Adam Lambert and the AMA's

Some of you may have actually seen this performance live, but if you didn't I have linked to it on YouTube. Adam Lamberts AMA Performance

I have several things to say about this and I am going to try and keep my head level. Bare with me...

Was this the right venue for such an outlandish performance - Maybe not... however, it is Adam Lambert for crying out loud. If anyone saw him on American Idol, he is an obvious outlandishly flamboyant gay man. Inviting him to perform on the AMA's and then expecting a light hearted performance would be like asking KISS to remove their makeup and sing kumbaya. He is who he is and to expect anything less is kind of rediculous.

I understand that there were probably kids watching the AMA's and that some of his performance was noticeably rude to some people, but REALLY people.... is it that much worse than having to explain what a 4 hour erection is (Viagra commercial aired during the day) to your children? The song moves quickly enough, and so did Adam throughout his maze of Gothic laden dancers.. so I am sure that most kids missed the few things that Adam did that would be considered ADULT in nature. Music is expression and if you don't remember, Elvis Presley thrust his hips on the Ed Sullivan show back in the day and it really got people going. Hip hoppers and Rappers don't know how to sing without grabbing their own crotches and no one is up in arms about that when it happens on prime time television. If you don't want your kids to have a chance at seeing that stuff... DON'T LET THEM WATCH IT.

Here is a link to some other controversial kisses. Notably the first interracial kiss on TV. I know that the Adam Lambert kiss was just a part of the controversy that surrounded his performance, but it was the only thing that lasted longer than one or two beats of the song.

I personally LOVED the performance.... ALL OF IT. But apparently ABC, which broadcast the AMAs, said more than 1,500 people complained about Lambert’s show-closing number. The network called that a “moderate” response. 1500 whole people? I am thinking that it really wasn't that big of a deal.

Do I see where some could get offended, think it not the right venue, or decide to hate Adam Lambert forever? Sure I do... but I for one... LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!!

6 Days - A LOT can happen in 6 Days...

Fibromyalgia... the bane of my existence right now. It isn't so bad in the summer, but once the cold hits, it feels like I have a bad case of the flu with all over body aches. This isn't NEW news to any of my regular readers, or even those of you that know me in person, but it is a good set up to the last 6 days of my pishy (to steal a word from my favorite comedian - RIP Richard Jeni) little life.

Lets start back on Wednesday - not really counting this as a day, but it IS what catupulted me into an almost entire week of torment. Wednesday we got our first snow here in the big GJ. It was pretty - yadda yadda yadda - but with snow comes cold and with cold comes aches and pains.

Day 1 - Thursday - Woke up feeling like I had been hit with a baseball bat. Achey and couldn't get out of bed. It was definitely a call in to work kind of day. I laid in bed all day, watching crappy daytime TV and snoozing off and on.

Day 2 - Friday - Woke up feeling like the baseball bat had a huge vendetta and had once again attacked in the middle of the night. WORST part about this - it was Halloween dress up day at work. I still could barely get out of bed. I was Pissed OFF FA FA (thanks Jeff Dunham). Halloween is my favorite holiday and I love to dress up and see all of the other crazy people at work too. You know I feel like SHIT if I miss that day at work.

Day 3 - Saturday - Baseball bat still on attack. I just hoped that I would be able to at least go hand out candy and see the kids in costume. I managed to go to Robin's Dads house to hand out some candy, then to her brother's house to hand out some more and bullshit for a while. Overall, not a bad Halloween night. I didn't over do it and there were some pretty cool costumes this year.

Day 4 - Sunday - Yeah yeah baseball bat. I woke up kind of late, did the dishes, turned on football... etc. I got up around 2:15ish and popped 3 Naproxen Sodium (Generic for Aleve). No more than 10 minutes later... "man my arm itches... ohh now my legs... dammit now my back really fucking itches... can't breath... Robin... can't breathe..." 7 minutes later and a lot of coaching from Robin, the Fire Rescue was at my door. That 7 minutes felt like a fucking eternity. I was in full blown panic and that didn't help my breathing or itching at all. Ambulance was on its way... apparently Sunday was a fine day for an ambulance ride to the ER, because everyone was doing it... for one day in my life I did the "IT" thing for the day. They threw on some oxygen and took vitals fourteen hundred times and asked a million questions over and over again and then loaded me up in the ambulance for my slow crawl to the ER... no lights and sirens for me. In the ambulance I received 2 shots of Benydryl - one in each arm - and he tried to find my very frightened veins to no avail. Arrival at the ER - whisked-ish to a semi-private room for another round of the same vitals, questions, and a fresh IV. Bout this time the Benydryl had started to work and Robin and Alex were by my side. My BFF showed up a little while later - we have a pact - any ER visit we MUST be notified. Got home exactly 2 hours after the whole event had happened... apparent allergic reaction to Naproxen... I WON'T be taking that again. Shower and bed not too long after - called the boss and the back up to inform I wouldn't be in on Monday.

Day 5 - Monday - Baseball bat has turned into a Mack Truck. My neck and shoulders now are as tight as ever and it is getting more and more difficult to move as the day progresses. I spend another fun filled day with Daytime TV and Robin (she stayed home to care for my stupid ass). By bed time, I couldn't move my head without it feeling like someone was litterally poking a nerve with a hot poker. I took a Vicodin, and 3 hours later, I was able to sleep for a whopping 3 hours.

Day 6 - Tuesday (today if you have lost count) - Mack truck backed up and ran over me again.. fucking trucks. I now can't get comfortable no matter what I do. I had a doc appt set for 3:40. IF I can just wait it out. I popped another Vicodin... Robin came home at lunch to continue to care for me. RING RING - phone - at 2:30ish. Robin answers... it is Alex's teacher at Auto Mechanics school... Alex was putting in a mirror on a Cutlass and gave it one hard push and the fucker shattered. Off to the doc's we go - earlier than planned - I have a pinched nerve from the stress of Sunday and Alex is sporting 12 stitches in his right hand.

I am now calmly patting Robin's hand and giving her Valium... been a shitty 6 days... yep for real.


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On a side note - I have moved a lot of blogs from MySpace to here. I needed a new place to call home. Please feel free to read and comment at any time.

Love you all!!

~Peace!!

Workday Blues....

October 2, 2006 - Monday

Oh my GOD! I have had the day from hell. To not bore you with the details of what I actually do, I am going to speak in a language that we will all understand.

If you work with the public, private companies, own your own business, or even if you are a house-wife/man, then you will have probably dealt with some of the same things I deal with daily.

I want what I want when I want it…

You know those types right? I swear to high heaven that people think that they are the only human on earth that needs you RIGHT NOW. Why yes Mr. Customer, let me stop what I am doing and cater to you!

What do you mean you can't do that for me?

Well Mr. Customer, I would be happy to pull that OUT OF MY ASS for you, but I kinda promised my wife that I would pull out World Peace and a bazillion dollars first!

I called you 3 seconds ago. You didn't answer so now I am going to page you and not leave you a voicemail.

I am sorry Mr. Customer, I am a smoker… BECAUSE OF YOU! I am allowed to take smoke breaks and I am sure that after we hang up AND after I pull something out of my ass for you, I will go have another cigarette to calm down.

We never do anything wrong so why can't we ____________ (fill in the blank)?

