tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63460698137369575052024-03-08T05:06:17.870-05:00My JOllie HomeJOllie Primitives Heavy-Duty Metal Barn Stars and Primitive DécorJ'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-52417744196999338202009-02-25T15:17:00.005-05:002009-02-25T16:47:18.986-05:00Pied PiperI'm <del>flabbergasted </del>a little surprised.<br /><br />Come on people. Be for real.<br /><br />I <del>have been a bitch on wheels </del>haven't been feeling too great for the last couple of days. For the bits of time that I wasn't hiding under the covers in bed I was parked in front of the computer.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Reading blogs.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I saw that I lost a follower.<br />Then I read a post saying "OMG I LOST 46 FOLLOWERS"<br />And another "WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID"</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Followed by "COME BACK, COME BACK I MISS YOU ALL"</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It was the Google Flu, people. Google was "adjusting" something somewhere in their Technical Batcave. No Followers were lost, they just got shuffled into the wrong bus line for awhile.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Google should apologize for damaging the psyche of so many bloggers in so little time.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Some of the "I've Lost My Followers" posts were tongue-in-cheek.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Some were sincere.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Some promised never to say <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-he-didnt.html">"faux"</a> again.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Some said <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-he-didnt.html">"faux-ity faux faux."</a></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Just A Reminder: Blogging is <span style="font-size:85%;">NOT </span><span style="font-size:100%;">a popularity contest. </span></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Blogging IS all about you.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It's whatever you want it to be. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It's in your words.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It's in your time. <span style="font-size:85%;">Don't apologize for being a "bad blogger"</span> </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Blogging is not meant for you to feel inadequate, or all-powerful, or smart or stupid.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Blogging is a release. It's a place to vent. Or share. Or make wisecracks about your sisters. <span style="font-size:85%;">because you love them.</span> </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It's a tool, people.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#330000;"><p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SaW3C-JbH6I/AAAAAAAAAPM/I6e7cm00dzY/s1600-h/RED_SHOE_REVOLUTION_Page_0%5B1%5D_(2).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306848997596143522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SaW3C-JbH6I/AAAAAAAAAPM/I6e7cm00dzY/s400/RED_SHOE_REVOLUTION_Page_0%5B1%5D_(2).jpg" border="0" /></a><br /> Love Yourself Just The Way You Are.</p><p>Embrace who you are right now, help another woman love herself too. Life is too short, time is too precious. Let's wear our hearts on our feet, put on your red shoes and walk with your head held high! <br /></p><p> <a href="http://libertypostgallery.blogspot.com/">Liberty Post</a> and the lady in <a href="http://lifeinredshoes.blogspot.com/">Red Shoes</a> would like you to share the RedShoe Love-a-thon. If you'd like to join in, add the photo to your sidebar. </p><p>P.S. I'm still following you.<br /><br /><br /></p></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com69tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-7531444142860922022009-02-21T23:37:00.006-05:002009-02-22T08:41:47.353-05:00Once Upon A Time....<strike></strike><strike></strike><strike></strike><strike><span style="color:#330000;"></span></strike><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SaDXVi5OzyI/AAAAAAAAAO8/ayw57ysyyAM/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305477126186520354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 49px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SaDXVi5OzyI/AAAAAAAAAO8/ayw57ysyyAM/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>.......there was a <del>beautiful princess </del>Crotchety Old Mom. Her daughter was 17 and no longer in need of constant supervision.</div><div></div><div>The Princess Daughter bought Mom a new book called "He's Just Not That Into You." </div><div>Crotchety Old Mom read it like an owner's manual.</div><div></div><div>Several times.</div><div></div><div>And realized she just wasn't into the <del> frog </del> prince she was dating, nor he her. </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">Mom is well aware of her misplaced grammar.</span></div><div><span style="color:#333333;"><span style="color:#330000;">She bid him adieu.</span> </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#330099;"><span style="color:#330000;">Mom was pretty much resigned to remaining single for the rest of her days.</span> </span></div><div><span style="color:#330099;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330099;">Not that there's anything wrong with that.</span> </span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">She would have been perfectly content to take up bird-watching or basket-weaving or a few more stray cats.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">The Internet beckoned.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">GottaMatch had a special deal going on.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Her BFF had emailed many delightful "profiles" of eligible princes for the Mom's amusement.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">Mom now wishes she would have saved one particularly amusing picture from StupidCupid.com. It featured a very short very plump biker dude wearing nothing but a pair of leather trousers and a large dagger.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;">Seriously.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Mom joined GottaMatch so she and her BFF could amuse one another by picking out potential Princes for each other.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">GottaMatch would also pick out potential Princes and email their profiles. Kind of like a Royal Personal Shopper.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">I was shopping. Not to buy, just s.h.o.p.p.i.n.g.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">GottaMatch dropped a few "you might find this Prince <del>tolerable</del> amusing"in the Royal Inbox.<br />Meh. </span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">One evening LuckyGuy landed in the Royal Inbox. He said he was lucky because he had broken his neck @ C1 and C2 and suffered spinal cord injuries (eerily similar to <a href="http://www.juicycerebellum.com/christopherreeve.htm">Christopher Reeves</a>); but that after a year of rehab he was no longer wheelchair bound and was getting around pretty well on his own, thankyouverymuch.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">CrotchetyOldMom is a rehab nurse. She recognized that LuckyGuy had worked his fanny off to get back on his feet.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">She sent him an "atta boy" note.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">He emailed back.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">He was funny.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">She emailed "you amuse me"</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Barrage of emails.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Followed by phone calls.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">And a date.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">He came over and helped with dinner. We made meatloaf.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">the Sisters called. "What are you DOING?," they asked.</span></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="color:#330000;">"we are making meatloaf."</span></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">"OH! IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL IT? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"</span></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">the Sisters amused themselves. </span></div><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;"></span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I made meatloaf last night. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Mr Sweetie will say that it's just as good as the first time he had it. When his name was LuckyGuy. </p></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-44155284119378732312009-02-20T06:00:00.000-05:002009-02-20T06:00:00.135-05:00Ms. Fixit<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ4XaKEABzI/AAAAAAAAAOc/dN3--TQJbZ8/s1600-h/feet.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304703149234194226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ4XaKEABzI/AAAAAAAAAOc/dN3--TQJbZ8/s400/feet.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#660000;">Big Sis K and Little Sis Stew left me here in the snow belt.<br />Alone.<br />With BSK's crap-mobile uh van parked in my driveway.<br />While they go to the tropics to snorkel and play footsie in the sand and visit my brother.<br />Where they will talk trash about me.<br />Because when you are laying about in the sand complaining about the heat and the humidity and how the sun's a little too bright for your liking <del>and your beloved family member is unable to eavesdrop </del>you just naturally think of that particular family member.<br />right?<br />K. asked me to move the van around the driveway every day so the brakes wouldn't seize up or freeze or whatever the heck malingering tempramental brakes do when they aren't being coddled and loved.<br />Well I really MEANT to go out and move it. But I'm easily distracted.<br />I didn't bother to move the van for a <del>several many </del>couple of days.<br />The brakes froze.