I smell trouble

Joan doesn't feel like blogging anymore. She has taken to her bed with the vapours. So you are stuck with me. By the way, this is just between you a me..what stays in Vegas...you know the drill.


Does anyone here speak "dog?" Barklish?... anyone?


If not, never mind I will just show the hovel I have to live in and the abuse I live with everyday, because of one incident...well okay, maybe two.

I live under a wheel barrow in the back 40., Joan and Gord thought I was too rowdy in the house so they built me a sandbag house with a wheel barrow for a roof. In this picture I was trying to get into my little house with a tiny morsel of food they threw to me from the deck. It was cold and lonely in there at night, I was scared... I didn't mean to make a hole in the water bed when all this started... I swear I was only "nesting"... when one of my very sharp nails caused water to blow forth...at a great rate.

I live in a grapevine bush by day, and in the sandbags at night. They wouldn't let me in the house. Even though they treated me like royal shit.... I barked at everything that moved to keep them safe. That is just the way I roll. I'm loyal even though they treat me like shit.

I have to go to the pond and drink slime water. They took my bowl away. I have to fend for myself. I am becomming a lean dog, a mean dog, hunting on my own. Looking after number one. I eat nothing but ants, and gnaw at broken tree branches, sometimes they throw out carrots for the rabbits, but I got them first. I was so hungry.

Then one morning '"she" came out and complained I was scratching around in my sandbag house wayyyy to loud, she took away the wheel barrow roof so she wouldn't be able to hear the sand blasting on the metal. I was devistated.

Finally I sought refuge in a pyramid they happened to have in the back 40. There were writings all over the walls in a strange language. I, who can only read "dog" could not decipher it. But then I smelled something...underneath the earth. A tomb. I started to dig, because that is what I do the best. I dug and dug, and finally I unearthed bones from a Pharaoh. My first good meal since the incident.


The next morning when Joan came out to look at me disapprovingly, I presented her with one of the bones I had found the night before. Well holy hell, apparently she buried her old favourite dog out there 10 years ago, and now I had dug the sucker up!!! Back to the sand bags.

So, one day, I came back to the patio door and put on my "woe is me face," hoping she would let me back in. " How much "time out" is enough I thought.? All I did was scratch on the water bed and put an iddy biddy hole in it, and flooded the bedroom...that's all...and I was so sorry about unearthing her old dog..but he was tasty.

She never came to the door.............so I just went back down to the back 40. And cried.

Back to being a Bag Lady!

Call you nearest humane society, because I don't have a cell phone, another contention in our relationship. Hey, I never did drugs, never smoked, never bit a mailman I couldn't reach and always try to clean up the snot I leave on the windows with my tongue. And I don't shit in the house....yet.

We are trying to work out a situation whereby I might be let back into the house. Rules, smules, I hates them. Because I know when I see any movement around here I will paste my beak on the nearest window. I will get back in the water bed, and I will scratch at it to make my little homey hole nest and circle it 45 times before I find a comfortable position to lay in, but I really hope I don't see anymore water spouting out of it. I don't want to be a "bag" dog anymore.

If you vote for me, she might let me back in the house. Check the left sidebar I put up when she wasn't looking...I just want to be warm again, I want something good to eat, I want to bark at everyone on the the front street, I want a bus pass, so I can go to the library.....ooop's that might be a stretch.

Yours truly,

Penny Loafer

okay I am so over knock knock jokes

I didn't even understand the last one I made up last night. I knew it didn't make any sense when I left the computer to have supper, and after that I hit publish and went to bed. Fool.

There is a fine line between sanity and spring. I am at that place. Daylight savings time is ripping my ass.

If the forecast is correct, by the weekend we should have a shit load of snow coming our way. Daylight savings time is a whore. You get your hopes up, and then she asks for $200.00 bucks more. If THEY would have just let it be dark at 6:00 PM we would all be okay.... soooo what it's winter and let's deal with it. BUT NO...some asshole in the universe has decided he will tell us when the hell to get up and when to get to bed!

I can't tell how boring it is, when the sun is streaming into my snow laden back yard and deck at 6:00 PM, and it 40 below. Okay maybe 20, but who gives a hairy rats ass, you can't get out there. I want it to be dark RIGHT now, until spring comes. DO YOU HEAR ME! Whoa, too many caps, I might be losing it.

