Okay, I'm not trying to turn this into a political blog or an "I heart Obama" blog, but I just found out something so incredibly and utterly brain dead that I am forced to put in my two cents.
There are people out there who genuinely have convinced themselves that Sen. Obama is the Anti-Christ.
I am floored. I am never speechless, but I have now come close to it.
If you believe this, please raise your right hand, and state, "I am an ASS CLOWN!" Sorry, Terps, I know this is your word, but nothing else fits.
I want to state, for the record, that I am not:
1. Atheist
2. Ignorant of the Bible
3. Black
4. African-American
5. Muslim
6. A Mason
7. Satanic
8. an Assclown
For the record, I am:
1. Christian. Yes, I know I just called you an Ass Clown. I asked myself what Jesus would do beforehand, and that's what I came up with.
2. White/Caucasian
3. Democrat
4. in possession of a Bible and its contents.
I would like to add that Sen. Obama had a chance just last night to eat my children (post entitled "Yes, I Did!") and did not do so. He did however, express concern for their safety, and asked people to stop pushing forward so as to keep my children from being crushed. Hardly the work of a Satanic Baby-Sacrificer.
Reasons Why Only an Assclown Would Think Obama is the Anti-Christ.
1. Senator Obama isn't named Damien which The Omen clearly states is going to be the Anti-Christ's name.
Okay, that one was just a joke. Here we go:
1. Just because someone has a message of hope doesn't make them evil. Jesus Himself brought a message of hope, or don't you remember that "Gospel" means "Good News"?
2. Alot of people liking someone doesn't make them evil. Even if it's Halle Berry offering to clean up trash for him. It just means that people are being inspired. Has it been so long that you've forgotten what a wonderful feeling that is?
3. If you honestly believe that's he's a Muslim Terrorist, nothing I say will convince you. You're just an idiot. Perhaps someday there will be a cure. In the meantime, go find a freakin' village.
I'm not slamming you for being a Christian. I'm slamming you for being dumb. No, you're not wiser than everyone else. No, you're not being persecuted. Drop the cross, someone needs the wood. YOU ARE JUST STUPID>That's it.
4. A message of unity...also not evil. In fact, the Christian faith itself could not have grown without people of different backgrounds, cultures, and beliefs working together. Or do only white, American, non-Jews(even the Messianic kind), non-Catholics, non-Mormons get to be Christian and talk about their Christian faith? Unity does not equal evil.
5. The last time I checked, taking care of the sick, the poor, the elderly, and ending the influence of big, powerful rich corrupt people were not on Satan's MySpace profile. Highly unlikely the anti-Christ would be all for these things. Yes, I know he's going to fool lots of people, he's going to talk about unity, he's going to rise to power swiftly. (btw, I wonder if Obama thinks his rise to power has been swift. Probably not, would be my guess.)
There are lots of other reasons why you're an assclown, but I don't have time to go into all of them. For those of the scarier ones who aren't just stupid, but violent and psychotic, too, who are talking about a Christian assassination of Senator Obama on their blogs...Both God the Father, and Jesus Christ spoke out against this. Thou shalt not kill. I pray for the safety of all the candidates. - Confusia
Friday, February 29, 2008
Finally...Oh, Wait!
Dear Confusia,
You might recall me telling you about the filmmaking class I have been teaching, yes? Well, thankfully, it ended today. We had all of the girls show their films and then a Q and A afterward. They were oh so very entertaining! Anyway, I was thankful today as I was putting everything away. I was thinking to myself about how we had survived the second worst module in the class when it dawned on me that the Shakespeare unit is next. DAMMIT! The only thing I can imagine worse than teaching 11 year olds to make films is teaching them to put on a play by good ol' Willie. I wonder if I could get away with just showing them Shakespeare in Love everyday?
Terpsichore
(BTW, Joseph Fiennes is HOT!!!!)
You might recall me telling you about the filmmaking class I have been teaching, yes? Well, thankfully, it ended today. We had all of the girls show their films and then a Q and A afterward. They were oh so very entertaining! Anyway, I was thankful today as I was putting everything away. I was thinking to myself about how we had survived the second worst module in the class when it dawned on me that the Shakespeare unit is next. DAMMIT! The only thing I can imagine worse than teaching 11 year olds to make films is teaching them to put on a play by good ol' Willie. I wonder if I could get away with just showing them Shakespeare in Love everyday?
Terpsichore
(BTW, Joseph Fiennes is HOT!!!!)
Yes, I DID! By Confusia
So I took the kids with me to the Convention Center last night to see Senator Obama. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd be shaking hands with him! AWESOME! It was me, the baby, my five year old son, my 12 yo daughter, and one of her friends from school. (Imagine the fun of taking four kids with you to a political rally. No, really IMAGINE it!) We stood in line for awhile, went through the very heavy security (Think Secret Service guys with their suits and earpieces.) and then ended up getting shuffled into the "overflow room". We were told that someone from Obama's campaign would come into the room to speak to everybody, and to walk over to this area where they had a little platform set up with some metal gates around it. So off I went with all my little ducklings to stand dutifully beside the gate. Someone mentioned that Obama himself might come in, and we were excited at that possibility. Well, eight o'clock hits, and in walks Barack Obama, covered in Secret Service guys. He gets up on the platform and says something which I don't hear because the crowd has gone wild, which has caused the baby to start screaming hysterically in my ear. Then, he gets off the platform, and starts walking around the gates shaking hands. The crowd immediately starts pushing forward and screaming. At that point, my son was mashed into the gate, I was trying to lift the baby up a little so that she wouldn't be crushed against me so much. I was also attempting to brace myself for a rumble with the people behind me in order to keep my kids from getting crushed. I looked at the Secret Service guys and said, "My kids are getting squashed!" They're like, "So? Do they have guns? Are they potential assassins? Then we don't care." Then Obama is in front of us, and he goes,"OH, YOU HAVE A BABY! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" I reply, "NO, WE'RE GETTING SQUASHED!" He stands back for a second, raises his voice, and says, "PLEASE DON'T PUSH! THERE'S A BABY UP HERE!" Then he touched the baby's hand (who's still screaming hysterically.", shook hands with my (a little bit flatter than when we arrived) son, my twelve year old, and her friend from school who's snapping cell phone pictures like a tourist. It was a little scary, a lot exciting, and I'm very, very thrilled that my kids and I got to be a part of it.
How amazing to see history come alive, and get to shake hands with the first African-American to run for the office of President of the United States of America. All I could think was, "This is Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream becoming a reality."
How amazing to see history come alive, and get to shake hands with the first African-American to run for the office of President of the United States of America. All I could think was, "This is Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream becoming a reality."
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Hell Hath No Fury
Dear Confusia,
I can't even begin to explain the rage I feel right now. Seriously! I know it's going to seem insane to you when I tell you why I'm so infuriated, but it wouldn't be the first time I have proven my neurosis on this blog, so here goes..
I had some guys (of course they were guys! OF COURSE THEY WERE STUPID, FUCKING GUYS!!!!!) that I know read snatchdotcom and the reviews they gave were as follows:
Douche Bag said, "Well, they are sort of funny. Nothing side hurting or anything, but funny." Really, JERK FACE???? Nothing side hurting? What if I punched you in the kidney? Would that be side hurting? I don't know if it would be side hurting, but I DO know it'd be fuckin' funny!
Assclown said, "taken one at a time they're funny but all together it gets a little boring. i mean, since i know the same person created each one, even though they are all amusing, i just wanted to say, "yeah, now what?" and there wasn't anything else to the site except more of the same...i don't think i'd keep going back for more."
Really, FUCKTARD? Since you KNOW the same person created each one...???? Really? Since you KNOW that? Guess what, Confusia. You and I are know the same person. I know this, because this TOOL KNOWS that the same person created each one.
Anyway, so back to the proof that I am crazy...I am so fucking angry at these two SCROTUM SCABS that I can't even see straight. Also, what they may have forgotten is that I know how to get access to pictures of each of them online...suffice to say that there just might be two new profiles on snatchdotcom very soon!!!
-Terps
You know, I think Regan is right. You did forget to include "douchebag" in the labels list.
Okay, I'm just going to be the voice of reason at this point because let's face it, it's rare that I get to be that. ha ha Not everyone has the same sense of humor, or indeed ANY sense of humor. These guys obviously don't share ours...oh well. I know I'm not going to lose any sleep over it...especially since I'm losing so much to the baby already. I haven't got any more sleep to lose. If I do, I'll just be awake 24/7, and no one wants to see that happen. Here's the deal...Since A. one of them asks, "Yeah, now what?" we need to give him an answer. and B. It's nothing side-hurting funny, anyway...We probably should go ahead and give them a profile. We can try our best to make it as funny as two humorless girls such as ourselves can manage. Perhaps then, they'll see just how hilarious it is. BUT! I think a better solution would just be to go egg their house. What do you say? -Confusia
P.S. Whoops. I forgot that we have a far more powerful weapon at our disposal. Maybe it's time for them to receive a visit from "DaThug."
Also, I want to add after looking at the site again for a second. It definitely is not "seen one, seen 'em all". I mean, each picture is so different! We've got everything from a mime, to a trekkie, to a guy naked from the waist down with his junk covered up by the seven foot long catfish he's squeezing! No two pictures are alike, which means no two profiles are alike. I'm a firm believer in to each his own, but I would have to say that these guys' comments are a little screwy.
I can't even begin to explain the rage I feel right now. Seriously! I know it's going to seem insane to you when I tell you why I'm so infuriated, but it wouldn't be the first time I have proven my neurosis on this blog, so here goes..
I had some guys (of course they were guys! OF COURSE THEY WERE STUPID, FUCKING GUYS!!!!!) that I know read snatchdotcom and the reviews they gave were as follows:
Douche Bag said, "Well, they are sort of funny. Nothing side hurting or anything, but funny." Really, JERK FACE???? Nothing side hurting? What if I punched you in the kidney? Would that be side hurting? I don't know if it would be side hurting, but I DO know it'd be fuckin' funny!
Assclown said, "taken one at a time they're funny but all together it gets a little boring. i mean, since i know the same person created each one, even though they are all amusing, i just wanted to say, "yeah, now what?" and there wasn't anything else to the site except more of the same...i don't think i'd keep going back for more."
Really, FUCKTARD? Since you KNOW the same person created each one...???? Really? Since you KNOW that? Guess what, Confusia. You and I are know the same person. I know this, because this TOOL KNOWS that the same person created each one.
Anyway, so back to the proof that I am crazy...I am so fucking angry at these two SCROTUM SCABS that I can't even see straight. Also, what they may have forgotten is that I know how to get access to pictures of each of them online...suffice to say that there just might be two new profiles on snatchdotcom very soon!!!
-Terps
You know, I think Regan is right. You did forget to include "douchebag" in the labels list.
Okay, I'm just going to be the voice of reason at this point because let's face it, it's rare that I get to be that. ha ha Not everyone has the same sense of humor, or indeed ANY sense of humor. These guys obviously don't share ours...oh well. I know I'm not going to lose any sleep over it...especially since I'm losing so much to the baby already. I haven't got any more sleep to lose. If I do, I'll just be awake 24/7, and no one wants to see that happen. Here's the deal...Since A. one of them asks, "Yeah, now what?" we need to give him an answer. and B. It's nothing side-hurting funny, anyway...We probably should go ahead and give them a profile. We can try our best to make it as funny as two humorless girls such as ourselves can manage. Perhaps then, they'll see just how hilarious it is. BUT! I think a better solution would just be to go egg their house. What do you say? -Confusia
P.S. Whoops. I forgot that we have a far more powerful weapon at our disposal. Maybe it's time for them to receive a visit from "DaThug."
Also, I want to add after looking at the site again for a second. It definitely is not "seen one, seen 'em all". I mean, each picture is so different! We've got everything from a mime, to a trekkie, to a guy naked from the waist down with his junk covered up by the seven foot long catfish he's squeezing! No two pictures are alike, which means no two profiles are alike. I'm a firm believer in to each his own, but I would have to say that these guys' comments are a little screwy.
Yes, We Can!
Dear Terps,
As you know, election year is like my year long Superbowl. I am so hyped because tonight, I'm taking the family out for a little political rally action with my man, Senator Obama. I can't wait to go home, put on my "Impeach Bush Now" t-shirt, make a little t-shirt for the baby that says, "Democrats Do It Better...Here's Proof.", create a few signs for the kids to parade around with, and head up to the Ft. Worth Convention Center to hear Obama speak. Citizenship in action! That's me! What bugs me is that I'd asked permission to take two of the kids from the school who are really excited to see an African American running for President, but I was told I couldn't do it. Due to the dangers of transporting students, putting myself in a situation where I could possible end up being accused of something trashy, etc. It's such a shame that kids and parents who accuse innocent teachers of wrong-doing so they can sue school districts, and pedophile teachers have created an environment of fear that prohibits us from offering fantastic opportunities to kids who will not have these experiences otherwise. I'm really hoping the kids' parents will take them to the rally since I can't. It would be great for these two boys to get inspired to do well in school and stay out of trouble. I'm going to try and get some pictures from the rally for them just in case, and I know I'll still enjoy going. Confusia Jr. is really excited about it. That makes me feel good as a mom. Of course, she may just be thinking, "If I'm at this stupid rally thing, I won't have to stay in my room tonight, so it'll be a day less of being grounded. Score!" Little does she know that her evil mother has already planned on giving her a make-up day of grounding! heh heh heh.
Love, Confusia
As you know, election year is like my year long Superbowl. I am so hyped because tonight, I'm taking the family out for a little political rally action with my man, Senator Obama. I can't wait to go home, put on my "Impeach Bush Now" t-shirt, make a little t-shirt for the baby that says, "Democrats Do It Better...Here's Proof.", create a few signs for the kids to parade around with, and head up to the Ft. Worth Convention Center to hear Obama speak. Citizenship in action! That's me! What bugs me is that I'd asked permission to take two of the kids from the school who are really excited to see an African American running for President, but I was told I couldn't do it. Due to the dangers of transporting students, putting myself in a situation where I could possible end up being accused of something trashy, etc. It's such a shame that kids and parents who accuse innocent teachers of wrong-doing so they can sue school districts, and pedophile teachers have created an environment of fear that prohibits us from offering fantastic opportunities to kids who will not have these experiences otherwise. I'm really hoping the kids' parents will take them to the rally since I can't. It would be great for these two boys to get inspired to do well in school and stay out of trouble. I'm going to try and get some pictures from the rally for them just in case, and I know I'll still enjoy going. Confusia Jr. is really excited about it. That makes me feel good as a mom. Of course, she may just be thinking, "If I'm at this stupid rally thing, I won't have to stay in my room tonight, so it'll be a day less of being grounded. Score!" Little does she know that her evil mother has already planned on giving her a make-up day of grounding! heh heh heh.
Love, Confusia
My Daily Schedule (A and B)
Dear Confusia,
Since you shared with me the misery that is your day, I thought I would share with you the misery that is my day also. It's so sad that my life hasn't panned out to be the rock and roll crash and burn cool fest I thought it would be.
4:48 Hit snooze button exactly three times thereby getting out of bed at precisely 5:15. (Yes, I am anal retentive.)
5:15-5:30 Do all those little things I have to do (like brush teeth and put on clothes) before I can leave the house
5:30 Get in car and drive to gym while listening to motivating music, usually the Pixies
5:45 Arrive at gym and put crap in locker
5:50-7:15 Work out
7:15-7:45 Shower and get ready for work. (Yes, I do this at the gym, despite my terrible OCD)
7:45 Get in car and drive to work while listening to NPR
7:55 Arrive at work, sit in car and collect thoughts, consider going home and going back to bed, walk into school
8:10 Morning duty; this is the time that I stand in the hallway, coffee cup and Luna Bar in hand, nodding at all the students as they come in
8:25 This is the official start of the school day; my advisory class comes in and asks me ridiculous questions like, "Can I call you mom?" and "Why don't you have any kids?"
9:00-10:30 A Days: Planning period (i.e. surf the net) B Days: Humanities Class (teach exciting things such as Shakespeare and art history)
10:35-12:05 A Days: Inclusion support in 6th grade social studies class...honk shoo B Days: Language Arts Learning Lab (i.e. surf the net)
12:10-2:15 A Days: First half of time spent doing Inclusion support in 7th grade math, lunch, then end period doing Inclusion support in 6th grade science B Day: Planning period (see above)
2:20-3:50 A Days: First half of time spent doing Inclusion support in 6th grade math; second half of class spent doing support in 7th grade social studies B Days: first half spent doing Inclusion support in 6th grade science; second half doing support in 7th grade Science
3:50 Thank the powers that be that I survived another one
There are the two days a week that I get to do Homework Help (aka Homework Hell) until 5:30 AND always the Monday afternoon faculty meeting that last until 6:30!
I'm a regular little rock star!
Since you shared with me the misery that is your day, I thought I would share with you the misery that is my day also. It's so sad that my life hasn't panned out to be the rock and roll crash and burn cool fest I thought it would be.
4:48 Hit snooze button exactly three times thereby getting out of bed at precisely 5:15. (Yes, I am anal retentive.)
5:15-5:30 Do all those little things I have to do (like brush teeth and put on clothes) before I can leave the house
5:30 Get in car and drive to gym while listening to motivating music, usually the Pixies
5:45 Arrive at gym and put crap in locker
5:50-7:15 Work out
7:15-7:45 Shower and get ready for work. (Yes, I do this at the gym, despite my terrible OCD)
7:45 Get in car and drive to work while listening to NPR
7:55 Arrive at work, sit in car and collect thoughts, consider going home and going back to bed, walk into school
8:10 Morning duty; this is the time that I stand in the hallway, coffee cup and Luna Bar in hand, nodding at all the students as they come in
8:25 This is the official start of the school day; my advisory class comes in and asks me ridiculous questions like, "Can I call you mom?" and "Why don't you have any kids?"
9:00-10:30 A Days: Planning period (i.e. surf the net) B Days: Humanities Class (teach exciting things such as Shakespeare and art history)
10:35-12:05 A Days: Inclusion support in 6th grade social studies class...honk shoo B Days: Language Arts Learning Lab (i.e. surf the net)
12:10-2:15 A Days: First half of time spent doing Inclusion support in 7th grade math, lunch, then end period doing Inclusion support in 6th grade science B Day: Planning period (see above)
2:20-3:50 A Days: First half of time spent doing Inclusion support in 6th grade math; second half of class spent doing support in 7th grade social studies B Days: first half spent doing Inclusion support in 6th grade science; second half doing support in 7th grade Science
3:50 Thank the powers that be that I survived another one
There are the two days a week that I get to do Homework Help (aka Homework Hell) until 5:30 AND always the Monday afternoon faculty meeting that last until 6:30!
I'm a regular little rock star!
Man, Terps, we're pretty lame. No wonder we have such fantastic fantasy lives!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Snatchdotcom
Please go view. Let me know what you think...
-Terps
For anyone out there who might read this blog, please check out our new "Personals" blog...www.snatchdotcom.blogspot.com
Please enjoy, and let us know what you think! - Confusia
Snatchdotcom...the dating site for "them."
Is it inappropriate for me to say I think it's brilliant?
-Terps
For anyone out there who might read this blog, please check out our new "Personals" blog...www.snatchdotcom.blogspot.com
Please enjoy, and let us know what you think! - Confusia
Snatchdotcom...the dating site for "them."
Is it inappropriate for me to say I think it's brilliant?
My daily schedule by Confusia
Dear Terps,
For your viewing pleasure, I bring you , "My Daily Schedule (with commentary)"
6:30 - 7:00 Press Snooze on the Alarm clock and pretend that I'm actually getting more sleep.
7:00 - 7:30 Wake the kids, make sure they get dressed. This means watching to make sure
Confusia Jr. does not get out the door to 6th grade wearing fishnet stockings on all
four of her limbs, and making sure son has not got pants on backwards.
7:30 - 8:00 Drop baby at babysitter, then listen to other two kids argue endlessly on the way
to their school. Slow to approx. five mph, and push kids out of the car as I near the
Elem. school. Celebrate.
8:00 - 8:15 Drive to work after going through a drive-thru for my daily Diet Coke.
8:15 - 8:30 Check e-mail, go to List of the Day and see what's posted.
8:30 - 9:15 Morning Duty. If weather is cold, have the kids sit in gym while the Before School
Program plays Kickball. Being the In-School Suspension Person, realize that I am
little more than a walking target, and try to avoid getting a kickball in the face. If
weather permits, watch kids outside on playground. The following situations
must be carefully prevented:
A. Juan y Jesus getting into a mucho grande rumble because Juan is wearing the
colors of the Varrio Centro Killers, y Jesus is representing for Sureno 13. I also
must prevent them bursting into song and dance a la West Side Story.
B. Maria slapping Selena in the face because 5 of Maria's cousins told her that
Selena called her a cabrona y a puta.
9:15 - 11:45 Be in classroom. Make kids be quiet and do their school work. Make sure they
have ZERO fun to pay society back for the grievous crimes they have
perpetrated against it. Play on computer.
11:45 - 12:15 Get out of the building and go eat lunch and read somewhere.
12:15 - 4:30 See 9:15 - 11:45
4:30 - 5:00 Think about driving to Vegas, end up driving home after all.
5:00 - 8:00 Work. Hard. Wonder how I got to be so lucky.
8:00 - 8:30 Get kids ready for bed. Get them in bed. Think about becoming a crack addict.
8:30 - 11:00 Listen to my husband ask for a b*** j** for the millionth time (that day).
Consider carefully. Read a book.
11:00 - 1:30 Sleep. So very good. My favorite time of day.
1:30 - 2:00 Up with baby. Try to convince her that she is not supposed to be nocturnal. Fail.
2:00 - 4:30 Sleep. Yes, please, Oh, YES! Oh, GOD! YES!
