What the Hell

Must be Insane

2011-10-10T22:32:00.004-06:00

After reading many of my early post I can only determine I was either insane in the membrane or very very angry. Maybe both. However, some of them were very funny.
Much more funny than I can believe. So all in all I am happy with my blog and I have been able to use some of it for other work. But as I am going to link it with my Twitter account I am going to try to be more interesting, and less vulgar and angry.
Or not.

I might start dating again and get angry or wrathful or I might find true love. I will not find better sex than I am having, ever. And this makes me sad in a way.
Sometimes I curse God for giving me the good sex. Sometime I cry out to him to not take the good sex away.

Sometimes I pray to bring my hound dog Spot home. God answers my dog prayers and my sex prayers and not my lottery prayers.

God has quite the sense of humour.

Much Younger men!!

2011-07-28T00:02:00.006-06:00

Obviously I wrote this when drunk and thought I should take it down..however that is against my policy. I will let it fly:

I have been fucking a man half my age for a year. I was glad when he turned 28 so I didn't feel so creepy. But I do feel creepy so why don't I want to stop? Well!!! That is the best shit ever!!!

Seriously, that is the best dick I have ever had. No woman in their right mind would give that up,ever!

The best dick ever had ruined me for other men. I date because there is nothing much a 55 year old woman can do with a twenty-eight year old. But when it comes right down to the sex.. I look at a man my age and size him up.. Will he give me better cock than my boy? No!!! Jesus Christs. They are rotten in the bed.

Realistically, I can't be with a younger man. He has model girlfriends and shit I can't believe. But for some reason that does not deter me from fucking him.

Thoughts on Vagina

2011-07-17T00:39:00.001-06:00

"they all remind me of chicken, just some are bbq, or baked and others fried and whatever way your can cook and eat of them . I do loves that chicken."

What I like About Men

2011-06-24T23:12:00.002-06:00

Yup, that is how I like to think of men and like to see them in my mind. But that is just me:

Deeper Douchery

2011-06-24T23:07:00.002-06:00

Mormon men think sex is naughty, bad, nasty and nice women do not really like it or they like with just them, because they are so special and endowed with special priesthood powers.

I was kissing a man, a Mormon man, like a french woman and after the kiss. He looked at me and said, “Oh, J.. That is so nasty, just so nasty.”

“What? Why is that?”

“Your tongue moving in and out of my mouth. That was like sex.”

“You kidding me, you don’t french kiss?”

“No, it is so naughty.”

“Naughty is me sticking my tongue up your ass. Kissing is just kissing”

That is a typical Mormon Male reaction. A grown ass man talking like he has had the experience of a 7th grade boy. And thinking about sex like a 7th grader. They are repressed, view sex as something dirty or naughty, and lack experience. They must be bad in bed. I don’t know as I usually get them very angry before we get to bed.

A deeper level of douchery is the Mormon Male’s shame and fear of sex. And as with alcohol they truly believe that is they have great sex they will do anything for it and bring destruction to everyone. They don’t think anyone can drink without being a alcoholic. They don’t think good sex can exist without retribution. The following is an actual quote of Mormon sexual ideals:

As with any appetite or passion, physical desire can be distorted, overindulged, or misused. Spencer W. Kimball observed that, as in all other aspects of marriage, there are virtues to be observed in sexual matters: "There are some people who have said that behind the bedroom doors anything goes. That is not true and the Lord would not condone it" (Kimball, 1982, p. 312). Miracle of Forgiveness.

What the hell? My desire can be distorted and overindulged? What does that even mean?

Higher levels of douchery in Mormon Men: (Deep Douchery)

2011-06-23T19:58:00.005-06:00

It is hard to narrow down the many examples I have of Mormon Male Douchery.
I am a sexually active woman in a predominately Mormon area and since I have been divorced
I have been approached by about 80% Mormon men. It seldom ends well.

They are always looking for sex, but can’t approach it outside of a relationship matrix. So they will go through a mock courtship to trick themselves. I dated a man in January. We went out to dinner several times and after a few dates I agreed one night to sit in his car and talk to him for a few minutes before I went home. We are sitting in the car and he lunges for me and is all over me like I am in junior high.
“What the hell is wrong with you” I ask. “Are those garments you are wearing?” as his shirt had pulled down.
“Yes.”
After an extensive question and answer period I determine he is married. What really bothered me about this man was at least try to trick me by not wearing your garments. If you are going to go try to cheat on your wife with someone why would you wear your “holy underwear.”

Garments are a real turn-off and Mormon Males get so used to having their wives buy them and wear them they don’t even consider what a normal person thinks of temple garments. Thinking you can seduce a women wearing your Mormon longjohns is deep douchery.

http://www.religionfacts.com/mormonism/practices/temple_garment.htm

2011-06-23T09:06:00.002-06:00

I hate Twilight...hate. Yup, I am a hater because I don't like everything and I have opinions!

Wow Mormon Douchery and Men my age

2011-06-23T01:25:00.002-06:00

I am not a big fan of Mormon men and I am constantly having minor scrimmages with them on their home turf of South Eastern Idaho, deep in the Jell-o Belt.

Invariably, I blame myself as the Mormon Douche blames me for the unpleasantness. Then I have to think, would this fly if I was in a French Film? If the answer is yes, then I decide that I am not to blame and it is just another manifestation of Mormon douchery.

I have not been dating as I have been otherwise engaged in what is fondly called grandma shenanigans–translate this into very age inappropriate men. Today I agreed to meet a man my age and I am not that excited about it as there was some signs of douchery from the first. As in he texts me and wanted a photograph to use as an icon for my contact. I do not add people to my contact list unless I have had sex with them. I had sex with a man for two months before I added him and then I only added him because it would confuse me when I got his texts.

This “date” is wearing leather when he meets me, never a good sign of anything but a mid-life. I had seen a picture of him and knew he was fat. Somehow he doesn’t realize he isn’t fit or athletic which is how he describes himself. He might have been 30 years ago, but not presently. Younger men always describe themselves as average, and so it is always fun to see what average looks like. To be honest I have been with a man that has the best body I have ever seen in my life. That is digressive and I could go on about his body for a page or more.

A sure sign of Mormon douchery is the air of male superiority when it comes to physical appearance. They expect the women to shine and mirror their ability to attract a pretty woman, but never think their appearances factors into anything. To lay it out I was not in the least attracted to this man, but was willing to give him a chance.

He walks in, fatter than I expected, dressed in leather and immediately touches me. I do not like being touched unless I open myself up to touching. He sits down and wants to take a picture of me to put in his phone. Why? I should not even be a contact at this point. I do not want pictures of myself floating around. I am put off by this arrogance at thinking that I want my picture in his phone. I tell him no and he gets up and goes to the bathroom. I am a counselor and I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and always withhold judgement so I brush this obvious sign of douchery aside.

He doesn’t introduce himself or say anything nice to me and this is a negative. He asks me about my job and wonders if I have ever been attacked as one of his girlfriend works in mental health and has been.

I am dumbfound and say, “hell, no. My clients know that if they ever yell at me or swear or do anything that I perceive as not being respectful means I won’t work with them anymore. As far as touching me, anyone touches me in a way I do not want to be touched it is an automatic call to 911.”

This is another strike against me as the favorite way for a Mormon male to control women is to verbally degrade them.

He doesn’t like the fact I am drinking wine. Lets be real booze is the lubricant of life. I had been working since 7 and it was 2:30 and I will drink wine if I want. He tells me he is allergic to alcohol. Really? There is a condition called alcohol intolerance, but it is rare and I doubt if he has it. This is the point when I begin to feel the bad vibe and figure it is Mormon. The fact he makes such a point of not drinking tells me it is judgement of his and the main reason he doesn’t drink is to feel superior to those that do imbibe.

I ask about his kids and I lose track on the fourth or fifth and it turns out he has six. At this point I know he is Mormon. And I ask about it. I say so I guess you are Mormon, “I was.” I am picking up this intense douchery at this point and I am reacting to it by being vulgar. I am used to men that treat women as equal and do not require me to be sweet and submissive. Plus I am used to being with a man I play fun games with about submission and dominance not someone that assumes dominance because of some belief of Mormon male entitlement. I realize I am reacting to his judgments and his silent but obvious disapproval by getting confused, feeling rejected and then ultimately that only emotion I can always count on, anger.

As a postscript–His sexual fantasy was light bondage and I just am not into that. I do not need to be tied down as a way to get permission to let go. And if a man needs to pretend to dominant his partner in that way to get excited, well that is just sad.

Why Brittany Spears is a Whore

2011-06-10T23:44:00.005-06:00

Whore is a strong word. Most women take offense at it. I do not. I do not like cunt and once set my ex husband on fire for calling me a fat cunt. I told him to stop or I would light him up, but he just kept on talking. Got what he needed.

What makes Brittany Spears a whore? Well, it is that I will do anything for money or men or attention. Just anything. Flash her shaved diseased cooter, put on a pink wig,lose weight, get pregnant, whatever it takes the whore will do it. That is in essence what makes a woman a whore. It is not about sex, it is not about the number of men a women fucks. It is about what she is willing to do.

End of the World

2011-06-09T09:31:00.010-06:00

The world is going to end. I want the world to end by having a huge yule log hit the planet. However, on a serious note since the world is going to end in 2012, I don't see a reason to put out much effort in the next 6 months. Sure I will drink more and try to have more sex, but those are not really life enhancing goals. That is just escapism. The feel with people is that this world does not matter. I know that people and society are really pushing to make life feel urgent and necessary, but it is just not working. Our major invention is Facebook and Twitter, both which make blogging look like high literature.

Twittering just does not produce good literature. It has turned everything into a burst of silliness. How clever can anyone be in 140 twits. About 90% of the people I have contact with are just bored and in a holding pattern. When asked about plans they babble about this and that, but nothing that makes me think they are serious. I am not sure when this attitude changed, but I believe it was with George Bush,Jr.

I will predict a lot more monkey romping.

Just for Fun

2011-06-07T21:56:00.000-06:00

From Chapter One

2011-06-07T21:52:00.003-06:00

On the other hand, I prayed to have a partner, a sexual partner, and he is what God brought me. I am not one to kick against fate. It is not just that he is pretty and young. I have had young pretty men all my life. And I can judge the course of sex and attraction. It is not a big surprise to me and hold my emotions pretty tight. For all his prettiness, I do not think of his looks or his body, which looks so much better naked than in clothes. That is not what draws me to him. It is not even his amazingly pretty penis as I have seen a lot of pretty penises. I don’t think anyone could have had a more pretty penis than my ex-boyfriend Ray, although my ex husband suffered in that area.
As the weeks have moved to months and the months approach a year, I realize that is not an uncomplicated affair. There is gossip, disapproving friends, his girlfriend, a twitter account, my married boyfriend, misunderstandings and silence, my broke down health, natural instincts we avoid and questions we do not ask.
With increasing energy we strive not to know, to keep things inside the game. The same phrases are used, the same responses, as the original excitement is rekindled and a frantic energy takes over that I am helpless to withstand. My feelings of need and want are too strong to be contradicted by rational thoughts. The text, the pulling back, and jumping forward is the foreplay. The need to touch him hurts and by the time I see him I can hardly breathe. The feeling is so far from love that it is as if I never even knew that word.
There is no tenderness between us, such as, I have experienced with other younger men. Even the randiest young man will succumb to my maternal energy and want to lay still on or next to me and submit to being stroked. That is at the heart of the attraction between a young man and an older woman. I have been with one man over the age of fifty.
The first man I had sex with after I divorced was 32. That was the strangest feeling to be naked with someone new after so many years and to have someone new inside me. I was 48 and he looked like Brad Pitt. I upped my standards after that and it gave me the energy to cut all ties with my ex who was making pathetic noises about getting together. Wayne and I went to Jackpot together and during the trip I could not stand one more comment about my body and I looked at him and said
“I am fucking someone now. He is 32 and I like it.”
“Bullshit, you’re lying.”
“No, I am not lying.” However, I said it he believed me. We spent a horrendous two days together with him telling me about his new girlfriend, but we both knew he had done nothing more than settle for the first woman that would tolerate him. Men have a fatal flaw of thinking that a woman’s only option is them. My ex could not understand that not all men wanted a women that weighed 105 pounds with flat chest that looked like a boy undressed. He didn’t understand while he couldn’t talk younger women into bed, that younger men were willing to talk me into bed.
By the time I am sitting in my Kia that was costing me a small fortune as I had bad credit, the thrill of younger men had worn off a long time ago.

What I am Doing Instead of Writing

2011-06-07T12:39:00.004-06:00

Funny stuff I found and proof Jake is Gay

Comment on Ellen Barkin

2011-06-06T19:25:00.006-06:00

I had to think of my post yesterday as I began to wonder if I had forced myself on this man.

I do not think I did. He seemed pretty into it and I would have thought he had an orgasm, except for the lack of evidence. However, he might have had retrograde ejaculation. Choking him might not have been well thought out, but he seemed aroused by it. Plus he was a good sized man and I am not big. He didn't have to let me choke him or hold him down.

As to Barkin, that just makes me feel happy. People in general make an older woman feel ashamed of liking younger men. It is my theory that society is reacting to the fact that it is a sexually based relationship and older women should not like sex. Good for Ellen for having a young boyfriend, for helping with his career, and generally doing good work.

