Observations by Key Monroe~~Home of Right Opinions, Cynical Viewpoints, and TMI in Hefty Doses
|E-mail: keymonroe [at] alltel [dot] net

November 30, 2004

What Smells Like Old Lady?


That is only the question that my husband has asked me 15 times today.

"Do you have on a different cologne?" he demanded.

"No," I answer, "No cologne, no lotions, but I did bathe this morning."

He picked up the Victoria Secret catalogue that I was thumbing through, and gave it a good whiff, as to find to find the source of the offending aroma.

"Look, if you want to borrow my catalogue, just say so." (Of course I smirked when I said that.)

"No, not this," he said putting it down, only after indulging in a few ooohs and aaaahs over the sequin laden lingerie.

"Smell my hair."


"Smell my hair," I instructed, "I used a different shampoo and conditioner this morning." (...which is almost always the case, as I have a few dozen in the shower.)

He obliged. "OHHH YEAH! That's it? What is that, it's awful!"

He has since given my desk - yes, we work together - a wide berth every time he's cut across the office.

So, what did I use? Dove shampoo. Dove conditioner. Didn't even mix and match today!

I think I look and smell radiant, personally. But there you have it, one man's cosmetic critique of the day.

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Yet Another Rant

Because I'm STILL in the mood for effective bitching.

This one patiently describes the DIFFERENCE between legal and ILLEGAL immigration.

(Plucked out of the Evil archives.)

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posted by Key on 03:38 PM | Comments (0)

November 29, 2004

Still Rant Hunting

This time I have found an ACLU rant.

Very nice.

Two points, which can IN NO WAY be tied together.

One is disclosure. You see, my cousin is a college asst. professor. She is also the faculty director of the Gay/Straight alliance on her college campus. She is also a Republican.

She is an absolute freak (multitude of stories there), and I love her. And I like the message that she is trying to send which is, Helloooo, you CAN be gay AND a Republican! You realize that, right?

Having made that acknowledgement, for my second point, I must now highlight a paragraph out of Pam's rant which I just adore:

I’m so sick of homosexuals defining themselves by the fact that they have sex with people of their own gender, and proclaim it constantly, like we’re interested. Are they not mothers and fathers and CEOs and waitresses and Jewish and Catholic and shoppers and bloggers…? Being homosexual can’t possibly be the only thing by which they define themselves - so why does it feel like it to ME?

I've wondered that, and I know not "all" are so outspoken, but those who are certainly do not mind speaking their piece and then some, and admittedly, there are those within any group I suppose.

My cousin would likely fall on the side of the Gay/Straight Alliance, and although I get that, I'm also feelin' Pam on this. Really, shouldn't there be a limit as to how much "crap" can be forced into our heads in college? I didn't have the option for Creation based Geology 101. I had to regurgitate what I was told to regurgitate, however many billion years it was at the time. So I get what Pam is saying regarding the force feeding. It's cool as long as it ain't Christian.

Main point? Another double standard. I just HATE those.

(What, that's surprising? This is the ACLU. I know that....still pisses me off.)

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posted by Key on 10:19 PM | Comments (14)

November 27, 2004

I've Contemplated Teenacide

So, the family went to Macon Thursday. Macon is the home of my husband's extended family, and Thanksgiving Day is one of two obligatory dates per year that our attendance is mandated.

So, we show. And, as usual, we are pampered by my husband's gracious aunt with way too much food, riddled with doll collection tales and wedding flower fiascos by the gay uncle, and tortured by indoor tackles from my nephew who doesn't know when to stop playing football.

Those prowling were actually more numerous than that, but I wasn't terribly threatened, as susceptible prey were equally ample in supply.

Unfortunately, my nephew, being the eldest of his cousins, quickly ran out of people willing to be pounced.

So, there I sat in my sweater, jeans, and heels, on the sofa, legs crossed, remote in hand, trying to interest my nephew in something on this sans satellite television before me.

He punched me in the shoulder. "Come on, tackle me. Give me your best shot. Come on. Come on..."

I cut him a look, then attempted to lure his focus to the screen, "Look...football!"

"Whatever, that's a crap game," he informed me, as he attempted to nudge me out of a sitting position with his foot.

"Would you stop?" I faked irritation, at the same time wishing I had been more appropriately attired for the task...and that there were less witnesses in the room.

He poked his foot in the area of my backside - quite firmly, "Ha!" he chided, "I got you in the jelly roll!"

It was a blur after that.

I hit him hard. I don't know who was more surprised...him, me, or everyone else in the room.

I grabbed him in the mid-section, forced him into a headlock, and rolled him off of the sofa and onto the floor, where I then pinned arms behind his back, while securing the rest of his skinny ass with the weight of my knee.

He was helplessly pinned.

"Say it," I demanded.

Laughter. Red-faced. No-way-in-hell-I'm-sayin-it, laughter.

His father put down the crossword puzzle for the first time all day, "We don't want you to break anything - better say uncle, son."

He didn't say it. Know what he did?

HE LET ONE RIP. All over me. Stink. Nasty-ass RUN from the room, STINK.

Nice. And you guys would have us believe that we don't fight fair.


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posted by Key on 10:40 PM | Comments (8)
» The Brier Patch links with: Cuttin' The Cheese
» The LLama Butchers links with: Well, It Was Fun While It Lasted

November 24, 2004

You Mean I Get The Day Off?

Really and truly?