4:30 - 5:30 Up with baby. Pretend she's Adrien Brody so I can retain some level of feeling
for her.
5:30 - 6:30 Doze lightly with one eye open out of fear the alarm clock is going to go off before
I get any more sleep.
Life is beautiful. Love, Confusia.
For your viewing pleasure, I bring you , "My Daily Schedule (with commentary)"
6:30 - 7:00 Press Snooze on the Alarm clock and pretend that I'm actually getting more sleep.
7:00 - 7:30 Wake the kids, make sure they get dressed. This means watching to make sure
Confusia Jr. does not get out the door to 6th grade wearing fishnet stockings on all
four of her limbs, and making sure son has not got pants on backwards.
7:30 - 8:00 Drop baby at babysitter, then listen to other two kids argue endlessly on the way
to their school. Slow to approx. five mph, and push kids out of the car as I near the
Elem. school. Celebrate.
8:00 - 8:15 Drive to work after going through a drive-thru for my daily Diet Coke.
8:15 - 8:30 Check e-mail, go to List of the Day and see what's posted.
8:30 - 9:15 Morning Duty. If weather is cold, have the kids sit in gym while the Before School
Program plays Kickball. Being the In-School Suspension Person, realize that I am
little more than a walking target, and try to avoid getting a kickball in the face. If
weather permits, watch kids outside on playground. The following situations
must be carefully prevented:
A. Juan y Jesus getting into a mucho grande rumble because Juan is wearing the
colors of the Varrio Centro Killers, y Jesus is representing for Sureno 13. I also
must prevent them bursting into song and dance a la West Side Story.
B. Maria slapping Selena in the face because 5 of Maria's cousins told her that
Selena called her a cabrona y a puta.
9:15 - 11:45 Be in classroom. Make kids be quiet and do their school work. Make sure they
have ZERO fun to pay society back for the grievous crimes they have
perpetrated against it. Play on computer.
11:45 - 12:15 Get out of the building and go eat lunch and read somewhere.
12:15 - 4:30 See 9:15 - 11:45
4:30 - 5:00 Think about driving to Vegas, end up driving home after all.
5:00 - 8:00 Work. Hard. Wonder how I got to be so lucky.
8:00 - 8:30 Get kids ready for bed. Get them in bed. Think about becoming a crack addict.
8:30 - 11:00 Listen to my husband ask for a b*** j** for the millionth time (that day).
Consider carefully. Read a book.
11:00 - 1:30 Sleep. So very good. My favorite time of day.
1:30 - 2:00 Up with baby. Try to convince her that she is not supposed to be nocturnal. Fail.
2:00 - 4:30 Sleep. Yes, please, Oh, YES! Oh, GOD! YES!
4:30 - 5:30 Up with baby. Pretend she's Adrien Brody so I can retain some level of feeling
for her.
5:30 - 6:30 Doze lightly with one eye open out of fear the alarm clock is going to go off before
I get any more sleep.
Life is beautiful. Love, Confusia.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
YOUR MOM!
So, you know how people go to Chinese restaurants and always add "in bed" to the end of the fortune cookie saying? Well, I've noticed among the crew here in A-Town, we've been restating what someone says by adding "Your mom" to the front of the statement. For example, "I left the clothes on the clothesline and now they're all wet and gross." "Your mom's all wet and gross!" You get the idea, yes? Well today I've been giving 6-weeks tests to kids so I've had a lot of free-time (Your mom has a lot of free-time), and I've been mentally adding "Your mom" to things I've heard. Here are some of my favorites (and trust me, they get a lot funnier if you start adding "Your mom" to everything you hear):
Miss, I don't know how to do problem number two.
Your mom doesn't know how to do number two.
I think I lost it in the car. (Referring to an assignment.)
Your mom lost it in the car. (Referring to whatever you might want it to refer to.)
I hope they're serving tacos in the cafeteria today. I love tacos.
Tu madre loves tacos.
Ok, so after doing that all day, now I find myself putting "Your mom" in front of totally benign phrases and getting a chuckle from it.
I'm sleepy.
Your mom's sleepy.
Do you have a pen I can use?
Your mom has a pen you can use.
Anyway, I want you to give it a whirl and let me know if you come up with any gems. It works particularly well in faculty meetings I have found. (i.e. I thought to myself, "Look at that freak with all those earrings.," becomes "Your mom is a freak with lots of earrings." OR "Her mom called and asked me to give her a job," becomes "Your mom called and asked"....oh wait...bad example.)
You know, when I first saw the topic of this post, I thought it was literally going to be about my mom. I seriously thought my mom must have called you to talk about me with you because let's face it, it's happened before. Yesterday afternoon, I got a panicked call from my mom who'd gone to pick up Confusia Jr. for dance lessons only to discover that Jr. wasn't at the house like she was supposed to be. So, I'm going everywhere looking for my dear, little girl while my mom is rattling off in my ear on the cell phone about how she's suspected for quite some time now that Jr. is troubled, and distant, and not herself lately, and must have found some boy and is doing"you know what" blah, blah, blah. Of course, I find Jr. walking along a residential street with a friend, and they've been at another friend's house, and she is grounded now...but not quite so bleak a situation as my mom was painting, right? So I figured my mom must have called you to talk to you about Confusia Jr. and if you can please talk to me about it and get me to see that something's going on, and blah, blah, blah...GEEZ! Don't scare me like that! Because you know that's something my mom would do, right? Just before she steals my car! ha ha
Miss, I don't know how to do problem number two.
Your mom doesn't know how to do number two.
I think I lost it in the car. (Referring to an assignment.)
Your mom lost it in the car. (Referring to whatever you might want it to refer to.)
I hope they're serving tacos in the cafeteria today. I love tacos.
Tu madre loves tacos.
Ok, so after doing that all day, now I find myself putting "Your mom" in front of totally benign phrases and getting a chuckle from it.
I'm sleepy.
Your mom's sleepy.
Do you have a pen I can use?
Your mom has a pen you can use.
Anyway, I want you to give it a whirl and let me know if you come up with any gems. It works particularly well in faculty meetings I have found. (i.e. I thought to myself, "Look at that freak with all those earrings.," becomes "Your mom is a freak with lots of earrings." OR "Her mom called and asked me to give her a job," becomes "Your mom called and asked"....oh wait...bad example.)
You know, when I first saw the topic of this post, I thought it was literally going to be about my mom. I seriously thought my mom must have called you to talk about me with you because let's face it, it's happened before. Yesterday afternoon, I got a panicked call from my mom who'd gone to pick up Confusia Jr. for dance lessons only to discover that Jr. wasn't at the house like she was supposed to be. So, I'm going everywhere looking for my dear, little girl while my mom is rattling off in my ear on the cell phone about how she's suspected for quite some time now that Jr. is troubled, and distant, and not herself lately, and must have found some boy and is doing"you know what" blah, blah, blah. Of course, I find Jr. walking along a residential street with a friend, and they've been at another friend's house, and she is grounded now...but not quite so bleak a situation as my mom was painting, right? So I figured my mom must have called you to talk to you about Confusia Jr. and if you can please talk to me about it and get me to see that something's going on, and blah, blah, blah...GEEZ! Don't scare me like that! Because you know that's something my mom would do, right? Just before she steals my car! ha ha
Why Did God Invent Children? (To give us something to laugh at?)
I just went to pick up my charming little In-House Suspension kids from lunch. I walked in while the Principal was giving the entire A lunch a rousing lecture. He said, "From now on, you may only wear white undershirts. No more colors. AT ALL. White only. No exceptions. No logos, no colors. White." He then asked if anyone had any questions about that. A girl raised her hand. He said, "Yes?"
She said, "Can we wear black ones?" So, can they?
"Garcon? A round of Jagermeister for me and my friends, please." - Confusia
She said, "Can we wear black ones?" So, can they?
"Garcon? A round of Jagermeister for me and my friends, please." - Confusia
Professional Development for Dummies
Confusia responds in Obnoxious (and bold ) Orange
Sorry I wasn't in touch yesterday, but we had professional development, and therefore, I didn't have near the amount of time that I usually do to jabberjaw (via online typing) with you. Jabberjaw. That's a fun word. Say it out loud a few times. I guarantee it'll make you smile.
So speaking of yesterday, I must tell you about what my OCD (RIP, Rainman) caused me to do. There is, however, some build up to it in order for you to get the full story. Two weeks ago today, I started a new leg workout at the gym. My leg workout is called "Racing the kids up to the cookie jar for the last cookie."Well, by about 10 that morning, I had developed bruises on my shoulders from where the pressure from the bar had been too much for me. As luck would have it, Atlas just happened to send me a "So, how have you been" text that morning. Well being as he is a little into working out (Loved the 'roids poster from yesterday btw) and fancies himself a doctor, I thought I'd ask him how he thought I might prevent future bruising. (And yes, I'm aware that not using that particular machine would be the best bet, but that workout was OH SO GOOD!) In the words of our dear, little student, "You ain't right."
Anyway, Atlas informs me that he thinks I might bruise too easily Remember when you bruised your hand by clapping too hard? Meanwhile, I have to cut off my own head to get a bruise. and asked if I'd ever had my platelet count checked. Of course I haven't had my platelet count checked, so I immediately decide (thanks for the OCD, God) that I have low platelet count and start researching on the Web ALL the signs, symptoms, and causes of low platelet counts.This is why we're friends. I went to bed last night, and was disturbed by the sound of the gale force winds blowing outside. I immediately began to plan for a full-scale evacuation in the event of a Level 5 Tornado. I was only able to fall asleep after deciding that I would put a chain in the crawl space so that I could chain the children to the cement blocks in order to anchor them to the ground while the house got sucked up into the funnel cloud. If there had been a tornado last night, we all would have been screwed simply because there was not yet a chain in place. Last night, the plan would have been for me to stick all the kids underneath me, while I held firmly to the concrete blocks. Why am I this neurotic? I take medicine for this shit. So immediately I find that I have EVERY possible symptom of low platelet count, now I must determine why my platelet count is low (this is a random thought...maybe I should start a band called Counting Platelets???) Anyway, some possible reasons for low counts include: leukemia, vitamin B12 deficiency, and HIV (among other things I'm sure.) Anyway, so of course I immediately decide that I have HIV. I have, at various times, diagnosed myself with cancer, pleurisy, blood clots, HIV, AND leprosy. Not to mention the infamous Ass Polyps. Confusia and the Ass Polyps will be the name of my new band.By the end of that day, I'm worked up into such a state of hysteria that I am trying to find an HIV support group and group home I can move into. I'm looking into HMO privacy laws to determine whether or not I'll be fired for having HIV, etc. (You get the picture, and if you don't, imagine me thinking I'm pregnant but on steroids...) But then I find myself in this weird predicament: unlike the pregnancy fears that make me take pregnancy tests on a bi-weekly basis [even during times of celibacy], I'm afriad to take an HIV test because I honestly don't know what I'll do if it turns out positive. So, for two weeks I haven't been able to sleep well, I've spent hours researching HIV and low platelet counts, etc. I have been a wreck. So, finally, yesterday I went to the local Planned Parenthood and just had the WHOLE battery of STD screenings done. You naughty little tramp, you. ha ha I even paid the extra $15 to get the Rapid HIV Screening done so that I could know before I left the clinic. Meanwhile, as I'm waiting for the HIV test results, I decided that if I didn't have HIV I would donate an additional $100 to Planned Parenthood for making me the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. So, thankfully, I walked out with $100 less dollars in my pocket, but damn if I've ever been happier. So there you have my eventful Monday. Now, this is just an idea, but maybe you should check out the less dramatic, but more realistic probability that you are Vitamin B12 deficient. May I recommend a large, healthy dose of spinach for fixing this problem? Funny you should mention that, I actually did toy around with the Vitamin B12 thing and this is what I found out: The only reliable unfortified sources of vitamin B12 are meat, dairy products and eggs. So being a vegan, of course this is my problem. However, a Vitamin B12 deficiency wasn't going to cause me to lose sleep. Therefore, it was easily dismissed. However, your spinach suggestion won't work. B12 only comes naturally from animal products. I guess I need to figure out how to deal with that. However, I am reminded now of something I saw in Yahoo! 60 Minutes Report.
Turns out that some people (sociologist I would guess) did a study to find the happiest people in the world. Turns out that those people are the fine residents of Denmark. Anyway, they were interviewing these Danes. When asked, "Are Danes the happiest people on Earth?" one of the guys answered, "We might not be the happiest people on Earth, but we are the most content." So the interviewer asked him to elaborate on that and basically what the guy said was that the Danish people always expect the worst, that way if they fail or if something awful happens to them, it isn't shocking. You know, I do this, too, but with me, instead of causing contentedness, it causes anxiety disorder. What's up with that?? On the other side of that, if something great happens they weren't expecting it and so they are extremely happy about it. Perhaps this is where I differ from the Danes. I just think, "Oh my God, how long will this last? Will this last? What if it doesn't last? What should I do when the crazy gunman bursts in here and takes all this greatness away?? Dear Lord, I think I found my people! That's pretty much how I felt about my HIV test yesterday. I was expecting the worst possible results and when I didn't get them, I was elated. I was giddy with glee!
So, that's all I have for you. Actually, that's not true. I was thinking today, when I was reading your last post, that I think that even the font on our posts says something about our personalities. You always seem to type in bold and tend to throw in lots of colors. I, on the other hand, tend to use regular type and one color. I'm not saying you're loud and abbrasive or anything, but... I do think this is an interesting little tidbit. I'm such a weirdo about words. More neurotic tendencies perhaps. When I feel like highlighting a word, I think, "Does this word seem more like a blue word or a red word? Is it a pink word?" The bold isn't so much because I'm loud and abrasive, as it is because I'm nearsighted as a damn bat, and I can read the bold print better. ha ha Bifocals, anyone??
:)
-Terps
Oh and, I was looking at the Busted Tees site and saw a shirt that made me think of you.
I imagine this will be how I do end up. Strangely, I can also imagine it being while traveling the country in a covered wagon. -Confusia
Sorry I wasn't in touch yesterday, but we had professional development, and therefore, I didn't have near the amount of time that I usually do to jabberjaw (via online typing) with you. Jabberjaw. That's a fun word. Say it out loud a few times. I guarantee it'll make you smile.
So speaking of yesterday, I must tell you about what my OCD (RIP, Rainman) caused me to do. There is, however, some build up to it in order for you to get the full story. Two weeks ago today, I started a new leg workout at the gym. My leg workout is called "Racing the kids up to the cookie jar for the last cookie."Well, by about 10 that morning, I had developed bruises on my shoulders from where the pressure from the bar had been too much for me. As luck would have it, Atlas just happened to send me a "So, how have you been" text that morning. Well being as he is a little into working out (Loved the 'roids poster from yesterday btw) and fancies himself a doctor, I thought I'd ask him how he thought I might prevent future bruising. (And yes, I'm aware that not using that particular machine would be the best bet, but that workout was OH SO GOOD!) In the words of our dear, little student, "You ain't right."
Anyway, Atlas informs me that he thinks I might bruise too easily Remember when you bruised your hand by clapping too hard? Meanwhile, I have to cut off my own head to get a bruise. and asked if I'd ever had my platelet count checked. Of course I haven't had my platelet count checked, so I immediately decide (thanks for the OCD, God) that I have low platelet count and start researching on the Web ALL the signs, symptoms, and causes of low platelet counts.This is why we're friends. I went to bed last night, and was disturbed by the sound of the gale force winds blowing outside. I immediately began to plan for a full-scale evacuation in the event of a Level 5 Tornado. I was only able to fall asleep after deciding that I would put a chain in the crawl space so that I could chain the children to the cement blocks in order to anchor them to the ground while the house got sucked up into the funnel cloud. If there had been a tornado last night, we all would have been screwed simply because there was not yet a chain in place. Last night, the plan would have been for me to stick all the kids underneath me, while I held firmly to the concrete blocks. Why am I this neurotic? I take medicine for this shit. So immediately I find that I have EVERY possible symptom of low platelet count, now I must determine why my platelet count is low (this is a random thought...maybe I should start a band called Counting Platelets???) Anyway, some possible reasons for low counts include: leukemia, vitamin B12 deficiency, and HIV (among other things I'm sure.) Anyway, so of course I immediately decide that I have HIV. I have, at various times, diagnosed myself with cancer, pleurisy, blood clots, HIV, AND leprosy. Not to mention the infamous Ass Polyps. Confusia and the Ass Polyps will be the name of my new band.By the end of that day, I'm worked up into such a state of hysteria that I am trying to find an HIV support group and group home I can move into. I'm looking into HMO privacy laws to determine whether or not I'll be fired for having HIV, etc. (You get the picture, and if you don't, imagine me thinking I'm pregnant but on steroids...) But then I find myself in this weird predicament: unlike the pregnancy fears that make me take pregnancy tests on a bi-weekly basis [even during times of celibacy], I'm afriad to take an HIV test because I honestly don't know what I'll do if it turns out positive. So, for two weeks I haven't been able to sleep well, I've spent hours researching HIV and low platelet counts, etc. I have been a wreck. So, finally, yesterday I went to the local Planned Parenthood and just had the WHOLE battery of STD screenings done. You naughty little tramp, you. ha ha I even paid the extra $15 to get the Rapid HIV Screening done so that I could know before I left the clinic. Meanwhile, as I'm waiting for the HIV test results, I decided that if I didn't have HIV I would donate an additional $100 to Planned Parenthood for making me the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. So, thankfully, I walked out with $100 less dollars in my pocket, but damn if I've ever been happier. So there you have my eventful Monday. Now, this is just an idea, but maybe you should check out the less dramatic, but more realistic probability that you are Vitamin B12 deficient. May I recommend a large, healthy dose of spinach for fixing this problem? Funny you should mention that, I actually did toy around with the Vitamin B12 thing and this is what I found out: The only reliable unfortified sources of vitamin B12 are meat, dairy products and eggs. So being a vegan, of course this is my problem. However, a Vitamin B12 deficiency wasn't going to cause me to lose sleep. Therefore, it was easily dismissed. However, your spinach suggestion won't work. B12 only comes naturally from animal products. I guess I need to figure out how to deal with that. However, I am reminded now of something I saw in Yahoo! 60 Minutes Report.
Turns out that some people (sociologist I would guess) did a study to find the happiest people in the world. Turns out that those people are the fine residents of Denmark. Anyway, they were interviewing these Danes. When asked, "Are Danes the happiest people on Earth?" one of the guys answered, "We might not be the happiest people on Earth, but we are the most content." So the interviewer asked him to elaborate on that and basically what the guy said was that the Danish people always expect the worst, that way if they fail or if something awful happens to them, it isn't shocking. You know, I do this, too, but with me, instead of causing contentedness, it causes anxiety disorder. What's up with that?? On the other side of that, if something great happens they weren't expecting it and so they are extremely happy about it. Perhaps this is where I differ from the Danes. I just think, "Oh my God, how long will this last? Will this last? What if it doesn't last? What should I do when the crazy gunman bursts in here and takes all this greatness away?? Dear Lord, I think I found my people! That's pretty much how I felt about my HIV test yesterday. I was expecting the worst possible results and when I didn't get them, I was elated. I was giddy with glee!
So, that's all I have for you. Actually, that's not true. I was thinking today, when I was reading your last post, that I think that even the font on our posts says something about our personalities. You always seem to type in bold and tend to throw in lots of colors. I, on the other hand, tend to use regular type and one color. I'm not saying you're loud and abbrasive or anything, but... I do think this is an interesting little tidbit. I'm such a weirdo about words. More neurotic tendencies perhaps. When I feel like highlighting a word, I think, "Does this word seem more like a blue word or a red word? Is it a pink word?" The bold isn't so much because I'm loud and abrasive, as it is because I'm nearsighted as a damn bat, and I can read the bold print better. ha ha Bifocals, anyone??
:)
-Terps
Oh and, I was looking at the Busted Tees site and saw a shirt that made me think of you.
I imagine this will be how I do end up. Strangely, I can also imagine it being while traveling the country in a covered wagon. -ConfusiaMonday, February 25, 2008
Ode to RainMan
Dear Terps,
Do you have any idea why my life is the way it is? I've been pondering this. I'm sure it's my fault/responsibility, but why can't all my mistakes be consequence free? Is that so much to ask?
I spent the weekend mainly by myslef. (I love it when I have a typo on this word...MYSLEF. It's such a great word. I also love a typo on the word student...= STUDNET.) Just the baby and me. Mr. Confusia packed his bag Saturday and left for the fishing hole. I wasn't sure if he was going to come back or not, but he did. He brought with him two small largemouth Bass. I think I'm the only person anywhere who has a 46 gallon aquarium in the living room full of minnows, and two Bass. Some people prefer goldfish or tetras. I've got a mini lake. What the ? The minnows are not happy about the Bass additions. They were already schooling, but now they're completely obsessive about it. Who could blame them? One of the bass sucked up a minnow faster than the speed of light last night. The other minnows were looking at each other, going, "Holy Shit! Did you see that? Did you see what that thing did to Dave??" I think one of them had a heart attack last night because when I woke up this morning, one of them was belly up. Meanwhile, the bass are trying to jump out of the aquarium. They're only about 6 or seven inches long, and it's a big aquarium, but their whole world is messed up. One of them, apart from sucking up minnows, looks out of the aquarium at my bookshelf. I'm afraid when I get home, he'll be sitting on the couch with a pair of glasses on, reading Harry Potter. Then again, he also looked very interested in Lord of the Rings, so we'll see which one he decides to go with. All in all, it makes me glad that the goldfish died before becoming bass food. Our biggest goldfish, Rainman, died just last week. We called him Rainman due to his OCD habit of swimming up one corner, down the other, then zooming to the other side of the tank, and back again. He did this endlessly. Mr. Confusia would say, "There are definitely, def...definitely four corners." RIP Rainman.
