A Birthday on this Twenty-Third Day of July

So who is having a birthday today?  Well, I am sure a lot of people.  For instance, we have the following:

Monica Lewinsky – Hot!  I mean, who wouldn’t want to …. ew. wait.  never mind.

We have Daniel Radcliffe –  You know, Harry Potter... okay, well that’s lame, but whatever.

Then there's Slash from Guns 'n Roses – Now that's pretty sweet.  That dude can rock a guitar.  Okay, so I’m a closet Guns ‘n Roses fan who just came out of the closet. 

Woody Harrelson – Total stoner, plus I think he’s a great actor.  I'd love to share a birthday with him!  He’d light up a big phatty.

Alison Krauss – She has some pretty decent songs every now and then.
 
Philip Seymour Hoffman – LOVE THIS GUY! 
 
Florence Vidor – She was an American actress from the 1920s.  I never heard of her, but she looks beautiful. 
 
Bert Convy –  Come on.  Who doesn’t love some Bert Convy?

Normar Garciaparra - One word: BASEBALL!

Ian Thomas –  Eh, he’s a Canuck musician.  I’ll just include him for that reason alone.

Rob Stewart –  Same reason as above, except he’s an actor. 
 
Well, in any case, I think you get the idea.  There are so many more celebrities that have birthday on this 23^rd day of July, but honestly, who gives a fuck?  Today is my most awesomest, coolest, canuckian friend’s birthday and that’s the most important one of all.  :)    

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, P.!

Hope you have a great day and many, many more trips around the sun and have the moon make many, many more trips around you!  

The Jaws of Life

What does fear do?  Let me tell you about fear.  It is a destroyer of all things that are good.  Maybe paranoia is a better word -or- is it lack of trust?  Maybe not so much the lack of trust in others, but maybe the lack of trust in one's self. 

The fear of abandonment and losing all that we have known and loved whether these feelings are 'real or imagined' is quite the mental mind-game.  I believe I wrote a poem titled "real or imagined" relating to this very issue as I was once told I do something quite similar to this often. Thinking on that more, this poem was written a VERY long time ago.  Sad.  I still am playing a one-person mind-game.

Or... is it possible that the fear is of pain and hurt, whether physical or mental -OR- physical FROM the mental.  Either way it IS pain and no one really wants that.   However, this still goes back to abandonment, right?

Or... is it possible that the fear comes from the fact that there is a long history and track record that, quite frankly, is just not good.  This seems pretty damn logical, and even though it is still considered completely irrational to some, in one's mind, it is 100% rational, logical and worthy of believing.  Perception is one's reality.  That's the bottom line, is it not?  But again, this goes back to abandonment, right? 

Anger, Sadness, Fear... they all seem to twist and smash and mangle themselves together and eventually suffocate a once semi-thriving human being.  It is the breaking of these things apart that must be accomplished before anything prolific can happen. Still, these things are like twisted metal, two cars in a head-on collision, where the 'jaws of life' need to be called in to cut, spread and separate these demons to free the human spirit.  The only question is, just how in the hell how do you acquire that tool?

Lick My Pits... I mean Eyeballs?

Eyeball-licking or "worming" (....why?!?) as it is referred to is apparently a real fetish among teens in Japan.  And here I thought American teens were effed in the head.   Now we all have our little fetishes, of course.  I admit I don't mind having a pit licked every now and then.  That's normal.  It is normal, right?  I kid, I kid...

While armpit licking is not only sexy and completely safe, "worming" can be a very real problem because apparently it is causing eye chlamydia (conjunctivitis) to spread like wildfire.  Okay, that's just disgusting.  Where do these things start, you ask?  We can thank the fabulous EMO BAND Born for this in which their video "Spiral Lie" shows this neato technique.   You can view it below and so you can spare yourself the gawd awful song that it is skip to about 3:30-ish in the video. 