I don't know how I suckered my way in to such an enviable role, but somehow I have managed to escape the duties of not only hosting, but having to bring anything of any great import as well!

I am absolutely purring. An appreciative person I am. Thank you family. (I won't call any of you dysfunctional again for at least 48 hours!)

Now, clearly, I could very well end up repaying the debt by hosting Christmas, but we won't be ruining my happy moment by going there...

I'm going home to make dessert.

Happy Thanksgiving Blogworld!

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posted by Key on 04:42 PM | Comments (4)

November 23, 2004

Seeing is Believing?

So, if I saw a ghost, does that mean I have to believe in them?

I saw a special the other night on a mad-crazy, supa haunted house, much-much more haunted than the "typical" haunted house. This house had ghosts, demons, evil people-chasing mists, etc.

I've always watched these things with equal amounts of skepticism and foreboding, and that's only after I lost the battle for the remote.

People, why, but why would I want to believe in such things? I suppose I lack the masochistic recessive gene that allows its owner to achieve thrill through terror.

And yet, I'm in real estate.

Working at a well-connected real estate firm (as I did a few years ago) does have its perks. Like... when a foreclosure comes on the market, we kinda have first dibs.

It doesn't matter how spooky a house may look, the words "instant equity" can be absolutely blinding. So when I saw a ranch over a partial basement that was so grown over with vegetation that I could barely access the front door, I was elated.

There were holes in the walls, there were toilets and skylights in the yard, and it had been raining, sleeting, snowing, and all-purpose weathering into the middle of the Living Room. Perfect.

We spent over sixty grand. It took six months. I love this house. The inside is custom me. This was no longer spec, we had to move in.

But...we heard things about this house while we were fixing it up. Apparently, the man who lived here had left in a fit of rage because there was a warrant out for his arrest. By the time we acquired the house, he was in state prison. We don't know what the guy did, but there's plenty of speculation.

Suffice it to say that when we were ripping out cabinets and Polaroids splashed out onto the floor, I was afraid to turn them over. ...But I had to. Kids. All kids. Dressed kids, thank God. Kids playing.

As I said, we ended up moving in. I had worked too hard, put up with too many subs - who called me either "Legs" or "Hard-ass," typically the former unless we'd done any negotiating that day - and basically, I just loved what I'd done with the place, so here we are, here we stay.

Miss Priss was not thrilled. We had come from a rather large four bedroom two-story in Buford, and she had been spoiled. She had two rooms. One was a typical bedroom, and one was a playroom with toys and an indoor playset with a slide.

She only had one room now, and thus started the histrionics over the move. She couldn't sleep. She had bad dreams.

So, we made a dream-catcher together. Not that I believe or don't believe, but I believe in psychology, therefore I believed that if she believed, it might help.

There was just one episode that can't be explained away.

It was late for her, close to eleven, so she had been asleep for a couple of hours. In fact, we were getting ready for lights out over in the Master abode as well, when she came tearing into the room absolutely terrified.

"Mommy! Mommy! Someone was standing over my bed! They were shaking my bed! It was shaking! It was! There was somebody there!"

Well, I have to try to explain it away, right? Mommy can't freak. [Thou shalt not freak is in the rulebook just under Thou shalt not get sick, right?] So I intone, "Honey, it was just one of those dreams that seems really real. But daddy will check the doors and windows just in case."

Of course, she stayed with me that night, and amazingly, that was the end of it. No more dreams, no more bed-shaking.

I could have almost written the whole thing off, were it not for what I saw a few weeks later.

I got up in the middle of the night to do that annoying piddling thing that women do - use the restroom, take some aspirin, check the thermostat - and I'm, btw, incredibly talented in that I can do these things with minimal lighting.

Tasks accomplished, I made it back to bed. I wasn't yet fully reclined when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

I sat right back up and jerked my head toward the door of my room. And I saw her. As plain and obvious as I've ever seen anything in my life, I saw a little girl walk all the way across my bedroom from one end to the other.

She never looked at me. She looked straight ahead the whole time.

Of course, there are no words to describe my state of mind at that moment. No words. Sorry. Wait, I have one! Denial!

But see, denial is difficult to substantiate given the fact that I could describe the girl down to the last detail. (She looked about nine, had straight brown hair, was a bit pale...)

So, yes, my spooked ass was ready to consider moving the next day, but how to bring this up to the husband...

Well, I danced around it, and finally told him what happened and asked him if there was any way that he could believe it. (I braced myself for skeptical condescension.)

"Yeah, I saw one too," he said. Before I could flay him for his sarcasm, he continued, and given the nervous presentation, it became evident that he was quite sincere, "In the last house. I saw her often. A little girl. The last time I saw her, she bit me on my hand..."

My mouth fell open, as even after my sighting, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but he continued, "I even had bite marks the next day."

Two things came out of my mouth simultaneously, "WHY didn't you tell me??" and "...the LAST house?"

"The last house?"

Great. So much for moving.

We're still here. We don't bring it up anymore. I can't speak for the rest of them, but I haven't had a sighting in three years...

Show Comments »

posted by Key on 08:07 PM | Comments (10)
» Thunder And Roses links with: I wanna believe

Cleaning House

You know, at times life could just use a friggin enema. Out with the old, in the new, so to speak.

Women, I think daily often stifle the urge to flee, as we dream of driving off and waving goodbye to all of the people in our lives who gave us a headache on that given day.

Of course we don't, because we love those people, but it's a thought.

