dogs, baseball, fish, and sisters.

the dogs are healing nicely.
jackass was sleepy all day yesterday and his incision aint pretty.
harley's teeth were actually clean already (so said the vet tech),
but his breath is WONDERFUL now!!
wahoo!!
...wonder how long that'll last?

because of jackass,
i couldn't go to Flotown this weekend.
gotta keep a close eye on him.
sucks too,
because alex's baseball games started this weekend.
in the words of dorothy,
"this is one of those times where you've got to pretend to love your kids..."

our fish tank is beginning to turn green again.
guess i'll clean it out again,
and start from scratch AGAIN.
hey, we got about 3 to 4 weeks this time.

so my 15 year old sister got into a minor fender bender
in front of a certain red antique house in Florence.
no coincidences, right?

well my Mama talks to a relative of my step mom's,
who tells her all about my 21 year old sister.
apparently she can't talk to me because she doesn't know her head from her ass.

then i happen to see her myspace header,
and it says "rip mommy & daddy"
my bp shot the hell up.

i am so hurt, mad, and down right angry at her.
i mean, wtf,
i can see her true colors now.
just like dad didn't think much of me,
she doesn't either.
screw that.

and ya know,
its not about the money.
i never had it,
so it makes no damn difference to me that i'm not gonna have it.
but shit.


this makes me question her integrity and sincerity
all these years when we tried to be friends.
her actions (rather, lack thereof) as of now
make me think she only had something to do with me while they were alive
just to spite them,
not because she actually cared.
i'm just another expendable piece of shit to her,
just like dad thought of me.

all i know as of now,
is that i am hurt that she has ostrasized me for whatever reason she could possibly have.


she has burned this bridge.

just like he did.

update.

today is baby's one year birthday!!
aww.
seems like a damn lie.
on the 6th, he gets his balls chopped off.
happy birthday, son!!

my back has decided it is time to flake out again.
the wondrous joys of being incapable of standing up alone are phenominal!!

the trip home to florence was GREAT!!
we got to see matt but not ashes.
i wish we'd gotten to see her too.
my family is (psycho, but) great.
my brothers are too damn old.
gawd, let's not start on my sister!!

on sunday i checked the level in our tank,
which did clear up somewhat.
the water did soften up,
but the nitrate/nitrite levels were SKY HIGH,
and the PH was still above 7.6.
so i did do another round of the easy balance.
right now its just milky,
but hey, anything's better than neon green!!

i must retire to mah lazy boy,
with a stinky breath dog,
because my back is hurting again.

and because i am a shameless puppy mommy,
i dutifully instruct you to look HERE.

ॐ

sleep deprivation shall not get the better of me!!
slimy bastard.

/sigh.

on the up and up,
i am excited about going home today.

our fish tank.
goddess bless it.
what is that prayer the christians say?
something to the effects of:

"God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other."

yea well, i may not be a christian,
but damn, i could sure use that montra to aide me in my aquarium woes.

ramblings, part deux.

much to the m-i-l and lovey's dismay,
kitty-kitty is here to stay.
for an avid dog lover i sure have grown quite fond of her.
yes.
i am a proud cat owner.
(its only a corner of hell that hath frozeth over.)

i am PMSing like crazy,
which has me all sentimental and crappola.
time to confess,
i have this secret addiction online...
i have a...certain...genre of blogs that i read daily.
and reading them in this time of month really isn't healthy.
its like carousing target when you only have $2 in cash,
payday is in 5 days, and you're almost outta gas.
its really isn't condusive.
yet there i am,
daily, the lesbian parenting blog addict that i am.
actually to be specific,
i am totally mesmerized by lesbians who are TTC.
the daily documentation of it all...
is so amazingly beautiful.

lovey says she doesn't want children.
part of me can understand that because of her...*ahem*
"years of wisdom".
but then there is a part of me that is drawn to it blindly.
like the sea turtles innately drawn back to the shore on which they were birthed.
the moon guides them.
i'm sure they don't know nor understand why they return to the same shores,
they just go where their bodies lead them.
and my body tells me that one day i''ll be a mommy.
i hope like crazy that lovey will choose to partake in that,
because truthfully,
i think that we would make an amazing little family.
there is nothing more in this entire world that she could do to make me more happy than making a family with me.

she's so cute when she gets frustrated with harley & jackson
(and yes, i realize that dogs are vastly different than children,
but romantasize with me and go with the flow).
us in our quiet, quaint little country home,
dogs, and (now) a kitty-kitty,...
i can't think of anything to better complete my life or my life with lovey.

now don't misconstrue what i am saying,
i dont wish to run out there to look for a baby daddy so lovey and i can be mommies by next year, no.
first comes school,
maturity,
then so forth.
i've often heard that if you wait until you're financially ready for a baby,
then it'll never happen.
i just hope against all hopes that lovey will choose to remain by my side for this when the time is right.

anyways,...
for now we have a fish tank that we (hopefully) have found the CORRECT solution to fixing.
i swear, that thing has me feelin dumber than f. gump himself.

i'm super excited about the remaining part of this week.
we get to see mason,
and we are going home to florence!!
i'm SO excited about that.
i miss my family something fierce.
i know lovey gets all flustered with all the chaos,
but i love it.
i know i'm home when i hear the boys yelling and carrying on.
(albeit that damn dog can go to hell.)
we're gonna get to see my friends, and family.
woohoo!!

i'm sleepy, so i'm going to bed.
peace out, whores.

ramblings.

i am so tired today.
i don't know why,
because my fat ass sat around all day until it was time for me to go meet my teacher at school.

/sigh.

we are going home this weekend.
yay!!
i can't wait.
i'm missing my family.
while we're there,
we're gonna get to see some of my friends.
i LOVE my friends,
they ROCK!!

honey made a horrid egg salad today without forwarning me.
that was just WRONG.
i opened the fridge and thought i was gonna barf right there.
that shit smells god awful.
i'd rather smell a pig's fart.
yuck.

i cant wait to get my hair did.
cut & color this time.
woohoo!!

anyways i cant think of anything else to say,
so i'm out like a queen at a Bette Midler concert.

to my bella.

more than you'll ever know.


I know living with me ain't always easy
I dam up emotions some men just let flow
But girl when you're not by my side I feel a part of me has died
'Cause I love you more than you'll ever know

More than life more than I've ever loved before
It's absurd and beyond words
I couldn't want you more
And when I try to pour my hear out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know

I'm sure you've heard it said hearts have windows
But mine has doors a painful past has closed
Unless someday they open wide revealing feelings locked inside
I'll love you more than you'll ever know

More than life more than I've ever loved before
It's absurd and beyond words
I couldn't want you more
And when I try to pour my hear out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know

Even when I pour my heart out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know
Yes I love you more than you'll ever know

state of grace.

ah, what can i say?
i did a lil gardening,
a lil shopping,
a lotta procrastinating,...
and i feel better.
about damn time.
one weenie's losin his balls,
while the other (hopefully) is losing the shit breath.
all on the same day.
goddess help me,
i'm not gonna know what to think or what to do
with a weenie free house.
gah.
tonight i had to do the strangest thing.
i've come to realize that my dad's mom won't write the letter
to the coroner requesting the toxicology report.
so i did it.
it felt SO ODD to write the following:

"My name is Sarah F. Anderson, and I am the eldest biological daughter of Richard R. Anderson. My father was killed, alongside his wife (Terry Anderson), on December 26th, 2007.
I am requesting a copy of my father’s toxicology report, as I am curious as to what his blood alcohol level was at his TOD."

odd as shit.
just looking at the words typed on my computer screen,
then thinking about the action itself...
i'm writing to the coroner for my genetic donor's toxicology report.

i think part of me has concluded
that i am glad i wasn't close to him,
because i'd really be losin my sanity right now if i was.

after a self imposed week long break from all that hate filled chaos,
i called to check in on her.
i think she thrives on the pain.
maybe its because that's the only thing she can feel.
people can get addicted to pain.
i don't know.
theories abound,
no concrete evidence to prove otherwise.

right now, i am okay.
i am surrounded by my loved ones, friends, and family.
living in my own state of grace.

googlie bear.

so i'm getting a lil better.
i dropped my Bio 101.
i didn't want to do that,
but in that particular class,
memorization is a pivotal point of succeeding that class.
especially with the grade that i strive for.
and with all this SHIT going on inside my head,
it just is not possible right now for me to devote the necessary time to the class.
my doctor complied with my wishes about elevating my medication's dosage.
my side effect is a toned down version of tourette's jerking/spasms/ticks.
i can feel it so it feels very obvious to me,
but another person can't really see it...
so atleast i don't look too Corky-ish.
i am in the process of finding a suitable, sane therapist for my much needed counseling sessions.
patience.
you know, i am coming to realize that relationships are an amazing thing.
obviously it can apply to romantic (relationships),
it can apply to familial and friendship relationships.
i am so unbelievably grateful and appreciative of my wife.
she has soothed my soul during this hard time
in ways i cannot even begin to describe.
i know without a doubt, unequivocally that i am loved by that lady.
my love and appreciation for her runs so deep into me that it flows through my soul.
my friends,...
friends who have been there from the start of it all...
it is those friends who i hold most dear.
it is those friends who have willingly and selflessly provided warmth and compassion to me during this time.
true friends are hard to come by in the god forsaken world in which we habitate.
i am blessed to be able to say that i have quite a few of those,
and not only that,
but i have friends who've been there for years and years on end.
people who love you don't restrict you or push you down.
they accept you for who and what you are and only want the best for you in life.
i have all of that.
i don't know what i did in my past life to have deserved this,
but it must've been great.
thank you to whomever is up there.
thank you for my life,
for my love,
my family,
my friends,
...and begrudgingly,...
my dogs.

progress.

doing better.

yay!!

looking forward to this weekend.

friends know how to make ya heart smile.

air.

god bless reba.

thank goddess.
i FEEL it.
good emotion.
i was scared i wouldn't be able to find it soon.
let the healing begin.
i can feel it inside out.