<br />Solid.<br />I emailed the knowlegable folks at CarTalk's Chat Forum.<br />"Take the wheels off and bleed the brake lines"<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>huh</strong> ?<br /></span>"get under the car and....." Didn't even finish reading that one. I don't do "get under the car."<br />"take your torque wrench and..." <span style="color:#990000;">Yeah, let me just root around under the kitchen sink for that torque wrench. It's around here somewhere...</span><br />"Spray the brakes with Brakleen."<br />"Whatever you do, don't spray the brakes with Brakleen."<br />I went to the Highest Authority of Brakedom. The owner of the crapmobile van.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993300;">"Uh, hi, K., your brakes suck."<br />"Oh, yeah, I know. Just gun the gas and they'll break loose. You'll hear a big old CLUNK but that's OK. Go ahead, gun it."<br />I gunned it. Clunk. The van goes back and forth. Problem solved.<br />Mr Sweetie: "Uh, honey? The back wheels aren't moving. You're sliding on that big patch of ice."<br />Problem not solved. Big patches of rubber on the driveway.<br /><del>shit </del>crap.<br />My BIL calls. He is crying laughing.<br />"Hey, Stew called and asked me to come over and move the van because she didn't think you knew how to drive an automatic."</span> </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It's almost true. I drive standard shift. Put me in an automatic and I will always hit the brake and the gas simultaneously thinking that the brake is the clutch because that's how ya shift gears, ya know. <span style="font-size:85%;color:#666600;">but not in an automatic.</span><br />Long discussion about the nerve of those two leaving us behind to do the dirty work while they're frolicking in the sand.<br />Stew owes Tim big favors for coming down here , getting under the van in three feet of snow and fixing the brakes while I singlehandedly hold the van up with my girly biceps.<br />Hah.<br />not really. But that's his story.<br />The van decided to get over its temper fit and moved. All four wheels this time. With me driving.<br />Problem solved.<br />I better get a big big souvenier out of this.<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#330000;"></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-80314038392150476832009-02-18T19:16:00.006-05:002009-02-19T12:13:23.037-05:00Bunny TalesMy BFF was married to Mr. D., a complex and interesting character with a complex and interesting job.<br /><br />One of the less complex aspects of his job was wading through sewers. The massive ones. The reason for doing such a <del>ewww gross </del>thing is lost in the mists of time and my foggy memory. Mr. D. would hold forth dissertations on what was found in the depths of underground plumbing......"those big lady things women wear? Ya know? Those whaddacallums."</span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#333333;">"Pads, Mr.D. Kotex.", his wife would sweetly intone.</span><br /><br /><br /></p><p><span style="color:#333333;">"Yeah, them. Ya know what they look like in the dark? In a sewer? When you come up on them all of a sudden?"</span> (wife is smirking. She's heard this story.)<br /></p><p>"Bunnies. They look like bunnies in the sewer."<span style="font-size:85%;"> (holding arms wide wide apart to demonstrate that they look like <strong>monster </strong>bunnies.) what a comforting thought. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">May the Monster Bunnies be kind to you this month. </span><br /></p><p>There is no possible way to segue to the point of this post ...<span style="color:#330033;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">drumroll please</span>......<span style="color:#330000;"> Patrick of <a href="http://thecre8orstouch.blogspot.com/">Cre8tor's Touch</a> is celebrating his 100th post with a Primitive Angel Bunny Giveaway<span style="color:#330000;">. I really really want it. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="color:#330033;"><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="color:#330000;">I once fancied myself a dollmaker.<span style="font-size:85%;"> I'm still a doll maker, dang it, they're just on the back burner right now.</span> See those clowns and angels up on my header? I made them. (takes modest bow) I will love them to my dying day, <span style="font-size:85%;">even if I sold them</span>..... </span></span></span><br /></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Many thanks to the clowns and angels that visit here. You all make my day (<span style="font-size:85%;"> my family's heard all the stories before. They don't even listen politely when I try to form a sentence....they wait for me to blog about it...)</span></span></p><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ2Al7aZu9I/AAAAAAAAAOE/W-eAS2fYT4o/s1600-h/pierrotte-4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304537325204257746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ2Al7aZu9I/AAAAAAAAAOE/W-eAS2fYT4o/s400/pierrotte-4.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ2A7dD3MpI/AAAAAAAAAOM/rTHfRPkysTc/s1600-h/jacque-5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304537695013778066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZ2A7dD3MpI/AAAAAAAAAOM/rTHfRPkysTc/s400/jacque-5.jpg" border="0" /></a>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-10319496902230559912009-02-18T12:41:00.005-05:002009-02-18T14:07:25.502-05:00Happiness Is.....going to <a href="http://stuck-in-the-sticks.blogspot.com/">Tiffy's</a> blog and giving her *birthday hugs* on Thursday..... she L.O.V.E.S. hugs! A Bloggy Birthday Blowout Hug-a-thon </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;">don't kill me Tiffany.....<span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">please be sure to stop by and wish her a Happy Birthday! <span style="font-size:78%;color:#6633ff;">you don't really have to hug her, she might blow from the pressure.....</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#6633ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#6633ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:100%;">....<span style="color:#000000;">reading <a href="http://korij.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-which-i-ask-for-help.html">Kori's</a> post today...and the ability to spare ten bucks for a good cause. Please go to her blog, find that little "donate" button, and work your magic. A six-month old little girl will thank you. So will her parents. So will Kori. .</span><span style="color:#333399;">thank you.</span></span></span><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">....knowing that I will live for another week before <strong>both </strong>of my sisters come home to kill me....Stew is gonna kill me for letting the Entire World know that beneath that lady-like exterior she's a <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-i-didnt-blog-about.html">tootin' fool</a>....and Big Sis K will kill me twice because the van that she parked in my driveway is s.t.u.c.k. in Park.....she oh-so-innocently asked me to move the van a few feet every day so that the brakes wouldn't get stuck. I went out to move it. The brakes are stuck. </span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;">hmmmmm....<span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">I smell a rat. Or burning brakes. </span></span><br /><br />.....an AWARD!!! In the midst of thinking up happy things, an email from <a href="http://www.snootyprimadona.blogspot.com/">Snooty Primadona </a>popped up with a fantabulous award!!!<br /><br />Blog Darts Thinker<br /><br />“This award acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write. Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It’s a great way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.” <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZxWC9CQLlI/AAAAAAAAANs/fBrfgwGiV5g/s1600-h/award4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304209069879340626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SZxWC9CQLlI/AAAAAAAAANs/fBrfgwGiV5g/s400/award4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#000000;">..... how freaking cool is that???</span><br /><p><span style="color:#000000;">I get to nominate another 15 bloggers to pass this shiny new award on to. Or more than 15. </span><span style="color:#000000;">Rules, schmules.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">my work adds value to the Web? huh?</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;">....<span style="font-size:100%;">my daughter. She is AWESOME. Having survived years of d.r.am.a., driving lessons, prom nightmares <span style="color:#993399;">( "we" have a small fortune in prom dresses and dried-up corsages in the closet...) </span><span style="color:#000000;">frightening potential boyfriends with my PsychoMom glare and being a mom/dad to her ~ she still likes me. <span style="font-size:85%;">wow. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">We survived!</span></span></span></span></p><p>...all of the wonderful, funny, cussing, letting-it-all-out bloggers. (let's all link arms and sing It's A Small World After All).....you know who you are. Yes, you. <span style="color:#993399;">thank you.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="color:#000000;"> </p><br /><br /><br /></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-13697007100931889792009-02-16T17:30:00.004-05:002009-02-16T18:42:24.863-05:00What I Didn't Blog About....There are a bajillion drafts in my blog.<br /><br />But.<br /><br />I didn't blog about my sister with asthma.<br />Asthma makes her cough.<br />Coughing makes her toot.<br />Tooting makes her sisters laugh like 12 year olds.<br /><br />"yeah, sit next to me on the plane for three days and laugh" she snarled. I didn't think she'd think it was funny if I exposed her un-ladylike behavior.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">it's still funny.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#cc0000;">she'll kill me when the Sisters get back from vacation.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't blog about the sisters on vacation. On an island. Far away. Without me. </span><span style="color:#009900;">boo hoo. Green with envy, I tell ya.