Just a little rant about life and Zombies and the right thing to do....not funny at all.....just the opposite.

I guess the question becomes, "Are we ever, as a family, going to trust anyone again. Let them in again." And this is why we all have such a hard time joining a church family. When we let you in we are all in...for you.
But are you "all in" for us? All in means, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.

As I watch the "Walking Dead" it reminds me of our dilemma as a family. Are you worthy is always on our minds. This decision used to be very easy. This decision used to be made by Peter and I. Peter would say be careful. I would say we need to help everyone.

But we have been fucked. Many a time. And it's not that easy.

You become gun shy. You start to ask questions, like how many Zombies have you killed? How many people have you killed?

And this kind of thinking boils over into church family. Yes, we think of our church as family. And despite our varying beliefs and journeys and paths, IF IF IF, we commit to a church.....the church is getting something GREAT!!! But we walk our talk and  if other people don't walk their talk, in the past, church or not, we are OUT...so our commitment to people and churches goes through a rigorous scrutiny and endless family discussions like no other.

We think we found a good group of people in this church we are going to, but some of us are still not ready to commit. We have been burned many a time, much like the walking dead group. So, why do I watch this show...it's life. It's the tests anyone who is "all in" gives people in their own head but our in the open. Cuz it's safe and acceptable in THAT world. But people who live THIS life, really live it, get to a point, just like Rick and his group, where they have to decide....are you one of us? OR are you the DEAD?

I feel sad that I have gotten to this point. I was one of the last hold outs in our group. I just hope someday I will find people who can fight WITH me in THIS world without losing my soul to do it.

The Walking Dead is about OUR WORLD. Pay attention! Who can YOU trust?

I feel lucky. I have a few. A few people outside of family that would do anything for me just if I asked them to, no questions asked and they know that is true for me if they asked. But I want to believe there are more than just those few. I keep searching...but it's becoming harder and harder to look...harder and harder to trust that there are MORE people out there.

The place that scares me the most is church. For me it was a safe haven. But people have taken over the message in many places and you cannot trust in it anymore. At least I can't. But I am still trying and that is the main thing...and I see people looking to me, asking ME. I try not to ask questions that haven't been asked. But people are asking now...do they really wanna know?

I am not sure...just not sure.....if they wanna know the truth. Are they willing to believe in each other, in themselves? Are they willing to make it through this life relying on THEMSELVES and the ones they trust?

It takes balls! It takes lots and lots of balls to be that sure of yourself and those you love and trust. Much much harder a decision than relying on God or anyone else for that matter. You are responsible for yourself, your actions, your community, your government, your schools, your choices.....your life. And that decision includes others because no man is an island...right? So, you have to figure out a way to commune with people you don't trust....you HAVE to take a chance that others are good souls. Man...that's HARD!!

But we have to......or we might as well be Michone with the two zombie's on a leash. Alone.

So, if we are going to be a part of this society we need to be "all in" with someone, with some group of people for better for worse......right? I was wrong in the past to leave on principle. I wasn't all in! I should have fought .......fought for what was right. Changed from within. I was protecting my children, but what I taught them was to run from adversity. And THAT was wrong.

So, we need to make a choice. We can't be an island. Well, we CAN be an island cuz we are badasses but we should CHOOSE not to be...just because it's the right thing to do.

It's time for crack

Happy Easter Bunny, BWAWK BWAWK!

You have all seen the commercial...all kinds of creatures are auditioning for a part as the easter bunny.
But what you don't know is that they are all on crack. Yes, it is true! Why else would a cat want to be the Easter Bunny. He would have to hop all over the world hiding shit for little kids. That's not very cat like.

Why else would a dog or a chicken or a cow wanna dress up in rabbit ears making fools of themselves. No self respecting cow would act that way, maybe a chicken, they are naturally unsure of themselves, but a dog??? NEVER!

So, the answer is... they are on crack.

Now if you have never tried crack, let me tell you it is addictive. The first time you try one morsel you are hooked and the only way you will give it up is if someone pries it out of your cold dead hands. The crack I am talking about, of course, is Cadbury Mini Eggs.

My family could eat a whole big bag in like half an hour. The crackle of the outside shell and the mouth watering chocolate inside, OMG!!

You have to be careful about this because not everyone knows what crack really is. My husband texted me once when I was at Wal Mart, "Hey, pick up some crack!"

I was at the check out and I said to the cashier, "Damn my husband wants crack, can you hold on a minute. I will be right back."

I ran off to get some crack and by the time I came back with my five bags (well, I needed some too!) there was a renta cop at the register..."Mam, this cashier said you asked her to buy you crack."

