Disorders & Porn Stores & Stats...Oh My.

"I wish I had a 'friend with benefits'...

but only if the the friend owned a pharmacy and the benefit was free valium." 

\m/ (O_o) \m/

I know, I know - I'm up to like, a blog a day. But you know what? I gots me some shits to say - and after all, that was the original point to this blog, remember? Because I can't ever keep my damn mouth shut? Lol, that's right - y'all don't like it, don't read it. :)

And speaking of that, I was just looking at my stats before I started writing this. The total view count for "The Chronicles of Crowens" is now up to 4,722, and there are 36 blogs posted. If you do the math, you know - divide the one by the other for the average and all that big brain stuff - that means that 131.16 people read this shit. Now, I realize that those numbers are a tad off because 1439 people saw the one about ACB Stor....ahem, ACB Destroyers. But even taking that into consideration, leaving them out of the average - my blogs are still averaging about 93.8 views. Are you kidding me?! I mean, I'm pretty lame, but if 93.8 of you regularly read this jumble that comes out of my head - you're way lamer than I am. :) Anyhow, for real...I'll quit being a chode, I'm just playing, seriously. Thanks for the support guys. As long as y'all read, I'll write. It's therapeutic. :) -----> random side note about the Crow: I can't say the word "regularly" correctly...and that's real shit right there.

And one point on to the next, my super hilarious ridiculous lawyer called me two days ago. Said that the lawyer that ACB Destroyers has called on to represent them called and asked him for the itemized list of things that were destroyed. He said that this doesn't mean that they are cooperating by any means, just that the ball is now rolling and they realize that their stubborn silence just ain't gonna fly any further. Well, good. Shoooooooow meeeeeeeee the money! :)

For the last several days I've been perplexed. That doesn't happen very often with this big brain of mine and the overabundance of uncommon sense that I carry with me. But I need some help here guys. Someone please explain this to me: How does one person tell a million lies to a million different people, be in the presence of those million people that they've lied to a million times on a million different occasions - and manage not to fuck up and tell on themselves one single time? How is it humanly possible to keep all that bullshit straight and cover your ass that thoroughly? Is that like, a fucking disorder or something? I mean, it has to be exhausting, right? I asked Christopher this very question the other day, and his reply made sense...he said that normally the negative people that always have something to say about someone else are normally the ones that are hiding something, that they do that to keep all the eyes off them...and he's totally right. But I still don't understand how it's humanly possible...and I wanna know why it is that I have to take anti-psychotic medication to keep from knocking the hell out of people who need to be taking anti-psychotic medication? I guess proper protocol here is to just bow down to the bitch that lies better than you.

Speaking of my anti-psychotic medication, my lovely new doctor prescribed me one that doesn't make me want to eat my weight in chocolate on a day-to-day basis. Which is pretty awesome because one can't very well stay under their allotted daily Weight Watcher's points when their magnesium level is shot to hell - or so I'm told. I'm excited to weigh in tomorrow though, I feel like I've done pretty well this week.:) Today, I brought in this cool fat-girl friendly breakfast sandwich that said I should wrap it in a paper towel and cook it for a minute in the microwave and this and that. Which worked out fine, except the paper towel stuck to the damn thing. And I'm not even gonna sit here and lie to you - mostly because I don't trust my personal ability to cover my ass about it at a later date - but I totally ate some paper towel this morning. I feel like that's okay though, since I still have my appendix. That's what the appendix is for, right? For digesting dumb stuff? ----> Piss, I just googled it...looks like I may or may not have PICA. 

