Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Today's Post is Brought to You by the Number 100

That's right fuckeroonies, this is my 100th post. I almost wish that I had something profound and insightful to say, like they do on TV. The 100th episode of any television show is cause for celebration with a big ass cake and a bunch of candles. Someone loses their virginity, does drugs, gets drunk from their parents' liquor cabinet, gets knocked up, et cetera, ad nauseum. But here in hoo-ha land, we're gonna keep it simple. There *gasp* may be some swearing in this post, so tuck the kiddies off to sleep.

I spent the most of Sunday and all of Monday and Tuesday in bed with a raging case of the clap, er I mean bronchitis. My musings/ponderings from my forced bed rest lead me to believe that the nastiest taste in the world, aside from fecal ice cream, is bronchial induced phlegm. I can't even explain the taste, because it is a vintage all its own, but it is quite bitter with hints of bile and just a note or two of garlic. I also realized that if you cough twenty times in less than a minute and open your mouth realllllyyyyy wide, that you can catch a glimpse of your lung. You can only see one at a time though, so that is kind of shitty. I've seen more watching my own Upper GI, but still, after watching the Real Housewives of Orange County for 20 hours straight, a gal needs something to look forward to before pure boredom sets in.

I went back to work today to find out that one of my customers passed away the day before Thanksgiving. It came as a huge shock because he was still very young (early middle age) and he had a massive heart attack that killed him. I am so sad for his family and his wife. They were still newlyweds and my heart breaks for her and the rest of his family.

I also got to deal with what may be the stupidest person in the world today. Sometimes, I struggle not to laugh when dealing with this creature because if I start, I may not be able to stop until I keel over, or I give in to my fantasy of taking a chair leg, or some other handy device, and braining the freak with it. How someone, who may be illiterate, acquired the rank and title that this borderline brain dead IQ haver received is beyond me. I get sick to my stomach every time I have to deal with this person and by the time it is over, I just want to crawl into the fetal position and suck my thumb. Instead, I rely on a steady supply of sarcasm and the knowledge of my greater intelligence to get me through. However, one of these days, my internal monologue is going to go on the fritz and I will just start blurting out what runs through my head every time we meet. Namely things like: "how do you stand upright?" and "Is your ass starting to eat the rest of your body?" and "Is it possible for you to have more than one application open in your brain at any given time, no, didn't think so." When that day comes, YOU WILL ALL HEAR ABOUT IT. Probably along with the notice that I was fired from my job, but we can't win 'em all.

Thank you all so much for your sweet words and encouragement from the last post. As I mentioned before, I was sick for the last three days, but I did read all of your comments. And to clear one issue up, I am not epileptic, but I do have seizures. For the last seven years, I have suffered from seizures that started from a severe concussion. They are like epileptic seizures in some ways and are different in others. The first time I had an episode, I actually lost the ability to speak and I had to teach myself how to speak normally again. I stuttered horribly and I would have sometimes more than a dozen seizures in a day, which would reverse my progress. The first two weeks were the worst. Slowly but surely, I started having less and less seizures as time moved on. I went from multiple times a day to once or twice a day to once or twice a month over a period of 6 to 8 months. Finally, they subsided almost completely. Now I normally only have a seizure if I am at an extreme point of exhaustion, sick or very upset. I do know when I am getting ready to have a seizure because I get what is called an "aura" which is a pre-seizure indicator, so I can prepare myself. Sometimes, I can even fight them off, but not always. It's something that you learn to live with, and it could have been a lot worse than it actually ended up being, so there.

Being my 100th post, we will celebrate in true ADW style with another foreign language swearing lesson. This time, we are going to learn how to swear in Mongolian. Those Genghis Khan freaks with the high foreheads never come visit me, even though I am 1/1689th Mongolian. Dickheads.

Chatsag - Diarrhea

Nusaa chirsen pizda - Snot Dragging Cunt - WTF?

