My, How Mighty the Changes Have (and Haven't) Been

Since I last posted five years ago, we had a child. We also moved. The quieter streets? Check. The big trees? Check. Less clutter? Check. Simpler life? Oh, fuck no.

If anything, having a child friendly home means more work. Oh, and the having a child thing, too.

When we got pregnant, we were in agreement not to find out Spawn's gender. I kept that agreement Spouse Unit did not. He went about secreting the information for a number of months and did not , to his credit, even inform his 'rents. It worked fine until one night when he came home drunk and he let it slip. We were about six weeks out from delivery it turned out. And with that the Worries started. The Worries are what I call the agonizing what-if's and crisis management play-by-plays that happen when you have a little bit of information, but not the whole story. In this instance it was knowing we were having a daughter and knowing that eventually the whole mother-daughter competition would inevitably unfold.

It is a natural stage of development for a teen going through puberty to rebel and compete against their same sex parent. If fathers and sons fight,  then mothers and daughters destroy the world. All hail, Armageddon. I am sooooo not looking forward to this eventuality. In fact, I'd rather have my toenails pulled out, my anus filled with lead and my eardrums pierced daily with a rusty icepick. Why? Because the thought of arguing with the person I love most in this life breaks my pea-pickin' heart.

Our identities ave changed. I am no longer the Child Bride, but Ninja Mom. Spawn is Baby Lady and Spouse Unit is now Captain Dad. Notice that my husband's and my new nicknames no longer revolve around our marital status, but around our roles as parents? Yeah, well, that's pretty much because like most married couples who have a small child, the marriage is non-existent. We are not divorced, but we really function more like college roommates sharing responsibility over a very hyper, very precocious and unreasonably cute war/cuddle machine. If Baby Lady is not there, the silences are long and painful. Somehow two people who used to b able to talk about anything now cannot even bring up the weather without the implications of age, regret, grievances and constant misunderstandings.

At least I know we are not alone in this. It is a real threat to new parents even those married nearly a decade like we were when we had Baby Lady. There were already chinks in our armor. That's natural with two lawyers who do not know how to pull punches, but it got worse as we experienced the pregnancy in very different ways. He got to keep his lifestyle and went out 3-5x a week without fail. I got to stay home, take prenatal supplements, plan a nursery by myself, research all the testing they do on older mothers and play with the Worries. By the time I was on bed rest, I had lost all trust for him to co-parent. It's not like he stayed home with me or was an equal in decision making. He went on about his life like nothing was changing and what I said did not matter. So, communication broke down more and we became wholly separate people with one common goal of parenting our child.

We are raising a fantastic child, but I wonder how much more fantastic she would be if we were not in a constant cycle of war and detente? I also wonder if my blood pressure would even out.... but that's another issue altogether.

So go back a year and we were very much heading towards divorce. It was announced between us. Him unhappy. Me free. We just had to wait to make it FB official until after our seasonal family and social obligations ended. I am not sure so much I chickened out as I am certain I chose my child's happiness and future over my own. All the gains I made in health and happiness before I decided to stay are slowly fading and I wonder how long I can keep it up. Hell, I still have the job I hate because that's what you do. You do for those you are responsible for first. Right? Fuck having any right to happiness and self-fulfillment. That's a goddamn fantasy world you're living in, Buck-O.

Anyhow, I digress. My original point is: though the window dressing is better, the interior is not. Don't buy into the "perfect" pictures and FB posts about wonderful family togetherness of your friends. I have found in my line of work it is all a farce to save face but also to avoid the Worries. The Worries will suck the life out of you and make an already difficult experience intolerable. So the first step to avoiding the state intolerability is to deny it exists. The second is to deny some more and the third is to deny even more. You will learn to grasp onto any small happiness and inflate it to cover the deficiencies. Eventually reality will either catch up with fantasy or it'll get so bad it doesn't really matter anymore. Ain't nobody getting out alive at that point.

We all, at some point, will start thinking that if we do this, change that that our overall lives and sense of happiness will improve. We are lying to ourselves. We are just trading one set of problems for a new set. That's exactly what adulthood and adult relationships are. So, suck it up or be a whiny bitch or be somewhere in between. That's teh only real choice you will get. Welcome to Adulting 101.

