Our Town Is Famous For....

This guy:

As The King was driving us home from work yesterday he rudely interrupted my phone call to Magillicutty when we happened upon this juic-i-licious specimen of a man at the intersection of St. Augustine and Magnolia. This is not the first time I’ve experienced this beautiful stranger’s lusciousness but each and every time one has the pleasure to gaze upon his splendific physique all rational thought just flies out the window.

At this point I could no longer respond to Magill (which was most likely not a problem as she had taken a couple Valium for a minor surgical procedure and was slurring her words like she’s just had fourteen fillings done and the Novocain hadn’t yet worn off), I could no longer grasp a coherent thought, I could no longer breathe or swallow for fear of taking down that little, tiny bit of vomit that had taken refuge in my mouth.

My mind drew a blank……where was my camera? Could I just hang up on Magill and use my phone to take pictures? What would my mother think if I invited him over for a Fourth of July picnic? SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH…... SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH......what would SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH do?!?!?!? I’ll tell you what SWSLLAJBSDAIDHTNTTH would have done, she would have so hug up on Magill, swung an illegal right-hand turn from the left-hand turn lane crossing in front of three car-filled lanes of traffic to boldly follow this dumpling of a guy and asking him to pose so her picture would most assuredly turn out perfect.

My - God - She’s - Good!

Me?

I just stayed on the phone and mocked my best friend by making shit up and her believing it because she was two sheets to the wind and high as a kite….besides, I knew I could share a video or two without having to utilize the warranty on my camera due to an exploding lens when it focused upon his ass’s gravitational force.

Life's Still Busy

So busy that I started a post three days ago and have yet to finish. The King and I went on a roadtrip and spent the weekend with STSLLAJBSDBIDHTNTTH and I - got - pictures. Look for it soon.

In the mean time, you'll find me........

Hey There Buddy....Whatcha Packin'?

Does your significant other do the same thing mine does? When you ask a simple question, for example “How was your day?”, you get the typical “Fine,” thrown back in your face. I know, I hate that too. I would even love for him to make up a story every once in a while just to bring some excitement into my day.

King Dork returned home on Monday after a long weekend spent in Ohio with family and friends. I asked how his trip was and he responded “I almost missed my flight but you already know that.” Why yes I do considering you called and woke me up at 5:30 a.m. He called to ask me to look on his itinerary to see what airline he was flying. He had gone to the Delta counter but they couldn’t find him. Same thing at the Northwest, Continental, and Southwest airline counters as well. I booted up the handy-dandy laptop, pulled up the e-mailed itinerary, and promptly informed him of his airline, flight time, and flight number.

“Thanks Honey!! Can’t wait to see you!!”

Yesterday King Dork cc’d me on an e-mail he sent to his mom in which he told her about his trials and tribulations of his travel home to Florida from Ohio. He didn’t include all the good stuff when he told me he “almost missed his flight”.…I’ve left most of his message intact:

“Brother” sent a birthday present for you. I wish he would have mailed it since it really caused issues at the security check at the airport. It was ok; I had one heck of an ordeal getting to my plane to come home, though.

First of all I woke up a little late, not real late though, just late. I showered and dressed, got out on the road a little later than I wanted but still had plenty of time. I went to the gas station to fill the rental with gas.

It wouldn't fill.

The darn nozzle kept cutting out anytime a good flow of gas started. I tried multiple positions of the dispenser but nothing worked. So, after literally squeeze squeeze squeeze, I was able to get about 6 gallons into it and then it dawned on me, why don't I try another pump. I went to another pump and sure enough same thing however, this time after fooling with it some, I was able to get a small stream to continuously flow through it. Less than a gallon into it, it started spewing out of the hole you fill. So I turned it off and said the heck with it, it’s full enough... even though I know the tank wasn't full.

I drove to the airport and of course at 5:20 in the morning there’s no one to check the rental car in. So, I turned the keys in at a drop box with the hope they won't overcharge me. I then move on to the airport and arrive at the Delta counter. The auto check-in cannot find my itinerary. I ask about a flight and inadvertently give a wrong departure time, my bad, and of course he replies telling me nothing goes to Atlanta at 6:22. My flight was at 6:10.

So I got to Northwest to see if I am on that flight. NOPE.

