Fetch My Flying Monkeys

Do you know what I really hate? Rude people. I am so sick of having to deal with rude people everywhere I go. Work, on the road, grocery store, bank, it doesn't matter where you go, there's rudeness smacking you in your face. It's almost become an acceptable practice. Ever notice how we are shocked when people are actually nice instead of visa versa? Well guess what? I may have to "accept" rudeness to a degree in my day to day life, but it will not be accepted around here anymore.

I have been blogging at this site for three years. In that time I have gotten an occasional shitty comment. I moderate so it's no big deal. They are always from lonely, vile little people sitting behind a computer feeling brave with their false anonymity. They will either lash out at me, another commenter, even at my pets for Christ's sake, and they get deleted and forgotten. Well, anyway, Monday I got a shitty comment which I happened to have read while in a not so chipper mood. I am not going to write what they said, because what they want more than anything is to have their vomit printed and have a reaction. No, this one I just marked "rude comment removed" and posted my response, because we all know they LIVE for a response and return every hour checking for it. This was mine:

*** Thank you for taking time out of your busy day at Massachusetts Mutual to comment on a blog you don't know shit about. Really, thanks! I hope your bosses appreciate your genius! Here's a link back to your employer who was paying you while you were making rude comments on blogs! I bet one day they see this link to the company and wonder what brilliant employee was doing this! Most keep logs!

http://www.massmutual.com/

Have a good day!
~Laura

Yes, they commented from work at MASSACHUSETTS MUTUAL. And this is my first time doing this, and this will be my last time, but here is the person's IP info, you know, in case MASSACHUSETTS MUTUAL needs the info to give them their "employee of the month" plaque or something:

Oh, if MASSACHUSETTS MUTUAL needs something "special" like the little shit ball comment for the engraving, they can contact me. 

I do apologize to ya'll for this entry. I didn't want to do it, but I am so, so tired of people being nasty because they think there are no consequences for their actions. This is the last time anything like this will be posted on my blog. No, I'm not going to delete and forget anymore. I found a new site (thanks Sheri for the info!) that was created just for this shit-Pasty Retards. HA! Great name, eh? It just started up and I will send every nasty comment I get there with all their information. I recommend that all you folks who have blogs bookmark that and send your little trolls and nasty-ass commenters over there where they'll post IP's and maps and shit! No kidding!

Now let's get back to what my blog is all about this month week. Badgers.

Posted by Laura at 04:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (37) | TrackBacks (0)

Traxler had a very bad weekend so I took him to the veterinarian on Monday. I was standing there against the exam table, stroking Traxler's head, when the vet told me Traxler had a mass in his abdomen and given his age and condition it was time to make a decision. Then the vet left the room to give me time to think.

I never considered myself a "cat person." But Traxler was never a typical cat. Traxler was brought to me as a stray kitten over twenty-one years ago, and I took him in and he became a part of my family. Standing there petting him, feeling an overwhelming sadness coming over me, I thought to myself "Silly old cat" and tried to push the emotions out of the way and just think logically. Silly old cat. Then I thought this silly old cat had met me at the door after work every day, not wanting anything but a scratch behind his ears. This silly old cat sat on the back of my desk chair with his front paws on my shoulder purring loudly in my ear and rubbing his head against mine at every opportunity. This silly old cat played tag with me up into his twenties. This silly old cat curled up against me every night and most nights I'd fall asleep listening to his purring. This silly old cat loved me and needed me to be strong and unselfish.

I held Traxler and stroked his head and told him he was a very good boy as the veterinarian inserted the tiny needle into his leg. And as I felt his last breath leave him, all I could think was this silly old cat was my friend and family and I loved him.

**EDIT- I want to thank everyone for their kind words both here and in email. Nothing can make this easy, but having words of support does make it easier. I appreciate each and every one of you.

Posted by Laura at 04:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (61) | TrackBacks (0)

Because a lady can never have too many weapons, and INSANITY came and introduced itself to me recently, J got me this:

Seriously I think he got me this because I was telling him what I would do to INSANITY if it came down to it, and he thought this would be way less messy and he knew I always wanted one. Hey, some girls like jewelry, I like weapons.