Umbuu - This is the word cow when used as an insult

Muu altsaasan yanhan - This means "dirty spread-legged whore" as opposed to closed legged whore

Iruugai avaj nuruugai maijmar, ilgai avaj bogsoo archmar - THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE -

Take your jaws and scratch your back, and take your liver and wipe your ass

I know that I am way behind on my Pinocchio story, but I have been sick, so shut up!!!

Plus, there is a very important day coming up, one you will all be celebrating. I need to think up a suitable post or six to devote to my very favorite day of the year.

Now to leave you with my favorite saying that I used to sign Hooters T-Shirts with:

"Let me sit on your face, so you can eat your way to my heart."


Sunday, November 25, 2007

The Post With A Ton Of Shit In It


See, to me, holidays are meant to be spent with your family. Not your in-laws.

I had not one but TWO turkey dinners to eat on Thursday because my mother-in-law refused to go to my sister-in-law's house for THEIR dinner because her family would be there and since her mother just died about six months ago MY mother-in-law felt uncomfortable being around the SIL's dad during his first holiday without his wife. (See how everything gets turned back around to what the MIL wants, feels, needs, desires?) So since WE committed to going to the first Thanksgiving, the MIL and FIL pulled the: "Well I guess we'll go OUT to eat for Thanksgiving this year since no one is coming to our house" card and started WWIII. So we ate at two and then had to pack up and drive 30 minutes for a second dinner that no one really wanted to eat.

I was disgusted. Seriously disgusted.

Oh and I forgot to mention the lovely seizure that I had at my SIL's house. Freaked my husband's brother out but fucking good. No I don't need anything. No don't call the ambulance. My husband has it all under control. Leave me alone.

Then my sister-in-law in all of her snarky glory says:

"You ain't getting out of going to the second dinner with this one sister!"

She cracks me up. Plus we have the added bonus of both being hated by my mother-in-law, so it helps us bond. Since I had the seizure AND I was planning my BLACK FRIDAY SHOPPING EXCURSION extraordinaire, I couldn't drink. I think my SIL did enough of that for both of us.


The BLACK FRIDAY SHOPPING EXCURSION did not go as smoothly as it has in the years past. In fact, it was almost unbearable. I woke up late and started crying - seizures make me a little over emotional. I blamed my husband for me waking up late..... and he was supposed to help me wake up. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he rolled his eyes at me. That alone is reason enough for me to beat someone's ass. So I told him that he could do all of the Christmas shopping this year since I do it ALL BY MYSELF every fucking year and I buy all of the presents for HIS family who FUCKING HATE ME ANYWAY!

Somehow I managed to crawl out of bed and make it to Kohl's, but my shopping plan was shot to hell. As I maneuvered around, looking for a parking spot, I just started crying. I missed my family. I didn't have anyone to share the holy day of shopping with me. I know that most of you stay FAR AWAY from the stores on Black Friday, but I love the chaos, confusion and fun that you can have on that day. Last year my baby sister came up from Maryland for the holiday weekend and we had so much fun. I found a pair of Bubba Teeth at the WalMart, opened the package, put them on, and smiled at unsuspecting strangers all day long. It was a great way to break the ice and joke around with people while waiting in lines. And the year before, my girlfriend and I went together and then had a long lunch, replete with frozen cocktails afterwards.

I guess what I am saying is that I didn't have anyone to share that with this year. I spent the night before outlining my store shopping schedule, circling the items that I wanted to find and purchase, totally exited at the prospect. But when I pulled into the first store's parking lot, I was already four hours behind schedule. How was I supposed to save A THOUSAND DOLLARS, like I did last year? We have a huge extended family and by shopping on Black Friday, I manage to save a ton of money every year. Plus I enjoy myself and the melee that I throw myself into. So there I was, pulling into a space approximately fourteen miles from the store's entrance, with tears in my eyes and a broken heart. I was missing my sisters and my parents. My husband's family doesn't name their turkey every year like we do and I was missing that. I didn't get to drink wine with all of the women in my family while we went about preparing our feast and here I was alone and sad.