I just took a bite out of doggie cookie I had sitting on my desk, thinking it was one of my snacks...oy ya ...I better cool down. It didn't taste bad, it was a green one. I was always wondering if they tasted like mint...they don't. They taste like ass. I guess that is why my Penny likes them.

Gord, my loving husband is shopping again. You don't want know what he brought home yesterday...you really don't. Every time his business is slow, he goes around to all the stores looking for bargains...and sometimes for stuff we really need. But, this time. He came back with not one but two Stainless Steel Buffet Servers with 3 warming trays. That makes 6 warming trays all together...by my math.

At first when he brought them in I didn't really want to hurt his feelings and tell him...WTF are you doing? I just asked politely... for what occasions might we be using this for? CHRISTMAS...says he. Now when we have Christmas dinner for the family, we can keep it in a warm buffet restaurant style. You don't have to worry about keeping stuff warm. Well, I never do, I just wing it and keep it as hot as possible when you have 20 people over.

Apparently this Christmas he found my barbecued ribs (not my real ribs) were warmish. It was not to the heat level he wanted for him and our guests to experience. BECAUSE everything he eats has to burn the roof of his mouth. So, he bought these gigantic warming trays ...2 of them, that would be able to serve a buffet at a Polish wedding. With extras for the accordion players.

I have been looking at them, I haven't taken them out of the box yet, but maybe when spring finally comes around, I should quit my job, and start a catering business.

You don't know the trouble I've seen. ( sing with me) I can't hear you!!

I think this should be Knock Knock month.. with a twist

I will have to try to get the rock blog star"Fussy" on board with that one, because I'm sort of liking it.

Knock Knock..

Who's there?

Balonie.

Balonie who?

Balonie!... you want to make something out of it.... I just saw the foo fighters on TV.. and they were singing about doing high fives with hand grenades...that hurt my crotch. It really did.

Knock Knock...

Who's there?

Mother Nature

Mother Nature who?

Can't you see me, jackass? I must have lost my powers. For heavens sake!

Knock Knock: Who's there?

I just fucking told you, it's ME, mother nature!!

Knock Knock:

OKAY ALREADY, it's me... Mother Nature, I will make the sun shine, the robins sing, and made sure your tampons don't leak.

I may have been a little rude, excuse me but all that knocking was giving me a migraine. It's been really hard to get the license from Microsoft for my new software, when loaded, will make the sun shine out of your ass.

No need for sun to get those veggies growing. Just Google "sun coming out of my ass"...and you should get to my site and you can download it from there. It's my Mother Nature gift to you. Then all of you whiners will shut up about spring. Just squat down, put a little sunshine in where you want to grow something and make it happen. Gardening is very simple when you have Mother Nature to help you.

Yours ...somewhat truly...
Mother Nature. balonie style

Happy Easter

Well, cleaning the house didn't happen this weekend. I pulled something in my rib cage area and yikes it hurtest. I woke up Thursday morning and went..owwitch..I thought it would pass, but I have a habit of sleeping so soundly I never know which limb has been twisted in the oddest position and never wake up to feel the pain until the dawns early light. God forbid we have a tornado I will never hear it if it happens at night.

So, if by chance you have been holding your breath waiting to see the El Martino Ranch, I would suggest you exhale, because it ain't happening bow diddly.

We are having a small turkayyyy for Easter sup's. I thought I put it in too late, but then I realized I have a convection feature in my oven that does it faster. I just checked it and it looks like the turkey that exploded when they carved it in one of those Chevy Chase Christmas movies. I letting it go. Less leftovers... The remains will be good for making soup. But I wished I could have found a bunny to eat. No luck. I hope you don't take it the wrong way, it was a family tradition and I was the last one on board after Mom made the first one, but I got talked into it and it was really good.

I gotta whole pile of work done this afternoon with my bookwork for income tax. Why oh why do I leave it so long? I should do it every month, but there always seems so much to do. My rib was hurting so much today because yesterday I decided to ignore it and scrub the tub and do general maintenance around here. But tonight it is feeling better, hopefully by tomorrow I can sit properly without putting any pressure on it.

Well time to test out turkey lurky.... one poke and it will evaporate.

