Untrustworthy artist fodder...
For those of you who watch Big Brother; and then there was one. Season Six has been decimated. I have to say though that I'm really not too disappointed James is gone. He was untrustworthy last year, as he was this year. I still just can't figure out why Will and Boogie are still in the game. The two biggest liars and manipulators have managed to lie and manipulate everyone into believing that they are NOT liars and manipulators. How thick ARE these people?! It aggravates me.
You know when you're watching a game show on TV and you think to yourself,
I oughta go on that show, I could do that. That was so easy, I can't believe she missed that question. I was offered five million dollars by a client tonight if I could name the artist of an 80's song playing on the radio. I couldn't do it. Hell, I can't even tell you what song it was. She was just throwing that out there, like people tend to do. I think. But, what if she'd been serious? I just lost five million dollars over an Al Green song. I'm kinda depressed!
It's been a lousy day. And for no reason in particular really. Just one of those days, I suppose.
I was doing a little online reading today about photography. You really can learn quite a bit from the net. I would absolutely love to take some hands-on photography classes at some point. Do they give financial aid for those types of classes? Yes... I'm that poor. I think it's fun to create images that will last forever. I don't feel like I'm that creative though, as far as creating something to take a picture of, or even seeing a shot where someone else wouldn't. That's something I think I need to be more aware of. In the meantime, you know the animules are great photography fodder. Here's one of Piper and The Devil Cat having another showdown. This one was just as dissapointing as the first. No hissing, no spitting, no eyeballs hanging out of sockets. Maybe they're just admiring one another.
Aerobatic chicken...
I'm not sure that I have anything to write about today. I guess I'll just type until I run out of things to say. Okay, that just about did it.
I suppose I can write about The Devil Cat. She's a constant source of writing material. Have I mentioned that the cat is an aerobatic dynamo, and no I don't mean acrobatic. This cat actually flies through the air, flipping and turning as she goes. Wherever she lands, if her footing is unsure, out the claws come to dig into whatever hapless victim she's lighted on. One or more of my body parts ends up being said victim about 75% of the time. And what is the deal with a cat wanting to stick its ass in your face? I've never understood that shit. I'd rather not have the damn furball near my face period, but if you have to perch there at least give me the good-smelling end. You'd think she'd learn after being tossed across the room a few thousand times. But no, she lands perfectly on her feet and prisses back to try again.
I burned my arm cooking chicken fried chicken last night. I'm not exactly sure how I managed it, but I now have an ugly, red welt on the inside of my arm. And it hurts. It's the damn cat's fault too. Somehow.
I'm hungry. I could sure go for some chicken fried chicken right about now, I tell ya. I guess that's what's on the menu tonight, again. I think that's about all I have. And that's thanks to OleAnner, the CFC queen! I bow to the queen,
"All hail the queen."Rylie's first day of first grade is today. She's so independent! She wanted to ride the bus to school today. Not me. I wanted my Mommy to go to freakin' class with me! I sure do miss the days when life was uncomplicated and I could depend on someone else for everything. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone tuck you in at night, drive you around everywhere, cook your meals, cuddle you when you're scared and tell you that everything's gonna be alright when you've had a bad day? Sigh... I WANT MY MOMMY!!!!!
100+ black stink...
Have you ever just had one of those weeks that make you just wanna throw in the towel? Wave the white flag? Surrender to the nothingness that threatens to reach out and pull you into a black pit of despair? Yeah, in case you hadn't noticed yet, it's gonna be one of THOSE blogs today.
I've been told that I've been pissy for more than a week. Maybe if I write it out of my system, it'll go away. It all started last week with an argument I had with someone who shall remain nameless for the purpose of this entry. When I get upset/angry I tend to take it out on the poor souls who have the misfortune to be around me at the time. I recognize this after the fact, but I can't seem to control myself in the heat of the moment. I do think people understand though, I happen to have some extraordinary colleagues and friends. Anyway, back on track, the argument just began the whole week badly.
I was then recruited at the office to do some things other than my normal daily tasks, which is fine normally, but it just threw me that much more out of whack and put me behind.
When I arrive home Friday, it is to find that I have no water. Because of some mix-up, of which I'm still not sure, our friendly little neighborhood "security guard" turned off the water on a Friday afternoon. You know, I understand that he's just doing his job. But come on!! A Friday afternoon, no chance for me to get it taken care of before Monday. Not only that, but when I tried to call him and find out what was going on, I get no answer until almost 7 p.m. on Saturday. I began calling Friday evening; and I know he was home because I saw his little truck in the yard. The man even drove by my house 10 minutes after I'd called him on Saturday. So, I get to spend a weekend with no water?? Who does that shit? I have dogs in 100+ degree heat, clothes to wash, baths to take, food to cook, dishes to wash.
So Friday night, I'm in a tizzy and go check my mail to see if there's anything from the company to explain this whole mess. Of course there isn't. What there was, however, was a letter or two from my car's leinholder stating that they didn't have proof of insurance coverage. One letter was dated July 10, 2006, the postmark was July 28, 2006 and stated that it was my second notice. I've never received a first notice. The second letter was enclosed with an insurance policy the creditor had issued on my car, dated August 4, 2006, along with payment coupons that had raised my payment up about, oh $50 or so. Sure, I'll just pull that out of my ass and send it right to ya. Now, if I'd have taken the time to read the letter more thoroughly that night I might have noticed that it said that if the vehicle WAS covered the amount they'd charged to my account would be credited. But I didn't. So, over the weekend I distressed over the argument I had, the water situation, the car note, and everytime the air conditioner kicked on I had an anxiety attack wondering how I'm going to pay my electric bill. Gee, I wonder why I had a headache yesterday.
Don't worry though it's all taken care of now and I did have access to some water so I don't stink and my clothes did get washed. The dishes are another story.
