Tuesday, October 26, 2021

Thanksgiving With Mildred

This past year has SUCKED! The other day this is the text message I sent out to my friends and family:
So, I won’t have to do this a dozen times, I’m writing one message regarding what’s been going on with me lately and sending it out to everyone I think wants to know. [and to hell with the people who don't want to know...]

Cardiac issues -The heart monitor I wore for two weeks showed many episodes of tachycardia. My heart rate fluctuated between 39-160 bpm. Based on those results and the near syncope episodes I have, my primary care referred me to a cardiologist. I haven’t heard anything from them yet. As soon as I do, I’ll get an appointment set up and I’ll go from there.

Rheumatology issues – The doctor put me on Enbrel for the “undetermined autoimmune disorder” I have. Hopefully, that’ll help with the inflammation throughout my body and relieve some of the pain associated with it.

Spine issues - I recently had two MRI’s done…lumbar and cervical. I don’t even know where to begin on that front…it looks like I’m headed back to the neurosurgeon once I get an appointment. I’m not looking forward to more back surgery, but it is what it is!

Labs issues – Lately, I’ve been battling having “wonky” levels on many of the things evaluated.

Along with that, my doctor called me a few days ago to tell me I’m severely anemic. I was given a prescription for an iron supplement and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to take iron through an IV infusion. Having gastroparesis makes what I can eat challenging, so I’m up for suggestions. I pretty much live on cottage cheese and smoothies because meat is too hard for me to digest.

No one has quite figured out the episodes of me almost passing out while having nausea/vomiting along with severe diarrhea. Everyone seems to have a theory, but no concrete answers yet on that front. For me, these episodes are the most problematic and worrisome out of anything, but I feel I’m in good hands and my primary care is very thorough with all the tests and labs she has me do. Eventually, they’ll have it figured out and I’ll be on the path to feeling better.

I want to thank everyone for their continued support and concern but remember I’m a tough old broad and I think I still have a few good miles left in me. I just need some much-needed maintenance and repairs! I guess it’s time for me to break out my roll of duct tape and chill out so I don’t feel so overwhelmed.💓

So with everything that this past year has thrown my way, I can only hope my Thanksgiving will look similar to this...


Sunday, August 08, 2021

The Time I Almost Kissed Young Mildred Good Bye

Ramping up to the Cuban Missile Crisis and as things started heating up with Russia way back in the late1950's and early1960's (The Pre-Stoned Age) students used to have air raid drills and were instructed on what to do if attacked by enemy missiles.  Was the term "friendly fire" even used then? What would have happened if one of out own missile silos had blown up or misfired or something?  Were we ever instructed on that?  Just a thought!  Oh, Uncle Sam doesn't make those kind of boo-boo's we all know that! Just ask any Republican. Weren't the big right-wingers back then the John Birch Society?

I lived in a city that had an air force base and can attest to the fact that when the Missile Crisis and nuclear war was a real threat we had frequent drills. Thank you for scaring the bejesus out of me, Nikita Khrushchev! Perhaps Vladimir Putin could learn a thing or two from you. [That's being written with Maine sarcasm if you aren't one who is fluent in Mildred...] 

The one thing they didn't tell us or give us any instructions about was what to do if a nuclear warhead hit and we were ground zero or anywhere close to ground zero. They weren't honest! No one told us that we could kiss our sweet young asses good-bye, but even as a small child I could see the real worry, the real concern in the adults eyes.  That's when I knew something was amiss.  That's when I knew something wasn't right in the world and it needed to be fixed pronto! 

Of course, they weren't going to frighten children like that and cause an outbreak of panic and and hysteria. I may have been just a kid, but I caught enough on the evening news to know what was going on and knew David Brinkley, Chet Huntley and Walter Cronkite were not some blowhards like Tucker Carlson, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh or Bill O'Reilly.  Can you even imagine that?  My mother would have popped a vein in her head if Walter Cronkite came off sounding like Rush Limbaugh.  OMG!  Or David Brinkley sounded like Tucker Carlson? Holy Christ! Say it isn't so! My father would dropped kicked the television set across the dooryard. And those were the days when people only had one television set per household.  It wasn't like how it is now with our pampered asses of today! Oh by the way, for those of you who weren't born and raised in Maine, a "dooryard" is your yard where you go to play as a child. 

That was back in the days when the news was just the news before it became fake and filled with guff from conspiracy theorists. We knew the threat was real because they told us it was real.  Why did we know that? Because they didn't lie! They told it like it was and only like it was. When exactly did that stop? 

The newspaper article is dated October 20, 1959. 

Saturday, July 31, 2021

Gone But Not Forgotten

As I look back at the past twenty years, one thing that has become the elephant in the room for me is the book that I have been jabbing at finishing. Oh, I have a list of excuses a mile long as to why this pet project never got completed.  Just to defend myself all of my excuses are valid ones, but I have to admit I have lollygagged when I could have plowed through the emotional angst and written THE END many times over.  One could assume I have a problem with completing things or with procrastination...both is probably true.  I've noticed in the last few years how unorganized I've become and how overwhelming everything seems to be at times.  I guess instead of just jumping in and getting things done at times when I feel overwhelmed, I back off.  Perhaps, the fear of success rattles my cage.  Perhaps if I complete my project, what's next?  Does something have to come next? Why can't I just exist in troglodytic nothingness?

So I'm recommitting myself to finishing this "project" and it's purely for my own satisfaction.  This story I'm writing is about my time in drug rehab.  Needless to say, it was a time of great emotional upheaval and self-discovery...among other things.  I'm going to be posting it online in blog form so if any of you are interested in reading it, I'll be posting the link to it soon.

As I've been working on it, names and faces have flooded my head.  One such name and face is that of Sharon Smith, a girl I once knew from what was once referred to as reform school (Stevens School For Girls).  Sharon and I escaped together and headed to Boston together where I ended up leaving her with some friends of mine there (long story).  I never saw Sharon again after that, but I always wondered what became of her until I discovered many year later that fate had been unkind to her and her family.  

Below is Sharon's story according to Noi Noi Ricker published on July 16, 2016 in the Bangor Daily News:

BANGOR, Maine — When Sharon Smith disappeared nearly 36 years ago, her siblings weren’t immediately worried.

“She had run away so many times, she was that type of person,” her brother Randy Smith of Lakeland, Florida, said Monday by phone. “It wasn’t like, ‘Oh my God, she’s missing.’ It was more, ‘She’ll be back next week.’”

But she didn’t come back.

The 25-year-old mother of two was last seen on or about Aug. 25, 1980, when she worked an evening shift at the Paramount Lounge, a gritty hotel bar in downtown Bangor known for its adult entertainment where she worked as a waitress and, occasionally, as a stripper.

Her mother, Carolee Smith, reported Sharon Smith missing at the time, resulting in a police investigation that appeared to go nowhere over the years until last month, when investigators dug up a property in Hermon looking for Sharon Smith’s body.

Suddenly, the surviving members of Sharon Smith’s family were given hope for resolution, and memories of the young woman and her disappearance came flooding back.

“My first thought was, ‘Here we go again.’ Then, I was hoping they would find something to give the family closure,” Randy Smith, who was 15 at the time his sister went missing, said Friday.

“My sister was my big sister, very protective and loving,” he recalled. “She really spoiled me. I was the youngest, and I could do no wrong.”

The Smith family, which included Sharon Smith, her parents and five siblings, was in the process of moving to Florida when she disappeared, Randy Smith said.