Then he Faked it and Ellen Barkin, I understand,

2011-06-03T18:31:00.006-06:00

I like to go out and have mis-adventures. I do.
This usually includes me drinking too much, me engaging in
some sort of sexual escapade and of course, me talking too much.
It is what I like to do. Some people like to ski
fish, hike. I like drinking, sex, and conversation. I am not really the type of woman that people look at and think I am full of hi-jinks. I am very
conservative looking and older.

Lately, and I am not sure what has changed. I can not go out without being hit
on by some guy. It is baffling to me. It is not because I have become the best looking woman on the planet, in fact, some of that stuff scares me when I see it in the mirror. When I lasted posted I described the ED situation and that was really a first for me and validated all my negative thoughts about older men.

Maybe this is true of women also, but after a point men all sound the same. They complain about the same stuff, have the same emotional reactions. How many times do I have to hear that I have great tits. Is this something I do not know? Really, you love pussy? You and every other straight guy. These are the things that make me "bitter"

It seems that men and sex should be more surprising and interesting, but perhaps it is just because I am old and had some experience with men. I still will feign interest. A man my age took me out for a dirty martini the other day. He did make me laugh, but mostly I laughed because he said ridiculous stuff. To be honest I was just killing time, waiting to meet up with another man.

Anyway, I ended up giving him a blow job. I am not sure how this came about sometimes I will just go with it. I have no real explanation as to why I did this other than it was interesting and amusing to me.

He asked, begged, me to tell him his penis was nice looking. He kept saying that:
It is nice isn't it?
Tell me it is nice.

I am contrary. If you ask me to do something I won't do it, just because you asked me. That is my bad nature. Also I refuse to give out penis compliments unless they are truly merited.

How it turns out is that he fakes an orgasm, like I can't tell the difference? Who the hell does that? I refuse to. When I wrote this I thought maybe he faked it so I would stop touching him. I am pretty sure that was not the case as he asked me out and got beggy about seeing me again. Old men are complicated so are young men, but young men perform a lot better.

That is the bottom line. Young men, perform better in bed. My body has not improved with age, but my sexual performance has and it is nice to be with someone that can match that ability. Men my own age can't. In an unfortunate incident I gave my married boyfriend a heart attack. I warned him and he just didn't listen. I am sure he would have had a heart attack anyway, but obviously he was not healthy enough for sexual activity.

I will admit that I went celibate for ten months and when I did have sex it was like being a virgin again. But everything was in good working condition and it was earth shattering for me. Of course, the man was also half my age. I get Ellen Barkin and Sam Levinson. Yeah I will stop when you wheel me out. I have been saying for months, yea it will stop when I break a hip.

That young stuff is the best.

Old Men and ED

2011-05-26T22:44:00.005-06:00

I have had some bad adventures in my life, but none as scarring as the one I had last night. Never had I been more grossed out by the male autonomy and behavior. I never knew a penis could look that way or be that totally lifeless. Lord, it pained me. It was disgusting.

I love the penis. I always have. And I find them attractive and lively. Most of the ones I come in contact with are primed and ready to go and I do not need to do a lot of work to get them in shape and if I do it is only remedial work, such as exclaiming oh! or breathing on it. In fact, the only three I have had trouble with fall into the following categories:

A) Gay

B) Physically unwell or near dead

C) Mentally unwell or a terminal asshole–see pervious posts on Jesson Coworth

I am 54 and in my years of sexual activity which span 38 1/2 years I have only encountered 2 penises that would not come to life for me. Unfortunately Jesson Coworth’s was not one of them I just didn’t want to progress with that nonsense. The other one was gay. I looked at it and him and he said something about not being ready and I just laughed. He was gay and either didn’t know it or liked to pretend otherwise, but gay. So I was not insulted as I did not have one bit of sexual energy for this guy, not one bit. There was nothing to play off of. I would have had more luck with my Boise hair dresser than that closeted gay. Plus the penis did have some life to it as it stood up for his friend’s nightly phone call and weird slasher films. He smelled funny to me so that was not traumatic for me. I was married for 25 years and then with the same man for 4 and so I know that on occasion the penis needs a little prompt. The shine wears off.

Over all, most of my time has been spent with men named Jason, or Sean, or Nathan or Logan or Zak, obviously men not in my peer group. Their penises need damn little encouragement. They are just ready.. I like that.

In my burned out emotional state last night, I went out and then lost my mind a tiny bit and let a fellow who was 69 come on to me. I have never actually been with a man over the age of 50, ever. I have never been with a man older than me.

It was worse then I thought. I don’t have much going for me, but what I do have is an excess of sexual energy. That is the driving force of life and I have that. I survive and I still have that urge to be with someone, sexually.

I guess some people lose that. He was all talk about how he wanted to do this and that, but when it came to doing anything, it was just dead, without life. I didn’t know a penis could get that small. Sure I tried to pretend I understood, but I didn’t. Everyday Cialis, dude! My god, I would not put myself up to ridicule like that. I am not talking a little sad, I am talking completely lifeless, without any response, nothing!! It was bad.

2011-05-14T19:30:00.005-06:00

I found this on the Internet and thought I should blog about it. That is a dream come true.

I am just so taken by the whole idea I do not have much to add.

For whatever reason sometimes a phrase just strikes me right and this is one of those times.

I like the misspelling and the bad handwriting and the precise wording--not that, but who.

It is a very tender thought being expressed and who doesn't love honesty?

What the Hell--Banned from AdSense

2011-04-01T07:19:00.005-06:00

I try, but I am obviously an offensive woman and do not care that much if I continue my crazy ways. It is April 1and joke is I am alive. Could have just as easily been dead.

Google deemed my writing too "adult" for ad sense. That is censorship isn't it? Fuck Google. That just makes me want to blog and be crude all the time. I am offended that I have to watch ads on youtube and for a week those jackasses tried to make me watch Atomic Tom--which is the worst sorta of nostalgic crap--ever!!! I hated that video with its desperate attempt to be cool.

Fuck you Google and the post that they didn't like was As promises Cock Sucking 101. I re-read it and I stand by it. It is good advice. If men followed it they would get a lot more oral pleasure and their partner would be a lot happier. And no I don't hate it. I am a cougar, I have to have mad oral skills.

Kings of Leon and an Orginal Groupie

2011-03-29T08:57:00.007-06:00

I love music and even musicians. However, I do not have any overpowering urge to hook up with them. I find bands playing in bars a little sad and weird. They are either stuck living out an unworkable dream or they are moving up and there for just a short time. It doesn't seem to matter to the woman. There are always women hanging around, and I do not understand the allure. I will lust all I want over lead singers like Caleb Followill and when I am alone I will watch their videos on youtube and think their sex is most definitely on fire. That is fantasy and the reality is that being with them is sort of gross, in a bad way not a good way. They travel around and women beg to have sex and even threesomes. They don't have to work for anything. It is like the Dire Straits song Money for Nothing and the chicks are free.

This came up as we discussed the new Kings of Leon CD, which is much better than the media has reported. But it came to me that a large number of their songs are about having groupie sex. Then the strange part is that I know one of the original groupies. How small is the world when this stuff happens.

Perhaps in the early days Kings of Leon built a fan base by having sex. It is a pretty effective tool. You have sex with one woman and she spreads the good word and you have her friends as fans and if you have a four man band you can take on about 8 women a night. That is about 3000 people a month and if you factor in roadies and random. Sure there has to be some talent to back it up, but it seems when it comes to good bands that the sexual exploits do count for something.

I am thinking about this because of the odd Kings of Leon connection and how we all became fans of the band several years back because an original groupie told my son how great they were and then we listened to them. That is weird, isn't it?

Plus the new kings of Leon video for Pyro, looks like my hometown of Blackfoot, Idaho and the Bali Hai bar, where someone got shot and killed a couple of years ago. And the guy that runs the Karaoke is on oxygen and the waitress weighs at least 400 pounds.

Dave Matthews Band - Satellite

2011-03-26T21:33:00.000-06:00

Recipe For Organic Cocktails

2011-03-25T12:53:00.008-06:00

Well, there is facebook where I can cyber-stalk to my hearts content and skype, and I found the Kings of Leon so some has changed since I have been an active blogger. Jesson Coworth remains my number one search. Bad dating is always popular. My relationship went nowhere. I suppose 5 years with the same person isn't nowhere. It could have ended better without my son elbowing him in the head.

All's well that ends.

I was deathly sick for a while and now think the world has changed. The changes I have noted:

1-Liking Lady Ga Ga doesn't make you cool.
2-Taylor Swift sounds like a wounded bird when she sings.
3-Dance music sucks.
4-Being a cougar isn't as much fun now everyone is doing it.
5-When you have website to stalk young cubs it takes most of the fun out of it.
6-High waisted jeans are a trend that should not be revisited-ever.
7-Facebook is beginning to suck and youtube is forcing me to watch Atomic Tom and I hate that video.
8-I have remained remarkably good looking and my body has improved.
9-My grandson is in puberty and I have a new grandson
10-Square One makes a cucumber infused vodka that is like God's jizz. I can't believe I just wrote that and you know I am going to leave it even though it is disgusting.

How to properly use Cucumber Infused Vodka

Do not be using this vodka for random drunks with no purpose. Have a clear goal in mind.
1-drunken texting, always a good stand-by
2-some facebook stalking. How many friends did he add over that weekend. This is best accomplished if you set up a fake facebook persona.
3-write an email to your sex and tell him why you are still happy to be his ex and add a few details of your current sex life, and don't skimp on the vodka. Have that third drink and send it.
4-Write poetry about the beauty of drinking

Recipe for a Lemon Cucumber Cocktail
-One to two shots of Square One Organic Cucumber Infused Vodka
-a tall clean glass filled with rugged chunks of new ice
-Pour vodka over ice and inhale
-Add Paul Newman's Organic Lemonade to taste
-slice up organic cucumbers and add three to four slices to the drink
-Play Kings of Leon Pony up add Four Kicks.

Then carry out your plan:

My Poetry:

I once grew cucumbers with Ray.

I have grown used to the sex. The shy
rushed urgency of our needs perhaps
because if we pause or talk that will
break things
and I have missed you. Since there is
no reason to ever see each other
outside of desire, I take sips of
cucumber infused vodka

For Islandheart

2009-04-30T10:10:00.003-06:00

First, let me congratulate you on your search for companionship or love or even true love! It is a worthy cause. Also since there is no accounting for taste, you might really hit it off with this man.

My experience:

I also met Jesson Coworth online. We met at a downtown coffee shop in Boise. It was pleasant enough. He wore shorts and sandals and some strange floral shirt. I remember he didn't smell very good, sort of that old bitter scent some men take on as they age. I believe I wore a skirt and some sort of shell and sandals. It is very hot in Boise in the summer. We spent about 2 hours together and had a pleasant conversation, mostly him bragging about how wonderful he was, but he seemed intelligent enough and fair looking. I am not a great looking woman, but I have always dated really good looking men--always.

We set up a second date for July 4th. Things went very badly. I said something and it set him off. He attacked my age, my looks, education, my background--everything and anything he could think up. Typical of any narrasistic man, he then launched into a lecture of how wonderful he was. How great he looked for his age, which he had lied about. His profile said he was 52 and he was in fact 57 and looked it. He also posed for me to show off his sagging biceps and loose skin. Not that I don't have them both, but I don't brag about them or pretend I am six years younger than I am. When I met him I knew he was older, but I was just too polite to mention it on the first date. That is rude. He went on about how well educated he was, of course I am sitting on four degrees and this does not impress me at all. And how well traveled he is,,,so am I.

He said every mean things to me that was sexist, and degrading. It was a full out verbal assault. It ended with me looking directly at him and telling him to leave before I called the police. Later I sent him a scathing letter.

And as post note, he was living with someone, but she was old and dried up and he liked a woman that got really wet and sloppy.

He was a strange mixture of intelligence, anger and vulgarity. On the up side I put on a blue corset and fishnets and called up a friend and had a wonderful fourth of July. And Jesson I suppose went home to his dried up girlfriend that no longer wanted sex, but he didn't want to leave as it was financially beneficial to him.

I can write this because it is true, I am not making up libelous statements or even adding to what happened.

Back on Like Donkey Kong

2009-03-01T22:30:00.008-07:00

Well, I am back. Burnt out, feed up and still amazingly pissed off at the world and my ex. I was going to make a run at being normal and whatever, but I don't think I will. I hasn't worked over the last several years so why bother. Let the weirdness roll on out.

I am still going to try to keep this alive as my rant site, but that is about all. Don't look for any literary marvel here.

Lets give it all a little run down:

Still dysfunctional with my kids --yes

Still hate my ex--yes

Still single--yes, the curse of being a middle-aged bitter bitch.

Still good looking and sexy--yes and my legs are even better. The killer calves amazed even me in my fishnets today.

Still appalled at the general bad taste the world shows--yes

Here are my search engine words--Obama, Herschel Walker (WTF, I am so old I remember this sweet hunk of chocolate) Andrew Dice Clay (didn't know they made pigs with only two legs) Melissa River (She was made by two people bumping ugly)

Do not know who the heifer in the picture is, but she liked that picture well enough to post it online so why can't I???

Let's be honest! It is not a good idea to litter the Internet with pictures of yourself.

