Meet T.P.

Okay, tonight I'm going to write about something that does *not* annoy me! Meet "T.P." our loveable, 1400 pound 16.2 hand teddy bear, Tennessee Walking Horse Stallion! "T.P.'s" real name is "Power's Touch of Power" so you can see why we call him "T.P." Sometimes I call him "Clunker" (And I mean that in a totally affectionate manner.)

We bought T.P. from a wonderful couple in Mississippi by the name of Bob & Tommie Weathers. These people were about the nicest and most honest horse people I have ever dealt with. They promised us we would be happy with T.P. and we are not only happy, we are thrilled!

"T.P." is a perfect gentleman at all times. We trail ride him with other mares and stallions, we pony youngsters off of him, we show him out of the trailer at shows where we tie him next to our other stallion and there is NEVER a fuss. "T.P." is the perfect southern gentleman at all times.

He has been doing very well for us in the show ring and hopefully we will soon be standing him at stud to other outside mares. The horse has a hilarious personality. He is not too fond of being saddled as it usually means a long trail ride is to follow. Oh, he isn't hard to saddle at all, he basically just stands there as long as you are watching him. But if he thinks for a minute you aren't paying attention.....

Well today for example, I trailer him over to a friends to go for a trail ride. I toss the saddle on and go to cinch it only to realize I had used it on a smaller horse the day before and had changed the cinch to one that was too small for "T.P." No problem, I have another "T.P." sized cinch in the trailer. I remove the small cinch and leaving the saddle on his back turn to go back to the trailer to retrieve the longer cinch. I couldn't have gone more than 3 steps and I hear a very loud "WHUMP"! I turn back and there stands "T.P." with the saddle at his feet with this wide-eyed look of innocence on his face as if to say...."Gee mom, I really don't know how that happened"..."It must have just fallen off."

I stomp back to the innocent looking stallion, grab the pads off the ground, replace them on his back and toss the saddle back up where it belongs and turn back to the trailer to retrieve the longer cinch. Again after three steps I hear "WHUMP!" I turn to see the saddle on the ground again but this time it has landed at his front feet and he is desperately holding up one front leg, trying *not* to step on the saddle, as he knows 'then' he would really be in trouble! Again, he has this innocent look on his face as if to say..."But Mom, it just keeps jumping off! I can't help it!"

Okay "T.P."! This time I have your number. I leave the saddle at his feet and this time I get the cinch BEFORE I replace the saddle. I come back with the replacement cinch and saddle him up. Never once does the saddle try and 'jump off'. Funny how that saddle doesn't do that when I am looking at it the whole time isn't it?

I swear he was laughing at me!

You are restricted for the rest of your life!!!

My husband is a funny man. He has his ways of doing things and he is very set in those ways. No begging or pleading can ever get him to waiver from being so "It's my way or the highway." He's not anal about many things but there are a few "Golden Rules" that we must 'obey' or he's sure armageddon will arrive. When I write or talk about these 'rules', I invariably always ending up laughing so hard I almost pee my pants. He of course can not see the humor in his 'rules' the way I can and is sure I poke fun of them just to make him mad. I'll let you all be the judge....

Golden Rule (Commandment) #1: This is the 1st rule of Nels' 10 commandments...
"Thou shalt not bring margarine into this household!"
That's right, we live with a permanent ban on margarine in this house. No way, no how, is margarine allowed within the walls of this home. Nels is convinced that margarine is just 1 molecule away from being plastic. I think he thinks that by eating margarine, you will end up at an older age with this big old wad of plastic in your digestive tract. ONLY REAL BUTTER MAY TRANSVERSE THE THRESHOLD TO OUR HOME! And, yes..... he CAN tell the difference.

Golden Rule (Commandment) #2:
"Thou shalt not wear any garments to bed of any kind!"
I have never been able to get a logical answer as to why this rule must be followed as stringently as it is. Whenever asked his answer is always the same.... "I don't like the feel of pajamas against my skin".... Okay...... so then 'you' go ahead and sleep naked, I personally don't mind the feel of pajamas, why can't I wear them? "Because I told you..... I don't like the feel of pajamas against my skin".... Okay, but I don't mind the...... "I TOLD YOU THE ANSWER IS NO!"
......alrighty then, let's move on.....

