Saturday Night! See It Unfold!

A little piece of me just died. Sweety insisted that we watch some of P. Diddy's video blogs. Don't ask me how in the fuck that happened. Now he is walking around the house saying to me, "That's Uncle Sean to you, bitch." He'll be lucky if I don't pluck his tongue out.

I'm trying to teach Tiny Dog to ring a bell whenever she needs to take a shit. So far, so not good. I ring the bell like a loon whenever I want her to go outside and say "outside!" in a chipper tone and she looks at me like I'm crazy. Surely she will catch on soon and make things easier by signaling her desire to piss outside instead of sneakily on a rug.

She knows I'm talking about her. I'm getting the evil eye.

Speaking of evil...

Do you think she looks creepy in this picture?


My sister said it looks like she's smiling evilly and she thinks if Tiny could move her toes that she'd give Sweety the finger in this photo.

Football is on the t.v. right now. Woo hoo.

Oh good. The team he wanted to win did.

Hi, Stinky Dog with the bloody ass! How are you? Oh, your hindquarters are sore where you chewed them today for the first time in forever? I'm sorry that you're an allergy ridden mess. Surely your new meds will go to work soon.

Niiice. I launched her onto the couch and she positioned herself so her medicated, bloody ass is touching me. Gack. At least she isn't nibbling anymore. I think we nipped it in the bud.

I finally get brave and install an instant messenger service on my computer and my instant messagee isn't online. Drat.

Sweety decided to do some reorganizing today. He took this little cabinet thing that had been in the garage and moved it onto the back porch. I was watching him through the door when he opened the cabinet and a swarm of fucking palmetto bugs came out and rushed him. As he fell back, I screamed and hid in the bathroom. He won. For a while, it looked like the Trail of Tears on the back porch but it was giant dying bugs. All of the rain we've had the past week or so really drove them in. I'm glad they used the garage cabinet as an apartment instead of moseying on inside.

Hey! I just remembered! Sweety has a long sheet of big-bubble bubbled wrap in the garage and it is positioned under his tire. He is going to run the car over it for me later.

No work for me for the next two days! Wootie woot!

It is now 11:38 p.m. and when I said earlier that Sweety's football team won? I was wrong. That must have been the end of the first quarter or something. The game is now over and they really did win. I'm not too up on football.

For the love of Dog, people!

She had her moment to shine and now it is my turn! Bask in my glory, bipeds!


I hear that the bitch Chi Chi is on vacation and Mama can't wait for her to come back. What the hell is up with that? I am a far superior dog. As proof, I present to you my sack - it is the larger one on the right. How can a better dog fit in a smaller sack?


I will tell you how. It can't. I am bigger, therefore, I contain more doggy goodness. End of discussion.

Miscellany

Someone close to me^* got some really disheartening news today concerning their employment status and how their employer of several years views them. I am madder than a hornet's nest. It really goes to show that you can give 120% and still be told "fuck off" in the end. I'm not really sure how this will all be dealt with. There are a couple of options at this point. I'm a big fan of signs. Like, "if things go this way then I will do this" sort of thing. If things go well tomorrow in regards to something pretty major, then I will relax. I have a funny feeling that things won't go the way that we'd like though. We shall see.

My schedule this week has been all weird. Instead of working four 10 hour days, I'm doing five 8 hour days. Monday through Friday. This is because I had to do some training for 3 days this week. When I got this job (too fucking long ago) it was described as customer service. You call me when you have a late fee or don't recognize something on your bill. Now, we're having to deal with internet issues. I am so not looking forward to those kinds of calls.

The boys have begged us to let them ride their bikes to school for the past couple of years and we didn't let them because they were going to different schools and it was just as easy for us to pick them up from school. This is the first (and only) year that they will be in middle school together and we told them this summer that they could ride their bikes this year. They have been so excited.

The first day of school got here and they went to school and filled their backpacks with roughly 30 pounds of books apiece. They hadn't been able to ride their bikes yet because school had been closed due to the tropical storm and their schedules weren't set. They decided yesterday that they won't ride their bikes because their backpacks are too heavy. They're afraid that they'll turn turtle when going around a curve. They get lockers at school (that you have to freaking pay for) but are only allowed to go to them during certain times of the day so they end up carrying all of their stuff. It sucks.

