2008 Windin' Down

I decided to dig through my 2008 posts and pick the best one. I was thinking that I couldn't possibly narrow it down, but then I found the post about Patricia. Remember her? She was the Avon lady that wouldn't get out of my fucking way last January. Here's a blast from the past. Enjoy!

Damn, Patricia

Update on the Mental Dick (Thanks, Jessie!)

I've started throwing my mental dick around for some practice. This just might work out. Here are two examples.

1. A "friend" on Facebook sent me a message that he was smoking a joint, and then he followed this up with some other weird crap about hippies and dirt. He's 35. 35! Normally, I would have said grow the fuck up, or I would have ranted and raved. I swung my mental dick around, and I deleted his dumb, stoned ass. No message. Just rejection.

2. I was craving a Diet Mountain Dew, so I ran up to the gas station. I was standing in line with my new red bedroom shoes on (this is Eastwick), and a woman tried to break in line. Normally, I would have either rolled my eyes, or I would have ranted and raved. Instead, the cashier finished with her customer, and I just stepped directly in front of the woman and paid for my drink. I didn't give her a nasty look. I didn't call her a bitch. I just paid for my fucking drink and left.

The men are probably wondering why this is such a new thing for me, and I have no explanation for you nor do I really owe you one. It just is. See! I swung it around again! Ha ha!

Be More of a Dick

I've decided on a New Year's resolution. I usually don' t do these unless there is something I really want to work on. I've decided to stop reacting to people like a southern woman. Southern women tend to shoulder the blame, and they worry about how their actions will make others feel. They do these things so much that they begin to worry and tend to forget about themselves. I fall victim to worrying about people who don't really give a shit about me. I also tend to be loyal to them, even when they have never returned the loyalty. Weird, huh? I guess I can thank my southern mother for that one.

I'm going to change my attitude, specifically at work. I'm going to work like a man. No feelings. No loyalty (except for Sukie because she's my bro, yo). If a decision needs to be made, I'm just going to fucking make it. If someone gets hurt, we'll then they should grow a set. I will know that I've reached my goal when someone says, "Man, she's really a dick." That's what people say about the successful men at the company. I think I'm already on my way. The president of the company has decided that I work well with the person he describes as the following..."I think you work well The Taskmaster. She leaves casualties behind, but she gets the job done. I would like you to work with her on more projects for the upcoming year." Any pointers?

The Poot Pillow

My nephew received a whoopie cushion in his stocking this year. I believe he called it a poot pillow. Anyway, it made Mr. Bitchford think of this time that I farted in K-Mart, and he couldn't stop laughing. It was pretty fucking funny, so I thought I would share with you all. First of all, no one goes to K-Mart in Eastwick. They all go to Wal-Mart, which is why I was at the K-Mart in the first place. I was in the face wash aisle, and Mr. Bitchford was two aisles over. There was no one around, and I had bent down to examine the Oil of Olay line of beauty products. I let a giant, loud, and stinky fart rip. As I looked up, there was a horrified woman staring at me from the end of the aisle. I hadn't seen her before. I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I looked at her and said, "Ewww. You're gross." I turned around, and Mr. Bitchford was at the other end of the aisle. He was doubled over with laughter. I walked towards him and whispered, "Just fucking walk away...fast." So, I left that poor soul on the beauty aisle, and she had to lay claim to my rank ass fart. Sorry.

Christmas Carnage

There really wasn't any. We burned up the road, which explains why I haven't been around. We somehow managed to book a room in the mountains on the coldest fucking day of the year. It was still fun, though. I also went a little crazy with the gas fireplace in the room. I managed to crank it up so high that we ran the AC on the coldest day of the year in the mountains. Oh well, it was a good excuse to walk around naked. We had a creepy "Stephen King" moment. We arrived at our room, and there was a giant German Shepherd that wanted in. He belonged to the innkeepers. I closed the door, and he started pawing at it. We went to grab something to eat after that. I told Mr. Bitchford that if we came back and Cujo was sitting in the middle of the bed, then I was leaving.

We finished off Christmas with my family. I think the highlight was my nephew announcing, "I wasn't even good this year, and Santa came anyway!" Sukie came over last night, and we finished off the rest of the white lighting and called it a night. Good times, good times.

My new dog is a sex addict

I have never seen a female dog masturbate--until now. And I am not talking about humping to show dominance. I am talking about giving herself an orgasm. And yes, I am sure that's what she's doing. It took me a while to figure it out, but that's definitely what she's doing.

She usually starts by licking her private parts. Then, she gets really excited, shoves one or both of her paws down there, and starts humping her paws. And then...if I don't interrupt her, she...ahem...finishes, and pants for several minutes as she winds down.

Yes, my dog is maturbating--frequently. And no, I am not happy about it.

