Oh Den-Den!
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: Danzig

So the other night my mom calls.

 

“Oh Meg, I have something I have to tell you (sob).”

 

Me, kind of stressing, “Mom, what is it?”

 

“Well, you can’t tell your father but…”

 

OK. Right there—issueville! AKA READ: “I am full of shit so don’t tell your dad.” 

 

“What is it mom?”

 

“Well, you know I went to the doctor today about the problems I’ve been having with my eyes.”

 

Well, no I didn’t but okay.

 

“Well, according to the doctor, I have a hereditary eye disease. I don’t remember what it’s called but if I see a whitish, bluish, yellowish line I will go blind if I don’t get to the doctor within 2 hours.”

 

WHAT?!!!!

 

So I say “Holy crap mom, it’s hereditary?”

 

Sniff, sniff, “Yes.”

 

“Well who else in the family has had it?”

 

“Well, I looked back on grandma’s genealogy chart and apparently my great, great somebody or other, I can’t remember exactly, was in a civil war battle and saw the whitish, bluish, yellowish line and was blind within 2 hours!”

 

Uh, huh. And pop, the trapped care taker, basically isn’t to know about our ‘I could go blind in 2 hours’ conversation? Yeah.

 

Welcome to my world....

SIX WEIRD THINGS ABOUT ME....
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: Modest Mouse -Stiff Animal Fantasy

Only six of the many weirdly cool things about me. So get sniggering, folks. Gleds tagged me with this one….

1. I AM DEATHLY AFRAID OF GRASSHOPPERS. I am terrified of the little fuckers I tell you! Ever since one got tangled in my hair when I was a kid—shudder!!! Pop had to cut it out of my hair!!!! I will walk way out of the way to avoid the beady-eyed little bastards!

2. MY THUMBS ARE DOUBLE-JOINTED. Not really useful for anything and far more impressive as a party trick than stuffing my entire fist into my mouth….depending on the audience.

3. I WEEP LIKE A LITTLE BITCH WHENEVER I HEAR ‘YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE’ AND ‘PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON’. And yes, I know the one is a metaphor for drugs…. now. What can I say? I’m a softie for animals, I cry for the dragon outside of the drug context. I used to sing ‘You are my Sunshine’ with my grandfather after Alzheimers took the light of life out of his eyes.

4. I CAN’T FOLLOW SPORTS ON THE RADIO. I am a visual person. I just can’t seem to follow an active sports event on the radio. I can’t visualize the play. I absolutely love hockey, but I can’t follow it on the radio. It annoys me so I don’t like to listen to it.

5. I'M ADDICTED TO BOOKS. Seriously. I am a junkie for the written word. I can get a notice from the library that a book I want is in and I will get all shades of worked up—breathless and psyched. The anticipation before I go pick it up is almost more than I can stand. I jones for new material.

6. I AM A MASTER OF THE ART OF THE SHADOW PUPPET. I am crazy good with the shadow puppets. From the “angry ant” to the “happy bunny”, just give me a flashlight and a dark room and watch me go wild.  

Make Believe--Deb's Answers
Mood:  silly
Now Playing: The Specials

Make Believe
Mood:  silly
Now Playing: Fall Out Boy - This Ain't a Scene, It's An Arms Race

Ok, these questions are weird and in real life none of this would probably ever happen no matter how hard I wish, so I’m just doing it ‘cuz it’s fun...here are my answers—feel free to post yours too!

You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
Osama bin Laden or Kim Jong Il—those fuckers just needs to die!

You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?
The Beatles. Just kidding, that would be sacrilege. I would have to say Nickleback. Those guys are a total waste of breath. Nice Dr. Suess lyrical styling--NOT!!

Who would you really like to just punch in the face?  
Jane Fonda. I still haven’t forgiven that bitch for Vietnam.

What is your favorite cheese? Hmmmm….Cheese! I have to pick just one? Jeesh--Gorgonzola or a nice odiferous head cheese I guess (kidding on the head cheese that shit’s beyond nasty!!!

You can only have one kind of sandwich for eternity. With every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal what is your sandwich? I’m a simple broad. I am just not about the nuevo cuisine when it comes to my sandwiches. Call it my inner Dagwood. It would be either the day after Thanksgiving turkey sandwich with turkey, mayo and salt on whole wheat or rare roast beef and extra sharp cheddar with mayo on sourdough.
 
