Sucky Vampires

The snow is dumping by bucket loads like that old storyline on General Hospital when the Cassadines changed the weather and made an arctic winter in Port Charles falling peacefully on Frog Pond Holler this Monday morning, turning the entire town into a redneck amusement park with Bubbahubbies in four wheel drives sliding off the road while letting loose with a primal rebel yell, just before their truck plows to a stop in front of the beer store winter wonderland full of sparkling ice and beauty.

I was pretty much stuck in the house all weekend, but we had free Showtime and even though the Directv is still screwed (after three visits from their "technicians" to "fix" it) I still managed to see both Twilight and New Moon... finally.

Don't judge me. It's not like there's a movie theater here in Podunk.

I tried to like it. I did. I wanted to get into it, be excited like everyone else in the civilized world, but I just couldn't. Why? Well...

1. Bella gets points for driving a cool old truck, but then.. she was never driving it. Apparently she's tough enough to go gallivanting around in the middle of the night with vampires and werewolves, even hopping a plane and bravely facing a whole damn room full of the undead all the way over in Italy, but she's too damn delicate to drive her own truck? Seriously? Jolene weeped a little when she heard.
2. Dear Dad the Cop Guy: Your daughter is lying in bed screaming like she needs an exorcism. Do you think maybe you should take her to the damn doctor? Perhaps borrow a couple of Valium from someone? Good Gawd. She clearly needs to be hospitalized. 
3. When your sorta boyfriend climbs a tree and ends up in your bedroom in the middle of the night, shirtless and cut like a GQ model, when he was a frumpy kid with really bad extensions a few days earlier, then leaps from the second story window, after reminding you that his people are descended from wolves, can you really act surprised when he morphs into a big puppy? No one is that stupid. Especially someone who's last boyfriend was a vampire.. you'd think she'd be a little more open to weird men.
4. What the feckin' hell is up with the hair and makeup in these two flicks? Edward? In the first one, there are scenes where his face is two shades lighter than his neck. And I dunno what to even say about his hair. 

Maybe it's my hillbilly genes or possibly my age, but by the end of the first movie I wanted slap whiney assed little Bella around a little. Drama queen much? If she were my kid, I'd take that truck away from her, she obviously doesn't have enough sense to even drive. Stumbling around with that sullen, "whoa is me" look on her face, hanging with the wrong crowd (they're undead, can't get much more "wrong crowd" than that) and obviously suicidal, I'd have her committed.

I guess I'm getting old. I prefer my vampire movies with teeth and blood and blatant sexual overtones, like "Interview with a Vampire" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula."

Pardon the pun but, Twilight sucked.

Heh.

Give me Buffy and Angel over Edward any day. Or Blade. Or Underworld.


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Skunks, Prophecies and Dead Cameras

I awakened this morning to the fresh scent of skunk juice, the perfect start to a Monday morning. They only seem to spray right outside my bedroom window. It smells nasty enough to make your toenails curl.

Speaking of toenails, mine is going to fall off. It's turned solid white.. like death white. I can wiggle it, which feels gross but I'm compelled to try at least once a day. I have a feeling my gimp toe is going to be a source of sick amusement for me for quite a while. 

Don't worry, I'll be sure to share any new developments. 

~ ♥ ~

I wrote awhile ago about having read the Celestine Prophecy books and the effect they had on me. Recently my thoughts have wandered back to things of a spiritual nature, sort of in the back of my mind, tapping on the door of my consciousness. Having made it through therapy has helped to clear out some of the junk spinning around in there enough for me to make sense out of some things. 

Okay, that sounded a little nutso.. even for me. 

Anywho..

Yesterday I was laying around being lazy keeping my toe elevated after spending Saturday weed whacking and hedge lopping and decided to kick back with my net book and watch a movie. When I stumbled across a movie version of The Celestine Prophecies I squeed with glee. 

No, for real. I squeed. It made me happy. 

~ ♥ ~

Remember the other day when I said Pupzilla had eaten my camera case? Well, she not only ripped through the indestructible Samsonite case, she gnawed a big chunk out of the buttons. The camera comes on, but that's about it. If you can't push the button, you can't take pictures and well.. dammit.. now I don't have a camera. The really sucky bit? Just hours before realizing my camera had been rendered useless, I had ordered a new usb cable for the damn thing, because Pupzilla ate that too. 

I love my pup but dang.

She'll be six months old this Thursday. Maybe we're almost done with the chewing stage. 

Yeah I know. Let me dream okay?

~ ♥ ~

Alright ya'll, let's take this Monday by the chin hairs and hit the ground running. Spring is in the air, the birds are squawking and there's a rustling in the brush. It's time to get moving. 

We'll talk again soon!

Later Taters!

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Valkyrie, Mistaken Identities and the Face of Evil

It looks like we're in for a beautiful day here in Frog Pond Holler. The birds are singing, the sun is shining and I just saw a pickup truck full of half nekkid hillfolk with inner tubes and a cooler heading down towards the creek.

The natives are restless.

I will not be participating in any creek splashing. I don't do creeks. Snakes swim in creeks. Ew. Now.. put me in the ocean where the critters are alot bigger and the water is way deeper and I'll swim all day without a care in the world.

I never claimed to be normal.. or rational.

Anywho...

It's been a pretty uneventful week here in Mahalaville. At the Cubicle Asylum, Bossman pitched no less than six hissified, spoiled little girl fits, Lulu talked smack about Thelma and PG only tried to get Lulu to sleep with him once. Business seems to be picking up, but what do I know? Everytime I say that, they lay someone else off or cut our hours.

I did find out we're getting a new 15K air conditioner in the coming weeks.When I told the Amazon she said, "Oh really? And who's getting fired to pay for that?"

Smart kid. I hope it's not me.

Here at the trailer, it's been pretty quiet... other than occasional outbursts of violence from the tiny kitty.

The other day, me and the Amazon watched Valkyrie, which I really liked. I'll admit I'm not crazy about Tom Cruise and while I tried to keep an open mind regarding his performance, I have to say I don't think his facial expression changed once through the entire movie. He looked like a totally emotionless robot.

Eddie Izzard's performance was excellent, as were those of the rest of the cast. I was a little distracted by all the famous faces that kept popping up, which became evident about halfway through the movie:

Me, pointing at the t.v., gesturing excitedly: "Oooo!! That's.. that's.. you know.. THAT GUY!!"

The Amazon, giving me the "I'm trying to watch a movie" stink eye: "Who? What guy?"

Me: "Oh crap! What the hell is his name? You know.. the guy who's like.. British and a comedian, but he's always in drag... you KNOW!!!"

