This One's For The Girls

The following, minus things in parenthesis, was transcribed by me, but word-for-word said by Little Bug. She said she wanted to blog, so blog she shall.

When I woke up last morning, I watched TV. I made mommy and daddy move so I could be in there bed. Daddy put on Nick Jr and then went down the stairs. I took his pillows and spot. It was Miss Spider's Sunny Patch. It has spiders. It has those dandy flowers too. Those ones. Mommy was asleep still because she's got ears with water in them. She said it hurts. I got water in my ear from swimming. Daddy throws me in the water and I go under and it doesn't hurt. (I'm taking this as her telling me to suck it up.)

Mommy got me dressed in shorts that have pockets and are brown. My shirt has pink and blue, but it's a little teeny orange. I got to wear my TOMS. They're like grown-up shoes but they're really cool and I like them. They're my favorite shoes and that's all I'm gonna say. Mommy did my hair and she brushes it, like a little hurt because she always makes it tangled. Well, not her making it tangled, she makes it untangled like Rapunzel but I don't have girls to make it braids.

I went to get my new glasses with Daddy last week (yesterday). We were at Miss Shannon's house and I hit the wall and they broked. I hit my face really hard. They were very new and pink too. But now they're more new and still pink. Miss Shannon gave Mommy a towel that made my face feel better. And then Mommy said "How do you feel?" and I said "All better." That's why I got new glasses.

Grandma took me to lunch with Mommy at Chili's but I didn't have to eat a chili. I ate macaroni and cheese. And oranges. And lemonade. I'm the greatest eater. Sometimes I am awesome and so strong. I love everything and people. I can make my muscles big when I eat.

I play baseball and I always hit the ball with the bat. You have to run to the base really fast. Then you can run to the other base if your team hits that ball. I do it all the time. We're the red team (Diablos). Abigail is my best friend. She hits the ball really great. I like t-ball. Coach Daddy and Coach Mommy help us play the game. They always say "Line up! We're gonna give the other team high-fives!" and I say "Coach Mommy, are you Mommy now?" and she says "Not yet" or "Yes I am." You can't have Mommy and Daddy when they are Coach because it isn't fair to the kids. They don't have Mommy's and Daddy's who like baseball so I have to share.

I always clean my pets with my glove. I have to get rid of the hair or they get angry (they get angry because of the glove!). I give them hugs but I have to catch them. I always like to pet them. Daddy always helps me clean them in the bathtub or the pool. They don't like it because they are cats and they say "Meow, meow, meow" and I think they want to fight Daddy. Not me though. They love me. Gracie is my favorite kittie because she's a girl and doesn't bite me like Cali, the other girl.

The zoo is a big place where animals live. They have a lot of animals there (not really). There are giraffes, tigers and lions. The boy lion peed on the wall. They're really big. Giraffe's favorite food is leaves on the branches but we didn't see leaves. Tigers drink lots of milk (Tony the Tiger). Do you know what the monkey's like to do at the zoo? They like throwing their poop on people. They just do that because they're poop is yucky and they like it on people's arms and legs. Elephants put water in their noses to drink it. That's how the water got in Mommy's ears. I think she went to the zoo by herself and got sprayed. (When would I do that? I asked) Last night, you went to the zoo and that's why you made me go to bed.

Poppa is so silly. He always says "You are a Mudcat!" and I say "Nanny nanny boo boo, I'm not afraid of you" because I'm NOT! Then he chases me cause I grab his tail and he has to run cause I choke him (she does). I always choke him because it's the right thing to do because he tries to be bossy to me. Poppa is not my boss. Grandma says I am Poppa's boss. I'll always be his boss. He gives me a blessing before I go to sleep at night time. He says "In the name of the father, the son, holy ghost, amen" and then I wipe my nose off.

We go swimming with Daddy all the time because he says "One, Two, Three, GO!" and throws me in the sky and then I fall in the pool. I get water in my nose and I say "Daddy you got water in my nose!" and then we do it again. He laughs but it makes my nose have water and yuckies. Mommy goes swimming with us too but she doesn't throw me. Miss Shannon and Mr. Rob come to our house and go swimming with us. They bring Ava and Caitlyn and they are my best friends. They swim with me because swimming is good for kids. Caitlyn and my dad and Mr. Rob play volleyball but we have a new volleyball game with the floaters on it and I can play.

