"Give me the scissors, you hillbilly white bitch, and nobody gets hurt," said Stevie Wonder to Opal, the alcoholic, drunk driving hairdresser.

Yo bitches, sup? Ok, so you aren't bitches. I just trying to keep it real, y'all, as I am watching the Chappelle Show, which I have to admit I think is fucking funny. Yeah, there is still some gross teenage boy in me deep down. Mea culpa.
Anyway, this is just a quickie, as I have to get to bed in 5 minutes, since I am off to Saskatoon tomorrow and must be fresh as a daisy for my meetings.
So, it has been pissing down rain for days now, and as you all know, I love rain and I usually am the happiest when it is raining, but today the weather did nothing but make me crabby and tired. So, thank the sweet Lord that it will be clearing tomorrow night.
As you can see, I have nothing really to say. I am addicted to youtube.com. I've spent hours looking at Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac videos and old commercials. I'm watching " Sweetest Taboo" by Sade right now. I love this fucking song.But damn, bitch looked old as the hills back then and she was what, 25? I also thought her dancing was cool in this video, but she looks sort of like an uncomfortable white guy when you really look at her moves.
But anyway, I have nothing to say, and I need to get to bed, but I will close with a recap of my haircut on Friday. I ran out on my coffee break to get the old noggin a clippin', and I went to this place by my work - let's call it "White Trash Haircutting Inc." I mean, I realize that this place isn't run by Jose Eber or anything, as it is supposedly a discount chain that is basically a small step up from Ultracuts, but still, you expect a certain product no matter where you go. Well, I've been to this place a couple times before because it's close to work, and I mean, 10 years ago I spent 50 bucks on my fucking hair, back when I was getting the old mushroom 'do and streaks and all that fucking fruity-ass shit I used to think was cool, but now I just want someone to shave the everloving shit out of my head and leave me some bangs to scrunch. So I am quite pleased to spend 13 dollars on my hair now. So anyway, each time I've been to White Trash Hillbilly Haven, I've had, well, white trash chicks cutting my hair. I mean no offense by this tag, but it is usually by women with multicolored hair and up-do's and it's not chic, but, well, that white trashy look, like they were drinking all night and stopped at the Husky for some coffee, and then wiped off the blood from last night's fight, and changed their panties from last night's fucking, and chainsmoked a couple rollies and then sauntered into work, ready to tackle a new day with a pot of coffee and some gossip.
OK, that's mean, but you know what I mean. So anyway, when I went in at Xmas, it was a big drama because the manager type woman, the one who looks sort of like Annie Potts in Pretty in Pink, but chubby and with white hair, was on the phone with the big boss in, I dunno, Saskatoon/Calgary/Edmonton/Winnipeg or wherever head office is. So anyway, she's on the phone and telling this guy that so and so ripped off money from the debit machine, and she gets off the phone and starts calling this chick and saying she has to come in for a meeting because so and so said she didn't take the money from the bogus debit slip and on and on, and they are saying this all in front of me.
So on Friday, I walk in, manager lady is on the phone, and I have to wait for the other broad to get back in from having her smoke. So she comes and doesn't say anything while she is cutting and I start listening to this juicy one from manager lady on the phone about how soon there will be nobody but her working there in July because everyone is quitting and she needs the ad placed today, because so and so came in and saw this other chick's purse full of Paul Mitchell product that she stole. So then I am all "hmmm, interesting" so then Lurlene pipes up and asks what I did on the long weekend, to which I said I went to the lake. Well, I should take it as a compliment because she must have thought I was young like her and she goes "did the cops search you?" because there was a booze ban at all campgrounds, and she proceeded to tell me that there were no cops in her town that weekend (Margo, she's from "Conch Creek", you know, west of town, where you got hell for dumping your ashtray at the gas station). So she tells me it was grad in "CanDen" that weekend, and they were going to go but the cops would have been there, and since they were "booze cruising" they didn't want to get stopped. So I am sitting there thinking that I can't believe someone still uses the word booze cruise, and amazed she thought I was young, but then immediately thought "how fucking stupid are you to drink and drive, bitch" which means I have grown up somewhat. But I said nothing, and she told me about how her brother didn't see any cops at the lake he went to either. So that freaked me out because even if I was 19, it isn't right to tell a complete stranger you are "booze cruising". OH, yeah, and they couldn't go to the grad either because so and so, when she got her new "subs" put in her car, they forgot to put the seatbelts back in. What the fuck, is it 1988 again????
SO that was the haircut.
But damn, she did it right, just like I like it, with the number 1 guard and just enough bang to gel and scrunch. SO, to my booze cruisin' Lurlene, kudos. Long may you run. But if I ever see you drinking on the highway, I am getting your ass thrown in jail where it belongs, bitch.
Ok, gotta get to bed. If I have time tomorrow, I will post about my favorite (well, the only one I know, I guess) transexual, and also the kidnapping of a certain friend that was straight out of a sitcom.
Until then, may your hair be cut by someone who doesn't drink and drive. I feel like Stevie Wonder should have popped out of the back and said "give me the scissors.... just give me the scissors".
xo
JT

