COFFEE, coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee

Have I mentioned how much I love coffee?! I LOVE IT! I love the smell of coffee. I love the taste. I love the cracked out effect it has on my little 115 lb body. I love the word coffee. It just sounds so harmonious to my ears. It holds promises of late nights and spontaneous cleaning frenzies. Its also the Life blood of my mornings. Breakfast of Champions. Its gotta be thick. Its gotta be black. Its gotta be able to stand a spoon strait up and down in the center of the cup. Not too hot though. I don't like to burn my tongue. Room temp to cold is about perfect. I don't mind a few grounds floating around in there, either. That just adds to the flavor. I don't even mind drinking what's left in the bottom of the pot after its been sitting all day. YUMM.
Last night I had a hankering for some coffee after work. I generally try not drink any after noon, just because the crash from sustaining a caffeine buzz like that all day is too much for me to bear. One minute I'm scrubbing the bathroom floor with a toothbrush, the next I am passed out like a drunk cheerleader at a frat party. So last night, about half way thru my reheated cup-o-black tar from the bottom of the pot, I start feeling the effects. My legs start tapping up and down to music I must have only been able to hear on a subconscious level. It had to have been some kick ass Megadeath or something, at the rate my legs were going. I kept standing up, feeling like I should have been doing something, then sitting down again, when I realized there was nothing I wanted to do. My hands were shaking, my mind was racing, and I swear even my eyeballs felt twitchy. Its okay to feel like that for a bit, but after a little while, it begins to wear me out. No one can sustain those high levels of energy for long. I figured out a solution, though. Now granted, this solution would not work at the office or anywhere else that would require driving at a later point. Its simple. Yeager. That's right. Yeagermeister. The evil, dark brown, NyQuill tasting, comes in a green death bottle, Yeager. (Cold of course) Yeager for me is a big downer. I do a couple of shots and instead of feeling slutty, I get lazy. Put enough shots in me and all I want to do is go to bed. Touch me, molest me if you must, but don't wake me up, even after its over. Honestly, I don't want to know what was done with my unconscious body. I mean, what if I like it and want it more?! Then your going to know just what a freaky bitch I really am. Its best just to play innocent. :o) So, to the counter the effects of a late evening coffee binge, do a couple of Yeager shots. The energy from the coffee was still pulsing thru me, but the Yeager got rid of the feeling of needing to be productive. It allowed me to calm down enough to stop my leg from bouncing up and down like crazy, and to play a little Need For Speed: Underground 2. When I mean I played "a little" it really amounts to about 3 hours of quality xbox time. Who plays "a little" xbox?!?
The Yeager seemed to get along with the coffee in my system really well. I had no hangover type feelings today, and none of that out of control drunk Yeager buzz either. The two came together in my blood stream and flowed harmoniously to my brain, neither of them fighting for control, just chilling, making me feel all warm, fuzzy and slightly tinglely.
MMM coffee and Yeager.. Life is Good.

Still More Friday Funny...

Ello, Ello!!
Your favorite slutty-moo-cow-ho here with another Friday Funny!!! Woo hoo!!! I know you are bored at work, no motivation to get anything done, and just wishing this day would hurry up and get the fuck over with. That's why I think you should pop on over to Something Awful's Photoshop Phriday and enjoy yourself! There is at least 10 minutes of work wasting time just waiting for you!!
Here's a little sample of the excitement that is just a mouse clicky away!



So get your cute asses over there.
clickity click click...

Better Now

Alrighty, my hormones have chilled. Except for the cotton saddle between my legs and the constant urge to check the crotch of my jeans for blood stains, I am back to normal. Well, as normal as I get. Don't expect 100% normal from me because I have never been, nor ever will be 100% normal.

Speaking of, what the hell is NORMAL? Who decides what's normal and what's not? Why is it that if you say normal enough times it starts to sound weird? I have no idea who set the "normal" standard or why, but my theory is if you think you are normal, then you probably aren't and people who go about worrying about what is normal and what isn't have way too much time on their hands.

