BACK IN THE DAY...

I found a newspaper article awhile ago and honestly didn't know how I felt about it. Parents are children's first teachers and role models so if parents want their children to cuss like drunken sailors then I'm all for teaching children how to spell "fuck" right along with teaching them how to spell "cat" and "dog" correctly.  So if we want our young females to look and act like hoochie mommas/cum dumpsters then we (mothers) must set that example at home and other places. Why not have our young daughters wear make up, skin tight daisy dukes and low cut crop tops to school or better yet to church? Or how about let's teach our children that school is a place to get an education? A place that will only better their life in the future if they put in some time and effort into it and treat it with the respect it deserves. OMG! When did I drink the Kool-Aid? lol! Mildred is that really you?

Back in April, a school in Houston, Texas set a dress code for parents...yes, you read that right! I wrote "P-A-R-E-N-T-S". Please read the letter that was sent home to the parents and tell me what you think. Should schools have a dress code for both students and parents? Do the schools have a right to dictate what a parent can wear on school property? Or are dress codes a violation of a parent's 1st Amendment Right? What do you think? I know! People should know better! Parents should set a good example! Blah! Blah! Blah! But take a look around...do they really know better? You tell me????

A mother in Texas claims she wasn’t allowed to enroll her daughter in school because of the outfit she was wearing. KPRC reported that Joselyn Lewis was asked to leave Madison High School after wearing a T-shirt dress of Marilyn Monroe and a head scarf. Lewis said she recently pulled her daughter out of another school due to bullying and wanted to enroll her at Madison High.
“I wanted to see proof of where it says parents can come dressed a certain way, but it wouldn’t show me that. I wouldn’t leave, so they called the police department. They called them on me and I guess he was coming to tell me to leave, but I was already on the phone with the school board,” Lewis said.

(I don't mean to throw Ms. Lewis under the proverbial bus because I've seen mothers dressed much worse, but this is the photo that came with the article.)

I think back to a time when my mother wouldn't leave the house unless she was all decked out. When she moved to Florida, it took her a long time to get used to casual dressing and wearing shorts out in public. Now, whenever I go to Walmart I see people in pajamas and worse. They look like they rolled out of bed and I'm beginning to wonder if there's such a thing as "sleep driving" (similar to sleep walking) because they all seem to end up at Walmart. Follow your dreams to Walmart, but don't forget to bring your wallet!

DARK SHADOWS

When I was young younger, I used to race home from school to watch Dark Shadows on the boob tube. Yes, it was a poorly made, low budget horror? soap, but most kids from my generation ate it up as if it was written by God himself.

Several years ago I bought the complete Dark Shadows set and I sat and watched it with my Shih Tzu, Fenway. She and I thoroughly enjoyed the simplicity/complexity of it and its packaging was simply genius. The DVD's come in a coffin housing the individual DVD's that make a picture of Barnabus Collins (Jonathan Frid), a 175 year old vampire resting in his coffin.

Is there anyone out there who was a Dark Shadows fan and wants to come binge watch Dark Shadows with me? I'm sorry, but the plane ticket is not included, but the popcorn is!

Spinning The Principal

By the time I got to 6th grade, Mr. Honey (pronounced Hone-ey) was not only the principal of Larkin Street School, but he was the 6th grade teacher as well.  I guess he figured all 6th graders at his school needed a special kick in the butt before entering Junior High School and he was just the man for that dubious distinction.  For the most part, I'd give him an A for being a good teacher, but an F for being a horrible, hardass principal. 

Our class was probably average sized for that time period.  There was roughly twenty of us to his one.   Class sizes had shrunk considerably a few year before when Dow Air Force Base was decommissioned.  Out of those 20 or so in my 6th grade class, today I can only remember a handful of people's names: Mike, Rod, Noreen, Margie, Sherry, Dana, Nancy, Bart, Junior, Carol, Cheryl and Colleen.  I guess that's a pretty big handful, isn't it? 

On many occasions Mr. Honey not only taught us the standard 6th grade curriculum, but he tried to prepare us for life as best he could. I remember him telling us that statistically speaking one of us wouldn't make it to adulthood. What? One of us would die?  His words, I'm sure, were said to make all of us a little more watchful of our own actions and the actions of others, however; I doubt his words were remembered by many after he spoke them.  After all, at that age, aren't we all invincible?  His words have definitely resonated in my head a few times along the way and for awhile I believed I was going to be that statistic.  But lo and behold not only did I fool myself, I fooled many others who had the same thought.

Sixth grade was definitely a year of spreading my wings and learning to think outside the box.  Until this point I was a good kid and a good student.  Sure, I was a little on the chatty side and my mouth seemed to always be described in detail in notes on my report cards.  I even earned the nickname "Gabby" when I was younger and thank God it didn't stick!  I had in many instances learned that clowning around and running my mouth was a good cover for what was really going on underneath.