Men, on the other hand... Well, I wonder about you guys.

The wife AND the girlfriend?

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posted by Key on 02:07 PM | Comments (3)

November 22, 2004

Come On, Munuvians...

Lay on some hands.

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posted by Key on 08:08 PM | Comments (1)

November 21, 2004

Bible Study Etiquette

Some of you may have noticed that I am not the overly evangelistic type. Faith, yes...organized religion, well, I've been trying to develop a flavor for it for the past 30 years or so.

My minister is attempting to prod this process along. He informed me that a Sunday evening Bible study was to be organized in my humble town of Bumbledookie, and that my family was to attend.

Okay, fine.

Fortunately, we know the hosts anyway. They are builders, and we are in real estate, so we've worked together a good bit. They live in a beautiful home which has been professionally decorated. And it was immaculate.


I walked in with only my keys. I sought to find a place that I could lay them down that would be obvious enough for me to recall two hours later.

I chose the mantle in the Living Room where we held the study. I immediately noticed the shiny pair of sturdy hand cuffs slung atop the mantle between two glorious vases, each holding a three foot tall mass of synthetic foliage...but, of course, I said nothing to my host as he showed off his remote control fireplace.

The room filled. The Bible study ended, and as the social hour was winding up, I slid back toward the Living Room to grab the keys and make the exit.

But I just couldn't help myself.

"Phyllis," I yelled to my hostess - a good twenty feet away in the Kitchen - as I picked up the cuffs and allowed them to dangle, "you and Don left your cuffs on the mantle..."

In my defense, I did wait until the room was only inhabited by females. Still. One of them was her teenage daughter, who turned quite crimson, though the others did laugh. What else could they do?

So, I shut up then. Really? Yeah, right! I walked over to the group and chided, "that's okay, Phyllis, I know they must belong to one of the kids; the emergency release levers haven't been sawed off."

Have you ever seen people turn red? It's fascinating really.

I don't think I'm going to get asked back next week.

Show Comments »

posted by Key on 09:44 PM | Comments (9)

November 20, 2004

Late Night, Early Morn

A couple of posts ago I mentioned Miss Priss being the victim of an on again, off again friendship...at the ripe 'ol age of 8. It would seem that one Miss Drama Queen has proclaimed herself most popular in the class, and therefore it is her job to play the part.

She has chosen Miss Priss and one Other Friend as her cronies, and she alternates between the two. One is befriended and one is mocked or isolated one week, then the next week she switches.

I know the girl. I know her mama. I LIKE her mama! This sucks. She's a normal kid in front of me.

Well....I decided it was high time to have Other Friend over, so that they could bond sans Drama Queen. Besides, I also figured that'd be the best way to get the whole story.

Other Friend confirmed the entire vicious cycle, looking pitiful as she described the days she is not spoken to, as punishment for various offenses, such as revealing the cost of Drama Queen's $8 sunglasses, after DQ had bragged to the class that she'd spent $100 on them.

She also said that Drama Queen had told the two of them that the three of them were just like the girls in Mean Girls.

Do I have to friggin home school my kid? Parents, don't let your little girls watch that damn movie! (Not at age 8 anyway...)

The sleepover was a success. These two get along beautifully. They stayed up too late, got up too early, and are currently outside in their pj's collecting bugs.

And amazingly enough, they've gotten more sleep than I have. My foster son chose a hell of a convenient time to pick up a projectile vomiting habit. That combined with an affinity for puking in bed, then rolling around in it, left me with the task of giving two baths (the last after midnight) and changing sheets twice. And now my joy is quarantine duty, even as I hope that this was only a reaction to some medicine I had just given him.

Gawd, I hope I don't send someone else's kid home with demon-possessed, head-spinning projectile vomiting...

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posted by Key on 08:55 AM | Comments (15)

November 19, 2004

From the Inbox

No longer needed...

I know how to send an E-mail now.You don't have to help me anymore.



Thanks for the email, honey. Nice, personal touch. Just don't give your email address out to anyone whose mommy I don't know, 'kay?

...One more area in which I am no longer needed. She's growing up, and I'm cool with that. (Pardon me while I sob.)

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posted by Key on 04:22 PM | Comments (7)

Mid-Afternoon Briefing

As I am currently attempting to regain control of my life after a mucoid demon possession lingering illness, I find myself a bit overdrugged overwhelmed as I take in the tasks before me.

In my compromised state, I have a confession to make. For uses other than enjoyable conversation, great sex, endless debating, keen biz sense, and kidlet entertaining, I'm pretty fucking useless. Not that I don't know how to do anything else, I just don't want to.

The first step is admitting it.

I feel better now. So, you will forgive me for taking months to update my blogroll, as this does not make the list of areas in which I excel. And if I inadvertantly left you off, you will send me a kind email ordering me into action. This I expect and appreciate.

Also, you will notice that guest blogging is not an area listed in which I excel. Now, I will not turn you down should you ask, but nor will I make any promises should I accept.

For example, in some instances it might take me a few days to come up with a kick ass post, and when one of your readers reacts by immediately screaming for your return, I might get insulted and do something drastic.

I'll let you know when I think of something.

Now...off to rub some right-wing discipline on it and accomplish the mundane tasks in this office before me...which also do not make the list.

(If you need me, I'll just be picking the salt out of my wounds.)

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posted by Key on 03:43 PM | Comments (7)

Oh Gawd Tell Me IT'S NOT SO!

