No Words

Tonight, there are no words to describe how it feels to have a tragedy in your world. Before 2 pm today, a suicidal teenager entered a mall in Omaha and opened fire. Current reports are 9 dead (including the teen) and 5 injured (2 critically). Complete coverage on CNN and MSNBC.

My thoughts and prayers to all affected by this horrific act.

Why Some People Shouldn't Breed...

I was watching a documentary on MSNBC last night about runaways. Yeah, I'm a dork like that - its one of my favorite channels. Anyway, back to runaways. While watching it, I heard the saddest and yet, funniest line ever!

There was a kid featured named Josh who is 17. He was thrown in jail for carrying around homemade num chucks that his Mom made. Ok, stop there and ponder these thoughts:

1. What kind of mother gives their child a lethal weapon?
2. What kind of mother thinks to make said lethal weapon?

Back with me now? The story gets better....

So, the num chuck makin' momma calls street boy's girlfriend to say she's coming down to see her son because she feels bad that he got arrested for carrying around her "gift". After num chuck makin' momma and street boy are reunited, they have this conversation:

Son: Do you want to see our tent?

Num Chuck Makin' Momma: Sure but first we stop for alcohol and cigarettes.

Now, that was disturbing enough. Perhaps she's forgotten that her son is, I don't know, 17 and not of legal age to drink. Then she says this beauty:

"Today, I think I'm going to hang out with my son and see what life on the streets is like. You know, be involved."

I swear to God and all things holy, I was howling with laughter at that line. Yes, you read it right, that was her idea of being involved in her son's life.

For the record, I have absolutely no idea how to spell Num Chuck - is it like that or is it Numbchuck? Two words? One Word?

Name Game

Since I whined and bitched asked so nicely, Sasha tagged me for the latest MeMe:

1. Witness Protection Name (mother's and father's middle names): X Joseph - no my mom's middle name isn't X, she doesn't have one. Besides, how cool would the name X be???

2. NASCAR Name (first name of your mother's dad and father's dad): Edwin James - that just totally doesn't sound neck enough to me.

3. Star Wars Name (first three letters of your last name, two of your first): JarKa

4. Detective Name (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Gorrilla

5. Soap Opera Name (middle name, city where you were born): Marie Pawtucket

6. Superhero Name (2nd favorite color, favorite drink, add "the" to the beginning): The Purple Wine - didn't Prince have a song like that?? Oh wait, that was Purple Rain.

7. Fly Girl/Guy Name (1st two letters of your first name, last two of your last): Cael - now that totally sounds like it should be my Neck name....

8. Gangsta Name (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Coffee Oatmeal Scotchie - yeah, I'm gonna sound real Gansta with that name. Watch out before I sweeten you to death.

9. Rock Star Name (first pet's name, childhood street name): Valentine Central - rock star name??? Not so much - how about porn name?

10. Stripper Name (favorite perfume/cologne, favorite candy): Beautiful Almond Joy

Now, I tag anyone who wants to do this. Just, if you do it, drop me a comment and let me know so I can laugh at your names too! (No that wasn't another shameless plug for comments....yeah, ok it was!)

Mai Tai's, Sake Bombs, and Beer - Oh My

Due to the nasty ice storm we were expecting here in the midwest this Saturday, the trip to Kansas City was cancelled. In lieu of KC, we decided have our dignified girl get together here in town.

You see, my sister is one of those horribly accomplished people you just hate. It appears that everything she touches turns to gold. She has a bachelor's degree and two master's. I'm lucky I have my high school diploma. She is a true intellectual who writes well and teaches college English. To date, I still have not told her I have a blog because (A) I know that my writing is no where near her level and (B) there are just some things sister's shouldn't know about each other! So, I was expecting a quiet night with the girls. I figured it would consist of dinner with some nice wine that I couldn't pronounce nor afford and some dignified conversation. To be honest, I was dreading it. I kept picturing the episode of Friends where Joey bought the "V" encyclopedia so he could converse with the group.

Except - it wasn't. It wasn't dignified. It wasn't filled with wine. It wasn't intellectual. It was a true gutter girls party and I LOVED it.

We met at a Sushi place which was great except I don't eat fish but whatever. I got there before anyone and settled at the bar for some harmless flirting conversation with the very cute bartender. I was nursing my Mai Tai (the drink special of the night) figuring I'd switch to Coke or water at dinner since I had to drive. All of a sudden, this loud, noisy, obnoxious group of girls walked in. You guessed it - my party! They were all a bit toasty after spending the whole afternoon at the bar. I do believe the first words my sister whispered to me were, "I'm wasted". Ahhhh, people on my level.