"love revival,"
"beautiful disaster,"
and "how blue."

wonder years.

remember back in the wonder years,
in our childhood,
the tilt-a-whirl rides at the fair?
that's what it feels like.
the world is spinning just a lil bit too fast for me,
and has me somewhat disoriented.
i just want it to slow down,
just to get my balance.
the realization is that it won't.
yada yada yada "the world aint gonna stop for my broken heart."
this is change,
and change is never ending.
from beneath the murky waters,
i can see the hands reaching in to pull me up.
pulling me up for a breath of air,
for life.
i don't understand this darkness.
i don't like it and wish for it to vanish.

i am dazed and confused.
humans sustain life by performing behavior patterns.
in a sense, it can be deduced that to have a pattern is to have life.
even down to an atom,
a strand of mitochondrial dna...
its all patterns.
and as ocd as i am when it comes to patterns,
i cannot find that pattern of stable footing.

so many thoughts...
am i being too hard on myself?
am i using this as a crutch?
am i too happy about this?
am i too disapointed?
is my anger correctly placed?

in a way, i feel alone, but in a way i don't.
no side of either family gets my position.
one submerged in denial and the other in resentment (and rightly so in the latter).
my honey has not left my side,
holding my hand,
and lending an ear.


joe cocker springs up in my ear,
and i think its the perfect way to end this blog.


With A Little Help From My Friends
(Lennon/McCartney)

WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I SANG OUT OF TUNE
WOULD YOU STAND UP AND WALK OUT ON ME
LEND ME YOUR EARS AND I'LL SING YOU A SONG
I WILL TRY NOT TO SING OUT OF KEY

I GET BY WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
I JUST KEEP TRYING WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
I WANT TO GET HIGH WITH MY FRIENDS
I JUST HOLD ON WITH MY FRIENDS

WHAT DO I DO WHEN MY LOVE IS AWAY
(DOES IT WORRY YOU TO BE ALL ALONE)
HOW DO I FEEL BY THE END OF THE DAY
(ARE YOU SAD BECAUSE YOUR ON YOUR OWN)


CHORUS

(DO YOU NEED ANY BODY)
I NEED SOME BODY TO LOVE
(DO YOU NEED ANY BODY)
ALL I NEED IS SOMEONE TO LOVE


CHORUS

(WOULD YOU BELEIVE IN A LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT)
I'M CERTAIN IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME
(WHAT DO YOU SEE WHEN YOU TURN OFF THE LIGHTS)
I DON'T SEE MUCH

CHORUS

(DO YOU NEED ANYBODY)
I NEED SOMEBODY TO LOVE)
ALL I NEED IS SOMEBODY TO LOVE

CHORUS

composing grace.

its like a parasite, really.
it keeps sucking and sucking until there's nothing left.
i wish it'd just go ahead and damnit just die.
die like him.
i hate that i am in mourning for a monster.
i fucking hate that.
i even hate mourning that two bit trash he called his wife.
i feel like harry in that one scene where lord voldemort sucks the soul out of harry with his wand,
the scene where that white light comes up and out of harry.
it kinda feels like that.
but in slow motion.

i keep referring back to my tat on my back.
"strength."
i previously thought i embodied that notion.
but this...
this situation has brought me to my knees on the inside.
if i was still a kid,
this would be when i merely wiped the dirt off my knees and ass and got up to carry on with the damn thing.
but here there is no dirt.
i wish the memories were dirt,
so that they could blow away like a desert sand storm.
blown away into oblivion to never be recalled upon.

i know in my heart going to the funeral was the right thing to do.
i was supposed to have done that.
i told myself i was rising above the past,
that this was right.
my presense was right.
but i also know in my heart,
that had the roles been reversed,
he wouldn't have shown his face at mine.
that pride.
it can do funny things to a man.

i can't say that i now feel like an orphan,
because i have steve.
but the one man that i pined for,
i pined for his love,
his affection,...
he is gone.
what a coward that mighty lion was when he tried to drive home that night.
but it will be somewhere in this day,
here,
now,
somewhere here where i will find that strength.
no man behind a curtain will tempt me with false closure,
for there is no "see-all" and "be-all" in this universe.
but in this place i call home,
i will garner my weakened strength on my own,
somewhere in this state of grace.

"its the weak made strong,
its finding what you're missing,
was right there all along,
its an open road,
to a better place,
its a life worth living,
in the state of grace."

weenies.

i highly suspect that weenie dog numero deux
has committed a highly foul offense,
because his recent cuddly behavior strikes me odd.
his fierce independence has always kept him preoccupied
from providing kissy kissies to mommy number one.

but i shamefully regret to inform you
that our suspisions of chiweenie-butt hiding in the closet were true.
now understand, that as his puppy mommy,
my unconditional love for him does not end at his coming out.
it ends at his incestuous desires to make mad weenie love to his brother.
he will be undergoing a psych eval and treatment from the finest facility SC has to offer.
the family is requesting privacy in this dark and highly personal tragedy.

lunacy.

i have diagnosed myself with a stomach ulcer.
WebMD works wonders for hypercondriacs.
though i shamefully admit to being one,
this...this one is real.
spasms.
crippling spasms.
that reminds me,
i need to go buy that hypercondriac book for a certain aunt of mine.

so jack ass is being cuddly.
he is not a cuddly dog.
harley is a cuddly dog.
his fetch games and kisses are tempting me to say
perhaps he has the "mama's boy" trait in him after all.

i have a grandmother who is not fairing well,
and an adopted grandfather who is not either.
i also have a Mawmaw who's
"side is still buldging,
but its okay as long as you can still bitch about it."
(per her dearly departed sister.)
ah, the southern lady.
there's nothing quite like that unique poignant grace.

trying.

i don't know why,
but i am slipping.
the ground's not so stable under my feet.
i don't want to be depressed about him.
he doesn't deserve it.
nowhere to go but forward.

don't be hatin.

i have the best, most cuddly,
snoodle bug, snoodley butt,
foofy foo, tator tot, pookie,
darlin, honey, sugah pie,
honey pot, googley goo,
and googley bear EVER.

EVER.

hallmark be damned.

i hate hallmark movies, i really do.
so what did i do tonight?
i watched the one i recorded on our DVR.
The Russell Girl was good.
your everyday standard, tear jerker Hallmark movie.
the summation is:

Everyone in Sarah Russell’s small hometown knows her story, but no one is talking about it. Sarah, the picture-perfect girl-next-door, took a job in Chicago thinking she could escape memories of a tragic accident she blames on herself. But when she receives some unsettling news, Sarah decides to return home and try to heal old wounds.

As understanding and support come from unexpected sources, Sarah’s story becomes a journey toward forgiveness and hope for the future.

the story has its similarities.
a bit unsettling, actually.
she pushes what she needs and wants away because she doesn't think she deserves it.
she thinks she's unworthy.
she thinks her cancer is the product of karma for what happened.
that's interesting to me.
if that line of thinking proves true,
then was that tree and the windshield karma for my father?
everything that he caused over the decades to certain specific individuals,
all the pain and heartache that has lasted for decades,
is all that supposed to be erased and righted by the tree and the windshield?
i try my best to not dwell on this thing,
as i have truly lost nothing.
but it keeps finding its way to the forefront of my thoughts.
all the lies,
all the deception,
the pain,
the hurt,
the anger,
the disapointments,...
i am sorry, but that tree and that windshield just cannot undo all that he created.
granted, the asshole can't create anymore pain and decadence for anyone,
but still.
they are not magical erasers.
there are no do overs in this life.
there are second chances,...
and third and fourth and fifth...
but when you make an discerning conscious decision to ignore and/or refuse those chances,
then does that make one ignorant or "just plain stupid"?
addicts cannot reap their given chances for help.
greed was his addiction.
and pride.
he didn't care what it cost him in life,
but what it cost him was his life.

reba and kelly, ellis and obama.

Where do I begin?!

First of all, I wish to extend my deepest thanks and never ending appreciation to Joey for his amazing generosity.
Words cannot express the depths of my gratitude.
Your gifts will never be forgotten.

Everything has its place and time, so they say.
This adage could not have been truer on the day of January 25, 2008.

After being totally and completely entranced by the "Reba room,"
a tank of gas, a quick stop at the Huddle House to check up on
Billy, we were on our way to Winston-Salem North Carolina for
our fifth row "Reba & Kelly Clarkson, 2 Worlds 2 Voices TOUR 2008."

On the ride up there, hell for that matter, the entire time, we were
the biggest most *psychotic* fanatical Reba dorks around.

After a scary ride through the ghetto, and *stalking* observing the
tour buses, we settled upon an IHOP for food. Then it was back
across the street to the convention center.

There were two radio DJ booths in front of the convention center
for the early birds, like us. At the first booth, was a raffle that we
entered to win random prizes, including backstage passes. But the drawing would be at seven,
and we were not about to stand in the 35° weather for about 40 minutes, so back to the car we went.

