Rubber-Necking

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Zoiks! I would have thought it would have been higher than that.

(A tip of the cap to the Crankyprof.)

Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

I've been spending the last few days at home with my leg elevated to get the swelling down. Doctor Hotshot is sending me back there for a few more. Ugh.

I want my life back.

(See you Wednesday!)

Drive-Bys

I'll be giggling myself silly over this for the next several days.

G'Day.
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What An Iris Says About You

You are incredibly hopeful and courageous. Even when you've been challenged in life, you have faith that everything will work out. Your feelings run deep, and you are a very grateful person.

What Do The Flowers You Pick Say About You?

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You Have a Melancholic Temperament

Introspective and reflective, you think about everything and anything. You are a soft-hearted daydreamer. You long for your ideal life. You love silence and solitude. Everyday life is usually too chaotic for you. Given enough time alone, it's easy for you to find inner peace. You tend to be spiritual, having found your own meaning of life. Wise and patient, you can help people through difficult times. At your worst, you brood and sulk. Your negative thoughts can trap you. You are reserved and withdrawn. This makes it hard to connect to others. You tend to over think small things, making decisions difficult.

What Temperment Are You?

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One more reason why I'm glad I don't own a television. Downright dangerous!
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Found via my Fairy Blogmother, The Metaphor's New Clothes gleefully skewers just about every political and philosphical camp!
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Yowch!
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Oh, poop. Not again. Spring, please?
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Oh, poop again. My blood work came back just barely skewed enough that I got bounced out of this study. Rats.
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I'm not kidding that March 2008 has been a nightmare month for me.

Within the last couple of days I found out that two more of my friends have had trips to the emergency room -- both resulting in hospitalization. John G. fell and broke two ribs, one of which punctured and collapsed a lung. And my pal Solani was struck by a hit and run driver in her parking garage. Hit so hard, in fact, that she was knocked unconscious.

Will this stinkin' month EVER end???

Purple Prose

This photo, which I took on Monday, doesn't even begin to show how deeply eggplant purple my foot and ankle have become. In addition, I've had so much swelling that it's difficult (damned near impossible) to get my right shoe on, and trouser socks cut off my circulation at the top.

Thus, I made a trip to see my (new) doctor yesterday... and ended up in the third hospital I've been in in seven days.

Since I've already tested positive for carrying the Factor V Leiden genetic marker as someone with a predisposition for blood clots, having an elephant cankle raised my new doc's eyebrows up into her hairline.

Yup. She sent me straight to the emergency room for Doppler imaging to make sure I'm not experiencing any more* blood clots.

The good news?

No blood clots that they can see.

The PITA news?

No more fooling around with that aspirin-a-day nonsense that's gotten me by for the past four years. I've now got five day's worth of Lovenox injections twice a day (no worse than giving yourself an insulin shot) while I'm building up my Coumadin tolerance. Dr. Hot Stuff (and she is) tells me in (in no uncertain terms) that I'll be on the Coumadin for the rest of my life. Oh, joy. It's not so bad, I guess. I just hate to have to report in once a month for a protime test.

Considering the alternatives, however, that's not such a big sacrifice.

Anyhoo, I go back to see Dr. Hot Stuff on Monday.

Geeze. It's probably been two years since I've darkened a doctor's doorstep. I certainly am making up for lost time....
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*About four years ago I ended up at St. Joe's because I woke up one fine Sunday morning to discover that my left thigh was twice the circumference of the right thigh. I spent four days in the hospital and another ten days of bed rest at my brother's house because I couldn't climb the stairs to get to my own condo for fear of a clot breaking loose and going straight to a bad place. Uck. (The clot and attendant treatment. Not being at my bro's house.)

Drive-Bys

Quote of the Day:

You carry all that extra stuff in your pants, you aren't going to make it over fences undamaged.

It's not what you think!
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"The Gov Boat" (Snicker.)
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Here's another interesting meme started by betme as a guest poster at Moonbeam McQueen's joint.

If I Could Have Ten "Do-Overs"

1. I'd choose The Divine Miss Marilyn all over again.

2. I'd ask my dad to teach me to golf years earlier than I did so I'd have lots more time with him.

3. I would slow down a little more at that rainy three-way intersection, and my red Volkswagon 412 and my Mosrite acoustic guitar would both still be in one piece.

