When I see blood, I usually faint

But one time, the sight of blood made me laugh.
Hard.
So hard that I almost fainted.

Back in the early 1990's or so, Chrysanthemum (Lynn) came for a Mardi Gras weekend visit. After drinking all day and standing outside after the parades had ended, she and I got our eyes stuck on a New Orleans water meter cover.

For such a utilitarian object, it is quite beautiful. She and I pondered alternate uses for them, like really cool stepping stones or rugged kitchen counter trivets . . . before we could finish our 40 ouncers of beer, we were trying to pry it from the sidewalk. Nope, a kitchen spatula eventually did the trick. We did have the presence of mind to steal MY cover because it would shift any suspicion from me. Well, it made sense at the time. But even in our drunkenness, safety was key. The open hole in the ground was a hazard so we rolled up a 24 pack beer box and wiggled it into the now uncovered hole. The box nicely protruded from the hole and alerted others to the danger. We laughed and giggled as we carried the heavy cover to her car.

The following Monday I was relaxing in my apartment when my boyfriend entered with a pant leg rolled up, a nasty gash on his shin and blood tricking down to his socks.

"Some idiot stole your water meter cover!"

Laughter~~

"What are you laughing at? I parked and walked around the back of my truck and my foot went down the hole!"

More laughter~~

"I am lucky I didn't break my goddamned leg!"

Shrieks of laughter~~endless giggles.

Finally, I was able to sputter out, "Didn't you see the box?"

"WHAT box? What is wrong with you? I almost broke my leg and someone stole your cover!"

It took forever before I could tell him that Chrysanthemum absconded with the cover and I aided and abetted her with the theft and no, I couldn't help him bandage his leg because blood makes me woozy.

I still laugh every time I remember this story.

A dress for the 5H Club

HeinousHideousHatefulHorrendousHorrible

~~submitted by Lynn

My new boyfriend

My friend Lynn and I refer to guys as our new boyfriends, usually with a specific sub-heading, as in my TV boyfriend, my RADIO boyfriend, my MOVIE boyfriend, etc. I have a new BOOK boyfriend. He is married but no matter. His name is Tyler Cowen and he is the author of "Discover Your Inner Economist: Use Incentives to Fall in Love, Survive Your Next Meeting, and Motivate Your Dentist"
He plays a version of my Sears Wish book game, selecting art for yourself and asking why. Tyler claims, when visiting a museum or art gallery, "that dealing with the scarcity of our attention is more important" than being so sophisticated that we think the Sears Wish book game to be crass or materialistic.
PLUS, my new book boyfriend wrote that putting the toilet seat down is a symbolic recognition of his honey's value. Awww, who couldn't love a romantic guy like that?

Christmas in July

My friend Lynn recently attended a redneck wedding shower and heard exclamations and instructions to the bride to look inside the box and examine each piece. Curiosity piqued, Chrysanthemum tore herself from nipping the sherry to see this priceless gift. A kitty cat nativity scene. Oh Fuh Gawd!

The baby Jesus? Is he a sweet sleeping baby? Nope, it's a kitten. Order yours now! Not a feline fancier? A dog version is available, too.

You're welcome, I am glad to help you with your holiday pre-landfill gift list. Be sure to order the kitty version for your friend SkitzoLeezra! Yes, I really want one.

Dog Nativity
$14.99
Celebrate the true meaning of the season with an endearing sculptural Christmas pageant. This 9-pc. set includes the Holy Family, the Three Kings, shepherds and an angel played by a variety of dogs of different breeds. Includes Golden Retriever, German Shepherd, Pug, Boxer, Cocker Spaniel and many more. Crafted of polyresin. Figures measure between 2"H and 5"H.