I just looked at him, holding up my armful of Cadbury Mini Eggs and smiled.

"Crack," I said.

"Yesssssss Craaaaaaack," he said in a maniacal voice, walking back to the Easter display.

I thought, oh he is so one of US!
The cashier wasn't there when I turned around. I think she quit.

My son's on a rant

So, my son, who usually doesn't rant, is on a rant about smoking while driving vs. cell phone use while driving and the evils of both.

I get it, there are a million things you can do in a car to cause distracted driving. When I was in sales I saw everything from people with homemade devices that fit on the steering wheel and held the newspaper so they could read while driving in bumper to bumper traffic on MD 270 going 70 mph with  less than one car length between them and the car in front of them because if they left more than one car length someone would cut into that hole from one of the seven lanes of traffic fighting to get to work faster than you,  to chicks with coffee in their hands, headsets on so they could talk on their cells legally, putting their mascara on while driving with their windows open to dry their hair... but the mascara is the real issue cuz if you have ever poked yourself in the eye with a mascara brush it is THE most painful feeling in the world, with the exception of burning your eye with a curling iron because you forgot to look in the mirror while curling your hair and instead looked right at the iron that was around your bangs and the only reason you are not blind in one eye is the hair was in the way... but I digress. And yes, that happened to me!

The point is there are a million things to distract you while driving and cell usage is the least of your worries. Twins, who are breast fed, in a car seat while on a long trip for instance. Or a 10 year old who knows how to "get" the 7 year old and make the seven year old scream and whine until you wish you were a barren nun so you didn't have to listen to these heathen children for one more minute. I once saw a guy getting a BJ while driving. So...there are things more distracting than cells while driving.

I personally, while driving to my son's high school football game and sipping on my water bottle filled with wine, have dropped a cd, picked it up from under the passenger's seat, put it in the cd player while swatting children in the back seat and spilled an old cup of coffee on my lap and not skipped a beat while driving.
Then again I grew up in upstate NY where your parent takes you to an icy parking lot and forces you into a spin on ice, brings you to the top of an icy mountain and tells you to make your way down while not using the brakes, forces you to parallel park in traffic with everyone cussin you out and beeping their horns into a spot that is clearly to small for your vehicle and makes you learn how to change a tire and the oil before you can take your drivers test. This is the same state that the Facebook joke posted on a wintry highway scene says, "90 percent of America sees these weather conditions and stays home, closes school and prays for the best. The other 10 percent live in upstate NY and say, "Hold my coffee and watch this."

So, are cells and smoking bad for concentration...absolutely. But there are a million other things that are as well, like eating a whopper...it does take two hands...that are equally as dangerous and not illegal. So, it makes one pause...maybe these new Jetson cars that park and brake for you are the answer, then we can smoke a doobie, drink wine, put on our makeup, read the paper, light up a Winston and answer our cell phones and NOBODY will care.

But until then, put duct tape on your kid's mouths, leave your vices at home and drive safe!!

Her real name is Ella

A disclaimer: This is tongue in cheek, funny, satire, it in no way is meant to offend and if you were offended please PM me so we can discuss. 

Two of my granddaughters went to see the movie Cinderella yesterday and when I asked the seven-year-old how the movie was she said, "Did you know her real name is Ella?"

And that is what the point of the movie should be in opinion. This chick has no balls. I haven't seen the new movie but the original version shows a young women, old enough to marry apparently, who lets everybody walk all over her. She can't do a goddamned thing for herself. And anyone with a brain could say this points to a diagnosis...but I will get to that later. It is a very complex historical documentary about women, this Cinderella movie, so put on your seat belts.

Of course, the story takes place in an era when women had no rights and were owned by men. The step mom is a genius in how she works the system and she gets no credit at all! In fact she is seen as a bad person. 

She marries a rich guy, canoodling and bamboozleing him into marriage, even though she is a single mom with two kids. And the kids are not even boys! I mean all the guys back then wanted a male heir; so a guy with a dead wife and a baby girl would NOT be lookin' for a kinda ugly chick with two girls. So, step mom really had her act together with how to play the game of the times. Marry a rich guy, he dies, don't marry again so you get his money and can actually own your own property. Then get your girls to marry royalty and you have it made!

But then there is the little glitch of his daughter...she is kind of a pussy and her name is Ella. She talks to birds and isn't all that smart. She can barely make a decision for herself. I am kinda thinkin' special needs here. So, you get her into a "life skills class" with the cook and housekeeper. Which she excels at, except for getting distracted by those birds and mice all the time. ANNNNNNNND, she thinks they talk to her.

