Hidden Mahala

Curing Carpet Herpes and Other Provocative Subjects

2012-01-29T12:56:00.000-05:00

There was a hard frost covering the holler this morning. The yard is crunchy, the puddles are frozen and it's colder than penguin snot.

It's been AGES since I've posted and I've got so many things to tell ya'll, each topic really deserving a post of it's own, but if I did that, we'd never get caught up. So get comfy, go pee if you gotta, fix yourself a cup o' joe and prepare thyself.

We'll start with the critters. Sammy, the Boston Baked Beagle woke up the other morning with one ear swelled up like it had been inflated. And it was his good ear. The Amazon took him to the vet, who called it a hematoma, which I'm pretty sure is the same thing we used to call a "pump knot." They've delayed surgery until we get his funky skin condition back under control, so he's back on the antibiotics and steroids. In a few days he'll be stomping around the house like Ahhnold demanding his kibble.

Ayla (The Great Huskinese or Pyrusky, if you prefer) and I have been taking long walks (almost) every night after work. During this time I've decided that Caesar Milan is full of shinola, it doesn't matter if my dog wants to walk in front of me (both our ample booties don't really fit side by side on the sidewalk anyway) as long as she's not pulling me and I don't need to be an asshole to my dog to teach her how to walk correctly on a leash.

We are both much happier this way. She walks along, wagging her tail, sniffing the ground and greeting dogs, humans and chickens along the way. If you're doing what the "experts" tell you to do, but your gut tells you it's not right, follow your gut. Check out this guy for a different perspective.

Kitty Kitty Two by Four is less evil than she used to be and even demands the occasional loving cuddles. It's a miracle, although she still gets pleasure from holding on to Ayla's tail while she's dragged through the house and giving Yoda the occasional smack on the head.

Yoda is the same bossy little old man who acts like he's terminally starved for attention.

Lola the Bunny is completely housebroken and has the run of the RV when I'm home. She'll now hop up on the couch and sit beside you for head scritches and can smell a banana from the other end of the caravan. She's still really too young to get much fruit, but I give her a bite from time to time. Her favorite thing is parsley and she'll be your best friend FOREVER if you give her a handful. Other than trying to steal whatever I'm working on (I think she has clepto tendencies) she pretty much just chills, with the occasional running/hopping/sliding on wood floors fit.

Speaking of the girl cave, most of ya'll will remember the bad case of carpet herpes (check it out here if you missed it.) It's currently covered with a bedspread, I wanted to get some more carpet eventually, but sheesh, who's got time? Anywho, I found some fabric paint online, made for upholstery, that can be used on carpet.

HOLY CRAPBALLS BATMAN!!!

I actually got a little girly moist with excitement when I realized I could PAINT THE HERPES CARPET. (And yes, I do realize I've been manless for just a wee bit too long.) It's $20 a can, but I don't have much area to cover. I can use it on the clusterfucked front step area too.

You know you're intrigued. Admit it.

I've been thinking about moving Lola's area to the shower. It's not big enough to use for much else, other than maybe to bury corpses in an upright position. And then there's that no running water thing. It's currently where I put my dirty laundry, which can be moved to the bathroom, which I don't use because asshole Cousin H never hooked up the sewer thingie AND there's no heat in there anyway. If I moved her, I'd put her crate inside the shower, remove the door, which would let more light in from the skylight, then put a pet gate on this end of the kitchen. She'd have way more room to run around when I'm not here (the whole kitchen, hallway area,) she'd still have complete run of the place when I'm home and she wouldn't be attacking my toes when I try to run the sewing machine.

She's not a fan of my fancy shmancy new Brother. It was the cheapest one they had at Wallyworld, but I still think it's awesometastic.

I finally finished the pillows for the plant manager yesterday. They're just plain-jane muslin pillows with brown covers, but I'm still happy with how they turned out. It was great practice with the new machine. Now I've got time to make more earrings. Supplies arrived from Turkey last week, but between Ma, Sammy, Bossholio being out for the past week and six pillows, I've not even had time to open them.

Ma has been riding the crazy train pretty hard lately. That's all I'm going to say on the subject, other than I never thought I'd see the day when I had to threaten my own mother to get her to put on some damn pants.

Oh yeah. And I've discovered Pinterest. That's like.. a few hundred more hours of my life in front of the computer. You can follow me here if you'd like.

Anywho...

Everything is a mess. Dishes, fabric scraps, bunny hay, blankets tossed around, sewing supplies spread out on the bed. I'd better get to it. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Of Garcia, Barney and Asylum Chronicles

2012-01-14T10:27:00.001-05:00

Lawd have mercy. It's colder than yeti tits up in this rv. Thank goodness for five dolla' fuzzy leopard print pj bottoms.

I left work early yesterday and went to Not-So-Big-City to get my new glasses. They look nice, if I do say so myself and are somewhat less "poor ho trailer trash" and slightly more "present day nerdified with a touch of designer elegance, like if Garcia from Criminal Minds had to dress slightly more business than casual."

More importantly, I can see. Well.. most of the time. As long as I don't make any sudden moves. It's my first bi-focals. The doc's sage advice? "Don't look down." I probably shouldn't have worn them straight out to the fabric store and then to Wallyworld for groceries. By the time I got to the checkout, I'd gotten myself so confused about which half to look through when, my head was bobbing and weaving like drunken prize fighter.

But anywho...

Things at The Asylum have been.. interesting. I think I've pissed everyone off at least once in the past week. In an effort to keep myself from getting so upset over piddly chit, I've been taking a very small dose of clonazepam in the mornings. My noggin doc had suggested it as a pre-emptive measure when Bossholio would come back from his mandatory weeks off with a chip on his shoulder. Amazing how much work you can get done when you reach a chemically induced state of the notgivashits.

We have issues getting our product out the door on time. As the sole sales force (I don't count Bossholio) it makes my job.. well.. it makes it suck big red ones.. when customers call to get tracking info for their order and I have to tell them it's not going to ship for another week. Problem is, I usually don't know it's not going on time until they call and ask about it. I've been working diligently since the beginning of the year to make sure that doesn't happen anymore.

I now have a desk calendar with all the orders with their scheduled ship dates proudly displayed. Thelma calls it the headache calendar because she says I'm getting on her nerves. I call and pester the effin' crap out of everyone involved in getting stuff out the door on a daily basis. I'm determined to nip this whole "it's not my job" attitude that has spread like the plague throughout the plant, right in the bud.

Of course, to do this, I have to take on crap that totally isn't my job, but what the hell.

I know they don't like it because whenever we're discussing why this and that didn't go as scheduled and the GM walks by, Thelma gets all pissy and says, "She's trying to be efficient, keep us all on our toes, giving me a headache!"

It also means I'm in a constant pissing contest with the shipping guy, but that's sorta fun.. for me anyway.

Meanwhile, back in the girl cave...

I've got sewing supplies lying all over. The new PM wants me to make six pillows for her. Apparently her basement is the designated flop house for all the kids from the high school and she likes them to be comfy. I'm mostly using fabric I already have, but I had to buy two super sized bags of poly-fill and some muslin, which is what I was doing at the fabric store. I'm also going to try to make myself a new purse, so I needed some fabric stiffy stuff and buttons. If it comes out like I'm thinking, I might offer them for sale in my shop.

I've got a big order to fill (I sold a rug, earrings and nail oil!) and finish the purple rug I'm working on. There are also three books lying here that I need to get listed. They're not gonna sell sitting on the table.