Al Green

2008-10-28T19:35:00.003-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vg4dnFx6JW0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Knw4wsp-NF8&feature=related

I think what is wrong with the world is that too few people can sing like Al Green. I just love this guy,,,,,,,,I dig the bad clothes, crazy Afro, but his voice is like an angel, realy like an angel. If you don't like Al Green you just don't know good music.

Freaky Internet Troll

2008-10-19T18:39:00.005-06:00

OK, I have to admit it. The freaky Internet troll got to me, what a freak. However I was snapped back into reality by Denise' s awesome cruse of Holy Titty-Fucking Christ--wow, I can not say enough for that cruse it is horrible in every way, horrible. My word.

So my life has it weird spots, the men are annoying me right now, have ones I don't want, want ones I don't have. Yet I can always comfort myself with the knowledge I never invite the sort of all around weirdness my son does. I am not even sure how he does it. I suspect if he put forth as much energy into getting rich or famous or something as he does into his weirdness something good would happen.

Recently, six weeks ago, he took this woman to lunch that he knew in college and during lunch she drops this on him, "I think you might be the father of my oldest child" What the hell? Plus that was fifteen year ago. She couldn't bring it up before lunch after 15 years? Then she becomes obsessed with him and cries that he isn't putting enough into their relationship. What is she sick or something. There is no relationship. The test results come back yesterday and he is not the father.

We went to a concert together and a table of old snaggled tooth cougars were circling him. It was embarrassing. I had to speak to them, "Yes, I understand he is an handsome man, but this group is way out of his age range." I guess weirdness is pretty entertaining. I am looking for a new job as I hate my pock-marked lying ex-Mormon bishop boss. Really hate him. I hate people that will lie right to you and act like you should believe them even when you know it is a balls to the wall lie.

Those are my kids, the one in the green shirt is the weirdest of them all, but they all run pretty weird.

Hot Guy--Jason Michael Carroll

2008-09-29T21:23:00.007-06:00

Really after about one or two years men just turn into douche bags and start talking about shit you could care less about. Then it is just pretending to like them for ten minutes or so to get your goods.

I am bitter,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,bad bitter,,,,,,,,,,,, And some is my fault for liking emotionally unavailable men and sometimes men that are unavailable for other reasons, married, gay, whatever will hurt the most and drive me the most insane. Plus, ideally I like to have sex about 4 or 5 times a week so I tend to burn men out. What can I say that is how I am.

Anyway, I then sometimes see some hot guy that makes me remember why I love dick.

Jason Michael Carroll is cheesy and I know it and countrified, but damn he is hot. I about came unglued when he stepped on stage. He was hurting my eyes being so pretty. He lifted his t-shirt and I felt funny inside.

So here is to you Jason Michael Carroll you rocked my cooter in Blackfoot, Idaho

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ec9ahvOrt4&feature=user

Waiting for a Call

2008-09-28T21:16:00.005-06:00

Some asshole left this comment. I am probably the worst person to leave comments such as this one.

Comment by asshole:

Oh come on... concerts...strippers...yeah right. You're probably sitting at home wondering, "Now why doesn't anyone call?" Red velvet cake -- BOORING. What's up with watchin' strippers anyway? You lesbian?

I am home about one night a week.

My week goes like this.

Monday: drink gin with the owner of the local bar

Tuesday: go on my Harley ride

Wednesday: Wine tasting either at Idaho Falls or Pocatello

Thursday: Wine Tasting at the Grapevine and music later

Friday: Movies or date

Saturday: I sometimes stay home or date

Sunday: I am sometimes home

Concerts in the last month

Gary Allan http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XX9awjX_zo

Joe Nicholshttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqv-2emERFw

Jason Michael Carrollhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J43h4ue2M9s

Montgomery Gentryhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVvgMEs9qeM

Plus various local people

October 18th Taj Maha lhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVvgMEs9qeM

Thanksgiving: Tom Jones

Obviously you are the type of asshole that knows almost nothing and have never had Red Velvet Cake or you would not say such stupid things.

Also you spelled boring wrong.

I love the love bikini bar and go there to have cheap drinks and relax.

I never wait for calls--fuck that

added thought-not a lesbian, never had a lesbian experience, but considering what douche bags men are I am now giving it serious thought.

Wow, some people

2008-08-25T22:26:00.002-06:00

Just don't know what to say about that other than dude that ain't cool!

Visiting my folks, an old boyfriend and Blackfoot is weird

2008-08-10T15:13:00.006-06:00

Hi all, I am first proud of saving any women from Jesson. To be honest he is smart, but totally self absorbed, and lies about his age. Men can roll around and get all the divorced middle age women they want until their late 50's and then guess what? No one wants them including women their own age. You start weighing it out

Old dude dependant on Viagra with health issues?

Time by myself to do what ever the hell I like?

Doing whatever the hell you want begins to win out.

Thursday I am outside trying to organize wine drinking and some handsome guy on a brand new huge ass Harley pulls up. I went wow that is odd.

So it is an old boyfriend that is stalking me in a friendly manner and he wants to know if

I want to go for a ride with him.

Of course I do. I am hot for going for ride. We ride along the Snake river, blanketed by mown hay fields on one side and willows ands cotton woods on the other and the river rolling slow. It was beautiful and smelled like Paradise.

Then he talked to me about how much he loves me and how he had always loved me and thought I was a wonderful person and how he knew I had really struggled to get my life back together. It was good to hear someone voice what I know and feel about myself

Now for the kicker--he did not want to sleep with me and did not make any cheesy moves. How lovely is that and he did not want my phone number or anything. We just like talking together. Whenever I see this man I just feel warm and happy.

The bike. Love that and know why people want them. They are fun and cool and fun.

The cross dressing. I dated a cross dresser, but it sort of made sense since he was a tiny fellow. His fantasy was to put on a 50's style nylon slip, garter belt with hose, a cotton floral house dress and pumps and make love to me. Needless to say this did not happen.

What he really wanted was to have some Mormon garments, I just know it. The creep factor was to high even from me. There are men that are very turned on by wearing women's clothes as an act of humiliation and also they have strongly imprinted sexual memories of their mothers or sisters and usually their dad was fairly harsh. In fact many men enjoy SST. I heard the term on Law and Order CI. SST is short for Sissy Slut Training. However, I still do not want to marry or date theses freak. A line has to be drawn someplace and I draw it at SST, bad manners, genital warts and men who come on to my sons.

Some fool in Blackfoot is living out Waiting for Guffman. He is queer as queer can get, but his shame is deep and he has been married about 4 times and makes sure everyone knows he has a girlfriend although I have never seen them touch. This not so cleverly disguised gay man creeps me out. I could not watch it another week-end and went to see my parents,,,the nearly dead. That is another blog, the oldness, the craziness, the eating. The picture of me as a girl. My mother dressed me funny. I have picture of me in a plaid wool dress coat, a straw hat, flowery pants and stripped socks. YIKES!!!

I am in the midst of a major change in my life. I am not sure what it will be. It will just be major.

Thanks for all the comments. I am so inspired by the feedback. I even showed my brother my blog, but he was appalled. He blogs on children's fiction and education. Oh well, I am going to do my PhD work and I am working 12 hours tomorrow. Going to the grave site of a client's mother. I predict weirdness all around.

Really What the Hell!!!

2008-08-02T18:34:00.007-06:00

So lately, I have had a few comments about my blog, which I have not written for almost a year. (Notes on images: Just like shoes and the other is warts, must read blog)

UPDATE: Nothing much. Same job, same crazies, got a MS in psychology and I am working on a phd. Still struggle with mild depression, still have the dogs plus a new one. I am going to be a grandmother again next month. I have a son in Iraq,,,still. Same boyfriend. The garden is great, and I have drank a lot of wine over the last year. I have it worked so I can do wine tastings three days a week. I actually go to learn something,, which is unusual and have developed a pretty good idea of what is good wine and what is bad wine.

Now to the comments:

I often wonder why I'm still pissed off at the fucking loser (2nd husband) I divorced over a yr ago. I don't love him. Not sure I ever did. But he turned out to be a piece of shit cheating liar - a ret. Marine Lt Col, mr integrity, honesty, the few the proud blah blah blah. The reality is he is a narcissist AND much to my surprise, a fucking cross dresser. Weird asshole with more fetishes than you can imagine. So I read this post and the craziness of it and thought about all the times the Marine bastard tried to make me feel like I was the crazy one. fuck them all. damn few 'normal' men in the world really. i'm almost over my anger (mostly at myself for being taken by this loser) and given you posted this in 2005, i figure you are too.

*My advice is to let it go, but knowing how impossible that is to do, I would write a book about his cross dressing and other weird stuff. And if you have pictures send them to me, I love a good laugh.

did you write a blog on the date from hell, Jesson? would love to hear about that date. i love reading your blog - so damn funny but then i have 3 ex's and attract bastards so maybe i identify

LAST BAD DATE:

Someone read about my bad date with Jesson. I have to say that was a hideous date. Everything that was possibly wrong with a date was wrong with this man, including him wearing shorts sop short that he displayed a genital wart. It took place on the Fourth of July and has given me PTSD. I am a raging lunatic on the Fourth now. If I don't have date to end all dates I am out of my mind.

In truth the date with Jesson ended with me calling another man and him coming over and giving me great loving. However, bad man vibes are difficult to eliminate from your system. It takes more than a good date with one guy to get over that trauma. He said everything I have ever thought about myself on the very worst of days. The man had the negative full blown hate of women that was strong and evil. Hate this guy. And speaking of men I hate:

MY EX:

Is still a dirty deadbeat cocksucker, which is making my life still hellish after five years. He will not pay off his IRS debt of 48,000 or the judgment I have against him for 22,000 or the money he owes my aged uncle, my aged friends the Kobe's and many other people he "borrowed" money from. He is a total cocksucker. I recieved anotice yesterday that my 2,500.012 dollar refund was applied to the IRS debt. Can we all say cocksucker?

MY DOGS: The dogs are crazy. Spot has not been shot, which I suppose is a good thing. He still runs away and does insane hound things and has a little hound buddy named Babe the Blue Dog, who flunked yes flunked obedience training. So did my friend's dog and her dog got in a fight.

KIDS: ?

MONEY: Think good money thoughts for me. Lottery win, lottery win, lottery win!!!

Weding Update: Let's Get it On

2007-09-05T20:52:00.001-06:00

Wedding are about love and love making. To celebrate love in all its glory watch these videos from youtube: I am speechless at the wonder of love!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TV6wIeMS9kY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jw3UWtBH-PE&mode=related&search=

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSW9kWIRCOQ&mode=related&search=

Not sure about this

2007-09-02T17:36:00.000-06:00

Can not understand why anyone would choose to look like this? Any ideas on it?

Not Wedding: Scott Weiland

2007-08-29T22:49:00.000-06:00

Velvet Revolver rocks yet the other Guns N' Roses with Alex Rose does not. I believe it is Scott Weiland. I am glad he didn't kill himself. My school director at Bennington killed himself recently, so suicide has been on my mind a lot and stirring up a lot if bitterness about me ex, who left me to die.

He wanted to be with his new girlfriend so she could pee on him. Him getting peed on was more important than my life. I was lucky that a woman going to the airport early in the morning had a cell phone and called the ambulance or I would have been dead. Sheer luck My kids soften the impact of this event by stating I was looking for attention and it was a suicide attempt. No, it was a failed suicide. I would have and should have been dead, fucking dead if this woman had not seen me go off the road. Some people think I am bitter about small things or irrelevant things, but that is not so with my EX. He knew where I was and he rather that I was dead and he acted on that. I can never forgive that and I never will. I can't forgive him for being so selfish that his fucked up sexual ego needs came before my life. That getting peed on was more important than me being alive. That he weighed things out that night and choose to get pissed on rather than get me to the hospital. It is not like he is a warm sexual person. He is a pig in bed and out of it.

I can't write anymore about that right now. With the wedding and the death of my professor it has been on my mind. It was my oldest son that first voiced this thought and it is why he can't forgive his dad and why my mother can not. My mother is not so great, but she does love me and she knew that my EX failed to act to preserve my life. I can not wrap my mind around his selfish loathsome behaviour. I can't. I can hardly admit it. wow,,,, that was weird

Wedding News: My up coming wedding

2007-08-29T22:17:00.000-06:00

I have chosen to get married to Gary Allan. I think this will work for me. I like his skinny ass and his music and the tattos are a plus. Yeah he is wounded anad everything , but I am good with it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hwwbt1ohta4&mode=related&search=

WEDDING UPDATE--Bring it On like Donky Kong

2007-08-29T20:25:00.001-06:00

I am not totally sure, but I am pretty sure my ex will manage to be total tool at the wedding. To protect me from his ultimate tooldom, my best girlfriends are going to the wedding, besides it will be a great gathering. I plan to have a great time and I have it planned out and the whole bit.

My ex will be doing some sketchy thing to get there and camping out or something. I am staying for a week and plan to go to the cheetah lounge where the most beautiful women in the south perform nude. Got to love that! Layla

Wedding Disfunction: Watersports & Britney's Cooter

2007-08-27T22:11:00.000-06:00

The ex is a fucking tool as we all know by now. I should not say fuck as much as I do. Put it this way:

If Wayne was a hammer

he'd hammer in the morning

he'd hammer it all day long.

If Wayne was a hammer.