I also did a crap load of housecleaning this week. Nothing says "Awesome Weekend." like 8 loads of laundry, and mopping the kitchen floor. I did get a new pair of jeans that fit so well. That's exciting. I also started re-reading The World According to Garp. Excellent novel. The characters in that book are outstanding.
I've got a kid-free day today. Thank you. I'm so happy. I'm also happy because I had angel hair pasta with alfredo sauce with grilled spinach and mushrooms yesterday. So very, very good. I'm going to start a new blog all about my unnatural love for spinach. I shall call it, "Et tu, Popeye?" The End. Love, Confusia
Do you have any idea why my life is the way it is? I've been pondering this. I'm sure it's my fault/responsibility, but why can't all my mistakes be consequence free? Is that so much to ask?
I spent the weekend mainly by myslef. (I love it when I have a typo on this word...MYSLEF. It's such a great word. I also love a typo on the word student...= STUDNET.) Just the baby and me. Mr. Confusia packed his bag Saturday and left for the fishing hole. I wasn't sure if he was going to come back or not, but he did. He brought with him two small largemouth Bass. I think I'm the only person anywhere who has a 46 gallon aquarium in the living room full of minnows, and two Bass. Some people prefer goldfish or tetras. I've got a mini lake. What the ? The minnows are not happy about the Bass additions. They were already schooling, but now they're completely obsessive about it. Who could blame them? One of the bass sucked up a minnow faster than the speed of light last night. The other minnows were looking at each other, going, "Holy Shit! Did you see that? Did you see what that thing did to Dave??" I think one of them had a heart attack last night because when I woke up this morning, one of them was belly up. Meanwhile, the bass are trying to jump out of the aquarium. They're only about 6 or seven inches long, and it's a big aquarium, but their whole world is messed up. One of them, apart from sucking up minnows, looks out of the aquarium at my bookshelf. I'm afraid when I get home, he'll be sitting on the couch with a pair of glasses on, reading Harry Potter. Then again, he also looked very interested in Lord of the Rings, so we'll see which one he decides to go with. All in all, it makes me glad that the goldfish died before becoming bass food. Our biggest goldfish, Rainman, died just last week. We called him Rainman due to his OCD habit of swimming up one corner, down the other, then zooming to the other side of the tank, and back again. He did this endlessly. Mr. Confusia would say, "There are definitely, def...definitely four corners." RIP Rainman.
I also did a crap load of housecleaning this week. Nothing says "Awesome Weekend." like 8 loads of laundry, and mopping the kitchen floor. I did get a new pair of jeans that fit so well. That's exciting. I also started re-reading The World According to Garp. Excellent novel. The characters in that book are outstanding.
I've got a kid-free day today. Thank you. I'm so happy. I'm also happy because I had angel hair pasta with alfredo sauce with grilled spinach and mushrooms yesterday. So very, very good. I'm going to start a new blog all about my unnatural love for spinach. I shall call it, "Et tu, Popeye?" The End. Love, Confusia
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Why My Day Sucks...by Confusia
Hey Terps,
I wanted to ask you if your day was as crappy as my day. Do you remember one day last year when I gave you the run-down on the kids I had in In-House that day? Well, it's that time again. Here's what I'm lookin' at:
1. Student shaved portion of his eyebrow to show gang affiliation. I've got this kid for three days.
2. Student had gang signs written on her binder.
3. Student is an annoying little f******, and is in here, I'm pretty sure, on general principle.
4. A rag-tag assortment of other kids...dress code violators, gum chewers, detention skippers...all of them OFFENDERS! ha ha
These kids are having to sharpen their pencils every five seconds, I swear! Which is really stupid considering they sure as Hell don't seem to be using them!
I spoke with them a bit about gangs, etc. but what it all ended up boiling down to is this...It's The Man's fault.
Aren't you glad I found that out?
Our blog...contributing to the end of racial hostilities. I'm very proud.
Confusia,
I suggest investing in numbers 6 and 9 from the list below.
Terps
I wanted to ask you if your day was as crappy as my day. Do you remember one day last year when I gave you the run-down on the kids I had in In-House that day? Well, it's that time again. Here's what I'm lookin' at:
1. Student shaved portion of his eyebrow to show gang affiliation. I've got this kid for three days.
2. Student had gang signs written on her binder.
3. Student is an annoying little f******, and is in here, I'm pretty sure, on general principle.
4. A rag-tag assortment of other kids...dress code violators, gum chewers, detention skippers...all of them OFFENDERS! ha ha
These kids are having to sharpen their pencils every five seconds, I swear! Which is really stupid considering they sure as Hell don't seem to be using them!
I spoke with them a bit about gangs, etc. but what it all ended up boiling down to is this...It's The Man's fault.
Aren't you glad I found that out?
Our blog...contributing to the end of racial hostilities. I'm very proud.
Confusia,
I suggest investing in numbers 6 and 9 from the list below.
Terps
Things That Make Us Happy.
Dear Terps,
I wanted to take a moment to celebrate the finer things in life this morning. Like we're doing with the "Things We Want to See Before We Die", I wanted to do a "Things That Make Us Happy." Post. This is in honor of my new stapler. I shall begin.
1. Pizza
2. Puppy Breath
3. Great finds like this on List of the Day.
4. Cheese
5. Harry Potter
6. Captain Morgan
7. Exotic Swimming Pools
8. Pizza
9. Tito's and tonic with a lemon NOT a lime
10. Avocado
11. Counting Crows songs (which often make me happy in a sad kind of way...)
12. Saturdays and Sundays
13. Finding creative ways to drop the F-Bomb!
Monday, February 18, 2008
When Confusia Met Terpsichore...Continued
Part Two: Birth of the Beastlie Girls
One day, while driving around somewhere after we got off work, Terps and I were throwing down some free-style rhymes. I have no idea why. We're just easily entertained. These were really, really bad rhymes, but we were laughing hysterically anyway. We started joking about having our own rap group. Little did I know what it would become.
Terps and her roommate were heading off to New Orleans that weekend while I was having to stay at home due to lack of funds. The next Monday at work, Terps informed me that we had formed a group. We were the Beastlie Girls. She was going to be Big D (in honor of Mike D) Her roommate would be PsycHo Ray (like MCA), and I would be the Queen Sex Rock,(in honor of King Ad Rock) Lucky me.
We began our careers as rap superstars which we continue to be to this day.
It's hard work, being rap goddesses. See, what we do is, we take BEastie Boys songs, we figure out who does what part, and then we rewrite them. Some people might use the word, "Steal." Through the years, we've come up with some great songs, though. Here's a partial list:
Alive........becomes..............Supersize
Sure Shot........becomes............Tator Tot
Body Movin'.........................Naughty Groovin'
These lines from "Tator Tot" are some of my favorite:
Well, I got a growl in my tummy, and just one thing can fix it.
Take some cheese and ketchup, it's okay if ya mix it.
I just wanna taste, taste, taste, taste, taste.
No time to step back, no feedin' time to waste.
From "Naughty Groovin'"
The sound of our music puttin' you in pain,
Can't explain a thing, except we're insane.
And like a bottle of Natural Light, that crap,
That spews from your lips when we start to rap.
We need Body rockin, not rejection.
We got lots of action in our back sections.
See what I mean? Genius.
So anyway, we put together a website, and we even performed on Toulane University's radio station. The DJ was in love with Terpsichore, and so we pimped her out to get that spot. Way to take one for the team, Terps!
Anyway, our Beastlie Girl exploits have become the stuff of legend. We're not sure why. All we know is that whenever we do this act at any karaoke place anywhere, it brings the house down. It could be my instinctive understanding of the hip-hop genre, and outstanding talent for riding a flow, or it could be what one Beastlie Girls audience member calls Terpsichore's "hot stripper moves". I don't know.
The BEastlie Girls Project took us through the New Orleans years, and these were wild years! Terps and I really bonded through this time because we worked alot together rewriting Beastie Boys songs. I think this is when we began to realize that we are two sides of the creative coin. In the words of Mike D, "We got a million ideas that we ain't even rocked yet!" I'm not saying that these are good ideas, or that the world shouldn't be really afraid. I'm just saying we've got alot of them.
One day, while driving around somewhere after we got off work, Terps and I were throwing down some free-style rhymes. I have no idea why. We're just easily entertained. These were really, really bad rhymes, but we were laughing hysterically anyway. We started joking about having our own rap group. Little did I know what it would become.
Terps and her roommate were heading off to New Orleans that weekend while I was having to stay at home due to lack of funds. The next Monday at work, Terps informed me that we had formed a group. We were the Beastlie Girls. She was going to be Big D (in honor of Mike D) Her roommate would be PsycHo Ray (like MCA), and I would be the Queen Sex Rock,(in honor of King Ad Rock) Lucky me.
We began our careers as rap superstars which we continue to be to this day.
It's hard work, being rap goddesses. See, what we do is, we take BEastie Boys songs, we figure out who does what part, and then we rewrite them. Some people might use the word, "Steal." Through the years, we've come up with some great songs, though. Here's a partial list:
Alive........becomes..............Supersize
Sure Shot........becomes............Tator Tot
Body Movin'.........................Naughty Groovin'
These lines from "Tator Tot" are some of my favorite:
Well, I got a growl in my tummy, and just one thing can fix it.
Take some cheese and ketchup, it's okay if ya mix it.
I just wanna taste, taste, taste, taste, taste.
No time to step back, no feedin' time to waste.
From "Naughty Groovin'"
The sound of our music puttin' you in pain,
Can't explain a thing, except we're insane.
And like a bottle of Natural Light, that crap,
That spews from your lips when we start to rap.
We need Body rockin, not rejection.
We got lots of action in our back sections.
See what I mean? Genius.
So anyway, we put together a website, and we even performed on Toulane University's radio station. The DJ was in love with Terpsichore, and so we pimped her out to get that spot. Way to take one for the team, Terps!
Anyway, our Beastlie Girl exploits have become the stuff of legend. We're not sure why. All we know is that whenever we do this act at any karaoke place anywhere, it brings the house down. It could be my instinctive understanding of the hip-hop genre, and outstanding talent for riding a flow, or it could be what one Beastlie Girls audience member calls Terpsichore's "hot stripper moves". I don't know.
The BEastlie Girls Project took us through the New Orleans years, and these were wild years! Terps and I really bonded through this time because we worked alot together rewriting Beastie Boys songs. I think this is when we began to realize that we are two sides of the creative coin. In the words of Mike D, "We got a million ideas that we ain't even rocked yet!" I'm not saying that these are good ideas, or that the world shouldn't be really afraid. I'm just saying we've got alot of them.
Friday, February 15, 2008
When Terpsichore Met Confusia
How Terpsichore Came Into My Life by Confusia (With additional commentary by Terpsichore) More in Pink by Confusia
Back in August of '99, I accepted, against my better judgement, the position of Teacher's Assistant in what was referred to as an R-3 Classroom. R-3 meant "Emotionally Disturbed". I was told the kids would be between the ages of 5 and 10 basically, but I would be assisting the teacher working with the younger students. The teacher invited me over to her house one day to have a meeting with her and the woman they'd just hired to teach (you of course use the word "teach" very loosely...) the older ED kids. That's where I beheld Terps for the first time. We were the "new ones" (read "idiots"). I was the assistant in one room, she was the teacher in the room next door. God, we were so innocent (read "stupid").
As a side note, my first impressions of Terps were the following:
1. Smoker (But I'm not a smoker???)
2. A Little Reserved (That's what they say at karaoke...) Not.
3. Not "normal" for a teacher. By that, I mean you weren't wearing a sweater with apples and chalkboards on it.
At the first faculty meeting of the year, the Principal (Bitch) introduced both of us to the faculty. Here's how that went...(alright, I'm going to exaggerate just a little but not nearly enough, sadly.)
"I got a letter from Ms. Confusia's mother, who I used to work with, and she asked me if I had any openings because she had a daughter who was an out-of-work bum, or well, a waitress. She begged and pleaded with me to hire her loser kid, and so I took pity on her. Everybody welcome Ms. Confusia." That was a bit uncomfortable.
"Our other new teacher this year is Ms. Terpsichore. When I first saw her with all those earrings, I thought to myself, 'My God, what a FREAK!', but she did have good references, and God knew I wasn't going to be able to find anyone else to take this shit job, so here she is." I remember it being far more negative than that. It was more like, "Fellow educators, try not to gasp audibly when we unveil her. Her hearing is quite good, and she can be very sensitive," Mrs. Bitch said as the cut the ropes which held the shroud around the cage. "I am not an animal," I said in defense.
When the school year began, we both quickly realized what we were up against. Our first rude awakening occured at "Crisis Prevention and Intervention" training. This is a two day long affaire where they teach you everything from how to talk a kid down from a crisis, to taking him down...as in, on the floor. We learned how to "defend" ourselves against chokeholds, kicks, punches, slaps, and the Whirling Star of Death Ninja Attack. Nothing brings you closer to someone than putting each other in physical restraints, you know what I mean? (And some of us are just too elusive, eh? Hey, btw, do you know what I remember most about that class? I remember when you had to act like a little child stabbing yourself with a pair of scissors. Had I known what we'd be up against in the coming months, I would have let you do it.)
We were prepared...we thought.
Ah, the cast of characters that were the students we enjoyed that year. Here's a quick rundown of the more memorable ones:
Student A: Future Jeffrey Dahmer. We took an unidentifiable bone off of him one day. He yelled, "THAT'S PART OF MY COLLECTION!!!"
Student B: The most astute judge of character you've ever met. If this kid looked at anyone and said, "He/She ain't right." You could put money on it. Sometimes, we would be particularly frustrated with one of the other kids, and this kid would say the things we wanted to say, but couldn't. He'd get a soft pat on the back and a "Now, _______, that's not very nice." I loved that kid.
Famous Quotes: "HEY! HE left his PEE RAG in here! YOU'RE A STUPID PEE BOY WITH YOUR PEE RAG!"
"I don't like that Frizzy haired lady!"
Student C: This kid put three of the four of us in the Emergency Room that year. I think he got suspended for one day.
STudent D: This kid would lie on the floor and scream all day. It sounded like the Tyrannosaurus Rex in Jurassic Park, I kid you not. This kid sucked, and I still don't like him eight years later.
Of course, we had several other assorted kids...runners, poop throwers, that girl from the Exorcist... (My therapist says I'm not allowed to talk about them anymore.)
Every day, we suffered various injuries as we had kids pretty much just beating the shit out of us. We learned that Crisis Prevention was basically a load of crap. It was Open Season in there, and we were the prey. We had kids spit in our faces, headbutt us, kick us, bite us, drag us down hallways, punch us...Even better were the creative names we were called. We determined about midway through the year that the kids had preferred names for us. I was "Motherfucker." Terps was "C***sucker." How did they know? ha ha(I know this comment will be met with severe retribution. I still couldn't resist.) That you fuck your mom? I always wondered how they knew that too...
Very early in the year we took a trip with Terpsichore's roommate to New Orleans. I'd mentioned to Terps that I'd always wanted to go, so we arranged a weekend trip for my 27th birthday. Funnily enough, my birthday (September 25th, cash is fine.) fell during Gay Pride Week so there were even more sights to see than usual.
My first day there we caught the Gay Pride parade that came by our lodgings on Rue St. Anne. Terps was a real hit with the "Dykes on Bikes" Their name for themselves, BTW. Not our name for them.(Wow. I can't believe you brought that up here...)krewe. My "special friends" would meet up with me later that evening.
I'll let Terpsichore carry on a bit from here.
To be honest, Confusia, I don't know if it's because we went there so many times, or that I would later move there, or if I just drank too much, but I don't really remember what happened that weekend. Was that the Charity Event? All I do remember was the birth of the Beastlie Girls on the way home that weekend. The birth of the Beastlie Girls happened later that year on a trip you and your roommate took without me. For full story, go to Yahoo Geocities and search for Beastlie Girls. It will bring up the Beastlie Girls website (which desperately needs to be updated.) Wait....really? I thought we were listening to Liscense to Ill and had the brainchild right there, in my RAV4.
And why did you think I was a smoker? Everyone I hung out with at the time smoked. I figured we'd get along, therefore, you must be a smoker. I was half-right, at the time, you did sometimes have a menthol when you drank. Confusia, do we need to work on fractions again. The fact that I sometimes had a menthol when I drank doesn't make you half-right... What are you, some kind of teacher??
Back in August of '99, I accepted, against my better judgement, the position of Teacher's Assistant in what was referred to as an R-3 Classroom. R-3 meant "Emotionally Disturbed". I was told the kids would be between the ages of 5 and 10 basically, but I would be assisting the teacher working with the younger students. The teacher invited me over to her house one day to have a meeting with her and the woman they'd just hired to teach (you of course use the word "teach" very loosely...) the older ED kids. That's where I beheld Terps for the first time. We were the "new ones" (read "idiots"). I was the assistant in one room, she was the teacher in the room next door. God, we were so innocent (read "stupid").
As a side note, my first impressions of Terps were the following:
1. Smoker (But I'm not a smoker???)
2. A Little Reserved (That's what they say at karaoke...) Not.
3. Not "normal" for a teacher. By that, I mean you weren't wearing a sweater with apples and chalkboards on it.
At the first faculty meeting of the year, the Principal (Bitch) introduced both of us to the faculty. Here's how that went...(alright, I'm going to exaggerate just a little but not nearly enough, sadly.)
"I got a letter from Ms. Confusia's mother, who I used to work with, and she asked me if I had any openings because she had a daughter who was an out-of-work bum, or well, a waitress. She begged and pleaded with me to hire her loser kid, and so I took pity on her. Everybody welcome Ms. Confusia." That was a bit uncomfortable.
"Our other new teacher this year is Ms. Terpsichore. When I first saw her with all those earrings, I thought to myself, 'My God, what a FREAK!', but she did have good references, and God knew I wasn't going to be able to find anyone else to take this shit job, so here she is." I remember it being far more negative than that. It was more like, "Fellow educators, try not to gasp audibly when we unveil her. Her hearing is quite good, and she can be very sensitive," Mrs. Bitch said as the cut the ropes which held the shroud around the cage. "I am not an animal," I said in defense.
When the school year began, we both quickly realized what we were up against. Our first rude awakening occured at "Crisis Prevention and Intervention" training. This is a two day long affaire where they teach you everything from how to talk a kid down from a crisis, to taking him down...as in, on the floor. We learned how to "defend" ourselves against chokeholds, kicks, punches, slaps, and the Whirling Star of Death Ninja Attack. Nothing brings you closer to someone than putting each other in physical restraints, you know what I mean? (And some of us are just too elusive, eh? Hey, btw, do you know what I remember most about that class? I remember when you had to act like a little child stabbing yourself with a pair of scissors. Had I known what we'd be up against in the coming months, I would have let you do it.)
We were prepared...we thought.
Ah, the cast of characters that were the students we enjoyed that year. Here's a quick rundown of the more memorable ones:
Student A: Future Jeffrey Dahmer. We took an unidentifiable bone off of him one day. He yelled, "THAT'S PART OF MY COLLECTION!!!"
Student B: The most astute judge of character you've ever met. If this kid looked at anyone and said, "He/She ain't right." You could put money on it. Sometimes, we would be particularly frustrated with one of the other kids, and this kid would say the things we wanted to say, but couldn't. He'd get a soft pat on the back and a "Now, _______, that's not very nice." I loved that kid.
Famous Quotes: "HEY! HE left his PEE RAG in here! YOU'RE A STUPID PEE BOY WITH YOUR PEE RAG!"
"I don't like that Frizzy haired lady!"
Student C: This kid put three of the four of us in the Emergency Room that year. I think he got suspended for one day.
STudent D: This kid would lie on the floor and scream all day. It sounded like the Tyrannosaurus Rex in Jurassic Park, I kid you not. This kid sucked, and I still don't like him eight years later.
Of course, we had several other assorted kids...runners, poop throwers, that girl from the Exorcist... (My therapist says I'm not allowed to talk about them anymore.)
Every day, we suffered various injuries as we had kids pretty much just beating the shit out of us. We learned that Crisis Prevention was basically a load of crap. It was Open Season in there, and we were the prey. We had kids spit in our faces, headbutt us, kick us, bite us, drag us down hallways, punch us...Even better were the creative names we were called. We determined about midway through the year that the kids had preferred names for us. I was "Motherfucker." Terps was "C***sucker." How did they know? ha ha(I know this comment will be met with severe retribution. I still couldn't resist.) That you fuck your mom? I always wondered how they knew that too...
Very early in the year we took a trip with Terpsichore's roommate to New Orleans. I'd mentioned to Terps that I'd always wanted to go, so we arranged a weekend trip for my 27th birthday. Funnily enough, my birthday (September 25th, cash is fine.) fell during Gay Pride Week so there were even more sights to see than usual.
My first day there we caught the Gay Pride parade that came by our lodgings on Rue St. Anne. Terps was a real hit with the "Dykes on Bikes" Their name for themselves, BTW. Not our name for them.(Wow. I can't believe you brought that up here...)krewe. My "special friends" would meet up with me later that evening.
I'll let Terpsichore carry on a bit from here.
To be honest, Confusia, I don't know if it's because we went there so many times, or that I would later move there, or if I just drank too much, but I don't really remember what happened that weekend. Was that the Charity Event? All I do remember was the birth of the Beastlie Girls on the way home that weekend. The birth of the Beastlie Girls happened later that year on a trip you and your roommate took without me. For full story, go to Yahoo Geocities and search for Beastlie Girls. It will bring up the Beastlie Girls website (which desperately needs to be updated.) Wait....really? I thought we were listening to Liscense to Ill and had the brainchild right there, in my RAV4.
And why did you think I was a smoker? Everyone I hung out with at the time smoked. I figured we'd get along, therefore, you must be a smoker. I was half-right, at the time, you did sometimes have a menthol when you drank. Confusia, do we need to work on fractions again. The fact that I sometimes had a menthol when I drank doesn't make you half-right... What are you, some kind of teacher??
