Wednesday, December 23, 2009
God Bless Us All
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Killer Dolls?
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Tweet the Meat - Update
Monday, December 14, 2009
Tweet the Meat
http://twitter.com/tweetthemeat
You now have 23 minutes to prepare yourselves for spectacularness.
Christmas Tree
I finished decorating and writing out my Christmas cards. My daughter, son-in-law and grandson visited this weekend to help. My parents visited to see the baby.
Nicholas at The "Other" Chrysalis Stage.
Wassail at Esoteric Uncovered.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Unconscious Mutterings – The Expanded Version
I free-associated the replies then went back and expanded the thoughts.
These are from Week 358.
I say ... and you think ... ?
- Hotter :: than hot! – At sixteen, while visiting friends in Vienna, we went to a Beer Cellar. Our waiter, a dark haired, dark eyed gypsy was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Part of it may have been the way he had of looking at me, like I was the only person in that busy room. The only person I’ve seen that comes close is Rodrigo Santoro, although my gypsy had black eyes.
- Negotiator :: Terminator – My response for this comes from have to deal with negotiators who give large sums of money to people who file bogus claims, settling just because it is cheaper than fighting.
- Crimson :: Tide – I believe this is football, maybe Alabama.
- Loses :: Wins – I prefer winning. Don’t we all? But we learn more from losing.
- Tide :: Detergent – I must do laundry this weekend. I have a severe Boo-boo face. You may recall, I requested a maid for Christmas.
- Alan :: Ladd – I think he was a director. I don’t know many Alans or Allens.
- Fool :: Tarot – My favorite card. It represents adventure, change and growth, along with child like curiosity and vision.
- Pink :: Panther – He makes pink look good.
- Palm :: Sunday – Palms, Pussy Willows and herbal bouquets tied with ribbons.
- Lipstick :: Hiding – I have never worn lipstick or much of any makeup. I never felt right in it. I do use lip balm. I have no problem with others wearing makeup. I just feel better without it.
Scarlet at Esoteric Uncovered.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Big Ole Doody Head
Maybe it was because the comment was on one of my more autobiographical posts or that no one has been mean to me in the four years I've been posting. I could blame it on The Menopause. I guess I just got my drugs mixed up and took too many sensitivity pills.
After reading your comments and downing several extra strong Woo Woo's, I took your counsel and washed that grey right out of my hair. My life can't compare to Sarah Palin's. Despite the fact that I'm a big, ole, whiney, doody head, I am blessed with the bestest blog buddies in the world. And I want to go kick the ass of anyone who hurts you guys.
The Ghost of Christmas Present at Esoteric Uncovered.
Six Word Saturday at The "other" Chrysalis Stage.
Friday, December 11, 2009
You're Nuts
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Guess Who's Birthday It Is?
Car Goes Boom
Doug from WAKING AMBROSE remembered when I told the story about running into the back of an armored car (item number 5 on my list) way back on January 23, 2007. It’s interesting to see who of those that commented are still visiting here (I love you, guys.)
I reprint the story now (and it also tells the story of item number 8 on my list):
The Bread Truck
The story you are about to hear is a cautionary tale. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent (namely me) and no animals were hurt in the telling of this tale. Professionals did not do the stunts, but don’t try this at home anyway; that would be pure craziness. Remember children: drugs and alcohol don’t mix; use them separately. ~ ~ ~
Things were different in the late seventies. People drank. People drugged. People sexed. People danced. These things happened openly and with a great sense of pride and excitement. You could walk into any office and see lines of coke running parallel across the desk of a company’s president with his workers ranged around him, everyone imbibing. People carried pills around like they were Valentine’s Day confections. Disco bounced and gyrated the bodies of silkily dressed girls and tight pantsed, polyester clad boys. Men wore gold chains around their exposed chests and knuckle rings with big stones on manicured fingers. Women went braless in all of their natural low cut bounty. Life partied heartily.
I came from a very middle class background and found it all fascinating. I flitted from one experience to another, marveling at the alien world I saw other people living.
One of the places that always fascinated me was Go-Go bars. We call them Gentlemen’s Clubs now. I got a job running the business side of the bar. I booked the dancers, ordered the alcohol, hired bartenders and kept the books. The owner always tried to get me to dance or tend bar. He thought a buxom blonde would be good for business. I politely declined as both positions required fewer clothes than I wanted to wear.
I got to know the women who danced (and other things) in these bars. I searched for the poor woman who danced to support her child or the one who tried to better her self by making money for college. Somehow these women never materialized. Most of these girls hooked from one drug hit to the next. Glamour didn’t party with any of them; desperation, heartache and addiction sat on barstools and twisted around poles.
