A few weeks ago, in a vicinity pretty close to my house, there was an altercation between a few men, resulting in gunfire and murder.
I've been somewhat following bits and pieces of the story, and today as I'm checking the DMN website, I find this article:
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/061309dnmetdairyqueen.72a8b6d4.html
I am a sick sick human being. Reading this, I didn't feel like justice was served. I didn't feel sad for the victim and his family. Instead, I felt excited.
Excited ... about an article involving murder ...
WTF is wrong with me??
But, to be completely honest ... my excitement stems purely from the fact that the article informed me of a Dairy Queen that is close to my house. And there is nothing that isn't exciting about a Blizzard. There just isn't!
I'm sick!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Happy Birthday Baby Girl!!!
WOW -- I can't believe that my sweet little niece is already one!!!
1 day old: June 1, 2008
1 year old: June 1, 2009
These have been the best 365 days ever. I have loved watching you learn and grow. Can't wait to see what is in your bright future!
Love you baby girl!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Only a Mother Would Say
Let me ask you ladies, what the hell are you supposed to do with this comment:
Laney, you have such a pretty face. I'm just sad you're not living up to your full potential in the looks department.
I mean I don't know even know what she's referring to...
If it's because I wore dirty running socks yesterday, I mean I guess I could either wash them or buy more. Buutttt, I was using them to go on another run, it wasn't like I wore them out anywhere....
Is it because I go as long as I possibly can without washing my hair? Well, I can assure you that isn't going to change.
And when I do finally wash my hair, is it because I rarely run a brush through it, but leave the kinks to work themselvesout in? Yeah woman...you try battling Medusa every.single.day. every.single.three.days.
Maybe she doesn't believe in my theory of not worrying about how much prep time you spend getting yourself ready, as long as you have a precious pair of earrings, you look totally hot...
Eyeliner, mascara and blush isn't a face-full of pretty?
Wait, maybe I've got it! -- Does she disapprove of me constantly unbuttoning my pants after a meal? Or is it the jelly rolls that ooze over the sides of my pants and our from underneath my bra straps?
Did someone say cupcake?
Is it because when I see the sun shining, I lock myself indoors and close all the blinds in attempt to get as little sun exposure as possible? ...because sun poisoning is.not.cool. -- I'm just sayin...
Does she disagree with my rubberband permanently worn as a bracelet and a running headband that can bail me out ofany most folicle desasters?
Is it my toes? It is isn't it? Well dammit woman, you have these monkey thumbs to me, so quit bitchin about it!!
Want me to brush my teeth more when I come stay at your house? Stop throwing away my toothbrushes or using them to clean toilets. I will do a lot of gross things, but I refuse to brush my teeth with toilet water! Is that too much to ask?
I mean, I don't even know how to begin fixing what she finds flawed -- but the good news is this: at least she says I have potential!
Laney, you have such a pretty face. I'm just sad you're not living up to your full potential in the looks department.
I mean I don't know even know what she's referring to...
If it's because I wore dirty running socks yesterday, I mean I guess I could either wash them or buy more. Buutttt, I was using them to go on another run, it wasn't like I wore them out anywhere....
Is it because I go as long as I possibly can without washing my hair? Well, I can assure you that isn't going to change.
And when I do finally wash my hair, is it because I rarely run a brush through it, but leave the kinks to work themselves
Maybe she doesn't believe in my theory of not worrying about how much prep time you spend getting yourself ready, as long as you have a precious pair of earrings, you look totally hot...
Eyeliner, mascara and blush isn't a face-full of pretty?
Wait, maybe I've got it! -- Does she disapprove of me constantly unbuttoning my pants after a meal? Or is it the jelly rolls that ooze over the sides of my pants and our from underneath my bra straps?
Did someone say cupcake?
Is it because when I see the sun shining, I lock myself indoors and close all the blinds in attempt to get as little sun exposure as possible? ...because sun poisoning is.not.cool. -- I'm just sayin...
Does she disagree with my rubberband permanently worn as a bracelet and a running headband that can bail me out of
Is it my toes? It is isn't it? Well dammit woman, you have these monkey thumbs to me, so quit bitchin about it!!
Want me to brush my teeth more when I come stay at your house? Stop throwing away my toothbrushes or using them to clean toilets. I will do a lot of gross things, but I refuse to brush my teeth with toilet water! Is that too much to ask?
I mean, I don't even know how to begin fixing what she finds flawed -- but the good news is this: at least she says I have potential!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Funny, but Sad!
This is my beautiful sister and her friend Jonathan. They are currently on a drinking studying abroad type program which includes stops in London, Istanbul, and Greece.
Obviously her cell phone doesn't work over there, but fortunately she is able to get online and chat with us when she's got some downtime. I got up from my computer and when I came back, I had a nice surprise waiting for me: a message from Molly!
"So someone came up to me and asked me what I was. Was I a cougar? Or was I a milf?"
...and that is how my Monday evening was just made!!!
Thinkin' Outside the Bun!
As I was headed to lunch today, I debated where I would eat - much like I do every.single.day. Deciding against the burger, or thinking outside the bun, I was headed towards TacoBell. Quick glance into the shopping center right before the TB and I notice an alterations shop.
{Thinking... You know, I actually have my pants with me. Score!!! }
Now, let me explain how my lunchtime adventures, all the while trying to avoid the bun, were ironically filled with nothing but (no pun intended) the bun{s}.
---So taking things a few weekends back, I went shopping with Danette, Jen and Amber - all of whom encouraged me to keep pulling out my plastic and giving it a little swipe-a-roo through the register. They definitely talked me into these kickass white pants. Yes, I said white pants. And no, phenomenally, they don't make my ass look incredibly huge. Or flat. In fact, they're probably the only white jean/pants that I will ever be able to pull off! Butt, do they make me look tanner than I really am?!?!? Oh hellllllssss nah! Butt I'll give a little to take a little, right?---
Back to present day -- I make the swift decision that before I fill my gut, I should probably take these pants in to get the hem taken up. You know, for my midget stump legs. I walk out to the tri-fold mirror so Mr. Miyagi can chalk up the appropriate length, and as he's squatting down, he's eye-level with my backside. I shit you not, he takes his finger and traces the gem-lined embroidery on my back pockets. Pretty sure I got a nice little rubdown...
{Circling design with finger} Oh, yis is wery pwetty pocket. You pant are wery bootiful!
I was tempted to say Yes, sir -- my pants are very booty-full! butt I refrained. Instead, I just thanked him for the molestation compliment and went to change back into my other wardrobe.
Out the door I walk, and decide that maybe since I'll soon be donning tight white pants...maaayyybeeee I should forgo the stop at Taco Bell. Jason's Deli is definitely the healthier choice, and it's still outside the bun, so it'll do just fine. And it happens to be right next door to Mr. Miyagi.
As I'm sitting at a table near the counter, and eating my very healthy meal all sophisticated and skinny-like {in my head I was MaryKate-elbows-and-knees skinny} I am involuntarily exposed to more of the bun. Two men who have obviously just completed a vigorous workout are perusing the menu, when one of them slowly starts rubbing the back of the other. Then his hand creeps due south and begins caressing his 'workout partner's' buns, butt not without slowly sneaking his little fingers up the dude's shorts for a little skin-to-skin action.
*Rub!*Pinch!*Squeeze!*Rub!*Pat!*
I mean, seriously?!?
SERIOUSLY?!?
Sear.
E.
Us.
Leigh?!?!
Oh gag... {thinking...is this considered binging and purging if I'm not actually inducing the vomit myself?}
Then, a chick, somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one I'm assuming, bends over to retrieve a belonging she dropped on the floor. In her mini-skirt. The mini-skirt without panties... Oh, wow! Well, I guess I couldn't completely escape the taco either...
Turns out, my lunch was quite ironic. I swear, it was with only good intentions I tried to avoid empty-carb buns and greasy tacos ... butt, it just didn't exactly work out that way. Thanks to a few {ahem, Mr. Miyagi, Senor CuddleMeBums and Tiffany Taco) certain people.
I think I'll bring my lunch tomorrow. I'm thinking chicken breasts... no?
{Thinking... You know, I actually have my pants with me. Score!!! }
Now, let me explain how my lunchtime adventures, all the while trying to avoid the bun, were ironically filled with nothing but (no pun intended) the bun{s}.
---So taking things a few weekends back, I went shopping with Danette, Jen and Amber - all of whom encouraged me to keep pulling out my plastic and giving it a little swipe-a-roo through the register. They definitely talked me into these kickass white pants. Yes, I said white pants. And no, phenomenally, they don't make my ass look incredibly huge. Or flat. In fact, they're probably the only white jean/pants that I will ever be able to pull off! But
Back to present day -- I make the swift decision that before I fill my gut, I should probably take these pants in to get the hem taken up. You know, for my midget stump legs. I walk out to the tri-fold mirror so Mr. Miyagi can chalk up the appropriate length, and as he's squatting down, he's eye-level with my backside. I shit you not, he takes his finger and traces the gem-lined embroidery on my back pockets. Pretty sure I got a nice little rubdown...
{Circling design with finger} Oh, yis is wery pwetty pocket. You pant are wery bootiful!
I was tempted to say Yes, sir -- my pants are very booty-full! but
Out the door I walk, and decide that maybe since I'll soon be donning tight white pants...maaayyybeeee I should forgo the stop at Taco Bell. Jason's Deli is definitely the healthier choice, and it's still outside the bun, so it'll do just fine. And it happens to be right next door to Mr. Miyagi.
As I'm sitting at a table near the counter, and eating my very healthy meal all sophisticated and skinny-like {in my head I was MaryKate-elbows-and-knees skinny} I am involuntarily exposed to more of the bun. Two men who have obviously just completed a vigorous workout are perusing the menu, when one of them slowly starts rubbing the back of the other. Then his hand creeps due south and begins caressing his 'workout partner's' buns, but
*Rub!*Pinch!*Squeeze!*Rub!*Pat!*
I mean, seriously?!?
SERIOUSLY?!?
Sear.
E.
Us.
Leigh?!?!
Oh gag... {thinking...is this considered binging and purging if I'm not actually inducing the vomit myself?}
Then, a chick, somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one I'm assuming, bends over to retrieve a belonging she dropped on the floor. In her mini-skirt. The mini-skirt without panties... Oh, wow! Well, I guess I couldn't completely escape the taco either...
