Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...







Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Slide Presentation

Curse you, Albert! Curse you, Patrick! Curse you all involved in this invention! Not really. It is a good thing for womankind and any man with moobs.

The mammogram: the art of compressing a boob (mammo) to the size of a gram or smaller between two plastic slides on a gigantis microscope.

I attended the Annual Crushing of the Boob yesterday. It's not a Viking drinking party, although it should be. There isn't one nice thing about it. Well, except early detection. Get yours done now. Mine went like this:

RECEPTIONIST: Good afternoon, fill out these forms in this glassed off confidential area and when you are finished, come sit in the waiting room where Ellen is. (points)

ME: Ok. Thank you.

(I filled out my form with enthusiasm and vigor because, by golly, I was going to see Ellen in the waiting room. They had excellent customer service!)

ME: (peeking in waiting room) Hmm. No Ellen. No people.

I went out to the reception desk.

ME: Ma'am, I can't find anyone. Where did everyone go?

RECEPTIONIST: Excuse me, Ma'am? You are the only one here.

ME: Uh. You said Ellen was in the waiting room. I can't wait to meet her. I love Ellen.

RECEPTIONIST: (points to television)

ME: Oh. Oh. You really need to work on your customer service and false advertisements just to get people in here to smash their boobs. Sadists, I tell ya.

RECEPTIONIST: *blink*blink* (no humor-stone face) Someone will call you when they are ready. Please have a seat in the waiting room.

Did as I was told. That woman skerred me.

I got in about 5 seconds of Ellen before a nice-nurse-technician-lady-whomever in scrubs asked me to come in the back. Apparently, to distract you from thinking about your precious body parts getting crushed under the machine, you are to deflect thoughts for 5 seconds on humor from Ellen and not a second more before the impending doom begins. I did appreciate their promptness. No screwing around. (which would have led to VD and other problems spreading nationwide)

She told me to get top naked, not bottom naked and to wait in another waiting room like that with other top naked people with gaping gowns. It was weird. It was actually like we were getting checked for boob harvesting. I know that is a BAD visual, but I was just praying nothing was wrong with my goods because breast cancer runs in the family. I was nervous. During the waiting in the top naked waiting area, we were only allowed to watch Rachel Ray. I found her squeaky voice annoying because it reminded me of the machines needing oil that were about to penetrate my happiness.

It didn't take long before I was ushered back into the dark room which made me feel I was about to consent to some type of free will molestation. My gown was ripped open and I was on my tippy toes, pressed up against the gigantus (it changed from gigantis to gigantus because it was much bigger than I pictured)  slide machine. The nice scrubs lady plopped my boob on the slide like a piece of meat and told me she was going to tell me not to breathe at two points in the process.

SCRUBS LADY: You can breathe now. Later I will tell you not to breathe.

ME: Oh. I guess I was practicing or fright just set in. (weak smile)

SCRUBS LADY: I will talk you through it.

ME: Ok.

Scrubs Lady took the upper slide and brought it on top of my left boob and then CRANKED the holy hell out of the knobs until my boob was a millimeter in depth. Let me tell you that spread that size C breastusis all over Indiana. I'm sure everyone was grateful to have boobs everywhere.

SCRUBS LADY: Ok. I 'm going to crank a little more.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

SCRUBS LADY: Don't breathe.

SCRUBS LADY: Ok. You can breathe. Now diagonal.

FUCK>ME>IN>THE>ASS.

SCRUBS LADY: Ok. Same process.

My now flattened boob got plopped back up on the gigantus slide and she cranked again.

SCRUBS LADY: Ok. I'm cranking as far as I can go. Pressure.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

SCRUBS LADY: You are dense.

ME: Yes, I have been told that before. How can you tell. I haven't said anything.

SCRUBS LADY: No, your breasts.

ME: Is that good or bad?

SCRUBS LADY: That is neither. It is just how you are.

ME: Oh.

SCRUBS LADY: Now we will move to the right breast.

ME: Oh. Goody.

SCRUBS LADY: Same process. Scoot closer. Scoot closer. There.