I Don't Even KNOW Me Anymore!
So, something really alarming happened to me yesterday. I was looking at free online (anti-) Valentine's Day cards to send out to various people and one of them was the "Find Your Celebrity Soulmate" Quiz Card. Well, I took it, and the celebrity I was paired with was somebody I loathe. (Which OF COURSE would be so like me when it comes to soulmates.) Anyway, I was so discouraged that I took the quiz several times trying to get a better celebrity. Anyway, out of the 6 times I took it, I got the same a-hole 4 times. I had to pick the answers most contrary to how I actually feel to get the celebrity I wanted (Patrick Dempsey, whom I loved WELL before Dr. McDreamy...I loved him in Can't Buy Me Love, thank you very much!) Anyway, my celebrity soulmate...David Beckham. WTF???
Just for fun, I decided to do the "Who's Your Dead Celebrity Soulmate?" Quiz.
They matched me with Edgar Allen Poe, which really sucks. I was hoping for Lord Byron.
-Confusia
Could you guve me the link to that quiz? Now that's something I NEED to know.
Just for fun, I decided to do the "Who's Your Dead Celebrity Soulmate?" Quiz.
They matched me with Edgar Allen Poe, which really sucks. I was hoping for Lord Byron.
-Confusia
Could you guve me the link to that quiz? Now that's something I NEED to know.
What the???
In looking at yesterday's celebrity crush post, I noticed something a little odd. How did I get from Point A (Ricky Schroder) to Point B (Adrien Brody)? What does this say about how my personality has changed over the years? It's like I went from being a member of the Hitler Youth to being a Zionist...What the hell?
-Confusia
Ah come on, they almost look like they could be twins. Plus, everyone knows that Jason Bateman was the real hottie on Silver Spoons! -Terps
A Serious Moment, If I May.
Confusia here...
I'd just like to take a moment, in light of another school shooting, to share a word of wisdom with teachers.
Please, please, PLEASE do not leave your safety, and the safety of the students in your classroom to a quick response by police. We know we could potentially be in a life threatening situation every day we come to work. Sad, but true. Now, I don't think we all need to wear bullet proof vests, or retire early and cower in our homes. What we do need is a way to defend ourselves and the kids in our care should the need arise.
Please keep some harmless looking object in your classroom that could be used as a weapon in an emergency. For me, it's a baseball bat. I know this sounds ridiculous, but hear me out.
Guns don't belong in schools. The end. BUT, baseball bats are in schools across the nation. If your classroom is the first to get hit, there's not alot you can do, but if they call a lockdown, you can be standing behind your door with the bat. Should the wrong person attempt to enter, it's time to play Babe Ruth. I think these gunmen feel all powerful with a gun, but they're not. It's hard to fire a gun if someone's just used your head to hit a home run. Is it foolproof? Of course not. But it's something. Please don't be the next teacher who says, "I didn't think it could happen here."
For the sake of my safety, for my own children who need mom to come home from work, and the safety of the kids in my care, I will defend my classroom, no matter the age, gender, or mental capacity of the attacker. I advise you to be prepared to do the same.
It is here that I will have to disagree with you, not with the preparedness part, but with "all powerful" part. And even though I can hear the boos across the nation as I type this, I can't help it that I KNOW, having taught the 10 year olds that come to be these adults, that there is more to all of these incidents than we know, more than we are able to comprehend because we aren't in the place that these individuals are. Am I defending them? No. Am I saying that they were within their rights to destroy the lives of others? Absolutely not. Am I saying that these events occur not because of the power that comes with having a gun but because of the lack of power that put the guns in their hands in the first place? Yes. I love that you are prepared to defend yourself and your charges in the event of an attack. I worry that I wouldn't be able to get past age and mental capacity if I was placed in such a position.
-Terps
I'd just like to take a moment, in light of another school shooting, to share a word of wisdom with teachers.
Please, please, PLEASE do not leave your safety, and the safety of the students in your classroom to a quick response by police. We know we could potentially be in a life threatening situation every day we come to work. Sad, but true. Now, I don't think we all need to wear bullet proof vests, or retire early and cower in our homes. What we do need is a way to defend ourselves and the kids in our care should the need arise.
Please keep some harmless looking object in your classroom that could be used as a weapon in an emergency. For me, it's a baseball bat. I know this sounds ridiculous, but hear me out.
Guns don't belong in schools. The end. BUT, baseball bats are in schools across the nation. If your classroom is the first to get hit, there's not alot you can do, but if they call a lockdown, you can be standing behind your door with the bat. Should the wrong person attempt to enter, it's time to play Babe Ruth. I think these gunmen feel all powerful with a gun, but they're not. It's hard to fire a gun if someone's just used your head to hit a home run. Is it foolproof? Of course not. But it's something. Please don't be the next teacher who says, "I didn't think it could happen here."
For the sake of my safety, for my own children who need mom to come home from work, and the safety of the kids in my care, I will defend my classroom, no matter the age, gender, or mental capacity of the attacker. I advise you to be prepared to do the same.
It is here that I will have to disagree with you, not with the preparedness part, but with "all powerful" part. And even though I can hear the boos across the nation as I type this, I can't help it that I KNOW, having taught the 10 year olds that come to be these adults, that there is more to all of these incidents than we know, more than we are able to comprehend because we aren't in the place that these individuals are. Am I defending them? No. Am I saying that they were within their rights to destroy the lives of others? Absolutely not. Am I saying that these events occur not because of the power that comes with having a gun but because of the lack of power that put the guns in their hands in the first place? Yes. I love that you are prepared to defend yourself and your charges in the event of an attack. I worry that I wouldn't be able to get past age and mental capacity if I was placed in such a position.
-Terps
Thursday, February 14, 2008
A Brief Chronology of Confusia's Various Celebrity Crushes Throughout the Years
Ricky Schroder : I am almost painfully embarrassed about this one. And no, Terpsichore, this was not last week.
Morten Harket: The guy in the middle of the trio. Lead singer of A-Ha. We were supposed to get married, but as usual, everything went wrong.
Robert Smith: Who else would a New Wave chick wanna get with? Sad teen angst fact...I once wrote a poem with the same title as his shade of lipstick.
The King Ad-Rock: Cause he knows where they gots the champaigne.
Christian Bale: The man was already an acting genius, but now he's also Batman.
Oh, I'm sure there are others I'm forgetting. But if I'm forgetting them, they must not have been very important to me, huh?
Enjoy. - Confusia
Just so you know, I will claw your eyeballs out if I have to. Robert Smith is mine.
But I prefer this picture:
-Terps
Holy Hallmark Holidays, Cupid!
I have only a second to type this, but...guess what I just got.
Roses!
Guess from whom.
Rob the tattoo guy!
Awkward much?
OH! The tears of mirth that I'm shedding at your expense...ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
You're welcome. - Confusia
Roses!
Guess from whom.
Rob the tattoo guy!
Awkward much?
OH! The tears of mirth that I'm shedding at your expense...ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
You're welcome. - Confusia
25 Things To See Before I Die
OK, SO I was signing into the blog earlier and I was reading that scroll that tells you the blogs that have been recently updated. You know what I'm talking about, right? Well, anyway, there was one called "1000 Places to See Before You Die". Well, I didn't read the blog, but I did love the title and the idea. So, I decided we should start a running list of things we MUST see before we die and everytime we add to it, the title would change? You follow me? So, I shall start the list. Oh, and we can colorcode them so we know who wrote what (although I'm certain some of them will be the same for both of us.)
Terpsichore =blue
Confusia = orange
(1) The Arc de Triomphe
(2) Beastie Boys in concert (DITTO!)
(3) Eight more stamps in my passport
(4) A glacier
(5) Adam Duritz's bed (in person...pictures do not count)
(6) The Musical Wicked
(7) Neuschwanstein Castle
(8) a woman in the White House (not necessarily Hillary. I was thinking more of myself.)
(9) A Luxury cabin on a cruise ship while I am a passenger, and it is mine...
(10) A really nice bank account with my name on it.
(11) Our published novel(s)
(12) A Christmas Story on the big screen
(13) A man that scores higher on my "Perfect Man Requirements" List than Confusia did.
(14) Alaska
(15) A pizza in Italy.
(16) The Swiss Alps (I wanted to live there when I was a kid, and save stranded people with my St. Bernard dog) (Yes, I was a strange child.)
(17) Sweden (Where my people come from...Deuces.)
(18) My &*%$)*^ letter to Hogwarts which hasn't %*^*^% come yet.
(19) Paul Rudd in person
(20) My students finished movies from the filmmaking class (because I'm beginning to doubt they'll EVER be done with them...)
(21) A cure for stupidity.
(22) A %*^#*% pizza place that delivers after midnight.
(23) A cigarette that is not only good for you, but helps you lose weight while gaining muscle tone. (24) A home Lipo kit. The butter knife, reverse air pump with the vacuum hose one I came up with doesn't count as I've never worked up the nerve to test it.
(25) Unfailing, no side-effect at all, comfortable, totally and easily reversible birth control that also stops monthly visits from Aunt Flo. While I realize that abstinence meets almost all of the criteria, it fails in two essential areas...A. It does not stop our monthly friend, and B. It is no freakin' fun at all.
Terpsichore =blue
Confusia = orange
(1) The Arc de Triomphe
(2) Beastie Boys in concert (DITTO!)
(3) Eight more stamps in my passport
(4) A glacier
(5) Adam Duritz's bed (in person...pictures do not count)
(6) The Musical Wicked
(7) Neuschwanstein Castle
(8) a woman in the White House (not necessarily Hillary. I was thinking more of myself.)
(9) A Luxury cabin on a cruise ship while I am a passenger, and it is mine...
(10) A really nice bank account with my name on it.
(11) Our published novel(s)
(12) A Christmas Story on the big screen
(13) A man that scores higher on my "Perfect Man Requirements" List than Confusia did.
(14) Alaska
(15) A pizza in Italy.
(16) The Swiss Alps (I wanted to live there when I was a kid, and save stranded people with my St. Bernard dog) (Yes, I was a strange child.)
(17) Sweden (Where my people come from...Deuces.)
(18) My &*%$)*^ letter to Hogwarts which hasn't %*^*^% come yet.
(19) Paul Rudd in person
(20) My students finished movies from the filmmaking class (because I'm beginning to doubt they'll EVER be done with them...)
(21) A cure for stupidity.
(22) A %*^#*% pizza place that delivers after midnight.
(23) A cigarette that is not only good for you, but helps you lose weight while gaining muscle tone. (24) A home Lipo kit. The butter knife, reverse air pump with the vacuum hose one I came up with doesn't count as I've never worked up the nerve to test it.
(25) Unfailing, no side-effect at all, comfortable, totally and easily reversible birth control that also stops monthly visits from Aunt Flo. While I realize that abstinence meets almost all of the criteria, it fails in two essential areas...A. It does not stop our monthly friend, and B. It is no freakin' fun at all.
Valentine Goodies
Yes indeed, it is that day. That STUPID, STUPID, STUPID day. However, I figured that if you could have a Valentine's Greeting for us, I could too. Here goes!
Dear Hallmark,
I would like to thank you for making the 14th of February my most hated day of the year. In my own defense, I want to tell you that whether I am single (which I thankfully/currently am) or in a relationship, I hate this money-marketing event you shove in the faces of the masses. Valentine's Day has become one of two things. It is either a time when those who have no love interest get to feel miserable about themselves and their inability to find "the one", or it is a day when people scramble to outdo the gift they gave last year or that their friends are giving, etc. I find it sick and completely unromantic. Here's an idea, why aren't we all just nice to our loved ones EVERYDAY? Shouldn't we be celebrating love year round? Do we really have to have some pink and red and white chocolate covered teddy bear and red roses outdo the ex fest? I'm convinced we don't have to do that. However, if you wanted to win me over, you might consider having the following shipped to my house, priority.
Sincerely,
Terpsichore
I knew the photo of Adam Duritz was coming. - Confusia
I'm sorry, did you say something? I was too busy looking longingly at the man of my dreams. I couldn't concentrate.
-Terpsichore
Happy Birthday, Rob Thomas.
Reasons I love you: Bent, Hand Me Down, Downfall
Adrien Brody,
Confusia says,
"Yes, please."
Confusia's good advice for Valentine's Day.
What to watch:
1. Thelma and Louise...lest we forget.
2. Fahrenheit 9/11...because there's never a good day to let go of your bitterness over the past 8 years of political bullshit.
What to read:
1. Bartending for Dummies
What to eat:
1. Whatever doesn't eat you first.
What to wear:
1. Who cares?
Glad I could help.
Love, Confusia
Dear Hallmark,
I would like to thank you for making the 14th of February my most hated day of the year. In my own defense, I want to tell you that whether I am single (which I thankfully/currently am) or in a relationship, I hate this money-marketing event you shove in the faces of the masses. Valentine's Day has become one of two things. It is either a time when those who have no love interest get to feel miserable about themselves and their inability to find "the one", or it is a day when people scramble to outdo the gift they gave last year or that their friends are giving, etc. I find it sick and completely unromantic. Here's an idea, why aren't we all just nice to our loved ones EVERYDAY? Shouldn't we be celebrating love year round? Do we really have to have some pink and red and white chocolate covered teddy bear and red roses outdo the ex fest? I'm convinced we don't have to do that. However, if you wanted to win me over, you might consider having the following shipped to my house, priority.
Sincerely,
Terpsichore
I knew the photo of Adam Duritz was coming. - Confusia
I'm sorry, did you say something? I was too busy looking longingly at the man of my dreams. I couldn't concentrate.
-Terpsichore
Happy Birthday, Rob Thomas.
Reasons I love you: Bent, Hand Me Down, Downfall
Adrien Brody,
Confusia says,
"Yes, please."
Confusia's good advice for Valentine's Day.
What to watch:
1. Thelma and Louise...lest we forget.
2. Fahrenheit 9/11...because there's never a good day to let go of your bitterness over the past 8 years of political bullshit.
What to read:
1. Bartending for Dummies
What to eat:
1. Whatever doesn't eat you first.
What to wear:
1. Who cares?
Glad I could help.
Love, Confusia
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Dysentery: A Novel.
Dear Terps,
Sorry I missed yesterday's fun and excitement. I forgot to mention that amidst all the other good times I was having last Friday evening, one of the kids also had a stomach virus. She was kind enough to share. I would have been at work yesterday, but was having to stay in my bed at precisely the right angle in order to ward off the dysentery. Not that it helped. The dysentery had its way with me anyway. It was just one of those days where you put your Pepto in a little brown bag and swig it right out of the bottle. Awesome.
So, what did I miss?
- Confusia
Dear Confusia,
I think what you really mean is what DIDN'T you miss...
So apart from reading a science quiz to some kids (and don't get me wrong, I love saying endoplasmic reticulum, sadly I REALLY do...), the only other interesting thing that happened to me was talking to Atlas whom I have not spoken to since the poop hit the fan. It was interesting.
So, in a very unTerpsichorean move, I decided that I had to try to clear the air with him, because I feel like both he and I handled things in the wrong way and I didn't expect that we'd just make everything picture perfect, but I did hope that I could at least feel a little better knowing that there was one less person out there planning my demise. In other words, I'm too old to hold grudges and have people sending negative energy my way, so I decided to make nice. It started off, well, not so good, but I think by the end of the day it was ok. Only time will tell. Either way, I did my part and can feel good about that.
So, congratulations on your diet plan. I have always said that dysentery provides the perfect mix of sphincter muscle exercises and appetite supsressant! How are you feeling today?
Later!
Terps
Sadly, I also think it's pretty fun to say Endoplasmic Reticulum. Birds of a feather...
I didn't get to work on the book today. I will tomorrow, God willing. It was very busy today. Filing for the VP, furniture being moved around my classroom. Really exciting stuff.
So, I can't believe you told me about this Atlas thing, but didn't post any of his e-mails. Dont tease.
Yes, I may not actually be any thinner, but I FEEL thinner. Does that count? The appetite does seem somewhat diminished when you're thinking about what that dinner is going to look like on the reverse trip. Also, well, on second thought, I'll leave my sphincter muscle comment in my head for now...FOR NOW da dum, da dum, da dum...
Sorry I missed yesterday's fun and excitement. I forgot to mention that amidst all the other good times I was having last Friday evening, one of the kids also had a stomach virus. She was kind enough to share. I would have been at work yesterday, but was having to stay in my bed at precisely the right angle in order to ward off the dysentery. Not that it helped. The dysentery had its way with me anyway. It was just one of those days where you put your Pepto in a little brown bag and swig it right out of the bottle. Awesome.
So, what did I miss?
- Confusia
Dear Confusia,
I think what you really mean is what DIDN'T you miss...
So apart from reading a science quiz to some kids (and don't get me wrong, I love saying endoplasmic reticulum, sadly I REALLY do...), the only other interesting thing that happened to me was talking to Atlas whom I have not spoken to since the poop hit the fan. It was interesting.
So, in a very unTerpsichorean move, I decided that I had to try to clear the air with him, because I feel like both he and I handled things in the wrong way and I didn't expect that we'd just make everything picture perfect, but I did hope that I could at least feel a little better knowing that there was one less person out there planning my demise. In other words, I'm too old to hold grudges and have people sending negative energy my way, so I decided to make nice. It started off, well, not so good, but I think by the end of the day it was ok. Only time will tell. Either way, I did my part and can feel good about that.
So, congratulations on your diet plan. I have always said that dysentery provides the perfect mix of sphincter muscle exercises and appetite supsressant! How are you feeling today?
Later!
Terps
Sadly, I also think it's pretty fun to say Endoplasmic Reticulum. Birds of a feather...
I didn't get to work on the book today. I will tomorrow, God willing. It was very busy today. Filing for the VP, furniture being moved around my classroom. Really exciting stuff.
So, I can't believe you told me about this Atlas thing, but didn't post any of his e-mails. Dont tease.
Yes, I may not actually be any thinner, but I FEEL thinner. Does that count? The appetite does seem somewhat diminished when you're thinking about what that dinner is going to look like on the reverse trip. Also, well, on second thought, I'll leave my sphincter muscle comment in my head for now...FOR NOW da dum, da dum, da dum...
Monday, February 11, 2008
Careers in Publishing!
Hey there Confusia!
I just wanted to give you a quick goodbye as I sign off for the day. I have a faculty meeting this afternoon (Can I get a whoop whoop!) during which I get to read the 400+ application letters for next year's school candidates. I can't wait.
Hope you have a pleasant evening!
Love ya,
Terps
I just wanted to give you a quick goodbye as I sign off for the day. I have a faculty meeting this afternoon (Can I get a whoop whoop!) during which I get to read the 400+ application letters for next year's school candidates. I can't wait.
Hope you have a pleasant evening!
Love ya,
Terps
Weekends: Can't Believe the Hype!
Dear Confusia, (I have elected to not use the bold print as it kind of makes me feel like I am screaming, and I don't really want the sore throat...)
Confusia comments in orange, my favorite color if you haven't guessed yet...
Terpsichore further comments in periwinkle, NOWHERE near my favortie color, but yellow is near impossible to read on here, so...
I'm glad to hear that things in your little corner of the underworld are well. Sorry that your Friday was a difficult one, though I will tell you that I'm saddened by not hearing the gory details...) I'll give it to you in buzz words: "painkillers + Poison Control + police cars + EMT's + ambulances + large field + runaway husband who can barely walk + sports complex + ER + EKG's + charcoal = Very bad night." Wow, so much of that sounds so very familiar. Any Rodents of Extraordinary Size??? but as people that are hopelessly optimistic always say, "All's well that ends well!"
My weekend was a snorefest, literally. As I was suffering from day 3 of a Migraine headache, I was not forced to go into work on Friday night. Instead I went to bed about 10:00 and didn't wake up for about twelve hours. It was blissful! I cannot begin to describe the jealousy that I have right now. Zero hours sleep in exchange for Migraine-be-gone would have been snatched up instantly...
My Saturday was spent doing laundry. Okay, maybe not so jealous after all.(What can I say, I'm a party animal!) I did get a haircut, which involved me leaving the house, so I wasn't a complete hermit, though I tried, oh yes, I tried! I got another twelve hours of sleep Saturday night which just about spanked the Migraine into submission, so I've been Migraine free for almost a full 24 hours! YIPPEE!!!!
Yesterday I went and played a little poker with my friends. I did pretty well. Walked away with $8.50 more than I walked in with. HIGH ROLLER!!!!!! And then of course I was in bed by 9:30. I slept like shit though (of course being as how it was a school night...) and had a series of random dreams. My favorite was the one where I was one of the detectives on Law and Order: Criminal Intent (which is a show I LOVE because I think Vincent D'Onofrio is HOT!!!! In a crazy, not well kind of way...) but Chuck Woolery was my partner. Very odd...
So now it's back to the daily grind. And it's the week of Valentine's Day (which I would like to take this moment to point out is the stupidest of all assclowny holidays...) Totally agree. What a waste of what would normally probably be a decent day. The only positive thing I can say for it is that it's Rob Thomas' birthday, and I'm for any day that brought him into the world. At least I no longer work at an elementary school and don't have to worry about the Valentine's Party bullshit. AND I work at an all girl's school thereby limiting the amount of hoopla that will be going on. Cannot even begin to describe how jealous I am right now. Now I'd like to take this moment to tell you why you should REALLY be jealous of me. Earlier this school year the Student Council gave all of the teachers here awards. It was really quite funny. BUT, guess what award I was given. Ok, let me just tell you. I got "Best Hair". Which I find to be quite flattering coming from an all girl's school, yes? I do have Valentine's Night plans. Some of the single crowd here in Austin are going to go to the trashiest bar we can find and get hammered! The best way anyone could spend a pointless holiday.I guess I can get on board with Valentine's if it gives me a reason to drink!
