In Case You Were Wondering.....

Being a woman does not make me less than a man.

I will not submit to you. I don't care if you are a woman or a man.

I will not jump if you want something to drink or eat or anything else. I will step quickly and with motivation if you need toilet paper...simply because you not having any grosses me out though you probably deserve to go without it.

I am not your bitch. I am not your slave. I am not your super woman....though I do have the power to cuss a blue streak and piss off everyone in my immediate vicinity - which I have displayed on many occasions.

I will not use the excuse "I can't because I'm a girl."...and if I hear you trying to teach that crap to my daughter again, I will forget that you are my husbands mother and let you have it....we've spoken about this before. I will not "speak" to you about it again.

I don't want to hear you snickering while I'm splitting wood. Granted, I probably look ridiculous doing it, but that's not what you're snickering about. You're snickering because you think it's funny that I'M splitting splitting wood....but I'd bet my bottom dollar that you'd have something to say if I didn't.

Do not make me feel like the bad guy when my children need to be disciplined.

Do not make snide remarks when I put my dishes in the dishwasher instead of washing them by hand.

Do not give my side long glances when I hang my clothes up or put them in the dryer. If I do it one way, you think it should be done another.

Don't play the poor suffering woman with me. You're a manipulative old bat that's tough as shoe leather.

To be clear...there's basically one thing you're allowed to do when you come to my house....

LEAVE.

Just Because I Have To

Okay, I'm coming clean.

I'm an insurance salesman - a couple of you know this....

No, I'm not kidding.

Do you want to know one of the problems with being an insurance agent? NO? Tough shit, I'm telling you anyway. Everyone automatically thinks you're lying...and do you know why that is? Because many insurance salesmen do...at least in my experience. I can name 5 insurance agents that I know are honest....I won't tell you how many I know that aren't because it would depress you and send you running for an insurance quote and there would be so many calls that the phone lines would blow up (sounds like I'm flattering myself with the amount of readers...but you know what I meant, don't be difficult)

I will tell you this though. I work for an honest agent. I targeted him when I sent out my resume a couple of years ago because I knew via the grapevine that he was honest, I got lucky, and he hired me.

Now, I know that a lot of you hate the insurance man because you think he's always jerking your chain. You think he's always trying to take you money over some silly shit...always trying to sell you something. ------------that's just a whole other venting session -------------------


When I wrote your policy - you walked out of my office with my personal cell phone number in your hand. I made it clear you were not to call me with questions on your bill. It was an emergency number only. A number reserved for those "OH FUCK ME WITH BILL CLINTONS STINKY TOOL" moments. You wrecked your car? CALL ME. Your house caught fire? CALL ME. You just got an enema? WIPE YOUR ASS and don't eat any whole grains for a while.

I take care of my clients, and I take care of Bossman's clients. That's what I do....but do you know what really pisses me the off?

1 - LONG TERM CLIENTS. Yes, that's right. They fucking piss me off. WHY? Because they always think that because they've been with the company forever and a day they should be able to pay whatever price they want to pay. Yeah. Fuck off.

Insurance is a business like any other business and the prices go up. It's reality, accept it and drive the fuck on. You know the good old days when your insurance went down? Yeah, that doesn't happen much these days, so you can pretty much kiss that shit good-bye, and lick your lips, because that's probably the last taste of that you'll be getting. Inflation goes up - not down....and I don't see the average american's utility bills going down every month...so why in the fuck should your insurance go down hhhmmmmmmmmm?

"Why Mr and Mrs Jones! I see that you aren't using very much electricity these days, why don't we cut your unit cost from 1.00 to .75 for being such a long term client but not actually using our services."

I want to know how many of you actually have had that call happen.

2 - Clients that call me screaming when their rates go up because of the DUI, Reckless Driving, Suspended Lic. and 3 at fault accidence's they've had, have made their rates go up. Think you dumb shit. WHHATTT TTHHHEEE HHEEELLLLL DDDDDOOOO YYYYYOOOOOUUUUUU TTTTHHHHHIIIIIINNNNNNNNNKKKKKK IS GGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAA HHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNN? I'm not going to call you and tell you that it's gonna be okay and verbally hold your hand and console you because you're fucking stupid AND I'm not gonna take your fucking abuse for your rates going up either. Hit the fucking road ass-munch. I don't get paid to get yelled at, be talked shitty to, to be intimidated (like that happens)or receive snide remarks from you - you walking batch of genital herpes.

3 - Clients who call me and threaten to "shop around" if I don't lower their rates. Fuck you. Go shopping. You want to go somewhere else? Then fucking go. You're threatening me and talking ugly to me, and it isn't conducive to me going out of my way to do shit for you...........not that I can do shit about your rates any damn way. That shit comes down from Regional. I'm all willing to go to bat for you if I don't see any reason for them to go up (mistakes do happen)...(if I do see reason for them to go up...please see above) but if that's the premium, then that's the premium. I can't pull something out of my ass to make you happy, and odds are, anything that I did pull out of my ass...wouldn't make you happy...so you're just SOL all the way around aren't you?




I actually have some really great clients. Some know me well, and some don't....but regardless of which...I'll do my best for you as long as you treat me with common courtesy and respect, but don't expect me to work a friggin miracle - especially when you're a screwed up driver with a bad attitude and bad credit.

I wrote this while very upset. I was a good girl and read over it a bit and deleted the word "Fuck" 7 times. You're stuck with the rest of the fucks because I thought they were good where they were...no pun intended.

You Always Told Me It Built Character

Why don't you just shut up.

I'm so damn sorry your leg hurts, but what the fuck do you want me to do about it?

Should I pour on the sympathy? I get sick of that really quick you know....and you're worse than the kids with you whining sometimes - you know that?

I didn't see you feeling bad for me when I had tendinitis from my ankle to my hip and could barely walk.

I didn't see you feeling to terribly bad for me when I broke my poor little pinkie toe and I hobbled around for a bit.

I didn't see you feeling bad for me when I had multiple hairline fractures thru my feet and legs and was in a lot of damn pain.

I didn't see you feeling bad for me when I was at home with the kids and ALL of us had a nasty stomach virus. You went to work and left me at home to take care of everyone - vomit and diarrhea all around. You just fucking left me there feeling like death to take care of everyone - including myself.

...and now you want me to take care of you. AWWW. Poor baby.

Suck that shit up and drive on.

