one hell of a contest!, part 2

To all those who are thinking about participating in the contest, I have thought of a wicked cool (how New England did I just sound?!) prize to give away! The only thing is, I have to order it online and I won't do it or even have the contest unless I can get at least 4-5 people to participate.

So if you care to try your hand at writing some lyrics, which I'm really hoping you will because this could be really fun, here are the rules:

1. The title is the same for everyone, "Serial Killer Eyes". The song must be based on my neighbor's evil son.

2. You must write at least two versus and one chorus. You can write more if you'd like but that's the minimum.

3. The deadline is Friday, August 15th.


Since I don't have an Email address posted on my blog, please post your entries to the comments section. I will not publish everyone's lyrics to my blog 'til after the contest. This will prevent "idea sharing" among the participants!

Seriously consider participating! The prize I have in mind is the awesomest! So much so that I'm also ordering one for myself regardless if y'all participate or not!!

one hell of a contest!

Well, Random Chick said she comes to Chez Jezebel's for the bitching, so let the bitching commence!

I like my neighbors across the street from me. Well, not all of them but the mother, while a bit on the ditzy side, is pretty cool. They have three boys, two of which are nice enough. Many of you who've been reading my blog for awhile know how intolerant I've been of other peoples' children in recent years so for me to say that I think these two boys are okay, really means progress for me! Of course that doesn't mean that I like them all the time!

The third one, well, I can't put my finger on it but let's just say if you ever wondered about who Satan really was, I'm pretty convinced he's the fiery red-haired, freckle-faced nearly nine year old boy living across the street from me. Some of you may remember that I've blogged about him before. Simply put, this kid really scares the shit outta' me!

For instance, this child laughs at death every day. On most days, he and his brothers play in their driveway. I don't know exactly what they're doing, but they always seem busy. Probably plotting their next evil-doing. He will stay on the driveway but the second he sees a car coming down the street, he will quickly hop on his skateboard or his scooter and race across the street at almost the precise moment that the car is at his driveway. One of the big problems we have in our subdivision is that very few people follow the 25 mph speed limit so usually, they're flying down our street. This kid is tiny for his age so most people don't see him shooting across their path until they have to come to a screetching hault! Surprisingly, no one ever says anything to him except his mother, who screams at him while he's laughing at her and she just shakes her head in disgust. If she doesn't get control of him soon, she'll have a heart attack way before she reaches her Golden years and he won't reach adulthood.

There's something really twisted about a kid with a permanent, mischievous grin on his face who gets off at scaring the bejeebus out of people. The look in his eyes tells a story. Like he has a secret. Or he's just killed someone's cat. Or his grandmother didn't move away as everyone thought but her rotting corpse is really hidden in his upstairs closet. It's hard to tell when this kid always has some freaked-out smirk on his face. I'm telling you, that flicker in his eyes of torture, torment and mayhem just shouldn't be there!

The worst part about it is that he likes playing over here with my kids. It creeps me out whenever I see him because I've never seen a frown on his face. Always that scary, perma-grin.

Several years ago, I had the entire exterior of my house painted from trim to garage. It's a heavy-duty exterior paint that has a 25-year warranty on it. The other day I was taking Schwartz out and I noticed that there are several spots of peeling paint on the garage door. I couldn't quite figure it out. Until yesterday.

I was inside the house folding a buttload of laundry when I kept hearing banging coming from the outside. Since I knew both my kids were in our driveway playing, I thought that maybe they were hitting tennis balls against the garage door but I was wrong. This devil child was literally running, jumping, lifting off and hurling himself repeatedly against my garage door, hitting the same spots over and over again.

It was very peaceful around the neighborhood with them gone this summer. The three kids go to overnight camp for three weeks and while they're there, their parents go to their summer house in the mountains. I don't know how long they've been back, but this kid must have been working on fucking up my garage door long before they left for their summer vacation!

There's a reason I'm telling you all this...

As the title of this post reveals, I'm holding a contest. Tell all your blogging and non-blogging friends 'cause this one is gonna' be a challenge!

I want y'all to try to write a song to the tune of Kim Carnes' "Bette Davis Eyes". The title will be "Serial Killer Eyes".

I haven't thought of a prize yet but it will be devilishly good! Good luck!

here's the deal, part 2

I feel like an apology and an explanation is in order to those who read my blog. Except for those who don't like me 'cause I don't apologize to haters! Something tells me that you nasty people out there would be just as happy sitting on your thumbs and rotating so have at it!

In general, I absolutely despise drama and try to stay as far away from it as possible. Sometimes I tend to get sucked into the happenings of other bloggers and that kinda' sucks - that it's happening to them and that I get sucked in! I can't stand it when it happens in my own life because I have trouble grasping WTF is going on! For those of you who are fairly new to reading my blog, please refer back to the 'room mama drama' posts that began in October 2007 and you'll understand what I mean! Or the person who shall not be mentioned here, now those are some 'good' ones, as well!

I was really naive when I first started blogging several years ago. I was completely unaware how many mean people were roaming the blogosphere. Those that get off at being nasty just for the sake of being nasty...really now, what's the point? Despite the bitchy persona I display here, I'm not someone who deserves the shit that I've had to put up with. I've never started shit with people online but I will and always defend myself no matter how mean I feel I have to take it to get my point across.

I've come a long way since I wrote my first post and I've learned a great deal about how, despite Rodney King's plea, we just can't all get along! But that doesn't give anyone the right to exhibit such rude behavior on another person's blog.

I try to entertain as much as possible. Sometimes it's humorous, sometimes it's not. Some get me and others don't. People come and go from all our blogs. We all have drama in our lives and sometimes we talk about it. I can appreciate a healthy debate any time with other bloggers, what I won't and don't deal with are those that get off on causing problems. And if that means my not posting what they've written, that's what it means.

Some of you have expressed on here and in private that you don't believe in monitoring comments and that's cool. To each his own. Frankly, I think there's more things to worry about in this world than to worry about what other bloggers do or don't do. Because of my past blogging experiences with some really hateful people, I've chosen not to allow my blog to be the stomping grounds to those with anger issues or other psychological problems. We all blog for different reasons and we shouldn't have to feel violated because certain people lack self-control. It's okay to express what's on your minds, it's another to be a motherfucker in doing so!

