apology and explanation.

Please ignore the post below this. Specifically, the one entitled with a dot com name. I had to post my review on the web site on a blog for it to get counted. My apologies to you, the reader.

http://www.accessdna.com

My opinion of the website, http://www.accessdna.com, is a good one overall. The informative material on the page is very good. It does seem that this web site has just begun its life in cyber-world, though. I say this because in the forum area, there are few questions that have been asked, but I see no visible answers. Maybe the answers are emailed to your account via your membership with this group. I am unsure of that. It seems to me, that this web site is well on its way to becoming the premier site to visit if one is researching any genetic material.

randomness.

insomnia rocks my socks.

okay, not really. i find her to be quite the antagonistic bitch. bleh. she always shoots me her demented smile when C is at work; its like a super wicked game of hide and seek.

i've got to super duty clean my house between now and friday. okay, that's not really a problem, except for the fact that our washing machine has recently been diagnosed with being bi-polar. damn moody bitch.
she's either happy and swishing our clothes about in her favorite flavored mouthwash, usually arm & hammer tropical scent or something or another. if she's not happy, bitch gets all emo and unresponsive. shrouded in black clothes, and donning black lipstick, she yells "fuck you," when she's feelin down.

thats alright. i won't say a word to her. she'll get felt up by Mr. Fix-It, she'll blush, flash a smile, blush, get lost in her daydreams about her newfound crush on Mr. Fix-It, as she gets back to work swishing our clothes around her mouth.

ya know, this shit isn't right. i have issues. i mean, who the fuck thinks of this shit? i give life to absolutely random inanimate objects. i'm sure that is like some kind of disorder or something. hell, maybe its just the sleep deprivation.

anyways, i'm thinking about the holidays already. worrying about money. i'm sure that's everyone, considering the financial state this country is currently in. in fact, i'm actually making a present for a friend of mine. wood carving/grinding/engraving is turning out to be kinda fun. but i tell you one thing- the engraver is LOUD. i mean it is L-O-U-D. helen keller could hear that shit, man. maybe i'll see if i can make presents for a couple more people, to save money. besides, it means more coming from the heart anyways. i'm just trying my best to attempt to alleviate some of C's stress and worries about time and money for the holidays. great stars! that sounds like an adult.

i never agreed to grow up. how can i undo this catastrophe? anybody?




all that we love deeply becomes a part of us -helen keller

also in the words of helen keller: .............

Without ME, it's just AWESO.

sunday, honey treated us to TCBY, and boy!! it was completely scrumptious!!

after a quick stop in at her parents' house, then to our new house, we made our way over to see what cutie pie waylon was up to. we crossed the field in our truck, to find waylon and his sister target shooting and skeet shooting. my honey bunny got in on the action. she managed to not only get bullseye, and she shot 2 skeets off in a row!! it was kinda hot. seriously!! i know she loathes the fact that i adore butches, but my stars!! she was hot shootin off them there rifles!!



i am incredibly nervous about this upcoming weekend. my mother and brothers are coming to stay the night at my house. i needed help painting the interior of our house, so i told honey that i'd call in the troops, and here they come. just kinda... odd though. my mother staying the night at my house. weird, man, just weird. i know that it'll be a blast, but still, i can't find the words to express what i'm thinking about that. its almost surreal that i am 26 years old, that pops is dead, my mom is coming to stay the night at my house, an hour and fourty-five minutes from her, to help me paint my new house,with my almost thirteen year old baby brothers. so surreal.

all things come full circle, eventually. babies grow up to be mamas and daddies. the world spins on her axis to gaze upon the all the constellations in the heavens. pain heals into love. daughters become their mothers. and the tide turns yet another day.

so wrong.

currently my voice sounds like a mixture of my normal self and a deflating whoopie cushion all rolled into one. enticing, isn't it? yesterday the doctor prescribed medication for this viral thingy in my throat. he offered me: mouthwash, pill, or a liquid. i chose the mouthwash. he forewarns me that its nasty, but i nonchalantly shrug my shoulders, acting like a retarded badass, and say, "no problem."

