I am really trying to learn this CSS crap.  Having wanted to redo my site for quite some time, I figured I would get with the program & out of the mid-90's.  I'm ready to pull my friggin' hair out.

Looking around I see all these nice sites done with CSS.  I just don't get it.  I've been screwing sround with it for a few hours & nothing.  Not a damn thing has come of it.  I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.  Probably right about the time the next new thing comes out.  This is one of those days that it sucks to me me.

Word of the Day
fuddle - 'f&-d^&l - verb
1.  to make drunk : intoxicate
2.  to make confused : muddle

Yes, I know its early dammit, but I had to share this.  I've seen it before, but I still laugh every time someone sends it to me.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving.  I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised.  Since Ms. Stewart won't becoming, I've made a few small changes:

Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries.  After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make.  Instead, I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard.  The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork.  Since this IS thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper.  The artist assures me it is a turkey.  We will be dining fashionably late.  The children will entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims, and the turkey hotline.  Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming.  If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method.  When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like.  In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table.  In a separate room.  Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers.  This will not be happening at our dinner.  For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony.  I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any circumstances,
enter the kitchen to laugh at me.  Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress.  I have an electric knife.  The turkey is unarmed.  It stands to reason that I will eventually win.  When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that "passing the rolls" is not a football play.  Nor is it a request to bean your brother in the head with warm tasty bread.  Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce.  If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change.  Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints.  You will still have a choice: take it or leave it.

I'm still here.  I swear.  Apparently when I got sick not long ago, several other nasties saw their opportunity to take root.  With the wind blowing like it has been & my already compromised immune system, I've managed to get myself a nice little ear infection.  Blah.  Its only suppose to come in threes.  Lately, I think all my bad/icky crap has been coming in tens with a union mandated 8 hour break in between sets.

So, when I've felt up to it, I've been cleaning up around the joint.  I know.  I'm surprised myself.  Within the last couple of days I cleaned the bedroom, cleaned the bedroom carpet, moved some crates of crap in there & did laundry.  I've also been trying to get my Christmas stuff together.  Deciding what to make for who.  I know what I am making 3 people.  That only leaves a few.  Everyone else is just getting a card.  I'll make those also.  I'm addicted to Elmer's glue.

Let's keep 'em happy so they'll fatten up.  That way we have bigger, fatter turkeys when we off 'em.  That's the gist of this story.  OK, so maybe they want them to lead a quality life.  But in the end, they are still dinner.

Please note that all blinkies will be removed shortly & placed on a page within my site.  Deal with it.

That's all I can say.  Good grief.  Read this & you'll understand.

I woke up with the headache from hell.  That was at 11am.  Its now almost 6pm.

After checking all the weather crap & hoping to find a front on its way I know what caused it.  There is no front.  No pressure systems.  No anything.  That can mean only one thing.  I had a seizure when I was sleeping.

That really ticks me off.  I hadn't had one in almost a year.  I hurt all over & my head feels like its going to explode.  The combination of the two leads to one thing.  A seizure.

Now mind you, I don't have grand mal seizures.  Translation, I don't fall down, shake visibly or spit every where.  My father has a particularly nasty form of epilepsy so I leave those scary type seizures to him.  I have stress enduced partial (also called Jacksonian) seizures.  Basically, if I manage my stress, I can keep from having them.  Its an environmental thing I suppose.

I first started having them when I was working full-time in the casino industry as a shift supervisor.  Anyone that have ever worked for a casino will tell you that its just as cut throat as any other business if not more so.  Also, being a service type industry, the guests can be real bastards.  Between the politics at work & the problems I was having in my personal life, I started having seizures.

When they started, I had no idea what in the hell was going on.  I would lay down to go to bed & my left side would start shaking.  I couldn't talk or move.  I felt like I was going to shake apart, but my other half never knew it was happening.  In other words, it was internal.  I only had slight outwardly shaking.  For a while they only happened when I was going to bed or laying around watching TV.  I just figured my body was over tired.  Then one day there was a knock at the door.  The dog started barking.  I got to the door & couldn't move.  I couldn't call for my other half to come help me.  It was like I was frozen in time, but the everything around me was still going.  I could hear him yelling at me to answer the door.

That was it.  I called mom & talked to her about it.  At the time she was the assistant head of human resources & dealt mainly with the company insurance.  Turns out the insurance I had was with the same company she had.  Their headquarters also happen to be within walking distance of my apartment.  So she called someone she knew there.  Between the two of them I didn't have to have a referral & I was in to see one of the top neurologists in Vegas within the week.

This week's crush is Dick Powell.  Most of you probably have no clue who he is.  Well, I like him most from his films in the 30's & 40's.  Some of you may remember him from his later television work including Dick Powell's Zane Grey Theater (1956 - 1962; this led to the spinoffs Law of the Plainsmen & even more well known, The Rifleman) & The Dick Powell Show (1961 - 1963).  I recently watched Flirtation Walk (1934) which sparked this week's crush.

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.