Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Friday, December 31, 2004

I hope I will have time to visit.

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that, too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
-Shel Silverstein-

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

I yam what I yam.

And I yam more freaked out than Phoebe about starting school (I'll be puking with a glorious rash January 3rd).
I win.
That's all.

Friday, December 24, 2004

One and all...

Us organized and perfectly calm good little parents are WAY done wrapping presents and our children are peacefully slumbering.
In our Franklin daily planners (FDP, Oh fuck off! It's been SO long since I've had and acronym moment!), we have set aside this calm and peaceful time to peruse the internet and share our Holiday wishes.
We are NOT frantically wrapping and searching for lost presents while politely screaming, "Get your honkey white cracker ASS in bed or I'm calling Santa!".

Happy Jesus day friends, or Happy Holidays, or none of the above. Whatever suits you.
It seems that my Franklin Daily planner has egg nog with Jamaican spiced rum scheduled for me now.
Cheers.
:o)


Tuesday, December 21, 2004

It's that time of year...

I think it's time to cut back on the drinking and crank up the coke habit.

For a select few of you, you'll be getting a fancy schmancy wrapped WSDOT instruction/rule book from me this year, because OBVIOUSLY you don't feel the need to learn to drive on your own. The turn lane is for turning and the fast lane is for.....Wait, here it comes....Going fast, you mother fucker.

Miranda, here in Washington they are on "H". Time to get out my lighter and the squirt gun filled with cheap Vodka. One would think the sticker on my door was self explanatory?
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Oh, and have you ever been on an anti-biotic and therefore got a yeast infection that traveled to your bung hole and it itched more than smallpox and made you dance like a midget trying to squash a spider in the middle of his back whilst doing the Samba?
Yeah, me neither. But that would suck.
There is a reason the "Publish this Post" button is red. It should mean stop.
Oh Fuck that.

Monday, December 20, 2004

Feel free to delete your link.

Because, Keri is back.

In the JesusMas spirit. I have a few random thoughts.
What was up with that Jesus dude?
I tend to believe he was a real, and semi interesting person in history (herstory?).
I don't have many hard feelings against him.
His followers scare me shittless, but whatever...here are my questions.
Did Jesus make up the whole "virgin Mary" story, was it Mary, or was it his followers?
If it was his followers, then of course, understood and forgiven. Par for the course.
If it was Mary? She probably just thought she didn't look good in scarlet red. From the portraits I've seen, Joseph was a hottie. Maybe Mary swung right once, but was ultimately a switch hitter? OK, forgiven. Can't blame her much for trying to save her own ass.
If it was the Jesus dude? He may have lost any ounce of credibility he never had with me.
Didn't he question why his mom wasn't putting out for Joseph? It's not like she was on the rag, she was pregnant.
If I were Joseph, I would have had some serious questions for the mail man, Ms. Matilda the furrier down the street and maybe that donkey she was riding.

Why couldn't it have worked for me when I was 16 to say, no?!?!? I am a virgin! It must have been God that impregnated me!

I'm not sorry folks. My grey matter just giggles and curdles at the thought.
But, still, I have to give them78 points for fooling so many people for so many years.

Yes, the "Christmas eve" program is very unique at my house.

Religion 201, here I come.

This brings me to my link for the day. http://www.ramdac.org/article/id/58

Friday, December 17, 2004

Thieves in the morning.

The first time I was privileged to visit the dentist was when I was about 5 years old. He numbed me up, and I looked at his teeth all rotten and yellow and I smelled his halitosis and was literally scared for my life and mandibles.
The dentist dude did his duty. I got nitrous oxide and dreamed of Strawberry shortcake (the doll, not the cake) and I went back out to the car with my "mother" and I tried to smile and something wasn't right, so I looked in the mirror and tried to smile again, and then broke out in tears. I truly cried and thought, "That man stole my smile."
I had to go to the dentist this morning. He totally invaded my safe bubble space. Oh, all the touching and drilling and small talk was not even worth the Vicodin, but the bibs rock! What 30 year old doesn't want to wear a bib!?! I mean I wasn't even at the crab pot?
The true beauty of it all is that I had to pay out $1000.00 a week before Christmas for the privilege.
Wait, I think I just felt the Christmas spirit, time for more pain killers. :o)
I got a root canal, or "root therapy" as they now call it, this morning. Funny, my tooth still feels pissed. I don't think the "therapy" worked.
This is why I have had such a bad sinus infection and ear ache the last few weeks.

Next.
My oldest daughter turns 13 (thirteen as in TEEN) on January third. I start school on January third. Maybe I should schedule another "root therapy" session on January third just to round it all out. Or possibly paper cuts on my eyeballs and lemon juice eye drops?

Finally.
My younger (hot mormon) sister is getting married. Which brought up the whole topic of walking down the aisle and getting "given away".
When it comes to my daughters, there will be NONE of that "giving away shit". Not that I necessarily want them back mind you, but it will be more like the Mexican 99 year land lease deal.


