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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Said yesterday while the dog had inflicted yet another unintentional wound

Hubs (while grabbing his man boobie): "Ouch, God damn it, Gage, that hurt."
Me (while trying not to snicker): "Did he get your nipple with his death claws AGAIN?"
Hubs (still clutching boob): "Ouch, yes."
Me: "Damn, he used to be the nut finder, now he is the nip finder."
Hubs (all of the sudden pain free and looking annoyed: "Is that a slam at my heritage?"
Me: Sigh "No, dear, had I wanted to do that, I'd have dubbed him the Gook finder. Pay attention."


Elizabeth at 11:53 AM


Sunday, February 25, 2007

Quick tip for happy feet

One should probably not wear brand new, never worn, not at all broken in 3 inch heels for two separate functions that involve a lot of sitting, standing, kneeling, and walking.

Me and the giant, puffy masses that used to be my relatively cute feet shall be retiring now to the sofa/coffee table combo. Latah.


Elizabeth at 8:00 PM


Saturday, February 24, 2007

I went and humped Kohls and rubbed my boobies on it

I left with 3 bags and was poorer by $340. Mmmhmmm. I have no control. I do, however, have the following:

-new dress, pic to come later.
-new black heels.
-new walking shoes.
-ummmmm, let's just call this one a foundation garment. Lumps and bumps under new dress are no bueno.
-new undies.
-3 new table runners for Spring.
-a spring/bunny little display dealio. So very cute.
-new V-Day placemats on clearance for $1.19 a piece. HELLO.
-new spring placemats.
-Spring pillow for sofa.
-Summery shirt.
-Shorts - needed desperately.
-Work out capri pants.
-"Welcome Spring" guest hand towels for bathroom.
-the most precious Easter egg wreath thingy.
-new cheap sunglasses. I don't buy expensive since I will break or lose them.

I wanna be Kohl's baby mama.

This is now day #4 of no soft drinks and no pizza. I want a fucking medal for this shit. I would sell Gage off to work on a farm plowing fields if it meant I could taste the nectar of the gods known as Coke Zero.


Elizabeth at 12:32 PM


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Why I hate living here, Reason #3

Coming hard and fast, ain't they? Mmmmhmmmm. Oh, and TKW - if you want to do a race to see who reaches 100 first, bring it on, sistah.

3. Tupac thumped into the driveway again so I figured fine. Hubs told me call the po po on his ass and I did. I told them the deal, described the vehicle and gave the address where it was. Y'all know I got issues with the po po, but they have reached critical levels since moving here to the land where grammar went to die. Anyway, Fatty McCop drove up about 15 minutes after I got off the phone to report his little ass. Fatty waddled up to the door, spoke to him about 15 seconds and left. I doubt he even took down his license.

Now I know. I certainly did not expect a SWAT team to blaze up and carry him out in shackles but that would have been fun, no? I did expect Fatty to put his donut down long enough to write down the damn license plate number. I called the hubs and said that I called the po po, po po came and po po left and that would be the last time I did that. He asked but why? Well, I'll tell you why, hubs. I have to live here. You live here on what? Maybe a part time basis? You are also what? Eight feet tall and built like a defensive tackle on the Saints. Uh huh. So, sorry if I don't wanna piss off every single neighbor that I have, mmmmkay? I already know the dude is a dealer/runner, so while I really would rather not deal with Whitey Tupac, I really don't wanna deal with the trash down the street who would love nothing more than to have a Poop-a-Loop kebob all because I called the 5-0 on their boy.

So you won, Whitey Tupac. I give up. Is it sad that I spend my spare time looking up real estate listings in other cities dreaming of a land where the police are not all 350 pound pieces of shit who could not run a mile if their asses were on fire?

Yeah, I thought so too.


Elizabeth at 2:25 PM


And just like that, I exploded

I am really not sure how much longer I will be able to deal with my mother. She casually mentions yesterday at about, oh, 7 PM or so that she needs blood work before her doctor's appt that is this coming Monday. Mmmmhmmmm. Well, I will just gloss over the fact that she neglected to mention this Monday WHEN I WAS OFF. Fine. Oh, she also needs an MRI. Fab. So cue to this morning when I got up at 5:30 AM. Let me repeat.

5:30 AM. I don't do mornings, y'all. My schedule is 10 AM - 6 PM for a reason. Ya feel me? I have loathed mornings since I was just a wee girl with pigtails and knee socks, ok? I can get up if need be but I am not happy about it and being that I don't do coffee in the morning, or ever for that matter, I am just not a happy girl.

