The future

Mr. Froth and I had a very interesting discussion the other night during which we came to conclusions and realized that world leaders should pay attention to us.

Be that as it were...

I'm thinking the legacy for the One is fracture to some extent. Somewhat due to his history and current manifestations of scariness, along with his coterie of nattering nabobs of negativity. Somewhat due to external societal constructs and internalization of those ideas and events that we can't avoid. Agent Smart vs. Kaos. Agent Smart being people who actually think. Kaos being, well, knee-jerk sorts.

The faux riling up of racism is key in perpetuating the community organizer, Alinsky, agitation model of pissing the most people, of all races, economic strata and intellectual ability, off. Most people are, indeed, of goodwill, and don't operate with AGENDAS throughout the days of their lives. Most normal people, of goodwill, learn and adjust, adapt and compromise, and don't function with hatred as their fuel. Agitation aggravates the fringes which the agitators just lurve.

Folks with grudges from boy or girlfriend dumpings past, imagined or real discriminatory situations past, and educationally skewed pasts either get over it and grow up and try to positively prevent those things from happening again, or, they fertilize the seed of their anger and use it to foster their individual vendettas until they die. Taking along unsuspecting,stupid and vulnerable people with them. For their own personal megalomaniacal gain.

No. Surely not. You mean some people like power? No. Get out.

Perfect storm with a supposedly "post racial" presidency, coupled with a world situation in which several groups actually want us dead. Not because we're not producing reparations for slights dating back to Leif Ericson's day (By the way, I want reparations for pillage, rape and plundering since I'm a descendant of, probably, some Scandinavian peasant who Odin threw into a funeral pyre somewhere. Plus, I'm a woman. Don't get me started. You won't win.) or Native American atrocities (By the way, Mr. Froth is part Cherokee, as are our Frothlets. Don't get me started. You won't win.) or the day that the African warlord sold his tribemates into slavery for whatever it was he got, other than kudos in 21st century America, or trying to keep illegal immigrants from entering our borders----No. It's because they believe we're infidels. Hamas, Hezbollah and Al Quaeda don't give a rat's ass about our lack of empathy and humanity. It's because we're infidels.

So, all that above (how's that for a transition) coupled with the immediacy of the media we have today we have a positive shitstorm of ridiculousness to carry us forward for the next few years. And, it's really dangerous. No, you can't negotiate and schmooze with Shariah law. Surprise. With the internet, youtube, tv, radio, blogs, tweets and books of all kinds the opportunity to foment is so lush and available it's amazing that someone's head hasn't exploded already.

The losers like Bill Ayers, Jeremiah Wright, Rahm Emanuel, Oliver Stone, George Soros have played the useful idiots well. But, they've underestimated their landscape. Too many people are too smart and too informed to ignore their shenanigans. But, the other side is being played as well, and those of us who tend to the right, center right need to pay attention. Stupid abounds on both sides and it bodes ill for our future.

Dunking Persian magnolia

Occasionally, due to distraction or, well, aging, one misunderstands one's conversation partner's statement. Like when you're trying to channel your shoe-spirit guide and Dot brings over her stuffed wiener dog to throw and you think she wants a pedicure. Of course, that would never happen because have you ever tried to use one of those pedipaws pieces of crap? Why yes, please DO take your belt sander and file my nails. The net net is, the message was intercepted and skewed.

Once again I free associate and get off task. A couple of years ago Mr. Froth was visiting an ex-coworker at his lovely home in Austin and as they entered the foyer the resident cat slunk by and plopped down.

Mr. Froth, taking his coat off (it was winter and the temperature was a miserable 50 degrees):
"Wow, that's beautiful. Is it a Persian?"
Austin friend: "Well, no. Angora."
Mr. Froth: "Really? Shit, looks like a Persian to me. I didn't know they even made Angora rugs."
Austin friend: "Rug? I thought you were talking about Weezlebeezle. The cat. He's Angora."
Mr. Froth: "Beer?"