Their father, Sgt. Harold Leroy Smith, was an Air Force aircraft engineer and was stationed at the Maine Air National Guard in Bangor when he met and married Carolee Smith, who was a Bangor native.

The family’s move may have led some to mistakenly believe the Smiths had abandoned Sharon Smith, Randy Smith said.

“My oldest sister and brother were already down there. Some people said, ‘You took off.’ We didn’t take off, we were moving,” he said. “We had already sold everything. We just figured she would come back. For real.

“Then as years go by, you realize … ,” Randy Smith said, letting his sentence trail off.
A daughter’s search

In addition to her parents and siblings, Sharon Smith left behind two children. Mandi Clark of Bangor was 5 when her mother vanished. Clark said Tuesday that she doesn’t remember Sharon Smith but does remember asking, as a little girl, “How come mom hasn’t come to visit?”

Clark’s brother, Jamie Clark, was a year older. He died at the age of 15. They were both raised by her father, David Clark, who had custody of them before Sharon Smith disappeared and now also is deceased.

Mandi Clark has her own opinions about what happened to her mother, but she does not believe she is alive after all these years.

“In 1995, my friend Wendy and I decided I would try to find my mom,” Clark said, sitting in the living room of her Bangor apartment with a collage of family pictures behind her, one featuring her as a toddler being held by her mother.

Because her mother’s family had moved to Florida and they didn’t really stay in touch, the two friends had little information to start with. They found Sharon Smith’s birth date and Social Security number, which had not been used since 1980, and started talking to anyone with connections to her or the Paramount Lounge.

Stories about what happened the night her mother went missing run the gamut of a jealous boyfriend killing her to gun running, Clark said she discovered.

During her investigation, which is referred to in a recently filed police affidavit, she got a call from an anonymous man who told her Franklin “George” Gilks killed her mother and that “things got carried away, accidents happen.”

Clark said the conversation scared her after the man told her to “leave things alone,” or something similar might happen to her. She reported the call to police.

While she stopped digging around at that point, she never stopped believing her mother would be found.

“I don’t care what happened. I just want her body,” Clark said.

“I just want closure. I just want to bury her here,” she said.
Cold case

The place where Sharon Smith worked, the Paramount Lounge, was located on the ground floor of the hotel built in 1911 on Harlow Street. Sharon Smith, who also went by the names Sharon Clark and Sharon Beaudoin, was renting a room there. The hotel and lounge changed hands and closed about three years after Sharon Smith vanished.

Asked what their parents thought about Sharon Smith’s lifestyle, Randy Smith paused.

“They were just happy she had a job,” he recalled. “She was a fun-loving spirit.”

The Paramount is the last place Sharon Smith was seen alive, Bangor police Detective Jeremy Brock, who took over the case last fall, discovered when he reviewed the case file.

Despite the case remaining unsolved for years, law enforcement investigators didn’t forget about Sharon Smith. Her missing person’s case in the 1990s was handled by now retired Detective Ed Thorne, who interviewed several people who pointed the finger at Gilks. He also interviewed a co-worker of Sharon Smith’s who is believed to be one of the last people to see her alive. The co-worker reported that she stopped by and saw Sharon Smith at the Paramount and that Sharon Smith was supposed to come by her apartment afterward but never showed.

The case file also contains references to two people who told police that Gilks admitted to killing Sharon Smith while at a drinking party, where he was “quite intoxicated.” They reported that Gilks told them he broke Sharon Smith’s neck during an argument.

An anonymous letter was sent to Bangor police in May 1999, according to an affidavit filed with a search warrant for the Hermon property. The letter, which was postmarked from Ohio, implicates Gilks, Sharon Smith’s “on and off again” boyfriend, as a suspect and states, “you will find the body of Sharon Clark under the living room part of this old ugly home on the right hand side of the road where George Gilks used to live in Hermon.”

Despite the reference to Hermon in the letter, a majority of the other evidence led investigators to where Gilks, who died in 2008, lived at the time Sharon Smith went missing, which was a trailer in Carmel. The Carmel location was mentioned by several others who implicated Gilks in Sharon Smith’s disappearance, the affidavit states.

In 1999, cadaver dogs searched the Carmel property for evidence related to the case but didn’t find a scent. The affidavit doesn’t indicate if the Hermon property was located and searched at that time.

Thorne and another Bangor officer went to Florida shortly after receiving the letter to provide the entire Smith family with an update.

“The detectives came down here 20 years ago. They said they knew who did it but they didn’t have enough evidence,” Randy Smith said. “They told us her apartment was left open and her purse was inside.”

When he heard those details, Randy Smith realized his sister was never coming back.

“It just seemed crazy to me,” he said.
Search yields new leads

After taking over the case, Brock found more leads to pursue, according to the affidavit. He and Detective Tim Shaw searched property records and discovered Gilks had indeed lived in Hermon in his youth, and his mother and brother still lived at the location of his childhood home, 147 New Boston Road. The old barn that once served as the family’s home was torn down 20 years ago and replaced by a rain pond with a small fountain made out of concrete surrounded by rocks and a garden.

The detectives met with the Gilks who agreed to allow a cadaver dog to search the property. Deborah Palman, a former Maine Game Warden who is a special deputy for the Penobscot County Sheriff’s Office, brought her dog, Raven, to the scene on June 14.

“Raven gave a positive indication for the scent of human decomposition at an area near the rain pond where the house used to stand,” the affidavit for the search warrant states. “After probing the ground where the house used to stand, Raven positively indicated several more times in the same area as before.”

The positive indications were enough to convince a judge to allow the June 23 excavation.

Gilks’ family members told police at the time of the search they didn’t believe Gilks had anything to do with Sharon Smith’s disappearance.

The June search for evidence related to Sharon Smith’s case resulted in no evidence being seized, the affidavit filed by Brock at the Penobscot Judicial Center states.

While no items were seized, new leads are now being followed, Sgt. David Bushey, who leads the detective’s division, said Thursday.

“People are starting to call again,” Bushey said. “We don’t have any good solid leads, but we’re creating a list of people to do follow up interviews with. We’ve had a couple people reach out by email as well.”

The family heard about the Hermon excavation after Maine relatives called to let them know it was happening, said Randy Smith and his brother Larry Smith of Tallahassee, Florida, who is more than a decade older than his missing sister.

Larry Smith said his sister loved music and was “kinda crazy.” He also believes she is dead and added that while a part of him wants to know what happened, another part just wants closure.

“I thought it all went away,” Larry Smith said by phone.

For Sharon Smith’s daughter and two grandsons, Micheal and Caleb, there will be no closure until she is found.

“I just want her to know, I’m still here,” Mandi Clark said. “So she’ll know nobody forgot about her.”

Monday, July 05, 2021

Forever Young

I just realized something. The thought really did just pop into my head from out in the cosmos somewhere floating amongst the galactic matter that I, Mildred Ratched have gotten old.  How this happened I don't quite know. I'm puzzled! Confused! Vexed! Flummoxed! Just good old plain mind-blown. I have become THAT OLD WOMAN who bitches and criticizes and complains. When did I start disliking people so much? Is it everyone that I dislike? Am I becoming a crabby troglodyte again? I'll really start to worry if I feel the urge to paint my bedroom Bohemian Red like my previous "cave" was painted. When did I get old? It seems like it happened overnight. Yesterday, I was young and vibrant and today, I'm The Sea Hag. My body doesn't seem to know what muscle tone and tight flesh means anymore. Things grow where they shouldn't and stuff falls out that I wish would stay put. I'm the female version of Archie Bunker, except I'm more pitiful because I don't have anyone to call "Meathead" and unfortunately, Mildred doesn't have a "Judith" or a "Jack/John/Joe or who really cares"...that is, unless one of you dear creatures want to fix me up so I'll have someone of my very own to love, honor and abuse.  I'll bring my own recliner and remote control, of course. Geez! It sounds like a righteous deal to me and on a good day I might even cook a meal. What more could anyone dream for or expect from a relationship? 

