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This blog … ya THIS blog … this is what happens when I get bored

Three years ago today I sat in the world’s tiniest cubicle and wrote for the first time on a blog called “Thunderfish”. It is no more. It is now “Edge Of The Blade” thanks to a jerk who thought I was having an affair with his 300 pound wife so he ran off to San Diego and left her. And NO! I was not having an affair with her. And they got back together and he never apologized. Next time I see him I’m going to do something very un-Christian and pop him in the mouth. Thanks be to God.

This has been my place for 3 years to say what I want without fear of retribution, share my triumphs and struggles, make friends and discover that I’m not really alone.

I have been saddened that Hope of “Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For A Sunbeam” is no longer writing. As well as a few others. I miss them as well as a bunch of others who stopped or didn’t write long enough to know how good they were.

Some of you people are crazy. Some of you share my affinity for crunchy sandwiches. Some of you share my opinion of politics. Some of you are about to doze off to sleep.

Some of you have shared your secrets. I have cried for you and you never knew it. I have laughed with you and waited anxiously to read your next words. Sundays I spend reading your secrets on PostSecret. And some of you have accused me of things I never did.

I’m glad I have encountered each and every one of you.

Some of you don’t believe in my Jesus. He’s your Jesus too. And if he loved me he can DEFINITELY love you.

Three years is a long time for you saps to stick around. Thanks. It’s kept me sane.

I have some cold dark meat fried chicken in my mini fridge. You are welcome to come over today and have some for lunch!

And because when I get too intimate I like to make jokes. Here is a drunk girl with her underwear hanging out.

****** Edit ******

At Groovy’s request I place some of my favorite posts in the drop down to the left under “Choose A Favorite”

Terri of Terri Terri Quite Contrary

If you want to come up with a great dish, you’re ingredients have to be of high quality. Especially, if you are Terri of Terri Terri Quite Contrary. You need to take one part Gen-X’er, one part accomplished photographer, 3 parts kids, one part mommy, one part hottie and an extra dose of sassy.

For an extra special St. Patty’s Day treat read all about Terri.

Because one of the best days is Monday …

 

The Pogues Steams Of Whisky

 

 

Hey Phats … I found you an Irish girlfriend

Unfortunately, she’s not so bright …

Give Phats a hard time about his new girl.

The Legend Of The Sticky Bag

If you are offended by conversation about adult toys, go play somewhere else for a while. If you are an adult and want to hear an interesting moral to a story, read on.

It is no secret that my wife and I are married. At least the State of Texas decreed we are married and it would take 2 lawyers and a lot of money to dissolve that covenant.

Before I got marred, I had no need for adult toys to quell my "urges" now and then. So when I got married and learned women could buy just about any device available that made a buzz-hum sound shaped like all kinds of fruit and Asian animals  I thought it to be quite unfair. Sure, I can have some toys now now but I would deny it vehemently like Austin Powers, "That’s not mine, baby!"

 

But women, you can fill your nightstand and underwear drawers with the most unusual of devices. And so my marriage started trying to hide said devices from a 4 year old and a 9 year old. Finding hiding places in a small house can be a challenge.

Eventually, we moved to our current house and we decided to put all the lotions, potions, lubes, tubes, creams, prophylactics and cleaners in one white plastic bag. After six years you want to see if there is anything better than KY. And there was, but it tended to leak.

One Friday night a year or two ago, M and her sleep over friend needed to find something in one of our bathroom cabinets. They raided mine. Since I own no toys I’ll own up to, it was a safe bet to hid the innocuous white bag in my cabinet. It blended in well with all the other junk I keep there.

M’s friends eyes grew big when she caught a glimpse of the bag and it’s contents. On examination they saw that it had in fact a sticky texture. I’m sure their imaginations went rampant with why it was sticky. Not the REAL explanation that a bottle of lube had leaked out.

 

 

Now for the adult portion of the post.

Some of us go to great lengths to conceal the truth about ourselves. We stash things away, we find places in the closet to keep so that no one but the skeletons will find it. In some instances SOME – definitely not all and definitely not without wise counsel – should be brought forward.  I think it’s just better to bring those things to the middle of the room if it’s safe. Examine them, learn they aren’t so bad if we learned from them and move on.

Otherwise they can become rotten and corroded … sticky.

Spreading the blog love one URL at a time

First, I’m sorry my cool template is not quite working. Where I host it from is having issues. Should be working soon.

I’m stressed today. I didn’t take my nerve pill this morning – I usually take it Wednesday night, which doesn’t help, but I’m stressed for other reasons.

I can tell I’m stress because when I looked at this picture of Stacy Keibler from Newstoob. All I could think about was the Keebler Elves. ( with some 70’s pr0n music thrown in )

I can also tell I’m stressed because I’m eating my breakfast comfort food of a Whataburger with onion rings and scrambled eggs.

It seems my wife is in mediation with "the one of whom we do not speak" today at 10:45 AM. He called for it to try to get out of paying child support – forever. And then he told her she didn’t need to go and lied about everything. So we had to throw a bunch of paperwork together last night to prove he’s been delinquent a lot. Fortunately, he has to prove he has been paying. I don’t think he could tell himself the truth, honestly – no pun intended.

