Fluency

While I am quite fluent in English, having spoken it all my life, I consider my native tongue to be Douchebag. Douchebag is a lot like English yet far more profane. Even when the preface douchebag is unuttered it is implied and at work it seldom remains unuttered these days.

My career in profanity began at the ripe old age at 5, when at the supper table, I asked my grandfather to pass the motherfucking ketchup. Not realizing at the time that it was the granddaddy of all profanity, of course. The mothership and fathership carefully explained to me that this was not acceptable language for a young lady to use. I've seldom gone a day without using some variation on it since.

Oh Fuckity Doo Dah

I tend to like thinking of myself as an astute sort, and I know full damn well that the descaling and cleaning of the coffee pot should be done with white vinegar. Alas, Rachel Ray, I ain't so there was none in the house and I thought red wine vinegar with a couple of extra rinses would be fine. And it probably would have been but I used red wine vinegar with garlic. If hell had a flavor, viennese with cinnamon coffee, red wine vinegar, garlic, half and half and honey would about cover it. It will likely be branded Satan's flavor of the month.

Toenails

The cats actively resist any kind of toe nail maintenance so I usually content myself with clipping 1 or 2 nails at a time whilst the cat in question is perched on my lap for general adoration and such. Today, I got all 20 of Puppy D's toes. This is most unusual, I've not ever gotten all 20 of hers in one session before. Not sure if it's because she's getting older and slightly less spry or because of the position I had her in. Hmmmm. Will have to try a similar position on the spry birthday boy. The Sharkbutt is 3 today. He still doesn't look like a grown up cat, looks pretty kitteny, he does.

Land of the half assed fuck wit

Often in the arcane and inane world of gubmint, decisions are made with such a collossal lack of judgement or even obvious thought that the stupidity demonstrated is almost mystical. Yes, there is a level of stupid that is so stupid it is transcendant and mystical. A perfect storm of stupid, born of arrogance, ignorance and an absolute inability to consider that someone who spends most of her day close to the action and actually managing the action might know better.

I've long maintained that an employer does not really have the ability to make someone care about their job. Go through the motions in order to get paid, sure. But care, really care, nope. But they can make you stop caring. I have begun to approach that point and it ain't pretty.

I've learned to accept a certain level of stupidity and ignorance but once that level is exceeded, my usual levels of relative equanimity fade away and I morph into the crazed loon that I was before I attained the wisdom of 40 and Buddha camp. That crazed loon can actually use 15 or more variations on the word fuck in one 18 word sentence. That crazed loon will also commence the rant by issuing the suggestion to pull one's head out of one's ass preferably one ear at a time to facilitate a less painful and hopefully swifter evacuation of the rectum. A certain amount of raving pertinent to the subject at hand and to close with the always articulate fuck 'em the fucking idiot fuck. After all that energy has been expelled, I give far less of a fuck than I did before and that's the bad news. If I disengage my attention from what I do it won't be pretty. But could be funny. Stay tuned.

Observation 2

I'm what some folks call a person of size, but my current physician and I concur that I'm fat and not getting any damned younger. So as it has been a work in progress for quite some time, I've been engaging my inner gym rat. I notice that compared to some of the 'skinny' folk at the gym my fat is hard. This makes me smirk. A lot.

Observation

By way of deep background, I don't engage in a lot of mirror time, never did much of it, don't do much of it now, as a rule. So that I happened to engage in some mug beating this morning is a bit unusual. And mostly it had something to do with getting moisturizer out of my eye. I noticed more lines around my eyes than I used to have and I have to say I kind of like them, though I'm not quite sure why. I think it might have something to do with my sister always having said "I know you're full of shit, your eyes are smiling." So the lines put me in mind that my eyes have been doing a good bit of smiling of late and that's not always been my way.

And God isn't that the biggest glass half full pile of mess I've ever managed to write?

What I Bring to The Party

A friend asked me what I thought I brought to the friendship, once upon a time. It was a question that gave me pause for a good while. Until it occurred to me the big thing that I bring to the party is that I know I'm crazy. And I try not to make excuses for it and I try really hard to give my friends room for their own brand of crazy. And it's all good.