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't blog about the first nursing home I worked at. That's where I met my very first cross-dressing transvestite nursing assistant. Sydney was a little exotic looking. I thought she had really big hands. One of Sydney's old high school classmates was hired shortly after I started working there. Classmate commented,"It's a little weird seeing Sydney in a dress." I said, "Why's that?"</span><br />Classmate said, "We were in the same graduating class. She was a boy then."<br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Oh.</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Classmate said "Adam's Apple." </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">(apparently I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box since it had to be pointed out to me that there are some obvious discrepencies between girlstuff and boystuff. Not that anything was ever actually taken out and pointed at me. Except for that Adam's Apple.)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't blog about the mashed potatoes I made on Sunday. Because they are addictive. Tater Crack. </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;">(I will not blog about the Tater Crack disappearing overnight and finding a new home on my butt.)</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Go <a href="http://snootyprimadonacooking.blogspot.com/2008/12/twice-baked-potato-casserole.html">here</a> for the recipe. Don't say I didn't warn you.</span> Thank You <a href="http://snootyprimadona.blogspot.com/">Snooty Primadona</a>. <span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;">Just say <strong>no</strong> if you're on <a href="http://therapyfortena.blogspot.com/2009/02/partys-over-im-on-diet.html">KFMBA</a>. </span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't blog about my fabulous new job because <del>I'm still waiting for the winning lottery ticket to waft down from the heavens </del>I don't HAVE one yet. You'll be the first to know. </span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#333333;">I didn't blog about Mr. Sweetie looking at more freaking surgery. Soon. He's had a hip replacement and a shoulder replacement in the past year. Shoulder Number Two is <del>giving him fits </del>acting up. He's not </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">that<span style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"> old. </span></span></p><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Hospitals suck. Arthritis sucks. </span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Mr. Sweetie promised that I'd get a remote control with the next replacement part <span style="font-size:78%;">heh heh.</span> </span><br /><p><span style="color:#333333;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#333333;">What haven't <strong>you </strong>blogged about this week?</span></p><br /><span style="color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-70382374377665805602009-02-07T08:48:00.004-05:002009-02-07T10:17:38.702-05:00Needy<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SY2cYujpLxI/AAAAAAAAANk/xNCoQ6aHQ_M/s1600-h/lightbulb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300064285113265938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SY2cYujpLxI/AAAAAAAAANk/xNCoQ6aHQ_M/s400/lightbulb.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I always like to think that I was independent. "No thank you", I'd say in reply to passersby inquiring if I needed a hand picking up and moving a Volkswagen Beetle. (it was in <strong>my </strong>parking spot.)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'd climb the shelves to reach the Cheerios in the grocery aisle.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'm needier than I thought.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I have succumbed to that little ditty that's been circulating the Blogosphere ~ "Linda Needs" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Go to Google and put in <strong>your name</strong> and "needs" in the search button.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs to be a part of a loving, committed marriage.</strong></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'll stick with a loving commited partnership TYVM. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda Needs Mental Help.</strong></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The one who denies it the most strongly is always the one in the most need of help. I'm fine. I'm fine, dammit. Fine fine fine.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs a new best friend.</strong></div><br /><div>Do not either. My BFF will do just fine. Even if she's a foot taller, blond, gorgeous and we're polar opposites. It doesn't matter to me that salesladies waiters and men swarm her when she walks through the door <span style="font-size:85%;">trampling me in their eagerness to get there first. </span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs help (more than usual).</strong> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>don't we all.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs to be bright</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div>stick a light bulb in my mouth and plug me in. Bright enough for you?</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda you need a shrink</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div>opinions expressed in this post are not neccesarily those of the author.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>"I would give anything for $40,000 a month,and Linda needs more."</strong></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'm willing to take less.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs to flatten her chest</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div>Gravity is taking care of that.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Linda needs to think real hard and pray.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div>Did that. Thinking gave me a <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2009/02/thinking-is-giving-me-headache.html">headache</a>. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-74412761247527208562009-02-02T13:28:00.003-05:002009-02-02T14:16:03.714-05:00Thinking is Giving Me a HeadachePass the Tylenol. Pass the Xanax if you have one to spare. I'll pay you back. Promise.<br /><br />Once again I'm on the merry-go-round. Should I go back to work? Should I not?<br /><br />I used to once upon a time work at a nursing home. I loved it there. Loved my co-workers <del>or at least some of them </del>loved <del>most of </del>the residents.<br /><br />The problem is with loving who you work with or work for is that they do eventually go away. To Heaven. I really got a little tired of losing friends that way.<br /><br />After one of my best 104-year-old nursing home friends decided that it was high time to clock out and go on a permanent vacation I thought maybe I should get a job elsewhere. Like in a hospital where the patients don't call their room "home." Where they would get better and walk out the door. The hospital was a good place to work, if only because patients DID get better and left the hospital in a more or less vertical position. Hospital politics? Meh. Let's just say five hospital presidents in the five years I worked there.<br /><br />We started a business while I was working at the hospital. Initially the business was meant to be a little project but it kind of took off and turned into a real live j.o.b.<br /><br />I was working two full-time jobs. Work/home became work/work at home/work/work/work.<br /><br />The best thing about working at home? You don't have to get up and get dressed and get in the car.<br /><br />The worst thing about working at home? You don't get to get dressed and get in the car and go to work and come home. Work is there right outside the bedroom door.<br /><br />Then Hospital Politics reared its ugly head and all of the LPNs were let go.<br /><br />"Fine" I said. "Business is good" I said. "I'll just work one freakin job and <del>sit in my jammies all day </del>not worry about juggling work/home/work/home/workhome.<br /><br />fast forward a year....<br /><br />Can you say r-e-c-e-s-s-i-o-n? Business is OK. Kinda. But I'm anal about the bills. Kinda.<br /><br />The nursing home I worked at just opened up two new buildings.<br /><br />I loved it there.<br /><br />I should go and apply for a j.o.b.<br /><br />What if they say NO?<br /><br />What if they say yes?<br /><br />Please come kick me off this fence I'm riding. My butt is getting sore.J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-1771385574112089412009-01-31T14:48:00.010-05:002009-01-31T15:43:56.779-05:00Life On An Island/AKA Man In the Bathtub<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SYSssA4qj8I/AAAAAAAAAMs/6iUoMMoC9G0/s1600-h/Fat_man_in_the_bathtub%5B1%5D.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297548933846437826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SYSssA4qj8I/AAAAAAAAAMs/6iUoMMoC9G0/s400/Fat_man_in_the_bathtub%5B1%5D.png" border="0" /></a> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And you all thought I was a good procrastinator ~ I asked my brother ohhhhh maybe about 10 weeks ago (he says three weeks but who's counting) to give me 10 good reasons to live on an island. <span style="color:#330000;">Al lives on a little <span style="font-size:85%;">teeny</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> tiny</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> island. With approximately 141 other <del>science geeks </del>fascinating people.</span></span> He lives on Roi-Namur in the Marshall Islands, playing with satellites and fishies. That's him in the picture <del>trying to get away to a bigger island with g.i.rl.s. on it </del>playing in what he likes to call his bathtub.<br /><br /><strong>Al's Top 10 Reasons to Live On An Island</strong><br /><br />Linda - Well, it's been 3 weeks; about time to stop procrastinating. I know this Top 10 doesn't apply to just any island; only the one I'm calling home right now.<br /><br />1) Rarely warmer than 88 degrees.<span style="color:#00cccc;"> (note to self: MOVE IN WITH AL)</span><br /><br /><br />2) Rarely colder than 76 degrees. <span style="color:#339999;">(bring a sweater for those chilly 76 degree nights)</span><br /><br /><br />3) No personal vehicles = no traffic, no car maintenance, payments, or insurance. (packin'my flip flops)<br /><br /><br />4) No ^&*!