I'm it.

Well, I guess it's time for me to get on with my tagging from The Exterminator. Here are the rules of the tag:

• We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
• Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
• People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
• At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
• Don't forget to leave them each a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

So...here we go.

1. I can still name all my being verbs that I learned at some point in my schooling: am is are was were be being been have has had do does did shall will should would may might must can could. I can also name all 50 states in alphabetical order. Of course, if I write them out now you would think I just copied it from a list, and I could make a video of it but you'd think I was just reading them. I guess I could make a video of me saying them with my eyes closed, but that would take too much energy. So, you'll just have to take my word for it. So far, this extraordinary talent hasn't really gotten me anything, but I'm sure when I least expect it, knowing the 50 states in alphabetical order will probably save my life or something.

2. I was suspended for three days in the 5th grade for cussing. I know it's pretty fucking hard to believe, isn't it? I also detested my 5th grade teacher. His name was Mr. Bradley and he had what had to be the worst comb over ever. In fact, it wasn't even a comb over - it was a comb swirl. His remaning hair was very long and he would swirl it over the top of his bald spot. SWIRL it, people. Who the hell did he think he was kidding?

3. I am severely claustrophobic. It's so bad that it gives me the heebie jeebies just to listen to someone talk about crawling through a small space. I don't want to be anywhere that I can't at least sit up and turn around. And being tied up during sex? Hell no. Not that I'm adverse to a little kink, but I don't think having to call an ambulance because I'm hysterical really makes for a good romp in the sack.

4. I like saying heebie jeebies. I also like saying: polliwog, tiddlywinks, Beelzebub, serendipity, curmudgeon, trollop, lollygag, smarmy, cockamamie, shenanigans, poopy, babushka, zamboni, peacock, pantaloons, bamboozle, poppycock and f-u-c-k. Holy phalluses, Batman. That's three words with "cock" in them. Freudian? So I guess I should throw in cock-a-doodle-doo, as well. How about ballcock. Now there's a fun word.

5. I play the piano and compose music. One day, I'm going to make a CD of it, and then force it upon people and pretend like they're going to listen to it. I'm not planning on making anyone pay money for the CD. See, the thing is, even though I am a black-hearted woman, when I compose music I feel like I'm putting part of myself into it, and I want to share that part of me with other people. It's the quieter part of me. The part that is soft. Not caustic. Not cynical. Just the me that stays inside most of the time.

7. I abhor clowns. They seriously freak me the fuck out. There's just something about the makeup. Like they're trying to hide something. It's probably why I don't like masks, either. Maybe I just want people to be themselves and not hide behind anything.

8. My first kiss was when I was in Kindergarten and was from Todd Allen. We were inside the concrete whale at Swope Park Zoo and he kissed me on the cheek. And he slobbered. On my cheek. In a whale.

Well, now that, that's over with here's my tag list:

Fwig the Magnificent
Freak Magnet Dave
Carla
Sharna
Diana
Kathleen
Claudia
Don

Take Care,
Babs

I'm a Mover and a Shaker

The Big M-O-V-E

For all of you who are wondering about the move. 1. Yes, I am all by myself (and, yes, I sang that part out loud) and 2. I am doing great all by myself (once again - singing it). 3. If you want more details, I'll be more than happy to give them to you in an email, I just don't want to post them for everyone and their dog (should they have a literate dog) to read.

Tag You're It

I've been tagged by The Exterminator and that post will have to wait until I'm less brain dead. Which should be about the year 2013. Actually I might be able to get to it tomorrow while I'm here between 12pm and 5pm waiting on the Dish Network dude/chick. The thing that annoys me about having to sit here for 5 hours waiting for the Dish Network dude/chick is that there is a Dish Network dude/chick that lives in this complex and is always parked 2 cars away from me.

Apartment Life

Well, I'm not sure this is going to be the most thrilling place to live. It's actually pretty quiet. Um...there's a creek that runs beside the parking lot and if I was 10 I would so be in it playing. There's also a pool that has enough chlorine to whiten your dingiest whites. So far, it's been pretty uneventful. Not that I need excitement, but I mean a streaker or something would be nice. Thankfully, the woman below me who had the two yapping, whining dogs has moved on to bigger and better things and I wish her and her little demon puppies all the best. So I guess now all I have to do is wait for the Johnny Depp look-alike to move in. Fwig the Magnificent has neighbors that are totally more interesting than mine. And as soon as I get everything in its place and decorated, I'll post some pics of my new digs.

Life at the Office

I'm still working 12 hour days, but I got a raise. YAY! But, it has a stipulation. The owner told me that I didn't get my raise unless I went on vacation.

Now, I know that's a pretty good stipulation, but I don't know if I can take more than 1 or 2 days off at a time. I know that when I get back, I'll have a stack of work to catch up on. On the other hand, I know that if I don't take a vacation soon, I will seriously start beating people with my hole punch AND giving them paper cuts with post-it notes. Hot pink post-it notes, at that.

Now I just have to decide if I want to go somewhere for my vacation, or if I want to be a tourist in my newish hometown.

And now I'm just rambling, so I'll shut the heck up.

Take Care,
Babs - who just realized she completed and entire post without using the word f-u-c-k. I wonder if that will downgrade me to an R rating.

No One 17 and Under Admitted.

I'm a Bad, Bad Little Blogger Girl

I received an email from The Exterminator about a blog rating system that is on the website Mingle². Here's what my blog received:



This rating was determined by the fact that I'd used the following words in my blog:

Hell (6x) Steal (4x) Dead (3x) and Pissed (1x).

