5 Reasons to Refill Your Anxiety Medication

Current Mood.
What the hell is this? I don't know. I took it in an antique shop.

Hey ya'll. I was just sitting here thinking about the state of the world, making my head spin. Watching the news blurbs is like the opening scene from an apocalyptic horror film.

Is it real? Have I finally gone over the edge? Is this the world we're living in?

If you're feeling the stress of world, or hell, right here in the good old USA events, check out my list of reasons you'd better keep your meds at arms reach.

1. The Presidential Election

Seriously? There's a possibility that Donald Trump could be the next Commander in Chief? If that's not enough to cause chest pain and hyperventilation, I don't know what is. And Hillary? Sorry but, I wouldn't trust her with a bucket of water if my britches were on fire.

Here's the thing. There's a part of my brain that thinks this shit is SO ridiculous that there has to be some other explanation other than these two jokers are the best we can do.

Put on your Reynolds Wrap hunting cap and bear with me.

I know this is out there, but I wouldn't be surprised to find that the Clintons had offered Trump some ungodly amount of money to run against Hillary, not realizing the American people were fed up to their chin hairs with the political establishment and that they'd actually vote for him. Trump, on the other hand, probably just saw a way to get on t.v. and act a fool, which he does so well, and make some easy money.

Just look at his face now. He is PETRIFIED that he may really have to be president.

Yes, I'll vote. But I'm writing in Bernie, which to some means not voting at all, but ya know, you gotta follow your gut.

2. Police Shooting People For No Effin' Reason

Another day in the USA, another black man gunned down by the police.

First, let me say that the town I live in has one full time cop and one part time. We don't have a huge crime problem here in The Holler. It's mostly just meth heads hanging out in front of the post office and the town hooker sitting up at the civil war monument so she can catch the traffic coming from Tennessee.

Growing up, however, I lived in a very culturally diverse city and I'm not unfamiliar with racial tensions and how they dangerous they can be.

If I were a police officer who had been trained to fire my weapon at a training facility that illustrated the targets using the faces of young black men and I knew that in light of current firearm controls, potentially anyone I came in to contact with could be armed, I might be more inclined to discharge my weapon before I was sure there was a threat.

Just sayin'.

I don't believe all cops are racist, no more than all Hillfolk are ignorant and inbred (all though I might be.. a little bit.) I DO believe that there is an atmosphere of kill or be killed, rather than to protect and serve, cultivated within an increasing number of departments. We must look to the governing bodies of our police forces for answers, the persons responsible for the hiring and training of the flawed law enforcement officers that continue to cast a shadow of fear, distrust and death on all Americans.

Damn ya'll. That was deep as shit.

3. Brexit

Hey U.K. What the hell are ya'll smoking over there? It's not the fact that some of ya'll voted to leave the  EU, I get that. It's that after the votes were in, half ya'll were walking around all shocked and awed because you didn't realize that voting to leave the EU would mean YOU'D ACTUALLY LEAVE THE EU.

Now there are petitions to put a stop to exit, stage right.

YOU DON'T GET A DO OVER. THAT'S NOT HOW VOTING WORKS.

If it did, we'd never settle on a government official. Ever.

Since the vote, I've seen an ever growing number of stories of racism and violence over yonder. It breaks my heart. So much hate in the world.. and it's spreading from pole to pole and round and round.

Look. Everybody just wants a better life for themselves and their family. They don't want your job. They're not coming to steal your daughters. All most people want is just peace. To live their life. To be happy. Why is that so hard?

4. Babies Getting Shot 

Ya'll know I have personal reasons for being on my soapbox about this. Rarely does a day go by that I don't hear of it happening again and every damned time, I relive that night. For the love of all that's Holy, if you must have a gun in your home, please keep it secure. I don't care if you don't have kids, someone who visits may. I don't care if your kids understand gun safety, their friends might not.

There are so many dangers out there for our babies. Traffic accidents, animal attacks, deadly allergies, drownings, but a toddler's death by gunshot? Totally and completely avoidable. I didn't study the statistics, this ain't the Washington Post, but I'd bet money that more children are shot by handguns than people breaking in to your house.

We have a gun. It was Ma's, she always had guns. It's unloaded, in a box, taped up, with the ammo in a drawer. I don't even know what it looks like. T.A. took it from Ma one night when she had it out to show the police during one of her crazy spells. If someone tries to come in on me, I have no intention of looking for that gun. I have a baseball bat, a butcher knife and an 80lb hellhound lookin' dog that likes to eat hikers.

I'll take my chances.

5. Morons Treating Women and Girls Like Property

This is another one that sets my anxiety off every time, probably because of my effed up childhood at the hands (literally) of dear old dad.

It's African girls who endure genital mutilation as a "rite of passage," at the hands of their elders. Women in India who are stoned to death or disfigured with acid for dishonoring their family by being raped. It's religious fanatics, holed up in compounds in the Untied States, promising their 12 year old daughters to their 50 year old cousins in marriage, to act as broodmares.