You have the opportunity to sleep with the t.v./movie-celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once (and they will never call you back). Yeah, I don’t do casual sex but for these questions, I will set aside my morals, my serious misgivings and overall creeped-out-ness about sex with a random stranger and totally hit Jensen Ackles of the show Supernatural—that man is beyond smoking hot!!!!!

You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Same rules as above. Who is it? Wow am I a total whorebucket lately or what!?! Hmmm….Mike Ness of Social D or Scott Russo of Unwritten Law. I’d say Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy but he's now sporting one of those hideous trendy new hairdos—the man-bob. What’s the dude doing? Channeling his inner Rosie O’Donnell or worse?

Now that you've slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy Moley, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna’ spend it? On more condoms—‘cuz with all the action I’ve been getting in my recent slutfest, I’ve probably used all the ones I had. And, as I have been well screwed by 2 hot guys and found $100, I’m definitely buying Powerball tickets ‘cuz I am feeling beyond lucky!!!!!
 
You just got a free first class plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? To Hell in a hand basket! Oops, already done that! Ahhhh…New Zealand—it’s summer there and I can kick it on the beach after touring the wineries!
 
Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, where are you gonna go to spend that? Is it an American $100 or Kiwi? Makes a HUGE difference with the exchange and all…I’m going to tour their fantabulous vineyards and buy a few bottles to bring back to you poor slobs who aren’t having such a fuck all lucky week!
 
An angel (must look like me J ) appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. What do you choose? Crap, these questions are definitely getting harder!!! I’ll have to go with that classic choice--Grey Goose….or Padron….or….
 
Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you traveling to and what are you going to do when you get there? I’m going back to August 1^st, 2001, and I’m stopping my friend John from committing suicide and having me find his body.
 
You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
No clothing of course J
 
You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what's the premise?  It’s called Meg-O-Rama and it’s based loosely upon the random events and happenings in my life and my quirky ‘could be stand up’ humor…or it could be about me having back-to-back glazed donut sex with 2 stars, finding a $100 bill, taking off for a last minute vacation to New Zealand, finding another $100 bill and winning a lifetime supply of the booze of my choice…

What is your favorite expletive? Both “Fucktard!” and “Mother of Ass” are all time favs.
 
One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything; they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?  How did this go from a total wet fantasy dream to ‘You’re having a sleepover and your friends start to disappear one-by-one accompanied by eerie music’?! I’d get the Hell out of the room but stop to grab a stray end of wrapping to see if they really do spin around in a circle when you unwind them like on Scooby Doo.
  
The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?I’m going to have to do Jensen Ackles 12 ways to Tuesday again even though the bastard never did call me!

You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What's it gonna be? Buns of Steel…barring that, mind reading/telepathy like Professor X although invisibility would be pretty cool too—endless possibilities there!

You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out... you can move to anywhere else in the world! I’m going to Canada! It’s exactly like the U.S. but different....Like America’s red headed bastard step child. Kind of like the Mexico of the North without all of the Mexicans….

You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?Frasher’s Smokehouse & Lounge in Scottsdale, AZ, or World’s End Pub on Camden High Street, London.  

Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question.... If you did, then we'll just expand on that. Check it out... Suddenly, you have gained the ability to FLOAT!!! Whose house are you going to float to first, and be like "Dude look at me I can float!"Jensen Ackles to ask him why he didn’t call and then over to Heather’s so I could  freak her out by being all shades of spooky and such doing the back stroke outside her 2^nd floor bedroom window.
 
The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous-person of your choice. So which late celebrity will you bring back to life? Princess Diana. She seemed like a Hell of a broad and it would be a total kick in the slats to watch the Queen crap tacks upon Diana’s most unwelcome return.
 
The Celestial Gates of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn't think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity (even cooler than the Angel of Death, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?My friend John

What's your theme song?

I am far too random to be pegged by a theme song but if I had to choose something to represent me? Mahna, Mahna by the Muppets ‘cuz it’s all about the fun and silliness!

That is Not a Dog....It is a Mutant Platypuss
Mood:  silly
Now Playing: The Jam

What can I say about my choices in animals? Well, probably that they’re not really my choices. Pop has often told me that somewhere up in the cosmos is a neon sign that points to me and says “SUCKER!” Hence why animals are always showing up at my door or putting themselves in my path.

 

I can’t say no. I have placed tons of dogs and cats over the years and even a peach faced love bird (took me 3 days to trap that little bastard—I called him ‘Budgy Man’ as I had no idea what kind of bird he was—just knew little electric green & pink birds shouldn’t hang outside in the desert in July). Anyone I can’t place, I keep. My sister has this ‘disease’ too so apparently it’s a genetic thing….

