Oldest living groupies.

While we are on the subject of my mother, I have to say it wasn't all an eye rolling experience. Sometimes my mother was a hoot.

My cousin Johnny has always played in a band for as long as I can remember. And his mother, my aunt, was so proud of him. This one year he happened to be playing a venue close to where we lived so she asked my mother to attend with her.

Of course, that meant that I would be the one transporting my mother. As always, it was a given. But this time I was looking forward to it, I hadn't heard him play in years.

So, we agree to go and my aunt tells us that Johnny has left our name at the door so we can get right in. Sweet.

You have to note that my mother was in her 70's at the time and my aunt was even older (although my aunt was always what the old chicks call 'spry')

So, we are heading for the door, two old chicks and me, going to a rock concert. Mind you, this sort of music did draw an older crowd but even so, we did receive some stares.

I start to giggle to myself. My aunt goes ahead, she is already searching for a seat when my mother walks right over to the ticket table and announces ...

"I'm with the band."

The look on their faces was worth the price of admission.

About time.

Bunny slippers arrived last night.

Shhhhh....they are sleeping.

UPDATE: New start date, October 25th.

Knock it off, or I will knock it down!

The odd, well timed, inspirational, bring awareness to a problem video is all well and good.

Just keep it off my FunWall please.

I open my Facebook and prepare to smile. What embarrassing pictures did Potsie post from his weekend at the Moose & Squirrel? Who's having a birthday, gotta post some silly animated birthday card. How many old farts from high school can I track down today. HA, someone sent me a friendship turd. This is a happy place, right?

Holy Shit! 16 dead kid videos on my FunWall? WTF? When I see those videos I get enraged, I want to hunt down the asshole who hurt those children and have them sand blasted or skinned alive. Right after I find the asshole who posted this on my FunWall and punch them in the throat!

It's called a FunWall people. Not a 'depress the shit out of everyone you know wall', the name was a little wordy so they went with FUN! Ya, you cringed at the 'dead kid' reference. "Not very sensitive or PC of you Evel." But that is exactly what I mean. I sound insensitive because they have desensitized me.

It seems there are some people who do nothing but sit and watch 'dead kid' videos and post them on everyone else's wall. How fucking depressing is that?

I am not saying don't try and bring awareness to child abuse or drunk driving but there is a time and a place for everything. I am trying to cram a little fuckin' joy into my otherwise shitty life, "You're bringing me down, Man!"

Keep that shit off my FunWall......
or I swear to God I will tear that mo'fo' down!

Stick it to 'em!

I just had to stop yesterday and take a picture of the local Subway sign.



Don't worry, the sign facing McDonald's does not say this. You do not want to get the clown riled.

Bump? Possibly, but definately not grind.

You know you are old when you start identifying where you are based on what used to be there 10 years ago.

"I'm just passing where the Pink Panther used to be."

or

"Take a right at the old Canadian Tire building."

I don't know why, but I am feeling my age more now. Thirty wasn't such a big deal, neither was 40 really. But that might all just be because I wasn't really around a lot of people younger than me before I started at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™.

The last few weekends I have been invited out drinking. In my mind I think for a second, 'hey, it might be fun.' Then I really give it some thought, reality hits me and I realize that I am really not interested. The thought of watching a bunch of 20-somethings bump and grind, drinking themselves stupid makes my skin crawl. I would sooner gouge my eyes out with a melon baller.

I am, however, of the age where I could totally get behind a house party. maybe not an 'entire' house party, but what we call in the Maritimes a kitchen party. The difference? I guess a house party implies enough people to fill your house. Whereas a 'kitchen' party is much more intimate. Let me look that up in Wikipedia...Looks like there is nothing on the web, that is curious.

Ok, for those not from around here, a kitchen party is the traditional Atlantic Canadian social gathering. It usually involves someone playing a musical instrument. Definitely guitar and sometimes fiddles, harmonicas or spoons if you are lucky. These types of gatherings are always a blast. There is no bumping and definately no grinding. Unless you count Uncle Bob who has about as much rhythm as a bag of hammers.

I miss the days of the kitchen party. There were no plans, people just showed up (usually at the same kitchen every weekend) and you would sit around, drink and shoot the shit. There was food, so no one got too shit faced. You can still find them, I suppose, if you look hard enough but they are few and far between.

I think I will have to try and look a little harder since I am definately long past my bumping and grinding expiry date.

I just don't have the bone structure for it anymore.

When you get old, there are some things you just have to come to terms with. Gone are the days when you could drink all night and wake up in a chair, grab the nearest beer and start all over. Sooner or later, pot ceases to send you flying and just kicks you in the ass, rendering you unconscious within minutes.

I went to a friends staggette Satruday night. I was not planning on drinking. Mainly because I hate leaving my car anywhere and going through all the bullshit of getting it back the next morning. Anyway, the bride's mother convinced me to have a few. At first I said no but she presented me with a Chocolate Russian. Ok, I was committed.

As long as we were at the house, shootin' the shit on the back deck, it was fun. I had made my decision and I was prepared to get shit-faced. I did not, however, manage to get shit-faced before they decided to take the party on the road and visit the local 'Pick-a-Pig'.

I don't do crowds very well and a crowd of drunken 20-somethings is not something I look forward to.

I made it to just outside the pub. I am sitting in the car watching the patrons pour out of the pub. A group crosses the street, one girl yells back some obscenity to the bouncer and falls flat on her ass. There she was, in all her glory with her skirt jacked up around her waste revealing a very unfortunate choice in undergarments.

At that moment my decision was made. Reality slapped me in the face. "I am definately not drunk enough to go in there."