Ok, so here is another little tidbit of history...special needs people were killed back in the day. So, this step mom is really good here and puts her in the attic when company comes over so no one figures out she is special needs or if they know she is, they figure it's kinda like Jane Eyre and since step mom has the big bucks to keep their "not quite right" daughter in the attic...good for them!

Old Ella having special needs, even if they are environmental,  may also explains why the dead father took any woman he could get, even if she was ugly and had two girls and no male heir. Just sayin'.

So, back to the story of the greatest most caring, dare I say brilliant bitch, step mom in history... the girl, not only was slow but probably had some mental illness issues going on because she starts seeing fairies and thinking they are REAL!

Yup, ole Ella, who lives by the Cinders, hallucinates a fairy to make her dreams come true, out in the garden, talking to the air, and mice, and birds who are all talking back to HER just as the palace guy comes to the house with the invite to the ball! (Not really good for the Jane Eyre plan to keep her from being killed by the guys in the white coats.)

As we all know some people with special needs can be very stubborn and insistant. So, despite mom telling Ella she really can't handle the ball. There will be lots of noise and lights and people, Ella decides to go. Step mom cannot hire a Personal Care Aide for Ella and has to lock her in the attic. On the way up the stairs, Ella's dress get ripped. It's a nightmare.

Then just as step mom of the century is setting her girls up to be royalty so they can all have a better life, special needs Ella almost ruins it all...and then, just when step mom thinks she can breath, Ella shows up at the ball with glass on her feet. Now, who the hell would wear glass on your feet. Step mom is scared out of her mind, "OMG, they are going to send her to the mental hospital or worse!"

So, she pulls her into one of the ladies' rooms and puts her in her own dress so she can sneak her out of the palace unnoticed, but the damn prince has a foot fetish and sees this chick with glass on her feet and makes his guards bring her to him so he can dance with her in those glass shoes. The whole time he's thinkin', "DAMN girl, you are hot bein' able to dance with those shards of glass cutting into those feet. I gotta have you!"

But her feet start hurting from the glass and she freaks out cuz she cannot find her awesome step mom, so ole Ella ... she freaks and starts hallucinating again. The "fairy" tells her to leave and leave now! So, she starts running and loses a shoe. She gets outside and has no way to get home, step mom has left, given up, tired of trying to help Ella. She has to walk all the way! She is freaking out, hiding in bushes and stuff cuz the guards are trying to find her. Scared out of her mind!

So, she gets home and step mom of the year, cleans her up and sends her up to her attic to hide so she doesn't get put in the nut house or killed. 

Princey poo with a fetish isn't too smart himself, what with all the in-breeding that went on back then amongst royalty, and insists that the crazy girl with the shoes is the ONLY girl he will marry. The king sighs and says to himself, "No other kingdom will let their intelligent or even semi normal princess marry this dick of a son of mine, so what the hell." (Think Queen Elizabeth and Prince Charles...yup, she thought the same thing.)

So, the soldiers show up at the door. Now, since the ball incident, step mom has been telling our girl Ella her name is now Cinderella and makes her say it a hundred times, "My name is Cinderella and I am the housekeeper. My parents abandoned me in the woods because I was special needs and this nice woman took me in." 

Step mom opens the door, scared out of her mind that they will take Ella and either kill her or put her in a nut house. But stupid "Cinderella" starts hearing things again and the mice tell her to go downstairs. She shows up, jams her foot into that painful glass slipper and is whisked away to live a life of a royal princess, doing her husband's sexually fucked up bidding for all of eternity.

Some chicks are such ingrates. 

Hey Johnny, you can't walk to the park alone...ok Ma.

Yesterday a couple was convicted of unsubstantiated neglect for letting their 10 and 6 year olds walk to the park. They live in Silver Springs, MD. A pretty affluent part of the world. I've been there.

Maryland Child Protective Services began investigating the Meitivs on Dec. 20 after someone called police to report that their children — Rafi, 10, and Dvora, 6 — were walking home from a playground about a mile from their suburban Washington home. Another caller alerted police when the children were walking from a playground two blocks from home, According to USA TODAY.

I also saw a post on Facebook yesterday where a grandparent put their infant grandchild in a roasting pan in the oven while they were babysitting and texted the pic to their adult children who had obsessively called to ask if the kid was ok, or to remind the grandparents to do this or that with the baby, like the people hadn't raised a couple of kids themselves or something. I found this hilarious! But the comments were mixed. Some folks said that the grandparents should be turned into children and youth and it was the most horrific thing they had ever seen!