Chi Chi 2.0 should be returning from her vacation soon. They said they'd contact me a couple of weeks before she was ready to get the final payment and they did that in the last week or so. I'm really hoping that it looks like she's sleeping and not just a dead dog in the corner.

One of my friends in Texas was one of Chi Chi's early owners and she has Chi Chi's registration papers tucked away somewhere. She will send them to me when she finds them. That is when I will be ready for a new dog. I'm going to try and track down one of Chi Chi's relatives.

^*Like sleeping in the next room close to me.

Nocturnal Fun

I know that I've mentioned that Sweety sometimes talks in his sleep. Last night, I took it to a whole new level.

For about the past 4 or 5 nights, I'll think that we are having a real conversation and then he'll start talking about crazy shit and I'll realize that he is dreaming.

He spooned up against me last night and cranked up the following conversation.

You really do hate Tom Cruise don't you?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Why? Whyyyyy? Do you hate him?

I think he's a crazy little fucker and I have no use for him.

So you don't like any of his movies?

Nope.

Color of Money?

Never seen it but I don't like it.

How can you say that when you haven't seen it? You really do have a black heart for Tom Cruise. I feel sorry for him. He will die soon.

And now we have maybe a minute's worth of silence.

What do you want?

Huh?

What do you really want the most?

At this point I'm trying to decide if he's awake or not because he does like to poke at me about my disdain for Tom Cruise so maybe he is truly awake. I decide to conduct an experiment.

A bottled water from the icebox.

A bottled water is what you want the most?

Yes. Would you get me one, please?

I'm thinking if he's really asleep that he'll just roll over and maybe pretend to get a water from and imaginary icebox. Instead he sits up and I think, "Oh, shit. He's awake! I'm gonna have to drink all of that damn water!". He gets out of bed and crashes into the wall. That's when I realize that he it asleep.

I follow him into the kitchen and when he opens the icebox, I flip on the light and ask him what the hell he's doing. I can see the look of surprise on his face and when he answers it's in a small, pitiful voice.

Getting you a water?

Why?

No reply.

Why are you getting me a water?

Um, I dunno...

At this point I am laughing hysterically and he is standing there naked and confused.  He runs whimpering back to bed. I go back and tell him of the conversation we've been having.

We are laying there for about 10 minutes and he pipes up.

I'm scared to go back to sleep. What if I wake up and I'm driving naked to the beach?

Don't worry. I'll protect you.

No you won't! You just made me do a trick!

That was before I realized that your unconscious self needed protecting. I won't do that to you again.

I can't wait to see what sort of fun tonight's bedtime holds.

Doh!

For the past few weeks at work, I've noticed a door with a sign on the outside that said "Contemplation Room". I'm always on the lookout for a place to nap and I started peeking into it.

There is a tiny round table, a chair and a rug. That's it.

I'd looked in there a few times the past couple of weeks and it had always been empty. I decided to make myself at home in there today on my lunch break and take a nap.

I turned the sign on the door to read "in use" and went inside and put my purse on the table.

That is when I realized that there was a listing of times on the noteboard on the wall.

Oh. Nice. I guess you have to sign up to come in here and nap! Wonder who I need to talk to about getting on the list?

Why is there a little oriental rug on a floor that is already carpeted? Maybe I could nap on it?

I'm poking the rug around with my toe when it dawns on me that the room is set up for Islamic folks to have somewhere to do their praying. The times on the noteboard are the times of the day that they're supposed to pray.

Unfortunately, the door didn't lock so I smoothed the rug down and left.

I didn't want to be napping in there and have someone wanting to get their Salat on bust in on me.

A Sweaty Ball Of Fury

That's me.

Sweaty and furious.

The Fury descended at about 2 a.m. last night and I'm having a hard time tamping it down. I don't know why I'm so pissed.

Sweety and I were being all romantic when I started feeling mad. So I did really mean things to him last night and he loved every minute. I thought that I'd be calmer today when I woke but I'm not. I feel super alert. Super alert and ready to flip out with the slightest bit of provoking.

