Awww: The Big Bad Terrorist Got Her Feelings Hurt

From The Week:

A convicted terrorist and murderer who was released from prison last month is suing a German tabloid—for calling her a terrorist and a murderer. Brigitte Mohnhaupt, 57, served 24 years in prison for nine murders she helped carry out in the 1970s as a key member of the Red Army Faction, a leftist terrorist group.

This poor chick. She spends 24 years in the German poke. I mean, she only took out nine folks when she was part of the Red Army Faction, right? As if it isn’t sad enough when one ends up spending all of one’s prime years in prison. But to get out, and to be ready to try to move on to a new life, say one where she can peddle Mary Kay products, only to find that the media is making fun of you for being such a sucky terrorist.

I mean, her ego must be completely shot. So, she decides to sue the rag that’s “defaming” her reputation as a kick ass terrorist, not a sorry excuse for one.

Sorry sister. You’re an idiot. Put your big girl panties on and handle it!


Fat From the Feeding Frenzy

Drama, drama, drama. Some of us tire of hearing it over and over. However, there are many, many folks out there who do nothing but sit and wait for drama, any drama, to happen.

They feed on what they are fed until a new feeding frenzy starts up.
Honestly, since Monday, how much have you heard about Anna Nicole and her circus of drama?

Not much, huh? Because the new frenzy has started. They’ll run the Virginia Tech angle into the ground until the next huge blog of drama drops into the laps of the media.

It’s not a new deal… to exploit the sorrow, sadness, tragedy of others.

  • Diana & Dodi
  • JFK Jr. & party
  • The D. C. Sniper
  • Jennifer “Runaway Bride” Wilbanks

Who cares?? Not me, but apparently lot of folks get sucked into huge drama to escape from their own.


He Should Have....

Taken the chicken bowls for life and run!

Sanjaya from American Idol was offered free tasty chicken bowls for the rest of his natural born life if he would just get a bowl cut before he got the boot.

Poor Sanjaya, no more idol, no more free chicken offer… what’s he gonna do now?

Mother In Law

Mother-in-Law. Those three words hyphenated together have somehow become the monster in the closet. Simple meaning from the dictionary: mother of one’s spouse.

If it were only that simple, huh?

Granted, I am a Mother-in-Law now that my beautiful, eldest daughter has taken that plunge into marital bliss. *eyes rolled waaay back into the head*

Presently, my view is that I am the most wonderful, giving, caring, patient, non-homicidal mother-in-law out there. I do it for my baby girl. Otherwise I’m sure I’d be a horn sprouting, pitchfork shaking monsters hiding and waiting for that boy to come around screw something up.
But, not me. I assure you.

My ex-husband’s mother was the devil reincarnated in female form. I kid you not. She was scary right down to the evil glint in her eye and forked tongue. She would aspire to purposely make me feel like I was treading on thin ice. That was generally verbal. But did she stop there? No, she is Korean. Everything she would cook was flavored up with just about enough fresh chopped red-pepper to kill a two ton rhino. “Takey Diva some that”.

Sure, thanks. Let me get right on eating that. I love my gastrointestinal tract to be lit up enough that when I fart, I shoot flames across the room.

Looking back, I should have taken it as a sign. He has never, nor will he ever be anything but a mama’s boy. She buys his pants, his shirts, he boxers and socks. She does his laundry. No wonder the man moved back in with her when before the ink on our divorce papers was even dry.

What kind of man was she raising? I’m not all to sure about it, but I know she was in definite competition with me for his affection.

Good for her though. I got out of having to wash his vine ripened socks.

The above thoughts bring me to the following point, which was inspired by my favorite rag-mag.

Could one actually live with one’s mother-in-law on a more or less permanent basis??

I for one, would never even consider living with my significant other’s mother. Even if she was an angel just like me, I couldn’t do it. Two alpha-females in one house is a design for disaster.

I’m just glad to know that Tom and Katie are going through it too. Tom’s mom and other family members all live in the house with the happy couple.

Is Katie going to be able hang on?? She has to deal with Mr. Cruise, and his mother.

My thought is: No way!! I give them another year at the most if THE MOTHER IN LAW doesn’t get the boot.


Coffe Shop vs. Tuff Chick

I’m a karaoke junkie by nature. Started by accident really. I finished my sentence on the second shift at Rocky Top Farragut and decided I deserved a cold beer and some tasty boneless chicken wings. Across the street I go to BullFeathers… found it interesting to see and hear all the folks trying to sing a song.

