IT'S HOT! You're welcome. I realize how appreciative you must be to hear that. I am sick of summer. Not just this year, since I was maybe 20. SUMMER used to be the hallowed time between the hell of one grade in school to another. Now is it that period of time during the year where no one should have to move. I don't mean relocate, I mean move.
I am one of the lucky people in this state, which we well now call The Lone Cauldron of Hell, with a pool in my backyard. The pool water is 96 degrees. That is not refreshing. That is a place to wash clothes or have a bath. I haven't even seen a cloud this summer that I recall. Birds sit on my pool coping and reach for water. It's sad. Is this global warming? Is this just one of those summers we will talk about like 1980? Whatever....sick of it weather gods. Give me a cloud....a rain shower.....a day below, not 100. 90. Yes, I'm picky. Don't see the difference between 99 and 100. Or 95 and 100. Let's just get cool for a couple of days? A cloud? A huge umbrella to cover the Cauldron?
I am getting in my car and driving until I find cool air. North, just heading that way. How hard can it be to cross the Canadian border and hang out in cold air for a day or two? Or until October? Or forever. It is this time of year I become convinced I will never wear jeans or anything with long sleeves ever again in my life. It seems absurd to open my closet and see a coat. Boots in my closet? BOOTS? When on earth did I need my feet to be warm? GLOVES? I don't need gloves. Neck scarf to... what? Did I ever wear that? Was my neck cold? WHEN? I would so go back to the day when I thought, "wow, my neck feels cold."
I KNOW, someday I will be going, brrrrrr, so cold. But I won't be complaining. I will be thrilled. THRILLED to suck in some cold hair and see my breath. To shiver, just for a minute before the car gets warm. Throw an extra blanket on my bed. LOVE THAT.
When we finally get that first cold front. Not the one that drops the temperature 10 or 20 degrees. The one that sends the breath of winter full force in your face, the noise you hear will be me. I will be outside yelling my approval at the world, at God, at Jack Frost. At whatever force makes me shiver. I love you.
Lillybell
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
BORED, LET'S TALK ABOUT PANTS AND HATS
Third day on the heating pad she lost her mind. It was sad and we will miss her. Her last thoughts were of pants and hats.
What is up and down with pants? And underwear? SO CONFUSED. I have seen men with their pants so low that their entire ass is showing in fancy shiny underwear. How can that be comfortable and what does it say? They fashion is a statement. Does this say, "I am an ass?"
Then there are the men who wear pants and shorts so big they look like they are shrinking or have the shortest calves on earth. It is impossible to wear these pants without constantly pulling them up. Buy some that fit? That can't be fun, constantly pulling up your pants. AND, what is with checking to see if your penis is still there? Is there something we women don't know? Do they take a vacation...well, I know for a fact they do, but they usually stay attached to the owner. I see men, no not a crotch watcher, who apparently are stricken with fear from time to time that something has happened to their penis in their ginormous pants. If you wore pants that fit, Mr. Penis might stay put? I don't know I can't answer for this gender.
Can't speak for women either. All I can say is who in the hell thought it was a good plan to wear underwear designed to be in the crack of your ass? Do you not know that generations of women longed for underwear that didn't end up there? If you don't want, heaven forbid, panty lines. DON'T WEAR THEM. Go commando. Seriously.....it is so much better than having something up your butt all day. GIRLS, get a grip and not on that thing in your ass.
HATS: How long is this going to go on? Backwards hats? OK, let's imagine the history of hats. People out tending the fields figured out something on your head with a wide brim would shade you a bit. BRILLIANT. Hats, everyone had them. Kept the sun out of your eyes and from roasting you like a pig on a spit. Go in the house, take off the hat. People could see your face and eyes....it was polite.
Then they really became a fashion statement. It was formal to wear a hat. Women wore stupid things on their heads throughout history. Men wore those cool fedoras when I was a kid. Womens hats were fashion optional by the time I grew up. Thank goodness. I hate being uncomfortable. Hats must have been a pain. I never wear anything tucked in. Why? it is coming out as soon as I move my arms. Wasted effort. I can see me trying to keep a hat pinned on my head. No, it would come off first, then heels.
Somewhere along this time line baseball players learned they needed their eyes shaded but their peripheral vision clear. We got baseball caps. Then I don't know what happened. One day they were everywhere. People gave them away with logos and sayings and company names on them. First they were sneered at, "gimme caps".
One day every man wore one backwards and that was it. Done. Backwards hat phenomenon. Now we have the backwards hat, the sideways hat, the front hat with the bill pulled so low you look like a thief. I'm sorry....what? I love the backwards hat with the sprigs of hair popping out the front. It looks like birds nest material I used to buy for finches. I like the sideways hat because I enjoy a giggle.
Inside, take off your hat. I don't know why, because I said so. I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY THAT.
UP NEXT: Hoodies and backwards sunglasses. Cars with wheels more valuable than the car itself. What up with that?
Yo,
LillytothebelltotheBluesfashizzle
What is up and down with pants? And underwear? SO CONFUSED. I have seen men with their pants so low that their entire ass is showing in fancy shiny underwear. How can that be comfortable and what does it say? They fashion is a statement. Does this say, "I am an ass?"
Then there are the men who wear pants and shorts so big they look like they are shrinking or have the shortest calves on earth. It is impossible to wear these pants without constantly pulling them up. Buy some that fit? That can't be fun, constantly pulling up your pants. AND, what is with checking to see if your penis is still there? Is there something we women don't know? Do they take a vacation...well, I know for a fact they do, but they usually stay attached to the owner. I see men, no not a crotch watcher, who apparently are stricken with fear from time to time that something has happened to their penis in their ginormous pants. If you wore pants that fit, Mr. Penis might stay put? I don't know I can't answer for this gender.
Can't speak for women either. All I can say is who in the hell thought it was a good plan to wear underwear designed to be in the crack of your ass? Do you not know that generations of women longed for underwear that didn't end up there? If you don't want, heaven forbid, panty lines. DON'T WEAR THEM. Go commando. Seriously.....it is so much better than having something up your butt all day. GIRLS, get a grip and not on that thing in your ass.
HATS: How long is this going to go on? Backwards hats? OK, let's imagine the history of hats. People out tending the fields figured out something on your head with a wide brim would shade you a bit. BRILLIANT. Hats, everyone had them. Kept the sun out of your eyes and from roasting you like a pig on a spit. Go in the house, take off the hat. People could see your face and eyes....it was polite.
Then they really became a fashion statement. It was formal to wear a hat. Women wore stupid things on their heads throughout history. Men wore those cool fedoras when I was a kid. Womens hats were fashion optional by the time I grew up. Thank goodness. I hate being uncomfortable. Hats must have been a pain. I never wear anything tucked in. Why? it is coming out as soon as I move my arms. Wasted effort. I can see me trying to keep a hat pinned on my head. No, it would come off first, then heels.
Somewhere along this time line baseball players learned they needed their eyes shaded but their peripheral vision clear. We got baseball caps. Then I don't know what happened. One day they were everywhere. People gave them away with logos and sayings and company names on them. First they were sneered at, "gimme caps".
One day every man wore one backwards and that was it. Done. Backwards hat phenomenon. Now we have the backwards hat, the sideways hat, the front hat with the bill pulled so low you look like a thief. I'm sorry....what? I love the backwards hat with the sprigs of hair popping out the front. It looks like birds nest material I used to buy for finches. I like the sideways hat because I enjoy a giggle.
Inside, take off your hat. I don't know why, because I said so. I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY THAT.
UP NEXT: Hoodies and backwards sunglasses. Cars with wheels more valuable than the car itself. What up with that?
Yo,
LillytothebelltotheBluesfashizzle
WE ARE ALL SUPPOSED TO BE ON ANTI DEPRESANTS
Watching the news to see if Congress has figured out what to do. Trying to decide what to do about speaking Mandarin in case I have to. Those dip thongs are a bitch. Instead what I am hearing about is a Royal Wedding. She is 13th in line to the throne. OH NO. Kate apparently got the silly hat memo.
Then they covered the anniversary of Son of Sam's first killing. I KNOW. Let's not ever mention serial killers again, OK? Seems silly to talk about them. Remember the names of their victims? No. Remember their names. Oh yeah. Dahmer, Manson, Berkowitz, Speck, Bundy, Gacy. Unfortunately, the list could go on and on. Put Berkowitz on the news to tell the world he found Jesus and he's sorry. I think we should let him keep that between him and The Lord.
But that is not the reason for this post. We are all supposed to be on anti depressants. Really. I just figured in out. That's why the world is so screwed up. The Pharmcos aren't making enough money. Heard a commercial that started out talking about back pain and that pain in your knees and joints. The solution according to the commercial. An anti depressant. WHAT? I realize depression comes with it's share of physical pain but back pain, knee pain equals anti depressant? Hmmm. I cut my finger, better double up on those anti depressants. The next drug that was advertised was Viagra. "If you get an erection lasting 4 hour...your lady needs to be on anti depressants".
Here's the point. Chemical support is great for those who need it. Great for WHEN you need it. Brain chemicals are not supposed to solve every freaking ailment. My theory. Pharmcos are afraid of legal marijuana. Medical marijuana. "Dude, I'm bummed". "Let's smoke a bowl". "I feel better". See, pharmcos won't like that. They want the action. They want the money and the worst side effect is munchies.
Those lists they currently rattle off freak me out.
"Discontinue use and see your doctor if you: go blind, have a stroke, heart attack, can't breathe, feel the urge to kill, you skin starts to bubble and peel off, you suddenly find your mother-in-law attractive, your face begins to melt, a third nipple begins growing on your chest, drooling never ceases and/or you haven't gone to the bathroom since the first Bust administration".
Then Reddy Kilowatt appeared over my head. I GOT IT! The pharmcos are behind the government being boobs. The plan, (evil scientists rubbing their hands together for effect), is to make everyone in America crazy, put them on psychotropics, control them, lull us into lock step and then....I don't know, all I can figure is they get rich and we take drugs.
Just like high school.
Peace,
Lillybell
Then they covered the anniversary of Son of Sam's first killing. I KNOW. Let's not ever mention serial killers again, OK? Seems silly to talk about them. Remember the names of their victims? No. Remember their names. Oh yeah. Dahmer, Manson, Berkowitz, Speck, Bundy, Gacy. Unfortunately, the list could go on and on. Put Berkowitz on the news to tell the world he found Jesus and he's sorry. I think we should let him keep that between him and The Lord.
But that is not the reason for this post. We are all supposed to be on anti depressants. Really. I just figured in out. That's why the world is so screwed up. The Pharmcos aren't making enough money. Heard a commercial that started out talking about back pain and that pain in your knees and joints. The solution according to the commercial. An anti depressant. WHAT? I realize depression comes with it's share of physical pain but back pain, knee pain equals anti depressant? Hmmm. I cut my finger, better double up on those anti depressants. The next drug that was advertised was Viagra. "If you get an erection lasting 4 hour...your lady needs to be on anti depressants".
Here's the point. Chemical support is great for those who need it. Great for WHEN you need it. Brain chemicals are not supposed to solve every freaking ailment. My theory. Pharmcos are afraid of legal marijuana. Medical marijuana. "Dude, I'm bummed". "Let's smoke a bowl". "I feel better". See, pharmcos won't like that. They want the action. They want the money and the worst side effect is munchies.
Those lists they currently rattle off freak me out.
"Discontinue use and see your doctor if you: go blind, have a stroke, heart attack, can't breathe, feel the urge to kill, you skin starts to bubble and peel off, you suddenly find your mother-in-law attractive, your face begins to melt, a third nipple begins growing on your chest, drooling never ceases and/or you haven't gone to the bathroom since the first Bust administration".
Then Reddy Kilowatt appeared over my head. I GOT IT! The pharmcos are behind the government being boobs. The plan, (evil scientists rubbing their hands together for effect), is to make everyone in America crazy, put them on psychotropics, control them, lull us into lock step and then....I don't know, all I can figure is they get rich and we take drugs.
Just like high school.
Peace,
Lillybell
STUPITY NEVER RESTS
The first thing I noticed 19 years ago when I quit working was the world kept turning. I felt certain the HUGE Corporation I worked for would fold without my guidance. They didn't. Close, but that really had nothing to do with me. Then I noticed that, in general, there is stupidity everywhere. Epic stupidity. And people get paid for that. I want to get paid for pointing out what defines stupid.
First week I was adjusting to being unemployed I spent every morning reading the paper and watching The Today Show. I had a girl crush on Katie Couric, not THAT kind, a sisterhood crush. I enjoyed watching Bryant Gumbel. He was just so....snooty or hilarious. His interview with Prince should be enshrined in a museum somewhere. And Prince's visit to the show for Bryant's day should be beside it.
Then I saw a commercial for a laxative, not the one you are thinking, and said to myself...THEY HAVE TO BE NUTS! Why? They used James Brown's "I Feel Good", though not the name of the song, as the theme while showing happy people dancing and smiling about how good it felt to poop. THEN, the voice over guy says, "send us your video tapes showing us how good, name of laxative, makes YOU feel". I was stunned for a minute. Do they NOT know what is going to arrive in the mail? Are they unaware of the antics pervs and teenagers can conjour when asked to tape how good pooping makes you feel? SO glad I didn't work in the mail room. The commercial didn't run very long...DUH!
Then one morning they had a guest on, a PhD. who teaches at UT Austin. He was my brother's advisor. I anxiously awaited his segment. He was there to discuss his latest study, government sponsored I'm sure, on Why People Have Sex. WHAT? I believe it was a five year study. Conclusion: to have children and because it's fun, not necessarily in that order. Thanks for that. Been wondering why people have been having sex since there was no such a thing as a PhD. Wow, procreation AND fun. Who knew?
When the country became captivated with the Soprano's I was confused. More mafia? Isn't the subject dead in the water, literally? No, GREAT DRAMA! OK, I watched an episode. The great drama escaped me. New York accents thick enough to be gravy yelling at each other and the F word seemed to serve as the noun and verb in most sentences. I talk like that, NOT great drama. Potty mouth.
One weekend I was visiting friends who had the Soprano disease and they HAD to watch. I get that. OK, I can entertain myself with a ball and a string easily. They also have three and a half acres, a gorgeous porch and pool. Think I will be fine for an hour. NO, I had to watch. I just didn't get it. I had not given it a chance. Fair enough. I hadn't.
The scene opens with a crew robbing some sort of warehouse. There were three men as I recall. One of them is grunting and moaning as he craps in the corner on the floor I believe. My host explained to me that it is the character's first heist and he's nervous. OH, shitting on the floor, great drama. Then the dialogue began. I'm sorry, those weren't sentences. I counted the number of times a form of the word "fuck" was used in five minutes. Twenty seven times. In five minutes. Even I don't use it that often and I am the Queen of the "F" word.
I watched the rest of the episode and still didn't get it. People at war, killing each other, disowning family and needing a therapist about it. Yeah...good plan. I imagine in real life those men struggle with the decision to be criminals who hire killers to cut down their enemies. Uh uh.
Then there was OZ. A gritty drama about prison. NO thanks. Don't really want to know that much about prison. NO, it's great drama. Guys fight and get raped, it's great. Hmmmm. No.
I sort of got used to stupidity as reality TeeVee became a national thrill. American Idol, The Bachelor, Big Brother, Survivor, etc. I gave up. Stupidity had won. We are now a nation of voyeurs who will watch people eat bugs for entertainment or makes fools of themselves for a man or a woman who has agreed to become engaged to one of twenty some odd strangers. HURL.
Then last week I heard about another scientific study, must be government supported, that made me want to kill my television. This one, "Why Men Like Breasts". WHAT? Someone spent money on this? Why men like tits? Excuse me? Can we have a study about who on earth think that deserves a "study"? Hello, you paid someone to look at boobs for science. Just call me, I have theories.
As if my intelligence had not been insulted then I listened to two women explain how fascinating it is that girls used to want to dress like their mothers and now mothers want to dress like their daughters. Hi, it's because women our age can't grow up and designers cater to that ego driven, "I can't get OLD", issue. Have you shopped for women's clothes? I can't tell if I am in juniors or just simply the Tarty department. This is NOT fascinating. This is stupid.
People used to laugh at me because I had an All My Children fixation. It came on the air my last year of high school I think. I watched from day one. The evil twins, the dead people who keep coming back with amnesia. The most evil TV character ever, Billy Clyde Tuggle. Phoebe and Langley and their multiple off spring with twins marrying the same guy. Women showed up as hookers and ended up as matriarchs of the town. The richest men in the world lived there. Erica and all her husbands, my hero, not really. Mona and Myrtle, The Martins, Joe and Ruth so perfect. Everyone else evil.
Yes, it's stupid. It is also Pulitzer award winning writing compared to much of what is on the air today. In my humble opinion.
This morning I turned on the television to make sure the government hadn't killed us or had an actual gang fight in the halls of Congress and I couldn't believe the topic of conversation. Apparently some other young girl is missing in West Virginia. No body, so suspects, police have released no information. What does the media do? Call in a "Criminologist" to discuss who could have harmed this child. Her answer, "don't know, the police aren't saying anything. That means they are keeping all the information close to their vest so to speak".
OK, that's it. I have a new title in addition of Queen of The Universe. Now I am the Stupid Expert. I am going to hire myself out as an expert and get on the TeeVee. I am going to tell people how stupid they are. Politicians, actors, directors, writers, producers, advertisers, celebrities, other experts, the media. Bring it on. I can say "stupid" in sooo many ways.
Special note to Dr. Oz. SHUT UP ABOUT WHAT YOUR POOP SHOULD LOOK LIKE. Thank you.
Lillybell Blues
First week I was adjusting to being unemployed I spent every morning reading the paper and watching The Today Show. I had a girl crush on Katie Couric, not THAT kind, a sisterhood crush. I enjoyed watching Bryant Gumbel. He was just so....snooty or hilarious. His interview with Prince should be enshrined in a museum somewhere. And Prince's visit to the show for Bryant's day should be beside it.
Then I saw a commercial for a laxative, not the one you are thinking, and said to myself...THEY HAVE TO BE NUTS! Why? They used James Brown's "I Feel Good", though not the name of the song, as the theme while showing happy people dancing and smiling about how good it felt to poop. THEN, the voice over guy says, "send us your video tapes showing us how good, name of laxative, makes YOU feel". I was stunned for a minute. Do they NOT know what is going to arrive in the mail? Are they unaware of the antics pervs and teenagers can conjour when asked to tape how good pooping makes you feel? SO glad I didn't work in the mail room. The commercial didn't run very long...DUH!
Then one morning they had a guest on, a PhD. who teaches at UT Austin. He was my brother's advisor. I anxiously awaited his segment. He was there to discuss his latest study, government sponsored I'm sure, on Why People Have Sex. WHAT? I believe it was a five year study. Conclusion: to have children and because it's fun, not necessarily in that order. Thanks for that. Been wondering why people have been having sex since there was no such a thing as a PhD. Wow, procreation AND fun. Who knew?
