Manny is hiding in the dark with her canDEEE
I want canDEEEEE
gimme some canDEEEE, MANNNYYYYYY!
I'm at your door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
I'm coming to your back doooooor.....gimme some canDEEEEE!
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I'm opening the winnnnndow.....
screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch

I'm want my canDEEEEE.

I'm here in the dark....

I smell canDEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

gimme that cannnDEEEEEE.

it's very dark.

I see you Manny.

Hiding behind the chair.

Eating my canDEEEEEE!

I'm behind you.

I smell cannnnDEEEEEE!

GIMME THAT CANDEEEEEEE, MANNNNNYYYY!

Labels: bad manny., gimme some canDEEEEE, manny hiding in the dark with some canDEEEEEE

Barman came to visit this weekend. He and Bob made the plans so....as luck, (men) would have it, we were up, out, and eating at the crack of dawn. I don't know about the rest of you ladies but in the world of "me", that's just not natural.
But check Barman out....look how happy he is. LOL! And Bob was awake too! Not me. I yawned so much I almost swallowed my own head.
We went for a walk later on the other side of our ravine. As you can see, Barman and Bob had a hard time keeping up, mostly because they kept tripping over things. I was afraid I'd have to carry them out on my back but they eventually got their game on.
Although Barman did tend to wander off a bit.
Awww. Look at him down there all worried about how he's gonna cross that rushing stream. "Yo, Barman!....Lookit here....there's a bridge right up top where I am!" (My bad. I shoulda had a rope tied from his waist to mine. He IS from outa town after all.)
Tree riding. A popular sport here in Ohio. I have 2 blue ribbons and I'm goin' for a 3rd. It was a good leg stretch hoppin up on that thing too, lemme tell ya.
After we had a cup of coffee and warmed up (it was cold, blustery, and raining here Saturday) we headed out for Easton and some lunch. I meant to surprise Barman here but my blasted camera got stuck so THAT plan didn't work out.

And check it out! I have Erma's shoes! WOOT. Bob took this pic. He took like...4 of them because he kept saying....you're making a dumb face in that one. "That's how my face looks!" or..."Well, just get the shoes!" I'd try and explain but....he kept trying to get one without the face. Didn't work out for him. Which I told him in the first place! It is, what it is, yanno?
No trip to Easton is complete without a trip to the Mackie store. (Barman has NO idea I have this pic) bwaaaaaaaaaaa ha ha ha ha! I hid behind the software to take it.
We had lunch at Mongolian Barbecue. All the servers and cooks were wearing Halloween costumes which was cool. But....sadly I didn't get pics. I can't focus on such things when I smell food.

After dinner we drove thru Horton's then went home and vegged out with football. I LOVE football.

OO OO...and you all might like to know that Barman "the traitor" encouraged bob and Jake to go to Sam's club for MORE pickles and mustard! Not cool! Like we need another restaurant sized jar of pickles around here. They spend one day together and all of sudden they're cohorts. MEN!

Course by now you all know that on the way home, Barman had his trippy thing (whatever you call em) set on walk. So it was taking him down all the walking routes till he figured out what was wrong. Goofball! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha!

We had a pretty good time considering we had nothing at all planned and just winged it. Next time around I think we HAVE to go to Dave and Buster's for some video game competition and good meal.

Labels: Barman, Bob, crabby, Lucy, Michigan meets Ohio

The Cowpie Field has temporarily moved into one of Barman's posts. The one titled....Who am I?

Hey....he said I could. (honest!) If ya can't trust me...who can ya trust? huh?

Anyhow...if you want Sheriff...Milk E. Maid, Deputy Crabby Fife, or Deputy Manny GoutFoot....we'll be over yonder restoring law and order......or...um...possibly breaking the law. Not sure which.

AH-DENDUM! I blew up Lauren's photo. This is what she really looks like. Shocking! Just shocking. I don't know about you all but I'm thinkin' UGlee trumps youth.

Labels: ugly young chick

This is a humor blog.
Things written here are written in jest and not to be taken seriously.
No subject has been directed at any individual unless I specifically named them.
I am not a fitness expert.
I am not a therapist.
I am not a deep thinker.
I do not wish to solve world problems or even little problems. My brain is not equipped for that and as with most simple minded folk...that suits me just fine.
Don't send me helpful information on subjects written about. I promise you, I won't retain it anyhow.
I consider any subject fair game. If you are easily offended or have emotional issues, for the love of all that is good in this world....don't read "my" crap. Because there's an excellent chance anything in my head that taps off my fingers will set you back years.

