Tag Archives: Rants

Indecent Proposals, part two

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

If you haven’t already, read part one of Indecent Proposals here, or none of this post will make sense. All caught up? Ok, good.

Mouse having sex with a mouse.

This is like internet dating, but better.

He replied saying he was busy traveling for a few weeks. Then no other communication for two weeks, until I get the email below (in green). Apparently, he’d not been traveling as he said in his previous email. When reading his next email, with his thinly-veiled indecent proposal, keep in mind we have had one phone conversation and we have not met.

Dear Blond Lemming,

Good morning. I hope that you had a fabulous holiday weekend.

Are you making the move to (town to get away from the ex Speck) this week?

I’ve been catching up with friends and trying to get my back yard ready for a 3 week trip. I’m planning to leave this weekend, hopefully Saturday, to go to a conference in OH and then spend 2 weeks in MI. Then I’ll drive up through the Upper Peninsula and back down through WI. Should be a lovely time for a trip. I’m busy lining up appointments and visits now.

Sorry we haven’t met yet. We’ll have time to talk in the car if you want to ride along;-) I’m taking my friend’s kayak and am especially looking forward to the shores and inlets of Lake Superior. I’ll be passing through a lot of areas where wealthy Chicagoans have their summer homes. They might be good regions for your sales? Ready for an adventure?

Or a cup of coffee, of course;-)

With wanderlust,
Greenie

WTF? I’m thinking the “wander” portion of his signature was a typo on his part. And he wasn’t paying a bit of attention during our call if he thinks I sell door-to-door products, or anything, to homeowners.

Hi Greenie, But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: The day Pye locked me out of the RV

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Remind me again, Why do I have a cat?

Better yet, why do I have THIS cat?

Fair warning: This is long, and kind of ranty.

The trip was already going far too slowly: It had taken me 13 hours to get 2.5 hours away. I was behind schedule by an entire day. I was supposed to be in the Texas panhandle by Sunday late afternoon, and working by Monday morning. But the RV needed a couple minor things (air in tires and a new battery – NO THANKS AT ALL TO PROGRESSIVE’S ROADSIDE-LACK-OF-ASSISTANCE PROVIDER, AGERO.) Read the first part of my adventure to get caught up.

So now it’s late Monday morning. I’m in the middle of small town America, somewhere in the Texas panhandle. After the sleepless night at Wal-Mart and a second long day on small, bumpy country roads, I have made it only as far as Crosbyton, Texas.

The day Pye locked me out of the RV

Pye hates the RV when it moves, and is positively stir crazy when we’re not driving down the road. She hates riding in the RV more than Checkers ever did and wants to get out as soon as it stops. Refusing to see the pattern of never being let out in a new place, she yowls at the door, and tries pawing at the door handles. (You see where this is going, don’t you?) After two solid days on the road she is done.

I slept late to make up for the lack of sleep the night before, feeling guilty the entire time because I know I’m already not going to make it to the top of the Texas panhandle by that night, even without the compulsory stop in Amarillo to see my top bucket list item, the Cadillac Ranch.  But, wait! There’s more…

Tales From the RV Park: Holy Haters Batman!

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

I’m not going to bother with the usual disclaimer on this one because this is a rant. It’s also not directly related to the RV park, which has a whole host of weirdness all its own, but is instead a rant about my general experience with the nearby towns. There will be cuss words.

If you are new to this blog, you should probably skip this post for a better one. Any other one. This post isn’t my best first impression. Just saying. I don’t know when I began caring about first impressions. Humh, that’s new. Carry on.

<rant on>

Say NO to haters.

Say NO to haters.

I am ready to leave Deerville, Soberville, and Touristburg. I’m over it, for a couple reasons.

I’ve been teaching a free meditation class in one of the neighboring towns. I’ve done this before. I don’t get paid for it, it’s something I like to do to better my little corner of the world. It’s also fun for me, gives me a chance to meditate with a group, and best of all to hopefully encourage people to meditate daily. I teach different approaches to meditation, ways to easily increase your practice, and share what it’s done for me.