Go to Continental, NOPE.

Go to US Air, NOPE.

Did I mention that I never printed out my itinerary? So, I call Marnie and wake her up pleading for help. She boots her computer and finds out it is a Delta flight that I am on... So now its 5:45 and I have a 6:10 flight. YIKES they should be boarding RIGHT NOW!!!!

I run back, ok fast walk for me, to the Delta counter and luckily get one of the ladies to help me. Within minutes I have my boarding pass then ask her if I have enough time to make the flight, she responds with “Yes, you should.” I hurry like a herd of turtles to the security gate and ask the guy there validating your ID to your itinerary if I can go through the VIP line as my flight leaves shortly and I want to make sure I don’t miss it. He said yes since my time was so close so I go through the VIP line, get my bag, laptop, and all of the other stuff I have on the conveyor. I get through and the guy is holding my bag up, “Whose bag is this?”

CRAP!!

I respond stating it’s mine.

“I need to look at something in it,” he says. I don't want to give your present away, but let’s just say what you are getting resembles C-4 explosives, Howitzer casings, large projectiles, rifle grenades and/or anti-tank mines when viewed in the security x-ray machine.

GREAT!!

So the guy asks if he can examine the bag….uhm, can I really say NO? SURE! Go ahead look in there; take a look-see at my dirty underwear and clothing! Go for it!

He finds your birthday present in the box it came in and took it out. Since the box is taped, he hunts for something to open it with....HUNT HUNT HUNT…and I’m thinking “Hey man, I’m in a hurry here, can you speed it up???” I look for my keys but cannot find them. I look for anything to assist but can find nothing because oh wait, I’m in line at security and they have everything I own INCLUDING my dirty underwear. Finally the security guy finds scissors. He opens the box up and proceeds to swab your gift down. “Oh, I need to run this and your carry-on bag through the scanner again.”

GOOD BYE PLANE!!!

So the guy runs everything through the scanner one last time and guess what? Yup, it all checks out now. “Do you want me to wrap your present back up?” he asks.

UHM NO!!! I’ll take care of it, THANKS I think as I politely tell him “No, thank you.”

I quickly throw everything back into the bags and turtle herd it down six gates, three newsstands, and two restaurants to where my gate is. I come around the corner and SAINTS BE PRAISED, the door is still open. SWEET!! So winded I step up and ask if I may board. The lady responded, “Of course you can.” I get on the plane, find my seat, put my stuff away, and say a lucky prayer as I wasn't the last one on the plane. One other guy followed me. So no one can blame me for the plane departing late.

Oh, I forgot to mention that it had snowed most of Sunday and part of Monday so guess what had to be done before we could take off - we had to de-ice the plane!

AWESOME!!

However, once we got into the air the rest of my trip improved. Had enough time to make the connector and was delayed a bit due to fog in Atlanta but we were able to take off and get home just 16 minutes later than scheduled. :) Ok, that got a lot longer than I had anticipated, but I think you will find humor out of it.

Wow…..did you see how much he wrote his mom? No really, did you SEE HOW MUCH HE WROTE HIS MOM?!?!? I think next time I ask him about his day I’ll request the turtle herd version.

I Suck

Things to do today...

Make these:


Look like this:



What they look like right at this very moment:





All together now……Queen Goob SUCKS!

In a pissy mood because we got these shelving units to organize the garage but the instructions were long gone on how to get the damn things together. Now I know, it doesn't look difficult but in order for the damn things to be seven feet tall you have to put two shorter legs together and the little doobie hickies that are supposed to go into the little holes aren't long enough to hook together. Did you guys get that? I have deficient knobbie thingies.....UGH!!! Think if I pound the dad-gum things with my really big rubber mallet it would work?

It sucks trying to be self-sufficient, ya know? I'm off to find The King to get him to help me with this project as well as the twenty-six page Honey Do list I gave him when he move down two months ago.

I love my man.......

Does Anyone Have A Dance Hall Girl Outfit I Can Borrow?

