Oct 26 2012

Utterly Random Babbling from a Fruitcake

Actually, I don’t like fruitcake. I do like banana nut bread though. Mmmmm…banana nut bread. Now I want some. I do think I’m going to make some funnel cakes this weekend. Talk about yummy and SO healthy!! Lord, my ass grew 3 inches just thinking about funnel cake.

Since a bunch of you have asked where I ran off to last week and why I haven’t been around its because the hubby and I went to visit his family last week in Minnesota. The weather was AWESOME! Nice and cool and cloudy and the trees were so colorful. It was just beautiful. Why someone like me, who hates heat and the awful torturer known as the sun, lives in AZ is beyond me. I’m not bright, I guess.

Okay, so for my rambling thoughts (and they are rambles, let me warn you!! As a matter of fact, no one should even read this. Run from your computer now!!!).

People who are dickfaces can suck it. How’s that as a start? I say this because in the last couple of weeks I ran up against a dickface. (Ooohhh, that sounds dirty…) I try to never surround myself with such people because my normally agreeable, fairly sweet self gets stuffed into a jar and the “Don’t fuck with me or I’ll cut you” side of me comes bubbling out. For example, back when I used to party in Scottsdale some of the funnest times I had were slowly disassembling cocky assholes at bars until they were fetal and crying for mommy. I just can’t take it when a guy comes up and essentially says, “I’m the shit (ummmm…no). I’m hot (they rarely are). I’m rich (they never are). I’m drive a fancy car (leased and paid for by them and their 9 roommates). I only like girls with fake tits (mine are real, douchebag). I don’t like girls with opinions (as that means you have to actually think to have a proper conversation). I’ll buy you a drink, but expect head as a thank you (on this they are never kidding). Everyone loves me–I know you do too (not in your wildest dreams, mo fo).” While I’m sure a better person than me would just blow them off, every one and I while I get a little hot in the blood and have to verbally throw down until my opponent is decimated. I know this makes me a bad person (it doesn’t happen that often!) but I just cannot suffer fools and people who behave like that just fuel my fire. I know there is the female equivalent to my bar guy, so gentlemen don’t think I don’t understand that chicks can be just as annoying.
If you are not happy with your life, change it. I know this is WAY easier said than done. I know there is no magic wand that we can just wave and BING! we’re rich, happy, healthy and built like a brick shit house. But there are things one can do to make life a little happier. All this constant sulking and blaming and whining and blah blah blah is so pointless. Don’t get me wrong. I occasionally sulk and whine. Everyone gets to do that every once and a while. But to just live life like that is a waste. First step to a happier life? Cut the people who make you want to kill things out of your life. If you can’t stand them or they make you unhappy, choose to not be around them. If they don’t like that, tough shit. They need to be nicer or then can go screw.
I need a ranch. Yep. One of these days, I’m going to have a ranch with chickens and goats. I want the little pygmy goats that are black and white and look like cow-goats. Then they’ll also look like my Moopy kitty. I’ll have a Moopy Cat and Moopy Goats. Ahhh…sounds like heaven.
While I love traveling in first class, there shouldn’t be one. I got Grant and myself an upgrade on the way to Minnesota and it was HEAVEN!!! You can see how much we enjoyed it by the pic. Even the teddies were in heaven. Yes, we travel with teddies. But I digress. If they could just give everyone a speck more room and treat everyone with a little more dignity, then we could ALL be happier on a plane. I understand they can’t give out free food and drinks to a plane full of people. They’d go bankrupt. But if we could just get a little more space and not (in most, but not all, cases) be treated like a chore, then those sitting in coach may not want to burn down all of first class.
Tick Teddy and Dopple Bear having the time of their lives! DRUNKS!!
I miss my furries when I’m away from them. I guess this is how people with kids must feel when they are away from the kiddos for an extended period of time. I wanted my little kitties in my lap while I was out of town. I missed their stupid retardedness so much. I love me a FuzzyButt and Moopers.
I”m never happier than when I’m at a zoo with my honeypie. That one kinda speaks for itself.
Grant and me on our 5 year 1st date anniversary.
I’m going to be a photographer at a wedding in 2 weeks. Woo Hoo! I’m terrified that I’ll fuck it all up, but deep down I know I won’t. I usually take pretty darn good pictures, so hopefully I won’t go blind between now and then. A friend of mine has been with her guy for 17 years (and she’s only like 35!) and they are finally tying the knot. Can you see why I’d be scared to death to have that responsibility? But I figure if I take 2000 pics, I can find at least 10 that’ll be presentable. Keep your fingers crossed, please!!
Quartz countertops stain. DON’T BELIEVE ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU THEY DON’T!!! Liars!!! We just redid our kitchen and when deciding on a countertop I told the lady that we needed something that wouldn’t stain. I was willing to get a super-dark counter (even though the white is so pretty and clean looking) if it meant that it would be worry free. The LIAR told me that I could let coffee and red wine sit on the white quartz for 2 years and it wouldn’t stain. Ummmm…NOT TRUE! My brand new, expensive countertop SUCKS. The countertop inspector guy is coming over in an hour to look at it. I can only hope he can figure something out because if I have to sue Home Depot, I will.
I have THE best Mommy ever!The more I hear people’s stories, and see first hand, what other people have had to deal with when they have moms that aren’t so sweet and loving, I appreciate my mommy more and more. I’m pretty sure my mom has never said an unkind word to me in my entire life. My mom is a sweet little Southern Baptist and when I was in my teens I dressed like a street whore and listened to AC/DC. She never once made me feel judged or unloved. Ultimately, I was a pretty good girl. Yeah, I drank my share and may have puffed off of a few things that burned, but I was always a nice kid and never got into really bad things. I mean, I never went to school, but I ended up pretty well in terms of education. Through all of this, my mom never criticized me. Don’t get me wrong, she was tough. We couldn’t cuss (can you IMAGINE????). We had ridiculously early curfews and got severely grounded if we were late. She didn’t put up with any backtalk or any bullshit, but she understood that we were individuals, so she let us fly high our freak flags. God bless a good mommy.
Yep, that’s me 100 years ago with a can of Busch beer and no, that is not cigarette smoke in the air.

