I'm the devil in blue jeans..yes I am!

This new template is making me feel a little "how you say"... horny... no, not horny, but horny without the horn, sort of like a "bad assed Christian." Right now I'd like to smell a Hell's Angel, drive without my seat belt buckled, smoke in a public place, or get a tattoo.

Hey, I'm rocking. Spring is finally in the air, and I can't imagine all the shit I will get into if I keep feeling my oats like this. I might even pose for a picture on Gord's bike and pretend I actually went for a ride on it. I might take a Valium...if I could get my hands on one if I had to really ride with him. I think I will ask him to take me for a short ride this year, down to the end of the cul de sac and back. If I don't start to hyperventilate, he can turn around and we can go through the back lane of the other Bay and come back down our street. If I'm still good, he can actually go down Chancellor which is the the main road that leads to the rest of the city. If I don't make the trek where Chancellor hits the busy roads, I will ask him to stop at a bar just before we make that turn. I like the thought of he and I parking the bike in front of a bar and looking really tough, and going in for a brewski. Can you hear the chains rattling? Can you feel the danger in the air? He, with his fancy dancy leathers, and me with an ole hoody sweat shirt and pants and wearing an old helmet he found in the garbage from WW2. Yeah...I'm a pretty thang!!

When we go into the bar, I imagine, I will take my WW2 helmet off and suddenly look dangerous just like him in his gay leathers. After all, I am covered in food stains and dog hair, that should account for something. Ya think?

We sit down. The bar keep comes over and...says "what can I get you folks,"....and Gord decks the bastard...and says..we aren't folks, we are "bikers" and we deserve some respect. The bar keep gets up and says ...."yes sir"....what ever you want...it's on the house. Then we drink a lot of beer, fart on our way out and drive back home...which is only two blocks. I love living on the edge.

I'm thinking my neighbours will be looking at me with much more respect this year, when they realise I am a little more dangerous than they thought I was. (hide your children.) on Peacock Place.

Okay EARTH or whoever you are...

Apparently my footprints are too bloody big....so sorry, but I have big feet. Short of chopping off my toes, I don't know howinthehell I will manage to shorten them.

Yeah, I have been thinking about chopping off my feet ... just a bit. The media just doesn't give up on this crap, and puts that teenie tiny little bug in your ear. So, last week I tried to shop "go green." Stop laughing!!!

Day one:
I went to Safeway and bought 4 new cloth bags. I told the clerk to put my groceries in the new bags. The poor clerk, had to deal with these flabby bags on the counter and struggled putting all the groceries in them. Normally, the regular bags are at a lower level and they don't have to reach up and plunk them in your new and improved environmentally challenged bag. She used two of the four bags I bought, and rang me through. Okay, whatthehell!! The handles on these bags were way way too long, I drug my groceries to my truck through all the filth that still resides on our streets from winter. I thought I could just tuck them up in the crook of my arm, but they still reached the ground. Perhaps, that is what should be happening, I don't know, do they want our grocery bags to actually touch the environment.

.. My footprint was getting a little pissed off.

Day Two: (yes I shop everyday, I never know what I want to make for supper.) I thought I would park as far away from the store as possible to minimize excess use of valuable fossil fuels and maximize the possibility of buying a donut when I was in the store. The donut won.

I hit the isles, and remembered that I was supposed to try to buy locally grown products. Wellhell!! It's still winter...I checked, and yes they had ice for sale, but discovered it was imported. Consider the irony.

Plus that shit melts the minute you put it in the frying pan. Empty calories is something I can't stand.

I was hungry for chicken; but I could not find a birth certificate on any of them. It was like God, made them in heaven, killed them, plucked them, washed them down, put them in shrink wrap and a Styrofoam tray....and magically they found their way to Safeway.. Hey, that was good enough for me....I didn't have to worry about my "footprints" getting any bigger. God brought them to me.

Now, all I was missing was some veggies and potatoes. I did find some carrots that were produced in Manitoba (last fucking year.) If you don't mind the taste of musty carrots that are as big as a cat, these are the one's for you. I passed. Apparently we have the same problem with potatoes, last fall was a long time ago, and they don't even exist anymore. Also, I needed dog food. Nothing! My footprint was about to kick some one's ass!!! So I took the chicken that God made, and went to the checkout.

