I just got out of the shower. Sorry for the mental imagery, but I feel like confessing to some kind of disorder I may be suffering from. No, I'm not talking about my usual kind of crazy that often shows up here that's not so "between the lines." I'm talking about some kind of addiction I have with beauty products. More specifically, bathing products.

Right this moment there are eight bottles of hair conditioner (most no more than half empty), six bottles of shampoo (again, most no more than half empty) four bottles of assorted fruit and food scented body wash, two bottles of girly shaving lotion, and a large bottle of Neutrogena Sesame Body Oil. Now these are just what's around the edge of the tub. On the over the shower caddy is two more bottles of shampoo, one conditioner, apricot facial scrub, another girly shaving lotion, an olive oil body wash, two Lady something or other four bladed razors (I guess I need backup), a bar of soap, two of those puffy mesh body sponges, a large tooth comb, and a wash cloth. Please note- I NEVER use an entire bottle of any bath product. Also, I will not list what products are in the linen closet. I'm not ready to reveal too much of this particular crazy yet. I would have taken a picture of my shower for ya'll but I knew my shower soap scum and the hair I had cleaned from the drain and threw up on the ledge would just disgust you and I don't have time to clean first. I'm on my way to Target to get some Bumble and Bumble hair conditioner. It's da bomb.

I know you guys that can wash your entire body from head to toe with a half used bar of Cashmere Bouquet soap from the Sheraton won't understand. But I'm ready to take some baby steps. I need to send all my half used products to some stinky third world, combination skinned, hairy appendaged, normal to dry haired country. Perhaps France?

Anyway, I finished late, went to bed and this morning I opened my site and gave it a once over. I can truly say that I think I have succeeded in looking like a total lunatic to the outside world. Here I have my love of guns, my whole tale of what I would do to intruders, how I would lie under oath with my fake tears of remorse, my unnatural love and obsession of a movie star (GEORGE CLOONEY), my intrigue with zombies and the Amish, and there's even spilled vodka at the bottom of the page. And this is without reading the archives about my whole world domination plans. I look like I am a total gun totin', finger condom wearin', movie star stalkin', horror movie obsessed, pathological lyin' sociopath redneck lush. YAY! Now I won't have to do an "About Me" page!

The photo challenge this week was to take a picture of one of the scariest things you own. I was going to photograph some leg warmers I own, circa 1980, but I couldn't find them. Then I remembered I had a Lady Epilator somewhere. That's a device that RIPS out unwanted hair-PAINFULLY. But I couldn't find that either. So I picked the scariest thing I had handy. This is the .38 Special that I have beside my bed. I don't particularly find it scary, but I know other people do. Or maybe it's the fact that I actually own weapons that would scare the hell out of some people. I don't know. But rest at ease folks. I'm trained, licensed and even have medals and ribbons in marksmanship. I am also not one bit afraid to use deadly force if it is called for. Yeah, I may cry like a baby when I cut my finger dicing potatoes or even on some of those long distance commercials, but I will fuck your shit up for real if you were to break into my house. Now, by YOU I don't mean YOU the reader. I mean YOU the intruder. I will empty this into you, reload, and empty it again. Then I will bash your head in with a lamp before I step past your carcass and exit the area. When I am standing in front of the judge and he asks me why I used such excessive force, I will tell him that I had watched too many horror films and know that when you walk past the body is when you get grabbed, so I was just making certain you were no longer a threat. And I'll probably shed some tears to help my case. I'll just think of one of those 'away from home at the holidays' commercials.

When the hell did this happen to me? I was always THE PERSON. THE ROCK. The one you wanted around in an emergency, the one you wanted in a foxhole with you. The one you wanted fighting beside you in case of zombie warfare. I've been through some nasty emergencies with friends and family. I sat and held pressure to wounds and waited for the ambulance with my brother that had taken a spill on the tractor and the mower ran over him! By the way, what kept him from being total ground meat was he luckily fell mostly in a ditch. Hell, I always knew I could easily pull a Rambo and suture up myself, or anyone else for that matter, with a tad of extra thread or a horse's tail hair and an upholstery needle if I had to. Many times I've taken my own sutures out just so I wouldn't have to go back to the doctors. I've held a mirror and watched the oral surgeon extract my wisdom teeth for crapsake.

But now I completely doubt myself.

This morning I changed the bandages. It was horrible because the gauze had stuck to the wound and I cried like the weak pansy ass I have become. I even had to lay down afterwards and try to find my happy place, stifling the cries into my pillow. I'm so disgusted with myself.

I would take a picture of it and post it, but I can't even bear to look at it. My previous self would have snapped pics from all angles just in hopes of grossing just one of you out. Now, I would probably pass out just looking at it through the lens. I'm such a candy ass girl. Blech.

Remember, you are on your own in the event we are attacked by zombies. I'll be the blubbering, freaked out bitch laying on the ground with a broken high heel screaming hysterically until my brain gets eaten out of my head.

The New Adventures of Old Christine

The Big Bang Theory

How I Met Your Mother

The Office

South Park

'til Death

All those link to the show's sites where you can watch the episodes online by the way.

Also, if you like egg rolls and want some at home without having any take out or delivery, these are delish. I had one for dinner. (YES! Another dinner pic!) You just bake them for like 15 minutes. But if you're Amish you won't have a freezer, so don't bother.