The thing is that the blood drawing place does not take appointments. You kinda have to go and deal with whatever line is in front of you. So we make the decision (read: I made the decision) to be there at 7 when they open because if you want any longer than that, it is really a crap shoot as to how long you may endure of a wait. Not to mention, we still had to also get the MRI, that up until about 45 minutes ago, I thought was also first come, first served.

Oh, silly silly girl, of course not. But I digress.

We get to the blood place and are a little early so once we see some guy go up and go in, she goes to the door. Pulls it, locked. Well, mom is not one to take the motherfucking bull by the horns and think quietly to herself, "Well, that man went in so surely they are open as it is also after 7 AM." No, she comes back to my car with this very disgusted look because of course, clearly none of this is her fault. The fact that we had to get up at the ass crack, the fact that she neglected to inform me of the blood drawing/MRI that HAD TO BE DONE BEFORE THE NEXT APPT THAT IS MONDAY, the fact that there was a fucking doorbell next to the door. No, SFG, that is not her fault. I very calmly say "There is a doorbell. Go ring it." Sigh, she exhales. At this point, my blood pressure did its first spike. Just. Fucking. GO.

A nurse comes to the door and lets her in and unlocks the door so that there is no more of this yanking on a locked door and disgusted expressions on people like my mother. She comes out and lets me know that there are 2 people in front of her and then her. Fabulous. I am reading my book (Running with Scissors - which I just finished - fabulous book - go buy right now). She strolls out about 7:20 and is all done. Oh, but wait. Not quite. You see, she was getting blood drawn for 2 separate doctors. The neurologist whose appt she has this coming Monday and then her PCP whose appt is the following Monday. (Yes, you read that right. My next two days off will be spent toting my mother around to the doctor.) Before her ass even hits the seat, she sighs with the sound of disgust again. I, who just have no patience for theatrics any time of day, but particularly before 8 AM, flatly said "What?" Well, Dr. McFucktard did not check what he wanted tested so only Dr. McRude got blood drawn for him. OK, so there is one appt that we just HAD to get up for that was a complete waste of my GOD DAMNED TIME. Second BP spike occurred right about then.

So we drive around the corner for the next appt which is for the MRI. Please recall that I mentioned a bit ago that the MRI place was like the blood draw place in that you don't make an appt. You just go and basically wait until you are called. I figured if we were there for 8 o'clock, surely she can be in and out in enough time for me to come home and be ready to work by 10 o'clock. She goes in and is in there long enough that I figure she must be getting herself scanned and pumped with radiation that will make her glow. I realize I have to pee. And when I have to pee, I will not be denied. My bladder has two settings - empty and full, must go right fucking now. I get out of the car and figure they surely have a potty in the MRI place, right? As I am rounding the corner, I almost collide with my mother with, yes, you guessed it, another look of disgust. Again, I am just not in the mood for her litany of reasons as to why this is not her fault and how life is just so hard for her, so I spit out "What?" again. She replies "I did not get the MRI - I just made the appt." For Monday. The same Monday that I am having to already take her to one appt. And one appt is for 11 AM and the other is 2:45. So thanks, Mom. You not only managed to completely fuck up the afternoon of my day off, we are now into the morning hours of a truly fucked up day. THANK YOU. I want to make clear right here and now before you all think I am the biggest bitch ever (which I am, but whatever). I have asked her multiple times to make the appts in the morning. I want them done and overwith. We make them with enough advanced notice that this should not be an issue. And yet, here we are 11 AM and 2:45 PM. Mmmmhmmm.

The sad thing about all of this is that I knew all of this was coming. I knew it. The woman can not just do something, be done and that's a wrap. No. It has to be multiple steps. It has to be difficult. For everyone involved. Not just her. Hell no. She likes to share the wealth of the annoyances. I tell her that I needed to stop at W*lgreen's and pick up a few things. We manage to do that without her burning the damn store down. We leave and she asks me if we can stop at the vet's office to get cat food for her cat who can't have regular food because he gets some sort of weird stone deal that blocks his piss shoot. (Again, the cat has to have issues, right?) She goes in and I call the hubs to vent briefly because I have a pressure release valve and it's called yelling and venting. If I don't decompress a little bit before she comes out of the vet's office, I can promise you I'd have driven straight thru their plate glass window with a maniacal grin on my face.

