Because the Diva requested it...

Your Stripper Song Is

Closer by Nine Inch Nails "You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I?ve got no Soul to tell" When you dance, it's a little scary - and a lot sexy.

What Song Should You Strip To?

Because Sonia requested it...

Ten of life's simple pleasures.

1. Being held in my Bear's arms.

2. Making love to my Bear.

3. Dancing for my Bear.

4. Holding my babies.

5. Feeling my babies kick when they were still inside me.

6. Breastfeeding.

7. Being nekid.

8. Holding a pet.

9. Walking in untouched nature.

10. Eating in food someone else cooked knowing that someone else will clean it up.

I need help...

I need suggestions of amazingly seductive and sexy music to strip to. I'm looking for songs along the lines of Those Shoes (The Eagles), Reefer Head Woman (Aerosmith) and Dazed and Confused (Led Zeppelin). If you have any suggestions, please let me know. If you aren't familiar with these, you can find them at Barnes and Noble.

Thank-you!

Your Deadly Sins

Lust: 60%

Gluttony: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Envy: 0%

Greed: 0%

Pride: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You'll die of a yet to be discovered STD.

How Sinful Are You?

That was fun.

Alrighty then...someone explain how I can live in a place where people own horses like most of the country owns dogs, and yet there is NOT a country-western wear store within a two hour radius? Someone explain that irritating fact to me. Even more absurd is that in Ft. Lauderdale, I could have found a dozen within an hour's drive.

I was hit on while Bear was visiting. This is riveting...

He Says: Nice hat.

I Say: Thank-you.

He Says: Do you like country music?

I Think: Let's see, blue jeans, cowboy hat, cowboy boots, you're a fucking brain.

I Say: Yes, I do.

He Says (with a nod of the head, a semi-wink and half smile): Ever hear of the song, "Save a horse. Ride a coooow-booooy"?

I Say: Yes.

He Says: Where you from?

I Say: The Mall. With my husband and five children.

***Now let me tell you, the husband part doesn't always work, but the five children part can cool even Clinton's jets.***

He Says: Well that's nice. Real nice. You have a good evening then.

I Say: Thank-you.

A startling discovery!

I was up late Saturday with insomnia so I watched Talk Sex with Dr. Drew. Cuz hell, the bed is empty, why go? Anyway, they had this woman on who had plastic surgery on her vajayjay. Who knew this was done? I must admit, my interest was peaked. It's true. Women all over the country are having plastic surgery on their cooters. Here you can see the before and after pictures of vaginoplasty. Here you can see before and after shots of labiaplasty.

Of course, having had five children, I began to wonder. Is my cooter shot, too? Surely my kitty doesn't look like THOSE...things!

I am pleased as punch to report, that with the help of my handy-dandy hand held mirror, I can confirm that MY kitty doesn't look ANYTHING like those before shots. I have a pretty kitty that looks amazingly like the after shots. That's because I live for keigels. Lucky Bear!

I'm going to bed now. Kisses to you all!

Some friends of Bear's and mine, that we knew in Florida, invited us to a cookout last night. Her parents have a lakehouse just fifteen minutes away. We had fun, ate hot dogs, roasted marshmallows in a bon fire next to the Lake. It was nice to see them again.

I had a dream last night about my Daddy. He's never in my dreams. I wish he were. I dream about him and his things. Last night he had died. There was an office with his things in it were I could go there to see them. I just wanted to see his handwriting. I go in and they were cleaning it out. They had his filing cabinet with his handwritten tags in the slots and the drawers were falling open for me. I reached forward and pressed the lock button to keep the drawers and everything all inside. Then I suddenly realize that I don't have a key to open Daddy's precious filing cabinet. I woke up crying.

Now I have a serious headache.

The observants ones would have already noticed that I've changed my picture. Yes, I have a bit of exhibitionist in me. I'd probably post the really awesome nude shot of me, but Fred might go blind and Bear would be...well...a lot less than happy.

***But I have this most AMAZING shot by the fire place.***

Over 4,000 visits ...

I *AM* loved!!!

Krystal got laid last night!!!

