2 unrelated topics

Yesterday, around 2:00, a Drunky McDrunkDrunk missed the curve going about 70 mph, did a General Lee ramping move over my driveway, and took out my giant (and beautiful) forsythia bush. I had been planning to trim it back, but…not this much.

He tried to assist me further with my landscaping by spreading my forsythia all over the yard.

He landed with a giant thud on my neighbors tree. Which is a good thing, because he was headed straight for a building.

He was being followed by his grandson who was trying to stop him from driving. Apparently, he ran out of booze and was headed to the County Line…about a mile from our house.

BTW, nobody was hurt. Except my forsythia….

In other, much more positive news, I’ve revived my old exercise blog: Fat Chicks Running. I signed up for a 5 week boot camp that starts tomorrow and I figure I’ll be doing a lot of kvetching while I bring the sexy back. Hope you’ll drop by and enjoy the show.

you know his speech was bad when…

Even FOX NEWS calls Paul Ryan a big fat liar…

Do me a favor, go to FactCheck.org and read the non-partisan facts about both candidates/parties and their rhetoric. Just do it instead of being all Yellow Dog or Tea Bagger.

I’m the biggest liberal on earth but I (probably)would have voted for McCain had he been the nominee instead of Dubya. I didn’t agree with him 100% but…he had a spine. He stood for something and ran on his own platform. But since he didn’t tow the party line, he didn’t get the nom. Sadly, he caved to party demands when he ran against Obama and completely flip-flopped on his core beliefs…and to make matters even worse, he chose that dumbass as a running mate. Talk about shooting himself in the foot. Geez.

Mitt Romney did the same thing, btw. He has completely flipped his switch. Check this out…what he always believed in vs. his current platform. You can’t deny this…since it’s Mitt Romney’s own words.

Here’s Fact Check’s rundown of Ryan’s speech. He’s a liar with a big fat L-I-A-R. The Republican party isn’t even trying to hide the fact they’re lying…they are just running on the belief they think they’re smarter than the people who are voting for them.

Sorry, I try not to talk politics much on this blog, but I have to say, our country is headed in a direction that frightens me as a woman and as an American. I can’t imagine anyone would actually willingly vote for these two guys. Especially anyone with a vagina. These two douches are freaking sketchy and dishonest and they support taking away women’s rights bit-by-bit. Paul Ryan actually had the nerve to call rape another “method of conception” as his justification for denying the right to choose for women and girls who are victims of rape and incest. Before you know it, they’ll be forcing women to marry their rapists because it says so in the bible. (I mean, that’s how they justify everything else, right?)

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. People who blindly follow their party instead of asking questions scare me. Are people really so stupid that they can’t see where this regime will take us if we allow it? Religiously based governments are only good for those in power. And they’re never good for women. Like Obama or not, these two misogynistic assholes are NOT good for the country (unless you’re a white male who makes 7 figures.)

ETA: They REALLY AREN’T hiding the fact that they’re running on lies. Check this out: (from the mouth of a Romney Aide)

 “Fact checkers come to this with their own sets of thoughts and beliefs, and we’re not going to let our campaign be dictated by fact checkers,” he said. The fact-checkers — whose institutional rise has been a feature of the cycle — have “jumped the shark,” he added after the panel.

Damn you FACT checkers for CHECKING THE FACTS and telling everyone we’re liars. But that’s okay because we don’t care. We know there are people blindly following us no matter we say… Fact Checkers. Bah. UGH.

so here’s the deal…

What happened to freedom of speech?

What happened to the right to your own opinion?

What happened to freedom of choice? (hahahahahaha this one is my favorite.)

Why are we focusing on small issues like this? There are bigger things in this world to worry about.

These are the majority of the arguments I see when it comes down to the Chick-Fil-A protest. Now I can’t answer for anyone but myself, but I’m guessing I’m not the only one who shares this opinion.

(warning, I’ve been fighting a horrid cold since Sunday and right now I’m high on Alka-Seltzer Plus Cold medicine…)

I would argue that our right to protest and Dan Cathy’s opinion both fall under freedom of speech, opinion and choice. This is a free country. Period.

However, I’m not protesting Dan Cathy’s opinion or his religious beliefs. I am protesting a business lobbying and funding millions of dollars against human rights. I don’t care how you feel about homosexuality, I care that we are all human and we all have the same rights. Your religious beliefs have nothing to do with the rights of every single human in this country. NOTHING.