What did I do?

I squared my shoulders and marched off into the mess. I hit Kohl's and Toys R Us, Walmart and Macy's, JC Penneys and every other store in between. Except for SEARS, but you all know why I hate those mother fuckers. After standing in line at Kohls for close to an hour, I called my husband up on the cell and asked him to please send in a SCUD missile strike to our location to put me out of my misery. I listened to the two crackerjack dimwits in front of me, who were probably friends for 38 years, end each and every sentence with either "REEEEEEAAAAALLLLYYYYY" or "Oh My Gawwwwwdddddd". I was pushed and bumped, tussled and bruised, mostly by angry old men. I came to the realization that the only men out by themselves on Black Friday morning are either over 60 or gay. Period. I realized that just because every other dickweed dillhole loses all semblance of manners on that day that I didn't have to do so. I remained pleasant and gracious and remembered that those folks ringing up my purchases had to get up at two in the morning to go to work that day and deal with the aforementioned fuckwads and I was very polite to them, thanking them and wishing them a Merry Christmas. I shopped until my feet went numb and then I shopped some more. I did not eat or drink anything lest it affect my digestive or urinary systems while standing in line. I did save up some gas so I could CROP DUST anyone who was acting like an asshole to others. I got it done. But it wasn't the same.

Still, I did get some good bargains and my husband met me for lunch later that day and we took the little one to see Santa Claus. There were zero people in the line, so we walked right up to him and my little Peanut Butter chattered on and on about what he wanted for Christmas, looking so serious as he told that jolly old fellow about his dreams of getting an Optimus Prime Transformer (one of the items I lost out on due to my lateness) and his desire for a Power Rangers cell phone that will transform him into the Red Power Ranger at the push of a button.


Later that evening, we attended the benefit for our friend Dakota and the Cure Tay-Sachs Foundation. The outpouring of support from the entire Cleveland area was nothing short of amazing. I truly admire the Bihn family for standing up and doing something to bring awareness to a disease that kills so many children yet only receives 85,000 dollars a year in research funding. Most people think that Tay-Sachs only affects Ashkenazi Jews, but in reality 1 in 50 Irish Americans carry the same gene. The hardest part of the evening was listening to Ken tell their story with Dakota in her mother's arms knowing that our little friend is dying. But the evening was a huge success. The silent auction raised a huge amount of money and I won an Ohio State Gift basket. Yay!!! We danced with our friends and drank cans of beer - yuck, but it was all donated and the proceeds went to the foundation and my only other option was a boxed wine White Zinfandel and that was ten times worse than Miller Lite in a can. Even my scrooge of a husband was more than happy to spend money buying raffle tickets for the cause.

This morning I woke up with a huge headache, a little happy and still a little sad. I can't tell you all how much I am looking forward to Christmas and my family's visit.

More on that later....


Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Thankful 2007

I am such a copycat, but I am doing a "things I am thankful for" as stolen from The Cherry Ride.

See Cherry, I told you that I would give you your proper.