However, on the way back to the car we heard the second radio
DJ announce their contest for backstage passes. We looked at
each other and made a beeline for that booth. Turns out it was a
karaoke contest. They would play a few seconds of part of a
Reba song, turn the song off, and you had to sing as much as you
could, getting the lyrics correct. Well I knew that this would not
be a problem, as the two of us happened to be the biggest Reba
dorks either side of the Mason Dixon.

The lady in front of us had the song Fancy,… which everybody
knows. But what did she do? She BOMBED it. Like, seriously. This
woman should be ashamed to call herself a Reba fan.

Then Joey gets up there. His random song was Little Rock. My
friends, this is a 1986 release. To no surprise, he nailed it. And I
mean that he nailed it like Tommy Lee nailed Pamela Anderson. I
was standing about 3 to 5 feet in front of him screaming the lyrics
along with him like a damn fool. And what happens next? Wham
bam, thank ya ma'am...he wins us backstage passes to meet Reba.

Little did we know, that we would also be meeting Kelly as well.

Though he had me beat on the number of Reba concerts
attended, this would be my second time meeting a Reba, his first.
You can only imagine the sheer pandemonium that followed.


Fast forwarding… Reba is as beautiful as she was in person in '97.
No I take that back, more beautiful. And good goddess, Kelly is
smokin. The thighs on her…could make me believe in God. There
is no better high than meeting the Reba in person. None.


So let me fast forward a little bit more... the concert was
phenomenal. Only the truest of Reba fans who have attended her
concerts in recent years would know that her voice just can't hit
the notes that it once could. But my dears, Kelly brought out the
best in Reba. Mrs. McEntire once again has managed to resurrect
the emotion and the heartiness back into her concerts. The
concert left you lacking for nothing. It can be said that this
particular concert can be undoubtedly compared to the Reba
concert circa the 1990s. It was simply amazing.

(Pictures will be posted at a later time,
as I have a Bio 101 test tomorrow that I have failed to study for.
Yeah, I know. Boo on me.

"Oh wait, what was I busy doing, you ask? Oh I was having a little
pow-wow time with mah buddies Reba and Kelly Clarkson. What
were YOU doing? Yeah, that's what I thought.")

Needless to say, when I crawled into my bed at 3:30 a.m., I was
one happy tired little white girl.

Now, I must do some bragging on my twin brothers. On Saturday
they were in Columbia to go to the zoo when they stopped in at
Harpers restaurant for a bite to eat. Who walks in? Barack
Obama. Yeah. Ellis was the one who spoke to Obama. He even
made it on NBC Nightly News. That is the national news, yall.
Then, a reporter from the Boston Globe interviewed him.
Underneath this is the story. (However, the picture is Ellis's REINACTMENT of the face Obama made when Ellis
asked him the question he asked.)

I am the happiest girl in the world.

Peace and Love,
Sarah.



Obama gives diners a lunch rush

Email|Link|Comments (0) Posted by Scott Helman, Political Reporter January 26, 2008 03:06 PM




COLUMBIA, S.C. -- On today's lunch menu: Soup, salad, and Barack Obama.

Diners at Harper's Restaurant just off Columbia's downtown got a special visit
today from Obama, who was making a final pitch for votes as South Carolina
Democrats went to the polls. He spent about a half-hour greeting the lunch
and brunch crowd, stopping by nearly every table to pose for photographs
and exchange pleasantries.

"I might get to shake hands with the future president!" one woman said
excitedly into her cell phone as Obama arrived. As Obama began to work his
way around the room, he approached a family gathered around a big table and
said, "How's it going, everybody?" Then he grabbed a white napkin off their
table and wiped his hands. "I got a little juice on me," he said.

Beverly Wilburn, a cook at the restaurant, came out of the kitchen to greet
him. "You got my vote," she told him. "All right." Asked if she had voted yet,
Wilburn said, "As soon as I get off of work."

But Obama didn't have it so easy with Ellis and Alex Caulkins, precocious 12-
year-old twins from Florence, S.C. "Hey, Obama, what are you going to do
about foreign policy?" Ellis asked, telling Obama he didn't seem to be making
many campaign promises. Obama reiterated his vow to get American troops
out of Iraq, then asked the twin boys what they were doing today. Ellis
explained that they were headed to Riverbanks Zoo and Garden in Columbia.
"That sounds fun," Obama said, before the boys' grandfather pulled them away.
"Let's go eat, boys, time to eat," he said.

Back at his table, Ellis said he wasn't satisfied with Obama's answer, but
admitted he had something of an agenda. "I don't want another Democrat," he
said, professing admiration for Rudy Giuliani and John McCain. "We have
enough of them."

Fortunately for Obama, Ellis will be at the zoo today, not at a polling place.

·

fucking pets.

the pain is so intense.
i hate when it gets like this;
cold + rainy.
arthiritis and tendonitis are bitches from bush's asshole.

i am doing an absolutely fabulous job at procrastinating to study for my Bio test.
i just can't seem to get the "get up and go" required to do well in school this semester.
i dunno why.
this shit is taking FOREVER.
and i'm not even halfway done.

rosie got a new puppy.
a 2.5 lbd chihuahua named Missy.
the irony does not escape me.
i am tired of sick dogs, though.

EVERY TIME we turn around,
its barf or shit.
the joys of parenting weenie dogs.
harley is far from perfect, but he's perfect for me.
and jack ass...
/sigh.
he's gonna make me go gray.
i love him with all of my heart,
but i am DONE with weenie dogs.
no more for us.

what i can't stand is when we get so furious at him,
then his puppy dog hound dog eyes give the saddest, most pathetic look either side of the mason-dixon.
he is a ROTTEN dog, i tell you.
and yes, i realize its my fault.
i am perfectly aware of this fact.
he's such a jack ass.

we're on round 37669965469023456789976345678 with our fish tank.
we still have our female betta, shirley.
added to the mix is:
Pea, Chunk, and oh shit, wait, wait...
i forget.
i forgot my goldfish's name.
well fuck.
(ha. 3 second memory. hey! maybe THAT'S why they ram the glass?)

i have the bestest wifey.
my snuggley wuggley takes superb care of me.
i simply adore her.
well,
i adore everything except her farts.
because "LAWD JESUS HELP ME"...
them's some goddess awful smellin things.

FUCKING PETS.

truth and love.

The mysterious wicked van Gogh who visits me every time I bow my head to sleep
paints relentless images on the walls of my eye lids that are hindrances to my state of awareness.
Images of an abuser lying in his casket.
This repeated image fails to conjure up emotions such as fear, hatred, trepidation, and a deeply rooted wretchedness that seems to have once floated past the roots beneath the surface of my soul.
I try to persuade the perpetual image to leave my mind,
Diversion exercises and focal points be damned.
A shocking number of people showed to mourn these two people.
The little girl whose hair he once grabbed to jerk her head so he could yell at her to tell her that Reba McEntire was a whore… that little girl, she wanted to stand up on top of his casket with a megaphone to tell everybody that this man that they were grieving for was a liar.
This was a man who said something so heinous when I was born that nobody will tell me what it was.
This was a man who told me, rather, screamed at me that I was too big of a bitch for him to leave me anything in his will.
This was a man who could barely look at me, if at all.
Just as blood clots cause cardiac infarctions,
his hatred caused his blood to coagulate.
This was a man who prized his barbecue sauce recipe more than his own children.
He was embarrassed to be seen in public with me.
He berated me as a child for the outfits that I would wear these sporadic times he would take me out.
He was livid that I wore cowboy boots to a rodeo.
He was always worried about his precious reputation…
I guess he outdid himself on this one.
When the coroner's report comes back the world will see what a drunken fool he was,
That my accusations over the course of the past 25 years were not just mere rhetoric.
The hatred that once flowed through him was ultimately his demise.
Hatred is like acid,
it will eat you up and kill you.
Thank heavens for my filters,
my mom, my Nana, my Mawmaw, Steve, my friends,…
and my wife.
If it weren't for them I would be spiraling down the rabbit hole towards my demise.
I, too, would have that very hatred clogging my arteries.
Thank heavens for love.
Because in the end my dear friend,
it is both truth and love that will set you free.

ugh.

i hate when i can't sleep.

sucks.

sweet dreams...

my reprieve found its way to me via joey, through a pair of FIFTH row reba and kelly clarkson tickets. yee of little faith.

he sinks lower, i raise higher.

a wonderful friday night composed of a BFF, my honey, her folks and Beaufort stew with Alaskan King Crab Legs thrown into the mix.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HHBO2yIyk8#

commence the spatula fetching.

the infamous dr finch of running with scissors
could be in the running with the therapist whom i met today.
upon entering the "business" establishment,
one would observe the "staff" huddling outside for relentless smoke breaks.
then the smell of wet dog greets you merrily in the waiting room.
the stench is matched visually by the enormous pet shit & piss stains adorning the decades old carpet.
you couldn't help but to slowly realize that this place seeped with black mold,
aspestos,
and lead paint.
a circus like popcorn machine defied all shades of dhec regulations,
and the receptionist/nurse horribly ignored all hiipa violations.
"ms rudd, thank you for coming to walgreens, you're seroquil approved by the receptionist/nurse has been called in."
this lady (the receptionist/nurse) reminded me of the girl who's smoked for her entire life since her uncle molested her,
so she whored herself out as the lot lizard in the local bar parking lot.
THEN there's her co-worker, Debbie.
let's discuss Debbie.
her husband is being challenged to a paternity test because another woman
told him to deposit his sperm in a cup and she'd do the job herself.
you see, she wanted a baby real bad...
"you get what i'm sayin."
(apparently, this is the summation of all sentences that exit Debbie's lovely trashy mouth.)
one is under the impression that the "doc" lives here,
hires addicts/recovering addicts,
is a pot smoking, anti war left over 50s reject hippie,
who leaves his RX pads in an open box on the floor in front of you.
the decor that gave the office its...*thinks what word to insert here*...
"ecclectic" taste...
is hippie meets trailor trash meets dog hoader meets crack house flavor.
i was expecting a let's see if its a message from god and
"hoist the coiled turd."
somebody fetch my spatula, s'il vous plait.
running with scissors, indeed.

intervention.

apparently, i've been to drug rehab on my "Father's" dime.

