batshit crazy 2

I’ve always known I was different, a little quirky, and even an oddball perhaps.  I kinda like that about myself.  I never fit in with any cliques, didn’t want to, but I got along with just about everybody.  Besides, I don’t want to be like everyone else.  I like myself just the way I am; how many people can truly say that?


I took a Facebook Smackdown last night at the fingertips of a young lady whose daddy asked me out on a date.  I’ve never met the girl, but that’s just a mere technicality cuz according to her, she knows all about me.  She says I am “batshit crazy” and that she must approve who her daddy sees cuz her daddy deserves a good woman (or something to that effect).  I can’t argue with her first and last point.  But she said “batshit crazy” like it’s a BAD thing?!  Ouchie.


Truthfully, I am human (with a li’l bit of bat blood in me of course), and it hurt me at first that someone who has never even met me would call me such a thang, but then I remembered it doesn’t really matter what she or anyone else thinks of me.  My self-worth is based solely on what I think of myself, and I, quite frankly, think I’m pretty awesome – for realz!.


I get such a kick out of people calling me crazy and miserable and all the other not-so-nice terms, so much so that when it happens, I proceed to take on their description of me to the millionth-fold … just to make them think they are right.  Why bother trying to change their closed minds?  Not a one has ever come to me and asked my side of anything cuz they all know everything already … or so they think.  So screw it, I go for the shock factor and say really off-the-wall and sometimes nasty things.  Why not?  I might as well have some fun with the lashings I get, right?!  It ain’t like we’re gonna be friends … ever … just Facebook friends, which cracks me up cuz they call me names but keep me as a FB friend.  Kinda twisted, don’t ya think?  Amusing anyway.  I made up a saying once that got quite a few laughs.  It was, “Hey, come on, we’re all Facebook friends,” which we all know means nothing more than we peek into each other’s lives on a daily basis through a computer screen and many make judgments solely on what we see.  Whoops, got off track.


Ya so, fo’ shizzle, what is “batshit crazy” anyway?  I needz some street cred, bitches.  I reckon I’ve heard the term before but not as it applies to me.  So I looked it up … not in my Webster’s Dictionary.  Thankfully, I found the Urban Dictionary online, cuz there just ain’t enough words in the world, we gotta make up our own.  Here’s the rather long definition of “batshit crazy,” with my sidenotes in black:

A person who is batshit crazy is certifiably nuts.  Hmmm, I wonder how that chick is qualified to determine that I am certifiably nuts, especially without ever having met me.  Sounds like she’s got a great future as a shrink if she can diagnose someone without leaving the ‘puter.  She should be quite proud.  The phrase has origins in the old-fashioned term “bats in the belfry.”  Not gonna try to mislead anyone … I dunno what a belfry is, but if it’s anything like a French fry, bring on the ketchup baby … yum. 


Old churches had a structure at the top called a belfry, which housed the bells.  Oh dang, hold da Heinz.  I get it now – a belfry is what is known to me as a steeple.  Bats are extremely sensitive to sound and would never inhabit a belfry of an active church where the bell was rung frequently.  I’m not sensitive to sound, just sensitive to some of the idiotic things some people say, but I get over it quickly and turn it into a humorous blog post.  Occasionally, when a church was abandoned and many years passed without the bell being rung, bats would eventually come and inhabit the belfry.  I wonder if we pay for that BAT (bells are tollin’) study through taxes, wouldn’t surprise me.  So, when somebody said that an individual had “bats in the belfry” it meant that there was “nothing going on upstairs” (as in that person’s brain).  Yes, I’m sure y’all can tell there’s nothing going on in my brain.  In fact, I am pretty sure my brain was surgically removed years ago.  It’s a wonder I am able to type through all the drool on my keyboard.  To be BATSHIT CRAZY is to take this even a step further.  Oh gosh, this doesn’t sound good at all.  A person who is batshit crazy is so nuts that not only is their belfry full of bats, but so many bats have been there for so long that the belfry is coated in batshit. Hence, the craziest of crazy people are BATSHIT CRAZY.  Well no darn wonder my Degree deodorant has failed me, it ain’t BODY odor, it’s frickin’ BATSHIT.  And I’ve had the nerve to get upset with Sammie Sad Eyes for rolling in horse poo.

Dudes and Dudettes, I think y’all would understand … I gotta go take a shower.  I hope you enjoyed this tongue-in-cheek post.  The bottom line is not matter what ANYONE thinks of me or any of you for that matter, repeat after me:


So while I sometimes participate in the drama cuz it’s kinda fun to mess with peeps, the above stands.  I am gonna shine!  And haters gonna hate.  Have a great weekend, y’all!