I was giddy when I opened it and immediately tore into the package, activated it, tested the laser aim and armed it like a pro. J suggested we sit and watch the operating/safety video that came with it. Always the adult that J. So I sat there while some chic from some cop show I didn't recognize talked about the arming and safety of the device. Blah, blah, check, okay. Then she demonstrated using it while being attacked. She was walking to a car when some dude in a weird, heavily padded suit came out and went towards her. The lady pulled out the taser and yelled "Stop! I have a taser!" The man kept going towards her and she fired. She also demonstrated what to do if more than one attacked. "Stop! I have a taser!" She popped the first guy. He dropped and then she used the device as a stun gun on the others. I turned to J and told him she was doing it wrong. He asked "How's that?" and I said "You don't say 'Stop! I have a taser!' you say 'Say hello to my little friend'."

And you say it just like that.

Posted by Laura at 03:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Hearing that three talented people died.

Posted by Laura at 03:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

We became friends shortly after I started high school in Kentucky. We shared freshman homeroom and would share half a cigarette walking to the agriculture buildings (where our homeroom was located), stub it out and smoke the other half walking back to the main building. We were rebels. One day we didn't stub it out very well and smoke and flames erupted from her school jacket pocket in the middle of roll call. I ran out with her to help put the flames out and we laughed all the way through detention that semester.

We'd spend most of our time staying at each other's houses, or on the phone, talking about the boys we liked or about the girls we hated. Our summers were spent horseback riding to Nealis' store and drinking orange sodas while flirting with the boys that came in from working the farms to eat lunch. As we got older we swapped that summer activity for drinking beer, drive-by flirting/stalking and kissing/other personal things with the boys. We were hot chickies and we knew it. She knew all my secrets and I knew all hers. We were inseparable.

It was a few years after high school and she revealed to me that she liked a well known man whose family owned half the land in the county. He was older, he was rich, and he was beaten by an ugly stick twice, inside and out. He was an asshole. My only advice to her was to be careful and to have fun. I tolerated the man because she was my friend. Then one day she had to go out of town because of a family emergency for a week. It was during this week that he called my house and asked me out. Wait. I wasn't exactly asked out. He told me I could have anything in the world, a trip, cash, whatever I wanted in exchange for sex. I was repulsed. I was mortified. I told my friend after she returned. I was stupid.

She moved in with him a little while later, and life went on. I moved away and she stayed in a mansion in the holler. I heard bits and pieces about her over the years. They had a child. They never married. Her parents passed away. Her sister married and moved away. And through the years I would have flashback memories of my youth in Kentucky and she would always be a part of them.

Then one day my phone rang. A male voice asked if I was THE Laura from the little town in Kentucky. I said I indeed was and he identified himself as the older, rich, beaten by an ugly stick twice inside and out asshole. As I listened, he told me that my long lost friend was diagnosed over a year ago with cancer and all the treatments were in vain. She was dying. He told me that as he was driving her to the hospital this final time that she asked for me. He was calling me as she lay on her death bed. He told me she was pretty drugged up but asked if I would talk to her. I told him to put her on the phone.

In her groggy, medicated voice I heard the friend of my youth as she spoke my name. I don't remember everything we said to each other. I remember her saying she was sorry and that she missed me. I told her I was sorry and that I missed her. It was a quick exchange. The morphine or whatever was taking over fast. She said she had to go and I remember I told her I loved her and thanked her for being my friend and that I would see her later. He called me later that night to tell me she had passed. He said he was sorry for what he had done all those many years ago. I know the decent thing for me to have done was to tell him it was okay; to accept his apology. I didn't. I didn't say anything. I just put the receiver back in the cradle.

Posted by Laura at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

I started blogging in 2006. I guess that's what you'd call what I was doing. Mostly I posted memes and videos and goofed around (even more than I do today) on a free blogger site. Since the beginning, I had a reader/commenter named Richard who was a friendemy of my friend Gargs. He was probably the only one who enjoyed my dark humor, my foolishness and food pictures in the early days. He'd always tell me the love of my life, George Clooney, was gay. I'd threaten to punch him in the throat then we'd get bored and go torment Gargs on his blog. Through the years we stayed in touch, mostly on our blogs and through email. Last year his house burned down in one of the California wildfires, but he was lucky to have saved important stuff, which included his pets. He loved animals.