Spare

I had a blog post I was almost done with that I lost when the power blinked. Damn squirrels....

I had a girls' trip recently and saw a wooden vase that I fell in love with. Spare, turned from a solid piece of some exotic wood and inset with a piece of organically shaped turquoise where an imperfection had made a divot- it was something that I really admired. It was simple, handmade and done well. And I couldn't have it.

Sure, I had the money. Sure, I would have to bust my ass to get it on the plane without checking luggage (it was sorta big). But there was no way I could do it. I just didn't have a place in my exceedingly complicated life for it.

My home is full of oddities. Pre-Incan pottery? Check. Large fossils? Check. Neo-classical etchings? Quadruple check. Mummy mask (yes, real)? Check. And then there are all the other smaller oddities of alabaster, and wood, and silver, and pewter and things I'd rather not say including a pile of human molars (not mine).

My home may be interesting, but it is crowded. It is not a place to that gives one respite despite it's dark corners, large leather surfaces, rich colors, 63 degree ambient temperature or piles of books. It is a place of confusion- of both identity and placement- of needless consumerism or collections. It is more of a place of my husband than me.

I want light. I want more modern and spare. Fewer surfaces crowded with coolness and more devoid of the drama of competing ideas and times. I want a haven from the sheer madness which fills my working life.

I also want a new house. Not something needing 10 grand worth the new windows and that doesn't subject me to losing my entire Fall to the whims of the local university's football schedule.

I want quiet streets and no frat boy party houses. I want a place my dog is safe from wildlife and drunk drivers speeding down our streets. I want a place that would be good for kids. Not a place where they know how to avoid broken bottles and drunk footballers by the age of three like a veteran stripper in a dive bar.

This need for a less complex life is not new. It started a few years ago when I started reading about an upsurge in the Minimalist movement after 9-11. Folks who got back to basics and down sized. Who realized that they were working away their lives for naught. Having a big time job with big time hours and stress in order to have lots of neat shit and a big house and big car made little sense in terms of what made a quality life.

People and relationships did.

So these folks jumped off a cliff and made difficult choices. They changed up their routines, dumped the jobs that were killing their health and their relationships and went smaller. Some went as far as to get into micro-housing and others went rural, escaping the ruts of urban dwelling.

Me? I started cooking with fewer and fresher ingredients. I didn't have to have BAM! in every dish. I mastered the art of soup. It was simple, inexpensive and good for the soul. A day of making stock from scratch was worth the finished product. A few fresh vegetables and a pinch of salt and pepper were all that were really needed for a soul-satisfying meal. It's just after time, it became less satisfying.

I need more.

I need more of less.

I am looking for a different job. Not necessarily occupation, but job. Not one where I literally hate each day I wake up.

My trip was awesome in that way. I quickly figured out I missed the spouse unit and dog and couldn't wait to get back to get on with conception. I just didn't miss the job. My job sucks and though I am generally quite good at what I do, it sucks to fall into the game of making decisions for others because it carries over when I interact with my friends.

I find myself not being as supportive of my husband and pals as I should (i.e. just shutting the fuck up). I instead fall back on the safe place of telling people what to do or how they should do it. I am, in a sense, the worst backseat driver/know-it-all. I know it offends a few. Hell, it offends me that I do it. I just do it out a of a sense of constant care-taking. My way of showing caring is to be ham-handed as all git out instead of strictly cheerleader and the occasional voice of reason as a good friend, spouse, person should. It's a horrible side effect of what I do for a living. And it's yet another reason for me to job search.

So, in the coming months, I will be looking to make a change. A massive change or two. Not only with the conception thing which doesn't feel so massive to me, but in changing what has become, unwittingly, my identity. I have no business telling others how to live their lives when I am obviously doing a piss poor job of it in very personal regards.

I want a more spartan life with fewer responsibilities and less clutter. I think losing that baggage will make me more adept at the things that DO matter. It will also making the housecleaning a lot less time consuming....

