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Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Lions, Tigers, and Bears

I had a totally different post prepared for this morning but I changed my mind. A woman’s prerogative, right? Sometime in May I’ll post about my adventures in New York City with Sweetman. He makes my eye-brains cross, you know. It’s a good thing I love him.

Anyway, this morning while walking the dogs, I thought my heart stopped for a few seconds. My hands went clammy and tingly. Flashes of heat ran through me. Unrelenting dizziness took me over. I had to grab a near by tree.

I know, I know…you all are worried now. No, I didn’t have a heart attack or stroke. And yes, I’m going through that woman-morph disease they call the change but I don’t believe any of these were to blame.

You see, Friday’s coming. Okay….now I’ve got your eye-brains crossing.

You see, I signed up for the A to Z April Challenge put on by the blogger at Tossing it Out.  You know, where you blog about a word beginning with the particular letter of the day.

Right now I’m asking myself, “What have I done? You’re such a silly-nilly.”  That, I am. Biting off more than I can chew. Yup. That’s me. Silly-nilly.

Do I have plan? Kinda. I worked on one while flying to New York and when I got stuck at a letter…well…I’ve pretty much decided to do the Toastmaster’s Table Topics approach.

Let me explain Table Topics:

Someone throws out a word or topic for you to speak about in two minutes. However, if you can’t think about what to say about what you were given to speak about talk about something else. That’s the plan. I’ll write the letter and if I can’t think of anything….well…I’ll write about whatever comes to mind. Being unconventional is a good thing…I hope.

But, it doesn’t relieve me from being overwhelmed. Oh my, lions, tigers, and bears!

That’s all for now folks.

Happy blogging, reading, and writing!

Shelly

P.S. Remember to save a library today!

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Saturday with Sir Poops-A-Lot: Roses for Ms. Dog

Dear Ms. Dog:

I hope this letter finds you well. Has your heart been growing fonder? Curious? Mummsy says its best to contact you once a week. She says absence makes the heart grow fonder. Actually, I’m feeling a little sad and lonely. I’m going crazy from not hearing from you.

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That’s me on the bed. I’ve been somewhat mopey all week. You’re on my mind, Ms. Dog. Before I go to sleep. While I’m sleeping. When I wake up. Even at my food bowl, I think of you and your beautiful, full cheeks and soft-looking fur.

The other day while on my walk I came across a red rose for you.

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In fact, I thought maybe you’d like a whole row of these scented flowers.

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Or, maybe a row of hedges, a tree, and a light post.

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I’ve scented each one myself just for you.

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Or, maybe you’d like a scented electrical box.

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Whatever your heart desires.

Hope you like these. Let me know. In my thoughts.

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

LLKK

Thursday, March 24, 2011

An Angel’s Sin

This is a WIP. It’s not been completely edited but wanted to get an opinion. Thanks all,

Shelly

“What have you done!” A voice exploded into the room. His voice. The Almighty’s.

I couldn’t help but keep my head lowered and watched blood seep out of the chest wounds in the human. He deserved it. The woman and I should’ve done this sooner. Besides, it was my appointed job to protect children. How can one truly protect without taking out the source of evil.

A burst of laughter came from behind me. “I told you, angle boy, told you we’d end up being buddies. Looks like you’ll loose your place in heaven as one of the good boys.”

“Shut up, Phil,” I said, looking up at the woman. Tears poured from her eyes and dropped into the blood pooling on the side of the man’s body. Her fingers loosened around the gun and it fell into the red liquid. She wiped her hands off on the front of her shirt, bowled over, and let out an agonizing moan.

“The baby,” she cried. She lifted her head and stared into my eyes. Not that she could see me but her pupils cut right through me. The human eye cannot see angels unless we allow it.

“Ariel,” the Almighty called again. Yeah. I knew I went against His orders but I had to save the little girl. I found it hard to be like Gabriel. Business-like. Unattached to all humans. This was the proper thing to do. Stay unattached but I love every child I’ve ever been assigned to.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Phil asked. “Afraid?”

