Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I'VE BEEN WORKING OUT pretty hard the last few weeks. I've had enough of the sitting around eating of the winter, and had to get out there and move it some. My long time readers know that I use to be obese. I researched and became my own nutritionalist and trainer. I went from a tight 18W/20 to a nice fitting 5/6. I've read pretty much every "diet" out there. Guess what! They all say the same thing, "Eat right and exercise." Seriously, that's all they're about. But that's a sideline...
I've been working really hard. I jog up the steap hill that I live on over and over again until my thighs, calves, and butt burn. Then I do it again for good measure. I jog 50-60 minutes every day (except Sunday...that's my day off). I work my abs hard. I do crunches and criss-scrosses and several other moves until it feels like I've a dang blowtorch on my stomach. Then I push just a little harder...just a few more...until I quite litterally can not get another out.
For all of this hard work, I should be sore in the morning. RIGHT? I need to feel sore. I need to know that I'm pushing hard enough and that's how I measure it, by how sore I am in the morning. I've even tried working out twice in one day.
I have lost nearly half of my winter weight gain, and my clothes are fitting better, but I NEED the pain. I WANT the pain. I loose motivation without the pain.
I DESERVE THE FREAKING PAIN!!!
Planted he garden this morning. :)
Sunday, June 03, 2007
I can't eat in the morning. I have to be up for a few hours before I can eat. I like to do my aerobics and putz around. Then I have breakfast, which I drink (tofu, frozen berries, grapefruit juice, protien powder blended wonderfully together).
Just looking at the healthy breakfast that they had put together for me (Fiber One cereal, skim milk, apple, small piece of toast from homemade bread), made me want to vomit. But being the good mother that I am, I ate the cereal and toast (I just couldn't handle the apple at the moment) even though I had been planning on working out. Of course now I can't work out because I feel like I'm going to hurl.
I think if I did hurled I'd feel a great deal better.
I want THIS SHIRT in pink, size large.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
My eldest is in D.C. with a group of eighth graders. That includes 8th grade girls with boobs that are way too big wearing shirts that are way too small and pants that they roll down so low you KNOW they had to shave. And their mothers will wonder why they're pregnant at 15.
We have our first hatchlings here at the farm. They're so cute, but I can't get a picture because the mamma hen pecks me when I pull her nest out to look at them. I'll get you pictures when she pushes them out of the nest in another week.
We are also babysitting a baby goat this weekend. He has to be bottle fed three times a day. It's so much fun!!! That I have pictures of and will post later.
I'm having thoughts about my blog. You see, when I started "The True Bitch Inside" I was angry at the world, angry at God, and had a chip on my shoulder the size of Gilbrata. That is no longer the case. I still have pockets of anger that I'm sure I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life, but I no longer wish to make anger the center point of my life. I don't want to be known for that. I don't think that I want to be Krystal the Bitch any more.
So I sit and ponder what to do with this blog.
Oh, and happy June!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
when I first saw the smoke I thought, "The chicken boiled over on the stove, so now there's some smoke." I turned the fan on over the kitchen stove. But the smoke got thicker.
And there wasn't any in the kitchen.
So I go out into the living room to open the windows when I smell something burning that isn't chicken stock on the stove. As I walk across the room I smell the smell of burning paper and wood and something else. So I opened the window to let it out and go smelling the rest of the house. My mother-in-law is walking around smelling too.
I say to my fourteen-year-old, "Go see if you smell smoke in the basement." I hear that the basement is full of smoke. I go running down and when I inhaled I started to cough and choke. I handed him the box of kittens (our cat had kittens earlier this month) and I yell upstairs for everyone to get out of the house, there's a fire.
The smoke appears to be coming out from under the door to my husband's office, which is full of kindling...I mean books. I always thought I'd grab my Daddy's trumpet or pictures, but faced with the reality of a house fire, I got the kids out of the house, called 9-1-1, shooed out the animals, and grabbed my cell phone so I could call my Bear.
My father-in-law showed up about five minutes later. He found the source and put it out. A mouse had chewed through an extension cord. There was short. Some of the exposed wire was touching a piece of cardboard and a piece of wood. He unplugged the extension cord.
The fire department showed up and said that it was a good thing we were home. He said that the cord was burning and would have reach the electrical outlet it was plugged into and that would have been that.
I was pretty good for the first ten minutes the firemen were here. Then it hit me that had we gone to the park like we had planned to do, we would have lost our home and everything in it.
Of course, the only thing I was concerned about when facing the possibility of loosing my home was my family and the pets.