The Amazon: "Eddie Izzard. You knew he was in this, that's why you wanted to see it. Remember? Ima need you to go get your medication checked."

Me: "NO dammit! Not him.. the other guy. He had a talk show, but as a woman, not here, over THERE somewhere."

The Amazon: "Eddie Izzard never had a talk show."

Me: "NOT EDDIE IZZARD! Dammit.. what's her name? She had a title.. barroness.. princesss.. no that's not it.. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!"

The Amazon: "Can we please just watch the movie?

Me: "Yeah, okay."

By then, I was completely lost. It took me a while to get caught back up to the plot and I was only half way paying attention anyway, too busy obsessing over the name of the actor I'd spotted seated during a crowd scene.

Me, recognizing actor Tom Wilkinson: "Hey! Isn't that the dude who was in that movie with Jessica Lange? You know.. the one where he reveals, after years of marriage, that he wants to be a woman?"

The Amazon: "I think so, yeah."

Me: "I'm sensing a pattern here."

The Amazon: "Mama... "

Me: "Yeah okay, I'm shutting up."

My mind started to wander again as I watched Tom Cruise fondle his fake eyeball for the third time. We kept hoping his wife would take a peek under that big eye patch and run away screaming.

Me: "DAME EDNA!!! THAT'S who that was!"

The Amazon, glaring at me from across the room: "Who?"

Me: "You have GOT to be kidding me. Dame Edna, she had a talk show on BBCA, but she's really a he but man, she is SO funny."

*crickets chirping*

The Amazon: "I don't know who that is, but now that you've figured it out, can we PLEASE. JUST. WATCH. THE MOVIE?"

Me, sighing: "Yeah.. okay."

It really was a good film, I'd never heard the story before and while I'm not usually a fan of historical dramas, I got caught up in the story line. I will have to watch it again, I missed some bits and pieces. I didn't, however, enjoy seeing Eddie Izzard get his ass kicked. I was ready to hop in Jolene and go pummel some Nazi bootay.

Right when it got to the exciting bit, towards the end, while everyone's in a wad trying to figure out if Hitler is really dead, I kept my eyes focused on the t.v. and said:

"Isn't that the dude from Love Actually?"

The Amazon: "I dunno. Hush."

Me: "I'm pretty sure I've seen him in a wig before."

The Amazon: "Oh my gawd would you stop already?"

Me: "I'm just sayin'"

Anywho.. ya'll have a great weekend. I ran to civilization last night, got the nails did and made all the other pit stops I needed to make. I'll probably run to the dollar store later for some bandaides, I used the last one this morning.

I was curled up on the couch under a blankie, sipping coffee and watching the morning news, when someone decided to curl up under there with me, acting all sweet and cuddly, right before she went all apeshit and clawed the bat snot out of my left butt cheek.




The Face of Evil

Oh and by the way, I looked it up and the actor who plays Dame Edna? Was totally not in Valkyrie. And he's Australian, not British. And the dude from Love Actually? He wasn't either.

But I'm not tellin' The Amazon.

Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!

Satin Jackets, Tractor Tires and Sgt. Peppers

I finished my walk this morning just as the skies opened up, dumping buckets of rain down on the holler. I love big storms. I wanted to kick off my shoes, run back out the door and frolic in the rain amongst the daffodils, but Bossman told me to get to work.

No time for dilly dallying at month end.


~*~

Those of you who were around back in September will remember my post "County Fairs, Eddie Izzard and the Beatles," when I shared my discovery of the movie, "Across the Universe." In it, I mentioned my love for the cheesy musical "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band." We had to go see it back in '78 when my best friend Mary Lamm heard Aerosmith was making an appearance. She had crushes on both Steven Tyler and Barry Manilow... simultaneously. Go figure.

Anywho...

So the Amazon added it to he Netflix list when, for the gazillionth time, I hinted that I'd like to see it again and last night we settled in for a night of BeeGees, Peter Frampton and George Burns. We discussed the differences between the two movies, pointed out the similarities and added our own punch lines here and there. I even admitted to owning a white satin jacket with an airbrushed, winged unicorn on the back at around the time the movie came out.

The Amazon found that last little tidbit ridiculously funny.


~*~

Yesterday I had planned to go home after work, change clothes and hit the yard for some spring cleaning. We have three tractor tire planters in our yard, in front of our trailer (you might be a redneck) and they've been full of weeds for the past few years. I just couldn't bring myself to embrace the trailer trashedness of it all until now... but hell.. what else am I going to do with them? The dump won't take tires, so I may as well clean them out, dump some wildflower seeds in there and maybe stick my make-shift birdbath in one. I'll draw the line at spray painting the tires to match the trailer, although it seems to be the thing to do here in the holler.

I only had time to get one tire cleaned out though, I got off to a late start. Uncle Barney and his future son-in-law (the New Yorker my trashy big boobed cousin with the lazy eye picked up on the internet) were playing NASCAR in the front yard with riding lawn mowers. I probably could have been a little less anti-social and gone out there while they mowed, but I'm pretty sure I saw a flask tucked in Uncle Barney's grass covered sports sock, which most likely contained a few ounces of his home brewed blackberry wine.

You really don't wanna get in the way of a drunken, mowing hillbilly... and I suspect a drunken mowing New Yorker can't be much safer.

Ah well.. it's Friday ya'll. I'm planning a quiet day at the Asylum, shuffling paper playing catch up. Bossman is leaving early, so I'm working over a little this afternoon, just so there's someone to answer the phone. Ya never know, that next phone call might just be the next big customer.

Hang in there, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Hump it Like Napoleon

Today is going to be a good day because yesterday? Not so much.

By the time three o'clock rolled around, I felt like I'd gone 12 rounds with a cocaine addicted kangaroo.

I've been trying to get credit approved on this one customer for almost two weeks. It's a large distributor in Canada with 15 locations. They are begging to place an order. I finally got fed up with the Big Headed German over in accounting yesterday and went over his fat bulbous head to the corporate credit manager.

Then?

I called Bossman at the trade show this morning and pitched a holy heifer fit. Now he's calling the corporate credit manager.

Heads will roll people. I just hope it doesn't end up being my own.

Seriously? I know the economy is bad. I listen to a loud chorus of "things will only get worse" all day, every day. But ya know what? Sitting around with our thumbs up our asses, using the economy as an excuse isn't going to make things any better. We're going to have to stop whining and get scrappy.

Deep breath... exhale slowly... moving on...

