tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-310381012024-03-13T04:44:16.068-05:00Skitzo Leezra - Which Personality Am I Today?Sometimes bitter, sometimes tender but almost always opinionated
<a href="http://technorati.com/faves?sub=addfavbtn&add=http://skitzoleezrastudio.blogspot.com"><img src="http://static.technorati.com/pix/fave/tech-fav-1.png" alt="Add to Technorati Favorites"></a>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.comBlogger456125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-9972259193122360312013-06-20T22:55:00.001-05:002013-06-20T22:55:22.281-05:00I am aliveHello good people.<br />
I am not dead but my computer has become dyslexic! <br />
Words and texts rearrange themselves with free will and I learn to curse in stronger and creative compound words.<br />
Will seek computer repair soon and converse soon.<br />
(And yes, that man of mine is still hanging around.)SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-63369536198391717502012-09-21T07:00:00.000-05:002012-09-21T07:00:12.959-05:00This is just a testSo, Bachelor #1 has now become #1 Boyfriend, what with the exchange of the "L" word plus his gifts of water meter motif stuff and lip balms and all. Yes, he knows what makes me happy. Anywho, we were feeling especially close when we both revealed that interests of the past had made recent contact.<br />
<br />
I received 2 texts from 2 previous suitors as did he.<br />
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"I think men can smell a commitment/challenge," I supposed.<br />
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"No, it's a karma test," #1 Boyfriend said.<br />
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"What's that," I ask as I tilt my head like a super hearing canine.<br />
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"You don't hear from someone until you have someone else in your life. It is a test to see if you are okay with it."<br />
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Check out the deep thought from #1BF!! (Say it like Jules in <i>Pulp Fiction</i>.)<br />
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Two texts and phone numbers now deleted from my cell phone. Yay, Karma!SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-51910641767437184482012-09-19T07:00:00.001-05:002012-09-19T07:00:21.628-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyal918AGAFyVR6JJnfsXnWiwg9UxlfxzfqMZNaOtrdLipBlINY4MJobr4qchOGhgUSw-Mv9Gn3qx1Qhw0VPy7StsxUfbgLl_q-u3C1qg-k9I4oyS3Jdajzq5rnfCB1Nqm8nE/s1600/the_dating_game_logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyal918AGAFyVR6JJnfsXnWiwg9UxlfxzfqMZNaOtrdLipBlINY4MJobr4qchOGhgUSw-Mv9Gn3qx1Qhw0VPy7StsxUfbgLl_q-u3C1qg-k9I4oyS3Jdajzq5rnfCB1Nqm8nE/s320/the_dating_game_logo.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I referred to my beau as "Bachelor #1" in front of my brother Rollo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Oh God! WHY are you calling him THAT?" Rollo asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Because it sounds better than Future Ex-Boyfriend," was my sarcastic but enthusiastic retort.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"No, WHY are you calling him Bachelor # ONE?"</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Because he has moved to the top of the list," I explain but wonder why I am doing so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"No, no, no, don't you know calling him Bachelor #1 is no good?" Rollo continued.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Why not? Isn't #1 the best?" I ask.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"No, that's what they<i> want </i>you to think. Bachelor #1 always has something wrong with him. Bachelor #1 never wins."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is from the same guy that made me watch Johnny Quest and Star Trek. When did Rollo watch "The Dating Game"? Who knew that he cracked the code? </span></div>
<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-84451546244464204972012-09-15T22:54:00.002-05:002012-09-15T22:59:32.985-05:00My mom said<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mom recently said that some parents push their kids into doing what they themselves are too cowardly to do. The word "cowardly" caught my attention.</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If a mom pushes her daughter in pageants, why isn't she competing in the "Mrs" pageants? </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">If the dad goads his son into sports, why isn't he training for a competition?</span><br />