I am very blessed that God was watching over us. I'm so eternally thankful that my father-in-law forgot to get something at the store so he had to go back. I'm thankful that we got a late start this morning. I'm thankful that my FIL and children had meandered at the store to begin with. All these things made it too late to go.
But I am thankful, most thankful, that God allowed the short while we were here to stop the fire before it occured, instead of letting it go last night while we were gone or tonight while we were asleep.
I am very thankful, God, and I wish I could find the wight words with which to tell you what I feel in my heart at this moment. But I can't. So thank-you through tears will just have to do.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
DNA Clears Man of Two Child Murders
In short, this man was convicted of raping and murdering his girlfriend's two children twenty years ago. He has now been exonerated using modern technological advances.
"It is better that 100 guilty men go free than one innocent man stands convicted" - Thomas Jefferson
It would be nice if our system made it impossible for an innocent man to be convicted of a crime he did not commit. However, our system is run by men who are by nature flawed. Therefore, our system cannot help but have failure in it. As reprehensible as it may be, there are and will continue to be innocent persons who are punished unjustly. This, not the willful act of the people, but one which simply cannot be avoided.
When this travesty does occur and a person's life has been destroyed, one cannot help but feel remorse for the one imprisoned wrongly, and their loved ones. I feel that it is incumbent upon us to do our best to restore said person to the best of our abilities and also pay restitution for the hardships they were forced to endure.
Apparently the government agrees … and has set that amount at $25,000 per year. (This is where I start to rant…)
Let's start with the fact that this money isn't paid automatically, he must APPLY for it. Well, I feel that time in prison by an innocent man is application enough.
Also, $25,000 a year isn't NEARLY enough for what this man has lost. After twenty years in prison he is eligible for a mere $500,000. If the U.S. Government gets to tax it, he might walk away with a little over half of that. But I'd like to examine what this man endured, his trials, over the last twenty years to determine if the $500,000 is truly a worthy number:
20 years of the title "Child Molester and Murderer";
20 years of the stigma that goes with his title;
20 years of confinement;
20 years of sexual assault (let's not bury our heads in the sand and pretend we are unaware of what happens in prison, particularly to rapist and child molesters);
20 years of prison fights;
20 years of prison food;
20 years without daily physical contact with those he loves;
20 years without vacations or respite;
20 years of hell most of us would not even want to IMAGINE, much less live.
I look back over the last twenty years of my life and at age 36 I am heavy-hearted of what he missed out on:
Love and commitment;
the chance to take what he has earned and invest it;
a home to call his own;
a life in general.
Does $500,000 really provide any justice at all for what this man has been through and what he has lost?
Let's see, the woman who foolishly opened a containing of hot coffee in her car as they pulled away from McDonald's received how many MILLION in compensation for her own irresponsible act of stupidity?
I realize that in reality, we as a society can never repay this man for what it has cost him, but we could at least put forth a serious effort. How much is a man's life worth when it has been stolen from him?
I would say that $500,000 isn't nearly enough. Yes, we need to set a limit, but what is that limit knowing that it will never be enough? Realizing that money can never restore to him what was stripped of him, we should at least see to it that he can live comfortably for the rest of his life. We owe him that much.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Yet, Hugh Heffner has three whores actually living with him, which he's been doing for decades, and no one says a word to him. Believe me, they're getting paid for their, uh, SERVICES, but I don't see any of them being prosecuted. "It's their lifestyle, how they choose to live."
Yeah, okay, so as Bear pointed out, Heff can live with three women having sex with each and they get a television show. BUT some guy in Utah who's willing to commit to three women for a lifetime and have children with them and raise them, yeah, HE goes to jail. WTH??? Evidently here the issue is with the commitment. Maybe those guys out in Utah need to stop marrying these women and just live with them all instead. Then they could have an entire damned harem and the government won't care. Just. Don't. Call. It. Marriage. and they'll be okay.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
This is the third time she's done this in three years, and the worse! I spanked her butt (which I hadn't done before), I told her she looked like a stupid idiot (which she does...you should have seen the looks we were getting at the store when I had to go), and she's grounded from the television until it grows out. I told her to have a fun two months. I didn't buy her the baby stroller I was going to get her and I'm not taking her for ice cream tomorrow either. In fact, I'm not taking her anyway I don't absolutely HAVE to until she no longer looks like she does.
And for those of you laughing, go screw yourselves!
Monday, April 16, 2007
I love Jason Whitlock!
He so speaks the truth!
Watch the videos. I couldn't have said any of this better myself. MLK would be proud!!!