Mr. Honey fell from my grace the day he suspended several of us from school because he knew all of us would have to face our parents as well.  Kids rarely use their brains when being mischievous especially kids with poor impulse control.  Planning things out is a learned behavior and comes with experience.  A bunch of us had decided to play spin the bottle after school with a glass milk bottle one of us had stolen from inside the school.  We selected a secluded corner of the schoolyard in back of the school for the spot to make our circle.  None of us gave a thought to teachers still being inside the school.  We all thought the spot we had selected was safe from any prying eyes.  In reality, I'm sure whatever teacher witnessed this spectacle was amused by what she saw, but such unruly actions had to be severely dealt with by administering a punishment that would keep us all from doing anything like that again. Suspension was what Mr. Honey selected and all that did for me was make me want to test authority all the more.

Addendum:  I can't count this as my first official kiss because I didn't get kissed because the game was rudely interrupted before that could happen. I hate when that happens! These are just some of the woes of being a clueless, numb as a stump 11 year old who got suspended from school for playing spin the bottle!

The Rock Psychosis

My family has a rock psychosis. Maybe I should call it a fetish to be more polite, but I've always called a spade a spade and in this case, a rock a rock.  I don't know exactly why, when or where it started, but my first recollection that something was amiss in the genepool was when I found out about my grandfather Ingalls' rock collection.  When my daughter was a young girl, my mother and step-father would take her to Maine whenever they went.  When she was about 8, she came back to Florida with tales of her great grandfather's rock collection.

He had asked her if she wanted to see his rock collection when they visited him.  What she was expecting to see was small samples of various types of rocks, so when he opened the dresser drawers in his bedroom that housed his rock collection she was surprised by what she saw.  All the drawers in the room were crammed full of rocks of all shapes and sizes that he had found on the ground wherever he went. None of them were colorful or in any way special except to him. She concluded her story by telling me that he must be crazy.  Although I did tell her it wasn't very nice to say that about anyone, in reality, she had hit the nail directly on the head. I was silently proud of my daughter for being so astute at such a young age.

As the fever grew and spread, my mother and my oldest brother developed the psychosis.  In the beginning, my mother would bring rocks home from Maine to use as doorstops or various other things.  I guess that was acceptable, but when I went to Maine one year and used the car she kept there to use during her extended stays, I found rocks in the trunk and under the front seat. All I could do was shake my head when I made the discovery.  As my mother started her collection my oldest brother started building stone walls on his property at the same time. Everyone was quite impressed by all he had done. His stone walls were beautiful! Everyone knows it takes a certain eye to be able to look at a rock elsewhere and know it's just the right shape and size to go in a certain spot in the wall you've been building.  I think the fever really took hold of him when he skillfully lined the ditches in front of his property with rocks.  It looked wonderful, but unfortunately, he was forced to remove all his ditch work due to some county ordinance. Unfortunately, Big Brother was apparently watching my big brother!  I prefer to think it was probably some jealous neighbor who had rock envy who ratted him out and not some county official riding around looking for ordinance violations.

   

Old Lady With Sagging Breasts

BLOTUS

I was selective in which rocks I hauled back to Florida.  They all had to come from a loved one's yard so each one would have good mojo in them.  It was like bringing a part of that person back with me.  My rocks found a new home in my flower garden. Florida is rather barren where rocks are concerned, so I have to get my "rock fix" while traveling.  After strategically stacking my rocks and closely scrutinizing the structure I had built, I dubbed it "Old Lady With Sagging Breasts".

When my daughter and her husband went to Europe last year, I forbid her to buy any gifts for me while she was traveling. I told her to pick up some rocks from the ground for me from the places they went. When she came back, she presented me with a jar full of rocks that had been bagged and tagged. I laughed and told her that the Pope had probably peed on the one from the Vatican. She assured me that she had washed all the rocks before putting them into baggies. When she had visited Berlin many years ago, I asked her to bring me back a piece of the Berlin Wall. Of course, she did as I asked and I think that may be my favorite rock/piece of concrete or whatever material the Berlin Wall was made from.

As my "large" rock collection grew, I decided to disassemble "Old Lady With Sagging Breasts" and replace it with a larger statue. I had no particular idea in my head when I sat on the ground and built a new statue. My daughter says it looks like a gorilla. Initially, before I attached a penis to it, I said it reminded me of Angelina Jolie (it must have been the lips) [lol]. My youngest son said it reminds him of an alien. What do you think? He ultimately was given the name BLOTUS.

The World Is A Sick, Twisted Place

I realize that today's world is a sick and twisted place to reside, but to date, it still beats the alternative. Once in awhile when I'm listening to the news, I hear something that makes me wonder if I correctly heard what was reported. I immediately say, "WTF?" In the past few months I've heard two news stories that I thought were just a spoof, but unfortunately after researching them, I found out that both stories were reported correctly. Imagine that! Can you believe that the FAKE NEWS actually reports something that's truthful?

