I just figured out how to change my name on here. I don't much like Crabcake so gimme a new name people. It's been a year. You know me now. Toss out some suggestions.

Busty beauty is nice. Try to stay away from things like Stubby leg girl, K?

No seriously, what fits? I need a name that fits better than a seafood product.

Friday we're gonna take a pollhost vote on the favorite names suggested. So I'm putting my future handle in your hands. Which is really nuts. I got a bad feeling about this.

Just testing...we switched over to the new blog....or whatever the hell.

CAN YA HEAR ME NOW?

WOOT! we have picture! Milky did you fix that? Or did it just automatically work?

Anyhow...these are my deer. They come up from the ravine into the back yard. Make's Lucy crazy. LOL!

Yesterday.
Bob, Jake, and I leave for a food break. It must be said here that I was ready to eat at 10. We left at 12. So I was STARRRVING!
We had awakened that morn to a blizzard. Ok not a blizzard but ice and snow fer sure. So I'd commented on how glad I was I didn't have to go anywhere that morning. Which is how Bob ended up jinxing us!

On the way to edibles Bob smartassedly (no I don't care if it's a word so lemme alone) says:
"Hm. I don't seem to be having much trouble on these treacherous streets."

"DON'T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT! YOU'LL JI....."


didn't even get to finish the sentence. I'd planned to tell him he'd jinx us. But the jinx hit faster than I could talk. He ran into a pothole deep enough to order Chinese food through.
Not only did the tire go flat, but it bent and twisted like a hot pretzel.

"Told ya." I muttered.

At this point it must be said, I hate that friggin car. It's a jag. It used to be mine cuz I thought it was pretty. It was older and we got a good price on it but....I gave it to Bob cuz, I hate the damn thing. The cup holders are about big enough to hold dixie cups. There's no change cubby and its' too fancy shmancy. Meaning, you can't eat in it without getting "talked to". Fancy cars are NO FUN people.

So, Bob and Jake commence to change the tire. but guess what? The lug wrench that came with the fancy shmancy car, snapped in half. So there we sit, in 20 degree weather, with a flat bent up tire and a broken lug wrench. Happily we did manage to pull into an apartment complex busy with people coming and going.

We called triple A, who was just down the street and waited. 10 min. 20 min. 40 min.
"I'm hungry, " I complained. "I was hungry at 10. I'm really hungry now."
"You'll live," Bob assured me.
10 minutes later......."I think my body is starting to eat itself."
Jake snickers in the backseat while Bob gives me a look.
few minutes after that I start staring at the meaty part of Bob's hand. "You're hand is starting to look like the other white meat." I told him.
"They'll be here." he assured me. meanwhile people came and went, our hood was up, tire flat, and nobody offered to help.
"Maybe should call a friend. That would be faster. I'm cold. And I have to pee now."
"too much information," Jake informs me.
Bob begins to worry out loud about repair bills for the tire.
"Maybe it's time to get rid of this thing and get a real car," I suggest. Another look from Bob and I shut up.
Finally a young man pulled in. He was wearing red sneakers and looked cold as could be. He not only tried to help but even told us what apartment he was in if we needed anything. Nice nice kid. And thank God. Up till then I had decided the entire human race had become a slew of buttwipes with legs and cell phones.
Triple A finally came and changed the tire. Oddly, their lug wrench didn't snap. Go figure!
Flippin, friggin, pansy car. I damn near ended up eating my family because of that thing.

Here at the Cowpie Field we have no problem at all walkin around nekie and showin off our lovely chesticles.

So for your viewing pleasure...and I know you are enjoying this one....I give you a repeat of one or our finer HNTs! Damn! But we do sizzle!

If you would like to see your head on one of the cowpie's oft time adventurous, if not hot pics, send me your head! Or just a picture will do.

Look, it's pizza. And Bob helped!

As you all know, I am deperate to beat Manny's high score on Shape Shifter. That was my plan for yesterday. As luck would have it, the following series of events occured.