It is indeed time for celebration. We went on last night for two entire uninterrupted hours. See, Bear snuck in and I already had the kids tucked up in bed and they didn't know Daddy was coming. He snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and yessssssss, Daddy was home. And Mommy's REEEEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLL happy!

Make up sex is great, but this we've-been-apart-too-fucking-long sex is just in a class by itself. We're talking multiples here, people. Amazing, wonderful, huge, repetitive multiples.

Yeah, my Bear is home until Wednesday and we have lost time to make up for. Lots and lots of lost time...

Donations of new unused condoms still in their wrappers may be sent to:

Bear and Krystal
#69 Bend Over Drive
Do Me Now, Kentucky 69069

This post is dedicated to The Blog Whore, who appears to have the same mother I do. I say we sends these lyrics on over to our mothers, babe! The name of the song is "Get Over It" and it's by my favorite band, the ~E~A~G~L~E~S...


I turn on the tube and what do I see
A whole lotta people cryin' 'Don't blame me'
They point their crooked little fingers ar everybody else
Spend all their time feelin' sorry for themselves
Victim of this, victim of that
Your momma's too thin; your daddy's too fat

Get over it
Get over it
All this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

You say you haven't been the same since you had your little crash
But you might feel better if I gave you some cash
The more I think about it, Old Billy was right
Let's kill all the lawyers, kill 'em tonight
You don't want to work, you want to live like a king
But the big, bad world doesn't owe you a thing

Get over it
Get over it
If you don't want to play, then you might as well split
Get over it, Get over it

It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You're makin' the most of your losin' streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weak

You drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little ass

Get over it
Get over it
All this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

Get over it
Get over it
It's gotta stop sometime, so why don't you quit
Get over it, get over it

My Morning Wal-Mart Adventure

I had to hit Wal-Mart this morning because I have a couple children with colds and I needed to get some vitamin C and a few other suppliments as well. Things were great. I went through check out, no waiting (way cool). Then I head over to customer service to return a package of card stock (customer service opens at 7:00 so I did my shopping first).

I get in line behind this man who has about twenty various small hardware items to return...from four different receipts. Of course he hasn't sorted which items go with which receipt so the girl behind the counter has to find each and every one. Yeah. Then he wants to purchase two other little things. Then he wants a gift card.

I'm standing behind him these TEN MINUTES with more people gathering and he has a conversation with the girl that goes like this:

Guy: Money transfers from Wal-Mart? How does that work?

Girl: You can have us transfer money from this Wal-Mart to any other Wal-Mart for another person to pick up.

Guy: How convenient. Everyone waits around for a Western Union and not everyone has one.

Girl: Yep.

Guy: So I can come here to shop and send money anywhere then?

Girl: Yes you can.

Guy: And someone else can pick it up?

Girl: Yes

I'm Thinking: No, you have to fly there and pick it up yourself, dumb-ass.

Guy: So, if I wanted to send money to someone in say, Florida, I could do that?

Girl: Yes, you could.

I'm Thinking: Yes, dumb-ass, she said ANY freaking Wal-Mart. That would include such incredibly remote places like Florida as well. Now why don't you ask about other distant places like California, Hawaii and Alaska while the rest of us STAND BEHIND YOU AND WAIT, dumb-ass. We have nothing better to do with our day.

Guy: That's pretty convenient. Thanks!

And he leaves all excited because he can wire money from Wal-Mart. It totally made his day.
I'm so freaking thrilled I can hardly stand it. Now please, just do my one return from my one receipt with three items on it so I CAN GO HOME. Thank-you. Now have an average day.

Well, this Bitch has had enough!

You see, I've asked my children repeatedly not to stomp around upstairs. They were told that the next time they did it they would walk the length of their room 100 times quietly so I don't hear them below. They didn't believe me. This morning they were thudding on the floor so hard that the candle sticks in my bedroom were vibrating. The two younger boys are walking it now. If I hear them and they are on number 99, they have to start over at one.

My second son pissed his pants again last night. Now if I promise a present in the morning or give him a gold dollar, he'll wake up dry 95% of the time. If he goings to get something, he'll wake up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom. But if he isn't getting something, he just pisses and has me do his laundry.