So in my best stressed out wedding day deamenaor I decide to email the ex. I say:

I m writing in regards to the wedding. I want this to be as nice as possible for John and Christy. I can be polite to the two of you, but that is all. Other than a brief hello, I would appreciate being left alone. I do not want to be talked to by either of you.

Thanks in advance,
J J

EX writes

*Piss off

I write back very funny for a guy that loves watersports!

Damn I am funny which of course means I am not as no one should think they are funny

Britney's cooter has nothing to do with post, but I love that roughed up pussy!

Until Further Notice all Blogs are Wedding Related: Love indain Food Hate Fucking Indians

2007-08-26T21:26:00.001-06:00

I love Indian food, but I hate those fucking Indian call centers. I hate their bad fucking English I hate their communication style that revolves around regurgitated company lines they do not understand.

I know they do not understand English because when you try to explain complex problems they can't not form a direct response. I even break it down, yet they are confused.

If you try to talk to them and explain things you get the same answer for any problem. Then they just talk away in their monotone voice driving you to hung up!

Talked to them yesterday about plane ticket to the wedding. This was a nightmare and I was unsatisfied about the deal, but I am stuck--dirty Indian fuckers.

Wedding Plane tickets have been purchased. HOORAY!!!

Camping with Crazies

2007-08-12T08:10:00.000-06:00

WOW--five days and four nights in the Grand Tetons with 50 crazy people. Damn did I have a good time? Turns out I was the most competent person there. How sad is that may I add. My co-worker Pat said the whole thing looked like a monkey trying to fuck a football. Pat is a A number 1 curse master. A lot of truth in that statement.

I went up early and put up 20 tents with the help of crazy people, got things organized, cooked, hiked, did the hard labor, and was able to sleep in R's RV--thank goodness I had a place to retreat to. Just love that man.

I lead a raft trip, I hiked, I went to Old Faithful, I bought ice cream for people, I was an all around hero like person. The amazing thing is that I am calming to most people and there was little if no drama. I have no secret to this. I am just real with people. I told one man after a morning of high drama that he should stop behaving like a little bitch. He was offended for a while and then after a time said, he was sorry for being a little bitch.

It is a strange thing that the clients I have are so fond of me. "Jill, you must come for me." "Jill we want to ride home with you." I like my work. I wish it paid more as I will have to find something more around 100,000 a year than 50,000 put so far so good.

I was glad to be home. The first thing I do at home is go out on the desert and hunt elk with R and his son.

My son stayed at my house and took care of the place and burned and drank beer. The fire department was called. He likes to burn stuff and burn he did. Boots have nothing to do with this. Just like them a lot, D!

Inside Joke

2007-08-02T21:10:00.000-06:00

Another night of fun. After the head dropping incident, my son and I went out with R and it was all good. It was mentioned that perhaps head dropping was my new standard for hotness, and I think it might be as I had not been that weirdly excited in a long time. Note weirdly!
I think I just admire anyone willing to try tp pick me up. My ex who could bench 300 lbs never picked me up once in our 25 year marriage or even tossed me around in bed.
He was so delicate.

The night with R was fine, no crazy anything just a very good time.

While R was elk hunting with his son, I took my son to Idaho Falls. We run into a friend. Lisa and my son talk about Spandex Steve. See picture. Need I write more on this topic. They discussed this guy for nigh 15 minutes.

Afterwards we wander around in the crowd and I see the worst date ever, even worse than the old guy. This idiot asked me why I thought his wife left him and I actually said, "Because you are an asshole." I might post on this as his long haird friend as he still dates my friend, Glenda. The long-haired cowboy has ED from emotional issues, really!

"That is the worst date ever guy."

"He is so ugly what were you thinking"

"It was a blind date as in my friend must have thought I was blind."

I add, "He just sold his farm for a million dollars, but that doesn’t make him one penny more attractive."

The over-aged farm hands followed me. My son acts like we are on date, which was creepy but also funny. We both acknowledged the creep factor. We returned to the wine bar and sat with some girls we had talked to earlier. Both of these young ladies were great potential wife material. One was a nurse while the other young woman was a pharmacist. The cow hands sat next to us and gave my son the dirty eye. We told the girls what was happening and they thought it hilarious.

I walked by the worst date ever and his extremely creepzilla friend.

"Does he know how mean you are?"

"Oh yes, he does. I kicked him down the stairs once." *see post

The inside family joke made me giggle. (see May posts on kids)

Reason's why I stay home

2007-07-21T03:35:00.000-06:00

Well , another night of crazy dysfunction. There are good fucking reasons why I stay home. I am 51 and I can only stand so many blows to my heart and head. And arms and head and shoulder and knee. My son and I went to the Portnuef pub which is a nice place and he drank a pitcher of beer plus 4 glasses. I had one half of a glass of beer. So it is early and we want to go to the movie, but are too late. We end up at Sandbaggers. They are having a 10th anniversary party and and there are 500 people there. Which is fine. My estranged daughter is there and her boyfriend's mother. I restrain myself from asking how the mother how it feels to have given birth to the biggest loser on the planet.

So I dance and dance and dance some more. I do not drink...they play some songs that I have good moves to like Mustang Sally, and Werewolves of London. So I dance.

Then there is a break and I am walking away and some man runs by and grabs me and shoves me to the ground. All hell break loose. A brawl ensues. My son is smacking people around; the guy's shirt is pulled off his body. The police are called and I am wandering aimlessly. I file a police complaint and I go back to the party with my son.

At this point a man takes my arm and asks how I am feeling. I tell him him my wrist hurts, but is not broken and he massages down my arm. I find this odd, but I am so upset that I just let him do it. At some point, I finally look over at him when he stops and say:

"Would you do that again, I like it." We make eye contact for the first time and I am hit full force with that love at first sight thing. Then I can't let him go. We are all over each other in this innocent weird way. I am touching his face and looking at him. We dance and at some point he wants to lift me up around his waist and I tell him, "No, it is a bad idea. I am heavier than I look" He picks me up and drops me on my head. Crack my head hits the asphalt.

This does not deter me at all. If anything I become more determined and really want him. I am telling a friend about this and she asks, "Did dropping you on your head make you horny?"

I suppose it did. As it turns out he is married so then it was just a matter of tormenting each other.

Cissy or why jerking off your son is not a sign of motherly love

2007-07-18T22:31:00.000-06:00

Cissy Yost is not fucked up because she jerked off her son. Jerking off her son is the ultimate life destroying act a person who is completely fucked up and rage filled does to another to share the gift of self loathing.

Jerking off her son is a huge clue that Cissy is completely fucked up and wounded. The sexual act is one filled with rage and self hatred that she forces on her son. However, being jerked off by your mother certainly does explain a lifetime of drug abuse. Guilt is not a motivator for Cissy's behavior and that act of sexual abuse is not an explanation for her behaviour and rage. Something else is at work in this life giving and life destroying mother known in HBO land as Cissy Yost.

John fron Cinni-fucking-nnati

2007-07-17T22:17:00.000-06:00

HBO has managed to come up with the best show in the whole world. John from Cincinnati combines skateboarding, surfing, porn, child molestation, and miracles in one hour of fine TV entertainment.

Cissy Yost:

"I thought you were an idiot before you started shooting dope, but you were a 12-year-old genius compared to the stupid fucker you are now. As much acid as I took I was never as stupid as you."

Cissy Yost the wife of Mitch and mother to Butchie has got to be one of the most complex, and unintentionally evil characters ever invented. In her raging self hate her love is both mutilating and unconditional. Of course I relate to that. Because of her intense love for her grandson she is forgiven much, but in reality she is a ball busting bitch of biblical proportions. She is why women hate men. She has damaged beyond reason the men in her life from her self hatred and anger. It will be interesting to see how this Kali rage she has will be explained.

The men are confused and troubled, but do not have the fever of destruction Cissy Yost manifests. She is unrelenting in her anger and need to inflict pain. She sinks to the lowest level to express herself. Everyone in her world is defined by a curse and a byword. Her husband the asshole, her son the stupid fucker, the grandson's mother a whore.

I suppose I relate to her. I have always had problem expressing myself without swearing. It protects me from showing my feelings and it hides the real me and it drives people away. Talk about self -destruction, eh!

***My birthday was less than stellar, but I plan to make up for it as I was sick as a dog that day and had an eye infection***

Once again my bosoms save the day

2007-07-12T23:10:00.001-06:00

As mighty force of goodness in the universe my bosom reign supreme. Many a man has called upon God after seeing them as in. "Oh my God, you have great tits!"

A client recently had twins, a boy and a girl. They are wonderful. The little boy is quite adorable and for months I have been avoiding picking them up. However on crisis, I was called to the client's home and had to nurture the small childrens. I have been sucked into their sweet baby orbit.

So the little boy baby likes to be held--all the time. Tonight at work he was crying and finally I picked him up and held him to by bosoms and he is immediately happy. Yes the comforting warmth of my superior bosoms can comfort small babies and lull them into a happy state of being.

They have done this for grown men also. So to honour my bosoms I am posting a picture of them, tastefully covered by a black bra that mysteriously disappeared from the trunk of the my car. I can not help but comment on my lovely skin--it is quite luminous.

Little pussies

2007-07-10T22:10:00.000-06:00

The cat gave birth without incident. She had seven kittens, but one died and is now buried in my rose garden. Six little pussy cats live. I have two given away to clients and I may keep one for my dog. For reasons unknown my little dog likes cats. R's little dog nursed the mother cat for three months when she was a kitten. Roxy even produced milk. It was unnatural and got the cat exiled to the backyard. Although thinking back on it they both enjoyed it a lot.

So the backroom is devoted to kittens for a while. I do not even know what someone owes you when they go out of town and leave you with a pregnant cat. Something for sure. Oh my birthday is coming up. Wild suggestions and birthday wishes are much appreciated and anticipated.

Evil Fuckers

2007-07-10T22:05:00.001-06:00

Evil abounds in this world and temptation is strong. There are some evil fuckers over at Neiman Marcus that put shoes on sale. $895.00 American dollars is retarded for a pair of shoes, but $350.00? Well, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Clean up, please aisle Jill

More reason for moistness

2007-07-09T23:56:00.000-06:00

For all of us that feel moist in our adorable panites over shoes. One for D. Okay two

All this and More

2007-07-08T21:26:00.000-06:00

Saturday was a record day of sorts. I participated in a run/walk in Pocatello. Actually I walked and I only walked 2.5 miles, but that was because my best girlfriend was in a neck brace and even at that we came in second and third. It was good so I signed up for another. And I am going to do a half marathon in Boise November 3rd.

I never in my entire life thought I would be in a place where my body is actually better than the majority of women my age. So spurred on by my excellence, I have decided to lose the last ten pound. Why the hell not?

My yard is pretty good this year. Not near where I want it to be, but decent. It is not embarrassing. Although I had to write out a house cleaning schedule as I have not been able to organize that task at all.

I have R's cat in my basement about to give birth. He is camping with his son and since I have to work, I got to keep the hugely pregnant cat. I just hope everything goes well and isn't too gross.

I am at the store yesterday with R and I am brushing off a piece of lint from his shirt. The lady behind us says,

"You can't improve on perfection."

What can you say to that so I laugh then I realize she is my girlfriend's sister in law ans we talk Before she leaves she looks at us and says,

"I was serious about him being prefect."

There is something about the R-man that women love, old, young whatever! They love him.

Baby needs New Shoes!!!

2007-07-08T21:24:00.000-06:00

WOW!

Watch this and Happy 4th

2007-07-04T09:11:00.000-06:00

Good shit

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6287982190599891943

Sparkles Abound

2007-07-04T07:27:00.000-06:00

I went to work yesterday and it can be summarized like this:

Jill attended and witnessed a marriage, Jill bought a wedding cake and had "Simply Amazing" written on it, Jill cooked dinner for the crew of 25, Jill had an unpleasant encounter with Barb, who dresses like an old Vegas whore complete with whore nails, Jill drove the van of mentally ill clients to Fort Hall and watched the Fireworks that are set off for Treaty Day. Jill said to them, "What is wrong with you guys? You act as if you all have a mental illness?" Jill dropped off her client at the assisted living home. Jill returned home at midnight, but did not turn into a pumpkin.

It is hard for me to describe the day as anything but surreal as in what the fuck was that about?

Work is funny. I have never worked and I am not a huge fan of work. However since getting out of school and having that bullshit lifted from my head, I have had time to work and I sort of like it. Plus I am excellent at it. I am not excellent at very many things--sex, gardening, being a friend, being a mother, walking, riding my bike, and now work! One reason I think I am good at work is that I am from this town and know it like the back of my hand, but I have been away long enough to have some sort of perspective on it. Blackfoot is crazy--crazy. Shit happens here that we just go oh, you know. Anywhere else it would seem crazy, but here we just go well you how she/he is! It is crazy. It is like we are mentally ill.

This summer I woke up after about three years of heavy drinking and dancing and partying and sexing up and went, " Wow, I am living in Moreland. I work in Blackfoot. I have a crazy boyfriend. How do I feel about this level of crazy!"

