Water Water Everywhere

It's a little soggy at the Cubicle Asylum this morning. 

The powers that be finally hired someone to fix our saggy old roof that leaks every time it sprinkles. Unfortunately it was probably the cheapest roofing company around, because anyone worth a big steaming snot booger would have thought to cover the roof with plastic after they finished ripping the top two layers off of it.

That night we had the first big, thunderous gullywasher that we've had in months.

PG's office is totalled. His computer, his desk, files.. oh and the carpet? Fugettaboutit. All the offices from the front door back to Lulu's got hit pretty hard. Mine was spared, not a drop of water to be found.

It's a mess ya'll. And it smells nasty.

Meanwhile back at the trailer, the grass is so tall I cringe with every step from the truck to the porch, just knowing a big ol snake is going to wrap around my ankle. I put off on the lawn mower thing in hopes that my Trashy Big-Boobed Cousin with the Lazy Eye would get the lead out of her keister and cut the damn grass. I mean, neither of them have a job, they could use the money and I hate to take that away from them, but our yard has only been mowed TWICE this year. I'm going to have to perform some advanced life support maneuvers on my credit card and see if I can squeeze a lawn mower out of it. 

I can't stand it anymore.

Our little veggie garden is flourishing, from what I can tell. I can't really get to it right now for the grass, but T.A. assures me that it's full of tomatoes and cucumbers. 

I can't wait for that first tomato sandwich, on white bread with salt & pepper and some mayo.

Anywho...

I'd better get back to work. Ya'll hump it hard this Humpday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Yes I'm Whining, Deal With It

It's hotter than a three dollar ho on Saturday night up in Frog Pond Holler today. I'm rockin' a pink camo bandaide on my gimp toe, my head is throbbing and I'm out of coffee until payday.

Sounds like Monday, huh?

Sometime Saturday I scraped that little bit of toenail that remains on my gimp toe against a blanket and bent it in all kindsa unnatural ways, causing me to utter very unladylike words at great volume.

That's a special kinda pain, ya'll. The kind that makes you re-examine the life you've lived and question what you could have possibly done in your past to deserve such torture.

It still hurts like hell.

Also? For those of you keeping score, Pupzilla ate the foam filter out of my vacuum cleaner. I had to take it out to clean it and had left it on the counter to dry. We suspect Miss Kittypuss knocked it in the floor and Ayla got it from her. She shredded it.

The list grows every day. In addition to the filter, she's chewed:

• a pair of nice squishy earbuds
• a Nikon camera
• countless plastic bottles
• my cellphone
• a cedar chest
• t.v. remote

There may be more.. I can't remember. I finally replaced the camera with an inexpensive little Casio that actually does more and takes better quality pictures than the Nikon. I can still use my cellphone, after I put it back together, but I don't think I'll chance it lasting out another two years. I'll have to get a new one when my contract comes up. The chest can be fixed, it's mostly just scratched and chewed a little. The earbuds were totaled. I can still use the remote, but there's a big button missing from it.

Oh she's got chew toys, cow bones, Kong toys, effin' logs from the wood pile that she drags around the house, she's just really hyper and it's been too hot to have her out much.

Black Husky fur in 90° heat makes for an unhappy pooch.

We have come to an agreement about the refusing to go outside though. She now understands that if she goes outside to do her business, she can come right back in where it's cool. The only time she has to stay outside is when I'm at work.

Occasionally The Amazon will take pity on her and let her in when she gets home.

Anywho...

It was a weekend of unpleasantness in the old trailer. In the middle of the day, when the sun seems to be parking itself right outside my window, our two little air conditioners can only do so much and it's still kinda sticky in the house. Plus, some of the people who live in my house, I'm not mentioning any names, were experiencing high levels of grump-ass and taking it out on everyone else.

So yeah, I'm almost kinda sorta glad it's Monday.

I'd better get back to work. The men folk are throwing their weight around this morning and I have to be ready to defend myself at a moments notice.