And then a couple of weeks ago we were walking the Dot and passing by a house with obvious moving vannish sorts of vehicles in the driveway and against the curb.
Me: "Oooh. Magnolia!"
Mr. Froth: "No. They have Colorado license plates."
Me: "?"
Mr. Froth: "They moved from Magnolia? But, they have Colorado license plates." (Magnolia is a town near us.)
Me: "I have no idea. Look at that magnolia tree in the yard. It's huge and blooming."
Mr. Froth: "Dot. Go pee. Go pee. Do you need to poop?"

The dunking thing we've forgotten. It might have come from a discussion with his folks during which NBA events and doughnuts were involved. Whatever, "dunking contest" was the result and it meant CAN YOU PLEASE PAY ATTENTION?

Now, whenever we answer each other in non sequiturs we invoke dunking Persian magnolias.

That's all.

Post toasties?

Some questionable weather last night

As I was just starting to mentally decompose (more so than usual) and drift off into sleepyland last night while watching The Bourne Identity (now that's a boring flick) I happened to push my eyeballs up and sideways and saw out of the front door LOOMING BLACK CLOUDS. Clouds as dark as Rahm Emanuel's gullet (what with him eating the bones of virgin griffons and such.) They were intimidating clouds.

So, I popped up, less sleepy and on  full weather-geek alert.
Me: "Man the stations! Check the physowigimometers!"
Mr. Froth: "Mrff. What?"
Me: "We're gonna die!"

I hastened to the computer, pulling up Intellicast and the local Weather Channel sites. FYI, Intellicast is much better than the local Weather Channel site since it actually displays actual storms when they're happening, as opposed to the other which displays a blank map. The helpful map indicated a gigantic glob of death-dealing thunderstorms that included DEEP RED and PURPLE PARTS! Yes! Coming straight for us! I shit you not.

With that information at hand I unplugged the cable from the tv and turned the computer off.

Then we took a libation and smokes and went out to the garage to watch. The approaching mass resembled a bowl of 45-day-old whole milk- well, gray milk with some black mixed in, maybe milk with leftover Oreo bits that had lain underneath childrens' beds for a couple of months. Only moving. Not that that stuff didn't move when it was under their beds, but this was movier.

The sky clumped along, low, menacing, like me when I'm pissed off at Dot for eating the carpet.

Would any of this, connected by commas, colons and semicolons qualify for a Bulwer-Lytton contest? I' m trying for bad similes and stuff.

Lightning started and there were some righteous bolts poking about.

We anxiously awaited the driving rains. Maybe not anxiously because Mr. Froth was babbling on about some song or other and I was trying to be ON ALERT but he'd just babble some more. But, we awaited.

Finally, after watching the pine trees sway and swish and drop some green cones, a stray drop dropped.
With that I raced back to the computer to see how close we were to devastation.

The innernets wouldn't come up! Is the cable out? I had noticed the tv flicker off just before I'd unplugged the cable earlier, hoping to contain and conserve whatever cable juice was remaining in the cables attached to the tv...you never know when a storm might just reach in and grab your own personal cable juice.

It's funny. You can't pull up the intertube when you've unplugged the cable.

So, I raced back to the garage to monitor the situation personally and continue the babbling /song discussion with Mr. Froth.

The wind wound down and everything went away except for 12 mile distant rumbles (we know it was 12 miles because we employ the scientifically correct method of calculation of using one second for every mile between the flash and the first rumble.)

We went to bed and it rained last night, I guess. I like to think that I, individually, averted what could have been a really crummy situation-spotting the weather, noting the weather, listening to babbling and unplugging the cable.

If you're not a professional at this, you just can't realize.

Almost intact

Amusingly, ironically and laughably I missed Primordial Slack as I was reconstructing the roll. That's what happens when you take me down, beyotch!

Well, that and the sprinkler heads. No Klondike Bars, though.

I think it's intact

No, not THAT. That got busted decades ago, silly.

My blogroll! I probably missed someone. But, without it I can't check on people and I miss bundles of happenings. I missed bundles in the last week! I'm bundle deficient!

I'm going to clean out my closet and search for designer clothes I've never bought but which might have emerged from my Target specials in the dark. That's possible, isn't it?

So, Patti.

What's your url there?