Of course Snoop Dog is taking total offense to what Imus said and to being compared to Imus:
"[Rappers] are not talking about no collegiate basketball girls who have made it to the next level in education and sports. We're talking about ho's that's in the 'hood that ain't doing sh--, that's trying to get a n---a for his money. These are two separate things. First of all, we ain't no old-ass white men that sit up on MSNBC."
So, according to Snoop Dog, it's okay to use the term "ho" when you are referring to females in "the hood", but not once they pursue an education (which he himself so desperately needs). So Imus's real mistake here wasn't in using the term "ho" but in HOW he used it. Thanks for the 4-1-1 Snoop. It's all clear to me now.
Oh, and while you're at it, Snoop, could you give some clarification about when the term "n---a" is an appropriate term and when it's not. Since you and your ilk, and those who purchase that crap you record, have proven its use is more than acceptable, you should give instances and situations when the rednecks around here can use it. I wouldn't want anyone to add it to their repertoire of socially acceptable slang without their first being informed of when it should and shouldn't be used. After all a "n---a" must still be a "n---a" no matter who's doing the identification, right?
I love his description of Imus, "old-ass white man". The term is Caucassion, "old-ass Caucassion man," thank-you. Unless of course the "old-ass white man" gets to call you a "dumb-ass black man," which I don't think you'd appreciate, even if it is true. You are a dumb-ass who is making money from the degredation of your own race. Impressive. May I breathe the air you breathe?
Please note the dripping sarcasm. And for the record, Imus did a stupid, stupid thing.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
So I told her that no, Momma said VE-nus. Then when she left the room I laughed hysterical with my 14 & 11 year-old sons.
I put on my bathing suit. I have no arse. It has melted into my thighs. As I emailed a very good friend of mine, I am amazed at the amount of cellulite and fat that amassed on my ass during my winter hibernation. I must go now and do 1,000 squats and 1,000 lunges.
I am "to snack cakes, what Einstein was to nuclear physics" declared my bear on Friday. You see, another friend of mine had back surgery (her second in three weeks) and was on super drugs (she doesn't share well). The Xanax makes her crave chocolate. So off I was on the way to get her Ho-Ho's and brownie mix (she wanted the batter, not the actually brownies). So in the car on the phone with Bear I say that Ho-Ho's and Swiss Cake Rolls were the same. He had the audacity to say I. Was. Wrong.
We were discussing snack cakes. Saying *I* don't know what Swiss Cakes Rolls are is like saying Clinton didn't have sex with that woman (need another cigar there, Billy Boy?).
So after about five minutes Bear gets on the net. "Uh-oh" he says. He actually said uh-oh. HE had confused Swiss Cake Rolls with Zebra Cakes...two totally different beasts: Swiss Cake Rolls are chocolate cake rolled up with creamy filling and coating in chocolate...like Ho-Ho's, while Zebra Cakes are two layers of yellow cake with cream in between that are covered in WHITE coating with some chocolate lines on top (thus the name ZEBRA Cakes). They also have a salty sweet taste to them while Swiss Cakes Rolls are just plain sweet.
My knowledge of snack cakes is not to be questioned. Herein lies the reason my arse has melted into my thighs.
I've come up with a snazzy new nick-name for Bear's dog. Seeing how he's constantly getting out into the mud and getting burs stuck in his long thick fur which then TOTALLY mats up, I've decided to call him Nappy Headed Ho Dog. I realize that "ho" isn't typically used for males, BUT I've decided it works for this dog. Besides, once we get his balls cut off he'll be an it anyway SO it won't matter.
He doesn't appear to be traumatized by this new term of endearment which is a good thing. I wouldn't want to have Animal Planet or the Dog Whisperer get pissed off.
Till next time...
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Anyone else see this coming from a mile away?
Now Howard wants to be a part of her life no matter what because he was closest to Anna Nicole and wants to make sure the Dannielynn will have a good view of her mother. Well, and maybe it's just me, but I think that when she finds out that more than one man filed for testing to see if they were the father, and one man had to get court orders in two states and two countries for testing... When she finds out that her mother did all she could to prevent such testing claiming that Howard was the biological father and ONLY possible father...and yet he's not... Well, I think she's gonna know. Add the Playboy thing AND the marriage to the billionare old enough to be her great grandfather AND the drugged out show she did AND her party life AND her death to a drug overdose... Let's just say that Howard is going to be fighting an uphill battle to prevent this little girl from having certain views about her mom. He said he wants Anna Nicole remembered as a Marilyn Monroe figure. Never. Gonna. Happen.