I'm going to have to relive my teenage years, aren't I?

Yeah. Thought so.

Miss Priss is all of eight years old. EIGHT! Well, guess what?

Miss THANG had a bad day. I'm sympathetic. Seriously, I am. Her little I was your friend last week, but I'd rather make fun of your ass this week "friend" from school is about to get her ass beat.

So, we went out to my baby's favorite restaurant. I told her my playground horror stories, and what I wish I had said...had I had the nerve then that I do now. She laughed and awed, "Reeaallly?"

Progress, right? Wrong. That was merely the eye of the storm.

Homework was more difficult than usual. Foster brother was more annoying than usual. And mom wouldn't let her stay up late. (wata. bi. chiam.)

Sooooo, I just got finished staring at the wrong side of a slammed door.

What just happened?

This rate is kinda steep. Can I buy down the points? I'd like to get her age down from 8 and change to five even. (I'm sure as hell not ready for double digits.)

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posted by Key on 02:51 AM | Comments (8)

November 18, 2004

Another Family Moment

The mother of my angel, her Primal Purginess, has once again decided to grace blogworld with her brilliance.

Adulate her at once, for she has not only bestowed her blessing upon the new Veloci-key addition, she has posted pics of the little angel that she and I spawned together.

She has touched me in a deep way.

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posted by Key on 06:28 PM | Comments (5)

Ode to Election 2004

+Hello Red state, Hello Blue state (A Letter From Camp, by Young Dave with fond acknowledgment to Allan Sherman)

Hello Red state, hello Blue state,
Some feel just fine, some don’t feel great.
Some own small caps, some own hi-tech,
One is making all-time highs and one’s a train wreck.
Some went voting for John Kerry.
‘Bout the future, they did worry.
Others voted for George Dubya.
Claiming he had been anointed from above, yeah.

Stem cell pros hate soccer mothers,
And the rest just hate the others.
We can’t seem to find a middle,
Where is Nero now? We need someone to fiddle.

The fear-mongers want to scare ya,
Does Al-Qaeda have malaria?
Is there someone stout and hardy.
With the stones to organize a new third party?

Where’s your dough, oh Red state, Blue state?
Where’s your dough? Division I hate,
Is it caused by the stock market, where
For some, it’s really been a bear?
Where’s your dough? Invested in the hot small caps?
Or hi-techs that have taken craps?
Has your wealth slipped away?
What’s happened with your 4-0-1-k?

Blue state dearest, Red state honey,
Does it just come down to money?
All your values, would you miss them?
If your broker’s brilliance made you want to kiss him?
Wait a minute, who are they hailing?
Not snowboarding, he’s not sailing.
Action hero, is that better?
Red state, Blue state, would you go for Schwarzenegger?!

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posted by Young Dave on 05:00 PM | Comments (5)
» Mamamontezz's Mental Rumpus Room links with: Hello Red State...

November 17, 2004

Naming the Daddies

I decided that my blogchildren need daddies. Link love is great from a mom, but nothing can replace the gentle prodding of a father figure.

My oldest was begat as a result of incest. He's gotten older now, outgrown his mom, and is threatening to turn his back on blogworld. That ungrateful punk. I think his daddy needs to kick his ass for making his mama cry.

My next little darling is plugging along quite nicely, and now that I've had the opportunity to watch him grow, I'm pretty certain who his daddy is. This would be Sam's work. Similar writing styles, even similar eyes...check it! (Sorry Sam, I was going to keep up the whole "godfaddah" front, but it's just too painfully obvious at this point.)

There is only one on the roll who would even consider fathering my liberal baby. So, Jack, smoke 'em if ya got 'em. This one's yours. (Honey, daddy's vacationing in Paris right now, but I'm sure he'll show you some link love as soon as he returns.)

Well, those are my boys.

But I really want a fourth, and I could use a girl this time. I got nuttin in the oven, so I went to the playground and blognapped the most adorable child I could find.

Queenie is still a newborn, but she found her way into this world without me. Still, if she'll have me, I'd like to claim her. The child doesn't hold back. She can be hot, cruel, articulate, cutting...but always LMAO entertaining. Velocigod, as I know how you love and adore the ranting capabilities of the fairer sex, I hope you will join me in my endeavor to raise this adorable child.

Okay, daddies...off ya go. Time to pay your child support. (I take cash, check, or money order, payable to K-e-y....kidding. Just show your babies some link love, 'kay?)

Show Comments »

posted by Key on 07:45 PM | Comments (27)
» The Brier Patch links with: Naming Names
» Velociworld links with: Unplanned Parenthood, I Called It
» Primal Purge links with: Don't disappoint me... hit her hard
» Straight White Guy links with: Judgment Day
» Ellis Island links with: We Need Queenie!

November 16, 2004

Go Lawren!

The girl is news! (Not only that, but she also has a really cool middle name.)

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posted by Key on 10:33 PM | Comments (2)

PMS Cookies

Anyone leaves any variation of the whole "moment on your lips" creed, gets their IPO shoved into their nether-nether-land. 'kay?

Okay! So let's make cookies!

First, go buy a 12 oz. bag of Nestle toll house morsels. Turn it over. Use the recipe on the back of the bag for toll house chocolate chip cookie dough. (No need to hold your hand through the boring part.)

Now, you've just begun.

