Today I blew my cover in my super secret world wide Gang..   Damnit.   All because I ran in a store to grab my mom a treat.   I'm not Darkwing Duck, I am...  e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

Dear punk teenagers with the crotch of your pants lower than your knees, with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth and your shirt flung over your should showing off what might one day be a chest:

Visual Example:

if the stupid look is in this season you are freaking NAILING it

The second I walked in, I saw panic in the poor elderly woman behind the counter. haven't we all? I mean I'm sure in her day she didn't see a mans ass crack and drawers until after dark on her wedding day, but I am forward, I've got kids, I am cool and down with it, I can totally bridge this culture gap of generations no problem, let me slip on my cape.

I walked closer and I hear her voice quivery with a mix of fear, with a dash of authority. I can't quite make it out, she makes only brief eye contact with you and repeats her words, and tone. I get closer to the counter where each of you are on separate sides, like a courtroom or even a crazy dance scene from west side story might break out, and lucky me, woot woot, front row seats to this off off off off off Broadway production.

As I grow closer though, she glances at me, with fear and pleading in her eyes. I look over to sum you up again, and you have a lighter, and you are flicking it, your cheap ass lighter that's grinding oddly on that crooked flint throwing a faint spark as you steadily flick flick flick flick.

Then out of the corner of your 14 or 15 year old mouth that isn't holding a cigarette you are trying feverishly to light while standing across the counter from a lady working a restaurant. WOW,  NO FN WAY ?  I must have heard that wrong, surely your little boy butt did not just put vocal thrust behind the F^$* YOU! you just spewed at this elderly lady working.

Now I hear and see, she is saying, " no smoking, no smoking, you can't smoke here, please leave, no it's illegal, please please just leave me. English isn't her first language, she may speak it fine normally but maybe her being so scared and upset is making it choppy, but not to choppy to misunderstand the meaning, and I certainly understand smart ass teen, and what you said to that lady was wrong.

I stood back, waiting, to see if you 2 human beings from such different times, who have had such different lives can come together to communicate, without any escalation. I mean honey please, your tennis shoes and watch probably cost more than this ladies car, and I'm quite sure your comfy little "pseudo" hard life was  obviously way worse than whatever this woman went thru 50 years ago in another country she left to move to this one full of strangers,  strange language,  crossing an ocean to bust her ass to work in the food industry and be intimidated and cussed by a little spoiled puke poser like you.

Uhm no. You can't. because in walked your 2 little spoiled punk boyfriends. with your shirts off, and your pants around your ankles which pretty much ensures no matter my current physical state of health I can disable each of you with little effort as basically you have tied your ankles together.. genius move dorks..

I tried, I did. I honestly tried to stay out of it. But my mom really really really wanted a food item from this location, and since even though I am an adult I do want to see my mom smile I had left her in the car while I ran in to grab what she wanted. I wanted to be some sort of bridge for you to to communicate across.  DAMN YOU !  I already had my stupid cape on and now, I have to step in.

Sadly, I left my "little prick to English dictionary" in the car. So when your little boyfriends came in, holding their regions that might one day turn into a gender, and you yelled, " F &^% YOU, followed by a racial slur as you made another round of attempts to light your cigarette, I remembered I may not speak little prick, but I speak mom.

So son, when the fat old white lady in capris and flip flops with her hair in a clip who looks like every other old white soccer mom on the planet reached up and slapped that cigarette out of your mouth today, I saw you recoil in fear, I understand when your little boyfriend bowed up like he forgot his common sense at home in his upper middle class 2 parents home with a landscaped yard and thought he was going to run his mouth in my direction, yeah yeah I stepped at him, and used my best loudest, out door  MOM voice to scream while pointing. " BOY DON"T YOU DREAM IT!! I KNOW YOUR MOMMA !! I WILL KNOCK YOUR SMART MOUTH INTO NEVERLAND IF YOU DON"T STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET OUT NOW ! in that split second dumbass 3 took off as fast as he could possibly waddle with his pants around his ankles towards the door, dumb ass 2 started backing himself toward the door like a duck backing away from a croc, and you, you I never broke eye contact as I growled, " DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? you blinked, I had you.

I had you, and I made you apologize, I made you throw away your ILLEGAL smokes and lighter, and I made you pull up your pants and walk out.   Of course you do NOT know who I am,  for I come in many forms.

Here's the deal my little friend. Those of us "old ladies" you think you strike fear in? Baby boy, we been playing this game so long, we can flip it like a light switch.. Do you doubt me? Find any mom in the stands at her kids sports game, she will come completely OFF THE DAMN chain over a bad call by the ref. That mom, yeah that's the same mom, that by one look and without saying a word can make your grown father cower off to the pantry to empty the trash.

