I think it’s funny and ironic when people who absolutely HATE me for whatever reason make use of our personals. The profile of one lady who once told me she wanted to “slap my face” is on the front page of ButchFemmeMatchmaker.com. I spent another whole weekend crouched over this machine to create a better place where she can hopefully get laid. Those hours (and the money — at least a brand new car in cash) Chris and I have invested aren’t hours, but years… really.

I don’t make that investment for myself. I already have a wife and B-F friends that I love dearly. I am a reserved, behind-the-scenes type person, and so I certainly don’t run our community site for the recognition. I do it because I think it is a good thing to put out in the world, and I don’t regret it.

Yes, I have been called every name in the book over the years, from Nazi to God. I get threatened with lawsuits at least a few times a month. I have been stalked by several flavors of suffering human feces, and even had death threats that warranted police involvement. All of this because I stick to my own values and my own vision, and I refuse to take sides in other people’s dramas and general craziness.

People. Fun fun fun.

Do I get PISSED when I see someone who has been hateful to me using my resources? Nope. I just laugh because I am acutely aware of the irony of it all.

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Christine’s tiny blue-haired grandma is here. She brought the tortillas. She taught me how to make chicken salad THE RIGHT WAY. The sister went to the store for groceries and got BUD LIGHT for the deck outside instead of a BUG LIGHT for the deck outside. Cool! Except Chris made “that face” at me when I reached for a beer.

No smoking, no drinking, no cussing.

Tiny Grandma is up in the house.

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I had the best birthday! Christine brought me espresso as soon as I woke up, with no begging on my part. She took me to my favorite oyster bar for lunch, where I had some on the shell and some rolled in cornmeal and fried. Chris would NEVER go around any place that serves cold boogers on a rock, so that was really sweet of her. Then we went to the Dallas Museum of Art, and again my sweet wife was really patient while I strolled through the 17th century, studying all those glowing pink toes and nekkid people in drapes. And then we went to go see Team America, that new movie by the South Park guys. It’s all done in puppets. I have an odd fascination with puppets and collected them as a kid, and still do. The movie was fulla *IGNUNT* 12 year-old boy humor, of course. I laffed like a hyena.

So now it’s 12:03 and my 40th birthday is OVAH!!!

Thank you to all my friends who called and wished me a happy one, or posted well-wishes online. My day was happy indeed.

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When I first got into technology, I was working as an internet support technician, trapped in a cube with a phone taped to my ear. I was trying to help this one lost old guy install some chat software. I had been working with him for most of my life already. I told him to click on a link. He said, “When I mash on the dealie, it turns blue.”

For real.

I told another guy who had a Mac to go to the Apple menu, which on a Macintosh looks exactly like… an apple. He said: “Missy, I am tired of all your techno mumbo! Aren’t there any men there I can talk to?” I changed his password to ASSHOLE. When he called back again… it was still ME… again. Hello, you have reached 1-800-I-STILL-DONT-HAVE-A-PENIS. “Try typing A-S-S-H-O-L-E. Did that work? Gooood.”

Course there are all the famous tech calls from the good ol’ days, like the lady who had her mouse on the floor and was using it as a gas pedal. It sounds crazy, but I believe it.

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Dear Fellow American or UnAmerican - I urge you to take a moment and watch the following filmstrip at http://filmstripinternational.com. Be sure to have flash enabled and your speakers turned on. You may also want to make sure your right wing hosebag boss is at lunch cuz the accompanying soundtrack is kinda colorful.

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Rabbits Overtake Man’s Home
October 21, 2004

A Man in New Orleans who bought a pair of bunnies for company, ended up with more company than he could handle.

In less than a year, he had 73 rabbits. They chewed the furniture. They burrowed into chairs, couches and mattresses. They processed food faster than their owner could clean up after them.

Finally, he moved out and called his doctor for help, said SPCA Director Laura Maloney.

The doctor called the SPCA, which chased rabbits through the house for much of the day. Now - though a few have been adopted - it is asking area shelters for help.

“The rabbits were clean and healthy, even though the house wasn’t,” said Kathryn Destreza, director of animal services.

Maloney said the man was not cited. The man’s name was withheld by the Louisiana Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals on grounds that he was embarrassed enough already.

“He was a very nice man who recognised he was in a situation where he needed help,” she said.

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This woman thought a good way to bond with her five year-old son would be to light a crack pipe for him… 3 different times. She got 18 months in Indianopolis yesterday. She used to be a child care worker, but has been a crackhead for the last decade.

When I worked in prison, nearly all the people were there on drug-related charges. People obviously need a way to self-medicate or to escape as recreation, but crack is a scourge. Alcohol causes a belligerent rage in so many people, so many car accidents, so much addiction. It’s just fucking sad.