I get into the lineup and note all the people ahead of me are still using plastic bags.

I feel smug.

Then I realize I have left all my cloth bags in the truck!!!

Well, hells bells.. I told the cashier to just give me the fucking chicken, and I will carry it out without a bag. She told me, it has to leave the store in a bag of some sort...because of some rules, blahhhhh..blahh. Okay, said I, if you put it in a plastic bag, I want you to sign a document that says ...your footprint is on this chicken bag..not mine. She said, "no prob"...do you want it double bagged.? heh I love her.

I feel smug.

I got home, and took the chicken out of the plastic bag, and promised myself I will use my cloth bags from this day forth. I took the plastic bag, went outside on the deck and set it free, and it landed on one of our neighbours trees... and stuck in the branches. And I felt smug.

Something tells me I don't quite get this shit.

I have 4 almost brand new earth friendly bags with humongous handles on them for anyone who wants them. I call them "drag and drop"....bags.




The ugly back "40"...what a fricking mess.


Penny, loving some sunshine.

Nothing better than seeing ice coming out of your eaves... its cold out here baby.

Who does not want to kiss this face? Bad breath and all. My penny loafer. You can see how much she loves her mom with those I love you eyes.

My soul..............it greaves for summer

We had some snow and ice today, now ain't that a fucking way to greet spring Mother Unnatural? What happened to your "all springy" crappola. I had to wear my parka to work today muttah, and let's not forget the face plant I did in front of the door at work today. You put it there, now clean up your mess. Our first aid kit came in handy after I knocked my noggin into a glass window. One more trick, and you will be kissing my ass. Do you have cold lips?...if so don't bother because I have people who I am more pissed off than you, that have warm lips. So lets call the whole thing off.

This spring I have finally started to walk like a normal person, heads up, not looking down for icy patches. My gait was strong and assertive, instead of looking like a dog looking for a place to take a shit. Now, I'm looking back down again, at the dirty streets, filled with cigarette butts, the occasional old lotto 649 ticket someone threw away, (which I put in my purse just in case it was a winner and they lost it,) A penny! I guess someone thought they were to rich to keep it, a soggy old grocery list with the ink all smeared....and on top of the list was Tampax ..I hope she got there on time...a bill of lading from one our suppliers I had been looking for since last fall....faded yet legible, now I can get off their ass, because we didn't know if we received the goods....Yes spring is coming, slow, and ugly.

I was kinda worried yesterday with the ice and all. The trees make a very weird sound when they are coated with ice. My truck was covered in ice yesterday when I went to work, and after I had gone a few km's the engine warmed up and holy moly .....ice started flying into my windshield from the hood of the truck. Fuck...I ducked!! It was funny how your instincts take hold.

Hopefully, by Monday all this shit will be over. I will be able to walk without looking at the ground and wondering if the next "face plant" will put me in the ER. Or with our Lord, I'm not ready for him to take me just yet. I got shit to do, and people to piss off.

I was laughing at myself a teenie little bit today, when I remembered I bought my dad some kind of device to put under your shoes when you were walking so you don't slip on ice...because he was so frigging old and loved to walk every day. Well, I think he was my age right now when I gave them to him.......he never wore them, and looked at me like I was a "tool." The same way I look at anyone who tells me what is "good for me."

It's getting better

Not only is the pressure of tax time off my weary head, Gord has meeting tonight and won't be home till ten. I don't have to make supper, I don't have to do sweet shit all. I got the place to myself. I took Penny for a run and for tonight my job is done.

I bought two deep fried breaded chicken pieces at Safeway, and a small container of macaroni and cheese for my supper..halleluya...grease at last...grease at last. I still have some peas and carrots left over from last night, so I am going to pig right out. But, I don't think I will eat the breaded skin of the chicken, I will just squeeze the grease on my body so I can smell it the whole night long. Sometimes a girl needs a little oiling up.