After you've added your 2 cups of chocolate chips, follow with 3/4 cup chopped pecans and 3/4 cup Heath toffee bits. Good... You just put gasm in orgasmic.

Now. Ball the little gems up and stick on the cookie sheet. Garnish tops with M&M's. Hell yeah. Now, bake. Don't leave the room. Watch them.

When the edges are light brown, but the cookies still look raw, PULL OUT baby, you're done.

They'll solidify on the sheet. Mmmmm...

I can't believe I shared this intimate part of my life with you people.

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posted by Key on 05:35 PM | Comments (6)

Diabetes Testing Supplies

I'm googling if I ever have a need.

But apparently I'm a freak. Studies have shown that most people who are in the market actually respond almost exclusively to the oatmeal guy riding in on a horse with a western backdrop.

Go figure.

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posted by Key on 05:17 PM | Comments (2)

Online at Home

And? Those of you who don't know me are thinking. ABOUT FUCKING TIME! Those of you who do know me are screaming to the tops of your lungs.

I've been paying for this shitty ass dial-up service since September, so I thought I might as well hook it up to this shitty ass computer with the sticking space bar and the retarded mouse with an inverted ball.

And let it be known that this sucks.

But I'm out there, and the Blogfaddah - no I'm not going to link your ass, I have to open another fucking window to do that...or (gasp) type it - just told me to get over myself...after all, he used dial-up for two years, walked uphill in the snow both ways, etc.

So, here I am baby. And when I am fully accustomed to living with this handicap, you will see more of me.

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posted by Key on 03:16 AM | Comments (9)

November 15, 2004

Thanks Fellas

If only I had more time to play on the internet...If only I could get DSL at home, I would no doubt devote each and every weekend to this noble sport.

Alas...as this is not the case, I sincerely thank Velocimaster and my Mystery Guest Blogger for keeping my lonely blog company over the weekend.

Perhaps, should they choose to continue the trend, they can prevent my weekend hits from plunging into the teens, thereby screwing up my averages in the days to follow...at least that would be my line of thinking were I a hit-counter, which I'm not...not that there's anything wrong with that.

MGB, I laughed and I cried. Truly no one has ever dedicated such a tribute on my behalf. But don't think that I don't get your aim. You mean to inflate the expectations of those who have not yet met me, no? Yeah, that's the ticket. Then, when they do meet me, the disappointment will be tangible.

Shrewd. Still, next time I'm right and you are so terribly wrong, I will go easy on you. You've earned that much. Maybe I'll even let you win one.

But, in the effort of honesty, I must set the record straight. This is what I look like. Not only that, but my skin and my tan have run off together. I need new ones.

Also, I will be giving up the following things for Lent:

caffeine, alcohol, sprouts, half-rubber, toking, rolling, geeking, flirting, exercising, and swallowing.

The last two are stellar sacrifices on my part, therefore I see no reason to further torture myself by giving up my chocolate...nor my boy toys.

(Understand that this list is preliminary. I still have a few months to tweak out the kinks.)

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posted by Key on 08:19 PM | Comments (8)

November 14, 2004

key review

I have decided to write a review of Key Monroe, the way I would review a book, a movie, a Shiner beer, a new restaurant or a blow-job that I paid good money for anything else worthy of reviewing. I'm not reviewing the blog. I'm reviewing the PERSON.

Key is a stunningly good-looking woman. She turns heads when she walks into a room, and I ain't talking about just the big heads, either. Key is tall (and she sometimes wears platform shoes to ADD to her altitude, just intimidate short, sawed-off fucks such as Acidman), with long, Clairol's Best semi-blonde hair and a dazzling smile. Her voice is melodic, but not nearly as Southern as I would expect from someone from her part of Georgia. She is a serial flirt and damn good at it.

She just turned 30 years old. She was depressed by that thought, which made me chuckle because I know that she ain't even ripe yet. Key at 30 is pretty impressive. Key at 35 will be AWESOME. Trust me. I know these things.

Key likes to argue. SHE calls it "a debate," but it's an argument, pure and simple. She also has an annoying habit of stopping an argument by suddenly declaring victory, announcing "I am right and you are wrong. Admit it." and then gloating over her "victory." She likes to rub it in even when she doesn't win.

Key can hit a half-rubber, too. She swings a mighty broomstick and watching her in action persuaded me to grant her "victory" any time she wants it in an argument, lest she take a brookstick to my Cracker ass and lay welts on me like worms. I'll piss her off by being a smart-ass now and then, but I don't think I ever want to make her really mad at me. That could hurt.

The sorry-ass doesn't blog enough, and I don't buy her "work" and "no home computer" excuses for running a lonely page. She's just lazy. Anybody who can talk non-stop the way SHE can has no excuse for not posting DOZENS of times every day.

Take THAT, Key. I am right and you are wrong. Admit it.

She also has a very disgusting attraction to cats. About the only time she'll STOP talking on the phone is to hold a cat up to the receiver so that you can hear it purr, when she KNOWS that you hate cats. Yeah, she does shit like that.

But she's a Bulldawg fan, and that washes away a multitude of sins in my book. She can't hold any liquor, but that's not bad because it makes her a cheap drunk. A couple of glasses of wine, and she's tanked. That leaves all the good shit at the bar for the pros to consume.

Yeah, Key is all right. I give her Four Stars.

