I left a comment on Dr. Zaius' blog regarding John McCain's "moral bankruptcy." It turned out to be such a passionate diatribe, that I must share it with you. Fuck! I may rent a goddamned billboard and post it on the highway.

All these sub-simian assholes who talk about us "surrendering in Iraq" act like the IRAQIS are the ones who STARTED this stupid war! Listen up, McCain. The U.S. INVADED IRAQ! We SHOULDN'T HAVE! Our stated goal was to depose Sadaam Hussein. We did that. HE'S FUCKING DEAD! So let's just say (once again) MISSION ACCOMPLISHED AND GET THE HELL OUT of the Pottery Barn, before we break whatever's left there and before we FINISH BREAKING THE AMERICAN BANK!
Not that I'm upset or anything.

I've been tagged by Politits ! How cool is that? Answer: Very! I'm supposed to tell you seven LIES about myself. How hard is that? Answer: Not very!



1. I'm a tall, willowy Amazon with flame-red hair and jade-green eyes.




2. I love George W. Bush with all my heart and soul and not only that, when someone calls out to me, "Who's your daddy?" I shout back, with tears of joy in my eyes, "DICK CHENEY!"

3. Today, in a fit of religious fervor, I entered a nearby church, ripped off all of my clothes, prostrated myself on the alter, and shouted, "Take me Jesus!" Unfortunately, it turned out that today, being Saturday, there were no services and I interrupted the Lord's Undercover Sex Talk, but it turned out okay anyway.
4. I have decided that I don't give a flying fuck about getting fat, so I cancelled my membership at the gym and ate four sausage and black olive pizzas and two pounds of Ghirardelli chocolates. And that was just for breakfast!

5. I cleaned the entire house today, including washing all the windows, inside and out, waxed all the hardwood floors, took the venetian blinds down and washed every slat, snaked out all the drains, took the covers off all the ceiling lights and emptied out all the dead flies and moths, changed the shelf paper in all the cupboards and drawers, dusted every single surface - even the tops of the books on the shelves, polished all the brass fixtures, cleaned the oven and the refrigerator (even the freezer!), vacuumed the upholstery, brushed and flossed my teeth and douched! And that was BEFORE BREAKFAST!



6. I believe that men are vastly superior to women in every way and we women should always be subservient and respectful, expecting nothing in return, but show our undying gratitude for any small favor they may bestow upon us.


7. I am completely uninterested in anything related to sex, have no desire to engage in sexual activity, feel no interest in the unclothed, muscular, well-hung, male body, no matter how seductive his glances or how strong his hands or deft his tongue or....wait...I'm getting distracted...

Do you know what today is? It's three days past the Winter Soltice, that's what! The days are getting longer again, thank the universe. Hubby and I celebrated by going for a delightful walk in the woods. We walked along a sparkling, clear creek, along which we saw lots and lots of racoon foot/hand prints. No actual critters, just their tracks. There was plenty of sunshine and blue sky. So pretty.

Now I must get to work and comb through my short story file and choose something to send off to some magazine. That may not sound like a big deal to normal people like you, but it is a task I've been putting off for YEARS! I don't know if it's laziness or fear of rejection, or what, but I just don't do it. But on Sunday, I was visiting a friend who asked me how my writing was going. I said "Nowhere," and he admonished me. Then he gave me a pep talk (rah, rah!) and said he was giving me four days to do the deed. He will call me on Thursday to see if I follow through. Hey! No problem! I still have two more days...

Things I Like To Do When I'm In a Bad Mood

1. Sulk

2. Piss and moan

3. Pout

4. Curse

5. Throw rocks at squirrels

6. Blame others for my many misfortunes

7. Wonder what squirrels could possibly be good for, anyway.

8. Think about moving to Australia

9. Drink a cup of coffee

10. Start to feel better

You know what I'm sick of? Yeah, you're right. The answer is "things too numerous to recount." But right now, the things at the top of the list are as follows (in order of intensity of sickness):

1. Any public photos, articles about, talk about, or any other reference to fucking stupid Paris goddamned-drunk Hilton.

2. Any public photos, articles about, talk about, or any other reference to fucking stupid Britney goddamned-drunk Spears.

3. Any public photos, articles about, talk about, or any other reference to fucking stupid Nicole goddamned-drunk Richie.

4. Any public photos, articles about, talk about, or any other reference to fucking stupid Lindsey goddamned-drunk Lohan.