I am okay with it. There is something to be said about being where God planted me. As for the boyfriend. The relationship is complicated and certainly can not be summed up by the word boyfriend, not when we are both 51, out of long term marriages, and have nine children and three grandchildren between us. My Ex is always emailing me and saying stuff like I hope you and R are happy. How can anyone be that simplistic? Am I happy standing alone on my porch looking at the summer stars? Yes. Am I happy sitting under the tree watching the corn grow on a hot summer day talking with R? Yes. Does R make me happy? Is that possible? I don't think so. I have to be happy or content or find equilibrium by myself. I believe you can be happier with some people than others. I know it was a fight to be happy with my ex as he was constantly monitoring what I said, what I did, what I looked like, and criticizing as it some how reflected on him. There are fucking miserable people and I believe that being with them enhances misery and my Ex was that person. He wanted someone there all the time shoring up his ego. I always felt he lied to me, but I see now he didn't lie to me. He just didn't know the truth of himself or his feelings or have the ability to bring anything but confusion and misery from the roiling emptiness within him.

That is down note! So if you do not all ready know this. Eating beets will turn your pee pink. In Europe they call this beetroot. Obviously in the USA we do not eat enough beets to know this and we think of beets as those nasty things in a tin can purchased at some store. Beets are the best. Roasted or boiled they rock. I actually have beet cravings. I made lovely lovely beet greens yesterday for several clients and we loved them.

Red is great!

2007-07-03T07:52:00.001-06:00

Well I had a dream about having sex with my boss which was pretty fucked up as the rest of the staff came in and disturbed us, and for reasons known only to dreamland we seemed to be married, but I was still having sex with R.

I can not comment on this thing! The 4th is here and last year I celebrated in Blackfoot with fireworks, the year before I had the all time worst date ever with the unimaginable asshole Jesson Coworth, this year R has committed to the day. After the worst date in the universe I have to commemorate that day by doing something great plus I secretly wish unhappiness and misery on Jesson Coworth.
Plus I always have liked the 4th of July. Fireworks make me hot~!

Comment on No Rain

2007-07-02T21:41:00.000-06:00

Patrick D wrote:

It's okay if you don't believe in the power of positive thinking. It also depends on the person on how he handles his/her it. But for some it could always be useful.

First I am glad anyone comments. I am always surprised and happy with any comments, but having made my gratitude known doesn't necessarily mean that I can not come back and comment more. After all this is my little part of the Internet. No, I do not believe in the power of positive thinking. In fact, I think it is hooey. However, I do believe that our thoughts have the power to shape us in ways conscious and unconscious. That is what cognitive psychology is all about.

I have deeply positive beliefs about growing old and few negative ones. To keep these beliefs I consciously choose to ignore many things, such as, my ass. My focus is on me and what I believe I am shaping, which in my world is my soul. It is the only thing I came into this joint with and it is the only thing I am going out with. No, it is not about positive thoughts is is about knowledge and belief. I believe with all my being that I will have robust good health and so far so good. While I am not that wondrous, I project what beauty I have. I magnify it. Not everyone sees it, but I no longer care because sometimes someone does and I know it and they know it.

I have a sure knowledge of some things--not many. But in the immortal words of John from Cincinnati Some things I know and some things I don't.

What I know-

Your are as happy as you set out to be
No one can make you unhappy, but misery loves company so steer clear of assholes
You can't find robust health if you are dragging around dead weight and that can be your 100 pound freaky girlfriend or the 301 pound ex or your low self esteem Drop the dead weight~!

Blind Melon has a live version of No Rain on YouTube and it rocks. I love Shannon Hoon. I always felt his death was sad and very forgotten

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8149422685888647027

No Rain

2007-07-02T01:23:00.000-06:00

Ohh ohhh ohhh
All I can say is that my life is pretty plain:

No Rain by Blind Melon has got to be one of the best definitive moments in late 80's music although it was released in 1991. It’s popularity stems from the fact it captures a sense of pure happiness. I love those moments. I do not gt them every day, but I get them enough to make life all worthwhile. I have had that moment on and off all day. Except now it is new day, but since I spent most of it sleeping and I am not tired.

That was an odd thing. I was drinking wine and talking–not that much wine, two glasses and then the next thing I know I am waking up in R’s bed and it is 8 at night and I am alone in the house. Weird and I wasn’t drunk. I was just really tired. I woke up tired and went back to bed and fell asleep for two hours, then I went to church and out to the garden and had a glass of wine and then woke up four hours later. My mother thinks I am sick, but I feel great and I look great! In the last four years I have lost 351 pounds of ugly and useless fat.

301 pound of fat can be attributed to my ex husband. So when I curbed him I lost 301 big ones. And it felt great. The trurh of the matter is that as long as you are hunging on to something fucked in your life you can’t get to the happy bee place and you can’t lose weight.

I never believed in the power of positive thinking, never! But I always knew I would have a healthy and happy old age. I have never doubted this for one second. I had no plan, but I had faith in it. Sometimes that is all that it takes.

A little girl at church came up to me and said; "I saw you singing, You look like my grandma Wendy."

I said, "Thank you"

I was telling this story to a friend and he said, "That’s terrible!"

"Why? Grandma Wendy might be super hot!"
"You are such an optimist."

Me of the bitter bitch rep? I do not think so. I was just in my happy bee place all day.

Weird Week

2007-06-29T22:50:00.002-06:00

Working with the hopelessly insane is draining. I will be so happy to be working with fat people and unhappy people. Anyway hard week at work!

I went to a birthday party at R's daughter's house and hung out with his ex, which was just weird.

Then I had really good mail this week!!! I have received two postcards form the notoriously shy Angela as she has traveled Europe,,, lucky girl. I love real mail. It is great. It made me so tickled when I saw it and read it. Like new love or something else splendid.

Then I received a thank-you card from my best friend highlighting all my stellar attributes and I was very happy.

The garden is superior and ever pleasant. I took fresh and organic mint to the local bar today, spinach to a client who makes a wonderful strawberry, feta spinach salad and will be weeding tomorrow.

Plus I have one huge ripe tomato!!! And basil. I am thinking tomato basil mozzarella salad

2007-06-29T22:50:00.001-06:00

Radish's are gone!!

2007-06-17T19:34:00.000-06:00

I had wanted to make these adorable radish mice, but unfortunately the radish are gone, eaten, and no more.

Radishes aren't really that good outside of potatoe salad, anyway.

The best thing about radishes is that they grow fast and are they first thing you harvest. We now have beets and carrots and spinach, lettuce (assorted types) and cilantro and all sorts of other herbs.

Gardending is the best thing ever--other than sex, getting your drink on and generally rasing hell. As for drinking my activites along this line is sadly diminished. I drive so I do not drink.

I took my youngest son out to a moive Knocked Up, who knew vaginia could be so funny? Then we went to a wine bar and used to go to almost every night. We are sitting at the bar and this man I know from seeing him all over town walks by and brushes up agasint me. My son writes something down on a wine flyer and passes it to me. It says:

"He is giving you the dirty eye!"

I speak back to him, "He isn't."

son says: "He is and flexing his tricep at you."

My son, who is filled with rage, lets his rage blaze at this random man. He lets go with a rant about his clothes and his hair and hair age and whatever else he can.

Then he writes and shows me: "Small Penis Syndrome."

And.........

2007-06-14T19:14:00.000-06:00

It is my dog's birthday today and he is 1.

We had planned to take him to the cooter bar so he could have a dance on stage, but they don't let dogs in. So Jax will be celebrating at the combined birthday party and second annual beet green social in two weeks. This year we have chard also and huge amounts of lettuce of all kinds.

The menu:

Beer butt chicken

Salad

Beet greens

Chard

Rolls

Texas Sheet Cake

red apple and peach sangria, assorted fancy beer, and pear vodka with Sprite.

Last summer Jax's girlfriend, Roxy, nursed the cat for two months and got milk. It was twisted.

We ended up rubbing bad tasting stuff on the Roxy's nipples. She is expecting Jax's puppies some time in late July. It is a fertile place, R.'s place with the garden riping, the cat with kittens, and Roxy with puppies.

A Force of Good

2007-06-14T17:48:00.000-06:00

I have concluded m bosoms are a force for goodness in the universe. They are! I have been letting them expand their sphere of influence by showing more cleavage, which has caused problems at the office. I personally think my bosoms are wonderful and no one could be harmed by looking at them. Instead they would have to be edified and determined to better themselves after catching a glimpse of my bosoms.

Since I am done with school I am going to get in superior shape. I have begun this journey by riding my bike three miles a day, yoga, and lifting weights plus drinking more water.

My son encouraged me by saying, "Mom, if you lose another 10 pound and get in shape you will crush Dad when he sees you."

"That is because I am a goddess."

"What about all that anger?"

"It is the way of the goddess to extend not only love, but fury."

"mmn, I can't really like a girl that can't get her crazy on."

"It's my legacy to you and your brothers."

Done

2007-06-14T06:34:00.000-06:00

I am done with school for now. I should luxuriate in the feeling of completeness, but that is not my way. I have a MS in psychology, which is rather outstanding as I have no science background.

How did I celebrate? Well I chatted up my friend D., drank wine, and wrote a drunken rambling email. Then I fretted about the upcoming weddings.

One is in the bag. I am not going, so I do not have to worry. I cannot in good consciousness support such a bad and hopeless union.

The other wedding will be a classy affair and I plan not to get my drink on and have a real vacation with R.

I had a strange email from the Ex, who apparently still reads my blog and searches Match.com for my profile to see if I am on the market for new men, which I am not.

I did have a profile a long time ago and never took it off as I never went back on the site. Oddly it could only be viewed by other members, always said active in the last 3 weeks, and stayed up for one a year without me ever remembering it was up. This could be why Match.com is being sued for padding its membership. I suppose the logic of my Ex was such: had a fight with daughter, must be wrong and crazy, must be under stress, I (the EX) will search Match and read her blog to determine the cause. This doesn't add up for me. But if any of you see how it adds up please comment.

The cause of the fight is that I can not support bad choices my daughter makes. Simple.

Bad dates were not the cause of the fight as I have had several bad dates over the course of being single for four years.

I didn't even know I was on Match.com until Ex sent an email. It does make me wonder what he was doing on Match.com? It does.

I am just glad I am done with school. I began school six months before divorcing my Ex as I knew I needed to do something to support myself. Now I am on the other end, student loans galore, all in deferment and likely to stay in deferment forever. I am okay. I have a decent job, a house I am going to buy, good friends, two dogs and a huge conjugal garden.

Things are ok. Not great, not amazing, but ok and that is good. No
love of my life, but I was never looking for the love of my life as I do not believe in that concept. People bring to us different things. My Ex never brought me love, but I have three children and had many good years . I have not been wowed by love since 1997.

Not sure where this is going as I am hungover and need to get to work--staff meeting where my cleavage is discussed. I can hardly use my bososm as forces of good in the universe if they are not being seen. So I continue to show cleavage--just not as much--

Don't know Why?

2007-06-06T17:30:00.000-06:00

I don't know why?

We all get through life more or less on illusion. It is necessary to live out each day. That is okay. That is good for everyone mental health. If the whole of our life and what we do to survive was held up before us, it could be very discouraging.

As one friend said I am good

I am 100,00o in debt

Underweight

Need back surgery

Single

But all things considered I feel good about myself.

I have never been the sort of person that holds my life up to others and compares. And I do not have to run someone else down to feel better about myself. Nor have I ever harbored hurtful and mean spirited feelings about others.

So has completely surprised to me to have such a long standing and bitter grudge against my EX. It is against my basic nature as person. It goes against everything I believe in as a person and because of that I have to look at the very nature of rage.

I suspect rage is a survival instinct. It is what we do when our survival as a persons is being threatened. It can be our emotional survival, or safety to whatever that we value that is being destroyed and the human reaction is rage.

Worst thing I have Done, possibly

2007-06-05T08:52:00.000-06:00

Last year I receieved this stupifiying email from my ex. I was amazed and amazed. Well, we had a family freak storm over the weekend and the ex has been hugely insulting. It could be that he has almost reached his quest for being the most unhappy person on the planet (thanks for this idea, dear one.) But to email me three months before his marraige to the love of his life and float the get back together ballon is rather delsusional isn't it? D. like to hear your take on this.

From: "wayne hill"

To: jjjorgensen1@msn.com>

Subject: RE:>

Date: Sat, 18 Mar 2006 02:25:28 +0000>>>>>

What is going on with you right now? Are you in love. Is there meaning in your life. None in mine. Maybe it is time to put our lives back together. what do you think.

Let me now

Anway I do need to lift myself from this mire of distress and get out of this negative groove.

UPDATE FROM NEW EMAIL BY EX:

We knew something was wrong in your life. The only explanation for your stress related explosion. We checked Match, and it just confirmed the stresser. We also went to your blog site. Additional insight into your behavior.

Do not really know what this means, but I am sure it is meaningful!!!

Absolute

2007-06-01T07:54:00.000-06:00

I had an absolutely perfect day yesterday. That is all that can be said! j

More Funny from Grandson

2007-05-29T22:23:00.000-06:00

As a family we went to visit the graves Monday. In the car my son is acting like--like himself. Suddenly my grandson says:

GRA--MA!!

What, James

Maybe, we should kick him down the stairs again?

Everyone says--What did he just say?

LAST DATE,,, EVER

2007-05-29T20:14:00.000-06:00

Every friendship hits a rough spot and when that happens--I date. But as of May 27, 2007, I have sworn off revenge dating and dating of any kind. Why? It seems that every asinine thing, every layer of male fuckitude has been mined to the very depths by my EX and nothing any man says to me has not been said before to me by my EX therefore poisoning my life.