The season of big meals and long naps are finally upon us. The King and I are leaving next week to travel north unto the snow and icy encrusted tundra for to bringeth his life’s possessions unto our kingdom. Yeah, we’re driving the gas-guzzling SUV to his former homestead and bringing the rest of his belongs down to Florida. Or should I have said “all” of his belongings considering he arrive with a suitcase, two small duffle bags, and his laptops. He has a house in Ohio out in the country…..no really, it’s in rural farm country…..but we both feel that any “big ticket” items should not be stored out there for numerous reasons. Therefore, we are renting a big trailer to hitch the behemoth “Gawain” (that’s what I named my Expedition) in order to fill it with The King’s bountiful property and transport it back home. Or what he is now calling home until he decides he can’t take the tedious life here in our small southern town and runs kicking and screaming back to Ohio.

So I bet you guys are asking what kind of “big ticket” items does The King have in Ohio that we don’t want to store in an empty house. Well, as almost all of his antique furnishings were lost in a flood, he is left with the following:

An extensive movie collection (to add to my extensive movie collection which I am very excited about)

An extensive music collection

The rest of his clothing

A desk

A chair

A pool table

Two video arcade games

Lots of Christmas decorations

Now I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but here we have The Queen’s dilemma. I have lived in the same house for roughly eighteen years. I have brought with me, added, taken in, adopted, whatever you want to call it……enough shit to fill two houses and a barn. We live in Florida where the houses do not have basements and rarely have an attic. I have neither. Here is my house:

I am not an architect, interior designer, or decorator so the picture above is the best I can do under those futile circumstances. What I wanted you to notice, however, is that I HAVE NO ROOM!!!!! I have no room for “big ticket” items. So here’s the problem: I need assistance in figuring out where the hell to put a game room. You guys have probably guessed that each room has more than enough furniture (ignore the picture it's not perfectly accurate; there’s plenty in each of the rooms.) If I turn the Florida room into a game room where in the house is it quiet enough for an office and a fold-out couch should we have over-night visitors? The back porch is not closed-in so I don’t want furniture or electrical items out in the humidity or I’ll get electrocuted as I drink my morning coffee and I really do like my straight hair. That weird rectangle to the left of what is suppose to be the bed in the master bedroom is actually a closet so that won’t work. UUGH!

I know we’ll figure it out and it’s important that The King have his own personal space so that he feels at home but…….do you understand where I’m coming from? He’s such a wonderful guy and I want him to feel at home but the only thing I can think of is turning the pool table into a dining room table when not in use and I’m just not really cool with that unless I were able to hang a flashing Budweiser sign from the dining room ceiling. DAMN, I should have bought that one I saw at a garage sale a couple of weeks ago.

Yea, the first thing you see when you walk into the house is the pool hall. Who needs a dining room – we eat in the kitchen! I already have a piano in there for musical entertainment and the party ball may be gone but I have a refillable keg in the garage. Whatcha think? Pool room in the middle of the house? Feel free to make a suggestion or two if you want; I will gladly take any and all under consideration at this point.

I Had No Idea

The King and I spent the weekend running errands and just shopping around. He wants to get a grill now that he can cook outside year round so Saturday morning we went to PetSmart, Home Depot, and Lowe's. I know, PetSmart doesn’t have grills but it was right beside Home Depot and I needed a few things for the fish tanks. I was almost a very bad girl at PetSmart but the King helped me refrain from getting a puppy......even though it was a really, really, cute and sweet puppy that was abandoned at a cabin when he was very small and almost died BUT I was a good girl none-the-less because the rescue group is a “no kill” organization so I knew the not-so-little guy was safe from harm. As we left the store we began our excursion "window shopping" for grills.

I had no idea…

Grill shopping for guys is a totally different experience than it is for girls. Don’t get me wrong, I L.O.V.E. cooking on a grill but I can get the same result from this:

as I can with this:



King wanted this:

Not only was his choice a tad expensive and include a mini refrigerator, but it was a bit cumbersome as well. I had no idea how we would have gotten it home in the SUV….even if we had had a trailer to load it on.

As I watch King position himself in front of this behemoth of a monster-grill, I swear I heard angels singing as he stood dead center of the mammoth component, caressing the surface like that of a young, nubile, virgin sacrifice. He struck a Jesus pose and prayed to the grill-gods of Valhalla. It was a beautiful thing to behold. It brought a tear to my eye just imagining him in nothing but a chef's hat and apron cooking one inch thick porterhouse steaks off the back porch.

