Countdown To The New Year

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It becomes evident fast on the day after Christmas that this year, like every year before her, is indeed going to be ending very soon. Many if y’all will spend the next week trying to figure out what wasn’t done this year, what gets carried over to next year, and what will changes y’all want to make. I don’t fucking do it. What is or isn’t done is done, its too late now, its time to focus on the present. Unfortunately, I watch those around me who make excuses to why they didn’t accomplish a goal the set for themself. Want to know why the goal wasn’t reached? There was never intent, words sound good in the mirror and in front of company but often its just vibrations moving through the air, its just words. Promises are the biggest invented problems that man has created, we cheat ourselves for no purpose, and we hurt those we love because we are selfish.

As we, my wife and I, were playing our fifth game of spades, I listened to a compelling story told by my sister in law, who explained that she will be getting back into church because her youngest daughter (3) has been very fascinated with baby Jesus lately. Therefore, in order to broaden her horizons, she will depend on teaching from a stranger instead of taking responsibility. In the end, we walked away with 5 clean wins at spades. As well, I kept my mouth shut to keep the family peace. There are three things I don’t talk about with friends and family, religion, politics, and football. Because of this I live a peaceful life, because of this I still like my in-laws. I avoid conflicts on purpose because they are battle engagements that I do not deem having a purpose personally.

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Before cards began, before we ate, and before opening presents over there I was approached by my niece (13 1/2 y/o) about helping her create a blog. Her mother chimed in and told me if I was going to help her get started please don’t make it suck like mine does. Can y’all tell, her mother is not a fan yet she tells her daughter to ask me because she doesn’t have a clue. Hell, I don’t have a clue yet and I’ve been up to no good blogging for some time now. In reality, my blog is not a good example, so we explored some of my friend’s blogs which are very impressive. She had a favorite, the blog of a poet, one I share allot of her content here, because that is what my niece is interested in, art and poetry. Fantastic, two things I know very little about. So, we spent time exploring, reading, and having ideas, but no blog was spawned. I was asked, by her mother, not to have a link to her daughters blog on mine as she will not host a link to mine either. Fair enough.

In the end, yesterday reminded me why I don’t dwell in the past or make resolutions for the future, it let’s me live today without being bothered by things I cannot change. What is done is done, it is what it is, the milk has already been spilled so to say. I lead a quiet boring life on purpose, I don’t like other people’s drama, and I refuse to get sucked into someone else’s little slice of hell. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put out an email I got this week from a friend I used to work with, because it shows how one person who is determined to change her life made it happen.

I will leave y’all with a final thought today. If you let people drag you down you can only blame yourself. It is your own responsibility to live your life. Only you have control over your happiness. Only you can be in charge of your life. And only you can be responsible for you.

Twas The Weekend Before Christmas

Over the years we, meaning my wife and I, have found that Christmas shopping, as we know it, is usually done well before black Friday ever arrives. This year, being no different, we (she) was done, but then again, we don’t buy much for too many people, usually just the kids and my granddaughter. So, for fun, keeping with our little “family tradition”, we always go to the Katie Mills Outlet Mall the last weekend before Christmas. Why? If we have no need to go why go, is that what y’all are asking? Its easy, since we don’t have a “need” to be there or go there it makes it “fun” for a people watcher like me. My wife, on the other hand, likes to go be amongst her people, shoppers in a frantic, and just see if there are any five for one specials at Bath & Bodyworks. It also gives us a chance to go into Fredrick’s of Hollywood, since Victoria’s Secret has been sucking hind tit for the last ten years or so, because she loves to buy lingerie even though it ends up on the floor in a heap after five minutes, but it does keep things interesting wondering what she is wearing under her hoodie footies this time of year. Have I ever mentioned we don’t buy each other presents, we never have. But, she always buys some very interesting lingerie and then gives me a fashion show of sorts. Its all good clean fun. Every year, since the beginning, we go out, I give her my ideas, say ten to a dozen, then she buys what she wants, then I’m surprised. The cool thing about the Fredrick’s of Hollywood out there is that it does not make them (employees) uncomfortable when I’m in the changing room, try that at a Victoria’s Secret, it isn’t going to happen.