The Amazon has exciting news at work. She's moving on up (she gets all pissed off when I call her Weezy, but I think it's cute) and will soon be working less vampire-like hours and will be off on weekends.

Anywho..

I reckon I'd better get my butt in gear. I hope ya'll have a great weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

P.S. Take it from me, do NOT do an image search for "yeti tits". That is all.

Wisdom Comes From the Damnedest Places

2012-01-08T20:14:00.000-05:00

It's been a gray, dreary and extremely wet weekend in in Frog Pond Holler. The yard is squishy and gross, my clothes will probably take three days to dry on the line (even though they're on the porch and covered) and my visit to the eye doc on Friday was less than happy.

Oh I got some super designer frames, mostly 'cuz none of the ones covered 100% by our insurance would fit my fat head, but sixty bucks for a complete set of bifocals isn't bad. I guess. I'd never been to this doc before and while I really didn't need to know about his butt getting probed the last time he had a physical, I liked him okay. I almost got out of there without too much trauma, until after he hit my eyes with the drops, peered inside then sat back to explain the finer points of macular degeneration.

The good news is, we've caught it in the early stages and my eyesight is pretty good (for my age) to begin with. He told me to start taking Lutein daily to slow the progression.

The bad news? There's no cure.

I've been in the throws of a full fledged pity party for most of the weekend, just contemplating the possibility of ending up blind. Then, tonight, I recalled a quote from Winifred "Fred" Burkle from "Angel", who laid down some Texas wisdom when confronted with a returning vampire, Darla, who was preggers and did it way better than Twilight ever could:

"Can I say something about destiny? Screw destiny. If this evil thing comes, we'll fight it and we'll keep fighting it till we whoop it. Because destiny is just another word for inevitable. And nothing is inevitable as long as you stand up, look it in the eye and say, "You're evitable." (pauses) Well, you catch my drift."

I love Fred.

You just never know who I might quote. Maybe the Dalai Lama. Maybe Deepak Chopra. Or Winifred Burkle.

I feel like I've not gotten a damned thing done all weekend, but I've been kinda productive. I ordered some Jojoba oil because although Big City and surrounding areas are jam packed with hippified massage places, it's nearly impossible to find in the stores. Go figure. I also started a new rug, all purples and blues. I think it's going to be pretty.

I'm just tired I guess. And kinda lonely. Ya know how it is, when you get bad news is when you kinda wish you had a shoulder to cry on.

But no time for that. I gotta put on my big girl panties and get crackin'. Because nothing is inevitable.

Ya'll have a good week. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Mahala on Lowe's, Muslims and A Big Steaming Pile of WTF?

2012-01-06T21:02:00.000-05:00

Most of ya'll will remember when I first moved in to the girl cave. It was no secret that I maxed out my Lowe's card buying supplies to make my new-used.. hell.. vintage.. RV livable. (That's right, I'm one of those scary assed hillbillies that lives in a recreational vehicle and peddles fertilizer on the innerwebs. Rumor is that I'm eat up with Melungeon too, that's hillbillies with mysterious Middle Eastern blood. Put that in your hookah and smoke it. And hide your valuables.)

I loved Lowes. When night time temps in the holler dipped down into the nippie icicle range, I headed straight for my favorite home improvement store. I'd been through two little heaters that just weren't cutting it. Right here on this very blog I sang the praises of the sales lady who kindly helped me find the right model, within my price range, then whispered that if I came back in a few days (on Black Friday) I could get it for half price.

I damned near hug tackled the poor woman right there by the gas logs.

But then? Somewhere on the almighty internet, probably on Twitter but I wouldn't swear to it, I clicked a link that took me to an article about how Lowe's had pulled it's advertising from the TLC show "All-American Muslim" after bowing to pressure from an email campaign spawned by the Florida Family Association.

Say what?

Now I'll admit, I've only watched the show in question a few times. It's okay, but "reality" shows are usually anything but and I'm kinda over the whole genre. But, that's not the point. What crawled up my ass sideways about the whole thing was that Lowe's made a huge business decision based on the religious beliefs of a group of crackpots down in Gator country.

I took it upon myself to do a little checking into the FFA. Here is an actual list of "causes" from their actual website, where you can click a link and send a FORM EMAIL, just adding your name and address:

I will remember Mars and Wrigley’s advertising support for this irresponsible program. (Because apparently Mars and Wrigley will make your kid gay)

Please do not support this propaganda. (Apparently TLC airing a show about Americans who happen to be Muslim is offensive.)

Amerimar Enterprise should be ashamed for showing Islamic extremists favor over American traditionalists. (This one is because the FFA got it's panties in a wad when an Islamic group protested their holding a two day event promoting the "Stop the Islamization of America" and it got cancelled. Oh wah. Cry me a river.)

AARP advocacy for LGBT political agenda is inappropriate and disrespectful. (More anti-LGBT bullcrap. Do you know how many Lesbians work at just our local Lowe's? I wonder how they feel about their employer making business decisions based on the rantings of this hate group?)

Marvel and Disney! Please don’t target our children with a gay Spider-Man super hero. ("Target our children?" Really?)

A public appeal for Governor Rick Scott to direct FDLE or appoint a special prosecutor to investigate the death of Fatimah Abdallah (I don't really understand what they're getting at here, all I know is they're quoting Fox News.. so um.. yeah.)

The CAIR forced removal of Professor Barry Sommer and the course What Is Islam tramples upon the First Amendment rights of academia across America. (I love this: "Do you want CAIR dictating who is allowed to teach in American colleges and universities?" I don't want the FFA dictating anything. Not until they've had their meds.)

Yes I will pray for the court to rule in favor of the Oklahoma amendment (Oh I think we all need to pray more. But do I want the FFA telling me what to pray for? I wouldn't even trust them to order my Happy Meal at the drive-thru)

Shell Oil is the only major oil company that allows independent retailers to sell smut magazines (OH NO NOT SMUT!!!!! Now they're anti-bewbies. God loves bewbies. He made them)

Campbell Soup sponsorship of Islamic conference (Those chubby cheeked Campbell kids are terrorists. Clearly)

Circle K Stores is the Largest Convenience Store Chain In America that sells pornography. (Circle K is the only chain that hasn't buckled to their pressure. I say ALL HAIL THE CIRCLE K!!!)

Allowing thousands of families and children to unknowingly be forced to experience Gay Pride Day at Disney is wrong (Lord have mercy. "Unknowingly forced." I bet they're fine with prepubescent teens running around in their booty shorts, licking each others tonsils on Magic Mountain.)

Keep in mind, it's not just that they provide email addresses to send your rants to, they have the whole email already written. You just add your name and hit send. And ya know what? That's their right.. I suppose. But Lowe's received these emails and acted on them. THAT's what I can't believe.

Twitter blew up with anti Lowe's tweets. Their Facebook page turned into a huge anti Muslim, anti Floridian, anti Christian, pro shotgun freeforall. Lowe's issued a half-assed backhanded apology, that really wasn't. It's ridiculous.

"All-American Muslims" isn't about immigrants making a new home in the states. It's about families. Of AMERICANS. Born here, where we proudly exercise our freedoms, one of which is freedom of religion.

Yes, there are Islam extremists, but I think this proves that there are Christian extremists too. And I'm sorry but, I take offence at their even calling themselves Christian. Seriously. What would Jesus do? He'd spank their whiney little asses with a big wooden paddle and tell them to stop being a bunch of childish little haters and learn to play right.

