O! M! G!

Remember MySpace?

That little social networking site BEFORE Facebook?

The one that renamed itself MY_____ ? Yea.. clever stupid!

Anyway…

So I used to have a MySpace My____ account and on that account I used to have a blog.

And because I’ve been up all night and was trying to find something from my past, I stumbled upon this blog.. the dates are from July 5, 2007 to April 2008 .. so basically before I met Chief and a little after I met him.

This was the time that I was living with my mom after leaving the Spawn From Satan’s Ass.

I had too blogs before this MySpace My____ blog but I couldn’t find them. Well, one was on Bravenet that I’m almost positive I deleted (what the HELL possessed me) and the other was on MSN Live. That’s the one I wanted to find but couldn’t.

Anyway.. I  decided to move all those posts over here but with the original date.. so if you’re interested, you’ll be seeing the month and year listed on the Archive list on the left ..

I won’t change anything.. I might regret it, LoL .. but I’ll leave them as they are!

2011 Intentions

I don’t do “resolutions” but when I read somewhere about someone making “intentions” because it’s less pressure I was like THAT’S IT!!

NOTE: Apologies to who ever I stole that from.. it may have been from a blog or on Facebook.. maybe even Bethenny Frankle’s twitter.. not sure so sorry for forgetting!

Anyway..

So I know with the New Year, it’s a good time to reflect, take stock and make the changes in your life that will make you a better, healthier person so I thought that I’d share mine with you.

IN 2011, LEESE INTENTS TO:

• Invent a gadget that prevents the bathroom door from opening unless the toilet is flushed. Being the only person in the house without a dangling thing makes this necessary!
• Not eat the whole bag of Stacy’s Parmaesan and Garlic Pita Chips. Frankly, it doesn’t take long to kill a bag and while they are way more then delicious, what they do to the back end on the way out isn’t pretty. Nothing is worth feeling that bad over.
• Be more conscience on how I act, what I say or things that I do representing my faith. This is a serious one, I know, but as I get older and face the things I have to face, I realize how important Christ is and more importantly, where I would be without Him. Rather, where I wouldn’t be.
• Not curse so much. It isn’t lady-like!
• Not make fun of Chief and his obsession with reading the Drudge Report and watching REAL! LIVE! UFO VIDEOS! on You Tube.
• Not roll my eyes when Chief tells me of yet another state where millions of dead birds fell from the sky. Really… no! seriously!
• Keep the back seat of my car clean. It doesn’t bode well when I try to get the kids to clean their rooms and they tell me that my car looks like a homeless person lives in it.
• Not forget to feed the fish. Those poor fish.
• Cuddle more with Bella. The old girl is getting up in years and with all the attention that Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy and the cats get, I really don’t want her to feel left out. Although she’s probably more then happy to just eat, sleep and poop without the having to pretend she’s excited that I’m sitting on the floor next to her keeping her from sleeping.
• Not quote lines from the Real Housewive’s franchise.
• Stop justifying polygamy to Chief. Not that I would ever want to practice it, mind you.. but really, how awesome would it be to have a sister wife to do the laundry.. another to do the cleaning.. another to do the ironing.. another to clean the *gag* bathroom.. you get the idea!! LOL
• Learn more about Dr. Who then Chief does.. and he knows A LOT!!!
• Continuing writing all my blogs.. and play less Zuma Blast on Facebook. Ok. No.. I don’t think I can do that!

So that’s what I came up with so far. As me in a month and I’ll let you know how it’s going!

But you know.. Stacy’s Parmesan and Garlic Pita Chips sound awwwwffuuullly good right now!!

Let The PLOCK Wars Begin…

Ok.. so if you’ve read this post then you know that I’ve been in this crazy PLOCK war with my cousin DD.

I finally bested her one morning with a ridiculous score of 766,700. For a one minute game, that’s HUGE.

But then DD started coming up with higher scores. Initially I thought that her ability to score high had to do with the fact that I was using a laptop and she would play at work using a desktop.

Make sense, right?

So I started using the desktop and I actually did worse.

I then thought that.. yknow.. maybe both my laptop and my fingers were throwing a mutiny on my brain and getting sick of playing PLOCK.

So I laid it off a while. A day, maybe. Not even.. maybe a few hours!! LOL!!

Anyway.. so I log into Facebook and open PLOCK and guess what I see??????

DD had broken a million!

NO.

FUCKING.

WAY!!

There is NO possible way that she was getting that score with out help. And I know exactly what help she was getting.

