Disappointment Doesn't Even Begin To Describe How I Feel

I can sum up the series finale to the Sopranos in three little words.............
WHAT THE FUCK!
Here's a half assed off the top of my head ending that would have been a thousand times better than what was offered tonight.....While Meadow is trying in vain to parallel park her sports car, the guy who came in right before AJ, and the two suspicious looking dudes that followed blow away Tony, Carmella, and Aj. Meadow finally passes her parallel parking exam and comes into the restaurant just as the hit men are exiting realizing she is the only Surviving Soprano, guess you were right Meadow, you aren't as important as AJ, they couldn't even wait for you to make your appearance and gave you a pass.
UGHHHHHHHHH

This Week In Photos

A dog tag ID is wedged between panels of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, May 27, 2007. This year is the 25th anniversary of the memorial, which has etched into it the names of the 58,249 American servicemen and women who died or were lost during the Vietnam Conflict from 1959-1975.

Lawyering Up

I have to honestly say that I heard one of the most outrageous things today. I guess the father of Josh Hancock, you know the St. Louis Cards pitcher that died recently in a car accident, is filing suit against a married of individuals whom he claims contributed to his untimely passing.

At first there was a grain of credibility to the story, laying a little blame with the restaurant that according to his father kept serving him drinks even though he was intoxicated prior to the crash that killed him…well we all have seen that occur.

But there is more to this, this is just a case of a grieving father lawyering up how completely irresponsible is it for Hancock’s father to name everyone under the sun as responsible individuals in his son’s untimely death. This just take’s the “It wasn’t my fault” excuse to a disgusting new level. Don’t believe me? Read on….
Other defendants besides the restaurant include Eddie's Towing, the company whose flatbed tow truck was struck by Hancock's sport utility vehicle in the early hours of April 29; tow truck driver Jacob Edward Hargrove; and Justin Tolar, the driver whose stalled car on Interstate 64 was being assisted by Hargrove.

The lawsuit claimed Tolar was negligent in allowing his vehicle to reach the point where it stalled on the highway and for failing to move it out of the way of oncoming traffic.. And the police report said that Tolar’s car stalled because some other asshole on the expressway cut him off.
OK since when are you responsible for your car malfunctioning after some other asshole cuts you off on the expressway, are we supposed to be psychic and know when this is going to occur?

But why stop there in this blame game, let’s name the tow truck driver too, after all according to Hancock’s father he took way too long to get Tolar’s car off the express way and out of his drunk assed son’s way. Because if he hadn’t taken upwards of 15 minutes to get the stalled car out of the way, his son might still be here enjoying another drink from an adoring fan in a bar somewhere.

The Cardinals and Major League Baseball were not listed as defendants…my question…why stop there hell, you have named anyone else you can think of Mr. Hargrove. What about the Chicka he was talking to on the cell phone, I am sure she contributed just a little don’t you think, she actually voluntarily engaged in conversation with him, as opposed to individuals on the side of the road trying to take care of their own business.

No where in this statement released to the press was there an inkling of responsibility put on the shoulders of Hargrove. No mention that he had a blood alcohol content of nearly twice the legal limit when he smashed into the back of the tow truck. No mention that he was speeding , using his cell phone, and not wearing a seat belt, and that a little of the mary jane was found in his car. The whole situation wreaks of stupidity, and I think his father needs to man up and quit making excuses for his son.

Yes it’s tragic that he’s dead, but he was a participating contributor to his own death, no one held a gun to his head and forced him to make the poor decisions he made that night. In my own arrogant opinion, his father should be releasing statements that he is thankful his son did not wipe out an innocent family that day on the road.

Did he get what he deserved, no; I don’t wish such a thing on anyone. But it pisses me off that his father feels the need shove the blame onto others. But this is the trend now a day isn’t it.

Dean Hancock said he has an obligation to represent the family on all issues, "including any legal actions necessary against those who contributed to the untimely and unnecessary death." News Flash Dean, Your son contributed to his own death not anyone else! You got one thing right though, it was an unnecessary death.

Finally Someone With a Sense of Humor!

Ok the funniest thing happened at work today. So funny I wish I had been in on the planning and pulling off of this prank, but at least I was let in on it before it happened and was able to witness the chaos that occurred thereafter.
There is this one teacher in my building who constantly throws the onions from his various lunch items in the garbage of the teacher across the hall, now normally it's not an issue but in the last couple of weeks the building has begun to heat up again, and by 5th hour her room is wreaking of onions.