It's when girls are abused, and they tell, and they're blamed for the abuse.

It's all of those things.

Have we really evolved at all? Once blinds are closed and no one's looking, do we devolve back to the predator mentality?

Everything is broken. Hand me my pills, because I don't know how to fix it all.

Later Taters.

P.S. I realize some of you may have views that differ from mine. That's cool,  I still love all ya'll. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Just please keep it respectful. 

End of Times

Have you noticed that society seems obsessed with the end of civilization?

Historically, there have always been people claiming the end was near, that we needed to get our sins in check and prepare for the end of the world, but this is something different.

I find myself obsessed with every t.v. show involving a catastrophic blow to society, whether it be a global zombie infestation, bird flu epidemic or natural disaster. The common thread with all theses scenarios, is a breakdown of societal structures, leaving behind a livable earth and enough survivors to start over.

But why? I started to wonder if I had some weird mental disorder, a morbid obsession with mass destruction. Then I realized, it's not just me. The end of the world is big business right now. You can find countless books written by survivalists, freeze dried foods by the 5 gallon bucket, even information on home defense for those who want to start construction on their fortified compound.

I think I know why.

You need only look around you. On the news, politicians are performing like circus clowns, twirling about to the calliope, willing to say or do anything, as long as they can keep the spotlight on them.

On social media, people are arguing over which bathroom other people should use, conjuring up images of masked pedophiles lurking in the next stall, waiting to peek at Little Precious. They're threatening boycotts, organizing campaigns and creating an atmosphere of hatred, all because some of those circus clowns triggered their mama bear instincts with imagined threats to their cubs.

Families are struggling to survive, no matter how hard they work, basic needs aren't met.

Nothing makes sense.

In this age of technology, what is the one thing you do when your device goes kittywampus?

You hit the reset button. Turn it off, turn it back on.

The world needs a reset button. Tear it down and start over. That's why we love shows like The Walking Dead .

When there is no money, the rich have no power. When you're taking a dump out in the woods, using poison oak for toilet paper, it no longer matters what sex you are. If there's no electricity, there aren't circus clowns screaming at us, "Listen to me or your child will die!!!!"

Don't get me wrong. I'd never make it without civilization. Just come by my house when the internet's been down for an hour. It's not a pretty sight. As for killing zombies, I gross out if I have to touch dirty dish water. I'm pretty sure the level of anxiety I'd have after scraping twice-dead zombie guts off the floor would be catastrophic.

I'm hopeful, but not very, that it doesn't come to that. In the meantime, I'm trying to stay away from national news. It messes with my happy place. I'd rather watch hunky men and bad-ass women stab the undead between the eyes.. or goopy eye sockets.. whatever.

Anywho... we'll talk again soon, kay? Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!

My Conversation with Verizon Wireless

I swear, corporate America will make you bleed. One way or another.

Visitor: Hi Victoria, I would like to remove the jetpack from my plan. It doesn't work in my area. Our coverage is only 1X. The contract date expires on 3/7

Verizon Lady: Hello! I'd be happy to take care of that for you.

Visitor: thanks!

Verizon Lady: Not a problem. Your early termination fee for the JetPack is $65.

Visitor: um no

Visitor: on what day can I terminate without a fee?

Visitor: i've already been paying for two years for something I can't use.

Verizon Lady: On March 7th is when there will be no early termination fee.

Visitor: ok thanks

Verizon Lady: Sure thing! Is there anything else I may help you with today?

Visitor: LOL no.. thanks

Visitor: Have a great day

Verizon Lady: Have a great day as well! Thank you for chatting in.

The only thing keeping me from switching to US Cellular, who provides service in this area, is that I'd have to get a whole new phone. I'd go prepaid local all the way.

Ass over a barrel, it's the New American Way.

My Country is Broken

I'm not sure how to begin....

The reality, not just of the amount of my raise, but the facts behind why it was so minuscule, has been gnawing at me for weeks. The corporate office is rolling in dough, with their glass conference tables and hi-rise building while I struggle to put gas in Jolene.

The halt that was put on our monthly bonus (just me, Lulu and Thelma, all other non-management employees still get it, ya know.. just us "girls" are left out) the absence of cost of living raises (again, all other non-management employees just got .42 an hour, but the three of us are excluded,) all wear on my mind.

Since losing giving up satellite t.v. and depending solely on the innerwebs for entertainment, I've been seeking out documentaries. I love docs of all kinds. I've been in nerd heaven with everything from 9/11 conspiracies to how to live off the grid. It's also meant I've depended less and less on traditional media for my news. There's a crap ton of stuff going on in this world that you'll never hear mentioned on MSNBC, FOX, ABC, NBC or CBS. Important crap. Even the weather forecasts are warped to hell and back for shock value.

Turn that shit off people.