4. I would never have touched that one cigarette that was my downfall after ten years of not smoking.

5. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

6. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

7. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

8. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

9. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

10. I would have engaged brain before opening mouth.

How about you?

From the Rowdies in the Back of the Bus

The Sweetheart of Shell Knob, MO sent this little gem:

Ed and Dorothy met while on vacation, and Ed fell head over heels in love with her. On the last night of his vacation, the two of them went to dinner and had a serious talk about how they would continue the relationship.

'It's only fair to warn you, I'm a total golf nut,' Ed said to his lady friend. 'I eat, sleep and breathe golf, so if that's a problem, you'd better say so now.'

Dorothy responded, 'If we're being honest with each other, here goes... I'm a hooker.'

'I see,' Ed replied, and was quiet for a moment.

Then he added, 'You know, it's probably because you're not keeping your wrists straight when you tee off.'
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She sent this one, too:

OLD PEOPLE'S QUIZ (Actually, it's more of a Baby Boomer's Quiz)

Here's a little quiz to see how much you remember about some less-than-important things from a few decades back. Have fun (but no peeking!). Then, post your score in the comments.

1. What builds strong bodies 12 ways?
A. Flintstones vitamins
B. The buttmaster
C. Spaghetti
D. Wonder Bread
E. Orange Juice
F. Milk
G. Cod Liver Oil

2. Before he was Muhammed Ali, he was...
A. Sugar Ray Robinson
B. Roy Orbison
C. Gene Autry
D. Rudolph Valentino
E. Fabian
F. Mickey Mantle
G. Cassius Clay

3. Pogo, the comic strip character said, "We have met the enemy and...
A. It's you
B. He is us
C. It's the Grinch
D. He wasn't home
E. He's really mean
F. We quit
G. He surrendered

4. Good night, David.
A. Good night, Chet
B. Sleep well
C. Good Night, Irene
D. Good Night, Gracie
E. See you later, alligator
F. Until tomorrow
G. Good night, Steve

5. You'll wonder where the yellow went,
A. When you use Tide
B. When you lose your crayons
C. When you clean your tub
D. If you paint the room blue
E. If you buy a soft water tank
F. When you use Lady Clairol
G. When you brush your teeth with Pepsodent

6. Before he was the Skipper's Little Buddy, Bob Denver was Dobie's friend,
A. Stuart Whitman
B. Randolph Scott
C. Steve Reeves
D. Maynard G. Krebbs
E. Corky B. Dork
F. Dave the Whale
G. Zippy Zoo

7. Liar, liar...
A. You're a liar
B. Your nose is growing
C. Pants on fire
D. Join the choir
E. Jump up higher
F. On the wire
G. I'm telling Mom

8. Meanwhile, back in Metropolis, Superman fights a never ending battle for truth, justice and...
A. Wheaties
B. Lois Lane
C. TV ratings
D. World peace
E. Red tights
F. The American way
G. News headlines

9 . Hey, kids, what time is it?
A. It's time for Yogi Bear
B. It's time to do your homework
C. It's Howdy Doody Time
D. It's Time for Romper Room
E. It's bedtime
F. The Mighty Mouse Hour
G. Scoopy Doo Time

10. Lions and tigers and bears...
A. Yikes
B. Oh no
C. Gee whiz
D. I'm scared
E. Oh My
F. Help Help
H. Let's run

11. Bob Dylan advised us never to trust anyone
A. Over 40
B. Wearing a uniform
C. Carrying a briefcase
D. Over 30
E. You don't know
F. Who says, "Trust me"
G. Who eats tofu

12. NFL quarterback who appeared in a television commercial wearing women's stockings.
A. Troy Aikman
B. Kenny Stabler
C. Joe Namath
D. Roger Stauback
E. Joe Montana
F. Steve Young
G. John Elway

13. Brylcream...
A. Smear it on
B. You'll smell great
C. Tame that cowlick
D. Greaseball heaven
E. It's a dream
F. We're your team
G. A little dab'll do ya

14. I found my thrill...
A. In Blueberry muffins
B. With my man, Bill
C. Down at the mill
D. Over the windowsill
E. With thyme and dill
F. Too late to enjoy
G. On Blueberry Hill

15. Before Robin Williams, Peter Pan was played by
A. Clark Gable
B. Mary Martin
C. Doris Day
D. Errol Flynn
E. Sally Fields
F. Jim Carey
G. Jay Leno

16. Name the Beatles
A. John, Steve, George, Ringo
B. John, Paul, George, Roscoe
C. John, Paul, Stacey, Ringo
D. Jay, Paul, George, Ringo
E. Lewis, Peter, George, Ringo
F. Jason, Betty, Skipper, Hazel
G. John, Paul, George, Ringo

17. I wonder, wonder, wonder, who
A. Who ate the leftovers?
B. Who did the laundry?
C. Was it you?
D. Who wrote the book of love?
E. Who I am?
F. Passed the test?
G. Knocked on the door?