I looked away from the woman and back at the demon. His head tilted from side to side and his split tongue slithered quickly out of his mouth.“Thought I told you to shut up. Take the evil human’s soul and get. Out. Of. My. Sight.” My patience wore thin having Philatemes around. He’d been hounding me for weeks. Taunting me ever since we’d met.

“Don’t you wish to come join ranks with my master? I mean, there’s no way the big guy’s going to let you enter his Kingdom ever again. You know that.”

“Let’s get something straight, no matter what the Almighty decides I’ll never join ranks with you or your horde. I’m not like you and never will be. Your kind disgusts me especially when you believe its okay to prey on vulnerable humans especially the babies and the children on earth. It makes me sick to think the Almighty considers your kind access to the human world.”

The demon grinned. “You know why I like you, angel boy?” He pointed his claw-like finger into the air. “You say whatever’s on your mind. Bad. Good. Indifferent. And, you don’t even care what your master thinks. Kudos to you, buddy.” He walked toward the human’s bleeding corpse and stooped beside it. Black-like tentacles streamed through his body and wrapped themselves around the dead man.

The woman screamed, writhing beside me, holding onto her pregnant belly. The baby would be here soon.

“Looks like another human soul ‘s about to be born,” the demon said. He closed his eyes and breathed in sucking the soul from the dead man’s body through his dark extensions. The body went hard and turned blue-grey. The stench of sulfur filled my nose as I watched a mist surround the demon, the human’s wicked soul.

A bright light flashed around us. My brothers’ wings surrounded me and the presence of the Almighty engulfed the room. The glow warmed me on the outside but chilled my insides.

“You need to come with us,” my brothers said in unison, grabbing my shoulders.

I raised my hand mid-air to shake myself loose of their hold. “No,” I said. “This baby needs to be delivered safely. This woman needs me.”

The woman squealed and panted more. Knees bent, she heaved her chest forward and blew out air in the midst of a loud wail. Sweat soaked her forehead.

I looked up into the Almighty’s light. It’s heat warmed my skin. “You can’t possibly expect me to leave her here like this?”

“The woman has sinned, Ariel. No thanks to you,” He said. “She has consequences to pay for her actions and so do you.”

“Not until I deliver this baby and make sure she’ll be okay.” I turned to look at Philatemes.

He shrugged and loosened the body his tentacles sucked from. “Good luck, buddy. You know where to find me.” He flailed his arms in front of him like a magician and disappeared along with the human’s dark soul. Glad he left.

I looked back into the glowing warmth, my Commander in Chief, while my winged brothers encircled me and the woman. “Can you not have pity on this woman? The baby? Have you no real mercy?” Something wet ran down my cheek, a tear perhaps. My emotions were getting the best of me these days. Angels weren’t supposed to be entitled to these.

“Why did you defy my orders?” The Almighty choked out His last three words.

“I’ll answer that after I deliver this baby.” I turned back toward the woman and ripped her skirt down the center, letting down the veil that hid me from her sight.

The thrashing woman’s sudden wide eyes said she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. An angel. She grabbed both my wrists. “Oh, thank God,” she screamed. “Thank God!” Her head laid back onto the bloodied carpet.

“Seize him,” the Almighty said.

My brothers grabbed my arms, and my wrists slid from the woman’s clammy grip.

“No!” I yelled, struggling to free myself. “Where’s your mercy? You. Can’t. Do. This.”

“Take him to my courtroom. There he will be tried fairly before I decide his fate.”

My mind urged my wings to unfold but somehow my brothers wrapped me in my own feathers. They were my vice for now. It paralyzed my body along with the fading screams of the woman in labor.

As I felt my body be lifted to the sky, I sent my mental energy out to the woman. Since I couldn’t be there to help her, my force would. That’s all I could give. Another power gifted to angels.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Sir Poops-A-Lot’s Response to Ms. Dog

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Dear Ms. Dog:

I must apologize but mummsy hasn’t been at her computer all day. To be honest, I don’t know her password and have to wait for her to turn it on. Even though I’m highly intelligent, some things get by me except exquisite beauty.

You wrote you’ve gained some weight. No problem. Mummsy calls it the classic body size. Most women are a size eight and up with curves. All the more to snuggle with. I’m more into cuddling than frolicking.