She's asked him to quit doing it, but he continues to do it because hell he doesn't want his room to smell like that. Having had enough of it, she devises a plan to punk him. Give him a little taste of his own onion so to say.

Now the onion wielding teacher is handicapped and well the teacher lounge in the building is on the second floor, not very easy for him to get to. So in an effort to become handicap friendly the lounge is being moved downstairs, but not without some considerable cost to the district.

So the teacher who is getting stunk out of her room by the onions each day, decides to write a letter of complaint to the handicapped teacher from a supposed concerned member of the community, questioning the validity of his "Handicap". Now this letter went into grave detail about how he does not "appear" to be handicapped, that he must be faking and that he should be ashamed that he is costing the already financially strapped district money to address the needs of a handicapped wannabe.

OK you would have thought that you started World War III, seriously it was so hard not to laugh my ass off as he went around the building complaining in a insanely loud voice, I will sue this muther fucker. In a matter of all of one hour he showed the letter and complained with some very descriptive expletives to exactly 10 teachers, the Superintendent, both principals, even the waitress at the coney place where he gets all those onions he doesn't want.

When he went as far as to call The Union Rep to get the paperwork going to actually sue this fictional individual that's when they let him know it was really just a joke....hell they really thought he would get to the end of the letter and realize it was a joke when the word "ONION" was worked into the name of the person complaining, and each letter was in BOLD.

Anyway it was a hysterical way to end the day, I came around the corner and saw the three of them laughing, well two of them at least, the guy that got punked was not laughing, and I just smiled ear to ear. At that point, he says to me, "Kat, you knew about this too, Kat you little bitch" followed by hysterical laughter.

Look......... after working on a team of "Women" who have the personalities of nats, it was nice to laugh, and the ironic thing about all of this, I am going to be on the letter writers team next year. Oh Yes! I think I am going to have some fun! Karma sweet Karma.

I Definately Feel Better Now

Had a little convo with a former teacher yesterday about the cunt in question in my last post, seems there is a history there of he just being a bitch to any teacher she works with, including the members of the team that she supposedly think like her. So yes, misery loves company and well I have adopted the Fuck it attitude, plus hell there is one week left in school and I don't have to work with this woman for at least another yeah, yes there is sweet irony.

I Feel Much Better Now

I hate cowards, yes I said cowards, in particular people who belive hearsay. I work with a woman who although I would assume is of relative intelligence (and I use the term losely), completely has no common sense. Once again she takes what a student says as the gospel truth and builds this whole prosecution against me to complain about to the administration.

Supposedly to this wench I sit in my classroom all day and do nothing, and how does she come to this conclusion? She asks my Language imapired students that's how. Now in my students defense it may appear to them I am doing nothing, after all I am sitting at my desk and moving papers around, to them it looks like nothing because well that's exactly what they do all day.

But they don't notice the six inch deep pile of paperwork that I have just finished working on, paperwork that is required of my job, that I don't get paid to do at home, and they don't know that I spend an average of 2 hours a day of my own time at home on paperwork also because well there is never enough time in the day to finish it. But that't not their fault they are kids and well developmentally delayed kids at that.

So what is the bitch's excuse that runs to the administration with this little tid bid of information to complain about me's excuse....oh I guess what a student says is the gospel truth hugh?, well if we want to play the hearsay game then I have a few little nuggest of "truth" to tell you about what they claim you say about me and them. Hummm the hearsay game isn't so fun now is it?

But no I am not going to stoop to your level, I have the professionalism to come to you if I were to even take what any student says with a grain of salt. No, I form my opinions on the "truths" what I witness, and hear. I don't take the cowards way out and run to higher ups to complain about something that is totally unfounded....If I am doing "nothing" I hate to see a teacher that is doing "something". You are one to talk, making the kids correct their own tests, and papers so you don't have to drag paperwork home with you. Some of us are not as lucky, or should I say selfish, we actually want to use instuctional time to instruct, not get out of our own paperwork.
So here's some hearsay for you.....you're a cunt....must be true the kids said it.

