozen, staring at the floor. I could practically hear her thoughts - “What the hell has my mother done to me now? Why are they staring at me?” We tried to bring her back to life by flashing the new dolly I purchased to bribe her with. A smile slowly stretched across her face and she leapt to her feet - ripping the wires out of course…. I could see the audiologist was having conflicting feelings. I could tell from the set of her jaw that she wanted to reach in the booth and shake Mira to life. “So, you don’t often deal with children, do you?” … “No, is it that obvious?” I just smiled as I watched her ears flame red and listened to her talk in a high pitched voice that she thought would illicit a response form my daughter. Sometimes it’s nice to open the door and let someone else suffer the effects of my kids… I know I am evil.
I am bored. The kind of bored where you want to pick at your eyeballs, because ANYTHING is more interesting than what you are doing now. That boredom that makes EVERYTHING seems boring. Even that book you have been loving just seems second rate. Do you know what put me in this mood? Trying to watch the craptacular movie “Envy” sure Vapoorize is clever but the script should have been vapoorized before it ever started filming. The cast sounded so promising and all that emerged was one big Hollywood turd. I actually left the room 1/2 through the movie - I was THAT disgusted by it’s lack of entertainment.
Tuesday and Thursday 6 to 10 plus two Saturdays that are 8 to 5… Then I could test for my real estate license… HMMM $359.00 for pre licensing class and textbooks… What do I do, what do I do… The idea of a career is exhilarating on the level that no one would be talking to me about poopoo but I do so enjoy my kids… Would DH push me to use it?? Or could I have it on the back burner simmering. Is it something one can do part time? Can I make it through and actually attend class (last semester’s accounting class fell by the wayside in the midst of my mental issues). I enjoy helping friends find houses. The thrill of tracking down properties that are perfect is exhilarating… hmm what to do?
