Thursday, June 05, 2014

Anybody Out There?

Soooo.....It has been forever since I wrote a blog post. I still get traffic here which is pretty incredible. Is there really anybody out there?

Friday, December 14, 2007

License to be a Parent

I really believe that they should issue licenses for people to become parents.

If you think that I'm wrong, or that I'm some kind of freak for thinking that, I'd like to plead my case.

I've been busy and haven't been able to blog much, but I remembered something I wanted to blog about last year.

The end all be all of the worst Christmas presents !ever!

A friend of mine, who has been overweight since birth, received a brand new wardrobe from her size 2 Mother last year.

Very thoughtful, incredibly cool, right?

Wrong. It was all 4 sizes to small. Yes, the whole shabang. I'm talking work clothes, dressy clothes, club clothes, the woman must have spent a small fortune.

And my friend couldn't wear a single stitch of it.

When she asked her Mother why it was all to small, she just replied, "Well maybe NOW you'll lose weight!"

Yes, parents should have to get a license to have children, yes indeed.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Thursday, February 08, 2007


So we here in Chicago have taken quite a beating since that joke of a game Sunday.

First, we played like Pop Warner players in their first year at the Super Bowl, FFS, and then we got pounded with snow.

I fucking hate snow. I'm really kind of getting used to this global warming stuff, and I am not as used to this fluffy white stuff as I was growing up.

Here's one member of my family who was very grateful for the snow:

Ah yes, my "little" puppy who almost weighs as much as I do now. I need to start lifting weights or sumfin.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Gay Rehab

So does anyone know what exactly gay rehab is?

McPsychobigot has went to gay rehab to atone for his sins.

What do they do exactly in gay rehab? Do they make them get manicures and talk about their feelings?

This whole subject with McPsychobigot just really gets to me. We seem to have a large ratio of gay people in my family, and I was always raised with the thinking of it's normal. That is how some people are, it is just how they feel and there is nothing wrong with it.

So to have someone talk like McPsychobigot, especially someone that knows how bad those kinds of words can hurt someone-how dangerous they are, and then flat out lie, and then turn around and say "OOooooooh I'm going to rehab because I need help" just stinks. Just typing it has smelled up my whole blog.

I watched Grey's Anatomy last night, and as Isaiah entered a scene all I could think about was what a nasty creature he is. There was no disconnecting the person from the character.

Gay Rehab my ass. They need to fire his ass before one of my favorite shows is just forever gone to me.

I'm really getting tired of these celebs that do these horrible things and just say "I need help, I'm going to rehab." Gibson can be the biggest bigot in the world, say really hateful, dangerous things, but then say he's a drunk so that's why.

Bullshit. Some things are just wrong no matter what.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Are you ready for some football?

So you know you are from Chicago when you go to your friend's house and their little niece who is like one year and some months can't really say Mom or Dad or Hi or Bye but can say "GO BEARS."

I remember my Dad crying three times in my life. The first two times were when each of my Grandmothers died.

The third time was when the Bears won the Super Bowl.

Here's a blast from the past:

Super Bowl Shuffle Video

It's painful to watch. #4 tries so How could so many people with so little rhythm ever win a Super Bowl?

Carry on...

Friday, January 19, 2007

Stopping the Cycle

So I'm afraid of things. Most of them are things that most people are afraid of like spiders and snakes and really any kind of bug.

Some are not so common like how I'm scared to death of Jaws. Like that doesn't seem to uncommon I suppose, but when you stop to think about the fact that I'm afraid of Jaws in like Lake Michigan or a really big swimming pool late at night you start to come to the conclusion that this is not an ordinary fear.

Which, by the way, I still blame on my stupid ass Aunt who took me to see Jaws when I was like 5.

Anyway, I have this other unusual fear. It has drove many of the ex boyfriends crazy. The Mystery Man and I used to travel a lot, and I think it got to him the most. "It is just IRRATIONAL," he would say. "I'm sitting right here for God's sake!"

Just what was this irrational fear of mine? Something that terrified me so much I would never, ever do it in a million years, even with a big strong man right next to me?

Eating in the car.

Yes, you read that right. I have a highly irrational fear of eating in the car. TMM and I used to take this long road trips up the California coast and I'd insist we stop and eat instead of grabbing something to eat in the car.

Now I explained why I have an irrational fear of Jaws, so I guess I should explain why I have this irrational fear of eating in the car.

If you've read my blog at all you know that I grew up as a chunky/fat kid and lost weight in my early twenties.