Freedom is not Free

I went to Mass with my Mom on Mother’s Day not an unusual event in itself really. But what unfolded during that mass was eventful, at least to me it was. I have really been obsessed with watching the news lately. Anderson Cooper 360 and CNN tends to be on constantly. I find myself noticing the headlines of the world news online more than I have in the past, suicide bombers, car bombs, and the like. Now I am not a complete fool, and I don’t just listen to what the media has to say, I am interested in what the soldiers have to say too.

So when I woke up Sunday morning I read and heard about the 4 soldiers that were killed in an attack near Mahmoudiya, south of Baghdad, and the three soldiers that remain missing even at the time of this posting. I couldn’t help but think that there were probably quite a few Mothers sick with worry wondering if it was one of their sons that was captured, or worse being informed their son had been killed.

I have to admit that I have not been an informed citizen since the invasion of Iraq began, and I am quite sure it is for the same reason that most of America remains uninformed, we have become complacent. How many of us really give a fuck about what is going on over there? This country has the attention span of a nat when it comes to something that does not affect us personally, all we can do is bitch about gas prices and wonder when our wallet is going to get a break. We go about our lives getting up in the morning, driving to work, watching American Idol on our 60 inch plasma televisions and don’t think twice about our troops being slaughtered on a daily basis, and for what? Until this war becomes “personal” for mainstream America I don’t see that much will be done to keep our troops from being led to the slaughter.

Our complacency is killing our troops everyday, over 3,000 in have died in this war already, in a war that many of us can’t even intelligently verbalize why we are fighting. Did it ever occur to our government that not everyone in this world wants needs or even desires a free and democratic society? Or that it is even feasible? .But complacency is easy and well it is the status quo as our government continues to occupy a county and allow your young men and women to die. Consider a withdrawal? Of course not, that would admit defeat in a situation where victory in my opinion is not even possible, or desired by the individuals our troops are dying for.

So we wait, we wait for our sons and daughters to come home, hopefully of sound mind and body. I was able to witness that during mass on Sunday. A young man from our parish surprised his Mother by unexpectedly appearing by her side as Mass began. She had no idea he had been released from his deployment, that he was coming home; I can’t tell you the mixture of emotions she exhibited, joy, relief, pride, thankfulness all wrapped up in one when she saw him standing there in his dress blues. But my thoughts are of the other Mother’s who weren’t as fortunate that day, whose visit from a uniformed officer was not as joyous. So we end the service by lighting a candle, a candle for the missing soldiers, the families of the dead servicemen, and for the young men and women preparing to go to war to replace them. Freedom is never Free.

What are the Odds?

I asked someone what their favorite song was recently and their response was a little suprizing for me, considering the gender of this person. Then I was reading some random blogs and I just happen to run accross this blog post and it was about the same song. What are the odds of that? Who know's but it is kind of funny so I decided to post it. Disclaimer***I am in No way making a judgement here, listen to what ever you want, I just think this is a funny post...ok well... it is a chick song and that is all I have to say about that, not that there is anything wrong with listening to chick music....when you are a guy...ok here's the post.

GUILTY FEET HAVE GOT NO RYTHM.

I was coming to work on Saturday and like all days I needed to get a cup of coffee. Also like most days, I went to Seattle's Best Coffee (It's Seattle's best! it's in the name). So I go and order my Large Coffee with lots of room. (Oh regular coffee has lots more caffeine and is a lot cheaper then a latte). I take off my iPod to order the coffee because it's rude to talk to people with headphones in.

The person serving me is new and there for she doesn't know me. I say hello and let her know where I work (I get a discount). After a couple minutes of unimportant chatter, she asks what I have in my hand. I tell her it's an iPod, amazed at her lack of knowledge of the super popular digital music player.

She asks to see it and immediately I oblige her to spread the greatness that is the Apple iPod. After giving it the once over, the young lady notices the screen on the "Now Playing" screen. A quick glance back it followed by, "George Michael, huh?" while handing the iPod back. I do indeed notice that Careless Whispers by Wham is playing (I have it labeled as by George Michael).

I first try to play dumb, "oh that is what's playing?" Then I try to play it off. "oh it's on shuffle." Then I just start to mumble, "uhh, yeah hmm" After that there is nothing else to do. I say, "I listen to lame music," drop my head in shame and leave the coffee shop. I grabbed my coffee but I left my pride. Be careful, when you hand your iPod to strangers. I have worse than that on there.

So fess up what secret music do you have on your iPod

As Anderson Said: Dude You're Stoned!