I love my job.

Ya'll have a kick ass Monday and we'll talk again soon, k?

Later Taters!!

It's a Fly-By

Last night while folding laundry, I lost one of my fantabulous pornstar nails, then this morning most of my throbbity toenail finally came off.

Is it moulting season already?

I had to do some minor surgery with office scissors, one corner of it is still hanging on for dear life. I saved it, not sure if I'll send it to the Cutie Patootie through inner office mail or just have it bronzed. 

The pornstar nail was saved with a Loctite intervention.

~*~

Have ya'll seen Miley Cyrus' new video? 

*cough*

I'm not going to pick on the child, lawd knows she's not been on this earth long enough to realize what the flippen hell she's doing to herself, but I can't watch the latest production without thinking of this:

Maybe she's not distanced herself from her rural raisin's as much as she thinks.

They all go through this stage, the youngin's who learn to strut their stuff for public consumption at a young age. It's the "I'm gonna be a grown up and show you my Hoo-Ha.. and I have BEWBIES!!!!" phase.

Bless her heart. That's all I'm sayin'.

Anywho...

I've been pulling some O.T. this week and working my can off, so I'll have to keep this short and sweet. We'll get caught up over the weekend. Pinkie swear.

Later Taters!

It'll Give You a Happy

Do you need to smile? Do you want to feel a little weepy with happiness over something so sweet it should come with a warning?

It's not about puppies or kittens, no one is snatched from the brink of death, there is no life lesson (well maybe.)

If you were ever a little girl or ever tucked one in at night, if you ever had a fantasy that couldn't possibly come true.. you'll want to read this.

It gave me the warm fuzzies. If you have a heart at all, it will you too. I sat in my cubey and found myself brushing away a tear or two of joy. Joy Unexpected.

You are welcome.

A Girl Could Starve Around Here

My day so far:

• I was 15 minutes late
• I found mouse poopy turds on my desk

It can go either way folks. Keep your fingers crossed.

And now:

Why I Have Unlimited Texting

6/18 10:58 am Me: (to The Amazon) I'm gonna work through lunch. Wanna bring me food?
11:06 am Me: HERROOOOHHHHHH
11:07 am Me: WAKEY WAKEY OR I TOSS YOUR LAPPY IN DA LAKEY
11:07 am Me: GIT UP
11:07 am Me: I'LL BUY U SAMMICH
11:16 am Me: OMG GET UP
11:41 am Me: *crawls across the floor reaching out for the sub in the distance.. but it is only a mirage*
12:39 pm The Amazon: you're such a drama nerd. If you wait 10-15 minutes, then order, it should be ready by the time I take a shower and come get $$ from you.
12:40 pm Me: U order it
12:40 pm T.A.: ... but..
12:45 pm Me: Doooooooooo eeeeeeeet
12:45 pm T.A.: but I dun wannnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
12:46 pm Me: OMG I AM STARVING
12:47 pm T.A.: lol fine! I'll call after my shower then come get $$
12:49 pm Me: Too.. weak...to ...reply.. lights.. getting.. dim.. must..have.. sustenance.. soon.. aaaaaaarrrrgggggghhhh
12:50 pm T.A.: well tell me what you want goober!
12:51 pm Me: Sammich.. long one. Wiff cheese
12:52 pm T.A.: tell me your order or I come hurt choo

So much love from the offspring. She'd let me fade away from hunger.. I'm sure of it.

Anywho...

Let's rock this Monday like Freddie Mercury in skin tight white jeans. Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!

I Am a Domestic Goddess

The heat and humidity in the holler today will suck the life right out of you, luckily I've got the ac set on "Arctic Northern Winter." It would freeze the balls off a polar bear in here.

I've never actually seen the size of polar bear balls, but I'm sure they're large and in charge.

