got nothing but toejam

All about pee.

2009-11-23T17:10:00.001-05:00

Yerknow I was thinking while taking my shower, that we [as Australians] have a lot of meanings to the word piss besides the taking of one.

Piss OFF before I punch yer head in…a direction when angered.
Oh piss off, yer takin the piss!…disbelief at a tall story.
Taking the piss…making fun of.
Piss on you!…insult.
Drinking the piss at a piss-up…drinking beer/alcohol at a party.
It was a right pisser…a let down.
She was pissy…bit tipsy from the alcohol.
She was pissy…bit angry, possibly because all the alcohol has been drunk.
Piss’d me pants…either laughing or from fright.
Pissed off…as in left or an angry state of mind.

Which brings me to...

Hands up who takes a pee in the shower?

Now is the winter of my discontent.

2009-10-29T20:30:00.001-04:00

I just realized a positive with it coming into *piss, bitch and moan* Winter.

The LittleFatBastid gets into I AM Hunter mode and is gone a lot.

This year he is better set-up for it, with a new kit of knives and saws. No. Not used for the killing. Yeah. Haha I can picture the FatBastid leaping out from behind a bush in camouflage face paint with knife thrust high in the air as he leaps onto startled passing deer. He may look like a caveman but he has not the agility of one. Now the grunts he has down pat.

Now he has a blind. He can sit and sit and sit, oh and still sitting, then shoot future suppers in sheltered comfort. He’s getting older, the snow, ice and rain affects his bones now. You’d think with all that extra natural insulation the FatBastid would be immune to it all uh.

I’m still amazed that people can be shocked or even offended with the loving term I use for my husband. But he IS Little, Fat and technically he IS a Bastard. Always find it funny, when those same one’s don’t bat an eye at their own use of the term motherfucker.

I know that I AM in KinFucky. But really. That happens more further south. ArHaHaHaaa.

Talking of relations…in both family and biblical sense. There’s this one resident in the nursing home that I just can’t bloody take to.

I dunno if its her squeaky little voice.
Her needy little ways.
Her big bulgy eyes that continually chase each other from side to side.
Or if it’s her fetid morning, noon and night breath.

I just can’t take to her. I have tried. She’s been there for a year or so now.

When she moved into the home, her homemade dresses also came to live. I have NEVER. EVER. seen such ugly-arsed dresses. They are all in the same style. About six or seven of them. In various colors with a mainstay of black throughout them all. A big wide length of material sprouts from the side seams, supposed to end up in a bow tied at the back. Yeah maybe when she didn’t weigh 250 pounds that may have worked. She’s a bit of a heifer now. I believe the dresses were patterned from one of the outfits out of a kewpie dolls wardrobe.

After first seeing one, I asked my boss if her family did not like her. Dressing her so.

Thus she is now known as MissKD.

MissKD came from a home life of having her poor semi-crippled mother at her beck, fetch and call. The crippled part is the reason we have MissKD at the home in the first place. The mum went into hospital for an operation and rest of the family could not care for. Or didn’t want to. I know which one it’d be if she were my sister. When the mum came out, I believe they discovered life wasn’t so bad, what with being out from under the thumb of slavedom and decided MissKD could remain where she bloodywell was.

You can tell she is used to being the only one needful. Having had numerous people doing tasks for her, she is unused to the living amongst 29 [on her wing] other people who are just as needful of another ones care. I hate seeing her “stuff” come down to the laundry. I know that she’ll be continually nagging everyone, me included until “whatever” is returned. Normally I wouldn’t give a rats-arse about her bugging the aides…yeah, sit on that call-light MissKD…but they in turn start bugging me about them.

The mother, father and a who-seems-to-be-normal-sister visit MissKD just about every day. The father and the who-seems-to-be-normal-sister take turns. But the mother. Always there. I quite like the family. They seem like just poor, good hearted simple folk. They just accidentally created and nurtured a fucking she-bitch of a monster.

After a few days of the laundry staff copping MissKD’s continual questions…

Apos are you working tonight? I could sense she was about to launch into instructions about how to wash and hang her dress. I cut her off with a…Well, no MissD I am here now, I work days mostly. Thelma is on tonight.

And her demands…

I only want Do-It-All-Dottie to do my dresses -- that was in a note left for my boss aided and abetted by Do-It-All, who had written it.

I finally got a tad snippy with her. She had made a big song and dance about “oh they came back” followed by a big fat happy sigh. TWICE…Well yes MissKD, of course “they came back”. Nobody else would lay claim to these dresses. We ALL know who owns them.

What I had time to edit was…Well Fuck yes “they came back” you bulgy-eyed-troll-doll. Nobody else in their right fucking mind would want to wear such ugly-arsed dresses. Hideous bloody things they are.

Yeah. I just can’t take to her.

checks the date

2009-10-20T16:53:00.000-04:00

Thinks I’m being pretty damn good to you people. I mean it’s just the twentieth and here I am back in blooger world blooging again. Either. Life has been pretty good or I’m letting IT treat me crappily. Luckily for youse it’s been pretty good. Or moreso I just partook of some homegrown AND I think it’s pretty good…Now I’m thinking, some days I tend to say “pretty” a lot.

I’ve been doing that FaceBook thing, have been for about a month or so.

How’s that bloody FarmVille. Stupid addicting game. I love it.

Don’t like all those soppy applications so much. People sending me hugs etc. Not that I am against hugs per se but I do find it kinda weird that complete strangers want to hug me. Then I think, hell they’re only human. Hee.

I find I can be bluntly non-offensive on that “add friend request”.

Had one last night from a motherly-figure in my red-headed-step-sister-in-law’s life… Yes, the lazy sister-in-law is on my friend list, so is that retarded Dora-the-Explorer look-alike that lives next door to her. But I digress, I was telling about the motherly figure…I debated whether to just add this woman. Then I remembered those “soppy applications”, so I sent her a message instead asking if she FarmVilled otherwise I wasn’t interested…We will see if I add another neighbour to me farm.

Work has been rather hellish.

Last week , I found myself muttering and mumbling about the crap-arsed job. In one particular moment I even went as far as to snarl at my boss that no-one should have to work like a dog for $7.75 a fucking hour. Then we both looked at the three mounds of laundry I had piled, waiting for their turn in the full washers. She agreed and let me rant a bit longer before she apologized about the pay-scale.

But what can you do eh.

This week we are down a dryer. Been five days so far. I have fingers crossed that the repairman is in there now fixing the bastard. Would hate to see it drag into the sixth day.

I might be pissed off tomorrow.