With all that being said, you may see this post published again from time-to-time to remind those punanis out there who've found my blog that their negative behavior will not be welcome here. Just giving y'all fair warning!

here's the deal...

Before the bitching ensues, I just want to say that I hope everyone had a great day! I had a very long one. My kids had to get their annual well-visit at the doctors this afternoon and it turned into a two-hour event! Nothing really exciting happened, it was just crowded with some back-to-schoolers (some schools here start the first week in August), and it took longer than expected. We got home about 45 minutes ago to find that a major fire had occurred right around the corner from our house in the subdivision, tons of ambulances and fire vehicles were on the scene and I feel very bad for the victims, whom I know. So aside from all that and being on yet another tornado watch 'til sometime tonight (grrrr), I'm a bit worn out!

Now, onto business...

Let me just say this, if you don't like my blog, no one's keeping you here. Don't keep coming around and don't keep commenting 'cause I'm not interested. If you come here just to be a fucking asshole, don't bother. Like I've said before, I don't deal with shitty attitudes in real life and I won't deal with them here either. There are some of you who visit who will never have your comments published. NEVER. I've dealt with some of you and your nastiness on a more personal level from past blogs and I am not interested in any of you or what you have to say. What I do with my blog is my business, stay the fuck out of it.

For those of you who do enjoy visiting my blog, please continue to do so. I am always thankful for those who find my blog entertaining! For those of you who regularly visit and/or comment, thank you! I really enjoy hearing your perspective on things and many of you make me smile on a daily basis with your witty comments and insight. For the lurkers who visit me, and there seem to be quite a few of you out there, please don't be scared about commenting. I love hearing from all sorts of people, just not the fucking bitches and assholes in the blogosphere. If these few people weren't such douche bags, I wouldn't mind hearing their opinions as well. To those bitches, remember, there are nice ways of expressing yourselves. Try it sometime.

To everyone else, stay cool.

get out your party hats

Yesterday morning, my dad called me to tell me he had killed two birds with one stone and passed gas and pooped at the same time. Yeah, thanks for telling me, Dad! And right before breakfast!

You may be wondering (or not!) why I'm telling y'all this but it actually is cause to celebrate!

About a month ago, my father had some pain in his pelvic region. Being a stubborn man (I know, a bit redundant), he refused to go see a doctor. He was certain it was something else. When the pain wouldn't subside, he finally and reluctantly went to the doctor, had a Cat scan and found out that he had an abscess in his intestines.

He was immediately put on strong antibiotics to help get rid of the infection and on a bland diet of bread, broth, cheese, no salts or spices or anything else that would cause his Diverticulitis to flair up anymore than it already had. My dad was diagnosed with Diverticulitis many years ago but my father has always listened to his stomach rather than his doctors and has always eaten whatever he's wanted.

The doctor informed him at that time that he was going to have to have surgery, no questions asked. First they were going to [hopefully] drain the abscess and then have the surgery to resection his bowel. The abscess was successfully drained, even more antibiotics followed and then the day before the surgery, he had to have a Colonoscopy to make sure there were no other infected areas.

This was serious shit (no pun intended)! No one in my family has ever had major surgery like this!

The four hour surgery, which took place last Wednesday, was much more difficult than expected. It consisted of removing his Sigmoid Colon, his Appendix (which wasn't originally planned) and they had to resection quite a bit of his small intestines. There was much more infection than originally thought.

Then there was the 2-3 day waiting period to see if any further infection would develop. If so, a colostomy bag would have to be inserted. Everyone kept their fingers crossed. Time passed. Three days later and thankfully, still no infection. Saturday morning he had some liquids, his first liquids since Tuesday night! He tolerated them well. Sunday morning he had liquids and Jell-O. And then...success! He did his bu'ness! And of course, being the proud man that he is, he had to call everyone to share the happy news!

And today, he's going home.

The surgeon has been quite pleased with my dad's progress. Knowing that elderly people tend to take longer to recover from illnesses, wounds, etc., I'm quite surprised that my father, who turned 70 in May, has bounced back so quickly from such major surgery with little discomfort! I know he still has a long road ahead of him but I'm really rather amazed!

So please, keep my father in your thoughts and prayers for a continued speedy recovery!

signed, anonymous

This is a prime example of what's so great about moderating comments.

When some douchebag comments on my blog, I make the choice whether I publish or reject it. And while I'm mentioning the word 'reject', this perfectly describes the people in the blogosphere who comment on others' blogs and are too pussy to identify themselves.

This describes well the recent troll to hit my blog. While I didn't give the person the satisfaction of publishing it to my comments section, I will publish it here for y'all. This person doesn't need a name to prove him/herself total fucking twat leakage.

You went to all that trouble because someone sent you a text after one lousy coffee date? You need SERIOUS help. Seek therapy! NOW!!! Don't delay.

Allow me to break things down for this brain damaged loser...

No dipshit, I didn't go to any trouble whatsoever. If you had cleaned the shit out of your eyes and actually read what I wrote in that post, I said a friend Photoshopped the photo. I actually didn't even ask him to do it, I told him the story, showed him the picture and he took it upon himself to tweak it. But I can understand why you'd be so upset about it since you're probably the dicksucker sucking the guy off in the picture.

Who said it was a coffee date?? Do you know something I don't? Hey, I know something you don't! You're an ass muncher. Have you finger-fucked your mother lately?

As for the suggestion of therapy, you first. Anyone who feels it necessary to comment in such a way on a stranger's blog has serious social issues among numerous psychological problems. Walk, no, run immediately to the nearest neurosurgeon for a labotomy (although I'm not sure that will help with your stupidity).

Apparently, this person, and I use the term loosely, didn't take notice that I have several forms on my blog of being able to identify the people who visit and comment. Which means I have your IP address. And I know how to use it. Just sayin'.

another reason to hate reality TV

Nanny 911.

I've been seeing the TV advertisements for this season's Nanny 911 and as I was flipping through the channels on Thursday night, I saw that they were having a marathon of past shows so I decided to watch it. HUGE mistake.

