My Not-So-Anonymous Response

I’m not a fan of lists but I decided to compose this one for that small group of people group of small people, rather, who seem to be in need of a bit of reassurance.

P.S. THIS POST “AIN’T” ANONYMOUS. If anything about it offends (or resembles) you, then you are cordially invited to kiss my ass. Too strong? Ok, and I would never invite a coward under my clothes anyway -so, let me change that… you are cordially invited to cowgirl up and contact me for a personal one on one, adult size conversation.

NUMBER 1–I am not a security officer—I’ve paid my dues cupcake, I carry gun(s), not flashlights. 

NUMBER 2–I do not sit with my feet propped up on desks—I’m too professional (and too cute) for that. Were my feet on the desk when I interviewed you during that investigation you were involved in sugar-doodle? 

NUMBER 3–There are very specific, potentially life-saving, rules and laws about what one should do while driving. For example, one should never send and/or receive text messages while operating a motor vehicle. If I am asked to drive so that messages, emails and/or phone calls can be made and/or returned, in a timely manner, I have absolutely no problem doing so. Did I mention that I am a trained defensive driver, and I can navigate through traffic in a crisis situation with ease and reliability, sweetie pie?

NUMBER 4–I am a true “mother hen”, and sometimes that means sitting outside the henhouse, looking in.— Butter cup, there’s a lot to be said about tip lines, surveillance cameras and social media when it comes to detection, prevention and protection. 

NUMBER 5–Officers who rotate between schools are typically from one of three pools, sweet cheeks… (1) not enough officers to have one at each school, (2) so good that he or she is capable of covering and acting as a rover/back up officer for the other officers or (3) the officer has been removed from a campus because of inappropriate or questionable behavior and placed in a “rotator” position.

NUMBER 6–My pockets, in no way, resemble my qualifications which are clearly verified by my years in service, my boots on the ground experience and my resume’, booboo kitty.

NUMBER 7–Unlike several of you who have an issue (with everything), I am a tax paying citizen of this community— I’ve lived here well over 20 years sweet pea. 

NUMBER 8–My unmarked vehicle and my plainclothes status are by design. I can assure you that people are more willing to talk to me when I’m driving a Honda and wearing a business suit than they are when I’m in full police garb and a patrol car. Check the stats muffin!

Bottom line—  I smile and speak when I see you because it’s obvious that it sucks to be you but please don’t let the smooth taste fool you. I promise I can be 10 times nastier than you and your entire little group of conspirators combined! 

 

 

 

Fun with words–

 Unscramble the letters to find the words  (This was created with my co-workers in mind)

  1. edlteioseru – causing harm
  2. aragstemt – a scheme
  3. fdoeaitman – the action of damaging the good reputation of someone
  4. csypcanoir – a plot or scheme by two or more people to commit an unlawful or harmful deed
  5. lpyo – a plan or action designed to turn a situation to one’s own advantage
  6. tneaauqide – insufficient
  7. enyfol – a crime usually punishable by imprisonment for more than one year
  8. surcluusupno – having or showing no moral practice
  9. aiwelkgn – a coward
  10. lelib – a written or verbal statement that is injurious to the reputation
  11. thiepatc – miserably inadequate
  12. cadrwo – a person who lacks courage
  13. rrcupto – having a willingness to act dishonestly in return for personal gain
  14. srlande – make a false and damaging statement about someone
  15. aymiynnto – the condition of being anonymous
  16. dcrlywoa – chicken shit
  17. tssdeiiuo – inciting or causing people to rebel against authority
  18. etecdi – the practice of deceiving someone by misrepresenting the truth
  19. ivctcno – inmate
  20. iatacnbgkbbs – the practice of criticizing someone in a treacherous way while feigning friendship
  21. ochtaniamni – a scheme
  22. fregsuebtu – deceit used in order to achieve one’s goal
  23. aunrdenedhnsdse – dishonest behavior
  24. icdtpilyu – deceitfulness
  25. oqbouly – verbal abuse

Update on the stray pup—

*Update               *Update               *Update               *Update               *Update

Look who received a clean bill of health from her doctor.

