Monday, December 20, 2010

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

That feeling


To me Christmas is about feelings. When I was a little girl it was excitement, anticipation and a little fear. Was I good enough? Would Santa forget our house? These are big questions when you're five years old. I loved going to grandpa's house on Christmas eve and seeing all the family.


When I was a teen it was (although I hate to admit it) about the presents. I was still trying to hold on to the wonder and the special *feeling* I had as a little kid but it was already starting to fade. I was happy to see family (as we had a pretty small one) and I liked the food and the Boxing Day visits, the break from school.


When Buzz and I were married and had the kids it was all about fear of failure and making their Christmas special. It was exhaustion and worry over money and hope that out traditions were going to be looked back on with fondness and a little longing.

I got the *feeling* back through the kids, leaving out cookies and milk (actually it was butter tarts/coconut balls and a rum and coke) Making reindeer tracks in the snow, stuffing the stockings and trying to get to bed at a reasonable hour so I could get up early and get the bird in the oven.


As the kids grew up and my family shrank even more I became a little bitter. Buzz worked a lot of Christmas day shifts and I felt overwhelmed and under appreciated.

All the baking and shopping and running around, all seemed senseless. I hadn't felt an inkling of the *feeling* for years and bemoaned the expense and work entailed to scarf down a meal in 10 minutes.


Now that the kids are grown and Stacy has moved, Buzz is working all through the holiday and it looks like it'll just be Tory and I for supper. Oddly enough I feel a little flutter of the *feeling*; I can't explain it. You'd think I'd be all weepy and whiny, but not at all. (mind you it isn't here yet, I could be a hot mess by then)


Stacy has invited me to her place, I could have gone to Rupert or ensconced myself at the in-laws, but I'm more comfortable at home, with the familiar. I was also thinking about poor Buzz, his Christmas will be even more sucky than mine, so I figured whatever moments we could grab together would be nice.


Now I'm feeling relaxed, and contented even, go figure. Maybe I grew up or something. I'm excited for the great nieces and nephew to open their gifts, I'm relieved that I managed to get cards out with my hands being so swollen. I'm happy when I look at my gaudy little tree, and I'm looking forward to seeing family on Thursday.


Yup, I got that *feeling* back. I hope you all do as well.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Angel



Thinking about you dear Ellen. I miss you.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Mike Posner - Cooler Than Me (Live at the Key Club)

Bruno Mars - Just The Way You Are [Official Video]

Kings Of Leon - Use Somebody

Death and Hate


Elizabeth Edwards has lost her battle with breast cancer. Why is this important to me? Why was I crying for her yesterday? How can the death of an American political wife, mother, activist and author cause me such sadness?

It's the mourning of a life well lived, and the mourning of a brave loyal woman, who, to put it bluntly was shat on by life.

She was like a deer in the headlights when her husbands infidelity went national, not only did he cheat on her after her cancer came back, he also fathered a child with Rielle Hunter. This wasn't all exposed at one time but dragged out in fits and starts in front of the world, for all to judge and snicker.

Here was a woman who'd lost her 16 year old son Wade to a car accident, had undergone fertility treatments to have two more children late in life with this pig, and then he shits on their marriage and family by following the little head.

Here was a woman who stood by him and campaigned her ass off and jeopardized her health for her man.

She wrote it out in her book Resilience, she underwent treatments and she got on with her life, in short she made the best of it, here's a quote:

"The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered, we know that. And yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human. But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful."

After all was said and done she was grateful, how inspirational.

Elizabeth worked tirelessly for universal health care, even after her cancer came back, she was first diagnosed in 2004. She was an advocate for gay marriage, another quote:

"I don't know why someone else’s marriage has anything to do with me. I'm completely comfortable with gay marriage."

This statement and her unwavering belief in live and let live has caused the *hate group* or I guess I should say, * The Westboro Baptist Church*, to once again put on their robes of righteousness, leap onto their high horses, cloak themselves in their bigoted *moral* obligation and threaten to picket her funeral on Saturday in Raleigh, North Carolina.

This is the same group that picket soldiers funerals, Jewish businesses, claim Pope Benedict is a false prophet; and my all time favorite; Barack Obama is the Antichrist. Which I find pretty ironic, their freedom of speech was obtained on the backs and death of those same soldiers.

According to them Elizabeth deserved to die because of her tolerance for homosexuality. What about forgiveness? (not that she needs it) What about; “He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone at her." "Judge not lest ye be judged."


I feel that a group of 71 (2007) (mostly extended family) shouldn't be given the time, the press or the dynamite to blow them to Hell; they'll get there on their own.

The unfairness of this whole thing really pisses me off, a good woman lived and loved, made a family, made a mark and did the best she could despite overwhelming odds, that's what I'll be remembering on Saturday, not the petty small minded meanness of an inbred group of wayward hysterics from Topeka Kansas. Shame.


