Healthy

The guy I was traveling with is a vegetarian. I asked him why. He said "I love animals and hate vegetables."

I Kicked A Mouse to Death

We went grocery shopping today. We took Bebe. He waited in the car. When we got home Bebe ran to make a pee-pee. After he was done with his business he started playing with something in the grass. Everytime his paw went out to touch the thing he would jump back. It was cute until I walked over to see what he was playing with. A MOUSE! YIKES! If I was holding a broom and a chair was around I would have jumped on it and screamed. The mouse was about 2 inches big and his tail was about 5 feet long. He was little and gray. Bebe licked it.

After I threw up 76 times because I love to kiss Bebe - those days are over unless he gets a lip transplant. The mouse was limping. His little arm, paw, mouse claw was injured. He was making a little mouse sound. Bebe was loving it. He was putting his paw on the mouse and having the time of his life. Finally, Bebe found something smaller than himself and he was going to enjoy torturing it.

I kicked the mouse 3 times because:

1. I didn't want him to find the inside of my house.

2. I didn't want Bebe to eat it.

3. I didn't want it to bite Bebe.

4. Should I go on listing reasons?

Yeah, I kicked the mouse. Call PETA, Humane Society, Oakland County Animal Shelter, Michael Vick...

I killed him. I was sad for about .1 seconds.

He's in a better place. I'm a killer.

Hello Charles!

I love Charles Pugh. He's the sharpest dresser on TV. He talks well and on the radio he's an articulate guy. He states his opinions so well. On his radio show in the morning on 97.9 if it's windy outside he says "wig alert." If a car is stuck on the freeway causing a traffic jam he says something funny about that. He has "Pugh's Perspective" and talks about some good ole stuff. I have been following him since he started. He's on Channel 2 (remember Channel 2 before we got cable?) and I love to watch him do his thang.

He was thinking of running for Mayor of Detroit. Now just a spot with City Counsel. He's well liked in the city. He's gay but that has nothing to do with just how awesome he is.

While working at the Obama Rally on Sunday, guess who I ran into reporting on the rally? Charles Pugh! I waited for him to finish reporting. He came up to me and gave me the biggest hug and kiss. Holy guacamole did he smell good! Some of his cologne rubbed off on me during our bear hug and I was smelling him all day. He was so friendly and well dressed. We stood around and talked. I gave him some Obama pins (sold some to the camera men) and set off on my way. He left such a great impression.

I hope he wins a seat on the City Counsel. If I lived in Detroit I would vote for him. I would make pins that say "JEW FOR PUGH" and sell them around the city.

I just wanted everyone to know...he's one great guy! "Who? Pugh!"

I'm Back!

You didn't know I was gone but I'm back. I'm happy to be home. I'm happy to be sitting in front of my computer telling you this story.

Thursday night I answered an ad to work on Sunday. In Detroit. For the Obama Rally. That night I was on my way to North Carolina.

How did I get there you say? I wasn't planning this trip. I had no urge to go to North Carolina but there I was. Guys with gold teeth everywhere. Accents thick as stew. Beautiful scenery and nice people. We were in the bible belt.

I used to sell Obama pins/buttons for this functioning drunk named Bill. I found him in June. At Hart Plaza. I sold pins for him and made a ton of money in just 3 hours. It was fun! I was addicted to the money. Bill asked me to sell glow sticks for him at local fireworks. I did. The money was great! Easy work. I get to use my loud mouth. Money flows in.

Bill and I got into an arguement because I asked him to give me some buttons to sell in Farmington for the Obama rally and he told me to stay in my place as a seller. Don't be his secretary. I was just trying to help him. He got offended. He must have been drunk.

Bill called me sweet as pie to work at the McCain rally at Freedom Hill. I worked. The Republicans - not as nice as the Democrats - not as fun - were so stuffy and snobby. They were cheap. Most of them came to the rally wearing suits and dresses. How fun is that? Amongst 3,000 people there was one black couple and everyone looked at them like they had the plague. Even me.

Bill called me to work at the Grand Rapids Rally. He never called me back with the details. I was done with Bill. This past weekend I found out that Bill was a crackhead. All the money we were making was going to his addiction. I shouldn't care because I got my cut of the profits but Bill drove from state to state selling these buttons and making serious cash. Enough to retire until the next election but he loved his drink and smoke too much. Dumb ass Bill.

While working for Bill I met some 31 year old Hippies. Man (Daniel) and wife (Casey.) SO nice and so cool. They don't drink. Do drugs. They both sport dredlocks. They were a perfect cute couple. They were all about money. The wife did henna tattoos. The man sold Obama tee shirts. They would be at every rally. Bill knew them from traveling around. Told them I was his best seller.

Thursday night I answered an ad to work at the Obama rally on Sunday in Detroit. Turns out the ad was posted by Dennis the Hippie. He was so happy he found me. I was so happy I found him. He told me he was planning on stealing me from Bill next time he saw me. Dennis asked me what I was doing tonight. I told him going to sleep pretty soon since it was 9:30 p.m. He told me to get up. Come to their hotel room and go to North Carolina with them for an Obama rally. I asked a million questions. Bobby drove me to where they were and we left. We drove to Columbus first to pick up the merchandise. We slept there. Then off to NC! It was SO fun. In a minivan sat Nicole from Miami, Bob from California, Louis from the Bahama's and yours truly. All of the greatest sellers from around the globe that he's picked up here and there during his travels. We had a blast. Eating at gas stations. Seeing the sights. Making jokes and just being carefree. We drove through boring Ohio, West Virginia and beautiful Virginia. OH GOD I LOVE THAT PLACE! We got to Greensboro, NC and settled in a nice room. Nicole and I in one room and the guys in the other. Nicole and I bonded right away in Ohio. She is such a sweet person. We set up the next day and sold our butts off. We pounded the pavement. We talked to so many nice southerners. The people so excited to see Obama. Us so excited to take their money. The speech Obama made gave me goosebumps. He spoke - they had speakers so the entire city could hear. There were about 10,000 people at this rally and the entire city was quiet while he spoke. It was truly a life moving experience. Someone passed out in the front row. Obama stopped his speach until EMS came to make sure they were alright. A true gentleman. 30 Secret Servicemen on top of all the tall buildings holding huge guns...scanning the audience. Police everywhere. The moment was so intense. History. Ya gotta love it.

After the speech we sold buttons like crazy. People were crying. People were holding hands. People were hugging. I stood there amazed.

We packed up drove to the airport and flew back home. My entire trip was paid for by Dennis. My food was paid for. I came home with money. I saw part of the United States that I've never seen before and was paid for it. Life is grand.

Nicole slept at my house that night. She has been traveling with Dan for weeks. Sleeping in hotel rooms. No clean clothes. No real food. I guess the Hippies don't wash clothes. They bought new ones when the clothes were too dirty to wear anymore.

I washed Nicoles clothes, I gave her my daughters bed to sleep in (she was sleeping at a friends house that night.) I made her comfy and she was so greatful!

