Friday, August 31, 2007
I thought you guys might be interested to see every now and then, the cartoons I've done that didn't get published. (often you can see why. LOL!)
These were rejected by Dog Fancy. There are tons more from lots of other types of mags. For every cartoon you get published in the beginning you get 100 back. Anyone who's ever submitted cartoons, articles, or novels, knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Of everything I ever did to make a buck, cartooning and writing have been my greatest joy. I was off to a good start with the cartoons. And often wondered why I quit doing it after finally getting my name out there. ( I honestly couldn't remember) Today I saw the date on one of my returned cartoons and realized what happened. My Mother went into the hospital the day after Christmas, close to the time my cartoons were finally being published. She died two months later. Guess I just forgot about it after that.

Ah, life. She's a weird beastie.

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posted by Crabby at 3:02 PM | 10 moos from the field
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Yeah, that's right. Prepare to switch that ole catch phrase from, "Poor Bob" to "Poor Crabby". You all think Bob's an angel or something but the truth is, he can get real testy.
Back in the day, when the only stove we had was a hot plate and the only furniture a bed and a tv, Bob was pretty much the family auto repairman. Everybody came to him when they had car trouble. And he usually could get just about anything running again.

One weekend I remember particularly well. He was working on our car. It was my job to sit in the car and when he called out, "Try it now," I had to turn the key and see what happened. It was a boring and thankless job. So on that day I walked over and got myself an ice cream cone to eat while I sat in there endlessly waiting to turn the key.

There I sat, licking my cone, peering down through the crack between the hood and the body of the car. Bob was so focused! Completely engrossed in car wires and doodads. Unaware of anything around him but the smell of engine grease.

I don't know why I did it. (ok. I do. I thought it would be funny as hell) I reached over and tooted the horn. He jumped like his butt had been struck by lightening thumping his head on the hood of the car with so much force the whole vehicle shook . I laughed so hard I almost wet my britches.

Out of nowhere, Bob appeared at the open door of the car. Squished the ice cream cone into my face and walked away. He ruined a perfectly good ice cream cone! And the clincher...... it ......was....CHOCOLATE!

Poor Bob? I think not.

ADDENDUM (that's a word, right?)

Justacoolcat is asking for help finding a new hair style on his blog. You all know what a caring, giving individual I am. What could I do but.....find exactly the perfect look. Is that little bow precious or what???? You know, it's the little extras that really make a do.

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posted by Crabby at 5:41 AM | 46 moos from the field
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
After careful review Crabby's Cowpie Field must regretfully give Blog Interviewer a unanimous "thumbs down" based on the following points.
  • An in-depth interview (possibly by web cam) was to be awarded to each of last months top 3 winners. Such an interview would have increased traffic and brought in new readers which in turn would have stimulated traffic and voting for this site. No such interview was done.
  • Twice this month during an active competition The Cowpie Field was locked out of the Blog Interviewer site which made voting for this blog impossible. Once due to band with problems on the blog interviewer site. And once for, "suspicious behavior". Both of these times other blogs competing were able to continue voting during our forced absence.
  • Suspicious behavior, a subject that without question should be addressed privately in email or by phone, was announced publicly on this blog not once but twice. *Publicly questioning the integrity of myself or the people who frequent this blog is unacceptable and will not be tolerated.*
  • Any further public accusations WILL be deleted!
  • In the opinion of this blog owner there has been a good deal of "questionable voting" from all top runners in this competition. It is currently impossible to completely control internet voting. This is the internet and people with access to more than one voting source will get, "creative". It would quite honestly be naive to think otherwise. To select one blog from the many, block those voters, then restore voting with a warning is, again, "unacceptable".
On a personal note, it must be pointed out that I campaigned relentlessly for the votes I got. Not only on the internet but here in my own state as well. Each vote was earned. I do not believe anyone on this site purposely cheated. Nor would they. As Barman has stated, if we had, I'd have a good deal more votes than I do. Unfortunately the public accusation of "suspicious activity" creates for this blog a lose/lose situtation. If I win. People believe I won because I cheated. If I lose, people believe I lost because I stopped cheating.

It is my opinion that Blog Interviewer has literally backed this blog into a corner and in the process insulted every person here and every person who voted for us.

posted by Crabby at 5:23 AM | 33 moos from the field
Monday, August 27, 2007
Since I know how much you all love me gettin' into these competitions I decided to enter another one. DON'T GROAN! You'll like this one cause you won't have to vote on it.

