I didn't even realize that today was the 40th anniversary of Kennedy's assassination.  Being from the Dallas area, this was a big thing in my family.  I remember my grandfather telling stories about the day it happened.  OK, so I don't remember the exact story he told.  I was a kid & it really bored me.  Now I wish I could remember the entire thing.

When it all happened, my grandfather, then a regional VP with the United States Postal Service, was watching from his office window.  He saw the procession go by.  Moments later history was made.  No, he didn't actually see it.  At least I don't remember him saying he did.  I remember some mention of the Hunt brothers being in his office at some point.  Of course then I had no idea who the Hunt brothers were.  It wasn't until I was older that I realized the significance of my grandfather being acquainted with them.

When I was at the clubs all the time, I drove the round about at Dealy Plaza more times than I care to think about.  The only thing it meant to me was that I was finally out of one way hell.  Otherwise known as downtown Dallas.  Just one more curve & I would be on the freeway home.

The human formerly known as my father is a huge conspiracy theorist.  My sister has followed in his foot steps.  When the Kennedy papers that are housed in Dallas were declassified, my father got me an appointment to look at 'em.  That was kind of cool even though I really had no idea what in the hell I was looking at.  We (there was a girl from school with me) were hoping to uncover something that someone missed.  Of course.  We found squat.  Eventually we got bored looking at police reports & other official type things.  Neat experience none the less.

So that's my whole Kennedy thing.  I'm sure it excited you greatly.

Miss G requested food art from today's outing.  I did my best & it can be seen here.

Seems the criminal element here in my little corner of the ghetto is acting up again.  This happens from time to time.  This time, they appear to be semi-violent.

A couple weeks ago my across-the-way neighbor was robbed at gun point & had his car stolen.  Right here in the parking lot.  Right here where the very piece of crap vehicle I ride in all the time is parked.

Apparently, that was the only car worth stealing from a complex inhabitant.  Either that or they wanted variety.  Well, variety & a pizza.  Next they called for pizza delivery.  When the guy showed up they refused it saying they never called, followed the guy to his car & then robbed him & stole his car.  Also at gun point.

The thing I find interesting about both of these is that the cars they stole were found.  They had apparently just driven around, wrecked 'em & left 'em.  Maybe its just me, but if I'm going to go through the process of robbing someone & stealing their car, out in the open mind you, with the chance of getting caught, I'm not going to be just dumping the car.  Of course, maybe I just lived in Texas for too long.  Any automobile stolen there was generally in a chop shop within minutes or Mexico within hours.

So it seems these two guys are doing it just for kicks.  That makes them that much more dangerous in my mind.  I don't know a time frame that they are doing this.  But now, I don't want to go out of the house at night.  At least not by myself.  However, I have to.  I have a dog that pees every ten minutes.  I'll just have to stick to my quad.  Guess its a good thing he's old & doesn't care for long walks.  This just adds fuel to my "I want to move the hell out of the ghetto" argument.  Maybe this time I'll win.

With my newly found paranoia set firmly in place, I must finish getting dressed.  Its Saturday which means its crab leg buffet day at the Palms.  Sure, there are other things on that buffet, but who the hell eats them?  Don't go saying, "Someone who doesn't like crab," because what the hell are ou paying extra for if you aren't going to be eating crab?  Makes no sense to me.  Also, you can possibly expect a picture or two of my ugly mug when I get home.  I know you are thrilled.

Word of the Day
hoodlum - 'hüd-l&m - noun
1.  thug; especially : one who commits acts of violence
2.  a young ruffian

Just some more useless links I thought I'd share.  Enjoy!

Nose - pick a few nose hairs
Heartless Bitches International
Grover is Bitter
Disturbing Auctions
Disco Squirrels
Arm Wrestle Freud - c'mon, you know you wanna!
Abuse-a-tron
Neat-o trick - could be considered offensive.  You've been warned.
Send a Secret Gift - this joint takes stalking to a new high.

Now what kind of Las Vegan would I be if I didn't mention the whole Michael Jackson fiasco?  A smart one.  However, I feel compelled to let you all know that one of the local news stations had stopped all regular news crap to follow the freak around.

I wanted to see some news about the embassy bombings in Turkey, but apparently, Mr. Jackson's SUV is much more important news.  This is in some way going to affect me profoundly.  It has.  The entire thing has even more cemented the idea that all news sucks for the most part.  If I want my news from now on, I'm just tuning in to KNPR.  Screw the local affiliate stations.

In case you are interested, I am currently listneing to this.  Now I just need Olga to translate what I don't know.

Recently, the fine management here at Ghetto Park Avenue (GPA) decided they needed to do something about the bald spots in the landscaping.  However, instead of paying the nice landscaping people to reseed, they decided, in all of their infinite wisdom, to do the job themselves.

Now I have no problem with anyone doing something on their own in order to save money.  That is provided they do a decent job of it & don't put anyone else out by doing it.  Well, these people are incapable of doing that.  What's even worse, they didn't feel the need to warn anyone of what they had planned.

First thing on the agenda, show mail from Troy.

* = Names changed to protect the dumbasses

Several days ago, I called my other half.  His cell phone was turned off.  It was close enough to his being off work that I thought maybe he had to work over because someone was late.  Such is the nature of the casino business.  A little over an hour later my cell phone rings.  I greet the caller with my usual cheerful, "Hello!"  I, however, am not greeted nearly as nicely.

"What do you want?"  That's what I get.  Nothing nice in the voice.  Nothing that sounds like he might be joking.  He was being a bastard.  He tells me that he left work early & went to a casino.  No big surprise there.  I think nothing about it again.  Until yesterday.

