The Future World Dominator's Skull & Crossbone Comforter

Hey. Hope everybody had a lovely Thanksgiving.

But enough about that. I don't really want to go into the family drama, do you? I mean, you have your own, right? Let's just say that I ate turkey and became embroiled in drama that would rival the JFK assassination which I am currently re-obsessed with. I have read 75 books on the subject and now, thanks to the wonders of my

IPHONE WHICH I LOVE VERY MUCH. I KISS YOU, IPHONE!

*uncompensated advertisement. Call me, Apple! I'm savin' all my love for yewwww......"

can wake up my husband at 3:30 AM running YouTube videos and whispering urgently "Look at this Zapruder closeup! You can SEE THE BULLET COMING IN FROM THE FRONT! WHOOSH!"

Who wants to marry me?

Send applications and financial statement to help*mywifeisajfkassassinationfanatic.com

But anyway, closer to home....

We adopted the cutest baby twelve years ago. Her name is Madeleine (Maddie) and her stated career goal is World Domination.

Here is her picture. I ask you, how could we have known?

Today we live with this. Or rather, she lets us live with her. Charges $2.00 for a hug and "I love you."

And I decorated her bedroom in a tasteful way when she was about nine. Here she is in the bedroom with a friend plotting, plotting, always plotting.....

I knew the times they were a'changin when I found the quilt wadded up in the linen closet.

She is now using an old comforter which looks like it went through several wars, and is completely unacceptable when Better Homes And Gothers comes to photograph our mansion.

So I asked her what she wanted.

"A skull quilt. And I like red, black and white."

"Will you promise to help paint your room?"

"Yes."

I found a quilt on the web.

A couple of skull candles, some black lighting, hey, I can pull it off.


"Do you promise to love, honor and cherish this bedspread throughout your teenage years?"


Roger loudly whispered, "Is she marrying it?" I don't pay him any attention.


"Yes," she said, and we pinky swore.


So Merry Christmas, my Goth goddess!!!

When Black Friday Comes....

All those years I sneered at Black Friday.    "There is nothing in this world," I would announce smugly, "that is worth getting up at 3:00 AM and risking my life for."

I'm just a simple housewife now (kind of like Allie's simple dog)  and I guess that I have lost all control over my um, urges.

I was scanning Black Friday ads several weeks ago and saw a washer/dryer combo at Best Buy and suddenly slipped gently into an alternate universe.  

The thought of using the perfectly servicable machines we owned seemed as antiquated as beating clothes on a rock.  Okay, they're old.  And heck!  These things'll probably pay for themselves in energy and laundry detergent in 150 years or so.

We stayed at a condo this summer at the beach that had a set of beautiful spaceship machines.  We spent most of our vacation playing with them, ignoring the gently rolling waves.

They cooked bacon and served breakfast with freshly squeezed orange juice and a tasteful white rose on a tray with matching linen napkins.

I put Roger in the steam cycle for exactly 1 hour and 48 minutes and he looked ten years younger.

The dogs protested loudly at first, but soon grew to enjoy being fitted with tiny scuba masks and dropped in the  soothing water.    Soon they would run to the machines when we would ask "Do you want to go to the amusement park again and ride the Dog Allergen Removal Cycle?

It was a glorious week.  I had to leave.  I  threw my arms around them and had to be bodily dragged off, weeping hysterically.   But I never seriously considered buying them.  

What on earth is happening to me?   My first car cost  $300.00.  It was a beat up old VW (waves cane).  You young whippersnappers just don't know what it was like back in the olden days.   The first car I ever drove to school was a 1956 Chevy that didn't even need a key.   You just turned the ignition switch.

My parents' first house cost $8000.00.

I simply could not help myself.  But Roger needs to have his wrinkles steamed again, and I've noticed a few fleas on the dogs.  

And they will dress up the house.  I'm thinking of putting them in the living room.   Or at least taking off the doors to the laundry room. 

