I would have ruled this world too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!
Thursday, March 29, 2007


When I was a little kid, I ran away once for about 5 or 6 hours. I hung out in the woods till I got bored and hungry and finally went home. And then my mother stopped just shy of killing me. That cured me of running away from home.

But now here I am all these years later and I'm thinking about it again. I think about running away every single day. The kind of running away where you pack the car up with whatever it will hold, washing the dishes, locking up the house and never coming back. Even worse, my child is totally down with it. I believe she could be ready to go in about 2 to 3 hours' time. I don't think I'd even need that long.

And when I think about doing it, that little person inside of me that has an impulse disorder gets stirred up. "do it", it whispers. When I leave work and cross the bridge over I-85, something stirs in me. Instead of going straight, all I would have to do is make a left........

The only thing is, wherever you go, there you are.


Wednesday, March 28, 2007


Must blog. Must blog. Must blog.

I just haven't been up to anything interesting lately. Things have been blissfully boring. I’ve been burning some CDs for a friend of mine. When I’m not doing that, I’ve been reading or hanging around outside in the nice weather. I saw my very first butterfly of the season today. YAY!

Otherwise, I haven’t seen anybody being a jerk, an asshole, or a loser. Nobody has said anything stupid or out of the way. I haven’t gotten fired. Sparkle isn’t driving me too crazy and all animals are doing great. I’m sure President Bush has probably done something really stupid, but nothing that is being reported to us. I don’t have anything to complain about! God, I’ve got to get out more often!

That’s okay though….I am sure this is just the calm before the storm. It always is.


Monday, March 26, 2007


Monday again. *sigh* And nothing is really happening except that Iran is being an asshole to Britain. Everyone says not to worry, but something about this worries me. I just feel like something is going to happen because of this. Nothing GOOD, mind you.

Also, we find out officially today what killed Anna Nicole Smith! Whoop de doo. It is endlessly fascinating to me that people are endlessly fascinated with this story.

I wish it was still the weekend!


Friday, March 23, 2007


When I left work this afternoon, I hit a wrinkle in the fold of the Universe and drove directly into the Parallel Universe of Insanity. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, though I did notice that traffic was unusually violent. Lots of too-fast driving, honking horns and death-defying sprints to beat changing stoplights. No, things didn't start getting weird until I got to the grocery store.

I get behind a black Pathfinder that is traveling through the parking lot at approximately 3 m.p.h. Oh, I was patient, very patient, for about 10 seconds. Finally I'm like OH MY GOD I've seen great-grandmas with bunions go faster using walkers and canes. I wait for the right moment and then blaze around the Pathfinder. The reason the woman was going so slow is because she was reading! While driving! I blazed through the shopping center parking lot and got a parking space. I trudged towards the grocery store entrance but had to stop and wait before crossing over.....because here comes that %&#*$& Pathfinder, still going 3 m.p.h., bitch still reading. She sure wasn't speeding up just because someone was waiting to cross over....or stop, either, for that matter. I felt my patience give a little shudder, but hey, no problem!

Once in the store, I had yogurt on my list....there was a lady parked right in front of the yogurt display, staring slack-jawed at the selection. Not comparing labels or reading ingredients, just staring. I wait a moment for her to move on...and she doesn't. I finally move over next to her. No response. Finally I start reaching up on the shelf around her to get a few things of yogurt, and saying "excuse me". She finally comes to life then, looking at me like haveyoulostyourfreakingmindyoufool? I smiled sweetly and chalked it up to schizophrenia. No problem!

Until I move on and the aisle is blocked by another woman, just standing there staring! Not checking her list or even looking at any products, just staring. Okay, things are starting to get weird. My nerves are starting to grind against each other.

I get all my stuff except the Pepperidge Farm stuffing, which I cannot find to save my life. About this time a voice comes booming over the loudspeaker "DERRICK, NEED CUSTOMER SERVICE AT THE MEAT COUNTER". About two minutes later I hear someone howling loudly back at the meat counter "YOOOOO HOO! I STILL NEED HELP!" I was starting to not believe this shopping trip.

And I still couldn't find that Pepperidge Farm stuffing! I'm wandering the aisles and I'm really getting stressed out. On the PA system, U2 is droning over and over "I stiiiiiiiiill haven't foooooound what I'm looking forrrrrrrr" and something in my head snaps. I pull my cart over to the side and assess the situation. What is happening here? Is it possible someone has slipped something into my drink before I left work? Is Alan Funt Jr lurking around somewhere? I've got to get out of here.