The other day, I got some calls at work - imagine that, phone calls at work - but these particular calls were rightly inappropriate...you know, about your everyday porn stores and vaginas. Sounded like a grown man to me and it kinda sketched me out, honestly. Christopher called me shortly after and I was telling him about it - he had me give him the number. Upon calling the number back and a little coercion, he gathered that a little boy in an alternative middle school in Bardstown had taken a little girl's phone into the bathroom and prank called me a few times. So, yesterday - the principal of the school called me and asked exactly what was said, and then a little while later the little boy's mother called me to apologize for her son's behavior. I'm here to tell you right now, that poor woman tugged at my heart strings. She cried, and apologized over an over, told me that they'd had so many problems with him and that she just didn't understand where they had gone wrong....and she just went on and on. I told her that once I knew it was just a kid calling, it wasn't that big of a deal - because really, none of you can tell me that you never pulled a "goats in my garden" or a "refrigerator is running" bit when you were a kid, and if you do tell me that - you are lying and you better remember to cover your ass about it later! Anyhow, I felt super bad that I had brought more grief to this poor woman about something as petty as a prank call! But it really got me to thinking about how so many good mothers out there end up with shit kids, and how so many good kids out there end up with shit mothers - and really, I just don't think that anything in this damn world makes any damn sense any more. But I really do hope that things get better for that poor woman and her son - jeez. 

And I guess I'll leave you with that on a rockin' Halloween Thursday. If anything groundbreaking happens, I'll be sure to report back to all you avid (lame) readers out there....(((seriously though, I'm just joking.)))

"She was a girl who knew how to be happy even when she was sad. And that's important." 

- Marilyn Monroe

Preventative Maintenance

So, y'all know how I'm always like, "oh you know, I'm just bored here at headquarters?"  Well, check this shit out...today: we've got what the IT guys call "an outage". And you know what that means? That means the lines are down. That means my email doesn't work. That means my internet doesn't work. That means my phone isn't ringing. That means I've just been spun into a level of boredom that I've never seen before. Seems like maybe I see a pattern; it was just Friday that I was spun into a level of pissed off that I've never seen before.  But that's neither here, nor there.

Today, in this Chronicle, I want to talk about what it means to be a best friend. I even googled it because one: google knows everything; and two: I like to be educated before I open my big fat mouth - which, sadly, isn't a trait that many possess. But again, that's neither here, nor there.

According to google, this is what a best friend is:

- "Best friends are very special people in your life. They are the first people you think about when you make plans. They are the first people you go to when you need someone to talk to. You will phone them up just to talk about nothing, or to talk about the most important things in your life. When you're sad they will try their hardest to cheer you up. They give the best hugs. They are the shoulder to cry on because you know that they truly care about you. In most cases, they would take a bullet for you because it would be too painful for them to watch you get hurt.  Many people, not all, go through different best friends throughout life. However, usually a person only has one real, true best friend in all their time. A best friend is not only someone that you have a good time with, they are also someone you believe you can trust your life with. A best friend is almost like real family, a best friend gives the opinions that you usually care the most about. A best friend is the one who tells things that you absolutely need to hear, regardless of whether or not you want to hear it. A best friend is the person you can be around and never get sick of. A best friend is someone you don't envy, and is the person you are most grateful for.  Your real, true best friend is your comfort zone."

I'm pretty sure that google hit the figurative nail on its figurative little head...not like the time it told me that my itchy ankle meant that I had the gout; not like the time it told me that smelling onions meant that I had a brain tumor...this time - it's right on point. A best friend is exactly what google just told me it was.

In accordance with my plight to make the world a better place, I wanted to put this definition out there for those of you who carry the title of someone's "best friend". Please read and use this to tune yourself up a bit, you know - preventative maintenance never hurts. Truth is, sometimes best friends get rusty. Sometimes best friends start to misfire. And sometimes best friends begin to knock and eventually throw a piston rod straight the fuck through the engine block...and at that point - they've become nothing but an oily mess that needs to be cleaned up and a best friend that needs to be replaced.  So, if you are indeed someone's best friend, you owe it to your counterpart to keep yourself in good running condition. Nobody wants a piece of junk as a best friend - trust me on this one.

"The world is not fair, and often fools, cowards, liars, and the selfish hide in high places." 

- Bryant H. McGill

Covert Preparation.

Two mornings in a row, I've bundled up and literally power walked from the door of my house to my car wondering why in the hell I didn't wear a scarf. 