I absolutely adored the nanny, a cross between Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee. She was a British woman who really knew her shit. She was calm, cool and collected around these impossible children. I was in awe of her self-control.

The family? I wanted to drop-kick all but one of them off Mt. Hood.

The mother was a wuss. In order to maintain her sanity, she did very little to discipline her children when they acted out. She had a three year old boy who threw a holy hairy tantrum whenever he didn't get his way and an older boy, probably around seven, who was a total piece of shit and deserved to die. He talked, no, yelled back at everyone, and was filmed hitting not only his brother numerous times but also his mother. The middle child, a daughter, never uttered a word and the few times that she did, she was the voice of reason. To get away from the kids, the mother spent more time in the kitchen fixing gourmet meals than actually spending time with them!

The father was this undermining asshole. Whatever the mother said to her children, he'd be right there to tell the kids the complete opposite. Every. Time. It made me grit my teeth in anger. It made my blood boil. I'm surprised I didn't get a migraine! And because he constantly undermined his wife instead of supported her, the children had zero respect for their mom and wouldn't listen to her. At all. Thank God for Nanny Mary P. McPhee who ripped him a new one in front of the wife and shamed him on national TV. Shame isn't the only thing he should have felt. The back of my hand thrashing back and forth across his face probably would have been good, too.

Somehow, the downright awful behavior exhibited by the eldest child was interpreted by the nanny as someone who wasn't having his emotional needs met. At first I thought she was nuts and that all this kid needed was a good spanking (even though I'm not an advocate for spanking!), and ya' know what? In the end she was totally right. While the mother and kids were trying to bake something, the older kid pitched another one of his infamous fits because of something his younger brother was trying to do, he ran away from his siblings and his mother, screaming that his younger brother was spoiled and the nanny managed to get out of him that he was jealous of all the time the mother spent with the younger child and not with him and how she didn't show him enough love. And that little episode he had, surprisingly enough, not only improved his behavior by leaps and bounds but the mother gained some inner strength and was suddenly able to be a strong person and loving mother.

And the father...one of the last scenes was the family sitting at the dinner table, everyone behaving themselves, and suddenly the older boy decided he was going to test his limits again by pitching food across the table at his mother. The mother gave him a warning, he continued to act like a little shit and the father told him to excuse himself from the table, that he was done dinner. The boy knew he had fucked up, got up when told and went to his room, no fit thrown. The nanny, who was always nearby observing the goings on, seemed very pleased with the results.

Now I know this is supposed to be a week in the life of a family but c'mon! I find it so hard to believe that children who've thought they were in charge of the family, having had little to no discipline up to that point, are going to change their evil ways in one week's time.

As far as my opinion on all this goes, I just have to say that even though I'm looked at sometimes by my kids as the 'bad cop', I'm so thankful that I've raised them and continue to raise them with structure and proper discipline. I really cannot stand when I see kids who are never supervised and thinking that they are in charge.

Your thoughts?

* SSDD - same shit, different day

My daughter had cooking camp all this week. Today was the last day so what better way to finish off the week with a cooking competition?!

The first part of the competition was loosely based on the Food Network's Iron Chef series. There were three groups of three and each group had to decide on a dish to cook. Two groups chose a dessert, my daughter's group chose to make a very yummy lasagna.

There were four judges. One was a former student of the school, two were a husband and wife who own a local restaurant and the last was their executive chef. They asked questions, tasted the food and awarded points to each team.

The second part of the competition was based on the Food Network's challenges. If you've never seen these challenges, they range in elaborate cake or candy decoration to cook-offs from top chefs and bakers all across the country, usually with some sort of theme to follow. Each team created a structure made out of a variety of sweets and then created a story about it and why and how they chose to create it.

My daughter's team won! The prize was having their teacher, a teacher at their school and a graduate of the College of Culinary Arts at Johnson & Wales University, come to their house and help make dinner for their family! Talk about my daughter and her group being excited!

* The competition wasn't five minutes from being over when the person who shall not be mentioned here approached me to ask "Which house will he come to?". WTF?!

First of all, unlike him, I don't give a flying fuck whose house her teacher comes to because at least I recognize that it's about my daughter and her prize and not a fucking meal! Of course I would love to get some photos of the two cooking in my kitchen but if I don't, BFD!!

I'm sure he will persuade her to cook at his house and that's fine 'cause I realize the tantrum he may throw if he doesn't get his way. Again. Someone please tell me when this fucking drama will end???????!

The only other thing that made my day was that my son turned 11 today! YAY him!! And YAY to my daughter, my future personal chef!!

your thoughts are wanted

I wanted to change my tune for a minute. I don't usually discuss current events on this blog, but I wanted to hear everyone's opinions on this topic.

It's not often that I watch the news. Most of the stories are rather negative and depressing. For some reason though, I chose to turn it on as background noise today and this is what I saw...

A woman in Georgia, jilted by her fiance, sued him and won.

Now, before any of you get your panties in a bunch, there's more to this story.

He asked her to leave her home in Florida and her $80K/year job to move to his home in Georgia. Then, this POS man, broke off their engagement two days before their wedding by leaving her a note in the bathroom one morning with a check for $5,000, I suppose thinking that would make up for him being a total loser.

She sued his sorry ass for $150,000 and she won. BOO HA on former fiance!

Y'all know how I feel about revenge so I think you can tell whose side I'm on here!

Of course I don't think that every jilted person, man or woman, should be allowed to sue their former whatever whenever they feel slighted in some way. No, there are even better ways to seek revenge on people.

Take this guy for instance.

Cute enough, right? He was someone whom I connected with on a dating site and even though he was considerably younger than I, I thought I'd give it a go. Our first date went great. We were supposed to go out again until he canceled on me. By text message.

Did I rip him a new one ten times over?! You bet your ass I did! Did I contact a lawyer the very next minute to sue his ass? Nooooooooo. I did one better.

I had a friend Photoshop his photo to look like this.

Then I plastered it all over the Internet. Today will be the second time I've done so.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - revenge is sweet, people! Sweeter. Than. Fucking. Candy. *snicker*

this would wake anyone from a deep sleep

I had another one of my fucked up dreams last night. Remember, this is where all your smarty pants with dream interpretation skills come in!

