Monthly Archives: May 2012

Coloring Days Are Gone. But Sleepin’ Season Is Over, So There’s That.

Internets, my life is changing.  I went and got myself a goddamn promotion at work.  I’m gonna have my name on a door and everything.  And that’s pretty much when  you know you’ve made it in life.  When someone takes a piece of plastic and etches your name on it and slides it in to the place where someone else’s  name was, you’ve arrived.  It’s plastic.  With your name on it!

Anyways, I think we all know what this means;  I have to start getting all serious and shit (at work that is) and that includes not coloring.  At work. Which I totally do and apparently you get rewarded for that kind of behavior. (I just typed color with a ‘U’.  Clearly I live too close to Canada)  This also means that I need to stop using the company computer for writing my blog and reading your awesome blogs.  You guys, I’m going to miss that the most. But I WILL still be reading your shit.  Believe that.

This is where you picture my sad face.

This is also where I explain how I write.

Sometimes I have a great idea for a post but no time to  do it.  Then when I do have the time, my enthusiasm for the post is gone.  And sometimes I have all the time in the world to write but I’m just not “feelin’ it” and the moment passes.  And sometimes there is a box of wine in front of me and I forget that I even have a blog.

What I’m trying to say is that a perfect storm has to happen for me to write something for this blog.  I don’t want to write half-assed shit here just for the sake of writing something.  I know my posts aren’t profound or mind-blowing but goddamnit  I want them to be written to reflect me and my foul mouthed, skewed, unique look on my crazy life.  You get me, Internets? YOU GET ME???

Also, sleepin’ season is over here in the Pacific Northwest and the sun has shown itself and might just stick around. (that fucker better stick around) Which means that when “The Perfect Storm” for writing happens, I might just want to enjoy time with my husband and The Murphy…you know…out-fucking-side and shit.

I’m not leaving or anything.  Oh no, motherfuckers.  I’m in this blog shit for the long haul. And with that I don’t know whether to wait for your applause or to send you a fruit basket as an apology.  And $20.  And some prescription meds.  And booze.

And for those of you that think I was joking about coloring at work….

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If the cleaning lady brings me a box of fucking crayons at work I’m coloring.  And then it’s not my fault.  It’s hers.

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To avoid questions about my coloring at work activities I put it next to a drawing that my niece did for me. Cover your ass, people. Cover yo’ ass.

Cheers ~ SF

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The Time I Bought Heroin Candles. Or Maybe They Were Meth Candles. I Don’t Know Because They Weren’t Labeled

A tea-lite candle. Innocent as can be with that clear PLASTIC holder.

A few months ago I was shopping for some household necessities at the K-Mart.  Don’t judge me for that.  I live in the fucking city and all the classy stores like Wal-Mart are in the ‘burbs and nowhere NEAR a liquor store.  So I shop at the K-Mart that is a ten-minute drive from my house and it’s right next to the PetSmart and since I own an Irish Wolfhound that consumes 700 pounds of food each week, it works for me.  I just realized why Twitter keeps suggesting @KmartFashion for me to follow.

What the fuck was I talking about?  Oh yeah.  Heroin candles.  So I’m buying my bathroom cleaner and ant traps and I pass the candle aisle and goddammit if their isn’t a shit-ton of scented goodness on clearance. So I rifle through  the discounted items and pick out one of those thingers that you put a candle in the bottom and some scented wax cubes on top and the flame heats the wax and…you know what I’m talking about right?  OK.  So I buy the candle wax heater thing and I’m on my way.  But when I get home I realize that I bought the scented cubes but I’ve failed to buy the wee candles that you put in the bottom to heat the wax above.  Since I’ve already been to so many stores and the last one was a liquor store there was no way I was going back for some fucking tea-lites for something that was just bought to hide the stench in my house that is caused by our pets, the rotting zucchini in the crisper drawer and the dirty laundry that I keep putting off washing.  Wait, what? I mean I bought that stuff to create a pleasant and relaxing mood in my home.

See? One of these. Except I would never buy that color of wax because it looks like it smells terrible.

A few days later I was in the little convenience store (or convience store if you go by their sign) right by my house that is located “conviently” on my walk home from the bus.  This place sells your average things like beer, wine, cigarettes and your run of the mill snack shit. They also sell things like Michael Jackson posters, socks, male enhancement drugs and a wide variety of glass “tobacco smoking devices” if you catch my drift and I know you do, Internets.

This particular day I was just in to buy a pack of smokes because we were full up on Horny Goat Weed and ExtenZ  but then I noticed a plastic container on the counter full of tea-lite candles.  How fortunate for me!  No need to make a second trip to the K-Mart that would most certainly fuck with my cocktail hour.

Excitedly, I said to Ben-whose-name-is-most-definately-not-Ben, “Oh!  I need these candles!  How much are they?”

He replied that they were like 5 cents a piece or something.  It was probably more like 4 for a dollar but I really didn’t care.  They didn’t look of the highest quality with their thin metal holders but they were candles that I needed and these didn’t require a second trip to the land of glamour that is K-Mart.

I get home, promptly kick off my heels, shed my work attire and don my cozy pants and a sweatshirt.  The candles are dug out of my purse and one is put in to the candle wax heater.   I fix a drink and get right to settling in for an alone night with some scenty goodness, several cocktails and the TV remote all to my goddamn self because Bruce is at band practice. And if Bruce is at band practice on a Monday night you know my ass is watching some Intervention on the A&E.  (seriously though, how is that show still tricking people?)

And that’s when I realized that I didn’t buy innocent tea-lites for my innocent wax melter.

See??? Except when you live on the streets you don’t always have fancy things like spoons so, as it was shown on TV, you just take the candle out and use the METAL holder to cook your dreams away.

I felt a little weird going back in to that shop for a while.

Cheers ~ SF


Bear With Me or OMFG-Don’t-Give-Up-On-Me!!!!

So my writing space is all set up and now it has a new computer.  A very different computer, Internets.  I got a Mac.  And it hates me.  Even though I love it.  It’s just soooo fucking different, you guys.  I managed to muddle my way through posting some new photos on Worth 100 that are 11 million Megabytes (whatever those are)  because I don’t know how to resize photos on this crazy awesome machine yet.  But as far as my plans to revamp this corner of the Interwebs, I’m gonna need some more time.  And vodka.  And Lithium.  I also, as Laura would say, got neck rabies.  Or spider bites.  One or the other.

Hobo Spiders. What do they want with me???

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But it does have a fun photo booth feature that I discovered because I like to get after the serious workings of a computer straight away.

ALIEN ME!!!

So, does anyone have any Mac tips they can send me?  Like why “copy/paste” is such a fucking ordeal on this thing?  Or you can send vodka and Excedrin in lieu of Mac tips.  Whichever.

Cheers ~ SF