18. I'm strong to the finish
A. Cause I eats my broccoli
B. Cause I eats me spinach
C. Cause I lift weights
D. Cause I'm the hero
E. And don't you forget it
f. Cause Olive Oyl loves me
g. To outlast Bruto

19. When it's least expected, you're elected, you're the star today...
a. Smile, you're on Candid Camera
b. Smile, you're on Star Search
c. Smile, you won the lottery
d. Smile, we're watching you
e. Smile, the world sees you
f. Smile, you're a hit
g. Smile, you're on TV

20. What do M & M's do?
a. Make your tummy happy
b. Melt in your mouth, not in your pocket
c. Make you fat
d. Melt your heart
e. Make you popular
f. Melt in your mouth, not in your hand
g. Come in colors

Okay, for the answers!

Here are the correct answers:
1 d - Wonder Bread
2 g - Cassius Clay
3 b - He Is Us
4 a - Good night, Chet
5 g - When you brush your teeth with Pepsodent
6 d - Maynard G. Krebbs
7 c - Pants On Fire
8 f - The American Way
9 c - It's Howdy Doody Time
10 e - Oh My
11 d - Over 30
12 c - Joe Namath
13 g - A little dab'll do ya
14 g - On Blueberry Hill
15 b - Mary Martin
16 g - John, Paul, George, Ringo
17 d - Who wrote the book of Love
18 b - Cause I eats me spinach
19 a - Smile, you're on Candid Camera
20 f - Melt In Your Mouth Not In Your Hand

Yes, I'm old. I scored 20 out of 20.
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Drive-Bys

Many, many thanks to all who've dropped a note of well-wishing.

Friday I hit the 36-hours-after-the-accident mark that usually means I finally really feel the results of whatever I've done to myself (or had done to myself) lately. Oh, man, did I hurt, especially my back and neck!

However, I consumed massive doses of ibuprofen and spent the entire weekend communing with my brand new heating pad, and I'm feeling much better... but not nearly 100% yet.

My leg has turned shockingly lovely shades of purple, green and yellow. Looks like I stuck it in too many different Easter egg dye cups. Meh.

(And that's the good side.)

Anyhoo, I'm on the mend and planning to see my own doc this week, just to make sure all is healing up well and to make sure I haven't been done any long-term injury.

Note: The ER doc I talked to told me that they see at least one person who's been struck by a cab every day. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, what's wrong with these people???
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In another sign that the month of March 2008 sucks the biggest whazoo ever, I found out yesterday that one of my sister's college pals has been diagnosed with end stage AIDS and is entering hospice. I don't care how you feel about gay folks -- this is one terrible, terrible way to die.

Please keep Glen B. in your thoughts and prayers, okay?
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Okay. I was ready to hear some good news for a change, and pleased as hell to see this. That reaffirms that good karma does come around eventually.
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Headline of the Day:

"Drew Peterson prepares for possible arrest, blames media for 'sinister' portrayal"

Right. That guy has been aware of this...

"I am now dealing with the court of public opinion, which is filled with my jury pool," explained Peterson, who has hired a publicist.

... from Day 1, and has manipulated the media ever since.

He does, however, acknowledge that from the outside his behavior might be seen as peculiar and his jokes inappropriate.

Ya think???
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What were they thinking???

A new twist on the Twinkie defense?

How do you ever live something like this down?

I wonder if she's met the cab driver who hit me?
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Maybe father really does know best. And good for him.
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I ran across the Six Word Meme at Republic of T, and it sounds like just my cuppa:

Write a memoir of your life in six words or fewer, mention your tagger, and tag six more people.

My memoir?

Oops. (I meant to do that.)

And, no. I'm not explaining.

