Discussion begun by SkitzoLeezra:
I have not much of a rant today but more of an observation. God has LET me believe that I don't desire children. I think it is part of his plan to keep me from harming "our future".
(Thanks to Kay for "Raising Children is like being Pecked to Death by Chickens" refrigerator magnet!)
They should rename Target the "Store of Screaming Brats". Last night, every doggone aisle had screaming, whining and loud talking children. I couldn't escape them and am one step from crazy lady status because I caught myself murmuring "shut UP, shut up".
Then this morning I walked right into a closed door. Sprang out of bed with the clock alarm blaring and bounced off the door. Thank goodness I didn't break my nose but I bet that was a funny sight.
Which brings me to this, I need to make a pact with a couple of you. Need to find a partner to make sure that I off myself before I become a drooling idiot. I will start stockpiling medication and pills if you assure me that you'll help me make sure that I ingest them before I get too senile to remember.
My seamstress lady told me that you know you are getting old and losing it when you put unrefrigerated items in the refrigerator. Ruh ro. I did that. Recently. THEN yesterday I hear that Alzheimer's may begin DECADES before obvious symptoms appear.
It is matter of months before the cat ends up in the 'frig.
Childless, by intelligent design,
The floor recognizes Miss diephenna:
RESOLVED: Since the women in my family kill their men young and live to a ripe old bitter age, imposing on remaining family, and
RESOLVED: since I, too, am childless by well-considered choice and
RESOLVED: consequently will have no family on which to impose when I hit my 90's (with another decade or two to go until the Final Reward),
THEREFORE I'm totally in on that Drooling Idiot Prevention Plan (that would be DIPP).
Hey, if we can gather up enough folks who are game, we could throw a party with Jim Jones Kool-Aid and make an afternoon of it! Medicated Jell-o shots, anyone?
Can someone shout, "Amen"? (amens heard)
Did you know that mad cow disease (or KJD, whatever the human version is) can masquerade as Alzheimer's? Maybe, Leezra, you're feeling decrepit because all that bone meal you've been gardening with has given you mad cow disease. Pwwwaaaaa haaaaaa aaaaaaa. (Laughing at the idea of you gardening with bone meal; NOT the idea of you with mad cow disease, and certainly NOT the idea of a cat in the refrigerator, which would be a very very bad thing.) But come to think of it, mad cow disease WOULD explain the bumping-into-doors thing.
Miss d, who stands to live, unwillingly and incompetently, into triple digits
Discussion continues with Kay's time at the podium:
I'm keepin' it simple since you bitches articulate on a much higher level than me. See? . . . I don't even think that makes since!
1. I'm in for digesting any kind of pharmaceuticals to avoid DIPP.
2. Personally, I want to "free" myself way before 90 . . . my cue will be when I start getting over-ripe tomato peel skin. You know . . . the kind that bruises way too easy.
And Leezra - I see nothin' wrong with keeping your pussy cold.
With a show of hands, Dawn concurs with the recommendation:
I can't agree more with the DIPP plan, I'm SO IN!!!
A guy in my band works for a cyanide plant (not sure if I'm making that up but I remember asking him if he could get me some for my future). He looked at me confused and told me all I needed was a .38. I thought he was being insensitive. The last thing I need is a clumsy spasm that leaves me alive and faceless. Nah, I want to do it right.
Will begin the garage sale hunt for the perfect DIPP jar. I think I should start soon because, like Leezra I'm showing early signs of senility.
Have any of you seen (Grey Gardens) that documentary about Jackie O's crazy aunts? You've GOT to get it. It proves that you can be crazy with other crazy people and live in harmony. Leezra, get your sofa bed ready!
Skitzo Leezra clarifies the proposed DIPP plan:
Ya know how old ladies collect loose buttons in a jar? Well, us bitches need to start a DIPP med jar.
LOVIN' the idea of us slurpin' up some Guyana juice Jell-O shots. What a way to go.
I'm gonna leave my goodbye message etched on the lawn, spelled out with gasoline.
not yet watery,
Miss diephenna assigns tasks:
Hey, let's start an agenda:
Step One: Dawn scours garage sales for DIPP jar.
Step Two: Everyone saves appropriate medications for DIPP jar.
Step Three: Set DIPP JellO date. (We can delegate specific JellO tasks as the date nears.)
Step Four: Stop by gas station for lawn message
Step Five: Suck down the shots and TGIO ("O" = Over)
Lynn provides seal of approval:
Leezra, I will happily be there with you in our twilight years, wearing a gorgeous satin bed jacket and sipping sherry. Who cares if we are drooling....we will be free of dependents.