So she plopped my right boob up on the slide like a piece of prime rib. Meanwhile, my left boob hit the floor and I almost stepped on it. So much for perky boobs. They were going to be shot after this visit.

SCRUBS LADY: Pressure. And I am cranking.

OMGOMGOMGOMGFUCKMEOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMBREATHEOMGFUCKOMG!

SCRUBS LADY: Don't breathe.

click click The machine took at least 20 minutes. Swear.

SCRUBS LADY: Ok Breathe. One more time.

ME: (weak smile)

SCRUBS LADY: Don't breathe.

click click click click

SCRUBS LADY: Ok. Now for diagonal. And pressure. Cranking.

OMOMOMOMOMGGGGGGGGFUCKFUCKFUCKSHITDAMNOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

Time stood still and my eyes popped out of my head and I am sure that I went into a temporary coma. I don't know if I did everything I was supposed to because I checked out.

SCRUBS LADY: Ma'am. Ma'am.

ME: Yes. I think a peed a little.

SCRUBS LADY: We are done. You may go get dressed now. Are you OK? I usually watch every one's face and I can tell if it is really painful and on that last one, your face told me to move fast.

ME: Yeah. That one was tough.

SCRUBS LADY: You were a trooper. Go ahead and go back to room 1.

ME: Do you have a wheelbarrow?

SCRUBS LADY: Pardon?

ME: I have to get my boobs off the floor and into the room and then I need a forklift to put them in my bra to carry them home. What do you recommend to get them perky again? If you smash out cancer by compressing my boobs in the slide machine, does that mean the cancer breaks and dies or does it get spread easier?

SCRUBS LADY: Um. That's not how cancer works. This will give us a good picture of your breasts and we can screen for anything suspicious.

ME: That was worse than water boarding.

SCRUBS LADY: Um...I don't follow you.

ME: Thanks very much. Have a great day!

SCRUBS LADY: Ma'am. Here is a card to check on your results within 24 hours.

ME: Thank you! I got my boobs smashed and all I got was this stupid card. No t-shirt?

SCRUBS LADY: No t-shirt. Sorry.

All I can say after that is...ladies, SAVE THE TA-TAs!


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

RYN & Son

It isn't a problem for men.

It is a problem for single women.

And children.

Who are you?

I find myself at an odd crossroads for the first time. It didn't really dawn on my until this weekend while I was visiting a good friend, Lori,  over state lines. It's nice to be close to several state lines where I can just hop over and visit. And old friends makes me feel at home.

While sitting on her sofa, I looked up at the mantel and admired her family name framed in glass. It was very tasteful. It looked like this, only in letters and themes that went with their family interests, then it was framed in a nice black frame.
 I mentioned that I liked it very much and it was clever. Lori told me she had the kit and she could print the letters I needed for my family sign. Immediately, I got excited. Then just as fast I got deflated.
 
Who the FUCK am I?
 
What name would I be?
 
I couldn't use my maiden name because it doesn't include my daughter. I couldn't use my current name because it doesn't include my daughter. I couldn't use her name, because I am not that and it doesn't include me.
 
So who the FUCK are we?
 
I was perplexed. I mean, I got the *blink*blink* going on in my head which transposed to the eyes and I stared at Lori. Despite how many time she asked me what letters she should print, I could not tell her an answer. So, I opted out of the program. There won't be any names on my walls.
 
Then, this bothered me.
 
For the whole weekend.
 
Why? Because I overANALyze everything.
 
All my life, I have been very sure of myself. For 20 years, I was profoundly my maiden name and proud of it. For over half of my entire life, I was known as my first husband's name and proud of it. Then I got divorced. I kept his name until I married again. Then divorce strikes twice. FMITA. I don't think of myself as his name anymore, although I have it.
It is only because to change your name as a woman divorced and all that is the biggest pain in the ass. I have to bring all paperwork from the birth to the marriage to the divorce to the marriage to the divorce. Well fuck you, government. I have to bring more papers to prove who I am than an illegal alien needs to be in this country. I can only blame myself, for I got myself into this predicament.
 
When I was married, I was always proud to take the man's name.
 