Truth of the matter, I will either pull my finger out and do something about it [as in, look for better pay AND conditions] or just get over it because it’s close to home, it’s dayshift and I don’t have any responsibilities. I mean real responsibilities. I can leave work at work. Well, I can if I don’t blog about it. HaHa.

Plus my boss loves me.

Deservedly so, tho.

I have thought about swapping with Do-It-ALL-Dottie, she the hag like woman who does the majority of nightshifts. Just for the change of pace and change in staff faces but with winter approaching I want to be home at night during those oncoming bastard months. I loathe and abhor winter. Sorry MotherNature.

Plus, she [Do-It-ALL] is wanting my position, well wanting a dayshift one anyway. Claims her husband doesn’t see too good to drive over and pick her up at night. That well may be so. I’d be shutting my eyes at the thought of witnessing Do-It-ALL’s beauty as well. HaHa…Mean. I might have accommodated her through some of our shifts, with a swap here and there during the five-weekly schedule.

That is until I heard that she had been complaining about the GoodSheilaWoman that fills in on my days off. Then I thought, well Fuck Her, if that’s how Do-It-ALL’s going to try and “claim” some day work. By bad-mouthing the GoodSheila…heh and yes Sheila is actually her name….who also works like a dog and for less money.

Had a H1N1 shot today. Took it up both snot-holes. Joy.

My Oh Bloody My.

2009-10-01T21:17:00.000-04:00

How the time has flown.

Vagina = 44 years!!

Long time no Bloggie!

2009-09-27T17:38:00.003-04:00

I am not one to apologise for absences, well absences in blog world.

Other than to say I been heaps busy beeatches. Yeowzaah.

Me and TheMoo [the dog] had an altercation with a skunk.

Skunk…1
TheMoo…0
Moi…0.5

I got a point because even when the damn dog chased the tail-waving skunk in my direction I was too fleet of foot to get a spray. Having long legs comes in handy when escaping the wildlife. However, I did, alas have to subtract half a point for having to deal with the aftermath of it all. Oh well, the FatBastid was able to fulfill his want of candles and incense sticks. Dude I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such big incense sticks. For a minute there I thought I musta been in bloody Texas.

FatBastid and his friend GoodForNothingJohn are joy-filled and plenty relieved that we purchased a brand spanking new under warranty for a couple of year’s ride-on mower for the next mowing season. They have done it tough. What with the mower continually breaking down and GoodForNothingJohn dabbling in lawnmower repairs, they were a pair of perfectly matched mates.

This past Saturday FatBastid had a trip to the local emergency room. He hadn’t had a poop since Thursday and if you know my FatBastid, he is nothing but regular. Almost after every meal regular. They were thinking it was appendicitis and if it was, he was going into surgery that night. After the CAT scan it was determined that he had perfectly healthy appendixes, but an inflamed intestine. After speaking with his family doctor a scope was deemed not necessary, much to FatBastids [and my] relief, we are both still medically uninsured. Now all is well with him and his bodily functions. Thank Bubbha, as I couldn’t take his pain any more, well, the telling me constantly about the pain etc. Yes, I know sometimes I am not too empathetic, but it usually takes a while before I start getting intolerant. They were a few long-arsed days, I tell ya.

Uhm. Oh yes, we purchased a freezer. Yay. Just in time for the encroaching blerh winter and deer season. The only good thing about blerh winter is the possibility of deer chilli and deer hamburger. Oh, and it somewhat slows down the visitors.

We planted our orchard. Well okay, FatBastid did most of the planting. I just helped with the selection of the fruit trees, oh and the paying of them. Two plum, two peach and two apple trees are thriving in their little mulched beds as I type. I’m sure both the deer and us will appreciate his efforts in years to come.

We have gone high tech, well high-bloody-tech for us. WiFi has been keeping us both on the net. My time is divided between yahoo chat, internet shops and playing games at Gamesville. Best $50 we ever spent. The best $136 we spent was in buying a MagicJack, going with a 5-year plan, bye bye phone bill.

TheMoo even went high tech and got some high dollar jewellery. She is now the proud owner of a $300 bloody WiFi dog collar. No, it’s not studded with precious stones. It’s studded with two probes that will shock her arse back within our fence line. Well, it will when we turn it onto that. At this stage she is on the *beep beep beeping* Danger Dog Robinson stage.

Here’s the spoilt bitch now.

Relations and other Irritations.

2009-07-02T12:55:00.000-04:00

You know, sometimes I want to hurt the LittleFatBastid really bad.

He annoys me so.

I know, I know. That’s relationships innit.

Luckily for him he has vacated the premises. I don’t believe the cupboard doors coulda sustained another round of closings…not quite slammed but neither gentle. Not noisy enough to risk his wrath but enough that I felt slightly, just ever so slightly better. But boy did those dishes get a good workout. I washed them bastards hard.

Ha. I get mad and do the dishes. If I’m really pissed off I clean the whitegoods…stove, microwave fridge. Fuck me ay. But its either do the dishes or unleash my no holds barred tongue on him. Yes I do have that ability to say not really what I mean always, but what I mean in the moment.

Why you little cocksuckingmotherfuckingprick…blah blah!

Yo! Feel the love uh.

Speaking of love.

I do adore my friend Alky but dammit sometimes I’m irritated by her habit of repeating herself or over-explaining things. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m like everyone else she knows, but fuckme I have the capability of remembering shit. And sometimes I’m pretty smart.

I am about to be tested.

We are going down to her brothers houseboat. Leave Sunday arvo returning the Tuesday one. Well, maybe we are going. She still has to confirm it with him. Which is something that irritated me. I thought it was a done deal. I mean I arranged to miss a day of work. A day, somebody who earns $7.50 an hour can’t really afford to miss. But she nagged me enough to the point I thought, yeah this little trip might be alright. It would get me out of this county and away from the same old scenery. A new scenery that must contain a mountain or two. After her third mention of seeing these mountains I had to tell her I have actually seen mountains before. Admittedly not this mountain. But Fuck. It’s a mountain. Move on.

Since she got fired I have seen a lot more of Alky. Like every day. Or so it seems. The blessing is she doesn’t stay overly long, just long enough to eat, piss and repeat shit I heard from her the previous visits.

Like, to remind me that I only need a set of clothes for the trip down there and the trip back and my swim togs for the day we are there. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m a prissy girl who doesn’t know how to pack for a two night stay somewhere, or, she thinks I’m rich enough to have a lot of clothes. There’s not much choice in my summer wardrobe. Shorts, tee-shirts, two pairs of ¾ sport-daks… okay now lets eliminate the ones that are holey and/or bleach stained…short, tee-shirt and the two pairs of daks. As for the swimming togs. Yeah right. I only do swimmers in the privacy of me. Cut-offs and singlet will suffice.