So here I am on a Thursday, with tons of work to do, a meeting scheduled for this afternoon, and I feel like writing. I know I'm not the worlds best writer. I know my posts are not always easy to follow or even that much fun to read. The point is, I'm trying, I keep at it with out giving up, and I have sought and found help improving my writing skills. I found some really good advice Here. His tips are easy to understand and helpful. I am going to try to follow them as best I can. Hopefully, you, my wonderful loyal readers, will notice an improvement in my writing and find reading my post all that more enjoyable. Oh Happy Day!

You may be wondering just what the hell I am going to write about today. *Smile* I was just wondering the same thing. There is some drama going on in my little world this week, but I am not ready to discuss all that as of yet. Work has been reasonably quiet, but I think that's because the guy in LA that pisses me off so bad is on vacation. I have not been on my favorite forum in weeks and it seems the only people who miss me on there are guys. I didn't realize that I had pissed off so many of the women. I think what finally turned them all against me was my post about another certain member of the forum. The way I figure it, though, I never mentioned her name (real or the name she uses on the forum) and for all they know I could frequent a shit load of different forums. I don't see how I could have pissed them off so badly if they really have no confirmation of who I was talking about. *Shrug* In a way, I feel bad because I really liked some of the girls on there. On the other hand, do I really want to be friends with people who would get pissed at me for expressing my own opinions, especially in what is considered my "online diary"? Not really. I have people in my life who love me, opinions and all. Those are the people who matter.

I have been wondering, as of late, just who the hell I really am anymore. I cant remember ever feeling this lost in all my life. Seems like when I was a kid it just didn't matter, or didn't matter enough for me to put any thought into it. Now, I think about it a lot. I feel like I have lost part of me. A part I really didn't know was missing until I went looking for it. Part of it is I have lost my imagination. Oh, I can still call on it every now and then to come up with something to amuse my friends and family, but the soul of it is gone. I haven't made up a new character in ages. Well, not since the tragic loss of Penelope Gaywad. I wonder which choices I have made in my life have led me to this place and how can I get back to where I was before. I feel a need to revisit my past self to help me discover how to come to terms with the person I am now. First stop, music. I have played some kind of instrument since the 5th grade. The last 9 years I haven't touched a single one, though, and I miss it. So, since I was inspired by Dad's trip to Scotland, I have begun to practice bagpipes. Not on actual bagpipes yet, but on a groovy little practice chanter that will help me get my fingering and breathing techniques back on par. So far I have learned 4 notes, which is a big deal. If you have ever tried to play bagpipes or even just the practice chanter then you know how difficult the fingerings actually are. The first night I practiced for about an hour and by the end of it (and most of the following day) my wrist was sore. But, I got the notes down and can sound them on demand. Its quite the accomplishment and I'm proud of myself!

*(heh heh..She said "fingerings"...heh heh) Dammit Beavis! Get out of my head!*

Next stop..Who knows?! I'm finding that life cares not for the plans I make. It has its own plans. I'm just doing the best I can, living life one day at a time, and trying to hang on to small shreds that I still recognize as me.

Painting the Town Red on V-day

Great news! My Uterus decided to get into the spirit of Valentines Day! What a nice surprise! It looks like I have a recreation of the Saint Valentines Massacre going on in my panties.

Ugh, I hate this time of the month. Sorry, but yes, this is going to be a period post. If this sort of thing grosses you out, then go read something else, you wussy. I'm living it, with no choice in the matter, so therefore I feel I have the right, and yeah, almost a need to write about it.
Hubby gets all nastied out when I try to talk to him about it. To him, seeing the wadded up rags in the trash can are enough to cause him to gag. Okay, guys, do you think we (us girls) actually like not being able to get any for 5 to 7 days?! Do you think its fun for us to have to haul ass to the bathroom to change a nasty, overflowing, mini cotton diaper every 2 to 4 hours?! What about those nice little "accidents" that have brought back the sweater tied around your waist fad? (Actually I think that's a centuries old fad. As long as girls have been accidentally leaking onto their pants, we have had sweaters to cover our asses.) Cramps are a BLAST let me tell you! There is nothing more fun than being woken up at 4 in the morning by excruciating pain in the lower abdomen. Oh, and the actual feeling of your uterus leaking into your panties is swell too. I mean, who wouldn't want the feeling of peeing your pants with out any control of how and when it happens. My favorite part is getting out of the shower in the morning, only to drip a few drops of blood onto my nice off white bath rug. Oh yeah. Love having to scrub a rug before work.