I started making my own laundry soap about two years ago. In the past two weeks, I've cut my own hair, made my own cruelty free, hoof free shampoo and conditioner. I've studied how to create passive solar heating for the trailer, how to collect water and make my own dog food.

It sounds like I've gone all prepper right? All those docs talking about reaching "peak oil" and government conspiracies, capitalism, consumerism.. it's all gone to my head... ya think? When TSHTF (that's prepper talk for when the shit hits the fan) we're going to have to know how to survive, right?

Well, not exactly.. not like you think anyway.

Here in the holler.. at Mahala's house? The shit already hit the fan. I make shampoo because I run out and can't afford to buy more. I make conditioner for the same reason. I cut my own hair because while I can spring for the $12 Fantastic Sams special, I can't justify spending another $30 for the gas to make the round trip journey.

I don't think I'm alone. I think it's starting all over the country. Everyone is waiting for this big "event" to flip the switch.. but this is it. We're slowly sinking.

When I was about 6, the private school I attended gave swimming lessons. The first time I went in, I slipped and accidentally ended up on the deep end, struggling and gasping for air. The instructor had to pull me out. It seems like I've been desperately trying to keep my head above water ever since.

In the coming months, as I start my little garden, get some chickens, make plans for goats and start building my privacy fence (here in the holler, people are so far up your butt you can't pick your nose without them commenting or better yet, telling you how you SHOULD be doing it,) we'll pretend I'm just going all homesteader.

Or prepper. Or new age hippie. But the reality is just figuring out a way to survive in the new America.

Land of the free.

Home of the brave.

Later Taters!

For more information on off the grid living, check out:

Off the Grid: Simple Solar Homesteading

A Word on The Weiner Conspiracy

Anthony Weiner can't be real.

This whole stupid, winky texting brouhaha reminds me of one of those conspiracy theory movies, where someone in the government plants someone ridiculously outrageous in the media to draw attention away from something else.

He flashed his bits and his name is WEINER???? CARLOS DANGER????

WAKE UP PEOPLE AND SMELL THE SKUNK WEED!!!

What are they hiding? Why are they redirecting our attention? NO ONE CAN BE THIS CLUELESS!

He's probably an actor, it's the only logical explanation.  I mean.. has anyone seen this guy lately?

That's right. Pauly Shore, star of hits like Bio-Dome and Son-In-Law, aka The Wiesel. Here's a more recent picture:

And now.. Anthony Weiner:

I rest my case America. You are welcome.

The World's Gone Mad

I don't know if it's the influence of watching too much "when civilization as we know it ends" tv shows, spending too much time alone with the bunnies or just the general lack of physical contact in my life finally effecting me mentally, but don't the news broadcasts this week sound an awful lot like the opening scene of a post apocalyptic movie?

The angry little garden gnome in North Korea is strutting around like a chihuahua with a hambone, explosions rocking the Boston Marathon, West, Texas (in East Texas, by the way) pretty much just blows up and ricin poisoned letters showing up at the White House.

We're not even going to discuss the bird flu outbreak in China.

Maybe it did all start back in December. I'm starting to wonder.

I'm seriously considering buying more duct tape, plastic sheeting and bottled water for when the zombies come and we have to hole up in our houses. And salt to line the windows and doors.. just in case demons come bubbling up from hell.

And where the crap is a girl supposed to get a jug of Holy water when the ONLY Catholic priest in town sold the property to a B and B?

I'm only half joking.

Stay safe ya'll.

Later Taters!

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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Odds and Ends.. But Mostly Odd

This photo speaks to the
artist in me and makes
me crave a banana.

Lawd ya'll. This week has already been two months long... and it's only Humpday.

Have ya'll tried that yogurt that's supposed to help your digestive system? I did. My gut is always in a state of unrest, from one ailment or the other. I thought this miracle yogurt sounded like a great idea, so I picked some up.

On day two it hit me.

Now I know why Jamie Lee Curtis looks so tight lipped and perky in those commercials, sitting perfectly straight and putting a death grip on her yogurt spoon. She's trying with all the gumption God gave her not to CRAP HERSELF BLIND, right there on the tee-vee.

Good gawd.

But can I take a hint? Noooo. I go on the trusty old innerwebs and find that you're supposed to hang in there for two weeks, to give it a chance to "regulate" your system.

So I tried. And God as my witness, there was nothing "regular" about what took place in my lower abdominal region. I didn't even make it a week. That stuff is atomic. It should come with a warning label: "May cause excessive, explosive bowel movements. Incidents of customer's colons turning inside out, giving the appearance of a baboon experiencing spring time lust have been reported. Use with extreme caution and take extra care to pack yourself some extra granny panties (or big boy bloomers, as the case may be.)"

This has been a public service announcement.

~*~

I've been back on my quest to find ways to make some extra money. Extra from what I get paid at the Asylum, but not "extra" once it hits my bank account. I don't think I've ever had that kind of extra money.

I've tried just about everything on the internet short of running my own porn site.. although there was my brief career as a Second Life stripper...

But anywho..

