Why I'm going to hell.. or at least one reason..

Katsidhe over at Tapetum Lucidum cracked me up yesterday (as she usually does) with a post about prudes that we are surrounded by who can't handle it when we get a bit potty-mouthed at times. Okay, she gets a lot potty-mouthed, but so can I on occasion. I should do that NOW since I lost TWO freaking followers because of my stupid news post yesterday. I mean... What. The. Fuck?! Did I offend 2 meth heads or 2 battered women or what? I don't get it. I'll get over it, but making my way to 100 does not happen by going backwards. Although I think I got a new one yesterday so that took some of the sting away. You didn't come here to hear me rant though, so I'll get on with it. Ahem!

Anyway, Kat's post made me think of something that happened several years ago when my potty mouth tried to get me in trouble with the Lord. Well, kinda... We used to have season tickets to our local minor league hockey team who are no longer here. We had a blast at the games, and pretty much everyone in our section had been season ticket holders in the same seats since the start of the team several years before that.

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If you've never been to a minor league hockey game, hockey fans are a hoot! We can be a rowdy bunch, much like the players because these guys are trying to make it to the big leagues so they play hard. We got many people hooked who hated hockey before actually attending a game.

However, this particular night our top goalie was out with a major injury and wouldn't be back for months, if ever. We were all pretty upset about it, but they had to put in the rookie who was this punk kid from Harvard who hadn't had to start a game yet. As a person, I loved him. As a player, he hadn't proven a thing to us yet. Being the minors, we had to have an amateur (someone who just played in the local men's hockey league) dress as backup on the bench that night because you can't just pick up a goalie overnight like you can in the NHL.

I am normally a very supportive fan, but there is only so much a girl can take. This goalie (who we called Luc-pronounced "loosh") was having the worst game in the history of our team. We were down like 6-1 and our goalie let in another puck. After which, I promptly stood up and screamed, "Luc, you are a sorry sack of SHIT!" I'm sure I looked something like this at the time.

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A man who had been sitting in our section for years with his wife and sometimes with his granddaughters who did nothing but color or sleep at the games got up and came over to my seat. He stood in the row in front of me and leaned over so far that I had to lean back to keep him from being too close to my personal space.

He proceeded to go on and on about how he was a preacher and he didn't appreciate my language in front of children. Of course, I looked over his shoulder and his granddaughters were sound asleep. I let him go on for a few minutes, before I stood up so he would back the hell off.

Me: Are you finished? Because I'd really like to say my peace now. You are at a HOCKEY game, Mister. You have sat in this section and renewed your season tickets year after year when you could move anywhere else in this arena. You know how all of us are in this section, and we have never sat here quietly watching the games. Those kids with you are oblivious to what's going on to the point that they could get nailed in the head with a puck! Feel free to move your season tickets, and I'm sure you'll hear much worse than what has come out of my mouth. So you can go back to your seat, get out of my face, and kiss my ass! I am not in church, and I don't appreciate you coming over here to preach at me.

He went back to his seat with a glance at my parents who were sitting beside me who just looked on stunned that he had even approached us. My mother patted me on the back (gotta love that woman!) and my friends who sat in front of me turned around to ask what the hell he had just said to me. Misty, who had 2 small children of her own, promptly turned around, looking right toward him and said, "FUCK HIM!" God bless her. I wanted to kiss her at that point.

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I mean I'm probably going to hell now, but at least I managed to hold my tongue with the man with the exception of telling him to kiss my ass. It was a hockey game after all, regardless of whether or not we live in the Bible Belt. And I'll have plenty of friends there with me when I go, I'm sure.

By the way, he never changed his seats to another section.

P.S. Kat showed her puppies for all of you menfolk's heart health like Oilfield Trash requested. I didn't want to tell you before now because I wanted to finish my damn story. So go enjoy and show her some love for the sacrifice.

Random Holiday Memories

I'm sorry I have been so neglectful of my followers here, but we had a busy holiday! I went to my parents' town which is about 45 minutes away on Thursday night, and I didn't end up getting home until yesterday. Although Bailey and I came home tired as hell, we had a great time. We had a little bit of drama on Saturday night when we decided that my estranged sister is just plain strange like we always thought, but I won't bore you with that tale. Other than that, it was a great time had by all. Of course, too much money was spent and there was a lot of planning for 10 seconds of unwrapping to end it all way too quickly, but still... I hope you all had a great holiday, too. I look forward to catching up on my Reader and seeing what you all were up to and what goodies you got for Christmas.

I got a Kindle, which I was thrilled about! Ever since my sister and my dad got one, my book supply has been cut off. Now I can get my own a bit cheaper through the Kindle. It's really too bad we can't share them that way, but that's the way it goes.

First I wanted to ask your opinion about something. I was taking care of a neighbor's animals for a few days last week before the holiday, so she had a list of things she needed me to do for her two cats and one dog. The night I went over to receive instructions, she picks up this bag that was laying on top of the Rubbermaid container of kitty litter and hands it to me. Now I thought it was probably a treat for Bailey or something, but she says, "Here, this is some banana bread for you."

I ended up coming home, looking down at the bag in my hand, and walking straight to the garbage to throw it away. Am I horrible for being that way? I mean, it was sitting on her CAT LITTER! Whether it was touching it or not, SHE'S been handling the litter when she has touched that container in the past. I'm sorry, but that was just gross!

