Politically or otherwise. While I, in my very reasoned, never-crazy, always pre-thoughtout way, have NEVER gone apeshit on anyone with whom I disagreed...
Okay. Let me start again. While I have reacted inappropriately in the past in response to either bloggers or message board members that I interact with or family members or the general public or that fucking asshole that keeps sending insane emails to...
Well, nevermind about that last part, since it isn't true, but that guy is NUTS! And he lives in my community! But, I can't respond to him! Because I'd lose my job!
All right. Begin redux. While I appreciate the passion that informs one's political leanings and religious non-existence, and, on occasion, will sling the derogatory epithet and accompanying historical description of said epithet recipient's provenance or lack thereof and his/her hopeful nomination for rectal probity AS SOON AS POSSIBLE,...pant, pant,pant... I'm not in the general mindframe to wish those people gone or call them evil, in the context of whatever cyber location I may be visiting.
Which means that if you're an asshole at some site that I frequent and have frequented for a long time, I might be snarky and call you a crazy ass coot, but I won't call you evil (unless you are)and I won't wish you gone from the site (unless you're dangerous).
That's what blogs are for. You can call all sorts of people out that will never read you.Unless your url is on your frequented site. In which case, they won't read it anyway. But, I digress.
I have witnessed people deliberately ignore nuances of discussions about Christianity, equating the various grotesqueries carried out at some point, (NO ONE ASKED FOR THE INQUISITION!) with the current radical Islam agendas. That have as items 1-500+ killing the infidels, blah blah blah. The conversation was lengthy and convoluted and the statements made by one guy were dumbed down by the other guy and painted incorrectly. The dumbdown guy called the Christian guy "evil" since his sort of beliefs were those that led to results similar to the 9/11 guys. I reamed that guy's ass out. Not too nicely, which, I guess, I shoulda toned down since I frequent the place. Whatever.
Another guy/gal got so bent about someone who is a Democrat, but virulently detests Obama, and makes his stand known, at times ad nauseum, but, hey, we all do that at some time, that he/she expressed the desire that anti-Obama guy would leave the message board. I drilled down on that a bit to make sure I understood what he/she was saying. And he/she said, yep, that's what he/she said. So, I very rudely, unladylikely, and probably like-a-wildhaired-baglady reamed his/her ass as well. It wasn't, literarily, one of my finer moments.
I'd do it again.
I really don't give a shit what you believe. He who prevails, prevails. But, when you start the arrogant, dismissive, condescending, wrong-stating of what someone is or believes-------Oh. That sounds like our president.---and attempt at manipulation of what someone has said or desire that that particular viewpoint disappear from your immediate arena...
Well, I faht in your general direction. And, I cuss awfully and call you names and think you're a dickhead.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Dot...and Merv
I feel bad about not having posted anything in awhile. I feel badder about not reading my bloglist in awhile. Last week was a tramride of thumbtacks up the butt what with meetings and late meetings and more meetings and people making lists and just generally being obnoxious nervous-making twits. And that was just Wednesday at work.
Anyway, here are some more pics.
Also, I did happen to read Dogette and would like to link her here in a mewling not-even-alphabetized-list blog, just because that post made me laugh. Perhaps I'll get a dogalanche out of it. Merv enjoyed it, too and he's sitting right next to me on the cleaned up computer desk. Mr. Froth outdid himself totally. I didn't know there was genuine particleboard under all that shit.
Dot took her first walk today after getting over kennel cough-coughing we never heard-but, by golly, we gave her her antibiotics and now she's not coughing even less!
Anyway, here are some more pics.
Also, I did happen to read Dogette and would like to link her here in a mewling not-even-alphabetized-list blog, just because that post made me laugh. Perhaps I'll get a dogalanche out of it. Merv enjoyed it, too and he's sitting right next to me on the cleaned up computer desk. Mr. Froth outdid himself totally. I didn't know there was genuine particleboard under all that shit.
Dot took her first walk today after getting over kennel cough-coughing we never heard-but, by golly, we gave her her antibiotics and now she's not coughing even less!
I call the bottom one Dothead. Also, I was going to crop my head out of it because I'm ghastly looking, and, no, that is not a beard under my chin. I think it's like that where Dot licked me after eating dirt. Not sure. But, even if I cropped my head out to afford myself some dignity, which is pretty hopeless anymore anyway, it would have made the "head" part of Dothead not work. I believe in maintaining the purity of the artistic vision.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Dot and Pot o' Dot
I introduce the newest Froth. Dot. Dot is a rescue Yellow Lab. Mr. Froth had been going around my back the previous week. He's good at surprises like that. He had met the local dog park board officer, who gave him his card, and told him "We'll find you a Lab."