Or, to not smoke in her non-smoking-sister-in-laws car, if she gets to borrow it. Again, I thought it was a done deal and she was borrowing it. The non-smoking bit, I knew that soon as she said her sister-in-law didn’t smoke. See. Smart with a capital esssss.

Or, to make sure we vacuum, do dishes, make beds, turn breaker box off. Basically leave it as you find it. I was pretty sure, the brother as wealthy as he is, would not have a maid-service for his houseboat. All but the breaker box turnoff, I would think was a given yerknow.

Arrghhh but she’s a very good and generous person who means well, can be really quite fun when she isn’t repeating the same old shit. Maybe by the end of the trip I will have her trained enough to the “Bullshit Off” command to respect and not be hurt by it.

Death and other cat-as-trophies.

2009-06-27T14:34:00.002-04:00

So there’s been a few deaths lately uh.

My mother-in-law not liking to be outdone in the death, destruction and tragedy department rang to inform us that the RedHeadedStepSister’s cat had got run over.

I’m leaving the next few lines blank until I can think about a more acceptable emotion that may have washed over me in that moment. An emotion other than. WTF do I bloody care. Damn thing was a killing machine. Birds. Baby BunnyRabbits…and my fucking frogs. Well okay not technically my frogs but I like frogs so they’re all classed as mine. I much prefer the bird, bunnies and frogs to the “domesticated” feline.

We did encourage her to buy a bell for the killing machine. Encouragement was stepped up after I tied the wacking big “come and get it” bell around the cats neck…[Yes. I’m joking…thought about it tho] and a tinkly bell was purchased. It lasted around the cats neck for about a week or so. Don’t know if it came off on it’s own accord, or if it was aided and abetted by someone.

That is their excuse for not going to a birthday do for two of her grandkids.

The death of the cat.

I can’t help but think. Did the cat have a last thought?

Karmic or otherwise.

He’ll never be eligible for Mensa.

2009-06-22T03:04:00.000-04:00

I think I’ve made mention of my father-in-law being non to bright. A polite way of saying it would be, he’s dumber than a sack full of arseholes…except arseholes at least know that that’s crap that they’re cranking out.

“Mom. MOM. Johnny and me had to ring eleven-eleven-nine just then!!!”.

Luckily for the injured man it was Johnny who did the dialling.

He got laid off work about three months back. I didn’t think my mother-in-law would survive it. Him being home all the time, well home when he isn’t next door helping his friend John with his lawnmower repair business. Yeah he’s good at lifting things and fetching tools. Sometimes he’ll fetch the wrong tool. Sometimes he’ll fetch it wrong three times over. Usually you’d hear John start yelling a description of the wanted tool after the third time. Patience of a bloody saint that man John. I would’ve got the tool myself and been beating him about the head [lets face it, couldn’t give him anymore brain damage] and body after the second fuck-up.

Whose a cranky cow?

But my mother-in-law must be coping okay with his continual presence on the home front. She’s made an appointment to get him on disability for dummies. And Fuck if ever a man was eligible for this it’s him. I thank Bubbha that my husband is not from his loins. It’s his step dad. Although my mother-in-law would also be thinking that their home will be paid for if he gets it. Therefore she may be able to retire earlier also.

Then I think she’ll do him in. I know I bloody would.

Who are the three most dangerous people?

A bitch with a gun.
A motherfucker with a knife.
And a cocksucker with a broken tooth.

HaHa. Sorry but it made me laugh.

And after the day I’ve had I need a bloody good laugh. It all started with the phone ringing at 4.06am. They wanted me to come into work early as there had been a fire at the nursing home. Turns out there were no flames to this fire just lots and lots of smoke. Smoke that permeated all through the rooms. Hence a helluva lot of washing for the SuperLaundryCow to attend to. I have never seen so many laundry piles…well not since the HalfPriceSpecialGirl finally got fired.

Well crud.

2009-06-18T15:45:00.001-04:00

I’ve been gone so long I’ve forgotten how to fix my heading. HaHa. Oh well. Couldn’t be bothered relearning so we’ll all deal with it. Yeah? Yeah!

That is until it bugs my sense of balance....okay only took a day to start bugging me and I FINALLY found wtf was up with it. Frig I can be real cleverer at times. Heh

So you’d think after being away so long I would have oodles, simply oodles to yap about. Well guess what. I have bugger all.

Hmm.

We have a house.

We have just over five bloody lovely acres. Bloody lovely until it comes time to mow the two cleared acres of it. But that’s the FatBastids bitch, not like I mow them.

We have a dog. It’s a bitch of a thing. MistyMoo when she’s being good and that fucking dog of yours [directed at the husband] when she’s being not so good.

Still employed at the nursing home. Trying not to be. Figuring I can work just as hard slinging hotdogs at the local Kahns factory as I can at slinging shit from the dirty bed sheets. But alas rejection was in the mail today. Application still on file.

Been living amongst the HillBillies for over two years now. Boy time flies when yer having some fun and sometimes none. I’m still amazed at what breathes around me. A fine example of why it should be mandatory to have blood tests before getting married. Not that a blood test would stop the breeding program around here. Yeah, shoulda wiped that one on a tissue buddy!

I’ve discovered DrugStore. Com. Admittedly not the drugs I would like to order online but kinda fun all the same.

See. I did forewarn about the lack of substance in my life.

No pun intended. Although somewhat fitting.

Haven’t had that for waay too long. Perhaps that’s the reason for being blog slacking.

Anyway I say good day to yew!

FuckMeDead what a weekend.

2008-03-30T21:48:00.001-04:00

Thankfully I have tomorrow off, then four days work then I am bloody well free from God’s Waiting Room for ssssix daaaays.

Halle-fucking-lulah.

I dunno what came first. The sense of smell or the sense of touch. But I knew when I was elbow deep in the biggest runniest clumpiest piece of crap I have EVER known to be expelled from an old person’s orifice. That it wasn’t gunna be a good day. Oh JoY. Another day like yesterday. Another day where the fuckwits certified as the nursing aides can NOT fucking decipher the words Laundry and Trash OR know their pre-school colours. See we trrrry and make it easier for them. Yelllllow is for laundry and gray is for the stinking fecal filled DIAPERS.

DeadShits!

Luckily it took me a good ten minutes to go through the cleaning/sanitising of myself. I came oh so close to storming the upstairs and slamming the unbagged diaper and bedpad on the nurses counter. But that would have meant the housekeeper would have been stuck cleaning the shit splatters that would have exploded on everything in the near vicinity. Not like she was the one who mistook the barrels.

