Thumbs DOWN for today.

Total flippin' thumbs down for today. I got bit by a dog. Hence my thumb pic. Please note the band aid. Got me this here band aid and the urging of friends and family to go get another tetanus shot since I can't recall when I did last. My neighbor came to the open house I was working on and brought me licorice and iodine to help aid me in my recovery. She so nice.

So anyway, Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck it Sunday. You can totally bite me. Hell, a dog already did.

I tried changing the tone of this picture to be a rose colored glasses kinda pic. But really people. Fuck that. A small little dog bit my thumb. I wanted to kick it. I should have. Nothing rosey about that.

I look at it as karma. One of my bitches bit someone once too. I was horrified. She did a lot more damage than this little lap dog did.

All in all though - total thumbs down. My boy is gonna take me to Ikea for a 99 cent cinnamon roll. Nothing like feeding your pain with food. Very health. Very American. And hell, I am patriotic. Need to keep up with my fat fellow Americans. That way, if it ever comes to ANOTHER unnecessary war (ahem) if we don't have enough military - we fat civilians can SIT on our enemy. TAKE THAT!

Anyway, poor me. Poor thumb. My hitch hiking career is over. Kaput. Finished. So sad.

MADD

As most Americans know MADD stands for Mothers Against Drunk Driving. Over the last year I have become heavily involved volunteering for this group. It has taken me over 5 years to get to that point. Nope, not a mutha. Not against drunks either. I am against stupid fuckers who think they can "handle it" and then slaughter other humans with their car. Happens everyday.

So I do public speaking for it regularly on something called a Victim Impact Panel. VIP for short. Yes, I am a victim. My brother was one of those that I feel was slaughtered by a stupid fucker who thought just because they weren't staggering and puking that he could drive. Apparently, in his condition he could kill too.

Yes, I am bitter. I have that right.

So at the panel, sometimes when I speak I am funny. Sometimes I cry. Tonight I wanted to spit nails I was so pissed off. I bring my brothers ashes with me when I go. It freaks people out. Good. Tonight I wanted to throw the urn at someone's face. But I must be polite and courteous when I speak. So I cannot release my frustration as well I could normally.

So now I will vent via the internet....

Fuck you, you sons of bitches. A DUI is not a funny right of passage. It is a sign you were lucky enough to not SLAUGHTER someone. That's all. Yes, when you take a car and use it not only to meander home but smash another human to smithereens, it is murder. MURDER. You may not INTENTIONALLY want to be a murderer, but in my eyes, you are none the less.

Fuck you. Yes YOU! Fuck you. Stupid fucker.

Ok. I feel better now. Sorry. I needed that.

A little Snoop Dog Translation

This may be old school to y'all.. but I found me a coolio site. Type in a URL and it will translate it all to Snoop Dog-a-licious style pimped out site.

Read one of my posts below first, then click this link to see how it changes dat shit.

Niiiice homey. Nice.

Poking the Tiger. It's GRRRRREAT!

Where in the hell is my checkbook!??? I can't find it. I know I didn't lose it. Just powerfully misplaced it. I had a case of the "Hey, why don't I put this HERE because I know I will never lose it" moments and now POOF - said checkbook has gone MIA. I have torn my house apart. To shreds actually. Zero. Zip. Nuthin. I am pissed. It may be wise if you recite this post aloud in a scream to get the full gist of my frustration. No, really. Scream.

In the midst of my scowering, my husband did something I warn him not to do when I am exasperated and angry as I am now in the hunt for mine book of checks.

He poked the tiger.

Nope, not THAT kinda poking you sicko. No kitties or salami were harmed in the making of THIS post. I mean the kind of poking you do at the zoo to a hungry and angry tiger who you think is all caged up, only to see the door is WIIIIDE open and you weren't as safe as you thought in your torment of one bloodthirsty tiger.

That was my hubby last night. He tried to poke the tiger. The last thing I remember was fear in his eyes. Then all went black. He's dead now. And I STILL don't have my checkbook.

I miss them both.

Ode to Vegas

Went to Vegas recently. Will be going again soon. A dear friend of mine that I refer to as Fire Pie or Sexpot - yes, I do not call her Kathy, that is soooooo not what I call her. Lucky girl is getting married there. That was were I wanted to get married. Didn't happen. Had the lame white dress (yeah, white - whatever) and the whole gamut of wedding hoopla that wasn't me. Wanted Elvis to perform it in a drive thru. Much more Anna Queen of Annaland like. So I am aLLLLLL excited about her wedding since it's totally my cup of tea.

Weddings are great parties cuz you get all your friends together to drink a shit load on someone else's dime. It will be near nirvana since this free drink fest will take place in Vegas.

Any way, Vegas, I love that fucking son of a bitch place more than I think I will love my first born. Luv it.

LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUV it.

People tell me that they don't have any fun in Vegas because they don't gamble. Who the fuck you think I am?! Kenny Fucking Rogers? I ain't the Gambler people. I have no idea when to hold 'em. When to fold 'em. When to walk away. Or when to run.

I DO know however that in Vegas, you can wander the streets screaming at the top of your lungs about how you are having a great time and some one, so help me God, some one will probably join you in a good old fashion howl-at-the-moon little moment. Then you will both go on your merry way.

See exhibit A.

Yes people. I have no idea who that guy is. This picture is over 10 years old. I am sure he has no idea I have posted it onto the internet. But this is WELL before the saying, "what happens in Vegas, STAYS in Vegas." So tough shit. Besides, I am pretty damn proud of it. Howling at the fucking moon with a stranger that is.

Next, in Vegas, you can meet your soul mate. Not in the "Let's go have sex" kinda way. But in the, "Hey, holy shit - there is someone just like me in the world."

Exhibit B. Meet my Brutha In Curls.... I have no clue who he is either, but we both have afro's and we bonded but for a second to pose for the little camera.... see?

Exhibit B.


Don't know who this guy is at all. All I know is that I saw him walking along the Strip one New Years night and told him we had to take a picture. He has curly hair. Makes him the fucking Pope.

Lastly, in Vegas, you can get to meet some pretty sweet and caring people. People who want to make you feel safe and respected and loved for who you are. Oh, who am I kidding? Here is a picture of me with a stripper....

Exhibit C.


So for all you uneducated who can't get what Vegas is REALLY about. It's not about the gambling. Noooo. Heavens no. Goodness no. That would be unwholesome.

It's about taking pictures with men that I don't know and will never speak to again. THAT my friend, is the true magic of Vegas baby.

I can't WAIT for Fire Pie's wedding.

My VD Note

I am not one for mushy Valentine's gifts. In fact, I would rather that if my husband was to do the whole silly flowers, candy and dinner romance thing that he do it un-expectedly like on a Wednesday evening for no better reason than he wanted to. Not because Hallmark and every jewerly store within earshot has pushed the V-Day thing down his throat.

So our V-Day was quiet. I didn't care. All I look forward to is a card. My man is AMAZING with the cards. He actually takes the time to really really hit the nail on the head with some nice sentiment or sumthin' . I keep all of the cards he gives me/makes for me.

So this Tuesday evening on said commercial holiday, my dear hubby comes home with a red enveloped card waiting for me in his sweaty palms. I take it.

Before we go on dear reader, it is important for you to know a couple of things.

1. I have naturally curly hair that my boy LUVS. But for the past few months I have been wearing it straight.
2. One time, years ago, dear husband told me that wearing my hair straight "brought out my face". He was not smiling when he said it. I took this as NOT a compliment and proceeded to pummle the son-of-a-gun. Yes, there was hell to pay - but we have moved on from that. Now, straight hair bringing out my face is a running joke in our household.

Now back to my story. I open the card and this is what is hand written below the standard "card text":

To My Straight Haired Anna

Yes, it's your face! Your face makes me smile. It makes me chuckle. It sometimes makes me laugh outloud. I wish you to know this Valentines Day that my love is all over you.... Especially your face.

I am a lucky, lucky woman.

Pure Joy

Went out for sushi last night. Was at a girlfriends house and I was talking to her and her husband about sushi and how I am cursed since my man does NOT like the stuff (he is mentally retarded) and how when we go out I never get to hit it with the raw fish.

So we were passing around fav sushi hot spots in the land of OC. I am a Sushi Island fan my self. They tend to love the Sushi Wave just 'round the corner. We all agree on Tsunami and Wasa and Ten (all sushi joints in the Land of Anna)... so I KNOW they are good people. Not a big deal to you I know - but trust me, understanding where someone stands on their sushi preferences says a lot about them and whether or not you can keep the friendship alive. If you both can't hang at the same place - you may as well shake hands and call it a friendship and walk away before someone gets hurt. It's bound to turn ugly.

Anyway, while chatting up a storm about the miracle food we all three start to get SUPER DUPER SUSHI HUNGRY and they dropped a magical bombshell on me. Bennihana - the lame ass Japanese restaurant chain actually has a FANTASTIC sushi bar and has ALL DAY specials on Saturday and Sunday. I could not believe my ears, the place that I secretly MOCK in my head when people say they went out for "Japanese food" at Bennihana. Bennihana does not serve Japanese food. They serve Japanese-like food. Trust me folks, it's like saying Chef Boyardee cans some authentic ravioli.... not so much.

Yesterday being Sunday and all - it was imperative that I test their claims out for myself. So we all schlepped the 2 excruciating minutes it takes to get to said food chain in the mythical land of Newport whilst visions of Unagi danced in my head....Once we arrived, I began my trip into pure bliss.

Oh, the bounty of this wonderful, secretive and magical place! Cheap too. GIANT handrolls were like 2 smackaroos... This means for 8 fucking dollars, 800 pennies, 80 dimes etc, I filled my gut up with some of the best sushi I have had since my visit to Japan. Not kidding you peeps. THAT good. Couldn't believe it.

I am a new woman. A new HUMAN for that matter. I now believe world peace is possible. We will stop global warming and I will have size C cups at some point in my life. The dreams in life CAN come true- and last night - was a step toward true zen bliss.

Namaste` people. I am at peace.

Effort!!!!! Muthr Effer....

Webster's Definition of Effort:

Pronunciation: 'e-f&rt, -"fort

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French, from Old French effort, from esforcier to force, from ex- + forcier to force

Definitions:
1 : conscious exertion of power : hard work
2 : a serious attempt : TRY
3 : something produced by exertion or trying
4 : effective force as distinguished from the possible resistance called into action by such a force
5 : the total work done to achieve a particular end

Today I realized - Most fucking people have no idea what effort means. Some peeps are just full of excuses. I am pretty much fed up with excuses. People have excuses for ALL kinds of shit. And trust me, there are many kinds of shit out there.

Example :
"I am sorry, my old man beat me last night and I have this limp - it's hard to get around."

OR

"I have been so busy I haven't been able to get my ass to the gym. But hey!? Did yousit around and watch Survivor, the Bachelor, Wife Swap and Oprah yesterday? I did."

OR

"I tried doing what you recommended regarding my generic problem (insert any issue here) - but it was hard and I didn't want to try too much because I may have succeeded and then I wouldn't have anything to complain about. That would frighten me because I like being a victim."

That one is my favorite.

So few really understand the concept of effort I really wanted to "get the word out" and help my fellow man/woman/ape/poodle/goldfish/amoebae-kind. At first I thought posting it to my blog may help. But I realized mid-way through doing so that it would take effort for someone to actually get to my blog to learn a thing or two. SO, (sigh) fuck them. But I couldn't STOP my typing to my post once I realized it. That would show a lack of effort on MY part - and that would just be hypocritical.

We wouldn't want that now would we? I didn't think so.

Oh, also, I hate people. People are dumb.

The End.