I tag Joanie, Pammy, Elisson (and I expect it in Yiddish), Moonbeam McQueen and my BlogMama (who can probably do it in Latin, and definitely in legalese).

I Can Has...

... road rash?

Last night I became a true Chicago cliche. I was hit by a cab while crossing the street, on a green light, with the "walk" sign flashing. He made a left turn right into me. Looking straight at me, too.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Everything happened so fast that it was only after the fact before I could even complete the thought, "Wait. He wouldn't possibly..." *BOOM* "... hit me." Ow.

Now, if you don't live in a big city, you can't possibly understand the craziness that are the guys and gals that get behind the wheels of cabs and buses in the urban jungle. For most of them, traffic signs and signals are not mandatory... not even suggestions -- just an irritation. Minimal fuel consumption trumps brake pedals and gear shifts. The only things on the road that have the right of way are their own vehicles -- certainly not something as pedestrian as a pedestrian.

This is not necessarily a bad thing if you are in the cab and need to get somewhere in a hurry.

However, if you are outside of the taxi and standing between it and the destination that its driver believes far more important that yours, and you just might be in for some hurting. Trust me on this one.

So there I am, sitting on my butt in the middle of the street. The Middle Eastern taxi driver gets out of his car, whips out his cell phone and starts making calls, speaking rapidly and animatedly in some type of Arabic. I don't know if he's calling 911 or his cab company. Probably both.

A couple of pedestrians come running up to see if I'm okay and tell me not to move. One woman drags out her own cell phone and calls 911. Fortunately, I'm right across the street from Ogilvy Transportation Center, and Chicago's finest are always plentiful in this area.

So a couple of squad cars pull up, and I'm still instructed to stay where I am. (Cold pavement. Yuck. At least there was no... snow.) Info gets disseminated. ID cards provided. Ah, finally! Someone brings one of those chairs that collapses down to the size of a briefcase or unfolds into a full gurney. No more cold hiney.

My right shoe is mangled and the sole is ripped from the upper around the toe. My right knee is damp. Wait a minute! The ground is dry, but my knee is damp. Not good. Lift the pant leg and, sure enough, there's an inch-wide rivulet of blood running from my knee to my ankle. An officer friendly brings me a gauze pad and a blanket. I apply pressure and cover up.

Just then, an ambulance pulled up. The paramedics very quickly load me into their vehicle, and I know I must be doing pretty well since they belt me onto the bench instead of strapping me down to a gurney. Seems I made their night. They'd been on duty for four hours without a call.

Surprisingly, I'm doing pretty well. I know I'm a bit banged up, but I'm not panicked, not shocky (and I know what shock feels like), and I'm actually feeling pretty calm. (All those stories by AD, BabsRN, LawDawg, Matt G and GruntDoc have rubbed off on me, I guess!)

Here was another surprise. Chicago hospitals have a reputation for jam-packed ERs and horrifyingly long waits to be seen. The good folks at Northwestern Memorial Hospital couldn't have been kinder or made intake any easier. (Okay, the one lady who chatted nonstop on her cell phone about highly personal stuff while typing my data into the system -- her I could have lived without. Save your shopping list of feminine hygiene products and snacks for someone else, okay?)

Was my blood pressure up a bit from earlier in the day? You betcha. But really the only damage is road rash up the entire right side of my calf. Good-sized abrasions on my knee and my ankle. Lots of lovely hematomas up and down my right side. A sore upper arm from the tetanus shot the doctor insisted I needed.

Quite frankly, I am one lucky lady.

A big, big thank you to the officers who responded so quickly, the paramedics who were so kind and professional, and the folks and Northwestern who got me in and out in record time. And especially to the officer who tracked me down to the hospital to give me a copy of the accident report.

Another big thank you to my buddy Kat, who made a mad dash for the hospital when she got my call, and gave me a place to crash (heh) last night.

I've got a secret, though. I'm really, really ready for March 2008 to be done. And look what I have to look forward to tomorrow. Great. Just great.

Drive-Bys

McGeehee is riffing on a blast from my past here.

Great. Now I'll have this melody stuck in my head for days:


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Ken Levine expresses my sentiments exactly when it comes to airline carriers these days.

My favorite?

IF YOU’RE GOING TO CHARGE EXTRA FOR A PIECE OF LUGGAGE THERE SHOULD BE A BIG PENALTY IF IT DOESN’T ARRIVE -- And I don’t mean within the month. I mean on THAT flight. It’s bad enough you lose our bags but now we have to pay you for the privilege?