#$%* kids.<span style="color:#cc0000;"> (he really does love his neices and nephews. As long as they don't spit sneeze drool or poop on him.)</span><br /><br /><br />5) Less than 100 people on the island = get along or else. <span style="color:#009900;">(I wanna see a little "or else.")</span><br /><br /><br />6) No Federal income tax, state tax, electric bills, water bills, or grocery bills. <span style="color:#3366ff;">(I'm packing right now. <span style="font-size:85%;">NO BILLS. NO TAXES.*sigh*</span>)</span><br /><br /><br />7) Intermittent dial-up Internet service - requires one to develop and exercise eternal patience. <span style="color:#333399;">(HUH? that might be a little problem.....)</span><br /><br />8) No UPS, FedEX, etc. - US Postal Service is only shipping option. "Instant gratification is only 3 - 4 weeks away."<span style="color:#3366ff;"> </span><span style="color:#3366ff;">(that is not instant. Instant is rightnowrightnowrightnow.)</span><br /><br /><br />8) Lots of fun toys to play with at work (satellite & space debris tracking radars).<span style="color:#ff0000;"> (obviously Al's definition of "toys" is <del>abnormal </del>not the same as mine. My toys would be a catalog, a beach umbrella and some 3-D glasses.</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">And maybe a pool boy.</span><br /><br /><br />9) Every day is casual day - shorts, tee-shirts and sneakers for work. <span style="color:#000099;">(I could deal with that. Fer sure.)</span><br /><br /><br />10) WWII artifacts and history everywhere. (Meh. More boy toys.)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of minuses associated with this kind of living and some people here make a career out of finding/vocalizing all the negatives. I try to take the good with the bad. I'll send some photos soon, like maybe next week, or the next week, or.........whenever. Procrastionation is an art form I've perfected into a science. Love,Al<br /><br />Big Sis K & little sis Stew will be travelling to Roi in a week. One of them may have an exceptionally heavy carry on bag. If you don't hear from me for awhile it's because I'm stuffed in a tote bag with my flip flops. <span style="font-size:78%;">I don't think I can blog from inside a tote bag stuffed under an airplane seat but we'll see....</span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-74648029474482279932009-01-28T20:06:00.003-05:002009-01-28T21:21:01.062-05:00Was Gonna<div>Nothing <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>nothing </strong><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>nothing </strong>could get my mom's head to spinning accompanied by the <span style="color:#ff0000;">required</span><span style="color:#000000;"> flames-shooting-from-the-eyeballs-hair-on-fire spazz attack hissy fit she'd throw when one of her <del>angels </del>childrens would utter those Words of Doom....</span></span></span><br /><br />"I was gonna........."( take out the trash/feed the dog/)<span style="font-size:78%;">you get the picture.....</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><br /><div>Well. I <del>was gonna </del>had <strong>planned</strong> to get a whole buncha bloggy things written so I could just be a <del>lazy </del>well-organized blogger and just hit "Publish" when it was time to post something new...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Uh-huh. I was gonna get the living room painted. Right after the family room got finished (<span style="font-size:78%;">it's been 5-6-12 years since THAT project was started...) </span><span style="font-size:100%;">I <strong>did</strong> get a couple of things done on my long list of Things to Do Immediately ~ like add 28 1/2 sticky buns in equal proportions to my um er buns. My butt is so big and squishy all I need is some raisins and cinnamon to decorate it. </span></div><div></div><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SYEG_KS3OsI/AAAAAAAAAMk/tvppWUGhI-s/s1600-h/buns.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296522318929410754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SYEG_KS3OsI/AAAAAAAAAMk/tvppWUGhI-s/s400/buns.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Yummy.</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Thanks to all my bloggy friends that checked in periodically, it was nice to know that I have <del>checker-inners </del>friends out there!<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>January. A good month to <del>hibernate </del><del>eat cookies </del>start over. Or at the very least get offa my butt and <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>finish a project..</strong></span><span style="font-size:100%;">this month's project was to make real food for dinner. </span></div><div></div><div>I strenuously object to schlepping to the grocery store, stuffing the cart full of the cheapest food possible (<span style="font-size:78%;">I always feel like the cavewoman hunting down and killing a week's worth of dinner) </span><span style="font-size:100%;">taking it home stuffing it in the fridge, taking something <strong>out</strong> of the fridge and cooking it. Blargh.</span></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>"Chicken? Again?" </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Yep. I know, you're gonna sprout feathers. Anybody know how to make chicken taste like um well anything NOT chicken? Mr Sweetie (and millions of men everywhere) will thank you.</div><div> </div><div>BTW the last time Mr. Sweetie was in the kitchen as an active participant was our first date....except for the one time that he made tuna casserole <strong>all by himself. </strong>For some reason the recipe called for flour. He grabbed the first plastic container with a white powdery substance in it and added it to the tuna glop.</div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"> no I wasn't home</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"> <strong>no</strong> the white powdery stuff wasn't <del> coke </del> illegal.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><strong>It was confectioner's sugar.</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div>I'm sure you'd rather hear what we cooked on our first date. Or how we met. you'd rather hear anything but what that tuna casserole tasted like. <span style="font-size:78%;">choke choke "</span><span style="font-size:85%;">it's not THAT bad honey" (gulp)</span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-10239341986835392772008-12-18T23:26:00.004-05:002008-12-19T00:06:39.437-05:00I Heart My SSS<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SUsqEutD98I/AAAAAAAAAMU/r0aJj3G0FXQ/s1600-h/Hobbs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281361248766916546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 89px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SUsqEutD98I/AAAAAAAAAMU/r0aJj3G0FXQ/s400/Hobbs.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Somewhere in Utah....is my very own Secret Santa! ( I'm over there on the right <span style="font-size:85%;">doin' the Happy Gift Dance) <strong>--></strong></span></div><br /><div>I'LL BE BE GOOD I PROMISE. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>I will not eat the yummmmmy Godiva chocolate before I take pictures</strong>.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I will not indulge in a super-size Starbucks Caramel Macchiato with a shot of expresso <span style="font-size:85%;">and flash my gift card at the barrista....</span>.before I take pictures.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I will not fly to Wendy's with my Wendy's gift card (now I'm quivering with anticipation...) </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">and I cross my heart I won't go to Barnes and Noble </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and collapse in their comfy couches with a <span style="color:#000099;"><strong>brand-spankin' new </strong></span><span style="color:#330000;"><strong>book</strong> <span style="font-size:85%;">and that box of Godiva goodness....</span></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;">oh.......how long can I be good......<span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">thank you <span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Secret Santa, you rock! I'll post pictures just as soon as this elf gig is over with ~ that Santa is a slave driver! <span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-size:78%;">thank you </span><span style="font-size:85%;">thank you </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">thank you</span>!</span></span></span></span></div><div></div><div>gonna have to go and do some snooping....who lives in Utah? <span style="font-size:78%;">hmmmmmmmmmmmm........</span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#330000;"></span></strong></div><br /><div></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-37460694881699589132008-12-10T16:59:00.006-05:002009-04-01T11:06:28.372-05:00I Do Not Love Thee Dr. FarranelliThere are things<span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"> from our past that rise up to remind us of where we have come from, <span style="font-size:85%;">small struggles,</span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"> little triumphs, <span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">happy memories......<span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">and some not so happy......</span></span></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">My sincere apologies to the lady whose eardrum I burst by screaming and making </span><span style="color:#339999;">gagging </span><span style="color:#000000;">noises when I was taking her phone order......<span style="font-size:78%;">and saw this on the scratch paper I was using................</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><br /><br />1.75 g O2 occupies 2L @ 1ATM. What is T?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />1ATM = T(K)<br /><br /><br />1.75 g x 1mol O2 / 32gO2 = .0547<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Chemistry homework circa 2001.