1st .... we had a snow storm. Soon as I let Lucy out in the morning I knew I was in for trouble. Lucy is a snow freak. She hops in it on all fours like a 95 pound bunny rabbit. Hops, frolicks, makes doggie snow angels, eats it, yadda yadda. When you try to get her back inside, she goes temporarily deaf. She's a snow junkie who needs a fix every five minutes.

So every time I would try to play, Lucy would be in here with her head on my lap, moaning because she wanted to go outside and play. Once on a higher level the damnable beast actually tried to climb up into my lap while I was frantically trying to place pieces before the clock ran out.

Meanwhile, Webster, a.k.a. "The Devil's Spawn", is laughing hysterically in his cage one minute and banging his giant bell into the cage bars hard as he can the next, whilst mumbling what can only be assumed are birdie swear words.

Mid-day, Bob and I decided we could wait no more we had to go to the market and get edibles. The road was a mess. We live high on a hill and our neighbor was stuck at the bottom so after we got out, we circled around, came back and gave him a lift home.

At our Kroger they have a Donatos take and bake. You choose your pizza, then take it home and bake it. We got one for dinner.

Bob knowing how competitive I am (not unlike he and Manny) knew I was practically pulling my hair out by the roots over this game so he kindly offered to make the pizza and try to keep Lucy busy in there with him while I made yet another attempt to beat Manny's high score.

Just as I hit the higher level from the kitchen I hear....

"ugh oh. (Bob swear for, "shit".) Lucy don't eat that! Hey now! Get out of there."

I tried to keep playing. Stay focused.

"Oh boy! I think I ruined our dinner."

"Ok."

"No really. This is a mess in here. You better come look."

Still frantically trying to place pieces while the game dinger dings madly away at me. "Right now????"

"Will Lucy get sick if she eats all this?"

"What happened?" I called hoping to get the story and keep playing.

"You have to see for yourself. I was trying to get it in the oven and it slipped."

"Is it on the floor? If it's not just rearrange the toppings back and stick it in."

"you better come see."

Ay yi yi!

"I'm sorry about the pizza," Bob said sincerely as I'm scraping cooked cheese offa the oven.

"Don't worry about it," I assured him. "I do that kind of stuff all the time."

It took a good long while to get that oven clean. By then the game day was officially over. I'm beginning to think the only way to beat Manny's score is to let her come here and play and I'll go there.

Bob had one of those smart people shows on last night. (too much talking. I left and played a game after the first 5 minutes)
But anyway...they were saying that one day it's highly possible that all our brains will be connected like the internet.

We'd be able to hear each others thoughts. See inside everybody's heads.

Which means....if you guys live long enough....your brain......will be connected.....to my brain.

I've been thinking. (yes, again)
I decided I have favorites and I wanna know yours.

For all time favorite cartoonist, hands down, no question...
Gary Larson's Farside rocked my world. Agree? Or do you have different fav?
































Best band ever. Hands down, the Beatles own it. They broke new ground and kept breaking it all through their careers.
Agree? Or do you have another one in mind?











Best male action film star. Can there be any other but der Arnold? I don't hardly think so.
Who's your pick?












Last but not least, if you could mosey around in any vehicle, price and maintainance, no issue. What vehicle would you be toolin' around in?

For me again. No question. I'd have myself an old VW hippie wagon.

What would you have?

Say what?

What is the nature of consciousness?

Correlation is a measure of the relation between two or more variables.

Either one of the questions above asked in a setting of me and anybody else at all, will without question throw me into a zombie like state. (I'm sorry. I'm really not kidding this time) I am, in fact, simple minded.


My Sister-in-Law is a member of mensa. (for real) Bob also is very intelligent. Which is why when I scored higher on an IQ test than he did, it threw him for a loop to the point that he retook the test. Which I found hysterically funny cuz......I soooooooo looked all the answers up in the back of the book. Yea, that's right. I cheated! Why? Simple. The test was taking too long and Family Guy was coming on. I like Family Guy. It's funny.

I used to be ashamed of the fact that I couldn't follow an intellectual conversation without my eyeballs glazing over. And I'd even try to fake some answers to questions. But as I get older (55) and find myself still liking cartoons, games, colors, and shiny things, I realize....I'm probably not going to get smart any time soon. So I have decided to embrace my dumbness. Just......go ahead and be all the dumb I can be.