Beebs demise broke our heart. But, as the months passed, I tried to convince Mr. Froth that we needed to get another puppy at some point, preferably after the first of the year.
Last Sunday I had gone to the store and arrived back home to see Mr. Froth conversing with a former dog-walking acquaintance on our front porch. She had her newish Golden Retriever, Blue, with her. As I came onto the porch a bogusey-sounding conversation ended in mid-stream when I mentioned to her that I'd been trying to convince him, etc. etc. etc.
She said, "You can continue this conversation later. Uh. Never mind.You know nothing."
Hmmm. So, we go over to meet the fabulous new neighbors, who have two itty bitty kidlets and are walking back to our house when Mr. Froth's phone rings and he says, "I'll get this. Move along." Okay. Bogus with a capital Bogus, since as how we don't know any Jeanies in person here.
Then he has to "go to the store." He "goes to the store" and comes back with nothing.
Me: "So, what'd you get at the store?"
Mr. Froth: "giggle"
Now, I'm just waiting to get into the loop, which I was gotten into later.
The dog friend had a neighbor who was fostering rescue Labs, who knew the head of the rescue Lab group here (by the way, it's apparently the largest, or one of the largest, in the nation--most of the Labs are shipped to the northeast, mainly New Jersey, because they can't breed doggies there or require immediate spaying, whatever-y'all may know something about this). A mom dog and entire litter had been split up between foster families, and two girlies were available to adopt.
We visited the two Sunday night and the first one, while sweet, was clearly in love with the resident 4-year old Lab (and we thought she should stay there and think she will be adopted there) and the second one, Dot, was with her sister and a cool family with teenage/tween boys and a Beagle. Nice NICE people. Wonderful people. The dad is a huge Lab person although doesn't have one now, and they all were sad when Dot came to us. But, happy that we got her, because they knew she had to be adopted. The sons cried. We told them, "Come on over and visit!" They thought we were good people.
We got Dot Thursday (I named her Dot because I like Dot. I tried to think of queenly names to continue the tradition of "King" from BB and Elvis, but nothing resonated. Dot did.) She has kennel cough so still needs her final puppy shots.
She's 13 weeks this weekend. She's spayed already (they do that with rescue Labs to protect from weirdos puppymilling) and her tummy is fine.
She is the BEST. She is AWESOME. She is beautiful. She is smart. And sweet. She's a lover/snorgler. She slept through the night?!?!? She's only had a couple of accidents inside. She and Merv are almost wrestling buddies. They're still hesitant but nose kissing has occurred.
I don't know how we lucked out.
Here she is:
Beebs demise broke our heart. But, as the months passed, I tried to convince Mr. Froth that we needed to get another puppy at some point, preferably after the first of the year.
Last Sunday I had gone to the store and arrived back home to see Mr. Froth conversing with a former dog-walking acquaintance on our front porch. She had her newish Golden Retriever, Blue, with her. As I came onto the porch a bogusey-sounding conversation ended in mid-stream when I mentioned to her that I'd been trying to convince him, etc. etc. etc.
She said, "You can continue this conversation later. Uh. Never mind.You know nothing."
Hmmm. So, we go over to meet the fabulous new neighbors, who have two itty bitty kidlets and are walking back to our house when Mr. Froth's phone rings and he says, "I'll get this. Move along." Okay. Bogus with a capital Bogus, since as how we don't know any Jeanies in person here.
Then he has to "go to the store." He "goes to the store" and comes back with nothing.
Me: "So, what'd you get at the store?"
Mr. Froth: "giggle"
Now, I'm just waiting to get into the loop, which I was gotten into later.
The dog friend had a neighbor who was fostering rescue Labs, who knew the head of the rescue Lab group here (by the way, it's apparently the largest, or one of the largest, in the nation--most of the Labs are shipped to the northeast, mainly New Jersey, because they can't breed doggies there or require immediate spaying, whatever-y'all may know something about this). A mom dog and entire litter had been split up between foster families, and two girlies were available to adopt.
We visited the two Sunday night and the first one, while sweet, was clearly in love with the resident 4-year old Lab (and we thought she should stay there and think she will be adopted there) and the second one, Dot, was with her sister and a cool family with teenage/tween boys and a Beagle. Nice NICE people. Wonderful people. The dad is a huge Lab person although doesn't have one now, and they all were sad when Dot came to us. But, happy that we got her, because they knew she had to be adopted. The sons cried. We told them, "Come on over and visit!" They thought we were good people.