She comes out with a huge bag of food and hoists it in the back of my car. We manage again to drive home in one piece and I have not screamed, yelled, rolled my eyes, beaten her to death with her cane (that she does not need). We get home and one final nail in my coffin of sanity is drilled in with her bullshit. I hear her voice behind me as I am unlocking the door. "Awwww, I can't believe it." Again, to diffuse her hysterics, I do the "What?" again. The food is canine.

Please keep in mind that I am dealing with all of this before 9 AM, without the aid of Diet Coke and pizza being that I am now 9 hours into Lent. I promise you I will be on drugs by Easter. Or on trial for murder. Either or.

Labels: ,

Elizabeth at 9:53 AM


Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Why I hate living here, Reasons #1 and #2

I shall just keep a running list of the plethora of reasons why I hate living in this shithole place because the things that I hate become more and more apparent every single fucking day that I exist in this den of ignorance and land of dipshits.

1. Mardi Gras. Why is it fucking necessary to take every single local channel and put the parades on from 10-3. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? If I am not at the parade, why should I be subjected to seeing all of that bullshit up close and personal in my living room. Put that shit on one channel and be done.

2. Tupac across the street continues to insist on thumping down the street despite my hubs asking him nicely to shut it because I work from home and crazily enough, I can't hear to type if someone has 150,000 watts thumping 50 feet from my head.

I'm sure more shall come at a later date. This list will hit 100 by the end of the year. Mark my words, bitches.


Elizabeth at 11:13 AM


Monday, February 19, 2007

The one in which I sigh a lot.....


OK, so I call the dad tonight. Good thing right? Of course it is. My step mom had mentioned a while back that she would be in town in March for a conference. I come to find out that she is still coming which is great, but that she is coming during the time I would have been in Houston getting my drink on at the Blog Blowout. SIGH. For whatever reason, I am just not meant to make one of these things. I have no clue why. I think things happen for a reason but damn..... I am trying to concentrate on the positive. I already asked for the time off and it was granted so I can spend some extra time with my step mom and show her some cool stuff she has yet to see around the city. :)

However, I did get some FABULOUS news. Guess who is coming to the Big Easy ever so briefly to get on a big ass cruise ship? That would be Mrs. Pissy Britches!!!!! Mr. and Mrs. Pissy will be going on a cruise and it leaves from here. :) I get to meet the Queen of all HABs. Granted, it will be pretty quickly since they are only here to get on and off the boat, but how FUN. I will for sure have the cam at the ready to catch her in all her Pissy glory. I am so psyched.

So yesterday I drove up to Vicksburg to see my aunt and uncle and cousin, who is about the cutest little boy ever. I have pictures of him that I shall post tomorrow. That kid cracked my shit right up. They are going to come here next month for a crawfish boil next time. Should be big fun except I don't eat crawfish. They are red roaches. However, I am all for potatoes and corn that goes in the boil. Yum.

For everyone in the US, today is President's Day. For us, it's Lundi Gras which means tomorrow is Mardi Gras. Wednesday starts the beginning of Lent. I decided to give up soda and pizza. I know. I KNOW. Sigh. By Thursday, I will either be a puddle on the floor or will be on the news for killing someone for drinking a diet Coke in front of me, heartless bitch. I figured that since I am taking the time (only 7 more weeks of class....boooooyah) to go through all of this for church, I should try to give up something that would be tough on me. I am not so sure this will be harder on me or my hubs. I should be an absolute ray of fucking sunshine by Easter.

Speaking of church, I picked out my godmother/sponsor. I think I already mentioned that I chose Aunt Regina. She will be coming with us to mass on Sunday to participate in the Rite of Sending and then I have to also go to a mass later in the afternoon at St. Louis Cathedral (the church you always see in the Quarter on postcards)that will be presided over by the Archbishop for the New Orleans Archdiocese. No clue why I have to do the deal at St. Louis, but hey whatever. I'll figure it out as I go. I am glad this process is almost over. I am ready to actually partake in all parts of mass and not just go through the motions on some stuff. It's been a long journey.

I have been thinking of starting a new blog that is just for me. This is a wonderful place for me because I appreciate the feedback so much but I have kept journals often throughout my life and would like to do so again. I type much faster than I write so this seems like the easiest thing to do. However, it will be password protected for even viewing for sure. I want to feel free to vent about whatever my heart's desire without wondering what on earth g**gle is going to link to it. I don't worry here too much about my privacy obviously but I do censor myself to a certain extent as I am sure we all do. I would just like a place to put all that and empty my brain out. We'll see. I just started thinking about it. Will probably take me a while to actually get around to setting it up. Sigh.