*buzz*
intervention needed!!

...oh wait.
the bastard's dead.
you can't have an intervention above a grave.

better.

After much contemplation,
I will be taking the high road out.
After years of building a protective barrier around my childhood memories,
and of thinking that I was invincible to the hatred,
one night of stupid decisions and a painfully short paragraph,
the dam sprung a leak.
Trickling through were forgotten memories,
which are the fabric of my scarred psyche.
Never have I been a real daughter,
so being reduced to a brutal paragraph should not have been as shocking.
His fall from grace was looming overhead,
but his legacy is for all the world to see.
A man who looked down on everybody else
because he was too good for them,
is now the drunken fool who has left a path of destruction more grand than post Katrina New Orleans.
I will not be the dog who chases its tail;
his damning untruthful words about me will not come into fruition.
If this world is a stage,
then I will not be the class dunce for the world to laugh at.
Never my dad,
always my genetic donor.
Thank heavens for my mama’s side of the family,…
for, it weren’t for them, I would have that same hate coursing through my veins.
The following songs have taken an entirely new meaning for me:
I'm a Survivor by Reba McEntire,
Because of You by Kelly Clarkson and Reba McEntire,
and I Wonder by Kellie Pickler.
More than ever, I have become a staunch advocate for the theory of “nurture, not nature.”
My proof are pit bulls.
Just like me, genetically they have a monster lying dormant within them.
If raised in a gentle, loving, firm environment then they can grow up to be the most wonderful, loving pets that one can imagine.
But if raised in a hateful, seething, blood thirsty environment, then no doubt remains that it will grow up to be a monster.
The legacy that this “man” is leaving behind it is not me,
because for the first time in my life I truly FELT it…
I AM BETTER THAN HIM.
I am better than him.

tired.

the first day back to school is always nerve racking.

math class has an overly peppy teacher
and bio is THREE HOURS long.
suck on that, bitches.
5 minutes in there seemed like an hour.
ugh.
thank goodness that suffrage is only once a week.

therapy tomorrow,
hearing aid maintenance in charleston on wednesday...
finally.

"and the world takes a collective sigh of relief." -sophia patrillo

i am tired.

thankful.

but tired.

lunacy at its finest.

'disinherited.'


too much information pouring in.


cheryl is my neutral place, my solice.


decisions.
a fork in the road.
actually, more like a spork.

down the hatch, because here it goes.

relationships.

People keep inquiring about my state of mind,
But I am unsure as to what to say.
Inside my heart and soul lies a melting pot of a potpourri of rampant emotions.
It doesn’t seem right,
People carrying on with their everyday lives
When he and his wife are six feet under.
Not that my life has ever revolved around them,
But this all seems so surreal, unnatural.
It isn’t like a nightmare,
It is more like a hindering thought that is fucking persistent as hell.
Another total burden right now is my teeth.
I broke down today and called my doctor,
Begging him to fit me in asap.
I got some serious antibiotics, painkillers, and snoz spray.
Cheryl has my painkillers,
So there’s no need to worry.
I’ve got to call my therapist tomorrow and start that all over again.
I’m eager to do so.
I do not want to keep this stuff bubbling beneath the surface,
Awaiting a maddening volcanic explosion.
I cannot afford that;
I have too much at stake.
I’m going to put my whole heart into these new sessions,
And throw myself head first into this semester.
I’m doing so good,
I’m proud of myself.
I’m not as far along as I’d like to be,
But that is what progress is for.
I don’t really do New Year’s resolutions.
However, this year is an exception:
I will not drown in the life threatening undertow that is the Barrs.
This year is all about relationships.
Valuing them,
Solidifying them,
And just enjoying them.
Because I have recently concluded that they are what life all about.

state of grace.

I am so unbelievably emotionally exhausted.
I got to Florence and got to see my friends that I hadn’t seen in a while.
That was fantastic; friends do the soul wonders.
I stopped by briefly to say hey to Mikey on Christmas Eve.
So odd, the timing.
That night at my Mama’s, I got sick as hell.
I thought it was the flu,
Thanks my stars it wasn’t.
My Grandma loved her painting.
As soon as I get those pictures, I’ll post them.
I began to feel better as Christmas day passed along.
However, I still couldn’t sleep that night either.
It’s so odd when you’re all stopped up and you can’t breathe through your nose when you’re sick.
Have you ever wondered about that?
It feels like an engineer has rammed two trains up in those tiny cavities.
That morning at 6:15 I got the call.
My Aunt called my cell needing to talk to my Mama.
Then Mama told me.
“Honey, there’s been an accident. Your Daddy died.”
Those words.
Those words will forever ring in the hallways of my mind.
Echoing aimlessly, bouncing off of the walls wondering what memory file folder to habituate.
After some tears and shock, a phone call to Cheryl, I found my way to the bathroom.
My gut told me this had happened in Darlington County.
I texted Mikey to see if he was awake.
He then had the unimaginable task of informing me that it was not only my Dad,
But my Step Mom too.
And not only that,
But that Mikey himself answered the call.
I had been thrown knee deep into a cyst pool of hatred in which that family (being my Dad’s side) thrives in.
All of the anger, hatred, resentment, and judgments…
It is truly suffocating.
It, too, can kill you.
From somewhere inside of me,
Stepped out this woman.
A woman I am estranged from.
A strong, intelligent, proper, graceful, compassionate woman who doesn’t allow others to bring her down.
The tattoo on my back means ‘strength.’
And that, I exemplified, unequivocally without a doubt.
I’d said my good-bye years ago.
I’d made my peace.
This was the first time that I’ve never been scared of him.
It didn’t even really look like him.
He looked like a rubber doll.
Terry looked so beautiful.
She did.
I never got along with her,
But she was a good Mother to my siblings,
And my heart feels so much compassion for them.
And that is what is important.
No doubt, that the emotional tug of war has jaded me temporarily.
My feet are planted firmly into the solid ground that is my Cheryl.
She has been my neutral place,
My safety net,
My North.
I don’t know what I would’ve done without her through all of this.
This man, he gave me life.
He gave me pain.
In his untimely death, however, the seeds of compassion and love have bloomed.
I had my own friends and family that attended the viewing,
And to those individuals,
I am at a loss of words to relate my unbridled gratitude towards them.
I had trouble comprehending why people were calling to check on me,
But I am slowly getting it.
Regardless of what was,
What remains is the fact that I am still his daughter.
Animosity has vanished only to be replaced by forgiveness.
My heart and soul ache for my family,
Especially my siblings.
I am unsure of what will happen,
But the thing I do know is this:
Love and grace will see me through.

Husband, wife die in Darlington County crash.

Husband, wife die in Darlington County crash

Wednesday, Dec 26, 2007 - 02:17 PM

DARLINGTON – A Florence couple died in an early morning crash today.

Richard and Terri Anderson died when a car driven by Richard Anderson ran off South Charleston Road and hit a tree about 2 a.m., according to Darlington County Coroner J. Todd Hardee.

South Carolina Highway Patrol and the Darlington County Coroner’s Office are investigating, according to Hardee.

my all.

grace.

my sister,
bless her teenage frustrated heart,
baked two cakes and cookies.
my brother eats her cookies,
and my dog
(surely egged on by that terrible, misbehaved dog because he is SUCH an angel)
and the Devil Dog...
ATE AN ENTIRE CAKE.
yes.
an ENTIRE CAKE.
thank goodness there was no chocolate in any of it!!
two female black broads dukin it out on i26 today.
geniuses, those two.
Jamie Lynn Spears' juvenile pregnancy everywhere,
Jamie Leigh Jones is nowhere in sight.
the art of diversion, people.
what a weakminded society, we are.
i am now addicted to the saving grace theme song.
i am addicted to that name...grace.
as a matter of fact,
thats what our society is lacking that could save us all.
grace.

big fuckin' woot.

i went to the wedding this past weekend in florence.
interesting.
old faces,
old memories.
cheryl finally met derrick & ashes.
she liked ashes.
we tried sushi at thai lotus in cola,
i just don't like sushi, as much as i want to.
it really is quite enticing.
to yearn for something you dislike,
is indeed an odd sensation.
we finished up my crimmus shopping.
and my mom insisted on keeping our lil shit eater.
now our house is too quiet,
and our fish tank still cloudy.
but crimmus is coming and i am excited about going home for the holidays.
nothing like an unhealthy dose of familial psychosis!!
Tater Tot is getting sick and is at a rock and a hard place with her doctor situation.
the healthcare profession, like everything else, has gone to shit.
i can't wait for mason & oysters,
and we've invited liz and shauna up for new years eve.
fun times ahead!!

i always knew it was my favorite, for some reason...