Next day we woke up and headed downtown for the Detroit Rally. Since Obama has been to Detroit so many times no one needed anymore pins or tee-shirts. We didn't make that much money but it was still fun. Obama has such a way with speaking. He moves the crowd. He appeals to so many. Our "Republicans for Obama" pins sold out.

After the Detroit Rally Dan asked me to go with them to Reno, California and Oregon tonight. All expense paid. Just come and sell. I really thought about it. How often do you get an offer like that? I don't think I'll be going but I may change my mind in the last hours. I love money and I love to travel. We leave tonight and come back Wednesday. It's tempting. I may just ditch the family and hop on a flight to Reno tonight.

Next election...watch out...Pam is opening up her own business!

Lot's O Computers

Our family of 5 now has 6 computers. My husband just got a new laptop and gave me his old one. I don't mind hand me downs. Like the safe I got for no good reason...I wanted a laptop...for no good reason. I want a boat next. Remember I said I don't mind hand me downs. A used boat is fine...as long as it stays a float.

My husband loves things that plug in or take batteries. He's an electronicaholic. We have ipods, digital picture frames, camcorders, digital cameras, an iphone, Blackberry, Treo, Palm Pilot, and Sirius. He even has a bank that takes batteries to calculate how much change he puts in. If the power ever goes out we'll be bored. We need a generator. We need a defibrillator. We need an electric car. Then I think we'll own every single thing that can be plugged in or take batteries. I'm shocked our electric bill isn't 10 million a month.

We have things we might never use. An electronic tree branch cutter that has a 20 foot pole, leaf blower, and a new addition...a Cuisinart Griller. The pots and pans closet already has a waffle maker, George Foreman grill, Wolfgang Puck grill and outside a propane grill and charcoal grill and no one BBQ's.

So, what do we need another laptop for? Because we have 98 power surge stips all over the house and one outlet left to plug one last thing in. I hope nothing else comes out. I hope no one invents something new to plug in. I hope our house doesn't blow up.

WOWEEEE!

Last week - I had the best day of my entire 40 years of life! I discovered Faygo (are you ready for this?) Lemonade & Iced Tea mixed!!!! Yes, you are reading right! It's true. I'm not making this up. When I saw the bottle I fainted. I got up. Looked at the bottle twice. Fainted again. Faygo's version of Arizona Iced Tea's Arnold Palmer. Hang on I feel another fainting spell phew...almost passed out again.

For those of you that don't know...I cannot have any caffeine. None. No chocolate, no coffee, no dark pop, no smoked foods (don't ask me-ask my doctor about that one), no hot tea, no hot chocolate...you get the point. I've suffered almost 15 years without having a piece of chocolate or tasted hot chocolate. My lips quiver for iced tea with a hint of mint. I would love to have a cup of coffee. I've never had Starbucks or those fancy shmancy drinks they serve. I've been deprived. Maybe it's good. I don't know what I'm missing. Sure there is herbal teas but nothing compares to the taste of just plain ole tea with some honey in it when you're sick.

Kraft made Postum (a coffee substitute) but just when I discovered it about 3 years ago...they took it off the shelf. DAMN!

Back to the Faygo Lemonade/Iced Tea mix...my mouth is watering. Wasn't Faygo cheap? It's $1.49 for a 2 liter but that doesn't stop me. I love it. It's so good. I bet it tastes nothing like a real Arnold Palmer but I'll never know what a real one tastes like anyway. This new Faygo is caffeine free and that's all I care about.

There is one problem. You can only buy it in Detroit. You can't find it anywhere in these parts. I don't mind. Some people drive to Detroit for their hair care products because there isn't any good beauty supply stores around here. Some people drive to Detroit for drugs but I drive there for Faygo. I buy 4 2 liters and one little bottle. I drink the little bottle on the way home. I put my 2 liters in the seat next to me and put the seat belt on them. God forbid anything happen to them.

I remember my Aunt Sharon LOVED Faygo Peach pop. She hated the carbonation so she would stir and stir the pop in her glass so the fizz would go away. Then she found Hi-C Peach drink. No carbonation with the peach flavor. She was so happy (like I feel right now) they discontinued that flavor. I felt so bad for her.

My grandparents would buy seltzer water. They would deliver it to the house (I think) and it would squirt out of a cool metal spout. The bottles were recycled. I remember they used to drink it and burp so loud the curtains would blow like a 180 mph wind passed by. Seltzer water in the fancy glass bottle became too expensive so they stopped buying it. They had blinds on the window by then but I'm sure the burps that were belted out would have bent the blinds sideways.

Faygo was always a side item to all of the Cokes and Pepsi's. I think now it's becoming more popular than it ever was. It must be if they can charge $1.49 for it when Coke and Pepsi products are only .99 cents.

Since all of my favorites get taken off the shelf or discontinued I decided to dedicate 1/2 of my garage to Faygo Iced Tea/Lemonade. The car can stay outside. The lawn mower, snow blower and bikes can sit out all winter. Too bad my safe isn't big enough and refrigerated because I would put it in there. My own private stock.

That's MINE!

This picture has nothing to do with this story. I just liked it. Funny isn't it?

I've been fighting again. This time it was for a good reason. Last week Briana wanted to go see her school -vs- the other schools football team. It was Friday night. I dropped her off so she could meet her friends there. I gave her my OAA Pass (Oakland Athletic Association) you & another person get into any Oakland Athletic game for free. Money is tight and I couldn't afford the $10.00 ($5 for the game plus $5 to eat the junk they sell.)

At the ticket booth they told her to show her pass at the gate. She did. They took the pass. I had to go through hell and high water to get that pass. That pass gets me into all of her Volleyball games for free. They are supposed to look at the pass and give it back to her. They kept it. She text messaged me "Pam, they took and kept the pass." I was long gone already and didn't feel like going back again. I did my grocery shopping then headed back to get my daughter and my pass.

I went to the ticket booth. They directed me to the gate. I asked the gate people where my pass was. They told me they didn't know. I started to feel my anger boiling. "WHO THE PASS THAT YOU TOOK FROM MY DAUGHTER????"

They rushed to find out who took it.

The Athletic Director came to the gate to speak to me.

ME: You have my pass and I'd like it back.
AD: You know kids aren't allowed to use the pass.
ME: I didn't know that.
AD: I'm really not allowed to give it back to you.
ME: OH yeah? I really think you should give it back to me.
AD: Where did you get it from?
ME: Listen, I don't want to cause problems. Please give me my pass back.
AD: I was just wondering where you got it from.
ME: I'm Rona Glenn's....
AD: (interrupting me) YOU AREN'T RONA GLENN! I KNOW RONA GLEN AND YOU AREN'T HER!
ME: If you would let me finish my sentance I was going to tell you I'm Rona Glenn's secretary at Oak Park High School. THAT'S HOW I GOT THE PASS!
AD: OH cuz I knew you weren't Rona Glenn. I know Rona Glenn. She's the AD at Oak Park High School. She's black. I just knew you weren't....
ME: Would you please be quiet and give me back my pass?
AD: All you had to do was say where you got the pass from.
ME: Listen lady...I don't know your name. I really don't care who you are. You took my OAA pass and I want it back right now. I have things to do and I don't feel like standing here arguing with you.
AD: Well, you know I'm not supposed to give it back to you.
ME: I'll tell you what. If you don't give it back to me we're going to be having
problems that are way bigger than an OAA pass. I suggest you give it back to me right now or I'll make this entire football game stop playing. Trust me on this.