Weird Weather

Eastwick is having the weirdest weather. It was 70 and sunny today. Shouldn't it be cold? It's December! I was able to take advantage of my new storm windows, though. So, it's snowing in Vegas, but it's 7o in Eastwick. Can I give a shout out to Al Gore? Seriously, the weather is completely fucked up. On top of everything else, it's fucking with my health. My allergies do not like the constant temperature changes. Maybe I should move to Arizona. Isn't that where people with bad allergies go? I hate the heat, though. Maybe I should move to Savannah, GA and just stay drunk all of the time. Did you know you can carry open containers around Savannah? Well, you can. I digress. This weird weather has really made me reevaluate where Mr. Bitchford and I might move to within the next two years. I doubt we'll stick around Eastwick forever, but I am a southern girl at heart. I love being close to the mountains and the beach; however, if it keeps snowing in Vegas and being unseasonably warm in Eastwick, then who knows where we'll end up. Any suggestions?

Best Bumper Sticker Ever

Mr. Bitchford just called me to tell me about a hilarious bumper sticker. It said, "If you're going to ride my ass, the least you could is pull my hair." What's the best one you've ever seen?

Dear Professor New Jersey,

You suck ass! I just finished a grad course, and I did well. I'm still pissed, though. The professor was useless and never gave me feedback on my work. I did receive two major paper grades, and both were an A. Grades should have posted last night, but I still didn't have a grade showing this morning. I emailed Professor New Jersey (that's where he is from, and he said this at EVERY class meeting), and I asked him why my grade wasn't posted. He told me that I had earned an A, and my participation all semester long had put me in that group. What? I never received a participation grade, so how would I know this? Also, both of my papers were A work, so why didn't those put me in that group? I know. Why am I upset when I earned a good grade? Because he's a piece of useless shit. He never gave me feedback. He required these ridiculous assignments that he never graded. He would run them through some sort of grading software. All of the comments were generated by a computer. And, my grade still hasn't posted! Fucker.

Update: The Peroxide Queen Let Another One Bite the Dust

You guys remember the Peroxide Queen and her VD man that she met online? Well, they were set to be married next year. He had already moved in with her, and she was flashing her diamond to everyone at work. I heard her talking to someone in the break room about pornography. They were trying to decide if the VD man had "crossed the line" or not. I was thinking to myself, "If you have to ask that question, then you probably think he's crossed a line." They spotted me and opened up their pornography gossip circle, so I joined them. Turns out that he had over $10,000 worth of pornography, plus he had a locked room in her house. Excuse me? Locked room in your house? Who the hell lets some strange man from the Internet move in and lock a room in her house? Anyway, he also had his own phone line. He wouldn't let her see anything on his computer. One would think that someone giving you a sexually transmitted disease would be the wake up call, but it took the locked room and the pornography to wake her dumb ass up. She kicked him out. It wouldn't surprise me if she takes him back. We'll see.

Question to Ponder

I was reading Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett, which I highly recommend, and I came across a quote about prayer. I've already turned the book back in, so I can't quote it directly, but it was alluding to the fact that prayer is just another way to worry. She also touches on how true prayer is carried out through deeds. I just found this fascinating, especially since I live in Eastwick where strangers always want to pray for you. This always makes me uncomfortable because prayer seems like it should be a very private thing. Anyway, what do you guys think? Is prayer just another type of worry?

These are a Few of my Favorite Things

My tree of elves' heads. Isn't it weird and great all at the same time?

My Santa that looks alarming like the Oak Ridge Boy with all of the hair.

My favorite "new" ornament. He also looks alarmingly like that hairy Oak Ridge Boy. Maybe there's a theme?

Eastwickeans and Religious Beliefs

I received an email yesterday. It was one of those annoying mass emails about Christmas. I've copied and pasted it for you.


*Twas the month before Christmas*
*When all through our land,*
*Not a Christian was praying*
*Nor taking a stand.*
*See the PC Police had taken away,*
*The reason for Christmas - no one could say.*
*The children were told by their schools not to sing,*
*About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.*
*It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say*
* December 25th is just a ' Holiday '.*
*Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit*
*Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!*
*CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-pod*
*Something was changing, something quite odd! *
*Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa*
*In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.*
*As Targets were hanging their trees upside down*
* At Lowe's the word Christmas - was no where to be found.*
*At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears*
*You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.*
*Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty*
*Are words that were used to intimidate me.*
*Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen*
0A
*On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton !*
*At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter*
*To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.*
*And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith*
* Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace*
*The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded*
*The reason for the season, stopped before it started.*
*So as you celebrate 'Winter Break' under your 'Dream Tree'*
*Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.*
*Choose your words carefully, choose what you say*
*Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS ,
not Happy Holiday !*
Please, all Christians join together and
wish everyone you meet during the
holidays a
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Christ is The Reason for the Christ-mas Season!
If you agree please forward, if not, simply delete.

Here's the problem. Someone that I'm supposed to be pretty close to sent this to me. Normally, I would have called Sukie, bitched about it, and deleted it. It really bothered me, though, that this person should have known me better. I knew her better. I wouldn't have sent her something from Michael Moore or Moveon.org. Before I tell you what I did, I would like to hear from any readers. How would you have responded?