No worries … I’m just bein’ silly.  Yes, I do need help … with growing this website.  It’s funny in a way (not ha ha funny but peculiarly comical) that my whole idea behind Unleash da Beast has been to encourage people to live life to the fullest, grab the bull by the horns, carpe diem, have no fear, just do it … blah-de-flippin-blah.  Ok, so I did it.  I set up this website with absolutely no know-how at all, and it’s a purty good one, in my ‘umble opinion.  Thank you Paster Ed of Holly Springs Baptist Church for making the “h” in “humble” silent.  I’ve gotten many laughs outta that over the years since I attended your church for that brief period of time.


This is how I woke up yesterday … I am a morning person.  I believe every day offers the possibility of opening up new doors and wonderful opportunities.  Doesn’t always happen … but it’s kinda neat when it does.  I rolled out today, like many other days in the last few months, saying to myself:  “This is the day I figure out this website stuff and learn how to grow my blog … piece of cake.  Before the day is out, I will know the difference between HTML4 and HTML5; I will understand what CSS, RSS, and XML mean; and I will know how to implement meta tags and how to maximize the use of plugins.  I will be an expert in website terminology, design, and management and search engine optimization.

Ya, ok, not so much but I started out in the normal fashion … checked out Facebook, checked out my blog for comments, and grilled up a cheeseburger, which I lovingly refer to as bkfst #1.  Then I searched and searched for something positive to post on FB.  I knew I was about to do an insane workout, so I posted this pic:


Sexy, right?  Then I had bkfst #2 – the sequel … my supa powa shake.  About a half hour after consuming that, I hit it:


Sweating makes me feel alive, but this hair thang?!  What am I thinking?  I took this pic yesterday … oh and a tip for y’all … telling your photo software to “enhance” just makes the grays even grayer, so I cancelled that option … and quickly.  And this dang Hippie Hair Growth (midlife crisis thang) I’m doing:


I mean really … remember what I said about the top growing out and the neck area staying the same length?  Hence, the bandana in the photo from my workout.  I don’t like not being able to see, but I’ve kinda been digging twirling that goofy curl around in my fingers today.  Don’t get me wrong, the excess hair is driving me a bit nuts … well, I’m already nuts, but this isn’t helping.  However, I made a deal with myself … I won’t get my hair cut til I make my 1st million, and that ain’t gonna happen if I don’t figure out this website administration and marketing stuff AND figure out exactly what I’m gonna SELL!  Ugh … I set my sights high, didn’t I?  But just think how cool it’s gonna be when y’all watch me on Youtube having someone trim my curly locks?  Won’t you be so proud?!  I sure will.

Ok so, when I know I have something important I need to do, like figure out where my next mortgage payment is coming from (kidding), … my undiagnosed attention-deficit disorder comes into play … EVERY TIME!  A few months ago, I got rid of a bunch of clothes cuz I was-a simplifying my life … poor folks need my stuff more than I do, so I made a 3-contractor-bag deposit at Goodwill.  I’ve come to regret that as the heat here has become unbearable and I have very few pairs of shorts and tanktops to wear.  But … Google is my frieeend … I actually Googled cutting jeans off into shorts.  You won’t believe some of the nonsense I found … but I did learn how to effectively make some cutoff shorts:


Yes, I reckon I could’ve just grabbed a pair of scissors and done the deed, but I wanted them to be just right. They look better than I thought they would, but I was hoping more for “frayed” bottoms, don’t remember how we used to do that.  It’s all good, though.

Ok, snap out of it, girl and get back to doing some real work — no more distractions — I need help growing my blog, making money, etc., so I hit up my friend Google for “Website administration Franklin NC,”  found two prospects, and promptly e-mailed them.  I still have a li’l shyness … would rather let them answer at their convenience instead of me calling them and having them tell me to screw or getting voicemail and never hearing back, leaving me to wonder if I did something wrong.  Just bein’ honest.  Anyway, this was almost 24 hours ago, still no word back from them.  That bothers me.  However, I found another company, checked out their website, took the plunge, and called.  Wow … I believe these are the folks who are gonna edumacate me on how to be successful.  Spoke to the gentleman for a bit, and then his wife called me and we talked for hours.  Meeting good people who share the same beliefs I do – priceless!


Wow, how ironic is this?  I’ve made posts about why I don’t always buy local.  Then I call this local guy, who didn’t even have a recognizable local number (Vonage I think), and he is just what I am looking for.  He even said, “I don’t usually deal with local people.”  Don’t get me wrong … this is a great place to live … but not a great place to prosper, but the interwebz IS a great place to prosper from virtually anywhere.