Turns out, my lunch was quite ironic. I swear, it was with only good intentions I tried to avoid empty-carb buns and greasy tacos ... but
I think I'll bring my lunch tomorrow. I'm thinking chicken breasts... no?
Explanation...
Okay, okay - I know it has been *forever* since I have posted anything interesting (wait, have I EVER posted anything interesting???), and I can basically blame it on the funk I have been in for the past month.
{WTF is a funk anyway?}
I was hoping that I could at least rely on Lady Haydie to fill in for me, but he too has been experiencing an ongoing blah attitude, not to mention a recent bout of BCOD. He's in full recovery mode now, no worries.
Speaking of ailments, let me just tell you about my little injury I sustained last week. Every time I cough, laugh, or even move really, I have this excruciating pain in the right side of my ribcage. Not quite sure exactly what I did, but it's one of two things: I popped a rib out or I pulled a muscle.
If you haven't been up to speed on my latest Facebook statuses, let me inform you how exactly I managed to do this to myself...
...
I was eating a chicken wing!
...
{Excussseeee me, did I just hear someone muffle fatass under their breath?!?!?}
Because let me assure you that I ama calorie-over indulger, carb addict, greasy-fingered lardass no fat kid. Sure, sure, it seems almost impossible to choke on a piece of poultry, inducing a heinous coughing fit and resulting in a very serious injury, but that's why I consider myself extremely talented. These things are just like Mission: ImPossible for me.
Don't believe me?
Well, have you ever pulled a muscle or displaced a rib because you were gnawing on a bone?
Yeah, didn't think so...
Or, better yet... Have you ever broken your toe while floating the river? Like literally sitting in a tube, floating in your own filth at about 0.235271 miles an hour and actually snapped your toe bone in half?
...Yeah, didn't think so either.
See, like I said... I'm just talented like that!
{WTF is a funk anyway?}
I was hoping that I could at least rely on Lady Haydie to fill in for me, but he too has been experiencing an ongoing blah attitude, not to mention a recent bout of BCOD. He's in full recovery mode now, no worries.
Speaking of ailments, let me just tell you about my little injury I sustained last week. Every time I cough, laugh, or even move really, I have this excruciating pain in the right side of my ribcage. Not quite sure exactly what I did, but it's one of two things: I popped a rib out or I pulled a muscle.
If you haven't been up to speed on my latest Facebook statuses, let me inform you how exactly I managed to do this to myself...
...
I was eating a chicken wing!
...
{Excussseeee me, did I just hear someone muffle fatass under their breath?!?!?}
Because let me assure you that I am
Don't believe me?
Well, have you ever pulled a muscle or displaced a rib because you were gnawing on a bone?
Yeah, didn't think so...
Or, better yet... Have you ever broken your toe while floating the river? Like literally sitting in a tube, floating in your own filth at about 0.235271 miles an hour and actually snapped your toe bone in half?
...Yeah, didn't think so either.
See, like I said... I'm just talented like that!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Payback
My dear, lifelong friend Jessica called me this morning to ask if I had any existing lunch plans, and when I said no, she informed me that I was obligated to run an errand with her as my payback from twenty-two years ago. Why was she owed such sweet revenge? Well, she claims that it's from be being a little bossy brat in preschool.
You see, we attended The Children's Workshop together, and along with another little girl, we always played 'house' together. I was the mom, without a doubt, every single day and there was little anyone could do to change that. I'm not quite sure why I was so determined on always being the mom, and not the working father, the child or the dog (or maid for that matter,) however I'll just assume that it was because I am the youngest and never got my way at home. Gotta take it where you can get it, right?!?!
I must have really pissed Jessica off with my antics, because one day she came up to me in the playroom and asked why she couldn't be mom. I simply gave her a scowl, an eye roll and a sigh. I told her that if she had her ears pierced, THEN she could be mom. Little did I know that she would actually go home crying to her mother, and wouldn't you know it...that very next day she came back to school with her freakin' ears pierced. Dammit! She got to be mom that day. Well, that was bullshit in my mind, so I had to then go and get my ears pierced, so I would be on an even playing field with her. The next day at school, I returned to my motherly role. She asked why I got to be mom again, since she had gotten her ears pierced (as I instructed her to do, claiming that moms have earrings.) I gave her a quick flash of the new studs that donned my ears and said well so do I...looks like I am back to being mom! Poor girl, she couldn't win. And why my parents didn't give me a good bitch slap as a child, I don't really know.
So today, twenty-two years later, it was finally time for my payback. I met up with Jessica and sweet baby Mady in Preston Center for a 1:30 appointment to get the lil' lady's ears pierced.
You see, we attended The Children's Workshop together, and along with another little girl, we always played 'house' together. I was the mom, without a doubt, every single day and there was little anyone could do to change that. I'm not quite sure why I was so determined on always being the mom, and not the working father, the child or the dog (or maid for that matter,) however I'll just assume that it was because I am the youngest and never got my way at home. Gotta take it where you can get it, right?!?!
I must have really pissed Jessica off with my antics, because one day she came up to me in the playroom and asked why she couldn't be mom. I simply gave her a scowl, an eye roll and a sigh. I told her that if she had her ears pierced, THEN she could be mom. Little did I know that she would actually go home crying to her mother, and wouldn't you know it...that very next day she came back to school with her freakin' ears pierced. Dammit! She got to be mom that day. Well, that was bullshit in my mind, so I had to then go and get my ears pierced, so I would be on an even playing field with her. The next day at school, I returned to my motherly role. She asked why I got to be mom again, since she had gotten her ears pierced (as I instructed her to do, claiming that moms have earrings.) I gave her a quick flash of the new studs that donned my ears and said well so do I...looks like I am back to being mom! Poor girl, she couldn't win. And why my parents didn't give me a good bitch slap as a child, I don't really know.
So today, twenty-two years later, it was finally time for my payback. I met up with Jessica and sweet baby Mady in Preston Center for a 1:30 appointment to get the lil' lady's ears pierced.
First, mark the ears... 
Next, Momma - hold on tight!
Then, a quick poke...
And finally...WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Luckily, Jessica was informed beforehand that sometimes letting a baby taste a sucker for the first time will help sooth them, so she came prepared. Let me just say that Wow! That baby likes her some BlowPop!
And off they go, as they head back home. Maddy is a new woman now, with her precious pierced ears and her candy-red lips! 
Thanks for making allowing me to be such a part of this special day, Jessica!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
My Jesus
Well, we all know (except for my pop-culture-retard sister) that Ricky Bobby and Cal like to picture their Jesus in special ways, in order to better relate to Him. Ricky likes baby Jesus, or even bearded Jesus while Cal likes Jesus in a tuxedo t-shirt, singing vocals with Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Sometimes I too imagine what my Jesus looks like, sounds like, feels like, etc., but it still remains a mystery to me. One thing I do know for sure is that my Jesus has a strong sense of humor. More and more, I'm realizing just how funny of a dude that Man really is.
How I know my Jesus is funny:
1. The incredible, humorous situations I continuously find myself engulfed in.
2. The amazing circle of funny people I am surrounded by, and am blessed enough to call them my friends.
3. The fact that my daddy may quite possibly be the funniest man I've ever met.
4. The number of times I laugh each and every single day.
5. Because my family is so dysfunctional and off the rocker, to the point of it being huh-larious!
These are all comical blessings sent from God. Yup, I am positive that my Jesus is a funny fella, but he's also got some tricks up his sleeves. Sometimes I get frustrated, annoyed, irritable and then I stop. I look up, roll my eyes, shake my head and address Him. 'So, you've got jokes, huh?' I mean, what are ya gonna do? When Jesus throws out a jab, you've just gotta roll with the punches.
How I know my Jesus has jokes:
{ONE} I have been working on restoring my damn work computer now for months. Months, I tell ya. Ridding it of trojans/viruses/spam. Pair that with a copious amount of ID-10-T user errors, and you're left with nothing short of a migraine. I'd rather hunt landmines with my face than to continue on this journey of fixing the problem. Every single step I take towards improvement, results in about 20 steps backwards on a different route. Is this for real?
{TWO} I have more wardrobe malfunctions than anyone I know. I recently posted a FB status asking if anyone had such problems the way I do, and Kacy guaranteed that no, there is absolutely no possible way someone has issues as frequent as me. I did wonder if people think I'm exaggerating, until the afternoon after posting that status, I showed up to happy hour and Kacy goes "Um, Lane - two of your buttons are undone." Well, no shit huh? Half my problem is that I can't even see my buttons anymore. Does nobody else have to send out emails to friends asking them if your shirt was undone the entirety of your lunch gathering, or did it just happen while sitting, motionlessly, in your office? At this point, if any breathing human in Dallas has yet to have a peep show through my shirt, I might as well just flash them to get them all caught up.
And it's completely normal to unknowingly walk around your office with the straps of your panties hanging out the top of or caught up on the buttons of your pants, right??? Wait, no it's not normal? Okay, well then add that one to the list too!
Ever rip your dress seam right up the crack of your ass? Not that I EVER do that, I just thought I'd ask.
{THREE} Sunday evening, I invited a little mini-friend over to spend the night, since she has been begging now for months, and I wasn't going to work that next morning. (I stayed home from work yesterday, so that I could greet the AT&T technicians with warm lovies and give my bitter-sour goodbye kisses to Time Warner.) Now, I took this lil chickie home with me late Sunday night, thinking bedtime would be quickly approaching. I thought this through without realizing that it was Easter and the lil lady had more than a Willy Wonka factory's worth of chocolate and candy that day. Whoops!
On the way home, we were practicing her sight words from billboards and buildings as we passed. Then she'd make up some spellings and ask me what they spelled.
"Laney, what does k-o-k spell?"
"Umm, that spells cock." {shit!} "No, I'm sorry. Actually, k-o-k isn't a word, sweetie."
Once we were home and all situated, finally she fell fast asleep. Leaving me to myself, the dark and the silence. Since I couldn't sleep from 1:30 to about 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, I was excited about the misconception that she would probably sleep until 9:00 or 9:30 (per her mom,) however I didn't quite understand it was a misconception until a few minutes before 7:00, when I heard her sweet little mischievous whisper:
"Laaaaannnneeeeyyyyy, are you awaaaaaaaakkkee?"