You see, I’ve just entered the beginning of my senior years. I prefer a relaxing atmosphere with a touch of romance. Soft music. Candle light. Lounging on my bed chewing on a scrumptious Greenie Bone. Do you like Greenie Bones? They’re good for your teeth and make your breath sweet. I ‘d be glad to share with you…my Twizzlers and pretzels, too.

I do hope you accept my proposal.

For now, my sweet, good night.

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Sir Poops-A-Lot in Love

This morning while mummsy was cruising the blogs, I fell in love. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I know we could make it work. Her name? Unknown. But I’ll refer to her as Ms. Dog.

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Mummsy found Ms. Dog on the blog page, Puking on the Inside, http://laurenastevensblog.com/. For every comment left, her mummsy is donating five dollars to the Japan Relief Fund.

It broke my heart when mummsy turned off her computer this morning. I wanted to stare at that work of loveliness. She’s breathtaking. Mesmerizing. My heart is beating fast. She makes me weak in all four knees.

So, I’ve decided to write this letter:

Dear Ms. Dog:

This is a picture of me, yours truly, Sir Poops-A-Lot.

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I’m a single white Chines Crested-Powder-Puff. Unlike my bald brothers and sisters, I’ve got hair. Lots of it. I frequent hours of torture to maintain my handsomeness for the right woman. And, I believe that’s you.

I love lounging almost anywhere. Preferably, the couch, my personal house, and various beds scattered throughout mummsy and daddy-o’s house.

I enjoy watching television while I munch on Twizzlers, sweet kettle corn, and pretzels. I’ll be glad to share.

I love to take long walks and see the sights in my neighborhood.

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Or, smell them.

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I also enjoy the water.

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I promise not to hump you but I can’t promise the hair ball won’t. He humps everyone and anything. The good thing is this he can’t get anyone pregnant but neither can I. I’m responsible, you know.

I’d really like to meet you. Maybe this weekend. Mummsy and daddy-o are leaving me and the hairball with the sitter tomorrow. It’ll almost be like being alone.

I’ll fix us a nice bone, get some DVDs…LassieBeverly Hills Chihuahua, perhaps. I’ll even fluff up my bed for you.

What do you say, my beauty?

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Balance

This morning my alarm went off at five am but I rolled over and stole another hours sleep. My body refused to get up again. Life’s been like this since December.

For years I jumped out of bed to get to the gym. I did spin, boot camp, and weight training. Now I walk the dogs or do a twenty minute interval training session.

You see, my body kicked my arse because I made my schedule demand a lot from me. Mind over matter has always been my motto. No pain, no gain. Humans control their minds so they control their destiny deal. This isn’t always a good thing.

Well, my body is fighting back. Adrenal fatigue the doctor says. Its affected everything, including my writing, blogging, and reading schedule. Since the diagnosis, I’ve had to modify everything in my life. Pace myself. Mentally, it’s driving me nuts. I’m used to cramming as much as possible into one day and finishing my day’s goals before I hit the pillow.

So I’ve come to the conclusion I’ll be blogging three times a week only because I need the time to work on the holes in Secondhand Shoes. And, those things keep popping up or rather tripping me up. A writer’s work is never done. There’s always room for improvement.

Plus, I need the energy to work forty hours a week for a paycheck, clean my house, and keep Sweetman happy. But my finished novels and WIPs can’t suffer because of my past stubbornness. I have to write. It makes me the happiest besides being around Sweetman.

Right now, I’m struggling to find the balance to do it all without killing myself. That’s something else I’ll put on my vision board. I’m still collecting items to make that. Maybe I’ll finish it when April’s full moon comes. Everything takes time.

Not to mention, I signed up for the April challenge. Posting a blog everyday using a letter from the alphabet. So over the weekend I plan to hand write as many of those blogs as I can to save me some time and energy.

Anybody else out there struggling with anything like this? Health issues? Demanding work schedule? Family?

Happy blogging, reading, and writing!!

Shelly

P.S. Save a library!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Saturdays with Sir Poops-A-Lot: No-No Left

Woe is me! Woe is me!