Through one of these women, I found a doctor in Philadelphia who specialized in weight loss using “real” diet pills. Pink, white and green pills gave me energy and took away my appetite. I took sixteen of these in various combinations throughout the day. At night, blue pills would calm my body down enough for it to relax but they had the opposite effect on my mind. Under regular circumstances my dreams are peopled with fantastic beasts and heroes of epic proportion. While taking these prescription sleeping pills, monsters that made Godzilla look like a baby bunny chased me and psychopathic killers lusted after my loved ones. I stopped taking the sleeping pills.
I quit eating (but I looked good.) I slept about an hour a day and some people said I talked to myself in long drawn out and involved conversations. I went for a week like this.
The Go-Go bar owner had a party one night. It was the first time he allowed me to socialize with the dancers, bartenders and patrons. The owner bought drinks for everyone. Men showered me with attention, being the new girl in the group. I drank liberally and soaked up the sweet words directed at me. I became giddy with drink, pills, a lack of food, sleep and accolades. One man even sang to me.
When the bar closed at two, the party moved to an all-night club that had live bands. I drove myself and a few other party goers. We danced and drank until the sun came up. We went to a diner for breakfast. Toast and home fries tasted great after not eating for a week.
I drove home as the sun rose. I gave a lift to one of the dancers who went out with us to the late night club. The air chilled us and the dancer needed her rest, so we kept the radio off and the heat on and all of the windows closed. I’m so considerate.
Someone screamed in my sleep. I woke up slowly, wondering where all of the noise came from and who disturbed my peaceful slumber. I was cozy in the warm car and hadn’t felt this good in months. I heard screaming about someone being dead. I peeked out of my eyes.
On the left, out of the driver’s side window, the dancer ran up and down the highway, trying to flag down other drivers. Through the windshield and on the right, I saw trees. One tree even bent over the hood of the car. I went back to sleep.
I heard some tapping which I totally ignored. I was having some sort of sweet dream and I did not want to be disturbed. The tapping was accompanied by someone calling my name. Someone in a uniform leaned over me and opened the driver’s door. Other people in uniforms lifted me onto a stretcher.
I recognized that some of the people were emergency workers and others were policemen. The policemen kept asking me questions about what happened and wanted to know if I had been drinking. I giggled at that questions and answered honestly about partying all night long.
“Do you know what happened here?” asked one of the policemen.
“I fell asleep,” I answered.
“Do you know you hit something?” asked the other officer.
“Yes, I think I do.”
“Do you know what you hit?”
“I ran into the back of a Wonder bread truck.”
First, there was silence then everyone burst into laughter. The policemen, the ambulance workers, the other drivers who had stopped were all laughing at me.
“What’s so funny?” I mumbled in my half dozing state.
“You ran into a bread truck, alright,” said one of the cops, “you hit the back of an armored car.”
~ ~ ~
I suffered a fractured sternum and whiplash. The innocent dancer had a cut on her forehead. The car did not survive. No tickets were issued and no one lost their license. I gave up pills, cut down on my drinking and quit my job at the Go-Go bar.
* * *
Quilly’s Three Word Thursday at The “other” Chrysalis Stage
Thursday 13 at Esoteric Uncovered
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
How to Cure a Hangover
Monday, December 07, 2009
Monday Mayhem
Sunday, December 06, 2009
MacSpeech
I so wish I had a Mac so that I could get the MacSpeech
At the end of a long, hard day, it would be lovely to sit back in my chaise and just dictate my novel into my computer. As light as a keyboard is, sometimes it can be heavier than I can manage and my fingers and wrists sure could use a rest, too.
Plus, for a multitasker like myself, I can envision crocheting or sewing and still “writing” at the same time. Or even dictating a story while completing all of those really boring tasks like folding laundry or doing dishes. I might even dust if I could get a story written at the same time. It would be like having my own personal secretary. And I wouldn’t have to submit payroll taxes to the government.
Site - Wide Disclosure Policies
This blog is a personal blog written and edited by me. For questions about this blog, please contact goldennib@gmail.com.
This blog accepts forms of cash advertising, sponsorship, paid insertions or other forms of compensation.
This blog abides by word of mouth marketing standards. We believe in honesty of relationship, opinion and identity. The compensation received may influence the advertising content, topics or posts made in this blog. That content, advertising space or post will be clearly identified as paid or sponsored content.
The owner(s) of this blog is compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. Even though the owner(s) of this blog receives compensation for our posts or advertisements, we always give our honest opinions, findings, beliefs, or experiences on those topics or products. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the bloggers' own. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer, provider or party in question.
This blog may contain content which might present a conflict of interest. This content may not always be identified.
To get your own policy, go to http://www.disclosurepolicy.org
Saint Nicholas Puppets
Today is Saint Nicholas Day. I made one of these felt hand puppets for my great-nephew, Brandon (4 years old) and one for Nicholas, my 2 1/2 month old grandson. They found these in their shoes this morning (placed outside their bedroom doors.) The hat, mittens and belt are removable.