There are ways to spot us. We keep our pants pulled up. often our hair too. we wear gang related clothing, often it's like capris or yoga pants with a hair band around our wrist, you come across a mom with more than one hair band on her wrist? you are doomed, they are like belts in martial arts. Just quietly, and respectfully back the hell away. 

Of course you don't know who I am son, because I am " every mom " the mom you thought was at work, or at home or busy, and trusted you and your little friends to go walking a strip mall while she got a pedicure. I am the shadow in the closet, I am the cop at the door, I am the glass of water that braves the dark at 2am when you were too scared to speak.  I am the Doctor who nursed your wounds, the Teacher that helped you sing the ABC's.  I am the mother in labor, and the mother who keeps selected baby baby clothes in a keepsake box.  I am the Judge, the Jury, and I poses a pair of eyes in the back of my head I allow your mother to channel.  I will watch your precious little ass for her, if her eyes aren't near.  If she has misplaced trust in you, I will point out kindly how you are tying the damn rope around your neck yourself.  

 I have faith that any mother of any child who was trying to play big bad ass criminal man, and scaring an old lady today,  would have knocked the shit out of you so hard you would be back in diapers.  If  I am wrong about your mom,  if.  IF.  If I am wrong and your mom thinks it's fine for her little boy half naked to have ciggerettes, a dirty mouth, break laws and treat another human like trash,  well then son, you need me more than you will ever know, and I'm sorry that your mom wants to be your friend more than she wants you to be a good person.  Just remember..   We are a world wide network,  we are trained,  you wont ever know who is watching.  So don't be a little shit.  m'kay?

Love Always !

PEACH OUT

Apocalypse How?

This was originally posted 2/2/11 by me, the artwork and concept is mine, yes it's sad that I am proud of this  Also, I really really hope I am right about this one.

A lot of people are freaking smooth out because of the Mayan Calendar.  So I used my Government Experience to come up with a more feasible explanation of what happened.











That's the  mystery behind they Mayan Calendar. Now you know.

.

XO

PEACH OUT

Les Bon Temps Rouler!

It's Mardi Gras here. That means EVERYONE is off work for Fat Tuesday which is actually the day of Mardi Gras, but we really stretch it out because it's a season. Literally months and months have went into excessive celebration.  Because we are approaching ash wednesday.  Yes people this is actually a religious holiday but no one EVER protests the drinking, the boobs, the luxury of this season.  They just think it's a party.  And that's totally fucking OK with us.  Seriously, everyone is welcome.

Oh yeah and don't correct my title, I know it's not proper french, you are absolutely correct, it is a grammatical affront to all French people.  However it is a lovely blend of Slov and French and Spanish because we have flown under so many flags, this is "our" way to say-  "let the good times roll.

Also I made this, for a custom order.    It's solid chocolate, all of it, and drunks will eat the hell out of it.
NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

Over indulge, after all remember what the Myans said !

XO 

PEACH OUT

Why Young Women pick shitty men

It's pretty much a proven fact that most grown adult nearly sane women can look at their past and think, " OMFG what the hell was I thinking?"

It may have been a boyfriend, or god forbid a husband.  It's a paradox, it seems that a nearly sane moderately intelligent woman wouldn't be caught dead in the company of such a piece of breathing shit.  However we often date, or mate with them during our younger years.

I have solved the mystery.  You are welcome.

1) most of the grown nearly sane moderately intelligent women were raised in a household of dreams and dolls.  O' wait that's only in the fucking movies, most of us were raised in houses of divorced fighting parents or worse parents who should have been divorced because one of them was such an intolerable cunt that you felt pity for the other one.  However no matter the household situation you were raised in I am sure there was some sanity and love,  even if it was a brief glimpse or just your childlike rose colored glasses making it possible for your psyche NOT to split 30 ways and we go around pulling out puppies eyes and sewing them to our stuffed animals.  With the knowledge of this as our basic foundation I will move on.

2- Early interaction with the opposite sex.  Preschool,  a parents friends child, Kindergarten whatever it was.  You can bet nearly every little girl remembers that asshole kid that kicked you, threw things at you,  called you some horrible name that possibly rhymed in some weird kid way. Chances are if this little asshole pulled your braided pigtails or hit you with a spit ball.  You were already at a disadvantage by having to wear days of the week panties and skirts and those god awful freaking shoes.  The bonus?  Those shoes were some hard ass "mary janes" and the childhood equivalent of steel toed boots.  Thankfully we as women were born with  remarkable accuracy when we fought back it was more like a strategic nuclear strike to the still forming nuts of the rat bastard torturing us.