Well, I am off to bed. Here is a question for you internets - do you give up something for Lent? Will you this year? If so, what shall it be and what are the chances of you keeping it?

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Elizabeth at 11:40 PM


Stolen from Mainline Mom

I'll do a real post later. Until then, you get this.

Aprons- Y/N? God, no. I wear as little as possible without frightening the pets and neighbors.

Baking- Favorite thing to bake? Chocolate chip cookies for taste value. I am not the best cook but I can bake like a mofo. Oh, and banana bread because it reminds me of my dad.

Clothesline- Y/N? God, no. What is this? Little House on the damn Prairie? I have a dryer and I use the crap out of it. However, as evidenced by the cat ass on the sweater deal, I do sometimes take stuff out and lay it out. To have cat ass on it.

Donuts- Ever made them? No, but I have made beignets.

Everyday- One homemaking thing you do everyday? I am trying to think. There are various days that certain chores just do not get done. Load dishwasher I guess.

Freezer- Do you have a separate deep freezer? Yes, I do. Love love love that big bitch.

Garbage Disposal- Y/N? Who doesn't?

Handbook- Y/N? Yeah right. Is this the 50's?

Ironing- Love it or hate it? Hate it. Absolutely loathe it.

Junk Drawer- Where is it? One to the right of the kitchen sink.

Kitchen- Design and decorating? While I like the layout of my kitchen, the decor is not my taste and will be changed at some point. But it is not so gross that I can't deal with it for a little bit.

Love- What is your favorite part of homemaking? Being done and it all smelling so fab.

Mop- Y/N? This is a question? Yes, I just do the Swiffer wet jet dealio but once every month or so, I do the whole Pine Sol action to really get in there. Once a week with the Swiffer WJ though.

Nylons- Wash them by hand or in the washer? Washer.

Oven- Do you use the window or open it to check? Open.

Pizza- What do you put on yours? Pepperoni

Quiet- What do you do during the day when you get a quiet moment? Check email, watch tv or something. Read before bed.

Recipe card box- Y/N? No, but I would like to start one.

Style of house- God, I don't know. I don't have a defineable style. It's just me - what I like and how I like to have things.

Tablecloths and napkins- Y/N? I am more of a table runner rather than table cloth type of girl. Only use cloth napkins on special occasions or with company. Otherwise it is paper napkins all the way.

Under the kitchen sink- Cleaning supplies.

Vacuum- How many times a week? Probably 3.

Wash- How many loads do you do a week? I'd say between clothes, sheets and towels, about 8.

X’s- Do you keep a list of things to do and cross them off? Yes, right on my google page. Always there to remind me that I will never complete it and I am a giant slacker.

Yard- Who does what? Hubs. I no mow grass. Oh, but I do the planting beds because hubs could not possibly give less of a shit.

ZZZ’s- What is your last homemaking task for the day? Start the dishwasher if full.


Elizabeth at 7:50 PM


Thursday, February 15, 2007

Freedom - I won't let you down.....


  • Steelers' Cowher to join CBS as analyst

  • Thank GAWD. I was gonna miss the big chin.

    Every time I try to put the SPF icon dealio on here, it fucks shit up, so just act like you see it, mmmkay?

    So Kristine's theme this week is "freedom." That can be taken so many different ways. I actually sat and thought about this and tried to capture the many things that, to me, mean freedom.

    This lovely machine not only tells time but allows me to watch what I want, when I want. I seriously do not know HOW the hell I existed before DVR entered my life. I heart him. I wanna be his baby mama.

    These keys allow me to hit the road when I need some peace. My house is not nearly as full of some of y'all's, but living with one's mother under the same roof is enough to drive even the most sane (which does not describe me even on my best day) person to distraction. So I grab these, hop in my car and GO. There, I am my own DJ, listen to my tunes from high school that I refuse to let go of and sing loud and off key. What is better?

    OK, so I know this looks like a torture device, but it's not. This thing allows me to take care of myself even when it is cold as a muthah out there. And I can do it all while watching Tony Soprano pop a cap in someone. Good times.

    Ahhhhhh, and the best thing. This lovely machine gives me the freedom to shop from home, keep in touch with fam, do my banking, pay bills, keep up to date on national and international news without listening to annoying local newscaster drivel. I also discovered the joys and blogging and now have a place to vent, say my peace, meet some cool bitches and show off my disgustingly cute pets.

