You Think a Charly Horse Is BAD?!

My alarm went off at 5 and I shut it off and laid back down. I wasn't going to go in to work terribly early today because Dad needs to see the Oncologist in Kearney and I'm going to drive. We need to see about getting some fluid off Dad's lungs too so...it might be that we even stay overnight. Anywayyyy I laid back down and pretty soon I hear Mark say, "You need to make sure Andrew gets up for football practice...I have a leg cramp". WTF???? How long could this leg cramp last really?? Andrew gets up around 6:20 but uhhhh...yahhhhh. I'll do that. Since I was AWAKE now I decided to go get the cinnamon roll dough ready and blah blah blah a few other things but still...that leg cramp thing...hmmmmmm yeahhh

Hic Burp Fizz Ahhh

I just poured myself a TEQUIZA with SPICY V8 and picked up a still steaming M&M cookie from a plate and I'm going upstairs to take a bath and read my latest book, BEST FRIENDS by Martha Moody. I picked out this book becuase I liked the authors name.

We Got Dingy Bells and a Big Ass Seat!

We got our BIKES! and the dingle bell WORKS like a MOFO! Justin at Kearney Cycling & Fitness gave us a "deal deal" winkity wink wink...NOT! Hell, it used to be easy to get a "deal deal" but now...man does it take some time! Well, the Tahoe didn't break down and we shopped and ate ourselves silly. We laughed soooo hard at a WENDY'S drive through the poor idiot who took our order is probably scarred for life. How many people owe their "scarring" in life to us. Quite a few I'm thinking. Katie probably said it best when we questioned Katie how she could find us in the big loud Target store. She said, "I have figured out I don't have to look for you guys, I just have to listen." Well...that just makes me wanna hop on my big ass bike seat and peddle down the road dinging my bell as loud as I can!!

Hot As HELL and Smelling Like Ass We WIN

Cindy and I went to Kearney yesterday. It was a trip to remember. S U R P R I S E!! Isn't it always. First we take off about 9:30 and Cindy says, We have a few errands to run first and oh yah we have to be back by "4 pm". Whatever...it was still a shopping trip. We started in giggling right away and Cindy about oopsied on our way to the Furnas County Courthouse. We picked up our schtuff and off we went. In Ho Ridge we stopped off and "got parts" and off we went. In Kearney the first thing we did was decide to eat. OLD CHICAGO it was. We had pizza and Pete's Wicked Strawberry Ale and it was GOOD! Well, One thing escalated into another and we each ended up ordering a TREK 7200 hybrid bike. Now we can bike the gravel roads. yah...I'll probably bike the gravel roads alright...ON MY FACE!! What the hell was I thinking?? I mean...the bike has a dingy bell on the handlebars for GODS SAKE! They will be in in 1 week. On the way home, just a bit late, the TAHOE pissed out on us. Luckily it died beside a big assed grove of slightly decaying yet still leaf supporting trees as it was FREAKING 112 DEGREES OUTSIDE!! Cindy and I promptly laid down on the buffalo grass, head on purses, ass to the highway, leg on knee and laughed and giggled and called Cindy's brother to come bring us a blanket and a 30 pack...of which he politely declined. The time had arrived. We had to make the call. Cindy's hubby was in the serious midst of setting up a tractor pull. I mean...he was doing it...And Cindy was supposed to be helping. Instead, here we were. Sweating, patting down two horses in the field next to us and getting stinky horse wound salve on our hands. Cindy's beloved had to go unload 2 or 3 tractors in the hot hot hot sun...from a trailer in yet another town, drive like a mofo to find us...far far far away stranded in the hot hot hot sun without beer and smelling like ass. Then when he found us he was nice and didn't beat us or berate us but instead put the TAHOE on the trailer and hauled our stinky asses to the FURNAS COUNTY FAIR where we made the pull fashionably late. There is a shitload more to say but I'm past remembering. I'm posting this a week late.

