The Toilet

A Meangful Dump

2005-02-17T10:12:00.000-06:00

I spent Valentine's Day at the mall ... trying to encourage people, who really believe they are above anything to do with the war, to donate for care packages for our troops. I made the mistake of setting up in the most extravagant mall in Houston ... the Galleria.

The toughest part of the whole thing was the 2 soldiers who came to the mall to keep me company. I have learned so much from these two young men. A man walked up to one of the soldiers and shook his hand and said "Thank you" and then went on to do his shopping.

I thought the soldier would appreciate the guesture... but, he was angry. his words: (excuse the language ... but I did not want to change a word)

"Fuck these people. Do they think shaking my hand means shit? They don't care about any of us. They are just trying to clear their conscience."

He has only been home 2 weeks and said he would much rather be back in Iraq ... where people appreciate everything they are doing, than here where people don't give a damn about anything but money.

I took pictures of another young man who is shipping out in a month ... so young, so innocent... I wanted to freeze that moment ... to keep him young and un-embittered forever...

It was a glimpse of the before and after that I feel I will experience with David when he returns from Iraq.

It was not all a bad day... I had people who walked up ... did not ask a question and started writing checks ... most people who stopped were very generous ... some wanted to know what they could have for free... (good grief ... they were wearing Prada ... and wanted a handout from me!)

It took me a few days to sit back and absorb it all... but a Vietnam vet helped me put things in better perpective...
Words from a Vietnam Vet

Quote:

I would like to have a word with that soldier and explain what my reception was when I arrived home.

Like people spitting in my face and calling me a baby killer or starting a fight with me as soon as they saw my uniform.

No fan fare or people clapping for us when we were seen in a airport. No one waiting for us when we arrived home.

You went to your base, received your discharge papers, put on your civilian clothes and lied to people when asked where you have been, just so you wouldn't have to put up with the grief people gave you for doing what you were ordered to do.

He needs to let one of the older vets make him realize how good he really has it. People do care now, unlike in the 60's and 70's.

We weren't even allowed to join VFW halls because it was called a police action and not a war. One of the older Vets called me a police pussy and I was told to get out of the hall and not to return.

I bet he would have a different attitude if he had to walk in these shoes for half a day.

We need to thank all of our memebers of the military past and present... ANYTIME ANYONE puts on a uniform ... and has to spend time trying to stay alive... It is an act of extreme bravery... War may get bad press, but it does not lessen the fact that these people are risking their Asses for us and should ALL be treated like the heroes they are. Can you tell this is a sore subject for me??? Big hugs... I will move on... step off my soap box for a moment... and go find a vet to hug! Today I would like to FLUSH Hatred... but I am sure it would clog the toilet.

Do I Dare Poop?

2005-01-25T11:33:00.000-06:00

We have been going on about Iraq and I have told many people I will not discuss Politics or Religion. Since I have gone into the 'Politic's of War" should I now go into 'Religion'????

LOLOLOLOLOL.... (That is me laughing hysterically)

Ummmmmm... No, I will not discuss religion. Not now, not ever. And believe me, it is not that I don't stand firm on my principals. I do... But, I will not put my view's up for scrutiny for anyone.

Am I a coward? Perhaps... but, I prefer not to give anyone the chance to rile my feathers in this area.

And... This is my OUT...hehehe... I could not possibly post about God while in the Toilet... For it would reek of Blasphemy!

I could, however go on and on about sin... lol...

Because for some reason... Sin, being a dirty thing, and Poop being dirty... they seem to mesh.

I won't speak of religion in general... but I can speak of the CRAP in religion??? Try and stay with me!

What I am really going for is "The sins in the name of Religion".

People who claim to lead others... and then sin in some of the most horrific ways. Pastors who ask for more and more donations and then buy a new Mercedes.

A friend of mine attends her church every Sunday. She fixes her little girls hair, walks to the bus stop, sits happily in church... and when her preacher passes the plate for donations, She gives 10 percent of her meager earnings. She is very poor. It is tough being a single Mom. But she knows in her heart she is doing what is right.

When the preacher asks for extra donations... she winces, knowing her youngest could really use some new shoes. She then reaches in her purse and pulls out another ten dollars for the plate.

For the preacher would not ask for her help if it was not God's will.

The preacher... in the name of (well, he said it was for a godly cause... but I know it does not work that way)... This man takes his wife on a cruise. It was necessary for the clarity of mind he needs to do the Lord's work!

Excuse me... but he just stole this woman's money in the name of religion. And this is FLUCKERED UP.

A co-worker of mine told me that he changed churches after witnessing his pastor 'hitting' on a teenage girl. (and, I don't mean slapping her around)

Some churches have installed ATM machines... Making it easier for people to make donations.

Some churches are accepting credit card payments...

How is this slogan??? "Charge Your Way to Heaven"

Some churches in Houston charge a membership fee... I don't know if this is just a way to collect more money... or as I fear, a way to keep the poor out.

It is no wonder that religion, as a whole, is falling to the way-side in our society.

When religion became a business... instead of a place to learn of LOVE (my favorite topic)... it became a place of SIN.

I did it... I discussed religion... and I said I would not... Does that make me a person who is a tad bit wishy-washy?

NO, I am just a woman... and we maintain the right to change our minds!

Today I flush all those who pretend to be doing the work of God... who are actually in the scam business.

Eating in the John

2005-01-24T09:56:00.000-06:00

When if ever is it ok to eat in the bathroom? If I am eating a delicious piece of pizza, and the urge to potty hits me... Do I put the pizza down, knowing it will be cold when I get out of the bathroom... or should I take it in with me... Hoping to finish it before I need to wipe my tush?

Ok, that is just sick... However, I never claimed to have a healthy mind!

All of that was just a lead for my topic... (No, not the need for port-a-potties around the buffet!)

It was "Food For Thought." And, if I am serving food in the Toilet... Well, you see where I was going? (If you are following me so far... be afraid!)

I just finished reading the last two posts in the Toilet... They were in regards to the Iraq "situation".

My oh my... Where do I stand on this?

I am not even sure I can say in one post.

First and foremost... Let it be known that I HATE the war. I hate that peoples lives are in turmoil. I hate that the United states is becoming more and more divided. I hate that young men and women, I am just getting to know are being shot at and way too many are dying. I hate that everyday, I must live with the knowledge that my son may not make it home alive.

We are told that we should not hate... and I agree... We should not hate each other ... But, I can not help but hate events... and the lack of control I have over them.

However, I cannot agree with the notion that we should just blow them all up. I cannot honestly say that the thought has not crossed my mind. However, in a moment of clarity, I realized that there are an estimated 25,576,000 people in Iraq. The latest count of insurgents was around 20,000. Shall we wipe out an entire race to eliminate the people who are causing harm.

If my math is correct (it has not been so sharp lately... Too many chocolate chip cookie breaks) that would be less than one insurgent per every 10,000 Iraqi citizens. Which you may still say is way too high of a number...

So let's go into the next issue. What is an insurgent?

The easy answer is: A bad guy, with a bad attitude, who kills innocent people who are trying to protect and rebuild the nation.

But here is more food for thought... Is the man, who's child has been kidnapped... The same man who has been told to kill Americans or his child will be murdered in front of the people. Is this man an insurgent? This man who would do, what he knows in his heart is wrong. Is this what we call an insurgent?

I have to ask... Because it is happening to the good people of Iraq. Their wives, their son's their daughters are being held, with promise of their freedom only upon an act of extreme violence against Americans.

Who are we to judge them? I know without a doubt in my mind... If someone was holding my child and threatening their very life, I (an extreme pacifist) would kill.... Knowing full well that I would more than likely be killed by in the process.

People ask, "Don't these people want to be free?" I feel that they do. But, they also want their children to live to see it! I do not condemn them for doing what is necessary to give their child a chance to come home. No, it is not right... But there are not a lot of things about war that are right, when we analyze all the decisions.

People ask, Why don't these people stand up?

They are standing up. The media chooses to show the ugly events. The media shows the people who are being executed for their part in helping America liberate them. Did anyone see on the news the little girl who sat in the middle of the road... Refusing to move when an American convoy came through. The commanding officer gave orders to go slowly around the young girl, so as not to frighten her. He then got out himself to see if she was ok. Only to see she was sitting next to an IED, that could have hurt or even killed the Americans in the convoy. This little girl did not want any of the Americans to be hurt. So, she risked her life. Her family may now be the targets of abuse. Who knows, they may not.

But... The media did not even tell this wonderful story... They do not tell of the thousands of Iraq's working side by side of our troops rebuilding schools and hospitals, or repairing the water systems and the damaged oil lines.

The media does not show the poor Iraqis who offer up part of their meager meals to soldiers who come through.

The media does not speak of the people in Iraq both young and old who risk their lives daily to report insurgent activities to the troops.

The Iraqi people want peace... But they also want to live. They are afraid... As I would be.

We, in America, can go to the store (in most neighborhoods) anytime we want... We can speak out against those who truly piss us off.. and we do, cuz they do!

We cannot condemn a nation who lives in fear. We cannot assume this is cowardice. For they are showing acts of courage daily. By stepping out into the sun and waving at the soldiers... They could be seen by those who hate our soldiers and drug out in the streets and beheaded.

But, they continue to wave.

I want nothing more than and end to this mess. However, to walk away now would mean instant death to thousands of good people.

I do not want my son to lose his life for this crazy war... I seriously don't think I could hold onto my last grasp of reality if he does not return. I don't want another young man or woman to lose their life over there.

I also want all the bad people to just be nice... What??? It is what I want!

"Can't we all just get along?"

Alas... Life is not that easy, for we all have different ideas of what is good and what is bad... and the best way to get through.

So, if all of my ranting has caused indigestion... You are digesting it on the Toilet... and all you need to do is FLUSH!!!!

An Unlucky Place to Dump

2005-01-21T12:30:00.000-06:00

Superstitious nut bags have me scratching my head.

How much sanity does it take to realize that having a black cat cross you path is less likely to cause bad luck, than having a a trailer home in Oklahoma?

And what is up with the number 13 nonsense? I know people who do not want to get out of bed if it is Friday the 13th. (I don't want get out of bed most days... But, will not limit my stay-in-bed days to just a few days a year. )

"Holy Cow Patties... Batman" (you can start any sentence with Holy... If you end it with Batman)

It does not take a brain surgeon to figure out superstitions are total nonsense... Yet, we catch ourselves avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk... Do we honestly think stepping on one will really break our Mother's back? Heck no... But, why take chances?

As for the people who are afraid to walk under a ladder... ummmm, no kidding, Sherlock. Walking under a ladder is not bad luck waiting to happen. It is an accident waiting to happen. And if I am on the ladder... and I see you walking under it, I will drop something on your head to get your attention... "Hey, you down there, wearing the 'I am an idiot' t-shirt... Get away from my ladder!"

We had a friend visiting our house. She was sitting on the floor playing with our four year old nephew. The young boy jumped up and ran in front of her, stepping between her legs. She looked at me and said, "Make him go back!" I was not sure what she meant, so I pulled the child aside and explained that he should not run in front of people like that. (he was as confused as I was for giving him the lecture)

This woman was now almost frantic... Screaming, "Someone grab that child and make him go back!" I looked at my husband... What could this woman be talking about??? Go back where???