Friday, July 02, 2021

Let It Be!

[Rant on] When it comes to ignorance in its purest form Facebook never disappoints me.  Recently, an old friend of mine passed away and while everyone else managed to express their heartfelt condolences, a true wingnut twatnozzle named Gail made it all about herself.  Imagination the audacity of Bruce and his wife for unfriending Gail for her "political" posts (i.e. Qanon, Trump, etc) because Bruce and his wife found what Gail posts to be insane, distasteful, rude, nonsense and outright lies and that's on her good days.  I think she might be working for Marjorie Taylor Greene or maybe she's Marjorie's mother...a crusty old cunt tucked away on Long Island! I'm sorry, but I truly can't help myself.  I control my fingers on Facebook and they shake terribly because they want to let loose, but my brain says, "NO! DON'T GO THERE, MILDRED! DO NOT ENGAGE WITH IDIOTS!"  I do as John Lennon and Paul McCartney instruct me to do.  I let it be. I come here instead to bitch.  Lucky you! You get to read Mildred blow off steam. The thought has often crossed my mind that if I didn't have a blog, my eyeballs probably would pop out or I would pop a vein in my head. Either way the result would not be very pretty.

Oh, I'm not quite done yet...

This same "compassionate conservative," I hate to admit I have known since I was 16.  OMG! Say it isn't so! I'm sitting here shaking my head so you're allowed to do the same. Oh yes, I have a long history with her, but we won't go into all of it.  Just that we were in drug rehab together many, many moons ago.  In 2002, I created a website so people from said rehab could reconnect with each other.  When Facebook got rolling, I switched everything over from the website I had created and managed to Facebook and that's where we've been ever since.  About 7 or so years ago Her Royal Twatnozzle and I had a horrible falling out and hadn't spoken since until recently. What I did was delete a few of her jokes she posted and that put her in a tailspin. I was called everything, but human and because of it, she humiliated me in front of the entire group. Mildred is about to make a confession! Buckle your seat belts! I'd like to confess that I'm weak! I caved in! I let her back on the site against my better judgment because I feel everyone deserves a second chance and after all she is a former resident of this rehab also. WHAT WAS I THINKING? AM I FUCKING NUTS OR BRAINDEAD? IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE? ISN'T THE DEFINITION OF INSANITY DOING THE SAME THING OVER AND OVER AGAIN BUT ALWAYS EXPECTING A DIFFERENT RESULT? HELLO, MILDRED! IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP!!!

Below is the heartfelt condolence Gail wrote so judge for yourself if you think it's something you'd like to read if your husband or wife had just passed away:

I am very sorry to hear about the passing of Bruce. I feel so bad, up until about 3 months ago, him and I were very good friends and I have been on 3 reunions with him plus there were many times we would meet in the city when he was in NY and I have great memories and pictures of those times. About 3 months ago, his wife got mad at me for some political posts I put on my own timeline page and him and her unfriended me and I felt very bad, hurt and angry, but still, I loved him and thought of him as a very good friend. Bruce, may you rest in peace.

In the short time Gail's been back on the site, she's done nothing, but insult people (posted about someone's botched facelift, bitched about some guy she dated from the rehab who wasn't very punctual about picking her up for dates and called him a pain in the ass, slammed another guy about calling her drunk all the time and talked trash about people, yet she made a special point of asking how he is, where he is and if he's mad at her because she hasn't heard from him in a long time and he hasn't accepted her friend request on Facebook.) I had almost resigned myself to the status quo of life with Gail again until today when I went to check my messages, etc. and found she had started posting her political bullshit on the rehab site. I don't know what Gab is and I don't want to know, but from what she claims it's where the conservatives hang out.  Oh boy! You know I'll be running right over there for some giggles and grins.  I'm having a hard time believing that after being thrown off Facebook for a year, she's going to come on and start her crap again.  The only reason she's back on Facebook now is because she changed the spelling of her name slightly and started a new account.  Some people learn absolutely nothing...NADA! They get all their plays right out of the Trump playbook and think everything is cool...until it isn't and then it's always someone else's fault. What I think is that she might need to be introduced to Mildred's tagline...anything is possible with the right attitude, a sledge hammer and a roll of duct tape! [Rant off]

I slept on this and instead of using duct tape, I employed the easiest solution possible. I deleted Gail. No drama! No fuss! Just a click of the button and hit the road, Gail! 

Friday, June 25, 2021

What's Wrong With People?

I need to preface this post with an apology.  I know the quality of these two photos suck. I took them while I was driving, so I'm sorry. I've never claimed to be Annie Leibovitz. I think I need to start a new regular segment titled What's Wrong With People?  Yesterday while I was out doing errands I took a couple photos.  The first picture is one that I find both funny and disturbing.  This Trump sign is STILL outside this business claiming they can make "business simplified."  First, I'm sure there's some sort of ordinance about political sign after elections, but when do Trump or his followers ever follow rules, regulations or laws?  The irony is why in hell would anyone think Trump would be the poster boy for the standard of good business practices when everything he has ever touched has ended in disaster? I guess that's business simplified! Lie, cheat, steal, don't pay your bills or taxes and then file bankruptcy...now that's a great business plan! Notice how full the parking lot is at Payday. I think if these people were smart, they'd take the Trump sign down and use it for firewood. 

Next, on my way to the vet I saw this sign about vaccines.  I truly wanted to go up and knock on the door and ask for a detailed clarification, but I was afraid a Qanon member would pop out and nab me. If it's not a vaccine, then what exactly is it? A tracking device? I hate to break it to them that they aren't that important or interesting to track. They live in Pensacola on the Redneck Riviera! Hello! That's not the cultural or scientific mecca of the world. Or maybe it contains something to turn me into a brain-eating zombie? Ha! Do they even stop and listen to how foolish they sound? I truly don't understand the mentality behind that type of thinking and I thank my parent's generation for not being that ignorant when our generation were being vaccinated for things like small pox and polio.  I never remember my mother bitching about vaccinations or what was in them.  We just lined up and got the shot and that was that. Now, it's a big song and dance and the result of people not being vaccinated is DEATH! So my rhetorical question of the day has to be WHAT'S WRONG WITH PEOPLE? Covidiots, no doubt! Rest in Peace!

Wednesday, June 02, 2021

Let Us Whip Your Property Into Shape

Okay, so I can't really complain about my company car after driving around for I don't know for how long with a bumper sticker saying: STICKS AND STONES WILL BREAK MY BONES BUT WHIPS AND CHAINS EXCITE ME on the back of my car.  Before you get all rattled and wonder why I would put something like that on my car...I didn't!!!This happened to me years ago as what I'm assuming was supposed be a practical joke when I managed a motel on the beach. Someone pulled me aside one day and let me know I might want to go check out the back of my car. I thought immediately that someone had backed into my car so I went running out of the office in a panic only to find that friggin' bumper sticker larger than life displayed across the back of my car. And do you think I could get anyone to own up to doing it? To this day, I'm still waiting for the coward to come forward. 

Oh by the way, the company car thing is just a joke.  Marquis de Sod! OMG! What a marketing genius! I would send my employees out on jobs dressed in whips and chains just for effect and you know people would LOVE it.