I think marijuana should be legal. Instead of billions of dollars going to drug lords in other countries, imagine if the government could reap the tax benefits of pot to fund the war on the really dangerous drugs that are hurting so many. Sure, some people are going to abuse any substance, where it’s legal or not. Many already do. Some abuse food. Some abuse sex. It’s human nature.

Cracking an elderly person over the head for money to buy one more rock while your own teeth are loosening in your head, or shooting some rival dealer because there is so much money involved, or giving your baby crack because you have lost your damned mind long ago… That’s not humanity, is it?

Hmm. Maybe I am naive. Maybe I’m just stoned. (kidding) What do you think?

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I never believed in ghosts until Chris and I lived for three years in a house that was truly haunted. I’ll tell ya the stories some time, if you haven’t heard them already. My closest friends know I like to sit on my deck and tell a tale or two, bumping my gums.

Tulip Staircase Ghost
Isn’t this a beautiful photo? It is known as the famous Tulip Staircase Ghost. The story is that Rev. Ralph Hardyfrom British Columbia took this photograph in 1966. He intended merely to photograph the elegant spiral staircase (known as the “Tulip Staircase”) in the Queen’s House section of the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, England. Upon development, however, the photo revealed a shrouded figure climbing the stairs, seeming to hold the railing with both hands. Experts, including some from Kodak, who examined the original negative concluded that it had not been tampered with. It’s been said that unexplained figures have been seen on occasion in the vicinity of the staircase, and unexplained footsteps have also been heard.

Famous San Antonio Ghosts
Late one spooky night, I went with a lover to check this ghost story out myself. In a mundane little San Antonio neighborhood where all the street names are like “Bobby Lane”, “Timmy Street”, and the like, there is a railroad crossing on top of a slight hill, the site where urban legend claims back in the 1930’s a busload of kids were killed by a train when their bus stalled on the tracks. You are supposed to put talcum powder on the back of your car, stop at the bottom of the incline in front of the tracks, turn off your lights, and put your car in neutral. With a sudden lurch, the ghosts of the kids will push your car over the tracks to protect you from the fate that befell them so many years ago, and you will see their tiny fingerprints in the powder. Your car really does get pushed over the tracks, over and over, any time of the day or night. It’s quite spooky. There are always cars on these tracks, testing this legend all the time. And yes, you can see the fingerprints, but I am a skeptic and think the powder might be picking up old fingerprints. I dunno. People have taken many photos at the site and seen strange orbs of light. Here is one pic at this spot that some kids took. The photo appears to show a transparent little girl with a doll stroller. Weird.

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Okay, I love music almost as much as good food. My biggo belly has certainly lived large, but the more I broaden my ears, the more I realize my musical palette is sadly underdeveloped. Yes! Musically, I am downright bony! My knowledge of classical music comes from vintage Bugs Bunny cartoons. And you know you are getting old when you think most new music sucks. I mostly listen to rap because it’s the only new stuff I can find that has any real attitude.

Of course, I was Sgt. Headbanger in the rawknroll army in high school… with a little Prince, a little punk, some funk, and the fag club classics thrown in. My Mom listened to 50’s rock and roll, so I am fairly versed in the Platters, Elvis, and Chuck Berry. To me, modern country songs are cliches that rhymne, but I rediscovered rilly old honky tonk classics in my 30’s. Johnny Cash is gawd. I always loved anything with some blues in it — ZZ Top, Janis Joplin, George Thorogood, old CCR — but I really don’t know shit about no blooze.

A coupla nights while we were in New Orleans, we caught a few blues shows in a dive on Bourbon. MAN! I just LOVED the shit. It is like my very own heart beating. That delta sound is better than …. well, it’s better than beer.

So I did what I always do when I wanna know about something. I started reading about the history of the blues, downloading and listening to all the classics of note. The stuff I have been immersing myself in ain’t sophisticated like the jazz Chris prefers, but it is pure heart. Some of the greatest of the greats came from right here in Dallas, down in the area we call Deep Ellum.

The thing I found interesting…. alot of the songs I have loved the most in my lifetime are actually old blues classics that were recorded before I was born. “Midnight Special” by CCR is hella sweet, but the original old scratchy sounding version by Leadbelly??! Whoaaa. Elvis’ pelvis ain’t got nuffin’ on Big Mama Thornton wailing “Hound Dog”!

So anyways, I been making up silly little blues ditties all day to annoy Chris. I am gonna bust out my harp and join her next time she is practicing the piano. I got my mojo werkin’ on that girl.

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