He, I mean She, I mean He…. Wants What?!?!?!

So, I’m pretty much sick of thinking and talking about Paris and Lindsey. I’m over Anna Nicole, her monasery of man whores and her kid.

Thank God there was something fun in the news today!

This dude, err, chick, err, well I think its still a dude, Robert Kosilek, wants the state of Massachusetts to pay for his sex change surgery.

Um. Yah. He just isn’t happy being a he and isn’t going to be happy living as a he anymore, dammit!

Whatever!!

This asshat killed his wife in 1990 after she dumped hot tea on his testicles. I’d probably have dumped hot tea on his testicles too, but I would have run for the hills and not looked back.

Apparently she wasn’t that smart and he strangled her. How I don’t know. I can only assume that if I had hot tea spill on my nuts, I’d be in the fetal position crying like a baby.

Anyhoo. So, this guy has been in jail for murder for many moons. Now, I don’t know about ya’ll, but I am all for swift offing of anybody who is a murderer. I mean, why are we wasting our tax dollars on feeding and showering these folks? I am not tolerant of blatent evil or being mean for the sake of it, but I think there are way too many murderers, child molesters, and rapists in prison, living the good life, instead of getting a needle in the vein.

And this jack ass wants the state to pay to remove his penis and give him a vagina? If they do it, I hope he gets molested by the biggest, baddest man in the prison.

Any Tom, Harry, or Dick in society would be fighting with a multitude of shrinks to get the sex change, not to mention spending a small fortune on the operation itself. How in the world could his request even have gotten so far as to have made it into court? And not only did it make it into the courts, but an obscene amount of money has been spent on mental evaluations of this guy because he keeps threatening suicide. Good God, let him do it!

Dang, give me the needle or let me have control of the switch, I’ll euthanize him and save the fine tax paying citizens of Mass. a whole lot of money.

Toby Keith - Hottie of the Moment

Ok. If I’m nothing else, I’m completely honest and tend to let all my inhibitions fall to the ditch with my pals in our little blogging world. Since only a few of you know me on a totally personal level, and have never seen my face, and could most likely not pick me out in a line-up… I don’t mind sharing my innermost thoughts with you… even if they are sometimes a little off.

So, we were at Catscratch Jane’s, and Scotty reminded me that I was going on about how much of a hottie Toby Keith is. Yes, it’s true. I’d sop that boy up with a biscuit.

In the midst of a discussion about blogging a “Hottie of the Day” about Toby Keith, I (without thinking, of course) blurt out that, “I have had so many wet dreams about Toby Keith, I can not possibly do him justice in a blog”…

So… I will not attempt to discuss why Toby is such a hottie, but will continue seeing him “Dream walkin and Pillow talkin”.

I will recess now to the confines of my cold shower.
Peace. Out!

Monday Melee de la Diva

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

I hate the fact that there are so many awful people out there that would wait until their wife/girlfriend/lover is about to burst at the seams with impending child birth and kill them. I mean, come on. If a man is cheating, or doesn’t want a baby, or whatever… WALK OUT ASSHOLE! Don’t kill her because you are a bottom-feeding freak of nature.
Don’t prey on someone who is in too vunerable a condition to be able to appropriately fight back. She (and her baby) has a right to live.
Pure evil.
And, as usual, drama queens and attention whores will forever be something I just loathe.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
I have only one in mind, and I’m not so sure it would be a good thing. So, since I can’t say something nice today, I’ll keep my yap shut. ZZZZZip.
I will expose myself though. I am a complete fake. I am not the sweet, kind, loving, caring, angelic individual that you all know and love.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
I’m unhappy that I am simply not a morning person. I would go so far as to say I’m anti-morning. I manage to drag myself out of bed just in time to have a shower, pour some coffee down my throat and drive to work with my head hanging out the window in order to get that wicked windblown look. So, I am unhappy that I can’t appreciate a new day any earlier than 5:00pm.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
Today I give my fiancee complete and total credit for putting up with my constant string of shit. I generally give him a run for his money. But, lately I’ve been extremely emotional (imagine that) and have been taking him on the rollercoaster ride of the century. Lately I’ve been worse than a spoiled 5 year old. He over looks my sarcasm most of the time and doesn’t take it totally personal. Go Tony. You’re one hell of a man, man.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I think it’s good that I can admit being a total ass-munch. See #4.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
This week to hurry and be over. We go on vacation next week. So, all the good stuff I wished for on last week’s Melee may just come true.
At least the cold beer and sex part.
Go Diva, Go Diva, Go Diva

The Beauty of....

ON DEMAND!!!! Yes!