It was a few weeks before I’d gathered up the nerve to eek out a song. It was hilarious. I sang Manic Monday by the Bangles. And I sucked wind big time!

So, I wondered if I could sing anything else any better. I told my daddy that I was having so much fun making a complete ass of myself, and he went out and bought me a home karaoke machine with 10 CDs. Go Daddy!

So, I tried me some country. Um, let’s just go with not. I was told I haven’t got enough ‘twang’ in my voice to sing any kind of country. Thank God!!! Diva don’t got no twang!!!!
Scratch country.

So, it’s the B97.5/coffee shop stuff I’ve found I’m pretty good at.
I can sing the devil out of Fleetwood Mac. Diva Nix over here.
Love Norah Jones and any kind of oldie but goodie.

But sometimes, I’d love to have a little more of a brazen streak. I want to belt out something that only a bad-ass-chick would do.

Janis Joplin - Bobby McGee
Joan Jett - Do Ya Wanna Touch
Heart - Magic Man

Not that I’m knocking my easy listening and soft rock talent, but…

Why can’t I be a bad-ass-chick??

Scientific Fact: Fat Floats

From Fox News:

A 35-year-old Orlando man can thank his 300-pound girth for helping save his life after he jumped off a cruise ship and drifted 20 miles for more than eight hours with a collapsed lung before rescuers found him in the Atlantic Ocean.

Regardless whether I knew my fat would float or not, I would not be jumping off of a perfectly fit rowing boat. That’s just lame. But, Michael Mankamyer did it. More than one witness has come around and said that “he jumped”.

Despite reports that he had “fallen” overboard, theoretically there is no way that could happen. It’s not like he was some tiny little thing that just slipped through the safety rail. No. This is a 300 pound fella.

Now, if you’ve seen the picture of this guy, the story might be explained. He just looks like that kind of goofy, attention-whore who will do anything to be in the class clown and/or the center of attention. You know, the college buddy who always got tanked before midnight and by half past, he was hanging naked from the roof of the frat house.
Jeez, buddy. Couldn’t ya have just talked all of your pals into a bad night of drinking and karaoke?

That’s it. I’ve made a snap decision to stop dieting and to stop going to the gym.
So, if on my honeymoon, I get tanked and take a wrong turn and fall off a big old rowing boat, I’ll be able to float around until they come back to find my fat behind.

He’s just lucky the Pirates weren’t out and about or he would have gotten so dunked for nothing more than being less than genius.


Back Away from the Donut, Lardbutt!

Once in while (wink, wink) I'll hear, see or read something that just gets my panties all in a wad.
I have several 'sore subjects', but the one that makes gets my dander up more than anything is the fat people of the world looking for something to blame it on. PLEASE.

As one who has struggled for just shy of one year to lose damn near 70 pounds, I can tell ya this:

~ No, fat is not genetic
~ No, you don't have big bones
~ No, you can't lose weight by starving yourself or taking pills.

Fat people are fat because they have not made the decision to motivate and get moving.
There is no miracle pill that you can take to make fat melt. There is no miracle cream that you can rub on your thighs and make them magically disappear into thin air.
Short of surgery, which is an extremely ill idea to begin with, there is only one answer to the timeless question asked of the rolly-polly types:
I wonder how I can lose this weight.

Here's a few pointers (from the master, herself):

1. Step away from the donut. The donut is evil. The donut will find it's way down your throat and into your guts, where it will then be disbursed and particles of that donut will live in your hips and double chin forever.
Other foods that should be in diet hell are: snicker bars, cheesecake, lasagna, loaded potato soup, all mexican food

2. Taco Bell has always been my weakness. However, one day whilst in a bored situation, I was reading what actually goes into some fast food food. EEEWWWWW.
If the fact that most fast food is swimming in grease, lard, oil or someother non-digestable mess isn't enough to keep you out of the french fries, then go one night around 10 and watch the fry guy at McDonald's empty that big vat of yack that they fry everything in.
MMMMMM< MMMMM< Good, I tell ya. Makes me wanna spew.

3. Starvation. Um, if you don't give your body something healthy to eat, it's wired up to know that your dumb ass is trying to starve it. Ask me, what's my body gonna do if I don't eat???
Your body is gonna hold on to every single nasty, blobby little molecule of cellulose that it can. You will not lose anything if you starve because your body will be freaking out thinking it's never going to get to eat again, so it holds onto what it already has. One must eat to lose weight, funny huh?

4. Get your fat ass on a treadmill!! My fat ass started out doing 15 minutes at 1.5 miles an hour on the treadmill. And amazingly, what those dang nutritionists and exercise therapists have been saying all along was true. YOU GOTTA DO BOTH DIET AND EXERCISE!!!!
You can't sit around and be a slug. Get off your butt and walk around a little amigo. Your body will thank you for it.

So, I guess the bottom line is, you're only fat if you choose to be fat. I'm a sport, I can admit it, I'm still a little fluffy around certain sections. But I've learned that I can't blame anyone but me for letting me get out of control. I was a scale tipper, and its a battle everyday.
This is why it chaps my ass to hear all this bull-caca about fat being genetic and fat being a disease...
I stand here today, calling BULLshit, DEFCON 5!


Natural Selection

With the whole Anna Nicole debacle of late, I find myself wondering why some people do the things that they do which in turn result in an untimely death of said person.

And with all of my deep thoughts of whys and hows, and with trying to come up with some super interesting reason, I've decided it's simply a case of natural selection. Let's take un momento to analyze how I have come to this conclusion.

Example 1- The jack ass from Iraq who mailed a letter bomb, which was returned to him for insufficient postage. The bomb blew, he's dead. Why? Natural selection. Somebody stupid enough to be mailing letter bombs in the first place should get blown up by some means. The fact that it was by his own bomb makes it epic.

Example 2- The rocket scientist who decided to ride a jet-ski off of Niagara Falls, hit the home-made rocket to shoot him over the past the falls, and get picked up upon landing.
Duh. What kind of dork puts a plan like that into motion? I seriously wonder what the last thing he thought was.... "Oh shit, Batman, this ain't gonna work!?!?!"
Hello, natural selection. Somebody stupid enough to go over Niagara Falls in the first place hasn't go enough common sense to walk and chew at the same time... Natural selection.
Luckily, this guy didn't have time to procreate any off-spring as he was too busy making dud rockets.

Example 3- In the not so distant past, most of the railroad crossings here in the United States didn't have any kind of warning system in place to warn motorists that a train was coming. As if looking to your left and seeing that 118 tons (give or take) of steel, bolts, nuts, and steam barreling down the tracks isn't enough to tell you a train is coming, idiot.

So, local governments nationwide began putting up railroad crossing signals. You know, you've seen them... the flashing red lights on either side of the road, the huge bar that drops down blocking an idiot motorist from getting to close to the tracks, the loud bells that scream "dang, dang, dang"... right. So, these precautions are in place for what reason? Anybody?
They are in place for people who are too blind, or too careless to see that 118 tons of death on a track is coming right at them at possibly 50 MPH.

However, the epitimy of stupidity is the motorist who is just so sure he/she can make it around that huge arm barrier to the other side of the track before that 118 tons of death on a track gets to them. Ooops, doesn't work out quite so well every time. One occurrence in Silicone Valley, CA, shows us that regardless of all the bells and whistles in place, some people are just too ignorant to think can be smited from this Earth. Natural selection? I think so.

I suppose I would hate to do something really stupid that resulted in death. Seriously. If you don't want to die of a deadly cocktail of drugs, hello... don't do the cocktail of drugs.
If you don't want to die by hitting the water/rocks at 100 MPH, don't jump, rocket, jetski, boat, or swim over Niagara or any other falls.
If you don't want to go down in your family history as the moron who tried to beat up the train, don't try to out run the train...

Pretty simple, kids.

Legal Cannibalism?

I was listening to WATE news this morning while I was getting ready to go to work. I just about poked my eye out with my mascara wand when I heard them say that the vote was 18 - 12 on the bill that Tim Burchett has sponsored which would allow any adult (over 21) driver of a motorcycle could ride legally without a helmet.

Well, now there's a really good idea. I'm really a simple minded girl. But, the possible outcome of letting a bunch of YA-hoo's run rampant on the roads with nothing there to protect what brains God gave them doesn't sound all to smart.

Scenario: Let's jump onto a land missile, gun it up to 125mph, dart in and out of traffic, and hope with all that's good, that we don't get into an accident wherein we fly off of the motorcyle, sail 100 feet through the air, land on or whack our head and spill our brain out all over the road for everybody that passes by to see.

Burchett, who is a Rep. senator from Knoxvegas, was catapulted to fame with his "We should have the right to scoop up that possum from the side of the road and eat it" bill of 1999.