I think I've finally found a couple of things I can do from home, when I have time, that don't require an "investment" of any kind. Keep your fingers crossed. If they pan out, I'll be sharing the information.

~*~

Jolene has developed a wiggle in her rear end, which may be attractive to boy trucks, but is a little unnerving when barreling down the backside of Froggy Mountain. I hope it's nothing major. I can't afford major. She also needs a bath and a good vacuuming. It's on my list.. my ever growing, extremely long To Do list. It should be called the "You'll Never Live Long Enough to Get All This Crap Done" list.

~*~

So far, The Amazon hasn't figured out her birthday pressies. At least, I don't think she has. She's crafty, that one. We've been having this debate over the cupcakes. I want to make something different, like strawberry or extreme chocolate, but the child wants yellow. YELLOW IS NOT A FLAVOR. And cream cheese icing.

Apparently, T.A. does not understand that I've been eating healthier, trying to shed a little of the junk in my trunk and I'm REALLY looking forward to these cupcakes. I keep reminding myself that my therapist warned me to stop making everything about me...but I'm the one who carried another being around in my nether regions for nine long months, only to have her RIPPED from my abdomen, left permanently scarred from the experience and granted permanent Black Sheep status within the family.. WHY CAN'T I GET A FREAKIN' CHOCOLATE CUPCAKE????????

*cough*

Anywho...

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

Later Taters!!

Going Green with Mahala

I wish I had some earth shatteringly fantastic story to tell you from my weekend, but other than Wally World, all I really did was nap. And apparently? That was way too much excitement for me so I had to nap some more. I guess all the fun from the last couple of weeks was catching up with me. On the plus side, I feel like kickin' ass and taking names this morning, so it's not all a bad thing.

As I mentioned, I had to hit Wally World yesterday. Old Mother Hubbard didn't have a damned thing on me. We were down two fish fillets and a apple and I'm the only one who eats fish. I hit Ma up for some help with the food bill, it's between paydays, ya'll know how that goes. Apparently she had a cash stash going on in her nightstand, which she handed to me, gave me a list of what she wanted and told me to get "whatever" with the rest. I'm not going to tell you how much it was because I spent every stinking penny. I had to borrow a dollar from The Amazon when I got to the checkout because I went over.

I can tell you that our freezer is full and that's one ginormous chunk of one less thing to worry about for a couple of weeks.

I had to make The Amazon haul my Christmas bonus turkey to the trash bin to make room for all of it. The big arsed fowl has been sitting in there since December, through numerous power outages and I'd already been informed by the other people living in my house that if I cooked it, I'd be eating alone.

I like turkey but not that much. I still think it would have been okay, but I reckon with all the salmonella outbreaks and brouhaha over bacteria and whatnot, tossing it was the safe thing to do.

A couple of years ago I watched a series on PBS about some people who volunteered to be gathered up and dumped on the shore somewhere remote with only the supplies that the pilgrims would have had. They formed a society and lived as they would have lived way back when. The New Age pilgrims were scraping bugs off meat and eating it and picking green fuzz off veggies before they cooked them and they survived. Don't you reckon maybe we're just spoiled nowadays? What's a little fuzz anyway? Penicillin is made from that stuff right? Maybe the fuzz is good for you, but we'll never know 'cuz the first sign of anything interesting going on and we toss what is probably perfectly good free antibiotics right in the trash.

I could give new meaning to "going green."

Anywho...

I'd better get the ol' honker to the grindstone. Bossholio is riding the attitude trolley this morning. We don't want him to derail.

Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

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!

Southern Fried Stings

When The Amazon was away at college, she made some great friends that I know she'll share a lifelong relationship with. Since moving back here to the holler, she's mentions them from time to time, a wistfulness in her voice that makes me think that she misses that big city school just a smidge.

One of her school buds she mentions often is England, the blossoming actress. Over the past few years, she's kept me posted on her latest acting gigs, mostly B horror flicks and indie films. But now? England has made the big time.

Well, sort of.

England is part of "The Jay Team" on TruTv's new show Southern Fried Stings. I hesitate to call it a "reality" show, I'll just let you reserve your own judgement on that.

Doesn't she look hot taking down this perp? It's actually Jay, but still, she looks like she's kickin' bootay to me.

On Southern Fried Stings, the Jay Team is called out when you've got a problem to solve but don't want to involve actual law enforcement.

I think that makes them a vigilante group. I'm a little afraid.

Check them out on Monday nights on TruTv at 10pm and you can say, "Hey! I read the blog of somebody who's kid went to school with that girl!" and people will be impressed with your awesomeness.

I promise.

Later Taters!

Full Figure Lingerie at Fredericks.com

Health Care Reform, Glumdaclitch and Knuckle Dragging Neanderthals

Let's recap this lovely Monday morning thus far, shall we?