R.I.P. Elizabeth, July 3rd, 1949-December 7th, 2010










Monday, November 1, 2010

Blog Blast For Peace


It isn't enough to talk about peace, one must believe it. And it isn't enough to to believe in it, one must work for it. ~Eleanor Roosevelt.


Friday, October 15, 2010

It's really happened!

I have been hesitant to blog. The joy of writing, (akin to the joy of sex for me) (on a normal day) has left me. I don't find any comfort in it. I'm struggling to write this opening paragraph, I'm tired of being mis-read, misunderstood and vilified for having strong opinions. I feel pressure to write *funny*, not truth.

I've lost a couple of friends over this blog. (well I guess it's this blog, as I hadn't seen them in person or talked to them or e-mailed them, and quite frankly the *other* reason is beyond comprehension)(picture if you will, my being dumped due to a friends blog) I was unceremoniously dumped, tossed out on my ass as it were, with no explanation or cause as far as I can discern.

People have always encouraged me to write, I always had a story or an anecdote to jot down, I still do. My head is full, but my heart isn't in it anymore. I have family and friends who pursue their passions with gusto. Riding, golfing, reading, collecting, building. All admirable ways to spend their leisure time. They get encouragement and praise, (rightfully so), they're living a life full of passion and joy for their chosen *thing*.

From the very first time I picked up a pencil and wrote something, just for me, (a story about elves) I was hooked. (Like a closet full of shoes for Imelda Marcos) I was six. I had stumbled across something that was sheer ecstasy. I wondered why everyone wasn't writing this stuff down that they had in their heads.

I loved creative writing in school, it came so easily. It was a thoroughly enjoyable 55 minutes. I was writing for my family and friends, I also kept an unorganized journal that I jotted thoughts or ideas in for the great "Canadian Novel."

I know I can still write for myself, this blogging thing wasn't ever supposed to be the only writing I ever did. I just don't feel it any more. I don't have that rush when my thoughts careen and I'm writing so fast that there's no punctuation or capital letters or defined sentences. No starting awake at 3am (unless I have to pee), no staring off into space writing and rewriting a sentence in my head. It appears to be gone, or on sabbatical or down south, or something.


So to those two *friends* (well one *real* friend, one fair weather ) thanks for stepping on my dream, think about me when you're out living yours. Hopefully this is a minor hiccup and I'll get that feeling back, ( that passion you both enjoy) that we all crave.

When I get it back, I won't compromise for either one of you, I'll still have strong opinions, I'll still rant and rave and if you find it so offensive or bothersome, it's been said a thousand times....Don't come in here, don't read it, don't slag me about it. Mind your riding, I'll mind my writing. Live your dream.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Once again

I'm sickened by young people mis-using a valuable resource. We have an 18 year old gay man, having consensual sex, and his room mate films it and posts it on the Internet. What a sick piece of shit. Where are the boundaries? Why do certain people figure this is OK? When is it going to stop? Who's to blame?

Poor Tyler Clementi figured he had no recourse, but to jump off a bridge. He was victimized, violated on such a level it begs belief and the cops are *considering* charges. Hate crime charges. Big fucking deal, they should be locked up for years just for being insensitive little fucktards.



Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei you sicken me, you make me wonder about today's youth. Between you two and the bunch who watched and filmed a gang rape, I'm really gobsmacked.

What are you thinking when you post these sex crimes? Does it make you feel important? Does it make your sex life better? Are you just sad little boys who've never had a hope in Hell of getting a girl to sleep with you? Are you so homophobic that this kind of behaviour seems right?

Shame on you, doesn't seem enough. Shame on all of us for letting you become so desensitized that you would even come up with this crap in the first place. Put down the cell phones and the ipads and the laptops and have a face to face conversation with an actual real live person. It's how we did things in the *olden* days, believe me it works.

We seem as a society to be raising a bunch of sociopaths. Hunkered in their dark rooms eating junk and posting junk.


Profile of the Sociopath
This website summarizes some of the common features of descriptions of the behavior of sociopaths.



Glibness and Superficial Charm


Manipulative and Conning
They never recognize the rights of others and see their self-serving behaviors as permissible. They appear to be charming, yet are covertly hostile and domineering, seeing their victim as merely an instrument to be used. They may dominate and humiliate their victims.


Grandiose Sense of Self
Feels entitled to certain things as "their right."


Pathological Lying
Has no problem lying coolly and easily and it is almost impossible for them to be truthful on a consistent basis. Can create, and get caught up in, a complex belief about their own powers and abilities. Extremely convincing and even able to pass lie detector tests.


Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt
A deep seated rage, which is split off and repressed, is at their core. Does not see others around them as people, but only as targets and opportunities. Instead of friends, they have victims and accomplices who end up as victims. The end always justifies the means and they let nothing stand in their way.


