Yeah, I stomp on heads 'cause of my back problems, too.

I know I'm a few days behind on the head-stomping of Lauren Valle. But I still have to comment on it. I'm pretty sure that most of the people in the Tea Party aren't nut-bags. I'm pretty sure they're not all violent and  I know that not everyone who is a member of the Tea Party is batshit crazy. They don't all think Obama is a Muslim or that his Hawaiian birth certificate is fake. They're not all trying to force their conservative social family values down my throat. But it is so easy to forget this when idiotic assholes like Tom Profitt knock women to the ground and stomp on their heads because they have back problems, and then demand that the victim apologize.

Geez.

That's not the kinda Christian I was raised to be.

Once upon a time, I was Catholic.

I was taken to church on Sundays, I went to Sunday school sporadically, and though never confirmed I did marry Ex in a Catholic church.

I was, once upon a time, a devout but imperfect Christian. Growing up, I questioned the tenets of my faith, the "facts" of the Bible. A lot of things didn't add up for me. But ultimately, it was the hypocrisy and intolerance of so-called Christians like Clint McCance that drove me away from established Christianity and towards a path of worship of my own choosing (neo-paganism is my flavor now).

A school board member, Mr McCance stated on his Facebook page that as far as he was concerned in regards to the recent Spirit Day, he'd wear purple when all the gays had killed themselves. Good for you, asshole.

As a Christian, I was taught that God loved all creation, sin or no sin. I read in the Bible about Jesus telling his followers to love not only their neighbors, but their enemies as well. Mr McCance, you are no Christian. Neither is anyone who hates or expresses intolerance for anyone who is different or follows a different set of rules.

Public Service Announcement: Votiiiiing.

I wasn't going to vote in the midterm elections...but I've changed my mind. I really only care about the elections for US Senate and US Representative. I won't say which is which until after, but for one seat I'm voting Republican (take THAT, Fiance), and for the other seat I'm voting Democrat (hides under desk). I am not voting along party lines, as you can see, but on the issues. I suggest you do the same; vote for the person, not the party.

And to the person I parked next to this morning with the big "Where's the Birth Certificate?" sticker on the back of their car...REALLY???? Stop it. Thx. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to run for president without adequate proof of natural citizenship.

Oh, for the love of - -

What follows is an electronic conversation between myself and the Redhead.

Me: meant to send the following to Canuck: "I wish I could have recorded the last 30 seconds between myself and Macgyver. Srsly, the things he says!!!!"
guess who i sent it to instead????
GUESS

Redhead: MACGYVER??

Me: hahahahahaha
yeah
goddamnit
he laughed
but goddamnit

Redhead: wow....your smart...
hahaha

Me: I KNOW
wtf
why are you still there?!?!

Redhead: working hun
told ya..i work long hours here

Me: geeeez
but whyyyy

Redhead: i just told them [them being her team] about your little mishap...we all laughed..
[...]
good thing macgyver likes you

Me: goddamn you to the fiery bowels of hell, you redheaded wench of the apocalypse

Redhead: you know you love me..

Me: that's debatable atm

Redhead: whatevs...
gave me something to tell that was funny...

Me: ah, i see in my misfortune i have finally come through for you
ARE YOU HAPPY

Redhead: yes...yes i am...
=D

Happy goddamn Tuesday.

Aaaand that's my good deed for the quarter.

Today I saved a turtle as it slowly but surely made it's way across the road. I hated the thought of him/her getting halfway across only to get SMASHED by a careless driver. So I stopped, picked him/her up, and helped him/her to the other side. Hopefully it was the side he/she was headed to.

Dread Pirate Davi: Champion of Turtles everywhere. Okay, not so much, but I do feel pretty good about it. Hopefully the Goddess approves.

If only others could be as easily saved. Hang in there, Laggin. <3

I ain't no money bags, but that'll do.

Was informed today of a raise that is punishment for a job well done. O woe is me!

Happy friggin' Monday!!

Written with a keyboard, sealed with electronic encryption.