 

My menagerie is actually ‘down’ to 2 dogs, 2 cats, 10 overgrown goldfish masquerading as low rent Koi and a 1,350 lb off the track Thoroughbred—all rescues.

 

One of my dogs is a total nutjob. He’s beyond retarded in the ‘window-licking-short bus-riding-it’s me Bobby’ kind of way. Seriously. The vet can’t tell if it was birth canal trauma or if it was neurological trauma from being hit by a car or beaten. Either way, little man has some issues. He can’t hold himself up as his legs give out under the weight of his own body. He flails. He leaps. He runs into cabinets on a regular basis. He throws his front legs up in front of him when he walks so that he appears to be gaited—like a horse. He spins like a gator to get away from you during play. He has no concept of personal space—mine or anything or anyone else’s. He barks for me to let him in the house in when I am outside looking at him from across the yard. He gets so excited when petted that he rolls off the couch and doesn’t try to catch himself. Basically, he’s a loveable sweet little idiot who provides countless hours of comic relief.

 

I wanted to name him ‘Porkchop’ as he’s fat, brown and would probably taste good grilled but my sister informed me that I couldn’t name my dog after a pork product so I figured ‘Scrapple’ was definitely out of the equation as well. I ended up going with a variation of ‘Porkchop’ and named him Chopper.

 

I am one of those annoying pet parents who make weird noises and insipid baby talk to my animals. I make weird noises and talk to myself anyway so it’s not much of a reach. I also have nicknames for my animals. Chopper has several.

 

• Choppaquiddick
• Choppity do dah, Choppity eh
• Choppaloppadingdong
• Craaaaaaazy dog
• Bounder
• Choppalicious
• Porkchoppy
• Chopmeister
• Popo Gigio
• Choppyding
• Chuppacabra (like the goats blood sucking alien creature in South America)
• Beebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeeeee
• Punky Brewster
• And last, but not least- Chocolate Thunder (his pornstar name)

It’s probably all of these freaky baby names that confuse him and make him even more insane than he is already. Maybe that’s why he has random fears like ‘fear of the water bowl’ and the ever arbitrary ‘fear of the kitchen’.

 

The first one is constant and he will lean over as far as he can and stretch his tongue out as far as it reaches to lap the water and still escape the clutches of the dreaded puppy killing water bowl!

 

The kitchen fear is actually pretty funny. That one comes and goes much like my attention span. Sometimes he will bark incessantly and then race across the linoleum not realizing that the faster he goes, the more his legs slip out from under him as his claws can’t get traction at his frantic pace.  Other times, he will not cross the floor and will stand in doorway to the family room barking like a maniac until I carry him across to ‘safety’. I always wonder if he’s having an acid flashback and the walls are breathing or if he knows that the evil alien linoleum is waiting to swallow him whole and just belch back up his red fleece collar with its little heart shaped dog tag that says “I’m Chopper-I’m not very smart”.

 

This is the dog that my mother is certain is a vicious attack dog. Yeah, idiot boy of the Serengeti AKA the destroyer! She told my sister before Thanksgiving that she was scared to come to my house because of him. She was certain that he would ‘sense’ the next time she has a seizure and rip her face off and kill her! Hmmmm….we should be so lucky—KIDDING! My sister told mom not to worry about it that it wasn’t possible as after her facelift there’s just no way Chopper would be able to find enough loose skin on her face to really get a good firm grip….it’s all tucked behind her ears.

He's a face ripper,life taker, mom killer, don’t you mess around with him!!!!(Yes, sung to Pat Benatar’s ‘Heartbreaker’- soooo completely silly of me but what do you expect from a chick who sings to her dogs??)

Nothing says vicious attack dog like ding dong Chopper….admit it-you're scared to death just seeing his picture!!!!

 

Oh My God! I just figured it out, he’s a shaved mutant Ewok!

Celebrity Gossip AKA I believe...
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: Tool

That Demi Moore has the IQ of a gnat but knows how to market herself to the brainless masses. That she looks so amazing because she had more than $400,000 of plastic surgery prior to Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle including a knee lift (can't have saggy old broad knees!) That one reason the movie didn't do better at the box office was that Demi's offscreen romance with Ashton eclipsed her onscreen comeback.

That Ashton Kutcher is not much brighter than his tv character but is getting such good head that he doesn't mind the plasticene feel of Demi's fake breasts.