My husband quickly picked up the child and carried him back across the woman's legs. WHAT in the name of all that has ever been written, is going on in my house???

The woman calmed down enough to treat me like an evil witch who was trying to cast a spell on her. You know the saying... "If looks could kill?" Well, I think she visually knocked me off.

My husband has since explained the various superstitions that are followed in the south. Oh my, how do people function?

I still like to irritate my husband by sweeping his feet with the broom. A BIG NO-NO! Should I even tell you what is done to ward off the curse if someone touches your feet with the broom???

I suppose it is only right... I would hate to be responsible for any harm that will come your way.... You must then spit on the straws of the broom!

The first time my hubby did this, I almost beat him with the broom. First of all... Don't EVER spit in my house!!! Second of all... You have a college education for heck's sake. How will spitting on my broom, causing mud streaks on my floor, save you?

There is also the spilling of salt... or is it pepper... That must be followed with tossing some over your shoulder... Again... I am going to strangle the person who came up with making a mess on my floor and wasting, as a solution to a superstition.

I could go on and on and on and on... People wake up... This silly nonsense must end...

I will answer the phone in a rain storm... I will go to work on Friday the 13th... Hey, not getting a full check would be darn right UN-lucky... and I will keep laughing at silly superstitious people...

Do, I think my little quirks are superstitious? Probably... I know this is telling on myself... But I have one.

I will not leave the house without putting on the bracelet my son sent me from the Middle East. This may sound just as silly as the above mentioned superstitions... To you.

However, I feel that if I am not wearing it, David will not be safe... As if, for some strange reason... The powers that be, will only protect him if I have it on... because, by not wearing the bracelet... I am not emitting enough love to keep him alive...

I know.... I am nuts... But, do you think I will chance fate on this issue?

So, basically superstitions are only hooey if they did not originate in my own mind.

By the way... NOT flushing the toilet is not only bad luck... It is also stinky!

Afraid to Poop

2005-01-19T13:20:00.000-06:00

Today I keep it brief (yes, I know how... no, I don't like to!!!)

Racial profiling is talked about non-stop. I am bombarded with e-mails full of anger, fear, and hatred.

I have compiled a list of why we should avoid people of Muslim beliefs... as suggested by those who let fear rule them.

Acts by Muslim male extremists between the ages of 17 and 40:

1.) In1968 Bobby Kennedy was shot and killed
2.) In 1972 at the Munich Olympics, athletes were kidnapped and massacred
3.) In 1979, the US embassy in Iran was taken over
4.) During the 1980's a number of Americans were kidnapped in Lebanon
5.) In 1983, the US Marine barracks in Beirut was blown up
6.) In 1985 the cruise ship Achille Lauro was hijacked and a 70 year old
American passenger was murdered and thrown overboard in his wheelchair
7.)In 1985 TWA flight 847 was hijacked at Athens, and a US Navy diver trying to rescue passengers was murdered
8.) In 1988, Pan Am Flight 103 was bombed
9.) In 1993 the World Trade Center was bombed the first time
10.) In 1998, the US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania were bombed
11.) On 9/11/01, four airliners were hijacked; two were used as missiles to take out the World Trade Centers and of the remaining two, one crashed into the US Pentagon and the other was diverted and crashed by the passengers. Thousands of people were killed
12.) In 2002 reporter Daniel Pearl was kidnapped and murdered

Nope, .....I really don't see a pattern here to justify profiling, do you?

OK... this really is not a joking matter...

We have a large number of Middle eastern families in our city... I am torn between "Loving our Brothers" as we are taught ... and wondering which of them might want to hurt me and my fellow Americans.

I have cried with a young Iranian woman when her 5yr. old was spit on at a soccer game shortly after the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks.

I have watched as people quit going to certain stores... the stores that were owned by people of "Middle East" appearance.

I have spoke with gas station attendants, who were afraid for their lives ... they were able to escape the torture of the Iraqi leaders, but must now worry about being shot at by angry Americans.

and...
I have stood in line at the post office ... and became extremely uneasy, when a man of Middle Eastern descent came in carrying a funny looking package.

I have come to the conclusion... God will take me when it is my time to go... Until that day, I must treat everyone as my brother or sister.

If I must die at the hands of an extremist... Let it not be while I am on the TOILET!

Who Moved the Outhouse?

2005-01-18T11:31:00.000-06:00

Back in the day.... Way back... I will not admit to first hand knowledge... But, I have heard the stories... Outhouses were moved around as a practical joke!

As a youngster, I would have helped with something as amusing as this... As an adult, I would be looking for someone to strangle, for even thinking such an ugly thought... For, to mess with something as sacred as the place I dump, would be unthinkably evil. I would never consider hiding a teenager's Playstation... and in return... I would hope they would never mess with my toilet!

As the days go by, I find myself going off on tangents more and more... Forgetting what I was initially planning on saying or doing.

I am finding it tougher to remember the simple things... The things I do every day.

Five times a week I come into the office and turn off the alarm... Five times a week I leave the office and set the alarm... The code is a simple four digits... I would tell you what they are if I could remember.

This morning I set the alarm off... I could not for the life of me remember the code. The alarm company called and asked for the ***password***. The very same password I set up five years ago. (Oh heck... It has been five years... I have never had to use it... How in the name of little bunny pebbles am I suppose to remember this???)

I can't remember a code I use 10 times a week for 52 weeks... For 5 years.... Over 2,600 times I have entered the code... But today... It may just have well of been the winning lottery numbers. (which I will never know...)

10 minutes later.... (the alarm is still blaring) the police show up... and I have to explain my mental condition to them... I explain... I have the dang gummed key to the from door... I have the combination to the safe... The passwords to the computers... The owners home and cell phone numbers... I have everything I need to prove I should be here... EXCEPT for the alarm code.

The officer asks me who usually unlocks the doors and turns the alarm off.... Ummmmm ME! and then he gives me this look... I am not sure if it meant "This woman is a nut-job... She cannot remember the code that she set up and used for over five years." or "This woman is a nut-job for thinking I buy her story."

By then... I was so shook up... That I started to laugh hysterically... (mind you the alarm is still blaring) I told the confused officer that I needed a cup of cocoa... and asked if he would like one too. He replied, "Ma'am, Im gonna have to ask you to wait outside with me until we have confirmation of your story."

"Oh JOY!"

I told him, if he would allow me to call the owners. They would vouch for me.

Should I be concerned when he talks into his little 'mike thingy' and asks for backup? Good grief... I know I do not look dangerous. ... Do I?

I have nothing in my hands... cuz, I sat my purse on my desk as I walked in. What could possibly have this man concerned for his safety?

And then just as I was preparing to be frisked and hauled away, the alarm is turned off. An eerie quiet that was broken by the ringing of the phone...

NOTE to all who may be oblivious to the ways of the Police:
Never turn away from an officer and go to answer the phone! Especially if the same said officer is not sure that you are who you say you are... and the same said officer has previously called for backup.

Thankfully, all that happened was... He screamed FREEZE!!! I became a replica of a statue. (not sure how long I could stand on one foot...) If I fall over will he Tase me?

Oh my, how in the heck do I get into these situations... I knew I should have come into work late today. Really, really late... like tomorrow!

WE both stood there... I am afraid to move... and I think he is afraid I might try and over-power him... With what???? I am wondering... Maybe he is frightened by my wit!

This could have turned out ugly... Uglier... But, I was saved by a co-worker who pulled up in time to witness my demise. (He now has ammo to use against me...) And he will use it again and again and again, until I find something on him... For that is how it works here!

The officer read me the riot act... A 30 minute lecture on following orders... blah, blah, blah... Oh heck.... Just take me to jail, but don't make me listen to any more! (I jest... I have no desire to go to jail today... Check back with me tomorrow)

The code is not the only thing that has slipped from my memory... Over the weekend I lost my car. I always make a mental note of where I park... I swear someone must have picked up my car and moved it. I have an alarm on it... I tried hitting the panic button... (cuz, I was really panicking by now)

and then I turned to my last resort... (Only to be used for dire emergencies...) I called my hubby to let him know the car must be stolen. I told him I had walked up and down every row of parked cars, the car was not here. I even explained that I tried to set off the alarm.

Oh... If I could only take back that phone call... For at that moment,the light bulb, called my brain, lit up. I was not driving the car that had an alarm... and I was standing a mere three cars down from my car! My hubby said, "Honey come home... Right now!"

and... I am finding things put in weird places... I found the open jar of pickle relish in the cupboard with the plates???

I found the remote control in the refrigerator?!?!

and I find myself... Standing in the middle of a room... Wondering what in the world am I looking for.

I have heard that stress will cause memory lapses... So... If I potty in the closet... Forgive me. (I will clean it up, if I remember why I went to get the mop.)

But, I am in denial... someone must have moved the Toilet!

The Toilet is plugged up

2005-01-14T16:06:00.000-06:00

I have called a specialist... Hope to have the problem fixed by Tuesday....

Please feel free to continue dumping your terds... I will be back in later to clean up any that spill onto the floor!

Happy Crappy weekend!

A Big Pile of Trophy Poop

2005-01-13T09:01:00.000-06:00

Shooting at Bambi has always been a sore spot for me...

The rugged Rambo-wannabe, Davie Crocket impersonators, who go hunting today... For the most part are not in need of food. Nor are they in need of a Buffalo hide to keep them warm. They hunt for sport.

And, In Texas... They call it "Hunting" but there is no real hunt for the animal they kill.

Let me go back and explain hunting in Wyoming, where I grew up... And then explain how it is done here in Texas.

In Wyoming (unless things have changed drastically) you apply for a permit to hunt in a particular area. Only so many permits or licenses are issues each season for each area. You then hike into the area, and search the hills, mountains,and valleys. You may hike in the snow, camp in the rain, sit for hours even days... all the while hunting (as in searching) for a deer.

You may have to repeat this over and over every weekend, or during the week if you are lucky enough to be granted time off work. Irregardless of when you go... The event is challenging. And there are some hunting seasons when you may come home empty handed. DARN!

and... This is how they HUNT in Texas... You make friends with someone who owns a large amount of land, or.... You pay thousands of dollars for a deer lease. (permission to hunt on someone's property)

The person who own's the property sets up deer feeders. The fancy ones are made to drop feed at the same time each day. Therefore, training the deer to come eat at the same time each day. The property owner will also set up deer stands... These are wooden shacks, usually elevated, for the hunters to sit in and wait for the deer to come by for their daily feeding. When the deer come to the feeder to eat, they are picked off by the MIGHTY HUNTER!(what a crap head)

How in the heck can this be called hunting? It should be called entrapment... Which I believe is illegal in the state of Texas.

And then the proud hunter... Has his trophy head mounted and put on the wall. Now we can all see what a rugged individual he is! Oh My... I feel so safe, so well protected! For this same pile of donkey dung, who so proudly killed the helpless animal, could surely provide for us with the 50lbs of deer sausage he brought in! Our ancestors would be impressed that we have continued such a needed tradition.