It doesn't help that I had to go to motherfucking Wal-Mart twice today. Are you required to have a head injury in order to work there? I think so.

I went to 3 separate stores looking for those black and white composition notebooks and couldn't find a one. The kids will have to do without those til some can be tracked down.

I remember when I was a kid and the only school supplies we needed were paper, pencils and crayons or colored pencils. We have 3 pages of shit between the boys of stuff that they need.

I guess the boys are a little put out because they didn't get brand spanking new shoes for school. BigBrother(13) has a pair that's been worn maybe two or three times and LittleBrother(11) has a pair that belonged to BB but were barely worn. BB's have a tiny scuff on the toe and he doesn't like that. A. SCUFF. ON. THE. TOE. OF. THE. SHOE. I told Sweety to give that shoe to BB and tell him to fuck himself with it and wear the damn thing. Shoes are made to get dirty. You know, because they are on the ground and all.

I can't believe that I told Sweety to tell a 13 year old kid to fuck himself and am telling you about it. I blame The Fury.

8/18/8 12:16 a.m.

In the 2.5 hours since writing the last sentence, I've had:

2 pieces of toast with honey butter and a glass of milk.

A shower.

2 melatonin.

2 Aleve.

I no longer feel like kicking someone in the head just for the hell of it. Phwew.

Wootie Woot

It's Friday night! Well, it's really Saturday morning but whose who's counting? Hey, did I use "whose" right there? Mebbe.

Polishing off a mixture of ginger ale and Crown Royal that is 6 weeks old. It ages well.

I think Sweety is watching the Olympics. All I see are some running motherfuckers.

I think if I can get Sweety drunk enough that he will let Tiny Dog sleep with me.

Why is he tweaking his own nipple?

Sometimes when I'm really aggravated - I think JFK! or KFC! as short for Jesus Fucking Christ. I know Christ starts with a C and not a K and I don't know why I'd think of Kentucky Fried Chicken when I'm pissed. Is this subliminal?

Hey. Looking at that. JFK could be John F. Kennedy, huh?

Agh, KFB. What an asshole. Sweety likes to push my buttons.

We washed Tiny Dog 5 days ago and I put some perfume that I got as a sample on her and you can still smell it. Bitch is supernatural. Or Stella perfume really kicks ass. I'm leaning towards Tiny being supernatural. I wore Stella once but still needed a bath after only one day.

Heh. I just sucked the last of the soda out of the bottle. The only things left to drink in the house are a couple of sips of Gatorade and some Bacardi 151.

Do you twitter? You need to follow my sister. She's tickles me.

Hahahahaha! I think Sweety is going to bed! Do you know what this means? I can skip my shower and take one in the morning AND take Tiny Bed to dog with me! I'll have to wait til I hear him snore though.

Do you think it's weird if you let your dog stick its head in your mouth? I think that as long as her fur doesn't touch the inside of my mouth that it's okay. Some folks think it's odd.

1:32 and all is weeeeelllll! Night.

Lazy Thursday

Tiny Dog is on a supplement for her leg that likes to flop out of socket. She just started taking it but hopefully it will work and we won't have to go the surgical route. The pills are huge. Really big. She takes 1/2 of one and I have to chop it in half or thirds to hide it in food for her.

Tonight as I was chopping up the pill, I had a huge urge chop it up like cocaine and then use my driver's license to put it in neat rows and then see if she would snort it. Lucky for her, the urge subsided while I was digging around in my purse for the license and I just mixed it up with her food instead. But I wonder? Could she be forced trained to snort the shit? That would be so much easier than hiding it in food. Sometimes she finds it and spits it out. That infuriates me. I'm just trying to make you feel better. Eat it! Eat it!

When I lived in Texas, I worked the overnight shift in the office at a big box retailer's distribution center. There I met one of my dearest buddies (S) and she's still with the same company. We might not talk on the phone for months at a time but when we do talk, it's like we just spoke yesterday. She's in FL for work for a couple of weeks and she came here on her days off. She got here Tuesday night and we took the boys and NeighborGirl to Sea World yesterday. NG and the boys went off on their own and rode rides while S and I did the shows and walked all over the place. She had to leave this morning but it was so good to see her. This is the first time she's been to my house down here and the first time she's met the boys. LittleBrother(11) really took to her and wanted to hang out whenever we were sitting around talking. That surprised me because he usually hides from strangers.

