And Thoughts.
1. Normal people do not care nor worry about that (P) lame chick, and who exposed her or whatever the heck. Nobody cares. Seriously.
2. I am sick and tired of people who have nothing better to say than, "Bush is an idiot." That's all they say. Wow, great argument there bub. I'm impressed.
3. I hope Israel kicks the crap out of Hezbollah, and the rest of those ankle beating random civilian beheading swine. Pigs. You're not fit to eat after my dog.
4. People who complain about people who complain are hypocrites and usually the biggest complainers of all. Quit yer whining, pussies.
5. My mom's favorite foods to have are chili, soup and pie, she always has at least one of those on hand at all times. My poor dad.
6. Kim jong il.
7. Tired of people who hate America, but won't leave it.
8. France.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
Why?
Must I Suck So Bad?
Seriously. I can never find time to get on here and beat out something witty and smart. These days I spend my time sitting in my friend's hot tub talking about how much better looking Bush is than Kerry. My friend always starts it, she thinks it is funny to get me worked up. She usually starts with something like, "Oh I hope Hillary runs!" And It Is On.
We should be moving next week. I'm beside myself with joy about that idea. It's been too long, I repeat, It's been too long. The last two months I have pretty much woke up every day thinking, "what fresh hell is it today?" That's bad, and let me tell ya, it has been bad, and that's all I'm going to say on it. Just know that the last 8 months have been a sort of hell I wouldn't wish on anyone.
What's new? I think I'm psychic. Yep. Before we settled on this house, we thought about buying quite a nice house near my parents. We actually knew the peeps who used to live there. It was a husband and wife, he was American, retired military and she was a Korean lady he married years ago. My father in law used to be somewhat friends with him, but I heard the old guy was a pervert from a girl I know who his wife babysat years and years ago. Anyway, my husband said he remembered the old guy saying something pretty nasty to him when he was a young teen ager when they went on a fishing trip. Whatever it was, and I know what it was, but it's way too nasty to repeat made my hubby's dad so angry he said, "Get in the car, we're leaving." and they did.
So the old fart had one thing going for him, he took good care of his house, and his Korean lady took good care of him until she got sick with the brain tumor and passed away. She was actually a nice lady, and I often saw her squatting in their perfectly manicured front lawn picking at itty bitty tiny baby weeds before they ever had a chance to grow, or at least I imagined that's what she must have been doing squatting in the yard for so long and so often. He was not all that well when his lady died, he was on oxygen and was not in the greatest of health himself, never the less he did manage to find himself another Korean lady and make her his wife, which was good for her I guess since it cleared up some nasty tangle with immigration. She took over picking at the teeny tiny baby weeds, and my sister remarked one day that he went out and got himself a new Korean lady.
She must have taken good care of him because he left her everything, and that would be fitting since he didn't have any children anyway. So she lives in the house now, but it's for sale. My husband said, "get that house!" It is a nice house, and I thought seriously about getting it, but then I realized that the ironic thing would be that we would spend the next however many years looking out our front window everyday at his first girlfriend's mother's house. I didn't like the idea at all since I really don't want to be friends with her, or have her looking over and seeing me come home with groceries and stuff.
Plus, and I'm serious here, the house had bad energy to me. I thought long and hard because I knew the price was very good with the condition of the house, much nicer than a lot of the houses I've seen in that price range, but something just would not let me make the call even though I promised my husband I would. At first I protested and said, "no, a pervert lived there, I don't want to live in a pervert house, who knows what kind bad stuff lurks there." Hubby thought that was sort of silly, he was thinking purely of the business transaction and not the living in the house. Finally, I agreed to look into it, and make the call while he was away on the rig.
Then I had the dream, the scary one where I'm in the house, and the downstairs is definitely haunted. There was lots of bad stuff in there. I felt it very strongly. The dream was quite disturbing, but I still made the call. I left a message, the lady never called back. Daddy in law decided to sell, and thankfully hubby was interested. He forgot the creepy house. I didn't. I'm so glad the lady never called.
Oh but that is not all. One night I'm driving past the house and I see something strange in the immaculate yard. It's a coat. It's standing up, and in the dark it looks like a body coming out of the ground. It stands there, a lone apparition in the perfect green grass. At first I didn't know what it was, in day light I saw what it was. It still looks strange.
My brother noticed the thing as well. We pondered it for days. We asked everyone else, did you see the weird coat in the yard? Yes, they all had, they all found it odd and out of place. What was ever more bothersome was the thing moved around the yard, and frankly that really freaked me out, didn't the lady know it was there, who was moving it? Finally we decide one night we cannot take it any longer, we've got to walk by the house and see the thing close up, discover some meaning to it. We get the dog, we start our walk. As we approach the yard, Toby is walking along then he spots the inanimate object in the dark, it is crawling out of the ground. Toby stops, he stares, he takes a stance and growls at the coat. Toby backs away, and we continue on, not wanting to draw attention to our curiosity.