Yesterday morning, I had to stand out in the cold bitter wind and scrape my windshield. I have much love for Randy Travis, but I do not enjoy having to dig the cover of his Greatest Hits CD out of my glove box in order to create a visual hole so that I can drive my car to work. 

At this very moment, I'm sitting here in a sweater with the heat on, looking around outside, and I don't like this situation one bit.The colors out there may be great and all that, but it's totally a fake out. Dude, this totally isn't fall.  

If it were fall, I'd be enjoying a couple months of perfect weather. If it were fall, I'd be wearing a hoodie and flip flops at the same time. If it were fall, I'd have the windows open and breeze blowing through my house. If it were fall, I wouldn't be freezing my figurative balls off right now.

So, what I wanna know is - where did my summer go? And more importantly - where exactly is my fall? I'm pretty anxious and unsettled here. Old Man Winter totally wore out his welcome and ruined most of my spring, and I'll be damned if his cold ass didn't come back early to ruin my fall. I feel as though I do not like this old man having his cold ornery ass all up in my other seasons. 

Sometimes I joke about having Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I probably shouldn't. Honestly, chances are - I totally have it. But I just can't properly diagnose myself with such disorders with a PhD from Google University. So, no - I've not been properly diagnosed with SAD; None-the-less, weather like this totally makes me...sad. And for a number of reasons. 

Let's just throw them out there in a bundle: I do not like to get out of a warm bed when it's cold. I do not like having to get up early to make sure I have time to thaw my car out. I do not like to shave my legs when I have goosebumps. I do not like having to wear sweaters and jackets because they make me feel restricted. I do not like having to wear thick socks and boots in order to keep my toes warm. I do not like having to do more loads of laundry because of wearing layers. I do not like that I can't wear my capri yoga pants. I do not like that I can't wear my potato shoes or flip flops.I do not like staying inside all the time. I do not like that I can't go swim in the creek whenever I take the notion. I do not like when all the trees die and everything turns gray. I do not like it when the latch on Charlie's driver side door freezes and won't close. I do not like driving to work in the dark, and then driving back home in the dark. I do not like them in a house. I do not like them with a mouse. I do not like them here or there. I do not like them anywhere. <--- minor adolescent moment there...don't judge me over a Dr. Seuss book on a Thursday when it's cold.

"Hibernation is a covert preparation for a more overt action."- Ralph Ellison

...I'm gonna go eat a bunch, and plug up my butthole now. I'll see y'all in the spring. :)

Duct Tape?

I'm positive that I have an idiot magnet in me. (<---please take note of that clever shit right there: positive & magnet, in the same sentence...brilliance.) 

I've decided that most people are either too lazy use their God-given brains, or that the majority of people are just born stupid. A wise man once said that you can't fix stupid, not even with duct tape... but I sure feel like I could shut some folks up with a nice fresh roll. 

So, here at headquarters - we've got a shortage of HR personnel. It's like a drought. We've seriously gone from an 8 man team down to a 2 man team in a matter of months. Needless to say, there's a lot of crap to do and not very many folks left to do it. With that being said, I've been nominated for and accepted some HR duties temporarily until the team recruits some more players. No big deal - I'm smart, I can push these papers all day long. Here's the trouble: the temporary lady that has stepped in from an outside company to be our HR's Head Honcho - isn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box. I mean, the lights are on - but I'm looking around and I'm thinking that nobody's home. Usually after about three dumb occurrences with one person I tend to apply a different attitude when interacting with them, and for the record that attitude does include a permanent look on my face that could damn near spell "WTF" all by itself. And that's where I'm at with this woman. WTF.  

The first dumb occurrence happened the day I met Honch. She had been in an office that's close to my desk working on some things. She marched out of the office over to my desk, and asked me if I would walk some papers down to Health Services for her. First thing's first, they were HER papers that SHE needed to get across the building...to me, that meant it needed to be HER little happy feet that took them there. Second thing's second, I'm chained to this desk. I have to have coverage to go pee. I've got a phone to answer and a door to watch - can't very well do either one of those things from across the building. To do that for her, I would have had to track someone down to come sit at my desk and do my job so that I could then, and only then, go do hers. uh, NERP! Anyhow, I explained this second thing business to her...and she says to me again, "Sooooo, you can't just run this down there for me?" Jesus Earl Crest. I give up. I quit life. 