3-Movies.  Yes we love Beauty and the Beast, where the beautiful woman sacrifices everything looks past everything,  both physically and emotionally  to fall in love with a seriously violent and ugly asshole.  Who the hell thought that was a great idea?  I mean do we have a reverse of this to balance out the entire " see the best in everyone " mantra.   Maybe?  How about "Lady and the Tramp",  OMG, yeah they are dogs, but she runs away with a bad boy homeless dog who treats her to leftovers on a garbage can.  They fall in love, she looks past the fact he has a criminal history, no home, no family,  and basically no morals, and then they move in with her parents.  Wow, that is freaking awesome. I don't have to go into the overtly obvious ones like dirt poor Cinderella has to pretend to be "good enough" for the guy,  or Snow White where it's totally ok to run away and live with a bunch of guys because you think your parents are assholes.  Wait Asshole parents?  That sounds like Ariel, because her dad had all these stupid "rules" like DON'T FREAKING TALK TO THE PREDATOR that lives in a cave.  Make a deal with the local predator and go try to be good enough for the guy because he's cute and your Dad is an asshole with rules.  Thanks childhood cartoons for putting this shit in our heads.


Honestly I watched and read them all.   I knew I needed to find a destitute bad boy and I could totally look right thru the physical and emotion and financial parts because none of that matters once you love him enough he will be perfect and things work out great.

UTTER FUCKING BULLSHIT.  Yet a large portion of females do this.  Especially in our youth.  I would like to say that our frontal lobes aren't completely formed when we do these things.  I would also like to say we learn our lesson and run straight into the arms of a wonderful man or find our own happiness that doesn't even involve being "good enough"  or "tolerant enough"  just to be who we are, how we are, and tell the world to take it or leave it.

There's a lot more to this and you could write a thousandkabillion  Doctorate Thesis on this topic.

Why bother,  every teenager is automatically smarter and has stronger feelings and unique experiences that their parents just can't comprehend because they are old.  They got old by being a teenager and they are praying that you don't do the same stupid shit they did.  Or they are drunk.

I need a fucking drink.

xo
PEACH OUT

All it takes for Evil to prevail is

Please visit these sites today......
http://theoatmeal.com/sopa  - Cartoon explanation with Jesus Oprah a jet ski and Kittens. = Awesome

http://www.theanimatedwoman.com/2012/01/blackout.html  - Best Animator on the Web supporting us all the way from Canada,  this is indeed a global issue people.

http://www.beingpeachy.com/    My blog under my domain, the original and light hearted Being Peachy.


If you are blacked out or have a post about the black out PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LINK TO YOUR BLOG OR PAGE OR A POSTER OF YOU OR WHATEVER  IN THE COMMENTS.



XO
PEACH OUT

BEARS and BACON

A man in rural Wisconsin wakes up one morning to find a bear on his roof.  So he looks in the yellow pages, and sure enough, there's an ad for "Up North Bear Removers."

He calls the number, and the bear remover says he'll be over in 30 minutes. The bear remover arrives, and gets out of his van.

He's got a ladder, a baseball bat, a 12-gauge shotgun, and a mean old pit  bull.

"What are you going to do?" the homeowner asks...

"I'm going to put this ladder up against the roof, then I'm going to go up there, and knock the bear off the roof with this baseball bat.  When the bear falls off the roof, the pit bull is trained to grab his testicles, and not let go.  The bear will then be subdued enough for me to put him in the cage in the  back of the van."

He then hands the shotgun to the homeowner.

"What's the shotgun for?" asks the homeowner.

"If the bear knocks me off the roof shoot dog!"





what?   where is my bacon?  oh you want bacon?  you can't handle the bacon !

This glorious turkey bacon is the perfect meat for Thanksgiving!
I totally stole it from The Domestic Diva

Now that's truth in advertising,  Bears and Bacon?  yeah I am this cool.


xo
PEACH OUT

Hero worship, the line forms here...

I have 2 huge dogs, a 7 yr old black lab ( mei) and a 5 yr old dalmatian (loki).

Admittingly Mei has an addiction to digging holes that rivals any crackheads need for a rush, and Loki is trouble by  many extreme neurotic syndromes and is randomly  willing to eat through a french door if I am in the shower and he can't see me.

However these magnificent yet flawed ( like us) beasts are my friends, my buds, my dawgs YO!

They will chase mail people, children and best of all,  the power meter dude.  An unfortunate side effect of such behavior resulted in them becoming pussified.  What I mean by that is, for over 1 1/2 years now these 2 giant hell hounds have become the equivalent of piddling little purse puppies.  They live inside.  It began when Loki was run over, nothing like a crushed pelvis and a couple surgeries to convince you to let the suffering dog sleep inside, but we can't be having favorites no no no, so in comes Mei, simply by proxy.

They are extremely handy.   The only exercise I get every day is sweeping the floors of the massive amount of hair they shed that leads to a mathematical conundrum that should have them running about completely nude ( as in hairless) which means clearly my dogs are exceptional, at growing hair.