But now I find myself  LOST.
 
If I was going to hang a name plate in the Harry Potter House, I would take the last three letters from my first name and the last three from my daughter's name. We are now known as:
 
RYN & SON.
 
So, fuck you, sign company.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Weird Science

Sometimes, the mind of a teenager is scary. Most times it is, anyway. It still fascinates how my child learns about life things. Last night, we are sitting on the reclining sectional, vegging after a night of track practice, running, and church. So, we decided to turn on American Idol which has been bland to blah this year. The singers really aren't that good. Sometimes there is a moment, and then I fear they suck.



I have to continue to watch it, however, so I can hear Keith Urban say "baby" and watch Harry Connick, Jr. JLo's fashion changes are also interesting. The vocals have been lukewarm.

This caused the Bug to talk. Why? Because if a teenager's mind is not engaged with electronics or television, they don't know what else to do.

BUG: Mom. I learned about different holes today in science.

ME: Oh. Yeah. Black holes, sink holes. Interesting.

BUG: No. Mom. These holes. (points to crotch area)

ME: Huh?

BUG: Yeah. Girls have three holes there.

ME: *blink*blink*

BUG: The butt hole, the vagina hole, and the anus hole.

ME: *snort*cough*snort*

BUG: Mom, stop laughing. I was teaching you about antonomy. 

ME: Anatomy. *snort* wheeze*

BUG: Mom, it isn't funny.

ME: Yes, it is. The anus and butt hole are the same holes.

BUG: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I mean the uh...

ME: urethra.

BUG: Huh?

ME: The hole you pee out of.

BUG: Yeah. You have an anus hole, a vagina hole, and a pee hole.

ME: *snort* wheeze* Stop. You are killing me. Did your teacher tell you those names?

BUG: No. I named them.

ME: Oh, good. 

BUG: We have other holes, too.

ME: Oh?

BUG: (puts finger in ears and then up her nostrils)

ME: *snort*wheeze* laughing until I cried

BUG: Mom! This is science!







Tuesday, March 18, 2014

ButtimPoopin

Brought to you by Cyndi Lauper and the Dawgs...



Caught up

 in confusion...

a memory...sometimes...it is so real

it smells...

you picture me...

running to you and wagging my tail,

but I turn

in circles...

you are calling to me...

and me I can't hear

a word you say...

I fall behind...

but I hear you once

 call out...

I don't listen because I'm busy...

time after time...time after time...

you call me over

to come to you...

buttimpoopin buttimpoopin buttimpoopin


in circles...

time after time

time after time...

I ignore you...



then I give you kisses

... and ....

you tell me I smell...

 like stinkypoopy stinkypoopy ...ballsnpoopin ballsnpoopin...

don't bother me...

take that in the fountain...

buttimpoopin buttimpoopin...don't bother me...

time after time...time after time...time after time

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

Yep. Too much time on my hands. Ran. Hyper. Dogs pooping all day. I just wanted dog love and they smell like balls and poop. That's my day.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Republic of Bug

Clink, clink, clink, clink

Whatcha doing, Mommy?

Counting quarters.

For what?

Gasoline.

Why?

Too much month at the end of the money.

That doesn't make sense.

Well, someday it will. Do you think it is bad to call in sick when you run out of gas?

I think you can call in sick if you have gas, Mommy. No one wants to be around you then.

Thanks. Sound advice.

Mom, here you go.

What are you doing?

Giving you one of my dollars.

No, I don't want to have your money. I will figure it out with my change.

It's Ok, Mommy, I didn't take the garbage out this weekend. I should be punished.

Uh. That's not how government pay works.

Mother, you are not the government.

Yes, yes I am. I am the Government of the Republic of Bug.

Mother, if you were the government, I wouldn't have any money.

How quick you learn, child.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

The Elusive MR CURTIS

 
The Grey Man is a thriller written by J.L. Curtis with detail and expertise drawn from somewhere...himself? Movies? Too much television? Andy Griffith? Well, I guess it might be all of that...minus Andy Griffith and television and movies...because he has been around guns for a long time and enjoys shooting and anything associated with them. Curtis might have included experience or knowledge in the book, or maybe just lucky guesses. He won't say.
 