At the grocery store the other day, the Amazon picked up a container of humus and tossed it in the cart. This may or may not have caused me to break out into song, my rendition of "My humus.. My humus.. my lovely lady humus," complete with Napoleon Dynamite inspired dance moves.

I think the Amazon has formally disowned me.

Anywho... it's Hump Day people. I'll leave you with this so you can hump it like Napoleon:

French Tips, Dead Things and Edward, Eddy and Eddie

It was unseasonably warm here in the holler today, I even turned on the a.c. in the truck on the way to Scary Hillbilly town this afternoon. I needed a prescription from Walgreens and picked up a few other doo-dads while I was there. By the way, ya'll know I have an ongoing mission for the acquisition of fantabulous, hookerlicious, french tipped ho-nails. I've bought every type of "kit" you can think of and it always results in a mess, looking like a five year old got hold of a bottle of White Out. Today I found some of those nail polish sticker thingies for french tips and they totally work.

Okay, so one or two of them might be slightly cockeyed. I'll get better with practice.

Anywho...

It's been a sad weekend for critters of an aquatic nature. I had to flush a froggie, the baby eater, on Saturday. He looked like he got hung up in one of the plants. Poor feller. The other little froggie guy is still kickin', hiding out in the canoe. Then.. yesterday.. I went to feed Gobi, my beta and noticed that he was face down, in a vertical position on the bottom of his bowl. I left him alone for a bit, sometimes betas do weird shit and you think they're dead, although I've never seen one in that position before, but when I went back to check on him last night, he was still there. I'm pretty sure he's done for. I still haven't flushed him.

The two deaths were unrelated. The beta lives in a 2 gallon bowl and the frog is in the aquarium. It's still kinda weird though.

So yesterday morning, I was flipping through the channels, trying to find something to take my mind off of whatever the hell is supposed to happen at work tomorrow and the fact that my bedroom has suddenly turned in to killing fields but there wasn't a mother freakin' thing on the boob tube.

What's the deal with television these days? It used to be free and there was usually something to watch on one of the three or four channels you got with an antenna. Now? You have to pay (at least, out here you do, absolutely NO reception without a dish) and for your money you get 150 channels of infomercials and "reality" shows.

Sorry.. I'm feelin' a little pissy tonight. I'll continue...

So I'm flipping and I happen to spot Jennifer Tilly in 1920's garb having what appears to be a serious conversation with Edward Herrmann in a movie called "The Cat's Meow." Now... I loves me some Jennifer Tilly, in a totally non-lesbian, simple admiration kind of way. She's so beautiful and exotic.. and non-waif looking.. and kicks some serious poker playin' ass. I thought I'd seen just about everything she'd done but I hadn't seen this before.

I noticed the movie was about to go off, so I checked and found that it was coming on again in the afternoon. Yaay.

Satisfied that I had something to look forward to later, I got my big kiester up off the couch and took the Christmas tree down, reboxed the ornaments, pissed the Amazon off, did battle with Ma's closet (no lie people, I should get a medal for that alone) and finished up just in time to settle in with the movie.

So I'm sitting there with no idea what this flick is about, sipping diet orange Sunkist, watching as a fancy car pulls up to a yacht. As I watch, I match the voice-over to the face of the woman in the car and I come to the realization that it's Eddy.. from "Absolutely Fabulous" and I'm all like.. dang! I love her! Then.. a few scenes later, another car pulls up and this guy gets out and I'm all like.. dang.. he looks familiar.. who the hell is that? When a cocky grin forms across his lips and his eyes twinkle.. it hits me and I'm all like.. "well slap my ass and call me Gertrude if that ain't EDDIE IZZARD!"

Whodathunkit?

It was a great little movie, check it out if you haven't already.

Anyhooters...

I guess I should get up from here and go check on the chicken I've got shakin' and bakin', the Amazon will be home from work soon. And I really should go flush Gobi. Here's the trailer for "The Cat's Meow," although I'm probably the only one in the free world who hadn't heard of it before yesterday.

Ya'll have a great week. I'll drop a quickie on you sometime tomorrow to let you know what the big "happening" is (if anything) at the Cubicle Asylum.

Later Taters!

Having Babies, Eddie Izzard and Happy Frogs

Great day in the morning! It went from around 60° to like.. EIGHT DEGREES in a 24 hour period.

That ain't right ya'll. Somebody get me Al Gore on the horn. I'm starting to buy his wonky global weather warnings.

We've got alot to cover this morning, so ya'll get your strap on strap yourselves in, grab a cuppa something hot and get comfy.

*taps foot*

Ready? Okay good.

There was some drama in the old trailer this weekend, of the fishy variety. Remember those two mollies I bought last week? My heart grew heavy as I watched them flailing about and repeatedly swimming face first in to the glass. It didn't take a rocket scientist (or marine biologist.. whatever) to figure out that their occasional displays of swimming backwards and upside down weren't evidence of a super talented acrobatic fishy anomaly and that they would, before the weekend was over, end up with a burial in the great Porcelain Sea.

I haven't had any luck with any fish from the Pet Not-So-Smart, other than betas. Granted, it's a long drive from Big City and maybe it's just too much of a shock. I dunno. I don't have the same problems with aquatic critters I get from the shady little pet store, hidden in a back alley in Scary Hillbilly Town. Just sayin'.

Anywho, I kept checking on the mollies, hoping for a miraculous recovery. The frogs seemed fine, swimming around, setting up house in the hallowed out canoe, poking it's fluorescent pink flowers with their little pointy snouts. The five neon tetras I've had forever (bought from the Scary Hillbilly Town store) were fine, swimming around on their little neurotic patrol of the tank.

On one of my many trips to the bedroom to sit on the foot of the bed, staring at the tank, trying to will them back to normal fishy behavior, I saw something new swimming in the tank.

I yelled for the Amazon to being me a bowl, a cup..... SOMETHING because good googedy moogedy there were BABIES swimming around in there! (Okay, one baby.. BUT STILL!)

We caught the tiny fry before he became a froggy buffet and deposited him in the plastic cup. It was so little, it looked like no more than two eyes and a tail. I'm surprised that my feeble old eyeballs even noticed it. I knew it couldn't stay in the cup, the water temperature wouldn't be stable and it would croak for sure. Years ago we had a fry net, the kind you suspend in the tank, but I have no idea where in the sam hill the dang thing went to, so I improvised by using an extra scoopy net, balanced dangerously atop the tank, the net portion hanging down in the water. Of course now, the cover doesn't close all the way so theoretically one of the froggies could plan an escape, but I'm telling myself that they're just so effin' happy with their new home that they wouldn't dare leave.