Her stitches were removed and she now weighs 38.7 pounds which is a gain of more than 12 pounds since she wondered up.

I Love Girls!

A friend recently posted this list on his fb page. As the mother of three beautiful girls I thought it would be fitting to create a list of “Rules For My Daughter”.

Rules For My Son: 

  1. Never shake a man’s hand sitting down.
  2. There are plenty of ways to enter a pool. The stairs ain’t one.
  3. If you hunt and kill you clean and grill.
  4. In a negotiation, never make the first offer.
  5. Act like you’ve been there before. Especially in the end zone.
  6. Request the late check-out.
  7. When entrusted with a secret, keep it.
  8. Hold your heroes to a higher standard.
  9. Return a borrowed car with a full tank of gas.
  10. Don’t fill up on bread.
  11. When shaking hands, grip firmly and look him in the eye.
  12. Don’t let a wishbone grow where a backbone should be.
  13. If you need music on the beach, you’re missing the point.
  14. Carry two handkerchiefs. The one in your back pocket is for you. The one in your breast pocket is for her.
  15. You marry the girl, you marry her whole family; but don’t forget your mom.
  16. Write down your dreams and keep them under your hat.
  17. Experience the serenity of traveling alone.
  18. Never be afraid to ask out the best looking girl in the room.
  19. Never turn down a breath mint.
  20. In a game of HORSE, sometimes a simple free throw will get ’em.
  21. A sport coat is worth 1000 words.
  22. Try writing your own eulogy. Never stop revising.
  23. Thank a veteran, and then make it up to him.
  24. If you want to know what makes you unique, sit for a caricature.
  25. Eat lunch with the new kid.
  26. After writing an angry email, read it carefully. Then delete it.
  27. Ask your mom to play. She won’t let you win.
  28. Remove your hat when you enter a room or sit down to eat.
  29. Give credit. Take the blame.

Rules For My Daughter:

  1. When seated, if a man approaches, extend your hand. If he shakes and doesn’t kiss it, forgive him, if he kisses it Germ X asap.
  2. If you’re gonna lay out at the pool, be sure that your bathing suit is so tastefully sexy that all others around you can’t help but look and smile with awe and wonderment.
  3. I will hunt and kill, Tom, Sally or Bill if they ever think or feel that it’s ok to hurt you- (no one will ever find the body).
  4. In a negotiation, remember your skills: outwit, outsmart and, if all else fails, outgun.
  5. Act like you’ve been there before— OWN IT!
  6. Get up and out- the early bird catches the worm and gets the continental breakfast, too.
  7. Keep secrets like they are yours (and remember sharing information is what conspiracies are made of…shhhhhh…)
  8. Be your own hero.
  9. If you borrow a car to transport a body, wipe it down before you return it.
  10. If you eat a lot of bread, expect a lot of dimples.
  11. When shaking hands, grip firmly, make eye contact, then go for the Germ X asap.
  12. Straighten your back when sitting and standing – hump backs are intended for whales.
  13. If you like sand between your toes…you must have gotten that from your daddy.
  14. To hell with a handkerchief, carry Kleenex. A used handkerchief in any pocket (or purse) is disgusting.
  15. You ARE the girl, we ARE your whole family and I Am your mom… need I say more?
  16. Live your dreams (remember I’m living vicariously through you so let’s GET-IT-IN!!)
  17. When traveling alone, be aware of your surroundings- those blonde headed girls walking down 125th, alone, at night, with their bags on their shoulders are hookers child. They are ON THE stroll, not OUT FOR A stroll!
  18. Never forget that YOU ARE the best-looking girl in the room.
  19. Always carry breath mints and be ready to throw one at anyone who needs it.
  20. In a game of HORSE, watch from the comfort of your air-conditioned home and offer them lemonade when the game is over. By the way: do you even know what a game of HORSE is?
  21. A guy wearing a sport coat isn’t always a bad thing unless it’s plaid and it has matching pants (looking like OshKosh B’gosh).
  22. Your life is your eulogy. Make it your best written work.
  23. Your grandfather was a veteran. (Thank him in your prayers tonight).
  24. Everything about you is unique. Don’t be afraid to show ‘em whatcha got girl!
  25. Pay it forward at Starbucks. (I know you’re a “frequent buyer” in that joint).
  26. After writing an angry email, read it carefully, and after forwarding it to me delete it. I’ll read it then I’ll take care of the s.o.b. it was intended for.
  27. Ask your grandmother to play… be brave my child… be really, really brave.
  28. You’re a young lady, wearing a fashionable hat indoors and or at the table is acceptable (especially on a bad hair day!).
  29. Give credit where credit is due and take responsibility for yourself and your actions but don’t let any jerk off get away with blaming his or her dumb shit on you.