(mystery guest-blogger)

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posted by Key on 11:06 PM | Comments (8)
» Gut Rumbles links with: groundless accusations

November 13, 2004


I occasionally thumb through my vinyl records, looking for the odd album I haven't heard in years. Today? Hocus Pocus, by Focus. Yodelling! Thankfully I just put a new drive belt on the Yamaha turntable, and I am able to confirm for the chirren what a real geek the Old Man really is.

Yodelling! Somewhere I have some Lawence Welk accordion music, but one must break in the kids gradually. Come yodel with me to the mesmerizing stylings of Focus, people. And may I be banned from this site forever.

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posted by Velociman on 07:22 PM | Comments (5)

November 12, 2004

Kiss 'n Tackle

Hey, it beats spin the bottle, and even half-rubber for that matter. People, this is genuine entertainment.

At age 13, there was no better sport in the world than a good 'ol round of kiss and tackle.

For those of you who never played, the set up is similar to duck-duck-goose...circle of people with one in the middle. And yeah, the one in the middle lost the last round, so to speak.

The boys are assigned numbers, the girls letters, then a bingo-sounding combination is called, like G-7. Now. Who chases who depends on who lost the last round. So let's say that last time's loser, and therefore this time's occupant of the center chair, is a female.

Let the games begin. The next two players are getting ready to run. HE (7) wins by getting to the female in the center (home-base) and kissing her, which will prove to be an arduous journey. This is because SHE (G) wins by stopping him…tackling and laying one on him before he can get to her.

He loses, he’s in the middle, and when the next two are called, the guy gets to do the chasing.

People are slung, attacked, tripped, climbed upon, thrown onto innocent bystanders, held down, etc., all the while providing entertainment for the rest of the circle.

What doesn’t this game have? Huh? Challenge, intrigue, sex, violence... That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!

Where you say, did I ever engage in such a foul activity?

Duh... Church camp.

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posted by Key on 09:53 PM | Comments (9)

Peterson - Guilty!!!!!!!!!

Hell yeah. He'll be lucky if he gets death by needle.

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posted by Key on 09:25 PM | Comments (3)

November 11, 2004

A New Liberal to Play With

So, last week I jumped into the lion's den with Felber's concession speech, which now has over 300 comments, and isn't pulling up on the direct link. (It can, however be accessed through November archives.)

For every right comment I wrote over there, I had three or more lefties coming back.

One of the three - liberal though he is - was thoughtful, polite, and even understanding in his debate. It was quitting time that day, so I had to head out, but I emailed him and thanked him for the intelligent debate. I even suggested that he should have his own blog, so that I could have somebody to play with.

He initially offered several excuses for not having one, but apparently he has come around. Ladies and gentlemen, without further adieu, I give you The Polite Liberal!

Please, don't everyone attack him at once...we have sooooo much time for that later. For now, just go by and say hi.

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posted by Key on 06:51 PM | Comments (8)

November 10, 2004

Dumping Bodies

As long as I'm venting about that which I can not control, I must applaud the Peterson defense team for successfully proving a negative.

Too bad the judge ruled the video inadmissible.

For those of you who missed it, Peterson couldn't have dumped the body using that little unstable boat, and it was proven by the defense team with a video reenactment.

Some guy fumbled around in the boat with a 150 pound dummy, flopping an ankle here, stumbling there, and successfully rocking the boat until it capsized.

They shoulda let it in. Seriously. THEN the prosecution should have countered with a video of someone ambling into the boat, and flopping out the stupid dummy end over end.

One more thought....so what if it capsized? Does that somehow preclude the action?

So he got wet. It is still conceivable that he capsized AND dumped the body!

Okay, no more news for a while. It's gonna give me an ulcer.

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posted by Key on 08:39 PM | Comments (6)

And the STFU Award of the Day Goes to...

Surprise! Madonna...

She thinks we should just raise the white flag to the terrorists, and get the hell out of Iraq. Not that she gives a shit about the livelihood of our military personnel, but they might inadvertently - given their trigger happy hillbilly heritage - get blood thirsty and bomb thousands of innocents. And why fight terror anyway? It's everywhere; we may as well learn to live with it.

So I paraphrased that a bit, but read the article. It's there, and here's a direct quote regarding the election results:

"We have people who don't want to think, and who just want to guard what is theirs, and they're selfish and limited in their thinking and they're very fearful in their choices."

Yes, we do have those people, and you would be one of them, sweetheart.

Charity could be so easily privatized if the richest among us (celebs) put their money where their mouth is. They'd rather froth over about how the hard-working middle class should fork over funds for THINGS WE ARE MORALLY OPPOSED TO such as abortion. You want it so badly? Huh? Does it mean that much to you?

Good. You fund it.

Until then, shut up and sing.

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posted by Key on 05:56 PM | Comments (12)
» suburban blight links with: Blight on the News - Hell In A Handbasket Edition!

November 09, 2004


Slack. Ass.

I'm sorry. I'm half-assed on the job due to the blog, and half-assed on the blog due to the job.

I WILL update my blogroll by the end of this week. I have so many to add, particularly my new blogmeet pals.

There's also a new addition who hasn't been added, not to mention a slew of you who I am likely forgetting. (Please don't be afraid to email me if you are a regular, and I still haven't added you. It is NOT intentional. And, in case it's not obvious...I'm linking love, not traffic here.)

One more that I haven't previously linked in a post, yet will definitely be adding to the roll is Queenie. I like a girl who tells it like it is, with a delicate balance of neither holding back, nor going overboard. (I am going to ASSUME -since the author has multiple blogs- that she is not regretting the fact that she linked ME on Inblognito. These might be empty calories over here, but, hey, I try to make them as enjoyable as possible.)