Daaaaaaaammmmmittttt! Go back to bed. "Yes, honey. Good morning, princess!!!"
I instructed her to go back upstairs to get her cup, so I could make her some chocolate milk to have with her breakfast. On her little adventure, doing whatever it was that she was doing up there for quite some time, she maybe, just might have, kiiiiind offfffff forgot one important thing about waking up. When she finally realized that *teensy weensy little must-do,* I heard this crying echoing down the stairs.
"Laaaaaannnneeeeeeyyyyy, I need help! Help me, Laney."
Immediately, and completely freaked out, I rushed upstairs to see what was plaguing her and then I notice it. The statue of a completely still little five year old girl, with a quivering lip, staring down at her feet, that were drowning in a puddle of pee. ...ON.MY.CARPET.
Off the bath we go and I ask her to take of her clothes for me. She gives me a perfect go-to-hell look and informs me that there is absolutely no way she's touching her urine-soaked nightgown and panties. Guess who was left to do it??? And that is how my morning began. All before 7:30 in the morning. On my day off.
...Annnnnnnd this is all before burning two batches of bacon while making the lil lady breakfast, as I was simultaneously trying to help the AT&T guy with his questions, chasing the dog outside, (which the lil chica kept continuously opening the door and letting him out) apologizing to the neighbors for my unleashed dog pestering their leashed dogs AND THEN THE KICKER...having to instruct said girl to keep her dress down and stop talking about how she wasn't wearing panties, while in the presence of the cable guys.
After reflecting back on said events, I have come to a complete realization that my Jesus sure has an unconventional sense of humor, but is a funny Man nonetheless.
So, now it's your turn. What's YOUR Jesus like?
Sometimes I too imagine what my Jesus looks like, sounds like, feels like, etc., but it still remains a mystery to me. One thing I do know for sure is that my Jesus has a strong sense of humor. More and more, I'm realizing just how funny of a dude that Man really is.
How I know my Jesus is funny:
1. The incredible, humorous situations I continuously find myself engulfed in.
2. The amazing circle of funny people I am surrounded by, and am blessed enough to call them my friends.
3. The fact that my daddy may quite possibly be the funniest man I've ever met.
4. The number of times I laugh each and every single day.
5. Because my family is so dysfunctional and off the rocker, to the point of it being huh-larious!
These are all comical blessings sent from God. Yup, I am positive that my Jesus is a funny fella, but he's also got some tricks up his sleeves. Sometimes I get frustrated, annoyed, irritable and then I stop. I look up, roll my eyes, shake my head and address Him. 'So, you've got jokes, huh?' I mean, what are ya gonna do? When Jesus throws out a jab, you've just gotta roll with the punches.
How I know my Jesus has jokes:
{ONE} I have been working on restoring my damn work computer now for months. Months, I tell ya. Ridding it of trojans/viruses/spam. Pair that with a copious amount of ID-10-T user errors, and you're left with nothing short of a migraine. I'd rather hunt landmines with my face than to continue on this journey of fixing the problem. Every single step I take towards improvement, results in about 20 steps backwards on a different route. Is this for real?
{TWO} I have more wardrobe malfunctions than anyone I know. I recently posted a FB status asking if anyone had such problems the way I do, and Kacy guaranteed that no, there is absolutely no possible way someone has issues as frequent as me. I did wonder if people think I'm exaggerating, until the afternoon after posting that status, I showed up to happy hour and Kacy goes "Um, Lane - two of your buttons are undone." Well, no shit huh? Half my problem is that I can't even see my buttons anymore. Does nobody else have to send out emails to friends asking them if your shirt was undone the entirety of your lunch gathering, or did it just happen while sitting, motionlessly, in your office? At this point, if any breathing human in Dallas has yet to have a peep show through my shirt, I might as well just flash them to get them all caught up.
And it's completely normal to unknowingly walk around your office with the straps of your panties hanging out the top of or caught up on the buttons of your pants, right??? Wait, no it's not normal? Okay, well then add that one to the list too!
Ever rip your dress seam right up the crack of your ass? Not that I EVER do that, I just thought I'd ask.
{THREE} Sunday evening, I invited a little mini-friend over to spend the night, since she has been begging now for months, and I wasn't going to work that next morning. (I stayed home from work yesterday, so that I could greet the AT&T technicians with warm lovies and give my bitter-sour goodbye kisses to Time Warner.) Now, I took this lil chickie home with me late Sunday night, thinking bedtime would be quickly approaching. I thought this through without realizing that it was Easter and the lil lady had more than a Willy Wonka factory's worth of chocolate and candy that day. Whoops!
On the way home, we were practicing her sight words from billboards and buildings as we passed. Then she'd make up some spellings and ask me what they spelled.
"Laney, what does k-o-k spell?"
"Umm, that spells cock." {shit!} "No, I'm sorry. Actually, k-o-k isn't a word, sweetie."
Once we were home and all situated, finally she fell fast asleep. Leaving me to myself, the dark and the silence. Since I couldn't sleep from 1:30 to about 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, I was excited about the misconception that she would probably sleep until 9:00 or 9:30 (per her mom,) however I didn't quite understand it was a misconception until a few minutes before 7:00, when I heard her sweet little mischievous whisper:
"Laaaaannnneeeeyyyyy, are you awaaaaaaaakkkee?"
I instructed her to go back upstairs to get her cup, so I could make her some chocolate milk to have with her breakfast. On her little adventure, doing whatever it was that she was doing up there for quite some time, she maybe, just might have, kiiiiind offfffff forgot one important thing about waking up. When she finally realized that *teensy weensy little must-do,* I heard this crying echoing down the stairs.
"Laaaaaannnneeeeeeyyyyy, I need help! Help me, Laney."
Immediately, and completely freaked out, I rushed upstairs to see what was plaguing her and then I notice it. The statue of a completely still little five year old girl, with a quivering lip, staring down at her feet, that were drowning in a puddle of pee. ...ON.MY.CARPET.
Off the bath we go and I ask her to take of her clothes for me. She gives me a perfect go-to-hell look and informs me that there is absolutely no way she's touching her urine-soaked nightgown and panties. Guess who was left to do it??? And that is how my morning began. All before 7:30 in the morning. On my day off.
...Annnnnnnd this is all before burning two batches of bacon while making the lil lady breakfast, as I was simultaneously trying to help the AT&T guy with his questions, chasing the dog outside, (which the lil chica kept continuously opening the door and letting him out) apologizing to the neighbors for my unleashed dog pestering their leashed dogs AND THEN THE KICKER...having to instruct said girl to keep her dress down and stop talking about how she wasn't wearing panties, while in the presence of the cable guys.
After reflecting back on said events, I have come to a complete realization that my Jesus sure has an unconventional sense of humor, but is a funny Man nonetheless.
So, now it's your turn. What's YOUR Jesus like?
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Happy Easter!!!
I know this is a repeat from last year, but I just can't even help myself. I mean, let's be real, a holiday is not a holiday unless if involves some kind of freakish dysfunction and nightmares, right?
Having said that, I would like to say:
Happy Easter from the bushes!
Having said that, I would like to say:
Happy Easter from the bushes!
Friday, April 10, 2009
My Fair(y) Lady
I began making my new group of lifelong friends when I entered Kindergarten at Dooley Elementary School, and one of those friends, has remained in our close group until this day, and we frequently see each other at special occasions: weddings, baby showers, etc. We'll just refer her as 'Ol Girl, for the protection of her identity.
When it came time for college, 'Ol Girl went out west, where she met and fell in love with one of the most amazing of the male species. I was so pleased when I finally got the chance to meet him when she brought him back home for a summer holiday. The boyfriend and I hit it off immediately, knowing we were both important people in 'Ol Girl's life, and our personalities were so similar, it was almost scary. He still loves to tell {as much as I love to hear} the story of what he first thought of me when he met me. He thought I was a high-class, goody-two shoes with a killer instinct for fashion and vehicles. Mind you, it didn't take more than an additional meeting for him to realize he was highly mistaken. Highly mistaken! I think he loved me even more at that moment, you know in that 'my girlfriend's good crazy ass friend' kind of way.
Once graduated, 'Ol Girl convinced the boy to move back to P-town with her, and this is where they intended to began the next phase of their life together. She would often pick up a few shifts on the local golf course, which just so happens to run along the side of my parents' house, so the dude and I would sit on the patio with some cold 'beverlies' and wait for her to get off work. Three was never a crowd when it came to us, (wow, that sounds amazingly kinky) but the boyfriend would always get overwhelmingly excited when I was about to bring a date out with us. He befriended my man of the month, started thinking of our double weddings, how we'd raise our families together... you know, all the typical freakishly weird stuff that chicks do early on in a relationship....well, 'Ol Girl's boyfriend did that for me. One particular breakup might possibly have caused him a greater heartache than I had myself, and there is still a song to this day, neither one of us can listen to.
Anyhoo, things between 'Ol Girl and the boyfriend started to get rocky, as most things do when you're going through life-changing experiences, such as graduating college and getting a real grown-up job. Unfortunately, I was a safe haven for both of them when it came to venting, getting advice, etc., so I was aware of what was going on from both angles. Never a place I wanted to be, nor asked to be, but was happy to be there for them if they needed me. In coming months, the boyfriend decided that it was time to return back to his hometown and let some of the dust settle for awhile. He and I remained in strong communication and our friendship continuously developed from afar.
When 'Ol Girl learned of how frequently I was and had been communicating with her ex-boyfriend for the seven months since the breakup, she had a few questions and whole lot of confrontation for me. I don't blame her at all, I know I would have done the same thing. All this time, she was thinking that we (me and the ex) had some incredible sexual attraction to one another and they we were working on the hook-up since she was now out of the picture. After a long discussion, a few tears, and maybe more drinks than are normally recommended, I had to let her in on the real scoop.
Sweetie, I would never do that to you. We've been friends for so long, and I value our friendship so much, I could never do anything to hurt you. But I do understand where you're coming from and that you're confused. I do know something that will explain all of this, and it's not my place to say, but I guess I need to now. I've been encouraging him to tell you himself, as a way to help you and him to move on individually, but since this is now causing conflict in my friendship with you, I have to tell you. He's gay!