THIS was what the Reba concerts USED to be all about!!

i'm such a douchebag for cryin to these.

mr pickle.

in our fridge sits a jar.
in that jar sits a pickle.
a lonesome pickle, it is.
the lonesome pickle sits in a barely there tub of pickle juice.
this has been bugging me, you see.
everytime i open the damn door,
there it sits.
sitting there,
for my eyes to see.
"look at me, look at me," it silently screams.
one is the loneliest number, so it seems.
it looks like a green turd sitting in a jar...
sitting in our fridge.

morbidness.

so i had this nightmare last night about a oversized graveyard.
like one so big, it could serve 50 foot giants.
i looked up those dream symbols,
some were interesting...yet odd.

Graveyard

To dream that you are at a graveyard, represents the discarded aspects of yourself. It is also a fear of the unknown. Alternative, it indicates a loss or a period of mourning.

Headstone

To see a headstone in your dream, represents a forgotten or buried aspect of yourself which you need to acknowledge. Consider also the message on the headstone. It may indicate a statement about your life and its condition.


Cremation

To dream that someone is being cremated, represents purification and your strive for perfection.

Smoke

To see smoke in your dream, signifies that some trouble will be entering your life. You are suffering from confusion and anxiety. You are not seeing things clearly.

belated enlightenment at its finest.

So it seems that our son has recovered fully.
A few more rounds of antibiotics and he’ll be good to go.
As for moi,
I finally got rid of that horrid tummy bug.
Our fish tank cleared up out of nowhere.
Geesh.
Only took a few months for that to happen…
Since august, people.
August.
Bella is stressing more and more everyday about our impending home.
I try to aid in alleviating her worries.
But that’s akin to whizzing in the dark trying to aim at the target.
No Rosie.
No Reba.
/sigh.
I did manage to complete my semester with an ‘A’ and a ‘B’ on my final tally.
I am unsure as to what my final grade for my third class will be, though.
I had a 95 prior to the exam in there.
I suspect nothing lower than a ‘C’ for my final grade.
In the three pictures I have posted:
The. Best. Damn. Ornament. EVER.
Harley Farley is still such the Mama’s boy.
(I’m glad he isn’t a real boy, cuz he’d never make a good husband!!)
And lastly,…
Ne’er has one seen a cuter reindeer!!
(…And ne’er has a reindeer looked so humiliated.)
This past weekend, Bella and I accomplished a lot around the house.
Cleaning,
Organizing,
Cuddling,
Fussing over allowing Harley to sleep in the bed with us,…
We saw Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Imporium in Columbia Saturday night.
Excellent children’s movie.
Not so much an adult’s flick,
But wonderful and magical innocence at best.
Bella’s family had their annual Crimmus reunion, also on Saturday.
I know she had a great time and we both had wonderful food!!
I wouldn’t know WHAT to do if I had FIVE uncles!!
It’s amazing how every family operates individually.
The uniqueness…
And in my family’s case-
The psychosis.
(Seriously.)
I wish I had a good book to read over the holidays.
I am steadily working on my two paintings.
The slower I work,
The more satisfied I am with the final product.
I am looking forward to Mason’s visit…
Him + Oysters (+ maybe Crab Legs) = FANTASTIC TIME!!
Okay,
I have nothing else to talk about.
“And the world takes a collective sigh of relief.”

commence forth the holiday season.

so i have a tummy bug,
whilst our youngest has anal bleeding.
quite a pair we were in the vet waiting room.
pookie sat there fretting & worrying...
stressing.
then when she cried in the room itself,
it was so sweet.
rosie is no longer the perfect butch.
no atlanta trip now.
exam tomorrow,
and on we go.

truth.

so it looks like everyone is getting sick.
they "ate something bad."
i think its a 24 hour bug or somethin.
not fun.
well i failed my psyche test,
but its okay bc i still have an 'A' in there.
no exam there.
i got A's on both my math & history tests.
exempt history but not math.
even though i have an A in math.
ugh.
so we have 8 more men who claims to have tap danced with good ol' larry.
a study says iran NOT building nukes, bush says they're still dangerous.
bush demands congress to approve war spending bill.
WHY are we not protesting?
i cant help but to feel if maybe we need steinem and carter back.
human rights, people.
human rights.
america has lost its way.
not saying there is/was some one moral compass that surpassed all others,
but america has no North now.
we have greedy, oil hungry war mongers running our country.
makes you wonder who's pulling gwb's strings,
bc yall know his ass aint smart enough to run this country.
i am not as radical as our friend, mason,
but i can see where some issues need more questioning.
go to google and type in two words:
"bush gannon"
yes.
secrets.
suddenly, NATIONAL TREASURE doesn't seem so far fetched.
okay, i'm done.
my head's swirling now.
peace out, assholes.

fuck a duck.

we're down to three.
ALL i wanted was a pretty fish filled aquarium to aid in reducing stress.
the semester can't wind down quick enough.
i want some damn WINTER.
fuck all this global warming bullshit.
bring on jack frost's wife.
i can melt her ice.
ha.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
we get to decorate on monday.
yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
okay.
sleep deprivation is beginning to set in.
peace out, homo's.

plans.

so i am freaking out a lil bit.
no word from rosie.
i don't want my dreams to crash around me.
excitement is growing within.
surely my future ex wife won't disappoint.
she can't.
cpap plans put on hold.
while the house plans have been ordered.

we're elfed!!

we got elfed!!
a must see!!

CLICK HERE!!

thank you for bein a friend.

So I’ve been hesitating to write this blog,
And after much trepidation,
Here it is.
When we are children,
We form these friendships that help shape who we are today.
Some lasting,
Some temporary,
But all filled with various amounts of harsh lessons;
Both great and small.
As a child,
You didn’t dare dream of going through an entire weekend without playing with your best friend at least once.
These girls (and/or boys) could be your comfort zone and your battle zone.
Then came the treacherous years of angst ridden and hormonally challenged teenagers where everything was a test of loyalty,
Right down to those oh so endearing childhood friends.
Awkward glances in the high school hallways soon morph into distancing college years.
And somewhere in your twenties,
Upon that inevitable trip home and run-in with those very friends,
Do we discover something…
We don’t like those childhood friends whom we once adored.
In fact,
We can’t stand them.
Facades we can see right through,
And all we can surmise is a laugh at their foolish expense.
The fat girl who overcompensated with her personality,
Now doesn’t have time for anybody because she’s too busy tasting life.
The mama’s girl everybody loathed,
Now a dried and pressed stepford wife.
The girl dumber than dirt,
With her PhD.
What does one do when this epiphany strikes us?
A guilt trip somehow sneaks its way into my thoughts,
As I find myself thinking,
“these ARE my lifelong friends,
I am SUPPOSED to like them.”
Then I hear that little Jeminy Cricket squeaky voice inside telling me
That it’s all just a part of growing up.
I am trying to recognize the fact that we are all human
And have different sides to us all,
Many roles we play on this great stage we call life.
But with all that theatre makeup caked on ever so thick,
Are we the actors or the characters within the play?
I’m unsure of all of this nonsense.
What I am aware of, however,
Is that I have a great (albeit, fucking crazy) family,
A truly wonderful wife,
Two adorable dogs,
And great friends that I do like.

my life.

so the end stretch of the semester is just within reach.
man, am i glad too.
i dunno why
but this semester has slowly passed by.
and to tell you the truth,
i'm actually kind of getting stressed about the holidays.
money,
time,
etc.
i keep telling myself that i am not in control,
to go with the flow,
things always work out for the best.
and that's true.
we need some rain.
"global warming does not exist," he says.
that's why we still have little lizards on our porches right?
yeah, well.
thanksgiving...
not as stressful as i thought it would be.
skitzo uncle is fucking psycho,
H has gained more weight,
and my family are ichky republicans who think GBW is a great man...
and that Bill O'Reilly is "fair."
riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
he's FAIRly attached to a loofah.
i don't have anything witty to say tonight.
forgive me, my beauties.
my Tater Tot is amazing.
she really is.
she knows how to make me feel better when it all goes south.
i swear jackson's paws are still growing by the day,
and my harley farley is getting older and pickier by the day.
this is my life,
and underneath all of the asethics,
i couldn't be happier.

it has begun.

an explosive reaction in the midst of a visit with friends,
brought my ass home.
ibs is never fun.
then today,
mom, margaret, alex, & carmen...
filling up at sav way on the way to sumter.
carmen gets locked inside the car with the keys,
while mom, margaret, and alex flip out.
a passing neighbor brings margaret home to get her cell
& brings her back to the gas station.
on star can't help,
as the doors wont unlock for them.
so steve and ellis,
depart from sumter to return to florence to unlock the van.
and to think,
i haven't even gotten to Mawmaw's for dinner yet.
on we go.

we shall be free.

