December 2007

I have nothing against tattoos.  Let me just get that out of the way.

I think some of them are quite beautiful, and I even sport a little one on my right shoulder. It’s a tiny red heart with a tail that whips around to pierce the center like an arrow. (What can I say?  I’m a romantic at heart.)

I even think piercings — if done tastefully — can be artful.

What I don’t get are body enhancements that are…well…for want of better words, freaky and or just plain stupid.

Here’s one.

This guy thought it would be a good idea to have a tattoo of a cat’s butt, using his naval From: the ummm…focal point of the picture.  I’m sure he thought it would be funny, but the fact that the artist actually colored the area differently just makes me think that maybe that cat has a hygene problem. I mean, really…most cats are very clean, but this guy hasn’t cleaned his ass in a very long time.

Now, compare and contrast with this tattoo.  Same concept, except it’s cow butt instead of cat butt.  Problem here is that this guy’s naval isFrom: huge.  It’s a danged cave, for Pete’s sake!  Maybe I’m a sicko, but this tattoo just reeks of a back-woods farmer who pleasures himself by visiting his girlfriend, Bessy, while she munches hay out in the back 40.

With this one, I just hope that the guy was skinny when he first got the tattoo, and his naval hole wasn’t that gaping in the original, unstretched version.  If so, I think that’s the perfect motivation to lose weight. Having a picture of Bessy’s ass on your belly is bad enough, but having one of Bessy with a black hole where her ass should be is just too much.  

I wonder if that guy has any problem getting dates?

Next, we go to the tattoo that isn’t a tattoo.  Looks kind of pretty; doesn’t it?  Nice From: theme. Subdued hues. Goes well with her body. But what you don’t see is what she went through to get this thing.

Warning: This website is not for the squeamish!  If you’re prone to puking, don’t look. If you’d like to see the absolutely ridiculous (and painful) lengths a person will go to in order to enhance his or her body, check this out!               

This is NOT a tattoo!

(Why am I hungry for pork rinds all of a sudden?)

Next, we move into the world of piercings.  If I were a guy, this is one woman I’d want to date. Now, this is sexy!From:

Okay, now really…why would a person do that to themselves? I mean I’m all for getting a little attention, but come on!  This chick’s face is ruined for life.  Imagine her when she’s 90 looking like that!  How’s an old woman with faded orange and pink wierdness and huge, sagging holes all over her face going to get Meals-on-Wheels to come to her house?  Come on!

Finally, we move past the extreme to the oh-my-GOD-this-is-riduculous realm.  This From:’s tattoo of a hot woman wasn’t enough for him, so he enhanced her. 

That’s right.  The tattoo was of the boring two-dimensional type, so he had silicon implants added, complete with nipples.  (Yes, little pointed nubs that you can see and feel if you are prone to fondling tattoo boobs.)

Again, I just keep seeing this guy when he’s 90.  The tattoo has faded and sagged on his old, wrinkled leg, but the tat’s boobs will still be young and firm — or will they?

I think it would be cool if, when the tattoo starts aging that he has the implants replaced with those that are more realistic for the lady’s age.  Maybe take a page from South Park’s Ms. Chokesondick.  Now, that would be a funny tattoo!




I ran across a website today advertising a product I would never have thought of in a million years. The website is, and the product is a man made diamond. 

That doesn’t sound too unusual; right?

The thing is, though, that the diamond is made from human remains. That’s right, you can take your loved one’s ashes or even a lock of his or her hair, send it to this company, and they will make a man-made diamond for you, suitable for setting in a ring, necklace, bracelet, etc.

Now, I’m all for keeping the memory of a loved one close to your heart, but actually wearing that persion is another thing entirely. As much as I loved my dad, I just can’t imagine wearing a ring made of Dad.

Can’t you just hear the conversation?

“Oh!  What a beautiful ring!  That diamond is stunning!”

“Why, thank you!  It’s Dad!”

“What? You mean your dad gave it to you?”