Could Paula Cole be a Baldwin?

I have nothing to say. Nothing. Fancy that. Of course, I am too stupid to actually go to bed, so here I sit, charging my mp3 player and half-asses watching Project Catwalk. Well, actually, I am waiting for the dryer to finish, because I've got pants in the dryer, and since we don't iron in this house, I have to get them when they are fresh. I have this pair of cords that wrinkle like a motherfucker and need to be attended to as soon as they are done. As well, I have this pair of jeans that I've just washed for the third time because they wrinkle so bad. So, that's really what I am doing.
So Survivor - I am pissy about the whole thing, because while I can't stand Terry, it really ISN'T fair now that he didn't win. Danielle, who was a fucking retard, didn't deserve it, nor did Aras, who annoyed me most of the time. Aren't I stupid? I have a hate on for Terry for the whole season and now I am all "oh, he should win!" And Danielle looked like she was going to cry the whole time, but I mean, she's got 100K, so shut the fuck up. Give me the money, honey, and I'll smile for the cameras. Oh, I just want someone to give me some money..... come on, some one give me some money.
Chunks kept calling Danielle hairy mctitypits or some such thing, but I can't say I really noticed. I don't think she was like Paula Cole or anything. Y'all remember Paula Cole, right, who would deck herself out in some fucking prom dress and then be waving her hairy pits all over the place, trying to make some point or other, and she'd always go on and on about it, and I mean, it's people like that that I just want to bitch slap. You know, if you want hairy arm pits, have at her, sister, but don't be all "I am going to flaunt my hairy armpits as a political statement to reveal that a woman in a ballgown with hairy pits is just as worthy as woman who doesn't have them." I mean, just have them and be done and shut up about it. But nooooo, she had to make a whole stinking deal about having them, and I mean, who wears that much sleeveless shit? And where did it get her? One hit album and some Dawson's Creek theme royalties, and that's about it, isn't it? I appreciate Nena. She had hairy pits, but it wasn't a statement. She was German is all, and that's just what they do apparently. She wasn't in some frigging Vera Wang thing stretching for the cameras. But old Paula, she was shaking those critters like they were roadkill on a skillet. And why.. what is she proving? I have hairy armpits, but I don't show them off. In fact, the only time you'll catch me in a tank top is on a beach. God, can you imagine Paula Cole on a beach? I am sure she'd be a sight to see, because I don't imagine she'd "mow her lawn" before putting on the bikini. S.O.S. indeed.
So speaking of armpits - why is that all these men feel compelled to shave their bodies? Who has the fucking time to groom like that? I mean, I am lucky if I end up shaving my frigging face 3 times a week. I hate shaving, so I always sort of have this unkempt look to me, and I mean, whatever. Ain't gonna catch me ripping out all my body hair to boot. If it grosses you out, don't look at me. So, I will never be a GQ model, but I could fucking show that frigging Paula Cole a thing or two about growing body hair. Bring it on, bitch!
So, that Survivor post sequed into a whole rant, didn't it? Hey, speaking of Survivor again, why did they look so well fed, and so clean? Remember season two where they were all starving and filthy? This year they looked like they had gel (notice Jeff shut them up about doing Aras' hair?) and the clothes were so clean on Ciree and Terry that I was half expecting someone to pop up behind a tree shaking a box of Calgon and saying "Ancient Chinese Secret Huh?" in an accusatory voice to whoever is beating the clothes on a rock. So word to Jeff - we want them hungrier and dirtier, and more twists. Notice that once Terry was winning all the physical challenges, there were no memory games or anything introduced, and the "randomly selected teams" were always favorable for Terry? It's so fixed in a lot of ways.
Big Brother will be all-star this year, and apparently we can vote for who we want back. I want Janelle, and Marsalis, and that Texas princess, and that slutty bitch, Chudly or whatever her name was, you know who I mean... Sierra? Cleara? Oh, and that stupid fat guy from season one, when they were all ugly. LOL, remember what a motley group that was? Normal people. I want more normal people. Oh, and I want the black woman back, who was in the final two that one year, but they didn't give her the game, but not that bitchy Asian woman. Or that stupid whatshisname who won that time. Oh, and those gross twins would be good for a laugh.
Ok, enough of that. It's so hot here, almost 30 tomorrow, so I should get the garden ready for planting I guess. We just have two garden boxes, and I think I'll do the usual beets, carrots, peas, lettuce, dill, cukes, and beans, and also try some turnips this year. I do onions and radishes in these little planters, and I tried spinach last year, but it didn't come up, and my lettuce got eaten by frigging bugs two years in a row.
Anyway, I really have nothing to report, so I think I'll sign off now and catch up with my blogs.
Have a great Tuesday - wish it was the weekend already.....
JT