I don't feel bad for you.

Take some Extra Strength Tylenol and go away.

I have two children, not 3.

....and make your own damn Dr.'s appt. You have 2 - two - cell phones. Pick one of those bad boys up and make your own fucking appointment. I have a job too.

Things That Just KILL Me - aka ANAL RUBS

I have a few things I need to get off my chest - and I'm not talking about my boobs.

I haven't had a good rant in a while and I'm do - so shut your trap about it.

First - Why in the hell didn't somebody tell me that eating healthy would make me fart so damn much? I'm not talking about a little "poot" here and there - saying I "poot" would imply that they are somehow lady like and non-offensive. No so I'm afraid - I'm talking I can blow the windows out of a vehicle with bullet proof glass. I get around on my own jet propulsion. I don't have to buy as much gas because MY gas is a suitable substitute once liquefied (now if that isn't a sick thought I don't know what is). I'm loosing friends. I'm using WAYYYY to much air freshener...and it doesn't even really work - my office smells like a shitty spring breeze and you don't EVER want to go into the bathroom here because it seems I'm always just coming out of that bad boy and the walls have mysteriously turned from white to green - but I'm not claiming responsibility for that. - I'm blaming you.

Second - The cats around my house....AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.

I love cats. Really I do, but I'm gonna kick some kitty asses. Granted - I was the dumb ass that left my windows down the other night so the kitty could get in my car. BUT THE FURRY LITTLE BASTARD DIDN'T HAVE TO SPRAY IN MY CAR. I had a meeting with several other people in offices all around the state and I smelled like cat ass....and the first person who laughs and tells me I smelled like a Pussy is going to get the stomping of their life. I guess I'm lucky cause nothing makes a good impression like stink lines and and the odor of cat ass.

Third - You people are some twisted fucks you know that? No, really, you are. I'm not kidding. There is no way I could count the times that people have clicked on my link when they google NIKKI THE NEXT DOOR PORN or some such shit. Apparently, there's a very popular on-line porn chick named Nikki, and I can tell you, this girl is LLLLOOOOVVVVVEEEEDDDD. I have also been found by someone who googled hairy armpits, people who are looking for the advantages and disadvantages of having CURVES, and some poor dumb shit who is apparently stressing out because her baby keeps sticking his tongue out and she wants to know how to stop it. Who ever you are lady, you really need to chill the hell out. If your BABY is sticking out his tongue and you are stressing out over that - you're gonna have a friggen break down when he blows chunks all over your new white shirt. Take some Valium and get back to parenting already - your kid will thank you.

Forth - Don't send me an email full of questions and then call me and ask me all the questions you just sent me before I can respond to you. HOLY SHIT. DON'T DO THAT AGAIN. I mean really. What's the fucking point of doing both? Do one or the other for Pete's sake. Try not to show the world that you're a dumb ass humm?

Fifth - I finally flipped out today in traffic. I let a dumb bitch in traffic and the little trick didn't even wave her thanks. After sitting in a traffic jam for 90 mins, and only going 8 miles, I had had it. I pulled up beside her - motioned for her to roll down her window and proceeded to education her tarty ass in some fucking driver courtesy. That little bitch. I was nice enough to let her in, she can be nice enough to throw her bright pink claws in the air to say thank you - that is - if she can wave and pop gum and the same time - the stupid little shit.

Sixth - Why in the hell don't people around here know that when another driver flashes their lights at them it could mean a couple of things - turn your lights on - or the most obvious one - THERE IS A COP UP AHEAD! SLOW DOWN OR YOU WILL GET A TICKET. Okay, I have to be fair, some people do know what it means, and 2 or 3 of them have actually waved thanks...but do you know what really kills me?????

I was flashing my lights at on coming traffic on a sunny morning to alert them to a cop up ahead, got waves of appreciation from a few, when the DUMB BITCH IN FRONT OF ME SLAMMED ON HER BRAKES!!!!!!! Now, I wasn't tailgating her - she was a good 7-8 car lengths in front of me (AND SHE HAD PASSED THE COP TOO!!!!!!) and apparently she got upset that I was flashing my lights at her. ... ... What a stupid bleach blond bitch. I told her oh so nicely that if I had been flashing my lights at her - I would have been riding her ass and not giving her so much space in front of me...and then I had to explain why I was flashing my lights. OMG.

I fucking HATE women drivers. Women seem to be so much more in tune with the popular TV shows, trendy fashion, and where the best sales are on cute shoes...but are friggin oblivious - OBLIVIOUS to the rules of the road and driver courtesy.

BITE MY ASS AWARD

It's not often I present this award. As a matter of fact, this is only the second time I have done so, but I feel that it has been earned.

I ran into a girl I used to work with this morning. We were never the best of friends, but we got along alright in the office environment of big corp. company I used to work for.....translation: I left her alone, she left me alone, and we greeted each other occasionally and laughed at something together a couple of times.

We saw each other and stopped to chat a bit and somehow, someway, she brought up that she thinks I'm heartless.

"No shit." I said snickering "What makes you say that?"

"You remember So-and-So?"

"Yeah"

"When we found out she had cancer, you just shook your head and said it was to bad for her kids and then you walked away."

"Well, it is to bad for her kids. I don't see how expressing my sympathies for her kids make me heartless." I admit it, I was chuckling at her logic thus far.

Turns out, because I didn't chip in and send her flowers, and write a mushy message on a card I was heartless.

"Uh-huh. Look. I know you guys liked her, and that's all well and good for you. But I knew her better than you guys did considering I worked more closely with her - as in the same country! and I picked up more than my fair share of her work that she slacked off doing because she was a lazy piece of shit. I never liked her, and wasn't going to make all nicey-nicey with her when I found out she had cancer, just because she had cancer. I felt and FEEL bad for her two girls because it's gotta be a hard thing when you're mom's sick like that, especially since they were so little and probably didn't understand a thing about what was going on....but I'm not going to be a friggin hypocrite and send her messages of love while she's sick when I couldn't stand her when she was well. If that makes me heartless, then what the fuck ever."

Girl I Used To Work With is obviously offended by what I had to say. "You know she died don't you." This pissed me OFF. She was clearly trying to take me to task by telling me in the way she told me. Hand on hip, eyebrows making a V in her forehead, eyes narrowed. She wasn't letting me know friend to friend, she was trying to put me in my place.