If You Voted for Obama, You Got it Wrong

I have spent the better part of the last twenty months dealing with every pansy-assed-bleeding-heart-save-the-Muslim-feminist- vegan-whales type I know while somehow controlling my instinct to gut them viciously with a lid off a tin of Campbell’s soup. I have been successful. Barely. So can I just say it now? Pretty, pretty please?

I hate those fuckers.

They are the lowest common denominator in the Democratic party. They usually have a degree (or six- thanks, Daddy!), recently rushed out to replace their Volvo convertible with a hybrid, own two or more pairs of animal cruelty free shoes, an autographed copy of “An Inconvenient Truth”, and a recumbent bicycle. They eat organic from the organic only specialty shop where arugula is $9.00 a bag and Tofurkey is more easily obtained than a dozen eggs. They buy ink squid pasta and wear NorthFace outerware. In a word, they are pretentious.

They have self help books lining their shelves and burn incense and guys talk about their inner feminine side. The men cry and their hairy-legged women eat it up, and together they help continue the life-cycle of STI’s that infect said peace loving male’s uncircumcised manhood (and I say manhood, because it is *usually* the only way to tell the men from the women in these couples) while listening to Phish.

See- they’re into the latest fads and lack the depth to swim against the tide of popular culture. Twenty-five years ago it was Izod’s with the collars popped, leg warmers and Irene Cara. In the 90’s it was grunge and $90.00 flannel shirts blessed by Her Highness of the Five Fingered Discount, Winona Ryder. They bashed Bill for a blowjob, hated Bush because he has problems with Webster’s Dictionary and the autonomic function of swallowing. They rallied around TPM, DailyKos and MoveOn.org because they were hip “outsider” sites that preached the same things they believed- hate Bush and peace, love and Chlamydia rock (and not necessarily in that order).

They eschew personal responsibility and moderation. Frugality is not a trait they would admire in others. If it’s not Sean Penn and Wyclef Jean approved, it’s not cool in their world. And see, they’re different. They’re evolved because they voted for the guy with a funny name and kinky hair.

“He’s the smartest president ever.”

“He’s the One.”

“He will bring peace and light to the whole world.”

“He’s not politics as usual.”

“He’s a loving god….”

Yeah, well. He’s none of those things.

He’s a rat bastard. And yes, bastard in the truest sense of the word. Get over it. I certainly have. He’s a thug. He doesn’t win votes by being a better candidate with the better ideas, he wins elections through intimidation, blackmail, shame and by marketing himself more extensively than the Big Mac. As previously been said by many, many before me- There is no “there” there. Nothing original, nothing sacred and certainly, nothing deserving of the respect of other nations’ leaders when it comes to the delicate art of diplomacy. Stating prior to your election that you are for invading a sovereign nation and bombing their countrymen is something even Dubya didn’t do. I, for one, will always hold him responsible for Bhutto’s assassination if his sycophants won’t.

Look, he’s not bringing peace to the Middle East. His election seems to be doing quite the opposite, in fact. Just last week, Iran started testing some solid fuel missiles which have enough range to not only kill every Jew in Israel but also most of Europe, too. Coincidence? And Israel? They started lobbing bombs back and forth with Hamas like a Salvador Dali inspired game of Hot Potato. And just how many suicide bombings happened in Iraq and Afghanistan in the last two weeks? How about more than in the last several months…And all of this happened coincidentally since and despite The Messiah’selection. Jeesh. I thought he was “going to change it, and rearrange it???” Isn't that what they taught the little children to say?

So much for that theory, dumbasses.

There will not be any peace in the Middle East, and don’t even begin to think that Russia will be all nice and friendly to us just because The One decrees it. (Fuck, they hate black people, didn’t you know? Oh, wait. The part about the deeply rooted racist tendencies of Russia prolly wasn't covered by one of the three degrees you got from My Daddy’s Money U, huh?) Har fucking har. Medvedev won’t even acknowledge Obama or his election, and he and Putin are busy rattling sabers about the US missile defense shield all the while sending tanks to the Ukraine (AKA Georgia 2.0) and Poland. Plus, let's not forget Medvedev is on his merry little way to visit our BFF’s, Cuba and Venezuela. Oh, and betcha didn’t know Venezuela just nationalized (i.e. forcibly took over) the gold mines and handed them over to the Russians within the last three weeks, huh? Hmmm. Sounds pretty peaceful so far, huh?