Shallow Emotions
When they show what seems to be warmth, joy, love and compassion it is more feigned than experienced and serves an ulterior motive. Outraged by insignificant matters, yet remaining unmoved and cold by what would upset a normal person. Since they are not genuine, neither are their promises.


Incapacity for Love


Need for Stimulation
Living on the edge. Verbal outbursts and physical punishments are normal. Promiscuity and gambling are common.


Callousness/Lack of Empathy
Unable to empathize with the pain of their victims, having only contempt for others' feelings of distress and readily taking advantage of them.


Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature
Rage and abuse, alternating with small expressions of love and approval produce an addictive cycle for abuser and abused, as well as creating hopelessness in the victim. Believe they are all-powerful, all-knowing, entitled to every wish, no sense of personal boundaries, no concern for their impact on others.


Early Behavior Problems/Juvenile Delinquency
Usually has a history of behavioral and academic difficulties, yet "gets by" by conning others. Problems in making and keeping friends; aberrant behaviors such as cruelty to people or animals, stealing, etc.


Irresponsibility/Unreliability
Not concerned about wrecking others' lives and dreams. Oblivious or indifferent to the devastation they cause. Does not accept blame themselves, but blames others, even for acts they obviously committed.


Promiscuous Sexual Behavior/Infidelity
Promiscuity, child sexual abuse, rape and sexual acting out of all sorts.


Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle
Tends to move around a lot or makes all encompassing promises for the future, poor work ethic but exploits others effectively.


Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility
Changes their image as needed to avoid prosecution. Changes life story readily.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

9/11 Bud Commercial - AIRED ONLY ONCE

GANGSTAGRASS FT. T.O.N.E Z-Long Hard Times To Come(Official Justified Th...



On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some
I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy
You try to bogart--fall back, I go hard

On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some
I see them long hard times to come

Verse 1:
My life is ill son... prepared to kill son
A paradox of pain, baby; it's real son
Lonely traveler, aint trying to battle ya
But if you're feeling tuff dog, I welcome all challengers
Aint got no family, you see there's one of me
Might lose your pulse standing two feet in front of me
I'm pissed at the world, but I aint looking for trouble
I might crack a grin, I aint looking to hug you
Think about it, nobody wants to die
There's rules to this game son, I'm justified
I'm ready to go partner, hey I'm on the run
The devils hugging on my boots that's why I own a gun
This journey's too long, I'm looking for some answers
So much time stressing, I forget the questions
I fear no man, you don't want no problems 'B'
Eyes in the back of my head, you better not follow me

[Chorus]
On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off who wants some
I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy
You try to bogart--fall back, I go hard
On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome-pissed off, who wants some
I see them long hard times to come

Verse 2:
You probably think I'm crazy, or got some loose screws
But that's alright though--I'm a'do me, you do you
So how you judging me? I'm just trying to survive
And if the time comes, I aint trying to die
I'm just trying to fly, and get a little love
Find me a dime piece and get a little hug
Hook the car up--hit the bar up--clean the scars up--hey yo, the stars up
Hey this is the life of an outlaw
We aint promised tomorrow--I'm living now, dog
I'm walking through life. but yo my feet hurt
All my blessings are fed, man I'll rest when I'm dead
Look through my eyes and see the real world
Take a walk with me, have a talk with me
Where we end up--god only knows
Strap your boots on tight you might be alright

[Chorus]
On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome pissed off who wants some
I'm fighting for my soul, God get at your boy
You try to bogart fall back I go hard
On this lonely road, trying to make it home
Doing it by my lonesome pissed off who wants some
I see them long hard times to come

Patty Griffin - Rain





"Rain"

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart
Beating close to mine
Pounding up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb
Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep
With all this rain falling down

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Its hard to know when to give up the fight
Two things you want will just never be right
Its never rained like it has to night before
Now I don't wanna beg you baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain

Friday, September 10, 2010

What a sad day for me

I finally finished murdering my old Blog today. The Delphi plus account expires on Oct. 12th and my Blog *The World According to Louie* should be gone any minute.
I didn't think it would be so tough. What I wanted to keep, I transferred over to the draft section on blogger, and being me, I had to re-read a bunch of them.

The majority were funny (well I think so) some were angry, some were hurt and some were whiny.
It's really disconcerting to see your life from August 21st 2006, and know where it's heading. It's like watching a horror movie, "Oh my God NO!! Don't go out side to see what that noise was!!"

Overall, I think I was fair, or rather I tried to be, even when my world was crashing down around my ears. Some comments were pretty harsh, but the majority were supportive and loving.

There were thousands of hits, almost 400 entries and almost 5oo comments. It's even had 53 hits the last few days and I really don't use it any more.
I'll miss it, it was my first Blog and I really took to the blogging life. Ah well we still have each other and this blog here. Right?

Thanks Ali for getting me started and thanks kb for not letting me quit the 5,678 times I threatened to.