“No. The stone. It’s Dad.”

“You mean it is something he would have really appreciated, or it looks like a stone he would have chosen?”

“No, dolt. I took a cup of Dad’s ashes, sent it to this company, paid them $20k and they made this diamond out of him. Now, Dad can be with me all the time!”

Can you imagine the look on the other person’s face?

And where does it all stop?  What if you want Spot made into a ring or you have a pet hamster that was really special to you. Can you get a diamond made from a rodent, too?

I think whoever thought this up is dementedly brilliant, to be sure, because it’s an idea that could catch on. My question is, though, do you have to have a special permit to wear jewelry made from human remains?

And what about the less fortunate who can’t afford to have grandpa made into fine jewelry? Will they start just wearing Mom’s bone fragments in their pierced ears? 

What about Aunt Julie makeup? After all, that dust could make a great cover up powder with the right coloring added in.

Or, you just just leave it white for that I-never-go-out-in-the-sunlight-and-just-love-the-taste-of-blood look.

It’s the new wave of the future! A whole line of makeup and jewelry made from dead people.

At least we won’t have to worry about Soilent Green.

Or, will we???

The holiday season is upon is. Well, it’s more than upon us; we’re entrenched in it and have been, really, since before Thanksgiving, thanks to retail marketing.

During this time of year, I avoid shopping like the plague. The throngs of people on the roads and in the stores make me so anxious that I’ll do almost anything not to be around them. I’ve never understood those people who get up at 3am to be the first in line for Black Friday. To me, that’s like getting up early to be the first in line for the torture chamber.

Nuh uh. Not me.

When I think of all the pushing and fighting and waiting in endless lines, it does nothing but stress me out. Case in point, last night I had to go to GameStop and PetSmart for a quick game purchase and some pet food. Both places are in the same shopping center, which is about five minutes from my house, and I was literally in GameStop for less than two minutes — PetSmart for about five — but because of the ridiculous holiday traffic, it took me an hour and a half to get home. (I sat through 11 red lights at one intersection!)

The blatant commercialization surrounding this holy holiday has become worse and worse each year, until now, some Christmas advertisements begin gracing our TV sets and radios in early September. For many, Christmas has stopped being a celebration of the birth of Christ but an excuse to give and get presents. The sad thing is that, in our disposable, immediate gratification, get-what-you-want-and-get-it-right-now society, gift giving has become so difficult that there’s no joy in it anymore. It’s not like the old days when we lived more frugally and rarely got extras for ourselves; these days “I get what I want” is a way of life, leaving gift buyers scratching their heads trying to come up with just the right gift. Then, on Christmas day, as they hope against hope that the gift recipient will love what he or she got, they’re often disappointed by the lackluster response.

Because of all this, about five years ago, our family decided to stop giving gifts to one another for Christmas. I have to admit that the first year was strange, but as the years have progressed, we’ve all noticed something universal for each of us.

The meaning of Christmas has returned for us.

The focus is back on love and the joy of just being together. We have a wonderful meal. We talk. We laugh. We hug. We tell stories about old times and about family members and friends who are no longer with us. We play dominoes and/or cards. We watch a football game. We enjoy just being together for one of the few days a year when we are able to do that.

Any gift giving we do are for those less fortunate than ourselves; people who have needs that are unmet, people who are alone and/or infirm. People who can’t pay their electric bill, kids who have no shoes, families who have no food for a nice meal. Those are the gifts that truly count. Those are the gifts that mean something.

As the retail world continues to push you into giving them a bigger piece of your hard earned money, consider taking this route. The economy will survive, and you and your loved ones will benefit in ways you never expected.

Try it, and have the merriest of Christmases — from me to you!


And now, an admission, which may seem — on the surface — antethetical to everything I just said…

In spite of my panning the commercialization of Christmas, I have an admission to make. My favorite Christmas song, next to John Denver’s Aspenglow and The Carpenter’s Merry Christmas Darling, is a commercial jingle that’s familiar to almost every Oklahoman.