Dear Terin,

Months have passed since you were last seen in the Blogosphere. This makes me a sad panda. Every time one of my favorite bloggers goes off the radar for an extended period of time, it always seems to be because of real life turmoil. I sincerely hope that this is not the case with you. I hope everything is going well in your new endeavors, and that soon you will return to update us on all the wonderful happenings.

Deviously,
The Dread Pirate Davi

Title change.

Don't know why I didn't do it sooner.

Halloween riddle answers.

1. A casket.
2. A man with high blood pressure.
3. A pumpkin patch.
4. He had no body to go with.

Have a great weekend.

Inability to live without brothers is up for debate.

Brother: what second part did you omit? that looks correct to me.

Me: Brothers; can't live with them...

Brother: oh. as in "can't beat them over the head with an indonesian fighting spoon.

Me: Can't live with them; can't live without them. Only this morning, the second part didn't seem to apply. I don't own an Indonesian anything. I wouldn't hesitate to wollop [sp] you over the head, though.

Brother: but you can't live without me. even if i'm just lurking in the background.

Me: On this fine Friday morning, sir, one might say that is debatable. Go back to couch.

I am a vessel for hatred.

Sounds like the opening for a fantasy novel. Ooooh, story idea!! Because that's exactly what I need, another unfinished book...

Anywho. I pose a question to you, my eternally limited audience. When dry humping occurs in a swimming pool, is it still called dry humping?

Also, two pieces of advice. Never fuck with a redhead. That's one. Two, never fuck with a Scorpio. And if you happen to be acquainted with a redheaded Scorpio, walk softly and don't even bother carrying a stick, 'cause the bitch carries an aluminum bat and will not hesitate to beat the shit out of you.

This post is lovingly dedicated to my psycho Redhead.

Sympathy and empathy are not the same.

An interesting article that P. John shared on Facebook. This part struck a chord:

‎It's even becoming more difficult for soldier and civilian to converse. Army Capt. Stefan Hutnik, a company commander in Afghanistan, recalls being home from a combat tour and being told by his wife, as they were headed out to a family dinner, please don't talk about the Army or the war. "But,'' he said sadly, "I don't have anything else to talk about.''

I think I walk that ever-widening gap. My heart bleeds for the families that have been torn apart by this war, whether by death or divorce due to the long separations or other issues. But at the same time, I'd rather talk about other things. Normal, cheerier, day-to-day topics. As a military member, I sympathize. But as someone who sits behind a desk, who's never deployed, I cannot empathize.

For the record: While I did go TDY (temporary duty) to Doha, Qatar, I do not count this as a deployment. No one does.

Unusually quiet on the gaming front.

I stand in the bedroom getting dressed, and realize it is unusually quiet on the other side of the house. To my knowledge, Fiance hasn't gone to bed yet. I am debating whether or not to be concerned. Ultimately, I am not. Concern is for the rest of the day; I like to start my days with a healthy does of apathy.

I am dressed, ready to go. I walk over to the game room. He's been gaming the whole time! And nary a peep from the fellow! I express my surprise. He just looks at me. I explain that I haven't heard any yelling or cursing. He just looks at me some more. Then says, "You're a dork."

Brothers; you can't live with them.

Omission of the second part is deliberate.

Brother: why the hell do you like the yankees so much.

Me: It's in my blood. Why do you care?

Brother: adam and i were talking about the yanks last night over beer and pizza

Me: What the hell do you know about baseball?

Brother: i know it's like golf, but with running. i also know that steinbrenner likes to pad the yanks with players that cost way too much.

Me: Steinbrenner is dead.

Brother: *liked

Me: Are you in today?

Brother: nope. may be in later, depending on my desire to shower and leave the house, though.

Me: Anyways, I repeat the question, wth do you know about baseball??

Brother: golf with running. also, that i have no interest in it other than to push your buttons.

Me: Not golf with running. Go back to bed.

Brother: /ahem...couch. i'm going back to couch.

Me: JUST DO IT.

Happy Friday.

Public Service Announcement: Phishing Attacks.