There’s a bot program that someone created that greatly increases your score. I KNOW she’s using it.. I also know that she’s NEVER going to tell me that she’s using it.

And so the competitive little bitch in me spent 6 Euro (10 USD ) for the program last night..

It still takes some degree of play because the user still has to manipulate the program .. it’s not automatic.. so it really isn’t a guarantee that you’ll get high score. But it helps. ALOT.

Now.. take a look at this:

That's my kindergarten picture.. don't ask!

Beat that, Bitch!!

LOL .. she probably will!

The first time I used the program, my school was 900,000+ .. so in keeping with the cloak and dagger bullshit, I posted this message on Facebook:

Let the war begin!!!

PLOCK This!!!!!

Ok…

So I know that I just posted about how busy I was with the holidays and stuff but I have a confession to make.

I’m a PLOCK addict.

SUPER-addict some would say… and have, I might add.

It all started with my insane need to beat my cousin DD at Facebook games.

I have no idea why .. maybe because she’s so damn good that my competitive spirit kicked in.

Anyway.. if you’ve never played PLOCK .. it’s just this little 1 minute bullshit game where you just break boxes.

DD was racking up 400,ooo … 500,ooo points IN. ONE. MINUTE.

No.. no.. no.. no.. this did not sit well with me..

And so I played and played and played and played and played some more and FINALLY.. FINALLY.. broke the 500,000 mark.

And life was good…

Life was REAL good…

Until the next time DD played and she broke 750,000.

WHAT THE FUCK?????

So I prayed to the PLOCK gods.. offered up any one of Chief’s spawn.. even sacrificed the spider that’s been living in the bathroom.. and guess what?

BOO-fuckin’-YA!!!!!

In case you don’t have your reading glasses on.. that says 766,700 BITCHES!!

Beat that, DD!!!

It All Started With A Hairbrush…

See this picture here???

That’s ME… in.. um… 1971??? And no, that’s not a typo, ok? OK? OK??????

Anyway, I found this on Facebook.

Facebook is obviously filled with ALOT of people who think it’s a REALLY GOOD idea to dig through boxes of pictures in their mother’s basement so that they can start a group JUST FOR their KINDERGARTEN CLASS from 1971!!!!

Ok.. so I’m not really that perturbed about it.. I actually think it’s kinda funny since I SO remember the day this picture was taken!!

My kindergarten class (the epitome of child indoctrination of the cult that is Catholicism) was divided between the morning class and the afternoon class. I was in the afternoon class. Probably because my mother knew even at age 5 that I wasn’t a morning person!

Now.. yknow.. since I was soaking in testosterone stew for 3 months before I born.. I was a major tomboy. Scraped knees.. smudged nose.. always climbing on something and then falling off it.. so when picture day came and my mother insisted on putting me in a DRESS… I was SO not in cooperative mood.

And then…

THEN…

She had the AUDACITY to try and attack me with a brush.

Of all damn things… a brush!

She tried to literally brush my hair.

Can you believe that???

BRUSH.

MY.

HAIR?????

What the HELL was she thinking?

Now.. I know my mother was trying to comes to terms with her daughter being a tomboy and just wouldn’t submit to it so she kept my hair long. Long hair on tomboys is NOT a good thing… so when she literally had to force me on the kitchen chair kicking and screaming to brush the mass of tangled knots that was my hair, I screamed bloody murder.

And when I say screamed, I mean S.C.R.E.A.M.E.D

Screamed SO loud that the neighbor that lived either behind us or next door to us :: I don’t remember :: thought something was REALLY REALLY wrong in our house and called the police.

I believe.. since it was 1971.. this was before the 911-era

Do you know how embarrassing it was for my mother to have the police show up at her door because her tomboy daughter SCREAMED at having her hair brushed for a kindergarten picture in 1971??

I’ll give you a hint… PRETTY FUCKING EMBARRASSING!!

After hearing the situation.. and me so NOT seeing the opportunity to bust my parents for being completely abusive for not allowing their 5 year old tomboy to wear PF Flier sneakers or for buying me a GIRL’S bike instead of a boy’s bike.. the cop gave me a stern lecture and stood there watching while my mother just stuck some stupid pony tails in my head.

Freakin’ Dudley Dooright!

So after enduring the three hour afternoon kindergarten class where EVERYBODY had just something to say about my dress and pony tails, my mother AND FATHER :: I so remember my stomach dropping when I came out of school AND SAW THE CAR! :: picked me up.. took me home.. and did THIS to my hair

Look at that BIG ASS SMILE!!!

Now you tell me I wasn’t happier with kitchen scissor chopped up hair!!