I'm trying out for Big Brother. Bob and I are renting tapes and reviewing strategies now.

I had to think about it because I'll be gone for 3 months. And during that time I'll have no connection with the outside world at all. There's also the fact that I'll have to give up cheap Mexican food and possibly even be eating something they call "slop" if I don't win food comps. All I know about slop gives you gas something fierce. You WILL be seeing the ugly side of me when it comes to competing for food. Nobody but nobody takes away my vittles.

The upside is... there are cameras watching you 24/7. I live for camera time. The show is on 3 nights a week and showtime runs a live feed several other nights a week so Bob can keep an eye on me. Although I have a feeling from his level of excitement over 3 months of freedom that's NOT what he's planning to do. No doubt my house will become "MAN CENTRAL", filled with goofy men, football games, red meat, fried foods, and burping.

When you fill out the application there are all kinds of questions from what size bra do you wear (new unders????) to what are you afraid of. I am NOT telling them about the clowns. I know this show. If I tell them I'm afraid of clowns or pygmies....they'll put one or both in the house with me. They also want to know if you have a blog or a My Space, what foods you like to eat, how you feel about being watched. yadda yadda.

I have to take a complete medical and mental exam from their own doctors. Not to fret, I think I can fake my way through the mental one. The medical one I have to start working out for so I can be in shape not only for the exam but also so I can hold my own in the endurance comps with the young peeps. (which primarily populate the show).

So, if I make it in, are you guys gonna watch? STOP GROANING!

Cat, here's your reward for voting. (nobody but nobody, tell Milky I kidnapped her absolute man)

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posted by Crabby at 7:53 AM | 23 moos from the field
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Barman pointed out a discrepancy in the post below this one.

At 8/24/2007 6:31 PM, barman

No, no, no Crabby. You said ...

She fell and couldn't get up. By the time they found her she had drown in her own drool.

Later you said ...

I was fortunate to be with Gramma when she passed. Her last words to me were, "Win one for the Gripper."

See what I mean... it must be all your grieving.

Of course being a modest person, I wasn't going to tell but... ok... I will. The 100 percent truth is........


It's true. Dead people talk to In fact, dead pets talk to me too. Remember that little dog you had as a kid? The one you loved sooooo much. Well, she/ telling me to tell you guys......... PUT YOUR CUTE LITTLE FINGER RIGHT "HERE" CLICK AND GIVE POOR PENNILESS CRABBERS AN "I LOVE YOU CRABBY", THUMBS UP VOTE.

For those of you groaning....... there are only 5 more days of voting left. If you vote me to a win I will do my very first striptease dance ever (as far as I know) on video, right here.

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posted by Crabby at 7:29 AM | 16 moos from the field
Friday, August 24, 2007

It was a senseless, tragic, accident. She fell and couldn't get up. By the time they found her she had drown in her own drool. The, dear, dear, woman. How she must have suffered. If only she'd had one of those medic alert necklaces with the button on it. Sadly last months contest did not have a cash prize so I couldn't loan Gramma the 50 bucks "and" get my new camera. Life is so unfair!

What can I say about my Gramma? Most of us referred to her as, "The Gripper". She had terrible bouts of constipation due to her passion for various yellow cheeses. Consequently she left quite a noxious trail behind wherever she went. Some of the family shunned her because of that rotten egg smell. But not me! I loved my Gramma. I always rubbed mineral oil on her bloated tummy and gifted her with many dried prunes, while she sang Beautiful Dreamer just for me.

I was fortunate to be with Gramma when she passed. Her last words to me were, "Win one for the Gripper."

Oh, how can I even think about that blogger interview contest now? What will I do with all these left over prunes? I mean after all, it's only 50 DOLLARS. So what if I'm unemployed? What does it matter now that gramma's gone?

But, it was her dying wish. And as bloggers everywhere are my witness, I will fight to win this for, "The Gripper". God bless her!

Now go people. Go and VOTE! GIVE CRABBY A THUMBS UP and when you do comment loud and clear.....THIS ONE RIGHT "HERE" IS FOR THE GRIPPER!