Isn't there room in the world for dumb folks too? Really. We matter. Without us, how would you smart folks have anything to measure yourselves by? hmmmmm?

It has long been my contention that there are two types of people in this world and only two.
Morning people and NOT morning people.





Morning people wake up chattering like a flying monkey on speed. Bob is a morning person. I swear to you every morning (including weekends no matter how late we've been out the night before) the alarm goes off at 10 till 7. I lay there, trying to pretend I didn't hear it so I can go back to sleep. It takes all of oh.... one second before Bob is talking, cheerful and wide awake.

"Good morning! How are you today."

"sleepy", I moan, pulling the covers up over my head.

"Sleepy? You slept all night. Get up! We're burnin daylight."

"ten more minutes. pleeeeeeeease!"

"The alarm went off an half hour ago."
Now I know it didn't cuz...I heard it.

Lucy's kennel has been stategically placed in our room. She is his willing accomplice.
She has learned to make this wooooooooOOOOWWW wooooooooOOOOOOOW sound when she's needing some love from me or Bob. Soon as she hears his voice, she starts getting louder and louder the longer no body comes to open her door.
So now we have Bob chattering away while Lucy, does the background wooooooOOOOOOOOW wooooooooOOOOOWing.

At this point Bob will say..."Aw, poor Lucy. Won't she let you out?" That's when my bladder joins the frey and shouts out...."I'd like to be emptied now please!"
I get up, open the kennel door, shuffle into the bathroom, and on bad days, misjudge the sitter and nearly fall on the floor.

It's maddening, I tell you. How can anybody human wake up talking? And not just grunts either. Whole sentences. WITH QUESTIONS!

So which are you? Morning person? Or non?

As you can see, I won the coveted "Focus Cup Trophy". No easy task considering the game performance by our Buckeyes. My friends and I were prepared to steal the cup, through defrocking and trickery if competition became to stiff and my odds began to look iffy, but happily in the end, I got it fair and square. So Marlene got to keep her blouse on.

Additionally I must tell you all, a reliable source (me) says the Gator cheerleaders doped our Bucks Gatorade. It's the only explantion for why our guys would perform like a pack of zombies on Qualudes during the most important game this season. (except for Michigan)

I've said it before but it's worth saying again. Never trust a cute girl in a short skirt gentlemen.

The point at which I first began to suspect we might be in trouble came at half-time when our band came out playing the theme from Titanic. What the bloody hell? The Titanic not only sank, but it's a big sissy song. What butt thumpin football team wants their band to go out on the field playing, "My Love Will Go On?" To make matters worse they disappeared under a big sheet of blue plastic at the end. Huh? What? Marching into the sea? Were we on Candid Camera?

When halftime commentary began our host (who is deadly quick with a multiple remotes) decided he didn't want to hear it and muted the tv. Suddenly .... things went dead silent. Everyone sat there, looking grim, cept for Ethel and I who had spent a fair amount of time at the Lava Flow blender and were unable to stop grinning. Somebody mentioned how quiet it got with the tv muted and Marlene (who I thought had drifted off to her "special place") suddenly spouted, "yeUH, me and the girls here was just tawkin 'bout feminine itch".
Magically, the tv sound was back up. Just like that. I told you he's fast with a remote.

One interesting tidbit, Ethel and I discovered our booties are still shakable. Who knew? As Ethel blended up that second blender of Lava Flow Margaritas I was overcome with the need to sing. And so I did........ I feeeel good. nana nana nana nont! Well, with the blender blending and me singing what can ya do but shake your bootie? It's natural as breathing.

By the end of the 3rd quarter Linda tapped me on the knee, smiled, and pointed to the sofa where several guys (including our most esteemed Focus leader) sat glumly watching what very much resembled to any Buckeye the world's biggest cluster f@*K.

During the 4th quarter one fella suggested we switch to the porn channel. Of course being steadfast in our loyalty to the OSU team, we rejected the suggestion and continued to watch and hope for our guys to suddenly possess incredibly fast feet with bodies of steel, or........ a time machine.