I, for one should never have recipe blog, Lord knows I don't even like eating food, I just like looking at recipes and making them, but low and behold saith the Lord.. you are even slacking off on making them! Yes, Lord, my time constraints seem to butt into making an attractive meal, not served on paper plates. And Lord, if you could please try to find a way I could quit my job so I could provide better meals for my husband and dog, I would so like that. Just so you know.

Supper: Just like I thought...I stuck the knife in the turkey... and it went psssst... it was close to collapsement. So really it was no fuss no muss, I just gathered what was left, put it out. threw it on a plate with all the rest of the stuff. But remind me never to do this again. If you are going to do a turkey dinner, you should invite family.. If you only do it for yourselves...it's not the same.

Good Fryday to you all.

You will hate me. But I don't give a hairy rat's ass.

I posted some good Bunny recipes on cooking with balonie and don't give me a hard time about linking or I will pull your pants down.

I spent the Good Fryday getting ready for Income Tax time. Oy. I made an Excel spreadsheet I am so very proud of. I even put in the formula by myself . Go me! I really don't like when people say "Go Me."..so strike that out yourself. ( because one time, and one time only I said I hate strike outs).. I have painted myself into a asshole corner. It's kind of cosy in here, no one bothers you because you are an assanoid. Not a typo.

I entered in a whole years worth of invoices (thousands) in 4 hours. I am very impressed with myself today. So, I just poured myself a half gallon of wine. After all, l I needed to self congratultory myself, because nobody else will. It's my own personal win! I did it, and I will never share the formula with the world, I will take it to my grave.

This weekend be prepared for a movie of my house with my new little camcorder. I want to show you bastards ummm...that was a little hard wasn't it... must be the wine talking... just how hard it is to live in a 4 level split at my age. Tomorrow, I will clean up the K-rap just so's you don't think I don't live in a dumpster. You will get a glimpse of our 1980's recliners and art work, whatever.... I can to make you uncomfortable with. The dog might be licking her ass. Gord might be wiping his...if I can get the shots. heh...

I have been ignoring cooking with balonie...

Do you want to know why? She is a sadistic bitch.

I posted two recipes on her blog, and she deleted both of them. Bitch.

I THOUGHT WE HAD A DEAL....I could post anything I wanted unless it had cilantro in it..bahhhh I don't know why she hates it, but I DID NOT..post a recipe with that in it. It had celery in it you duffess! Celery...Cilantro.. Yes I know they both start with "C" dinkhead, and stop it... I mean it, I spend so much time trying to keep up the other blog and you little witch keep farting around with it.

I've got a good recipe going around in my head...it's called Balonie stew. But I have to find her first before I chop her up and throw her in the pot. And I'm throwing in some cilantro, I want to hear her scream.

I'm an idiot..but you probably knew that

I read a lot of blogs during the week. Sometimes I get a little dyslexic. A lot of people use blogger, typepad, wordpress....whatever. Last month I found some blogs in a place called Dairy Land. (Stop laughing right now.) I thought it was so cool. Dairy Land. The land of butter and cows. I thought all the blogger citizens of "Dairy Land" lived in a huge gated Internet community surrounded by white fences and rolling hills.. with horses grazing and cattle mooing. A picturesque quaint blog site somewhere in Montana or wherever cattle graze in the USA.



When I started reading their blogs I never noticed anything different about them. Yes, they were not in the same format I was used to, but it was kind of hard getting around. Also, their templates were..hmmm a litttttle weird. But they were Dairy bloggers so I figured they had to use the templates Dairy land had to offer. I found some really good blogs in there. Nice people.



Last week, I was reading a blog, and the person said she was so happy to have a place like Dairy Land (I was still reading it that way) ..to be able to write a personal Diary. Ooops..the lights came on...Dairy, Diary....OMG. for shit's sake it was THEIR FRICKING DIARY. No cows, no nothing and they don't live in a gated white fenced cow infested Internet community!


It' sort of like ...when.. for years... you have been singing the wrong words to a song.


So, to all the people in Diary Land I have commented on...I apologize.. I really thought ya'll lived on the farm.


I feel so jaded now, I can't look at your posts the same way. You aren't living on the ranch land country I thought you were, mind you I have only read a few of your blogs. So perhaps I only have egg on one side of my face.

