Blog Archives

Oct14

WTF

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Right, so – I waste a shitload of my time finding and reading webcomics. The one I’m working my way through at the moment is Cyanide & Happiness. The website is full of ads, and I’m good at not even noticing ads, so it doesn’t bother me. But this one jumped out at me, and I had to screen capture and share the What The Fuckery:

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The cartoon is about bulimia. I never said I liked politically correct cartoons. But the bulimia topic is a bit ironic when you look at the ad! WTF!!! Would you wear that? Why would you wear that? Where would you wear that?

I’ll give them credit for not going with the overdone fake tan look, though. That gal has one white booty.

“Hmm, I really like thongs, but find that they don’t ride up and chafe my hole nearly enough. But wait, look! I can get one that is part of my shirt, so every time I move I’ll get the extra anal flossing I love and deserve!”

Oct14

I’m feeling visual tonight

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I’m having more fun putting up pics tonight than writing, sorry. I bored myself with the baby oil & dog food post, I think.

So, here’s some more of my digital art. I’m using Brushes for iPad, and it’s all finger painting: you cannot use any other tool but your finger to draw with. Great fun! This is my friend Ineedahome. She lives in Alaska, and the photo I worked from was taken while she was on a moose-hunting trip in the Yukon. When I saw it on FB I had to draw her.

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This gal is awesome! She’s super creative: amongst other things, she does guerrilla knitting, collects and cleans skulls, writes, sews, and loves zombies. I’m forever grateful to have met her in a Florida Wal-Mart and being brave enough to make friends. I’m also happy to live in this digital world where two former Floridians that now live in Irleland and Alaska can talk and share our lives daily. Love ya!

Oct11

I sewed something!

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Namaste, bitches! After literally months of effort, my barstool cover is done. Here’s Spot showing off its warm and cozy butt-feel:

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“Butt-feel”. That’s like mouth-feel. Like gourmands say on those posh cooking shows. See what I did there? Sorry, I know you got the joke. I impress myself too much, sometimes.

Anyhow, I did part of this on my little hand held sewing machine, and then it refused to work for me any more. Sewing machines hate me. The feeling is mutual. So, the rest is hand sewn. Good thing ya can’t see that part!

Oct11

A peek into iDJ’s mind

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Really, this happened.

It was a lovely day half hour outside. I’m in the fabulous Coleman camp chair and iDJ is directly behind me on the garden bench. I’m trying to read, but he’s doing a running commentary on everything. I’m mostly ignoring him. The dog (AKA the queen) is also outside, turning her lovely white feet green on the fresh cut grass. After listening to iDJ talk to no one for a while, I opened a word processing app and started transcribing what he said.

iDJ: “Aw, look at the queen.”

Pause.

iDJ: “Aw, poor Spot. Someone is crying. I know, kitty, we’re all outside!”

Pause.

iDJ: “I love my kitty. He loves me.”

Pause.

iDJ: “Yes, yes. I definitely need an occasional table out here.”

Me: “No, hon. You occasionally need a table out here.”

Then we went inside, because it started to rain again.

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Oct10

I saved 5 lives today, and maybe another

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It’s a red-letter day here in Culchieland! I left the house! I know, what on earth could possibly have happened to make me leave? On foot? In the rain? Hell, it’s Ireland, it’s nearly always raining…

Well, I had to make the trek down to the post office to get my dole. That’s welfare, for my Yank friends. On the way, I:

Met BD who is a manager at the post office, and my sometime Harley-Davidson biking buddy. He was making deliveries, which is not his normal job. We had a short chat and blamed the shortage of staff on the presidential election flyers tying up all the postal workers. He handed me my post – a presidential election flyer.

So, mail in pocket, I continue my walk to the post office… is that ironic? It had rained a LOT overnight so there were little earthworms drying up and dying in the church driveway. I picked up three and tossed them into the grass.

Continuing on my way, I saw a small tortoise-shell coloured kitten running around under the parked cars in front of the grocery store that we don’t patronise. I don’t know why not, we just don’t. I tried to coax her to me, but she was scared and probably feral. I wouldn’t let a young fella in a hurry leave until she moved from under his car to another.

Up to the PO, chat with the clerk – turns out two people are on holiday and one other had a funeral for his mother in law. Aren’t small towns fun? Can you imagine getting to have a chat at the post office instead of a surly government worker? Wheee! And my dole went up €20, why? no clue. I’ll take it, 70 is better than 50 any day. It still is a drop in the debt bucket.

Back out, down to the Paper Shop where my mother in law works. She’s usually only there in the afternoon, but she’s in, and so are the other three ladies that work there. They aren’t all working; mam and B are, and the other two are chatting and bringing coffee and sammiches to the others. Aw. Mam has a cold and can barely talk. They all ask me about my back, and my job hunt. A fella delivering magazines hears me talking about my back, and I get advice and the name of a physio who fixed him ‘in one go.’ A physio is someone who isn’t a doctor, or a chiropractor, but does stuff to people who are hurt, like a sports/physical therapist. This one apparently is the physio for a GAA team in B… okay, I don’t recall the name of the town, but it started with a B and I’d never heard of it. Apparently if I go to B… and ask anyone on the street for so-and-so, they will know him and give me directions. Yes, that is the way things work over here!