I talk to my mom all the time.  Being that she lives in Texas & I live here in hell, I always use one of the cells to call her seeing as how long distance is included.  I do use his so that my minutes won't go over & he won't bitch.  Its a win/win situation.  So, yesterday, I called my mom.  When I was done, I sat the phone down on the desk beside me, but I didn't turn it off.  A short time later, it rings.  I answered it.

"Hello!" I answered.

"Can I talk to Maynard*?" came the female voice on the other end.

"May I tell him who is calling?"

"This is Rowena*."

So, I take the phone in there to bastard boy.  At this point, I figure Rowena may be a new dealer or shift supervisor at work.  He stumbles in the conversation.  I'm standing there listening to the whole thing.  He tells this person he isn't going to do anything, he's going to bed, has to work tonight, bye.  My blood began to boil immediately.

So I questioned the existence of this person.  He tells me that she is a customer that wants him to teach her to deal.  This, in her mind, involves going around to local card rooms.  I think not.  I asked why he saw fit to give her his number.  His response was so that she would leave him alone.  He goes on to say that she is just looking for a guy that will give her money.  So, that leads me to believe she's a whore in the proper sense of the word.

Being that we rarely, if ever, answer the house phone, I asked why he didn't just give her that number.  "Because I didn't want you to get mad."  Now I was 10 times more pissed than I was before.  I told him that's what he got for attempting to be sneaky.  Then he got pissed.  Screw him.

Why did I find it necessary to get upset about this whole thing?  Because something doesn't sound right to me.  He generally, or so I thought, tells me everything that happens at work.  Even the crap I don't care about.  He never saw fit to tell me that some woman (I use the term VERY loosely at this point in time) has been trying to get into his pants.  He explains that he has no intention of doing anything with her.  At that point, I explained to him that its not what he thinks is going to happen, its what she thinks is going to happen.  He was confused, of course.  I had to explain the coochie factor.

First, I am not your psychiatrist.  Second, I'm not listening to anymore whining about people wanting to die.  I'm not going to subject myself to it.  I had calmed down considerably from this morning.  Then I read Friday's entry from today & got pissed all over again.  Not for the same reason mind you, but it just got me to thinking about it all over again.

I'm sick of hearing about people wanting to die.  You know what Skippy, I don't care anymore.  Yes, I'm that much of a bitch.  I refuse to help anyone that isn't willing to help themselves.  If you feel your life isn't worth anything, then by all means do what you feel is necessary, but don't seek help when you aren't willing to accept what is being offered or suggested.  And before you go runnin' your collective mouths, read on.

My brother died at the age of 24.  He fought EVERY single day he was alive to stay that way.  Sure, there were days that he was down & thought about the exact same thing you are.  Ending it.  At least he had good reason.  The chances that he would get that double transplant were slim, very slim.  But he overcame that.  He knew that no matter how bad it got, it could always get better.  As long as he tried to make it better. 

Just a few days before he went into the hospital for the last time, we talked about him coming to visit me when he got "fixed."  He was looking forward to it.  He wanted it.  Sure, he was scared.  He could have died during the transplant.  But he was willing to take that risk to make it better.  That's what its about people.  Risks.  If you aren't willing to risk anything, then its never going to be better.  He never had the choice that you have.  His life was taken.  Not by force, but it was just that time.  You have a choice he never had.  You have a choice that thousands don't have.  You want to throw it away, that's your choice, but I want you to know something.  You are a selfish spoiled brat if you do that.

I still cry every day over that loss.  I loved him so much.  I didn't even have a chance to say good bye.  That eats at me every day.  Sure, its not his fault, but it still hurts.  Now let me tell you about someone else.  And yes, you are going to read every last word of this damn you.

Seems that the drawl most of us Southerners are so proud of isn't recognized by the routing system put in by the Shereveport, LA police department.  I have had this problem on a couple of occasions.  Usually when I am already pissed.  That seems to be when the drawl comes out more.  Then I can't get routed where I need to be & it pisses me off more.  Screw voice technology.

What do you really need it for anyway?  I'll tell ya, because the company that has this equipment installed is full of cheap bastards.  They don't want to pay an operator what's most likely minimum wage to answer the phone.  So instead, they spend a chunk of change to have these systems put in.  Then the call still gets routed to the receptionist if your lucky.  If not, you get Joe Schmoe's voice mail.  Too bad he's in the shipping department & not customer service where you wanted to be.

Then this voice recognition crap with phones.  Are you so amazingly lazy that you can't dial a damn number?  Instead, you tell into your phone that you'd like to call Satan.  Instead, you get Stan, the cousin you can't tolerate.  HA! HA!  That's what you get you lazy ass.

I can't wait until they come out with a voice activated sex doll.  That should make for some interesting stories & lots of hospital visits.  I'm surprised the doctor's council hasn't already come up with that.  It is a way to boost business after all.  Oooh I can't wait.

Word of the Day
indolent - adjective
1.  a) causing little or no pain  b) slow to develop or heal
2.  a) averse to activity, effort, or movement : habitually lazy  b) conducing to or encouraging laziness

Yes, that's correct, this week's Crush is Cookie Monster.  Mr. Monster has taught me many, many things.  He taught me that its OK to demand cookies from my mother.  If a steady diet of cookies was OK for Mr. Monster, it was OK for me.  He taught me that it was more than OK to talk funny.  Mom said he talked funny because of a sugar overdose.  I know, however, that its just they way Mr. Monster talks.  I think one of the most important things Cookie Monster taught me was that is WAS socially acceptable to have blue hair.  For that, I thank Mr. Monster.