5. Stupid, fucking, goddamned freezing cold wind blowing all around my goddamned poorly insulated, leaky-windowed house.

There. I feel better now.

Languid Lists

I like to make lists. The act of writing down the tasks I should perform makes me feel like I am getting something done. There! It's all spelled out; the chores are enumerated (though I seldom go beyond number ten) and I feel a small surge of ambition. Then the phone rings, or I get hungry and wander into the kitchen, or spot the book I've been reading and pick it up, and the list is forgotten and gradually melts into the pile of papers on the desk (task #3 was "CLEAN UP PILE OF PAPERS ON DESK"), and I forget about it. But it did feel so good to take that first step.

-

I also like to self-diagnose my seemingly chronic condition of unaccomplishment. Could it be A.D.D. (Artists Don't Dust)? Or A.D.H.D. (Artists Dislike Handling Dirt)? Maybe it's G.E.R.D. (Geniuses Enjoy Rampant Disorder). I prefer not to think it's L.G.F.N.A

Sometimes one or two of the chores on the list keep knocking around in my head, even after the paper has disappeared. Right now the persistent unpleasantry is to WRITE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS LETTER. We don't even observe Christmas! Why do I have to write a goddamned Christmas letter? The answer is...Because my relatives send me their letters, I do love many of my relatives, so I have to send them my letter. I should be writing it right now. But you see what I AM doing; I'm posting on my blog. That is much easier. I don't have to try to sort through the past year of boring inactivity, trying to make things sound more interesting than they are.

Hmmmm...I think one of the things on some list, somewhere, is: EAT ALL THE CHOCOLATE YOU WANT! Hey, I can do that! Bye!

Ah-so. Say What?

According to the Washington Post, the Japanese are way out-blogging the English speakers of the world. The 130 million Japanese speakers post 37% of all blogs, while we laggard 1.1 BILLION Englishers post only 36%.

No wonder they make better cars than we do.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/12/05/AR2007120502751.html?wpisrc=newsletter&sid=ST2007120502854

Ten (count 'em) Reasons I'd Like to Live a Few More Years

1. The house is a mess. There are surfaces that haven't been dusted in at least six months. I don't want to suffer from PMS (Post-Mortem Shame) if that fact were to be discovered by someone like...say...my MOTHER-IN-LAW!

2. I must find and destroy all my various diaries before I bite the dust (and, as I mentioned in #1, there is lots of dust in this house.)

3. I've been thinking of taking a Figure Drawing class at the local art school. I've heard that the male model resembles a stallion in some areas...

4. I want to make love to Hubby at least 1,000 more times. Let's see...3 x a week, that's 156 x a year, so I'd have to live at least 6.41 more years to reach that goal. Wait, let's make that "at least 2,000 more times."

5. I really, really want to learn how to play Texas Hold 'em.

6. I really, really want one of my shy short stories to send itself to some magazine and demand to get itself published, before I close the book on my mortal coil.

7. And then there are all those boxes of photos sitting on the shelf, next to the empty albums...

There's some small chance that my kids would be less likely to just dump the pictures, if they were all neatly mounted and labeled.

8. And Muscat grapes! I haven't eaten Muscat grapes since I was in Spain, in 1990. They were my favorite grapes when I lived in California, back in the good old days, when you could still find grapes with flavor. So...maybe I'll plant a Muscat vine this spring, if I can find one in some arcane catalogue.

9. I'd like to live long enought to see pot legalized. Que cree? Posible o no?

10. But most of all, I want to solve that Sweet Mystery of Life,

oh...and maybe get a pet chimpanzee

Just Give Me a Couple of Days...It'll Get Better

Tonight I feel tired, old and useless...like I'm just "running out the clock." I have no dreams anymore, no aspirations, no hopes. I am conscious of my mortality and sometimes I think "good, I don't want to live much longer." What's the point? I attempt little, and accomplish less. My life has no significance. I am just one molecule in the vast swarm of human life occupying an overburdened planet. It's time to...

IT'S TIME TO EAT SOME CHOCOLATE!

And drink some COFFEE!

And listen to some good SALSA MUSIC!

And wake up hubby...

M-M-M-M-M...Life is good.

True or False?