Yep, our customers are never wrong in their own eyes. So let me kiss your ass some more… I THINK NOT! Thank goodness where I work, the customer can be wrong in some situations..

We spend a trillion dollars with you or we have been a customer for X amount of years. We are more important than God.

I understand that you spend a lot of money with us, but we have RULES. But, Rules are meant to be broken right? Not if you are a peon like me, but give it to a supervisor and miracles can happen and rules go by the wayside.. meanwhile the peon looks like an ass. Thankyouverymuch.

Can we get this done in a hurry… I just got this order and I need it ASAP.

Translation – I have had this from my supervisor for a week now and I forgot about it… so now my ass is in trouble and I need you to once again PULL SOMETHING OUT OF YOUR ASS to get it done. Remember people, my wife takes priority here!

I guess I could go on and on… but why… what good would it do? I sure do feel a bit better.

What kind of work things piss you off?

~Peace

I thought 4 years was forever…

September 30, 2006 - Saturday

Ya know how someone says "I will love you forever", or "I want to be with you forever"? I have had 3 serious relationships since I graduated from High School and two of them lasted only 4 years. I was sure that forever meant only four lousy years.

Well, I have finally found out differently. I know now that forever last longer than 4 years. So far, it has been 7. That's right folks… Robin and I will celebrate our 7 year anniversary tomorrow, October 1^st.

I fell head over heals in love almost from the moment I laid eyes on her. She made me laugh. We met at work. She was a supervisor and I was a peon. I was moved from my current supervisor's team to her team. I knew that somehow I had to get her. BUT, there was one small problem. She was married … to a man.

I was/am not the type to get involved with someone that is already in a relationship… especially a "straight" relationship. I don't know what came over me to even pursue any type of relationship with Robin, but I absolutely could not help myself. I knew that she was the one for me, but I didn't know how to go about getting her. Yes, that sounds like she is some sort of trophy or prize, and in my eyes, she is a prize.

A bunch of girls went to happy hour after work at a local dive. We were drinking and having a good time when 2 of the girls that we were with decided to go to the ladies room. You know how women have to go in twos to the bathroom – especially in this bar.

That left Robin and I alone at the table. I was pretty well lit and feeling brave, so I asked her if she had ever thought about being with, or had ever been with a woman. I was actually freaking out that those words even came out of my mouth – I was mentally trying to reach out and catch them and shove them back in! She answered with something like "I have never been with a woman, but I have noticed an attraction to them…" I was elated!

I left it alone for a bit because the girls came back from the bathroom. Robin had ridden with me to the bar, so when it was time to go, I took her back to the parking lot where we worked. She leaned over for a hug (we had been hugging our entire friendship), and I planted one on her. This time I was more worried about a slap across the face, but the reaction I got was a beautiful kiss. Whew!! Fireworks do not even begin to describe that moment. The butterflies in my stomach grew to full blown eagle size, but oh so worth it.

So that is how we met and fell in love. The years to follow have been hard work. Robin and I have quite a few friends that tell us how wonderful we are together. We are wonderful together, but that wonderfulness doesn't come easy. We fight, holler, scream, stomp, argue, silent treatment, pout, whine, and communicate our way through a lot of life's little difficulties and in the end we either agree to disagree or come to a solution.

We also, laugh, giggle, snort, wrestle, sit quietly, watch TV, watch movies, play on the computer, snuggle, cuddle, and have the time of our lives together.

Robin is my best friend, my lover, my mentor, and my soul mate.

And that is why I now believe that forever is a whole lot longer than four lousy years.

~Peace

The Homosexual agenda....

September 25, 2006 - Monday

Most people say that Homosexuals are:

Child Molesters

Porn Freaks

Sex Addicts

Abominations

Perverts

Sinners

Twisted

Sick

Un-Godly

Demonized

Beast Loving

People say that Homosexuals cannot raise children because the kids will be Gay.

People say that Homosexuals cannot believe in God because we "go against" what the Bible says.

People say that we are unnatural because of what goes on behind closed doors.

People say that we cannot possibly love someone of the same sex.

People say a lot of things...

But this poster says it best... here is MY Homosexual Agenda...

I have so many wonderful friends here on MySpace... some gay, some straight, some crooked... I love you all equally. Thanks for being you!

~Peace

We now have a teenager!

September 16, 2006 - Saturday

Happy Birthday Boy!

For our son's 13th birthday, we had a family get together at our house last night. Alex had a couple of friends, his Uncle John, his Aunt Diann, his cousins - Kyann (and her sweet boyfriend), Darrian, TJ, and Kyra, his Papaw, and his Dad, Mom and I. Our house was a bit crowded! We had a blast! The kids played outside while I grilled up some burgers. We pigged out and then Alex sat down to his cake.

When we were done singing, he opened his presents. Now, I don't know how many of you have teenagers, but ours wanted nothing but cash... so, being the spoiled rotten brat that he is, cash is exactly what he got...

I am thinking it was to the tune of $210.00!! If you couldn't tell by that big ass grin on his face!

Well, no birthday can go by without the spankings, right? I had to catch him first... but I AM the Superior Step-Monster, so I was able to catch him!

And then Uncle John held him while I proceeded to whoop his butt!!

Alex had his buddy Jake stay the night. I was up kinda late last night and let me tell you what, it really did my heart good to hear them laughing out in the living room while they were playing the video games. It was that really hard laughing that you did when you were a kid and had someone stay over. I was sitting here giggling just listening.

Today, we promised to take Alex to the mall for a hoodie. We never did find anything he liked, so we ended up with a light jacket to hold him until he finds something that he likes. Once we were done at the mall, we went to Grand Junction Motor Speedway! The boys were in hog heaven. Holy crap they had a wonderful time!

Alex on the left, Jake on the right

Alex

Jake

Alex rounding the turn!

Alex crossing Finish Line

The first few times around the track, they just did freestyle. There wasn't enough people for a race... but a few older guys showed up so they let them line up for a real race. Alex is in the very backon the left. I sure hoped he could pull out front...

Turns out, my boy came in second, with a big thumbs up!!

The older guys were cool enough to let us take their picture with Alex and Jake. Alex is on the left in the gray jacket and Jake is holding the helmet.

Holy crap those boys had so much fun! The ride home was nothing but chatter, chatter, chatter! I don't think he will forget this birthday for a long time!!

Man I love that boy!

~Peace

I remember...

September 10, 2006 - Sunday

It was a cool morning that Monday. I started a new training class at work. I showed up around 6:30 to find a fire truck parked out front. Everyone that had been inside was outside waiting. The cause of the fire truck... some brainiac had put a coffee cup with a metal lining in the microwave! It caused a horrific odor, the countertop to melt, and a part of the linoleum on the floor to burn away.

I remember... that was September 10th, 2001.

September 11th started off fairly normal for me. I had about 5 or 6 people in my class and they were a fun little group. It was only the second day and we had already formed a connection.

Around 8:30 or so, my boss stuck her head in the door of my classroom and said a plane had run into one of the World Trade Center Towers. At first, it was shocking and sad to think that people had died in such a tragic accident, but we didn't know the actual devastation to follow.

A little while later, my boss reappeared to tell the news of the second plane. We then knew something was horribly wrong. We went down to our breakroom that has a T.V. and started to watch the horror unfold. I was weak in my knees and my heart ached so bad. I wanted to cry, run, help, anything... but I am in Colorado... what could I do.