Every so often I get bored and turn on the boob-tube. As usual, I am sorely disappointed that I pay SATAN (Comcast blog) a hundred bucks or so a month for 197 channels on which there is not a damn thing to watch.

However, there is a slight redeeming quality to my personal hate of beelzebub. On-Demand! Yay!

Now where else will one find such an unlimited supply of good stuff?
My joy stems from the fact that I found TubeTime, and this isn’t the first time I’ve experienced such utter happiness.

Today, I found *sniffle, tear* Fantasy Island, my friends!

How could I possibly resist?
Well, what other show can take viewers into the past, into the future, into kinky love affairs?
But wait! That’s not all, folks! Your host for the journey is a sexy dude, with orange skin, a white leisure suit, and a midget!

Some freaky crap went on there on Fantasy Island… Scary, sometime criminal things. You know how warped folks can be when they are fantasizing. Anyhoo, Mr. Rork, lets these demented people have their freaky fantasy (generally with ill results waiting in the wings), only to step in at the last second and save the day!

At the end of the day, all visitors get a lei and fly off on ZEEEplane.

Wow. On-Demand! You’re my hero.

Twin Blow Out - PreGame Festivities

[ Blogged in realtime, Wednesday, 20-Jun-2007, kinda like that stupid TV show 24, but without that asshat kid of Donald Sutherland’s… ]

Here we are folks. It’s a wonderfully balmy Wednesday night at CatScratch Jane’s. I’m sitting with a bird’s eye view of all the going’s on. Karaoke is getting ready to kick off and it looks as if all the regular crowd (good and bad) has started peppering in.

The Twin Blow Out is starting here tomorrow, but the biker boys on their motor-scooters are plentiful. The patio’s a-buzzing, the inside is buzzing. We’re looking forward to an eventful night. Bring on the singers.

A real blow-out, right? Uh. No. It’s another train-wreck. That’s what I get for being all amp’d up for a party! Thus far we have heard a not-so-right-on rendition of “Live and Let Die” (help me!). Now we are on to the worst drunken interpretation of “You Look So Good In Love” that I’ve ever heard… whining included.

The place is packed. Folks are piled up everywhere, inside and out. I’m dying for a beer. But dammit, it’s busy. I’m going to wither up and fall in the floor from lack of alcohol. But as I sit here, waiting for Cutie Pie (our beer wench) to surface, I think to myself “Damn, girl! You’re hair looks gooood!”

Finally! A hot guy is getting up to sing. I missed his name, but he’s wearing a polo shirt and baseball cap. He’s singing Toby! You go, boy! Mercy me, yes. He sure should have been a cowboy.

I’m still waiting on my beer. It’s nearly 10pm. Through the open windows I hear the clank of the triangle being busted by a gaggle of pool shooting biker boys. Now and then a loud, orgasmic burst of noise comes when one of the bikes fire up.

Ya know, Christmas is coming up. Harley. Under the tree. Big red bow. Thanks in advance to whomever decides to make this purchase for me. I’m obliged.

Finally, at 9:55pm, Mark drags his ass in. ”Log the time, Scotty!” He has mercy and goes to hunt Cutie Pie for my beer. Bless you, hon. I was withering.

By 10 I’m thinking, “I thought this was going to be the kick off to a bad ass biker weekend party… it’s more like B-97.5 night in the local geriatric ward.” Never has an hour seemed more like ten. Never have I wanted someone to shoot me in the ears worse than I do right this very minute. “Log the time, Scotty!”

10:01. Scotty is so excited to be here that he’s taken to watching the drag queens on the t.v. above the bar. *snicker* You dirty boy, you. But wait: Here comes Nike! He’s belting out some bad ass Lionel Ritchie love song, The boy possesses the ability to wake up a bored and otherwise depressed drinking crowd.

Oh my, what’s this? The heavens have opened up and some good singers with some happy ditties are now on a roll. Joe hops up and belts out a soulful blues number (he really rocks the hell out of the blues). Now if we can talk him into losing his “Bat Outta Hell” CD… *wink wink* You know I love ya, Joe.

I belted out some goodies too, if I do say so myself. I dueted with Cowboy Billy-Joe-Tom-Bob and sang “Dontcha.” He kicks ass on the rap part. Freestyle baby!
I then attempted to do the night justice, with Nike’s help, by belting out “At Last” … the Etta James classic. Choice. Very choice.

My news reporter skills are being diminished by the amount of cold beer and Jack Daniels I have consumed. At this time, all I can really say is that everytime I get up from my corner booth, I end up grabbing this poor girls ass. So, I end up making light of it, in my regular Diva style. I own up to it. I look her in the eye and tell her, “I’m sorry for grabbing your ass everytime I get walk by!”