The Real Saint Nicholas at Esoteric Uncovered
Let It Snow at the “other” Chrysalis Stage
Saturday, December 05, 2009
What Does Santa Say?
Santa is very jolly because he knows where all the bad girls live. ~ Dennis Miller
I didn’t say it, Dennis did.
At least, I behaved with the picture.
Six Word Saturday at the “other” Chrysalis Stage.
The Ghost of Christmas Past Esoteric Uncovered.
Friday, December 04, 2009
Friday Fill-Ins
2. Death followed at once by joy.
3. The trouble is I fart.
4. In a world many miles away.
5. With a faint pop I opened my can of soda.
6. Vampires are shadowy and ominous.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to total vegitating, tomorrow my plans include Christmas decorating and card making and Sunday, I want to read!
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Name That Christmas Song
What Christmas song does this picture represent?
Blog of the Week Thank-you at the “other” Chrysalis Stage
Thursday Thirteen - Christmas Tree Traditions from Around the World at Esoteric Uncovered.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Rabbit, Rabbit – Hot Footin’ It
Blue Rabbit: What do you do for good luck?
Pink Bunny: Run.
I wish you lots of running in December.
* * *
A Simple Good Luck Charm at Esoteric Uncovered
NaNoWriMo Busted at the “other” Chrysalis Stage
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thursday Thirteen – Survived Another Year
For other thirteen’s, wander over to Alice’s.
“Made it through another year.”
[thirteen tail feathers]
The Real Wild Turkey at Esoteric Uncovered
Thanks at the “other” Chrysalis Stage
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thanksgiving MeMe
I looked around for a Thanksgiving MeMe and I didn’t like any of them exactly the way I found them, so I did some turkey style carving and loaded my plate with what I wanted.
1. Where?
My house. We switch each year between here and my brother’s house (he goes to his wife’s family every other year.)
2. What?
A traditionally roasted twenty pound turkey with savory bread stuffing in the bird and in a pan, heaps of mashed potatoes, buckets of gravy, Brussels sprouts with brown butter onions and toasted slivered almonds, white and yellow corn, Alice’s Carrot Salad, whole berry cranberry sauce and jellied cranberry sauce, mini sweet gherkins, baby kosher dills, black olives, green pimento stuffed olives and mild pepper rings, crescent rolls, apple pie and vanilla ice cream and pumpkin pie with whipped cream (pies supplied by my parents.)
3. Who? My mother and father, me and my husband, my aunt and uncle, my daughter, her husband and my grandson (I have turkey flavored formula for him) and my niece and her boyfriend.
4. When? Arrival is approximately 1 PM and dinner is at 3 PM (if I get the turkey in on time.) My parents and aunt and uncle will leave for home by seven, my daughter and her family will spend the night and my niece and her boyfriend will leave upon her whim.
5. How? The food will be set out as a buffet and then we will sit down together at one large table .
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunny Sunday #7 – Say a Sunny Thank-You
(Sharpie ® on tracing paper)
And here, for your pleasure, is the silly poem:
Thank You, God,
for the great bounty of Your blessings:
enough clothes for multiple dressings,
luscious food that is much better than gruel,
a big comfy house warm with lots of fuel,
a family always ready to defend
and loyal, happy, silly friends,
a warm and loving spouse of a honey
and a job that gives me plenty of money,
a warm and gifted daughter child
and troubles small and very mild.
I have generally wonderful health
that is more important than excessive wealth.
I have been graced with many talents
and a joy in them that keeps me in balance.
You have helped me keep my loved ones close
and I know that's what matters most.
You helped me find this blogging universe
filled with people kind and diverse.
There's my cute Cody puppy
and I'm glad I was never a yuppie;
and lest You forget,
there's the Lear I haven't gotten yet
and for everything I forgot,
I thank You a whole lot.
See my New Moon Movie Review Here
Come back here to comment where it’s easier, if you want.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Not 2012's End of Time
All Mixed Up
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
A Poem a Day #14 Love & Not Love
First prompt: Write a love poem.
You
Please
Thank-you
I'm sorry
You first
Let's share
Remember when...
Let's try again
This is for you
I thought you
might like it
Can I get you
something
You rest
You deserve it
You make me
smile
You make me
laugh
You are the
heart of me.
Poem by Vanessa V. Kilmer © April 14, 2009
Second prompt: Write an anti-love poem.
Your Fault
Pain
Bruises
You are ugly
You are stupid
You are worthless
You made me do it
You are useless
You are dumb
You are fat
Tears
Pain
Poem by Vanessa V. Kilmer © April 14, 2009
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
And be sure to treat yourself to this video by clicking on the word DREAM. I guarantee you will not regret it and this woman's dream deserves to come true. She will make you cry but in the best way possible.
