Happy New Year!

My head is absolutely swimming. I have so much to tell you guys and have no idea where to begin. I have a mega post left over from my Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza, which I'll add to the bottom of Monday's post. Thanks for all of the e-mail and comments and concern. Sorry to worry anyone. I'm A-okay and never did get the whining man germs my old man was pouting about last week.

I was without internet for days again because Comcast sucks big hairy donkey balls.

Christmas was insane like everything else in my life. Thankfully, we all know who our babies' daddies is so we didn't have a very Maury Christmas. But I think it's fair to say we had a Jerry Springerish one all around.

My sister Mary is going in for a surgery consult Wednesday. The doctor said without surgery she could lose both of her legs. She has 95% blockage.

My 51-year-old neighbor, who was an overall healthy person, dropped dead a few days ago. Being out in the middle of nowhere, with a bunch of brainless fucks, even our local coroner couldn't determine her cause of death. Now we wait for Springfield to send in its report. I feel bad for her daughters and her grandchildren, and of course her boyfriend. He came by our house again tonight, just to get out of their house. Wish there were more we could do for him.

My friend from Memphis moved to my hood a few days ago. She's great. I'll post about her another time.

I applied for a job I want less than the one I was offered a few weeks ago. Although it will provide lots of fodder for my story telling side, it really isn't what I want to do. Short of relocating, getting regular writing jobs in my neck of the woods just isn't happening enough to break even, which is one of the many reasons I am out there pounding the pavement.

I just found out this spring some of my stories will be published where I sent them months ago. Waiting has sucked and waiting some more, sucks even more. I promise to be happy when I get paid. Pinky swear even.

Barbara nominated me for a Bob award in the overall good blog category. Thank you, that was very sweet. While checking out the site, I noticed lots of my blog buddies also were nominated in many of the categories too. Good luck to all of you.

Mr. Lane is home every couple of days now, which is nice. Just having him here to drink coffee with makes my day a million times better. Remind me to tell you about my Christmas gift from him. Holy shit it's a funny story! And even though he can be a total whine ass baby when sick, he makes me laugh 'til my guts hurt. It's nice having him back home.

The kids also have been home and will be until the 4th of January. Santa was very good to them.

That's about all I got off of the top of my brain. I have some freelance things to work on before Comcast decides to fuck me over again. Please send good vibes for Mary.

Happy New Year!

A Little Naughty A Little Nice

I finally finished my Christmas shopping yesterday. Mr. Lane was supposed to take care of the last minute things but he was too busy being a fucking baby sick. He was laying on the couch most of the day saying, "Oh Mama, I'm coming Mama." He claimed to be talking to his mother in heaven.

He later sang, "This is the end of the world as I know it. But Lo feels fine." He ended his rendition looking at me with a frowny face and crinkled eyebrows. He claimed the kids and I gave him the germs. Meanwhile, none of us are sick, which I made mention of. To which he rebutted by saying we are carriers or I poisoned his coffee.

This morning while writing a news story for the local paper, I was thinking aloud and said, "Crap. I can't think of the word. What do you call that?"

He looked at me, very seriously and said, "Dead Man Walking."

"How 'bout Dumb Man Whining?"

That shut him up long enough for me to finish work and today's post. Needless to say he screwed up my entire day yesterday and is trying like hell to distract me right now. I'll have to give virtual Christmas presents in double time.

In speedy quick fashion, typos and all, here are more presents for my friends here in Blogland. If you haven't been given a virtual gift, it's Mr. Lane's fault. Leave a comment and your Christmas wish will magically be granted.

Beginning with my newest group of buddies who I don't "know" well enough to find the perfect gift, I give them whatever one thing they want most. That includes all of you hidden in the shadows too. You're in good company with Jay, Susie, Miss Pickle, Michele In Michigan, Spring, Justine, Mike Ashley, Jamie Dawn, Taza, Morgan, Longiron, Peter, Lucy, Chris, Gina, Melzie, Don Swift, PBS, FTS, His Phoenix, Kero, Moo Alex, Carie, Ivy, Jules, Mona, Jude, Jay Are and Jona. (Why Blogger isn't letting me putting all of those links together, I do not know but it sure is annoying as all hell.)

For my buddy Bill I give a gig over at Hot Rod Magazine. Of course he gets his pick of cool cars to drive. Maybe a new one every day? I'd also like to give his mom the best of health. And because my pal blogs in code a lot, I'd like to give myself a decoder ring. You know like the ones that used to come in cereal boxes when you were a kid? That would be cool. I'd also like to provide the time he needs to work on his many hobbies. With that he must also have all of the tools to fit in his extended workshop.

More than anything material, I'd like Celti to have a close relationship with her sister. Besides that, I'd like to give her a real live vacation every year, about the time Iowa is ass-deep in snow preferably.

For Green-Eyed Lady, I'd like to give a book deal for a series of coffee table books where she can combine her beautiful paintings and poetry. I would also like to give her an acceptance of the past and a very bright future.

I want mi hermana, Veronica well. That's it. Just a cure.

I give my buddy Cindy perfect health and no more pain. I'd like to give her enough money in her wallet. I could wish her wealth beyond the world, but I know she would be happy with enough. For her son Anthony, I give faith in himself because he really is a wonderful young man.

My friend Lightfeather has been through hell this year. I want so much for her. Since she is a former Illinoisan, I would like to give her a couple of trips back home so she can coffee clutch with me and visit Brookfield Zoo (which by the way isn't much different than visiting the Lane Estate). I wish her peace of mind, understanding, returned love and compassion from everyone in her life. And of course good health all around.

Seems there are a few former Illinoisans floating through cyberspace. Lucy, whom I've recently "met" and Mike.



For Mike I give the above boat with a tour guide to all of the best islands.

Another smart one to leave the freezing cold of Illinois, is my shutterbug pal Victoria Winters. I would like to give her free trips back home whenever she wishes. I would like to give her a job doing what she loves, a gig as photographer.

Freezing her ass off right along side of me still in Illinois, is my friend Tammy. For her I give the house of her dreams, equipped with a housekeeper. I give her mother understanding and compassion and I give her and her family a Disney cruise to start the new year.

Although not in Illinois, my buddy Cathy is freezing off her ever lovin' so for her I offer a nice warm place to retreat to during the winter months. I also want to give her the relationship she has always wanted with her mom. Understanding on both sides and the past left in the past.



All it's missing is Steelcowboy and Cheri sitting on the seat. This 2006 XL 1200C Sportster is what I want to give my Harley loving pal. With it, of course comes a lifetime supply of fuel and lots of free time to rack up the miles.