The joy went out of blogging for me for the last year or so, but I'm going to try and get it back and try to quit worrying about the readers. This isn't about them, it's about me, 'cause I said so and in here I'm #1. neener.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The time of your life

What an eventful summer, we didn't go anywhere for a change, and that was OK. It was great to stay home and concentrate on the yard and house. We had a lot of company, (overnighters and day trippers.) BBQ's and dinners and a lot of laughs.
There were babies born, there were milestones met and some opportunities pounced on. New people met, old people re-met, but all good people.
The gardens flourished, a metric tonne of books read, a tanker of beer consumed and through the magic of cornflake crumbs the best burgers....Ever.
Beer can chicken, potato salad, caesar salad and rib steaks.
Booker Todd discovered cherry tomatoes and the cats all lost weight. The strawberries were plump and so was I, but that's OK too.
Tino, Copper, Belle, Daisy, and Miss Pixie.
We discovered the *soap trap* and the old chicken coop, so my yard still has surprises even after eight years.
The pool was clear and so were my priorities. I don't want it to end.
Fall is creeping up on us as I write this, it's time for Booker Todd's check-up, and time to look into new tires for my speedy-go-fast-red -car. There's fire wood to order and vents to vacuum out.
I can't wait to stay home again next summer.


Another turning point;
a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.

It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.

Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.

Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.

For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

(music break)

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.





Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Human Kindness

Broken windows and empty hallways,
a pale dead moon in a sky streaked with grey.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles,
the frozen smiles to chase love away.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, so lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Double standard or rampant stupidity?

I'm so mad right now that I'm hyperventilating. I've been following the news from last night and today about the *incident* in the Kamloops jail.
It's been reported that 4 RCMP officers, 2 civilian guards, and 1 watch clerk, all male, watched 2 female inmates on the CCTV engage in sex. It's also been reported (as if this wasn't bad enough) that the woman who initiated the sex had intimated to the guard that she was HIV positive.
It's also been reported that the two women were in the tank for being inebriated, thus throwing a further immoral cast on the whole incident. They were drunk; ergo the 2nd woman wasn't in the right frame of mind to *consent.*
I feel sick, the woman in my estimation was raped. She was unable to consent, which I'm sure she wouldn't have had she been sober and aware of the medical factors, and she was doubly violated by the very people who are supposed to keep her safe.
Let's talk to the 7 men, let's have a list of what ifs.
What if it was your wife?
What if it was a girl with down syndrome?
What if it was a nun?
What if it was your Grandma?
What if it was a child?
What if it was your daughter?
What if it was a guy in a hood holding down a cheerleader?
Would you have intervened?
You bet your sorry ass you would have.
You sicken me, this all for a giddy little thrill, hope you sleep well tonight knowing that you were all part and parcel to a rape and quite possibly an attempted murder.
It doesn't have to be a male against a female to be a rape, you 7 get paid to take care of the vulnerable people you've arrested.
Just because they've been arrested doesn't give anyone a license to mistreat them, especially you.
I think you should all be fired and have to take some courses and counseling.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Pure Nirvana

There's a certain time on a summer evening that I find to be pure Nirvana.
The actual time changes as well as the day of the week. It takes a certain temperature, in the air and in the pool.
Take tonight as a prime example. I headed out to the pool after a very hot day. (hottest temps in B.C.) This followed our record breaker the day before and a so-so week. The pool registered 32 degrees Celsius and the air temp a chilly 33c.
I needed to get the timing right, I find it's good to go when the sun has just started to lower, and the moon is visible. Keeping in mind you need to beat the slugs. The back lawn is fraught with peril in your bare feet with poor visibility. ugh
Aaaahhh, it was great. The sun was an orange ball over my right shoulder, the half moon visible straight ahead. Two cats to keep me company, one on the bench and *The Dullard* stalking me across the open lawn. You remember *The Dullard* she's the one who thinks the radio is a heater and if she hides her head we can't see her.
I floated on my back with a feeling of contentment, I could hear the new flag flapping in the breeze, the big sprinkler on the front yard and very little else. I could smell the slight tang of the pigs next door, but the honey suckle gave it a nice sweet undertone and it wasn't so bad.
I floated in the knowledge that I wasn't tired from cooking because I made supper this morning to beat the heat. I floated in the knowledge that my critters were fed and the watering was done.
I floated in the knowledge that my DSH (domesticated short hair) was doing the dishes.
All in all a perfect pool evening. Life is good.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Friction fires; or the reason I can't go into the forest.

There are times in a woman's life when she experiences what I like to call a *Wardrobe Milestone*

For example, her first pair of ice skates. (even when her mom got them off of Swap 'n' Shop for five bucks) These skates bring such joy and a feeling of importance, she's a big girl now, watch out. Several turned ankles and an aching butt later she realizes that maybe the skates were cheap and 5th hand so she blames her mother for her in expertise. (it's a given)

For me, my next milestone was the training bra, in Grade 4. (already busting outta the thing) I was chased by a pack of 10 year old boys for the whole year. I had a permanent bruise on my back, was round shouldered and, you guessed it, blamed my mother.