As we watched the tiny fish swim around, I told the Amazon that it sure seemed bigger when it was swimming around in the tank. We soon realized why.

THERE WAS ANOTHER BABY! A bigger one. With spots, like the mollies. The Amazon, now an expert with the baby scooping, grabbed the new find, depositing it in the net with the first one. It then became very obvious that they could not both be from the same mama. The second fry was twice as big as the first one. Either the molly had one ginormous baby and one very tiny baby or one of the tetras had a secret.

Time will tell.

~*~

I finished up the Christmas shopping Saturday. When I got up, I did NOT want to go to Walmart. I'll spare you the whining and moaning over the variety of ailments that contributed to my lack of enthusiasm, just know that all I really wanted to do was go back to bed. When I got back home, I flipped the boob tube over to a show on Christmas at Disneyland, sat in the bedroom floor with my shiny, penguin wrapping paper and went to wrangling tape, bows and packaging.

I didn't realize how much I'd bought.

When she got home from work, the Amazon was 5 years old again as she carried the wrapped presents in to the living room to set under the tiny tree, shaking, poking and groping each one, trying to figure out what they were.

It made me happy.

~*~

Last night, I settled in on the couch and watched Bedknobs and Broomsticks while I waited for the chicken to finish shaking and baking. A few minutes in to the movie, I realized I had never seen it before. I mean.. I remember it coming out, I would have been around 5 or 6 but apparently I never witnessed the magic of Angela Landsbury, touring London with small children in tow, while poised on a big brass bed.

I demand an entire childhood do-over. I was deprived!

~*~

Speaking of movies, Valkyrie hits the theaters Christmas day. Normally, I wouldn't give a big possum hiney about a war/conspiracy/Hitler movie. I mean... I dunno what you've heard but I am a girl. While my movie interests, like the music I listen to, tend to vary wildly with mood, historical drama doesn't really do anything for me.

And then there's Tom Cruise. Nuff said.

What you may not know about Valkyrie is that the cast includes the fabulous Mr. Izzard, playing the very unfabulous General Erich Fellgiebel.

I doubt I'll be rushing out to see it, because it's still a war movie.. about Hitler.. with Tom Cruise... and the last movie I went to see was Shrek 2. Before that? A hunky guy I met on the internet took me to see Gladiator. So yeah, I pretty much only go to the movies once every five or six years.

But I'm sorta tempted.

Anywho... there's not much to do at the Asylum this week. Bubbles is on vacation today and tomorrow and I'm taking off Friday for FIVE fun-filled days of family togetherness. I'll keep ya'll informed of any casualties.

If you need me, I'll be hanging out on Plurk and Facebook. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Irish Tales, Pimping Stickers and House Guests

The sun's shining down on Frog Pond Holler this morning, the air is light with just a touch of fall and I'm trying to recover from the weekend.

I had grand plans for Saturday, none of which played out. There were alot of naps.. not what I intended but I guess it's what my body needed. Yesterday, for all the hours I sat in front of the computer, you would have thought I'd have posted something, but I was up to my armpits in peace loving bumper stickers, re-designing "got grits?" and farkin' around with online advertisements. By eight o'clock last night, my eyeballs were staring at each other and watering like my face had sprung a leak.

We gotta keep swimmin'.... no one's gonna come bail us out.

After I made dinner and distributed some D-Con around the kitchen (we've found evidence of uninvited visitors) I settled in on the couch, just in time to catch one of my all time favorite movies... ever. "In to the West" is full of Irish Travellers, caravans, ocean waves and "harses," a few of my favorite things.




I've seen it a bunch of times and I still bawl like a big, dumb baby every time.

Anywho.. I'd better get my ass in gear, I've got a date with a vacuum cleaner. Ya'll have a great Monday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

County Fairs, Eddie Izzard and The Beatles

I've been watching the pretty swirly storm, spinning over North Carolina like a load of granny panties on the rinse cycle. I hope it comes a creek swelling gullywasher before the day is over.

The Hee-Haw county weekly had more news on next month's county fair. Ya'll may remember that it's going to be the first one in over 40 years and people are getting excited. One of the county commissioners was quoted as saying, "We hope to have a big turnout. We could have as many as one thousand visitors at the fair over the weekend."

A thousand? Really? That's the best you can shoot for?

Tickets are $2 per adult, with a max of $6 per car load and free passes will be distributed for the youngins at the elementary schools. Most of the activities are scheduled for that Saturday, including a BBQ competition, molasses cooking (brewing, stewing, making.. whatever the hell you do to molasses) demonstration, farm animal judging and a collection of rides. They're not being very specific about the rides but they did say that it would probably include a Ferris wheel.

Normally, I'd avoid social gatherings on that end of the county like the plague, out of fear that I'll run in to my dad's family, resulting in a Springeresque spectacle, but dammit... I can't keep doing this to myself. I'm turning in to someone I don't recognize. So I'm going. With attitude.

News at eleven.

~*~

The Pump N' Go is now, once again, open for business. They don't have any gas, but they're expecting a delivery today. Luckily for me, Thelma's dad runs the place so he's going to call us when fuel is delivered. Bossman is going to let me leave long enough to run down there and get enough to last through the weekend. This also means that the Amazon gets to work this weekend, only for one day but it's better than nothing at all.

We can't seem to get a straight answer from the "powers that be" about the cause of this sudden gas shortage. It seems to be centered in Asheville, radiating out to the other areas. There is no shortage in S.C., TN or the eastern part of N.C.

Just here.

~*~

I think I addled Kenju a little with my statement yesterday that I never really "got" The Beatles. They're okay.. they were just a little before my time. I have to admit, as I've gotten older matured, I've found myself giving them more of a listen.

When I was a teenybopper, I saw the movie "Sgt. Pepper's" but I was barely aware that it had anything to do with The Beatles, I just wanted to see Peter Frampton and The BeeGees. I loved that movie, bought the album and nearly wore it out, playing it over and over again. If I'm remembering right (which is never guaranteed,) seeing that movie is what started my friend Mary Lamm's fascination with Aerosmith's Steven Tyler. She was never the same after witnessing his crotch grabbing dance moves.

Recently, I saw another movie, a musical based on the work of The Beatles, "Across the Universe." Again, the only reason I watched it was to catch an appearance by Eddie Izzard, performing "Mr. Kite," but I was pleasantly surprised and ended up watching the entire movie three times over the course of a weekend.



Ahh well.. Thelma's dad just called, they delivered the gas and people are already lined up through the middle of town. I guess I'll just wait it out. Ya'll have a good weekend, I'm going to see if I can find some work to do. Oh yeah.. and don't forget to check out how some other folks answered yesterday's meme: tndaisy1960 & inanna.