Woody and Robin (and Michelle and Dave but they already got stuff) are some of the best little shutter bugs around. I would like to give both an opportunity to share their gift in travel books while making heaps of money.

For Kerri, a woman who loves kids like crazy, I'd like to give a lead teaching job. I would like her to make more than enough money so Michael doesn't have to be gone on business nearly as long. I would also like to give them an annual honeymoon to some place warm. Living in Alaska, any place would probably be a little warmer.

My naughty list got mixed up with my nice list. I have a big handful of other favorite friends to give to. I hope to find enough time tomorrow to give them their gifts.

Merry Christmas to all of y'all!

Nice Wouldn't Mean Anything Without Naughty

Wow! After looking over my notes, I've realized the naughty list is way longer than the nice list.

If you are just tuning in, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. There are a few days left before Christmas so feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.



Pirates rarely find themselves on any nice list. They have a reputation to uphold. Therefore, I offer the above to my buddy Pirate. May he and his family travel the world and of course locate some buried treasure.

Magz is one of my first bloggin' buddies. I've been hanging around her virtual farm for about a year. She is one of very few people who really feel at home where she is. For her I give enough feed and seed to get all of her critters through year after year. I give her a laptop that she never has to share. I give her an additional 20 acres that even the local government can't touch. With all of that, she is certainly going to need a beefy beau hunk to help around the farm.

Bookfraud knows he's been naughty. He recently agreed to graciously accept a lump of coal. Too bad pal. Lois Claus doesn't give coal away all willy nilly. You instead shall have a bonfire party with all of those rejection letters. Of course your new agent, friends, family and fans will all be there for the book signing part of the shindig too.

Sloth is getting a high-dollar career. She is too smart for this job but our fashion world is depending on her. This Christmas, I give her a gig as the shoe police. Anyone caught wearing hideous shoes will get whacked into line and given an hour-long lecture and then a shopping trip to learn the art of the shoe. I also wish for my friend to never encounter any funky feet along the way.

Eric, for prosperity sake is getting his very own Real Doll. I also give to him an enema-free doggy lifetime to his beloved pooches. I give him a gig as an ad designer so corporations like Burger King won't come up with things like Coq Roq unless they intend to rename their onion rings Coq Rings as suggested by Eric. Not even Lois Claus can give him more romance in his life with his beautiful bride Kelli than they already share. So for them as a couple, I give continual faith, love and support. Oh heck and maybe a second honeymoon too.

When a guy goes around calling himself Bad Patty, there is just no way he could escape the naughty list. But this naughty one has a soft side. For him I give a sprawling ranch for all of his beloved creatures. I'm also tossing in a couple of the creatures from my backyard. What? Selfish gifts are okay. Right?

Holy bad boys and girls! There are so many more wonderful folks on this laundry list of mine. I just don't know how Santa does it all in one day. Many more Christmas wishes coming soon to a blog near you!

...Naughty List Continued

I got a thing for the naughty ones. They keep things interesting around these parts. It seems a good portion of my naughtiest friends have a lot in common. Today's tribute is to them, sex, love and compassion. Who could ask for anything more?

For Boo I give Him. But this isn't the Him she is used to. This is the new and improved Him. He's a companion and friend who understands, who makes her laugh, who is there for her every beck and call. He's also ready to back the fuck off when she wants Him too. No one likes clingy. I also give her peace of mind so she isn't always waiting for the other shoe to fall.

Mona Buonanotte isn't a teacher in her real life, but in Blogland, she sure is. For her I am getting a how-to book deal. This is the kind of lady who throws it all out on the line. She is the first to tell a guy how to shareo El Joy De Orgasmo with the senoritas. And that right there is something to be shared. I'd also like to send her and Sergei on a world tour so they can get it on globally.

K, another sex kitten in the Land of Blog deserves multiple gifts. For her I give someone who can keep up. Someone who is ready for whatever adventure her mind conjures up. I offer her sex on the beach on every coastline as often as she wishes, and a longing to build up anticipation that only last as long as she wants it to.

What can you offer a guy who has openly admitted a blog crush upon one Lois Lane? That was just too cute. For Drafter I give peace and unconditional love in his relationship. There's no more wondering what her mind is thinking because you my friend are also getting a crystal ball. Every time you open your mouth from here on out, the right words will flow. She won't be able to resist your charm.

Where there's Drafter, there is Mercy Jones. I "met" one through the other. I don't remember who came first. (Drafter has a crush on both of us.) For this little vixen I offer peace of mind to keep her from being a worry wart. I give her someone who can handle all of her love and give it in return. I offer her a car and a house that are always in perfect condition and don't need payment. I give PP the ability to be her best under any and all conditions, just like her mommy.

The naughty list is longer than both of my arms folks. I think I'll pick up here tomorrow. Merry Christmas!

Gonna Find Out Who's Naughty...

What has become of Lois Lane blogging on the weekend? Well, don't get used to it folks. Saturday was a special Christmas tribute. Today I want to honor some of my naughtiest, most favorite blogger friends.

My Katey, at the top of the naughty list, I bet she saw that coming. She gets a boy toy right off the bat. I am giving her one who isn't just fun to look at. This guy is going to be smart but not nerdy, wealthy but not snobby, sensitive but not a mama's boy and funny enough to detect sarcasm. This hunk o' meat doesn't come with the baggage of psychotic ex-girlfriends or any little ankle biters and he doesn't live in his parent's basement. Oh, and would you look at that? He has a nipple ring. How cute! (Are those mistletoe boxers he's wearing?)



Bad boy with a heart of gold, sounds like an oxymoron to me, but Seven is just that. For his Christmas gift, I give the car above and a multimillion dollar web design business and enough hot little worker bees to take care of things so he can work on rebuilding his family and friends homes in New Orleans. My next gift is that he never be concerned about how his new liver is doing. Consider it stamped Grade A.

Jade, see she is one of those sweet faced, kind-hearted women who given the chance could be all sorts of naughty. For her internal naughtiness, I offer Bionic Woman parts. Not those parts you sick freak. Jade has been in lots of pain over the last year that I've "known" her. So I want to give her the gift of pain free bionic appendages.

He isn't around often but that doesn't mean he is forgotten. Trashman is the pimp of the net. Since he already has a beautiful lady at home, I can't offer up an entourage of bitches and hos for him. Instead for him and his best buddy Jack, I offer a talk show. It's like The View if it were run by two outlaws. Of course there wouldn't be any annoying broads yappin' a mile a minute either.