We are in the midst of getting quotes for someone to paint our house and do the necessary repairs around here.....and there are a lot of them. Two weeks ago, Gord went to the Home Show, and met a kindly gentleman from Home Depot and told him what we needed to be done in our home before we sell it next year. Gord liked him and thought he might be the guy we needed + Home Depot is a trusted name. The guy called on Monday and Gord set up a date on Tuesday for the evaluation of the costs.

Now, I have to tell you, we want the whole house painted - 4 levels including ceilings, plus some work in the rec room where we had to remove a small wall when we had water coming in last spring. We needed two fachia boards on the outside of the house to be replaced and one window sill..plus painting of our small deck and the fence. $15,000.00 dollars was the quote.

15 grand!!!

Gord almost shat his pants. And so did the estimator, but it wasn't IN his pants, apparently he stepped in some doggie do do outside..heh...

As they were coming back into the house, Gord said the guy was getting a little more aggressive about what needed to be done...blah...blah... They sat on the deck and went over the numbers etc. and Gord told him he would think about it. The guy got all huffy and shit and said, his numbers were in range with anyone else's, and wanted Gord to sign on the dotted line. Gord told him we are doing estimates only right now, and not signing on any dotted lines. He turned into Mr. Grumpy...and before Gord led him back through the house he asked him to take off his dog shit laden shoes and cleaned them up for him. He left in a huff.. bastard.

Later on, Gord and I read the contract he wanted us to sign.....he didn't have anything to do at all with Home Depot. Other than being a private contractor that PROMISED to use Home Depot products when doing the painting and the small reno projects.

For that price, I could take off work for 3 months and paint till the cows come home. The carpentry is so minimal we could probably do it ourselves....but WE are not good at wood and saws and shit. If we need anything fixed around here, like cars, motorcycles, lawnmowers, anything that has a motor Gord is your man. But broken wood, makes him cry.

So, we will be getting more estimates. But I have the feeling I will be doing it myself, like I did it the last time, except for the ceilings, I don't think I can do that. Cathedral ceiling are like "high." I might have to get a pair of stilts. Remember in "Friends" when Phoebe found out her dead beat dad liked to walk in stilts....sorry I still find that episode funny.

Okay ....I got two pieces of greasy chicken with my name on them....plus cheeeeeessy macaroni ... and I can watch American Idol with no conflict. It's heaven.

It's all done

Now that we got that shit out of the way, I get to have a few minutes to myself. Until next year. I have to get a cleaning lady in here, I can't go on like this much longer. I don't have.one.fucking.minute.to.myself...none. I'm getting crazy. Dust bunny's abound, mirrors are coated and dull, floors are dirty, how did I ever have time to blog in the olden days. heh. Time is a bitch and takes a toll.

Gord made out like a bandit. All the hard work doing his books paid off. We still have to pay, but not as much as we anticipated. It was worth the weekends I put into it.


I'm getting back a hundred bucks from my income tax....ohhhh what should I buy? Such a windfall!



Wish List:

1. A cleaning lady. Preferably and old Mennonite lady who has serious cleaning issues...maybe not...that would be me, I have serious cleaning issues, I hate THEM. I need someone who will do the cleaning for $100.00 bucks for the whole year. That's all I have people. My windfall.



2. OR... I could put the hundred bucks in the bank to cover the costs of Penny's vet bill...but it wouldn't cover it, so fuck that.



3. OR... I could take it to the Casino and double it up. But, no, I am Casino challenged I don't know a spade from a rototiller. I dig them both, I wouldn't know which to choose. Don't tell me a pack of cards doesn't have a rototiller card? I'll be damned. No wonder I loose all the time.



4. I came up with the one thing I really want. I will donate it to the Humane Society. I won't miss it, and some little critter will benefit from my donation. And it won't be all about me. But from me. I loves me some critters.



So, just to catch up with youse guys, I have been buying new clothes since my weight loss. Yep. Gone are my old hoodies and jeans, replaced by classy clothes from Giant Tiger. What? you haven't heard of Giant Tiger? The sell clothes to people who only have a limited income, and still want to look good. Well hell, yes...I am still wearing hoodies and jeans, but they are from this century. And they are cheap. Like me. I can never buy anything expensive because who knows when I will start putting on the pounds again. Then they all go back to Value Village and the process starts all over again. I have done this 4 times in my long life....and it's pissing me off.