Little Timmy

 

                                  

The guys in the locker room were amazed. They couldn’t believe how big it was. Some of them refused to look his way but others seemed mesmerized by it and the fact that he was captain of the swim team made it impossible to hide. He learned to accept the shunning and the staring and glaring because his mom was right, joining the team was a great idea. He’d been an avid swimmer since early childhood and the coaches and fans loved him. Truth be known, his teammates loved him too, but most of them were, admittedly, jealous. Timmy’s father gave him pep talks frequently and during those talks he was always sure to mention his own accomplishments. He was proud of the fact that his only son had seemingly inherited his athletic ability and his personality, not to mention his physical build and appearance. As a young swimmer Timmy’s dad embraced and showcased every aspect of himself no matter the audience and he was often reminded of those days when looking at his son.

During the last swim mete of the season Timmy walked out of the locker room wearing his team uniform; Speedo swim trunks and his favorite extra-long swim shirt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a group of reporters moving in his direction. Timmy immediately grinned while simultaneously removing his swim shirt. When the reporters were in close proximity Timmy swirled around and gave them a perfect view of his full – faced boyish grin and his beautiful six pack. Those were actually only two small pieces of the beautiful “man pie” that made him the eye candy that he was… and he knew it!

His ego was enormous!

A Choice? Really?

This is a re-post of a response that I published in July of 2015, after reading a post shared by a FB friend in which he did the old…”I don’t agree, but I love Cousin Johnny anyway”. I decided that it was my turn to speak up, speak out and speak long and loud!

Timing is everything — I believe this is a great time to re-share! Comments are welcomed, but please no hatred, bigotry or discrimination.

Each One Teach One

I love you as a fellow human, as my brother in blue and the fact that you regularly show and share your love of God is a plus, in my opinion, and another reason I love you, my friend! Let me get to my point…I think there are millions of people who are missing/avoiding/ignoring one of the most important issues of all here. Everyone – and I mean EVERYONE- walking God’s green earth deserves to be respected and have their rights to live, laugh and love respected! What gives anyone the right to say where the line is drawn? Is there any difference between two men being in a monogamous, loving, RESPECTFUL relationship and a man and woman who are married?… Let’s sweeten the pot…. that married man does all he can to get a woman, other than his wife, to accompany him to his hotel room and into his bed… Do you really think God is keeping score like that? Man, with man -negative 0; man with woman +10— oops wait— she’s not his wife… better subtract a few points for that…

From what I’ve been taught, we are all sinners and, although we all have burdens to bear, none of us have the burden (or the right) to decide who goes where after death! Yes, each one should teach one BUT yes, each one should sweep around his and her own front door first, last and always!

P.S. You mentioned that you love your friends and family members who are gay and just because being gay is the lifestyle they “chose” you love them no less… People CHOOSE to lie, steal, CHEAT, commit adultery, covet thy neighbor’s wives or husbands…etc. and when caught, there are various consequences.

Answer this: How many of these consequences, in any way, compare to being ridiculed, taunted, hated by millions, treated as an outcast, mocked, treated with contempt, scoffed at, despised, etc. on a daily basis – forever? Now answer this: which of your “friends or family members” (the ones who are gay) are you calling a stupid, dumb ass, mentally challenged, effing idiot-  because surely that’s what they’d have to be to “choose” to endure all of that! I’ve met so many people in my life, heterosexual and homosexual, that I’ve forgotten who some of them are, but I’ve never met anyone who “chose” to be gay.