A Dream That Should Not Die
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Poem a Day #13 - Drawing
Drawing
A line flows from my pencil after
traveling from my eye to my brain and down
my arm through the muscles
of my hands, the flexing of my fingers
appearing as if by magic
without my control, never to materialize
as the image I envisioned when I
first looked, when I imagined something
different it became new with time
stood still, hours passed
into the being of a creation beyond
my first thought.
Poem by Vanessa V. Kilmer © April 13, 2009
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Sunday, April 12, 2009
A Poem A Day #12 - So We Decided
So We Decided To Keep On Living
So we decided to keep on living,
me, myself and I.
Much too soon to stop from giving
up, rolling over to die.
So we decided to try once more,
to rise another day.
Looking at life different from before,
seeing it in a new way.
So we decided to keep on going,
one more chance,
for all my selves just knowing
to continue with the dance.
Poem by Vanessa V. Kilmer © April 12, 2009
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Saturday, April 11, 2009
A Poem A Day #11 - Blind
Blind
perched out in the open
atop long spindle legs
cornflower turquoise against
a baby blue clear sky
hiding lazy hunters
Poem by Vanessa V. Kilmer © April 11, 2009
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Friday, April 10, 2009
A Poem A Day #10 - Man Friday
Man Friday
I wish I had a Man Friday,
a servant to do what I say:
pay all the monthly bills,
pick up my prescription pills,
throw out the rotten fishes,
clean up the dirty dishes,
feather the two inch dust,
grocery shopping a definite must,
the floor would meet the mop,
dinner would be more than slop,
wash the piles of dirty laundry
and never charge me a single fee.
What I need in my life
is an old-fashioned wife.
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Thursday, April 09, 2009
TWT #9 & PAD #9 - Attic Attack
jussulent - full of broth or soup
tenebrous - dark; gloomy; obscure
ebullient - overflowing with fervor, enthusiasm, or excitement
I have combined them into A Poem a Day. It's a Twofer. Aren't you glad?
For today's prompt, I want you write a poem about a memory. The memory can be good or bad. The memory can be a blend of several memories. I suppose it could even be a memory that you're not sure you remember correctly. Take your time finding a good one (or good ones).
Attic Attack
self-contained child
lost in her world alone
not lonely solitary
annoyed mommy
repeatedly repeating
unheard falling
on deaf ears ebullient
angry martinent
imprisoned child
garret tenebrous black
screaming banging
adolescent manipulator
neighbors interfering
grandma to the rescue
fed her jussulent
abject misadventure
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
A Poem a Day #8
Wax On, Wax Off
Remember to get your chores done
Or you can't go out and play
Understand that repetition's fun
Tasks needn't get in the way
Immerse yourself, don't run
No matter what some folks say
Eventually you will have won
Sameness really is okay.
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
A Poem a Day #7
Prompt #1: I want you to write a clean poem. Take this however you wish. Clean language, clean subject matter, or cleaning the dishes. Of course, some twisted few will automatically link "cleaning" with hired hitmen. That's okay, as long as your poem is somehow linked to clean.
A Real Woman Does
each and everyday
run the vacuum
clean the floors
on your knees
laundry basket
always is empty
clean the dishes
right after dinner
dust the furniture
morning and night
Prompt #2: I want you to write a dirty poem. Take all that stuff I wrote in the first prompt and twist it upside down. The opposite of clean is dirty; so, do what ya gotta do to produce a dirty poem. (Gosh, I hope this challenge doesn't get too messy as a result.)
Down on the Farm
Warm cow manure squished
between bare toes
mud crusted
knees and elbows
twigs leaves brambles
tangled wind blown hair
dirt caked fingers
black moon fingernails
ripped shorts
sweat covered t-shirt
squished grasshopper in pocket.
A Poem a Day at Poetic Asides
Monday, April 06, 2009
A Poem a Day #6 - Joe Schmo
Joe Schmo
There once were a feller, Joe,
who had fewer brains than dough.
He opened his yap,
foot into the trap:
he lost way more than his toe.
For more on A Poem a Day, go to Poetic Asides.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
A Poem a Day #5 - McCrossen's Dockside
McCrossen's Dockside
Watering Hole
Halyards clanging against masts
pointing into clear blue sky
from bright white boats
lined up in dry dock
sailors at water's edge
sipping vodka on the rocks
Saloon
Sportsters tucked between hulls
silence rumbling the air
after announcing themselves
with deep throated cries
bikers lounging at plastic tables
imbibing neon margaritas
Bistro
Expensive automobiles
segregated in small packs
polished couture coterie
draped in gold chrome
financiers taking over bar stools
knocking back beers
Tavern
Bright flowered shirts
knee-length baggy shorts
Sneakers and flip-flops
kicking up dust
geriatrics gone wild
hammering double shots
Bar
For more about Poem a Day, go to Poetic Asides.