What is he thinking...
On the news the other night a story was reported about a
slain preacher and his wife, who allegedly admitted to the murder of her husband during a bond hearing. The small Tennessee community was shocked to discover the pastor was shot in the back after he didn't appear for church services. It is alleged that the wife, after months of supposed mental abuse and financial chaos, used a shotgun at close range to murder her husband, afterward packing her kids up to flea for 'the beach and a mini vacation.' Now, the kicker is the judge from McNairy County, Tenneessee is releasing this woman on bail saying there was no prior history and no flight risk. It's my opinion after she's reportedly admitted to the murder, that even if that were true, she should be held without bail. She tells investigators that the murder was not planned, but I mean come on, she shot the man in the back at close range while he was ASLEEP. It's not rocket science to figure this one out. She got sick and tired and decided it was time for some payback. Most people get a divorce. I'd like to know your opinion.
Two weenies and the devil...
Last night I had two weenies in my lap, weenie dogs that is; and The Devil Cat is getting braver. While I was trapped under the two weenies, little miss Jazzy 'aka: The Devil Cat' thought it would be highly entertaining to finally get close enough to sniff out the competition. Captain and Piper didn't find it the least bit amusing and promptly began growling; the closer she got the louder the growl. Finally at the edge of the recliner, she put her front two paws onto the cushion. The growling had stopped, there was dead silence. The weenies were on point, their eyes never leaving the fuzzy menace that had interrupted their lives. Jazzy reaches out a paw to playfully bat Captain's rotund belly. Captain yaps, taking a snap at the "innocent" little creature. Unperturbed, the cat tries again, maybe this time with claws extended? I don't really know. I do know that Captain yelps, whether in surprise or pain, and proceeds to climb and claw his way up my arm towards my shoulders. Once his significant bulk is firmly wedged between my back the the chair, he issued a weary sigh and laid his head down on my shoulder. Damage done, the cat saunters over to the computer chair and curls up looking like a perfect angel. I'm inclined to believe the claws
were extended with that last swat because, well, you'd just have to know Captain. He's my little 'fat baby.' He can hardly make the jump up into the recliner, sometimes trying two or three times, sometimes having to take a running start. So, you can see that something would have to be very wrong for him to exert the energy it took for him to get all the way up to my shoulders. It must've upset him pretty badly because he didn't want to come back inside after his last potty break of the night, and this is Captain... Mr. Move-Out-Of-My-Way-So-I-Can-Go-To-Sleep-In-My-Blanket. Last night he just sat there in the yard, his tail was still, he had no smile on his face. He looked at me as if to say, "Hell no, I won't go! Not until that bitch cat is GONE!" In the end he relented, Captain Bo does like his comfy pillow and blanket after all, but he most definitely wasn't happy about it. The Devil Cat wins the first battle, but from the gleam in Captain's eyes this morning I know the war is far from over.
When I opened my first email of the morning, it was to three pictures of my niece. The images are of Torie, being portrayed by six-year-old Rylie.
First there's the Torie shot...
Then there's the second shot where she explains that she 'needs a bra before school starts!'...
And finally a side shot, hitting the point home that she MUST have it before school starts...
It was a wonderful way to start the day with a laugh. This little girl constantly keeps me entertained and I love her so much for it. She's a joy to be around. Most of the time.
Malicious crickets...
The Mistress of Torture is gone!!! And her little dog too! We've come through the inspection relatively unscathed and won't have to endure it again for two more years. Woo Hoo!!! Maybe they'll finally quit stealing my pens!!
A bit of malicious gossip is circling the internet today that Jennifer Anniston and Vince Vaughan have broken up. It can't be true. It can't be true because I want them together.
IIIII aaaaammmm theeee puuuuuppppeeeetttt maaasssttteeerrrr oooofffff lllloooovvvveee. And I just won't allow it. Althoughhhhh.... If they've broken up, that means he's free for me. Maybe those rumors will turn out to be true after all.
Speaking of puppets, I'm going to turn this cat into a puppet if she scratches me one more damn time. And what do I do? I buy her a damn toy to reward her. I think I'm going to have a scar on my leg where she used it as her own personal tree limb. Anyone know a good plastic surgeon that does charity work?
The sun has gone down, the crickets are chirping and in the immortal words of Erin Brochovich, "I've performed 432 sexual favors. I'm really quite tired."
Manipulative bambina...
If you watch Big Brother... all I can say is Janelle done went crazy. It's Will's fault, the manipulative bastard. I can't believe they are letting him do this again. If he canoodles them all, then he deserves to win. Go Will. Blah.
Mel Gibson, I hate to give this anymore print than it's already gotten. But I just have to say, even the ladies of The View are bashing him. He might just be screwed. Then again, they say even bad press is good press.
Despite reports of Baby on Board, Jennifer Lopez showed off a very flat stomach (bitch) at her Miami hacienda on Monday. Poor J-Lo. She told me the other day that she really wanted a little bambina. Wait.... no, that wasn't J-Lo, that was J-Wo. Anyhoo....
One more Hollywood comment and then I'm done, I promise. I read that Lindsey Lohan has been compared to Elizabeth Taylor because she's a penchant for creating gossip and has the looks to back it up. Uh... Are we looking at the same girl? She's pretty (as long as she's caught with a face full of make-up), but is no Elizabeth Taylor.
So, it's August 1. Only five more shopping months until Christmas. Yeah, I'm counting down. I'd better start buying shit now. But, to use Tina's descriptive characterization of herself, I'm an indecisive procrastinator. I'll be shopping on Christmas Eve with the rest of you. Don't even try to deny it. So when we're stuck at the back of an endlessly long line, remember to take the chance to observe people and relax a little. You might even come away with 'a story fit for a blog.'