Golden Rule (Commandment) #3:
"Thou shall make sure that there is always FRESHLY BREWED, FRESHLY GROUND COFFEE available upon his lordships waking every morning." There are no exceptions or excuses for this rule not being carried out. There had better be coffee in the morning or God in heaven 'will' strike me down with a lightening bolt, you'd better be sure! Okay, well I need a cup in the morning too, to get started so no big deal....

Golden Rule (Commandment) #4:
"Honor thy Mother and Father" but "PAY ATTENTION TO ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" Okay, yeah..., blah,blah,blah... blee,blee,blee.... My father used to tell me the same thing but he did it up one better.... His "Pay attention to me when I'm talking to you!" was usually followed up with a "Or I'll put you on restriction for the REST OF YOUR LIFE!" Okay, dad, yeah... go ahead and just try and enforce that one.

Golden Rule (Commandment) #5:
"Thall shalt not leave to go anywhere without letting the big kahuna know where you are going, when you are going, how long you are going to be gone, and when you are coming back." Heaven forbid I be out of contact for an hour while I try and get some excercise at CURVES!! Okay, I'll just remain chubby then....

Golden Rule (Commandment) #6:
"Thall shalt NOT argue nor shall thou talk back!" Same rule applies as it did when I was a child. "Don't argue with me cause I'm older and I know what is best." "But Dad...." I would argue. "I said don't argue!" He'd shout, all the while his face getting redder and redder..... "But Dad..." I tried to plead my case....... "THAT'S IT!!! GO TO YOUR ROOM, YOU ARE ON RESTRICTION FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"

Once I said to my husband... "You know, you're just like my dad. He used to get mad and tell me I was restricted for the rest of my life..... hahahahaha... how can anyone ever actually enforce that?" My husband just laughed and said "You're married to me now, trust me, your dad knows it's still being enforced."

Golden Rule (Commandment) #7:
"Thou shalt NOT block your clock on your nightstand from my view at any time!" Okay, let me get this right..... You have a nightstand and I have a nightstand...... We each have our own alarm clocks on our nightstand...... One on your side and one on my side. I also have other stuff on my nightstand such as face creams, make-up, lotions, etc..... but if anything on "MY" nightstand blocks "MY" clock from your view, you go bonkers.... "Why can't you look at your own clock on your nightstand?" I ask...... "Because I like looking at your clock." he replies. "Okay then, I'll move my clock to your nightstand and I'll take your clock. That way if anything blocks your view on my nightstand, you can still see the time on your 'favorite' clock, which is 'my' clock, on your nightstand."
"NO!" he grumbles.
"What do you mean no?" I ask.
"I said NO!" "No is no." "I don't like your clock on my nightstand I like your clock on your nightstand." He's now getting agitated.
I open my mouth to reply but before I can get a single argumentative word out, he looks at me and says those all so familiar words that I have heard my entire life... "DON'T ARGUE WITH ME!" (I know, I know.... or I'll be restricted for the rest of my life....")

Golden Rule (Commandment) #8:
"Thou shall ONLY buy BOB'S BIG BOY BLUE CHEESE DRESSING for my salads." Now, I can of course buy whatever I want for my salads but for 'his' salads, it had better be blue cheese and it had better be "BOB'S BLUE CHEESE!" Don't be bringing home none of that Marie Calendar's shit.... (Some things are just easier 'not' to argue about)

Golden Rule (Commandment) #9:
"Thall shall be the driver whenever we go anywhere." Okay, that one is fine with me. For one, I know you drive all day going back and forth to job sites and you are exhausted when you get home. Second, I know all the driving really does cause you discomfort in your hips, so not a problem, I'm happy to do it (Besides I drive so much better anyway - hehehe)

And finally....

Golden Rule (Commandment) #10:
Always remember.......
"YOU ARE RESTRICTED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"
(I'm sure my dad told him to use this one......)
Thanks Dad!

It's the Chihuahua Bowl!

Is it just me or are Chihuahua's just nasty tempered little quivering dog embryos? I mean really, have you ever really looked at a Chihuahua? What kinds of people actually want to call a Chihuahua their "Beloved Pet"' What Chihuahua could ever live up to the term of "Man's Best Friend?" It makes you wonder.

Personally, every Chihuahua I have ever known without exception has been a shaking, snarling little yappy annoyance. Yes! I DO find Chihuahua's to be annoying. I know all you Chihuahua (I even HATE spelling it!) lovers are going to get your little Chihuahua panties all in a wad over this but I really can't stand the little shit-heads. I mean, if you are going to get a dog, get a REAL DOG!