I have no desire to lick anyone's eyeball nor do I want mine licked.  I can barely keep my eyes open for the eye doctor.  Do not try this at home, folks.  We ought not to be spreading anymore diseases.  Please stick to the normal licking places, like one's pits. 

Dollar Dog Night, Pringles, and Hidden Obesity

I bought Pringles yesterday.  And hot dogs.  My son was craving hot dogs after seeing a commercial on TV for "Dollar Dog Night" at Progressive Field (that's where the Cleveland Indians play...) and so I bought him hot dogs.  I never buy hot dogs.  Personally, I think they are disgusting.  Of course, if one decides to take me (yes, I'm not paying) to a Tribe game, I'd be happy to shovel in several purchased (again, I'm not buying)  hot dogs.  This is why everyone loves "Dollar Dog Night" and this is why I believe my son started craving them after seeing the commercial.  People were shoveling them in on that commercial while appearing to be having hot dog orgasms.  But I digress.

So what does this have to do with hiding Pringles?  Pringles are chips and chips go with hot dogs.  Are you following?  Well, after all of this talk about hot dogs, he decided last night that he did NOT want hot dogs for dinner OR the Pringles.  I love kids.  Really, they are a blast and so easy to please.  For the record, I generally make healthy meals for him, but I was trying to be a hip, cool mom for once and get wild and crazy with these hot dogs.  But I digress again.

So there the Pringles sat, staring glaring at me calling me by name, "Hey you fat ass, come eat me".  I  heard that shit and immediately told my son to go hide them because eating a whole can of Pringles was beginning to feel like a really bad idea.  My son then said, "I'll hide them in my room."  knowing full well that I wouldn't step foot in that monstrosity of a cesspool.  Now I normally do NOT allow food in his room, but I could not have been more happy with this idea.  I would NEVER go in his room to look for ANYTHING.

I think from now on any of his junk food I don't want to be tempted to eat, I will just make him hide in his room.  Not sure how great of an idea this is because while I'm going to stay healthy and fit, my son will turn into another obese teen.

Oh well, as I know deep down inside, as a good mother,  it's all about me anyway.

Bullwinkles: A Homosexual Experience I will never Forget

Names have been changed for no reason at all because I highly doubt those involved would even remember or care, but I'm going to do it anyway.

The year was 1989.  I was either 18 or 19 - doesn't really matter much.  I was living in Bloomington, Indiana with my older sister at the time and using her ID to get into bars regularly.  All my friends were all over 21 and drinking.  What was a girl to do.

I was naive, to say the least.   I was especially naive when it came to homosexuals, homosexuality, gays, lesbians, etc., etc., etc.  One evening I became an astute individual to the world of homosexuals like real fast.

My two friends, we'll call them Gina and Grant, and I were trying to figure out what we wanted to do.  They kept going back and forth to each other saying things like "Should we?" - "I don't know... do you think she can handle it?" - "She'll be fine..." - "Let's do it." ....  Of course, I have no idea what the hell they are talking about.  They said they wanted to take me to a bar called Bullwinkles and they thought I'd really have fun.  Me being the mere innocent child I was, but ready to party said "Let's go!"

Bullwinkles was underground, so you had to walk down steps to get into the place. We had our IDs checked and although I looked nothing like my older sister, I got in with no problems (ahhh, the good old days...) and then headed toward the main bar to get drinks.  On my way to the bar, I remember looking around and thinking, "Hmm... there are only men in here.  I wonder why?"  And not even a few seconds later, I realized why there were only men in there as I saw two of them kissing against the wall just a few feet away.  I think that's when all the blood proceeded to drain from my face and my jaw dropped to the floor and of course my friends were standing there looking at me looking around with extreme joy that they had popped my gay bar 'cherry'.

Oh, but it does not stop here, no it does not...

