Here’s my counteroffer to your counteroffer — go fuck yourself

January 30, 2009 at 9:08 pm (Exorcising Demons, The Monkeys in My Head) (, , , , , , )

The monkeys are at it again. I’m having a very difficult time letting go of something that doesn’t even exist. Intellectually, I know what is in my best interests so this shouldn’t even be a consideration but I can’t help hard-racking this to death. And because I’m giving it so much consideration and really want to forget about it for at least seven or 45 minutes, I’m feeling a bit Butchie Yost and thinking, “I’m going to get high, I’m going to get fucking high.” But like Butchie, can’t seem to get the deed done as I fear hangovers in the worse possible way.

Why do we do this to ourselves? It isn’t even worth the time and energy I’ve spent on it.  I know what it is, it’s the shiny and sparkly that I’m missing and oh dear Lord little baby Jesus how will I cope? My mother, who can be pretty damn funny, told me I should just forget about dating and go to the adult store and stock up on supplies. Wiser words have never been spoken.

The other thing I can’t get past is I keep feeling like I must have done something wrong. It was my decision in the end, the only rational one to be made, but I still can’t help thinking that if I had done something differently there wouldn’t have been such a turn of events. That is just stupid, I never do anything wrong, I am a Goddess and I must always remember this.

While deep in the throws of composition I took time out to do some reading and here is a snippet of something I found interesting:

Compatibility is rarely a factor in attraction, because it doesn’t create that attractive spark. We are more likely to be attracted to mates who stimulate us because they are different, who open doorways into worlds that are new to us. Perfect compatibility is boring – it’s sitting on the sofa watching tv for the rest of our lives. Few of us are really looking for this kind of relationship.

The arena(s) in which we will do most of our soul growth is/are indicated in the natal astrological chart. A soulmate relationship generally begins with a feeling of fatednessand kinship, which signifies that there will be contact on a soul level. This does not necessarily mean that marriage and a lifetime of perfect harmony will follow, but rather than this relationship will provide lessons and growth experiences for you. It is not unusual for this kind of relationship to fall away once the lessons have been learned so that the individual can move on to the next level.

That all sounds good but what are the lessons here?

  1. Don’t be such a dumbass
  2. Take a vow of chastity and blog more as a distraction
  3. Find someone boring and be happy with them
  4. Paint your nails and call it a day
  5. I still have much more suffering to do

The suffering comes from something J. Drill once said back in 2003 when we were flying off on a whirl-wind adventure. Still worried about terrorists and flying in general, I said something about the plane going down and J. Drill said to me, “Won’t happen, you haven’t suffered enough yet.” Damn that woman and her psychic abilities!

So one beautiful fall morning I happened to spy, with my little eyes, what would become my PTSD for some time to come when I witnessed what the full range of plethora looks like close up. At this point, J. Drill said I had perhaps suffered enough and shouldn’t fly anytime soon (see, I’m not the only one who has to laugh in the face of tragedy!). I truly felt that this was the coup de grâce and things could only get better but no, hell no. Fate or whatever laughed at me and it roared its ugly head once again just a week later. Anyway, my point is, it’s not over till its over and until then we just have to stand it like a man and give some back.  And I propose that it might just be a splendid idea to stand it like a man and hit the range; give some back with some names on the targets.

On an up note, I got my hair done today and I must say it looks mighty fine and sassy. And I’m pretty sure it makes me look at least 2-3 months younger!

And the title, well that’s just in case I should get a call at some point seeking a counteroffer.

Permalink Leave a Comment

When Disappointment is Overwhelming

January 29, 2009 at 3:29 pm (Polls, The Monkeys in My Head) (, , )

Last Friday night I had a conversation with someone and they told me something I needed to hear and I’m grateful that the truth came. So this past week, while trying to process my indignation over the whole matter, I have been hoping I could come up with some kind of hilarity in all of this to:

  1. Deal with it
  2. Have something to post on the blog

Honestly, not coming up with much.

I want to know why this source of disappointment appeared in my life?These life lessons are starting to wear thin on me. I sort of know why but I want to lay it out on the lab table, dissect it, look at it under the microscope, light it on fire, and then put the ashes in my mini Eiffel Tower urn, cuz that’s how I roll. The only satisfaction I’m getting right now is knowing what a bitch Karma can be and perhaps I racked up a few points on this one.

I want to know what the fuck is wrong with people?  There must be good people out there. I must find a way to distract the bad ones from entering my life, I’m so done with them.  Perhaps I need to wear a big button. As the great philosopher J. Drill once said, “I’m tired of being their momma and trying to teach them the difference between right and wrong.”  So for those that do know the difference between right and wrong and being a decent human being, the line forms to my left.

Let’s have a poll! I sure hope someone can come up with better answers for me.

ETA: Why doesn’t my poll show what was typed into other? Aren’t the poll fairies working?

Permalink 4 Comments

Thoughts Even the Monkeys Fear to Tread

January 28, 2009 at 10:05 pm (Mad Cow List) (, , )

So the other day I had to go to this old guy’s place, and by old guy I do mean pushing 70 or so. Out of the corner of my eye I happen to notice a towel on the floor and a few other items. It took me a minute and then I realized two of the items were Vaseline and baby oil. Lube much? Ewww!

Permalink 1 Comment

Note to Self

January 24, 2009 at 1:49 pm (Note to Self)

Stock up on can goods, rice, beauty products and ammo, stat! Y’all know we must still look good for the revolution, right?

Thanks J. Drill for the heads up!

Permalink 2 Comments

When Translations Get Mixed Up

January 21, 2009 at 10:41 pm (Monkey Business, My Hypochondria)

After reading the article posted below I believe I have Alien Ankle Syndrome.