Back out for the walk home. Dammit, kitten is still under the cars along the main street. Very dangerous for the wee thing. So I try, and try, to get it to come to me. She talks to me, but runs. I gave up, walked away…then turned back and into the grocery. I went to the deli counter and asked if they had a tiny bit of ham or turkey or chicken, as I was trying to catch a cat. I would have paid for it, but she handed me a bit of ham off the slicer. Thanks, deli lady!

Back outside, the kitten finally gets sick of my attentions and runs off down the alley, past the back road behind the houses & shops on the main street, and into someone’s overgrown garden. I tore up the ham and left it in the grass. At least she was safe from cars, now.

On the way home, I find and save two more worms. I feel like an Annelida hero! Yes, I Googled that. I’m a geek, but not that much of a geek!

In case you were wondering, here’s why worms surface when it rains.

Oct9

Socks, part deux

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***Some of my readers might know who Socks is, from other social media outlets. Please keep any comments about the content of this post ON this blog, and not elsewhere. I have her permission for this post, but we all know this is an anonymous blog for the moment, right? Thanks, y’all!

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So, I’ve been putting this post off since I started the blog. I feel I have to get this out before I can forge ahead and talk about stupid things again.

I think I made it clear that Socks is damn important to me. She’s my inspiration, not only for writing, but for anything creative. She and I had great plans for a mutual project, and I never even started. See, I was journaling, but stopped, and that was part of the project. My blog is my new journal, in a way that seems to work better for me. Therefore, I need to hold up my end of our joint writing enterprise, and talk about babies.

Travel back to January with me. Socks and I are having our weekly blab-a-thon, and the topic of kids comes up. She’s been thinking about them, about actually having one! Well, this is new. We’d decided ages ago that they are too much work. They make a lot of noise. They cost a lot of money and time.

But most of all, they…leak.

Fluids.

And solids.

All the time.

Now, I’m not bothered by this aspect of children. You just deal with it, and hope like hell you have a good washing machine, cuz that sucker will be running daily for years. But Socks? Not so much.

Ever seen one of those funny video shows where someone is lying on the floor (usually dad because men rarely think ahead), holding a baby over their head, bouncing it up and down, and laughing? And then junior pukes rancid, lumpy, half-digested hot milk DIRECTLY into daddy’s mouth?

Right now, somewhere in the world, my BFF barfed up her last meal just from reading that. There is very little chance of her dealing well with this happening in front of her. Even clear baby drool makes her go totally phobic.

So, of course, when she starts talking babies I remind her about the fact that they leak. Because I’m not having kids, for my own non-fluid related but equally valid and well-thought-out reasons, and I sort of don’t want her to turn into Just Another Mom. I’m a selfish bitch, and I don’t want her to change. Because I’m an honest selfish bitch, I tell her this. She agrees, whew! Barf, and the chance of her turning into someone different, someone …. well I hate to say boring, that’s not the best word. Someone that is no longer ‘Socks’ and is just ‘Mom.’

Yes, I KNOW how that sounds. Bear with me. Anyway, crisis averted.

Except… it isn’t. Despite my attempts to hog her whole life, she talks to her hubby about why they decided not to have kids.

Turns out, he thought she didn’t want them, and she thought he didn’t want them. And they both DO want them. Well, now, don’t I feel like a jerk. Game on!

So, not to go into too much detail, plan Team Building was instigated. How cute! Awww, I love these guys.

I was the only other person who knew they were trying to get pregnant. Loads of reasons, mainly due to her wanting to surprise a certain family member with the good news. Because I was the only person not actively involved in Team Building, Socks and I wanted to come up with a creative way to record how we felt during the journey.

As I said earlier, I totally let down the Team. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was in denial, maybe I was too stuck in my own head with my own issues. Maybe from 3,000 miles away, it didn’t feel real. But, I never wrote one word. See ‘selfish bitch’ above.

We still had our weekly teleconference. I heard about each disappointment when Aunt Flo showed up, that dirty old hag. I couldn’t help, but I mentally changed from being a spectator in the stands into someone that wanted to buy pom-poms and lead the cheers from the field. Figuratively. I doubt her hubby would have welcomed me in the bedroom, even if I was in a cheerleader skirt.

Go, Team, Go!!!

Finally, there was a touchdown, a goal, a try, a slam-dunk. They have a positive result! I got a phone call in the early afternoon. Yay! Now, we can make plans! And great plans they were. The timing was perfect for Socks and Co to tell her family in person, which is exactly what she wanted all along. Just a few weeks to wait. So hard to keep the secret!

It didn’t happen that way. They lost the baby. She had to tell her family the sad news, over the phone. Oh, sweetie.

I cannot talk any more about her loss.

I can say that I now am able to talk about the journey I had the privilege to be a part of. And now, I can talk about it here. Because this is not a tale of sadness, this is one of joy, no matter what else happens.

My best girl is pregnant again!

This time, she doesn’t have to wait until Thursdays to talk about it. She’s got a much bigger support network, and I’m happy about that!

My selfish self is happy to finally want, and need, to record my thoughts about my future niece or nephew. Because if I don’t get called Auntie E, I’ll be grumpy.

Hint, hint 🙂