</span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-44315382513628934442008-12-04T17:26:00.005-05:002008-12-04T18:10:46.030-05:00Tis The Season....and a Winner!There are <span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;">577<span style="font-size:100%;color:#330000;"> unread posts in my reader.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">There is a two day old turkey drying out in the fridge. We were planning on having a NotThanksgiving dinner here because Thanksgiving was at my sister's house many miles away. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">One of the cats has been AWOL for four days. Not good.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">CA wrote a song for me to sing while I scout the neighborhood looking for Sprout the <del>idiot nose-biter</del> wonder kitty. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">come home sprootle<br />come home sprootle<br />come home right now!<br />Sprootle is such a poodle<br />come home and we will give you some food-le<br />poodle poodle poodle come home<br />sprootle oodle whoodle we miss you very very much.</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">CA is not four years old. Sprout is not a poodle. Whatever. She's still my baby.</span><br /><br />I have not finished decorating the room at Ye Olde Tiny Mansion. Not the J'Ollie House, this one is a real live old mansion. They're having a Home for the Holidays Tour starting <span style="font-size:85%;">TOMORROW. </span><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Oh the pressure....</strong></span> The deadline was yesterday. Ye Olde Tiny Mansions' decorating <del>dictator </del>director is cursing me out. She's probably saying "HECK DARN SHOOT" because she's a very nice person. I'll bet she's saying "<span style="color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-he-didnt.html">faux faux faux"</a> in her head........</span><br /><br />I have vodka and <strong>no</strong> cranberry juice. Could be worse.<br /><br />I STILL have to get my SSS giftie girl her goods. <span style="font-size:78%;color:#3333ff;">At least I got a list going on....<span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"> and it WILL be done and in the mail, I PROMISE.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br />OH! AND! BUT! We DO have a winner for the Big <del>Count the Wrinkles </del><a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/give-gift-win-gift-guess-year.html">Guess the Year </a>contest....<br /><br />.........drumroll............<br /><br />didja guess? ..................<br /><br />oh, crap, my ten minutes is up.................<br /><br />..................it's.........................<br /><br /><a href="http://blarneyspot.blogspot.com/">BLARNEY!</a><br /><br />Congrats! As soon as Santa quits cracking the whip I'll sneak your goodies out to the mailbox!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/372/38FDA04E90E2819ACD6A6239D208FF7B.png" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-52971542122675962032008-12-03T05:00:00.008-05:002008-12-03T08:49:34.614-05:00Signature Magic!I'm technically challenged, but this is easy and q.u.i.c.k!<br /><br />I love signatures and personalized blogs. Pictures, bling, all that <del>time-eating </del>fun stuff. Since I'm on blog restriction and only have ten minutes I can share this.<br /><br />Go to <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/">http://www.mylivesignature.com/</a>.<br /><br />Find "Click here to start."<br />Then click on "Create a new signature using our wizard."<br /><br />Clickety-clickety-click. Easy peasy.<br />Pick a font and font size, the color, and the slope of the signature.<br />Then you get to a page that says "Signature is ready" and an option that says "Do you want to use this code." Click on that. There are code options for HTML or BB.<br />Click on "Generate HTML Code"<br />On the next page it'll show you a Signature Preveiw. And the HTML Code.<br />At the bottom of the page you'll see "Click here to read how to add your HTML signature in blogs." Clickety-click click. This is a one time add-on so you have to do it every time you post. There are more instructions so you can have your signature show up every time, but I only have ten minutes and <strong>must </strong>do things repeatedly anyway....<strong><span style="font-size:85%;">OCD can be fun!</span></strong> I'm not going to do the time-consuming stuff but the instructions are on the website so if you can follow them your signature will show up where you want it when you want it. That part looked fairly easy too.<br />The fun part is that you can do phrases or anything you please! I can't wait to see what <a href="http://stuck-in-the-sticks.blogspot.com/">Tiffany</a> writes with her wizard pen!<br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">time's up. back to work, the elves are getting cranky and Santa's giving me the stinkeye.</span></strong> <strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Have a great day!</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/370/A37F8C6FF723AF93805F05C41F01E840.png" /></a>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-38954685144519847462008-12-02T05:16:00.007-05:002008-12-02T14:19:40.701-05:00Merry SITSmas!Ho Ho Ho! Santa Claus is coming to town early! The <span style="font-size:85%;">SITS girls have put on their Santa hats and come up with a great giveaway & shameless promotion of <strong>Busy Mom Businesses!</strong></span><br /><br />Jump over to <a href="http://thesecretisinthesauce.blogspot.com/">SITS</a> for a <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">whole day </span><span style="color:#330000;">of </span><span style="color:#009900;">Christmas giveaways & </span></strong><span style="color:#330000;"><strong>discounts </strong>(ahem. Check out <strong><a href="http://www.jollieprimitives.com/">J'Ollie Primitives'</a> </strong>giveaway and their <span style="font-size:85%;">secret discount code WISHLIST on SITS' blog!)</span></span><br /><br />There are HOURLY Giveaways <span style="font-size:85%;">ALL DAY! </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;">The GRAND PRIZE from the <a href="http://thesecretisinthesauce.blogspot.com/">SITSAS</a> is a <span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">$200.00 Target gift card! <span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;">AND <strong>you </strong>could be a Featured Blogger on their Friday Favorite!</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'll be posting the winner of the <del>count the wrinkles</del> Guess the Year contest tomorrow. <span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;">(I'm late, I stink, sorry)</span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#006600;">Our Christmas wish for you ~<span style="font-size:130%;"> Peace, Love, & Joy</span></span></p><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/STUwbqETIfI/AAAAAAAAALs/U8mMgccrN8U/s1600-h/pug.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275175790241325554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/STUwbqETIfI/AAAAAAAAALs/U8mMgccrN8U/s400/pug.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></p>If you're on the SITS bloggy trail, <a href="http://princessesandpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/feliz-navi-sits.html">Princess & Pickles</a> is in front of me, and <a href="http://metamorphosising.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-sitsmas.html">Anna </a>is up next! (Shaking fist at Mr. Linky)<a href="http://princessesandpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/feliz-navi-sits.html"><br /></a><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#330000;"></span></p></span><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/370/AF6D8D76CC284CA7C1041096B514769A.png" /></a></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-70125455092914139202008-11-26T09:57:00.002-05:002008-11-26T10:19:56.134-05:00Welcome to AnonyBlog!Somebody mentioned on their blog that they weren't all that ecstatic about the mandatory holiday visiting with in-laws, out-laws, friends and foes. That she needed a private blog to vent about it anonymously. <strong>And </strong>that she wouldn't mention anything ~ well ~ that could be traced back to the author.<br /><br />Welcome to AnonyBlog! Got something you want to vent about but you can't because "that person" might read your blog and be offended? Got something to say? Do you just like visiting? Come on over and do a guest post!<br /><br />The holidays are upon us. We're getting busy. I have ten minutes to jump into BlogLand, read a post, comment, heave myself out of the Office Chair of Doom and get back to work. This means I get ten minutes to post something.<br /><br /><del>I need blog fodder, people.</del><br /><br />Time's up.J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-21607801793636335402008-11-24T19:25:00.003-05:002008-11-24T23:05:10.653-05:00Reach Out and Touch Somebody's.....Blog!OK, everybody, join hands and start humming "Reach Out and Touch Somebody's Hand" as we record the MotherLode of MeMes!<br /><br />I would have downloaded a Real Singer from YouTube to do the backup but they were annoying. Sorry Diana Ross, that<strong> does</strong> include you. <span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">talk about being upstaged.....</span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">My fellow nurse </span><span style="color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://therapyfortena.blogspot.com/2008/11/helluva-meme.html">Tenakim</a> </span><span style="color:#000000;">tagged me for this awesome meme.....I'm so excited that I've put down my paintbrush and plunked down in the <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-i-thought-i-had-problems.html">Office Chair of Doom</a>....</span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">once I sit here there is a good chance that I will not be seen or heard from for several hours.....</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;"></span><br />Rule 1. List the first ten people who have commented on one of your blog posts.<br /><br />1.) Mrs. Tee @ <a href="http://thedelightfulhome.blogspot.com/2008/11/yummy-pumpkin-cake-i-mean-bread.html">My Delighful Home</a> ~ I could be her twin except I don't cook, decorate or even attempt to finish a project.....this girl has Martha Stewart afeared and ascared of being <span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">upstaged...