I'm seriously pissed off at Lowe's. My first order of business when I get my tax refund this year, is to pay off my credit card and cut it up.

Will I ever shop there again? Well, I never say never. I will promise you though, that I will shop at locally owned businesses when at all possible or I will drive an hour out of my way to the Home Depot.

I'm glad I got that out of my system.

Ya'll have a great one. We'll talk again soon

Later Taters!

(Comments welcome, let me have it!)

Update: This article states Lowe's denies pressure from the FFA caused them to pull ads.
http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/12/21/idUS366369141220111221

More Lola, Because You Asked For It

2012-01-03T19:07:00.000-05:00

Because I'm taking dorktastic to phenomenal new levels.

Mean People Suck. Ice Cream Does Not.

2011-12-27T20:47:00.000-05:00

So today at The Asylum, the GM made some insensitive remarks that pushed me over the emotional edge and made me do the ugly girl cry.

People are assholes.

His exact comments aren't really important, I don't want to open up a big assed Sam's Club sized can o' worms, but let's just say.. he's familiar with my family situation, my financial embarrassments and living arrangements and while it's okay for ME to joke around about it, it is NOT okay for his skanky old man ass to make me the topic of his stupid jokes. Especially when I recently discovered that I'd been the joke of the day during the manager's meeting over at the other plant just a couple of weeks ago.

I'll be honest. Christmas is hard, but this year, I handled it surprisingly well. I was proud of myself. Then today, after several hours of Bossholio acting like a troll that had just slithered out from under his bridge, I wasn't really in the mood for the GM's mouth.

I bawled all the way home. Then? I go inside to tell Ma that I have to run to the store (Lola was out of bedding) and she tells me to call my Trashy Big Boobed Cousin with the Lazy Eye to see if her youngin had made it home because she'd seen her up on the mountain and she needed a ride.

I'm pretty certain Ma hadn't been out of the house, much less up on the mountain.. driving.

I told her I'd be back later. I got back out to the truck, dug around in my bag and found my "omg I'm losing my shit" pills and swallowed one. By the time I got to the next town, I'd gone from ugly girl cry to blaring AC/DC and singing at the top of my lungs. I stopped at the By Pass Dollar store, bought myself some clearance rack fuzzy leopard print pj bottoms, stopped to give a lady a jump in the grocery store lot, got some pizza and a salad for dinner and came home.

After I got Ma and the dogs fed, I loaded the dishwasher, came back to the girl cave, put on my fuzzy pj bottoms and pigged out on sugar free chocolate ice cream.

My head hurts. I've got shit I need to be doing, but I'm not doing it. Not tonight.

Sometimes people suck.

Later Taters.

It's a Rice Crispies Kinda Day

2011-12-23T13:46:00.001-05:00

It's kinda gray and dreary in the holler today, but I'm on day 2 of my mini Christmas vacation from The Asylum, so it's all unicorns and dandelions in my little world.

Don't hate me because I'm delusional.

I made a rag pickin' run to Big City yesterday to stock up on books. I ~~forced~~ invited The Amazon to go with me. She was both impressed and disturbed. I came away with a new book stash for my Etsy shop, ranging from the late 1800's to the 1970's:

I love the finding, the selling and the shipping. I dread the photographing, describing and listing. It's just time consuming. But anywho... I'm excited.

I also picked up a cute little spice rack for housing my nail oil supplies, three ginormous spools of decorative thread, a couple of pillows T.A. eyed and this:

I don't know what it's original purpose was, but I've been using a flimsy, disposable, aluminum lasagna pan with holes poked in it with a crochet hook to sift bunny poop to separate it from hay and bedding, resulting in the occasional spillage of ickiness and excessive sweeping of the girl cave. Imagine my GLEE when I found this.. THING.. with perfect BUNNY POOP SIZED HOLES!!!!

Merry Christmas to me.

Why am I sifting rabbit poop you ask? Haven't you heard that I'm selling bunny baked plant fertilizer on the innerwebs? They don't call me the sales ninja for nuthin' ya know.

I rearranged things a little around the cave this morning, wrapped up the last of the pressies and tried in vain to roll T.A. out of bed. I'm not planning to do much else today, yesterday's shopping trip kinda kicked my ass. I was doing the snap*crackle*pop when I got home last night. I'm thinking about using up some of my sizable fabric stash to make some kinda thingie to put around the bottom of Lola's cage, seeing how hay isn't just for eating, sleeping on and peeing in. Apparently it's also for tossing around with wild abandon in an expression of excessive bunny joy and happiness.

Ya'll have a Merry, Happy, Holiday and Everyday.

We'll talk again soon!

Later Taters!

Shameless Christmas Greetings

2011-12-21T11:51:00.001-05:00

Okay, I know I've gotten a little link happy with the YouTube videos lately, but I saw this on the bewb tube last night and had to share it. Consider it my Christmas card to all ya'll.

I love Shameless. It makes me feel just a little less trailer trashy.

Zombies and Russians and Crocs.. Oh My!

2011-12-20T16:19:00.001-05:00

Last night, The Amazon took me out to Big City for special birthday treat. We got all dolled up like city folks and had a grand old time seeing this:

And although T.A. was rocking some hooker style zombie pumps and I was hiding my Crocs under my long Stevie Nicks-esque skirt, I still felt kinda high fallootin'.

Yes, these are the actual shoes. My child, she ain't right.

Today I am tired and fighting an involuntary nap at my desk.

45 minutes to go.

Fingers crossed.

Later Taters!

Do Ravens Have Spittle? And Other Burning Questions

2011-12-11T15:17:00.001-05:00

The sun is shining bright down on Frog Pond Holler today. The air is crisp and smells of wood fires.. and the occasional whiff of Trail Burgers from the diner.

They make these grass burgers on whole grain (with flax seed! Shoot me now,) hard to choke down.

I got off track with all things food related sometime around Thanksgiving. There were donuts by the coffee pot at The Asylum, mystery cookies in a plain brown wrapper delivered by UPS, covered with teeny tiny chocolate chips and a Mrs. Smith's cream of coconut pie that I pecked at for days. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who ate any of it after Turkey Day.

I don't know how high my blood sugar got, I was conveniently out of strips, but it's a good bet that it wasn't healthy.

Don't worry, I'm back on the grass burgers, steel cut oats and apples dipped in peanut butter. Factor in that I pretty much live in an RV without running water or.. ya know.. facilities.. and I'm only one step away from dancing around a bonfire, naked, under a full moon with my lover, Wheatgerm Lovemonkey and making shampoo from bunny poop and raven spittle.

Do ravens have spittle?

Anywho....

Lola the bunny is growing like crazy. I slept on the couch in front of the heater last night, so I left her crate open. When I woke up this morning, she was sprawled out in the floor on a blanket I'd lost sometime during the night, chilling out right beside me.

I'd like to think it's cuz she loves me, but I'm pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that it was 23 degrees last night and she was trying to hog the heat. Speaking of the temperature, let me just add that the 4a.m. nature call has a whole new meaning when you have to get up and hoof it across the frozen mutha freakin' tundra.. in the DARK, a process I wouldn't have to endure if Cousin H weren't such a booty hole.

I haven't heard from him at all, by the way. He can still bite me.