You may as well lure the deer into a pen and then pick them off one by one. Oh heck... Why don't you ask a rancher if you can just shoot one of his cows. You will probably pay a lot less and the meat tastes a lot better!

I suggest if your testosterone level is that high... Maybe you should target practice at insurgents... or something that would, at the very least, be worthy of our admiration for your vast skills with a rifle!

Oh Mighty Hunter... I have something you can mount... You will find it floating in the TOILET!

Our Most Important Poop!

2005-01-11T11:37:00.000-06:00

Breaking News.... These words interrupt what you are doing... Draw your eyes and ears to the screen... Dinner is left boiling over on the stove top... Children are left to find their own way down from the top of the refridgerator...(another "Don't Ask" topic)... And all phone conversations are stopped instantly...

We seem to stop mid-stream... Giving full attention to the important message that we are about to hear. I wish the cameras could reverse the view... Going into homes across America when the media utters the words, Breaking News.

We could watch all of America freeze in synchronized worry. (or at least morbid curiosity)

They have my full attention... and what in the name of blissful diaper poop do they choose to enlighten me with??? Oh My Goodness... Stop the presses... Carlos Beltran only has 30 more hours to decide if he will sign with the Astros!

All I could think of .... Was.... y'all are full of hot stinky rhino farts. Seriously. No, I mean Seriously... When he signs with whomever he chooses to sign with... Then and only then will it be news. (not breaking news, mind you... Merely news)

Breaking News... Means to the rational individuals.... That something of imminent importance has just happened or is about to happen... Something that has changed or will change the existence of life as we know it...

To me Breaking News would be something along the lines of the train wreck that spilled chlorine gas into the air or the Tsunami ... For this I would stop what I am doing.

For the record... Carlos signed with the Mets (in case it was an issue that you would have interrupted the baby's diaper changing)

Don't get me wrong. I love sports. Probably more than is considered normal for a woman. My hubby's friend are envious because I never whine when he wants to watch a ball game and I know all the rules... Such as:

1.) No asking questions until time out or the quarter ends.
2.) Never bad mouth his team... LOL... Unless they are playing my team!
3.) The refs, umps, and officials all are incompetent Goober-Heads

And, I look up interesting stats that I can use on him during the commercials.

HOWEVER... Sports "Almost-Thinking-About-Signing-With-Someone" events... Are NOT Breaking News.

While I am bashing the media's bent perception of our views.... Who the heck chooses which stories the stations should air? In Houston we have 5 stations that we flip back and forth between at news time. All five stations are playing the same "This does not pertain to Houston" News story... And they all start their broadcast with the statement.

"Our Top Story for Today"... and then proceed to tell us that Michael Jackson has an alien baby that was mothered by his housekeeper's sister, while she was bringing her son to play. It is all garbage. Real events are happening all around the city... Events I call "News".

Here are some headlines in the Houston Chronicle (the local newspaper)... all of which I did not see reported on the television news:

1.) Robbery suspect found dead after gun battle
2.) Beating death over beer bottle thrown at car
3.) Police say man admits to part in woman's abduction
4.) Five men face felony charges in dog fight
and
5.) Quarrel over price of drugs lead to woman's death

Take your pick... The Newspaper is loaded with... NEWS

While the TV is loaded with CRAP...

1.) The Carlos Beltran, non-news event
2.) Making of Pres. Bush's cowboy hat for his Inauguration
3.) Who's designing Laura Bush's dress
4.) The ongoing... Beat it in the dirt ... Story of Andrea Yates (please do not show me any more... She killed her kids for crap sake... She has problems... Do not show me that she may be able to post bail... Do not show me any more interviews of her friends, the people who moved into the neighborhood after the event, her mother, her attorney, her husband, her ANYTHING ... Do not show me any more Andrea Yates!)

I want to know if there is a rise in the number of robberies in my neighborhood, if it is safe to take the Southwest freeway home, are they closing the factory that makes Zoloft. This is news.

As for Beltran... I will do as I do with all sports trades... Wait for the season to begin and see which team the players/coaches have all been moved to.

Send your TRIVIA NEWS STORIES to Entertainment Tonight... Let them decide if is interesting enough to include in their program.

... and, I would like to Flush Bush's cowboy hat in the Media toilet... Where the story belongs.

My Sh** Don't Stink

2005-01-10T09:33:00.000-06:00

Is it odd that I am uncomfortable typing curse words? It is not that I think I am too pure... I may have used the word sh** on an occasion or two... It just looks so crass in bold print.

I am a closet "Potty Mouth". Seriously... When I am alone, I can belt them out just like one of the guys in a high school locker room! (I will not even mention what the girls locker room sounds like... Would hate to ruin our image.)

However, when I am around other people... I cannot spit out the vile words. Have you ever been extremely angry at someone or something... And your scream out... "Go to Heck"...

It just does not have the same effect... Unless you are attempting to smooth over the situation with hysterical laughter!

Last night, I was so very ticked at my beloved hubby... (I can love him and want to put a pillow over his head, while he sleeps, all at the same time... Right?)

anyway... I was thoroughly pissed off... And I wanted to yell something to the effects of "You STUPID (which is a really really bad word in our house... Worse than profanity) - M.F."

However, it came out... "You are such a Fart Head!"... Close... But it did not carry the same punch. I know... My mouth shows my mental maturity.

It is so much easier to make up later when you chose ever-so-slightly less ugly names to yell out. Such as Butt Wipe.... Or a favorite of mine... cuz my hubby is so macho... Is Girlie Man.

Our arguments would make for an interesting sit-com. We are both extremely talented at the adult version of "You touched me first" routine. My favorite type of argument is the silent treatment game... Because, I personally love the quiet... And I always win. "What, you aren't going to talk to me? Does that mean I don't have to listen to you anymore? Oh, Goody!!!"

Back to our delightful argument last night... Like most of them... We cannot remember what the "mental bash" was all about... For the record, I was most likely right... LOL

However, Mr. J. Threw out one of his favorites... "You think your sh** don't stink!"

I cannot stay mad when he says this. I am such a smart a** ... "Of course my sh** does NOT stink! And I can prove it... Come kiss my A**!"

Ok... Do you see how our arguments go? We are both laughing like the loonies we are.

Some things should never be uttered in a serious argument. (If you want to win!)

Such as... "I'm not as dumb as I look!" My reply has to be ... "I have to be honest with you... You look pretty darn slooooooooooooooow to me."

To which he will say... "You are such a smart a**"

And I always reply... "You would not have married me if I was a dumb a**"

For the record... I am not a fighter... It takes way too much energy. That is not to say, I wouldn't stand up for issues that I believe in... If you want to take me on, there are a few things to consider.

1.) Do you have any good comebacks - and can you sling them fast? I grew up in a family of WAY too many smart alecks.

2.) Is the issue one that may touch a sore spot with me? A childish issue will have me insulting you... A Raw-to-the-Nerve issue will have me looking for a place to hide your body. (There is a movie, where the group buried people, that disagreed with them, under the tomato plants...)

3.) Can you out last me in the event of the Silent Treatment? I have no problem tuning out ignorance...

A favorite quote of mine is -

"Never argue with an idiot. They drag you down to their level, then beat you with experience."

I am not really flushing today... Just telling the world that I won the argument last night... Whatever it was... And for the record... I don't sit and analyze the aroma of my body's recycling products.

I flush before the intoxicating scent reaches me!

Mental Constipation

2005-01-07T10:55:00.000-06:00

I am self- diagnosed ... it is official (in my mind)... I am suffering from an extreme case of Mental Constipation.

My Dementia is in actuality nothing more than a psychogenic state of being, brought about by an acute obstruction, leaving me with a limited intellectual ability of excretion.

In "Layman's" terms... I am full of poop and can't figure out how to put it in words... letting it ooze out of my head... freeing up space for more crap...

I will need to perform further analysis to determine the cause of the blockage. Preliminary investigations have allowed me to narrow down the culprit to a few prime candidates.

1.) My new diet... I have cut the term "dessert" from my nutritional regime vocabulary... I will get back to you upon further study... but, I believe science will find that the lack of sugar, chocolate, and butter (preferably mixed together) is a direct cause of mental break down in our society... The sooner the FDA gets to the bottom of this issue... the sooner I can eat the good stuff guilt free.

Fat Food = Happy Dance

Back off Mr. J. I did not say I would be content sitting around the house in my moo-moo, with you rubbing my feet and feeding me truffles. I mean seriously, who would find contentment in such a frivolous lifestyle?

2.) Cutting Back on Internet Time... I have a new found respect for the pain of fighting an addiction. I will no longer scrunch up my face at the Heroin Addict, who is trying to dry out. Oh, sure you can say PC addiction and Heroin addiction are not even in the same ball park.

But, have you tried to go a week without turning on your life support system? Don't give me the "I need it for work" ... or "I am waiting on an important Email from my child" line...

Get up. Turn the Computer off... and Leave it off for one week. (I dare you!!!)

You may be strong for a while... but there are moments of weakness... You have just finished dinner, the kids are tucked into bed, there is nothing on TV worth watching....

and the PC is calling out to you... Sending subliminal messages...

Your fingers begin twitching... Your mind begins formulating reasons you need to look something up... You walk by the desk...pacing, nervously back and forth...

But, you are strong... it has only been 8 hours... Only 160 more hours to go!

If this is not one of the major factors in my emotional conflict situation... then, I am perhaps, just NUTS... and I am not ready to give in to that prognosis.

3.) Our Beloved President... The very man of whom I am entrusting with my son's life.

Oh my, Oh my... this man is going to destroy, through inflicted apprehension, my last three brain cells.

I wrote Mr. Bush a letter some time back... and filed it away, never to be read by the sane... However, I feel the toilet is a nice place to flush this issue out of my system.

I have discussed the letter with my son, who is mentioned in the letter. He said, "Go ahead and share the letter. I have everyone in my unit convinced you are insane."

I am so flattered!

So here is the letter...

Dear George,

How are you doing? How is the family? And, how is that crazy situation in Iraq going for you George? A few people have told me that I really should not refer to you by your first name. They do not understand the special relationship between you and me. You know what I mean. Our special connection... You are on a crusade and I have provided a valuable tool, my son! As I see it, in the "Blood for Oil" crusade, our bond is much more personal than most people understand.

You and I have a brother/sister relationship. Although we do not hate each other, the view for the outside, looking in, may appear that way to the naive. They see you cheering for the war... "We must avail... no matter the cost to human life... we cannot let those crazy Muslim-lead-barbarians chase us out of THEIR country... we cannot appear weak... We have God on our side!"

(And they see me ... cringing with every word that comes out of your mouth... Because, as your sis, I hate when you give the impression that we are illiterate country bumpkins. Wait, that was a family dig... just between us...)

What they really see, is a mother, crying out for an end to this ludicrous stand in Iraq.

They do not see you as I do, George. They do not know that you are a terrible chess player. Strategies are not your strong point. It just takes too durn much concentration. George, be a good sport. When you are losing a game, you cannot throw the board across the room... Nor can you change the rules. As an adult, you can admit a mistake was made, stand up, straighten the pieces, and walk away.