Yesterday was the worst day of my life. I watched No-No pack her things in garbage bags and boxes. No more socks. No more all-you-can-eat-buffet twenty-four-seven.The room is empty. Totally void of her existence.

The Sausage came to pick her up. She chose him over me. I begged her to stay. I followed her up and down the stairs. “Please don’t go, please.” I begged.But she ignored me and petted my head.

I told the Sausage, “She was my No-No, not his. She’s been mine for the last ten years. He doesn’t know her like I do. She’s my buddy!” I remember planting myself firmly between them before they walked out the door for the last time. They actually walked over me like I wasn’t there. My heart is broken….sniffle…sob…sniffle.

I can’t understand why she left with someone named Sausage. He doesn’t smell like one or, look like one. 

Plus, mummsy says, the Sausage is the reason why No-No’s ribs popped out of place to begin with. “They were probably in a strange sex position,” she said. “He was probably twisting her like a pretzel and won’t admit it.”

I don’t like him already. Twisting my No-No like one of my favorite snacks. How could he? She’s been in so much pain. Mummsy says she’s milking it though. Calls her a hypochondriac. Whatever that is.

Anyway,hair ball’s confused.He whimpered all night for No-No. He doesn’t like sleeping in his own bed alone. He’s afraid the boogies will come and get him. He acts all tough around the big dogs in the neighborhood but he’s really a sissy.

Daddy-o is distraught. He yelled through the house last night. Paced back and forth a lot. I paced with him.He even sprayed her room down with Febreeze. “It stinks in here,” he said. But I disagreed. It was the last remnant of her.He didn’t listen to me either. He went on a rant instead.

“She told me she wasn’t going to take the finals to her college courses. What’s wrong with that girl!? She gave up her job! She’s moving to New York without having a job to go to! The guy’s a looser! What’s wrong with her! Oy vey! Oy vey!”

He repeated himself over and over.

Mummsy rolled her eyes and said, “I get my office back.” She looked happy about it all. How could she?

You know, this morning I was going to write about my sock campaign and about my plans for my butt-huffing seminars but I’m too upset to think straight. My life will never be the same again. My No-No’s gone but daddy-o says she’ll be back.

Mummsy said, “If she does, she’ll have to find her own place. I’m not giving up my office again.”

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

A Book Review: Robb Logger’s, Don’t Go There

DontGoThere

Here’s a little flavor from Robb’s book:

The best Sweden could offer was a hotel likely made by a manic obsessive compulsive Swede with an ice pick and a lot of free time. Greece was a haven for dirty old men with cameras. The Land of Oz didn‟t have a good fairy or a wicked witch. Russia turned out to be the world‟s equivalent of the fat girl you would think twice about at the end of the night, even with their nine last calls, and Mexico scared the hell out of me.

Anyone can buy this book for ninety-nine cents on Amazon.com. It’s worth every laugh. It will tickle your brain, and make your cheeks hurt. Make sure you’re sitting in a pair of Depends. You might pee yourself, too.

Let’s move on….(Robb’s line, not mine)

One thing I like about Robb’s writing, he’s got manners and is consistent with such. He always addresses readers as dear readers or dear and patient readers.

Robb took careful time in doing research on certain countries for vacation spots so you wouldn’t have to. He used their websites’ homepages and Wiki-pedia for the important information that he delivered in his book. Thank you, Robb. I believe you’ve made your parents proud. Thank you for the warnings why no one should visit these places. Beware of perverts and hagglers. They lurk in other countries, too.

Let’s move on…

He researched the following countries for you: Sweden, Greece, Australia, Mexico, Russia, Ireland, Switzerland, Egypt, and Canada.

Mexico scared me the most. Been there myself. And yes, it scared the hell out of me. Too bad the book didn’t exist in 1997, the year I went there.I’ll never forget the tugboat ride and people leaning over the side puking. I’m glad I didn’t partake in the hospitality, tequila served with worms. Drinking and a bobbing boat don’t mix. My stomach had no problems churning on its own. Robb’s book brought back the vivid memory. Thanks Robb.