  1. My vagina - she flips, she spins, she makes grown men whimper
  2. Captain Morgans - makes #1 more amorous
  3. All other Rums - in case they are out of Captain Morgans
  4. Capitalism - money, money, money.......MONEY
  5. Technology - Makes me money, money, money......MONEY
  6. Preparation-H - helps millions sit easier every day
  7. Urban Dictionary - yeah
  8. Swear Words - Where would we be people, without the ability to cuss a muthafucka out
  9. SpongeBob Squarepants - keeps child #2 occupied for hours
  10. The power of the boob - keeps the big kid occupied for hours
  11. Mechanical Bulls - keeps me in a steady supply of #6
  12. Tom Cruise's crazy ass - makes me laugh, shake my head and wonder at the supreme idiocy of Hollyweird
  13. Other Bloggers - I heart you hard core
  14. Trailer hitch bull testicles - Have you ever seen these flapping about while driving down the highway? It's a site for the ages.
  15. People with a sense of humor
  16. Gay hairdressers
  17. Kickboxing class - it has kept me out of both jail and rehab. Totally worth the 39 bucks a month.
  18. Baby wipes
  19. High heels
  20. Short skirts
  21. The fact that both #19 and #20 supply me with #2 for free
  22. Turkey
  23. John Madden's fat ass on screen eating Turducken every third Thursday in November.
  24. Our men and women serving in the military.
  25. My family
  26. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
  27. The space program
  28. The human body's ability to fart
  29. Ice Cream Cake
  30. Fat babies
  31. Great friends
  32. Better enemies
  33. People who say what's on their mind and don't give a fuck who cares.
  34. The Declaration of Independence and her sister the Constitution - we're not perfect, but I still live in the greatest country on earth.
  35. AstroGlide
  36. My Eager Beaver and her sister the Wascally Wabbit
  37. Singapore Slings
  38. The word cunt
  39. Parents who like to drink
  40. Neighbors who RAWK

I am sure there is a bunch of other shit I am missing, but for now, it's good enough.

I will leave you all with this conversation I had with the Mr the other day:

I was leaving the house Saturday morning to go to my kickboxing class. I was running late and grabbed Mr's old, ratty ass Ohio State sweatshirt that is quite possibly older than I am.

I kiss the hubs on the cheek (he is asleep in bed) and start to walk down the stairs. I am halfway down when I hear this:

Mr - "Hey you! Get back up here a sec."

Me - Walk back into the bedroom "What?"

Mr - "That's what I thought I saw. Take my sweatshirt off."

Me - "Are you serious?"

Mr - "Look Ohio State is playing Michigan today and I have to wear my sweatshirt. So take it off and find something else to wear"

Me - ????? Glaring "Seriously?"

Mr - Just stares

Me - "FINE!!! But this sweatshirt won't suck your dick" I take it off and throw it at him.

Mr- After looking at me and then at the sweatshirt. "Well you don't either"

Me - "Point taken"

And since OSU stomped that team from up north's ass into the ground, I have a feeling that I will never be allowed to wear the sweatshirt.

One more thing:

How do you keep a Michigan player from masturbating?


Paint his dick Scarlet and Grey, he won't beat it for years.

A ha ha ha.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Muck Fichigan

How much do I love this weekend? Way more than last one, that's for sure....

The Ohio State Buckeyes spanked Michigan AGAIN!!!!

Good idea coming back for your senior year just to beat Ohio State guys... bwa ha ha ha!!

Browns beat the Dirty Birds in OT......

And a conversation between me and Mr. ADW (Still employed and thank you for your support everyone!!!)

Me - "Let me hit you"
Mr. ADW - "Uh.... no"
Me - "C'mon, I want to see if my kickboxing is working"
Mr. ADW - "Uh.... no"
Me - "A real man would let me hit him"
Mr. ADW - "I guess I'm not a real man then"
Me - "Seriously. I need to see if I could actually hurt another person and I need a dummy to try my punching out on"
Mr. ADW - "OK, if you hit me, it's gonna start WWIII up in here. It will send a signal to my brain and I can no longer be responsible for my actions"
Me - "Pussy"

Come on people. I want to find out if my new found strength would work in real life situations. Who better to practice on than my husband. But noooooooooooo. I would have only hit him once. Or twice. Just to be sure.


Any volunteers?

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Drive, Drive on Down the Field

Men of the Scarlett and Gray

This last week has been ultra, super-duper hectic. I was in Columbus for a conference and did not get home until late last night. Suffice it to say that the trip was interesting.

I was groped, propositioned, ingested about 14 gallons of rum, saw a decapitated cat, stayed at a hotel right by the horseshoe, attempted to steal a signed hockey stick from a random Lexus salesman and had a hell of a good time.