What difference does it make? If I tell a story, and claim it's true, but only I could know for sure, it doesn't matter whether it's true or not. For example, if I tell you that I witnessed a murder when I was a child, but I don't name names, you would have no way of disproving my claim, and no reason to try. I have not incriminated anyone, and it could explain some of my odd behaviour as an adult. But if I told you that yesterday I witnessed my neighbor killing his wife, but today his wife is outside raking leaves and looking quite healthy and unscathed, my story could have any number of unfortunate consequences; not the least of which would be you suspecting that I have gone over the edge.

So...I have decided to re-write some of my life's stories, and give them happier endings than they had in the first telling. Then I will repeat those new, improved stories to myself, over and over, until they, effectively, become true. I'll start with my childhood. Mama didn't abandon my sisters and me when we were little; she stayed with Daddy and we had an idyllic childhood. The plastic surgery on my harelip was a big success, and I looked "normal," and kids didn't make fun of me any more. When I was sixteen and went for a walk with a neighbor boy and he lured me into the woods, where four of his friends were waiting, they didn't rape me, because I fought like a tigress and they ran away like frightened rabbits.

I'm feeling better already! And it doesn't matter whether these renditions are technically "true" or not. Mama and Daddy are dead. My sisters will never read my story. My schoolmates are scattered and would not remember me anyway. And those five boys are burning in hell, I hope. Oops, I'm getting away from the mission. THEY DIDN'T RAPE ME, BECAUSE I FOUGHT LIKE A TIGRESS AND THEY RAN AWAY LIKE FRIGHTENED RABBITS! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Tomorrow I'll perform some "plastic surgery" on some other unpleasant "falsehoods" and convert them to pleasant "truths."

Things I Like to Do in the Dark

1. No, not that, you naughty people! I want the lights on for that.

2. Stand in front of a mirror and pretend that I am beautiful.

3. Stand in front of a mirror and, seeing no reflection, wonder if I am a werewolf.

4. Solve complicated calculus problems in my head.

5. Pretend that I am still in my mother's womb, and will be able to start my life over again, knowing what I know now.

6. Sing "You are my Sunshine."

7. Enjoy knowing that it doesn't matter if I am wearing my glasses or not.

8. Stand naked, in front of the living room window.

9. Pretend that the house is all clean and dust-free.

10. Swoop around the house, pretending I am a bat.

11. Catch mosquitoes with my tongue.

12. Sample different bottles of wine and try to guess which ones are red and which are white and wonder what the hell difference it makes if you can't see them?

13. Wonder if it's true that "all cats are grey in the dark."

14. Read "Black Like Me."

15. Try to remember where I put the remote control, so I can turn on the TV if I get tired of enjoying the dark.

Coffee, Tea or Espresso, Ma'am?

Okay, I'm totally revved up on coffee and am going to post something on here about the joys of caffeine. I used to think I should give up caffeine, because it made my heart "race." Now, after having given up giving up, I have decided that a racing heart is better than no heart at all, which is what I felt like I had when I was dragging my ass around with no chemical enhancement. So now I suck up coffee like I used to do with coke, and while it's not nearly as good, it's the best LEGAL high I can get, so fuck it all, I'll have my tiny high with no regrets, at least until my racing heart crosses the finish line.

No Thanks, I'd Rather Listen to Dr. Dean

Yesterday, I was reading Cunning Runt's cunning rant about the gaseous right-wing commentators dominating the radio airwaves in today's hell-bound America. He focused on Rush Limbaugh, which is appropriate, I suppose, because he's been around the longest and is the best known, but I don't think he's the worst of the rabid pack. Granted, Rush is a loudmouthed, obnoxious blowhard, and I am distressed by the amount of influence he exerts. But, I believe he is intelligent, and knows what he's doing, and he's doing it for the money. In other words, he has no soul and no heart, but he does have a brain.

Now...let me mention the loudmouthed, blowing asshole whom I would like to banish to the hinterlands. SEAN HANNITY! I'm pretty darned sure that this man actually BELIEVES what he says. He excoriates the "Liberals" and "Democrats" as though they are the spawn of Satan. EVERYTHING the L's and D's say or write is stupid and/or evil, in his opinion. And so much of what he says is so blatantly hypocritical that I cannot understand how he doesn't realize it. e.g. "The Libs want absolute power. They want to force their beliefs down our throats. They're so convinced they're right that they won't listen to anybody else." (These are not literal quotes, but summarize the essence of his diatribes.) Substitute "ultra-conservative' religious-right-wing nut jobs" for "Libs," and you and I can see that those characteristics apply even better to that camp. Of course, Rush makes equally hypocritical statements, but at least he injects some humor (though not as much as in his pre-druggy days) into his blather.

