Shit You Should Know

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me

Some people are believers.  Some people are not.  For once, I’m not referring to religion.  I am referring to the supernatural and the paranormal.  Always I have held a deep interest in the occult.  Something about the unseen and unknown gives me butterflies in my stomach.  It is a hunger that cannot be satisfied.
Today something unsettling happened that made me think maybe just maybe everything else is not a figment of my imagination.  I let my dog inside and told him to go lay down in his spot in the living room in front of the fireplace.  He seemed to be distracted by something off in my bedroom.  He lay down as he was told but in this almost Sphinx-like pose, head up straight, rigid posture.  His ears twitched a little but other than that he was very still.  He then began to growl very low as he continued to stare into the darkness of my bedroom.  You must know, for the most part, Deuce is a very silent dog.  Other than the snorting and slobbering sounds, he very seldom barks or howls much less growls.  So you can imagine my concern when he began to make his deep guttural complaints.
Moments later, I managed to build the nerve to walk in that direction.  He stood up but he did not come forward.  I stood in the doorway and called him over.  He refused to come.  He just stood there staring.  Outside, I could hear an owl hooting.  It sounded like it was in the tree outside my window.  (More about owls in a later post.)
That experience would have been weird all on its own but it got me thinking about other strange things that have happened, one thing in particular that happened early this morning.  Around 4ish this morning, I awoke fast and startled.  I had that feeling like someone was standing over me.  My heart was racing.  To say that I was shaken would be a total understatement.  I tried to rationalize things as I often do by telling myself that I must have been dreaming and since I woke up so quickly I wasn’t able to remember the dream.  I began to calm down.
Around thirty minutes passed and I began to settle back down.  Then there was a little knock at my bedroom door.  I was almost afraid to answer.  From my bed I called out, “Yes?”  To my relief I was answered by my seven year old daughter who said, “Mommy?  I’m scared.  Can I sleep in your bed?”
In hindsight, after the dog incident of course, I am wondering if any of these things mean anything at all or am I just making mountains out of mole hills.