“Love you my brother”

The Family I Never Dreamed Of—

(This is the eighth and final chapter of this short story. Follow the links below to read the previous chapters)

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-O intro         http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Ox  chapter 1

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OH    chapter2    http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OL     chapter 3

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OQ    chapter 4    http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Pj     chapter 5

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Pw   chapter 6     http://wp.me/p5AbPX-PV   chapter 7

Chapter 8

(This is the eighth and final chapter of this short story. Follow the links below to read the previous chapters)

Thank goodness the other bathroom was complete or we might have had an entire family of critters living in the walls. What I wanted to say was, “I wish the other bathroom had been incomplete, that way I could have had my own little family “living inside the walls”, but you never know who might be reading this. I wouldn’t want the reader to think I’m weird or anything, you know how people can take one little comment and run with it. Hell, one opinion like that and the police might be at my door with a battering ram, a search warrant and a strait jacket.

Ok, I have total and complete recall of that yellow painted room with the divided towel closet and the long white vanity top. That towel closet was the perfect hiding spot. When Lil Renny and Chuckie would try to force me to play games like “hide and go choke the middle child” or “ring around the middle child’s head with the barb wire headband”, I would hunker down in that closet behind the towels and stay there until they forgot they were looking for me.  Naturally, they caught me one time – just before I got into the closet, they dragged me out into the yard. That’s when I learned to play “red light, green light, middle child lights out”. You’ve seen enough of how my life went to understand how that was played without my even going into detail. They also taught me their version of “Simon says” that day, only it was called “Brother Says” and I was the only pigeon playing. After several rounds of “Brother says go spit on yourself” and “Brother says go lick that chicken”, the chickens got wise and ran into the henhouse. That’s when I got away from them and ran inside and got into the towel closet. Unfortunately, there were no towels in the closet that day so I did like all little kid’s do… I covered my eyes with my hands so they couldn’t find me and guess what?  They searched that bathroom high and low for more than 3 hours looking everywhere from inside the towel closet to down the bath tub drain but never found me… and they say the middle child is always the slow one, hahahahahahaha!

The Family I Never Dreamed Of—-

(This is the seventh chapter of this short story. Follow the links below to read the previous chapters)

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-O intro                  http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Ox  chapter 1

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OH    chapter2     http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OL     chapter 3

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-OQ    chapter 4     http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Pj     chapter 5

http://wp.me/p5AbPX-Pw   chapter 6

Chapter 7                          

           (photo credit: pinterest.com)

The half bath

Being the parents definitely had its perks. For example, they had their very own bathroom complete with their very own incomplete shower. I have no idea why they never had it finished. Heck, with daddy and Mr. Dunston’s brick fence building skills, one would think it would have been an easy task for them, but I guess not. There was a large gaping hole that exposed all the plumbing on one side and a plywood trap door on the other. I would imagine the idea of losing that hook inside the wall was enough to prevent mama and daddy from asking for any assistance from him.

I often wondered if anyone else realized the trap door led to the hole and vice versa. I have so many memories of that room, like the time mama made me crawl through the trap door to look for critters after she heard something running in the wall. The idea was for me to go in, catch, skin, cook and serve it for dinner. Mama promised I could have the leg and thigh portions if it was a nutria. What she didn’t know was that every time she and daddy and the boys left me home alone, I would crawl into that hole and hang out. The critters within were friends.  There were the conjoined nutrias, the nervous 3-legged possum, the owl with the glass eye and the pair of bald headed bald eagles. They made me feel loved and needed… go figure… One evening at mama’s insistence, I crawled through the trap door in search of a nutria big enough to be dinner for 4, no not 5, I was the middle child and I always ate alone. I knew Asa and Asa were big enough to feed the entire family, but I knew I could never harm a hair on their stuck together backs, especially the way Asa looked at me and the way Asa looked back at me.  That was the night I had to improvise, so I crawled in, bent over and took a chunk out of my right ankle. It was the one with the fungus on it so I had to work twice as hard to chew through all that thick hard skin. To be sure it would be enough to feed the whole family, I reached around and bit a plug of fat off my back and that was actually quite simple. (For more than a year Chuckie and Lil Renny enjoyed playing tug of war. I was the rope… one held my feet and the other one held my head. I think my neck stretched more than a foot before the judge caught wind and banned them from their favorite game.) I took my meat to the kitchen and tossed all of it into a pot of hot water with some fresh dug potatoes and carrots. When it finished cooking I sat back and watched my family have a fleshy foot fungus and back fat food fiesta, and I didn’t even mind the fact that Princess wouldn’t share her bone with me as I watched. Thinking back and looking forward, I suspect that explains my chronic back issues and maybe even my recurring foot fungus.

