Friday, May 20, 2011

so its the end of the world...

at least i have a date. i've finally gotten to a point in my life where i'm happy again. i'm having a little fun with my time, and then whamo, someone has to start screaming about the end of the world. i guess if it has to come i have something to hang my hat on - i had a date the night before.

and with my track record, i'm pretty sure this might actually be what causes the terrific earthquakes that tear our world apart. but then that might be a little to up on my self.

so i asked a friend what you should wear on your last possible date (and truthfully, this could be my last date even if the world doesn't end, but i digress). personally i'm thinking we pull out all the stops, which means sequins and feathers should be adorned. her suggestion was a tiara. and while i think that might be a bit much, i have to say i've seen one of our other friends wear all of that shit in her hair, and she seemed to pull it off...with the exception that it was at a funeral. but then i guess the end of days is a funeral of sorts, so apparently i'll be dressed appropriately...

and while i had not intended to sleep with this guy that i'm going on my very first date with, if he uses the line, baby the world is gonna end tomorrow, i might just be like - sigh, take me.

anyway - there is one gleaming piece of hope for us. again, from said friend "i'm pretty sure we're ok because #oprahday isn't until next Wednesday and even God himself wouldn't fuck with Oprah".

nuff said.

on another note, if all these heaven worthy people are about to be whisked off to the great unknown, i'd like to point out to the asshole that drove past three lanes of traffic dutifully waiting to get on the interstate this morning, you won't be going. there's your karma bitch.

so as we wait for the end, may you find a good beer, spend time with a good friend and get a good lay before the day is done. good luck to ya - and i'll see most of you in hell.

:) happy end of days

Monday, January 24, 2011

Who steals from old people? Honestly!

To the asshole that recently stole my grandparent's truck. You're an asshole. Enough said.

This is something I wrote when some similar asshole stole my purse a few years ago. I think it sums it up. Please enjoy -


The End of the Front Porch and the Fall of Civilization



When did it happen?  The end of the end. The day when everyone stopped caring about their neighbor.  Where were you when you realized it was all over?

For me it happened over the weekend, while at home, in my quaint little town home subdivision, modeled after the grand row homes of afore, I was robbed.

Yes, someone entered my garage, found the nerve to rifle through my car, and take my faux alligator, clearance rack knock off, purse.

Of course, once you realize your purse has disappeared, you find yourself talking yourself out of the possibility that someone would have stolen it. You rummage through every possible location you have ever put anything and yet, in the back of your mind, that nagging voice is telling you, somebody took it.

So why is it, in this day and age of constant badgering by the news media about how the world is truly going straight to hell that I wanted to believe that no one would wrong me in such a way?

After calling all my credit card companies, my banks, the credit bureaus, and everyone else I could think of, I sat down and in disbelief asked myself, why is that someone thought that they could do this?  What father left them in their youth, what tragedy had scarred them for life, what disillusionment from never quite making ends meet, did they suffer?

You may be saying that having my purse stolen in comparison to being raped, pillaged or otherwise permanently scarred, is a minute infraction on my personal rights, and you’d be right, but it seems to me that there is an underlying principle that seems to cause all wrongdoers to do wrong.  

And it isn’t any of those things the defense attorneys, the shrinks, or the Dr. Phils of the world say causes it. Because, my father left me in my youth, I’ve had more than my fair share of tragedy to overcome, and guess what, I’m 25, up to ass in school debt, and just trying to make it work out at the end of each month. But somewhere along the way, this asshole, excuse my language, decided that he was so hard up he needed to take from the perceived “haves” of the world? 

The true cause of the world’s demise…

I grew up in an idyllic world, I know that now. I grew up in a house that when we accidentally locked the front door once, I was elected to climb through the cracked bathroom window to let everyone in. I don’t think we even had keys to the doors in our house.

I grew up in the rural world. The place where when someone needed to pee, they stopped by, ran in, and told you about it at the basketball game on Friday night. I grew up in the place where people knew each other, talked to each other, talked about each other and while I ran away from that life, weary of “everyone knowing my name”, I understand now, why that is so important.

Without the checks and balances of the front porch neighborhoods, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Those annoying people that knew your business at all times, are the original neighborhood watch. Whether it is at the corner coffee shop where the old folks gather to discuss the rotten children of today, or on the corner stoop where the same thing happens, America, and the rest of the world, needs to emphasize the way of life that came from everyone knowing everyone’s business.

If you live in a glorified neighborhood with a homeowners association or in any town with zoning ordinances, you’ve all seen and dealt with the “covenants”.  The rules that tell you where your mail box has to be, what fences you are allowed to build, what flowers you can plant, what car you can drive (ok, kidding), and so on. They tell you what your neighborhood needs to look like, what perception you are trying to portray to the outside world.

Well, the newest covenant that needs to be put in place, is the requirement of front porches. Stop building garages in front to show off how many cars you can afford and put a porch in. Show the world that you plan to watch it go by. Make this world back into a place we all want to live.

Now, this may seem like an insane rant of a pissed off person who was recently robbed, and it is, but it is also a plea. A plea for sanity and common sense to be returned to the world, a plea for the world to recognize its’ loss of concern for the citizens that live in it, and a plea for the punk that stole my purse to return it.

To sum up, Cheers had it right, and for the asshole that stole my purse….life is short, the golden rule is always right, and karma’s a bitch. Enjoy the faux leather, I hope your girlfriend loves it. 

Ah Dating

So, I've decided to give this online dating thing another try. I guess there is a part of loneliness that no matter how many cats you collect can not be filled. Yes, I'm up to two cats. Not by choice mind you - I'm a sucker. When an ex moves away and can't take the cat, what to do? We did get the cat together, so I guess that makes me half responsible for the little pain in the ass's upbringing. However, that being said, now that I'm the full custody parent you think i'd be getting my monthly support checks. This little, ok, 20 pound cat is eating me out of house and home. Truthfully, he acts a lot like his father. Obviously too many weekends at dad's has ruined him as he acts like a complete dumbass 90% of the time, crying for attention and food, like I don't have anything better to do! And, like a good mother, I am constantly reminding him that daddy isn't sending any love and obviously it's his fault.

I digress.

So, I'm trying this online dating thing again. So far, only a few takers, which I blame on the other women which obviously either still believe in Glamour Shots or are much more adept at using Photoshop than I. However, I do have one email sitting in my inbox that I'm deciding on replying to. The thing is, and maybe this is just me, I'm not sure if he isn't too cute for me. And while I could pretend that I have the self esteem of Samantha, let's be honest, I don't have that bod or that record. So, what is too hot? He did approach me...so perhaps that provides some leeway. But - there is certainly a part of me that wonders: does he have some sort of fetish? Does he like short girls or ones with really big boobs? Wait, that's every guy. Ok, we're back to short. I'm no midget mind you - but I am severely height challenged. I'm the result of a 5'8" guy and a 5'2" woman. Let's just say the pedigree was working against me from day 1. I had a thought the other day while scaling my kitchen cabinets to reach the second shelf in the top cabinet - wow this will suck when I'm 80.

Anyway...

Here's the other thing with this inbox guy, who we're going to call Bret. Why Bret? Because he's in a tribute band for Poison. Yup, this guy dons a wig and dances around in tight 80's garb and sings Every Rose Has a Thorn. I guess he is at least adding the wig and not walking around daily in white rain styled bandanna held hair with eyeliner. Or at least I don't think so - I'll be sure to let you know if we make it to a date.