Back at The Asylum, it's been crazy busy. The new plant manager's true colors have slowly shown themselves. Everyone is "darlin'" and "hunneee." She says "Thank yewwwwwwwwwww" and when I leave for the evening she's all "Later guuuuuurl." She also likes to play two halves against the middle, goes behind closed doors with the pervert general manager for an hour every day when he comes in (that never happened when the plant manager was male) and goes on and on about food and calories and being fat (a mild breeze would prolly carry her away.) To sum it up, everything that comes out of her mouth is about three fourths full of caca.

Just my opinion.

I made a huge haul at the rag pickin' last weekend. I found two antique books I've listed on Etsy, plus a PILE of sheets for rugs AND some thermal back drapes for the girl cave bedroom. Not a bad haul. I've been looking for things I can list under the "vintage" category on Etsy to kinda offset the amount of time I put in to the rugs. It's sort of sad that I'm able to find leather bound books in near perfect condition, from 1919, just tossed in the bottom of a giant bin along side other assorted unwanted things.

Oh my damn. I just got an email. Seriously. JUST NOW. I sold one of the books. I may be on to something!

For now, I guess I'd better go do a small load of laundry.. or my options for office attire tomorrow will be "none" or "stinky."

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

t

And I Still Know Every Word

2011-12-01T15:26:00.001-05:00

Back in 1974, this song was performed atop the picnic tables on the playground at Arrowood Academy in Norfolk, Virginia by Laura Allen, Mary Lamm, Joe Don Strickland, Michael Jackson (not THAT one,) myself and Lord only knows who else.

Welcome to my earworm.

Sister Wives Made Me Cry and How I Spent My Thanksgiving Vacation

2011-11-29T09:30:00.001-05:00

It's killing me to go to work after being off for a week. I'm starting to think a sugar daddy might not be such a bad idea. One that's gone all week, driving a truck or working on the railroad or something, out of my hair.. most of the time.

You can see why I can kinda understand the whole sister wives thing.

Speaking of Sister Wives, I know I say I hate reality shows, yet in the same breath I go on and on about the latest one I happen to be obsessed with. But anyways... this week? Those layered up, super mom sister wives made me CRY.

Keep in mind, I'm a total cynic when it comes to reality t.v. I get annoyed when they pretend we don't know the two people on the screen aren't really alone in the room having a private conversation, that there are AT LEAST one camera guy and one sound guy hovering near by. Not to mention cables, wires and other electronic.. doohickeys.

But then fourth wife Robin, just hours after squeezing a boy human from her lady bits, probably still experiencing the coochie afterburn of childbirth, aka "the ring of fire," got first wife Meri, who has often mentioned her desire to have another child but who isn't able, alone to talk and asked Meri if she could be her surrogate.

Seriously? You place your newborn infant in the arms of the infertile woman and WHILE SHE CRADLES HIS CHUBBY LITTLE BODY.. you ask her this? IN FRONT OF MILLIONS OF PEOPLE?

I call FOUL!

Sweet Mother of all that's Holy.. Do you think that was FAIR Robin? More importantly.. you made me do the ugly girl cry.

All joking aside, there is a love that exists between those women that I can't even comprehend. And it makes me a little jealous.

On a side note, I think Cody is just a big ol' happy go lucky horndog. He's got more spring in his step than a 15 year old boy with his first fake ID on his way to a strip show.

Crying in front of the bewb tube isn't the only thing I did on my vacation.

Saturday - Day One - I shopped. I found TWO king sized animal print (one leopard and one tiger) furry throws to cover the two front seats of the RV. Ya'll can't even grasp the tackiliciousness that is my girl cave. They were only $15 each. I also found a folding stool for $5 that I'm going to cover and some silverware. I visited Lowe's with the intention of getting another heater. I had already bought two, the first of which has ended up under my desk at work to take the chill off. The second was one of those oil filled radiator heaters, recommended by Cousin H. I should have known it wouldn't be worth a flip. Just like Cousin H. WHO CAN STILL BITE ME. I said to the sales lady, "Look, I'm freezing my bits and pieces off. I live in an RV with no insulation to speak of. I've had one of these (pointing) and one of these. I have $115 left on my Lowe's card. For the love of Pete, can you help me?" She walked me over to this:

It was $99. With tax and the discount I get for using my credit card, I should just make it. Then she leaned over and whispered, "If you come back on Black Friday, it's only $59."

A choir of angels could be heard rejoicing overhead. I damned near kissed the Lowe's saleslady.. ON THE LIPS.

Sunday - Day Two - I gassed up Jolene and made the trek over the mountain and through the woods to the neighboring county to get my bunny. I used the GPS on my phone to find the house, I was uber impressed with myself. The bunny breeder was a sweet, pimple faced little feller whose garage was over run with baby bunnies.His mom came home from church as I was getting ready to leave, she too was a darling. After instructions on feeding, holding and not scaring the living chit out of little Lola, I popped her in a pet taxi and brought her home. She is well on her way to being spoiled rotten. However, she sleeps in her litter box and poops everywhere else in her cage. I think she's wired wrong or something.

Monday - Day Three - I went to the dentist in Scary Hillbilly Town and had those two wonky molars yanked. The one was split completely in half, he needed to only wiggle it once to pop it out. He then stuck the nasty, bloody chunk o' tooth in my face and said, through his mask in a muffled voice, "HOW DID YOU STAND THIS?????" I never felt any pain from the pulling or the days after. I did have a face full of gauze, and I nearly had nervous breakdown when he came at my face with the giant screwdriver lookin' thing, but all and all it wasn't too bad. Feel free to refer to me as the snaggle toothed hillbilly.

Tuesday - Day Four - I laid around, crocheted myself a pair of fingerless gloves and watched Lola lose her mind, running around, enjoying stretching her legs. I used having my teeth ripped from my face as an excuse to be lazy. I am so allowed.

Wednesday - Day Five -I braved the grocery store for a few things for Turkey Day. Laid around some more. Played with the bunny some more. IT WAS VACATION PEOPLE.

Thursday - Day Six - I cooked way more than I said I was going to. No turkey, just a small ham, some sweet potato casserole and assorted veggies. I bought deviled eggs from the deli, jarred gravy and some Stove Top. And can shaped cranberry sauce. If it's not can shaped, it's not the good stuff. It was lip smacking tasty.

Friday - Day Seven -It had already been determined that I was going to have to go shopping, (see Saturday.) The Amazon needed shoes for work and the chubby girl store was having a 50% off everything sale, so we decided we'd do the Black Friday thing, for the first time EVER. We left the house at 2:45 a.m., because clearly, we're insane. We got back home around 11:30. We did not get maced. I learned that the mall is a magical place in the middle of the night. We went everywhere, including Lowe's. I got my heater. IT ROCKS. I'm so gonna hang tiny Christmas stockings in front of my super realistic fake flames. We went to a different Lowe's so I didn't see the same sales lady, which is good 'cuz I prolly would have humped her leg. I didn't buy much else, I was broke from shopping the previous weekend, but I did score a door buster deal on some Crocs for my oddly ginormous Flinstone feet (Fred, not Wilma thank you very much.)

Saturday - Day Eight - Recovered from Friday. Slept a lot. Spent time remembering the days that I used to bar hop for as many hours with no ill effects.. while drunk. I'm no spring chicken.

Sunday - Day Nine - Dreaded Monday. Did the laundry I should have done all during the previous week. Dreaded Monday some more. Worried over what Bossholio's mood was going to be. Played with bunny.

