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

July 30, 2006

Bad Kitty

She looks cute doesn't she?
onyxsofa.jpg

Uh-huh. Oh, she is. And she knows it. Walks with her tail in the air. Always. Lets us hold her...sometimes. But we let her get away with it. However, we did have to spank her pretty behind when she began pissing places other than her designated box in the basement. Her punishment was being confined to the basement for one hour. And this is the look of indignation we received shortly after her release:
onyxdresser.jpg

It was that very night - Friday - that she became (figuratively) pissed and ran away from home. No joke. I opened the door long enough to lock up the car, and she was gone. Priss and I called, and called, and called for two days. No kitty. So this am around 8, I went out onto the porch to try again. There she sat, in the corner, looking both afraid and humbled.... and quite disheveled. After all, the long haired princess hadn't been out of doors in 5 years. So we brought her in, made sure that she had plenty to eat and drink and combed the burs out of her underfur. She is still acting kind of pitiful, but I think she's okay:
onyxfloor.jpg

Thank gawd she returned. Priss was beginning to believe that she was a curse to all animal life. Hopefully all balance is restored. Currently, the big, furry princess is pouting in the basement, Priss is busy shredding a month's worth of credit card offers for me, and I am preparing the supplies for her first day of school....which is tomorrow. July 31. (Which is just wrong, btw, but that is another post...)

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posted by Key on 07:19 PM | Comments (2100) | TrackBack (0)

July 29, 2006

As Promised

And only a month late... Not bad for me! A bit pixelated, but best I could do to keep the file size down, given I am still using Priss's machine, and I still don't have my beloved pic-formatting software.

This would make a great seven dwarfs go men in black theme, but we got too tall on the end messing up the height pre-req, and we got numba seven awol, disinterested... steps away on the air conditioned side of the hotel room, getting some lap action from a Southern belle. (Oh yeah, got that pic too. That's for later, though.)

Here's the suits:

080_80.JPG

084_84.JPG

Aren't they lovely? I must admit, I was enjoying the scenery. Not the brightest of occasions, but nice to see that the little devils can be handsome when they want to be. Of course they did bitch and moan during the photo shoot; couldn't wait to get their bum asses into their street clothes. (As evidenced Exhibit V, above left.) But it was nice while it lasted.

footnote: If you are not in this picture - Cat! - it is not because you were underdressed. It is because you weren't in the frikkin parking lot when I dared to pull out the camera! I wasn't my typical shutterbug self, but if only I could share a mental image or two...

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posted by Key on 01:46 AM | Comments (108) | TrackBack (0)

July 28, 2006

Quality Control

I am having trouble writing these days.

I am still online every day. And I still love most of you peeps.

But I've been reading through my archives quite a bit since Acidhead abandoned us... You know, so I could love and hate him all over again.

And many times I laughed out loud. He could be such an ass.

In one particular instance, after he left a "pulling pigtail" comment, I left one underneath, saying that "Sesame Street just wouldn't be the same without Oscar the Grouch."

Even at five years of age, I wanted to fix that damned Grouch. After all, I could see through him. I knew he had a good heart. (And living in a bottomless trash can...? Wow, the intrigue! I wanted a tour.)

Anyway, we still have plenty of charming, lovable and nerve-grating characters left here, of course, and as I perused the archives, I ran across many of your comments as well, and laughed to myself. It's good to have you guys.

Too bad I'm not much of a producer these days.

See, I have digressed, but my original point is this:

As I reviewed the archives, I ran into many damned good posts that I had written, posts that I am proud of, and don't mind revisiting.

Unfortunately, I ran into many more that just. plain. sucked. Cringe-skim-over-don't even check the comments, sucked. Embarrassingly sucked.

This is not news. I have known this for a while, which is why I decided that I would no longer publish the suck ones! Brilliant quality control, non? Right, I will only publish the fantastic ones, enviable prose, profound wit, entertaining banter, all of these qualities present to make the cut.

Problem? Since making this resolution, I haven't had a whole helluva lot to say. Heh.

I just don't think quality control can happen on the front end. And so, shit must be written. And I knew this maybe, heard it definitely, throw the shit til something sticks, right? This from the Blogfadda among other peeps.