So, Grandma likes her flowers but the cats always get into it, inside AND outside, and Grandma doesn't like that. She always says "Now look what you did, you pooped in my flowers!" She made me a cactus garden with a turnel (turtle). It's a big garden. The cat's don't go in my garden cause then they'd say "Oh! I stuck my butt!"

My favorite show is Adventure Time. It has Jake and Finn and Jake called Finn a Butt Chicken! Okay so, Jake said in the library, Finn you come back here you Butt Chicken! And the Ice King said "Gunther! Are you blowing it up in there?!" and then Finn said "Man you're gross." Ice King took all the princesses body parts and made a princess that he didn't kidnap. He took Lumpy Space Princesses lumps and it was gross. Lumpy Space Princess is gross because she's lumpy. She sanged a song about her lumps for chumps. The Ice King was smelling something and it wasn't Gunther, it was the Ice King smelling! The Ice King turned into Finn. I think Jake said he was gonna find a lady for his laddy, but he didn't. Something else though, Finn was gonna marry a fire princess but she was evil and she gave him a smack on the face and said "You never do that again!" Finn is so brave.

I'm going to marry Spike. He will have brown hair and a black shirt and black pants and have brown shoes. He's very handsome and is my favorite boy that I will marry. We will have a pink dog with pink hair that talks and stands up. Daddy said "No way that's ba-nay-nay" but Mommy said I have to go to college first. I think I'll be an astronaut in college because outer space is for when you're older. Okay, so there's aliens there and they have eyes on top of their head and they need to talk to people in college and tell them they are aliens. Astronauts have rocket ships and they fly them, so I can do that. They have astronaut shoes and I like shoes a lot. 

I think that's all I want to say. It makes me tired to talk (not tired enough for a nap). You're my best friends and I love you.

Back to Tiffany:

That took almost an hour and a half to get out of her. I had to read things back to her, get her approval for the pictures and then she told me to start over. I actually started over once but the second time told her to kick rocks. You missed an amazing story about her Princess Castle and why she wants me to give it away and buy a bigger one. 

See ya Thursday!

Next Contestant

Today is the first, official Time Warp Tuesday. Saturday's blog about pets was a request, and it was one a Saturday, so it doesn't count. Today will also be a request of sorts. The Other Tiffany informed me that I never explained the story about when Instructor USA hit on me in front of my husband, and while it will only be going back a little under a year, that's where we are walking down memory lane too.

Funny story, Instructor USA's class was the first class I blogged. You can find it here. I only wrote about it once as I was not as dedicated to le blog as I am pretending to be now. I realize that any future blogs that reference Instructor USA's class of yester year will have you all at a disadvantage, but unless I go back and try to blog the entire class from memory, you'll just have to deal. And take this flashback and cherish it.

So week 4 of Instructor USA's intro to whatever class, I left class early. Not by much, maybe a half-hour, and let's be real, I only missed the Nazi's. I felt wicked sick and actually spent the next 30-45 minutes in the bathroom blowing chunks. They all left way before I did. I didn't think a thing of it (leaving early) as I had always gotten full credit for my participation and even sick, I still had more to say than, well, all of them. Turns out, I did not get full credit. I got 2 our of 4 points. Not a huge loss but anything that keeps me from my A+ is a huge loss. I asked him about it the following week and he said "Well, you left early."I informed him that it was leave early or cover the desk in a lovely shade of regurgitated Subway and this had no effect on him. I pulled out my last card and said "I only missed the part of the class where you stop teaching, surely that wasn't worth two points." You should have seen his face. Caught red handed. Or maybe caught mid-Goose step. So we worked out a deal, I could have my 2 points for my A+ if I went to his trial he was currently prosecuting.

