Diary of an adult runaway: Right, said Fred!

aka Head v. Porn

Currently, there’s a large debate going on in the world of Romance–and in Texas.

Fred Head (Democrat, if you can believe it) is running for Texas Comptroller against Susan Combs.

From Mr. Head’s website:

Susan Combs claims to be a person of high moral standards. Her record of writing, having published and selling a pornographic book clearly shows that Susan Combs is a two faced, hypocrite who was obviously more concerned with her literary career and seeing her name in print than the morals of the young People of Texas who are exposed to her 222 page book, A Perfect Match, which has her name at the top of every other page – – – a clear testament to Susan Combs’ insatiable ego and desire to see her name in print.

I’m not even going to debate the ridiculousness of the statement about her ego. Has Mr. Head never read a book before?

More from his website:

Susan Combs has shown no remorse and made no apology for writing her pornographic book. Fred Head hereby challenges Susan Combs to fully explain to the People of Texas why she wrote a pornographic book, apologize to the People and withdraw from the race for Comptroller of Public Accounts.

And now she should apologize for the wonderful accomplishment of not only finishing a book, but managing to get it published? The nerve of that woman.

Comparing a romance novel to porn makes no sense. The basis of any romance is the growing love between consenting adults. Monogamy and happily ever after. The world could use more of that, in my opinon.

And now someone is anonymously hitting the blogs comments saying we’re all missing the point:

I think everyone is missing the bigger picture, Susan Combs wrote a book with sex and then Susan Combs took a public position during debate on a sex education (ABSENCE ONLY)
bill while she served as a State Representative. The point, Susan Combs is a hypocrite.

Fred Head is clearly stating the facts.

Please debate how you can write a book of this nature and then took a public position of sex education (ABSENCE ONLY) bill. Can’t have it both ways.

Sure you can. You can have it both ways. You know why? Becuase her book was about consenting adults, love, and happily ever after and has absolutely nothing to do with her personal stance on Abstience for children. (I’m assuming he meant abstinence…)Grow up. Get a life. And realize that one has absolutely nothing at all to do with the other.

By the way, Mr. Head…one has to wonder if you realizedthat the headquarters for Romance Writers of America is located in the great state of Texas. Our membership is 9000+ and growing and we’re very proud of what we do. We’re mothers, fathers, spouses, teachers, professionals, and we’re all mad as hell at the thought that you would judge us based on the fact that we write “sex books”.

There is no shame in sex. There is no shame in writing about monogamy, and love, and happily ever after.

But there is great shame in trying to twist the facts to serve your sad little campaign. However, you did manage to eek out some free publicity, so I guess your rhetoric did serve one purpose.

Shame on you.

Diary of an adult runaway: Right, said Fred!

aka Head v. Porn

Currently, there’s a large debate going on in the world of Romance–and in Texas.

Fred Head (Democrat, if you can believe it) is running for Texas Comptroller against Susan Combs.

From Mr. Head’s website:

Susan Combs claims to be a person of high moral standards. Her record of writing, having published and selling a pornographic book clearly shows that Susan Combs is a two faced, hypocrite who was obviously more concerned with her literary career and seeing her name in print than the morals of the young People of Texas who are exposed to her 222 page book, A Perfect Match, which has her name at the top of every other page – – – a clear testament to Susan Combs’ insatiable ego and desire to see her name in print.

I’m not even going to debate the ridiculousness of the statement about her ego. Has Mr. Head never read a book before?

More from his website:

Susan Combs has shown no remorse and made no apology for writing her pornographic book. Fred Head hereby challenges Susan Combs to fully explain to the People of Texas why she wrote a pornographic book, apologize to the People and withdraw from the race for Comptroller of Public Accounts.

And now she should apologize for the wonderful accomplishment of not only finishing a book, but managing to get it published? The nerve of that woman.

Comparing a romance novel to porn makes no sense. The basis of any romance is the growing love between consenting adults. Monogamy and happily ever after. The world could use more of that, in my opinon.

And now someone is anonymously hitting the blogs comments saying we’re all missing the point:

I think everyone is missing the bigger picture, Susan Combs wrote a book with sex and then Susan Combs took a public position during debate on a sex education (ABSENCE ONLY)
bill while she served as a State Representative. The point, Susan Combs is a hypocrite.

Fred Head is clearly stating the facts.

Please debate how you can write a book of this nature and then took a public position of sex education (ABSENCE ONLY) bill. Can’t have it both ways.

Sure you can. You can have it both ways. You know why? Becuase her book was about consenting adults, love, and happily ever after and has absolutely nothing to do with her personal stance on Abstience for children. (I’m assuming he meant abstinence…)Grow up. Get a life. And realize that one has absolutely nothing at all to do with the other.

By the way, Mr. Head…one has to wonder if you realizedthat the headquarters for Romance Writers of America is located in the great state of Texas. Our membership is 9000+ and growing and we’re very proud of what we do. We’re mothers, fathers, spouses, teachers, professionals, and we’re all mad as hell at the thought that you would judge us based on the fact that we write “sex books”.

There is no shame in sex. There is no shame in writing about monogamy, and love, and happily ever after.

