A local musician was accidentally pushed from the roof of his Ohio home yesterday by his menopausal mother.
"Poor thing always was a mite clumsy," she stated, during our interview. "All I did was bend over to retrieve a loose shingle and next thing I knew, BLAMO. I don't suppose he'll be playing Indian scout any time soon with that broken thumb." (another post, should it become necessary)

"You know," she went on, "it will be tough on him, not being able to play the guitar for awhile. He so loves our duets. Why he practically begs me to sing with him. I feel bad now that I've been so busy lately."

Oh look, I just happened to have one of our duets on video! (ps. sorry guys. The best I could do was link you. U Tube isn't working for me)

The Clumsy Musician

You are deep in the throes of menopause. You are decidedly NOT a morning person. So the alarm goes off, you drag yourself and your hot flashes out of bed, throw on your grubbies and shuffle/stumble into the kitchen on a quest for coffee. Coffee. That's all you want. All you need. Coffee and NO TALKING!

And you walk straight into some goofy guy with a video camera pointed in your direction. And he WON'T stop filming. Even when your nose and ears go beet red from suppressing the urge to kill him, dead.
This has been my life for the past few days. I never know where he is. Sometimes behind me taking shots of my fat pants. Sometimes hiding around the corner. Meanwhile I have two rooms to finish by Friday. Not an easy task, in the best of situations.

This morning I'll be busy wrapping up the first part of my work. Then.....I'm going into the lab to create a little payback, long overdue.

For this unflattering (not to mention goofy) looking avatar of your's truly.






It is really this man. The fruit of my husband's loins. They say he's mine too but I was busy talking the night he was born so somebody could have easily made a switch and given me one that fell on his head or something.

Where was I?

Oh yes, watch for him. He is out to sabotage the review I signed up for. The same one Dirk had. It's Jake's goal to get me a short bus rating. Something I have no trouble doing all by myself, thank you very much!

Payback is gonna be a bitch!

Gotta go. Webster the bird has Lucy's tail again and won't let go. GeezLOOeeze. Let's face it. This entire house is a short bus without wheels.

Crap on a cracker! I've accidentally deleted an entire post. Don't even ask. I have no idea how I did it.

My sincere apologies to anyone who commented on that post. I swear it was an accident. Too much rushing. Too little thinking.

The toilet seat protector. Protector? PAH! It sure as hell didn't do much to protect me Saturday. Nor did it's evil buddy the infamous automatic flusher! HATE EM. HATE EM. HATE EM.

Early in the morning after 2 cups of coffee and 3 glasses of water, I went to the mall. Before I even got through the door I had to go....RIGHT NOW!

So racing in and outa various racks of hanging clothes, several old folks walking in reverse or stop, I find the closest public restroom.

Like a good girl who wishes not carry home mini-pets in my britches, I faithfully wipe down the toilet seat, pull out the "so called" protective cover, and proceed to try and place it correctly on the seat. This requires an uncanny sense of balance because the seat cover has this inner paper that once it's torn free tends to pull the remaining cover right into the toilet.

I get the cover on (which hardly covers the front of the seat) get my tight-assed jeans down, begin to squat and.....the FRIGGIN TOILET FLUSHES and sucks the seat cover right down into the pits of toilet hell.

So pants down around my ankles, with much care, I line the damn thing again, trying to be quicker. Again the flusher sees my shadow pass as I try to squat and steals the seat cover!

Finally I just threw the hateful thing on there barely tearing away the center cover, flip my fat ass around and thrust myself onto the seat....by now my bladder is begging ....nay screaming, for mercy. So I let her spray and DAMNED if the urine didn't spray staight into the partially hanging middle and right back at me! By the time it was done I had people laughing hysterically and handing me wet paper towels to clean myself up with! (I am not making this up)

Seat protectors my ass!

Hello friends. And welcome to this weeks edition of, "Dispelling Famous Quotes".

Give me a quote, any quote, and I can dispell it. Lickity split. Yes, I'm that good.

Today's quote was sent in by Tunutz Afreezin from Alaska.

"Every exit is an entry into someplace else." Tom Stoppard

Oh reeeeeally? Well, what if you exit from your bedroom into your closet? HUH?

ooookay. Barman just dispelled my dispelling. Not to fret. I have another one.
PS. Barman, move your fingers away from the keyboard. That's right...just back away. I don't wanna have to tie you up in that chair again. So...be good.

* It is easier to remove something than to add something.--Parke Kallenberg
Parke, you obviously have never painted over wood.

For all you folks who have asked....where does all that red hair come from?
This, right here, is how the magic happens.
Now....how hot am I, huh? Yeah, that's right....print out and put it under your pillows guys. You KNOW you want it.