Is your friend posting suspicious things on Facebook out of the blue? Or sending you odd e-mails with gibberish or suspicious links?? Your friend has been phished. Their password has been hijacked, and they need to change it ASAP, before the hijacker becomes malicious. Tell your friend to change the affected passwords, strengthen them, vary them between different accounts, and to run a virus/adware/spamware scan on their machine (I highly recommend Norton 360, it's what I use). And warn them to be cautious in the future when clicking on ads or unknown links.

This public service announcement is brought to you by The Dread Pirate Davi.

Halloween riddles and jokes.

1. The maker does not want it. The buyer does not use it. The user does not see it.
2. What is a vampire's favorite food?
3. How does a pumpkin quit smoking?
4. Why didn't the skeleton go to the dance?

Answers to be provided at a later time. (Don't give it away, Canuck!!)

Something that occurred to me yesterday.

You know, there's something about that Liam Neeson. An aura, and indefinable quality that leaves you with a feeling of comfort and safety in a his presence. Something that make you think to yourself, "As long as Liam is around, everything is gonna be alright." You don't know how, you just know. When immoral Albanians kidnap you and sell you and your virginity to a fat Middle Eastern sheikh, don't worry about it; they'll all be dead sometime within the next two hours. When an abnormally pale witch tries to hex you and your siblings, it's all good; he was gonna gobble her up anyhow. And if he's making a mint of your blood, sweat, and tears, you know it's only to keep you from being stripped, shaved, and gassed. What I'm trying to say is, we all could use a little Liam in our lives. Amirite??

House-hunting.

That's what we're doing. Kinda sick of paying rent out the ass for a shitty modular home that's falling apart.

I am a previous homeowner, but with the market being what it is, any advice would be appreciated.

That's what Leach said.

Henceforth, in conversations where the phrase, "That's what she said," would be deemed an appropriate (or inappropriate, depending on how you look at it) response to a statement or question, I, the Dread Pirate Davi, will instead respond with, "That's how I met your mom."

I, the Dread Pirate Davi, highly encourage you, my incredibly small audience, to adopt the same practice in your daily routine. Because every time you do, a fairy gets its wings. Or...no, wait...an alligator. An alligator learns to smile. Um. Listen, just do it, okay? Thanks.

The 'Rents, Days Two and Three.

Sunday: We arose from our slumber to plunder pancakes and such at the nearest Denny's. From there, Fiance jumped ship and we piled into the Redhead's fancy new SUV to set a course for the River Road and Pere Marquette. We took in the lovely weather and scenery before heading back to my house for an estrogen-filled Party Lite/Lia Sophia party. I spent too much money, Mom spent too much money, Redhead spent too much money, and I got some free stuff out of it. Dad sat in the kitchen eating the food I had set out and blissfully ignored us.

Monday: The day started with a lovely family breakfast that involved everyone eating scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits as their faces were glued to their respective laptops:

I took the day off from work to take the 'Rents to Cahokia Mounds (which Dad kept mispronouncing as "Cahokey Mountains"), and then we went over to the Landing for lunch and sight-seeing...and did we see some sights:

Squirrel Rape.

At first glance, I was certain that one boy squirrel was raping another boy squirrel. But after watching the video, I've come to the conclusion that these two were in fact a gay couple that had not yet agreed upon who would be the "girl" in this relationship.

The end.

Last night's dinner.

Made on a whim, but turned out GREAT: Shrimp fried rice, quick and easy.

A bag of microwaveable steamed rice.
A bag of microwaveable steamed broccoli.
Frozen de-veined, tailless shrimp.
Freshly-pressed garlic.
Freshly-ground black pepper.
Soy sauce.
One egg. (Or two, if you like.)

Microwave the bags, rice first. While waiting, heat up the butter in a skillet over medium heat, and toss in the garlic to taste (I like a lot; you might not). Toss in the thawed shrimp. Toss in the rice when it's ready, and pour in soy sauce to taste. Make sure you're stirring as you cook. (If the rice isn't FULLY cooked when it comes out of the bag, don't worry about it; once all the ingredients are in, put a lid on the skillet and whatever moisture is trapped in there will finish it off.) Throw in the broccoli when it's ready, and then add your egg(s). Keep stirring so spread the egg around as it cooks. Add black pepper to taste.

