…to bring you this message:
The Pittsburgh Penguins Are Up Three To Nothing Against The Philadelphia Flyers
For those of you are aren’t into hockey, I’m sorry that you really have no idea what you are missing. Great sport. (Sorry, Avitable. Sorry, Fabby. You boys will never take the sports lover outta me. (That’s what Karl said.)) Especially when Lord Stanely’s Cup is so close.
I was to be packing for my trade show in Reno this evening, but the game was calling and well, I got sucked in. In my defense, I really appreciated the down time. Today was a bitch at the office. Let us just say that at one point someone had a baseball bat and others were considering fleeing the building. Yeah. Rough day. So I enjoyed veggin out with the hockey game. Didn’t hurt that my Pens won. Again. I am a happy girl. An exhausted and unpacked happy girl, but a happy girl none the less.
OH!! I almost forgot to tell you that I think I am gonna have the opportunity to watch Ginamonster’s roller derby team practice while I am out in Reno. In case you aren’t sure who Gina is, she is the incredibly crafty and talented (and oh so gorgeous) woman who I will be chocolate pudding wrestling when Jester and Othurme get their shit together.
Ok. Off to pack now. And hopefully sleep.
xoxo
I can’t apologize enough for my terrible posting skillz. Bad Becky. (Anyone wanna spank me?)
But even worse? That I don’t have a real post for yinz. Work has been wild in a good way, personal life has been fulfilling (even though I totally didn’t bang that hot bald and goateed guy on the plane…while it would have been phenomenal to join the mile high club, I really am not a whore. Damn morals!), but that means my internet life has taken a back seat. For that I am truly sorry. Because I made some incredible friends in Philly, folks I want to read and have read me.
But right now? Now i have just returned home, fed the dogs, thrown the big red ball and I’m out the door to pick up K & B so that we can watch the hockey game. Tonight is the first night the Penguins take on the much hated Flyers. Should be a great, physical game. Which starts entirely too soon…I am so not ready. Ugggghhhhhhhhh!
GO PENS!!!
I am so thankful that Friday is here. This week is one that I will never forget. There is no way that I can properly convey my need for a weekend away.
Good news is Friday is here. I will feed the dogs as usual around 6 or 6:30, then pack up the boys and schlep them to their socialized play kennel. (What a blessing that place is! Both of my boys get to play with 15 other dogs all day, exhausting them for the night in doggie jail. I am grateful that they aren’t locked up in a small box 24 hours a day.) Return from dropping them off and empty out the vehicle. Gotta shower and finish packing, then hit the road by 8:30. Directions are already printed. Look out Philly, I will be on my way.
Karl flies in around 2 when I arrive (and since I totally crush on Karl I am picking him up at the airport…wheeeeeeee!), Britt and Adam are in around 3, then Hilly finally gets in close 5:30 or so. At that point the drinking may really begin. My vehicle is large enough so I will be doing the airport runs. It will save folks on car rentals or cabs, plus Adam has graciously volunteered to be our designated driver so that my drunk ass doesn’t have to worry about a DUI. (Thanks, Adam!) Cross your fingers that I won’t drool all over Karl all night. 
Othurme and Jester and Winter want drunk dials. They made the mistake of giving me their phone numbers. My phone needs a breathalyzer as it is, them asking for calls is downright wrong. Although Turnbaby, Killer, DVD and Fabby will probably all suffer as well. I love the drunk dial. Especially at inappropriate times. Sorry in advance. I know not what I will say. xoxo
Looking forward to sharing stories with you. Looking forward to taking half nekkid photos to share with you. I just hope that I can survive the weekend in order to get to San Antonio in one piece next week.
OH! Speaking of surviving, I went to Benihana with Twinkle Twat and a great friend Thursday night. Just sat at the bar (so that we could watch the Penguins game…how the fuck could they have lost without even scoring one goal? uggggh!) and had sushi while drinking too much. Those girls are so funny that it was easy to concentrate on the fun of the night. They make living like living instead of just surviving another day. Even if our hot bartender wouldn’t fully go along with Topless Thursday. We threatened to come back for Take Your Pants off Tuesday. He encouraged our behavior. Although I gotta admit, his stomach makes me desire Topless Thursdays the most. Even though he is only 31 and I typically desire older guys, I could enjoy eating M&M’s off of his chest. yum…
P.S. I leave you with this thought. I am sharing a room with Hilly and Britt. All that femininity in one room, snuggled together. Keep that thought. Photos to follow…
Happy weekend. Thanks for being here for me. You are loved. Yes, you.