The television is blaring tunes from satellite pop radio, the dishwasher is running and I've hauled three bags of trash as far as the front porch, with hopes that The Amazon will take the hint and take them to the cans by the curb before a bear or coyote catches a big whiff of them. Not that they can't smell them in the can, I'm just not fond of the idea of walking out on the porch to face Big Bertha Black Bear and her cubs.

I don't wanna die.

I worked nine hours yesterday, came home, brushed my hair, fed the dogs and turned right around and left for the nail salon. It's a new place so it was sort of slow and quiet. They had an Eagles DVD playing on the two big flat screens and the little guy who was doing nails was amazed that all three of his customers were moving their lips along with Glenn Frey and knew the words to every song.

After getting my sausage fingers morphed in to divalicious porn stars, I went to the World O' Wally for groceries. By the time I got home, got stuff put away and threw a Wally's Special pizza in the general vicinity of the oven, sat down and put my feet up, it was around ten. I don't remember much after that.

When I opened the microwave to nuke my oatmeal this morning (I'm not on a health food kick, there just weren't any clean forks or frying pans) I found two severely charred wieners in what had been a plastic wrapped four pack. Ma, apparently, has been practicing her cooking skills. Sooo yeah, I'll be scrubbing that little mishap for the next project on my list.

Ya'll have a killer weekend, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Puberty, Barney Fife and TGIF!

I'm so glad this week is almost in the can. Bossman is off on a long weekend, orders are rolling in and things are looking up every day.

After work, I'm heading to the new nail salon down by the new World O' Wally and getting mine done. I know, I've been saying that for a month, but I've felt like crap for that long and never felt like mustering the energy to decipher Vietnamenglish for a half hour. 

But today? Today I feel like a buck fifty eight a million bucks. I may even get that hair cut I've been whining about for forever. Maybe if I can stop rockin' the hag hair, sausage fingers look I'll come to life a little. 

Maybe.

 I guess I should probably buy groceries too. We're down to a bag of salmon fillets, three mini bagels and a third of a box of Uberterrific Valuepak Ultrathin Sketti noodles. Okay, that's not entirely true, I'm sure there's other stuff to eat, but nothing anyone really wants. We do, however, have lots of pet food. I broke down and bought the ginormous forty pound bag of name brand puppy food, with the chewy bits, for Pupzilla, just days before she suddenly decided she'd rather not eat it anymore. She wants the the other dog food, as long as she's eating it out of Sammy's and Yoda's bowls. 

Yeah.. we're going through the puppy version of puberty I think. Power struggles, temper tantrums and other fun stuff. As Barney Fife would say, "Nip it in the bud!"

Oh God. Did I just quote Barney Fife? 

*sigh*

Anywho...

I gotta go buckle down and tackle this data entry. Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

She Put a Cramp in My Butt Cheek.. Literally

The heat is on in Frog Pond Holler and as ya'll know, when temperatures rise, so do tempers.

The Drama Llama is out in full force.

About a year ago, they hired Darlene to do the cleaning and mowing here at the Asylum. When she came for her interview, Darlene told our plant manager that she needed a job, but not bad enough to work for Lulu's bubbahubby because he'd fired her son.

Personally, I would have taken that as a red flag and said hasta la bye bye baby. But that's just me. What do I know? I mean, when they're not even in the door yet and making demands, it's kinda sorta a hint at what's to come.

But Darlene was hired and at first, all was right with the world. I'll give her one thing, she's a cleaning fool. She can put a spit shine on the toilet that makes it sparkle and while her abundant use of air freshener early in the morning causes me to consider showing up in a Michael Jackson surgical mask, she did a pretty good job.

Then, about six months after she started, Darlene took issue with having to work in assembly when she ran out of cleaning to do. In the winter, when there's no lawn to care for, she would end up with extra time on her hands. In order to allow her to keep her hours, she was told she could work out on the floor. Well, she didn't like that and she marched her swishy little butt back to the GM's office and demanded a raise.

And she got it.