We live down a long dirt road. The Mexican family down the road has get this, not just one, but a FULL 6 PACK of Chihuahua's! Yes! They come in 6-packs just like Corona's, Tecate's or Dos XX's do. And these are not just your run of the mill little timid Chihuahua's. They are a ferocious pack of yapping, biting, quivering little demons. They even look evil.

If anyone walks down the road, out comes the Taco-Bell pack on the attack. Of course they are basically harmless and a good punt to their undersides can send them flying 20 feet but it is still an annoyance to be walking down the street, minding your own business when out comes this little Taco-Bell plague on the attack. And of course, you guessed it, if one comes running the whole 6-pack comes.

Every day my son Tony used to have to walk down the road to get to his bus stop in the morning. As he would pass "Casa De Taco-Bell" each morning, all six Chihuahua's would come running on the attack. He knows they are harmless and would usually just ignore them and keep walking. Once in a while he would punt one for good measure just to see if he could, but in general they were usually ignored. An extreme annoyance but basically harmless.

Here at home we have a "REAL DOG". KoKo is a 90 pound female Akita. She loves her family and she adores my son, Tony. She's basically worthless for protection unless Tony is somehow involved. If she thinks any harm is going to come to Tony she becomes 90 pounds of what I would call "A REAL ANNOYANCE" and potentially a real danger to those trying to harm "her boy."

Well, when it comes to small dogs and cats, KoKo is not very 'user friendly'. No, not user friendly at all. In fact she thinks kitty snacks are the greatest thing to eat since canned dog-food and little dogs, well little dogs make great throw toys! Unlike the poor kitties that happen her way and get eaten, KoKo will not eat other dogs. She happily tosses them around, pouncing on them until they manage to escape and seek refuge under something too small for her to trespass. I don't think she has ever actually killed one. They usually either manage to escape or she looses interest in them once they stop yelling and squirming, and then lets them go.

So one morning Tony leaves to walk to the bus stop. A few minutes after he leaves I realize he has forgotten his lunch money. I can hear the Chihuahua pack on the attack after him, so I figure he's still within catching distance and I open the front door to call him back to get his lunch money. Before I realize what I have done, KoKo, who was apparently standing behind me when I opened the door, also hears the Chihuahua pack on the attack and bolts past me. "KoKo" I screamed, knowing that it was futile. Nope Mom, not coming back, gotta go save my boy. So there she goes after the Chihuahuas..... 90 pounds of infuriated Akita vs. 12 pounds +/- of Chihuahua six-pack. I didn't think she could move that fast. She was on top of the pack before they even realized they had been targeted. In a flurry of dust and fur, KoKo dived in and it seemed that all at once Chihuahuas were flying everywhere. She literally was so fast that at one time she had 3 of them air borne all at the same moment. Realizing they were in no way equiped to deal with this new 90 pound mennace, each and every chihuahua, upon landing, made a beeline for their property fence and quickly dived under. None ended up dead but all 6 were scared shitless! The final score: Akita 6 - Chihuahuas 0! Needless to say, the 6-Pack of Chihuahuas has never since that day waged war on my son Tony again.

Yaaaaayyyyyy KoKo!!!! YO QUIERO TACO BELL..........

The story of "The Three Stupid Little Pigs"

Once upon a time in a place called Washington DC, there lived three stupid little pigs.

Pig #1 was the stupidest of the pigs. Anything he said was stupid and Pig #2 and Pig #3 were constantly having to tell him to pull his hoof out of his mouth. Anything he said made Pig #2 and Pig #3 look like morons. But unfortunately Pig #3 had chosen this little pig to be beside him all the way and to take his place if anything were ever to happen to Pig #3. Here is a picture of Pig #1.




Next we have Pig #2. Now while Pig #1 is the stupidest of the three pigs, Pig #2 is the scariest to look at. Don't let her scary looks intimidate you though, she is actually too stupid to be dangerous.... (Or is that "She's soooo stupid, she's dangerous?) Anyway, it's a fairy tale so, whatever... Now Pig #2 also opens her mouth when she shouldn't and Pig #3 is so oblivious to the damage her big mouth lies cost him that he made her the Speaker of the House. Here is a picture of Pig #2. All the left-wing pigs in Washington let her speak for them whether they agree with her or not.



Now meet the ringleader of all the left-wing Washington pigs. He is pig #3. Pig #3 squeals a lot but never really says anything you can believe. He would like everyone to live in one big, happy community pig pen where we would all be taken care of by Farmer Government.