Monday, December 13, 2004

Flight Plan.

Mr. Jackolope died this morning. He fell yesterday and broke his hip and then stroked out. Now when old farts fall, they very rarely recover, so Yay for the stroke. Saves time eh?

It's OK Mr. Hospital Administrator. You have your waiting list. His room will be cleaned out and re-occupied within the week.
It may take me a bit longer to deal. And I may have a hard time liking the new resident for awhile just because of the room they are in, but hey, I'm a professional. I see this all the time. I'll get over it, you just make sure you bill the dead guys family up to December 12th MmmmmKay?

Oh, and I decorated the Jackolope anyway. I sewed and stuffed and scarved, top hatted and carroted a glorious fiber fill snowman to cover the Jackolope. In fact I just might charge you for that overtime. Can't let a little thing like death stop me...no no no!!

As for the fire alarm tonight? No, the real one, not the fake fire drills that the state requires 56.3 times a month, the real one. Yes that one. The one where the dude in acute care lit his bedding on fire and the charge nurse called code red? Yeah, I showed up with my fire extinguisher, I even pulled the pin. But the Doctor said...no no...no just shut the door. Damn.
How much fun is it to evacuate 20 non-ambulatory freaking out acute care patients whom you have just shut off their oxygen? You guys may never know. BUT, I did wittness some very fine fireman anatomy. Alas, the night wasn't a total loss.

I *KNOW* I throw myself into my work too much....as the Y chromosome in the house frequently reminds me.
When one has no real life friends other than family, one tends to care and attach ones self to needy, sweet and smelly residents a bit too much at ones work.
Yeah, this death rates right up there with the "Joyce fluorescent fluids cancer chick" death. Only this one was not as expected.
Yes, I am prone to depression, but I always have my smart ass to dig me out.
See, I'm not really so sad right now, just mostly caustically cynical and sarcastic. Yum.
Fuck you Charge nurse, I'm still in the right field.
Happy Monday.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Fine ya big winers.

I can't make this stuff up.

In my house, I've learned to check my boys room when I can't find the Swiffer Sweeper.
Because they have been using it to search for land mines....Duh.

I got home from work last night and one of my boys crawled up on my lap and hugged me. He said with a sad face, "Mom, I have a rash." I said "oh, no buddy where?" He said, "I have a rash on my feelings, I had a hard day."

Yes, I love my funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Washington, the Evergreen state.

Yeah, so, hmmm.
I'm sick. No really, icky sick. Like dark green sticky boogers, cold sweat and severe ear pain dizzy sick.
Do you know what this means? OH MY DOG.
I might have to visit a doctor.
Doctors who invade your personal bubble. Touch.....stuff, and just generally make you feel worse than you did when you walked in.
Doctor Dude, no touching, no looking, just hand over the anti-biotics and no one will get hurt.

Don't be hatin'

Reason #1 you know when you have failed as a parent:

Your son walks out of his bedroom with his athletic cup over his mouth saying "Luke, I am your Father."


Friday, December 03, 2004

Warped wiener*

The reasons.
Laugh at my pain, like I know you will.
Phoebe, a very special post, in your honor, is coming soon.

My first car was a 1980 something Cutlass Ciera...Diesel. The radio didn't work because there was a tape permanently lodged in the tape deck. Air Supply. That's right. Here I am, the one that you love.

I registered for classes today.
Because I am a "new student", and I have to maintain full time status 12 credits or more and I can only attend in the evening, I get the bottom of the barrel scrapings for class choices.
Oh my Dog I can't believe....1)That I'm taking this class 2) That I'm telling all y'all 3)That I'm paying for the privilege.
That's right. Religion 201. 5 credits.
I'm sure I will bring a unique perspective to the class...wink~wink.

My wiener Dog, Petunia, likes nuts. No, not Moses' nuts, I had his cut off. Real nuts. I don't know the name of them other than the "oh so not politically correct" name that my Grandfather called them, but I think they are Brazil nuts?
She loves them. She will crack them open with her teeth and eat the delicious flesh.

A Wiener partaking of Delicious Flesh, you heard it here first folks.

Speaking of Brazil nuts... My younger sister served her mission in Sao Paulo Brazil (she speaks Pork and Cheese) and is going back there for Christmas....to meet the one that SHE loves!
Damn that Air supply and it's trickle affect! What ever happened to the single rich aunt theory?

Is it really so wrong to have a new toilet on your Christmas wish list?

*This post may or may not have been influenced by a 12 year old, soon to be thirteen year old that I birthed who had "Aunt Floh" visit her for the first time. A cell phone ran over in the parking lot of Movie Gallery. Bleeding hemorrhoids, a Golden Retriever with Hershey Squirts, and the fact that I have a little Captain in me.