Random Bumper Stickers

I keep getting e-mail about super fab bumper stickers that HAVE to go on my rocking out 94 Camry. I guess the fact that my car was indeed birthed in 1994 does seem to grant it special bumper sticker wearing privileges, all senior citizens should have stickers riding on their bum announcing to the world their (in this case) political affiliations. Its a privilege that comes with age, get over it and like it. Here we go!

Ok, ok, ok, I get it. I am feeling a bit "Anti" today. Obama fans need not feel bad, I am against EVERYTHING today, and it isn't my fault that someone made such rad bumper stickers and that my mother e-mailed them to me. Or that C and I laughed for-ev-er about them. Get over it.

Additionally, the countdown has begun. Less than 1 week left of Charley loving. Today Tennessee, next week Afghanistan. But the super fantastic fabulous butterfly filled sparkley glitter fun fact is that my Bestie Bekum, Tee, and baby Ty-guy are all coming to visit on Thursday!!! It's important to squeeze this visit in as C has not yet made the acquaintance of Ty-guy.

Until we meet again Webbies!

Might not post so much cause we are gonna spend some "quality" time before C leaves us. I will be back when I can!

As With Most Superhero's

I promised yesterday that I would share a guest post from the TrueFather, aka Captain Normal, aka My Dad, and here it is. I asked him to explain how he became the Superhero known as Captain Normal and this is his candid response. Enjoy the Ride!

The TrueFather

As with most Superhero’s, life altering event(s) occurred which changed my ordinary life of husband, father, and young American laborer to Superhero status.  The events happened so long ago that the formation of rocks has surely occurred in the interim.  It happened somewhere after Gabe the Babe (my older bro) and before B-Dub.  For those needing further reference, we’re talking about that historical time period known as “sometime before 1980”.

The event of the transformation happened, not at once as with the Hulk, but gradually over time.  A forging if you will; the shaping under the hammer of events and tempered by the sands of time.

Driving along a country road in Cooke County, Texas – the sun was but a few hours from making its way into the morning sky.  Time for me at this point held little meaning other than an indicator of where to be and what to do.  My current employment was working second shift at a local factory manufacturing airline seats.  My shift began at 4:30 pm and ran to 12:00 am, with a standard two hours mandatory over-time almost every night.    The job, in and of itself, was not that demanding.  The usual stuff – supervising a production line, dealing with the boss, trying to stay on-top of an ever changing production schedule, and all the while running over school assignments in the back of my mind.

School – who would have thunk – this country boy was actually in college.  Having a wife and two kids it was important for me to load up the schedule and complete my degree program as quickly as possible.  So my first lab or class began each morning at 7:30 am and I went through the day until 3:30.  Afterwards I would then head to the factory for work.  School, work, family, house, church, with an occasional broken down vehicle – days blurred into days, weeks into weeks, semesters into semesters.

The drive home that night was peaceful enough, yet on this winding back country road it was best never to let your mind wander too far from the present.  As I rounded a sharp bend in the road that lead to a steep decent down a small hill and then quickly up the other side to wind further through the Scrub Oak and Walnut of the Texas Cross Timbers region, I noticed a set of eyes in the middle of the road.  I slowed my ’56 Ford pick-up truck should the critter scramble into my path.  At that moment the World seemed to freeze and proceed as a movie in slow motion – one frame at a time.  As I drew near the creature its eyes locked onto mine, attempting to communicate without speech.  Then when passing I experienced the sensation of being ripped out of the moment and thrown back into the present  - pressed down by G-force as my pick-up transitioned from down to up.

My reaction time was hampered and I was unable to stop the truck for several seconds.  By then I had reached the top of the hill.  All was still and no-other cars were in sight.  I turned my truck around and drove back to the spot where I had seen this creature.  Sure enough – there it was in the middle of the road – dead as a hammer.  I did not remember running the thing over, so did not have any feelings of guilt or anxiety along those lines; however, felt saddened by the sight none-the-less.  For some reason I was compelled to get out of my truck and move the poor animal to the side of the road.  My initial thoughts were for future drivers who would be passing this way.  But as I neared the creature – a rather large raccoon – its spirit rose up and began to speak to me.  I was somewhat startled by the event.  I knew that it was the raccoon’s spirit and not the spirit of the dead toad that was nearby.  Any boy who has spent time on the Brazos River can tell the difference between a raccoon and a toad spirit.