Today I found out he died last Sunday.

Even though I never met the man, I've always considered him my friend. Funny this interweb thing, huh?

This makes me extremely sad, so I've come to a decision. None of you fuckers are allowed to die before I do. I really don't care if you feel that you need to, you have to suck it up. This sentimental entry crap has got to stop. After I'm gone you all can proceed at your own pace. You can go skydive, juggle chainsaws one-handed, become missionaries in cannibal infested jungles, or have unprotected sex with Gargs.

One last Gargs-slam for Richard. I'll miss ya buddy.

Posted by Laura at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

I had an appointment this morning with my cardiologist. I have a cardiologist for three reasons. 1) My family history of my father dying in his thirties from a myocardial infarction when I was just a little baby, 2) my heart stopping in the middle of an emergency surgery several years ago, 3) a couple of years ago I had really bad chest pains that sent me to the ER. The chest pains were ruled to be heartburn. Yeah, because I'm a hypochondriac, a bowl of chili basically gave me a big ole' stomach fart that scared the hell out of me and ended up costing me hundreds of dollars in co-pays and deductibles. Damn you hypochondria!

This is my third cardiologist. I choose my doctors like I choose my friends. They have to have a personality. They have to make me laugh, and more importantly they have to "get" me. I know this may seem odd to some people, but if I don't like the doctor, I don't want to be his/her patient. I don't care what their qualifications are. I mean, as long as they didn't get their degree through an internet offer or from winning a Milton Bradley "Operation" game competition that is. Of course, I have the luxury of choosing a doctor this way because I don't have a condition that requires seeing a specific specialist.

Every time I see my cardiologist, Dr. B, we end up just talking and laughing. Today was no different. After an EKG and listening to my heart he looked in my chart and said, "Oh I see you will be (AGE) soon!" I narrowed my eyes at him and said "Hush or I'll throw you out that window." He laughed and said "Ahh c'mon, being (AGE) isn't that bad!" "Right", I replied "and landing on that sidewalk won't be so bad either." For some reason we both started laughing so hard, tears started running down my cheeks. Then he said something that actually made me glad I already had those wet eyes. He said, "Everything looks great. You have your mother's heart."

Posted by Laura at 05:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

Because I don't own a scanner, here are pictures of pictures of two of the best dogs EVER. I couldn't have loved them more if I had squeezed them out of my own birth canal. The little Schnauzer mix's name was Jessie and the Airedale's name was Agatha. I was working for a veterinarian as a vet tech when I adopted them. They had both been abandoned as sick puppies there. They went almost everywhere I went and were very social and highly intelligent. They were my best friends.

At 15 years of age Jessie was diagnosed with cancer. It was untreatable and when it became obvious that she was in pain, I did one of the hardest and most unselfish things I ever had to do. Having worked as a vet tech I saw it all the time. People would hang on too long, not wanting to let go. I didn't want to do that. She deserved better. She deserved the best. I held her as the veterinarian gave her the injection and as I felt her little body going limp, I swear to God my fucking heart broke. Three months later I had to repeat the same with Agatha.

There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss them.

Posted by Laura at 06:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

http://www.thechaistory.blogspot.com/

Sad, sad, sad.

Posted by Laura at 04:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's been a pissy week and I haven't blogged much because I didn't want to regurgitate the bile on here. The arrival of my iPhone didn't change my mood much.  Granted it made it better for a while, but sometimes life just feels like it's kicking your ass and you either have to fight back or run away. I chose the later.

I was talking to J today and we were discussing the matter of a company we are dealing with at the moment that appears to have some serious customer service issues. I asked him to deal with it because I would totally go off on them. I told him to just think WWLD (What Would Laura Do) but to take out a lot of the cursing and death threats.  I told him basically to tell them to kiss off, we'll go to the competition. I said that it's a good thing I never got that super power I always wanted (the capibility to make people's heads explode with a thought), because right about now tumbleweeds would be rolling down Columbia's streets. He said it was a good thing that my world domination plans haven't occured and that he felt like he had been instrumental in keeping my evil plans thwarted. I laughed.

Then I thought real hard about his head exploding.

Posted by Laura at 04:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)