There is also a possessed evil cat that dwells under my roof, but this is not about her or her evil ways.

For 2 weeks now there have been what can only described as a marauding GANG of  Thugs (stray cats)  living on my back and front porch.  Their tendency to accidentally think this is OK is in large part the fault of my husband and child feeding and spending time in the yard paying them undue attention.

This is a cause and effect situation..   The presence of these thug cats has turned my massive mans best friend BEAST dogs  into sniveling she wimps.  They want out, they can't go out back there's a cat on the deck OMG what do we do?  Sure we are 10x's the size of those furry things but OMG they make an awful hiss.  Ok lets go to the front, everyone's excited sliding on the wood floors hauling ass to the front door, fling it open and SATAN is sitting there with fangs, and  claws and a hunched back and making a noise that scares us.

Since I personally fall no less then 35% of the time I am standing up  I make it a habit not to bend over.    But I love my dogs, and by love my dogs I mean I want their hairy asses to shit outside.

I took a gamble picked up the cat who was preventing my dogs from access to the grass in my yard,  thus allowing them to freely run into the sunshine and pee and dig holes.

Short lived was our little utopia when my vicious attack beasts were quickly engaged in a war for the porch with the legion of felines.

I again had to get up I walked to the front door, fling it open and NOW  my dogs can not get in,  because SATAN is standing guard at my front door, they are in battle mode, attempting to defeat this foe but literally powerless to do anything other than bark at it, and quickly jump backwards.

It was clear to see by the look in their eyes that they felt absolutely horrible for not being able to help me.  In their eyes I was trapped, trapped in the house they couldn't get to thanks to what I can only assume in dog vision equates to a 300 foot  DRAGON.

Without even thinking I simply drop kicked the cat across the yard thus giving my strong manly beasts a hurdle free path to enter the castle.

I looked down and saw my dogs, frozen in time, staring at me in total disbelief.  I was a GOD.  They were completely freaked out that I, me, a mere mortal was able to defeat the SATAN beast so that they could again return to the comfort of laying on my leather couches in the air.

As if for only a moment,  my dogs could speak I am sure they would chant my name, just like the last couple minutes of the movie Rudy.

For I have that level of power.  You are welcome.

We are all just nuts.

 

On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree

just inside the cemetery fence.  One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of

nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts.

'One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me,' said one boy.  Several
dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle.  As he passed, he
thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery.  He slowed down to
investigate.  He just knew what it was.  He jumped back on his bike and rode off.  Just
around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

'Come here quick,' said the boy, 'You won't believe what I heard!  Satan and
the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls!'

The man said, 'Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me to walk.'  When
the boy insisted though, the man hobbled slowly to the cemetery.

Standing by the fence they heard, 'One for you, one for me.  One for you, one for me.'

The old man whispered, 'Boy, you've been tellin' me the truth.  Let's see if
we can see the Lord...?

Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet were still unable to
see anything.  The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the
fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of the Lord.

At last they heard, 'One for you, one for me.  That's all.  Now let's go get
those nuts by the fence and we'll be done...?

They say the old man had the lead for a good half-mile before the kid on the
bike passed him.

I really need a penis.

Ok, I have a problem, and I know the first step to overcoming a problem is to admit you have a problem so we can just count this as the first step to a healthier me right?

Wait what's my problem?

Oh yeah, sorry,  I have acute incurable penis envy.  There I said it, now somebody pass me a fucking doughnut and some OJ after the "hi's and welcomes" calm down.

I don't think I ever went through the entire "denial phase".   I have always loved penis, despite the fact they are possibly the most hilarious looking part of a human body and hang around with nuts I love them.

Everyone I have ever been madly in love with had a penis.

Short of having one of my own  the penis is pretty much perfect.  It's like a thermometer only it rises in the occasion of attraction instead of temperature.  The rest of the time it just hangs there, all awesome and hilarious.  I have to give credit to the penis for being involved in the creation of all 3 of my children.  Yeah it's obviously remarkable.

However I also have to admit that my reason for penis envy is indeed for 1 solitary reason.
Just one, out of all the wonderful things a penis allows you to do.
Pee in the snow,  write your name, miss the toilet,  be embarrassed in middle school by random wood, hide behind pleated dockers, and drive a chicks head into the wall.  Yeah those are all great, but I really am envious of 1 and only 1 thing.  Me and Demi Moore share our envy issues.

I WISH I HAD A PENIS SO  I COULD TELL PEOPLE TO SUCK IT.

literally that's it.  I mean sure I would love to just bend over the numbnuts in the medical field and ram them with a hefty member but honestly I think I would feel just as satisfied as if I could stone face look at them and say,

"suck my dick"

If I had a dick I would probably go ahead and trade 5000 words out of my lexicon just to be able to stone faced look at someone and say, "suck my dick"  and then offer up a dick.