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-84922709724810470682012-08-16T07:00:00.000-05:002012-08-16T07:00:07.199-05:00Read all about it<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chrysanthemum checked into her hotel room, dropped her luggage and spied this </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">magazine provided. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFhzuowraDXbFr_x1bK0SFLpkMKlnnaaurUGgHb4Nbx0wADYXMIt6JgBzlFtbQ2R-sHuUhhpdwXkdMXPUjTlerWfD1kOWQtb_fKTyuukM3195H4N6HGuKEeFci9Id-N6O2NCZ/s1600/mag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFhzuowraDXbFr_x1bK0SFLpkMKlnnaaurUGgHb4Nbx0wADYXMIt6JgBzlFtbQ2R-sHuUhhpdwXkdMXPUjTlerWfD1kOWQtb_fKTyuukM3195H4N6HGuKEeFci9Id-N6O2NCZ/s320/mag.jpg" width="263" /></a></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Wow.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">WHORE magazine?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fill in your joke now.</span> <br />
<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-22296101295007833872012-08-14T23:34:00.000-05:002012-08-14T23:34:00.877-05:00Love your neighbor<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So last week my neighbors invited me to drink a beer with them on their back porch. We chatted and caught up and then the conversation turned to health, old age and quality of life issues.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tommy said, "Y'know, I always wanted to die having sex."</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">He cast a sideways glance at his wife and muttered, "but I guess <i>that's</i> not gonna happen."</span></div>
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-36140257798022866492012-08-09T07:00:00.000-05:002012-08-09T07:00:05.499-05:00Lessons from a bachelorRemembered an observation from Bachelor #23.<br />
When I go on the meet-and-greet dates from online contacts, I ask all the uncomfortable questions. Get it out there and let's see how it goes. Mind you, I <i>know</i> I am getting a one-sided story. <br />
<br />
Anywho, I asked Bachelor #23 why he thought his marriage failed and what he wanted out of future relationships. <br />
"Appreciation," he revealed.<br />
<br />
Tell me more, I urge.<br />
Bachelor #23 said he gave and gave but his best and consistent care wasn't appreciated and eventually not even acknowledged by his ex-wife. While he elaborated, my mind wandered to past relationships and I understood exactly what he meant.<br />
<br />
It's nice to be appreciated. It feels good.<br />
<br />
My wish for you today:<br />
I am hoping you are being appreciated and aware enough to know your blessings.<br />
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-39274029988642079522012-07-24T21:33:00.000-05:002012-08-08T20:35:12.567-05:00Dating advice from the bachelorsRemember I told ya that I went on a bunch of dates when I signed on to the dating website?<br />
<br />
A couple of seasoned guys actually offered a newbie like me some advice. (NO, jackholes, not what you're thinking!)<br />
<br />
Anywho, Bachelor #11 told me to never trust a man who has never married. Hold up, I say, I've never married. Should <i>I</i> not be trusted?
Nope, Bachelor #11 explains, any halfway decent guy that isn't even paying attention will have a woman trying to get him down the aisle. If said dude is 40 years old or older and never married, then he has absolutely nothing to offer because he would be taken already.<br />
<br />
It <i>kinda</i> makes sense.<br />
<br />
Bachelor #19 advised me to not let a guy move in with me. Puh-lease, so not gonna happen but elaborate please, Bachelor #19. He said no real man would need to move in because he would already have his own place. And if he didn't, he's a ne'er-do-well or a moocher. Okay, he didn't actually use the moniker of "ne'er-do-well" but I like seeing it in print.<br />
<br />
And Bachelor #1 offered this insight when I told him I needed to tear down the wall that both protects and isolates me.<br />
<br />
"Just use a door," he said, "Let the wall protect you and open the door to who you want."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVqGgfOYGHQCq9gcWsp16QfgeUAsWqOUaGBcjdaSTYNYmqtEsQzauDnEnh5qm-QwTcmoWVjNYvO-mQMSYz5-YxYNa5_rpdlX9oV1wIG1wZ1Tu_pqW8Bcm2Eo0tEhH7ymyGCGV/s1600/door-chain-haha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVqGgfOYGHQCq9gcWsp16QfgeUAsWqOUaGBcjdaSTYNYmqtEsQzauDnEnh5qm-QwTcmoWVjNYvO-mQMSYz5-YxYNa5_rpdlX9oV1wIG1wZ1Tu_pqW8Bcm2Eo0tEhH7ymyGCGV/s320/door-chain-haha.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cue your favorite Jim Morrison tune now.SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-10956276774328897892012-07-20T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-20T07:00:06.469-05:00What time is it?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3YYSdCfa2d1bg_5o-U8Kk4jJ_koZzNNgrzdTjxAHQRl3FcxZLXsT6v6bdiXyq38K_lRKw-oxyvajlCVceqtEVPBTGz6BlNs0EmhqoAAgqqXio3jyvlhdNQfcuamthDZw1LFc/s1600/wine+thirty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3YYSdCfa2d1bg_5o-U8Kk4jJ_koZzNNgrzdTjxAHQRl3FcxZLXsT6v6bdiXyq38K_lRKw-oxyvajlCVceqtEVPBTGz6BlNs0EmhqoAAgqqXio3jyvlhdNQfcuamthDZw1LFc/s400/wine+thirty.jpg" /></a></div>
It's wine:thirty, ya'll!SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-13671818874174785622012-07-19T20:20:00.000-05:002012-07-19T20:20:06.258-05:00Remembering seeing this bumper sticker?From back in the day?
