Fuck Winter
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Posted:Jan 9, 2014 12:38 pm
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2014 5:34 am
9296 Views
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I swear, if it snows again before this week is over, I am going to go fucking beserk. I have not stepped one toe outside the door in over a week. I need to see the sun and run around in the yard in my flip flops and hike my favorite conservation area. Fuck Winter.
Theres not a lot for me to blog about right now. Same tired shit happens daily. So here is a rundown of the current excitement in my life.
Every woman I know under the age of 30 is pregnant. I will not be drinking the same water they are, though I have to admit it would be something of a miracle if I did get pregnant.
I am dieting and starting Monday I am going to be doing an hour of swimming at a local gym every day, because while pleasantly plump is not a bad look, the fact that my ass was on the verge of needing a back up alarm is not acceptable. And diets suck, because I like to cook and eat. But I have to do it, weight and arthritis do not mix well.
So far things are going well, I haven't given in to the urge to eat an entire cheesecake and my clothes are starting to be a bit looser, which is a wonderful reward. When I am halfway to my goal, I am going to go buy something fabulous in my target goal size, so I have something to work for. Learning to restructure my eating habits sucks ass though, because everything that tastes like heaven to me is absolutely buttloaded with fat.
Weebit has successfully learned to say please and thank you. It has only taken me 3 months to teach her that. BigBit has started following suit. It is a small accomplishment to the eyes of some, but to me it is a small miracle.
In February I am going to Southern California for a week, with a former blogger, to meet another blogger and hang out in the sunshine.
I am living for the day I get on that plane at the moment. I am sick of Winter, sick of cold, sick of snow, sick of being in a cage, and in general just a disgruntled bitch.
Well, weebit is up and she is terrorizing the cat as I type, so I'm off and running.
Hope you are staying warm in your neck of the woods!
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8
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Thought for the Day!
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Posted:Dec 27, 2013 10:57 am
Last Updated:Jan 21, 2014 9:45 am
9456 Views
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And you really can't argue that fact, can ya? 
Christmas was really wonderful, New Years looks to be shaping up marvelously, and there is a 99.999% chance that I am going to be dipping my toe in the Pacific ocean for my birthday in the company of some wonderful people.
Other than that, life is blissfully and peacefully normal.
I hope everyone else had a good holiday too.
I am off in search of some inspiration. 
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9
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Weird Inspiration
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Posted:Dec 22, 2013 10:52 am
Last Updated:Jan 14, 2014 11:41 am
9515 Views
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Phil Robertson.
The man, the myth....I am to the point of hysterical bemusement at the number of posts I have seen on the book-face place about this man and the shit he said.
My question is... So what?
So what if he said something incredibly offensive to so many people? In the larger scheme of things, offensive statements are uttered about once every nanosecond in our modern cyber-connected world. I say them, you say them. Butthurt abounds the whole damn world over.
It always has, it always will. Unfortunately, it is the nature of the beast. And political correctness is not the solution to this problem. Diplomatic honesty without malice would go a hell of a lot farther.
Behold the logical result of political correctness, your very opinions are subject to the will of the people. However, to me political correctness is just one step this side of lying.
I would much rather people feel free to call me an asshole to my face and be done with the matter. I wear my big girl panties every day, and unless you are someone who is an elemental part of my life, your opinion is nothing more than that; your opinion. And as such, it really will not bother me much at all. And don't worry, I won't run and tell my Mommy you said something mean to me. Nor will I hire a lawyer and sue you.
But back to Phil. Again, so what?
The man has been dealt with by his employers, he has been both glorified and crucified in media. What more do we want here? Should we hang him from the yardarm as a warning to anyone else on the planet that having a politically incorrect opinion will NOT be tolerated. However, those of you who are deforesting the rain forests, and those of you who are setting off earthquakes and contaminating the water and the ground with fracking, and those of you who are killing innocents with unmanned drone strikes and those of you who are abusing your authority, those of you who are committing malicious harmful crimes against humanity....carry on, we see nothing.