I know what you're thinking, 2 points is not worth the gas to drive downtown or the cost of parking, but my 4.0 GPA used to be a little too important to me. I convinced Hubby to join me, and the next day, it was off to Federal Court we went. After being delayed by the geriatric security the Marshal service had hired, we entered the court room to discover the proceedings had started. I-USA was questioning a witness and I SHIT YOU NOT, turned to see us take our seats and did the wink and gun with this little fey wave. There's a jury in the box, a judge, and a witness on the stand and he does the wink and the gun. What. The. Fuck. I stifled my laugh.

The next 30 minutes was torture. The judge clearly hated the defense attorney, clearly. You'd have thought the guy took the judge's mother out for a nice steak dinner and never called her again. Ignoring the fact that the defendant was caught dead-to-rights transporting illegal aliens across the border, and ignoring the fact that this dude was being watched for weeks before, AND ignoring the fact that he had already confessed and reneged, his lawyer was garbage. The judged "shsshed" him on more than one occasion. His family sat on the left-side of the room and had to be "shsshed" by the bailiff because every time the judge treated the defense attorney like shit, they got all emotional. Maybe the lawyer was a family member as well.

So they FINALLY break for lunch and Hubby and I are thinking the same thing, he saw me so I'd get my 2 points, let's bounce. We make a beeline for the elevator and I-USA heads us off. I do the obligatory intro and I-USA is sizing up the Hubby. He then shakes my hand and holds it way too long and says (while looking straight at my breast), "Your wife is really quite a remarkable student. She's so brilliant. Really. You're a very, very lucky man." As I pulled my hand away from his vice-like grip, Hubby smiled and put his arm around my waste and said, "I know. She's great. And much too smart for University of Fictitious Bird." I snorted. Little Bug is too smart for University of Fictitious Bird.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was uncomfortable to say the least. Two of the jurors were in there with us, so I couldn't take the attention off of my breasts brain by talking about the trial. I-USA leered at them it the whole time. Hubby just stood there, one hand in his pocket like a GQ model, with a shit-eatin' grin on his face. I-USA asked if we were going to lunch and I quickly said we had plans. As I walked across the court-yard, hand-in-hand with Hubby, I turned back to see I-USA seriously staring at my ass with his hand touching his mouth in that way that screams sleazy. I had a full-body convulsion of disgust.

I am fully aware that there is not that much to the story, just a creeper who, now that he is sporting hair plugs and no brows, really stepped up his creeper game, but know this: The next Thursday class post you read, you'll see that creeper in your head. Much like Tobias from Arrested Development, except not funny.

I do feel like I phoned this in, so I apologize. I'll make up for it on Thursday.

Me And You And A Dog Named Boo

Some people are born to be pet owners. I am not one of those people. In fact, my track record with pets is sketchier than Obama's birth certificate (went there). I'm allergic to pet dander, I have barely enough patience for my daughter, and I forget to feed myself, let alone a helpless animal. All of these things considered, I have still owned my fair share of four-legged (and two-legged and no-legged) friends.

Oscar's 1-100 are my earliest I can remember. Little guppies that, as I learned later, were all replaced in secrecy by my grandmother when they would kick the bucket. I thought Oscar was the longest living guppie in the history of the world, but it turns out, Oscar died about once a week. I only found out when my grandmother became absent-minded and took me to the fish store with her.

After Oscar, there was Tessa, a golden Chow. She was a puppy and from what I remember of the brief time we had together, she was very loving. My mom was a single mother and worked all the time so my grandmother lived with us. She took care of myself and my older sister. And Tessa. That part was apparently intolerable. Tessa was allegedly stolen from our back yard one day when we were at school and Mom was at work. Allegedly. I think she left the gate open "on accident" and Tessa ran off. Or she drove her out to a grape vineyard and left. Or she killed her and cooked her to hide the evidence. Grandma, if you're reading this, I know.

Long after Mom had remarried and Grandma moved to Idaho, we got Ringo. He was a terrier mix and also a puppy. Super cute but very hyper. For some reason or another, he went to live with my Mexican (and slightly racist) Step-grandmother Pauline. She knew for damn sure that dog's name was Ringo but called him Gringo until the day she died. My Aunt Shirley got Gringo when Pauline died and took to calling him Gringy. On a recent mini-reunion she was informed of the dog's real name and I have never seen someone look more embarrassed. It's too late though, he only answers to Gringo or Gringy.