</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">2.) Miss Liberty all the way up in Canada @ <a href="http://libertypostgallery.blogspot.com/">Liberty Post</a> ~ Oh.My.Goodness. She's smart, funny, takes <a href="http://libertypostgallery.blogspot.com/2008/11/snowballs.html">photos </a>that will make you drool (<span style="font-size:85%;color:#339999;">ok maybe not THAT photo</span>) </span><span style="color:#000000;">To me she is Blogging Nirvana.</span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"> Go Forth and COMMENT on her awesomeness.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">3.) My sentimental favorite, Carolina Girl @ <a href="http://thirtyawakenings.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ramblings of a 30-Something Year Old Single Girl</a> She commented on a post when all I said was "I got nothin", she gave me my first Butt Kicker Award, and she can ramble like no other. </span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#3333ff;">Maybe if I butter her up enough I can visit her in sunny South Carolina !</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">4.) Carrie @ <a href="http://gremlinwrangler.blogspot.com/">The Gremlin Wrangler</a> Another awesome photographer. Watch her juggle work, wrangle four home-schooled kids, work and life in general. She sends hilarious <a href="http://gremlinwrangler.blogspot.com/2008/11/letters-from-your-friendly-cashier-vol_22.html">letters</a> to her customers that will make you laugh. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">5.) Rhea. The one with the rockin' <span style="color:#ff99ff;">pink </span>cowgirl hat @ <a href="http://texaswordtangle.blogspot.com/">Texas Word Tangle.</a> This girl can make cleaning toilets a little more bearable. Obi Wan-Kenobi just gave her a </span><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><a href="http://texaswordtangle.blogspot.com/2008/11/pink-light-sabers-are-used-to-fight.html">pink</a></span><span style="color:#330000;"> light saber to guide her through the darkness...uh, to match that awesome hat. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">6.) Mama Kat, the attention-craving poodle over @ <a href="http://mamakatslosinit.blogspot.com/">Mama's Losin' It.</a> The Queen of Blogdom, Writer's Workshops, and opener of a can of <a href="http://mamakatslosinit.blogspot.com/2008/11/sling-wearing-ninny-poops.html">whoop-ass</a> on whatever issue might be bothering her a little. Go see her call the ad execs at Motrin ninny-poops. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">7.) and of course the beloved and very-much-missed (</span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;">she's been on a CRUISE, we should be jealous and green but we love her too stinkin' much) *<span style="font-size:100%;">JJBB<span style="color:#333399;">*!</span><span style="color:#330000;"> <a href="http://jilljillbobill.blogspot.com/">JillJillBoBill </a>got me hooked when she posted about stealing <a href="http://lifeofanguyener.blogspot.com/">amybobamey's</a> name...jjbb was all "By this time I am sweating profusely and getting cotton mouth.My worst fear has come true. I am a <a href="http://jilljillbobill.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-loser.html">COPY-CATTER</a>. Only accidentally." What's not to love about jjbb? </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">I wonder if she brought me a souvenier.....</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">8.) Another All-Time Absolute Hands-Down FAVORITE ~ the sparkling <a href="http://snootyprimadona.blogspot.com/">Snooty Primadona!</a> This woman has had several lives in one lifetime. Adventure, drama, tragedy, and joy all wrapped up in one wonderful snooty package. She.Is.Fabulous. AND she <a href="http://snootyprimadonacooking.blogspot.com/">cooks</a> like a diva!</span><br /><br />9.) <a href="http://www.mommycracked.net/">Mama Cracked</a> blogs about life and motherhood, frugal finds and big wishes. It's been far too long since I've visited her blog.<br /><br />10.) <span style="color:#330099;"><em>whew!</em> </span><span style="color:#000000;">Last but but not least is the wonderful <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/">Manic Mariah!</a> She weaves such poetic images....dreamy fantasies of <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/2008/11/lavender-moon-dust.html">lavender and moon dust</a>.....and brings us back to reality with a thump when her bird's butt gets sewn up. If that's not reason enough to visit her, <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/2008/11/shes-fiesty-one.html">Grandma Pearl</a> is.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***What is your favorite post from #3's blog?</span><br /><br />This one.....the <a href="http://thirtyawakenings.blogspot.com/2008/08/date-recap.html">First Date Recap</a>. What can I say, I am a <strong>huge </strong>sucker for romance. *Sigh*<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Has #10 taken any pictures that have moved you?</span><br /><br />Too many to count. <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/2008/11/that-one-is-mine-for-sure.html">This one</a>, <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/2008/11/getting-kinky-at-any-age.html">this one</a>, and <a href="http://manicmariah.blogspot.com/2008/10/it-means-i-can-scalp-ya.html">this one</a>. I could go on.<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Does #6 reply to comments on their blog?</span><br /><br />About as often as I comment on hers, which hasn't been too often lately. When MamaKat has 122 comments every time she posts something, she shouldn't have to return the compliment. She'd never get anything done and would have a terrible case of butt-itis from sitting at the computer all day.<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Which part of Blogland is #2 from?</span><br /><br />Canada! I didn't even have to look that one up! <span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;">yay me!</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***If you could give one piece of advice to #7 what would it be?</span><br /><br />I would advise her to take all of us on a cruise the next time she gets it in her head that she wants to get on a large boat with no Internet connection.<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Have you ever tried something from #9's blog?</span><br /><br />She decorates. I live in a warehouse/zoo. She's frugal. I'm so cheap I don't buy anything that does not ensure survival. She has reveiws for toddler toys. Now<strong> those </strong>could be fun! <strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;">BATHTUB CRAYONS! looooove them!</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Has #1 blogged something that inspired you?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Yummy <a href="http://thedelightfulhome.blogspot.com/2008/11/yummy-pumpkin-cake-i-mean-bread.html">Pumpkin Cake</a>, I mean *bread* <a href="http://thedelightfulhome.blogspot.com/2008/11/tuesday-touring-dream-kitchens.html">A beautiful (clean) kitchen</a>. Gauzy ribbons tied around chairs. I'm so dreamin'. Considering I'm <span style="font-size:78%;">NOT </span><span style="font-size:100%;">cooking, cleaning or doing anything domestically productive....</span></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***How often do you comment on #4's blog?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I've been kinda sadly lacking in the comments to Carrie department lately. </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">now I kinda feel bad. Pardon me while I go comment.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"><span style="font-size:100%;">***Do you wait excitedly for #8 to post?</span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Heck yes! Because we are all <a href="http://snootyprimadona.blogspot.com/2008/11/maturt-mondays-beginning.html">maturt</a> like that. Snooty always has something interesting to say.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***How did #5's blog change your life?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Color. She inspired me to change up the </span><span style="color:#3366ff;">color </span><span style="color:#330000;">on my posts. "Cuz it's <span style="color:#ff99ff;">pretty</span>. Small steps, people, I just learned how to copy & paste last year....</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#993300;">***Do you know any of your 10 bloggers in person?</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Not yet!</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Do any of your 10 know each other?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Only in Blog Land, not IRL.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Out of the 10, which updates more frequently?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">They're all frequent, if not <span style="font-size:85%;">DAILY. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">*One more thing to aspire to*</span></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">***Which of the 10 keep you laughing?</span><br /><br />Snooty, Mariah, Carolina Girl, JJBB, MamaKat, Rhea and Carrie are all conspiring to make their readers happy. Sometimes so dang happy-you-pee-a-little-or-spit-coffee-on-the-keyboard-happy. Either one is a huge compliment.<br /><br /><span style="color:#993300;">***Which of the 10 made you cry (good or bad) tears?</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Those guys up there on the last question. It's a conspiracy, I tell ya. Some folks have written so provocatively about their past you just can't help but get a little weepy. Some posts are so funny that I'm crying and laughing and scaring the cats. Often it's in the same post.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br />Play on, I am <strong>played out!</strong><br /><br /><br />Remember to enter yourself in the <a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/give-gift-win-gift-guess-year.html">contest!</a><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-67932269021471162692008-11-20T21:15:00.014-05:002008-11-23T22:47:08.652-05:00Give A Gift, Win A Gift! Guess the Year!