Scrub a rug. That would be a kick ass song title. Maybe I'll write a period song for us girls and title it "Scrub a Rug". That might also be a good lesbian song title..

I think the worst is the chocolate cravings. I am not normally a chocolate type of girl. Most times I don't even like chocolate very much. For the first few days of Aunt Flow's visit, however, I can not get enough! I want m&m's, kitkats, Hersheys with Almonds, anything I can get my grubby little hands on! I feel like a fucking PIG!
The emotional roller coaster is no picnic either. One minute I'm happy, everything is fine, the next I feel like curling up into the fetal position and crying myself to sleep! WTF?! Its totally irrational and it drives me crazy. (short drive these days) I know its my hormones going crazy inside me that causes all these side effects. That doesn't make it any easier to handle, though.
The point to this post? There isn't one. You gotta problem with that? Ha, join the fucking club. I just wanted to get these few random period thoughts out of my brain. Its my blog..If you don't like it, then hit that clever little button at the top right of the screen that says "Next Blog" and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.
See what a bitch I am?! Yeah, I think its time to sequester myself to the bedroom with a pint of Rocky Road, some good tear jerking chick flicks, and ride the hormonal storm out.

The New Face of Evil

Oh sure, he looks cute and innocent enough, but as with everything, looks can be deceiving. Some of you may be thinking how evil could a sweet little thing like that be? My answer to you is Pretty Damn Evil.
Let me lay down why I believe this, and why, even with my unending love for all animals, I despise this cat.
Reason #1 is my hands look like I'm into some kind of self mutilation. I have had kittens and puppies before, so this dance is not new to me. I know during a certain part of their growth, they will, inevitability, need to chew, claw and play. This little hell spawn takes it step further by subjecting me to an barrage of attacks while I'm cooking, scratching an itch, sitting quietly reading a book, or trying to sleep. If it moves, he attacks it with a passion only found in wild animals hunting for their food. I have no idea why my hands in particular seem offend him so much. There is no moving once I am under the covers in bed. No adjusting the blankets, no rolling over, no breathing or talking. Any of the previously listed brings down a wrath of sharp little pin pricks and little razor teeth. Forget about tying your shoes. Too many strings. I have settled for a nice pair of zip up tennies, although they aren't much better. Zippers seem to attract his attention as much as shoe laces do. Plus, my dad gives me crap for having zip up shoes. I get to hear "Too lazy to tie your shoes anymore?!" No, dad, I'm tired of having to pull my flesh out from underneath the kitties claws and try to band-aid it back on so my hands don't end up looking like the crypt keepers. At least the zip shoes go on faster. Less time for an attack to be planned.
Reason #2 is he is constantly getting into EVERYTHING. Straws are also part of the offensive items list. Any time there is a fountain coke in the house, it has a life span of about 10 minutes, depending on how distracted the evil one is. We have had to move the dog food bag (all 30 plus pounds of it) to a secure location or it gets chewed open and little doggie food bits go everywhere. This particular event happened last night at about 12. I, being the smart person I am, thought it would be safe in a cabinet. Wrong. Seems cabinet doors are no match for an evil spawn kitty with more determination than body mass. All of my emery boards have gone M.I.A along with 90% of the pens. Anything left on the coffee table is relocated to the floor where the dogs promptly pick it up and eat it. We have lost all sorts of goodies due to the tag-team efforts of Hell Cat and accomplices. One of their personal favorites is Hubby's creamer. There really is nothing like coming home after a hard day at work only to discover that your house looks like a crack factory blew up inside it.
Reason #3 is he is a worse mooch than the dogs. How this is possible I have no idea. The dogs, themselves, sit at our feet while we eat, sending out "Gimme some food, we are STARVING" vibes, and looking at us with the biggest, saddest eyes on the planet. Any person who would walk in on this nightly ritual would swear that we beat and starve our animals. Anyone who hangs out there longer than a few minutes knows this is not the case. That doesn't stop the doggies from trying to convince strangers of their plight though. I can handle/ignore the pathetic looks and the vibes. What I cant handle is fighting off an evil little fur ball the entire time I'm trying to stuff food in my own face. Process goes something like this:
Take a bite, throw the kitty. Take another bite, grab kitty (who is trying to shimmy up my pant leg) and toss him again. Take bite, laugh as the hubby fights off kitty. Take bite, realize laughing has brought attention back to me, grab kitty before he can get all four paws onto my plate, throw him again. Give kitty a small bite so I can have a moment of peace to shovel down what's left of my dinner. Notice doggies saw me share with kitty, therefore guilting me into giving them a little piece. Put dishes in sink, fight off kitty who insists that he could do a better job of cleaning my plate, even if it has already been rinsed and is in dish water. Repeat
It amazes me that this cat will eat anything. Seriously, the only thing I have found that he doesn't like is marshmallows. Chocolate, chips, cookies, onions, hamburgers, pizza, lasagna, you name it, he has tried it and came back for more. He caught a fly last night and ate that too.
Reason #4 is the early morning Ultimate Fighting Championships between Hell Spawn and Midnight. For some reason 5 am seems to be the perfect time to start some shit with the dog. EVERY MORNING! Even on weekends! Starts with a pounce, a well placed bite on the tip of a doggie nose, a yelp, followed by some "Rouwrouw" from Midnight, with the kitty bouncing around, jabbing, ducking, and dodging the dogs snapping jaws. Usually ending with me fumbling in the dark for the soft body of the Hell Cat and tossing him over board. What do you do, Mid, that pisses him off so bad first thing in the morning?! Well, stop it! I need that extra hour of sleep before the alarm so rudely starts screaming at me.

