29 October, 2004
I was gonna do my best to avoid anything political on this here blog until after the election, when emotions start cooling a touch, but when I have to sit through the candidates (both national AND local) pulling out all the stops and saying things that I know their mama's would slap them silly over it's time to at least say something. I mean, these are things so downright nasty that the "I'm blah blah blah andI approved this ad" has been replaced with "This ad brought to you by the Dempublican National Party". If ya can't put your name on it, people, you don't need to be running this shit in prime time.

So I'm saying something. Except not really because I am lucky and I have friends who have incredibly astute and brilliant children who say it far better than I could. So this is a link to the blog of one of my very favorite people on the entire planet. This particular post she tells a moving story about just how simple these things can all boil down to from the perspective of her brilliant daughter, Ruthie, who is also one of my favorite people on the planet. (and her dad ain't too shabby either. kid's got some good genes. and don't even get me started on Ruthie's brother. i just want to have a daughter of my own so she can marry him.)


Posted at 6:23 PM


So, the foundation fixer guy is here today and he did as I requested and yanked a support beam out from under the corner of the stairsteps (he put a temporary one in while repairs are going on so the whole shebang doesn't come crashing down on his head) and lo and behold, what do we find? A hole. Not A$$hole but an actual hole. A hole the size of a basketball that goes right the hell through our foundation all the way to the other side...which is dirt. So now there is not only water gushing in every time it rains but it's dragging in the dirt and forming my very own indoor mud puddle. Since it is gonna rain all weekend the fixer guy is putting in extra hours and promises me it'll be done by tonight! Thank goodness because I have no one here who wants mudpies for dinner (and if M doesn't get down there to help that's what he's having anyway).

But yea me. I get to go to Brown County, Indiana tomorrow for a day of Christmas shopping and holiday worthy eating with my girlfriends! http://www.browncounty.com/I've got my list, I'm checking it no more than 3 times, and I know I'm on it too. Mama's in the market for some new Christmas decorations.

AND we have Princess Protoge for Halloween so I get to get all dolled up and go trick or treating. Since I will have a real live kid with me this year I probably won't get half the weird looks that I did last year.

Posted at 3:25 PM

27 October, 2004
In case there are some new readers who don't understand the fuckedupedness of my husband's family I am here to regale you with a few more stories for your superior feeling pleasure. Don't worry, there's about 3 new stories a week so I'll never run out.

Okay, Grandmonster has a TG Sheppard obsession. We have established that already.
http://talesof3.blogspot.com/2004/08/hey-ya-know-what-i-hate.html#comments Well yesterday TG released a new album. Yeah, I know, why? But of course Grandmonster was determined to have it immediately. But even in Kentucky there was no way any reputable or unreputable music store was gonna have that shit on the shelves on day one. They had George Michael but no way are they packing extra staff to put TG MuthafuckingSheppard on the shelves the day of it's release. Maybe by next Christmas, but not yesterday. (and no, it isn't a Christmas cd. It's called Timeless and it is an album of standards. Tony Bennet is fuming because of the redition of Left My Heart In San Fransisco. I think San Fransisco is thinking of seceding from the union because America allowed this to happen. I don't blame them.)

Despite this fact, M went to 4 different music stores just to make sure (and to escape the insistant bitching by his grandmother. lucky bastard.) to no avail. So what can I do? I'm stuck in the house with a mopey Grandmonster who has no one else to gripe to but me. Yeah, mama's putting up with that shit for about 14 seconds before she becomes solution oriented real damn fast. So I hop on Amazon.com and see what I can do. I hate them now. Grandmonster stood over me to see if I could find the new album, and I did. Unfortunately, I had the oversight of looking it up by TG's name instead of the album name. Who would have thought that there were 4 albums and a DVD that Grandmonster did not have? Not me, that's for damn sure! But there were and I added those to the order, along with 3 copies of his new cd. Yeah, 3. Those who have been to my house would not disbelieve this but for those of you who haven't been subjected to the TG tour I'll tell you why straight from the horses mouth.

She says she wants "one to listen to and at least 2 others to just have." She'll get all 3 autographed, trust me. But she wants 2 "just in case." In case what? In case her granddaughter in law finally wigs out and burns her and the TG collection alive? (and, in fact, the TG collection would make fabulous kindling...as long as they were set ablaze far far from my house since burning cd's have a nasty stench that just won't Lysol out. I am forbidden by the ruling of the court from discussing how I know this, so don't ask.)