Get in your Fraidy Hole

This report from my buddy Lynn:

Living in North Alabama, you become accustomed to the hundreds of severe thunderstorm warnings, tornado warnings and tornado watches. Here in Trinity, AL, we are lucky enough to be in "tornado alley" and know the drills all too well. If you live in the city limits you are lucky enough to have sirens going off at all hours of the day and night. But if you live outside the city limits.....the country to some...you have to rely on television weather reports and your handy weather radio. After sleeping through a tornado that touched down less than a mile from us as few weeks ago, we invested in one of those horrible little weather radios. It sounds a deafening alarm to alert you of even a thunderstorm. While I am happy to have something to wake me up (I am the only one that hears this deafening alarm), I really don't care about thunderstorms. I just want to know when I need to be listening for something that sounds like a "TRAIN"!!!

On Saturday night, we were having a round of severe weather. We were still awake and watching television, so we watched and listened intently for instructions from Dan Satterfield AKA Dan the Man, the local meteorologist. Like any weatherman, he was just beside himself. He had Doppler this and Doppler that, 3-D imagery from inside the storm cell, maps that could track its exact time of arrival on your street to within 15 seconds. Now Dan the Man is know around here for always alerting the kids that might be home alone as to what they should do. He always instructs them to get their "helments" on (football, bike, hockey, it doesn't matter what kind) and get in the bathtub. When he says, "Kids, get your helments on and get in the bathtub", you know it is serious business. Well, Saturday night at 11:30pm, when no children should be up watching the weather, Dan the Man instructs us to do something new!!!

Dan the Man announces," Everyone, get your shoes on and go get in your "Fraidy Hole!" My what? I looked at Donald and asked, "Did he just say Fraidy Hole?" Yep. Fraidy Hole. What the hell is your Fraidy Hole? Where is it located? Do we no longer put on our helments since we are gonna put on shoes instead? Did we miss the original episode that told us who, what, when, and where the Fraidy Hole is? Or was Dan the Man just have flashbacks from a childhood of molestation and the Fraidy Hole was his escape in his mind? Who knows? Fortunately, the tornado did not touch down in our area, because none of us new where the hell the Fraidy Hole was.

Signing off to find my Fraidy Hole,
I am,
Lynn in Alabammy


Ernest said:
"The Fraidy Hole....that's easy. It's right out back just to the left of the Meat Hole."

Me? I thought it was half past a monkey's ass.

I'm the Happiest Girl in the Whole USA

Hello All,

Last year I met a guy at a Mardi Gras parade and we drunkenly exchanged cell phone numbers and my friend recently asked if we ever talked again. Anywho, no, Jay or James or whatever his name was, did not call me. Uh, maybe telling Jay's friend that I would lick Jay's taint isn't the most charming of approaches. Cross that one off.

Maybe I could use Kay's bar opening line to Drew. "Are you gay? 'Cause you must be since you are wearing an earring and haven't once approached me or my friends and we are the cutest (and only) girls in here."

Lynn met her husband online by smartassing him and making fun of his post, what with the misspellings and lower case use. Ah, love. It is elusive.

Meanwhile I am in the happiest girl in the whole U.S.A.

Every single time that I hear of any relationship strife, I break into Donna Fargo's refrain of "I'm the happiest girl in the whole USA." Last month, my maritally challenged cousin said that she was gonna kick out the husband, lose 15 pounds and get a boob job and then maybe SHE could be the happiest girl in the whole USA. To which, I told her that was not possible, maybe she be the happiest girl on Maria Drive 'cause the happiest girl in the whole USA wouldn't have an ex-husband or divorce woes. So cousin will just have the settle for Happiest Girl on Maria Drive for now.

Content to have (only) a big kitty in my bed,
thrilled to do what I want, when I want,
satisfied to not have children nor in-laws,
enjoying my own silences and own noise,
glad that no one asks me how my day went,
I am,
The Happiest Girl in the whole USA

Transcript of DIPP meeting (Drooling Idiot Prevention Plan)

Discussion begun by SkitzoLeezra:
Hello All,
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,
I am,
SkitzoLeezra
---------------
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.
Crepe-y eyes,
not yet watery,
I am,
SkitzoLeezra

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.