Today was the ultimate day from hell. Really, really bad. A former employer is trying to give me a hard time, but has my "best interests at heart." To this I say: Suck on a Rhesus Monkey cock you fucktarded shitstain!!!! I LOVE my new company. I no longer go to work every day with lead bricks in my stomach. There are no more weekly confrontations where I am genetically predisposed to stand up for myself. I am HAPPY!!!!! For the first time in a long time I am really Happy!!! I just celebrated a year with my company and I look forward to many more to come. Then, I heard from my husband that there was a massive lay-off at his company that came out of the blue to most people including upper management. He works for a place that employs over 30,000 people and the estimates are running as high as a 10% lay-off rate. Not good. So far he has avoided the purges and since he is a dedicated employee, I hope he keeps his job, but there are no guarantees and apparently, no rhyme or reason to the purge since they have let anyone from part timers to 25 year+ employees go. Scary shit.

But the end of my day was good. A project that I have been working on for over 10 months has come to fruition and I am ecstatic, so while the day started off poorly and just got worse, the ending couldn't have been better.

I know that I haven't been around much lately, but I am trying and I hope to stop by and visit everyone in the next couple of days.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease


Saturday, November 10, 2007

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Program...

Sorry guys and gals, but no Pinocchio today. Yeah, yeah, I am like so sure ya'll are disappointed in that one.

The fact is, I have nothing to give right now; at this very minute in time. I am empty.

Work is crazy busy right now which has both good and bad issues associated with said business. Yesterday, I went into the office after a morning meeting, ate some pizza and proceeded to spend about 30 minutes in the bathroom puking. I knew I wasn't feeling good when I ate it, but I was hungry and it was there. So there I am, with my face pressed into the tile floor, struggling to get my nylons off and I just started crying. I hate being sick and since no one else got Puke-face from the food, I figured that it was just me.

I got home at about 6:30 last night and was in bed an hour later. But I couldn't sleep. My tummy hurt!!! And then, as I laid there in bed, stomach rumbling, something on television reminded me of my grandmother and I started crying. God I miss her so much it takes my breath away at times. It's been about a year and a half since she died and while it has gotten better with time, the grief sometimes sneaks up on me and grabs me by the throat.

So there I am, in bed, sick, miserable, pukey and crying. What a day! After 3 or 4 hours of stomach cramps and self-flagellation, I wanted some toast. So being the diva I am, I picked up the phone and called my butler, AKA the hubby, on his cell phone. He was laughing as he answered the phone:

Mr. ADW: "Um, Hi?"
ADW: "What are you doing?"
Mr. ADW: "I was in the bathroom, and then I heard my phone ringing, so I answered it."
ADW: "Can you make me some toast?"
Mr. ADW: "Sure, I'll bring it up in a minute."

5 minutes later, he walks upstairs with my toast. I eat my toast, start to feel a little better and fall asleep.

Sometimes love is just there. And even if the person who loves you doesn't know it, their love for you, put into action, can make it all better.

I want to apologize for not commenting on your posts. I do read them as often as I can, but my schedule sucks major ass right now, and having some kind of stomach bug on top of it isn't helping. I have to be in Columbus this next week and I won't have much, if any time to visit you guys. Hang in there with me if you can.

See you soon!!

Oh, and go visit my friend Britt and lift her spirits as well. She is fucking awesome and if you live under a rock and don't know her, get over there and leave a few nice words for her.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Peni-Poke-e-o Round 2

So, fuckers. Here we are for another round of "How fucking twisted can that stupid bitch be?" Starring me!!!

Onward Hoes

Page 5

When Geppetto awoke, he could not believe his eyes. "My wish has come true!" he shouted. "Pinocchio is alive!" Although Geppetto soon realized that Pinocchio was still made out of wood, it mattered little to him.

"I shall love you just the way you are," he told Pinocchio. Then he explained that Pinocchio had to go to school, like all boys. And so, that very morning, Pinnochio happily set off.