And just one more thing. Am I the ONLY human on the planet that finds it very curious that an urbane magazine like GQ would ask a conservative backwoods Baptist minister a question that anyone who has ever watched one episode of that show already knows the answer to? This man did battle with the network to be allowed to pray on the stinking show, people. It was a leading question, designed to distract people who want to ignore the political burning or Rome going on here. The Senate debated and approved the NDAA while this uber important scandal had the search engines going nuts with his name and GQ magazine this weekend. Soon, any one on American soil can be arrested without due process, simply because of suspicion. But that is not nearly as important as how horrible it is that there is a famous figure with an offensive opinion, is it?
And people wonder why I hate to leave the house.
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What Da FuQ?
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Posted:Dec 11, 2013 12:12 pm
Last Updated:Dec 14, 2013 9:51 pm
10130 Views
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Mad love Gentlemen, but sending me photos of your dick doesn't work. Looking at a dick has the same effect on me that looking at a stick does. It is an object and it only has meaning if I have a need or use for it.
Since I state openly and clearly that I am not looking for anything other than a place to pass time while the bit naps or I am going through a round of insomnia....I have yet to understand why I have such a tool collection in my mail here.
I mean, hell if you want to send me photos of your dick for objective judgement, feel free. But could you like do something with it? Draw it a sharpie face that gives it an attitude? Or dress it up in a little hat and poncho?
I would find that incredibly funny.
Maybe I should start a photo contest for the best dressed cock on Senior Sizzle.
Whose in?
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Ho Ho Humbug
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Posted:Dec 10, 2013 1:17 pm
Last Updated:Dec 21, 2013 12:25 pm
10803 Views
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I know I said I was never going to share any more of my pics on here, but since I have no plans to do anything with this shot other than use it on the net, I decided I would. Consider it my Christmas card to this place and it's many people. This took me 5 years to capture. I saw something similar and wanted to try my hand at it. Let me tell you, it is not as easy as it looks. It really is all about the timing with things of this nature.
Sooo, it is the holidays. I find myself excited for the first time in many years to see them coming. I suppose it is the sense of family and continuity in my life that has given me back my former joy for the season.
Plus, I have learned that if I shop online and with small local shops here where I live and avoid the teeming masses of stupidity that I would encounter should I go to one of the bigger corporate places, I am no longer filled with an unnameable sorrow at the direction we are headed as a society.
I come from an age of maybe getting one or maybe two toys for Christmas and then smaller gifts from friends and relatives. My most favorite Christmas was the year I got my Beyer horses. I wanted those so badly for so long. So when I got the pair of them that I wanted for Christmas I nearly cried I was so happy. I think I was around 12 or so.
My Grandmothers both always gave me socks and underwear. From the church family we always got a huge fruit basket. A relative who lived in Florida always came for a visit and brought a huge box of Oranges and Pecans. Those Oranges were always fresh and so sweet and tart. I have not tasted Oranges like those in many years. And 'store bought' Orange juice will never taste as good as those Oranges squeezed into juice, fresh every morning with breakfast.
Another thing that happened when I was a during the holidays were the visits. Family, old friends...you could count on seeing both sometime during that two week span between Christmas and New Year. I used to sit quietly and listen as the adults spoke when people visited. My dad and some of his cousins used to tell tales on one another. It was always a good story too. My dad and his cousins were the prototypes for "them Duke Boys". Unfortunately the cops were a hell of a lot smarter than Roscoe. Sometimes I was extremely fortunate and there would be a cousin, or some other to play with along for these visits. Living remotely and having an alcoholic father pretty much ensured that I did not have many playmates my age, so it was so awesome when my age came over.
For many years, I had forgotten those memories. Well, maybe not forgotten. I repressed many of my happiest memories of childhood by clinging on to a venomous hatred that served no purpose in my life except to make me a miserable person. It is nice to think on them now. While I might have been subjected to many things as a , it was not all bad.
