kicking and screaming

So, I was lured back to the blogging world...Now, not only do I have to use my personal e-mail, two separate work e-mails, Facebook (got roped into that one too), phone texting (hate it! why can't we just talk on the phone?), and now back to blogging. When did life become so fucking technical? I say we all throw our gadgets in Lake Michigan then go scuba diving to find them. Okay, okay, let's throw them in the Carribean then go scuba diving to find them! Then lay on the beach, get sand up our cracks, and have some down time with a cold bottle of whatever. What happened to climbing mountains, skydiving, just going to the park with the kids, playing hopscotch and all that shit? I feel like I'm naked without my stupid cell phone and now I can't go a day without checking Facebook. Ugh!

All vented out

Okay, I'm better now. Sorry, for the glimpse of hysteria. Just had to get that out. So, how is everyone? I'm back at work for anyone who cares. Good to see all your blogs are up and running, except for slinky, I can't get on. And what the fuck happended to copyranter? Someone go hit that guy upside the head with something large and tell him to keep writing. It's therapeutic! He'll go insane keeping all that shit in. I don't have the time or inclination to fly to NY and search for some ad person named Mark whose office is opposite some billboard. Someone who knows him is just going to have to put a gun to his head...or get some damning photos.

Driving with tears in your eyes, not a good idea

So, last night I had an epiphany and a slight panic attack. I realized that I could probably count the times I've had sex in the past two years on my fingers without needing any more hands to help. This is what my life's become. A sexual beast that's been imprisoned. Woe is me and all that shit. So, I ran out of the house sobbing hysterically with my husband on my heels, jumped on my motorcycle, and took off. He yelled after me to be careful. God watches out for children and fools. I somehow missed the ramp for the highway, which was probably a good thing considering I could barely see at 50 mph with my visor fogging up and tears in my eyes. I could see myself losing it, and realized my children need their mother. So I toned it down and rode the streets at a sedate 35 mph, calmed the beast, and slunk home before midnight. Is it wrong to have to convince yourself "you can do this"? You can kill part of yourself and still survive. I have two beautiful boys who I refuse to make come from a broken home. So, I guess I need to tell my shrink I'm losin it. Is it wrong to want sex from your own husband? He told me in therapy that he's been denying me sex for all these years to punish me. What the fuck? What a waste, WHAT A FUCKING WASTE!!!

It's a boy...and human!

Hello all. Thanks to NYPunk for the interest! I unfortunately did not name the monster child (8 lb. 12 oz at birth) "Punk" . My little monster is growing well, and my crotch is recovering. I've decided I'm going to write a book about why children are like puppies. You know, we have to teach them both to sit, come, settle down, take them for walks, clean them/clean up after them, give them toys, etc. They both beg for treats, and circle like maniacs to get your attention. Jump on you and try to lick your face. The list goes on. I won't tell you about the beatings, you'll have to buy the book for that!

I'm still alive...and pregnant!

Hello all! Yes, I'm still around. I've got about five to six weeks to go with this little monster in my belly, depending on if the doctor is going to induce early. My pubic bone is shifting/dislocating about 20 times a day in case you're interested. And it hurts like a son of a fucking bitch! I've always wanted a daughter, but it looks like I'm going to just have to be happy with two sons because I am NEVER getting pregnant again! Well, that's my update, I'm going to go ice my crotch now...

I'm still alive...and pregnant!

JUST SHUT UP NOW

IF SOMEONE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE IS PREGNANT, WALK AWAY! DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES TRY TO COMMISERATE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT THEY ARE GOING THROUGH. NO BITCH, YOUR PREGNANCY WAS NOTHING LIKE MINE. WOW, REALLY, I LOOK LIKE I'M DUE ANY DAY NOW? NOPE, NOT TILL AUGUST ASSHOLE!!!
SO, I'VE BEEN TAKING MY SON TO THE PARK DOWN THE STREET AND I CAN'T BELIEVE THE COMMENTS AND (UNSOLICITED) ADVICE PEOPLE GIVE ME. SOME WHACK JOB WAS GIVING ME MEDICAL ADVICE BECAUSE SHE JUST TOOK A WOMEN'S HEALTH CLASS. GREAT. A COMPLETE STRANGER TOLD ME TO GET SOME KIND OF BIOMETRIC READING FOR THE BEST BIRTHING POSITION. IT'S REAL SIMPLE SHE SAYS, THEY JUST ATTACH TWO PROBES TO YOUR ANUS AND HAVE YOU MOVE AROUND UNTIL THEY FIND THE POSITION THAT LEAVES YOU THE MOST RELAXED WHICH SHOULD BE YOUR BIRTHING POSITION DURING DELIVERY. SHE WAS COMPLETELY SERIOUS AND SINCERE.
WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!