When we first moved here to Oklahoma, on a few occasions I had that same feeling of being watched.  It happened very similar to how it took place this morning.  Only this particular time, it seemed as if I were in a half asleep/half-awake state.  I remember I felt paralyzed in my bed and unable to talk.  There were two male figures I saw with my peripheral vision.  Each figure stood on either side of the bed.  One appeared to by heavy set while the other appeared to be thin.  Both seemed tall.
On numerous occasions, I felt the fat man and the skinny man’s vacant stares.  One time I could swear that the skinny man actually punched me in my side and pinched my shoulder.  I woke up the next morning sore in those two spots.  Other times when I’ve seen them they were standing in front of my closet but always staring.   You know, I say “staring” but the truth of the matter is they are silhouettes so I can’t really make out facial features.
I’d like to say that these sorts of things are limited to Oklahoma but the truth is experiences like these happen every so often.  Most often they take place when I’m not sure if I am awake or asleep.  Of course, the logical person in me wants to brush it off as simply a case of having a vivid imagination.  However, the creative and imaginative side of me takes solace in the “what ifs” of life and embraces the unseen.
As I’ve said, I’m no stranger to weird happenings.  Luckily for me, being that I’m a scaredy cat and all, I do not “see dead people” like in the movie The Sixth Sense.  I’m not ashamed to admit I do not like the dark…at all.  There is something about not being able to see into the shadows that eats at me.  I can send myself into a panic attack just by thinking about what a shadow could be or what a noise may be.  The scary part is always “what if” I’m right.
So, yes, I can be a baby but as I said strange things have taken place…
In Texas a few years back, we were living in post housing.  I was lying in my bed reading.  I looked over the top of my book at the metal closet doors that were pretty common in the housing community that I lived in.  There were faces pressing against the metal as if they were on the inside trying to push their way out.  The best way to give you a visual is imagine places a plastic bag over a doorway so that it is pulled tight.  Then the person on the other side presses their face and hands against it almost like they are push through plastic.  That is what it looked like.  As I said, my closet doors were metal.
As if the faces in the closet weren’t freaky enough, on another occasion in the same house I woke up to people in my room around my bed.  They weren’t flesh and blood people.  They were completely transparent almost like a bubble but I could make out features on them.
At the time, I was seeing a therapist, who had put me on Ambien.  The next session I described the bubble people and the closet faces to my therapist.  I requested to be taken off of the Ambien.  Even if those things are there, I don’t think I want to see them although I think the Ambien caused mild hallucinations.
Think I’m weird yet?  Well, so do I sometimes.
Most times, I’m half asleep when things happen but every so often things have happened when I am fully lucid and there are people around me.  It’s those times I am thankful.
Years ago, I rented my grandfather’s house while he lived with his second wife in her home.  The house I rented was the house he lived at with my grandmother who had passed away many years ago.  I chose the master bedroom for myself and put my son in the bedroom next door to mine.
The very first night I stayed there my younger sister who was about 11 or 12 at the time stayed with me.  My son had stayed by his grandparents for the night.  As we laid there in the dark trying to sleep, the bedroom door swung open.  It opened with such force; the door hit the wall and bounced halfway back.  My sister and I looked at each other almost to reassure ourselves that the other saw the same thing.  I got up and closed the door, making sure it had closed all the way this time.
My sister and I were a little shaken and as we talked about it I tried to calm her by saying the air conditioner must have kicked on and caused that.  I honestly wanted to believe it myself.  Eventually she went to sleep.
I laid there in silence and my logical side was slowly losing the battle.  The more I thought about it the more my mind tried to piece it all together.  Normally, when the a/c clicked on if the door was partially open it would suck close.  I tried to remember if one of us actually closed the door.  I could not remember either of us closing it all the way.  Then I thought of my grandmother.
After my grandmother died, my mother referred to her as my guardian angel.  So I always pictured her as such, except my guardian angel grandmother had a More Menthol in one hand and Dixie Beer in the other.  Prior to her death, my grandmother gave me a holographic picture that showed two children walking across a bridge, hovering over them was a beautiful angel.  I still have the picture.  It is now above my daughters bedroom door.
There’s one of those “what ifs”.  What if she came into her bedroom trying to see who was there?  After that I thought maybe she didn’t know who I was since she passed when I was 3.  So I began to have little conversations with myself out loud on and off.  I would walk around saying things like, “Maw Maw it’s me, Ashley Denice.”  Sometimes, I would be rocking my son to sleep and I tell her out loud who he was.
A few weeks later, my sister slept over again.  This time through the baby monitor, we heard a woman singing.  We could also hear my son awake, not crying just awake and at ease.
I never felt afraid in the house.  I just felt like I wasn’t alone.  One night, although I did not feel threatened my husband did.  At the time, we were separated.  He was there even though my grandfather had declared he was not welcome.
While I was sleeping, I awoke with the familiar feeling of someone standing over me.  I felt paralyzed.  I was unable to open my eyes or speak.  The next morning before I could tell my husband about my weird “dream”, he began to tell me about someone standing over him during the night.  He said that someone had pushed down on his chest almost like someone was sitting on him.  He said it was almost as if he was pushed right through the bed and box spring onto the floor.  He said he felt a suffocating feeling and he felt paralyzed and unable to fight back.  I stared at him for a few minutes without speaking because I was blindsided by his story.  Eventually, I did and for once my uber logical spouse actually seemed to genuinely believe me.
I’m not about to sit here and write about each and every time anything strange or unusual has happened to me or around me.  I tried to focus on the most recent or most significant.  I hope you enjoyed my “sharing” session.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

What Do You See?

A friend of mine, Deanne, mistakenly put this up on her blog.  Apparently, she saves pictures to use later on her blog like most of us.

Deanne's blog is very inspirational.  When I first read her latest post, I had to reread it because I just couldn't for the life of me figure out what a dog's ass had to do with her post.  After looking at it for awhile, I saw the Jesus image.  When I commented on her blog to tell her (and giggle), the poor lady was mortified.  She meant to put up the typical Jesus image, like this:
Soooo...

What did you see??

I originally saw a dog's ass.  She saw Jesus.  Do Christians see Jesus and non-believers see an ass?  That is the debate.  Is it because certain people see Jesus in everything like pancakes, candy bars, chocolate milk, etc?


