I has a blog?

I know, duh.  I haven’t written anything interesting for about two years, but I think about doing that very thing every day.  At least once. Usually more than once.  I think about all these things I want to say and share and then when the time comes to post I don’t remember a darned thing.  I suspect this means what I wanted to post was not all that interesting in the first place but really, why change things up at this late date?

First, here are some great Picasso-ized Star Wars stuff.  Fun!

Next, a good quote for the day from Jessamyn West:
“How can you tell whether or not you have had enough until you’ve had a little too much?”

Next, it’s been so cool here we’ve barely been swimming.  So many years, waiting for a pool, and now it just sits there, sparkling in the sun.  Where I grew up was much further north and summer nights lasted until 10 p.m. there.  Here, not so much.  The sun is just about setting around 8 or 8:30 and really there’s only an hour to enjoy it if you get home at 6:00 because of the trees, angle of the sun, etc. etc. etc.  The dogs lay by it, that’s about it.
Sissy and Lewi lounge by the pool.

It looks inviting, but only if you enjoy freezing your arse off.  I’m too old to enjoy water that is less than about 85 degrees. (That’s 29.4 to you, Az 🙂 )


The last Harry Potter movie is biiiiiig. 2 out of 3 movie tickets sold over the weekend had the words Harry Potter on them.  We haven’t seen it yet, but will once the crowds thin out.

Baby momma and baby update:


That’s actually two weeks ago, haven’t moved my pictures around enough.  Should get a  new one tonight.

yep – tonight:

Siriusly cute baby, wot?

Now, go read this and come back.  It’s a blog entry, gave me tears from laughing.  Here’s a sample:

‘Victor was surprisingly pissed that I’d “wasted money” on an enormous chicken, because apparently he couldn’t appreciate the hysterical value of a 5 foot chicken ringing the doorbell.  Then I said, “Well, at least it’s not towels” and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because that’s when Victor screamed and stormed off, but I knew he was locked in his office because I could hear him punching things in there.  Then I yelled through his door, “It’s an anniversary gift for you, asshole.  Two whole weeks early.  15 YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.”’
That’s as funny as I, Asshole is sometimes.  Maybe I just have a thing about chickens.

In other news:  I’ve gone to two painting classes recently.  Quite fun, because we all drink like fishes while we paint.  Really.  Mimosas in the morning, beer in the after noon, wine in the evening, or any combination thereof.    Now I can say I took a painting class this summer.   Bottom line, tho, is that it was essentially paint by number.  WAY fun if you’ve never painted before, and the results were rather remarkable.  My first one was revolting, and it was mainly a bad pic before I ever got to it, and I tossed it as soon as I got home.  The second one was better, Emerald Bay at Tahoe.  It’s still pretty ugly as far as pictures go but mine (and every one of the others, really) was as good as the teacher’s and I’m keeping the damned thing.
Me, old, fat, and rather three sheets to the wind holding my presssshhhussssss:

So, what’s new with you?

Looky lou

If you are a ‘Game of Thrones’ fan, here’s one of Hitler learning about the season enders.  Spoiler alert if you haven’t seen the last episodes.

And then, there is this compelling Animals Being Dicks site.   You can go through all of them randomly on the site or just check out a few from here.






This one’s for you, KSH


Somtimes ya just gotta ….

This raggedyass little gif says a lot about the state of little boys’ brains.  I love it.

I snagged it via twitter from Zadi Diaz.  I used to think she was a twit but now I think she’s brilliant.  Goes to show you CAN teach an old dog new tricks.  Me, I mean.  Zadi was probably always brilliant and I wasn’t paying enough attention.

Cowboy wisdom

Don’t write a song unless you have something to say.

I like myself better when I’m writing regularly.

I take it not only a day at a time, but a moment at a time, and keep it at that pace. If you can be happy right now, then you’ll always be happy, because it’s always in the now.

If I had the chance to do it all over again, I’d do it exactly the same. Wrong or right, it’s my life. Sounds like a song, doesn’t it?

Ninety-nine percent of the world’s lovers are not with their first choice. That’s what makes the jukebox play.

Sometimes you’re fooling around on the guitar and suddenly you just played a piece of a new song and it wakes you up. You think, What was that? I just wrote a song. Of course, then you can’t remember it.

My doctor tells me I should start slowing it down — but there are more old drunks than there are old doctors so let’s all have another round.

All from Willie Nelson

My new favorite saying

… is …

That’s like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end.

This came from Nicole Knepper’s blog (link below):

“Political Correctness is a doctrine fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous mainstream media which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end.”
Read more: http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/moms-who-drink-swear/2011/04/the-clean-end-of-a-turd.html#ixzz1KTtf157C


And, speaking of turds, I remember years and years ago my friend Kim Chamberlain argued with me about how to spell turd.  She was convinced it was tird and got pretty nasty about it.  I tried to set her to rights but we had no internets back in the olden days and turd wasn’t even in the dictionary.  I looked.
But her argument was, “It’s like third.  But without the ‘h’.”
Whatever.  God, why do I remember things like that?  Also, how did _I_ know how to spell it?    Read it somewhere, I suppose.

Welcome to Panic Central

Um, we now have 37 RSVP’s in the affirmative.  Did I mention I’m not that great with crowds?

Looks more and more like it’s going to rain buckets.   If that happens we’ll have to ditch the tables and just plop everyone into rows of folding chairs crammed around the furniture.  What should I do with all the balloons?  Do people mind being crammed together like sardines at a party where they don’t all know each other and the age ranges are from 16 to 70+? With no booze?  Oh yeah.  This is hilarious.  Frankly, I think there WILL be a little booze, if only in the hostess and the hostess’ helper.  Thank jeebus for Corey, she is an industrial-strength organizer.  But she can’t make the house any bigger or control the weather.  Hey, internet, you want to come, too?  Why not?  The more the merrier.  🙂  HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Yep, losin’ it.