We discuss Toby's unusual reaction. We decide the thing freaked him out too. We walk on further and decide to turn around and go back by and see what Toby does a second time around. This time my brother lets go of the leash, we watch and the dog runs up to the thing, sniffs it, and just like that pees on the thing. We didn't mean for him to, but after that we both decide the thing isn't scary anymore, just odd and out of place. In the next day or so the coat was gone. I don't know what happened to it, or why it left after being there for a couple of weeks.
See, I knew there was something wrong with that house. That whole business with the coat was strange, and I knew all along things were not right with that house. The other day I was driving by with my daughter and her friend, and the little girl said, "that house is haunted," just out of the blue. She saw it too. The house is still for sale, the price is quite nice, I don't know why it is still sitting there. Yes, I'm quite aware of how flaky I sound.
I better get to bed. Night.
Seriously. I can never find time to get on here and beat out something witty and smart. These days I spend my time sitting in my friend's hot tub talking about how much better looking Bush is than Kerry. My friend always starts it, she thinks it is funny to get me worked up. She usually starts with something like, "Oh I hope Hillary runs!" And It Is On.
We should be moving next week. I'm beside myself with joy about that idea. It's been too long, I repeat, It's been too long. The last two months I have pretty much woke up every day thinking, "what fresh hell is it today?" That's bad, and let me tell ya, it has been bad, and that's all I'm going to say on it. Just know that the last 8 months have been a sort of hell I wouldn't wish on anyone.
What's new? I think I'm psychic. Yep. Before we settled on this house, we thought about buying quite a nice house near my parents. We actually knew the peeps who used to live there. It was a husband and wife, he was American, retired military and she was a Korean lady he married years ago. My father in law used to be somewhat friends with him, but I heard the old guy was a pervert from a girl I know who his wife babysat years and years ago. Anyway, my husband said he remembered the old guy saying something pretty nasty to him when he was a young teen ager when they went on a fishing trip. Whatever it was, and I know what it was, but it's way too nasty to repeat made my hubby's dad so angry he said, "Get in the car, we're leaving." and they did.
So the old fart had one thing going for him, he took good care of his house, and his Korean lady took good care of him until she got sick with the brain tumor and passed away. She was actually a nice lady, and I often saw her squatting in their perfectly manicured front lawn picking at itty bitty tiny baby weeds before they ever had a chance to grow, or at least I imagined that's what she must have been doing squatting in the yard for so long and so often. He was not all that well when his lady died, he was on oxygen and was not in the greatest of health himself, never the less he did manage to find himself another Korean lady and make her his wife, which was good for her I guess since it cleared up some nasty tangle with immigration. She took over picking at the teeny tiny baby weeds, and my sister remarked one day that he went out and got himself a new Korean lady.
She must have taken good care of him because he left her everything, and that would be fitting since he didn't have any children anyway. So she lives in the house now, but it's for sale. My husband said, "get that house!" It is a nice house, and I thought seriously about getting it, but then I realized that the ironic thing would be that we would spend the next however many years looking out our front window everyday at his first girlfriend's mother's house. I didn't like the idea at all since I really don't want to be friends with her, or have her looking over and seeing me come home with groceries and stuff.
Plus, and I'm serious here, the house had bad energy to me. I thought long and hard because I knew the price was very good with the condition of the house, much nicer than a lot of the houses I've seen in that price range, but something just would not let me make the call even though I promised my husband I would. At first I protested and said, "no, a pervert lived there, I don't want to live in a pervert house, who knows what kind bad stuff lurks there." Hubby thought that was sort of silly, he was thinking purely of the business transaction and not the living in the house. Finally, I agreed to look into it, and make the call while he was away on the rig.
Then I had the dream, the scary one where I'm in the house, and the downstairs is definitely haunted. There was lots of bad stuff in there. I felt it very strongly. The dream was quite disturbing, but I still made the call. I left a message, the lady never called back. Daddy in law decided to sell, and thankfully hubby was interested. He forgot the creepy house. I didn't. I'm so glad the lady never called.
Oh but that is not all. One night I'm driving past the house and I see something strange in the immaculate yard. It's a coat. It's standing up, and in the dark it looks like a body coming out of the ground. It stands there, a lone apparition in the perfect green grass. At first I didn't know what it was, in day light I saw what it was. It still looks strange.
My brother noticed the thing as well. We pondered it for days. We asked everyone else, did you see the weird coat in the yard? Yes, they all had, they all found it odd and out of place. What was ever more bothersome was the thing moved around the yard, and frankly that really freaked me out, didn't the lady know it was there, who was moving it? Finally we decide one night we cannot take it any longer, we've got to walk by the house and see the thing close up, discover some meaning to it. We get the dog, we start our walk. As we approach the yard, Toby is walking along then he spots the inanimate object in the dark, it is crawling out of the ground. Toby stops, he stares, he takes a stance and growls at the coat. Toby backs away, and we continue on, not wanting to draw attention to our curiosity.