When Geppetty rolled out of bed after taking a few toots of the pixie dust he keeps around the shop, the first thing he did was wrap his chubby little woodcarver arms around the toilet and pray he didn't puke up his Cecum. As he stumbled around the room looking for some coffee, or a little smack to wake him up, he noticed that the puppet he stuck it to the night before was moving around.

"Fuck me, that dust was some good shit. I'm gonna have to get another eight for later."

Then Geppetty realized that the wooden puppet was actually alive. To his dismay, he saw that while it walked and talked like a real boy, he was still going to have to watch out for those splinters. But Geppetty didn't care, he would still love up on the tot like he was a real boy.

After ten minuted of listening to the kid's incessant whining, he had a better idea.

"I pay fucking taxes like all of these other fuckers. I'll send his wooden little ass to school with all of the other little boys and they can watch him all day."

So off to school Pinocchio trotted, never knowing what was in store for him.

Uh, is it just me, or did you all notice that in this sleepy little village, no little girls go to school? What?

Page 6

Pinocchio hadn't gone far when Gideon, a cat, and Foulfellow, a sly fox, saw him.

Foulfellow thought, "A wooden boy with no strings. I'll bet Stromboli, the puppeteer, would pay a pretty price for him."

Foulfellow convinced Pinocchio that acting was the life for him and sold Pinocchio to Stromboli.

So off Pinocchio hobbled along to school, keeping the pace slow as to accommodate all of the soreness. He only made it a short distance when he saw a mangy old pussy and some red furry thing with a top hat and cane.

"Who would want anything to do with some haggard ass Pussy?" Pinnochio wondered aloud.

Just then, the two hairy beasts gave him the bum rush. Before he knew it, Pinocchio was tied up like a Christmas turkey and tossed in the back of a black panel van.

Right before he lost consciousness, Pinocchio heard his kidnappers discussing their plan to sell him to one of Geppetty's enemies; another slaver named Stromboli. His last thought was that the guy sounded like something on the menu of a pizza parlor. Then it all faded into black.

By the way, why do these people not have real jobs? I mean a woodcarver and a puppeteer? Please. Quit sucking off the federal teat, grow some balls and forge some iron.

Page 7

That night, after Pincchio had performed to rounds of applause, Stromboli locked him in a cage.

"How am I ever going to get out of this horrible place?" said Pinocchio, sobbing.

Just then a voice called out, "Don't worry, Pinoke, I'll save you!" It was Jiminy Cricket! He had followed Pinocchio to Stromboli's caravan. Now Jiminy pulled, pushed, and shook the lock on the cage. But he couldn't get Pinocchio out.

That evening, a big hairy ape named Stromboli made Pinocchio dance naked on stage for a bunch of old men. After collecting all of the money that he earned, Stromboli called Pinocchio his little bitch, slapped him on the ass and locked him in a cage just big enough for a small boy.

Pinocchio started crying. "Better the devil you know that one you don't," he thought as his sobs got louder and louder. Stromboli the Ape came back into the room and tasered Pinocchio to shut him up.

After Pinocchio awoke, he saw that the cricket, Jiminy, was still in his shirt. Pinocchio watched with amazement as the little bugger scratched and clawed at the cage, trying to help him escape, but he just wasn't strong enough to do it.

Did you dickheads see my reference to a CHRISTMAS TURKEY? Huh, did you?

Stay tuned to see how Pinocchio gets rescued by the Blue Ball Fairy.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Pinocchio ADW Style

So, by a count of eight to seven, my take on Pinocchio won the "next blog story."

Here you go:

Pinocchio (With comments by ADW)

Once upon a time, long ago, the wishing star shone brightly in the night sky. Its beams formed a shimmering pathway to a sleepy little village below. Only one house still had a light burning in the window, and that was the workshop of Geppetto, the kindly old woodcarver. Geppetto was happily finishing a puppet he had made out of wood.