"No I didn't know she died. I DO feel sorry for her daughters. It's gonna be very hard for them to grow up without a mom and if I could do something for them I would, BUT - regardless of whether or not she died - I still didn't like her, and while I don't like speaking ill of the dead, I'm not going to suddenly profess to be her best friend and sing her praises either. I can see that you're getting pissed and offended by what I have to say, that's just to bad for you and I don't give a fuck. Get the fuck over it." I walked away, and that was the end of the conversation.

Because of this conversation - trying to guilt me into mouthing words of friendship and respect I didn't feel...I would like to present to Girl I Used To Work With the BITE MY ASS AWARD. Frame it and hang it baby.

Have a nice day.

I Said This Too

The whole Pledge of Allegiance thing is really twirling around my brain. (see comments - previous post). If this is not a subject that is interesting to you - aka - you don't give a shit - please click the "NEXT BLOG" button and get the fuck off my blog. This is my blog - my space - and I can damn well say what I please.

I am at a loss at how - EXACTLY HOW - can saying or hearing The Pledge or hearing the National Anthem bother or pissoff any American?

There are MILLIONS of people every year that break their ass trying to get here or stay here because we DO live in the greatest country on the face of Earth. We have more freedoms, more rights, more liberty, more opportunity than any other nation. People from other countries may bash us, but remember - it's the people from other countries that are trying to get here.

I am a Veteran. I was in the Army. I jumped out of helicopters and worked hellishly long hours in constant training to make sure that if the need were ever to arise, I could protect your family and mine...I could help protect our country. My job in the military was telecommunications, I was signed for MILLIONS of dollars worth of equipment, I carried the M16, the SAW (an automatic weapon), the M60 (the bigger version of the SAW). I have numerous awards and plaques from my service and I am PROUD of them. I am PROUD to be a Vet. I am PROUD to be an AMERICAN.

As soldiers, ALL of us had to train to understand and know what to do in case of Nuclear, Biological or Chemical attack. We were trained on how to give buddie aide - meaning, if a fellow soldier was hurt - shot - or maimed - we would all knew how to help him with some basic medical knowledge so that he/she WOULDN'T DIE.

I missed my daughters first steps doing what my country called me to do. My husband missed my daughters first steps doing what our country called him to do - he left and she wasn't even crawling - he came back and she was running - leaving me to be a full time, working, military, single/married mother in a forgeign country where I didn't know anyone and had no support. My brother left his infant son when he was barely 2 months old - missing first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first Birthday, first steps, first tooth, first word, to do his SECOND tour in Iraq doing what his country called him to do. How many soldiers have left home to fight to protect us? How many soldiers have died? How many soldiers have to listen to demoralizing bullshit about people bashing what they are doing?

Don't pull that bullshit on me about how you're upset with what's going on in Iraq because all the people are dying and that's why you're against it - cause I don't want to fuckin hear it.

Do you know why they are dying? The are dying to keep us safe - your family - my family - ALL of us. They are puttin their families on hold - their everyday lives on hold - putting their lives on the line to keep another 9/11 from happening. Don't belittle the sacrifices these soldiers make by saying "Thanks but no thanks" - why don't you fucking hit them instead - I'm sure they would probably take that better than being snubbed in such a petty, shitty, condescending way.

Don't sling that mass media crap at me about how we aren't being effective and doing what we need to be doing. Go here,and here and it will tell you what's really going on over there.

For fucks sake - when you hear the National Anthem - when you hear about amber waves of grain, purple mountains majesty and fruited plains from sea to shining sea - your heart should be damn near to bursting from the love that you feel because THAT IS America - that is where we live. When you see the flag waving lazily in the breeze, or popping in a sharp wind - BE THANKFUL - be PROUD.

You will never, EVER hear me say war is a pretty thing, and I wish to GOD - HOW I WISH! - that we didn't have to be there - but I believe in what we are doing - I believe in us. I believe that we can make things better and safer for us and for them - not by forcing our culture on them - but removing the crap from the fundametalist bastards that has been forced onto them.

It frankly disgusts me that someone - ANYONE - can't even bring themselves to say The Pledge of Allegiance - or cringes when they hear the National Anthem. That's just a bunch of shit. PERIOD - and if you think otherwise, please feel free to delete my link and don't fucking bother me again with shitty comments. I'd really rather not have you here.

You can disagree with the politics of the Nation, you can disagree with the wars (Iraq and Afghanistan) and you can disagree with any fucking thing that you want - but if you disagree with THE PLEDGE....then get your sorry ass out of my face.

Yeah, I Said It

Yeah, the comments were gettin ugly on that last post, so I turned them off.

The whole point of the post I think was missed.

I was meant to be a humorous jibe at what a difficult and low paid job teachers have and how they are not allowed to pray in school for guidance on a particularly horrible day (ie - dear powers that be, please keep my hand from stabbing this kid in the eye with this pencil - or - oh no, here comes Little Johnnie's mom - please grant me patience so I don't tackle her at the knees) or even thank the powers that be on a good day (ie - whew! sure am glad that kid moved - or - I sure am glad I don't have to go to that stupid meeting).

BUT! Since the subject was broached, I'm going there.

I do believe in the separation in church(or mosque or temple) and state, but I also believe that it should be okay to pray OUT LOUD in school regardless of your religion.It shouldn't be a problem because most of the worlds population believes in a higher power of some sort.

Whether you believe in GOD - no matter what language we worship him in, there shouldn't be a fucking problem with loving him. There also shouldn't be a fucking problem if you believe in GODS or anything else.

The issue here with me is this.....

If we believe in a higher being, why shouldn't we be allowed to show our love for him/her/them - as long as there is no sacrificing/mind control/torture/moral problems/etc.

I don't believe in pushing religion of any type down anyone's throaght - it's all about letting us do our own individual religious thing.

Why is there such a problem with this?

What in the fuck is wrong with people? Are we all so damn narrow minded that we can't accept what other people believe? It's not a matter of embracing everyone's beliefs, it's not even entirely about understanding them, it's having the the fucking decentcy to embrace people for who they are, regardless of how/who they worship.

YOUR approval, MY approval - it's not fucking needed.

I was just talking to Bossguy about this and he said that back in the day, it was a mandatory part of the day for the teachers to read a passage out of the bible, pray out loud and say the Pledge of Allegiance.

