The Cowboy

A successful rancher died and left everything to his
devoted wife. She was a very good-looking woman and
determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about
ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for
a ranch hand.

Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the
other a drunk.

She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else
applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would
be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every
day and knew a lot about ranching.

For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was
doing very well.

Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired
hand, 'You have done a really good job, and the ranch
looks great. You should go into town and kick up your
heels.'

The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one
Saturday night.

One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return.
Two o'clock and no hired hand. Finally he returned
around two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he found the
rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of
wine, waiting for him.

She quietly called him over to her.

'Unbutton my blouse and take it off,' she said.

Trembling, he did as she directed.

'Now take off my boots.'

He did as she asked, ever so slowly.

'Now take off my socks.'

He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her
boots.

'Now take off my skirt.'

He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in
the fire light.

'Now take off my bra.'

Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and
dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said, 'If you ever wear my
clothes into town again, you're fired.'


(Yeah, I didn't see it coming, either.)

Gateway to Betty Ford

Maybe I'm growing. I just don't know. Maybe my laptop really is a lush. I just don't know. Not too long ago, I was drinking a cup of coffee. It was a Friday morning. I was sitting with my laptop on the arm of the chair, my cat on my lap, and reached for my coffee. My laptop reached right out and took a huge sip. I was appalled. My laptop has snagged a sip of my water before. Then the horror! The sheer horror. Friday. It was 5 a.m. My laptop clearly had a problem, but I hadn't recognized it in time. One split second, and down the hatch. That double shot of Goldschlagger was more than my little laptop could handle. That Gateway was down for the count. 10. . . no vital signs. . . 9 . . . no pulse . . . 8 . . . now the keys are sticking. . . 7 . . . oh no! . . . 6 . . . the internal sound continues to beep. . . 5 . . . We've declared a winner!

And the Gateway stopped in to see Betty Ford. Please people, don't let your laptops have access to alcohol. Well, my Gateway checked itself out of the clinic and is on it's way to the gutter. I tried to help it. Jess tried to help it. Now, all that is left is a shell of the old laptop. My little laptop served me well. Good luck. G-d's speed. And I'll miss you.

Little Pink Ruger

Today I feel like Kalishnikitty!

I do have Kalishnikitty in a window sticker for Carmyne (my car) though I have not placed the sticker in the window yet. HK with an AK is AWESOME!

Some days I feel like her (minus the well endowment of course). I feel like the lady in red from the Matrix though I'm usually well armed.

Let me introduce you to the newest member of my family. Little pLinkY.

I added a Bushnell 3-9x32mm scope to pLinkY to make her look more "real". Now she is perfect! I bought her on Saturday just after the gun show at GRB. I had her on hold at Collector's. I was beside myself awaiting the chance to bring her home. Stripped her down for a good first cleaning, reassembled with scope. And now I'm ready to head to the range.

For those not familiar with rifles, pLinkY is a Ruger 10/22.

I decided on that rifle based off of recommendations by a really cool coworker of mine that I trust his opinion a lot. Thanks a million D for the suggestion. When I picked up this little ruger, I knew I would also need to get a rifle bag. I got a simple one from Academy that is 1/2 pink and 1/2 woodland camo. It's great. While searching for a picture of it to upload here to the blog, I found the following rifle bag. And now I have a new item on my wishlist...

How totally cute is this rifle case?
And the final item added to my wishlist today is this 'cute' pink rifle. LOL! So many pink guns, so little cash flow, oh I mean time!

The Trio

The Trio has seemingly perfected the "You're an Idiot" condescending presentation of every word uttered from their mouths. In their minds, they are superior, everyone else inferior, and we should all be bowing to kiss their feet and beg for their divine guidance.

This was inspired by the nauseating phone call I got to listen to this morning at 6 am involving Toe Jam and some poor soul she was berating.

Oddly enough, it just dawned on me that one of the other 1-uppers from my past was nicknamed Toe Meat. Ugh! That's a really disgusting story behind the invention of that nickname. That was the 1-upper that didn't know when some information was too much information. She shared with us that she had some problem with her toes where she had to have some of the meat removed from them. YUCK! Hence the name Toe Meat. I think it's rather fitting.

Interesting side note: My Wardrobe Malfunction

Along with the absolutely annoying design of my suit with its Fauckets, I have also become plagued with a problem that occurs in the ladies room. See, when I sit down, some how the heel of my high heel shoe keeps getting entangled in the hem of my pants. When I stand + pull up pants, I am now stuck in my pants. If I start to lose my balance because I've just whisked the shoes out from under me caught in the pants, and go to take a step to regain my balance, I then yank the pants back down (potentially crashing to the floor). If I haven't regained my balance, I could knock myself out cold in these stalls made of metal. Now that would be embarrasing.

I haven't figured out a fix for this wardrobe malfunction and I have more than one set of pants that causes this problem.

I Really Do Hate Fauckets

Did your head just cock to the side as you read that? Well, let me explain a Faucket to you. You see, everyone at some time in there life had been plagued by some really bad decision that was made probably centuries ago. I wear a ladies business suit to work every day. A high percentage of ladies suits lack pants pockets. That's not necessarily a problem as the jacket usually has pockets in it. However, *dun dun dun duuuuuun* my Faucket is actually in place of the real pocket. It looks like I have a pocket, when in fact I really have a useless external flap of material. *mind starts to wander* . . . back to my Faucket. I have had Fauckets in some of my slacks, usually on the backside. And then I've come to realize that they were actually sewn shut full blown pockets. I have ripped that stitching right out of there and then been on my way smiling with a real pocket.

Today I am plagued with no pockets in the pants, and 2 Fauckets in the jacket. And no additional stitching present to reveal that in fact it is a sewn shut pocket. ARGH! So to everyone and their Fauckets, I feel for you.

Today's Secret Word Is

I decided a couple weeks back to entertain myself Pee Wee Herman style and determine a daily secret word. This word is usually derived from some absolutely horrific topic being discussed by the social retards around me.

For your amusement, you can join in with me today. So Conky, what's today's secret word?

"Today's secret word is MRI."

Remember boys and girls, anytime you hear today's secret word you must SCREAM real loud!!!

Yup, you guessed it. Jar Jar Binks has a regularly scheduled MRI at the local loon farm. Of which, she hadn't made it 10 walker paces inside the door before blurting it out so that "everyone will know where she is if they are looking for her." HA!!! No one ever looks for you while you're gone. We all actually celebrate.