There were several birds over the years. Either two finches or two parakeets. Always named Bonnie and Clyde, even if they were two Bonnie's or two Clyde's. I thought I was a bird whisperer and tried to train them once. Those little beaks hurt like hell when the nip at you. Lesson learned, as I will never own another bird.

We lived in Idaho for a spell when I was in middle-school and I acquired a hamster. These girls I went to church with had bought him at the mall (four hours away...no joke) and when they realized they wouldn't be able to keep him, tried to kill it. Yes, I went to church with sociopaths. So it didn't die and it got pawned off on me. I think my mom took pity on me since we lived in a canyon in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere and I was hated by all the rednecks...thus I had no friends. I named him G. Gordon Liddy after that G. Gordon Liddy. He was great. He ran around in his ball, ate carrots, listened when I would come home from school crying about how evil a certain CUNT named Sarah was to me; he was the best friend I would never have in Idaho. Until I came home from school one day to find him curiously still in his cage. He was laying on the wheel on his back. I scooped him up and said "Time to play in your ball!" before realizing he was dead. Bits of carrots were still stuck in his teeth. I let out a sob as I screamed "He's dead!' I was inconsolable for a week or so. I buried him in the back yard under a failed attempt of a cross made of sticks. He'd still lie there today if my baby sister didn't go and dig him up to examine the decay. True story.

When we moved back to the Golden State, my dad had promised my baby sis that she could get a cat if she made the honor-roll. She did and after many attempts to back out of his promise, we went to the animal shelter and adopted Simon. He was a main-coon but had been abused and was the runt of his litter. His legs were so short, his belly rubbed on the ground. He was scared of everything, wouldn't cuddle, hid in dark spaces and had a fierce hiss. Around the same time we got Simon, my newly married older sister took in a stray kitten she named Otis Theodore Redding. He was orange and tiny and playful, the exact opposite of Simon. Well, she lived in an apartment and her landlord told her she couldn't keep him so she bawled her eyes out and we took him in. Simon HATED him at first, but I think once he realized that it kept us from him, he began to tolerate him.

Simon and Otis came to Texas with us and our furry family of two turned into three when Rumsfeld was acquired. The neighbor boys' grandmother's cat had kittens and my baby sister fell in love with the only one no one else wanted. Dad said we could keep him if we named him Kobe. We agreed but then Kobe raped that broad in Colorado and we named him after the motha fuckin' MAN, Donald Rumsfeld. Unfortunately, he didn't have the smarts of his namesake. He would walk into walls, pester the other two until they would be ready to kill him, and cried like a bitch. He still does all of that, come to think about it.

Rumsfeld

Simon had to be put down after the move. He had gotten so fat that he could barely move and he developed some allergy that caused ulcers on his lips. The cure was a cortisone shot that the vet said would cause diabetes and/or cancer. Our little, fat, asshole Simon was put to sleep with me and mom in the room. He didn't close his eyes when it happened and this caused nightmares of him staring at me and pleading for help.

After Rumsfeld, Zeke was added. He was orange like Otis, but not fixed. His balls were the size of half-dollars. It was pretty creepy. He got out one night and never came back. I later learned that the sociopaths across the street, in cahoots with this psycho Asian guy, tortured poor Zeke and then threw him out of a car window. Oh, as the car was moving. And driving on the Sun City's Mountain road. RIP Zeke. Know there is a special place in hell for people like that.


Graciella Elishaba, aka Gracie, was added next. She is, without a doubt, the Naomi Campbell of cats. Fierce and gorgeous, she walks the house like it's her runway. But then she'll spot a bird and snatch it out of the sky, ripping it's head off, and then leaving it as a present by the door. If she were human, I would not let her posses a cell phone.