YO YO YO

No time to blog tonight, just sayin' hey is all.... I am lying on the bed with the laptop situated on my lap, so I am sure that I am making my own form of birth control with all the radiation seeping down to the boys. It's like depo provera for cheap Ukrainian men!
Anyhooooo, it's been a hectic week. The highlight is my oldest baby turned 5 on Thurday, and so we prepared for that, and then we had her party tonight, so it's been days of cleaning, cooking, organizing, and now - the cleanup. Thus, no long entry like usual. I was going to blog a long one about the Whore who I quite often refer to, but she's too complicated to get into right now. You need hours for that.
I keep hearing some teenagers outside somewhere, but I can't pinpoint where they actually are - I so am one of those crusty old buggers now, you know. But if they think they will be drinking and carousing outside on my watch, they've got another thing coming.
Anyway, gonna go investigate where these fuckers are.
By the way, I bought seasons one and two of the Facts of Life this week - haven't watched it yet, and since tomorrow is Survivor, won't happen then either.
Ok, some chick is really loud out there - gonna go roll some heads.
Have a good one, and here's hoping Ciree got the fucking fire started.
JT

Holy lick, it's been a while since I've blogged. Wow, did I just say "holy lick"? Man, it sounds like I should bring out the acid wash. Hey Margo, do you remember the acid wash jacket I had, that had the pocket on the back and the sort of striped collar? I think I wore it when I got my barcard picture taken - do you remember that day, my 19th birthday? The mullet was especially spiffy and fuzzy that day, if I do remember correctly. Ah, good times....
Well, it's been a busy couple of weeks, and I the rest of this week will be brutal, but whatever. Just thought I would post a few misc. rambles that I've been thinking about. So, does anyone remember the days when McDonalds was honest-to-God FAST? As in, you got your food right away? I am not even talking about the good old days, when the food came in those nice styrofoam containers and they cooked it up constantly and threw it out after 20 mins. No, I am talking ab0ut not that long ago, when you would go to McDonalds and place the order and they'd give you the food and voila. Well, I don't know if it is other McDonalds, or just the ones in this town, but they are slower than fucking molasses. Example: Tonight, we thought we'd get take out since it's one of those weeks (I'll explain later) and we are super busy. So, finally at about 7 we decide to order some Vietnamese stuff for us from this little place that closes at 8, and grab McDonalds for the kids. WELL. I call the Vietnamese place, place the order, and go to pick it up. Kelly and Kristen come with me because they wanted to go for a ride, and I stop at the bank and then go to the McDonalds by the bank. Well, forgive my language, but I was so fucking mad by the time I was through there. The line up in the drive thru wasn't even that bad, maybe 4 or 5 cars ahead of me, but nothing is moving. Nothing. I figure out it was 13 minutes in line before I got to the window, because I listened to "Love Plus One" by Haircut One Hundred twice, and some other song I can't remember the name of once, and I added up the minutes. So by this point, I am grouchy, but I get to the window expecting a "sorry sir for the wait" spiel, but nada. Instead I am greeted by this KID who is so fucking young I am sure he doesn't even have any frigging pubic hair yet, so why they can even hire him, I don't know, since he should be home studying for the spelling bee and playing with his transformers or whatever the hell it is preteen boys play with nowadays. But alas, I place my order and he doesn't even ask me what kind of sauce I need for the nuggets. I was about to crawl through the window and pull some kind of Susan Powter "Stop the Insanity!" bullshit and throw him in the fryolator, and then whip big mac patties into the crowd and yell "free Tibet" or something. But I didn't. So after we get through there, the kids have to pee in the worst way, but I have to hightail it so the frigging Vietnamese place doesn't close before I get my food. So like, fucking McDonalds is all I have to say. Might as well go to A & W, because it doesn' take any longer now.