Please let me know what your thoughts were.  Also, if you don't mind disclosing the information, let me know what your faith is (if any).

I look forward to the responses.


Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Ramblings Redux

Like I said in the last post, things have been absolutely nuts around here and Daylight Savings Time was no help either.  I must give you fair warning though.  This post is like a few posts wrapped into one.  try to keep up.

My laptop died. I got the evil blue error screen of death. Yes, it was archaic. Yes, it was running slower than an obese man on a treadmill. But I loved my little laptop. Even with the missing keys courtesy of my nephew and his little toddler fingers. Even with the finicky optical drive that just to run a disc I would find myself holding up my laptop and tilting it in all sorts of directions just to get it to read.
With the hubby gone, I was relying on it for communication purposes. I'm not ashamed to say I came close to a melt down thinking about not being able to talk to him. Ok, not being able to blog, upload pictures to Facebook, or play the freaking Sims upset me a little too. Shut up! I need an intervention.

Any who ha....

I took the laptop to a local computer repair where I left it for a few days. When I finally heard back I was told the hard drive was shot as was the optical drive which, of course, came as no surprise. For repairs it would cost about $200. Instead, I dropped off my external hard drive and asked them to do their best to transfer my files from the laptop to the external drive which would run my about $50.


Then I skipped to Office Depot and purchase a new laptop. Hooray! My husband suggested I give the old laptop a proper funeral a la Office Space style.
Since then I have downloaded Skype. Let me just say, Skype is the bee's knees! Previously we had been using Yahoo Messenger to communicate which resulted in lots of frozen faces in unflattering moments. Skype has minimal freezing which is great when the husband talks to the kids since they are usually hopped on sugary goodness...especially lately thanks to Halloween and the generosity (aka Satanic worship) of all the neighbors and such who will be burning in hell with us for particpating in the devil's holiday. You guys rock!
So this is my plug for Skype...I deserve commision. Dowload Skype and you will live a long and properous life full of decent video footage and smiles. La la la!

Next topic on the agenda...scouting updates...I can tell you're excited. You should be.

My babygirl had her Investiture Ceremony which was very informal aka unorganized. I guess I am accustomed to how the Girl Scout troop I was in as a child was run. My leader, Susan Reynolds, was a beast! That woman organized everything to the tee or so it seemed when I was a kid. Ceremonies and awards were handled with precision and formalities. It made us feel special...or at least that was how it made me feel. I suppose that's the Leo in me. I like to be made a big deal of.

Anyway, anyway...
This ceremony was so casual it almost made me feel like babygirl's troop leader didn't give a fuck. By the book, the ceremony consists of the girls reciting their promise and law. This is a ceremony for welcoming new Girl Scouts into the age appropriate group. At this time, each girl recieves the Girl Scout pin. Now I must tell you this ceremony has already been pushed back three weeks...it was supposed to take place near the beginning of October. However, the girls never received their pins. Why? Because the leader ordered them too late. Back to Susan Reynolds...she would have ordered those bitches MONTHS ago. Sigh...I guess I'm spoiled.

Ok...now let's go on over to left field...my brain seems to frequent there often.
Recently, Dr. Atkins and I have gotten reaquainted. I am what you would call a carb addict and I'm not found of excercise. When people start talking about how much fun they had on their morning run or their last visit to the gym, I seriously want to punch them in their ovaries. And, no, men are not safe. Use your imagination if you want to know where I would like to exert pain on them.
For the life of me, I cannot begin to understand those weirdos that say crap like, "Man, the elliptical kicked my ass today. I am hurting all over. I feel grrrrr-eat." Yes, those idiots make me think of Tony the Tiger trying to peddle me Frosted Flakes. I call them "idiots" but really they'll probably live longer then me since I believe bacon is a food group all on it's own. It's so crunchy and if you wrapped a sweaty jock strap in it, I'd try it at least once. It's like strips of heaven.

Speaking of heaven, I feel sorry for people of the Jewish and Islamic faith. Not eating bacon would make me sad.  Maybe just maybe...the "tree of knowledge" from the Bible really grew crispy, delicious bacon. Maybe God got pissed because, after all, now Adam and Eve KNEW bacon fucking rocked. Now those two mooches were going to eat it all and God was not going to share. I would have kicked them out too. Nobody better touch my bacon!!