PS. I may regret this when my medication wears off.

Is there life after death? Guess who has the answer for you. Yep. That's right. Me. After an extensive scientific study I have concluded without question there is, in fact, life after death.
And I'll tell ya how I know. Cuz mean people live longer than nice folks.
Here's how it works. A particularly nasty person's time has come. Who takes her? The Lord God? Or Satan? Well, guess what? Neither one wants her. So they bicker over it for years and years until somebody finally gives in.
Think about it people. Do you have a relative that's meaner than jackel poop? Would YOU want to spend eternity with them? No. I rest my case.
PS. Occasionally nice folks get in on the fall out from the nasties when the powers that be are so busy dickering that they forget to check a nice old person outa this world. See? It all fits like a puzzle.

I always was partial to big pink hats with feathers in them and fur coats plus.... I need the cash. I'm tired of cooking.

So without further ado or adon't.

MILKMAID HAS HER OWN BLOG NOW
MILK CHOCOLATE BEACHES



pssssst. milky.....psssssst!!!!! where's my 20 bucks? And if you say in the mail again, I'm gonna send my man lefty over there to give you a once over. (don't hurt him)

PS. anyone else who'd like to put a shameless plug in for your own blog...put your link up in the comments section and drop a nickle in the pimp hat on the way out. Thank you and may the blog traffic be as hot and heavy as you wish your sex life was.

By now you all know that last Thursday in the world of me will forever live in infamy as..... BLACK THURSDAY. In fact, I hereby declare all Thursdays, Black Thursday.

One of the things I had to do last week after my morning fiasco and before the cop was... go to the market.

As always, I was not prepared. Which meant I had to write my menus out as I went. So I did. Quickly as possible which means....abbreviating.

here's my menus abbreviated. And below that the mockery Bob made of it when he got his hands on it and read the damned thing to Jake.

Stirfry
beef rst, pot, car, b sprt
Swiss steak
veg soup
ch cab, barbecue Dk-bake pot
pot leek soup
bkd snt, stuff chop,veg

Bob's version read outloud to dramatic groaning by his audience of one...Jake

Bob: "She's going to try to make stirfry again."
Jake: "I can't eat another tofu stir fry." grooooannnn.
Bob: "beefrrrst. Be first??? Pot? Is that legal now? Car. OMG! She's cooking the car!"
Jake: "She's probably covering something. Can't taste worse than any of the other stuff she makes."
Bob: "Baked snout? where do you buy snout?"
Jake: "Are you sure it's snout? How's it spelled?"
Bob: "S..N...T"
Jake "could be snot."
Bob: "Baked snot? That doesn't sound very good."
Jake "You expected good? With Mom cooking?"
Bob: "OH CRAP! Barbecue dick? I have a meeting that night."
Jake: "Me too."

Imagine the earth opens up, Satan pops his ugly head out and says….snicker snicker…I’m gonna annoy you alllll day today just for the hell of it. (no pun intended) That’s pretty much how last Thursday went. We’ll just skip over all that happened before my meltdown. Except to say, I hadn’t eaten since 7 am. No coffee, and my arm itched like a sumbitch from the shot I’d had that morning.

Soooo, with a car full of groceries and a belly full of….HULLO…NUTHIN! I pull up into the cross walk to make a right turn cause some blond in a van the size of Montana, putting on lipstick and fluffing her hair at the traffic light, is blocking my view. My goal here is to make a right turn, run that last errand, get home, change outa the crotch crushing jeans I’m wearing, get coffee, and finally…FINALLY eat something.

As luck would have it (my luck) a cop appears outa nowhere and motions me into the gas station on the corner.

(Conversation near as I can recall)

Cop: Ma’am it’s illegal to block a crosswalk.

I’m not sure what came over me when I heard this. But I tell you, I suddenly became so angry that I my skin felt like it was on fire. I may have even grown fangs but….I couldn’t see myself so…I’m just guessing.

Me: Are you kidding me?

Cop: No I’m not kidding you. Licens……..

Me: Could you make a right turn around Bambi the bimbo driving a house on wheels without pulling up to see what was coming, OFFICER??? Cuz…maybe it’s me but…I couldn’t see a damned thing through her.