And that as Brittney Murphy said "I suppose the crux of their relationship basically means to him that age doesn't matter and to her that size doesn't matter." Not at all bitter there is she....?!

Mike Myers Or....
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: Fun Boy Three

Well, I hate to be an un-PC beotch....well, not really and yet....

 

But is it just me or does Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, India’s President, look like the ultimate Mike Myers character?

 

Which one is the President of India??  I know....I'm evile....but you totally lurve it!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of Inner Freak....
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: The Jam

Ever go into work or to a meeting where someone is wearing something so a) totally inappropriate for a business office and so b) closet whore that your mind goes places it never had before into the endless possibilities of just what is her inner freak exactly?

 

I walk into work and one of our customers, a borderline 50 yr old, is wearing her typical day gear. A rather severe and uninspired wool suit from what I swear must be the Barbara Walters collection—you know, subdued plaid jacket and straight black skirt that ends just a tad above the knees. And at her knees is where everything changes and I mean everything!

 

Below the tres serious and boring work skirt lay a pair of smoking hot black leather boots fit for a high class call girl! Grrrrrr baby! Seriously! Stunning whorish style there! To say 'Dominatrix spending the weekend in Nantucket' would be a classic understatement! Serious wow factor boots!

 

So, you know me, I have to say something. I SO can not let it go! It’s like seeing your mother in a leather garter and matching thong. It’s absolutely horrific and appalling and yet you just can’t look away because it is just a total waste!

 

So I say “Hey suh-weet boots hot mama! Way to work it! Ya! Ya!” She must have blushed 12 shades of pink right to the top of her overly shiny forehead. She kind of giggled and thanked me. I have to push it so I said “Seriously—nice! I don’t even want to know where those boots were last night!”

 

Ok, can I just tell you? I'm jokingly teasing her (the boots were way hot although beyond wasted on her and her outfit and SO totally wrong for the office) when I notice that she has this rather self satisfied 'don't you wish you knew' smirk on her face. It was funny and yet again, like seeing dear old mum, just all shades of icky.

 

I quickly moved away from her lest I catch something a little dirty and disturbing....like whatever old broad inner freak visions that were dancing like sugarplums in her botched brassy blonde highlighted head….

 

And you wonder why I try to avoid shaking hands with people.....Shudder!

5 Things I Realized Over the Long Weekend
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Justin Timberlake-SexyBack

• That ‘The Covenant’ could have been, hands down, the best movie ever made if they had just added in 2 more shower/locker room scenes.

 

• Apparently I have become the kind of old perve that I despised in college drooling over smoking hot nekkid 20-something ‘boymen’.

 

• My profanity filled version of ‘Working 9 to 5’ is very popular at karaoke night. (Just liberally sprinkle f-bombers throughout the song and you get the idea).

 

• After a crappy conference in DC, it would appear that I am unable to restrain my imbibing so that I don’t get so tanked that I end up getting dragged to karaoke night in the first place, let alone on stage and not in a traditional back up singer position.

 

• That after being divorced for 4 years I have decided to take back my hard to pronounce foreign sounding maiden name rather than carry on with my ex husband’s easy to pronounce cool sounding moniker. Yeah. I’m not bitter. Seriously.

Quackery Factory
Mood:  hug me
Now Playing: Eve Six-Inside Out

So I was channel surfing the other night and stopped on QVC to see them selling this: The Glory of Jesus tunic by Quacker Factory. Yes, quacker---like a duck. My first thought was it had to be a typo—Quaker not Quacker, but I was tres wrong!

 

The horror!

The only reason I stopped was the vision of the ginormous broad in the sparkly headband hocking the schlocky clothing line! OH DEAR GOD! It was like seeing Rip Torn in bad drag! As opposed to good drag which we likey…I mean who doesn’t? But just what is that in her head anyway? It looks like a LaToya Jackson headband on sparkly steroids! Or a Harry Potter hat that was ripped asunder or eaten away by her ginormous cranium! Shudder!

At first glance, at a distance, I thought it was South Park threads!!! Then I realized it was HIDEOUS glittery embroidered Jesus wear!!! I was already expecting the coming of the horsemen of the Apocalypse what with Madgepie, AKA Madonna with the faux British accent, hocking her anklebiter books on HSN! Has no one any shame anymore but I digress….