Have a great Friday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Nicolas Cage and His Dayglow Teeth

Hey ya'll!

The sun is shining so bright in the holler today that it's downright weird lookin'! It seems the sun's been hiding behind gray poofy clouds for forever and a day. It's got me thinking that maybe I should use a few of those vacation days soon to do a little spring cleaning around the trailer. I've got about ten years build up of nicotine I need to coax off the walls, out of the carpet and furniture, and the bathroom.. well.. that just needs to be sandblasted or sumchit.

But spring cleaning isn't what I'm here to talk to ya'll about today.

Yesterday, the Amazon and I sat down to watch "Next" with Nicolas Cage. Now, before I go on, just let me add here that I've always found Cage to be seriously sexy. He wasn't "Hollywood Perfect," he was an approachable "I might stand a chance with that" sort of sexy.

I mean for real ya'll. The boy likes Elvis. He can't be all bad.

Having made that crystal clear, I'll get to the whole point of this post. (There is a point.. hang in there.. )

What is the effin' deal with Nicolas Cage's TEETH?

They're like glowing, radioactive Chicklets. You could land an airplane with those puppies. Hell, strap a few to the top of a lighthouse and warn ships at sea. It's not just Cage, super illuminated choppers have become common in Wacky Wood, along with Botoxed foreheads and lips that have been inflated to pressures exceeding those required by my truck tires.

Is anyone else distracted by this? Am I the only one?

It breaks my heart. Passed are the days of older, distinguished actors. Now they're all fake n' baked tans, alien teeth and plasti-faces.

Except maybe George Clooney. He's still lookin' hot (and human.)

As I watched the movie, I realized that all this cosmetic manipulation was so that Nick baby, who is a year older than me, could be paired up with Jessica Biel, who is only three years older than the Amazon.

Oh. My. God. Gross.

I liked the movie and I adore Nicolas Cage.

The real one.

Stacking Rocks, Brendan Fraser and Learning to Listen Again

There's a mild chill in the air across the holler this morning. The creek is raging wildly through town, the result of the huge storms we had last night. It's the sort of morning that gets your blood pumping, simply by walking out in to the day.

I was going to tell ya'll about my Scary Hillbilly Town adventure Friday night, but I need to hold off until some ongoing drama plays itself out. I hate to tell a story without an ending. Instead, I'm going to share something a little different, at least to those of you who've recently joined the ranks of Hidden Mahala readers.

Saturday afternoon I kneeled on the floor in front of my hope(less) chest and removed the lid to my little desert-garden-terrarium-thingie. As I watered the plants, taking care not to get the cacti wet, drizzling the liquid from my china tea cup, I watched how the water hitting the rocks made them twinkle in the sunlight. In my mind's eye, an image from a television show flashed across the screen in my head. I saw a man on the beach in San Francisco, stacking rocks, creating temporary statues at the edge of the surf. In the next instant, I saw the little house here in town where the Indian guy lives, whose yard is lined with little stone stacks which seem to defy gravity.

Feeling inspired, I began to build tiny statues from the pebbles lying around in my cactus garden. I wasn't able to go very high and most of them slid off three or four times before I got it right, but it was kinda neat.. and weird. I wondered how I'd explain myself if the Amazon walked in seeing her mother 42 years old, sitting in the floor playing with rocks and dirt.

Yesterday, I was taking advantage of the Amazon being at work, sitting on the couch with my feet propped up, hogging the t.v. remote all to myself. The brain candy I'd settled on had gone off and was followed by a new Snoop Dog video, which was all retro and freaky, cracking me up. I started flipping through the movie channels.. then I stopped.

The scene was Brendan Fraser, methodically stacking rocks.

I've seen the movie before,"Still Breathing," it's what the Amazon refers to as "one of those fate movies" that I love. Sort of along the same lines as "Serendipity" or even "Dragonfly," that everything happens for a reason. I settled in and watched the whole thing again. No way am I going to ignore such an obvious sign from the Universe to pay attention.

There are a bunch of parallels in this movie to some stuff going on in my life right now, stuff I can't really go in to. I'll just say this: It's exactly what I needed to see, right when I needed to see it.

That's how the Universe works, we just have to learn to pay attention.

Ya'll have a butt kickin' Monday.

Michael Caine, Silent Bubbles and Getting Back to Normal

Hey ya'll!

I'm in much better spirits today so I'll keep the whining to a minimum. I know ya'll are happy to hear that.

Yesterday afternoon, Tiny helped me rearrange my office so that my desk isn't directly beneath the moldy allergen spewing vent, then I came in this morning and went crazy with the Lysol disinfecting wipes. It looks and smells so much nicer in here now. I'm also a couple of feet further from Bubbles and her yeehaw-shit-kickin-cryin-in-my-beer country music. I still want walls, but for now this will help.

I had intended to finish an article for Helium last night, but instead I sat for over an hour hunched over a pile of coupons and this week's sale paper from the grocery store. After cross-referencing the coupons to the ad, making a list and completing intricate mathematical computations that would make my six grade pre-algebra teacher proud, I think I'll end up with about $8 worth of free stuff. The Amazon is taking Jolene (that's my truck, I've not taken a lesbian lover) to the neighboring town to run some errands, so she volunteered to do the food gathering.

*sniffle*

My little girl is growing up.

It'll be her first solo flight with the coupons, but I think I've trained her well.

I watched a movie over the weekend that I've been hoping to see. "Children of Men," with the sort of futuristic theme that I love, turned out to be extremely violent and strange. As a rule, I can live without all the blood splatter and I ended up wishing there had been a bit less of it in this film. Michael Caine has a role as an aging, pot smoking, hippy. His performance alone made the whole thing worth it.

It's almost lunchtime, Bubbles hasn't spoken to me all morning, every time I look back in Bossman's office he's got his little bald head in his hands, making groaning sounds and Lulu is out taking her morning commune with nature.

Everything's normal here in the Cubicle Asylum.

Ya'll have a good one. Later Taters!

Sleepy Heads, Crisco and Larry the Cable Guy

Is it a pretty good sign that you're tired when you fill the cat food dish with bird seed, then tell the cat he's crotchety for not eating it?

How about when you hear your (adult) child calling from the other room, so instead of walking through the house to see what's up, you call her on the cellphone?

What is it about Monday's that are so much more tiring than the rest of the week?