My EX said things to me in such complete sincerity. which were obviously lies, and only said to shore up his tiny ego and perhaps his tiny prick, that my eyes would cross. On a side note; The EX is still the same, still drinking, still abusive, and still living with his mother.

The reason I will date at times is I know I am not going to fuck any of these random men. I know that going into it and I tell them. They just think I will be so needy and old and desperate that I will fuck them–wrong!

I struck up this friendship with an older man. Now my feelings on older men are well known and they have not been proven wrong. This experience further solidified my beliefs. Older men suck. They are insecure, needy, ego driven, and mean spirited.

I told this man I was not going to have sex with him. That if he wanted to go out to dinner once in a while, talk, maybe dance that is okay–nothing else. Somewhere in my last date, he begins to rub my leg like a randy dog or something–total turnoff. I am not much for the gentle touch–someone said they liked sex with me as it was harsh, dark, and semi-violent.

That is about right. I would love to be one of those people who wants to stare into anothers eyes and get all dewy and make love until the doves of desire fly into the clouds of passion—fuck what am I writing. I think my most oft repeated love making phrase is harder!!! and don’t stop.

When I do not respond to this cloying tender touch I get a barrage of what I can only explain as flat out male fuckitude: This is what was said and also said by Ex, hence my bitterness:

"I bet you haven’t ever had an orgasm." Yeah, you keep right on telling yourself that! Think of how insulting this is. I am a fifty year old woman with a good IQ and I have not been able to figure out how to have an orgasm. Every man I had sex with sucked and couldn’t figure it out either. What are the odds? This is one of those comments that makes me want to smack someone up side the head.

"My lovers tell me I was the best lover they ever had." Women lie. Men get a clue and the smaller your ego and dick the bigger the lies.

"I give great oral sex." So do I, but not to you! And I do not want you down between my legs slobbering like a rabid dog either. Most men do not give good head. They do not know what they are doing down there. An I do not like it–I never have. People have different preferences. Oral sex is not one of mine.

"Does my age bother you?" No, I like the idea you are 12 years younger than me dad. That is a huge turn-on.

"You are every cold.:" You are an asshole.

Men fail to realize that some of us good looking older women were stunning younger women. I had every man I wanted. I never lacked for men. I was hot. And I was a popular high and college school girl and very happy. Basically I was the girl you didn’t have a chance with and it is insulting to think some man thinks I am willing to fuck him just because he has a dick and I am fifty.

Postscript: the next morning he calls up and asks if we can have phone sex. He tells me his dick is getting hard, not hard, but getting there... Wow alert the news. I told him to call a sex line.

Do not Kick Down the Stairs--Theory Number 2

2007-05-22T20:55:00.000-06:00

Do not kick your kids down the stairs. You will live to regret it as it will be brought up all the time and the defense of "You little fuckers used to piss me off," really doesn't work that well.

"GRA--MA, how many times did you kick my uncles down the stairs?"

"I didn't kick your uncles down the stairs."

# 1 child--never got kicked down the stairs, but I did randomly smack him--hence his emotional malfunctions.

#2 child--never was hit, ever.

# 3 child--never kicked down the stairs or ever hit as a kid--did sucker punch her once as an adult. I was wrong on that one.

#4 child--kicked down the stairs--actually he threw him self down the stairs and I ran down after him and kicked him in the ass and yelled "Get your ass up the stairs and I'll kick you down again" It was 110 degrees. He had been making his sister scream for three weeks and I could not take it anymore. Then his dad kicked him UP the stairs after he had come home with a "contact high" for the fifth night in a row.

When rearing kids do not kick them up or down the stairs as you will get tired of hearing about it. Really I am just sick of this story. I heard it again Saturday.

Update on Kids--Theory Number 1

2007-05-21T21:07:00.000-06:00

I am perfectly fine with me bitching about my kids--since I did grow them in my very own body and all. Over the years certain theories about each child's emotional well being have developed. Here is theory number 1.

A) Were they nursed and for how long?

1.Number one child, not nursed and is the most emotionally strange--thrill seeking crazy man!

2.Number two child, nursed for two years and is the most emotionally strong--bought me a house and is the only one with great credit. Love him.

3. Number three child, nursed six months and weaned because she was so skinny. She has remained skinny and is not as normal as 2, but less crazier than 1

4. Number four child, nursed three months and is mostly crazy.

Althought my mother nursed all of her kids and we all suck--bad milk or something

Alex Rose

2007-05-17T21:11:00.000-06:00

I am been out of it for a while, but I found MTV.Com and cool old 80's videos
Love 80's music, love it.

But,,,what in God's Green Earth happened to Axel Rose?

In Sweet Child O' Mine a woman could think of fucking him!

Now---not even in a nightmare!

How can you go from being so hot to being so nasty! He has all the money in the world, what the hell is that about?

I have aged better, much better

We should all be so proud of our hairy beanbags.

2007-05-09T19:38:00.000-06:00

It seems that every male in my family is proud of their man bits. Things I have heard over the years:

"Mike has a huge dick."

"It's short but amazingly thick."

"I have the dick of death.'"

"Women are addicted to it."

When I told the grandson story to someone they asked how I felt about it.

I feel like boys, men compare their peepers and their hairy beanbags beginning at a very young age.

Women hardly ever say something, like, "My pussy is bigger than yours or hairier or tighter or cuter or whatever."

Men along these lines, such as, look at my car, look at my job, look at my girlfriend, but it all comes down to who has the biggest peeper.

Sad really

While we Wait

2007-04-30T22:22:00.000-06:00

While we wait from my son to write his bizarre rendering of his drunken fight, I will regale the masses with a grandson story:

We are going to Applebees for lunch.

My grandson is walking beside me an he says:

"GRANDMA!"

This is how he begins all his stories to me by making sure he has my complete attention.

"Grandma! When I was going to the bathroom with Trey, he told me I had a big sack."

me, "What does that mean, sack?" I was pretty sure I knew what it meant, but I wanted to be clear on it.

Grandson, "You know, nut sack"

me, "oh!"

Grandson, " It is true. Trey's are like peanuts. Mine are liked golf balls."

me, "oh."

He is so brilliant. He can compare and contrast, and tell a story, total and complete brilliance.

2007-04-29T17:56:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow or the next, my son is going to guest write and tell the lovely story of him breaking his hand on some guy's forehead. it should be entertaining to say the least. In the meantime, I found this website of dirty songs that are funny.

http://www.bunkumbros.com/bunkum_bros.html

I know this is our first date and I think it's meant to be
But here's a few things you should know about me ...There's a zit on my butt and that's wrong
I got shit in my butt but not for long
There's a million things about me that ain't so strong
But when you're my girlfriend you'll play along I got hair in my nose and it's thick
I got hair that grows on my dick

There's plenty of different ways that I could make you sick
But when you're my girlfriend you'll deal with it.Sit back down, where you goin', wait a minute
It's not as bad as it seemsI know how it sounds let me finish then you'll get it

I'm a nightmare, sure, but I'm the man of your dreams
Sometimes when I belch I throw up
And when my ass makes gas sometimes poop shows up
At any given moment I might eruptBut when you're my girlfriend you'll ignore that stuff.
Oh ... and forget about reaching orgasm'

Cuz no lover of mine ever has 'emYou see I'm lazy in bed and I come too quick
But when you're my girlfriend you'll get used to it. Sit back down, where you goin', wait a minuteIt's not as bad as it seemsI know how it sounds let me finish then you'll get it

I'm a nightmare, yeah, but I'm the man of your dreams
I'm saying that despite all my flawsI 'm perfect for you because
You see my trust is blind and my love is true
And when you're my girlfriend I'll worship you.

And since I'm an ugly, stinky, flatulent man that's just gonna have to do.

Wow

2007-04-28T20:39:00.000-06:00

This makes me nuts. Damn that is a good looking man, and who does not like pirates? The pillaging and the big swords.

Some women do not like the pretty boy, but I have always have.

I am so hot!!!!

2007-04-24T16:44:00.000-06:00

My word, those teen idols were hot, such memories!

Just want to Laugh

2007-04-21T22:17:00.000-06:00

Someone asked why I was not writing and posting so many pictures.

Well, sometimes thinking is a real chore and at 50 sometimes I have a hard time coming up with things I really want to think about. However I do love shoes and that guys hairy fat ass still makes me laugh.

By the way. I do not have the red shoes, but I bought the pink ones for my daughter's wedding. I'm cool like that!

Happy Birthday Micheal

2007-04-18T22:37:00.000-06:00

I need to get my drink on!!!

You're an alcoholic

I am taking my beer!

It is my son's birthday. I went the hospital about 28 times with what I hoped were contractions with my last son. I was sure I was going to have him for a month before he was born.

I quarter of a century later here we all are. Not where we want to be but where we are!!!

This video is for you and all your rants that are so amusing

http://sjl.funnyordie.com//v1/view_video.php?viewkey=3efbc24c7d2583be6925

I love you Mike and stop screening your damn calls.

A Bum is Still a Bum

2007-04-18T07:39:00.000-06:00

I am not sure how she got into those and if they are healthy, but damn those are some tight red pants!!!

Whales-------

2007-04-16T19:00:00.000-06:00

I am amazed and shocked at what I can find on the Internet. I know some people have problems, but I can find damn near anything and some stuff I wish I had never never ever known about. Like the guys that like to watch naked women in high heels step on mice and gerbils.

Butt, sorry, this is just funny

For Everyone that has work tomorrow

2007-04-15T22:04:00.000-06:00

I found this on Craigslist:

Dear Jesus,I want to believe in you and your miraculous powers, I really do. I was raised in a devout Catholic home, and as long as I remember have been hearing about your divine nature and limitless compassion. You turned water into wine, healed lepers, and even raised the dead. I know you have boundless abilities. I also know that your compassion compels you to assist those who suffer, and to hear their agonized prayers.

I have been ceaselessly praying to you for over three years now Jesus, yet still my prayer remains unanswered. Please tell me: Why won’t you run over my co-worker Renee with an 18 ton cement truck? Every day is another eternity of listening to Renee talk about her mildly retarded, morbidly obese child and her husband’s swollen testicles and ass-boils. I am suffering beyond the point of endurance my Lord. Please make manifest your divine Love and Grace by sending a cement truck of mercy to squash Renee flat in all your love and wisdom.

Amen

Thank you D. for letting me know

2007-04-15T19:05:00.000-06:00

that worse stuff was out there.

This is worse I think?

Old Cooter

2007-04-13T06:25:00.000-06:00

This is wrong on every level.

What I find most disturbing about this picture is that it is being sent all over the Internet. How would that be to be the random old ugly cooter in everyone's email? I myself have sent this out to 50 or 60 people.

Obviously, this woman thinks she is hot and that is why people are looking at her and admiring her beauty. The poor thing is totally delusional and must have several friend that help her with this delusion. This is like making fun of the woman's mental illness and what is up with the homemade thong? "I have extra string and I think I'll use a dinner napkin and go to the beach and show off?"

a Rose by any other name

2007-04-04T19:47:00.000-06:00

I like Rose McGowan. She made a very bad dating choice with Marylin Manson and must regret those pictures taken with him. The woman went from weird cult girlfriend to chipper witch on Charmed and back to cult wench. Wow, give her credit for that.

She is not the best looking or best built, but she works hard and there is something about her that entrances the viewer---sort of a deep anger working below the surface. A willingness to please and be liked at almost any cost. Rose is more girl from the trailer court than most actors. And her name Rose could not be more trailer trash, yet she is likable.

Still it will be her work on Charmed that won me over, Charmed the highly underrated TV program, a blend of Bewitched and Days of our Lives with music. It was worth watching for the clothing alone and was on TV for a long running seven years. oh, a rose by any other name would not smell as sweet as Rose McGowan.

Can't tell if i am Sick or not

2007-03-27T19:41:00.000-06:00

I have lost a lot of weight. Everyone new that knows me thinks of me as pretty skinny. I have been pretty skinny for a while. It is weird.

My ex read this and sent out a email about how he didn't understand why one son didn't want contact and how I was a bad mother for saying my other son was a drunk. Something about a public forum. Whatever! What a dick.

But my new rant is meth. If I was sick, I would not have it filmed and I am so disgusted with this meth head who filmed his own death that I feel like killing him again. What is wrong with a society that says it is okay to film a death and glorify a hideous act of suicide?

That is what it is when someone dies of an overdose.

It is not a good way to kill yourself, but it is killing yourself all the same. Just slow and ugly.

I work with a meth head. And sometime I just want to say:

"Here take a gun! Put it in your mouth and pull the trigger slowly.:"

I rather clean up that mess than watch her die inch by inch. Someone said, stop working with her. How? No one else will at this point!

I am pissed off at her for sucking me into her hell and I am pissed off at myself for caring about someone that does not give a shit about themselves.

It takes a lot to suck me in so I am just angry about having to feel. Fuck that!

Fuck that fucky fuck fuck!

There I feel better

Really What the Hell is Really Going on?

2007-03-02T20:59:00.000-07:00

I have not blogged because it required me to read some new stuff and I did not want to--at all. Something is wrong with my life. I got paid today and I saw that I had worked more than 40 hours? No wonder I do not remember anything or get anything done, I am always at work.