Hellooooooooo

Budget season-like wabbit season only without the tasty stew afterwards. Just gnarled bits of co-workers' psyches and adrenal glands.
We have another week or so of it and then it will calm down sorta. Fortunately, I don't have to develop the budget. That would make me loonier than I already am.
All of the meetings require that I sleep occasionally so I haven't been blogging.
But, I haven't necessarily been sleeping either because Dot or Merv or kids or thunderstorms have made too much noise.

Today is Friday. After looking at the 40 some things that dogs have ruined (see the comments to my previous post-THANKS PATTI!-I'll link you/it when I get home) I feel better. I really do. My decent sunglasses, thigh muscle, 20 CD's and leather couch seem small potatoes to the DESTROYED CAR...that was pretty awesome. I particularly liked the loose head, too.

I will, too, reinstate my blogroll 'cause it's the only way I can efficiently check up on everyone. Seriously. This week just hasn't been conducive.

One more update-I got my hair cut a bit with layers. Immediately after the procedure it looked dahling.
One day after it looked like ass.
Three days after I've figured out how to dry it correctly and I'll maybe have to use a curling iron which is so wrong and annoying I can't even begin. Whatever. It'll grow again and then I can get it totally chopped off after I hit the high school reunion.
I think I'll get a reincarnation of the shag or Vidal Sassoon. Or the Marines. Like that. I can't wait!

Never Mind

I found a cached page and I shall just reenter everybody.

This is what happens when you listen to Gipsey Kings, drink wine and manipulate sprinklers.

Just sayin'.

HELP!

I was just trying to add Primordial Slack's new website and it deleted everything on my blogroll from the letter "G" on down.

Is there anything I can do?

La Musica y Bueno News

So, Dot has been availing herself of my cd's during the days both Mr. Froth and I are at work at the same time. During the non-staggered-lunch time she has partaken of the cd tower in our living room. Along with some earphones and things.

However, as I was picking up an intact cd this afternoon I thought, self, you ain't been listening to music like you should. I go through streaks when I listen to nothing, only because once I start listening I would like to listen for hours. But, since as how I had to sit on the porch and monitor the cranky sprinkler heads that occasionally work and occasionally don't work I thought I'd pop in a cd I rescued that wasn't chewed and was loose. It was one of my Gipsey Kings cd's.  People. Gipsey Kings are like listening to pizza with anchovies (I like anchovies) with a side of Jack in the Box Cheddar Wedges, a meal that I would be proud to call my last.

I missed an opportunity to see them at our local pavilion a couple of years ago and I regret it.

Disclaimer: I've worked with gipseys in the US while a claim adjuster; our oldest deals with them in the retail clothes business and they are supreme scam artists and, well, you know.

However, the Gipsey Kings are Pyrenees/Basquian sorts that probably generated all the families, but I don't care.

Their music is invigorating and fabulous and rocking. If you like amplified acoustic guitars and punchy beats and just great fucking music. Plus, they're paying their way and I'm sure atoning for all the scumbags that came after. Anyway.

I have five of their cd's. I think four are still intact. What's even better (I know, I know, I should have an Ipod or whatever, but that is not going to happen. It just isn't. Not until someone buys me a new one and loads it with all my cd's.)

What's even better is that the $200 Sony headphones that Mr. Froth bought me about five years ago, while shredded from use by the Frothlets and chewed on by the Dot, operate superbly. Maybe even better on the right side where the rubber cushion is disintegrated. How fine is that? You hear all the percussion and weird sounds bouncing about your head way better than cheapass earbuds. And, they're wrecked! I'm going to try to remove the remaining rubber part on the left side.

So, I still have some miraculous cd's awaiting listening, I only got two fireant bites while adjusting the sprinklers and my toes are now sporting a lovely, shimmery peach nail polish. TOTAL DE-HIDEOUSNESS FROM THE TURQUOISE.

That shit startled me every time I looked at it. Mr. Froth asked me when the barbells fell on my feet. I axed myself, when did I start exsanguinating.

Now my toes look like an appropriately sweaty, aged Texan's should.

It's all good!

This is pathetic

We're babysitting our neighbors' aged Beagle and aged orange tabby cat. Obviously, they've survived or semi-thrived throughout the years even with the, well, neglect. The cat was originally a stray and very aggressive, so they confined him to the garage for his accommodations. With appropriate food, water and egress to the outside. The Beagle, I think was the "dog" for the daughter, who has grown up, gone to school and doesn't really participate in dog stuff.