I can totally see how this would bother someone who is Jewish, or Muslim, or Buddist etc. - with the exception of the Pledge of Allegiance. (I do believe the phrase UNDER GOD should stay btw. - I can't see how this would bother anyone - unless you're atheist - and you can just skip that part)

Comments are open on this post. Come be a bigoted asshole - Please.

It's Either Prayin or Cussin - you pick

Someone emailed this to me and I just had to post it:



After being interviewed by the school administration, the teaching prospect said, "Let me see if I've got this right:

"You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.

"You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.

"You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.

"You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial
behavior, and make sure that they all pass the state exams.

"You want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.

"You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps.

"You want me to do all this and then you tell me...

"I CAN'T PRAY?"

GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We now have four adults, 4 children ages 8,6,4, and 17 months, 2 goldfish, 2 hermit crabs, 3 dogs and 4 cats in my house. Oh, correction, make that 2 cats (one is mine, one is Stinky and Redhead's). It seems that Charles treated our 2 Tom cats as furry little footballs last night. Punted them right off the back porch, and he kicked one so hard that one even landed on the grill (or actually slid down the lid). Then he showed true man wisdom by telling me about it.

I won't even go into the "conversation" that ensued. Let's just say that he won't be doing that again because he wants his testicles to stay attached to his body. I'm still mad...seething actually.

I know some of you may find this funny when you visualize the cats flying through the air with stunned expressions on their faces and then hearing the "THUNK" of one of them as he made contact with the grill. Rest assured, I don't find that shit in the least bit funny.

My poor kitties. I love my cats - treasure them even. I even had a cat rattle when I was a baby. Me and cats are a package deal. If you don't like cats - then you can pack your shit and go 'cause I'm gonna have me a kitty...PERIOD. I let them sleep on my pillow and pet them in my sleep... SHUDDUP.

Both of the kitties that Charles scored a goal with just showed up at my house one night. The first tom cat (who we ingeniously named TOM - a beautiful tabby cat) came out briefly from underneath the house today and I was able to check him out. He didn't seem any worse for wear. I'm sure his ribs are a bit sore and I'll be taking him to the vet to be checked out as soon as I can coax him in the cat carrier. I was foiled in my attempt to do that today when Charles came out on the back porch and the cat saw him. Apparently, it was to much for Tom (flashback for him I guess...like a bad trip on acid...or so I hear), and he beat all four feet getting the hell out of dodge. Can you blame him? I shot Charles the stinky eye and shoved him, and I don't mean I shoved him in any playful sort of way either.

The other tom cat - black as pitch (we thought about naming him "Midnight", but that name has been done to death, "Turd" had also crossed my mind but I didn't want Lauren going to school telling her friends that she pets her Turd, so we named him Night, which very quickly changed to Night-Night)and looooves to eat. He came to the edge of the yard (about 20-30 yards away) and sat there looking at me and slunk away when I called him. I'm guessing he's the one that became intimately acquainted with my grill...what do you think?

In my house, there are a few things that are just sacred. ONE - my animals. TWO - Charles' Nascar races. THREE and FOUR - don't pertain to this conversation.

There will be a reckoning, you can bet your sweet ass on that. NO ONE TOUCHES MY ANIMALS. I have this funny feeling that all his Nascar races are going to be deleted from the DVR, ALL VHS tapes will be erased and his fucking #3 Dale Earnhardt throw cover is going to mysteriously disappear, along with his favorite Nascar mug, his sorry ass Nascar collectible bullshit that is collecting dust sitting on top of the mirror of my dresser,the fucking latch hook Nascar Checkered flag I've been doing for him, and just for fun, I will purge all traces of "Adult Entertainment" from this house just to piss him off. He will tune into his race next week to find that I have locked his sorry ass out of it and only I have the password. I'm also going to screw around with his Nascar bullshit that he keeps on line.

Oh yeah, I'm a pissed bitch. You just don't treat animals that way. He WILL learn.

Oh, and I'm sure you are wanting to know why he kicked the kitties....we finished cleaning out the den late last night and found that one or both of them (definately not the other one.."Jezebel" we call her "Jazz" - she's very skitish and won't go anywhere in the house except for my bedroom)had crawled into a couple of the boxes and used them for a litter box. We also found a couple of piles of kitty poo one on some folding chairs and one on his very expensive golf bag that he never uses. One of the boxes that was treated with such malice was family pictures...some of those are baby pictures of Lauren that had been blown up AND FRAMED and they can't be replaced. We had some of them professionally done. I'm hoping the frames afforded some protection, I'll be taking a look later in the week. I just can't bring myself to look right now.

To be honest, I'm pissed about it myself, but that doesn't excuse his behavior as far as I'm concerned.

Maybe I wouldn't be so pissed if he had taken the cats and showed them what they had done and put them outside or whatever, but he just went into the bedroom, snatched the cats off the bed where they were sleeping, and watched to see how far they could fly.

I Think I'm Going To Puke ... On Her

Is it just me? Or do you think she's a bitch too?

I'm all about slinging a little bullshit and joking around, but I can't tolerate a condescending bitch.

In her blog, she says that she just left her husband a little while ago, I say he's better off.

Found this through Mommy Has A Headache

The PMS Post - RUN!!!!

I really don't have that much for you today (dry your eyes). I'm busy making friends with people that matter. LMAO - you know I'm kidding for Pete's sake. I'm PMSing and I'm not in a good mood so here's some fluff.

I got the doll link from Nikki's site. It's pretty fun. Something to screw around with a make all cutsie.

Also, go here. Send an Isreali (is that spelled right) - you get the drift - a soldier from Isreal, a piece of chocolate. They're fighting a war damn it - the least you can do is point and click and give 'em a yummy. If you don't, then you're a piece of shit - and I mean that. It's a fucking peice of chocolate and it's not costing you a penny so send it already. (ahem - it's seems I'm PMSing rather hard - forgive me). I got this from Carmachu's site.

Excuse me while I overdose on Midol and Pamprin.

Dear Little Miss Dumb Shit,

Get the fuck out of my office. You condescending little bitch. If you knew how badly I wanted to smack you right now, you'd run for the hills.

I'm not even a little bit interested in the "all oak" steps in you house that lead up from the basement. I don't give a shit that all rooms in your home have ceiling fans. I give a flying fuck that you have hardwood floors in the kitchen.