I said to myself that I was going to be a very mature person about this even though I was a bit unnerved to say the least.  We sat down at a table and I probably sucked down my electric lemonade within minutes.  (I can't believe I drank those, but I did.)  All of a sudden, the lights go down, and spotlights and crazy colored lights with this wacked out burlesque music starts playing.  I look toward the stage where I see this lady.  But wait, it was not a lady.  It was a man, dressed up as a lady... okay, it was a drag queen.  She(He) comes out and starts dancing and singing.  And, and... gawd, the horror.

Needless to say, Gina and Grant were basically laughing their asses off - at me.  I can't even imagine what my face looked like.  I actually wish I had a picture of it now (of my face, not of the drag queen).  I must admit, I'm kind of glad I had this experience.  It was one I will never forget and there is nothing like jumping into a homosexual experience head first, right?  It was my first.... and last as of today.  ;)

Oh and here's a trip... when I was looking for a picture for this post, I actually found this (myspace?  ha!) which has pictures from Bullwinkles.  Yeah, thought so...  so glad this memory is alive and well.

Bullwinkles - Drag Queen Show

         There are just no words.

A Latex Nightmare

The following blog post contains a lot of swearing because it is highly fucking necessary.

I'm not even sure that I can explain this well enough to be understood, but I have to get this out of my system because it's just one of those "STRANGER THAN FICTION" stories that MUST be told...

You know this has to be good if I'm writing two blog posts in one day, right?  Just agree and keep reading...  So, there is a knock at my door around 6:30 tonight and this is usually a sign that I have mail that doesn't fit in my mailbox.  My mail dude has two boxes for me along with my other mail.  I have no idea what these two boxes could be because I didn't order anything.  I look at both boxes and one is addressed to me and one is addressed to (who I thought) was my son.  Please hold tightly in your mind the word THOUGHT.  This word is key in this story.

The box addressed to my son (clear as day it IS his name) is from Canada and this makes no sense in my mind.  The other box, however, is from the MLB (major league baseball) store and so I have an idea who might have sent this one.  This is why I am confused as to why there are two boxes with one addressed to my son as the box addressed to me is from who I believe, a Canadian!  As you can see, the confusion is starting to set in my little American brain. 

Stay with me people...

I look again at the address on my (apparent) son's box and the apartment number is wrong but this has happened before, so I don't really think too much of it.  I am still wondering what could possibly be inside this box that is for my 14-year-old SON???  It's still not sinking in that anything would be sent to him from my person in Canada.  (Yes, I have people in Canada.  No need for questions.)  Having that motherly instinct, I decide to open the box myself and see what the hell it is.  Let's just say I'm glad the fuck I did.  Well, actually, no I'm not.  I'm just glad my son DIDN'T.  I see the packaging slip which reads the two items enclosed:  (And this is exact wording...)

QTY 1 - Chlorinated Latex Panties with Internal Inflatable Dildo & Anal Plug
QTY 1 - Chlorinated Latex Hood with Eyes/Nose/Mouth Holes

As you can probably imagine, I am thinking W. T. F.!   I don't think it's necessary for me to go into detail all the OTHER thoughts that ran through my motherly mind.  It wasn't pretty.  As I further investigated the situation and mind you, I did NOT unwrap any of the enclosed items, I figured out that the entire address was incorrect.  This box was for the apartment building three over from mine.  Like holy effin' SHIT.  Good gawd on this green earth.   I mean, what kind of sick joke is my mail carrier playing on me?  What am I supposed to do now?  I've opened the freakin' box.  I can't keep this box in my apartment.  I am working all day tomorrow and my son will be home alone.   I think I may have to tape the fucker back up and return it to the post office.   I hope, hope, hope I NEVER see this other creeper around here.  I thought maybe I could make it until next June going month to month after my lease was up this December, but I'm pretty sure that I am out of here come December 1st, midnight. No later.

And just for those that don't know me, I have a very common last name and my son's name is extremely common, so this wasn't like some dishonest mistake I made. I just wanted to make that clarification.

Oh and here's what came for me except I don't think I was able to enjoy it too much!

I'm still sick.

I don't normally look like this, although I am sure there are some who would beg to differ.