Evidently that's not the case. I'm at the point where I have to acknowledge just how pissed off I am. I'm soooooooo fucking angry. So I'll vent. Surely it will help. See me assume a posture of great physical tension. Become alarmed by my threatening stature. Watch my eyebrows knit together in consternation, my face tighten up and lightning bolts shoot from my usually laughing green eyes. Observe as the steam billows out my of ears. I am The Hulk dammit! I am enraged!
"If he stayed chained naked to this post much longer, there just wouldn't be any afterward to the foreplay."
"Mavis MacPherson is locked in the bathroom and will not come out."
"I wasn't a particularly tidy child."
My Mom: "I knew you were a good writer way back when you wrote that story in the fourth grade about the talking school desks! And I so love that Toaster thing you wrote for us!"
Me: (thinking oh hell yeah, that desk story WAS way cool! and how does she remember something that old? and my mom is great for my ego when I let her be!) It's so out of the blue. If I didn't blog, I wouldn't have this opportunity.
My Mom: Well I don't understand what a blog is or why you would have one. Hal tried to explain it but I didn't get it.
Me: (thinking there is no way in hell I can explain to her why I do this, which is why I've not mentioned it to her before) It's like an on-line journal, Mom. I'm practicing writing. It's fun and interesting. I've also gotten to know some terrific people.
My Mom: I just don't understand why you'd want to put anything personal like that on the internet. If you want to write, I'll buy you a notebook, okay?
One: I have never had poison ivy.
Growing up, I attended camp many summers (thanks Mom & Dad!). One year at this one camp we were told "If you don't have poison ivy by the time you leave here, you don't get poison ivy." One by one my fellow campers would break out in a rash and troop over to the infirmary. They'd come back with the affected parts of their bodies slathered with calamine lotion. Those pale pink swatches of calamine over itchy blistering skin were worn like badges of honor. Badges that signified they were real campers.
I would inspect my arms and legs daily, waiting expectantly for my own itchy blisters to appear. They never did. I so wanted to be a real camper and have calamine swatches of my own, I actually rolled in a patch of poison ivy. How pathetic is that? But no rash. I'd not take such a risk these days.
Two: I have never broken a bone.
This story of me falling down? It is not an unusual occurrence. I'm clumsy. I fall down. Yet no matter how hard or how far or how awkwardly I may fall, I've always bounced back up no worse for the wear. (knock on wood)
I've never set out to try to break a bone. Has anyone? Well, anyone outside of that fellow who was trapped in the mountains and had to amputate his own arm to escape. Unless one was in a situation like that, it would be insane to try and break a bone. If breaking a bone were as simple as rolling in a patch of poison ivy, I may well have done it. But it's not, so I haven't. Instead I signed my friends' casts when they had them, bemoaning that I never got to wear one myself. Silly me.
Three: I have never been stung by a bee.
This one I almost achieved! One fall day when we were teenagers, my friend Molly and I were taking a cut-short through the woods. We stepped off the path a bit to smoke our cigarettes. (Yes, I was that kind of teenager!) We chatted and smoked unaware of the circumstance that would soon cause us to scream like the teenage girls we were.
One or both of us had disturbed a hive of ground-nesting bees. I remember looking down and noticing that from the crotch down, both of us were covered in bees. I was wearing sandals. My bare toes were covered in bees. We screamed. We swatted. We screeched. We flailed. We fled in opposite directions.
We found each other about twenty minutes later. Each of us had exited the woods and started walking the long way around. We met on the sidewalk of a suburban street, fairly safe from marauding insects. Ground-nesting bees do not make their home in concrete. Molly showed me three places she had been stung. My only wound was a tiny scratch from a branch recoiling as I raced through the woods. Bah.
Two face up cards are the nine of ♣ and the two of ♥.
Player bets $1.
Dealer deals the six of ♠.
Player collects $1 from pot.
Two face up cards are Jack of ♠ and the Five of ♣.
Player bets $2.
Dealer deals the Three of ♥.
Player pays $2 into the pot.
Twist 1. If either of the first two cards dealt is an Ace,
the player must specify if it is a high Ace or a low Ace.
Twist 2. If the third card dealt matches either of the
first two cards dealt, the player must pay double their
bet to the pot.
"COSTA MESA, California (AP) -- Some parents and parishioners have accused the Roman Catholic diocese in Orange County of violating church doctrine by allowing a gay couple to enroll their children in a church school.
The group demanded that St. John the Baptist School in Costa Mesa accept only families that pledge to abide by Catholic teachings, the Los Angeles Times reported in Sunday's editions. Church doctrine opposes gay relationships and adoption by same-sex couples."
"The Rev. Gerald M. Horan, superintendent of diocese schools, said that if Catholic beliefs were strictly adhered to, then children whose parents divorced, used birth control or married outside the church would also have to be banned.Thank you Rev. Horan for pointing out such an obvious double standard those parents are choosing to ignore. I mean that sincerely. Thank you.
'This is the quagmire that the parents' position represents," he said. 'It's a slippery slope to go down.' "
"Some parents have promised to ask the Vatican to intervene and some have threatened to pull their children from the school. Others are worried the boys' attendance will set a precedent, saying their presence is part of a larger effort by the gay community to change the church.Oh sure Monica. The only reason gay people jump through hoops to adopt children is so they can use them as pawns against you and your beliefs. Get over yourself already.
'The boys are being used as pawns by these men to further their agenda,' said Monica Sii, who has four children at the school."