John Fitzgerald Kennedy. In Loving Memory.

One of my friends used to work for a 

comic magazine.

I took these pictures at his house.

They brought back memories of

being a very little girl and being jealous

of Caroline Kennedy.  She had tons

more toys!  She had her picture in 

the newspaper!  And she HAD A PONY

NAMED MACARONI. 

When her Daddy, President John F. Kennedy,

was killed on that horrible day in 1963, I 

was 4 years old.  I thought it over.

"Well," I mused, "Caroline has a pony, but

I still have a Daddy."   I decided I would

rather have my Daddy.

I wish Caroline's Daddy hadn't been

killed.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

May 29, 1917 – November 22, 1963

President Kennedy
JFK Assassination
Caroline Kennedy
John Fitzgerald Kennedy
Lee Harvey Oswald

50 First Dates

Roger's favorite earrings

Roger never remembers anything...I mean anything...that I tell him.  Carefully chosen stories from my past, proven hits at dinner parties, make him laugh.   Every. Single. Time.  

This is delightful, because it means that I never have to come up with anything new in order to convince him that I am funny.

I've long since come to grips with the irritating thought that perhaps IF HE REALLY CARED he might remember more about my life.  I simply dismiss it as..... a charming quirk.  

The fact that he can describe a football game played five years ago by the University of South Carolina Fighting Gamecocks in excrutiating detail but can never remember the name of my first grade teacher.....for the sake of a happy home life, I simply dismiss it as a...charming quirk. 

In case he ever stops by to read this blog, I'm including a cheat sheet for you, honey!!!   

What was the name of the word that made me lose the Durham Academy First-Fifth Grade Spelling Bee?     

Electrician.

What was the greatest trauma of my elementary school days?

The day that my second grade teacher, Mrs. Woods, yelled "Lorrie, STOP PICKING YOUR NOSE!" in front of the whole class.

What did you think of my last blog post?

It would make William Shakespeare weep with envy.

Charming....quirk.    

I made a bet with him the other week that the University of South Carolina Fighting Gamecock Football Team would lose to the University of Florida Gators.  

It seemed safe enough.  I mean, they've lost the last 13 times.

Winner gets a home cooked meal determined by the loser.  I already had the menu drawn up and posted it on Facebook.

How was I to know that the moon was in the 7th house, and Jupiter FINALLY aligned with Mars?

Florida lost.

I sighed.  "What do you want me to make you, honey?"

"The dish you made me the first time I came over for dinner."

"YOU REMEMBER THIS DISH?"

Not only did he remember it, but he forced me to guess it.  Since I only make two casseroles from scratch, lasagna and this chicken dish I like, I guessed those two.  No. I was stymied.

Finally he had to tell me what it was.  

Spinach Orzo Pie.

It was worth losing the bet just to know that he remembered!!

SPINACH ORZO PIE

2 beaten eggs

1 15 oz jar spaghetti sauce

1/2 cup parmesan cheese

10 oz. frozen chopped spinach

1/2 cup ricotta cheese

1/4 t. ground nutmeg

1/2 cup mozzarella cheese

Small can mushrooms

1 1/2 cups cooked orzo pasta.  (I use whole wheat today).

Cook pasta.  Thaw & drain spinach, squeezing it to get all the water out.  

Mix 2/3 of the spaghetti sauce, eggs, and mozzarella cheese with the pasta.  Line the sides of a deep dish pie pan.

Mix spinach, ricotta cheese & nutmeg.  Place in center of dish.

Top with the last 1/3 of the spaghetti sauce mixed with the mushrooms and parmesan cheese.

Bake at 350 degrees for 20-30 minutes.

Sex, Sick Pedophiles, Selling Sensation, And Stinging Smackdown

So people are rising up to defend a man who published a guide to pedophilia....The Pedophile's Guide To Love And Pleasure.

hmmm.  It started when Cecily tweeted that a friend had tipped her off about the book and has become a media sensation.  Cecily received death threats for doing so and has been accused of "irresponsible tweeting."    I disagree.   I think it's good that this book has been dragged into the hot white glare of public scrutiny.