As for the other countries, he does a great job getting you to laugh all through the book. Robb you’re gifted with divine humor. God’s been good to you.

However, I do believe he’d like some visitors because he promoted Canada. At the end he announced his birthplace. Thessalon, Ontario. I believe he’d like a date or something. Any eligible woman. Possibly a midget. I think he likes really short women. He made my eyes tear for him.

Sorry Robb, but I’m happily married with five dramatic daughters and two dogs. My dating days are over, buddy. But I’ll be glad to read your next book. When is that one coming out?

Okay, enough of the blah, blah…(that’s my line)

Buy Robb’s book. The price is cheap.

It’s funny. Believe me. I’ve already purchased a box of adult diapers for his next book.

Also, check out his blog for a daily laugh:  http://inspiredbycaffeinenicotine.blogspot.com/

That’s all for now folks!

Happy blogging, reading, and writing!

Shelly

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Happy Endings: But They’re Not Always Real and Wild Cherry

Heroic conflict resolved in the heroic character’s favor. Do not slay the heroic character. Even if the heroine’s victory is bittersweet, it must be victory, usually good over evil. Even if she does not win the heart of her romantic interest, she will have proven herself deserving of it. James V. Smith, Jr., You Can Write a Novel

But why? I ask. Why can’t we end our novels where the protagonist dies or ends up homeless? Why does there always have to be a happy ending? Real life can be really sad and depressing. That’s real. Happy, happy isn’t always real.

I mean, life doesn’t always have a happy ending. People become addicted to drugs.

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Sometimes they stay addicted and die from the crap.

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Some people start out happy together.

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Sometimes Princesses aren’t happy.

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Sometimes they die tragically.

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Babies and children die.

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Parents murder their children.

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Sometimes children murder their parents.

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Innocent people go to jail. Sometimes they get executed. 

 

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People may start out happy and rich, but may end up dying sad and poor.

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So, I ask again. Why? Why does there always have to be a happy ending when in real life sad endings happen. Isn’t fiction supposed to be as real as possible?

The difference between reality in fiction and real life---it has to be real. (Can’t remember the name of the writer for this quote).

 

Hope I didn’t depress anybody but I was in a funky mood. Thinking does that to me sometimes. So, while you ponder this question I found something funky for you to listen to:

Before I go and ask you the final question to this blog, wanted you all to know that I had no clue Wild Cherry was actually a white band. Discovered it when I searched for the video. Talk about living a sheltered life. Attended Lutheran and Baptist schools. Also, had an overbearing mother. That’ll do it to anyone.

Okay. Back to that pesky question. What do you think? Do you think fictional novels should always end happy, and the protagonist should live or, end up with absolutely nothing?

That’s all for now folks!!!

Happy blogging,reading, and writing!!!

Shelly

P.S. Save a library!

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie Ice Cream

Recently, Sue W. wrote a blog that inspired me to write today’s diddy. You can find Ms. W.’s blogs at: 

http://darkrae.blogspot.com/

http://cafecopaim.blogspot.com/

Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie Ice Cream

I bowled over. Cramps grabbed my abdomen out of no where. It brought back the memories of those days when I went through Tampons like candy. There’s no way it could be what my mother called Auntie Rose but it sure as hell felt like it. I’m cursed for sure if it is.

Another surge of pain clutched my back. “Ow…ow…ow,” I moaned. It is what I think it is.

“What’s wrong now, Contessa?” Arthur asked. His hands on his hips and eyebrows raised. “You sure do whine a lot. Your change was over days ago.”

“It feels like I started my period.”

“You’re period?” A smile stretched across his face.

“Yes. You didn’t tell me I’d have to endure this after the change. The pain is twenty times worse than when I was mortal.” Never thought after the change from human to vampire I’d still experience a menstrual. I’m immortal for crying out loud. Perfect in every way so I thought. “You should’ve sucked me dry. I should’ve been your meal not your mate. Now I have to endure this every month. I’d rather die.” My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor.

Arthur walked toward me and stooped down. His cold hand cupped my chin. “Is there anything I can get you to ease your pain?”