As I entered my 11th year, bruised, limping and suffering from poor posture, my mother decided I was ready for the next *MILESTONE* Not a *Wardrobe Milestone* Per Se, a cosmetic one

This brings us to the dreaded home permanent. I was strapped into a chair at the sink, wrenched backward and my hair soaked under the tap. (kind of a home water boarding) The dog's toe rag wrapped around my thin limp hair I was escorted to the kitchen table whereupon she rolled each 1/4 inch of my hair into tight pin curls then proceeded to douse me in chemicals that not only burned my scalp, but left me with a squint that I have to this day. The end result was badly damaged hair, which stayed frizzy for approximately two days. This I rightfully blamed on my mother.

The 12th year of my pitiful existence was highlighted by hot pants and high heels. My first pair of bell bottoms and a rash from the polyester. I entered Grade 8 limping, squinting, huddled, itchy and frizzy, but I was 2 inches taller. This was also the year I discovered acne. This I blamed on my mother.

By my 16th year I considered myself HAWT and wore my first (and last) bikini. It was a thing of beauty (not unlike I was) it had wooden hoops at each hip and one between the ever expanding boobs. This I thanked my mother for. Good genes I thought at the time. I also had my first bout of mouth sores, for this I blamed my mother.

For most women the next few milestones are a formal gown and then a wedding gown. I had no formal but I did have a 2nd hand homemade wedding gown. ( which the previous bride wore at 6 months pregnant). It was polyester. I was 95lbs, so on my wedding day I was boobless from weight loss, tripping over my heels and the dreaded rash was back. My hair had been done by a professional and it lasted 5 minutes as there was a gale force wind in Prince Rupert. I blamed my mother. She should have moved to some place warmer and windless.

The first sexy lingerie, now a girl has really grown up, watch out world! again with the rash.....

Maternity clothes, nuff said.

Now at the grand old age of 48, and having given birth to the two "Heads". Being arthritic and fat from my meds (NOT the beer). I've graduated into the unknown once again. For decency's sake and the protection of small children and animals I've found myself having to wear what I call a bathski. (bathing suit skirt all in one) (A onesi for old fat broads if you will) It's not a skort, lady golfers wear those, so they have to be cool right? Me, not so much.

I used to wear a pair of men's trunks, looked OK, hid the thighs. This year however I have the unfortunate problem of my thighs rubbing together. (this is not pretty)
I'm waiting for BC fire services to ban me from the forest. At the beach it's OK, the sound of the surf drowns it out. At the lake or at a pool, I give everyone in sight a bag of crinkly chips. This will work for the initial dunking, but I have to hustle back because they can't swim for a half hour after consuming them and they'll hear me.

I sit huddled, rashy, blistery, with aching ankles and frizzy hair waiting for the next *Wardrobe Milestone* I wonder what it'll be? Support hose? A girdle? sigh

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

I have a friend

I have a friend, who challenges me.
I have a friend, who is intelligent and witty.
I have a friend, who makes me laugh.
I have a friend, who holds me up.
I have a friend, who tells me like it is.
I have a friend, who knows obscure song lyrics.
I have a friend, who drives on vacation.
I have a friend, who knows my darkest thoughts.
I have a friend, who loves me in spite of myself.
I have a friend, who is always there for me.
I have a friend, who is sometimes misunderstood.
I have a friend, who lives in physical pain.
I have a friend , who means the world to me.
I have a friend, who I love.
I have a friend, who has a birthday tomorrow.
Happy Birthday my dear friend, and I wish for you many more pain free years.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Impaired thinking

Some questions:

Do you bathe with a plugged in toaster?
Do you stick screwdrivers into electrical sockets?
Do you dive into the shallow end of the pool?
Do you run with scissors?
Do you let your kids play in traffic?
Do you lock your dog in a hot car?

No?

Then why do so many of you drink and ride/drive?
Are you damaged?

Think about how you'd feel if you killed someone.
Think about the paramedic who has to scrape you off the road.
Think about the motherless child you may leave behind.
Think about the person you may paralyze.
Think about the poor SOB who hits you due to your carelessness.

It's not just about you and your deluded reasoning on how much alcohol you can handle.
There are no excuses for drinking and riding/driving, if you think there is your thinking is impaired.

I can handle my liquor.
I weigh 300 lbs so this won't get me drunk.
It's only one with lunch.
It's been an hour since my last one.
I'm a functioning alcoholic.
nonononononononononono WRONG!!