Sunday, May 30, 2021

It’s a Difficult Decision!

As the postal service prepares to raise its prices on stamps, it's only fitting that the face of the 45th Imbecile, Trumplethinskin is immortalized in honoring the fine job he did in office. 

I haven't selected my favorite yet simply because they don't have one with him pictured in prison garb. 

And for your listening pleasure I selected Simple Man to exemplify the hypocrisy of Trump's whole existence.  It still amazes me how the common man can be so devoted to someone so corrupt and self-serving. Maybe someday someone will explain it in a way that my feeble brain will understand what people find so charismatic about this snake is the grass!

Monday, May 24, 2021

Like A Fart In Church

Well, that last post was as popular as a fart in church, so in its honor let me follow it up with a post I'm sure that will be as equally as popular. I want to follow up with my response to Kathy.  If anyone bothered to hurt their eyes by reading through that last post, they can be a true glutton for punishment by reading this one also.  If you're scratching your head and wondering if I've gone completely crazy...fear not! I'm not there! Not quite yet! The point of last blog post was to illustrate just how different things are these days around here in the blogosphere. The early days could be dastardly! I'm even more peaceful. Other than being stirred up for four years over Trump, I haven't had my feathers ruffled for awhile and that isn't an invitation or a challenge because I do like to exist in peace and harmony. I was simply observing how most people have settled into their groove and just do their own thing.

So where were we? Oh yeah!

In 2005, I had reached a precipice...

A strange thing happened to me on my way to blogging retirement. I found some inspiration! Was it in music like Psychedelic Pariah suggested? No, but thank you Pariah for not taking the opportunity to kick me when I was down and for giving me some hope that inspiration does still exist. Late last night when I was deeply entrenched in what most likely amounts to self-pity, I made an amazing discovery. I was inspired by unadulterated anger. There’s nothing like getting a little pissed off to perk a person up!

Back when we ("The Clique," Spaces dysfunctional family) were using weekends to do silly little things like show off our legs (gams and stems, as we so fondly called them) to each other, I created National Confession Weekend (NCW.)  My confession was simply that I had a pole in my living room. NCW went over well and all who chose to participate had fun with it. However, one visitor to my site that weekend did not come in the spirit of fun, but came to spread pharisaism. While most playfully bantered that weekend, this self-appointed morality monitor chose to leave the following comment on my site under my entry titled, National Confession Weekend:

My confession is that I really have great hate feelings for anyone so superficial and pointless as to take up a space on this planet who calls themselves "Red Kitten" and, from the photo, looks like a typical walking aides and syphilis cocktail. Excuse me for being so frank but I have never seen such a total waste of space on the internet in my life. People like you are the reasons why scientists are working on genetic engineering. We really must do somethhing about these degenerates and have some rules to this msn spaces. Where are the cyber-police? Arrest this hooker! And I think you know what you can do with your pole!

Published By WebWolfe (http://Don’t come by) – 6/25/2005 9:25 AM

Since I’m a supporter of the 1st Amendment, I didn’t delete WebWolfe’s venomous accusations.  Each person has a right to disagree, but some spineless amoeboids like to perpetrate sneak attacks cloaked by anonymity (this type of mentality can be seen on a much larger scale through the acts we witnessed on 9/11).  I simply let WebWolfe’s words stand as an example of cowardice and also how one can abuse the 1st Amendment. 

I waited in silence hoping that eventually WebWolfe would resurface.  While browsing through some old entries on a friend’s blog late last night, the cyber gods smiled down at me and gave me what I had wanted. There before me was WebWolfe’s URL! Since the gauntlet had already been thrown down, it would have been fair for me to go to WebWolfe’s site and give her a taste of her own medicine.  I decided against doing that.  What I have to say, I will say here where the initial attack was made so nothing will be deleted or altered. 

Disagreeing with what someone writes can be done in tactful manner.  Most people adhere to having good manners while disagreeing. Obviously, WebWolfe’s pseudo-intellect doesn’t grasp the concept of fair play and she cannot disagree without using tactics like character assassinations and plain old muckraking.  She’s entitled to her opinion of me and my blog, but general consensus puts her opinion in the minority.   Furthermore, if a person doesn’t like the content of someone else’s blog, then just don’t visit it.  It’s as easy as that! Does writing a comment like the one left for me by WebWolfe show anything more than her obvious immaturity and lack of tact?

Out of curiosity, I visited Webwolfe’s site, THE FUTURE OF EVOLUTION.  I have to admit what I found didn’t surprise me.  The site was rather sterile and lacked any real originality.  What it screamed out at me was "please, someone (anyone, it doesn’t matter who) come along and be impressed with what I’ve posted!" To date, not many people have been impressed with her and somehow I doubt they ever will.  I could be wrong, but I bet she’ll get more hits from me posting this rebuttal than she ever has on her own merit. For me, the best part of the whole blog was the quote she used as her favorite quote on her profile:

"This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness."

Dalai Lama 

It made me wonder if she intended that as a feeble attempt to display her twisted sense of humor.  It certainly made me laugh! Surely, a person who had made such an unprovoked attack on anyone wouldn’t use the Dalai Lama’s words as a serious quote!  I wonder what the Dalai Lama would think of WebWolfe’s act of kindness towards me.  I’m sure he wouldn’t consider me  "a typical walking aides and syphilis cocktail."  In her sagely comments she speaks of genetic engineering… surely, scientists aren’t trying to create a superior race of beings from a pharisaical, warmongering genepool like the one to which she belongs.  If so, please let me find some place else to live!

Webwolfe, I do agree with one thing you wrote.  Yes, there needs to be some rules on MSN Spaces.  A rule protecting people against libelous harassment might be a nice place to start.  Also, if you think any scientist would select your DNA to mix in the genepool to make the ideal specimen, you’re sadly mistaken.  Not only do you have some very obvious major flaws in your character, but you have some small ones as well.  Next time you want to attempt to sound intelligent, use spellcheck and try making grammatically correct sentences.  There’s nothing more annoying than some hit and run flamer trying to dazzle people with their non-existent intellect.  Furthermore, yes I do know what I can do with my pole.  I believe it might fit very nicely up your unlubricated, puritanical ass. 

"Excuse me for being so frank," but in unison and loud enough for this frigid  "missing link" to hear, will everyone please:

Give me a "C"! 

Give me a "U"! 

Give me a "N"! 

Give me a "T"!

What’s that spell? W-E-B-W-O-L-F-E!!!

 Thank you for reminding me of what the true meaning of the word "cunt" is… you depict it well.  One last thing, thank you for being my inspiration!  There’s no way in hell that I’ll ever give someone like you the satisfaction of seeing me leave here.  I’m here to stay!!!

Comments from "The Clique":

KENTUCKYBETH23 July 17, 2005 at 3:15 PM

YOU GO GIRL!!!!!!!!!!


ALE M. July 17, 2005 at 3:37 PM

wow! I never thought someone could "attack" like that you go girl:)

MONTY July 17, 2005 at 4:26 PM

I wouldn’t get too bothered about comments, I don't take negative comments from people who don’t know me seriously and especially via the internet. If you consider that 10% of the population is at any one time suffering from a mental health problem there are bound to be some "strange" comments posted from time to time. My best was a death threat left on my Space earlier in the year by a Spanish guy. I found that funny as he left it in Spanish and I only picked out the word "muerte" and I had to translate it. In a way it felt all a bit "spaghetti western." The only other negative comment I got that drew any reaction from me was from a guy who thought he needed, every now and then, to discredit my preferred internet browser through comments. I left a simple, concise response to his last comment ….."tosser"

P July 17, 2005 at 4:41 PM

woohooo…well said

JOSE July 17, 2005 at 4:57 PM

Bravo! Well said… Now, lets see what we can do about WebWolfe’s Space… };-) Her view on developing a genetically engineered super-race has an erie ring of Nazi racist views… It is an embarassment (for me) that she lives in the same city as I do! (Houston, Texas) I assure whoever reads this comment that most Houstonians are very nice people and that she is the exception, not the rule, in Texas.