He is a very intelligent and well accomplished man from the south, originally from down Lousiana way, but prefers Texas. His book reflects his expertise in firearms and each character has been scripted in detail so you feel as if you really know them. The book is detailed, the characters come alive with each page turn and...if you like America, justice, guns, military, and a western flair with intrigue and suspense... and yes, a thrilling ride along the way...then you will enjoy The Grey Man by J.L. Curtis. I loved it! I got a chance to sit down with Mr. Curtis and hash out an interview. He has a deep, sexy southern voice. I suspect John Cronin got his slow drawl from Curtis. Isn't there a Mary Sue in all books?
 
 
 
 
 
Hello, Mr. Curtis. How are you?
 
Hello. Fargo. I'm like sunshine on a butter biscuit. And you?
 
Is that a southern thing? Sounds like butter on top of butter.  I'm like a fart in the wind blowing downhill to the enemy. It's a good day.
 
Well, I guess. Um. What does that mean? Never mind. I maybe don't want to know about that.
 
Well, true. This is about you, not me. I'm from the Midwest, raised in the West. You are from the south living in another, different south. It's like our mind channeling and wave reductions might be misfiring.  I think we can work this interview out. Frankly, your intelligence level is far beyond mine. However, these language barriers are going to be the death of me. Help  me when you can. I don't speak southern and I have not taken the decoder class.
 
Uh. Sure. Go ahead with the interview. I will try to keep you up.
 

First: Give us a bio of yourself, background, and future goals in writing. Tell us about how you came up with this storyline for The Grey Man.

My bio. Let me see...old fart, retired Navy Mustang, trying to put food on the table... born/raised in the South, so...I am nice to women, dogs and babies.... Story line kinda wrote itself from the snippets I put up on the blog-http://oldnfo.org/.   
 
Snippets. Sounds like something off The Muppet Show. A relative of Kermit?
 
I'm not following you. Have you read my blog?
 
Yes, I have. I follow you, actually. You have several venues. I find them all interesting. You also like guns. Anyone who likes guns is good. What inspired you to write a book? Where did the inspiration come from?

I made the mistake of putting up a little short story... ;-)  I didn't want another Perfect Hero (tm), too many of them out there already.  I wanted a human hero.  And I wanted to do something different.  As they say, write what you know, and this doesn't get me put in Leavenworth, so that was a consideration too! 
 
What? Why would you get put in Leavenworth? You growing pot in the Navy? Hydroponics? I thought you were retired. That means you made it through the gamut. My dad was Army and my uncle was Air Force. I trained Marines. I myself, was involved in 4-H. The four clovers? You ever heard of them? Probably not, it's secret squirrel shit.
 
Being a Navy Mustang is something I am proud of and it is a big deal, an honor, and a prestige.  I had a very successful Navy career.
 
I suppose you did. Thank you for your service. But you had a horse. I don't mean to insult you., but I was just confused as to how you would get them on the ship. Let's focus on the next question...What was your greatest challenge during the process of writing your first word to the publish date?

A horse on the ship? No. That's not what that means. Let me answer your question.  Editing....&*(*^% editing...  Did I mention how much I HATE editing???  Fantastic group of Alfa/Beta readers though. I really had a great editor and every person that read my book really took part in helping me and created a greater end product.
 
You went to the book factory? I knew I was missing out on something. How does it feel to be a published author?  
 
Strange... I've always avoided publicity...
 
Me, too. I hear ya. It just finds me in inopportune times. Which character is your most favorite in your book? Why?  
 
Yes :-)
 
Really? You are one of those that can't pick a favorite child? Seriously? These characters are not even real. Fine. Be Switzerland then. I liked John Cronin the best. Maybe because he is so complex.  Do you enjoy writing the villains or hero-heroine characters most? Why?  

Both, because you have to have some good interaction to make the story believable, which means the characters have to be believable.
 
True. I think you did very well in the book. It is very believable. Do you have any future planned works? Advice for new upcoming authors?  