“Log the time, Scotty!” It’s 11:14, and I’m drunk. Food ordered. Yah! I comment to Scotty that we are evil. He says “No, we’re just honest.” Good one.

Finally. Something note-worthy. A drunken skank finally falls out of her chair into the floor. NEXT! Scotty dies laughing, and notes the time is 11:23.

Food on tap. CatScratch has the best food around. Especially if too much alcohol has been consumed. Cue the onion rings.

And the french fries.
Scotty is in the loo, so I’m logging the time as 11:34.

So, if tonight was any forecast of the drunken festivities that are to go on for the next several days at CatScratch… all I can say is WOW! Good luck with that!
I maintain here and now, I’m Diva enough to stay on the porch, because I certainly can’t keep up with the big dogs. *rolls eyes*

Thoughts from A Booth In A Bar

Just imagine. Picture it in your head.

Diva is sitting in a quiet, corner booth at Catscratch Jane’s. It’s 9:30pm on a Wednesday night. Diva is occupying this booth solo. This situation is surreal, and I started thinking. And for me, thinking is usually not a good thing when beer is involved.



My 1st thought is this: I am sitting here, alone. Am I bummed that my friends aren’t here? Am I feeling as if my friends have deserted me for bigger and better things? Do I feel like I am being neglected? Am I getting bitter? No. No. No. No. And no.



I am actually quite content with my life and the way it’s turning out. I’m glad to see all of my friends are happy, content and satisfied in where the last year has taken them. I am totally capable of amuzing myself and having fun in the situation I find myself in.



My second thought: Yes, I miss my friends. But, we have a lifetime of memories made in the short span of approximately one year. It’s not often that a group of mis-matched people come together like we did. Every single one of us had some sort of need that this rowdy, loud bunch was filling. Why, it was only a year ago that we all magically morphed to Catscratch Jane’s. And dear Lord, the place wouldn’t be the same for several months.
Then something happened. We all started to settle down. Some of us fell in love. Some of us found satisfaction in our careers… Regardless of what it was, we all started to find what we were looking for in life.



All of this brings me to a minor crash in self-analyzation. I’m 100% secure to know that, although I’m sitting quietly in a corner watching the goings on around me, we all meant and still mean alot to each other. In some cases, we’re far apart in our physical being. In some cases, we’re just right down the road. Regardless, we are still together in soul. Pirates deep down? Maybe just a little… that Pirate dwells in each one of us forever.



We are really fortunate to have had the opportunity to build bonds that keep us close enough to have a quick lunch, early dinner, a cold beer, or even just a comment on MySpace. God bless technology.



I really do love where my life is now. But I still thank God every day that I’ve been blessed with a bounty of friends ~ near and far~ ~old and new~
Sappy, yes. But, sometimes even Pirates can be sentimental.


















A toast to you, my friends. May you find love, happiness and everything your heart desires.

Monday Melee de la Diva - 6/18/07

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

I hate that there are some people in this life that take everything that happens to them seriously. I guess you’d call them drama queens/kings. These are the people that must have everything revolve around them. These are the people who keep the shit stirred. And if they don’t have their own shit stirring, they go and stir some for someone else… just to keep something going at all times.
People like this need to be bitch-slapped. Real problems are drama. Not the fact that your lay of the day, whom you’ve found on an internet dating site, is seeing no less than 4 other people at the same time as you. This is not drama. This is poor judgement.
Real life drama is loosing a child. Real life drama is wondering how you’re gonna pay the rent. Real life drama is your car breaking down and having no money to fix it.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.

Paris Hilton. I know it seems like I’m obsessing over her lately. Maybe I am because I’m bored and have no real life of my own. Regardless of that, the skank is totally a fake. Just because she’s locked up in a cage, she’s claiming to have found Jesus. She told Babs Walters that she’s been reading the Bible and other and a sorted variety of other religion-inspired books.
First, I’m not so sure that after only 4 days in jail that the girl had time to read AND ABSORB enough information out of the inspired books. Look, it takes biblical scholars years and years of reading and studying to make heads and/or tails of the Bible. And she wants to convince all of us common folk that she’s really getting into it and learning something.
B- Anybody who watches E! News (or Fox or CNN for that matter) has heard about the humongus “Paris is getting out of jail” bash that’s being planned. Do you think that she’s gonna read enough about Jesus and righteous living that she’s not gonna turn up a bottle and get ripped? Me either.

