Tazed and Dazed

I really don't even know where to begin the last few days have been so crazy, or I was crazy and the day was normal. Jury is still out on that one.

First I let my son talk me into buying him a new pair of skateboarding shoes. After asking what the hell the difference was s, other than the extra $30 they cost, he was quick to inform me that everyone knows the difference. So I beg you please don't be stupid like me, do your research and know the different brands of skateboarding shoes, keep your list updated. Someday someone may ask you that all important question and you don't want to stand there and be stupid like I was. Oh and just to save you further embarrassment they are DC's not CD's like I ask the store clerk for.

I have two dogs, hell-hounds actually. The chihuahua doesn't give a shit who or what comes rolling up in this house as long as they don't leave. You go to leave and he is going to get you. Until recently the only way around this was to simply back out the door but it gets a little embarrassing to have to tell all your guests to go out the door backwards. Then there is the Pug, Satan's right hand disciple. Very loving and gentle and really only has one bad habit as opposed to the chihuahua who could probably pull a diagnosis of schizophrenia and OCD. But the too hates for anyone to go out a door if she is going to be left behind. She won't bite but will grab your pant legs or shoes and try to pull you back in. I only stop her when the Mormon's come knocking door to door so I can be one of the  few that will be saved someday. I rather enjoy watching her tugging at them. But this week a stroke of genius hit me. I don't have those often so really someone should have run out and bought me a cake or something. Instead I settled for Cheez-It's that were already in the pantry. Anyway I keep a tazer in my purse, just a small one. I picked it up, turned it on and armed it to check the battery strength. I need it to be strong, just in case the Mormon's come back before my tolerance level builds back up. These dogs scattered like they were shot at. Now when I go out I simply pick it up turn it on and let it buzz, they won't come near the door. Before you email people get the urge to turn me in to animal control let me assure you neither dog has ever been tazered, they just don't like to hear it. So yesterday I am going out on my balcony to have a cigarette and here comes both hell-hounds charging at me. I picked up the tazer, made it buzz and as usual they scattered. I go to put it back in my purse and end up tazing myself. So learn this little lesson too, ALWAYS make sure you turn the silly thing off after terrorizing your dogs. Those things pack a punch!

Next I leave to run to town to pick up a few things at the grocery store to cook a delicious dinner. OK, I lied I went to Golden Corral. I came home and realized I had missed two doses of my medication because thinking to take them with me would have just been too simple and I don't do simple well. My doctor has recently my dose of Klonipin. He may think it will get me out of my pajama's. I hurriedly took a dose and instead of  putting them in the lock box I just sat  them in I just left them on the kitchen island. My sons and I come back from eating and a little later it was time for another dose. This is a bottle of 90 pills that was just filled Monday. My bottle was almost empty. So I counted up what I had taken and what was left and there are 56 pills missing from the bottle. So then I had to go through the whole reporting a theft, police reports and then delivering those reports to the dr, the pharmacy and my insurance company to get them replaced. But what bothered me was who did it and how. My door was not messed with in any way so the police say whoever did it had to have had a key. No one has a key to this house but me, my son and the people that work here. So then I turn all suspicious of anyone that even looked in my direction. As it turns out it was a random theft, they have a suspect, Jamario, and he admitted to taking them to sell, he said he thought I just wouldn't notice them if he only took some of them instead of the whole bottle. Bitch seriously? I wouldn't notice 56 missing Klonopin?. To me that would be equal to someone coming in your house and stealing your first born child and you not noticing it for a couple weeks. He didn't have a key, he was just a good lock picker. But now I have this whole other set of worries to deal with, I fear he isn't going to be able to make a living at his chosen career of selling drugs. Think about this a minute. On my kitchen island was also a bottle of Soma and a bottle of Ambien both with 90 pills, there was also a bottle of 60 Norco's and my dog's Phenobarbitol with 90 in the bottle. All newly filled  This idiot left them and only took the Klonopin. Now here the Soma and the Norco would have more street value and he doesn't take them? Your a thief man, be a good one and don't give a shit if I "notice" you took them or not, just snatch the damn bottles and run, sort out what you do and do not have that is of value later, in a safe place. Then he is picked up for suspicion in a matter of 3-4 hours and within 10 minutes confesses to it all without even finding out if they have any evidence on him which they didn't. But it get's better, the idiot then actually shows them how he picked the dead bolt lock to get in here. Tells them he saw me pick them up at the pharmacy and followed me home, then watched a few days until he saw me leave. However enlightening he thought he was being all that managed to do was get him a stalking charge added to his felony drug charges. Then he tells the police that he was going to siphon some gas from a car (again be a real thief man and just do a drive off at the pump somewhere (obviously NOT getting caught wasn't high on your list of priorities that afternoon anyway). He realized that he didn't have gloves and had been holding the hose with his bare hands and leaving finger prints so he just dropped the whole thing and ran. By now I'm kind of feeling sorry for the idiot, you know you left fingerprints, have no clue you also left a real good DNA sample on the end of that hose you were sucking gas out of and yet you leave it at the scene and run so they won't know it was you? Thank God I had my tazer and gun with me, he might have accidently killed himself while stealing from me, he just isn't bright. But now I worry about Jenieshia, Qenieshia, Jamario Jr, the twins Tenieshia and Lenieshia, Chin Moo Shoo (I suspect  he was the result of an affair during one of Jamario Sr. prior incarcerations) and the baby Venieshia. Who the hell is going to buy pampers and grape Kool-aide for the baby's bottle now that Jamario Sr is going back to jail? I worried for a bit about the baby she is pregnant with and him not being their to help her pick out a name and all but then decided I could cross that one off because they don't seem to have much of an imagination and surely she can pick out a new alphabet letter to stick on the "enieshia" by herself. So the police call us down to the station to do a line-up to see if we can pick the guy up. I don't know what part of "I wasn't home I was at Golden Correl picking off the chicken skin to stuff my face with when it happened and didn't see anything" that they didn't get. But we go, because right now I am sucking up to the police to gain access to the old 3 story building that they are in right now, built in 1859 and supposedly haunted when they move to their new building so we can do a ghost hunt in there. Of course we could identify no one and went on our merry way. Somehow the conversation with the cop got turned around to pot smoking. Now I have always taught my children not to do drugs, there is a fear they may want me to share with them or something. What does this cop do? He looks at my son and says "Look if you ever feel you need to smoke pot then do it in your own house or on your own balcony because we don't care if it's in your own house. If anyone calls us and says we smell pot coming from the upstairs apartment or the house next door we tell them we have worse things to worry about but if they see that person get in the car to drive then call us.:" In less than 10 minutes that cop was able to undo 17 years of training. I wanted to kill him.