DARLENE July 17, 2005 at 5:11 PM

CUNT! Am I too late? I tip my baseball cap….nice flame! MCP

NASCAR DAN July 17, 2005 at 5:31 PM


RK July 17, 2005 at 5:45 PM

Bethy, thank you…thank you very much (done in my best Elvis voice) PrematureCrab, you haven’t been attacked until you feel the wrath of the dysfunctional ones! BestMonty, would that "tosser" be a salad-tosser, perhaps? pamalajane2000…or is it just Pam? Looks like I’ve had too many beers too! Stick around and see who else jumps in this bitchfest. flyingtower, I don’t think all people from Houston are ignorant…just the ones into genetic engineering. We might get a few of these gents around here to donate alittle DNA to the cause! Pariah? Jnuts? Calling all sperm donors! We need to create a master race! Are you up to it? MCP, one is never too later to jump into a nice flame. See how that word just rolled off your fingertips. BTW, long time no see…how have you been doing? RebornTIGERDAN974, I believe the CUNT is handing out bananas to anyone who donates a little DNA. Maybe you should offer her some…

EBONYWYVERNDRAGON July 17, 2005 at 5:51 PM

U all that an a bag o chips, woman! 🙂


JOHN July 17, 2005 at 7:04 PM

That’s MUCH better… 🙂

RICK July 17, 2005 at 7:26 PM

Ouch! You know I have been to that site, but have yet to see it updated, so I don’t think it is in much use. And I have yet to see a posted comment of hers anywhere. But it’s funny that she would leave such an idiotic comment, while proclaiming the advancement of the human race. Of course she could be talking about reverse evolution where the neanderthal is the primary goal. In which case she is right on target. Either way it was inappropriate, and tasteless, and the obvious product of a small mind. And as a proponent of Darwinism, this woman is an embarrassment, and a bad example of natural selection. I mean funny, stupid, not funny, ha-ha.

NASCAR DAN July 17, 2005 at 7:42 PM


CHERYL July 17, 2005 at 10:24 PM

fear, envy possibly and definitely misunderstanding or her part, she got you wrong and I’d be pissed too

STEPHEN CRAIG July 17, 2005 at 11:16 PM

Karen………………I am laughing so so very much that wine may spill out my nose….Loves ya my dear…..Be well. Stephen

AMANDA July 17, 2005 at 11:34 PM

wow. that was great. I wonder what she is thinking… no I really dont wonder. Its probably something rather uncomplex and degrading. or something "evolutional" which is far worse. But anyways, I do believe what you had to say is awesome. just thought I'd say that.

REDVELVET July 18, 2005 at 12:13 AM

All Hail Red Kitten!!! 🙂

BARBARA July 18, 2005 at 1:41 AM

I will come to the defense of that poor webwolf. Give her a break people. That wood alcohol and cheap ’radiator’ moonshine she has been ingesting is taking its toll on her little gray cells. There just aren’t that many of them left after her steady diet of those cocktails. I am sure she will close down her website soon so she can go into rehab. Karen, you have come to life! I think "Emily" got a wiff of your power and got pushed away from your coastline.


PSYCHEDELIC PARIAH July 18, 2005 at 11:58 AM

I’m somewhat hesitant to step into this having been guilty of similar acts in the not too recent past. However, I like to believe that I’ve cleared the air and have set things straight. Hell, I even helped create the Red Dyke persona that you like to don every once in a while. So, to comment on something like this might sound a bit disengenous coming from me, but I think you know me well enough, Karen, to know that people can de-jerk themselves. Maybe this wolf will one day do the same. You can read it in her name; on the prowl, hunting, cunning. If she’s like me, she pushes away before she can be pushed away. Sometimes the pain only subsides when it’s shared. What she did was wrong and I’m not making excuses for her.

RK July 18, 2005 at 3:44 PM

Laoch Ceilteach said I am the Wizard and if that’s the case, what’s the odds on one of you bringing me her broomstick?

RK July 18, 2005 at 3:48 PM

Just bring me anything except her panties….I’m not that kind of girl (you’ll have to hook up with the Red Dyke for that stuff)

RK July 18, 2005 at 3:50 PM

Medication time, everyone!

MONICA July 18, 2005 at 4:47 PM

Very well put. I love your space. Bravo I say to you. Mo

REEKING HAVOC'S LAIR July 18, 2005 at 5:20 PM

Flamers must expect to get flamed back…Wolfie, if you want to present yourself as a highly-evolved and spiritual person, best not to do this silly crap….It gives the lie to everything else you have to say.

HEATHER July 18, 2005 at 6:04 PM

***Stands and applauds***

UNKNOWN July 18, 2005 at 8:40 PM

for the record. I think red kitten is an adorable name and I love your blog. You sure told ol’ "whats er name"!

RHONDA AND SCOTT July 18, 2005 at 8:45 PM

Ok, if we came from monkeys, etc…then why do we still have monkeys? Wouldn’t they evolve? Sad when she’s gotta try to trample you to make herself feel better! You go frog stomp her! She won’t even know what hit her-she has TWO spaces and they are both BORING!!!~WD

RK July 18, 2005 at 9:05 PM

Two spaces? I only know of one she has. The one I have listed in this entry, The Future Of Evolution. Does the other space she have show monkeys mating? No wait…you said they were boring…that must mean it showed her mating with a monkey.

TWILA July 19, 2005 at 7:58 AM

RK, Hey! G’mornin’! BRAVO! That little missy needs a little red tractor to pull her head out of her ass! Here’s the link to her other site…http://spaces.msn.com/members/citichic/. Got it right out of her comments section. And I suspect you’re right….she’ll have more bloggers checking her site from your blog than she’ll ever have otherwise! And thanks for reposting her comments. I’d missed it originally and often wondered what she was all about. Obviously NOT much! Have a great day and please don’t retire. Those of us in the ’know’ love to read your blogs! Twila

BRUCE July 19, 2005 at 12:14 PM

Let me try that one again…B-R-A-V-O

HAIRROLD July 19, 2005 at 9:16 PM

How is that U always find the bipedious scum. Man, I love all this excitement! Time 4 a tour of the net ala flames. Take it easy, & keep up the amazing werk. Luv ya 2 death!!>;\’}

AMY July 20, 2005 at 7:45 AM

Oh geez…you both made my night and destroyed it with this one masterpiece. Hilarious, but how am I ever to be crowned as the Cyber-Bitch-Queen while you’re still blogging away? I shall have to continue reading and enjoying your blog while accepting my mediocrity.

MARCIE July 20, 2005 at 7:33 PM

You do decide who is IN…I am happy I have not met your quick tongue in battle…I am glad to see anger is leading the way to some great blogging…I am not checking out her blog solely because I don’t want to attest to any hit that might make her head any bigger. You rock, kitten! By the way, kittens make me happy…and you have made my night!