I'm not judging Anna Nicole; her life WAS tumultuous to say the least. I'm just saying that this little girl isn't going to "know" her mom based on what Howard tells her, but on the history which was her mother's life.
I guess that's a lesson that we could all take to heart.
Here's a quiz from the Diva. I will have to say that it is completely and totally accurate until the last two lines. Those are the ONLY lines that doesn't fit me to a perfect T.
|The Keys to Your Heart|
You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.
Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.
You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.
In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I did take one of those online IQ tests. Here are my results:
The Classic IQ Test
What's Your IQ?
Your IQ score is 142
This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.
Your Intellectual Type is Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways. Like Plato, your exceptional math and verbal skills make you very adept at explaining things to others — and at anticipating and predicting patterns. And that's just some of what we know about you from your IQ results.
Maybe I'll post the full report when they email it to me. LOL!
HEY! My cat is pregnant. Now who wants a kitten in the mail?
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
It looks like they took an SUV and chopped off the back third and made it into a truck wanna be. It is absolutely one of THE most STUPID looking things I have ever seen. It is an absolute insult to the entire pick-up driving world. The flat bed is so damned small. Seriously, I was looking at this THING and thinking to myself, "Hey, mista! Whad ya gonna haul in that there truck of yours? A Hi-Fi and a speaker?!" BAH!
There are certain things in this life wherein size matters: pick-up trucks and penises, for example. A small "truck", like a small penis, is cute to look at. But when all is said and done, they're worthless for anything other than a good laugh (laughing AT you...not WITH you).
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Happy Anniversary to us!
Happy Anniversary to the Bitch and Bear!
Happy Anniversary to us!
In honor of our anniversary, and in happy recollection of what I've been getting the last couple days, I declare that "Bear" shall henceforth be known on my blog as "The Well Hung One" (T-WHO for short...which he most definitely is not). After fifteen years of marriage (and nearly seventeen years of sexual engagement), the man still totally rocks my world, and makes me purr like a kitten afterwards.
He has ruined me for all other men.
Thank-you, The Well Hung One, for taking your time to do it right...each...and...every...time...!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
And then she got a tatoo.
The girl needs help. The girl needs serious help. Personally, I think that she had to shave her head because of the drugs she's been doing. I bet a dollar to a dime that her drug use has been brought up in the custody battle for her boys and that she shaved her head so they couldn't get a hair sample from her to test for recent drug use over the last several months.
Or she's on crack.
Nicole Ritchie may be going to jail for 3-12 months. I don't know why, I didn't read the article. But I do know that it isn't for stealing a Big Mac, large fries and a coke.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
I closed the door leading out from the walk-out basement last Tuesday morning. I know I did. But you see, the door doesn't catch well. That's why I always tell the kids you HAVE to latch it because the wind blows it open.
I went to feed the chickens and gather the eggs, but I went back into the house from the side of the house. I really intended to run right down stairs to the door, but the phone rang and my daughter was hungry.
I went downstairs to change the laundry when I saw the open door. OMG! THE RABBIT!!! The rabbit was gone. I looked all over the basement praying she was hiding. She wasn't. I looked all around the backyard. Couldn't find her. So I left the door open hoping she'd hop back in like she did the couple times she got out on the kids.
I ran upstairs with the laundry basket when the electric company lady showed up to read the meter. The little 7 lb yipper wouldn't stop barking at her, so I went outside.
That's when I saw it.
Kaitlyn the dog was EATING Patches the rabbit.
I yelled at Kaitlyn to drop the rabbit, but it was too later. She'd already ripped her head off. I chased her down yelling at her to drop it because we don't...eat...family...members! The electric company woman said she thought the rabbit was awful pretty to had been a wild rabbit.
I picked Patches up by the foot. The electric company lady had a plastic bag. I put the bunny in it. I looked for the head for about half an hour. I figure Kaitlyn already ate it. It still hasn't shown up so I guess she did.
I didn't tell the kids Patches became dog food. They just think she ran around. I told them to keep an eye out for little brown bunnies because I was just sure that Patches would find a boyfriend and they'd make lots of pretty little bunnies. I know it's lying, but how do you tell your children that their rabbit is dead because you left the door open and the dog was hungry?!
So now I am not only a killer of mice, but evidently I am a a killer of rabbits as well.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Ralph the Mouse was a field mouse that took up residence in the boys' bedroom upstairs. He use to sniff my eldest son's toes at night sometimes. Last night I found out about Ralph. Ralph the Mouse is now dead. No more motorcycle rides for Ralph. He met his demise in a wooden mouse trap baited with peanut butter. I took his body out of the trap and flung him into the woods by his tail. Touching dead mice doesn't bother me. I'm sure he'll be eaten by morning. Then I reset the trap just in case Ralph has family here.