Some of the more intelligent farm animals are very much against this. "Why should we have to live the same way and under the same lowered standards as all the pigs on the farm?" they cried.

We need a leader that won't let the bad Pig #3 lump all the farm animals into the same muddy, smelly group of pigs!


And then along came the big, bad, wolf.... And she huffed and she puffed and she blew Washington down and then she ATE the bad three little pigs. Meet the big bad wolf to whom we should be very, very grateful.......


And Washington and all the other animals lived happily ever after..........

The End.

"Pubies On The Facial Bar" - The book I'm writing about all the annoying things men do that infuriate women.

I've been threatening to write this book for decades now and I think the time is now right for this enlightening piece of literature to make it's appearance.

For twenty+ years I have complained about all the annoying things men do that we women tolerate. My mother did it and her mother before her. We all gripe and nag about all these "manhaviours" but what do we do other than that to possibly prevent the re-occurence of them? Really, not much but more nagging and griping.

Well now folks, those days are gone forever! I'm going to write a book about all the annoying habits of men and what we as women can do to either stop the annoying "manhaviours" or at the least, simple things we can do to make them more tolerable.

My first and BIGGEST Man-Peeve (wouldn't insult by beloved Akita by calling them "Pet-Peeves") is the fact that when men shower, you got it..... They invariably ALWAYS leave....

"PUBIES ON THE FACIAL BAR"!!! (eeeeew, can you say GROSS!?!)

Now, my current husband, he came already trained. He is very neat and clean by nature and wouldn't dream of leaving little nasties on my expensive "ladies soap".

However, my first husband, while a very clean and hygenic person had this one super irritating habit. Now you know, men like "Man Soaps"... Such aromatic and strong soaps like "Irish Spring", "Zest" & "Dial". Now for us ladies, these soaps are sometimes harsh and too drying for our sensitive skin. So, instead of using "their" 3/$1.00 bars of anti-B.O. disinfecting soap, we spend a little more money on ourselves and buy nice soaps designed for a ladies tender skin, but that often come with hefty price tags of up to $5.00 - $10.00 per bar for these luxury suds.

So imagine your horror when your in the shower and you are soaping yourself up with your expensive lady-soap and you go to wash your face. You gently rub the bar of silkiness against your cheeks and the rest of your face. Suddenly you gag.... There is something that has wormed it's way into your now frantically spitting mouth and you can't seem to get it spit out. It clings coyingly to your lips and dares you to expunge it from your mouth. You raise your hand to brush off the offending intruder and there on your hand is..... (GROSS).... A BLACK, WIRY PUBIC HAIR! Ewwwwwww.....GROSS..... that means, you guessed it, hubby has been washing his smelly crotch with your expensive ladies soap and didn't even have the decency to use a washcloth!!! Nooooo that would actually be the sanitary way to do it! Instead he grabs your $10.00 soap and goes to work slathering his wiry, black haired crotch with the bare bar!

Now, very angry, you get out of the shower and demand to know why he would abuse your expensive soap in such a manner!?! "But honey" he whines.... "It feels so much better than my soap does." (AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH) "Then why the HELL don't YOU buy this soap for yourself when you go to the store?" He then looks at you like you are the meanest, most selfish woman on the planet for not sharing your soap and replies... "I couldn't be seen puting "that" kind of soap in my basket, that's not a guy's soap!"

And people wonder why women divorce men so readily these days.

So, there is a simple solution, VERY SIMPLE.

It doesn't matter how luxurious the soap, how good it smells or how expensive it is, IF IT IS PINK YOUR HUSBAND WILL AVOID IT AT ALL COST! So ladies, rule #1 is ONLY BUY YOUR EXPENSIVE SOAP IN THE COLOR "PINK". Rule #2 is, go out and get one of those cheap plastic travel containers for soap. Keep your soap in that at all times. Men are basically lazy-bathers. If it's not handy and easy to access they aren't going to use it. They will grab what ever is available. If given the choice of your $10.00 beige luxury soap or their $.33 bar of Irish Spring laying there in plain sight, guess what ladies, your soap is getting "Pubed!" However if they have to actually work at opening a plastic container to access "PINK" luxury soap (we ALL know that men think the color "PINK" rubs off on anything exhibiting any signs of masculinity), well I guarantee you ladies, it ain't gonna happen! Problem solved!