So to help make myself feel better I left a note for the HagLikePottie instead.

HaHaHa.

It was the second one I’ve left her this week.

Yeaah. See if she hugs me next time she see‘s me.

HA!

I feel like I should be saying I’ve died and gone to heaven.

2008-03-14T00:46:00.001-04:00

But fuckme wouldn’t I be lying!

That HorribleHag of a woman called Pottie has either been…a) smoking the bleach…b) sniffing the softener…Or…c) believes we are laundressers-in-arms fighting the good laundry fight or something annoyingly unifying.

Whichever one, I wish the fuck she’d stop hugging on me.

No really.

I told that HOH 420 Prancey she needs to get a directive out that no laundry staff is allowed to hug me. Especially Pottie as I am somewhat concerned that her lazy arsed ways might be catching. It’s not that I am against people hugging me [I mean, they are only human after all]…it’s just I like to actually “like” you before you do invade my personal space. Pottie I do not specifically like much.

The last two times I have crossed paths with her she has bloodywell hugged me.

Both times I have thought WTF is she hugging me for and now can someone, anyone, please stop her. I don’t care if they need to pinch her really hard to get the she-heathens grip released, just do it! If it happens again [and I have no doubt that it won’t] I am just going to start shrieking my bloody head off and hopefully the other staff will NOT think it’s just one of the Resoes having their yelling fit.

This is all much to the enjoyment of my fellow smokees, especially one of the nurses who cackles hard when I’m telling them about these horrific hugging experiences. More to the enjoyment of my mother-in-law who was fortunate enough to witness the last incident.

Speaking of work…haha as if I got anything else to talk about. Seems that’s all I get to do lately. Work. Oh. AND train two new laundressers. HaHa UnReliableJune quit. Finally. I did my best to instil good linen folding techniques, extolling the virtues of neatness to both trainees. I managed to refrain from openly threatening them if they become SloppySallies.

One is a lady of about sixty, SillySheila who on the first day of training said she can’t read very good so she’ll just hold up the name tag on the Resoes personals to match up to the names on the rooms. I just fucking looked at her and started to laugh in disbelief, mixed with a little bit of horror. Returning the personals is gunna take bloody ages for you then isn’t it, is what I told her.

I don’t think she’ll hack the laundry too well, 420 said not only was the sweat dripping off her and the laundry room covered in washing the first day she worked alone but she had to get 420 to return B-Wings personals. A task 420 wouldn’t be interested in doing every one of poor old Sheila’s shifts. That goes without saying.

The other is Dusk, in her thirties and lives close by. Bit squirrelly. But she’ll keep up with it good enough. If she forgets to do something the first time she’ll remember the second go round. Admittedly I could “help” Dusk more. Did a room plan and stuck it on the wall plus a written running list she can refer back too if needed. No use doing the same for that dear old SillySheila. She might have nothing to match the letters up to.

I had to laugh at 420’s reaction to this bit of inability to read info. She said well she signed all the forms. I’m like well yes 420 she’s gunna be able to sign her name, doesn’t mean she read the documents. Then she said that explains why SillySheila asked one of the office staff if she could take the forms home then bring them back signed the next day. Nevermind. She makes a good housekeeper. And she does.

Egg rolls and toothbrushes.

2008-02-20T18:35:00.000-05:00

I should be disgusted with myself. I’m so easy. Just buy me egg-rolls and my tolerance meter for people who shit me, restarts. Arhaaha. But Bubbha damn they are worthy and good.

Welp. As of February 1st, I got my fulltime position…*I acknowledge all yer clappings*… And got it with very little spiel needed. Actually I didn’t have to even talkto the Administrator…wasn’t he lucky. HaHaa! I only had to mention that I am seeking employment elsewhere. Yes, that is all it took to send 420 Prancey scurrying up to the Administrators office to ask for me to be fulltime. She was as surprised as I that he agreed without any need for argument. When told that she was taking the schedule home over the weekend to rework it, he told her he “didn’t care how she did it, just do it”.

So now I have the dubious honour of being the first ever fulltime laundressaah!

I hahaHA at the naysayers, namely the LittleFatBastid and my mom-in-law who said it would neverever happen in the laundry department.

Although, now I think I am about to be royally fucked by 420’s lack of ability in scheduling. I hope she makes me eat those words. But I have this awful feeling that some of my usual dayshifts are going to be given to her mother Odelle and I’ll be placed on the nightshifts. Mainly because Odelle who has been re-employed as the PRN…whatever that stands for, but she‘s the “back-up”…can’t see to drive at night. Ooooh ookay…*here I am making the WTF Face*…that makes sense, a PRN that can’t cover ALL and ANY shifts.

I’m thinking I might as well just bend over and part my fulltime cheeks now. But time will tell eh. Maybe it won’t be such an ouchie whose yer Momma moment.

Today, just when I think my life can’t be anymore rosier and joyful. I discover that the [sometimes fucking] painful irritant that has taken up residence on my little left toe is a corn. So now I can truthfully say I am experiencing all feetal [haha] impediments. My left money-foot contains all of the following…a heel spur, a bunion and an ingrown toenail.

But before you all start feeling my pain.

Let me tell you about the most disgusting, gut heaving moment I experienced about a week back.

My father-in-laws Aunt Ruth carked it. They were at the layout and had been for some time. I head upstairs to use the bathroom, the loo specifically. Whilst I am perched on said loo doing my wee I look over at the sink and notice the toothpaste is left unscrewed. That’s okay all I thought was damn lazy fuckers can’t even put the lid back on. I then think ahh I might as well brush the fangs while I’m in here. As I’m washing my hands I notice a toothbrush that looked funnily enough just like the new bendy headed purple one I had just brought that morning. I open up the cabinet to get my brush out of my toiletry bag, when motherFUCKER that IS my toothbrush.

YES! My father-in-law, he the brush only for weddings/layouts/funerals oral hygienist had used my fucking toothbrush.

As I said to the LittleFatBastid afterwards, I am so friggin thankful that he left it on the counter, un-rinsed of toothpaste and with food particles and gungy bits still stuck to it because if he hadn’t I would have been none the fucking wiser and would have used it.

Soon as he came in the door I told him Oi! we might be buddies but you using my bloody toothbrush is where I draw the bloody line at!

ooohkay are we all throwing up in our mouths now, or just me still?

So here I am with a spare moment up my sleeve.

2008-01-30T14:32:00.000-05:00

With the internet gods and the LittleFatBastid willing I may just get to finish and post this.