A supermarket was going out of business and was holding an incredible sale. As I was shopping, I spotted a large container with what looked like dollar bills inside on a shelf. It seemed like the cashier was trying to hide it from view. I inquired about it and my initial impression was correct, that he was trying to hide it because he wanted it and it was money. In fact, it only cost 90 cents for a container full of bills worth $50.

Did I mention that the money was floating in oil?!

Hey, I told you my dream was weird!

But this wasn't the only money container. As I looked closer, other containers, some smaller some larger, were stacked around the shelves, strategically hidden so that customers wouldn't notice them. Oh but Eagle-eye me, I spotted each and every one of them and they couldn't stop me from buying up the lot!

So here I am, little rich bitch and...I fucking woke up! Something reminded me that one of my cats was still in my daughter's room and I had to get him out in case, at some point, he wanted out. When that happens, he tends to make a racket.

Anyone care to try your hand at this?!

she likes me! she really likes me!

Tug is da bomb! She recognized my photo blog with an artistic award! I knew she liked me but now I think she's expecting sexual favors for this. *wink*

The rules are that I have to acknowledge a few people for making this award possible so here I go, a little linkie love...

First to Tug...again...who shamelessly plugged my photo blog and gave me some fancy shmancy award too!

Then to the Arte Y Pico blog, the originator of this award, for whom if I could read and understand Spanish, my linking to it would mean probably so much more than it actually does!

I will be attempting to post the award on my photo blog but since my sidebar is majorly screwed up and is actually a bottombar, that may not be possible.

just call me Nancy fucking Drew

You guys just won't believe this one.

I'm afraid The Landscaper Chronicles is far from over.

The other morning when I went to take out Schwartz, there was a huge mound of shit on one section of my lawn. It just so happens, this massive turd was right in my path and had it not been light out, I would have stepped right in it. As I think back on it, I suppose that was the plan.

For several days now, the thought of this heap of shit on my lawn has been gnawing at me. There are only a few people on my street that own a dog and none of them keep their dogs outside at night. After walking Schwartz these past few days and seeing various dog shit scattered throughout the neighborhood, it dawned on me this morning...

This wasn't dog shit. This was human shit!

Now some of you seasoned dog owners may tell me otherwise but I've never seen Schwartz, or any other dog for that matter, take a poop like this. Sorry to go into so much detail, but the dog poop I've always seen comes out in segments, not in one long, winding crap like what's on my lawn.

And then I came to yet another realization...

This shit has been on my lawn since this past Tuesday/Wednesday, when my landscaper wrote his response to the Better Business Bureau.

My neighbor directly across the street from me once hired Chuck to give his yard a quick mow because he hadn't been able to do it in awhile. So I approached him yesterday morning, told him the story of what happened between Chuck and myself, asked him if he'd seen him in the neighborhood lately and do you know what his response was?

"Yeah, come to think of it, I did see him the other night! I came home late from a business dinner and was wondering why his truck was parked outside."

*blank stare*

If other people on my street hired him as their landscaper, it wouldn't have been a surprise to see him on my street. But to recognize a landscaper or his vehicle after dark is a tad on the strange side, yes?!

I knew Chuck didn't have much brains to begin with but this is just fucking ridiculous! Although the only physical proof I have that he paid me a visit is the actual shit still on my lawn and an eyewitness account to his truck being in the vicinity, it's not like I can call up the police and press charges against him for defecating on my property! Which, trust me, I would love to do right about now!

Could you imagine how this would play out in court?!

Prosecutor: Ms. Jezebel, could you please show the court who shit on your grass?
*Jezebel points to a smiling Chuck who's picking his rotted-out teeth with a sling blade*

Prosecutor: Your Honor, I'd like to submit into evidence the piece of petrified human feces taken from Ms. Jezebel's property.
*members of the jury gagging at the sight of human crap in a plastic bag*

As I've said before people, revenge is sweet. I may not have photographic proof that this man squatted on my grass but I am going to be writing up a very sweet profile about him on Angie's List including the latest happening and contacting the INS about his illegal alien employees.

So Chuck dear, you keep on fertilizing my lawn 'cause I'm gonna' be taking a huge hairy shit on what's left of your business!

ew tube

Can someone please explain to me the fascination some people have with You Tube?!

I can count on one hand how many times I've viewed a video on that site, yet I know people who frequent that site daily. Honestly, where do people find the time? I barely have time to wipe myself after I pee, how can someone sit there day after day and watch that bullshit?

When I was searching for a digital camera, there were digital cameras there that advertised that they were You Tube-ready. Why??! And really, WTF does that mean, You Tube-ready??! I would think there are more important things in this world to occupy our time and thoughts like world peace, poverty issues, my vagina, war in the middle east and rising gas prices, just to name a few.

Even if I didn't have dial-up and it didn't take two hours for one of those stupid videos to load, I still wouldn't watch them! In fact, whenever I'm reading someone's blog and they reference a You Tube link or have a video posted on their post, I pass it by. The interest just isn't there.

I think we should Younite against Ew Tube! Who's with me?????!


NOTE: This post in no way is to offend Random Chick who posted several home videos on her post! I swear, I wrote this before I read her blog!

a haunting

Yesterday afternoon, while my kids were waiting for their dad to pick them up, we heard my daughter's bedroom door close. Funny thing was, it had already been closed. I had both kids check out their rooms. That's right, if their rooms are haunted, let them be scared outta' their minds! Just because I pay the mortgage on this house doesn't make it my problem if there's a ghost hiding out in their rooms!

This kind of trauma comes from when I was a child. My sister and I would be out with our mom and we'd come home to find the front door slightly ajar. We knew right then that my father was hiding somewhere in the house, ready to jump out and scare the poo out of us. My father was totally sick on how he got off on scaring us!

My sister and I would wait by the door and would send our mother in. My mother, that poor brave woman! No wonder she has to wear a hairpiece now, she probably lost all her hair from when my dad would jump out at her! Anyway, we'd wait until we heard my mom's blood-curdling screams and we knew it was okay to go inside!