And for my next trick...flan! Stay tuned...

A quick getaway, Dread Pirate style.

"He's pretty pissed, Davi. He doesn't appreciate his authority being usurped by some crazy Puerto Rican with a penchant for shanking co-workers she doesn't like. No ma'am, there will be hell to pay."

I was driving and talking on my cell phone, which is illegal in the state of Illinois...but I had left Illinois hours ago. And I wasn't stopping to ask about local driving laws. I had somewhere to be.

"Well, Fabio*, I don't know what to tell you. I tried to keep things light when I accounced the results in the hopes that Tassel* would be less inclined towards vindictiveness. But, of course, I underestimated his love for barbecue, and must now pay the price for allowing a fair vote on Big Mama's Barbecue versus Buffalo Wild Wings." I pulled over real quick, put Fabio on speaker phone, and grabbed a box from the glove compartment. "Hey, do me a favor," I said, as I reached into the backseat to grab my shotgun off the floor, "just to be on the safe side, delete my address from the recall roster." I loaded a couple of rounds in the gun.

"Ha, right," he laughed, as if I'd cracked a joke. "That'll keep him away."

"Doesn't matter," I said, checking to make sure the knife I'd slid in my boot before fleeing was still there, "he'll find that I've already burnt the place to the ground. They'll find bodies matching mine and Fiance's dental records." I kept him on the speaker phone, placed the shotgun back on the floor in the backseat, and threw a blanket over it. "If you need me for anything, go to the Hagia Sophia in Turkey. Ask for Leroy McRory. Give him a slip of paper with the following numbers on it: 5-7-89-52-6. You wait four hours, and walk over to the crypt. I'll be waiting there." I threw the car into drive and pulled back onto Interstate 95 heading north.

"Oh. Gotcha." He sounded surprised. "So, you called in The Eraser? Damn, that Arnold is fast."

"What?" I asked, distracted. "Oh, no, no. Arnold is in retirement now. But he offers an exclusive top secret educational seminar in Napa Valley every Tuesday for anyone looking to drop off the radar...permanently. You should look into it."

"Is it pricey?"

I swerved to avoid a possum. What the fuck is a possum doing on the interstate? "Meh, kinda, but mention my name, you'll get a referral discount. Listen, gotta run." I hung up without waiting for a response, and tossed the phone out the window. My scalp was itchy; stupid wig. You shell out $2000 for a decent wig, and it's still itchy as fuck.

I went through my mental checklist again. Fiance and I had parted ways; he was on his way to the Caymans with a hefty settlement, ready to start a new life without me. He got SoCo, I kept Simi. He wasn't happy about that, but I'll be damned if I ever hit the road without that stupid cat to act as lookout during a heist. Fiance was gonna be just fine, and I've got my favorite Stuffed Rabbit in my rucksack.**

As for me, I was heading to the UK. I was thinking early retirement; wouldn't be my first one, probably wouldn't be my last. But what can I say? I piss off the wrong people pretty easily, and I'm not about to change who I am. So here I am, at the top of Ben Nevis in spring, watching the sun set. It's drizzling a little, but I'm okay with that. Simi and the Stuffed Rabbit are waiting for me back at the bed-and-breakfast. Don't bother trying to find the Dread Pirate Davi...she'll find you, when the time is right. And you better have some goddamn rum or hard cider for her.

*Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
**A story for another time.

The ‘Rents, Day One.

We had an early start to our day, but our morning was lazily spent sipping coffee, eating breakfast sandwiches, watching Netflix. Fiance went to nap, and we headed out to a winery fifteen minutes away to enjoy the sunny but chilly weather, take pictures of the lovely scenery, and enjoy some lunch (which we had to wait on for a hour, pbut what are you gonna do).

They bought me Windows 7 as a belated birthday present, and Dad successfully resuscitated my long-comatose HP laptop, yay!! Fiance awoke from his slumber, and we went to a fancy-schmancy steak house for…well, steak, DUH.

And now we’re sitting around watching Mission: Impossible III. A pleasant day, all around.