Anywho, that's all for now. I gotta get my bootay in gear. Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Lola: The Eden Wood of Bunnies

2011-11-22T09:23:00.001-05:00

I'm probably going to bore ya'll to tears with bunny pictures and videos, but clearly my bunny is the cutest bunny in the whole effin' world... SO DEAL WITH IT.

Ahem.

I'm totally like one of those Toddlers and Tiaras moms. MY BUNNY WILL BE A STAR!

Sorry. I need more coffee.

Later Taters!

Turkey Day Loafing

2011-11-18T10:58:00.001-05:00

Sweet Baby Jesus! It's cold up in this holler today. It'll be June 2012 before I start to get the feeling back in my toesies.

RV livin' when it's 26° outside is not for the mamby pamby. Especially when you're hiking through the front yard every time nature calls because your Cousin H is big lyinassedmuthafucka.

Just sayin'.

I can't wait to be off for the next nine days. I have lots of plans, only half of which will probably be even attempted and a fourth of those might actually be accomplished. We'll see. It all starts with a trip over the mountain and through the woods to the adjacent county to pick up my bunny, if Bunny Boy and I can get our schedules coordinated. Apparently he's having to squeeze me in between swim class and Yoga.

Other plans for the week include getting two of my teeth ripped out, planning my minimalist approach to Thanksgiving (I'm thinking Stove Top, a can of cranberry sauce and one of those turkey loaf... things.) I can't see knocking myself out cooking all day, getting the house all hot and dirtying up all the dishes when Ma won't hardly eat anything, I don't need to be eating it and probably won't feel like it anyway (see the fore mentioned tooth ripping) and T.A. will probably eat and leave to go over to the Boy Wonder's house, then there I'll be. A stack of dishes, Ma asleep and T.A. having vacated the premises.

Ummm. No.

I'm seriously tired of being the maid service.

Hopefully I can get my new stuff listed on Etsy. I have a bunch of new earrings, but it's been so dreary and overcast lately, I've not been able to get any decent pictures. I've also been working on a rectangular rug design (I gave up on the oval. It involved more math than I have brain cells for,) the first of which will go in the dog crate / bunny hacienda. The little booger better appreciate it. I've had to rip it out and restart twice already.

I'd like to find a nice, simple fingerless glove crochet pattern, not to sell but to make for myself. I'd like to be able to keep my hands warm and still have my fingers free to work on stuff. If ya'll know of any, let me know.

What else? I need to get my propane hooked up and possibly build a gate into the back yard. That will cut down considerably on my potty hikes. Someone, who shall remain nameless, had begrudgingly agreed to help me dig the holes, but I've given up on that happening. I'll just start digging. If it takes me a month to get a pole in the ground, then it just will I guess.

Oh yeah and? I need to cover the metal thinige. I gave up on the one. Damn. Screw. I worked around the metal plate and hung my shelf brackets and shelf, which fit in the space PERFECTLY, without having to be cut and my nuker/toaster oven is now off the counter, freeing up lots of space.

Yay me.

I'm thinking some contact paper will do the trick for the metal plate. It's kinda behind the oven, so it just has to sorta blend into the plywood wall behind it.

I also plan to take naps. Lots of naps. And watch television. Walk the dog. Play with the bunny. Ya know, important stuff.

Anywho, that's my game plan in a nutshell. Ya'll take care. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

Your Kid CAN Have a Pony for Christmas..

2011-11-17T08:41:00.001-05:00

...and support Canines for Disabled Kids at the same time.

For each pet balloon purchased, $5 goes to Canines for Disabled Kids, which helps to supply service dogs to physically challenged individuals.

For more information, check out http://myownpetballoon-news.com/

I'll be back tomorrow with the latest, greatest news fit to repeat from Frog Pond Holler.

Later Taters!!!

Screwing Around with Cousin H and The Bunny Boy

2011-11-14T11:27:00.001-05:00

Cousin H can bite me.

He called last Monday, several times, leaving woesome messages begging me to not be mad at him. He said he'd had his britches in a wad all weekend because he got "laid off" the previous Friday, this being the reason he never showed up to finish the job I ALREADY PAID HIM TO DO. When I did speak to him, he SWORE he'd be down this weekend.

Did he show up?

No.

Did he call?

No.

Asshole. I'm done.

The one day he DID come down and work, he wove me a sad tale of betrayal, of how Cousin B had hired him to put a new roof on my dearly departed uncle's house, but backed out of the deal when Cousin B's sister, Cousin CrazyassPsychoBiatch told Cousin B to stop sending "those people" money. "Those people" referring to Cousin H.

At first I felt sorry for him. Now I realize that Cousin B probably sent him money for supplies, but never got a roof out of the deal.

Also? I seriously doubt he got "laid off."

I'm trying to shake it off, but I'd really love to give him a big fat dose of the wut fer.

Anywho...

The Bunny Guy sent me new pictures of the future Girl Cave roomie, Lola. He sent a total of nine, but only one was sorta clear. Bunny Guy needs to work on his picture taking skills if he's gonna be a respectable bunny pimp. I reckon the pictures were to make sure he stays in my good graces. He's probably got a guilty conscience.. at least he should. His website said $35-50 for bunnies sold as pets, without a pedigree. Then, after I pick out Lola and name her.. and set up a cage.. and hay.. and a litter box.. he informs me it'll be $60. If I weren't such a sucker for a furry face, I'd tell him to forget it. But... he's just a kid and I don't wanna get into a confrontational pissing contest with a high school senior over a bunny rabbit.

Do you see a pattern developing here?

In other, expensive news...

I'll be spending at least one day of my Thanksgiving week off in the dentist's chair over in Scary Hillbilly Town having not one, but TWO wonky molars yanked from my face. They're both broken all the way down to the root. As a matter of fact, one half of the very back one is so loose, I have to pry it open with my tweezers to pick wayward chunks O' cuisine out of it. I knew it would have to go, the second one was a bonus surprise.

Yaay me.

I spent a big chunk of my weekend cussing a stubborn screw. Remember the big metal plate.. thing.. on the wall behind the stove in the Girl Cave? It had forty screws holding it in place. There was no way my old lady wrist would hold up to taking them out manually and my rechargeable screwdriver bit the dust, so I spent $25 on a new one. They make a $19 one, but of course Lowe's was conveniently out of those. I was able to remove 39 screws with lightening speed, then spent another entire day fighting with the one remaining screw.

It. Won't. Budge.

Today I stopped at the hardware store in town and picked up a ginormous, steel drilling drill bit, like I knew what the mutha eff I was doing, so I can drill it's stubborn little head off.

Take no prisoners.

Also, I made a bunch of AWESOME dangly, bellydance inspired earrings. Hopefully there'll be enough daylight left when I get off work to get some pictures.

For now, I guess I should get back to the business of Monday. Yippie-aye-feckin'-yay.

Later Taters!

Sunny Days and Bunny Dreams

2011-11-06T12:11:00.000-05:00

The sun is shining and the wind is whipping the leaves into a techno colored frenzy outside the girl cave windows, which, by the way, have been covered with plastic and sealed with duct tape, because my hillbilly blood runs deep.

And it's cold up in here.

I'm still operating off of two extension cords I have running through windows. Cousin H called last Monday and assured me he'd be down this weekend, probably Friday night so he and H Jr. could sleep over. The plan was to hit the ground running Saturday morning and fix my power and sewer line.

I haven't heard from him. Not a peep.