So we order the stuff and I add a few books I've been wanting for a while now, just for good measure and Grandmonster whips out the old checkbook and writes me a check for the balance. She couldn't pitch in for the plumbing, but $124.39 on TG is totally within her budget. I'm just saying. It'll be here tomorrow or so. I'll be in hell, but I'll have my cellphone so gimme a ring.


BabyBIL, the Jailbird with child support payment problems, (or no problems since he has never seemed to pay any in the 3 and a half years his son has been alivehttp://talesof3.blogspot.com/2004/09/this-is-why-they-dont-sell-untraceable.html) has managed to knock up yet another unsuspecting young woman. Yea him. He's keeping quiet about the knockee so I'm guessing she is under the legal drinking age, but who knows? His last Babaymama is 3 years older than me and I'm 3 years older than him.

To quote one of my dear 3's...."Jeebus."

Spending my quality time delousing the basement is sounding better and better.

Posted at 2:29 PM

25 October, 2004
She's gone, y'all. The hammock is gone. She was a good friend and my own personal soft place to fall and she's gone. She was where I retreated when things got too hot in here and she kept me from killing Grandmonster on many occasions. The Hammock Cam is taking a leave of absence in honor of the goodness that was my hammock. What am I to do?

It was an unexpected loss, to say the least. It wasn't a prolonged illness, just a quick breakdown. Personally, I blame the squirrels. One day I was swinging in her and reading a good book and the next day I see her hanging in shreds. She clung to the trees bravely while her lovely embracing ropes dangled sadly on the ground. We mercifully let her go to the hammock trees in the sky this past weekend.

I knew it was her time, but WHY LORD? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HER? I look back at the photographic memories of the good times we had together. There is one of Princess Protoge and myself napping and swinging in the breeze on a July evening, one of me with my adult beverage of choice in one hand and a book and a cigarette in the other and Gus sleeping on the ground underneath, 6 others that are basically the same but with me in different outfits. I have no clue who took them but I'm betting it was the Princess. She likes my big camera.

I'm gonna miss her so, but I know she has gone to a better place and at least my Christmas tree will not be alone. Fortunately, I have many things to distract me at the moment. M relocated his office from the dining room to the basement yesterday so I now have access to all the crap that has been piled behind the table. This needs to sorted into 2 piles, things to recycle and things to throw away. I still have to finish painting the basement and the dining room, get the fugly wallpaper out of the kitchen and paint there too, put a bed together for the guest room, relocate all the rest of M's crap into the basement (or supervise while he relocates it), and fix a phone jack. Plus I get to leave town for the day with my girlfriends this weekend and do some retail therapy. I think I'll be okay. It's just hard to lose a good friend.

Posted at 12:30 PM

20 October, 2004
I actually told this to the new girlfriend of an ex-boyfriend a few years ago. But I digress. This is not the topic of this entry.

I just thought y'all might be amused to know that despite the fact that I added the traction tape to the stairs and mentioned frequently that since the carpet was removed from them there is still a strip of wood with exposed carpet tacks on each and every stair there has still been an accident. Yeah, Beavis the Wonder Plumber is here and yes, he got his shoe stuck on the strip of wood/rusty nails and yes, the shoe came off and yes, he fell down the stairs again. I'm beginning to think that Beavis must be the main plumber's nephew in law or something.

Other than the fact that there is a big yellow digging machine ripping my front yard to shreds in the rain it is really quiet here in Lola Land today. Perhaps after the EMT's leave I'll have more to report. No promises.

the EMT's are not really here....yet. I'm just assuming that this will not be the only tumble Beavis takes today.

Posted at 10:53 AM

19 October, 2004
Not that I am bored right now, but I have sure had my moments. Since I am a mover and a shaker (dropping it like it's hot on a reg'lar basis) lately and haven't been able to visit my normal sites on this here internet I figured the sites might miss me and my frequent stops. I thought, now who could possibly pick up my slack so these sites aren't run out of business (because I'm a giver like that.) while I'm busy being busy? Well, anybody who stops by here must have a moment of boredom here and there. Maybe they could help the cause! So here is a list of odd and entertaining (and some are both) sites I've been known to use as vastly helpful time suckage tools.