OK, I worked on the book and sent it to you. Hope to hear back from you soon! Will begin work on it ASAP. We MUST finish the book soon!
Love ya,
Terps
Lest anyone who might accidentally stumble on our blog and read this before they realize they meant to be somewhere else thinks that I'm making light of the life or death situation that was my Friday night...or making light of depression...I want to just take a minute to say, "Yes, I am."
I take it very seriously, and then afterwards, I laugh about it. I don't know any other way to get through life when it's that rough. Laugh or cry? I'd rather laugh. And yes, it is private, but I think if there's a chance someone in a similar situation could see this, know they're not alone, and that it's not the end of the world, then it should be talked about.
I'd also like to say that if anyone knows someone who might be suffering from depression, don't give them lectures about "getting over it", "eating right", or "just getting yourself in the right mindset." Take them to a doctor, be there for them, and don't bitch at them about taking medicine. This ad is not brought to you by the Church of Scientology. Thank you.
Totally unrelated to anything written above, I've been meaning to tell you that everytime I write a blog I crack up at the Labels for this post option because the first e.g. is scooters, which of course makes me think of Scooters...hehehehe!
Confusia comments in orange, my favorite color if you haven't guessed yet...
Terpsichore further comments in periwinkle, NOWHERE near my favortie color, but yellow is near impossible to read on here, so...
I'm glad to hear that things in your little corner of the underworld are well. Sorry that your Friday was a difficult one, though I will tell you that I'm saddened by not hearing the gory details...) I'll give it to you in buzz words: "painkillers + Poison Control + police cars + EMT's + ambulances + large field + runaway husband who can barely walk + sports complex + ER + EKG's + charcoal = Very bad night." Wow, so much of that sounds so very familiar. Any Rodents of Extraordinary Size??? but as people that are hopelessly optimistic always say, "All's well that ends well!"
My weekend was a snorefest, literally. As I was suffering from day 3 of a Migraine headache, I was not forced to go into work on Friday night. Instead I went to bed about 10:00 and didn't wake up for about twelve hours. It was blissful! I cannot begin to describe the jealousy that I have right now. Zero hours sleep in exchange for Migraine-be-gone would have been snatched up instantly...
My Saturday was spent doing laundry. Okay, maybe not so jealous after all.(What can I say, I'm a party animal!) I did get a haircut, which involved me leaving the house, so I wasn't a complete hermit, though I tried, oh yes, I tried! I got another twelve hours of sleep Saturday night which just about spanked the Migraine into submission, so I've been Migraine free for almost a full 24 hours! YIPPEE!!!!
Yesterday I went and played a little poker with my friends. I did pretty well. Walked away with $8.50 more than I walked in with. HIGH ROLLER!!!!!! And then of course I was in bed by 9:30. I slept like shit though (of course being as how it was a school night...) and had a series of random dreams. My favorite was the one where I was one of the detectives on Law and Order: Criminal Intent (which is a show I LOVE because I think Vincent D'Onofrio is HOT!!!! In a crazy, not well kind of way...) but Chuck Woolery was my partner. Very odd...
So now it's back to the daily grind. And it's the week of Valentine's Day (which I would like to take this moment to point out is the stupidest of all assclowny holidays...) Totally agree. What a waste of what would normally probably be a decent day. The only positive thing I can say for it is that it's Rob Thomas' birthday, and I'm for any day that brought him into the world. At least I no longer work at an elementary school and don't have to worry about the Valentine's Party bullshit. AND I work at an all girl's school thereby limiting the amount of hoopla that will be going on. Cannot even begin to describe how jealous I am right now. Now I'd like to take this moment to tell you why you should REALLY be jealous of me. Earlier this school year the Student Council gave all of the teachers here awards. It was really quite funny. BUT, guess what award I was given. Ok, let me just tell you. I got "Best Hair". Which I find to be quite flattering coming from an all girl's school, yes? I do have Valentine's Night plans. Some of the single crowd here in Austin are going to go to the trashiest bar we can find and get hammered! The best way anyone could spend a pointless holiday.I guess I can get on board with Valentine's if it gives me a reason to drink!
OK, I worked on the book and sent it to you. Hope to hear back from you soon! Will begin work on it ASAP. We MUST finish the book soon!
Love ya,
Terps
Lest anyone who might accidentally stumble on our blog and read this before they realize they meant to be somewhere else thinks that I'm making light of the life or death situation that was my Friday night...or making light of depression...I want to just take a minute to say, "Yes, I am."
I take it very seriously, and then afterwards, I laugh about it. I don't know any other way to get through life when it's that rough. Laugh or cry? I'd rather laugh. And yes, it is private, but I think if there's a chance someone in a similar situation could see this, know they're not alone, and that it's not the end of the world, then it should be talked about.
I'd also like to say that if anyone knows someone who might be suffering from depression, don't give them lectures about "getting over it", "eating right", or "just getting yourself in the right mindset." Take them to a doctor, be there for them, and don't bitch at them about taking medicine. This ad is not brought to you by the Church of Scientology. Thank you.
Totally unrelated to anything written above, I've been meaning to tell you that everytime I write a blog I crack up at the Labels for this post option because the first e.g. is scooters, which of course makes me think of Scooters...hehehehe!
Letters from Inside a Crocodile!
Dear Terps,
Hope you had a good weekend. Mine started off almost as bad as you could imagine, but finished great.
Friday: This day shall henceforth be known as The Day That Must Not Be Named.
Enough said.
Saturday: A little better. I picked up my step-daughter and her half-sister, bringing the total number of kids in my care to 5. I had the following: 12 yo girl, 9 yo girl, 5 yo boy, 4 yo girl, 4 month old girl Good times. We then had a birthday party at my house for three of ours, and two of my sisters. After enjoying corn dogs, pizza, and cake and ice-cream, we took them all down the street to this place called, "Bouncin' Bonanza". It is a huge room full of bounce houses, bounce slides, bounce mazes, bounce boxing rings, and it will give you a huge fuckin' bounce headache! The "piece de resistance" (a la Mike D) Is what I call the Bounce Tube Worm. It is this long tunnel with openings that look like vaginas. When a kid comes out of it, it totally looks like a big, blue vagina is giving birth to five year olds. Gross.Crammed full of wild children literally bouncing off the walls.
Trying to get into the spirit of the thing, and because I have the maturity of a twelve year old, I decided to participate in a few of the attractions. So, I climbed up the biggest slide using the foot bumps, and hand tethers, hawled my butt over the top of the slide, and then raced one of my kids down to the bottom of the slide. I almost had an asthma attack.. I followed that up with a trip into the bounce crocodile. This involved climbing up the foot bumps on the crocodile's inclined tongue, squeezing through a slit in the crocodile's throat ( think of reversing the birth process going into a wind tunnel) I was afraid I was going to get stuck half in and half out. Then, you slide down into the crocodile's stomach, avoiding the scuba diver legs and the anchor that are jutting up from the bottom. When you finish with that, you push down a flap, and squeeze out of the crocodile's ass. I came out of the ass flap, and this little kid who was walking by looked at me like I was an alien. I don't think he expected to see a full grown woman climbing out of a crocodile's butt, and he is probably right this minute telling his therapist that he never wants to see it again...All that was Saturday afternoon and evening. I finally got to go to bed around 1. I was so very, very grateful.
Sunday: Woke up to a messy post-birthday party house. Didn't care. Did nothing until about four, when we packed up the kids and went to the lake. Stayed there for maybe two hours, went home and cleaned house while Mr. Confusia took the other two kids back to their mom...climbed in bed and re-read some Harry Potter. That was just about my favorite part of this weekend. God Bless Harry and the pure escapism that Hogwarts provides for me.
The End.
Ps On a plus side, Mr. Confusia went to the doctor, is taking a very low dosage anti-depressant now, and has been a dream husband ever since. I am SO relieved, and SO happy for him. I really hope that he continues with it (and he will if I have to crush it and sprinkle it in his food! ha ha) because he seems so much better! He woke up smiling, happy, and flirtatious this morning. He's laughed and smiled more in the past two days than he has for the past two or three months. I have been amazed. I'm sad that it had to take a Friday night for it to happen, but at least it happened! Love, Confusia.
Hope you had a good weekend. Mine started off almost as bad as you could imagine, but finished great.
Friday: This day shall henceforth be known as The Day That Must Not Be Named.
Enough said.
Saturday: A little better. I picked up my step-daughter and her half-sister, bringing the total number of kids in my care to 5. I had the following: 12 yo girl, 9 yo girl, 5 yo boy, 4 yo girl, 4 month old girl Good times. We then had a birthday party at my house for three of ours, and two of my sisters. After enjoying corn dogs, pizza, and cake and ice-cream, we took them all down the street to this place called, "Bouncin' Bonanza". It is a huge room full of bounce houses, bounce slides, bounce mazes, bounce boxing rings, and it will give you a huge fuckin' bounce headache! The "piece de resistance" (a la Mike D) Is what I call the Bounce Tube Worm. It is this long tunnel with openings that look like vaginas. When a kid comes out of it, it totally looks like a big, blue vagina is giving birth to five year olds. Gross.Crammed full of wild children literally bouncing off the walls.
Trying to get into the spirit of the thing, and because I have the maturity of a twelve year old, I decided to participate in a few of the attractions. So, I climbed up the biggest slide using the foot bumps, and hand tethers, hawled my butt over the top of the slide, and then raced one of my kids down to the bottom of the slide. I almost had an asthma attack.. I followed that up with a trip into the bounce crocodile. This involved climbing up the foot bumps on the crocodile's inclined tongue, squeezing through a slit in the crocodile's throat ( think of reversing the birth process going into a wind tunnel) I was afraid I was going to get stuck half in and half out. Then, you slide down into the crocodile's stomach, avoiding the scuba diver legs and the anchor that are jutting up from the bottom. When you finish with that, you push down a flap, and squeeze out of the crocodile's ass. I came out of the ass flap, and this little kid who was walking by looked at me like I was an alien. I don't think he expected to see a full grown woman climbing out of a crocodile's butt, and he is probably right this minute telling his therapist that he never wants to see it again...All that was Saturday afternoon and evening. I finally got to go to bed around 1. I was so very, very grateful.
Sunday: Woke up to a messy post-birthday party house. Didn't care. Did nothing until about four, when we packed up the kids and went to the lake. Stayed there for maybe two hours, went home and cleaned house while Mr. Confusia took the other two kids back to their mom...climbed in bed and re-read some Harry Potter. That was just about my favorite part of this weekend. God Bless Harry and the pure escapism that Hogwarts provides for me.
The End.
Ps On a plus side, Mr. Confusia went to the doctor, is taking a very low dosage anti-depressant now, and has been a dream husband ever since. I am SO relieved, and SO happy for him. I really hope that he continues with it (and he will if I have to crush it and sprinkle it in his food! ha ha) because he seems so much better! He woke up smiling, happy, and flirtatious this morning. He's laughed and smiled more in the past two days than he has for the past two or three months. I have been amazed. I'm sad that it had to take a Friday night for it to happen, but at least it happened! Love, Confusia.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Capt. Morgan...A Good and Great Man!
Dear Terps,
I wrote you a bit earlier with a vague description of my evening, but as we can never overstate the virtues of the good Captain, I wanted to go into a bit more detail.
It started after I got home from work, did the dishes, made dinner, gave the baby a bottle, did the dishes again, put the kids in a Time-Out, got them out of the TO , read them a story, and tucked them in bed. I decided that it would be a good time for a drink. So I made this thing with 1 1/2 shots of Capt. Morgan, 1 shot of Creme de Bananas, 1 shot of Creme de Cassis, then some pina colada flavoring, and filled the rest up with orange juice. I also made one for Mr. Confusia, thinking that if the Capt. can't cure him, no one can..ha ha So, I went into our room rocking the freshly painted "Baiting the Hook" Red fingernails. We decided we would watch a movie. For some reason, we ended up with Saving Private Ryan. I would like it to be noted that I said, "Saving Private Ryan" and not the lesser known, (and lesser clothed) "Saving Ryan's Privates."
We were about 45 minutes into the film when the rum started to work its magic, and well, suffice it to say, our marriage should be saved for at least another week or so. ha ha
Lieutenant Confusia Reporting for Duty!
Good job having sex? Is that the correct response?
I wrote you a bit earlier with a vague description of my evening, but as we can never overstate the virtues of the good Captain, I wanted to go into a bit more detail.
It started after I got home from work, did the dishes, made dinner, gave the baby a bottle, did the dishes again, put the kids in a Time-Out, got them out of the TO , read them a story, and tucked them in bed. I decided that it would be a good time for a drink. So I made this thing with 1 1/2 shots of Capt. Morgan, 1 shot of Creme de Bananas, 1 shot of Creme de Cassis, then some pina colada flavoring, and filled the rest up with orange juice. I also made one for Mr. Confusia, thinking that if the Capt. can't cure him, no one can..ha ha So, I went into our room rocking the freshly painted "Baiting the Hook" Red fingernails. We decided we would watch a movie. For some reason, we ended up with Saving Private Ryan. I would like it to be noted that I said, "Saving Private Ryan" and not the lesser known, (and lesser clothed) "Saving Ryan's Privates."
We were about 45 minutes into the film when the rum started to work its magic, and well, suffice it to say, our marriage should be saved for at least another week or so. ha ha
Lieutenant Confusia Reporting for Duty!
Good job having sex? Is that the correct response?
Please consider the poll. I know I have.
For anyone who might stumble across this blog who doesn't work in Education...(You lucky dog!) I thought I might post some of my favorite infractions for 6th graders. Just as a little break from all our drama. Here we go:
1. Will not pull pants up. They are halfway down his backside. Would not hand his papers to me without pulling them away again. Told me he had to "take a whizz."
2. Making comments to a teacher in the hallway, "See what you've done?" and "I hate _______" Chewing gum, making a show of spitting in my trash can, Disruptive in the halls. Said, "Bye, Ms. Confusia. See you in Hell."
3. Walked into class and said, "The Vice Principal is fing***** herself." This caused an uproar. He continued to laugh about it, totally without remorse. When he was told to write a letter of apology, he said, "The VP's finger is stained." At that point, I sent him out.
4. Used paper that he borrowed from me to draw the SouthSide sign.
5. Threatening to set his gang on me and my children. Profanity. Threatening to leave school grounds. Threatening other student. Called me a slut and a whore in Spanish, and said, "Fu***** Gringos" in Spanish.
6. Threw paper at me in cafeteria. In In-House, said, "Shut the hell up." and "F*** you" in Spanish.
7. Called me a D***sucking, C***sucker, B**** Whore.
There was another one that I didn't write. It was written by another teacher...
It's pretty awesome.
I love my job.
And this is why I work at an all girls school!
-Terpsichore
Yeah, but it was actually a girl who called me a d***sucking, c***sucker b**** whore. Where's a bar of soap when you need one, eh?
But my girls have nobody to try to impress.
Well, my girls could kick your girls' asses! ha ha ha
Wait a minute! We're talking EAST SIDE, baby!
EastSide is a bunch of Puta's!
1. Will not pull pants up. They are halfway down his backside. Would not hand his papers to me without pulling them away again. Told me he had to "take a whizz."
2. Making comments to a teacher in the hallway, "See what you've done?" and "I hate _______" Chewing gum, making a show of spitting in my trash can, Disruptive in the halls. Said, "Bye, Ms. Confusia. See you in Hell."
3. Walked into class and said, "The Vice Principal is fing***** herself." This caused an uproar. He continued to laugh about it, totally without remorse. When he was told to write a letter of apology, he said, "The VP's finger is stained." At that point, I sent him out.
4. Used paper that he borrowed from me to draw the SouthSide sign.
5. Threatening to set his gang on me and my children. Profanity. Threatening to leave school grounds. Threatening other student. Called me a slut and a whore in Spanish, and said, "Fu***** Gringos" in Spanish.
6. Threw paper at me in cafeteria. In In-House, said, "Shut the hell up." and "F*** you" in Spanish.
7. Called me a D***sucking, C***sucker, B**** Whore.
There was another one that I didn't write. It was written by another teacher...
It's pretty awesome.
8. Looked at a female classmate and simulated oral sex with his hand.
?????????
I love my job.
And this is why I work at an all girls school!
-Terpsichore
Yeah, but it was actually a girl who called me a d***sucking, c***sucker b**** whore. Where's a bar of soap when you need one, eh?
But my girls have nobody to try to impress.
Well, my girls could kick your girls' asses! ha ha ha
Wait a minute! We're talking EAST SIDE, baby!
EastSide is a bunch of Puta's!
Confusia, Turn Away from the Blog!
AND WORK ON THE BOOK! WE NEED TO GET SERIOUS ABOUT THAT AGAIN!
You caught me red-handed!- Confusia
I'm going to work on the book now, Mom! :)
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Tales of Woe...Why Won't They Let Me Have a Margarita Machine in My Classroom???
Confusia here. Can you guess what just happened in my room? Hmm??
Well, something's been going on for about an hour, but I couldn't catch any of them in the act. Finally, my big break came. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a kid throw some small particle of something.
Me: What did you throw?
Kid: Huh?
Me: What did you throw??
Kid: (bewildered look on face) I didn't throw anything. (with wounded expression)
Me: Bring me whatever is in your hand. (Taking a risk with this one, I know.)
Kid brings up piece of eraser which I was kind enough to let them borrow.
I look at floor. Floor is covered with small bits of eraser. Of course, they're all innocent. Oh, how some of them could benefit from a good b**** slapping.
At the very least, I'm going to get 6 shiny new erasers out of this!!! One from each of them. Yes, some teachers have movies made telling of their heroic and inspirational lives...Others just make the little bastards replace destroyed erasers.
I am, Proudly, one of the latter... :)
Well, something's been going on for about an hour, but I couldn't catch any of them in the act. Finally, my big break came. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a kid throw some small particle of something.
Me: What did you throw?
Kid: Huh?
Me: What did you throw??
Kid: (bewildered look on face) I didn't throw anything. (with wounded expression)
Me: Bring me whatever is in your hand. (Taking a risk with this one, I know.)
Kid brings up piece of eraser which I was kind enough to let them borrow.
I look at floor. Floor is covered with small bits of eraser. Of course, they're all innocent. Oh, how some of them could benefit from a good b**** slapping.
At the very least, I'm going to get 6 shiny new erasers out of this!!! One from each of them. Yes, some teachers have movies made telling of their heroic and inspirational lives...Others just make the little bastards replace destroyed erasers.
I am, Proudly, one of the latter... :)
And if you buy that, let me sell you some stock in the Easter Bunny!
OK....a little background (for our readers out in Cyberwow.) I finally confronted Atlas about his lying and arrogance yesterday (For more information, please see post entitled Could you give me the name of a good doctor?) What follows are the stupid and dead horse beating emails that followed. Grab your muckraking boots 'cause it's about to get deep in here.
So, then after I told him that I didn't trust him because he lies constantly, he sent me an email in which he complained about me bumping him from my Top Friends on my Myspace page. WTF? Anyway, so I called him out on it via an email. (In other words, I opened an enormous can of worms.) The Great Email Debate of '08 follows. The lilac are mine. The shit brown are his.
Are you serious? Do you really think that where someone falls on a Myspace page is the most significant thing going on around here right now? Is it THAT important to you? Because if it is, that's really quite sad. If it would make you feel better, I can change your position when I get the opportunity. Tell me, Atlas, exactly what number would you like to be? I'd hate to disappoint you. Given everything else, that you would be most concerned with your position on my Myspace page seems quite absurd, but really, what else can I expect at this point? Anything else I can do to stroke your ego?
Eh, I deleted my account. That blog bullshit pissed me off. The placing was more a joke than anything. I have enough stress in my life...too much really. London is sounding more and more inviting these days.
What blog bullshit? As I have no fucking blog on Myspace, it can't be that. So PLEASE tell me what blog bullshit you're referring to? Yes, I've a blog. But as you haven't read it, I find it curious that it could piss you off. But I guess that know-it-all narcissists don't have to actually read anything, they just KNOW. As for London, I hope you find peace there. I REALLY do, but take it from someone who knows, changing locations doesn't change everything and usually doesn't change anything, because sadly, when you move you take you there.
I dont deny any of that. The light at the end of my tunnel thats supposed to inspire hope...is probably a train heading right for me.
So at this point some less than productive texting happened in which he asked that I just send him an email explaining why I was so upset. I told him I'd gladly do that if he could answer one simple question: what about a blog you've never read could piss you off? He refused to answer (of course). So, I told him that it was so typical of him to only play the game if he got to make up all the rules as it goes along. Then the emails started again...
Oh, I didn't realize. Won't happen again. Sorry.
How could you not? I asked you to tell me why you're so pissed about a blog you haven't read. It's one simple question. You want me to write you an email explaining everything that's happened to me since Saturday. And yet you won't answer one simple question. The rules are always do what Atlas wants done and if whatever you ask in return is something he'd planned to do anyway he'll do it, otherwise, no dice. It's a very one-sided relationship to be a part of. Contrary to what you think, you do not answer questions directly. You are impossible to understand. There is nothing straight forward about you. No matter what you're asked, you will beat around the proverbial bush until the original question has been forgotten. And that includes menial shit, like the weather. So, why, you ask did I not just ask you whatever I was curious about? Because I knew you wouldn't answer me. You NEVER answer anything. Why is that?
Feel better? I dont. If Im such a fucking monster, then why'd you bother?
It's just all so typical. I never said you were a monster. And NOTHING I wrote indicates that I feel that way. But as is the way with you, of course you didn't respond to anything I brought up. Instead, you made a big blanket statement that in no way addresses the points I mentioned.
I really am curious. Why do you do that? Why can't we get to the heart of what this is all about? Why are you unable to give me a single, straight forward reply?And really, Atlas, the old "woe is me" routine?