Unfortunately, the doggie is in that stage where she poops inside if she's inside, what with being 13ish and so. We have been through that. We gave our pup the benefit of the doubt during the last old stage and continued to let him live his life inside and out, cleaning the carpet and floors when needed. This pooch is pretty much relegated to outside all the time. Although, I was told that she was allowed inside for a couple of hours when they were home to remedy the extreme heat that abounds here.

It sucks. She sleeps outside most of the day and we've taken it upon ourselves to go over and slop in their pool while she gets a reprieve inside for awhile. That's all fine and good and I feel virtuous lying on their pool chairs while the pup lies on the floor for an hour or so. But, we can't LIVE over there. So, when it's time to scoot her outside again I feel bad. There is a fan on the covered patio, but it's still 9000 fucking Crazy Joan Heads hot and, well, it just sucks.

The cat is still inhabiting the garage and welcomes pets and ear scritches and has turned into a sweetheart. How fucked is that that the cat has never gone inside?

I've been tempted to let them both in to sleep the night , but the poop carnage and all would be mighty and they just had their carpets cleaned and you know how that goes...

Crap.

Boy howdy.

Am I cranky or what? Oh, not externally cranky particularly, although I was a raging beyotch last week for no reason to Mr. Froth. He's a gem. Don't ax. It might have had something to do with fatigue. Or fireworks. I forget.

But, anyway. This whole week has been an exercise in slogging through wet blankets and headaches. It was all I could do to not surf the net at work. NOT THAT I'D EVER DO THAT. Add filing into that mix and my life was complete. Filing is the hell of anyone's workplace. Filing sucks. Filing is boring. Filing is pointless, especially if the powers that be think they have an electronic version that they think works. What a bunch of hoohah. In order for that to work one must actually use the electronics. Like computers. Some people, like bosses, don't like that, so one ends up printing out shit that one would not have printed out if all were on board with the electronic version. Defeating the purpose. It's goofy.

But, back to cranky. Many things have increased the crank. People who look and act stupid. Or sound stupid. Or drive stupid. Or talk stupid. That pretty much covers it all.

Speaking of stupid, I have turquoise toenails. I seriously bought OPI turquoise polish, put it on my toes and it is hideous. Just blatantly hideous. I'm too fucking old to do that. I like turquoise, but this, THIS, is not good. It's staying on until Monday night, so I can gross people out at work Monday morning.

I have lost whatever modicum of decorum and other "ums" necessary to coexist in polite society it seems.

Doggie Goodies

Courtesy of Dr. Fooms, where he has some other links to other goodies. We just about lost our brisket. Can't figure out how to embed.

http://www.tradenstuff.com/Misc/Video/BreakfastWithGinger.WMV

Happy Early 4th

This past week has been tiring, to say the least. Between possible storms, real flooding and 9000 Crazy Joan Heads heat consistently plus it's not the heat it's the humidity oh shut up we're drowning so shut up shut up shut up but our skin looks luminescent...


It's been a week.

So, anyway, whatever. We now have three extry cats visiting because all the Frothlets plus girlfriend are at Grand Lake in Oklahoma, where girlfriend's folks have a place on it. Grand Lake, that is. We do not have a place on Grand Lake. It's a really pretty, large lake. With boats and things. Unlike us, who have mosquitoes and extry cats. Don't you know Dot is just loving the barking opportunities with the cats. I thought my headache was weather induced. I think it's just noise. The kittehs smartly are avoiding the Dot, more or less. And shitting places they shouldn't. I don't care. Just, really, bleh.

The real reason for this post is that the Sci Fy channel isn't holding its usual Twilight Zone marathon.

That fucking sucks. Stupes.

Well, we're going to a fireworks event tomorrow that we've never been invited to before so we're going to eat, drink and be merry and watch what really, truly is a decent massive fireworks display in the general region. Not as large as Houston's, obviously, but not shabby. Plus, we can see it up close and personal at the restaurant where the "event" is held. And hobnob, dontcha know.

We'll be sweating like pigs and eating crappy seafood but hey, we have parking passes. Are we cool or what?