But let's face it, I will miss Dairy Land. It just seemed so safe.

I just re-read my post from yesterday

That was a hard read. I went on way too much about nothing. Only because nothing happens in my nothing life.

Hopefully someone will try to break into our house tonite and try to murder us, and fail.

Then, tomorrow I will be able to regale a good tale.

I'm leaving the doors open tonite.

From Dell Hell and Back

My desktop has been so "slow" for over a year, and last week after a Norton Update, we went to "barely breathing." I have been using my laptop for most things, but that was getting old, because I like to sit in my office in front to that big screen I got for Christmas.



I was in Dell hell. I knew I was short of memory, but was in denial. WHAT!!... you need more that 256 Mg's. of ram? ... yeah maybe ten years ago asshole. I bought this one 2-3 years ago, but of course I cheaped out and didn't factor in what is needed to keep these guys fed. Yesterday I went to the little Mom and Pop computer shop in a strip mall down the street, and demanded they feed my Dell a gig of ram. Poor baby, she must have been so hungry, she gulped it down so fast, I had to burp her after that. Anyway.



I had to laugh at the older guy (Pop) who powered her up before she was rammed. He kept on clicking the mouse, and I told him to STOP it, because we would be here all fricking day because it was slow, and the more mouse clicking you do, the longer if takes "old man." So he backed off. Just then two ladies walked into the store, and wouldn't you know it, it was his cousin and her friend. They got to talking and he totally forgot about me. I was watching the progress, and had to remind him that I thought we were finally there. He didn't hear me, I didn't notice the hearing aids in his ears, so I just stood there and listened to them talking about his son's wedding plans in PEI. For those that are hard of hearing it's rough to hear if more than two people are talking at once. So, I coughed really loud... and he heard me and his attention reverted back to my computer. So he powered it back down, and got the stick of ram to put in. Now, powering down takes as long as powering up.......another 30 minutes. So, I got to hear about his whole family, and the cousin actually got me to join in the conversation...and I was like like family. BUT, my eye was on the computer, and old Pop, kept on walking in front of the screen while talking to the cousin... and then backed off ... then in front of it again...then backed off, I felt like a bobble head. So when I knew it was powered down ( I was twitching by this time). I coughed VERY loudly. A loud raspy cough that hearing aids could pick up on. Nothing. He was still walking up and down in front of the screen, so I knew he hadn't heard it.



They were having a family reunion and the cousin was trying to get invited to his son's wedding. He kept on saying it was going to be a small wedding, not wanting to hurt her feelings I think.. and lordyloveaduck by this time I was almost pissing my pants. Finally, I coughed again, but this time I lurched forward, so if he couldn't hear me, he could at least see I was moving. I got his attention. Oh, says he, I guess it's time to put the ram in and see if that makes a difference. It took him two seconds to do that. He powered it back up. And he continued to talk to his cousin and her friend.



I could see the screen, it was in DOS mode asking you to press F1 or something like that to recognize the new ram. He was still talking to the cousins. I finally interrupted him (because my voice was raspy from clearing and coughing) and said you have to press F1 before installation. Fuck this by now. Gee whiz....just give ME that stick of ram and I'll shove it up where the sun don't shine. He pressed F1. And rebooted to see if this would make a difference.



Then he went back to talking to his cousin and her fucking friend. I'm telling you, if my blood pressure wasn't up to 300/250 by this time it would be a miracle. And my throat was raw from coughing for the "hard of hearing."



I stayed the course. I was watching the screen, when I could see it, because he was still moving back and forth talking to the cousin and her fucking friend... it booted up magically within a few minutes with all my stuff on it. So, I knew "I" had taken the right course of action.



The cousin was telling him over and over again that he should retire, but he kept on saying he likes to help his son, who actually runs the shop.



Really, he was a lovely man. But I got caught up in some family dynamics. In fact, that is the way things used to be done in the old days, but these days you just don't expect that in a computer shop. I was the high strung computer junkie...he was calm. I am probably only 5 years younger than him.



I will bring my computer in there again if I need to. He only charged me 70 dollars for the gig stick and the installation.



And no, nobody asked me to the wedding.



My computer now has a new life of it's own. I can't believe I waited so long to do that.

