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Archive for November, 2000

|| November 28, 2000 || 9:25 am || Comments (0) ||

For the purpose of general clarification, I am not bitter….just a bit tart. >:o)

|| November 28, 2000 || 9:23 am || Comments (0) ||

w00t! Mountain Dew (proudly manufactured and distributed by Pepsico) rocks my dumb ass at 7 a.m.

|| November 27, 2000 || 11:57 pm || Comments (0) ||

I am listening to Pure 70’s and I am thinking evil thoughts. I have a sadistic grin on my face as I do all of the above.

In other news, my mom and dad are here. DAMN, what a hoot.

Shall I give you a pat explanation? Okay, you twisted my arm. I will.

For future reference (and past too, for that matter), you should be aware that I call my stepfather ‘dad’. When I refer to my father (a.k.a. ‘Daddy-Warbucks-Who-Ain’t-Gonna-Spend-It-On-Anyone-’Cept-Himself) I am acknowledging He Who Donated Half My Biological Make-Up. Clear on that one, plebes?

So my mom and dad are here. It is always a riot and a half when I spend time with my dad. He is all wry humor and one-liners and they are never repeat one-liners. Fresh material every time. In case you didn’t realize it, that is a strong indicator of a sharp mind/intellect. He is so, so, so clever and that alone makes me love him. It is second only to the marvelous way that he reveres my mother in my list of things to dig about him.

One really funny thing about his visits is the fact that he finds it necessary to undertake a ‘project’ every time he abides under my roof, however brief the stay might be. One time I commented that I hated my cabinet doors and their grody pattern/hardware combo, just sort of offhand, not one of those ‘hint-hint’ comments that you sometimes ply your parents with. Well, I went off to work and when I came home 7.5 hours later, my whole kitchen was sporting new cabinetry. We’re talkin’ a LOT of cabinets here, folks.

Well, my mom and I bundled the toddler for an excursion today. Dad opted to stay at the house, as we would not be gone long. Two eldest chirrens opted for fun and heckling with Papaw. Shortly before mom and bambino and I left, dad says, “Hey hon, what’s this over here?

Well, he knew damned well it was our new satellite dish, which had not been installed yet. I have 4 boxes still packed in the hallway and I have explained to my husband that I’ll be fucked if the satellite dish goes up before those boxes get unpacked and I get a Christmas tree put up. SO, he has conveniently stayed just busy enough to avoid putting said dish up (and, AHEM, to unpack those last 4 boxes). We don’t watch much boob tube anyhow, so no big deal.

“It’s our satellite dish, dad….we’ve not had time to mess with it.”

“Hmm.” he says knowingly, nodding at the same time. Mom and I look at each other and smirk as he busily observes the box and its contents. “Go find Papaw a hammer, son,” he says to my oldest boy. “Sis, go get our coats,” he says to my daughter. “Typical.” says my mother. We leave.

We come back two hours later to feed him and children and find that he has moved the dish all over the yard and is not getting the proper signal. “96 or better!” is his battle cry on this particular day. I remark that the 74 that he has been consistently getting is suitable enough. He gives me that “You blame crazy woman” look and I go in to rustle up some grub.

Mom and I leave again as he is departing for Radio Shack. More cable seems to be the mission. He is also muttering something about azimuths and global trajectories….who the fuck knows?

When we return two MORE hours later, my son is observing something, perplexed, in a mirror image of his granddad. My daughter, Little Miss Tattle Pants, marches to the car and expertly informs us, “Not done. Don’t ask.” Mom and I decide an afternoon nap is in order and go into the house to tuck the baby in.

One gossip session, two cups of cocoa, and a start of dinner later, the dish was installed. At 8:30 CST tonight, we re-joined the world of digital television reception.

Thanks, dad. I like the ways you convey your love to me. I adore you and I couldn’t have hand-picked a better man for my mom. And for me. And for my children. You embody what a good man should be.

|| November 25, 2000 || 5:07 pm || Comments (0) ||

You can go here. ‘Cause I like it.

Rejoice that I’m giving a good link, ’cause I’m always telling everyone to go to hell.

But until I am ready to tell you to go to hell again, go there.

|| November 22, 2000 || 6:35 pm || Comments (0) ||

“For a start, I’ve got to be out of my head to write.” Shane MacGowan

How can you NOT love someone who renders a quote like that? Excess and moral turpitude…thank you God for making Shane and Nick (Cave), et al…..

I had an amazing thing happen today. Someone is going to send my ass to web design class and buy me a couple of pieces of nifty (EXPENSIVE) software just so’s I can/will build them a site. WOO HOOOOOOO! They are ALSO PAYING ME. And I don’t even have to suck one dick or show my tits or anything. I ROCK! Hang around long enough and you will, too…..sometimes cool rubs off, harhar.

|| November 21, 2000 || 10:02 pm || Comments (0) ||

It did, it did!!! Now my links are like little surprises!

If I were general readership, that shit would piss me off. Note to self: RESET DEFAULT LINK COLOR.

Amen and thank you, drive through.

|| November 21, 2000 || 9:59 pm || Comments (0) ||