In lieu of my latest dieting pursuit, I have also stopped gnawing on my fingernails. It's been a little over a month. Hooray for me!!

BEEP!

Did you hear that?

The other night, I was tearing the house apart because something was beeping. I would walk in one direction and hear it and SWEAR it was coming from the other direction. I walked into the kitchen and thought it was coming from the living room. I was putting my ear up to each and every electronic. I dumped out my purse. I looked like a freaking looney. I was even standing on chairs trying to see if the smoke alarms, the doorbell box, and even the freaking light fixtures were the culprits. At one point I was even listening into the air vent thinking maybe just maybe it was coming from in there.
I'm glad I wasn't drunk or high or something. I'd probably think there was bomb hidden in my wall. I finally ended up located the source of the noise. It was coming from a drawer in the kitchen. It was a smoke detector that we had taken down when we first moved in and replaced with our high tech one. We didn't throw it away since we rent and plan on putting it back up when we move. I was completely frazzled afterwards. I had to take some melatonin just to settle down so I could go to sleep.
Finally, I must brag a little. One of the blogs I follow has a caption contest and I was last week's winner. Knowing my luck, I was probably the only person that entered. Anyway, here it is:
And if you want to join the fun, follow Leigh vs. Laundry. She's pretty damn funny.

Lastly, I told you in the last post about shit mountain I'd be back tomorrow to give you the rest of the insanity. Well, I kept my word. I even put a bow on it to make you feel special. I bet you didn't even notice.  Now I'm off to eat a cucumber and pretend it's fresh baked chocolate chips cookies.

Monday, November 8, 2010

I Survived Shit Mountain

Ok. So I know it has been about a week since my last post. I can't lie. I think my brain shut down. I kid you not. I've kind of been walking around like a zombie these past few days. Speaking of zombies...if you aren't watching The Walking Dead series on AMC, you suck.

Seriously though, dudes and dudettes, I have so much stuff to blog about. There are pages of notes and some random paper products stuffed into the notebooks where I jot down my awesomeness. If my kids would stand still long enough they'd probably have notes on them as well.  I promise I will get to all of it in due time.

Recently, we had a plumbing issue. The toilets wouldn't flush properly and when everything would finally go down the other would make gurgling sounds. When I'd plunge one, the other would have water seeping out from underneath. Murky ickiness was backing up into my shower. What's worse was the toilet paper and shit mountain that was building up in my backyard where it was all coming out of PVC pipe. It was gross. So gross, in fact, that even the dog didn't want to be anywhere near it and normally he is all about some nasty.
About a month ago, the genius that is this blogger had a serious brain fart. For some unknown reason, I deemed it accpetable to flush a tampon down the camode. Don't ask me what possessed me to do this. I never do that (anymore). I'm telling you. It has to be the lack of sex.
Anyway, I flush one of the period plugs and later I'm showering and I notice the basin filling up. After, I finish I decide to get my plumber on and plunge the hell out of it. Nothing could have prepared me for the horror that would begin to fill the shower. As I watched the water near the drain bubbled, the black muck started to gurgle out into the basin. All I could think was "Charlie Murphy! Darkness! The darkness is spreading!" It was so inky that I could no longer see the tile of the tub. Among the funk water was little floaters that once they leave your body, you have no wish to see ever again.
I called the landlord and when the plumber came out I was informed that the culprit was the lone tampon I had flushed. GREAT! I heard a whooshing noise in my head...it was the sound of me flushing money down the toilet.

So now, once again we are having plumbing issues. I SWEAR I didn't flush anything this time. This time the landlord stopped by and stood next to shitty TP mountain and declared that he believed it was roots in the plumbing causing this issue. He called a plumber and told me someone would be there in the morning. ALL DAMN DAY I WAITED! No plumber. Around four o'clock, I called the landlord to let him know I was still having potty issues. He called the plumber again and was told that he was still coming but that he was just backed up...no pun intended.