Does anyone here know why the Right Wing dominates the airwaves to the extent they do? The only liberal viewpoints I’m exposed to are here in the blogosphere.

I'm almost done with the saga of Pan-man, on Z-rated. One more post should do it. Sigh. He was such a god.

Top Two Reasons Why America Has a HUGE National Debt

1. The government spends too much money.

2. The government does not tax the people enough to pay for the spending.

Top Two Reasons Why the Government Spends too Much Money

1. The administration loves to wage war (as long as they, personally, don't have to do the fighting), no matter how much it costs.

2. The country is consumed by an entitlement mentality.

Top Two Reasons Why the Government does not raise taxes to pay for the spending

1. If the gov't raised taxes, the populace would wake up and pay attention to where the money is going, and then kick the assholes out of office.

2. They can borrow all the money they want from China...so far...

Top Ten Reasons Why I Like My Blog

1. No one can interupt me while I'm talking.
2. No one reading it knows what I look like behind those green sunglasses.
3. I can say any fucking shit I want to.
4. I get entertaining comments from people like distributorcap, jewgirl and dcup.
5. I set it up ALL BY MYSELF! (OK, OK, I didn't create the blogspot software, smart aleck)
6. It's more entertaining than anything on tv (with the possible exception of Wheel of Fortune).
7. I don't need an agent to get published.
8. It doesn't contribute to global warming.
9. It keeps me off the streets at night.
And...Number 10...it rhymes with FROG!

Mission Accomplished!

Pan-man has been expunged from the pristine pages of "get your zs" and banished to the dark and frightening world of "Z-rated."

Unfortunately, the effort required to complete that mission has exhausted my alloted time for fooling around on the computer. So...the completion of Chapter 5 will have to wait...again...

Shy, dainty flower that I am, I started getting uncomfortable with posting this lasivious tale on "get-your-zs." So...I will continue the story on my other blog, Z-rated . THEN, stretching my fragile tech skills beyond their limit, I will attempt to TRANSFER chapters 1 through 4 to
Z-rated. My hands are trembling...my eyelids are twitching...cold sweat is gathering on my forehead...

Here goes...

Hmmm...I think I'm going to pull a "Kelso" here. I'm not going to go to the trouble of continuing the saga of Pan-man and the conference table, if only one person is going to read it. I thought I'd as least get some attention from my favorite femmy bloggers, like Katie, dcup and the Smack . But no dice. Sniffle, whine. And where is Captain Smack, when I need a smile to brighten my dreary day? I am grateful to Distributorcap for stopping by. I felt a bit of a lift from his kindness.

Maybe I'll just do an "infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of computers" thing, instead of my usual more arduous post.

Here goes...

mcourqfnldkqnsjfew reufqp jqjf ;jfaifjr as;tur93a.fjaper f vncscxdqirr/ cidfa;r3jrljrqw ; dkfew5q'jrl;ew5j ;suew;jk fs vasl;jfrjg ksjf nba;rjt;naporiq qnkadfjoqhqkwjiwurqhA;LRHHG;UFPN VJF0D958 RKU44J6;QWUW QTJURWJQT JQEW5Q'UTQ 3T DINF hf9oerjqlfjwp8543;nioeur1'jfeqhr4 ,mfasd985 ied;58nfdjrq;qjq'ffn4358fekqt ;eieyqewpqhfNFJDQNFOQR7JIQRWE SARUIRNFQ;FJ...



Okay, does it sound like Shakespeare yet?

Septuple

Well, nobody actually asked, but I was inspired by Politits , who was inspired by Freida Bee , to think of seven more things about my illustrious self.

1. I'm pretty sure that I saw a flying saucer, on the night of July 5, 1976, while camping in North Dakota.

2. The best sex I ever had took place on the conference table in the business office where I worked. (After closing time, of course...)

3. I was 30 years old before I learned that the "b" is silent in the word "subtle."

4. Until I was almost 10 years old, I thought that pregnancy was caused by the preacher saying, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

5. I don't understand how some people can believe that you get a ticket to heaven by detonating a bomb strapped to him/herself and ripping bystanders, men, women and children, to bloody shreds.

6. But then, I don't understand how ANYONE past the age of 7 can believe in heaven.

7. One of my best friends tells me that I am the most neurotic person she's ever known. I tell HER that "birds of a feather flock together."