Where there is Trashman, there is always Jeanette close behind. Even though she is a very happily married woman, she remains Trashman's stalker. For Jeanette I give independent wealth. Sure that may seem like a copout but this way, she won't have to worry about getting a new job. She won't have to worry about what type of destruction the cats are putting her new home through while she is away. She will be able to blog her day away. For her husband, I give a gasmask. He knows why.

El Sid, missing in action for far too long. I wish her oodles of quizzes to toss out at will. I give her a computer that never ever goes down. I offer her a fancy, maintenance-free building to live in and with a handyman at her beck and call. I also give her a little play time with Johnny Depp.

I really want Jesse to have properly working anal glands because if Julie blogs about that expressing thing again, I'm going to barf. So that is my first Christmas wish for my little Irish princess. Breathe a sigh of relief because I could have included a picture. Next I offer up a gig as the lead reporter for Rolling Stone Magazine. She will be subjected to all of the free rock concerts her heart can stand, starting with Queen and Def Leppard.

I'm pretty sure my buddy Dante has a little naughty streak in him as well. This Christmas I give him a sexy vixen to bring out his wild side. She won't be so over the top that he couldn't take her to meet the family of course. Did I mention this vixen owns a music store?

Many more made the naughty list and they'll be coming soon to a blog near you.

---

For all of you bah-hum-buggers out there whose fancy wasn't tickled by the spirit of giving, go take the ridiculous quiz I made up for my buddy Ivy. She wanted to know if there was a way to calculate her value in cigarettes if she were in prison. She only scored 20, which means she needs to be on her best behavior.

Here's the scoring key:
80 to 100 you're worth 10 cartons
50 to 70 you're worth 4 cartons
30 to 40 you're worth 1 carton
0 to 20 Bend over, this won't hurt a bit

Checkin' It Twice...

Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza Continues! If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.




David isn't one of those bloggers who let's his readers know his deepest desires. Shopping for him wasn't too tough, however. His first gift is for one of his hobbies. With this mega zoom lens, he can take pictures of the nose hair of the guy down the block. Why he would want to is irrelevant.

His second gift is a gift to many. My Christmas wish for David, who in his real life is a lab rat, is that he finds a cure for cancer. Of course with that comes riches beyond his wildest dreams. And the popularity to that of sliced bread.

Brighton has her world on a string and I don't mean a g-string either. She has a great family, great kids and a great house. The only thing she is lacking is an endless supply of money, which is my first gift to her. Again, I say Jewish schmewish. Armed with tons of money, this kind-hearted woman no doubt would share her riches with those less fortunate.

My second, third and fourth gifts to her are peace of mind, an enlightenment for her dad and a couple of pink slips for a couple of fuck ups who don't deserve their jobs.

Jan and Annie are getting a joint gift. They are, after all, married and completely in love. It's not their fault our society is a little behind in its way of thinking. For them I offer no more weird looks, no more seeking acceptance, no more gay bashing, no more naysayers, no more religious zealots tossing out what they believe the Lord intended. I guess I offer them peace. Ha, now I sound like a beauty pageant contender.

Phil is one of those guys who you see in the office, and you just know he is a real party animal. He keeps himself grounded while his mind just goes off in a million directions. He has all of the makings of a great comedy TV writer. For Phil I give a writing job at SNL so he can let his freak flag fly proudly all of the time.

Phil isn't the only funny guy wandering around cyber space. Charlie is another one who deserves to use his amazing gift of humor for profit. I'd like to give Charlie a blowup sheep just for shits and giggles. Gag gifts are good. For his second gift I would like to offer up the late night slot that will be vacant after Conan takes over for Leno.

With a name like Cooter, it's gotta be good. CooterAng already got herself a house recently, but she forgot to include someone to walk Gus on those cold wintry mornings. She has no one with opposable thumbs to make her coffee. In my opinion this is a travesty. For Ang I give a humble servant who looks good enough to eat. (I searched the net for hot guys. Safe search was off. Yeah, don't do that unless you want to see naked naughty bits. YIKES!) Anyhoo, this hottie will do what he is told. Might need a spanking from time to time, but I have no doubt she can keep him in line.

Michelle is another one of those who give my the longtime buddy feeling. For her I give a big comfy couch. Mostly I want her to have that because I tell her all of the time I am coming to live with her and I certainly need a comfy place to sleep when I get there. Since that gift was a lot more for me than it was for her, I also would like to give her a book deal. Have you ever seen her photos? Postcard perfect, so for her third gift, I offer her own postcard line.



Marybeth is geographically challenged. Her brand new grandbaby lives much too far away. Since she has been a good girl all year long, I offer up the two things she asked for. John Travolta and her own private jet. This way she can get John to fly her over for a visit whenever she wants.

Sissy in Memphis is not a blogger but a reader. One of these days she is going to get a whole post to herself. Anyhow, we "met" through my work website. She is moving to Illinois soon. For her I offer up a Chippendale team of professional movers and a brand new house in that subdivision. You know that subdivision that's only a couple miles away from the Lane Estate? Yeah, that one. I also would like to give each of her family members an easy transition.

Rachael, I looked all over the net to find cat scabs... you have to read her to understand that one... okay, really what I want most of all for this lady is confidence in her writing skills. She is funny, crazy and has come from a past that has only made her stronger as an adult.

I also would like to give her a magic wand to finish all of those home improvements she takes on by herself, like her basement project.

Dianna and Sarah, although not a couple, they have one thing in common, anxiety. For them I offer a calm feeling no matter the situation. I wish their fears away and their confidence to take them where they want to be in life.

Also, as wished for Jan and Annie, I wish the same relationship respect for Sarah and Jenn, as well as for Biscuit and her Boo.

Something else I want to give to Biscuit is an absurd amount of holiday decorations that come with no cost to run. Every holiday I want her rooftop to signal airplanes with her festive cheer.

I offer a full inbox of high-dollar freelance work orders for my friend Stationery Queen. This is a woman who not only loves to write but is fabulous at story telling no matter the subject. I also want to give her a T3BO voodoo doll so she is able to smack some sense into her sister in-law, or at least poke her with a pin when she does something stupid.

Three pages in and there are so many other virtual gifts floating through my noggin'. But the family awaits. Today we begin our Christmas shopping. Hahaha begin.

Hello. Is It Me You're Looking For?

Yesterday's post was a copout. I know. My mom called to tell me so. Hoss even called that one. Mom blows me shit every time I toss out a short post. It's just that my morning didn't start out very well, as you can tell in that post below. Plus, Thursdays are very quiet in Blogland. That is unless you are part of the Half Naked Thursday group. Since I don't post random nude body parts, my site counter rests on the day others are going crazy.