Several people in our call center were directly affected by this tragedy and so our company (bless their souls) let people go home on an individual basis. My class stayed... I remember... we didn't work too hard that day. We spent a lot of time running up and down the stairs to check in on the happenings.

I remember... the terrible loss that NY suffered that day. The terrible loss America suffered that day.

I remember... sitting in the parking lot of Safeway with my partner when our Government declared war. I did cry then. I can't handle the thought of lives being ruined by bombs and anger. Our young, very young, men and women leaving families to go fight to stop the terror.

I remember... being so angry at our Government for saying the war was over yet we lost and we are still losing young innocent lives everyday.

I remember... and I will NEVER forget.

~Peace

I am a Drag King...

September 2, 2006 - Saturday

I don't have any desire to be a man. BUT, I sure as hell do like dressing up as one to perform for swarms of gay people!

Jace (pronounced like ace with a J) is my given Drag name. Robin thought of it one day and I fell in love with it. I love it so much I had it tattood on my arm.

I have performed for about 5 years. I am completely, 100% addicted.

I thought I would share some of my pictures with you.

This is my tattoo. It is a bit fuzzy because of the flash on my very white skin LOL

Introducing Jace...

I used to use eyeliner to draw my face and sideburns. I just recently got a tip on how to use my own hair. The pictures above show the eyeliner version and the next couple of pics are of my own hair.

On to the benefits of doing Drag! Robin is always my first tip. It helps me to get into the show more... lol!

This is my sister-in-law... it made my brother-in-law jealous... lol!

A few more tippers...

In this last pic... she looks mad and I look stoned... neither is the case! I am HAMMERED drunk though... LOL

Thanks for stopping in!

~Peace

I am a Drag King...

September 2, 2006 - Saturday

I don't have any desire to be a man. BUT, I sure as hell do like dressing up as one to perform for swarms of gay people!

Jace (pronounced like ace with a J) is my given Drag name. Robin thought of it one day and I fell in love with it. I love it so much I had it tattood on my arm.

I have performed for about 5 years. I am completely, 100% addicted.

I thought I would share some of my pictures with you.

This is my tattoo. It is a bit fuzzy because of the flash on my very white skin LOL

Introducing Jace...

I used to use eyeliner to draw my face and sideburns. I just recently got a tip on how to use my own hair. The pictures above show the eyeliner version and the next couple of pics are of my own hair.

On to the benefits of doing Drag! Robin is always my first tip. It helps me to get into the show more... lol!

This is my sister-in-law... it made my brother-in-law jealous... lol!

A few more tippers...

In this last pic... she looks mad and I look stoned... neither is the case! I am HAMMERED drunk though... LOL

Thanks for stopping in!

~Peace

Happy Period?!?!? WTF?... Part Deaux

August 30, 2006 - Wednesday

Some of you may have read my Happy Period?!?!? WTF?... Blog a while back. If you didn't have that pleasure, you may want to check it out before you read on *smile*.

Always is up to their wonderful tricks again! Now like I have stated before, the "Happy Period" logo/statement has GOT to go... but they keep on putting that shit on my television!

The latest innovation from our "friends" at Always is how to ensure you feel "shower fresh" at all times. Oh good grief! To help us in this endeavor, they have come up with a wet wipe (like the one's used on a baby's butt) that is packaged on the individual package that contains your sanitary napkin. AND... they are completely flushable as to not embarrass you any further.

I am sure that women everywhere are running out to purchase this new item to ensure shower freshness every time. I was utterly grossed out when they came out with the scented pads... you knew when someone walked by that it was "that time of the month". ICKY POOEY! Now, I am sure that the new scent floating by will be the "shower fresh" baby wipes. *sigh*

Well... here's to a "Happy Period" to my unfortunate lady friends that are still enduring that lovely time of the month!

~Peace

Henry...

August 23, 2006 - Wednesday

When I was little, I had a stuffed bunny rabbit named Jason. We (my parents and I) took a trip to Kansas to visit my Grammy and Granddad (my Moms folks). I carried Jason with me everywhere and this was no exception. I apparently fell asleep in the car and when we pulled into the driveway at Grammys house, my Granddad picked me up out of the car and carried me into the house to bed.

I woke up the next morning and Jason was no where to be found. I was panicked, my parents were panicked, it wasnt pretty. My Dad went and searched the car AGAIN and didnt find him. He was walking back into the house when he spotted Jason, OR, what was LEFT of Jason. Apparently the neighbor dog used Jason as a snack. Well, the Parental Units went into "save the child" mode and immediately ventured out to buy a "replacement" stuffed animal.

I ended up with Henry. This was actually a good thing. Henry was a cute little yellowish brown dog with black ears and a black nose and a tag across his chest that said Henry. I loved Henry so much. Jason was easily replaced with this cute little dog. I carried him everywhere. As a matter of fact, he slept in my bed even through my High School years.

I graduated from High School and was heading off to College. I packed the stuff that I would really need and put the rest of my important things in a BIG box in the closet at Moms house, Henry included.

My sister evidently put some unimportant looking stuff in the top of that box, because my Mom was cleaning out the room and closet and without looking too deeply in the box, she threw away my trophies and Henry. INSERT BIG SAD FACE HERE

Once my Mom realized what she had done, she was devastated. My poor Mother tried to make up for throwing Henry away for YEARS. Every Christmas, I would get a new stuffed animal A Cow, A Cabbage Patch, etc. Henry was not sold anymore and we didnt know who made him. So actually replacing Henry WITH a Henry was impossible.

One day a few years ago (about 8 or so), I went home to visit my Mom. We were sitting around just shooting the breeze when she suddenly jumped up and went to the back of the house. She returned with a rolled up brown paper bag. She said "I was going to wait until Christmas, but I just cant". My stomach sank, could it be? I opened that bag like something was going to bite me when I got into it. I reached inside and carefully pulled out a well worn, freshly washed, new nose sewn on, cuter than ever, HENRY!

My Mom and Step-Dad go to flea markets on occasion. According to my Mom, she was walking around just browsing and she "spotted Henrys foot" amongst a pile of stuffed animals. She said that she "nearly knocked a poor old lady over diving into the pile" to fetch Henry. She bought him and went to my Step-Dad and said "LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!" He was like WOW! She said guess how much I paid for him. He looked as she held up 3 fingers. He said 3 HUNDRED???? She laughed and said that it was 3 dollars. LOL!!

Now Henry sits beside my bed. In his rightful place.

Thanks for reading. I just thought it would be fun to write about my little buddy.

~Peace

Born to be Butch?

August 15, 2006 - Tuesday

The picture for my "need a pic friends"

I have a really good mixture of friends here on MySpace. They range in age, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation. That is just the way I like it.

I have never been really shy. I will answer anyones questions about me with as much truth and insight as I possibly can. I feel it is only fair. A lot of what scares people away from differences is ignorance and I feel that I have a duty to help someone to understand me in the hopes that they will understand the masses. I remember growing up and being around an interracial couple. I dont remember it well, because I was little, but I do have a very vague memory. It was normal. That is what I remember. My parents had some friends that happened to be a mixed couple. All there was to it.