This ain't comin' from no prophet
Just an ordinary man
When I close my eyes I see
The way this world shall be
When we all walk hand in hand

When the last child cries for a crust of bread
When the last man dies for just words that he said
When there's shelter over the poorest head
We shall be free

When the last thing we notice is the color of skin
And the first thing we look for is the beauty within
When the skies and the oceans are clean again
Then we shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, walk proud
'Cause we shall be free
When we're free to love anyone we choose
When this world's big enough for all different views
When we all can worship from our own kind of pew
Then we shall be free
We shall be free

We shall be free
Have a little faith
Hold out
'Cause we shall be free

And when money talks for the very last time
And nobody walks a step behind
When there's only one race and that's mankind
Then we shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, walk proud, have a little faith, hold out
We shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, have a little faith

We shall be free

garth...and reba.

neither man nor mortal;
only an entity.
no suprise my prediction fruitioned.
tri state area rule now applies to both entities.

thank you, jesus.

okay so i had 2 tests today.
i got an 'A' on the psych,
but i'm bettin that i'm not sittin too pretty on that math.
ugh.
garth brooks tonight.
it'll be interesting to see if he's gonna do the same ol' routine,
or suprise us with new stuff.
i have a dr.'s appointment today at 3,
to finally get rid of this sinus headache.
hopefully, that'll do the trick.
i'm hoping i'll get to paint this weekend,
if my hands allow me to.
i told pookie i'mma do an experiment with my paintings.
atlanta is ON!!
i can now meet my other idol!!
woooooooooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooooooooo!!
my day has come!!
maybe i can pretend to be a fake christian and get down on my knees,
speak in tongue,
roll around on the floor like i have Mad Cow,
and scream "THANK YOU JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESUS!!"

3 point difference.

today,
i had dermatology appointment.
off we go to the "big city,"
the emerald city,
the land of oz.
she, the doctor,
had the 'golden shit' syndrome.
she's prolly such a bitch cuz that gold hurts comin out her asshole...
(with a 'W'.)
okay, so...
as we were leaving the dr's office,
i had to pee.
so we find the office's bathroom.
it was occupied,
thus, we waited.
a couple of minutes passed...
then a bigger built man comes RUSHING out,
head hung down,
face all pale white,
'cept for his cheeks which were ROSY RED.
that tipped me off right then & there.
he practically RAN out the front door & hopped into a construction-like truck.
cheryl & i step towards the bathroom and BAM!!
it hit us in the face like a motherfucking BRICK WALL.
we couldn't even make it in the bathroom...
"I was scared and fearing for my life.
I was shakin' like a leaf on a tree...
Gimme three steps towards the door..
And you could hear me screaming a mile away
As I was headed out towards the door."
as we gagged,
those in the waiting room laughed at our reactions.
yeah.
then, we saw a Buzzard carcass on the side of the road.
speaketh of irony, my friend.
we go to knottyheads to get my cartiledge re pierced.
and whadooyah know?!
upon our arrival,
the urge to poo flashed upon me,...
(its the power of suggestion, people...)
i stunk that bathroom up, girl!!
though, not as badly as Mr Mysterious Construction Crapper.
i did, however,
leave a delightful aroma that wafted out through out the entire establishment.
its a small house, yall.
i ranked about a 7,
whilst Mr Construction Crapper was a hearty 10.
3 points makes a lot of difference.

loofahs.

may St. Dymphna have mercy upon me this week!!
a test has yet to have such an aversion on me as the one i'm to take in 6 hours.
two more next wednesday.
i need to paint.
its beckoning my name.
i will get to it some hopefully tomorrow.
pookie's having her final (hopefully) sleep test tomorrow,
so i won't get to see her until friday.
liz is coming for the weekend.
i have no idea what we'll do.
oh well.
its a no go for a new rosie show.
i am truly disapointed.
as i am sure is Bill O'Douchebag.
loofah anyone?

unutterable contempt.

in an exasperating attempt to accurately describe the ghastly events of yester,
i find myself growing in a bigger state of contempt.
seriously.
my family has fallen from grace.
she,
an old social butterfly
who's wings are in such a state of dilapidation,
that they can no longer support her flights anymore.
she attempts to fly,
fluttering and flapping about with little success.
it breaks my heart,
it truly does.
the other,
is stuck in neutral in the middle of the Denial Desert,
which in her world,
cannot even rival that to the size of the Sahara.
instead of life threatening heat and sunshine for miles and miles,
a relentless cloud of,...smog
that will slowly kill you just as the heat (will).
what jeopardizes the situation is the baby.
no baby should ever be put near the borders of that desert,
let alone allowed inside.
denial and depression is a fast track to a dead end road.
i overcompensated like never before.
"atlanta louvre,"
van gogh,
botticelli,
4.0 gpa i bragged,
hoping to manifest a definate distinction between myself and them.
never have i been ashamed.
embarrassment follows that shame.
i am unsure as to how to cope;
for i know i am only in control of me.
so how do i deal?
maybe it is time to return to therapy.
i don't know what else to do.

phenomenons.

so last night was GREAT.
hanging out with anna was great.
i'm so glad i am not the only one who has 'a touch of the OCD.'
that screaming mexican kid in the pizza hut has my ear drums still trembling.
seriously.
why is it that kids of the toddler age have the highest pitched vocal chords?
what i hate even more are slack assed parents who let their children
run loose in restaurants at 10 freakin o'clock at night.
gah.
bastards.
on the way home, i saw the most peculiar thing(s):
sporatic shoes speckled along the highways.
i saw 5 shoes,
none of which were matching pairs.
now i ask,
why does one toss out an apparently wearable shoe?
much less,
why does one toss out a shoe without its matching partner...
on a highway?
can one explain this phenomenon to me?

all hallow's eve.

so click HERE to see our fabulous halloween night last night!!

let the naming commence.

crudeness.

my wife says that last blog was done in poor taste.

i think it was just plain crude.

funny,
but crude nonetheless.

trick...or treat?!

you know people ain't happy about this!!
i wonder if they'll give a discount since obviously oral isn't possible?!
yeah, i know.
i am a sick bastard.
but admit it,
not ONLY did you think it too,
but your ass laughed at that joke.
as a side note,
i am willing to bet that stastically,
the percentage of orally transmitted diseased will drop in the meantime.
abrutply changing the subject because i cannot come up with another nifty joke about the harlets,
other than the title of this blog entry that i just came up with,
we carved our pumpkins and hung up our halloween lights.
welcome to the gaybourhood!!

click you.

As I laid in bed last night,
I heard a repetitive clicking sound.
click,
click,
click.
I was catapulted back to my early years at Briggs elementary school.
There was this cart that literally was kept in a storage closet.
They would bring this cart out once a week.
On it, they would have school supplies and little trinkets,
All available for around one dollar.
After all, we were just little elementary children.
Every week when this little cart with open,
I would be standing in line to buy something to throw my mother's money away.
If I did not buy anything,
I would stand there and play with one particular item.
It was eraser.
It had a long sheer colored covering,
and a slide bar that was used to elevate and contract the eraser as needed.
As you pushed the slide bar up to elevate the eraser,
it would make a clicking sound.
Click,
click,
click.
I would always do it five times.
I don't know why.
Perhaps that little eraser was the grass roots campaign for my slight case of OCD later on in life.
Click,
Click,
click,
click,
click.
I controlled the clicking.
Me, all by myself.
Much like I control the paintbrush on my canvases.
I cannot paint shadows,
but I can blend colors like there is no tomorrow.
That “tallequah sunset” is not a problem.
does this mean that I have control issues?


First-borns
Positives: They are natural leaders and often high achievers. The majority of politicians, spokespersons and managing directors are first-borns. They frequently live with a sense of entitlement and even superiority. They often come in two flavours: compliant nurturers/caregivers or aggressive movers and shakers. Both are in control; they just use different methods. As a rule, first-borns are picky, precise people - they pay attention to detail - tend to be punctual, organised, and competent. They want to see things done right the first time. They don't like surprises.

Negatives: They are often moody and occasionally lack sensitivity. They can be intimidating, particularly by pushing people too hard or refusing to take no for an answer. Sometimes they can be a bit 'know-it-all', and often they are poor at delegating - largely because they don't trust other people as much as they trust themselves. They also tend to be bossy, perfectionists and overly-conscientious.


That explains it, right there, doesn’t it?
Yea, I liked that clicking because I did it better than anyone else.
Yea, you’re just jealous because my click are better than yours and you know it.
Click, click my ass, baby.

For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” ~Vincent van Gogh

amidst the roaring snores late last night,
i had a tantalizing epiphany:
i.
could.
actually.
meet.
rosie.
Oh, my, god.
oh
My
God.
It overwhelms my entire being.
It could ACTUALLY happen.
I don’t believe in God, per say,
But I’ll damn pray my heart out for this to happen.
*sigh*
My third, and final book for a while, arrived today.
My First Five Husbands..And the Ones Who Got Away (Hardcover).
I hope it is as good as I want it to be,
So I can share it with liz.
I cleaned house today,
perhaps tonight I will get some painting in,
along with demolishing more pages of Look Me In the Eye: My Life With Asperger’s.
yesth, yesth.
If you want something bad enough,
It’ll eventually happen.

toe tapping lesbo.

i have begun on a second book,
Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's.
so far it is brilliantly & divinely hilarious.
the man who wrote is the brother of the author of Running With Scissors.
i've already LoL'd numerous times.
seriously genius quality.
the other book i am slowly reading is,
Highsmith A Romance of the 1950s.
kinda hum drum thus far,
but kinda interesting.
its about a dyke literary couple in the artsy fartsy section of NYC in the 50s.
we need a bigger book case!!
its getting so jammed packed now it isn't funny.
today Bella and i went to kmart
to do a bit more halloween shopping.
we are dressing up!!
one of us is in drag and the other a sexy french maid.
yippeee!!
on rosie.com i saw where my idol will be in atlanta in december for her book tour.
schofield be damned (if need be).
i am sooooo there.
shit fucking yes.
not, shit fuckin yes...
but this needs that extra emphasis...
shit fuckinG yes.
the sheer excitement that shot through my viens was...
immeasurable.
is that even a word?
my blog,
my world,
my words,
my rules,...
so,...suck it.
or rather,
"Can you believe this shit? Hell has frozen over. Suck it, Jesus, this award is my god now."
LoL.
that was some funny shit and you know it.
holy rollers be damned.
those people are hypocritical fakers anyhow.
larry craig's bear lover has the last laugh now, biatch!!
you just know good ol' cocksuckin larry came across that shit online yesterday
and thought, "hmmmm,...he was THAT beef bottom pickle chugger!! hmmm,...yummy!! OH SHIT, he's outed me!! bastard. i'll bury him so deep....hmmm,...that's right i'll bury him alright,....yummy..."
yea.
how i so adore those left/right wing "straight christians" in office.
how come none of this shit ever happens to a dyke in office?
you never see her "toe tapping" in a public bathroom.
yeaaaaa...
so, Pookie's working tomorrow day.
maybe i'll head over to her work and wait til she goes to potty,
then i'll go "toe tapping" to woo her in the stall.

bat shit crazy, if you ask me.