Well, Darlene's not been very popular around the Asylum since then. When everyone else has had a freeze on  their 18 month reviews and are walking around afraid of getting laid off, it's sort of a slap in the face.

Then? About a month ago, Darlene started parking her SUV up in the office parking lot. We're not a bunch of snots, I mean, there's extra spaces and if she wanted to park up there for whatever reason, no one would have said a word. But she was parking behind the line of spaces, long ways, in the middle of the parking lot in the path of all the ginormous 18 wheelers that come to make pick ups. I've darn near t-boned her truck on several occasions. We've already proven that I'm oblivious to what's behind me when I'm backing out. 

There's been lots of whispering amongst the folks out in the plant over why Darlene thinks she needs to park in the middle of oncoming traffic, but I don't think anyone said anything directly to her.

Yesterday morning, Lulu called from her office, "I want you to come here and look out in this parking lot."As I left my cubey she added, "There ain't no sense in that."

Looking out her window, I witnessed Darlene lying on her belly out on the black asphalt in the blazing 90° heat, digging bits of weed from the cracks with a screw driver.

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

I looked at Lulu, who burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Does PG know she's out there doing that?" I asked. 

"I don't reckon. You know she's just trying to get out of working in assembly."

"Mmmm hmmm. That girl ain't got a lick of sense. Don't you reckon that black top is burning her belly through that t-shirt? And what's gonna happen if a truck pulls up? She'll get squished like a squirrel out there."

Lulu was just as dumbfounded as I was. 

I should probably explain before I go on, that this was during a hormonally charged time in my life and it didn't take much to get my hackles up, lest ya'll think I'm just always channeling my inner Turbo Bitch. 

As I was leaving for lunch and trying to heave my big butt up in Jolene getting in the truck, Darlene appeared from no where, like a ninja. I tried to muster a pleasant expression as I stood there, one foot on the ground and one butt cheek hung up on the seat, mid-waller, when she asked, "Hey! I was a'tryin' to git them weeds up n' under yer truck, I crawled under thar with ma screwdriver but I couldn't git all of it. Would you mind parkin' down yonder when you come back from lunch?"

I wan't too thrilled with the idea of her crawling around under my truck with a screwdriver, regardless of the reason. And? I was getting a cramp in my butt standing there half hung up on the seat.

"We'll see," I answered as I lept on the tippy toes of one foot, trying to create enough force to will my other cheek in the truck.

As I pulled out, I didn't realize she'd then be walking, in no big hurry mind you, back to her vehicle sitting in the middle of the lot. I damned near ran her AND her SUV off the cliff. 

I was starting to get ticked off.

When I returned, I parked in the visitor space. As I fell out of my truck got out of my truck, there she was again.. materializing from thin air.. LIKE A FREAKIN' NINJA.. "I got them weeds while you wuz at lunch. You can move back over yonder if you wanna."

All I could muster was, "Whatever."

I marched straight into PG's office and told him his little honey was out there laying on her belly out in the parking lot picking weeds out of the asphalt with a screwdriver and if knew about it, fine, but she was gonna get run over and I was pretty sure that violated some kinda safety regulation or policy or some crap.

He thought I was joking. I led him to his window and showed him Darlene, her face now as red as a beet, her t-shirt soaked with sweat as she wallered across the parking lot on her belly like some kind of weird, mythological, woman headed snake.

"I'll give her credit," PG said, "she sure works hard to get out of working."

Later that day, bits and pieces of a slightly heated discussion between PG and Darlene were heard. Minutes later her SUV was moved and a bottle of Roundup was acquired for the weeds in the parking lot. 

Lawd have mercy. At least it's not boring. 

Ya'll have a humpalicious Humpday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.

Midnight Surprises

Gawd Almighty! Why is it so flippin' HOT up in this holler? Thank goodness we've got good a.c. at the Asylum now. No more boob sweat on the job. It should be an O.S.H.A. regulation.