I think there's going to be another melt down at the office soon. I can feel the tension mounting between Lulu and Thelma and Louise. I try to keep the peace, but it's getting to the point where my trying to smooth things over just seems to tick people off. It's time to back into my little corner and just wait for the bomb to drop. Maybe I should wear a helmet to work tomorrow.

I didn't get a chance to call the Bubba mechanic today and I heard there was a VFD meeting in his district tonight so it would have been pointless anyway. Heck, I should have just drove the hippy van to the meeting, surely amongst that gathering of able bodied men, I could have found someone to work on it.

It came a downpour earlier here in Frog Pond Holler. This meant that me and the Amazon were out there wrestling a garbage bag on to the hippy van window in the rain. It truly is a godsend that we don't have very many close neighbors. It was the kind of thing that Larry the Cable Guy would give big bucks to watch on pay per view.

I finally got to watch The Da Vinci Code all the way through yesterday afternoon. Views and personal beliefs aside, it was a pretty good flick. Me and Louise were talking about it at work this afternoon. Sometimes, it's like translating a foreign language talking to her.

Louise: "That owl-biner had him some issues, wut with his Crisco obsession and all."

Me: "I'm sorry, the what?"

Louise: "You know.. that owl-biner, oh you may not know this, but them thats lily white assed like that'un was, is called "owl-biner," that last part being spoken very slowly, to make sure that I, being the less worldly one, would understand.

Me: "Ooooh yeah, I've heard of them owl-biners before. Now, what was that about Crisco?"

Louise: "Shoot, I never did figger that part out, when he kept a prayin' for some Crisco. I kept wonderin' wuz he wantin' to make some biscuits er wut? He just kept a' sayin' it over and over "oooohhh Crisco" then he'd be jabberin in that EYE-talian. I just didn't get it. It didn't make no sense, none a'tall."

Me: "Louise, he was saying "Christo".. that's EYE-talian for "Christ."

Louise looked at me with her head cocked sideways, kinda like a blue-tick hound when he hears something in the bushes. "Mahala, I know the difference between our Lord and Savior and cookin' grease."

Me: "I wouldn't lie about something like that. Trust me, it was Christo."

Louise soon admitted, although you could tell it pained her to do so, that my explanation made more sense than hers. But I did catch her wondering around muttering about owl-biners and biscuits more than once today.

Gotta love her.

Theological Ramblings

The weekend rain showers have taken the edge off the heat here in town. It's still a bit cloudy, seventy degrees, perfect weather.

Everyone else in the house is still asleep, except for Merlin and I don't think it would take much to convince him to take a nap along with the rest of the critters. I'm enjoying the peace and quiet. I got a lot done yesterday, but I'm not finished. Housework is never "finished."

I was up before eight this morning, which is totally unheard of for me on a weekend, so I started the coffee and sat down to see what was on television. The DaVinci Code had just come on, so I settled in to watch it. I've actually tried to avoid the whole story because it's fictional. I've read "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" and a few other investigative works regarding the Holy bloodline theory and I didn't want to get the fictional story confused with the other things I'd read. I get confused enough as it is. About twenty minutes into the movie I fell back asleep and ended up missing about two thirds of it, but it comes on again this afternoon.

It was during the time that I was digging around in the family tree that one of the guys at work cornered me in the break room and asked if I'd heard of the book "Holy Blood, Holy Grail." This guy seems like the typical Bubbahubby at first glance, most people who work with him everyday don't realize he was born and lived the first few years of his life in a small town in Germany, to an American mother and a German father. He's friendly and fits in with everyone, but there's a gentleness, a quietness about him. I used to wear a pentacle on a necklace and he stopped me one day and asked if I was Wiccan. I was shocked that he knew what Wiccan even was, but I told him that no, I wasn't. We started talking and I found out that he's got a very inquisitive mind when it comes to different religions and faiths, legends and myths. I don't think he talks to anyone else about it and he only corners me when no one else is around and asks if I've heard this or that and what I think about it.

I'd never heard of the Holy bloodline theory before that day a few years ago when he stopped me and asked if I'd read the book. When I told him that no I hadn't he just told me that I needed to read it. He brought it the next day. I actually read it twice I think, I was hooked. I was reading a book that examined a theory that I'd had in the back of my mind since I was a small child. I can remember being in Sunday school when I was very small and wondering, questioning what I was being told. When I asked questions I was told it was a sin to do so and I think on some level I knew deep down, even at that young age, that if that was true, I was destined to burn in eternal hell fire.

Before ya'll start forming a posse to come hunt me down and.. depending upon your faith.. save my soul, burn me at the stake or stone me to death, I've read the Bible all the way through. It took me a year to do it because I stopped and researched any words I didn't understand, found the places on the map etc. I was hesitant to read it at first after years of being told my beliefs were wrong and what a horrible sinner I was. Imagine my surprise when I read the good book and instead of finding guilt for what I believe, I found justification for the things I've known in my heart all along. I won't get in to that here, lest I begin to sound all preachy, just know that instead of putting me in my place, reading the Bible gave me great peace in knowing I wasn't a bad person.

Wow, I just went totally in a different direction than I intended. What I was saying, I was digging in the family tree when all of these theories came to light and I traced one of my lines, my alcoholic, verbally abusive grandfather's line, back to the Merovingians. It was just odd to me that both of these things seemed to come to light in my life at the same time. Now, I don't have birth certificates or death records for all of them and I can't "prove" anything, I guess I'm not that into it, but it's interesting to consider. Dang, do ya'll know how many times I've struck royalty in different branches of the family tree? And here I sit in my trailer up in the mountains, scraping to get by.

Life is weird.

I guess when you consider that the royals liked to get their freak on just like anyone else, everyone would run into a royal family in their ancestry if they kept digging long enough.

Anyways... I'm off to tackle some more laundry. This has been a totally rambling pointless post.

Power Issues, Johnny Depp and Sparkle Sparrow

The sky is full of dark gray clouds, gently rolling over Frog Pond Holler. The wind is picking up, I think it's going to happen. I think it may actually rain.

The new computer will be at the Cubicle Asylum some time next week. In the meantime I'm getting plenty of exercise waddling at warp speed up and down the hall. I got a call from our sorta-geek this morning. He said that everything inside my old computer was fried and that a couple of post.. thingies.. were melted off the.. something or another. He thinks it was a hellacious power surge that blew the life out of computer. I guess it makes sense, the way our lights flicker and our desk fans will speed up and slow down for no apparent reason. We've been laying bets on when we'd come in to work and find the whole place burned to the ground for at least the last ten years.