Maybe... :-) At least one more of these, and maybe a third (depends on how many words I have left over).  Advice- Don't listen to the naysayers... THEY have a vested interest in reducing the competition for 'their' titles...
 
That is great advice. It is also something that I struggle with because I can't ignore their words, I just have to forge ahead anyway. You can't succeed without trying, right? Wait until you get your first bad review...and we all get them. Once a reviewer said I was trying to be clever in my book. She apparently doesn't know me. That is how I AM. I am clever. Hey lady, clever, clever toilet lever...bring it!
 
Ma'am. You sure have some troubles today. Are you doing alright?
 
Yes, I just need a drink or the smell of gun powder up my nose. They should make that scent in a fucking candle, I tell ya. Thank you for asking. I'm sorry I got distracted. I have rivets and neck twitches from side effects stemming from bad reviews.
 
Uh....
 
Anyway, on with the show! How would you best describe what you hope a reader gets out of your book? For example: Is it for enjoyment? Hidden metaphors? Entertainment? Or hopes they continue the series or future works of yours? Or was the book written for you as a dream or goal accomplished...i.e. bucket list item?

Enjoyment and maybe a bit of knowledge about long range shooting.  It was done to keep me out of the bars and give me something to do on airplane flights...
 
What kind of bars? Jail? Or the drinking kind?
 
Both.
 
Oh, so you are a rabble rouser.  A true southern man. Ha. Pipe dreams. I know you have had a great career and had to behave. You can't fool me. You can be naughty when you retire.  I've been behind bars many times. I got out right away tho...the advantage of the badge. Yep. (tee hee) I sleep on planes, just a little suggestion. If you are rested up on the plane, you can get off the ground running. And if you drink on the plane, you can't get a DUI or go to jail unless you say those magic words or get crazy. I mean, there is no such thing as an FUI.
 
What is an FUI?
 
Flying Under the Influence. NOT unless you go to the cockpit and ask the pilot if you could put your hands on the stick thing. And never mind. I know. Pilots are sensitive about their sticks. Anyway...why am I getting off on tangents? Do any of the characters draw from your experience, your personality? Friends? Family?  

I know NOZZINK... :-)
 
That was cute, Colonel Klink. Or did Schultz say that? Anyway. I bet you think I was too young to know Hogan's Heroes. One of my dad's favorite shows. I think, however, you are referring to the current administration of our top office of the United States and his General friend. So...getting anything concrete of an answer out of you is like pulling a Shasta camper out of a buffalo's butt. Tell us some hobbies, interests when you are not writing.

Um. I'm not sure I understand your logic. I mean, camper....buffalo...I am not tracking.
 
It's a western thing. Buffalo are in the west.
 
Yeah. It still doesn't make any sense.
 
Fine. I will put it this way. It's like carrying a bucket of crawdads uphill with a hole in the bucket.
 
Well, is the hole big enough for only the water to drain out, because that could be a great thing if you were fixin' to eat 'em. Now if the crawdads slipped out because you had a big hole, then disaster strikes.
 
 
(big sigh) I think we should have ordered drinks. You probably need a big one to put up with my nonsense. First of all, in Wyoming, crawdads are called crayfish and they are used as bait. We do not eat those vile things. And squirrels? We look at 'em. They are cute. Sometimes they are annoying when they poop on your car. We don't wear them. We don't fry them. We don't roast them. They are not made into kabobs. Back to the interview focus, please tell us some hobbies, interests when you are not writing.
 
Shooting, golf, hot rods, good food... Gave up on women- to old and slow to chase, much less catch them...
 
Fat ones.
 
Pardon me, Ma'am?
 
Fat ones. You can still catch the fat ones. They are slow. I mean, you don't have to give up on women. There are still some out there. You are still young enough to have one.
 
Yeah. I think I will pass. I will stick to what I know.
 
 
Ok. Just a suggestion. I don't want you to be lonely when there are opportunities out there. Anything else you think is important that I haven't asked you yet? 

You didn't ask about my 'inner' motivation and all that other happy, touchy, feely horseshit... Not that I had any... I just don't like being told I can't do something...
 