After that occurrence, I was giving the temporary responsibilities and in turn, ended up having to kinda work for Honch a little. They wanted me to help schedule interviews, help with job postings, and help with getting the new hire's paperwork down to the business office. All sounded easy-peasy to me - but first I would need to be shown the proper way to do such things, and be given the resources to do them. Honch was supposed to call me that Thursday and go over the ins and outs but she never called. THEN, she needed me. And guess what? I couldn't help her. And THEN she needed me again, and...I still couldn't help her. And THEN she calls my boss. OH NO, HONCH DIDN'T?! Oh Yes, Honch did. 

Honch tells my boss that she thinks I'm too overwhelmed by the HR duties, and that she doesn't believe that I'm a good candidate to cover the things that they asked of me, because every time they'd asked for help I hadn't been available. Of course, my boss (who is the first boss I've ever had that I didn't want to push down a flight of stairs), straight went to battle for me. He told her that if was lacking in an area then it had to have been because I wasn't properly trained, because for almost two years I'd gone above and beyond and exceeded his expectations in EVERYTHING he'd EVER asked of me. BOOYAH, HONCH! Anyhow, I ended up reassuring the boss man afterwards by letting him know that she had failed to call me to go over things like she said she would, and that I had emailed her not once, not twice, but FOUR different times asking her to provide me with the resources I needed to help. Get the hell outta here, woman.

So at this point, I'm pretty frustrated with her. Hell, who am I trying to kid, if I wasn't required to be nice, she would have already been told a little something about herself. So for a few weeks, I did my HR duties. And then, after that few weeks, I get an email that says: "Oh, you aren't doing this right. You're supposed to do it this way. Put this number on it here. Change this. And do that." Meh. Merp. Ugh. Then, after that fashionably late and high quality emailed training course, I was able to start doing the things the "right" way, three weeks into it. Last week, I sent down the first batch of "right" paperwork, according to Honch's new standards. I even stated in the email that the paperwork now included the correct number in the correct spot and was done exactly the way she requested. She replies back to me, "Did you include the number?" Holy shit. Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Someone shoot me.  And this lady makes the big bucks. Yeah, y'all chew on that shit for a while. 

And then today, a delivery guy called me because he was supposed to deliver a copier and (...wait for it...) HE  DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THE REAR OF THE BUILDING WAS. I'm being for real y'all, you can't make this shit up. So I sat there for a second or two, remembering that I'm required to be nice, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out a way to answer that question without coming across as a complete ass. Like, what do you even say that? The only thing I could come up with was, "Drive around the building and I'll have someone flag you down." There's totally no hope for humanity.

So, in the future, if you see me somewhere and I'm violently slamming my head into something, it will be because the general public finally drove me insane. And when you see this happening, please do me a solid and duct tape my ass something before I manage to hurt myself? I'd totally return the favor. :)

Life's A Garden. Dig It. :)

Y'all know what? I don't have a reason to write today! But sometimes when I don't have a reason I write the best stuff. Funny how that works, ain't it? So...it's Wednesday here at headquarters. I've got the Spotify fired up and the heat on, watching it rain and jammin' the Little Big Town playlist. (however, the playlist is named "Little Big Dog" - no one will understand this except for Brittany!) Honestly, I could rock Little Big Town's The Road To Here album all the way through, all day long and never get tired of it. Serious business. 