So just what everyone one needs--another stumpy matron clothing line! The Midwesterners must be moist in anticipation! All of those bratwurst sucking heinamackafrau (housekeepers see Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid) weeping with joy over a sweater embellished with appliqués, beaded stars, embroidery, and sequins that celebrates the birth of Jesus. <shudder!>

Yeah cuz nothing says ‘I love Jesus’ like a Quacker Factory Glory of Jesus Tunic Sweater! It would be hysterical and priceless if I bought one to wear but everyone who knows me would NEVER believe that I would wear something like this unless all the nativity scene folks were mimes or handcuffed!

Besides, I think I would break out in hives and weeping sores if I put it on! I haven’t had something like that close to my skin since I was too young to argue against it! Appliques and Glitter! UGH!!! Just say NO!!!! The horror!

Even more interesting, size 4/5 is considered extra small and 3x is a fricking 28W!!!!! Talk about your large girl vanity sizing! Oy!

The Freaks Come Out at Night
Mood:  surprised
Now Playing: Ministry (Every day is Halloween)
So I had my first Halloween in the new pad. WAHOO! I got all shades of into it! Skeletons decorated the front of the house, flickering candles, etc.  Below are the pics of me getting ready to become the 'dead' cowgirl (I was hung.…hmmmm, perhaps I should have been a dead cowboy then?) I think I look pretty darn creepy although in one of the pics I look eerily like a more butch version of Boy George....I was told the 'getting ready' pic should be entitled "Cocaine meets Heroin". I always have out a little 'treat' for the adults--this year it was ice cold Stella Artois beer--hence why my house was REALLY popular last night. Word of free booze apparently spreads like wildfire in the suburbs! On a random note—a note I do well-- Do you have any idea how many folks have emailed me to tell me how smoking hot I look dead? WTF!?! It’s a compliment and yet....not so much! 

Getting Ready AKA 'Cocaine Meets Heroin'

 

Hung Cowgirl

Beer me dead cowgirl! Beer me!

What's Your Freak?
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: Willie Nelson

Once again I present some of the searches that brought folks to Meg-O-Rama...the blog. These never fail to amuse and/or freak me out. 

• Saran Wrap condom
• Arizona Hotties (courtesy of McGee Homes)
• Pam Dawber naked
• Butterfly Mall (40^th search I swear)
• Statler & Waldorf
• Cute butt
• Tijuana donkey show
• Mauve bathroom
• Cocaine on cock
• Heeless Shoes
• Girl orgy
• Supposibly
• Poem ovaries (I don’t even want to know let alone address this)
• Rub benzocaine on nipples
• Gwyneth Paltrow panties Great Expectations

So speaking of freak, do you notice the heavy propensity towards what I consider ‘freak’ searches? The more I see what random and kind of um 'interesting' shit folks are looking for over the anonymous world of the Internet, the more I am rethinking every person I know wondering what their freak is. This in mind, I am avoiding complete strangers all together. 

I don't know why I am surprised by some of these searches. The truth is I can't fault folks for them. We all have a little freak inside of us (and no, I’m not talking about pregnant broads). I have a friend who loves to show off her stainless steel nipple clamps. I have another friend who likes to have sex in public, a lot. And a friend who enjoys feet…to the point that most folks would consider abnormal obsession/fetish.

Knowing this I don't eschew their company. But, I must say I am a little more particular about drinking from their glasses. Kidding! If the vodka was top shelf say Grey Goose, chances are I'd swallow after a leper. But, in all honesty, it has given me pause now and then. I mean do I really want to shake your hand?

However, seeing some of these searches make me rethink my own freak and my freaky friends. Suddenly they just don't seem so out there anymore. I mean when compared to say a woman screwing a donkey in Mexico, they are relatively normal.

The Great Ladder Debacle of 2006
Mood:  accident prone
Now Playing: Emerson, Lake & Palmer

So I told you that I took a header off the top of a ladder. Yeah, I wasn't kidding. Accident-prone moi on a ladder. Accident prone but not real bright is more like it as I should know betterby now.

 

My big ‘ol yard umbrella had executed an attempt to go AWOL from the yard but only managed to make it to what it thought was the relative safety of the roof. My mission? To mount a rescue mission and bring that bad boy home!

 

Out comes by ‘big boy’ ladder (as opposed to my usual ladder AKA a small fold over step ladder) all 6 impressive feet of it. The better to reach the roof with and all that jazz. I roll my sleeves up (no clean muscle shirts available for the project), start climbing (although I use that word loosely as most folks would have interpreted my movements as a seizure or a series of small strokes with my innate total lack of nimbleness and grace) and then CUT!