Well that fat person doesn't go away when you lose weight, and she is always there, just behind your eyes.

My fear isn't because I'm afraid I'll get fat again, but because of a death. The death of someone I never met in my entire life.

I was working for a two doctors while I was going to college-Married doctors just out of school. They were Optometrists, and one day they informed me they would be leaving town because a friend of theirs had died.

This friend died while eating a Ho-Ho in the car. Choked to death. Now this was not enough to give me my irrational fear, no sir. It was what the male asshole doctor said after he told me how he died. "Figures. That guy was so fat he probably ate all the time!"

Now at this time I was in the middle of going from chunky to curvy. Anyone who has ever been fat, is fat, might become fat, or is a skinny woman that has been called fat because jackasses know they can get to any female by calling her fat no matter how skinny she is (why is that?)can tell you when you hear the word fat you equate it to me.

What if I died eating a Ho-Ho in my car? What if I died eating M&M's? Imagine the people saying, "Well that tank ass never could control her volumes of food."

So began the fear. I don't think I have eaten in my car since then.

Well today I stared that fear down. I've been moved back to days for a week at work, and after a complete nightmare of a day which included no calories at all, I was feeling a big light headed and weak.

So I stopped at a Subway outside of work on my way home. My Veggie Delight on wheat sat there in the seat next to me begging to be eaten. Now I could have just ate there, but after being gone for 10 hours and my doggy sitter came after I was only gone for 2 I had to get home right away considering the sizable "mistake" a 125 pound puppy would make if he couldn't hold it any longer.

So I'm driving on 94 with all the construction and asshats that don't know how to drive, and I'm starting to feel really, really sick. So I have a choice to make. Will I be the idiot that passed out from low blood sugar and caused the 20 car pile up on 94 and died or the formerly fat girl that choked to death on a veggie delight sub?

I chose the later, thus going against my irrational fear of eating in the car, and I lived to tell (or write) about it..

I'm thinking nothing can help me with the spider/bug thing, but at least I can eat when I'm hungry now.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

My Hero

So I blogged about my new love and addiction for Roswell a bit ago on my blog.

I just gotta say it. I heart Katherine Heigl. After how she called out McPsychobigot I want her to be my bestest friend.

That is all.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Hello Karma!

So, I got my very first ticket today. After having a driver's License for 20 (holy! shit!) years, I have finally got a speeding ticket.

Now I've been pulled over for just about everything you can think imagine. Speeding, blowing red lights (it was yellow, I swear officer), unsafe start, unsafe lane change (I didn't even know that existed), swerving, and expired license plates.

Never once did I receive a ticket. I have a tried and true plan on how not to get tickets. Tell the truth. I did it, I'm sorry, give me a ticket if you must and let's get the show on the road.

Double DD's don't hurt either.


I was driving through my old hometown this morning on my way to visit some family. Of course I was arriving late because it is unnatural to be up early on a Sunday morning unless you are a church person, which by the amount of fuck's you'll find in my blog, I'm obviously not.

So this ticket might have ground on me a bit since I seem to be spiraling to 40 at an alarming rate.

The only thing that saved me and my self esteem was who gave me the ticket.

It was that bastard from Kindergarten.

Now don't ever, ever think things you have done in your past will not come back to haunt you. Don't ever, ever think that your actions did not effect people, no matter how small, no matter how young you were.

So let's go back in time, shall we? The year was 1976 and I was starting Kindergarten. Much to my horror I found a little boy in my class that had the same name as me-Kelly. Not only that, but he had the common version of my last name.

My great great great grandfather changed our last name when he stole a horse and was on the run from the law. It was actually weirder before, but the way he changed the spelling has been the bane of my existence ever since then.

So my real last name is one letter off from being a real common last name and sounds completely different. Fucking criminals.

Anyway, so this potato of a head little boy decides that it is funny to point out that my last name is spelled wrong and that I have a boy first name, which all the other kids thought was real funny.

I kept it cool man, because even at that young of an age I think I knew that little children can pick out weakness better then anyone on Earth. They can smell that shit from a mile away because none of that survival of the fittest stuff has been deprogrammed from their little brains.

"Who's gonna listen to you, you are the Smelly Kelly!" I said. How one little sentence could make such an impact.

He cracked. You could see the panic and discomfort as he scanned the room to see if anyone had picked up on that one. Oh, they had. They sensed that weakness. They sensed that fear. Little kids are brutal, man.