Well, people I am here to tell you to get over yourselves. If a 10 yr old and a 6 yr old walking to a nice park in a nice neighborhood or a grandparent busting on his over protective, first time parent adult children is the worst thing you have ever seen then your are damn lucky!

I find it appalling, first of all, that this is getting all kinds of attention when the real question here is why the rich people are getting the government to care about their kids when there are thousands of under served poor and middle class populations that have to, I said HAVE TO, leave their children alone to work because they can't afford daycare, have no one to help or are just plain worn out from working two jobs and raising a family. Those kids play in the streets all the time. And not in the nice park. They play in truly dangerous parks. Why aren't you worried about those children?

Beside, walking to a park...really?

There are plenty of great parents who, because they had no one to help, have left their 6 year old in the car in charge of three babies , who were all in car seats, locked in, while she ran into the store for milk and diapers in a blizzard with 10 below wind chill while her husband was at a convention in California eating caviar. I am not naming ANY names!

Of course, the flip side, is my mother who left Amber in the car to go get milk at a convenience store and forgot to put the car in park. As my mother got out of the car it started to roll backwards into the Erie Canal with 7 yr old Amber inside yelling, "Hey Grandma, the car's rolling into the canal."

Luckily my mother somehow, along with an assist from  7 year old Amber, jumped back in the car and got it in Park before anyone was drowned.

But let's face it the baby in the oven pic...that was too funny. This is coming from a mom, who has an adorable video of her little girl's 10th birthday party. The girls are all doing crafts in the kitchen while dad is videoing and the twins are running around the table playing cowboys. At some point, one of the twins comes up to dad, the camera slowly moves down to see his crying face. Dad says, "James, what's the matter?"

James, a pitiful little three year old, says, "Chris won't play cowboys with me." sniff sniff.

Dad, "Awwwww, why don't you go stick your head in the oven. Go play!"

How are kids ever gonna learn problem solving skills if they can't even walk to the park at 10 years old for goodness sake. I was babysitting at 11 for babies!!

Get over yourselves people! Abuse? Neglect? Really?

Abuse is a three year old who tells you her daddy plays spider with her and he can touch her where ever he wants and when you turn him in the county tells you they have no proof and can't do a thing about it. Abuse is a 15 yr old who weighs 100 pounds and loses 10 over Christmas break but is non verbal and can't tell you what is going on. Abuse is the stuff you are not seeing on the news... that 's for sure!

Abuse or neglect is NOT letting your kids walk to a park in an affluent section of Silver Spring, MD., if you ask me. Never giving your kids the opportunity to succeed or fail on their own is child neglect.

What is also neglectful is our society telling parents they have to hover over their children, never let them fall on their butts or to have to figure something out for themselves, and then when they fail at being perfect and making a decision to let a kid walk to a park you arrest them.

In the old days, people would have yelled out the window at the kids, "Hey, does your mom know you're walking to the park alone?"

Then they would have called the mom and asked if she really did know. If she knew and they didn't think it was a smart idea that person would have done two things.

1. They would have said to themselves, that women is a dumbass.
2.  Then turned to their kid and said, "Hey Johnny...you aren't allowed to walk to the park alone, it's dangerous." "Ok, Ma!"

The end.

Hoochie mama sports reporters

Do the women in sports today know how much shit women had to go through to be a sports reporter back in day? Ooooohhh it makes me mad when I see that woman on ESPN Hannah Storm.

First of all, change your damn name...you sound like a stripper. Then you wear go go boots a low cut, short dress and you do NOT look professional. If all the guys around you are wearing suits and you have on a hoochie mama dress it's time to rethink your wardrobe!

Besides, it's sports not the red carpet. If you are in a traditionally male dominated profession, pay attention to yourself. Like it or not you are representing your gender. Do you wanna be noticed for your brain or your bra size. Yes, yes, this is all sexist. But it's how the world works and like it or not how you present yourself matters.

We owe it to those who went before us to make locker rooms accessible for women reporters.

According to, http://slapshot.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/01/21/the-first-woman-through-the-locker-room-door-35-years-ago/?_r=0,

"When the day finally came that she would break down a huge professional barrier, Robin Herman did not have much time to prepare. Herman, then a 23-year-old reporter for The New York Times, had been trying for a year to persuade N.H.L. teams to allow her and other women reporters access to athletes in the postgame locker room when, unexpectedly, the two coaches at the 1975 N.H.L. All-Star Game in Montreal said, yes, female reporters would be given the same access as men.