Too right!
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Who says court is boring?

I, Lab Rat

Today I had my intake evaluation for this clinical trial. Intake took almost three hours, and covered a plethora of subjects, including physical fitness for the study.

1. Millions of forms. Consent forms. Health history forms. Forms to evaluate just how susceptible to addiction you are.
   
2. Answer a bunch of questions posed by Research Associate based on aforesaid form responses.
   
3. Height and weight measurements.
4. Blow in a tube thingie so they can measure how much carbon monoxide is in my lungs.
5. Zap me three times on the forehead and three times on my upper arm with some light doodad that's supposed to measure pigment in the skin.
6. Peed in a cup. (In subsequent visits, they'll actually pay me ten bucks a pop to do this. Yahoo. I can't wait.)
   
7. Online surveys. Nine of them.
8. More Research Associate questions.
9. Quasi-physical. Quasi, because I didn't have to peel down to a paper gown. Oddly, we spent way more time on neurological testing than in actually taking my blood pressure, pulse or listening to my heart and lungs. Odd.
10. Computer game. Totally, mind-numbingly boring computer game. Got a load of bull hockey tale about how it might be used to help responses in the process of quitting smoking. If that's really true, I might just have to kill myself right now.
11. Counseling session to figure out if I'm psychologically fit for the study. I surprise the kid with utter candor. Several times. Hmmm.
12. Schedule first counseling/get patch & meds session for April 24. (Looks like target quit date will be May 1. Whoohoo.)
13. Let vampire take several vials of blood.

Oh, there'll be more fun stuff along the way, including giving saliva samples. Keeping a nightly smoking journal. Carrying a treatment manual. Yetch.

While I'm not expecting it to be fun, I am hoping that the combination of counseling, patch (yuck) and pill (please, please, please let me get the Naltrexone, and not the placebo) will be the magic combination for me.

I'll keep you posted.

(And if you live in Chicago and are thinking about quitting, they're still taking applicants for the study!)

Drive-Bys

see more crazy cat pics

Yep. We have actual sunshine today.
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Quote of the Day:

For all I know, it's hairy as Hobbit toes back there.

Laughed myself silly over that!
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Drive-Bys

You Are Fairly Normal

You scored 70% normal on this quiz Like most people you are normal in some ways... But you aren't a completely normal person. You're a little weird too! Why You Are Normal: You prefer ruffled potato chips You prefer a good meal to a good nap You eat the frosting first You think fishnet stockings are trashy When you're in a car, you prefer to be the driver [Duh!] Why You Aren't Normal: You are no longer with your first love You prefer the moon to the sun You would not eat meat from a cloned animal You know a little about many subjects You find the Chicken Dance to be the more embarrassing dance

What's Normal About You... And What's Not?

(A tip of the cap to the lovely and talented Ms. Tammi.)
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While he's usually really funny, Uncle Jay knocks it out of the park this week with his takes on hubris, Eliot Spitzer, Super Delegates and more.
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I don't know why this made me giggle...



... but it really, really did.
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Is it me, or is there something almost Monty Python-esque about this story?

(A tip of the cap to Ken Lammers.)
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Travis has finally returned to blogging. That's the good news.

The bad news?

Zonker has exited the blogosphere. Oh, I suspect I'll stumble over him at a couple of blogmeets a year... but I'll really miss his pithy posts. And the midgets.

And more bad news... Ms. Sandy appears to have done a runner again. Somebody give me a shout when she resurfaces again, please.
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Best Irish joke ever here.

Drive-Bys

Ambulance Driver has a bunch of questions for gun bloggers and medbloggers. I sure hope El Capitan, The Conservative UAW Guy, Og and Kim du Toit get a gander at his post.
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Yay! (Happy dance, happy dance, happy dance!) I lurves me some Oregon Pinot Noir. From this place, especially!

Hmmm.... Anyone up for a wine country tour/blogmeet? I really, really want to do the Willamette Valley. We could plan for 2009, you know.

Give me a shout if you're interested.
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Jeeze, Louise! We finally get a couple of Aldercritters that make a sensible decision, and then we have another one going off half-cocked against the circus. Why she'd do this is beyond me, as the circus is a huge revenue generator for the United Center. In addition, if she's going to pick a target, why not pick one that doesn't have its own Center for Elephant Conservation?