Oh, and don't get me started on Tim Hortons. Granted, all the Tims here are always lined up to hell's half acre, but the service is just so frigging crazy. Now, let me just say this: I know it would be brutal to work there. It really would. And I honor them all for working there, since it's so high pressure, especially in this town where people seem to mainline their coffee. Moreover, word on the street is the guy who owns three of them is really hard to work for and he can't keep employees, so he often hires the unemployable, and what I mean by that is people who haven't had jobs before, or for a long time, or whatever. So everyone is always "In Training" and it takes forever to get your stuff. Now, that is fine since they are learning, but then it never makes any sense, because poor little Wilda (I am not making her name up) has been working there for ages and she still hasn't been upgraded to a new nametag. So then today, the drive thru wasn't moving, so I parked, ran in, and while it was lined up to the doors, old Wilda didn't seem to care, and proceeded to mop the floor. However, she kept bellowing "watch out for the mop handle! I'm mopping the floor!" so all of us in line are dodging Wilda and her enthusiastic mopping. So I finally get to place my order with a really nice new woman who is in training and they have this set up finally at the one I go to where you order coffee and pick it up on the side (the opposite way from where you pick up your food). So, I move to the pick up spot, and fucking Wilda is all "Excuse me, excuse me!" and makes me move so she can mop. WTF? So then the server goes "whoa, bossy today Wilda!" and they laugh, but I wanted to say "put down that fucking mop until I get my coffee Wilda". Honest to God, she made me feel like I was some sort of inconvenience, and it was a big favor on Bev's part to serve me during floor washing season. I don't know if she has roll up the rim rage or what, but I was ready to just shove the fucking roll up the rim BBQ sitting in the middle of the store up her ass by the time I got out of there.
Anyway, nothing else to really say. There is this odd woman who is always walking down our street, and it's so weird. She's obviously walking for exercise, since she's tromping along with such purpose, but it is so weird - she walks like hours a day. Rach sees her in the day all the time and I see her after work and it's always the same thing: She's gussied to the nines with this freakish kinked/curled blond hair that looks like Shirley Temple's in a way, and it's all coiffed and bleached and shit, so it looks like she's spent a million hours doing it. And she's got her ipod and sandals (not running shoes) and she walks our street - not in a hooker sense, but in an "I am walking for my health" sense. The weird-ass thing is multifold - first, since she can't really be working, since she's always walking, how does she afford to maintain the hair? Second, why this street? She must live around here, but this is wacky - sure, we live on a really long street, but right behind us is the riverbank. I can see it from my deck - literally one street behind me and voila, there is a riverbank park with a beautiful walking trail that goes just as long as my street, but with no traffic, and all the scenery. There is an access path right next door to me to the riverbank. But yet curly Sue just walks on the boring old street. So what do you think? She must be mental, right?
Ok, another bugaboo - there was this commerical for Subway tonight about how they are supporting the Special Olympics, and that fucking Jared (who, as Homer Simpson so eloquently said, "is that guy who used to be fat but now is just ugly) was there rambling about how they are giving this money for Special O - but I was mad because Jared walks into this gym where these guys are playing some b-ball, but they PURPOSELY sort of blur the guys and then they only focus in on them AFTER Jared hands out the fucking subs and they are filling their faces. All you see are these eyes and a face filled with sandwich. Then, they pan out and where you'd see them all in the gym, you instead see this big blue banner across the screen that covers their faces, and it says "Subway supports the Special O" or something. So, they support special O, but they refuse to show retarded people's faces so they won't offend. I can see it now in the commercial pitch: "we don't want to unsettle the folks and remind them their chromosomes can bugger up, so let's stuff their different facial features with subs and a banner!" Well, I am insulted for everyone who supports Special O, because it is a slap in the face (the faceless face) for these people. Ok, I am off the soap box.