Ok I don't know what's worse, having a friend email me a link of a video of a gangsta in Detroit beating down a 91 year old that he is trying to carjack, or hearing the following story on none other than Anderson Cooper 360 last night. Yes it has not been a good PR week for the Ghetto...however the story below is quite entertaining...and well yes I live amongst some stupid individuals. And I think they should play this 911 audio tape in every school classroom as a public service announcement on how drugs make you STUPID!



Police officer Edward Sanchez of Dearborn, Michigan made some pot brownies with his wife and got so paranoid that he called 911 for fear they were dying. The recording of the 911 call is absolutely insane. From a transcript:
Sanchez:I think I'm having an overdose. and so is my wife.
911: Overdose of what?
Sanchez: Marijuana...
Sanchez: We made brownies. and I think we're dead. I really do...
Sanchez: Time is going by really, really, really slow...
Sanchez: What's the score in the Red Wings game?
911: I've got no clue, i don't watch the Red Wings.
Sanchez: I just wanted to make sure this isn't some kind of hallucination I'm having.
Edward, You should have listened to Nancy and just said No.

Retirement

I have this one pair of jeans that I absolutely love, and well this weekend as I was pulling them out of the dryer to slide on I noticed that they’ve become precariously worn. Yep can see that their days are numbered, it’s kind of sad to think they will soon be so worn out that I won’t be able to wear them.
Although I don't quite understand why, I love my jeans and feel defined by them in a way I don't feel about any of my other clothes. Just putting them on - which I do everyday when I get home from work - makes me feel a little bit excited about life. And as pathetic as it sounds, Friday mornings just don’t feel as depressing when I know I can slide those puppies on with a pair of heels and head off to end the work week. It’s like a little incentive to make it through the day, and when it’s a payday then the pot is even sweeter.
Perhaps it's something to do with holding onto youth, because your first pair of proper jeans is a major rite of teenage passage. The designer jeans were the big thing when I was a teenager and well I have to admit I fell under the peer pressure to wear them, you know the ones that were guaranteed to make you look thinner, sexier, more intelligent. But my jeans of choice are now Levi’s, low riders, boot cut….I love these jeans! And they look fantastic on me if I do say so myself.



You might be thinking…just go buy another pair, well it’s not that simple, first it is a rarity to find that perfect pair of jeans, you know the one’s that fit you perfectly like a glove, flawless. And well finding another pair is basically a quest for the Holy Grail. Well not that dramatic but it is a task for sure. So I guess I know what is on the agenda for this weekend, let’s hope the jean God smiles on me.

I smell something burning...humm what could it be...oh it's my boys burning up the American Leauge Central Division...Yup that's right, time for me to brag a little on my Tigers. I have to say they are giving it their all and not without their share of adversity this season. It's good to know they are actively proving their race for the World Series last season was not some cosmic joke, or fluke.

With Rogers being on the disable list till at least the all star game many felt that the team might not hold it together till he returned. Not so, the players stepped it up in his absence and have played good hard baseball all season long.

This past week another pitching fatality---Joel Zumaya, our 100 mph plus relief pitcher ruptured a tendon in his pitching hand requiring surgury. Another one bites the dust. And on a less serious note Jeremy Bonderman cut a finger on his pitching hand this week pulling him off the starting line up for tonight.

Regardless, the boys are currently in first place a game and a half ahead of the Indians. I don't care who you are, this division is tight. If you look at the other divisions in the American Leauge and watch the standings, neither one of the other divisions are duking it out back and forth daily for that coveted fist place position. It's what makes the game fun. Keep kicking ass!
Ce-Ce emailed me this pic of Pudge with the caption "Umm, could you remove your hand from my junk, I think you are enjoying this a little too much"

The Gift

He handed me a box, a small black fuzzy box, almost light as air. Along with the box came a card. It's not an unexpected gift, more like a tradition. I know the contents already. Having already recieved 6 of these familiar gifts, one annually at this time of the year.

I recieved that first fuzzy box on Mother's Day 2001, barely pregnant with Aiden. It was supposed to be the start of a romantic tradition, a pearl to represent the beginning of a life. One to be added to the collection for each year of his life, to be given traditionally every Mother's Day.