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?
For you to say one honest and genuine thing to me.
I miss the way we were.
I don't even know exactly what that means. I think I'm not entirely sure what was real and what was artificial. This is what I mean when I say I don't often understand you. That's what this boils down to. There are so many things I don't know and not knowing them coupled with your history of lies and half-truths makes me suspect.
Oh, that was a reply? I thought it was an attack? As with most of your 'replies'. Youll contest that, but I could easily argue my point. We had an interesting kinship, period. Its clear youve set on about a certain mindset, and are only carrying on now to get some sort of satisfaction from my demise. Which I think is kind of sinister, as Ive never interacted with you in malice. Again, youll ask how Ive come to say this. Im just past giving a fuck.
You would easily argue your point if you had one, but you don't, so you can't. You will, however, go around and around acting as if you might have something of merit to say because in the past, when you have dealt with people who just thought you sounded really smart, that has worked. I however, grow weary of it all and don't think you sound so much smart as you do vague, which you do, I will admit, with masterful skill. I will be honest with you and tell you that at this point I don't know that I believe anything you have ever said to me. I would like to, but you've given me no real reason to think anything you've said is honest. But really, you're past the point of giving a fuck, so what's it matter? With that said, it was what it was, n'est pas?
Please elaborate.
And that's where we are now? So much to discuss. Hard to decide where to start. AND, when I reread this, I realize I sound quite bitchy, but really, there is SO much more involved here. SO MANY LIES!
So, then after I told him that I didn't trust him because he lies constantly, he sent me an email in which he complained about me bumping him from my Top Friends on my Myspace page. WTF? Anyway, so I called him out on it via an email. (In other words, I opened an enormous can of worms.) The Great Email Debate of '08 follows. The lilac are mine. The shit brown are his.
Are you serious? Do you really think that where someone falls on a Myspace page is the most significant thing going on around here right now? Is it THAT important to you? Because if it is, that's really quite sad. If it would make you feel better, I can change your position when I get the opportunity. Tell me, Atlas, exactly what number would you like to be? I'd hate to disappoint you. Given everything else, that you would be most concerned with your position on my Myspace page seems quite absurd, but really, what else can I expect at this point? Anything else I can do to stroke your ego?
Eh, I deleted my account. That blog bullshit pissed me off. The placing was more a joke than anything. I have enough stress in my life...too much really. London is sounding more and more inviting these days.
What blog bullshit? As I have no fucking blog on Myspace, it can't be that. So PLEASE tell me what blog bullshit you're referring to? Yes, I've a blog. But as you haven't read it, I find it curious that it could piss you off. But I guess that know-it-all narcissists don't have to actually read anything, they just KNOW. As for London, I hope you find peace there. I REALLY do, but take it from someone who knows, changing locations doesn't change everything and usually doesn't change anything, because sadly, when you move you take you there.
I dont deny any of that. The light at the end of my tunnel thats supposed to inspire hope...is probably a train heading right for me.
So at this point some less than productive texting happened in which he asked that I just send him an email explaining why I was so upset. I told him I'd gladly do that if he could answer one simple question: what about a blog you've never read could piss you off? He refused to answer (of course). So, I told him that it was so typical of him to only play the game if he got to make up all the rules as it goes along. Then the emails started again...
Oh, I didn't realize. Won't happen again. Sorry.
How could you not? I asked you to tell me why you're so pissed about a blog you haven't read. It's one simple question. You want me to write you an email explaining everything that's happened to me since Saturday. And yet you won't answer one simple question. The rules are always do what Atlas wants done and if whatever you ask in return is something he'd planned to do anyway he'll do it, otherwise, no dice. It's a very one-sided relationship to be a part of. Contrary to what you think, you do not answer questions directly. You are impossible to understand. There is nothing straight forward about you. No matter what you're asked, you will beat around the proverbial bush until the original question has been forgotten. And that includes menial shit, like the weather. So, why, you ask did I not just ask you whatever I was curious about? Because I knew you wouldn't answer me. You NEVER answer anything. Why is that?
Feel better? I dont. If Im such a fucking monster, then why'd you bother?
It's just all so typical. I never said you were a monster. And NOTHING I wrote indicates that I feel that way. But as is the way with you, of course you didn't respond to anything I brought up. Instead, you made a big blanket statement that in no way addresses the points I mentioned.
I really am curious. Why do you do that? Why can't we get to the heart of what this is all about? Why are you unable to give me a single, straight forward reply?And really, Atlas, the old "woe is me" routine?
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?
For you to say one honest and genuine thing to me.
I miss the way we were.
I don't even know exactly what that means. I think I'm not entirely sure what was real and what was artificial. This is what I mean when I say I don't often understand you. That's what this boils down to. There are so many things I don't know and not knowing them coupled with your history of lies and half-truths makes me suspect.
Oh, that was a reply? I thought it was an attack? As with most of your 'replies'. Youll contest that, but I could easily argue my point. We had an interesting kinship, period. Its clear youve set on about a certain mindset, and are only carrying on now to get some sort of satisfaction from my demise. Which I think is kind of sinister, as Ive never interacted with you in malice. Again, youll ask how Ive come to say this. Im just past giving a fuck.
You would easily argue your point if you had one, but you don't, so you can't. You will, however, go around and around acting as if you might have something of merit to say because in the past, when you have dealt with people who just thought you sounded really smart, that has worked. I however, grow weary of it all and don't think you sound so much smart as you do vague, which you do, I will admit, with masterful skill. I will be honest with you and tell you that at this point I don't know that I believe anything you have ever said to me. I would like to, but you've given me no real reason to think anything you've said is honest. But really, you're past the point of giving a fuck, so what's it matter? With that said, it was what it was, n'est pas?
Please elaborate.
And that's where we are now? So much to discuss. Hard to decide where to start. AND, when I reread this, I realize I sound quite bitchy, but really, there is SO much more involved here. SO MANY LIES!
Notes From an Enabler...
Dear Terps,
It's entirely possible that I do have a thing for bad boys. Yes, he is disrespectful at times (Morning time, Lunch time, Evening, etc.) But as there are kids involved, it does change things. I have reached the point where I am going to tell him, "Look, either set the date of your big move, or stop talking about it." I'm exhausted with the fence jumping. My big issue is that I feel he should want to stop doing this to us and to our family. It's common sense, right? Why would anyone want to make their own family life miserable? The problem with that is the word "should". I should find the time to get off my butt and exercise, too, but I don't always. Bush should be impeached, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen. Anyway, I realize that I'm enabling, and that has to stop.
Re: the "being thrilled" part...I also agree. I think he does expect it to be a constant joyride. It so isn't. It may sound like a child, but it's not my fault. I can put on some bunny ears and heels, sure...I can pop the cork on a bottle of champaigne...but not all the time, you know? Sometimes, I'm just going to be a stressed out, no make-up, changing the baby's poop diaper kind of girl. I see no need for me to change his as well.
Now, as to the Atlas situation...Please do send the info along. I shall be happy to post my expert advice that is 100% reliable as I set the standard for functional relationships. Clearly.
Before I close on the subject of Mr. Confusia...allow me to tell you what he came up with last night. I was painting my fingernails as a means of entertaining myself since he wasn't being "thrilling" enough for me...He asked me if I was "re-baiting the hook".
Yeah, because so many men out there want impoverished, divorced mothers of three children. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Baiting my hook...Like I'm Cleo-effing-patra...
It's entirely possible that I do have a thing for bad boys. Yes, he is disrespectful at times (Morning time, Lunch time, Evening, etc.) But as there are kids involved, it does change things. I have reached the point where I am going to tell him, "Look, either set the date of your big move, or stop talking about it." I'm exhausted with the fence jumping. My big issue is that I feel he should want to stop doing this to us and to our family. It's common sense, right? Why would anyone want to make their own family life miserable? The problem with that is the word "should". I should find the time to get off my butt and exercise, too, but I don't always. Bush should be impeached, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen. Anyway, I realize that I'm enabling, and that has to stop.
Re: the "being thrilled" part...I also agree. I think he does expect it to be a constant joyride. It so isn't. It may sound like a child, but it's not my fault. I can put on some bunny ears and heels, sure...I can pop the cork on a bottle of champaigne...but not all the time, you know? Sometimes, I'm just going to be a stressed out, no make-up, changing the baby's poop diaper kind of girl. I see no need for me to change his as well.
Now, as to the Atlas situation...Please do send the info along. I shall be happy to post my expert advice that is 100% reliable as I set the standard for functional relationships. Clearly.
Before I close on the subject of Mr. Confusia...allow me to tell you what he came up with last night. I was painting my fingernails as a means of entertaining myself since he wasn't being "thrilling" enough for me...He asked me if I was "re-baiting the hook".
Yeah, because so many men out there want impoverished, divorced mothers of three children. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Baiting my hook...Like I'm Cleo-effing-patra...
Another Day, Another Fifty Cents. (And the coffee and Valium cost WAY more than that!)
Dear Stepford Wife,
Bonjour, mon amie! I have been in a training ALL morning about something that I really don't think pertains to me as I will most likely not be doing this particular job next year, but alas... Anyway, I apologize for my delay in writing back. And so much to say!!!!
Good morning...
Hope all is well with you. Of course it is NOT, but so sweet of you to ask. I've already kicked one kid out of my class this morning. Don't miss him, either. Come on, Confusia, you know you love the disrespectful little fuckers. That's why you married one. (More on that later, see below.) You know it's going to be a good day when...
I have to tell you about something that is just so ridiculous. It's driving me up the wall and probably into an early grave. I realize that it's not exciting e-mails from little Don Juans' (and by exciting I can only assume you mean repulsive?!?!?), but it's my life...
Mr. Confusia (I really think we should have his name changed. Maybe Mr. Confusion?) has decided to waver back and forth over whether he wants to divorce or not...This means that every day, I hear, "Well, I just don't know what I want to do. I'm not thrilled about going. I'm not thrilled about staying." Wait, now are you asking him this? Or does he just bring it into the daily conversations? "Hey sweetie, we're out of toilet paper and laundry detergent. Oh and I'm not thrilled about going. I'm not thrilled about staying." This is what I think his problem is, he has to be thrilled! That isn't REAL life. Reality isn't a series of really phenomenal things that happen so fast you can't keep you head on straight. It is, rather, a series of really mundane and tiring crap that you must deal with in order to get along in the big, bad world. Oy vey! I can't even think about that anymore. It makes me crazed. GREAT!
You know what, I'm not thrilled about either one of those things, either, but you don't see me whining endlessly about it. Either stay or go. In the meantime, he'll say things like, "Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine." Just shut the fuck up. That would make me feel a whole lot better...I love him I'm going to say this one time and then never again. Please don't be mad at me for saying it (and of course, it's easy for me to say it because Mr. Confusion hates me, but...) I love vodka too. I really love it, but that doesn't make it good for me., but really, just shut up until you figure it out. What am I supposed to do, anyway? It's not like I'm an objective counselor. "Well, Honey, what kind of plan do you have if you leave me and the kids? Do you feel you have a safety net in place if you make that decision?" I mean, WTF??? I'm just supposed to hang out in limbo till he decides. Only if you choose to stay out there in limbo. Maybe it's time to tell him to shit or get off the pot. Because, I PROMISE you that as long as you let him ride the fence, he will. If you allow him to keep doing this "should I stay or should I go" bullshit song and dance, he will do it. He has no reason to stop doing it, because he's been allowed to do it. It's kind of like parents that let kids run the show can't be shocked when kids don't mind. And by that I DO NOT mean that you deserve it, but I do mean that you have to DEMAND that he stop doing it. And I've said this before, I know it's easier for me, on this side of it, to say all that, but psychologically and behaviorally, it's scientifically true. This whole situation is more stupid than just about anything I've ever seen, and if it goes on much longer, I'll be pulling some crazy Britney Spears type shit because I will have lost my mind! (I'd like to put my vote in for avoiding the twat shots and maybe just sticking with the head shaving...)Sincerely, Stepford Wife, Purgatory, US
PS My favorite idea is the one where we stay married, but have separate housing. This translates loosely as, "How 'bout you do all the work, and take all the responsibility, and I come over for a Booty Call when I'm in the mood." Yeah. Because I'm that big a fool. This is just insane idiocy. Wowzers...I don't know what else to say.
It probably isn't all that helpful. I know you've thought all this before, but it's all I've got for you. For what it's worth, I've more stupid and irritating shit from the Atlas front, but that will have to wait for a bit. Maybe he and Mr. Confusion should go out for drinks??? Another round of Jagermeister for me and my friends???
Bonjour, mon amie! I have been in a training ALL morning about something that I really don't think pertains to me as I will most likely not be doing this particular job next year, but alas... Anyway, I apologize for my delay in writing back. And so much to say!!!!
Good morning...
Hope all is well with you. Of course it is NOT, but so sweet of you to ask. I've already kicked one kid out of my class this morning. Don't miss him, either. Come on, Confusia, you know you love the disrespectful little fuckers. That's why you married one. (More on that later, see below.) You know it's going to be a good day when...
I have to tell you about something that is just so ridiculous. It's driving me up the wall and probably into an early grave. I realize that it's not exciting e-mails from little Don Juans' (and by exciting I can only assume you mean repulsive?!?!?), but it's my life...
Mr. Confusia (I really think we should have his name changed. Maybe Mr. Confusion?) has decided to waver back and forth over whether he wants to divorce or not...This means that every day, I hear, "Well, I just don't know what I want to do. I'm not thrilled about going. I'm not thrilled about staying." Wait, now are you asking him this? Or does he just bring it into the daily conversations? "Hey sweetie, we're out of toilet paper and laundry detergent. Oh and I'm not thrilled about going. I'm not thrilled about staying." This is what I think his problem is, he has to be thrilled! That isn't REAL life. Reality isn't a series of really phenomenal things that happen so fast you can't keep you head on straight. It is, rather, a series of really mundane and tiring crap that you must deal with in order to get along in the big, bad world. Oy vey! I can't even think about that anymore. It makes me crazed. GREAT!
You know what, I'm not thrilled about either one of those things, either, but you don't see me whining endlessly about it. Either stay or go. In the meantime, he'll say things like, "Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine." Just shut the fuck up. That would make me feel a whole lot better...I love him I'm going to say this one time and then never again. Please don't be mad at me for saying it (and of course, it's easy for me to say it because Mr. Confusion hates me, but...) I love vodka too. I really love it, but that doesn't make it good for me., but really, just shut up until you figure it out. What am I supposed to do, anyway? It's not like I'm an objective counselor. "Well, Honey, what kind of plan do you have if you leave me and the kids? Do you feel you have a safety net in place if you make that decision?" I mean, WTF??? I'm just supposed to hang out in limbo till he decides. Only if you choose to stay out there in limbo. Maybe it's time to tell him to shit or get off the pot. Because, I PROMISE you that as long as you let him ride the fence, he will. If you allow him to keep doing this "should I stay or should I go" bullshit song and dance, he will do it. He has no reason to stop doing it, because he's been allowed to do it. It's kind of like parents that let kids run the show can't be shocked when kids don't mind. And by that I DO NOT mean that you deserve it, but I do mean that you have to DEMAND that he stop doing it. And I've said this before, I know it's easier for me, on this side of it, to say all that, but psychologically and behaviorally, it's scientifically true. This whole situation is more stupid than just about anything I've ever seen, and if it goes on much longer, I'll be pulling some crazy Britney Spears type shit because I will have lost my mind! (I'd like to put my vote in for avoiding the twat shots and maybe just sticking with the head shaving...)Sincerely, Stepford Wife, Purgatory, US
PS My favorite idea is the one where we stay married, but have separate housing. This translates loosely as, "How 'bout you do all the work, and take all the responsibility, and I come over for a Booty Call when I'm in the mood." Yeah. Because I'm that big a fool. This is just insane idiocy. Wowzers...I don't know what else to say.
It probably isn't all that helpful. I know you've thought all this before, but it's all I've got for you. For what it's worth, I've more stupid and irritating shit from the Atlas front, but that will have to wait for a bit. Maybe he and Mr. Confusion should go out for drinks??? Another round of Jagermeister for me and my friends???
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the parlor...
Ok, my friend. You did well on that last one. I applaud you. Now, try this one on for size. (He's only 5'0", if that, it'll be a tight squeeze.) Be prepared to blush.
BTW, after Atlas told me all about the patient he saw in the ER that asked him out to dinner (really? is there no end to this lunacy?) I considered forwarding this next one to him just to see what he thought of it. Anyhoo....
Confusia edits: 2/7/08
Okay, so I almost feel bad about this...almost. At first, he comes across pretty decently. Then it all goes downhill. I can almost hear "Your Body is a Wonderland" playing....(shudder)
rob g wrote:
I can honestly say I've never met anyone who wears cynicism so well. Despite what you might think, I'm not out to notch my bedpost.And yet, at no time during this e-mail does he mention wanting to grow old with you, sit by the fireplace and read, or even have a nice game of table tennis. I'm 36 and I've been with 6 my entire life and only one in the last year. That doesn't necessarily mean you're chaste..It could just be lack of opportunity. Take it from me. :)I'm not a slut. I may bark a lot, but I'm more like the little dogs that stay on the porch. This is supposed to make him desirable? Probably a good thing he has his own shop. I'd hate to see this guy in a job interview.I'm a totally different person away from the shop. I'm old, too old to be doing the street shop thing. I don't have it in me to perform for the customers anymore. Would he consider you a customer? Ha Ha I just want to take it easy and have others make my money for me. I've cut my hours so I can do the cub scout thing with my son. I got nothing here. Cub Scouts is just too wholesome to be cynical about. Yeah, I'm pretty fuckin dangerous...stay away... you might get bored to death! Again with the hard sell...Here it is: I think you're beautiful, I think you're sexy, I like you as a person, and would love to get naked and roll around in bed with you. I hate the visual I have now.I think we'd have a great time together. When he's not boring you to death.It's all out in the open(not like I ever tried to hide it) I WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU! But you're not just a notch in his bedpost. I want to kiss, nibble and suck on parts of you that no one ever sees. Gross. I want feel your legs wrapped around my waist while I feel the tightening of your neck muscles with my lips. See, here's the problem I've got with this. Knowing that he's five feet tall, and you're five ten, I have alot of difficulty trying to figure out how this one would work. I mean, for you to wrap your legs around his waist, you'd have to be able to put your legs almost behind your ears...It brings to mind images of a chihuaha trying to mate with a Great Dane...The dimensions just don't add up...I want to feel you pull me in as I come up for air. Blurgh.I want to feel the slight quivers of you body as you reach the height of nausea.the end of an orgasm and I want to see a girlish smile come over you well after we're done. He's trying to romanticize this whole thing, which is just really irritating. If you're gonna write a dirty e-mail, then write it, but don't try to make it be something it's not...Either get down and dirty with it, or whisper sweet nothings...The two don't go together...Especially not in unsolicited dirty e-mails from guys you've never gone out with, have refused to go out with, and have not encouraged in any way, shape or form. I work late hours, my son only spends Tuesday and Wednesday nights with me, but I live alone and I have all day off on Sundays.what do ya think...wanna give it a shot? Of Jack Daniels with a Roofie Chaser?
I'm actually a little embarrassed for him on this one. Wow, there's so much to work with here.
BTW, after Atlas told me all about the patient he saw in the ER that asked him out to dinner (really? is there no end to this lunacy?) I considered forwarding this next one to him just to see what he thought of it. Anyhoo....
Confusia edits: 2/7/08
Okay, so I almost feel bad about this...almost. At first, he comes across pretty decently. Then it all goes downhill. I can almost hear "Your Body is a Wonderland" playing....(shudder)
rob g wrote:
I can honestly say I've never met anyone who wears cynicism so well. Despite what you might think, I'm not out to notch my bedpost.And yet, at no time during this e-mail does he mention wanting to grow old with you, sit by the fireplace and read, or even have a nice game of table tennis. I'm 36 and I've been with 6 my entire life and only one in the last year. That doesn't necessarily mean you're chaste..It could just be lack of opportunity. Take it from me. :)I'm not a slut. I may bark a lot, but I'm more like the little dogs that stay on the porch. This is supposed to make him desirable? Probably a good thing he has his own shop. I'd hate to see this guy in a job interview.I'm a totally different person away from the shop. I'm old, too old to be doing the street shop thing. I don't have it in me to perform for the customers anymore. Would he consider you a customer? Ha Ha I just want to take it easy and have others make my money for me. I've cut my hours so I can do the cub scout thing with my son. I got nothing here. Cub Scouts is just too wholesome to be cynical about. Yeah, I'm pretty fuckin dangerous...stay away... you might get bored to death! Again with the hard sell...Here it is: I think you're beautiful, I think you're sexy, I like you as a person, and would love to get naked and roll around in bed with you. I hate the visual I have now.I think we'd have a great time together. When he's not boring you to death.It's all out in the open(not like I ever tried to hide it) I WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU! But you're not just a notch in his bedpost. I want to kiss, nibble and suck on parts of you that no one ever sees. Gross. I want feel your legs wrapped around my waist while I feel the tightening of your neck muscles with my lips. See, here's the problem I've got with this. Knowing that he's five feet tall, and you're five ten, I have alot of difficulty trying to figure out how this one would work. I mean, for you to wrap your legs around his waist, you'd have to be able to put your legs almost behind your ears...It brings to mind images of a chihuaha trying to mate with a Great Dane...The dimensions just don't add up...I want to feel you pull me in as I come up for air. Blurgh.I want to feel the slight quivers of you body as you reach the height of nausea.the end of an orgasm and I want to see a girlish smile come over you well after we're done. He's trying to romanticize this whole thing, which is just really irritating. If you're gonna write a dirty e-mail, then write it, but don't try to make it be something it's not...Either get down and dirty with it, or whisper sweet nothings...The two don't go together...Especially not in unsolicited dirty e-mails from guys you've never gone out with, have refused to go out with, and have not encouraged in any way, shape or form. I work late hours, my son only spends Tuesday and Wednesday nights with me, but I live alone and I have all day off on Sundays.what do ya think...wanna give it a shot? Of Jack Daniels with a Roofie Chaser?