Just plain disturbing and cracks my ass directly up every time. Just don't ask him to do the Macarena because he won't do it. I keep trying and he keeps refusing. Smart chicken.

Please, do yourself a favor. As you peruse the world of Bob please stop by the archives and read this entry http://www.bobfromaccounting.com/9_11/crackwhoresremember.html . For safety reasons I ask that you please refrain from injesting liquids during the reading of the article unless you do happen to find shooting Mountain Dew out of your nose entertaining, and I'd suggest not reading it while your boss is standing close by unless you know he/she/it has a really good sense of humor, like us. This is Lola and I have approved this message.

Damn, some funny stuff.

In case you didn't fear my wrath before I just want you to know that on the "Which Evil Criminal Are You?" quiz I came up a resounding Jack the Ripper. Scared yet? Yeah, me either. But who doesn't like taking these quizzes? You know you'd rather do that than work. So do it.

Here too. Let it be known that according to the Personality Test I am a GURU. Follow me.

Yes, it's a band and yes I know a few of them personally and one of them was one of my dearest and oldest friends from high school but don't hold that against them because they are actually really good. And trust me, I would have told him already if they sucked. A few times. With charts and graphs. But they are beginning to get on radio station playlists around the country so buy the damn cd's so he can get me a really great Christmas present.

I'm a little bit in love with him and therefore have gotten many friends hooked on his music (no less than 3 of them have since written about them in their own blogs) and one of his songs is my ringtone on the cell from hell and he should be sending me residual checks and he is really a lot in love with me and has written many songs about me despite the fact that he has yet to meet me. But the last show of his that I went to I did some serious charming of the bodyguard so I'm getting closer and closer to my goal of a restraining order. Watch your back Mraz. And sing Unfold one more time for mama.

Blogs of people I love.
http://allie3rdperson.blogspot.com/ both funnier and cuter than me
http://3gallonsofcoffee.blogspot.com/ both funnier and cuter than me
http://soonthebandwagon.blogspot.com/ yup, her too AND my own personal heterosexual lifemate. Be jealous, see if I care.
http://mamachef.blogspot.com/ (she knows the digby guy too and has known me since before puberty and don't even think of asking her for embarassing stories about me because I know all of hers too and we love and adore each other anyway.)
http://smashlee.blogspot.com/ smarter, cuter, AND a better car
http://fruitandthedevil.blogspot.com/ (honest to God related to me and still lets me sit at the cool table at Thanksgiving. Also funny as a muthafucka.)
http://chaostraffic.diaryland.com/ (s'up T?)
http://onefuturebutterfly.blogspot.com/ (I consider myself damn lucky to actually know her. In the top 3 list of people I admire most. If I can't be Oprah I wanna be her when I grow up.)

If this doesn't keep you occupied then you are beyond my help, which is just how I like ya. Now I must go. The plumbers are here again and you know I have to keep that guy on a short leash. I did put those glow in the dark traction tape thingies on the stairs this time so Beavis doesn't fall. Mama can't afford a lawsuit. Mama can just barely afford the plumbing.

Posted at 2:10 PM

18 October, 2004
Not really but I wanted to send a little happy shout out to my Goddog.

Happy birthday to yooooooouuuuuu, happy birthday to yooooooouuuuuuu, Happy Birthday dearestdoginthewholewideeverDetectiveMikeLooogggaaaannnn,


Auntie Lola

I hope I don't have to pay residuals to the owners of the Happy Birthday Song catalog. I added extra "o's" and "u's" just in case. Auntie Lo is not a rich woman. But I promise to drop lots of food on the floor next time I come to visit. The good stuff too.

Posted at 3:52 PM


Yeah yeah yeah, I know. Mea culpa and all that good shit. But I really have been busy. Some might say a busy little beaver but they are pre-verts and I try not to listen to them anyway (except when I'm one of them...which is now.) Woohoo. I've been running and running and doing all kinds of stuff to try to prepare this house so it'll survive the winter and fighting with Grandmonster (what else is new) and making nice with Grandmonster (so I can have my way and she thinks it's her idea. I'm a sneaky little shit but at least I'm productive.) and getting on with trying to actually have a life. Plus I've got a new project but I'll say no more until it is well on it's way to being done so stop asking. But I did have an A-FUCKING-MAZING weekend. The kind of weekend you hang onto in your brain for a rainy day's reflection. And since it's raining like a bitch today I figured I'd just reflect here. You don't mind, do you? I didn't think so. Here goes.