My buddy Ivy wrote about me today. If you need additional dorkiness that popped out of my mind, go visit her and read all about it. Make sure you take the quiz I made up.

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The coming of age is in full force here at the Lane Estate. My kids are acting much too much like teenagers and I am regressing. Our phone rings nonstop. Normally I am the one who answers. Lately, however, it's never for me.

I find myself yelling, "1, 2, 3, not it!"

Lane 2 loves to answer the phone. Even when it isn't for her she still carries on a conversation with whoever is on the line. That is unless it's Valerie.

I know I am going to sound like I live in the stone age when I say we don't have caller ID, but it's just one of those things I really never wanted. There's something to be said about the mystery of who is on the line that makes answering the telephone fun.

Whoever is on the other end gets to hear the genuine surprise in our voices when we recognize their voice. Of course the surprise isn't always a good one, but that is a good opportunity to brush up on our acting skills. I think it builds great character.

As the phone rang Lane 1 handed it to me and said "I'm not here."

Second ring, "Yes you are, and I am not lying for you."

"Dude ma," third ring, "please!"

Lane 2 spoke up, "I'll get it but this is going to cost you."

Lane 1 nodded in agreement and handed the phone over as ring four was underway.

"Hello? Yes. What are you doing? You have to be doing something. I need to finish my homework quick so I can help Mom with dinner. Yeah. Okay, hold on."

She handed me the phone. Lane 1 let out a sigh. Lane 2 asked if he was hiding from Valerie again. As I tried to dodge my neighbor's request for me to go fetch her kids from their school after I'd already fought the non-plowed snowy roads to fetch my own, I listened to their conversation.

"Dude man. Valerie is like a stalker. I know she is going to call today. I want you to just tell her I'm not here."

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll give you a quarter every time you lie for me. Deal?"

"No way! At least a buck and then you got a deal."

"I'm not giving you a whole dollar for every call. She calls all the time!"

Trying to hold back an evil grin, Lane 2 said, "Yeah, I know."

Valerie, as expected, called soon after. Lane 2 smiled, opened her hand pointed it toward her brother. He placed a dollar onto her palm. "Um... nope. I think he is outside. Bye."

Later, while Lane 2 was in the shower, Lane 1 said, "You know that little brat is going to be rich when she is older."

"If this Valerie thing keeps up, she won't have to wait until she is older."

He shook his head as if to say, "I can't believe my baby sister is the master of manipulation and I am dumb enough to fall for it."

---

I know I don't normally blog on the weekend, but this time is different. Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you. Stop by this weekend and see if you were on Lois Lane's nice list. Have a great weekend everyone!

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

At 5 a.m. I found my cat Chip running around in circles on the kitchen table. He appeared to be chasing his tail.

"Down Chip!"

He didn't listen. He has the worst manners on earth.

"Down!"

He continued running in circles as if I never entered the room. I picked him up and said, "No! Bad kitty!" He looked between his legs instead of at me like he normally does. I looked too.

Dangling from his butt was a dingleberry wrapped in tinsel. I threw up.

The end.

Hell Is For...

...Kitty. It's true. If there is a hell for animals, my cat Chip is going there. At first he was just acting like a brat. He was getting into all of the Christmas boxes, taking things out and running playfully with them clenched in his teeth like a dog.

He took ornaments with bells, tinsel, beaded garland and a string of lights into the kitchen and hid under the table.

"No Chip! Stop Chip! Damn it cat!"

I thought I heard the little fucker laugh as I chased him around trying to collect the stolen goods. He hid his face up the angel's skirt as if that made him invisible. I took the angel away, "Bad Chip!"

The kids thought Chip's approach to Christmas was too funny. The more he got into trouble, the more they giggled. Often times they provide dialog for what Chip would say if he could speak. The cat's rotten behavior provided the kids with plenty of material.

"How you doin'? What you got up that dress angel?" Lane 1 said in his best Chip voice.

As Chip tried to ingest a piece of tinsel, Lane 2 said, "This is just what I need to make my poop shimmer and it's tasty too."

I wanted to leave the decorations out and within his reach for at least a day before setting anything up just as a way to familiarize him with all this new stuff. I finally armed myself with a spray bottle filled with water to keep him from running off with anymore decorations. Although it helps, it is not 100% effective. He is relentless.

When we brought the tree home, he got that twinkle in his eyes again. I pointed to the tree, and said, "No Chip." He looked at me, then the tree, then at me again. Approaching with caution, he crouched his body like a low rider inching his way for a sniff. "No!" I said again.

Mr. Lane adjusted the tree and put water in its stand. Before Mr. Lane walked out of the room, Chip had dipped one of his paws into the water and shook it off frantically onto the carpet. He decided sugar water wasn't so bad after all and began drinking from the tree stand. I sprayed him again. He didn't mind and went in for another dip. "No Chip!"

The kids giggled as Chip hiked his ass up the tree to get away from the spray bottle. "No Chip!"

Since he drank most of the water from the stand, I shook the shit out of the tree to get him down. He took off like a bat out of hell heading toward the bathroom. He has a favorite place to lay in there by the heat vent. I took that opportunity to shut the door with him on the inside.

He let out a pathetic "meow" and poked his paws under the door.

As soon as someone opened the door to use the bathroom, he made a break for it. He sat on the coffee table checking things out from a safe distance. Lane 2 set up the claymation Santa Claus is Comin' to Town figurines and the nativity scene.

We took a dinner break. That is until we heard the sound of things falling. Chip was no longer on the coffee table. The four of us ran to see what kind of mayhem the little shit was causing. We caught him just in time as his tail whacked Miss Jessica off of her feet. He already had knocked down all of the others in the small village.

We picked up all of the figurines and headed back into the kitchen to finish dinner. With our butts barely in our chairs, we heard another clunk. This time it was the sound of glass.

"Kitty Kong strikes again."

That was the point where he had crossed the line. We witnessed him batting baby Jesus out of the manger and onto the floor. He treated him like a hockey puck made of catnip. There was no stopping him. He had hay stuck to his fur from laying on top of the manger and was frantically bashing baby Jesus about. He gave the ceramic figurine one good swat before being captured and sent back to the bathroom. Unfortunately, none of us saw where exactly baby Jesus went with that fateful blow.

I closed the bathroom door. "Bad Chip!"

Lane 1 cried out in his Chip voice, "It's 'cuz I'm black right? Don't be hatin'."

After a good laugh, we finished our cold dinner. Later that night we went on a hunt for baby Jesus to no avail. It wasn't until two days later that we found our savior underneath the chair in the living room that he could sleep in heavenly peace. That is until Kitty Kong strikes again. Do they made hand baskets for kitties?

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Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza Continues!

If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.




For my friend Poopie I have three Christmas gifts. May Poopie's Palace always have this peaceful easy feeling. (photo by Poopie)



May she be loaded up with all of the proper tools for her many renovation projects.



May this fine hunk of manliness be available to fill all roles Poopie sees fit. I was going to get her a run-of-the-mill cabana boy but when I spotted this fella, I had no doubt he could be her handyman, farmhand, cabana boy and anything else her pretty little head could dream up.

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

She's Making A List

There isn't much time for writing today so I offer up some more of the Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza.

If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit. By now, I realize some of you realize this is a copy and paste paragraph. Call me lazy but it's working for me so I am going to continue using it until all of the virtual presents have been delivered.

It seems my friend Michael in California is not in the Christmas spirit. Some of you may be thinking, "Well, Lo, he is Jewish."

To that I say, "Jewish Schmewish! If I wanna get him a Christmas present I can."



So for Michael I give you lifelong movie and TV contracts with all the best selling scripts a great actor could ever want. (Toss in a couple of partial nude scenes to please the masses.) Happy Hanukkah buddy!

William seems to me like an extended brother. Our families are both huge and many of his coming of age stories are similar to my own. He's like the baby Mom threw out with the bath water. (What does that expression mean anyhow?)

My initial thoughts had something to do with giving his wife Lauren, a lifetime supply of comebacks, to always keep Bill on his toes. The problem with that gift is, Lauren already has that naturally. And trust me when I say, she is good! So, for Lauren I offer a kiss, which I think we all know, begins at Kay's. Whatever her heart desires within that jewelry store is for her. Personally, I would pick a beautiful Mommy necklace since she is such a great one.



For Bill I have two gifts. This is a tree house art studio for his back yard.



It also doubles as his Marvel office where he can work on Adventures of Turtle and the Hair.

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

Walkin' In A Winter Wonderland

The Lanes are beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. Yes, I am aware of the date. It took a while to jump start things but this weekend sort of shoved us in the Christmas direction. Mr. Lane returned from his trip to California. We planned to get our Christmas tree Saturday. The kids' Christmas pageant was Sunday. Those two things in one weekend certainly could drum up our spirit.



The wind stung our cheeks, the mounds of snow froze our toes. We hiked for a mile and a half to find the perfect tree. Here's Mr. Lane and the kids. It was difficult to get them to smile. When I threatened to moon them, this was the result. I love that my naked ass scares my children.




The kids thought they were too old and too cool to sit on Santa's lap. Mr. Lane and I pulled rank and said there will be no Christmas presents if they didn't comply. They hate us.

The rest of the photos, from the weekend were taken with my other camera. Once they are developed, I'll post a few. Like Kitty Kong for instance. Chip, you know, the miracle cat, well, it seems he has a thing for destroying small villages. Not even Baby Jesus can escape his wrath.

In other weekend news, Auntie Shorty is back in the hospital. She had to receive platelets again. If you don't donate blood or platelets, do it. It is the best way to help cancer patients, without costing you a dime. If you do donate, thank you.

She reads this blog and has been grateful for all of the well wishes in the past. She asked that I ask you guys "to do some voodoo or something to make this crap go away." You know what to do. If you pray, do voodoo, witchcraft, hovercraft, whatever, do it for Auntie Shorty.

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Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza Continues!

If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.



Deni, AKA Last Girl on Earth has performed with REM, Sarah McLachlan, Cyndi Lauper, Gravity Kills, Chris Whitley, Daniel Lanois and Robyn Hitchcock. This Christmas, I wish her gold albums. She has worked her ass off for many years helping others achieve their goals. I say this is Deni's year. Go visit her site, buy her album and listen to one of my favorite songs of hers, Fuck It.

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

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Susie is also in the Christmas spirit. She has invited everyone to her blog for a Blog Cookie Exchange of sorts. Go visit her and share in the fun.

Good Morning Beautiful

Stirring in bed, blanket wrapped tightly around me like a burrito, face smashed deeply into my pillows to keep out the morning light.

"Good morning beautiful Mommy!"

What a sound to wake up to. I turned my head and saw my daughter holding a cup of coffee. She was smiling. She was already dressed. How did I sleep through that and holy crap, what time is it?

I jumped up to a seated position. I smiled back, wished her a good morning, thanked her for the coffee and ask how long she had been awake. My blurry eyes saw the clock. It read 12:00 in all of its flashiness.

"I don't know. All of the good clocks are flashing. I guess the power went out."

"Is your brother awake?"

"No. I tried waking him but he said it's a snow day. Is it Mom?"

Yesterday the snow came down relentlessly. It took me an hour to get to the kids' school and back. I saw two cars spun off into a ditch on my way there. By the time we were coming back, there were eight.

The 13-year-old know-it-all riding shotgun informed me I was driving too slowly. I told him to zip it. He insisted front wheel drive cars can take the treacherous roads. I pointed out a couple in a nearby ditch that couldn't. He told me what he would do if he were driving. I reminded him he wasn't. He began to speak again. I added, "You won't be driving. Ever. If you don't zip it."

Those are the times I think about animals eating their young. I like animals and I was feeling quite hungry. I calmly told the boy I was getting pissed. He finally shut up.

Somewhere along the journey home, I said, "If this doesn't let up, school might be closed tomorrow."

Biggest. Mistake. Ever.

Lane 2 stood there smiling at me. "Is it Mom? Is it a snow day?"

I finally dragged my weary bones out of bed, blanket wrapped around me like a cape and went to find a normal clock. It was 6:45 a.m. I pushed back the blinds only to be blinded by the reflection of light bouncing off of the snow, which was covering everything.

"Is it Mom?"

Her little face smiled so hopeful.

"I don't know. The snow finally stopped falling. The roads might be clear by now."

She put on the TV and the radio. She was going to find out. I woke Lane 1. He whined and told me to find out if school is in session before "bugging" him. I dragged my son out of his bed by his ankles. He flopped to the floor like a fish out of water, begging for me to give him five more minutes.

"Now son!"

With a heavy sigh, he headed toward the shower.

"I'm not getting any information here!" Lane 2 said disgusted. "How about calling the school?"

"There isn't anyone there yet sweetheart. We'll have to wait until 8 to call."

"I cannot believe there isn't a better system to pass along information. What is wrong with this picture?"

She was indignant as all hell. Cracked me up.

"Mommy? Can you just make the decision? We are your children. Certainly you wouldn't want us endangered. Besides, it is your prerogative to allow us to stay home."

Coffee splashed out of my nostrils. I suddenly realized why my daughter was being so adorable. She was trying to win me over so I would declare it a snow day. What a sneaky little shit!

I sent her outside to clean the snow off of the car, "just in case."

It's sad to admit this but I actually felt guilty and almost peer pressured into letting them stay home. I thought about it over coffee. My mind flashed with piles of homework Monday afternoon would offer. I saw snow on the floor, kids coming in and out freezing me to death, while invading my alone time. My future wasn't looking very bright. It was decided, as long as the school is open, they are going. All I had left to do was break the news to them.

In my mind I heard, "Good morning beautiful Mommy!"

Out of my mouth I heard myself say, "Hurry up guys! We're going to be late!"

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Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza Continues!

If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.




For Inanna I offer a home that needs no payments or repairs. Inside, there is a den with a writing desk and a special bead room for two of her favorite pastimes. The entryway has a trap door so she can, with the push of a button, get rid of certain someones who try to darken her doorway. Her home comes complete with staff. A cook, maid, gardener, all of whom are hot strappy men, I might add.




For her son Nate, I offer a clue for everyone who comes in contact with him. So he never feels less than wonderful, smart and brave. So no one ever can make him think he is less than the amazing little man that he is.

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

Come Together

Yesterday I was so rushed writing my post, I left out a couple of parts of to the story. If you read the post below, you know my 11-year-old daughter, Lane 2 recently made her first dinner. What I forgot to say is, it was really good.

Even Lane 1 said, after Lane 2 was out of earshot, "She really didn't do a terrible job." That's one of those left-handed compliments. Since the boy is a lefty too, I let it slide.

The casserole is a form of Shepherd's Pie. It was an accidentally created concoction I made in my late teens. I thought it was a good and easy thing for the girl to learn how to make. It's just browned drained ground beef, mixed with tomato soup and green beans, topped with mashed potatoes, shredded cheddar and Durkee Onions. It only takes a half hour to bake.

Since I called it a casserole and not poop in a pot, and the kids haven't had it for at least a year, they were fooled into thinking this was some new fangled casserole. Lane 2 liked it so much, she had seconds. This is the same child who used to gag just looking at the casserole when I made it many moons ago. It certainly isn't a pretty dish once it is served but it is good and has all the crap you need in a good dinner.

Clean up was a piece of cake because I have the world's best daughter! This child, without being told, thankfully has been paying attention while watching me cook over the years. I am a clean-as-I-go cook. Guess what? She is too! That was very exciting to me.

After dinner was done and the kitchen clean, the three of us had a date to settle in and watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special. On the first commercial break, Lane 1 went into the kitchen. As he has been growing like a weed, he has been eating like a cow. Everything affects him like Chinese food these days. Fifteen minutes after he eats anything, he is ready to eat again.

He came back with three wine glasses filled with eggnog, topped with whipped cream and nutmeg. The poor kid forgot I am allergic to eggs and his sister hates that stuff. Lane 2 tried to drink it but her face showed the truth. In the end the boy was happy to drink all three glasses. Why that child doesn't weight 300 pounds is beyond me.

To answer some more questions posed in the comments of yesterday's post, Bush Master AKA, Mr. Lane, is probably the only one in our house who needs more chores. For Vince, and the record, without too much detail, he does in fact trim and tidy all of the bushes around these parts. (ifyaknowwhatI'msayin')

Back to this chore thing. I also forgot to mention that after I do laundry, the kids each take their clothes, hang their shirts and put away the rest in their dressers. Some times they offer to put mine or their father's clothes away. It is, however, an ongoing saga here. It is rare when I don't have to remind my children of their duties.

Some times it is just easier to do things myself than it is to tell one of the kids... repeat, mix with frustration, add a pinch of grounded for life if you don't do what you're told, and a dash of crinkled angry eyebrows glaring at each other.

Mr. Lane believes it is time for them to essentially take over the majority of household chores so I can work more on my writing, while concurring the 9 to 5, which I am starting after Christmas. Not thrilled, more on that later. We don't disagree when it comes to stuff about the kids, most of the time. This time is different. I think everyone needs to pull their weight. From where I am sitting, the kids and I do much more than the old man. Meaning, he is odd man out.

Sure, when he is in town, I pawn off almost all of my chores on him. When he considers complaining about something like taking the kids to school, I simply say in a very condescending way, "That's okay honey, I'll take them... like I do all of the time you're away." It works every time. It used to be said in anger. Now it has become an ongoing joke. One he still falls for, which pleases me greatly. Any chance I have to avoid the president of the PTA, I'm 100% in favor of.

In Mr. Lane's defense, when he is home, he does all of the car and truck maintenance. He is the one who keeps the garage from looking like the shit hole. Speaking of shit holes, he also cleans the bathroom when he is home.

Anyhow, this weekend we are going to be discussing this subject at greater length. I hope we can all agree on a fair solution.

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Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza Continues!

If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my way to give my friends who live in my computer presents for Christmas. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving spirit.



For one of the only two bloggers I've met in person, who I love like my dead pet hamster Stinky, Aimee. I offer her walls upon walls of the finest yarns for her millions of knitting projects. I'll never forget the first time I met Aimee, she was knitting in front of the fireplace. That is until she started dancing naked with Katey.



This next gift is as much for me as it is for Aimee. Technically it is for Aimee's daughter Emily. (pardon my lack of Photoshop skills on that sweet baby girl's face) This helmet cam will catch the expressions and contagious laughter on her Mommy's face when Em blurts out one of her fine gems like, "Mommy, what does Fucking Fuckit-ass mean?" or “But I'm not fond of spaghetti today, ok? I was bad. Bad, Mommy. I was very bad.” or this one, "I try and try to make my attitude go away, but it just won't!"

And my all time, two favorite, wish I coulda seen Aimee's face, Emilyisms, "Mommy, last night you were a piece of shit girl, but tonight you're NOT!" and "Mom, you're giving me bad love."

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

Work It Girl

Mr. Lane and I have been having serious talks lately about adding more chores to our kids' lists. I feel they do enough, Mr. Lane disagrees. We are trying to reach a compromise. While the old man is out of town, I've been talking to the kids about the possibility once their dad comes back.

The boy, less than thrilled rattled off all he already does. The girl said she likes chores and doesn't mind getting more. They are like night and day.