I am a Butch Lesbian. What does that mean? Well, I am going to do my best to explain what it means to me to be Butch. I am sure most people know what Lesbian means, so I am going to skip that part.

When I was young, I enjoyed playing with boy toys, playing with the boys, wearing boy clothing, running around in my backyard without a shirt (because that is what boys did) and playing softball. All of those things were chalked up to me being a "Tom Boy". Even then, I didnt realize I was a Lesbian. I just thought I was different.

I know that there are a lot of women who when they were young were TomBoys, and now they are successful, beautiful, married to men, 100% straight women. Guess what? Awesome! However, I didnt grow up to be that way. Oh believe me, I tried. I dated guys all through High School trying to fit in, trying to feel loved, trying to hide me from the world.

One day I woke up. I wont go into all the details of "how I came out" blah blah blah because that is not what this blog is for. After 2 four-year relationships with 2 different women, it finally hit me what I wanted. I was 29 years old and I finally figured out what I wanted in life. I wanted a feminine woman. The reason I wanted a feminine woman was because I am Butch.

Butch to me is an attitude. One thing to clear up is that I DO NOT want to be a man. No offense to the men folk, but being Butch is not about being male. Not in any way, shape or form. Butch is chivalry opening doors, helping her on with her coat, taking her hand when she is stepping off of a curb, telling her that she is beautiful everyday even when she first wakes up, taking out the trash, helping with dinner, laundry, and dishes, gassing the vehicles, fighting like hell, making up, and lastly living my life for her.

Butch is appearance you might think that it is only mens clothing and short hair that would make a Butch, but it isnt. I have seen many a Butch with long hair. I have also seen a Butch in a nice womens suit. Now, neither of those looks are for me. I am a comfortable type. I like my jeans and t-shirts or nice dress pants and a button down shirt. I like to look sharp for my girl. My hair is short because I cant do a thing with it! (lol).

Butch is not domination. I dont "wear the pants" in the family (oh okay but only when SHE lets me). I dont make all of the decisions. I dont do all of the "man" things.

Butch is both an instinct and a learned behavior. I didnt always call myself Butch. I figured it out when I was much older. But I love who I am.

So, all in all... I was Born to be ME ...Kari Williams... Friend, Lover, Mother, Sister, Daughter... Butch.

~Peace

BIG SKY... little plane!

June 9, 2006 - Friday

As I have stated before in my blog, I traveled a few times with the company that I work for. I live in a smaller town in Colorado, so getting from point A to point B can sometimes be a bit tricky. AND, when you work for any company, penny pinching is what they do best! The airport here in town is a small time operation with flights to Denver and Salt Lake City to connect you to your real plane. On one occasion, my company decided that it would be more cost effective (wouldnt want to use the word cheap oh no they are NOT cheap) to have us drive our own vehicles (with mileage pay) to Denver to catch our flight to Enid, Oklahoma.

Enid, Oklahoma is basically Hell. I grew up in Oklahoma (thank you for the pity) and Enid was not too far from my old stomping grounds. This town consists of more places to eat than one town should possibly have if you spell Enid backwards, you get DINE! Anyway, it is not the most pleasant of places to visit.

But my story is about the trip TO Enid not about the town itself, so I will get back on track now.

The night before we were to drive to Denver to catch our flight was one of my co-workers birthday. The tradition for his birthday was at a mutual friend/co-workers home. I knew that I had to get up REALLY early in the morning, but I could not miss the Jamison annual birthday bash. My partner and I showed up, had a couple of drinks and headed out the door around 10pm. As we were leaving Jamison was well on his way to being HAMMERED! Remember, Jamison is also scheduled to make this trek over the mountains with me and a couple of other fellas early in the morning.

5am rolls around too quickly I might add, and I am waiting for them to stop to pick me up. I was the last to be picked up because my house is on the way out of town. The car pulls up and the first thing I see is Jamison with his face pressed up against the cool glass of the car window secretly praying to GOD to take the sick away. Evidently when Merle picked Jamison up he was STILL at the house where the party was and STILL extremely inebriated. I just started laughing. In my fit of laughter, my partner (the level headed of our relationship) says Want a trash bag?. I thought that was a dandy idea and she ran in the house to grab one.

We loaded the trunk with my bags and headed to the nearest convenience store for some goodies and drinks (non-alcoholic Jamison definitely didnt need any more) for the road. Jamison came out carrying 2 gigantic things of Gatorade. My first thought was good idea, he needs the fluids but that idea quickly vanished, when to my horror, realized he had them both guzzled before we hit the next small town. But, my instinct was wrong, because shortly there after, Jamison fell asleep oh hell, who are we kidding PASSED SMOOTH OUT!

The 3 passengers breathe a sigh of relief and Merle continues around the curvy roads of the canyon. Yes, thats right, I said curvy. I am sitting in the front passenger seat jamming to the tunes on the radio, Merle is driving and singing, David is in the back seat on the drivers side catnapping, and Jamison is passed out behind me in the back seat. Winding, twisting, curving and then Jamison wakes up. Ive got to puke!

Talk about 3 people in sheer panic mode... none of us want 90 gallons of God knows what kinds of alcohol all over us or the car. I scream David! The trash bag! It is in between the seats on the floor! Grab it quick! He hands, more like throws, the bag at Jamison just in time! Jamison starts to hurl into the bag. David is a bit green having to witness it so closely, I am laughing my ass off because beside me, Merle is dry heaving and frantically rolling his window down. We pulled over in a rinky dink spot cant really even call it a town called No Name. I shit you not people this town is really called No Name, Colorado. Jamison ran into the restroom to finish his business and the other 3 of us just milled around in front of the car smoking cigs until he got done with his puke fest in No Name.

Thank goodness that the stop in No Name was his only need to rid himself of all that alcohol. We didnt have to stop again until we got to the Park-N-Fly parking lot. Although he never had to puke again, he was still really not himself. The Park-N-Fly was pretty tame and we headed to the Airport. We had just enough time to get through security and practically run through the airport to our gate.

Now, I am not stupid, and I knew that our flight from Denver to Enid would not be on a 747. Enid airport is smaller than the one at home. But I did not guess that we would be flying in a plane that was basically a hot water heater with wings. The name of our Airline was Big Sky Airlines. I was thinking yeah right big sky little plane! We didnt even get the pleasure of walking down the little tunnel and right into the plane. Oh no! We had to walk across the tarmac to our plane. I boarded this plane (I am damn near 6 foot tall) and had to hunch over, almost completely bent in half. I got to my assigned seat. I sat down, ate my knees, and could reach across the plane to the other window without much stretching. This was a small dang plane.

I resigned myself to the fact that this could be a long trip, but if I just slept the whole way, I would be just fine and it would be over before I knew it. The pilot came over the loudspeaker but I couldnt hear him let alone understand anything he had to say. The engine sound was equivalent to a lawn mower that needed a tune up really really bad! We rolled down the runway. I was almost positive that the captain had dropped open a panel in the floorboard to use his Flinstone feet to get the plane going. Up in the air we went. Finally! Now maybe I can sleep. Who was I kidding? The plane didnt get any quieter and my ears were popping so bad that all I could do was try to stretch out my legs in the non-existent isle and stare off into space. I did look out the window at the scenery passing by below. I was over the wing. Holy crap! What is that? Is that no it cant be duct tape? Oh My GOD! It is. I sure hope that part of the plane isnt vital because there was grey duct tape holding it on.