I have settled in quite nicely at Gods Waiting Room, a little too nicely if yer asking the LittleFatOne. I have conquered not only dayshift but also nightshift personnel. HaHa. Shame I’ll have to pull the finger out and look further a field for a better job. One with benefits and ~~more~~ better scheduled hours. That major HOH 420 Prancey has little clue when rostering staff, unless her wish is to undermine their health. Double shifts then backing up the next day. She’s just lucky I desire the mighty American dollar.

The LittleFatBastid keeps pointing the invisible finger at a factory that sits across the railway line from the nursing home. The same one I look at every smoke and lunch break. Funny all I feel when I look across at the cold metal building is bleakness. God’s Waiting Room is full of aliveness, which is amusing, considering it’s full of old cranky people waiting to die.

It’s because of my optimism that I remain there. I’m optimistic that soon they will realise my extreme worthiness and employ me with fulltime hours. I’m working my way up to a “chat” with the Administrator about the possibility of such. I know he likes me. I make him laugh. The benefits to them making such a good move would be at least they’d have someone reliable and happy, yes admitted happiness when washing the shit out of old peoples clothes. I think it’s more that rhythmic folding of the linen. It lulls me. I am at peace.

Peace until I go upstairs to the linen closets and see the HAVOC those messy fucking aides have produced. I know they hear me muttering obscenities and death-threats and have the good sense not to come back in while I’m re-tidying up. Don’t think I haven’t thought about asking to view the tape of the surveillance cams. But I realise it might be taking it a bit far. Plus I know I couldn’t NOT pay them sloppy messy waddyathinkIamyerMOTHERS fucking bitches back.

I’m even becoming less pissy and picky at my arch nemesis dear OldLazyArsedHag Pottie. Mainly because I have been on the receiving end of worse. Worse as in HOH 420Pranceys mum Odelle. The less said about that the safer I’ll be. I mean she IS over eighty. It be like kicking yer own Granny in the guts and telling her yer an absolutely bloody useless twat, now get outta here!

The reason for Odelle coming out of retirement [she used to work there]…that SillyOldSlutLynn fell off a rolly stool a month or so back and did something to her wrist when the rest of her bulk landed on it. She’s off work and seeking compo. Then UnReliableJune’s latest drama is something to do with one of her kids, not sure exactly what it is, but she’s on some type of leave too.

Which all works into my fulltime spiel to the Administrator. Funny, I have never ever had to “sell” myself before. I feel like the spider and they’re the flies. Pottie’s the big fat annoying blowfly that won’t go away anytime soon, but I can work “around” her.

After all I have abilities and pot.

holds a mirror under my nose

2008-01-08T14:10:00.000-05:00

Okay…Yes…Good.

I AM still breathing.

It appears I lost November and December somewhere over here.

No Kids! Chouff doesn’t do any damage.

So.

Where was I?

Oh who cares where I was, lets talk about where I am!

I am currently in a state of…a state of…uhm. Loving and loathing. A state of loving and loathing everything and everyone around me.

I love my job but some days I loathe it.

Yeah, never thought I’d be the one saying that, especially about washing old peoples undies. I loathe it mainly because of the pay rate. Seven bucks an hour. WhatTheFuck is SEVEN bucks an hour?? I know I should be thankful that it’s not minimum wage. MotherFucker that owns God’s Waiting Room [the nursing home] is a millionaire, probably a multi one. Owns two service stations, a real estate office, storage sheds AND a oil company. And yes I know his tightarsedness IS the reason he is so wealthy. He’s still a motherfucker, and I doubt a pay increase would make me feel any different about him. Unless it was a substantial one. Then he may just be a cocksucker instead of a motherfucker.

I love my in-laws but some days I loathe them.

Especially when they only seem to do their laundry when I come home from work. Not like I haven’t been listening to a washer and dryer going non-stop part of the day. MotherFuckers have had all day to do it. Or more so, one of them has. Lazy little red-headed-step-sister-in-law bitch that she is. I don’t care how “special” you are, you should still be made to do shit. And really I wouldn’t class her as being in the high percentile band of retardism. Far from it. Funny, I typed that and then the motherfucking dryer is started up…and now there goes the washer starting…I bet it’s my mom-in-laws doing.

Just like it’s her “protections” that her youngest daughter [the red-headed one] has no fucking inclination and [sometimes] no bloody clue how to do stuff. I’m betting, now that my mom-in-law is older and not in the best of health she is regretting those doings. Yes, the LittleFatBastid and I do most of the household running, mainly so my mom-in-law doesn’t have too. With a nearly-thirty-year-old non-working daughter in the house she shouldn’t bloody need too. That’s bullshit that is. I do truly believe she will miss our arses when we’re gone. She’ll be back to doing everything and I mean ev-ver-reething.

It’s only been in the past year or so that she no longer washes Claude my father-in-laws hair, not because the hair washing was a loving gesture but because he didn’t know how to do so properly. I fucking kid you not. I do wish she would have carried on his dental hygiene tho. Some days I dunno if the food falling out of his mouth is this meals or one from last week. I tell ya, if yer enjoying yer meal, yer don’t look across at Claude eating his. HaHa. The man doesn’t know how to work plastic food storage bags, he just rips a hole in them. Never mind the big yellow and red stripes denoting the fact that the open and reseal is HERE!!

I love the people around here, but some days I loathe them.

Mainly because they’re pretty stupid. Normally I adore stupid people, that’s because usually I am in a tops mood and they are there and they amuse me. But when you cross stupid with devout it’s a whole different kettle of jesus fish. Every now and again 420 Prancey will blurt out it being the debils work when discussing “current events”, the last piece of his efforts concerned the latest imports from China. Yes, occasionally they’ll deviate from the usual lunchtime talk of “what ya eating” or about the weather.

Usually her religious spiel is said in wonky-eyed-Henry‘s direction, who is a definite representative of “someone’s” sense of humour. Be it Gods, The Devils or Bubbha’s. Personally, I lean towards The God of all Hillbillies~Bubbha. I think that would be just his style yer know. Yes, I realise it’s kinda wrong to poke fun at the more unfortunates. But shit. They’re THERE. Now I know what they mean when they say America is the land of plenty. PLENTY of what I never knew. Til Now. HaHa. Okay I can see some may read that and be pursing their mouth and arse cheeks tight.

Just the other week [ in my mind] I was furiously beating him about the head and body with the Birds and Blooms issue he was “look at this!…Look At That”…ing at all of us clustered around the table. I like a person who can read something without having to include everyone else’s attention into it. Yes, just read quietly to yourself, I don’t even mind if yer lips move while you are doing so thankyouverymuch. Unless it’s really good, then you may share. It never is with Henry.