I was running a little late on the way in, but I stopped at the campground store for a biscuit, throwing caution to the wind and risking being a few minutes tardy. Their deli has been closed for a couple of weeks for renovations and I was jonesin' for a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit. I walked in and Marty, the tattooed manager with ginormous hooters that excite our GM so much that sometimes he shows up with his little white biscuit bag and his eyes glazed over like a teenybopper, took one look at me and announced, "There will be no more biscuits. It sucks."

"Ever?" I asked, with a twinge of hope in my voice.

"Never, ever," she answered.

I may or may not have made a pouty face as I shuffled over to the rack holding the assortment of packaged pastries.

I made it to the office, only 3.5 minutes late, sat at my desk and, once situated, ripped into my Texas Cinnamon Roll. I sniffed it. I grimaced. When you can SMELL that a pastry is stale, that's pretty bad. I began to pull it apart, realizing it was hard as a rock and sighed as I rolled it up in the packaging and tossed it in the trash. Breakfast ended up being a pack of crackers from the company vending machine.

Next door to my cubey, Cousin Frankie was chatting with Lulu about his latest ailments. He's had the shingles and been down with his back. Now he's dragging his leg behind him. It all seems to be related but no one knows for sure what's going on. He was griping about our worthless health insurance and I chimed in with my two cents worth. It seems we pay every month for the privilege of saying we're covered, but that's about the extent of our benefits.

Except for the noggin' doc. I am thankful that I only have to pay a $30 co-pay to have my head examined.

Anywho..

I was caught off guard, but not really surprised when Cousin Frankie and Lulu's discussion of health insurance made it's way down the darkened path to Obama's health plan helping nobody but "them n*ggers and Mexicans."

I took a deep breath, turned the volume up on the radio and quietly talked myself down from my mental clock tower before I said a whole bunch of stuff I'd regret later.

I don't do politics. I don't know the details of the recently passed health care reform bill, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't specify specific races or nationalities. People, especially ignorant knuckle dragging neanderthal people, will hop on any bandwagon they can twist into a reason to spout hatred and discontent.

Please don't misunderstand. There are perfectly rational individuals without a trace of racism in their blood who oppose specifics of the bill for perfectly logical reasons. My anger isn't due to a difference in opinion over the passing of a bill. My blood boiling, venom spewing pissedoffedness (heh.. I made a new word) is over the gaul of some people to use ANYTHING as an excuse to attack groups other than those they personally identify with.

The really fun part? Cousin Frankie is, indeed, my distant cousin. We're both descended from a common ancestor, one listed on some census forms as "Glumdaclitch" who was rumored to be Cherokee. I think she was probably Melungeon. I'm still working on finding out how she was named after a character from Gulliver's Travels. In any case, she wasn't "white." That whole side of the family tree is peppered with dark skinned kinfolk of assorted racial backgrounds.

If I had the cajones, I'd point all this out to both Frankie and Lulu, my other distant cousin on that side.

I tried in vain to block it out, as they went on about people getting welfare checks and food stamps (both of which I've had to use in the past.) I think my favorite quote came from Lulu, who was telling Frankie about a girl she knew on assistance, "She's Mexican but she was born here."

I'm pretty sure that makes the girl in question an American.

I'm not really any better than they are, I suppose,  because I sit here, radio blaring, lips clenched, beating the hell out of my keyboard instead of speaking up.

And I'm ashamed.

Forgive me.

Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.

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Kevin Smith, Tiger Woods and My Opinion, Because I Know You Care

I've not had a good ol' southern fried hissy fit on current events in a while, so here are my opinions on the latest:

Tiger Woods- Do we really need a press conference? He's a GOLFER for God's sake, who cheated on his wife.. ALOT. We all know he's not sorry for cheating, he's just trying to save what's left of his reputation and wishing he never got caught. He's worried about endorsement contracts, not his marriage. I don't even care that he cheated, I just don't see why there has to be a big press conference when a sports personality can't keep his Wanderin' Willy in his pants.

Seriously.

The Olympics- I've watched maybe twenty minutes total. When I was younger, I'd be glued to the set, rooting for the U.S.A. I loved the ice skating, the skiing.. but now? It seems different. Too polished and flashy. I'm not entirely sure if it's the games that have changed or if it's me, but I just can't get into it.

The Snow- Can we give it a flippen rest already? It's snowing AGAIN. In the SOUTH. This ain't right ya'll.

And For the "What the Hell?" Category:

Sorry, I had to toss that in there.

My Boss- It must really suck to go through life being that blessed miserable 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It's no wonder he had a heart attack in the past. It's a shame they had to remove it. He could use one.

Jay Leno- Just. Shut. Up. You suck turtle toes. No one cares. Go away.

Kevin Smith- Southwest Airlines recently booted actor-director Kevin Smith from one of it's flights sighting his weight as a safety hazard. I've followed Mr. Smith's updates on Twitter as the story has unfolded and I've got a few thoughts on the situation. First, if this had happened to me, I would have cowered somewhere in the fetal position, crying for a week out of embarrassment. To Kevin Smith I say, give 'em hell.