So I had a stupid dream this morning before I woke up. I was in West Edmonton mall, and I was walking with Clara, who I mentioned once before on here. Well, Clara in real life is quite sick, as her kidneys failed and she is on dialysis 3x a week. Well, we were walking and she's a tall drink of water, mind you, and I was going to change into my bathing suit for the Waterpark, and she was following me into the change room and I said "Clara, you are in the wrong room" and then I looked up at her, and suddenly realized that Clara had a sex change. Well, she was wearing these wranglers (She's always in them in real life) but had on this belt buckle and big old hat and she told me "Yeah, I saw this special on Teena Brandon and well, I knew I should be a man too" and had the operation. SO I said "Clara, what does Dean think" because Dean is her boyfriend, and he/she said "Oh, he's plenty pissed off at me" and I thinking "well no shit Sherlock, because you've got a fucking PENIS now, you moron" and then we run into this other friend of hers who fills me in on the sideline saying "she really regrets doing it now because she really thinks she's a woman now" and so I said "well, just get it cut off" and she was all "well, I got my ovaries out, so then I'd be on hormones anyway". But I kept thinking ovaries or no ovaries, you don't make a convincing man, so go back. So I woke up laughing my ass off to that one.
This sort of reminds me of when we all found out that Melissa Etheridge was a lesbian. I was really shocked by it, and it sort of makes me not be able to listen to the songs on the first album quite the same. I remember finding out and telling Margo, who wasn't out then, and we were all "Wtf?" because we loved that album, and she was just so gutsy and obsessive on those songs, and sorta crazy, and I loved it because I could relate to that doomed "you don't love me" shit she was always singing about, but I always pictured her as a motorcycle mama, singing about some biker dude, and obsessively following him around - like that one (I can't remember the names of the songs now) where she's going "you can throw me down another cigarette, I smoked my last one an hour ago" and I just picture her in front of some stoop in Little Italy, stalking some dude named Carmine with a big rag on his head. Or when she sings "Like the Way I do" and does that "tell me does she love you like the way I love you, does she stimulate you, attract and captivate you, does she miss you, existing just to kiss you, like the way I do" part, and she screams it, I just thought she was singing it about her Carmine. I would always belt out that one from the bottom of my gut, but whereas I would imaging singing it to a woman, I just didn't figure she was too. So, whereas her other albums I just picture her singing about a woman, the first one just freaks me out that way. Strangely, the George Micheal "I Want Your Sex" thing didn't change who I pictured he was singing it about once he was caught wagging his weenie to the cop or whatever the hell that was, because I don't care, I will always just associate that song with him and that Asian woman, who looked so creepy with that blonde hair. Maybe because she looked bossy and wouldn't give him her sex without him begging, but you are convinced that he really wants her sex, and you just want to shout "give it up bitch, so he'll shut the hell up". Does this make any sense? Because really, she looks so frigging cold in that video, and he's just all "c'mon, baby" and it's like this is the second part of "Everything She Wants". But I am rambling and I probably don't make any sense.
Hey Margo, remember singing that song in the whore's Charger, driving out to see your boyfriend in Birch Hills, and me and the whore were singing "sex is best when it's 3 on 1" or "sex is best when it's 10 on 4" and all that stuff, and you were getting so mad that we were ruining the song? You sure didn't like that one.
Remember also when you always used to listen to something - was it Total Eclipse of the Heart - when you were drinking and we got so sick of it we took the record, the whore and I, and broke it into a million pieces when we were drunk and her mom cut her foot on the pieces and you got yelled at? Good times..... sorry about that, by the way, as you never broke "Making Plans for Nigel" by XTC or "If I'd Been the One" by .38 Special, which I always had to listen to when we drank in the whore's skanky basement. Wait, I am not sorry, because you always used to make us listen to Tanya Tucker over and over and I hated that more than anything. And you guys thought it was so funny when you changed the words to Jamestown Ferry ("he just caught the jamestown ferry, it was a hot day in january, like he said it would be if he'd ever left me") to "he just caught his dick in his zipper...." yeah, that was funny.
ok, going to bed now, sorry be ranting.
the golden globes are now over, y'all y'all yall.

