November is nearly over, Thanksgiving is next week, my kids report cards are out, and where the hell is my period? It dawned on me while I was brushing my teeth and I started drooling, more than usual, and gagging, that I was late. I instantly felt myself up. Wait, why are my boobs so sore? Shit, they look bigger too. Then, a wave of nausea. All of a sudden I could smell the urine on the back of the toilet seat. I haven't felt this kind of barfy since my pregnancy with my youngest....7 years ago. Panic. I can't be preggers that's ridiculous. I paid good money to have a highly scientific contraption tucked deep in my darkest dungeon. No baby batter was going to reach my oven. So what if it was supposed to come out a year and a half ago, it's still working, my nurse practitioner told me so. After convincing myself I was not pregnant, I went about my day confident that my nipples will never have to suffer the wrath of a teeny-tiny, seemingly innocent suckling baby ...
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Life with Senior Beasts
Whose dumb ass idea was it to domesticate beasts? Sure they are often referred to as pets, furry friends, or even better, "man's best friend", but I call them beasts simply because that is what they are, wild flea bags Oh sure, they can be sorta fun at times, I mean, you do get to think up clever & cutesy names, like Mr. Wiggles, or Peepers. Oh, and dressing them is pretty fun too, especially if you bring them out in public wearing anything remotely human. People eat that shit up. You also get to teach them tricks, which is clearly not for their benefit, let's just call it like it is, unpaid entertainment. Why do we make them perform ridiculous tricks on demand for a measly scrap of food? When was the last time you had to "roll over" for a Cheez-it? Or "speak" for an ABC piece of steak fat? Uh, how about never. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not looking down my nose at pet owners. I am one. My stupid ass ...