Second, are there actual weight limitations? Mr. Smith was able to secure his seat belt without the aid of an extension. I thought that was the determining factor? It sounds to me like it's up to the discretion of the personnel on duty as to whether someone is "too fat to fly." Gee, catch Lucille on a bad day and she might toss Paris Hilton to the tarmac for retaining a little water.

While I'm sure I'll fly again, I can promise you I'll never set foot on a Southwest Airlines flight.

Bubbleboo- Lawd have mercy, please forgive me. Bubbleboo was so kind to bestow upon me an award:

Positive. Creative. Inspring.

 

I'm so late in accepting this award, that Bubbleboo has moved her blog since she gave it to me.

*hangs head in shame*

I always feel uncomfortable picking a few people out of the many blogs writers I admire to give awards to, so I encourage you to please check the "Brain Candy" section of my sidebar for lots of great blogs and check back often, the feed listing changes to reflect the latest postings.

And there you have it. My opinion. Because I know you care.

Later Taters!

Giving Me Good Vibrations

So have ya'll seen the latest in cosmetic developments? I'm not talking about the super dooper wrinkle eraser creams or the new and improved spackle and crack fillers.. I'm talking about that wonder of modern science...

.... Vibrating Mascara

We can put a man on the moon, send a robot to Mars, identify guilty criminals by the genetic makeup of a drop of their spit.. but the best thing we can come up with to make me look and feel like a super model is a mascara applicator that VIBRATES?

Seriously?

Ya'll know I've got the wonky joints and my hands tend to suddenly go off and do their own thing without rhyme nor reason, especially in the early morning hours. I can just see me staggering into the Hee-Haw clinic, my left eye swollen to twice it's normal size, bloodshot and surrounded by jaggedy, black smears, looking like a Picasso painting of a racoon, trying to explain how I impaled myself with vibrating mascara.

Oh yeah... the Tuesday Night Fried Chicken Social down at the Baptist church would be buzzing with a whole new topic of discussion. Only, by the time it got to them, the story would involve a giant, ethnically specific, marital aid and a farm animal or two... because that's how we roll down here in the holler.

Which reminds me... the last time me and the Amazon went down to the spiffy, new Wal-Mart over on the edge of civilization, I wandered around the health products while she shopped for toothpaste. I found myself gazing upon the shelves of birth control options... just in case I were to ever get the chance to partake of the joys of nookie related activities again... a girl needs to know what's available. It was there that I spotted it.. right beside the rainbow pack of ribbed, nubbed and greased up condoms... the Vibrating Touch Fingertip Massager.

AT THE WAL-MART FER GAWDSAKES!!

Now.. if you're gonna sell something that vibrates.. that right there seems like a much better use of the technology than something that goes in the general vicinity of one's eyeball.

I'm just sayin'..

Of course, I had to call the Amazon over and hint that this new product would make an excellent Christmas gift for the single mom, the price is reasonable and it's easy to find.. right there at Wally World. She was handling it okay until I pointed out that the packaging stated that the battery only lasted about 30 minutes and that she may want to include some extras with the gift.

She may or may not have fled, running down the aisle screaming for a sharp implement with which to stab her mind's eye in an effort to remove the visual that was now embedded in her brain.

Anywho.. it's Humpday ya'll  Let's hump it like a drunken prom queen. And? It's payday. I might be going to Wal-Mart after work.

For groceries. I swear.

Later Taters!

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!

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:

Simple Pleasures and Git R' Done

We woke up to an inch or two of snow blanketing the holler this morning. It's so pretty to look at, although it's colder than penguin snot outside. I'm totally violating the dress code today with my big white Adidas, but seeing how our company won't spring for a bag of rock salt for the parking lot, I'd rather take my chances with the GM than risk busting my delicate little bootay hiking across the frozen tundra.

About a month ago, Bossman warned Bubbles and I that January first would mark a new beginning. I thought he was turning over a new leaf, getting an attitude adjustment, looking on the bright side.

But no.

He went on to explain that the new year would bring his new "reign of terror." He said he was doing things his way... no more Mr. Nice Guy (cue Alice Cooper.) I was like... nice guy? You? That must have been only happening on my Monday's off because seriously? Bossman makes the troll under the bridge in "Three Billy Goats Gruff" seem like the Dalai Lama.

Now, almost three weeks into January, he seems to be holding to his promise. He barks and growls and practices general assholery on a daily basis while I'm walking around trying to keep a positive outlook, muttering new agey, self help phrases to myself.

He's not making it easy.

It probably doesn't help that while we're in the midst of job cuts, held raises and idle threats, he totalled the company car the other day.

Meanwhile, back at the trailer I gave the new carpet steamer a test run yesterday. We have this one big spot right in front of the fireplace that all our critters past and present have gravitated to in the middle of the night when nature calls... if you get my drift. For years I've gotten on my hands and knees scrubbing it with pet stain remover and died a little inside from embarrassment whenever anyone has come over.