'Welfare Asshats' milking 'The American Way of Life'!

Okay, granted, I've been told I'm a bitch sometimes and I'm rather opinionated and even my own father refers to me as "Potty Mouth" but Damnit, enough is enough.

So, I'm in Win-Co a few days ago. For those of you that aren't familiar with Win-Co, it is perhaps the greatest grocery store on the planet! Everything and every brand you could possibly want, and it is all REASONABLY priced!! I shop at Win-Co because my husband keeps me on a $100.00 a week grocery budget. Now a $100.00 a week grocery budget for a family of 3 does not buy a whole lot of food. Thanks to Win-Co however and their low prices, clipping coupons and looking for sales I do manage to make that $100.00 a week work, and we eat pretty good too.

So I'm at Win-Co and I've got my basket filled about 1/2 way full with exactly (within $2.00's) of $100.00 worth of groceries. Yes, for my $100.00 I get just barely over 1/2 a basket of food.

All the checkout lines are really long but I spot an opening down the row. I charge down full speed ahead and plant myself in line.

In line ahead of me is a Mexican girl and her boyfriend/husband and their pack of kids. The girl looks to be no older than 19 and her husband looks about the same age. Geesh, they are just kids themselves, and with them are 4 screaming, filthy dirty children! They literally look to be of the ages 3-2-1-newborn. And with this already family-of-6 at under 20 years of age are 2 HEAPING FULL GROCERY CARTS OF GROCERIES!!!

"Damn!" I think, these guys really must have it going on or something, 2 HEAPING FULL grocery baskets full of food!! I have NEVER been in a position to buy that much food at once! So I stand there patiently while the checkout girl totals their amount. She then tells the girl what the amount owed is. (Some ridiculously astronimical amount)...

The girl just stares at her with a totally blank look on her face. Again, the clerk gives her the total and again a blank, stupid expression is returned by the mexican teen-age mom of 4. Finally the husband/boyfriend speaks up.... "She no speaka ayngleeesh"

"Oh" says the clerk and proceeds to tell the boy/father/husband/whatever, what the amount owed is. He then turns to the girl/mom/wife/whatever, and tells her the amount to procur from her wallet in Spanish. "O, si" she replys and digs in her purse for her wallet. At the same time he is fishing out his.

She hands the clerk what seems like a fistfull of food vouchers and he does the same.

"Ah, poor kids" I'm thinking. Here they are, just teenagers, saddled with 4 unruly kids, probably unemployed, as the food stamps/vouchers would indicate, and to top it all off here they are, stuck in a country where everyone does not speak their language........ "Poor kids" Well, at least they are getting 2 HEAPING FULL GROCERY CARTS FULL OF GROCERIES! They certainly won't go hungry.

They pay the clerk and leave, screaming filthy-dirty brats in tow....

I pay for my groceries and push my cart out of the store into the parking lot. As I'm going to my truck I happen to pass the same two teenage-parents unloading their brood and their 2 FUCKING FULL GROCERY CARTS FULL OF THEIR FUCKING GROCERIES THAT I AND MY HARD WORKING HUSBAND APPARENTLY PAID FOR into a BRAND NEW $50,000.00 HUMMER!!!

So let's get this straight...

1). They are apparently here in our country illegally as obviously they are un-employed or they wouldn't have FOOD STAMPS, right?

2). They don't speak (at least the girl doesn't) a single fucking word in ENGLISH!! (The language of the country that pays for their grand lifestyle)

3). They are probably less than 20 years of age and already have 4 screaming un-bathed brats that my husband and I and every other tax-paying American are forced to support, whether or not we want to.

4). And the best part of all is what......? Why, the best part of all is that THEY DRIVE A BRAND SPANKING NEW HUMMER!!! Now you tell me..... How in the HELL do they manage that???

I'll tell you how!! Us stupid Americans pay for the illegal aliens here to get FREE HOUSING, FREE FOOD, FREE MEDICAL....... Hell, I could pick tomatos too and still afford to drive a Hummer if I had every other expense I had in the world paid for me by some "stupid gringos"!

People, IT IS TIME TO GET REAL! Close our borders! Start EXPORTING EVERY SINGLE ILLIGAL ALIEN in this country back to the hell hole of a country they crawled out of! NOW! Stop the welfare to anyone who IS NOT A U.S. CITIZEN!

Okay, me and my 1/2 cart full of food feel much better now. But come on people, I mean, REALLY!!!