Well, howzabout dat?  Gonna read over the contract now and get it over to my new mentors in business.  After all, you’ve gotta spend money to make money.  I am so very excited at all I am about to learn.  Y’all have a fabulous Friday … gonna be a scorcher down here in da Bible Belt.



Ok … couple things I need to point out here.  This is not a recent image of me, but it is me.  Obviously, I was exhausted.  Looks like I was sitting next the da Captain’s seat on a boat … I figure Daddy was at the helm and most likely took this pic.  That’s fine … but does it not beg the question, “Who lets their child sleep in this position?!”  What if I got stuck like that?  For my own peace of mind, I am convinced that the pic was taken as soon as my wore out li’l body fell into this awkward, slumbered state, and then I was, very gently, picked up and put in the V-berth or at least onto a stretched out seat, to finish out this much-needed siesta.  Then again, I do suffer from lower back pain to this day … hmmm.  Maybe the folks giggled the whole way back to the marina, while mixing cocktails and eating cheese and crackers, and then stuffed me in the trunk of Dad’s old Mustang for the trip home.  I will never know.


This is how I have felt of late, just over the last week or so.  Remember I said I couldn’t even make it through a workout the other day.  Well, today I got through the iron-pumping session, thoroughly dug it, and then proceeded to … not sleep yet, felt like I needed to earn it.  I trimmed this goofy shrubs:


When we first bought da house, they were here to the right, but the late hubby moved them so he could plant some:


Weeds?!  Well, no, Azaleas, but all I’ve got now is weeds.  The Azaleas croaked.  So I trimmed, and this is very much a “Well, they look better than they did” effort:


I dunno how many times the trimmer blade got caught up in the railing.  And this is really gross, but if you look close enough, you will see a totally rusted out part of the railing (no worries, I’ve given up on selling this house, so no shame, baby – full disclosure).  SSE and the late hubby would go out every night and sit on the porch.  I asked Don why the dang railing rusted out right in front of where he sits.  He said, “Cuz that’s where I spit!”  Wait … what?!  He doesn’t even CHEW but he SPITS?  Don’t get me wrong, he was a very good man, but he loved to sit in that spot and tell me how to trim the shrubs, wash the vehicles, sweep the driveway, blah-de-blah.  Meanwhile, he was spittin’ all over the place?!  Ew.  I guess he wanted to instruct me on sanding the railing down and painting it.  Out of respect for my sweet Sammie … bless Don’s heart!

I did take a nap after that.  Here’s what I was doin’ yesterday:


Um, no, that’s not my yard.  BUT, my yard did get mowed.  It doesn’t have the smiley face cuz it’s all brown and yucky … I guess we are in a drought.  I was gonna buy a push mower and do it myself, but some mysterious mower man took pity on this damsel in distress.  Of course, had he known what he was in for, he might never woulda showed up (I live in the South, where proper English is frowned upon):


This is my burn pile that’s been empty since I made a blog post about burnin’ it up!  MMM (mysterious mower man) came to the door and asked if I had anything that could cut branches.  Luckily, I did.  He had to sharpen same and bitched about their ineffectiveness most of the time, but that’s not my problem cuz all I wanted was my grass shortened, right?  I felt I needed to help in some way; he was a bit resistant to that but did relent.  I said, “Holy cow, I never thought you would cut THIS many branches down … and BIG branches at that … we’ve got enough to make a whole new forest.”  Know what he said?  “You don’t know how many times these branches almost took me out while I was mowing.”  What a baby!  Has he never played duck, duck, goose?!


Oh … hmmm … well geez.   I never thought of THAT (just come in for some lemonade!).  I said, “Ya, there’s some trees in da yard … they used to make me giggle.”  “GIGGLE?” he asked, as I “chuckled” my way through the explanation.  Giggle is such a sweet, innocent word … obviously it was one he could not comprehend.  I said, “Yeah, my hat would get caught on a branch and I’d lose it, but it never, ever dawned on me to clip the branches.”  I’d just stop daBeastMower, climb off, grab the hat, put it back on, and salute to my neighbor’s porch just in case they were watching?!  Isn’t that what everyone does?  Apparently not, as now I’ve gotta get a burn permit and pray that I don’t set my whole neighborhood on fire.  I had a burn pile once and even invited a firefighter over to help me with it, but all he wanted to do was show me his hose.  Pig.  Hehe!


So the whole point of my post … why do I feel so fatigued?  I wanted to blame perimenopause or hypothyroid or anything I could take a pill for.  I’m already hypothyroid, so just increase the dose.  But I fear it is the above photo … my creation … Heaven in a Bowl … that has wore my ass out.  Two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, 4 scoops of vanilla ice cream, and several tablespoons of Hershey’s hot fudge.  Not a regular on the menu for a low-carber.  But oh so good.