Chick-Fil-A  has donated millions of dollars to the hate group Family Research Council, a group that equates homosexuality with pedophilia and who would like to see sodomy and other “homosexual” acts re-criminalized.

Let me ask you this: If Chick-Fil-A had donated millions of dollars to an active Neo-Nazi/White Supremacist Group or a Anti-Women’s Rights group would you still think that chicken sandwich tasted so damn good?

To me, they are the same thing. Human rights. And it’s okay if you don’t agree with my stance but please don’t kid yourself that supporting Chick-Fil-A isn’t supporting their anti-human rights agenda, because it is. They will gladly take your money and funnel it on to a hate group.

This is about Human Rights. And withholding my $4.00 from them may not do much, but at least I know that I’m not actively supporting hate.

to the water!

It’s only Wednesday and all I can think about is Friday, noonish…because I’ll be lake bound with Jefe, the boys, and Robyn and her kids! And we’ve got a couple of other friends joining us Saturday for fun in the sun on a party barge.

I’ve missed going to our lakehouse this year. Our party barge is out of commission, so we haven’t had as much time up there as we’d like. However, this weekend will change all of that.

I predict some or all of these things will occur:

I absolutely can.not.wait.

The below message is intended for one person and one person only. If your name isn’t “Anonymous” you can just skip this…

Dear Anonymous Troll,

I’m sorry you’re so sad and pathetic that you have to keep popping up with little notes to me every few months. I know I’m awesome. I know you aren’t.  I don’t fucking care anymore. Get yourself medicated or go to hell. Or both. And please, if you’re gonna email me or troll my blog…PLEASE learn to spell. You just look like a fucking moron otherwise. Also, it’s been damn near two years…find yourself a life.

Love,
Melf

ETA:
ps: No. I’m not going to ask about anything you tell me to ask about. This is just a desperate ploy for attention and an attempt to play at insecurities that just aren’t there. YOU are not relevant and you need to understand that. I don’t care about the past. I care about the present.. I hope you do find peace someday. Truly. Good luck.

things i’ve learned being at home all week

  • Kathie Lee and Hoda make my brain hurt. DO.NOT.WANT.
  • Ditto for Rachael Ray.
  • I can totally make organic everything, yummy food, plan an imaginary wedding, decorate my imaginary house, and go on a fantasy vacation thanks to a couple of hours spent staring at Pinterest.
  • I despise everything Mitt Romney stands for and it’s going to be hard to keep my mouth shut. And I probably won’t but I’ll try to only use my Tumblr account to spout off about his moronic, hypocritical politics. The ONLY good thing about this election year is that Sarah Palin isn’t involved. Speaking of morons…/political ranting
  • I love talking to El Jefe about everything from plotting my stories to spending our lottery winnings. 
  • I wish I could go to work in my pajamas.
  • I used to find Daniel Tosh funny but after his recent “jokes” about rape, I’ve changed my mind. Rape isn’t funny, kid. Grow up.
  • Viacom needs to suck it up and give DirecTV customers access to Comedy Central again. This pissing contest is for the birds.  
  • Nancy Grace is a bitch. She has no compassion.
  • Melinda Gates is awesome.
  • Aaron Sorkin has done it again. The Newsroom is one of the best shows on TV right now.
  • I miss my kids even though I’ve been sickly all week. I even miss Rader’s non-stop talking. 

I couldn’t stay away…also HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICK?

It’s weird, not blogging.

You know that saying when it rains, it pours? I swear it’s like someone opened Pandora’s box of ugliness over the past week or so and all I have to protect me from the rain is a shredded umbrella.

Anyway, I was deleting some anonymous mean-girl type comments on my blog this morning (this is becoming a very frustrating habit. I love how being “anonymous” gives people balls on the internet) when I ran across an entry from 2006 that made me smile…

So I share that smile with you:

8 year old logic

So, I was “coaching” my youngest son’s soccer team last night. And by “coaching” I mean I was standing in front of the bench yelling “Follow your kicks! Attack the ball! What are you waiting on, an invitation?” Yes, I’m a helluva coach.

