Once upon a time, an angel named Clarence gifted me with another venue for my propensity to write. I met him through Michael, who should have been happy, but wasn't. I believe that he is now, and that makes me smile deep down inside. Along the way I met Jennifer, Lori and Phyllis after hooking up with South Knox Bubba and his pal Fletch. Big Ernie only knows how I ended up in Bend Oregon with Hoss, but I'm glad I did, dung beetles and all. Through him I met Tish and Vicki and all the rest of their groupies including, but not limited to: Many women who have made me laugh and cry over who I am, which is just.like.them. Some were pregnant and others were pullin' their fool hair out over bein' Mommy and Grandma and overworkedanduncerappreciated employees. Others, like Deb, introduced me to the joy of catching just the right flower shot with a camera. Fletch and Bubba did that too, teasing the Rocky Top Brigade with bird pictures on Friday. That's where I met Julie and CG and Frankie and Zoot. And Zoot's mom :)

Early on, it was all about rantin' for me. I learned that from my sister-in-law and fellow blogger, the rabid Republican aka Martha and her lovely hubby Rush. I will carry to my grave that feeling of euphoria when I first realized that somebody was actually listening to and hearing the sound of my soul. I do believe Raehan was the first to invite me to her birthday party. Rachel and Hannah were there, along with MommaK and her whole family plus the lovely and talented Tamara who designed my poopie little home. She had me from the outhouse, I'm just sayin'.

I must admit to blog crushes, because there have been a string of 'em. Cowboy Joe and Steelcowboy rode into my life at about the same time and I fell head over heels the first time I met each of them. Both were fiercly in love with women whom they adored, body and soul. There were kids and exes and multiple opportunities for drama. Speaking of lack of drama...sheesh. FTS lived in Texas all his life and was surprised every damn summer that he roasted his stylist ass. The boy finally got wise to climate and headed for a state where he can actually wear a sweater with his Brad Pitt lips and all. Andrew and Skunk are nearby. Karen's just a short plane ride away and..lord. Y'all have worn me out with all this drama.

My point is this, simply. Those of you who said "i hear ya" or " spewed the drink out my nose" or *snort* told me this about me....that my life counts. So many folks like Lightning Bugs Butt and Lois Lane have helped me to believe that laughter really IS the best medicine when times are tough. It's a helluva lot more pleasant to laugh than to cry and pout. Orgasms and good food are also excellent. A guy who gets all that is worth his weight in gold and countless nights of getting kicked when he snores. Hey..I'm an old lady and need my sleep like Mahala and her Ma. Some kids have all the fun being all over the world, like Mrs. Mogul and Peter. There was this hot guy in Louisiana one time who did the most talented cartooning. I believe his name was Bennett and I met him through Nolff and Indy Girl.

Zubrovka was the first to suggest b**gging to me, several years ago. My response? " What's a blog?" Heh. Smart boy, that Count Z. His best friend Christine is an artist like he is. Their stuff just makes me go "ooohhh." No shit! So do Fred and Colleen with their beloved Virginia mountain life. There have been Road Apples and Rvrguys and YaYas and their bosses. Redneck friends too. Biking girls in Philly with wild fantasies. You know the kind, right? Arrogance doesn't set well with me, particularly the self-important doctor kind. I reckon it's an occupational hazard for almost nurses.

Disclaimer: If I left your link out, consider yourself personally offended and therefore in need of a laugh or five. As Phil would say, let's put it on the table so we can put our hands on it. The beast :) Over there is where I'll ramble about growing up the Poopster. Come along with me if you feel like it. There's no sitemeter or anything. Just me and my thoughts about how I got to where I am.

I voted today, for the candidates of my choice, right before lunch with friends. Alan's persistent reminders about the sheep mentality of America and their willingness to listen to corporate lies have given me hope for something other than being told what to do when and how. The Blondes are usually right on, with the exception of that Iowa guy. All that drama over there ran Patricia off to Martini Land where she calls it as she sees it.

This potty will be reserved for the good stuff from this day forward. If I whine, smack me real hard and remind me that there's a time and place for that shit and a time to grab the bull by the horns and smile real big.

I heard it's contagious. Somebody call the CDC!!!!

^j^

P.S. Somebody needs to go check on Ivy and Jules. Texas is toast about right now. So is Tennessee. Shout out to Martha Sue and the rest of the folks at work. Love ya..mean it.