Daily meditation has change my life in ways that were previously unimaginable to me: a sense of inner peace, mental clarity, better health, and the ability to monitor my thoughts – and to choose better ones, etc. Of course I want to share this with people, so I started teaching meditation to others. I have done this for a several years, and it has always been a fun experience.

But then some haters came. Now I don’t want to share it with them anymore. But, wait! There’s more…

Don’t judge others too quickly. It looks bad on you.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

A rant of sorts…

Have you ever been wrongly accused? I’m sure you have and I don’t have to tell you it’s emotionally crushing to be on the receiving end, to know that people who should know you better, people who claim to care about you, are so quick to think the worst of you.

Being wrongly accused has been a running theme in my life, especially for the last few months or so: A dear friend accusing me of all sorts of truly bizarre actions and motives. Another I considered a good friend silently doing the same and disappearing. My boss repeatedly accusing me of inflating my time sheet. Chickenbone accusing me of saying something mean on Facebook about my nephew.

Each and every accusation couldn’t have been more off base, and so completely unlike the person I am. And it hurt each time.

I’m not sharing this to gain sympathy or pity, but to show what the effects have been, and how it has changed me for the better.

As I pondered this running theme, But, wait! There’s more…

Unsolicited Advice. Let’s all sing “Let It Go”

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Author’s note: This is another rant. I apologize. My doctor tells me that after the surgery, my hormones will be back to normal and I’ll feel a lot better. I’ll be stuck at home for two weeks and plan to do some writing about happy stuff, and possibly posting pics from my surgery. (Warnings will be posted for the squeemish.)

Unless you like unsolicited advice, don’t ever tell your relatives or close friends you’ve got a serious illness.

I’m just saying.

Remember when I blogged about looking for a common-law husband with good insurance because ObummerCare sucks? (No, I didn’t find a husband.) I might have mentioned needing surgery.

Well, I do. It’s major surgery, but nothing that millions of women haven’t gone through. Side note: Those of you men hoping I would someday birth your children, well… sorry, but that ship is about to sail.

But here’s the thing that I’m going to rant about…

Do not ever tell your family you’re sick. I know, that sounds horrible. I used to be just like you all, thinking keeping the health secret was a terribly cruel thing to do to your family. They only want to be there for you because they care, they just want to “help”! But, wait! There’s more…

All hat and no cattle

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Your lesson for today is a Texas saying: All hat and no cattle.

It means pretentious. Like a guy who just bought himself an expensive cowboy hat, but doesn’t have any cattle.

Used in a sentence, generally after some pontificating dork has just left the building, in your best Texas accent, “That guy is all hat and no cattle. My family has known his family since his grand-pappy and my grand-pappy were toddlers and they ain’t never had a pot to piss in. There’s no way in God’s Creation that kid has sixteen oil wells on his property. He don’t have no property!”

All hat, looking for missing cattle.

All hat, looking for missing cattle.

That’s it, that’s the lesson for today. It has nothing to do with the rest of this post.

Then what am I writing about? A very serious matter: My visitor and blog stats have dropped by over fifty percent during the last month or so.

I agree, it’s tragic!

My writing isn’t the most scintillating or magnetic, but that hasn’t seemed to stop most of you from coming back anyway. So we can’t blame my writing – this time.

The drop in visitors to my blog is possibly due to a trojan. Sadly, I don’t mean the prophylactic trojan. I’m referring to the much less enjoyable internet trojan.

I swear But, wait! There’s more…

I’m feeling slightly less jaded than last week. Yeah, there’s that.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

I wrote most of the following post rant after the last of several crappy condescending and chauvinistic incidents in the three preceding weeks. Feel free to skip it. The quoted portion is what I wrote last week. I’ve since calmed down a bit and am now feeling slightly less jaded. I explain why at the end.

I alluded to this in my previous post and on my Facebook page. And a dozen times in my Match.com dating disasters.

<rant on> Recent events in Texas have reminded me of my pet peeve of too many superficial compliments, but few to none, nada, zip, zilch about anything substantial.

Am I really just a piece of pretty fluff?