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4cgRF45Az1Iau-xy1d3W2TMKcetN6xTX1ZxsXpLi01N4-QdTlI1_eXS6HfKrlnA3uCEwZbMlsA-aRbJXiOGu6TgrNcJTuU3orHfsZJajAZF3Lzl8CSMJ9JeN1R-yiI1Gqdjf/s1600/gas+grass+or+ass.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4cgRF45Az1Iau-xy1d3W2TMKcetN6xTX1ZxsXpLi01N4-QdTlI1_eXS6HfKrlnA3uCEwZbMlsA-aRbJXiOGu6TgrNcJTuU3orHfsZJajAZF3Lzl8CSMJ9JeN1R-yiI1Gqdjf/s320/gas+grass+or+ass.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
As a small child, I remember not fully understanding it but also knowing not to ask for clarification.SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-13751402278173714452012-07-13T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-13T07:00:05.410-05:00Be still, my heartBachelor #1 was being sincere and complimentary when he said hanging with me was fun and that I was special. Being the unromantic wisenheimer that I am, I snorted at the mention of "special". <br />
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Catching my reaction, he said, "Don't let any let anyone tell that you can't rock a bike helmet."<br />
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<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<i>~ ~ swoon ~ ~</i></div>
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I loves me a smart ass. <i><br /></i></div>
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-84827324143372086092012-07-12T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-12T07:00:10.026-05:00Like I said<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLlPkVNKtFE_iG1KatbXmiBPNEANI-KPWWsEKWB6ssozcP_fQBnc_tqqtINuKYnx1WfmrwcbqO7_1aEYM-kJ8neWQt0shgV3afijYd0ik0WIs4hm0Q4LRhak6ChFe-LHVVwAi/s1600/photo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLlPkVNKtFE_iG1KatbXmiBPNEANI-KPWWsEKWB6ssozcP_fQBnc_tqqtINuKYnx1WfmrwcbqO7_1aEYM-kJ8neWQt0shgV3afijYd0ik0WIs4hm0Q4LRhak6ChFe-LHVVwAi/s320/photo.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-47345947537812875312012-07-11T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-11T07:00:17.033-05:00What?Bachelor #1 and I didn't spend the Independence Day holiday together. We wondered why later. I thought he had plans. He figured I had a family commitment but didn't call because he heard <i>my own damn words</i> I said on our first date "how can I miss you if you don't go away?" in regards to having my space and not being smothered.<br />
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So, wait, Bachelor #1 listens <i>and heeds</i>?<br />
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He's gonna get kicked out of the Man Club if he keeps that up. <br />
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Or I had better watch my flippant attitude. SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-36025641661719450492012-07-09T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-09T07:00:07.339-05:00Happy shit sandwich Monday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGKrU8Vtnqas2KBcBSGqZs2nzDIx36IWeEI9iTSAIaWe9w_aQThc3oGBmaXANA-ZUZTiyEepRU07d3Vn4Zbr0P6cI56bmfhH4BiW1p_XhOHbL4cYoh9B0tkzhbjCl-8ZhvZSr/s1600/spoilers.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGKrU8Vtnqas2KBcBSGqZs2nzDIx36IWeEI9iTSAIaWe9w_aQThc3oGBmaXANA-ZUZTiyEepRU07d3Vn4Zbr0P6cI56bmfhH4BiW1p_XhOHbL4cYoh9B0tkzhbjCl-8ZhvZSr/s400/spoilers.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-38494515929867161092012-07-06T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-06T07:00:08.534-05:00The SecretAn old timer customer bragged that he and his wife were married for over 50 years.<br />
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Wow, that's impressive, I reply.<br />
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Before you are too impressed, he tells me, I worked out-of-town most of the time.<br />
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So, that's the secret to a long marriage, I ask? Long periods of time away from each other?<br />
<br />
Well, that and direct deposit, he admits.SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-89380982916711483732012-07-05T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-05T07:00:11.128-05:00If it itchesI wondered aloud if my boobs itched, did it mean they were growing, as my late great aunt Fay used to tell me?