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So, we unleash our kids on the mall, giving them a rally time, and my wife and I go to all her favorite stores, this is the perfect time to try on clothes, especially because we both know we’re just “window shopping”. We hit about fifteen of the big brand name places, you know the ones, they are jam packed with crazies that are only at number two on their list of many. Its fun to watch the feeding frenzy knowing that we are only really there to run interference and give grief to those ladies trying to just get through one more day. You would think at our age we could find better ways to spend our time or have better things to do, but we don’t, this is what we do for fun, free entertainment is always a great deal in my book. Hell, we even wait in line to see Santa Claus, kidless of course, where we both sit on Santa’s lap at the same time. And, no, we don’t spend the $39.89 for the cheesy picture either. This year I think ol’ Santa was trying to cop a feel on my wife, his hands weren’t always in view, and my wife isn’t talking. Anyway, this year’s wait was only 38 minutes. Again, its just something we do, and we have never been told NO by Santa either. We cannot say the same about the Easter Bunny, this year she was a bitch and told us she didn’t take pictures with adults. She wouldn’t even just let my wife, all 109 lbs of her, sit on her precious lap. Hey, we take it when we can get it. I have always wondered what kind of person wants, therefore makes a choice to do so, to dress up as a seasonal character for the sole purpose of have kids ride your lap. Seems kinda creepy to me, but I’m just saying.

Eventually we wound up at Fredrick’s of Hollywood. I determined this year that their goal was to make slutty lingerie available to everyone, I don’t remember seeing any 5X sizes last year. Which was a bitch this year because we were having a difficult time finding anything in a small/medium. My wife has an issue you see, petite 5’2″ body but 34DDD chest. Yes, I’m lucky, I get that, but it is a pain in the ass as well because sizes which should fit her don’t without blowing the buttons off. Anyway, the shame of what I’m trying to say is it would appear the market for lingerie has changed. No, I don’t have a problem with that fact, but places should remember that there are still some petite women out there in the real world who need to buy clothes for work and play. And no, so just keep your comments to yourself, I don’t have an issue with plus size women, that wasn’t the point I was making, I was merely mentioning that in this store particularly, I have never seen anything above the XL size. So, to sum up, its the same small ass store, but their inventory for people my wife’s size has dropped considerably. Yes, everyone should have the same shopping opportunities when shopping for slutty lingerie, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of reducing the quantity of smaller sizes in all their options. Anyway, I could go on and on and on but there are other things to talk about. I will say one thing about women knowing what size they wear, most of them don’t. How can that be? Why does a person who wears 3X clothing normally think that because its lingerie she could maybe make a medium fit? Yes, I did witness this first hand, because she stepped out of the changing room in the medium to ask her significant other if he thought she needed a large. Guess what his answer was. I don’t know personally, because we were gone shortly afterwards.

We had some jean shopping to go do, yes to actually buy if they had her style and size, again, we have found many places don’t carry size “0” anymore unless you order it online. However, lucky for us we did get instant purchase gratification at her two favorite stores. My wife is simple when it comes to jeans, she wears two brands, one being Guess and the other being Rockies. The hard part for her is picking what color and/or shade that tickles her fancy this year. Lucky for me, she doesn’t mind wearing the tight jeans, nothing against baggie jeans, but her preference is wearing them tight. I tell her either way is fine, I have for years, but in the end she always goes for the tight look because she likes it and she knows I like it as well. The western store has an interesting flow of customers, it goes in every direction. This is where our afternoon got interesting. We had made our way through the herds of people, we made our way through the racks, and we waited in line for her to get a changing room. Fucking place has 25 changing rooms for the women, 8 for the men, out of the 25 changing rooms they were only using 11 for the women and 2 for the men. When her turn came after 28 minutes she begins her ritual, try on a pair, step out to look in the octagonal surround mirrors, come give me a good look, and slink away back into the changing room for the next round, each round takes 7 to 8 minutes for her. On her second trip out she caught this kid, I say kid, early twenties, checking her out, game on, now she turned up the heat, now its time to fuck with the punk. Although she will never admit to doing it, I can see it, I’ve been checking out my wife’s ass for 16 plus years, I know when she is strutting a little harder than normal. About the time he had his tongue down on the carpet I watched his wife/girlfriend/significant other (so hard to tell these days, nobody wears wedding rings anymore) slap him across the face and asked what in the holy fuck did he think he was doing checking someone else out. Ok, sure, there’s some insecurities in that relationship, that’s obvious as hell, but she wants to make a scene.