Thankfully in some rotations I only see him one or two days in the week.

Piss Off I have the LIFE NOW!!

2007-10-19T15:29:00.000-04:00

So it appears it’s been over a month or so [WTF a whole bloody mooonth???] since I last blogged here. I just bet youse people missed me heaps huh!! But until me chouff kicks in and I feel like weaving a web of words re: what’s been going on with me…which has been lots and LOTS…for you nosey buggers.

~~I will keep it short and concise.~~

My vagina and I kicked over another year. Thankfully I wasn’t rostered to work that day, or else the LittleFatBastid might have missed me taking him out for the day and then buying him a meal. Yes, that’s right I paid for my birthday. Gotta love the little fat fuckers audacity hey. I can’t waaait til it’s his day of birth to see where he takes me. Better be worth his being born. HaHa.

I starred in a production of The Best Little Nursing Home in ~~Texas~~ Kentucky. I’m just hoping my ad-libbing and re-acting to the Judges questions didn’t make it to the promotional film shot. I’ve confused you now have I? Okay I need to back up a step.

Before my laundry skills were employed down at God’s Waiting Room they had entered and won for Best Nursing Home in the District. Now they’re going for the State. As seems to be the way with some people and their incessant need for the “titles” of being THE Best, Biggest, Baddest, godliest etc; they went all out to secure the bragging rights in the nursing home business.

Upon the day of Judgement, I had to laugh when I saw what came out of the various store-rooms to help dress up the place. Pictures suddenly sprang from the walls, vases of flowers were suddenly in bloom, coats of paint were applied. Even our old metal chairs in the staff room had white slip covers placed over them…Incidentally, we so better get a fucking jacket if we win State. Mind you, they’re still waiting to receive the tee-shirt for District. I bet that bloody owner is holding onto the tee’s just so he can save a few bob and add “Winner of State” to them, if indeed they do win it. Yeah Mate, I got yer bloody number.

I kinda stopped laughing when the sixty-one fucking beds consisting of top and bottom sheets, pillow-cases, bed pads and blankets NOT to mention all the residents own quilts were changed and given to the Lone Laundresser [that was me BTW] by the over-supply of CNA’s…usually stands for certified nursing aides but this day I thought they were more right proper cunt nazi arseholes but I digress. Some of us were busy as all fuck. And some of us had time to stand around looking pretty. I was in the former category.

But back to the promotional video, it’s to be aired at the Awards night next month. And that’s where the attendees will see some Aussie piece placing her neatly [it ALWAYS is] folded linen onto the storage cart. If I knew I was going to appear on film I would have attended NIDA’s Dramatic Institute of Performing Arts and practiced my smiling grin instead of having to use my snarly one.

Ha! I’m in the short film business. No. No autographs “freely” given.

“Hello, is LittleFatBastid there?”

2007-09-12T11:48:00.000-04:00

Was the first thing I heard this morning, well second really, the phone ringing was the first thing. It was ThePreachers son OhDanielMyBrother wanting him to come out and ~~play~~ work. That’s the last I saw of my husband. I went to the loo for my morning poo [I am nothing but regular] and when I exited he was *le poouff*, gone.

What unexpected good fortune.

Haha it’s times like these that keep me sane here. Although I did say to myself…you watch that fucking UncleRussell turn up here. Already I have my door locked, ready to leap down beside my bed at the first syllable of his top of the stairs “Yer THERE?” yell.

If forced to do the above I will then *hope* I don’t sneeze or cough.

There is a chance of that as I have managed to pick up the lergy from the FatBastidOne. Not as bad as he had it, but annoying enough. Luckily, I have a sickly sister-in-law that rang in a script for antibiotics, which I am on day four of.

*takes pill now*

I am proud to say I have only surprise snotted myself once. No witnesses to it either, even better. I dunno about you, but to me that would have to be one of the most embarrassing things to do with a cold, it’s up there with the surprise cough that shoots a wad of the brown jelly outta yer mouth.

Although you do score ten points if it lands on someone you aren’t fond of.

Speaking of being not fond of. I’m not fond of this freaking internet provider, every time I see the talking ad for them I call the spokesman a bastardcocksucker. Yes it makes me feel somewhat better.

Back at work tomorrow, just in time for “Appreciation Day” for housekeepers and laundry people of the world. WTF??. Haha that cracks me up. I guess us housekeepers/laundresses are people TOO, dammit! Apparently there’s a little party between 2.30 and 3.30 tomorrow…whoohoo a whole hour. Wonder if I’ll get paid for it, as I finish at 2.30.

I feel I’m too new to get out of it [yes I tried already…hahaha] besides, sometimes I kinda like sitting back and watching my fellow co-workers, especially at partaay time. Arhaaha *cackle, snort* thinking about them partying. With the prim lipped Kerry, the wonky-eyed-not-quite-right Henry, 420 Prancey, cartoonish Pottie, AdorableDitzJune, LooseVaginalLippedLynn, my mother-in-law and me.

Anybody would think it was a RetardsAnonymous meeting with me as their leader.

Haha wonder if I could wander off and have a chouff first.

Seems so much has happened, yet not really.

2007-09-05T15:29:00.000-04:00

I’ve started working. Well, really I’ve started being paid for doing it. For the princely sum of seven buckeroonies an hour I get to shake the farts and other various liquidy matters, that we won’t go into just yet, outta old peoples laundry.

Yaaay ME!

Went in for an interview with the HOH Prancy, Thursday gone. After answering a list of questions; watching nearly two hours of health and hygiene related videos; reading, filling out and signing a stack of paperwork; introductions to a fuckload of the other staff working [yeah like I’d remember many of them]; verbal fire-drill with the maintenance man, I started “work” there and then. Basically just familiarising myself with the homes layout via one of the housekeepers.

Friday, I went in to be specifically trained in the laundry department, only the trainer didn’t turn up. Haha. Yep. She had quit that morning. And No not because she heard she was to be training moi in the art of LaundryBitchness. Instead, my training consisted of being periodically assaulted with instructions by the rather high-strung Prancy, every hour or so. She kept apologising for the unusual hecticness of the day [it was an absolute madhouse] and in the next breath hoping I’d still come back the next day.

Made me laugh. Takes a bit more than that to scare me off. But I guess she had reason for the repeated statement as two of her staff had resigned in the previous week. With another one [LynWithTheLooseVaginalLips, my neighbour] working out her two week notice. My weekend was spent working alongside the school senior Steph [lovely girl] and Monday with the AdorableDitzJune.