We got Dot Thursday (I named her Dot because I like Dot. I tried to think of queenly names to continue the tradition of "King" from BB and Elvis, but nothing resonated. Dot did.) She has kennel cough so still needs her final puppy shots.
She's 13 weeks this weekend. She's spayed already (they do that with rescue Labs to protect from weirdos puppymilling) and her tummy is fine.
She is the BEST. She is AWESOME. She is beautiful. She is smart. And sweet. She's a lover/snorgler. She slept through the night?!?!? She's only had a couple of accidents inside. She and Merv are almost wrestling buddies. They're still hesitant but nose kissing has occurred.
I don't know how we lucked out.
Here she is:
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Wasteland
No. Not the political landscape. Not Haiti, and I'm not trying to take away from that tragedy by posting this, it's just that this isn't about that. It's way more superficial...
The picture to the left, from The Garden Helper, is of an elephant ear philodendron, similar to those we have in our front yard. The largest specimen plant was a good 15 feet in circumference and 10 feet high. The smaller ones were anywhere from three feet to five feet to eight feet in various measurements.
That was two weeks ago. They are now all lying flat and brown upon the flat and brown ground. Pummelled by the freezes. Spit upon by global charming and left to decompose.
They have survived other freezes, hurricanes and assorted droughts. One even produced the phallic shaped fruit?bloom?phallus? that they do after many years of life. They all used to be cute inside potted plants until we liberated them to our landscape where they reverted to their lovely jungle genetic predetermination. Until this year.
The pothos that had overtaken our backyard and trellised up pines and had dishplate leaves are also blotto. The Wandering Jew. Meh. Forget the ferns. Lantana, a native plant, would make grand Charlie Brown Christmas trees, only barer.
This spring will bring a revamp to the Frothyards. Perhaps we'll start small with concrete gnomes and progress to panoramic gravel.
Ta Da!
What the hell is this? A wart? A mole? How did it get there? I flew all night and boy are my arms tired! Does this blood pressure cuff make me look fat? An endoscope, tongue depressor and a syringe walked into a bar and the bartender said...
How do you like me so far? I'll be here all night unless my brain explodes. Thank you.
Is this thing on (channeling Reno 911)? Well, hi there. Didn't realize that my computer was FINALLY FUCKING WORKING. I know, I cuss too much. Screw you.
The machine has been endoscoped, colonoscoped, sideways-prodded, enemaed and pesticided and it appears functional. We now have two pages of instructions on how to keep it clean and non-syphilitic. That's what happens when you're too cheap to buy a new one or pay for anti-viral medication. But, it works!
I, too, have been semi-poked, prodded and perused since I made the stupid decision to actually have a physical and perform the necessary ablations, ablutions and absolutions to maintain my deflated bubblewrap of babyboomer recycled gases of a body. Of course I need to monitor my blood pressure and I have to take cholesterol medicine now. Cholesterol has always been high, but the good one is also really high. I guess combine that with semi-iffy BP and you have to take medicine. I now have two of those little pill boxes. Which sucks and is pathetic.Well, Mr. Froth has had those for quite some time, but still.
So, I take my BP twice a day and it's amazing how it fluctuates depending on if you're feeling murderous towards idiots or calmly contemplating universal zen shit. I'm supposedly eating a lower fat, lower salt diet right now. Supposedly. And I only slightly lied about how much I smoke. Whatever.
So, I promise the doc I WILL schedule a colonoscopy, for which I'm way past the due date. It's not like I was dealing with other diseases in the past seven years. I was busy. Leave my butt alone. I did call and schedule an appointment, which is way better than my broken promises of yore.
Oh, this is funny. Don't ever ask your doc if you should do something, because he'll say, "Yes. You should." Bad move. Back when I was diagnosed with breast cancer (the seven years ago thing) the CT scans picked up a rock in my head which had to be MRI'ed before surgery to confirm it wasn't cancer, blah blah blah. It wasn't. It was an epidermoid tumor/arachnoid cyst in the left cranial fossa part of my brain, something that begins in utero and grows slowly as you age. I coulda had a twin sister in my head! That would have been really keen.
I followed up back in 2003 with a neurologist because the original neurosurgeon pissed me off SO bad with his three hour waiting periods for appointments. After you were actually in his office. The asshole. Nothing had changed in the six months since discovery, so I forgot about it. Until now. Becoming old and decrepit I thought I'd see if my doc thought I should have it looked at again. OF COURSE. Because "it's in a bad place."