Yes I am a self-diagnoser.  I Googled “fatigue in women.”  What came up was too much caffeine and sugar.  I guarantee y’all that it ain’t gonna be sumpn as simple as taking more thyroid hormone, taking less brain tumor medicine, or taking a new vitamin.  Although, I hope it is.  If my doc, whom I have only seen one time in several years, says I need to drop “Heaven in a Bowl,” I will feed him same and ask him why.

Dat’s da fact, Jack!



OMG this thing is amazing, and I’d never even heard of it til today.  I ditched satellite TV to save some money.  It seemed ridiculous paying $80+ a month for something I hardly ever watched.  I had hoped that with an antenna I could still get the local ABC channel but no luck there, being in the mountains and all.  It’s kinda weird having someone over for dinner and to visit and not having 180 channels to breeze through during the awkward silent moments.  So last week I signed up for a free trial of:


Ya so I’m a li’l outta the loop these days with modern technology.  I knew that it would take some maneuvering to get it on my 50” TV.  Thankfully, I have a self-professed high-tech redneck friend who hooked up my ‘puter to the TV with an HDMI cable … simple as that and I was surfing the web on a 50” monitor and watching movies and TV shows … what a riot.  But it was a pain cuz whenever I’d want to watch something, I would have to unhook the ‘puter and move it from the kitchen to the living room.  Hence, I couldn’t surf the web and watch the boob tube, or as my dad so affectionately called it … the idiot box, at the same time, which is simply unacceptable in my world:


So I dug out an old laptop, as I have yet to get my Dell fixed from when it crashed on my trip.  Unfortunately, I could find no way to hook it up to the television cuz it doesn’t have an HDMI input or whatever.  I tried using an S cable to no avail.  The TV is a li’l too old to have a VGA cable input thingy.  Bottom line is, I was screwed.  THAT is until I discovered the ROKU … Tiny Box.  Big Entertainment!  AND I was able to buy it locally at Radio Shack for the same price as Amazon, save for the lovely NC state sales tax.

I had already used my neighbor’s services to get groceries and hit Wallyworld this morning, so how would I get to Radio Shack … hmmm:


Don’t think Franklin has a taxi service and it’s too hot for da BeastTrek, but hey … da BeastMobile needed to be started anyway … woo wee!  Half a tank of gas still in it … yea buddy.


It was super easy to set up … just hook it to the TV with an HDMI cable (there are other ways to hook it up too if you don’t have the HDMI technology), plug the li’l doohickey into the wall (that’s it on top of the TV – cumbersome ain’t it … NOT), hit a few buttons and then it starts looking for a wireless network, of which I have in da house!  I typed in the password and the rest is history.  I still have not thoroughly researched all I can get on this thing, but I know it’s over 500 channels (some free and some pay).  I was just thinking yesterday how it would be so nice to be able to order channels a la carte.  I only watch like three.  I don’t think I will be able to get the local news, but I can get it online.

Check this sweet thang out at ROKU!



I remember when me and da family moved from Massachusetts to New Hampshire when I was just 6 years old.  I remember peeing in the foundation of my future neighbor’s home (sorry Mr. Deacy, hehe).  I dunno why I even remember that … I just know we used to drive up to visit the “lot,” known once as 21 Blueberry Circle.  I recall, shortly after we moved in, watching the Deacy’s move in from the big city of Lawrence (where they actually had CABLE TV) … the boy had a freakin’ BIG WHEEL and a Huffy bicycle … I couldn’t wait to make friends with him.  I remember huge sunflowers, taller than me, in the yard.  What’s really neat is I still have the original home plan that my dad got from Better Homes and Gardens magazine:


I also have the actual blueprint.  Why?  I dunno.  Here is da house shortly after it was built … not quite as much glass as BH&G showed:


Heck, no grass either.  But there was grass eventually … complete with homeplate by the lobster trap on the lower left side and three other bases for our neighborhood whiffleball tournaments.  And check out my first 5-speed Schwinn bicycle … good times … Schwinn was a special brand in my family.  My bedroom was in the cellar, lower right corner.  There was a “well” thingy by the window that one morning held a skunk.  Ew.  We put a 2 x 6 down as a ramp, and the li’l stinker found its way out.  Amen.


I will never forget the lake … Big Island Pond … the meeting every year to “open” it up … freakin’ awesome.  Swimming in the cold, cold water.