Abducted: He said he was our uncle (a true story)

When we were old enough to attend school, our parents sent us to what I can only describe as “the little schoolhouse on the hill”. Seriously, it was a big white building that sat on top of a hill. Thinking back, it truly looked like something from “Little House on the Prairie”. Lunch was the same thing every day… English peas, with an orange slice and a piece of cornbread. I can vividly recall the teacher constantly saying “Ro- Shellllll, don’t fork your bread”. As if spending your day in a hauntingly scary looking house wasn’t enough, we had to look at and listen to “Mrs. Congeniality” all day, too. Luckily, my brother and I were in the same classroom since she was the only teacher.

I’ve mentioned before that I followed my brother everywhere. One day, just before dismissal, the sky turned dark and a torrential rainstorm pummeled the area. My brother and I stood inside the building looking out for our parents. A fellow classmate, who just so happened to be Mrs. Congeniality’s kid, approached us, and for lack of a better term, baited us. The little demon dared us to walk home, in the rainstorm, all alone. Here’s where I have proof that my dear, sweet, older brother loved me from the start, he grabbed my hand, and led me out of the building into the storm. He told me that we would be okay and that he knew the way home.

I suspect, had I looked back, I would have seen that evil kid and her mother laughing at the poor little drenched idiots who were trudging along holding onto one another for dear life. The rain was coming down so hard I could hardly see what was going on in front of me. We made it down the hill and to the main street, which was generally a very busy two lane street. On this particular day, traffic was almost non-existent, probably because the entire area was under a tornado warning. Anyway, as we made our way in the direction that my big brother assured me would get us home, we approached a bridge that was completely unfamiliar to us. That’s when an older model blue car drove past us then pulled over on the shoulder of the road. We held on to one another and kept walking when suddenly the driver’s door opened and a very tall, thin man stepped out into the rain, basically blocking our way. When he bent down and spoke to us, we, being brought up to be polite and respectful, stopped and greeted the man. He smiled and told us that he was our “Uncle Jeff” and that we should get into his car so he could take us home. I was so happy that “Uncle Jeff”, whom I’d never met nor had I heard of before, happened to be in the neighborhood that I gladly let him pick me up and put me in his trunk., I guess my big brother was happy too because he allowed “Uncle Jeff” to pick him up and put him in there with me.

To our horror, he wasn’t really our uncle and he didn’t have a clue where we lived. He had lied… and so have I, but only about the trunk. He didn’t really put us in the trunk, and by the time my big brother remembered that we didn’t have an uncle named Jeff, the man was pulling into the driveway of that darn little white schoolhouse. He had taken us back to the scene of our escape. “Uncle Jeff” parked, opened the back door, picked both of us up and carried us to the front door of the school. Mrs. Congeniality stepped out and acted surprised to see us in the arms of that stranger. I heard her thank him for saving us as she closed and locked the door behind him. She immediately called our mom and dad, and I specifically recall sitting in a chair in front of the open oven door eating cookies when they arrived. Was the pilot lit in that stove? Was it set on 500 degrees? Was she trying to kill us with gas fumes or make chocolate chips out of our little drenched bodies?

Mom and dad arrived and mom cried when that crazy old lady told her what happened. They carried us out to the car and took us home.

To this day we don’t have any idea who that man was, where he came from or where he went. Needless to say, that was our last day at the little schoolhouse on the hill.