And China…well, let’s say they’re just as friendly as the Russians with our enemies to our South. They own our asses and now they're moving into our territory. It's bad enough we've borrowed billions upon billions from the Chinese (and others) to bail out Obama’s corporate buddies, but do they have to come into our backyard, too, when we can hardly say "Boo!" to them?

And speaking of the massive debt and uncontrolled spending- it was bad enough that Dubya gave no bid contracts to his and Dick’s corporate sugar daddies, but the outright writing of blank checks for no real goods or services does seem a wee might more like theft to me. Someone tell me how the Democrats and Republicans are different again, please.

This also brings up a point I heard repeatedly by Obama supporters who couldn’t fashion any rational, logical and legitimate reason for supporting The One- he wasn’t Bush or a Republican. Well, jeez. That means so much in a picking leaders: they don’t have the Letter J after their name, so I can’t vote for him/her.

In all seriousness, what the fuck does a party designation have to do with the fucking price of tea in China?!? I understand hating Bush because god knows I do, but shoving a 20” dildo up your ass to spite your worst enemy doesn’t seem to be the brightest idea if you ask me. And beating up (literally and figuratively) those who are on the opposite side of an issue from you isn’t the most prudent course of action either. In fact, employing such tactics makes you every bit as bad as the Bushies, and worse in the sense that you have now become a hypocrite and really should have known better.

Obama has one plan and one plan only- find someone else to answer that 3:00 AM call while he’s busy getting his balls massaged by some patchouli wearing idiot chanting “Yes, you can! Yes, you can!” in a husky voice to him as he stares into a mirror admiring his own perfection.

I dunno. I just have zero faith in him. I have zero faith in a man who cannot show up for the funeral of his dead grandmother who raised him, bankrolled his education and never denied him during a time period where bi-racial children were never seen nor acknowledged. He was damn lucky to have a family that didn’t shun him and supported him and his cravings for power and acceptance. Like every family, I am certain they lacked perfection, as they did apparently love him and gave him everything they could save the most important thing needed in a leader- empathy.

Obama fakes it well enough in that evangelical, charismatic church (thanks, Rev. Wright!) kind of way, but he doesn’t have that gift of looking someone directly in the eye and connecting with their needs, their hurts, their fears. There is no good reason for him to be a leader other than the stroking his own ego and that's extremely troubling.

He will never get why a measured withdrawal from Iraq is necessary- then again, neither will the know-it-all peaceniks who can’t see that families in Iraq need our protection. Obama doesn’t get that affordable healthcare really is necessary to the survival of small business and the economy as a whole. He’s never had to be personally responsible for workers nor has he ever had to pay the huge medical bills that can result from a simple trip to the ER for a bad cut. He doesn’t get that taxes are already too high and that history shows that raising taxes in economic downturns like ours is not such a wise idea. He’s never gone hungry, never had his heat cut off in the dead of Winter, and never had to worry about whether he could afford to fix a thirteen year old car with bald tires and a bad radiator.

See, Obama is every bit a child of privilege like many of his supporters and the man that they hate so much they cut off our collective nose to spite our face. They pretend to “know” and to empathize but they don’t. Not really. They think working with your hands means you’re stupid and that you won’t get what their regressive tax policies mean to the bottom line. They think he’s too cool to be called on it, and they mistake healthy realism and criticism as racism because the truth be told, they are the stupid ones who only see the world through the prism of their Bob Dylan soundtracked world. They think peace comes from simply wishing it so. They forget that peace comes from having a big stick and knowing how to use it. Just ask Ron Jeremy, I bet he’s been in very few fights..... But most of all, they, in their pretension, forget that politics at it's most basic element isn't about winning or losing. It's about people and solving their problems.

They got it wrong. They just don’t know it yet.