After much discussion, it was determined that I was joining this party and leaving my car (read: Hubby's car) at the restaurant and I was their captive for the night. We settled at the table were rounds of Sake Bombs were passed (like a Boilermaker except with beer and Sake). Every time I turned around, there was a new Mai Tai in front of me. Although, I have sneaking suspicions that my beloved sister was drinking them. Many a toast were made and a few tears were shed (mostly mine). Did you know that they don't have silverware at these places? You are expected to eat with chopsticks. Yeah, so not happening, especially when one fell on the floor. Like the Mai Tai's, I think my sister ate most of my nicely cooked beef (no fish for me, thankyouverymuch, raw or otherwise).

We left the restaurant much poorer, way drunker, and a lot rowdier than we entered. Then it was time to go back to the bar. We all piled into one car. There was the driver and the bride up front and four of us (yes, FOUR) and one blow up doll in the back. How we didn't get pulled over going down the interstate I'll never know. We spent a lot of time in the back of that car molesting the poor blow up doll and making cracks about her anatonomy.

Finally we arrived at our destination. A lovely little bar called Chicks. Did I mention it was a gay bar? No? An oversight, I swear. I don't know whether to be relieved or insulted that NOT ONE lesbian hit on me. Not one. I must exude that "straight" vibe.

So, the night was a huge success and my sister's friends were all great. One offered to be my girlfriend for the night and I gotta say she was pretty freaking hot. They were all very concerned about whether or not I was having a good time and made sure my glass stayed full. Now, we are all ready for the wedding and I couldn't be happier for my baby sister. She's an amazing person who has been there for me through the good times and the really dark days. She deserves every happiness in the world and her fiance is a great guy. However, I did warn him that if he hurts her I will have to make a eunuch out of him.

I'm Screwed

Apparently whomever was reading from "The Pentagon" must have referred my blog over to the US Department of Justice. According to my trusty sitemeter, someone from there has been reading. Was it the stealing? Is it because strange people find my blog through weird google searches? Either way, I'm toast. Dark brown, burnt and crispy.

Therefore, I must say the following things to some strange folks out there:

1. To the person who did a google search with these search words "butthole itches and can't poo": I feel your pain. I really and truly do. There is NOTHING worse than an itchy starfish. I recommend a laxative. Once you poo, it usually takes care of the itchy starfish.

2. To the person who did a google search with these search words "mama and boy sex": OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. How in the name of all things holy did that search lead you to me? You are perverted and sick and perverted and just wrong. Did I mention perverted? Stay. AWAY!

Now, moving on:

Dear Dept of Justice reader,

I promise you that I will make every effort to stop with the kleptomania. It is a sickness and Hubby is trying to stop me. I will attend 12 steps. I will manacle my hands. Whatever it takes. Please do not arrest me.

I promise that I have returned my summons to Federal Jury Duty. I plan on calling next week to check my juror status. If called apon, I will serve. I promise to not blog about it until after the case. Please do not arrest me.

I promise that I have never EVER written anything about child porn. The only references to sex and my children have been in how to scar my oldest to prevent him from having sex. I'm trying to do my part to keep down teenage pregnancy. I'm preaching abstinence (even if I'm not practicing it). Please please do not arrest me.

Sincerely,

Kate


Disclaimer: this post is intended to be very tongue in cheek. It is in no way an admission of guilt on my part for any past or future actions. Except for the part of the pervo that is suffering Oedipus Complex. He really needs to stay away. If the DOJ reader was just cruising by, I hope they like what they read!

Today Is NOT My Day

Ever had one of those days? Of course you have. One of those days where you almost hope you can be like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day and go back and start over. That's me - Today.

I'm off to Kansas City this weekend for a girls night out. Its more of a quasi bachelorette party for my sister but without the male strippers. Hopefully, there will be wine. All week the weather people have been predicting ugly weather. When does it start? Friday night. When do I leave? Saturday afternoon. Good times.

I'm also supposed to go to the dentist on Saturday. Have I mentioned that I have a deathly fear of the dentist? No? Yeah - its that bad. White face, cold sweat, swirly stomach, the whole nine yards. On the bright side (for the dentist anyway) my mouth is probably going to cost enough to send one of his kids through college. I wonder if dentures are cheaper?

How on earth does all that above tie into having one of those days? Well, let me tell you. I would normally decorate my tree this weekend. Since I'm not going to be there, I've been scrambling to get it done the last couple of days. However, every year, I have a tree disaster. There was the year I checked all my lights and they all worked so I put them on the tree. Only to find out the middle third of the tree wouldn't light up. Then the next year I got all prepared to do the tree to open the box and discover I was out of lights since I had thrown out the bastarding things the year before when they didn't work. I always seem to run one strand short too. Something that is always discovered when I'm at the bottom of the tree. Which usually involves an emergency trip to Target. At which time I always end up buying 2 sets *just to be safe* to discover I've bought a set with white wire. Getting the picture?