I would like to present a challenge to you. I know you like a good challenge... We all do here in Texas!

You, George W. Bush vs my son... One on one... Nothing too strenuous... (nothing physical, my son has an age advantage over you) but, a political debate. That is your area of expertise, is it not? The rules will be quite simple: Neither man will be allowed any coaches/advisors/and or speechwriters to assist them with their answers. Just a straightforward, honest to goodness debate. The winner (my son... he will wax your a**) will be given an honorable discharge from the Army. The loser (sorry George... I still love ya) will put on a uniform and fight the cause that he so fondly clings.

Please take a moment to consider the challenge.

You, George are a generous man. You give without hesitation to the poor countries you are destroying. Your kind heart humbles me. I am sure that God, the same one you mention on many occasions, is aware of your very actions. I pray for you George.

Sincerely,

Your Sis

What??? I deal with stress my way... You deal with stress your way... and my way is to FLUSH! (Is there a better mental laxative?)

Who Left the Seat Up???

2005-01-03T10:40:00.000-06:00

Why do I ask??? We all know it was not me!

Mr. J. Why do you mess with me? It must be for personal pleasure... But, I swear...

Let me back up and explain my pain...

The battle over whether the seat should be left up or down has been an ongoing WAR. This is an issue I will not let die.

I have long since given up on the toilet paper thing...
It is no longer so important to me if the paper falls over the top (as it should) or falls down the back of the roll... Or if it is inside out or upside down... I have even quit complaining about the empty roll you leave for me... Because you will now leave a full roll sitting on the counter within reach... (most of the time I can reach it without waddling to the other side of the room, with drippies running down my leg.) What more could I ask for?

Ummmm... Could you PLEASE... PLEASE... PLEASE... Be consistent on the toilet seat thing?
We have three bathrooms in our house. I am truly blessed. I never have to wait in line! All I am asking is would you please leave the seat down in the bath room off of the bedroom... You know the one... The very same bath room I painted bright pink, to scare you away! The bath room with the potpourri and candles. The bath room that has towels that you are not suppose to use. My little space (that screams of femininity)

In the middle of the night, I know it is silly for you to traipse down the hall in the dark. Feel free to potty in the Pink room! However, you will need to follow these simple rules...

"If you Miss,
When you Piss....
It'll be my Ass
You Have to Kiss."

(I am taking up poetry as a second income...)

Seriously... The seat has to be left down ... ALL the TIME! I have fallen into the toilet in the middle of the night for the last time!

And the one time you did put the seat down... Oh, that was bad!

You realize, I feel in the dark for the seat, and lower it before I sit down. In my sleep-walking stupor I stumbled into the wall, lowered what I thought was the seat, and proceeded to potty on the lid. I realized mid-stream (must have been the warm stream of pee I was sitting in, that ran down my legs and sat in a puddle at my feet) my mistake! For you Mr. J. had finally decided that you were tired of my whining and put the seat down for me. Gahhhhh!

The middle of the night is not the time to decide to do things my way! Please show me your new talents during the daytime hours... When I am almost focused.

I don't mind sharing my sanctuary with you... But, you need to put the seat down. Don't start with me... I know there are more important issues in life. Can I have my little corner... Where everything is exactly how it should be???

If you give me this, I will quit with the dirty socks in the middle of the floor nag.

For the record, I picked them up after the four day test... I know you knew I was a bit ticked about them... However you are much better than I at the game of "See Who Can Out Last The Other."

I would never make it in a torture chamber if they knew this weakness of mine... Place me in a room with a couple of empty pizza boxes, three half full cans of soda, toss a couple of dirty shirts in the corner, and leave the TV on. A man (aka my hubby) would sit down and watch TV... I would have to pick up the clutter first...

In Dear Mr. J's defense.... he is not a slob... (He just plays one in my world) just kidding... We just have different things that annoy the daylights out of us.

I will let ALL of the other issues slide (for now) if you leave my bathroom clean, toilet paper within reach, and the seat down!

Just try and leave the seat up in here! (Ya know if he reads this... I will forever be falling in the bowl at home.)

But... I will take my chances and ***FLUSH***

A FREE Window for Your Outhouse!!!

2004-12-31T10:41:00.000-06:00

That is right... For a limited time... We will give you a free window for your outhouse! You will have to pay nothing! You can sit for hours, looking thru your very own window!

What exactly does FREE mean???

Our parents have taught us that nothing is free... Yet, I am bombarded with free offers at every corner ...

Buy a hamburger and order of fries ... and we will give you a free Coke! Ooooh goodie!!!!
One hamburger - $2.85
One order of fries - $1.45
One soda (yes, that is how we say it here.... SODA) - Free!!!
I have checked this out... The cost to restaurants for a soda breaks down like this... 1-cup $0.03, Syrup w/Carbonation (enough to fill a 32 ounce cup) $0.06.

So, for spending $4.30, you will give me... Absolutely free of charge... a 9 cent soft drink! Gosh almighty.... I am humbled by your generosity! Tell you what... Keep the soda... Give me a three cent cup of water... and deduct the six cents from my burger....

I told a young man working at a fast food establishment to do that... and he stared blankly at me...

Want to really mess with the youth of today? Go to McDonald's ... They will super-size any meal for a small fee... And tell them you would like a "Happy Meal" and Super Size it! I know I am awful... However, if the sign reads... We will super-size any meal... They need to honor it... A Happy Meal is a meal. (well, in principal)

Back to the free window on the outhouse... I received an email for a free "moving waterfall screen saver"! It looked pretty cool... and I wanted to try it out.

I downloaded the screen saver... and was told I needed to download the free yahoo tool bar... OK... I downloaded the tool bar... and was told I need to fill out an online survey... Ok... I filled out the survey and was told I needed to pick at least one offer from a list of promotional give-aways... ok????... Do you see a pattern???

I picked what I assumed to be the least obtrusive offer.... and read thru the list of required fields to fill out.

You know the basics.... Name, Date of Birth, Address, Email Address, Phone Number, Spouse's Name, Social Security Number... and permission for a Physician to stop by and take a blood sample and insert an ear tag for future monitoring of your whereabouts.

Gosh sakes... I wanted a screen saver! Not a new car...

If it is free... Do I need to give the names of co-signers?

We filled out one of the So-Called Freebie forms a while back... They were offering a free Shaq jersey... (can't pass on that right???)

For weeks, I was bombarded with sales calls for free credit cards... I asked a women. "If the card is free... Does that mean I do not have to pay your company, for any purchases I make with it?" Of course she said it does NOT mean that... I told her I have a credit card that already insists I pay then for my purchase... I don't need another.

I received a call from a life insurance company.... It went like this...
"Is this Mr. J?"
"No, this is Mrs. J."
"Well, Mr J. Wanted to purchase a life insurance policy from our company." (my mind begins to spin.... What have I done to have Mr J wanting to take out more insurance... Dinner was not that bad last night...)

I asked the rep... "Does he want to take out additional insurance on himself or for me? Cuz, if it is a policy for me... I need to know. Do I need to be nicer to my husband?"

The rep was so quiet, I thought he had hung up the phone....

He hesitated too long, and I hung up the phone!

One free jersey... (that, I should add, never arrived...) and all we had to pay... was the price of our privacy...

Our parents have taught us that Nothing worth having is free .... I suppose this includes a window on the outhouse.

Is It Poop or Just Bad Gas?

2004-12-30T11:50:00.000-06:00

Is it real or is it Memorex? (Old commercials as well as old songs... always creep in at the oddest time...)

I was thinking the other day, about something... can't seem to recall just what... but, it had to be something important... for I would not waste my time on trivial B.S.

Anyway, out of nowhere, the memory of an old commercial flashed across my brain. It was a beautiful woman (they always are) Being chased by a troll looking perve of a man (they always are) ... Anyway... I cannot for anything remember what they were advertising...

Where am I going with this... Couldn't tell ya...

That is where my mind is today... If I were to pick an analogy of my brain (besides the usual crap storage bin) my brain would be an electrical outlet. Today, I have one too many extension cords plugged in... and I may blow a fuse before the day is out...

So try and follow me... I am typing slow... for all who may read slow.... (ok, that was just too funny...)

I had a topic today... I just remembered when I read the title!

My Vent is the Media
They are such an easy target... Are they telling us lies... or are they reporting facts???

Back in the day... way back... I was under the impression that news was factual. Cut and dry. It was all so simple. Reporters went out, discovered the truth, and reported back to us.

I gained knowledge based on the assumed fact that they would not mislead me. Oh I am such a gullible nincompoop (My spell check could not find this word... It is now added to my list!!!)

My spell check now recognizes such words as poopie, crapper, and terdbucket...

All terms that fit the modern media!

If I open the Newspaper, turn on the News, or peruse the Internet... I am not looking for fiction. I can find entertainment for my brain at the library, at the movie theatre, or at my office.

I want facts... I don't have time to sift thru the Crap, tossing the "This should be news, but is really just a great story. It is almost real-but really not." to the throw out in the compost heap pile.

If news is in fact NOT the truth... 100 percent, FACTUAL... then a disclaimer should preclude the story... Do not put in little tiny letters at the bottom... "This is an opinion... based on complete biased kitty litter clumps."

Tell me up-front that I am reading a story, not news.

I would love to hear at the beginning of FOX News (yes, I am picking on them today) the following announcement:

The news story you are about to hear is based on the opinions of some of the people who think it might have something to do with the truth. We have made the story much more interesting, by adding several colorful interviews with people who have no idea what happened or why. However, their viewpoint is interesting to those of us who edited today's program. Please enjoy the STORY, and remember it is just a STORY.

I will then be able to sit back... and decide if the story is entertaining... because... it is surely not factual.

And, when I in turn, tell my hubby what I heard/read today... He will not roll his eyes at me... thinking his poor wife will be sending our belongings to the underprivileged children at Harvard.

What??? The children enrolled at Harvard are not starving??? College is expensive... They could be hungry... What??? (Ok... I really did not send them a check... But, I would have...)

I am not all that naive... I did not believe Britney Spears was a virgin... Nor, did I believe that Bin Laden is holed up at a Saudi Palace... We all know he is kickin it on the Crawford Ranch.

And because this post is now on the Internet.... it MUST be fact!

Today I flush the media.... and get out my comic books... they would never mislead me!

Stealing From My Dung Heap

2004-12-29T09:19:00.000-06:00

Today... this is not a vent...

It is an all out attack on the No-Good pieces of elephant droppings that take things from sweet people, such as myself...

I go to work way too many days out of the year... I feel guilty if I take a day off to go to the doctor... who needs to take time off just because their face is so swollen that they can't see? Just drive me in, guide me through the door and turn on my pc... I can type with my eyes closed... (it may read something like this: kelwi thod yelaldjt... ) Well anyway, I only take time off from work when my loving husband insists.

My husband also works... can you believe it... Two people, living in the same house, both holding down a real job. Almost unheard of! Actually, many families in America are doing the same thing... We are not special. (not in that way... lol)

So why can't other people do the same thing. Get their lazy a**es out of bed, pull away from the video games, and step out into the world of the employed.

