Ya know.....when someone starts subtly hinting (read: begging) for gifts for their birthday next month, the least they could do would be to include where to send said gift, if one was so inclined to send one (since the receipient might possibly have moved since the last time something was sent to them - ehem).
Just a suggestion, take it as you will.
Keith Brown, who in addition to being an excellent writer, is the sweetest daddy to his 2yo daughter, Fiona.
Fiona was born with a congenital heart problem called Truncus Arteriosus, which means the blood doesn't flow through the heart properly. She has had 2 major surgeries so far in her little life, and was expecting to hear that she would need one more in the near future. Happily, the news has just come out that she is doing as well as the doctor's expected and that she shouldn't need surgery for at least two more years. This is terrific news, and my warmest wishes and thoughts go out to the Brown family.
Things like this make me appreciate Nathan and his good health so much - if all i have to deal with is a bump on the head, like this week, then I am a truly blessed momma.
So I am at my aunt's house in choctaw, that I haven't been to since my childhood, only it isn't her house now, it is either Matthew's or Ray's house (I am pretty sure it is Ray's).
Anyway, there is a party going on, with out many people there at all, (maybe a coule of girls from the TNGC*). So, while I am at this party, I get a telephone call from a stranger telling me that he was a friend of "(insert name of a client that I just can't bring to mind right this sec)" and this friend had told him that he had paid to stay the night at my house, like a boarding house style deal, and that he was in my house (which was across the field from my aunt's) and he was going to stay there like his friend had. Oooooookay.
It gets a little fuzzy here, but I think some time had passed because it was dark and there are alot more people there, when this guy calls again. Only this time he is calling from a payphone and telling me that he had taken a gun from my house and that he had killed his ex-wife and her body is with him. I am trying to get where he is (14th and May), and what he had taken (the gun from the nightstand in the master bedroom that he had been riiling through for money) and what he had done (broken into his ex-wife's house and shot her and took her with him). I was writing all of this down in pencil on a notepad. I stretched the phone cord out the door and around the corner of the house with my cell phone that Kelli had given me to use to call the police. While I was heading outside the house, listening to 911 inform me that they had already gotten a report on this guy I had on the phone, another guy of Arabian decent was coming in the house through this back door. I saw him start to pull a gun out of his waistband out of the corner of my eye, just as I stepped out the door. I, and through the phone, 911, hear two gunshots. 911 immediately dispatches police to my house with sirens blaring, which scares the gunman and he runs out the back door towards the front of the house. Inside the house, I can hear my friend Helen, crying and screaming because the man that he shot in the kitchen was dead. For some assinine reason, my unarmed ass is chasing him - I guess to head him towards the cops who have pulled up at the end of the road to the house.
While I am running around to the front of the house, I see that my house, that I hadn't been able to see because of a barn blocking it from view, is on fire (the guy that had been in my house had stolen the gun and started the fire when he left the house). So I am now shouting "Call 911! Call 911!", with them on my cell phone and chasing an armed gunman.
And this is where I wake up. WTF??
Yeah, I don't have a clue what any of it means either, except for the fact that I can't get back to sleep now. Fuck.
*Notable exclusions from this dream are Tammee, Beau, and Natey.
Hehehehe - I actually got carded when I was having a liquid lunch earlier this week. That had me giggling for the rest of the day.
This guy is going to cut off his feet on Halloween and let you watch for $20. Uhhh, no thanks.
And I am not the only one not signing up - out of 10,000 views every day, only 10 people have signed up. I don't think he's gonna get the new prosthesis' any time soon at that rate, but if he doesn't get some paramedics to stand by to stop the bleeding, he's not really gonna need them.
Yeah, it's prolly a good thing that my BMW* post about the Post Office got eaten - it was pretty pissy.
*BMW - bitching, moaning, and whining (thanks to the queen of that for giving me the acronym).
Ken, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not, I repeat, DO NOT eat the MRE's that contain hot dogs, scalloped potatoes with ham, and especially the ham and cheese omlette. Oh. mah. gah. Even if they were only $.39 they are not worth it AT ALL.
After reading this entry of the Daily Brad, I was reminded that the TNGC can always get attention, even in the beginning.
Tammee and I went to eat at The Spaghetti Warehouse, before it completely sucked, to just shoot the shit, as we are prone to do. It just so happened we were discussing the, what some people would call "white-trash" - I prefer the term "Springer-esque", antics of a certain friend of ours who lived out of town at the time (see what happens when you aren't around?? hehe). It became obvious that the guy busing the tables around us was trying desperately to hear the conversation that included such words as "cops", "3am", and "fucked up", to name a few.
So, to be ever so helpful in my own special way - and to bust him for being a nosy fuck - the next time he came around, almost leaning into the table, I finished my sentence with "...so I told him to get the fuck off me, put his pants on, and fucking leave cuz' this wasn't fucking happening."
I guess that was intriguing enough for him because he whipped his head around, looked right at us and said something to the effect of "Man, some guys can just be dicks, huh?". To which I replied, "Totally" and we headed out the door trying not to laugh until we hit the sidewalk.