Pupzilla, the arctic type doggy, has now decided that it is entirely too hot and humid for her to be bothered with going outside to pee. When she was just a wee thing, she was housebroken almost instantly. Now that she's 7 months old and summer is upon us, she's decided that she'll just squat wherever. In front of the t.v., beside my bed and hey.. why not just take a big ol' dump in the bedroom in the middle of the night? It's fun watching that naked woman leap out of bed, gasping for breath when the stink makes it way to her nasal passages.

I'm serious. I let her outside and she HOLDS IT until she comes back in.

T.A. says I should have her shaved. The innerwebs say never shave a husky. But she's only half husky, so what if I just shave half of her? Her butt is where most of the fur is. It's like a butt fro.

Maybe I could corn row it.

~*~

I spent the better part of my Sunday with my big ol' butt planted on our new loveseat, inches from the a.c., typing away on the first story in my collection of short stories about moving to the holler. I plan to publish the collection on Lulu.com in a real life, honest to goodness book (and probably a downloadable ebook version as well) which will lead to the use of senseless begging, pleading and bribing to create sales.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Anywho... I'd better get my butt back to work. Don't take any crap from this Monday. Own it people.

We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

When I'm the Sane One, We Have a Problem

Oh it's gonna be a craptacular day in Mahalaville. I can just feel it.

I had grand plans for the coming weekend. Me and T.A. worked on getting some housework caught up the past couple of days, then I was going to get a few groceries tonight so that I could spend the weekend not shopping for furniture, not folding laundry and not scrubbing various surfaces. I was going to kick back, write, sip bottled water and dream of the beach.

So last night, I was minding my own business, moving furniture and vacuuming while T.A. was out shopping with a friend when I over heard Ma on the phone. I figured she was talking to Aunt Moses and I didn't think much of it, until a about an hour later when my cell phone rang.

"Do you have the law over there," Aunt Moses asked as delicately as possible, "to take your mother to the nervous hospital?"

"Ummm no. But the night is  young."

"Oh," she said, "she's called me three times tonight talking craziness. So did you buy that house on the hill to stick her in it?"

"No."  The trailer on the hill is a sore spot with me. Ma's been asking me and T.A. twice a day for over a month when I'm moving in to it or do I have the keys yet.

I finally lost it on her the other day and informed her that if I EVER find myself financially stable again and can buy a new residence, it will NOT be a trailer and it will NOT be in Hee-Haw county. Making that statement was about as productive as farting in the wind when it came to getting Ma off my back, but it made me feel better.

Aunt Moses went on to grill me about my therapy, my medication and my menstrual cycle, because I am, after all, the bad seed of the family and this all must have been caused by something I had done.

"This is nothing new Mosie, Ma's always been crazy. Ya'll just chose to believe her bullshit instead of seeing the truth."

"Well, I wasn't a'callin' to fuss at 'cha or nothing. I just don't know what we're going to do about your mama," she added.

This is when I thought.. ya know.. the last time I asked Aunt Moses for some help with Ma, she said she wasn't dealing with her crazy ass. She was my mother and my problem. So I don't know why she suddenly thinks it's any of her damned business. To beat all, she acted like she didn't know about the deal with the trailer on the hill, yet Thelma here at the asylum knew all about it because Aunt Moses had asked Thelma's daddy (T.A.'s boss) if T.A. had moved out of the house yet, since I'd bought that trailer to stick her and Ma in.

WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?

This isn't even the inbred side of my family tree.

*Deep breath, moving on*

Sweet Manger Baby... it's Friday. And Lawd have mercy.. I am ready for it. I'm making a run to the World O' Wally after work to pick up a few things to last until payday, then I'm not doing anything else for the weekend other than writing, pulling a few weeds and stealing sloppy puppy kisses.

Ya'll have an awesometastic weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Catnaps and I Can't Afford Goodwill

Lawd ya'll. My writing schedule is all out of whack. I know what you're thinking... "there was a schedule?"

Just hush.