MORIAH July 20, 2005 at 9:09 PM

LMAO!!! Great job slamming her!!! Serves the pompous B***h right…lol Glad you are staying…I enjoy your site…

KENNY July 21, 2005 at 6:37 PM

You can scoff at this one RK !…Like a famous song & album of the same name "All things must pass"…it won’t be this way forever. Tongue in cheek, you know you are so much better than anyone who badmouths your brilliant space. All said & done…You will always be the Queen of blogs to most of us – your ardent followers. Happiness!

Saturday, May 22, 2021

National Confession Weekend

I've been reading some of my old posts from back in the day when things just got started in the blogosphere and I realized just how different things are now. My original blog was named Abnormally Normal People and it was located on MSN Spaces. In the past, I've mentioned Psychedelic Pariah a few times, but like Beetlejuice don't say his name 3 times in a row or else he might appear and trust me, you really, don't want that to happen! On this particular day Psychedelic Pariah was acting human. I guess no one pissed in his Wheaties! ha! That didn't happen often. When I first started blogging I did so under the screen name, Red Kitten before I became Mildred Ratched.  Although I think part of me has always been Mildred Ratched, a crusty old bitch with a don’t fuck with me attitude.

To tell this story I have describe few characters that were created for the Psychedelic Pariah's benefit. The Red Dyke was a character I created due to the name-calling Psychedelic Pariah slung my way. He was a bully right out of the Trump playbook long before there was a Trump playbook. In fact, if I remember correctly, The Red Dyke wore high-top Birkenstocks with a tight red body suit and well, she was a superhero, of course! She let her long, wavy, chestnut hair flow free.  At one time I had a drawing of her, but it's long gone. The Blue Mute was another blogging buddy of mine that felt Pariah's wrath, also. We did nothing to Pariah other than be a thorn in his side from time to time by merely existing, I think we became the Troglodyte Twins in his mind. Charming, huh? Imagine that! Me being a thorn in anyone's side! ha! Actually, I took what he meant as a slam and turned it into something rather funny. I think it pissed him off that his insults didn't bother me and instead turned them into a joke. 

Imagine someone like Donald Trump...you know, someone who loves to stir things up, yet unlike Trumplethinskin, Psychedelic Pariah was highly intelligent and he was a very talented writer (I hate to admit that.) You had to stay on your toes with him or else he'd crucify you. I never quite figured out what his deal was and then he disappeared never to be heard from again as did many of these people on MSN Spaces. For many the blogging fever waned and for others it became a part of our lives and now we mostly, exist in peace and harmony except for the occasional annoying spam here and there.

As you read what I've copied and pasted below, please pay special attention to the comment "Kathy" leaves in response to my post titled National Confession Weekend I wrote in the spirit simply having some fun because my next post is my response to her.

The idea for National Confession Weekend originated from the following chat I had with my partner in crime, The Blue Mute the night before I wrote the post titled National Confession Weekend:

The Red Dyke says:
I’m listening to Unchain My Heart by Joe Cocker….makes me want to get up and dance

The Red Dyke says:
all I need is my pole

The Red Dyke says:
believe it or not I have one in my living room

The Red Dyke says:

The Red Dyke says:
maybe I need to write that as a confession in abnorms…I have a pole in my livingroom

The Red Dyke says:
I wonder how many women can say that

The Blue Mute says:
you have a POLE pole??

The Red Dyke says:

The Red Dyke says:
a pole…from ceiling to floor

The Blue Mute says:
for what….

The Red Dyke says:

The Blue Mute says:
so you like to dance with poles

The Red Dyke says:
I like Irishmen better

The Blue Mute says:

The Red Dyke says:
the pole can be used for anything you want it to be used for

The Red Dyke says:
hey…remember I’m a saucy tart?????

The Blue Mute says:
oohhh yeah!

The Red Dyke says:
saucy tarts have toys

National Confession Weekend

I decree it to be National Confession Weekend (June 24 – 26, 2005) and everyone has to reveal at least one useless bit of information about themselves on their own Space.

My confession:
(I'm revealing this now, but the pole was a huge support beam in the shape of a pole)

32 Replies to “National Confession Weekend”

Dingo says:
June 23, 2005 at 10:10 pm

Okay, yeah I’m the Blue Mute, but the truth is….I am NOT MUTE! That was a big misunderstanding that I won’t go into right now. By the time you and me teamed up I was already using The Dingo as my faithful translator. So me and The Dingo was talking the other day and we was wondering if you did your confession day if Pariah would come play in our sandbox. The Dingo told me we should hand him a shovel and tell him to bury himself with a real confession. I think Dingo might try to bury Pariah like a bone.

RK says:
June 23, 2005 at 10:17 pm

I can’t predict what Psychedelic Pariah might do. I’ve yet to witness him letting his hair down and playing with the rest of the dysfunctional family, but there’s always a first time for everything. I guess we’ll just have to sit back in breathless anticipation and see what the verdict is, Dingo.  I believe I would prefer to bury Pariah rather than having him bury himself. I personally would love to have him write some truly worthless confession to amuse me.

Out_of_order891 says:
June 23, 2005 at 11:20 pm

im lost whats the point of this blog?

Out_of_order891 says:
June 23, 2005 at 11:20 pm

or this whole space

Cynical says:
June 24, 2005 at 12:08 am

Hi, RK, Haven’t been by in a few days. I was busy pissing people off with a diatribe on F1 racing fiascos and a Flag Burning article/landmine. I am almost afraid to ask, but would you tell me when ….. Grump. Brain fade. You list when National Confession Weekend is at the top of your Blog. I’ll be back when I think of what might be most inappropriate for a shrink approaching early coothood to confess. I think I know what it will be unless I find something more normal.Peace, Doc

Psychedelic Pariah says:
June 24, 2005 at 6:25 am

Confessions are easy. They’re fun. My problem is I could go all night. Yes, that’s right. I’ll play this game with you. God, where to start…

RK says:
June 24, 2005 at 6:42 am

Out_of_order891, the point of this blog or as you came back and questioned in fact the validity of this whole space is that it has no point…obviously, your superior intellect didn’t allow for you to see sometimes girls just want to have fun! I can see it’s gonna be one of those weekends! Doc, come on….tell us something inappropriate and normal…yes, that’s the ticket. I’m sure you’ve got something lurking in there! Pariah, welcome to the sandbox, darling. Remember to take your shoes off and no taking a dump while you’re in here. okay? Play well and I’ll keep an eye out for bullies.

RK says:
June 24, 2005 at 7:00 am

BTW Doc, I burned 10 flags in your honor today! Now, gentlemen and ladies I expect to see some totally useless/worthless tidbits revealed. Choose wisely and remember to be honest! And Dingo….stop kicking sand on Pariah. He’s NOT a bone! Pariah, just out of curiosity…do you have blue eyes?

RK says:
June 24, 2005 at 7:04 am Edit

One last thing before I leave for the day….I discovered what useless tidbit "Out_of_order891" left for us! He/she has a restricted space so we can\’t go see the depth of this person’s thinking and witness perfection and true meaning in the making! OMG, I AM SO DISAPPOINTED! Someone make me feel better…….PLEASE!

Varahn says:
June 24, 2005 at 10:44 am

Confessions hmmm? No pole. *if you catch my meaning*~Tet~

barbara says:
June 24, 2005 at 11:02 am

Confessions? Well, I use L’Oreal. Does that count? Ok ok… I’m not as blonde as I seem. More? Juicy you say? OK. I’m not a virgin. I can never ride a Harley again.

Psychedelic Pariah says:
June 24, 2005 at 12:04 pm

Yes, RK, I do have blue eyes. Why would you ask that?