I am now starting to get freaked out. I take a sip of my Soda. Ok I will read. That will take my mind off this creepy flying hot water heater. I was fumbling around for my book when I looked up and saw something that scared me worse than the duct tape. In this particular plane, the captain and his co-pilot, could be seen. There was no protective barrier between us and them. The captain of the plane was reading a newspaper. Now I know that planes mostly fly themselves, but the problem was not with the newspaper, or the fact that he was reading it while flying, but that he was FLYING THE PLANE WITH HIS KNEE! I about passed out at this point. I just closed my eyes and by the grace of God, I fell asleep.

I woke up when I heard the rattle of the loudspeaker. We were about to land at the gigantic Enid International Airport. One terminal, one gate, one security officer, and sweet ground! I was never so happy to be in a plane that landed. I almost kissed the tarmac as I stepped down off the plane, but I was too worried about being able to walk upright again.

The rest of the trip was pretty mild and we accomplished the assigned company mission. I will never forget that trip or the fellas I went with. At least that is one good thing about working with a bunch of loonies and having to trek off to heaven knows where to get the job done.

~Peace!

It’s not what you sell… it’s who buys it!

June 4, 2006 - Sunday

This weekend my family and I had a Yard Sale.

I love going to Yard Sales myself because of all of the "treasures" you can find "Oh honey look, a turbo-charged vegetable slicer/car engine cleaner!! It is only $1.50, but I bet I can get em down to .75 cents!" My son and I will hop in the truck every once in a while and go looking for things that we just cant live without.

And then we (being my girlie and I), realized that we have way too much shit. This past winter we have done a ton of remodeling and in the process, we have de-cluttered mountains of crap out of our house. The trash-men are scared to drive down our street due to all the heavy lifting just at our house. Either that, or they are excited at the possible workmans comp case our house could afford them!

Anyway, we decided to have a yard sale for the items that we could just not throw away or take to the dump. But the purpose of this blog is not for the items we sold at the yard sale, but for the clientele that the yard sale sign attracts. (I am sure somewhere that there is a similar blog about me showing up at someones yard sale lookin like white trash, so I feel that I can do the same heh heh heh)

The first person to show up at the sale that about had me peeing my pants, was a man in his mid to late fifties that was wearing a worn out t-shirt, a pair of kakhi shorts, and my personal favorite, a pair of mid-leg lace-up hiking boots. Thats right folks yard saling requires the proper foot attire. You never know when you might run into some deep mud or steep rock at these things.

The next one that made me laugh, actually turned out to be really sweet, but his outfit had to go. He was a bigger fella wearing overalls with a wife-beater underneath and a greasy baseball cap that had his unkempt, greasy, braided, long hair in one place. It was the overalls and wife-beater that had me almost back over the fence ya know. Made me so hot whew!

Then there was the woman who came walking up the drive. We made it a point of saying hello to everyone who came to our sale and asking them how they were doing. When we asked this lady how she was, she said "ooooh it is getting hot out here." And yes it was getting hot, but upon looking at her outfit, I knew why she was so friggin hot. Long blue wool (maybe not wool but definitely a hot fabric) pants, and a long sleeved blue shirt. LADY, it is 900 degrees out here put on some fucking shorts and a t-shirt!!

And last but not least, the IQ degenerates. I am not sure how to even go about describing this couple. But I am going to give it my best shot. They meandered around our junk picking out the Coca-Cola stuff that I had out. I was really happy about that because I have so much of it that I was ready to get rid of some of the non-essentials. He was the talker of the pair. Apparently they were married, but whomever gave them the marriage licensee obviously accepted X as the signature for the couple. They were both very smelly and werent wearing clean clothes. The car they drove was uglier than hell with a dirt and rust paint job. I am sure that was the only thing holding it together. The guy finally came up to pay for the items. The woman followed him up. He said, "I am going to pay for these and my wife is going to pay for the lamp." She grunted and handed me a fifty dollar bill. They meandered off to their car and that is when the fun started... Robins brother gave them an IQ between them of 25 at first. Robin said that was being generous. They then came back down to pick out a few more items we werent completely sure they remembered even buying the first stuff, it was kinda creepy. He was chattering on about the coke stuff and then they went back to the car. And then he grabbed something out of his car and came back over to where we were sitting. He unrolled a coke coffee mug that he had a long story for. The funny thing is that he had this mug rolled up in a friggin maxi-pad bag thats right folks, a Kotex bag. I thought my niece (17 years old) was going to fall out of her chair. After his story, he scooted back to his car. They sat there for a bit (I am sure it was to figure out how to start the car) and then they drove off. John, Robins brother, recanted his IQ of 25 and went down to a combined of 14 9 for the guy and 5 for the girl. Diann (My sister in law) was sure that they would get down the street, flip a bitch, and see our yard sale and stop again, thinking it was a whole new sale. I just hope they really are dumb enough to forget my address.

Needless to say, today I am sore, hot, tired, cranky, and a whole list of bitchy adjectives. But it was worth it for the few extra bucks we made. I just hope that I can keep my yardsaling impulses to a minimum so that I dont have to have another one ever again.

~Peace

You GodDamned Fool...

May 7, 2006 - Sunday

For work I had to travel to a far away land... Virgina... to help open a new line of business for our company. Two and a half months I spent eating at restaurants and sleeping in a strange hotel room.

I was the only one from my town going and I was to meet up with a bunch of strangers that also worked for my company, but from different parts of the U.S. and Canada. I thought I was going to be hideously lonely the whole time. **woah is me**

But when I got there, I met the most wonderful people! One of them was Jessica. She is from Saskatchewan, Canada. I could write a whole blog on just how wonderful she is!

Anyway, we passed the time in good ol Lynchburg, VA, by roaming the town looking for shit to do. And, even though I am a butch lesbo, I am still female and when 2 females get together, they tend to GAB. Jess and I knew how to gab.

One particular boring day, we jumped in the rental car and headed for the mall (I AM female, but I HATE the mall oh what we do for our friends tee hee hee). Well, you know how most mall parking lots are... big ass mazes with no sense of direction right? The mall in Lynchburg was no different. I was driving, and we were gabbing, and I was looking for a certain side of the mall to park, and I was gabbing, and driving you get the picture.

Basically, I wasnt paying any fucking attention to where the hell I was going and then out of nowhere

SCREEEETTTTCCCHHHHH I slam on brakes and came literally centimeters from hitting a little blue haired old lady. JESUS CHRIST! I fling open my car door to make sure she is okay and didnt have a freakin stroke right there in the damn parking lot.

ME... Oh God Maam I am sooo sorry, are you okay?

HER... (in a reaaaally high pitched freaked out old lady voice) You Gawddamned fooool!

ME... I am so sorry maam, are you okay? I didnt even see you!

HER... (same voice) You people from OOOOHHIIIIOOOO

ME... Maam I am not from Ohio (thinking to myself what a dumb fucking response)

HER... ***Slams cardoor and speeds off***

ME... Jess are you okay?

JESS... Yes

US... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Now, you have to understand, the rental car that we were driving had Ohio plates. I am sure that is the reason the blue hair got confused. We about peed ourselves laughing and to this day, when Jess and I talk no matter how bad we are feeling, all we have to do is say "You Goddamned fool" and we crack the hell up!