The encounter was brief, but the instructions I received were very clear.  I was to carry the broken body of the raccoon to my home and there perform the ceremony which would transform its lifeless body and release its spirit to run among the stars.  The date – October 30, 1979; a coincidence B-Dub - I don’t think so  (note: this date is exactly one year prior to the birth of B-Dub which occurred on October 30, 1980 and as such I can claim no responsibility for his craziness).

Several of my co-workers and I had agreed to come to work in our Halloween costumes.  I’d had to squeeze the creation of this costume into my schedule over the weeks preceding the event.  Fashioning rocket-packs out of large white plastic glue tubes we used at work – complete with air vent tubes and colored lights.  But what really set it apart from the rest was my new ‘coon skin cap.

As I was walking across the factory parking lot one fella yelled out – “hey, you look pretty weird!”  This drew a comment from another – “looks pretty Normal for him.”  And then I caught a question from a third – “What are you; some kind of space Captain?”   The rest is history….

Captain Normal with sidekick Monkey Boy, 2009

Who would have thought that such a seemingly normal day would result in the birth of a Superhero that shaped the very fibers of my existence. Needless to say we (the sibs and I) always had the best Halloween costumes EVER. 

What are your thoughts on Captain Normal? Interested in hearing more? Perhaps we should play a game called "Ask Captain Normal" in which he answers your questions about Life, the Universe, and Everything. I for one would like to know where he stands on the "Knock Knock" versus "Your Momma" joke debate. Or how he feels about the co-ed shower theory as argued by Charley. This is serious business Webbies, serious. Thoughts?

Been there Done that

My In-Laws have been here all week. It's been fantastic! We went and lost ourselves in Nashville, we drove all over The Land Between the Lakes park, and today Mom-in-law and I went to a fabric store. I love having someone here to go exploring with!

It hasn't been all fun and games as we found out yesterday that Charley will be leaving for Afghanistan earlier then expected. We only have about two more weeks together. Ug. But, like I promised earlier, I won't spend all my time complaining about it. Life is what it is, and this isn't our first rodeo, or even our second. This will  be Charley's third deployment. Any who, no complaining. Maybe if I remind myself enough I will actually be able to stick to it.

You guys are in for a treat though. I come from a long line of crazies you see, and the TrueFather-aka Captain Normal- aka my Dad- has agreed to a guest post. I will have it up tomorrow (I hope). So come on back and check him out. Perhaps you will leave thinking I am the normal one in the family, something I have been saying for years but no one believed me! Or perhaps you will think the nut hasn't fallen far from the tree. Either way, it should be a good ride!

Don't Ask; Why Would You Tell?

As I promised yesterday we are going to venture into the land of Don't Ask, Don't Tell: a perspective from two Army Guys. Except that when I tried to get the two Army guys to have a serious discussion they decided it would be more fun to play devils advocate for each other. I'm all "Really Charley? Can't we talk about this for real?" and he was all "But we are, well, mostly."

Some background info on Trist: Born and raised in the Seattle area. Proudly announces that 1/3 of the population there is gay (edited: should read third largest population of gay people in the US of A, sorry Trist!!), and he loves the gays, and the rest of the country needs to pull it's head out of somewhere unpleasant and accept everyone.

Some background info on Charley: Born and raised in Montana. Mostly Conservative, but likes thinking outside the box. No problem with gays, wants me to have a gay bff to go shopping with and tell me how to dress. Can see both sides of almost every argument, likes to take the road less traveled. Likes to come up with ridiculous arguments and logics and then tell everyone else how un-enlightened they are for not seeing things his way, even when he knows he is wrong.

The TRUE issue with gay men in the military as agreed on by both Trist and Charley, well, at least for this discussion: Combat MOS's (mos= type of job or "military occupation specialty") tend to have a higher rate of jerks, bullies, and guys who didn't finish high school. Mostly meat heads who will tear anyone apart for any sign of weakness. Like a rabid dog after a bone. And I have heard stories people, mostly all of them exaggerated, but even the watered down version is scary. Now add in a gay male, even with what-ev protection the government comes up with. What do you get? A guy who is going to be hurting one way or the other. Cause combat guys aren't nice. Ever. Except the ones who are like Charley and Trist.

Serious issue right? Except from here we dissolved into the ridiculous.