This is probably one of the many reasons I don't have a dick, because whoever was in charge of passing out penis, said, " oh hell no,  this is a bitch, no dick for her, she will have everyone sucking it".  They were right.

Examples from just today-

New Brain Surgeon-  blahdy blah blah, blah shit you have heard for 10 years, blah blah shit you have heard, blah, shit that is irrelevant, blah,  anyone could die anytime, you could get hit by a bus leaving here, blah blah blah.
Me-  "oh I see,  well in that case,  SUCK MY DICK"


Post office worker-  uhm no, you have to buy another box, they are over there were you stood in line for 20 minutes, no I am  not going to help you even though you asked, yes I realize I am sitting on a fucking stool watching TV but I will sell you a stamp for you to stick on your letter then tell you to put it in a slot in the wall that leads to a basket under my hand but I wont do it for you.

Me-" Oh ok, sorry to bother you by actually parking the car and staggering in then waiting in line 3 times because you couldn't get your fat ass off the stool to actually do your job, or mailing a letter, so instead of getting back in line can you go ahead and just SUCK MY DICK?"


Neurologist- You didn't have a seizure during the 30 minute eeg, but that doesn't mean you don't have them so you officially can't drive for a full year starting today.  Oh and here's some medicine that will make you feel like I punched you in the vagina.
Me- " So I don't have seizures? or I do? or what?  never mind just go ahead and SUCK MY DICK."


Lady at the refill pharmacy-  no that rx is expired, no that one can't be renewed until tomorrow, these 5 are a week late refilling, and this one you need to come back in 6 days to get.
Me- " oh well they just told me I am not allowed to drive anymore for an entire year and I live pretty far away from here, so if you could fill anything that needs to be filled for the next 2 weeks that would be awesome and save me from going without my medicines as prescribed, since I can't drive and all.
Bitch / Lady-  NO
ME- "OH OK, HOW ABOUT YOU JUST SUCK MY DICK THEN"


French Neurosurgeon-   bladee, blah voila, tres blah,  cava , blah,  uh duh twa, blah,  I am so good looking and french I will distract you with my laid back attitude and frenchness. blah,
Me- "  Je parle en frances,  poir fe vour  SUCK MY DICK"


Gas Pump-  $3.39
ME-  "SUCK MY DICK"

Dog hair on the floor -   no need to sweep just scream
ME- "SUCK MY DICK"

Dinner?  Family?  what ?  I got nothing...
ME- " SUCK MY DICK"

Laundry?
ME- "SUCK MY DICK"


I should just get white business cards with the words, " SUCK MY DICK"  on them, nothing else, just pass them out to everyone I meet thus cutting straight to the chase.

Honestly I really believe I could live remainder of my entire life just using those 3 words,  if of course, I actually had a dick,  until then,  it's an empty threat.  ( ha, no penis? empty? get it? ha?  shit I am funny right?  no?  well then to you I say,  " SUCK MY DICK")


XO
PEACH OUT

Sainthood or a complete idiot.

Please pleaser someone snopes this and tell me this isn't true.  Tell me someone who is defending the safety of me, my family, my rights, my country is NOT THIS BIG OF A FREAKING IDIOT.  If it's not in snopes please enter it and then debunk it.  I hope this guy has not been given a GI weapon of a higher caliber than a packet of ketchup.

I have to go now, I have a date at the adult porn cinema where I will be wearing a body condom and sticky proof shoes. 


xo
PEACH OUT

Peachy investments - the 401Keg

If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in Delta Airlines one year ago, you would have $49.00 today. If you purchased $1,000 of shares in AIG, you would have $33.00. If you purchased $1,000 of shares in Lehman Brothers, you would have $0.00 today.

But, if you purchased $1,000 worth of beer, drank all the beer, turned in the aluminum cans for recycling, you would have $214.00. Therefore the best current investment plan is to drink heavily & recycle.

 It is called the 401-Keg Plan.

To be an idiot or Not to be....

Bob was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary & his wife was angry. She said, "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds & IT BETTER BE THERE!" When she woke up, she looked out the window & sure enough there was a box in the middle of the driveway. She ran outside to open it & inside she found a brand new bathroom scale. Bob has been missing since Friday.


sometimes it's better to contain your inner smart ass, sometimes it's totally worth it.




go kick Mondays ass yall !


xo
PEACH OUT

Red -v- Blue

A story about a coyote in California: BLUE

The Governor of California is jogging with his dog along a nature

trail. A coyote jumps out and attacks the Governor's dog, then bites the

Governor. The Governor starts to intervene, but reflects upon the movie

"Bambi" and then realizes he should stop because the coyote is only

doing what is natural. 