This blogs for you Jess!

~peace

To all the designers of Public Restrooms...

April 5, 2006 - Wednesday

To all the designers of Public Restrooms...
Current mood: blah
Category: Life

Going to the restroom has to be one of the most time wasting activities of the day. To top it all off, this natural wonder happens at the most INCONFUCKINGVENIENT times. Take, for instance, a trip to WalMart. This place is the equivalent of hell for me anyway, and then to have to go to freakin bathroom rates right up there with poking my own eye out with a fork.

I think the ladies are going to agree with me more than you fellas will, but bare with me. Here are my pet peeves about a public restroom.

• First and foremost, they wreak I dont care how many times a day someone goes in there with Lysol or how many squirts shoot from the auto air freshener, there is not a product on the face of the earth that will hide that public restroom smell.

• Stalls every big womans nightmare most of them are made too small. I have a friend that is teeny tiny and I am sure the stalls still make her look big.

• The doors on the stalls they really need to swing OUT people! Not in when you are going to go in, pull your pants down, and sit to pee, you have to be able to close the FUCKING door. It isnt pleasant to have to straddle the toilet just so you can close the door!

• Toilet paper dispensers this has to be one of my worst nightmares for some reason, they are always placed really low on the wall of the stall. I am not sure even the best contortionist is able to bend their arm in the way that it needs to be to get the toilet paper started. IF you are able to accomplish that task then your paper will inevitably rip off after one or two sheets. Normally this wouldnt be such a bad thing, but most public places use cheap ass, one ply, see through paper. So then you are stuck contorting again to get the fucker started.

• Automatic flushers these stupid things are a novel idea that is IF they dont flush before you are finished I am so tired of having my ass sprayed with pissy toilet mist. That is just unfreakinacceptable. Let me flush when I am done please?

• Hand washing half the time the water is either Arctic cold or Hell hot. There is no happy medium. Then you have a dispenser there with either pink or orange goo that they want to call soap. Most of the time it is empty but when you do get lucky enough to score some soap, it smells like an antibiotic that has rotted in its bottle.

• Paper towel dispenser always empty so then you get to "air dry" your hands. That is so convenient. Isnt it? Standing there rubbing your wet hands under cold air hoping that they will dry. Screw that noise I will dry my hands on my pants first.

I just wish that the designers of the accessories in the bathrooms would actually sit in one then maybe they would see what the hell I am talking about.

Damn I gotta pee thank GOD I am at home.

~Peace

Best April Fools Joke EVER

April 1, 2006 - Saturday

One afternoon about 5 years ago, I got on the computer to check my email. There was a letter in my inbox that I will never forget.

To give you a bit of background… I am a BIG momma's baby. I worship my mother. The bad thing is that I live 1000 miles away from her. I hate that I live so far away, but it was a move I chose to make to get out of the hell I was living… but that is another blog entirely.

Anywho… The letter. This letter was from my step-dad. A man I cherish. It stated that he had been transferred to the East Coast for work. He and my mother would be moving. That simple little letter DEVASTATED me!

I was instantaneously pissed/hurt/angry/frustrated… you get the idea. I couldn't believe that they didn't call me to tell me the news. That they didn't have the balls. I couldn't fathom the idea of trying to get to the South Carolina to visit. I don't have that kind of money… it is hard enough to get to Oklafreakinhoma from Colorado.

I woke up Robin… who was napping… tears a flowin (being a big ass baby cuz my mommy is moving to freakin china! Ok South Carolina is close enough)… she was like what the fuck? I explained. She was so great… she comforted me and said that we would find the money somehow to go visit. I was still just beside myself.

I grabbed the phone and dialed frantically… ring… ring… ring… NO DAMN ANSWER. SHIT!

Dialing my sisters number…

SIS… Hello

ME… What the fuck?

SIS… What do you mean "what the fuck"?

ME… Did dad lose his balls?

SIS… What are you talking about?

ME… Did they call you, or did they send you a chicken shit email too?

SIS… KARI, what are you talking about?

ME… You know… the MOVE?

SIS… When did you get that email?

ME… Today.

SIS… What is today?

ME… April 2^nd.

SIS… That email came yesterday.

ME… #pauses to think#… SHIT! That bastard!!

SIS… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA

ME… Fuck off!

SIS… Goodbye

ME… Bye… love you.

SO… needless to say, I was now in the "OHHHHH I am going to get him. Sooooo for the next YEAR I plotted. I needed to come up with something that would get him so good that he would regret messin with me!

A year passes… The end of March was upon me and I had to lay the plan in place. I called my mom to fill her in so that she wouldn't die of a heart attack.

Robin is so good with words and can make anything look professional. We sat at the computer. I was so excited I couldn't contain myself. This was going to ROCK his socks off.

We designed Company letter-head for the Twilight Transgender Clinic. And on this lovely letterhead we instigated the most amazing April Fools joke ever!

Side note… we lost the actual letter in a computer crash… I will explain it here…

The gist of the letter was that I was considering having a sex change operation and that I needed the love and support of my family. I would need them to come from Oklahoma to Colorado for no less than 3 family counseling sessions. Also attached to the letter was a questionnaire that they needed to fill out. It had questions on it like… Did Kari prefer boy toys over girl toys when growing up… Did Kari wear men's clothing over women's?

We sent it through the US Mail. I knew dad would get it before mom because of their work schedules. I guess dad got the letter, read it, hid it so my mom wouldn't find it, sat in his chair and got real pissed about it. Finally after dinner, he took that letter out and handed it to my mom. I can't imagine what he was thinking. Mom said she read it and had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't laugh. She finished the letter… sat it down on the table and just waited for dad to explode. And then… "What the fuck are we going to do with these kids Mary Anne?" (I guess they bailed my brother out of jail the weekend before)… my mom couldn't take it anymore and burst out in laughter. "What's so fucking funny?"

She took him by the hand and led him to the calendar. April 1^st was just a day away. He marched his butt to the computer and typed THIS one line email… "You are a sorry excuse for a human being and I no longer consider you my child"

I got that email and LAUGHED! I called him. OOOOOH he was NOT happy with me (you know in a joking not happy kind of way).. I got his ass good!

To this day… I watch my back on April Fools day. Never know when he will try to top that!

~Peace

Hang on Emmett!

March 29, 2006 - Wednesday

Hang on Emmett!

About 8 years ago I went home to Oklahoma to spend some quality time with my family. My folks live in Tulsa, and my sister drove up from my hometown, Woodward, with her kids. We mostly hung out around my Mom's house, but one sunny afternoon, the kids were a bit restless, so we decided to take them to a nearby park for some fun in the sun and kite flying.

We all loaded up in the car and drove a few blocks over to a wonderful park that had all kinds of playground equipment, a beautiful fountain, and plenty of open space to fly kites. It was a perfect day to let the kids blow off some pent up energy.

My mom, sister, and I had not all been together in quite some time. We found a picnic table to relax around and proceeded to gab away while watching the fellas fly their new kites. It was amazing. We laughed and talked and laughed and talked some more.

Riley, one of my nephews came over and said that he needed to go to the bathroom. There was a typical park restroom available you know the kind basically a port-a-potty with a brick building around it.