Gord finally sat me down last week and said, buy some GOOD clothes, not the cheap crap. You deserve to have clothes that you feel good in. I hummed and hawwed and said...well ..okay and before he could say "is supper ready"... I was in my car speeding to the mall.



I have to say, I was never reallllly fat each time I gained weight, I probably weighed about 165-70 lbs., but it's all about body image anyway. I feel really good now. I do. I can layer my clothes, and wear a T shirt underneath my jacket or shirt without feeling like a whale. I have started to wear make up again!!... I am re-piercing my ears this weekend...the old holes dried up. And... I see a tattoo in the near future....right smack dab in ... well I will let you know when I find a place that doesn't have old lady liver spots on it. kidding...I still have a few sweet spots:)

Wanna see? Damn that camera the batteries are always dead..yeah .... Joan you stinking liar.



Well, I have certainly have talked my head off tonite. More to come if I finally have time to use my new camcorder I bought a month ago. I have so many new interests going on.... did I tell you I bought two new pairs of shoes, and one of them had "heels." Be ready for a "Face Plant" blog, I am sure I will fall and hurt myself. But when I bought them I felt so tall!! I was walking around with them on in the store, and looking down at all the short peeps. I felt like the Jolly Green Giant....and fortheloveof"nike"...if I didn't step on some kids sneaker, and his foot was still in it. He was sitting with his mom while she was trying on some shoes. He didn't cry, but I felt bad.



Okay...I've gone on long enough...but I have so much to write in the weeks to come. Finally -

I am still here.

It's income tax time crunch...and I'm still trying to find Revenue Canada's asshole...so I can gently shove my return up it's ass. I have been working on this crap for weeks on end. I'm done. Maybe I will have time to do a blog worth reading....stay tuned. I will be working late tonight.

Yours truly,
A unruly tax payer

I'm making soup

I was in a "soup making mood" today. I threw everything in it except the kitchen sink. So gone, are Gordon, Penny, my sofa, our Archie Bunker recliners, and lets not forget my old wall hanging from the 80's. I had to get a bigger pot after I shoved Gord in there...man his legs just wouldn't fit in the pot. I took off his ugly old housecoat off him first because I didn't want the stank of old housecoat in my soup. Other than that, it smells pretty good. So, I'm pretty sure nobody wants this recipe, so I won't be posting it to my recipe site. I can post it here because I don't give a hairy rats ass who reads this drivel.

1 - ole man
1 - ole dog
1- ole sofa
2 - ole Archie Bunker recliners...that have been farted on ... a lot.
1 - ole wall hanging.....with swirly bits of orange, brown and beige and dust.
3- Slices of smoked ham- cubed about 1/4" inch each..depending on what you can get in your area.
1/2 - cup chicken broth
2 - cups water
1 - can of mixed beans
1 - can of diced tomatoes, the smaller one
1 - onion diced
2 - sticks of celery
2 - potatoes cubed
5- carrots sliced
1/2 - cup frozen peas
1/2- cup frozen corn
Pepper to taste... I like a lot ..and little bit of garlic powder, and most importantly...
Summer Savoury.....Summer Savoury makes any soup come alive...trust me. It almost revived Gord, Penny and all my furniture. I had to knock them back down into the soup. bastards...

Let simmer for about two hours. Serve with crusty rolls.

I was a little saddened that I didn't have any fresh dill, I like to throw that in to the mix as well.

Once I had all this shit crammed into my massive pot of soup, I didn't miss them (Gord and Penny) that much....the smell was marvy..... But I have to admit, I didn't like the smell of the fart laden recliners...it was a "who did it in their pants" kind of smell, so I sprayed the soup with some "Febreze".. and wow, it started to smell like "Rocky Springs"....just the taste I was going for.

From what I smell right now, I'm sure I will like it, even if they aren't here to be with me. If I knew they would have been that tasty I would have put both of them in the pot A VERY LONG TIME AGO. Then, at least I would have time for myself.

April 14, 1962

April 14, 1962.

46 years ago....he gave me his school ring .... and we started to go steady. Oy! 46 years ago.........

I remember it well, (forgive me, I may have posted this before)...but shut the hell up, I'm old I'm allowed to repeat myself.