I got my pass back.

Whatcha Cookin?

This might have been the same day as when we picked out the pool. I bet it wasn't.

I was standing at the stove cooking Stove Top Stuffing and in walks 5 year old Briana.

Briana: What are you making?

Pam: Kaa-Kaa

I continued cooking. Laughing to myself for saying Kaa-Kaa (another name for poop.) I liked having fun. Briana didn't know what Kaa-Kaa meant.

I finished cooking, put everything on the table and told everyone to come and get it. Everyone took their place at the table. After everyone had their plates full of food we started eating. It was very quiet. All of a sudden Briana bursts out and says..."YUUUUMMMMM!! I love Kaa-Kaa!!"

The Pool

When Briana was just a tiny tot she wanted a little pool. We went to Target to find one. There were so many pools to pick from. We went up and down the aisle searching for the perfect pool.

Pam: OHH look at this one! The sides are clear!

Briana: I don't like that one.

Pam: What about this one? Snoopy is on the bottom!

Briana: It's a boy pool.

Briana: Look at this one. I like this one.

Pam: $349.99? With a pump? Let's pick out a less expensive one.

Briana: This one! This one! It comes with the water!

She thought the pool already came with the water since the picture showed a family swimming.

Kids!

Cheap Viagra

I'm tired of getting junk mail. I set my preferences to avoid spam but it keeps on coming through. They know my name, my address and the fact that I would like my penis enlarged. No, I don't have a penis. If I did have one...I don't think I would let a spam e-mail talk me into buying those pills. Hopefully, if I had a penis it would be a big one.

Today while cleaning I would take breaks and sit at my computer desk. All day long I received these e-mails:

Book a Myrtle Beach golf package, get a gas card.

Eliminate Debt today

Get a rich beautiful lawn. As seen on TV

Get a cash advance online now

Regain your confidence with medical hair restoration

Save 70% on life insurance

Discover how you can live until 150

Become a Google Millionaire

and my favorite

Get cash for your unwanted jewelry

What idiot would put their jewelry in an envelope in hopes of getting money back- let alone your jewelry! I'm going to put some bubble gum machine rings and necklaces in an envelope and mail it to them tomorrow. Let's see how long I have to wait to get that fat check.

I'm going to open a P.O. box under the name - Phil A. Mignon - E-mail millions of people with the title: SEND IN YOUR WINNING LOTTERY TICKETS AND I'LL PAY YOU DOUBLE!

You guys can sit there and laugh all you want but I bet at least 10 people out of a million will send me their winning tickets.

Anyone want to go partners with me? I have several names you can pick from.

Crystal Stemware

Curt Sanway

Gabe Barr

Sadie Word

D. John Mustard

Uben Hadd

Freida Convict

Let me know if you're interested!

Blog for Blog

I like writing my Blogs. I have no idea who made this up. Why didn't they call it an e-journal? What is a "Blog." What does it mean? When I type the word blog in an e-mail the word gets highlighted, red lines form under it and spell check goes crazy. Did you mean "log, bog, belong, oblong?" It's annoying. My spelling and punctuation sucks already. I don't need the extra headache of spell check trying to fix something I know is right.

I started out reading my sisters blog. It's so funny. She writes so great. Her words just flow and I love reading her entries. I recently got some more links to other people's blogs and I must say. It's so entertaining. Dennis is SO funny. Daves pictures are awesome. Why don't more people that I know blog? It's nice to write random things. I enjoy thinking of things to write during the day.

At first I was in awe of Facebook. Finding friends I haven't seen or spoken to in so long. Since I've been blogging I haven't gone on Facebook in a long time.

My first real computer experience in the early 90's made me an addict. We had it at work and I would stay after work and just be an internet junkie. I would really rack up the overtime hours. Everyone left for the day and I was still in my office scanning through webpages and learning all I could about being online. It was great!

My friend Ann doesn't know how to turn on a computer let alone type or find out some info. She calls me or asks her 11 year old daughter. There is an entire world in here. Unlimited info and fun. When people ask what you would take if you were stranded on an island...my answer would be A COMPUTER! Does the island have electricity? Do they make a crank up computer? Solor powered? Who ever plans on being in a deserted island? Actually...that's a dumb question!

Is it Safe in There?

I needed a safe. I wanted a safe. I had to have one. I bought one. It was very heavy and hard to get up the stairs once I got home. I put it near my bed and opened it up. I filled out the paperwork that came with it. You have to do this just in case you lose a key and have to get back in there. You get two keys. I gave the other key to Brandi. Don't try to bribe her for the key. I gave her the spare but didn't tell her where I hid the safe. LMAO! If I die and they start cleaning my things out of the house...they'll find it.

I opened the safe and got ready to put some things in it. I looked and looked. I don't have any important papers. I don't have wads of loose cash. I wear my good jewelery. There wasn't anything to put in it. What did I need a safe for? I put my birth certificate in it. I thought again. If someone breaks in the house why would they steal a birth certificate? I took it out. I looked around again and again. What do people put in a safe? The box the safe came in had a picture on it. Let's see what they put in it. A passport ( mine expired). Precious jewels that I don't have. A gun. Nope, I don't have one of those. Cash. Who would steal my $22.00? There is a handle on the safe. I'm thinking that if someone came in the house to rob us they could just carry the safe out. How safe is that?

I have nothing to put in my safe. How exciting it wouldn't be if I died and the kids were cleaning out my stuff and came across my safe. "OHHH" they would say. Then they would open in...nothing. How disappointing.

I had to put something in there. I have about $50.00 in rolled coins. I put it in the safe. Now I couldn't carry it to put it in my secret hiding place.

I either need some valuables or return the safe.

Let's do Detroit!

Yesterday I felt like doing Detroit stuff. I woke up early. A friend had to go to court. I tagged along. 36 District isn't a fun place. You wait in line to wait in line. There's a guy at the door when you first walk in. He's LOUD. He's tall. He's HUGE. It's his job to say "If you have a cell phone with a camera it's not allowed in, If you have a purse or briefcase make sure you get a sticker. Gentlemen please remove your belts. No lighters allowed in the building." He repeated it over and over again. He kept that line in line. You didn't want to mess with him. He looked really mean. Once you get in you have to wait again. You go to the courtroom and wait again. You wait and wait and wait. 3 hours later without the judge ever showing his face...we were done. Time to wait in another line to check out. So many people in that building-I couldn't believe it. We saw prostitutes (come on you know what they look like) We saw the homeless. What a place for people watching. It was fun.