So, this year, in anticipation, I prepurchased 2 extra sets of lights. I double checked to make sure they were green wire. Check and Check. I was in good shape. I put all 10 strands (Yes - 10) on the tree and everything was great. Until I told Shaggy to get the garland. Ahhhhh Christmas disaster strikes. I had thrown out the garland. So, tonight on the way home, I make another emergency trip to Target to get the garland. 4 things of it. Check and Check. I get hope and start putting the garland on the tree. Yep - not enough! I restrung that damn garland 4 times hoping I could make it stretch before realizing that 4 strings of it wasn't going to cover this tree all the way round. Next plan of attack? Pushing the tree back and just doing the front, ghetto fabulous style. I get under the tree preparing to push it back and realize I've wound the extra bit of lights around the tree so tighly, I cut the cord. Dammit - Christmas disaster!

After yet ANOTHER emergency trip to Target, to purchase and extra set of lights and more garland, that part of the tree is done and I now feel like the Grinch. Fucking Christmas Tree.

However, earlier in the day, I pulled a stunt that totally demonstrates my lack of common sense. I was attempting to call Hubby (who's cell ends with 53 and mine ends with 51). As the phone was ringing, I hear my cell phone start buzzing. I manage to grab it and see that it says work. Now, you might ask - why would work be calling if I was there? Well, its kind of a running joke since our resident Sybil likes to call from our shop because, and I quote, "I'm too lazy to get up and walk over to the office". So, we do it to each other because we all find ourselves incredibily amusing. I answer my cell phone and I get nothing. I double check, yep it says work and it was definitely a call. So, there I am standing there with a phone at each ear. I also realize I never heard Hubby answer so I hang up the land line phone and I'm still trying to figure out who the heck was calling me. Slowly, it dawns on me. You dumbass, you called yourself. Yeah - I'm the blondest redhead you'll ever meet. Of course, I started laughing like a hyena which brought Satan and our secretary running to find out what was so funny. So, now everyone knows what I did and I'm pretty sure its only a matter of time before they start calling me Corky again.

Like I said, Good times, Good times!

8 Random/Interesting Things About Moi

The goooooorgeous Sasha tagged me for this since I bitched whined so much about being left out of her last MeMe. So, she tags me and what do I do? Put it off for the last week. Yeah, I know, slacker. As a matter of fact, if I can stop slacking, I have a whole post about me slacking. Stay tuned. (You're on the edge of your seat right now, aren't you?)

I don't know if these will be interesting but they are certainly random:

1. I lived in England from 1984 to 1993. I attended Jr High and High School over there. I totally loved my time there and spent from 1991 to 1993 living as a Brit with my Brit husband (who is not my husband anymore and is more commonly referred to as that Ass or Sperm Donor or Stoopid Ugly DooDoo Head). While I lived there, I gave birth in a British hospital - not recommended and not a horror story I will share unless asked for. I don't want to scare any childless people.

2. My mom signed me up for ballet when I was 4 in the hopes I would gain some coordination and grace. It didn't help. I still walk into door frames and I sprained my ankle at work about 2 years ago by tripping on a handicap ramp. Yes, a handicap ramp.

3. Only 1 of my 3 children were conceived in wedlock and only 2 were born in wedlock. I have 3 children and 2 daddies. I love to shock people with this. I love to see them stutter for the appropriate response.

4. I have been called grandma twice while out shopping with Abby. Now, I know I'm not 20 but HELLOOOOO I don't think I look 50. The second time was by some wrinkled old raisin of a cashier at Target who could easily have been twice my age.

5. When we moved to England, I was 12 and I only had 1 book to read - 'Salems Lot by Stephen King. After reading this, I wouldn't sleep with a window open for 5 years and I used to check my sister's teeth at night to make sure she hadn't morphed into a vampire.

6. I once ran from the police. NOT. ONE. OF. MY. PROUDER. MOMENTS. BUT, I will say this, it is a damn funny story that again, I will share if asked.

7. I am terrible with money. If I have a dime in my pocket, I will find a way to spend it 100 times over. One of these days, Hubby's going to take away my debit card. I can't leave the house to pick up one thing and not spend $30 to $50. Often times, I do this even when we don't have $20 in the checking account. Its a disease.

8. I'm really intelligent but I have ZERO common sense. I can learn anything put in front of me but watching mystery shows on TV or reading a mystery novel, I'm ALWAYS surprised at the ending. I'm so not mechanically inclined either. I don't even know how to set my alarm clock. I have to have Hubby set it for me before he goes to Pennsylvania every time and then remind me how to turn it on. If the TV isn't work, I have to call Shaggy to the rescue. (Hey, have you SEEN those digital remotes??? You have to have a mechanical engineering degree to figure it out).

Now, I tag Tina and Deb and Mrs Whogas because they are the only people who's blogs I read regularly that haven't been tagged for this. Tina - because she's sweet and always does them. Deb - because she's just flat out interesting and I want to be her when I grow up. Mrs. Whogas - because she's like me.

PS - again, with the mechanically not inclined, I can't figure out how to do the link thingy on a Mac since I don't have one of those little buttons up there so I'll add the links when I get home.

PSS - I was just reading Tina's and she got tagged with one to list 7 things so she's off the hook but owes me ONE MORE!