So I’m sitting in my living room, minding my own business, when I hear the first strains of an odd tinny music. I cock my head, as do the dogs, while it gets progressively louder. And louder. AND LOUDER.

I go outside to see what the hell is going on and low and behold, I see this.

A fucking ice-cream truck! (Well, in this case, and ice cream VAN.) Unless you live in buttfucknowhere with a population of 23 people, when was the last time you saw and heard an actual ice cream truck? It even had the old style mega phone looking thing stuck on above the windshield. See Steve! This is what you miss by leaving me for 3 weeks to go sailing on the other side of the country! YOU MISS THE ICE CREAM MAN! SEE!!!!!

Dear Asshole,

As teens, some of us mastered the art of wearing something and then returning it to the store. We did this mostly as a lark, or out of desperation for something acceptable to wear some place that we couldn’t afford. Even as teens, we knew that this was breaking the rules. We were young. We were stupid.

You, oh king of the jackasses, looked to be late 20’s early 30’s. And un-fucking-believably, your defense/justification for yelling at the clerk while trying to return that sweat and smoke smelling filthy dress shirt was “Well I should have been told that I couldn’t wear it and return it. I wasn’t told that.”

Are you fucking kidding me? It looks like you humped a bus load of hookers in the alley while wearing it and now you want your money back because you’re done with it? You weren’t told that you can’t rent shirts? Holy Mary Mother of Dog, how are people as stupid as you not beaten to death in their teens?

Oh, but while I’m thinking about it, I wasn’t told that punching you in the throat right there & then could have resulted in an arrest or court case. I get a free fucking ride people, BECAUSE I WASN’T TOLD!

Sincerely,

Kim

Best quote (or conversation) ever.

Me- “So you like the new house?”

Suz-”I love it. It smells like you.”

Me-”What does that mean?”

Suz-”Uhm, almost spicy? Like a traveler.”

-Susin

As a child, or even a younger adult, who did you look up to? My hero was always my crazy mother. Perhaps a strange choice for a role model given her “eccentric nature” but that was who I looked up to. I am shocked at the roles models that kids today chose. (I know, I’m a pair of polyester slacks and one “early bird” dinner special away from checking myself into an intermediate care facility, right?)

But seriously.

Have you flipped through a magazine lately? I use to laugh when the generic carbon copy people like Paris Hilton and such would say things like “I take my position as a role model very seriously.” To me it was all very amusing. Until that is, I realized that young kids do look up to ridiculous characters like that. Most of them are famous for simply existing- famous for nothing really- and that scares the shit out of me a little bit.

Odd that the world would turn into a place where my pot smoking, turtle stealing from the zoo, hash brownie making, trucker mouth, hard working mother would be the better role model.

Jesus in a sandwich do I ever feel sorry for today’s kids. (Now pass me the damn alka seltzer.)

My little man is gone after a brilliant weekend long visit & Steve leaves tomorrow for almost a month in Nova Scotia.

Yeah. Fuck you too.

Unfortunately for me I have known Susin for almost 30 years and therefore if her son “mysteriously” goes missing, my house will be the first place that she will look.

Gray & I have viewed a grizzly bear together which means that we are bonded for life (albeit behind a large fence, but whatever.). And he will eat protein for me. It’s love.

So I’m going to go kick shit and break something now. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be the scowling fucking bitch in the corner.

Imagine you are one of two American journalist being held–for months– as criminals in a country that is run by a freaky little psycho like, uhm, North Korea for instance.

Now imagine you are randomly summoned to a room. What would you think? A beating? A weird interrogation? A move to simply confuse and frighten you further?

Now imagine that you walk into that room and are greeted by none other than Bill Clinton, who is wearing a blue ribbon winning shit eating grin. Besides the obvious moment of “WTF?”

What would you think?

Personally, I’d look around with great suspicion. That would be the most elaborately set up episode of “Punk’d” ever. And then I would kick Ashton Kutcher’s ass.

(For any of you oldies out there- replace “Punk’d” with “Candid Camera”. See? You get it now? Told you I was fucking funny.)