URGENT ADDENDUM:

First, I apologize. I swear I didn't know Crabmatic Brain Fever was contagious. Sadly, it has become apparent through their comments below that two of my dear friends are suffering from the early stages of this dreaded disease. In an effort to make amends I will now post the warning symptoms for, "Crabmatic Brain Fever".

1. You find yourself laughing at something in a room full of people, look around and realize....you're the only one laughing.
2. Talking to yourself.
3. An inability to focus on another person's words because your brain is busy planning what you want to say soon as they're done hogging air time.
4. Thinking your still fairly smart when you are, in fact, slowly dumbing down, due to excessive, "Crab exposure".
5. An attraction to bright colors and shiny things.
6. An aversion to numbers, unless they're on cash or check.
7. Habitual reality TV viewing.
8. You begin to hum the song....."Short People".
9. An inability to take anything seriously, immediately followed by an uncanny knack of making a complete fool out of yourself.

Crabmatic Brain Fever culminates with the total dumming down of the thought process. And being uncertain even when you write them if big words like culminating are being used properly (which they usually aren't). The up side to this disease is ..... you not only don't give a care, but take supreme pleasure in your dumbness and resent anyone who tries to smarten you up.

And finally for "JU_ _ _" who sent me the email telling me how dangerous it was for me to encourage obesity. And WORSE a link to "statistics", a.k.a. NUMBERS! (cruel bitch) Numbers make my head hurt unless they're on cash or check. Everybody knows that!
A toast to your helpful advice.
mmmmmmm....it's not just butter and rolls....it's sweet full cream butter. nummy nummy in my tummy.
And..sayyyyyy...how about a little extra butter on top of my milk gravy, to go with my "FRIED" chicken? tasty tasty. mm mm good.
You're wasting a perfectly good soap box on me, "JU _ _ _" . I have A.D.D. Now come on down before ya get a nosebleed.

Labels: bright colors, buttinsky, buying a sense of humor, fried chicken, HUMOR, individuality, pretentious emails, proud ample bottomed blogger with butter, reality tv, Sense of Humor

Why do we worry so much about weight in this country? What's wrong with a woman who has a little meat on her bones, huh? I mean, obviously women who weigh more have bigger chesticles. That oughta count for something.

Seriously, unless a gal (or guy) needs to knock off a few to get healthier, I don't get these salad lunches people are having. And I gotta tell ya...when we go out to dinner with a couple and the wife is skinny....she almost always will eventually ask one of us a question like, "Do you know how many calories are in that?" Personally in those moments, I have to fight the urge to knock the skinny priss off her chair. I don't know. I don't wanna know. I just wanna eat the damned thing. If I don't eat, I'm gonna end up lookin like this in my old age. No thanks!
And don't think I don't have my run ins with the scale...when I get on it....which I try not to.
Check it..........
Do I care? Obviously not.
And OO OO....here's a good one. I know all you ladies hate this stuff.
Do I care....nnnnooooooooo. Not particularly.
And as far as men go. I like a man with a little belly on him. I don't see a problem with it. Means he eats normal stuff and probably enjoys his chips during a football game. Who wants a man that's prettier than she is anyhow?

People...set yourself free. Eat a good meal! Enjoy your life. The weight comes and goes. It's normal. Trust me, it's more important to enjoy yourself and focus on the other guy and how much fun, he or she, is......er....or isn't....in which case, get desert too.

This has been a public service announcement from the folks at, Yummy Crab Vittles, inc.
You're welcome.

Labels: big appetite, big boobs, big butt, desert, football

What thee bloody hell?

First I get a one word comment from Melissa which I can only assume is more of an advertisement for her porn site than an actual comment. Then Vi sends everyone to her blog to read all about LW and is she or isn't she who she says. Then I get a comment from another person I don't know tellin' me what the hell to delete on my own blog.

Do I look like a friggin infomercial here?

For the record, I don't give a care who is and who isn't who they say they are. I'm just here to have fun. And I don't want my blog used as a marketing tool! So knock that crap off!

If you people want to get all lathered up over b.s. that doesn't mean anything, feel free. But not here.

For the record, I LIKE Little Wing. I like the things she writes and her comments everywhere have always been kind. Actually, I don't dislike any of you. But trust me when I tell you, life will kick you in the ass plenty all by it's self without you all trying to stir each other up over nothing.

Now you children go outside and play nice and let me get back to getting well.