Lisa says:
June 24, 2005 at 1:50 pm

I went through a phase, not sure how old I was, (maybe 11?) of stealing books from the local shop. They were either Enid Blyton (childrens stories) or porn magazines. Dunno what that means..

June 24, 2005 at 2:58 pm

OK I want a pole in my living room and the WWE divas oh well I can dream about it anyway I once stole some money from my sister to buy some cowboy boots but after I got them they did not fit plus I got in trouble,so much for my days as cowboy any way take care RK, my confession on my site is coming soon.

Goodbyefranko says:
June 24, 2005 at 4:07 pm

I think I’ve done most of my really big confessing already…lets see…I used to steal paperbacks as well…mainly westerns…but one called Dove about the kid who began to sail around the world by himself @ 16 y/o and made it 5 yrs later, married and in one piece. What a great book for a squirt like me. Eventually, I got caught. And I learned my lesson too. Now, I just pirate music and DVDs. Aaarrrrrrrrrrr.

Debeann says:
June 24, 2005 at 6:01 pm

Well they do say confession is good for the soul….or so she says as bares her soul from the pole…my confession is coming!

June 24, 2005 at 9:23 pm

hey RK I got my confession up stop by and take a look.

Unknown says:
June 24, 2005 at 10:15 pm

Amazing. I too have a nice pole .. but mine is in my bedroom … attached to the bed! Wanna come check out my pole kitten? O:)

Bob says:
June 24, 2005 at 11:47 pm

Ah, I don\’t believe that you actually dance on that pole. But a few pictures might convince me…In the meantime, I’ve made my own confession on my site, so come on over and visit.

Cynical says:
June 25, 2005 at 1:17 am

I have to set the stage a bit here. I went to a Catholic undergraduate school where the good brothers of the Society of The Precious Blood not only failed miserably in their attempts to turn me into a "young Catholic gentleman," but created, at best, an agnostic who had learned enough theology and philosophy (minors in both, though I refused to claim them) to know why I believed as I did. I married my first wife right out of college before it was off to grad school. It seemed to me that, to avoid hurting my relatives, I probably should go to confession so I could receive communion at my own wedding. I even went in to Chicago to St. Peter\’s Cathedral. (Here comes the good part.) The priest that heard my confession didn’t appear interested in anything I considered a sin, but launched into a lecture on why I must not marry a non-Catholic. Before he had finished, my parting comment was "F**k you, Father!" And I didn’t even wait for my penance. I shall discuss the incidents with the chihuahua at another time. Peace, Doc

George says:
June 25, 2005 at 2:12 am

Wow your own pole. Brass I hope. Does it have a name?

Reeking Havoc's Lair says:
June 25, 2005 at 6:24 am 

OK, my confession is ready. It’s about something I didn’t do.

Kathy says:
June 25, 2005 at 8:25 am 

My confession is that I really have great hate feelings for anyone so superficial and pointless as to take up a space on this planet who calls themselves "Red Kitten" and, from the photo, looks like a typical walking aides and syphilis cocktail. Excuse me for being so frank but I have never seen such a total waste of space on the internet in my life. People like you are the reasons why scientists are working on genetic engineering. We really must do somethhing about these degenerates and have some rules to this msn spaces. Where are the cyber-police? Arrest this hooker! And I think you know what you can do with your pole!

A Utah Woman Am I says:
June 25, 2005 at 9:16 am

That is great! Knowing me though I would think your house used to be a firehouse or something (seeing as I am a little slow on the uptake). But that is awesome that you have a pole! It would provide a ton of entertainment I am sure! I will have to think of something to "reveal" this weekend…hmmm…

Jnutsaz says:
June 25, 2005 at 7:34 pm 

Crap. Now I have to confess something? I’m going to have to think about that one. Don’t want to alienate any more people than necessary.

RK says:
June 25, 2005 at 8:33 pm

Varahn_Tet, no pole but you haven’t made a confession yet. I’m waiting with baited breath! Barbie, I know I can always count on you playing along! Believe it or not, I’m not a virgin either. Psychedelic_Pariah, the answer to your question is posted on your site. FinestPantyHose, we’ll leave the analysis of your choice of books to steal for The Doc. mochajavamanDK, "Dove" sounds like a great book…who wrote it? Debeann, I just checked…no confession yet! Shame on you!RebornTIGERDAN974. thanks for your contribution to National Confession Weekend. Thomas, hopefully we can compare poles someday! Dutchdummy, I enjoyed reading your pole confession and the great thing about confessions is that it’s up to the reader to believe or disbelieve what’s written. CynicalPsychologist, OMG…I think I’m in love! airhorny, the brass pole matches my brass balls. Reeking_Havoc, what a sweetheart you are for playing in the sandbox! Did you ever get a heat rash from going commando? A_Utah_Woman_Am_I, I’m looking forward to reading your confession. Jnuts, you don’t have to worry about alienating anyone…now write something shocking like you’ve danced on The Red Dyke’s pole…..LOL

Cordelia says:
June 26, 2005 at 3:10 am

Confession posted!

RK says:
June 26, 2005 at 2:40 pm

euphrosyne22, thanks for posting a confession and welcome to the sandbox!

Tawse says:
June 27, 2005 at 5:37 am

I’m a day late.. but it’s posted none the less =)

P says:
June 27, 2005 at 5:41 pm

see, now you have a pole in your living room. that is your confession. indigo was caught in a compromising position in public. I cannot possibly participate in confessions week. because my confessions would include things like: I stole stickers from my piano teacher in 5th grade. *GASP!* I’m going to go out and do something devilish tonight just so I can fulfill the assignment while maintaining my pride. maybe I’ll…litter. *SHRIEK!*:) patresa

Amy says:
July 2, 2005 at 11:22 am

LOL…That’s a great chat and confession! I have run out of tame confessions as I have a onrunning Sunday Confessions post.

Virus says:
July 13, 2005 at 4:47 pm
I'm at a loss for words. I think I have a pole in my mouth.

For those of you who actually read this entire post...My confession this time around is that the pole in my living room was a huge support beam in the shape of a pole and not a stripper pole! The fantasy is always much better than the reality! Alas, Red Kitten was a fraud! lol I hate when that happens, don't you? But trust me, Mildred is the real deal! And if Mildred starts confessing to stuff people might end up in jail. Uh! Oh! 

So what's your confession? 

Friday, May 14, 2021

I Have A Water Buffalo In My Bed

I wish someone could explain to me how a small dog the size of a Shih Tzu can expand to the size of a water buffalo in bed at night.  I'm lucky if I get 6 inches of bed. I must push her over at least a dozen times a night, but she loves to snuggle and PUSH! Most of time I don't mind, but when I'm in pain, it gets to be a little too much togetherness.  Typically, what my babies do is burrow under the covers and find a spot.  Fenway's spot is always right up against me.  She loves her momma!

My other small dog, B.A. (a Doodle aka Doxiepoo) settles in and you'd never know he's there until morning when he wakes up and wants to go out and then it's a fire drill to get outside.  While he and Libby eagerly go outside, I always have to come back inside to roust Fenway out of bed because she loves to root around in the sheets before going outside. Isn't it funny the routines animals establish?

My third dog, Libby (a Dandie Dinmont Terrier) sleeps in a dog bed...go figure! She doesn't like being outside.  She has severe allergies so all her outside activities are just out and right back in followed by an hour or two of scratching.  She does take allergy meds which help somewhat, but to date nothing has given her complete relief. I've spent thousands of dollars trying to find something that works, but as of now nothing has.  The vet just tries to keep it as managed as possible with diet etc.