My wife is cruel to other women, and men alike, she just turned 40 (now I’m probably dead) and works hard to keep her body the way it looks. She made a choice long ago that she wasn’t going to be one of those wives that just say fuck it and not care how she looks. And no, I honestly don’t think its for me, she has been like this before I met her, I do benefit of course, but in my opinion it is her pride that keeps her motivated. She sees people (especially family) and does not want to be those women. I stay out of it, I have no room to say anything, I’m in my mid-40s and haven’t exactly taken the best care of myself. I could do better, but I’ll admit I’m lazy. But, we do walk every night, we do our five miles, of course I do five and hers ends up being like 8 because she laps me so many times. She is one of those women who is proud of the curves she does have and proud as well for the curves she does not. Her downfall, really, if y’all asked me, is the fact that she work in a doctor’s office, she sees so many people with weight related health issues and she has commented to me that she plans on never being one of them. Perhaps she self aware, perhaps its vanity, perhaps its pride driven by the fact that she is a very strong willed/minded individual, perhaps its her stubbornness that drives her not to just age and settle, who knows.

Anyway, back to the mall. When the shopping was done and we continued to meander around, I discovered she had these two, lets call them high school age teenagers, following us around everywhere we went. I would look over and catch them, make eye contact, and they would act like I didn’t know what I was seeing. After confirming this is what was going on I whispered to my wife what I thought was going on. I was not prepared for all hell to break loose, but it did. We were in some store looking at purses for my wife, who wants (not need) a new purse. I find it strange that she wants a new purse every year when the current one is still going strong. I often point out I have been using the same wallet since 1989. Is it beat up? Yes. Is it wore out? Yes. Do I think I need a new one? Hell no. Funny part about that is she bought me one last year, put it in my Christmas stocking, its still in the box in my top dresser drawer. Anyway, she noticed one of these boys with his phone out pretty regularly and always being held in a somewhat discrete fashion. She put two and two together and had an OMGWTF moment, her gut instinct kicked in and she wanted to know why they were taking pictures of her, if that was what she was doing. She quick formulated a plan, we moved on to the shoe store, and she made herself “available” for unobstructed view. While they were distracted I went and stood behind them, and sure enough, they were taking pictures, mostly when she was bending down/over trying to get a tittie shot I guess. I text her to quickly walk towards them so they would be forced to turn around right into me. When the jig was up and they had been cornered my wife layed into them (verbally) in that harsh “motherly quiet tone” of fury women use. I didn’t get to hear all of it, but I know they erased the pictures off their phones with her watching. Sad thing is that the blonde haired boy was so scared of her he pissed his pants a little, his friend was nice enough to point it out as they walked away. When I asked what she said I was told to not worry about it.

That ends up being our holiday story. As uneventful as it was, it is what we do. We like to get out with all the freaks, frantics, and royal fucktards on the final weekend of shopping before Christmas only because we know we don’t “need” to be there, but we like to go out too, why let everyone else have all the shopping nightmare fun.

Suddenlink: Those Evil Fuckers

Suddenlink Complaints Department
1 Shiny Happy Street of Fluff
Fiery Depths of Soulless Hell, TX 66666

Dear Sir, Madam or Other Miscellaneous Corporate Child-eater:

I write today with a great burden upon me, for a mountain of regret threatens to press the very trust in humanity from the depths of my consumer drone lungs. For thou hast slain me – not by any tangible measure but in a way far more malicious … a way that stains my metaphysical blood deep into the scaly flesh of your greed-mangled claws. Oh Captain, my Captain… My King of Kings… Please smite me not, for I present to thee … a complaint to inquire what form of fuckery is going here in your twisted little world.

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“Just sign the contract,” he crooned with great seduction, the brim of his heavenly blue cap perched upon the gnarled horns of a goat-hearted demon-agent of the great Satan himself. Oh, how I should have known.

I remember the day as if it were yesterday: the air thick with potential, honeysuckle and sulfur. He knew exactly where to hit me – knew my softest of soft spots. I fell powerless against the call of the multitude of Discovery channels and History channels I have always loved … drunk on the promise of having it every bit of it, all on-call at the press of a single button. And, oh shit, did you just say the Military channel is included? The palpitations, they did thus commence…

“Just hand me a pen!” I shouted with glee, as he delved deep into his pocket to retrieve a lump of black avarice with which to etch my mark. Oh, how I should have known…

For a time, I must confess, things could not have been grander. For I had entered into a contract with Corporate America for the provision of services… And Corporate America had contracted back. On a day such as this, fortune shone oh so bright.

