We have a family of skunks living across the street and Lucy being the cuddler she is has become desperate to make friends with them. Wasn't a problem till yesterday when Momma skunk decided to walk her babies on our side of the road. Lucy saw her opportunity to cuddle with a new critter and.......well.......
The following pics below pretty much show how Lucy's day went.




Big stick. Good stick.













Find stink weed. Fun to roll in stink weed. Make Lucy smell like real dog. Not like puffy foo foo dog with bow on head across street.











NEW
NEIGHBORS!
GOOD TO CUDDLE.
LUCY WILL LOVE THEM
AND HUG THEM
AND KISS THEM
AND PLAY WITH THEM.










UGH OH!












LUCY NOT ALLOWED IN HOUSE. NOT ALLOWED CLOSE TO CRABBY. NEIGHBORS WON'T SCRATCH LUCY'S EARS. UPS MAN SAY, peeeeU!

LUCY ALL ALONE.

As you all know by now, my brand new car, (not even 2 months old) has been backed into, pummeled with gravel from an uncovered dump truck, and on the driver's side now bears a 3 inch scratch. No idea who did the scratching but they had white paint.

Well today, HOT DAMN! I got to see a woman park so close to my own car that I sat there wondering...How in thee hell is she gonna get out?

I took my seat belt back off and waited, ready to strike because frankly....I have had enough of this shit!





I saw the woman, sit there in her over-sized SUV and actually seem to consider, backing up and moving over. The parking lot, I swear to you, was empty with the exception of me and two employee vehicles. No reason at all to park right on my ass.

Damned if she didn't opt to try and squeeze her fat ass out of her car. And this was a BIG woman. She had to be 5'10" at least and big boned like a man. Squared off shoulders...wide. There is NO way she should have parked that close.

Just before she got out of her car she looked over and finally noticed me sitting there, watching. So very carefully holding her door the whole time she squeeeeeezed and squeeeeezed to try and get thru that bitty space. And she pulled it off too but..........she didn't make it past my side mirror, which btw, does NOT bend friggin' backwards!

I was outa my car so fast she didn't know what hit her. And I had PLENTY to say. and it felt GOOD! REALLY GOOD!

I don't honestly remember what all I said, only that it was loud. Meanwhile she kept saying she didn't really do any damage which made me more angry. And I can tell you that the Hollywood video folks were inside watching and laughing their asses off. I noticed them soon as I turned away from her. I'm guessing she'll be more careful about crowding other vehicles now. And I suppose I should be sorry for taking all my car frustrations out on this one woman but....SCREW THAT! I'M NOT SORRY!

Labels: bad women drivers, foul temper, lazy people

I have told my guys and told them, STOP BUYING ALL THESE PICKLES, PEPPERS, AND MUSTARD! So what did they do? They came home howling like a couple of hyennas with restaurant sized jars of all that crap.

I'm telling you, there's no place to put it. My pantry is overflowing. Even the floor is covered with this crap and the cases and cases of hot salsa they keep ordering on line.

Well sir. Big Momma is takin no prisoners. That crap is all on it's way to pickle heaven.

Saturday, our grandkids, were in what must be now on record, as the world’s longest dance recital. 10 hours. 3 kids. 1 Mom. All in different dance lines scheduled throughout the day. To catch one performance of each would require no less than 3 hours of butt numbing attendance.
Interesting note: Out of the 50 songs and dances we endured, our family was in ……6.

When we arrived Bob’s x-wife was already there along with her husband. Bob has what I like to think of as “social disease”. It requires him to stop and talk and visit with anyone he knows. Why? Because according to Bob….”it’s just polite.” I myself am not afflicted with, “social disease”, so I had no problem moving on to try and find what ever seat would be the least torturous. Sadly, there weren’t any.

To say the recorded music was loud would be like calling a tsunami wet and windy. I’m pretty sure I saw one of my ear drums rolling down the aisle during the “Ho” number. The seniors chose their costumes from Fredricks of Hollywood. (not kidding) and their music…I can only assume from, Ho Rap productions.

I confess I did snicker a little when, during one ballet, I looked over at Jake and saw him staring ahead, vacant expression on his face, his mouth hanging slack. And laughed out loud when the lady next to him began to lean into him so she could yell, “TIWANNA IS IN NUMBER 22! I SAID….TIWANNA IS IN NUMBER 22! DID YOU HEAR ME?” ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha! Talk about a wake up call. I think Jake mighta’ peed a little.

Payback didn’t take long. I was solidly drifting in my own mind to far corners of the world, when the woman next to me screamed, GO TIFFANY! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! I reminded myself that she was just a proud Mom and I should be nice. Right up until she started doing the damned tap number in her seat along with Tiffany knocking into my left leg and spilling my water all over my lap.
“LADY, KNOCK THAT CRAP OFF!” I asked, politely.