Yard work is something the three of us do. We take turns on the lawn tractor, we have three rakes, the girl and I keep the garden, both kids and one crazy neighbor take care of snow removal. (That guy is going to get his own post one of these days.) Mr. Lane is the bush master. (insert perversion here) He keeps all of the landscape bushes neat and tidy and prepares them for winter. Lane 1 also takes care of the mowing and snow removal at our recently widowed neighbor's house.

Inside, both kids keep their rooms somewhat clean. Okay, they "clear a path" everyday. On weekends they actually clean them. Lane 2 clears the table and sets it for dinner. She also takes care of the birds. Lane 1 is the garbage man and the one who removes snow off of the car in the morning. On the weekend they do a few more odds and ends. During the week, they always have homework so I try not to load them up with additional chores.

Last night my daughter was begging me to give her a "fun new chore" like making dinner. By the time I was her age, I was cooking, so what harm could it cause? I told her as soon as her homework was finished to get started on dinner. She was so excited.

With very little help from me, she made her first casserole. The boy curled his nose up at it and was getting ready to say something mean. I stopped him. She looked so proud of herself, I couldn't let him ruin it for her.

When her back was turned, I whispered to him, "You better not hurt her feelings. I don't care if it tastes like mud pies, you are going to eat it and you are going to tell her what a good job she did."

He rolled his eyes at me.

She had the table set extra nice with a candle, perfectly folded napkins and drinks for all three of us.

"It smells wonderful!" I said while kicking my son under the table.

"Yeah. Smells pretty good," he said.

She couldn't contain her smile.

Then she said, "Lane, would you please say Grace?"

"What? Oh, come on dude! You are taking this way too far!"

I kicked him again.

He folded his hands and quickly said, "Good bread. Good meat. Good gosh, let's eat. Amen."

The kids didn't know that the casserole sitting before them was the very same casserole I used to make all of the time. The one they both hated. In fact, they hated it so much, they called it ugly poop in a pot. Lane 1 was taking tiny bites, being a typical cynic brother, teaser extraordinaire. Until I kicked him again.

Did you ever see the movie, What About Bob? My son turned into the character. His mouth full, he kept repeating, "Yum, er... good... this is sooo, mmm, mmm, mmm," I kicked him again.

This one new chore turned out to be a big boost of self esteem for the girl and a big bruise for the boy.

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By the way, thanks for thinking I am a mere puppet on a string. Geppetto, as Bill so affectionately named him, was sent back home with Brittany. Cute or not, I am not having any more cats in this house, thankyouverymuch.

I know it's not Christmas yet but I have a lot of people here that I want to "give" gifts to. If you are new to Home Fires and wondering what this is all about, this is my Non-Meme Christmas Gift Giving Bonanza. You can read more about it here. Feel free to join in the gift giving.




I want to start with my longtime buddy Vince. For him I offer up, time in a bottle. This will give him the time he desires to work on his music without compromising his family time.




Secondly, I offer a cure for autism for his son.

Many more Christmas gifts are coming soon to a blog near you!

Master Of Puppets

At the age of 11, there is no doubt in my mind that my daughter knows who the tooth fairy is. She also is smart enough not to outright let on to her knowledge.

When it comes to everything in life, I've always told my kids, "If you don't believe, you don't receive."

Instead of a tooth, here is what I found stuffed under her pillow last night.

Dear Tooth Fairy, My molar is on the coffee table in the living room. Can you please leave it there? I don't want him to be lonely. He wants to wait for Mrs. Canine and Mr. Premolar to come out of my gums before he goes to live with you. They are wiggly and almost ready to go.

I promise to take care of Fred (my tooth on the coffee table) until the others are ready to go. You don't have to leave any money behind this time. Just please let him stay. He really loves Mrs. Canine and Mr. Premolar and they love him. It would be a travisty (travesty) if they were parted. So pretty, pretty, pretty please don't take Fred.

Sincerely, Your Loyal Customer, Lane 2

A kid who oozes cute is dangerous. I fear what's to come as we get closer to the teen years. I think in a way she believes giving up all three teeth at once is like money in the bank. I'd guess she wants a wad of cash under her pillow rather than a couple of bucks at a time.

This morning while she was eating a bagel she said, "Oh man! Now I have another loose tooth. I knew I was jinxing myself by asking the tooth fairy to wait for the other two teeth. When another one comes out, I'm leaving her another letter about the latest oral development."

A few days ago, my little Master of Puppets brought home her Thanksgiving report. This year her teacher told her to give thanks for things she normally wouldn't. This is part of what was written on a drawing of a pilgrim lady's dress.

Thank you God for the people who stole our cat because they gave him a home until we found him and stole him back.

Thank you God for dogs, because they eat nasty fish and other gross things your mom tries to make you eat.

Thank you God for chores, because they take time away from doing homework.

Thank you God for school, because without it, I would be stuck with my brother all day long.

Yesterday, after Lane 2 finished her homework and chores she asked if a friend could come over to play. As soon as I said yes, she got on the phone. She ran into her bedroom, shut the door. A few minutes later she came out smiling. She thanked me and said Brittany was on her way over. Brittany lives half of a block away. Lane 2 stood at the front door ready to let her in. I walked away. I heard her come in, she yelled hi to me and the two of them went into Lane 2's room.

When they came out for a snack I noticed Brittany still had her coat on but didn't think much of it. That is until I saw this in my laundry room.








Brittany smuggled a kitten out of her house and into our house by stuffing it into her coat. Thankfully our cat Chip didn't eat the little thing alive. Lane 2 told her friend I said she could have one of the kitties from her cat's litter. Over the phone she finally confessed to her friend that she never actually asked me for permission, which is why she snuck it in. Lane 2 was so sure after I saw the little one there was no way on earth I could tell her no.

That is when I cut my little puppet strings and became a real live boy girl.

Wish You Were Here

Over the next couple of weeks as all of us who celebrate commercialized Christmases go shopping, I want to play a game. Brighton gave me the idea. I bet she doesn't even know it yet. In one of her posts, she said, while she was Christmas shopping she saw items that immediately made her think of some of her blog friends.

Here is what I want you to do, while you are shopping, you are no doubt going to find stuff that will remind you of the friends you have living inside of your computers. You know how shopping is, you see stuff all of the time that makes you think, "If I had enough money, I would get one of those for so and so."

Our imaginary community is so tight that we know each other better than some of our real live fleshy friends know us or we them.

This is no meme crap either so don't give me any lip about playing! Here is what I want you to do. When you see an item that makes you think of a fellow blogger make a mental note. When you get home, type about the person and the gift and why you would get that for them. Money is no object and it's the thought that counts, so "shop" 'til ya drop.