We arrived home yesterday afternoon for me to discover that I had left the front door unlocked. I've done this before, too many times to count, and so far we've been lucky in not having someone come in and clean us out. Then we heard one of the bedroom doors slam and I thought "Fuck! Someone's in the house and hiding in one of their rooms!". Yet I still sent the kids along their merry way to go check out the noise themselves while I sat in our family room watching a program! What kind of mother am I?!??!

For about a year now, I've periodically heard noises coming from my attic. I can tell one noise is a squirrel scrambling from a tree close to my house onto my roof. It's such a clear noise, I had to have a roofer get up on my room one time to find the hole the squirrel was climbing into but he said my roof was in good condition, no holes to be found. The other noise I hear are definite footsteps. After seeing both the Japanese and American versions of The Ring, I can honestly tell you that I am not going up there to check it out! No fucking way! For those of you who've seen one or both of those films, you know exactly what I'm talking about! I am not the stupid bimbo who in a scary slasher film, would go upstairs instead of out the fucking front door! I am not going to go exploring even with the largest dagger I can get my hands on! Nuh uh, no way, no how!!

The ironic thing about this is that I absolutely adore ghost hunting! I live in the most haunted city in America where I've seen blown-out candles rekindle themselves and shadows moving about in a haunted restaurant. I've been in houses here where I've experienced the craziest paranormal shit you could ever imagine! Of course, if I saw a full-body apparition or someone else's face staring back at me in a mirror, I'd shit a concrete block right then and there!

If any of you who read this blog are brave enough to go into my creepy attic, I will reward you with hot lesbian monkey sex! That's right, you'll have to watch two female chimps goin' at it. *wink*

he's baaaaaaaaaack!!

Captain Fucknuts Von Ahole aka the former landscaper, actually responded to my Better Business Bureau complaint I filed last month. Eight days past the deadline of which he was supposed to respond by, but nevertheless, he responded...

I provided landscape maintenance services for this customer for over 6 years at her current residence. She is no longer wishing for my company to perform such services, and therefore (I assume) has hired another service provider. Problem resolved!

Yes, it took him three and a half weeks to come up with that! I'm surprised he didn't end his message with "your welcome". And for those of you who are screaming at me right now that it's spelled you're, as the daughter of a former English teacher, I'm aware of that but I'm just writing it as this uneducated loser would!

The BBB gives the option to accept or not accept the response given by the company. I'm sure you can figure out which option I chose...

Just like the less than satisfactory "service" this "landscaper" provided for the nearly NINE (9) years (the "landscaper's" inability to keep track of the length of time providing "service" to his customers proves even more his lack of care and concern for the people who support his business), comes a less than satisfactory response from him. Not surprising since I learned the hard way that his people skills leave nothing to be desired. In his response, he neglected to address the true problem which was his very unprofessional and unacceptable behavior directed towards me when I simply explained to him why he was being terminated. On Tuesday, July 15, 2008, his response regarding my complaint clearly shows his true immature nature, his lack of appreciation for his customers and how unprofessional he truly is.

I would like to say that this situation is dead and buried but the saga continues elsewhere here in town. This man just continues to burn his bridges wherever he goes.

Since all this madness started, I've told as many people as I can remember referring him to my story and they are all pretty shocked by his behavior. Of course I let people make up their own minds where he's concerned, I'm just pleased that I've gotten the word out there and I know it's affecting his business. How do I know this? If you think I'm a bitch, listen to this story!

I told an acquaintance about him who used his services. She works out of her home so when she heard his equipment start up one day a few weeks ago, she bolted outside and told him to stop. She asked that he and his men to remove their equipment from her property, that she was terminating his services effective immediately. When he inquired what happened in a rather rude way, as she explained to me, she told him she thought he was an asshole! Nothing more, nothing less! He must have known almost immediately that she was referring to my situation. You would have thought that he'd learn his lesson from what he experienced with me but noooooooo, he called her a "fucking cunt" and stormed off. Needless to say, when she returned to her desk, she immediately filed an online complaint against him with the BBB. I guess some people just never learn from their mistakes.

I would like to say that The Landscaper Chronicles is over and done with but I think I've only touched the tip of the iceberg. Of course now, I happen to see him all over town and I'm hearing little stories from friends of mine about their interactions with him...like a guy friend who doesn't use his services but passed him one day on the street, called out his name and when Chuck turned to look at him, he flipped him off! *snicker*

Ya' know, sometimes being a bitch really pays off!! *wink*

an award winning night

Last night was the swim team banquet. My daughter walked away with beaucoup amounts of certificates and ribbons and...(drum roll please) a trophy for Rookie of the Year! Niiiiiiiiiice!!

Before the banquet, there was the threat of rain. When we emerged from the banquet, it was like monsoon season. Which we had to walk in to get to the car. So we ran. And got soaked to the core anyway. We laughed as we shivered all the way home. Which was only five minutes. How many more incomplete sentences can I possibly write?! *snicker*

The kids decided they were too doped on sugar from the fruit punch, cake and ice cream and had to stay up 'til 11. That's all fine and good since they have nothing special to do in the mornings this week, but what about their poor old mom who's bedtime is no later than 9pm??! It was a struggle to keep my eyes open, I'll tell you, but they were happy to stay up as late as they possibly could!

Two of my son's friends from his overnight camp, one of which was a girl, called yesterday. Apparently this girl, an older woman like his girlfriend here, likes my son. Now he's got two girlfriends, one in every port! Nearly 11 years old and my son is already a playah!

Perhaps I shouldn't be so excited about this!

"we have it all worked out"

There's just one thing I'd really like to know...

WTF is wrong with my family??!

Once every summer, the kids and I travel to visit my family. This summer was all planned out months ago but unexpectedly, my father has to go in for surgery and it might happen at the exact time that our trip is planned.

I keep telling my mom that we probably shouldn't come. That our visit will inconvenience my dad trying to recover at home. So my mom says to me today on the phone "We have it all worked out.".

I asked her who was 'we' and what did they have planned out?

Again, "We have it all planned out.". Um, I think I heard an echo.