 

Forward to a montage of semi-action shots of me hurtling alarmingly quickly to the ground. I did, in fact, execute a rather fabulous triple firkin if I do say so myself and BAM! SO did not stick the landing! I crashed to the ground in the classic swan dirt dive formation bouncing a few times before skidding to an ugly, ugly stop.

 

First things first—check status/damage review. I managed to slam into the only patch of rocks in my backyard. Many of which are now imbedded into my shredded elbow. Otherwise, I’m ok. My hips and lower back hurt, but nothing’s broken and I didn’t lose conscience. I also haven’t knocked out my teeth for an unprecedented 3^rd time.

 

I gingerly get up and trudge slowly into the house. I have the skills of a seasoned first responder when it comes to common and not so common household injuries. I have an immediate Meg-O-Rama response plan and full on urban triage kit. Yes, I am extremely accident prone.

 

• Strip off clothes. Bend over to pick them up and toss in hamper. WHOA! That’s not good! Moan loudly. Opt to leave them on the floor until the houseboy can get to them (hallucinating and yet, no concussion).
• Run scalding, peel your skin off in sheets like a leper, bath chock full of Epson salts
• Hobble back out to kitchen while tub running to gather other supplies
• Gather other supplies: frozen peas (ice packs), tweezers (nothing like excavating for gravel in flesh!); large bottle of water (hydration important whilst sweating like a straight man in a leather bar); 2 Stella Artois (hey, it’s a cheap and natural pain killer and I deserved one..or two!)
• Stumble back to tub.
• Insert self in tub. MOTHER TRUCKER!!!!! BAD! Moan again.
• Self-medicate/treat
• Try to get the blood off of the white cat who rubbed on the gravel infested elbow as I was sweeping it for imbedded bits.
• Dunk elbow in tub. OH HOLY MOTHER OF ASS! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Moan yet again.
• Alternate bloody hot tub ‘juice’ and frozen pea ice packs to treat rapidly swelling elbow.
• Soak in tub until water is cool
• Hey! I feel hella good better!
• Wander slowly, but happily, to bedroom
• Take (2) 600 MG anti-inflammatories (I do not suggest beer & anti-inflamatories on a regular basis)
• Pass out naked onto the bed
• Wake up freezing my fricking twippy off!!!

So it’s Saturday morning. I wake up. I’m naked. I’m cold. I hurt like FUCK ALL! The body that seemed better last night seized as I blissfully slept. WOW! I feel like ass! You could bounce a quarter, or for that matter a Russian Kopek coin, off my back it was so tight! Seriously.

 

I am a toughie. I am used to being injured and I can tough out most pain decently and I do. I tooled around with a freshly broken arm. I have hobbled around with sprained ankles for years. I have sliced the top of my thumb off cutting limes for tequila shots. Cutting limes. Do you have ANY earthly concept of how much that burned?

TO BE CONTINUED... (give me a break. It's late--I'm beat!)

Now Those Are Contractors!
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: Earth, Wind & Fire

My new neighbor is completely remodeling her home prior to her eventual move in using...totally hot contractor guys. And when I say totally hot contractor guys I mean SUH-WEET! On any given day, from 5am until I get home from work for the eventual peep show, there are at least 3 hottie contractors at a minimum, wandering all over the place. A virtual cornucopia of yummyness. Seriously. Hot twins and a smolderingly hot blonde on a regular basis. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

I come home yesterday and the twins are in the front yard rinsing off under the hose as it apparently was drywall day or it was paint yourself to look like a Zulu warrior day. OH! They are soaking wet. OH MY! The next thing I know, they are pulling off their tank tops and rinsing off each other's backs, laughing and punching each other. OH MY GOD! My head snapped around faster than Nicole Ritchie can purge a Twinkie. My first reaction? To look around and try to spot the cameras-this fantasy SO has to be gay porn! Barring that, I'm dead and have gone to Heaven...or South Beach.

Regrets, I've had a few...
Mood:  surprised
Now Playing: Barenaked Ladies

I submit the following story for your consideration in the 'WTF was I thinking' otherwise known as I regret this tattoo category.

One of my friends from high school, Darrin AKA Sweet D, was a Marine and part of President Reagan's Honor Guard. One of his good buddies, Tony, was a Marine in President Reagan's Color Guard. Tony was a good ol' boy from Alabama--a very simple and brutally strong big dude--‘6'7" and burly to say the least.