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SSiCo23rBjI/AAAAAAAAALc/u1vGxQXSEJQ/s1600-h/LindaAndFriend.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271607002272564786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SSiCo23rBjI/AAAAAAAAALc/u1vGxQXSEJQ/s400/LindaAndFriend.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />When doing your Christmas cards this year, take just one card and send it to this address.<br />Pass this on! Sorry for the lengthy amount of info below. </div><div><div><br />Send a Christmas card to any service member! A card letting them know that they are appreciated means so much. When you are writing your Christmas cards please send one to the address below: </div><br /><div></div>Holiday Mail for Heroes<br />PO Box 5456<br />Capitol Heights, MD<br />20791-5456<br /><br />Please follow these guidelines to ensure that your card will quickly reach service members.<br />All cards must be postmarked no later than Wednesday, December 10, 2008.<br />Participants are encouraged to limit the number of cards they submit. If you are mailing a large quantity, please bundle the cards and place them in large mailing envelopes. Each card does not need its own envelope or postage.<br />Please ensure that all cards are signed.<br />Please use generic salutations such as “Dear Service Member.” Keep messages short.<br />Please do not include email or home addresses on the cards.<br />Please do not include inserts of any kind, including photos, as these items will be removed during the reviewing process.<br />Phone Cards and Care Packages won't be accepted with the holiday cards. Those wishing to send calling cards or gift cards/certificates should go to <a href="http://www.aafes.com/">http://www.aafes.com/</a>, scroll down to "AAFES Community Connection" and click on "Help Our Troops Call Home." </div><div><br />Go to <a href="http://www.americasupportsyou.com/">http://www.americasupportsyou.com/</a> and click under "Homefront Groups" to find out how to send care packages.<br /><br />Please pass it on! I'll be posting addresses for our overseas soldiers and sailors soon.<br /><br />And now for the CONTEST! <strong>All you have to do is guess the year this picture was taken.</strong><br /><br />Easy peasy, right? <del>you could guess that it had been over a week since I took a shower judging by the state of my hair but we won't go there. </del><br /><br />Post a comment with your guess. Pre-WWII year guesses do not count and will be frowned upon by the blog administrator.<span style="font-size:78%;"> I'm not THAT old.</span><br /><br />Anybody coming <del>remotely close </del>within three years of the correct year will have their name thrown into the hat. You <strong>can</strong> guess the same year that another commenter entered! I might shamelessly copy-dog <a href="http://nikkicrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/11/gorgeous-george-finds-new-home.html">nikkicrumpet</a> and have my boys Frank and Magoo pick the big winner.....on second thought they'd eat up all of the names so fast there wouldn't be a chance of establishing a winner.<br /><br />The winner of the Last Known Picture of Linda With a Waistline will be randomly selected on Sunday November 30th.<br /><br />Fabulous prizes will be dispensed. Chocolate, Christmas goodies, and joy in a box will be sent to the winner. You must have a US address and an email or blog address so I can contact you.<br /><br />Leave me a comment with your <strong>Guess the Year</strong> and don't forget! Send a Christmas card to one of our servicemen and women! Good luck! </div><div> </div><div><strong>ETA: Frizzy at <a href="http://7-7-7heavensent.blogspot.com/2008/11/tis-season-for-sharing-and-caring.html">Heaven's Gift</a> has Care Package addresses that cover many needs, including blankets, adaptive clothing for wounded servicemen, and supportive technology for our troops. If a card doesn't do enough, please check out the links on her blogsite.</strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></del></del>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-87507199135156924352008-11-18T09:58:00.004-05:002008-11-18T10:47:30.088-05:00Technically Challenged<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SSLjg1h3B7I/AAAAAAAAALE/Jt5PbZbIJzA/s1600-h/Hit+Any+Key.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270024667241318322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 96px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SSLjg1h3B7I/AAAAAAAAALE/Jt5PbZbIJzA/s320/Hit+Any+Key.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>What I don't know about computers could fill a book. Or a library.<br /><br />A sixth-grader taught me how to open my own email account and how to get on the internet.<br />Do not ask a sixth-grader how to compose a new email account address.<br />I joined a Working Women's Group at church. One of the first things we were asked for was our email address so we could get updates on the next meeting, church fund-raisers and all of the information that we needed.<br />Lady #1 announced her email address was <a href="mailto:sadiehawkins@centel.blabla.net">sadiehawkins@centel.blabla.net</a>.<br />The next one proudly stated that her address was <a href="mailto:genesimmons@prominentbankinginstitution.com">genesimmons@prominentbankinginstitution.com</a><br />So on and so forth. All of them used a real name and a respectable internet provider address.<br />Me? I had to hang my head in shame and mumble <a href="mailto:puggylover@hotmail.com">puggylover@hotmail.com</a> .<br /><br />I love pugs. But saying "lover" and "hot" in church just seemed w.r.o.n.g.<br /><br />Then I found eBay.<br /><br />There was a group of botanical prints that I wanted. Really really wanted. Somebody else wanted it too.<br />I think the bid was up to fourteen bucks.<br />I typed in 16.00.<br />The computer froze.<br />Typed it in again.<br />The zeros wouldn't show up.<br />I banged on that zero key in a desperate attempt to WIN THAT PRINT.<br />My bid finally showed up.<br />16000.<br />16 <strong>thousand.</strong><br />dollars<br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">oooops.</span></em><br />The Other Bidder lost.</div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-46114191892104382212008-11-14T10:55:00.007-05:002008-11-14T20:10:41.531-05:00Up Or Down?Mr Sweetie is a polite and considerate person.<br /><br />Really.<br /><br />Being polite and considerate he likes to leave the toilet lid in the non-functional but aesthetically pleasing DOWN position.<br /><br />I'm more in favor of the less aesthetically pleasing but fully functional Leave It Up So I Can Make It There Quick position.<br /><br />We have two bathrooms. One is conveniently located two giant steps away from the Office. This is very important when I have guzzled forty-eleven cups of coffee before 8 AM.<br /><br />The other bathroom is about a mile away, further if you've had more than your fair share of caffeine.<br /><br />Sadly the convenient bathroom is out of comission. First there was a minor leak. Then a big flood.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SR4e4UCYvFI/AAAAAAAAAKg/eQ99IGqfeM0/s1600-h/toilet.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268682566870285394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SR4e4UCYvFI/AAAAAAAAAKg/eQ99IGqfeM0/s320/toilet.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Do you know the rules of gravity? That "shit rolls down hill" theory?<br /><br />Water follows the same rules.<br /><br />Duh.<br /><br />My FIL came over yesterday to "fix" the toilet.<br /><br />Mr. Sweetie elected to have some manly assistance because he has issues with my ability to follow directions. And his two bum shoulders do not appreciate lifting a toilet's weight.<br /><br />FIL says "Uh-oh"<br /><br />The subfloor is wet. Because water just <em>had </em>to follow the rules.<br /><br />The throne is now majestically parked in the middle of the bathroom. The subfloor is drying. Slowly.<br /><br />Look on the bright side. Now I can finish the paint job I started ten years ago.<br /><br />Bead board. Wouldn't bead board look GREAT in there? Maybe a new sink too. I never did like that sink.<br /><br />I think some new towels might be in order. Since the good ones are in a heap on the floor after being used to mop up toilet water. Just sayin'.<br /><br />Anyway. In the meantime I'm going to have to:<br />a.) cut down on the coffee (<em>not an option)</em><br /><br /><em></em>b.) run faster <em>(not happening)</em><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268682986827126098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 96px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 87px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SR4fQwf5lVI/AAAAAAAAAKo/HZ4aSUZNiNY/s200/runner.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />vault the dog gate and whiz (<em>heh heh) </em>into the far-away bathroom.<br /><br />Where the lid is aesthetically.stubbornly.irritatingly. DOWN.<br /><br />Please God don't let me pee on the seat.<br /><br />'Cause I'm the Cleaner-Upper and I don't want to go there.J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-22810342384130847682008-11-13T16:04:00.009-05:002008-11-14T09:42:47.982-05:00Fur BabiesI used to love to travel. The Army had a slogan. FTA. Fun Travel Adventure. Once I joined, I found that FTA stood for a different acronym. I'll leave that one to your imagination. If you can't figure it out I'll email it to you. 'Cuz we only say<a href="http://jollieprimitives.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no-he-didnt.html"> Faux</a> on this here blog.<br /><br /><br /><br />One of the places we ended up was Oklahoma. I earned my nursing degree and a divorce decree in Oklahoma. <span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;">*sing that to a country tune, it's a sure hit*</span><br /><a href="http://stuck-in-the-sticks.blogspot.com/"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Hi Tiffany!<br /></span></em></a><br /><span style="color:#000000;">My ex didn't want anything. I sure didn't want anything either. I put up a big old MOVING sale in front of the house and sold everything off. One unintentional thing that went with the furniture was my daughter C.A.'s cat. Either she was hiding in the dresser as it went out the door, or she escaped during the Great Furniture Evacuation.