Keeping her animals was a trip anyway, and I really hope she decides not to make the trip she had planned for this week. Her damn dog wouldn't go outside the first night. She was huddled in the corner of her bedroom shaking like I was the Jolly Green Giant come to eat her. What the.. ?? The dog knows me, for God's sake! The cats weren't any problem, other than having to clean out the litter box every day. I have never seen anyone do a litter box the way she does, but I guess everyone is picky about the way they take care of their animals. Of course, the dog had left a present for me on the floor when I got there the next day.

As you know from my past stories, my mother is a trip! She has this habit of affectionately butchering famous people's names, mainly athletes. For example, the long time hockey player Chris Chelios was "Cheerios" to her his entire career. The names she comes up with have brought us hours of amusement. Even our former Steelers coach, Bill Cowher, has always been "Coward" to her. Of course, we all think that one is fitting with the way he coached in the playoffs, but that's a rant for another day.

So while we are talking about the NFL over the weekend she's talking about the Steelers upcoming game against the Cleveland Browns. She says something about that guy "Wiley Coyote." My sister and I look at each other like, "Who the hell is that?" Of course Mom looks to Dad and says, "You know who that Wiley Coyote kid is." He nods and says it's Colt McCoy. Bless him, he's been with her so long that it's just second nature to know what she's talking about sometimes. Needless to say, the whole weekend we would just look around and say, "You mean, Wiley Coyote?" and it would give us a good laugh.

Doesn't this handsome kid look like Wiley Coyote? It's too bad the Steelers are going to have to make him run for his life on Sunday.

On a similar note, a pet peeve of mine is typos or when editors don't do their jobs. Does anyone know where I can get a job doing that? Proofreading and finding little "oops" things in movies are things that drive people around me crazy. It's just me. I can't help it! Feel free to point out mine, because I'd hate for someone to think I can't freaking talk right. Although sometimes, of course, it's on purpose. 

Jumble Love and Piss Brownies.. You heard me right!

Jumble Mash gave me an award! Isn't it cool? I absolutely love it, and since I love it when people think what I have to say is funny, that makes it all the more better! Yes, I said "more better" but I just got an award, so did you expect me to be coherent? Really! Anyway... Thank you, Jumble Mash! I am so tickled you found me (or I found you.. however it happened) because you have done so much for me and my little blog. You rock, woman! All of you other people, go follow her if you aren't already. You will not regret it, and the fact that she points out funny blogs should show you that she is one funny chica.

So there are a few rules to this award, but they are pretty simple.

1. Thank the person who gave you the award. (Check, check! Done it twice now.Once here and once there.) 

2. Tell a funny story to accept the award.. or at least tell a joke. (Oh the pressure!)

3. Only pass on to ONE other blogger. (Only ONE???? Holy crap! Do you know how hard it is to limit a Taurus???)

4. Now stand up and do a happy dance. (Check, check! Doing that for the second time now, and no, you can't have video of it! It's not a pretty sight. Trust me.) 

Funny story.. Funny story.. Come to me, dammit! I got nothin'. 

(Several minutes later... ) Don't you just want to smack that blinking cursor at times like these? Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to make that cursor blink, anyway?

(Still later... ) Oh, yeah! I was telling a friend about this story on Facebook the other day, and I've been meaning to blog about it, so here goes. 

I used to be the President of the Board for the Booster Club for a local minor league hockey team. We raised money to provide things for the hockey players because most of them basically came to town with clothes, their hockey equipment, and not much else, especially the single ones. Plus, we had parties and things for them. Anyway, we had this guy in the front office who used to fight us every chance he got on things we wanted to do. He really was the only obstacle we had at the time, and he was an arrogant ass. He would tell us we could do something only to wait until we had spent money on said project before changing his mind. Like I said.. He was an ASS!

Now we used to tailgate before and after hockey games on the weekends, because you know southerners will tailgate for anything. Everyone had their specialties that they made and contributed to the food pile, and one of our friends made the most awesome brownies you have EVER had. I think they had some kind of cream cheese icing on them. You know anything with cream cheese is good, because I'm pretty sure it was made by God himself.

So as the night was winding down, I forget for sure, but I think it was my friend Misty who was trying to give away the last of the food. She accidentally flipped the last "awesome brownie" onto the pavement in the parking lot. Five second rule, right? It was immediately scooped up and put back into the pan. Misty and I end up getting into a conversation about how many drunk guys had probably pissed in the parking lot, so there was NO WAY either of us were going to eat it. But we hated to waste it.

Right about this time, up walks the asshole asking if there were any of those brownies left. How perfect! We didn't waste any time handing it over with a smile. We got a hysterical laugh out of how we made him eat the piss brownie, whether there was really piss on it or not. Of course, he thought we were a couple of Simpletons (and I proudly wear that name now thanks to Simple Dude, so note the capital S!) who couldn't help but giggle about his awesomeness as he was walking away. Little did he know. It was our little private victory for all the anguish he had put us through. Well, it wasn't so private since we pretty much told anyone who would listen what we had done. 

Now, who do I give this wonderful gem of an award to? Honestly, I think I'll pay the Jumble Love forward to the Simple Dude, since I already gave him some blog love anyway. Go visit him if you haven't already. He makes me laugh, and I love anyone who makes me literally laugh out loud.