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

I’m extremely unhappy that I went outside on a scorching hot Sunday afternoon to wash my car. I did a bang up job too. I even cleaned the wheels with that crap that can eat the skin off of your hands. It looked super great!
I went in the house to get a glass of ice water. When I came back outside 10 minutes later a bird had already shit on the trunk.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

I give my kids credit today. After all that he put them through while they were growing up, they still try to treat their dad with some sort of love and respect.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

I am coming out of “sloth” mode and getting motivated to do something and be somebody again. Which actually feels really, really good.

6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

I think I’ll wish for sex this week. Sex and days off from work. Sex, days off from work and a new car. Sex, days off from work, a new car and to win the lottery.
Sex, days off from work, a new car, to win the lottery, and lots of beer. Yah, that would make today alot of fun. Sex, on my extra day off, in my new car that I got with my winnings from the lottery which was sponsered by a beer company.
Yah, that’s it.

Bearded Lizards & Lightnin' Bugs

My household is short one member this morning. My daughter is super sad.

I woke up around 1-ish this morning and the livingroom lights were on. I rounded the corner to find my child, her boyfriend and my new son sitting around looking extremely sad.

My first instinct was to be pissy because the boyfriend was still here. Then I figured by the solemn expression on each face that something indeed was troubling them.

The next thing I noticed was the lizard’s habitat was not in the girl’s bedroom, but in the livingroom with the depressed looking children. I was told the lizard was passing into the next life. Immediately, I was transported into late night depression too.

FLASHBACK: “Mom, we’re goin out to catch lightnin bugs,” my daughter said.
They came in and went to the bedroom, where the lizard habitat is housed, lightning bug contraption in tow. Out of the bedroom I hear them giggle as the lizard must have been performing tricks to get the treat.

Lizards eat bugs, that’s nature. So, they figured since it would jump across its home to get a cricket, it would jump in the air to get a flying critter. They finish feeding it 3 of the luminescent delicacies. And put in a movie. That’s when I went off to bed.

BACK TO THE NOW: So, whilst Diva slept, the lizard was becoming very ill. By the time I woke up, it was too late. They had looked it up on the internets. Fireflies are TOXIC and not to be ingested by any other living creature.

We will be burying Joey today. Out back. Next to the rat that didn’t make it through baby rat birth. I suppose in order to ease her sadness, I’ll wait a day or two and go get her another reptilian playmate. We’ll try a snake this time I think.

What Chaps Diva's Ass?

Ok. It’s Saturday morning. I just woke up. My eyes are glued together. My nose is crusty. My chest is full of crap that just doesn’t want to come up. In short, I have yet another sinus infection.

Did I go to the doctor to get his verification of my diagnosis? NO!

Why?

Because the cost of going to the doctor these days is just ridiculous. Besides the fact that I was only well for 10 days after the last time I paid my doctor office co-pay and $200 for a dufflebag full of medicatons that obviously didn’t do it for me.

The only perk I can think of today is that I’m high as a kite on the refill of codeine cough syrup Dr. Dude (hehe, I know you love that, Zacque) called in for me last time. Thank God for refills.
I feel for those in this great country that aren’t fortunate enough to have some kind of health coverage. I mean hell, I’ve got it and I still find myself in the sorry ass position of making a choice between getting well or paying the damn rent and feeding my kid.

It’s ridiculous when the most prosperous country in the world has somewhere around 23% (I know they are lying about the numbers) of its citizens walking around with no way to get well when they get the crud, or worse have serious health complications.

I don’t have it all that bad. My $200 sick day would have been near $325 had I not had my shitty insurance.

A friend of my family has a heart issue and needs a transplant. He’s a great man. Works hard every day. Yet, because he is self-employed he’s screwed. No insurance. And basically, until an Angel of light (anonymous) arranged a monetary donation of a huge sum, he was told “So sorry, go die”. Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that harsh, but he could get no help.

As soon as some cash was waved around, it was amazing how fast that he was placed on the list of people waiting for a potential heart donor.

Anyway. I just figured since it’s Saturday morning and I’m still sick (again), that I would pitch a tizzy fit about how we should be better taken care of.

Unfortunately, even having a fit over it isn’t making the crap in my chest break up and go away.

Monday Melee - Let's Give It A Whirl

[ Note: This is Diva’s first Monday Melee, published on 11-Jun-2007 ]

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.

I hate haters. I’m sarcastic and all, but I don’t really hate anyone. I just think some people are completely ignorant and should wear a cone-dork hat all the time.
But people who hate everybody and everything (generally for no reason at all) annoy me greatly. Two words: hater blockers. You can find them at your corner store, reasonably priced, of course.

2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.