It's not like Chicago doesn't have a million bigger and more pressing issues to deal with. Like infrastructure? Taxes? The housing market?

Nope. Our aldercritters prefer to focus on such hot topics as trans fats, foie gras and elephants. Great. Just great.
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Pushing to seat the Florida delegates, at least one top Clinton fund-raiser, Paul Cejas, a Miami businessman who has given the Democratic National Committee $63,500 since 2003, has demanded Democratic officials return his 2007 contribution of $28,500, which they have agreed to do.

“If you’re not going to count my vote, I’m not going to give you my money,” said Mr. Cejas, who was the United States ambassador to Belgium from 1998 to 2001.

Christopher Korge, a Florida real estate developer who is another top fund-raiser for Mrs. Clinton, held an event last year in his home that brought in about $140,000 for the national party, which was set aside in a special account for the general election battle in Florida. But he told committee officials this week that if Florida’s delegate conundrum was not settled satisfactorily he would be asking for the money back.

“If we do not resolve this issue,” Mr. Korge said, “I think it’s safe to say there will be a request for a return of $140,000.”

Can you blame them? I'm not really sure the DNC thought that this would happen when then decided not to count Florida's and Michigan's votes.
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Here's my Celtic horoscope:

You Are An Elm Tree

You are easygoing and a pleasure to be around. Good looking, you have a pleasant shape and tasteful clothes. You demand little in others, but you tend not to forgive their mistakes. Dominant, you like to lead and enjoy making decisions for others. Overall, you are cheerful, honest, noble, generous, and funny.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

What's yours?
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Drive-Bys

Joanie and Teresa are blogging about the oldest email in their possession.

I decided to peek through my archives and discovered this cartoon sent to me by the lovely and talented Nancy V. on August 5, 1999:

Yikes. Time to clean out the archives.
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Quote of the Day:

The dog froze in mid bowel movement and sucked the turd back into his ass.

I just love Hammer.
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Mamacita is blogging about the most embarrassing thing she's ever survived.

That reminded me of the time I left my lakefront condo and walked three city blocks towards the Granville el stop before someone stopped and kindly informed me that the hem of my broomstick skirt was tucked into the elastic waistband and I'd been showing the world I'm a Hanes Her Way kind of gal.

Nope. Not one of my finer moments.
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Ald. Freddrenna Lyle (6th) said Thursday she joined her colleague, Ald. Helen Shiller (46th), in sandbagging the plastic bag ban at this week's City Council meeting because it would "criminalize legal conduct."

Pinch me.

I must be dreaming, because two Chicago aldermen actually did something that makes common sense.
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This is nothing but scare tactics to promote the new HPV vaccine. I don't believe the sample was representative at all.
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Two in honor of St. Patrick's Day:

You Are Guinness

You know beer well, and you'll only drink the best beers in the world. Watered down beers disgust you, as do the people who drink them. When you drink, you tend to become a bit of a know it all - especially about subjects you don't know well. But your friends tolerate your drunken ways, because you introduce them to the best beers around.

What's Your Beer Personality?

You Are Teal Green

You are a one of a kind, original person. There's no one even close to being like you. Expressive and creative, you have a knack for making the impossible possible. While you are a bit offbeat, you don't scare people away with your quirks. Your warm personality nicely counteracts and strange habits you may have.

What Color Green Are You?

Drive-Bys

Yikes! That's not a fashion statement. That's an audition for the role of Lula in the Stephanie Plum series.
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Blogmeets will do this to you. Especially when you dip into the Chatham Artillery Battery Acid.
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When I Grow Up...

... I want to be Betty White.

DR SEUSS - 5000 FINGERS OF DR T

If you're going to see a Dr. Seuss movie, it really ought to be this gem. I saw it when I was in grade school, and it scared the bejeepers out of me!

Simon's Cat 'Let Me In!'

Couldn't resist.

(A tip of the cap to Denny.)

Spread the Word

Jim Bednarkiewicz is recruiting coordinator for a transportation company. He's looking for truck drivers throughout northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin. He wants guys with six months' experience or vets with a CDL "A" license.

"I am a firm believer in supporting our military and those who serve our country, without reservation putting themselves in harm's way on a daily basis," he said. "Military vets are the best that the United States has to offer, and I am always humbled and proud in their presence."