In my previous post, I mentioned how much chauvinism and blatant objectification there is of women in the south. If I sound a bit, well, annoyed, you’re right. I’ve pretty much had my fill of it lately.

I’ve mentioned before how polite Texans are as a whole, but there is a dichotomy to their manners, at least those of some of the men. On one hand most are very polite, calling you ‘ma’am’, holding the door, insisting on paying for everything. But on the other hand some of those same men will just as quickly treat you like an object, or as if you are “less than” for being a woman. But, wait! There’s more…

Don’t make me get my gun out. Again.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Two things that need shootin’: Varmints in your RV, and Stalkers

It’s been a week of things that need shootin’. (Note the dropped “g” – I’m already starting to sound like a Texan. Just know it happens very fast, people, very fast.)

(A note for my new readers: Last summer I bought my first RV and immediately became a full-timer. I’m single, and drive a mid-size Class A. I travel with my cat, Checkers – the copilot who can’t read maps, and a rare house guest/visitor. I’ve learned I’m a bit of a Glamper – I don’t like to sacrifice the little niceties to live the nomadic lifestyle. If this paragraph hasn’t bored you to tears and you want to know more, you can learn about my travels here, me here, and get zombie t-shirts and stuff here. What? Everyone needs zombie stuff.)

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

The varmint inside my RV…

Thump – thump – thump. (silence) Thump – thump – thump. (silence)

All night long it went, coming from somewhere under my rig, but within the chassis or walls.

The loudness of the thumps indicated it was probably a squirrel. It seemed to pull on something (such as my wiring!) and as its body jerked back with the motion, it would hit the wall behind it.

I didn’t find where it was getting in, but I did manage to get rid of the little monster for the rest of the night and finally get back to sleep.

As soon as it was late enough the following morning so as not to piss off my neighbors, I turned on the generator, started the engine and let both run for 30 minutes while I pulled the slides in and the jacks up. Then I covered the area beneath my rig with mothballs, and got an ultrasonic pest control device. So far, so good.

But I’ve learned my copilot who can’t read maps, isn’t much of a pest deterrent, either. *sigh*

Checkers the RV copilot who can't read maps. Or be bothered with squirrels.

The welcome varmint inside my RV: “Look, Ma! I’m guarding the bed.” Yup, no squirrels will get on the bed now. The bed is safe.

 

The varmint outside my RV…

As a single female with long blond hair (which is both my superpower and my Kryptonite), I But, wait! There’s more…

How Not to Ask Me For a Date

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Mostly, I get wonderful, sweet and praising emails from you folks. I save them all.

Sometimes the BS I get in my inbox requires a special rant. This is one of those times.

Let's Play Carpenter ..first we'll get hammered and then I'll nail you.

Let's Play Carpenter... or not.

As the Match.com Dating Chronicles and Dating Exiled Royalty attest, my love life has been nothing if not interesting. Dating still seems to me one of the strangest activities. It’s like a prolonged interview, and you don’t really know if there’s even a job for you.

Needless to say, my experiences, especially those with Match.com, have left me leery of dating in general. Most especially of internet dating in particular.

While I do get asked out fairly regularly, it takes a special person and a special request to get a “yes” out of me. In the last two weeks I’ve received several requests over the internet for a date, or a general indication of interest. A couple are worthy of a “Yes”, but we’ll discuss those in the next post.

Would-be suitors take note: Included herein are the don’ts of asking for a date. There are ways to ask a lady out to get a “yes”, and ways to be assured you’re turned down. If you want a quick hookup, just go to the bar and don’t waste her (read: my) time.

Like this article recommends, calling someone over the phone is much better than asking for a date over the internet or, Heaven forbid, via text. If I don’t know you, emailing is appropriate while we get to know each other. However, if I’ve given you my number, a phone call is much better.  Someday you will have to pick up that phone if you want to date me.

The first couple requests for “dates” were from married men I know.  But, wait! There’s more…

God Grant Me The Senility

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

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.)

The new job? Sucks balls. Well, some of it sucks balls. Big fuckin’ hairy balls. (The actual marketing parts of the job are great fun.) But, wait! There’s more…