Yes siree, it was a beautiful thing!

Mr. Interpretation

Driving back to work after a lunch hour spent together, the King and I noticed a car to our right that had this decal in the back window:



The King asked what the decal symbolized and I stated that the driver was a “girl hunter”.

“Oh, she’s a lesbian,” he stated.

I giggled and said “No….she is a Girl. Hunter.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No,” I repeated “she is a girl that hunts; that’s the logo for Browning.”

“Oh.”

Welcome again, to the world of Redneckaucracy…..

Help Desk Ticket

I went to the cable company’s home office last Thursday to pick up a modem so that I could hook up high-speed internet at the house. It’s a twenty-three minute drive from work so I figured I could haul butt there and back during my lunch break with a couple of minutes to spare due to the fact my middle name is “Racer X”. No such luck; the DMV here is fabulous, not so much the cable company.

After receiving my modem and all required insert technical terms here for cables and stuff, I raced back to the office prepared to hook up the internet at home over the weekend. Thinking ahead and due to the fact I’m a blonde, I called my brother over to assist and guide in the connection of the box to the computer.

He got nothin’.

We drank a couple of beers, tried again, and still got nothin’. At this point I offered my assistance.

Bro went home, grabbed his modem and came back to the homestead; lo and behold thru his box we had high-speed connectivity and proceeded to surf the web. He left, took his box with him with the understanding that I would go BACK to the home office and trade out boxes because obviously I had a defective modem.

Monday I again took my lunch break to turn in the “defective” modem and traded it in on a “working” modem.

Went home last night, hooked it up and guess what!! You got it…

I got nothin’.

After two modems, three phone calls to tech support, and three IT professionals, I called and made an appointment for a cable technician to come to the house and “hook it up properly”. I have a feeling that Cletus may run into difficulties, too.

Should I have King Dork and Brother there for good measure? Yeah, I think so, too.

Mergers and Acquisitions

The merge is complete. Okay, the merge has begun but the move in is complete. The merge will be the easy part. This is what King Dork brought with him when he arrived in Tallahassee. Think I have room in my 1900+ square foot home?

I don’t know; it looks like the merging of our “stuff” may be a tough one. We’re heading to Ohio over the Thanksgiving holiday to bring back the rest of his stuff. He says it should all fit in my SUV. Sounds like we may have to add onto the house to accommodate everything.

And I spent TWO WEEKS CLEANING CRAP OUT OF MY HOUSE FOR THIS?!?!?!?

Looks like I may rake in at the yard sale next weekend!

Enough About The Purge....For Now

I know you guys are tired of hearing me complain about the purging of my household items so I thought I would share with you an e-mail response to King Dork's sister. I received a note from The Beanster this weekend wishing me luck and asking if I was truly ready to have her brother move in with me; this is what I told her:

After much consideration and a few moments of dread, my mind and heart have been set. Yes, I'm ready for this. At first a bit of trepidation arose as I have not lived with a man in fourteen years (I don't think my kids remember living with their dad.) But the fear and anxiety were easily nullified by the fact that my chosen path of study in college has prepared me for this better than life itself. Chapter 8, page 209, of the very first text book I purchased toward a "proper education" covers the removal of bloodstains so that they may not be traced. In addition, Chapter 7 covers all trace evidence and how it is collected and Chapter 16 discusses all aspects of a homicide investigation. I highly recommend Barry A. J. Fisher's Techniques of Crime Scene Investigation for any wife or girlfriend that foresees complications or disagreements in their romantic relationships. (You can find the book used on-line, if need be.) Mr. Fisher has kindly covered all areas of crime scenes and what a technician looks for in order to "catch the bad guy." What we can take from this is to learn what NOT to do when eliminating those things from our lives that trouble us.

That being said, the only thing I’m dealing with right now is panic. I’ve lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Do you KNOW how much stuff a woman can collect in a nineteen year period? Where in heaven’s name am I going to put all that stuff? I asked Bill if he thought he would need more than a drawer for his clothes. He said if he did I could purchase him a cardboard dresser. What a guy, huh?

My sugar-plum, candy-coated, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate bar dreams were shattered long ago. I, too, have a brother. LOL Nah, just kidding, my brother is actually one of my favorite people. Speaking of family, the only thing I see changing in your future are more trips to Florida. Our home is your home; my family is your family……really, they’re yours, take ‘em. I look forward to you and your clan heading down south to thaw out once or twice this winter so we look forward to seeing you guys soon.