Interested, qualified vets should e-mail Jim at jbednarkiewicz@averittexpress.com or phone at (815) 530-6161.

Rubber-Necking

This guy makes Eliot Spitzer look like a choirboy.

And speaking of fellow choirboys...

Sheesh. What's with these legal types lately???

Rubber-Necking

What in the heck is going on in the legal community these days? I don't know what's wierder:

This,

or This,

or This?

Who said lawyers are boring?

Easy As A-B-C?

My dear pal Kat and I spent one evening at the Redhead Piano Bar playing a very challenging game. (And made more challenging by the consumption of many glasses of wine beforehand.)

How do you play? Simple. Any number of people from one to twenty-six can play. One person starts off a short story with a sentence beginning with the letter "A." The next person must begin their sentence with the letter "B," and so on. Here's our story:

After mouthing off, the ridiculous couple danced up a storm while I turned to satisfy my taste for something sweet.

Bittersweet liquor with coffee, I decided, would clear the sour taste of bad dancing and the worse behavior from my palate and my brain.

Clouded in the fury caused by the insensitive notions anyone in this crap shoot of a city can cause, I decided to effect and infect with the rash attitude dad gave me.

Dad - now there was a no bullshit rock 'n roller of a guy with no time for people with puffed up pretensions, no sense of rhythm and tin-plated ears.

Energized by the youth he dated, retired and spitting fire, he ranted and raved the premonitions of what dawn could bring between spitting Jack and tobacco onto the pavement.

Fuck it, I thought, freed by the vision of my devil-may-care dad, I don't have to put up with this middle aged nightmare of a watering hole.

Good God though, how it changed pace from the drawer full of scotch, enjoyed amidst the ghost of Saturday night.

Inhaling a lung-full of second-hand smoke, I shook my spine loose and reached for that peaceful place that only complete strangers, good booze and better liquor made possible.

Jack's place had long since resided in my belly, but he always longed for the company of Jim, José and Johnny.

Keep it together girl, I muttered to myself and waved to the bartender for my check.

Long walks, they always did me right on rainy nights, giving way to think about where I was at - where I would be heading next and why I was doing the same thing I had been doing so many yesterdays before.

Nodding to the bartender as I dropped my cash on the bar, I shrugged on my weatherbeaten leather jacket and headed out the door into the heavy mist and rain-slicked street.

On the grit and grime, the garbage of a left-over city, I contemplated between X and Z, but why could never hold my attention the way it was payed to do.

Pity, pity, pity poor me who lives in the best city on earth and can't find a decent bar or interesting conversation on a late autumn Saturday night.

Quitting early, due to a lack of booze, funds and friends, I feel short-changed on life, I hear the fortune of future events but have nothing but today and yesterday to dwell on.

Reality sucks, though, and willed myself to play the game of "what if" and "why not" and "how would..."

Superstitiously, I threw salt over my left shoulder, tempting fate I followed with my right and consoled myself in the thought, "What if god believed one to be better than the next"?

Throwing salt led to throwing caution to the wind, as I turned into the first bar I found, no money in my pocket, determined to find out if I really could depend on the kindness of God and the kindness of strangers.

Unique thoughts for me, a dirt bag, a scoundrel; or, at least that's what she told me after hopping on her tab and running it up a good thirty dollars before she noticed.

Very slick, my mom, the user, abuser, needy, greedy, grasping drain on my wallet and my heart.

"Wanker" for short, I called her, hoping I could grasp onto an English accent.

"Xerxes Balls!" I muttered in my best clipped British slang.

"You filthy, filthy man", the woman shouted next to me on her way to the loo.

Zoo night, indeed, Saturday night brings out the ridiculous animals in all of us.

C'mon. Give it a try.

(And, yes -- we totally missed the letters "H" and "M." Oops. Blame it on the Pinot Noir.)

Rubber-Necking

"That rooster had a black-belt in chicken-fu."

I'll still be laughing over this two days from now. Thanks, LawDawg. I really, really needed that.