Why do we spend our good money on items that advertise for someone else? I do it all the time…the Harley watch, the Maker’s Mark hat, the t shirt from the Dead Dog Saloon in Myrtle, the Life is Good flip flops. Sometimes I am a walking billboard. I would have killed to win one of Dave2’s t-shirts or hats, but I would have broke down and bought one if I didn’t win. (Good news is that I won a shirt…yay!)
Anyone who has ever flown to Pittsburgh will notice a good portion of the plane’s passengers are wearing Steelers gear…sweatshirts, hats, t-shirts, whatever. They might have on Penguins or Pirates logos, but usually it is Steelers stuff, regardless of the season.
Considering as much as I do it myself, I still don’t understand it. Well, I totally get the black and gold pride so I can appreciate the gearing up for a flight home, but what about the corporations we advertise for? We pay VERY good money for some of the items we walk around in, yet do those companies show us any love? Do we get any breaks in prices of the gear? Oh hell no.
I looked at the photo below which taken at a friend’s recently and couldn’t believe what I saw. Me in the special edition St. Patrick’s Day Penguins hat (oh so not cheap, even after the High Holy Day) and a wonderfully thick Harley Davidson anniversary sweatshirt, holding Maker’s Mark soaked cherries that I bought at the distillery a few weeks ago. What you can’t see is the Harley Davidson reversible belt that I was also wearing. Watch, too. What was I thinking?
Damn it, I am no better than anyone else with this Walking Billboard crap. Can someone play shrink for a day and tell me why we willingly do this? Why we whore ourselves out in this manner?
Next thing you know we will be bagging our own groceries. Oh wait, that is another pet peeve for another day…but at least I don’t do that one.
What a fun, internet filled Sunday. Jester seemed to be on every BTR show but Karl’s today. And the man was on a roll. Not being folks to let a good thing go to bed at a reasonable hour, we found another show to crash, but this time the folks didn’t know us. Othurme, Shiny, Winter, Jester and I immediately started discussing bacon houses and other topics in the chat room while Jester dialed the phone. Damned if they didn’t welcome him into the conversation! Too bad next Sunday isn’t available for more Jester Rolling.
Since I mentioned bacon, especially for my dear friend Othurme, I give you all, the Bacon Bra:
Speaking of Othurme, every time I holler JACKIE CHAN! on Twitter or in a chat room he replies CHUCK NORRIS. Except that he doesn’t understand why it is so terribly funny. I’m certain that this little explanation probably won’t be as funny as if you were there for the original conversation, but I’ll try to explain it anyhow.
See, we were talking about sexual positions and various sexual acts. Someone mentioned the Shocker. It sort of went downhill from there and That Guy hollered “Jackie Chan” as he did a sort of karate chop that involved four fingers held tightly together being thrust forward. For some reason (beer) I found this absolutely hysterical. I mean, the Shocker is funny, but this was something I had never heard of. And I couldn’t quit laughing. My response was, “Ouch! If anyone ever tried to do that to me, I would go all Chuck Norris on their ass.” That evening, any time there was a lull in the conversation, someone would karate chop out and holler “Jackie Chan.” I cried and peed a little every time. (See, I told you that you had to be there.)
A week later I was in Kentucky for the Maker’s Mark Mile and the Jackie Chan comment was thrown about often. And I do mean often. It just blossomed into something that cracks me up every single time I hear it.
Best part of this weekend? Winning one of Dave2’s prizes over at his 5th Blogiversary party! Yay!!! I won a t-shirt and pins. Scha-weeeeet! Thanks so much for entertaining us, Dave. I can’t wait to have a drink with you in Philly this weekend. And I would be willing to bet that the shirt finds its way to a half nekkid Thursday. hehe
I also found out that one can make temporary tattoos at home:
(Kyra said this isn’t the best product, but it would be a start to get me in the right direction. Thanks, pretty lady!)
ANYhow, this weekend I didn’t do a damn thing. Even though there is more than lots to do. And you know what? It felt great. Seems like it is going to be a long time before I get to do nothing again.
Hope your weekend was fantastic. I know someone’s was. *giggling*
It is almost 3 and I don’t even have a post up today. What a frikken slacker I am sometimes. Although, in my defense, I had a busy week last week. No matter how gorgeous my hotel was, and how comfy the king sized bed was, I didn’t get much sleep in Atlantic City. There was too much Ketel One to be consumed, too many people to watch, too much fun to be had. Oh yeah, and I had to work the trade show floor also. On top of all of that, travel wipes me out.
Don’t feel too sorry for me being tired, though. We had the good fortune of traveling first class this trip…having a limo pick us up in Philly for the drive to Atlantic City, staying in a new, first rate hotel. Every time we went to the convention center the limo delivered us. Normally I am not a fan of limos, but this trip I found myself enjoying having all of us in the same vehicle instead of having to take several cabs. And the free water, pop, pretzels, peanut M & M’s, etc. was a nice touch. Especially when my hungover self needed to refuel.
In an effort to rest so that I don’t get sick (especially with TC coming up), today the dogs and I are really enjoying this relaxing Saturday. There are tons of things that I really need to take care of and I should be cleaning, but my Mom always said “Don’t should on yourself” and I am taking that advice today. Not doing a damn thing. For a long while I was outside with the boys, throwing the ball for Ludo. When it was about to start raining I came inside to dig around in Dave2’s archives. That man is amazing. Here it is his 5th blogiversary and he is giving us prizes. Blogography is such a gift in and of itself, yet he has all kinds of t-shirts and playing cards and buttons and drawings and himself to give. I WANNA WIN!! Mostly to be able to drag Dave all over the Burgh and to have him create a custom artwork image just for me. That would be entirely too cool. Good news is that even if I don’t win the contest I will have the opportunity to meet Dave in Philly next weekend. Guess that is a pretty decent consolation prize.
Speaking of TequilaCon, many of my friends are baffled that I am willing to drive five hours to hang out with 50 to 60 bloggers that I have never met before. Honestly, I appreciate their concern, but some of these people are already friends even if I have never seen them in person before. If they are gonna chop me up in little pieces, I really don’t think it will be done by a blogger at the hotel in Philly. Hell, I have a better chance of a complete stranger strangling me in Philly…that town has a few rough patches!
i appreciate that my friends care. I really do. It is nice to be cared about. Of course, if I ever forget how loved I am, I only need to view this photo that was taken while trying to type to you all:
hehe
Happy Saturday to all.
xoxo
Here I am in Atlantic City, tired and actually the first one to leave the festivities for bed. (Yes alone, fuckers. Get your minds outta the gutter. Just because I joke about being a total slut doesn’t mean that I truly am. Sheesh.) Apparently there is a website that claims to know my worth in bed. I took the quick quiz and read this:
“Congratulations, you’re worth MORE in bed than the average ($232.15602769299) person taking this quiz!”
Schweet!!! Maybe I was wrong and I really am a who-rrrrrrrrrrrr.
Then I see this:
Powered By Miami Limo
Wait, what??!?!?! Seriously, what the fuck? They are so wrong! I mean, not wrong that i am not a skank, but wrong that I am worth so little. If that skinny bitch could get four grand for one hour with the gov. of New York, I can get more than that. Sigh.
Stupid computer quizzes. Why do I take them again?
(Please tell me that someone took this and are worth less than me. I mean more than me. I mean…fuck. I don’t know which is worse.)
The Pittsburgh Pirates suck so badly that the suckage is audible in Canada. The Buccos were on the wrong end of a 10 to 4 loss on Monday night.
The strange part is that I really don’t care. I love a night at our ballpark, one of the most beautiful parks in the country. My favorite Canadian was down from never never land where he resides. He was staying with my Security Blanket, my Wubbie, and his wife. Plus their four kids. Yep, FOUR. Whew! Somehow they managed to get someone to stay with the small army of kids so that we could catch the Pirates game. Here is a photo of the three of them at the game:
I made my Favorite Canuck wear a Pirates hat in the colors of his beloved Habs (he received hockey up-dates frequently from home…Montreal won so he was elated). It was a hat from the Fourth of July, but I didn’t tell him that.
We ate sammiches, drank beer, talked and laughed. It was so much fun that honestly I didn’t even really mind that the Buccos were losing. I mean, we were at the most beautiful ballpark in the country. And these are some of the best men I know. You folks have heard me complain about some of the men at trade shows, but these are the men who redeem my faith in men. I would do anything for either of them. And they always take care of me.
An interesting moment occurred early in the evening when we had just met and were having a few beers in the parking lot before the game. I had given my Favorite Canuck his ‘welcome to Pittsburgh’ presents (hockey related gear) and we were standing around, getting caught up with the festivities that we all had recently experienced. The boys told me about last week in Vegas for a show, I told them about my Maker’s Mark weekend. When I got to the part about getting the Strong Woman tattoo on the day that Mom had died, my Wubbie got sort of quiet and asked what the date was. Turns out his Dad died last year on the very same day.
Are you shitting me? The man who allowed me to curl up in his arms and wish the world away two years ago, who is so kind and sensitive about my feelings regarding Mom, this man had his Dad pass on the very same day one year after my Mudder did? Pass another beer, please.
Anyhow, after the game we ran over to the Hard Rock so Canadianboy could grab his souvenir. We were going to ride the incline, but someone is afraid of heights (I am not naming which one of you, but you know who you are!) so we decided to save that for the next visit. Since we all had to be up early, and since Wubbie’s babysitter had a curfew, we parted ways for the night. But not before making them listen to the drunk dialing messages that I have received from them over the last month. Wish I could get that shit on the internet for you guys…funny stuff.
I am leaving on a jet plane in the morning. Will be in Atlantic City for a few days. Should get a story or two outta this adventure. Wish my liver luck.
Oh wait! Before I go, I should hold true to my word yesterday about posting about my boobs. I took this at the ball game. Don’t worry, you will get better for Half Nekkid Thursday. Until then, deal with it.
An amazing friend and her awesome husband spent years trying to gain custody of his son. Unfortunately the courts saw him as some sort of villain man while seeing the mother of his son as some sort of natural caregiver simply because she has a vagina. The woman is/was not terribly nurturing, not terribly concerned about the son’s education, not terribly concerned about the serious ramifications that his diabetes held…just all around not the best parent to have primary custody of this intelligent boy. As the boy grew older more and more court hearings occurred, but always the child was given back to the mother, simply because she was a woman. Finally, FINALLY!!!, such travesties happened that the courts were able to see the stable home my friends provided were the best thing for the then 14 year old.
What a difference less than two years makes! Living with them is such a blessing (even if he hates to do chores). I just love this kid now. He is coming out of his shell, joking and laughing. His school work is forced to be a priority, his diabetes is kept in check, he is learning responsibilities, his participation in school plays/musicals is encouraged. It is truly a pleasure to watch him blossom into a young man.
When I was told that he wanted to include me in on his birthday party, I was honored. I mean, we are talking a 16th birthday party…that is big stuff in my book. Nothing could have kept me from this party. I skipped the Pitt blue / gold scrimmage game plus the meet and greet today. Bowling it was.
But I haven’t been bowling in ages. Years ago these friends convinced me to join a bowling league with them. It wasn’t pretty. I am so not a bowler, but there was plenty of beer and tequila at the alley so I figuered what the hell. When my teammates asked what we should call the team, my reply was that they shouldn’t ask me because “I’m just here for the beer.” Naturally they kept “just here for the beer” for our team name and that pretty much summed up my bowling carrer.
However, when I joined that league, I did run out and buy a ton of crap to at least look like I knew what the fuck I was doing. Ball, bag, shoes, little cover thingies for the shoes when you walk away from the clean lanes, towel to wipe the ball, wrist guard, little powder filled bag thingy…the works. Of course this stuff has been sitting forever and a half, but now the 16th birthday is a reason to dig out the ball and head to the lanes again. Wahoooo!
Here is a photo of my fabu bowling ball. Note the engraved “HAHA” on the ball. (My Pinky and the Brain issues go WAY back. Narf!)
You will note that my bowling ball is a lovely dark green. Father of birthday boy is incredibly secure in his masculinity and had no trouble bowling with a very, very pink ball. This is the man who gives himself manicures after changing the oil in his truck and bowls with a pink ball:
How could his wife not love that? (Although I do have a photo of him that he has agreed to allow me to post for a future HNT. I think you will see *ahem* another side to him. Wheeee!)
In my typical style, not a style I like about me, I arrived a half an hour late. They had started without me, as they should have, and everyone took turns bowling when it was my turn. By the time I threw my first ball it was the 9th frame. I threw a 5, then a gutter ball. Ugggggggggh. Come the 10th I threw a 4. Four frikken pins. The another gutter ball. Dammit.
Second game I started with a spare and continued with spares & strikes until the bastards killed our game due to incoming leagues. Booooooo! That game might very well have been a personal best and we were rudely interrupted. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Only saving grace was that meant it was time for cake.
Eventually it came time to open presents. Yay! Only the best part of any birthday party. Here he is reading the card I gave him that has a beagle on his back on top of his dog house looking at the starts and says, “May cosmic bliss come down and scratch you on the belly.” (My favorite card that I love so much that I bought like 20 of them. He was a worthy recipient.)
Because I am terrible with gifts I just gave him a crisp fifty dollar bill. He seemed pretty happy. Although he did score a pretty fucking cool hoodie covered in skulls that I tried to kidnap.
Afterwards we had lots of time to kill while waiting for the kids’ parents to show up to schlep them home. Sometimes I forget what it is like to be a teenager. Those kids are fun! Although the writing on each other with a Sharpie pen probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. Birthday boy’s self inflicted nipple tattoos seemed to be the high point for him…
(Small aside here. The writing on his chest says “right” and “left” under each nipple, but the words are not written for him, they are written for the viewer so that “left” is on his right. We went round and round on that one. I say “left” should have been on his left, not the way I view left. Kids! They have to do things their way! Oh how I love the independence of youth.)
One of the kids in our group was wearing a camo shirt that said, “Ha! Now you can’t see me.” I want that t-shirt in the worst way.
Eventually I popped the back of my vehicle and blasted some music. The kids all climbed in and pretended they were dogs. Here is the birthday boy, who was naturally the first one in.
I think the best part of the day might have been the ride back to their house. Birthday boy wanted to ride with me…in the back of the SUV. I sure as shit didn’t care so we popped the glass window open and he waved to all the cars going by. When I was his age we did the same things so I got a kick out of it. Especially when I blasted Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin and we both sang at the top of our lungs.
Great day.
Happy, happy 16th birthday, DW. You are loved.
EDIT TO ADD: Oh my fuck! How outta shape to I gotta be to have my left ass cheek hurt from bowling? WTF??!?!??! Seriously, I just got up to let the dogs out to pee and I shit you not, it feels as though someone punched me in the ass. Man, I gotta get into shape.
While in Kentucky there were many, and I do mean many, bizarre drunken conversations. During one late night booze influenced conversation I was trying to explain to my NOT SO little cousin and our awesome aunt why blogging has been so therapeutic for me. I tried to explain how it truly is possible to call you fantastic folks my friends. Took a few conversations and having NOT SO little cousin Twinkle Twat take nekkid photos of me while awesome aunt Tinkle Twat directed, but I think they are seeing how much you all mean to me.
So when Twinkle Twat decided that her dragon tattoo needed a name, it was a rather easy to convince her that we should take this to the internet. Monday when she had time she took a few photos that do not do this magnificent work of art justice, but they should do for the purpose of this contest.
The winner gets nothing really. Well, they will get the satisfaction of knowing that a gorgeous almost 27 year old is walking around referring to her dragon by the name you suggested. Winner is picked solely by Twinkle Twat. Because she sure as fuck is not the type of woman who lets me tell her what to do, not even if this is my site.
So, without further ado, here are the photos of her gorgeous dragon:
Photos would have been better if done on a real digital camera, but this is what the cellica phone gave us to work with. You can still sorta make out how awesome he is. Even though she gave birth two years ago he held his shape incredibly well. I love how his tail snakes down her leg almost as much as I love him gripping on to her front and back. Most of all I love his face. He looks like a kind and wise dragon, doesn’t he? Ok, I will shut it and let you get to naming. (My submission is George.)
EDIT TO ADD: Re seems to have settled on Grimford. Kiyo is still my favorite, but I was unable to get good ole Twinkle Twat to budge. So, Grimford it is!
(Jerry, in Reno you can use your tongue to help get the chocolate pudding from my heaving breasts after the wrestling match…congrats on winning the contest!)
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