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posted by Crabby at 9:02 AM | 27 moos from the field
Thursday, August 23, 2007

It can (and has) been said that my family has some...... er.....peculiarities. Truth be told, no known "normies" have fallen from our family tree. Several years ago, just before they invented the wheel, Bob and I were hanging out on campus and found this amazing statue of a ram. It was great! Even had real Ram's wool fur. The eyes were so life-like, you almost expected the little guy to follow you around the store. We thought it was pretty cool so we brushed the dust off our $30 ( a ton of money for us back then) and bought it for the Squirrel for her birthday. (this was somewhere around the time Rosemary's baby and the Omen and that stuff was out.)

If you've ever seen someone smile while swallowing a healthy chunk of road kill, you have a pretty good idea of the expression on her face when she opened our treasured gift. Grimacing, she swore she loved it. (I had my doubts)

A few weeks later we went to visit her at her new apartment. The Ram sat on her bookshelves with a cross the size of a Volkswagon tied around it's neck. Bob looked at me. I looked at Bob.

"Why is there a cross around that Ram's neck?" I asked.

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you."

"No doubt. Still. Why is there a cross around his neck?"

"Because it's evil," she blurted. "and it watches me."

"Have you been smoking wacky weed ?"

The conversation went back and forth with Bob trying good sound reason on her till finally she agreed laughing that it was just a figurine.

A few years later after my Mother died, I was going through her things. Squirrel had told me she'd left the Ram at my Mom's house but...there was no Ram there. So I asked her where it was. It took a few minutes for her to answer but finally she said..... "I buried it."

"Say what?"

"I buried it."

"That thing cost me 30 bucks and you buried it? Why didn't you give it back to me?"

"Because it was evil." She never would tell me where she buried it.

Now you guys probably think this is over but....noooo. The other night, Bob and I came up with a plan. We're gonna find a ram just like that one, cover it in mud and leave it on her doorstep.

And Manny don't you say a word to her or I won't let you be there to watch when we do it.

If you feel the Cowpie Field is deserving of your vote please do so With just a few days left we find ourselves at a big disadvantage due to a recurring glitch at the voting site.

Current scores are 293 - 225 - 178 with the field in 3rd place. A huge thank you to all of you who voted to get us that far. If you'd like to help us get further (because I am not giving up until this thing is done.) VOTE HERE.

SOMEBODY. ANYBODY. WILL YOU GET OVER HERE AND VOTE FOR CRAP'S SAKE? THESE GUYS ARE KILLIN' ME. where is your loyalty people? haven't I given you all the best years of my life? Yes, I have. 54 and 55. Both prime years. Ask anyone. What am I gonna tell my mother who's lying on her death bed right now when I can't bring home a win? HUH?

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posted by Crabby at 7:14 AM | 24 moos from the field
Tuesday, August 21, 2007

What you see in this photo is what I like to call, "The Death Paddle". It's a hand held bug zapper people. That's right. Now you can not only smoke little buzzing pests, you can pummel-roast them! Bob got two of these little beauties for his birthday.

As the nine of us, (4 impressionable children, 4 adults, and one idiot) sat around admiring the electric gnat bats, the question was asked..... "I wonder what that feels like?" It may have been the sign pasted directly on the racket that reads, "do not touch while red light is on", that prompted the query. I'm not sure. I can tell you that every man there suggested the other one .... put his finger in it. At one point, Jake picked it up, turned it on, and held his finger in front of it as the small children cried out..."DO IT, UNCLE JAKE! DO IT!" But try as he might, he could not knowingly electrocute his own finger.

After listening to the men taunt each other, watching one after another hold the thing and chicken out, I could take no more. "Oh, give it here, ya cowards!" I snatched it, flipped the electrocution switch and stuck my finger in. "Pah! It doesn't do anything, " I told them.

"You have to slip your finger through the protective wires," the men informed me, encouragingly.
"Wet your finger first!" Jake instructed.
I'm not stupid. No way was I gonna' wet my finger and stick it into what essentially is an electric socket of sorts. No sir. My digit was dry when I slipped her through the protective outer layer into the meat of the device.
The first thing I noticed as sparks flew wildly from the tip of my finger was intense searing pain, followed by the smell of burning flesh. Then of the little kids cried....GRANDMA YOUR FINGER IS SMOKING! I literally had to race to the kitchen and turn on the faucet to put my finger fire out. (btw....somebody had left the tap on hot)

As the entire room guffawed hysterically at my discomfort Jake looked at me with grudging admiration and said, "I can't believe you did that. That's the kind of stuff those guys on Jackass do. You could be on Jackass! Ok. Now stick your tongue in."