When the country became captivated with the Soprano's I was confused. More mafia? Isn't the subject dead in the water, literally? No, GREAT DRAMA! OK, I watched an episode. The great drama escaped me. New York accents thick enough to be gravy yelling at each other and the F word seemed to serve as the noun and verb in most sentences. I talk like that, NOT great drama. Potty mouth.
One weekend I was visiting friends who had the Soprano disease and they HAD to watch. I get that. OK, I can entertain myself with a ball and a string easily. They also have three and a half acres, a gorgeous porch and pool. Think I will be fine for an hour. NO, I had to watch. I just didn't get it. I had not given it a chance. Fair enough. I hadn't.
The scene opens with a crew robbing some sort of warehouse. There were three men as I recall. One of them is grunting and moaning as he craps in the corner on the floor I believe. My host explained to me that it is the character's first heist and he's nervous. OH, shitting on the floor, great drama. Then the dialogue began. I'm sorry, those weren't sentences. I counted the number of times a form of the word "fuck" was used in five minutes. Twenty seven times. In five minutes. Even I don't use it that often and I am the Queen of the "F" word.
I watched the rest of the episode and still didn't get it. People at war, killing each other, disowning family and needing a therapist about it. Yeah...good plan. I imagine in real life those men struggle with the decision to be criminals who hire killers to cut down their enemies. Uh uh.
Then there was OZ. A gritty drama about prison. NO thanks. Don't really want to know that much about prison. NO, it's great drama. Guys fight and get raped, it's great. Hmmmm. No.
I sort of got used to stupidity as reality TeeVee became a national thrill. American Idol, The Bachelor, Big Brother, Survivor, etc. I gave up. Stupidity had won. We are now a nation of voyeurs who will watch people eat bugs for entertainment or makes fools of themselves for a man or a woman who has agreed to become engaged to one of twenty some odd strangers. HURL.
Then last week I heard about another scientific study, must be government supported, that made me want to kill my television. This one, "Why Men Like Breasts". WHAT? Someone spent money on this? Why men like tits? Excuse me? Can we have a study about who on earth think that deserves a "study"? Hello, you paid someone to look at boobs for science. Just call me, I have theories.
As if my intelligence had not been insulted then I listened to two women explain how fascinating it is that girls used to want to dress like their mothers and now mothers want to dress like their daughters. Hi, it's because women our age can't grow up and designers cater to that ego driven, "I can't get OLD", issue. Have you shopped for women's clothes? I can't tell if I am in juniors or just simply the Tarty department. This is NOT fascinating. This is stupid.
People used to laugh at me because I had an All My Children fixation. It came on the air my last year of high school I think. I watched from day one. The evil twins, the dead people who keep coming back with amnesia. The most evil TV character ever, Billy Clyde Tuggle. Phoebe and Langley and their multiple off spring with twins marrying the same guy. Women showed up as hookers and ended up as matriarchs of the town. The richest men in the world lived there. Erica and all her husbands, my hero, not really. Mona and Myrtle, The Martins, Joe and Ruth so perfect. Everyone else evil.
Yes, it's stupid. It is also Pulitzer award winning writing compared to much of what is on the air today. In my humble opinion.
This morning I turned on the television to make sure the government hadn't killed us or had an actual gang fight in the halls of Congress and I couldn't believe the topic of conversation. Apparently some other young girl is missing in West Virginia. No body, so suspects, police have released no information. What does the media do? Call in a "Criminologist" to discuss who could have harmed this child. Her answer, "don't know, the police aren't saying anything. That means they are keeping all the information close to their vest so to speak".
OK, that's it. I have a new title in addition of Queen of The Universe. Now I am the Stupid Expert. I am going to hire myself out as an expert and get on the TeeVee. I am going to tell people how stupid they are. Politicians, actors, directors, writers, producers, advertisers, celebrities, other experts, the media. Bring it on. I can say "stupid" in sooo many ways.
Special note to Dr. Oz. SHUT UP ABOUT WHAT YOUR POOP SHOULD LOOK LIKE. Thank you.
Lillybell Blues
Friday, July 29, 2011
PEOPLE ARE FUNNY
It will be so much better when my back no longer hurts. I might shut up for a while. In the meantime the ironies of life are kicking my prone back. Don't worry no muscle relaxers today.
Have you noticed that when you have a problem, physical, mental, emotional, financial, whatever everyone wants to either ignore your issue completely or offer sympathy and empathy and comfort. I love you all who have listened to me whine about the last three years of dark forest I have navigated. I love those of you who listened to me whine about the four and a half years Current and I drove back and forth to Hot Springs waiting for his mother to finally give up the ghost.
Here is what I have noticed about people.
There really are humans exactly Karen Wiig's, (sorry honey, don't really know how to spell your name and I don't want to check at the moment), character who can always top you no matter what. There aren't just some, they are everywhere and they will not let you think or believe that you have experienced real suffering or pain.
My life story doesn't have many high points. It has an abundance of lows. I did that to me. Not blaming anyone anymore. Too stupid to learn. Too scared to say no or yes or whatever I should have said. It is all on me. I DID IT TO ME. No faith in me until it was way past sensible. Oh well, my cross to bear.
I whine to my friends and they to me. We share stories of, "I know what you mean..when I was in your place, blah, blah, blah". It's a sharing of understanding of the turmoil. For some. For others it is a contest.
Some people are just mean. I mean besides me.
Had this conversation recently, paraphrasing, with a friend.
Me: The whole parent process is making me crazy. If someone gave me the same answer twice. If my mother, bless her, would just die she would happier, dad would be George Clooney Sr., Sr. and I would be relieved of half my burden. All about me. (chuckle)
Friend: I stayed with my parents after mom's stroke and dad died before my sister took her out of state. I wrote all her checks. I cleaned out the house. It was filthy.
(heard this story 50 times, FYI, holding up 10 fingers, the international sign for, yes heard it this many times)
Me: I know what you mean, you should see my parent's house
Friend: My parents house was moldy and smelled
Me: Mine is covered in feces
Friend: I watched my dad die. It was awful. His urine was black. I had to be in the room
Me: That's heart breaking, I'm sorry
Friend: My mom was sick too. Took care of her for months with my kids, we had to live with her.
Me: you mentioned that, so sorry. So, have you been busy?
Friend: swamped
Me: I've been really busy too
Friend: You aren't in the heat, and you DON'T work. You do what you want. I am out there sweating.
(OK, this has been fun, now I am not having a good time anymore)
Me: That's right, I remember when I chose your profession.
Friend: SNIDE, that's not what I need. You are so spoiled and bitter. You don't know how the real world works.
Me: Thanks for calling?
Friend: Maybe if you spent less time whining and DID something you would feel better.
Me: Didn't really feel that bad until you called.
Friend: You just have everything handed to you, you don't know what it means to not be able to pay the rent. You think your problems are soooooo important. You think you are the only with problems don't you? What is with that BLOG? Really, THAT's how busy you are.
Me: Are you in a bar? Is this verbal abuse ala Coors Light? Because you know my rule about arguing with drunks. It's like trying to teach a pig to sing, it's impossible and the pig is annoying.
Friend: OH, so when you get drunk THAT's OK, you are so judgmental.
Me: need to go, really, don't want to have a conversation with you, sorry I mentioned an issue involving my parents, friend, won't bring them up to you again, AND I can recite your mom and dad story, so thanks for calling. Don't fall off your bar stool. Again. That last one almost killed you.
Friend: THAT WAS MEAN
Me: yes, I know
Friend: I took the day off today so I thought me might have LUNCH, but since you're "busy"...
Me: LOVE being your beck and call friend. Lunch isn't good for me one way or the other. Let's hang up before this becomes ugly. You are being an ASS and I am not sure why I am the target but, don't make me pull out my dictionary....
Friend: OH that's right, you're so smart and you think you are sooooo talented. Jesus how do you live with yourself?
Me: YOU called ME. Thank you for the asshole, now I have two.
Friend: I wanted to have LUNCH, that's why I called
hung up, (hard to slam a cell phone, I hate that) in my mind I am thinking - really? thank you for the tirade. At least I keep mine where you can avert your eyes. Shouldn't have said that Coors thing, yes, I should...20 BEERS IS NOT AN ACCOMPLISHMENT.
phone rings
Friend: DID YOU HANG UP ON ME?
Me: no, lost the connection took it as a sign from God that we don't need to talk right now
Friend: so are we going to lunch?
Me: NO, we are not. It is almost three in the afternoon and I thought I divorced you once...no, that was someone just like you. CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND BE AN ASS TO HER. THAT IS HER JOB, TO PUT UP WITH YOUR CRAP. I AM YOUR FRIEND. SORTA, AS OF NOW.
You know how people go through their Facebook "friends" and delete a few? I am mentally doing that. So if you call and I don't answer, a lot, well......you've been deleted.
Lillybell
Have you noticed that when you have a problem, physical, mental, emotional, financial, whatever everyone wants to either ignore your issue completely or offer sympathy and empathy and comfort. I love you all who have listened to me whine about the last three years of dark forest I have navigated. I love those of you who listened to me whine about the four and a half years Current and I drove back and forth to Hot Springs waiting for his mother to finally give up the ghost.
Here is what I have noticed about people.
There really are humans exactly Karen Wiig's, (sorry honey, don't really know how to spell your name and I don't want to check at the moment), character who can always top you no matter what. There aren't just some, they are everywhere and they will not let you think or believe that you have experienced real suffering or pain.
My life story doesn't have many high points. It has an abundance of lows. I did that to me. Not blaming anyone anymore. Too stupid to learn. Too scared to say no or yes or whatever I should have said. It is all on me. I DID IT TO ME. No faith in me until it was way past sensible. Oh well, my cross to bear.
I whine to my friends and they to me. We share stories of, "I know what you mean..when I was in your place, blah, blah, blah". It's a sharing of understanding of the turmoil. For some. For others it is a contest.
Some people are just mean. I mean besides me.
Had this conversation recently, paraphrasing, with a friend.
Me: The whole parent process is making me crazy. If someone gave me the same answer twice. If my mother, bless her, would just die she would happier, dad would be George Clooney Sr., Sr. and I would be relieved of half my burden. All about me. (chuckle)
Friend: I stayed with my parents after mom's stroke and dad died before my sister took her out of state. I wrote all her checks. I cleaned out the house. It was filthy.
(heard this story 50 times, FYI, holding up 10 fingers, the international sign for, yes heard it this many times)
Me: I know what you mean, you should see my parent's house
Friend: My parents house was moldy and smelled
Me: Mine is covered in feces
Friend: I watched my dad die. It was awful. His urine was black. I had to be in the room
Me: That's heart breaking, I'm sorry
Friend: My mom was sick too. Took care of her for months with my kids, we had to live with her.
Me: you mentioned that, so sorry. So, have you been busy?
Friend: swamped
Me: I've been really busy too
Friend: You aren't in the heat, and you DON'T work. You do what you want. I am out there sweating.
(OK, this has been fun, now I am not having a good time anymore)
Me: That's right, I remember when I chose your profession.
Friend: SNIDE, that's not what I need. You are so spoiled and bitter. You don't know how the real world works.
Me: Thanks for calling?
Friend: Maybe if you spent less time whining and DID something you would feel better.
Me: Didn't really feel that bad until you called.
Friend: You just have everything handed to you, you don't know what it means to not be able to pay the rent. You think your problems are soooooo important. You think you are the only with problems don't you? What is with that BLOG? Really, THAT's how busy you are.
Me: Are you in a bar? Is this verbal abuse ala Coors Light? Because you know my rule about arguing with drunks. It's like trying to teach a pig to sing, it's impossible and the pig is annoying.
Friend: OH, so when you get drunk THAT's OK, you are so judgmental.
Me: need to go, really, don't want to have a conversation with you, sorry I mentioned an issue involving my parents, friend, won't bring them up to you again, AND I can recite your mom and dad story, so thanks for calling. Don't fall off your bar stool. Again. That last one almost killed you.
Friend: THAT WAS MEAN
Me: yes, I know
Friend: I took the day off today so I thought me might have LUNCH, but since you're "busy"...
Me: LOVE being your beck and call friend. Lunch isn't good for me one way or the other. Let's hang up before this becomes ugly. You are being an ASS and I am not sure why I am the target but, don't make me pull out my dictionary....
Friend: OH that's right, you're so smart and you think you are sooooo talented. Jesus how do you live with yourself?
Me: YOU called ME. Thank you for the asshole, now I have two.
Friend: I wanted to have LUNCH, that's why I called
hung up, (hard to slam a cell phone, I hate that) in my mind I am thinking - really? thank you for the tirade. At least I keep mine where you can avert your eyes. Shouldn't have said that Coors thing, yes, I should...20 BEERS IS NOT AN ACCOMPLISHMENT.
phone rings
Friend: DID YOU HANG UP ON ME?
Me: no, lost the connection took it as a sign from God that we don't need to talk right now
Friend: so are we going to lunch?
Me: NO, we are not. It is almost three in the afternoon and I thought I divorced you once...no, that was someone just like you. CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND BE AN ASS TO HER. THAT IS HER JOB, TO PUT UP WITH YOUR CRAP. I AM YOUR FRIEND. SORTA, AS OF NOW.
You know how people go through their Facebook "friends" and delete a few? I am mentally doing that. So if you call and I don't answer, a lot, well......you've been deleted.
Lillybell
YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE, NOW I RUN THE WORLD
I marvel everyday at the world in which we live. Not sure how we got too many people and too many directions but in my, as you know not so humble, opinion this world is going to hell in a hand basket. I blame everyone but me.
When we boomers we growing up our political leaders were reviled, (Nixon, the early years), or revered, (Kennedy). Nixon looked like a shifty eyed character from Batman or Dick Tracy, call him The Sweat-er. Kennedy looked like a Brooks Brothers ad. Nixon might as well have worn a black hat. Kennedy could have repeated the alphabet and the nation would have collectively gone, "Ahhhhh". He moved this nation with brilliant oratory. He had a purpose. Beat the commies at everything. He said, 'we're going to the moon" and we were, YOU BET YOUR ASS WE ARE. THIS IS AMERICA! He told us to do something for our country not just take. Give back. He started an organization that spreads kindness and caring because it's the human thing to do. He didn't use his position to bully the world, just smack down the oppressors.
Our celebrities were expected to behave. Jerry Lee Lewis had some issues when he married his 13 year old cousin. Sun records didn't want him anymore and other than the gawkers the public was appalled. The Eddie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton affairs were headlines but more along the lines of: SHE IS A WHORE AND HE SHOULD DIE kinda thing instead of, "Charlie Sheen is humping at least two women and does enough cocaine to support Columbia". YAY, let's make him MORE famous. Sorry, Charlie, (titter), you had talent once, great talent. Now you play Charlie Sheen. LOSING.
John Lennon made an observation to a reporter that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus. He didn't say it was his opinion. He said it like he couldn't BELIEVE how people clung to his every word. Then America and parts of the world went berserk and burned those albums that would be worth money now, and denounced him as GODLESS. Then went on to worship him in life and especially death.
And now we revere people who have literally NO talent. Paris Hilton and all Kardashians. Paris is famous because daddy has lots of money, she's hot and she oops had that porn of herself on line. How conceited does one have to be to watch the act after it's over? Really, I don't want to know. I live in the moment. She is paid to attend parties so people can say, "I was at a Party with Paris Hilton". She started carrying that tiny dog in a purse and BAM everyone had to have one. HURL. In the wild, dogs don't live in Louis Vitton. Not sure what spawned the Kardashians but one day there they all were, rich, famous, dating the NBA and now they are???? still don't know.
Our leaders are now idiots who play, "am not, are too" better than most three year olds. They CAN'T lose. It's all about them.
WE, our party, has the nations best interest at heart. We don't actually say anything because we like sound bites. We work on them in front of a mirror for the many camera opportunities we manipulate. When we stand on the house floor, we all sound like southern preachers or lawyers arguing the case of our lives. Still, we accomplish nothing because we LOVE the sound of our own voices and if we solved problems, we could not hear ourselves all the time. DAMN IT. We did that entire yelling at the Big Three episode. Weren't we impressive? We acted indignant and told them how greedy they are. Ta da!
We delved into steroid use in baseball. That was a problem that was bad for AMERICAN CHILDREN. They might take steroids! So what if some of them don't have food.
When boomers became hippies, we said, "no thank you, we don't care to die in a war that serves no purpose". Our elders said, "you don't understand, it's the domino theory. The commies are going to rule the world by taking over one nation at a time." And we said, "wouldn't the second most powerful nation on earth start it's domination somewhere else? Say, Europe or America? Why would they start in Viet Nam?" Of course there was no answer. We were too chicken to go kill commies that's how they saw the generation they raised. Of course we all now know that we wanted to free the Vietnamese people so they could live here and find they really weren't all that welcome. But we have beautiful nails.
Now we want to have a war all the time. We make up reasons to go to war. Look, weapons of mass destruction. The inspectors on the ground said, no, we don't think so. And we said, BULLSHIT, we need to WAR. We now have the longest war of our history, I think, and some of the time I don't remember we are even having one. How wrong is that?
OK, now it's my world and here is what we are going to do.
I am sending our military to help those people in Africa who are literally victims of genocide, which we swore we would never tolerate again, and tyranny of mass proportions. Who is helping them now? George Clooney, Brad and Angelina. How screwed up is that? Thank you rich, famous, gorgeous people but really, let the military kill those tyrants and then you guys can be Ambassadors. I realize that we can't exploit these Africans, they have no oil or minerals of value but still I feel they have a right to live without being maimed, raped and having to watch their children die from disease and starvation. You guys in the middle east. If you don't know how to be a military by now, well, let's just say....DUH.
NO ONE IS FAMOUS WITHOUT TALENT. Music will be based on audio, not video. Sorry. Sick of that. Beyonce, Christina, Pink, (I love you by the way, you don't need no hootchie coo), Rhianna, Lady Gag a, Madonna etc. YOU ARE NOT STRIPPERS OR PORN STARS. You are supposed to be musicians. And on a personal note, no pun intended, it is not necessary to hit every note in your range at the end of every phrase. As Saliari is credited with saying, "TOO MANY NOTES".
FAMOUS MALE SINGERS: There will be a limit to the number of dancers on stage with you. Booty shaking is not an art. You will not sing of bitches and ho's unless you sing of pricks and assholes. Pull up your pants. I don't care that Calvin Klein sponsors your tour. RAPPERS, please, I can't appreciate your art if I can't understand a word you are saying. I understand that baby got back and it's gettin' hot in here so take off all your clothes. Not seeing the social value there, yaunnerstanwhatIsayin'? Let me understand your poetry and maybe then I won't turn off the TV every time I see you.
CORPORATE AMERICA: You will be receiving separate instructions. There aren't enough servers on earth to hold the information you are going to need to retain. Let me sum it up. Greed doesn't pay anymore. Now, in the interim, prior to your new regulations, I want a report that pinpoints the jobs created by tax breaks, the physical locations of those jobs and what they pay. A personal financial statement form the 5 top executives of each of the Fortune 500 companies, a definition of all perks and benefits and an equal number of financial statements from random, vested employees of 10 years tenure and their benefits package. Please add to those packages detailed job descriptions of all the positions in the study. That should keep your minions busy for a while. Oh, and there will be audits. Lots and lots and lots of audits.