I took today as a vacation day because S and I had planned on going to the beach but the weather didn't cooperate this morning so she just went back to her hotel that's a few hours away. I think I was still tired from all the walking yesterday because the girls and I napped on the couch for the larger part of the day.

It's official - I can't eat jalapeno peppers like popcorn anymore. I swear, every time I've been to the bathroom today - Stinky Dog lays down in the line of sight of the doorway and Tiny Dog humps the hell out of her. It's kind of unsettling to try and do violent business in the bathroom with the "tap-tap-tap-tap" sound that Tiny's back feet make on the floor while she's humping. Very surreal.

I better go. Sweety just called and he's on his way home. I need to bathe and try to look presentable. Or clean at the very least.

It's Good To Be Clean

Let's say your wife meets someone on the internet and really likes them. Wants to be their friend because they have cool dogs. And she goes on vacation to meet internet friend and the first night they are alone - they hot tub together. Naked as the day is long.

Would this bug you?

It really bugged the shit out of Sweety last year. This year, we took photos to demonstrate just how large the tub is. It's not like we were even touching in there.




In that second photo, she's in an odd position because she fell in the tub when running to get back in after pushing the camera button. (That is also why we were cackling.) The tub was so big that we didn't even touch when she slid in like a race car into the pit.

You know what can really give a bubble bath a somber tone? When you look over at your tubmate and see that they are crying uncontrollably during the last part of the movie Titanic. I didn't want to openly gawk at her sobs so I peeked at her in the mirrors instead. I cry at movies. Little leaking tears. With Bekah, it was like she'd just fallen down and scraped both of her knees and both elbows.

We had a large time. Friday night we planted ourselves at the bar after drinking lots of rum in our room. That was the night that I helped Bekah have her first earplug experience. We put them in and then couldn't hear each other talk so we twittered and texted each other until we went to sleep. She decided that earplugs weren't for her because she didn't like the sound of her heartbeat. That sound reassures me that I'm still alive and makes it easier to fall asleep.

On Saturday night, we stayed in our room and played cards while drinking lots of rum. (Um, if I remember correctly, I let her win.) Right after we got in the tub that night, our phone started to ring but stopped by the time I got to it. Then, someone from the front desk came to our room to tell us that they'd gotten complaints that we were too loud. I really don't think we were that loud. I think the jacuzzi jets were too loud at that time of night. Or morning. Whatever.

I simply adore her and can't wait to do it again next year!

I Love My Pets. Really. I Do.

Once upon a time there was a Girl and her fish died.

So she got a new one.

He was a good fish.

One day, while in Wallyworld, The Girl decided that Pete7's bowl needed some jazzing up. Maybe he would appreciate some new rocks? Oh, look! Let's get these glass marble things that are red and gold! Now his bowl will match the color scheme on the table that he resides on!

Pete7 was happy for a few months. To be honest, The Girl never really looked at Pete7. She tossed him food sometimes but never really looked at him.

Until suppertime one night.

The Girl noticed that Pete7 had a giant tumor on his head. So giant that he could hardly swim straight.

Then, The Girl noticed that the pretty rocks were no longer pretty. They were plain and clear.

It appeared that the lead paint on the made in China marbles had flaked off. And now Pete7 had a hideous lump on his head. (I so wanted to take a cheese grater to it to try and "cure" him but Sweety vetoed the idea.)

Coincidence? I think not.

Pete7 fought a good fight and had a nice watery funeral a several weeks later.

I think I'm going to reflect on my pet ownership skills before adopting Pete8.

Friday's Post

I turned 32 yesterday. I celebrated by leaving work early and going to the doctor for a sinus infection. This is what I get for bragging a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't had one in a long time. Went to work this morning and sat in the parking lot long enough to decide that I really needed to go home. Came home to sleep with Tiny Dog all day. (don't worry, Sweety. the sheets are being washed as i type.)