Guess I will just quietly rage against the dying of the light. Ok, maybe not rage, more like whimper pitifully.

25,000 facebook stalkers later and ...

Just some proof that FaceBook is evil.

Greg Yorke (aka Red) has stated that if 25,000 people join this Facebook group that he will get a tattoo of ATV anchorman Bruce Frisko somewhere on his body.



Well, now he has to put his butt cheek money where his mouth is.

"As of right now the tattoo is planned for Saturday, May 12th at Bubbles Mansion! ... The Frisk himself will be there, and lots of media. Cheap drinks too! More details to come!"

Proceeds from the event will go to a good cause, so I guess it isn't that evil.

More shit that cracks me up.

I have this thing on my iGoogle page, it's a Chuck Norris Fact Generator taken from over at Beer & Sympathy.


It always makes me laugh no matter what kind of shit ass day I am having.

Also found at Beer & Sympathy. Cyanide and Happiness

What's in a name?

Do you think if I had a cutsie name, I would have a different personality? Could you take a 'fuck you, asshole' from someone named Bambi seriously?

I mean if I was a Melody or an Candi, would you read my blog and hear a different tone? Could you imagine me really grabbing the cat by the face and throwing him off the deck if my name were Rainbow or Meadow? Hey, I was born in the 60's, it could have happened.

For those of you who don't know my name, what would you imagine it to be? What could you not imagine it being?

Do you think your personality matches your name? Do you know anyone who's name does not match their personality? It happens a little less frequently in men but don't you notice that if a guy has a geeky name he usually turns out to be a geek?

I often wondered, if my mother had named me something more feminine, would I have been more girly? Less abrasive?

I would be interested in hearing your thoughts on this.

55 Years!

I hadn't realized it had been kickin' for so long. All I knew is that it had been there for as long as I could remember.



There were 6 of us kids, in a station wagon. I couldn't say for sure if they took us all at once, but I remember dressing in our PJ's and taking a blanket and a pillow and heading for the car. Off to the drive-in. Mom would pack a lunch and dad would pick up the pepsi on the way.

Back then the speakers were on a pole. Large steel speakers that weighed a ton. And inevitably one person would drive away with it stuck in their window. If they were lucky the cord would break and not the glass.

The music isn't quite right on this one, but it is the same movie I remember. Well, everything before 2:37 anyway. Ours just repeated after that. We didn't get any of the other shit.



They actually tried to take it away a few times, one time it was kittens and puppies, not sure what the hell they were thinking. Anyhow, people expected to see this intermission show and enough people complained so they brought it back.

I remember being at the drive-in with The Boy's Father. We were baked, car filled with smoke, watching the intermission show in silence. Until TBF pipes up, dead serious, "That is one talented hot dog."

I know. And that was before I was even sleeping with him.

Why the Good Lord needs to thin the herd.

A horse, a chicken & a Harley

Just had to share this one with you.

On the farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of whom loved to play together.

One day the two were playing, when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink. Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken to go get the farmer for help!

Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor.
Running around, the chicken spied the farmer's new Harley. Finding the keys in the ignition, the chicken sped off with a length of rope hoping he still had time to save his friend's life.

Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive on the shiny Harley, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him. After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer's bike, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful bike, rescued the horse! Happy and proud, the chicken rode the Harley back to the farmhouse, and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned.

The friendship between the two animals was cemented: Best Buddies, Best Pals.

A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mud pit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life! The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle. Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his hangy-down thing and he would then lift him out of the pit. The chicken got a good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life.

The moral of the story? (yep, you betcha, there is a moral!)

When You're Hung Like A Horse, You Don't Need A Harley To Pick Up Chicks!

The perfect man.

"All I'm looking for is a guy who'll do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want, and then go away. Or wait nearby, like a Dust Buster, charged up and ready when needed." -Maxine

It takes time, but he can be found.

Trust me.

Someone should alert Halmark.

This is a greeting card gold mine.

I wish I could give you that sunset.
I wish I could give you that rainbow.
I wish I could give you that wedding you always wanted.
Here's a Hershey bar.
Have some patience, please.
I'm only one fucking person.

Just realized I missed Valentine's Day.

How'd that work out for you?

I am old, but I am not dead.

A post on Rad's site reminded me of a story.

Picture it, Sicily...

All us old hens are sitting around, shooting the shit. A door opens up and a bunch of people stream out. One of the prettiest boys I have ever seen catches my eye.

He is very young. No really. I mean, he is obviously old enough to work here, but he is very young. I feel lecherous, just looking at him but I can't let him walk by without comment.

"Ah, if I were only 10 years younger." The girls look at me, waiting. "Well, I would still be a pedophile. Only, you know, 10 years younger." Look of shock.

"So I would be out of jail by now. With the ability to say I totally tapped that."

A fun new Google game.

Google Search: "Eva is"

Eva is........net operating profit minus an appropriate charge for the oportunity cost of all capital invested in entreprise. (a mouthfull)
Eva is........inside her cat.
Eva is........now closed.
Eva is........coming.
Eva is........a joint project by libraries, publishers and expert organizations, beingpart of the strategy program Education, training and Research.
Eva is........well educated in Islamic customs and techniques for self-improvement via thirteen intensive years in spiritual Sufi training
Eva is........a CGI language that does everything you need: interactive shopping, games, database retrieval and posting
Eva is........not just a new perfomance measurement fad, it's ...
Eva is........a beautiful vintage purse with ROSES!

Want to play? Just type in your name with the word "is" in google and see what you come up with. Use brackets or google will ignore is. Have fun.