My take on things you didn't know and don't really care about.

If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.

Joan the drone: I'm thinking.. it would be worth it if you yelled 8 years, 7 months and 4 days, but the six days of yelling would have pissed me off and I would have put it in the micowave. Ohh..you are talking about sound energy...okay then. I would have sang a very loud song as I was nuking it. Some Nabob Heybob song. I may have lost sight of what was in question.


If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.

Joan the Drone: If, I ...let's say actually farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months. which I probably do like everyone else. I think we might need to save it all up in a tank and send it to the Canadian Government Military Forces. I hope the USA doesn't get "wind" of this..because this could get us on the map.

The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.

Joan the Drone: I'm thinking they are talking about kids that are about 20 years old. At my age, when my blood pressure goes up, my psi levels would be high enough to sandblast a pyramid . Those kids don't have anything on me..wimps!


A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.

Joan the Drone: Finally something I can relate to. Yes, this can be debilitating if you have stuff to do like housework after the fact ..but you know what.. I personally like to go back to the trough and vibrate while I'm eating my "slop." It's a sensory experience. Man pig likes to watch.


Beating your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour.

Joan the Drone: I beg to differ. If you beat it hard enough, you will loose your senses, and go to the fridge, and drink whipping cream. Stupid is all I can say.


The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the Male's head off.

Joan the Drone: Sometimes when Gord pisses me off I will say, I just want to rip your head off, which really means...hey I just want to "get it on." Then the beheading begins.


The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.

Joan the Drone: Heh, fleas have nothing on me. I can jump 450 and fifty times my body length. After the dream, I wake up in the morning with leg cramps.



The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.

Joan the Drone: Well hell, yeah. I used to bait my hooks with worms, and 26,000 other ways to catch the buggers and they all took the bait. Let's just say Cat Fish are not fussy. They are bottom feeders, they will eat thier own shit. But they are mighty tasty for bottom feeder, shit eating fish. And good fighters if you are a fisher woman.


Butterflies taste with their feet.

Joan the Drone: Awww that is too cute. That is why when they land in a pile of dog shit they sit for a second and hurl, before butterflying away.



The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.

Joan the Drone: Yes, it is.....and it works too well. Sometimes we say shit we shouldn't.

Once again... I did.

Happy Trails to you... until we meet again.

Joan


Roy Rogers illegitimate daughter.

I miss Trigger.

I know it's pink and cute in here

But I'm still your ole crusty the clown. Don't get too comfortable. Pink stinks. And so do I.

It was so warm today, I almost got killed by a huge snowbank on the top of our roof at work. In front of our shop we have a V shaped little sub roof just above our door. I was not aware it might be lethal. Around 10:00 AM I heard a thump and saw some snow fall down at the front door. ..never gave it a thought. I went out a little later for a smoke...came back in, and I guess after the door shut an avalanche of snow toppled off the roof! Right where I was standing. It would have broke my neck. It was so heavy and water laden it would have crushed my noggin.
Oy.. it was fate I say! Then I went out with a big rake and tried to get the rest of it down but the handle of the rake got crazy, and hit my face when it sort of got out of control. No worries, I have many faces, I will just delete that one.


I had a very unusual experience coming home from work. I went to Safeway to pick up a few groceries and then took my normal shortcut back home. This route takes me down a narrow street to a stop sign, and then go down the back lane of an condo complex to the main road back home. It's just a shortcut, so I don't have to go back through the busy road home.


I was just coming up to the stop sign on the narrow road I was talking about, and there was a little black car sitting there. I waited, and waited and the little car was not going anywhere. So, I thought perhaps they had a problem, and pulled along side of the car to get passed it, so I could move on. As I did this I looked over to the car, and saw a young kid at the wheel, and a woman who was shaking her fists. I thought..OMG she is beating on this kid! I stopped. When I stopped, she got out of the passenger seat, and yelled "you G.D. fucking bitch" ...we have the right of way. Huh.....I opened my passenger side window and said "you guys were parked." Oh holy hell, that set her off..she called me every name in the book and some. She went ballistic and yelled .MOVE right now. MOVE BITCH. I moved. I saw the fear on the kid's face who was driving. He couldn't have been more than 16 and here was his mom making a big scene. She may have been giving him instructions on how to start and stop, and I came upon the lesson without knowing who was at the wheel. They followed me down the lane and then down to the main street, going to my house. But he was driving very slowly, so I could tell he was not a seasoned driver. I was afraid, she would take over and try to kick my ass. I drove home really fast.