See, Trist thinks that gay guys in combat MOS's would be AWESOME. And he wants one of them to fall madly in love with him, not cause he is gay or anything. More because if someone totes luvre him, then that person is the best guy around to be in a gunfight with. Cause that guy will do anything in his power to make sure Trist makes it out alive. Hmmm. Good reason to allow openly gay guys into he military? You tell me.

I interrupted at this point to ask about lesbians. Why were all the scenarios about gay MEN instead of including WOMEN??? The response? "Cause lesbians are cool, no one has a problem with lesbians." Really guys, really? Have you ever watched Work Out on Bravo? Jackie would kick your asses! Twice.

And, by now I should know not to bring females into the discussion, but I opened the can and Charley wasn't going to let me forget about it. His response to Trist's point of view? Thats why they don't allow women into combat mos. With all the love going on no one would think straight. And its not safe for the ladies, not cause they can't fight just like we do but cause they would have to spend a lot of their time fending off the advances of the guys in the unit.

He continues: And if we are going to let gay men flaunt about openly then everything needs to be co-ed. Co-ed MOS's, co-ed units (which there already are, just not combat ones), co-ed showers.

Halt. Excuse me? Co-ed showers? Where the heck did that come from? He says co-ed showers are the same thing as having gay males in the shower. I object. It is not at all the same. There will be no co-edness in the shower happening while I'm around.

Charley spend the rest of the evening trying to convince me of this co-ed shower thing. I maintain that it is not at all the same, and if the military really tried to make things co-ed they would step into the realm of womens right, sexual harassment, and any number of badness acts. There is a reason that females are not allowed in combat mos's. And those reasons don't disappear because someone comes out of the closet. But he says I'm biased.

Yeah, see what I mean about the whole "descending into chaos" that happens every time I try to have an intellectual discussion? Ridiculous. So I am calling on you Internet. Help me come up with arguments against Charley's co-ed shower theory. Because he thinks I am biased, and maybe I am a little, but it feels like wrongness. Badness. Worrisome.

And he is talking me in circles again and I can't keep my arguments straight when he does that. Give me fuel for my fire. Help me talk some sense into this man.

The State of My Union

Yeah, I watched the State of the Union speech last night. I have mixed reactions to some of the things Obama said but that is neither here nor there. What IS here is some of the things Charley busted out with while watching, he kills me Webby Friends, kills me! For example:

Me: Um, what exactly is Joe Biden laughing at?

Charley: Who knows? He is the George Bush of the Democratic party.

Me: Oh, makes sense. Everybody needs one.

Or how about this one:

Me: Can you tell the senate is divided? Look at how all the Dems are going to town with the standing ovation while all the Repubs are firmly seated and most aren't even clapping!

Charley: It's prolly cause Obama keeps scowling at them.

Me: Either that or its cause Skelator, I mean Pelosi, keeps looking at them with her laser x-ray vision and they are too afraid to move.

Charley: Yeah, she scares the poop out of me. If looks could kill, she would be the absolute supreme slayer of the senate.

And on a more serious note, I feel the need to share some knowledge with you. Obama stated last night that he was going to have all "combat" troops out of Iraq by August. The Dems were out of their seats once again, pan over to the Military Guys who sat stone faced through the entire affair. No reaction. And here is why:

Even once we pull out our "combat" troops we will still have around 60,000 US troops who will STAY in Iraq. There is no "Pulling everyone out" that some have thought will happen. And Obama brushed by this by saying we will continue to support the Iraq government.

For a great analogy take a look at Germany. It has been how many years since we HAD to be there. The Nazi's were defeated before I was born and yet we have multiple military bases still operating there today. We started off by staying to "support the new government" and eventually Germany turned into a great overseas base of operations.

I predict that Iraq will be the next Germany, although without the whole "Now its a great place to be stationed" part. Who would willingly live in the desert? Not I. But I would give Germany a whirl. In fact, it is one of our goals to be stationed there before we (and by "we" I mean "he") retires.

Enough of the heavy. Tomorrow's topic? Don't ask, Don't tell: A perspective from two Army soldiers (Charley and his battle buddy Tristan). And they are water and oil people, or perhaps vinegar and oil is more descriptive. Unless they both decide that I can't publish their views. And then I will list them and anonymous. Or just not write it cause I want to keep the state of MY union with my hubby happy and peaceful. We shall see.