Apparently, she and my sister have once again overstepped their bounds and have decided that should my father be out of surgery and recovering at home at the time of our visit, my kids and I will be expected to stay in one of the rented suites in their condo building. Me and two kids sharing two double beds. I have three words for them - FUCK THAT SHIT.

Both my kids and I are all restless sleepers. There have been countless times where I've tried sharing a bed with either kid, and I end up getting kicked, smacked and once, even a toe up my ass. Seriously. I'm traumatized from it. I sleep like shit as it is, I'm not spending an entire week of sleepless nights just so that my sister and my parents won't feel cramped by our presence in my parents' 3,000 square foot condo.

And why the fuck can't my sister stay in one of the suites? She could stay with one of my kids and help take care of him/her. But that's where the problem for her arises, because she's always loved spoiling them with stupid gifts, calling to talk to them twelve times in one week but when it's come to her helping me watch them, for instance, while I take a shower, it's unheard of!

I already know the answer. She's addicted to the computer and has to check her Email a gazillion times a day. She's also in bed and asleep by 8 pm and wakes up at 4:30 in the morning and I have to share a room with my kids every trip we make there so I think she could deal with it once in a fucking while!

I told my mom that I'm not sharing a bed with either child, neither child can share a bed with each other and in the future, no one is to make plans for us without asking me first.

Who the fuck do these people think they are???! Am I wrong to think that they are inconsiderate assholes? I don't drive eight fucking hours in a day so I can be bloodied and bruised by my kids all night! I love them but not that much!

yo bitches, i'm back!

And what's funny is, y'all never knew I was gone!

Wednesday afternoon, about an hour after my ex had picked up our daughter for a few hours, there was a ring at my bell and it was her step-mom dropping her back off at home! Her dad had been in a car accident.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, he was fine. He had come home from work for a few minutes that day to find his dog sick from drinking the pool water, went back to work and was able to take off early to take him to the vet. He was stopped at a light when some dick in an SUV plowed into him from behind. Can you say "bah bye Mercedes convertible!"?!

Luckily, my daughter wasn't interested in going with him so she was at his house waiting for him. THANK GOD.

Anyway, he was having some minor back discomfort and even though he was supposed to pick our son up from camp, I offered to go in his place so that he could take it easy. I was able to make some last minute hotel reservations and arrangements for Schwartz and my daughter and I went up yesterday, stayed overnight and then picked my son up this morning.

Frankly, I was glad to do it as my daughter and I were really missing my son/her brother. We knew that when we started calling the dog by my son's name two weeks ago, we were missing him!

So I'm home, sleep-deprived and ready to get back to blogging! I have a lot of blogs to read and some to add to my links so be patient with me, it'll get done!

Have a good weekend!

color me shirley maclaine

Everyone here knows that despite my kids' excessive arguing with each other, that I love them to death. But even I know my love for them has gaps. For instance, I can say that my son can be a total PITA when it comes to whining and complaining about everything under the sun and I can honestly say that up until a week ago, my daughter looked like she was having an epileptic seizure when trying to do the Butterfly stroke during swim practice. I can poke fun at them because they are my children. But if anyone else dares do it, prepare to die.

They are not perfect. Not by a long shot. However, last night, I believe I saw perfection. Or as close to perfection as a kid could possible get from doing the Butterfly stroke for the first time in competition.

Not only has my daughter slimmed down, shaped up and achieved wash-board abs and killer leg muscles in just six weeks time (bitch!), but she must have pulled off the best Butterfly stroke for a near-8 year old who's performed that stroke for the first time in competition history. I have never seen so many mouths left open in the wake of her performance. Even the head coach of her swim team was wide-eyed with surprise. Me? I was just in complete awe.

A week ago, my daughter was causing a tsunami in the pool just trying to move an inch in the water while trying to do the Butterfly stroke. She couldn't do the stroke to save her life and she was making all the other swimmers nauseous in the process. Last night, she took off from the starting block like her life depended on it and kept herself several arm-lengths ahead of the other girls she was competing against to take first place in her heat! And these were girls who've competed Butterfly before.

Last week, I had one of the swim team coaches give her lessons and in just four lessons, my daughter learned how to perform the stroke. During the lessons, she was permitted to use fins to help herself glide faster in the water and she told me that while she was swimming last night, she visualized herself with the fins on, moving fast, breathing hard and not stopping. Is she made for this sport, or what??!

For those of you who aren't all that familiar with the Butterfly stroke, it's probably the hardest stroke to do as you have to move your arms over your head and out of the water while doing a dolphin kick simultaneously. My daughter has always had a fascination for dolphins, collected dolphin pins or other objects associated with them, even being able to make vocal noises that sound exactly like their cryptic chirping and last night she said she as she was swimming, she felt like a dolphin in the water, jumping over the waves and feeling free.

Am I the only one who thinks that's totally fucked up?! I mean cool but nevertheless, fucked up!

Now you know I love my daughter but when she starts connecting with dolphins like she was one in a past life, I start to worry a bit!

I've seen some things during my life to make me a believer in past lives. I've even said, in a joking-but-non-joking way, that in my next life I want to come back as a domesticated house cat because all they have to do is eat, sleep, play and poop. But my daughter as a dolphin?? I guess anything is possible but trying to imagine my daughter as Flipper is just kinda' strange, ya' know??!

Speaking of strange, the person who shall not be mentioned here strikes again!

Not only did he show up late to my daughter's meet and try to ask me if she was racing in the first event as the first event was taking place and she was swimming it, but he tried to ask me not once but, annoyingly enough, several times while in passing as I was shuttling some kids off to their respective lanes for upcoming events and as I was repeating "I can't talk to you now.". Then if he couldn't be enough of a rude dick, he shouted after me and did so with a smile on his face as if he thought people other than himself would actually find him amusing "You just did.". If I didn't like these swim meets so much, I would have pushed him into the pool and jumped in after him just to hold his head under water.

Then, as his daughter was racing, he reclined in a lounge chair while exhibiting his usual socializing-while-he-should-be-paying-attention-to-his-daughter routine and missed every race she swam in plus, he left before she swam her most prized race, the Butterfly. If I cared enough about this POS, I would be steaming mad right about now but instead, I just feel so sorry for someone who is missing out on so much.