He calls animal control Animal Control captures the coyote and bills the

State $200 testing it for diseases and $500 for relocating it. 

He calls a veterinarian. The vet collects the dead dog and bills the

State  $200 testing it for diseases.

The Governor goes to hospital and spends $3,500 getting checked for

diseases  from the coyote and on getting his bite wound bandaged.

The running trail gets shut down for 6 months while Fish & Game

conducts a $100,000 survey to make sure the area is now free of

dangerous animals.

The Governor spends $50,000 in state funds implementing a

"coyote awareness program" for residents of the area.

The State Legislature spends $2 million to study how to better

treat rabies and how to permanently eradicate the disease throughout

the world.

 The Governor's security agent is fired for not stopping the attack. The

State spends $150,000 to hire and train a new agent with additional

special training re: the nature of coyotes.

 PETA protests the coyote's relocation and files a $5 million suit

against the State.

Texas-  RED 

The Governor of Texas is jogging with his dog along a nature

trail. A Coyote jumps out and attacks his dog.

1. The Governor shoots the coyote with his State-issued pistol and

keeps jogging. The Governor has spent $0.50 on a ..45 hollow point

cartridge.

 2. The Buzzards eat the dead coyote.

Hrmmm....  that was easy.

have a great weekend y'all !

xo

PEACH OUT

Epic Mackerel Battle

I shit thee not

I don't like to rub it in that I happen to live on the gorgeous Gulf of Mexico with 27 miles of man made beaches and Casinos and Mardi Gras and all that wonderful stuff.   But sometimes it's really hard not to point out just how freaking fabulous this place is.

Sure sure..  this is the mothership of every single "People of Walmart" picture that has ever made you gag or bleach your eyes.

So with my job ( using the term loosely here)  I get to do all sorts of crazy fun stuff  sometimes.

Recently I spent 6 hours on a huge charter boat with these Engineers/Tourist.  As a videographer.

I think no one should ever take themselves too seriously,  so realizing that after a full day sport fishing, you really shouldn't leave my state after meeting me without a solid freaking fish fight.

I actually made these 2 tourist partake in a mackerel fight while I shot film  before they could get in their vehicle and head back to their state.   I am that cool.

Enjoy this moment of insanity they will take home with them as a solid memory.




I know they will remember this forever because well.  A Spanish Mackerel is sharp, in fact the poor guy in the red shirt has a split and bleeding lip from a FISH SLAP, that you just saw.  I can only assume that the beers will not be sufficient in fighting off the bacteria but honestly I do plan to put in some light saber sound effects but I know you guys are all thinking the doctors finally won and killed me, but I don't want anyone collecting on the Peachys Death Date Pool you had running.  I am actually alive and running about. Making people who visit my state do completely insane things just to entertain me, and of course you.

xo


PEACH OUT

I got more pricks than A Porn Star also here's a pic of my beaver.

Ok this shit is getting old in a super fast way.

As most of you know on the 10th I drove myself to the E.R. like a big twatwaffle because I was having a heart attack. I never had a heart attack  before and since I wasn't in a junk yard, and didn't have chest pains to be fair I wasn't 100% sure it was indeed a heart attack.

The Military in true fashion  had 1 dude that finished the last couple weeks of school and he was playing golf or having an affair or whatever so they sent me to the civilian equivalent to a Gold fish Doctor where they cathed my heart on my daughter's 22nd birthday. I was awake for the beginning of the heart cath and I don't really recommend that for anyone except maybe a couple of those hyena bitches from "The View",
Click here and read - A nut in the Hand
anyway I wrote about it here, because I grabbed the Italian GoldFish Doctor by the nutsack.. He prescribed a medicine and we pretty much left thinking I had dodge another bullet and was rocking the heart with the kick butt sexy brain and it was all just gravy. Went to daughters grad, worked overtime trying to make up some funds, because MENSA man can't balance a budget any more than he can shave hair off a moldy dish he leaves laying in the sink for 3 days. Then went and watched the prince rock his county baseball tournament. Each day I got more and more tired. The fatigue was kicking my butt. But my days needed to be longer, going from 17- 19 to 21 hours. I had to catch up, I was becoming slower so my days had to become longer. I was tearing it up like a herd of turtles.

Ok actually I couldn't take more than 10 steps without panting like a freaking fat hog who just ran a 10 k with a hoho on a stick in front of her face. I saw my PCM ( which means Primary Care Physician even when they aren't always physicians, and most of the time they don't really care. I expressed to her like 15 times that I was extremely exhausted and it was getting worse, and I was worried. But my nearly a Doctor if she went to school for 10 more years and was over 17 years old  said that's what happens with stress ( wtf you turd?)  so I guess I am ok right? The only stress I have is the inability to communicate with you jackholes.