There have been so many deaths this year in the riding community, not due to alcohol, due to all manner of things. It's dangerous enough on a motorcycle, don't make it worse.
If you have a death wish, put the damn toaster in the tub, don't get drunk and drive on my roads. Think about your kids for Christs' sake.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Should go.











The silence where your voice should go;

The shoulders where your arms should go;

The odorless room where your scent should go;

The quiet stairs where your tread should go;

The echo where your laughter should go;

The void in my heart where your life should go;

I ache for you Mom,. Happy Mother's Day.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Puking out my back door, and other follies.






I'd apologize for being so long in between blogs, but meh...

Where to start? Rupert was sad, sweet, humbling, and anger inducing. The service was really nice, some of the people not so much. Family is sure a nasty business, luckily it wasn't my family for a change.


I worked hard there helping BFF with all I could, cleaning and hauling and arranging and cooking and dishes....LORD the dishes! I'm worried about her. She has since been Dr ordered off of work with palpitations and high blood pressure. I had a similar go around after my Mom passed. It's a complicated thing losing your mother. I hope she'll be ok. Buzz and I had to cancel our interior bike trip as we're going back up in a couple weeks to attend the 100th b-day celebrations and finish up with the house.


Husband of BFF is having problems with his elderly father as well. It's not my place to say what, suffice it to say, his dad is on a list for an emergency placement in a locked facility. His parents live in town here, so I've been in contact with his mom to see if she's ok.


Niece of BFF is having a very complicated pregnancy, she's diabetic and obese. Another friend is also having a complicated pregnancy, looks like the baby may have problems.. J is on the list for more surgery and having a Hell of a time with funding and support for her special needs kids. Another elderly friend has breast cancer. Then there's my drunk sister, who has somehow *forgotten* the bawling out she received and it's business as usual. Damn.


Yeah, yeah, I'll stop. Soon. I've been sick off and on for a couple weeks, puking and all that goes with. My tooth has broken again, the new red microwave has broken, both cars have had work done on them this week and to add a little icing on the shit pile that is my life....the fucking mower seized up. Let us not forget the septic field trouble....again.


We have a new dog in the hood, Louie. Yup great name, annoying dog. I wish people would take proper care of their pets. He's at large half the time and either in our yard shitting and stealing food/bones, or in the middle of the damn road. I've had people knock on my door and ask if he's mine. This makes me feel responsible for him, I don't want him to get hit or lost or whatever. Buzz has taken him home and locked him on his deck, and again you feel responsible. Does he have water? Is he going to get out again?


I figured after Drunkie, the Una-bomber, Damien and Lucifer moved on that the neighbourhood would be quiet again....hah Louie barks all the time as well, a hair raising small siren squeal that I could happily live without.


Isn't this fun? Maybe I was worried about sounding negative?

I won't go into the reasons as you people are cognizant about world events, the following list of things has sent me into a tail spin.

Karla Homolka-pardon.
Clifford Olson-pension.
Hugo Tale-Yax-Good Samaritan.
Michael Kandola-Gay basher.
Betty Thomas-lost in Skaha lake.
HST-pre collection period.
Constable Peter Hodson-VPD drug lord.
Hojjat Ol-Eslam Kazem Sediqi-Misogynistic fear mongering coward.

Some good things.

Boobquake.
Hockey.
Bike is insured.
Tiger lost the Masters.


I've been watching Deadliest Catch, it's bittersweet knowing that Phil is close to his end. I've been a rabid follower of that show for 4 years or so and it won't be the same without him. Ms. Redgrave passed yesterday, 67 years old. She sure fought the good fight for 7 years, a family acting dynasty is coming to an end.


We had a good Easter, lots of soup for the freezer, I made gallons of the stuff. 31 years into this relationship and Buzz finally gets up the nerve to tell me he doesn't like salt pork in his pea soup.....eh?

Quiet birthday, I'm still owed a lunch. Jilly made me a nice gift, a copper license plate modeled off the one from my mom's bike.

Well this should either have you laughing, suicidal, or thanking your God that you aren't me. At least it's not cancer. Right? I'll blog a funny later. Booker Todd has a story to tell.


Well the sun shines on a dog's ass every once in awhile; I guess it's my turn~Capt'n Phil.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Survivor's Ensign Ricky?

I jot things down that I intend to blog about at a later date. Used to was I couldn't read my handwriting, now I'm totally addicted to the desk top sticky note.
So I brought the notes up today and I'm even more at sea than usual. What the hell does "Survivor's Ensign Ricky" mean? I'm sure it would have been something uproariously funny.

I also have "Jason K.,tooth whisperer." This I do remember, total tooth rebuild, one bite, four visits....$50.00. The man is a miracle worker, the tooth has never fit better. This was followed by, "It's been that way since he stuck that big thing in it." and "I knew it was wrong the minute I said it but I wanted to finish my sentence."

Then we have a quote from The time travellers wife. "May the sea of life stretch before you like glass, and may you always have the wind at your backs."