Are you an asshole?

I get a kick out of Jeff Foxworthy's "....(then) you're a redneck". Well, I'd like to spin this off to "...(then) you're an asshole". Okay, I'll start.

• If you clear off one tiny patch of snow off your windshield then drive off with two feet of snow on top of your car which causes said snow to spill off onto the clean car behind you (me) on the highway, you're an asshole.
• If you make eye contact with a person (me) who is going through the same door as you, then do not hold the door for them when they are RIGHT behind you, you're an asshole.
• If you tell a pregnant woman (me) that "WOW, you're already huge", then you're an asshole.
• If you let some loser at your loser friend's wedding get away with grabbing your fiance's ass so you don't make a scene, you're an asshole.
• If you tell your wife (not me) you hope she loses all that weight she's gaining (due to pregnancy), you're an asshole.

I could go on and on, but I'll save some for later. So, go on, tell me your "...you're an asshole" stories. And yes, women can be assholes too.

I'm taking a poll...

Okay, I know that there's a bunch of snow outside and the thought of outdoor activities makes me shudder, but for some unknown reason I was thinking about bike riding. Not motorcycle/bike, but bicycle/bike. My son (who is not yet 2) got a little dirt bike style bicycle with training wheels for Christmas...even though I told the person who bought it not to because I just bought him a tricycle. Anyway, someone brought up that I had to find a helmet to fit my little man. Though I freak out when he falls, I want him to learn that if you do crazy things, sometimes you get hurt. I can tell you that 99.9% of scars on my body came from running around outside, climbing things, falling off of things, etc. I see it as a right of passage. Every scar tells a story that makes me laugh and shake my head. Not one person that I know had a helmet to ride a bike when they were little. But it seems that now, if you don't cover your children in helmets/knee pads/ a full body pillow, that you're a horrible parent. I don't relish the thought of my son bleeding and crying for me, but I don't want him to be a wimp. Scars show that you've lived. That you tried. That you were stupid and didn't listen to your mommy, but you survived. I wish I could wrap him in a cocoon sometimes and hide him from the world, but I am somewhat disgusted by the new generation's obsession with video games/TV/cell phones/etc. When my son has children of his own, I want him to be able to say, when I was your age, I played OUTSIDE!!! With sticks and mud and bugs!!!

So, after all that, here's the poll:
Did you/do you wear a helmet while riding a bicycle?
Do you/or plan to make your kids wear helmets?

Just curious :)

Hallmark Holiday?

Valentine's Day is fast approaching. What the hell do you get a man for V-day, besides a blow job? I usually get him something small that he's been wanting, and the token suck or fuck, yet I expect (and never get) something more (usually it's flowers, maybe a card). I'm the woman. Don't I deserve something shiny? Or is this just another way for retailers to brainwash me into thinking I need something that sparkles? Usually birthdays and Christmas (now Mother's Day) is the big thing. Why the heck to we need V-Day, Sweetest Day, and all these other Hallmark Holidays? Why will we all "gather around the water cooler" on the 15th and talk about our significant others presents or lack thereof? Is it really about the present, the thought, the retail market, or the showing off? Is it just the one day to be romantic? Because, I want romance every fucking day!
Does anyone even know why we celebrate V-day? Because some monk named Valentine went to prison for trying to marry soldiers after the king/caesar/whatever you call him decided that no soldiers should marry so they could better serve him. So some kids sent him letters while he was in prison, and the Valentine was born. What the hell is Sweetest day? I'm all for presents, but aren't we getting a little bit carried away with all of this?
Of course, the princess in me really wants to delete this, but I won't let her!!!!

a cube with a view

My "office" (a blue cube) sits directly eye-level across from the Daley Center Plaza Picasso. I was treated to the sculpture wearing a Bears baseball hat this morning. I am a huge Bears fan, so I'm a little miffed that they used a baseball hat and not a helmet. Newsflash Mayor Daley the Dufus: THE BEARS PLAY FOOTBALL!!!

btw, if anyone has an extra $12-17K they'd like to use to buy me a couple Superbowl tickets, I wouldn't say no!!! :) Da Bears!!!

nickname of the week...