The Real Me - In All My Flaming Glory

The totally rad Miss Smack sent me a photo of myself which she noticed in Vogue Magazine. It's one of my favorites, so I'm posting it for your viewing pleasure.

Believe me, it's not easy being this gorgeous. The meshugana paparazzi hound me, everywhere I go. Always with the flashbulbs!

Important Lessons I Have Learned the Hard Way

1. Do not, under any circumstances, try to shave your underarms with a bare razor blade.

2. Do not set the cookbook, the cutting board, or your special China cup on the burner of an electric range, thinking that it is not "on."

3. Do not slip a soggy dumpling off of your plate and into your pants pocket, thinking that the hostess will not see you and subsequently tattle on you in front of all the neighbor ladies.

4. Do not try to dance the Polka when you are 8 1/2 months pregnant.


5. Do not go to your first opera, wearing a dress that zips up the back, unless you are sure it is zipped.

6. If you're still a lot smaller than your mother, do not tell her, when she tells you it's time to get up, "If you think I'm getting up now, you're full of shit," even if you did hear your father tell her that.

7. Do not leave your purse on the hood of a car, in a public parking lot, while chatting with a friend, and then walk away.

8. Do not leave your purse on the chair of a restaurant in a small town in southern Utah, and then get in your car and drive all the way to Salt Lake City.

9. Do not leave your purse on the table in a public library, while you go to the rest room.

10. Learn from your mistakes and stop carrying a purse...large pockets will do just fine.

11. Do not let your doofus aunt give you a home permanent.

12. Do not let your bare leg touch the exhaust pipe of your motorcycle.

13. Do not drop your rowing machine on your bare, big toe.

14. Do not fight with your little sister, who is now bigger than you are, over who gets to wear the tiger-striped swimsuit.

15. Do not try to retroactively mask the sound of an accidental fart by making another, louder noise afterward.

16. Do not let a beautician, whose right hand is in a cast, give you a perm,

when she must wait for another beautician to have time to rinse the

perm-solution-from-hell out of your former hair.

17. Ditch the whole perm thing, altogether. Straight is great.

18. Do not leave your very favorite hat, the only hat you've ever liked, in the basket of your bike while you go into the K-Mart.

19. Do not sleep with a guy, just because you're afraid of hurting his feelings if you don't.

20. Do not marry a man who tells you on your honeymoon that "A ship can have only one captain," and you know that he isn't referring to you.


21. Do not go swimming in a public pool unless you are absolutely sure that the top of your swim suit is SECURELY FASTENED.

22. Do not drop a tab of LSD when you are supposed to go to work five hours later.

23. Do not eat a second magic brownie because the first one's "not working."

24. Do not get married until you're at least 30 or 40 years old.

25. Do not attempt to pronounce any French word, unless you are French.

My font is blue and so am I. Hubby and I just fight and fight over the STUPIDEST things. He prods me with incendiary remarks and I TRY to keep my temper under control, but he picks and picks until I blow. Then he has the satisfaction of thinking that the whole problem is because I am insane, nuts, neurotic or whatever his adjective du jour is. I hate to fight! He loves to fight! Fuck it!

I ended up getting in the car and driving away, not knowing where I was going. But I was afraid I'd have a wreck, if I kept on driving in that condition (DWI - Driving While Insane), so I just pulled over to the curb and sat there for an hour. Now I'm home and don't know what to do.

101 Things You’ve Always Wanted to Know About Me

1. I’m grouchy in the morning.

2. I’m often grouchy in the afternoon.

3. I’m seldom grouchy in the evening, unless someone persists in irritating me.

4. I dislike the color blue, probably because my little sister Julie had blue eyes and everyone was always saying how pretty she was, and I had brown eyes and no one ever said how pretty I was.

5. Now I have green eyes and I’m very pretty.
6. My favorite color is red-orange and I have red-orange hair. It is very pretty.

7. When I was a little girl, my dad said that I ran like a turkey. Is that good or bad?.

8. Now I run like a gazelle. Okay, maybe a gazelle with three legs…

9. When I was sixteen, my dad said that I played the piano like I had lint in my navel. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.

10. Now my navel is lint-free.

11. I lived in foster homes, off and on, from age 4 to 9. It sucked.

12. My mother was married five times. She was divorced once. That was before record keeping was computerized.

13. I have been married twice and divorced once, but not in that order.

14. I’ve changed my first name three times. I like the final one a lot and will stick with it. It starts with a “Z,” which is my favorite letter.

15. When I was 13 I attempted to throw a rotten watermelon from a moving car onto the steps of my junior high school, but it landed on the curb. Stupid watermelon.

16. When I was 14, I got really, really drunk on straight whiskey and puked my guts out for the next several hours. That was a long time ago and hasn’t happened since. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid…or something like that.

17. I went to four different schools in fourth grade. That sucked.

18. My mother said that I was “a selfish brat,” just because I re-possessed the birthday gift that I had just given to my little sister. SHE WASN’T USING IT CORRECTLY, DARN IT!!

19. Actually, I really was a selfish brat. I still am. GET AWAY FROM MY CHOCOLATE!

20. I am an Atheist, goddamn it!

21. I pretend to be tolerant of religious nuts, but I think they’re stupid.

22. I think religious nuts should mind their own fucking business and stop trying to legislate morality.

23. I never use profanity except when it is warranted.

24. When I was 16, I necked with my high school History teacher. It was all his fault. He was too handsome.

25. When I was 26, I necked with my mother’s fourth husband. He was a good kisser, but a bad husband.

26. I have shoplifted. Twice. When I was 14, I stole a wallet. When I was 25, poor and powerless, I walked out of the store with a shiny, new extension cord. Really!

27. When I was 29, I went to a Halloween party, dressed as a tube of Crest toothpaste. My breath was minty fresh.

28. I know life isn’t fair, but why not? It’s not fair!

29. I would like to impose a worldwide, absolute law that would require a minimum age of 50 for any and all members of any and all military or pseudo-military groups. I’m pretty sure that would put the brakes on war.

30.I do not wish to listen to any popular music produced after 1985. It is not music.

31. I realize that I sound like my father when I say that.

32. The only sport I was ever good at is Poker. Make that “the only sport I didn’t SUCK AT was Poker.”

33. Yes, I do realize that I have 69 more things to come up with. Quit nagging me!

34. 69 is my favorite number.

35. It’s difficult to concentrate when I’m thinking of it, however.

36. Chimpanzees are my favorite animals, but I wouldn’t want to be one.

37. I like to dance to salsa music, especially when it’s hot and humid and the sweat pours down all my crevices.
38. Not that I have any more crevices than the next guy.

39. I lived in a boxcar for the first year of my life.

40. I liked it there, because I had no pesky little sisters yet.

41. I like to look at big, muscley men, but I don't want them to shave their bodies.
42. I went to a lowbrow Chippendale-style performance once. Those guys were so incredibly sexy; I was ready to tear their tiny little briefs right off of them! All of the women in the audience were hootin’ and hollerin’.

43. I wish I had a pair of ruby slippers.

44. I wish I could make myself invisible, at will. Oh...wait! You can't see me, can you?

45. I wish I were fluent in Spanish.

46. I’m glad I’m not a cannibal.

47. I’m glad I’m not pregnant.

48. I’m glad I’m almost half-done with this list.

49. When I was 29, I went white-water rafting on the Green River and our raft ran straight into a huge rock in the middle of the stream and I didn’t fall out of the raft, which was a good thing, because I can’t swim.

50. Once upon a time, I was nude-sunbathing on a small, rocky island in Lake Powell, thinking I was all alone, when a motor boat with several men came putt-putting up next to me. I just rolled over on my stomach and closed my eyes, willing them to go away. They did, eventually.

51. And then there was the time when I chased a bunch of armed hunters off of our farm, with nothing but my anger and a lot of profanity.

52. Two years ago I was in Italy, and I found my own way from Assisi to the Tiemplo di Minerva, using only my steely-eyed determination and 12 words of Italian.

53. I wish I were fluent in Italian.

54. I wish I could make love to one of the gondoliers in Venice.

55. I wish I could make love to that glassblower in the glass factory I visited in Murano. He was a big, muscley man.

56. I was proud of myself when I made it to the top of Angel’s Landing, in Zion National Park, in Utah, even though I was certain I would not live to include it in this list.

57. Last year, I forded a wild stream in Kauai, holding onto a rope that was entirely inadequate and I would have been swept over the falls if a big, muscley surfer-dude had not come to my rescue.

58. I almost always wear underwear when I’m in public.

59. haven’t gone hang-gliding yet. I’m waiting until the doctor tells me I have only six months to live.

60. I fucked boyfriend du jour in a graveyard once. Once was enough.

61. I tried to commit suicide once, but it didn’t work.

62. Now I take Zoloft and I love being alive.

63. I am covered with tatoos.

64. When I was 15 I went to a hypnotist and he tried to hypnotize me, but it wasn’t working, and I told him it wasn’t working and he got mad at me, so I pretended it was working, and he was so thrilled with his success that he wanted me to be his subject in a demonstration he was going to give.

65. I had an uncle who was a dirty, fucking, pedophile creep and I hope he burns and rots in hell.

66. Not that I hold any grudges or anything.

67. I get annoyed with adults who don’t know the difference between “their,” “they’re,” and “there.”

68. I get annoyed with adults who think that you make a plural by adding apostrophe s to a noun. e.g. “I have two husband’s.” Didn’t you go to school, you pitiful excuse for a human being?

69. I get annoyed with everyone and anyone who starts a sentence with the word “Me,” as in “Me and Mike were gittin’ it on!” It’s “Mike and I,” motherfuckers!

70. Sometimes, I get annoyed with myself for being so intolerant, but mostly I’m okay with it.

71. I ate frog legs once, just to be able to say I had done it. It was nasty. I felt so guilty. Poor little frogs. As if they don’t have enough problems, with loss of habitat and all.

72. I tried escargot too. I brushed my teeth about six times afterwards.

73. Talk about guilt! For the first thirty years of my life, I felt guilty about masturbating. Now it’s all good. It has been helpful to read blogs about the shame-free way that men relate tales of their solo escapades.

74. I have never faked an orgasm. And if you believe that, you must be a man.

75. I go to the gym three times a week and work out for 1½ hours each time. But I feel guilty that I’m not getting the exercise by doing actual, productive work.

76. I feel guilty about feeling guilty.

77. I hate cooked carrots, but I don’t feel guilty for hating them. They deserve it. Stupid carrots.

78. I’m left-handed, but I masturbate with my right hand. Go figure.

79. I plan to wash all the windows in my house, as soon as hell freezes over.

80. I thought I was in love once, but it was just gas.

81. I can read palms. You will lead a long and happy life…oh dear, wait…never mind, let’s talk about something else.

82. I’ve never met a vibrator I didn’t like.

83. I am really hungry right now, so I’m going to go get something good to eat and try not to feel guilty about it, even though I know I will, because I promised myself I wouldn’t eat anything fattening tonight, but everything that sounds good to me is fattening!

84. No man has ever beaten me up, but if one ever tries, I can guarantee he’ll be sorry.
85. I float like a moth and sting like a wasp…on steroids. I’m a pretty good boxer, too. (Not really.)

86. My ex and I went to a nudist camp several times, back in the 80’s. It was an eye-opening experience. I was amazed at the variation in size, shape, color, and condition of the bare-naked penises. Most of the men were able to keep them deflated, but one well-endowed teenager was at half-mast most of the time. It was quite entertaining.

87. I learned the hard way that I must never tell a Jehovah’s Witness missionary that I am an Atheist. It is like waving raw meat in front of a lion.

88. When I was five years old, a neighbor girl hit me across the head with a two-by-four. So I killed her. (Only one of these sentences is true.)

89. While I’ve never done any actual research on the subject, I suspect that lesbians give better cunnilingus than men do, since they actually know THE LOCATION OF THE CLITORIS!

90. I can crush Japanese Beetles with my bare fingers.

91. I think the sale and use of marijuana should be legal. Period! Exclamation mark:

92. My favorite pen is in the shape of a flamingo, with lots of bright pink feathers on top of its head.

93. Sometimes I wish I had a pet, preferably an orange-haired kitty, but then I smoke a joint and forget about it.

94. I tried smoking oregano once. Mama mia! It was disappointing.

95. I cry over spilt milk.

96. I truly believe that two wrongs make a right.

97. You CAN have your cake and eat it too. It will be stored in that roll of fat around your waist.

98. Sometimes I think I may have a split personality. But then someone inside my head assures me that I don’t.

99. A rose is a rose is a rose, unless it’s a banana. In that case, it might have a “split” personality. Get it? A banana split? Never mind.

100. I’m nearing the finish line! My heart is pounding like an angry judge’s gavel. I’m out of breath. I think I may throw up! But no, I can’t quit now, no matter how much you would like me to!

101. I cooked a man in Crisco, just to watch him fry.