One, two, three,...
Here we go.
sanctions against Iran.
fucktard tossing around the gravest of all threats
like a pitch at a damn baseball game.
they call her crazy,
the ignorant fat Dyke,
whatever she may be,
she predicted it correctly.
she said war with Iran before he is gone.
World War III is a possibility he says.
dare I ask,
betwixt the two,
which one is crazy?
The peace-minded ignorant fat Dyke,
or the ignorant hate monger war criminal?
My honey bun has a strawberry in full bloom
on her strawberry plant.
it was 90° the other day,
here in October.
yet global warming doesn't exist so say our government.
I worry.
I worry in vain.
what can I do?
I am a “disabled” devout explorer of the ‘temple of poon,”
I have no rights either way according to them.
it can get overwhelming,
that is what our government counts on.
us to groan,
walk away,
and forget about it.
I'm not forgetting about it,
how can I?
Time to redirect this blog’s focus.
tonight I made my daily pilgrimage to Rosie.com.
her and her wife did a video blog promoting a venue that she is fixing to do.
the way that they looked at each other was so sweet.
truly.
I still find myself looking at my snoodle-bug that way.
even though right now she is well occupied with the doggie door.
I surprise myself today,
I got a 106 on my math test.
not bad, not bad.
fall break began for me today.
I still have to study for history though.
ashley’s birthday is Friday.
my intentions are to clean house this weekend,
as I am aching to paint very soon.
I find mucho humor and a stoned weenie dog,
but my wife says I must have compASSion.
we shall see how much compassion I have when it comes to spontaneous fart refluxes next time.

obvious chaos.

so i have been a lazy bitch
when it comes to my blog, as of late.
let me begin with atlanta.
mason's "friend" lured me in like a fly to a pile of shit.
what'd he do, one would ask?
he spoketh of the golden girls.
we had oysters galore.
yummy.
i also saw something else quite enticing--
besides the local flavors of butches,
which were, in fact, quite the eye candy--
i saw two Bullies, a Frenchy and an English.
out with the yorkie,
in with the Frenchy!!
we went to the world market.
scary yet infinitely interesting place.
mason and i watched DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE.
seriously,
wow.
quantam physics is an amazing arena.
too much for my mind to wrap around.
then we left atlanta,
beelined to flotown to grab jackson from my mama's,
then finally home to orangeburg.
jackson pouted the whole way home,
as he loathes being ripped apart from his counterpart,
carmen.
(a quite ugly dog whom i immensely dislike and continue to tell her just that,
yet i can't get rid of her.)
let's fast forawrd to this past wednesday.
a "serious incident" at OC Tech,
an unworldly amount of moolah spent on art supplies,
an armed robbery,
police stastements,
crime numero deux,
unbearable bladder pain and then relief,
and finally,
cheryl's mom's dog on the railroad tracks.
yeah, buddy.
all in one day.
i'm out, homo's.

wow.

wow.

like we, in america, needed ANOTHER reason to AVOID trailor parks.

atlanta.

atlanta was GREAT!!

check out the pictures from atlanta!!

tough ol' bird.

For those unfamiliar with the expression, “To Eat Crow” (or “eating crow”) is an American English expression which refers to humbling yourself by admitting that a previously (and often strongly) stated opinion was wrong or incorrect.

who ya gonna call?

okay, so the former mrs julie smith of royall elementary
is a contrite, high falutent, moronic, biased douchebag.
she has hated me and my mother ever since i was in first grade.
FIRST GRADE.
talk about holding a grudge.
stupid bitch.
when you poke a red hot fire iron on an animal,
it will eventually bite you.
does that warrant labeling that animal unruly?
no.
YOUR actions caused the bite.
for every action, there is a reaction.
basic laws of nature.
its a self fulfilling prophecy issue, here.
you cannot make a withstanding accusation without any basis or merit against a child,
whom it is WELL KNOWN you have a distinct disreguard for.
it is unethical, prejudicial, and just all sorts of demeaning.
i am relieved this is the last school year that my boys,
especially the bigger target of the two,
who have been subjected to this unfair, unethical, biased ignorant nonsense
that is spewed from the hallways of that school.
that bitch's office is like the painting in the museum in Ghostbusters II,
where the evil is emenating from.
i should get all ghostbusters on her by releasing some "positive slime and proton beams" on her old, wrinkly ass.
that reminds me,
annine pots was in that series.
i love her.
she is so hot.
hmmmmm...
yummy...
anyways.
so my pookie's birthday is tomorrow.
we went to flotown yesterday to take our youngest prodigy to my mom's.
he thrives there,
but with mom's new (ugly and IRRITATING) puppy,
our eldest gets all mental.
so, he will go to cheryl's mom's for the weekend.
cheryl and i will be in hotlanta.
WooT!!
i'm cooking her a birthday supper tomorrow.
today i bought her an outfit of her choice as part of her present.
she/we received the "peace" t-shirts from rosie.com today.
(i also received my "CAUTION: FARTING DACHSHUND" bumper sticker and rosie's new book, which came out today. YaY!!)
pookie upset me last night...
she denied our eldest access to our bed.
*grumbles under breath*
today at walmart,
i found the coolest crimmus ornament,
the leg lamp from a christmas story.
LoL, its GREAT!!
purple skies all around.

we forget 80 percent of what we learn everyday.

i got a lot done on my painting this weekend.
YaY!!
i'm about halfway done.
i hope it turns out to my satisfaction.
tomorrow,
my math class has been cancelled and i find out my history test grade.
i hope i did well.
this reba cd has become my new addiction.
by far, the BEST cd she has ever done.
homegirl did NOT disappoint.
i can't wait for this week...
Pookie's bday and
florence AND ATLANTA.
and ROSIE'S NEW BOOK!!
WooT!! WOOT!!
i hope some of the stuff i ordered gets here before we leave for atlanta on friday.
my farting dachshund sticker,
my carole king tapestry cd,
rosie's new book,
and the stuff i ordered from rosie.com
my new reba friend is awesome.
i thought he'd have me one-upped.
nope.
why?
because I MET REBA!!
(and he hasn't.)
i have issues.
i turn things into competitions that shouldn't BE competitions.
oh well.
it be's what it be's.
this weekend,
i've been having some serious mental issues.
i can't say what i want,
and i'm getting stuff mixed up.
memory problems suck.

happy hamster dance.

so, i'm NOT studying this weekend!!
HAPPY HAMSTER DANCE!!


i CANNOT wait to start again on my painting!!

WooT, WooT!!

OMFG!!

"Everyday People" on Reba's new CD, REBA DUETS, with Carole king is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. THIS CD IS A MUST HAVE!! GO BUY IT!!



College Kids turning twenty-one/ and their senior year spring break was here/ they headed south.. but not for sun/ On their skin where the storms had been/ It was hard/ fixing windows and shigles and doors/ and the tide never felt so good before

Chorus: Everyday People are the ones who are making miracles/ and it's beautiful/ Everyday People lifting up the world/ like an answered prayer/ I thank God their there/ They're the one's who care/ Everyday People

Doctor said "Good News we caught it soon enough, we can clear this up"/ But she's 30 and single with two kids to raise/ times are tough these days/ So her friends made some calls and the word spread around/ How her bills got paid she don't know how

(REPEAT CHORUS)

A little girl takes her Mama's hand/ and walks inside saying "Please don't cry"/ As the people who built this house just for them/ Laugh through the tears as a family moves in

Everyday People are the ones who are making miracles/ and it's beautiful/ Everyday People lifting up the world/ like an answered prayer/ I thank God their there/ They're the one's who care/ Everyday People...Everyday People...Everyday People

humdrum significance.

so, margaret was here for the weekend.
i'm truly happy my folks let her come.
yay!!
i think she was bored.
i mean,
we ARE in the boonies.
but she got to read her book she says she hasn't gotten to read yet.
had to poke her a few times to get answers outta her, though.
i got a 90 on my math test
and a 97 on my psych test.
not too happy bout that math score,
but hey,
an 'A' is an 'A.'
i have this love-hate relationship wwith my PC.
and last night we weren't on speaking terms.
this is a BRAND NEW Dell,
Vista Small Business edition,
WITH EXTRA EXTRA memory added.
my next PC will be a Mac.
i fucking HATE windows now.
boo on bill gates.
he's a thief anyways.
lame.
yea, so...
i can't wait to get celebrity detox.
and i went to buy reba's CD,
but the ORANGEBURG walmart was sold out.
now see,
that makes me proud of my woman.
but,
i'm kinda shocked it being the ORANGEBURG walmart.
i mean,
the *ahem* cultural social aspects here,...
i figure just aint the reba type.
but then again,
them being sold out of anything fails to suprise me.
blah.
anywho, i've procrastinated long enough.
time to fill my head with facts on flappers and prohibition.

cute doggies.

cute doggies. (NOT doggy porn.) LoL.

my heart gloweth with pride.