The Amazon is out running the streets with one of her buddies. I think she's gone to drool over Johnny Depp in his latest pirate flick. He's easy to drool over. I noticed last week that Craig Ferguson makes a right sexy pirate too, he was in swash buckling garb in a skit on his show one night. Maybe he should be in the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie. If Keith Richards can play Jack Sparrow's father, then surely Craig could have a role. He could be his cousin, Spencer.. or Lloyd.

*Snort*

Lloyd Sparrow.

No! Wait!!! He could be the cross dressing cousin of Jack Sparrow and although his name is Lloyd, he would go by a stage name... Sparkle Sparrow!!! YES!!!! There would be musical numbers with a chorus line and FANTABULOUS PIRATE BOOTS!!!!!! Sparkle's big number would take place on the deck of the ship, where he'd stare longingly up at the full moon, singing his little heart out about the pain of growing up and being denied frilly underthings!!! There won't be a dry eye in the theater!!!! He can wear a little teal number, tied at the waist with those big, lacy poet sleeves and of course, big gold hoop earrings.....

*cough*

Maybe I should go lay down. I'm thinkin' maybe the work stress is getting to me.. just a tad..

It's almost Friday :)

Home Perms, Craig Ferguson and Wax Jobs

~*~

NEWS FLASH

CRAIG FERGUSON IS TICKLISH!!!!!!

~*~

Maybe it's only when he's being threatened with tickling from David Duchovny, one can't really be sure.

Me and Lulu were just discussing yesterday our mutual need for a visit to the salon for a perm and how we'd give ourselves a home perm if we could just find someone to roll it up for us. Imagine my delight when this morning I witnessed Barney Slash rolling the ebony locks of John Tesh on The Late Late Show. Do ya'll think I could get him to fly out here and do our hair? It would be just like the beauty shop in "Steel Magnolias," all of us sitting around the kitchen table in my little trailer while the Slashman himself got us all rolled up, sharing gossip and drinking coffee.

Do ya'll suppose he'd be interested in giving wax jobs too?

*snort*

When Hormones Attack

Good morning my little tater tots!! Isn't it a gloooooooooorious Monday morning???? The sun is shining, the birds are singing....

Ahhh fuck screw it.. you're not really falling for it are you?

I'm suffering from weekend inadequacy guilt today. That's when you wait all week to get a bunch of stuff done on the weekend, then Monday rolls back around and you realize all you really accomplished were numerous naps, one load of laundry and a couple of showers.

I've got trash that should have been carried out, dishes that should have been washed and dear Lord the dust bunnies have multiplied and have started a colony under the end table. They're planning an uprising.. I know they are.. I hear them whispering late at night. I think they're the ones who toss the renegade cheese wrappers back into the kitchen floor to stick to my bare feet.

I watched a really good movie yesterday called "Come see the Paradise." It was pretty long, but good and I bawled through the whole thing, which is probably more due to my raging hormones than the emotional tug of the movie itself. It takes place during WWII, a nice Irish man falls in love with a Japanese/American girl, she and her family end up getting shipped to the camps, it's all quite tragic.

It snowed for most of the weekend here in Frog Pond Holler. Just enough to make it pretty. I should have taken pictures, but I was too busy lying on the couch whining about my hormonal state and resulting swollen joints and aching muscles. Oh yeah, it was a whine fest in the Mahala house this weekend.

I would have given my left big toe for a cigarette.

Now if I can just get through the day without killing Bubbles. Early morning cheerfulness must not be encouraged nor tolerated. Especially when it's fake.

Damn I'm bitchy.

Later taters!

A Nap Fixes Everything

Supper's on the stove, the rain which had subsided earlier is back, tapping softly on the roof. I had a nap, got some chores done and re-examined my earlier bleak outlook.

There's an empty storefront in town. The rent is high, but it's been empty for a long time, it may be possible to talk it down a bit. I've thought about it before, but I needed my job for the insurance, not just for myself but for the Amazon. When she graduates this spring, she'll no longer be eligible for my insurance anyway.

I'm thinking.....

****************

There are very few movies that I sit down and watch every single time they come on. "The Butcher's Wife" is one of those movies. I'm not crazy about anyone in the cast on an individual basis, but they all work perfectly for their roles in this case. I love movies which play on the "everything happens for a reason" theme with a taste of the mystic. When I saw it on yesterday, the housework came to a screeching halt as I sat down and watched it for at least the fifth time.

*****************

Bossman is going to be gone all this week. At least Bubbles won't have anyone to be running to behind my back, no one that matters anyway. That really yanked my chain the other day. She never came to me and asked to be given more customers, other than that one. I'm over it now though, I think.

I've been rearranging some stuff around my little corner of cubicle hell. Did ya'll know there are websites devoted to cubicle decoration? Who knew? There are even sites for office toys. Desktop rocket launchers, semi-automatic rubberband guns, little plastic men with bullseyes that you can slam their little plastic heads into, even office voodoo dolls. Yeah, that last one would get me run right out of Frog Pond Holler.

Anywho, I'm off finish the laundry. Ya'll have a good week.

Dollar Store Adventures, Simple Wendell and Defending Craig Ferguson

I've got about ten different topics floating around in my head, so get comfy. I have a feeling it's going to be a long one.

I headed down to the dollar store Sunday evening for coffee filters and a few other things. I'd known their air conditioner was broken, at one point the employees were begging the customers to call the complaint line so they'd have it fixed, but apparently that didn't work. By aisle three I was sweating like a ho in church after a Sunday morning tryst with Deacon Jones.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

After I picked up assorted paper products, I stopped at the DVD display and glanced at the newest selections. I flipped through them quickly, it was entirely too hot in there to dilly dally. That's when I noticed a smiling face that looked familiar. I had to stick my arm way back in there, turn the DVD case sideways and grunt a little to get it out... but there it was. "The Big Tease" starring none other than... Craig Ferguson.

I shit you not. Right there on the "2 fer $8" shelf. I was as tickled as a pig in slop.

****************************
I spent the better part of yesterday with a screamer of a headache. It was one of those headaches that makes you want to barf everytime you move your head. Here's the weird thing, when I came home for lunch, it almost went away. Within minutes after returning to work it was back full force. Within an hour after getting home at the end of the day, it was gone again. There is something about that office that's making me sick, mainly on Mondays. We've always known that the air in that place is nasty. A black film forms on all the office equipment, especially over the weekend when the ventilation is turned off. Our vents don't pull in air from the outside, it sucks it in from the plant, where they're welding, running a powder coating paint booth and God only knows what else. There's always a chemical funk in the office, but worse on Mondays, I suppose because the office is totally closed off for two days, with no air circulating at all.