The Pepperidge Farm stuffing is finally located on the canned vegetable aisle. WTF but at least I found it, right? I pay for my stuff and rush for my car.....but not before having to wait a second time for Ms. Pathfinder, still cruising the parking lot at 3 m.p.h. with her eyes glued to her reading material.

I was never so glad to get home as I was today.

Labels: ,

Thursday, March 22, 2007


I couldn't find a "Full Service" station, so I pulled up at a repair garage and popped the hood. Hoss immediately comes walking out "can I help you?" I smiled as sincerely as I could and told him "no, I was just hearing a knocking sound under the hood while I was driving and I was going to check it out." Since this is North Carolina, Hoss of course was not going to let a helpless and brainless woman look under the hood of a car. THAT'S MAN WORK! I stood back respectfully while he finished opening the hood. The first words out of his mouth was "it smells like a barn in here".
Me: "A barn?" I step closer. "Ewwww, yeah,....EWWWW!"
Hoss digs around and digs deep. He gets his flashlight. And sure enough, he hits pay dirt. Out he comes with a nice sized partially decayed dead mouse. I immediately go into histrionics "OH MY GOD, I can't believe that THING was in my car! How did it get there? Ewwwwwww! " Hoss is holding the mouse carcass by the tip of the tail with the actual body laying in his grease rag and he's laughing, a jolly but phlegmy sound. By this time, Jughead, Goober and Moose have decided to come check out the action. Jughead says "Day-um!" and Moose is like "You mean you won't smellin' that thang?" Ol' Moose has a brain in that head. "No, I never smelled anything!" I say, in a convincing "I can't believe this" voice. Goober just stood there smoking....looking at the mouse and then looking at me, then back at the mouse.

Finally Hoss is like, "well, start the car and let me hear that knocking sound." I start up the car and of course its purring like a kitten. "Everything seems to be running right along", Moose says eventually. "I know!" I say. "It must have been the mouse causing it. Thank you sir so much, please let me pay you something!" He refused, as all southern gentlemen do, but he didn't fight too hard when I pressed $5 into his hand.

So I didn't have to deal with any carcass, smell, maggots, and anything of the sort. Hoss took care of the whole business and didn't even charge me a corpse disposal fee. And Hoss was $5 richer. Jughead, Goober and Moose got a bit of entertainment to break up their day. This was a total win/win situation for everyone involved. Except for the poor mousie, of course.


Tuesday, March 20, 2007


I know I am just setting myself up for more killing of bunny jokes from Stew and Greg.....but I have to say it.

There's something dead in my car.

When I am driving down the road, every once in awhile I catch a whiff of carcass. All my cats are accounted for. It was really cold a few nights back....I'm worried that something of the "smaller than a cat" animal persuasion crawled up into the motor of my car.

I don't know what to do. I'm not popping the hood to look. What if its a bunny?

If I can find a "Full Service" gas station, do you think that is something they could check out? I figure I'll just pull up and say, "Can you check under the hood, please?" and just wait to see what happens.

Can you Febreeze a car engine?




I don't know what to write. So here are some random pictures.

Here are my great grandparents:

Here are some well-endowed bikers:

Some unlucky cereal:

Angelina Jolie should check out this sale:

Alicia Keys and John Mayer. You can feel the friendship in this pic:

I'm also feeling the love between these two squirrels:

Some babies jamming out:

Charley Patton's (bluesman) grave:

What was going on before he killed the wabbit!

Carry on, my friends.


Monday, March 19, 2007


December, 1971

After Christmas settled down that year, I went to my neighbor Bonita's house to check out what all she got for Christmas. I had gotten a doll for Christmas, but true to childhood form, I can't even remember what kind of doll it was. All I remember is HER doll.

She got a Chrissy doll.

Chrissy was a short-haired doll. When you grabbed a section of her hair and pulled, you could make her hair long! Like sooper dooper long! Everyone wanted a Chrissy doll, but Bonita actually got one.

"Oh my God!" I asked. "Can I hold her?" Bonita said "Well maybe for a minute," and handed me the Chrissy doll, in short-hair mode. "Can I make her hair grow?" I asked.
Bonita glared at me. "I GUESS so!"

I felt the proper place on top of Chrissy's head and pulled. Nothing. No long hair coming out.

"NO, you gotta do it like this!" Bonita grabbed the doll from me and YANKED Chrissy's hair long. OOOOOH, it needed some muscle behind it! She yanked again and Chrissy's long hair went screaming back into her head. Then she handed Chrissy back to me.

I grabbed Chrissy's hair and YANKED, and sure enough, here came the hair! I cannot tell you how glorious it felt to yank that doll's hair. If you ever had one of these dolls, you know what a gratuitous feeling it was. It wasn't a smooth yank, the hair was fighting you just a little bit. These dolls were extremely popular, mostly because they satisfied something very deep and primal in the soul of the female child. The urge that has been there since the dawn of time.....the urge to yank some bitch's hair out.