Tomorrow is my first rostered day by myself. I’m looking forward to it. What I am not exactly looking forward to is knowing that what I thought was dried snot on one of the old guys hankies is not actually mucous but the results of his daily wanking sessions. Yes, somebody needs to buy that man a box of tissues, better still, throwaway hand wipes.

Arhaaha. Sunday was the last time I’ll shake hands with that old dude. Now, I just have to pinpoint the other residents known to masturbate. Apparently there’s a few.

I did have the pleasure of having my left arse cheek cupped firmly at first, then pressure squeezed by an elderly hand. One of the aides intentionally drove her up close enough behind me in one of the wheelchair hallway traffic jams. By the time the hand had clawed it’s way to the back of my scrub top I needed the help of two aides to be released from her clenched fist.

Maybe I should get her and TheWanker together. Nothing would easily escape that grip.

MutterBitchandMoan.

2007-08-22T15:45:00.000-04:00

Avert yer eyes now I’m about to get slightly CatWeaselly.

Motherfucker. If I hear one more of them whining about being alone and bored, that’s why they came out to visit. I’m gunna be tempted to put my bad foot up their arse. It’s that “being bored” that gets me the most. When I’m alone I am never bored. Too rarely am I alone.

The UncleRussell is talking about dropping in later. We just saw him yesterday. He arrived in time for our dinner. I’m in my phase of tired of looking at him let alone jacked off at having to entertain/listen to him as he is eating my porkfuckingchop.

One can only take so much conversation about the SAME fucking topics that have taken place in previous visits. The one’s where he is all pussifired up, probably grind my teeth the most. It’s like he has to drop the “pussy” innuendoes and he’s not being completely rude with it. More school-boyish. Like haha pussy, pussy, pussy. I just ignore him, alas others seated around me feel they have to force a laugh for his comfort. Which only encourages him even more.

Truly, some days I sit there wondering if they can ever hear the screams that are reverberating around in my head. I’m sure they see my fists scrunch as my fingernails dig into my palms.

It’s not like I can completely ignore his visits or really anyone’s as they’ll clomp down the twelve steps into the HellandTarnation room to visit me if I don‘t answer when they yell down the stairs. I’m like fuck me dead there are four other people up there, drifting off to go do their own thing. Why can’t I. I mean, he isn’t MY Uncle. Don’t get me wrong. I like UncleRussell. In small doses and with at least a week in between his visits. I like him plenty.

People often ask if “I like it here”…six times out of ten I am tempted to ask if they mean like in the right now of my personal existence or just here in Kentucky generally.

Without FUCKING fail. I settle into doing something and someone “drops” in.

Fuck, Fuck, FAAARK.

Like just then, the red-headed-step-sister-in-law plonked on my bed as I was getting into my blog. A blog that I have no interest in any of THEM finding. It’s not like I can pleasantly say Fuck Off Now Please, she’s in the not completely right basket so it would hurt her feelings.

Instead, I wait her out only to then find I’ve been booted off the freaking internet.

Time for a smoke.

Well what do you know??

2007-08-13T16:09:00.000-04:00

The BitchSlappingSite is back up and running. What a pleasant surprise. When I click through to the “list” of waitee’s, scrolling down, seeing a few blogs that I read on the waiting list…then *blink, blink*…ut oh to find my blog on the list…haha I reaally don’t remember submitting it. I mean for a second time. I really only like smacks so much yerknow. Was more than happy with my four from before. All that “let sleeping dogs, lie” rule I have. Haha…not quite right analogy.

Maybe that’s one of the changes…we can submit others blogs? Whoa *crack* that could be fun.

Anyway. They’re back. Go play with them.

But before you do. Guess what?

I found MY hairdresser. Yes. Ha. Hopefully she won’t die or nothing. I walked out of the salon with nary a 80’s BigHair in sight. Lucky for her. I did express my wish not to. I mean it can get slightly concerning seeing all these Dallas and Dynasty styles still floating by. I made it a mission to ask them who/where their hairdresser was, to make sure I never booked an appointment there with them. So yes, very happy with Judi’s Attitude in Hair, particularly Judi.

Soon as I heard her on the phone, more so, soon as I *knew* she understood me on the phone, I liked her. Didn’t hurt that she called me sweetie a few times, neither. Haha. After I got home and checked out my hair, I liked her LOTS more. So rang her to tell her I loved it and would be back. She’s newer to the business area, only been here six months. I figure she’ll do fine in the area.

Other than re-killing my grey hairs.

I feel like I’m falling apart.

Not mentally haha never mentally but physically. After overdosing on the many episodes of “Snapped” I have even jokingly *narrow eyes* accused the LittleFatBastid one of slowly poisoning me. I guess one can only take so many “okay time to Shut-Right-Up now, yer starting to annoy me” before one starts to plot and plan another’s demise.

My left ankle is the size of a clubfoot. First of, it was painful, not now though. So I don’t know what to make of that. I continually stare at it, wondering what the fuck is going on there. I don’t remember twisting it. But now I have a fat ankle. I’m thankful it’s not the both of them as they are pretty ugly.

My left pinkie and ring finger are like they have no strength and hurts to scrunch them up into a fist. I told the LittleFatOne that no doubt that was caused from gripping the big tub of coffee when I made ALL the pots of it like I have the past few days...it’s not right to feel like yer just a CoffeeBitch in life.

My right side from waist down along the leg aches like a right bitch at night. But I have discovered the joys of stealing half a horse tablet pain-pill that belongs to my mother-in-law. Damn if I ever have to totally give up chouff I’m gunna get me some of them bastids. Within an hour or so after taking one, I sleep like ThePoodle…all grunts, farts and drools.

Is it because I’m finally getting older?

Yeah. Probably.

My favourite so far.

2007-07-28T15:15:00.000-04:00

Also the LittleFatBastid’s favourite but that’s because it holds lollies.

......

Thinking the BumCrack will be my “signature” on them.

What’s been going on with mah bad self?

2007-07-22T14:46:00.000-04:00

Uhmm. We have chooks now. Admittedly not how the LittleFatBastid had envisioned his chooks would look and live like exactly. But we have them regardless. Twelve of them…haha might call them the Apostle Chooks. Although I don’t think we’ll have 12 for long as about 5 of them are roosters. And Yay Banties. A rooster and two hens. Lovely fawn colour to them.

Went down to help The LFB’s aunt Inez and uncle Russell clear out a storage garage yesterday. Woo. We know how to partay hearty huh. We thought it was their stuff, turns out most of the junk in there belonged to their daughter/son-in-law/grand-daughter…that / there designates three people not just the one person…thought I better clarify that beings as I’m in Kinfucky.