Go here to vote Crabby to a win in her final competition for best blog. It's now or never folks because I won't be running again.

I can't get to the blog interview site. When I try I get the following message. "It doesn't look like you've installed WP yet. Try running install.php."
Mails to Mike bounce back to me and yet I get his updates on "new" blog interviews just fine. Several people have told me they can get to the site and vote for anyone but me or Sign. Others have gotten through. I don't know what the deal is but it's obviously hurting any chance I had in this thing. Frankly considering this is the second time that site has cost me votes, I'm becoming more than a little annoyed.

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posted by Crabby at 5:22 AM | 51 moos from the field
Monday, August 20, 2007

Even at an early age,
crabby yearned
naked cowboy with a lasso
for something
a vote for crabby is a vote for multiple orgasms
with nachos.


activity calories
sleeping 6 per hour
watching mindless tv show 1 per minute
voting for crabby 8 per vote
voting for crabby
and gab 24

towit and towith the simple act of voting for crabby will remove aproximately 56 calories per week. Or 168 for all 3 of us. It's a win-win situation. You can use those extra calories to lose weight or put them toward a delectable gooey, hot fudge brownie, with hot fudge sauce, and ice cream.

To vote for Crabby and a hotter body..... Go here and thumb me up.

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posted by Crabby at 6:58 AM | 26 moos from the field
Sunday, August 19, 2007

naked female mud wrestlers = thumbs up for crabby Here

(It worked last time. Let's try it again.)

Ok taking Lee Ann's challenge. Here is the pic of me in my teen years and one from now.

Are you willing to take the challenge?
slippery naked female mud wrestlers = vote for crabby here

And finally one tiny shameless plug. Please vote thumbs up for me, "crabby" Here.
We'd be ever so grateful if you'd remember Gabby and Sign too. They're both right over there with me.

It's just a teensy little click of the finger on that thumb pointing upward toward major hot sex


posted by Crabby at 9:13 AM | 11 moos from the field
Friday, August 17, 2007

Are you tired of giving up half your inheritance to bury loved ones who weren't even "that" nice?

Would you like to catch a friggin break?
oral sex

Then bring your newly dead to Crabby's Dirt Nap Cafe. Home of the Double Wide Dirt Napper. That's right, you can now bury three for the price of one. (they always die in 3's) The newly designed coffin fits two comfortably. But....THEY'RE DEAD! They don't have to be comfortable. We'll squeeze that 3rd one into the foot of the unit for absolutely FREE!

Worried they won't all go at once? No problem. For a low freezer fee, we'll keep your loved ones on ice as they croak. (some slight freezer burn may occur)
oral sex
Furthermore there is absolutely no charge for hair and make up. Cause...THEY DON'T NEED IT! THEY'RE DEAD. Fake flowers (made from the finest tinted bathroom tissue and cake icing) will be supplied with a constant misting of Glade Floral scented room freshener for that realistic touch.
oral sex

We supply a lovely corn field for the actual burial but you will have to dig the hole. We don't do that. Grave markers are not included. You are encouraged to bring your own sign. Anything will do. They're dead. They won't know the difference.
oral sex
Sign your loved ones up now for the amazing low burial fee of 29.99 per head. (headless loved ones will be considered an act of foul play on your part and refused admission)

Thank you.

(if you are in the mood to cast a vote while you're just sitting there doing absolutely nothing anyhow......GO HERE AND THUMB ME UP.)
Hit sign and Gabby too. you'll be there anyway. What's the big?

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posted by Crabby at 6:49 AM | 31 moos from the field
Thursday, August 16, 2007

I finally figured out how to upload to U Tube. WOOT! And all by myself, thank you very much.

BTW, Jake did really well that day. But, I did better. Why? Because I got "the focus thing" goin' on.

The hyena-like laughter you hear in the background is probably me. Once Ethel starts doing the booty shake, it's all over. LOL!

Hit me here. Hit me hard. I can take it. Just remember to keep your thumb up.

And while you're in there, Gabby and Sign sure would appreciate a vote too.