I promise to take care of King Dork so don’t worry……Chapter 16 covers a lot. As for the Luck O’ The Irish, let us bow our heads and pray I can hold my liquor.

Love you guys and hope to see ALL of you soon,
Marn

p.s. We’ll have to compare stories of our childhood one of these days and see which ones are worse.

Think she got the picture?

Reality Mode

If you stopped by yesterday you found me in “panic mode”.

This is why…..

Explains a lot, doesn’t it? I told you I had too much shit to go through in a two week period. Purge my ass; more like “just bulldoze the house and start over” mode should have been considered.

This does not include the eight large yard bags that I'd already "disposed" of. I have many happy friends that have inherited all of my shit who will be moaning and complaining about me this weekend when they try and find room to put all of their "new" stuff.

Panic Mode

As most of you may already know, my man and I have been dating for three and a half years. We had a “brief sabbatical” for two months earlier this year but through good communication a key in any relationship we were able to determine our differences were a cumulation of my stubbornness and his temper tantrums. Those days have been exorcised from our lives…..at least for the rest of this year.

For those three and a half years we have lived in the same city for the grand total of thirty five days. Yup, for three and a half years we have lived eight hundred and fifty miles apart. Now for some of you this would be a good distance to keep between you and your loved one. For us, not so much. It puts wear and tear on the car, and wear and tear on our old and decrepit bodies: too much travel.




Yesterday, The Emperor, “King Dork”, turned in his resignation as he found a new job. A new job here in The Armpit of Florida. A job in the same town I live.




Simple mathematics results in the following equation: subtract one emperor from Cow-lubus, add one integration broker to The Armpit, multiply that by a single mom and her teenaged spawn with the sporadic introduction of the multivariable of three older offspring and you get the equivalency of one house full of people at my address.




Enter panic.




I have lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Fifteen of these years with just the kids. Do you people UNDERSTAND how much SHIT I have accumulated over the past nineteen years?!?!? My house was built in the early fifties. There is no closet or storage space. I have shit stuff, crammed, shoved, and poked into every available crevice and hole. There is absolutely no room for his stuff. HOLY SHIT….I have two weeks to clean out a drawer or two for him to throw his underwear and socks when he MOVES IN WITH US.




IN TWO WEEKS!!!!!



UGH!!!!!!



Needless to say I have been a bit busy purging all of the useless and meaningless crap that I have pilfered, saved, accumulated, or inherited over the last few years.



Few……huh, whatever!

I thought I’d share in my humiliating experience of the twelve-step program called “Packrats Anonymous”.

Step thirteen: RELAX!

Back From Vacation

Just back from a vacation in the Rockies with my man; will update as soon as my work is caught up.....and no one is in my office looking over my damn shoulder! Geez, you'd think I had better things to do than get caught up in my blogosphere!

p.s. If I have to spend one more minute listening to our receptionist gag and throw up as she sits at her desk I'm heading up there to bitchslap her and send her ass home. Come on, do you REALLY think that's what I want to hear as I drink my morning coffee?

Welcome back, Marn, welcome back!

Missed Me, Missed Me, Now Ya Gotta Kiss Me!

So I bet the past two weeks with no word from the Marnster has driven all of my regular readers away in disgust. Bitch ain’t got’s the time fer us we outta here. Well let’s see, things to get you guys caught up on:

· Workin’ the Storms

· Judy-Judy with the Bubblegum Bootie’s Surgery

· Sister Sister in Town to Cover My Ass

· Reconciliation With My Man

· Spawn’s Football

· Insurance Coverage for Teenage Boy

· I Love Football

Okay, that about covers the first ten days since I was last here; get the picture of how hectic my life was sans the football? Because come on, everyone has to have a vise or thirteen.

Workin’ the Storms

It sucked. I worked anywhere from twelve to fifteen hours a day. And remember, State Emergency Response covers the entire State of Florida. They get a thunderstorm over Key West and yes, it’s us to the rescue. And can you say it’s been Africa Hot? She’s been spittin’ out storms like a toothless old man with over active mucous membranes standing on the front porch hockin’ loogies at the neighborhood hoodlums. We also offer assistance to neighboring states should they be impacted as well. Guess what? Next big storm they’re gonna deploy me to a staging area instead of “The War Room”. Okay, so that would be cool; I’m not complaining about that.