You have two children who are spoiled little brats, and even though I have said something to YOU and to THEM, you still do not correct them. You ignore them, so much more focused on your shiny new house than their behavior. Never mind the fact that they are climbing up my filing cabinets and could be crushed if one came down on top of him. I have told them both, the youngest one 3 times, to get down.

Your husband is a nice guy. Why in the hell he would want to be married to you - I have no idea. You're a materialistic bitch who isn't even remotely interested in raising your kids and you screw around on your husband. I saw you - you fuckin whore. I had to go into town late one day last week and there you making out with some guy in the parking lot. IN THE PARKING LOT AT WALMART!!!! Could you have picked a more public place?

If you were even partially human, I would be happy about your new home with you. I would ooh and aah and talk about all those features you are so obviously obsessed about and offer your kids some candy - but I won't.

You are a sub-human, sub-mother, sub-wife bitch and I would love to jack your jaw just one time. And let's not forget the fact that you really are dumb. I'm not kidding. You're fucking dumb. Dumb in away that says that you couldn't finish high school and had to drop out because the "How NOT To Break Your Crayons" class was to complex for you.

...and just incase you didn't notice, that hair that you keep flipping...yeah, your blond highlights have turned green hon. Go get that shit fixed.

Mailer Damon

Dear Friends and Family (no, this isn't a phone commercial)

OMG

Please stop sending me those damn emails asking me to tell you a little bit about myself.

I've been good and participated a couple of times. I've told you I like broccoli (no cheese), corn on the cob (not that creamed corn shit) and how much I love a baked potato piled high with crap you're not supposed to eat. I've told you how much I hate - do you hear me? - HATE onions, tomatoes and mushrooms.

My favorite color is what ever color I feel like wearing today.

My favorite shirt is which ever one I feel like wearing today.

My favorite pants are the ones that are so old and pitiful looking I wouldn't want to wear them in public but feel like silk against my skin.

My nickname is Nikki, it is the name I go by. There are only a few people who still call me Angela (my given name) because that's the way it is. I don't have to explain it to you.

I have 1 dog, 3 cats and two goldfish.

I am still happily married and have been for 8 1/2 years, we've been together for 10.

My favorite TV show is HOUSE - because I like the main character, he makes me laugh, though I seldom watch it because working full time, having two kids, the above mentioned pets barely leaves me time to fart, much less watch TV. Don't ask about my favorite movies, because I see 1 about every three months, I really don't have much of a basis for comparison.

I prefer chocolate cake to ice cream (though they are great in tandem).

My real hair color is mud brown. My eyes are SHIT brown, and I don't have any piercing other than those in my ears. I did have my belly button pierced at one time but I took it out and let it heal.

I've been to a Sammy Kershaw concert and an Allen Jackson concert. Yes, I was a rebel and brushed my teeth and used deodorant for both events, unlike some of the folks there.

Yes I graduated high school.

No, I do not have a degree though I did attend college for a while.

Yes, I like George Carlin and Robin Williams, but also enjoy some of the lesser known comedians because they're funny too.

I have lived in a lot of different places. Please don't make me list them because I have better things to do than to try and remember if I lived on Pineview Dr or Longview Rd in the spring of 1987.

My hobbies are reading, hiking, practical joking my husband and making baby blankets to give to the NICU at my local hospital. Don't give me any shit about how you can't understand how I can sit down and make baby blankets. I've never asked you to understand, I've never tried to explain, just like you have never tried to explain to me why some of you are wasting valuable oxygen, and I'll never understand that.

I am otherwise craft handicap, please don't send me anymore cute ass patterns to make shit with cause it always ends up looking like the dog got to the damn thing after I finished with it, when in reality, he has never touch it.

My favorite type of car is the one that is paid off, runs well, has good gas mileage, the brakes don't squeak, has a clean, unbroken, cracked or other wise undamaged windshield, has both side mirrors and a rearview mirror, comes equipped with seat belts, a good radio, heating and air conditioning, and has low insurance premiums - seats are not required smart ass. I don't give a shit about the year, make, model or color. It could be primer color for all I care and as long as it meets my listed requirements, I'd still drive it. I'm sorry if you're a car snob and this bothers you, but you don't pay my bills and can go play with yourself for all I care - don't condescend to me.

The real thing that pisses me off about these things is that if you feel the need to send these stupid emails to me, you don't know me at all and you shouldn't have my friggin email address anyway.(how in the hell did you get it anyway?)

I tried not responding hoping you would get the clue. I have tried sending you responses that were funny, but if you read between the lines, you have realized I was serious and was trying to tell you to stop sending me that crap with out creating hard feelings.

Here's a revolutionary idea for you. Just ask me if you want to know. Shoot me an email saying something like:

Hey Nikki, we haven't gotten together in a while and I've been thinking about you and wanted to drop you a line. I really don't have that much to say, but wanted you to know that I miss hanging out with you. Oh BTW do you like broccoli?

The Bite My Ass Award

In keeping with the tradition of the "Asshat of the Week" award over at Attila's blog, I introduce you to the "Bite My Ass" award.

This award is set aside especially for those who I think really deserve to be single out for being such jerks.

The honor of the first award goes to Mr. Ronald Wayne Blankenship of Alabama. Mr. Blankenship ran for sheriff of Jefferson County. In various news stories, it is reported that Mr. Blankenship FAKED HIS DEATH AND HAD A FUNERAL several years ago to get the $340,000 in insurance money.

It is also reported that Mr. Blankenship has a past of BAD CHECK CHARGE(S) and there were some questions concerning him and a CAMPER TRAILER FIRE.

In 1990, a SWAT teamed swarmed his home for a THEFT charge and found a CACHE OF WEAPONS INSIDE A MATTRESS BOX SPRING. It was later found that along with the warrant for theft, there were also warrants out for ASSAULT, BURGLARY, MORE THEFT AND FORGERY.

Mr. Blankenship said: to paraphrase - It wasn't me, you have the wrong man. There must be another man out there with my same name, date of birth, married to a woman with the same name as my wife. It all a big coincidence because "I stand before the Lord, I've never been convicted of anything." YET COURT RECORDS SHOW THAT MR. BLANKENSHIP DID AT LEAST ONE YEAR IN THE COUNTY LOCKUP.

During the run for sheriff, Mr. Blankenship denied to be interviewed or release personal information because he was concerned over identity theft.

Mr. Blankenship I despise you and people of your ilk.