What is new? Surprisingly little to be truthful. My son is getting married, my daughter also. My other son is still a drunk and the oldest is still in Iraq. My dog is almost a year old and spends good part of his time marking his territory, which seems to be my bed. I have not been dancing as much--injured my toe.

The people I work with are still crazy, but you can learn a lot from crazy people.

I still hate Tom Cruise. The media sucks more and more each day, which amazes me. The Anna Nicole thing. Good hell, I have seen monkeys behave better. Wow!

I am still drinking, doing yoga, walking, trying to sleep better.

I love sleep. Nothing in life is as good as sleep. You are alive--but unconscious. Sorry, but that was not original I stole it from someone.

There are a lot of spanking blogs with people doing things even I would never post. Not even interesting stuff--just boring stuff I heard when I was 16 or 18 or something. They act as if they have been caught doing something really really naughty and I should sit back and go--"Oh you are so brave for saying that!" Maybe not so brave; maybe just undignified. Sad really. So much of the Internet is devoted to really bad behaviour. When say bad I mean stupid, uninteresting, immature crap.

I have no tattoos but I am thinking of one. I do not get paid as much as I should, but who does. I still dislike my ex, but he is irrelevant to my life.

I think I will now become a prude. I will be fun

readers---all 2 of you --come back to me

X-mass Again

2006-12-24T09:21:00.000-07:00

Again, I have PMS for X-mass I have HAD IT FOR THE LAST 20 TO 25 YEARS OR SO!!! Sort of tired of being depressed and bloated for the holiday season. I used to sort of like holidays and now I am sort of hating them. The money the expectations, the whatever else is going on. My ex driving to town to drop off presents like a big fat drunken Santa and bringing Mrs. Santa with him. I do not have enough stress in my life. I want all my family with the ex at a cheesy restaurant on X-Mass Eve.

I am in a bitter place and hopefully I will grow beyond it, but God only knows. I could be seriously emotionally wounded and unable to heal. That is my fear, but it could very well be hormones talking.

Sexy or Not

2006-12-20T17:10:00.000-07:00

I guess I am losing my touch. Everyone that saw the recon dance thought it was way sexy and from the 100 or more comments on myspace, they all thought it was sexy too. I lean toward silly. Perhaps it is because my son knows him and he is 27, but I find it silly--yet I have looked at it about 50 times.

I guess that says something--doesn't it?

More Dancing!!!

2006-12-19T21:52:00.000-07:00

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoID=558749991

Do not really know what this is, but I like it!!!!

Recon Dance

2006-12-19T21:18:00.000-07:00

This is my son's recon friend dancing. Son is presently out on a recon mission---------shit!

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoID=552800321

Look At What 10,000 can buy!!!

2006-12-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

Recent Email:

I can't beleive they paid 10,000 dollars to have this done. Take a look. ttp://www.labiaplastysurgeon.com/labiaplasty-photos.html

Excuse me while I go stab out my eyes

I am still in a dazed state about this. You have to look, really.

Best Mom--EVER!!!

2006-12-15T20:05:00.000-07:00

Top reason why I am the best mom ever.

My daughter does not have her cooter hanging out all over the internet. In fact she wears panties.

Basic mothering: Things to teach girl child

Keep daughter off pole
Keep daughter's privates covered in public

2006-12-15T08:41:00.000-07:00

HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND ALL

Happy Holidays and all that Crap!

2006-12-03T17:14:00.000-07:00

This is my absolute favorite Christmas Song. It is not your typical hymn or Christmas song as it deals with despair and hopelessness, which of course are my bywords during this month of festive crap! Plus is has a strong anti-war theme and as my son is still in Iraq, I feel strongly we should not be in Iraq as a military presence.

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

2. I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

3. And in despair I bowed my head
'There is no peace on earth,' I said,
'For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

4. Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

5.It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn, the households born
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

6. Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.'

7. Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Note: stanza 4 and 5 are normally left out! This was written during the Civil War in 1864 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

For my Canadian Friends--you know who you are

2006-11-29T17:41:00.000-07:00

~The Penis Study~

The '''American''' Government funded a study to see why the head of a man's Penis was larger than the shaft. After 1 year and $180,000, they concluded that the reason that the head was larger than the shaft was to give the man more pleasure during sex.

After the US published the study, the '''French''' decided to do their own study. After $250,000 and 3 years of research, they concluded that the reason the head was larger than the shaft was to give the woman more pleasure during sex.

''''''Canadians,'''''' unsatisfied with these findings, conducted their own study. After 2 weeks and a cost of around $75.46, and 2 cases of beer, they concluded that it was to keep a man's hand from flying off and hitting himself in the forehead .

My hard drive was found!

2006-10-27T15:55:00.000-06:00

One of the first stories I wrote and published, which I am putting her to celebrate my hard drive being found and connected to my new computer.

Tuesday Night Lesson on Virtue

The Tuesday night I brought chocolate cake to Mutual, Sister Ellis gave another lesson on virtue. Mutual stood for M.I.A. or Mutual Improvement Association and was the youth's special meeting, a leftover from our pioneer ancestors. Everyone in Moreland, Idaho between the ages of thirteen and seventeen, went to M.I.A. and so did I. It wasn't exactly a law, but they held the meetings for my benefit, and on Sunday there was Sunday School and Sacrament Meetings to attend. Sister Ellis had one lesson and each week we heard a variation of how to protect our virtue, our innocence, our purity. Our virginity was to be saved and protected and offered as a special gift to our future husbands.

I brought my cake, and fourteen 3x5 recipe cards to share with the class. It was my grandma's one step sour cream chocolate cake with her special fudge frosting. The frosting recipe was a secret and I didn't give it out.

That night, Sister Ellis explained that it was okay to like boys and date. However, there were limits a girl must set if she wanted to get married in the temple and that was the highest and only goal mothers, fathers, and church officials had for a Mormon girl. To marry in the Temple you had to remain a virgin. Unlawful sex was a sin next to murder. If my chastity was lost, stolen or misplaced, I had to confess to my bishop and risk excommunication. Grievous sins of immorality could only be washed away by true repentance and waiting a year after the sin to enter the Temple.

She told the class that we could kiss on the third date, but no deep kissing.

The girl next to me whispered, "Is deep kissing the same as French kissing?"
I whispered back, "I think so."

Our teacher stood in front of the semicircle of folding chairs and gave us sad looks. She was unaware that Satan sat on her own doorstep waiting for an invitation to come inside. Sister Ellis had one son and six daughters. The son, happily married, helped with the family farm. The girls ranged in age from thirteen to twenty-three and were blessed with their mother's fertility.
A year after I brought chocolate cake, two of Sister Ellis's unmarried daughters got pregnant. Karlene was a year younger than me, and her sister Kerry was older by three years. Their boyfriends were sons of farmers, pushed along by the needs of the cattle and fields, the seasons their only points of reference. The farm boys only wanted to bring wives home to their pale blue metal trailer houses. Women to give them a reason to come home. Someone waiting to cook eggs and bacon for dinner. A soft body to lay next to their skinny work hard bodies and fumble with then the days were long and the sun had burnt the strip of skin that showed above plaid shirts.
The sisters conceived during potato harvest, on the same day, in their mother’s house. The rest of the family was out in the fields digging, sorting, and driving truckloads of potatoes to dirt storage cellars. Kerry, the older sister went home to collect six packs of Shasta orange pop from the fridge. Standing on the doorsteps, her boyfriend distracted her with the smell of pent up love. Dropping her hand from the boy’s neck, she caressed the devil’s shoulder. After a such long wait, the devil welcomed the summons and followed the boy and girl inside. The devil’s heavy breathing brought on an act of carnal love. It was over in five minutes, but the boy's seed spent the rest of the day swimming home.

Kerry and her boyfriend left the house and ran into her younger sister Karlene and her boyfriend on the doorstep. The devil decided to stay. In the kitchen among bologna sandwich trimmings another fruitful coupling took place. The devil sat on the yellow formic counter top. With his hand on a Miracle Whip jar, he beat out the time with pointy leather boots. Defying the laws of gravity, the seed of Karlene's boyfriend darted upwards.

Later that night the youngest daughter spotted the devil watching T.V. in the family room. He wore a black leather jacket with matching pants, a white ruffled shirt, and boots. The youngest daughter told me he looked like Jim Morrison. I had always figured the devil looked more like Mick Jagger. To save the family the youngest daughter raised her left arm in a right square as she heard whispered about the church and commanded the devil to leave in the name of Jesus
Christ, but his work was done. The devil’s not Christ’s.

Sister Ellis didn’t allow the farm boys to marry her daughters. She looked at the Levi clad boys and saw their blue trailer houses with greenish-gold shag carpet. In her mind the trailers smelled of wet diapers and cat liter. She had planned on BYU sons-in-laws.
R. Ms—returned missionaries, boys with futures in accounting or bank management.
Sister Ellis hid Kerry and Karlene in the basement while their belly’s swelled. When their delivery date approached, the sisters were shipped out of state. The babies were born in city hospitals, surrounded by anxious strangers. One baby was born in Utah and the other in California. Happy homes were found for the babies by the LDS Social Service Agency.
After the birth of their babies, the repentant sisters went home to regain their figures. Sister Ellis arranged for them to attend BYU. There in Zion the sisters' wholesome beauty attracted virginal young men just home from missions. A year later the sisters married their young men in the temple. The babies an impervious secret in our community.

We sat in innocence of this future drama while we ate chocolate cake, and Sister Ellis preached virtue. But the devil sat on Sister Ellis’s doorstep—waiting.

The subject of deep kissing and petting had us entranced. She cleared her voice and brushed down her brightly flowered purple, pink, and blue polyester dress. The dress, a homemade A-line, pulled across her belly, permanently swelled by childbearing, and her flat broad bottom. Static formed ridges of material across her thighs and her feet clunked in the black patent pumps with chunky heels and gold buckles. She looked down at us and dropped her voice as if to reveal a terrible truth.

She said, "Of course, you know never, never to allow boys to neck or pet with you. Especially heavy necking and petting. They can’t control themselves. It’s up to you girls to set the limits." She went on, "The danger of necking in a car after midnight triples. The devil has control of boys late at night. I’m only telling you this so you can protect yourselves."

I sifted uneasily in my chair. I looked at the other girls. They crossed their ankles and pulled dresses over knobby knees.

DelRay, a raw boned girl who went through puberty in fourth grade and showed me her first bra and ample breasts behind the swing set at the Moreland Elementary playground asked, "What is heavy necking and petting?"

Sister Ellis flushed and leaned against the table. With lips pressed together, the tip of her tongue ran along her lower lip, stained Tropical Corral by Avon lipstick. A spray of gravel pelted the windowpane. She strode across the room and pushed the window open.

She yelled, "You boys get on out of here."
The boys were from all over the area, not just our Ward. A Ward was simply a geographical area, and all the Mormons that lived in the area went to the same Ward.

Bishop Merrill presided over my Ward. God had chosen him.
God did this by having a group of men, known as the high council, pick his name. The high council usually picked a friend or business associate. The high council prayed about the man. If God didn't tell anyone it was a bad choice, he was ordained bishop. Being the bishop was a big honor in a small Mormon community. He got to interview Ward members and ask questions about their sex lives. Delicate, sensitive questions to the girls about where boys had put their hands on our bodies. He also placed understanding questions to married couples about unnatural acts. Did the husband try to force the wife to preform oral or anal sex? The bishop talked to the couple separately. The boys were mostly asked if they handled themselves.
Boys always showed up about the time Mutual got out to yell up invitations and insults. Sister Ellis tried to protect us by issuing her dire warnings of the devil, but by the end of the lesson the boys attentions flustered her and she forgot to tell us what heavy necking and petting were and asked for the prayer.

At the front of the class with arms folded under my breasts, I gave the standard closing prayer. "Heavenly Father, thank-you for our blessings and our class and our wonderful teacher. Bless and protect us that we may get home in safety. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen." The prayer signaled the end of Mutual and the beginning of the night. A feeling between exhilaration and fear made my back arch catlike while the rest of the girls rustled past me. The hand of Sister Ellis caught my neck and she pulled me back in the room.

"Stephanie, do you think that’s an appropriate dress for Mutual?"

I looked down at my blue plaid peasant dress. Elastic gathered the bodice and the long raglan sleeves and it had a tight coordinating blue waist band with a full skirt.

I said, "Yeah, I guess so."

She bent stiffly at the waist and pressed the skirt to my leg. The coldness of her hand went through the thin cotton.

She said, "Don't you think it's a little short."

It was four or five inches above my knee, but I had long legs so I told her no. She shook her head. Tears formed. A warning echoed in the hall. "Please, be careful."

The crepe soles of my shoes slapped quickly and softy down the cold slick tile floor. It was a building constructed for function not comfort or beauty. Back in 1940, money for the building came from bake sells, quilt auctions, Ward dinners and donations. I hurried out to the front steps of the church.

On the top step a boy sat twirling the keys of his pick-up. I ruffled his brown hair and sat down beside him. Danny drove five miles from Springfield to drive me home. I lived a quarter of a mile from the church. Danny Degiulio was considered a bad boy as he was not only Italian, but a Papist as my Grandmother Amy like to refer to Catholics. Plus his grandfather didn’t speak English and made home-grown wine.

