Things I Should Not Be Allowed to Do, and What a Nostalgic Feeling

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The Right to Bear Arms Shall Not be Infringed…

Hello Kitty supports the 2nd Amendment.  Do you?

I need to stay away from my granddaughter’s coloring books.

I have to say I got the idea from a lovely website called Coloring Book Corruptions  and it is funny.  Hello Kitty with grenades and mortars and an M-16.  Shame on me.  I probably shouldn’t show her getting a contact buzz from a field mouse either.

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Terrible, I know.

I remember how much fun I used to have with old magazines scribbling on the faces and making people look like they drooled or had snot all over them.  Puerile and sophomoric, yes, I get that, but I need some kind of harmless artistic outlet.  It’s cool that I’ve discovered one can do a similar thing with cross-stitch patterns, where you stitch samplers of skulls and knives and gory images with off color and pithy sayings.  There are books out there with the patterns ready made, but before I buy those I’d like to experiment with a few of my own.

It’s been a long time since I really sat down and enjoyed some cross-stitch.  That’s a shame because it can be relaxing.

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Oh, yes they will.

I may have some time for such relaxing pursuits this weekend, as we are supposed to get a big old dose of the White Death here in beautiful Central Ohio on Sunday.  Joy and rapture.  I am not going anywhere in it even if I am driving a 4X4. What people don’t realize is that 4 wheel drive does not make you invincible.  It gives you a bit more traction on snow, but it is not worth a tinker’s damn on freezing rain or ice.  The last thing I need is to have something happen to Jerry’s truck.  He’s rather cavalier when it’s my car involved, but if it’s his truck, that’s a whole different situation.  I’m sure he wouldn’t be sitting around for a month waiting on it to get fixed.

I’m still waiting on my car to be finished.  The last I saw it, they were repairing the decklid and the finish panel under the decklid that is beneath the rear fascia.  The new rear fascia hasn’t been painted yet and neither has the decklid or finish panel.  I am satisfied, however, that the small dent in the finish panel has been duly repaired, treated and primed so the back of my car doesn’t rust out from the inside.

My freaking out about whether or not my car is repaired correctly is worse than when medical people have to be patients in a hospital or doctor’s office.  I’ve been around automotive repair my entire life and I am all too aware of what can and does go wrong.  I see it every flipping day.

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Nasty.

And yes, I have seen cars fall off of racks.  This is not pretty, and in both instances that I witnessed, it was only the Hand of God that kept the unfortunate techie from being splattered.

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Surprisingly, the vehicles usually aren’t that horribly damaged when they fall.

Unless they fall into something else…

I want my car back.  I also want the White Death to go away, so I can not be as paranoid about my car once I do get it back.  Only the White Death won’t go away for awhile yet.  It has yet to fade to the snowbooger grey sticky muck.   Here begins the February Funk, and it sucks ass.

A Road Trip for Miz Izz, The Gene Pool Needs Chlorine, and Entropy Can Be Entertaining

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15 is ancient, if you’re a cat.

I had to take poor Miz Izz to the vet on Saturday.  I did so with a bit of trepidation, because when a cat’s 15, anything can be the prelude to the dirt nap.  She has a funky condition on the pads of her front paws called plasma cell pododermatitis or what is commonly called “pillow foot.”  The paw pads swell up and sometimes even crack and bleed (this was the reason I took her to the vet.) Weirdly enough, it’s not a particularly dangerous condition, but given Miz Izz’s age, it can’t be surgically corrected.  The risk of surgery on a 5#, elderly cat is not worth the potential benefit, because it’s neither painful nor life threatening according to the vet.  It can be managed with occasional steroid/antibiotic injections and scuttlebutt has it that essential oils and Vitamin E can be helpful as well.  So she’s back on the fish oil and Vitamin E supplement which I probably should not have stopped giving her.  It does make her coat nice and shiny, and she doesn’t object to the taste, so if anything I don’t see where it would do any harm.