Until proven otherwise, the voice on my voice mail the other night was really an extremely good impression of a female voice. Had I not known better, I would have thought it was really a chick leaving me that message.
UPDATE: Diva has found out that Diva is way off. I should be whipped with a wet noodle for spreading such rumors without concrete proof. I admit it. I was wrong. I’m sorry. Forgive a Diva, won’tcha?

3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.

I am honestly unhappy with my daddy right now. I love him so much, I really do. And this may sound hateful, but I can’t help it.
He is drinking himself to death. No matter how much I love him, talk to him, beg him, get mad at him, ignore him, taxi him, and try to care for him… he just won’t knock it off. And I’ll be honest. I’m pissed about it. I’d like to have him around for a while. He’s not that old, but he’s diggin his own grave on drink at a time. If I was doing an asshat of the day post, he’s a prime target.

4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

I give that salesman at Lance Cunningham Ford credit for sucking my man into buying that damn truck after I had a tissy fit over it. Good for him.

5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.

I may not have all the money in the world. I may not be able to give my kids all the crap that I’d like to give them. But I give them what’s really important. I love them.
So, I guess the answer is I’m a kick ass mama that would go through hell and high-water for her kiddies.

6.The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.

I wish that all of the many parts of my life would come together, for one fleeting moment even, and I could have that happy, content feeling inside. Pretty damn big wish I suppose.


Go visit FRACAS and do the Monday Melee for yourself!

Skank of the Week - Paris Hilton

Okay, when I started blogging, I swore to myself and everything that is held Holy, not to say one word about Paris Hilton. I always felt that she was just not worthy of my attention, as she is a complete and utter attention whore to begin with... why humor her.

But, the courtroom activities of the day have made me realize the err of my ways. She is worthy of being a SKANK OF THE DAY.

Seriously. Let's say Diva was to go out, do a line or ten, go racing off into the sunset in her pretty little chick-mobile doing 100+ miles an hour. Let's say the PO-PO blue lighted Diva, found her to be under the influence, arrested her, made her go to court, suspended her license to operate even the simplest motor vehicle.

Do you think Diva would have learned her lesson? The answer is yes. Diva does not desire to spend her days locked up in an icky cell with hardened women criminals that say and do scary things to Diva-like creatures.

But the fact that she was stupid enough to get caught is not why she is the SKANK OF THE DAY. No. On the contrary, she made this list because she was stupid enough to get caught a couple more times driving on said suspended license.

Hello?!?! I know you are filthy freakin rich, and most everybody does most everything for you, but, DUH! Are you STUPID enough to believe that you can get away with the same offense multiple times?? Hire a driver, dumb ass. Party your ass off all the time!

In all honesty, I don't think jail time was warranted. It's not like she was out there drunker than a skunk. No. She was simply tooling around L.A. like the big Paris dawg she is. You know... shopping, Starbucks.. those fruitless tasks that she must endure on a daily basis. Ooops!!!

The city of Los Angeles would have been much better off fining the shit out of her every time she blows it. She is worth ga-gillions. Why not take her for a little more each time she gets out and acts like an ass? Why not have someone watching her for fine-able offenses. The City of Los Angeles would have the money to get police support in Watts where they really need it.

But, they did sentence her. And I went all shades of red when I heard they had released her to house arrest. Why? Mental problems with being in a confined, damp, loud, open place? Not able to eat gourmet? Burritos not good enough for her? Was it not enough that she had her sentence reduced and was only going to have to be there for a minute and a half anyway? Honestly, I'm shocked she made it 10 hours before she flipped completely out.

So, this judge decided that she's an idiot and now our girl Paris is not only doing her sentence, but she's doing the whole 45 days. Ooops. Off ya go, lass. Screaming and crying isn't going to do anything for ya now. Off ya go, with those nice deputies over there. I swear... Drama, drama, drama.

Anyway, let us take a moment to run down the list of why Paris Hilton is a MAJOR LEAGUE SKANK:

1. She has that same stupid pose on the red carpet all the time. Head down-tits and ass pushed out. Well, accept that time when she crashed on the motorcycle on the red carpet... I must laugh now, excuse me *ROFLMAO*

Sorry, I'm better now.

2. In and out, in and out, in and out of jail. Now do they let anybody else in and out of jail? Why hell no. Mommy's money just wasn't good enough this time.

3. The whole being best friends with Britney fiasco. Come on now. Britney was semi-skanky, but Paris managed to drag Britney into BIGTIME SKANKDOM. Hello. Undergarments, look into them.

**Note. What do you wanna bet she wears her panties for the next 45 days.

4. Even Diva is smart enough not to let any questionable materials out in the open. Hello!?!?! Ever heard of a locked, fire-proof box? Keep your junk in the trunk, sister.