...And that is how I became BFFE's with my sweet, adorable, sarcastic, witty, cynical, suave, alcoholic Hayden. If you haven't caught on from previous posts, this man-lovin' fella is beyond hilarious and comes up with some of the best reading material I have ever passed my eyes over. He has me in stitches, peeing in my pants, gasping for breath, at least once a day. {I guess I should really start sending him my dry cleaning bill for all those pee stains...} I've often told him that he needs to create a blog of his own, but he's not one for following instructions well, so I've now dedicated some space for him to be a guest blogger on this Train. He will be taking my place once a week to provide you with some over-the-top, out-of-control, completely politically-incorrect material and I couldn't be more excited about it.
Oddly enough, tonight will host a magical event that has been two years in the making. Well actually, it's been one week in the making, but has been on the minds of several people for the past two years. He will finally meet face-to-face with 'Ol Girl for the first time since he walked out the door into a new world he could have never once imagined. They have an arrangement to meet for Happy Hour drinks, in mixed company and reconnect as the friends they once were. (and maybe check out some of the fellas together...) Next week, he will be returning with a rundown of how thing went and then some. Dude, this is so going to be an Oprah special.
But without further ado...please welcome Lane & The Stanga Train's newest addition.
When it came time for college, 'Ol Girl went out west, where she met and fell in love with one of the most amazing of the male species. I was so pleased when I finally got the chance to meet him when she brought him back home for a summer holiday. The boyfriend and I hit it off immediately, knowing we were both important people in 'Ol Girl's life, and our personalities were so similar, it was almost scary. He still loves to tell {as much as I love to hear} the story of what he first thought of me when he met me. He thought I was a high-class, goody-two shoes with a killer instinct for fashion and vehicles. Mind you, it didn't take more than an additional meeting for him to realize he was highly mistaken. Highly mistaken! I think he loved me even more at that moment, you know in that 'my girlfriend's good crazy ass friend' kind of way.
Once graduated, 'Ol Girl convinced the boy to move back to P-town with her, and this is where they intended to began the next phase of their life together. She would often pick up a few shifts on the local golf course, which just so happens to run along the side of my parents' house, so the dude and I would sit on the patio with some cold 'beverlies' and wait for her to get off work. Three was never a crowd when it came to us, (wow, that sounds amazingly kinky) but the boyfriend would always get overwhelmingly excited when I was about to bring a date out with us. He befriended my man of the month, started thinking of our double weddings, how we'd raise our families together... you know, all the typical freakishly weird stuff that chicks do early on in a relationship....well, 'Ol Girl's boyfriend did that for me. One particular breakup might possibly have caused him a greater heartache than I had myself, and there is still a song to this day, neither one of us can listen to.
Anyhoo, things between 'Ol Girl and the boyfriend started to get rocky, as most things do when you're going through life-changing experiences, such as graduating college and getting a real grown-up job. Unfortunately, I was a safe haven for both of them when it came to venting, getting advice, etc., so I was aware of what was going on from both angles. Never a place I wanted to be, nor asked to be, but was happy to be there for them if they needed me. In coming months, the boyfriend decided that it was time to return back to his hometown and let some of the dust settle for awhile. He and I remained in strong communication and our friendship continuously developed from afar.
When 'Ol Girl learned of how frequently I was and had been communicating with her ex-boyfriend for the seven months since the breakup, she had a few questions and whole lot of confrontation for me. I don't blame her at all, I know I would have done the same thing. All this time, she was thinking that we (me and the ex) had some incredible sexual attraction to one another and they we were working on the hook-up since she was now out of the picture. After a long discussion, a few tears, and maybe more drinks than are normally recommended, I had to let her in on the real scoop.
Sweetie, I would never do that to you. We've been friends for so long, and I value our friendship so much, I could never do anything to hurt you. But I do understand where you're coming from and that you're confused. I do know something that will explain all of this, and it's not my place to say, but I guess I need to now. I've been encouraging him to tell you himself, as a way to help you and him to move on individually, but since this is now causing conflict in my friendship with you, I have to tell you. He's gay!
...And that is how I became BFFE's with my sweet, adorable, sarcastic, witty, cynical, suave, alcoholic Hayden. If you haven't caught on from previous posts, this man-lovin' fella is beyond hilarious and comes up with some of the best reading material I have ever passed my eyes over. He has me in stitches, peeing in my pants, gasping for breath, at least once a day. {I guess I should really start sending him my dry cleaning bill for all those pee stains...} I've often told him that he needs to create a blog of his own, but he's not one for following instructions well, so I've now dedicated some space for him to be a guest blogger on this Train. He will be taking my place once a week to provide you with some over-the-top, out-of-control, completely politically-incorrect material and I couldn't be more excited about it.
Oddly enough, tonight will host a magical event that has been two years in the making. Well actually, it's been one week in the making, but has been on the minds of several people for the past two years. He will finally meet face-to-face with 'Ol Girl for the first time since he walked out the door into a new world he could have never once imagined. They have an arrangement to meet for Happy Hour drinks, in mixed company and reconnect as the friends they once were. (and maybe check out some of the fellas together...) Next week, he will be returning with a rundown of how thing went and then some. Dude, this is so going to be an Oprah special.
But without further ado...please welcome Lane & The Stanga Train's newest addition.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
(Wo)Man's Best Friend
I apologize I know some of you have been waiting for updates on my sweet lil pup. Well, let me just tell you - he has come out of his shell. He has to be in the right mood, just like any of us, but if he is, that lil guy is just so dang funny. But when you put him in his raincoat, his personality goes right back in the box. 
He's eating like a maniac, can't wait to come inside from his walks because he knows he gets a treat, runs circles around the couch if he's excited, and he absolutely loves to be on the computer! Yes,I said the computer. You see, anytime I'm perusing the webernets on the couch or in bed, he has to be right in my lap, sitting directly in front of the screen so I can't get anything done. He is ten kinds of unhappy when I move him to the side and don't pay attention to him.
He's such a loving lil fella once he gets to know you, and will lick on your face all day long if you let him. He definitely doesn't like to sleep alone but instead needs to be sprawled out right alongside you. He's my little space heater! :)
He's not quite yet your typical crazy Jack Russell, although he has shown some signs of his breed, such as having an incredible interest in squirrels and birds. He absolutely loved being free and having the ability to run all over the place at Cheatham Ranch this past weekend. What a doll, he was. Marty fell in love with him too (although he thinks that I may be babying him a bit much, but I prefer to disagree.)
Now, there is one thing he has become fantastic at, but I'm on the fence about how I really feel about all this. I mean, I know this is a sign that he's eating well and his body is functioning in a healthy manner, but the dog poops on everything. I was expecting him to mark his spot everywhere he goes, and he does not disappoint, only it is a solid marker rather than the wet kind. Those doggy waste bags are expensive, dude! Can we limit this please?!?!
He has gotten more fond of his little monster friend that continues to harass him, however she is not quite yet the best buddy he has been longing for his entire lifetime. He's gotten better about not running from her as much, and I've even found him cuddling up right next to her.
There are definitely a few things we are still working on, one being the weight issue, but he has come such a long way since I first got him. His back bones and spine are slowly being engulfed in layers of fat that I've been packin' on him. Another thing we need to work on is stairs. The dude is TERRIFIED of stairs. He won't come up them. He won't come down them. I guess I don't have to worry much for the time being about leaving things laying around on the floor, because there is no possible way he's going up 20+ stairs to get something to chew on. Don't get me wrong, he does make it up the first two steps and acts like he wants to continue further, but he just can't bring himself to do it. So he waits. And waits. And waits.
Any speaking of chewing on things, he has absolutely zero interest in toys, or other dogs for that matter. I took him to the dog park for the first time last week. He sniffed around a bit, then found the humans and begged for attention. He could care less about balls, toys, or a friendly game of chase. Everyone at the park said he was by far, the sweetest lil guy they ever did see. *Tear* I'm such a proud momma!
The cough has taken a slow route out, but day by day he's getting better. Come to think of it, I haven't heard him cough or sneeze since the weekend. Praise Jesus! For awhile there, I was having to wash all kinds of blankets and towels on a regular basis, as he used to them to discard his green infection. YUCK! For awhile, I was having to sneak him some Robitussin, which HE.DID.NOT.LIKE! And that's an understatement of an understatement. He would often spit it out, while sneezing or coughing, causing pink syrup to go EVERYWHERE. Poor lil man was stained with pink polka dots for quite some time.
I think that's all I can report on for now. I work on getting some new, updated pictures of him and his beefy new figure! :)
He's eating like a maniac, can't wait to come inside from his walks because he knows he gets a treat, runs circles around the couch if he's excited, and he absolutely loves to be on the computer! Yes,I said the computer. You see, anytime I'm perusing the webernets on the couch or in bed, he has to be right in my lap, sitting directly in front of the screen so I can't get anything done. He is ten kinds of unhappy when I move him to the side and don't pay attention to him.
He's such a loving lil fella once he gets to know you, and will lick on your face all day long if you let him. He definitely doesn't like to sleep alone but instead needs to be sprawled out right alongside you. He's my little space heater! :)
He's not quite yet your typical crazy Jack Russell, although he has shown some signs of his breed, such as having an incredible interest in squirrels and birds. He absolutely loved being free and having the ability to run all over the place at Cheatham Ranch this past weekend. What a doll, he was. Marty fell in love with him too (although he thinks that I may be babying him a bit much, but I prefer to disagree.)
Now, there is one thing he has become fantastic at, but I'm on the fence about how I really feel about all this. I mean, I know this is a sign that he's eating well and his body is functioning in a healthy manner, but the dog poops on everything. I was expecting him to mark his spot everywhere he goes, and he does not disappoint, only it is a solid marker rather than the wet kind. Those doggy waste bags are expensive, dude! Can we limit this please?!?!
He has gotten more fond of his little monster friend that continues to harass him, however she is not quite yet the best buddy he has been longing for his entire lifetime. He's gotten better about not running from her as much, and I've even found him cuddling up right next to her.
There are definitely a few things we are still working on, one being the weight issue, but he has come such a long way since I first got him. His back bones and spine are slowly being engulfed in layers of fat that I've been packin' on him. Another thing we need to work on is stairs. The dude is TERRIFIED of stairs. He won't come up them. He won't come down them. I guess I don't have to worry much for the time being about leaving things laying around on the floor, because there is no possible way he's going up 20+ stairs to get something to chew on. Don't get me wrong, he does make it up the first two steps and acts like he wants to continue further, but he just can't bring himself to do it. So he waits. And waits. And waits.