Next up is "Google Earth waahh." I finally got a look at Google Earth, I espied all our old residences and streets, schools etc. I cried when I saw my Grandpa's house in Prince Rupert, as Betty Davis would say "What a dump."

The Dullard puked in my bed last week, a big putrid pile adjacent to my pillow. ugh. I was not impressed, last night she puked on the night table where she sleeps. There was, laying amid the hair and mucus the perfect ass end of a shrew. Most disgusting thing I've ever had the pleasure of chucking in the garbage. Cats!

Then I have "Schoenborn FUCKER." This piece of crap murdered his three children, and has been found not criminally responsible. Well fuck me running, who the hell is responsible if not that little fuck? Yet another "person" who should have been put down at birth.

A woman I know lost her Aunt Martha and her partner Larry this week. Murdered by a repeat offender who stole a car, graced the Island with his presence and wiped out their bike on the Malahat. Lucas Ian Brown, the world would be a nicer place if Mr. Schoenborn was your father.

Well, I'm leaving at four am tonight/thursday morning to catch the plane to South terminal, then the bigger plane to Rupert. B.U.M.'s funeral is on Saturday afternoon.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Cowardly killer



Police want your help to bring this man to justice. Photo was taken by B.C. Ferry terminal surveillance camera on Saturday morning.
CHEMAINUS, B.C. – Police across B.C. are hunting a suspected car thief blamed in the deaths of a motorbike rider and his female passenger.

A B.C. Ferry surveillance photo provides the best clue to the identity of the suspect who is alleged to have stolen a newer model Honda Accord from a North Vancouver home on Saturday before heading to Vancouver Island aboard a ferry.

Police said the fatal crash occurred when the suspect, driving the stolen vehicle, made an illegal left turn, cutting across the path of a male motorcyclist and his female passenger. Both of the bike riders died instantly.

“This incident started early Saturday morning in North Vancouver when an unknown male entered a residence, stole some property and the homeowner’s car, a newer model Honda Accord, while the homeowners were home,” said Const. Mike Halskov.

“The homeowner reported the incident to North Vancouver RCMP. Later in the morning, the stolen Honda was seen going through the toll booth at Horseshoe Bay,” he said.

“The lone male suspect’s picture was captured by BC Ferries video surveillance. Police believe that the stolen Honda and suspect driver arrived at Departure Bay at approximately 10:00 a.m.,” he said.

Police were called to the Arbutus Rest Stop along the Malahat Highway (Highway 1) at about 12:25 p.m. to a report of a fatal collision.

“Police learned that the stolen Honda was travelling south and made an illegal left turn into the rest stop, cutting in front of a motorcycle which collided with the Honda, killing both the male rider and female passenger of the motorcycle,” said Halskov.

The suspect then fled the scene. An air and ground search failed to find any trace of the stolen vehicle and the suspect.

Police will not release the names of the two people killed in the tragic crash until relatives are informed.

“Police are asking for the public’s assistance in identifying the suspect driver. This is a far reaching investigation and the suspect may well be from the Greater Vancouver area,” said Halskov.

Anyone with information about the suspect is asked to call Const. Brian Sampson of South Island Traffic Services at 1-250-416-0352.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Loss


Betty's eldest daughter Karen posted this this morning.


"My heart is broken-she went softly while she slept."


R.I.P. Annie *Betty* Lien, you'll be sorely missed, I love you.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Betty











B.U.M.




Even though I find it hard to do so; (and it's a little hypocritical of me personally) please pray for her ease in passing.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Phil Harris




R.I.P. Captain Phil Harris of the Cornelia Marie.


1956-2010


Monday, February 1, 2010

Bawling out an alcoholic

Not my finest moment, that's a given. I finally had enough of my sister and her magnified alcohol induced troubles the other night. I lost it, I yelled at her on the phone.

I actually made it 45 minutes into the conversation before tearing her a new one. It was the third time she'd mentioned something in this conversation, and we've had the exact same conversation for the last 5 years or so, I've had enough.

I love my sister, alcoholism is a disease, she was sober for years, but refuses to see that she has a problem again, still. She figures if she sticks to beer she's ok. jeez.

It wasn't the drinking that made me snap, I know from past experience that you can't reason or force an alcoholic to do sweet piss all until they're ready. It's her excuses and refusal to see a Dr.

I'm not talking about not going in when you have a cold or something , she never goes, ever. She can't walk a half block, she has panic attacks, she's scratched herself raw. She uses excuses like, can't walk to the bus, can't afford the bus, don't have a family Dr. etc....

Meanwhile she has $ for smokes and beer, everyday. She manages to get out to get those two items. She gets drunk, she phones and cries because she's sure she has cancer and is going to die before she's fifty. Her fiftieth is the end of this month.