People are furious at Amazon for selling the book in the first place and are calling for a boycott of all Amazon products.

Check out Twitter and type in #Amazonfail

*redhazeforms*

I started to try to write a reasoned, logical post about this last night and I gave up.   Memories, like the corners of my mind.  Misty water colored memories.

Of the way it was.

Kept getting in the way.

ATTEMPT TO BE REASONABLE

The First Amendment guarantees freedom of the press.   Okay.  Yay for freedom of the press.  However, the United States Supreme Court has ?written many opinions shooting holes in the First Amendment.  So if I were briefing a case on the matter, I would not rest upon the sanctity of the First Amendment.  They've restricted many forms of "free expression" in the past.   

CENSORSHIP

So Avitable thinks that it's a bad thing to censor a book instructing pedophiles how to avoid being clapped into jail or at least get "liter" sentences.  (misspelling by the author of this little treatise on how to seduce kids).

Why?

THE RED HAZE IS BACK

I stopped practicing law because I was being deluged with orders to represent alleged child molesters.    Practicing attorneys are ordered to represent these people or face jail time/disbarment themselves.  Lovely.

Let me just share a few fond memories.

I was ordered to represent a man who not only raped his 7 year stepdaughter, but also sold tickets to customers waiting their turn to rape her.

I was ordered to represent a man who lured hundreds of boys back to his apartment to smoke pot and watch porn movies, then talked a few of them into having a sexual relationship with him.  He took pictures for his scrapbook. 

You know, the ones you have on the shelves to look at with your grandchildren by a crackling fire on a Hallmark commercial?

I was ordered to represent a man whose four year old stepchild drew a picture of a man with an erect organ and "funny, cloudy stuff" shooting out of it.

I was ordered to represent a man who allegedly raped his paraplegic 17 year old nephew in front of the Christmas tree.  There were bruises.  Nasty bruises.

I did an adoption for a mom who conceived a child in a disco, paternity unknown.  The lights were low, you see.  When her child "Nancy" was 2 she married a guy who was the child's  only father figure.  Nancy called him Daddy.   The man's grown children alerted DSS and a thorough investigation was begun.   Nancy,  age 12, swore six ways and sideways that nothing had ever happened except that her Daddy came in the bathroom one day and, seeing that she had just stepped out of the shower, handed her a towel.

When the judge pronounced the words, "Miss Nancy, you are now the official daughter of Mr. Smith," Nancy jumped up, ran to him, and threw her arms around him.  The whole courtroom choked back a tear.

Two years later the mother called me.

"Um....Miss Lorrie...."

"Hey, how are you?"

"Well I want to string up Mr. Smith."

"wha....?"

"Nancy just told me that he had been cornholing her since she was six year old! But she loved him and didn't want to upset me....."

"um...what is cornholing?"

Look it up.

I was called one day by a woman who frantically told me that her 6 year old son had reported that his grandfather had raped him and the case was being tried begining in two hours.   She asked me to represent her son. 

Social Services had assured her that "Sammy" would not have to testify, but had changed their minds and wanted to call him to the stand that afternoon.  I told her that I would charge $250 to take the case to trial for her.

I drove to the courthouse where her son was cleaning himself up after he had vomited and soiled his pants.    I asked her for the money.  She handed it to me in tens and twenties and said,

"Well, there goes Sammy's Christmas money."

I went home, typed up my resume, and found a job in another field.

I don't want to live in a world where supposedly reasonable adults justify selling a book helping perverts have sex with children by screaming "censorship!"

So what?  So it's censored.  So freaking what?  So maybe some kid gets to celebrate his or her 18th birthday without grisly memories.