Back in the day, Georgetown was a pretty wild place-the American equivalent of a 'red light' district (hookers, drugs, tattoo joints, etc.). So Tony and some of his other platoon cronies got all shades of liquored up and his buddies convinced him that he needed to get a tattoo.

When he finally managed to drunkenly wander back to the barracks many hours later, he was so bloody the MPs on duty thought that he'd been mugged or shot and raced to help him.  And when I say bloody, he was covered in blood and literally dripping as he walked.

He woke up the next morning in the barracks with his chest bandaged and he had no idea what was going on. He stumbled into the bathroom and pulled the bandage away from his chest to see what the Hell happened to him and sees the Schlitz Malt Liquor bull (yeah, the big blue one) staring back at him in the mirror. As in a blue bull that covered his entire ginormous chest. The nose and horns of the bull actually showed whenever he wore any shirt with a v-neck.

The tattoo was so big that he missed two days of work/service because it bled and scabbed so much. The Marine Corps actually tried to court martial him for destruction of government property.

 Definitely fits into that category of tattoos to regret later in life...

Things a Man Should Just Never Do....
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: Basia

• Coin his own nickname
• Use a wallet that is fastened with Velcro
• Play hacky sack
• Name his penis his name plus ‘junior and the twins’
• Still own a Nagle print
• Wear platform shoes or shoes with lifts (only Prince can carry this off—think Kim Jong Il)
• Shave his entire body
• Take a camera to a nude beach
• Actually shout out a response to "Are you ready to rock?"
• Name pets after Lord of the Rings characters
• Jokingly flash gang signs while posing for wedding photos
• Hug amusement-park characters
• Choose 69 as his jersey number
• Get his belly button pierced
• Publicly greet friends by shouting, "What's up douchebag?"
• Wear Converse All Stars with a tuxedo
• Whine
• Weep during any Bon Jovi song
• Google the word vagina
• Sport a pencil moustache
• Say "and it’s all net” every time he throws something in the trash
• Attempt to dance like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever or Pulp Fiction
• Say goodbye to anyone by even so much as whispering, "Peace out”
• Use a finger skateboard
• Say ‘Oh my God!’ about ANYTHING!
• Collect ‘bobble head’ dolls
• Wear colored contact lenses
• Drive a chick car like a convertible Rabbit or Audi TiTi

Rolling with the Homies
Mood:  party time!
Now Playing: ABBA

The other night I was at a ‘gathering’ where I proceeded to consume 5 or so (heavy emphasis on the ‘or so’) Manhattans which totally leveled me. Reducing me to feeling like the muck left at the bottom of the plastic cup (that originally held the drink I laughingly called ‘pussy juice’ due to the maraschino cherries contained within) that at some point during the course of the overly long evening, turned into an ashtray for the drunken mongrel hordes.  

After many hours of dancing, drinking and tambourine playing (it’s my thang now) I rolled home around 2am. By 5am, I was stumbling blindly around my house in search of the Demi-God of North America AKA caffeine. I was in the office, looking rather perky if I do say so, by 7am. Looking perky, but feeling like 12 shades of total ass! If history has taught me anything, it’s that on days like this it's just better to go back to bed. Unless you have a speaking engagement at a major conference….yeah. Once again, I raise my voice in a fervent prayer of thanks to the Gods of Excedrin and Red Bull. Boo-ya!

Men - you can't live with them and if you kill them it's one more mess you gotta clean.
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: Killing Joke

Why is it that whenever someone tells you “Don’t worry—I won’t be a stalker” that’s exactly what happens? Can they just disappear? No. Instead? Total freak out, meltdown, drooling like an animal, checking your blog & MySpace page daily, flinging feces at unsuspecting pedestrians…

Two Things
Mood:  silly
Now Playing: UB40
So what can I say? I am totally addicted to these damn MySpace bulletins! You know I can never be serious unless faced with a required adult serious situation. So here's another random one for you...


Two Names You Go By:
1. Nutmeg
2. Ruby

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. Pasties
2. Wolverine pelt

Two Things You Would Want in a Relationship:
1. A midget
2. Shadow puppets

Two of Your Favorite Things to do:
1. Collecting belly button lint
2. Playing bloody knuckles

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. A pony
2. For a totally nekkid Jensen Ackles to appear under my desk

Two pets you had/have:
1. A rock
2. Mr. Jingles the sock puppet

Two people who will fill this out:
1. Heather, because she already did
2. Deirdre because she’s funny as all get out with snarky answers

Two things you did last night:
1. Greco-Roman wrestled
2. Established an ant farm

Two People that you talk to everyday:
1. Myself
2. The other voices in my head

Two things you ate today:
1. Head cheese
2. Real menudo (is there any other kind?)