DRUGS ARE LEGAL. Marijuana will be considered an adult substance, taxed and regulated. We will grow our own pot and process, package and ship to our and other nations. LOOK, I just created an industry with jobs in America.
HARDER DRUGS. You need to see your doctor. Tell him/her you want to be an addict and they will dispense you clean, correct amounts of your preferred substance. It will be expensive but not as expensive as it is now and you will not have to hang out in those alleys.
Men are not allowed to have a say in abortion. If you don't want the unborn to suffer, keep your sperm to yourself.
Women you are allowed to have one, "I'm pregnant and don't know what to do, he left me that bastard" episode where you will receive help. After that it is on you.
FEDERAL GOVERNMENT: You have six months to learn to run a nation that benefits all the citizens with no one segment getting more than their fair share. Failing this heresthedeal:
I will draw that invisible line down the nation like the backseat of your childhood car. Republicans you get the right half. Democrats you get the left. Independents you get a tiny strip in the middle but you can travel between the reds and the blues. Reds and Blues you stay put. Do not cross that line. Don't look at each other, don't touch each other don't even think each other's name.
Don't make me pull this nation over,
You're so welcome,
Lillybell Blues
When we boomers we growing up our political leaders were reviled, (Nixon, the early years), or revered, (Kennedy). Nixon looked like a shifty eyed character from Batman or Dick Tracy, call him The Sweat-er. Kennedy looked like a Brooks Brothers ad. Nixon might as well have worn a black hat. Kennedy could have repeated the alphabet and the nation would have collectively gone, "Ahhhhh". He moved this nation with brilliant oratory. He had a purpose. Beat the commies at everything. He said, 'we're going to the moon" and we were, YOU BET YOUR ASS WE ARE. THIS IS AMERICA! He told us to do something for our country not just take. Give back. He started an organization that spreads kindness and caring because it's the human thing to do. He didn't use his position to bully the world, just smack down the oppressors.
Our celebrities were expected to behave. Jerry Lee Lewis had some issues when he married his 13 year old cousin. Sun records didn't want him anymore and other than the gawkers the public was appalled. The Eddie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton affairs were headlines but more along the lines of: SHE IS A WHORE AND HE SHOULD DIE kinda thing instead of, "Charlie Sheen is humping at least two women and does enough cocaine to support Columbia". YAY, let's make him MORE famous. Sorry, Charlie, (titter), you had talent once, great talent. Now you play Charlie Sheen. LOSING.
John Lennon made an observation to a reporter that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus. He didn't say it was his opinion. He said it like he couldn't BELIEVE how people clung to his every word. Then America and parts of the world went berserk and burned those albums that would be worth money now, and denounced him as GODLESS. Then went on to worship him in life and especially death.
And now we revere people who have literally NO talent. Paris Hilton and all Kardashians. Paris is famous because daddy has lots of money, she's hot and she oops had that porn of herself on line. How conceited does one have to be to watch the act after it's over? Really, I don't want to know. I live in the moment. She is paid to attend parties so people can say, "I was at a Party with Paris Hilton". She started carrying that tiny dog in a purse and BAM everyone had to have one. HURL. In the wild, dogs don't live in Louis Vitton. Not sure what spawned the Kardashians but one day there they all were, rich, famous, dating the NBA and now they are???? still don't know.
Our leaders are now idiots who play, "am not, are too" better than most three year olds. They CAN'T lose. It's all about them.
WE, our party, has the nations best interest at heart. We don't actually say anything because we like sound bites. We work on them in front of a mirror for the many camera opportunities we manipulate. When we stand on the house floor, we all sound like southern preachers or lawyers arguing the case of our lives. Still, we accomplish nothing because we LOVE the sound of our own voices and if we solved problems, we could not hear ourselves all the time. DAMN IT. We did that entire yelling at the Big Three episode. Weren't we impressive? We acted indignant and told them how greedy they are. Ta da!
We delved into steroid use in baseball. That was a problem that was bad for AMERICAN CHILDREN. They might take steroids! So what if some of them don't have food.
When boomers became hippies, we said, "no thank you, we don't care to die in a war that serves no purpose". Our elders said, "you don't understand, it's the domino theory. The commies are going to rule the world by taking over one nation at a time." And we said, "wouldn't the second most powerful nation on earth start it's domination somewhere else? Say, Europe or America? Why would they start in Viet Nam?" Of course there was no answer. We were too chicken to go kill commies that's how they saw the generation they raised. Of course we all now know that we wanted to free the Vietnamese people so they could live here and find they really weren't all that welcome. But we have beautiful nails.
Now we want to have a war all the time. We make up reasons to go to war. Look, weapons of mass destruction. The inspectors on the ground said, no, we don't think so. And we said, BULLSHIT, we need to WAR. We now have the longest war of our history, I think, and some of the time I don't remember we are even having one. How wrong is that?
OK, now it's my world and here is what we are going to do.
I am sending our military to help those people in Africa who are literally victims of genocide, which we swore we would never tolerate again, and tyranny of mass proportions. Who is helping them now? George Clooney, Brad and Angelina. How screwed up is that? Thank you rich, famous, gorgeous people but really, let the military kill those tyrants and then you guys can be Ambassadors. I realize that we can't exploit these Africans, they have no oil or minerals of value but still I feel they have a right to live without being maimed, raped and having to watch their children die from disease and starvation. You guys in the middle east. If you don't know how to be a military by now, well, let's just say....DUH.
NO ONE IS FAMOUS WITHOUT TALENT. Music will be based on audio, not video. Sorry. Sick of that. Beyonce, Christina, Pink, (I love you by the way, you don't need no hootchie coo), Rhianna, Lady Gag a, Madonna etc. YOU ARE NOT STRIPPERS OR PORN STARS. You are supposed to be musicians. And on a personal note, no pun intended, it is not necessary to hit every note in your range at the end of every phrase. As Saliari is credited with saying, "TOO MANY NOTES".
FAMOUS MALE SINGERS: There will be a limit to the number of dancers on stage with you. Booty shaking is not an art. You will not sing of bitches and ho's unless you sing of pricks and assholes. Pull up your pants. I don't care that Calvin Klein sponsors your tour. RAPPERS, please, I can't appreciate your art if I can't understand a word you are saying. I understand that baby got back and it's gettin' hot in here so take off all your clothes. Not seeing the social value there, yaunnerstanwhatIsayin'? Let me understand your poetry and maybe then I won't turn off the TV every time I see you.
CORPORATE AMERICA: You will be receiving separate instructions. There aren't enough servers on earth to hold the information you are going to need to retain. Let me sum it up. Greed doesn't pay anymore. Now, in the interim, prior to your new regulations, I want a report that pinpoints the jobs created by tax breaks, the physical locations of those jobs and what they pay. A personal financial statement form the 5 top executives of each of the Fortune 500 companies, a definition of all perks and benefits and an equal number of financial statements from random, vested employees of 10 years tenure and their benefits package. Please add to those packages detailed job descriptions of all the positions in the study. That should keep your minions busy for a while. Oh, and there will be audits. Lots and lots and lots of audits.
DRUGS ARE LEGAL. Marijuana will be considered an adult substance, taxed and regulated. We will grow our own pot and process, package and ship to our and other nations. LOOK, I just created an industry with jobs in America.
HARDER DRUGS. You need to see your doctor. Tell him/her you want to be an addict and they will dispense you clean, correct amounts of your preferred substance. It will be expensive but not as expensive as it is now and you will not have to hang out in those alleys.
Men are not allowed to have a say in abortion. If you don't want the unborn to suffer, keep your sperm to yourself.
Women you are allowed to have one, "I'm pregnant and don't know what to do, he left me that bastard" episode where you will receive help. After that it is on you.
FEDERAL GOVERNMENT: You have six months to learn to run a nation that benefits all the citizens with no one segment getting more than their fair share. Failing this heresthedeal:
I will draw that invisible line down the nation like the backseat of your childhood car. Republicans you get the right half. Democrats you get the left. Independents you get a tiny strip in the middle but you can travel between the reds and the blues. Reds and Blues you stay put. Do not cross that line. Don't look at each other, don't touch each other don't even think each other's name.
Don't make me pull this nation over,
You're so welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Thursday, July 28, 2011
PARTY!
Anyone have a time machine I could borrow? I need to go back to the forming of this nation and see what those guys really had in mind. Pretty sure every one is off track. Don't think colonists stood up to the most powerful military on earth, their own government, to fight for their political party. Based on everything I read in the paper and see on the TeeVee our Congress seems to think PARTY is what they are there for. Capture the base, get your colleagues in line. Yes, please get them all in lock step. America was not founded on free thinking.
I thought, silly me, that the Colonists stood up to their government and said: "We have no representation. You can tax us and we have no one there to say, 'wait, you can't tax the poor to death', we won't pay no stinking taxes". Then the government said something about praying to the correct God and the Colonists said, "WAIT, how do you know what GOD wants or even that you are worshipping the RIGHT God? Some of us would like to practice our religion a little differently". Then there were some arrests and fighting. The government sent soldiers to live in people's homes and took away their ability to militia and manufacture arms. Then the colonists said, "keep your hands off of our militias. It's how we defend ourselves and really, you are the enemy so we want to use them to fire at you". Then the government said, "OH YEAH?", would like to step outside and settle this like gentlemen?" And the colonists said, "no, we would like to KICK YOUR ASS".
Some of the colonists were like, "shhhhhh, don't make the government mad. The government knows best, after all we are loyal subjects. Pass the gruel please". But the rabble rousers said, "screw the government. no one is going to tax MY tea, I am not supporting any government that sticks it's hands in my pocket so they can live like, well Royalty. NO, I don't want to use MY meager earnings to solve THEIR financial issues. Let's kill 'em". Then someone said, "wait, we don't have a military...what are we gonna do?" So they sent rich, smart, powerful men to foreign countries who said, "please, sirs, we would like to get the hell away from the British but we have no country, money, military...may we please have some of yours?" And the French said. "Pardon mois but YOU ARE BRITISH and are dirt under our feet". And the men said, "WAIT...we WANT to be a country, allies with you...and you got some hot chicks here". The French blew some fine colony grown tobacco into their faces and said, "prove you are worthy, we like killing the British too. We can talk later, we have some peasants to oppress".
There was a war. The Continental Congress wrote some outlines about how freakin' free we were gonna be. The government would not be telling it's citizens what to do, how to worship and there would be militias. And happiness. And the right to live as you choose and not answer to someone who is appointed as your Master by tradition and bloodline. The French said, "we like your spunk and this tobacco rocks, we will send some ships and money, however, please don't say anything to our peasants...we need some fancy new shiny pants".
Then we were AMERICA. Then we started government. Then political parties. Then the government became two distinct and separate gangs of knuckleheads. Each side knows everything and they are correct. YOU are stoooopid and foolish to believe what "those guys" say. THEY RUINED THIS NATION WITH THEIR POLICIES....vote for me.
HA! screams the opposition, WE know what is best, YOU RUINED THIS NATION you sorry, stupid colleague whom I admire very much. WE ARE IN POWER so you guys do it our way for a while....vote for me.
YEAH, just wait. WE WILL TAKE THE HOUSE AND THE WHITE HOUSE and then what you gonna do?...vote for me.
Then the citizens all got behind their party and said, "THAT'S RIGHT, you progressive, socialist stupid middle class people. WE have the money, WE know what is best and by the way, YOU don't worship GOD in the right way. HE CHOSE our candidate to be in office, that's right GOD picked our guy. What you got?
OH BROTHER, did not know you owned the right to GOD and what do we have? Compassion. Common Sense....OK, not all the time sometimes we throw money away because we don't how to stop a program that is useless now BUT we have the PEOPLE at heart.
AND THAT IS WHY YOU ARE A SOCIALIST!
ELITIST!
PROGRESSIVE!
Please, can we try American? Please, government, shut up until you accomplish something.
We won't hear from you for a long time.
Thank you in advance,
Lillybell Blues
I thought, silly me, that the Colonists stood up to their government and said: "We have no representation. You can tax us and we have no one there to say, 'wait, you can't tax the poor to death', we won't pay no stinking taxes". Then the government said something about praying to the correct God and the Colonists said, "WAIT, how do you know what GOD wants or even that you are worshipping the RIGHT God? Some of us would like to practice our religion a little differently". Then there were some arrests and fighting. The government sent soldiers to live in people's homes and took away their ability to militia and manufacture arms. Then the colonists said, "keep your hands off of our militias. It's how we defend ourselves and really, you are the enemy so we want to use them to fire at you". Then the government said, "OH YEAH?", would like to step outside and settle this like gentlemen?" And the colonists said, "no, we would like to KICK YOUR ASS".
Some of the colonists were like, "shhhhhh, don't make the government mad. The government knows best, after all we are loyal subjects. Pass the gruel please". But the rabble rousers said, "screw the government. no one is going to tax MY tea, I am not supporting any government that sticks it's hands in my pocket so they can live like, well Royalty. NO, I don't want to use MY meager earnings to solve THEIR financial issues. Let's kill 'em". Then someone said, "wait, we don't have a military...what are we gonna do?" So they sent rich, smart, powerful men to foreign countries who said, "please, sirs, we would like to get the hell away from the British but we have no country, money, military...may we please have some of yours?" And the French said. "Pardon mois but YOU ARE BRITISH and are dirt under our feet". And the men said, "WAIT...we WANT to be a country, allies with you...and you got some hot chicks here". The French blew some fine colony grown tobacco into their faces and said, "prove you are worthy, we like killing the British too. We can talk later, we have some peasants to oppress".
There was a war. The Continental Congress wrote some outlines about how freakin' free we were gonna be. The government would not be telling it's citizens what to do, how to worship and there would be militias. And happiness. And the right to live as you choose and not answer to someone who is appointed as your Master by tradition and bloodline. The French said, "we like your spunk and this tobacco rocks, we will send some ships and money, however, please don't say anything to our peasants...we need some fancy new shiny pants".
Then we were AMERICA. Then we started government. Then political parties. Then the government became two distinct and separate gangs of knuckleheads. Each side knows everything and they are correct. YOU are stoooopid and foolish to believe what "those guys" say. THEY RUINED THIS NATION WITH THEIR POLICIES....vote for me.
HA! screams the opposition, WE know what is best, YOU RUINED THIS NATION you sorry, stupid colleague whom I admire very much. WE ARE IN POWER so you guys do it our way for a while....vote for me.
YEAH, just wait. WE WILL TAKE THE HOUSE AND THE WHITE HOUSE and then what you gonna do?...vote for me.
Then the citizens all got behind their party and said, "THAT'S RIGHT, you progressive, socialist stupid middle class people. WE have the money, WE know what is best and by the way, YOU don't worship GOD in the right way. HE CHOSE our candidate to be in office, that's right GOD picked our guy. What you got?
OH BROTHER, did not know you owned the right to GOD and what do we have? Compassion. Common Sense....OK, not all the time sometimes we throw money away because we don't how to stop a program that is useless now BUT we have the PEOPLE at heart.
AND THAT IS WHY YOU ARE A SOCIALIST!
ELITIST!
PROGRESSIVE!
Please, can we try American? Please, government, shut up until you accomplish something.
We won't hear from you for a long time.
Thank you in advance,
Lillybell Blues
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
DEMENTIA - THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW BEFORE YOU CAN'T REMEMBER
I have a death wish. Not the "let's sky dive without a parachute" kind of death wish, an actual death wish. Please, God, let me die while I still know me. And hurry and take my mother. What did she do to deserve living in paranoia and confusion?
Guess that is really 2 death wishes. One for her because I love her. One for me because I am scared.
I have heard friends say that as their parents had to move to a nursing home or care facility the parent's friends and peers never visit. It is all up to the family at that point. That seems cruel until you have spent way too much time in one of those places. You are looking at your future. No one wants to know that is true. Run, hide, don't look. Put off worrying about what is going to happen to you. I am there and I am not 60 years old, close, but not yet.
This fear began when my mother-in-law got Alzheimer's. She was mean so it was hard to tell if she was confused or hateful. By the time she set the kitchen on fire it was obvious she was mean and had dementia. She went from home, to assisted living, heart attack, hospital, nursing home. That was two weeks.
Current and I spent four and a half years driving to Hot Spring, Arkansas from Texas to take care of her needs. Hire sitters, people to watch her condo, take care of her financial and legal business. Thank heaven she had all her paperwork in order, filed, in a safe deposit box, her attorney knew everything and her financial advisor had paperwork that said Current was her POA. That part was easy. Watching her die was not.
They, meaning the hospital, lost her false teeth. Nursing homes don't do that sort of dental work. There was no way she could sit in a dental chair to be fitted for new teeth so she spent her last years toothless. She had diabetes and circulatory problems. She had a femoral bypass so her legs wouldn't die. One died anyway. They cut it off. She had diabetes. She was kept on a diabetic diet. The staff pricked her purple, bruised fingers before every crappy meal so she wouldn't get too many carbs or sugar. THE WOMAN COULDN'T WALK OR TALK. She cried a lot. She needed to die. She had a living will. She had a DNR. They wouldn't let her die. Her leg was removed because of gangrene. "You can't let her die from that", said the doctor. "I can let her die from a drug overdose or a pillow on her face. The woman wanted to die. Not lie here in shit all day unable to move or speak. Let her die". "NOT from gangrene, it's too painful". "If she was a pet and not a human, she would be mercifully put down. Let her die". He thought I was a non Christian, mother-in-law hating bitch. I thought he was a money grubbing pig. We were called no less than eight times to tell us she wouldn't live through the day or the night or the weekend. We kept vigil. She would almost die....then open her eyes. They would pump her with fluids and food and keep her hanging on......they wanted all her money? She didn't have much. They enjoy suffering? Look around, it's everywhere.
Eventually she died. Penniless and shrunken. It was pitiful.
I prayed neither of my parents would have dementia. God answered that prayer. BOTH my parents have dementia. They had made funeral plans and had a will. That's it. No living wills, no directions, no talk about what they wanted. I initiated these conversations as my mother-in-law got worse. I told my parents that one day you are seemingly fine, the next day the kitchen is burning. PLEASE, let's make plans. Let's decide what you want now while you are lucid. My dad, who has always been terminally stubborn, found this silly, typical daughter stuff. "We want to stay in our house. When we need help we will hire someone". That's the plan. Easy for him. Makes my life hell.
As mother became obviously sick, Dad became blind. Not literally, figuratively. There was nothing wrong with her. She was just "getting old". He was getting to be an alcoholic. I didn't know that until he was having nothing but beer and scotch. I took it away from him. He threatened to kill me with his bare hands. My dad. Two drink maximum dad. Since dad drank so did mom. I spent a night in the ER while they pumped her stomach. Alcohol poisoning. THEY didn't treat her dementia either. She was just a drunk old lady. They gave her "the treatment" for alcoholics in the hospital for a week. They didn't put her on any medication to slow down her dementia. "Her doctor can do that". SHE WON'T LEAVE HER HOUSE. I got nodded at a lot.