In my defense, I did refuse to coach anymore because it’s getting to the point where you have know the rules. And I don’t know diddly about soccer. I should. I’ve given birth to 2 soccer players who have both been playing since they were 3 years old. But no. The soccer rules and I have not become one in the universe. But, I’m coaching because fishdog signed up to coach both boys. Which would be fantastic if the boys didn’t play at the same time. And since they have been playing at the same time, I’ve been “choosing” the lesser of two evils by coaching the 8 year olds. And by “choosing” I mean, not having a choice at all.

Where was I? Oh yes. “Coaching” soccer.

My son, Rader, is very determined and competitive. Soccer is a team sport and we (I say we because if I HAVE to coach the games, I should get some credit) try very hard to make the kids understand that. But last night, the kids didn’t understand anything. It was more like kickball than soccer. Herding snails would’ve been easier.

Rader decided he was Superman Soccer last night and took it upon himself to win the game. Forget the team. He didn’t need no stinkin’ team. He was Rader the Fearless. He could do it. And he did score our only two goals. (we’re not going to mention how many goals the other guys scored) But he also managed to wind up bashed around quite a bit. He took one hit to the nards that had him sitting for a while. I thought for sure he’d be talking in a higher octave for a day or two.

“Rader, what’s the deal? Have you forgotten you have 3 other teammates out there? They can help you if you let them.”

He sighed and did a semi-roll of the eyes. “Mom. It’s obvious they don’t want it bad enough. Besides, you can only help those who help themselves.”

Can’t argue with that logic, I guess.

In other smiley news, Happy Birthday to my best male friend, a man I consider a brother, and Ian’s godfather…Nick-O-Lust. I love you man…I miss your vodka inspired 20 minute messages and I can’t wait to hug you again when you visit in May. xoxo

this picture says it all

Bobcat Greyskull has been mostly on his own for a few days since my air has been out of service and we haven’t been staying at the Easy Bake Oven house. Last night, I stayed there (even with 3 fans pointed toward the bed, I was soaked with sweat until after 2 am). Anyway, BCGS was in full Spazzatron mode last night. That look you see there? That’s what I experienced for 4 hours non-stop.

I have been punished appropriately for my sin of abandoning him. I apologize BCGS. I won’t let it happen again.
This morning, I bounce out of bed, totally well-rested force myself upright, rubbing the lack-of-sleep tension out of my neck and shoulders, get ready for work, hop in the car…only to see the SERVICE ENGINE light come on. And when the car is in idle…it’s revving. On its own. Like it belongs in a Stephen King novel…
Mom offers a ride. We head toward Little Rock with a song in our heart…only to be rear ended by some idiot who said “I slammed on my brakes!” No dude. You slammed into us. Anyway, my momma let him have it. I’m pretty sure he had no idea that a 72 year old, 5 ft tall woman could be such a badger. She made him take his bluetooth ear piece out and told him he needed to start paying attention to the cars in front of him, not whoever he had on the phone.
There was no damage, which was good, but he hit us hard enough that I was jolted forward and I will probably be hitting a chiropractor this week.
And that was my past 24 hours….so how was yours? I think I’m winning the one-up stories lately! So go ahead and try to beat me…

an update on LUMPY the LONE DUKE OF HAZARD

El Jefe and I met at the Compound for lunch o check out the damage to the once awesome and pristine driveway of gravel.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, however, it was interesting. Lumpy totally caught air after he hit my culvert and I bet he didn’t land for 12 feet. It was pretty amazing actually. We found nails, rocks, truck parts, gloves, a paint pan, BBQ Sunflower seeds, a mint, and a quarter strewn about in the yard. Like WAY STREWN ABOUT. Almost to the house. His truck literally ripped the nails straight out of the landscape timbers. STRAIGHT OUT. AS IN NOT BENT. There are giant rocks that flew from my culvert and landed probably 50 yards away.
Behold Lumpy’s Trail of Tears. or would that be Beers?






Here is a collection of stuff from my front yard.


and yes. You are seeing that correctly. He killed my flamingo. Lumpy is gonna pay.

+500 FRUSTRATION; -1000 in awesome.

Remember a long time ago, way back last weekend when we backed it up like a Tonka Truck with a load of gravel? Me, the boys & El Jefe worked our asses off. We raked, shoveled, tamped, & spread for damn near the entire weekend.

And the end result was beautiful:

So imagine my utter horror and dismay last night when my mother calls to tell me that some drunk asshole took the curve at warp speed, missed it entirely, AND TOOK OUT MY BRAND NEW FUCKING EFFING DRIVEWAY.