Well, Riley came out stating that there was no toilet paper and he really needed some. My mom and sister starting digging through their purses and finally came up with something suitable to use. Riley finished up and ran off to play.

And now for the backwoods, redneck, Jed Clampett, part of my story

We continued on chatting and that's when it happened. A woman of small stature with a pair of daisy dukes and a tube top, came dragging her snot nosed, toe-headed, dirty son up to the wanna be restrooms. We just kind of looked at each other, but proceeded on with our giggles and stories.

And then

From behind us came the worst southern drawl, yelling "Hang on Emmett!". We turned to see what she was yellin' about and that's when we saw it Emmett was hanging out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles and his mother was stomping over to a very small tree with very small leaves.

She proceeded to run her hand down a branch and managed to pull off several of the barely existent leaves. I was thinking Oh no she did-unt! She then took those leaves to her small child for him to do his business. By that time my sister, mom and myself were about to pee our pants. It was so damned funny!

Soon enough the men folk started to wander over our way and we told them the story. I thought my step-dad was going to have a heart attack from the laughter. And to top it off, when we left, the Emmett family was leaving too and they were parked right behind us. Remember the truck from the Beverly Hillbillies?

Yep you guessed it that was their truck. We all got in the car and laughed all the way home to this day if one of us says Hang on Emmett, it is sure to get a good belly laugh.

~peace

My boy is gonna go blind…

March 26, 2006 - Sunday

When my son was about to turn 10 he came to me and specifically asked for a Playboy magazine. Being the liberal parent that I am, I said ABSOLUTELY not. Then after some careful consideration and the fact that he didn't ask for the ever so famous "Debbie Does Dallas" porno, and some carefully chosen verbiage with his mother, I decided What the hell! Of course I didn't tell him my decision… I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.

The big day finally arrived. We were going out to dinner with the family. I got off work a bit late and I had to swing by the local liquor store to purchase my sons very first Playboy. I arrived to the dinner a few minutes late. I do have some couth, so I didn't whip it out in front of his grandparents, Aunt, Uncle, or cousins… I eagerly waited until the drive home.

We were in separate vehicles. He rode with his mom. I pulled up beside them and stuck the magazine to the window. I swear to God I have never seen eyes get that big. Who knew your eyes could quadruple in size? I am pretty sure he told his mom to floor it so he could get home quicker.

The details of what he did with the magazine are still unclear because there are some things a parent knows happens, but those things are better left fuzzy. I don't wanna know!

For the next 2 years he kept asking me to get him another one because he was tired of the same old pictures. I told him one was enough.

And then…

Two weeks ago… I am on the computer reading blogs, his mom is in the bedroom watching T.V. and Alex is running in and out of the house. I got up from the computer to go check on Robin and to see what Alex was up to. He was being too quiet.

This is how it was played out…

ME… (seeing that Alex had something spread out on his bed) What are you doing?

HIM… (excited as hell with a big ass grin on his face) Look at all of these!!

ME… What are they?

HIM… Playboys!! A bunch of them!!

ME… Where in the hell did you get all of those?

HIM… Ernie.

ME… Our elderly next door neighbor GAVE you dirty magazines? I am going to kill him!!

HIM… No, wait… they were out by his trash can. They were all in bundles.

ME… Ernie just threw away all of those? Did he see you taking them?

HIM… Yes he threw them away… and no he didn't see me taking them.

ME… ROBIN! Did you see what our son got?

ROBIN… I don't even want to know.

ME… Put them up. Your mom doesn't need the heart attack.

For the next few hours, he and his buddy from the neighborhood hauled those magazines in old suitcases back and forth to each others houses in Alex's wagon. They were trading them. I guess they have about a hundred between them.

I finally made him put them up.

But here is my favorite part…

So, I am sitting in my chair reading blogs, and he comes and sits on the arm of my chair with 2 magazines in tow. He is flipping through the pages and I am glancing over every once in a while to check out the articles…hehehe.

These magazines are from the 80's. Alex is making some strange disgusted like noises. I ask him what the problem is… he says… didn't they have razors in the 80's? I said of course they did. He then proceeded to say… DON'T YOU THINK THEY SHOULD HAVE USED THEM????

I pushed him off my chair.

God I love that boy.

~Peace

Knowin what they’re doin…

March 26, 2006 - Sunday

If you don't already read her blog, you should!

Nina is funny as hell, but she also brings up some issues that make you think. This morning, she was ranting on a few issues in her RANT blog, and it got me to thinking. I didn't want to write a small novel in the comment section of her blog, so I came to my own to respond. I would definitely recommend reading her rant on the teenager who died in Aruba before continuing on with my blog.

Nina Writes:

"Again, I'm not blaming the victim, but maybe family, friends, and the media shouldn't be so afraid to point out the the mistakes these young girls made that contributed to their deaths. We should be able to talk about it so that maybe, just maybe, it will help the young girls that are still here. Like my daughter, and yours."

And then later writes in the comments section of her own blog:

"Kali doesn't know it yet, but I'm going on spring break with her."

So, here are my thoughts

I adamantly think that we should be educating the world on what happened in all of these horrific instances. That is why I am so hard on my son most of the time. I want his choices to be thought through. I try to make everything about choices. From the smallest thing for instance last night we were ordering Pizza, he didn't want Pizza. The choice was, Pizza or Peanut Butter and Jelly, or he didn't eat. Simple choice.

Or the harder decisions like this Alex is a very entrepreneurial boy. He can make a lot of money when he sets his mind to it and like any other 12 year old, it burns a hole in his pocket so quick. When he wants to make any purchase (other than a small candy item) we make him think about it for a while. The time we make him think on it ranges from a couple of days to a few weeks. We all know that kids who want something will buy it then be sorry later that they didn't wait cuz they just found this other really cool thing.

Here is where I get the most strange looks and arguments when it comes to how we raise our son.

Alex is allowed to cuss. Has been able to since he was 10. He is not allowed to say Fuck or Cunt, and he is NOT allowed to cuss at any parental unit.

Alex plays video games up to and including Vice City. BUT, he is not allowed to play that particular game without me or his mom in the house and without express permission. If I catch him playing it without the requirements met he loses the whole gaming station for a said period of time.

Alex got caught smoking - His punishment came from not the act of smoking, but from not being able to say no. He told us that he really didn't want to smoke, but that his cousin pressured him into it. We made his bad choice the reason we punished him, not the act. Hell all kids will try smoking or drinking. So now he knows (because he spent two laboring weeks pulling weeds) that he has the right to say no.

Alex has 43 Playboys That is my next blog cuz it is funny as hell!

Alex has a Cell Phone I know where he is and who he is with at all times.

My point to all of this is I know what my son is doing, saying, watching, who he is with, and what he is into. ALL PARENTS NEED TO DO THIS. I am not saying do it my way. But know what your kids are up to. If you know your kids they will be less likely to end up dead in Aruba, or behind a bar in NYC.

~Peace

Communication…Shaaaamunication…

March 14, 2006 - Tuesday

A wise person once said… although I have no idea who this wise person is… that communication is the first thing you should build in a relationship. I am here to say… that's BULLSHIT! I have been in several relationships and I am definitely NOT saying that communication is not important… to the contrary, communication is vital to a healthy relationship! BUT, it is not the FIRST thing you should build… wanna know what IS the first thing you should build???