I want to live in a world where a  mainstream company would refuse to sell a book like this.   Call me a prude if you want, but....

I don't want Sammy's Christmas money.

pedophiles
The Pedophile's Guide To Love And Pleasure
Amazonfail
censorship
cecily
child molester

My Daughter Is A Vampire

Looks like it's dinnertime!

Note:  This piece was written after I read a piece written by someone named "Nerdy Apple Blossom" who posted a professionally snapped picture of her four year old son wearing a Scooby-Do Daphne costume complete with a flaming orange wig and the provacative title "My Son Is Gay"....and then went on to say...."or maybe not.  It doesn't matter one way or the other." 

Darn right.  It doesn't matter...when he is a grown man...whether he is gay or straight. 

But I am repulsed by a title assigning a sexual orientation to a young child by his mother, who should know better.  However, I suppose once again I'm not the average person (nobody would fight me on that) since the piece went viral, she went on TV to show more pictures of the kid, received 35,000 comments and signed with Federated Media. 
  
I do not feel that anyone should talk about young children and sexuality in the same sentence.   Children, by their very definition, have no sexuality.  Nobody, especially not a parent,  should be discussing their child's  past, present or future sexuality.    Because they are children. 

***************************

I guess it's time to tell the truth about my very young child, no matter how embarassing it is.  My daughter is a vampire.

Yep, I'm going to make my own child come out of the closet whether she wants to or not.

***********************

Darnit, I'm always a day late and a dollar short.  I wish I'd thought of exposing her proclivities five years ago, but I vowed when I began this blog that I would never discuss:

1.  Anything dealing with my children that would come back to bite them.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

2.  Anything dealing with bodily fluids.    But I guess I'll have to mention one.  Yes.  Blood.  She goes out to hunt several nights a week and comes home--let's just say I have to use a lot of bleach to get the red out.  ETA: Hey! Thanks for the tip about hydrogen peroxide!!

3.   Anything that even comes close to "children" and "the thing that grown adults do that parents have no business discusssing about their children, for ANY REASON AT ALL."

4.  Disclosing any personal problems my kids have.

5.  Any "cute" stories about their childhood that they wouldn't want to have read, out loud, to the whole English 101 class when they're 16.

6.  Anything that they wouldn't want to have read,  out loud, to the whole English 101 class when they're 16.

7.  But I guess I owe you the whole story.

8.  Several months ago, my daughter decided that she wanted to reveal her true identity to the world on Halloween.

9.  With serious trepidation, I went to Walmart and bought her a $5.00 hood on sale and some new fangs in honor of the occasion and photographed her professionally (since I am a professional photographer, of course).

10.  When she got near her school, she said, "Mom I've changed my mind." 

I shoved her out of the car while it was still rolling and called after her, "It's too late!  I've dreamed of being on the Today show my entire life and I'm not going to let a little thing like you being ostracized in the community, mocked by your peers, or exposed to the world stand in my way.  

Love ya, smooches, NOW GO OUT THERE AND OWN IT."

And you know what?  She ROCKED that look. 

Okay, every parent in the carpool line ran screaming away holding up silver crosses sprinkled with garlic and she lost her Good Conduct Medal when a few tempting kindergarteners wandered in her direction, but it's all good. 

I believe that all children, even vampires, should be accepted and loved. 

Loved? 

Heck, I think they ought to write books and make billion dollar movies about young vampires. 

Oh.

Never mind.

Halloween
My Son Is Gay
nerdy apple blossom
daphne costume
son gay Halloween
bullying gay kids

A New Baby From China!!

A new baby from China...it used to be so common.  Hundreds every month.  Now there are only a few.  But tonight a new baby from China is home after a wait of well over four years.  The story is here.

It's Black & White Wednesday so in honor of our newest citizen here is a picture of girls from Italy, China and Japan holding the remnants of a firecracker that exploded into flags from China, Japan and America.

America.

It'll be okay.  We can fix it.  We always do.