Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sister Wives Need Not Apply

*DISCLAIMER - this is totally a copycat post based on Mrs. Hyde's blog post.  You can find it here. Please click, it's an excellent blog and a really great post.  I just have a different perspective on it.*

Okay, so I watched this show on TLC or discovery or whereverthehell it was last week for the first time ever.  I know they have been doing this for months, maybe years.  I've just always managed to have something else to do or watch when it was being aired.  This past, whichever night it was, I actually sat through an episode.  Wow.  

Let me just get this out of the way to clear it up.  I'm not about to go all 'Christian judgey' on anyone.  Not my style.  If it works for them, more power to them.  I personally think it is a huge waste of the area's police and DSS resources to investigate them.  He isn't breaking any laws that I can tell.  He is legally married to the first wife and she is simply allowing him to have 3 mistresses besides.  

I have a number of issues with it and questions about it.  The issues are just mine because I am one seriously jealous bitch.  I'm good with plenty of things, Darling Husband has always been an incorrigible  flirt.  He likes women and women like him.  I had to learn to deal with it.  He's curbed his nature somewhat but it doesn't change the basic fact that, like me, females are completely charmed by him.  However, there are a few things that are just for me.  Like his cock.  It's for me and only me.  

So most of my questions and bizarre curiosity are centered around their sex life. Surely that isn't a surprise to anyone.  I mean, how do they determine who he sleeps with?  Do they have a calendar that says wife one gets him on Sunday and Thursday night, wife 2 on Tues and Sat, wife 3 on Wed and Friday and when the hell does that leave for wife 4?   Oh, Mondays, of course...what was I thinking?  

Now assuming that none of the women are 'into' one another, that brings up a whole 'nother question.  If he just happens to be being affectionate with one  of the wives and they get all hot and bothered, is it cheating if they proceed and it isn't her turn?  

My other problem with polygamy is that it all centers around the man.  Why should so many women be content to share a single cock?  What if I wanted brother husbands?  Three of them could go out and earn good livings so we would be financially secure, the other one can stay home and help with domestic projects around the house.  At night I would have my choice of 4 penises.  Because every one is different, sometimes I would go with the sensitive one who makes sweet gentle love to me, sometimes I would go to the one who likes to play freaky deaky role playing games with me, some times I would go to the one that likes to be dominated, and sometimes I would go with the one who just likes to prop me on my knees and do me doggie style.  Whatever my fancy at the time.  

Fortunately for me, Darling Husband thinks that having more than one wife would surely be a nightmare (he lives with me y'all don't - he would know).  But just for fun, I asked him how he would feel about brother-husbands.  How would he feel about sharing me and my affections with other men.  He's really not feeling that at all.  I guess that settles it.  We are a one man, one woman household.   

Monday, March 21, 2011

April A to Z

Yes, I'm really going to do this and you can too!!! 

So while I was perusing the numerous blogs that I subscribe to, I found something really interesting.  Jennifer Daiker at unedited has this A to Z Blogging Challenge for the month of April.  I don't know who originated it, and it is probably in poor form to not link all the way back to the originator, but what can I say.  I'm lazy.  If you click her link it will take you to a sign up page.  

I've been lacking inspiration of late which is why I haven't been blogging much, so I'm thinking this might be a good way to get me going again.  The idea behind it is that there are 26 letters in the alphabet and if you blog 6 days a week for the whole month you'll be able to get in a blog post for every letter.  

This could end up being a huge bust, but I'm going to give it a go.  By all means if you are even the least bit interested click the link sign up and have a go at it yourself.  I'm sure that all of you can come up with really good stuff and I would love to see it.  Of course there are some of you, and you know who you are, that won't want your topics or creativity to be constrained in this manner and I understand that too.  Some of us need a little prompt, or prod to get moving.  

If you do want to participate, sign up, grab the button, post it on your blog and you're all set.  I'll be putting up my button shortly.  

Who is with me?

Monday, March 14, 2011

Dear Penske Truck Leasing.....UPDATED!

Dear Penske, 

You are forgiven.  Thank you for my refund.  Apparently it really IS all about talking to the right person AND being armed with the right information to justify your claim (Steph be sure to thank Ant again for me!). 

Before I start my letter, let me just offer fair warning that this is going to be a ranty and probably quite gritty post because I am all kinds of pissed off.  If you are looking for something cute and fluffy today please allow me to direct you to LOLcatz for your fix.  

Dear Penske Truck Leasing, 

Even though you came highly recommended by personal friends, your product sucks ass.  On your website your slogan is "Penske offers high-quality moving and expert support" not 'Well it DOES get you from point A to point B".  Perhaps you should take a moment to slip into something more honest like the latter.  You see, your District Manager in Salt Lake City is trying to shove the whole 'well it did get you there' thing down my throat  (although it feels more like up my ass - which, by the way, I don't take kindly to).  