Any speaking of chewing on things, he has absolutely zero interest in toys, or other dogs for that matter. I took him to the dog park for the first time last week. He sniffed around a bit, then found the humans and begged for attention. He could care less about balls, toys, or a friendly game of chase. Everyone at the park said he was by far, the sweetest lil guy they ever did see. *Tear* I'm such a proud momma!
The cough has taken a slow route out, but day by day he's getting better. Come to think of it, I haven't heard him cough or sneeze since the weekend. Praise Jesus! For awhile there, I was having to wash all kinds of blankets and towels on a regular basis, as he used to them to discard his green infection. YUCK! For awhile, I was having to sneak him some Robitussin, which HE.DID.NOT.LIKE! And that's an understatement of an understatement. He would often spit it out, while sneezing or coughing, causing pink syrup to go EVERYWHERE. Poor lil man was stained with pink polka dots for quite some time.
I think that's all I can report on for now. I work on getting some new, updated pictures of him and his beefy new figure! :)
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
I Ain't Ever...
It has been mentioned to me on several occasions that I have a ridiculous knack for involving myself in absolutely, one hundred percent retarded situations involving some of God's most special creatures. It's like I'm a magnet for the crazies. Yeah yeah yeah, 'takes one to know one...' I get it, I get it. Well, while most of you are sayin I ain't ever heard of such a thing... I can promise you that I have. It's like the most awkward people are drawn to me, to help fulfill and enrich my life experiences.
Of course, we all know the incident with the AH-MAZE-ING Sheryl. Or the dude that wanted to roll me in sauce. Or the time that 57 year old man tried to make out with me during my interview for his company. (Kacy, we need to video blog this demonstration... BTW) I mean, seriously, what the crap is wrong with people??
Well, I'm still on a mission to find out what chromosomes are out of whack on these individuals, but I keep getting interrupted along the way. Interrupted by more and more ass clowns that continue to add to my library of stories.
It shall come as no surprise that some of the more interesting characters I have ever come across have hailed from the great city of Austin, Texas. I have literally been in a pseudo fight with a mute mime. She was genuinely pissed off at me, would not let go of my arm, and was up in my face, bitching at me....silently. Trey tried to intervene and get her off of me, but she wasn't having it. She pushed him out of the way and chased me until she grabbed a hold of me again. Finally, a few cops came up to assist. I mean, honestly, is this Candid Camera??? Or what about the time I was walking back to a parking lot in Austin when I feel a *WHACK* right on my ass?? I turned around to notice a lesbian behind me, who just ass-slapped me with a two-foot long double-ended dildo. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?!?!?! Seriously, people?
Let's just say we've got a new gem of a hang-out for Wednesday Happy Hours. (Please send credit over to Kacy, for allowing me to take a few excerpts from her rendition of this fine, fine day.)We approached this patio, bravely, on the day that is known to common people as April Fools Day, however, the only people kidding themselves, were us! And by kidding ourselves, I mean leading ourselves to believe we belong in a place like this.
Because Kacy's main man Matt thinks he needs a little more country in his life as of late, we all decided to go to a bar in Lewisville called “Redneck Heaven”. It was interesting to say the least and, let me assure, the name does not disappoint. The décor was elegant. In the woman’s bathroom hung and instructional poster on how to make a beer bong. Hanging from the ceiling were koozie mobiles and redneck windchimes. Most everything you would expect under the title, “Redneck”.
When we arrived and walked through the swinging doors advertising their world famous Minnow Bombs, we were met by the tallest Hooters-esque, Glamazon waitresses I have ever laid eyes on. Marty (please note this is Kacy's Marty, not mine) was pretty sure that if they formed a women’s basketball team they could take the entire DFW Metroplex by storm. And, when I say tall, I mean there were about three or four of them over six feet. Yowzers! Anyway, they were just cute as a button in their boots, rolled up cut-offs and bellyless tanks. Our waitress, M., really put a lot of forethought into her bangin’ getup. Not only did her dark blue eye shadow match her dark blue under-tank, but those also both matched the latter half of her fingernails. By that, I mean, the tips of her fake nails were painted navy blue as well. She also was chocked full-o-brains. One time, when she actually got the two drink order correctly, she fist pumped and “Yyyyeeeessssssss”ed under her breath. She deserved Employee of the Month.
Of course we started with a table on the patio and a round of drinks. Casey made the mistake of saying yes to the big beer. The options were small or big, according to WM (Waitress M.). A big beer is usually 16 ounces. Maybe 20, if you’re lucky. Not at Redneck Heaven. They prefer you to drink your beer by the gallon, or what they like to call, Bubba Beers. And quite honestly, you may put yourself in the line of danger if you did not order a Bubba Beer because WM was about as scary as Godzilla with her stares. I'm pretty sure I witness her nose flare and a snarl come across her face when I opted for the smaller beverage.
We quickly noticed that a couple of sports cars kept pulling in and out of the parking lot. The license plates were Gabe1 and Gabe2. I’m not a car person but I think they were real fancy sports cars. Like, you know you've made to the point of being wealthy white trash when you drive a Mustang GT. Anyway, Gabe (I’m assuming) would bring someone out of the bar and take them for a spin in one of the two cars then pull back in. Everyone kept going out to look at the car. One time he peeled out, fish-tailed and the place went wild. WM told us that’s why Gabe is 40 and single but then went on to explain that she has a photo shoot with that car the following day. We’re all a flutter waiting to see the pictures. . It was the main attraction. (Please take note of Glamazon WM and Gabe in the yellow.)
Well, until ...
... Until, we were blessed with Bandana Girl. I posed for a picture so Kacy could capture the lovely couple in the background. We kind of got busted taking the picture so the dude came over and had his picture taken with me. He was pretty sure he was famous by then. I mean, who wouldn't be excited to be photographed with me???
This girl was extremely over the limit on alcohol and minnow intake. The Minnow Bombs are some sort of yellow shot with a live minnow zipping around inside. Like overgrown caviar in a shot glass! We watched her take a few and you just drink them right up, apparently!
Marty wanted to snag one of the minnow shots and take it down to the local PETA headquarters and watch some heads explode but that idea became less exciting once the minnow kisses began. Much like butterfly or Eskimo kisses, the minnow kiss involves close face-to-face contact but does not include the lips. The guy (in the picture with me) was taking minnow shots with Bandana Girl, but on the last one he actually caught the minnow in his teeth. Head side in. The minnow, still alive of course, is flapping all around. With the minnow still in his teeth he leans over and lets the tail flap on Bandana Girl’s nose. Cutest thing you ever did see. I think they might have gotten married right then and there except...
... except that Bandana Girl got sleepy. Her ‘boyfriend’ left to go use the restroom (which, we were informed, the men’s urinals looks out over the entire restaurant with a two-way mirror) and after she sat in the lap and hugged on guy #2, she then decided to go ahead and turn in for the evening right there on the concrete. We tried to be discreet with the picture taking so we went under the table with it. At least she got to show off her tattoo!
Guy #2 felt an obligation to care for Bandana Girl at this point so he picked her up, walked her out to his white truck, put her inside (as the entire place watched) and then came back in to finish his drink. I mean, what dude lets a broad ruin a good time? Eventually they left – hopefully they know each other.
At this point, we have a new friend that shows up, (a real friend) and keep in mind that he has not yet Happy Hour'd with us before. We feel obliged to tell him all the stories about how we meet random people at bars and the entire episode of T-Shirt Girl. During story time he had no idea that he was about to step off up into a real live episode of “Kacy & Lane Make New Friends.”
Just about that time is when Guy #1 came over to our table. He asked us, very seriously, “who is the most trustworthy person at this table?” Kacy's hand pretty much shoots up and she claims that she is by far the most trustworthy person at the table! She's probably not, by the way, but she tries to stay on the white side of the lie line most of the time. Anyhoo – so he tells her to get up and come over to him, and like the good listener she is, she does. He looks at her very sternly and says, “Can you watch my stuff while I go to the bathroom?” Haha! His “stuff” consisted of one beer, one shot and a pair of sunglasses. She of course tells him sure, even though he never checked her trustworthy credentials. He comes back and she sparks up a conversation with him, right then and there in front of all of us. Without a doubt, we had to know why she was watching his stuff. He told us that he doesn’t trust this guy (the one with his tongue out in the picture). Kacy acted shocked. But, if we are all being honest, this guy just doesn’t look like the trustworthy type...
Let me warn you – some pretty heavy cursing begins at this point. Hold your ears.
He goes on to tell us that the un-trustworthy son-ova-bitch claims he’s a Gold Vest Gypsy. Of course Kacy has to ask what that is and he proceeds to say it’s a bike club and the Gold Vest Gypsy’s are the Mama and the Papa of the Black Sheep to which he has an affiliation.
“So, he’s saying that he’s better than you?" Kacy asks. Which, she was absolutely right. (She picks up on biker speak pretty quick. Be jealous.)
He continues by telling us that he’s currently a member of Hell’s Angels. “I’m the worst of the worst,” he says, “I don’t know why. Just am.”
"Is there some type of club card you need to get in?" she asks. He does not think it’s funny. He's all business. All of the time.
Right about then the Gold Vest Gypsy poser comes over to talk to our new friend and we am blinded by a shiny object. Our pal has a knife! He tells Kacy that he plans to kill that guy if he doesn’t back off.
Luckily, backing off ensued because the poser needed to go bum a smoke from Matt. He walks up to Matt, completely drugged and drunk and says, “Man, I’ve had a really bad day. I crashed my bike, my girlfriend left me and I just got out of jail.” Matt fully expected him to ask for money but no, he just wanted a single cigarette. Either way, we were all just glad a cuttin’ didn’t happen. 
Kacy finally decided to introduce herself to my our new friend and she extends her hand and asks his name. Crash. His name is Crash. After having to turn her head and withhold laughter because if ever the perfect name was predicted for this story it would have absolutely been “Crash”. We were clearly entering blogger’s paradise.