When I started to read this one through, I thought, "I can't say anything about this e-mail. I can't stomp on someone's crush like that, you know?" But the more I think of it, the more it just comes across as a bunch of crap. He's trying to say one thing, while asking for another. "Hey, I'm a nice guy...let's go F***". It's just whack. I think the end result is just dishonesty, thus I have no problem mocking it. It does make me wish I'd saved some of the e-mails I used to get from online "chew toys" in the past, though. Now, that was some writin'! ha ha
I'm actually a little embarrassed for him on this one. Wow, there's so much to work with here.
Sordid? Racy? I'm on it!
I shall add my comments in Field Day Green.- Confusia
Well, since you put it to me that way, here's the first email he sent me.
Promise me you'll have a field day with it, PLEASE!!!!
By the way...you asked for it! (And they only get worse from here...)
rob g. wrote:
Remember me?!? How many five foot tall tattoo guys does he think there are? how you been, had to write you...Rob, Rob, you sad, little man...That's MY job. I had a dream about you. That one day, little tattoo guys, and tall teacher girls will be able to join hands...I know, you're probably thinking " yeah right, you're just saying that cuz want in my pants" I have a real problem with "Cuz Want in my pants." Is it me, or does that just sound and look gross? well, I do but I really did have a cool dream and you were the main character. You were a spy for a small unheard of country Has he been hacking the CIA?!? This comment will self destruct in five seconds. that would soon be a world power should your mission succeed. Or has it already??? (Weird sci-fi music theme)I wasn't even in the dream. Nor is he in your life, so there's nothing new there. It's like I was an omniscient observer. I'd look your bathroom over tonight...check for bugs. He could be trying to tell you something. Weird, huh? How fucked up is that??? Is this a rhetorical question or does he want you to answer? I dare you. MY dream and we didn't even have sex! however I did get to watch you shower and dress. Again, look over your bathroom tonight. COME SEE ME!I still love you, robert
Well, since you put it to me that way, here's the first email he sent me.
Promise me you'll have a field day with it, PLEASE!!!!
By the way...you asked for it! (And they only get worse from here...)
rob g. wrote:
Remember me?!? How many five foot tall tattoo guys does he think there are? how you been, had to write you...Rob, Rob, you sad, little man...That's MY job. I had a dream about you. That one day, little tattoo guys, and tall teacher girls will be able to join hands...I know, you're probably thinking " yeah right, you're just saying that cuz want in my pants" I have a real problem with "Cuz Want in my pants." Is it me, or does that just sound and look gross? well, I do but I really did have a cool dream and you were the main character. You were a spy for a small unheard of country Has he been hacking the CIA?!? This comment will self destruct in five seconds. that would soon be a world power should your mission succeed. Or has it already??? (Weird sci-fi music theme)I wasn't even in the dream. Nor is he in your life, so there's nothing new there. It's like I was an omniscient observer. I'd look your bathroom over tonight...check for bugs. He could be trying to tell you something. Weird, huh? How fucked up is that??? Is this a rhetorical question or does he want you to answer? I dare you. MY dream and we didn't even have sex! however I did get to watch you shower and dress. Again, look over your bathroom tonight. COME SEE ME!I still love you, robert
A Fun Game for Everyone...
I wanted to propose a game, Terps...I know we spoke briefly of this the other day which led to the name of this blog, but so that our readers (ie. you and I) will know how it works, let me explain.
The goal is to meet someone new, and then start sending them whack text messages to make them think you're something you're not, without actually TELLING them anything specific...
For example:
Text 1: Please don't give my number to anyone. Will explain later.
Text 2: Wow! The fans in Japan are just as crazy as I've always heard!
Text 3: If we were to go out, how comfortable would you be being photographed?
This is a great rainy day activity, or perfect for a dull day at work, as well.
The goal is to meet someone new, and then start sending them whack text messages to make them think you're something you're not, without actually TELLING them anything specific...
For example:
Text 1: Please don't give my number to anyone. Will explain later.
Text 2: Wow! The fans in Japan are just as crazy as I've always heard!
Text 3: If we were to go out, how comfortable would you be being photographed?
This is a great rainy day activity, or perfect for a dull day at work, as well.
Confusia and the one-liner...
I don't think you can ever have too many sordid and racy e-mails from five foot tall tattoo guys in your blog, but that's just me.
I Like the Tin Man...
Well, I too shall have fun with COLOR, but in a more word game sort of way. Tell me what you think!!!
Confusia,
I don't want to get into a pissing match with you, but I think I have made it abundantly clear that my life is a bigger fucking cesspool than yours, so please admit defeat so that we may carry on!
So, you asked me about Atlas, hhhhmmmm....what more can I say? The man is a narcissistic, lying, cretin. And that's about all I have to say about that. Well, maybe not, really. The one last interesting thing I have for you is his response when I called him out on the article he "wrote". He told me that it was all a joke. That of course he didn't write that. He expected me to say something about that article and then he was going to tell me that of course he couldn't have written that and somehow, that was supposed to be hilarious. I'll say. It was a total hoot. Oh, my sides! Please stop! You're killing me!
Anyway, enough about all that nonsense, more about today. I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one that has had a less than awesome day. I got to spend three hours in a pre-ARD this morning (because really, the real ARD isn't near entertaining enough), and you know how that always goes. Nobody saying what they really think. Everybody looking at each other waiting for someone else to say something. Needless to say, thus far today sucks! And it's barely half way over. Really?
So speaking of things that disturb me to no end. Today at the gym, my sweat-soaked undergarments spilled out of my bag as I was leaving the locker room . Lesson learned: ZIP YOUR BAG, Terpsichore. Humiliating!
Anyway, I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Sadly, I'm in charge of the after-school homework help club today AND tonight is my bowling night. Have I mentioned my bowling league to you? Wow, we suck, but it's SO much fun. In fact, one of the other gals on my team and I both bought our own bowling balls. Does it embarrass you to know that I actually purchased my own bowling ball? Probably...
OK, I'm off to get fingerprinted!
Love ya,
Terps
PS I have some sordid and racy e-mails from the tattoo guy if you want to use them here.
Confusia,
I don't want to get into a pissing match with you, but I think I have made it abundantly clear that my life is a bigger fucking cesspool than yours, so please admit defeat so that we may carry on!
So, you asked me about Atlas, hhhhmmmm....what more can I say? The man is a narcissistic, lying, cretin. And that's about all I have to say about that. Well, maybe not, really. The one last interesting thing I have for you is his response when I called him out on the article he "wrote". He told me that it was all a joke. That of course he didn't write that. He expected me to say something about that article and then he was going to tell me that of course he couldn't have written that and somehow, that was supposed to be hilarious. I'll say. It was a total hoot. Oh, my sides! Please stop! You're killing me!
Anyway, enough about all that nonsense, more about today. I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one that has had a less than awesome day. I got to spend three hours in a pre-ARD this morning (because really, the real ARD isn't near entertaining enough), and you know how that always goes. Nobody saying what they really think. Everybody looking at each other waiting for someone else to say something. Needless to say, thus far today sucks! And it's barely half way over. Really?
So speaking of things that disturb me to no end. Today at the gym, my sweat-soaked undergarments spilled out of my bag as I was leaving the locker room . Lesson learned: ZIP YOUR BAG, Terpsichore. Humiliating!
Anyway, I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Sadly, I'm in charge of the after-school homework help club today AND tonight is my bowling night. Have I mentioned my bowling league to you? Wow, we suck, but it's SO much fun. In fact, one of the other gals on my team and I both bought our own bowling balls. Does it embarrass you to know that I actually purchased my own bowling ball? Probably...
OK, I'm off to get fingerprinted!
Love ya,
Terps
PS I have some sordid and racy e-mails from the tattoo guy if you want to use them here.
Black Hawk Down???
Just for fun, I highlighted all the good parts, so you can just scan through and think my life is way more fucked up than it actually....wait, no. It really is that fucked up...
Hey Terpsichore,
Have you heard from Atlas again, lately? I'm just curious as to how the blossoming romance is going. I prayed for his safety last night...whether the danger comes from you or a rocket launcher as he conducts recon missions deep into enemy territory while piloting a Black Hawk.
On an unrelated note, I woke up this morning and had a flat tire. GREAT way to start the day...a pissy husband, cranky kids, AND a flat tire! Shit doesn't get any better than that! If only I could also somehow get in to see a dentist today...Ah, but how can a simple milk maid dare to dream!?!
I'm also looking forward to seeing what kids will end up in In-School Suspension today.
(For those of you not in the know, (about 100% of you), that's what I do...run In-School Suspension in the middle of gangland. Good times.) Will I have the gum chewing small timers, or will someone get caught with a knife? Man, the adrenaline rush..ha ha
I WILL be adding more to our book today. I have great plans for the emergency room scene. I've just got to find the time to write it.
Signing off for the moment. Please write back with the update. I haven't had a good laugh all morning. Love, Confusia
Hey Terpsichore,
Have you heard from Atlas again, lately? I'm just curious as to how the blossoming romance is going. I prayed for his safety last night...whether the danger comes from you or a rocket launcher as he conducts recon missions deep into enemy territory while piloting a Black Hawk.
On an unrelated note, I woke up this morning and had a flat tire. GREAT way to start the day...a pissy husband, cranky kids, AND a flat tire! Shit doesn't get any better than that! If only I could also somehow get in to see a dentist today...Ah, but how can a simple milk maid dare to dream!?!
I'm also looking forward to seeing what kids will end up in In-School Suspension today.
(For those of you not in the know, (about 100% of you), that's what I do...run In-School Suspension in the middle of gangland. Good times.) Will I have the gum chewing small timers, or will someone get caught with a knife? Man, the adrenaline rush..ha ha
I WILL be adding more to our book today. I have great plans for the emergency room scene. I've just got to find the time to write it.
Signing off for the moment. Please write back with the update. I haven't had a good laugh all morning. Love, Confusia
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
They LOVE me in Iraq!
OK, so the crap just kept getting weirder and weirder, ya know? So, I guess I let on too much and Atlas thought I might be on to him (which I was), so he got all out of sorts and paranoid and junk and started demanding that I tell him what was going on. What did I know? What did I suspect? If I had concerns, why didn't I just ask him? Blah, blah, blah! Well, after a full 24 hours of his 'roid raging, I did the only thing a girl could possibly do. I handed him some line (a very vague, yet heartfelt line) in which I spewed some junk about my brother. He bought it. In response he sent me the MOST unbelievable, outrageous email in the history of OMG! Of course I HAD to forward it to Confusia. Well, as strange coincidences go, while I was rereading it and making my brilliant inserts, she was ALSO adding to it. What resulted is genuis...
Here is MY version...(Additions in GREEN.)
First, thanks for sharing...and sorry. I can be a spoiled punk kid when I dont get my way. Shove a pacifier in it you whiny baby. Seriously.
Heres an explanation.Im going to tell you a bit of this because a) you deserve to know why Ive been irrational Oh, I'd already blamed it on the 'roid rage b) it feels cathartic to share with you. Seriously, I'm trying not to vomit in my own mouth right now.
Please know that Im not telling you anything in this email that could or would jeopardize/breach any confidentiality agreements. Because it's all fictious...A few years ago, why today is the fifth anniversary of that very day..., I was hired (and worked) as a civilian contracted combat/field physician for 13 months.
During this time, I saw actual combat, ya know, they say video games today seem like the real thing... and was faced with several 'life or death' scenarios You picked wrong, my friend. Some of these in which I had no other option but to violate my hippocratic oath. Wait, wait, wait. Hold the bus. Haven't I heard this one before??? Only with some poor girl who had cancer?!?!?!?
There is a fine line between being faced with (and responding to with force) imminent danger by chance, and by choice. I didnt break and laws, or operate unethically according to combat code. And to further complicate the issue, there is video footage of at least a few of the incidents A battle reenactment that me and my buddy Scooter shot in the side yard by momma's trailer... Shot by several media groups.
While said civilian contract company makes an effort to 'cleanse' the internet of its American employees identities (to prevent/thwart hostage situations) Hey, Terpsichore, this is why I don't show up as a doctor anywhere, you see, it's kind of like I'm in witness protection, except not really because I'm lying about all of this shit AND it's really not that interesting, its not always 100% effective. So with a bit of diligence and personal info, one could still dig up a few things. I figured something had been discovered. Like the fact that I'm a pathological liar and sociopath.
Please dont feel uncomfortable with my sharing, and know youre one of 3 people in my life that know this much. Nobody else would let me pitch my idea for a really cool action-war flick to them.
Atlas Asshole
The section of the oath that this pertains to:
"I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work."
And now for the comedic stylings of Confusia. (Additions in "You're Shitting Me Red" My favorite new color. If only it were a lipstick shade!
First, thanks for sharing...and sorry. I can be a spoiled punk kid when I dont get my way. For my money, the only factual statement in this thing.
Heres an explanation. If you don't buy this one, I've got a few more I could go with...Im going to tell you a bit of this because a) you deserve to know why Ive been irrational b) it feels cathartic to share with you.
Please know that Im not telling you anything in this email that could or would jeopardize/breach any confidentiality agreements. Love the disclaimer...Nice of him to let Big Brother know this at the beginning. Now they don't have to bother with reading the rest of it. A few years ago, I was hired (and worked) as a civilian contracted combat/field physician for 13 months.
During this time, I saw actual combat, as opposed to pretend combat.and was faced with several 'life or death' scenarios. I see actual combat, too. Every day in my kitchen. They're called ants. Also a life or death scenario. Some of these in which I had no other option but to violate my hippocratic oath.
There is a fine line between being faced with (and responding to with force) imminent danger by chance, and by choice. I didnt break and laws, or operate unethically according to combat code. And to further complicate the issue, there is video footage of at least a few of the incidents. Shot by several media groups. It's convenient that he doesn't tell you the names of alleged media groups...
While said civilian contract company makes an effort to 'cleanse' the internet of its American employees identities (to prevent/thwart hostage situations),and to thwart/prevent anyone from researching his story, its not always 100% effective. So with a bit of diligence and personal info, one could still dig up a few things. Just last week, I got a forward in an e-mail that told me who shot JFK, the exact coordinates for Area 51, and the names and code names of all past, current, and future CIA operatives. It told me that something good would happen in my life if I e-mailed it to ten other people within five minutes. You should be getting it if you haven't already. I figured something had been discovered. I take it back. He doesn't work for Dumbasses, INC! He works for the Umbrella Corporation, makers of the fictional T Virus, and evil corporation that is the basis of the Resident Evil games.
Please dont feel uncomfortable with my sharing, and know youre one of 3 people in my life that know this much. The other two disappeared or died under mysterious circumstances, but don't feel uncomfortable.
Atlas
The section of the oath that this pertains to:
"I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work." I will, however, treat patients while using steroids which I prescribe myself if, by some miracle, it turns out that I really am a doctor...
Sincerely, Confusia
Here is MY version...(Additions in GREEN.)
First, thanks for sharing...and sorry. I can be a spoiled punk kid when I dont get my way. Shove a pacifier in it you whiny baby. Seriously.
Heres an explanation.Im going to tell you a bit of this because a) you deserve to know why Ive been irrational Oh, I'd already blamed it on the 'roid rage b) it feels cathartic to share with you. Seriously, I'm trying not to vomit in my own mouth right now.
Please know that Im not telling you anything in this email that could or would jeopardize/breach any confidentiality agreements. Because it's all fictious...A few years ago, why today is the fifth anniversary of that very day..., I was hired (and worked) as a civilian contracted combat/field physician for 13 months.
During this time, I saw actual combat, ya know, they say video games today seem like the real thing... and was faced with several 'life or death' scenarios You picked wrong, my friend. Some of these in which I had no other option but to violate my hippocratic oath. Wait, wait, wait. Hold the bus. Haven't I heard this one before??? Only with some poor girl who had cancer?!?!?!?
There is a fine line between being faced with (and responding to with force) imminent danger by chance, and by choice. I didnt break and laws, or operate unethically according to combat code. And to further complicate the issue, there is video footage of at least a few of the incidents A battle reenactment that me and my buddy Scooter shot in the side yard by momma's trailer... Shot by several media groups.
While said civilian contract company makes an effort to 'cleanse' the internet of its American employees identities (to prevent/thwart hostage situations) Hey, Terpsichore, this is why I don't show up as a doctor anywhere, you see, it's kind of like I'm in witness protection, except not really because I'm lying about all of this shit AND it's really not that interesting, its not always 100% effective. So with a bit of diligence and personal info, one could still dig up a few things. I figured something had been discovered. Like the fact that I'm a pathological liar and sociopath.
Please dont feel uncomfortable with my sharing, and know youre one of 3 people in my life that know this much. Nobody else would let me pitch my idea for a really cool action-war flick to them.
Atlas Asshole
The section of the oath that this pertains to:
"I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work."
And now for the comedic stylings of Confusia. (Additions in "You're Shitting Me Red" My favorite new color. If only it were a lipstick shade!
First, thanks for sharing...and sorry. I can be a spoiled punk kid when I dont get my way. For my money, the only factual statement in this thing.
Heres an explanation. If you don't buy this one, I've got a few more I could go with...Im going to tell you a bit of this because a) you deserve to know why Ive been irrational b) it feels cathartic to share with you.
Please know that Im not telling you anything in this email that could or would jeopardize/breach any confidentiality agreements. Love the disclaimer...Nice of him to let Big Brother know this at the beginning. Now they don't have to bother with reading the rest of it. A few years ago, I was hired (and worked) as a civilian contracted combat/field physician for 13 months.
During this time, I saw actual combat, as opposed to pretend combat.and was faced with several 'life or death' scenarios. I see actual combat, too. Every day in my kitchen. They're called ants. Also a life or death scenario. Some of these in which I had no other option but to violate my hippocratic oath.
There is a fine line between being faced with (and responding to with force) imminent danger by chance, and by choice. I didnt break and laws, or operate unethically according to combat code. And to further complicate the issue, there is video footage of at least a few of the incidents. Shot by several media groups. It's convenient that he doesn't tell you the names of alleged media groups...
While said civilian contract company makes an effort to 'cleanse' the internet of its American employees identities (to prevent/thwart hostage situations),and to thwart/prevent anyone from researching his story, its not always 100% effective. So with a bit of diligence and personal info, one could still dig up a few things. Just last week, I got a forward in an e-mail that told me who shot JFK, the exact coordinates for Area 51, and the names and code names of all past, current, and future CIA operatives. It told me that something good would happen in my life if I e-mailed it to ten other people within five minutes. You should be getting it if you haven't already. I figured something had been discovered. I take it back. He doesn't work for Dumbasses, INC! He works for the Umbrella Corporation, makers of the fictional T Virus, and evil corporation that is the basis of the Resident Evil games.
Please dont feel uncomfortable with my sharing, and know youre one of 3 people in my life that know this much. The other two disappeared or died under mysterious circumstances, but don't feel uncomfortable.
Atlas
The section of the oath that this pertains to:
"I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work." I will, however, treat patients while using steroids which I prescribe myself if, by some miracle, it turns out that I really am a doctor...
Sincerely, Confusia
Monday, February 4, 2008
Really! It's not me; it's you.
What else could I do? Confusia brought up some very important points; some I had considered, some not. Either way, I had thoughts to add.
Then Confusia had some MORE comments to add... in OMG ORANGE!
Atlas' original text in Compulsive Liar Cornflower
Dear Terpsichore,
Do you think he's even a doctor? Of course I do not. Not even for a second. In fact, I kind of imagine him living in his mom's trailer in Slidell, LA looking at his dad's Civil War memorabilia and eating Funyuns. Really, and I hate to say this because it sounds really cynical, (as if I've ever been afraid of cynicism...ha ha) nothing that men do really surprises me anymore. No, not surprising in the least. Sad, yes, but not surprising. And PLEASE remind me why I'm so reluctant to get involved in relationships. I forget.
So, he's probably not a doctor, probably doesn't live in San Diego..etc. GASP!!! I had kind of a big question mark when we went out the other night and you were telling me how he's almost afraid to start something with you because he feels like, if it doesn't work out, then nothing would. In my experiences with you, I have noticed that men are never afraid to start something with you, under any circumstances. It just didn't make alot of sense based on past observations. My guess is that you aren't just seeing a conspiracy. Let me tell you something else...The picture of him you showed me...either A...it could be anyone because the head shot was blurred, (granted, this could just be that I'm blind as a bat, and the picture was actually clear as a bell..ha ha) or B. it was him, he is a workout fiend, and let's just say for the record, that guys who make themselves look like that usually always have some sort of complex. Oh shit, I can't believe I didn't tell you about finding him on all those steroid message boards. Oh wow....how did I let that one slip??? They are either compulsive liars, who tell you very impressive stories...out of curiosity...has he ever told you a story involving him saving a life in a medical capacity? Of course. Man takes machette to wife, son, and self, blah, blah, blah. I like that color on you... He probably didn't tell it like it was a huge event...maybe kind of blase, but still telling you? See reference above. Has he ever told you that he A. has done some modeling B. is really into athletics, and was a star whatever when he was a kid or in High School. C. that he's really into martial arts, and is a black belt at something? Oh, I'm not sure if this goes under B or C, but yes. Of course, he was a prize winning boxer. (And I don't think he meant AKC when he said it.) D. That he's really involved in some kind of organization that helps children? Gee, I'm not sure. Does specializing in pediatric oncology count??? If he has, then I'd put my money on him being a compulsive liar...all of these stories are, in the words of my hero, Dr. Evil, pretty much standard, really. :)
I present you with Exhibit A:
When I lived in Austin, there was this guy who said he taught dance lessons to disadvantaged children, and had performed with MC Hammer..(laugh. This gives away my age in a very unflattering light. The guy I ended up being a, LIAR!!! Never worked with disadvantaged kid, never worked with MC Hammer, didn't make as much money as he said...it was all just a bunch of crap....This guy left with another woman in front of me, then claimed that it was because her dogs were sick, and he was going to go help her with them...Sure. The guy ended up being a, LIAR!!! Never worked with disadvantaged kid, never worked with MC Hammer, didn't make as much money as he said...it was all just a bunch of crap....This guy left with another woman in front of me, then claimed that it was because her dogs were sick, and he was going to go help her with them...Sure. A good Samaritan AND an animal lover? How'd you let him go? This guy actually had the gall to call me at 3 in the morning and ask why I was seen walking down 6th Street with another man...Hate the game, not the playa'..ha ha
The other guy was in Maine..