You can bite my ass.

WARNING -- TMI--YOU MIGHT WANT TO LEAVE NOW

I have just got to vent. If you don't like it, then carry your ass that way ---->

WHAT IS IT WITH MEN? Am I the only wife that has this problem? Please help - I'm serious because this is really starting to piss me off.

This morning, I woke up at 5am with the dog scratching at the kennel door like I hadn't let him out in 3 days to pee. He woke up Super Kid. I let the dog out only to find that he peed in the kennel. Cleaned that up(that was a wonderful experience - it was just how I have always wanted to start my morning), and tended to Super Kid. Went ahead and fed Super Kid breakfast because there was no way I was going to get him back to sleep when we needed to get up in an hour anyway.

Woke up Lauren (which is damn near impossible) , made sure Lauren brushed her teeth - she didn't do it well - I made her do it again. Realized I forgot to put her pants in the dryer last night. Oh she has more than one pair of pants, but she was going on a field trip today and HAD to have THAT pair - the ones she wore on Monday. So instead of putting the whole load in the dryer, I threw just that one pair in so it would dry quicker.

I ironed my clothes for work, ironed Lauren's shirt and ironed the baby's clothes. Made Lauren go brush her hair again, got super kid dressed and finally got to brush my teeth. Fed Lauren breakfast, fed the cats, fed the dog and watered the garden.

Took a "shower", basically all I had time for was an extremely brief introduction between my skin and soap and had to get the heck out of there because I remembered we had to leave an hour early this morning to be at the daycare in time for her bus to leave on her field trip.

While drying my hair, the hair dryer died and I don't have an extra one. I had to dry my hair and curl it at the same time with the curling iron. My hair didn't like me before - it fuckin' hates me now.

I finally got to put my pants on. Remembered Lauren's pants, threw them at her and told her to put them on in a hurry 'cause we had to go. Put my shirt on, put the dog in the kennel and woke up hubby. Was headed out the door and putting my shoes on (we keep all shoes in the laundry room - no shoes in the house) and as I was putting on my heels, Super Kid's top came off his cup and drowned my shoes in milk. I put on black flip flops instead of the heels, made sure I wasn't stepping on my pants leg stuffed the baby in the car seat, rinsed out my shoes and put them on the porch to dry. Fussed at Lauren to hurry up or she wasn't going to make the bus for her field trip. Went back inside, fixed myself some tea and woke hubby up again. Ran out the door and drove like the devil, slinging gravel and puttin' a ton of dust in the air.

Got to daycare, remembered to put Lauren's hair up - did it in the parking lot, dropped of the kids, got to the office and worked like a fiend all day long - looked in the mirror around lunch and noticed I forgot to put my make-up on. Stayed late at work for 2 hours to catch up, picked up the kids, drove home, let the dog out, let the cats out, fed the fish, fixed dinner, fed my spawn, bathed super kid, put super kid to sleep, sent Lauren for bath and bed, washed dishes, rewashed the load of clothes I forgot to put in the dryer this morning, scrubbed the kitchen floor and finally put away a load of clothes that was sitting on the couch looking rather wrinkled and scary.

I finally crawled into bed at 10:23pm. I was exhausted. I mean, just beat down! Hubby roles over and I can tell he's feeling rather "FRISKY".

First, let me say in his defense... He's sick. He has been quarantined to the bedroom so the kids don't get sick too. I don't mind doing all this when he is sick. He usually helps out with house and kids and what not. . . . . BUT

YOU AREN'T TO FUCKING SICK IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SOME FUCKING ACTION BUDDY. I'M PLAYING SINGLE MARRIED MOM HERE AND YOU'RE IN BED CHILLIN OUT WATCHIING THE DAMN TV PROPPED UP ON PILLOWS AND ALL OF THE SUDDEN YOU HAVE ENERGY WHEN I COME TO BED?!

YOU'VE BEEN IN BED FOR TWO DAYS BECAUSE YOU HAVE A FUCKING HEADACHE AND YOU FEEL SICK TO YOUR STOMACH. ALL I CAN SAY IS BIG FUCKING WHOO.

I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING IN THE RECLINER FOR 3 DAYS SO YOU WILL GET GOOD UNINTERRUPTED, GOOD QUALITY SLEEP (I snore). I'M FRIGGIN TIRED. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.

DON'T GET ALL OFFENDED AND PISSED OFF IF I SAY NO. HAVE THE FUCKING BRAINS TO REALIZE I'M TIRED. I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY. I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO BUST MY ASS ALL DAY AND THEN COME TO BED IN A BLACK NIGHTY TO BE YOUR LITTLE SEX KITTEN, WHERE YOU WOULD PROBABLY WANT ME TO BE ON TOP ANYWAY BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK. FUCK YOU.

IF YOU WANT ACTION? I WANT HELP YOU ASS.

WHY DOES HE DO THAT?!!!!!!!!

This is the third time in a month I have gone to the bathroom and there has been no toilet paper on the roll. Three guesses to who the last person was in the bathroom and the first two don't count.

I'll even give you a couple of hints:

1 - Lauren has her own bathroom.

2 - Only Charles and I use our bathroom.

Why can't he understand that I just can't shake mine dry? Why do I have to be reduced to pulling off miniscule bits of TP off the roll that are still GLUED to it? Why am I reduced to wiping myself with only enough TP to cover the tip of my index finger? What happens if I have to perfume the bathroom with potpourri (you get what I'm trying to say here right)? What in the hell am I going to do then? Why do I have to be reduced to doing the crouching duck walk to the cabinet to get TP and then back again to clean up? Is it because Toilet Paper doesn't begin with an "S" like SEX and SLEEP that he can't comprehend the importance of it?

I love that man but I swear, the next time I end up with a naked toilet paper roll, I'm going to get one of his shirts and apologize later for the dampness. "Oh sorry dear, I must not have left it hanging out on the clothes line long enough. No, I don't smell anything funny. . . or maybe the baby needs to be changed. Have a nice day at work!"

The Garden of Shame?

Hubby and I have been languishing in togetherness and it's making me sick.

No, I'm not talking about indulging ourselves in the horizontal mambo (even though that has come up in conversation). I'm talking about enjoying each other out of bed - you know - TALKING to each other...and now I remember why I don't talk to him (it's a joke - jeeeeeezzzz - work with the joke - don't screw it up - even though we all know I secretly adore him, I still get to make jokes at his expense because we're married.