OK. So it's a promise. Do you hear me EVIL guy? Do not smite me yet. You're day is nigh.

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posted by Key on 10:52 PM | Comments (3)
» Gut Rumbles links with: I love blogs


...from my drug-induced coma. Oh yes, I slept.

But I still look like something the cat coughed up, and my brain cells are still polarized, so understand that, as my writing may appear fragmented at best, it is taking every juicy drop of my brain magma to accomplish such run-on sentences as this one.

BTW, even during my 6 hour palpitating high, I didn't run over any liberals.

(I may have batted a couple of 'em around a bit with my claws as I watched them wiggle and squirm, but that's totally forgivable.)

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posted by Key on 09:51 PM | Comments (4)

November 08, 2004

Happy Monday

It sure as hell feels like one.

Yes, as being braindead seems to be go around, I seem to have caught a bad case of it myself. Wimp that I am, I don't live well on two, maybe three hours of sleep.

Apparently, I took the wrong combination of medications last night as I attempted to treat both a pulled muscle and a sinus headache.

I went from being in pain and quite grumpy to no pain and quite high out of my mind within the window of about 30 minutes, sometime around 3 am.

Unfortunately, I was WAY too tired to enjoy it. Plus, I'm not a nurse, but I think when your heart is jumping around at 80 beats per minute at rest, that might be a bad thing.

That lasted six hours.

WTF did I take, and how the fuck is it legal?

Whew. Blurry screen. Goodnight blogworld.

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posted by Key on 10:39 PM | Comments (4)

November 06, 2004

Blogworld Dreams and Orgy Wishes

He got 'em. She got 'em.

Where's my supa-erotic dreams? I was playing football with a swollen foot last night...WTF?

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posted by Key on 06:22 PM | Comments (5)

If Ya Want Somethin' Done "Right"...

So I went back there today; I knew you people weren't going to go over there and defend my ass in my absence! That's okay, I understand. It's scary.

So, I've brought one of the samples over for you. I went back and forth with several people, and finally, Tess decided to launch an interrogation. Here are the Q and A's:

Q: You don't want the millitary spending cut even if it produces waste.

A: No cuts. You don't cut your security budget when there's a murderer loose in your neighborhood. However, misallocations could be better spent. Our boys and their families could use more money for one thing. They work for a living, and they defend our freedom. I'd say they've earned it.

Q: You want a general cut in spending because big gov't produces waste.

A: Yes. Privatization would be more efficient. I don't see it happening even with my guy in office, but further damage will be minimized.

Q: You want adults to stop getting social services because they become lazy and slothful because they're getting a free meal.

A: YES! Exactly. This type of aid should be short-term and on an emergency basis while employment or further education is sought, otherwise the dependence goes on indefinitely and the taxpayer burden is passed on from one generation to the next. The government turns a blind eye because it is easier to pay them off than to help them succeed.

Q: But you advocate that children should get help because they are innocents.

A: Absolutely. They can't help it that their parents are slack and have been neglecting them since the day they were born. They deserve an opportunity to be more than that. When they become productive members of society, the chain is broken.

Q: So the only solution I can see from that arrangement is to hand out contraceptives and birth control to adults instead of social services so they don't produce innocent children that will be abused until they're taken away from their parents.

A: Hey, that sounds good. Unfortunately, county health clinics are already doing that, yet the problem persists. Some people choose to be irresponsible. They don't want help. They want a free ride, and they don't want to contribute anything.

See...You think you're being politically correct by supporting this downward spiral. Well, that's great, but it never fixed anything. Sometimes those of us with the "tough love" attitude actually care the most.

We want improvement, not tolerance.

As I postscript, I will admit that I may have put myself out there with that last line, as it could easily be taken out of context.

However, within context, I stand by it.

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posted by Key on 05:24 PM | Comments (3)

November 05, 2004

So You think I haven't Written Anything Today?


I have been writing my ASS off...

First, I decided to get into a debate over at Geoffrey's with the self-proclaimed "crazy Liberal Lesbian Aunt Connie."

She's not going to admit it, but I think I've converted her.

So that was peaches 'n cream compared to what I did next...I decided to jump into the lion's den at what appears to be a rather popular liberal blog (hat tip to Young Dave).

I have to go home now to my kuntry kunservtive abode what has no DSL, but if I'm not mistaken I'm still being attacked over there. So, don't let me down people; go over there and defend my ass whilst I'm not here to defend myself. (No, do not read all 200 comments; scroll the last 30 or so...)

That is all. (Week-end bloggers may have at it, should you feel the urge.)

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posted by Key on 11:12 PM | Comments (5)

November 04, 2004

From the Inbox

On gay rights...

I think the pundits are missing something with the whole Jesus thing - - only a small percentage of those who voted against the same-sex marriage thing did so for religious reasons – the rest of us did so because we think that WOMEN should suck cock and we’re fucking tired of all the whining from the “Neil and Bobs” about their so-called fucking rights.

What an asshole.

Yet entertaining, so I've added him to my list of weblog authors. Look for him as Young Dave.

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posted by Key on 10:33 PM | Comments (6)

Read the Fine Print, Buttlick

Do all tenants suck or just mine?

First of all, they weren't supposed to be renters. This was supposed to be a friggin LEASE PURCHASE, until these lovely people decided to wait until the day before closing to back out.