So far I am completely underwhelmed by both your products and your support.  

When we decided to move cross country we knew that we needed the best possible truck to carry all of our worldly possessions some 2200 miles.  That's why we called you.  My Darling Husband explained the situation in painful detail to everyone that he spoke to.  'We're on a tight schedule, cross country in 4 days, weather permitting.  We will be traveling with 3 kids, 2 pets and all of our worldly possessions, we  don't have the luxury of waiting for someone to come out and fix the truck in transit.  We need one that will go where we need it to with no or minimal hassle."  Everyone he spoke to said they understood and seemed to be clear on what we needed.  

Not sure where exactly the breakdown in communication occurred, clearly somewhere between the call center where the order was taken and the Penske truck location where we got the truck.  All I can figure is that your rental offices received the messages via braille, morse code, ancient sanskrit or any number of other ways that need to be deciphered and apparently they lacked the requisite Ovaltine Little Orphan Annie decoder ring because we got out of there with a truck that had a shitty front-end alignment. 

That motherfucker (that's right, I said it) pulled to the right like a poorly leash trained mutt who smells a bitch in heat in the vicinity and shimmied like a burlesque dancer (minus the nice view) when driving at speeds between 45-60mph.    Not only was it uncomfortable to try and keep the monster on the road and off the shoulder, it was just plain dangerous.  

Neither myself or my husband are professional truck drivers and we crossed not one, but two mountain ranges in that piece of shit.  Oh and have I mentioned that it was the last week in February?  Most of the areas we traveled were still locked in with snow and ice and many places were still slicker than whale shit. 

Darling husband diligently reported the problem every morning that we were on the road.  Even Cliff himself doesn't have that many notes in the pocket version of Wuthering Heights.  And yet when I speak to the District Manager at Salt Lake City (oh yes, we're back to this lovely bag o'douchery) he tries to tell me that we called first in Wyoming.  Really?  Seriously?  WHAT?????  I heard the calls myself.  

Darling Husband is usually a force to be reckoned with but the DM at SLC (we all know what that stands for by now, right?) has been jacking him around for nearly two weeks since we turned in the truck.  Hemming and hawing and explaining everything away.  Or trying to.  Darling Husband in this case has just been entirely too nice.   

All we are asking for is a refund for product that didn't live up to expectations by far.  We aren't asking for compensation for all the money we spent to fuel the gas hog, or even for the antique white oak dining room table that was crushed due to all the aforementioned shaking and shimmying.  At this point, you are leaving me no choice other than to contact the BBB to report our harrowing cross country ordeal.  

Kiss my ass....


Apologies for ranting it all out here and if you are so inclined please feel free to post on your own blogs as a favor to me, even for just a few hours.  I want as many people as possible to know that Penske Truck Leasing sucks donkey balls (to coin a favorite phrase from Mrs. Hyde). 

Saturday, March 12, 2011

So I have a small problem....

I love to write, but I'm not a very disciplined writer.  You see, when I get an idea it comes to me like a scene in a movie, maybe even two scenes, and its so vibrant and brilliant that I don't think it through or where I'm going with it.  I just sit down at the computer and start typing.  And that's all good and well until I get a page or two in and realize that I have really no idea where the story is going.  I think when I start I'm expecting the story to tell me where its going, problem being, since I am the one in control, I am the god of that universe that I am creating.  That leaves no one to tell me where the story is going and I find myself bereft of good ideas and back story and have no idea where to take the story.  

I've been considering sharing my latest little monstrosity with you guys for....a while now.  Several months (btw, I missed my 6 month blogversary - would have been the end of February I believe) to be sure.  However, I have come to love and trust the lot of you and I'm hopeful that you will take a look at it and give me some feedback.  Hopefully you won't think its a bunch of codswollop and if you do, you'll be gentle about telling me so.

Without further ado.....please find for your dancing reading pleasure what I have for some reason temporarily titled One Hell or Another....