Why would a woman do that to her kid? Now we will just have another "road raged warrior" out there. What a shame. She just taught him that is was okay to to lam blast another driver even if you are at fault. Poor, poor kid. I felt so sorry for him. He looked so scared.

I wanted in the worst way to get in her face.! But, I took the poor kid in consideration and moved on. I called her names all the way home...the vision of poor little pimply kid that was learning to drive kept on creeping up on me; and I felt so bad for him. He didn't deserve this. I saw him following me very slowly as I was going home, and then they turned off.

She was just a MotherF*er. I wonder what else she had done to her son. It just breaks my heart.

I have been subject to road rage maybe two or three times, and it is scary. Usually it's guy's in half ton trucks. It's something about these Manitoba rednecks that think you have to beat every red light. And if you don't, they come swerving in front of you ..showing off their balls... and let you know you pissed them off. Well, it's always nice to see them at the next red light as you pull up beside these bastards.


Ya know...how sad it that.

Spring boiiiinnng boiiinnng (jumping sounds) Pink I stink

I'm springing it up. "Spring up..."Fall down". Change yer clocks. You know the drill. Never has there been a longer winter than this year. Daylight savings time abounds. Time to get out the kitchen chair, move it across the room, climb up with the good leg , and try to reach the kitchen clock, which is much higher than is normal. I don't why I just didn't just attach it to the ceiling. And it was kinda crusty. Cleaning clocks is something I never think of doing, unless you are tailgating me with your V12 SUV..then I jump into Clock Cleaning Mode. Back to taking the clock off the wall..near the ceiling fortheloveofgod. I changed the time on the clock and tried to put it back on the little teeny tiny nail on the wall. The nail ..who also has no use for daylight savings time, retracted into the drywall. He was getting a little tired of all the fuss every year. So, I'm still up on the chair. Now I have to dig the nail out of the drywall and make sure it comes out enough to accomdate the stinking clock..who was being a bitch. I looked at the back of the clock, blew out some cob webs..which went right into my glasses..thankyou!! Anyway I eyeballed the little"U" in the back of the clock...and made my way past the top of micowave and hit it dead on the nail...Houston...we have a lift off!!

I changed the time on my watch, and my stove timer, but as of this writing I have not changed the alarm clock in the bedroom. If you must know why, I am afraid. I have a system. I always have my alarm clock set a half hour ahead of the time I get up. Yeah, I know. But I need this time to stretch out, pick my nose, snuggle back in while the snooze button keeps beeping at 15 minute intervals. I always know I have this 30 minute timeline to get my shit together. I always process the time and lay there and think...ohh I have 30 minutes..now I have 20, now I have...opps it over time.

Now, in the mornings to come, I will have no rest. I will be calculating my half hour, and the what if's of daylight savings time... What time would it really be? Are we ahead an hour...or are we behind? My thinking is muddled in the early light. I will change my clock, but I know I will be thinking ..what time IS IT REALLY? Mind games.

Do we really have to see the snow for an hour longer than usual. I think not. I love it when the sun goes down, I don't have to look at it anymore. Said my piece.

Sunday night supper: Holopshi aka. cabbage rolls. I overfilled my little roaster and now I smell it leaking out the sides. Smells like home.

I am still trying to figure out my new camera. I took a lot of video over the weekend and put it up in Vimeo and U Tube, but my computer is running on Ram empty and it always cuts out before I can get it downloaded. I'm taking the desktop to a neighbourhood shop to get at least a gig stick put in. I'm so sick and tired of waiting....and waiting for any response from this sucker. But ladies and gentlemen, that is what you get for buying a Dell computer for $350.00 three years ago with 256 memory. That is unheard of say you computer ..ahh...people!! Well folkies that's my life. We could be out of jobs, sick, no place to live WHY do you think you need more than ..whatever it is...256mgs?

Time to get supper on the table.

yummers..holopshi

..there will be cabbage farting happening near dawn. But, I will be awake anyway calculating how many more minutes of sleep I have before I get up.