Attention Walmart Shoppers: The story below entails sickos psychos who feel the need to put razor blades on the underneath part of the shopping cart handles at various Walmarts across the country so when someone grabs the shopping cart handle, they'll cut their hands. After doing a little research, I found out that this is an ongoing "thing" across the country. Please explain to me who would derive satisfaction out of doing something like that?  What in hell is wrong with people?



The next story involves the state of Kentucky passing a law last month outlawing bestiality. OMG! You mean to tell me that people need a law passed so they won't fuck their sheep and goats. Seriously? And if you're wondering if Kentucky was the last state to pass a bestiality ban, wonder no more! There's still states where animals aren't safe. The article claims that people perverts who sexually assault animals have a violent tendency towards women and children. In my most humble opinion, making bestiality a Class D felony isn't a stiff enough punishment. Five years in prison? Really? And then what? The person gets out of prison and they move to West Virginia or Wyoming to live happily ever after with their favorite goat. I'm sorry! But this makes me sick to my stomach. I think they all should be locked up with a grizzly bear in heat.

Kentucky Passes Bill to Outlaw Sex With Animals

Four other states and Washington D.C. are the last remaining areas in the U.S. that don't have a law against bestiality

March 28, 2019 - 8:25 am

Kentucky Governor Matt Bevin has signed a bill that would make it illegal for a person to have sex with an animal in the state.

The bill defines the illegal interaction as "any act committed between a person and an animal for the purpose of sexual arousal, sexual gratification, abuse or financial gain".

Kentucky is one of the final states in the union to outlaw sex with animals. The remaining states without a law that prohibits bestiality are: Wyoming, New Mexico, West Virginia, Hawaii and Washington, D.C.

"Not only will it protect our animals from abuse, but it will also protect women and children from violence," said Sen. Julie Raque Adams according to the Courier Journal. "It is proven beyond a doubt that persons who sexually assault animals are very likely to turn their violent tendencies toward women and children."

SB 67 easily passed through Kentucky's House and Senate, making sex crimes with animals a Class D felony, punishable by up to five years in prison.

Source: 

Legality of bestiality in the United States:

  Bestiality is legal

  Bestiality is a misdemeanor

  Bestiality is a misdemeanor or a felony

  Bestiality is a felony

DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR CHILDREN ARE?

Recently, I started thinking about all the changes that televisions have undergone in my lifetime. When I was a kid, a TV set was tiny compared to the room size ones we have today and initially, the television shows were all in black and white. Imagine that? We had to imagine what the colors were! Finally owning a color TV was like manna from heaven.

Getting the display on screen just right was sometimes a little tricky. Besides the picture rolling at times and having to be adjusted, someone would have to "play" with the rabbit ears to position them in just the right spot to get the best picture possible while someone else strategically positioned would bark out "a little more that way..." If the reception still sucked, many people would wrap bow-like pieces of tinfoil on the ends of the rabbit ears hoping for some magic result. I still have a pair of rabbit ears poked away in a closet just in case of a zombie apocalypse or an alien invasion. Now, all I need to do is stock up on food and weapons...oh yeah, and lots of tin foil for the rabbit ears and to make tin foil hats.

Keep in mind, when I was a kid we only had 3 networks...ABC, CBS and NBC. Nowadays, we have hundreds of channels, but many times people complain that they can't find anything to watch. Hey, if you can't find anything on the television, there's Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime and a slew of other options. Three channels and guess what? I don't remember anyone ever complaining that they couldn't find something to watch except when the channels would sign off late at night. Insomniacs were S.O.L in those days! I don't remember exactly what time sign off was. I know on the weekends we would stay up and watch monster movies on Weird (a local program hosted by Eddie Driscoll) and Outer Limits, but I don't remember exactly when the broadcast "flatline" would occur.

One thing that I always thought was funny was when the ominous question, "It's 10 PM. Do you know where your children are?" was asked every night. I don't remember exactly when or why that stopped. Can you imagine if that was asked on television nowadays?  Today's youth would roll their eyes and say something horribly disrespectful. Back in the day, we might get away with an occasional eyeroll, but most of us knew better than to tell our parents to "fuck off "

Also can you imagine having to walk to the television in order to change the channel? How undignified is that? Parents claimed that's what having children were for...that and doing dishes or any other menial household chores that they had grown weary of doing. They claimed it taught us responsibility. I'll have to ponder that one another few decades! The only thing the convenience of having a remote control has done is to enable us to become lazier and less motivated. Channel surfing wasn't done back in the Stone Age because having three channels didn't require much surfing. One! Two! Three! Presto! You're back to the beginning.

I just looked at the first picture I posted and two things immediately jumped out at me...my mother should have been horse-whipped for cutting my hair short and perming it (what the hell was she thinking) and she had horrible taste in décor. I guess I could look at it like this...I was fashion forward! I wore an afro long before they were in style and her decorating style was eclectic. Phew! That takes the sting completely out of looking at that picture.