Her hands shook as she tried to coax her unruly copper hair into a neat ponytail.  She was so nervous she thought her heart might beat out of her chest.  In the mirror she examined the base of her throat where she was sure she would be able to see her pulse.  But her throat betrayed no sign of her anxiety.  Being extremely pale with more than a sprinkling of freckles when she was anxious or excited, the color in her cheeks would rise in garish red splotches.  Sure enough the mirror reflected these splotches.  
“Jade, it’s time” said the plump elderly matron of the facility.  Her soft pleasant face and carefully modulated voice gave the impression of a kindly grandmother, but Jade knew by now that people didn’t have to look severe to be harsh and evil.  In fact, she was aware that it is often underneath a perfectly benign appearance where the worst kinds of secrets lived.  
Jade took one last steadying breath and stood up to allow herself to be escorted into the room where her future would be determined.  The hallways were chilly and sparsely decorated.  She suppressed a shudder as they walked past the window that showed a grey afternoon sky that had been spitting sleet for most of the day.  As they walked she could feel her toes pressing uncomfortably into the ends of her patent leather shoes.  
“Please, God, let this time be different.” She prayed quietly.  She didn’t know why she bothered praying to something she wasn’t sure she believed in.   They stopped in front of a large wooden door that Jade had walked through several dozen times before.  The lady beside her gripped Jade’s upper arm hard enough to hurt.  “Listen up, this may be your last chance so make it count.” she hissed into Jade’s ear.  Jade knew exactly what she meant.  At 10 years old, she was not exactly the prime age for adoption.  She no longer had that new baby smell, or huge eyes full of innocence.  She gave Jade’s arm one last vicious squeeze before carefully composing her features, releasing her grip and opening the door.  
Jade knew well enough what to expect.  On the other side of that door was a cozy room with a crackling fireplace and overstuffed furniture.  It was easily her favorite room of the   orphanage.  It made her feel, even for a few minutes, like she belonged somewhere.  It was the closest thing to a real home she ever experienced except in her dreams.  
Inside the room, was a couple who were sitting close to each other on the couch trying to catch their first glimpse of Jade in real life.  They had an air of excitement about them.  The lady was a redhead, like Jade with a sprinkling of light freckles, kind brown eyes and a warm smile.  Her husband was very striking with his blond hair, carefully coifed, blue eyes and dimples.  Jade thought he looked like a life-sized Ken doll and had to quickly stifle a giggle.  
Mrs. Madeline introduced Jade to the couple.  In her carefully silken voice she crooned, “Jade, this is Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter.  They’ve traveled a long way to meet you.”  Jade crossed the room with as much grace as her unfortunately clumsy feet would allow and extended her hand.  “Pleased to meet you.” she said as she smiled and shook their hands. 
Jade took a seat in the chair adjacent to the antique end table, facing the couple as Mrs. Madeline quietly exited the room.  Of course she knew that Mrs. Madeline never actually left.  She watched and listened to the whole exchange from an ornate two way mirror on the opposite wall from the fireplace.  
The woman spoke first.  “Hello, Jade.” she started almost apprehensively.  I’m Holly and this is my husband, Ken.”.  This time Jade did laugh a little but quickly shoved it back down.  “We’ve traveled all the way across the country to meet you.  We’ve seen your profile online and you seem to be everything that we are looking for in a little girl.”  Jade flushed with warmth and surprise.  “But I don’t understand, I’m not a baby, or even a small child.” she replied.  
This time it was the husband who spoke.  “None of that matters.  We picked you out because you are special.”  When they spoke it sounded like music to Jade.  She could feel a ridiculous grin spreading across her face and in spite of her determination not to allow it, hope rose inside of her.   

I got to this point and found myself asking - "What makes Jade so special?" "What type of facility (I think a group home or orphanage)?" "What is Mrs. Madeline's angle?" and "What on Earth do the Carpenters want with her?"  

If anyone is willing to provide feedback and maybe a few prompts should this ever come up I'll give proper credit to all involved in the creative process.  Thanks in advance.  I love you all so much!  

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

We're here!!!

So, this is going to be a half-assed non weekend post.  My half assed pic that I stole borrowed from Simple Dude is on my other computer.  The mac.  Oh my Mac how do I miss thee?  But I am rabbit trailing....

We get to move into our house today (finally).  We were supposed to be moving in Monday and yesterday but the house wasn't ready.  Let me elucidate for you all my wonderful stellars. 

Imagine if you will, that you spent some 5 plus hours loading a 22 ft truck and realized you were still going to have to get a trailer to get the other stuff that really can't be left behind.  One of the last things that you do prior to totally disconnecting is check your email one last time.  In your inbox is an email from the property management firm with a time stamp of 6:40pm.  This isn't a 'have a safe trip, we can't wait to meet you' email.  No, this email was something else entirely. 

This email informed us that while doing a final inspection of the cleaning prior to move in, they found black mold in the basement and the air ducts and they were releasing us from our lease.  WHAT???  I thought that I was hallucinating due to the stress from packing and loading.  Suddenly my question ('WHAT'???) was being echoed by Darling Husband.  It was at that moment that I realized I'd spoken it aloud.  Really loudly.  

Understand, all appliances, beds, and tvs and furniture (and vibrator) are packed in the truck.  We were going to be sleeping on air mattresses that night.  Suddenly we didn't have anywhere to go?  It was incomprehensible.  We started calling and leaving messages.  Between the two of us we left like 10 messages (each increasingly agitated from the prior) in an hour.  Finally we heard from the property management company and were assured that they were getting the mold remediated.  However, the house wasn't ready for move in when we arrived.  So we've been hanging out in a hotel and hopefully will be starting move in shortly after noon time.  

I'll have more adventures to share just wanted to check in.  Apologies if it isn't entertaining.  Hoping to be back on form once we get settled.