I went to doctors, social workers, hired care givers, no one helped. Doctors wouldn't. The social workers said, "wow, that is difficult. You could turn them over to the state". Care givers were turned away at the door every time I wasn't there to force my parents to let them in.
I did the ultimate. I did my version of calling in the army. I made my brother come here. He got to stay two days before a family emergency took him back to Connecticut.
For three years I tried to care for my parents, pay all their bills, (first I had to find their money....they didn't know where it was). Pay the IRS for the years my dad just didn't, he forgot. Figure out how he gets paid. He didn't know. Pay his homeowners insurance if he had any. He wasn't sure. Figure out his retirement and what happens when who dies first. He thought we worked for Convair. YEAH, in 1950.
My mother just needed someone to tell her where the dog is, what food is for, that we really need to clean her ass becaue she is leaving feces every where she sits. This made her MAD. Real MAD. Dad would tell me to LEAVE YOUR MOTHER ALONE. It was a nightmare.
They are now safe. Mom is paranoid all the time. Dad is the Clark Gable of the locked ward. This is my future. DNA, RNA, LMNOP, whatever, seems to me the deck is stacked against me. I HATE going there to visit. It is so sad and depressing. But I go. I go stare my future in the face. There I will be. Only my daughter won't be showing up. I will have to depend on the kindness of strangers. People aren't that nice.
I talked to my doctor. I told him my fears. He told me to quit smoking. I told him that we need to go see my parents and on the way back to his office he will ask me for a cigarette.
I will smoke until the government takes that away from me. You know they will. They want us healthy so we can all end up not knowing where we are and crapping in our pants. No thanks.
Here is what you need to do. Have a will, a living will, a DNR. Legal ones. Tell everyone where they are. Have your attorney keep copies of everything. GET ORGANIZED. File all your paperwork about everything. Home, car, insurance, wishes, bank information, your mother's maiden name or any other password you have used that involves money. Doctor's name and office location, medications you need, who should get your stuff, who should be bitch slapped. Funeral and/or memorial service arrangements and wishes, down to the music and Bible verses, prayers and whatever else you want. MAKE COPIES OF EVERYTHING. Your family or the sucker who gets saddled with you will appreciate it.
And don't expect visitors in the home unless you have dutiful children. But after a while you won't know who they are.
Where are my cigarettes? Questions like that scare me.
Lillybell
Guess that is really 2 death wishes. One for her because I love her. One for me because I am scared.
I have heard friends say that as their parents had to move to a nursing home or care facility the parent's friends and peers never visit. It is all up to the family at that point. That seems cruel until you have spent way too much time in one of those places. You are looking at your future. No one wants to know that is true. Run, hide, don't look. Put off worrying about what is going to happen to you. I am there and I am not 60 years old, close, but not yet.
This fear began when my mother-in-law got Alzheimer's. She was mean so it was hard to tell if she was confused or hateful. By the time she set the kitchen on fire it was obvious she was mean and had dementia. She went from home, to assisted living, heart attack, hospital, nursing home. That was two weeks.
Current and I spent four and a half years driving to Hot Spring, Arkansas from Texas to take care of her needs. Hire sitters, people to watch her condo, take care of her financial and legal business. Thank heaven she had all her paperwork in order, filed, in a safe deposit box, her attorney knew everything and her financial advisor had paperwork that said Current was her POA. That part was easy. Watching her die was not.
They, meaning the hospital, lost her false teeth. Nursing homes don't do that sort of dental work. There was no way she could sit in a dental chair to be fitted for new teeth so she spent her last years toothless. She had diabetes and circulatory problems. She had a femoral bypass so her legs wouldn't die. One died anyway. They cut it off. She had diabetes. She was kept on a diabetic diet. The staff pricked her purple, bruised fingers before every crappy meal so she wouldn't get too many carbs or sugar. THE WOMAN COULDN'T WALK OR TALK. She cried a lot. She needed to die. She had a living will. She had a DNR. They wouldn't let her die. Her leg was removed because of gangrene. "You can't let her die from that", said the doctor. "I can let her die from a drug overdose or a pillow on her face. The woman wanted to die. Not lie here in shit all day unable to move or speak. Let her die". "NOT from gangrene, it's too painful". "If she was a pet and not a human, she would be mercifully put down. Let her die". He thought I was a non Christian, mother-in-law hating bitch. I thought he was a money grubbing pig. We were called no less than eight times to tell us she wouldn't live through the day or the night or the weekend. We kept vigil. She would almost die....then open her eyes. They would pump her with fluids and food and keep her hanging on......they wanted all her money? She didn't have much. They enjoy suffering? Look around, it's everywhere.
Eventually she died. Penniless and shrunken. It was pitiful.
I prayed neither of my parents would have dementia. God answered that prayer. BOTH my parents have dementia. They had made funeral plans and had a will. That's it. No living wills, no directions, no talk about what they wanted. I initiated these conversations as my mother-in-law got worse. I told my parents that one day you are seemingly fine, the next day the kitchen is burning. PLEASE, let's make plans. Let's decide what you want now while you are lucid. My dad, who has always been terminally stubborn, found this silly, typical daughter stuff. "We want to stay in our house. When we need help we will hire someone". That's the plan. Easy for him. Makes my life hell.
As mother became obviously sick, Dad became blind. Not literally, figuratively. There was nothing wrong with her. She was just "getting old". He was getting to be an alcoholic. I didn't know that until he was having nothing but beer and scotch. I took it away from him. He threatened to kill me with his bare hands. My dad. Two drink maximum dad. Since dad drank so did mom. I spent a night in the ER while they pumped her stomach. Alcohol poisoning. THEY didn't treat her dementia either. She was just a drunk old lady. They gave her "the treatment" for alcoholics in the hospital for a week. They didn't put her on any medication to slow down her dementia. "Her doctor can do that". SHE WON'T LEAVE HER HOUSE. I got nodded at a lot.
I went to doctors, social workers, hired care givers, no one helped. Doctors wouldn't. The social workers said, "wow, that is difficult. You could turn them over to the state". Care givers were turned away at the door every time I wasn't there to force my parents to let them in.
I did the ultimate. I did my version of calling in the army. I made my brother come here. He got to stay two days before a family emergency took him back to Connecticut.
For three years I tried to care for my parents, pay all their bills, (first I had to find their money....they didn't know where it was). Pay the IRS for the years my dad just didn't, he forgot. Figure out how he gets paid. He didn't know. Pay his homeowners insurance if he had any. He wasn't sure. Figure out his retirement and what happens when who dies first. He thought we worked for Convair. YEAH, in 1950.
My mother just needed someone to tell her where the dog is, what food is for, that we really need to clean her ass becaue she is leaving feces every where she sits. This made her MAD. Real MAD. Dad would tell me to LEAVE YOUR MOTHER ALONE. It was a nightmare.
They are now safe. Mom is paranoid all the time. Dad is the Clark Gable of the locked ward. This is my future. DNA, RNA, LMNOP, whatever, seems to me the deck is stacked against me. I HATE going there to visit. It is so sad and depressing. But I go. I go stare my future in the face. There I will be. Only my daughter won't be showing up. I will have to depend on the kindness of strangers. People aren't that nice.
I talked to my doctor. I told him my fears. He told me to quit smoking. I told him that we need to go see my parents and on the way back to his office he will ask me for a cigarette.
I will smoke until the government takes that away from me. You know they will. They want us healthy so we can all end up not knowing where we are and crapping in our pants. No thanks.
Here is what you need to do. Have a will, a living will, a DNR. Legal ones. Tell everyone where they are. Have your attorney keep copies of everything. GET ORGANIZED. File all your paperwork about everything. Home, car, insurance, wishes, bank information, your mother's maiden name or any other password you have used that involves money. Doctor's name and office location, medications you need, who should get your stuff, who should be bitch slapped. Funeral and/or memorial service arrangements and wishes, down to the music and Bible verses, prayers and whatever else you want. MAKE COPIES OF EVERYTHING. Your family or the sucker who gets saddled with you will appreciate it.
And don't expect visitors in the home unless you have dutiful children. But after a while you won't know who they are.
Where are my cigarettes? Questions like that scare me.
Lillybell
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
SARCASM, KIDDING ABOUT THE GUN THING
I received my honorary degree in Smart Ass some time ago. The post I wrote, "Let's Talk About Guns", was sarcasm. Not going to be wearing a gun on my hip. I am going to hire a body guard.
I got a very long lecture yesterday, actually two, about how I am bitter and hate everything and need to take a long look at me. Took a long, heartfelt look.
It's still you.
OK, go get your gun. That will be awesome after your 20th beer. You forget I have seen you after someone looked at you funny when you were loud and obnoxious. I think a gun is a great idea for you. Hey, you don't want my opinion, please don't ask. If it is of no value to you then......
The actual reason for this bitter, hate filled, rant is I want the right to not get shot. I don't want the right to have a gun, I want the right to not die at someone else's hand gun. Sitting here listening to the story of the latest responsible gun owner who killed six members of his family, in front of his child, on the child's birthday.
Thanks, Dad! I always wanted a massacre!. WOW, this is better than Spider Man!
Last week it was a man who shot his wife while she and their kids were in a car. Yes, I see how reasonable these people can be. These incidents are just in northeast Texas. That's 7 people in less than a week. These are just the ones I recall I at the moment.
Let's get Norway out of the way because I hear the rumble...if someone else had just had a weapon they could have killed the crazy guy. Maybe. What a great decision to have thrust on you. Should I kill this guy? Should I take someones life? Should I carry the memory of that I head shot I made forever? More guns is not the answer to anything. Less guns, no guns, there you go. No hand guns. No weapons intended to just kill people.
"HA, ridiculous!, I hear you out there. Sorry. When I was growing up we had a saying. "Fighting for Peace is Like Fucking for Chastity". Crude? Yes. True? Yes. So let's paraphrase:, "Owning guns to kill people because people own guns is fucking stupid".
"I want to target shoot!". OK, go rent your weapon, load it with something non lethal and "kill" all the targets you want.
Hunters, go hunting. Take your weapons and try to make it a sport. You know, not sit in a blind by the feeder. The one with the camera that shows you when the deer is there so you can put down your beer and kill it. Or, my favorite, the guy who shot the deer out his kitchen window. ABC called, they would like to give you a TeeVee show. Go hunting and then eat and use what you killed. I will take a nice deer skin purse.
In Texas our "leaders" have decided that students can carry guns on campus. Yeah, that isn't a tragedy waiting to happen. After Gov. Hair killed that ferocious coyote he lost his mind.The man has a security team. He wears a gun when he runs? When he walks his dog? What does that say about the safety of our state?
Pretty sure they can't carry guns in the state house. Maybe they can, but I don't think so. They don't want to get shot. ME EITHER.
Cannot wait for those frat parties, those keggers....binge drinking and guns.
Please, may I just have a cigarette in public? HELL NO, that might kill us. Oh, I see.
DATELINE AUSTIN: Only 30 people died in the latest round of Killings at Keggers. Students are wearing Tee shirts that read, "I Survived the Kegger 11/11/11". That brings the total to 107 killed for "looking at my friend with benefits". On the other hand, the University announced it can take 107 more students from the waiting list". Yay.
MERCY, it is me isn't it? I want people to be reasonable. I want people to understand that guns do kill people. Just like knives cut meat. They don't do it by themselves, it takes a human to use the apparatus.
If your car had an issue that hurt a person it would be recalled and fixed so you don't die. If a child accidentally killed itself on a cord from a window shade the entire industry would have to change their design. But hand guns are meant to kill people, nothing else. Can't recall them for being good at their purpose.
I hear you too. "I am a responsible gun owner. I know how and when to use a gun. I would not go berserk and kill people. I have more reason than say those people who lose it everyday somewhere in this country and kill someone else".
My dad was you. He was a farmer, grew up around guns. When I was trying to keep him from drinking himself to death, a symptom of his dementia, I found 2 hand guns in his house, loaded. He needed to be around loaded guns like I need some more husbands. He was perfecrtly rational until he wasn't. Thank God I found the guns and not him. He wouldn't have a face now, maybe. Or my mother might be dead, or me.
I said maybe.
That guy in Fort Hood. He knew all about guns. He used them very well. He had been trained in safety and accuracy. Then he went crazy and killed people. Did you notice the soldiers didn't have loaded weapons? They save those for war. To kill the enemy.
Please do not wave the second amendment at me. READ IT. Then give me report on what it says. Then read some history. Not enough to hurt, just the parts that started America. The standing up to the King part. The Boston Tea Party part, the Intolerable Acts part. Read a little Jefferson. We will discuss this issue then.
Yes, I just gave you another reason to think or not think and just "unfriend" me or send me a private, ugly message. See, I just say it out loud. You apparently don't have that courage.
Maybe if you were holding your gun.
Lillybell
I got a very long lecture yesterday, actually two, about how I am bitter and hate everything and need to take a long look at me. Took a long, heartfelt look.
It's still you.
OK, go get your gun. That will be awesome after your 20th beer. You forget I have seen you after someone looked at you funny when you were loud and obnoxious. I think a gun is a great idea for you. Hey, you don't want my opinion, please don't ask. If it is of no value to you then......
The actual reason for this bitter, hate filled, rant is I want the right to not get shot. I don't want the right to have a gun, I want the right to not die at someone else's hand gun. Sitting here listening to the story of the latest responsible gun owner who killed six members of his family, in front of his child, on the child's birthday.
Thanks, Dad! I always wanted a massacre!. WOW, this is better than Spider Man!
Last week it was a man who shot his wife while she and their kids were in a car. Yes, I see how reasonable these people can be. These incidents are just in northeast Texas. That's 7 people in less than a week. These are just the ones I recall I at the moment.
Let's get Norway out of the way because I hear the rumble...if someone else had just had a weapon they could have killed the crazy guy. Maybe. What a great decision to have thrust on you. Should I kill this guy? Should I take someones life? Should I carry the memory of that I head shot I made forever? More guns is not the answer to anything. Less guns, no guns, there you go. No hand guns. No weapons intended to just kill people.
"HA, ridiculous!, I hear you out there. Sorry. When I was growing up we had a saying. "Fighting for Peace is Like Fucking for Chastity". Crude? Yes. True? Yes. So let's paraphrase:, "Owning guns to kill people because people own guns is fucking stupid".
"I want to target shoot!". OK, go rent your weapon, load it with something non lethal and "kill" all the targets you want.
Hunters, go hunting. Take your weapons and try to make it a sport. You know, not sit in a blind by the feeder. The one with the camera that shows you when the deer is there so you can put down your beer and kill it. Or, my favorite, the guy who shot the deer out his kitchen window. ABC called, they would like to give you a TeeVee show. Go hunting and then eat and use what you killed. I will take a nice deer skin purse.
In Texas our "leaders" have decided that students can carry guns on campus. Yeah, that isn't a tragedy waiting to happen. After Gov. Hair killed that ferocious coyote he lost his mind.The man has a security team. He wears a gun when he runs? When he walks his dog? What does that say about the safety of our state?
Pretty sure they can't carry guns in the state house. Maybe they can, but I don't think so. They don't want to get shot. ME EITHER.
Cannot wait for those frat parties, those keggers....binge drinking and guns.
Please, may I just have a cigarette in public? HELL NO, that might kill us. Oh, I see.
DATELINE AUSTIN: Only 30 people died in the latest round of Killings at Keggers. Students are wearing Tee shirts that read, "I Survived the Kegger 11/11/11". That brings the total to 107 killed for "looking at my friend with benefits". On the other hand, the University announced it can take 107 more students from the waiting list". Yay.
MERCY, it is me isn't it? I want people to be reasonable. I want people to understand that guns do kill people. Just like knives cut meat. They don't do it by themselves, it takes a human to use the apparatus.
If your car had an issue that hurt a person it would be recalled and fixed so you don't die. If a child accidentally killed itself on a cord from a window shade the entire industry would have to change their design. But hand guns are meant to kill people, nothing else. Can't recall them for being good at their purpose.
I hear you too. "I am a responsible gun owner. I know how and when to use a gun. I would not go berserk and kill people. I have more reason than say those people who lose it everyday somewhere in this country and kill someone else".
My dad was you. He was a farmer, grew up around guns. When I was trying to keep him from drinking himself to death, a symptom of his dementia, I found 2 hand guns in his house, loaded. He needed to be around loaded guns like I need some more husbands. He was perfecrtly rational until he wasn't. Thank God I found the guns and not him. He wouldn't have a face now, maybe. Or my mother might be dead, or me.
I said maybe.
That guy in Fort Hood. He knew all about guns. He used them very well. He had been trained in safety and accuracy. Then he went crazy and killed people. Did you notice the soldiers didn't have loaded weapons? They save those for war. To kill the enemy.
Please do not wave the second amendment at me. READ IT. Then give me report on what it says. Then read some history. Not enough to hurt, just the parts that started America. The standing up to the King part. The Boston Tea Party part, the Intolerable Acts part. Read a little Jefferson. We will discuss this issue then.
Yes, I just gave you another reason to think or not think and just "unfriend" me or send me a private, ugly message. See, I just say it out loud. You apparently don't have that courage.
Maybe if you were holding your gun.
Lillybell
WEST WING STORY
I am a sap for musicals. Mainly the musicals of my childhood when we would go to Casa Manana in Cowtown and marvel first at the building, "Dad, the building is round", "yes, daughter, a circle is 360 degrees, we are going halfway around...how many degrees will we have gone after we sit down?" 360 DEGREES? Wouldn't we be on fire?" Then marvel at the show.
I fell in love with West Side Story at the age of 10. It was the most romantic, gritty thing I had ever seen. All that singing and dancing and finger snapping passed for a gang war.
This all got me thinking, wouldn't that be a great way to end the gridlock in Washington D.C.? Have Obama and Bane-r sing and dance and finger snap off to settle the debt issues. What they are doing now is wasting more of our time and money. They already act like two gangs ready to rumble. The Dems and the GOP. The Reds and The Blues.
OPENING NUMBER......
The dems are gonna have their way tonight
The dems are gonna have their way tonight
The GOP is saying, no way
That rich people are paying the bills anyway
Tonight, tonight....we will debate tonight
Tonight we will point fingers and say.....
Tonight, tonight due-ling bullshit tonight
All you DEMS should just do it our waaaaaay
Today all day I had a feeling
That I might be on camera
If I get a sound bite
Oh look at me,
I am so damn much smarter than he.....TONIIIIIIIIGHT
followed by
When you're a DEM your a DEM all the way
From your first senate vote to your last dying day
When you're a DEM you are sneered at by boobs
Who spend all of their time sitting watching FOX NEWS
The Dems lost the house
The GOP was smiling
They talked of "the way"
But now they're only wailing
they can't go sailing
they want to see all their rich cronies stay
Just the way that they are and not pay, just delay
they want to say that the DEMS are all wrong
About every old thing, it's the same damn old song
The dems are pink-os
They talk of socialism
The Reds want to win
To save their fancy buddies from real-ism
Then in the final act:
A bill like that would hurt your brother
Forget that bill and find another
One that won't tax us
One that won't tax us
A bill that spends cannot save
A bill that spends is just a way
to help the poor, and tax the rich
very nice, you commie sons-a-bitch
See where I am going here? Really, they are putting on a show just like Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland did in the movies to help every cause. Why not add a little song and dance? It would be vastly more entertaining and then America could vote for the best singer in the sing off.