So, within this rant I wish to pose two questions:

1. If a dork on a crotch rocket decides to fore go the helmet, gets in a horrific crash and subsequently dies, wouldn't that, in theory, be considered natural selection?
Think about it, if a body is stupid enough to rip and roar down the freeway without some sort of protection on said head, isn't it a matter of natural selection. The stupid ones go to make way for the more intellectually superior?
Not to imply that I think someone who rides with no helmet should go die, not at all. I'm just saying USE YOUR HEAD PEOPLE.

2. The second question that came to mind when considering this bill, along with the ding-dong that supported it is this: If we in the Great State of Tennessee are legally allowed to chow down on some tasty raccoon, possum, deer or whatever else may fly out in front of us, does that mean cannibalism of the dork-non-helmet-type- motorcycle rider is legal?

I don't eat meat, so I gain nothing from this theory. Just having a little fun.


So, I'm A Catty Bitch ~ Sue me

First, I have to say love is grand. Love is the greatest feeling in the world, especially if it is true love and the other person is the one you intend to spend your forever with. I will preach that day and night. I am indeed in love with the man I intend to spend forever with and I cherish him very much.

However, in a relationship (and my fiancee agrees) two people can still maintain relationships and friendships that were in place prior to the meeting of said significant other. Individual identity is what attracted you to that other person and that other person to you to begin with.

What is the point here? Well, the point is that just because I have found someone that I love, cherish and want to spend forever with, doesn't mean I wish to cut the friends I had in my life before him out of it.
If nothing else, I wish for us to remain close. Yes, there will be less time out for me. No, I won't attend every Wednesday night gathering. But IT IS NOT because my man doesn't encourage it and IT IS NOT because I love my friends any less.

It is simply because I have a teenage daughter who really needs me to be home. It is because I sometimes get to steal a weekday with my fella and his kids.

Just because I'm not there all the time doesn't mean that I don't want to hear the stories about who did what, or in our case, see the photographic evidence.
Just because I'm not always there, doesn't mean that I am turning my back on my friends. Just because I'm not always there doesn't mean that any one of them can't call me in the middle of the night to cry on my shoulder if they need to.

I am dedicated to spending my forever with HIM. I am very much in love. But my friends were the ones who cried with me when I was sad. They laughed with me when I was tickled about something. They are there through thick and thin. I love them and I will always want to hear the sappy dating drama (tales) and I won't just be smiling a fake fucking smile and shaking my nappy fucking head acting like I care. I will be listening intently, most likely holding my gut from laughing so hard and truly caring about what words are passing from my friends' mouth to my ears.

Ok, now specifically to you, the one who pretended to be our friends. Who the hell do you think you are? Seriously? Do you think you're high, mighty and perfect?
These girls all befriended you when you had nothing but extra belly fat.
No, girl, see this one loud and clear.... YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE ANY OF US.
At least I've heard that's what you said....

1. Friends don't molest someone else's man. There were plenty of occassions that you blatently stuck your tongue down the throat of a taken man. Granted, Ron was not mine... but the other man in question was a claimed man. You had no respect for boundaries and no respect for your girlfriends.
WHICH SHOWS YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE ANY OF US because there is not a single one of us who would look twice let alone deep throat one of the other girl's boyfriend.
Just not kosher... not acceptable....

2. Friends don't just quit talking to friends. If nothing else, when a happy event such as an impending wedding or pregnancy is on deck, I would think a girl would want her friends close by.
WHICH SHOWS YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE ANY OF US because I would be honored for all of my friends and family to be there when I say I do.

Either you didn't want us getting close to your man because you know that paybacks are a bitch... or you were horrified that if you let him speak to us, that he would find out about your legendary exploits on the skank side.

Hmmmm..... go figure.Everybody pulls a drunk now and then... get over it. Hey Dorothy.......

Elevator madness

Annoying Things To Do On An Elevator?