Friday, March 16, 2007


Yesterday was so beautiful driving home. It was a pleasant spring day and the flashing bank sign read a whopping 236 degrees. That sign might need some recalibratin' before we hit 500 degrees in July.

As soon as the words "I think we've seen the last of cold weather!" tumbled out of my mouth, the weather changed. I'm sorry all you people up north. Its my fault. Ya'll are going to get a whole bunch of snow. We're going to get a whole bunch of rain - up to 2 1/2 inches. And its going to be cold on top of the rainy. Next time I'll keep my mouth shut.


Thursday, March 15, 2007


I was reading a blog post over at BIFF SPIFFY'S blog about teenage pranks and it was pretty funny. It got me to thinking about some of my teenage pranks.

Ya'll might remember when I posted about spray-painting John Bonham's (Led Zeppelin) "symbol" all over the road with my friends when he died. And then signing a contract with them....in blood....that when the other Led Zeppelin members die, we would do the same.....no matter how old we got. Yeah, I still worry about this. I hope they all die on weeknights so I can sneak down to the main road and get the job done without being arrested. Kids, never sign a contract in blood! It can cause a lot of moral dilemma when you're older and wiser.

Another thing we used to do sometimes at night was to drive by a local pond and coax a duck into the car with us. Then we'd head onto the busy strip and wait for the inevitable stoplight. All you had to do was put the window down just a little bit and everyone in the intersection would hear the duck raising hell. QUAAAAAACK! People would be looking at us and laughing, or looking at us like we were insane. The best part was looking back at THEM like THEY were insane. Yes, we have a duck in our car, and what of it? You mean you don't have one? To crack up laughing was not allowed until we left the intersection.

And yes, before you call PETA, we always returned the duck to the pond, safe and sound. You couldn't drive around too long with a loud-ass quacking duck in your car without your nerves falling to pieces anyway.

Another time, several of us got the grand idea to pick up one of those caution light thingies that they put at construction sites. They look like sawhorses and they have the yellow blinking light on them. So we're riding around with a big yellow blinking light in the backseat (this was back in the day of Ford LTDs). Those things are a hell of a lot brighter when they're in your car, believe me. And after awhile, of course, we spot a cop. QUICK! THROW SOMETHING OVER THAT LIGHT! One of my friends threw himself and his jacket over the yellow light. His whole body immediately lit up like a flashing Big Bird. There was no stopping that light. Yeah, I'm sure there was a battery in the thing, but no one is going to stop to figure it out when the cops are around.

I don't know how we got away without the cop seeing us. I seriously think he just ignored us. He was probably like "Do I really, really want to know?" and decided it wasn't worth his coffee break to find out. Cops back then were just cooler than they are now. So we got away. And as soon as we were out of sight, we were dumping that thing by the roadside. It didn't make it back to the construction site.

And finally, there was something about Stew and a goldfish. Stew, you are going to kill me but I can't remember the deal about the goldfish! All I remember is using my Microsoft Paint to put that woman's head that you like on the body of a goldfish. And I am sure that porn was involved somehow if Stew was involved. What was it about goldfish? Look, I even saved the picture!


Sunday, March 11, 2007


Here's how the Christine saga unfolded:

Sparkle found out about the phone call. When I wasn't paying attention, she got my phone and called it. She didn't get the lady, but she got her voice mail. The girl's name is Lisa. So Sparkle leaves her an ultra-polite message telling her that this is her mother's phone and her mother's name is not Christine, etc. etc. Don't call back. I was praising Sparkle for her good manners when Lisa calls back:
"LOOK, Sweetie, I KNOW what Christine's voice sounds like and that is CHRISTINE!"

So then my daughter, who has been having some real anger issues lately, calls her back again. I heard this conversation myself....and so did half of the neighborhood. "OMG DO YOU NOT THINK PEOPLE EVER CHANGE THEIR PHONE NUMBER? MY MOM HAS HAD THIS PHONE FOR A %&*$&#* YEAR! STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH AND QUIT CALLING!" By this time I am holding my head and basically freaking out. My lovely daughter and her potty mouth.

But lo and behold....she didn't call back! At least, not for like 12 hours. Then she calls back. I see the number pop up and I'm like...oh no not again. I sure wasn't going to answer it. So then my phone lets me know I have a message. I listen to it and an extremely remorseful and embarrassed sounding Lisa issues a heartfelt apology. She's says, "I really thought you were Christine, she's a real witch I've been trying to get revenge on. I am so sorry and I'll never bother you again."