Crash ends up having a seat at our table. His poser pal fled the scene and Crash relaxed a little bit and began talking it up. Kacy gave him a true rundown, Tory style, until we basically knew his life story. Things are really hard to retell and recapture sometimes but I hope you’ll enjoy these tidbits from the life of Crash:
*He got a call on his cell phone in the middle of our conversation. When he hung up, Kacy asked, “Who was that?” He said it was "Wound Tight". She asked, "is he a friend of yours?"
o Crash: It's a SHE.
o Kacy: Oh. Why do you call her Wound Tight?
o Crash: You don't want to know.
o Kacy: What's her real name?
o Crash: Sammie. Or, Spun Loose.
o Kacy: Spun Loose? She has three names? How do you know which one to call her?
o Crash: Normally we call her Wound Tight but we call her Spun Loose when she's been drinking.
In fact, Crash was late for his yearly club party and that’s why Wound Tight was calling. So, Crash put Kacy on the phone with her. Had she been there in person we all might woulda peed our pants. She sounded mean. Crash told Kacy to tell her that he would be there when he got there and so Kacy passed along the message.
“Who is this?” she asked.
Well, thinking that it would be much cooler if she had a biker name, Kacy racked my brain for something and as she glanced up at the Red Lobster sign next door she told her she was “Ugly Red”.
"Who?"
Not doubting her new redneck name for a minute, Kacy claimed, “This is Ugly Red.”
That’s when the yelling began … “I DON’T WANT TO FUCK!ING TALK TO YOU!!!!” Kacy took that as a hint and passed the phone back over.
*Crash told us he has a very beautiful daughter. That’s because he only dates models.
*Crash is a Hazmat Engineer, claiming, “I like to blow sh!t up.” The suits he has to wear cost $10,000. According to Mr. Crash.
*Crash told us that the mother of his daughter is “no longer with us” because she brought a child molester around their daughter after they had split. The obvious next question to be asked here is,
o Kacy: Have you ever killed anyone?
o Crash: I was in the Marines. I’ve been to war.
o Kacy: Okay, but have you killed anyone on the outside?
o Crash: … pause …
o Casey Harris: We’ll take that as a yes. So, what did you kill them with?
o Crash: Which one?
*We got lots of biker lessons but here’s what you need to know: Texas is currently ruled by Banditos and Crash doesn't get along with them, but it will soon be a Hell's Angel nation.
*At one point Crash yelled at the waitress really mean and demeaning. After that he said, “Did y’all hear that?” And of course we did. He said, “I did that to prove a point. They know me here and they don’t get mad.” Crash has mad clout at Redneck Heaven. Just FYI.
Finally, we went inside and caught a few minutes of the fabulous karaoke. Next time, we’re going to focus more on that. But, Kacy did capture a little video here for you and it’s our waitress who thinks it’s sexy. Listen closely. Oh, and yes, this is the lone black man, sporting a Fedora hat no less, singing sweet sweet R&B love songs at Redneck Heaven.
And we found the Bike of the Month with strict instructions not to touch. Looks older than dirt but hey, we're no vehicular experts.
Oh oh oh! I almost forgot... Just about everyone noticed the extremely off brand ketchup that they serve at RH. Marty insisted on me stuffing it in her purse and ‘lifting’ the Red Gold. I passed it back over to Marty in the parking lot. He called soon thereafter and said he had made an awesome world changing discovery after stopping for some french fries. Marty’s Discovery: Whataburger steals their ketchup from Red Gold because it’s just as good. I HIGHLY doubt it but, we’ll try it next week as we go back for another episode of *everyone now*, “Redneck Heaven!”
So, the moral of the story(ies) is...I can't make up stuff this good. You may be doubting me and my ability to scout out some phenomenal people, thinkin I ain't ever... but trust me, I ain't ever, either. Until....BAM! it just happens.
Of course, we all know the incident with the AH-MAZE-ING Sheryl. Or the dude that wanted to roll me in sauce. Or the time that 57 year old man tried to make out with me during my interview for his company. (Kacy, we need to video blog this demonstration... BTW) I mean, seriously, what the crap is wrong with people??
Well, I'm still on a mission to find out what chromosomes are out of whack on these individuals, but I keep getting interrupted along the way. Interrupted by more and more ass clowns that continue to add to my library of stories.
It shall come as no surprise that some of the more interesting characters I have ever come across have hailed from the great city of Austin, Texas. I have literally been in a pseudo fight with a mute mime. She was genuinely pissed off at me, would not let go of my arm, and was up in my face, bitching at me....silently. Trey tried to intervene and get her off of me, but she wasn't having it. She pushed him out of the way and chased me until she grabbed a hold of me again. Finally, a few cops came up to assist. I mean, honestly, is this Candid Camera??? Or what about the time I was walking back to a parking lot in Austin when I feel a *WHACK* right on my ass?? I turned around to notice a lesbian behind me, who just ass-slapped me with a two-foot long double-ended dildo. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?!?!?! Seriously, people?
Let's just say we've got a new gem of a hang-out for Wednesday Happy Hours. (Please send credit over to Kacy, for allowing me to take a few excerpts from her rendition of this fine, fine day.)We approached this patio, bravely, on the day that is known to common people as April Fools Day, however, the only people kidding themselves, were us! And by kidding ourselves, I mean leading ourselves to believe we belong in a place like this.
Because Kacy's main man Matt thinks he needs a little more country in his life as of late, we all decided to go to a bar in Lewisville called “Redneck Heaven”. It was interesting to say the least and, let me assure, the name does not disappoint. The décor was elegant. In the woman’s bathroom hung and instructional poster on how to make a beer bong. Hanging from the ceiling were koozie mobiles and redneck windchimes. Most everything you would expect under the title, “Redneck”.
When we arrived and walked through the swinging doors advertising their world famous Minnow Bombs, we were met by the tallest Hooters-esque, Glamazon waitresses I have ever laid eyes on. Marty (please note this is Kacy's Marty, not mine) was pretty sure that if they formed a women’s basketball team they could take the entire DFW Metroplex by storm. And, when I say tall, I mean there were about three or four of them over six feet. Yowzers! Anyway, they were just cute as a button in their boots, rolled up cut-offs and bellyless tanks. Our waitress, M., really put a lot of forethought into her bangin’ getup. Not only did her dark blue eye shadow match her dark blue under-tank, but those also both matched the latter half of her fingernails. By that, I mean, the tips of her fake nails were painted navy blue as well. She also was chocked full-o-brains. One time, when she actually got the two drink order correctly, she fist pumped and “Yyyyeeeessssssss”ed under her breath. She deserved Employee of the Month.
Of course we started with a table on the patio and a round of drinks. Casey made the mistake of saying yes to the big beer. The options were small or big, according to WM (Waitress M.). A big beer is usually 16 ounces. Maybe 20, if you’re lucky. Not at Redneck Heaven. They prefer you to drink your beer by the gallon, or what they like to call, Bubba Beers. And quite honestly, you may put yourself in the line of danger if you did not order a Bubba Beer because WM was about as scary as Godzilla with her stares. I'm pretty sure I witness her nose flare and a snarl come across her face when I opted for the smaller beverage.
We quickly noticed that a couple of sports cars kept pulling in and out of the parking lot. The license plates were Gabe1 and Gabe2. I’m not a car person but I think they were real fancy sports cars. Like, you know you've made to the point of being wealthy white trash when you drive a Mustang GT. Anyway, Gabe (I’m assuming) would bring someone out of the bar and take them for a spin in one of the two cars then pull back in. Everyone kept going out to look at the car. One time he peeled out, fish-tailed and the place went wild. WM told us that’s why Gabe is 40 and single but then went on to explain that she has a photo shoot with that car the following day. We’re all a flutter waiting to see the pictures. . It was the main attraction. (Please take note of Glamazon WM and Gabe in the yellow.)
Well, until ...
... Until, we were blessed with Bandana Girl. I posed for a picture so Kacy could capture the lovely couple in the background. We kind of got busted taking the picture so the dude came over and had his picture taken with me. He was pretty sure he was famous by then. I mean, who wouldn't be excited to be photographed with me???
This girl was extremely over the limit on alcohol and minnow intake. The Minnow Bombs are some sort of yellow shot with a live minnow zipping around inside. Like overgrown caviar in a shot glass! We watched her take a few and you just drink them right up, apparently!
Marty wanted to snag one of the minnow shots and take it down to the local PETA headquarters and watch some heads explode but that idea became less exciting once the minnow kisses began. Much like butterfly or Eskimo kisses, the minnow kiss involves close face-to-face contact but does not include the lips. The guy (in the picture with me) was taking minnow shots with Bandana Girl, but on the last one he actually caught the minnow in his teeth. Head side in. The minnow, still alive of course, is flapping all around. With the minnow still in his teeth he leans over and lets the tail flap on Bandana Girl’s nose. Cutest thing you ever did see. I think they might have gotten married right then and there except...
... except that Bandana Girl got sleepy. Her ‘boyfriend’ left to go use the restroom (which, we were informed, the men’s urinals looks out over the entire restaurant with a two-way mirror) and after she sat in the lap and hugged on guy #2, she then decided to go ahead and turn in for the evening right there on the concrete. We tried to be discreet with the picture taking so we went under the table with it. At least she got to show off her tattoo!
Guy #2 felt an obligation to care for Bandana Girl at this point so he picked her up, walked her out to his white truck, put her inside (as the entire place watched) and then came back in to finish his drink. I mean, what dude lets a broad ruin a good time? Eventually they left – hopefully they know each other.
At this point, we have a new friend that shows up, (a real friend) and keep in mind that he has not yet Happy Hour'd with us before. We feel obliged to tell him all the stories about how we meet random people at bars and the entire episode of T-Shirt Girl. During story time he had no idea that he was about to step off up into a real live episode of “Kacy & Lane Make New Friends.”
Just about that time is when Guy #1 came over to our table. He asked us, very seriously, “who is the most trustworthy person at this table?” Kacy's hand pretty much shoots up and she claims that she is by far the most trustworthy person at the table! She's probably not, by the way, but she tries to stay on the white side of the lie line most of the time. Anyhoo – so he tells her to get up and come over to him, and like the good listener she is, she does. He looks at her very sternly and says, “Can you watch my stuff while I go to the bathroom?” Haha! His “stuff” consisted of one beer, one shot and a pair of sunglasses. She of course tells him sure, even though he never checked her trustworthy credentials. He comes back and she sparks up a conversation with him, right then and there in front of all of us. Without a doubt, we had to know why she was watching his stuff. He told us that he doesn’t trust this guy (the one with his tongue out in the picture). Kacy acted shocked. But, if we are all being honest, this guy just doesn’t look like the trustworthy type...