And then, the skies darkened – metaphorically, of course, for this is still Texas and the welcome relief of cloud cover remains a taunting mistress indeed. Eagerly, I bound before the Altar of Truth, igniting its wisdom in a blaze of electric glory. But where were my favorite channels I have grown so fond of over the past several years?

Needless to say, vexation consumed me as I reached for my phone to call the caring harbingers of customer service. There must be some mistake. For I had contracted with Corporate America… And Corporate America had contracted back.

The gauntlet I faced was cold and lonely, populated with talking heads and mindless mouths, eerily chanting pre-programmed responses to inquiries not yet made. But through toil and diligence, I found my way, sweeping aside a final thicket of thistle to bask in the grandeur that is Caroline (in Billing).

Oh, hello Caroline… I was referred by Mouthbreathing Bob in your scheming sales department of demonic manipulators.

Humility descended upon me with the stifling calm of a warm blanket. I was in Her presence: the presence of Greatness. Caroline had no need to boast of Her own importance, for the brevity of Her tone spoke volumes in Her stead.

“But I have contracted with Corporate America,” I pled before Her almighty gavel of justice, “and Corporate America contracted back.”

“Channel changes happen,” Her heavenly voice rang down.

“Yes,” I cried with futility, “but did I not pay for said service? Have I somehow angered the Altar of Satan the Beast with my most benevolent of intent?”

“Channel changes happen,” She said once again.

“And yet, I pay all the same, sans the services withdrawn?”

“And you shall continue to do so, lest ye wish to face the fiery trials of The Penalty.”

I recoiled in dread. Had my brazen bravado cost me more than I had bargained for? But wait, that which I had bargained for now itself hung in limbo. The shower of confusion intensified…

My beloved was gone, never to return – held captive by a premium of superior rank than the premium with which I had acquired her.

But what of the contract with Corporate America, you likely ask? Needn’t even a Master of the Universe abide by the Cosmic Code of Law and Common Sense? Should not the unilateral rescission of services without recompense of consideration constitute breach and fraud, every bit as much as it would were the tables turned?

Or do you stand by your General, the Almighty Caroline (in Billing), shouting stalwart down the mountainside to we minion in the valley, “Screw you, walking wallets, we’ve already got your money. For you are bound by a contract with Corporate America … and channel changes happen”!

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And there’s not a one single motherfucking thing you can do about it either, so quit your bitching and moaning, and just suck it up princess!

Those Damn Yankee Bastards

In the world of scented candles, the true titan is the Yankee Candle Company, which like Microsoft has a brutal monopoly based around crushing the competition. This heartless mega corporation pumps out assembly line candles of every scent imaginable just because they can, and because consumers don’t know any better. But, even with their godlike might, The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog still managed to find a few scents those Yankee bastards have yet to claim.

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Last Night’s Pizza: The charming confection of perfectly greasy cardboard, deliciously congealed cheese, and a fast-hardening crust fill the home with the sweet nostalgia for when the pizza was fresh.

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Is This Shirt Clean?: The welcoming aroma of mystery — a mix of laundry detergent, lingering deodorant, and a hint of body odor will keep your guests guessing.

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A Festival Of Marijuana: Fun, festive, and fresh marijuana is a tradition for everyone to enjoy.

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Bar: An enchanted blend of beer, dankness, and beer.

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Netflix Binge: Watching something for hours on end springs to life with a light blend of sweat and couch.

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Latex Condom: The crisp, naturally fresh scent of latex recalls the happy memories of sexual intercourse.

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Delivered Food: Capture the delight and warm tradition of food delivered right to your door with this blend of every food smell.

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Facebook Stalking: The invigorating scent of perspiration with a hint of the warm plastic-y smell of a computer overheating fill the air with bitterness and curiosity.

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Sold Out Concert: A sticky blend of sweat, spilled beer, and claustrophobia will transport your guests to a moment in time, being smashed up against many strangers.

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Old Lunch Tupperware: Recapture the magic of yesterday’s lunch — the pure scent of relaxation while you don’t wash the container, with a crisp hint of Legionnaires’ disease.

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Thrift Store Sweater: Jump for joy with the musty aroma of an old sweater someone maybe died in.

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Burning Shit W/Diesel: Those who have been here will never forget this smell. Not to be confused with JP8, this aromatic candle will have you flashing back to the good ol’ days in no time.