My parents went to the city for the weekend and left me in charge of the house. heh..t r o u b l e. 17 going on 18, something was going to come down.

It was a Saturday night. Gord, myself, Hippychick and her boyfriend had a double date. We went to Neche North Dakota, because the guys could get into the bar before they were 21. Both of them were only about 18 years old, but in those days the bars never really checked for minors. They loved selling the Canucks liquor that they couldn't get at home where every knew them. That is just the way it was.

I can't remember how the night really went....but I am sure we all went to "lovers lane" down by the river and had some refreshments....normally that would have been Lemon Gin, because that was a proven "pantie remover"... in my day. I think there was a whole lot of "necking" going on, because this was a double date...two horny toads in the front of the car and two in the back. It was sweaty. Sometimes when Hippychick and I had to go to pee behind the car.... they thought it was hilarious start the car and take off and look at us pissing beside the road. Hardee har har.

We always had to be back into Canada by 12:00 because that is when the border crossing closed. That night Hippychick and I decided we really liked these two guys and we really wanted to go steady. We may have talked about it as we were sticking our cold asses in the snow trying to pee, while the guys left us in a cloud of gas fumes.

We still had a few bottles in the car that we hadn't finished, so it was time again to smuggle what was left under our blouses..jackets...back into Canada. Usually that was never a problem.

Then we went back to my house. My unsupervised house. Party time. We had liquor, sofas, and beds.. and a mission. I won't speak for Hippychick, because I can't remember if her mission was the same as mine......but I wanted Gord's highschool ring...and I wanted to go steady with one guy. The year before that had been kind of dry, I dated a few guys from my town, but I was always attracted to the guys who weren't from our town like Gord. They always seemed so much more dangerous, rode motorcycles and drank illegally in the US. Hey, I liked them. Best of all, they weren't Mennonites. And they made my parents crazy.
I had picked Gord earlier on in. He was sweet, elusive, cute, and a little dangerous...he didn't like to follow the rules. (later on in life I found this traight to be some what tiresome, ) but that is for another blog.

By the end of the evening I had his ring. April 14th. 1962. I probably had to get him drunk to give it to me, but I never gave it back either. I still have it. I wore it with a whole bunch of tape tucked in behind it for a long time. Then I think I wore it on a chain on my neck.

Hippychick, if you are reading this, please comment because I think my readers...if I have any would like to know your spin on this. Did Melvin give you his ring that night too? I can't remember. Janis....can you believe how long ago this was!!! It blows me away. It doesn't seem like yesterday, but it sure as hell doesn't seem like 46 years ago either. I know for a fact we haven't aged a bit. Gord and your ex (Melvin) sure as hell look like ole geezers.....

I just brought out my diary.

Apparently my memory is flawed. What I said further up really happened, but not on that night. It happened on most weekends if I am correct much later... UNTIL SOMEONE GOT HERSELF KNOCKED UP....I'm looking at you hippychick:) But on the night in question April 14, 1962 the entry read:

Dear Diary,

Melvin, Gordon and the guys came over to my house real late around 12:00 ..they were in Neche and got some booze. They came back to my house after the had hamburgers at "Glenn's."

side note: (those bastards didn't even bring us a burger) ...Janis and I were waiting for them. We had the house to ourselves for the love of God and nobody showed up until 12:00. Bastards.

anyway..here is the rest:
They had Mart with them too. Well diary, we had some refreshments (Note: I always said refreshments just in case my parents read my diary and would think I was drinking a Pepsi).

Well we had a ball! (Note: I always said that just in case my parents read my diary and thought I was dancing instead of doing... you know..) kissing and shit. My brother had a way of finding the key to diary and I always had to speak in code...that little bastard!

The guys only left around 2:00 ...boy IT WAS A BALL.

I've got Gordies ring now! I really like him a lot.

We are going steady!!! Bye. April 14th. 1962.

It's funny how you think you remember an occasion, but when look up the cold hard facts and it's not quite the same. I am really glad to have the diary, because sometimes it keeps me honest.

I found a pressed rose in it. But I have no idea where it came from. I am sure Gord gave it to me on an occasion I intended to remember.

