Holy heart failure Batman! I joined an exercise Boot Camp.
The cat took me for a walk.
In case you don’t know, Boot Camps are a hardcore outdoor exercise program where they run you backwards up hills, and make you do backwards pushups and a ton of squats and other evil stuff. There’s also a strict diet plan that doesn’t include sweets. They’ve set me up to fail.
I don’t know why I signed up. Really. The only thing I can figure is I was under the influence of an overdose of cold/flu medicine at the time.
I believe being “under the influence of cold medicine” is grounds for temporary insanity. Not that I necessarily qualify for the “temporary” part.
This particular Booty Camp is ten weeks long, and it started this past weekend. (I’m calling it “Booty” camp because it’s all about getting my booty in shape.) Needless to say, my booty was bringing up the rear of the booty camp. Thank goodness I wasn’t the very last booty, like I was six months ago. This time there were about 200 people so my odds were better.
O Hai Interwebz! Dis iz also da guest post frum da kitteh. Member meh? Shur yu do! Mai hooman offen talkz abot meh, an now I iz gunna be yur nu favorit blogger! Dis iz mai first post.
(Editor’s note: The following is a holiday letter from my cat (and I) to the interwebz. I am a crazy cat lady who sends a similar letter every year from my cat to my patient and understanding friends and relatives. I say ‘patient and understanding’ because they have yet to lock me up in the funny farm. It’s written in LOL speak, and you can find more of it plus many funny cat pictures at ICanHasCheezeburger.com. If you don’t like LOL Speak, feel free to skip this.)
Da Kitteh’s Holiday Letter to da Interwebz
Itz dat tyme agin fer da Kittehz Updat Holiday Letter at teh holiday timez! Since mai hooman an all her relatifs lyk mai lettars soo much, I iz doin dem evry yeer now! I no you are vera happi bout dis. I is vera happi, tu!
2010 haz been anuther gwate yeer! I turnd 16 and I still feel and act lyk a yung kitteh. Mom (mai hooman) took gud care of me, az alwayz. I still gotz a bathz dis yeer, tho, but I don tink I waz durty. I also gotz meny nu toyz and speshul treets! I slept an playd a lot, too. Iz had sum helth isuzz, but wit da owful medacinz I feelin preti gud. Lif iz reely gud for da spoild kitteh lyk meh. Don’t stop now! Continue reading A Holiday Letter Frum Da Kitteh
Ahh, what a lovely day. (UPDATED: This should say “week”.)
Ok, I’m lying. Totally fucking lying. (I apologize for the cussing, but sometimes only a cuss word will do. There are more, just so you know. I probably have that cussing disease today, you may want to leave now.)
You all know about the Droid X issue, which may, or may not be resolved. Some ex-boyfriends responded to the age-old texts as if nothing had changed and the conversation – and relationship – hadn’t ended LONG ago.
One ex asked, “So how you sleeping?” Much better without you’re nasty a$$ taking up the bed.
Learn from my mistake my dear Kernutties: Clear your text cache. Seriously. Do it now. I’ll wait.
And some of you know about the persistent MF who keeps trying to hack my blog. Seriously? WTF?! At this point, his persistence (12 attempts that I know of, plus three lock-outs) causes me to think it’s personal. There are two people whom I think sociopathically capable of this. I’m working on a post that includes one of them, and is about the time Martin Sheen saved my life. (Not a joke.)
What a wonderful way to spend a Memorial Day: Riding on a Harley, to a National Monument, and a BBQ with family. All with the complete sense of freedom and safety.
This post is on the serious side, folks, but I feel the need to describe to you what I learned. Those things above would not be possible without the selfless dedication of our American Troops. My heart goes out to the families of the fallen, the men and women serving away from their families, and all the men and women past, present and future who’ve kept and continue to keep this country free.
Thank you all for your service. And thank you to the families who endure the separation so their loved ones may serve.”
Amazing Grace by LeAnn Rimes. I don’t know who created the clip.
40 sounds great. Not that I relate. I'm still 27. Always 27.
We interrupt the regularly scheduled post to bring you… well, this.
First, let me just say I did not write this. I wish I had, but I didn’t. The following was sent via email by a friend…
If you are 40, or older, you might think this is hilarious!
When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were. When they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning…. Uphill… Barefoot… BOTH ways. yadda, yadda, yadda
And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they’ve got it!
But now that I’m over the ripe old age of forty, I can’t help but look around and notice the youth of today. They’ve got it so easy. I mean, compared to my childhood, they live in a damn Utopia.
Mirroring: one of the methods practiced in Tantra.
Do sexually confident women scare men or is this an attractive quality?
Really, I want to know. My sexual confidence and security has intimidated more than a few boyfriends. It’s a running theme. And, sadly, the older and more confident I get, the more I seem to intimidate them. So it’s not like it’s going away and I have no intention of squashing it.
But I’m about ready to give up all efforts at finding a match.
Before you let your kinky imaginations run wild… I don’t even get a chance to bring out the whips and chains before they get scared (read: ‘sudden loss of interest below the waist’).
I’m kidding about the whips and chains. Kind of.
Seriously, I’m not even a screamer, much. I just enjoy sex and am not shy about it, or talking about it.
Car Shows, Riding on a Harley, Fried Artichokes, and fresh, hot Cinnamon Rolls!
What an amazing weekend it’s been! I’ve been out showing my friend from Meeneesooota the sights and it’s been an tour of the senses.
That’s partly why I haven’t been around much. Like anyone’s noticed. (I can’t yet tell you all the other reason just yet, but will tell you all as soon as I can. And I promise you’ll love it! ‘Cept for maybe my parents. But they’ve got to be use to me by now.)
It is truly a delight to show someone the sights who has the ability to let their inner child out, experiencing the world with that same sense of wonder and appreciation. He was amazed by the beauty of the Big Sur, California coast, and let himself express it and immerse himself in it. That’s the part most people seem to find hard to do. For me it comes naturally. Probably because I’ve never Don’t stop now! Continue reading An Exploration of the Senses
I’m fascinated by linguistics, especially the colloquialisms specific to a certain region. We all have them, and those little words can give an indication of where you grew up, or lived for many years.
Also when you grew up.
A friend is visiting from Minnesota. He’s never been to California so I’m showing him the sights. The other day I used the word ‘dude’ when relaying some meaningless important story to him.
Yes, maybe I’m a hopelessly outdated Californian, but that’s not the point.
They ask, ‘Why are you single??’ or ‘Why haven’t you been married??’
But when they ask, with face half turned and narrowed eye, the tone says: “Is there something wrong with you that I can’t see??” (Uh, not trying to hide it. At all. Pay attention.)
Or it sounds like “How could you even WANT to be single? Isn’t it scary?” (Nope, kinda nice actually. I don’t have to check in with anyone before I go somewhere and my scissors are always where I left them. How about you? Do you know where your scissors are?)
I am asked this all the time. All. The. F’n. Time. The frequency with which I get asked that question never ceases to amaze me. Nor does the unending curiosity. Seriously, even I’m not that interested in my own status.
Don’t Follow Me, I’m Lost.