This is unacceptable. He's nearly eleven.

He is now writing five pages front and back, "I will not pee my pants at night." Think it's mean? You come do his frigging laundry and replace the damned carpet. Yes, he has ruined carpet. After he pissed his sheets, he simply moves to the floor. Then he pisses there as well. All because he doesn't want to get his lazy ass out bed at night.

But we are not finished for my morning! ONCE AGAIN, there are clothes and shoes and toys, belonging to the three younger boys, all over their room and bathroom. They also get to write for that. And we have a rule in this house, "if you don't work, you don't eat." Well, they didn't have their work done before breakfast, so the kitchen is now closed. They have to complete their punishments and catch up with school before snack, or they miss that as well. Same goes for lunch, afternoon snack, dinner...

Not that any of this is a surprise to them. I've been telling them this would happen. They've missed dinner before because of their bedroom being a mess. I'm not going to yell any more. I'm tired of asking politely. I'm all out of nice from asking for the same thing over and over again. I sound like a broken record. **I wonder if today's youth know what that phrase means....** Anyway,

This. Is. The. End. Of. It.

My Bear is coming!!!

Which is good because I need someone to take sexy pictures of me for my new icon. I have a few awesome nekid pictures BUT I think that Bear would be pissed and Fred would go blind. Soooo we'll just have to see what we come up with while he's here.

I'm so happy I could pee my pants!

I've been turded.

Yes, Gordy the chicken dropped shit on my light blue sweater while relaxing on my shoulder. 'Nough said.

You Are a Coy Flirt

You may not seem like you're flirting, but you know exactly what you're doing. You draw people in, very calculatingly, without them even knowing. Subtle and understated, you know how to best leverage your sex appeal. A sexy enigma, you easily become an object of obsession.

What Kind of Flirt Are You?

I need a new picture... I'll think about that...

Hey! The Eagles. Hands. Freaking. Down. It always comes down to them. You know, I like Zepplin and Aerosmith (close second man...tough choice), Lynard Skynard and George Thorogood, but I always come back to the Eagles, man. I really like these guys. They're the Eagles! Yeah!

They're truly vercital. They have drinking music, smoking music, sexy stripping music, dirty stripping music, grinder stripper music, music for making love, playful sex or just flat out screwing. You can use it to chill out or to pump yourself up when the juices aren't flowing. When I listen to the Eagles I can feel the music. It's freaking great...

Hey, I know the Eagle's weren't there, but I think I would have enjoyed Woodstock. Hey, Bear! tell me, you think I would have enjoyed it? Wait...Maybe I was there. Maybe I did run around naked in the rain for three days. Maybe I'm having pastlife memory, Babe. That's why I like Yoga and meditation. Could've done free love. I'm damn good at that. All these great memories...and none of them are mine. Oh, hey.

But back to the Eagle's. Awesome. That's why I'm need to order Selected Works: 1972-1999, with the extended LIVE version of "Those Shoes" (you won't be disappointed...I promise), because I can't find those copies of mine and all I have is a little collections CD. Need. More.

And of course with the very close runner up Aerosmith, I must be getting Aerosmith: Greatest Hits for the song "Come Together" because, bear, I have the most amazing dance in mind for this one as well for your arrival in June.

And that's the music I'm dancing to. Let your mind wander away.

I need a microwave.

Actually, the kids have been asking for one. They miss microwave popcorn. I admit, I miss my microwave popcorn, too.

On another note...
I'd like to point out the handy, dandy little blue handicap icon conveniently located next to the letters you're suppose to type in to post a comment. If you click on it the letters will be read to you. It's so blind people can leave comments too...after reading your blog.

Good thinking.

Okay, I'm going to bed. Night.

Hey! I like this guy:

Immigrants Hope to Show Strength With Boycott

"You should send all of the 13 million aliens home, then you take all of the welfare recipients who are taking a free check and make them do those jobs," said Jack Culberson, a retired Army colonel who attended the Pensacola rally. "It's as simple as that."