Hell..ohhh

It's very quite around here in It's Always Something Land.

Did I fart? ... and cyberspace passed it on to you? I thought I put in capable hands.

Have I not been entertaining enough? No..would be the right answer. But, I'm dang sure it's those pencils on my template that have been running you off. So, tomorrow I will take this matter up with balonie, and get to the bottom of this. I have a meeting set with her in the "bored" room at 9:32 AM sharp. Either we continue, or we pack 'er in. One of us is running on empty. And I think it is me. I always have had such great plans to post pictures, etc. but in reality I only have a 1/2 hr. time line in the evening to do this. By the time I am finished(shopping) preparing supper after I get home from work, plus cleaning, making beds, playing with the dog it's 7:00 PM. On weekdays Gord gets home from work at 7:00 - 30 PM and by the time we eat and everything is cleaned up it's 8:00PM. So, I use between 7:00 and 7:30 to blog. I don't feel like doing it after supper, I'm tired and still have more shit to do. Plus I like to watch a little TV. Not much. But a little. And go to bed. On weekends I don't give a shit when we eat. We play it by ear.

I need a break. I guess that is what the dead of winter does to you. On weekdays I used that 1/2 hour very well, but now it seems like such a chore. I guess because it's still one hundred fricking below, the wind is howling and there is no spring in sight. My deck is full of dogshit, because it's too cold for Penny to go down the stairs outside. She seems to have a lame leg and I don't want her hopping up and down the stairs from this HOUSE THAT HAS THE STAIRCASES FROM HELL.

And I can't get my new video camera to work, I want more wine, my bra is too big (f*k) don't loose weight the "girls" go first, my left eye keeps twitching, I want more wine. I can't wait to get back on the deck, sans the dog shit and piss, and sit at my patio table in the warm summer sun and post a blog on my laptop. Winter is a waste of life. On the other side, if I would actually get off my ass, and go outside in the deep dark cold and partake of skiing, skating and hurt myself, then I would be very afraid of Virgina Wolf. Huh? I don't know where that came from..doesn't make any sense. That, my dear friends is what winter does to people like me, who always have their heads about them, and loose them. Not my fault. It's the template. Get ready, get set.. I'm making a change. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I'm changing my template

I need to kick it up a notch. Those pencils are starting to bug me.


I could kick up the content, (but of course...) grrrrrrrrrr.....but I'm all about the way it looks. I'm a shallow fallow, fellow, mellow, yellowbellied cat fish. gawwd it's getting b.a.d.


I'm going to start making shit up. Because winter is giving me the winter brain drain shits...it just drips out like diarrea... a little at a time and you can't take the big one and just get it out.


So, to alleviate my pain I bought a camera today. A digital camcorder/camera. It was on for half price and of course the pictures it takes may well be half assed. Let's see after I get the battery charged. It's just something new to learn. Yes boys and girls, more toys, but I love my toys.



Just a bitch: Daylight savings time is starting next Sunday. Fuff.. Who needs more daylight when it 40 fucking below. I just want to wallow in the dark when I come home from work.

.............drifting into the black hole.

If I can get the camera going tomorrow...I will take a picture of my hole.

I'm getting too lazy

Or I have way to much other shit to do. My posting have been sporatic to say the least, but tearfully I say to you, nothing of interest has happened in my life. And that is a good thing. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop...know what I mean jellybean? Go have a look on my recipe site (on my sidebar) for some good fries...even tho they are oven baked I think they will be good. I was going to try them out tonight, but I had a shit pile of bookwork to do when I got home, so I made rice instead. I will try it out this weekend for AA hour and let's see if they like it.

I guesstimate is two more weeks before the thaw starts. I cannot wait. I wish someone would come over here and take a hammer to my head, when I used to say I loved winter. That stupid assine remark haunts me. I love it for a day...no maybe 4 days, then it can kiss my hairy rats ass.