My spiritual side, the one that struggles to find a happy place, give everyone the benefit of the doubt and constantly reminds me that everything happens for a reason, is being taken over by that other side. You know the one. The crazy-bitch-oh-no-you-dint-head-swaying-ghetto-hillbilly side that is sorta kinda fed up. I wouldn't even care if I hadn't already paid him to come over. And? I suddenly remembered him stopping by the house over the winter, unannounced and for the first time in like 15 years to borrow $10. Which I gave him. Because I'm TRYING TO BE A BETTER PERSON.

Dammit.

Even if he DOES call tomorrow with an elaborate sob story, which may or may not be true, I think I'm going to sweetly tell him never mind. I don't want to cause him stress by giving him one more thing to worry about, ya know? Surely I can find someone around here.

Because everything happens for a reason.

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you already know about this:

Lola

This is Lola, a 6 week old Holland Lop. I've wanted a bunny since this showed up in our yard a few years ago, living under the Hippy Van. She ended up having baby bunnies and we've enjoyed watching several generations of the wild/pet mixed rabbits running around the holler. She eventually met her doom under the wheels of a car, which was sad, but kinda expected.

I had bunnies when I was a kid. My dad built a nice sized hutch in the backyard, telling me it was for someone he worked with, then surprised me with two Dutch rabbits, a broken brown (Cinnamon) and a broken black (Pepper.) This was all during those couple years before he and Ma got divorced, aka The Shit Hit The Fan era. As I got a little older, I considered that gift of bunnies as sort of hush money, which kinda effed up the joy of cute fluffy bunnies for me for a long time. The same kinda effed up I used to feel if I rode in a truck, thought about horse back riding again, going camping or looked at a banjo.

It's weird to like something (horses, bunnies, trucks.... I could kinda live without the banjo) but to get the heebeejeebies when ever you get around them. Buying my own truck (but a Chevy, not a Ford, take that old man!) was sort of a way of taking back myself. After a year of therapy, I realized there were a lot of things I denied myself, just because I associated them with crap that happened 30 years ago.

In case you're wondering, I don't walk around thinking about this regularly. I used to. I used to let it effect everything I did. I didn't go "Oh.. a bunny. I'll get a rabbit to spite the old man." It's when I stop and wonder why I've not gotten one before now that I realize the connection. It's because I'm better. It's because I DON'T let what happened control my every thought. It's because, as my doc said last month, "I think you've finally got your life back."

Okay, it's just a bunny. A sweet fluffy bunny who will be my roomie here in the girl cave. I've converted Yoda's old crate into a bunny home, complete with awesome purpular litter box. Ayla might be a little overly excited at first, but she doesn't bother the bird, other than to stick her nose up to his cage occasionally and give him a sniff. Ayla doesn't really approve of the girl cave. She spends the night in it, but the weather is cool and she'd rather be outside, on her back, spread eagle, airing out her girly bidness. The other two old man dogs have declared the girl cave okay for a visit, but too hard to get in and out of, too cold and they don't appreciate the indignity of having to be lifted onto the bed.

They've abandoned me and now sleep with The Amazon, who is loving having a whole room now.

So you see.. I needed something to keep me company.

I pick her up the weekend of the 19th, which works out great because I'm off the WHOLE EFFIN WEEK of Thanksgiving.

In other news...

I finally got my Paypal account straightened out, but I STILL don't have a new debit card for my regular checking account. I already called once to make sure it was even issued... and it was.. so all I can really do is wait. It's killing me writing checks and trying to remember to write them all down.

I've given up on trying to get a good wifi signal in the cave. I even tried taping aluminum foil to the window behind it to try to redirect the signal. It didn't help. I've been unplugging the ethernet cable from the desktop and popping it in my little netty. I should be able to find a little $2 signal splitter so I can hardline the netbook. I'd phase the desktop out, but I still need it for important stuff like Second Life, running Photo Shop and ... ya know.. Bejeweled and stuff.

I'm going to work on some earrings today and I've been working on a new project, some little change purses, so keep an eye on my Etsy shop for new listings.

I'd better hop to it.

Hop. I crack myself up.

Later Taters!

Dear Universe

2011-10-30T19:09:00.003-04:00

Pardon me while I whine.

In the past seven days....

My debit card was used to charge a reservation at a wrestling camp.. in Oregon.
My Paypal account got hacked and used to buy $50 worth of express mail postage to Russia.
I blew up the electrical system in the RV.

Dear Universe,

ENOUGH ALREADY

Thanks,
Mahala

Rusty Robot Monkeys and The Smartass Meets Her Match

2011-10-29T12:15:00.000-04:00

It's a cold and blustery day in Frog Pond Holler. Pooh Bear and the gang would feel right at home. I'm curled up on the couch in the girl cave, watching "The Closer" while occasionally glancing out the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the first flakes of winter.

Don't get excited, they're just calling for a mix around noonish.

There was lots of Bossholio drama at The Asylum this week. One of our customers complained that his five year old robot monkey was rusty. Our robot monkeys are supposed to be approved for outdoor use. So Bossholio gave the customer information on the coating we use on our monkeys, to prove that it couldn't possibly be our fault.

Well.

The customer, Spiffybots, called back to say they'd called the monkey paint manufacturer and were told that the coating we use isn't appropriate for use out in the elements.

Bossholio had an "oh shit" moment. Over the past 6 years, when we changed paint, we've sent out umpteenzillion robot monkeys with that paint. Most of which would be used outside.

There were wordy-dirties expelled at high volume. The top of Bossholio's head glowed bright red. After he got off the phone with Spiffybots, he got on the intercom and read off the management roll call and insisted that they all report to his office IMMEDIATELY.

I may have laughed a little. And snorted.

The GM was the first to arrive. He wasn't among those paged and I'm pretty sure Bossholio forgot he was even there. I don't think he would have showed his ass so blatantly if he'd realized it. He looked at Bossholio and said, "Damn Fred. You havin' the big one?"

To make a long story sorta shorter, throughout the course of the day, Bossholio blamed each and every one of the management staff for the problem, had about three hissy fits and crapped assorted farm animals.

It was hard to concentrate on my job, what with all the gigglesnorts coming from my cube.

At the end of the day it was determined that Bossholio had given the wrong information to Spiffybots and that our paint was.. well.. just spiffy.

Also this week at The Asylum, the new PM, Big Red, proved herself a teller of untruths, not to one or two employees, but the entire plant. Her reputation just went down the pipes, like the grand flushing of a ginormous toilet. She has also let her guard down and revealed that she possesses, like all our past PMs, a smart assed mouth and while she loves to dish it out, she never developed the ability to take it.

And... she has met her match. I have no fear. I couldn't care less if I get fired.

I intend to sanitize my mind from thoughts of The Asylum this weekend by getting some stuff listed for my shop and making some new stuff. I've got one finished rug laying here that I need to get on there and I've got some new earring parts to work with.

I hope ya'll have an awesome weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Weekends Wear Me Out

2011-10-24T21:05:00.001-04:00

Lord have mercy ya'll. This weekend was hard. Not Put-On-A-Dress-And-Go-To-A-Funeral hard or Flush-Your-Goldfish-Down-The-Terlit hard, but Lying-On-Your-Back-Under-The-RV-At-2-In-The-Afternoon hard.

I was trying to run the satellite and ethernet cables through the humpy thing between the seats using an unfolded wire coat hanger, some duct tape and a few strips of denim, instead of leaving them hanging out the passenger side window, seeing how it's been colder than a witch's tit in a brass brassiere at night and I'm in danger of loosing some bits and pieces of womanly flesh that I'd rather hold on to for a few more years.