As An Atheist I Find This Slightly Funny

Never gave too much thought to the image of Jesus. Possibly because I don't believe in a historical Christ. And then the one and only time I even considered it was when I was 8 years old, watching a "Good Times" rerun with Michael fighting with Florida about having the image of a black Jesus in the living room. At the time I took it to be more about racial identity than tailor making the image of your faith to your own liking.

Maybe it is as a simple as being comfortable and feeling gooey inside. I'll never know. The concept of faith is foreign to me.

148 Days....

That's all that is left between today and the release of the film treatment of one of my favorite books.

"The Watchmen" has been in pre-production for nearly twenty years. Passed from one film company to the next. Directors signing on and falling off in rapid succession. Casting run amok. It's been worse than a comedy of errors. It's been torture for its legion of fans who have read and re-read well-worn and dog-eared copies until the spines fall apart and must be taped together.

But finally. Finally it's coming.

I was excited when Terry Gilliam was signed on a number of years ago. So when it went nowhere, I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact Hollywood would never get around to this book because it was too big, too deep and way too dark. Actors had to be chosen who got the nuances of the characters. Prop production and set design had to reflect the moodiness of the individual frames of the novel. We're not talking about a few plastic palm trees and a boombox ala Heidi and Spencer. We're talking about exacting shadows falling. Seizing the moment of a scene and recreating it's violence and suspense.

Look, I'm not a Comic Con dork. Shit, I hate Star Trek (although I do admit to actually watching a whole episode on one solitary occasion and it was during sex with this RA I dated in college). I'm not a comic book geek by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just someone who fell in love with one of the most complicated stories of our times.

It encompassed the whole range of philosophical studies. It touches on violence and perpetuating cycles through child abuse. And narcissism and cynicism.... It touches on the failures of middle age and old age and regrets and lies and secrets and past loves still so real one's heart aches for what seems eternity.

It's about parents and children, and cops and robbers and selling one's soul for materialistic and egotistical reasons. Hell, it talks about what a soul is. Is it the body? The mind? Or is it the heart and all it desires?

It talks about trust and government and free will and compromise. It touches on absolutes and though how noble they may be how they can cost you your life.

Anyhow, I doubt the director and actors and stage hands will get this one right, but god I hope they do. I hope it's better than "V for Vendetta" and truer to the spirit of the book.

There are few books that have that much heart and soul and it'd be a shame to see this one fucked up.

Here's the trailer. I think the music works...

Disgust

It's not often I find myself just shaking my head in total disgust but now is one of those times.

I spent last evening chatting up an old friend and his wife on the night of their second anniversary. He and I share a birthday and so we've always had a quite amicable and conversational quality to our friendship. We share a few drinks, occasionally dinner, but mostly we share stories and voice our fears and talk about house repair.

The topic last night- his and the wife unit's plans for the future. Like myself and my hubby, they're trying to make a little bambino. The wife is a lovely woman who's from Columbia. She had a pretty cool life back home partying with politicians, and celebrities and sports stars while running her own small business. Had she not met my friend, she would have returned home from her US vacation and continued on her merry little way none the wiser about this great guy here. Fortunately for them both, they met, had a whirlwind romance and were married within a matter of a couple of months (she extended her tourist visa). Life has been good and it's clear they love each other and have a great time traveling and sailing when they can.

I asked the wife about what the differences between her home country and the US were- and her answer was pretty much what I expected. Money and quality of housing, cars, etc. is great here, but we're too busy keeping up with the lifestyle and all we do is work, work, work. Of course, this is all to the detriment of the things that are really important- family and friends. She misses her family most of all. When she visits, they laugh, they eat, they drink, they dance and they give themselves fully to one another. There- it's okay to be late to work. It's okay to enjoy a good conversation rather than make an important meeting.

It's understood.

Up until that conversation last evening, I had spent much of my day ruminating on what is going on with two couples with whom we are friends. Both couples are divorcing. One due to the husband's violence and secret drug use. The other- well let's say trading alcoholism and gambling for AA might save your life, but it won't save your marriage especially when you take all the fancy electronics, empty the accounts and disappear on your very scared husband without a single word.

Both marriages died within the last week. Our friends are divorcing. One with kids, the other sadly, without. Maybe if there had been children, they could have worked it out. And us, we just had seven years.