Most cats go ballistic in the car and have meltdowns in the vet’s office.  Not Miz Izz.  She will sit on the exam table quietly and let the vet do her thing.  Isabel was cooperative even when she was very young.  I can just zip her up in my hoodie and carry her around with no problem.  Jezebel also lets me just put her in my hoodie, and is just as laid back about the vet and riding in the car as Isabel is.  Fanny freaks out.  She is well near impossible to transport and has to be in a carrier.  I’ve not had to attempt transport with F.B.   F.B. is usually quite sanguine, but she does put up a wicked struggle over getting her flea treatment.

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Some people are very easily entertained.

The photo above is further evidence of the devolution of mankind.  Fifty years ago these people’s grandparents would have been engaging in the fine pastime of ballroom dancing:

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All I can think of is how bad those skirts have got to ITCH!

Every time I go to WalMart, I am reminded of how badly the gene pool needs chlorine.  Either that, or it might help to provide more full-length mirrors in public places so people can see how bloody ridiculous they look.  When your ass is the size of a Toyota Corolla, Spandex pants and a halter top are not sensible wardrobe choices.

It also doesn’t help to try to put camo pants over rhinoceros size butt cheeks.  The camo effect is lost when you’re working with that much surface area.

I ended up having to go home this afternoon with a nasty sore throat.  Yes, I went and had a strep test because it came on rather suddenly (the preliminary test was negative) so I am in bed swilling tea and wishing Jerry would shut up about not being able to find anything in the kitchen.  I’m not fetching anything for him.  I’m trying to get this shit to go away because I really don’t want to call off work tomorrow.  I have the vacation time, and the thought of a whole day of drinking tea and watching History Channel could be interesting, but I really hate taking days off (especially unplanned) because I end up having to fix nine kinds of disasters when I get back.

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I have, but dammit, I’m sick!

Diabolical Sabotage, How Not to Get Things Done, and Basically Farting Off

I really wanted to Get Something Done today.  Yeah, right.  So far I’ve been mollycoddling idiots, which is not my favorite thing to do.  It’s a few rungs above cleaning cat boxes, or my least favorite activity- which would have to be anything involving cleaning and sorting and/or getting dirty.  I am glad as hell I don’t have to go outside to work, and I am thankful for many other things I don’t have to do.  Still, it gets old when you’ve told the fifteen thousandth ass-pilot of the day that their stuff is not there yet because they are in the middle of a snowstorm.  Your route may potentially be delayed if the freeways are down to 10 miles an hour and zero visibility.  Look outside, you jackwagons!

Anyway I generally don’t like to fart off but my attention span is about that of paint right now.  As soon as I try to concentrate and get something done someone pesters me with something stupid, something that can wait, something I have no control over, etc. and so on.  If we weren’t short handed today I’d put my phone on voice mail and then see how many people solved their own problem/answered their own questions tomorrow.  I would say 85% of the people I talk to with an “urgent” problem either a.) have the answer to their own problem, or b.) are totally farking clueless to begin with, or c.) need to be talking to someone who can actually address their problem and do something about it.   The other 15% usually have a legitimate bitch, and/or something I can actually fix.  So I’m glad I don’t talk to people as much as I used to.  I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, intelligence is a constant, the population is growing. Unfortunately my patience with stupidity is shrinking which is probably not a good thing, being that stupidity is becoming ever more common.

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OK.  I’ve released some of my frustration with the unwashed masses of humanity.

I am generally not the “huggable” type, even on a good day.  What I would really like to do is go home and have a nice quiet evening of “Dirty Jobs,” cop shows and Chinese takeout.  Unfortunately these are the kind of days I come home to Mr. Drama Queen going off on how someone said something to hurt his feelings at work, so he’s got crank up the stereo, stay up until 1AM and drink a case of Natties to forget about it.

Well, back at it.   I might get something done before the end of the day but I doubt it very seriously.