Also this weekend, I hit Wally World for some spray paint, sprained my back loading a 6 x 8 wooden fence panel onto a cart at Lowe's, made curtains, turned plastic visors into shelves, complete with dangly Gypsy coin trim, sold a pair of earrings and installed a light in the bathroom.

On a side note, my new favoritest thing in the whole effing world is industrial strength double sided tape. OH. MY. GAWD. It's like.. MAGIC.

Anywho...

So tonight, I should be hanging the laundry I washed yesterday, or making earrings, or taking pictures of the rug I recently finished so I can get it listed on Etsy....

But my ass is parked for the evening. I'm tired. Everyone's fed, Ma's drugged and I don't plan on doing anything more strenuous than pushing remote buttons for the rest of the night.

I'll keep you posted. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Uppity Neighbors and Know It All Relatives

2011-10-08T14:58:00.000-04:00

The leaves are changing on the rolling hills surrounding Frog Pond Holler. Mornings and evenings are cool enough for an extra blanket, but I'm still thankful for the ac most late afternoons.

I love the fall.

I heard from the M.I.A. Cousin H yesterday, asking me how things were going, like he didn't stand me up last weekend. He asked what all else I needed done and he was all, "I'll be there this afternoon!" Which he was. Only he didn't fix anything.

I've asked him about a gazillion times if he could put a sewer tap on the end of the house. His reply was usually, "Daddy says there's one going out to the road right in front of where you have your RV." I've explained to him over and over (and over again) that when his Daddy had his camper parked in our yard (I truly wish I was making this up, but I'm not) he simply dug a hole and stuck the pipe in the ground to give the appearance of a way to responsibly dispose of waste from his camper. It was then implied, on several occasions, by Cousin H, that I was just a silly girl and goodness... why didn't I just hush and let Mr. Big Ol' Mancritter handle it?

This conversation took place again when he called me yesterday, resulting in his showing up at The Asylum, with his pop en tow, after he dug a fresh hole in my front yard where both he and his father SWORE there was a connection to the town sewer supply.

He pretty much said, "Well what do ya know? There was nothing there! They must have taken it out when they fixed the sidewalk."

Sure Cousin H. Tell yourself whatever you need to to keep your burly mountain man nads in tact.

Gawd.

Cousin H then agreed to come install a tap, LIKE I ASKED HIM TO BEGIN WITH, for $50 if I'd go ahead and give him the cash, because he HAD to get some money. Oh.. and he'll do it next weekend. He must have gotten more of that latent Gypsy DNA than I did, because he made it sound like a totally reasonable transaction, right up until he had me call the bank to make sure they'd cash a check for him without I.D.

So anyways, I thought I'd at least go out and spray some of that expand-o-foam stuff on the water leak by the outside spigot so I could run some water to the cave. I had to cut the fence apart, waller the skirting off the trailer and stick my arm in scary places, only to discover that it wasn't a little leak, it was pretty much running out.

I put it all back together and decided to just add it to the list of things I'll have Cousin H do next weekend. If he shows up. I used pink present wrapping ribbon to tie the fence back together. I'd take pictures to show you, but I don't know where my camera is. It might be in one of these piles of stuff I need to put away.

Did I mention that the entire right side of my face is infected? No? I don't know if it's tooth, sinus, throat or ear in origin, but it's kicking my ass.

What's that you say? Go to the doctor?

I have an entire bottle of perfectly good antibiotics that they gave Ma at the E.R. that she refused to take. I don't even know what they're called. But I'm taking them. And resting. Sort of.

I finally hauled the box spring to the dump this morning. My busibody neighbor was there, asking why I was throwing it away. I explained, not that it was any of her effin' beeswax, but it's the way of the holler.

She snarled her nose up and said, "Well I reckon you'll sleep on the floor then won't ya?"

What the hell?

I smiled and explained that there was no problem with the mattress and that I had very nice place to sleep. Nicer than the bed I had in the trailer. I wanted to tell her to go perform carnal acts of a lewd and lascivious nature upon herself, but ~~I didn't have the balls~~ I'm too nice.

I know what's up her booty. There has been some discussion of her and her hubby's distaste with the RV that sat over at the Dubya estate for years. The word "eyesore" was used. When it was hauled away, there was a quiet rejoicing from their house (complete with in ground pool) up on the hill. It was only a couple of weeks later that I rolled up with the girl cave.

I'm sure they felt a twinge of the agony of defeat.

Look. If you insist on living in a town with more campsites than residences withn a ten mile radius, then you need to leave your uppity highfallootiness at the border.

I'm serving up a big heaping helping of the "if-you-don't-like-it-you-can-pucker-up-and-pick-a-cheek" of late.

And it feels kinda nice.

Anywho...

I've got crap to put away and supplies to order. I need to gt back in the swing of things, shop wise. I hope ya'll have an awesometastic weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Power Tools, Extension Cords and Baby Bunnies

2011-10-04T12:02:00.001-04:00

Oh. My. Gawd. So. Tired.

I've been running around like the proverbial headless fowl for DAYS and I STILL don't have my stuff moved into my new girl cave. First, Cousin H never showed up Saturday to help me finish getting set up. I haven't heard from him at all. I'm not sure what the deal is, but I'm not calling him and asking. Maybe I didn't pay him enough, maybe my crazy is too much to take, maybe he's in jail... I'm not going to worry about it.

I've discovered that nothing that runs on battery works and the outlets are dead in the bedroom. This revealed a new found creativity with extension cords, double sided sticky tape and fluorescent strip lights.

I desperately needed a bed, so I found a state licensed business over in Big City that buys used mattresses from furniture stores (Ever wonder what they did with the old ones they hauled off? Now you know,) bakes them in a ginormous oven for two hours to kill everything then douses them in hydrogen peroxide. I got a queen sized set that was in WAY better shape than what I've been sleeping on for 70 bucks. Unfortunately, I also discovered that a queen sized boxspring will NOT go into an RV sized bedroom.

At all.

Even if you take the jigsaw and chop away some of the trim across the top of the door jam.

*cough*

I should not be left unsupervised in the company of power tools.

Anywho...

The mattress was a struggle, I somehow managed to get it stuck sideways between the ceiling and the floor once I got it in the room, but after some sweat, tears, unintentional flatulence (I was straining ya'll!) I got it in there.

Also? I've made more trips to Lowe's and Walmart than I care to mention. I have heat, but it's LOUD, so I picked up a space heater last night. I still don't have the water hooked up, I need to fix a leak by the spout on the house first, then I'm gonna just run a garden hose to the RV. I have my puter hooked up, complete with innerwebs and a cable running from the passenger side window to Ma's room, in true white trash fashion. I can't get the satellite to work, but our dish is always effed up. I just don't feel like dealing with the dish people right now, so I'm entertaining myself with Netflix for the time being.

I'm still running between buildings to use the bathroom, which is fun and I have NO idea if the hot water heater is even going to work, I needed to go back and read whether it runs off battery power or off the plug. I do, however, have propane, so I can probably get the stove operational, so I can heat water for cleaning, dishes etc. The Amazon might just have to accept that we'll be sharing a shower a while longer.

We'll see.

And in totally unrelated news and proof that I'm out of my ever lovin' mind, I'm on the waiting list for one of these:

They will be ready (8 weeks old) around November 23rd.

Let's just call it my mid-life crisis. Kay?

We'll talk again soon. Later Taters!