My male friend said, "Well, it certainly doesn't apply to crotch regions. Otherwise, I'd have a freaking beanstalk growing outta my pants."
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cFOU89zG1ZZb27G_gFCDYqkwL3rcMREM4E5AnPsBrNyVJndPg65blCHIVkLGmja0Vodhe7z29zSEO48zAfVVsYDfKL4vG154ZqnE5fo1gi5lAHfVyQHLLZfi8DjIsDmwIepw/s1600/beanstalk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cFOU89zG1ZZb27G_gFCDYqkwL3rcMREM4E5AnPsBrNyVJndPg65blCHIVkLGmja0Vodhe7z29zSEO48zAfVVsYDfKL4vG154ZqnE5fo1gi5lAHfVyQHLLZfi8DjIsDmwIepw/s400/beanstalk.jpg" /></a></div>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-58100634598131269072012-07-04T07:00:00.000-05:002012-07-04T07:00:20.649-05:00Duh of the day<a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/gossip/anderson-cooper-kathy-griffin-immensely-proud-good-friend-warns-careful-article-1.1107002">Anderson Cooper is gay</a>.
Really.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0eLhKkP2LpRbG07xGeSgpIzkZ2VHhmoubGzRFUmXVuoICoD5r2D937RZ0YmlrKijS2nN1X2eZ9vtlVtxabFal0n48qCRqjYdwHIEVygZAR-2-OJI9TuzT0pysSak1KspBing4/s1600/anderson+and+cathy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="399" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0eLhKkP2LpRbG07xGeSgpIzkZ2VHhmoubGzRFUmXVuoICoD5r2D937RZ0YmlrKijS2nN1X2eZ9vtlVtxabFal0n48qCRqjYdwHIEVygZAR-2-OJI9TuzT0pysSak1KspBing4/s400/anderson+and+cathy.jpg" /></a></div>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-37774369209707294552012-07-03T19:21:00.001-05:002012-07-03T19:21:47.054-05:00LaterI thought you were already dead.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8kOxZtf-zOth6T-OqFscznUQyeJTwkbBTI_zNbRhIoZjZ50fLN2mIF1R_VbjRmynBT4tvukyca7dBEoZjIuYvwNmmM6NS_XGHw9RH3NIFUnvZNfdkDJmBSbNLkQpHT5Mw2V2/s1600/andy_griffith__1229470303_7414_jpeg_300x1000_q85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="350" width="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8kOxZtf-zOth6T-OqFscznUQyeJTwkbBTI_zNbRhIoZjZ50fLN2mIF1R_VbjRmynBT4tvukyca7dBEoZjIuYvwNmmM6NS_XGHw9RH3NIFUnvZNfdkDJmBSbNLkQpHT5Mw2V2/s400/andy_griffith__1229470303_7414_jpeg_300x1000_q85.jpg" /></a></div>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-80550334273690369082012-06-23T17:37:00.002-05:002012-06-23T18:56:52.754-05:00Last night<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">a herd of us went to the Foreigner concert and heard some blasts from the past. As in,<i> cassette format </i>past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ezUwidkfE6vm1AiO_YFZgj_IAIuqfBCCuIWeH7Q44x44hIo0amPMdKnvCxtw-TE3MSFcfTca1Q4ll13EKD_kVNyP5U1a4BC3SlyUCsIXH5NRB1GNEvuOYsYVoPwAQHHrGQGg/s1600/foreigner+concert.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ezUwidkfE6vm1AiO_YFZgj_IAIuqfBCCuIWeH7Q44x44hIo0amPMdKnvCxtw-TE3MSFcfTca1Q4ll13EKD_kVNyP5U1a4BC3SlyUCsIXH5NRB1GNEvuOYsYVoPwAQHHrGQGg/s320/foreigner+concert.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Feels Like the First Time</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Cold As Ice</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Double Vision</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Dirty White Boy </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Head Games</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Urgent</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Waiting for a Girl Like You</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I Want to Know What Love Is</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Hot Blooded </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Then the guitarist threw out his remaining guitar picks. Because I have superior Mardi Gras training, I spied a pick on the ground and placed my foot over it until I could bend over to retrieve it. I offered it to Maura but she didn't want it. As the crowd filed out, an older gentleman was bent over and looking on the ground nearby. Enboldened by a couple gin and tonics, I asked "Whatchalookin' for?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"I was hoping to find a guitar pick," was his answer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Here ya go. It's yours," I say, as I fish the pick out of my pocket.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Do you have another one?" he asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"What the FUCK, dude? Seriously, you want me to produce another pick out of thin air for you?" was my smart ass reply.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Um, no, I meant, did you keep one for yourself? Because I didn't want to take it if it was your only one," he responded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Feeling like a super bad person, I mumble, "Oh. Sorry. No, you can have it."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the life of Skitzo Leezra, even nice comes with a tinge of bitch.</span></div>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-10433833988863559132012-06-13T22:14:00.000-05:002012-06-13T22:14:42.641-05:00Dating observations<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Wrote a post called <a href="http://skitzoleezra.blogspot.com/2012/06/okay-tale-from-my-online-dating.html">"Another One Bites The Dust"</a> and received supportive comments from <a href="http://teresaevangeline.blogspot.com/">Teresa Evangeline</a>, Giddy99 and <a href="http://louisianabelleforever.blogspot.com/">Louisiana Belle</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Teresa Evangeline said she "took herself out of the dating