So boy Kelly with the misspelled last name was forgotten about and Smelly Kelly was in for the rest of the year. He was Catholic, so he went to a private school after that, but rumor has it that he was called that all through elementary school.

Whoops....He started it....I finished it...Survival of the fittest, right?

Well it may have been survival of the fittest, but he definitely ended up getting the last laugh.

Yep, Smelly Kelly is the one that pulled me over. Smelly Kelly is the one that gave me my first ticket.

He did the whole I'm a bad ass cop swagger to my car. I rolled down the window while my breasts were accidentally flying out of my shirt. All of this while trying to get the big beast Nitro's head inside the car.

Isn't he cute? Anyway...

So I thought Smelly Kelly looked sort of familiar, but I haven't seen him since an accidental meeting in like 10th grade. I gave him the "I'm sorry Officer, I know I was speeding" blah blah blah speech as I handed him my license.

The look of utter disgust as he recognized my name was clear. Crystal even...

"I remember you from Kindergarten," he said. "I'm Kelly _____"

Fuck me running. I knew I was screwed. I'm kind of surprised he didn't search my car and like plant drugs in it or something. He was probably afraid that Nitro would eat him.

So as always karma has come around from a bad thing I did, which totally isn't fair since it was a self defense sort of deal. It kind of left me thinking though....

If all it takes is $159 to have not been called Boy Kelly with the fucked up last name for the rest of my scholastic career, then I'll take it.

Smelly Kelly still got the wrong end of the deal.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

I can't take it anymore...

Ok, this has bothered me for years. YEARS.

Why the fuck don't the fine folks at Blogger put the word Blogger into their spell checking device. Every time I type the word Blogger and go to the spell check I come up with suggestions like blocker, blockier, blacker, blusher.

It really, really annoys the hell out of me. Why would they do this when the name of their site is Blogger?

Someone please tell me why!

Electronically Over-accessorized

So every thing I log into blogger it taunts me with the whole "Your new version of Blogger is ready!"

Like it's saying, "Hey dumb ass, upgrade to the better version already!"

I'm fucking tired of better versions of electronic type things.

Lately I have been yearning for the days of yesterday, days when I could leave my house, and no one could get a hold of me.

Yeah, I had a pager, and starting in the early 90's I have had a cell phone, but unless it had a 911 attached to it no one really cared if you didn't answer a page right away and the price of a cell phone call was like calling the moon or something. I remember paying $50 a month for 75 minutes of talk time. Date myself much?

Today I have a text pager, not one but two cell phones, and a two-way radio that I must keep on at all times at work. It's like all these electronic leashes wrapped around me.

I fucking hate it.

The whole downfall of this electronic revolution started with the whole Pagers! They're not just for drug dealers anymore! Phenomenon. Now before I said that unless you put 911 after your number no one really cared if you answered back right away.

Then everyone started putting 911 after their number. Like all the time. It would be like calling an ambulance when you stubbed your toe, FFS.

My old pager from yesteryear is probably still at the bottom of the Chicago River. Where I threw it. After my crazy ass ex paged me one time to many. At least it has good company, with Dave Matthew's feces settling around it by now.

I heart Dave Matthew's, and I don't even rock the ganja......Well....Anymore...

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so people started abusing the pager thingy waaaay too much, and it was the beginning of the end. Then people started getting cell phones, and things have just gone horribly awry since all these cheap ass phone plans have come out.

People get terribly upset with me. I actually shut my cell phone off. Nothing annoys the crap out of me more then when someone is standing in line at a store talking their whole personal life for everyone to hear and the cashier is trying to get their damn money so they can get the fuck out of my way.

God that's rude. I can imagine how much cashier, servers, bank tellers, and the like hate cell phones. I bet they hate them almost as much as me.

So when I'm grocery shopping or in a restaurant or driving in my fucking car I am sure there isn't anything that is soooooo important that people must get a hold of me right! now!

But they sure act like they do. "Your cell phone was off again" or "Why didn't you answer your cell phone" are questions I hear on a daily basis.

Because I fucking turned it off or was fucking busy or I fucking didn't want to talk to anybody right at that particular moment, ok?

Then they get all hurt or mad or indignant because I waited a half hour to call them back. Like if I am eating in a restaurant with someone, I am sure as hell not going to answer my phone, and when people do it when they are with me I think it is rude as hell.

Yes, rude! as! hell! all you cell phone addicts. There is a person right in front of you to talk to, so talk to them. Enjoy your meal. Cut the electronic cord for one hour. You might just like it.