Seven years of constant fighting, bickering, threats and non-existent apologies. Most of our friends made bets on how long we'd last. No one won. All of them underestimated the tolerance for pain we each have and our mutual tendency of avoiding things. That and we laugh.

I mentioned to hubby we should move to this little island off the coast of South America. Of course he said "No." His excuse is his parents. They're in their 70's and have each had significant health problems in recent years. He won't leave them. But even if he didn't have to worry about them, he still wouldn't leave. His roots are too deep. And that's a problem for me.

I look at our country and see something absolutely flawed to its very core. I see a country in decline. Not that we don't love our country, but we live in a culture that debases intelligence and encourages mediocrity. Athletics are worth more points than the ability to comprehend something more difficult than Harry Potter. And because of that, the current crop of kids and future generations are doomed to fail.

Frankly, they're stupid. They're little cultists. Seeing this one college girl in Ohio talk about voting absentee this week for Barack Obama (imagine a light skinned black girl with a Valley Girl voice talking about how "Awesome!" it is to get to vote for Obama in Ohio) made my stomach sour. She couldn't spell the word Constitution, but she thought voting for him was "Awesome!" complete with the little head shake.

She didn't have enough brain cells to comprehend voting isn't about picking who should be prom king, but about hiring someone for an incredibly difficult job. Let me put it this way, would you hire a guy who has never lifted the hood of a car to give you a valve job? Or hire someone who has never turned on a computer to write software? Yeah. It's that kind of thing. But hell, I expect too much. That fucking kid has never held a job. Her parents paid her way through life and now she has no concept of what real life is. I expect too much from her. She doesn't get th concept of "To whom much is given, much is expected." She has no fucking clue.

Real life is taxes, and mortgages, and sending loved ones off to a war zone. These brats don't get there are repercussions for bad decisions. You don't get to buy more life credits or hit the reset button.

Their parents have been too busy working to pay for cellphones, Ipods, laptops, Burning Man trips, Summer Abroad programs to actually parent. They have no energy to tell little Susie that "No, it's not okay to fuck your boyfriend under our roof." Or tell little Johnnie that he's not allowed to throw a tantrum in Applebees. Parents feel so guilty about working all the time that they schedule their kids to death with soccer games and basketball tournaments because then they are giving their kids everything they didn't have and it makes them feel less guilty since kiddo is getting everything, but at the same time-get this: they no longer have to actually parent. Sure, they may be on the sidelines, but the person really supervising their kid is the one with a stopwatch and a whistle. Mom and dad are but mere chauffeurs and we all know deep down how we detest the help in our society. No wonder their kids don't respect them. They are the bill paying equivalent of the towel boy at the Bellagio.

Nice houses, and nice cars, and fancy flat screen TV's and X-Box 550's or whatever aren't worth the missed time around the dinner table, family picnics, dorky bike rides in matching track suits or just screaming at each other like most good red-blooded Americans do. Our society doesn't raise good citizens. It raises holy terrors who are self-absorbed little shits.

And society cannot sustain itself or our democracy with that kind of bullshit. I think it's time to call this little experiment here in North America a failure.

Hypocrites 101

My local favorite grocery store sold out to an inferior chain. To put it plainly, it's now a nasty Homeland. The prices have doubled, the meat sucks, the seafood department smells like Kevin Federline's cooch and the store is actually dirty. I swear even the carts sucked overnight. So now, I shop at Wal-Mart.

Like 100 million other Americans I now shop at Wal-Mart. It's huge, it's crowded but I dare say it's cleaner than Homeland and the prices are much better. I'm a sell-out to some but fuck 'em, they don't pay my bills and they don't have to put up with the nastiness of the other stores.

Now, I can put up with only so much bullshit. I make fun of fat people, and the infirm and even the kids of questionable ancestry and/or gender. I figure it's my right given what I have to put up with in my job every day. I even drive a minivan now. Yep. A minivan. I've even got McCain stickers on it and Air Supply in the CD player. I'm not ashamed. I'm a 30 something Midwesterner with a minivan *groan*. But as much as I am a bitch I am also a very considerate person when it comes to being in public. I only burp in beer bars where it is expected. I say "Happy Holidays" to everyone, chat up toll road cashiers, wish the McDonald's cashier a good day and I mean it. Damnit. I'm nice. I even put up my shopping cart into the appropriate cart return even if it's a half mile away and 100 degrees outside.