However, they decided to forego all monies earned towards closing costs to opt out of the purchase and continue on as tenants.

Today, I got the following letter in lieu of November's rent:

This is to let you know that we will be moving at the end of November. Please use part of the $1000. deposit you have from us for the November rent. When i drop the keys off i let you know where to sent the remaning $350.00 to.

Thank you

Yeah, right! Nice try. So, I cussed a bit, regrouped, and pulled the guy's file. This is first Special Stipulation on the Lease/Purchase Agreement:

Buyer to pay seller $1000 deposit (not to be held in escrow) which will count toward buyer's down payment at closing. If buyer is unable to close, seller will retain deposit regardless of reason for termination.

All nice, neat, and initialed. Sooo...I'm right, he's wrong. I'll still never see the money, and there's no telling what he's done to the place.


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posted by Key on 07:58 PM | Comments (3)

November 03, 2004

A Child is Born

I have recently given birth people, and I am quite proud of the new addition.

Dave, that is an impressive start, and that's not just maternal bias.

In case you're interested in your heritage, here goes:

The blogfaddah is your maternal grandfather. He's incestuous, so guard your women. Due to his uh, prowess, you have too many aunts and uncles to name, but I'll name one...

Eric is your red-headed step uncle...and if you ever start doing this...particularly in lieu of any other punctuation...you got it from him...

Jim is your big brother, but he's on an extended vacation, so you'll have to get to know him later.

I've chosen Sam and Kelley to be your godparents, and you'll thank me for it. Folks like these two make life in blogworld worth living.

I have no clue who your daddy is. Sorry, it's just that way in blogworld. You'll get used to it. But I can help you narrow the search.

Try Geoffrey, Velocigod, Jack, Denny or David. Let me know if you find any resemblance there.

(Oh, and I'll be commenting all over the place as soon as I can get my stupid blogger log-in to work again.)

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posted by Key on 10:57 PM | Comments (8)
» Gut Rumbles links with: another newborn
» The Brier Patch links with: I'm A Godfather

How Do You Spell Relief?

No, I won't be rubbing it in...

To be honest, Kerry did much better than I anticipated. While I was excited for our President, I was shocked (and yeah, admittedly, disappointed) by the number of people voting Democratic. I must wear blinders to some extent, as I've preferred to assume that the fondness for big government isn't prevalent in my backyard...that is, until I am told that 1,240,368 people in Georgia voted for Kerry! Suddenly, I'm spooked, as I wonder how many otherwise normal-looking people - whom I may run into on a daily basis - are secretly voting democratic!

I just don't get it. My motivation isn't a hatred of the other party. Mine is a plea for less government. What is the motivation of the other side?

Maybe we'll never bridge the gap. Maybe I'll never understand. And then, maybe there is hope.

Jack is the most thoughtful (as well as intelligent) moderate I know. We have had extensive debates via email regarding my fiscally ultra-conservative position on any topic other than defense. Perhaps Jack is just more compassionate...while my hard ass believes that even compassion, nay, especially compassion should be privatized.

Miraculously, Jack and I are tight. He's my bud. Typically, the pattern is as follows: I go and start trouble by leaving an antagonistic comment on his blog, we take it outside (email), we get it out of our system (long diatribes), then we catch up on life (chit chat)...because at the end of the day, we are two caring people.

I think most of us are. Maybe this won't be as ugly as anticipated.

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posted by Key on 06:51 PM | Comments (7)

November 02, 2004

Don't Sweat it Folks!

It's only capitalism! Worse case scenario, we can tell the commie kiddies that we remember when...

While we wait, I have found something most pleasurable that is spreading like wildfire all over blogworld.

A philosophy is provided courtesy the great Velocimaster. Ahh...yes, I think that puts it all in perspective.

To think, I read him religiously for the past year, hoping for a glimpse of the man behind the madness.

Nothing. I think he posted half his nose from behind an umbrella one time. So I drag my ass to this crazy-ass meet for a privileged glimpse...

And now? Well, so much for exclusivity. The mug has been pimped. Eric, honey, I just have one thing to say to you...

You could have charged.

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posted by Key on 09:20 PM | Comments (8)

November 01, 2004

Electoral College Replaced by Football and Canines

No, I still do not have time to write, and I thank the great Velocimaster for kindly filling in.

But I had to say something about this.

I suppose everyone knows that people were watching the Redskins Sunday...the theory being, they win, the incumbent wins.

I suppose everyone noticed the officials taking a touchdown away from the Redskins just before GB managed to acquire possession and score on the next play.

You could say they were robbed. I mean it's arguable.

I won't go there.

I would just like to take this opportunity to thank Senator Kerry for lending out his attorneys to officiate that game Sunday.

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posted by Key on 06:37 PM | Comments (4)

Thyre Be Monsters...

Many little creatures rang my doorbell tonight. They were costumed as pirates, and vampires, and faeries, and daemons. Princesses and bumblebees were in evidence. They were excited, and filled with faux-dread. Most of them don't believe in monsters, of course.

The troubling thing is, there really are monsters out there. Bogeymen, brigands, and cutthroats. It's sad to see these youngsters, and realize in a few short years that realization will hit them.

But in the meantime, it's kinda nice to just hand out the jelly beans and jujubes, and let them have their little Devil's Night.

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posted by Velociman on 01:06 AM | Comments (4)