We celebrated my birthday the day before because the boys were leaving yesterday morning for their mom's. They picked out some lovely flowers for me and Sweety picked up a cake. I was really surprised. I thought they were going to the grocery store for bleach.

BigBrother(13) decided that he wanted a MySpace page Wednesday night and asked me to help him make it. We did and set it on private and I warned him that "private" doesn't really mean "private" and to not have a false sense of security. (he immediately started pestering me to teach him how to hack into people's profiles but i told him no. that just doesn't seem like a good parenting move.) On Thursday, the COAEW calls Sweety to bitch that he didn't call her and discuss letting BB have a MySpace account. WTF? BB told me that his mother had offered to help him make one awhile back but he wasn't interested at the time. I think she was just put out that he asked me and not her. She told Sweety she didn't think it was safe that he was online. Sweety didn't mention that she has the boys' photos and names splattered all over her page and back when she was on the prowl, had photos of her in the bar and it was obvious that she lived alone with her 4 kids. She finally told him that it was okay if BB kept his MySpace as long as it was set to private. Uh, okay. Thanks for the approval!

She will totally shit her pants if she ever logs onto his account and then onto mine and sees the blog I keep there. It is a very sanitized version of this one. No mentions of the COAEW, cursing, drinking or sex. But I do speak of they boys and I do mention that Sweety has primary custody of them. That would be enough to chap her cellulite ridden face ass.

Do you let your kids watch movies that are rated older than they are? Since BB turned 13, he gets to see all PG-13 ones and LittleBrother(11) can too if we watch them first and deem them not too inappropriate. LB is a scary movie fiend and got to watch his first R rated movie while we were on vacation. The Blair Witch Project. I'm guessing it got the R rating for the constant use of the word "fuck" but he knows better than to speak like that. I've told the boys that I don't give a damn how they talk to each other at home (as long as there is no hitting) but they need to always be polite in public. Their favorite word right now? Butthole. If I've heard it once, I've heard it 1000 eleventy billion times.

Tasty Goodness

I mentioned that the laptop was the victim of a minor car accident. We got it back yesterday and it seems to be good as new. Now, one kid uses the laptop and the other uses the desktop and they play games together. It's great! They can't touch each other!

The day before vacation, The Almighty Sweety was kind enough to bestow unto me a new computer. A shiny new computer. It has an apple on the front. I think I love it. I'd never used a MacBook before and it is a bit different from what I'd always had. I look forward to conquering it and making it my bitch.

I picked up a jar of marshmallow fluff today to help show my gratitude. If you are ever at my house and see a jar of marshmallow fluff- do not eat any. All jars are violated by Sweety's penis.

Home Again

Vacation ended this past Sunday. I hated going back to work on Monday but was glad to get home and see Sweety.

While I was gone I didn't blog much but did twitter. Sweety kept up with me through the twitters and managed to really misunderstand some things. When he logged onto our house computer, I was logged onto twitter and it showed not only my twitters but the ones for everyone that I was following.

Amy had a tweet that was a photo of her son raising his eyebrow and I replied to it with something like "He's doing his eyebrow like The Rock but I bet he doesn't shave his body hair." Right under that, Sweety saw a tweet from Bekah "Some guy at the bar wants to buy our drinks. Anna says no but I say yes."

Two totally unrelated sentences but Sweety read them and thought I was flirting with some guy at the bar and he was giving me the eyebrow. He actually read these things the night after they had been posted but thought it was happening right then and sent me a wonderfully snide little text message.

Isn't technology great?

The wildest thing we did was jumped on the beds. I fell back and whacked my head on the headboard once. I'm just not as agile as I used to be.

I finished up some legal shit yesterday. Yay! There will be no trial (thank goodness. the idea of that made me want to vomit until i died.) and I have just enough money now to get a new washer and dryer. I know that Sweety thinks I should have pressed the issue some more but I just wanted it to be over.

A friend from work is moving and last night we met up at a restaurant and drank ourselves silly. Today I feel like I've been shot at and missed but shit at and hit.

I must get moving. Taking the sprogs to the movies.