Like Waves Upon The Sand....

...these are the oceanic moments of our lives. Please, who am I kidding. That GodDamn Wave is about burst forth. And me? I'm the optimistic maroon standing in front of the tidal wave about to hit, with the delusion that all will go, oh so much better than last time.

Putting lipstick on this pig won't make it prettier and it won't make the maintenance that needs to be done and paid for go away. But, I've a brand new outlook on it all this year, I don't fucking care...

I can't wait to gossip about all these jack asses. Every last one of the tightly wound boneheads that look down their noses at me, my Blondie and my b-e-a-utiful Sparky. Oooo, neighborhood scandal, their gay!

Earth shattering, I know. Can you believe two gorgeous humans could fall in love! (Insert heavy note of Karin Walker sarcasm) And to think they could grow up and have a loving, committed relationship, be productive and not be condemned by God...oh the tabloids we could write. (Makes this FuckChop sound that much more ignorant, bigoted, uninformed, uneducated and just plain stuck in the dark ages..)

I used to get knots in my stomach worrying about how to make all those country club wanna be's happy. Not anymore. Tonight, when I was asked point blank if I knew why Blondie wasn't going on a mission, I happily looked this individual in the eye and said with NO guilt, "Why, I have no idea." Liar, liar pants on fire!! Like I would fuel that fire. You don't need anymore fodder for your gossip. Find your own Relief Society, back row conversation. My boys don't need you to be talking about their bedroom activities. And, Vera may not like me, but quite frankly, she and the rest of the families who "love" (god damn strained sort of love) my boys don't need the critical eyes and hidebound, condemning behavior.)

Besides, gossip about this neighborhood is my job! I choose who you idiots talk about, ME! And I in turn gossip about YOU!! Hm, hm, ask me if I give a shit...Oh, ha ha, NOT!