I got tired of doing that, thought I'd try a different method. You know, less content, more quality. Well, that failed. I mainly accomplished less content, less content. My page became a stranger to me, and I simply did not feel comfortable in it.

Apparently there is no way around it. Meaning, I am basically running a disclaimer here, to prepare you guys for some shitty posts. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I'll start with some pics of some bloggers*.

[*Just as soon as I beat my computer into submission on that Photoshop download. Good thing I know a techgod.]

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posted by Key on 12:47 AM | Comments (1870) | TrackBack (0)

July 20, 2006

Tales From A Techtard

Fifteen thousand dollars later...

That's right. That's how much our biz spent four years ago to buy all new machines, and wire and network those machines. Being techtards, we hired it all out, and because my husband hired personal friends, we very likely took it up the butt on that bid.

And here we are, 4 years later and the biz is dissolved (due to Shrek's premature mid-life crisis), so I looted the office, bringing home anything useful. You know, fax machine, post-it notes, the newest of the computers and our poor, neglected office pet, a mini-catfish, shark-looking fella.

My machine is in the basement, on the floor, unplugged. The one I am using now belongs to the Priss. Yesterday I deleted 500MGs of crap that she "accidentally" downloaded. Uh-huh...

Even such simple things as these periodic cleansings test my range of tech-capabilities, so who the hell knows if I deleted something important.

Anyway, 4 months of pictures finally burned to disk, I decided to download Photoshop. You know... So that I can retaliate when certain peeps make me out to look like Olive Oil.

I was teased for 18 minutes. Oh, it pretended to download. But in the end... Nope. Not happening. Wouldn't give up the goods.

Know why?? Because this stinking computer can't find the network! Well... That would be because we left the stinking network when we looted the office. It is now 12 miles away. We at home now!

So... I tried logging off. Cancelling the "log on the network" screen, and only entering the password for the windows log-on.

Got the same error message.

Grrrr... This possessed machine knows I'm a techtard. I think it's just fucking with me.

All that to say. I can't post my Savannah pics now. They are over a meg, and I can't even download the free Kodak crap.

Now, all you smarty-smart smarts out there who have known for the last 5 paragraphs how to fix my prob, you may leave your clue below.

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posted by Key on 08:37 PM | Comments (117) | TrackBack (0)

July 14, 2006

Maintenance

I hate maintenance.

I loathe maintenance.

The fun is in creating, dammit. I am a master planner! Screw the follow through.

New custom-built kitchen cabinets... Cool! But uh...Who's going to dust them for me?

Friends from high school? Got 'em. Talk to them if, ya know, if they have a kid, or get married or divorced or won't stop leaving me voice mails.

New hair-cut! Groovy. Dammit. Every time I wash it, I gotta start all frikkin over with the mess. (Body maintenance is the worst, btw. Daily burden and required before going out. The real reason I hate leaving my house.)

Point? Right. I have one. Hating maintenance as I do, I tend to be somewhat neglectful in that arena, and that would be all-inclusive, covering pretty much every single aspect of my life.

However, I do make a half-assed effort to maintain my blogroll.

I go in every six months whether it needs it or not. And then I stare at the coded mess and try to remember all the people I had been meaning to link.

Oh, I am very forgetful; it's crippling even. So if I have met you, and you are not on my "bloggers I've met" list, it is your duty to let me know. Likewise, if I would like to meet you, or if you would like to meet me, please clue me in to our mutual desires.

This guy is the new addition to the "get-yo-ass-to-a-blogmeet" club. (Long overdue, of course.) But I'll take on more. And... I'll even read you once a month, just like I do all the other guys on my roll.

I pamper you people, non? (Good thing you aren't plants...)

[P.S. Okay, I admit it. He won me over with this pic. I think I will filter all of my digitals through him from now on.]

Update: Lisa is added. It was also a tasteful pic that won me over. (I think she took it at a blogmeet...)

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posted by Key on 11:53 PM | Comments (227) | TrackBack (0)

July 12, 2006

I Miss Photoshop

I like this pic even betta.

Why Richard didn't dress Elisson up like Magnum P.I. or put the pimp hat on da Velocipimp, I know not... Nevertheless, kudos to Richard; I know that the work he did on yours truly must have been laborious indeed. And I'm totally luvin how he narrowed my frame a bit. (Now that he's proven his talent, he'll have the task of reworking all of my pics from here on out.)