Two people you last spoke to in person
1. The tranny at the Starbucks drive through
2. My ventriloquist doll

Two Things You're doing tomorrow:
1. Camel trekking in Nepal
2. Building a suspension bridge using only Chiclets and Red Vines

Two longest car rides:
1. Any with my mother
2. Any with my mother

Two favorite Alcoholic beverages:
1. Rubbing alcohol
2. Only 2? I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings for being left out, so I won’t answer this

Two favorite people right now:
1. Kim Jong Il if he were tits up
2. Mr. Goodbar

Two favorite sayings:
1. I’m all shades of________ (fill in the blank)
2. Jeezy Creezy!

Two people you want to visit:
1. The Dali Lama
2. Santa Claus

Two times you've cried recently:
1. During an international coffee commercial last night
2. When I executed a triple firkin from the top of a 6 ft ladder and so did not stick my landing

Two things you're worrying about:
1. Will the Coyote ever catch the Roadrunner
2. The rising cost of okra

Two songs you've listened to recently:
1. The Gregorian chant version of Rod Stewart’s ‘If You Think I’m Sexy”
2. Eddie Murphy 'Party All the Time'

It's a Family Reunion Thang
Mood:  party time!
Now Playing: America
So a few weekends ago, I went to the Spatchmo family reunion (dad’s relatives)….in Yuma! The cousins were flying in from around the country—Hawaii, Michigan, etc. so I had to be there even though it meant cancelling pre-existing plans that I am still trying to kiss up and make better. Oy! My feet were a wreck so I headed over and got a pedicure. The minute I arrive at the hotel and see my parents, my mom looks down and says “Your toenails are sooo long!” and I say “I like them that way mom—the better to decimate termite mounds.” She sniffs and says “Must be nice to be able to afford a pedicure. I buy all my jeans at Good Will.” (NOTE: This is the woman who claimed that she and pop were “destitute” while they were in the middle of a $40,000 kitchen remodel—yeah, I wanna be that kind of destitute!) I totally lie and say “Mom, I didn’t get a pedicure, I did it myself” and she replies “Well, it does look like a monkey painted them.” OH YEAH!!! You just can’t win! 

Nutshell recap of the remainder of my weekend?

-Went to Mexico --the cousins and I bought a lot of cheap booze (or should I say bought a lot of booze cheap) Tried to barter to buy an underage cabana boy but his mother wanted far too many pesos for him

 

-Sandrailed

-Did a semi-polar bear swim by hopping into the canal in order to wash off the dirt and sand (from sandrailing) It was filty and probably contaminated by God knows what, but as buzzed as we all were, I think we were pretty impervious to disease

-Played a mean tambourine for the family sing a long (my sister & I the only ones on my dad's side of the family that don't play an actual musical instrument as apparently my air drums don't count)

-drank, drank, drank, drunk

-Went to Chretins for Mexican food (gramps dropped dead in the parking lot there after dinner one night almost 20 years ago) Watched my cousin Timmy pull a pair of chaps down from the display on the wall and proceed to do his best John Wayne impression (as Sheriff John T. Chance in Rio Bravo) Mind you, cousin Tim is a serious triathelete and owns an organic coffee company in Hawaii--says a lot about what Padron can do to you

 

-Went to Karaokes at a local bar (quelle horror)
-Sang a duet with my cousin Andy's wife, Meredith. It was 38 Special "Hold on Loosely". My cousins Tim and Zach accompanied us on their 4 ft Didgeridoos. I 'played' my trusty tambourine. Can I say the bar patrons were impressed to say the least!

-Went swimming at the hotel until 4 am playing silent Marco Polo-don’t ask it’s a Spatchmo thing involving lots of underwater flatulence and hand signals

-Got up at 6am to have coffee with my dad, realized that my hand were beyond sore and my hips were covered in bruises from my apparently far too overenthusiastic tambourine playing

-Made bananas foster crepes for 20 for breakfast

 

-Had a whip cream war with my namesake second cousin, she’s 12 and she won

-Drove home but not before getting lost in Yuma trying to find the freeway after I disregarded pop’s directions to stop in at the local Big Lots

Mind you, these are just the salient 'high' points of the trip...