So Saturday morning, I get up. The sun is shining. It's a gorgeous day, it's 8:30 A.M. and I don't have a hangover. At this point, I'm in a good enough mood that I would have bought Karl Rove a blowjob from his own mother. I get through Wal-Mart. It's not too crowded, I'm there for less than 30 minutes from park to finish. The lady in the SUV next to me is loading her groceries in at the same time. She has a soccer mom sticker, and the sticker for a Christian private school on her back bumper. She's tanned, waxed and bleached. In other words, I would hate her on any given day, but not today. Today, I am in the best mood ever.

So I finish unloading my groceries and run the cart to the return just on the front side of her SUV. She finished at the same time so I was surprised to hear her car start up and see her pull out ahead of me. Then I see why.

Bitch had left her cart up next to my van.

That stooopid cunt couldn't walk ten feet to the front of her car to put the damn cart inside the metal rails.

I was livid. I was mortified that this bitch would be so inconsiderate to other drivers with their expensive ass gas guzzlers as to place a potential hazard in their way. And me... she left her cart six inches from the nose of my van.

I get back in my van, bitch at my spouse at what she had done and then he points out what I couldn't place- she had Christian pop music on the highest setting. She was rocking out to Amy Grant and thinking she was better than everyone else for it.

I slammed my car into reverse and followed her out. I contemplated aloud stalking her back to her house and confronting her. Or better yet- driving by slowly for two weeks.

Then I said fuck it. Gas is too expensive, picked up a some hotcakes and sausage and went home to mow my yard.

If I do ever see that bitch again, I will lecture her on common courtesy and how she is a hypocritical bitch. I hope her kids are there and I'm wearing my "Jesus is a Homo" shirt. Let her explain what that is to Caleb and Shante. Then let her explain how she's not a homo when they catch daddy giving it to her in the ass.

I fucking hate hypocrites.

Howie and Donna Suck Donkey Dicks

Well, it's all I could think of. The fight is out of me at the moment. Not that I am not pissed at how they are fudge packing the Democratic Party ('cos I am and they are), but because it was a long week. And it's sorta redundant to keep pointing out what tools they are.

I defended Dean here a long while back, but over the last 15 months, I have seen that vertically challenged mutherfucker snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Not forcing Bwak to re-do Michigan pisses me off. Hell, re-doing it pisses me off. Hillary won that shit fair and square. Dumbass cocksucker decided to pull out (like I wish his drunk-o daddy would have done instead of conceiving that pencil-necked mutherfucker). Bwak didn't have to get off the ballot, he chose, too. And took Edwards with him.

Poor fucking Edwards. I sorta like the guy even if he is a bit too pretty. I'm a chick and I feel like I could assfuck him. A little lube, a short reach around (and I do mean short) and a word of encouragement like "Oh, your ass is so tight on my strap-on" or 'I'll love you forever" and you know he'd be squealing like Pam Anderson riding on Tommy Lee.

My main complaint on Edwards was his being a bit late to the Progressive Beer Pong Party. His positions were 180 degrees from four years ago and like the GOP wouldn't get out their beach footwear again. You bet your life that flip-flop company stock would triple in August.

I like Hillary. I think she's got the goods. I promise this though:

If Bwak steals this nomination, if his 'bots riot or threat to riot to get this nomination- I promise you I will not only vote for McCain, but will campaign for him and donate money. He's not nearly as dirty as that Chicago-styled dipshit delaing Hopium to the masses.

Seriously.

I hate Bwak with an infinite passion. I didn't at first, but I hate his pissant little supporters so much that there is no way I'd fucking link arms with those turd burglars and sing Kumbayah. I'd rather assfuck Breck Girl.

I Like These Broads

I miss Ann. I'm glad we still have Hillary. And fuck you Obamabots. In the ass.

What Was Wrong With the 80's