pool and someone would have to be dropped in her lap or left on her
doorstep to make anything even possibly happen." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Well, I said the same exact thing for the last 11 years and absolutely nothing happened. Read it again, <i>nothing</i>. Nooooooooothing. Are we clear? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And I realized another 11 years would pass unless I became a little more vulnerable, a bit more approachable, a lot less isolated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It's been an experience, these past few months. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Thank God I don't daddy issues. Three, count 'em, three guys were in hot pursuit only to disappear off the face of the earth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Chrysanthemum's cyber boyfriend reminds her all men are pigs. And she and I supposed their only time spent out of the sty was when they pretended to be charming. But enough of the men bashing. Believe it or not, my cyber contacts have given me new faith in the other gender. Plenty of 'em out there looking for real relationships.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I am weary. Gonna take a hiatus from the dating and blog more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Come back now, y'hear?</span>SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-15533164553803103012012-06-11T00:05:00.000-05:002012-06-11T00:05:11.370-05:00A funny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://st.houzz.com/simages/905334_0_4-5870-contemporary-kitchen-faucets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://st.houzz.com/simages/905334_0_4-5870-contemporary-kitchen-faucets.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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So I found my mom a super high-end ($$$) kitchen sink faucet but she had a problem with it last week. Being the super smart broad that she is, she used her Iphone to video the operation or lack thereof.</div>
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I then forwarded the video, via text, to the faucet rep with a note "my mom sent me this video last night. Take a look at it and tell me what you think". </div>
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Before I could put down the cell phone, he returned the message, "That's not the same video your mom sent <i>me</i> last night."</div>
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-5314794498721017812012-06-09T21:55:00.000-05:002012-06-09T21:56:05.334-05:00Another one bites the dust<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Okay, a tale from my online dating adventures -- </div>
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Flirted and texted with a guy for a couple weeks. We met at a local bar where he arrived first and graciously ordered glasses of chardonnay. Though a fan of red wine, I was impressed by his take-charge attitude and happy to try something new. The wine was good and as was the conversation. We found we grew up in the same area. We shared a couple online dating stories and past relationship history. Two hours later, we remarked how much fun we had. A quick kiss and goodnight. His upcoming weekend was scheduled time with his teenaged daughters. A few more days of fun flirting via text and then the following weekend is upon us. </div>
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What are your weekend plans, he asked. </div>
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A trip to Destin, Florida to celebrate <a href="http://skitzoleezra.blogspot.com/search/label/chrysanthemum">Chrysanthemum's</a> birthday with friends. </div>
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When are you leaving? </div>
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This afternoon I will drive to Houston to catch a plane.</div>
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He said he would love to see just for a minute so he could kiss me goodbye.</div>
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Sounds good, he asks me to meet him at 5:00 in the parking lot of a business near both of our workplaces.</div>
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5:01 I arrive to the parking lot. No other cars.</div>
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5:05 I sent a "where are you?" text.</div>
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5:15 No response. I leave.</div>
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Two hour drive to Houston and delayed flight. No text, no call. </div>
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Imagining phone issues, getting hung up at work, wanting to know what the hell is going on . . . all the stupid crazy shit that women do . . .I finally send this text a couple days later.</div>