I have to admit, the spawn of Satan has his good moments. His only saving grace are those rare moments when he has put the deadly claws away and busted out the purr box. Then he is as cute as.....well....a kitten. It doesn't last, though, and he promptly goes back to being a holy terror.

Don't believe me or any of this? Come spend the weekend with me. I dare ya. Just be sure to bring plenty protection.

Oh, I've Got Big Balls...

Don't you just love it when I use song lyrics for the titles of my posts? :o) Can you guess what song was playing on my wonderful-I-don't-know-how-I-ever-lived-without-it GoGear when I started typing this post? Seriously, that thing is the shiz-nit. I have, currently, 997 songs loaded on it and I still have room for 14,003 more. That number is correct by the way. No, I did not accidentally put an extra zero in there.

Sheesh. I don't think its going to be possible for me to fill the entire thing, unless it runs good for the next 10 years or so. Maybe by then I will be closer to reaching the 15,000 mark. Right now, though, I'm thoroughly enjoying hitting random and letting that sucker play away with what I have already loaded. I love being able to hear anything from bagpipe music, to 70's disco, to dance hits, to classic rock, to ICP all in one road trip. Ha! It makes me laugh when "Amazing Grace" (as played by some wonderful bagpipers) comes on then is followed by "She Aint Afraid" by ICP! Talk about two opposite ends of the music spectrum!

See, I have always had kind of an Eclectic taste in music. I love all kinds from the real twangy old school country to some of the hard core rap and heavy metal, including everything in between. GoGear allows me to collect all of that in once place and listen to any of it at will. Now that I'm spoiled with an hawsome music collection all in one spot, I don't know if I could ever go back to regular CD's or radio. Hell, I can tune in the GoGear into my stereo (anywhere) with the handy dandy radio adapter thingy. (that's the technical term by the way. It says "thingy" right on the package)

Another mega-super-cool feature is I can download music and pictures from pretty much any computer. I don't have to convert into iTunes or download a whole bunch of new programs. Its SUH-WEET. If anyone out there that's reading this has been looking to buy an iPod or some other MP3 player, I cannot recommend the GoGear enough. There are smaller versions of what I have for less money, if 15,000 songs seems like over kill to you.

Geezus, I sound like a commercial.
Go Buy a GoGear! Spend Money on a toy that has more uses than you can shake a stick at!

Wait.....I just shook a stick at my GoGear and it didn't seem impressed....

Anyways, I guess that's enough love given out to the GoGear for today. I swear, if I could, I would make love to it. No pokey outey parts, though, and I'm not sure how good the moisture would be for it.
Guess I'll have to settle for my favorite fingers...as usual. At least I have some good tunes to wack off to. tee hee :oP