Fate didn't provide for that opportunity to be a joyous one, and each year as I open the box and the accompanying card, it all just seems so bittersweet. So I slide the pearl onto the chain, a physical reminder that it's been six long years since my attempt and ultimate failure at parenthood. I open and read the card, and temporarliy put aside my jadded opinions of the giver of this gift, relishng in the compasion being afforded me this day. I despertely want to believe time can heal all wounds.

Moma Mia

Well it is officially Mother's Day. And this year this tradition of celebrating Motherhood seems a lot less cliquce than usual for me. This is the first time I think I really appreciate this typical selfabsorbed Hallmark Card Holiday.

I have been thinking a lot about my relationship with my Mom over the years. I think Mother daughter relationships go through distinct phases. As you move though your childhood on your way to becoming an adult the relationship is molded, as a child I thought my mother could do no wrong, god I idolized her. As a teenager I squabbled with her at every turn, it was almost a challenge for me, every word she said struck a nerve.I really was an ass.

But Now, as an adult, perhaps I've realized that my Mom can be an ally - and maybe even a friend. It amazes me how she can read me. How she can know, with just one spoken word my mood, whether I am anxious, sad, or worried. Too bad I can't find the strength to share the details of events that percipitate those feelings with her, instead of just acknowledging that I am feeling them.

The mother-daughter relationship has been called the strongest bond in human history, I definately think mine is moving in that direction.At least I hope so. In hindsight I wish I hadn't wasted so much time being indifferent to our relationship, time wasted that can't be retrieved. Time I am sure to one day reget letting slip away.

I love you Mom, Happy Mother's Day
Kat

Virtual DNA

I found this neat site where you can create your virtual DNA, it was kinda fun, I had it on here before but for some reason it wasn't showing my comments on the pictures I picked....so I redid it and put it on here, it's all the way on the bottom of the page above the 2000 bloggers widget...you can click on it to create your own if you want. Just thought it was cool and that I'd share...ok at least act like you are remotely interested would ya.

The Dance

I have sent you my invitation, the note inscribed on the palm of my hand by the fire of living. Don't jump up and shout, "Yes, this is what I want! Let's do it!" Just stand up quietly and dance with me.

Show me how you follow your deepest desires, spiralling down into the ache within the ache. And I will show you how I reach inward and open outward to feel the kiss of the Mystery, sweet lips on my own, everyday.

Don't tell me you want to hold the whole world in your heart. Show me how you turn away from making another wrong without abandoning yourself when you are hurt and afraid of being unloved.

Tell me a story of who you are,
And see who I am in the stories I am living. And together we will remember that each of us always has a choice.

Don't tell me how wonderful things will be . . . some day. Show me you can risk being completely at peace, truly OK with the way things are right now in this moment, and again in the next and the next and the next. . .


I have heard enough warrior stories of heroic daring. Tell me how you crumble when you hit the wall, the place you cannot go beyond by the strength of your own will. What carries you to the other side of that wall, to the fragile beauty of your own humanness?

And after we have shown each other how we have set and kept the clear, healthy boundaries that help us live side by side with each other, let us risk remembering that we never stop silently loving those we once loved out loud.

Take me to the places on the earth that teach you how to dance, the places where you can risk letting the world break your heart. And I will take you to the places where the earth beneath my feet and the stars overhead make my heart whole again and again.

Show me how you take care of business without letting business determine who you are. When the children are fed but still the voices within and around us shout that soul's desires have too high a price, let us remind each other that it is never about the money.

Show me how you offer to your people and the world the stories and the songs you want our children's children to remember, and I will show you how I struggle not to change the world, but to love it.

Sit beside me in long moments of shared solitude, knowing both our absolute aloneness and our undeniable belonging. Dance with me in the silence and in the sound of small daily words, holding neither against me at the end of the day.

And when the sound of all the declarations of our sincerest intentions has died away on the wind, dance with me in the infinite pause before the next great inhale of the breath that is breathing us all into being, not filling the emptiness from the outside or from within.

Don't say, "Yes!"
Just take my hand and dance with me.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing
It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon
I want to know if you have touched
the center of your own sorrow
If you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fix it
or fade it

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithful
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
everyday.
And if you can source your own life
from it's presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
And shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know were you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what
or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The Quest for Self Actualization

There is a theory that I studied extensively in college, Maslow’s Hierachy of Needs. This theory contends that as an individuals basic needs are met, they seek to move up or satisfy higher needs within the hierarchy. The basic concept is that the higher needs in this hierarchy only come into focus once all the needs that are lower down in the pyramid are mainly or entirely satisfied. Self growth creates an upward movement in the hierarchy, whereas regressive behavior pushes needs further down the hierarchy.