PS. JQ, is this good enough for you? Have I been clear? I hope so because I'm not going to go through all those comments and try to figure out who should and who should not be deleted. I have other stuff to do.

Addendum: I told Bob about this stuff and he asked to see the Melissa post. I showed him and his reaction.....

"Wow. She's hot!"

Now he wants me to see if there's a muscular guy on that porn site that has a big wanker and tell everybody it's him. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha!
So from now on... ya don't have to call him Bob....you can just call him....Big Wanker Guy.

Labels: petty bullshit

TWO OF THE SISTERS (especially Manny) SHALL MEND THEIR WAYS, OR I SHALL HAUL THEIR SORRY BUTTS UP HERE WITH ME, WHERE ST. PETER SHALL WATCH THEM, 24/7.

I'm not kidding. Manny and I have both experienced....well, life changing health issues. Manny has her kidneys and liver to deal with. I now have asthma and yet another possible head operation. (nice way of saying nasal rotor rooter) I got scanned today. Manny got biopsied yesterday. Both our results come back tomorrow.
In the meantime....we gotta make life changes if we wanna hang around and continue to play...in a nice way of course.

And so...as a means of making amends...this is my confession post. And I challenge Manny to do the same. (like before the results come back tomorrow and we both go down the toilet)

I have used my computer to irritate and annoy my sisters and son because...well, I thought it was funny.
I confess I did, in fact, take unflattering pictures and videos of Manny to post when she was too sick to chase me. And even later when....she got more feisty ..... but only cause I realized even if she tried to catch me....she'd never get that IV pole through the doorway in time to catch me before I got on the elevator.
I took them and basically told Manny:I have used my camera to take unflattering pics of the Squirrel because I thought they'd make funny Christmas videos......um....and possibly cards.
I took this pic of Jake to get even with him for the pooper scooper video he posted of me on U Tube when I was wearing my fat pants. (I'm not sure this is really a bad thing since he started it.)

I knowingly cheated, my friend Fred. (he doesn't read this so I can confess without hearing from him about it.) I paid off a bet to him with assorted grocery coupons instead of cash and claimed not to know any better.
Then I cheated again to win money on another bet.
I also cheated at boggle but they caught me. And it wasn't a total cheat anyhow. Maybe a little bit.

I have more but...I'm outa space. Cept, I ate Bob's oatmeal cookies and blamed it on Jake.

And I charged Jake 75% interest on money he five dollars he borrowed from me when he was in high school.
Also, when he was in 2nd grade, I sent him out front to wait for the bus on a day when there wasn't any school.
Ok. I feel better now. Manny's turn. (go over and post it manny. You'll feel better)

Labels: blackmail, cheating, debouchery, drinking, revenge

Disclaimer: The following movie may be too sexually stimulating for some people. View with caution. And remember gentlemen, I'm only one woman and I'm spoken for. So don't send flowers or expensive gifts. Money is ok. Cause that's just like paying when you go to the movies. No big deal.
I must say after viewing this myself, Bob is a lucky man. A man that lucky, might be inclined to buy his amazingly hot wife ..... oh..... like an i touch or something. You know ..... just sayin'...it would be a nice gesture.

I am creating the world's HOTTEST HNT, starring me, of course.

In fact, it's so hot, you men most likely won't be able to walk for two days. That's how hot it is. Yeah, that's right...I know what men like. And you all thought I couldn't be all sexy and stuff, just cause I'm kind of a Tomboy still. PAH! I'm all about sexy. Just wait and see. I know how to do these HNT thingies.

Yep, even women and animals are gonna be dreamin about me after this HNT. Maybe even really old people. Eunichs will want their equipment back. That's how sizzlin it is.

I'm going back to work now. I had to take a break cause I turned my own self on.

Labels: coming soon, hot, sexy

I will never be accused of being "a good soldier" when it comes to being sick. I'm sick. Hate it. Sick sucks. It's not natural. Bet I'm even gonna die or something. That's how miserable I am.

And OF COURSE, Conchita, my imaginary maid, is like....totally ignoring the dust bunnies playing tag under my bed with the rolling tumbleweeds of dog hair. I swear, SWEAR...some day I'm gonna fire that bitch and get a maid that really exists. Imaginary maids are worthless! She's no better than my imaginary masseuse, Sven.


Sound grim so far? Well, IT'S WORSE!
Bug man came yesterday to have a look at my ant problem in the bathroom. Course I had to get my sorry ass outa the bed to let him in cause....who wants to lay in bed with bug man walking around? Soon as he saw the ant carcasses he says, "This is worse than I thought. I'll be right back. I have to get my drill."