1) CRACK open your briefcase or handbag, peer Inside and ask "Got enough air in there?"
2) STAND silent and motionless in the corner facing the wall without getting off.
3) WHEN arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act as if you're embarrassed when they open themselves.
4) GREET everyone with a warm handshake and ask him or her to call you Admiral.
5) MEOW occasionally.
6) STARE At another passenger for a while. Then announce in horror: "You're one of THEM" - and back away slowly
7) SAY -DING at each floor.
8) SAY "I wonder what all these do?" And push all the red buttons.
9) MAKE explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
10) STARE, grinning at another passenger for a while, then announce: "I have new socks on."
11) WHEN the elevator is silent, look around and ask: "Is that your beeper?"
12) TRY to make personal calls on the emergency phone.
13) DRAW a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers: "This is my personal space."
14) WHEN there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder, then pretend it wasn't you.
15) PUSH the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
16) ASK if you can push the button for other people but push the wrong ones.
17) HOLD the doors open and say you're waiting for your friend. After a while, let the doors close and say "Hi Greg, How's your day been?"
18) DROP a pen and wail until someone reaches to help pick it up, then scream: "That's mine!"
19) BRING a camera and take pictures of everyone in the lift.
20) PRETEND you're a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the Passengers.
21) SWAT at flies that don't exist.
22) CALL out "Group hug" then enforce it.
23)bring a whoopie cushion and use it when people are there

At the right time

First and foremost I have to say that we have all had our emotional trials and tribulations in the past year. Some way more serious and real than others, but none the less we've all rode that rollercoaster together.

Of course, all referring the pirates that have stuck together. You said that you felt empty and that you were a runner. Hello baby... we've all been there. Fact is, that not a single one of us can say we haven't shut out the important people in our lives and dwelled within our own self trying to find out what the hell is going on in our own little pirate heads. I will step up to the plate and admit that Diva did her fair share of melting down on occasion (wink wink) during 2006. Yes, we all had rumblings of dismay with each other here and there. Yes, we all kind of butted heads and we all kicked sand at the umpires.

We can argue. We can say things that might be bitchy or sarcastic (again, I've said my fair share of things that were totally bitchy since last February)... we can stray from our friends and withdraw. And sometimes all our TRUE friends can do is take a step back and let us deal with our demons, and eventually get over whatever it is that's bringing us down only to find our friends standing there, with open arms waiting to grab us back and tell us how much they love us now just like they always have... I, like you, am a proud yet humble and grateful recipient of that love. Back in the spring of 2006, when I first met you and Becky, I was hurting and alone and in such desperate need of TRUE FRIENDS that would love me, grow with me, kick me in the ass when I need it. And that is what I found when I found all y'all.

You know, when me and Tony found one another I was so thankful that it wasn't one minute sooner. I wasn't ready. I've come to realize, God blesses us with what we need... not when we want and ask for it, but when HE feels that our life is ready to share with another. Think back, if I had met Tony six months ago, do you really think I had it in me to nurture an infant relationship into love? We all know the answer to that one don't we.... Absolutely NO. I, like you, and Becky, and Robyn, was blessed with someone special when my life was in order to be shared.

Cheers to you, baby! For your ability to recognize, and conquer, your demons. Glad to have you back and estatic to see you happy.

Love ya!
The Diva

24-Bar Break - Farewell my friend

Girl, I think we are all so numb right now that this really happened. Your smile, you laugh, your 24 bar breaks, your 1/2 sweet 1/2 unsweet tea, your friendship...
You know though, I wouldn't have taken one cent for the year I have been able to say that you are my friend. Every smile, every hug, every time I ran from your camera. Girl we all made some awesome memories together. I've said it before and I'll say it again. We all found each other when we all needed something. God gave us each other and though you're gone, you're really still here with each one of us.

So many surveys, so little time *jeez*

We get these surveys and we all put in canned one liner answers. And honestly, how many times do you have to answer the same question about what color your underwear are or how many times in the last 3 weeks someone else has slept in your bed?
No, I'm not on a high horse. I am one of the most guilty individuals that I know. If I am bored at work or have nothing to do and there is a survey sitting there in the bulletins, it's like a train wreck. I have to look. And then, before I know it, I am committing a crime against all that is right in the world and tap, tap, tapping my keyboard, filling in the answers.

A Little Sad

In general I try to be a believer that most people are telling the truth about the little things. I mean, what would one have to gain by telling stupid little white lies about little things that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things... until they are lied about. Then they become a problem.

In my simple little mind, if one will lie about the smallest of frivolous things, what would make me think that the same one wouldn't lie about something big?
Is this any way to find trust? I honestly think not.

If you don't want to do something, don't do it. But when you are asked if you are doing it, and you aren't doing it... be honest and say, "Well, I decided not to and that's why I'm doing this instead".

It is as simple as that. Resolved in one simple sentence. Now I am sitting here wondering if little things are falsehoods often