Of course there are some bad memories associated with this time in my life. My sister used to get so excited about Christmas she would get physically ill. It was the first physical manifestation of her Bi-polar disorder. I was excited too, but so repressed. Expressions of joy about Christmas were kept at a conversational level, and spoken about only with family. "Because Christmas was Jesus birthday, and being excited about getting gifts and seeing friends and family and only doing a minimum of chores on the farm was considered to be in poor taste." It took me a lot of time to wrap my head around the whys of it all, but I was an introvert as a . So it was quite easy to not speak unless spoken to.
(Thankfully, I am over that awkward phase).
For a many many year, I lost all love for this holiday. The consumerism of the young working mother. The competition of "My present is better than your present", the old family arguments and fights that eventually replaced the yearly visits from friends and family. Bad marriages. Lots of alcohol....it took that joy right out of me for just about everything, but it made me hate Christmas with a special kind of venom.
And then when I hit my late twenties, I started seeing that joy in my eyes and small amounts of what once was an endless fountain of happiness began to trickle back to me. I found joy through my . I found happiness in their happiness. I used to love hearing them hit the floor on Christmas morning. When those feet hit the floor they were running. And the laughter that was so close to tears when something much hoped for was found under the tree. I wish I could explain to you how shrill the screaming was when they got a Nintendo. I think my ear drums might have bled slightly.
But then my days of being a mother passed. They died a horrific death, with no warning and I found myself, for the first time in 20 years, alone for the holidays. The first year, I kept myself immersed in the lifestyle. The endless round of cocktail parties and dances and nights of sexual pleasure, with no real connection to much of anything other than my mother and co workers. It filled a void in my life and it kept me from taking a short route off the rock. At that time in my life, the struggle to stay under a roof and out of a shelter was all too real. I lived for many months in motels and out of my car. My first Christmas alone was just that. Completely alone, in a strange city, with very few friends and no family. I worked that entire week, as many shifts as they would give me, so I could buy gifts for my Grand's. And honestly? I had a blast! There are some very kind and wonderful people who are alone in this world, just like I was at that time. And that old saying was never more true, misery does indeed love company. But we do not seek to commiserate on Christmas, most of the lonester's I knew were looking for a friend to bring some reason for joy back to the season. Granted, there were drunken assholes aplenty, but there were some really wonderful folks that made the holidays happy for me. I kinda get misty when I wonder where they are now.
There were only four of the kidlets then. I have six now, plus two steps, plus two more on the way, plus the two I babysit. I now understand why I always got underwear for Christmas from my Grandmothers.
But maybe it is that I am no longer alone in the world. Or maybe it is being around , who are starting to get that gleam of hope and excitement in their eyes and voices now. Maybe it is hearing my Grandkids laugh and say "Thank you" with hugs that nearly knock me out of my chair.
Maybe it is seeing the ghost of the young mother I once was playing about the smile on my daughters face as she watches her opening gifts.
I don't really know exactly what it is that has given me back my love for this holiday and all the love and happiness that gets shared between people.
But I do know, it is good to feel it again.
Happy Holidays to you all.
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I Have the Flu
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Posted:Nov 25, 2013 12:46 pm
Last Updated:Dec 10, 2013 1:24 pm
11289 Views
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Because that is what happens when you take care of mini germ incubators, and then subject yourself to a 9 year old sleep-over party.
I will return to blogging when I don't feel like hammered shit.
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This Magic Moment
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Posted:Nov 16, 2013 11:52 am
Last Updated:Dec 11, 2013 9:40 am
11759 Views
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Ah, Saturday! Time to don your pointy hat, let your hair down and ski the shit out of the day. Carpe something!
Or if you are me...do all that laundry you have been letting go for ...oh, about 8 days now and listen to the wind blow and debate taking a nap when you are done with the folding.
I am kinda pouting. It is a lovely warm day here, temps are in the 60's and just perfect for doing the fall tidy up and square away in the garden, but the wind is rolling through here like it is Springtime. And raking leaves and mulching plants in this kind of wind just says you want to do it twice.
Fuck it. I guess I can go clean my room and try to locate my Winter clothes.
My life is just a thrill a minute, I tell ya.
Have a good weekend folks!
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Out of Time
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Posted:Nov 14, 2013 1:36 pm
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2013 4:26 am
11159 Views
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I spent nap time Christmas shopping online....so I have no time left to blog.
Someone should spank me.
Maybe I will feel inspired tomorrow.
Before I catch hell...the image I posted is a joke, not a dick, so don't take it hard.
Adios!!
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Misty Oil-Painted Memories
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Posted:Nov 12, 2013 12:47 pm
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2013 4:34 am
11599 Views
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Bonus!! I don't know what to do with myself. I don't have the Bits today, the elder one has a tummy ache.
Holy SHIT, ya'll. I am home alone!!!
If only Tom Cruise would come over and dance in his underwear for me.
It would be nicer if he could like dust or sweep while he is dancing.
I am dreading Winter this year. It isn't even cold yet and I am already starting to feel caged up. There are times when my Gypsy feeds me dreams of throwing some vital things in a backpack and just hitting the road like I used to do when I was younger. But hitchhiking these days is suicidal. So while I might be feeling caged, I am not feeling helter skelter crazy just yet. Besides, I have quite the collection of memories of that time in my life when helter skelter crazy was my 24/7 way of living, and I am not inclined to add to those memories. There is not a day that I don't pause for a moment to reflect on the fact that I have managed to live this long. When I was young, I doubted lasting until I was 40. I'm not sure if it is divine providence or just sheer dumb luck that has kept me here.
I sometimes sit and think about all the things I have done, some of them good, others not so much. I wonder if given the chance to do it all over again, would I change anything. The short answer is very little; except getting married. I doubt I would ever get married again or even live with any of them. But I definitely would have fucked the devils out of them. Particularly the third one...while he might have had more issues than 12 years of National Geographic, that man was a very creative and interesting lover. My first forays into BDSM, my first couple swap, my first threesome....he taught me so much about my own sexuality. I was in my mid-thirties then and until I met him I was all about the missionary position with the lights off. I was painfully shy and very ashamed of my own lustful nature. If I owe him nothing else, I owe him my thanks for opening those doors for me.
I found out just recently that he has died. It is a bittersweet thing for me. While I am no longer in love with him, and living with him was impossible because of his drug addiction, I still cared about him as a friend. I was happy to hear that he was able to get off the dope eventually, but unfortunately the dope killed him in the end with two kinds of cancer. If I know him (and I do), if I had asked him about his feelings on the matter he would have looked me dead in the eye and told me it was a price he was willing to pay to dance on the razors edge.
He was an injured adrenaline junkie when I met him, cooped up in a wheelchair. I often wonder if that is not what drove him to use, or if it was being addicted to the heavy pain killers he was given at the onset of his injuries. He got blown off a ladder by an exploding boiler in a factory. While it didn't break his back, it damaged his spinal cord and his brain, so he had to learn to do everything from scratch again. Walking, talking, feeding himself. The longest to heal was his spine, and while the other issues he had to face came with a lot of work that kept him busy, the healing of his spine was one of those sit still and wait things. He was not good at sitting and waiting on anything. But that was part of his charm. Meeting him when I did had about the same affect as dangling a steak in front of a starving man.
I think the thing that drew me to him the most was how when I met him the very first time, he had the ability to see through all of my carefully constructed masks and right into the heart of who I really was. The first thing he said to me after introducing himself was, "You have a fire in you that no one has ever touched. Wanna go to dinner?"
He was a madcap too. This man had no fear of the outrageous. Once, in my small hometown of southern farmers numbering less than 70,000 people in the entire county, he took me on a 2am shopping spree dressed in a pair of thermal underwear with Santa Claus boxer shorts over them, a pair of lineman's boots, a tee-shirt with the sleeves cut out and a leather jacket. You have no idea how grateful I am that there was no such thing as a cell phone camera then. But then, I really wish I had a photo of that moment. I don't know that I have ever laughed any harder in my life.
He was a good man in so many ways. But I was a mother who did not want her to grow up in that environment. Having an alcoholic father taught me that much at least. We parted abruptly, when he checked himself out of his sixth rehab center 3 days after admission and showed up at my job high as a kite.
I won't say I am exactly mourning his death, but I do wish things had gone differently.
So here's to you, my one time love. May the road be smooth, may the wind be behind you and your knees to the breeze. I hope you find that peace that eluded you while you were here.
Peace out peeps! I think I am going to declare today an Non Cartoon Day and watch something on the idiot box.
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Crashing Crescendos, Yo?
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Posted:Nov 8, 2013 10:52 am
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2013 4:35 am
11827 Views
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I am listening to music. The Caliph of Bagdad Overture as preformed by New Philharmonia Orchestra. Good Stuff.
I love music. It soothes me, it inspires me, it educates me, it rouses a passion in me; sometimes all at once. Well, almost all of it.
Some of the shit Lil'Wayne has put out that blew up... omg, REALLY? And whoever that girl is who sings about cake cake cake...wtf ever. Exactly why do I need a bunch of snot nosed trying to convey sexuality to me, when all they understand about it is the act itself without ever considering the intricacies of the human emotions that are involved? is starting to lose its appeal now that I am no longer going out dancing until 3 am every weekend.
But I still like to listen to it, a lot of these guys are actually spitting some real truths about life in the eyes of our . It is a sociological statement about the times in which we live. Some of it restores my faith in humanity, some of it makes me wonder if we are going to last as a species for another decade.
Country music and popular music....some of it is good, a lot of it is just hokey, some of it is scary when you think about what they are saying in the lyrics, but I listen to it on a whim once in a while. Mostly I like to turn it on when I am cleaning the house. It usually has a peppy beat and I can actually get into a bizarre rhythm with it and it speeds up a rather boring bit of day to day life.
Old school rock, with emphasis on the late 70's to early 80's is nostalgia music for me. When I want to head trip back to the days of my wild and largely misspent youth, I dig on old southern rock like Bob Seger and Lynnard Skynnard (pre-plane crash),and Foghat, Molly Hatchet, AC/DC...sometimes when I am here alone and the house is quiet with the family gone and the Bits home with Mama...I like to go watch those old videos and reminisce about those little bits of childhood that I found happiness in...friends, moments that had an impact or evolved my thinking...yeah. It is a nice way to enjoy the peace and quiet, reconnecting with my inner and looking at where that has gone in her life and reconciling her with the woman she has become.
The Blues, Zydeco, old school Jazz. that is music for just kicking it. Sitting back, watching the world go by and hanging with friends. And I like to listen to it when I am driving. Zydeco makes me drive too fast, I get lost in that beat and go with it and then I am doing 90 on the freeway. I have found that between the hours of 2am and 4am, listening to Zydeco will put a lot of miles behind you on long drives.
Classical. I am not a lover of details, so I can only name composers I like and a few pieces that I want to buy or listen to online. I don't know dates, movements, numbers, chords or even which orchestra does a better rendition. My head would explode if I tried to stuff all that data in it. I am not at all a person for details when it comes to what only serves as entertainment in my life. Nor am I particularly good conversationalist for those who do have all those details and tiny bits if information that make no difference whatsoever to me when compared to the overall experience of actually hearing the piece performed and having it move your heart to a passionate response. I have been moved to tears by Chopin's nocturnes. Classical is the music that is always playing in my head. I hear certain of these movements of music playing in my head like the soundtrack of my life. I like to listen to classical music when I write. It comes with the added bonus of adding almost an hour of napping for Weebit. It lulls her to sleep in nothing flat. In my objective studies of her sleeping habits, I have found if I play classical music instead of watching something mind numbing on tv, she will on the average sleep at least an hour longer.
But, it seems that my hour is up for the day. Wee is waking up and she will be needing my attention.
Oh and one more thing...any or all of the above mentioned styles of music, plus the eleventy two other genres not mentioned, are the greatest sex aid on the planet for me. Music has ALWAYS made sex better for me. What about you?
And...what is your life's soundtrack?
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10
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Insanity, Aisle Ten....
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Posted:Nov 7, 2013 12:09 pm
Last Updated:Nov 18, 2013 4:36 am
11909 Views
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Isn't that relaxing to look at?
So, is anyone following the mess at Fukushima? Have you been following the reports of dead, dying, or missing sea creatures washing up on beaches? Like the two rarely seen Oarfish and the Beaked Whale that washed up in California not too many weeks ago?
Do you ever wonder about what is going to happen if the Pacific Ocean becomes too contaminated to support life?
History has taught us nothing apparently.
The Marshall Islands. Mercury, Nevada.
Both of these are nuclear testing grounds.
They are still cleaning up both places. There are still people from the Marshall Islands who cannot return home, that we are still shipping food and supplies to, fifty some years later.
There is a website for cancer victims of the Nevada test site.
Today, on page eleventy two of the news, behind the wonderful news of Bookface changing the way the "like and share" buttons look, and Twit-turds great opening day stock sales, there was an article about a Japanese law maker breaking the protocol of how to address the emperor, by handing him a hand written note addressing his concerns about what is happening with the nuclear power plant in Fukushima. At one time that act would have likely cost him his life, but thankfully the Japanese are no longer as brutal with their punishment, so he will likely be forced to resign, or at the very least suspended, instead of being killed.
Why would a newly elected career person piss away all his hard work to try to address this issue to the one person whose word is law?
I'm thinking it is a lot worse than anything we are being told.
I think I am done with the news reading for the day. I am gonna go stick my head in the sand, because honestly that is about all I can do about it today.
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9
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Guess I'm Not Supposed To
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Posted:Nov 6, 2013 1:05 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2013 12:54 pm
10891 Views
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I just wrote a blog, started to post it, hit the wrong key...and erased the whole fucking thing.
And I am out of time to re-write it.
Well, maybe later or tomorrow I can find the time for a do-over.
FUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK!
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8
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A No News Day
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Posted:Oct 31, 2013 10:57 am
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2013 12:54 pm
11235 Views
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Ever the eternal optimist, I went with the morning news routine this morning. Yewho news is probably the most trifling news reporting on the whole wide web. It is more like reading the copy for Entertainment Tonight, they have an aversion to actual news reporting.
But after clicking on this article and reading it, I again find myself wondering how the hell we have gotten this completely illogical and are still able to survive.
There is a city in California that is suing a hot sauce company that has been in the city for over two years for stinking up the air for a ?few weeks a year? (The way it is written is misleading, so I am not sure if this is a constant stench or if it is only for a few weeks during harvest time.) And there are people up in ARMS over this. They are willing to risk losing yet more jobs for their city because the smell of peppers and garlic gets a little strong.
Fuck, ya'll, cut the lace off your panties and grow a fucking pair. You want to throw away jobs because you don't like a smell? How the fuck is that even remotely logical with the whole financial deck of cards getting ready to fold? If you are severely allergic, yeah it might be a problem. The simple solution to that is moving out of Los Angles all together, the air quality there is not worth a damn for people with allergies anyways, if what I read is true.
They can bring that shit right on to the Midwest. The wind blows strong here. Besides, if we can stand the stench of chemicals and plastics and insecticides....to infinity? We can take the pepper smell no problem. I know a lot of people who would be tickled to death to find a job right now.
Because in reality, sure it stinks, but the sound of playing in their own yards with full tummies outweighs a little stink.
I can think of a lot of things that stink worse than hot sauce ingredients.
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To link to this blog (wildnwanton) use [blog wildnwanton] in your messages.
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