My love for the jingle began when I was just a tot growing up in Elk City, OK. We didn’t get many TV channels back then — especially living in a little prairie town in far western Oklahoma — but one of the channels we got if we moved our antenna to just the right spot was an Oklahoma City channel. Each year, starting the day after Thanksgiving, this jingle began playing on that channel, and since it coincided with the Christmas spirit rampup, I associated it with Christmas.

When I was six, we moved to Lawton, OK, a town that didn’t get Oklahoma City channels. For years, as Christmas approached, I always felt like something was missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then, when I was about 12, we finally moved from the dark ages and got cable. The day after Thanksgiving that year, I was in my room watching TV when the B.C. Clark’s Anniversary Sale commercial came on. I immediately stopped what I was doing and just stood there, transfixed, as waves of emotion came over me — nastagia and joy filled my heart with each note.

I have learned since then that that little jingle means the same thing to many, many Oklahomans. Megan Mullally, a native of Oklahoma City who became a household name when she starred on Will and Grace for many years, sang the jingle on The Tonight Show. It has been sent to service men and women overseas, sung on airplanes full of homesick Oklahomans, performed at school pageants and even in church services. It’s just not Christmas around here without it.

So for those of you who live near and far, here is the B.C. Clark’s Anniversary Sale jingle, so you, too, can share in a little Oklahoma Christmas tradition!

So, I’ve left a few dangling threads out there.

Sue me.

It’s been a little bit busy around here, what with work and play taking up every waking moment. (Awwww…poor me!)

Let me tie up a few of those loose ends.

1. The winter storm. Zero damage! (YAY!) What’s more, there is so much tree damage in town that the city is carting off tree limbs free of charge, so that pile I’ve had in the back yard for months will be gone this week, and it won’t cost me a cent. 

I think my desert willow survived, too, which is the best news of all. I’d have cried big girlie tears if I’d lost it. The only real pain in the you-know-what thing I have to do is cut back the pampas grass. It was beautiful before the ice, but now the huge fronds are all broken and bent. This year, I’ll be sure to get out the gloves before I start sticking my hands in that thing. (Have you ever had a hundred grass cuts from really big grass? Not fun!)

2. The guild meeting was a success, though I would have preferred more non-officer participation. Still, it looks like we are going to work on getting our member participation up in our raids, and if that doesn’t happen, we’ll move on to more serious measures. All in all, though, I think whatever steps we take will be for the better, and hopefully we can all stay together.  There’s a good chance of that anyway.

3. Though I haven’t mentioned this before, I’ve lost 16 pounds in the last month an a half. I guess that’s what a veggie addiction and a busy schedule will do for you. I feel better than I’ve felt in I don’t know when.  On top of it all, I’m more than content — I’m actually happy.

It’s been awhile, and I like it! :)


I‘m not really sure what to title this blog entry. In fact, it’s a little hard to write it; not because I don’t know what I want to say, but because I’m not sure how to say it.

A couple of months ago, I posted about leaving my old job and how hard it was to leave my friends there. A few weeks ago, I posted about how I’m not a very social person, and because of that, my friendships at work are very important to me. I also posted about my World of Warcraft addiction and how much fun it is to be a virtual bad-ass.

What I didn’t post was how important my gaming friends have become to me.  That may sound weird to anyone who doesn’t participate in a close-knit online community, but that little group of people are like family to me. I care about what happens to them, I look forward to being with them, they bouy me when I’m down and fight along side me, laugh with me, cry with me, celebrate hard won goals with me.

Through that game, I’ve met some very special people who have taught me a great deal about commitment, drive and determination. Sounds strange when you consider I’m talking about a game; doesn’t it? But it’s true. When a group of people work together for weeks and even months on end to achieve a difficult goal that requires consentration and teamwork, it takes those qualities to succeed. Our leader and some of the other officers in our guild who have served in the armed forces and have been to war liken the teamwork and effort it takes to succeed in game to that on the battlefield. Of course the dangers aren’t real, and the lives at stake are only virtual, but the teamwork, method and consentration required are the same.