Well I informed her she probably would die and to get off her ass, put the smokes and beer down and get the fuck to a Dr. No more excuses and I won't talk to her until she does. Too harsh? Maybe, but we've been here before her and I. Maybe I'm bitter because the last time she got sober she made ammends to everyone but me. I'm sick of the b.s.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Toothless in P.A.

I'm feeling ranty today, I better think before I type.

Sad news today, B.U.M. (back up mom) is sick, I'm scared for her and her kids/grandkids and selfishly for me. I'm at an all time low for tolerating any more bad news. Get better Betty, the world needs you.

Damn tooth broke, if I try hard enough and eat kd for three months I can pay for it, or I can remain indoors, toothless, hiding, and muttering about it, I'll deal with it next week I guess, maybe.

Just got caught up on Mad Men, awesome show, best ever. Really.

Steve Fonyo, what a kick in the nuts for a true Canadian hero. He has a disease and needs help, what he doesn't need is for the fat suits in Ottawa to take away the one good thing he has. He raised 14 million dollars people, he got up on his one leg when a lot of us would have given up and accomplished something that most people can't even conceive of. He's earned respect, not a kick in the teeth when he's down by a pack of lazy proroguing smoking drinking out of touch womanizing politicians. Shame on all of you.

Meanwhile Conrad Black and Mulroney get to keep theirs? WTF?? I'm embarrassed.

Then we have poor Mr. Wu, he had the honor of getting the shit kicked out of him by plainclothes Vancouver police officers, they had the wrong address. Picture this, you have little or no English and a pack of armed men break into your home and start screaming at you to "GET DOWN" Shit, what a cluster fuck. Hope he sues the badges off of them.

Speaking of police, have you seen the shitstorm surrounding the Surrey six? That's two officers now caught red handed breaking ethical and criminal law. There's a couple people who should be fired outright. I suppose if they were recipients of The Order of Canada they'd get to keep it. Asshats.

Anyway, the last night for Dollhouse, which is a shame, seems if I like a program it'll get cancelled.
Remember: Pushing Daisey's? Boomtown? Moonlight? New Amsterdam? Jericho? Sarah Conner Chronicles? The Unusuals? Life? Freaks and Geeks? Bah.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Oh, I forgot

To Surrey pastor Justin Dennison;
You sir are a bigoted, small minded, hate mongering asshat of the highest order. I'm horrified at your comments about the earthquake in Haiti.
Hiding behind your pulpit and expounding on "Voodoo spiritual darkness" as justification for tens of thousands of deaths is cowardly, and as far from being Christian as a breathing upright humanoid can get. Shame on you.

Bleeding offspring and the loss of the pyrex

One thousand pardons to my 8 readers, I've been sick (read lazy) and trying to catch up to my tv on-line.

We had a quiet Christmas this year and an even quieter new year, just the critters and I. Booker Todd didn''t even make it 'til midnight.

Christmas eve had us scarfing down our turkey and it was an early night. Clawdette reasserted her dominant position over her skin siblings and had them both bleeding by the time they left. The kids left me hanging in the a.m. and I had all the housework done by 9 and Clawdette had already consumed her crouton by the time they finally arrived.

Did the present thing, Buzz gifted me with a printer/scanner/copier/fax that I'm sure has the capability of launching satellites. Pretty daunting for a techno-phobe like me. I'm still battling with Ruby and have yet to print anything.

Buzz received a gps which he programmed with Christopher Walkens voice. Great merriment ensued on the way to Grandma's house on boxing day, turn left at 600 yards (>/big pause) meters.

We spent Christmas day in front of the box watching the first season of SOA borrowed from a friend (thanks Kevin) I'd been jonsing to see it for so long I was in a near catatonic state, it didn't disappoint. I watch season deux on-line, and I'll buy it as soon as I'm able and watch it on the big screen.

The pyrex, my mother-loving 4 cupper, flew out of the fridge and shattered on the floor. Not so bad you may think....BUT....it contained the left over gravy. We wept.

The 27th was an interesting day, we had a gas filled house, an incontinent cat, a cut finger, an empties spill, olive oil in the cheezies and ran out of propane for the 1/2 bbq'ed steaks. I was a quivering mess and went to bed by 6.

Sado slept through Christmas, *The Dullard* hid, and the other two over ate, so that's about right.

Buzz finally managed to pass his virus onto my person about 10 days ago, it's all in my head, sinus, ear, eye, banging headache and copious amounts of snot and phlegm. I've said it before if phlegm were an olympic event....

Like I said I've been watching a lot of shows. Sanctuary, SOA, Weeds, Dexter, True Blood and my new fave Breaking Bad. All great in their own way and made the ebola/bohunka a little easier to bear, hopefully that'll be it for awhile 'cause the joints are pretty good right now and the sun is out a little every day. The snow peas are peeking out already and the magnolia is even budding.

I long for spring and the wherewithal to work my new launcher.





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