Long story short between they screwed up meds, and me trying to catch up from the time out from the heart attack ( which I called an event last week so as to play it down)  and the "almost nearly a doctor" blowing me off,  I almost nearly ate dirt in a permanent  fashion this past weekend.

Thankfully the droid was home.  I took a nap, ( rarely happens)  on Saturday because I am in a state of constant exhaustion.  I woke up with back pain. ONLY.  However,  since I have been in a state of permanent exhaustion he pulled the 'FUCK THIS" card,  and took me to the Emergency room.

They scooted me straight back to the E.R. where my first labs and EKG came back awesome but they admitted me because it can take up to 12 hours for the Troponin ( or whatever enzime shows in your blood that you had the heart attack) to show up.  Mind you neither time did I have chest pains.
Click here So you don't die, read this almost PSA by me  This time I didn't even have the jaw pain or sweats, or shakies, or dizzies, or nothing.  But the Droid was here, and he doesn't feel like wearing a tie to a funeral or cooking for the prince until he's 18 if I die so he is protecting his investment so he made me go.

They admitted me, and requested my records from the other civilian/ Goldfish hospital/doctor/popped nut Italian hottie guy.

Come to find out,  it   I win the bet against the Droid.  I do have a freak heart.  So nee nur.   Unfortunately it's  nearly as jacked up as my brain, which is as whiggidy whack as my attitude.  I have super small aterieries, and  some type of spasm issue which I guess makes me a spaz.

INSERT WORD AWESOME HERE- ___________________________________--
Because I am actually a freaking spaz.

The medicine they gave me the Goldfish Dr messed up and shouldn't have given me because I have low BP and low heart rate and dude gave me stuff to lower it.  That will teach me to pop a Dr's nut YO.   Yeah he may have been sitting on frozen peas but I kept eating tile flooring and stuff. Then the military Docs kept blowing me off, you know cause,  I don't look or act sick.  Apparently the hospital is based on theatrical abilities not medical issues.

So I spent my weekend in the Military hospital finding out the Goldfish people knew my heart was 47 levels of jacked up,  yet they did nothing other than give me a medicine that could have killed me.  The PCM ( nearly almost a real doctor who is looking forward to being able to vote next year and drink in a couple years)  blew me and my complaints off even though she was handed the medicine.

My care is now handed over to a team of actual Dr's in Internal Medicine and Genetics.   My bloodwork was drawn every 2 hours, I am on 5 new medicines which brings my daily total to 23.  This time I am actually going to listen and be on bed rest. Because in the grand scheme of things I would rather be dead broke then just dead. I have been digging in the couch cushions broke before. Hell I have been, "wish I owned a couch!" broke before, so it's no biggie. Alive is so much more cool. I spent 2 years of my life adjusting to this crazy brain crap and    yesterday I have coronary artery  disease, some blockages, some spasms, some super small arteries, I think they found out that the smurfs butt rocking Gargamel live in my heart who knows.


Your tweets, dm's, facebook posts, and emails mean a LOT.  Honestly I adore all of you crazy folks.
I have just as much hair on the dishes in my sink as I do on my floors. I am not spending much time on facebook or twitter.  I miss everyone but I really want to dance at my daughters wedding one day,  hold my yet to be dreamt up grandchildren and watch the prince who is 10 graduate.  Those things are far off in the future and damn it I intend to be here.   They say this shortens my life, whatever, they told my dad in 1987 he had 6  months.

So the entire " lifes a journey not a job thing,  take it serious folks,  rock every day, and who gives a crap if your socks don't match, or you spilled that lunch down the front of your shirt.  Rock it !


xo

PEACH OUT

**  Due to popular demand to see my 1/2 shave monkey/ beaver/groin   just like the 80's in Daytona totally free of charge.   These bruises were just from the first hospital stay.  honestly now I look even more like Violet Beauregaurde,  it's very sexy.   Very Very Sexy.

Don't you wish your Beaver was hot like me.  doncha, doncha..

A rose by any other name....

A woman walks into an  accountant's office and tells him that she needs to file her taxes.  

The accountant says,  "Before we begin, I'll need to ask you a few questions." He gets her name,  address, social security number, etc. And then asks, "What's your  occupation?"  

"I'm a prostitute,"  she says.  

The accountant is  somewhat taken aback and says, " Let's try to rephrase that."  

The woman says, "OK,  I'm a high-end call girl".  

"No, that still won't  work. Try again."  

They both think for a  minute; then the woman says, "I'm an elite chicken farmer."

The accountant asks,  "What does chicken farming have to do with being a  prostitute?"

"Well, I raised a  thousand little peckers last year."

"Chicken Farmer it is"

So here's the moral of the story folks.   It's all about presentation and marketing...