Judy-Judy with the Bubblegum Bootie’s Surgery

Yes folks, I got pictures. If my mother sees this she will be SOOOOO pissed but then again, she has no internet and the only people I can think of that would tell her I posted a post-op picture of her in all of her glory would be my brother or my sister.

(Judy-Judy doing her impersonation of a morphine addict as my brother, Finnie, provides her with a chaser of vodka. Okay, okay, she'd just awakened from surgery and was thirsty. Note the snicker on my brother's face? Yeah, he spilled a bit of water onto Judy-Judy's boobies but she was still doped up so we didn't tell her.)

Judy-Judy’s surgery went well. She’s up and hobbling around with just a cane. However, for those of you that have never been a caregiver of any kind whatsoever, it’s a tough job. My mom wasn’t even sick and she drove me nuts. She’s lucky I love her as much as I do….and I love her BUNCHES…..but washing her hair for her while she was unable to take a shower proved that Shampoo Girl is not an optional career choice for me should I ever decide to get a new job. I soaked myself, my mother, and her friend Pat The Telephone Junkie in three minutes flat. Thank goodness she finally got her stitches out and can bathe herself.

I won’t tell you about her sponge bath; it even scared me.

Sister-Sister in Town to Cover My Ass

My sister arrived Monday night of this week to take over the care of my mother.

I. Love. My. Sister.



(Remarkable how much she resembles Angelina Jolie, isn’t it?)

Reconciliation With My Man

Way back in June, King Dork and I had a bit of a tiff and after three years of long distance relationship struggles, he called it quits. Nine hundred miles DOES tend to put a strain on a romantic relationship and no being able to see each other as often as we liked, irrational insecurities on both sides attacked our over-active imaginations and BAM…..disaster struck.

BUT, I really, really missed my snuggie-wugg’ms.

I caved.

I contacted him, told him I missed him, he missed me too, we talked about what goobers we both were and SHAZZAM….he showed up at my door for Labor Day weekend. Next week we’re meeting in Denver for the WVU/Colorado game. YEA!!!! Sex, football, beer, and no kids. Can you say “YESSSSSS”?

I’m so glad I called this big, bald, tattooed, lovable guy…..



....besides, he’s a Steelers fan so I have to keep him.

Spawn’s Football

Friday August 29th was my son’s first football game of the season. He is the starting left guard and guess what!

Hold on a minute, I’m a bit emotional and my eyes are tearing up; I can’t see to type.

Okay, thanks for being patient with my sentimental ass.

Spawn received his very first personal foul.

I KNOW!!!! He makes a mother proud. A kid from the opposing team said something derogatory so Spawn lifted him up by the front of his jersey and threw him to the ground. I’m in the stands hold up this sign:



I jump up yelling into the face of the guy sitting next to me DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!? THAT’S MY BOY!!! (Pointing proudly at my offspring)

Then I remembered he plays for a Christian school so I quickly sat back down.

I’d like to think the kid said something ugly about me so Spawn felt the need to kick his ass. He neither confirmed nor denied so leave me with my dream, will ya?

Insurance Coverage for Teenaged Spawn

Speaking of Spawn, I contacted my insurance guy to see how much my insurance would increase by allowing Spawn to finally get his regular driver’s license.

I would increase by 400%.

Spawn’s not getting his license any time soon.

I Love Football

Did anyone else cry at the beginning of football season because they were so glad to see it again? None of my family has ESPN because they’re all a bunch of cheap bastards so party at my house on any given game day.

I am a football whore. I really don’t have much to report on here and don’t ask me to recite stats or tell you where any given player is from (that’s Spawn’s job), just leave me alone if there’s a game on TV because I. Love. Football.

Just remember….if you’re coming over to watch a game, bring beer.


There you have it folks, a busy time was had by all. Sister Sister goes home on Sunday, I leave for Denver on Wednesday BUT I will do my best to come a visit all of my long lost friends this weekend and get caught up.

And by the way, I missed you guys, too!