SISTERHOOD IS GLOBAL - MORE ABOUT MY FRIEND MARGO

Sorry, but this is for my dear old friend, Margo. She posted the following things about herself, and I need to comment on some of them to elaborate and it's easier to cut and paste it here instead of commenting on it on her blog. She wrote:
The World Accorinding to Margo
1. I come from a broken home. Parents divorced when I was in grade 2
--- Yes, she did, but it actually is a good thing, because otherwise she would never have moved here to live with her dad and we'd never have met. Also, it's good because then her dad has had a bevy of women that have been odd enough to provide us with fodder for years to laugh about. Consider Audra, who was going to marry him, but luckily never did. Audra was a looker, no doubt about it, but she was a wino and really fucking cheap. And strange. She always tried to be hoity-toity, and she might have pulled it off, but the strange family of hers always got in the way. She had one daughter who was born again, and a son who was a good time charlie who loved his dope and his sleeping around, and another daughter who... I dunno, who was just.. well... sorta trampy, but what I mean by that, I don't know. Anyway, some examples of the zany nature of Audra's house - She invited us to this dinner party and it was just her family, Margo and her dad, and me, but it was some big affair, but of course we all got into the wine, and considering the alocholic tendencies of many in the room, we were all three sheets to the wind before the first course. Well, Margo was trying to pretend we were dating for some reason, so that was funny, and then Audra had all these fucking candles burning so I was doing my pissed "oh, isn't this fascinating" thing because I am one of those good time drunks, so I say something about how frigging wonderful her candle holders are and she went on about how they represented the 12 apostles or whatever, and I was nodding my head like I had any idea what in hell she was talking about. Or, let's not forget the other time, when we were having a farewell dinner for Margo's daddy before he took this little trip and somehow Audra invites her whole family and we all go for Chinese food and of course, we all get stinking drunk, and I remember Margo mixing the last of the white wine and the red wine and saying "look, Rosee!" and laughing like a maniac. But the best part was the daughter, let's call her Sheeba, and Audra telling us this story of these people who have no arms who train snakes and tie them around their waists so they can turn on faucets. I did my usual drunk "wow, that is so interesting!" thing, but, well, we mocked that thing until the cows came home. Good times. SO yes, thank goodness Lance and Sheena divorced so Margo and I could meet Audra and have some laughs. I won't even talk about Mary, Margo.

Margo also writes: 4. Lived next to a Elvis fanatic in a Brooks trailer park for a year who drank a flat of pepsi a day and used to hit on my dad on a daily basis. -- This woman loved her dad, and would crawl under the car with him while he worked on it, and drink her pop, and would tell young Margo, "Elvis is the king, and Diana Ross is the queen!" and Margo would tell me that story, invariably when we were stoned, and it never failed to send me into hysterics to the point where I'd have to leave the room.

Margo also writes: 5. Was a major tom boy as a kid, had a killer GI Joe collection that if I owned it today would be worth a mint on Ebay,
-- She also had a crush on the blonde from Abba as a kid, but never made the connection to that and her sexual orientation for another 20 years. God love you, honey.

Margo also says: 6. My favorite things as a kid were my blue jeans, my rubber boots and chewing on LP's in the stereo cabinet.
--- As a teenager, she also loved her blazer, and she was in LOVE with this gross guy who was an exchange student from... where the fuck was he from... I think Sweden, and she fell in love with him the first day she saw him and she kept talking about "the cool guy with green shoes." He wore these freaky ass elf shoes ,and she was all smitten, for the whole year, but quite frankly, he was strange and boring, and would order coffee and then add sanka to make it stronger. We got him to her house a couple times and I think she made out with him, but he had a girlfriend the whole year which we didn't even know about, and it turns out it was Rachel's best friend. Rachel thought he was a loser.
But anyway, Rochelle, wear some ugly ass green shoes, chew some coffee grounds, and talk in a Swedish accent, and she'll be humming like a southern lightpost.