The clearing out soon turned into a yard sale.

Funny when I had the thought “Damn. Look at me. Here I am sitting out in a recliner [ a very nice and comfy one fer $15] on the footpath in countrytown America.

I so badly chided myself for forgetting my camera. Again. Could have got bloody pictures to go along with this…

Old black dude with the biggest bottom lip that I have seen so far in my travels come cycling up asking if the yellow bike was really “for free?”. A ten minute conversation ensued between him, Russell and the LFB about how free it was, “You mean I can just take it?”. He eventually, happily walked off between his green bike and new yellow Shwinn bike knowing that he wouldn’t be accused of “stealun it”. Apparently he was from the “Not Quite Right Home” up around the corner…meaning about four blocks away. I wondered what they thought when he come in with an extra bike. They’re probably used to it. He seemed a bike enthusiast.

Saw this one dome shaped bald headed dude, in his drooping bib n braces come shuffling across the railway tracks…I instantly thought of where he was residing. When he saw the crowd of us sprawled along the street he kinda stopped and hesitated, shading his eyes, as if determining whether to keep coming over towards us. He must have decided we were okay as he kept on coming. The LittleFatOne says “Look baby that’s me in fifteen years” and it may could be. Haha.

The lady along with her old farmer husband and tractor driving hatted son bought a lovely old dresser and mirror for $20. She had the most amazingly gravely voice I have ever heard on a four foot nothing woman. I second looked just to reassure myself she had breasts. Yeah I know that doesn’t mean nothing. But by the look of her husband he would have no truck with none of that.

The pot bellied woman in the white tank top and cut off shorts with four kids, one older girl and two girls in closer age, the youngest a boy Chad. I know his name because she was forever chiding him about touchun stuff. She actually started warning him when they were getting out of their truck. “Don’t you be touchun and breakun stuff when we get over there Chad” walked off with three kiddies videos tucked under their arms.

Had to suppress a small cackle at the capri jean shorted lady with the tummy who paid ten bucks for the AbMachineBed. Not at her buying it, but the sight of her laid out on it trying it out. I thought surely she would stop stretching when she felt the sun on her newly exposed white belly. Nope. More of it got in my eyes.

It’s kinda weird to be anywhere and think if I don’t open my mouth they think I’m one of them.

Having a FIGJAM! moment.

2007-07-08T13:25:00.000-04:00

That's ahh Fuck! I’m Good Just Ask Me moment.

The pessimist in me was not expecting much out of PissPotPat at the July 4th Family Spectakulah. Usually the man is just downright rude and pretty much fucking insufferable. So what a pleasant I say, I say, a pleeaasant surprise that the dude was actually acting like a genuwhine human bean. I quite enjoyed his company. Amazing what moderating one’s drinks can do for some people. A vast improvement. All the family agreed. After they got over their gobsmack of it all.

I must say I was in fine form. Quite the ChattyCathy was I. The LittleFatBastids five foot nothing Aunt Inez told me to “just give me a huggh” and when I did she says “I just love yew to death”. Yes, she too is only human. Ha. I rock.

I was a tad disappointed though. We had five Hillbillie men down the hill, a coupla hundred dollars worth of fireworks and not one mishap was to be had. We’re not counting the one that fell over and shot it’s flaming ball at the soon to be chookhouse. No damage incurred. Apparently last year it was like a scene out of StarWars. Unintentionally the LittleFatBastid and his Dad Claude had a light sabre battle. A firework fell over and had shot at Claude, he thought the FatBastidOne did it on purpose so the next one he lit up he pointed it in the BastidOne’s direction. Yeah I have mentioned Ol’ Claude ain’t wrapt too tight eh.

In between my LaundryandGoodHouseKeepingBitch role and amusing the extended family, I’ve been alternating between gardening and gourd painting. Now, I dunno about you, but there are times I just amaze myself at just how bloody clever I am. Usually I’m used to my greatness yerknow. HaHa. In the process of painting up a Lolly Jar disguised as a FatLadyBather. Inez supplied me with the gourds and my brain hasn’t stopped buzzing with ideas since.

Seeee, that’s what the good old smoko does fer me. I’ve got ideas coming out of my arsehole.

I am too good.

Reason #202 why I married the LittleFatBastid.

2007-06-29T14:05:00.000-04:00

He likes it when I’m mean to him.

Arhaaha.

Yesterday we were having our coffee out on the front porch. I threw my cold dregs over the railing in preparation of getting a hot one. The FatOne says something, to which I threaten him that the next time I’ll throw me dregs in his face instead of over the railing…like this!

I mock throw my cup at him when shit I still had some coffee left in it.

There he sat with cold coffee dripping from one eyebrow, pooling into his right eye socket.

Giggling.

Smootch My Snootch # 3...[I think]

2007-06-20T14:31:00.000-04:00

Because I would haaate to have anyONE saay I was slipping in the Smootch My Snootch department I give you the following…[psst good to read you back Lady!]

To the stupid woman at the checkout who allowed her spawn to ding her in the head with a box of poptarts when she said he couldn’t have one. Not like he was walking out of the store with a brand new bicycle…then again it was like that. He was actually walking out of the store with a brand new bicycle. Red it was.

Which would have been the colour of my fucking face once I got dealing with THAT little ungrateful fuck. In my bloody daaay that woulda earned me an arsebeating to my BadGrannies State and back.

What did the Mom do, you ask?

I know some of yers did…others KNOW what she fuckingwell did.

AbSOOlutely bloody nothun.

I understand him not getting the beating…only because of the reportage of it and all that dealing with the CSI stuff, oh hang on, no I mean CPS stuff. But *insert redneck voice* Boiy I woulda thrown it under the next passing Chevy truck, or at least taken it back in and got my money back.It being the bike not the brat.

That stupid cow gets to pucker up and Smootch a big fat one on the magnificent all over, rather large black woman wearing the canary yellow strapless terry-towelling sundress at the Chinese Buffet place in Newport…[where we went for our 5th year anniversary dinner yesterday]...yes HER Snootch.

Yeah Smootch it StupidArse Mother of the Universe. You are bestowing on the rest of us a really really great gift. Another spoilt, fucked up human.

Yes. YaaaY to You!

Reason #631 why I married the LittleFatBastid.

2007-06-15T13:30:00.000-04:00

I just heard a thud from outside.

The LittleFatOne came into TheHellandTarnationRoom giggling and said “I just fell”.

Oh lookout I’m choking on my spit I’m laughing so hard.