Okay, I’ve got to go get ready for the kitchen inspector. If you actually stayed the course and read this tome, bless your heart. I was just having Random Thought Friday and thought I’d share. Have a great weekend, everyone! XOXO

PS: I know “countertop” is two words, but it should be one word, so I took a stand!

Oct 5 2012

I’m going to cry. I never cry, but I’m gonna. Poop.

My sweet babies Chipmunk Chicken and Mouthy

As you guys know, for Christmas my wonderful hubby surprised me with 2 sweet baby chickens. I’d wanted chickens for years and years and I was so excited. We went and picked out our little furry guys; one we named Chipmunk Chicken because he looked like a chipmunk and the other we named Mouthy because she made so much adorable noise. Grant built them a big wooden coop and a fenced-in yard with a sunroof so they wouldn’t overheat in the blistering hot summer. They live in chicken paradise.

Well, Chipmunk Chicken grew up to be a boy–quite the surprise, but he was just so cute and sweet it didn’t even matter. Although I’m sure it probably mattered to our little girl chicken as she was the victim of chicken rape about 10 times a day. Poor little critter.

Look ma! I can stand on one leg! I’m a talented chicken!

The great thing about our chickens was that since I raised them since they were a week old, they knew me and every time I’d come outside they’d get all excited and start making noise and running around like crazy chickens. It was pure awesomeness.

Until Wednesday. Animal control dropped by and threatened us with a $2,500 fine and up to 6 months in the pokey if we didn’t get rid of our grown up Chipmunk Raper chicken. I could rob a 7-11 or molest a goat and get less time in jail. Apparently, one of our other (dick!) neighbors complained. Now, I understand if we lived in a quiet neighborhood that my chicken may have been noisy and annoying, but all you ever hear is a cacophony of a million dogs barking all day and night. Non-stop. Loudly. Irritatingly. My chicken, by comparison, was mute.

Fear the chicken wrath! I’m a big chicken!

So, I asked my nextdoor neighbor (who the day before asked me if we wanted any of their hens as they were about to chop all their heads off–NOOOOO!) if she knew of anywhere that would take my beloved little chicken and not kill him. I also asked if she’d sent her chickens to heaven yet and if not, could I have one for my soon-to-be-lonely little hen? She, being an AWESOME neighbor, asked a relative who owns a farm if they’d take my little critter without beheading him and they agreed. Thank God. We did the chicken swap yesterday and now I have my Mouthy chicken and a new chicken, but no Chipmunk Rapey chicken anymore.

Happiest chicken mommy ever to have lived.

I guess it’s good because at least we got to save one from the chopping block in my neighbor’s backyard, but I miss my little pet so much. And I’m not the only one. My Mouthy chicken, who got much quieter as she got older, won’t stop crying. Now, I know you think I’ve crossed the line into insanity when I say that. I mean, can a chicken be sad? I know I can sometimes personify animals, but this chicken went from hardly making a sound the last 6 months to making this pathetic little warble. She just sits there, not moving, and making the saddest, most plaintive little noises. Even when I go into their yard to play with her, she just sits there crying her little chicken cry. There are few things on earth that sound sadder than that. I know she misses him. They were always together. Honest to goodness, never more than 2 feet apart. They slept cuddled together. They roosted together. They played together. It was so damn precious.

Here’s a video of my little babies the day we brought them home. Beware, I have my my mommy voice goin’ on so I sound a bit like a dim bulb idiot tard, but you’ll be able to tell I’m obviously in love with the little buggers.

Anyway, just wanted to share my sad little chicken story. My heart’s kinda broken…

May 23 2012

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!

I love furry things. Most of you know that by now. The furrier the better. So, I thought I’d share with you a few of my favorite pics from over the years. I love photography and would happily sit in a jungle all day (well, one without mosquitoes) to get pictures of cute critters.

Hang on, did I just write a post with no sarcasm? Hmmm…not sure I know what to do with that.

I LOVE HIS FURRY LITTLE NOGGIN! I wanna eat him!!!

Think he’d let me nuzzle his neck without eating my face?

I LOVE HIM!!! He was eating a banana I gave him. When I turned these pics in, 100 years ago, to get them cropped, the owner of the photography studio stole my negatives, entered my pictures into a wildlife photography contest and won awards with my sweet little groundhog pics. I sincerely wanted to burn his house to the ground.