Ok, I feel like I am getting a little bit catty here. And I could go on for miles about why I think Paris Hilton deserves the honor of Skank of the Day, but why?

Am I making me feel any better about being me? No, I rock and I don't need affirmation anyway. Unlike Paris, I'm the bomb even though I'm not build like Barbie and worth my family's millions.

In closing a few words to Paris:

They'll give you blankets if you're cold. Alot of folks survive college on frozen burritos, you won't starve. It ain't the Beverly Hilton (pardon the pun), it's jail. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

My Little Love

The way he wakes up, always with a smile on his face.

The way he calls out my name, and reaches for me to come hold him tight.

The way he follows me, like I’m the leader, leading him somewhere important.

The way he holds my hand, together facing this big, scary world.

The way he tries to explain to me, the things that are important in his little universe.

The way he bats his eyes at me, because he knows it melts my heart.

The way he snuggles up against me, like I am the one who can keep him safe.

The way he leads me here and there, discovering together what lies in the back yard.

The way he sits on the front porch with me, drinking tea, and watching the trucks go by.

The way he looks at his plate and then at mine when we sit down to eat. How he decides that his plate is just not good enough, and he just has to share mine instead.

The way he laughs out loud, when I nuzzle him under his chin.

The way he looks up at me with his big eyes, knowing he’ll find reassurance that it will all be just fine.

The way he rubs his eyes and crawls up in my lap when he’s sleepy, makes me feel as safe as he feels with me.

The way he acts like a big man when he’s only a tiny boy, but he must act like his Papa no matter what.

The way he has filled my life with a special joy and happiness like I’ve never known, tears my heart down to the basics and helps me realize what true love really is.

You can tell I’m a Nana. My grandson Tyler is two years old today. That little boy has taught me more about life and love than any other lesson I’ve ever had.

Venus & Mars? More Like Uranus

My friend Jane has been having serious relationship issues lately. Almost to the point that her head is turning all the way around like that possessed chick in The Exorcist.

After much thought (and actual research) on why relationships fail, I’ve come to the conclusion that the sister just needs to settle down, grow up and learn to deal with real life problems as they come at her.

Jane spent several days in a highly agitated state. Being around her as much as I am, I started to be concerned that something might be wrong in her relationship with the fella she’s supposed to marry soon. So, being a good friend, I asked.

She started explaining that for the most part, her relationship with Pete was awesome. They have alot in common (love of music, riding around with no real destination, talking about silly stuff, family values… you get the picture). She then went on to tell me that even though she knows he loves her and he does so much to show it by spoiling her rotten and giving her everything she could want, that there is something really important missing. Intimacy.

At first it appeared that she was troubled by the decrease in or lack of sex in their relationship. But after listening to her and thinking about what she had been saying, it was clear to me that it was more than her being horny and him ignoring it. There was something more to it.

In a relationship, there has to be a balance in every aspect of the relationship otherwise the whole world may seem like its coming to an end. Everything just has to be n’sync.

The emotional needs of both partners must be met by showing compassion and allowing the other to see into the heart of the partner.

The social needs of both partners must be met by doing things together. Whether taking a road trip, going out with friends or sitting on the front porch having social hour.

The intellectual needs must be met by discussions that run deep. As long as the two can discuss THEIR personal views together it doesn’t matter what the discussion is about. Communication is key in keeping each other interested.

Now, all of the above needs were being met for Jane. But the one need that threw the balance in Jane’s world out of sync was closing in for a kill in the relationship. So, she was naturally falling apart at the seams trying to figure out what to do. She couldn’t figure out why Pete was pushing her away when it came to her physical (sexual) needs.

I asked her if it was just lack of sex. As it turns out she just needs that intimate closeness. The hand on her leg when they are in the car. Getting naked and snuggling close with his arms wrapped around her, without the expectation of sex.

My suggestion to Jane was… talk about it. Make sure you both know what the problem(s) is/are. Many times there is a reason for said problem. Sometimes it takes some tears. Sometimes we have to say what we feel, even if it hurts.

Fact is, it takes work to maintain a relationship. It takes attention to detail in every aspect of that relationship to keep it going strong. If you can’t talk about what might be bothering you and you can’t talk it out, there might just be a bigger problem.

As for my friend Jane, she went to Pete and made sure that the lines of communication were wide open. Hopefully, they can talk about whatever they have going on and get things on track.

Comcast is Satan

If not of satan, then a spawn of said demon.
They are almost as bad as Wal-Mart, yet another corporate money-grubber I hate with a purple passion.