First some background:

We live WAYY, WAYYYY, WAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY out in the country. So far out in the country that the deer come right up into our yard. We also have a few squirrels, some bunnies, a couple of 'possum, foxes, raccoons and a whole ass load of frogs that live in the stream that runs through our back yard. We call them "The neighbors". We also have "People Neighbors" but I will not be referring to them anywhere in this story.

Hubby has an amazing gift of knowing when I need to vent about something... or everything. It may be the fact that my head turns 360 degrees while I projectile vomit, but I don't think so. Men are not known for cluing in to subtle hints like that. He knows that venting about something is the best thing for me. I'm not looking to him to find the answers all the time, we do it jointly. If I verbally vomit my stress, I feel a lot better about it and am better able to deal with it and the situation causing it. To anyone else, it would just sound like a lot of bitching and whining.

Now the story:

Mom was staying longer than planned down in NC, spending time with her mother, and Charles and I were sharing a day all to ourselves, until the kiddies got out of school. We haven't had lunch together for quite a while and it has been over a year since we had breakfast out together. He usually gets home at 9-10pm, sometimes later, and I'm so tired I'm usually asleep or just on the edge of it, no matter how hard I try and stay up to ask about his day. So this was a real treat.

We were at IHOP (the International House of Pancakes for all you people who don't have one located conviently near you). We had purchased the local newspaper so we could Tsk over the goings on in our community when the subject of all the rain we've been getting lately came up.

This is the conversation that ensued:

Me - It's a good thing we haven't put anything in the garden yet. Everything would have drown.

Hubby - Yeah, I talked to mom (HIL) about it. She said we can put it in late. We'll just have to harvest late and water more to combat the heat for the cooler weather plants.

Me - Well that's no big deal. I bought that extra hose (total of 3) so it should reach all parts of the garden this year. That'll be great. That way all I have to do is put the sprinkler attachment on and turn the hose on when I get home.

Hubby -I think it would be best if you just turned the nozzle attachment to "rain" and stood out there and watered them that way. You've got time for it. You get home a lot earlier this year than you did last year. Shouldn't be any problem.

Me - HUH?! WHAT?! Honey, I'm running from the time I get home. First there's Lauren. I have to help with and/or check homework, make sure she takes a bath and not just stands in the bathroom while the water is running and then sprinkle herself later to it looks like she took a bath. I need to make sure she lays out her clothes for the next day and check to make sure she does her chores. Then there's Connor. What am I supposed to do - just put him in the playpen all evening? There's diapers that need changing and dinner to cook, and I can tell you that it's not easy cooking when little dude wraps his arms around my knees so I can't walk, while screaming so I'll pick him up. Of course I can't pick him up because I refuse to cook while holding him. What if he gets splashed with something? What if he grabs something hot? So I have to try and find something non-lethal to occupy him so I can cook dinner, but that never works...I'm guaranteed at least 30 minutes of all out screaming - MINIMUM - while I'm trying to put dinner on the table and just pray that dinner doesn't burn while I'm trying to distract him. Then I have to bath him and give him his medicine which is even worse than changing his diaper - you know how he kicks and screams and squirms and spits it all out! Lets not even talk about laundry, vacuuming, dusting, mopping, cleaning bathrooms and just general straightening of the house. We also have a dog, 3 cats and an aquarium with 2 goldfish that Lauren has named Jake and Harry. I also have to find time to spend with the kids! I would actually like to know my children instead of just their names. I don't have time to screw around with the garden during the week. I save that shit for the weekend after I cut the grass on Saturday, but before church on Sunday.

Hubby - *giving me funny look*

Me - WHAT?! FINE! I'll set aside one day a week where I'll go and hoe around in the garden if you think it needs more attention.

Hubby - (pause) ... so uh, you'll be hoing around in the garden huh.

Me - Well, yeah (abrupt stop)... oh damn!

-laughter from both-

Hubby - (sing little diddy) "Hoing in the garden!" "Hoing in the garden"

-more laughter and other patrons in IHOP are getting upset with us, I gave them dirty looks but we lowered our voices -

Hubby - So, who are your customers? We live to far out in the country for you to have a high clientele. Are people walking through the woods? What's REALLY going on when I'm not home?

Me - DAMN. My secret is out. I have to come clean honey. It's our neighbors. They're animals.

We laughed a bit more and both lit a cigarette. That laughter and time together was better than any cover rumpling we could have done.

Hubby - Getting stressed out are you? What can I do? Do you need me to do anything?

Me - (giving sappy love looks and wanting to rape him in the restaurant) There's nothing you can do that you aren't already doing. I knew it was going to be difficult when you started this shift, but we need the money and it has the added advantage of giving you 2 four day weekends a month. It's not like you're lazy or something. You work 10 to 12 hours a day and you drive an hour one way to work. On your days off you help with the kids and the house. On the days you do work, you get the baby ready in the morning and give him his medicine and pack his bottle bag.

Hubby - You could let me cut the grass. I've been asking you to let me cut it for weeks.

Me - No. It gives me some exercise and I need something physical. Besides, it gives you time with the kids.

PAUSE

Hubby - I love you.

Me - I love you more.

Hubby - nu-uh

Me - uh-huh

Hubby - nu-uh

Me - uh-huh infinity.

Hubby - nu-uh infinity plus one

Me - We are so damn childish.

Hubby - So?

Nikki's Moving Up in the World

I received this email. CHECK IT OUT!!!

Nikki (If that is your real name)

I would like to know how exactly you think you can get away with saying all those hateful things about your mother-in-law.

At least you could have the decency to do this anonymously. I think you are lower than the dregs of hell for doing such a despicable thing to someone whom you obviously owe a great debt.

You should feel ashamed and embarrassed.

I will no longer read your blog.

I feel somewhat complemented that someone took the time to send me hate mail. I think it's cool. I have obviously moved up in the world if I am getting hate mail on things that are neither political nor religious. GO ME!

It did occur to me that one of my loyal and "full of it" readers sent me prank hate mail. It doesn't matter. I still think it's cool.

Either way, it was sent to me to get a response, so I shall give you one, just cause it's fun.