WRONG.

that crud is not nasty, no. its NASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY. its lydocane GEL mouthwash/gargle. the bastard who invented this shit is one sick and twisted son of a bitch. its worse than a mixture of rubbing alcohol, imodium liquid, and castor oil. oh. my. effing. stars. if its a man who invented it, i hope his nuts shrivel up and he talks in a soprano octave for the remainder of his life. if a chick invented it, i want to go kick her in her noonoo, her taco...until baby bush admits one hundred percent responsibility for all the war crimes he committed.

its pointless to note, but i shall anyways, i'll be calling my doctor monday morning for that pill to replace this crap. i tell you, this shit should be used at guantanamo bay for their torture techniques. screw waterboarding. this shit is guaranteed to work more efficiently.

sam.

after my mom remarried, i instantaneously hated going to my dad's every other weekend. at the time, even though i was ignorant to the dynamics of the relationship between my dad, mom, and stepmom, i knew this was going to be a bad thing. not that my mom marrying my stepdad was bad at all,...he was great. he took me fishing, boating, putt-putting...all the things dads and daughters are supposed to do. steve took time to get to know me. he appreciated the fact that mom and i were a package deal.
but when my dad married my stepmom,...well that was just another playing field all together. my earliest memory of her, was when i was with dad on his weekend, and he was going to take me and his then new GF, to see his lifelong friend, "Puck." dad still had the old blue ford truck that he had while still married to my mom. when we piled into the truck, his GF pitched a fit to sit in the middle, and i to the window seat. now mind you, this was a bench seat old ass ford truck. it was a seriously tough truck, i'll give it that. but it had no bells and whistles. it was a rough and tough man's man kind of truck. typically, in these situations, the kid sits in the middle because the kid is the smallest. wrong. (in this instance atleast.) i remember riding out there to the country, while she was all over my dad like an over perfumed, salvation army rent-a-suit.
i remember once we got there, we all walked into the living room, where i was cast aside, so the new gf could lavish him with praises and such nonsense. i was left to fend for myself. i wandered outdoors to find Puck's children playing on the trampoline at the trailer across the field. on my way to the fun, i saw something out of the corner of my eye in the knee high grass. i screamed bloody murder. i was a city girl; i knew nothing of these ghastly beasts of nature.
like pavlov's dogs, dad responded immediately to my call. trailing closely behind him was the gf. i thought he'd be mad at me, but i am guessing that his new source of ass, was pacifying him enough to counterbalance any irritations caused by me. he laughed a deep laugh upon seeing the cause of my blood curdling screams. it was the kind of laugh that you couldn't tell if it was just a great big hearty laugh, or a bone chilling evil laugh. he bent over and picked up the unsightly beast; a dime sized turtle.
he bent down on his knees to be at my height, and showed me the slimy thing was cute as a bedbug. it could cause no harm, he said. looming over his shoulder, looking down on me, she snickers. something inside of had the foresight and knowledge to recognize that she, she would be the one who causes harm. i think it was then that i resigned to the fact that i lost my dad that day. she was the death of daddy's relationship with me; she would be the death of it all.
still on his knees, he asked if i wanted to keep him, and i ecstatically said yes to domesticating my new best friend for life. he smiled one of the only, if not THE only smile i can ever recall that he gave me. "what will you name him," he asked. "Sam," i said, "Sam sounds like a good name."
"that it does," he said, as he picked me up to leave. she again saw to it that i had the window seat. but i was okay with the seating arrangements that time. i held Sam, and whispered to him, "i'll save you from her, i'll take you to a good home."
over a decade later, the gf-turned-wicked-stepmother-of-the-west gave birth to the prodigal son. a son named Sam. Sam got saved from her, too. he got a good home, a real home.

nerd speak.

with the turning of a page, a new chapter begins. pages lined with streams of words, full of possibilities. what will become of our country? has the dark lord himself infiltrated our government, disguised as a savior in our time of desparity? one has to be foolish to not concede that the synopsis of the star wars series has no similarities to america's government.
our light sabers too weak for combat; all has been stolen from us as a people, as americans. our rights to live freely, our dignity, our families, our monies... only to be replaced by the wolf in sheeps' clothing pretending to give away free presents wrapped with sparkling glitter. inside the gift, nothing is found. only air. the wolf says, "here, my child, i give you despair. but look! it is wrapped in the finest glitter cultivated from out protected lands. look how it shines!!"
what the wolf failed to realize, was that the box was not indeed void. it was quite the opposite, actually; for it held all the hope it possibly could. filled to the brim, shoved in, smushed in. but its there. the wolf cannot see it; for greed has clouded his vision. but to us mere pions, we do see the glitter. we see the hope, the one thing impossible to steal.
with the jedi masters disbanded and murdered, only two held onto the hope. luke and leia. ultimately, the underdog prevails and the jedis are reunited with a rejuvenated sense of hope. the force restored. much like this election.
have we freely handed over total control and power to our savior or our adversary? we still have hope. thats all we have. history has been made, lines erased, and a new chapter begins. may the force be with you.