And speaking of Little Big Town, let us reminisce! When I was 22 and Brittany was 21, we tore out to see "Little Big Dog" perform on a Hot Country Night at 4th Street. That was such a Little Big Time! We did or normal "throw 'bows to the front" routine, and this one chick yelled at us. It was pretty hilarious. She wasn't happy when I smiled and belittled her with: "Oh no, sweetie. You're not gonna yell at US because we don't intend on stopping here. I promise that we won't be in YOUR way for long!" And then we carried on, closer and closer to the front. However, we were lucky enough to notice when the girl that yelled at us barfed everywhere and had to be carried out by her buddies shortly after. I guess all that yelling was a direct result of liquid courage. Oh, such a good time we had pointing at her and laughing. We had way too much fun the summer Brittany turned 21. :)

So, it never fails that I spend all year looking forward to my Pumpkin Party. And then the week before the Pumpkin Party I completely stress out and get all uptight and overwhelmed trying to put it all together. (not as much this year as last year, because last year we had to move the party at the last minute due to circumstances that were beyond our control - I'm not pointing any elbows at JESSICER DALE though!) But then when it all starts coming together, and I start getting RSVPs from all my favorite people, I start to get really anxious and excited -> that's where I'm at right now. I'm so exited to see everyone that I can't hardly stand it. (Special shout out to Christopher for mowing, weed-eating, cleaning up the yard and porch, doing all the dishes and all the laundry yesterday! Thank you so much gorgeous!) Anyhow, we'll see all you cool kids Saturday! And don't forget to BYOP! :)

So, one of my coworkers, who I normally refer to as my "work best friend" to avoid HIPPA troubles...came up to me a few minutes ago and said, "your hair is long" - which it's not. And after a brief pause she continued..."it's long and it's messy...it's not pretty when it's messy." - well, by God! The girl doesn't and dishonest bone in her body! And now I feel all bad about myself, and I want my mommy. Hmph, lookin' like I look on a Wednesday at work. :)

And, Jessicer Dale will love this...I just had a Wild & Wonderful Whites Of West Virginia moment. Michele went to pick us up some lunch from Wendy's and I asked her to get me a chicken sammich and coke zero, which it plainly states on their online menu that they have. Michele calls me, and guess what? They don't have coke zero - just nasty ass diet coke. I hung the phone up and was like, "Why's it on your sign if you don't have it?!". Ha! Sue Bob at her finest! :)  And then Michele gets here with my sammich and it has not one, but TWO freakin' tomatoes on it. Now, that's just a little out of line. Pretty craptastic, if you ask me. :) Geez, now I'm just being silly. 

There are far more exciting things happening right now, but I'm not going to disclose them to the general public until I know for sure that it's not gonna fall through and slap me in the face. I just hope this good karma train keeps rollin' round these parts. We're on a good run here, we need it to keep on, keepin' on. Life's a garden, dig it?

....bye y'all, bye y'all! :)

A $12 Damn Blender.

"...hit the wall smoking & spinning; still wasn't thinking 'bout nothing but winning..." 

Sometimes, I wish that I was smart and had gone to law school after I graduated. I would love nothing more than to be expected to be (and get paid for being) an asshole every single day of my life. Woe is me, here I sit at headquarters - forced to be nice! But if you know me at all, you probably know that sarcasm, cleverness and a backbone are pretty much my three favorite traits in a person...and lucky me, my lawyer is made up of all three. His name is Rob, no pun intended. 

(side note: I just totally remembered my Uncle Obie referring to his lawyers as "Doey, Cheatam & Howe"....get it? Do we cheat them and how? Ah, nevermind.)

We contacted Rob because a criminal lawyer recommended him to us, and after a small game of phone tag I was able to get him on the phone. I explained to him in detail about the whole storage building fiasco...and he was immediately like, "F*ck this guy, bring me the information". 

Last week I took him the list of my belongings that were destroyed and their value, the contract, the receipts, the pictures, and the story start to finish. Yesterday, he called me unexpectedly as I left the nail salon, so I sat in my car in the parking lot and listened to him - and ultimately laughed out loud. Did I mention this guy is awesome? 

He explained to me that we had been misinformed by the lawyer that we had contacted initially for legal advice, and that asking for 75% to account for depreciation was simply not acceptable. He said, and I quote "if you paid $12 for a damn blender, then you need to get $12 back. It doesn't matter if it was only worth $4 at the time, it was still your $12 damn blender. He needs to put you right back in the situation you were in before he screwed up"! I mean, right?! So, this guy, this awesome Rob lawyer guy, says that asking for a full reimbursement isn't ridiculous at all, and that we will be going for the full amount of damages incurred. Amen to that, brother!