What? Doc, it's in my brain. The whole place is a bad place. What are you saying? Think about it, dude. Of course, I call the neurologist and schedule an appointment.
Then there's the bone density test. Of course (of course is the operative phrase here today) the results indicate I have extremely low bone densitiness and Vitamin D levels and am taking some Vitamin D and will probably have to start taking Bonamaxphosfarto after they redo the bloodwork later. Of course. The pillbox would be sad without another pill.
My triglycerides were good!
And then I scheduled my yearly ob-gyn checkup and probably should go to the dentist some decade.
I really need to get my hair genuinely re-blonded, but not today, since the FUCKING HEATER is broken. Both of them. At least it's not freezing here anymore.
I found Mr. Froth's temporary teeth twice now and that should punch my ticket for a quick entry into heaven.
Core dump winding down now...
How do you like me so far? I'll be here all night unless my brain explodes. Thank you.
Is this thing on (channeling Reno 911)? Well, hi there. Didn't realize that my computer was FINALLY FUCKING WORKING. I know, I cuss too much. Screw you.
The machine has been endoscoped, colonoscoped, sideways-prodded, enemaed and pesticided and it appears functional. We now have two pages of instructions on how to keep it clean and non-syphilitic. That's what happens when you're too cheap to buy a new one or pay for anti-viral medication. But, it works!
I, too, have been semi-poked, prodded and perused since I made the stupid decision to actually have a physical and perform the necessary ablations, ablutions and absolutions to maintain my deflated bubblewrap of babyboomer recycled gases of a body. Of course I need to monitor my blood pressure and I have to take cholesterol medicine now. Cholesterol has always been high, but the good one is also really high. I guess combine that with semi-iffy BP and you have to take medicine. I now have two of those little pill boxes. Which sucks and is pathetic.Well, Mr. Froth has had those for quite some time, but still.
So, I take my BP twice a day and it's amazing how it fluctuates depending on if you're feeling murderous towards idiots or calmly contemplating universal zen shit. I'm supposedly eating a lower fat, lower salt diet right now. Supposedly. And I only slightly lied about how much I smoke. Whatever.
So, I promise the doc I WILL schedule a colonoscopy, for which I'm way past the due date. It's not like I was dealing with other diseases in the past seven years. I was busy. Leave my butt alone. I did call and schedule an appointment, which is way better than my broken promises of yore.
Oh, this is funny. Don't ever ask your doc if you should do something, because he'll say, "Yes. You should." Bad move. Back when I was diagnosed with breast cancer (the seven years ago thing) the CT scans picked up a rock in my head which had to be MRI'ed before surgery to confirm it wasn't cancer, blah blah blah. It wasn't. It was an epidermoid tumor/arachnoid cyst in the left cranial fossa part of my brain, something that begins in utero and grows slowly as you age. I coulda had a twin sister in my head! That would have been really keen.
I followed up back in 2003 with a neurologist because the original neurosurgeon pissed me off SO bad with his three hour waiting periods for appointments. After you were actually in his office. The asshole. Nothing had changed in the six months since discovery, so I forgot about it. Until now. Becoming old and decrepit I thought I'd see if my doc thought I should have it looked at again. OF COURSE. Because "it's in a bad place."
What? Doc, it's in my brain. The whole place is a bad place. What are you saying? Think about it, dude. Of course, I call the neurologist and schedule an appointment.
Then there's the bone density test. Of course (of course is the operative phrase here today) the results indicate I have extremely low bone densitiness and Vitamin D levels and am taking some Vitamin D and will probably have to start taking Bonamaxphosfarto after they redo the bloodwork later. Of course. The pillbox would be sad without another pill.
My triglycerides were good!
And then I scheduled my yearly ob-gyn checkup and probably should go to the dentist some decade.
I really need to get my hair genuinely re-blonded, but not today, since the FUCKING HEATER is broken. Both of them. At least it's not freezing here anymore.
I found Mr. Froth's temporary teeth twice now and that should punch my ticket for a quick entry into heaven.
Core dump winding down now...
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Quickly. Shhh. Drive by
My home computer is kaput. It's at the sanitorium for mental computers. One day we'll have it back. Scrubbed without the 11 hour Spybot-taxing voices bedevilling it. Plus, I'm at my new job, new place, new stuff to do and have been busy and can't post. Busy is good but geez can I just post a little? Just a little? No?
wah.
Carry on.
wah.
Carry on.
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