First I would like to address the wishing star. Where is this village with a wishing star and how soon can I fly my broke ass over there? Are there limits to the amount of wishes that you can get from the star? Are there any sacrifices that need to be made to the star in order for it to grant the wisher's request? If so, I have a couple of useless, pain in the ass dogs and one wicked witch of a neighbor that I would be happy to sacrifice for the just cause of making myself deleriously wealthy, with the body of a goddess.

Why is everyone in the fucking village sleeping? I think that this is probably a fishing village, later proven correct in the book, and that they need their sleep for a long day of hauling in crabs, haddock and tuna. But, if this is indeed a blue-collar kind of place, what do they need an old wood carver for? Haven't these folks ever heard of scrimshaw?

"The kindly old woodcarver" has got to be another way of saying creepy, dirty pedophile. I am as sure of this as I am the fact that I am the sexiest person in this room right now. Certain I tell you. We shall see.

Page 2

"The only thing left to do now," said Geppetto to the puppet, "is to give you a name. Let's see... I shall call you Pinocchio!"

"What a grand name for such a handsome boy!" Jimminy Cricket said with a chirp.

That night, as Geppetto lay in bed, he looked out at the bright evening star and made a wish. Geppetto wished that Pinnochio were a real boy. Then he drifted off to sleep.

Here is where I insert how the story really should be written.

Crazy old Geppetty (a much cooler nickname for a loony-tune) started talking to the puppet, which is not much of a surprise when you take into account the fact that he is off his rocker. He told the puppet that he was going to name him Pinnochio. Probably so he would remember what name to call out when he was getting splinters in his dick.

Geppetty saw a cricket in the corner. "Oh look," he cried out! That is my friend Jiminy. "What are you saying," asked Geppetty?

Jiminy Cricket looked at Geppetty and rolled his eyes. "Crazy old fart. I ain't got nuthin to tell you 'bout nuthin. I'm outta here before I have to watch you violate that poor little puppet."

Geppetty looked at Pinocchio and then made a wish on that wacky evening star. (As opposed to the one that hovers about midday.) Geppetty wished that Pinochio was a real boy; there wouldn't be anymore splinters that way.

Page 3
By now I have realized that this is going to have to be a multiple part post, because I don't have the time or inclination to do this shit for 14 more pages right now. Not one more person could have fucking voted for me to write my fucking Christmas fucking story? Not one? I'm a hunt you bastards down who voted for this fucking Pinocchio story and fart on your faces. You sons of bitches.


Suddenly the Blue Fairy appeared in Geppetto's workshop. "Good Geppetto," whispered the fairy, "you have given so much happiness to others, you deserve to have your wish come true." Then, with a wave of her wand, the Blue Fairy brought Pinocchio to life.

"A-a-am I a REAL boy?" Pinicchio asked the Blue Fairy.

All of a sudden, a cracked out tranny appeared in the window of Geppetty's workshop/white slavery headquarters. While stumbling about, looking for some cash or easily pawned items to sell and score a quick fix, shim slipped and fell on something wooden.

At that moment, the shim, AKA the Blue Ball Fairy, farted, spewing semen and taint juice all over the puppet. And something magical happened. The puppet became animated from the con-cock-tion of man juice mixed with a little PCP.

"A-a-am I a real boy?" Pinnochio asked the Blue Ball Fairy.

Page 4
I have the stamina of a ninety-year old oil billionaire trying to keep his willie up. Fuck I'm tired. And all kinds of screwed up from this DST bullshit. Fuck.

"No, Pinnochio," she answered. "First you must prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish. You must also learn to choose between right and wrong. You conscience will help you."

"What's a conscience?" asked Pinocchio.

"That's the small voice that people don't always listen to" Jiminy Cricket answered.

The Blue Fairy made Jiminy Cricket kneel down before her, and she dubbed him Pinocchio's Official Conscience. It would be his job to see that Pinnochio did only what was right. Then the Blue Fairy vanished.

I just have to say, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HERE? Seriously.