I am too blonde. It happens. You probably thought you could never be blonde enough, well I'm here to tell you my hair looks like an old lady whose head got pushed down a well of peroxide. "Nice and Easy"....so they say. My first clue should have been that my "haid" was burning when I applied it. Yeah, like it was on fire. But gradually it simmered down, and I left it on for the required time for those who natural colour is ..fucking grey. My hair isn't really "grey" ... or is that gray? Gray seems so final. Anyway my hair has turned sort of white lately, and all I wanted was a "honey" colour. But, that didn't happen. I bought the wrong colour. I'm freaking "ho" blond. This weekend I will get another one to tone it down. God, you can see me in the dark!! It's not becoming. Men are not coming on to me on the streets loving my look. Some are running and putting on their sunglasses, because my hair is brighter than the god given sun. I swear. I thought men loved blonde's, but I guess I took it one step too far. Yeah... I always push the envelope. I hope it doesn't fall out..oy

Sundae

Without a cherry on top.

Laundry, shovelling snow, preparing salads for next week, bookkeeping, making wine, preparing supper ..Lasagna and salad. Plus slicing strawberries for dessert. Which takes more time than I am prepared to put into a meal. I have done more slicing, dicing, ricing and rock and rolling around this joint today than I care to mention. Oh yeah, I had to go to the store and pick up some green peppers which I had forgot to buy yesterday. THAT, almost threw my whole schedule down the shitter. For some reason my spin cycle was off kilter, and my clothes were wet after the cycle was finished, so I had re-do the bastards on the spin cycle again. Don't tell me I had an uneven load, or I will shoot you. My washer and I have a personal vendetta, and on Sundae's he just wants to do the cha cha.. and I let him go for it. He is evil. One of these days he is going to take the hoses right off the back of the machine and create the "flood of the century." Good! I have insurance. So fuck him. My dryer was moaning and groaning last weekend. It sounded like something was getting it on big time down there. It sounded like a submarine alarm ..ahhhhwhhooohaaa! So, Gord finally fixed that, so now I don't have to kill it.



Did I put you to sleep yet? Well just keep on reading.



I want to go the Bahama's... I really do. I need to get the hell out of here.

My Penny has been having a few leg or back problems of late. I am concerned. She has short legs, and a long back...and with her exuberance chasing down anything that moves outside or inside our stair filled house from either the windows or being outside is of concern. I have been confining her to the upper level, where we actually live with a gate to she can't get run down to the living room, where her she can try to bite the mailman, or anything that moves on the street. Last Sunday I went down to play with her in the backyard, because I thought she was doing so much better, but she just went crazy, wanting to play, and twisting around with happiness, and falling into huge snowdrifts in the back 40. Needless to say, she was a wreck later on in the evening.

So, I am the ever watchful bad guy in her books. NO can be heard resonating through out our palace. No, jumping!...No running! No..sitting pretty..No fricking nothing.. She is sitting on my lazy boy chair with a "what the fuck did I do look." Apparently, none of this hurts her, but I know she isn't up to snuff. God forbid I should have had children, I would have tried to move into their homes, made better food choices for them and their children, and totally made my fears theirs. Unfortunately, I have no one to tell me to back the off. Poor Penny. Make that poor Gordon as well. I can't stop myself from trying to help those that I love. And I always go totally overboard. Last Sunday Gordon took two of his pills in the evingin instead of one. Well, I went ballistic and phoned Poison Control. I made him so worried for nothing. Shit.. They told ME to take a pill, as it wouldn't hurt him at all. Dumbbbbbasss. I got him all worried and concerned and it was only my fears that made him that way.

What is wrong with me? I can't relax for a minute. I think every little concern belongs to me. I own it. It's mine to bear. I watch for any change with Gord or the dog...then manifest it my mind and make myself nuts. Last Thursday, Gord was leaving after lunch and was standing in the hall getting his parka and boots on, and then I noticed he was wasn't making any noises, and immediately I shout out from the kitchen..."what are you doing?" He said, can't I stand still for more than a minute when you aren't asking me ..what am I doing? I was just adjusting my tie (from his uniform) because it got messed up. Things like that make me so embarrassed, I have to step back. I have to. Being the gate keeper is a job with no rewards and only stress. I tell myself that all the time, then I think....what if something happened and I didn't pick up on it and could have changed the outcome I would never forgive myself. It's a no win situation. But I have to because the way I am doing things right now has got to change. And it is totally my fault. Gord and Penny are getting really tired of me mothering them around. I need to set them free. And close my eyes. Right now, they are in Joan Jail.

I want to go the Bahamas. Right the hell now!...checking my Air Miles.