Girl Cave Video

2011-09-25T21:53:00.003-04:00

Wayne the Tattooed Guy, The Hillbilly Mrs. And Road Trip Adventures

2011-09-23T13:22:00.000-04:00

I left The Asylum at noon yesterday, stopped by the post office where I found the check for my 401K loan, in the amount of EVERY LAST PENNY I can borrow, crossed the road to the bank, paid the house payment and got a cashiers check made out to the scary hillbilly people who had the RV, after also draining my checking account and line of credit.

Then I went home and napped. Because spending every last dime you have is stressful. And Aunt Flo is an unpredictable old bitch.

I had to wait until the hillbilly Mrs. got off work to meet her, so me and The Amazon left the house around five-ish. She drove across the winding mountain road, the one that strikes fear in the hearts of people who drive trucks for a living, like a bat out of hell with it's ass on fire.

I aged about 5 years in an hour.

Once we emerged from the effin' wilderness, we stopped at the truck stop to tinkle, buy gas and grab a bite to eat. And because I LOVE truck stops.

Don't judge me.

The hillbilly Mrs. called while T.A. filled up her tank. I was supposed to meet her at 6:00 and it was 6:06 so she was freaking out. I guess she thought I was gonna pull a Craigslist maneuver and just not show up. I explained we were on our way. We met at a gas station and I followed her back down the dirt road where the RV sat, looking lonely and depressed, waiting to be rescued.

"Are you sure you can drive it?" she asked.

"I think so," I lied, "I'll just take the interstate back to Scary Hillbilly Town and go that way. It should be okay."

"Well, I brought Wayne," she said, pointing to her car just as Mr. Tattooed Man emerged, "he can drive it back to Frog Pond Holler and I'll follow you. I'm just concerned something will happen and go on my insurance."

"Oh. Um are you sure you want to drive all the way to Frog Pond Holler?" It was going to take at least an hour and half going the long way around.

"Sure, and I'd just feel better about the whole thing."

So Mr. Tattooed Man, who looked, acted, dressed and sounded JUST like Larry the Cable Guy, drove the RV with me riding shotgun.The hillbilly Mrs., who's husband was working out of town and who I suspect was the tattooed guy's sister, followed behind us and T.A. took up the rear.

It was a convoy ya'll. I may have even sang a few notes:

As we puttered along the interstate, Wayne the tattooed guy and I swapped stories of bad mushroom trips, acid induced visions of Smurfette and adventures buying crack in the projects (Just. Don't. Ask.) It was a good thing he was driving, because it took both of us to find the headlight switch on the gauge covered control panel that looked like mission effin' control. As darkness crept in, it became apparent that we had a problem.

The headlights were strobing like the light show at a KISS concert.

Apparently, the switch was bad and kept over heating. By the time we got to the middle of B.F.E., somewhere between Scary Hillbilly Town and the holler, we were having to stop and pull over every ten miles or so to let it the switch cool off. The hillbilly Mrs. kept apologizing, Wayne the tattooed guy kept assuring me it would be alright, he'd get us home. It was decided that should I get a wild hair up my butt and decide to run away from home, I'd probably need to do it during daylight hours.

We eventually did make it. The behemoth is sitting in front of the house. I have a call in to my cousin to come help me get it set up, but although he's not had a job in YEARS and has always had time and been willing to help out anyway he can, he's picked NOW to find gainful employment.

I hope he's free this weekend.

The RV, she looks a little rough. She's gonna need alot of TLC. My plan, cousin or not, is to fire up my camera and take a "before" video, which I'll post here ~~and hopefully not bore all ya'll to tears and chase you away completely~~ for your enjoyment. And then I'll have to clean. Alot. And I suspect there will be new and exciting uses found for The Amazon's zebra striped duct tape.

Ya'll stay tuned. The adventure has just begun.

We'll talk again soon. Later Taters!

P.S. You reckon since it's setting in the front yard, I should maybe tell Ma my plan?

Prescription Stress Causes a Need for Medication

2011-09-20T11:36:00.000-04:00

It's rainy and kinda dreary in the holler today. My eyes are all swollen from allergies, the office wreaks of dead rat and I'm getting a headache again, probably because I keep forgetting to take my blood pressure pill in the mornings.

Speaking of pills, medications and things of that nature...

I noticed the other day that I was getting low on batshitcrazy pills. I ran out of them once. We don't want that to happen again. I went online to the Wallyworld pharmacy to order a refill to pick up after work, but then got the bright idea to sign up for home delivery.

Obviously, 45 years of clusterfucked bright ideas haven't taught me a damned thing.

So I signed up, which seemed painless enough and thought all was well. I had enough pills to last about a week and they offered free shipping for 7 day delivery. But then? I got an email saying there was a problem processing my refill and that I needed to call their toll free number.

Okie dokie.

I called the toll free number, went through the ~~stupid mutha effin~~ automated menu, made my selection... and was DISCONNECTED. It's bad enough to be hung up on by a human, but when you get dissed by a RECORDING you've reached an all time low.

Way to go on the customer service there Wallyworld.

Needless to say, I was a tad bit miffed. I replied to the email, which clearly stated that I needed to call instead, but that wasn't working out for me, and explained that I had TRIED to call but had been disconnected.

The next day I got a reply.

"I would be happy to check on this for you, please verify your date of birth and mailing address so we may access your account."

Nice. I replied with the information. The next day I got this reply:

" What it is we have faxed your Dr for a 90 day supply and at this time we are just waiting on a response. Can you also call us at the number below so we may update your method of payment as well.

If I can assist in anything else please let me know."

What it is? Really?

So then? I called ANOTHER number and thankfully, was not hung up on, and asked the nice people at the Wallyworld home delivery pharmacy to please just cancel my order. I was now down to a couple of days worth of batshitcrazy pills and the stress they were causing me was just overriding any positive effect the medication was going to have any effin' way.

I was assured that the order was cancelled and I could order my refill right away, no problemo. I went back online (our local Wallyworld pharmacy's phone has been screwed up for weeks) to order my refill to pick up after work.

Guess what?

NO MORE REFILLS.

I called Wallyworld and by some supreme being's miraculous intervention, I got through to the pharmacy, who assured me they would contact my doctor for authorization.

I waited until the afternoon, then called back, confident that my worries were over, to make sure my prescription would be ready when I got there.

But.

The pharmacy still had not heard from my doctor.

I swear I'm not making this up ya'll.

I called the doctor's office and left a message on the ~~God forsaken stupid butt sucking invented by assholes with too much time on their hands~~ automated refill line. I sort of snottily left a message that I knew Walmart had been trying to contact them and I'd appreciate it if they'd DO THEIR JOB and call in my prescription before I lost my shit and stripped naked, running through the streets of Big City and singing Freebird.

Okay so maybe that wasn't the EXACT message.

The next day (I had taken my last pill the night before) I tried to play it cool. I called the pharmacy a time or two to find out if they'd heard anything. By now, I didn't even care if it got filled. I got off work at five, stopped at the post office to pick up the mail and guess what I found?

A PRESCRIPTION FOR A 90 DAY SUPPLY FROM THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE.

I shit you not people.

So great. I could just GO to Wallyworld and get the STUPID THING filled.

But wait.

I stopped at home to let Ma know I was making a run to Big City and while I was there, I got a phone call. FROM THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE. Regarding my UNPLEASANT message on their answering service.

And oh my God. I APOLOGIZED.

Why? I DON'T KNOW.

Clearly I need my ass kicked.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.