Let me warn you – some pretty heavy cursing begins at this point. Hold your ears.
He goes on to tell us that the un-trustworthy son-ova-bitch claims he’s a Gold Vest Gypsy. Of course Kacy has to ask what that is and he proceeds to say it’s a bike club and the Gold Vest Gypsy’s are the Mama and the Papa of the Black Sheep to which he has an affiliation.
“So, he’s saying that he’s better than you?" Kacy asks. Which, she was absolutely right. (She picks up on biker speak pretty quick. Be jealous.)
He continues by telling us that he’s currently a member of Hell’s Angels. “I’m the worst of the worst,” he says, “I don’t know why. Just am.”
"Is there some type of club card you need to get in?" she asks. He does not think it’s funny. He's all business. All of the time.
Right about then the Gold Vest Gypsy poser comes over to talk to our new friend and we am blinded by a shiny object. Our pal has a knife! He tells Kacy that he plans to kill that guy if he doesn’t back off.
Luckily, backing off ensued because the poser needed to go bum a smoke from Matt. He walks up to Matt, completely drugged and drunk and says, “Man, I’ve had a really bad day. I crashed my bike, my girlfriend left me and I just got out of jail.” Matt fully expected him to ask for money but no, he just wanted a single cigarette. Either way, we were all just glad a cuttin’ didn’t happen. 
Kacy finally decided to introduce herself to my our new friend and she extends her hand and asks his name. Crash. His name is Crash. After having to turn her head and withhold laughter because if ever the perfect name was predicted for this story it would have absolutely been “Crash”. We were clearly entering blogger’s paradise.
Crash ends up having a seat at our table. His poser pal fled the scene and Crash relaxed a little bit and began talking it up. Kacy gave him a true rundown, Tory style, until we basically knew his life story. Things are really hard to retell and recapture sometimes but I hope you’ll enjoy these tidbits from the life of Crash:*He got a call on his cell phone in the middle of our conversation. When he hung up, Kacy asked, “Who was that?” He said it was "Wound Tight". She asked, "is he a friend of yours?"
o Crash: It's a SHE.
o Kacy: Oh. Why do you call her Wound Tight?
o Crash: You don't want to know.
o Kacy: What's her real name?
o Crash: Sammie. Or, Spun Loose.
o Kacy: Spun Loose? She has three names? How do you know which one to call her?
o Crash: Normally we call her Wound Tight but we call her Spun Loose when she's been drinking.
In fact, Crash was late for his yearly club party and that’s why Wound Tight was calling. So, Crash put Kacy on the phone with her. Had she been there in person we all might woulda peed our pants. She sounded mean. Crash told Kacy to tell her that he would be there when he got there and so Kacy passed along the message.
“Who is this?” she asked.
Well, thinking that it would be much cooler if she had a biker name, Kacy racked my brain for something and as she glanced up at the Red Lobster sign next door she told her she was “Ugly Red”.
"Who?"
Not doubting her new redneck name for a minute, Kacy claimed, “This is Ugly Red.”
That’s when the yelling began … “I DON’T WANT TO FUCK!ING TALK TO YOU!!!!” Kacy took that as a hint and passed the phone back over.
*Crash told us he has a very beautiful daughter. That’s because he only dates models.
*Crash is a Hazmat Engineer, claiming, “I like to blow sh!t up.” The suits he has to wear cost $10,000. According to Mr. Crash.
*Crash told us that the mother of his daughter is “no longer with us” because she brought a child molester around their daughter after they had split. The obvious next question to be asked here is,
o Kacy: Have you ever killed anyone?
o Crash: I was in the Marines. I’ve been to war.
o Kacy: Okay, but have you killed anyone on the outside?
o Crash: … pause …
o Casey Harris: We’ll take that as a yes. So, what did you kill them with?
o Crash: Which one?
*We got lots of biker lessons but here’s what you need to know: Texas is currently ruled by Banditos and Crash doesn't get along with them, but it will soon be a Hell's Angel nation.
*At one point Crash yelled at the waitress really mean and demeaning. After that he said, “Did y’all hear that?” And of course we did. He said, “I did that to prove a point. They know me here and they don’t get mad.” Crash has mad clout at Redneck Heaven. Just FYI.
Finally, we went inside and caught a few minutes of the fabulous karaoke. Next time, we’re going to focus more on that. But, Kacy did capture a little video here for you and it’s our waitress who thinks it’s sexy. Listen closely. Oh, and yes, this is the lone black man, sporting a Fedora hat no less, singing sweet sweet R&B love songs at Redneck Heaven.
And we found the Bike of the Month with strict instructions not to touch. Looks older than dirt but hey, we're no vehicular experts.
Oh oh oh! I almost forgot... Just about everyone noticed the extremely off brand ketchup that they serve at RH. Marty insisted on me stuffing it in her purse and ‘lifting’ the Red Gold. I passed it back over to Marty in the parking lot. He called soon thereafter and said he had made an awesome world changing discovery after stopping for some french fries. Marty’s Discovery: Whataburger steals their ketchup from Red Gold because it’s just as good. I HIGHLY doubt it but, we’ll try it next week as we go back for another episode of *everyone now*, “Redneck Heaven!”
So, the moral of the story(ies) is...I can't make up stuff this good. You may be doubting me and my ability to scout out some phenomenal people, thinkin I ain't ever... but trust me, I ain't ever, either. Until....BAM! it just happens.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Guess Where!?!
I've got my boots...
I've got my hat...
Anyone want to guess where I'm headed???
Jacques-Imo and I are packed up and headed south for a little country fun tomorrow. Yee-Haw!!!
I've got my hat...
Anyone want to guess where I'm headed???
Jacques-Imo and I are packed up and headed south for a little country fun tomorrow. Yee-Haw!!!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Ohhhhh....I get it now!
So, I may be a little bit on the slow side (don't you dare agree with me...) but at least I was finally able to connect the dots. Even if it took over a week.
Last Monday, I went to my regular stylist to get just a maintenance trim, since I'm trying to keep my hair longer. She asked me, "Now, is there anything I need to remember before I begin?" I shook my head no, because she is well aware of the potential my hair has if not blow-dried in a timely manner. She also knows I have a shit ton of hair and she's going to really have to comb through it. She knows all this, so I just tell her that everything is good, just here for a cut.
"Now, you don't have to style it like this every time, but I would like to show you an option if you're feeling fancy one day."So after that, I come out of the salon and return to working like a complete asshat. Scoot over, Farrah Fawcett - I'm bringing this feathered look back again. Whatever, not a big deal - it was just the way she styled my hair.
Of course, it took me until Thursday to even wash my hair again (since it was Monday when she did a real professional rinse on the weave) and I tried to do something different with it and let's face it.... IT.DID.NOT.WORK. Not a problem, just didn't style it the normal way... I'm sure it will be fine when I go back to my normal routine.
Over the weekend, my hair was pulled back in a pony tail or in a headband and yesterday it was curly. However today....
Today is the day that I realized that the whole "is there anything I should remember? bit" Ummmm...yeah - I'm growing my hair out, I don't want short layers. Maybe she forgot that I was trying to keep the layers long, because with this volume, short layers are recipe for disaster.
What am I left with? Short freaking layers!
I think this is the first time, I've been truly unhappy with her cut. Unhappy, but at least I finally understand what she was trying to ask.
Last Monday, I went to my regular stylist to get just a maintenance trim, since I'm trying to keep my hair longer. She asked me, "Now, is there anything I need to remember before I begin?" I shook my head no, because she is well aware of the potential my hair has if not blow-dried in a timely manner. She also knows I have a shit ton of hair and she's going to really have to comb through it. She knows all this, so I just tell her that everything is good, just here for a cut.
"Now, you don't have to style it like this every time, but I would like to show you an option if you're feeling fancy one day."So after that, I come out of the salon and return to working like a complete asshat. Scoot over, Farrah Fawcett - I'm bringing this feathered look back again. Whatever, not a big deal - it was just the way she styled my hair.
Of course, it took me until Thursday to even wash my hair again (since it was Monday when she did a real professional rinse on the weave) and I tried to do something different with it and let's face it.... IT.DID.NOT.WORK. Not a problem, just didn't style it the normal way... I'm sure it will be fine when I go back to my normal routine.
Over the weekend, my hair was pulled back in a pony tail or in a headband and yesterday it was curly. However today....
Today is the day that I realized that the whole "is there anything I should remember? bit" Ummmm...yeah - I'm growing my hair out, I don't want short layers. Maybe she forgot that I was trying to keep the layers long, because with this volume, short layers are recipe for disaster.
What am I left with? Short freaking layers!
I think this is the first time, I've been truly unhappy with her cut. Unhappy, but at least I finally understand what she was trying to ask.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Questionnaire
*Do you ever sit and contemplate (on a daily basis) how to make a sweatshirt look the least bit professional? Or then think that if you add the right earrings, you could totally pull of wearing a sweatshirt to work?
No? You don't?
Oh. Uhhhh, yeah..... neither do I?!?!?
*Do you ever find yourself setting a series recording for every single rerun of Will & Grace possibly aired on Lifetime? Or get ridiculously excited that they added two more times each and every weekday to replay episodes, totalling six times a day you can catch that quirky quad??
No? You don't?
Oh, okay. Yeah.....me either!?!?!
Wait wait, how about this one...
*Do you ever tune in to 107.5, which has now turned into a Latino station, and completely jam out with your air guitar and steering wheel drums to songs you can't even comprehend?
No? You don't do that either? Geez, what the hell do you do?
But, in case you were wondering... I would never do anything like that.
No? You don't?
Oh. Uhhhh, yeah..... neither do I?!?!?
*Do you ever find yourself setting a series recording for every single rerun of Will & Grace possibly aired on Lifetime? Or get ridiculously excited that they added two more times each and every weekday to replay episodes, totalling six times a day you can catch that quirky quad??
No? You don't?
Oh, okay. Yeah.....me either!?!?!
Wait wait, how about this one...
*Do you ever tune in to 107.5, which has now turned into a Latino station, and completely jam out with your air guitar and steering wheel drums to songs you can't even comprehend?
No? You don't do that either? Geez, what the hell do you do?