Cop: I’m sorr

Me: Yanno, the last time I got pulled over was 12 years ago. That was because I didn’t have tag on the front of my car. Now I’m getting pulled over for pulling up in a cross walk? (my arms are flying all over the place. Probably lucky he didn’t shoot me) DO YOU SEE ANY PEOPLE AROUND HERE???? ….NOOOOOOO! YOU KNOW WHY? THEY’RE ALL IN CARS! THERE ARE NO PEDESTRIANS! Where were you when that guy on Tuller was speeding so fast his car spun out in a complete circle and he took off goin the other direction? Or…or…how about when that foreign lady drove me off the rode. NOWHERE! YOU GUYS ARE NEVER AROUND FOR THAT CRAP! But let me step outa line the teensiest bit and….you guys are all over me! What is it? Is it me? DO I HAVE A COP MAGNET EMBEDDED IN MY ASS OR SOMETHING???

Cop: (lip twitching, asks innocently) That time of the month? I’m married. My wife gets like this sometimes.

Me: (complete 1080. tearing up, emotional…probably from fatigue and starvation but possibly extreme mental illness) awwww. You think I look young enough to still have a time of the month. That’s soooo sweet!

Cop: (obviously not sure what to make of me at this point) You look very young, ma’am. Now be honest. I’m sure you’ve done your share of speeding we didn’t catch at one time or another too.

Me: (pissed again) HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT I’M DRIVING? I HAVE PLASTIC WHEELS ON THIS THING! IT’S INCAPABLE OF SPEEDING. (leaning in conspiratorally, I confide to him…..) I have been passed by ……. Old people. Hell, I’ve been passed on both sides at once with one person going into the turn lane to get around me. That’s how slow this thing is!

Cop: (looking down at my wheels) ”Are you sure they’re plastic? “

Me: YES! Clack on them. They’re totally plastic.

Cop: (laughing) Wow. They are plastic!

He ended up sending me on my way and telling me he hoped my day got better. Course when I got home and made the mistake of telling Bob, I got…..”the talk”. It started with, “Didn’t you learn anything from the “I have a dog in a crate,” incident? Do you know how high our insurance could have shot up if you’d gotten a ticket. And ended with….Did you really ask if you had a cop magnet embedded in your ass?

When I told him what the cop looked like it turned out Bob’s met him and had him over to our house to show him the ravine. He’s a red-haired guy with freckles and kind of a belly so he’s pretty unmistakable. Small world. Go figure.

SignGurl.

I KNOW nobody here would think I'd ever do tribute to people I met on blogs that I consider friends and NOT have my buddy, Sign right up there front and center.

If you know her...and most of you do, you already know why I love her. Her courage is only surpassed by her ability to overcome adversity, and her genuine caring nature. Annnd, she's funny as hell! I'm proud to call her friend and if you don't already, do yourself a favor and go get to know her better.

READ THIS SIGN



G-man, (a.k.a. The Blog Whore)

A newbie on the block, I took an instant liking to G. He has that edgy quality that can make for some very fun times. Also paints a nice little bullseye on his butt for the gals to shoot at. LOL!

G is onery as hell but .... a very nice fella.

I am hoping when my in-person life slows down here to get to know G lots better and I hope you will all get over to his blog and get to know him better too. Although the way he whores himself out, I'm guessing he's already been at your place beggin for comments. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha!

MR. KNOW IT ALL



Iris Vonkornea

This one's dedicated not only to the long suffering, foul mouthed, Iris but her typist as well. (Iris is blind, you know. Can't see nearly well enough to clack at the puter)
I've known Iris's typist a very long time.
We met on a message board that was...well...lively. Not only did the lady keep up but...DAMN! She is one creative gal.

I've been told I'm creative and I love. LOVE, to hear that but in all fairness, I can not hold a candle to this gal. Where her ideas come from, I couldn't say but I dearly love her and Iris.


I'm hoping I might be able to talk her into co-hosting the Cowpie field with Milky while I'm up to my ear holes in grunt work. I think you guys would really enjoy her.

In the meantime...if you're looking for some fun, make a visit to Iris's place.

IRIS SEES ALL

PS. I know you won't believe this but...I had a little run in yesterday with the coppers. Ok..one cop. Tune in Monday for the gory details. In my defense...I had a bad day and I was hungry.

I am officially beginning a petition today, hereby, heretofore, towit, and too woot, to change Milky's poor Bob expression to.....Poor Pam, or Crabby if you prefer. They're both me. doesn't matter cuz I'm the good guy and I'm VERY easy to get along with.

I believe I can show you enough evidence today to prompt you to sign below and make that much needed change.




As you all know, I live in Ohio. And during winter that means S-N-O-W.

The photo you see here was taken a couple winters back when I (out of the goodness of my heart) went out to help Bob snow blow the driveway.
Note my squinty face. Know why it's all squinty? Suspicious why a pic was snapped right in that moment? Because BOB didn't tell me you could rotate the thing the snow blows out of so all the snow I was blowing was blowing right into my face. Mr. "I'm so innocent", thought it was pretty funny.



Recently (couple weeks ago) we had a snow and ice storm. The ice on our front door step hit in a drift. We had....and I swear I'm not making this up....probably 2 feet of solid ice mountain on the front step.
Being the kind and caring person I am, I decided to get out there and beat the hell outa that ice and knock it offa my doorstep. (I kept falling when I went out with Lucy)
So there I am...pounding away, lifting glaciers and hoisting them into the flower garden when suddenly the front door opens and there's Bob.
By the disapproving look on his face I knew...KNEW...he was concerned about me. After all, I was having blood pressure and pulse problems. I mean .... I was practically at deaths door. Really. Since Bob couldn't possibly live without me, it was only natural he'd be worried sick.
He opened the door and I prepared myself for him to lecture me and tell me how dangerous that was.
What he said was....... "You're using the wrong shovel! Get the square shovel out of the garage and use that. You can't use a snow shovel on ice. You're bending it all up!" Then he got his coffee (that I lovingly made) and disappeared back up behind his desk.
Ok...go ahead...sign in below. Any time. From now on it's "Poor Pam" and/or Crabby. Not, "poor Bob".
















PS. Not to fret over any type of retribution from Milky.
She's all tied up right now .

showing loudly and clearly what NOT to do during a life jacket demonstration. So kids, don't do what I do. Follow the rules and don't talk and screw around during the demo or the bad man with the microphone will call attention to you. (that part is not in the movie) Neither is the part where Bob told me not to put the whistle in my mouth ...... um.... sadly after I already did. LOL!

WHAT NOT TO DO!

Shanshu, you have the same problem on your blog as Cazzie. Word verification is hosing up your comments. Can't tell you all what to do but if it was me, I'd take the blasted thing off till blogger irons out the bugs.

I missed yesterday's tributes. Not to fret. I didn't forget and I'll get them up soon. Things here are a little crazy right now. I'm getting to know Georgie's new parents and I have to tell you, I really love his new mom. My gosh, what a big heart she has. Not to mention she is a very creative writer. Her letters to me from George are something I look forward to every day. Frankly, I think I wanna move in with her too!

Sadly, I think Creepy Lola, a.k.a. Summer....is dying. She doesn't seem to be in pain and that's a good thing. Old age has just taken it's toll. I don't think she has much longer. Things seem to be shutting down on the old girl. But as long as she is pain free, my choice is to allow her to die in her own bed. So I'll be keeping an eye on her.

Then of course we have Lucy who doesn't at all understand what's going on in her world all of a sudden. Circle of life isn't something Lucy has experience with yet.

While I'm sorting these and a few other things out here's a movie for you. LOL! (you didn't think you'd be lucky enough for me to totally disappear, did ya?

I love you all. I have read your comments and value them, dearly. You guys are a great comfort to me. It's a good thing to have friends who still care even when you're not so funny, you know?

Here's the movie. Pardon the over acting. George is a scene stealer. LOL!

When good dogs do bad things

I'm gonna need a minute. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

The folks adopting my pup, looking at their web site...well...I was a tad flabberghasted.

But I have to tell you all, having e-mailed all day long with this lovely lady, I am in awe of her loving spirit.

Never, NEVER, assume anything. Smilin George is moving in with a couple who have cross dressing web site. Complete with sales. And I'm honored to know them.

Seems that everyday, I learn more about life and loving. Not to mention how quickly you can become attached to kind folks.

LOVABLE YORKIE NEED PATIENT ADULT HOME

Smilin' George is 8 years old and needs a home with someone who knows dogs and can train him. Currently George is being confined to an area in our downstairs family room because Georgie is completely baffled about the difference between a tree outside and my husbands new speakers. To George, they're both standing, both wood, and worthy of a treat reward.

You know when George has committed a crime purposely because you'll find him in the bathroom behind the toilet staring at the ceiling.

He got his nickname because....he smiles.

Another possible downside to Smilin George is his love (and I do mean love in a most biblical sense) of his stuffed tiger. This doesn't really bother us. We're used to it. sigh. It's George. It's his thing.

This dog is a sweetheart and I have had a difficult time deciding to give him up but in truth, I have two other dogs, a parrot, and an old home that I'm currently remodeling which leaves me little to no time for training George. Not to mention, with so many other critters in our home, training is difficult.

It's unfair to George to keep him confined as he is. He's an affectionate, little guy and deserves a happier life.

I could not comfortably give him to a home with children (ours were grown and gone when we brought him home) or to anyone who does not have experience with training small dogs. He absolutely needs work on his house manners. Otherwise, this little guy is perfectly charming.