</span><br /><br /><br /><br />We ended up at the local APL hoping to find Sadie. <span style="font-size:78%;">I think maybe she met the Rottweiler next door but I wouldn't say that to a four-year old.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> We found.....Wild Bill. </span><br />Bill looked like a small bear. I thought he would eat up my precious little daughter.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRybWABMcWI/AAAAAAAAAJo/d0xx7g0cwGw/s1600-h/BILL.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268256466381074786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRybWABMcWI/AAAAAAAAAJo/d0xx7g0cwGw/s200/BILL.jpg" border="0" /></a> He didn't. We took him home to Ohio. Clementine came too. (that's Bill on the right with the pearls. W.i.l.d. Bill). <span style="font-size:78%;">(not really, but it could be him)</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#000000;">Years passed. The Zoo got bigger.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> I'm a sucker for beasties...</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Mr. Magoo. Sprout. Rosie & Luna. Frank. Pierre. Ollie. <span style="font-size:78%;color:#663366;">There is a NO MORE PETS rule at the J'Ollie Home. Ollie was a rule breaker. Dang him.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br />WHO brought all of these beasties home? C.A. The one beastie who no longer lives here <span style="font-size:78%;color:#336666;">at least she doesn't live here THIS MINUTE. Things change.</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">WHO called the other night to say "Guess what? I'm fostering two kitties! They are so stinkin' cuuuuute!" *</span><span style="color:#663366;">insert baby talk to stinkin' cute kitties here*</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">We had a breif but meaningful discussion on the definitions of FOSTERING and KEEPING.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;">No.More.Pets.Not.Even.One.Much.Less.Two.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663366;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">The point to this post? Go to the top left corner. There's a purple button there. Click on it. Go on, click it. There. You've just filled .6 bowls of food in an animal shelter. Clicking that button will take you to a web site. You just click on one more button to feed an animal. For every click the web sponsors will pay for .6 bowls of food. The Food Lady thanks you. The shelter animals thank you. </span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#6600cc;">About those two foster kitties.........they will be given as Fabulous Prizes to the first taker.</span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-10074272812103264932008-11-12T23:53:00.009-05:002008-11-17T13:28:37.923-05:00Don't You Hate It When....<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRvAkdAc5AI/AAAAAAAAAJg/krtIQsyCED0/s1600-h/dog+biscuits.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268015921634272258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRvAkdAc5AI/AAAAAAAAAJg/krtIQsyCED0/s320/dog+biscuits.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div>You go to the grocery store and fill up your cart with a month's worth of groceries.<br /><br /></div><div><span style="color:#993399;">well it looks like a month's worth</span><br /><br /></div><div>using your list and your carefully planned monthly menus.<br /><br /></div><div><span style="color:#339999;">as if </span><span style="color:#000000;">yeah right, totally wingin' it on the menu</span></div><br /><br /><div>You *sigh* at the cash register as you surrender your $<span style="color:#009900;">$</span><span style="color:#330000;">$</span><br /><br /></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Take it all home, put it away and feel a sense of accomplishment at once again providing </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">your family with sustenance ~ </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">late at night looking in the fridge a little whiney voice says</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">"there's nothing to eat........"</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">and that little whiney voice is your own?</span><br /><br /></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Yeah, me too.</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">Shelle over at <a href="http://blokthoughtsnmore.blogspot.com/2008/11/green-beans-or-asparagus-dont-you-hate.html">BlokThoughts</a> is hosting "Don't You Hate It When....." Monday November 17th. Go on over and check her out, and remember to VOTE on Tuesday. For the Don't You Hate It When Winner, not the Prez. Been there done that.</span></div></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-24406391199050808352008-11-11T13:25:00.003-05:002008-11-11T13:42:05.621-05:00Oh No He Didn't<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRnRmGU_ibI/AAAAAAAAAIc/soJeRfmUNVQ/s1600-h/OOPS.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267471691650402738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mc27bEw9M7s/SRnRmGU_ibI/AAAAAAAAAIc/soJeRfmUNVQ/s400/OOPS.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Faux (pronounced /ˈfoʊ/, like "foe") is a French word for false or fake. It is often used in English phrases such as faux pearls, faux fur, and faux pas.<br /><br /><br />Except when you go to the hardware store with your Significant Other and he picks up a flyer that advertises a <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#6633ff;">FAUX</span> painting class</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> and says........</span><br /><br />"hey! a F***K painting class! Sounds like something you might want to try, honey!"<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">picture me with a faux smile plastered to my face.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">If I weren't so <del>cranky </del>hormonally challenged it would have been amusing. </span></div><br /><p><span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;">thank goodness the store was full of men who didn't know how to pronounce it either.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#000000;"></p></span><br /><div><br /></div>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-15659940756378154492008-11-10T14:37:00.005-05:002008-11-10T18:37:39.585-05:00Please Excuse Me From Monday....Remember those <del>carefully forged </del>notes we had to take to school to excuse our absences?<br /><br /><br /><br />Dear <del>Teacher </del><del>Followers </del>Friends,<br /><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:Arial;">Please excuse J'Ollie Linda from <del>school </del>posting today. She is not feeling Jolly.</span></em> <em><span style="font-family:georgia;">Her head is spinning like Linda Blair from The Excorsist and she is going batshit crazy if anybody so much as asks for a matching pair of socks. </span><span style="font-family:courier new;">She is only being pretend nice to get through the day without hurting any feelings. </span><span style="font-family:courier new;">And her fonts are misbehaving. </span></em></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:78%;">too bad that won't get me out of work. Darn.</span></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></em></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em></p><br /><br /></span><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346069813736957505.post-16137203696134598152008-11-06T09:59:00.006-05:002008-11-06T16:08:16.293-05:00Stealth MommiesIn an effort to remind our children that they have parents who refuse to grow up, here comes a True Story.<br />My little sister lives about five houses down from me. She has all the cool toys. Nintendo, Wii, the biggest TV on the block....oh. Maybe I should say her hubbie has them. But he shares.<br /><br />My sisters and their kids were visiting at my house one November evening. It was Indian summer. We were all feeling a little Indian summer fever ~ kind of like spring fever when you feel motivated to get outside and enjoy the weather. The kids took advantage of the warm evening by walking all.the.way. to Stew's house to watch a movie and play with the cool toys.<br /><br />Because we're mature and parent-like we thought up a <del>totally lame </del>fun prank. The kids said they were going to watch Halloween or Friday the 13th. Some movie where there's always a boogeyman sneaking up on the unsuspecting <del>fool </del>kid innocently minding their own business.<br /><br /><br /><br />We were going to scare the beejeezus out of our innocent childrens.<br /><br /><br /><br />I think it was Big Sis K. "Let's put nylons over our heads and act like we're burglars. We can sneak up to Stew's house and peek in the window and make burglar noises!"<br /><br /><br /><br />None of us really knew any good burglar noises but we had fun cutting up my stockings and admiring ourselves in the mirror with them pulled over our faces. We thought we looked pretty darn scary.<br /><br /><br /><br />Stew tends to snort when she laughs. BS K. goes "BWAAAHAAHAAHAAAHAAA" and I sound like I'm choking and gasping for my last breath.Try holding in that kind of noise when the sisters are acting the fool. It ain't easy.<br />We oh-so-quietly sneaked around the back of Stew's house and ducked under the window. Quick peek ~ innocent children are strewn about the couches, the Scary Movie Music is blasting.....<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">the plan was to s-l-o-w-l-y rise up and scare the crap out of the kids with our masks and our frightening noises when they saw us at the window.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br />"BWAAAHAAHAAAHAAAHA.snort.gasp.choke" <span style="font-size:78%;">We lost it. We were too busy laughing to be frightening. Dang.<br /></span><br />"Oh. Hi, Mom" <span style="font-size:85%;">said a kid.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">and they alllll turned back to the TV like their moms were acting normal.......</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">which maybe we were.</span>J'Ollie Primitiveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06744123704292534249noreply@blogger.com24