El Jefe was all “Do you wanna go home and check it out?” and I was leaning toward YES when I got my first text from my brother with pictures.
And then I was all “Hell no because I would pick up a shovel and beat that man down with it. IN FRONT OF THE COPS.” (because I’m hard like that) Frankly, I’m not cut out for jail time and even though his murder would have been totally justified in redneck court, I couldn’t take the chance.



BTW, the asshole had LUMPY on his tailgate. Yeah. LUMPY. I’m thinking he had a few lumps after he hit my culvert and left pieces of his truck in my yard. He also told the police he’d just been at the tattoo parlor. I’m guess he’d gotten quite loaded before he got his brand new LUMPY tattoo over his heart.
And you know what? Today is Wine Wednesday and I can’t even go. WHICH MAKES ME HAVE A SAD.
Grumble. Grumble. Piss and Moan. Somebody say something funny or cast a spell of awesome on me or put a hex on Lumpy. C’mon. Make today better…
BTW, my Bachelorette Episode 6 Recap is up at HDJM. Bentley the Super Douche returned on Monday and I recorded it all in its douchetastic glory.

even smart women are sometimes stupid

Boys and Girls of the Internetz, something very weird happened to me last night and I’d like to tell you all about it so we can all learn a very important lesson.

After my weekly Girls’ Night Out, I had to stop at the store for Kitty Food and Litter. (super sexy, I know) I wanted to go to Target, but sadly, our Target is not 24 hours so I had to go to WarMart. Now, it’s about 11:15 and since I’m no dummy, I park under a light, fairly close to the store. I’m not afraid to go to the store at night, and I’m usually very aware of my surroundings, and very aware of the people in my area.

I checked out and was walking to the car when this very handsome man called out to me and approached me. He had been talking to some folks in another car and that car drove off.

I kept walking toward my car and he walked alongside me, gave me his first name and said, “I never do this, but you are so beautiful that I knew I would regret it if I didn’t stop and at least get your name.”

I said “My name is Mel and thank you, that’s very flattering.”

I started walking again.

“I’d love to take you to dinner sometime.”

I smiled. “Well, I appreciate that, but I don’t have dinner with strangers who stop me in the middle of the night at walmart. Also, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it very much.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Okay, well, it’s been nice meeting you. Thank you for the ego boost.”

He doesn’t stop. He says “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it.”

I said, “No, it’s because this is a Walmart parking lot in the middle of the night and I have a boyfriend.”

I pick up my keys and put three of them between my fingers and prepare myself to jab him in the eyes. I’m not scared yet, but I’m no longer feeling like he’s harmless either.

He says, “If you really had a boyfriend, he wouldn’t let you shop in the middle of the night by yourself.”

“I’m a grown woman, nobody let’s me do anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

He starts saying that “Fate brought us together. We met here for a reason…”

Uh, dude. It’s Walmart. Am I fated to be with everyone I’ve ever shopped with at the same time? I don’t think so. I get to my car and he offers to put my bags in the trunk for me, telling me the whole time how good he would be for me, how nice he would treat me, how I would always feel beautiful and special…

Okay, at this point, I’m a little freaked out. Mr. Handsome Business Man has just become the mayor of FruitcakeVille and he wants me to be his First Lady. No thanks.

I make sure I look at the cameras in the parking lot so they can see my face just in case things go badly. Then I take my basket away from the car, so I can get him away from my car. He walks with me and this is when I knew I was going to have a problem.

“I’d feel better if I could follow you home.”

UH. No. I said, “Listen, I know you probably think you’re being a gentleman right now, but it’s just creepy and I am going to politely ask you to leave me be. I need to get home and no you can’t follow me.”

I get into my car and he walks to his very nice BMW. I drive out of the parking lot, and I swear to God the man pulled out behind me. He did follow me for a bit, so I took a different route, got on the interstate and drove two exits past mine. He actually went the other way once I got on the interstate, but by this point I was freaking out and soooooooo didn’t want to take any chances.

I was up for a while last night, calming down. I learned something about myself…I’m too damn approachable and friendly. I need to be hardcore scary. I have never had anything like that happen to me, but now I’m thinking I may need to take a self-defense class…or as El Jefe suggested, possibly start packing heat. (ok, I can’t imagine I’d ever actually carry a gun.)

Ladies, please be smarter than me. I should never have let that conversation get started. And once it did, I should have turned around and gone back into the store. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks…