Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain.

In the Wild

Guess what? I didn't get eaten by a bear! I didn't even have one nibble on my baby toe or anything. In fact, the only wildlife we saw was some fish, deer and an armadillo. But, the strangest wildlife was the born again person. In fact, we saw 2 of them. I decided not to snag one, because one of the Jesus people had a gun strapped to his back. I guess that's the new look in Christian couture.

Did I mention our camping trip was in bumfuck Oklahoma? It was like being in the deep south. The very deep south. It's a good thing I'm already in therapy.

Oklahoma Church Sign O' the Week

"Somebody call 911, 'cause this church is on fire."

Oh my, Oklahoma church sign guy sure is a saucy little number, isn't he? He'd have to be to use a pick-up line on a church sign. How 'bout next week you use, "We may not be the Flintstones, but we can make your Bedrock." or "Come in and see our hard drive. We promise it's not 3.5 inches and it's not anywhere near floppy."

I think Oklahoma church sign guy just needs to get laid and get it over with.

Damn Someone to Hell

What better thing to do on a Sunday? I mean churches across the world are doing it today, why not we heathens? So, if you're really pissed off and feel the need to vent you can damn someone to hell by going here. And if you're bored you can scroll through and peruse the damned list. Some of them are funny, some are stupid, some are sad. I think the best was I saw was: Andrew - damned for being a poohead.

Take Care,
Babs - who should be damned for her blogging habits lately.

I'm a-goin' fishin'

Today is my 100th post. Woofuckinhoo, huh? In honor of my 100th post, I'm going to do a little dance, make a little love and get down tonight. Get down tonight.

Actually, we're gearing up to go on a fishing/camping trip. I get to sleep in a tent and get bitten by bugs all night. I might even get eaten by a bear. Which would be a really sucky way to die. But even scarier than bears and bugs, Thomas told me that the place we're going is known to be inhabited by some scary fundamentalist, born again people.

The horror! The horror! Run for your lives!

I wonder if I'll be able to snag one with my fishing pole. Then I could have it mounted on a piece of wood and hang it over the fireplace.

I kid. Seriously. A born again mount just wouldn't go with my decor. Besides, I've heard that having a Christian hung over your fireplace is just so last year.

If I survive this trip, I'll write all about the thrilling adventure I'm sure it will be.

Take Care,
Babs

Wood Eye Wood Eye, Peg Leg Peg Leg

That Jesus Sho' Gets Around

Roberto Colon (I'm sure it's pronounced "cologne") has a footstool. It's a magic footstool. Kinda like a magic carpet, but you can't fly on it. And it's not a carpet. It's a footstool. But, it has Jesus on it!!! That's why it's so magical.

At least Roberto can see Jesus on his footstool.

I see Chewbacca, myself, but whatever blows your skirt up, Robbie.

What I can't figure out is why J-Dawg would want to show up on something that people prop they're stinky feet on? I guess JC must like the smell of toe cheese or something.

Roberto states that he's probably going to keep the footstool, although he might put it up for sale on eBay. He seems to think he can get anywhere from $100,000 - $500,000 for his footstool.

Well, good luck with that, Mister Delusional.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

Gregory Daniels of Pomono, CA decided the other day that he should steal an entire ATM. Brilliant plan, Mr. Daniels. So, Gregory and an unknown accomplice wrapped a chain around the ATM, hooked the chain to a pickup truck and ripped up the ATM. They then tossed the machine into the back of the truck and sped off with visions of riches beyond their wildest imaginations. And they were probably laughing maniacally. Or maybe singing "We're in the Money" or something like that.

But luck, that fickle little beehotch, had decided to thumb her nose at the fearless duo that day. Police immediately began pursuing the pair, and then Wonderboy Greg turned into a dead end street. Not smart, Greg. Not. Smart. The unknown accomplice was able to run away from the police and he may be running still. He's probably in Oregon by now. Greg, however, wasn't so fortunate. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He was trying desperately to run away from the police. Struggling. Panting. Cursing. Ruing the day. But you see he couldn't run away, because his prosthetic leg had fallen off.

I guess it's just not easy to hop away from the police, so Greg was caught.

And to add insult to injury, now when Greg has his day in court he won't have a leg to stand on.

Take Care,
Babs - Who loves bad puns with just a hint of tacky.

Well, let's play catch up shall we?

This is going to be one messy post. Just try and follow along the best you can. There is absolutely no fluidity to it at all. I just thought I should warn you.

The Office

Let's see, what happened last week that stopped me from blogging? Oh yeah, I had to work. And I had to use my brain. I've figured out that since hiring someone to help me in the office, it just means I have to use my brain more. I've given her all of the "trained monkey" stuff to do (not that she's a trained monkey, she's not even monkey-like) and this leaves me to do all the work that makes me actually use my brain. I'm having to THINK at work, people. What the fuck is up with that? It seems that I'm only allotted so many synapse firings per day and I've been having to use all of them at the office. So by the time I get home the most I can do is sit in a chair and slobber. Not very attractive, but I'm not the one who hands out the brain allotments, either. If you want to blame someone, blame THAT guy. Whoever he may be.

I hate you brain allotment guy.

What else happened at the office last week? Well, I had one of our vendors explain to me why I was so crabby. It seems that I'm crabby not because of being overloaded with work, but because I don't have the love of Jesus in my heart. Really vendor man? Is that how it works? Will that make everything sunshine and lollipops and cause me to have a looping soundtrack in my head of the Partridge Family singing C'mon Get Happy? Cause if so, I don't want it. I like being crabby. It suits me. So fuck off already.

Well, that's what I wanted to tell him. Instead I informed him that I didn't discuss religion. In fact, I had to inform him of this three times before he finally figured out that maybe I didn't want to talk about it.

Thomas thought I should have told him that even if I had the love of Jesus shoved up my ass, I still wouldn't be happy.

I'm not sure if Thomas was just giving me a comeback to the Jesus vendor or if he just thinks there's absolutely no hope for me being non-crabby.

Crazy Christians

The lovely Sharna sent me not one but two emails about crazy people. The first was about Fred Phelps and how he hates Sweden now. I think Freddy is a maggot-infested turdball. And he has major cooties. I also think he and Rush Limbaugh should be housed together somewhere in western Kansas. In a shack. Without heat. Or electricity. Or running water. Or food. And there should be rabid wolves somewhere in there, too.

She also sent this one which is about a guy who made a sculpture of Barack Obama and has him sporting "Saviour attire". In case you haven't heard, Savior attire is the latest rage. The artist was trying to get the point across that he felt that people looked at Barack as some kind of political saviour. But of course some of those crazy Christians got all goofy about it because they felt it was sacrilegious. I'm not going to voice my opinion on whether or not I think Barak is our political saviour or not, but I do think he's pretty.

Exploring

Last Sunday Thomas, his daughter and I went and explored a local spring. Tatum Spring. It's an old farm? I say it's an old farm, Thomas thinks there was more to it - he thinks it was some type of business. This place has rock work everywhere. Rock walls, steps and paths. There's also a barn, an outhouse and a spring house. You can even get water there- there's a pipe that hangs out over the road. You can back your truck up to it (should you own one) open the gate valve on the spring, and fill your water tank. Or just stand under it and take a shower. The most important thing is that I want the spring house for a potting shed. I just have to figure out a way to steal it.

You can see some pictures of this place here.

Eggs

Finally - yes, I'm finally going to shut up- I decided this year that it would be fun to dye Easter eggs using natural dyes rather than store bought. I mean, doesn't it make more sense to spend twenty-five bucks on natural stuff rather than plunk down 2 dollars for the PAAS kit?

So, I used grape juice, cranberry juice, blueberries, coffee, turmeric, but the best was the parsley, spinach and grass mix. Boiling these three together makes for an interesting aroma.

Anyway, the dyes worked and I think I like them better than the other stuff.

I promise I will try to be more regular with my posts. Even if they're just a bunch of random words strung together that make less sense than a Bush speech.

Take Care,

Babs

AAGGGHHHHHH

Life is crazy sometimes.

This week is one of those times.

I'll be back soon.

You've been warned.

Bwahahahaha.

Fools for Christ

April 1st

I loathe April Fool's Day. No make that Loathe with a capital L. What the fuck, make it all caps. LOATHE. I LOATHE April Fool's Day.

I detest the whole concept of "tricking" someone. And every time someone does it to me and then I hear "April Fool's", I just want to poke the person in the eye. Twice. And have you noticed that the "trickster" never says "April Fool's" in any kind of normal voice? It's always in a sing-song voice and they always make "fools" have 2 syllables. "April Foo-ols"

Okay, I'm through with that now. Just so you know, if you are one that adores April Fool's Day, I'm fine with that. Just please don't get any on me.

Aliens Don't Like the Jesus

There's a little research group down in Cocoa, Florida. Oh looky! More cocoa. Maybe that should be my tagline. "Flumadiddle - More cocoa than ever." or "Flumadiddle - More cocoalicious by the minute."

Where was I? Oh yeah, the research group. They call themselves CE4 and they research UFOs. And they're Christians. Sweet cheese on a cracker! Can it get any better than that?

Why, yes. Yes it can.

The boys at CE4 have a way you can stop an alien abduction. How fuckin' handy is that? Let's say you're in your house, minding your own business and all of a sudden you find aliens in your living room and they're using their mind power to transport you into their space ship. And let's say that you have a 2:00 appointment and it's now 1:30 and you don't have time for such nonsense. Well, the CE4 trio state that all you have to do is call on the name of Jesus and those pesky aliens will drop you faster than an evangelical church drops their gay pastor. It's that easy!

CE4 doesn't explain why this works, though. I want to know the story behind the aliens and Jesus. JC obviously kicked some serious alien ass at some time or another and now the whole flock of aliens are scared of him. Are aliens a flock or are they a gaggle? I always confuse the two.

You can also read fascinating quotes like this on their website: "My findings confirm what I suspected a decade ago: a spiritual war is taking place on Earth. Alien expriencers and covert human experimentation operatives (CHEOPs) experiencers are right in the line of fire."

I have no idea what the heck that's supposed to mean, but it sounds super groovy to me. I wonder what kind of credentials you need to be a CHEOP, because I think it could be my next career move.

Finally, if you check out the CE4 scrapbook, you can find this caption on one of their photos: "Joe, Jim Wilhelmson and Guy at Roswell Crash Site blowing the shofar."

You can imagine my disappointment when I learned that a shofar is a trumpet made from a ram's horn.

Take Care,

The Bablatrice - Who is going to start practicing calling on Jesus' name. Just in case. But is only going to practice while at the grocery store.