I looked into his intense black eyes. They used to be blue. Love still shined through them despite his impatience and immortality. “Chocolate ice cream.” Didn’t think I'd still crave that either. In fact, I think I’d let a human live for a half gallon of Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie ice cream. My favorite comfort food around this time of the month. Something my mother gave me as a remedy for this time.That should take care of this unbearable ache in my body.

Arthur pressed his lips against my forehead before he stood and asked, “Would you like a human before that bowl of chocolate ice cream?”

“That would be nice. But make sure the ice cream is Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie, please.”  I looked up at him, a picture of pure male beauty. After his change he went from scrawny-computer-geek boy to full fledge got-hard-muscles-everywhere-that-want-to-do-you boy. He looked more man than boy though.

“Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie it is. Anything for my Contessa.” He turned and walked out the door.

THE END FOR NOW

You all have a great day while I do some hair loppings.

Happy blogging, reading, and writing!!!

Shelly

P.S. Remember to save a library!

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Saturdays with Sir Poops-A-Lot: Save the Socks and Butt Huffing

Friday morning, yesterday, began on a good note. Mummsy announced that the hair ball and I would be going for a car ride. Oh, the joy. So much glee and happiness. We danced around the kitchen at first. After, we sat by the tuggers she connects to our necklaces and waited for her to come down the stairs.

When she did, she looked like she had on her work apparel. This made me sad because I knew she’d be taking us some where and not with her for the day. Not long after she put us in the car, the hair ball cried, “She’s taking us to the room filled with many prisons and watery torture devices.” He wailed the whole way there, repeating himself over and over. He wouldn’t shut up.

I, on the other hand, opted to think positive about the trip. I watched the trees go by and the cars, too. Delightful, I tell you, delightful. Swarms of birds flew across the blue sky. Different smells had my sniffer going. It was great until mummsy made a certain turn. The hair ball was right.

Our beautiful mummsy left us with these two wicked looking blondes. They did their best to entice us with treats, peanut butter ones, my favorite. But, I refused, turning my nose up at them. My nails clung to the tile but they dragged me to the torture room anyway. “There’s no way I’ll give in. No. Not me. I refuse to cooperate with waterboarding. Refuse, I tell you.”

They ignored me.

Hair ball accepted the treats. He even climbed into one of the blonde’s arms. “Okay,” he said. Little traitor. He’ll do anything for a cookie.

Anyway, when we arrived home, I immediately ran upstairs to No-No’s room. I needed to roll in my sock pile but they were gone. Oh, no! They were no where to be found. The piles of clothing gone. The all-you-can-eat buffet gone. All of it gone.

Daddy-o stood in the hallway with a black garbage bag and announced, “No-No, there’s no reason why you can’t keep your room clean. Don’t know what’s so hard about it. For a twenty-one year old adult, you act like a two year old.”

I walked over to him and stood at his feet. “I’ll take the bag. I’ll keep it clean.”

He ignored me accept to pet my head.

No-No stared at her computer and muttered something under breath. Probably the F-bomb. That’s what mummsy calls them.

It was truly a sad day.  A sad, sad day indeed,which leaves to my next issue. What is work? Mummsy says she goes so we can have food, toys, and keep our house. I don’t understand. Are there mean people out there that want to take these precious things from us? Is work more like fighting with others? That sounds more like war to me. She should consider butt huffing. That might solve her problems. It works for me, distinguishing foe from friend.

Well, for now I need to go. Mummsy will be up soon.

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

P.S. I’m starting a campaign to Save the Socks!!!

P.S.S. I’m also considering opening up a training seminar on the techniques for butt huffing.

 

 

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Awarding the Stylish Blogger Award: Continued

This morning the faucet in my brain is running like it should. No more annoying drips. Words are flowing now. I’m some what rested. Some what. That’s all. But I’m able to think clearer so I can finish handing out the Stylish Blogger Award.

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If you read my post yesterday, I sent out a thank you to: Beth and

Lady Antimony http://thoughtsmusingsandbrokenpromises.blogspot.com 

Beth                http://allkiddingaside-beth.blogspot.com

And of course there are rules to accepting this award. There are always strings attached. The rules are:

1. Link back to the award giver(s).

2. State Seven things about myself.

3. Pass on the award to 15 recently discovered bloggers.

Yesterday, I stated seven things about myself and I passed the award onto ten others. Today, I’ll pass it onto five others. I had a hard time deciding who should get the award because I think everyone should get it. And, too, I’m a Libra. Decisions are hard for me. I loose sleep over stuff like this.

Okay, I award the Stylish Blogger Award to:

Debra Ann http://debragrayelliott.blogspot.com/

Joan           http://www.joanbodyofwork.blogspot.com/

Christine     http://thegreengirl1.blogspot.com/

Sogyel        http://sogyeltobgyel.blogspot.com/

Carla          http://carla-jansen.blogspot.com/

So, I hope you visit these blogs and enjoy.

Once again, thank you Beth and Lady Antimony.

That’s all for now folks.

Have a great day blogging, reading, and writing!!!

Shelly

P.S. Remember to save a library!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Thank You: Stylish Blogger Award

I’ve been dragging my anchor this week. Feeling a bit sluggish no matter what I do lately. Maybe the one hundred forty-four heads of hair I did last week in six days caught up with me. Sleep has not been enough to quench my physical exhaustion so I’ve slacked a little on my blog reading,and my brain’s been making strange noises. Something similar to a faucet drip. Drip. Drip.Drip. Words aren’t coming out easy but today I have off and some catching up to do like thanking Lady Antimony and Beth for the Stylish Blogger Award.

Stylish-Blogger

In order to receive this award there are rules. Ho-hum, there’s always rules aren’t there. Oh, my… Well, they are the following:

1. Link back to the award giver(s).

2. State Seven things about myself.

3. Pass on the award to 15 recently discovered bloggers.

Everyone should check out these two blogger buddies who awarded me this award. I follow them whenever they post.

Lady Antimony @ http://thoughtsmusingsandbrokenpromises.blogspot.com/

Beth @ http://allkiddingaside-beth.blogspot.com/

One day I’ll figure out how to do the pretty link thingy like everyone else in cyber world but until then, well…

Seven Things About Myself in Frags:

1. Married to Sweetman.

2. Hair dresser. Hate where I work. Love my clients.

3. Love dark chocolate. Love de-caf Americanas with cream.

4. Don’t watch much television. Bad for the brain.

5. Got five daughters. Got lots of drama.

6. Write at the kitchen table. Write everyday. Sometimes two hours. Sometimes more.

7. Health nut. Vitamins. Clean food. Workout.

I don’t know if I’m able to pass this onto fifteen new blogs that I’ve recently found but here goes. The Stylish Blogger Award goes to the following:

Tales from the Dark Matter http://chadmawn.blogspot.com/

Raising Marshmallows http://raisingmarshmallows.blogspot.com/

Dafeenah http://dafeenah.blogspot.com/

My First Book  http://sylmion.blogspot.com/

My Life as Jenny! http://mylifeasjenny.blogspot.com/

The Adventures of an Amateur Writer http://christylparks.blogspot.com/

Angie’s Healthy Living Blog http://angieshealthylivingblog.blogspot.com/

Write Brain Mommy http://writebrainmommy.blogspot.com/

Well, I’ve got ten. Needed five more. I’m sure I’ll find new ones I’ll like to read to award this to. I guess this blog is on a to be continued basis. I’m in search of five new blogs. My work never ceases.

And once again, thank you Beth and Lady Antimony for awarding this blog to me. You guys are great and so are your blogs.

To everyone else have a great day!

Happy blogging, writing and reading!

Shelly

P.S. Save a library.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Monkees

Can two, three, and four year old girls fall in love and wish to be married? Why, they most certainly can, because I did. I fell in love with the Monkees. Wanted to marry Davey Jones first, Mike Nesmith second, Mickey Dolenz third, and Peter Tork fourth.

My love affair went back and forth with all four while their show ran. When they were taken off the air, it broke my little heart.

Have great day blogging, reading, and writing while I lop hair today.

Shelly

P.S. Do what you can to save a library today!