Although I can describe him in many ways, I can sum it up that some people are just too stupid for words!

his loss

Yesterday morning, I got the most fabulous phone call from the camp director's wife where my son goes to overnight camp.

Her initial reason for calling was because she wanted to tell me that the nurses had misplaced/lost my son's nasal allergy medicine and with just a few days left of the camp session, she wanted to know if it was a big deal. Nope, not a big deal. He will survive!

Since I had just seen pictures on their website of Color War breaking out, I inquired about it. For those of you who never attended camp that included Color War, it's pretty self-explanatory - it's where the campers are divided into two color groups and they compete against each other in a range of competitions. I remember that the highlight of my camp experiences was Color War.

Anyway, she told me the funniest story. My son joined a baseball league. It was Saturday at dusk, he was the last one up at bat and had two strikes against him. And then...he hit a homerun out of the park!

The problem with that was that my son's homerun completely screwed up their plans to break out Color War! Their initial plan was that they were expecting whomever was up at bat to strike out, the refs were going to come in to get into a very heated argument regarding the call and they were going to break out Color War. So here's the camp director's wife sitting in the office, waiting to get word on the walkie-talkie to turn on the music when she hears loud cheering coming from the baseball field and then the athletic director beeped in..."Uh, we have a little problem here!"!!

Their plan didn't include a back-up plan so they had no other choice but to just broke out Color War! And no one had a clue what was going on!

But that wasn't all. She proceeded to tell me how everyone was cheering my son's name as he rounded the bases and how much everyone at camp loves him. To say that I was overjoyed at hearing this news would be an understatement! I was beaming! And during the conversation she must have thanked me at least three times for allowing them to have my son for part of his summer.

Wow. I'm thinking that my son will return to his wicked ways once he returns home but for now, I'm basking in this glow.

So I called my parents and my sister because they have a very active part in my kids' lives and I knew they'd be interested in hearing the story. They were as pleased and excited as I was.

So I called his father, the person who shall not be mentioned here. Twice. No answer. I Emailed him to let him know that I'd been trying to call him to tell him of a great phone conversation I'd had with the camp director's wife thinking that he'd have an interest in hearing all about it and would pick the phone up right away to call me.

I'm really fooling myself, I know. A few minutes later he Emailed me back "thanks". WTF??!
There were no phone calls then or at any point during the day to find out about the phone conversation I had.

While I was at my daughter's swim practice last night, he called to ask me to have her call him when she was done. No inquiries about the phone conversation. I asked him if he was interested in knowing about it and he said in a dull tone of voice "Oh yeah.". I started to tell him and he got another call and he clicked over to it. Then he told me he'd have to call me back. He called me back but I'm not sure why as he actually told me that he only had a few seconds for me to tell him the story but when I told him it wasn't going to be quick then he actually said "Then I don't have time. You'll tell me tomorrow."

AS IF.

He doesn't have time?? Pardon me????? Beeeeeeep! Wrong answer. You are the weakest link, goodbye!

If any of you think I'm gonna' take any time out of my precious life to tell him that story now, you're high on massive amounts of crack.

And just so that y'all know, right or wrong, one day when my kids are grown and able to handle the truth, I am telling them what a royal horse's ass their father is. Just sayin'.

ICK to the highest power

I'm among the many people in the world who enjoys waking up to the smell of a rich, robust pot of coffee brewing, so when I smelled smelly dog ass this morning, I thought Schwartz had just farted.

A little while later I was still smelling a strong, potent odor of dog shit. When I walked out of my room and noticed the nice little mound of dog crap in my front hallway, I was not the least bit surprised.

Every now and then, Schwartz does this and I wish I could figure out why. I've become an expert at being able to read his signals when he needs to go out. But then there are days like today when he offers no signs and just prefers taking a hairy shit in my house that house pets from 1,000 miles away can sense.

It's a bit frustrating and embarrassing. Here I was just the other day bragging to y'all that I was able to fully train him and then I have to go admit that he left me with such a "treat"! Well, I don't have to admit anything! I could tell you that he shits gold and I'm about to become the wealthiest woman on this planet but unfortunately, that's not the case! Now, if our cars ran on the smelliest dog shit in the world, then I'd have something real to brag about!

I'm sure it's his way of getting attention although I'm thinking there are better, less smelly ways to do it!

Next time I'm taking a picture of it for your viewing pleasure!

the whole dog-gone story!

Queen Goob commented on my last post about Schwartz being a Lab so I thought I'd give my whole dog experience to clear things up.

Dog story #1...back in January, I believe, I took my kids to a birthday party where we saw a beautiful chocolate Lab sitting outside in the rain. According to the parents, the dog had been wandering the neighborhood for several days, had no collar and they said there didn't appear to be any signs around the neighborhood of anyone claiming him. It didn't take long to figure out that this very large puppy had been neglected and the owners had figured out that he was too much for them to handle, took his collar off so he couldn't be identified and let him go.

My kids had been begging me for a dog for some time so we took the dog. This dog was skinny, hungry and I was not about to let it sit in the rain another minute. As I soon realized, this dog was too much for us to handle! Having never owned a dog before, I was not prepared for something like that! Fortunately, my neighbor's handyman had been looking for a dog and as it turned out, this guy had once bred Labs. The minute dog and man saw each other, it was a match made in heaven! The dog is now happily romping on a large farm out somewhere in the Georgia countryside.

Dog story #2...my kids were very upset at having to give this fireball away. When I came back into the house after making sure the handyman had all the stuff we had bought for the puppy, both kids were crying and my son was wearing the borrowed dog collar around his head like fucking Rambo! Talk about throwing themselves a fucking pity party! I had to take them to out to get junk food and soda just to make sure the party was complete!