We vote more frequently for American Idol than for our leaders anyway.
Smoke on your pipe and put that in.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
I fell in love with West Side Story at the age of 10. It was the most romantic, gritty thing I had ever seen. All that singing and dancing and finger snapping passed for a gang war.
This all got me thinking, wouldn't that be a great way to end the gridlock in Washington D.C.? Have Obama and Bane-r sing and dance and finger snap off to settle the debt issues. What they are doing now is wasting more of our time and money. They already act like two gangs ready to rumble. The Dems and the GOP. The Reds and The Blues.
OPENING NUMBER......
The dems are gonna have their way tonight
The dems are gonna have their way tonight
The GOP is saying, no way
That rich people are paying the bills anyway
Tonight, tonight....we will debate tonight
Tonight we will point fingers and say.....
Tonight, tonight due-ling bullshit tonight
All you DEMS should just do it our waaaaaay
Today all day I had a feeling
That I might be on camera
If I get a sound bite
Oh look at me,
I am so damn much smarter than he.....TONIIIIIIIIGHT
followed by
When you're a DEM your a DEM all the way
From your first senate vote to your last dying day
When you're a DEM you are sneered at by boobs
Who spend all of their time sitting watching FOX NEWS
The Dems lost the house
The GOP was smiling
They talked of "the way"
But now they're only wailing
they can't go sailing
they want to see all their rich cronies stay
Just the way that they are and not pay, just delay
they want to say that the DEMS are all wrong
About every old thing, it's the same damn old song
The dems are pink-os
They talk of socialism
The Reds want to win
To save their fancy buddies from real-ism
Then in the final act:
A bill like that would hurt your brother
Forget that bill and find another
One that won't tax us
One that won't tax us
A bill that spends cannot save
A bill that spends is just a way
to help the poor, and tax the rich
very nice, you commie sons-a-bitch
See where I am going here? Really, they are putting on a show just like Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland did in the movies to help every cause. Why not add a little song and dance? It would be vastly more entertaining and then America could vote for the best singer in the sing off.
We vote more frequently for American Idol than for our leaders anyway.
Smoke on your pipe and put that in.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Monday, July 25, 2011
PRETTY EASY TO STOP A TRANE - YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME
I believe on occasion I have mentioned how much bad customer service makes me want to pull my hair. This is partly because being a customer is frustrating. The vast majority of my customer service "thang" is because I used to be nice for a living. At that stage of my life I hated customers. Sorry, there is a big disconnect...no pun intended....immediately when you speak to someone on the phone. The statistic then, wonder who they paid to determine this, was that only 40 percent of what you are saying is conveyed by words. The rest is communicated through facial expression and gestures, body posture, etc.
When someone speaks to me in customer service they are 100 percent aware of what I am saying. I learned from being on the other end that you speak slowly. You repeat things twice, like your name, You spell that for them upfront if it is an unusual spelling. If they are good at their job they will write or capture this information on a terminal first time. Then you explain simply your issue. Do not start off angry, then it has no power. Be nice, then lose it when you realize the person you are talking to couldn't get out of a box.
I don't normally name names. I have waited a month or so to get over my experience with Trane, but no, today is the day I am going to express my displeasure with Trane Air Conditioning. You're welcome up front...
Five years ago I purchased two Trane Air Conditioner units to keep my home cool. Bought my home in 1993. Fell IN LOVE with the soaring ceilings and the turned stairs in the "great room". AND the skylight...squeal. Then walked into the master bedroom and shivered. 28 foot ceiling. Crown mold, ooooh. Please, may I buy this one????
Then I moved in July. Those real tall ceilings? HOT. Real HOT. My house faces WEST, due west. HUGE windows all facing WEST. That's my fault. Bought a house that is like a magnifying glass to ants.
The house came with the builders York AC units. A big one for downstairs, a smaller for upstairs. Yeah, BTUs, tons....blah, blah, blah, man talk. Never enough cool air. I always kept the AC units and furnaces on a maintenance contract with the company who installed them. They are an awesome company. The first time the Yorks were serviced the tech explained that the units wouldn't really last very long. They were cheap, builders units and that is why the house is too hot. The units really weren't sufficient to cool hell.
Ergo, five years ago we painfully hacked up fourteen thousand dollars....not credit...dollars, we had saved to have Trane units, better duct work, etc. installed in our house. I got out my sweaters. I was going to be cold. Then I bought solar screens. Then I had a friend build solid shutters to cover the windows in the master bedroom. That sucker is a cave. My Trane units hummed along.
Last summer, on a Friday afternoon where the heat WAS the news it seemed hot downstairs. I fearfully looked at the thermostat and the clock. 82 degrees in my house at 4:42 p.m. I called my maintenance company and explained my problem and promised I would stay up all night if only they would fix my five year old, under warranty unit. Saturday morning they arrived. My tears were a little embarrassing. We were going to be cool again. NO, we weren't. "These capacitors don't hold up in this heat." said the poor man who was about to understand that I found that to be incredulous. "So, you have one in the truck?". Of course not, those have to be ordered. I was cool by Tuesday afternoon.
OK, once the cool was with me, I got over the capacitor issue. Until this summer when it happened to my upstairs unit. Excuse me? That is simply wrong. Called my maintenance company, told them what happened, bet them it was a capacitor and asked for a phone number for Trane Manufacturing. I swear they misunderstood and thought I had asked for launch codes to release nuclear warheads. I could her a truck racing to my house to fix my unit.
No, I wanted to express my displeasure to Trane and explain that the lowest bidder is not always the best choice. They are installing capacitors in AC units. They should tolerate HEAT. Pretty simple. After really begging for a phone number I got Trane customer relations.
Admittedly, I was already irked and getting HOT. Then I spent ten minutes being told how important my call is. I always time my wait just in case I need to mention it at some point in the conversation. This young man answered the phone by announcing his name and he was Customer Relations. I told him I had waited 10 minutes to tell him that you can indeed stop a Trane. He told me sternly that there slogan is "It's HARD to stop a Trane". I replied, "not with those cheap capacitors you use. I lost my second unit in two years. They are only 5 years old." He told me he didn't have to talk to me with my attitude and hung up on me.
BIG MISTAKE. I called back. I asked to speak to the most senior, important person in the facility. The name at the top of the organization chart. "We don't really have anyone like that", was the answer I got. "Really, there isn't someone who walks in the door and suddenly everyone looks busy? That is the person I want to talk to". I was sent back to customer relations. They connected me to SALES. I called back.
Now I was done with snide. I was pissed. "I need the name, email address and mailing address of the CEO of Trane, please. I have a letter to write and follow up emails." "We don't have email". "Then the physical address and name please". "You know", she said, "I'm not sure who that is and I don't have any kind of address for anywhere but this location". "You don't know the name of the person who runs the company you answer the phone for?". "Well, I'm kinda new". "Like from the womb new?...let me please talk to the HEAD of customer relations, not a rep, the BIG person in customer relations". I could see her twirling her hair and chewing her gum as she worked very hard to transfer a call.
This customer relations woman gave me a name and phone number for a location in Tyler. THANK YOU. Called that number asked for the person Scott somebody. "We don't have anyone here by that name". I was silent for a moment. Good one. They were beating me at my game. "Then may I please speak with your most senior, important Grand Pooba?" "If you ain't got a name, I cain't help you". Click.
Trane Manufacturing, you win the customer service run around award. You have the worst customer service I have ever dealt with. AND I have dealt with all my parent's creditors and financial institutions and the HR department that holds all my father's retirement information. Congratulations. They just merely sucked. You are the HOOVER of customer service. NO, you are the DYSON of customer service.
Allow me to use this forum to simply explain: Air Conditioning is to keep one cool. The parts used to make the units should be able to withstand heat. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?
Lillybell Blues, from hell
When someone speaks to me in customer service they are 100 percent aware of what I am saying. I learned from being on the other end that you speak slowly. You repeat things twice, like your name, You spell that for them upfront if it is an unusual spelling. If they are good at their job they will write or capture this information on a terminal first time. Then you explain simply your issue. Do not start off angry, then it has no power. Be nice, then lose it when you realize the person you are talking to couldn't get out of a box.
I don't normally name names. I have waited a month or so to get over my experience with Trane, but no, today is the day I am going to express my displeasure with Trane Air Conditioning. You're welcome up front...
Five years ago I purchased two Trane Air Conditioner units to keep my home cool. Bought my home in 1993. Fell IN LOVE with the soaring ceilings and the turned stairs in the "great room". AND the skylight...squeal. Then walked into the master bedroom and shivered. 28 foot ceiling. Crown mold, ooooh. Please, may I buy this one????
Then I moved in July. Those real tall ceilings? HOT. Real HOT. My house faces WEST, due west. HUGE windows all facing WEST. That's my fault. Bought a house that is like a magnifying glass to ants.
The house came with the builders York AC units. A big one for downstairs, a smaller for upstairs. Yeah, BTUs, tons....blah, blah, blah, man talk. Never enough cool air. I always kept the AC units and furnaces on a maintenance contract with the company who installed them. They are an awesome company. The first time the Yorks were serviced the tech explained that the units wouldn't really last very long. They were cheap, builders units and that is why the house is too hot. The units really weren't sufficient to cool hell.
Ergo, five years ago we painfully hacked up fourteen thousand dollars....not credit...dollars, we had saved to have Trane units, better duct work, etc. installed in our house. I got out my sweaters. I was going to be cold. Then I bought solar screens. Then I had a friend build solid shutters to cover the windows in the master bedroom. That sucker is a cave. My Trane units hummed along.
Last summer, on a Friday afternoon where the heat WAS the news it seemed hot downstairs. I fearfully looked at the thermostat and the clock. 82 degrees in my house at 4:42 p.m. I called my maintenance company and explained my problem and promised I would stay up all night if only they would fix my five year old, under warranty unit. Saturday morning they arrived. My tears were a little embarrassing. We were going to be cool again. NO, we weren't. "These capacitors don't hold up in this heat." said the poor man who was about to understand that I found that to be incredulous. "So, you have one in the truck?". Of course not, those have to be ordered. I was cool by Tuesday afternoon.
OK, once the cool was with me, I got over the capacitor issue. Until this summer when it happened to my upstairs unit. Excuse me? That is simply wrong. Called my maintenance company, told them what happened, bet them it was a capacitor and asked for a phone number for Trane Manufacturing. I swear they misunderstood and thought I had asked for launch codes to release nuclear warheads. I could her a truck racing to my house to fix my unit.
No, I wanted to express my displeasure to Trane and explain that the lowest bidder is not always the best choice. They are installing capacitors in AC units. They should tolerate HEAT. Pretty simple. After really begging for a phone number I got Trane customer relations.
Admittedly, I was already irked and getting HOT. Then I spent ten minutes being told how important my call is. I always time my wait just in case I need to mention it at some point in the conversation. This young man answered the phone by announcing his name and he was Customer Relations. I told him I had waited 10 minutes to tell him that you can indeed stop a Trane. He told me sternly that there slogan is "It's HARD to stop a Trane". I replied, "not with those cheap capacitors you use. I lost my second unit in two years. They are only 5 years old." He told me he didn't have to talk to me with my attitude and hung up on me.
BIG MISTAKE. I called back. I asked to speak to the most senior, important person in the facility. The name at the top of the organization chart. "We don't really have anyone like that", was the answer I got. "Really, there isn't someone who walks in the door and suddenly everyone looks busy? That is the person I want to talk to". I was sent back to customer relations. They connected me to SALES. I called back.
Now I was done with snide. I was pissed. "I need the name, email address and mailing address of the CEO of Trane, please. I have a letter to write and follow up emails." "We don't have email". "Then the physical address and name please". "You know", she said, "I'm not sure who that is and I don't have any kind of address for anywhere but this location". "You don't know the name of the person who runs the company you answer the phone for?". "Well, I'm kinda new". "Like from the womb new?...let me please talk to the HEAD of customer relations, not a rep, the BIG person in customer relations". I could see her twirling her hair and chewing her gum as she worked very hard to transfer a call.
This customer relations woman gave me a name and phone number for a location in Tyler. THANK YOU. Called that number asked for the person Scott somebody. "We don't have anyone here by that name". I was silent for a moment. Good one. They were beating me at my game. "Then may I please speak with your most senior, important Grand Pooba?" "If you ain't got a name, I cain't help you". Click.
Trane Manufacturing, you win the customer service run around award. You have the worst customer service I have ever dealt with. AND I have dealt with all my parent's creditors and financial institutions and the HR department that holds all my father's retirement information. Congratulations. They just merely sucked. You are the HOOVER of customer service. NO, you are the DYSON of customer service.
Allow me to use this forum to simply explain: Air Conditioning is to keep one cool. The parts used to make the units should be able to withstand heat. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?
Lillybell Blues, from hell
Sunday, July 24, 2011
REMEMBER WHEN WONDER WAS A GOOD THING?
I am the first to admit I live in a little fantasy world from time to time, OK, daily. I am of the opinion that life should be enjoyable. Life should be full of wonder That, yes, we all get handed lemons and it is at this point everyone should jump in and help to squeeze the lemons so we can all have lemon aid. Some people call this Communism. I call it Hippieism. I am not sure how the generation I grew up with became the generation it is now. I am in wonder that the Tea Party is a spawn of the same people who wanted to "love your brother". Now they want "your brother" is stay where he belongs.
I should never turn on my television. I like to be informed and since I am brilliantly gifted I can listen to what's going on, (I mean brilliant like walking and chewing gum), while actually doing something. Turning on the television is action number three or four in my stroll from bedroom to diet coke. Then, BAM, something strikes me as so absurd or so incredibly foolish that I find myself here venting. My husband loves this by the way. He has to listen to me less. I used to talk to the television, now I just fill cyberspace with wonder. WONDER WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED.
The NFL, NBA lock outs to me are full of wonder. They are the metaphor of what is wrong with the world. Please try and put yourself in my little world of butterflies and bunnies for just a minute because this is how I would write the story.
Once upon a time there were boys who loved to play certain games. Tough games. Games that break bones and can cause serious injuries. The love of the game, the thrill of the competition, the need to be part of something that WINS was enough. The feeling of accomplishment. Strutting with your team, that swagger that says it all. They played for GLORY.
The losers of these contests pushed themselves to be better, to win, to be able to be one of the strutters. There cannot be one among these boys who didn't dream of scoring the winning points in the Super Bowl or the Championship game. Like little girls wanted to be princesses, or in my case a Beatle, these boys wanted to be heroes on the field or the court. It filled childhood with wonder.
Some of these boys had enough talent to play in high school. Fewer had the talent to play in college. Fewer, the best of the best, the tiniest percentage play professionally. They live the dream.
Then they become greedy, spoiled, snotty bastards. Why does this happen? In my opinion, I gave up on the humble part, it is because at some point in time a rich white guy figured out he could make money off of competition. That ruined everything.
Now we have The Haves and The Owns arguing over billions of dollars. And those of us who love the sport are begging them to please settle their problems so we can spend more money than is reasonable to sit in a temple built for the heroes to compete in. Yeah, not me. Not this time. Pardon my English, BITE ME.
I can't say I won't watch for free on TV, I will. I will not buy anything with an NFL logo. I will not buy the advertisers products. It's mainly beer and I don't drink that anyway. I certainly won't go to a game. That isn't a protest, that is a financial reality. I will watch college football and given the chance I will go see a college game. Those players are just spoiled not snotty.
In Lillybell World where in my mind I run everything, this is how the lockout would end. I would take the billions in questions. Then I would slap everyone in the room with one of those HUGE checks for said amount and then I would divide the money among the people about to lose their homes. I'm not stupid enough to give it to the lenders. Then they would all be forced to listen to me rant about why greed does not pay because it makes me mad.
I hate suffering. It makes me mad. I hate people who take advantage of things they don't need. That makes me mad too. I hate watching people whine about BILLIONS of dollars while children go hungry every single day. Does that make me a Communist? I thought it made me human.
What hurts me the most is that WE are doing this. The Peace and Love generation. That lasted what? Three days? What makes me feel stupid is that I still believe that. We should take care of our brother. When that brother starts to get greedy and just wants to be lazy, that brother has to clean out the pig pen. I think we should give of what we have. It doesn't hurt me to give someone what I know I have enough of. I'm not rich, I am comfortable. My brother is hungry, I have two burgers....he gets one. Is that so wrong?
Some Native American cultures believed in proving your wealth by giving away your excess. A Potlatch, probably spelled wrong or perhaps even the wrong word, but there was an official ceremony to give your stuff away to those who had less. It proved your place in society and took care of the society for the benefit of all. It didn't stop competition, it didn't stop people from wanting more, they just wanted it for a different purpose. To share, not to bloat themselves.
Tinkerbell is here, gotta go. We bells gotta stick together.
Lillybell
I should never turn on my television. I like to be informed and since I am brilliantly gifted I can listen to what's going on, (I mean brilliant like walking and chewing gum), while actually doing something. Turning on the television is action number three or four in my stroll from bedroom to diet coke. Then, BAM, something strikes me as so absurd or so incredibly foolish that I find myself here venting. My husband loves this by the way. He has to listen to me less. I used to talk to the television, now I just fill cyberspace with wonder. WONDER WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED.
The NFL, NBA lock outs to me are full of wonder. They are the metaphor of what is wrong with the world. Please try and put yourself in my little world of butterflies and bunnies for just a minute because this is how I would write the story.
Once upon a time there were boys who loved to play certain games. Tough games. Games that break bones and can cause serious injuries. The love of the game, the thrill of the competition, the need to be part of something that WINS was enough. The feeling of accomplishment. Strutting with your team, that swagger that says it all. They played for GLORY.
The losers of these contests pushed themselves to be better, to win, to be able to be one of the strutters. There cannot be one among these boys who didn't dream of scoring the winning points in the Super Bowl or the Championship game. Like little girls wanted to be princesses, or in my case a Beatle, these boys wanted to be heroes on the field or the court. It filled childhood with wonder.
Some of these boys had enough talent to play in high school. Fewer had the talent to play in college. Fewer, the best of the best, the tiniest percentage play professionally. They live the dream.
Then they become greedy, spoiled, snotty bastards. Why does this happen? In my opinion, I gave up on the humble part, it is because at some point in time a rich white guy figured out he could make money off of competition. That ruined everything.
Now we have The Haves and The Owns arguing over billions of dollars. And those of us who love the sport are begging them to please settle their problems so we can spend more money than is reasonable to sit in a temple built for the heroes to compete in. Yeah, not me. Not this time. Pardon my English, BITE ME.