You know who I am talking about... Not the homeless, living in the streets. Not those who are between jobs, who are diligently searching for a way to pay the bills. And, not those who are disabled or retired.

I am talking about those evil cow-patty, maggot-leaching, happy to sponge off society, crap heads. Oh, I know... I am judging.

But, I am ticked. Ticked is really too mild a term... you will have to imagine the words I really mean. Have you ever been so mad, that you could not even come up with a good curse... That is the stage I am at... Sounds funny. "Too mad to cuss!!!"

But, Darn-Nabbit... Why are you taking the things we work for. If you need food, knock on the door. We will feed you. If you need shelter... knock on the neighbors door... just kidding. Knock on our door... we will help you find shelter. If your babies are sick, we will help you buy medicine...

We are just that kind of people... Like so many other people... We have, and we share.

But, how does breaking the window on my hubby's car and stealing a stereo justify your needs? The funny thing about this crappy ordeal is... The stereo did not even work. It was the original equipment that was in my hubby's 73 Porsche. He could have bought a new system (one that played music), but he kept the broken system for sentimental reasons. It is like me keeping my old red sweat shirt... the one covered in paint splatters, torn at the elbow, and looks better in-side-out. (I love that shirt Mr J! Don't you dare trash it... I am serious!)

The theivery does not stop there... people are stealing from each other day and night... not just monetary items. More importantly, they are stealing sentimental items. How can you replace the letters you had from a loved one... that were in your purse that is ripped from your arm?

Or, the idiots who are now in the habit of stealing the "Support our Troops" magnets off of cars. Hmmm... Support our troops - steal a magnet... catchy huh?

Or how about the category of You will surely Burn in Hell... Those who steal from churches. I would love to be at the Gates fo Heaven... while you are trying to explain this to God.

Or, the sh** piles who steal from the elderly... Our parents, our grandparent, our veterans... being robbed by care-takers. You need a swift kick in the... well, in the head.

I have no tolerance for thieves...

If I can drag my tired behind out of bed and to the office... then surely you, who are so young and can run so fast from the law, can get a job too.

Are you too proud to flip burgers or too lazy? I'm asking because... if worse came to worse, I would take orders at Mickey D's before I would take money from the collection plate.

Perhaps it boils down to principals...

I wish I could gather all the little thug-wanna-be's in my neighborhood and give them all a flush!

The Web Crapper

2004-12-28T11:46:00.000-06:00

Before I begin... let me clarify... I am not a nice person... but, I play one in real life... Deep down, I have ugly evil thoughts... I call it my "Good Angel" vs my "Evil Devil" aka split personality...

So, in order to keep balance in my life... You may see more of the nasty me... For I have vowed to only show the nice side to the real world.... and you are in here visiting the pseudo version of me.... or perhaps, this is the real me... and the version I project to the public is a fraud. Hmmm... something for me to ponder... Deep thinking on the toilet material...

On the outside I am saying in my sweetest voice, "Why sure, I'll get that file for you, right away!"

On the inside I am saying, "Why sure, you dumb a**. I have nothing more important to do... except straighten out the three accounts you screwed up, refigure your proposal, and calm down the client that you insulted. I would be happier than a fresh pile of dog crap under your chair to get up and get you that file... the one that is sitting on your filing cabinet where you left it... And while I am in there... you can kiss my (&$%$%&$*@$$"^$$*@%$$) "

I just noticed that I tend to use the dollar sign alot in my censored cursing... Freud may think this is subliminal... I know it is just bad typing.

In regards to my post title... I have found that the internet is a great way to express the side I try to keep hidden. And, I am not the only one... Many tell me they are really quiet, shy indiviuals... That I would never believe how sweet they are in person! If I am any indication of this trend... OMG there are many people out there... all with an evil twin... LOL.... Brings new meaning to the old question... "Can Timmy come out to play?"

Every once in a great while... when I am feeling a tad ignorant (it does not happen often!) I will read a news story on the internet that moves me enough to open the chat about it link. I don't say a word... just go in and see what people think about the event.

Do you know what people are chatting about in the "Tsunami Claims More Than 44,000 Lives" chat? They are chatting about birth control, female subordinance, spanking... (I think this is in regards to parenting... but it could be a sexual topic... I'm not sure... I cleared out) I was in the topic room for almost ten minutes. Not once did the discussion of aid to the survivors, sadness for the victims, or fear of disease come up.

When we were struck with the catastrophic event we have titled "9/11", we were met with world wide support. When it happens somewhere else we utter... "Gosh, they shouldn't live so close to the sea" That is as moronic as telling me I would not have a chocolate addiction if I moved farther from the grocery store.

Over 44,00 killed... It numbs me... I know... This is the internet... we can say whatever we want... But, Hog Sh**. When people need our help, we should step up. If we don't have the monetary means, then the least we can do (the very least) is show a sign of support thru our words.

We use the internet to say what we want... with total disregard to who we offend! Don't ya just love it! I don't know these people... They don't know me... I can tell the world to just pluck off! and they can tell me to bite myself...

And in the real world... we smile politely and get up and get the file.

A Fresh Coat of Paint on the Outhouse

2004-12-27T09:33:00.000-06:00

If I put a fresh coat of paint on the outhouse... It will give the appearance of a better place to crap. However, I know deep down... it is the same. Maybe it will appease the majority, who are tired of looking at the dung heap. This is tough on me... for I don't like change... and I really do enjoy rolling in the manure pile, that I refer to as my thoughts!

Today I am posting, for all to see... (and to laugh at) ... my New Year's Resolutions! I know... this is supposed to be saved for New Years day. However, I am not quitting my bad habits cold turkey. I need to edge into this gradually... The shock might cause catastrophic events. I, personally, do not want to see a riot of hysterical poopers... searching for the usual pile of cow patties... that I LOVE to toss... totally uncaring of who they splatter on...

Here goes... My UN-official list of Resolutions (my attorney has reviewed... and I will not be held liable for posting... however... there is a chance that I can be held in contempt.... of good taste!)

1.) I vow to be a nicer person... in general. I mean, I am already such a sweetie... (Mr. J... hush... what they don't know... they don't need to know!) I am serious. I will no longer bleep out obscenities to the "fat-head" who steals my parking place. I will need to practice deep breathing rituals for this. I will no longer slander the mental-micro-midget I share space with in the office. For his ignoramus bull-poopie of a brain, will no longer have the same effect... I will need Zoloft to accomplish this feat... But, I can do it! I will no longer talk trash about those who are not around to defend their Fa-ducking... Par-shuckity... Turtle-terd of an image.

WHAT??? I said I needed some time to work into my resolutions... This cannot be accomplished over-night... I am, contrary to popular belief... ONLY HUMAN!!

2.) I vow to be a better driver! Although, I am not sure what the term means. (I only added this one, because my hubby asked me to.) I suppose it means, I should not flip people off... Oh, this reminds me of a funny.... Last week, a twit cut me off at a busy intersection... and then she had the nerve to show me her ever-so-lady-like middle finger. I was in an unusual good mood and I did not return the favor. Instead, I blew her a kiss! I swear, it was an honest to goodness kiss... I don't know why I did it... It just felt like the thing to do. The woman busted out laughing... and waved (in a more friendly manner) and we went our separate ways.

Back to the need to curb my over zealous driving habits... Whatever! (ok, I will try...)

3.) I vow to eat healthier. I know this resolution will be my undoing. For I have discovered the wonders of chocolate, in so many forms! And, the very thought of pasta with a creamy sauce, or home-made gravy ladled over real mashed potatoes (Oh and don't forget the pat or two of butter!) Gosh... and then there are the many uses of cream cheese! I love broccoli - smothered in cheddar cheese sauce. And I can switch to carrot sticks - dipped in ranch dressing! Or perhaps celery sticks - filled with cheese spread!

Do you see my dilemma? Healthy eating will be torture to my delicate system. I am suggesting an intervention... Or perhaps someone should graciously knock me out cold, hook an IV to me and wake me back up when the detox shock is over.

4.) I vow to .... oh heck... the first three will be hard enough...

I am not a saint (nor do I play one on TV) If I can ease into any of these... without causing serious harm to my mental eco-system, then ... Oh, I don't know... I may throw the entire planet off kilter... and we will all land in the dung heap together!

Wish me luck... and please try to avoid me while I work on my issues!

Only One Wish

2004-12-24T23:52:00.000-06:00

I have not been in for a bit... It is quite funny (to me) but the busier I become, the less things I find to Pooh about. I know the crappy issues are still there... Do they ever go away?

Silly me, I get so caught up in the "Gotta Get It Done Now." "No Time To Stop For Dessert. " "If You Aren't Helping Me You Are In The Way.... "

I forgot how to enjoy the beautiful pictures the second grade students drew for me.... I forgot how to sit still for a moment and watch puppies playing with a sock..... I forgot how to exhale.

It took some very special events.... the times in your life, you wish you could pause, rewind, and watch over and over again.... To help me regain some balance... Some peace...

I am going to rewind a few of these.... and keep them in my mind, savoring the happiness, the peace, the love

The happiness on my son's face... When he handed me the largest birthday card I have ever seen. The pain in his eyes, when he asked me not to worry for him when he was at war. The strength in his soul... I could cry that he is not home now... But I will enjoy the happiness in my heart... the happiness I felt when he was home... I thank the Lord for sending him home for two weeks last fall. (He must have known how much I needed that.)

The Love in my husbands arms when I need a safe place to be away from the crazies of life... The stroke of his fingers across my cheek, brushing the hair out of my eyes... The shoulder he offers me, to shed a tear. The ear he offers, to hear of my day. The voice of reason ... For only he can pull me back to the world of .... Well... Where people don't shout at the shadows. I thank the Lord for sending Mr. J. to be at my side.

The laughter and tears spent with my sis when little Calee was born... Such an angel! I thank the Lord for giving Sherri the strength to pull through.

There have been so many moments... I need to pause, rewind, and replay.... Life is good!

However... Due to greed... I have one more wish... But it is a BIG WISH... Everyone should get one wish this year....

I have thought this out... Because there are so many things I want...

I could wish for the end of suffering... the end of wars... (would be awesome to have David home)

I could wish for material things... A house on the ocean front.... Or in the middle of the Mountains... An endless pile of money.... Or more simply, that hot little Mercedes....

But, what I would wish for, given one and only one wish???

Oh, the answer is simple.

I wish that everyone was filled with LOVE. The simple love of a child. The intense love of mother for her child... The love I have in my heart for my husband.

For how could anyone want to harm another... If they felt such a strong love?

Maybe we could start next year by simply liking those who have hurt us... and pray for love to fill our hearts... Merry Christmas... Peace on Earth... Good will towards men

Today, We give Thanks!

Rat Poop

2004-12-22T10:36:00.000-06:00

Ummm I have a thing against God's outdoor creatures coming in to mingle with the inside creatures (my hubby and I) All things on Earth serve a purpose... The birds eat insects and help scatter seeds. The bears help thin out the herds... (and scare hikers!) The worms aeriate the soil and help break down stuff (my mind is not coming up with technical terms this morning).