I'd like to believe that people that you connect with help you along all levels of the Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, including the ultimate goal of self-actualization. When you simply aren't able to communicate with someone on a fundamental level, be it language or difference of beliefs or opinions or personality, it completely undermines your ability to achieve the last level or two of needs.

Sooner or later, you feel like you're missing something, and you feel empty or inadequate. Be it your faith or that connection you have with people, or that burning desire to find your own place in the world, I think that the people I get along with the best make all levels of the pyramid seem within reach.

Maybe it'd be easier to think of it like ladders going up the pyramid. Each person you meet is a ladder of a different height. The ladders of the people you truly connect with are a lot taller and oftentimes seemingly insurmountable. To get where that ladder will take you seems precarious and risky. But you know it can take you higher up than the shorter ladders you've been climbing.

When you've fallen off of a high ladder, you're wary of climbing up another one whose top you can't see. You settle for small ladders and you get to the top and realize you probably could have gotten that far on your own. And those people serve their purpose, don’t get me wrong, but I really feel that for the most part very few people really “get me”.

As humans, we're bound to slip now and then. Tonight I looked down and was unnerved by how high up the ladder I was going. The journey up the high ladders is seldom easy, otherwise we'd all be doing it all the time. There is a quote that goes "I never said it would be easy, I only said that it would be worth it."

It may take you longer than you had hoped, but every rung higher is a step closer. It may be treacherous at times, and you will feel that you can't go on, but you have to have faith that the solid foundation that you built will hold. That the journey you've embarked upon is worthwhile. Life isn't just about the destination, but the journey. And you should enjoy every ambiguous step and not be in such a rush as to miss out on what is unfolding around you.

Making a Difference One Impressionable Mind at A Time

This is National Make a Difference week... You know when you are supposed to do an unselfish act for complete strangers. Not being one to be left out of this national feel good movement I stepped up to the plate today.

Yep spread some valuable knowledge to the undereducated, you might say "Kat you do this everyday in the classroom"...yes this is true and well I am paid to do that, so it doesn't count. It's kinda like a paramedic saying "hey I saved life today" it's your job.

No this was a random act of sharing my vast wealth of knowledge to the unfortunately dumb..well I wouldn't say dumb just uninformed. So as Simon would say "off you go" or in other words get on with it.

I stopped at the gas station at lunch time to buy a snack and as I was checking out a little girl about 8 yeas old came up to the counter and announced to me "I'm buying coke and mento's so I can make an explosion".

That's where my good deep came in. I bet you're thinking I tried to discourage here attempts at making a dangerous projectile rocket right? Nope- Instead I told her that it wouldn't work unless she used "Diet Coke"

Wouldn't want that cute little munchkin to be all disappointed when she go home now would I? No, instead I gave her valuable knowledge that could lead to possible eye injuries or even brain damage....Part of me was hoping my name badge wasn't visible and I'm not brought up on charges of contributing to the delinquency of a minor, or child endangerment.

OK I don't think I really made a difference today......or did I? Who knows I may have just encouraged a young mind to pursue a career in chemistry, yeah right.

Buck ME

OK you gotta Love this guys sense of Humor!!!!
What Kind of Degenerates do I associate with??
Ones with a wicked sense of humor!!

Scared of Santa Gallery

Ok so it is that time of year, you know when the parents pack the kids up tote them to the mall and sit them on the lap of some fat dude with a fake white beard who always seems to enjoy the fact that a kid is sitting so close to their junk.

And we wonder why the kids freak out??? Take a look at a these hysterical moments caught on film for prosperity, yeah I am sure the kids will get a kick out of it when they are adults, and will no less do the same to their own kids, but then again some of these kids look like they might be in need of some serious therapy!


Ok the older brother is just enjoying this too much !!!


I don't care if this guys beard is real, get me off his lap!!!!



Please don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't leave me !!!!!!!!!!



Sheer Terror!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



If I hold my breath long enough maybe he will go away!!! Going to my happy place!


Mommy Santa smells like cheep wine.


Twin Terrors

You gotta love a kid at Christmas time!!! Hope you enjoyed!!!