    So that's it. Freedom in a nutshell for me.

    In other news, Grey's Anatomy. Holy HELL. All I'm sayin.

    So tomorrow is February 16, 2007. One year ago, I lost this man:

    Man, can you deal with how friggin cute he is? I miss this tiny Flip every day. I use a laminated card with his obituary on it as my bookmark and I say hi to him almost every day. I encountered a lot of.....let's call it....adversity when me and the hubs got together. FIL was the first person to make me feel like family. He gave me a chance. He allowed me a shot and got to know me. He was stubborn. Set in his ways. ALWAYS thought he was right. But he sure did love his son. And he sure did trek several hundred miles to Destin all because I had my heart set on getting married at the beach. He also was smart enough to realize that if things unfolded in the way he figured they would that my hubs would never get what he had coming to him. So he made it possible for hubs to get what he rightfully deserved and made it possible for us to get this house. His sister (Aunt Regina - AKA one of the aforementioned "hens") is the one who made me consider giving RCIA a try and she will be my godmother in a few short weeks. His brothers and sisters have been nothing short of fantastic to me. Grateful does not begin to describe how that makes me feel. It makes my heart ache that he will never know our children, but I will make damn sure they know him. When my kid's hair stands up on end and he sings karaoke off key and makes up words that make no sense to songs and orders odd shit in restaurants like rice with mayo on top (not kidding) and shuffles around the house with his shoes collapsed in the back, I will immediately grab my kid and say "You know you got that from your Paw Paw Vincent, right?" I miss you, old man. More than you would have ever imagined. So so so blessed to have been a part of your life and a part of your family.

    Labels: , ,

    Elizabeth at 10:02 PM


    Tuesday, February 13, 2007

    Good news and yet another request

    So we got our taxes done today. And....drum roll please.
    Our refund will cover the entire surgery. I'm not fucking kidding.
    OK, so the financial problem is out of the way. Now we need the following:

    -Time to do the hibbity bibbity.
    -Energy to do the hibbity bibbity.
    -Energized spermies in a rapidly aging 40-year-old man. (Sorry, hun, but you're, like, old.)
    -My stupid body to ovulate on the regular.
    -If I do get sperminated that all of my genes don't get squashed into oblivion by his genes which is what seems to happen as both of his current children look like he pooped them out with nary the help of Camel Toe Annie. (This is a good thing for her, not me.)
    -That somehow between now and me squeezing out my spawn, that child birth somehow becomes a very slimming and painless experience.

    Shut it.


    Elizabeth at 10:43 PM


    Sunday, February 11, 2007

    Waste of Space Monday - Youth of America

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  • Students use IM lingo in essays

  • Proof positive that our nation is going to hell in a handbasket. This is pathetic.


    Elizabeth at 11:14 PM


    Brain dump - part deux.

    I have decided that I need to start carrying around like a notebook with me. Almost a diary of sorts because as I go about my day, I think of a shitten ton of things I want to write about, vent about, bitch about and share with you, the internets, but when I go to sit and put fingers to keys and compose a post, I draw a blank and end up just blathering on about my day (which, let's face it, is normally pretty damn boring) or showing pictures of my furry children. While I can look at pictures of my pets all damn day and be nothing short of amused, I imagine you all would prefer something a tad more mind provoking than the Pooper dragging his ass on the carpet (he has GOT to stop doing that) or Reba putting her cat ass on my sweater. Am I right? Can I get an amen please?

    I finally got an email today from the girl I call my best friend. Truth be told, if we go by most people's definitions of best friends, mine would be either the hubs or my cousin, Jen. However, Wendy and I have been friends since 10th grade and while I doubt she considers me her best friend, I plan to keep the friend hierarchy as is for now. Anyway, I was a tad put out because she has always been rather close to my dad and despite several emails and a couple phone calls, I had not heard a thing from her. Not even a quick "How is the Dad?" dash off email. Well, today I realized why. You see, this is gonna come as a shock to you all but I can be a little self involved. I'll wait while you gasp and clutch your chests in utter disbelief.