Alien Hand Syndrome is a very unusual neurological disorder. The person that has this disorder seems to have a hand that has a mind of its’ own. It sounds like it is something straight out of an episode of X-Files. This condition happens after someone has a major trauma to the brain or after they have a stroke.

The brain controls the functions of the limbs. So with this disorder, your brain is sending the messages to your hand but the hand does not understand the message. Your brain says shake that mans hand while the hand translates it as slap that guy in the face. The translation gets completely mixed up.

People who have this syndrome do things like take off their glasses and throw them on the ground or they will grab people by the arms that they do not know. They are unable to control what they do. It is said that 1 out of every 100 stroke victims are prone to get this condition.”

As far as I know, this has in no way affected my hands and I haven’t had a stroke or major brain trauma (though that’s always up for debate). 

Obviously since the name has the word Alien in it and they mention the X-Files, they are involved. I do think there was a good chance I was abducted by aliens (or Fox Mulder) and they thoroughly probed my ankle. I’m pretty sure they implanted some kind of buzzer in it, like one of those hand buzzers but only way cooler because it was invented by aliens. So anyway, when they are bored and want a good laugh they press their alien doohickey and I start limping and yelling things like, “Fuck, Shit, Son-of-Biscuit!” And staying true to the klutz that I am, I end up running into walls or falling over things, usually the poor dog as he’s always under foot.

In the last paragraph they mention taking off your glasses and throwing them on the ground. I take my glasses off and sometimes knock them to the ground! And grabbing people by the arms that you do not know… seriously, I can’t tell you how often I want to grab some asshole and shake them just because they’re so fucking stupid!  And most importantly, these people are unable to control what they do. This blog is becoming a fine example of my lack of self control.  

I have all the proof I need to make the diagnosis.

Permalink 3 Comments

Put that in a P.S.

January 21, 2009 at 7:29 pm (Thought of the Day)

I’m a lonely little petunia in an onion patch
I think I’ll eat a worm and die
and then you’ll be sorry.

My mom use to sing these words when I was very young and having a tantrum moment.  These are not the actual words to the song but they were my mom’s words and she found they always made me laugh and would end the moment.

I never realized that many years later I would cross someone’s path who would take this so literally. 

Fucking drama queen.

Permalink 2 Comments

Dead Kitten Mittens

January 18, 2009 at 9:27 pm (Uncategorized)

If you don’t read The Bloggess and you’re sick of reading cat posts, then you must read this post: I’m like the Thomas Edison of inventions that use dead cats. The comments are worthy too.

Permalink Leave a Comment

VW Beetle Tale #1

January 18, 2009 at 8:17 pm (Uncategorized)

So once, when in college, my BF (hereafter referred to as J. Drill) and I went out for the evening. It’s the late 70s and things were so very different then. It was before the minivan, the VCR, and stickers on your license plate. We’re in school, broke-ass poor and could barely afford gas for the car let alone license plates and all that other legal shit. So J. Drill decided that since the plates were expired that if she perhaps put a yellow piece of paper, with some scribbling on it, in right side of the window it would appear she had renewed her plates and was just waiting for them to arrive. Don’t laugh, it worked for some time… until…

So we’re on our way out, it’s bitter cold, and we’re cruising along when we see an acquaintance walking. We stopped and asked him if he needed a lift, “sure, thanks!” Dude hops in the back seat and pulls a beer out of his coat. No problem, everyone rode around drinking in cars back then.

About a block later, while turning a corner, we see red flashing. Fuck! If I remember correctly one of us at least had the foresight to rip the fake registration out of the window.

“Miss, can I see your driver’s license? Did you know that your plates are expired? Do you have a registration for your vehicle? Is there anything legal about this vehicle?”  No, he didn’t ask that and I don’t believe asked about insurance either cuz we’d be all like, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Meanwhile, drunk ass, open-sealed motherfucker in the back seat is rambling on about something like “fuckin’ pigs man.” The situation could have only improved if he had lit a spliff. I think we somehow managed to shut him up and conceal the beer before the cop walked back up to the car. It’s all a bit fuzzy to me as I’m sure I suffered a bit of the vapors from it all.

The officer walked back up to the car and said, “Miss, since you live nearby I will follow you home so you can park your vehicle until it’s properly licensed.”  Breathing a sigh of relief J. Drill just said something like, “thank you, I will get it done tomorrow” (yeah, sure we would).

We got back to our apartment and instead of going upstairs to ours we went downstairs to our friend Ray’s place. J. Drill asked Ray, “Ray, get your new plates yet?” (Back then there was a lag of time there where both plate were legal.) He said yes and she told him, “Good, the pigs just busted me for mine being expired and Poison and I are going out.  Can I borrow your old ones so my car appears legal?”  “Sure, have fun, tootaloo!” And off we went.

Permalink 4 Comments

Thought of the Day

January 18, 2009 at 7:40 pm (Thought of the Day)

I be will nothing less than revered. That is all.

P.S. And I don’t mean for my blogging skills.

Permalink Leave a Comment

#45 on the Mad Cow List

January 14, 2009 at 3:50 pm (Mad Cow List)

I feel so out of the loop…

Screwvenir:  Rhymes with (souvenir); This is something, a personal item, that you take with you after a night of wild lovemakin’, after a booty call, or a one-night-stand. You take these things without the original owners’ knowledge. It could be a t-shirt, cd, lighter, hairbrush, etc., that belonged to the person you just hooked up with. Sort of like a ‘souvenir’ of the encounter.

After Tim and I fucked like bunnies and past out, I screwvenired his entire collection of lawn gnomes.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Next page »