I can't say I won't watch for free on TV, I will. I will not buy anything with an NFL logo. I will not buy the advertisers products. It's mainly beer and I don't drink that anyway. I certainly won't go to a game. That isn't a protest, that is a financial reality. I will watch college football and given the chance I will go see a college game. Those players are just spoiled not snotty.
In Lillybell World where in my mind I run everything, this is how the lockout would end. I would take the billions in questions. Then I would slap everyone in the room with one of those HUGE checks for said amount and then I would divide the money among the people about to lose their homes. I'm not stupid enough to give it to the lenders. Then they would all be forced to listen to me rant about why greed does not pay because it makes me mad.
I hate suffering. It makes me mad. I hate people who take advantage of things they don't need. That makes me mad too. I hate watching people whine about BILLIONS of dollars while children go hungry every single day. Does that make me a Communist? I thought it made me human.
What hurts me the most is that WE are doing this. The Peace and Love generation. That lasted what? Three days? What makes me feel stupid is that I still believe that. We should take care of our brother. When that brother starts to get greedy and just wants to be lazy, that brother has to clean out the pig pen. I think we should give of what we have. It doesn't hurt me to give someone what I know I have enough of. I'm not rich, I am comfortable. My brother is hungry, I have two burgers....he gets one. Is that so wrong?
Some Native American cultures believed in proving your wealth by giving away your excess. A Potlatch, probably spelled wrong or perhaps even the wrong word, but there was an official ceremony to give your stuff away to those who had less. It proved your place in society and took care of the society for the benefit of all. It didn't stop competition, it didn't stop people from wanting more, they just wanted it for a different purpose. To share, not to bloat themselves.
Tinkerbell is here, gotta go. We bells gotta stick together.
Lillybell
Saturday, July 23, 2011
THE UNCIVIL WAR
I know that I have mentioned this before. Our nation is involved in uncivil war. The Reds and The Blues. This morning I can't help but wonder how this chapter of history will read. If there are people here able to read or people at all.
I keep having flashes of The Fall of Rome and The French Revolution. I see those scenarios in our future. We are quickly having a class war. The Reds have the money. The Blues want everyone to have basic needs. The Reds will not share because they give too much to support the nation. The Blues find this argument silly. Hello Red guys...you HAVE all the wealth of this nation. You don't want to pay more taxes because that prevents you from creating jobs in other nations.
Small business creates the jobs and they have the government is up their business with colonoscopes. The World Corps whine a little, get some money and tax breaks, then fire people. And the government just nods. It's Wall Street that matters? No, it's the citizens who matter. Red guys. Hard to invest NO money. Try it.
The Blues want to save the needy and the earth and society as we know it. The Blues think the Reds are greedy. The Reds think the Blues are Fascist's.
There is no civil discourse is Washington. There are carefully planned and crafted "moves". There are photo ops. There is beautiful lighting and make up artists to powder the talking heads before face time on television. There is finger pointing. The is party line rhetoric. There is campaigning. There is NOT leadership.
If you read my blog ever, you will recognize that I am a Blue. I like to think of myself as an Independent but I always vote left. The Red needs a head slap moment that they are not running a country club nation for their peers. I will vote Blue until they see this.
This doesn't mean that I am happy with my party. I'm not. Stop stooping. Don't hit that level of play ground, "am not", "are too", behavior. LEAD. Stand up and remind yourselves that you aren't wrong. The previous administration took the nation and ram roded it into poverty with their "policies" and vivid imaginations.
Me personally, I would have skipped the talks with the auto industry and BP. What was the point of talking to the rich and powerful executives and slapping their hands for the public to witness? That is called a dog and pony show. It isn't leadership and accomplished nothing except wasted time and money.
Still want my money back on that baseball investigation. And light bulbs? Yeah, need a refund for that waste.
I would have had a hearing with the Bush adminstration day one. WMDs...where are they again? Saddam had what to do with 9/11? How many people died in this war? How many will never recover from their injuries? You put finding Bin Laden on the back burner to invade Iraq why again? And this all cost what? And it will be paid for how?
But that's me. I like accountability. I like reality. I don't like false patriotism based on personal vendetta.
Of course I also think Dick Cheney is the Tin Man, no, the Scarecrow. Maybe the bastard child of both. No heart. No brain.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
I keep having flashes of The Fall of Rome and The French Revolution. I see those scenarios in our future. We are quickly having a class war. The Reds have the money. The Blues want everyone to have basic needs. The Reds will not share because they give too much to support the nation. The Blues find this argument silly. Hello Red guys...you HAVE all the wealth of this nation. You don't want to pay more taxes because that prevents you from creating jobs in other nations.
Small business creates the jobs and they have the government is up their business with colonoscopes. The World Corps whine a little, get some money and tax breaks, then fire people. And the government just nods. It's Wall Street that matters? No, it's the citizens who matter. Red guys. Hard to invest NO money. Try it.
The Blues want to save the needy and the earth and society as we know it. The Blues think the Reds are greedy. The Reds think the Blues are Fascist's.
There is no civil discourse is Washington. There are carefully planned and crafted "moves". There are photo ops. There is beautiful lighting and make up artists to powder the talking heads before face time on television. There is finger pointing. The is party line rhetoric. There is campaigning. There is NOT leadership.
If you read my blog ever, you will recognize that I am a Blue. I like to think of myself as an Independent but I always vote left. The Red needs a head slap moment that they are not running a country club nation for their peers. I will vote Blue until they see this.
This doesn't mean that I am happy with my party. I'm not. Stop stooping. Don't hit that level of play ground, "am not", "are too", behavior. LEAD. Stand up and remind yourselves that you aren't wrong. The previous administration took the nation and ram roded it into poverty with their "policies" and vivid imaginations.
Me personally, I would have skipped the talks with the auto industry and BP. What was the point of talking to the rich and powerful executives and slapping their hands for the public to witness? That is called a dog and pony show. It isn't leadership and accomplished nothing except wasted time and money.
Still want my money back on that baseball investigation. And light bulbs? Yeah, need a refund for that waste.
I would have had a hearing with the Bush adminstration day one. WMDs...where are they again? Saddam had what to do with 9/11? How many people died in this war? How many will never recover from their injuries? You put finding Bin Laden on the back burner to invade Iraq why again? And this all cost what? And it will be paid for how?
But that's me. I like accountability. I like reality. I don't like false patriotism based on personal vendetta.
Of course I also think Dick Cheney is the Tin Man, no, the Scarecrow. Maybe the bastard child of both. No heart. No brain.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Friday, July 22, 2011
INSOMNIA
Sleepless nights. We've all had them. Sometimes because of something too difficult to let go of. Sometimes it's because you met that someone special and they are so hard to let go of. Sometimes it's because that someone special accidentally fell into that woman's vagina. Or your girlfriend accidently got stuck on that guy's penis. That is not insomnia. I only mention this because the next person who asks me, "why don't you sleep?", is going to be face planted on a hard surface.
See, I have insomnia. First experienced it in high school. When I was a Corporate Diva insomnia was my nemesis. After a while it becomes apparent to others that you are not sleeping. People start to ask you if you are OK because you look like hammered, reeking, death. When you explain the insomnia problem, and I guess it is natural, the next question is always: "why don't you sleep?". I have always tried nicely to explain: if I knew the answer to that I would be famous and rich and not have to waste my time explaining why my hands are around your throat as I am talking.
Insomnia is not so much being unable to sleep. It is being unable to turn off your brain. "Turn off your mind relax and float downstream", thank you, John Lennon and the Tibetan Book of the Dead. WHERE IS THE OFF BUTTON?
Insomnia is sleeping in short bursts that never allow REM sleep. Just a few minutes here and there and you awaken already in mid thought. Like, zzzzzzzzz, cat food, didn't get it. damn they will be hungry in, 3 hours and 45 minutes, must go to the store zzzzzzzzzzzzz first thing, must go to the store, wonder what else I need zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz since I can't sleep maybe I should just get up and make the grocery list zzzzzzzzzzzz BANK, have to go by the bank zzzzzzzz that woman was soooo annoying I really wanted to reach across the table zzzzzzzzz and explain POLITE zzzz to her smugness. zzzzzzzzzzz what was that noise? cats on plastic? no, rain on tin foil? zzzzzzzz that doesn't make sense, better see what zzzzzzzz quiet now. zzzzzzzzzz wonder why the government is so stupid zzzzzzzzzz wouldn't it be better if zzzzzzz.
I think you get it. It's like chatter, all night. Like a radio station that you can barely pick up, distant but enough to keep your attention.
Yeah, shut up in there.
Over the years doctors have given me many things to help me sleep. Some of them were comatose awesome. They don't let you have those anymore. Ambien and Lunesta are supposed to be THE cure. NOPE. That little green butterfly never showed in my room and Ambien just makes me wonder how many times I wandered around the house eating almonds last night. I have unexplained bruises from bumping into furniture.
My husband, of course, sleeps the minute he closes his eyes and snores within 30 seconds. We have a constant shuffling of, "I'll go to the couch", "NO, then I can't wander....I'll go to the couch". "No, then you won't sleep at all. I'll go upstairs and sleep, you stay down here and wander. Try and sleep". LIKE I'M NOT TRYING!!, I mean "goodnight".
It's morning, now I'm tired. I could sleep like a 4 year old, but no, I have things that must be done today so I will just be tired. I am tired of tired.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Lillybell zzzzzz Blues
See, I have insomnia. First experienced it in high school. When I was a Corporate Diva insomnia was my nemesis. After a while it becomes apparent to others that you are not sleeping. People start to ask you if you are OK because you look like hammered, reeking, death. When you explain the insomnia problem, and I guess it is natural, the next question is always: "why don't you sleep?". I have always tried nicely to explain: if I knew the answer to that I would be famous and rich and not have to waste my time explaining why my hands are around your throat as I am talking.
Insomnia is not so much being unable to sleep. It is being unable to turn off your brain. "Turn off your mind relax and float downstream", thank you, John Lennon and the Tibetan Book of the Dead. WHERE IS THE OFF BUTTON?
Insomnia is sleeping in short bursts that never allow REM sleep. Just a few minutes here and there and you awaken already in mid thought. Like, zzzzzzzzz, cat food, didn't get it. damn they will be hungry in, 3 hours and 45 minutes, must go to the store zzzzzzzzzzzzz first thing, must go to the store, wonder what else I need zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz since I can't sleep maybe I should just get up and make the grocery list zzzzzzzzzzzz BANK, have to go by the bank zzzzzzzz that woman was soooo annoying I really wanted to reach across the table zzzzzzzzz and explain POLITE zzzz to her smugness. zzzzzzzzzzz what was that noise? cats on plastic? no, rain on tin foil? zzzzzzzz that doesn't make sense, better see what zzzzzzzz quiet now. zzzzzzzzzz wonder why the government is so stupid zzzzzzzzzz wouldn't it be better if zzzzzzz.
I think you get it. It's like chatter, all night. Like a radio station that you can barely pick up, distant but enough to keep your attention.
Yeah, shut up in there.
Over the years doctors have given me many things to help me sleep. Some of them were comatose awesome. They don't let you have those anymore. Ambien and Lunesta are supposed to be THE cure. NOPE. That little green butterfly never showed in my room and Ambien just makes me wonder how many times I wandered around the house eating almonds last night. I have unexplained bruises from bumping into furniture.
My husband, of course, sleeps the minute he closes his eyes and snores within 30 seconds. We have a constant shuffling of, "I'll go to the couch", "NO, then I can't wander....I'll go to the couch". "No, then you won't sleep at all. I'll go upstairs and sleep, you stay down here and wander. Try and sleep". LIKE I'M NOT TRYING!!, I mean "goodnight".
It's morning, now I'm tired. I could sleep like a 4 year old, but no, I have things that must be done today so I will just be tired. I am tired of tired.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Lillybell zzzzzz Blues
Thursday, July 21, 2011
I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY SERVE SLUTS IN HERE
I have a friend I see maybe once a month, him and/or his girlfriend/roommate. We meet at the same place, a neighborhood restaurant/bar, (the same place that inspired, "Today's Body Art is Tomorrows What The Hell Is That?). Tonight I thought maybe I was in a whore house.
Funny story. Shaneequa and I were in the hill country to visit our friend Ruby some years back. Shaneequa and I stopped at the local barbecue restaurant to get weekend food before we bee lined it for what we consider to be our retreat. Great friends, three and a half acres, house, pool, homey, like family. It is either peaceful or we are laughing so hard we cry. Sometimes we have those very serious discussions and resolve all the problems of the world. Those kind of friends.
Shaneequa and I had stopped at the barbecue place before but they didn't know us, yet. We are waiting for our order when someone opened the door and yelled indignantly, "I CAN"T BELIEVE THEY SERVE SLUTS IN HERE!". It was our friend Ruby. She saw my car and thought she'd give us something to talk about. Shaneequa and I laughed a little thinking the owners and patrons must know of our friend, but no. Owner asked if we knew who she was as he handed us our sacks of food. "She's our madam", I said. It's our favorite story now. We're the Fort Worth Sluts.
OK, back to heresthedeal. Tonight we all sat at the bar as dudes seem to find this a necessary part of the experience. Tables...BORING, the action is at the bar. The naked women are apparently at the bar too. Usually the women are either dressed like they just got off the running path and it's time to have beer or just got off work and NEED to have lots of something.
The woman to my right apparently forgot her skirt. Really. Not just short, gone. I am more familiar with her inner thigh than my own. The other women must have called each other and declared it boobage night. It was nipply in there. Women of all shapes and sizes and ages were basically wearing as little as could be considered legal. I looked around to see if perhaps the tables had become small booths for quickies but, no, moms and kids waiting at the table while dads got drinks at the bar cause it's faster. I felt like the house mom in my skirt and slightly revealing tee shirt. One woman, whose breasts were bigger than some watermelons I have seen kept losing her support. I can't imagine how she carries these breasts but resting them on the bar seemed to help. I told her to have the mole on her nipple checked out. Doing my public duty. These women fidgeted to keep their privates semi private. The seemed really uncomfortable checking this one and the one and down there. I have an idea. Put on some real clothes, that fit you. Those REAL TIGHT things look good in the mirror when you pull them just so, in the back you look like the victim of a wedgie. That spaghetti strapped dress that gives you boobage big enough to rest your chin looks the same in the back. And thong girl, she didn't get the boobage memo. She got the wear a string between your butt cheeks that can be seem over the jeans that cover your pelvic bone.
Maybe it was a long lost chapter of sister strippers with founding members in attendance. Maybe it was some initiation into the Fredrick's of Hollywood sisterhood. it was weird. I got the feeling that maybe it was pole dance contest night.
I'm old fashioned in more way than one I guess. I believe in just enough skin, too much is an advertisement. I also don't pole dance. However, I have some killer fan dance moves...told you I was old fashioned.
not really, cats ate the fans.
Sluts, put some clothes on in public. Wear your costumes at home. Don't take pictures.
You're welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Funny story. Shaneequa and I were in the hill country to visit our friend Ruby some years back. Shaneequa and I stopped at the local barbecue restaurant to get weekend food before we bee lined it for what we consider to be our retreat. Great friends, three and a half acres, house, pool, homey, like family. It is either peaceful or we are laughing so hard we cry. Sometimes we have those very serious discussions and resolve all the problems of the world. Those kind of friends.
Shaneequa and I had stopped at the barbecue place before but they didn't know us, yet. We are waiting for our order when someone opened the door and yelled indignantly, "I CAN"T BELIEVE THEY SERVE SLUTS IN HERE!". It was our friend Ruby. She saw my car and thought she'd give us something to talk about. Shaneequa and I laughed a little thinking the owners and patrons must know of our friend, but no. Owner asked if we knew who she was as he handed us our sacks of food. "She's our madam", I said. It's our favorite story now. We're the Fort Worth Sluts.
OK, back to heresthedeal. Tonight we all sat at the bar as dudes seem to find this a necessary part of the experience. Tables...BORING, the action is at the bar. The naked women are apparently at the bar too. Usually the women are either dressed like they just got off the running path and it's time to have beer or just got off work and NEED to have lots of something.
The woman to my right apparently forgot her skirt. Really. Not just short, gone. I am more familiar with her inner thigh than my own. The other women must have called each other and declared it boobage night. It was nipply in there. Women of all shapes and sizes and ages were basically wearing as little as could be considered legal. I looked around to see if perhaps the tables had become small booths for quickies but, no, moms and kids waiting at the table while dads got drinks at the bar cause it's faster. I felt like the house mom in my skirt and slightly revealing tee shirt. One woman, whose breasts were bigger than some watermelons I have seen kept losing her support. I can't imagine how she carries these breasts but resting them on the bar seemed to help. I told her to have the mole on her nipple checked out. Doing my public duty. These women fidgeted to keep their privates semi private. The seemed really uncomfortable checking this one and the one and down there. I have an idea. Put on some real clothes, that fit you. Those REAL TIGHT things look good in the mirror when you pull them just so, in the back you look like the victim of a wedgie. That spaghetti strapped dress that gives you boobage big enough to rest your chin looks the same in the back. And thong girl, she didn't get the boobage memo. She got the wear a string between your butt cheeks that can be seem over the jeans that cover your pelvic bone.
Maybe it was a long lost chapter of sister strippers with founding members in attendance. Maybe it was some initiation into the Fredrick's of Hollywood sisterhood. it was weird. I got the feeling that maybe it was pole dance contest night.
I'm old fashioned in more way than one I guess. I believe in just enough skin, too much is an advertisement. I also don't pole dance. However, I have some killer fan dance moves...told you I was old fashioned.
not really, cats ate the fans.
Sluts, put some clothes on in public. Wear your costumes at home. Don't take pictures.
You're welcome,
Lillybell Blues
CORPORATE AMERICA....is this the enemy?
Today is not funny or ironic. Today is simply angry. More people losing their jobs in Florida. Atlantis is home, for good. She is old and needs to stay on the ground. Her teams are losing their jobs, more unemployment here in America.
I know I have a very simple way of looking at things. I understand that I ignore the details of many subjects but this is black and white to me. Corporate America is ruining this nation. How does the government keep missing this?
This is how it always goes:
A corporation begins to suffer financially from competition, bad management, natural disaster or simply shoddy goods and services. Investors drop said company's stock when the profit margins don't allow dividend payments or grow investors portfolios. To improve the bottom line the corporation cuts costs. The biggest cost is paying employees and providing benefits. People lose their jobs, the company bounces back and becomes profitable. Good for them, people still don't have jobs.
Unions in manufacturing ruined that segment of industry in this nation. Yeah, I hear the union members belching. Heresthedeal, when you over stayed your usefulness, you got greedy. All your jobs went to Asia where they are thrilled to make a dollar a day. That left us a nation of consumers and sellers of products produced elsewhere and providers of service. That started the spiral.
Then the mergers began. Huge companies ate smaller ones and behold they had two people for every position. People lost their jobs. Then came the, oops, "we have been running our business on fraudulent financial information and our doors are closed now" businesses. Thank you, people lost their jobs.
Add the government agencies that destroyed the housing market and you have a perfect storm of failure.