That night my husband and are discussing the difficulty of getting a plumber out to the house. My husband was concerned that there was some sort of plumbing epidemic and all of the city's plumbers were called out to battle the pipes. Apparently, no other plumbers are as skilled as our town's very own conquering heroes.
The next morning, I called the landlord again to inform him that a plumber still had not shown up. He ended up calling another plumber and said, "If this guy doesn't show, I'm going to come out there and snake it myself."  Now, I wish for the sake of blogging he would have. To give you a visual, my landlord reminds my husband and I of Bill Cosby. He is very energetic and expressive. He uses his entire body to tell you a story and the man is funny. He probably would have snaked the line and then offered everyone some Jell-o pudding pops.

Remember I mentioned roots in the plumbing? This is all too familar. Years ago, we lived in an older house that had the same issues occasionally. The worst was when I was hanging clothes in the backyard and noticed they didn't smell too hot. That's when I found out the sewage was backing up into the washing machine I doing laundry in. NICE!


Back to the present...

The plumber finally showed up. It was the same guy as last time. The first thing he says to me is "You din't go flushin no feminim hygeine pro-ducts down the drain, did yer?" Apparently, this guy knows too much. I may have to have him assassinated or something. In the very least, send him a christmas card.

You know, Mr. Fix-it was in and out in less then 15 minutes! I waiting over 36 hours for him to bolt through here like nothing was ever wrong. That was looooongest 36 hours of my life...well except for the bus trip. Seriously, I had to keep convincing myself during that time that I did NOT need to go to the restroom.

Now can you understand why my brain turned into oatmeal this week? This isn't even all of it. I'll try to be back tomorrow to fill you in on the rest of lunacy that seems tobe my life. In the meantime, don't flush tampons down the toilet...even though the specifically say FLUSHABLE and BIODEGRADABLE. It's all a lie people!
 

Monday, November 1, 2010

Merry Mayhem

Halloween is the 31st of October and has been traditionally since the dawn of time. Ok. Not really but since the dawn of MY time. This year it fell on a Sunday. However, for some reason the powers that be (i.e. the city I live in) decided that Sunday the 31st was a bad day to go trick or treating and celebrate the awesomeness that is Halloween. No, instead it was bumped up a day early to Saturday the 30th and to top it off it was dictated to us that trick or treating was only allowed between 6 and 8 that evening.
My complaints about this are simple.

First off, I don't think any government city, state, federal, whatever should have ANY hand on how people celebrate a holiday. I bet if they started fucking with Christmas or Easter people would loose their damn minds. Secondly, the time frame in which we were told to trick or treat is ridiculous as well. 6 to 8?!?! It isn't even dark yet at 6. It was after 7 before the sun started to go down. Considering the nature of the holiday, darkness is an important aspect of it since dating back to the Celts bonfires were used to honor the end of summer and beginning of the harvest season.
Part of me cannot help but wonder what hand the local churches had in this. The majority of the churches around here still held their "Treat and then Trick" festivals on the most "EVIL" day of Halloween. They opened them to the public with their jumpies and flat screen TV raffles and offerings of candy and such but it was all a ploy to get you there for the ultimate trick of accepting Jesus as your lord and savior. My kids wanted to go in their costumes. Even though I mostly disagree with the Christian faith, I do have respect for it and I thought it was slightly inappropriate to bring my son and daughter decked out in his Killer Clown from Outerspace costume and her Devil Diva attire. Besides we would have become a target for prayer and the last thing I want to do in a place like that is draw attention to myself or my kids. Needless to say, we played Rockband on Sunday instead.