 
Oh, this isn't Oprah for God's sake. If your book was made into a movie, who would play John Cronin?
 
Well, I think he is a Tommy Lee Jones or Clint Eastwood type.
 
Really? Those are two of my faves, but aren't they kind of old? What do you think about Channing Tatum? Well, maybe he's too young. Who would play Jesse?
 
Well, I don't know.  I have no idea. I have never really thought about the woman celebrities.
 
I see. Totally blocked women out of your mind. Sad really. Alright, what is your favorite gun and why?
 
A Colt Python because I have had one for years. Second would be a 1911.
 
Really? You don't like those radical master blasters they make today that shuck out thousands of bullets at once or that fancy new Glock 42?
 
Uh. No. Not interested as my number one choice, anyway.
 
Ok. Then. Those are nice guns, by the way. Any gun is a good gun. What do you think happened to D.B. Cooper?
 
(laughing)
 
I'm serious. I always ask a strange question.
 
I think he is dead. I don't think he survived the jump. I could give you many reasons why I come to that conclusion, but it is all relatively simple. He is dead.
 
Do you like Duck Dynasty? Does that show make you feel southern pride?
 
Who? What? I really don't have time to watch television.
 
Longmire?
 
Nope. I read a lot of books. Anything really. Except romance novels.
 
Me either. Not a romance novel person. Do you prefer the Kindle or paper books? A southern man that reads. You are an anomaly aren't you?
 
What?
 
Nothing. It's like a small gopher.
 
Uh...what was your question?

Do you prefer the Kindle or paper books to read?

Definitely paper. Always paper. I read many books when I fly, however, so I have a Kindle.
 
Me too. Love the paper. True book worm right there. I find the Kindle is easy for travel. I want to thank you, Mr. Curtis, for the great interview. I loved your book. It is well written and very, very enjoyable. I would classify it as FANTASTIC! You will have much success! I will highly recommend it. I think you are already climbing the Kindle charts! I will be putting my thoughts on Amazon shortly. Good luck to you.
 
Thank you, Ma'am. I appreciate it! Good day, Fargo!
 
*************************
Go out and grab this book for a great read. If you like thrillers, this one is for you! It's different, intriguing all the way through, and more of the series to come in the future! You won't be disappointed!

Mr. Curtis is a great man. He will be one to watch!
 
 
 

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Man Shades of GREY!

Just out on Amazon!
I enjoyed this very much and I am very supportive of Mr. Curtis! Congratulations!
Review and hopeful (hint, hint) interview with the author to come!

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Sh*tgun Shells and Funny Smells

Sunday, Bug and I spend the day with Sheriff Mike at the range.

We stunk up the range.

It was the first time since last year, I had shot a shotgun. Keeping your practice alive through osmosis does not work, just so you know. Cleaning and oiling your gun...loving on it during the winter months, preparing ahead with ammo...does not mean you will be a sure shot come spring thaw. The gun does not listen. The gun does not send out good shooting vibes. I should have switched to Christian prayer and not Buddhism or the Golden Rule or Karma or the Theory Of Osmosis.

MARK: Nice you could come out of hibernation, Fargo.

ME: Yep. You are lucky I am here today. It's 39 degrees. I said 40 was my bottom limit. I don't have to shoot in the cold anymore. I was tricked.

MARK: It's supposed to be 43 by 4:00.


ME: The party is almost over by then.

MARK: We lost of few this winter. Three of us.

ME: Really? (sad) Who? ( I was afraid it was George)

Mark rattled off the list and I knew about one of them, but not the other two. Sad to see the boys go home. George was not one of them.

MARK: I checked on George. He said it was too damned cold. (big grin)

ME: Whew.

So...we all signed up for our matches. They started off stinking up the range, then they got in their groove and Bug was impressed by their marksmanship. We arrived a little late. We didn't get on the first shoot line. I didn't get on the second one either, but Sheriff Mike did.

He was the third shooter. Sheriff Mike had 3 misfires (not enough gun powder in the reloads).

MERYL: MIKE! You should go get your BB ammo.

MIKE: BB?