Since the weeks before Christmas are so crazy and hectic, and many of us won't have time to blog, this will be a quick fix. You'll have the notes on your computer. Now all you have to do is do an image search of the gifts and post them all.

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Today is Birthdays-R-Us. I have two nieces and a cousin celebrating. A birthday trifecta, if you will. The only pictures I have of my cousin Annette are really dorky ones, so I'll spare her the embarrassment because she really grew into a knockout. Today, I think she turns 37.



Here is Dee with her brother Darktails and my dad. Today she is 10. This picture was taken a few years ago when my parents went to Hawaii to visit my brother Mark and his family. Lucky dog was stationed there for a few years.



Here's Lane 1 with the other birthday girl, Nancy on his shoulders. The kids were playing chicken in the pool. She is 11 today. This photo was taken the day her brother Dino-Mike, AKA E.T. Pooped in the jacuzzi. Good times!

Happy birthday ladies! I love you bunches!

Happy Birthday To Home Fires!

Oh my gosh! It is so great to see you! Come on in. Can I get you something to drink? Oh, you shouldn't have. Really. This party is just for fun, gifts aren't necessary. Oh, you brought two gifts? How sweet! Let me take your coat. Have you met everyone already?

Here you go. Nice hot cup of coffee, spiked of course.

What would a one year birthday be without cake? Have a slice. No, really, it's okay. This is carb free and fat free. I swear. Yeah, and there's no sugar or bad stuff like calories, but it has an amazing taste.

What's that? You want to know how Home Fires made it a whole year in the dog-eat-dog world of blog? Why, I thought you'd never ask. See, when a Mommy Blog loves a Daddy Blog very much... Sorry, that's the wrong story.

How and why Home Fires is still around after a year is largely due to you guys. The rest remains a mystery. Thanks for hanging around and reading. You guys are the best!

Now I, like the rest of you, would love nothing more than to continue this party, but I have a shocking story to share. Some of you may cry, others will be appalled. I am still in shock and this is going to be very difficult for me to share. So please, bare with me.

Yesterday I thanked you, The Titkateers for being like a good support bra. I intended to post a photo of a bra to go along with the post. Not wanting to take a photo of my own bra, I turned to my friend the internet. I searched for breast coverings of all varieties.

When I came upon one in particular, I was so beside myself that I forgot why I initially was looking at breasts on the internet.

It has been one month since I heard from the Crazy Opossum Lady. For those of you who are new here, she is a woman who is an animal rescue specialist. When my children found a dead opossum mother in the road in front of our house, they noticed six little pink babies squirming about. I brought the babies into our home and took care of them until I found someone who knew what they were doing.

Enter the Opossum Lady. I didn't know she was crazy until she stuffed the babies into her bra. She claimed that was the safest and warmest place for their fragile bodies.

My good buddy Vince composed music for the song I wrote for her. You can listen to him singing the song here.





This tiny little guy and his siblings were counting on me to find them a safe haven. I thought I did the right thing by handing them over to a professional. When I spoke to her last, they were "growing quickly" and were "going to soon be headed to a petting zoo" a couple of counties south of here.


I'm going to put some extra space below in the event you are too upset to see this for yourself. I am heartbroken over this tragedy. It pains me to put this here, but it's time we all knew the truth.


















It seems that the Crazy Oposum Lady is nothing more than a Cruella Devil of sorts. She is selling Opossum Nipple Warmers on eBay. (not safe for work)

WHAT HAVE I DONE?!

(The above was simply a joke. The babies I once cared for really are already happily living at a zoo. Happy weekend!)

Sis Boom Bah!

Thanks for all of the words of encouragement yesterday. You guys are too sweet. Yeah, I'm a persistent bitch, so chances of me ever giving up for good are pretty slim. But, I do have to make money. Freelance work is slim pickin' right now. All of the places who pay for shit are hiring left and right. All of the big money deals are falling through my fingertips faster than my boobs are sagging.

I have a couple bites on steady 9 to 5 jobs. I love Hoss to pieces but I can't take him up on his offer to sponsor my postage costs by me adding Pay Pal to this ol' blog. You guys offer me a ton in support, which I obviously can't take to the bank but it does help me in a lot more ways than I can express.

Speaking of Hoss, You have to pop over there today and see how cute he looks in his NIU sweatshirt. It was a little birthday gift I sent him. I'll tell you what, he puts the Lady in Red to shame.

Now, back to me being a persistent bitch. When I was little I wanted to learn how to ride a bike. I was 5-years-old and didn't even own a bike. I was sure if I could learn by stealing borrowing a neighbor kid's bike, my parents would certainly be proud and get me one of my very own.

Every one of my siblings was too busy to teach me. My parents didn't think I was ready. Plus, they knew I didn't have a bike and my birthday was a long ways off.

That didn't stop the mini persistent bitch within. I got a hold of that kid's bike. I tried for hours. I fell countless times. I would fall, limp into the apartment, get a lecture from my parents, then a Band-Aid and head right back out as they shook their heads at me. This went on for hours.

I was beat to crap by the end of the day. I had Band-Aids on top of Band-Aids. There was no unhurt skin left on my knees, elbows, hands, chin, shoulders or my back.

I remember my dad's eyes looking teary as he pleaded with me to give it a rest.

I remember my mom's lips gently kissing each of the bandaged spots as she asked, "Why do you keep hurting my baby?"

They allowed me to go out there and try time and time again even though I could see they really didn't want me to.

I was riding on two wheels all by myself. In my excitement I called for them.

"MOM! DAD! MAAAA! LOOOK! HEY! I'M DOIN..." BAM!

They looked out the door just in time to see me eat dirt. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wiped my snot onto my arm, brushed myself off, looked at my parents who incidentally had the sympathetic head tilt going on, and I hopped back onto the bike.

I could hear them cheering and clapping but I couldn't look at them because I knew I would fall again. Instead I rode around and around in that parking lot yelling in a sing songy way, "I did it. I did it!"

Before the kid down the street realized I'd stolen his bike By the end of the day, I returned the bike to the kid I borrowed it from because my parents said they would take me to the toy store for my very own bike.

Persistence does pay off. As I sulked about the agent that wasn't, I remembered that day as if it were happening that moment. Your words of encouragement are just like Mom kissing the boo-boos or Dad tearing up. You blog buddies aren't just my imaginary friends who live in my computer. You all have become this giant newfangled bra. Now I ain't talkin' 'bout no under wire, poke you in the side of the tit for no good reason bra either. You are super supportive and when I get down, you lift me up. Thanks!