After court my friend had to get back to work. I decided to say downtown and do some Detroit stuff. I had my fishing stuff in the trunk. I went fishing. Got bored. Went to Better Made Potato Chips on Gratiot. OH GOD does that place smell good! Not open on Mondays for customers. DAMN! Faygo was down the street so I stopped there. The public isn't allowed to shop there. The truck driver guy told me "every party store or grocery store in the area sells Faygo." How rude! I knew that already. I wanted to buy my Faygo from the source. I thought it might taste different. I'll never know.

I didn't know what else to do. The Eastern Market was close by but window shopping didn't sound like fun and my money was low. You just can't go to the Eastern Market and not spend at least $100.

I went home.

I Loved Lucy

3 years ago we decided to get a small dog. I looked and looked. I scanned the website Petfinder.com for months. I answered ads on Craigslist, newspapers and even went to the city office to see if there were any postings. You could say I was obsessed!


Finally, after adding my name to the long list at the shelters of people wanting to adopt a small dog someone called me from the Bloomfield Hills Animal Shelter. There was an elderly couple that had a poodle mix they couldn't take care of anymore. They couldn't walk her and didn't have the energy to play with her. I called the number the shelter gave me to talk to Lucy's owners.

My friend Ann was with me when I called. They asked if I could come right over to have an interview with Lucy's parents.

My mom, Ann, and I jumped in the car and went to Lucy's house. The couple was so nice. Beautiful home, beautiful furnishings and beautiful Lucy. She was so cute and so happy to see us. We all fell in love with her. After several hours of making sure we were the right people to take precious Lucy they handed her over to us along with her bowls, food, and a few more of Lucy's belongings. LUCY WAS OURS! We were so happy! The lady cried. I told her I could give her my phone number so she could visit or just check on her. The lady decided it would be too hard.

We took Lucy home. We had so much fun with her. She would play and make us laugh. A month went by and one day I opened the door to get the mail and Lucy jetted. She ran and ran. I scanned the streets, made signs, sat outside for hours waiting for Lucy to come back. I called, I wrote ads, I did everything I could to find her. She was gone. Lucy was wearing the cutest pink outfit and a $45.00 Coach collar. OHHH Lucy better come back!

We cried, we felt so bad. The kids missed her. I missed her.

It's been 3 years. Tonight, I saw my friend Ann and we were talking. She stopped in the middle of her sentance and said..."Do you know what? Lucy's parents are sitting at their dinner table right now so comfortable knowing that they made the right decision to give Lucy to you. They gave us a 2 hours interview and cried when Lucy left." WOW, I didn't think about Lucy in a long time. She took off and didn't even leave a thank you note for the nice collar she took with her.

The Doll

Barbie is a bitch. She owns everything. She's cute, skinny and never has to worry about what to wear. Her make-up and hair is always perfect (unless your little sister cuts all of her hair off.) She has her own jet, camper, Mercedes, Corvette, has loyal friends and her boyfriend Ken has been around since 1937. She's a bitch. She's a lesbian. I know because one time in 1972 my friend Marnie and I made her kiss Midge.

Today I took my daughter to get her homecoming dress. In the parking lot I saw Barbie crushed by car tires. Barbie, with oil stains on her dress, hair a mess, one leg obviously broken..the bitch was still smiling. Does nothing make her unhappy? She got ran over in the parking lot of T.J. Max! By a car! She's still happy as hell! I kicked Barbie and made her flat smiling face fly across the parking lot. She was over by Radio Shack now. We shopped. She found what a 14 year old considers a perfect dress then as we were coming out of the store guess who I bumped into. Barbie. I leaned over and asked Barbie what in the hell was she doing over here. I thought I dropped her off by Radio Shack. My daughter thought I was crazy. I told her "Barbie is following me. I just kicked her plastic ass down to the handicapped section by Radio Shack and she's back." Briana looked at me like I was crazy. I laughed and picked Barbie up. She looked a mess. "EWWWW" my daughter said when I picked her up. I took Barbie by her head and threw her in the garbage. She should have a proper burial. I didn't want to risk the chance of running into her again when we came out of Coney Island. That would have been too scarry!

Did We Catch You?

I think we caught our little friend. The trap snapped shut. Who's going to go up there and get it? Not me. I wasn't scared to put the trap up there but I'm sure as hell scared to go see what we caught. I don't hear the cage moving around. Wouldn't it sound like something was trying to get out? Did the animal take the bacon and scram? Should we wait until we smell something rotting? Should we wait until maggots, flys and worms start appearing on our ceiling?

I'm going to Home Depot and getting some heavy duty, thick as hell, metal finger gloves. Then I'm going to get a suit of armour and make my husband put it all on and send him up there. What if the family of the animal we caught is standing there around the cage, in a row, arms crossed tapping their feet waiting for Bobby? Maybe Bebe will go up first this time. I would rather he got mulled. We can always get another dog but I can't take the chance I'll find another rich husband. WOW, that was funny...I hope he isn't reading this.

When I find out what was caught i'll report back to you. You might get something in the mail... an invitation for a nice Coon dinner with all the fixin's.

Thank You

Well, majority rules. I keep on writing. Thanks to everyone for the positive comments. I appreciate them.

Dave and Dennis please send me links to your blogs. I will read them faithfully.

Have a good one and stay tuned for more of...INSIDE THE WORLD OF PAMELA!

Is anyone out there?

This might be my last blog entry.

Seems like my sister Alisa and my friend Darlene are the only people that read it.

I feel like I'm writing for nothing.

I'm not the type to entertain only 2 people. I need a crowd. I need feedback.

So, if you're reading my blog. Please make a comment. Make me feel special. If you don't know how to leave a comment...learn. There is a help box on this site. Use it!

Leave your name when/if you write a comment.

Are the things I write boring, dumb or fun? I don't know because there isn't anyone telling me anything.

I feel like prune juice. It's on the shelf but everyone passes it by.

The A List

This is a picture of a prison bakery. Funny huh? Where is OJ Simpson? He must have been on break.

I cannot stand Martha Stewart. She's a bad speaker. She is a bad dresser and I hear she's mean as hell to her employees. K-mart and Macy's carry her "designer" name. To me she's boring.

I listen to her daughter and her daughters friend. They have a radio show on Sirius. They talk about Martha like a dog on there and I love every minute of it. Her daughter's name is Alexis and her friends name is Jennifer. Alexis sounds exactly like Sandra Bernhart (how ever she spells her last name) and her friend Jennifer has a whiny voice. They are funny as hell. The show is called "Whatever" with Alexis and Jennifer. The show talks about "Whatever." People call in and they talk about things that aren't important. The show is 2 hours long and it's very entertaining.

Back to Martha. She has a magazine, 3 TV shows, her blogs are as fun as reading a blank book and her line of items at Macy's and K-mart sell look like trash. Poorly made and expensive as hell.

I thought she was a criminal. Why are people ohhhing and ahhhing over her? To me...she's like Rosie O. I don't know why - they just remind me of each other. What I'm trying to say is that she's not so nice. She served time but that doesn't erase what she's done. I don't like her one bit. Have you noticed?

Michael Jackson...not even going to mention him. Sadaam Hussain...dead.

OJ Simpson (not pictured) is in deep sha noo noo. I hope he goes to jail forever. We all know he killed Nicole and Frank, Jack, Bill...whatever his name is. If he doesn't go to jail this time I'm moving outta the USA. Things aren't fair. There are honest people out there that have a little blemish on their file but can't find a job. I think the A list people that make "mistakes" shouldn't be allowed to let the world know it's ok and we support them. All of us don't get the same treatment. Does money talk? You bet your sweet boody it does.

I'm going to go out and cause a major disturbance, make the cover of USA Today, Wall Street Journal and maybe make the cover of Time Magazine. Then I'll come out with my own line of patio furniture. I'll be forgiven. I'll be famous.

Buh Bye

Buh Bye you crook. You cheater. You lier. You got exactly what you deserve even though they were too light on your ass. 4 months in the slammer is too good for you.

I liked you. I liked what you were all about. Many of us liked you. Look at you now.

I hope when you're done serving your time you pack up your family and move. No one wants to see your face around these parts no mo'.

Your momma is a loud mouth. She needs to go too. Your wife is dumb for staying with you. Your kids are going to be shamed if they decide to stay in Detroit.

Today was your last day as Mayor. See ya. I know they won't but I hope you get a big ding dong in your stink purse since you F'ed us over maybe you should get the same.

Hello? Is Anyone Up There?

There is a party going on right now. It's in my house, upstairs and I'm not invited. I'm not feeling bad about it either.

Every morning there is a loud "thud" on my ceiling. I know it's not a squirrel because they don't weigh enough to "thud" when they land. This has to be a raccoon, oppossuim or a midget. I'm going with my first thought...a raccoon. I was thinking about putting Bebe up there to make sure.

We went to Home Depot and bought a live animal trap. Again, I wanted Bebe to go in the trap to to make sure it worked but decided against it. Bobby put a few pieces of bacon in the trap. The directions said to put raw fish in the trap but could you imagine the smell fish would make if the raccoon didn't go in the cage for a week? He might just move out on it's own because of the stench.

Back to the trap with the yummy bacon. The trap was taken to the attic by me. I'm not scared. I don't know why...I'm just not. I could use a raccoon hat if it just so happens to land on my head. I walked up the stairs the pull down thingy provides and looked around with a flashlight. We blocked all the doors in case the raccoon, possum or midget decided to fly down and out the door. I looked and looked. I saw nothing. I made raccoon noises. I didn't see any movement or hear any sounds. The coast was clear. I placed the trap and came down the attic stairs. We waited. It's been about 14 hours and I haven't heard the trap door snap shut. I hear the raccoon walking around upstairs and I'm sure he smells the bacon. Did he want eggs with that? Toast? Nah, they eat garbage...bacon will be good enough. I sit. I wait. I made a BLT.

It's that Time of the Year Again!

It was that time of the year. I hate going to the movies. I hate popcorn. The smell of it makes me sick. The seats that no one cleans and everyone puts their heads on it. Lice, unshampooed hair, hair grease, gel and who knows what else. It turns me off. The sticky floor, the LOUD speakers and the 80 previews they show before the movie makes me not want to go. My husband LOVES the movies and has seen just about every single one of them. We are opposites. Not only in that department but this is the department we're talking about.

I love Tyler Perry movies and a new one just came out. I had to see it. We went. There were 4 people in the show and that included us. I like it that way.

I sat there. The theater said the movie starts at 6:05 but the movie didn't start until almost 6:30. I'm not patient. My back hurts me to sit in one place for long. I forgot since the last time I went to the movies (a year ago) that the show time on Movie Fone doesn't mean the movie starts at that exact time. I made a mental note of it.

The movie was great. A true chick flick. Nice and slow with a great girlie plot, a romance and a few sad parts. I shed 2 tears because the movie was touching.

I never understood why people still stay in their seats while the credits are running. Are they trying to get the most for their money? As soon as the movie ends I'm outta there.

So, next time I go to the movies which will most likely be Fall of 2009 I will make sure I don't show up 10 minutes early to see the "PLEASE SILENCE YOUR PHONE" ad 30 times.

Go see the movie! I give it two boobies up.

It's Time to Take a Stand!

Ladies- you will be horrified by this message. It's not pretty and it's not cute.

I'm assuming you all know who Vera Wang is. If you don't know who she is...I'll tell ya.

She's only the mega designer of Haute Couture to the stars. She designs bridal gowns (not wedding dresses) for anyone that can afford a $25,000.00 one. She's the one you go to if you want to look like a million bucks for a million bucks. She's the fashion icon. She's the "it girl." She's Vera Wang.

Why would someone SO popular and talented sell her clothes at Khols? They're motto at Khols is "Expect Great Things." Yeah, but not so great as to sell Vera Wang clothes! We're talking Vera Wang! A Vera Wang dish is $325.00. JUST a dish! No saucer. No bowl. No platter. I bet Donald Trump doesn't even have VW dishes.

Just to prove how outstanding VW is - I have a little story. My sister and neice were shopping at Nordstroms or Neiman Marcus. I don't remember which one. Her and I were talking on the phone. My sister kept saying hold on and then telling my neice "stop touching. Leave that alone. Stand back from those. Keep your hands on your side." I said to my sister "Boy, you aren't any fun shopping with." So she replied "She's touching Vera Wang dishes!!!" I understood.

So, we all agree that Vera Wang shouldn't be in Khol's, right? I hear her 2nd rate clothing isn't nice at all. I hate Khol's and even more now.

My next issue. WHY oh WHY is Norma Kamali selling her clothes outta Walmart? It's not bad enough that EVERYTHING at Walmart is from China. Norma Kamali is supposed to be an Italian designer. Not a designer for hicks and hillbillies. What is she doing at Walmart? If you shop at Walmart MORE POWER TO YA - no disrespect but you've seen who walks up and down Walmart aisles.

I love sushi. Japanese restaurants sell sushi. I would not order sushi from Burger King or Ponderosa. Get my point?

Someone needs to line up Vera Wang and Norma Kamali in the dressing room of Sears, and slap them both with a wire hanger.

Games People Play

I 1 the toilet
I 2 the toilet
I 3 the toilet
I 4 the toilet
I 5 the toilet
I 6 the toilet
I 7 the toilet
I 8 the toilet
EWWW you ate the toilet!!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember that game? It was fun. My kids and I still do it. I did it before giving them medicine but now we do it while we're in the car. We have so many "fun" games we play. I still laugh. They think I'm an idiot. My kids and I have many games, hand squeezes and other "secrets" I can't mention on here. I do these things to let them know they are safe and I am here. Heart touching isn't it?

We have different things we do for different situations. When my kids are nervous we have a secret hand squeeze. When my kids are having a personal problem we call it "having an episode" and when they are sad we have a special place to go and talk about it. Usually, it's in Brandi's room.

On the not so fun side...

My kids know I'm crazy. I will blow up at anyone at anytime if someone does or says something to my kids that I don't like. I've made many enemies with this explosive behavior. It's bad. Lately, if I have to go into the school office they jump for me. They know I'm crazy. I teach my kids not to do this and it's not right but I can't help myself.

Briana left for school today wearing a cute outfit. She called me 5 minutes ago. "Pam, they said I can't wear the pants I have on. Could you bring me another pair?" I told her that if she doesn't want me to come there and flip the entire school upside down she'll put the person that said she couldn't wear the pants on the phone. She knows better because I will argue and yell at that person because NOTHING is wrong with the pants she has on. If I let her leave the house wearing those pants...she will be wearing those pants the entire day. The pants are black sweat pants with the word "PINK" on the butt. What's wrong with them? I told her to go back to class. She hasn't called me back.

There are many times I had to go into school to fight and argue with principals, teachers and hall monitors. They stopped calling me. I know why. They have her call me now. I don't blame them.

I know the rules. I read the rules. We follow the rules. You want to make up new rules? Put it in writing. You can't just make up new rules when you want to. According to the dress code...there is nothing that says you can't wear sweat pants with writing on the butt.

I don't pose a threat. When I get ready to leave the office everyone is thanking ME! They tell me they are sorry. When I walk out - they talk about me for the rest of the day. I know that. I'm fine with it.

Brandi called me the other day during her work break. "Pam, there is this lady at work and she's so mean to me. Will you come here and beat her up?"

I put on my red cape. It's my game and sometimes I just do it to see the reaction on peoples faces when I open my mouth and the words just start flowing out. Their eyes bug out, they take a step back and can't believe me. I hear my kid in the background cheering..."GO PAM, GO PAM..."

What's your Sign?

Hi, my name is Larry and I'm a Aries.

Hi Larry! My name is Beth and I'm a Gemini.

Who gives a shit?

I think astrological signs are dumb and people that actually believe in them are dumb too. Sorry Dionne Warwick. Sorry Latoya Jackson. Not sorry Horoscope section of the newspaper. Whatever it says in the newspaper could be for anyone. "You'll get a surprise today!" "You need more rest." blah blah blah.

Now, a fortune cookie...those are real. They tell the truth. They never lie. I believe in them. The Chinese Zodiac paper placemat you get at your table. That's true. I'm happy I'm a monkey because I would hate to be the Cock. I think anyone that is the Cock hates it too. Everything it says about me on that placemat is so true. Everything it says about my husband is true too.

Remember Zodiac jewelery? It's trying to make a comeback. It can stay in the past along with nugget rings, stirrup pants and the soft drink "Tab."

I am a Palm Reader. I am good. It all started one day at work when a security guard A.K.A. Hall Monitor was having troubles. He was a nice man and I felt bad. I told him I could figure out his problem if I could read his palm. He laughed and handed me his palm. This was totally a joke. I knew nothing about this man or palm reading but wanted to make him feel better and get a laugh outta him.

I looked at his palm and told him he had a kid no one knew about. I swear to you on my life - I was 9823759827372345% correct. He couldn't believe it...I couldn't believe it. We both looked at each other. He looked at me because he was in shock. I looked at him for the same reason. I kid you not. This is the truth.

I took my unknown talent on the road. I read palms at DTE Energy. In the VIP section before opening acts to keep the VIP's entertained. I made over $100 in tips in one hour. There was a cultural show at OPHS. I set up one table & two chairs. My little table was the most popular attraction at the entire show. The Arabic table with all of it's elaborate food, decorations, and music...no one was even looking at it. The table from Mexico all jazzed up with candy and fancy quilts...no one even noticed. My line was so long and so many people gathering around it was crazy! I was told not to come back.

I had teachers that I worked with have me come to their cars and read their palms during breaks. I was right on the money. I told them things no one knew. I read their fortunes.

I don't know how this happened. I don't take it as special powers and I don't read the palm of anyone I know.

Ask anyone about my ability to palm read and they'll tell you. I'm an expert.

This is not a joke. This is 100% for real. People ask me all of the time to read their palms. I love to do it.

So, how can anyone pick up a newspaper, open up to the Horoscope section and actually think that it's talking to them? There are about 100,000 people that read the Free Press. Sounds kinda funny don't you think?

Anyone want to know what my sign is? It's DOLLAR SIGN!

CAKE!!!!!!!!

Cake is good. No, cake is GREAT! It's fun to make. Yummy to smell baking and delish to eat. I think we can all agree to that.

Our entire house is trying to lose weight. Still, I baked a cake today. I made it to test our strength. Oh hell...who am I kidding? I had a craving for a piece of butter cream cake with carmel frosting. I wanted to spoil everyone's diet because i'm selfish.

I had all of the stuff in the house already so why not? As I was mixing the stuff together...hating Betty Crocker and her ability to make a picture look so darn good. I wash hoping she was fat too.

Who's going to eat the first piece? Who's going to eat the most? Who's going off their diet first? Ha Ha...my game just began.

I lost first. Briana second. Bobby didn't really cheat on his diet that much since he took a small slice but he still put it to his lips. Opened his mouth and chewed. He swallowed. Not so tough after all.

Brandi was at work. Before work she puts on her workout tape. Get's on her big excercise ball and does her 30 minute workout. She watches what she eats. She has been doing good. She came home from work. Her dinner neatly placed in the fridge for her. When she saw the cake her eyes got big. I watched her. Waiting. Is she going to do it? Nah, she's been doing so well.

She sat at the kitchen table still eyeing the cake. "Pam, I want a treadmill for Christmas." She said. "I said "where are you going to put it?" She said "in my room." I told her there wasn't any room. She said "I really want a treadmill! I've been doing so good on my diet. A treadmill will help me and I want one." "You'll use it as a clothing rack after a week." I told her. "No I won't." She said. "I want some cake really bad but I'm not going to give in." Brandi said before I left the room. When I went back in the kitchen there was Brandi, with a slice of cake on her plate. "Pam, do we have any Ice Cream?"

I know...I'm a bad mom.

The cake is now gone. All of it eaten. The entire cake. Not a crumb left. The entire house is mad at me.

Now That Looks Like it Hurts!

I'm thinking that getting hit by an 18 wheeler that's going 70 mph on the freeway while you're crossing to the other side hurts. Having a piano fall on your head from 40 flights up would hurt too but none of those things compare to what happened to my little baby Bebe today.

Bebe needed his toenails cut and his ear hair plucked out and today was the day. If he knew what was going to happen to him this morning he wouldn't have gotten up so early. He woke up, took his morning stretch and followed me as I went into the bathroom. He loves to sit there and watch me naked. He might be the only one. As I got out of the shower he came over to the tub to lick the water that was left. AWWW how cute...he licks my bath water. Again...he might be the only one.

I was prepped and ready to go. Bebe was so happy to get in the car and go somewhere. He must have thought we were going to the mall or to get gas. Boy was he wrong.

I placed him in the Petsmart cart and until he got inside he was sitting there so nicely. He jumped up and demanded I hold him. I ditched the cart and walked with Bebe in my arms to the back of the store. The place he hates the most. The place where they administer pain. The place where the people aren't so nice. The place where they don't care.

Up on the platform where the doggies sit Bebe didn't want to go. He clung to me for life. He struggled to stay as close to me as he could. I had to let him go. First they gave him a nail clipping. He fought as hard as a 13 lb dog could. He wiggled, bit and cried. He got his nails cut anyway.

I am not happy with the way they do this at all and it kills me to see it and hear it but with Bebe being the Lhasa Apso that he is...he's going to have ear problems unless hair is taken out of his ears.

They put this stinky powder in his ears and literally pull the hair out with their fingers. Bebe cries, yelps and begs for them to stop. They have to hold him down. Crazy Glue and a vice couldn't hold him down. It took 2 men to attempt to do it and still he wouldn't let them. Bebe is a fighter. He finally lost the battle and had the hair pulled out. I had to wait outside. With my fingers in my ears. With my eyes shut. I could still hear him.

I went back in to get him. His eyes were red. He was panting and he looked like he was just in a fight with a 1,000 lb bear. Bebe was so happy to see me. He jumped in my arms and whispered in my ear "Bitch, if you ever make me go through that again - I'll kill you."

Rainbow of Paint.

When we moved into our house a brand new Home Depot opened 2 blocks away. Perfect timing for us since the house we moved into looked like the set of the Brady Bunch. The wallpaper was so old the pattern was hieroglyphics. Off we went to Home Depot to get some paint. That's when we met. He stood there so cute, so happy and ready to help. I was clueless to what color I wanted. But he had all of the answers. The second he opened his mouth I knew it. He knew color, he knew style, he knew how to decorate...he was gay. Nolan and I hit it off right from the start. We made each other laugh and couldn't stop talking. He wanted to come over and help decorate. We made plans but they never seemed to work out.

Over the past few months we had to go to Home Depot for this or that and I would always go because I loved talking to Nolan. I invited him for dinner several times but he couldn't come because he was a professional ice skater for Disney on Ice and had shows to do, practices and a Home Depot job to hold. I knew Nolans life. He told me everything he asked for advice. Nolan, even with his Home Depot smock on was a sharp dresser. His hair was always styled nice, nails clean as the board of health and face as cute as a button. On the front of his smock read the name "Gus." Why Gus I asked him. He said because he wanted to be known as a skater...not a Home Depot worker. When he would go out people would yell his name and say "Hey, you work at Home Depot." He hated that more than anything.

One year Bobby and I went to the Ribs and Soul Fest and we saw Nolan in line getting is ribs. The line was about 50 deep and he told us he was going to buy us ribs. We said no thanks. He said take cuts in front of me. We didn't want ribs and declined his offer. But we stood there in the hot sun talking to him while he was getting his ribs. Nolan was sharper than Coco Chanel, wearing a purse only a diva could get away with. Looking straight outta G.Q. he ate his ribs in the daintiest way to make sure the sauce didn't get on his $350.00 shirt.

Later on since we saw Nolan outside of his element we became closer. I would pick out some paint and he told me to get the best paint and he would mark the can as oops paint and put a $5.00 sticker on it.

A few months went by. We didn't need anything from Home Depot. Finally we decided to re-do the bathroom. On several trips to Home Depot I didn't see Nolan. I asked one of the associates where he was and they told me he died. He was 28 years old. He wasn't sick but had a heart attack. He wasn't on drugs, he didn't have HIV, he was fine the day before.

Today I went into Home Depot. I haven't been in there in so long but when I walked past the paint department I felt so sad. I miss my friend. I miss his smile and I miss our talks.

I'm sure he's in a rainbow of paint colors, skating his heart out, eating ribs and dressed to the nines.

Her Mom's Hands.

God Bless Wendy. She was one of the first Chaldean women in the USA. She came straight to Detroit, with her brother, not knowing a soul. Since she was one of the first to be here - there wasn't many people she could talk to so I guess she decided she better learn to speak english fast. She did. She graduated from Mumford, started beauty school and made her living in a salon (beauty parlor back then.)

She got married and raised a family. She never once wanted to go back to her country. She was an American.

Wendy cooked her ass off. She could put Emeril, Rachael Ray and the best of em to shame. She would make enough food for 30 people just in case someone came over and was hungry. Her daughter Ann, never interested in learning how to cook but always interested in eating would never learn her mothers craft. For 30 years we told Wendy to open a restaurant but she never did.

If you lived within 3 blocks of Wendy's house you were fat. I think you know why.

If you scratched your toe she would make a big pot of rice and stew. If your best friends, uncles, cousin from marriage would die. Wendy would bring a platter of homemade something to the house. Trust me - everything on that platter would be gone. Maybe, the plate got licked.

When we were younger Wendy would take us to the beach. Not to swim. Not to play in the sand but to EAT! Sandwiches, fruit, drinks, snacks, and whatever else would fit in the cooler and 3 bags. We went to Cedar Point. The station wagon held 8 but only 6 could go because of the food.

Wendy never used a recipe card and never used a measuring cup or spoon. She has tried teaching people how to cook but none have learned. It was just Wendy's hands. Her style. Her touch.

For years Wendy has made this one dish that I love. I love all of her dishes and she will share her secrets. I decided to ask her to teach me or just give me the ingredients for this one meat dish. She did.

I bought all 8 of the things she told me to buy. She explained in detail exactly what to do down to the way you shape the meat once it's all mixed together.

Ground beef, All Spice, garlic, salt, pepper, bread crumbs and some other stuff. I couldn't wait to go home and have my kitchen smelling as beautiful as hers.

I mixed it all up and BAM! I made the dish and it came out tasting like a hamburger. I asked Wendy what did I do wrong? Why didn't it taste like a great Arabic dish? She asked me "did you buy all of the stuff I told you to?" I said "yes." She said "did you fry it in oil?" I said "YES! What did I do wrong?" Then her daughter-in-law said "You know Wendy doesn't use measurements. She just knows how much to put in with her fingers." Ding Dong the bells went off. I didn't know how much to put in. Anyone want cheese on their burger?

Are you sure you want to go there?

1. That picture above is Tupac Shakur. He was a rapper/singer.

2. If you are white don't wear Apple Bottoms. We don't have an Apple Bottom.

3. Don't walk around saying slang words that you don't know the meaning.

4. Don't say "fo sheezy my neezy"

Today - 2 guys broke all of the rules.

I was at Meijer. There were two white guys. Both had their pants hanging way below regulation. I could see their boxers. Both had on Doo-Rags. White boys can't get waves. It wasn't cute. They were old enough to know better. I wanted to tell them.

There is nothing "ghetto" or "hard" about shopping at Meijer but they were trying. I was in the soup isle - they were too. I went in the bread department - they were too. I was sick of looking at them and sick of hearing them. Did that ever happen to you? There was a screaming kid that came in the same time you did and you just happen to be in the same place at the same time your entire shopping trip? Annoying I tell ya!