So on and so on.... But, everything has a place... And my kitchen is not the place!

My hubby has been trying to convince me for the last three weeks that we have a rat. I laughed... What would a rat want with us? I don't keep cheese on hand. No plates of cold cuts. No chips and dips... I am a terrible host.

He tried to tell me that he swept up a giant rat terd off the dining room floor... (But he also thought the extra mouse for my PC, that was on the floor by my desk, was a rat...) So, I was still not a believer.

He called me at work and told me he heard scratching in the living room. I had to ask him if he was watching TV. Of course he was... Well, is it possible that the sound he was hearing is coming from one of the surround sound speakers? (they separate the different sound effects in movies... You hear the thunder behind you... And actors talking from the side speakers... Etc.)

Well, he said it is possible... But he is sure it is a rat... I am sure he is sipping the cooking sherry.

This went on for another week... Trying to ease his mind I called an exterminator. The guy brought in some of those rat poison packages and distributed them thru out the house. For this he charged us 40 bucks. I could have gone to Home Depot and saved us $30. I figure the balance went towards peace of mind.

another week went by... My hubby would occasionally bring up the "mythical" rat. And I promptly snickered ... And asked him if he had taken too many sinus tabs. (he does not appreciate me giggling at his expense.)

In my defense... I have never seen, heard, or smelled a rat in the house. (not the four legged type)

Well, that all changed this morning... My hubby asked me to check out the new Christmas present under the tree. Ooooh Goodie... Another present... (I should have known he was up to no good... I should have seen the evil twinkle in his eyes... ) But it was 5:30 in the morning... I was not looking for twinkles. I was looking for a cup of cocoa.

I got about 2 feet from the tree... And I saw it... Between the packages... A TAIL!!!! A gosh darn LONG tail! I backed slowly away... And whispered... "Is it alive?"

We debated on the best way to check.... Most of which required something with a long handle. (and me standing on a chair) All the while, my hubby kept saying... "Go ahead and apologize for not believing me... Go ahead... I'm waiting..."

I replied... "I'm so sorry. Now go get it. I'll wait on my chair!" "Love you honey"

He gave me the most incredulous stare... And said... "You hold a box and I'll sweep it in."

Now what possessed this man to think I would a.) get off my chair and b.) stand in the path of the rat he plans on rocketing towards me? It must be the word "FOOL" I have tattooed on my forehead.

I tip toed back to check on our guest... Hoping he had slipped past us, back outside. No chance.

And then reason began to set in. Not a creature was stirring not even our rat. (cute huh?) He had not even twitched... My hubby peered over my shoulder and asked... "Do they play dead when they are scared?" I told him they climb on a chair and wait for trouble to pass...

again he did not appreciate my humor... He must be sleepy too!

Poor Ben was swept into a box and tossed unceremoniously into the trash. And being the clever person I am... I promptly turned on the stereo and played my Michael Jackson CD... "Ben, the two of us were meant to be... Ben... la-la-la-la-la... la-la-la-la-la... To have a friend like Ben" (short version)

Lucky thing... if he would have been smaller I would have given him a proper burial in the toilet.

People in ... Creatures out!

Abusing the Port-a-Potty

2004-12-21T08:34:00.000-06:00

Just try and figure where I am going with a title like that! (I am really not sure myself...)

But the title is catchy... In a twisted disgusting way... (It in no way reflects my mood this morning)

My rant is Emergency Vehicles... Not just the obvious annoyances... Such as the Tow Truck Drivers... Bless their hearts... (we say that in the South way too much...) "That man just robbed the bank and shot his own foot." "Bless his heart." "That woman is a dumb as dirt." "Bless her heart."...

Oh, I transgress... I blame my wandering thoughts on the absence of the basic three hours of sleep, which is needed to keep from falling asleep while sitting on my throne ... (I require 8 to 10 hours of sleep per night, but am thankful for 3 or 4 during the holiday crazies)

One more time... Back to the port-a-potties... In the city, you can expect to have a minimum of 10 tow trucks at any accident... They are like vultures circling the wreckage, waiting to swoop in and tow off the prize. Hey, I am a business person. I understand competition. But the tow trucks are blocking all four lanes while trying to win the scraps.

Basic math tells me... There are 2 disabled vehicles. There are already six tow trucks... Move on to the next accident. There is no reason for an additional six tow trucks to continue circling the block with their lights flashing. (of course they feel they do not have to obey any signal lights, one-way arrows, or speed limits.)

I fear the tow truck driver with the flashing lights more than I fear the careless teenager behind the wheel. While teenagers may be easily distracted, they do not drive with a "I own the road" mentality.

As much as I dread tow truck drivers... Last week I was completely bewildered by the acts of an Ambulance driver. I have been properly schooled on the rules regarding Ambulance, Fire Truck, and Police Car etiquette. The person they are trying to save could be a friend or family member. Irregardless of who they are helping, the emergency is much more important than me getting to Red Lobster for the "All you can eat shrimp fest". So, I pull over and let them pass... ALWAYS.

Last night, an ambulance driver shook my faith in the system. The terd bucket was behind me in traffic. He turned on his emergency lights and siren. Of course I immediately merged to the shoulder... Losing my good spot in a tangled web of drivers.

As it turns out, the ambulance made a right turn, heading the same direction I was going... At the next light, he turned his lights back off... And pulled into the same restaurant I was going to. I was concerned. Was someone inside choking from ingesting too many shrimp too quickly? Was someone having a heart attack caused by a shortage of shrimp? Oh my, the endless possibilities. I would have just picked another place to eat, but I saw my hubby's car in the parking lot.

It might be tough to explain why I chose to eat down the road without him.

I found a spot to park and went inside... Expecting to see a commotion... Someone laying on a stretcher... But... NO... I saw the two men from the ambulance checking out the salad bar!

They made me forfit my place in traffic, so that they could beat me to the shrimp?!?!?

I wanted to tell them that eating at Red Lobster (no offense) is no emergency... Now getting a good table at Fogo's... That might be worth a flashing light...

You drive the emergency vehicle... when your lights are flashing... You own the road... Don't abuse it... If I could ... I would want to stick someone's head in the port-a-potty and flush.

Nuff said

Time to call the Tidy Bowl man

2004-12-20T08:56:00.000-06:00

My agent... (also known as my Husband) is stepping in and asking me to Clean-it-up...

So, I am getting out my bottle of Tidy Bowl and scrubbing away.

I need to post a rule change for pooping in my toilet... It is not a hard rule to follow... I am asking that all vents state at the beginning of their flush the following disclaimer:

The following rant is in no way directed to/at/for the Queen of Poop who we all love and worship. LOL... You think I jest? My hubby loves me enough to worry about me and my delicate feelings. So, it has become necessary to state your adoration to the Queen of B.S.

OK, the previous request is all crap. (not the hubby loving me part... ) I don't need the praise to make it thru the day... And any negativity provides me with more toilet material! So vent away... Happy flushing!

Now that my bowl is all shiny and clean... I can drop another terd in the toilet.

Yesterday we gathered all the important supplies... Beverages, snacks, and cell phones (to call those who cheer against our team and give them a blow by blow account of the game!) I lit a fire in the fireplace, ceremoniously handed my hubby his Chargers jersey(there is a special dance with this!), and snuggled in to watch the Chargers whoop on Cleveland.

It was a great game... In fact, we enjoyed all the games... The Texans even pulled out another win! But, I am so annoyed with the announcers/commentators...

I have, in years past, gotten over the fact that I will never agree with a lot of calls by the officials. Heck that is half the fun... Any one who watches sports on a regular basis is aware of the fact that those of us watching from home must be more knowledgeable that the refs.

However, The comments made by the "un-biased" guys in the booths make me wretch. It is so irritating to have them tell me how the play should have been run... Or, when they tell me what the player was thinking when he cut left instead of right. Who told the announcers that we are incompetent dolts, who could not grasp the meaning of a first down with out their infinite wisdom?

My all-time favorite would have to be Madden telling us "The offense must move the ball forward in order to get a first down." All I could think of was "For Real?" Do they have to move the ball forward to score too? We are not all that simple... Most people who watch the game know what a first down is and we don't need anyone to tell us what the player is thinking...

I am sure the real thoughts had something to do with the present they need to buy their wife for Christmas... That is why they threw the pass in the direction of the Cheer Leaders in their cute little Santa Helper outfits! (no, my love... I don't want one of those little outfits... I am serious!)

I want the announcers to give us a wee bit more credit... We can figure out which way the team is heading down the field...

Oh, one more thing... It is so sweet of you to dig up the dirt of a player... The down and out story of how their Momma is in jail and their Daddy was never around. I don't need their family dirt shoved in my face... I would want to be recognized for my talent... Not my hardships growing up. Leave the reporting on the family laundry for the tabloids.

By the way... I am a self proclaimed expert in calling the game! If the call helps my team... It is a good call. If it hurts my team it is a bad call...

My Blog, My rules.... I love this game! Go ahead... And flush for me... I am obviously too full of pooh to want to let this one go!

Multiple Trips to the Toilet

2004-12-19T16:39:00.000-06:00

I have not visited the "John" in a bit... Therefore I have back-up. So many things to rant about today.

1.) My first flush is people who smell bad... But prefer to pretend their 'shit don't stink...' You know who you are... You visit the "Toilet". Leave a pile of crap. And slide out... Without enough balls to even sign your name on the wall.

You know... Scrawling on the wall.... "Hater was here". Those who prefer to remain anonymous (exercising their rights) are more than excepted... However, if you are going to sling sh** in my direction... Let me know who blessed me with the crap.

If I... think you... are full of rotten cow dung, I won't hide in a dark corner and slip a note on your pillow. I prefer to call you out. What fun is it to rant, if you cannot see the reaction of those you offend.

With that... I hope not to ***FLUSH***... But, to Flush you out.... Can you take a challenge... Or will you stay hidden behind the can of air freshener you are using to mask your stink?

2.) My second rant. Showtime is not picking up season three for "Dead Like Me". If you have never seen the series, I am extremely sorry. This is one of the few TV series that we watch at our house... "DLM" was our official Sunday night, curl up together on the sofa, date night.

Who decides what should be picked up and what should be cancelled? They need to keep a certain number of off-the-wall TV series for those like me who are a tad bit off-center. They pick up new shows like "Fat Actress" with Kirstie Alley. (I will be setting the TiVo for this... NOT.) And they continue the series "The L Word" (L is not for Laying next to my hubby on the couch and watching together)

Maybe a network channel will pick up "DLM"... If they can find a spot between "Whose your Daddy?" and "Swapping Wives". Both of which can be scooped unceremoniously and dumped in the big TV-Land commode.

3.) My final and main rant for tonight... Donnald Rumsfeld - Oh my.... My Dear Mr. Rumsfeld, You will not catch a break from the general public. Or from me. I am aware of how busy you are.... but Holy Heck... The families of the fallen men and women who have given their lives serving so bravely under you ... These people deserve more than a stamped signature. (A signature that could have been placed on the computer generated letter by any one of your wonderful assistants.)