The new sofa and loveseat were delivered yesterday, fit through the door with no problem and has been stamped snooze approved by both myself and the Boston Baked Beagle. Thank gawd that's over. I wanted to take a picture of the old couch for ya'll before we hauled it off Monday, because I feel like I need to justify to the innerwebs when I spend a big chunk of change, but as I've mentioned previously... the dog ate my camera.

Just so you know, I didn't run right out and buy a new set. The Amazon and I spent all of last weekend going to every second hand, habitat, hospice and Goodwill store in Big City. Most of them didn't have anything, weren't open or wanted too much for used furniture. We ended up here and after sitting on, reclining in and wallering the snot out of everything in there I finally bought the set that was on sale.

My credit card is now on life support, but I can go home and sit down without fighting T.A. for the good side of the couch or sitting in a chair made for vertically challenged circus performers, with the broken arm which occasionally tosses you out in the floor.

I made three.. count 'em three.. trips to the dump Monday afternoon. In all honesty, I wasn't much help. T.A. and the 150 year old man who hangs out in the shed unloaded most of it. I'm pretty useless when it comes to heavy stuff anymore.

Anywho...

I'm counting the minutes 'til lunch when I can go home and stretch out on my new, reclining loveseat and catch a cat nap. Ya'll have a humpalicious Humpday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Comfy Couch Taters

It took galavanting all over Greenville, Tennessee Saturday, possibly permanently disfiguring my throbbity gimp toe, getting lost and witnessing a burning bush of biblical proportions down at the Micky D's...

But I bought a couch. AND a love seat. With dual recliners.. in both.

We'll be some laid back couch taters down at the trailer.

I think I got a deal, but who really knows. They're delivering them tomorrow, so I'm going to have to take off half a day today to get the old stuff out of the house and straight to the dump, clean the carpets and give the four legged occupants a stern talking to about wiping their feet and depositing drool on the new upholstery. Yes I know it's futile, but they like to let me pretend I'm in control once in a while.

Anywho...

If I'm going to leave at noon, I need to get my big bootay in gear and get some work done.

Work?.. me?.. I know, crazy right?

Ya'll have an awesometastic Monday. We'll talk again soon, when I can stop to come up for air.

Later Taters!!

I May Castrate a Mother Humper

Me and T.A. were piddling around the living room last night, picking up this and that, discussing finances and my pending dive into debt this weekend for a couch or loveseat or recliner... something.. to sit our butts on in front of the boob tube, when a call came over the scanner. Someone had seen a horse being pulled by a pick up truck on the highway.

T.A. was visibly disturbed by the report, but I explained to her that my uncle used to move his mean old Appaloosa between barns that way. He'd drive real slow with old Bandit tied to the back. Bandit wouldn't load in a trailer and if you tried to make him or got to close to him he'd bite the snot out of you.

I know this for a fact because Dear Old Dad liked to make me ride in the back of Uncle Mike's truck when Bandit was tied to the back so he could watch me dodge the crazy old horse's teeth. He used to get a big kick out of it, hollering "He's gonna gitcha!" out of the passenger side window...

But that's a story for another day..

Anywho...

I'd forgotten about the scanner report until I got to the Asylum this morning. Thelma appeared at Lulu's office door (we were discussing business.. honest) red faced and plumes of steam shooting out of her ears.

"I had to wait until you got here to tell this because I get so mad when I talk about it," she said. "When I got home yesterday, I was over at Dad's camper, standing outside and talking to him through the winder when I seen that crazy old Ed.. Do you know Ed?" she paused. I shook my head no and Lulu tried to explain to me who he was, finally ending with frustration, telling me she knew I'd know him if I saw him.

I still don't know who they're talking about.