I went to pay my monthly Comcast bill online by check. Have technology, why not use it. Save a stamp, save a tree.
Well, when I clicked submit, it gave me an error message and number, which I’m glad I wrote down. So, I called and went through an seemingly endless barrage of the same automated questions being asked over and over by an annoying voiced robot. Then, as has been every other time I’ve called Comcast, I was put into the standard holding pattern like an Airbus 300 waiting to land at Los Angeles International Airport.

I was given clearance to land, and began my decent into the always fun world of call center customer service.

I spoke with girl this time who said she didn’t see any pending payments or anything and that I should just make my payment over the phone.

So, I did. With my debit card, which goes immediately. Come to find out 30 minutes later, the internet payment had went through and here is my confirmation.

So, I call them (Comcast) back, I go through the automated answering phone maze again and back into the standard holding pattern like an F16 circling Baghdad, only to talk to a not so pleasant or helpful fellow named Josh. They can’t stop either payment, he says.
“Hello.” Say I, Just reverse the charges on the debit card, pal!!??!!”

To which Josh says repeatedly, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Once payments are through, they are through and there is nothing we can do about it. I spent more than 45 minutes of my valuable time, not to mention all the hold time, fighting with Josh about how all of this is not my fault.
I would have never paid over the phone had I not received an error message up on the clicking of the submit button.

So, I get on my cell phone and call the bank whilst on hold . And, as the useless bloodsuckers they are, can’t stop any payments, as both are technically electronic payments.

Color me screwed. So two payments in the amount of $153.00 are going to be sucked out of my bank account because Comcast’s website sucks on severely proportionate levels

Now I’m on hold with them again, as they always have higher than normal call volume.

To Wed or Not To Wed...That's the Question

That was the question.

I was blown completely in a direction that I had never even fathomed in fall of last year.
Like many kids my age, I have found myself all grown up, family raised, divorced and running completely wild. Kind of like turning 21 again, kinda.
I was pretty content with how life was going. My kids are grown up and I can come and go as I please.

Running around with the girls… you bet.
Acting extremely silly and pirate like… wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But, then it happened. My bestest friends introduced me to the man that would forever change my being. As fate would have it, things moved along rather rapido. And BAM - the question came…

Wanna get married? Of course, it was much sweeter than that. It was a very touching a precious moment. YEP! Let’s get married. GAME ON!
This happened last October.

The holidays went by smoothly and we were still getting to know each other pretty well.
I met his family. They seemed to like me. I passed the test.

Then it was set!! June 2nd. Invitations ordered. Cake ordered. Dress ordered. Church on hold. Preacher with a Bible. You name it, it was ordered. You get the picture.

But as days went by, I started to get scared. In typical Diva fashion, I flipped out, and decided that maybe we needed time to get our ducks in a row and everything ironed out both in our personal lives (kids and whatnot) and with our life together (roof over head, combining of households… ya know).

I put my entire wedding party in a holding pattern like a jumbo jet circling La Guardia during rush hour on Monday morning in Manhattan. I have never felt such pressure or such fear and I’ve had some pretty self-induced dramatic experiences in my life.

Everybody had some sort of input. A slight few of my closest friends were very understanding and supportive and just went happily into the holding pattern.
Others decided that it didn’t need to happen and actively gave opinions over and over.

You see, planning of the wedding ceremony was all set up and in place. But the cold feet I ended up being the proud owner of got the best of me. The wedding ceremony was the easy part. After it was all planned out and ready to go, I had time to stop and think. Which in this case, turned out to be a good thing.

I started to think about how different we are. How our views on alot of things are completely in the opposite. The way we treat and raise our kids is totally ass backward from one another.

One of the biggest fears I’ve got: becoming a wicked step-mother.
His son had always been nice to me, until the plans started to come together and it was apparent to him that this was really going to happen. Silently but surely, I knew he was sabotaging it. At least in my non-rational mind I’m sure he was.

But, I found out, when I started to keep my fella at arms length due to fear and wasn’t seeing half as much of him, just how important he is to me.

In the last week of my self-promoted hiding phase, I started to really ponder on all of the little things he does just to make me smile.
**The 100 mile-round-trips he makes in the middle of the week just to say hi and give me a kiss**
**Being serenaded in front of everyone by him and his bluegrass buddies as they sing “You are My Flower” because he wants me to know how much he loves me**
**Jumping in his big ol’ truck to ride around and do nothing but look and talk**

That man loves me. He’s not trying to tame me or make me into something I’m not. He takes my bitchy and ever-so-slightly sarcastic tone with a teaspoon of sugar and loves me anyway.

I finally got enough courage to talk to him.. To tell him I’m a freak and that I was scared of what was happening. You know, face-to-face verbal communication is way under-rated.
We both had answers to all the questions that were looming. We came to agreement on alot of subject matter.