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"Hello Rufus. It's Skitzo. Are we not talking? I understand if you couldn't get away Friday but I don't understand the lack of communication. What am I missing?"</div>
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Two days later, he responds with a text.</div>
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"Too much to type . . . will have to explain through conversation . . ."</div>
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Ok, I send back. Just making sure you were receiving my texts.</div>
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NEVER heard from him again. That was a month and a half ago. </div>
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Mind you, better for him to flake early and reveal himself but it is just so curious . . . .</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What, dear reader, do YOU suppose happened?</span><br />
<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-23971202833179960922012-06-08T22:36:00.002-05:002012-06-08T22:36:24.042-05:00Coming out of my cave<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Is there anyone still out there? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did I stay in my cave too long?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other demands and commitments have prevented the Skitzo Leezra blog spew but hopefully I've remembered a few things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wanna hear another online dating story?</span></div>
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<br />SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-57385100382883118482012-02-22T07:00:00.000-06:002012-02-22T07:00:08.414-06:00What did I just say?Y'know how your family or group uses words with a funny back story? Or you purposely mispronounce?<br /><br />Example: Beyonce' proudly showed MTV Cribs her place and said "As you can see, I like <span style="font-style: italic;">dramatical</span> things". Well, thank you, Beyonce' for that little gem. <br /><br />Or, instead of saying it correctly, my New Orleans pals call our favorite St. Charles bar the "Col-youmns".<br /><br />Anywho, the immature 12 year boy in my head laughs each time I hear "beef stroganoff" because my friend Fergie always pronouncs it "beef stroking off" (euphenism for male masturbation). Sure, mildly funny but Fergie was once a college-aged child nursery employee when a mom asked what the daily lunch was, Fergie answered "beef stroking off" and she didn't realize her gaffe until the mom's face registered shock. <br /><br />Hoping your daily lunch special is <span style="font-style: italic;">dramatical</span>,<br />I am,<br />Skitzo LeezraSkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31038101.post-8057905528981463432012-01-10T07:00:00.000-06:002012-01-10T07:00:06.279-06:00Don't wanna<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3lnLVSJMwErW9nXNOiQEgZooIYi2hNpwbw6e4pvsD986hyphenhyphenDkbv-PfDIUv6nKsK363ztAxYaZt-xEkYo49uT_o5eqa2FBwuzJF0NfhXxO2b0Owp11utmEpCdgXK_n3h1ngavY/s1600/angry_baby.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3lnLVSJMwErW9nXNOiQEgZooIYi2hNpwbw6e4pvsD986hyphenhyphenDkbv-PfDIUv6nKsK363ztAxYaZt-xEkYo49uT_o5eqa2FBwuzJF0NfhXxO2b0Owp11utmEpCdgXK_n3h1ngavY/s400/angry_baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695376240533469858" border="0" /></a><br />If you check out my craft blog at <a href="http://skitzoleezrastudio.blogspot.com/">Skitzo Leezra Studio</a>, you'll see <a href="http://skitzoleezrastudio.blogspot.com/search/label/baby">baby gifts</a> lovingly handmade by me but what you won't hear from me is how much fun I had at a baby shower because this bitch doesn't go to baby showers. The too-honest personality in my head frankly tells new mothers that I'd rather take an ass beating than to hang with a bunch of yentas telling their horrifying delivery stories. The breeder ladies usually let me off the hook when I promise a cute gift.<br /><br />"But you would love it!" is usually a cue of the opposite. <br /><br />Years ago, my friends wanted me to join them in for a male stripper shows. If you <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> knew me, you'd know I find it morally reprehensible, tacky and besides, I way too cheap to give money to gyrating greasy men. Sex toy parties? No way. Lingerie bridal shower? Don't look for me there. Just because I have a sailor mouth doesn't mean I enjoy tawdry activities, ya skanks.<br /><br />Alternately, have received pressure to attend an activity of zero interest, be it a pottery party or paint studio party. Being crafty doesn't mean I want to paint-by-the-numbers crap. "I can't attend" becomes "that's not my thing" when met with resistance. Why? Is my rejection a lack of validation for other's good time? Am I such fun that a good time can't be had if I'm not there? Probably.<br /><br />Let's respect our differences.<br />Don't wanna go.<br />Don't make me hurt your feelings.SkitzoLeezrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15484609726259148184noreply@blogger.com3