MERYL: Before beer. The stuff you made before beer. 

(30 old men laughing)

MIKE: I will be right back.

BUG: Mommy, why is Mike's gun not firing?

ME: Bad ammo. 

BUG: Oh, no. Could he get hurt?

ME: Not with that ammo. (big cheesy grin)

BUG: He feels silly, doesn't he? 

ME: Probably, but these guys don't care. It's just for fun. Something to tease about.

BUG: I want to practice before I go up there.

ME: Ok. 

BUG: I mean alone in another place with no one but you around. 

ME: Ok. 

BUG: Are they hard to shoot at?

ME: The birds?

BUG: The orange frisbee things. 

ME: They call them pigeons or "birds. 

BUG: They are clay. They look like frisbees.

ME: Maybe that was BB.

BUG: Before beer?

ME: Yeah.

It was soon my turn to line up for a trap shoot match. So...sure enough when I got back to the truck to load up for my match....there was an AB and BB segregation of ammo. Of course, I took the BB ammo. I wasn't going to look stupid.

First go ahead to call, "PULL!" I fired. Nothing.

I pulled that shell out and made sure everything was OKIE DOKIE and fired again.

And again.

Nothing.

Dear God, it's me Fargo. Help me. I look really really stupid right now and my face is red and I want to hide in a hole. 

Then...God hit me with a rock...in the vagina.

Doh!

I looked over at Mark and then at Mike and it dawned on me what a stupid )#$^#&$)@ f*cktard I was.

MIKE/MARK: Was it the safety? (All nice and quiet, gentlemanly)

ME: Yep. Duh. (embarrassed) Safety! Safety, everyone! Blond moment!

(Relief from the crowd)

No one wants to see a girl get blown up at the range by reloaded ammo malfunctions.

PALM TO FOREHEAD.

Some days I wish there were "do-overs".

Monday, March 10, 2014

LENTils

Lately the planets have been misaligned and my Mercury is clashing with Venus. I don't know. It sounded astronomical. Maybe my mind channeling is going astray and went down two forks in the road. Here's what I'm talking about. The jumbled random mess of information in my head they call flashing neurons. That means "glimpses of data puttzing around in there". It's my language. Go with it.

Anybrainactivity...

What is the one thing you could not live without? Do you give something up for LENT?

I used to participate in LENT alongside my Catholic friends until one day, I thunk about it. Why give something up just to restart it again? I know, I know the purpose and meaning. Duh.

But my brain still goes here. Why not give up something not for 40 days, but FOREVER? Why go through 40 days of suffering just to get off the whatever crack you were on, just to start it up again? I know, I know. I can hear it already.

Lent is traditionally, conducted by Christians around the world in commemoration of the forty days Jesus spent fasting in the desert before he began his ministerial journey. It was here he endured the temptations given forth by the Devil.

Well, I like meat.
I like flowers.
I like coffee, chocolate, wine.

What do I?

What do you do?

Do you partake in Lent?

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Pissy Panties

Have you ever had a day where you woke up in a pissy mood and you have no idea how that occurs? Where does it come from? Do we have dreams that influence our moods? Is it from broken sleep, lack of sleep, or too much sleep?

My night last night was no different than any other night. I went to bed happy and fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.

I woke up several times as usual. Twice to potty and poo patrol the dogs. They were busy making poop in their sleep. Beat me. It happens. I did it and went back to bed.

I got up.

I hated my hair.

I hated all the outfits. I looked at my closet and I longed to wear some of the clothes in there, but nothing look good no matter what I chose.

I was ugly.

I was fat.

I was fat and ugly.

I made my lunch, grabbed my workout bag and headed to work and started the day.

Weeks ago, I started the application process for grad school. Somehow they created another ID number. I am a NUMBER! Blah. Then I had two. Then I could not get into any finance programs, software, or university programs except the general website, email, and thank baby Jesus...the website that has student programs. I could do very little. It still wasn't resolved this morning. It was worse.

They had their best gurus on it and still no resolution. I swear...someone was clicking too many buttons. If I don't have a number, I am nothing. I can't work out, I can't eat, I can't get paid...blah, blah.