But there is great shame in trying to twist the facts to serve your sad little campaign. However, you did manage to eek out some free publicity, so I guess your rhetoric did serve one purpose.

Shame on you.

Week 2 of the Walk to Run training and what do I find?

A swollen knee.

Now, I give Fishdog a hard time constantly about remembering his true age. I don’t want him to stop participating in every sport known to man but I just want him to remember that he’s gonna hurt a little more than he used to. And that he’s not necessarily as quick and agile as he used to be.

That’s not easy for him to do.

Well, it seems I may have to swallow my own advice pill. My body has decided that no matter how young I am at heart…my joints are not.

I have never had knee problems. As an athlete, I always had ankle problems–and I’ve been half-expecting ye auld cricky ankles to give out on me now that I’m attempting to find my athletic self again.

It seems that my left knee needed a bit of attention. It doesn’t hurt, but it is swollen. And the swelling isn’t going down with ice and aleve. Grrr. So, I guess I’ll stop running on the pavement and continue with the eliptical until I can get the swelling to go away. Grumble Grumble.

Where is that magic pill?

Week 2 of the Walk to Run training and what do I find?

A swollen knee.

Now, I give Fishdog a hard time constantly about remembering his true age. I don’t want him to stop participating in every sport known to man but I just want him to remember that he’s gonna hurt a little more than he used to. And that he’s not necessarily as quick and agile as he used to be.

That’s not easy for him to do.

Well, it seems I may have to swallow my own advice pill. My body has decided that no matter how young I am at heart…my joints are not.

I have never had knee problems. As an athlete, I always had ankle problems–and I’ve been half-expecting ye auld cricky ankles to give out on me now that I’m attempting to find my athletic self again.

It seems that my left knee needed a bit of attention. It doesn’t hurt, but it is swollen. And the swelling isn’t going down with ice and aleve. Grrr. So, I guess I’ll stop running on the pavement and continue with the eliptical until I can get the swelling to go away. Grumble Grumble.

Where is that magic pill?

One of the lads will be here in 10 days. Grant is coming for a visit before he returns home to Sunny Scotland. He’ll be here exactly two months after his “brother” Simon, returned home to Sunny England.

This will be a special visit with Grant because his parents will be here as well. They are flying over this week to spend some time with their wee lad and see America. They are driving from Nebraska, to Kentucky to Tennessee, then down to Oxford. They’ll spend five days here so we’re putting together some touristy and historical things for them.

On the writing front, I didn’t accomplish much this weekend. Friday night, I walked with my friend then we ended up going over to her house for some wine and dinner while Ian was at the movie with his girlfriend. Yes, Ian has a girlfriend. Apparently it’s a pretty steady thing–they’ve been “together” since the beginning of school this year. He spends his allowance on their Friday night “dates”. It’s pretty cute. I’m not too worried about anything yet, as he still tells me everything.

I’m waiting for that to change. I’m hoping it won’t.

Then Saturday we went to Fishdog’s godson’s birthday party. He is one year old now and is as cute as a button. But despite the fun we had at the party, Saturday did not end well. Fishdog came down with the stomach bug and spent all night and much of yesterday praising the porcelin gods.

He doesn’t praise quietly, btw.

So, I spent yesterday doing laundry. (Very much unlike me, I know) Not only did I wash all the clothes…but I folded them AND put them away. Everyone, make note of the date because that will NEVER happen again.

I also came up to the office for about 4 hours to make sure I was caught up on work, just in case I had to miss a day this week. I figure we’re not done with the bug, I just hope I’m not the one who gets it.

Then I finished cleaning Rader’s room and started on Ian’s. And I donned my gas mask and coveralls and hosed down the masterbath with enough clorox to disinfect the Mississippi River.

Yup. No writing. But hey, it was a productive weekend in other ways.

One of the lads will be here in 10 days. Grant is coming for a visit before he returns home to Sunny Scotland. He’ll be here exactly two months after his “brother” Simon, returned home to Sunny England.

This will be a special visit with Grant because his parents will be here as well. They are flying over this week to spend some time with their wee lad and see America. They are driving from Nebraska, to Kentucky to Tennessee, then down to Oxford. They’ll spend five days here so we’re putting together some touristy and historical things for them.

On the writing front, I didn’t accomplish much this weekend. Friday night, I walked with my friend then we ended up going over to her house for some wine and dinner while Ian was at the movie with his girlfriend. Yes, Ian has a girlfriend. Apparently it’s a pretty steady thing–they’ve been “together” since the beginning of school this year. He spends his allowance on their Friday night “dates”. It’s pretty cute. I’m not too worried about anything yet, as he still tells me everything.

I’m waiting for that to change. I’m hoping it won’t.

Then Saturday we went to Fishdog’s godson’s birthday party. He is one year old now and is as cute as a button. But despite the fun we had at the party, Saturday did not end well. Fishdog came down with the stomach bug and spent all night and much of yesterday praising the porcelin gods.

He doesn’t praise quietly, btw.

So, I spent yesterday doing laundry. (Very much unlike me, I know) Not only did I wash all the clothes…but I folded them AND put them away. Everyone, make note of the date because that will NEVER happen again.