So, M does not work on Fridays so my weekend begins when I finally pry his ass out of bed Friday afternoon. I have too much stuff to catch up on that requires him to be out of my way so I don't actually start thowing things at him while he sleeps till early afternoon. But it was an uneventful morning and we'd had a big giant fight that sent various relatives running screaming from the room the night before so I knew he had some serious ass kissing to do that day and he'd wanna start it as early as possible if he knew what was good for him. You don't think the fight was my fault do you? Because you'd be really really wrong. So I got a date night Friday. We went shopping and bought a few Christelmas presents and a few "I am soooo sorry I fucked up and said the wrong thing out loud instead of keeping it in my head like a good husband" presents for me! YEA! I just love it when a plan comes together. Then we went out for seafood, which M hates and I love, and I killed a lobster all in the name of butter distribution. It was good. It was a good night. Then, to make a good thing even gooder, when we got home we realized that M's mother had come to fetch Grandmonster and whisk her away for the evening and BIL had gone to pick up the Princess Protoge and they were gone too! A house to ourselves! What are we to do with that? Go from room to room turning off all the radios and country music wailing, that's what we do! Lovely relaxing evening. *sigh*

Saturday we actually did stuff around the house that needed to be done and I didn't wanna do them alone. He didn't even bitch once. Did I mention that it was a really big fight and he sooooo said the exactly wrong thing, because it was and he did. Then we packed up the dogs and took them to the self serve pet wash place for the first time ever. Let me just say that if you do have a dog or 2 and you do, in fact, wash them at home in the tub or somewhere else, that you should go find a self serve pet wash place real quick like. Everything is right there on hand, 6 shampoos, leave in conditioners, towels that you don't have to wash, drains that someone else cleans, big vacuum tubes that are actually blow dryers, brushes that you don't have to clean OR buy, and puppy deodorant and perfume. All right there. And a tub that has a restraint so you don't have to worry about going to chase one dog down after a daring escape just to find that the other dog is wedged under the dining room table. Plus you can have a big shampoo and water fight right there and you don't even have to clean it up yourself at all. It's quite a time saver and was probably the most entertaining thing I have ever done in a pet store (except for that one time in college but we all agreed that that didn't count). We get the minty fresh clean dogs home with their silky leave in conditioned fur and snuggle down in the covers of the bed and watch movie after movie and eat bowl after bowl of Kettle corn until I pass out from sated exhaustion. Yum. Pure yum.

Since Sunday was a free day that no one had claimed to have any plans for whatsoever I went ahead and claimed it. Use it or lose it, baby. So I got everybody (except Grandmonster. What, am I stupid?) up and dressed and we schlepped our butts to church. I was gonna say "asses" but it didn't seem right in a sentence about church. The sentence after, however, is free game. Great service, the Princess Protoge and BIL both enjoyed themselves and I got BIL signed up for the singles ministry. Let the boy find a girl at church and I might not have to kill him. Then we went to my mother's for lunch. Good food plus I got to raid her house for anything I might want for my redecorating needs. My mom is Martha Stewart....well, except for that whole prison part, and she has more crap in her house for redecortaing than most normal people find in Home Depot. But boy howdy, do I have some cool stuff now. Plus she's having a yard sale this weekend and she is selling a big giant truckload of Grandmonster's crap. That's right folks, this means that a giant truckload of Grandmonster's crap will no longer be in my home. Watch out though. That means the stuff is out there circulating again. It could be coming soon to a home near you.

After lunch and before anybody got on anybody's nerves M, BIL, Princess, and myself left to go to Huber's Orchard and Winery because it is "pick your own pumpkin" season and we wanted to do just that. Princess and I picked out glorious pumpkins on our trek out to the punkin patch (with the caveat that she could pick her own with no opinion from me as long as she could carry it herself back to the hayride wagon and to the checkout. I pay, she carries. Them's the rules. If you don't like them you can get a job and buy your own damn pumpkin.) and then we hit the farmer's market to pick up some fresh apple bread, pecan bread, fresh apple cider, fudge, and a few supthin supthins for my 3's. (I'd say watch your mailboxes but seriously, when have you known me to schlep my ass to the post office this soon. So watch your mailboxes next month or something. But you do have goodies.) Then we plopped down on the grass under a redyelloworange leaved tree and I drank a glass of wine and the rest had cider and we ate some fresh picked apples and had some chedder cheese sticks and listened to the live band play bad covers of G-L-O-R-I-A, and Blues Traveller songs and relfected on the prettiness of the hills of Indiana in October and played a rousing game of "Do you think his wife knew he was wearing those pants when he left the house?". Good damn day. Real good.