The last part of the show is a blur to me. Only part I remember is Bob talking into my ear. “Are you sleeping?”

“Only during the slow numbers.”

I’d just like to say, I hope and pray these kids drop out of dance SOON. I hate this crap. HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.

PS. My ass hurts like a bastard.

Labels: dance recitals from hell, idiot mothers, nutjobs

It was bound to happen. Happens every time I vow to be a better more compassionate human being. Life takes a great big steaming crap on my person a couple, 3 times and, blamo, the nice me whimpers....."oooo. can't we just be sweet to each other?" Which elicits an immediate negative retching reaction from my other personality. And.....THE CRABOLATOR emerges.

In the past several days Bob and I have worked "alone" cleaning out Miss Ellie's apartment while one sib, micro-manages from another state and the other sib and his bride have turned into the amazing disappearing couple. This is NOT a small amount of work.

Fine. I can deal. I just go in there, keep on workin' and get her done.

However, that's not the ONLY thing that's happened. My brand new car has been hit twice in 3 weeks. The first time some idiot in a dump truck was hauling gravel "uncovered"! The gravel flew out of his truck. We got whacked a number of times one of which put a nice little bullet hole looking series of cracks in my windshield. Would the guy pull over? NOPE!

We followed him back to the quarry where he tried to get out of taking responsibility, the little toad! (he lost)

Second time: Once again at Ellie's cleaning and packing "alone". One of her neighbors (in a nearly empty parking lot) backs into the front of my car. (important note: to do this she had to back all the way ACROSS an empty parking lot. Mind boggling, isn't it?) The good news here is, you can now easily see how they attach the side panel bumper to the main part of the car.

Bone tired, stressed to the maximum of my personal capabilities, I sat statue-like on the floor of the now empty bedroom. I could feel the drool running down the sides of my gaping maw as I continued mindlessly to sit ..... staring....staring...staring, until finally I got up and pronounced to Bob. "I'm going home now."

DON'T YOU DARE STOP READING HERE! IT'S NOT OVER.

In the car, Bob tries making conversation. I hear his voice but from far, far, away as I notice up ahead of us....yet another dump truck, this time with a covered load ..... only....it's not all the way tied down. All of a sudden debris begins to fly off the back the truck bouncing all over the highway hitting one car after another. Not the least of which, is........go ahead.....guess. Did you guess, MINE? YOU'RE RIGHT! The sound was rhythmic to the point of being almost hypnotizing. click click clickty CLUMP! click click click BING! Over and over. Oddly, Bob didn't seem to even notice. He says to me, "You sure are quiet. Are you ok? You're scaring me a little."

"Fine," I tell him. "Just watching this shit hit my car over and over and over."

"Damn!" he says. "Not again."

Once home, Bob got out to check the now battered to hell, less than 2 months old car, for additional damages. I decided not to look and instead retreated to the one place in the world where I could catch a breeze and possibly regain my sanity. My nice quiet, comfy, new patio on the ravine.

BUT NO, FUCK ME! My neighbor has installed brand new high powered speakers and apparently mounted them on the fence wall between our properties. And his bite-my-ass music is blaring into my yard, the ravine, and possibly.....your house! This is the 3rd night in a row for this crap.

In all honesty, I don't know exactly what happened just then and don't remember getting the gun. But get it, I did. What I do remember is slamming the clip home, taking off the safety, chambering my first bullet and opening the back door with ABSOLUTELY every intention of blowing those speakers to hell. That's when Jake shouted...."HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN'T TAKE A GUN OUTSIDE? ARE YOU CRAZY? YOU'RE GONNA GET ARRESTED! Oh, I don't even want to tell Dad about this one. PUT THAT GUN AWAY!"

I stood there, staring longingly from the weapon to my neighbors yard where now his 3 idiot dogs had begun barking. Nice little back up to the blaring music. I doubt he heard the dogs.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted.

Jake laughed but stood firm on the gun issue. "Put the gun down, Mom. I'm serious. You won't like prison. If you just talk to the guy I'm sure he'll turn the music down. Have you even tried talking to him?"

I didn't comment. Just took the clip out of the gun and walked away.

Today we discovered a big white scratch across the side of my car. The side that hasn't been backed into. I figure the next crash should probably come from the rear since every other side of the vehicle has been spoken for. I don't know when, where, or how. But it will happen. Why? I don't know.

I have been told to verbalize and not internalize. So today I begin....vocalizing. And heaven have mercy on anyone who screws with me. Cause they're gonna need it.

Labels: bad drivers, guns, inconsiderate assholes, irrisponsible truckers, worthless relatives

[Glitterfy.com - *Glitter Maker*]

CRABBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Where the hell are ya? Having a heatstroke, ya big yankee wussy? Bwaaahahahahahahaha!