Nikki (if that is your real name) - This is how you start off hate mail? Come on, be more creative. You could have tried something along the lines of "Nikki, you slimy piece of shit" or "Nikki, you and your blog suck." Either of these would have set the tone for you much more easily while conveying what you want said much more quickly. It would have saved you time. But it appears as though you have killed the brain cells needed to do this while smoking weed and doing lines of coke.

I would like to know how exactly you think you can get away with saying all those hateful things about your mother-in-law. - You want to know how I'm getting away with it? Okay, I'll show you. Be real quiet for a second (pause). Did you hear anything? No? THAT'S how I'm getting away with it.

At least you could have the decency to do this anonymously. - What in the hell kind of stupid ass statement is that when you opened this with "Nikki (If that is your real name)" You obviously seem confused as to whether or not I keep things in my blog anonymous. I tell you what, I'll let you figure it out. (YOU DUMB ASS)

I think you are lower than the dregs of hell for doing such a despicable thing to someone whom you obviously owe a great debt. - No shit. That's cool. Not everyone can be considered to be lower that the dregs of hell. I'm special, and we all want to be special don't we. I do have one question though. Exactly what is it that you think I owe this woman? If you read one of my comments on a previous post, you would realise that I firmly believe that my husband was abducted by aliens and left at her house. I don't owe her shit.

You should feel ashamed and embarrassed. - Really? I should? Well damn. Cause I don't.

I will no longer read your blog. - Okay, whatever floats your boat. The NEXT BLOG button is in the upper right of your screen.

Who ever sent me this mail, thanks. It made my day.

I'm Just Pissed Off

***WARNING*** If you have a problem with bad language - now is the time to leave this post.

Yesterday I posted a welcome home to my brother, whom I deeply love and respect. In said post, I stated clearly that it was not a forum for debate over the war in Iraq. Most of you put aside political beliefs and sent kind words and a welcome home to Jay, and I truly thank you for taking the time and effort to welcome him home. Your comments have really touched me and I'm sure they will touch Jay as well. However, a few of you decided to ignore the fact that my post was not meant for the opportunity to let your feelings be known on the war, and let it all hang out. A couple of you commented at such length that you should have put something up on your own blog. One of you even had the damn nerve to talk shit about ALL the soldiers in Iraq. I am sorry to say that I didn't keep them. I sincerely wish you could read for yourselves the hurtful and ugly things that these fools were spewing forth.

I admit, I tried to let it go, to make Jay's welcome home as nice as possible and to ignore the sorry rat ass bastards that are just trying to stir up shit - but I can't. I will no longer sit idlely by, while you run your dumb ass mouths.

The following is for the above mentioned idiots who need to grab the tweezers and go play with themselves.

To all of you who sent me shitty comments - go fuck yourselves. I support our troops. I support the war in Iraq, the war on terror, tapping phone lines of potential terrorists, and I even LIKE George W. Bush! I support anything and anyone that makes my country a safe place to live for me, my family, and yes, even your sorry ass.

If you have you have an issue with our soldiers - WHO SACRIFICE THEIR LIVES - hunting and killing the people who slammed airplanes into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and into a field in Pennsylvania killing THOUSANDS, it's you that should be shot.

Is killing the bad guy the problem for you? What would you have us do? Should we send a note of apology to them? Dear Bad Guy, Sorry we offend you with our beliefs. We will try as soon as possible to stop believing in all things good, and just believe what you and the media want us to. Signed, The Great Satan.

Hell, I say shot 'em up! Fuck them! I had friends in the Pentagon, damn it! I was a soldier! I too, have defended your right to be a dumb ass.

Do you have any idea how you make our soldiers feel when you tout your crap? These are living breathing human beings for Christ sakes! Think what you are doing to their moral! Think how you are effecting their families with the shit that flies from your mouth. What about the families of the victims of 9/11? You are a bunch of mealy mouth, yellow backed bastards. You are so set against "Big Brother" that you forget that he is called that because big brothers PROTECT you.

I will never say that I agree with everything Big Brother does. Being an American gives me that right, but I will never say that I take a soft stance on terrorism either. I will never say that I hate all Muslims, I don't, but I do hate all religious radicals - regardless of religion. I will never say my opinion is the only correct one, but I do say that dumb shits like you should not be allowed to speak in public.

I welcome all your comments to this post, regardless of your opinions. We all have the freedom of speech. Just remember, it's those soldiers, whom you so vehemently malign, that defend your rights.

*************************************************************************************

Please go here to read Misha's post for further words on this subject.

Welcome Home Bitch

My brother is home on leave from Iraq( I would tell you what he does but then I'd have to kill you). I'm so damn tickled I can hardly stand it.

I would be even more tickled if he could drop by and give his little sister a hug, but his being in Texas prevents that. I'm kind-a upset about that even realizing that he would still probably wrestle me down to the floor, pin me and pop my toes. (God! that hurts)

My brother, who has given up the first Christmas with his first child (his son), has endured long term separation from his wife and family, worked long hours suffering from exhaustion, been exposed to extreme heat, freezing temperatures and everything in between,who has seen sights no man should see, is home with his family.

I'll never forget the first letter he sent me from Basic. It went something along these lines:

Sup Bitch,

We were doing sit-ups up hill the other day and some grass got in the crack of my ass and I thought of you.

Can't you just feel the love that radiates from those words? Kinda gives you a warm fuzzy doesn't it. He's such a softy, to bad he has trouble expressing himself.

I'm not here to debate with you about the war in Iraq. I'm not concerned if you feel like it's the right thing or the wrong thing. I'm not going to debate over the tactics that got us sent over there, right or wrong. I'm here to express my joy that my favorite Shitbird is home. I'm very proud of him (God, don't tell him, I'll never live it down), and I will not subject him to assholes bashing him or anything he does. Period. He's got enough to worry about, besides, if anyone is going to talk shit and abuse him, it's going to be me. I won't let you horn in on my fun.

I know he doesn't want to go back, and I don't want him to go back but when duty calls, you go because you are a soldier, defender, protector and liberator. You go because you love your country, freedom and because you signed the dotted line saying you would go, regardless of your feelings about the subject and the politics that go with it. You go because if you don't, they'll throw your ass in Leavenworth, and since no one can accuse my brother of being a complete idiot (he's just the standard type), he went.

For now, let's just all pretend that we all agree on one thing. Let's pretend that we are glad that he and all the other soldiers, who lay their lives on the line, are there to do it, so we don't have to.

Welcome home Bitch. I love ya.