He also stated that the contract wasn't anything that I had to worry about, with all of it's big bold type saying "we aren't responsible for anything" blah blah blah...they can't disclaim negligence. And this is 100% negligence, since they - you know - neglected to update their records properly. The only other thing need to win a suit is proof of damages due to their negligence. That makes the score two for the good guys, zero for the bad guys! :)

Awesome Rob mailed a "hell or high water" letter out yesterday, demanding either reimbursement or contact information for ACB's insurance company. He said, "They've got insurance, liability insurance. And if they don't they're idiots and they need to get it. This can be considered their wake up call because they are liable". So long story short - if they don't want to pay up, we will go after the insurance company. If they don't want to pay up and don't have insurance then we will, as Rob proclaimed, "take it to Conrad"! At this point in our conversation I was all pumped up and I felt like a hands in the middle "Go Team!" was warranted, but being as I was by myself in the car in a parking lot, I settled for a single fist pump.  :)

As of right now, we're playing the waiting game - the waiting is the hardest part - but at least there is a game plan that has been set into action. He gave them a deadline of 7 days to reply, and depending on how that goes it will all be over, or it will begin in Henry County Circuit Court. It can go either way, but either way - we're gonna win! 

-- "...straight ahead, never turn around, don't give up, don't back down; full throttle, wide open, you get tired but you don't show it; dig a little deeper when you think you can't dig no more, that's the only way I know..." 

No News Is Good News.

So, I'm just kicken it here at headquarters. Watching the outside door open and shut for no reason...not sure why it does that, but it happens quite a bit. Sometimes I wonder if the feral cats set it off, or maybe it's gigantic stink bugs flying past the sensor? Who knows, anyhow - that's quality entertainment 'round here on a Thursday. 

Watching the doors, however, was not my first attempt to cure this boredom. I actually went to wave3's website and attempted to read some news first. The first four stories on the list were so ridiculous that I just laughed and stopped reading. I know I shouldn't laugh at others people expense, and it's really not funny that this kind of shit happens to people...what tickles me is the fact that there are people in this world with balls big enough to do some of this shit. 

Personally, I'm a coward. Confrontation completely sketches me out. I've even been known to make Jdale call and complain to fast food worker's about MY messed up orders because I'm just that lame and afraid they'll argue with me. For the life of me, I just cannot fathom how people can just go bat shit crazy and do some of the things that end up on the news. 

The first story in the list tells me that a man has beat up his girlfriend while he was holding their baby. I have no comments about that, because really, what can you say? I bet his Mama is proud? Daddy of the year? Hmph. 

The second story tells me that a man was wandering aimlessly around the halls of the Hall of Justice, and after he was asked to leave - he flashed his genitalia to the general public. He then became uncooperative and refused to tell the police his name. When they arrested him and got him to his cell, he striped off butt ass naked. Can you imagine how uncomfortable the cops and guards were while dealing with this nude dude? That's funny to me. 

The third story tells me that a chick, high on meth of course, went up into a daycare and demanded a ride, threatening the daycare workers with an ink pen. AN INK PEN! Why can't shit like this happen to me? I'd love nothing more than to be given the opportunity to take an ink pen from someone, laugh at them, then make them feel bad about themselves. Betta get on outta here with that Bic, bitch!

The fourth story tells me that pastor committed homicide. A PASTOR. And not just one homicide, but he went above and beyond and went down for a TRIPLE homicide. Did I mention that this dude was A PASTOR? Yeah, I think I said that. But anyhow - this same PASTOR also owned one of those gold for cash places, and a pawn shop at some point in the recent past. Now, I'm no rocket scientist and sometimes I'm a tad off in the head, but that just all sounds sketchy to me! A pastor with a pawn shop, plucking people off. Geez, Louise. 