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posted by Crabby at 5:03 PM | 6 moos from the field
Wednesday, August 15, 2007

You guys never cease to amaze and astound me.
The last time we ran in the blogger interview thing, we ran against some pretty stiff competition. I emphasize, "we" because in all honesty, all I do is write the posts. You all make the Cowpie Field a success. It's your baby as much as mine, probably more.

A while back I relieved you guys of all voting responsibility for me. I did that because I NEVER want you all to think that any contest is more important to me than my friends. It's a matter of respect and you have that from me in spades.

But there are some die hard Cowpie children that are still out there voting and basically fighting for a win for this goofy field we play in all by themselves. How incredibly kind of them!

If you guys want to take a victory here for the field, I'll get back in and we'll do this side by side. I will do my very best to make it happen for us. And you all know by now, I don't like to lose. LOL!

But this is not up to me. You are the voters. You're the ones that make it happen. So you tell me, do we want to get back in there this month? Or fade off the top 10 and move on now?

I will be cool with whatever you guys decide. If you're up for it, then so am I. If not....we move along like always.

If you are choosing for the Field to stay in the competition and duke it out let me know in the comments below and also... you can vote thumbs up for not only the field but our other two pals Gabby and Sign, HERE.

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posted by Crabby at 12:36 PM | 15 moos from the field
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Of course I do know and accept that the only person here who will completely enjoy this ..... is Milky. LOL! The rest of you all suck it up. You have to look and pretend to enjoy yourselves.

By the summer of this year Bob finally realized I was, in fact, a girl. Only took me 4 years and the development of chesticles.

This is the only pic of me you'll ever see with my
natural color hair.

Big sexy kiss.
Sadly, grandpa was married to grandma so he maintained a secret stash of whiskey to avoid killing her.
That night he unearthed the stuff just for Bob.
Bob passed out, in his suit...soon as we hit the wedding bed. Don't believe I ever did forgive grandpa for that particular misdeed.

The ONLY time I was ever asked to be a Matron of Honor. Not sure why. And I've often pondered it.

I will admit some minor mishaps during the ceremony may possibly have been my fault. But still.

The second year of marriage was one grand old time, which is how this happened.

Daddy Bob. Notice mini Daddy Bob on left. We had about a year of this when Jake imitated absolutely everything Bob did.

Crab the mom. I didn't have to actually give birth to this one. I'm sure hospital staff everywhere is grateful for that blessing. I'm never good in hospitals. Too many rules.

I ate pizza and drank pepsi the night Jake was born...right up till my water broke. No way I was giving up food on pizza night.

and finally (quit yer cheerin!) That's all folks! If you guys get a minute run over and give Sign and Gabby a vote, will ya? They're ..... OVER HERE .

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posted by Crabby at 11:54 AM | 21 moos from the field
Monday, August 13, 2007

Parents of girls, listen up. Is there really a need to spend thousands of dollars on photos like this to preserve your little girls wedding day memories?

Oh sure. The pros use nice settings, yadda yadda. But come on...been there. Done that.

But I ask you, how many times are you gonna see a wedding pic (complete with blood spatters!) of a bride standing in front of a Matador stabbing a bull on black velvet? Huh? And the price.....FREE! I know it's hard to believe but it WAS.

Striking, isn't it? And the best part ... the entire ceremony was held right there. That's right. Every photo, one of a kind.

Meanwhile captured by another family member for the absolute low price of "free"...

has captured the ever popular, "come hither" bridal pout.

You can't buy stuff like this. I mean...who wouldn't want this hanging over their bed? It's such a turn on!

It's Bob's birthday today so I'll pop in and out to visit folks but mostly I'll be hanging with Bob.

PS. I stopped buggin' you guys to vote for me over a week ago because it felt rude. I don't blog to get votes, you know? So what I'm wondering is...why am I getting all these thumbs down votes? Is this blog offensive? Cause I'm certainly no threat to these people if I'm not even campaigning. Not to mention, I have gone to some of these sights to compliment these folks on their work. This makes me think I'm getting thumbs down because people don't approve of "the Field". If that's true, I'd appreciate some constructive criticism to point me in the right direction. Check out the voting HERE

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posted by Crabby at 5:20 AM | 29 moos from the field
Wednesday, August 08, 2007

kiss kiss kiss kiss.

We are gazelles in jungle full of hyenas and lions, people.

Now, I'm willing to overlook a boat load of misdeeds, having a nice little stack of my own piled up in every closet. But there is one thing I will defend and protect with gnashing teeth. My money!