"Uh, I'm not real sure about that one little buddy. Maybe if you do some good things, you won't turn into a tricked-out, crack-head freak like me. Maybe you should follow your..... Oh shit, what was that thing called? It's the angel that sits on one shoulder. Fuck. Oops. Hee-hee. Guess I shouldn't swear in front of a kid...ish. Oh yeah, a conscience."

"What's that?", asked the little freakazoid.

Just then, Jiminy Cricket hopped up on the table and did a little jig. Then he told the boy-freak that a conscience was what helped you figure out right from wrong.

The Blue Ball Fairy, waved his willie at the cricket to make him go away. Bugs fucking creeped him/her out. But the fucker wasn't going anywhere. Then he/she thought of a better idea. He/She told the freak-boy that the cricket was his conscience.

Since there wasn't any cash or anything else worthwhile laying around, the Blue Ball Fairy high-tailed it out of there, looking for another house to break into.

OK fuckers, I'm done for now. I believe that this will be a 3 to 4 part post, which allows me to take a break and gives me a few more blog posts without having to think of anything else.

I hate you all. Well, not the ones that voted for the Christmas story. It's much more interesting than this made up shit.

But seriously? I was reading this story to my little peanut butter the other night and I was giving myself chills thinking of alternative dialogue in my head. Creepy.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Can I Unscrew My Ears?

I would like to remove my ears for a while. Not forever, but just for the next, um....... how long until the day after Thanksgiving?

I called my parents' house last night and my sister Vee was down visiting from North Carolina and she answered the phone. I mistook her question: "how are you doing?" as a reason to launch into an expletive filled diatribe over Christmas Music.

Let me explain.

Or maybe I don't need to explain.

Is it just me or is everyfuckingbody playing Christmas music now? I am the type of person who puts things in places and for me, Christmas music belongs in the very defined area of The Day After Thanksgiving until New Year's Day. Period.

We went to the pumpkin patch, a grand old ass raping by the way, to pick pumpkins last weekend and I was walking through the corn maze with Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer playing a loop through my brain. It was then that I realized that it wasn't the first time I had heard Holiday Music before the denoted Holiday Music time frame. What. The. Fuck?

So now I am much more susceptible to the prevalence of all things Christmassy. The decorations that are already out. The fact that Kohl's already has Christmas Ornaments on sale for half off. The gearing up of the local and national retailers for an all out warfare on consumers this year. And the everlasting fucking music.

But here is a little secret that I want to share with you all. I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!! It took a long time for me to exclaim this fact, loudly and proudly, due to some unfortunate circumstances surrounding the Christmases of my childhood. Ones that I will share with you all in due time. But now that I am an adult with a family of my own, I find the true joy and meaning in the Holidays and the Christmas Spirit. In fact, for the last 10 years or so, I have even refrained from kicking homeless people during the aforementioned Christmas Carol/Holiday season. An outstanding feat of selflessness that should be recognized damn it!

I am a rambling mess in this post, but I hope you all can understand that it comes more from the aggravation of getting present requests this early in the year and the pressure that is building up inside of my head from ignoring the urgent desire to sing an unbridled version of "Walkin' Round in Women's Underwear" than from any of the other multitudes of demands on my life, time and sometimes blood flow.

The cool thing is that I took today off. Not because I wanted to, but because my little Peanut Butter has an ear infection and it made him throw up all over the place this morning on our way out the door. Since daycare tends to frown on parents arriving with children smelling of Amoxicillin vomit, I stayed home with him today. We laid down on the couch and watched the Fantastic Four. He is in love with Jessica Alba. I don't blame him much for that. Now he is napping, dressed up in his Spiderman Halloween customer, with a little smile on that cute face.

So, with or without the Christmas Music pressure, I am one happy, sappy lady today.

Oh and you guys get to choose my next post:

1. An explanation into the ADW version of Christmas and the nightmares surrounding it growing up half-billy style.


2. An insight into the story of Pinocchio. By me. 'Nuff said.

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