I wanted to tell these guys something so bad. They looked dumb and every word that came out of their mouths were equally as dumb. They called tuna fish "whack." They said they were going to steal bacon.

At first I was amused at them. I looked at them up and down several times trying to figure them out but I couldn't. Was one of them shopping for their mom? Did they live together? What was their story?

After a few spins down aisle 1, 2 and 3 one of them starting getting a pimp walk in aisle 4. I guess cereal does that to you. The words were on the tip of my tongue but I forced them not to come out. Something very hard for me to do.

Then they did it. Yep, right in front of my eyes. I almost fell on the floor at Meijer. I could hear the lady over the loud speaker "Earl clean up in aisle 8. Lady on the floor" You got it...aisle 8 ohhh you better know what you're doing in aisle 8. Like a person that just had gastrointestinal surgery going down cake, frosting, pudding row. You just don't go to certain places. For those of you that don't know aisle 8 is the Kosher food section. That's what aisle 8 is for. YIKES...what were these two clowns doing around matzo meal, shabbot candles and gefilte fish? Surely, they made a wrong turn. Nope...they didn't. I guess even the toughest gangsters from da' hood get a craving for Halvah once in a while. The one with the pimp walk told the other that "Halvah is da bomb."

"Earl, clean up in Aisle 8...for real this time."

Take a Hike IKE

Remember a few days ago I told you that I love hurricanes and massive weather?

OH GOD I LIED! Go ahead and blame me for the high gas prices. It's all my fault. Well, don't just sit there - throw an egg at me.

I was up almost all night watching CNN and the reporters flying in the wind doing their reports. Tree trunks were flying by. A heavy metal garbage dumpster was floating away. They just stood there, trying their hardest to keep their hood on their heads. They were soaked to the bone. I sat there amazed at this idiot for being in the midst of Ike talking about "we are almost at the eye of the storm." Does that mean he's going to stand there for the 2nd half of the storm? Dummy. How much could he make a year? The people in their houses, hiding under the covers, windows being blown out and glass everywhere were scared 1/2 to death but this guy was standing outside, holding an electronic mic and the dumb camera man was wiping the lens every .2 seconds. I hope he's ok today. I'll tune in later to find out.

That Ike is causing me to stay home until October. That's when gas prices are supposed to come down. HA HA HA, LMAO, LOL @ supposed to come down. Go down to what? Gas prices should be like the terror alert color symbols.

Green = You can afford to have a little fun. Go out for a Sunday drive. Visit friends and take that little trip out of town.

Yellow = Go to work, visit a friend or two on the weekend. Take the family to Frankenmouth.

Orange = Car pool, come home, go grocery shopping and a movie.

Blue = Wait until your gas light comes on then put $5.00 in just in case someone has to be rushed to the emergency room.

Red = Quit work cuz you can't afford to drive on your car pool week. Walk everywhere and during the night check the neighbors garage for gas cans and empty them in your tank.

I'm at code red. My car is parked and will stay there. My car uses premium gas and according to today's gas prices I aint goin nowhere.

Food prices will be going up and the only people that will be flying anywhere will be the people that can afford to wipe their butts with $50.00 bills.

Today I went to Meijer for my weekly toilet paper run. $6.00 for 8 rolls of toilet paper. It's cheaper to wipe with a slice of cheese.

HA HA HA

Remember when you used to blow bubbles?

I saw him yesterday - he told me to tell you hi.

Waves

Right now as you read and I write - I am in the midst of a migrane headache. I get them two or three times a year. It's so humid out and my hair is one big curl. If I look in the mirror right now I wouldn't be able to see it because the start of my migrane is having blind spots when I try to look at something. Seems like someone took my picture with a really bright flash and my eyes can't adjust. I would never make it as a model. I also see wavy lines in the corners of my eyes. At first it used to scare me but now I welcome the warning signs. I lay down and wait for the headache to come.

Sometimes the headache is so bad it makes me sick to my stomach and I'm out of commission or sometimes it's just a mild headache and goes away fast with a short nap. Looking at the computer screen doesn't help at all but I already took my 2:00 p.m. nap and don't feel like laying down right now. I've been watching Hurricane Ike on CNN. I think I have a headache? Texas is having a bigger one. I can't keep my eyes off CNN and The Weather Channel. It's amazing what Mother Nature is doing. Not an Advil nor a Tylenol can help them right now. Don't worry Texas they don't help me either.

Let's ride the waves together.

Shop, Swipe and Go

I always thought you just needed one credit card. One with a high enough balance for a just in case or an I have to have it. I asked for one. I got it and then they just started appearing in my mailbox. I never asked for more. I guess Visa, Mastercard, Discover and American Express thought I should be a card carrying member. They knew what they were doing because as soon as I got a new card I would run. Not to the drawer to cut it up but to the store.

I got my first credit card when I was 16. I forged Geana's signature and made her my co-signer. She didn't know it - later found out and wasn't too happy. Remember Ton Sur Ton? Used? Damaged? Well, I thought I should have them too. Sax Fifth was thrilled to give me credit and I was happy to accept. I didn't have a job so when the bill came I threw it in the garbage. Years later when Geana decided to get a bank card with her checking account she found out. I think I was 30 by then. I had 6 credit cards, financed 3 cars and my credit was perfect. Sax was tired of asking for their money for 24 years and just gave up.

Now, credit cards are used more than money. I've tried paying with cash in several places. Sometimes the register didn't have change for my bill so I had to either write a check or pay by credit card.

It's a shame that credit cards are so lax these days. Swipe, sign and go. If your bill is under $25.00 you don't even have to sign at some places. This has become scarry. ANYONE can go to a gas station with any credit card and fill er up. You can go to Meijers, buy enough groceries to feed 3 pro football teams for a week and they won't ask you for ID. What happened to policy? I wrote on the back of my credit cards "CHECK ID" in the signature line and no one checks it. When I buy cigarettes for $4.25 they sometimes check my ID (because I look too young to smoke?) but when I fill my car up for $75.00 they don't ask to see a thing.

How did stores get so lazy with people's credit? Times are tough now, people are stealing and everything is so fast and rush rush plus it seems you can get away with too much. It's time to buckle down and teach these store clerks. Next time you pay with your credit card give them your license with it. Maybe they'll catch on.

Please read and sign here X_______________________________________

How Could You Do That?

TRUE STORY

Date: September twenty something, 2001.

Place: A club

Bobby and I went clubbing. We don't dance and don't drink but we went to listen to the music and watch the people. It was fresh after 9-11. Everyone was still talking about the attack on the World Trade Center Towers, the plane crash and the Pentagon. The news was still reporting and having special reports about the terrorists.

The tasteless D.J. started talking on the mic and then played "You Dropped the Bomb on Me." I couldn't believe it.

Bobby wrote the club and they sent us free passes to come back - we threw them in the garbage.

Enough said.