“Immediately, reporters started asking me, ‘Are you going to do it?'” Herman said. “I had been lobbying for this for a long time, so when the opportunity presented itself, I said I’d better do it.”

So, 35 years ago, Herman and another woman — a Montreal radio reporter, Marcel St. Cyr — gathered with other reporters after the game and walked in to conduct postgame interviews. Except she and St. Cyr instantly became the news and television cameras swung to them. They were believed to be the first women ever admitted to a professional locker room."

I remember when the first women reporters were allowed in a football locker room and guys were walking around naked just to be sexist jerks. So, if you are a woman sports reporter, dress like a reporter. I am not saying to hide your sexuality or anything, just be aware...alot was paid by your predecessors so you could be where you are today, respect that.

Having said all of this if I have to choose between listening to stupid Chris Collinsworth and Hannah Storm with her hoochie mama dress, I would have to go with ...well...Hannah...I can always close my eyes.

Baby names

Ok,  so I just heard that this big sports figure had a little girl.  His wife had her in the bath tub or something and he delivered her waiting for the ambulance. ..which is very cool!

But my problem is they named her some long ass name Jr. ...AFTER THE DAD! 

If you are gonna name a little girl Jr. Name her after the mom. She did all the work!  I get it, pretty much everyone knows their mom and not every one knows their dad.  Which keeps Maury Povich in business, but I digress.

Daddy is rich and famous and every one will know who she belongs to...the problem lies in the fact that people copy celebrities! 

Now all these poor little girls will be named after their broke ass, good for nothin daddy and will not be able to deny them when they fuck up AGAIN, and you know they will,  and end up in jail or borrowing money from their grandma on social security, or moochin food off the poor bag lady.

Hey ain't that yo daddy?
No, no that ain't my daddy.  I never seen him before.
But ain't yo name. ...Rick James Jr?
Ok, ok that's my daddy

See...it's a helluva thing to saddle a little girl with. ..women have enough to deal with in life without be named after their daddy!

There's always one

Whenever you go to a function there is always ONE...you know that person who needs for the whole place to know THEY are there. They are the person who hoots and hollers way too much or goes and talks to the band or the organizer after the event is over to make sure that person knows THEY were there.

Sometimes I am that person. I just realized it last night. I feel bad for performers when the entire audience is silent, or just claps a little. It makes me feel bad so I take it upon myself to Whooo hooo or clap loudly, even if  I don't think the song is very good.

I also like to go talk to the performers or organizers to pick their brains about things that weren't said. It's the news reporter in me. I always, always have a question that wasn't answered in the speech or the performance.

But last night was exceptional! We went to a great concert and this old man, lets call him Rummy, came in already snookered. As my mom would say, "He had a toot on."

He could barely walk and decided everyone at this concert was against him, including the performers. he screamed,"FUTT YOU" at the musicians, threw up on the table and, the best part, started a fight with someone at the next table.

Now let me tell you, Ole Rummy could hardly stand up and he had, at one point, fell asleep in his nachos. He was elderly and drunk and the person he chose to pick a fight with was like, well, Vin Diesel.

I nudged my husband and said, "Look over there. This oughta be good."

Yea, I know we are a little sick. But the old guy was with two handlers and Vin Diesel was with a couple guys who were with the band. So, I figured it would fizzle out before it started but you just never know. People watchin' at it's best!

So, the old drunk guy, tries to reach over and grab this hulk of a young man several times and his handlers pull him back before ole Vin even notices him but eventually, because the Rummy was told not to do it he keeps tryin', eventually the Rummy grabs Vin's shirt. I am like, ok it's on!

The handlers are pullin' Rummy back by his shirt trying to get him to sit in his chair. Vin is lookin' at these people like What the FUTT is goin' on and Pete and I, along with all the other attendees, had dinner and a show!

While Rummy is still fighting with his handlers, the two guys at Vin's table step between Rummy and Vin just to make sure nothin' happens and Rummy starts heavin' again on the table. Man, I was so wantin' to see if Vin could be quick enough to not get barfed on during the fight...

So, Rummy lost to Vin because he needed to barf.

The handlers get him to leave. Rummy falls down out in the parking lot.But they get him into the car. The handlers come back for their stuff and the area is Lysol-led. We tell Vin we would have paid 50 bucks for THAT pay per view fight! We all laugh and watch the real show.

Then about an hour later the handlers come back, completely unnerved by an entire room of people seeing their friend barfing, starting fights and screaming at people. They sit down and enjoy the show completely unnerved by the events earlier that evening.

THEY were gonna get their money's worth. Now THAT is enabling at its best.