I'm not joking, this is for real. Some mixed race bad ass gang banger is called "Icky Red". Light skin with a reddish hue and freckles on a six foot something drug runner is supposed to justify this. I can just see it now. "Hey, Icky, got any rock?". Or how about "Icky Red runs rock down by the rowhouses". Say that ten times fast!

comments vs. compliments

I'm carrying my second alien and have already started to show. My mother told me, "you're going to look like a boat soon, just like with the first one". Gee, thanks Mom. I realized as she looked at me all innocently that she had no clue what she just said was SO WRONG! This got me thinking to all the backwards half-assed comments I've ever been the victim of. Then I started thinking about all the real compliments I've ever received. I'd say one of the best compliments I've ever received was actually nearly a decade ago, and though I've gotten quite a few since then, this one has stuck with me. I was on the bus standing next to a man in a wheelchair. He had no legs. As we reached my stop and a got ready to leave, he tells me I have really nice feet. I smile and say thank you. Then I think, he probably looks at peoples legs/feet all the time, and he told ME that I had nice feet. That is the compliment that I'll never forget for as long as I live.
So, what kind of compliment (good or backhanded) or awful comments have you gotten?

nickname of the week...

I know, you're all dying to find out this week's gang banger winner. More probable is the fact that you think I'm strange for doing this. Basically, this is more for me than for you. Anyway, this week's winner is....drum roll..."007" . Yes, a middle-aged black man is running around pretending to be super spy extraordinaire. I'm actually going to blame the parents for this one...guess what his real God-given name is? Yeah.

2007

Happy New Year! I've noticed that quite a few people are talking about New Year's resolutions. I don't make any. It's too hard to live up to my own expectations! Oh, well! Hope everyone has a safe and happy year.

A Very Merry Christmas to all! May you find yourself under the mistletoe with someone worth kissing!

How far would you go?

Sorry, I've been handed a new assignment. No nicknames this week. But I'd like to pose a question. Hypothetically, of course, how far would you go to escape your life? Would you beg, borrow, and steal to try for a better life for yourself? This new case, hypothetically, has brought a lot of questions in my mind. Would you put your trust in a stranger to get you across the border? Would you sell your possessions? What about your body? I find myself looking down on people in poor situations because I think that they could make a better life for themselves if they tried. Maybe I think that because I know that I would do whatever it took to get what I wanted. Then I think...how far would I go. Would I sell by body for some money? Would I steal for food? Maybe. Then the cop in me kicks in. And I think how wrong it is. But what if ...? So I ask you, how far would you go?

tagged then bagged

I've apparently been tagged by overseas mammalian fishnchimps. It's some form of blogger chain mail. I'm supposed to state/confess five unknown facts about myself and "tag" five others. Well, here are the things I can share without having to A-go to jail, B-live my life in exile, or C-refer to A and B.

1. I played high school football, on the boy's team.
2. I have made love to a woman
3. I like to do things in odd numbers...walk steps, take sips of water, click my pen, buy things, etc.
4. I had sex so hard/rough that I gave my partner at the time a black eye . He never admitted how he got it the next day at work.
5. I have been loved by few, lusted by many, and fucked by everybody at one time or another


I don't think you guys have been tagged yet. Sooo, my five tags are:

NewYorkPunk--whoever you are
MoreBetterLies --John
Copyranter --"Mark"
Slinky --Mr. Redfoot
Maulleigh--motorcycle mistress

person of the year

I'd like to take a moment to pat myself on the back. You might not realize it, but you are reading the post of Time magazine's "Person of the Year". That's right. Me. No, wait, YOU too! You are also Time's "Person of the Year". Apparently someone in the top slot was feeling indecisive this year, so they decided to skip the vote and make everyone famous. Congratulations everyone. We (me, myself, and I) couldn't have done it without you.

nickname of the week...

Has it been a week already? This week's bad-ass gangbanger award was a toss up. I was going to give it to "Squirrel", but alas, this week's winner is "Chubby". Yes, you. Whose nickname has probably caused more than one fatal drive by. The next burger's on me. Idiot.