On Thursday night, the kids and I stuffed goodie bags. The kids choose the candy and trinkets they wanted to put in each one and I was head of the twist tie department.
On Saturday, we baked cookies. I mixed the dough and got it the right consistency. Then I became the overseer of the cookie cutting. We had cutters in the shape of a pumpkin, a witch's head, a half moon, a ghost, a cat, and a bat. I mixed some food coloring and frosting to come up with orange icing. I slathered icing on the cookies after they were all baked and cooled. Then the kids sprinkled the hell out of them.
Afterwards, I readied the children in their costumes and make-up. and then proceeded to doll myself up as well. We spent awhile snapping pictures of each other. Then, I clicked on the porch light (even though it was still daylight outside) and put the plastic cauldron full of goodie bags in front the door with a note taped to it basically saying "Don't be a greedy-ass!" Later we began our trek around the neighborhood in search of treats.
While out and about we came across a white pit bull on the loose. I say "on the loose" but it really was just hanging out in front of what I believe to be its house. It just stood their barking at us...not viciously. It was the sort of bark that said, "Hey! I'm here and I'm watching you. Stay out of my yard or you'll make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry. By the way, I like bacon." It was interesting.
Well, since the city went and broke all the "rules" of Halloween, the residence didn't think they needed to follow them either. How hard is it to turn your freaking porch light off ONE night a year? I know sometimes people run out of candy and forget. Those people are usually apologetic when they answer their door. BUT I hate assholes that not only waste my kids' time but smugly tell them that they don't participate in Halloween with their nose in the air like they are somehow better than us.
Children get all decked out and they only have two hours to rack in as much candy as they can. FYI (people that choose not participate): Don't leave your porch light on only to answer the door and tell my kids that you don't celebrate Halloween. Nobody fucking cares!!  JEEZ!
The asshole award of the night goes to the jerk off that not only left their light on but went the extra mile to write a detailed note about how they don't celebrate Halloween and taped that bad boy to their door. What a creep! Again, turn your light off, JERK! Your electric bill will thank you. Those people are lucky I didn't have a carton of eggs or a roll of toilet paper. That is one mofo that would seriously DESERVE a good TPing. You know I'm right too.
A neighbor down the street called me on Saturday night and asked if I wanted bring the kids and go to her church for their festival. I hate being invited to church. I loathe it. I have absolutely no interest what so ever in going to church...ANY church for ANYTHING. In my opinion churches themselves are useless buildings. When someone invites me to church, I find it easiest to just tell them that I am an atheist. I'm not really an atheist; I consider myself to be more of an agnostic. I'll spare you the details.
Anyway...back to this neighbor...
I declined her invitation and told her I was an atheist. Almost immediately it were as if I had the bubonic plaque. It felt as if she could not get off the phone with me fast enough. I thought, "Great! Now my kids will be prohibited from playing with her children." The next day, she sent me a text message apologizing if she offended me. I was honestly impressed. I have never had anyone apologize after inviting me to church or even a church function. It felt good to know that even though we are both on basically opposite sides of the belief spectrum, she is still respectful of my beliefs. It is an unusual occurrence but it made me respect her more.

Well, that about sums up Halloween 2010. What did you do? Did you get your creep show on? Did you watch any kick ass horror movies? Tell me about it because, let's face it, I'm nosey.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Fair Is Fair

This should be short and sweet, at least compared to my normal ramblings. First off, I think you should know that this is out of form of my normal blogging but I’d probably be a total asshole if I didn’t do this because after all “Fair is fair!”




My biggest fan (apparently), Kamilla @ Basket of Dreams, recently bestowed two different blog awards to me.  Now, I’m new to the Blogger world with the exception that I used to blog frequently on Myspace. It has come to my attention that these blog awards are supposed to be dealt out and shared with at least five more people after you receive one. Remember in a recent Nigerian Poll, I’m stupid…and possibly slow. So without further ado, I’d like to announce the winners as nominated by the academy (aka me).

The first award…the One Lovely Blog Award goes to the following…
Drum roll, please…

Doris @ Sprinkles of My Life

Autumn @ Ramblings of a Frantic Mother

Amanda @ Seriously.

Lisa @ Smacksy

Canilla @ From My Home and Heart

These ladies keep me entertained with their tales of motherhood/womanhood and life as they know it.

The last but certainly not least award is the prestigious Gold Framed Dog Blog Award. When dear Kamila bestowed this award on me, I merely received it through association. She awarded it to her friends/followers with awesome doggies. Since I have Super Deuce, who by the way is a lover not a fighter, being his owner made me a winner. I secretly think she took pity on me for THE butt plug being the only thing I’ve ever won.
The winners of the Gold Framed Dog Blog Award are in no particular order…

Yet another drum roll please…

Doug @ I Like Cheese

Tricia @ Confessions of a Recovering Cynic

Jill @ In Bed with Married Women

Kristine @ Wait in the Van

The talented and hilarious writers @ The Cat Lady Gazette
These guys keep me laughing. To keep in form with Kamilla’s animal theme, I decided that the reason these folks deserved this illustrious blog award is simply because they keep me entertained like the animals at a circus…more specifically like the dancing elephants in tutus and bears on roller skates…but entertained none the less.
Please give ALL my winners a round of applause and be sure to visit their blogs. If you happen to leave a comment or two be sure to let them know how you found out about their awesomeness.