I remember Mrs.Deacy, a school teacher suffering with cancer … shoot I didn’t understand it then.  She was a beautiful woman.  I remember her looking out her front door as the neighbor’s Beagle, Snoopy, that lived on the other side of her, was attached to our li’l husky, Lassie, and Dad pouring hot water over them to try and separate them.  LOL.  They made cute puppies.  Lassie, after two litters, “ran away” or so my parents told us.


I really had it made as a kid … times were a lot simpler then … right?!  This is me in my yard in 1980 on Bramwell, my neighbor Davida’s horse.  Flannel shirt and Levi’s jeans … yea buddy.  I’d get up in the morning and put my jeans on the woodstove to warm them up while I took a shower.  Life was good.  My dad loved the woodstove so much that he burned a damn line right across his lower back from leaning up on it … burned it right through his down vest.  What a goober … the Born Loser … that’s what he always said.  Remember that cartoon?


This must’ve been after Daddy built the mancave A-frame that attached to the house via the back porch.  It was awesome, complete with a garage and back driveway.  It was his Sunday escape and a great place for family parties.  We even held Christmas out there and one year had to shovel our way out to the gifts.  I don’t care who you are … kid memories are the best.  Look at me … I sucked at baseball (was good at softball), but I loved being in uniform.  I thought I looked like Nicholas from Eight is Enough, hehe.  The ball field was just a hop, skip, and jump down a dirt trail from our house.  I never let my parents come to my games … I was afraid I would disappoint them.

A lotta history in my ‘hood.

This will probably sound really bizarre, but when I wake up each morning and hear the sounds coming in my bedroom window … I imagine myself in my bed on Blueberry Circle … hearing the noise from the ball field and thinking about riding my bike up to Don’s Market to buy milk and cigarettes for my parents.  Yup … kids used to be able to do that.  Crazy, huh?  Life was so damn simple then.


Now I’m dealing with a shit-rolling mutt.  See it on her collar?  Love her to death, but why the infatuation with horse poo?  I took her collar off and tried to catch her to give her a bath.  She ran away.  Meantime, sitting on my front porch, I see fireflies and a white-tail deer running through the yard across the street.  Beautiful.

Dunno where da dawg went … I reckon she will come back.  I probably better go to bed.  What do you remember about being a child?  Cuz I am not the only one who thinks about this stuff … am I?  I miss those days.



This is how I kept busy yesterday … string beans.  I never knew why they were called string beans as opposed to green beans … now I do.  Yesterday it was string beans, but a couple weeks ago I helped my neighbor with standard “green” beans too — no strings attached.  I’m confused about one thing, and that is, no matter which way I snapped each “string” bean, there was a string on one side that I was tasked to pull off.  What about the string on the other side?  Cuz I know dang well if I had chosen to snap the udder way, a string would’ve appeared, asking to be yanked off.


Whatever … who am I to question the green bean God?  I hardly ever eat vegetables anyway … yuck.  But I will score a couple quarts of the long, slender beauties, with which I will make green bean casserole cuz I do like that … yum!  My recommendation … use Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom and GAHHHLIC soup … not just plain cream of mushroom.


This is how I have felt of late.  Heck, I’m not even working!  I shouldn’t be so tired.  I know I’m riding my bike to town and stuff, but that shouldn’t wear me out too much.  After all … I’ve been working out very vigorously and very regularly, but I could not get through my 1-hour weightlifting with cardio intervals video yesterday.  That has only happened to me once before, and at that time I ate something and was able to continue.  This time, I went back to bed for a few hours.  When I woke up, I realized I had some:

Tough Decisions Ahead Road Sign

Like, dudes and dudettes, I need to buy a lawnmower.  I sold my rider and my push mower cuz I thought the house was sold.  I had a polite, young Lawn Boy taking care of things for me, til a family feud intervened, of which I was not a part.  So I joked about buying one of those push things with no power … didn’t even think they existed anymore … but GUESS WHAT?


They do!  For $115, I could own this simple sucka, hehe.  Or if I wanted to spend a li’l more …:


This baby could be mine; it’s the right color anyway for a BeastMower.  Now peeps might think I am crazy, but ya know what?  I’m not.  I “sanely” sold my lawn-mowing gear cuz I had a contract on my house … house didn’t sell, so now what do I do?  The grass is stilI a-growin’!  I could pay someone a buncha $$$ a pop to mow, or I could buy a mower and incorporate it into my workout routine.  Can’t afford a rider … would be best off with a self-propelled push mower, but I kinda think it would be a hoot to buy one of the above.  No gas or electricity needed, just pushing power provided by peeps … well okay … provided by ME!