Um, Mingle² people? I think you might have missed a few words. Now, I realize that many people get offended when you use the word steal, but I use the word fuck way the fuck more than I do steal. How come f-u-c-k was omitted from your word list? Doesn't fuck beat out steal in the offensive category? I mean, one of the 10 Commandments even has the word steal in it, but have you ever seen a commandment that states, "Thou shalt not fuck."?

I didn't think so.

Okay, I have to veer off course for a minute and let you guys know that I just opened a package of pre-cut watermelon. And even though I'm always a little leery of pre-cut fruit, I have to say this is some of the best watermelon I've ever eaten. And now I've just noticed that instead of a normal expiration date, they've cleverly put Best if Enjoyed by 6/26/06. Well, I did enjoy it with 3 days to spare. In fact, I enjoyed the f-u-c-k out of it.

Anyway, back to the Mingle squared deal. I've also learned recently that I use the word penis or one of its various euphemisms a lot, and I'm severely disappointed that Mr. Bojangle and the Boys missed the list.

So, person at Mingle² who came up with the rating system, as proud as I am of my NC-17 status - you might want to rethink your rating system. Or I'll have to steal something dead and then you'll sure as hell be pissed.

No Longer Living in Bumfuck

Well, I've moved to the city. I am no longer in the middle of nowhere. Now I am smack dab in the middle of somewhere. In an apartment no less. Where there are actually other people. And I can be at the store in mere minutes. OH MY GOD. I am finally back in civilization. Now, for those of you who can't fathom why someone would want to live around other people...well, I can't help it. I was born and raised in the city and it's just in my blood.

And just think...I'll have all kinds of apartment living stories now.

Take Care,
Babs

Kick That Baptist Demon in the Jimmy

Um.....Oops?

Annapolis police made a wee bit of an error when conducting a raid. They burst through the front door of Silvia Bernal and her unnamed husband. He probably really does have a name, but the article didn't give it, so we're going to call him Harold. Anyway the police broke through the door, set off a couple of flash-bang grenades, kicked Harold right in the cockinballs then wrestled the pair to the ground and handcuffed them. They kicked Harold in the nuts! Do police officers go through groin-kicking training?

So, after KICKING HAROLD IN THE NUTS, the police realized that they'd raided the wrong apartment.

But the police spokesman stated that the incident was regrettable so I'm sure that made Silvia, Harold and Harold's scrotum feel all better.

And That's When the Town Went to Hell

Watch out, San Antonio! Your fair city will soon see a ginormous boost in alcohol sales, and all you San Antonio hookers better be ready for a little overtime. Why? Because the Southern Baptist Convention is holding their annual national meeting right there in your city next week.

Those Southern Baptists are going to be arguing over things like whether it's okay to speak in tongues or not.

Important shit, people.

Just imagine a city overrun by Baptists. It would truly be my version of hell.

Do you think hookers get time and a half for overtime?

She's Just a Devil Woman

Call me forward, but I gotta know. Have any of you ever had sex with a demon? I know I have. They're some kinky little fuckers. But now I've found the woman who can make those sex demons disappear. Her name is Erica Shepherd and she claims she can wash that incubus or succubus right outta your hair.

I'll bet you're wondering how exactly one picks up a sex demon, aren't you? Well, don't try any of the usual pick-up lines. They don't work. Instead, sleep in a hotel room without praying over it first. Or dabble in witchcraft. Try your hand at astral projection. Visit a foreign country. Or, just go to sleep. Try these things and you'll have sex demons riding you like a crack whore on dollar night.

Just remember when you're through with your dalliance with demons, call Erica and she'll have those sexual fiends gone lickety-split.

Take Care,
Babs

Pirate Spiders Kidnap Jesus

My Butt Be Tasty

Don't tell anyone, but Friday I left the office at 4:30 in the afternoon. And the world didn't come to an end. I left partly from sheer exhaustion - I had gotten to the point where I just really didn't give a fuck anymore - and partly because I was nursing a spider bite on my ass. Yep. I had to go to the doctor and flash my behind to what seemed like the entire staff all because some stupid spider thought that would be a good place to bite me. In fact, it's the second time in the past 6 months or so that I've had to go to the doctor for a spider bite - ON MY ASS. I don't know what kind of spider keeps doing this to me, but I think it must be the relatives of one I've killed. They've formed a spider mafia and now they're trying to ice me. The good news is I'm now on antibiotics and steroids. The bad news is the steroids won't let me sleep. So I'm trying to function on 4 hours sleep, and I'm just too damn old for that.

Arrgh, I'd Like to See His Mainmast

Speaking of pirates - which we really weren't, but I was in my head- I definitely recommend seeing Pirates of the Caribbean III. If nothing else for the scenes where there are multiple Johnny Depps. It was like my own little private fantasy had come to life right there on the screen. Except the multiple Johnnys had clothes on, and I wasn't smack dab in the middle of a Johnny manwich. And the jugglers and dancing squirrels wearing spandex pants and torn-off-the-shoulder-Flashdance-flashback sweatshirts were missing, but other than that - it was exactly like my fantasy.

Jesus is MIA

All has been quiet on the Jesus sighting front lately. Maybe the Big J doesn't like the warmer weather? Do you think he's been kidnapped and that's what stopping him from showing up on various random objects? I wonder what the ransom note for Jesus would be like. I mean, the kidnappers could threaten to kill him if you didn't drop off one million dollars in small unmarked bills in a brown paper bag, but c'mon kidnappers. He's JESUS for chrissake. He could just bring himself back to life. No. The more I think about it, the more kidnapping Jesus just doesn't make sense.

Not that I've spent a great deal of time thinking about kidnapping Jesus.

See what happens when I don't get enough sleep. It's not pretty, is it?

Take Care,
Bablatoots