Memories.............

When push comes to shove

With all this income tax shitolla, I have neglected my cooking with balonie site.



Well, I'm here to tell you that ole bitch would not take up the slack for me. Nope. She dug in her devil heels. So, I'm thinking of getting some professional help to get rid of her permanently. She still sits on my shoulder trying to make me do bad shit. I can.not.get.rid.of.her.



Just yesterday, I was coming home from work and was going to make a right hand turn into on coming traffic. She kept on saying "go bitch..go!"...I, being the one who has a brain (or is that brian) stopped and waited until it was safe proceed, obeying the road rules of our Province... still while I was trying to slap her stupid ass off my shoulder, light a smoke and take a cell phone call. A multi tasker I am not. Somebody had to loose.

Horns began to "honk" behind me! I checked my rear view mirror and the guy behind me was shaking his fists. "Balonie" was whispering in my ear....sayin put this fucker in reverse and lets see his air bag inflate in his ugly face. She is a smooth talker, and she had me going, because now I was mad and my brain, became brian and it wasn't connecting. The cars were still coming, and this bastard wanted to me turn into on coming traffic whether I felt safe to do so or not.

So, I put down my cell phone, thew out my smoke and backed into the bastard. And then he smashed into three other cars behind him, I got to see his ugly face for a second, before the air bag blew his head off.

Then I woke up.

Hey, it was a good dream. Most of that really happened that day, except I didn't back up and push him back. But I really wanted to...really really wanted to. Balonie is who I would like to be, a mean lean don't fuck around with me machine. I had visualized all of that when he began honking for no damn reason....but you know what I did instead... I went into traffic before I really was comfortable with doing it.

I am ashamed of myself for doing that. I let people push me around.

I was going to get rid of "Balonie" ... but you know... I should keep her on my shoulder..even though she can't cook. One day I might have some balls. Balonie has so many balls, you can't even count them. Yup, I want to be balonie with hairy balls!

Tax Tax..my Ass

I see some people have taken great delight in calling me an asshole in my Penny poll. I'm looking at you "Special K." How many times did you vote? heh...It had your fingerprints all over it. I must admit I don't mind being called an ass-hole, it just makes me want to do something assholeish again. Keeps the juices flowing.



I love those little poll thingamajigs. Now that I have deleted it, I can't remember where I found it. Hopefully I saved it in my fav's.



Got the accounting done for the income tax. Looks like we will have to sell Penny. The income is much higher than the expenses. I would like to know where that fucking income went to. I ain't wearing Gucci shoes. I ain't even wearing "value village" wear....my closet looks like a dog's breakfast....a little of this and more of that.



Gord instructed me last week...get that "instructed"..me?...to start buying some new clothes, because I am wearing the same stuff I wore when I was 30 pounds heavier. Buttttttt...I love those old baggy clothes, they feel so comfy, they have been washed so many times and are so soft. New clothes irritate my skin, and I start scratching, cutting off tags, and just being a turd.



I have sensitive skin, wool..begone, because I will die from the itching... cotton is good, but it wrinkles ...but cotton with poly works if I cut off all the tags. I have ruined many a garment by cutting off the tags, leaving gaping holes.



I'm going to go back to the drawing board to see if I can do my accounting a little more creatively, obviously I missed some expenses. I don't' want to have to sell Penny.

Incoming...........

I have been burning the midnight oil doing income tax prep work. This is my 3rd Sunday I have given to Revenue Canada .. should they not give me a discount for doing all the bookwork? Plus I have taken tomorrow off from work to finish it off. Those bastards owe me a shit pile of money. First they want you to keep your books in order, and then they have the nerve to ask you to bring the fricking records to your accountant to do your tax return.

This time of year brings hardship to my soul. For example, this afternoon, when I was up to my ass in spreadsheets, numbers...blah blah.. It took a turn for the worse. I made a very bad decision while sorting a excel spreadsheet. You don't want to know. I should have know better. But that spreadsheet is now in God's hands. And I fully believe, he see's everything that was somehow deleted from one's computer, I am praying he will somehow deliver that back to me tomorrow morning. I have faith. When I open up my email tomorrow, I will have one from GOD. I checked a few times today...nadda...but I will wait.