    So I completely forgot that her sister was pregnant and due to give birth in a month or so. Last I had heard there was a chance the baby had some of the indicators of Down's Syndrome. It was not conclusive evidence, so they were hoping for the best. Turns out that Julie gave birth a month early and it looks as though Down's is not a problem but of course with the early birth, there presents a whole host of other problems. Premies tend to have problems with lung development for months, if not years. She is a wee little thing weighing less than 5 pounds and Wendy has called her Thumbelina. We both do that - the whole nicknaming of everything. So little Ashley/Thumbelina is okay but has a long road ahead. Poor little chick.

    Work has been okay but I have had some computer issues and it has slowed me down considerably. While waiting for stuff to download or send, I end up surfing the net and then I get distracted by some story about how inane Bush is or I start shopping for a new purse and then 15-20 minutes has gone by, the report has BEEN sent for a while now and I am still sitting there. Consequently, my production this week sucked donkey dicks. Big ones. No bueno, girls. I got bills to pay. Purses to buy. Kohls trips to make. Sperm channels to reconnect. Think productive thoughts for me, would ya? Without cash, I don't get sperminated and a license to eat lots and be bitchy - unlike now when I am the epitome of slim and mannered. Shut it.

    So I am driving down the street last night to go assist my girl, Karen, in chaperoning a middle school dance - more on that in a second and the phone rings. I assume it is the hubs because I generally force him to keep me entertained on the road, but it is a number I don't recognize. I am way too curious (read: nosy) a person to allow a call to go to voice mail so I answer. It's Mrs. DallasK to tell me two things - (a) I don't have an accent and (b) She was a wee bit lit up as she and Football Widow were on their way to go see a flick. That girl is too funny.

    So the dance. Let me tell you something about me. I live across the river from New Orleans and Metairie, which is the largest suburb of New Orleans. I detest Metairie. It is traffic and giant SUVs and non blinker using soccer moms that can barely function doing one thing at a time yet try to do 14 things while driving and talking on their phones. Metairie makes my toofers ache, y'all. What do I hate more than Metairie?

    Mardi Gras. Can you even imagine how I feel about Mardi Gras IN Metairie? Oh yeah. Big fun for SFG. It never even registered that it was the first night of parades when I agreed to drive my ass across the river (hate that as well) and chaperone a couple hundred middle school children while they dance to songs that they think are new (i.e. Take my Breath Away and I Love Rock n Roll) and generally take the first steps to becoming future pole dancers. The most startling thing about most of these young girls was how able they were to walk in what can only be described as stripper shoes. (Hint: If any single part of your shoe is see through, and this includes the heel, they are stripper shoes.) These tiny little chicks, who I was pleased to note dressed fairly modestly compared to what I am used to seeing at the mall, all strode across that gym in 3 and 4 inch heels like it was nobody's business. I would have busted my ass at 13. Shit, I'd barely make it 3 steps now, bitches. Not these girls. These girls got skeeeels, ya heard? It is only a matter of time before me and Karen see them on a drunken night in the Quarter coming down a pole head first only using their legs using the dancing name of "Tasty." Not that I know anything about that, of course.


    So anyway, after the dance which lasted a total of two hours and from which I am still partially deaf, everyone and according to Karen's daughter, Karlene, EVERYONE was going to Cafe du Monde up the road to have beignets and coffee or hot chocolate. So off we went. We are nothing if not good sports. So we took Karlene and let her go in and hang with her friends. In a show of not cramping her style combined with the vain attempt of not being around any more 13 year olds, we went through the drive through, got our drinks and waited for Karlene to get tired which we knew would not take long because unlike the future Tasty's of the world, Karlene is a very tame girl and has a low threshold for excitement. We figured she had 20-30 minutes before she lapsed into a coma. Thank uppercase God she is a good kid. I was home a little before 11. Children, I have come to realize, annoy me. Most children anyway. I am quite thankful that my friends children have all amused me in some way, so the annoyance factor has never affected my relationship with my friends' kids, but other people's children? Yeah, they are no bueno. Loud, demanding little fucks is what I see. I am well on my way to being a stellar mother. No doubt.

    So tomorrow, it is early mass and then back across the river (this is twice in 3 days if you are keeping track) to go walking with Karen at the park. I believe I will be bringing the Pooper with me and from there, we shall make the trek out to the beach in order for him to get some quality time with brackish water and to take a dump in the Gulf. It is not common knowledge but that is a damn good time in dog world. This is why he allows me to annoy him in the ways I have demonstrated on here and put clothes on him that any self respecting animal would have ripped my throat out for already. He is surely biding his time and will take me down in my sleep one night.