It’s no wonder that the camaraderie is so strong. To listen to it as an outsider, you might agree that when we are “in battle,” the chatter sounds much like it might sound on a real battlefield, as officers are sending directions and warnings to the troups. It’s intense! It’s stressful! It’s hard work! The respect I hold for our leaders is as strong or stronger than the respect I feel for just about anyone else in my life.

So when we’re not in the middle of that, the times we share together are filled with laughter and fun. We let go with each other in ways many of us never do in our real lives. We share personal information we hold inside otherwise. We call each other and have long conversations about our lives, our ambitions and what really matters.

With all that in mind, it’s no wonder that any threat to our little family causes more than a little anxiety.  I’ve never been one to handle disequalibrium very well — I’m a both feet on the ground kind of gal — so I hate waiting and wondering for any shoe to drop, particularly when we’re talking about my favorite pair.

Today, I’m holding my breath, because something big is up. 

Our core group is strong, but the less committed people have caused us to falter at our goals, and it’s frustrating, particularly to our members who are all about progression. The holiday season has made the situation even worse, so things are quickly coming to a head. Decisions that affect us all are being made, and not everyone is going to be happy with the results. Some may leave us and move on to other groups. Some may not be able to make the changes required.

It makes me sad and worried, and I’m supposed to wait until 9pm tomorrow night to find out what’s going to happen.  I may go nuts before then, or at the very least, drive those around me nuts.  I really hate it.

I want things to stay the same, but nothing ever does; does it? (That’s a rhetorical quesiton; I know the answer.)

I just hope that whatever happens, the people I really care about stick it out with us.  I want to progress, too, but for me it’s the family that’s important. It’s the people. It’s people I couldn’t begin to name, lest this become pages long.  People with real names and real lives that I care about.

Below is a little video of what it’s like in our “battles.”  This isn’t our group, but it’s the same no matter what group is doing it.  I’m not sure you can get the real jist of it from watching this, but maybe you can get an idea.

I don’t want to speak too soon, since we have another major winter storm heading our way tomorrow and Saturday, but I think our house got out of this unscathed! (w00t!)

The tree limb looming over the north side of the house somehow stayed intact — I think it was close enough to the roof that, when the ice weighed it down, the roof kept it supported enough that it didn’t break.

We are so lucky!

Supposedly, there are still a million people in the state - or 42% of the population - without power today. I’ve never seen anything like it. We’ve seen worse storms, but I think it was the type of precipitation that did us in. Freezing rain coated layers of ice on tree branches, while sleet adds a much thinner coating.

You’d be surprised how much a tree limb can weigh when it has one inch thick ice on it.

Our only possible casualty (::knock on wood::) may be the Desert Willow I have in the front yard. According to a horticulturist I spoke to, it’s not supposed to grow in climates like ours, and the only way it survived here was that its first two years had to be really mild. That tree is my favorite thing about the house and is stunning when it blooms, which it does twice a year, but right now, it’s completely weighed down by ice and its top is only two feet off the ground. My only hope is that the ice insulated it enough to let it live.

All in all, this has been a great week for me in spite of the bad weather.  Thanks to a very smart friend, I’ve got some great things brewing on the horizon, and I couldn’t be more energized and excited.  It’s amazing what progress a person can make when they can bounce ideas around with someone with intelligence and imagination.

Now, I’ll leave you with one of my newest favorite songs. It’s a Foo Fighters song called The Pretender and is up for a Grammy this year.  I absolutely love the guitar and bass line, and Dave Grohl’s voice is awesome!  I think it’s rockin’! (It’s not the kind of song you sing; it’s the kind of song you wail, and I’m doing my share of wailing! ;) )

Unfortunately, RCA won’t allow the video to be posted anywhere other than on YouTube, so here’s a link to the video. Awesome song!

Foo Fighters: The Pretender

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