Helen Keller Wept

Here's the dealio; my dad has been blind (as in: HAD HIS EYES TAKEN OUT OF HIS HEAD) since the age of 5. During the time I have been his driver/helper we have encountered some weird requests like the time at the social security office when he went to sign up for benefits and the guy across the desk from him wanted Proof he was blind. But today was a new LOW. Dad trys valiantly to write his signature on all kinds of documents. I would say rarely does his signature ever stay on the line but it has not been a problem before because people figure out he's blind and realize, "How the hell is this guy gonna write straight and on the line?" New girl at bank today says,"He needs to sign for a withdrawal". I say, "He did sign, right here." (thinking she was just reciting her new learned rules.) She says,"It HAS to be on the line." Then I realized she was FREAKIN (that's for you, Joe, didn't want to drop the F-bomb) Bank Teller Serious about that LINE. My brain CRAMPS and all I want to do is SHOUT OUT ,"What Homeland Security Ass Wipe Rule Lovin Monkey is going to care if my dad's sloppy childish penmanship is laying on the line?" But I didn't do that, I folded the withdrawal slip again on the signature line and guided my 75 year old dad's shaky hand where to begin again. Of course he was embarrassed and felt less than whole. But the world's a better place because he got that signature on the line.

Fuckin Amazin

I went to baby shower on Saturday and the new mom and dad were given this gift by 3 different people which is: (drum roll puleeze) a device to test the bath water temp. before plopping the baby in! Lord Help Me I almost had a hole in my tongue from biting it. I realize I am OLD SCHOOL and all but if you're so God Damn dumb you need a tool to help you NOT burn the shit outta your child then you shouldn't be having any kids. Before you send me nasty grams , STOP and think about this..... how did centuries of babies get baths before the Rubber Duckie Temp gauge came along? If we don't use that muscle in our skull it'll atrophy.

Bathroom Doors

I am pondering whether there is a public bathroom in the universe where the metal sliding pin on the door ACTUALLY fits into it's counterpart on the stall doorjam. I've never seen one so I assume they are located as artifacts in a museum.
Who gives a shit? I'm drowning in a pool of unsatisfactory verbs and nouns. Ciao

Tuesdays with Chrissy........

This is the ONE blog that you need to send to all the people you care about. Unlike 99% of those Urban Legends about God in a pancake this ACTUALLY happened and it'll help you cope with the BULLSHIT that is called "The Real World". I have a friend named Chris who was diagnosed with A.L.S. (Lou Gehrig's) 18 years ago. Statistically she should be dead (so there's the FIRST groovy thing; Fuck stats when they pertain to people telling you when you'll die) . Chris has only slight movement of head, can tap one finger, can masticate food only if someone feeds her, has to be taken to the lav. and propped on crapper while she "does her business" and then has someone wipe her own ass , etc. You're starting to form a mental image, right? So, through all this life of hard knocks she is hysterically fun to be around. (now we're shifting in to the balls of the story so DON'T FALL ASLEEP). Chris loves a great chocolate like any REAL woman so I had brought her some. I cut each "bite size" (for us NON ALS people) piece into smaller sections and I was placing the bits by hand into her mouth and it DAWNS on me how this must really suck for her on sooo many levels so I say "Chris, I can't believe that you have to deal with me touching your chocolate before it goes in your mouth." AND CHRIS REPLIES, "Ahhh, could be worse." (Now whenever I say Chris is talking you have to insert voice which comes out sounding like a stroke victim) I snap back at her, "No, Chris I don't think that you can say that in your condition." She says,"Well, there could be NO chocolate or it could be shitty chocolate." I freakin laughed so hard and cried and it was an epiphanal moment for me.
So the point my fellow humanoids is that when you're up to your neck in life's shitstorm PLEASE take a deep breath and remind yourself "There could have been no chocolate or it could have been shitty chocolate."

Freud Dude may have been right

The deal is that my dad is 75 and has a 51 year old g-friend. Too real for me. Find someone his own age to play with! Ohh, wait... they're all dead. Fuck you Freud I don't have ANY problems signing up for AARP with my new other mother. I wonder what they talk about since he tells me about his bowels. I'm a bitch. Could be worse as my friend Chrissy says "There could be NO chocolate".

Valentine's Mourning 9:21

What the frick (regarding DICK) Cheney? Let's see; here's the routine, 1. Pick up gun 2. Fire the muther at somethin movin. Hey, GOD gave him the right to choose whomever he wants to fire upon and there obviously weren't any Iraqi's at The Gun Club that morning.
Whatever, if Cupid gets to fire off volleys of arrows the Vice P oughta be able to express himself also!

I've been looking at life through Vicodin glasses (or would that be contacts?) lately. Decided I like it better this way than normal although I make a million mistakes and fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. The reason I prefer an altered state is that it gives one a glimpse at our inevitable senility and we can embrace that upcoming crazy-ass state of mind and be OK with it. Lots of needless worries, anxieties, self perfection expectations alllll glossed-over with prescribed silliness. I do recommend.

Scoring the Olympic Figure Skaters

If you can go on the ice and flip someone over your head like yesterday's garbage... YOU WIN. What the hell is all this : "the execution was not tight" business? How many overweight out of shape people shamelessly said "yeah, her knees were wobbling"as they spread more cheese on that stack of nachos and headed back out to the televised games?
Do you enjoy thrift shops like Goodwill? I've become addicted to the "possibilities" there. I'll let you know when I strike it rich.

Lost in cyberblogland

I may learn to totally embrace this blog business. Right now I'm overwelmed with spelling and sentence structure. Is there a drano for the id? Here's some thoughts for me to ponder 1. Is Valentine's Day a scam? 2. Is that stuff on a Big Mac really hamburger?

Never been good at diaries. But I'll give this a try to keep my brain from being stuck in the 50s.