I sat next to him in his pick-up, with the gear stick between my knees. We drove to a deserted gravel pit where the headlights glittered off the stagnant water. He ground the gears into park, cut the lights and asked what I’d learned at Mutual. As I answered, the eight track tape began to skip through the song a "Horse with No Name" and he jimmied a piece of paper between the player and the tape to make it stop.

I told him about limits. In fact all that talk about kissing and necking and petting had taken a hold on me. We breezed right through the deep kissing and necking stage. For several weeks we’d fumbled with the petting stage. The goal to this activity was somewhat vague. He pulled down the top of my dress, the elastic slide over my shoulders and breasts. With a strangled sound he moved towards my right breast. I thought it odd he would want to suck on my breast like a baby, but I let him.

The small of my back tingled until a long pulse of pleasure ran down my butt, my right leg and cramped up the ball of my foot. The tension moved back up my leg tightening my thigh and settling in my crotch. I wrapped my arms around his head and held him there, pressed to my breast, gasping. My nipple slipped from his mouth and he turned his face upwards to look at me. He was smiling.

"Do you like that?" he asked.
"Mmm," Was all I managed and pulled him back.
Yet, when Danny placed his hand on my leg and moved it upwards I stopped him.
Before I opened the door to my house, I brushed down my hair with my hands and pulled up the neck of my dress. The front door opened, and there they sat. Side by side on a brown Herculean sofa. My parents. Dad still had on his green plaid wrangler jeans. He'd just come in from fall plowing. A thick coating of oily dust, from the tractor, covered his jeans. My mother sat in her pink nylon nightgown with the distorted lumps of her body visible. Dyed reddish brown hair crimped in sharp angles around her face. The roots of her hair were gray. They asked me to sit down. They wanted to talk at me. I needed only to nod in agreement.
Dad started in by telling me, "Sister Ellis was worried about you. She said you left MIA with that Degiulo character."

Character was used in reference to any person not deemed worthy enough to mention by first name. I nodded.

He went on, "You know your virtue is the most precious gift you can offer your future husband."
I nodded.
He went on, "Boys can't be expected to control themselves. It’s up to you to set the standards." This being even more true for Italians.
He paused and waited for me to nod.
I nodded.

He went on. "The powers of procreation are made strong by God, so men will settle down and accept the responsibility of a wife and children. A woman uses this power to bind her mate to her. The devil tries to subvert this holy power by appealing to man’s animal nature. When young men and women are alone in car at night they are inviting the devil into their lives. Only in the holy bonds of matrimony are you safe to use the powers of procreation."

I nodded twice and went to my bedroom and slipped off my dress. Little red hickeys clashed with my orange bra. Mom bought me white Playtex brassieres that lifted and separated. My friend, Sheri, and I shoplifted bras. The stolen bras came in bright primary colors made from stretchy material. I went to bed clothed in a LeVoy nightgown made from peach nylon material and trimmed in ecru lace. Under my hands the slippery material moved as I rubbed my breasts and belly. Sometime late at night I drifted off to sleep.

The next Sunday the bishop called me in for an interview. The interview was in his private office. I went in and sat down on a wooden chair with a padded orange seat. The shag carpet was a mixture of orange, red and brown. Pictures of Mormon Temples dotted the walls of the small room. Behind the bishop hung a picture of Jesus gathering the little children about him, and another picture of a profile of the prophet Joseph Smith. A framed sampler, stitched by his daughter, hung between the pictures. His daughter was in my Mutual class. In pink X's the sampler read, "Bring the light of the gospel into your home."

He leaned across the desk and shook my hand. Bishop Merrill was a man that appeared plumped up with clean living. Years later his secret drinking shocked the community. He rolled his new red Chevy truck down the barrow pit and was taken to jail for drunk driving. He hadn’t needed a devil to lead him to sin, only a hereditary thirst for cheap liquor and access to lonely women. That day he asked me about my family and school and church. I told him everything was okay, and it was. Then he asked if I drank or smoked. I told him no.

He put his hands under the table and asked, "Are you morally clean?"

"What is morally clean?" I asked.

He paused in thought, and rolled the words around in his mouth until he found the right ones. He placed his left hand back on the table and said, "Have you ever been molested above or below the waist by a boy?"

I took a moment to think about the word molest. It had been a vocabulary word in my junior English class. Molest--"to meddle with so as to cause harm." He twisted a thin gold ring on his finger and moved his callused hand back under the desk while I formed my answer.
I looked up from his hands to his eyes and said, "Yes. I'm morally clean."

Been in a Blog Bog

2006-10-15T18:50:00.000-06:00

Just have not wanted to post. No real reason--just have not wanted to. my oldest son is in Iraq, which I hate. I did recieve this message from him which I thought would make a very funny country western song;

Family,

I am writing from our internet cafe next to an ugly army girl that is giving me an erection. "Oh, I will make you feel so pretty, ugly army girl, just come back to my box". We've been real busy and went outside the wire a few nights ago for a couple of nights. It was alright, still see no signs of why we are here and everyone I have talked to says it is getting worse. Oh well. War should not be this comfortable. When we are on base it is ridiculous. Air conditioned boxes, internet, and a virtual cornicopia of food. I can see why most marines like it over here. They either take a couple of cycles and get buff, or just get fat while making a shit ton of money for a 19 yearold. The convoy to here and the convoy back is all they have to worry about.

I can't tell you

2006-09-23T16:46:00.000-06:00

I can't tell you why I have not posted. I have been busy. Stuff has happened. I have been towed not once, not twice, but trice. I have been to jail. I have been to court three or four times. We had the Great Bikini Bar Escapade. Spot has run away numerous times. I have lost weight. I have been told I am radiant. My ex has become totally irrelevant to my life. I have had several panic attacks because of school and my new computer. I am learning to dance and there has ben slight improvement--very slight.

I am working on a new book idea. I am thinking My Little Book of Hell. Blackfoot has had first winter with a blizzard. The Fair came and went. I ate Tiger Ears, Funnel Cakes, Scone bites, and Hansen's Hoagies. Yummy. My garden was wonderful with lots of tomatoes, corn, pumpkins, squash, of unknown types, and peppers. If there is any of this that sounds better than anything else comment and I might expand on it or not. I also have insight into modern men.

j-

Help for All & D.

2006-09-02T09:45:00.000-06:00

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Tequila® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila®. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it. Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister. New liquor warning labels:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell Happened to your bra and panties.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when You are not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like a retard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to think you can sing. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to believe that ex-lovers are Really dying for you to telephone them at four in the morning. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse With members of the opposite sex without spitting. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, Smarter, faster and better looking than most people. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause pregnancy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may be a major factor in getting your ass kicked

Blackfoot Police

2006-08-27T08:15:00.000-06:00

The party did involve police. Everything in Blackfoot involves police. They showed up right at 11 to tell us the music was too loud and the performer had to stop. It was a damn fine party. I saw lots of people I had not seen in years and my son who is going to Iraq had a pretty good time. Yes, my oldest is being sent to Iraq. These stats somewhat comfort me. There are 180,000 people in the Marines. There are 600 in the recon units that he is in. They also have IQ testing before being accepted to this unit and a very low rate of deaths.

Another 50 party

2006-08-26T18:11:00.000-06:00

I am off to another 50th party of about 200 fellow blackfootities and my son and R. I am hoping this party does not invlove a tow truck or police.

About Sex

2006-08-15T00:04:00.000-06:00

I had a reader tell me he liked it better when I ranted about wanting anal sex, although I am pretty sure I never did that. It might have been a personal rant, but I am sure it was not a blog post.

I have been looking at sites on the net that deal with sex and to tell the truth they make it look pretty damn homogeneous and bland and a matter of just connecting the dots.

And it seems that everyone is bored with it and needs to reach a higher sexual state or think it will create a relationship instantly. Well--no~! that is not how it works.

Good sex comes from loving the other person. (however liking the person a lot can work) That is the sad and ugly truth of the matter. I knew that when I was about 16. Pretty much forgot it when I was married and have relearned it very late in life.

It is a good lesson to learn.

Hey, this blows

2006-08-11T19:01:00.000-06:00

I have a new computer. I didn't really want a new computer, but the motherboard blew in mine. That sounds very alien and weird and sci-fiish. Mostly it has been a pain in the butt. So I am behind at school, the house is outlandish and the yard is overgrown and I am going to go to a dance. All my cool favorite sites are lost and I had a hard time getting here as I am on the bad list of blog sites. I will try to think of something amazing to write tomorrow, but I have to get wonderful looking. yeah and all my cool pictures are gone!

Something Different

2006-08-03T09:27:00.000-06:00

I never did write about my family reunion that sucked nor my job with the nut jobs, nor my second birthday party, nor the visit by my son and his amazing girlfriend, nor the non-climax that was the ex's wedding.

So this is a chpater in my MFA thesis that is set in the part of Idaho I live in.

Chapter Five
The Pain of Past Romance
&
the Failure of Pierre’s Love Life

Call stood in the center of the living room with dust and mice and memories. It had been a winter night when he closed the house after an hour of resting his head on June’s breasts, inhaling her scent, her hands entangled in his hair. Panicked by longing for a child, June made her only request of him. She wanted him to divorce Carolyn and marry her and have a baby.
What held him back was the suspicion that it was the baby she wanted — not him.

He confessed that he did not want another child. Without a word June dressed, called the dog who had been snoring by the fireplace, and stood in the open doorway.

After all those years he could still summon June’s face turned to the wintery sky, snow falling beyond the doorway. Then she stopped and pivoted to say goodbye. The wind gusted and strewed a thin layer of snow across the old wood floor.

She said to him, "Calder, Jennifer is Stewart’s child." After holding that secret for ten years, she had let it loose to ruin him. He hadn’t had to go home and accuse Carolyn. The moment June said the words he felt the truth. Suddenly, he saw Stewart in Jennifer’s strawberry blond hair and green eyes. His and Carolyn’s eyes were blue, his hair dark almost black.

Calder had walked to the door with a blanket clutched around him. The big black dog trotted beside June as she made her way home across the field, down the canal bank, and into the back door of her house probably making as much noise as she wanted because Lo was going deaf.
Pierre had been the dog’s name. June had traveled to Belgium to pick him up as a puppy after leaving her lover, a Montana rancher. Lo told everyone that it was June’s way of taking her mind off a failed romance. She spent two years training Pierre to work the cattle. Instead of nipping the heel of a slow cow, the dog would throw a body check knocking the cow back into place.

Lo and his friend’s delighted in the spectacle of her and the dog working the cattle in the west pasture. The only disappointment in the dog was the fact that June curtailed his nightly rounds and had been so particular about his breeding partners that none of their border collies were good enough for her Bouvier Des Flandres.

She loved saying the name while she patted Pierre’s big shaggy head. The foolish love June had for the dog was common knowledge and generally laughed at. However, she didn’t notice.
Some weeks after June betrayed her secret, Call had encountered her father at Grant’s grocery store.

Lo asked, "Son, you going to ask about June? You always liked her."
"How is she?"
Lo still insisted on driving although he was almost eight-eight at the time. Age had wrinkled Lo’s face and grayed his hair, but the preternatural vigor which distinguished him from other men was barely diminished.

"She’s been real put out with old Pierre. That gal sent all the way to New York for a girlfriend and the goddamn dog can’t make heads or tails of it. Poor bastard. I told her it was like trying to get a fifty-five-year-old virgin to suddenly turn into a Casanova. Son, the way she talks to Pierre. Good hell, she calls him her little baby boy and all sorts of nonsense. She said to me before I walked out of the house. ‘ Pierre, my little puppy man, go with Grandpa to the store.’ I asked her, now June do you talk to any of your men like that? Now do you? ‘Hell, no’ she tells me. So I told her how do you expect that dog to act like a man when you talk to him like that? She just got mad and walked off. Me and the boys been telling her for years she needed to let Pierre meet up with some of their border collies, but she has her own ideas. Always has, ever since she was a little girl. There’s no talking to her. Once that gal has an idea, you can’t pry it out of her head."

"True enough. Sorry to hear about Pierre."

"I’ll tell her you said hello, son. Why don’t you come around now that you’re by yourself That’s no way to be?"

"Lo, you’ve always been by yourself."

"But I’ve never been short of female companionship. I got a new housekeeper. A friend of your mother. An Agnes Babbs. Don’t think you’ve seen her. She’s new to these parts. Used to be a cocktail waitress. I’m not that old, Call." It had been the last time he saw Lo or Pierre, who was a great dog not withstanding his lack of amorous experience.

He should have given June what she wanted as he never returned to the house he and Carolyn shared. Instead he walked out of the little house he had used to make love to June and escape his duties and into his pick-up and drove to Montana. Simply and without fuss, he had turned his back on everything and everyone in his life. A court ordered blood test showed that he could not have fathered Jennifer, a child he had watched being born. Carolyn had forced the test to disallow him from making support payments or requesting visitations. There had been no reason to return home and the years between closing that door and now opening it had been nothing but wasting time, drinking beer, fishing, chasing much younger women, and mourning the loss of June.

Calder stood on the back step, stared toward the Buttes, and watched clouds cast shadows on the wheat field across the canal. Then he made his way to his parents’ backyard and found the hammock. Renee always had a hammock, because she liked to take the sun while she drank. Call sat and rolled back into the hammock and went to sleep.