Wet and Wild Wannabe

Sometimes, after the nightly bath, the routine picking up my book out of the Calgon take me away soft and sweet smelling water, the toweling off...me AND the book, I go and lay on my bed and wonder why it seems such an effort to get back up and comb my hair. I want to let it dry as it wishes. I know I would indeed regret foregoing this procedure. I also know for a fact that if I did not comb my fine as frog fur hair, that would be the night one of my kids would have to go to the ER with abdominal pain, or an unexpected guest would arrive, or the house would burst into flames and I would have to be evacuated by the firemen, who would all be flabbergasted at my limp, yet wild locks of mousy brown. I want only to lie here on my rumpled quilt with the fan blowing on high, with a nice beer in my hand and some music playing and my hair wet and wild and standing on end. Eventually though, I'll waddle my lazy self into the bathroom, hunt down a brush, take care of the feathers I call hair, and then go kiss the boys goodnight. My radio doesn't work so nix the music. I'm too tired for beer so I guess I'll brush my snags and hit the hay.

2 Thumbs UP

I just finished watching a wonderful show. No...not man with 1 eye or frozen bone Sally or such as that (although I did rather enjoy a show about elephant man disease quite recently). No I watched YESTERDAY starring LELETI KHUMALO among others. It is a film about a woman who contracts AIDS from her shit head husband and must decide what to do with her daughter named, Beauty. I love the show because it's all subtitled and listening to the IsiZulu dialect is like listening to water flowing over smooth rocks...in other words...music. Even though the subject is sad, I still felt relaxed watching it. I liked the camera angles and the way the sound was mixed. Most everything was unhurried, simple and seemed to say, less is more. Watch this movie.

Shelley...Your Kids Are So Damn Cute!

Time Flies When You Are Having Fun!

Okay, I don't think I told you about the parrot did I? Oh well...here goes again. The other day I was up in the "parrot room" after hours. Kinky huh? I was trying to get the damn bird to say "Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!" and he was just laughing like a serial killer and saying "Tickle tickle tickle tickle!" over and over and over and over. So somehow he gets on my finger, on my hand and then on my shoulder. If only I had an eye patch and a hook! Arghhh matey! Swab the poop deck! Well, I decided to take the little turd over to a wooden chair and put him on that while I worked on putting freight away. So, I go over to the chair and lean over close to the top so the bird can just hop off and perch. Well, the bird just hopped up to my other shoulder and ta daaa kept doing that. I then bent over so he would have a closer look. Much to my chagrin...he hopped lower and perched in the middle of my BACK! Okay...I tried to straighten up...and did you know parrots have CLAWS?!! They do. Anyway, I'm cussing like a sailor, Boots (the parrot) is screaming "Tickle! Tickle! Tickle! like a deranged Auntie back from safari and finally I get down on my hands and knees all the while saying please God don't let this be on our video camera. The little SOB wouldn't get off my back...so then by damn and hell I'd had ENOUGH! I stopped, dropped and rolled and the little feathered shit hopped off, I scooped him up and plopped him on the chair. All this done in ONLY 40 minutes. Now...if that video makes Google I better get royalties!

Walking For A Cause...that's BE-CAUSE I Wanna

Ever wonder what girls really do when they tell you they are going for an afternoon stroll down a dusty dirty country road under the hot hot sun of July?? Yah...they walk. They might walk(even with a limp or a waddle it's still officially called a walk) with a copper mug full of Moscow Mule clasped tightly in their grimy little hands. Limes floating in the potent magic potion brine of ginger beer and vodka only taste better when you are walking with your friend and her two dogs (one butt ass ugly...the other a dedicated crotch sniffer...the dogs I mean).

If You Do The Macarena It Better Be GOOD or Else!

My kid got kicked out of his baseball game. Not only the one he was playing in but his next scheduled legion game. Here is the scene. Andrew bunts...a most beautiful bunt...and his first he tells me later. He gets to first and then manages to steal to second base on a catchers mishap. It's a tie game...we are in extra innings. There are now runners on 3rd and 2nd. Andrew, in his excitement, does a bad bad thing. Yes, you guessed it...a tiny rendition of The Macarena...whilst standing on 2nd base. Only moments later he is kicked out. Yes, I said kicked out not thrown out because he strayed off base and was caught...kicked out...and I also said macarena not massacre. "I was trying to lighten up the mood" sayeth my son with downcast eyes. good grief