We are headed for Third World status because the Red government and the Blue government only care about what color you wear. It's like gangs. The Crypts and The Bloods, The GOP and The Dems. They don't cross territoy. They don't deal. They just call you out for a beat down on camera and climb higher in the gang. They make me want to pull my hair.
The rich in this country are just fine, thank you. Just look at the NFL situation. If that doesn't say it all then I don't know what does. The rich don't want to pay more taxes because they already pay so much. Yes, they do. It is because they HAVE so much.
The people who live off the government are motivated to keep living that way because they get more support then. "You had another baby! Is that number 6?. Okay, your aid to dependent children just went up". That's how they get a raise. At least that's how it was when I had a husband whose customers were mainly poor and lived on government aid. They would come into the store and pick out what they wanted, "as soon as the baby comes". I am talking about televisions and washers, not cribs and diapers.
Corporate America stands before Congress and tells them how sorry they are they don't know how to run their business but really, "we are too big to fail". The government gives them tax loopholes and bail out money. They Corporations fire people and move jobs to a country with cheaper labor. The rich get richer, the middle class gets poorer. The poor live off the government.
This story doesn't end well. There is revolution involved. Not the American kind, the French kind. The beheading of the greedy and leeches kind. The, "keep taxing the peasants so the upper class can have more caviar", kind.
I will not make a good Hobo. I will not do well in a tent city. I am in the class that keeps getting bitch slapped by my government. I am of the ilk that will go to D.C. and march, when it's cooler, and ruffle feathers. The government works for me. The government works for you. I think it's time we remind them of that. Nothing says, "pissed off", like hundreds of thousands of people on the mall, in the park across from the White House, at the Lincoln Memorial, chanting...."OFF WITH THEIR HEADS". or maybe, "YOU'RE FIRED".
Donald Trump didn't get that copy write did he?
Grrrrrrrrrrr,
Lillybell Blues
I know I have a very simple way of looking at things. I understand that I ignore the details of many subjects but this is black and white to me. Corporate America is ruining this nation. How does the government keep missing this?
This is how it always goes:
A corporation begins to suffer financially from competition, bad management, natural disaster or simply shoddy goods and services. Investors drop said company's stock when the profit margins don't allow dividend payments or grow investors portfolios. To improve the bottom line the corporation cuts costs. The biggest cost is paying employees and providing benefits. People lose their jobs, the company bounces back and becomes profitable. Good for them, people still don't have jobs.
Unions in manufacturing ruined that segment of industry in this nation. Yeah, I hear the union members belching. Heresthedeal, when you over stayed your usefulness, you got greedy. All your jobs went to Asia where they are thrilled to make a dollar a day. That left us a nation of consumers and sellers of products produced elsewhere and providers of service. That started the spiral.
Then the mergers began. Huge companies ate smaller ones and behold they had two people for every position. People lost their jobs. Then came the, oops, "we have been running our business on fraudulent financial information and our doors are closed now" businesses. Thank you, people lost their jobs.
Add the government agencies that destroyed the housing market and you have a perfect storm of failure.
We are headed for Third World status because the Red government and the Blue government only care about what color you wear. It's like gangs. The Crypts and The Bloods, The GOP and The Dems. They don't cross territoy. They don't deal. They just call you out for a beat down on camera and climb higher in the gang. They make me want to pull my hair.
The rich in this country are just fine, thank you. Just look at the NFL situation. If that doesn't say it all then I don't know what does. The rich don't want to pay more taxes because they already pay so much. Yes, they do. It is because they HAVE so much.
The people who live off the government are motivated to keep living that way because they get more support then. "You had another baby! Is that number 6?. Okay, your aid to dependent children just went up". That's how they get a raise. At least that's how it was when I had a husband whose customers were mainly poor and lived on government aid. They would come into the store and pick out what they wanted, "as soon as the baby comes". I am talking about televisions and washers, not cribs and diapers.
Corporate America stands before Congress and tells them how sorry they are they don't know how to run their business but really, "we are too big to fail". The government gives them tax loopholes and bail out money. They Corporations fire people and move jobs to a country with cheaper labor. The rich get richer, the middle class gets poorer. The poor live off the government.
This story doesn't end well. There is revolution involved. Not the American kind, the French kind. The beheading of the greedy and leeches kind. The, "keep taxing the peasants so the upper class can have more caviar", kind.
I will not make a good Hobo. I will not do well in a tent city. I am in the class that keeps getting bitch slapped by my government. I am of the ilk that will go to D.C. and march, when it's cooler, and ruffle feathers. The government works for me. The government works for you. I think it's time we remind them of that. Nothing says, "pissed off", like hundreds of thousands of people on the mall, in the park across from the White House, at the Lincoln Memorial, chanting...."OFF WITH THEIR HEADS". or maybe, "YOU'RE FIRED".
Donald Trump didn't get that copy write did he?
Grrrrrrrrrrr,
Lillybell Blues
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
WHO MADE ME GODDESS?
I believe it was me who appointed myself Goddess of all things wise. I might have been born this way but I blame my dad. He knows everything and is rarely wrong, well, once upon a time. I think his family all has this "roll your eyes and tell them what what" gene.
I remember the first time I met my dad's family. I was maybe 8 years old. I had been to Utah for a family gathering as a baby but I didn't remember them and I am not sure they remembered me. I was stunned to learn how big my dad's family was. I knew he had 3 sisters and 2 brothers but I didn't understand the offspring situation.
We had a family reunion and needed name tags. We didn't have them but we needed them. My dad's nick name is Murph, so are his brother's. Three Murphs, one family. I wasn't sure what first cousins were but I had maybe 20 or so from grown ups to toddlers. My grandmother and her oldest daughter had children the same year. Ew. It was amazing to me. So much family so much talking.
This is when I learned that everyone in my family is correct about everything all the time. You don't agree, you are stubborn. You agree, you are smart. I was stubborn. My aunts and uncles went to town on everything. They were the first people I heard cuss. Helldamn, one word.
Fascinating to me at the time. Grating after 18 years of arguing over everything with dad and brother. At dinner. I love PSAs where they talk about how important it is to eat with your family. Only if you can't eat from the yelling and it keeps you very thin. We didn't have dinner so much as battle at my house.
Anyway I also discovered that my entire family is full of show offs. I thought we might be Osmonds for a minute or two. Opinionated people who crave attention. Yay, every one's favorite.
I have stuck my nose in other people's business too many times. I have told them who to marry and who not to date. I have told them how to handle their money. I have told them better ways to do many tasks. I am my dad. Not sure how that happened. I used to be my mom, really not a better fate just the one I expected.
So here is my blanket apology. Sorry I told you not to marry her. That was rude. Sorry I told you to stop dating him cause he's a boob. That was rude. Sorry I told you that you can't spend more than you make and survive. That was true but rude. Sorry I said that thing when your dad died. It was funny though. I thought you needed a laugh. Sorry I think your politics are the territory of stupid people, this is America and you are entitled to be wrong, (that's a joke). Basically I am sorry for all the unsolicited advice and the crappy advice that was solicited. Sorry I hardly knew you when I started telling you how to live and behave. That was really not my business. But you must admit, it gave you pause. Perhaps just long enough to roll your eyes, but pause none the less.
This will happen again. Old dog, new tricks...yeah, I am pretty much the mouthy one. It is my cross to bear. Think I have a splinter.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues.
I remember the first time I met my dad's family. I was maybe 8 years old. I had been to Utah for a family gathering as a baby but I didn't remember them and I am not sure they remembered me. I was stunned to learn how big my dad's family was. I knew he had 3 sisters and 2 brothers but I didn't understand the offspring situation.
We had a family reunion and needed name tags. We didn't have them but we needed them. My dad's nick name is Murph, so are his brother's. Three Murphs, one family. I wasn't sure what first cousins were but I had maybe 20 or so from grown ups to toddlers. My grandmother and her oldest daughter had children the same year. Ew. It was amazing to me. So much family so much talking.
This is when I learned that everyone in my family is correct about everything all the time. You don't agree, you are stubborn. You agree, you are smart. I was stubborn. My aunts and uncles went to town on everything. They were the first people I heard cuss. Helldamn, one word.
Fascinating to me at the time. Grating after 18 years of arguing over everything with dad and brother. At dinner. I love PSAs where they talk about how important it is to eat with your family. Only if you can't eat from the yelling and it keeps you very thin. We didn't have dinner so much as battle at my house.
Anyway I also discovered that my entire family is full of show offs. I thought we might be Osmonds for a minute or two. Opinionated people who crave attention. Yay, every one's favorite.
I have stuck my nose in other people's business too many times. I have told them who to marry and who not to date. I have told them how to handle their money. I have told them better ways to do many tasks. I am my dad. Not sure how that happened. I used to be my mom, really not a better fate just the one I expected.
So here is my blanket apology. Sorry I told you not to marry her. That was rude. Sorry I told you to stop dating him cause he's a boob. That was rude. Sorry I told you that you can't spend more than you make and survive. That was true but rude. Sorry I said that thing when your dad died. It was funny though. I thought you needed a laugh. Sorry I think your politics are the territory of stupid people, this is America and you are entitled to be wrong, (that's a joke). Basically I am sorry for all the unsolicited advice and the crappy advice that was solicited. Sorry I hardly knew you when I started telling you how to live and behave. That was really not my business. But you must admit, it gave you pause. Perhaps just long enough to roll your eyes, but pause none the less.
This will happen again. Old dog, new tricks...yeah, I am pretty much the mouthy one. It is my cross to bear. Think I have a splinter.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues.
BELOVED BARBIE, WITH THESE BILLIONS I THEE WED
Just saw the video of Rupert Murdoch getting hit in the face with the pie. He is a genius. If anyone believes that he wasn't behind that stunt then you are not as jaded as I am. And then, of course, his adopted Chinese granddaughter, I mean wife, literally leapt to his defense. The cameras captured her bravery and immediately the media turned all attention to her. Well played Rupee, may I call you Rupee? Or is that only in India? You are a media genius. You pegged it. Poor Rupert, and his lovely wife....who is she wearing? Murdoch 1 Media 0.
Got me thinking about those May-one foot in the grave romances. And even those May-December romances. The husbands at least twice the age of the wives. The men rich and powerful, the wives as gorgeous as a model or movie star and frequently are. They are the perfect canvas for the plastic surgery they will be getting later in life in an attempt to hold on to their husbands.
I wonder how those wedding vows are written? Do the happy couples write their own vows?
"Barbie, I promise to show you off, have sex with you so I can have more children to carry on my name. I will cut the older children out of my will leaving you and our children everything. I never had time to be "dad" to them anyway. You will be the caretaker of the trust funds established for our progeny. I will pay for your future plastic surgery. With this 2 million dollar, pink, square cut, 6 carat, platinum set, diamond ring I thee wed."
"Geezer, I promise to, ew, sleep with you once and then under go invitro fertilization to have your spoiled children. The girl we will name "Queen" and the boy "President". I promise to give you the best nursing home care a billionaire can have. You will only wear the finest adult diapers, custom made by Versace. I will try not to flaunt my affairs, ala Anna Nicole, until after you are cold in your grave. Or just in your grave as you are already cold. I will not hide your walker just to watch you fall down. Buy your own ring...I thee wed".
Ahhh, love. It is inspiring.
Do you suspect that Donald Trump has the Miss Universe Pageant to select his next wife? Maybe not. Maybe he thinks those girls need "scholarships" and the fact that they are drop dead gorgeous in a bikini is simply beside the point. And they wave beautifully. Slowly, between the pearls and the crown.
My favorite was when he defended Miss Some State after she, oops, didn't know she had been photographed, in a studio, with her tatas blowing in the fan. That happens to me all the time. I accidentally stand there in full make up and great lighting and accidentally release the girls for a photo shoot. Damn it! Again?
Then of course, in addition to being gorgeous in a bikini they have to answer a question. "If you were a tree, would kind of tree would you be?" Smiling beautifully and putting on a sincere face Beauty says, "world peace".
You poor girls married to gramps. Do you have calendars where you mark off the days he is still alive and then place a gold star on the day he dies? Do you sometimes wonder how long you would have to hold the pillow on his face before he is limp? Do you girls have a support group where you discuss the issues that come with being married to an octogenarian who happens to be a mogul. "Girls, today we need to discuss hiding the Viagra. Mercy, the old fart got it up again! Can't have that. Took me three days at the spa to get the disgust off my face!" "Poor Mrs. Richer than God, I had that problem once and I just put salt peter in his warm milk at night, and a little Xanax". "Thank you, Muffi, you have just saved me". "Next week we will discuss which nationality cleans up the best when hubby doesn't make it to the toilet."
Hurl.
You're welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Got me thinking about those May-one foot in the grave romances. And even those May-December romances. The husbands at least twice the age of the wives. The men rich and powerful, the wives as gorgeous as a model or movie star and frequently are. They are the perfect canvas for the plastic surgery they will be getting later in life in an attempt to hold on to their husbands.
I wonder how those wedding vows are written? Do the happy couples write their own vows?
"Barbie, I promise to show you off, have sex with you so I can have more children to carry on my name. I will cut the older children out of my will leaving you and our children everything. I never had time to be "dad" to them anyway. You will be the caretaker of the trust funds established for our progeny. I will pay for your future plastic surgery. With this 2 million dollar, pink, square cut, 6 carat, platinum set, diamond ring I thee wed."
"Geezer, I promise to, ew, sleep with you once and then under go invitro fertilization to have your spoiled children. The girl we will name "Queen" and the boy "President". I promise to give you the best nursing home care a billionaire can have. You will only wear the finest adult diapers, custom made by Versace. I will try not to flaunt my affairs, ala Anna Nicole, until after you are cold in your grave. Or just in your grave as you are already cold. I will not hide your walker just to watch you fall down. Buy your own ring...I thee wed".
Ahhh, love. It is inspiring.
Do you suspect that Donald Trump has the Miss Universe Pageant to select his next wife? Maybe not. Maybe he thinks those girls need "scholarships" and the fact that they are drop dead gorgeous in a bikini is simply beside the point. And they wave beautifully. Slowly, between the pearls and the crown.
My favorite was when he defended Miss Some State after she, oops, didn't know she had been photographed, in a studio, with her tatas blowing in the fan. That happens to me all the time. I accidentally stand there in full make up and great lighting and accidentally release the girls for a photo shoot. Damn it! Again?
Then of course, in addition to being gorgeous in a bikini they have to answer a question. "If you were a tree, would kind of tree would you be?" Smiling beautifully and putting on a sincere face Beauty says, "world peace".
You poor girls married to gramps. Do you have calendars where you mark off the days he is still alive and then place a gold star on the day he dies? Do you sometimes wonder how long you would have to hold the pillow on his face before he is limp? Do you girls have a support group where you discuss the issues that come with being married to an octogenarian who happens to be a mogul. "Girls, today we need to discuss hiding the Viagra. Mercy, the old fart got it up again! Can't have that. Took me three days at the spa to get the disgust off my face!" "Poor Mrs. Richer than God, I had that problem once and I just put salt peter in his warm milk at night, and a little Xanax". "Thank you, Muffi, you have just saved me". "Next week we will discuss which nationality cleans up the best when hubby doesn't make it to the toilet."
Hurl.
You're welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
IRKED...RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU ARE SHOCKED
Guess what? I don't like Rick Perry. Yes, I lean left. No, I am not a DEMOCRAT. I am an AMERICAN. I don't like big business because I worked for a Fortune 500 Company and watched executives get more money in bonuses that I took home. For more than 10 years. They cheat, they lie, they ask for loyalty and give little back. I also must say that my husband has worked for two Fortune 500 companies and they have been very good to him. He is a business and people wizard. People LOVE working for him because he is fair. He supports his people and rewards them. He never "rolled over" his recognition budget, when he still had one, to make his numbers look better. He took care of his people. He has headed every department. He is the MAN, the good guy. The one who actually takes care of issues and doesn't just spout company jargon. He also works constantly to achieve everything.
Corporate America is all about "give me, give me, we are too big to fail", and then they immediately fire people. That's how they improve the bottom line. Then we whine about unemployment and the Government keeps helping the Corporations. Rick Perry oozes corporate slim. My opinion, not a scientific fact. Yet.
There is a group on FB that is against Perry and his policies. We are not a big or threatening group. We are whiners and debaters. One time during the school budget crisis we were all in a tizzy over the misinformation that Perry has used during his last campaign about his awesome fiduciary stewardship and then BOOM after he was safely back in his very expensive mansion teachers started losing their jobs. Then the abortion thing. Like women are confused by what might possibly be in their uterus. I suggested one evening in a group chat that rather than firing people the money for sports should be eliminated. It has to be the smallest segment of students who go on to be a professional football player, basketball player, etc. I was asking what percentage of the student population became professional athletes.
That was when I learned that men use the word "cunt" liberally. We had a group discussion about language and name calling. It was decided that if you were educated and knew words with more than four letters then you could participate. Otherwise go find a different f*ing group, so to speak.
This is an open group and a new lady joined yesterday. She introduced herself by saying she was new to Texas and supported Ron Paul but would stand against Perry. That poor lady. People went crazy. They weren't friendly Texans at all. One member advised this lady that anyone other than a Democrat should fuck off and that Ron Paul is a douche bag. One dude seemed very dedicated to using the word douche bag as if maybe he had just learned how to spell it. I was tempted to ask him to please give me the number to his charm school but that seemed low. I will probably do it later. No, I won't. That would put me on his level and it seems sleazy there. Then I met his counterpart, this girl from San Antonio who apparently hasn't learned fuckityfuck yet. Beginning to see what the husband means, it does seems repetitious when it is every other word in a sentence.
Really? Texans have we come to this? Democrats have we come to this?
Isn't that Tea Party territory? The "holier than thou" spot? The, "we know what is best and if you don't agree you are a fascist" territory?
I keep saying I am going to leave this hot hell hole. I have never really meant it. Texas is home. Texas is where I used to be proud to be from. Now it is that bible thumping, gun waving, death penalty loving, ruled by a zealot kingdom. It's too much traffic and too many people caught up in me, me, me. We have no freedom here except to drink and carry guns. Together. And now on campus. Send those little freshman off to school armed. Those frat parties should get real interesting. Binge drinking makes people so reasonable.
If I were drenched in money I would move to Hawaii and Alaska. Hawaii is paradise but too constant. Alaska is pristine and wild but it's full of Palin's. Those people elected Governor Barbie. What were they thinking? I mean drinking, they weren't thinking. I have heard that if you live in Alaska you are either a hunter, not. A fisherman, not. Or a drunk, not. Outdoors are to look at and to marvel at before and after you find the bathroom. I'm a girl. I have always said that if I were a pioneer woman and my choices were farm wife, school ma'rm or whore, I'd be upstairs in my corset with a fan. Obviously I would need homes in both places.
Don't see being drenched in money anytime soon so I guess I am stuck for now. Some day I will live in a place where people are friendly and the weather is gorgeous. Where there are lots of things to do with just enough people to make it fun and not crowded. I probably won't fit in.
As always, in need of an attitude adjustment.
You're welcome?