"Drill? Whatdoya' mean, drill?"

"They're in your walls," he called back over his shoulder.

"Oh well, that's just great! That's just dandy!" I muttered to myself cause NOBODY else was around but the ants.

Sure enough, he drilled holes all over the bottom of each and every wall in the bathroom and then drilled holes in my bedroom closet.

"bbbbb...but....I don't have ants in the closet," I protested.

"Good chance they're in the wall behind your shower or the bathtub. I can't drill into the shower wall. This is the only way. Might work. Might not. If it doesn't, we're gonna have to call a contractor. Have that shower torn out."

"SAY WHAT???? nuh UGH! whyyyyyy?"

"They'll eat your foundation. Don't wanna end up in the basement when you're takin' bath, do ya?"

"The basement isn't under here. It's the crawl space, " I snapped back, sarcastically. Instantly realizing what an idiot I sounded like. The fever, obviously is cooking my brains.

"You may start to see increased activity," he continued, undaunted. "24 hours or so, you may even see a hoard coming out of those holes. That's ok. We're flushing them out. Long as they act drunk. Not too energetic.""So...what am I supposed to do? Give 'em a friggin breathalyser? How do tell if an ant is drunk?"

"They'll stumble around. Be lethargic."

So here I sit now, fever, throbbing head, ringing ears, on the lookout for a bunch of drunk ants.
And you can bet your butt cheeks, that like Quinn, from Jaws....I'm gonna find em. I'm gonna find em...and I'm gonna kill em. No way I'm sittin' my ass in the crawlspace to take a bath!

Labels: bitch, drunks, maid, masseuse, murder

In the past two weeks I have retrieved from my mail box:

*One brochure entitled ...... But What if You're Alive Tomorrow? (if? What d'ya mean, IF?)
*Two invitations to check out the latest and greatest in Senior Living Communities.
*A neatly wrapped sample of Depends complete with coupon for 10 bucks off of future purchase. (FYI, I haven't pissed myself since the 6th grade and that wasn't my fault.)
*But my personal favorite was the letter from a life insurance company suggesting I "NEED" to buy life insurance because, "Don't you want the comfort of knowing your loved ones will continue to live comfortably after you're gone?"
ugh yeah. Lemme just address that. A) Last time I looked, I didn't have a fuggin job. Bob makes it. I spend it. Near as I can figure, best thing that could happen to Bob financially is for me to croak, which I'm not. Thank you very much. and, 2) There is NO WAY IN HELL I'm sending you money every month so you can send a check back to my house after I'm too dead to spend it. DOH! I might be dumb but, I ain't THAT dumb.

I am not in complete denial over the age thing. I have seen a couple of bitty changes. For instance, yesterday I leaned over to clean a reflective surface and my face skin fell forward like the jowls on a bassett hound. This is not good, but I can live with it.
More troubling by far, is this button embedded in my ass. It clicks to life the instant I sit down and serves two purposes. 1) urination stimulation. 2) Immediate memory recovery.
1. Basically you can be walking around, gathering up snacks for your favorite tv show, happy as a clam that you finally get to sit down. Sit, button activates, and ba da bing...ba da boom! You have to pee....RIGHT NOW!
2. There's something you came in this room to get. Something.......something......now.....what was that? Thinking ...looking.....thinking some more.......couldn't have been too important. Go back, sit down, INSTANTLY REMEMBER why you got up in the first place. Return to room to retrieve item, stop long enough to get drink of water, and blink-SNAP.....once again, you've forgotten. Why, because nobody's pushing the button! Sure enough....soon as your ass connects to the sofa cushion you not only remember what you forgot but .....you have to pee..... AGAIN!
I've been looking all morning and I can't find the damnable thing. But I know it's back there!

Labels: buttons, butts, depends, memory, snacks, tv, urination

The slobber queen refuses to let me do my sit ups in peace. And when I try to do push ups, she thinks I'm playing and tries to wrestle me.

The problem here, Lucy has outgrown her kennel. The heft of her big yellow self has cracked the heavy plastic floor in 8 places. This dog, now weighs almost 100 pounds. I'd put her on a diet but, she's not fat. Just ENORMOUS! Enormous and playful. I got up in the middle of the night to pee. Shuffled off to the bathroom and nearly broke my neck tripping over the giant wagging mound that is Lucy.