So, I guess the answer to the above question is….

TO WED. Yes.

We have decided that a fall wedding is in order and that we are going to have a
most wonderful, beautiful ever after together.

Details to follow soon. I need to pull my wedding party in from the holding pattern and in for a landing before I go and shout from the roof-tops.

Skank of the Day: Amy Fisher

Not only do I feel good about giving kudos to those in our society that are, in my opinion anyway, hot as a Louisiana Swamp in mid-July, but I also notice the stupid stuff the some folks tend to do. These people will be referred to as SKANKS from here on.

In yet another vain attempt to toast the new summer season in, let us discuss a new and exciting skank who delights in her skankiness, acts completely brainless, and depends on her off the wall antics every day to get her somewhere in life or at least keep the full realm of attention right on her. So… onward and upward

Before Britney’s lack of panties… Before Paris and her sad XXX movie debut… Before the Anna Nicole circus…

Before any of the fore mentioned super skanks, we had a super skank that raised the bar for skanks today. Who might we be talking about? Amy Fisher, the Long Island Lolita, of course.

Sure, the skanks of today are, for the most part completely vulgar and lacking good taste and judgement. But, they don’t go around shooting their lover’s wife in the head.

Yes, I must now move Amy Fisher into the Skank of the Day slot. Why Amy Fisher?

First, you must be a skank of phenomenal proportions to have all three major networks do a docudrama on your messed up existence.

Well, it seems that she and Joey Butt-a-fuoco are planning to move in together and pick up where they left off before Amy was sent off to prison. Joey has went through another wife, Evanka, who he is fooling around on. Damn that Amy “the homewrecker” Fisher!

Apparently, Evanka has vowed to keep her man no matter what.

Can’t wait to see the drama that comes out of the sequel. Even if it’s all a big pre-empted publicity stunt to get people interested in their planned reality show.

Jeez… I can’t even remember which one was the skank… Joey and Amy…

YOU GO KIDS!

The Trooper & The Porn Star

Say, did you hear the one about the Tennessee State Trooper and the Porn Star??? Sounds like the start of a really bad joke, huh? Actually, it’s funnier than a room full of Michael Jackson impersonators whipping each other with wet spaghetti noodles, but it’s no joke.

James Randy Moss, of the Tennessee Highway Patrol, had an anonymous complaint filed against him by a cupie doll named Justis Richert in Nashville, TN.

We here in beautiful KnoxVegas should be proud to boast that Justis, a.k.a. Barbie Cummings *snicker*, is a Knoxvillian. Let’s pause and give Barbie some well-deserved kudos. She makes our community proud by being a big-time porn star who makes her living by flying back and forth to the City of Angels to shoot her fair share of scenes.

I would now like to paraphrase for you how the skinny goes down:

Occifer Perv-A-Lot (OP): Hey sexy, can I see your license & registration?

[Queue Saxaphone Music]

Local Porn Queen (LPQ): Why yes occifer. Here’s my license and registration.

OP: Well, these seems in order. (Hiking up pants, Barney style) Miss Richert, do you have any drugs on you or in your ride?

LPQ: Why hell yes I do. Want some? They are my happy pills, they make me happy and extremely horny. Oh, by the way, I’m a porn star. I can rock your world, baby.

OP: Realllllly now? You aren’t just saying that to get my manhood roaring and to get me into some serious trouble later?

LQP: Oh, no, occifer. I wouldn’t do that in a million and one years. Don’t you have a lappytop in your crusie-woosie. I can show you my work. By the way, my stage name is Barbie Cummings. *snicker*

OP: Well, first, Miss Cummings *snicker*, you’ll need to give me those pills so I can fix your problem. (OP scatters dim pills in da bushes) Now lets take a little stroll on back to my cruiser and we’ll see just how good you really are. How’s that sound?

LQP: Well, okay. I think that was really neat what you did.

(Getting into the cruiser and turning on lappy)

OP: Wow, girl. Look at you go. Say, what’ll it take for a nasty, middle aged, perv with a badge to get up next to a sweet thang like you?

LQP: Jeez, I don’t know. Maybe if you tape it with your cruiser camera so I can remember you.

OP: Fine by me.

Some various acts of a sexual nature were captured by Occifer DipShit as he rolled tape. You know Barbie might have fear of performing action without the lights and cameras.

To make a long story even longer, this guy gives her a copy of the tape…. Where she….you guessed it… POSTED IT ON HER WEBSITE FOR ONE AND ALL TO SEE….

I wonder if this would actually be one of the lamest things I’ve heard?