    I think my brain is finally empty. I can now finish watching this movie, When A Stranger Calls (only my 15th time watching it), and get some much needed shut eye. Have a fab weekend.

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    Elizabeth at 12:48 AM


    Friday, February 09, 2007

    What I do when I should be working

    Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos

    This came out a little dark, but here is the Pooper again.


    Elizabeth at 9:21 AM


    Thursday, February 08, 2007

    Open letter to my mother

    Holy fucking hell woman, you piss me the fuck off. You are not fucking stupid. You are not fucking invalid. Get the fuck over yourself before I take you and your cat and leave you on a set of railroad tracks somewhere with a note pinned to your collar that says "Please take me in."

    I am tired of you doing absolutely nothing. I am tired of you acting fucking stupid. I am so GOD DAMNED TIRED. Get up. Clean something. Empty something. Dust something. Why on God's green earth do I have to spell every fucking thing out for you. You have lived 60 some years on this planet. You were a fucking A student in school and very good at your job at one time. Do NOT give me this shit that "this is what happens when you age." You are not 90, for Christ's sake. Guess what? I have a job. I have enough to do. You handle a total of nothing. You pay the 3 bills or so that you get a month without me hounding you but that is IT. I have to take care of everything. I understand that you don't drive. I understand that you rely on me and hubs to get you to the doctor or where ever. But when you bitch to me about your neurologist and then refuse to change from him or refuse to be proactive in any way shape or form, my sympathy goes bye bye.

    The next time you accuse me of being anal or of being picky, well, fuck woman, I wonder why? It is either do shit right the first time and realize how much easier life is or do shit your way and bitch the whole fucking time because heaven for-goddamned-bid you had to get off the computer and still have the shit be WRONG. I am not the parent here. I don't want to parent my own mother. It would be one thing if your bullshit was a necessary thing - was literally a medical necessity - but it is not. So get the fuck over yourself. And if you don't go on vacay soon to see the fam, I swear to uppercase GOD that I will just drive you to the airport and leave you there. I need a fucking BREAK.


    Elizabeth at 6:30 PM


    I am not sure what about this story pisses me off the most

  • Doctors Are Not Giving Advice or Care if it contradicts their beliefs

  • WTF? I'm sorry - do we live in Vatican City or what?


    Elizabeth at 4:27 PM



    How fucking hilarious is it that when I just went out to get the mail, there was an advertisement for $100 bucks off some gold toofers at a place called Slugs for Thugs and the offer is in honor of Black History Month?

    Oh fuck, I can't breathe.....


    Elizabeth at 2:55 PM


    So fucking tired

    Ok, I just spent the last 2 hours talking to the bitches and forgot to post so you get bullets.

    *Dad is okay. No surgery so he is having more chemo mixed with radiation 5 days a week.
    *That being said, I can go to the Blowout. I emailed the hubs to make sure he does not care (which I doubt he does) so unless some whacked out shit happens, I am off to Hoooooooston.
    *Did I mention I am tired?
    *Currently starting season 4 of the Sopranos. Is it sick that I find Tony Soprano hot in a fat, bald, revolting kind of way?
    *Hubs got his apnea machine. God bless.
    *I want to say a big thanks to the bitches who got me thru the last week or two with a personal issue. A few of those bitches went way above and beyond and for that I am beyond grateful. Thank you big bunch of hobags.
    *Saw a shitload of movies this weekend - Prozac Nation, The Illusionist, The Hills Have Eyes......you decide which of those suck ass....
    *It was 71 fucking degrees today. I had windows open bitches. Just when I decide living in this God forsaken place sucks, the weather busts out with that shit.
    *Only a kagillion more weeks before I am done with Jesus classes and become all Catholic and shit. My soul best be thankful for this shit. All I'm sayin...
    *I flat out forgot to pay two separate bills this month. Y'all - I am anal with this shit and two times in two days I realized "Holy shit, I did not pay that." Um, did the plethora of extra money not ring a bell? Oh wait, there was no extra money. Right. My bad.
    *Hubs nad surgery is in a couple months. Soon I will be asking for you to pray or chant or whatever for good swimmers. No more shrinkage (as I asked for Dad's surgery). Shrinkage, in this case, would be BAD. Ya feel me?

    OK, I must sleep. In less than 8 hours, the hubs will come home and the stupid brainless dog will explode with excitement in such a way that it will become necessary for him to vibrate my entire fucking bed. This of course occurs while Reba wraps herself around my head in a panic. Why...exactly.....do I want to add children to this mix?