As of last night, the stain was mostly gone. The new steamer rocks.

Little things make me happy.

Anywho... as I move throughout the day, selling boring manufacturing equipment, scraping change and tip toeing through the snow in the parking lot, I'll be smiling. I've been anticipating this day since November. It's time to roll up our sleeves, put on our grown up bloomers and work together.

We can do this. Oh hell yes we can.

Later Taters!

Religion, Politics and Other Touchy Subjects

In an effort to not think about:

#1 The fact that the Amazon is out with Aunt Moses learning to drive a straight shift and

#2 When I called Bossman to find out if I need to work Monday or not, he said, "Yeah, come on in Monday, then I can let you know what's going to happen,"

I've decided to focus on the award I received from MJ at Note to Self:

"The honorees are to: A) first list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep! B) pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap."

So here goes:

1. I spend alot of time convincing people that I'm not all about this small town living, but late at night when no one's looking, sometimes I watch the RFD channel. Dude... the original Hee-Haw comes on Sunday nights!

2. People around the holler like to whisper that I'm a lesbian because I speak out about gay rights and I've only had one date in the last ten years. Just for the record.. I'm not. I'm totally all about me some winky action. As a matter of fact, I think that will be my one New Year's goal. Winky action... gettin' some. You heard it here first.

3. I love watching the World Music videos on Link TV.

4. I also like to practice belly dance moves when no one's looking. One of my aunts danced professionally and taught me a few when I was little.

5. On my bedroom bookshelf, there are angels, a Buddha, a wooden box with Romani symbols, a Wiccan star and a cross. There is also a Bible, a copy of the Nag Hammadi and a book detailing the modern lives of Gypsies in the Czeck republic. I've read them all cover to cover. There are more too, but I can't tell you all my secrets. Draw your own conclusions.

6. I can simply imagine myself returning to the beach, sticking my toes in the sand feeling the ebb and flow of the waves tugging at my soul to bring myself to tears. I miss it that much.

7. I grew up in a culturally diverse neighborhood and spent my impressionable, high school years at a mostly black high school (Booker T. Washington High, thankyouverymuch.) For most of my childhood, Ma worked at a small Roses store in downtown Norfolk, where the most of the staff and customers were black. As a result, most of the funerals, weddings and holiday gatherings I attended outside of the family were in the homes and congregations of black people. When you consider that my entire family moved to Norfolk from Frog Pond Holler, bringing their thick, hillbilly accents with them, you'll realize why, when I get all wound up about something or worse, get in a verbal altercation, I revert to an accent that has often been referred to as "ghetto hillbilly."

It's not unlike that of "Joy" on "My Name is Earl."

And yes, I prefer to use the term black, not African American. In the neighborhood where I grew up, if someone referred to any of the sweet little old ladies that lined our street as "African American" they would be quick to point out that they were not born in Africa, they were not "African American," they were AMERICAN. You don't call "white" people "European American" do you?

8. I can't make scratch biscuits or gravy to save my effin' life. The dog won't even touch them. Thank heavens for frozen biscuits and those little packets of instant gravy.

9. Mahala Davis is a pen name. My real name is ridiculously country, having been named after my two grandmothers. I don't care if ya'll know my real name, but can you imagine if someone from town were to stumble across my blog? Heads would roll. Namely... mine.

10. I know the meaning of life. When you brush away all the politics, all the "rules" of religion, all the borders, races and other assorted bull crap... it is simply this: Unconditional Love. When you have mastered that one, simple thing, the rest will all fall in to place and you will know true peace.

So there you have it. I hope I didn't rehash too many things I've already told ya'll in the past. If any of you want to tackle ten things, let me know in the comments and I'll give you a little linky love.

As I write this, I'm trying to psyche myself up to not dwell on what may come on Monday. They laid off 5 people Wednesday, then the GM came by and told me and Bubbles to take today off, so you can see why Bossman's comment when I called him today sorta worried me. I've been walking around muttering, "everything happens for a reason" and "when one door closes, another one opens," etc.

Ya'll have a booty kickin' weekend! 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!

Autumn Aromas, Silver Parachutes and Lot's of Pukin'

Fall is upon us here in the holler. The morning air is a little cooler and carries the faint aroma of wood smoke as local residents fire up the old cast iron stoves, sending plumes of grey up in to the sky, just long enough to get the chill off before sending the youngins out to the bus stop.

Old pick-ups pass you on the narrow roads, so loaded down with wood that the truck bed sits six inches lower than the cab. They take their time and you get out of their way as they haul the first of what will probably be many loads over the winter, depending on how cold it gets.

Soon the roads will be covered with tourists in cars, RVs and fancy motorcycles, mostly retired folks arriving in large packs to see the blankets of bright orange, gold and red, like giant patchwork quilts covering the hills as the leaves turn, one last hurrah before winter takes hold.

Well.. if they can find any gas that is.