Another decision I’ve gotta make revolves around these two things:


Money and my mortgage.  Had hoped not to hafta worry about the mortgage anymore, but it ain’t looking like my house is gonna sell anytime soon … hasn’t even been shown in months.  Sooooo … am I gonna hafta … gasp … get a job?!  Ack!  Don’t get me wrong … I am a hard worker and don’t mind working per se; I just hoped to never hafta work for someone else again, cuz, well, at the risk of sounding cocky … I’ve always been able to do things better than any employer I’ve ever had!  And, quite frankly, I end up losing respect for power-hungry yet incapable, self-righteous, and disrespectful leaders.  Heck I can’t even call most of them leaders … just people in leadership positions with over-inflated egos who abuse their power.  I don’t mean ALL leaders now, just many that I have had experience with.


Along the same lines and also attributed to Plato:  “The heaviest penalty for declining to rule is to be ruled by someone inferior to yourself.” ― Plato, The Republic.

Here’s where I’m at, minus the blonde hair and red lipstick and fingernail polish, but those can certainly be arranged:


I’ve mentioned many times that I want to get serious about writing, been gathering lots of great resources on how to make money doing same, but have acted like I did in grade school.  By that I mean waiting til the night before the book report is due to even get the book from the library, hoping beyond hope it will be there, let alone actually reading the doggone thing.  I dunno how, but I could do a book report, complete with a summary of the book and three character sketches, without actually reading said book, AND I would always score an A or a B.

So what does that tell me?  I work well under pressure … maybe I hafta go completely broke before I will be motivated enough to make a career out of writing!!!  No worries … I’m gonna make it!




Rode to the grocery store this morning … was dangerously low on toilet paper.  Ya notice a lot more when riding a bike.  I dunno why but I think tractors sitting in fields look cool.



I could only buy a 12-pack of TP rather than the usual 24-pack.  I really thought it would fit in the bag, duh!  Luckily, it tucked in nicely under the seat.  I must’ve looked like a gooberfrig biking it up the road!  Gone are the days of really stocking up, though.  I always feel better when I have an overabundance of paper goods in da house, just one of my many quirks:




I call this the Stone Church … it’s very pretty.  Of all the times I’ve driven by it and even run radar from the parking lot, I never noticed the water fountain to the left.  Doesn’t matter … it doesn’t work … I tried it this morning, lol.



I’m starting to look my age!



Beautiful horses next to the church and Talley Farm off in the distance … can’t beat some of the views around these parts.



These pics don’t do it justice, but this hill is a MONSTA to try to climb on two wheels.  It was even too much for the TP, which went flopping off when I almost dropped the bike while trying to walk … yes walk … it up part of the incline:


The bags were full of some rather heavy groceries, which threw me all outta wack when trying to push the bike by hand … I was a dang mess!



That right there is a horseradish deviled egg.  I wolfed down four of ‘em when I got home … sooooo yummy.

Quick story (well, maybe not so quick) … then I gotta do some house cleaning.  One of the weirdest nights on the job as a deputy … a couple of things happened on this road where I took most of these pics.  Early in the evening, there were two separate calls of cows in the road, one by where that tractor above is and one near where those horses are (these locations are a couple miles apart).  I was busy on something else so other officers responded.  Unfortunately, the good folks in dispatch were unable to locate the owner of the cows that were hanging out by where that John Deere is now.

Some time around 11 p.m. or so, we got a call way north … dude said there was a black guy on a motorcycle driving up and down his street shooting a rifle.  Well holy crap.  First of all, the call struck me as odd in that there are very few black people in Franklin.  And how do you shoot a rifle while driving a motorcycle?  Not to mention that the road this cool rider was supposedly wreaking havoc on is pretty well populated, so why would only one person on the street be calling to report such a dangerous thing?  Nonetheless, those types of calls are scary.

Anyway, it turned out to be nothing.  The man who called it in believed it happened, but we could find no evidence of same.  Can you say “hallucination?”  While walking around looking for rifle casings, another officer on my shift told me he had to use his Taser on a cow earlier … it had him backed up to a fence!  That had to be quite a sight.

Around 1 a.m. that same night/morning … I was driving down the straightaway by John Deere when I noticed something in the road.  There was a vehicle coming towards me as well, but it was too late.  I thought, “OH NO, A COW,” and then heard kerplunkaplunkaplunkplunkplunk plunkety plunk plunk (or something like that).  I stopped and looked in my rearview mirror.  The other vehicle was on the wrong side of the road, so I knew it must’ve hit the mostly black beast, who was very difficult to see in the dark.  I jumped outta my squad and ran up to the the driver’s window to make sure he was ok.  He was shaken up but not injured and already on the phone telling his wife what had happened.