He had modelled and lived in Paris for a year...couldn't speak a word of French, except one pleasantry he probably picked up on a summer vacation to Quebec. Voyez vous coushez avec moi? He was a black belt in Judo. Prize winning boxer, yes, yes...He had been a soccer player destied for the Olympics until an "injury" had ruined his chances. In this case the "injury" could be testing positive for HGH??? He was shorter than I am, less muscular than I am...but you get the picture.
Maybe there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for these things...maybe he works for the CIA and CAN'T tell you what he really does. Maybe he's in Delta Force. Ok, so this is the part in which your sleuth skills truly amaze me. Following is an excerpt from an email he sent because I hinted at the fact that I JUST might be on to him. (This will astound even you.): So what is all of this about? What big things do you have going on? I have never lied to you about anything that would affect us. Am I still under contract from a civilian contract company that operates over seas? Umbrella Corporation.Possibly. Can I talk about my relationship with them? I honestly cant. Is the board member I spoke of affiliated with them as well? This board member also knows where the Holy Grail is located, and the exact Da Vinci painting that holds the key to it all. Possibly. I dont even like discussing it in an unencrypted email format. Seriously, Confusia, I'm not even joking. I'm laughing right now, out loud no less, but in a very uncomfortable way. This line is so good, I'm going to have to start using it..FREQUENTLY. "I'm sorry I didn't get that paperwork in to you on time. I didn't want to send it in an unencrypted e-mail format.", "I'm sorry the laundry isn't done, Honey. I was afraid to do it in unencrypted format." Maybe he's a perfectly good guy but due to constraints with his REAL job, he is forced to lie. which would cause some real hardships for a good guy to deal with. That doesn't explain why he would tell you he wrote a paper that he didn't write, though. That's a lie that's for no apparent reason. It's not like you told him you wouldn't talk to him anymore if he didn't have a paper to his credit, you know? Maybe it's my own bias against people who take credit for things they didn't write or have the intelligenece to come up with on their own...(BEar with me, my fingers are cold, and there are typos, but I don't want to go back and correct every stupid one of them) I personally don't like or admire people who take credit for stuff they didn't do. That, to me, is the sorriest thing out of all that you told me. Agreed! Agreed! Speaking to the choir for the REAL!!!! I don't care how badly he might want to impress you, it's theft. Far worse than taking someone's bike...they didn't make that to begin with...theft of an idea is way more personal. But I am kind of militant about that...ha ha
I think you should just ask him about these things. STraight up...he can either come clean, and try to offer up some reason for it that will either stand or not. Or he can choose to perpetuate all this...Either way, you'll get a glimpse of his true character. Really? See here's what I think (and quite possibly why I would be the better candidate in taking over when Dr. Evil is no longer able to carry on.) I think that once I get my hands on that background check I will know everything that I need to know. So, my plan is to send him an email that says simply: I wonder when it all spiraled out of control for you. I thought you might want to add this to the paper you're writing. And here I would paste the rest of the paper that I found when I looked "his" up on Google. See, because I don't really care anymore. I have NO intention of ever seeing his steroid-infused person again. I'm done! See. This is why I'd think I'd be a really good candidate for Mr. Bigglesworth...I think you need to send him a letter from your "LAWYER FRIEND, Sal Goldstein. Just like the one you sent me back in the first year we worked together...if you know what I mean. He needs to get a letter from someone representing this alleged "company", and its alleged "Board Member" asking him why he's breaking confidentiality laws. If he's making all this up, think how panicked he'll be if he thinks he actually hit on some kind of truth with his lies..."Oh my God! There really is a company like this, and now they think I know all about it when I was just making it up." I mean, there's no way he could convince them he was lying...ha ha The words coming out are so devious, but I can't seem to stop myself...Send him the letter, pop some corn, and enjoy the show!!! Then send me "One MILLION dollars!"
Write back soon! My boredom level is nearing critical mass!
Confusia responds to Terpsichore's concerns with a little checklist she compiled through years of being a compulsive liar magnet. I urge you all to use this as a gauge to determine the level of truthfulness of your own significant other...This little baby never lies!
Dear Terpsichore,
Do you think he's even a doctor? REally, and I hate to say this because it sounds really cynical, (as if I've ever been afraid of cynicism...ha ha) nothing that men do really surprises me anymore.
So, he's probably not a doctor, probably doesn't live in San Diego..etc. I had kind of a big question mark when we went out the other night and you were telling me how he's almost afraid to start something with you because he feels like, if it doesn't work out, then nothing would. In my experiences with you, I have noticed that men are never afraid to start something with you, under any circumstances. It just didn't make alot of sense based on past observations. My guess is that you aren't just seeing a conspiracy. Let me tell you something else...The picture of him you showed me...either A...it could be anyone because the head shot was blurred, (granted, this could just be that I'm blind as a bat, and the picture was actually clear as a bell..ha ha) or B. it was him, he is a workout fiend, and let's just say for the record, that guys who make themselves look like that usually always have some sort of complex. Theya re either compulsive liars, who tell you very impressive stories...out of curiosity...has he ever told you a story involving him saving a life in a medical capacity? He probably didn't tell it like it was a huge event...maybe kind of blase, but still telling you? Has he ever told you that he A. has done some modeling B. is really into athletics, and was a star whatever when he was a kid or in High School. C. that he's really into martial arts, and is a black belt at something? D. That he's really involved in some kind of organization that helps children? If he has, then I'd put my money on him being a compulsive liar...all of these stories are, in the words of my hero, Dr. Evil, pretty much standard, really. :)
I present you with Exhibit A:
When I lived in Austin, there was this guy who said he taught dance lessons to disadvantaged children, and had performed with MC Hammer..(laugh. This gives away my age in a very unflattering light. ended up being a, LIAR!!! Never worked with disadvantaged kid, never worked with MC Hammer, didn't make as much money as he said...it was all just a bunch of crap....This guy left with another woman in front of me, then claimed that it was because her dogs were sick, and he was going to go help her with them...Sure.
The other guy was in Maine..
He had modelled and lived in Paris for a year...couldn't speak a rk of French, except one pleasantry he probably picked up on a summer vacation to Quebec. He was a black belt in Judo. He had been a soccer player destined for the Olympics until an "injury" ruined his chances.
He was shorter than I am, less muscular than I am...but you get the picture.
Maybe there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for these things...maybe he works for the CIA and CAN'T tell you what he really does. Maybe he's in Delta Force. Maybe he's a perfectly good guy but due to constraints with his REAL job, he is forced to lie. which would cause some real hardships for a good guy to deal with. That doesn't explain why he would tell you he wrote a paper that he didn't write, though. That's a lie that's for no apparent reason. It's not like you told him you wouldn't talk to him anymore if he didn't have a paper to his credit, you know? Maybe it's my own bias against people who take credit for things they didn't write or have the intelligenece to come up with on their own...(BEar with me, my fingers are cold, and there are typos, but I don't want to go back and correct every stupid one of them) I personally don't like or admire people who take credit for stuff they didn't do. That, to me, is the sorriest thing out of all that you told me. I don't care how badly he might want to impress you, it's theft. Far worse than taking someone's bike...they didn't make that to begin with...theft of an idea is way more personal. But I am kind of militant about that...ha ha
I think you should just ask him about these things. STraight up...he can either come clean, and try to offer up some reason for it that will either stand or not. Or he can choose to perpetuate all this...Either way, you'll get a glimpse of his true character.
Write back soon! My boredom level is nearing critical mass.
Dear Terpsichore,
Do you think he's even a doctor? REally, and I hate to say this because it sounds really cynical, (as if I've ever been afraid of cynicism...ha ha) nothing that men do really surprises me anymore.
So, he's probably not a doctor, probably doesn't live in San Diego..etc. I had kind of a big question mark when we went out the other night and you were telling me how he's almost afraid to start something with you because he feels like, if it doesn't work out, then nothing would. In my experiences with you, I have noticed that men are never afraid to start something with you, under any circumstances. It just didn't make alot of sense based on past observations. My guess is that you aren't just seeing a conspiracy. Let me tell you something else...The picture of him you showed me...either A...it could be anyone because the head shot was blurred, (granted, this could just be that I'm blind as a bat, and the picture was actually clear as a bell..ha ha) or B. it was him, he is a workout fiend, and let's just say for the record, that guys who make themselves look like that usually always have some sort of complex. Theya re either compulsive liars, who tell you very impressive stories...out of curiosity...has he ever told you a story involving him saving a life in a medical capacity? He probably didn't tell it like it was a huge event...maybe kind of blase, but still telling you? Has he ever told you that he A. has done some modeling B. is really into athletics, and was a star whatever when he was a kid or in High School. C. that he's really into martial arts, and is a black belt at something? D. That he's really involved in some kind of organization that helps children? If he has, then I'd put my money on him being a compulsive liar...all of these stories are, in the words of my hero, Dr. Evil, pretty much standard, really. :)
I present you with Exhibit A:
When I lived in Austin, there was this guy who said he taught dance lessons to disadvantaged children, and had performed with MC Hammer..(laugh. This gives away my age in a very unflattering light. ended up being a, LIAR!!! Never worked with disadvantaged kid, never worked with MC Hammer, didn't make as much money as he said...it was all just a bunch of crap....This guy left with another woman in front of me, then claimed that it was because her dogs were sick, and he was going to go help her with them...Sure.
The other guy was in Maine..
He had modelled and lived in Paris for a year...couldn't speak a rk of French, except one pleasantry he probably picked up on a summer vacation to Quebec. He was a black belt in Judo. He had been a soccer player destined for the Olympics until an "injury" ruined his chances.
He was shorter than I am, less muscular than I am...but you get the picture.
Maybe there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for these things...maybe he works for the CIA and CAN'T tell you what he really does. Maybe he's in Delta Force. Maybe he's a perfectly good guy but due to constraints with his REAL job, he is forced to lie. which would cause some real hardships for a good guy to deal with. That doesn't explain why he would tell you he wrote a paper that he didn't write, though. That's a lie that's for no apparent reason. It's not like you told him you wouldn't talk to him anymore if he didn't have a paper to his credit, you know? Maybe it's my own bias against people who take credit for things they didn't write or have the intelligenece to come up with on their own...(BEar with me, my fingers are cold, and there are typos, but I don't want to go back and correct every stupid one of them) I personally don't like or admire people who take credit for stuff they didn't do. That, to me, is the sorriest thing out of all that you told me. I don't care how badly he might want to impress you, it's theft. Far worse than taking someone's bike...they didn't make that to begin with...theft of an idea is way more personal. But I am kind of militant about that...ha ha
I think you should just ask him about these things. STraight up...he can either come clean, and try to offer up some reason for it that will either stand or not. Or he can choose to perpetuate all this...Either way, you'll get a glimpse of his true character.
Write back soon! My boredom level is nearing critical mass.
Could you give me the name of a good doctor?
Because I have GOT to get this freak magnet taken out of my back!
So sadly, this is how it all began. About a year and a half ago, I met a guy when I was on vacation. He and I started a remote access email/phone/text relationship. Turns out that when you are in such a situation, anything can and likely WILL happen. So it dawned on me one day that I should send Confusia an email and share my suspicions about this guy. From there, the madness unfurled.
Here's the email that started it all. Read on...
Confusia,
Well, so that you can take comfort in knowing that my life is a weird train wreck, let me tell you a little story. Oh and for the record, it is all so bizarre that I think it'd be an excellent premise for our next novel. Sadly, it's not fiction; it's my life RIGHT NOW!
OK, so you know somewhat about Atlas (not his REAL name), right? Well, turns out that I might not know as much about him as I thought I did. None of what you are about to hear is going to be helped by how much of a conpiracy theorist I am, but still....here goes (and forgive me if I ramble and have to cut back and forth between stories and junk, ok? Ask clarification questions as needed.)
OK, for about 3 months I have really begun to doubt a lot of things that Atlas has told me. None of it was really big stuff, but it was all just enough to make me constantly raise an eyebrow. Granted, I'd dismiss it just as suddenly, but you get my point, yes? Here are a few examples of what I'm talking about.
(1) Back in October he was (allegedly) in Las Vegas. He had texted me several times while he was there. Well, I asked him if he'd place a bet on the Jets (to beat the Bills if memory serves correctly, and it does). So he placed the bet. The Jets lost, so I told him I'd send him the $20 if he'd give me his address. Well, he told me that I didn't have to give him the $20. It was no big deal. I didn't need to mail him money, blah, blah, blah. So for some reason something about that alerted me. I'm not sure why but we'll just say it called to my women's intuition. I, of course let it go (to a degree).
(2) I would guess back in December, he and I were talking about funny New Orleans stories and whatnot. Anyway, I was trying to remember something that had happened at a grocery store but I couldn't remember which store it was, so I asked, "What are some of the grocery stores in New Orleans?" So he says, "Let's see, we have Minyards here, and Piggly Wiggly. Oh and wasn't that new Whole Foods opened when you were here?" OK, so that might not be verbatum, but I CLEARLY remember him saying "here" during that spill twice. So, of course it makes me think, "Wait a minute isn't he in San Diego?" Well, of course I don't say anything. I just file it away. You know, I still call Mesquite home and might trip up on something like that even though I CLEARLY live in Austin.
(3) So, as I told you, Michelle and Atlas had become pretty friendly and junk so she told me that she had responded to some email he wrote her by saying something about how she and I should plan a trip to San Diego and visit him. Well, I never read the emails or the responses, but she said that he had been totally elusive about talking about it at all. Anyway, what's odd is that she got the feeling that he was hiding something, like maybe he didn't live in San Diego. Well, I hadn't mentioned any of my doubts to her at the time. So, I told her I'd been thinking the same thing and so my conspiracy theory was born.
(4) OK, so this is a GOOD ONE! Remember I was telling you the other day about my mythology class? Well, I was also emailing him about it. He'd asked me what all I'd have to do to develop the curriculum and junk like that. Well, I started to get the feeling that he might be a little intimidated or emasculated by the idea that I would be, well smart and capable. So, I check my email the next day and I have this email from him that says he had to write a paper for a presentation he's doing. Anyway, he sends me the abstract. Well, dude, this just in: I'm a teacher. What's the first thing I did???? You guessed it. I put the first paragraph in the Google search engine and found the paper. Incidentally, it was written by some doctor in Maryland. Interesting, no?
(5) So, yesterday, I thought I'd go do a little fishing. I sent him a text and told him I had talked to a friend of mine from when I lived L.A. who was now living in San Diego. Being the brilliant liar I am, I went on to tell him that her husband works in some capacity with accounts for UCSD Medical Center (the medical center he allegedly works for). So, I asked him if he could tell me which hospital he worked for because she thought she might find out if they had run into each other. Well, he was so reluctant to answer that question. He asked me to explain the situation to him again and again. And then even after he "understood" what I was asking he still just said, "Oh I doubt he knows me." Finally (maybe in the amount of time it took him to look up UCSDMC on the internet), he gave me some story about how he is employed through Thorton Hospital but that isn't necessairly his base. You get where I'm going, right?
So, just all of this stuff starts adding up, right? And turns out I'm NOT stupid. So, I decide to do a little detective work. Just so happens that Michelle has a friend who is a paralegal who does background checks. I'm waiting for the results. In the meantime, I have looked him up at the California Medical Board and the Louisiana Medical Board, no sign of him. So, I did the only thing I could do. I called UCSDMC and asked if he works there. They have no doctor by that name on record. SHOCKING!
Wow, huh?
Terpischore
So sadly, this is how it all began. About a year and a half ago, I met a guy when I was on vacation. He and I started a remote access email/phone/text relationship. Turns out that when you are in such a situation, anything can and likely WILL happen. So it dawned on me one day that I should send Confusia an email and share my suspicions about this guy. From there, the madness unfurled.
Here's the email that started it all. Read on...
Confusia,
Well, so that you can take comfort in knowing that my life is a weird train wreck, let me tell you a little story. Oh and for the record, it is all so bizarre that I think it'd be an excellent premise for our next novel. Sadly, it's not fiction; it's my life RIGHT NOW!
OK, so you know somewhat about Atlas (not his REAL name), right? Well, turns out that I might not know as much about him as I thought I did. None of what you are about to hear is going to be helped by how much of a conpiracy theorist I am, but still....here goes (and forgive me if I ramble and have to cut back and forth between stories and junk, ok? Ask clarification questions as needed.)
OK, for about 3 months I have really begun to doubt a lot of things that Atlas has told me. None of it was really big stuff, but it was all just enough to make me constantly raise an eyebrow. Granted, I'd dismiss it just as suddenly, but you get my point, yes? Here are a few examples of what I'm talking about.
(1) Back in October he was (allegedly) in Las Vegas. He had texted me several times while he was there. Well, I asked him if he'd place a bet on the Jets (to beat the Bills if memory serves correctly, and it does). So he placed the bet. The Jets lost, so I told him I'd send him the $20 if he'd give me his address. Well, he told me that I didn't have to give him the $20. It was no big deal. I didn't need to mail him money, blah, blah, blah. So for some reason something about that alerted me. I'm not sure why but we'll just say it called to my women's intuition. I, of course let it go (to a degree).
(2) I would guess back in December, he and I were talking about funny New Orleans stories and whatnot. Anyway, I was trying to remember something that had happened at a grocery store but I couldn't remember which store it was, so I asked, "What are some of the grocery stores in New Orleans?" So he says, "Let's see, we have Minyards here, and Piggly Wiggly. Oh and wasn't that new Whole Foods opened when you were here?" OK, so that might not be verbatum, but I CLEARLY remember him saying "here" during that spill twice. So, of course it makes me think, "Wait a minute isn't he in San Diego?" Well, of course I don't say anything. I just file it away. You know, I still call Mesquite home and might trip up on something like that even though I CLEARLY live in Austin.
(3) So, as I told you, Michelle and Atlas had become pretty friendly and junk so she told me that she had responded to some email he wrote her by saying something about how she and I should plan a trip to San Diego and visit him. Well, I never read the emails or the responses, but she said that he had been totally elusive about talking about it at all. Anyway, what's odd is that she got the feeling that he was hiding something, like maybe he didn't live in San Diego. Well, I hadn't mentioned any of my doubts to her at the time. So, I told her I'd been thinking the same thing and so my conspiracy theory was born.
(4) OK, so this is a GOOD ONE! Remember I was telling you the other day about my mythology class? Well, I was also emailing him about it. He'd asked me what all I'd have to do to develop the curriculum and junk like that. Well, I started to get the feeling that he might be a little intimidated or emasculated by the idea that I would be, well smart and capable. So, I check my email the next day and I have this email from him that says he had to write a paper for a presentation he's doing. Anyway, he sends me the abstract. Well, dude, this just in: I'm a teacher. What's the first thing I did???? You guessed it. I put the first paragraph in the Google search engine and found the paper. Incidentally, it was written by some doctor in Maryland. Interesting, no?
(5) So, yesterday, I thought I'd go do a little fishing. I sent him a text and told him I had talked to a friend of mine from when I lived L.A. who was now living in San Diego. Being the brilliant liar I am, I went on to tell him that her husband works in some capacity with accounts for UCSD Medical Center (the medical center he allegedly works for). So, I asked him if he could tell me which hospital he worked for because she thought she might find out if they had run into each other. Well, he was so reluctant to answer that question. He asked me to explain the situation to him again and again. And then even after he "understood" what I was asking he still just said, "Oh I doubt he knows me." Finally (maybe in the amount of time it took him to look up UCSDMC on the internet), he gave me some story about how he is employed through Thorton Hospital but that isn't necessairly his base. You get where I'm going, right?
So, just all of this stuff starts adding up, right? And turns out I'm NOT stupid. So, I decide to do a little detective work. Just so happens that Michelle has a friend who is a paralegal who does background checks. I'm waiting for the results. In the meantime, I have looked him up at the California Medical Board and the Louisiana Medical Board, no sign of him. So, I did the only thing I could do. I called UCSDMC and asked if he works there. They have no doctor by that name on record. SHOCKING!
Wow, huh?
Terpischore
In The Beginning
Who We Are:
Tersichore (the Muse):
Teacher, Beastlie Girl, Object of lust for all men, and one random lesbian with a blog.
Confusia:
Teacher, Beastlie Girl, simple milk maid...
These are the private e-mails between two best friends. No talk of eating chocolate, no fuss about broken nails, just a gallop through our personal lives as we interact with a flock of freaks, a herd of hoodlums, and the occasional plankton...
Enter and EAVESDROP!!
Tersichore (the Muse):
Teacher, Beastlie Girl, Object of lust for all men, and one random lesbian with a blog.
Confusia:
Teacher, Beastlie Girl, simple milk maid...
These are the private e-mails between two best friends. No talk of eating chocolate, no fuss about broken nails, just a gallop through our personal lives as we interact with a flock of freaks, a herd of hoodlums, and the occasional plankton...
Enter and EAVESDROP!!
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