Gracie

When I lived in Germany, my pet skills were equally as awful. Hubby and I decided we wanted a dog. He really wanted a black lab. I scanned the American classifieds and found an ad for a black lab mix. I took Hubby to the woman's house and what we saw before us was not a black lab. It was a beast of a dog, who knows what breed(s), but what was more disconcerting was the condition of this woman's house. It was hoarders before the show existed. Filth is not even the tip of the iceberg. I wanted to take the woman's child along with the dog. We took the dog out of pity and guilt and after a trip to a German groomer and a LOT of Euros, Mazzy (did not pick name) was looking better. We put Mazzy on a strict diet and he even started losing weight. But one day, Mazzy licked Little Bug and she got this odd rash on her hand. The doctor said it was probably an allergy, so we thought about it long and hard. After careful deliberation, we chose our human over our pet. I'm pretty confident we made the right choice.

Speaking of our human, she is bonded for life with a dog that is still in Germany. His name is Oscar and he's a Dachshund. He was our neighbor/boss/friend's dog and he was (and is) all kinds of cute. We doggy sat him a few times and he was always a pleasure to have over. Well, except one time. Right after Little Bug was born (or sometime after) we were watching Oscar and he was great the whole time. But when his daddy came to get him, he noticed a Ziploc baggie on the ground and in Oscar's mouth. It was the bag that contained Little Bug's umbilical cord. Yeah. Ew. It had just fallen off and I was planning on saving it, but Oscar needed it more I guess. It still makes me want to puke.

Oscar with his feline broham Rooney

When we PCSed to California, Hubby fell in love with a deer chihuahua named Samson that my older sister had...and hated. She told Hubby that if he didn't take Samson, she would have to take him to the pound where he would be murdered. Little Bug and Hubby couldn't allow this and now we love him like he's our son. Well, Hubby does. I tolerate his tiny ass.

Samson

When we came back to Texas, he turned into a cat. Otis, Gracie, and Rumsfeld all hated him, as did Nixon, an ugly orange bastard the baby sister had brought home while I was gone. Nixon hated everyone though. He and Little Bug used to go round for round. He'd scratch her, she'd pull his hair. He'd bite her, she'd choke him. I call her Elmira (from Tiny Toons) every time I think about it. The only cat who loved Samson was Cali. Another main-coon, but not a runt this time. She was also brought home by the baby sis and when she was a kitten, her and Samson would chase each other, wrestle, and cuddle for hours on end. Now she's grown and (thankfully) de-clawed but the meanest bitch you've ever met.

Cali

Otis and Nixon were recently given to the Humane society. In their advanced years they have taken to peeing on everything in sight. If it was left on the floor, it was getting pissed on. I had to throw out so many purses. When we went to the Humane Society, they were cuddling with each other in the cage like they were comforting one another. All of the workers kept gushing over how loving they were. Those bastards HATED each other. One last guilt trip for the road. Such Jews they were.

Otis and Nixon at the Humane Society

We had a few Suicide Beta Fish over the years. No exaggeration, every Beta we had met a violent demise as they smashed there heads against the glass of their bowl. Creepy, yet expected as they were mine. I even had some goldfish that I oh-so-cleverly named Thing 1 and Thing 2. I think they lived a week.

I guess the oldest pet is actually my baby sister. She is the definition of a crazy cat lady. Not just keeping them like Gollum's ring, but actually pretending to be one. She's almost 21, a proud AF member, and will answer the phone with a "Meow" every time. She's trusted with the nations safety, but would sell us out to Russia in an instant for a Calico. She used to crawl around for hours (as a child AND grown up) pretending to groom herself and play like a kitten...a trait she has shared with my Little Bug. The two of them together is either super entertaining or migraine inducing. It's contagious as the rest of us tend to meow when someone calls for us. My youngest nephew pretends to be a cat too. Maybe it's a genetic flaw?

Little Bug as Tinkerbell and Baby Sis the Cat

Anyway, this blog was supposed to be for Saturday. A dear friend of mine had to give up his two Jack Russell Terrier's today and requested a blog about happier memories with pets. I had to oblige. Anything for you Kind Sir.

I hope this brought a smile to someones face. Now comment on here or my fancy new Blog FB page. Still looking for a Saturday (or Friday) theme. I may just keep taking requests, let me know!