Also, I would love to be able to throw an award Kamilla’s way so if any of you deem me worthy of an award I would love to have the opportunity to pass it along to her as well.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

Monday, October 25, 2010

That's Freaking Ass-Tastic!

The best things in life are free, right? Sometimes…and sometimes those FREE things are down right terrifying.


Recently, a talented (and loveably awkward and inappropriate) lady named Tricia that I follow on Blogger had a giveaway on her blog. She asked her readers to leave a comment and later she would draw a name at random from the folks that commented. I NEVER win anything so even though the sheer sight of the item she was raffling made me clinch my butt cheeks together; I proceeded to leave a comment joking that if I won she should mail the prize to my mom. (My poor mom…) I know you are probably wondering what sort of prize was being raffled. Well, friends, some things are better said in pictures…

Big Red

Did your ass muscles tighten? I bet you sobbed a little, huh?

I'm a loser, baby.
 Due to my typical misfortune, I was not the lucky winner of the gigantic butt plug. I was actually a tad disappointed. Trust me… it wasn’t because I wanted to USE it. The storyteller in me was dying to blog about the ridiculousness of it. So, yeah, I was a little sad.
the REAL gigantic butt plug...Tricia's biggest fan

A few days or so later, Tricia made a blog post about some of her more creepy readers. Apparently, when she checked her stats she found that someone out there in cyber space had located her blog by entering the words “gigantic butt plug” in their search engine which she found amusing and decided to share with the rest of the class. Of course, yours truly had to leave a comment claiming responsibility, joking that I was so very distraught that I wasn’t the lucky winner that I frantically searched the World Wide Web for a butt plug equally as scary as Big Red.
Officially, dear ol’ Tricia was so amused by my comment I became the runner-up to take the throne should the REAL winner fail to do his proper duties as Miss America, err...I mean, Captain Anal Fixation. As fate would have it, the winner came to his senses and gracefully declined the offer leaving me the conquering hero in the fight for the scary ass toy.

Fortunately for me I follow Tricia’s blog because the bitch never sent me fair warning, she just blogged about it. I suppose she was afraid I’d chicken out like her last winner; instead I just clinched tight and winced.
When my “gift” arrived, my children wrestled with the package arguing over who would open it. Since we were expecting some books from eBay to arrive, I didn’t think too much of it until my son says, “Mom? Who’s Tricia Lor-uh-something?” I nearly choked on the soda I was drinking and hurdled the sofa like a gazelle just in time to commandeer the USPS Flat Rate box out of my children’s clutches and tossed the box onto my bed to open later behind closed doors out of the view of the prying eyes of my offspring.

Later after the kids went off to the Land of Nod, I opened the package. Once again, the sight of the thing made my ass muscles seize up. Then there was the note… Tricia being the silly chick that she is wrote, “I decided it needs to go to a loving home where it will be properly worshipped as it ought to be. I can tell that you will treat it with the proper respect and admiration.” This made me think of religious dogma.
I KNOW what you are thinking! How in the hell did the delivery of a butt plug bring my brain to the topic of religion?? Tricia’s mere mention of the word “worship” sent my brain into a tailspin. Instead of being god-fearing I, on the other hand, am completely butt-plug fearing. There are people that create elaborate altars to show reverence to their gods in hopes to share eternity with them in the afterlife. I, alternatively, shall build a shrine in effort to keep the gigantic jelly toy far away from my derriere. I can’t wait to explain the mini edifice buried in my closet to my husband.

Like I said before I never win anything but I guess I need to rephrase that now. I guess I don’t win anything useful…at least to me. So in conclusion as my luck would have it, the first time EVER I win any sort of raffle it is literally something to shove up my ass. Have I mentioned before that the universe hates me? Thanks, Tricia. Sorry, Mom.