Drive-Bys

What Kind of Empath Are You? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Judge You are a Judge Empath, one who is a "truthsayer". You can tell truth from lies, good from evil. You do not tolerate wrong doing. You are a defender of the good and the innocent. You are kind and merciful but do not play foolish games. (from "The Book of Storms" by Jad Alexander at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Empaths/) Judge 80% Artist 75% Healer 65% Universal 60% Fallen Angel 60% Precog 60% Shaman 50% Traveler 40%

(A tip of the cap to fellow Judge Christine!)
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Please be sure to visit The Friday Ark hosted by The Modulator. In addition, also stop by:

• Carnival of the Cats which goes up every Sunday
  • the 207th edition, 3/2, is up at Momma Grace & Company
  • The 208th edition, 3/9, will be hosted at Artsy-Catsy
• Weekend Cat Blogging which goes up every weekend
• The 143nd edition, 3/1-2, is up at Mind of Mog
• The 144th edition, 3/8-9, will be hosted by Pet's Garden Blog
• Bad Kitty Cats Festival of Chaos which goes up every weekend
• The 34th edition, 3/2, is up at The Tuxedo Gang Hideout
• The 35th edition, 3/9, will be hosted by The Catboys Realm
• Do go shout out at The Catbloggers Frappr Map

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Argggggggggggggggh! Will this never end?
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I love and respect most police officers, but this is ridiculous. That's a union for you.
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Why sue the importers? They had no knowledge that the product was tainted. Somebody must be looking for deep pockets, and knows they'll never get anything from the Chinese exporter...
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You've got to admit it -- LMP has a way with words!
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Many, many thanks to all who've reached out to me following The Divine Miss Marilyn's passing. I'm really touched.

In Memorium

Grand Champion Galidorn's Marilyn Monrex of Woodsprite

May 5, 1991 - March 5, 2008

After almost seventeen years, my favorite traveling companion and best bed buddy left me for the final journey she had to do on her own, and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I've been through a lot of changes in 17 years. The Divine Miss Marilyn has been my only constant.

She wasn't the kitten I was supposed to get. Good friend Deborah Kane of Galidorn Devon Rex offered me a lovely calico kitten to use as a foundation for my own breeding program. (CH) Galidorn's Barbara Gordon of Woodsprite ("Babs") was cute, spunky and personable... BUT... when I laid eyes on her litter sister, The Divine Miss Marilyn, I was completely, truly, hopelessly smitten.

Yes, I took both girls home. Marilyn, however, was the only cat or kitten I ever promised would never leave my home.

Equal parts ditziness and intense concentration, one minute she'd look at you like she'd never seen you before, and the next she'd be on your chest, patting at your face trying to get your attention. No matter how many times you could set her down, she'd pop right back up and persistently push her way into your attention. Then, when she'd had enough, she'd wander off, but toss questions and comments over her shoulder as she ambled from room to room.

Like all true divas, the Divine Miss Marilyn had a full actresses range of volume, tone, and vibrato -- everything from whispered "meffs" to sweet-voiced queries to full-throated, Marlena Dietrich moans, to outboard motor purrs that could be heard across the room.

I kept my promise.

I miss her terribly already. I wish I could do this tribute better. Maybe later, when it doesn't hurt this much.
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If any of you are in the memorial spirit, I would request that donations go the Morris Animal Foundation.

The End of the Line

This just hasn't been a good year for our feline friends.


Sweet little Matata has crossed the Rainbow Bridge.


Condolences to Elisson, SWMBO, Elder Daughter and the Mistress of Sarcasm. I know that little fuzzball will be greatly missed.

Drive-Bys

The door swings open, and we peek fearfully inside to find Ditzy Ward Clerk, standing there covered with the eruption from a veritable shit volcano. She is coated from head to toe in shit and tiny clumps of pulpy toilet paper. The only part of her that isn't brown is the whites of her eyes, and they're as big as saucers.

Just one more reason I love reading AD.
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Bwaaaaaahahahaha!!!
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Barking mad. Totally. (Gack.)
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Omnibus Driver will have to write:

I will stop drawing offensive cartoons

'What will you have to write on the chalk board?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Hmmm... they must have mistaken me for this guy.

Leslie will have to write:

I will not accidentally light my hair on fire

'What will you have to write on the chalk board?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Oddly, I recently had a dream wherein someone did just that. Spooky.

(A tip of the cap to LL.)
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You've got to love a protective papa.
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Future Darwin Award winners here.
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Just. Doesn't. Get it.
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Outstanding display of parenting skills.
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Mine are bigger than yours. Dammit.