We discuss Toby's unusual reaction. We decide the thing freaked him out too. We walk on further and decide to turn around and go back by and see what Toby does a second time around. This time my brother lets go of the leash, we watch and the dog runs up to the thing, sniffs it, and just like that pees on the thing. We didn't mean for him to, but after that we both decide the thing isn't scary anymore, just odd and out of place. In the next day or so the coat was gone. I don't know what happened to it, or why it left after being there for a couple of weeks.
See, I knew there was something wrong with that house. That whole business with the coat was strange, and I knew all along things were not right with that house. The other day I was driving by with my daughter and her friend, and the little girl said, "that house is haunted," just out of the blue. She saw it too. The house is still for sale, the price is quite nice, I don't know why it is still sitting there. Yes, I'm quite aware of how flaky I sound.
I better get to bed. Night.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Have You Heard of the Freegans?
Eat A Bagel.
Recently my friend told me of the freegans, I admit I laughed my ass off when she did. I thought I knew some kooky people, but this is too much. Apparently she read in the newspaper a story of people who live solely off of the things that society throws away, for example, they hang around outside bagel shops and get free food when the bagels are thrown out, etc. Now everywhere we go it's "move it you friggin freegan," this, and "look at this frickin' freegan" that.
I remember as a small child the first time we came to this town on vacation just a year or so before we moved here, we stayed in a little cabin on the west side of town right near the mountain, and I almost embarrassed my parents to death and even risked them being attacked by hippies when I spotted one peeing in the middle of the street and screamed, "Mom! Look! A Hippy is peeing in the street!" It was from that moment on that I held a distrust for hippies, and have viewed them as sort of dirty and strange ever since.
Admittedly these freegans sound much the same to me. I don't trust people who eat other people's garbage. Call me snotty, but it's really only acceptable when one is doing it out of necessity, and with church pantries, and many other such food banks and soup kitchens available, well one must really be in a bad place to rummage through a dumpster for food.
And another thing, I don't trust people who think rubbing certain rocks on their pits is really going to keep them from stinking, but I've actually met people who think that it works. While I'm at it, I'm so freaking over Vegans. Go stuff a turkey with yourself you snotty assholes. I'm not giving up meat. Ever. Shut up about it, and how you "are a vegan for the "right" reasons, unlike those people who do it for religious reasons." Give me a break okay. These are the same people who think nothing of yanking a developing baby from the womb.
Okay, I admit, I am a bit of a freegan in that if I see a nice item on the side of the road with a sign that says, "FREE" on it, I will stop and give it a look see, and maybe even call my husband to come and help me load it up. I got a really nice desk that way, but I draw the line at eating garbage. That's just the thing it's not that it's so wrong to make use of stuff going to the trash, that I can actually respect in a way. It's just that people who usually spend their time doing so are the type to make a habit of rubbing rocks on their pits in lieu of deodorant as well.
Recently my friend told me of the freegans, I admit I laughed my ass off when she did. I thought I knew some kooky people, but this is too much. Apparently she read in the newspaper a story of people who live solely off of the things that society throws away, for example, they hang around outside bagel shops and get free food when the bagels are thrown out, etc. Now everywhere we go it's "move it you friggin freegan," this, and "look at this frickin' freegan" that.
I remember as a small child the first time we came to this town on vacation just a year or so before we moved here, we stayed in a little cabin on the west side of town right near the mountain, and I almost embarrassed my parents to death and even risked them being attacked by hippies when I spotted one peeing in the middle of the street and screamed, "Mom! Look! A Hippy is peeing in the street!" It was from that moment on that I held a distrust for hippies, and have viewed them as sort of dirty and strange ever since.
Admittedly these freegans sound much the same to me. I don't trust people who eat other people's garbage. Call me snotty, but it's really only acceptable when one is doing it out of necessity, and with church pantries, and many other such food banks and soup kitchens available, well one must really be in a bad place to rummage through a dumpster for food.
And another thing, I don't trust people who think rubbing certain rocks on their pits is really going to keep them from stinking, but I've actually met people who think that it works. While I'm at it, I'm so freaking over Vegans. Go stuff a turkey with yourself you snotty assholes. I'm not giving up meat. Ever. Shut up about it, and how you "are a vegan for the "right" reasons, unlike those people who do it for religious reasons." Give me a break okay. These are the same people who think nothing of yanking a developing baby from the womb.
Okay, I admit, I am a bit of a freegan in that if I see a nice item on the side of the road with a sign that says, "FREE" on it, I will stop and give it a look see, and maybe even call my husband to come and help me load it up. I got a really nice desk that way, but I draw the line at eating garbage. That's just the thing it's not that it's so wrong to make use of stuff going to the trash, that I can actually respect in a way. It's just that people who usually spend their time doing so are the type to make a habit of rubbing rocks on their pits in lieu of deodorant as well.
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