I would not have had to been the bad guy who killed Ralph the Mouse if the Defective Cat would catch mice instead of watching them run by. That is why I got a cat, to catch the field mice that try to move in my house. But my cat is defective. She prefers to jump up on my countertop, rip open the bread, and eat the the crust. She likes bread. She is stupid.
And now, I am a mouse killer.
Friday, January 19, 2007
My baby girl had fevers of 104.7 and 104.9. Those were fun. The boys never went about 103.7. They're fine now. But I've also been sick. I'm hacking up green globs of slime. What doesn't come up after boughts of coughing and hacking comes out my nose. It's been going on for a week. Now I blow my nose and there are globs of slime mixed with pools of blood from the broken blood vessels in my sinuses. Sometimes it's all just bloody and slimey. It's truly nasty.
And I had to share.
I'm taking a antihistamine ever 12 hours, or sooner if I think I need it. The directions say every 24 hours, but I need the green slime to dry up and go away. I may be damaging my liver, but I must rid myself of the slime. It's nasty.
Sudafed doesn't work. I went to the pharmacy window and showed them my ID, like a comman criminal, so the government can keep track of how much I purchase. They want to make sure I'm not using it for crystal meth and block me from purchasing more than two packages a month. Screw the government! They use bleach in crystal meth as well, but I don't have to show my ID for that now am I told that I can only have two bottles a month. I have a house full of sick people. We. Need. Drugs.
Sudafed isn't working anyway. Nyquil appears to be the magic cure. LONG LIVE NYQUIL!!!! And I take it every six hours like the package says, day and night, because it helps me breath.
I should come up with some way to make something illegal out of Nyquil.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Long time, no personal blogging. I know, and I apologize. It was nice coming up and finding accumulated comments from the last week or so. Hope you all had a LOVELY holiday season!
Anyone ever see that movie Mousehunt? Well, I have a relative to that mouse in my laundry room. It's not evil, just smart. I've set several traps and the little guy keeps setting them off and then stealing the bait and escaping unscathed.
We have a cat.
She WATCHES the mouse instead of CATCHING the mouse.
So I have this little brown field mouse (cute actually) living in my laundry room leaving little mouse droppings along the baseboards. Such fun.
In the news...Paris Hilton ran out of gas on the side of the road. She "forgot" she needed gas. She's never pumped gas in her life. Do you think she knows what an idiot she is, or is she truly just THAT stupid? I mean REALLY. She borders on retarded. In no way is that meant as an insult to other retarded people. It's just that, WOW, could this girl survive on her own? I know that there are girls that are spoiled, like Nicole Richie. But something inside tells me that Nicole has it inside her to steel herself up and survive...if she can remember to eat. But Paris, I think she'd die of dehydration trying to figure out how to get water out of a lake.
She does have one talent, she knows how to have sex...with anyone....on videotape. Her parents must be so proud.
Gators won the National Championship! Word up, BEAR!We are expecting again. No, not me, my dog. You see, my husband's mixed breed mutt that was dumped at the barn knocked up my BEAUTIFUL pure-bred with papers, whose puppies are worth $1,000 each. Now her puppies are worthless and I'll have to BEG people to take them. I was doing really well at keeping them apart because I knew she was going into heat soon. Unfortunately one of the kids let them out at the same time and I found them locked up on my back porch. Her bleeding stopped immediately, which means it probably took and we are probably going to have puppies.
I'm. Keeping. One. Of. Them.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Sounds like fun.
To be totally honest, I've grown accustomed to having my day pretty much to myself, asside from the two hours I spend doing K with my youngest. Now my days will be dictated by homeschooling again. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoyed teaching my children at home, but having had the taste of freedom, it's a bit harder to get back to.
Of course sending him to private school has it's issues as well. For example, there's no bus. That means that I have to drop him off and pick him up every day. I won't be able to spend the day in my PJ's and I won't be able to run a little long on my afternoon errands because there's no bus dropping him off at the end of the street anymore.
And I've been told that these people can be a bit religiously fanatical. I can deal with that I guess.
I just hope that he doesn't go to school and start using the "F", "A" or "B" words which he's been saying around his younger brothers. Maybe we'll just say he has Terrets as well and can't help it.
I wish I had never put my children in public school at all (except for the eldest who wants to attend the regular high school). It's a lot easier to keep on doing than it is to stop and then restart. Seriously, I've no idea how to start homeschooling in the middle of the year like this.
I need to think...
and that isn't exactly my forte...