Lillybell Blues
Corporate America is all about "give me, give me, we are too big to fail", and then they immediately fire people. That's how they improve the bottom line. Then we whine about unemployment and the Government keeps helping the Corporations. Rick Perry oozes corporate slim. My opinion, not a scientific fact. Yet.
There is a group on FB that is against Perry and his policies. We are not a big or threatening group. We are whiners and debaters. One time during the school budget crisis we were all in a tizzy over the misinformation that Perry has used during his last campaign about his awesome fiduciary stewardship and then BOOM after he was safely back in his very expensive mansion teachers started losing their jobs. Then the abortion thing. Like women are confused by what might possibly be in their uterus. I suggested one evening in a group chat that rather than firing people the money for sports should be eliminated. It has to be the smallest segment of students who go on to be a professional football player, basketball player, etc. I was asking what percentage of the student population became professional athletes.
That was when I learned that men use the word "cunt" liberally. We had a group discussion about language and name calling. It was decided that if you were educated and knew words with more than four letters then you could participate. Otherwise go find a different f*ing group, so to speak.
This is an open group and a new lady joined yesterday. She introduced herself by saying she was new to Texas and supported Ron Paul but would stand against Perry. That poor lady. People went crazy. They weren't friendly Texans at all. One member advised this lady that anyone other than a Democrat should fuck off and that Ron Paul is a douche bag. One dude seemed very dedicated to using the word douche bag as if maybe he had just learned how to spell it. I was tempted to ask him to please give me the number to his charm school but that seemed low. I will probably do it later. No, I won't. That would put me on his level and it seems sleazy there. Then I met his counterpart, this girl from San Antonio who apparently hasn't learned fuckityfuck yet. Beginning to see what the husband means, it does seems repetitious when it is every other word in a sentence.
Really? Texans have we come to this? Democrats have we come to this?
Isn't that Tea Party territory? The "holier than thou" spot? The, "we know what is best and if you don't agree you are a fascist" territory?
I keep saying I am going to leave this hot hell hole. I have never really meant it. Texas is home. Texas is where I used to be proud to be from. Now it is that bible thumping, gun waving, death penalty loving, ruled by a zealot kingdom. It's too much traffic and too many people caught up in me, me, me. We have no freedom here except to drink and carry guns. Together. And now on campus. Send those little freshman off to school armed. Those frat parties should get real interesting. Binge drinking makes people so reasonable.
If I were drenched in money I would move to Hawaii and Alaska. Hawaii is paradise but too constant. Alaska is pristine and wild but it's full of Palin's. Those people elected Governor Barbie. What were they thinking? I mean drinking, they weren't thinking. I have heard that if you live in Alaska you are either a hunter, not. A fisherman, not. Or a drunk, not. Outdoors are to look at and to marvel at before and after you find the bathroom. I'm a girl. I have always said that if I were a pioneer woman and my choices were farm wife, school ma'rm or whore, I'd be upstairs in my corset with a fan. Obviously I would need homes in both places.
Don't see being drenched in money anytime soon so I guess I am stuck for now. Some day I will live in a place where people are friendly and the weather is gorgeous. Where there are lots of things to do with just enough people to make it fun and not crowded. I probably won't fit in.
As always, in need of an attitude adjustment.
You're welcome?
Lillybell Blues
FINDING LOVE AGAIN
Seems that I hear it from everyone when they are heartbroken. "That's it, I'm done. No more. Never letting anyone get close". Yeah, not gonna happen. Not really. You will find yourself looking for someone sooner or later or you will feel that spark. That chemical reaction that makes you go, "yum....damn it".
Pay attention to the, "damn it", part for quite a while. You are vulnerable and, as mentioned in a previous lecture, lust is a good imitation. It's an OK substitute but it fades like cheap perfume. Then you can be stuck with someone that makes you want to peel your skin off. You will wish to heaven that instead of saying, "I love you, you could say, "uoy evol I". Take a mulligan, wipe the slate or shower a lot.
Here are some tips. Do Not gravitate to "the one" at the party, the bar, the hang out, the whatever. The person whose name gets squealed by members of the opposite sex. Avoid these people. They have charm. Lots of charm, for everyone. It's a practiced art. They make you feel special and sparkley, then they make the next person feel special and sparkley. Otherwise, only one or two members of the opposite sex would squeal. It's hard to compete with...."yay, look who is here! Give me a big hug! We thought you would never get here and look, you brought _____ with you....bummer".
Do Not gravitate to the one who obviously worked very hard to look, "just so". You will find yourself in the shallow end.
Look for someone who has confidence but not conceit. Look for someone whose personality makes them beautiful or handsome. Ever have that experience when you don't even notice some one's looks and then suddenly you feel chemistry? Ever respected someone before the lust? That is a great start.
Do Not excuse behavior. Don't tell yourself, "it" was just that one time. NO, "it" was the beginning of things you won't like. You will not be changing this person. People do not change their basic characteristics. They may change habits IF they want to. NOT if you want them to.
Tit for tat is not a good thing. "You did that so I did this". "I did this so I expect you to do that". "You had the most Oreos so I ate the last M&M". I have seen people argue over toast, (love you guys, really I do). It's hot bread with butter. They have more in the kitchen. Just share. IF you expect something, ask for it. No one is a mind reader. Don't give and give thinking eventually that it will rub off. It won't. If you are doing all the giving now, you will be doing all the giving forever.
When you find this new love, test it. Travel together. Talk about money. Talk about children if you are at that stage of life. Talk about existing children and what role you will have in the child's life. Meet the ex. Love em or hate em, meet them. You might find you are eerily like that person. Creepy.
Never take love for granted. Even if you do not return the love being given, appreciate what it is and how it feels to be hurt.
Don't promise more than you can give.
Don't fool yourself. Know yourself and what you will and will not live with.
Love yourself. If you don't love yourself, why would anyone else?
Be humble, (I hear you giggling), and do not let pride trip you.
K. That's it for now. Waiting for my next stroke of genius...I mean idea. Humble.
Lillybell Blues
Pay attention to the, "damn it", part for quite a while. You are vulnerable and, as mentioned in a previous lecture, lust is a good imitation. It's an OK substitute but it fades like cheap perfume. Then you can be stuck with someone that makes you want to peel your skin off. You will wish to heaven that instead of saying, "I love you, you could say, "uoy evol I". Take a mulligan, wipe the slate or shower a lot.
Here are some tips. Do Not gravitate to "the one" at the party, the bar, the hang out, the whatever. The person whose name gets squealed by members of the opposite sex. Avoid these people. They have charm. Lots of charm, for everyone. It's a practiced art. They make you feel special and sparkley, then they make the next person feel special and sparkley. Otherwise, only one or two members of the opposite sex would squeal. It's hard to compete with...."yay, look who is here! Give me a big hug! We thought you would never get here and look, you brought _____ with you....bummer".
Do Not gravitate to the one who obviously worked very hard to look, "just so". You will find yourself in the shallow end.
Look for someone who has confidence but not conceit. Look for someone whose personality makes them beautiful or handsome. Ever have that experience when you don't even notice some one's looks and then suddenly you feel chemistry? Ever respected someone before the lust? That is a great start.
Do Not excuse behavior. Don't tell yourself, "it" was just that one time. NO, "it" was the beginning of things you won't like. You will not be changing this person. People do not change their basic characteristics. They may change habits IF they want to. NOT if you want them to.
Tit for tat is not a good thing. "You did that so I did this". "I did this so I expect you to do that". "You had the most Oreos so I ate the last M&M". I have seen people argue over toast, (love you guys, really I do). It's hot bread with butter. They have more in the kitchen. Just share. IF you expect something, ask for it. No one is a mind reader. Don't give and give thinking eventually that it will rub off. It won't. If you are doing all the giving now, you will be doing all the giving forever.
When you find this new love, test it. Travel together. Talk about money. Talk about children if you are at that stage of life. Talk about existing children and what role you will have in the child's life. Meet the ex. Love em or hate em, meet them. You might find you are eerily like that person. Creepy.
Never take love for granted. Even if you do not return the love being given, appreciate what it is and how it feels to be hurt.
Don't promise more than you can give.
Don't fool yourself. Know yourself and what you will and will not live with.
Love yourself. If you don't love yourself, why would anyone else?
Be humble, (I hear you giggling), and do not let pride trip you.
K. That's it for now. Waiting for my next stroke of genius...I mean idea. Humble.
Lillybell Blues
ODE TO A TUB
Oh bathtub how I love thee
First with my toe and then my knee
Then finally sink down to my neck
Without you I have been a wreck
Today I lingered in your water
Consider me a future squatter
I will never say goodbye
To your comfortable, relaxing lie
I will stay here in the bubbles
Til sun is down and I'm in trouble
If I'm wrinkled like a prune
It's because I bathed at noon
I will see you on the morrow
And our parting is sweet sorrow
It's just so good to have you back
You're more addictive than smoking crack.
Love you, mean it! Big Kiss! OK, that's taking it too far. Air kiss...better.
Lilly,
the tub and I are on a first fake name basis
First with my toe and then my knee
Then finally sink down to my neck
Without you I have been a wreck
Today I lingered in your water
Consider me a future squatter
I will never say goodbye
To your comfortable, relaxing lie
I will stay here in the bubbles
Til sun is down and I'm in trouble
If I'm wrinkled like a prune
It's because I bathed at noon
I will see you on the morrow
And our parting is sweet sorrow
It's just so good to have you back
You're more addictive than smoking crack.
Love you, mean it! Big Kiss! OK, that's taking it too far. Air kiss...better.
Lilly,
the tub and I are on a first fake name basis
LISTEN TO YOUR BODY, PLEASE
Not sure why but I lose friends easily. Not the, "tick tock the game is locked", kind of losing friends. I am talking about death.
The majority of the people I lost too soon are gone because they had a terminal disease, they refused to grow up. They thought, apparently, that living like you are 22 years old forever was great. Ergo, they drank too much and/or smoked too much and ate like your basic college student. At the age of 60, or damn near, it is time to grow up and hopefully repair some of the damage you have already done. You only get one liver and when it goes it takes you too. That goes for your brain too.
I have a dear friend who is brilliant. Smart about almost any subject. Not always correct but always informed. Talk, the man can talk and draw you in with his logic or irritate you to the point of rising to his level of debate. He's a drinker. He's a, "why have 6 beers when you can have 12", kinda guy. He smokes like he is personally responsible for keeping the tobacco industry going. I am sure he would have other vices if he had more hands and could incorporate it with the smoking and drinking.
Two weeks ago I got the call from the family. My friend was in the hospital having emergency surgery after an aneurysm. He almost bled to death. He is very, very lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, he isn't the same. At least not yet. He can't walk. He can't speak without slurring. He can't remember where he is and he cannot hold a fork or feed himself. He will be in rehab for months to relearn those things.
Note I didn't say stroke. His aneurysm was in a different part of his body but the damage from the slow bleeding into his system before the burst had done lots of damage. He knew he didn't feel good. He knew something was wrong but he just didn't want to find out what. He also knew he had high blood pressure but didn't take medication because he hated the side effects. Didn't want to take the time to go to the doctor. Didn't want to get a lecture about his lifestyle.
I can relate. I hate being told that I need to grow up and stop some of the foolish things I do. I hate for my doctor to say, "quit smoking. exercise more, eat right, lose weight, gain weight, take your cholesterol medication". I want to be 22 forever too, but I am not. Time to grow up. Time to skip the cheeseburger and have the salad. Time to have a cocktail instead of a drinking contest. Time to quit smoking. OK, time to cut back.
I love you, my friend, I want you to be fine. I want to argue with you some more. Once you are better I want to bitch slap you for not taking care of yourself. You'll love that. You know how much you appreciate my unique way of showing I care. Then we can go back to disagreeing about everything.
Please learn from my friend. Don't be too smart or too childish. Grow up.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
The majority of the people I lost too soon are gone because they had a terminal disease, they refused to grow up. They thought, apparently, that living like you are 22 years old forever was great. Ergo, they drank too much and/or smoked too much and ate like your basic college student. At the age of 60, or damn near, it is time to grow up and hopefully repair some of the damage you have already done. You only get one liver and when it goes it takes you too. That goes for your brain too.
I have a dear friend who is brilliant. Smart about almost any subject. Not always correct but always informed. Talk, the man can talk and draw you in with his logic or irritate you to the point of rising to his level of debate. He's a drinker. He's a, "why have 6 beers when you can have 12", kinda guy. He smokes like he is personally responsible for keeping the tobacco industry going. I am sure he would have other vices if he had more hands and could incorporate it with the smoking and drinking.
Two weeks ago I got the call from the family. My friend was in the hospital having emergency surgery after an aneurysm. He almost bled to death. He is very, very lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, he isn't the same. At least not yet. He can't walk. He can't speak without slurring. He can't remember where he is and he cannot hold a fork or feed himself. He will be in rehab for months to relearn those things.
Note I didn't say stroke. His aneurysm was in a different part of his body but the damage from the slow bleeding into his system before the burst had done lots of damage. He knew he didn't feel good. He knew something was wrong but he just didn't want to find out what. He also knew he had high blood pressure but didn't take medication because he hated the side effects. Didn't want to take the time to go to the doctor. Didn't want to get a lecture about his lifestyle.
I can relate. I hate being told that I need to grow up and stop some of the foolish things I do. I hate for my doctor to say, "quit smoking. exercise more, eat right, lose weight, gain weight, take your cholesterol medication". I want to be 22 forever too, but I am not. Time to grow up. Time to skip the cheeseburger and have the salad. Time to have a cocktail instead of a drinking contest. Time to quit smoking. OK, time to cut back.
I love you, my friend, I want you to be fine. I want to argue with you some more. Once you are better I want to bitch slap you for not taking care of yourself. You'll love that. You know how much you appreciate my unique way of showing I care. Then we can go back to disagreeing about everything.
Please learn from my friend. Don't be too smart or too childish. Grow up.
You're Welcome,
Lillybell Blues
Monday, July 18, 2011
DISAPPOINTED
Cannot believe I am not ruling the world yet. This may explain so many things in my life. I either know nothing about a subject or I am convinced I am correct. How do so many people miss this?
With all the hoopla in my house the last few noisy weeks I have not even attempted to watch the news. What a blessing. Then this morning I was waiting and waiting on various people, watching the TeeVee, and discovered NO ONE is taking my advice.
The government apparently hasn't figured out that I have answers here. They also haven't figured out that I am still not satisfied with their nannie nannie boo boo games. My parents are not going to enjoy their trip to D.C. for the Aging Care Facility Rally on The Mall, but oh well, I tried.
The media still has not shut up about Casey Anthony. Where is she? Don't care. This morning there were people at the site where they found Caylee's body. They didn't have closure. REALLY? Do you know these people personally or do you just have no life? One man advised the reporter that Casey would receive her justice from The Lord. Another person speaking for The Lord. She had her justice. She was found NOT guilty but the media disagrees. LEECHES, I say. They are LEECHES.
Which brings me to the only good news. Rupert Murdoch is finally having some issues. People have finally figured out he is the KING LEECH with his own agenda. Wonder how he likes being on the receiving end?, (insert joke here). Wonder when we will see the shot of him shooing away reporters because he wants his privacy? Wonder if Fox's News will have to fire any spin doctors?
Bad news. Glen Beck is moving here? What did we do to deserve that? Is he going to start a community of wannabe actors who just emote drivel? Will O'Reilly be here too? This is not a good time to put my house on the market but I do have standards. Quit laughing. Really, I do.
Don't misunderstand. I don't want Chris Matthews or Rachel Maddow moving here either. So tired of the tit for tat, we're good you're bad and we are all unbiased story. Tired of people's opinion, except mine, and watching people almost burst from who said what. No one is that important.
That applies to me. If you don't like what I say, really don't read it. There will not be that Clockwork Orange toothpick moment. Feel free to avert your eyes. Feel free to debate. Feel free to say I am wrong. Sometimes I even agree with you. Sometimes I am wrong.
Still, Lillybell's world would be nice. Peace and love and butterflies and bunnies. People of the world holding hands and singing....I don't know, what song would we all know? OK, people of the world all humming in harmony. Fellow man helping fellow man. No hatred, no killings, no crime, no illness...no reality. I am so happy in my little pretend land of Lillybell. There would also be that Camelot weather deal. Not too hot, not too cold, snow when you want it, rain you need it, sunshine for those lusty days, cool darkness for the sadness. Gentle rain for the cuddle, hard rain for the cleansing.
Oh well, back to reality. Going to water my dying plants because they expect it and I love watching the fruits of my labor wilt.
Sigh,
Lillybell Blues
With all the hoopla in my house the last few noisy weeks I have not even attempted to watch the news. What a blessing. Then this morning I was waiting and waiting on various people, watching the TeeVee, and discovered NO ONE is taking my advice.
The government apparently hasn't figured out that I have answers here. They also haven't figured out that I am still not satisfied with their nannie nannie boo boo games. My parents are not going to enjoy their trip to D.C. for the Aging Care Facility Rally on The Mall, but oh well, I tried.
The media still has not shut up about Casey Anthony. Where is she? Don't care. This morning there were people at the site where they found Caylee's body. They didn't have closure. REALLY? Do you know these people personally or do you just have no life? One man advised the reporter that Casey would receive her justice from The Lord. Another person speaking for The Lord. She had her justice. She was found NOT guilty but the media disagrees. LEECHES, I say. They are LEECHES.
Which brings me to the only good news. Rupert Murdoch is finally having some issues. People have finally figured out he is the KING LEECH with his own agenda. Wonder how he likes being on the receiving end?, (insert joke here). Wonder when we will see the shot of him shooing away reporters because he wants his privacy? Wonder if Fox's News will have to fire any spin doctors?
Bad news. Glen Beck is moving here? What did we do to deserve that? Is he going to start a community of wannabe actors who just emote drivel? Will O'Reilly be here too? This is not a good time to put my house on the market but I do have standards. Quit laughing. Really, I do.
Don't misunderstand. I don't want Chris Matthews or Rachel Maddow moving here either. So tired of the tit for tat, we're good you're bad and we are all unbiased story. Tired of people's opinion, except mine, and watching people almost burst from who said what. No one is that important.
That applies to me. If you don't like what I say, really don't read it. There will not be that Clockwork Orange toothpick moment. Feel free to avert your eyes. Feel free to debate. Feel free to say I am wrong. Sometimes I even agree with you. Sometimes I am wrong.
Still, Lillybell's world would be nice. Peace and love and butterflies and bunnies. People of the world holding hands and singing....I don't know, what song would we all know? OK, people of the world all humming in harmony. Fellow man helping fellow man. No hatred, no killings, no crime, no illness...no reality. I am so happy in my little pretend land of Lillybell. There would also be that Camelot weather deal. Not too hot, not too cold, snow when you want it, rain you need it, sunshine for those lusty days, cool darkness for the sadness. Gentle rain for the cuddle, hard rain for the cleansing.
Oh well, back to reality. Going to water my dying plants because they expect it and I love watching the fruits of my labor wilt.
Sigh,
Lillybell Blues
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