In any case, though this particular game was a disappointment, as current keeper of the much coveted "Focus Cup Trophy", I can assure you, we will be back in the fall. And we will be formidable. It was a learning experience. That's all. And let's not discount the rest of this year. Come on people. We kicked ass!

PS. To the person who sent me the OSpu mail......PLEBBBBBBBBBBBBBT!

Can I post, cuz Crabs can't.

IT'S HERE! The Ohio State Buckeys vs. The Florida Gators for the National Championship.

What we need now people, is "FOCUS". All you guys (even you Michigan folks.... cause you know, it should have been you guys playing us for the title) you all need to direct your focus to an Ohio State Buckeyes victory!

The game is televised on Fox tonight, (I think it's fox, you'd have to check your tv schedules)

I can tell you for a fact, I will be glued to the game. In fact, drinks may have to be delivered to me so I won't have to leave my focus area.
Ok now. Gimme a GO BUCKS!

What you see here, is the infamous MVF award. This coveted trophy (broken cup, beautifully encased) is given to the Most Focused and Valued fan at our football parties.

I want it.

Sadly in my first campaign mail (complete with winning photos) I referred to our upcoming Fiesta Bowl. That mail returned an immediate response from Bob. This is what he wrote:
Hey dip shit. The Fiesta Bowl has already been played.
ok, now that's just rude. LOL! But yanno, I did wonder why they were talking about the Fiesta Bowl on the radio like it was already played.

Ok. minor (sp?) blunder. No biggie. I can still pull this off. I'll just have to work a little harder.

GO BUCKS! Win that .........National Championship??? Yeah, pretty sure that's right. National Championship. Playing the Gators. Got it.

I shall post haste return to my campaigning. The Crab is on it. All over it. Like white on rice. does anybody know a good site where I can learn football lingo besides..."break his legs!"

Oh, yes. I've heard the viscious rumors. "psssst, Crabby doesn't do anything but screw off all day." Why even my own husband has been overheard to say such things.
TIS A LIE, I SAY! and I have proof! I took pictures of my work today so, PLEBBBBT!

As you can clearly see here, I took my Christmas tree down.

"KIZZY! LOCK THE DOORS! GET TO THE ROOT CELLAR! IT'S THE KKK!"


Regarding this first pic and comment:
No. Please. No mail. I beseech you. I have ADD. I'm addlepated. And also, I can't spell. Send any mails to Milky or Manny. Somebody with an M in their name. Doesn't matter. It's all good.



Lucy got an eternal tennis ball for Christmas. A gadget made for dogs who tear up their toys. It is literally impossible for them to get the tennis ball out of the blue tunnel.

You see here toward the front, (green and unidentifiable) what's left of the tennis ball. The rest I scooped up today with my trusty pooper scooper.

What's left of the toy, is the trusty blue tunnel thing. She carries it around all the time now, smiling sadistically. Sometimes she even lobs it onto my lap.
DEVIL DOG! I spent 6 bucks on that thing!

I'm not sure how or when it happened but somehow, I have been transformed into a weeble-like human, tottering front to back, bouncing to and fro from my over-grown belly to my Continent sized ass.

I'm not kidding people. My ass could now be declared the newest state in America. We shall name her, The Ass state. She'll need a state flower and bird.



Just before Christmas I made the mistake of doing what you NEVER, NEVER, do when you are gaining weight. I bought a size larger jeans. (in my defense, I desperately needed to breathe) Later I made the much, MUCH, bigger mistake of asking Bob, "Did you wash my new jeans on hot or something?" He's still laughing his ass off.

Two days ago I found all the candy and cookies I had stashed and threw it away.
Yesterday, like a junkie, I tore the pantry and freezer apart looking for it then remembered.....SHIT! I did it. I threw it away. I was desperate for a chocolate fix! But there was none to be had.

Today I will be on my treadmill. Then I am getting all evidence of the holidays outa here!

If anybody needs me, just holler, BREAD PUDDING WITH CINNAMON SAUCE!