Pay It Forward

Several months ago, I had been bitching about not knowing what to do with my old wedding dress. It was a beautiful dress and had only been worn once. ;) Ha! Anyway, it had been hanging in my dad's closet for years now. I spent way too much money on it, and I had the slip and the veil that matched it. A few weeks ago, my mom called. She said that a woman she worked with wanted to see the dress. The woman is getting married next year, and she needed to find a good deal on a dress. Again, my dress was expensive, so even at half price it was probably too expensive to be called a "deal." I told my mom to do whatever. I loved the dress, but where in the hell was I going to wear it?

My mom called last week and asked me what I was going to do. I said, "Give it to her." My mom took the dress to her, and she cried. She couldn't believe that I was going to give it to her. She said that she took it home for her mother to see, and her mother cried too. The mother couldn't believe that someone just gave her a dress. It felt really good. I don't really feel like I can tell anyone in real life because that would feel like bragging. I can tell the blogsphere because it's like my journal.

The lesson is to pay it forward. I still feel so good about giving her that dress. I loved the dress, but the marriage didn't really work out. I hope she enjoys it and gets the marriage too. She's going to send me a picture after the wedding. It's just a good day.

A Holiday Meme

Why? Because I can! :)

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate?
Mmmm...vodka.

2. Letter to Santa?
Nope, but I do like to sit on his lap. ;)

3. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?
When I was a kid, they were just under the tree. Now, they are wrapped.

4. Colored lights on your tree/house or white?
White. It's probably the only somewhat tasteful thing I do.

5. Do you hang mistletoe?
Nope, but it is hanging from the high limbs of my dying oak trees.

6. When do you put your decorations up?
Day after Thanksgiving, but I was a little late this year.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child:
My grandparents would show up on Christmas morning with the truck loaded down with gifts from Santa. I also loved the stockings my mom put together.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
He's not real?

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
YES! My sister and I have a tradition. We get each other a totally inappropriate Christmas gift every year. Last year, I received a book by Jenna Jameson called How to Make Love Like a Porn Star. I highly recommend it.

10. Can you ice skate?
Yes. I'm a regular Tonya Harding.

11. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Yep. My nephew gave me a 1950's silver Christmas tree with elves' heads all over it. It's kitschy and wonderful.

12. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
I love Christmas Eve at my sister's house. Everyone is loud, happy, and tipsy.

13. What tops your tree?
Bitterness. I used to have this cool tree topper, but my ex-husband fumbled around with his stupid monkey fingers and broke it one year. Asshole.

14. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
Jesus Was Born Today by the Oak Ridge Boys
Please don't judge.

Ok. I would finish this meme, but Mr. Bitchford just walked in naked, so I'm gonna go see what that's all about. Please complete the meme and share with the Bitches. Thanks!

Christmas "Child"

My sister and her husband recently sponsored a "Christmas child" from their church. The church runs some sort of program for adults who are mentally challenged. These adults were able to list three gifts they wanted for Christmas. The gifts were listed on a bag, and the church members could choose a bag. This was very similar to the Angel trees you have seen, where childrens' names are listed on gift tags. So, my brother-in-law was in charge of choosing a bag. Here is who he chose.

Name: Lincoln McMahan
Age: 61
Wishes:
A brown tam
A pair of brown zip ankle boots in a 13 wide
A pair of blue jeans size 60X30

Where in God's name they are going to find these things I will never know. I found it interesting how specific Lincoln was with his requests. I like that. I imagine that I won't be able to miss him if I see him walking down the streets of Eastwick with his tam, ankle boots, and jeans on. I'll see if my sister will take a picture of the "wishes" before she wraps them. This should be interesting.

Where did my Christmas cheer go?

I haven't been in the Christmas mood this year, and this is unusual for me. I've never had a fake tree. My family always had a real one, and I've just kept the tradition alive...until this year. I didn't have it in me to go buy a real one, drag it into the house, and deal with all of the needles drying up and falling on my floor. I knew I had to get a tree, though, because I'm too young to say that I just can't get up and down in the attic anymore. Damn. So, I went to Big Lots, and I found the perfect tree. It's pink!
I love old Christmas ornaments, especially those from the 1950's. Most of the stuff I have has the "Made in Japan" sticker stamped on it. My love of the 1950's doesn't stop with ornaments, though. I've decorated the whole house with this stuff. It makes me feel like Donna Reed gliding across my hardwood floors. So, here I was feeling like a loser because I didn't have a real tree, and the pink tree was just what I needed. It had put me back in the Christmas spirit. I do miss the smell of a real tree, so I bought a Glade plug-in that smells of pine trees. Mr. Bitchford is always freaked out by my vintage Santa Claus. He's convinced that the stuffed Santa will suddenly come to life while he's sleeping, and then he'll swift across the floors and come to his bed to smother him. Crazy, huh? I like to chase after the dogs with the vintage Santa and yell, "Ho, Ho, Ho." It always gets them riled up. Maybe I should do a video of it. Hmmm. How do the rest of you decorate?