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    Elizabeth at 12:06 AM


    Friday, February 02, 2007

    Quick rant

    If this dog next door does not shut his pie hole and go back to sniffing asses the way God intended, it will be dog kebobs for dinner.

    That's all I'm sayin.


    Elizabeth at 2:29 PM


    Thursday, February 01, 2007

    A long overdue update and one very bad dog

    First off, this is my new purchase. I have mentioned on Lost In Suburbia's blog that I wanted a barn star a few times and I always have admired her decorating dealios she has going over there. So I found this guy on eBay last week or so. No, a few weeks actually. I think it is 36 inches across and that awesome burnt red color. I dig it.

    What do you get when you cross this.....

    ......with this?

    Answer: One very bad dog trotting down the hall carrying my STEELERS BEAR like it is his newest acquisition? Little fucker. I would string him up but he has no balls.

    So anyway, my life. Yes, my life. Well, it's been okay. I have discovered the joys of talking to the bitches online. That, right there, is big fun. I have also been talking to Pissy via email while we both work and that hag took today off and I had to be all productive and shit. Bitch. Then, there is Tracy, aka Fuzzball, who cracks my shit up on the regular. I gotta say, you nutty ass bitches keep me sane.

    OK, not sane.

    Um, not homicidal. Let's go with that one. That is more truthful.

    Today was Dad's final PET scan. Now we wait like 5-7 days to get the results. So again, think shrinkage, internets. Or maybe gone. How about gone? I like gone. Shoot for the stars, bitches. Personally if I could go in there and rip the tumors out myself I would.

    Let's not even discuss what a skanky whore blogger was being today. Dude, what the fuck? How am I supposed to pass the time when I take breaks from listening to doctors drone on and on when I can't comment on blogs? On the same day Pissy deserts me because of a little snow. Pfffft.

    Oh, and I have a cold. Nothing major. But from the neck up, it is Snotfest 2007. Nothing is funnier than having a sneeze sneak up on you and you let loose with such force that you scare the dog who is under the bed behind you and you hear his head make a very telltale clunk noise hitting the bed frame when he jumped from the noise. It is becoming more and more clear just where all his brain cells went.

    I know it looks like he has been hitting the doobage and THAT is the reason for the brain cells jumping ship at such a rapid pace, but it is the constant blunt head trauma, I assure you. Nary a surface is safe - coffee tables, corners of walls, door jambs, and now bed frames. They all have dents from his melon making contact.

    I blew off class last night due to feeling like ass. Could I have made it? Sure. I was not dying. I just was tired and felt ick-tastic and just did not want to bother. I'm sure God will get over it. He has bigger things to deal with. Like assholes. There are a lot of assholes in this world. He needs to smite them.


    Sorry, I digress. I had a very active evening of Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. Plus of course my Y&R that I can tape now due to DVR. I will just spare you all the week long saga of my DirecTV vs. cable nightmare, but suffice it to say, I now have cable and DirecTV can kiss my lily white ass. Surprisingly enough, I am very calm and polite in dealing with customer service people and tech peeps on the phone because really, it is not their fault that the company they work for are direct descendants of the devil so why be an asshat to them? However, we are now involved in a billing dispute due to us supposedly breaking a contract. I will go and personally style Camel Toe Annie's hair before any of those cocksuckers see a dime of my hard earned cash. Booooooyah.

    I have been taking craptastic care of myself lately. I gotta snap out of it and realize that this really bizarre, half curly, half straight hairdo I got going just is probably not the look for me. However, when I exit the shower with wet hair, do not take the time to blow it dry and then straighten it, and then pull the top half back, the normal curls and ponytail bump make it into some nightmare that Belinda Carlisle probably wore in about 1986. In other words, Kami would FUG my ass soon as look at me. It's no bueno, y'all. Starting tomorrow, I give a shit again.

    Or Monday. Whatever.

    So that is really all that has been going on. All is quiet on the homefront. I have not killed the dog yet. Despite his best efforts. Just keep the dad in your prayers or chants or whatever the fuck each of y'all do. Slaughter a sheep for him. I could not give a shit less. Do what you gotta do.

    I'm out.

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    Elizabeth at 8:46 PM


    If this does not make you cry, you have ice in your veins

  • 64-year-old man sings on "Idol" as a tribute to wife

  • I promise to do a real post later.


    Elizabeth at 5:38 PM