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Et tu Brute!

I just found out it's National Limerick Day when I popped in to visit messymimi's meanderings. Don't everyone jump up and down at once. The noise can be absolutely deafening, so please try to restrain yourselves and hide your excitement! It's not healthy to get so bubbly over the thought of limericks...that is, unless your name is Mildred Ratched. Truthfully, I've always been a little bit weird (and nobody needs to leave any smartass comments regarding my weirdness. I'm trying to figure out how to hook up my electric cattle prod to the comment section so keep that in mind.) 

In my younger years, I used to write limericks.  I remember as far back as when I was in junior high school I would sit in class and doodle and write and write and doodle. I guess I'd do most anything, but what I was supposed to be doing. Oh yes, I was what every student aspired to be...inattentive and tuned out completely!  I don't remember any limericks right off the top of my head because I'm old and crotchety now, but I do remember one was about Julius Caesar.  I think that must been inspired because we were made to read Julius Caesar in 8th grade. I'm sure whatever I wrote must have been a masterpiece!


Tuesday, May 11, 2021

Mildred's Makeover

Just so everyone won't think my life is totally bleak all the time, my daughter gave me a makeover not long ago.  This old gal can still rock it when I have to! Unfortunately, the times I have to rock it aren't that often anymore. After she did this to me, she instructed me to go to Lowe's and pick up a contractor (I don't do bars or online dating and I desperately need a lot of home repairs done.) She assumed I'd work something out in trade. To that thought, I just rolled my eyes. Aren't I getting a little too old for those fun and games? Besides, is the barter system still used in this country? If so, what's the going rate for home repairs? 

Saturday, May 08, 2021

A Rose By Any Other Name

Mother's Day is tomorrow and I'm not going to the cemetery.  I can't.  I sit here and feel my mother with me each day and that's enough. I don't need to go visit her.

I wish I could say I'm in better shape than I am, but I'm not.  I feel like I have emotional diarrhea. How's that's for an image to get stuck in your head?  Now, all I need is some emotional Imodium or Pepto Bismol.  I can get happy and pink all in the same moment! Seriously, I woke up this morning and I was crying. How can a person cry in their sleep? I don't think I was dreaming or if I was I don't remember what I was dreaming about. I just feel drained and lost all the time. 

I wish I could say it's all is due to my mother's death, but I don't think it is.  I think it's me. If it was self-pity. I would kick myself in the ass and get on with it, but this goes way beyond simple self-pity. This fearless creature known as Mildred Ratched is actually scared and for the first time in her life she's absolutely clueless. I'm a basket case and just a step shy of being a blithering idiot.

So, I soothed myself by getting my hands extremely dirty. I mixed up a batch of cow manure, peat moss and dirt from my compost pile to plant some flowers, then I watched all the birds play in my backyard. Now, I sit here in my living room (I'm taking a break with a Coke and a smile) and the birds are singing so loud I can hear them.  They must want me to come back outside??? If that's the case, they want me to fill their bird feeders. I guess I should go make them happy...

Monday, March 15, 2021

An Emotional Cutter's Life - Part II

Perhaps I should start Part II with my definition of "emotional cutter." An emotional cutter and a drama queen share many of the same characteristics, but their motivation for their bizarre behavior is at opposite ends of the spectrum. Whereas a drama queen creates situations in order to call attention to themselves, an emotional cutter may perk along for awhile with everything going well and then BOOM! It happens! An emotional cutter can't stand serenity, so they will rip the scab off the wound just to feel alive. Happiness is a foreign feeling...pain is what we feel comfortable feeling and there's nothing like feeling pain to let yourself know you're still alive. As I teeter on the edge, I poke and prod and make myself miserable and blame myself for all sorts of things. The drama is like it is with a drama queen, but unlike our "drama queen" cousins, we suffer in silence and many times, not a soul will see our pain.  We're masters at covering it up like a cat working diligently in a litter box.  We skillfully cover that pile of crap we call life and wear a smile while we suffer in silence.

When you're young, you can only hold things in for so long before the pot boils over. And when the pot boiled over in my case, everyone just scratched their heads. Of course, it was much easier to just label me as a "bad kid" at that point, but I wasn't a bad kid! I was never a bad kid. Sure, I always had a bit of a rebel in me, but I wasn't bad. I just always had a mind of my own. Is that a bad thing?  I started doing drugs to dull the pain and I kept doing drugs because being comfortably numb worked. Are you acquainted with being comfortably numb? My comfortably numb almost killed me. My comfortably numb almost tore my heart from my body and locked it in a dark dungeon where no one could hurt me. It was my safe place. I felt nothing. No pain! No fear! No hate! No anger! But no joy or pleasure or love either. Emotional bankruptcy is void of everything and anything, but it's a safe place to hide out until either you're forced back into the land of the living or you perish forever. 

My mother wasn't what I would say was a warm, nurturing person or at least, that's how I saw her. She was an only child and I don't think she was equipped to handle difficult situations like raising four children while dealing with an alcoholic husband. I don't think many people are suitably equipped for that task. I think like most people who fall in love, they go into the relationship with unrealistic expectations.  Life is wonderful until reality hits. In my mother's case, I believe when reality hit, it made her angry and bitter. Instead of focusing on what was in front of her, she became encapsulated in a cloud of her own angst. Listening to her talk about life on Walter Street, it was always all about her own pain. It was as if my brothers and I didn't exist or our pain was less important than hers. A few times over the years, I'd get frustrated from listening to her synopsis and I'd remind her as she recounted those years from what we all refer to as "the hornet's nest," that I knew the story too well because I lived it, too. I'd let her rave on about what a son of a bitch my father was and at the end, I'd make her say one nice thing about him. That always rattled her!

She didn't hug me much. I guess she didn't hug any of us very much that I remember. She screamed a lot. Just ask anyone in the neighborhood. Anyone not knowing us would have thought we were the children from Hell. She also loved to whack the bejesus out of all of us, but I remember the last time she tried to do that. I was old enough by then to stick up for myself. When she was about to hit me with something, probably a hairbrush, I grabbed her wrist and I told her not to ever hit me again. The look on her face was priceless. A true Kodak moment! I'm sure if I could ask her about it now, she'd claim she doesn't remember it, but I remember it too well. I think it's when Mildred was born. Mildred is pretty fearless and a force to be reckoned with when needed. From that day on, I did things my way. It seemed to amuse her when she'd tell people that I stopped listening to her when I was about 12 years old. Oh yes! Her attempt to control me was a total failure and that beat of a distant drum she claimed I heard was more like a whole symphony. Her need to control things that were out of control continued, but it no longer affected me until much later in life.

I have to admit that it did my heart good to see her life change when she married my step-father. He treated her well and tried to give her everything she wanted. The struggles she had once faced were behind her and she was finally able to bloom. Yes, her dream of becoming a fashion designer was gone, but instead she became an artist. Living life under totally different circumstances seemed to make all the difference in the world. Yes, she still had those "only child" tendencies, but she didn't scream and wasn't angry all the time. It was nice to see her in a different light. When she and my step-father had first gotten to the point of needing someone to live with them, my adult daughter volunteered. About three weeks after she had moved in, I got a phone call at work from my daughter where she announced to me that she now understood why I did drugs when I was younger. To that lightbulb moment of hers, I first laughed and then, I responded by telling her that her grandmother had mellowed out in her old age and that she wasn't the same person now as she was then when I was a teenager.