Kanye got his ass beat….by Reba McEntire!
The country crooner’s new duets album, Reba Duets, is the number one album in America this week.
Reba’s new album sold more than 300,000 copies in the first week — more than double McEntire’s previous first-week sales high of 124,000 with It’s Your Call in 1992.
Congratulations!

dwarfs.

Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey, Doc, Happy, Bashful can all kiss my Grumpy ass.

It appears as if my Psych grade went from a ‘B’ to an ‘A’…
no complaints.
Let’s see if my prediction holds true for my Math test grade.
All I know is I studied for that test and my ass best not have failed it.

Pookie is getting a sleep study tomorrow,
so my deaf ass can enjoy sleeping with my wife again.
Yall KNOW that’s bad if my deaf ass can hear that!!
(I love you, Pookie-Poo!! *MUAH*)
So she won’t be home til Friday.
I think I’mma go buy the Reba CD to help make me feel better.
Yay!!
(Btw, my homegirl debuted at numero uno on Billboard’s with the release of this CD. Not bad for a 52 year old, huh?!)
In the meanwhile,
I need to study and clean house.
Motivation hasn’t been a regular visitor lately.
Dunno why.
Not getting depressed again.
Oh wait,
I DO know why...
I'm lazy.
Yes, I freely admit it.
I should feel some sordid sense of shame.
Oops.
Oh well.

The plight of the aquarium still remains.
Ugh.

So, this Jenna 6 shit…
its all such bullshit.
Why aren’t they persecuting him for a hate crime?
Yea,
the nooses were NOT cool,
AT ALL…
But have we learned NOTHING from our past?!
VIOLENCE SOLVES NOTHING.
We are a stupid species.
Fuck,
even the turkies are smarter than us.
THEY aren’t causing their own demise.
Well,
let’s leave out the ones who drowned themselves.
Humans are the most stupid species, ever.
Evolution, smellolution.
Today’s humans are Darwin’s theory in reverse.
Case in point,
Britney Spears.
Yeahhhh, buddy.
Maybe Disney can induct her into the 8th Dwarf position:
Stupid.

suck it, dorothy.

I should have listened to my intuition about this weekend.
simple things made complicated.
riding shotgun with my aggravation is guilt.
no doubt,
he leads a hard life.
The evil, pickled old wench
has the patience of a saint when it comes to him.
so I reckon,
there is some good in everybody.
though, in her case,
her good is relative to the size of a mustard seed.
this weekend was good,
but very stressful.
I'm glad I'm home...

today.

mom confiscated jackson.

grandma's losin her mind.

my skitzophrenic uncle called.

and some people are just plain ig'nant!!

yellow.

Without any doubt, it is absolutely incomprehensible that a decade has passed by. Today’s arrival has regressed my 25 year old self to a misplaced, innocent 15-year-old girl who just lost her footing. 364 days out of the year, I am pretty okay with it. I am 90% sure that I don't believe in God, but I do believe in angels. In the past 10 years I have done many of the stupid things that any young adult does while growing up, and at any time I could've been done for. Each time I came out alive, though shaken, I would immediately realize how lucky I was. Somewhere, somehow, someone was watching over me. In my heart, I know that it was her. At least, that is what I tell myself. I tend to believe that most of the time. I am unsure how long the grieving process is supposed to last; in the past 10 years, it has gotten easier, but no less painful. It is a given that I often wonder what she would think of me today. She was a tiny, beautifully strong lady who garnered her strength through her unwavering faith in God. She would be pleased that I am happy, but I think she wouldn’t be too thrilled about the whole lesbian thing. But that's okay. She would be proud of me...she always was. To me, that is the steadfast epitome of true love. (I know how unbelievably fortunate I am have that same love today through my grandmother.) On the 18th, it is alarmingly too easy for me to fall inward and make it through the day living off of memories of her. Thank goodness I have a wonderful, understanding wife who stands by my side to make sure that I'm not alone. With every old, white haired person that I see, my heart aches just a little bit more. I don't want them to feel alone, I want them to feel loved, and to know that they still matter. Talk about your transference! After Cheryl gets home from work in the morning and gets a little nap in, I will adorn my yellow polo and we will make the pilgrimage to Florence. I will buy a yellow daisy, drive to her resting place and leave the flower with her. I need for her spirit to know that I still love her and that she still matters. That little girl inside of me will always need and want to be loved by her Nana.

One day SHY OF eight years old
Grandma passed away
I was a broken hearted little boy,
blowing out that birthday cake

How I cried when the sky let go
with a cold and lonesome rain
Momma smiled said don't be sad child
Grandma's watchin you today

'Cause there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and her tears are pourin' down
that's how you know she's watchin'
wishin' she could be here now
And sometimes if you're lonely
just remember she can see
there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and she's watchin' over you and me

Seasons come and seasons go
nothin' stays the same
I grew up fell in love
met a girl who took my name
Year by year we made a life
in this sleepy little town
I thought we'd grow old together
Lord I sure do miss her now

But there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and her tears are pourin' down
that's how you know she's watchin'
wishin' she could be here now
and sometimes when I'm lonely
I remember she can see
there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and she's watchin' over you and me

Well my little girl is 23
I walk her down the aisle
it's a shame her mom can't be here now
to see her lovely smile
They throw the rice
I catch her eye
as the rain starts comin' down
she takes my hand
says daddy don't be sad 'cause
I know momma's watchin' now

And there's holes in the floor of Heaven
and her tears are pourin down
that's how you know she's watchin'
wishin' she could be here now
and sometimes when I'm lonely
I remember she can see
there's holes in the floor of Heaven

and she's watchin' over you and me
Watchin' over you and me
Watchin' over you and me
Watchin' over you and me

self-made misery.

2 lbs of Alaskan King Crab Legs + 1 small Wendy's Vanilla Frostee DOES NOT, I repeat, DOES NOT FEEL GOOD. I am now going to go wallow in my self-made misery. Goodnight, folks.

state of grace.

america's finest.

america's finest
sits behind me in psych class.
defender of our freedom.

i often envision their stories,
the faces that surround me in my classes.

a blonde haired, blue eyed girl,
with hair perfectly fixed in a bun.
i imagined some romantic story for her...
a newlywed just beginning on her journey.

but then she busts out her baby daddy line.
he owes her $300
but hasn't talked to her in a while.
"he done fucked up his chance with me,"
she said.

oh honey,
i thought.
things could be better,...

america's finest.

weekend delights.

saw the first half of liz's play thursday night
with my wife and my brother.
from what we saw,
vury vury good.
a very productive Girl Scout meeting friday night.
matt's doing what he wanted.
that's super cool.
i love hanging out with him.
on saturday,
derrick and ashley met up with me at mikey's.
good times had by all.
mom's puppy...
geesh.
i'm glad i'm a florence/darco girl.
but i'm even more proud to be the wife of a orangeburg girl.
i love coming home.

1 down.

1 test down,
1 to go.
missed 8 outta 50,
but have extra credit bonus points.
"should have an A," she said.
trip to florence delayed by a day;
i'll go friday.

i'm off to bed;
early day tomorrow.
mucho to do.

peace out.

Paracheirodon Innesi Hate Crime.

okay
so we now have a disabled neon tetra,
also known as Paracheirodon Innesi in the scientific community,
the victim of a truly heinous hate crime.

the judge's ruling at the trial,
came down with the handle of the toilet.
a harsh ruling,
according to members of the underwater community.

judge bell defended her actions stating,
"hate crimes of this nature have a zero tolerence in my book.
my ruling in this case was not harsh,
it sends a message to the rest of the community that hate of any kind will not be tolerated in any degree."

the tetra is doing well as can be expected,
though he is confined to swimming in circles for the rest of his life.
he allegedly reports
that he now gets headaches from the dizziness.
but does admit,
that he now feels safer swimming in circles.
a massive price to pay for one's own fishy life.

inexplicable hankering.

how is it
that i am craving a smoke?


i don't wanna start again.

but damn,
one sounds good right now
and i haven't the foggiest as to why.

i hate september.

yesterday,
she couldn't find the burger king.

fall.

today's weather,
a tease of Fall.
i can smell that faint scent,...
the scent that invigorates my senses.
my favorite time of the year.
yard work,
carving pumpkins,
raking,
ridiculous dog costumes.
i love it!!

so here i am,
with a sore back and a fuzzy head
trying to memorize 4 chapters for my test this coming week.
procrastination is a horrid genetic disease in my family
that doesn't skip a generation.
yea,
i prolly shouldn't have waited so late.
oh well.

peace out, hefers.

mpd.

we've just "diagnosed" jackson with Multiple Personality Disorder.

so,
i have crazy fish AND a crazy dog.

figures.