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posted by Key on 09:35 AM | Comments (786) | TrackBack (0)

July 11, 2006

Old News

A week old.

But how can I not link it? A nine year old had a baby!

Good for her. She's doing well, watching cartoons, and playing with her dolls. Meanwhile, some tribal jackass needs to be fed his manhood.

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posted by Key on 07:38 PM | Comments (3436) | TrackBack (0)

July 10, 2006

That Mo Betta

My Dear Elisson,

Ya know I love ya, but... If ever the proportions are off, please err on the side of flattery, as follows:

JawjaBlodgersinBlack.jpg

Yeah, like I need another pixel on my hips! Heh. Standing sideways from now on... Oh, and why yes, we were shamelessly posing for the camera right after a funeral.

What? (We're bloggers. We have no shame.)

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posted by Key on 06:17 PM | Comments (182) | TrackBack (0)

RIP, Tater...

It is done. Quigley Tate (QT) is buried between a couple of hardwoods next to the drive. Miss Priss looked out of the side window for about an hour crying, but she is recovering now on the sofa with another popsicle.

She has informed me that Tate is in puppy Heaven, which is separated from regular Heaven by a fancy bridge, you know, so that when we get There, we can visit.

pupheadstone.jpg

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posted by Key on 03:40 PM | Comments (78) | TrackBack (0)

July 09, 2006

Broken-hearted

We weren't without dog very long before my only child, with cabin fever, started begging me for a small, frisky pet of her very own.

This, of course, posed a problem due to my allergies.

Miss Priss asked for a ferret.

I said, "sure, honey, just as soon as you're old enough to live on your own..."

Stink-glands or no, those things are icky.

But...My mom, my aunt, and my grandmother all have Yorkies, swear they don't shed, and they are all absolutely foolish over these animals.

My delicate sinuses doubted though... So, if I were to offer the "puppy" compromise - bribe! - it must be as hypoallergenic as possible. Oddly enough, a little internet reading revealed that most of the major breeds are being mixed with poodles to produce hypoallergenic pets. I knew that, but I suppose I had conveniently forgotten.

I wanted to wait. Research more. But due to much begging, I reluctantly agreed to meet with a breeder, just to look around, and see what what this "Yorkiepoo" hybrid breed looks like.

And we came home with this sweetheart:

pup1wmp.jpg

His name is Tate. And for the past three days he and Miss Priss have been inseparable. They bonded more quickly than I expected. And in the rare occasion that she has set him down for a moment, his little paws have been right on her heels.

Unfortunately, tonight he is fighting for his life. He was pitiful this morning, so we took him to the vet, tests were run, and x-rays revealed that he has a smaller than normal liver. He can no longer process glucose properly, and he is severely anemic as a result. He can't hold down anything, and his veins are too small for an IV.

We got a call from the vet tonight, and we have been prepared for the worst, but we will hope and pray for the best, and ask that you do too.

I just couldn't let this cute little guy come and go from this world without sharing his picture with a few friends.

Update: Little Tater didn't make it. He went into cardiac arrest this morning shortly after 9:00. Miss Priss wants to give him a proper burial, so we will be going by the vet this afternoon to pick him up. We are currently painting the little guy a headstone, which has actually been a great distraction for a mourning Priss. The breeder has contacted us, and is very sympathetic, and has offered Miss Priss the pick of the next litter. And she is grateful for that, but it just amazing how quickly she grew attached to this little fella's particular personality. (Priss is currently drowning her sorrows in popsicles.)

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posted by Key on 08:55 PM | Comments (329) | TrackBack (0)

July 07, 2006

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good
Bravo ladies, for bringing an end to a feud that Acidman would have given you absolute hell for...Oh yeah, he woulda accused you of having vapors and such, but he would have secretly enjoyed every second of it. And I'm not so sure he didn't have a front row seat. (And he often later became buddies with those he did battle with as well.)