The other night Jake was playing with her with a red laser light. He ran it up the wall to the ceiling. Lucy decided to jump for it. Only thing that even left the ground were her two front feet and then...no more than an inch. No way that beast is gonna get airborn. She landed with a thud I bet you heard at your house.

Add to that, she's a cuddler. She HAS to be where ever I am. Now this is fine when I'm not moving. But when I walk from room to room she follows so closely there is no doubt in my mind if I make a sudden stop, she and I will have to be rushed to the emergency room to have her snout surgically removed from my anus.

As I type this, my trusty drooling companion, has her head on my lap, gazing up at me lovingly. I swear I can't feel my toes. Her fat head has cut off the circulation in my leg.

There must be some way to keep this dog busy. If I put her outside she tries to dig up the skunk hole so she can cuddle with them. Which we all, now know ....... they don't like so much.

OK PEOPLE GATHER 'ROUND. IT'S TIME FOR EVERYBODY'S FAVORITE GAME. WHERE'S CRABBY?

Labels: anus, beast, companion, golden retriever, sit ups, slobber

A couple weeks ago I joined Review Back. It's a site where bloggers go to find other bloggers they have something in common with, then exchange reviews for the betterment of mankind.
Ok! For our own selfish needs. There. Happy?

More days ago than I will admit to, I was approached by Tiff of Doom, requesting that we exchange reviews. Hesitantly, I approached her blog for a look see. Hesitant because what I have found at review back are about 10 million business and "how to" blogs. When you do find the regular blogs, you literally have to sift through dozens upon dozens of human wienies. (no offense to human wienies but I doubt you know who you are anyhow so...no worries)

First thing that caught my eye on her profile was, "I like to think of myself as a social disease. A big, bloggy social disease." Ok, I figured, maybe this one has possibilities.

"Tiff of Doom", is primarily what some reviewers refer to as, a "Mommy Blog". But tiff offers her own unique humorous perspective that makes this "Mommy Blog" a worthwhile read especially for those of you still rearing youngins.

Some highlights from Tiff's blog

After suggesting her daughter go trick or treating as a Zombie, Tiff began to fret over the fact that she might be messing with her daughter's mind on the spiritual aspects of death. So she decided to fix things by explaining what a Zombie was.
"This is like, a bad ghost that got inside a gross old dead person, who's been in the ground and had worms eating them."
(yeah, Tiff....that was lots better. LOL!)

Tiff gone postal
And I'm serious, about those eggs. When you least expect it, Arcadia Post Office, I am coming.

Finally, if you would like to recreate the birthday cake lovingly baked for Tiff by her 5 year old daughter, I've copied the recipe down for you. But know this. I am not eating that!
Cake of Doom

pepperoni
heath toffee syrup
strawberry yogurt
cool whip
fruit loops
eggs

You'll have to get the oven temp and baking time from Deirdre. LOL! They lost me after pepperoni.

If you'd like to pay Tiff a visit, you can find her here at TIFF OF DOOM.

Labels: pimps, review back, tiff of doom

This month's winnings have been donated to the American Diabetes Association in honor of Bob and Barman, and the millions of other Americans who deal with this disease every day. Tremendous strides have been made through diabetes research. Wouldn't it be nice if one day we found a cure so your children and your children's children, had one less thing in this world to fear?

Last months winnings were donated to PAWs. PAWs not only rehabilitates, injured, orphaned, and abused domesticated pets, but also our nations wildlife.

But it doesn't require prize money or extra cash to make a difference where one is needed. Many charities are happy to receive clothing and household item donations. You can clean out your closet and help someone in the process. It's a win/win! I donate to the Kidney Foundation almost monthly this way.

The United States of America is considered a wealthy nation. Yet the number of every day people just like you and me who are now sleeping in shelters, cars, and even under bridges is mind blowing. Many of our elderly are barely making ends meet. Scientists need funds to find cures for the diseases that plague us. And don't get me started on the complete lack of respect we show our environment.

There are things that need doing. And so many ways of getting them done. You can volunteer your time, your money, your old clothes! You can make a difference by speaking out. It doesn't have to be money. All we need, is to care.

Check out the charities of your choice online. Do what you can. Even if we each live to be a hundred and thirty, our time here is so short. Let's make it count for something.

Ok now, guys. I really need to clarify here. Please don't start thinking I'm St. Crabby of the Blog, or anything. I am NOT by any stretch of the imagination a consistent good person. I just get it right ....... sometimes. Not even real often. And half of those are an accident. Some things I feel strongly about, that's all.