But, in case you were wondering... I would never do anything like that.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Geeks On Call
If you dial 1-800-555-GEEK, I'm pretty sure I'll be the newest dispatch dork to assist you with all your troublesome techie needs.
You see, I've had wireless internet at my house the whole time I've lived there, all of two years. My service provider is TimeWarner, {but we'll save my soapbox speech for another day} however, I haven't been completely, one hundred percent in love with the amenities and speed that they provide {UNDERSTATEMENT!}
One day, while my computer was searching for all available wireless networks, I happened across an unsecured connection from my neighbors. AKA - 'G Net' Let me just say that the G is so much better than my dang connection, so there began my career as a criminal. I was thieving interweb access from my neighbors. Everyone was telling me I should just cancel my own service and keep connecting to a unsecured network whenever I could, however my fear was "what if those people move, or secure their network, or cancel it themselves?" So, for that reason alone, I kept deepening the pockets of Time Warner, although I hadn't been using their services in well over a year.
With the ridiculous wind and weather changes that have blown in over the past week, I just figured my inability to connect to the G was due to some outages in the area. The next day...still no service. Instead of opening up Google in my web browser, it redirected me to a customer service page for AT&T, instructing me to call to resolve the issue.
I could only imagine how that phone call would go down:
AT&T - Thank you for calling AT&T Customer Service, how may I assist you today?
Me - Um, yes, my high-speed internet isn't working. The web browser page that comes up tells me to contact you regarding my service.
AT&T - Ok maam, I'll be glad to assist you. May I have your name and phone number please?
Me - Lane Stanga. 469.xxx.xx22.
AT&T - Ok, could you just verify your address for me?
Me - Sure, it's ...... xxxx sdgsgh road, xxx.
AT&T - Thank you. Let me repeat that back to you. It's xxxx sdgsgh road, xxx.
Me - Yes, that is correct.
AT&T - I'm sorry ma'am. We have don't have any record for a customer under that name and phone number, and our service map says that location isn't being supported by AT&T. Are you sure you're a current customer with AT&T?
Me - No. I'm not. Actually, you see, I've been stealing internet from one of my neighbors and suddenly their service has been interrupted. I was just wondering if you could get them up and running again. I mean, this is really interfering with my blogging and such. Do you happen to have a service technician currently handling the problem?
AT&T - Wait, you're not a customer but you're gaining access through one of our customers? And you want us to come fix their internet, only because you can't steal it anymore?
Me - Yes, sir. That is correct.
{Crickets.}
{Click}
So, I decided to forgo the call to AT&T and just check back every day to see if G Net was back to normal. Two days went by and then I saw the moving truck. At that moment, I was praising myself for never canceling my own service, even if I hadn't used it in two years.
I returned to search for available networks and of course, the only one I could connect to was my own connection. UGH, WHATEVER! So I attempt to connect, and guess what??? No connection. It says I'm connected, but that is a down right lie. {Just like much of what TW promises to their patrons.} At that moment, I realize why I began stealing service from my neighbors in the first place. My connection was always jacked up.
I was down-right utterly pissed, and mixed with an intense crave for some good blog material, I was determined to get to the root of the problem. I racked my nerdy brain for all my tech-savvy tricks and did some real high-tech maintenance that many of you couldn't even comprehend. With all of my knowledge and skills, I finally got my very own wireless service working again. ...After two whole years!... Pretty sure Geeks-On-Call is jumping at the bit to hire me for such skills I demonstrated yesterday.
What are those skills you ask??
I'm going to whisper it, because this kind of knowledge and technique is far to advanced for just anyone to attempt.
*i pushed the 'reset' button*
SHHHHH!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Add Another One To The List
of reasons why I love my lady-gay friend, Hayden.
(8:59:48 AM) Lane: Morning!
(9:00:11 AM) Haydent: Hey Quita.
(9:00:20 AM) Lane: whatcha durrin?
(9:00:50 AM) Hayden: signing up my ex for spam email
(9:00:52 AM) Hayden: u?
(8:59:48 AM) Lane: Morning!
(9:00:11 AM) Haydent: Hey Quita.
(9:00:20 AM) Lane: whatcha durrin?
(9:00:50 AM) Hayden: signing up my ex for spam email
(9:00:52 AM) Hayden: u?
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Can I Add This To My Resume?
The lovely Miss Christy, CEO over at the Von Tungeln Headquarters, was so kind to honor me with a special award, that without a doubt, has been spreading itself through blogland like a bad epidemic of the Hiv. This is one lady that I do not get enough time with, that's for sure, but one thing I do know is I heart her and her sweet family so much!
The rules are:
List seven things that you love and then grant seven other bloggers with this gracious award.
Seven Things I Love:
1. My crazy, frivolous family that keeps this train a'runnin.
2. The Miss Priss, Claire. She has brought more joy into my life than I could have ever expected!!!
3. Jacques-Imo. He has really taken a great liking to me and our bond is growing stronger by the day. Last night, I really felt for the first time, that he was totally, completely, in love with me.
4. There are these people I know. I call them my friends. Sometimes they make me pee in my pants a little.
5. Holla to all my Mommy friends out there! What, what!!! What was once nothing more than The Murphy Moms Club, is now probably the coolest group of baby-bearing ladies around!
6. Karen Walker & Jack McFarland.
7. Blogstalking. Duh!!!
Seven Fellow Kreativ Bloggers:
1. Remember how just a minute ago, I told you some of my friends make me pee in my pants. Check out Kacy! This lady is a hoot and a half, I'm tellin 'ya.
2. That ridiculous Boudreaux and all his crazy shenanigans. We should all send a little prayer over to his momma, Molly, for the sake of her sanity while raising this lil guy!
3. My life would not be complete without the random and absolutely hysterical Blayne-isms that Danette so often provides me with! Believe me, this is one little chick you totally need to meet!
4. My sweet and sassy sister-in-law, Maegan tries really hard to keep her posts updated and everytime I see a new entry about my sweet baby C, I get ten kinds of excited!
5. Stacee. Oh, Stacee. My long lost twin, separated at birth. Well, she's a bit older than me, but still - I swear we are the same person. She once said that reading my blog makes her feel less crazy. I don't know if she necessarily meant that she could relate, or she was saying that I'm absolutely off my rocker?!?!?
6. Shana, over at Everything Eads, always has fun little updates about Livvy Lou and Jacob, too! Her precious duo are so fun to read about!
7. I absolutely love keeping up with Candi. I kinda knew her when she lived in Texas, but I feel like I know her even better now that she's blogging remotely from over there Utah. I definitely think she is a chick I could hang with!
Congratulations ladies!!! Keep up the good work!
The rules are:
List seven things that you love and then grant seven other bloggers with this gracious award.
Seven Things I Love:
1. My crazy, frivolous family that keeps this train a'runnin.
2. The Miss Priss, Claire. She has brought more joy into my life than I could have ever expected!!!
3. Jacques-Imo. He has really taken a great liking to me and our bond is growing stronger by the day. Last night, I really felt for the first time, that he was totally, completely, in love with me.
4. There are these people I know. I call them my friends. Sometimes they make me pee in my pants a little.
5. Holla to all my Mommy friends out there! What, what!!! What was once nothing more than The Murphy Moms Club, is now probably the coolest group of baby-bearing ladies around!
6. Karen Walker & Jack McFarland.
7. Blogstalking. Duh!!!
Seven Fellow Kreativ Bloggers:
1. Remember how just a minute ago, I told you some of my friends make me pee in my pants. Check out Kacy! This lady is a hoot and a half, I'm tellin 'ya.
2. That ridiculous Boudreaux and all his crazy shenanigans. We should all send a little prayer over to his momma, Molly, for the sake of her sanity while raising this lil guy!
3. My life would not be complete without the random and absolutely hysterical Blayne-isms that Danette so often provides me with! Believe me, this is one little chick you totally need to meet!
4. My sweet and sassy sister-in-law, Maegan tries really hard to keep her posts updated and everytime I see a new entry about my sweet baby C, I get ten kinds of excited!
5. Stacee. Oh, Stacee. My long lost twin, separated at birth. Well, she's a bit older than me, but still - I swear we are the same person. She once said that reading my blog makes her feel less crazy. I don't know if she necessarily meant that she could relate, or she was saying that I'm absolutely off my rocker?!?!?
6. Shana, over at Everything Eads, always has fun little updates about Livvy Lou and Jacob, too! Her precious duo are so fun to read about!
7. I absolutely love keeping up with Candi. I kinda knew her when she lived in Texas, but I feel like I know her even better now that she's blogging remotely from over there Utah. I definitely think she is a chick I could hang with!
Congratulations ladies!!! Keep up the good work!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Adventures of Aunt Laney
Mark and Maegan had tickets to the Stars game last night, so Claire was dropped off at my house for a little fun.
She climbed all over the place, and even tried to climb up and over the back of the couch. She really wanted all the goodies that were behind the couch on the table, so I had to pull the couch away from the table far enough beyond her reach. Apparently, I had forgotten to baby-proof my house before she came to visit.
She climbed all over the place, and even tried to climb up and over the back of the couch. She really wanted all the goodies that were behind the couch on the table, so I had to pull the couch away from the table far enough beyond her reach. Apparently, I had forgotten to baby-proof my house before she came to visit.
The little princess was going crazy, and it was hard to keep up with her. Well, it was hard to keep her away from chasing and climbing all over Jacques-Imo. To try and calm her down, I decided she may like to read a little book, which captivated her for all of four seconds. She has yet to appreciate the gracious gift from God of Mike the Tiger.
She was squirming like crazy, just begging to get down and explore, climb, tear my house apart and anything else a nine month old wants to do. She found her way over to a new 'toy' that she became immediately obsessed with. The pictures will tell the story.
Let me just say, this kid is out of control. I finally strapped her in the stroller, got the leash for the pooch and the three of us headed off for nice stroll down to the park. Let me just say that any onlooker must have definitely felt sorry for the 'single mother' with a ridiculously hyper, babbling baby and a pup that decided to lay down in the middle of his walk. I ended up carrying him through various parts of our walk, because he was DONE with it all. At least all the stopping and going helped pass the time before it was getting dark and little miss priss was getting sleepy. Time for a nighttime bottle and some relaxing before dozing off into Dreamland.
I didn't have my hands full, I promise! 
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