**Pauses for dramatic effect.............................**

**Drumrollllllllll**

The DOG HOUSE… this is especially true for men/butches in a relationship. And it better be good! You see, when you have one of those moments that communication is failing you, then you better have some place to go that will keep you warm, safe, comfortable, and entertained until said sour communication has been resolved. (For those of you who ride the short bus, that would mean… "she is not mad at you anymore")

Picture this… A one story shed, strategically placed in your backyard so that it is just out of reach of the average woman's throwing distance. This Dog House should be supplied with at least the following items. Add to them if you are really desperate, but these should suffice in a "normal" communication difficulty.

• One Single sized bed – we don't want room for anyone else. Lord knows we would need a whole new house for the trouble that would get us in if you know what I mean…
• One Television – It should be a comfortable viewing size. You wouldn't want to strain your eyes after a communication difficulty.
• One gaming system – This is a personal preference… no advice here on that one.
• One small refrigerator (stocked) – You aren't moving in for a lifetime, but you need enough to last a few nights.
• One stereo system – This needs to be loud enough to wake the dead. Or at least for me it does. Drowns out the screaming witch in the house – oh shit! Did I say that outloud?
• A couple of changes of clothes – wouldn't want to be a nasty ass when you went crawling back to her would you?
• A phone line of your own – This could be a life saving device if she decides that your life should end anytime soon.

OK, so there are the necessities. Add to them if you would like.

P.S. This is also a place that you can go to hide from the kids when you would like to get a decent video game going without their "help".

~Peace

Happy Period?!?!? WTF?...

March 5, 2006 - Sunday

So, ALWAYS has a new slogan.... "Have a happy period." Unfuckingbelievable is all I have to say to that. I haven't had the pleasure (said in most sarcastic voice) of having a period in 5 years, but I am pretty sure it is much like riding a bicycle ... you never forget... and I damn sure don't recall it being a HAPPY time of the month. Not for me, or anyone around me!

As a matter of fact, my partner Robin, said that she was going to kill the motherfucker who thought up that wonderful slogan. I actually visited their website. I am not sure that I would be in the mood for all that "happy" crap during that time of the month, and definately not in the mood to play around on a pad website - ever reminding me that I am on the damn rag!

I just thought it was funny... so take a look if you want too... I am sure they at least appreciate the "hits" to the site.

~peace out

I Think My Son is Straight...

January 27, 2006 = I Think My Son is Straight....

Whoa is me… where did I go wrong… what the hell did I do to deserve this???? Wait a second… maybe it will all be just fine. After all, I do have a couple of straight friends and my parents are straight. They all seem to be pretty decent human beings.

Seriously people… I think it is absolutely hilarious when people find out that I am a Lesbian. The first words are usually something akin to… "Oh, My uncle is gay" or "I had a friend in High School that was gay" or even better yet, "I am totally okay with you being gay."

To that I would have to say… who gives a shit if you have a gay friend, uncle, cousin, or that you are okay with it. I don’t recall ever referring to my straight friends or family members when I find out someone is straight.. LOL! That is until I started in with my smart ass comments when someone tells me that they have a gay friend when I tell them I am a Lesbian. Now I make sure to return their snippets… for example:

"I have a Lesbian aunt and I am completely okay with that."… my response… "Really? Well my parents are straight and I am completely okay with it!.

I guess… without getting on a high horse… what I am trying to say is that being Gay or Lesbian should just be normal… it shouldn’t just be a thing that we are "okay" with. I am not naïve… I know that there will always be a stigma and there will always be prejudices just like with people of other nationalities or races. I just hope that one day God will find a way to put peace in all of our hearts.

By the way.. I am so extremely proud of my son! It doesn’t matter to me what his preference turns out to be… I just need for him to be healthy, happy, and blessed.

Peace out people!

Poker Addiction...

January 26, 2006 = Poker Addiction...

I am at a loss for something witty to write tonight… so I thought I would write about my addiction and my favorite poker win ever!

Back in December (the 18^th to be exact… I remember this because it was my birthday…) we went down to Cortez, Colorado. There is an Indian Casino out there and they have a whopping 2 poker tables. The lead up to this could take a million years, so I will make a long story short.

I was in the Big Blind… 5 bucks already committed to the pot… I was dealt a 6 and 7 of spades… A suited connector… my weakness. The first and second to act folded. The next to act raised the max of 5 bux. I was in for 5 already so I called after a few other calls and folds.

The flop (first 3 cards) were dealt. I was in complete shock to see the 3, 4 and 5 of spades. That made a straight flush!!! The first to act bet 5, the next to act raised 5… it was 10 for me to call… but I raised another 5… the other 2 people in the hand called.

I can’t even remember what the turn card was… but it didn’t matter. The betting went the exact same… 5, raise 5, reraise 5.

The River was another card that didn’t matter. The betting… 5… raise 5… reraise 5… and then raised 2 more times. I was thinking that the first to act probably had the Ace and something else of spades and the 2^nd to act probably had some lower spades but couldn’t lay them down.

The dealer called for us to turn over our hole cards. The guy with the Ace couldn’t wait to turn over his cards… the 2^nd to act had a King and some other spade.

I said "Boys… you are gonna love this!" , flipped over my straight flush and raked in the $120 pot. It was beautiful!!

Now I get to go play pool… another favorite of mine and I am in a league. Have a good one my friends!!

Is there a 12 Step program for dogs....

January 23, 2006 - Is there a 12 Step program for dogs....

Andy (our Springer Spaniel stupid ass dog) has taken on an uncanny/un-natural fetish of a 6 inch by 3 inch stuffed blue bear. Now I am sure a dogs life is anything but interesting, so having something that makes his life a little interesting is not necessarily a bad thing, but THIS has gone too far! Let me give you a glimpse into what I am talking about, a mental picture so to speak:

We leave the dogs outside while we are at work. When we come home, we usually find some place to dump the amazing amounts of crap that we haul to and from work on a daily basis. Then it is time to let the "kids" in… we have 3 dogs, so it is usually a herd of happiness when they come through the door.

Andy will usually give us about 2.2 seconds of his precious puppy time before he is on the prowl for "blue bear". He runs through the rooms of the house to locate his prize possession, which is usually, just a little less than light speed. Robin and I usually settle in to our chairs to watch Dr. Phil, and before we are even all the way comfortable, Andy has chosen his human victim to play his version of fetch with. If we don’t automatically start to play, Andy will tactically position blue bear on the chair beside us, place his snout on top and look up at us with those big brown, sad, puppy dog eyes.

After 1 million tosses, I have had my fill and start in trying to get the simple, tiny word NO, to sink into his head. He will eventually get the picture and you can almost hear the painful sigh as he lays down on the floor with his head rested gently on top of bear.

That’s all you ask? Oh how I wish that was all… I have witnessed on more than one occasion, my stupid dog, lying upon his back… trying with all his might to balance, (since his tail is wagging a hundred miles an hour) with blue bear rested between his almost human like paws. He will bring the bear very close to his mouth and snap at it and then pull the bear back into the air to tease himself. Pretty amazing and funny as hell!!

1… We admitted we were powerless over blue bear and our lives had become unmanageble.

2… …

I am sure there is help out there somewhere, but until then, we will continue the daily ritual and laugh our asses off.