Rambly about nothing, really.
I�m sorry, but it just fucking aggravates the shit out of me that my images still aren�t up and I can�t get to my private entries (which I was going to write one today, because Hub�s family is way fucking wacked and I need to go off about them), never mind get to them, I can�t even create one. WTF? And my images? Anything I�ve uploaded since January 17, which was right before the Great Dland Crash of January 2005 (not to be confused with the Great Dland Crash of March 2005), is gone. Some pics that I deleted long ago are there, sitting pretty. And re-upload my images? Haha, that�s funny.
All I know is, I�m getting closer and closer to moving my shit over to Blogger. I have my little �dukkha-tanha DOT blogspot DOT com� space all reserved, just in case. I like dland, don�t get me wrong. I like my people here. I like that I know my way around so well. I like my pretty little layout. Moving there would be a major overhaul on my part, and one I would only make when I get truly frustrated and fed up. I�m getting close.
Eh. Enough about that. I�m not going anywhere just yet. But I want my fucking images and private shit back, please!
Yeah, Hub�s family is fucked up. His sister Tina, the one who he had to drug up last Thursday, needs to have herself a little 28 day vacation on the 4th floor. She�s such a mess, just listening to her talk makes me want to kill myself. Seriously. I truly feel for her, I�m not trying to knock her.
Tina has three kids. The oldest of which is a teenaged girl, soon to be 17. Let�s call her �Samantha�. Samantha is one of those �out of control� kids. Drugs, sex, running away, group homes, trouble with the law, the whole nine. A mini version of her mother as a kid, although I�m thinking Samantha is worse than Tina was. Tina is trying now to control her, but, uh, it�s a little late. She�s gone as far as to get a �CHINS� petition on her, which is �child in need of services�, what they do around here for out of control brats. What that entails, I don�t know. The kid was just in a group home for ungrateful little criminal shits, and they couldn�t control her. She ran away from there, which is why Tina was freaking out for 16 days, because that�s how long Samantha was gone.
They picked her up in Manch-Vegas last Saturday. Tina called last night to say that Samantha ran away again yesterday, right out of the courtroom. Which I have a hard time believing. Sorry for being skeptical about that one. Whatever. I say, if she�s that bad, let her go. See ya, you�re on your own. Does that make me bad? I know, it�s not my kid, and maybe I�d feel different if it were. But, I think the time to control Samantha has long since passed.
I remember when my dad sobered up and decided to control me more. I was 14. That was a tough adjustment for me. For him, too. By the time I was 17, he was pooped. That is why Ned got away with so much. That is why Ned is currently a guest of the state, or should I say a guest of the county, at this fine resort:
Pretty, huh? Doesn�t even look like a jail, does it? I�ve been there, but only to drop off clothes to Ned, when I worked in Manch-Vegas and happened to be there, and once to bail his dumb ass out. (Which was, like, fun. I had to sit in the waiting room with other folks bailing their loser relatives out, we got to swap stories, and then the inmates from work release started pouring in. Inmates are the best, because they are chock full of information. So, they were waiting to get taken out back, with us regular folks. Good times, good times. The best guys were the ones form out of state, who just happened to have the misfortune of getting busted in my state. Not big fans of the NH criminal justice system).
Anyway, that�s where they should plant Samantha. Time to learn the hard way. That�s my take on that. Not that it counts. Tina is just going to keep freaking out until they put her on meds. Which she needs desperately. And meanwhile, her other two kids get ignored.
Again, eh. Then we get a call Sunday night that Hub�s step dad has been rushed to the hospital. And all of a sudden it�s back on the pity pot for Millie. Which is funny, because shouldn�t we put Phil, Hub�s step dad, on the pity pot, seeing as he�s the one in the hospital? I�m just saying.
And whenever this shit happens, Millie starts with �Boo hoo, poor me, nobody comes to see me�. Well, number one, stop your fucking whining. Like you are the only one with fucking problems. Number two, uh, you wanted to move two hours away from everybody else. You wanted to love up there in the mountains. And yet you expect everyone else to drop their lives and come visit you every weekend? I don�t think so. My dad lives closer than her and I don�t go to see him every weekend. And my dad is way more bearable than Millie.
Ugh. And Easter is this weekend. And it�s not Daisy�s weekend. Darn. I don�t get to plunk down cash for her basket too? Golly gee. Now I am going to go bananas on Mickey and Minnie�s. We have no plans except to stay home, which I�d like to do. I�d like to order up a nice H0neybaked H@m and make potatoes and shit and just chill out here. Hub wants to go to his sister Lily�s, but I�d rather not. I�d rather have them come here, but they never go anywhere on holidays.
But, whatever. I�m just rambling now. Easter plans will be determined once Hub gets home this morning.
Which, he hates me, btw. All because of the credit issue. Oh, well! There�s a reason why I could apply for a car loan and get one, and why he�d be looking at one of those �buy here, pay here� places. Why I can get a computer from Dell or Gateway, but he has to go to Rent@Center. Why I don�t have to worry about buying a house for $400,000, because with his credit, we ain�t buying diddly squat.
Again, rambling. And President Bush, WTF? Mind your own fucking business. Congress too. �Emergency legislation�. What the hell is this country coming to? This whole �pro-life� issue is irritating the shit out of me. In direct regard to Bush. President Fucking Hypocrite, as far as I�m concerned. We have to save the fucking embryos and vegetable people, but fuck those people in Iraq! Fuck the soldiers we�ve lost! Fuck those people in Afganistan! They can die, but when it comes to the Christian right, let�s kiss their hypocritical asses.
I am just so thrilled with the direction this country is taking. Fucking ecstatic.
I suppose I�ll go get started on my laundry. Whoopee fucking doo. Maybe I�ll go smoke some of my terrorist grown weed, too.
Ciao!