I have a back up spreadsheet, so I can start over. But I don't want to. I had planned to get this bookwork over by lunch tomorrow on my day off, and make myself pretty. Do shit I don't have time to do on the weekends.

I got a haircut on Saturday...which, by the way, looks like an old Princess Diana do. I like it. But of course I live in the past. I went through hundreds of hairdo's on the net, and always found myself back in the past. I loved the old Jane Fonda shag in the 70's, I love love love that look, and I wore it for many a year. But, now that I am older I just can't be bothered to grow my hair that long. I actually cut my hair myself in those days and shagged myself with pulling up the scissors while cutting. Another look I like that has come back is ...they used to call the Sassoon cut, shorter in the back and longer in the front. But that wouldn't do for me, because my chip monk cheeks don't need any attention put upon them.

So, if I get the bookwork done early tomorrow, I might just shave my legs, get an axe and chop off my toe nails, who have started to turn into cement, hem a few pairs of jeans... and just do something for myself for a change.

Wish me luck.

Trying to get the newbie to be a geek

Gord has refused to learn to use the computer. It pisses me off in so many ways ... some of the squirt might just have hit your eye. Did I just see you duck? Every time he wants me to check something on the net, I have to participate. Like, I really care about the price of tools in China. It BORES ME TO KINGDOM COME. My teeth clench, my whole body language speaks stilted Chinese. And I want to kung fu him, not in a good way.



So, the other day I decided to get back at him. If he wanted to have a conversation with me, he would have to learn to use the computer and the Internet. I was only going to talk to him in computer "speak." And if he wanted to know what I was talking about, he would have to get on the net and figure it out. I know,.......... tough love!



So, our day usually starts with with a shower, coffee and reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. And some small talk in between. He mentions stuff he reads, I talk about stuff I have read. It's all cool. Then we talk about what should be done that day. When he comes home from work we talk about what has been done and should have been done and make fun of each other for not doing what should have been done!



THAT IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. He will be forced to go on the computer to understand me, because I will be talking "Internet geek speak." If ya wanna know what I talkith about ...then go and figure it out brother.



Coffee time in the morning will go like this:



Gord: Did you pay the Mastercard bill last night on the computer?

Joan: Go to:
http://www.iknowshitallaboutcomputersandneedtoseeifmywifepaidthemastercardbill.com/



Gord: Huh?



Joan: Try and pay it YOURSELF...you are a big boy!



Gord: Time to head out to work, did you turn the coffee pot off?

Joan: Go to http://www.diditurnthecoffeepotoff/?.com

Gord: Damn it you....(bad word).

Joan: Check out http://www.don'tbecussingatme.com


Gord: This isn't funny anymore

Joan: Check out http://www.whenwasiteverfunny.com/

Gord: Talk to me!

Joan: Will you promise to learn to use the computer?

Gord: Ummm, yeah, when I have time.

Joan: Well then, go to http://www.iwilltalktoyouwhenihavetime.com/


Gord: What's going on here, are you saying we can't hold a simple conversation without going on the Internet to get an answer?



Joan: Yes.



Gord: (who had totally forgot what we talked about)...started to talk about one of his customers who was being a real jerk. And usually we will come up with a solution at the table. But this time I told him to go to http://www.mycustomerspissmeoff.com/ to get his answers. I didn't see him at the computer.


This is totally taking the load off my shoulders.


This morning he asked if he had any clean shorts. I told him to go to http://www.wherearemyshorts.com/


I'll bet he isn't wearing any today.


The door closed rather loudly on his way out.

The guy has no sense of humour.

Today at work (we work in the same building) he came up front to get his mail and asked me if the guys had gone for coffee next door.

I said: check out http://www.didtheguysgotothegreasyspoonnextdoorforcoffee.com/

Oops....that one almost broke the camels back.

Then he said, all serious and shit, you have to quit this! I said, I will, all you have to do it get on the computer and try to fend for yourself and try: http://www.iamsorryjoanformakingyoudoallmystuffontheinternet.com/

He gave me the Internet finger and said put this up your http://www.upyourass.com/

That's why I loves him, he has such a way with words.

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.