Ask and Ye Shall Recieve

We received our first review yesterday from this fella, Good'N'Very'Plenty. You should run over there and have a look. We're under the heading, "Mmmmmm, Meat!" Scary title, huh? I was sure Milkmaid and I would end up not only on a short bus but possibly hangin' upside down over a barbecue pit, after seeing that.

Truth is, in my opinion, the dude made several valid points. One of which was our title has absolutely nothing to do with our content. Sadly, my brain doesn't work like everyone else's which makes it easy for me to put it all together neatly in my own head, forgetting that normal "thinking" people might not get it.

I'm pretty sure I'm busted out on the mensa thing. (sigh)

He didn't like our 3 column template. I think Milky and I would agree with that also. It's a little cramped. But Milky says the thing is held together with duct tape and felt overall he was fair on that too. (Now that I know how she does this tech stuff, I am soooo buying some duct tape so I can go behind the curtain and experiment. Duct tape. Who knew? Anybody else want me to experiment on theirs? I'm real creative.)

But enough. Go read it yourselves. And while you're there check out the other reviews. I've been going over to find cool blogs to visit. These folks are blunt, but often dead on the money with what they're saying.

The link is above and they're also listed on my blog roll.

PS. We have 2 more reviews coming. LOL! Yeah, I know. What was I thinking? But come on! You know it's fun. Even if we end up getting our butts handed to us by one of these guys.

In the meantime, a big thanks to, "Ask and Ye Shall Recieve", for taking the time to give us a look.

Labels: Ask and ye shall recieve, blog review

OOOOOOOOOOOOO. There are moments when an on-line, adopted brother is just too damn far away. This would be one of those moments. Imagine if you will, that you get a package in the mail. You open it and ...... these little babies roll out onto the counter. Exactly Miss Ellie's color! LOL!
So if somebody out there gets a hold of barman before I do, tie him up and don't let him go. Big sis has a can of "Whoop Ass", with his name engraved on it.
And who, pray tell, told him what color Ellie's eyes were? Hmmmmm?
I'm so gonna get you, bro. Oh and by the way, Bob thought it was hysterical. You have no idea how close I came to peeing my pants.

In other news today:
As I sat clacking this post out I spotted the first Jehovah's witness for this year approaching my house. There I stood, hiding behind the foyer wall, waiting him out. And down comes Bob to answer the damned knock. "PSSSSSSSST! PSSSSSSSSSST!" I waved, urgently hissing, "BOB NOOOOOO. DON'T OPEN IT!"
Not only did he look back at me quizzically but so did the dumb dog who could easily be seen through the lead glass door.
To all Jehovah's witness's out there who may be offended by this post. Sorry but nobody really likes you guys. Far as I'm concerned you're like cockroaches. Impossible to get rid of without a fight. And if there was a spray for you little suckers, I'd have an economy sized can of it. NOW GET!

Labels: brothers, google eyes, wet pants

I have complaints about this death thing. I don't much care it.

For starters, the funeral homes charge for refrigeration of your loved one. WHAT THEE HELL ELSE ARE THEY GONNA DO WITH 'EM? Have a visitation where the beloved departed smells like rotten hamburger?

Second, did you know an Urn for the cremated loved one can cost upwards of $800 smackers? Hell, I can go to Old Time Pottery and find a big pot for under $30. Or, if you're just gonna scatter the person's ashes...how about one of those disposable plastic things people take leftovers home in?

Here's a BEAUT for ya. You get 30 days to pay for the funeral. If said loved one had no money to speak of....you better be able to get your hands on 10 thousand or so, fast. And if you pay up front you can get a discount. Most folks are too far out of their minds to try that. Bob wasn't. He made them deal. LOL!

Then comes the disbursement of the properties. SHOOT ME PLEASE! This is the part we're on. We have a short amount of time to "get her done" or we'll be paying another month's rent and utilities on the apartment. So...perfect time for all the sibs to go completely bonkers. Only sane one in the bunch right now is Bob. The SIL has completely lost it. She wants absolutely everything to stay in the family. Anything we don't want she wants packed up and sent to her. Any idea how much it cost to mail furniture, pots, dishes, clothes, from Ohio to Texas?

In a recent act of defiance I have packed up and mailed off the two bottles of suppository laxatives I found in Ellie's frig when I cleaned it out.

These people better find their brains soon because I'm a busy woman. I have things to do, places to go. I mean....has it occurred to the two brothers just to lie their asses off to the sister? Hell, if they're too distraught or whatever to do it. I'LL DO IT! Just say, "Yes, we have it all in the family." How is she gonna know the difference?

So sad. It always falls to me to do the lying and the cheating. But, come on! Let's face reality here folks. It's the only way to, "get her done!"

Labels: cheating, lies, possesions, suppository, tupperware, urns