Margo also said: 7. Had the mumps, the measles and the chicken pox all in the same sad year in '75.
-- She also was hit by a bus I think she either said, or I made that up, I can't remember.

Margo notes: 8. Am slightly, ok Very neurotic about mundane things.
--- I remember 9/11 - she calls me at work, and not a hello or anything, just a frantic "I have no canned goods." Me: "HUH?" MARGO: "I have no canned goods. There will be war and I have no canned goods." God love you, honey.

She also said: 10. Don't like shopping at all. Costco and Walmart are the worst since I hate crowds.
--- We have bonded after admitting our panic disorders to each other. She panicked in line buying dog food all the time, so I told her to do what I read that some guy did who freaked out in crowds. He carried a bucket of worms with him and when he felt panicky he'd throw the worms into an aisle at the store and yell "Worms!" and then the attention was off him. However, she didn't actually do it, I don't think.

She also did this: 11. I bought the Vanna White tooth whitening kit off of an infomercial one nite after coming home drunk from the bar. Then returned it.
--- She also bought the ROlling Stone boxed set the same night I think. Returned it too.

This also happened to the poor dear:
14. I have a propensity to being attacked by strange people. For example I got choke by a drunk first nations lady in a bar b/c her b/f was talking to me..
--- There were 2 bars next door to each other. I was at one with my sister, brother in law, and their friends, Margo was all drunk and going back and forth. She was really drunk, to the point of being annoying because she was slurring so bad, and I was trying to have some deep convo with my sister, and Margo stumbles back into the bar where I was and said "I just got choked... I got choked" and I was all, "oh yeah, choked, whatever, shut up, we're talking" and she kept saying "I got choked...fucking choked" and I thought nothing of it until I got this phone call the next day from Clara, who told me her brother was in the other bar and watched the choking. He said it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. You see, this pimp looking dude took a shining to Margo, and since he was buying, she was all "coolio" and letting him buy her beer. Well, he had this woman who noticed this and glared at our girl and told the guy off and he was all "she's nothing" and kept buying Margo beer. Well, she drinks up and then ditches him and tries to come back to see me, but as she was walking towards the door, in this drunken stupor walk she does, Clara's brother said you see this chick pop out of nowhere and see these hands reach out in slow motion and go around her neck, and then Margo gets this shocked look, and then the bouncers are on the woman and Margo walks back and tells me the story. So sorry honey, I'll listen to you better next time. She also got attacked in a truck by a hillbilly, but I'll save that one for tomorrow - too long to type.
One of her hidden talents is as follows: 16. I can do a mean Jerry impression off of the Facts Of Life. You remember Jerry, she was Blairs cousin comedian who had cerebral palsy or something.. I can also imitate the elephant Man. --- she really does the Gerri thing well. It's inappropriate though.
She also admits to being this: 17. I am a hypochondriac.. I am constantly thinking I am dying of something. Have a great fear of getting the red line of death.
One time, the dentist saw some white mark in her mouth and told her to get it checked out and she immediately thought cancer, and spent the whole weekend thinking "life sure was good before I had the cancer." So yeah, this is really true - so quit the fucking smoking, Joni.
She also is: 19. I am a sista, but don't wear rainbows or chant 'Sisterhood is Global!!' from the rooftops...
We were in a bookstore one time and she picks up this huge frigging book called Sisterhood is Global and she said she always wanted to be one of those smart hippy looking chicks who sit reading these big political books in the park and she picks it up and shakes it and yells "sisterhood is global" and it became our running joke that's lasted a good 10 years.
Oh, and when she told me she was a sister, it was so funny, but I'll post that some other time.
Anyway, that is my comments to her post. God love ya Margo. Oh, and I had a good 1/2 hour conversation with Dirtnut today, and we caught up on everyone and everything, and he asked about you.
Anyway, gotta go to bed. Brutal ass fucking week, can't wait until the weekend.
xo
JT