There ain't none in Frog Pond Holler and from what I hear, your chances aren't much better out towards Big City. It takes gas to run the chainsaws to cut the wood to heat the majority of homes here. I'm glad I don't have to worry about that anymore... although I'm a little afraid to order oil for the furnace. I'm sure it's going to cost some ungodly amount.

When we first moved here, I spent many a Saturday morning moving wood from the pile by Uncle Barney's wood splitter to the back of his truck, where my trashy, big-boobed cousin with the lazy eye would stack it. When we'd finish, he'd haul it down to the house and we'd unload it and stack it again. Then, of course, you had to haul it in to the house, in smaller stacks, by the wood stove.

I've never been so glad to see a thermostat as I was when we moved in to that trailer.


~*~

Things got a little tense here at the Asylum yesterday. First, Thelma called in sick. P.G. said she sounded awful, like she was near death. Louise immediately went all CDC with the Lysol.

Then, around ten or so, Lulu flew past me in the hall, mumbling something.. but all I understood out of it was "pukin." She was plumb green. I ran back to my desk and doused myself with Moonlight Path hand sanitizer.

Soon after, Lulu showed up at my door with her purse in hand. "I'm goin' home. I didn't finish yesterday's stuff... just enter orders and don't worry about it. I'll sort it out tomorrow." She said this because Thelma is Lulu's back up.. and she was at home, knockin' on heaven's door according to P.G.

Louise snuck in to Lulu's office after she left and coated everything with Lysol. The stench of disinfectant would have gagged a moose.. but by gawd there wasn't any way a germ survived.

Soon after Lulu left, the G.M. made his way down the hall. "Where's Lulu?" he asked.

"She left. She was pukin'" I answered. No sense in beating around the bush.

"Well... where the hell is Thelma?" he seemed agitated.

"She called in sick."

He went down the hall to P.G. and interrogated him as to the gory details and severity of Thelma's ailment. Then, he had Louise get her on the phone and proceeded to inform her that she needed to come in and finish yesterday's paperwork.

Now.. regardless of the fact that once Thelma got here, it became painfully obvious that there was little, if anything wrong with her, I can't believe he had the cajones to call her and make her come in. I mean, seriously? If I were to call in sick and he were to do that, I believe I would end up getting fired.

We don't get paid for sick days, it's not like she was getting anything out of the company and we're all working part time hours anyway. We fight over getting to come in any at all.

Anywho.. it made everyone uncomfortable. Oh and then he walked around cracking jokes that Lulu must be pregnant to have to leave pukin'.

~*~

A few words on this "Bailout" situation..

I had to give up getting my nails done.. and those of you who've been around here a while know how much I loved my hookerlicious ho nails. I have a serious case of hag hair because I can't justify driving to Fanstastic Sams Samuele De Fantastique for a hair cut, nor have I spent the whopping $8.99 on a box of hair color.. all so that I can at least make my house payment and truck payment in a timely manner.

The credit cards are another story.. but anyway..

Are the CEOs of these big companies doing without anything? Are they skipping their hair cuts? (Which I'm sure cost more than the $12 mine would.) Do they still have service to their Crackberries and IPhones? And we're going to put money in their pockets?

I'm sorry.... but there is something seriously wrong with this picture.

I'm QUITE certain they wouldn't stand nervously at the dentist's office after an emergency visit, breaking out in to a cold sweat and praying to all that's holy that their credit card payment go through because they don't have any cash until the end of the month. A visit that cost them way more than it should because their insurance barely covers walking in the office, much less the dentist actually DOING anything.

I understand that there is a fear that if we don't do something, there will be a domino effect, sending the economy even deeper in to the bowels of hell than it already is, but seriously? Isn't there another solution? I mean.. can I get a bail out over here? I'll pay my mortgage and my truck payment.. but could I just get like $2,000 for credit cards?

I don't need a Golden Parachute, sterling silver will be just fine.

I know.. I shouldn't have charged it if I couldn't pay it. But you see, I had a full time job then. I've been with this company for going on 13 years and I've NEVER had my hours cut, I had no reason to suspect that I'd be working 32 hours a week when I used my credit card for frivolous things like repairs on the van so that I could get my kid back and forth to college for four years. A van, if you'll remember, that I had to tie the door closed because the latch was broken. Or a window unit to replace the central air that went belly up this summer.. in the armpit of the south where 98° is a regular occurrence.

I guess you can blame whoever's fault it is that my hours got cut. Well.. let's see.. that was whoever is responsible for sales going in the toilet, a direct result of the economy taking a nose dive.. and we're right back to the very people we're bailing out.

Smells like bullshit to me.

Sorry, the whole thing's making me a little pissy.

Anywho...

Bubbles is gone to lunch, so I'm going to bask in the solitude and jam to a little Skid Row. Ya'll have a kick ass Humpday.

Hump it like a CEO.

P.S. I want to thank MJ over at Note to Self for the linky love. Ya'll run by her place and say hi :)