I also came up to the office for about 4 hours to make sure I was caught up on work, just in case I had to miss a day this week. I figure we’re not done with the bug, I just hope I’m not the one who gets it.

Then I finished cleaning Rader’s room and started on Ian’s. And I donned my gas mask and coveralls and hosed down the masterbath with enough clorox to disinfect the Mississippi River.

Yup. No writing. But hey, it was a productive weekend in other ways.

When my little piggies traveled to Auburn yesterday, the world (ok, the college sports world) just assumed that Arkansas was no threat to the #2 Tigers.

Guess maybe they’ve changed their minds, now.

Arkansas Razorbacks: 27 Auburn Tigers: 10

Go Hogs!

I love a good upset–especially when it’s my little piggies doing the upsetting.

My deepest sympathies to my friends the Greenoes and the Evans.

Can I get a Woo Pig Sooie?

When my little piggies traveled to Auburn yesterday, the world (ok, the college sports world) just assumed that Arkansas was no threat to the #2 Tigers.

Guess maybe they’ve changed their minds, now.

Arkansas Razorbacks: 27 Auburn Tigers: 10

Go Hogs!

I love a good upset–especially when it’s my little piggies doing the upsetting.

My deepest sympathies to my friends the Greenoes and the Evans.

Can I get a Woo Pig Sooie?

Regular readers of this blog know what a handful my youngest child can be. He’s entertainment on a stick–no doubt about it.

Last year, the art teacher did not appreciate it when Rader announced in class that he could lick his nipples. Of course, as mother of the year, I acted appropriately. (after laughing my ass off…) I do find humor in this type of thing. He’s only eight years old, after all. However, I did talk to him about inappropriate subjects at school, and licking nipples did fall under that category.

Okay, well the art teacher obviously has a low “inappropriate threshold”. She called just a few mins ago:

Me: Hello?
Stupid Art Teacher: Is this Rader’s mom?
Me: Yep.
SAT: This is his stupid art teacher. I had trouble with him saying inappropriate things last year and this year is no better. He just had a very inappropriate conversation at the table with another little boy and there was a little girl sitting right next to him!
Me: (worrying at this point, cuz Rader does have quite the vocabulary and imagination…) Oh? What did he say?
SAT: Well, I didn’t hear it, but the little girl told me he was talking about using the bathroom on the sidewalk.
Me: (definitely worried now) Hm. But you didn’t hear it?
SAT: No, but he’s right here if you wanna talk to him.
Me: Absolutely. Put him on.
Rader: Mom. (kinda mumbling)
Me: Son. Tell me what you said. Exactly.
R: I was talking to Eddie about a video game and I said if you do #1 on the sidewalk you’ll get arrested.
Me: Yeah, but what did you say? Exactly. Did you say Pee? Piss? God, Rader, did you say Piss??
R: NO! I said do #1.
Me: Do #1? That’s it? Nothing else?
R: I promise.
Me: Put Stupid Art Teacher back on phone please.
SAT: Thank you for talking to him.
Me: I’m not so sure you’re gonna thank me in a second. Can you tell me exactly what is “inappropriate” about this? (I repeat the conversation) Because, I’m not finding that inappropriate at all, unless he was breaking a “no talking rule” at the time.
SAT: (Huffing and Puffing) WELL. I find that kind of talk VERY inappropriate.
Me: Ma’am. If he’d have used inappropriate language like “piss” that would’ve been inappropriate.
SAT: GASP
Me: But he’s 8. And he didn’t say anything inappropriate. And I’m trying to figure out why you’re calling about the sentence “If you do #1 on the sidewalk, you’ll get arrested.” when A: it’s true and B: you didn’t even hear him say it in the first place.
SAT: (more huffing and puffing) It’s OBVIOUS that you and I have different ideas on what is inappropriate. I’m sorry I wasted your time.
Me: Please feel free to call me any time.

Honestly. If she wants inappropriate, I can give her inappropriate.

EDITED TO ADD:
My friend suggested Rader take her this if she really wants to see inappropriate:

I do love Halloween.

I haven’t decided what I’m going to be this year though. This was me last year:

And the year before I was a Beer Wench (appropriate, eh?) and White Trash Barbie. Sorry, no pictures to serve as proof–but trust me, I was cute.

And the year before that, I was this:My kids have both decided, much to my shagrin, to be some form of clown. Ian would like to be a “Gangsta Clown” and Rader has decided to be “Slap Happy Clown”. Apparently, both clowns are exactly the same:

Have I told you how much I hate clowns? It’s a deep rooted fear. Might even be worse than my spider issue. Of course, this fear was cemented after I read Stephen King’s It. And then, just in case that hadn’t been enough to scar me for life, I decided to watch the movie, too. Yeah, sometimes I’m not so bright.

As long as I can remember, I’ve hated clowns. There are only two exceptions to this and they are Bozo and Ronald McDonald. So, maybe I should make the boys go as Gangsta Bozo and and Slap Happy Ronald. LOL Somehow I don’t think that’ll fly.

Of course, those two rotten kids of mine know how much I hate clowns which makes their decision even more fun. This year’s Halloween should be interesting…