Then, I looked at my fitness tracking and I have fallen down in my running program and I have a race coming up that I am not ready for. So...I looked around for some more races and there is nothing until fall. At least close to me, that I can afford. Maybe that is my sign to work harder during the spring, prepare for the one summer mudder and the fall trail races.

I am so not pleased with my handling of the winter woes and bad weather. I long to be outside.

My daughter has been a pill.

I don't want to write. I try to force myself and nothing comes out.  I am months behind schedule. Not only books, but the blog sucks. I have plenty to blog about, but it isn't here.

The dogs are crazy. They are restless, despite the play in the snow we do.

My house needs some repairs and I can't do them until the weather gets nicer.

Maybe it is the lack of spring weather.

It has never been an issue in Wyoming. I kept driving forward just as I feel I have been now.

I don't know why I am pissy.

I don't like myself much today.

I tried to go to bed early and I couldn't sleep. So, here I sit writing about being pissy. You know what the dictionary says about pissy? It is defined as..
of, relating to, or suggestive of urine,
inferior; contemptible, or arrogantly argumentative.

 

Well, there you have it. I am a yellow cock.




Monday, March 3, 2014

Goodreads Giveaway!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Boogie Man Is My Friend by Kathryn Loving

The Boogie Man Is My Friend

by Kathryn Loving

Giveaway ends March 22, 2014.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Winter White

I love to laugh, but I have always been self-conscious of my smile. When I was young, my teeth were discolored from too much fluoride in the water. At least that is what my dentist in Minnesota told me and as I grew older, other dentists in Wyoming confirmed those same findings. I always wanted white teeth. It just has never been affordable. I mean, my parents couldn't afford to get me movie star teeth and back then dentist didn't put braces on kids willy nilly like they do now. And so I had to muscle through not being proud of my smile.

At least until now.

Have you ever tried those white strips? Many of my friends have and they rave about them. I tried them and they didn't work, made my teeth hurt, and tasted terrible. I gave up. I thought...nah, I don't want to be that miserable.

I have inquired in the past, with my dentists to see about "movie star" teeth...caps. Not a problem if you have a cool $12-16,000 laying around. Beat me. Once, when I had that much money, I even thought about it. Really hard. I just couldn't do it. They also had an LED treatment, but that was still $600.00. I scheduled my appointment, but I cancelled, thinking I could not just spend that on vanity. Weird, right? I know. I spend that on shoes. Three years have gone by since I had inquired about making my smile really feel good to share, instead of covering my mouth.

So, luckily, I was approached with a new product, Smile Brilliant!

I was skeptical until I saw the LED light in the package. Just like the dentist!

Now time to get gross. Here is what you see on my blog...no photo shopping...all natural. BUT-from a distance:
 OK, so normally on here you don't see me dressed in 1920s garb, feel privileged.
 
I might look more like this:
See...in all the shots, I am far away from the camera and not smiling real big.
 
Here I am in the hospital..fake smiling...far away. Don't panic. I'm not there anymore. It was an old pic.
 
Again, you might not realize what my teeth look like. AND-I BRUSH MY TEETH A LOT!
 
Let me scare the heebie jeebies out of you:
 
Before treatment.
 
This is one treatment later.
 
OK. First of all, I am not a professional photographer and lighting was never the same. I apologize for the bad images.  It really isn't that hard to tell how drastic the change was after 5 treatments of Smile Brilliant! Look! Here is the 5th treatment in daylight:
Winter chapped lips from being outside and running outside. Don't judge me. They are better. They are voluptuous today. Look at the difference. I have white teeth! I mean, what a improvement! I still could use some treatments, but what progress! What do you think? Cool, right?
 
Well, I have something better...if you want it now, you can go to the link above (click on Smile Brilliant!) and buy it. It's only $39.99. If you want to chance for a  giveaway...leave a comment below as to why you would want to win Smile Brilliant! and how important a white smile is to you. I will announce the lucky winner in a week! I was really pleased. It didn't taste yucky. It didn't hurt my gums or make my teeth sore. And...most of all...it works! I love this product!