Cousin It. For Real

Ever wonder what happened to Cousin It from the Adams Family? Wonder what happened when he hooked it up with the red headed chick? Didn't they procreate? The answer is yes, oh yes indeed. And I have proof.

Because I am somewhat convinced that I could be Cousin It's long lost spawn. Just look at the resemblence. Sure I keep my do somewhat shorter these days but thats just because I hated having to move my hair to the side if I wanted to sit down. Nothing worse than sitting on your own hair. Trust B-Dub.

And yes, I am also very aware of the fact that I need to get hair did again. Just look at those ends. Ouch. But strangely- or not so strangely, I am not in the mood to deal with it.

Speaking of strange did you watch GMA this morning? Normal Weight Obesity? Really?!?!?!?!?!?! So now being skinny is not enough? You want me to be fit too? Aarrgg. I am doomed to die all skinny and yet still obese. Big ol jerks. Thanks for ruining my day!

Whats that? I just have to worry about belly fat and not the booty fat? Well alrighty then! I am all over that, as I have the small waist and super J-Lo style booty. What, Robin Roberts? Booty fat is good for you? I am officially the healthiest person around. Pear shapes apparently rock. But if I'm keeping it real I would admit that I would rather have MODG's bottom half. Good thing for my self esteem I'm not in a keeping it real kind of mood today. Tee Hee.

Excitement is in the Air

I've got a feeling that tonights gonna be a good night
Yeah, tonights gonna be a good, good night!

My older bro returned from a vacation deployment yesterday. And if you didn't know, Chair Force, I mean Air Force deployments are really short in comparison to Army ones. His was about 4 months long. Army = 12 plus months. Totally different. He went to Qatar. And sat around, and took some online classes in his spare time. No knocking down doors, no getting shot at, no IED's. Lucky!

Anywho, the point is that I'm happy he is home. Even if it was an extended vacation. And I find myself struggling to not tease him. So instead I will change the subject!

My older bro, whom we shall call Coolio, is all bff with my hubby. They can talk for hours and hours and hours. Buncha GIRLS! In fact, I sometimes think that Coolio likes Charley more than me. And that Charley might in fact like Coolio more than me. It's a tough spot to be in. And ya know what they say: If you can't beat em, join em. So thats what I do. I join in the "My gun is cooler than your gun" conversations. I join in the hunting parties. I am the sticky smelly stuff that holds this pack together. Wait, that's Sid the Sloth from Ice Age. Great, now I'm a sloth...

PETA TURN YOUR HEAD

Coolio turns to Charley for hunting advice, because lets face it- if Coolio ever actually shot an animal he would prolly hide his head in a bush and cry. Cause he is a lover not a killa. I, on the other hand, am a somewhat experienced hunter. And by somewhat experienced I mean I am a grouse slaughtering machine- but the deer are safe. But only because I never can find them. They are better at hide and seek. Lamer.

I would like to point out for all you hunter haters that we eat what we shoot. And we don't shoot unless we are going to eat whatever it is we are shooting at. Except coyotes. They are Charley's arch nemesis, and the terror of small children. So here it is: 1 deer will feed my family for MONTHS. And the grouse are like chickens. In fact, the word grouse means chicken in German. And it tastes really good wrapped in bacon, or fried. But what doesn't, I ask you?

Coolio flew out to Montana to join us in a hunting expedition last year. It was super fun! Gma Jo kept the punks so it was just Coolio, Charley, and myself. Unfortunately the deer played a rousing game of hide and never be found, unless you count the does and fauns. And we couldn't shoot those. But all was not lost! We did come across the worlds largest rabbit. And that rabbit make a super yummy stew.

Coolio and his Rabbit, that Charley shot

for him so he wouldn't have to cry.

And if you are lucky, I will share some pics of the deer that Charley brought home later in the season. My in-laws are  awesome and came to visit to learn me all about butchering. Because everyone who is anyone who happens to have married a Montana Boy needs to know how to butcher a deer. That would be me. And I am feeling like today is a lucky day, so here we go: DISCLAIMER, do not scroll down unless you want to.

See, thats not so bad. You mostly can't see anything at all. Now SHUT UP PETA/ANTI-HUNTING EQUIVALENTS, I was feeding my family. And it sure was good eats!

Welcome home Coolio, glad your back, and Charley wants to know if you are available for a hog hunt before he deploys? Also, he says he misses you and wants to know if he can call you, and if you will wear the best friends forever bracelet that he made you. Lame-o's.