"Anyways, crazy old Ed came FLYIN' up our road, boilin' up dust. He went around back behind that old backer barn where our property borders his and showed back up a couple of minutes later pullin' his horse behind him. He was movin' way too fast, but the poor old thing was keeping up okay until he hit the highway. Then it FELL.. TWICE.. and got flipped over on it's side and he just kept on going. I couldn't stand it, watchin' that poor animal scrambling, trying to get up and he was DRAGGING it behind his truck. I was madder'n a hornet. There ain't no sense in that. I called the sheriff's office and of course, they just told me to call animal control and THAT big dummy just said it was perfectly legal to lead your horse with a truck.. after I TOLD him what had happened. He said he was "familiar" with Ed and he'd give him a call but he was sure it was fine."


Fine?

Hello?

Poor old Thelma was about to bust a corpuscle. I gave her the email address of the woman I got Ayla from, the one who runs the animal shelter. Maybe she can light a fire under some people.

Me? Oh I'm going over to Mr. Ed's property after work. I need to see if the horses are visible from the road, where it's perfectly legal to take photographs of anything you can see on anyone's property, as long as you don't leave the asphalt.

I'm a firm believer that any man who needs to abuse animals to get his kicks, probably can't get his tiny little winky up any other way. Seriously, if you need to make something suffer to feel like a man, you ain't much of one.

I'm sure there'll be more to this story. I'll keep you informed as it develops. I may even post his name and address any other contact information. Who knows? I'm feeling right pissy over it at the moment. If our sorry assed county won't do anything.. well.. it'd be a shame if his horses were to suddenly, mysteriously disappear.

Just sayin'.

Later Taters.

Not for the Squeamish

Don't you just love the Tuesday morning following a three day weekend?

Yeah.. me neither.

At least it's the first of the month and the accounting department will have our whole system jacked up for most, if not all, of today, leaving me with nothing to do but file. Somehow, even the prospect of shuffling paper for eight hours seems like more than the three functioning brain cells I have this morning can handle.

I spent the better part of my holiday weekend whining about my big toe and trying to dodge Ma, who's been trying to drive me up the proverbial wall so she can call her sister and have it spread all over town that I'm having "anger issues."

She'd better thank God I'm not having "lock Mama in the closet" issues.

Our neighbors recently sold their rental trailer up on the hill by the house. Ma has decided that I must have bought it to move in to. Anytime me or The Amazon go near her she asks me if I'm having it moved down to our yard or if T.A. is moving in.

Oh and? She came strolling in Friday night, careful to wait until I'd spent a small fortune on groceries, slapping a bill down on the counter and informing me that I needed to pay it, she had other things to do with her money this month.

Dang. Must be nice to just pass your bills over to someone else when you don't feel like paying them. She's been doing me like that since I was 17.

Anywho...

I've been  having issues with another relative for the past couple months. Me and Aunt Flo are gonna fight if she doesn't chill the eff out. She used to come around once a month, visit for a few days and then leave. Oh sure, sometimes she'd bring her sisters Crampzilla, Bloatasia and AcneFay and there were days when I thought I'd need a transfusion before she left, leaving a bathroom that would put a CSI crime scene to shame, but she'd eventually leave, taking all her sisters with her and all would be right with the world.

But now?

The bitch will NOT go home. For over a month now, she shows up every damned morning, just long enough to piss me off. I never know if I need to be prepared or not. If she'd just go ahead and do her thing and get it over with, I'm sure we'd all feel better.

I'm so tired of being in a constant state of Bitchy McCrankypants. And... just being tired.

Oh yeah.. my toe.

My whole toenail is like... dark and dead looking. It'll go for days and be fine, then suddenly start bleeding and hurting like a mofo. I know it's just the nail RIPPING away from the nail bed as the new nail grows in, but dang.

Try to control your awe of my sexy. Someday your body parts will start to grow multicolored and leaky in preparation to fall off and you can be sexy too.

I'm depressed.

I need coffee.

I'm gonna go attempt to caffeinate myself while listening to an Outer Banks radio station, daydreaming about the day I move to a little Victorian house on Roanoke Island, far far way from Frog Pond Holler.

A girl's gotta dream.

Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!