These are real men and women who have died for our country... Not rubber stamp replicas... Show the families the respect their fallen loved ones have earned. (I would love to have a rubber stamp replica stand in for my son in Iraq!!!!!) **** My point of view ONLY... I have not asked my son for his****

Three totally different vents... three, far apart points on the spectrum... all felt so good to get out of my head and into the TOILET!

Sewer Water

2004-12-17T12:49:00.000-06:00

Are we ingesting sewer water in Texas????
There must be something crappy in our water...
Texans are slow going nuts... Some, not so slowly!

I can recall several horrific news events in Texas... And I have pooh for brains when dealing with memory cells. But, my local friends... (yes, I have few who are not afraid to hang with me... ) will attest to the fact that the water must be at least partially to blame for the following stories!

Case Study #1:
Clara Harris - She is the woman who after finding out her husband was cheating on her, ran over him repeatedly with her Mercedes. She then claimed it was an accident. Which part was the accident? Running over him once, twice... Or the fact that she found out he was cheating... (Oh that would be an accident on her deceased husband's part) It is all a load of ... yep... sh**!!!!!!

I have mentioned to my sweet adorable hubby, that he needed to straighten up or I would go "Mercedes" on him too! Don't worry. He knows I am full of poop.

Case Study #2:
Andrea Yates - (this one still makes me cringe) She is the woman who drowned her 5 beautiful children because she felt they were evil. Those defending her, claim she was severely depressed. I am definitely NOT an expert in human behavior. I do not know what was going thru her head... But I have been depressed, and when I was at my lowest, I never wanted to hurt anyone but myself... I don't buy their theory...
so I am afraid that IT MUST BE THE WATER!

Oh... I could go on and on... The man who put the 5yr old in the oven... The woman who cut off her toddlers arms... The woman who parked her car in the garage with the man she had ran over embedded in her windshield...The grandmother who locked a child in the trunk of her car...

In the Grandma's defense... I too have been tempted... Perhaps I am able to control the urges only because I have not had enough Texas water YET.

You still don't buy it??? Look at Sweet Innocent Janet Jackson - She comes to Houston for the Super Bowl... (someone must have slipped her some of our water) and before you know it, all of America gets an eyeful.

When traveling to Mexico, we are warned ... DON'T DRINK THE WATER ... Or suffer the consequences of the toilet curse.

I am proclaiming that the water in Texas has an evil curse as well... For I too was once a sweet innocent lady... However, 7 years, way too many glasses of water, and well... It may be safer to drink the water in Mexico... 'Cuz in Texas, we be full of SHIT!

Can I flush this??? As it was not a rant... Just a proclamation of infinite B.S.

Too Tired to Poop

2004-12-16T15:24:00.000-06:00

Is that the saddest statement??? Too Tired to Poop

I wanted to post a real honest to goodness vent... But my brain is on "Protect Mode".
If I try to enter anymore knowledge... It will implode... Therefore it has just shut down.

Because of total overload, the files saved in my hard drive aka... "Crap Bank", or more sensitively titled brain, will not automatically sort for me.

I am mentally unable to coherently put together a good rant...

I think I may have just enough fumes... (not the smelly rectal ones) to propel myself home and into bed... When I recharge... if it is possible... I will blow the roof off the outhouse.

Later

Picking What America Flushes

2004-12-15T13:21:00.000-06:00

"If all mankind minus one were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind." John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

I will officially state to the world... Banning Books SUCKS!

I read the list of the top 100 books that pooh heads are trying to ban. I am proud to say I have read a good portion of them... Should I blame the authors for my imagination... Heck no... I should send them each a thank you card.

The book on the list that cracked me up... Was "Where's Waldo?" by Martin Hanford

Who in their right mind feels this book is in ANY way harmful? Am I blind to the obvious... Or do I allow such atrocities to sneak into my life... none the wiser that BOOKS are corrupting me...

People climb out of the little glass houses you are living in... Come join me in the manure pile I call LIBERATION of the mind...

I would like to suggest some banned books to anyone daring enough to buck the censorship crap.

1.Catcher in the Rye - by J D Salinger (careful he talks about suicide... ) Wait, I further suggest EVERYONE read it and discuss it... hmmm... Maybe, learn from it... Will reading this book lead our children down the same suicidal path??? Will watching a junkie on TV encourage me to shoot up??? Give society in general SOME credit... We are not all Sheep.

2.) To Kill a Mocking Bird - by Harper Lee(are we ready to deal with the racial predjudice issue?) the books advocacy of tolerance, justice, integrity, and loving, responsible parenthood should be on everyone's must read list. (better than the movie!)

3.) Lord of the Flies - by William Golding (please do not let your children read this if they are swayed by the violence of Sponge Bob) Golding's gripping novel explores the boundary between human reason and animal instinct, all on the brutal playing field of adolescent competition

http://www.ala.org/ala/oif/bannedbooksweek/bbwlinks/100mostfrequently.htm (the list)

If some Self-Righteous Ding-Bat pile of Rabid Moose Terds (too harsh?) does not like a book... Then PLEASE... Will the same aforementioned individual just put the book down and walk away... DO NOT TAKE THE BOOK AWAY FROM ME.... I enjoy being educated thru whatever means I see fit... Even Toilet literature! With That... I will flush... (I get to pick what goes in MY COMODE!!!)

In a Stink

2004-12-14T21:22:00.000-06:00

Today... no humor... no crap... no poop... Just... Heck... just me sitting here so pathetic....... feeling sorry for myself...

I lost track of how many weeks since my son's last e-mail from Iraq....

I sit here in my cozy office, sipping my hot cocoa, listening to the stereo... Life is so good... with the exception... The HUGE exception... of not knowing if my son is ok.

How is a parent suppose to stay in the festive holiday mood... with the knowledge that my eldest son... (still my little man) is somewhere in the belly of a hostile country. If he is still working the same shift... He will be off duty now. Will he too be drinking a cup of cocoa?

Should I just put on the Christmas carols... turn on the beautiful lights... and enjoy for him? This is a bummer...

Please God, Santa, The Good fairy.... oh hell... anyone who has the power... Keep my son and his fellow soildiers safe... bring them home... (I've been good this year ... most of the time)

I can no longer see thru the tears.... Today I don't rant... I plead.... Let them feel our love back in the States...

Love ya forever,
Mom J.

The High School Urinal

2004-12-13T10:02:00.000-06:00

Before I begin today... I need to thank my wonderful hubby who provides me with so much support! Just last night, I commented, "Honey, I really enjoy writing in the blog. What happens when I run out of topics to complain about?" He kissed me on the cheek and whispered so sweetly in my ear, "Don't worry Love, you are full of shit!"

Oh, to know someone and have them know you so well... Others may have been offended.. But, No... I was all a glow! ... For yes, I am truly full of sh**! (But, I prefer to call it eternal wisdom)

Back to my topic of ranting today... The name was chosen in honor of what is being flushed thru the Locker Room septic systems... (literally)... Steroids...

I know first hand what steroids at the high school level is about. I have seen a young man turn from a scrawny 115 pound 14 year old to a tough 210 pound 16 year old. I have watched the same young man bulk up, push his body to unheard of levels in the weight room, and destroy his ACLs in both knees.

Who would allow this type of crap into our schools? And for what reason?

It is a vicious cycle... In Texas, sports are MAJOR... Coaches, parents, fans, and the athletes themselves all take it with the utmost sincerity... all bull sh** aside.

A coach needs to win to keep his job. His football players need to be bigger, faster, and stronger to win. (I will not go so far as to say the coaches hand out the enhancements... But they are aware...) personally I would not be surprised if the *vitamins* were given in much the same way we received salt tabs to keep from being dehydrated.

A player knows he will ride the pine if he is slower, smaller, weaker than another guy on the team. And what the heck... If this stuff makes me good enough, I may have a shot at the Pros! Hmmm... a chance at a multi-million dollar contract... And all I have to do is pop a magic bean? What child would say NO?

Heck if someone told me I could win an Olympic medal.... I would have sold my Mom's car to finance. We are driven with a desire to be so dang good that the rest of the world will fall at our feet and praise us. Now add the peer pressures of the average teenagers to be liked... To fit in. And Presto... SUPER ATHLETES!

Three years ago, while my husband was visiting a Highschool junior in the hospital, who was recovering from major knee surgery. The question came up about his team. We had heard another player was also having knee surgery. He told us that it was no big deal. 14 other guys on the team had had the same surgery!!!! Fourteen young men... Pushing their bodies to levels that should not be attainable.

And we as sports fans are no better... We want to see the 73 home runs a season. We want and expect to see world records broken. We need to see tackles that we can also hear... And we are all aghast when the stories come out about steroid abuse.

So what is the answer to the vicious circle.. I, for one, do not want to watch mediocrity on the field, the court, the track. The coaches need to keep their jobs. And the student athletes... Many who will never even experience college ball, let alone the pros... God bless em... Society has asked way too much of them.

This is coming from the mouth of one of the very few girls who could at the age of 6, tell you the difference between a Tail Back and a Full Back, who knew the benefits of the full court press, and could read a blitz from a mile away.

For this I thank my Dad and 8 brothers... Who would never let me watch "The Wonderful World of Disney" if a game was on. " ( one TV... 9 men in the house... And we decided all TV watching by vote... )

This rant is based on frustration... I for once... (just once) do not have an answer... piss-poor huh? (could not resist one more feeble attempt at adding a toilet term!)

On the count of three... no wait... I have moved into the modern age... the toilets flush themselves!

Latrine T.P.

2004-12-12T09:26:00.000-06:00

Today is my official "Day of Rest".

However B.S. continues to pile up around us. I have the privilege of passing the shovel to some of Books For Soldiers finest! Happy flinging... And thanks for Flushing with me!

http://booksforsoldiers.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=14455 (the link for all my loyal followers who have not heard of BFS... all 2 of them)

Stealing Joy by Lindacpa
Well, it's finally happened...The day I've been waiting for and I guess I've just got to say this to someone who will listen! Since Thanksgiving my soldier supplies have been on a table in my brother's shop, since it was a great place to wrap and pack and several family members joined in the wrapping. I've spent some time out there, packing additional boxes as I had a little time (not much with an hour long work commute). Well, last nite as I was packing, in comes brother and friends from their favorite town pub. The conversation started off about what a wonderful thing I was doing, then went "BUT...Don't you think you're a little carried away with this? After all, you can't take care of all of them! (My whopping 20 or so!) I tried not to be defensive, but to explain that right now I had the time, it was Christmas and took more prep time than usual, my squad was coming on a mail stop soon and once tax season started I wouldn't be able to do much, so I'm doing it now. The same old drivel that many of you have heard, "Well don't get me wrong...I think your wonderful...YadaYadaYada...BUT..." I just had to tell him I loved him too and leave! Then I started thinking about why he didn't understand...Maybe because he's never been away from family unless he wanted to be? (ya know the "rough" places...Jamaica, cancun, rio...), or because when he wants to talk to his only son (who he would willingly die for) he only has to pick up his cell phone and dial? Or maybe because when he wants to see his son, all he has to do is wait for him to come home safely that nite? Or does he not understand because the only loneliness he's ever known was when his girlfriend was not curled up warmly beside him for one nite? Maybe it's because when the news is on his listens, but doesn't really "Hear" the implications when the newscaster says, "Well the troops have divvied up their remaining snacks from their care packages in preparation for the battle for Fallujah."? Is it that when he looks at a picture of a soldier, he doesn't "See" the bone-wrenching exhaustion, the tears streaming down a face onto a body that is totally covered with sand on every square inch? OR maybe he just doesn't want to think about a 19 year old sleeping in the sand with his gun to protect my brother's 46 year old hiney?! For whatever reason that he doesn't understand, I decided that I absolutely CANNOT let him, or anyone else steal my joy in helping the soldiers! I know my limits for resources, whether it be time, money, energy, whatever and stick to those limits religiously! Guess I just needed to express this all to someone who understands! Whew, I'm OK now and besides all that, the flak I'm takin' at least doesn't require a kevlar jacket....
Love to all ye faithful! Linda
God Bless America and God Bless Our Troops

I can sympathize by Jane_PA
Boy, this hit home! My office adopted troops more than 2 years ago, and we used a spare office to store goodies, and the conference room to pack and ship. We were very neat about things, and very organized. My boss at the time was extremely supportive, giving us time during working hours to do what needed to be done during working hours! And, he generously donated money for postage from his own pocket! Then, we got a new boss ...Who, by the way, when he found out how much our Board of directors liked what we were doing, bragged about it at every board meeting. However, he started slowly eroding at the project. First he no longer permitted anyone to do anything during working hours...but, I understood...after all, it was a business. Then, he asked us not to use the conference room because it was outside his office, and we sometimes made a mess, and he worked different hours form the rest of the staff (he comes in at Noon), so he was there when we were working. Then, he asked us to not store things in the spare office...he said it caused us to have "mice". I explained to him that none of us had seen a mouse, and none of our "goodies" had ever been bothered, but, he was adamant. We paid for traps - never caught even one! But, we found another place to "stage" our packing parties. The final straw came about a month ago, when he sent me a personal note via email asking me to take his name off any notices of packing parties, etc. He said he was supportive, but "didn't have the time to read them". Maybe if I haven't caught him sleeping in the office I would have been more understanding! Now for the final insult! This week, I circulated among our supporters a picture that was sent to me by one of the soldiers we support. It was NOT marked for his attention. However, to my surprise, he passed it around at our Board meeting, sharing with the Directors that we were not only supporting the troops, but were "diverse" in choosing the ones we supported! I was/am furious! How I maintained my composure is beyond me! First of all, we have NEVER even thought of diversity in choosing who we support...it just didn't matter...it was based on who needed us! Secondly, how dare he take credit for what his staff is doing, when he no longer supports us doing it. I am not a violent person...but, he better not stand too close to a stairwell or window! Some people just don't get it! Others, like this guy - who by the way did serve during Vietnam - are just mean! There's a special place for people like him, and I don't think they call it Heaven! ~j
We are the land of the free because we are the home of the BRAVE! We support our Troops!

Thank you so very much for letting me share your words!
The link above gives more excellent examples of the total Gas Bags we put up with in life... I will find a way to flush them yet. I don't give a crap (literally) if you are pro or con on the war... You do not have to support the men and women who dodge projectiles daily for your lazy behinds... That is your right. But I will be damned if I will keep quiet when you try to stop me from showing support.

In honor of the old cliche'... Shit or get off the pot! Do not Hoover over the toilet, passing nothing but offensive gas, blocking me from my progress... (if you know what I am trying to say... You too are welcome in my kingdom... Pull up a throne in the stall next to mine)

With that flush... I need to prepare for church... God Bless our troops... And forgive my potty mouth.

Potty Training

2004-12-11T11:59:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I stopped by the mall (which is flush post all of it's own)... I wanted to find a sweater for my hubby. I was in a Natural-High kind of pleasant mood...(almost felt the Joyous Holiday Spirit!!!) I did not drive too far to get there and did not have to give anyone an appropriate hand gesture... So basically the evening was looking successful.

Being in my own little world... I tuned out the pushing and grabbing... (but, I did need to give the LOOK OF DEATH to a lady who decided the shirt in my hand was just what she was looking for) note: for reference to THE LOOK OF DEATH, you will need to consult with my son in Iraq. He has seen it in my eyes once or twice.

Back to my little shopping bubble... I was distracted by the sweetest looking Jessica Simpson replica of a 10 year old that I have ever seen. I may have stared... I truly admire beauty! And then this wonderful creature opened her vile mouth.. And spilled the ugliest words I have ever heard. Refer to previous posts... I know a couple... LOL. This precious child was told she could not have the skirt that exposed her butt cheeks... So in retaliation she screamed at her mother... "You're a stupid BITCH!"

My mind clicked into Search and Destroy mode... My brain was charging into override... I felt no control over my mouth.... I said to her... "Little girl... Do you know how ugly your word make you?" I showed immense self-control, I and did not pull out one of my "free hand cleanser samples" that I picked up for a soldier, and I did not clean her mouth out with it.

Her Mother jumped to her side... I cannot blame her... I must have appeared insane. But, the total crap of the story is... Her Mom said, "It's not her fault. I should let her have the skirt. It is kind of cute."

Kind of Cute????? Oh yeah, it is kind of cute... And she will make a lot of money on the corner of West Park and 59 in her kind of cute outfit. Good Grief... When did saying no to our kids become so hard. (I personally get pleasure out of seeing their noses bend out of place...)

I grew up in an era that believed in respect for our parents... Or suffer the wrath of a swat in the pants. GASP... Did I say a spanking... I may have received a couple... But I am a quick learner...

Please spare me the "I send my kids to their room... Bull manure... " So they can play video games, e-mail their buddies and tell them how full of crap their parents are, or even total punishment... Make them watch videos... GOSH... That will teach them.

Now, don't call CPS just yet... I don't bring out the belt... But, at my house... As a child and now as a parent ... NO simply means NO.

Can't we teach this... (with a bit of "gentle reinforcement") while we are teaching our little angels that the toilet is where the poopie goes.

I just wish parents would love their kids enough to give them a good smack... Just kidding... I only want parents to quit trying to be their child's best friend and set some guidelines. It is ok to be tough... My Dad is... And I survived... And gosh... Guess what... I LOVE HIM!

Saying No and having them mad at you is ok... Calling your Mom a stupid Bitch is not.

Whew... That felt good to crap out... LOL... Had to throw that in, as there was not enough mention of poop in this post!

Stuck in the JOHN

2004-12-10T13:34:00.000-06:00

My first post... Which was creative... (in my own mind) caused a bit of a stink! (I cannot pass on a good pun!) I have been told this is a good thing. It means people are reading my trash. Well, they read it because I sent it to them. Any way my critics were harsh. The funny part is...

1.) I did not use any of the crass language which I have learned over the past 7 years in Houston... Ok, I may have known the words prior to moving here, but I really had no idea how to use them with conviction before. I can now belt out a line that would have my mother disowning me (and my Mom is a saint who loves EVERYONE!) I, however save my perfected toilet language for City driving... When I am all by myself and have no witnesses... Except for those fortunate enough to be in the car next to mine that can read lips!

2.) I did not post my feelings on Politics or the Government. I am still waiting for the latest annoyance of one of our wonderful leaders to jump up and slap me in the face.

Until that time, I will post on the everyday irritants in my life. Which brings me to today's title. "Stuck in the John" The streets of Houston cannot possibly be traveled by a sane individual and have that same individual not loose it! Being stuck in traffic... Is CRAPPY! (I think I like that word too much)

I know... All cities have their bad drivers... All cities have their road construction... All cities... blah, blah, blah....

I have driven in LA and Houston beats LA for incompetence behind the wheel... I can not speak for Detroit or NY... But I still proclaim Houston to be the Highway Crap Capital!

Take a rainy day on a Houston Interstate... It rains a lot here... People should have a clue by now... Not a chance... One third of the drivers have backed off the pedal a bit. Easing to 65 mph (the speed limit is 60 mph). One third of the drivers are totally petrified and have eased off a bit more to 25 mph (I do not jest). And the remaining third are so peeved that the second group is messing things up, that they decide that the highway is the Indy Raceway. They will be darting in and out at speeds that could easily top 95 mph. All you see is WHOOOSHHHHHH, and they are gone.

Now, there is no way I could flip them off (not that anyone as sweet as myself would do that). They would never see my effort anyway, and I am a bit too frightened to pry my fingers off the steering wheel. I am by no means a timid driver. My son calls me "Marriane Andretti". I like speed... But Holy Cow Dung (in honor of my theme... LOL) I want to live to race another 18year old off the line at the next intersection.

I have even tried singing a nice Church Hymn while I drive... Trying to put myself in a "Happy Place". However, at the very thought of appearing sacrilegious, I have quit that practice. I know I will gain no "Brownie Points" with God when I began singing... "There is beauty all around... (and then someone stops for no reason right in front of me, causing me to park in a tree and the next line of the song comes out...) "When this Jack-a** moves his %$#^ .... la-la-la-la-la... "

I am working on it... Sorry Mom!

and with that... I ***FLUSH***

Flush Here

2004-12-09T12:09:00.000-06:00

This site has been started by me for me (and anyone else who needs to vent) ... It is quite simple. I needed a place to collect my thoughts, all the ugly ones that creep in during the day. A place I could put them down. Because most of my ugly thoughts should not be expressed... I thought the best place to put them would be in the TOILET... Hence the name of the Blog!

This is a site that allows anyone to say absolutely anything without censorship... It is all CRAP any way! It is a personal way to flush the system! Cleanse the mental bowels (catchy huh?)

So many evil little things creep into my life... Slowly building into a giant pile of crap. If I don't flush occasionally, I may start to ooze the same poop. (trying to avoid all out cursing on my first post ... LOL)

My first vent... And it will definitely not be the only time I mention this is... Hmmmmm... Should I unload the big guns on my first try? No, I will save my ugliest for later on ... When I am really peeved... My first vent will be ... The crap that I deal with on a daily basis here at the office... Racial Bull SH** (I did say I would try and keep it clean right?)

I live in the South... Racial intolerance is not only accepted but is also encouraged. Perhaps not verbally.... But... GOOD GRIEF it is 2004 almost 2005. Everyone eats, drinks, breaths and poops the same right? Is it really that big of a deal that I am white and my Husband is Black... (I prefer the term Milk Chocolate...) If my husband and I can deal with it... What the heck does it matter to the rest of the world? I did not marry my husband because of his racial back ground, nor did I marry him because he is so darn sexy... I married him because he can keep up with me intellectually... And hold his own in a battle of wits with anyone... (well, and because he is so darn sexy)

So the next time someone asks me "Couldn't you find anyone white?" or says to me "I know a nice young White man who would be perfect for you." ... I will be back in here posting the TOP THREE WAYS to hide a body... Ok the last line was in jest... I am an extreme non-violent person... But, I swear I am being provoked.

and on the count of three... I flush.... Heck that felt good!

Later
Mrs. J