XO

PEACH OUT

10 Reasons I would hump a Navy Seal

Top 10 Reasons I would Hump a Navy Seal

Step 1-Go to Google

Step 2-Click on Images

Step 3- Type in Navy Seals and hit enter  

Step 4- Drool and Awe

yeah  they are awesome.

But the number 1 reason is that I am a fucking patriot, and I feel it is my civic duty and I will due whatever I can to serve the men who serve my country.  Ahem,  nudge nudge, wink wink you know what I mean, because DAMN  them Seals are the Seals that club back. I would also go clubbing with a navy seal.   grawr...  yumm and   nom... drool.  

XO

PEACH OUT

Not often seen here

Not often will you see me here,  act sane,  but today I have to take a minute to do this for some people I have never met and probably never will.

photo credit to wkrg.com news mobile alabama

It was nearly 20 years ago my world was turned upside down when my second child was born, I had no clue the words Apgar scores would mean so much and that lead me to write the 3 part series the hardest thing.

It was around 16 years ago I stood trembling in the road with my 2 babies as I watched everything I owned engulfed in a ball of orange while men in red trucks ran with hoses toward the ball. Then handed me a singular spoon, 1 tennis shoe and a blue plastic hanger to start our lives over.

It was 10 years ago when 58 days and 2 dear friends made the difference between the life and death of my darling Prince being alive today and being able to have a water balloon fight on his birthday this past weekend.

It was almost 6 years ago that a wall of water washed away 40 years of the hard work, memories, love and laughter of nearly everyone I know in the 4 counties around me.  Yet for some reason, I was left nearly untouched?  When not a school, fire department, hospital, or even a road was left,  why. I searched for families with gas cans we filled in other states, with laptops powered on generators, looking for people.  We painted on plywood and had adorable babies swimming in our bathtub to cool down.  We had a well, and a generator.  Our only damage was a trampoline that had flown over the house, grabbed the chimney and ripped off the fireplace which took down one wall, sure we lost the roof, but it stayed on, it merely snapped all the beams, we were indeed the lucky ones.   Everyone was so equal.  There were no socio economic classes.  There was no race, no crime, everyone helped everyone was the same here,  the roads were cleared by the neighbor men with chainsaws, the elderly were taken care of by the women with water, and the ladies who canned food shared with everyone.  The teens cleared debris and watched babies so the others could drive looking for lost loved ones, or missing homes.  You shared what you had, and you didn't ask for anything because everyone knew  what everyone needed and no Thanks was necessary.   ( in case you haven't figured it out that little storm was called Katrina)

It was less than 24 hours ago that over 200 people have lost their lives in my State and the States neighboring me.  It was 2 counties north of me it didn't even rain here.  I see the sunshine and wonder why as I run through my facebook and twitter trying to do a roll call to check on everyone.  There are no reasons I can offer.  There are no words I can write that can make anything better.  Nothing can take away the destruction, the loss, the pain, the hurt, the fear the will come back every time a dark cloud comes or those sirens ring out.  The simple words I am so sorry are not enough.  But I am.  For the people that today are without shelter, scared, worried, and wondering what to do,  there are people all over this little blue and green ball, thinking of you today that you will never know sending you good thoughts and strength. When it all feels lost, most things can be replaced, the things that can not, you must work hard to remember in your heart.

I  will leave you with the most worthless words on the planet, yet they are all I have.  I am so sorry.

From the Gulf Coast..   Sending love and good thoughts  to those in in pain.

XO

PEACH OUT

**photo credit to wkrg.com  mobile alabama**

Elevated

You can always gauge my day by what I am drinking.

I went from Orange juice.

to a Screw Driver

to Straight Vodka.

then I shut the door to the fridge.

Damn I hate mornings.

xo

PEACH OUT

I got some action yesterday

Yesterday I was sitting there reading this magazine article minding my own business and this hot guy walks in and sits down, we were alone in a tiny room.

He was hot.

I could tell he liked me, he barely made eye contact with me, but he struck up this intimate conversation, he wanted to know everything about me, and had a witty way about him, before you knew it I had put down my magazine. I spilled my guts and the conversation got very personal very quick.

Don't get me wrong I am happily married to the Droid and I don't go running around hap hazzardly flinging myself on men, it's  hard to contain this level of hotness on a daily basis but I do my best.  This guy was just so damn smooth.

Next thing I knew there he was looking me dead in the eyes, holding my hand, inches from my face. Can you say "awkward?"   

It didn't go any further than that.  However I did give him my name and phone number, I also agreed to see him again  in a couple weeks.   

The only thing that pisses me off about the entire thing was the co-pay.  I mean that just cheapens the relationship don't you think?  I couldn't figure out if I should call the girl who took my check his receptionist or a pimp?   I told Droid about it and he said next time I should go ahead and make him strip for me, so I get my money's worth.  

This is totally why our marriage works.

xo

PEACH OUT