We manufacture ventilation equipment. You'd THINK someone would figure it out.

**************************

I hate to say this.. I do.. but.. Bubbles is starting to get on my nerves. I know, I know, I bitch about every coworker I get and by God I hand picked this one myself. There's a new guy out in the plant. Let's call him Wendell. He seems a little creepy at first, but it's because he's not quite all there. Just a harmless, sweet, slightly simple minded guy who works circles around most of the other people in his department. On two different occasions he's made the mistake of speaking to Bubbles. Nothing "out of the way" was said. He simply inquired as to her position in the office and asked where one of the managers was.

Bubbles was just appalled that he dared speak to her. He must be dying to get his hands on her, as, to hear her tell it, is every man that crosses her path. The other day he came in the office to ask Lulu where he could get some change for the snack machines. After he left, Bubbles went up and down the hall telling everyone he'd really come in there looking for her. She would even flee from him, making a total ass of herself if he even looked in her direction when she walked through the plant.

It broke my heart when I found out that poor Wendell had been taken into the office and been sternly instructed to stay away from Bubbles, that he was doing things that made her uncomfortable and that we had strict policies against sexual harassment.

Bubbles is okay looking, but honestly, she ain't all that. This is the second "harassment" complaint she's made in the few short months she's been there. Girlfriend needs to chill her little ass out. Mahala is getting annoyed.

*****************************

Ma kept the van today so she could go to the clinic for a checkup and to sort this prescription mess out. Tonight she told me she'd lost 37 pounds since her last appointment. When the doctor asked her how she'd done it, do you think she said, "My daughter has been taking good care of me and fixing healthy meals?"

No.

"My daughter has been encouraging me to at least try to do more things for myself and she's been buying less junk food?"

No.

She said, "My daughter has refused to buy groceries every week and when she does, she puts all the good stuff up where she knows I can't reach it."

I expect DSS to come knocking on my door any second.

The woman lays in there in front of the boob tube and drinks Coca~Cola all day and she loses 37 pounds. I run around like a headless chicken at work, then come home, lay in the floor doing sit-ups and performing other acts of self-torture and yet I still look like a large farm animal.

Life ain't fair.


************************

I didn't get a chance to watch Craig Ferguson's monologue this morning, not exactly. Since Ma was using the van today, she had to get up early and take me to work. Therefore, she was following me around nattering at me all morning all before I'd had coffee. That I managed to show up at work fully clothed and with all the appropriate undergarments is a miracle in itself. After a full day, I got off and we stopped at the market, then the dollar store (yes again, hush) then sat in the parking lot or rather, in the van on the sidewalk where Ma insisted on parking, talking to her sister and a few other assorted family members, I finally got to come home and lose myself in all of Ferguson's butt wiggling glory.

He mentioned that before one of his shows over the weekend, he was outside enjoying a cup of coffee and over heard a young lady telling one of her friends that she'd attended his show the previous night and that she'd said, "He sucks live."

BLASPHEMER!!!

He also mentioned that he was tempted to comment on her erm... robust rump.. in response to her comments, but decided instead to take the high road and not say anything. Well, let me just say right now, that I've seen him perform live and that little chubster didn't have a clue what the hell she was talking about. She obviously lacks taste and a sense of humor.

Don't make me load up the hippy van with all my hillbilly kinfolk, tanked up on corn liquor, a few coon hounds and a finely sharpened pitch fork and head out to California. We'll hit every Dunkin' Donuts and Lane Bryant 'til we find that little heifer. Maybe I sound a little harsh, but I can't just sit back and let her give the rest of us who are more fertility goddess than Paris Hilton a bad name!

Hell, I'll even take my trashy, big boobed, lazy eyed cousin with us. She ain't nothin' to sneeze at. She once killed a five and half foot yellow rattler by throwing rocks at it. You can imagine how close you have to get to a snake to kill it that way, that girl ain't afraid of nothin'.

Okay, okay, I wouldn't really go hunting down some poor, tasteless, misguided ding-a-ling, don't ya'll go notifying the authorities. There's no way I could travel across the country with my trashy cousin. I'd have to put her out at the side of the road before we reached Texas, or after the 20th time she exclaimed "Cool Beans!!!"

Oh and by the way... in reference to the "Penn State" joke (which I can't repeat here, due to the delicate dispositions of some of my readers), that's why one should always have a cold beverage near by. It helps things.. go down.

***********************

And on that note, I think I'm going move a load of laundry to the dryer then sit back on the couch with a hot cup of Gypsy tea and watch the "Dog the Bounty Hunter" special on A&E.

Later Taters.

Cool Breezes and Critters

What a difference a day makes.

There's a hint of fall in the air, the cool breeze makes me happy. The hot weather will no doubt return for brief visits, but it's official. Fall is on it's way.

I got a crap load of work done today, my in-box is almost empty. I don't mind being busy when the day ends with a sense of accomplishment. It's the days when you work yourself into a frenzy yet never get anything done, spinning your wheels in an endless mud pit for eight hours, that you wear yourself out. I had to gently inform Bubbles, in a round about way, that I'm all about fun and games, but when I've got a lot to do, I need some serenity. She seemed a little hurt at first, but by the end of the day she'd bounced back.

After work, I came home and loaded the dishwasher (where do they keep coming from???) then started dinner. Baked chicken breasts, saffron rice, green beans and biscuits. I curled up on the couch and watched "The Truth About Cats and Dogs" surrounded by... well.. cats and dogs. I hadn't seen it in forever, I'd forgotten most of it. The story is about a tall, lanky blonde, a sort of dumpy little brunette and the man who falls in love with them.... sort of. I won't explain it, I'm sure most of you have seen the movie, it's been around for a while. I needed that reminder that even those of us who are "cosmetically challenged," dumpy and plain, do have value and that maybe in the world that exists away from the movie screen, intelligent people of the opposite sex might some day see that value in us. I know that happy endings are what fairy tales are made of, but there's no harm in a little dreaming now and then.

The other day at the grocery store, before my little mini trauma while loading the groceries, I spotted some critters in the back of the truck in the next parking space. I'd forgotten that I'd taken it:



There's a black one in there too, but he didn't show up in the picture as well. You never know what you're going to see in the back of pick-up trucks around here.

I took this other picture while the Amazon was home. In case any of you were wondering just what the heck a Boston Baked Beagle (half Beagle, half Boston Terrier) looks like, here ya go:



Do not be fooled by the innocent face. This is the goober brain who has decided that he'd rather risk a bladder explosion.. or worse.. than go outside.

I'm so thankful for the weekend. Hope yours rocks.

Later Taters.