ALL RIGHT.....which one of you called her?


Friday, March 09, 2007


Remember back when I posted about Christine.....the person who owned my cell phone before I did? Well, I still get the occasional call with people asking for her.....except now you can tell it is usually the same woman. You can hear the disbelief in her voice when I tell her I'm not Christine, I just have the phone number that Christine used to have. Twice now she has accused me of being Christine's "other personality". WTF????

So this woman just now called....its not even 7:30 a.m. yet, asking for Christine. I said "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." And she's like "Oh sure, right. This must be your other personality." and then without stopping she says "Let me tell you one thing...if you keep FUCKING with me I am going to FUCK with you." And hangs up.

People, I don't need this. Why does stuff like this always happen to me? I'm tired of this and I don't understand what this woman's problem is. Do you think you can explain it to her? Here you go....<censored>. You have my blessing. Just please let her know I'M NOT CHRISTINE. And not to THREATEN ME!

Addedum: I have now de-published the telephone number.


Wednesday, March 07, 2007


I noticed Sparkle's old prom pictures were getting a lot of hits, so I decided to check it out and find her pictures on Google. Well, by God, I started having so much fun that the original quest was all but forgotten. So I saved some pictures and made up some rules so that YOUR prom experience will be the best ever!

Rule One - Don't be trashy!

And while we're on the subject, don't be a HO either!

In the same vein....remember, fellows, you're there to have fun, NOT to PIMP!

Girls, I know you want to show off all your bling on the special night, but try not to over-accessorize:

Remember, girls, if you are elected Prom Queen, at least TRY to be gracious to your King:

Even if you AREN'T elected King and Queen....be gracious!!! Roll out the Yellow Bath Towel of Specialness for the actual winners!

Find out ahead of time what your Prom "Theme" is.....and try to talk the Student Council out of it if necessary:

Try not to go too far astray from the theme though.....

If you live below the Mason-Dixon line....try to resist the temptation, ladies. For God's sake, please resist.

DON'T make fun of your parents when they try to give you tips for prom attire:

Your parents just aren't ready for the latest new-fangled prom trends, respect this!

But you don't want to look like an old-fashioned birthday cake either!

Girls, if you find yourself in a heap o' trouble....you really might want to think about skipping the prom....

Also girls, BE ASSERTIVE! Let your date know he better show up on time, or else!!!

On the other hand, Guys, you have the right to insist that your date be clean, sober, and off of the Quaaludes.....

The Prom is your special night! Even if you are the biggest GEEK that ever lived, get your geeky girlfriend and go have a GREAT TIME!!!!!

Labels: ,

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


I'm still in the grips of Writer's Block, so I'll do like any other sensible person in my predicament, and make fun of ugly people instead:

We'll begin the fun with this hideously ugly picture of Brian Jones:

What the hell? I was only 3 or 4 years old, but if you had shown me this picture even I would have known an intervention was needed.

Or how about this one? Paul Stanley from Kiss:

My eyes! My eyes! Help me!

And then, last but not least, we have....Rose McGowan:

OMG! Girlfriend can only be about 28 years old! Whatever's she's smokin', I'm not standing downwind from her.


Monday, March 05, 2007


Did I blog about this before?

I read this book about the brain. There were all kinds of interesting tidbits about the brain in it....but this tidbit has totally ruined everything.

It has been proven in brain surgery patients that were conscious (but I am hoping were anesthetized) that prodding certain areas of the brain can produce a deja-vu experience. From this the following hypothesis has formed: (I'm totally paraphrasing here)

The brain, of course has two hemispheres. These hemispheres are connected by.....um....connectors. These connectors relay info back and forth between the hemispheres so you get "the full story" of whatever it is your brain is processing. It has been theorized that deja-vu is nothing more than a temporary lag problem in the hemisphere connectors.

So this means you see a tree with your left brain. Your left brain processes it and sends necessary info to the right brain. BUT....for whatever reason, there is a connector lag. Therefore you process it as.....
Left brain: Oh a tree!
Right brain: Oh a tree! I've seen this shit before somewhere, maybe even in another life!

What do you think about this? I've had soooo many deja-vu experiences, and now they're going to tell me I just have faulty connectors??????

It's depressing. I need some magic.

And I still don't remember if I have blogged about it before.


Sunday, March 04, 2007


How dogs are when they first come to live with STEW:

How dogs become after they've been with Stew awhile:


Thursday, March 01, 2007


Lightning Boy manages to piss off both Steve Vai AND the Devil from the Crossroads with one guitar solo!