We got home and Princess and I curled up in the same bed with the same dogs and read "Junie B. Jones and that meanie Jim's Birthday". I love me some Junie B. The kid cracks me smack up and I do the voices and everything because I am just that good of an aunt. Then we had some Pumpkin ice cream that tastes just like frozen punkin pie and read some Harry Potter until we both dozed off. By the time we woke up it was time for her to go home to her mama's house and thus ends another weekend Chez Auntie Lola and Uncle M. Then to top it off I got to talk to #3ga who I haven't getten to talk to in about forever and I love her! Then I retired to the same bed with the same dogs and watched Deperate Housewives.

That's a great weekend folks. The only way it could have been any better is if Jason Mraz or Al Green came to my house and sang to me about how much they really love and adore me for three days. Even then it'd be a stretch.

Wow. I didn't realize how much fun I had. Writiing this blog is kinda like having a really really great meal and then getting up the next day and remembering the great meal and realizing that THERE ARE LEFTOVERS!!!!! Because everything all relates back to food with me. Shut up.

Posted at 3:40 PM

05 October, 2004
Seems that the first weekend of my new future coincided directly with 3. the weekend a friend of mine came in town with her daughter, 3. the weekend I had custody of Princess Protoge, 3. the weekend the BIG GIANT local art fair is held (the one I wait all year for), and 3. the last weekend we have use of the dumpster to put all the excavations and demolitions from the evil basement. Now I am rethinking this whole keeping the legs thing since I have done so much with them that I hurt beyond any recognition (and I can usually recognize pain at 30 paces) and want to rip a leg off and beat myself unconcious with it. Yet, I'm still smiling and unbelievably (read: fucking fantasitcally and beyond a shadow of a doubt) happy. I don't know how exactly that worked out but I'm damn glad it did.

So you'd think that 2 guys who both work Monday - Friday, one of whom has been bitching for 3 days about how he doesn't want to have to pay for yet another dumpster so we'd better get everything in this one before it goes back, would spend the last weekend of our use of the dumpster would try to shove as much as humanly possible into it as quickly as they could, right? Well, you wouldn't think that if you'd ever spent more than 5 minutes with my own particular husband, but everyone else might. So what did this weekend's dumpster activity look like? So glad you asked. Friday, my mother came over and she and I got down in the basement and started carrying stuff out and shamed the boys into working. They worked till precisely 23 seconds after mom left. Saturday I took Princess Protoge with me since I figured they'd get more work done if she wasn't in their hair, they agreed and said that the rest of the stuff would be out of the basement by the time I got home. Yeah, it wasn't. M's arm hurt apparently. I don't know why the Associated Press didn't pick up this news because it was obviously devastating, but I guess they were all the way at Mt. St. Helen's or the premier of Shark's Tale and by the time they got across the country he'd have taken an Advil or something. Of course after some threatening looks and me coming home with a 2500 (yes that is the correct amount of zeros) count bottle of Ibuprofen from Sam's Club and dropping it square in his lap (I have really good aim) he swore he'd get right on it Sunday morning.

I must have missed the Spring Forward/Fall Back time change again because Sunday morning started around 7pm on planet M. Then he gets home Monday and bitches and throws a 6 year old tantrum on Monday night because he had to do 3 days worth of work in about.....oh.....4 hours. In the dark. And the mold. Schmuck.

It took him about 2 minutes to start whining and throwing fits about having to come home from work to do more work (despite his restful weekend) and then he walked downstairs and realized that I had spent the entire day removing the acoustic tile ceiling and the aluminum frame that held it. Fucker.

Boys are dumb....and they better come home with flowers.

and if I find out he didn't call and apologize to the people he said he did last night I'm gonna kill him. Somebody bake a file cake and bring me a vat of bubble bath.

Posted at 10:00 AM

The Wild Flower
Member of a world famous cult of man devouring she-devils...and damn proud of it
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