Soon after, I started searching online for pet adoption agencies in my area. I had always loved Boxers so I kept an eye out for one and I found an adorable Boxer/Lab mix that was in the right age range and was supposedly good with cats as we have three. I contacted the owner and she brought him by that afternoon. The kids really enjoyed him. A day or so later, when the kids were at their dads for a few hours, I asked the owner to bring the dog over so I could have some quality time with him to see if he would fit in here. A few things happened...first of all, he was scared to death of our cats and his reactions to them made me fucking on edge! When the owners came to pick him up, they admitted to me that even their cats didn't like him, growled at him often and they had had this dog for three years! We've had Schwartz for five months and my cats may still not be fully adjusted to him but even they don't growl at him anymore!

This false type of advertising really pissed me off. Had it not been for the allergic reaction I got from him being here, I would have told them 'no' solely based on them lying to me. As for the allergic reaction, I'm not sure why I got one because even though I'd never owned a dog, I've always been around them. I do recall that his brundle coat felt awfully strange and I'm not sure if it was the shampoo they used on him or if he hadn't been bathed in awhile but something wasn't right with it.

Dog story #3...again, my kids were disappointed in not being able to get that dog and I felt like I had let them down once again. People who've read my blog for awhile probably remember the stories I told about how nervous I was at becoming a dog-owner and I'm sure my nervousness played a huge roll in why I kept passing on these dogs.

Then the person who shall not be mentioned here tried to one-up me again by getting a puppy. He knew I had been looking for a dog and the kids had obviously voiced their disappointment to him in not getting another dog so they went out and got a puppy for the kids. It doesn't really matter what their reasons were behind it, to me it felt like they were doing it for no other reason than to try to score points with the kids and when he came over to the house one night to get the kids and they talked about how excited they were at seeing their puppy in front of me, he smirked at me and that's all it took for me to get my ass out there and start looking again. And that's when I found Schwartz.

For those of you who missed the post back in February, Schwartz is a Terrier/Cattle Dog mix and not a Lab as Queen Goob thought. He is a large 2-year old, approximately 60 pounds (he was 50 when we adopted him but I guess we've given him too many treats!!), and he's kinda' goonie-looking! I always describe him as Shrek but with fur. Sometimes he acts like a real doofus and other times you realize it's a total act and he's really pretty sharp!

It was Schwartz's second visit to the Humane Society. He had been neglected and was kept in a crate all day and all night by his previous owners who already had four other dogs. Luckily, they were smart enough to realize that they couldn't take care of him and brought him back to the shelter. He wasn't there five days when I spotted him and fell in love with his goofy self!

Getting him used to wearing a collar was a bit of a challenge. There was also the problem of him pooping and peeing inside the house for the first few months he was with us. There were times where I was ready to take him back to the shelter but when my anger subsided, I knew that I couldn't let the kids down again. Now he's a very spoiled dog who now alerts me to having to go to the bathroom and does his bu'ness outside!

To give you a little history on why I chose to adopt Schwartz...I walked into the Humane Society one day and there he was, quietly staring at me while all the other dogs in surrounding kennels were spazzing out, barking endlessly. He was so quiet, in fact, I wasn't even sure he knew how to bark! Then I saw his name and the first thing I thought of was that line from the movie Spaceballs, "May the Schwartz be with you!" and I knew we had to get him! Two days later, The Schwartz was with us!

Random Chick asked me to post a picture so, without further ado, heeeeeere's Schwartz!

my dog is so dope

Or such a dope, I'm not exactly sure which. My mom did ask me once if Schwartz was retarded and now I'm beginning to think that perhaps he is borderline.

Most of the toys Schwartz has had he's torn apart and they've disintegrated within days of us getting them for him. What toys does he like the most? The small catnip pillows that my cats should be playing with, my kids' stuffed animals, my daughter's barrettes, shoes of any kind and any game-piece that happened to be left out. One time he took a nap with a plastic puzzle piece in his mouth, woke up and spit it out! I swear, this dog is gonna' die an untimely death with all the shit he puts in his mouth. Oh yeah, he eats cat shit too straight from the litter box. It's like a fucking delicacy to him. *wretch*

For whatever reason, he cannot tear through this one particular catnip toy. He tosses it around and, at this point, is probably suffering from brain-damage from being on a permanent 'nip high. He'll come up to me with that thing in his mouth so that we can play fetch and within minutes that thing is soaked through, gooey even, and I just cannot manage to touch it any longer. Two weeks ago, I bought him this very cute (and very expensive) dog toy that was the same material as the catnip toy and the fucker tore through it by the end of the week! If it weren't for him recently chewing off the face of a stuffed animal and leaving it's stuffing all over the fucking house, I would have continued to let him chew away at that dog toy but I've learned my lesson the hard way.

Plastic or rubber toys? Do some dogs not have teeth?! How is it that Schwartz can destroy anything plastic or rubber within miliseconds and some dogs never pierce the surface of that object?

Do you know what he was chewing on as I'm typing this? Within one month of us adopting him, he managed to lose his dog tag. So he's chewing on something just now and he knows I can hear the "clanging" noise he's making but acts like he doesn't know anything when I approached him. I backed away, and saw him drop his tag out of his mouth. So I went up to him and asked him, like I was actually expecting him to respond, why he tore his tag off his collar again and lo-and-behold, there's that fucking tag he tore off back in March!!!! You don't understand, I looked high and low for that tag, where the fuck was he stashing it all this time???!

The fabric covering my box springs. No seriously. When our cat Buster still had claws, he would crawl along my box springs upside down, tearing the fabric to shreds. When Schwartz came along, looked under my bed one day while chasing down one of the cats, he saw the loose fabric and decided it was just as good as anything to tear apart. There is such little fabric left now that my box springs are starting to creak when I get into bed. Actually, I'm not sure the fabric has anything to do with the creaking or that Schwartz has decided to join me on the bed at bedtime and the weight of his big bahookie is slowly caving in my bed. Either/or, I figure any day now I'll find myself in traction in the hospital from my bed collapsing underneath me.

I think what he loves to chew on the most are the cats. So far the cats have been too quick for him to really chomp down on but the thrill of the chase for him keeps him going back for more. Each cat has had their turn to slap him around like Muhammad Ali during a prize fight. And he just doesn't fucking care. He loves the attention, thinks it's total playtime, gets right back up and goes after the cats even harder.

Hmmm...the cats smacking him around could possibly explain his possible brain damage.