   

At this point in my life nothing surprises me, but seriously - if I didn't laugh about this crap, I'd probably cry. I mean, is this really where these people wanna be when Jesus comes back? Running around butt ass naked, yielding pens and killing people in pawn shops? The world needs to get it's shit together because.....

"We cannot make good news out of bad practice." - Edward R. Murrow 

Welcome Back Friday, You Sexy Beast!

So, it's prom night here at headquarters, and that means I'm going to leave here today with a smile on my face, a smile in my heart, and a smile in my soul. I love my job everyday, but on days like today - when the people we love and serve get to dress like superstars, and be treated like superstars (by people other than the ones that work here and treat them that way on a daily basis)...I have trouble figuring out how I ever worked anywhere else. I've learned so much about myself and evolved so much since the day I walked in these doors, that I will not only love these guys for the rest of my life - but I will be grateful for what they've done for me for the rest of my life. And today I've made an executive decision: next year, I'm gonna coerce one of the guys into choosing me as his date so I can put on a evening gown and prance about and experience the whole shebang right beside them. Okay - enough sappy, right?

We've found ourselves a new lawyer for this whole Storage Building fiasco. I took all the information to him Wednesday, so at some point soon if not already - there will be a letter going out threatening ACB with what he called "hell and high water". If they decide to be honorable humans and pay me for the damages then fine. If not, the suit will be filed and we'll do it the hard way. I've had enough of the pleasantries, it's time for Gary to man up. Since, you know - he's such a good man and all. Hmph. 

I'm also in the process of being pre-approved to buy a house. Going pretty good - my credit score is what they refer to as "excellent". Ha! Imagine that - coming from the girl who couldn't have sold her soul and received a credit card 7 years ago. I guess I owe all that excellence to Randaddy's faith in me, and his golden signature that he ever-so graciously placed under mine several times. We're excited to get the pre-approval letter in our hands so we can start our search for our perfect home, but with the government currently on a hiatus it's taking a bit longer than normal. But in due time, we're gonna be out of our tin box on Booker Pike. One step at a time right? First I busted up out of the trailerhood, now we're gonna cruise on out of the tin box on Booker Pike!

"If your dream house, is a double wide trailer sitting back in the holler on a country road - then baby, that's where we'll go." - Jake Owen

Spent the evening with my besties and my baby sister and baby Sara yesterday. It was a much needed and nice girls night - full of laughs and ignorance. Baby Sara looks just like her bubby and her daddy when she smiles. :) I believe we had way too much fun at Tesler's pregnant expense, but she's just gonna have to deal with that for a few more months. We made the executive decision that the baby's name is going to be Waylon Nicole Nugget, and we made sure that she understood that if she ever decides to drop a deuce in the parking lot at Kroger, CPS will take her baby. Between Sara's bootylicious dance moves and scrumptious crackers, Jdale's ultimatum drafts, the phone "buffing", the chicken bones in the Kroger Pharmacy drive-thru, and Kenny Chesney turned all the way up - I'd say it was one for the books. We're gonna have to get together more often, ladies. Mostly so we can laugh at Tesler's waddle. 

My poor little gorgeous boyfriend is still fighting the war with his stupid "scoli-ulcer", as he calls it. He was doing better, but then got worse again yesterday. I'm about over this damn "scoli-ulcer" that keeps making my love super sick. I feel like I may need to kick it's ulcerative ass. I absolutely hate it when he's sick, because he isn't goofy and silly and funny and he doesn't do tricks. It's my favorite when he does tricks. :) Anyhow, y'all cross your fingers that he gets better soon. He's too gorgeous to feel this bad. <3 

So, now that I've updated you on what's going on with me and mine - I'm gonna hit the cafeteria with the $2 that Jdale donated for my lunch today. Which just reminds me that some dude slammed her with the beer cave door at Five Star yesterday, and her shoe was stuck in some gross sticky crap on the floor and she almost fell. She caught her self however, and missed a perfect "oh my check" opportunity. Such a shame. Some people what a lifetime for a moment like that. :)

...stay tuned.