But yesterday M and I had to go to the doctor for her sinus infection. She’s working on week three ( and welcome to week three ) of this thing. They x-rayed her skull with the x-ray skull gun and found her lower sinus cavities were filled. So the antibiotics were just doing this whole hit and run thing. I had to teach her how to wash her nose out yesterday. She didn’t like it too much.

We had a good lunch at Chick – a – Lay as little a likes to call it. We talked about a lot of stuff. She’s stressed about try outs for cheerleader – Phats I totally wish you were here to coach her right now.

And we talked about her boyfriend the "monolithic-tripod"  MT. And we talked about sex and how she was too young for that even though she wanted to have sex. We discussed his 7.5 inch appendage ( no joke 7.5 inches ) and I told her that was WAY abnormal ( and asked how she knew it was that long which she totally stumbled into that trap ). Like circus freak abnormal.  She had NO idea what average was. I told her if he ever mistreated her she needed to post the picture he sent to her of him naked on the web with his name and phone number and address. ( this link is ABSOLUTELY NOT work safe )

I told her that I would respect MT more if he respected her and me more. Like he treated her well and didn’t try to have sex with her IN MY HOUSE! She made that face where you look away and pull the corner of your mouth down.

All in all it was good to spend time with her and take care of her and try to have a relationship with her.

But today, in the words of Sean Connery in "Hunt For Red October" (and I know all you frau’s loves you some Sean Connery):

Once more, we play our dangerous game, a game of chess against our old adversary – [the one of whom we do not speak]. For [6] years, your fathers before you and your older brothers played this game and played it well. But today the game is different. We have the advantage.

It’s not a mix tape or a meme

I needed a topic for today’s post. Little a and I are planting flower seeds later this afternoon since we have sooooooooooo much more daylight now. It’s all about the east coast.

So I Googled "conversation topics". This came from "Conversation Topics For A Date". I’m waiting to finish online driver’s ed.

Please pick 3 to 5 and answer. I’m a comment wh0r3.

1. What is the yuckiest thing you’ve ever had to do?

2. What was the major turning point in your childhood?

3. Who is the best teacher you’ve ever had?

4. If you could bring one historical person back to life in order to make things better in the world, who would it be?

5. Who are the friends that you wish you still had?

6. Which one of the world’s cultures do you find the most interesting and fascinating?

7. How has the world changed the most since you were a kid?

8. What do you wish hadn’t changed in the world?

9. What are the top four places you would like to visit in your own country? In the world?

10. What are the top four places–in your country or in the world–you would like to live?

11. Who do you need to forgive? ( dude … on a DATE? Don’t ask that!)

12. What historical event would you like to have been a part of?

13. Who do you find yourself quoting the most?

14. What kind of old person do you want to be?

15. What really is in outer space?

 

And here are some of my alternates

1. What’s in your night stand?

2.  Do you ever have a recurring dream?

3. Thong, bikini, boy shorts or commando  ( dude … on a DATE? Don’t ask that!)

4.  What song is the theme song of your life ritght now?

5.  Tell me about your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.

Funny From Online Defensive Driving

"Remember when a kid would cut in line in front of you in school? Well, on the road you can’t get back at them by putting pudding in their pants."

 

The Spirit Of Blogger Compels You

I feel compelled to post something today. Something thought provoking. Something to make people wish I was stalking them.

I never realized how difficult it would be to teach a teenager anything. Especially in something I’m interested or have some expertise.

My stepdaughter dates, no, has a steady, wait, she sees this kid whom I will refer to as the monolithic tripod. For obvious reasons previously proven by the local printer in my house, this kid has nothing to be ashamed of, he just needs to keep it away from my daughter. It’s loaded … and with his endowment, loaded for bear.

What I have been vainly trying to teach M is that she can choose who she dates. The old notion of, "Well, he asked me out so I guess I have to go," should be an arcane thought to her.  But she continues to date this guy despite the fact she could choose any guy she wanted with whatever criteria she wanted. Its not that MP is bad to her, he’s just 14 and hasn’t quite learned respect yet. Much like M’s dad.

Which reminds me Hi, …

I read a book called Getting The Love You Want by Harvelle Hendrix a few years ago. Interesting book. Oprah made him more of a name recently with her new age voodoo. Briefly, his premise is that we select people to date/marry that help us resolve the conflicts we have with people in our past.

Hendrix refers to it as Imago therapy. Whatever …

Point is, if you squint and think really hard, … wait, not so hard you wet yourself, but if you think really hard about your spouse/SO/GF/BF you will notice they probably have a lot of the same characteristics as the parent you had the most conflict with. Then think about the people you dated. Again, not so hard on the thinking … You were probably drawn to people like the parent or relative you had conflicts with.

My wife has MANY of the characteristics of my dad, but in a different body – and a much nicer and more feminine body it is. I have had to learn to accept a small amount of physical affection, very little long discussions and very little sense of humor. It seems our unconscious is deeply motivated to heal our brokenness.