The Bad
That stinks. It's a real fear for me, though it comes way after fear of losing a child or even a pet, which thankfully did not happen to my buddies. I don't know what to do for them, I think that Yabu and Shoe would give 'em a kidney if they thought it would help. I thought about the childhood pictures first thing, cuz ya know, I love my photo albums. Ironically, I hate scrapbooking parties. How gay. But for you, Chrissy, to restore the family albums, I'd be willing to commit to a labor of love, even consider happily travelling your way if you need help with the clippin' and stickin' once you've had ample time to recollect what you can from various family members, etc. (Hey, any excuse for a meet, right?)

The Ugly
Yeah, that's an ugly monkey... But really that was just a lead-in, so I could post the following pimp-daddy pic, thereby redeeming these two. I have pics of all the suits, of course, but this one was the only one I took with the cell phone, therefore the most accessible to a techtard.

Here da handsome devils:
pimps

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posted by Key on 07:43 PM | Comments (227) | TrackBack (0)

July 04, 2006

Happy Fourth

This may not look like much - especially since it is a pic of a pic - but this is one of my most favorite pictures of all times.

Taken nine years ago, this is the first time my Baby Priss saw fireworks. She never held still for an instant, but when it was time to look our country's birthday candles, she was miraculously focused.

BabyPriss.jpg

Update: And here for your viewing pleasure is yet another low res pic, a landscape of fireworks over the lake last night. (As for the little bitty lights that seperate the sky from the lake, those are actually a myriad of boats, and believe it or not, that sight was more spectacular than the fireworks.)

landscape2.png

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posted by Key on 01:28 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)

July 03, 2006

Is This For Real?

I didn't offer up a toast at Spanky's on River Street in Savannah, cuz that's all I could think of to say. Rather, I nodded, smiled, and raised a class of iced water with lemon as Eric and Elisson waxed eloquent, and Yabu and Velociman threw in the appropriate expletives.

Good ol' Georgia in the background recanting God knows what, while sweet Samantha and all too clever Stacey stared in amazement at those crazy people who once entertained the old man.

I think they liked us.

Anyway, I was doubtful that the funeral could in any way feel right. How could it? Not if it was traditional. And uh, pews, aisle, priest, flowers... Looked pretty traditional to me.

Scripture was read. But then he stopped. And I was so wrong. He admitted that he wasn't sure what Rob would want, but he felt certain that opening the floor to Rob's oldest friends would be the right thing to do.

And so, an old football/camping buddy stood and started with, "well, I can guarantee you that he wouldn't want you to stand up there and read Scripture..."

Heh. Yeah, I believe that was when I heard Denny's soft laughter in the background, and I knew I was in the right place. That was Rob Smith's funeral after all. As David informed me after, turns out the priest was an old buddy of Rob's, going back to before seminary school. A very appropriate fit.

And even as I attempted to have a tear-filled moment, upon viewing the collage of Acidhead pictures and the box in which he lay, the ever stoic and big-brotherly Zonkman was there to pick up my pieces, and so...I ushered myself to the foyer so as to catch an eyeful of some of the more infamous stars of Gut Rumbles.

After, we gathered with Rob's family, who were most welcoming. A spread of fine southern cuisine was available that would have fed half of Savannah. Unfortunately, my nerves were a mess, and wuzn't nuttin gonna stay down. So I passed. And Miss Georgia excoriated me after, explaining that at Rob's Mama's house it was rude not to eat!! Hadn't I learned anything from reading Rob's blog?!

Well dayum. I was waiting for the Immodium to start working, 'kay?! Yes, Georgia loves me, and called me today to say as much, so that was a bit of a side-note.

Next stop: Spanky's. The Exchange was plan A, but it had caught fire and was closed for renovations. Georgia knew this ahead of time, of course, but forgot to tell us. But thanks to every blogger having every other blogger in their cell phones, we got it together.

And it was good.

I met a few bloggers for the first time, felt the comfort of the old gang, and of course, discovered all over again, that these bloggas know how to come together, to love and support and drink their weight in likka, and in very rare occasions even, to put on a suit and a tie and act all kinda civilized. And ya know what? The scruffy little boogers clean up quite nicely. (Well, of course I have pics.)

That's it. That's all I have to say about that. Well, one more observation. I saw in our midst a few skeptics. I believe they will be selling tees by month end reading: FUCK ELVIS. ACIDMAN LIVES.

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posted by Key on 10:44 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack (0)