On the way home we stop at the Kangaroo gas station so I could get gas and buy cigarettes. The two clerks refuse to sell me the cigarettes because I have my 17yr old sons in the car with me. I reminded them that I don't think they have a good grasp of the law, it doesn't work that way. We go round and round. Then she makes a mistake by placing her hand on my arm, I don't like being touched by strangers, how do I know they didn't just finish scratching their ass or picking their nose? I ask her politely to remove her hand and explained I don't like being touched. She removed it and then 10 seconds later put it right back again. I wasn't so nice that time, I admit to calling her a moron and roughly pushing her hand away. She says she is going to call the police. I saved her the time and called them myself, by now I have their cell phone numbers and they are on speed dial. So the cops come, tell her she can't touch me if I ask her not to and make her sell me the cigarettes. I'm sure it wasn't nice that I gloated on the way out the door while saying "What now bitch?!" But it felt good anyway.

I come home and am so relieved that the hectic day is over, my dog has survived her first life saving treatment and is doing good and I don't have to deal with anyone else the rest of the night. So I wanted to sit at the computer and redesign Lolas's web site to thank all those that donated money, thoughts, prayers, toys, treats and clothes during her illness. My Pug Sluts are the best people in the world, they rallied when they didn't have too and helped save my dog. So I take my meds thinking it won't take long to design and put up the new blog designs and write a quick blog to them. I was wrong, ran into a design problem that took me a minute to figure out so it took a little longer to do. I promptly fell asleep, fell completely out of my computer chair and slept right there in the floor until The Devil's Advocate wanders through here and finds me. He panics, thinking I have keeled over dead, then it all became hilarious and we laughed for hours over it. He is still teasing me today.

Finally I go to bed only to woke up at 1 am by the phone ringing. I answer, it's my sister, whispering that someone is scratching on her door. I tell her to call the police. She doesn't want to. I tell her to look out and see if she can see anyone. She did and saw the neighbors cat scratching at the door to be let in. We hang up and I go back to bed. This happens three more times in the next two hours, all three times it was the same cat and I am now thinking in my head of ways to kill my sister without getting caught.

Then 3 am rolls around and my phone rings again. This time it is my daughter, Fantasy Barbie. I can't understand a thing she is screaming except "Help, I need help!!!", in the background  I hear thumping and bumping and a cat screaming. I am getting a little hysterical and ask if she needed me to call 911. Even though it does always amuse me if someone calls someone else to call 911 for them instead of just using that phone call to do it themselves and have support on the phone with them. She says now but can I please come to her house right away because her husband was at work and he refused to come. Ok, that was my clue that it really wasn't anything serious or he would have flown home. Her problem? The cat had killed a mouse, jumped up in her lap and presented her with his prized gift. She freaks, runs and locks her self in the bedroom (did she really think that cat was going to get in that closed door if she didn't lock it?), she then screams for several minutes before calling her husband and then me. I told her I was not driving an hour at 3 am only to dispose of a dead baby mouse that she needed to suck it up and get rid of it herself. It took me 45 minutes to "walk" her through disposing of that dead mouse. The whole time she is screaming in my ear and jumping from furniture to furniture so that she didn't have to walk on the same floor the dead mouse was on. My sister lives closer to her, about 5 minutes away but since she was traumatized by the neighbor cat scratching on the door I didn't want to call her, she would never have walked out her door to get to her car anyway with that viscous tabby cat on the loose outside.

I finally get them all calmed down, turn my phone off in case either one of them are attacked by any more viscious cats or mice and have another "crisis". Came into the kitchen and put back on the 10 pounds I lost last week by having a nice big bowl of Red Velvet Cake ice cream. Finally went back to bed and slept like a baby.

Today I send Demon Seed for a haircut because he has a job interview. I told him not to rock the Adam Lambert hairdo this time and no color streaks in it because by no imagination can he sing like Adam so I was pretty sure he wasn't coming home with a singing gig. Sorry Adam, you know I love you but I told Demon Seed the same think I told you, that that style is not going to help you climb the corporate ladder in any company. I knew I should have went with him because his idea of NOT rocking the Adam do was this:

Not exactly what I had in mind guys! He says he had to because he is on the prowl for a new girlfriend, why I don't know, he won't keep any of them for more than a few weeks without breaking up with them because they get "clingy".

Then he redeemed himself by striking this pose.  I had nothing to do with this one Adam, it was all freestyle. I told you I was pretty sure he is the result of a sexual encounter with a demon Incubus.

So now I am off to bed, hoping to avoid any more Incubus's that produce more Adam children.