The cow was nowhere to be seen.  I asked the guy if it went flying into the field, having visions of those cows soaring through the air in the movie Twister, but he pointed down … it was underneath his SUV!  Thank God the poor moo-moo died instantly.  It was literally cooking from the heat of the truck.  Y’all should’ve seen the look on the tow truck driver’s face when he arrived!



That is what I woke up this morning wondering.  All I know is I don’t want to be here.  Don’t get me wrong … I live in a beautiful place and have a great home.  I am very, very fortunate … never thought I’d own a home (or that the bank would for me).  It’s the ugliest house in my ‘hood, but that’s ok cuz it’s mine.  When I woke up this morning, I realized there was nothing here for me.  I’m a Yankee … peeps around here don’t like my type.  That’s ok.  Some of the best things in my life happened to me here … becoming a law enforcement officer and owning a home, and I even got to spend time with the man of my dreams … I will always treasure those moments.  Some of the worst things in my life happened while I lived here, too, but I won’t go into that.


One of the most awesomest (I know, not a word) things that happened since being here in Franklin is my Sammie Sad Eyes.  Granted, she really was my late hubby’s dawg, but she has been a blessing to me as well.  Above is her playing with sweet li’l Forrest this morning.  I reckon Forrest is gonna end up being bigger than SSE, based on the size of his paws.  It’s neat to watch them play.  The simple things in life are what I enjoy the most nowadays.

Been thinking about adopting this goofy mutt, whom my cute li’l neighbor Julia named Sarah:


She is smaller than da Samster, but I dunno how old she is.  I posted a pic on Facebook and tagged Animal Control, figuring if anyone reported her missing, they would be able to hook us up.  But Sarah had no collar on and was skin and bones.  Animal Control said they could check to see if she had a chip.  I replied that I had no vehicle to take her to them.  They deleted all the messages and never offered to come out … dang.  So for now, my neighbors are taking care of her, but I kinda hope someday she will be mine.  She is scared of me now though, so it might not come to fruition.

Oh, I worked on my shoe today … I might just have a future in shoe repair, gotta find some way to make some dough:


Super Glue and the right tools.  I also found a really delicious snackypoo …


I mean anti-frickn-oxidants galore … and terribly tasty to boot!  Raisins are a fruit, right?  There’s like green grapes on the package.  I hate fruit, but I do like it basted with chocolate.  And, by the way, I have about finished accessorizing da BeastTrek:


The bags are great, and today I put a water bottle holder on as well.  I do ok riding to town and back ‘cept for the last hill coming home.  It’s a big’n.  I end up walking da BeastBike up most of it … even had a dude stop and ask me if I was ok.  I thought that was kinda sweet.  Only in the South … that would not happen in Yankeeville.  That is why I really love it here.


I just wish I could bring da Samster with me.  The first time I left the house the other day to go to an AA meeting, I got to the end of the road, and there she was chasing me.  She’d come out da doggie door.  I had to go back and block her in.  Not gonna lie … that kinda hurt.  I know she is gonna miss going for rides, as she loved that.  Unfortunately, there ain’t no basket big enough to accommodate a 70-lb canine.

Sooooo, I have some choices to make.  I have thought about moving here, to the campground in Bainbridge, GA, that I loved so much and caught that baby gator.  I was told it’s only $300 a month so I sent a message asking if I could work that off somehow:


No word back yet, but I can afford $300 a month, if necessary.

THEN, amazingly, I got an invite back to St. Pete, FL.  I loved that campground.  Ya had to drive through the ghetto to get to it, but it was my favorite place on the whole trip.  If I go back there, I will buy Rollerblades for sure cuz it’s right on the Pinellas Trail.  Lord help me decide.



But I’ll never lose my sense of humor.  During me and Sambone’s morning walk today, the heel part of my sneaker sole starting flapping around.  I thought, “So that’s why I haven’t worn these in awhile … why didn’t I just trash ‘em?”  When I got home, I supa glued the heel back on, but I could only glue about half way around cuz I ran outta the sticky substance.  It seemed to be holding quite well til I took a bike ride to the grocery store, fully intending to buy some more supa glue to tack down the rest of the rubber heel.