Yesterday at the market.

Standing there, intently pondering the Asian sauces, from the corner of my eye there is movement to my left. I glanced down instantly and see a hand bedecked with enough rings and bracelets to sink a cruise ship, reaching for my purse!
"OH HELL, NO!" I declared, smacking the bejeweled hand away. Six of my dollars were in that purse and a 2 for one coupon for Hollywood video, by damn!
Ready to take further action if required to protect and defend my treasures I plant my feet wide and take a first good look at my opponent. She's like....SEVENTY!
"Is that your handbag?" the old con asks nervously. (well, DOH lady!)
"It looks just like mine," she continued.

The bags didn't look anything alike but I pretended to give the old sting artist the benefit of the doubt. I even apologized for smacking her hand. But you can bet the rest of the time I spent shopping, one eye stayed on the bag, and one on that old lady.

PAH! Take my six bucks, I'll kick your butt six ways from Tuesday, woman. I don't care how old you are.

Speaking of old. Would ya look at this? Wonder how many guys got their eyes poked out back then?

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posted by Crabby at 3:12 PM | 28 moos from the field

I'm gone.
Webster is in charge.

posted by Crabby at 6:24 AM | 11 moos from the field
Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Being 56 I am closer to the good old dirt nap than many (most) of you. Which combined with menopausal mood swings, causes a person to ponder some stuff. And some times it just plain pisses me off.

Today's menopausal bitch-rant is .... Obituaries.

Why do we have to drop dead to get a mention in the local paper? I'm just sayin....if you're dead, do you give a shit? NO!

Why does that final farewell ad focus on what you died of and who survived you? Who cares? Dead is dead. Did ya do anything first besides serve in the army or be a mother and wife? Did ya like cheap Mexican food? Did cabbage give ya gas? Where's the person in the obit??? huh? Who was she/he? Surely a person does more than marry and birth babies!

To make things worse soon as the service is over people are poking through your underwear drawer looking for cash or hidden treasures. If I start feeling ill, you can bet your buns there will be a loaded mouse trap set in mine. See how they like that treasure. PAH!

My feeling here is, if you're that crazy about a person, spend some friggin time with them. Take them to lunch. Send a note and tell them they matter. Or buy the poor sap a computer so they can blog and say it all themselves.

That's right. Blogs are important because it is the only way we get to say, HelllOOOOOO! I'm here. I'm living. I have ideas running through my head. It's a shot at getting some recognition before we croak. Unless of course you get yourself mugged, or jump off a building and survive. So write those blogs. Go on! Get off your butt and go write something for yourself! Or run naked down main street. Be remembered! You matter! Each and every one of you.

I'm in a foul flippin mood.

OO OO...and here's another come we call 'em hemorrhoids and not asteroids. Call it what it is for craps sake!

ANYONE? Hate menopause. hate it. hate it. hate it.

Far as this voting thing goes, I'm not feeling comfortable asking you folks to keep voting over and over. Course I would like you to but, I so completely understand if you are bone weary of the whole deal. You all will be just as important me if you vote or don't. So if you think this blog is worthy of a number one spot and 50 smackers VOTE HERE.
And if you just plain don't wanna, a-ok with me, kids. No worries. It's not why I come to visit, promise. And it's not why I do the "blog thing". I just plain enjoy it. That's all.

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posted by Crabby at 8:25 AM | 21 moos from the field
Monday, August 06, 2007


I swear to you 3 different people said, "Excuse me" to these gals. The one on the left would move her cart just long enough for the hapless shopper to squeeze through. Then she'd put it right back! They stood there for 25 minutes. I know because a Kroger employee (meat man) timed them for me. When I was checking out, they had moved into the cereal isle and were blocking that! There is a cure for isle blocking. If everyone would drop an item or 5 descreetly into the carts of the yammering blockers by the time they paid for their groceries they would be too poor to return to the market for a good long while. Think about it.

The crab cam caught this guy at lunch yesterday. I say he's practically a ringer for Nick Cage. Bob and Jake say no way.

What do you say?

PS. I am setting up a new blog so hang with me and be patient. Takes me awhile to figure things out. But, I am soooo all over it. I think.

posted by Crabby at 6:20 AM | 24 moos from the field
Saturday, August 04, 2007

I call to a jury of my peers to hear the facts and cry "The Crab is Innocent, by damn!"

Now look closely at this photo. Would you drink this milk? Never mind the obvious smell. Just look at it. Does it look particularly appealing?

Come with me for a moment to listen in on a conversation from yesterday all ready in progress.

Me: Oh pleeease, Bob! I do not abuse you.
Jake: You use us for your entertainment. That's abuse.
Me: Not your business, Jake!
Bob: What about the time you let me drink spoiled milk?
Me: That was over 10 years ago? Are you still riding that old horse? Besides, how could I know you were going to drink it?
Bob: You saw me pour it in the glass.
Me: Well, didn't you notice that it was kinda lumpy?
Bob: Obviously not. I rely on you to keep the food in our house safe. How could I know you were drinking the fresh milk and putting the old milk in front of it?
Me: Well, I wasn't gonna drink the lumpy stuff. DOH!
Bob: Why did you keep the old milk?
Jake: ahhhh. There it is. She was teaching you a lesson. That's why she let you drink it.
Bob: Yep.
Me: For cryin out loud, didn't you notice it stank? Don't you have any sense of smell.
Jake: Mom, he's been smelling your cooking for years. Spoiled milk probably smells like desert to him after that.

Ok people. I put it in your capable hands. Let's decide this thing once and for all. Am I responsible for Bob drinking rotten milk? huh? huh? I think not.

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posted by Crabby at 9:03 AM | 26 moos from the field
Friday, August 03, 2007


As Mike's shouts continue to echo inside the small blue chamber, Crabby, madly pushing one button after another, was heard to mutter......"one vote isn't enough! I need more! I need more!"

When interviewed a close friend of Crabby's looking deeply concerned replied, "I think she's really losing it this time. I mean, she's never kidnapped anyone before. Well, just that one time but nobody really cared. This is serious."

As friends looked on wiping away tears of dread, Crabby cackled gleefully behind the curtain.

If you would care to vote for the demented crab go HERE.

A vote for Signgurl can be made HERE.
And a vote for Gabby can be made HERE.

Note: I'll be going through the blogroll this weekend to remove defunk links to make way for new stuff. So if you've just been on vacation or something drop me a note

We'll be making a few changes here at the field. We plan to focus on senior citizen porn. (just wanted to see if you were paying attention)

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posted by Crabby at 12:13 PM | 22 moos from the field
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I love my dog. But, she's whacked. Truly.
She will NOT go outside to potty unless I stand in the door where she can see me. And some days that's not good enough. It used to be just at night. And I used to think she was afraid of the raccoons and the foxes and things. But now, it's during the day too.

Today she took 2 steps into the yard, turned back, whimpered and waited for me to assure her I'd stay put till she was finished.

I'm a busy woman! I can't stand there and watch her pee every time she has to go. What's wrong with this dog?

I've tried explaining to her that she's a 100 pounds of viscious canine and doesn't need to fret.

I've tried pointing out she has teeth much bigger than mine.

I've even thrown sticks which she normally can't resist. But if she can't see one of us in the doorway, she'll come racing back.

It's offical. Every pet I have ever had has had....issues.

Smilin George humped his bunny till it was so stiff nobody wanted to touch it to put it in the wash.

Creepy Lola was, humpbacked, toothless, ate poop, and till the day she died mothered a latex chipmunk like it was a pup.

And Webster, well, he's just evil. Evil! Not to mention his butt is always hangin' out of his feathers because every time he starts to get a tail, he eats it!

And now Lucy who already sits and begs for paper napkins like they're milkbones, chases her tail till she's dizzy and will fetch a stick even if you throw it out a 7th story window....won't go to the bathroom unless I am clearly visible. I need a doggie shrink. And a bird exorcist.

PS. We tried to teach Webster to say, "Who's yer Daddy?" Know what he says? "Who's yer birdie?" Self-centered little butt barer, isn't he?

EEEK! I'm underlining and I don't know how to stop. Milkmaid! STOP PLAYING WITH THAT HOSE AND GET BACK HERE. I SCREWED UP AGAIN!


Vote for all of us. We all need it. And Sign said she'll whore herself out for all 3 of us. So did G-man. (I am not making it up. Trusssst me)

and in all fairness to our other top yourselves a favor and go check out, "Slick Sumbitch" and "15 minute lunch". Both of these fellas are awesome!

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posted by Crabby at 12:45 PM | 12 moos from the field