I parked da BeastTrek to a chain link fence post sorta behind the store, as there was nothing to lock my ride to by the front door.  Is there no such thing as a bike rack anymore?!  Hell, they’ve got parking for pregnant women right by the handicapped spots.  I guess pregnancy is a handicap, but riding a bike 6 hilly miles isn’t?!  Anyway, as I rounded the corner to the front of the store, the toe part of my sole started flappity flapping … really badly; there was no hiding it!  I was walking by a few store employees who were outside on break, and a lady yelled, “You lost your soul!”  I cracked up cuz I heard soul when she was clearly saying sole.  I knew my next stop after the grocery store.  Oh, the guy in the pic above?  No where to be found.  He’s a myth, I reckon.  I yanked the whole sole off and put it in my purse.  Now … about souls … mine in particular:


I lost the “silence the mind” challenge today.  I’m not going to go into a whole lotta detail because I want to remain positive; I do not want to discourage my fellow soldiers who are fighting the same battle as me but winning.  I just wanna say that my failure certainly wasn’t due to a lack of support … the folks I’ve met in AA have been incredible.  I’ve also had a ton of support from people I know from my hometown as well as here in Franklin, and I thank all of y’all.  I consider myself extremely antisocial.  No matter, it’s been amazing to meet such genuine peeps.


Under “How it Works” in the Big Book, it says, “Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves.”  Ouch!  Simple?  I am one of the most painfully honest persons I know … but I realize now I haven’t been honest with the most important person in my life … ME!  That’s all I can figure anyway.

So, no worries … life goes on.  As my dad used to say, “We’re gonna make it.”  Thank you to each and every one of you.



I forgot to take a picture of dis big rig before I sold it, and this was all I could find.  It was a great truck; I loved driving it.  This beast could move so “get out da way!”  Whoa, I now notice it has fog lights, for which I recently found the switch the other day but didn’t know what it was for – I just put two and two together … jeepers creepers!  Better late than never, I reckon.  Crap, I also just realized I left that smiley face plate on it.  Dangnabbit!  I did, however, make sure to use up most of the fuel before unloading Big Green on its new owner:


So, you ask, how am I gonna get around now?  Well, hellooooo BeastTrek …


Good thing I didn’t sell this bad boy cuz it is now my primary mode of transportation.  I’ve still got da BeastMobile in case of emergencies (oh and 911 for life-threatening emergencies).  This was a pretty expensive bike, bought it years ago, so why doesn’t it have a kickstand?  I never could figure that out.  Apparently, on pricy bikes, simple things like kickstands are options rather than standard equipment.  And who wouldn’t opt to add the kickstand for an additional fee … gotta protect that investment and not just lay it on the ground, right?!  I’ll tell ya who … me!!!  I’m stubborn like that.  Speaking of stubborn:


There’s been a lot of talk where I live about the importance of shopping locally and supporting the small businesses around town rather shopping online or driving to a bigger city to spend our hard-earned money.  To me, it’s a dollars and sense issue.  I’ve got some sense but not a lotta dollars.  When I do make my first million and can comfortably spend, I will gladly support local business.  However, let me give you an example of why I do most of my shopping online.  I need some accessories for da BeastTrek – a rack and saddlebags to carry groceries (bought locally) in.  I found this on Amazon, perfect:


Just $32.99 for the saddlebags and $29.66 for the rack to mount it on … plus free 2-day shipping cuz I’m an Amazon Prime member.  Ok, so $62.65 for the whole sha-bang.  I always research things I want to buy online before looking locally.  I want to be sure I am getting a good deal; I call that smart shopping.  So I stopped by the place I bought the bike here in town to see what they had for bags-n-racks.  The first thing I noticed was the least expensive rack was over $40.  I asked the salesman about bags.  All he had were smaller bags, no saddlebags at all.  But … he told me he could order me some for about $100.  I’m sorry, well no I’m not … to me, this is a no brainer … $140+ and gotta wait for the bag to come in or $62.65 and have it in two days.  I opted to order through Amazon and pay $3.99 per item to have both shipped overnight – total cost $70.63, half of what I would have spent locally.

I didn’t walk outta the local bike shop empty handed, however:


I have done absolutely NO maintenance on da BeastBike since I bought it except pump some air in the tires on occasion and wipe the dust off with a wet cloth.  I figure I better take care of this thing since it’s about to get a whole lot more use than it ever did (I might have ridden it two or three times a year, if that).  So I asked the guy what I needed for a tune-up.  I ended up buying me some White Lightning.  Nooooo, I didn’t fall off the wagon.  I’m talking degreaser and lube, not moonshine!  The dude said to clean the chain with the degreaser and then grease it up with the wax.  Huh?!  That’s like taking a shower then rolling around in the mud, but ok, I’ll give it a shot!

We live in a different world now:


A world where with an internet connection, anything and everything is at our fingertips … literally!  No longer do we have to leave the house if we choose not to.  You can find anything online … even AA meetings.  Business is global now, not so much local.  Companies must adjust and grow with that in mind.  I’ve always wanted my own business, and I am working towards that slowly but surely.  I started with this website for a simple reason … the internet is the business ticket to the future, where more people can be reached than anywhere else.  That said, y’all …


Smile with tongue out

© 2011 Unleash da Beast Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha