Kitty Glitter - A Documentary

Challenge: iPhone State of the Union ... Buddiezzzz

2012-01-24T20:02:00.000-08:00

Let's see how hard it will be to blog from my phone? Here goes. If it turns out ferkocteh,my bad. I'll fix it later.

So our President Barack Henry Obama is giving this ceremonial speech thing and it's pretty good. Some fact checking wouldn't hurt but this is a speech, maybe you could call it a performance if you were way cynical. Sooo let's just take it at face value for now.

I am not sure why certain people are in the audience other than friends in high places. The Prez is giving a shout out to the same deserving but cliche groups. Vets. Middle class. Bums. Unicorn lovers. Jellyfish. The last couple I just made up but you and I are still getting off on the same floor...

My cat doesn't care about any of it. She just wants me to let her under the blanket. Hold on.

The orange guy behind him looks like he has gas. I have also missed the first hour or so. Whatever. It's like being late to a movie.

Now we have two guys doing VO a shot of suits giving hugs. Hey voice dudes, I just watched. It isn't necessary to describe it.

This one guy has a crush on Mitch Daniels. Not kidding! Are you listening to this? In case you didn't know, Mitch Daniels sold a state toll roads to a consortium overseas. A road the residents and travelers through the state already paid for. Not cool commentator guy. That governor showed blatant disregard for the people he was hired to serve. Abuse of power for profit. Full stop.

This time I have a point. A conclusion anyway. Still not really a point. Maybe next time.

First, blogging from my phone is easier than I thought as long as I keep it simple.

Also, memo to fans of Mitch Daniels: I do not understand how you can overlook his actions in that specific situation. It's a deal breaker. He is only a "very well respected" governor among dense people. You and a lot of people are dense that is the truth. It isn't an insult. You just are. But I still love you. =^_^=

Also, our lawmakers and our selves need to get serious about sharing ideas. We can fix this shit if we just take things one issue at a time and make flexible decisions that are fair and be willing to try another route if the one we initially pick is a fail. Hey, it happens.

Man I want to slap that guy with a glove and stomp away in a huff. Mitch the Bitch in on now. Gag.

As I was saying, Google your problems. Find out who fixes it (federal, state, city, etc.) Then send emails, make calls, tweet them, whatever. But reach out. Let them know your issue. Offer solutions. Be reasonable. Be educated. Be POLITE. That's why we picked them and it's why we pay them.

Off to have noms, chill, get sleep, have happy dreams. Peace and good vibes to you all. Even the dense ones who are nice people aside from that.

There's a reason they call 'em private parts.

2012-01-11T21:43:00.000-08:00

O hai Boycotting Girl Scout people,

I saw a video on Jezebel.

Is this a case of bigoted parents having bigoted kids? Regardless of how she arrived at her fear of penises and her obsession with dressing how she wants in a group, she'll make a hell of an attorney someday if she can find an all-bigot-females-born-with-vaginas-only country where she can practice law.

And you know what, Honest Discriminating Girl Scout (that's a factual term, she's being honest as fuck about her feelings) I ate a fat ton of Girl Scout cookies the past couple weeks and Imma finish my box of Thin Mints tonight. Maybe I'll throw down s'more cash on Thanks A Lots tomorrow. And maybe I'll do it for the sole reason that GSUSA allowed a transgender (meaning no longer male but FEMALE) GIRL into the group.

Here's the deal, Uptight Robot Child, USE YOUR BRAIN. If an evil, plotting, ill-intentioned boy is trying to get into GSUSA because he thinks he will score some poon, have a little more faith in the adults around you to catch on to his game before he gets his slimy man parts anywhere near your pristine white cotton briefs.

Do your parents sleep in separate beds in your creepily perfect Reese Witherspoon in "Election" kind of home and have they raised you to be scalded-dog scared of anything that isn't All American Cream Cheese Sunday School White Linen Napkins?

Am I advocating child molestation here? Again, if ya use yer inferior lady brains, you'll see I am clearly NOT. (You said it yourself, girls need all-girl places to feel like it is 'easier' to do thinks like fart or talk about how frustrating it is when you only get an A and not an A+ on your calculus test.) (Quickie question tho. If it is easier to talk about badges and swimming with ONLY GIRLS BORN WITH VAGINAS then why is it hard to talk about these things in mixed company? IF it is indeed harder to do this, then is that a boy's fault or is it yours?)

Check this out because it is an absolute truth. You do not and can not know everyone's situation. I don't know your situation other than what you shared in your video and I'm asking you questions about it although I realize it's unlikely, in the massive soup of the interwebs, that you'll ever see them or even answer.

The fact remains. It's impossible to suddenly know a person's intentions because you have one piece of information about their body. IMPOSSIBLE. Trust me. It is not possible. Can we agree that this is an honest fact?

How would you feel if you had all your same emotions, all your same spirit, ethics, your entire personality, your whole life was all exactly the same but you had a boy's body?

Would YOU want to live in a world that respected you, treated you fairly and allowed you the same freedoms everyone else enjoys?

OR

Would you want to be the one single solitary You-With-A-Penis in a world filled with other Yous-With-A-Vagina who treated you like a rapist just because you had a personal physical issue with which you were dealing?

If we're being HONEST here (you clearly conveyed how important honesty is to you) then I feel safe in saying you would indeed pick the fair treatment and respect. So if you'd pick it for yourself, why would you deny it for someone else? That doesn't sound like a very GSUSA thing to do, does it?

Makes me think you're not the stellar representative of GSUSA you set out to be. Which would mean people should actually boycott YOU and NOT delicious GSUSA cookies. And on that note, your argument is invalid.

Ohkay, bye now. I'm off to share my Girl Scout cookies with big, bad, scary different people.

Remember those old rechargeable batteries?

2011-11-08T22:50:00.000-08:00

I don't remember when it was. Sometime in the 80s probably, but Energizer or someone made rechargeable batteries. (I have misspelled rechargeable twice now, btw.)

And I don't know if this is science or if I just half-listened to my dad explain how they work because he tried to give a lesson in boring shit to his already disinterested tween daughter right in the middle of my Barbie time. Silly parents. (Love you, dad!) But didn't you have to sometimes run them completely down before recharging them or else they wouldn't "refill" properly? Or something like that... Put them in the freezer? Zap them with a taser? Am I just making this completely up or were they really like that? Remember there was a plastic recharger/holder that was too hideous for the kitchen wall but you knew if you put it in the garage, the Y chromosome holders in the house would lose them within a week. If you upgraded to the deluxe model, you got a multi-size holder/recharger so you could put the flashlight batteries and the remote batters in the same fugly case.

In a weird, hazy way, those batteries remind me of the plants you srsly can't kill. Not a cactus. The vine-y ones with the green and white speckled leaves that ALL of your aunties have in their houses (you know they do, don't lie). Those goofy plants get all droopy and sad; you pretend not to notice for a day or so. Finally you break down and water it. A couple hours later, the near-dead plant looks perky and green. Why do they do that? HOW do they do that? Is it a testament to the plant's physiology (do plants have that or is it some other science word) or is there a happy accident resulting from my bad slacker plant-keeping habits?

For real, I don't mean to neglect my plants but the ones I have at home are hanging plants and it's hard for me to reach them. Mr. Buffie will water them for me but you try to catch him when he's not busy. Human tornado. It's nuts.

Uhhh. Oh, a point. Yes. That.

So maybe insomnia is like those batteries or that plant and I have to just get a gnarly case of it on a regular basis so I can properly recharge my physical and mental batteries or am I only avoiding root rot because my dizzy cow of an owner (that would be me) forgets to give me water at least once a month?

Or perhaps the universe is really pissed at me for tuning out my dad and unintentionally abusing my plant.

Like kitty litter through the scoopy thing, these are the convos of my life

2011-10-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

What do 'normal' conversations sound like anyway? I think I've had them before but they never seem 'normal' to me. They are strained, sometimes insincere or superficial. Usually I'm having what I consider to be a normal conversation with the more traditionally conservative-ish (redundant term?) friends of my highly educated, world-traveled, faithful-church-attending, Democrat, youthful-senior-citizen in-laws.

Not a bad thing but awkward chats with family acquaintances never go much beyond weather or that lovely rendition of (insert name of dreary boring well-known hymn) that Missus Ethel Mae Blickerman played with her double-harp last week during a fundraiser luncheon to send the Bridge club on their annual Branson bus tour.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ~_~

According to the Chinese calendar, rabbits are the luckiest of all signs. I happen to have been born in the Year of the Hare. I'm also left-handed which some believe is a lucky charm. Plus I'm an only child. We're literally born into good fortune. Siblings are cool and all. More than once I have wished for a sister or a gay brother. Buuut we 'onlys' just tend to be super lucky. Well, we arrre. =P

Piece from "Garden of Earthly Delights"
By Hieronymus Bosch.

Talks with Mr. Buffie often serve as reminders of my luck. He hates harps too! Like me, he thinks they look scary... Medieval torture devices used by the henchmen of evil emperors that coincidentally could serve as a musical instrument. Never trust a harp. They're sneaky.

He does frequently wonder about the weather. *eye roll* But it's only because he's all uppity about driving Sir Hiss in the rain. No one is perfect.

This evening Mr. Buffie was in the laundry room taking clothes out of the dryer when he found a band aid stuck to one of his fake ShamWows. He picked it up and said something to the effect of 'oh this is very interesting and I would like to know more please, what are the origins of this band aid, is it name brand, who lost it, are they looking for it' instead of how the rest of the world reacts when they find a used band aid in the clean laundry. "URH MAH GAAAAAHHHHDDDD that's one degree away from finding a severed fingerrrr! urmahgahhhdddduh SICK! Sick sick sick! Throw it in the nearest object that will function as a temporary biohazard receptacle which can be burned in the fireplace! Stat!"

This is the same Mr. Buffie who insisted I smell the bottom of his shoe a few days ago and pushed it toward my face so the discovery of a mysterious laundry band aid is an archaeological score in his mind. For the sake of fairness, I begrudgingly admit shared guilt when it comes to fixations on things other people find completely unappealing. For example...

Banged-up beloved pink

Tweezerman classic slant tip tweezers.

(Smudges are where the
Tweezerman lightning bolt used to be.)

"Look at my tweezers, my tweezers are amazing! But NOT as amazing as the little removable plastic tip. By some PsOV, that tiny nubbin is worthless. To me, it is every bit as important as the expensive tweezers. And I have to own 7 pairs of ridiculous $20 tweezers because I need a set in every room you know. Tweezers are the Buffinese version of a Swiss Army knife. They're a garden tool, a bookmark, a price-tag remover, a kitchen utensil (after thorough sanitizing of course) and obviously an implement of makeup application and personal grooming (also after thorough sanitizing... of course)." ~ Buffie circa two hours ago.

Tweezer Nubbin

Hey, it's justified. The piece of plastic protects those tweezers and kind of holds my life together. Is this a haiku? (O hai ADHDeee Weee!)

While we are almost always civil to each other considering we've been married a bazillion years (in 21st Century terms, we've been married a bazillion years, I calculated) we still have our uhm... moments.

Mr. Buffie brought home dinner tonight because I didn't get home until almost 8 and I also brought work home and I still need to put dishes away from last night sooo... yeah. It was either bring home hot food or enjoy your Triscuits and squeez cheez.

Looks gnarly but I promise it's delicious.

He opted for actual cooked meat and vegetables, imagine that. As a favor for me, he also brought this weird concoction I like from Pancho's. It's seasoned steak fries similar to the kind you'd get at a 54th Street restaurant type place. Then they're covered half-and-half with sour cream on one side and guacamole (seasoned avocado puree style) on the other. Shredded cheese is melted on top along with a couple fistfuls of chopped fajita steak. A funky Mexican food in Kansas City version of poutine. They're SUPER good, cost about $8 and I can eat on them for a good 2 or 3 meals because the box is giant and I have no qualms about reheating them in the oven even though the guacamole and sour cream strangely absorb into the fries the next day.

Anyway, the mister got a meal from Culver's and I spy shrimp on his plate. Y'all know how I feel about shrimp. They're my forbidden fruit. *heart flutter*

So I ask him very sweetly if I can has a scrimp. He just looks at me while he's putting 'buttery spread' on a sweet roll and doesn't say a word. Now I'm all offended and tell him I CANNOT BELIEVE he isn't sharing at least one frickin' shrimp with me.

Buffie: "It's ONE shrimp! You have at least 9 or 10 there. Hook a sister up. What is WRONG with you? I asked nicely. Why won't you share just one shr..."

Mr. Buffie: "Because this is fishhh."

Buffie: "You should have ordered the shrimp."

Knowing That We Know Nothing

2011-08-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

I never met Mr. Buffie's grandma, but he remembers her well and talks about her fondly. So it is almost like I know her. She came from Paris, TN, was a fantastic cook and had unflappable faith in her beliefs.

Mr. Buffie says she was never afraid of death, because she knew she would go to Heaven. Honestly, that sounds nice, comforting.

The part of me who believes unicorns might exist likes to think that when I die, my 'soul' becomes a magical butterfly and floats up to a puffy pink infinite cloud made of glitter and cotton candy.

Then the logical part of me comes along with a giant flyswatter...

Someone special died unexpectedly yesterday and I have a feeling she was a lot like Mr. Buffie's grandma. She and I never talked about her faith but I knew she had it.

Today was surreal and everyone is understandably brokenhearted. No one bothered to ask 'how are you' like they usually do because we all knew the answer. We also know she would not want us to mope around like this for long because she would prefer we celebrate life and we will... after we compose ourselves.

Last night was sleepless. I kept thinking about how (if) I could cope if the same thing happened to my parents or Mr. Buffie. There hasn't been a lot of loss in my life. Not the punch-you-in-the-chest-never-saw-it-coming kind of loss. I'm completely happy with specific delusions I carry, among them that certain people (and cats) are immortal. Please don't bother trying to set me straight on that because I am not interested in your real world truth and facts on this particular matter.

However, having never had to recover from profoundly devastating loss, I have no idea how other people do it. I guess I assume they mourn forever, that the pain is always present and anything positive, joyful or fun that happens afterwards doesn't feel as good.

But I don't know. How would you even ask such a question without sounding like the world's most insensitive bastard? "Hi there, when your most favorite person in the world died, how did you get on with life?" See what I mean?

I wish I could have known Mr. Buffie's grandma. She would have answered my awkward questions about death and the seemingly impossible idea of being comfortable with it. And she probably would have chirped in my lobes for being atheist. Several times in my life I have sincerely attempted to make myself believe. I now know it will never happen. Some pills you simply can't swallow and my life is right without religion.

A point? I don't really have one other than if you were thinking of doing something, do it now. I can't tell you anything about faith or even a lack of it. I can just tell you that you never know what will happen next.

A Cure for the Common Fattie

2011-07-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

As we know, the bigger you are, the more universally hated you are.

I mean, even Carrie Fisher said the world is a hostile place for a fat person. She is not wrong.

Yesterday I visited the endocrinologist for a follow up on my issues. Got CAT scan results. The good news - nothing is wrong. The bad news - nothing is wrong. Square one again. Still have the pain and the hyperhidrosis but they dunno what's causing it.

This endocrinologist came highly recommended by several people, including my regular doc and my psychiatrist. So I was expecting the best possible treatment. First visit went alright. He tried to push WLS on me, gastric bypass. Told him no go. He backed off.

Yesterday he brought it up again, as if he had forgotten I said absolutely not. And when I reminded him that I wasn't going to do it, he shamed me by making a condescending remark that he thought it was "interesting" that my hyperhidrosis wasn't affected by my weight and sent me on my way. He even had the gall to refer me back to the Revolving Door Dermatology Warehouse.

Anyway, I left in a huff. Feeling like a substandard human because I am not small enough to be treated like everyone else. Not my proudest moment. I'm angry at myself for letting someone get to me and for allowing myself to feel that way.

Seems like I am seeing so much fat hate lately. More than usual. I'm probably still miffed over the couple who openly made fun of me last week. It's all weighing in my mind. (Weighing... puns... I'm so clever. *snort*)

Instead of whining about it, I've decided to just buy in. If you can't beat them, join them, right? That's what they always say and they always know what they're talking about.

Hate fat people? Of course you do. Everyone does. So let's eliminate them. These are the most popular techniques currently in use by the diet industry, Cosmopolitan Magazine and millions of commenters all over the internet.

First of all, insults make fat people thin. I haven't seen this work with my own eyes. But I know it has to be effective because it is socially acceptable to belittle and shame big people. Remember the Bowflex guy who "gave all his FAT clothes to his FAT friends?" That was a national ad campaign. So that tells you right there that the entire nation can't think of anything worse than being fat.

Bullying, that's another one that really hits home. Ohkay, this one didn't work on me unfortunately but it probably is helpful to the ones who actually survive it. I know, I survived it too. But I'm a bad example because ... ... Mmmm... Hrmmm. Well, I guess it must work because of science or something.

Alright, now we have the obvious one, diet ads! Almost every single commercial break has at least one, sometimes several. There are pills and gadgets and garments and meal plans and you can even hire someone to remind you on a regular basis what a foul, disgusting pig you are. I think her name is Jillian Michaels.

Of course, you can't watch anything on E! or read anything in mainstream lifestyle magazines without having attention called to the fact that you're a horrible warty fat toad. All the fashion trends are focused on looking as small as possible. Smaller is better. Always. Amazing summer beach bodies perpetually belong to the stars who have hired a trainer, nutritionist, plastic surgeon and chef then spent all their extra time in their private home gyms to shed an extra five pounds. And if THEY can do it with their busy schedules and tight budgets, then we slovenly blobs have no excuse.

The next time you are out and about and someone remarks on your size, you immediately apologize! Then you thank them for helping you keep feelings of shame and embarrassment right under the surface.

Also, go to the nearest bathroom and barf up everything you've eaten for the past three weeks then sell everything you own and hire that trainer lady to scream about all your physical misgivings in your face while you sob on a treadmill.

Fuck.

All.

That.

Shit.

You know what needs a cure? We do. All of us. I have so many friends who put themselves down constantly. Stop it. Please. You're not accomplishing anything positive when you do that.

You read the magazines and think that's how you /should/ look when you roll out of bed.

Let me tell you something. For 10 years I worked full-time as a makeup artist. I've seen professional models at 5 a.m. They have zits, bags under their eyes, scars, crusty cuticles, weird veins, hair growing in strange places. EVERYONE DOES.

But after a couple hours of hair and makeup, soft lighting, professional photography and a gifted graphic artist retouching the picture, they look like what you see in the magazines. IT IS ALL A FACADE. It isn't meant to be lived day in and day out. It's art. It's someone's vision. Flawlessness does not exist in anyone.

What you see as flaws in yourself aren't flaws at all. They're part of being human. Stop being so hard on yourself. I've got to do the same thing. I have completely unrealistic expectations of who I'm supposed to be and it causes me nothing but endless disappointment.

Fact: Fat people are big. They're not dumb, they're not lazy, they don't stink. (Yes, there ARE people in this world who are ignorant, unmotivated and smelly. Those people come in all shapes and sizes. Fat has nothing to do with it.)

Fiction: Hating and humiliating fat people will make the world a better place.

I don't know how to make this any clearer. But the body shame has GOT TO STOP and I'm starting with me.

Maybe it's just a bad mood?

2011-07-21T21:02:00.000-07:00

The idea of never leaving my house again appeals to me more and more every day.

I used to think it was because of how I was treated in high school that made me hate people. That has something to do with it, but I am starting to realize I hate people because they're awful.

By people, I am talking specifically about mean, stupid people. And usually mean people are stupid and stupid people are mean.

Does the stupid make them mean? Not sure. I've encountered below-average intelligence people who were delightful. Perhaps the ones who are stupid by choice... those are the mean ones.

Yesterday, with some help from a co-worker, I finally busted a story tipster in a massive lie. Biggest lie I've ever heard in the newsroom. And it was a lie told about something tragic that affected thousands of people. That makes it even worse. I've had a gut feeling since May that the story wasn't true and to have two sources this week verify that I was right felt quite nice. Renewed my trust in my own instincts.

Today someone called the magazine all pissed off because we keep addresses on file. Dead serious. He didn't think we should do that. Never thought I would have to explain to someone that we need to keep their address so we can mail the magazine to which they've subscribed. Is there some magic delivery service I don't know about? Psychic Unicorn Express will bring your mail to you without having to know your address?

When my in-laws called this afternoon with an invitation to sushi, that temporarily lifted my foul misanthropic fog. They suggested my favorite place, too. Bonus!

Tonight they were running 10 minutes late but I parked and went inside anyway. Not long after I sat down, a couple was seated at the booth across from me. And they didn't even try to disguise their staring. There are people in this world, in my town even, who look more unusual than I do. So why the hell am I always getting the up-down eyes? The staring was followed by whispering, more staring, more whispering then laughter. I pretended not to notice, keeping busy with my phone. Telling myself they're talking about something else, not me. Stop being paranoid. I busied myself texting Mr. Buffie and fiddling with chop sticks.

Once my in-laws arrived, the couple then broke out in hand gestures, confirming my suspicion. The woman was trying to determine how big my chest was in relation to her own frame, looking at me and adjusting the length of her arms held out in front of her. I continued to pretend I didn't notice. My father-in-law was telling me about genetically engineered soybean crops... I think. At that point, I was lost in my own head, angry, frustrated, desperate to escape.

It's funny because earlier today I read an article about restaurants who adopt a no-kids policy. It reminded me of a few specific situations where I was dining out and was verbally harassed by groups of teens. It has even happened with older people but it's usually teens. Why are teenagers so hateful? Was the teenage Buffie that hateful? I had opinions about people at that age, but I don't ever recall making unprovoked statements to strangers in public. Never had the urge to do anything horrible to someone unprovoked, I don't think.

In a way it was cosmic to read that story then relive something I've experienced so many times before. Those experiences are always the first thoughts that flash through my mind at the mention of going out in public.

I was probably born predisposed to have anxiety or agoraphobia. My mum tells me I was about 3 years old when she noticed I had an abnormal aversion to strangers. Bullying and fat-hate exacerbated it and here we are.

People can't be changed. You can't turn a mean stranger into a nice one anymore than a mean stranger can turn me into a thin person by insulting me.

But what do I do? Continue to endure it? That doesn't seem reasonable. I don't know what to do.

All I know is the more I'm exposed to the general public, the more I only want to be around my family and friends or go only to certain places where I haven't had a scary experience.

Mr. Buffie, bless him, he has spoken up for me before and I truly appreciate it. It was probably nine years ago that we were having lunch at Braum's when a table full of late-teen/early-twenties boys were having an obvious laugh about my body. At some point, they were even talking (yelling) directly to me. As per my M.O., I ignored them. Mr. Buffie walked over to their table and hit it with his fist. That got their attention. Then he politely told them to stop. Know what happened? They threatened him. You know, the typical "how DARE you NOT sit there and tolerate my bullshit" bully attitude. Ultimately they did leave without incident but for a moment, I was sure we were going to be physically assaulted. So in addition to a couple other failed attempts to speak up, speaking up isn't looking like a practical solution either.

Sometimes I wonder if this rules my life. I've blogged about it... a lot. But it's because it affects me... a lot. Maybe saying it rules me is too extreme. However I can't deny that it does cause problems for me AND Mr. Buffie on a much-too-regular basis.

I want to be adventurous and spontaneous and experience new things but my anxiety swallows me whole.

Therapy helps. When I have slacked off on treatment, the anxiety becomes remarkably worse. So I know continuing to see the psychiatrist is the right thing to do.

I'm just not sure it's enough. I have this goal, maybe a dream, that in the future I'll be fearless. The problem with my dream is that I forget to include hate in my vision.

Thankfully, I'm happy in my own skin. Life is good... better than good. Life is great! My family is incredible. My friends are the best examples of humanity ever in history, no exaggeration. I have kitty cats. Even my job would be absolutely perfect if it weren't for dealing with strangers. Then there are the material things, so many wonderful things. I'm thankful for all of my possessions although they don't matter one fraction as much as family, friends and kitties. Basically my needs are not only met but exceeded. I live a fortunate life and I know it.

Hrmph. It's a puzzle I can't solve on my own.

Mostly, I just don't want to hate the world anymore.

Don't know what you've got til it's gum.

2011-06-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

Does this happen to you?

You're chewing some gum and your friend has a spaz as soon as they notice. "Is that GUM? Where did you get it?! Do you have more?!!?!?"

They've just been handed the opportunity to achieve their lifetime goal, which is to chew gum and you're possibly holding their keys to a dream come true.

It's only gum, you both know this. Anywhere that sells anything sells gum. Hardly an endangered food species, kids. You can buy it at the auto parts store! Nothing has less to do with food than the auto parts store. What does that tell you about gum?

Hold on though, it gets complicated... If you /do not/ have gum, you friend will practically start sobbing like you ran over their family pet. That level of disappointment is irrational, don't you think?

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

2011-06-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

Shit has been weird lately. More weird that usual. Hard to believe, right?

Several weeks ago, I decided I was fed up with having hyperhidrosis, so I went to the Revolving Door Dermatology Warehouse (where you never see the same doctor twice!) and the Flavor of the Week Nurse Practitioner referred me to another dermatologist in Olathe. She all but swore on her life that Dr. Olathe was the answer to my problem. If you don't know your greater Kansas City area geography, Olathe is an hour from almost everywhere on the Missouri side.

Of course I request an ass-crack-of-dawn appointment because the more work I miss the more it will pile up on my already buried desk. And we all know how I LOVE to get up ridiculously early and fight obnoxious commuter traffic.

Once I'm in front of Olathe's Super Dermatologist, I tell her to please perform the treatment that Revolving Door NP claimed Dr. Olathe did. Uhhh... nope. Never. Has never treated hyper-hell-drosis in the fashion that RDNP assured me she did. At first I was peeved with the seeing of different people at every appointment and the getting up stupid early and the driving an hour away from home to the tune of almost $4 a gallon for gas. But now I'm fully pissed off and I have a strong suspicion that RDNP referred me to Dr. Olathe just to get me out of her office. Bitch.

That week got even more mega fun when I realized RDNP didn't give me a refill on the pill I take for my breakouts (and it is coincidentally a pill Nice Fat Lady Doctor prescribed to help my circulation for the steroid-induced vein damage from several years ago when my body decided to attack itself and produce awful itchy hives almost every day for two solid years... but when Nice Fat Lady Doctor moved to a different practice group, I decided to just get it from the dermatologists because they were prescribing the same thing even though it was for two different reasons). TMI? I thought so. Moving along...

Call her office. Request the drug. Another nurse calls me back (ha, figures) and said RDNP won't refill until I get blood tests. So I have to go to a lab (thankfully there was one within my home zip code) and get poked. That was the day they took seven vials of my blood. Waited a week, got test results. Called RDNP because, of course, she isn't going to call me. She says there's something wrong with my endocrine system. No pills until I see endocrinologist. I'm assuming since I've already chased wild geese in Olathe, maybe she'll send me to Wichita this time. Perhaps Topeka. Hell, what about Denver? Guess I caught her in a good mood because the endocrinologist is in Overland Park. Bad part? Can't see me until almost a month later.

Here's the deal with the pills... When you're on them, you don't even notice they do anything. But once you quit them, gird your loins. Pain. Unbelievable pain. Pain like I have never known before. Whatever empathy or sympathy I had for people with chronic pain, it's a million times more now. Holy shitballs, worst agony of my life.

After a week or so, I couldn't take it. Called RDNP and literally begged her to give it back. With a crap-ton of attitude and reluctance, she called in a refill. FOR HALF THE STRENGTH. Boo. What a whore.

Screw her though, I'm taking two pills instead of one and I'm never going back to the Revolving Door Dermatology Warehouse anyway so I'll get my fix from the new Not-So-Fat-But-Still-Nice-Lady-Doctor I started seeing a couple years ago. In your face, RDNP!

The health weirdness has persisted though and I am concerned. Sometimes I'm stay-awake-all-night-and-fret worried and other times I think it's probably minor and this will be one very expensive quest to find nothing of significance.

Did I ever tell you about the time I worked for someone who had chronic pain? She drove me batshit. In the moment, I was certain she hated me because no matter what I did, it was always wrong or not good enough. She probably could have conducted herself better but I probably could have tried harder to understand why she was always channeling Satan.

When the pain started, everything was on my nerves. There's a particularly noisy neighbor on our block and they picked an amazingly bad week to turn it up to 11. One night I had taken some Vicodin and just wanted to try and get some decent sleep. Pain meds help but the only time during this ordeal when I haven't been miserable is when I'm sleeping. It was between 10:30 and 11 p.m. on a Monday or a Tuesday night. At this point, school is out for summer so all the teen fuckheads are running loose in the streets later than usual.

Noisy neighbor house is Teen Fuckhead HQ. I think just one or two teens actually live there but at any given moment, there are at least five cars in the driveway and on the street. A frequent visitor has a TRAIN HORN and likes to show it off. Annoying. Obviously compensating for lack of girth, if you know what I mean. But if he feels the need to show it off in broad daylight, I can tolerate it occasionally. It's when he uses it in the middle of the night that truly makes my blood boil. Between him and the boom cars, it's a wonder anyone in this neighborhood sleeps through the night.

So yeah, I'm hopped up on meds and trying to escape the horror show that my body has become... on the verge of drifting off then HONK! A few seconds later HONK HONK! Another couple of seconds HONK HONK HONKHONKHONKHOOONNNKKK!!!

Are you fucking serious? I look out the window and of course there is a teen fuckhead convention across the street and Honky VonHonkerstein is parked in front of a fire hydrant and attempting to summon someone inside Fuckhead HQ with her horn. Aren't the little shits born with mobile phones these days? Couldn't she text whoever was inside??? Of course not! I mean, it's late in the evening and people are trying to sleep so the horn is the obvious choice. Duh!

My rage took on telepathic powers because Mr. Buffie was out the front door before I could even get to the stairs. Rude Teen With Horn got a piece of his mind. I fully expect toilet paper in my trees any day now. Haven't seen her car since that night. Fine by me.

The Saturday after Honkpocalypse, I needed a pick-me-up so I went to the salon. When I got home, I failed to notice Mr. Groundhog Day at the mailbox. We call him Groundhog Day because, as nice as he is, we always have the exact same conversation with him. Everyone does. He will tell you about his job, his wife's health problems, his daughter and the Civil War. In that order. Every time. And usually for half an hour.

It is officially hot in Missouri and people with hyper-hell-drosis are especially sensitive to heat. The last thing I want to do after having a relaxing morning is stand in the sun and listen to Groundhog Day tell me about the Civil War. I was in furious pain, melting and dying from boredom. The situation was made worse by the fact that Mr. Buffie had lunch waiting inside. So close, yet so far away. Like being caught in a bear trap. A Civil War bear trap stuck on repeat. Once I chewed my leg off, I ran for the door like Flo Jo.

Poor Groundhog Day. I feel badly for him but how do you nicely tell someone you've already heard everything they're about to say and you don't have an extra 30 minutes to hear it again? You don't. You chew your leg out of the bear trap and limp toward freedom.

Anyway, pain, work, more pain, no sleep, work, pain, and a week has passed. (I'm back on the pills but it takes a while before they start doing their magic.) It's Saturday again and a friend of ours has asked us to dinner. He's a chef and he's making cochinita pibil, margaritas and some of the most incredible salsa known to humanity.

I'm getting ready for dinner, siting at the vanity in my bedroom when I hear sirens and horns. An ambulance and a fire truck are in front of Casa De Groundhog. Really wanted to rubberneck but I didn't want to be late for yummy goodness, so I went back about my business.

Then the night before last, I was in bed not sleeping as usual and heard what sounded like air brakes outside. It was almost 3 a.m. Got up and was able to see an ambulance in front of the Groundhog house again. Strange because there were no sirens, not even coming up the highway. I couldn't make out much else. It was there for about 45 minutes and then left, again with no sirens, no flashing lights either. What does it mean when an ambulance comes to your house at that hour and in such a way? Mrs. Groundhog does have some serious health issues. Dreadful thoughts lately and I'm sad for the Groundhogs because they are good people, even if I do actively avoid one of them.

Yesterday wasn't necessarily weird but it sure wasn't fun. Went to the New Nice Lady Doctor for the routine physical. Ladies you know the one. NNLD has been keeping an eye on the vein problem in my legs for a while now and out of nowhere sent me directly to the hospital because with the recent godawful pain, she was thinking possible blood clot. Needed that like a hole in the head. Shot my entire day. But a few hours later, another nice lady at the hospital said I wouldn't be admitted and she let me come home.

Today is where the weirdness came back. Went to the psychiatrist for the usual anxiety disorder treatment. He likes to take my vitals every visit. My blood pressure was through the roof. He didn't even want to talk about anxiety. He immediately called NNLD and asked if she could see me or if I needed to go to the ER. ER!?! Hold up, Mr. Psychiatrist, you didn't say jack to me about the ER. If my blood pressure wasn't already on the moon, it is now. ER? Hell to the no. ER = lost time at work + expensive + potential for needles + no kitty cats. No gracias.

I should mention that when I got home yesterday, I broke yet another toe. Not too bad this time. Probably just cracked it but that was another shock of pain that I could do without.

I explain to Mr. Psychiatrist that the BP is probably because of my toe. He notices it's huge and purple but doesn't think it is bad enough to cause the BP to spike. Asks me to chill for 10 minutes in a quiet place and he'll check it again.

Is this just a fat thing or do blood pressure cuffs hurt everyone? He used a different cuff when he checked it the second time and it hurt so bad my eyes watered. It was kind of him to apologize for that but he didn't apologize for the ER scare so I'm holding a bit of a grudge.

NNLD was able to see my this afternoon. She was kind of tripping on the BP too. I admit, it was high. Not as high as that day Mr. Buffie dragged me to the urgent care clinic in the snow because my little tumor thing was infected but it was close.

Third BP check, same result. Chill for a while. Fourth BP check, can you guess? Ah yes, same result. So she orders an EKG. Nurse comes in and puts about two dozen sticky things on my chest, arms and legs. I think it was really more like 10 but when she was peeling them off, it felt like someone jerking giant leeches out of my flesh.

Want to know what happens next? BP check! How do you think it went? Same result!

Weird Alert: EKG was normal. Blood tests from yesterday's physical were normal. Basically every other exam that's been done on me (other than the hormone/endocrine junk) has been normal. Same as it ever was... same as it ever was, to quote David Byrne.

So why are my blood pressure numbers so high they require commas? Yeah, my toe hurts but I have to agree with Mr. Psychiatrist, it doesn't justify this.

NNLD gave me pills, I see her again next week. Another reason to lose sleep but I'm trying to put it out of my mind.

Now for what will hopefully be the end of a series of odd events... As I was driving home from the hospital yesterday, I noticed a car in front of me had 'RIP' written on the back window with shoe polish, along with a person's name and a giant heart. I recognized the name as an acquaintance who had been pointedly and repeatedly ~~unkind~~ cruel to me about six years ago. Elephants never forget.

When I got home, you know I went directly to Google.

Without divulging too much, I will say he was engaging in dangerous and illegal behavior and thankfully he did not injure or kill anyone else in the process.

I joke that if I could go back in time, I'd probably do some serious physical harm to the people who taught me all I know about hate, bigotry and bullying. But I would never wish them dead.

Maybe there was a good side of him? I never saw it, so I wouldn't know. This is the first time I've ever been faced with the death of a known bully. It's awkward and a little confusing. By no means will I celebrate what happened to him. But I won't lie, I am not mourning the loss in the slightest. I'm sure his family loved him. However I wonder if there are other big people he treated like shit, unprovoked, based solely on the fact that they're fat.

It's weird because I intimately know the profound life-changing damage people suffer at the hands of bullies and I am thankful for one less bully in this world. But I also know bullies' families love them and his family is suffering the ultimate loss.

Perhaps there are times when death is neither a negative nor a positive. It all depends on which side of the fence you're standing when it happens.

In my personal experience, death has always been sad, but also strange in some way. This time, it is only strange.

If Catherine Zeta-Jones can do it...

2011-04-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

... Then so can I.

Not that I've ever tried to hide my mental health issues but I'm always glad to see a celebrity speaking frankly on the topic. CZJ is on a recent cover of People Magazine talking about treating her bipolar disorder.

That takes balls, big brass ones.

Even in 2011, there's still a lot of stigma attached to mental illness. Seems like many people continue to misunderstand what it is; some question whether it is even a "real" problem and some even believe people who live with mental illness are responsible for having their disorder. Absurd, I know!

Let me make it clear - it IS an actual, medical issue. No organ is infallible, so why assume the brain is? To the non-believers, do you actually think psychologists, psychiatrists and pharmaceutical companies conspired to create an imaginary illness just so they could have something to do? Then would they get all the imaginary patients all over the world to fake all the same symptoms for particular disorders? Come on now, be realistic... they wouldn't.

(At this time, I will acknowledge that some people do fake illnesses. I think it's called Münchausen syndrome. I'm not talking about those certain individuals in this instance. Their existence doesn't prove that mental illness is 'fake.' If anything, it proves the opposite of that. Everyone on the same page here?)

I have an anxiety disorder and to a rather severe degree. My parents noticed symptoms when I was about 3 years old. At age 19, I began treatment with therapy and medication. Don't ask why it took so long... it doesn't matter at this point. Today I continue to take meds and occasionally see a therapist. There is no cure but treatment does improve my quality of life significantly. The daily struggle never goes away but with help, it's tolerable and I'm able to be a mostly functional member of society.

If you think you or someone you know has a mental illness, there is no shame in getting help. If you have a friend who acts uncontrollably moody, depressed, nervous, paranoid, etc... don't blame them for it. Be supportive, suggest they talk to a doctor.

If funds are limited, explain this to the doctor. There are ways you can treat your disorder on a budget. Some doctors will discount office visits for people who don't have insurance. My doctor did when I didn't have coverage. He would also give me samples of the medication to help me out when I couldn't afford to refill my prescription every month. If you can't cover the price of one-on-one therapy, there might be support groups in your area that cost little to nothing.

You don't have to suffer and you shouldn't blame yourself. You might never be totally symptom-free but you CAN feel better, so get on the internet and find a mental health professional in your area. There are people who understand what you're going through. Catherine Zeta-Jones does and so do I.

Why are your bad decisions my responsibility?

2011-04-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

No secret I love some Junk TeeVee. It's nice to have mindless drivel playing in the background when I'm going about my domestic business. Sometimes I find it entertaining between folding clothes or vacuuming. Other times, it's just white noise while I do some bookkeeping or during nights when I work from home.

Recently I caught part of a show where a girl with money for $5-mocha-chino-lattes, fake nails, dining out, tanning, designer purses and other things receives government assistance. Since when is it acceptable to spend money on happy ha ha fun time things then require the taxpayer to pick up the tab for her essentials?

These assistance programs provide a vital service to people who truly need help. People who are physically or mentally challenged and unable to work but don't have the luxury of having a wealthy parent to buy them a home are the ones meant to benefit from government aid. Then there are the working poor - people who can and do work yet don't currently earn enough money to pay for medicine or food. Government assistance is intended for these individuals, sometimes permanently or long-term and other times temporarily until they can get back on their feet.

Government assistance is NOT meant to be used in place of personal accountability. (Fer shizz, I really want an iPhone 4 even though a regular mobile phone will work just fine. Unfortunately, I only have enough money to buy things I actually need, like groceries and gas. BUT if I get food stamps, I'll be able to buy an iPhone 4. Yay me! I'm so clever. Thank you, hard-working people who pay taxes so I can have things I don't really need.) Many people are doing precisely that and to such a degree that some of these programs are now in danger of being eliminated. How an able-bodied, able-minded person can abuse the system and sleep at night blows my mind. Apparently it isn't too hard because it happens every day.

Money for these programs doesn't come flying out of a unicorn's ass. People who work and pay taxes fund the programs. Therefore, people who abuse the programs are committing fraud and stealing from taxpayers.

Since when is entitlement en vogue? What's so glamorous about being a mooch?

Why do taxpayers owe help to someone who doesn't truly need it?

Fifty Pounds of Douche in a Five Pound Bag

2011-04-01T18:05:00.000-07:00

I wish I could figure out what is wrong with some people. Then I remember there is indeed much truth to the saying 'ignorance is bliss.' But if I don't complain at least a little bit, I'm going to burst. This week has been such a pisser... literally.

Yesterday afternoon, there was a group of asshole baseball fans in the grocery store parking lot, drinking beers and relieving themselves right out there in the open, in broad daylight. I know what I think to myself when I see an intoxicated loser pissing in public - wow, how amazingly rad. I yearn to be so cool someday.

You do the Kansas City Royals damn proud, you pathetic lot of drunk-driving fuck ups. I would wish that you had both smacked your little silver compact car and your fine redneck limousine (aka truck) into bridge abutments or each other on the way home. But knowing what an upstanding bunch you were, I bet you don't have a lick of insurance so you'd be sucking off the hind government tit to pay for your injuries and I give a massive chunk of my income for that tit so... yeah... unfortunately, I hope you got home safely and without harming non-drunk-driving people.

Just wanted you to know my desire for your well-being is purely motivated by selfishness. If there were no such thing as undeserving fucktards on various kinds of welfare, I would't give half a shit what happened to you guys.

You saw me flag down an employee in the parking lot and you were keen enough to get the hell out of there because I think you figured out I was trying to complicate your evening. Congratulations, you have at least one active brain cell. Too bad we were on private property or else I would have just called the police instead of waiting for the store manager.

I think next time I see something like that, I will call the police. Now that I think about it, you got into your vehicles with open containers. It doesn't matter that you were on private property at that point, does it? Filing that away in my Mental Rolodex for sure.

For what it cost you to drive to the game, park, buy beer and food, you could have all shared a cab and for a few dollars in tip, the cab driver would happily have waited for you while you WENT INSIDE the store or a gas station to use the facilities. Royals fans? Not so much. More like Royal douchebags.

Sadly I can't say that's the only example of the shitty side of humanity I witnessed this week...

Tonight I'm driving home from work. At a stop light, there's a nicely maintained Range Rover. It's been tastefully 'pimped,' not overdone. Next to it in the left-turn lane is a little import of some kind. A Hyundai or Kia, not sure. They all look the same.

This one was especially cherry. Banged up mismatched body panels, with peeling, bubbled tint on the filthy windows and one of those big coffee-can angry farting bee exhaust pipes sagging under the cockeyed bumper. The back tire was gone and in its place was the smallest spare I think I've ever seen in my life. It looked like a stroller wheel.

From the general condition of the car and the fact that the engine wouldn't idle without you repeatedly revving it, I'm guessing that teensy tiny cute little miniature tire has been there for much longer than its intended purpose. And yes, it's impressive that I could hear the engine over the stereo. How is it people can afford these crazy loud speakers but they can't afford a tire? Is damaging your hearing and disturbing the peace really more important than your safety and the safety of other motorists on the road with you?

That itty bitty spare is precious but when it comes flying off your car at 70 miles per hour (I feel safe in assuming you don't realize you're not supposed to drive faster than about 40 mph with a 'donut'... or drive on it for 6 months) it can cause significant damage if it hits another car. Might even kill someone if it goes through a windshield. Fuck other people though. They don't matter. You and your shitty stereo are more important than anything else on the road.

I bet you're the kind of person who spends money on those stupid animated ringtones they advertise during "Teen Mom 2." You know you are. You text your name to the 5-digit number to see what your "Jersey Shore" nickname should be. You can afford $50 a month in extra phone bill fees for Miss Cleo tarot updates on your iPhone but you can't buy a tire for the clapped-out tin can you're driving.

You know something? Your crap tunes and POS car are easy to overlook. It's what you did at the stoplight that made my jaw drop. You and your passenger have small penises or your parents didn't give you enough attention as children. How do I know? I saw you both giving the stink-eye to the Range Rover.

The dirty looks just didn't satisfy you and your passenger though. No. You needed to make a point to that Range Rover because something about it made you mad. Made you jealous? Filled you with rage because it forced you to confront your personal misgivings?

So your passenger, in a move of pure class, deliberately extended his arm as far out the window as he could and flicked his cigarette at the Range Rover. SUCCESS! His cigarette did indeed hit the Range Rover although I doubt its millisecond of contact was enough to mar the paint. Aww shucks. Your little expression of hate turned out to be impotent, just like you.

The Range Rover driver didn't seem to notice either. That must have stung. What were you hoping for from him? Did you think he'd see your point, whatever it was supposed to be, then get out and hand you the keys?

Do I sound like a snob? I shouldn't, because I'm not. I joke about it, but I sincerely am not totally stuck up. Hell, I used to have a hoopty.

I've had a few ugly, cheap cars in my day but they were dependable. That was all I could afford at the time because I do this thing called "living within my means." That's where people spend their money responsibly. It isn't too hard either. Basically, you just refrain from buying non-essentials if you can't afford them.

Smart phones, cigarettes, speaker amps, animated ring-tones, satellite TeeVee and bling bling are non-essentials. A car in good mechanical order and safe tires are essentials. Shocking, I know. It is so simple! Why doesn't everyone do it? That's what I'd like to figure out. So you tell me.

In the cases of these individuals, I think it's safe to consider things like birth control pills, condoms and surgical sterilization as essentials. Top priority essentials even.

I realize no one is perfect. Perfection is not expected. But come the fuck on! There is no excuse for this particular brand of bullshit. Is there? Can it be justified? Try to explain this to me, I am honestly interested. I refuse to believe it is easily dismissed as 'stupid people.' There's got to be something more to it, right?

I'm looking for a cure. Humanity deserves better than this and without a cure, we're doomed because the douchebags are reproducing at a feverish rate... Meanwhile truly responsible and upstanding gay would-be parents are denied the opportunity to adopt or foster on a daily basis.

And people wonder why I'm a misanthrope?! Ugh. This is the part where I build a bridge and get over it.

Under the Covers

2011-01-19T21:01:00.000-08:00

Recently a friend who is also a keen musician asked me what the best cover of all time was. After thinking on it for several days, I have decided there is no one song. It must be a list. Sort of like #TheShitThatKilledElvis except, you know, cover songs. The cover songs that killed Elvis?

Now some of you might not agree and that's fine. You can correct me in the comments and I will talk smack on you and your bad taste later. LoLz! ^_^

Here goes, I'll name the covering band, the song and the original artist and it's kind of not in any particular order but favorites will be closer to the top of the list.

Stevie Ray Vaughan - Superstition - Stevie Wonder
Keane - Under Pressure - Queen and David Bowie
Phil Lewis - Fat Bottomed Girls - Queen
Power Station - Get It On - T. Rex
Presidents of the United States of America - Cleveland Rocks - Ian Hunter
Gnarls Barkley - Gone Daddy Gone - Violent Femmes
Love Spit Love - How Soon Is Now - The Smiths
Katy Perry - Hackensack - Fountains of Wayne
Lifehouse - Somewhere Only We Know - Keane
Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah - Leonard Cohen
Gary Jules - Mad World - Tears for Fears
Cake - I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
Blues Brothers - Soul Man - Sam & Dave
Fountains of Wayne - Baby One More Time - Britney Spears
Scissor Sisters - Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

I realize there are TONS more super great covers but these are the ones I actually know and ones where I feel like the artist covering the tune gives it a deliciously different flavor from the original.

*Buffie reserves the right to add to this list whenever she wants and without prior notice or crap like that.

Thanksgiving by Numbers.

2010-11-27T21:47:00.000-08:00

14 - Number of family & friends in attendance.

13 - Times I loaded/unloaded the dishwasher.

5 - Nights we ate some sort of leftovers.

4 - Days of vacation spent at home working my ass off.

2 - Trips to World Market for chocolate and cheap wine.

1 - Attempt by 70-year-old father-in-law to demonstrate the "Moon Walk" which he referred to as the "Mars Walk."

Things we learned:

Parents will still chirp in your lobes about making your bed even if you haven't lived with them in over a decade.

Do NOT get in between dad and ice cream from Glacé unless you want to know what it's like to be run over by a city bus.

You can make pancakes but they'll never be as good as the ones your mum makes.

Cats can and do hold a grudge and will barf out of spite if your visitors fuck up their routine.

Apparently my family does not believe in Thanksgiving dinner without some kind of Jell-O "salad."

Old people typically don't quote from "Anchorman" so threatening to punch an annoying male family member in the ovary may cause your relatives to question your sanity and/or sobriety. Explain nothing, it only makes it worse.

It is safer to wander the streets unarmed and alone during a zombie apocalypse than it is to go ANYWHERE during Black Friday.

And some of you wonder why I call it X-Mess?

Maura and the Big Fat Horror

2010-10-26T22:19:00.000-07:00

Do you know Maura Kelly? I didn't until today when my bestie Lisa posted a Jezebel link about her on FB. Maura stepped in a big fat pile of shit with a recent blog she wrote for Marie Claire.

Turns out Maura thinks "fatties" are disgusting. Granted, she later apologized but... not really.

This isn't the first time a chick rag has gone there. Cosmo does it all the time with their absurd diet tips peppered through issue after issue. I cancelled my sub to W magazine years ago when they ran the Nan Kempner story with a pull out of her quote, "I hate fat people."

Later that same week, I cancelled my sub to Elle magazine for a similar reason, although I don't recall now what the specific story was. Seems like it was E. Jean's column...

You know how hard it is for a makeup/accessories/fashion junkie like me to swear off all the mainstream girlie mags? I haven't touched a Glamour in years. And their constant fat bashing is why. I'm not going to give my money to any pub that preaches hate or discrimination. Note to advertisers, you might pick your placements a little more carefully. We're watching you.

There's a light in the dark though. -evil grins-

How about Twitter search results with THOUSANDS of tweets speaking out against Maura Kelly's unabashed size discrimination. Not just size acceptance peeps either. Folks from every walk of life were appalled. Men, women, all ages, all colors, all sizes, from all over the world. The message was clear - fat hate isn't going to be tolerated.

If you're looking for some excellent new people to liven up your Twitter stream, you'll find them. I found several. (Thanks Maura! ~winks~)

Reality check... We still have a long way to go. I saw an article this week about size discrimination in the workplace. But stories revealing the truth about manipulated images in magazines give me hope that fat bashing will cease to be socially acceptable someday.

Maura, I hope you can come to terms with your self-loathing. I know this experience is going to set you back a little but as a journalist, you should have thought it through better. Learn from it. Learn that no one is "disgusting" because of how they look. Learn that you're not "disgusting" because of how you look either.

Actions on the other hand... sometimes actions are disgusting and your 'Mike & Molly' blog was an example of that.

If you ever want to feel better about yourself and the way you look, my advice to you is stop reading magazines like Marie Claire.

Ever wake up five years later and go "what the fork was I thinking?!"

2010-08-16T17:20:00.001-07:00

Ever wake up five years later and go "what the fork was I thinking?!"

Answer here

An indication that you've had enough.

2010-08-05T18:35:00.000-07:00

You're right. It's all Obama's fault. The economy, the war, illegal immigration, the environment, broken health care system. All him. He writes all the legislation on his own, and he passes it on his own and those 535 people we call "Congress" don't actually do anything except read scripts given to them by Obama. There were no other people in office prior to Obama who made mistakes either. He's the only one who has ever fucked up ever ever.

In fact, he lies awake at night, scheming on ways to destroy our country and take away our guns and make us all slave vegan Muslims.

We the people have zero responsibility in this. None of us have borrowed money we couldn't pay back and spent it on things we didn't need. None of us live beyond our means. We are all highly informed voters who base our decisions on issues instead of blindly following flawed party lines and we show up at the polls for elections on every level and we diligently communicate with our lawmakers both to express our needs and to monitor their actions, demanding ethical conduct. We get our information from trusted neutral sources like the Library of Congress and VoteSmart.org.

We never start frivolous lawsuits after doing stupid shit to ourselves and tie up the courts and waste tax dollars. Not us! We're all fully accountable for our actions and the actions of our children. We would never blame someone else for our own mistakes, indifference or neglect.

We never try to pass or support legislation based on religious bias or our own personal selfish agendas and all of us who are able to work do work and we never defraud the system. We never try to force our personal beliefs on those around us.

We the people are perfect and innocent and that evil man in the White House is completely to blame. Him and him alone. Oh no, we cannot place responsibility on any of our local, state or federal lawmakers or ourselves. We are all merely helpless pawns in Obama's grand plan to ruin the world.

And I would never have come to this liberating realization without all the endless forwarded emails I receive and never ever try to verify because I fully accept them as fact by reasoning that if it's good enough to press the "Fwd" button, the person who sent it clearly did their homework.

If there is a single person reading this blog right now who failed to immediately recognize all of the above as pure and bitter sarcasm, please click that little "X" up in the corner and you'll be promptly redirected to a website perfectly suited for your level of intelligence.

And so help me gawd if I receive this, my own message, in the future as a forwarded email framed to represent researched facts and edited to omit my disclosure, I will see to it that the current sender and all senders before them die in a mysterious fire. The headlines will say "Homo-loving pot-smoking meat-eating baby-killing freedom-hating psychotic fat atheist bitch locks dozens of respected bigots in local church and torches it!"

Wow. I feel a lot better now.

Your Fluff Welcome Here

2010-07-09T21:23:00.000-07:00

"Aw, look, poor thing, they won't let her shop. Yeah - like those salesgirls in Beverly Hills aren't bigger whores than she is." ~ Romy White, "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion" (1997)

I bet more than just fluffies can relate to this:

You show up to an establishment you've never visited only to discover you're a fish out of water, like a group of Mennonites at a frat boy's bachelor party.

In my experiences, it involved discovering the hard way that a certain biz was either not fat-friendly or straight up fat-intolerant. Not naming names *cough*cough* The Plaza *cough*cough* but I have stumbled across a few such places and it never fails to surprise, disappoint and incense me.

As a gesture of consideration to my chunky brethren and... uhhh... sisteren? (That's not a real term is it? Pfft. Do over! See next sentence.) In support of mah fat peeps and their sizes-other-than-fat family and friends, I would like to give those living in or planning to visit my adopted home town of KCMO a little guidance to the more chub-accessible attractions.

Noms... this city has some good ones. Nice variety too, if you can tolerate the irritating lack of good Cajun food.

Asian food:

Saigon 39

According to some reviews, they serve substandard pho. I like pho but that isn't why I go to Saigon 39. Their chicken fried rice is wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-craving-it good and if you like peanut sauce, theirs is superb (but pricey).

Fat Tolerant: Has tables with metal chairs and booths. Chairs do not have arms and booth tables are not affixed. Crowd is always a mixed bag but not too teen-infested. Restroom is spacious. Staff is polite but don't show up close to closing time because you may have to get it to go.

Minuses: Not really wheelchair accessible and parking can be a bitch during peak hours.

*LGBT Friendly Bonus Points

Asian Tiger

Super yummy traditional and modern sushi, ah-mah-zing pan dishes and one of the best non-bar cocktail menus in town.

Fat Friendly: Has tables with wood chairs and booths. Chairs do have arms but they are wide-set and only partially the length of the seat. Booth tables are not affixed and seats are comfortable. Charming, pleasant usually-quiet atmosphere. Haven't seen a big group of teens dining unsupervised there yet, which is a Buffie-Bonus. Staff is polite and respectful. Wheelchair accessible.

Mexican food:

Pancho's

Simple but satisfying and inexpensive menu. Very casual local chain with 24/7 drive thru windows.

Fat Tolerant: I admit, I almost never dine in at Pancho's because drive-thru rocks and I'm always in a hurry. I view drive-thrus at places that aren't national chains as a nod (intentional or not) to the chunky monkey customer. The location I frequent has fixed-table booths only. I can squeeze into a booth if I can't avoid getting take out but it isn't comfortable. Staff is polite and respectful.

Minuses: The location on Main is not the best place to be for people traveling alone after dark. Have had close-encounters of the potentially intoxicated/violent/generally criminal kind one too many times in that area.

Sol Azteca (now called Sabor Y Sol)

I haven't been since they remodeled but I have it on good authority that it's the same management and menu, which leans Tex-Mex. *giddy* Excellent price/portion ratio and leftovers heat up beautifully for lunch the next day.

*UPDATE* I've been to Sabor Y Sol a couple times since they re-opened and it's everything Sol Azteca was and more. They now have made-fresh-when-you-order-it guacamole that will land your ass in rehab. The interior is much brighter now. Tables and chairs are still fat-friendly. Staff is great. FOOD IS INCREDIBLE and more than reasonably priced.

Fat Friendly: Has tables with metal chairs and booths. Booth tables are not affixed but the spacing can be tight depending on how busy they are. Ladies' room is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful.

American noms, like burgers and steaks, yo:

Courthouse Exchange

Best freaking burger on earth next to OKC's Belle Isle Brewery Honey Pepper Bacon Burger. Onion rings so incredible they won over notorious hater of onions, Mr. Buffie.

Fat Tolerant: It's down a flight of stairs in the basement of a historic building, so it's totally not wheelchair accessible. Has tables with wood chairs and booths. I think some of the booth tables may be affixed but I don't remember. Crowd is adult but can be lively later in the evening. Ladies' room is spacious. Staff is polite and respectful.

Hereford House

It's a KC staple known for incredible steak. Pricey but if you're craving a /real/ steak, it sooo fits the bill.

Fat Tolerant: I only rate it a "Tolerant" and not a "Friendly" because the staff (usually just the hostesses) can be on the rude teen/mean girl side. Has tables and booths. I think some booths have affixed tables. Crowd is sometimes overly yuppie but that's at every "classy" steak joint, right? Ladies' room is spacious. Wheelchair accessible.

Barbeque, (spelled the right way - with a q) also known as BBQ:

Rosedale Barbeque

This was my first experience with KC BBQ and it was love at first bite. Beef sammichs, ribs, burnt ends (which is a clever but unjust term for delicious chunks of smoked brisket), cole slaw and the most sinful french fries in nom history. Definitely has a "dive joint" vibe but isn't filthy gross or anything like that. Respectable selection of very cold beers.

Fat Friendly: Has tables with metal chairs that generously outnumber the fixed-table booths. Ladies' room is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful.

BB's Lawnside BBQ

Hybrid restaurant and blues bar that has, of all things, an amazing meatloaf dinner on the menu. Also try the BBQ nachos... yes NACHOS! Bar has both liquor and beer for those who prefer a cocktail instead of a brew with their smoked meats.

Fat Friendly: Family style tables with an assortment of metal chairs. Crowd is varied but never teen heavy. Ladies' room is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful.

Multifariousness for the multifattieousness...

More noms:

Waldo Pizza

I am generally NOT a fan of pizza but I am coo coo crazy for Waldo Pizza. My fave is a spicy beef and sun dried tomato pizza with honey-wheat crust and extra sauce. The ultimate combination of savory, cheesy, sweet, hot, crusty and chewy. Westport Room special ranch dressing contains crack, I'm pretty sure. Never tried to actually shoot up with it but the idea has crossed my mind. Impressive beer/liquor selection. This ain't your average Chuck E. Cheese folks.

Fat Friendly: Has tables with wood chairs and booths. I'm not 100% sure but I think the booths have fixed-tables. Crowd can attract teens and kids because pizza seems to have that effect but I have never been disturbed to the point of panic. Ladies' room is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful.

*LGBT Friendly Bonus Points

Movies:

Tivoli Cinemas

Mostly independent films. Some of my favorite movies I've watched here.

Fat Friendly: Theaters are on the 2nd floor but there's an elevator. Smaller size means every seat has a great view. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is wonderfully polite and respectful.

Minuses: Seats are older and on the small side but I'm able to wedge myself into them without much discomfort. Sit in the back if you need to stand up a couple times during the flick so you don't block the view of the people behind you. Decent leg room despite the seat width.

*LGBT Friendly Bonus Points

Bars:

Knucklehead's

If you're from KC and you long for the old Grand Emporium, Knucklehead's is a most suitable substitute and a regular Candye Kane tour stop. Blues, beer, liquor and noms. What else do you need?

Fat Friendly: Totally mixed bag of tables, chairs and booths. Crowd is fun but mature. No fratmosphere. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful.

Missie B's

Gay bar featuring delightful drag shows with unforgettable emcee - Dirty Dorothy.

Fat Friendly: Tables with regular chairs and bar stools. Ladies' room is spacious. Staff is polite and respectful, and in Dorothy's case, family.

*LGBT Friendly Bonus Points - Duh, obviously! LoL

Glamorousness:

Blo Salon Studio

If you think I have awesome hair, and I do (not bragging, just saying) then go to Blo and get some, too!

Fat Friendly: Salon seats have arms but they're wide set. Restroom is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is polite and respectful when it counts and devilishly hilarious the rest of the time.

*LGBT Friendly Bonus Points

Oasis Tan

Shut up, I know excessive tanning is supposed to be harmful, dangerous, whatever. I know, I know. But I don't overdo it and I cheat with spray tans. Speaking of spray tans, they have VersaSpa, and it's kickass.

Fat Tolerant: Variety of beds feature some larger, more spacious models. There is a weight limit and the staff I've dealt with answered my weight-limit questions professionally and respectfully. VersaSpa booth easily accommodates BBWs and most SSBBWs. Restroom is spacious. Wheelchair accessible. Staff is primarily young women who don't give off that "mean girl" vibe at all. That is a rare find in a tanning salon.

Shopping:

Mary Kay

Skin care and cosmetics that will rock your socks.

You know I had to put MK on my list. Hello! The consultant comes to /you/. Does it get more fat friendly than that!?

Lia Sophia

High quality costume jewelry sold via home parties. Like MK, LS consultants bring the shopping to you. Many of their necklaces are extra-long. Measurements for necklaces and bracelets are listed, eliminating the guesswork when it comes to fit.

And those are a few of my favorite things. By no means is this list complete. I would imagine there are many more fat friendly/tolerant places to haunt in the KC area and as I encounter them, I'll gladly share what I find.

Peace, fluff and equality,

~Buffie

Hi Buff, I'm a big fan of your modeling carreer. Do you wear also sexy cleavage and mini skirt in your daily.

2010-06-27T17:37:00.001-07:00

Not really. Only in fat-safe/fat-friendly environments because the average group of people cannot be trusted to act respectfully. It's an unpleasant fact.

I live out loud as much as I can but I also realize there are boundaries I shouldn't push in public because society isn't ready to accept fat pride. We still have some fighting to do on that front.

Why ask why?

Are there any celebrities, actresses, or other such female famous peoplez specifically who you think gaining weight would be an improvement, E.G. improve there looks, make them sexier good for them or make em see the world through a larger girls eyes <;]

2010-06-23T21:49:00.001-07:00

No specific person comes to mind; there are some who need a smack upside the head tho. (Spencer Pratt, Kanye, I'm talking to you.)

Not every skinny girl can rock curves... however I have to speak the whole truth and that is, not every zaftig lady can make skinny look good either.

I am never happy to see any celeb pimping sodium-laden over-priced horrors like Nutricrapstem or Jenny Crank. There are better ways to make money than by telling fat people they're hideous then preying on the ones who are unfortunately gullible enough to believe it.

However, it's probably unfair of me to hold a celebrity to a higher standard than the average person... but what the hay, it's fun so I do it anyway. Heeee!!!

Why ask why?

What's the craziest movie you've ever seen? The kind that just make you scratch your head and say WTF?

2010-06-23T21:31:00.001-07:00

Probably a David Lynch movie... even though those are pretty tame in the big picture of creepy flicks. This foreign film I watched with my friend Regina was pretty out there. It was about a killer dog. And I think it was French. Baxter... Omg it has a Wiki page. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baxter_(film)

Your questions are so much fun, Cat! (((hugs)))

Why ask why?

Buffie, I think your a real sex bomb of the SSBBW and a model to "big" women. Would you like to pose on Playboy or similar?

2010-06-15T19:33:00.001-07:00

That's nice of you to say. It's fun. =)

Playboy has some of the most consistently lovely nude glamour photography out there. And true to what people say - the writing is excellent, nice combo of fluff and important stuff. Sort of like a morning news show except for hipsters who like vintage designer clothes and expensive vodka. A little ad heavy but when you hire the best, you have to pay them what they're worth somehow. Straight subscription costs probably wouldn't begin to cover their expenses.

I don't necessarily think I'm the appropriate type of model for Playboy's audience. Obviously they cater to people who are attracted to a thin/barely curvy body.

While I appreciate it personally, I realize I would not be popular among the majority of their readers. I might even get angry emails from people who are offended by simple fatness, and unfortunately I've come across a few.

There are some magazines that have equally kickass photography that feature we of the fluffy variety. So if one of them asked me, I would be flatted and gladly accept. ^_^

Why ask why?

What is your all time favorite photo of yourself and why? If the photo is available online can you direct the world to it?

2010-04-30T19:24:00.001-07:00

It's a photo of me when I was like 5 or 6. My grandpa (mum's side) was having professional portraits done. He took mum and me with him.

He lived almost 700 miles away but we would visit him a lot or he would come stay with us for a few weeks at a time. Like all kids, I was his shadow. Followed him everywhere.

So when he was having these portraits taken, I don't think I really knew what was going on, other than grandpa was sitting there by himself and looked like he needed some company. So I crashed his photo session.

The picture is above my fire place but not available on the net. I should probably get it scanned so I'll always have it.

Why ask why?

Do you take it in the ass? If yes, do you like it?

2010-04-25T20:14:00.001-07:00

No, if I'm going to take it somewhere, I usually just put it in the trunk of the car and drive it there. Where I live, very few people own either an ass, a mule or an ox, so there aren't a lot of folks here who would take it in the ass, even if it were only a for a short distance. Urban zoning laws and such, you know what I mean.

To answer your second question, no. I do not believe I would like to take it in the ass because I like to get it there faster than that. I don't know the fastest speed for taking it in the ass, but I can't imagine it being quicker than 20 or 30 mph. Taking it in the ass just seems like a really inefficient way to get it there.

Not that I judge people who do take it in the ass. Modes of personal freight transportation are an individual choice and should be respected. Perhaps the Amish take it in the ass because it's not large enough for taking it in the family carriage and also because the Amish do not believe in owning modes of personal freight transportation other than things like asses, mules, horses and maybe oxen too. People like to take it in all sorts of ways. Some like to take it in the bicycle, some like taking it in the city bus.

Hope this makes my stance on taking it in the ass clear.

~winks~

C'mon guys, you all know by now I don't do questions like that. Waaay too personal. I'm cool with being open but that goes beyond my own boundaries. Just FYI for those who aren't aware.

Thanks tho. It was fun having the chance to give a silly answer. I enjoyed that part. :D Was it good for you? (snork!)

Why ask why?

You can have lunch with 3 people in all of human history, who you have lunch with and why?

2010-04-21T20:04:00.001-07:00

Oh wow. This is just lunch right? Like I can still have dinner with 3 other people and breakfast with 3 more and then lunch again with 3 new ones?

Three people... does it matter if they're dead? I mean, I don't want to have lunch with dead people. So if let's say if these hypothetically dead people were still alive, k?

Alright, here goes.

Kevyn Aucoin - an amazing make up artist who left this world far too soon. I would want to just be in his presence in hopes I'd soak up a fraction of his talent.

Candye Kane - kickass blues singer and songwriter whose music make you feel like a rockstar yourself. Candye has the gift of good vibes and she shares it freely.

If I can't cheat and make the 3rd person a combination of all the people I love in the world, then I would have to pick... gosh... this is a good question btw... I'd pick... uhm... Ohkay, I know.

Hunter S. Thompson. If I have to explain who that is then you should smack yourself upside the head. He was batshit crazy. His insanity was only outpaced by his brilliance. There has always been something about his dichotomy that resonates with me. Significantly. Not that I'm genius or looney but like him, I'm uncomfortably content being stuck in between.

Why ask why?

What "clique" were you with in school?

2010-04-15T19:12:00.001-07:00

In my opinion my friends were the best people on the planet and they still are. So I'd say I was in the "Super Awesome Rocking Clique of Excellent Peeps and Good Times".

People who were in the actual popular cliques were mostly assholes who looked down their noses at my friends and me. But they can eat shit because we totally had a blast together and there was nothing they could do to stop us.

Why ask why?

What is the next big thing that you are looking forward to in your life?

2010-04-12T23:27:00.001-07:00

I'm really looking forward to doing more community service. Last year I started volunteering my time on a regular basis and there's something oddly addicting about it.

When you assist someone or contribute to a project where many people benefit, you feel like you've done something significantly valuable with your time.

Don't get me wrong, days spent chilling with the kitty cats, friends and family is time well spent for sure and I wouldn't give that up for anything.

But volunteering is a great way to mix it up a bit. You make new friends, learn things about yourself and gain more social awareness. When you want to support a cause but you don't have money, you can always give time. I highly recommend it.

Awesome question. Thanks for asking! =)

Why ask why?

Why is there such an ugly divide in the US right now?

2010-03-30T11:10:00.001-07:00

You mean between political parties? I think it's because people focus too much on the "party" instead of the individual issues. The unwillingness for either party to negotiate or compromise with the other also polarizes us.

People don't take the time to verify what is forwarded to them in emails from their BFFs so they don't even know what the issues really are or how proposed legislation is actually written.

A lot of people also seem too interested in legislating what consenting adults do behind closed doors. This has got to stop.

If a same-gender couple wants to marry, for fuck sake, let them! If a woman gets pregnant and doesn't want to have the baby, let her terminate the pregnancy. If it's "immoral" that's no one's business but the individual(s) in question.

I think there will always be a divide because ignorance will always exist. Nosy asshole neighbors will always exist. Hate and greed will always exist. Best we can do is try to rise above it, try to accept that life isn't fair, show each other a little more kindness, patience and tolerance, even when we dislike someone or disagree with them. Within reason, of course. I'm not saying we go give Fred Phelps a hug but maybe if someone did, he'd be brave enough to come out of the closet...

Why ask why?

Is it okay to double dip?

2010-03-28T20:58:00.001-07:00

In legal terms, no. It is never permissible observe and fail to report or directly commit such infraction.

Chapter 16 Paragraph 3 of the Germaphobic code states that no community dip shall be transacted from in excess of a singular instance via similar vessel for individual consumption.

Since I am a believer in faithful observation of the Germaphobic code, neither is it acceptable to commit a multiple-dipping, nor shall I be endangered from accidental consumption of dip that has been violated because people are required by law to report observation of such vile crimes.

Paragraph 4 defines "community dip" as any taco dip, ranch dressing, cream cheese ball, fondue, cucumber sauce, or related accouterment of delicious noms intended for ingestion by way of edible delivery device.

Clearly this is something I take very seriously.

Why ask why?

Otherwise I never would have known.

2010-02-23T16:29:00.000-08:00

I'm fat?

WHAT???

Why, thank you for pointing that out. I was completely unaware until you so helpfully clued me in. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Because of your disdain for my size, I will immediately begin starving myself in order to gain your approval.

/end sarcasm

formspring.me

2010-02-01T21:21:00.001-08:00

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/KittyBuffieKat

Tetas en Rosado

2010-01-25T09:20:00.000-08:00

Hola mi amigos! Here's a new set from the Seattle Series. It's me! In pink! With boobs! YAY! =)

I'm barely in pink though. When I bought this top, I thought it would be just a little more stretchy than it really was. The boobs almost didn't fit. But we had a meeting, talked it over and came to a compromise. The boobs agreed to mush themselves into the top and the top agreed not to burst for at least a few photos. Everyone is happy!

Luscious hugs and jiggles, ~Buffie

*Much Thanks To Hot Light Studios For Taking These Images - They Rule!*

http://Buffie.BigCuties.com

I have become "memorably" numb?

2010-01-05T20:10:00.000-08:00

Tonight I had my first "you might be fat if..." experience.

You might be fat if...

...The lady who used to work at the donut shop sees you 2 years later at her new job where she's a hostess and she recognizes you but you don't have any idea who she is.

That was my big clue this evening.

Backstory: I go to this one donut place mayyyyybeeeee 4 or 5 times a year. (Not saying I only /eat/ there 4 or 5 times a year but usually Mr. Buffie just runs in and grabs a half-dozen on the way to work while she-who-is-not-a-morning-person waits in the car. So I personally don't step foot in the donut shop all that much.) /end Backstory

Tonight we went to grab a bite after an obscenely long day at the office and the very nice hostess lady says "Hi! Haven't seen you in a while!"

I'm thinking "Hi, haven't seen you... uhm, ever."

Then she says she knows me from the donut shop, where she used to work 2 years ago.

What does that mean???? Who has a memory like that? Does that mean I'm memorably fat? I've always jokingly wondered if they have fat "Wanted" posters in places like Chinese buffets and donut shops (like John Pinette says) but now I'm thinking - do they /really/ keep tabs???

Mr. Buffie is the one who pops in there 90% of the time and she doesn't seem to recognize him at all.

Not exactly paranoid but definitely perplexed and possibly even intrigued....

What makes someone memorable? (I know what makes someone memorable to me but what's the general consensus? I feel bad for not remembering her. She was a nice chick.)

Are you "memorably" fat? What was your first clue?

When Bad Weekends Happen to Good Buffies

2009-10-21T19:34:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was probably the worst damn string of events ever to happen to me. Or at least the worst that could happen without anyone dying.

But I learned something.

And it really wasn't "worth it". (How is "worth it" determined anyway?)

Friday night, for reasons I don't feel like discussing, I had to attend a high school football game. This involved 3 things I really fucking hate.

Outside.

Football.

Teenagers.

Some people are sexist. Some people are homophobic. Some people are elitist. Some people are racist.

Buffie is teen-ist.

I think that's a made-up word, but I don't know the real word for a person who hates teenagers as much as I do. Even when I was one, I hated it. You know why I hated it? Because of other teenagers.

I've said this before, but I'd rather face off with all of the Taliban on a bad turban day than have to spend 5 minutes with a person between the ages of 13 and 19.

Is it wrong of me to think like that? Yeah.

But you know what was MORE wrong??? How those fucking bastards treated me when I was a kid. So I feel like I have bloody earned the right to hate teenagers. I have also earned the right to hate frat pukes and other people who generally behave badly in public and in the presence of a fat person. All of them can go eat a scoop full of rat turds.

There were thousands of the sons of bitches there. One screamed in my face, completely unprovoked, and thought it was funny. Mr. Buffie considered knocking him the fuck out for a moment but thought better of it, what with the possibly going to the jail for the assault and all.

Poor Mr. Buffie. I practically rode him piggy-back all the way through the crowd. He had to hold onto both of my hands to assure himself I wouldn't randomly start smacking the ones who got too close to me.

You'd be proud of me though. I survived an entire 30 minutes before making a wild dash to the car and I didn't hit, poke, choke, kick, trip, shoot or shove a single one of them. I might have maybe kinda sorta perhaps accidentally shoulder checked a couple, but hey... you get in my space, I'll get in yours. Turn about is fair play, yes?

Mostly fair play.

They shoulder check me with a wimpy little piece of shit teen shoulder. I shoulder check back mad-fat-chick style and teen asshole spins like a top. I win! hee hee

Did I mention I have had bronchitis for two solid weeks? At the time I didn't know it was a flare up of bronchitis. I thought I was just really effing sick with the cold from hell and my mood was certainly not improved through abuse of NyQuil and obscene amounts of hot tea and whiskey. So let's add that to the weekend I hope goes down in history as the worst there ever was.

That sums up my Friday night.

Saturday I spent in a stupor, tissues shoved up my nostrils and a pillow over my face wishing for all the congestion in my head and chest to either turn to sand or explode and end my misery.

Lying down was completely futile because all the fluid nastiness in me made it impossible to breathe, meaning I got about 3 hours of actual sleep Saturday night.

Then there were the convulsive coughing fits that shook the foundation of my house and made me feel like I would literally pull the Kleenex away from my mouth only to see a chunk of my lung on it.

Now the sickness and the teenagers were really quite enough to make my weekend a total waste of time but ... unfortunately ... that wasn't all.

Guess what I got to do Sunday morning??!!

Wake up early.

Isn't that cute? A foul, snarling, snorting swamp beast being jerked out of slumber after only 3 hours of sleep.

Guess why!!?!?

To go to CHURCH!

Know what happens when you wake up a grumpy, ill, atheist, put her in uncomfortable "church" clothes and make her sit through the most awkward and dreary two hours of "I done so wrong and Jeeesus is pissed but he loves me anyways 'n I shure don't deserve it, oh Lawd, can you puhleeze fergive me and now let me sing to you some of the most depressing music you'll ever hear"?????

My Sunday. That's what you get.

I never understood why someone would be "militant" about something. That's why, even though I feel the way I do about religion, I would never ever in a million billion years have considered becoming a militant atheist.

Well, now I get it. I SOOOO totally get it.

Militant atheists probably don't get invited to church by their friends and family.

The dear people who invited us to church on this particular day, they mean the world to me. This certain day was extra special for one of them and they said it was so important to them for us to be there.

These same dear people asked me point blank, back in 2001, what church I attended. I politely explained I didn't. They wanted to know why. So I told them why. They said, "oh, that's alright, everyone is different."

I took that to mean they understood how I felt about church. I felt confident that I had explained my position on religion. For all I knew, on that day, it was made perfectly clear that myself and these wonderful people had different upbringings, different views and we were still cool with each other.

But over 8 years and a number of denied requests to attend church later... I'm starting to wonder if they didn't get the point.

Both of them were made aware back in 2001 that I was not looking for God but if I ever changed my mind, they'd be the first to know. Both of them assured me there would be no pressure. No attempts to convert me.

For the most part, they've stuck to that agreement. However, I have to wonder. Why keep inviting me to church???

It isn't like something happens there that a person like me wouldn't experience in Jesus-free settings. If I want to hear weepy awful music sang by a pleasant but off-key group of seniors in robes, I would go to a nursing home and host a singin-in-the-shower karaoke contest.

(BTW, why does there always have to be that one church lady who thinks she missed her calling to be on the stage of an opera as the star soprano and now she takes it out on everyone else in the church choir?) Whhaaaaaaaaaaaa Jeeeeeesssssuuuuuuuussssssss whaaaaaaaaaooooooaaaaa!!!!! Haaaaalllll-aaaaaaa-llllllooooooo-yyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! *BANG* (That's me, shooting myself in the ear.)

If I wanted coffee and donuts before a meeting where people cry, I would join a group therapy session that takes morning appointments.

If I wanted to sit in an uncomfortable chair while someone stands in front of me telling me how I do bad shit but they love me anyway, I'd go home, do something to piss off my mum then perch on a stool covered in thumb-tacks and listen to her chew my ass.

If I wanted to have my already suffering sinuses be put through torture by the smell of old, mothballs, furniture polish, dried flowers and too much stanky perfume, I'd visit Hobby Lobby on senior discount day on a July afternoon when the store a/c isn't working.

See? No church needed to experience any of the same church-things and I can do all of that shit minus Jesus stories... which in my opinion don't make a damn bit of sense anyway.

I don't know what Jesus really said. He didn't write any of that stuff in the bible. Other people did. And just as sure as I'm relating to you now the wretched things I went through this past weekend, if Mr. Buffie wrote the same story (cuz he was there through it all) I fucking assure you, his spin would be different than mine. So why should I have to trust what other uneducated people wrote down about shit they didn't understand in a time when there was no scientific thought put into much of anything and read a version of it that has been translated who-the-fuck-knows how many times by people who may or may not have been sticklers for accuracy and believe it's not only true but the like pinnacle of all truth in life? Uhm, no thanks.

Hey, if YOU wanna believe it, do it. More power to you. Oh please be my guest. And believe it with all your heart. Just don't ask me to believe it with you. Besides, your faith isn't affected by how I think, so don't worry about what is going to happen to my soul when I die. I'm not.

Now these people who invite me to church on a not-infrequent basis, they're usually rather understanding (as they should be) when I say no. They kind of make a squishy face and pretend to have momentarily forgotten the whole "Buffie doesn't do Jesus" thing. But lo and behold, they'll invite me again in another 6 months and we go through the confounded awkward mess all over again.

This one time though... I thought dammit, maybe they'll leave me the hell alone if I go just this once, and it should count in spades since it's a special occasion and all. Maybe this will make them happy and it'll be over with. I can consider it my good deed for the DECADE.

But no. No, no, no. Not not but no. Hell to tha no.

Now that I've gone this one time to appease them, I've been invited to come back by all the nice people there and even my dear (and I really don't say that sarcastically, I freaking love these people) friends (they're actually family) are inviting me again.

Listen, friends (technically relatives, but whatever, I consider you friends, too)... I adore you. I truly do. You're two of my favorite people in this whole world and I'd do damn near anything for you. Shit, I have gone to church for you. I'd almost rather set myself on fire than go to church, so appreciate that gesture for what it was. But ya gotta get it through your heads. This isn't something I care to repeat. Ever. I told you before, if I change my mind, I'll be all up in yer churchin. But that day hasn't come and if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath.

I know you two love Jesus and I am positive Jesus loves ya right back. I realize church is a huge part of your lives, but it isn't the ONLY life you have. Like it or not, we're family. That means I'm part of your lives, too. And you're both a big part of mine. A part I love and cherish. We do tons of stuff together and we have a blast and the other stuff we do doesn't make one of us horrendously uncomfortable. Can't we just keep doing those things? Why does it have to be church?

Tell you what, if you're going to insist on inviting me to church, I'm going to start inviting you to blues concerts and burlesque shows. I know loud music and scantily clad chicks shaking their asses isn't your thing but tit for tat, hey?

I'll even trade you one for one. For every time you go to a dive bar or a nudie show with me, I'll go to a meeting of the God Squad with you. Fair?

Getting my point now?

That's what I thought.

Since being a militant atheist isn't really my style, I'll just return your church invitations with requests for you to join me for cheeseburgers at the Shady Lady or I'll ask you to a Rumblejetts show.

Because I know you two love naked tits and raucous jams as much as I love bible time. (Holy shit! This blog is long.)

In the end, I learned that if only my weekend had more strippers, beer and rockabilly music, and less teens and apostles, it probably wouldn't have sucked such a huge bag of dicks.

People of Wal-Mart. They've got it. You WISH you had it.

2009-10-16T19:24:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, the People of Wal-Mart.

You know you've been there. It's ohkay. I have too. I've shamelessly laughed at and mocked them like the rest of you.

They're freaky. They dress funny. Some don't dress at all. There's fatness, oldness, red-neck-ness, and straight up hot-mess-ness.

But I was thinking today about them and I realized something that surprised me.

I mock them because I'm jealous.

They have something many of us wish we had or had more of... pure unapologetic moxy.

People of Wal-Mart are DOING what we all want to do but are too afraid. They dare to be only who they are and wear only what they want and drive vehicles that make big bold statements about the contents of their souls.

Can I say I have the cojones to wear this? Nope. Sure don't. Not to Wal-Mart. But this lady DOES have the guts. She is working her neon spandex and clearly doesn't give a flying bit of a shit what we have to say about it. She's sending us all a message. It's an important message.

She's telling us we don't decide what she wears. SHE decides what she wears and if she wants to wear a hot pink micro mini that's so tight she probably had to use non-stick spray to get into it, then fuck all, she's gonna do it. She's gonna do it and take her hot fat pink ass to Wal-Mart and haters be damned.

You know how that makes me feel? Jealous.

I totally envy attitude like that. I wish I had a fraction of it. Maybe some day I will.

One of these days I won't be hiding behind a computer and trolling PeopleofWalMart.com because I'll be out doing whatever the fuck I want and I won't give half a shit who has a problem with it.

And the next time I'm scoping out the recent posts on POWM, it won't be for giggles, it'll be for inspiration.

WARNING: Google May Cause Good Deeds.

2009-09-01T22:59:00.001-07:00

Like everyone knows who Byron Allen is, right? Y'know - he's that hack dude always who is always trying to break into showbiz?

That guy has been around forever, always on some late-nite low-budget quasi-entertainment/sports news comedy show starring him, written by him, produced by him, directed by him, edited by him?

I consider him just one step above an infomercial actor. Anyway, for laughs I Googled him. He's only got 1.3 million hits.

That made me feel bad for clowning on him so much. I had to make amends.

Hey Byron, let me make it up to you. "Byron Allen" There. Now you have 1.3 million & 1 hits.

Even his Wiki page is kinda sad... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byron_Allen

Geez. We should help this guy out. Everyone try to use "Byron Allen" in a sentence tomorrow. Let's see if we can give him a boost.

P.S.
*If you are reading this and thinking - "Duuude, I don't effing get that. Byron who?" Chances are you don't often suffer from insomnia and if you do, you have more options than local network TV to occupy your time.

P.P.S
*Dear Mr. Buffie, thank you for talking me into getting pay-TeeVee for the first time in 2004. I don't know how I ever lived without it. I also don't know how I managed to make it to age 22 before I had a television with a remote control. Additionally, I don't know why I am not getting up right now to retrieve the remote from your sound-asleep grasp to change the channel. I am further mystified as to why instead I have opted to watch Byron Fucking Allen again.

Did YOU do a good deed today? ~smugly looks around the room~

Buffie's Super Awesome Friday

2009-08-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

Fridays are usually awesome... just because they're Fridays, right? But do you every now and then have a SUPER awesome Friday?

I DO.

Today was a good example of one.

First bonus - weather was almost not hot.

Second bonus - got a lot done at work and am currently working on a fun project.

Next bonus - had excellent noms today with excellent peeps at lunch.

Bonus after that bonus - did a short workout but at least I was able to drag my ass to the Y.

Even one more bonus after that bonus - one of my favorite Pauly Shore movies is on TeeVee.

If I keep going I'm just bragging bonus - only thing left on my to-do list today.... chill with my kitty cats and Mr. B while he snores on the sofa. :D >He's not feeling great tonight, unfortunately. No, I don't think it's swine flu although I haven't ruled out Ebola virus.<

A bunch of other little righteous events occurred today but I don't want to gloat ...more than I already have.

Psst... what is this sound? *bzz*bzz*bzz*bzz Give up? That's me, sending Super Awesome Friday Vibes to the world! [Said in my best Jeremy Clarkson voice.)

People who don't watch Top Gear are not going to get that joke.

People who do watch Top Gear - High Fives! Yeah!

Ohkay, bye now.

Where is your line drawn?

2009-08-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

For example, on Twitter tonight, Tyson Ritter (meow) tweets "I have glitter on my dick" and I think to myself...

I don't know if that makes my happy place smile or not, but I DO know that the word "glitter" actually got my attention before the person who tweeted it did, even though he's dreamy (swoon).

Anyway, I have to give mad respect to the girlie girl who loves glitter so much she wears it on her hoo hoo... y'know, her "region" - and props for shagging Tyson Ritter, too. LoLz

Because even I draw the line at wearing glitter on my kaslopis.

Where is your line drawn?

^_^ I Don't Just Make This Stuff Up ^_^

2009-07-14T17:56:00.000-07:00

Long hours of careful research go into my ramblings here, so I hope you're paying close attention!

I would have 10 more useable hours in my day if I didn't have to spend so much time thinking about my boobs. Where are they; what are they doing; between my boobs and my bra, who is currently winning; is my undershirt showing? It's a full-time job chasing these dogs around the yard, I tell you what!

So next time you think about me and wonder what I'm doing... I'm boob wrangling.

Yeeeee Hawwwww!
~Buffie

http://Buffie.BigCuties.com/

All Aboad the Bipolar Express!

2009-06-26T14:09:00.000-07:00

If mood swings were amusement park rides, I would be more fun than Disney World.

Thursday was awesome. Friday I felt so... judged. -shudder- It was like high school all over again.

Have I ever mentioned how fucking awful high school was?

Back then, I didn't understand how much those people would ultimately not matter to me. It's not that I wanted them to like me and it's not that I agreed with their opinions of me. I just wanted them to leave me alone. To me, it wasn't asking for the world but I wanted so badly to be invisible to them. I figured people couldn't effectively attack what they didn't know was there.

They hated me for being fat. Put me down. Told me I should hate myself for it. Told me I needed to lose weight, change how I looked, change how I dressed, blah blah blah... They did it every single fucking day. Even physically assaulted me from time to time. Pushing me down, knocking my books out of my hands. They taught me how to hate, that is for sure.

Yesterday, I told a friend about going to my first HS reunion and how I never planned on going until Mr. Buffie talked me into and I just resisted the whole way there. Only stayed for 45 minutes, but in that time I learned a lot.

I learned that the people who really went out of their ways to treat me like shit were living miserable pathetic lives. Makes sense, they were miserable and pathetic in high school and zebras don't tend to change their stripes.

I also learned that we underdogs moved on and were stronger for surviving the experience. Seemed like most of us geeks, nerds and dorks are doing just fine.

The attempts to bring us down by the miserable, cruel and hateful ones didn't have much success. For me, it was motivation to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible and get on with life in a world where they didn't exist.

So far my plan is working. Hee hee hee.

Heads up to you "popular" mean kids in high school, those of you who think you're so damn cool and get a bang out of humiliating your less-than-trendy classmates ... enjoy it now because after graduation, it's all downhill for you. Next time you're at the gas station, take a good look at the person selling you cigarettes with your fake ID. That's you in 1 to 4 years and it will continue to be you until you die of loneliness or go to prison for your 5th DUI or defaulting on your child support, whichever comes first. If I were you (and I'm glad I'm not and never was) I'd be a little nicer rather than suffer the wrath that karma is going to rain down on your designer knock-off ass later.

Today I don't feel judged anymore. LoLz Glad that passed. Guess a distant memory came back to haunt me for a second and now it's gone. Eventually it won't even be a memory because if I keep trying really hard, I will someday kill those particular brain cells with prescription meds and lots of alcohol. Kidding! Only kidding. You guys know I don't drink that much. Ha!

The Toughest Girl Alive is also a Super Hero.

2009-05-30T09:34:00.000-07:00

I was first introduced do Candye Kane in 2002 back when Kansas City had an amazing historic blues venue called The Grand Emporium.

Had no idea who she was before that night, had no idea who I was there to see. Her band started playing and from behind the crowd this devastatingly gorgeous woman comes forward and onto the stage. Then out of her mouth comes a VOICE. A powerful, feminine incredible voice all full of soul, wisdom and sweetness.

And that's when I knew there was a new favorite in my music collection.

There's more to it than that though.

Not only is Candye blessed with a musical talent I can't help but envy - chick is hawt, ohkay. Slammin hot and like fully aware of it without apology. Same as me, she's a chunky monkey and she soooo gets it. She's been there - in this world where thin is perpetually in. Makes no difference to her. Same as me again, she loves herself for who she is and she appreciates the fact that she's beautiful. Hollywood whippets can go screw themselves. Starving to be skinny is for losers. Curves are beautiful. Curves and appreciating oneself is something to sing about! And she does and it's really neato!

Since that night at the Grand Emporium, I've had the good fortune to see her perform buches. I try to never miss her show when she's in town, or even near town.

Last night, I got lucky again, seeing her at Knuckleheads. Her current line-up (and my favorite thus far) includes adorable son Evan on drums (talented, just like his momma), Laura Chavez on guitar (another new favorite of mine), and Paul Loranger on bass (he was a perfect fit with the rest of them, awesome)!

Sadly, The Grand Emporium closed a couple years ago. (Big bummer.) For reasons I don't know. Knuckleheads has become a most suitable substitute though. The joint has a casual cool biker-y atmosphere. Crowds tend to be mature, relaxed, there for a good time. Not a shred of that icky meat-market-ness to the place at all.

So last night (and I had been looking forward to it for months) was a triple-hitter blues show with this keyboard player guy's band, a local band, and CANDYE!

Now if I may be less than complimentary for a moment, or several moments...

The show started nearly an hour late. I'm not sure, but I think the first band may have been being a bit diva-ish with the sound/stage set up. Not real certain why, but they took their sweet time getting started. Had it been a Saturday night, I don't think I would have cared, but dammit, it was Friday. I was up early that morning for work and a super late night was going to take more energy than I really had if they were going to drag ass like that.

That band was alright. Bleh. I equally have nothing horrible or fantastic to say about them. The keyboard guy and his guitarist both made pretty bizarre faces though. Kinda skeeved me out. Picture John Mayer's guitar faces except if John Mayer looked like either a Ramone or a miniature Steve Perry. Either way - gross.

Then bit by bit, a local band started to join the first band on stage. Some dear friends have been telling me for weeks what a super group this local one is. So it might have been a bit unfair, but I had high expectations. Much. Too. High.

The local guitar player first joined the first band for a song. Competent player, but zero charm. A fully pedestrian performance. Then comes the singer, who is also sister to the guitar player. Competent singer, but zero charm. (Starting to notice a pattern?)

Now I realize style has no bearing on musical ability, and Candye Kane is not only a tough act to follow, but a very difficult act to precede as she has style for miles... and miles and miles and miles. Her fabulous style is only outdone by her tremendous talent.

The glaring lack of X-factor by both the first band and the local one made the wait to see Candye ugh so tiresome.

Once the locals were on the stage just the three of them, things went from tedious to nerve-grating in a hurry. They seemed to think they were headlining. Some of their fans were also INSANELY RUDE. Almost all the front row tables were reserved for their family and friends. That's bullshit, yo. They are /local/. Their family and friends can see them anytime, any night, anywhere around Kansas City. They don't need to reserve the entire front row all the way around the stage. That space should have been for Candye fans or at the very least first-come-first-served.

The local band had special guest washboard lady join them for a number of songs. I saw washboard lady jam with Candye once a couple years ago. Cute little chick can really whip that washboard but in total honesty, I'd rather hear her play bongos or something.

Because our locals were having such a good little time with themselves and their washboard friend, they decided to do EXTRA SONGS. Isn't that nice? Since the show started late and all, and since the entire front row (who also arrived an hour late) was there to see the local kids, and since the kids seemed to think they were final act of the evening, let's just do 3 or 4 extra songs since none of the rest of the crowd had to get up early that morning or anything and obviously no one came to see Candye anyway................................. not.

I was really disappointed. I wanted to like them. I truly did. They came so highly recommended by some very good friends and now I'm going to hope for the next two or three weeks that said friends don't ask my opinion... because I don't want to say anything bad.

The most complimentary way I can describe them is - If Donny and Marie Osmond cloned Donny to make a trio, then took away that Osmond sincerity but kept the capable musicianship - add some rude fans (who didn't have enough space in their front-row reserved area and seemed to think the laps of myself and my friend made suitable seats) and you've got our local group. See what I mean? If you can't say anything nice... well... then you just can't say anything nice even when you try to say something nice.

Perhaps had I not been there to see Candye and perhaps if it hadn't been dragging on for so miserably long and perhaps if I hadn't been expecting so much more and perhaps if it had been a different venue where the family-reunion-talent-show schtick fit better... I don't know. Sometimes people just don't dig something. Doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it. Just not a certain person's flavr. That band is not mai flavr.

The family band thing is cute, but it's maybe a little too cutesy (their version anyway) for blues. When you do blues, you need to exude a genuineness and they just didn't to me. It was like reading a book on blues how-to then saying "oh, I can do that." Blues comes from the soul, their blues seemed to come from ... a book. Sigh. (Will refrain from further discussing them or their cutesy "let's all do a shot and recite a little gimmick saying" ritual or their obnoxious front-row peeps. Popularity doesn't mean shit. The Jonas Brothers are hella popular, but that doesn't equate to a person having to like the Jonas Brothers based on the sole fact that they're popular.)

Finally, three and a half hours later, I got to see Candye. It was completely worth the wait, completely worth suffering through the first two bands, completely worth having two ding-bat women sitting in front of me, inching ever closer through the night and bumping (at some points slamming) into my friend and me countless times.

Candye is back and more badass than ever after kicking the shit out of cancer last year. Some people have talked BS and junk on her for losing weight but so the fuck what?! Hey assholes, Candye Kane is MORE than a number on a scale. I don't care how big or small she is, she will always be a sincere and generous bringer of good vibes and a bearer of all that is inspiring about the blues - songs that touch you emotionally, songs that come right out of her soul and through to my happy little ears by way of her most awesome voice and righteous band.

This new guitar player of hers, Laura Chavez... hot damn what chops! The kind of chops that could make someone become really arrogant because they're so good there's no way they can't know how fucking good they are. Not a gram of arrogance in her. She is, to me, like... if Stevie Ray Vaughan came back to life as a cute chick from California. Yeah, I said Stevie Ray Vaughan. Because she's /that/ good.

Evan, Candye's son/drummer, he started great and he gets better every time. Sometimes I wonder if talent is genetic. In his case, it must be.

Her bass player is apparently no stranger to music from what I've read, but this was the first time I've seen him. Paul Loranger. Not only did he look adorable in his bowling shirt, he did what all the greatest bass players do - fit in with the rest of the band to make most excellent music type noises. Holla!

Did I mention this is my favorite Candye line-up yet? I think I did. But it's tooootally worth saying again.

I wish I could have stayed for the entire show but I was so thoroughly worn out. It had been a very long day. My dear patient friend who had never experienced Candye was a super trooper, sticking with me through the late start of the first band and the stage-hogging of the second act and the bugs! I forgot to mention the bugs and the cotton fuzzies everywhere. Ewww!!!

One fuzzy even went up my nose. Aaak!

After enjoying Candye for shamefully too short of a time, we did have to go though. My friend is a jewel for driving me there and I didn't want her to be completely dog ass tired driving us home through the onslaught of drunk drivers.

Candye is playing again soon in Omaha and Chicago. Maybe if I'm super nice to Mr. Buffie....

YOU - GO SEE A CANDYE SHOW.

Here's the scoop = Click Me!!! Click ME!!!!!!!!!

The glass is half empty? The glass is half full? Doesn't matter, I just need enough to swallow this pill...

2009-05-19T20:55:00.001-07:00

So things can't be as bad as we think or hear about on the news, right?

No. They can't.

Why? Because we live in a world where Beavis (*the* Beavis) has a Wiki page. True story.

Speaking of Beavis... now stay with me, because this is a winding path... I was forced, no - I was tortured into watching Barrett-Jackson again tonight. The noises, I hear them in my sleep. Heeebiitttdy hebitty heb heb heb Thirty Three ammaw maw maw maw Forty Three four five five five awtibbity tibitty bitty bitty bitty Hum Hum Hummmmmmm SOLD!

*hork*

I ~heart~ cars. I la la la loathe Barrett-Jackson.

It's the most unwatchable thing in the history of TeeVee and it is a big shiny symbol of the impending ruination of the muscle car hobby at the hands of rich assholes who buy them up and turn them into museum pieces. That is NOT where muscle cars belong. Nor do they belong on trailers. If they run, if they have good rubber then _drive_ the son of a bitch. That's why it's cool.

Anyway, Beavis is prone to kicking Butthead in the nads unprovoked. So I Twitter-Vowed to kick the auction jerkwad in the jewels if I ever meet him. Not only because I hear his obnoxious chattering in my sleep, but also because I completely dislike his role in taking my dreams of owning a Panther Pink Hemi 'Cuda away from me.

Which brings me to jewels and having a healthy sense of entitlement... Some chick was on the news tonight bitching and crying because Medicaid wouldn't pay $200 to have her abscessed tooth removed. So she ended up with all these problems. Wah wah wah. She says this and she's sitting in a nice home, and wearing gold rings and a gold necklace and nice clothes. She can afford bling-bling but she needs $200 of tax dollars to pay for her tooth??? Honey, get your priorities in order. You don't look physically or mentally challenged to me, get a job.

I shouldn't watch the news.

I shouldn't watch Barrett-Jackson either. Unfortunately, it was Mr. Buffie's turn to use the remote tonight. ...sigh...

Useful stuff folks. You'll be glad to know these things should you ever find yourself on Wheel of Fortune or COPS.

Is she really going /there/? Oh yes. I am SO going there.

2009-05-15T15:26:00.000-07:00

I came across this Gallup article and my hide is so totally chapped.

Apparently now more Americans are "pro life" than "pro choice" for the first time. My question is WHY????
http://www.gallup.com/poll/118399/More-Americans-Pro-Life-Than-Pro-Choice-First-Time.aspx

Why are our choices being diminished so much? (Not that Roe v. Wade has been overturned yet, but I fear it could be within my lifetime and a shame that will be if it does happen.) What the hell is wrong with people? Why do they think they should be allowed to make certain decisions for OTHER people? That just pisses me off. Consenting adults, as long as ALL parties with whom they choose to involve themselves are consenting adults, should be allowed to do with their bodies as they please.

Some would say, "oh, it's ohkay if she was raped or if it was incest." So a woman can cross those dirty rotten pro-life picket lines and say "I was raped" and they'll leave her alone? Really? Will she have to /prove/ she was raped? What if she doesn't WANT to press charges? What if she doesn't want to admit to incest? Why make her go through that to terminate an unwanted pregnancy?

How about the pro-life picketers mind their own business? How about the pro-life picketers line up at the orphanage to take care of those children? I mean, if it is really all about the children, then that would be very effective, wouldn't it? For the pro-life zealots to go take care of kids who NEED a parent... Oh... but that would mean putting up or shutting up and that is just not the zealot way.

Dear Governmental control freaks and Religious Right assholes, stay out of my business and I'll refrain from kicking you in the shins.

Best wishes,
~Buffie

PS... I am soooo tagging this as advice because if any zealot happens to read this, I want them to take mine!

Nice Chevelle.

2009-05-02T20:10:00.000-07:00

Mr. Buffie says - Our garage is full, you can't keep them all and something has to go.

So I stand in the door and admire my little collection.

There's Billy Idol, my badass white Z28.

There's Bart, Mr. Buffie's '62 Dart.

There's the Yeti, our junky truck.

There's a RX7 that's a project car we don't plan to keep.

There's Hubert Cumberdale, my Jaguar XJR.

and there's Josie, my most awesome of all, the '69 Olds Cutlass.

I've been struggling with this decision since last month, when he asked me if I wanted another Jag. (Like, hello! Who says no to that?!?!) So I've known for a while I was going to be making a choice between Billy Idol and Josie.

Unfortunately, I picked Josie. ~cry~

She's awesome, so very awesome. But Billy does get somewhat better gas mileage and let's face it, fuel injection is boss. But Josie has more soul. You can't put a value on that.

However, Billy Idol has airbags and shoulder seat belts, plus he's got a bitchin sound system (that I use responsibly because disturbing the peace is fucking rude, yo)... so there are advantages. Besides, almost every time I drive Josie, it never fails someone comes up to me and says "I like your Chevelle".

Gah! Chevelle??? Are you serious?

Oh, tonight even... Mr. Buffie took Josie to a local car show to see if any of our friends would be interested in buying her (a few are so I think she will go to a good home). And he came back and said some fellow walked up and asked him "what year is your Chevelle?"

At a car show.

A CAR SHOW!!!!

Normally, the "nice Chevelle" comments happen at the bank or the gas station where random vehicularly-challenged people are. You don't expect those people to be at a car show.

Moses.

Have I mentioned how glad I am that Friday is over. My Friday sucked so bad. Ugh. Thursday was pretty awesome. Had a delicious Thai dinner with a good friend I haven't seen in almost a year. Love her ten tons and we laughed so hard all night I went home sore.

Friday on the other hand, blah. Started off wonky because I have damaged yet another toe. In the middle of the night, as usual, get up to go pee and tripped over the ottoman at the foot of my bed.

The next morning, Mr. Buffie - ever the nurturer (not) - says "I read a statistic a couple years ago that most home injuries happen because of furniture at the base of the bed and that it's the worst place to put furniture..." Oh. Nice. Thanks. So helpful. That ottoman has been there for 8 or 9 years and he's telling me this just now. MEN!

So I limped around all day at the office. My toe is purple and puffed up and it still hurts but it's getting better.

The day was busy which usually doesn't bother me, but I had constant interruptions which really makes me crazy in my head. I felt like I couldn't get any one thing accomplished and having 14 half-finished projects going on all day made me feel like the wheels were spinning but I wasn't getting anywhere. Even stayed at work until almost 7 p.m. and took paperwork home just trying to wrap up the last of the tasks because who wants to walk in on Monday to a bunch of shit waiting for you? Not me.

Worst part of Friday? Someone tried to tell me they knew me better than I know myself. Locked my gears clean up. Kinda hurt, if I'm being honest. Over it now, but at the time it was like - ouch, that came outta nowhere.

Bygones! It's Saturday and life is goooood. I have a nice Chevelle (ha), kitty cats, Mr. Buffie, delicious tacos for lunch-slash-dinner (I ate at 4, what do you call a meal at that hour when you're under the age of 63?).

I just did Versa Spa at the tanning salon. It's the kickass spray tan shit that moisturizes you, bronzes you, then blows you dry! WIN!

Bleached my teeth, painted my toenails, did several mundane domestic things, took some pills for my ouchie toe and now I'm looking forward to tomorrow because I am going to go get my nails done, maybe touch up my hair, brush the cats, work on my website and place a Mary Kay order. Yay fun! Don't I sound super exciting??? -poke poke- WAKE UP, hellllooooooo...

Don'tcha wish yer Chevelle was hot like mine?

Oh my god, oh my god you guys!

2009-04-28T21:14:00.000-07:00

Legally Blonde - The Musical

I'm SO there! It's coming to Kansas City in June and July and Mr. Buffie, the consummate good sport, is going to take me. Awww!

(Don't exert yourselves giving him props just yet ladies. Because he did, however, say he refused to "suffer through" Mamma Mia a second time. Wuss.)

http://www.kcstarlight.com/broadway_...e_musical.aspx

Anyone have the pleasure of seeing this tour of Legally Blonde yet?

Unfortunately, it won't have Laura Bell Bundy as Elle, but at least it won't have that dreadful Bailey Hanks either. (On the MTV search for Elle Woods, she was the absolute /least/ like Elle of anyone. Catty, snide, so not cute... and that speech impediment killed me.)

If my sources are correct, there's even a possibility that Lauren Zakrin will be playing Elle during some of the Kansas City shows. Keep your fingers crossed that it's the one I see! She was my favorite from the MTV search.

Oh my god, oh my god you guys!!!! Snaps! I'm so excited!

Totally Moving My Blog from MySpace to a more "grown up" place.

2009-04-23T17:44:00.000-07:00

Don't worry. I'm not getting all mature or boring on ya peeps. My extra dumb MySpace blog sometimes gets weird, so I'm moving it here. No big whoop.

The next several posts will be old entries that I transfer here.

XOXO,

~Buffie

Buffie's Most Very Helpful Tip of the Day! Adjust Yer attitoood. 15Apr09

2009-04-15T19:24:00.000-07:00

PMS? Irritation? World getting on your last effing nerve?

Here, I fix for you. Follow instructions:

You'll need 5 minutes.
The internet.

Mix the above ingredients with the following (whatever just do it!):

Garfield Minus Garfield. _No, I didn't stutter._

You can has LoLcat.

Cute things falling asleep. No, srsly, it's cute things falling asleep!

At end of 5 minutes, cobb, stick or head, whatever is rammed up your ass and screwing up yer attitude, it fall out. All better. Please pay at front desk.

Thank you.

Did "God" tell them personally or something? 06Apr09

2009-04-06T19:23:00.000-07:00

The laundry was finished. Ate dinner. The dishwasher was loaded and running. Trash taken out. Surfaces wiped down. Kitty box changed. Too late to hit the grocery store. Finished the work I brought home from the office.

It's official. I literally had nothing better to do.

So I started digging around on YouTube. First looking at some ghost thing that was supposed to be funny. It wasn't. In the 'related videos' thing, I looked at something about Sylvia Browne. She's looney but is probably a lot of fun when she's drunk.

One thing led to another and next thing you know, I'm watching a video of Nut Job Shirley Phelps on a Fox show trying in vain to defend herself.

[~shudder~ I feel like I need to take a shower.]

She has to fall into one of 4 categories.

1 - Severely mentally ill (possibly due to inbreeding - have you /seen/ the Phelps family?)
2 - Massive attention whore (could be a combination of 1 and 2.)
3 - There must be some secret way they make money off this.
4 - A little bit of all of the above.

The conversation eventually turned to "sin" and how god is "punishing" the USA for accepting gay people.

She used the term "because we don't obey" a lot. Obey what? The bible? What about people who DO obey? What if they die in the war? Is that cool, too? Are they going to protest that funeral like all the others?

(For the record, Buffie does not subscribe to the Bible, but that doesn't mean I don't think about religious stuff or have curiosity. Just not my personal belief... thing.)

Now if I am going by Shirley Wacky Ass's description of sin - the following things are bad:
Being gay.
Accepting gay people.
Having gay friends.
Doing anything related to gay-ness and not hating the shit out of it.

On the other hand, according to Shirley Phucktard, the following things are NOT bad:
Protesting a funeral for a soldier who gave their life for our freedoms.
Trying to make a stranger feel like shit for being at said soldier's funeral.
Calling someone a "bimbo" (she did on Fox) or a "pervert" (she has on a crap ton of other shows).
Having snaggly disgusting hair and freaky gross horse teeth.
Excessive use of sarcasm in the name of the Lawd.
Oh... and apparently the word "ass" isn't a swear because she uses it a lot and she must think she's all perfect and junk because that bible book says people who don't sin are the ones allowed to throw rocks at other people.

Yeah.

That's what I learned. Fascinating.

Wait. It gets better.

She says her "church" isn't supposed to be popular. She says the bible says people are supposed to hate her church. To that I say - Mission Accomplished!

Crazy cunt actually got one right. Whaddaya know?

I'm still not real sure what the goal of the Westboro Psycho Klan Church is supposed to be because no one could get the ignorant bitch to stop ranting long enough to answer a question directly. Anyone got a clue on this one? (No sarcasm or weird answers that are actually questions, please. I got enough of that from the spaz hag herself.)

Also, does anybody else suspect that Phred Phelps himself started the whole "god hates fags" thing because he is (unfortunately for gay people everywhere) in the closet and scared of being judged for being gay? Just sayin... insecurity is often the root of over-compensation.... think about it.....

There you go. That's how I spent my evening. And that's about all the time I think I can devote to something as worthless and insignificant as those Phelps douchebags in Topeka. Let's just hope they stay the hell there. Other people in Topeka, you might want to move elsewhere.... I know I would.

This is was inbred ignorant hate looks like:

One Peep Over the Line 26Mar09

2009-03-26T19:21:00.000-07:00

Having grown up like I did... in a family that just doesn't do organized religion... Easter doesn't mean the same thing to me as it does a lot of other people. And it isn't a judgmental statement or a bad thing, it's just what it is.

To give you an idea of Easter in the Buffie Family, my mum sent me a card this week. It's says "It's not Easter 'til there's plastic grass coming out of the cat's butt."

Get the picture? LoL

My friend was talking about Peeps yesterday. It's been soooo long since I've had Peeps. So on the way home from work last night I got some at CVS. A package of 10. Chicks. Yellow.

They were all gone before dinner today.

Spent most of the afternoon in a nervous sweat, vibrating like a cold Chihuahua. Not pretty. I did not, surprisingly, literally climb the walls, but I think I might know why people who are high on PCP always take off their clothes, climb a building and end up on COPS. It's been a ... day. It's been a day. That's all I can really say about it because I don't remember a whole lot other than dusting yellow-dyed sugar off my boobs and licking marshmallow off my fingers.

This is your brain. This is your brain on Peeps.

My cat's got knees. 24Mar09

2009-03-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

If you cannot count to ten, please watch this instructional video from our friends at RatherGood.com and learn.

My cat's got knees.

Guess I /could/ actually follow through - for once. 19Mar09

2009-03-19T19:17:00.000-07:00

This is the blog I was going to post last night until I decided not to. (Why I decided not to is irrelevant.)

I was massively pissed off when I wrote it (can you tell? LOL). And even though I think it's generally a bad idea to perpetuate negativity, there are times when a girl has had just about all she can take. Saturday night was one of those times.

Do I think it will ever change? No, not really. I don't think the day will come when I can go where ever I want and never have to encounter this kind of thing again. We just don't live in that kind of world.

I do feel like I've kept my mouth shut about it so many times, that I owe it to myself to try something different. Instead of ignoring it like I usually try to do, the other day I decided to face it as head on as I can and say what I've always wanted to say, but didn't out of manners and crap.

The best policy for dealing with bullies, idiots and assholes is to ignore them. Really it is. I learned that a long time ago. To acknowledge they even exist is often more than they deserve. But you know how it is, gotta mix it up sometimes. Got to go against the status quo and scream when you should be whispering.

So here goes.

(Oh... I apologize in advance for being a downer. I'll make up for it next time and blog about wack stuff that isn't so forking serious! *SMOOCHIES*)

Dear Mizzou Losers at El Maguey on Saturday night,

Yes, I did hear you. So warning each other to “not be so loud about it” was just about the most pointless thing you could have done. And considering the source, that’s saying volumes because you all probably lead lives that are defined by pointlessness.

Fat people, contrary to what you may think (if you’re even capable of thought) are not always deaf. In fact, some of us hear exceptionally well. Especially when a table full of drunken fuckups out on the town and without dates (not surprising) is loudly expressing distaste at the sight of a large woman trying to enjoy a nice meal with her husband and her father.

Be thankful, useless losers, that my dad didn’t hear you. I am thankful for that myself because I would hate to see him go to jail for beating you the way you likely will be someday when you’re in prison. Be thankful, buttfuckers, that my husband didn’t hear you, because he can inflict nastiness on a vehicle that no army of mechanics could un-do. Be thankful none of you are worth their time.

Perhaps I sound like a scorned person blowing off steam from the comfort of the internet. In some ways, I am. But keep in mind that _I_ am not the one who talked shit on _you_ then hid behind menus and snickered like a bunch of ill-mannered 8 year-olds. I am not the one who can’t act right in the company of others. I am not the one who makes my parents ashamed of me. I am not the one who is an embarrassment to be seen with in public.

I’m talking major shit on you right now and owning every last bit of it. Not anonymously, not trying to hide it, not attempting to disguise myself in any way. Brave enough to respond? Please do. I am actually interested to know why you hate fat people.

Did a fat person do something to you personally in your past and you’re too ignorant to know that it isn’t necessary to hate all fat people due to the actions of one individual? If that’s the case, did their fatness somehow play a part in the way they allegedly wronged you? I fucking dare you to answer that question fully and completely. Prove me wrong. Show me that you can articulate an answer. Demonstrate that you can justify your actions. Go for it. My email is BigCutieBuffie@yahoo.com. Leave a comment on my blog if you want. I’ll post it for everyone to see. Or do I have bigger balls than you?

Do you hate fat people just because you’re too backwoods stumpwater college puke drunk immature and stupid to think for yourself and because Hollywood says thin is in, you can’t see beyond it? You don’t have the energy or the impetus to have an open mind or independent beliefs? Are you too lazy to formulate your own opinions? Enquiring minds sincerely want to know.

Know why I’m above you? Let me spell it out – I hate you almost as much as you hate me. The difference is – I didn’t hate you until you gave me a reason. You hated me just because you had nothing better to do and a mind too small to do anything about it. The other difference is, I am telling you why I hate you. Had I not been concerned about the legal ramifications for my husband and my dad defending me, I would have told you right then and there what I’m telling you now. However my love for my family comes leaps, bounds and miles before my desire to try and straighten out backwards-thinking ignorant bastards like you.

Next time you pull some hateful shit like that on a stranger in public, I hope it isn’t someone with as much will power as me. I hope you mess with a fat person who is angry, armed and unstable; and I hope they unleash a wrath on you that even your next door neighbor will never forget. I also hope that I am never in the same county as you pathetic turds, but if I am, I do hope you’re still as dumb as you are now and I hope I get to witness the lot of you receiving much deserved bruises, busted lips, black eyes and bloody noses.

Try dressing better or growing up and maybe you won’t be having date-less dinners with your worthless friends so much.

May you all succumb to STDs and intestinal parasites.

Truly,
Buffie

PS... I don't know if you pukes really attend school at Mizzou or not, but several of you were wearing Mizzou shirts. So if you don't really go there, then you're totally regoddamnedtarded for spending money on the clothes. LaLaLaLame!

I was going to post a new blog tonight. 18Mar09

2009-03-18T19:16:00.000-07:00

But I changed my mind.

Mr. Buffie Doesn't Do. 26Feb09

2009-02-26T19:15:00.000-08:00

Our friends like to tease Mr. Buffie about his penchant for being particular. When it comes to food, music, cars, clothes, computers, anything. You name it, he can name something about it he doesn't like.

So I started making a list of things Mr. Buffie Doesn't Do.

Here we go.

Mr. Buffie doesn't do:

Raw green vegetables.
Prince music.
Fords.
America's Next Top Model.
Dogs.
Sauces containing vinegar.
Domestic beer.
Madonna.
Thunderbirds.
Fancy trucks.
Onions.
Led Zeppelin.
Pet rodents.
Wool.
Flip flops.
Turtlenecks.
Whole milk.
Taco Bueno.
Cold weather.
Starbucks.
Calvin Klein fragrances.
Bratwurst.

Dave Matthews' voice.
Ape-hanger handlebars.
Small boobs.
Folding laundry.
Modern interior design.
Garlic.
Tuners.
Microsoft products.
Negotiating for "car lengths" on Pinks.
Fringed jackets.
Facial piercings.
Text messages.
Economy cars.
Memphis style BBQ.
Celine Dion.
Lolcats.
Cold sandwiches.
Cigarettes.
Abstract art.
Diets.
Hi-top sneakers.
Wood working.
Chocolate chips in his ice cream.
Yoga.
Punk music.
Diet cola.
Pickles.
Sports on TV.
Make up tutorials on YouTube.
Any kind of pr0n with a 'core'.
Card games.
Sushi.
Supreme pizza.
Instant messaging.
Port wines.
Jeopardy.
Honky Tonk songs.
Incense.
Sleeping in.
Shiatsu.
Gardening.
Pie ala mode.
Spin Magazine.
Alfredo sauce.
Cole slaw.
Persian cats.
Shrimp scampi.
Anything on the Oxygen channel.
80's era Corvettes.
Wax museums.
Gangsta rap.
Church.
Broccoli and cheese soup.
Running.
Video games.
Finches.
Chip dip.
The Bee Gees.
Foreign films.
Salad dressing.
Cake with ice cream.
Line dancing.
Bleu cheese.
Baseball cards.
Bagpipes.
Horseback riding.
French cuisine.
Refrigerated peanut butter.
Pimp My Ride.
Anime.
Bow hunting.
Religious films.
Pointy toe shoes.
Pinkie rings.
European Techno music.
Science fiction novels.
Body building.
Turkey burgers.
Brticoms.
Chevelles.
Competitive ice skating.
Math.
Electric cars.
Zealots.
Rob Thomas as a solo artist.
and
Cigars.

The end.

Original Sin - How it /rilly/ happened. 14Feb09

2009-02-14T19:14:00.000-08:00

I'm not all that "schooled" on religion if I'm being honest with you. However I know enough to get by... LOL I'm pretty sure I know the story of original sin. But feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

There was this snake, and I guess it was actually the devil in a snake suit. And there was this tree that Eve wasn't supposed to mess with because God said "Gurrrrl, don't even."

But the snake says, "Hey Eve, twigs and leaves taste like shit. Eat one of these red shiny things instead."

And she did. God was pissed.

The End. =)

Or something like that, right?

Well, here's my interpretation of how the thing really went down. Eve was hungry, k? There was no Taco Bueno back then. No take out from Buffalo Wild Wings. Like what would YOU do? I know what I would do.

Sinfully Yours,
~Buffie

http://Buffie.BigCuties.com

http://www.Twitter.com/KittyBuffieKat

Buffie Wastes a Minute of Your Time. 12Feb09

2009-02-12T19:13:00.000-08:00

I warned you.

(Thank you Conan O'Brien and your friend Frankenstein, for the neato idea!)

That's all I'm saying about that.

No secret that I dig junk TV, right? We all know this, yes? Ohkay. Oddly enough, even I have television standards.

Who gives a shit about the Kardashians, really? /Really./ ...

Also, what is going on lately with the tabloid shows and Jessica Simpson's "weight" or Mischa Barton's lack thereof? Which one is it, Hollywood? You have to make a decision on what sizes are acceptable because you're fucking annoying everyone.

Earlier tonight, Charo was in a sound deep kitty cat sleep on Mr. Buffie's lap. Whimsey was sitting next to me on the ottoman, enjoying having her chin scratched. Since she was being a nice kitty and also because Charo is bad at taking turns, I decided to try and sneak Whims a little kitty nip.

Veeeeery q u i e t l y I opened the lid. Silently shook some out for Whimsey. Tried to put the lid back on making less noise than a mouse going pee pee on a pillow, but Charo's ears *instantly* turned right to me. I was busted so fast.

You can't sneak up on a cat. And if you do, it's just dumb luck. Even a kitty so fast asleep that the electronica channel on the sat rad won't make her twitch a whisker knows the sound of the catnip tub being opened and closed.

=)

And now Buffie has wasted a moment of your time.

Buffie's Useless Tip of the Day! 29Jan09

2009-01-29T19:12:00.000-08:00

Shells and cheese do not re-heat. You get just one chance. Only one shot with shells and cheese... so make it count.

That's kind of a metaphor for life, eh? Wow, I'm so like philosophical and junk....

x_X

... Dude, Mr. Buffie fell asleep watching Adult Swim on the cartoon channel, which is kinda unusual for him because as far as I know, we still get the Speed channel. Anyway, there's some stop-motion animation show on and it is... different. I know I haven't smoked any pot, but now that I'm watching this show, I'm not entirely sure.

They just showed the Incredible Hulk peeing in Wonder Woman's kitchen sink.

W

T

F

?

So we all caught fat flu? Fox doesn't even try to hide the fact that they're haters. 26Jan09

2009-01-26T19:11:00.000-08:00

Excuse me while I preach to the choir...

Found this while perusing Fox News online. (I literally had nothing better to do.)

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,482788,00.html

Apparently getting fat IS contagious. Wait til the size-phobes and Mike Huckabee get a hold of this. We'll all be quarantined and forced to eat nothing but steamed soy beans and bran flakes until we're "cured" of our infectious fattedness.

And on the same page is this story… http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,483204,00.html

Jessica Simpson gained 3 ounces!!!! A sure sign of the apocalypse!

Maybe she caught the fat flu?

I realize this is Fox News… not exactly the height of reputable reporting right? But there are people who read this stuff and think it’s Gospel. Even people who write and propose legislation. It’s dangerous when a major media outlet hypes something like fat being contagious.

Am I a scientist? No. Not even in my fake life. But you'd be better off trying to convince me the world is flat than trying to make me believe one iota of this story. Not buying it, not even as a possibility.

Bet you a dollar if we follow the funding behind this "research institute", we’ll find Slim-Fast or some other diet giant behind it.

http://www.opensecrets.org/lobby/cli...esearch+Center

Ah, well... look at that.

Nice try, Jenny Crank and NutriShitstem cronies. At least you took a shot at fear mongering from a different angle. Clever. Very clever.

BTW, Fox what did fat people do to piss you guys off today? Did you accidentally hire someone from Glamour Magazine for your news staff or something? Wackos.

Holy gawd, I did it again! 25Jan09

2009-01-25T19:08:00.000-08:00

You'd think burning your boob with a curling iron is something you only have to do one time before you figure out it's smart to wear a more than a bra when doing your hair.

/You'd think..../

Apparently I'm not that smart.

Friday, I did it again! Dropped a hot curling iron on my boob! Different side this time. Left a mark. Hurts... awesome. Not.

To make myself feel better, I looked at the interwebs. Randomly found a crazy hot pic of Jason Wade, with whom I have a semi-unhealthy fixation. Dreamiest guy since Simon LeBon, amen he is.

I might be able to post it here. Let me see if I have any special blog skillz... (I can't remember how I posted the pic last time. LOLz)

He's even holding a puppy. Epic Swoon. -----sigh-----

^_^

The zombies... drive Chevy Cavaliers. 29Oct08

2008-10-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

Let me disclaim. Which really isn't fair because I don't want to seem like I'm avoiding ownership of my opinion. That isn't the case. I am personally accountable for what I say, whether it's popular or not. But I don't want to come across as more snotty than I really am.

Truth be told, I'm not that stuck up. Only a little bit. Not so stuck up that I don't have friends. Maybe it isn't even actual stuckuppedness.

Off topic, I'm getting way off topic. Let's just say I am no more or less judgmental than the next person. Difference being that unlike a few, I admit it and I try to be objective and not think "oh I'm perfect and everyone else has problems".

I am not perfect and I don't ever try to be perfect. I am only myself. To add though, I am very very very most completely thankful that I am NOT a zombie and knock on wood, I hope to never become a zombie some day.

About these zombies.

I think that maybe they don't know they're zombies. I get the impression that the zombies think they're awake or alive. They're numb and unaware of the fact that the conscious people observe them drifting among us, thinking they're found but being dead lost.

Tonight I saw a zombie walking through the grocery. She had two or three young zombies with her, all aimlessly meandering throughout the aisles without a care as to staying on the proper path. In your way, in mine, no matter.

The zombies don't even know we are there. To see us is to acknowledge they're not the undead. Trip over them if you want. Sometimes you can't help but do that. Zombies are often unavoidable and cause you to stumble over them. Don't worry. They don't mind. They don't even realize they've had an encounter with you. Some of them may say "oops", "excuse me", or "sorry", but don't mistake this for anything but a zombie reflex. They're born with the ability to mimic certain traits shared by the living, but none of the things they do are borne out of conscious decision making.

In the parking lot, one of the living was hauling a long, heavy, bulky row of shopping carts back into the lobby. The zombies and their zombie children came floating out of the store, pushing their zombie carts full of zombie food, never once stopping to notice that when they walk 5 abreast, the poor cognizant human, huffing and puffing to shove the train of carts, has to perform Marvel comic like maneuvers to avoid crushing one of the lost zombie offspring.

But what can we, the living, the knowing, the aware, what can we do? The problem is so much bigger than we are.

Try as we do, what with anti-zombie legislation to keep them off cell phones when they're driving, or printing big bold warnings on things to prevent zombies from accidentally harming themselves... nothing ever helps. They still go to McDonald's and dump hot coffee in their laps. Unfortunately, injury usually jolts a zombie into sudden life and for reasons unknown to god and science, newly alive zombies tend to file lawsuits against the living.

Now about this disclaimer... I am pro-equality in very many ways. I think people should be treated fairly no matter what they look like, no matter who they sleep with (consenting adults only plz), no matter their spiritual trappings, no matter their socioeconomic status, blah blah blah.

But... where zombies are concerned. Well... I think I have to draw the line. I mean, I wouldn't have a problem with zombies having the right to vote, but since zombies ALREADY have the right to vote and they keep picking OTHER zombies to run things, this is obviously not helping any of us. The economy is in the shitter and frankly, almost all the mistakes can be linked directly to zombies and their zombie behavior.

Same thing about zombie marriage. I wouldn't mind if they had the right to marry other zombies OR other members of the living world. In fact, like voting, zombies already DO enjoy that freedom and you know what they're doing with it? Making MORE zombies. Data has shown that the zombie gene, ironically enough, is dominant over the gene for consciousness. So even if a zombie marries and reproduces with a non-zombie, the result will still be a zombie.

Zombies cause over 99% of traffic fatalities. The National Highway Study Committee of Very Smart People compiled reports of traffic accidents involving zombies for the last 20 years and the results were rock solid. Most zombie behavior is found to be dangerous when performed while driving. In fact, zombie behavior in and of itself is in direct opposition to the act of operating a motor vehicle. Almost every thing a zombie does, such as living with one's zombie head rammed clean up one's zombie ass, is impossible to do behind the wheel in a safe and responsible fashion.

Does this make me sound like some sort of Hitler? I hope not. Please don't misunderstand, I am NOT proposing any sort of zombie genocide, because that is clearly wrong. Zombies shouldn't be killed just for being zombies. They're dead already anyway... kinda. Pfft. Not really. I mean they're not /living/ but they're not /dead/ either. Technically, they're the "undead". So y'know, can you really kill a zombie? Besides, with their rate of reproduction, there's still no way to effectively and humanely control the zombie population.

Like cockroaches, we just have to deal with them. Although cockroaches actually serve a purpose. I'm trying to think if zombies have a purpose... Hrm...

Well, zombies do purchase zombie products which creates jobs for those who work in the zombie product manufacturing industry. Zombies also spend money on celebrity worship, fad diets, and craptacular made-just-for-money movie sequels, so I guess that's some sort of financial stimulation, although it seems to me a bit like a self-maintaining fire that doesn't do anything else but burn itself. Sort of pointless. Not exactly *my* idea of a 'purpose', but since we're talking zombies, I can't really use my personal standards by which to measure them. That's unfair to zombies.

In closing, I would like to say that world peace would be super. In order to achieve this, we're going to have to stop letting zombies make rules and we're also going to have to do something about the evil zombies, because there are a few.

But good luck with that last part, because it isn't like I have an actual plan or anything. I just felt like bitching about zombies. They annoy me.

The end.

If you don’t talk to your husband about Crocs, who will? 12Oct08

2008-10-12T19:05:00.000-07:00

I didn't even know. There were no warning signs. No indications he would ever go there.

But after witnessing him in this state for two days in a row, I'm just beside myself.

I didn't even know there was a reason to worry. I thought it was common sense. Don't put your hand in boiling water. Don't walk in front of a speeding train. Don't cover your ass in honey and sit on a fire ant hill.

There was a time, not that long ago, he even teased a guy at work who wore them. Like me, he would see them and say "damn those things are ugly". Why would I ever have reason to suspect?

It began with a suggestion from some of the people at the gym. His feet were getting torn up by the textured bottom of the pool during volleyball, and many of the seniors wear Crocs to protect their feet from the same thing. They suggested he get a pair.

Begrudgingly, he got some this week. He was so turned off to the idea that he wouldn't even try them on at the store.

We brought them home and they sat untouched until Thusday. He eventually tried them on and proclaimed that he finally understood the hype.

"These are really comfortable!" -- The words every wife hopes she will never, ever hear.

He hasn't even looked at his other shoes since then.

And if that's not enough to turn my world upside down.

He's now decided he likes cowboy hats.

WTF people. Is this what happens if a guy has a mid-life crisis but he already owns a sports car and a much younger wife? He goes fashional-ly insane?

We're not talking rock and roll cowboy hat ala 1999/2000. This is a Stetson in a nice muted shade of taupe. The kind of hat a cowboy would wear to a fancy restaurant in his clean boots and best pressed jeans. It's all perfect and I guess it's made out of beaver which is disgusting.

So help me. So help us all. So help him and the hair on his chinny-chin-chin if I catch him in the Stetson and the Crocs at the same time.

Let this be a lesson to you all.

If you don't talk to your husband about Crocs...... who will?

Do you really know what you think you know? 03Oct08

2008-10-03T19:04:00.000-07:00

I have fake boobs.

I have never lied about it. Never tried to deny it. Never been ashamed of it. Didn't con anyone to pay for them. Didn't hate myself before I had them. Didn't get them to fix a relationship or please another person.

I have fake boobs.

That's all. It's the same as saying I have long hair.

But for reasons unknown to me, there are some people who seem to think that my having fake boobs means a plethora of other things, such as:

I am shallow.

(Granted, I'm not "serious", but that doesn't equal shallow. I have depth, I just don't wallow around in a humor-less fog all the time.)

I am a gold-digger.

(If I'm a gold-digger, I'm damn bad at it. Mr. Buffie isn't exactly Trump and I work a full time job and two part time jobs and I'm a penny pinching nut when it comes to bills and crap.)

I am a slut.

(I don't even have a response for this. OMG, just ridiculous.)

I have a poor self-image.

(Pushaw! As if. LOL My ego is mostly checked, but I definitely don't look in the mirror and cry. Heck yes I think I'm cute! And what? What?)

I am desperate.

(Again, where to start with this. I don't get it. What do boobs have to do with desperation? I need a clue here.)

I am deceptive.

(Judging from the many TMI awards lining my mental shelves, I would have to say I /should/ try being a little deceptive, instead of sharing my business with the world. Maybe then I wouldn't get in so much trouble sometimes? But that's not my style. Sorry. I like to share far too much to be considered deceptive by any stretch of the definition.)

I am fake generally, inside and out.

(Again, I'm prone to goofy, fruit loopy mood swings but that's 100% Buffie - Not from concentrate. - Serious doesn't equal sincere any more than lack of seriousness equals fakeness.)

If I may speak freely for a moment.

The fact that some people have openly (thankfully not here) made these accusations about me because my boobs are silly-cone is ---

--- SUCH A CROCK OF BULLSHIT!!!!!

I don't know why this is bothering me because I have no reason to give a shit about a stranger's opinion, but I am soooo over it. And I'm over seeing other girls with fake boobs go through the same GARBAGE.

Here's the truth.

I have fake boobs.

Trust me, it really doesn't go any futher than that. There's no need to ASSUME you instantly know a dozen other things about a person based on ONE trait.

How often are assumptions really accurate?

Over time, we have learned that:

Making a negative assumption about a person's character based on their skin color is rarely accurate and there's really no correlation between skin color and behavior.

Making an assumption about a person's character because they're a member of a particular political affiliation is rarely accurate and there is diversity among the membership of almost any political party or group of people.

Making an assumption about anything based on only one piece of data is scientifically unsound and leaves the assume-er wide open to looking like a fucktard for popping off about what they *think* they know as opposed to what is fact.

I realize I am preaching to the choir. However I'm just not in the mood to argue this point with the people who believe I'm a slutty, shallow, gold-digging, lying bitch just because my boobs are purchased.

Therefore, to make things easy on myself, I thought I would just open a debate in a place where I am most likely to receive instant agreement with my perspective. LOL

I'm so clever and smart. It's because I have the fake boobies, y'know... ~winkies~

I don’t have like a "fancy" MySpace. Does that mean I’m square? 02Oct08

2008-10-02T19:03:00.000-07:00

Some of you have incredible MySpace pages. They're amazing. All I could manage to do was turn mine pink and include a bitchin Alice Cooper tune, which has mysteriously disappeared recently and I am not at all happy about that.

Also, did you know it's almost impossible to watch COPS or Wild Police Chase Videos while someone else is trying to sleep in the same room? It's very frustrating. Watching other people get in trouble has been a favorite passtime of mine since I was but a wee lass.

Don't know why. But I think it's because I like to think to myself "sucks to be them". Ha ha. I'm so smug. *I'm* not in trouble. Ha ha.

I'm really not like that, except on the inside. ~shifty glances~

Back to me.

It's about 1 am right now. I have insomnia and things to do and I like to have my junk TV on in the background because my attention span is too short to focus on any single thing, so I need a number of diversions in my rotation, which in a roundabout way keeps me productive. Don't call it adult ADHD, because I don't think I have that. Just call it... Attention Span Not Long Enough Syndrome.

Tonight happens to be Most Shocking (which is only a fancy name for police chase videos) on the TruTV (aka Court TV). Police and crooks both yell a lot. And cars make loud crunchy sounds when they hit stuff. If I turn the volume down enough so that the noises don't disturb Mr. Bufffie, then I can't hear the intense voice over guy describing the action. I tried closed captioning, but it covered up parts of the screen I needed to see and the shows don't really translate to text very well.

Poor Mr. Buffie. He's going to be grumpy in the morning.

Why I got off on that subject, I don't know. That isn't actually the reason why I am writing a little note here.

What I wanted to say is:

THANK YOU!

I am so appreciative of all the birthday hugs and cards and well wishes you've all so generously and thoughtfully given me. What a wonderful thing to experience. If only everyone were so lucky!

Thanks again and again. You sincerely have made me feel very special and very fortunate.

It has been your kindness that has kept me believing there is more positive in this world than negative. Some of you have never met me in real life and maybe don't know a thing about me at all, but you've taken the time to send me adorable notes and comments. How cool is that?

Of course my close friends have also done what they do so well, which is share their lives with me and let me know I am in their hearts just as much as they are in mine.

All things considered, life is pretty frickin sweet when you're me. ~winks~ No lie.

Not only have I been absolutely showered with excellent happy birthday vibes, I won $50 in the department jackpot today, plus I'm moving to an exciting new job with my company, and my mum and dad are going to visit over Turkey Day! Oh and I'm getting new nails and toes this weekend and I got my teeth bleached again last Saturday and I got some rad new fake eyelashes AND I had a coupon for them, can't wait to wear them. It gets better, I had catfish on Sunday and then last night I had the most delicious ribeye from Hereford House. Mmmmm... what else... there's too many more to mention. Now I'm just gloating. Gonna stop... Me so sorry.

Thank you all one more time for being just about the most kickass set of MySpace friends ever, even though my page is kinda ho hum.

((((EPIC HUGS))))

So what if his face hasn’t fallen off his head? 23Sept08

2008-09-23T19:01:00.000-07:00

First of all, why is it possible to change the date and time you post your blog? That's weird. This isn't a legal document or anything. What does it matter if you post at 3 am on Tuesday or if you post at 12 noon on Friday? Creepy.

Anyway, there's this movie out right now with Diane "Bland" Lane and Richard "Overrated" Gere. From the commercials, I'm deducing it takes place at some beach house in San Francisco and they spend time sighing, smiling, making cheesy innuendo, making out, having a little spat, then wandering off into the surf as the sun sets in the background. LLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE.

Who makes this shit? Who spends money to produce this tripe? Who watches this? Gag me.

Mr. Buffie says people probably like them because Richard Gere is still "good looking" for his age. To quote him, "At least his face hasn't fallen off his head."

Squishy romance movies (the few I've seen anyway) aren't particularly funny, not necessarily well-acted, not suspenseful, not exciting, not anything. They're a piece of stale white bread.

Everyone talks about Ghost (remember that dreadful flick). Ohhh, it was sooo romantic. Ohhhh, Patrick Swishy. Ohhh, it was so hot. Swoon. Swoon. Sigh. The best thing about that movie was the crazy psychic lady part played by that woman with no eyebrows... Whoopie.

... Mmm... Uhh. Ohkay, so maybe that might have been the only "romantic" movie I've actually seen all the way through. So? If that's the best there is to offer, and a lot of people insist it is, then -barf-. No thanks.

Pauly Shore may not be everyone's taste and his movies are not the most productive way to spend one's time, but at least they make most people grin like an idiot. Empty calories can be good for the soul. Screw chicken soup.

On to other things.

There's this weird mo-fo who buys space in local KC papers and writes these wacko rants about squirrels living under his hat and they whisper in his ears at night. They tell him things about local politics and conspiracy strangeness, apparently. Then at random moments during these several-paragraph-long episodes of babbling, he will say something like "For the best stump removal this side of the Mississippi, call Edgar at XXX-XXXX".

Is that what LSD does to you when you get older?

His name is Skip Sleez-something. I dunno. Google him. I bet someone has said something about him before. He probably has his own hat-dwelling-woodland-critter-babble website at this point.

I hear he's filthy rich, but that he lives in an apartment above an old mini-storage building with abandoned cars all around it or something like that.

Speaking of hearing things about people---

I saw that Clay Aiken is "coming out". Like is that really necessary? Do I have to "come out" as a fat woman? Because that would be the exact same thing. People would look at me and say "duh, we already knew that". So Clay, good for you and everything, but ... duh, we already knew that.

Sorry I haven't been around a whole lot lately. I started playing water volley ball with a group of senior citizens 3 nights a week.

No. I'm genuinely not kidding.

Stop judging. They're wonderful people and it's fun. It's a good way to keep me strong and flexible. Some of the ladies don't like to get their hair wet and some of the other ladies kind of cheat and spike the ball because they know the ones who maintain dry hair won't dive for the save. I'm telling you, they don't just sit around in rocking chairs and bake cookies on Sunday. These chicks have a wee bit of attitude.

Moving right along.

I returned to Wal-Mart tonight and managed to go inside.

-inhale-----------

------------exhale-

Tuesday nights aren't so bad. It wasn't as crowded as a Saturday. But it was still bursting at the seams with creepies. Maybe I'm a creepy, too. I don't know. What I do know is that if there is something you need down a particular aisle and you know exactly where it is, that is when you will get behind the slowest walking party of 13 in the whole store. It will consist of one mom under age 22. At least 3 kids still in diapers. One auntie or grandma wearing high-waisted jeans, plain white Keds knock offs, and a teddy bear t-shirt.

Seriously, people are just oblivious. It must have something to do with mob mentality of sorts. Everyone dreads being there so badly that when they walk through the doors, their heads instantly go up their asses and they're swallowed up in a fog. They wander aimlessly with their carts, like a highway full of drivers all drinking, texting, smoking, and eating at the same time but in slow motion.

At least 3 or 4 times, I was nearly hit head-on by an oncoming cart driver who was looking every direction except the one in which they were walking.

IDIOTS!

In comparison to the parking lot, I would say one is less likely to get seriously injured INSIDE the store, but one is still just as susceptible to being driven upon, albeit by a cart as opposed to an automobile.

In case anyone is wondering, I am overflowing with rants and complaints about Sarah Palin's hypocrisy, Obama's iffy voting record, McCain's abundance of wealth, the AIG "crisis" and our government's nearly $2 TRILLION dollar bailout for the AIG failure as well as the housing market, Lehman Brothers, etc. $2 Trillion dollars of TAX PAYER MONEY. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to privatize the profit but socialize the debt? Fuck that!!!

Are you people in DC listening to me? I write you letters all the time! I'm sick of your shit!!! Stop making bad decisions that make it harder for me to pay my bills!!!!

Local government people, I know you hear me... if you want to make it to The Hill, don't lose your ethics (if you have any) along the way. Remember we put you there and we will take you out.

To the rest of you --- VOTE!!!! Don't just vote on a single issue either. Get your ass in gear and do some reading. Turn off the TV. Put down the newspaper. Visit VoteSmart.org, visit their individual websites and know what they're really about.

Don't forget, if you're voting for someone because they want to smother the rights of others (for example those who are against gay rights or religious freedom); those same people will eventually turn on YOU too. A vote for freedom and equality for a person you may not necessarily like is STILL a vote for freedom and equality.

Wow. I wasn't expecting to get all preachy. Me so sorry. Won't happen again.

Watch for fall trends. I predict lots of jewel tones in fine gauge knits. Long A-line tunics, a revist to smocking and pin-tucks. The skinny jean silhouette will start showing up in cotton blend slacks, but leggings will be on the way out. Look for a major explosion in boots. Flat boots, heeled boots, leather, suede, patent, fringe, buckles, plain, knee high, short top... Boots galore. I think chunky jewelry is going to continue to stick around a while longer, and we will be wearing a little more of it. Handbags are going to sizzle in shimmery fabrics and metallic materials. Big bags are back, so make sure you're doing extra curls in the gym. Make up is going to be colorful, clean and blended. Deep rose tones on the eyes, neutral cheeks, liquid eyeliner, and a tawny lip. Extensions are out. Mia Farrow short is in.

Ohkay, gotta go.

*poof*

Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers! 20Aug08

2008-08-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers!
Is there a correlation between money and manners?

Common sense tells me a person can have manners or kindness or class no matter what their stock portfolio contains. Hell, I don't even HAVE a stock portfolio and I think I'm more often nice than not nice.

Common sense does not apply at Wal-Mart.

I realize people from all backgrounds shop there. But what is it about those Always Low Prices that brings out the ass in people?

Tonight I was doomed to go there after work. Had to have food for dinner, mainly. I realize Wal-Mart is evil and I shouldn't shop there. But give me a break. I literally can't afford Price Chopper. Even HyVee is a bit out of my budget on some things.

As I sat in the parking lot (because I whined and Mr. Buffie went in without me) I observed the most obnoxious behavior.

First of all, we encountered the classic "I know you were waiting for this space, but I was able to pull in faster, so fuck you" move. Fucking bad-highlights bitch and her bad-highlights in training fugly frowning teen daughter. Fuck you both, bitches. For all you know we would have offered you the space. You didn't have to be a hateful selfish whore.

Then I witness other outrageous things. People will drive on your ass if you don't move. Apparently waiting for a pedestrian to walk 5 yards is JUSTTOOLONGTOWAIT because they are INAHURRY! Therefore they're going to pause and creep forward as you walk, creeping faster the closer you get to the other side, finally reaching about 45 mph when you've cleared their path. No they literally DO NOT have an extra 30 seconds to let you cross without fear. THEY are VERY important people who have places to GO and people to SEE!!!! Very important! Hurry! Move along! Coming through!

What's worse? These people are steadily rolling toward you as you're walking AND they're swatting at 15 loose kids floundering in the back seat while trying to insert their cell phones into their skulls and scounting a parking space to steal from someone else who's been waiting for it for 5 minutes.

Ohhh, let's not forget my favorite part of the Wal-Mart parking lot experience... the varied flotsam and jetsam strewn about the place. Dirty diapers, plastic cups, those notorious blue bags. Yet I see trash can after trash can, too. All standing purposefully in their convenient locations, ready and willing to accept your refuse. What lovely people must have left these treasures just lying on the ground? Why, I can't possibly imagine.

Shopping carts. They revolutionized the grocery store experience. Life would not be the same without them. Yet they're abandoned among the cars or the little grassy medians at the end of the parking rows. Meanwhile the shopping cart return stalls are ghost towns with tumbleweeds blowing across their dusty lanes.

To summarize - Wal-Mart parking lots are viewed by most as a good place to:
qualify for a NASCAR race.
discuss football practice schedules on your cell phone.
be as selfish as humanly possible.
leave shit-bombs... err... diapers for others to find and enjoy.
discard your used shopping cart by picking any direction that points away from your car and shoving it as hard as you can.
do all of the above at the exact same moment.
...and ... my favorite... observe some of the worst that humanity has to offer without being involved in active warfare or being in maximum security prison.

Clean up on aisle 3.

Perez Hilton goes from fat... to fat hater? Must be bitchy cuz he’s HUNGRY! 09Aug08

2008-08-09T18:58:00.000-07:00

Recently Perez Hilton's website posted a photo of the gorgeous Deidrababe and her lovely friend SuperMishe without permission and NOT for reasons of adoration. That was fucking wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. Deeds is an amazing individual with a HELL of a lot more soul, strength and courage than Perez would ever dream of having. I don't know Mishe very well, but if she's a friend of Deidra, she's got to be one kickass girlie.

I wrote to Mr. Hilton with a piece of my mind. I'm sure it will be deleted without being read, but I'd like to share it here, as a record it existed at some point.

If he responds (and I'm so not holding my breath), I'll update.

Anyone else care to send him a note? perez@perezhilton.com

-In my response to him, I included a link to the offending use of the very cute photo. But I removed it here because he doesn't even deserve the hit on his site.-

I think you've made a mistake Perez. But no one is perfect. What I'd like to know is... are you the kind of person who is willing to take steps to make amends?

First of all, the photo you used, was used without permission. I know the two ladies in it and I know for a fact they didn't say "sure, use it for your own purposes because we -heart- public ridicule".

-And before you say 'well they put it on the net' let me say that they put it in a FAT-POSITIVE place on the net and that's where it was intended to be viewed by PAYING members.-

Second, as a not-so-thin (at least you didn't used to be) person, why even go there? Fat jokes have been done TO DEATH. Certainly your wacky and creative mind has more imagination than to resort to some tired old stereotype. Or have you gone and lapped up the Hollywood punch? Coke diet? Weight loss surgery? Meth? And for what? To look like all the others? Why weren't you happy with yourself as you were?

I'm fat. So what? I'm also left handed. I have brown eyes. I'm 5'8". So what so what so what... Am I healthy? Yes, but that's actually quite irrelevant to the point I'm trying to make.

The hateful comments about the photo sincerely made me cry. It's a horrible world sometimes. But I'm trying to stay positive. I realize you didn't make those comments, but you're not stupid. You went fishing and you used that photo as bait. You knew it would generate that old reliable mob mentality that the internet's anonymous nature seems to breed. I don't know WHY you wanted to do that though.

Can you tell me why?

Hating on people simply for the way they look is such a stone-age way to go through life. It really is NO DIFFERENT than hating someone for being black or being short or having unusual features.

Perez, you're better than that. So do the right thing. Take down that photo and maybe even apologize for using it. You never know, one of those awful people who made hateful comments might think twice before doing something shitty to a fat person next time.

If anything, think of Matthew Shepard. He was fatally beaten for being different. If he didn't deserve it (and he most certainly did NOT deserve it), neither do fat people.

Kindest regards,
Buffie of BigCuties.com

From the ashes of the most insignificant thing I’ve done all day... 07Aug08

2008-08-07T18:57:00.000-07:00

If you know me, or if you're at least familiar with me, then you're probably aware that I'm not exactly "serious". Sure, I fuss and complain a lot, but it's mostly for fun.

There isn't a lot worth taking "seriously". Life is too short to live without humor in massive amounts. A light heart is a happy heart.

But, being a sensible girl, I do hold a few tasks in rather high regard when it comes to seriousness.

One of those things is driving. I ~heart~ horsepower, but I'm not willing to risk my life or someone else's life by using horsepower foolishly. Going fast is for race tracks or places where you pose a danger only to yourself and even then the chances are slim. Horsepower is for a controlled environment.

Driving means driving. Not texting, talking on the phone, eating, putting on make up, dicking around with the iPod, gawking at things that aren't on the road, not the place to be if you've been partying with adult beverages or other substances.

Tonight I was at a red light, a notoriously long one. So I used that moment to call home and let someone know to expect me soon. Just in case I should be kidnapped en route or something. (As if someone could actually do that.)

I used the time at the light to make a simple call and put my phone back in my purse in the passenger seat. After the call ended, I hung up the phone and checked the light. Still red. I opened my purse. Checked again and the light was green. I hesitated, just long enough to make sure I dropped the phone into the open top of my bag. I pushed on the pedal. The car crept forward. (Like I said, even though I -could- treat every intersection like the starting line at the drag strip, that's a waste of gas and just kind of dumb.)

Then my windshield was dark, yet only for a moment. For just a whisper of a second, I was engulfed in the shadow of a commercial truck hauling a container. Full speed ahead. Woosh. In it's wake, it left a quiet but powerful wave of air that slightly rocked my car as it blew past, less than a yard from the forward edge of my car. Perhaps closer.

I can't remember now if the container was grey or that faded rusty red color so many of them seem to be. I am pretty sure the truck was dark blue. But at that moment, things were happening so fast and so slow at the same time. For some reason, my memory forgot to record in color.

My mind hasn't been so clear in years. I remember every song I heard on the way home. I remember thinking of all the things I would have done for the last time, had I not hesitated at that light. I thought about the last phone call I had with Mr. Buffie. I thought about all the mundane things I did today and how I have every intention of showing up tomorrow to do them again because I've become so arrogant in my thinking that I feel entitled to the future.

The future is just a theory. Just an idea. It isn't "real". Only right now is real. Only right now is a guarantee.

It took hours, minutes, days to digest what happened. I let off the gas and just sat there in disbelief. I looked around at the other cars to see if anyone saw what I did, like catching a look at bigfoot and wondering if you were the only one who noticed. I don't even remember what I saw. There's just a blur and the moment really only lasted a fraction of a second but felt like a wait in line at the DMV.

I did go through the intersection eventually. And I think I kind of floated home.

People joke about being run over by a bus or getting hit by a Mack truck. I joke about that stuff, too. I joke a lot about being plowed over by a crazed, distracted, pill popping soccer mom speeding in her giant SUV while she's on her cell phone, eating a power bar, and yelling at her kids.

I will probably joke about it tomorrow. But it will never be the same. Because sometimes, that red light really is just a suggestion to someone. Why am I so sure this was almost Buffie's Last Night in Town? Think about it. The speed limit on that highway is 45 to 55 depending on where you are. This is a huge commercial truck, and I have no way of knowing (thank goodness) whether he was loaded or unladen. Still, that's a lot more iron and steel than my Z28. I don't even have a real roof on my car. I have glass t-tops. Total pancake scenario.

(Disclaimer - The vast majority of commercial truck drivers are experienced professionals who would never dream of doing something so dangerous and STUPID. In fact, stats show that in accidents involving passenger cars and commercial trucks, the PASSENGER CAR is *at fault* MOST of the time. I have a lot of respect for truck drivers and what they mean to life as we know it. If it weren't for truck drivers, we'd be going to the train depot to buy groceries, clothes, and electronics. No thank you.)

Who would ever guess that the most insignificant task could have an impact on whether you live or die in a given moment. Putting my cell phone in my purse. I hesitated to make sure it actually fell into my purse, instead of on to the seat. Had I not done that, I would have accelerated just far enough for my hood to be under the front tires and the passenger compartment to absorb the impact of the radiator and engine.

Coming home tonight was like coming home for the first time. It's like waking up and not knowing where I am now. This near-encounter has blown a fuse in me and now I'm not as familiar as I used to be.

This is so dumb. Am I overreacting? Am I not reacting enough? I've never been so numb and I've never been so cautiously aware of my world. I'm equally glad it happened and wishing it would never have happened. Experiences like these... what can I really learn from it? I'm already a very good, careful, responsible driver. (Not perfect, but a damn lot better than MANY people with whom I must unfortunately share the road.) If nothing more comes of this than a weeks long episode of insomnia, then what's it for?

Does it have to be "for" anything? Does everything truly happen for a reason? Tonight has been both an argument for and against that philosophy. Perhaps hesitating with my cell phone happened for a reason, because I was not in the intersection when the truck ran the light. However, the truck ran the light and this is the closest thing I have ever had to a near-death experience (and something I do NOT wish to repeat).

Tomorrow is going to be the same as it ever was, but it isn't going to look at all how I expected.

She LIES! Jillian Barberie and Nutrisystem LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE! 05Aug08

2008-08-05T18:56:00.000-07:00

How fucking dumb do the folks at Nutrisystem's ad firm think we are? That's a rehtorical question. Obviously they think we're extremely fucked up to believe their shit products actually "work".

Case in point:

Jillian Barberie is now doing the "I lost weight on Nutrisystem and YOU can too! Here's my fat 'before' picture and look at my cocaine-slim frame now!" schtick.

Here's where I have a problem. Her "BEFORE" picture was OBVIOUSLY taken while she was preganant! DUH! Her pregnancy was in the celebrity gossip rags for one thing. Plus, in the "Before" photo, she's all baby-belly. No actual "fat" is seen on her body.

She lost 40 pounds on Nutrisystem! (What she fails to mention is that she lost 18 pounds on the day she GAVE BIRTH.) I don't really know if she had assistance from the nose powder, but let's face it, that's how a lot of Hollywood achieves the whippet look.

What pandering bullshit is this anyway? Come ON Nutrisystem. Don't feed me yellow snow and tell me it's a lemon slush.

But it just goes to show how many morons in this world, in 2008, still adhere to the belief that fat people are generally stupid, lazy slobs. Here's a newsflash, stupid lazy slobs come in ALL shapes and sizes. Likewise fat people possess an array of qualities, including intelligence, motivation, cleanliness and beauty. Get with the NOW already. 2009 will be here in a matter of months. Do you really want to be the last person stumbling around in life with a bunch of tired, old, lame stereotypes clouding up your thoughts? Not saying folks have to learn to "like" big people if they don't already, but they could at least not assume we're all dumb as a sack full of hammers.

For the record, Nutrisystem's diet doesn't sound appealing at all. Even if I wanted to be skinny, I wouldn't eat that stuff. Countless people describe it as unedible, salty, horrible looking, awful tasting microwave food. Nooooo thanks. Fresh salads and running around the block sounds by far and wide like a better deal.

So that's three shove-it's in one day!

A Shove It to Nutrisystem.

A Shove It to Jilliam Barberie for allowing her pregnancy to be exploited in that way.

An earlier Shove It to the fear mongering media.

That was exhausting. Shoving is good exercise. ~winkies~

Ramble at your own risk! BEWARE! People may actually read it! 04Aug08

2008-08-04T18:55:00.000-07:00

For punishment, I often read CNN.com, MSNBC.com and if I've been really naughty, FoxNews.com.

On one of those sites I read an article about how medical students could be doing "damage" to their careers by posting photos of themselves on the MySpace or FaceBook or whatever else.

Really?

Because frankly, how many people expect their doctor to be a robot who has never been photographed, never socialized online, never done anything resembling fun ever ever ever? A show of hands please?

I didn't think so.

Now, it's one thing to be photographed burning a cross and wearing a big white hood and expect to have ethnically diverse clients. But if that is who you really are, by all means, BE who you really are. I'm sure black patients would rather know you're a bigot in order to avoid seeking your services. You'd be doing them and yourself a favor. Same goes for the ObGyn who might post photos of himself with a "No Fat Chicks" t-shirt. Sure as the sun rises, I would not want to have him for a doctor, so if he discloses that on his MySpace (and who checks our their doctor on MySpace anyway) then this is information that helps me very much in my decision making.

Why all the paranoia about what we do online? Is this somehow worse than what we do in person? Because frankly, if there's a witness, then it's history you can't erase, whether it's stored digitally or in someone's memory. A digital record is at least typically more reliable than a memory... less open for debate, all things considered and if the data has not been manipulated or altered.

Should I be paranoid about what I do online? Heck no. What I do here I would do anywhere. Why does it matter if it's preserved in text and photos? Some of this stuff I don't want to forget. This serves as a great record of good times I've had and fun people I know. Even if I were going to be a doctor, I would not change a thing.

Don't misunderstand me to say that I think someone should act however the fuck they want in whatever company. I do believe in manners and respect and certain social standards. But that's mostly a matter of common sense. Don't swear in front of your grandparents. Don't wear low-rise jeans exposing your purple glitter thong to your office unless your boss is Hugh Hefner. Chew with your mouth closed. Say 'please' and 'thank you' when it's appropriate. Simple stuff.

But don't hide under your bed and think you've ruined your life because you were photographed holding a beer at a pub with some friends. I'm relatively sure at some point in history, at least one successful doctor has had a beer or been in a pub.

People who are paranoid and freaking out about things they've done or said online should perhaps evaluate who they are in person. Why do they feel like they have to be different where the interwebs is concerned? The best person you can be is who you ARE. Own it. No one is perfect, including you. So say 'fuck it' and have a life you enjoy and share that life with the people who matter to you.

Don't let the media's fear mongering bully you away from being yourself. No one likes it when the bully wins.

Screw you, medical-student-online-life-study-people! Quit snooping around on other people and find your own way to post drunken slack-jaw photos of yourself online. Maybe if you weren't acting all super spy online, you'd actually have drunken fun worthy of photographing!

Pfffffttttt!!!!!!!

Noise in the Hood. 26Jun08

2008-06-26T18:54:00.000-07:00

More from the sponge-like mind of Buffie. Her PlateWire bitch-fest makes a special appearance on MySpace, in yo face.

Why do the people with the most crap taste in music always have the loudest, nastiest, distorted stereos?

That's one of my biggest pet peeves.

It isn't other drivers' faults if Mr. Loud Tunes likes junk music. Why punish the rest of the people on the road by blaring a cracked MP3 of it from a busted speaker in the trunk of his hoopty? Rrrrrrgggg! I hate that!

What's the thrill? Do they need attention that badly? Besides, they should consider the attention they're getting. No one is impressed by their tired ass ride and no one is going to give them a thumbs up for playing rubbish we can hear anytime of the day on the radio in our own cars. Losers.

One of these days I'm going to try putting James Taylor all the way up to 11 while I'm in traffic and see what this big fad is all about. Apparently we're missing something from our lives with our quiet, unintrusive radios folks. We need to branch out.

Just sayin...

Oops Kanye Did It Again... 25Jun08

2008-06-25T18:53:00.000-07:00

You know you're a big whiney puss when your temper tantrums make the CNN headlines. Kanye has had at LEAST 3 or 4 of these by now. He's such a prima donna, I fully expect to see him featured on the next VH1 Divas Live.

This time, it's everyone else's fault that his show was a couple hours late going on. He's the lone genius, surrounded by idiots who have offended him beyond the outer most edges of his tolerance. The tragedy! The pain! The despair! Poor rich boy's demands not met on timely basis, world comes to halt. Is that how you think it works Kanye?

Listen this time, because I don't like repeating myself... there are people in this world with REAL problems. You are not one of those people. When YOU have a problem, you throw your pocket change at it and the problem disappears or becomes some under-paid assistant's problem. When someone like ME has a problem, I sure as shit don't get my own hissy fit featured on CNN. Nope. But I DO get to cry to my mum on the phone for a little bit, only for her to tell me to suck it up and deal with it.

See how simple that is? Now, as you've been told before, please go pine, whine and complain in the privacy of your island vacation home on a white sand beach somewhere in the south Pacific. For shame.

I have a Subway update. Got a form-letter apology in my email today. Here it is...

"Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Dear Mrs S:

Thank you for taking the time to share your comments.

We were sorry to hear that you were offended by one of our recent television
commercials. We can assure you that no harm was intended and we apologize
for causing you concern.

The SUBWAYR Advertising Department works with a Board of Trustees, as well
as a national advertising agency and several local advertising agencies, to
develop national advertising that tells customers about our great products.
In addition, all of our ads are tested with numerous consumers before they
are aired to ensure that the overall reactions to the commercials are
positive. Our ads are meant to be fun and humorous and it was never our
intention to offend.

As a leader in the sandwich-making industry, we want sub-lovers everywhere
to know that SUBWAYR is dedicated to the concerned citizens that have helped
us grow our business. Again, thank you for taking the time to express your
views. Your input and concern is appreciated.

Sincerely,

Rosemary Crispin x8201
Customer Care Representative

Customer ID:XXXXXXXXX"

First of all, I must wonder if this Rosemary Crispin is a real human or just some Subway practice of assigning different people names to their automated apology letter email servers.

Second, using Subway's reasoning that if it's said in humor then it's alright, we could say well, I know the joke was bigoted, but it was funny so you shouldn't be offended and if you are, I'm sorry, so we're cool right? Great, now buy my shit.

OR... we could use their focus-group reasoning. Mr. Subway Ad Guy has a meeting and he says, "Let's see, we want to make an ad that talks major smack on gay people. Good, good. Yes that sounds good. Alright, before we proceed, we need to run this by a focus group. Do you think those folks from the Westboro Church in Topeka are busy? Someone get Phelps on the phone for me."

I think I've proved my point, Subway. You're fucked up and not funny. Just admit it. Don't blow smoke up my ass with your I'm-sorry-but-I-was-only-trying-to-be-funny-and-besides-the-focus-group-said-it-was-good-and-did-I-forget-to-mention-we-bribed-them-with-money. Save it. Save your effing sammiches, too. I hope they all get old and moldy and I hope your marketing people all wake up tomorrow with one leg shorter than the other and hair growing where it shouldn't be. HA!

Dear Subway... 22Jun08

2008-06-22T18:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Subway,

This is regarding your new ad about the guy who eats at the burger joint and suddenly needs new bigger clothes, a seat-belt extender, etc...

Note to your marketing geniuses... if you want a customer's money perhaps it is best not to insult them. I don't have a marketing degree as I am too fat, lazy, and stupid to earn one (sarcasm intended), but I would just guess that the first rule for winning the favorable attention of a person or group of people is to approach them with kindness, or neutrality at the very least.

But y'know, what do I know? I'm merely an ignorant fat person. Besides, I'm so paranoid (as your ad suggests) to even leave my home, let alone visit a Subway where all the thin, wonderful, perfect people dine.

All kidding and snideness aside (hey, y'all started by insulting ME first, just giving back a little of what I was given), I really used to like going to Subway. This might be news to you folks, but large people do NOT actually just sit at home, eating lard out of a bucket with a spoon. Sometimes we do eat good, healthy food. Amazing? Yes, I know.

Subway isn't perfect though. You folks have lots of sodium filled lunch meats, which aren't exactly good for the arteries. Let's not forget your wide choice of high calorie sodas, cookies, and chips. So to suggest your company is the end-all of health food... (hey, that's the same as suggesting what you do about fat people -we're in need of therapy? Ring a bell?) ...it's about as much of a stretch as my elastic waist pants.

Anyway, here's the deal, you start making ads that are either *truly* effing hilarious (hire John Pinette, if he'll have your sorry ass) or you start making ads that are LESS obnoxious, stereotypical, lame, rude, and then maybe, JUST maybe I will consider coming back to a Subway. Don't forget, I'm a fat sow, so I spend a crap-ton of money on your mayo-filled, salt encrusted, foot long sandwiches, and your delicious eat-em-by-the-dozen cookies. Deal?

=)

Very best regards,
Buffie S.
Missouri

Obscenity and the common pin up. 12Jun08

2008-06-12T18:51:00.000-07:00

I posed a question at Dims... and would like to share it here, too...

----- Who decides what is "obscene"? -----

I've been reading about Ira Isaacs' upcoming trial and it really bothers me.

I have not seen any of his films, but after reading about them, they sound like something I would never want to see. "Poo" porn isn't really my thing. In my own personal opinion it's gross, but I don't know if I would call it "obscene".

Who has the ultimate say in how "obscene" is defined anyway?

Quote:
The prosecution is the first in Southern California by a U.S. Department of Justice task force formed in 2005 after Christian conservative groups appealed to the Bush administration to crack down on smut.

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la...,4510463.story
:End Quote.

So what if it is smut? If the business is conducted legally with consenting adults, then in the United States, let them have their smut!

What the fuck is wrong with someone watching legal porn in the privacy of their own home? Why does this "task force" even exist??? And to blame it on Christians? I'm not a Christian, but I'm surrounded by them and most of the ones I know don't give two hoots what someone does on their own time.

Y'know Ira Isaacs might be a real slime bag. But isn't that his right as a free American? Isn't his art (however disgusting it may or may not be) protected under the First Amendment?

I realize there are a lot of people in this country and in our government who would dearly love to restrict everything we see, read, write and create. I realize a lot of those people will claim those restrictions are in the name of "decency" and the protection of polite society. But what a slippery slope! Even when the PMRC came about some years ago with their censorship bent trying to damn the pop music industry, I never thought they'd get away with it. And mostly, they did not.

This one though, this one has me worried. What if they get away with it? Then what? What's next to go? Are they going to take away Comedy Central? South Park? Beavis and Butthead? Are they going to close down my own paysite?

How did this happen? From where did this "task force" come? How do we make it go away?

(By the way, the task force who is prosecuting Ira Isaacs is NOT the same federal agency that deals with child porn. That's an ENTIRELY different ball of wax. We're talking about consenting adults and their First Amendment rights here.)

This guy stands a chance of going to jail, depending on the outcome of the jury's decision. If he's convicted, then in a roundabout way, I stand a chance of going to jail some day for flashing my boobies. It's a coin toss... he could get a very open-minded jury; there are no guarantees.

Either scenario could totally happen. One of my relatives, whom I love very much, is 19 different varieties of uptight. If she ever knew about my website, I think she would be "offended" to the point that she would never speak to me again. No one is perfect, y'know. She's just one of those people with a very narrow mind and extremely conservative tendencies, but I still love her because she has a good soul. She's also the kind of person who might sit on a jury. And there are other people like her who might sit on a jury with her. It only takes twelve. Twelve people who are "offended" by boobs or BBWs could potentially put my porky butt in the pokey.

But that's totally unlikely right? ... Or is it?

-I'm scared.-

----- ----- ------ ----- ------

Some pretty awesome folks responded and we have had a fun and interesting discussion.... but since I don't have their permission to post what they've written, I'll just share my end. If you want to see it all, visit Dims. You know the addy.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

(The following is in response to someone saying the conservatives want to take away our porn while the liberals want to take away our un-green engines.)

Holy crap... I hadn't even thought about that AC. That's fucking perfect. I'll have no paysite AND no horsepower. Thanks US Government. Just kill me now.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

(Later in the discussion, someone jokingly asked if my site had anything to do with beastiality or poo porn, since much of Ira Isaacs' material apparently covers those topics, ahem...)

Ha ha! Nope... no beastiality or poo porn for me, Risible. I can barely clean the occasional kitty hair ball without dry heaving.

For the record, I think beastiality is unethical. Animals can't give their consent, so I think they should not be made to perform any sexual act with a human. I don't know if I would consider it malim in se or malim prohibitum, or even if it is a crime at all. But it is yuck-o, in my very humble opinion.

I fully agree with what you're saying about art being in the eye of the beholder, though. Example... my father-in-law has this effing polar bear sculpture. It's HORRIBLE. The ugliest thing ever ever ever. Stupid thing is also apparently worth quite a dime and my husband is most eager to inherit the forsaken paperweight. Thinking about that dreadful chunk of crap collecting dust on the mantle where visitors can see it makes me cringe. Absolute waves of horror shake me at my core. BUT... my father-in-law and his dingbat son think the friggin thing is art in the highest degree. A pièce de résistance to display with pride in the most high-traffic area of the house. If he could mount the son of a bitch on the hood of the car, he probably would. To me, it's heinous. Plain and simple.

So which one of us would win in a court of law when it comes to the angry polar bear statue? I think that question is just as useless as the question of obscenity currently posed to Ira Isaacs' jury.

(Someone else said "the post thickens" instead of saying "plot" in reference to recent information regarding the judge on the case and his personal website containing material that might be considered 'obscene'.)

Hee hee Les... the post thickens... in a way, that's appropos. LOL I thought you were being clever. I read about the judge's problems earlier today. What another slap in the face! Geezus.

It's like we all have to live underground. No jokes, no laughing, no porn, no fast cars with big engines, no nothing. You get up in the morning, pray, go to work, come home, pray, eat, pray, shower, pray, go to bed, repeat until Saturday, get up, pray, shower, pray, read religious books and political propaganda, pray, eat, pray, go to bed, get up, pray, go to church, pray, sing, pray, secretly judge the person sitting in front of you, pray, stand up, pretend to pray while the guy up on the podium talks about how you'll rot in hell if you think about the woman at your office with the extremely nice ass, sit down, put some money in the plate, pray, go home, pray, eat, pray, got to bed, start over from the top, repeat weekly and pay taxes annually and never question what those in authority tell you to do. Is that what the government actually wants? Do our representatives and legislators actually think that is POSSIBLE, let alone practical?

I'm in Missouri and my community seems to be undecided on how "conservative" or "liberal" they want to be. There's a church on every corner but there's also a topless bar or adult-magazine shop within about 5 or 10 miles of anywhere you'd go in the Kansas City area. As for laws, my website is not breaking any laws, state or federal. I am of legal age; I pay taxes on my income; and don't do anything that would constitute indecent exposure.

While I don't really lose any sleep over being personally prosecuted on obscenity charges, since I read about this case, I now realize it IS possible that I *could* be.... however unlikely. Then I think, y'know what, it may not be as unlikely as I would let myself believe. That's why I gave the example of my super-uptight relative. If she were on my jury she would definitely vote to convict me. She does think all porn should be illegal. My point is... she is NOT alone. She's not even that much of a minority. Her husband is of a very similar mindset. It only takes 12 jurors to seal one's fate and finding 12 people like her and her husband would not be a difficult task. So I oscillate between thinking it's wildly impossible that a no-core pin up model like myself would be prosecuted; and thinking it is not only possible but could be probable if the current trend continues.

The whole situation is just junk. Honestly, leave the porn guy alone. Leave the judge alone. Leave everyone alone! Let's go after those who are really causing a problem... serial killers, anyone? Child molesters? Repeat offender drunk drivers? After we get rid of all of those, then maybe if we just have nothing better to do, I suppose we can start picking on innocent people to pass the time.

Sorry for prattling on so long, but obvsiously my mind hasn't had enough to occupy itself the past day or so. LOL

Let me also say I'm so glad to see that there are people here who would not throw me or others like me under a bus for flashing a little leg. I do appreciate that and find real comfort in it. Thanks you guys.

... Now back to your regularly scheduled programming ...

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Your thoughts? Am I "obscene"? ... Yes. But foul language aside, all other things considered where consenting adults and legal business are concerned, where do we draw the line?

The White Bandage of Courage - or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Tumor. 04Jun08

2008-06-04T18:49:00.000-07:00

It's been a strange couple of weeks.

At the end of April, out of nowhere, I start feeling this knot on my stomach. That's weird. Doesn't hurt. Hmph. It'll go away.

But 2 weeks later, it was SO NOT going away. FINE. Goddammit, fine. I'll call the doctor. I'll use one of my FEW covered doc appointments (thanks to fucking cheapskate changes in my insurance and a shitty economy).

Doc pokes around at it. Says it's a cyst and sends me to a surgeon. He pokes around at it, says not a cyst. Dunno what it is. Will chop open and remove at hospital.

Show up at hospital. Got poked with needles, and given some magic gas. Pass out. Wake up an hour later. Feel odd painful sensation where mysterious lump used to be. Try to touch area. Feels like cotton and gauze cell phone has been taped to my belly. Geezus christ, what did they do to me.

Mr. Buffie says the doc told him no worries. Still dunno what it is, but sending it to the lab. (You mean I go through all this shit and I don't get to keep it? I even brought a jar with me.)

Got home with magic pills. Wake up 2 days later.

Look at incision myself for first time. Fucking cow! That's a HUGE cut. How big was this thing? The doc supposedly said it was small, like a walnut or a pecan. That's got to be a 6 inch incision. Good grief. This suture thing is cool though. There's only one "stitch". It sticks out on one side, goes under my skin and holds it together, then sticks out the other side. Neato.

This thing flippin hurts though. Sitting up really sucks because my belly puts pressure on the cut. Massive bruises, too. Lame lame lame.

But alas, I feel like something is now missing. Over the weeks, I grew close to my new little friend. I had given it a name and had big plans for it. I was going to keep it in a jar with some glitter, like a snow globe. It was going to have a band, too. Lil Tumor and the Tape Worm Twins (the tape worms were going to be supplied by someone else. I don't have tape worms) would release their single "Band in a Jar". It would be a top 40 hit. They would have their own Behind the Music special on VH1. However, it is not to be. The tumor was abducted by someone on the staff at St. Luke's. Certainly they were unaware that they had absconded with a local celebrity.

Geeeeeeezus christ it hurts. I find myself just sitting, in a stupor, wondering when the pain will subside. Yeagh. My second boob job didn't hurt this bad, ironically.

Gas prices have me totally depressed. Unfortunately I've had time to think about it. I've had time to ponder on too much. We're going to have a new president in a few months. Another wealthy suit who doesn't know or give two shits about middle class people like me or my family.

Then I get all bitter about people who abuse the welfare system and how they slowly drain funds from those of us already struggling to make ends meet. I just ~heart~ the saying "if you can't feed em, don't' breed em". Why can't more people take that to heart? If you're struggling and you have 2 or 3 kids, fine. Get some TEMPORARY help. But QUIT popping out kids until your ass can afford them. Oh... and don't bitch and whine about having so little and needing my tax dollars for help when your ass can always afford cigarettes, cell phones, booze, cable tv, and acrylic nails. Government aid is meant for disabled people, the elderly, disadvantaged kids, and those who need TEMPORARY help. It is NOT a way of life or a free ride for some lazy ass who thinks they're entitled to a hand out.

I've spent most of today trying to scrub my brain fee of these thoughts. I'm SO over it. Call me shallow if you must, but there's a reason why I would rather watch E! News over CNN. I can only handle so many bloated politicans, earthquakes, soaring fuel prices, and global warming. Give me info on the latest in purses for summer, lip gloss that smells like bubble gum, where to buy cheap earrings, what cars bounce your boobs the most when you drive over speed bumps, kittens in baskets... You know... Buffie stuff.

I have over a thousand unanswered messages in my MySpace inbox. Gulp. Me so sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to get to all of those in a timely manner. Oh long johnson, why can't I have a fake job where I don't ever leave the house? Is there any way I can get paid for goofing off on MySpace? What about getting paid to nap? Certainly that's worth something.

I am just not quite myself. I miss my friends. I think Kevin is going to visit soon. Chuckwagon better get himself prepared for another princess in the house. Bring on the alcohol and guacamole. Chuck still can't eat a tortilla. Kevin ruined tortillas for him. Way to go, Kev!

The world has to get better. Soon. Or else the news needs to start reporting some of the good things that happen. Too much information is a bad thing, especially when it's all shit shitty crap shit that's making our lives so hard.

What have we here... in the cabinet... I spy chocolate covered almonds. Joy and excitement! Well, that is certainly the best thing I've found today.

Later gators. I have an appointment with yummy goodness.

Rock of Love is a delightful slut-fest. Why do I watch this junk!?!? 22Apr08

2008-04-22T18:48:00.000-07:00

Got fished in, totally fished in by the VH1. Happens all the time. It's like they have spies in my brain. Ohhh... Rock of Love. All my heart to Poison, because they spent a great deal of time in my CD player and still do, but not as often, too many choices these days. This show is a tour bus full of painted valley hookers on parade. It's nothing but lip gloss, plastic, and the unidentifiable ick around the edges of the hot tub. And I can't seem to stop watching. The shame I feel.

Mr. Buffie is a very lucky son of a gun. He's totally passed out on the sofa right now.
Post-fried-chicken-food-coma. It's a common occurrence in American males over the age of 35.

He was very busy doing my biddng all weekend. I have new mulch (it's red!) and new plants and some iris that will soon bloom.

Hey, do any of you know if mulch is bad? I talked to Misse on the phone tonight. Anyway, she said mulch was supposed to be bad, but she couldn't remember if that
was a fact or suburban legend. eeek ))Worried! ((
Bugs, gross.

Is it against the law to bribe a sky cap? I kind of assumed that was why they were really there. These aren't simply kind, smiling gentlemen who help you unload your car and never complain when your license gets stuck in your wallet. Those guys are
there to make a dime, yeah duh. I mean, everyone knows extra tips earn you some extra liberties. That's the American Way. Those who can afford DO and
those who can't afford POUT. -pout- It was ok to bribe in the days before the TSA clearly. Two big, heavy bags and two carry ons, plus
a purse, a camera and a paper shopping bag. That's
how much I took with me then and that's how
much I WOULD take if I still could without the want of mailing half of it ahead of time and tipping the
@$%^^&* sky cap and extra $100 bucks and flashing a little more boob than is probably really legal in public.

I just saw the dumbest commercial ever... these
sisters get into a fight on this reality show and the announcer is all dramatic like this is the first
sister fight ever in history. Whatever! I don't even have siblings and I know about those fights. Duh.
Everyone does.

Ohkay, what the hell is going on with all these line breaks? Screw this. I'm not fixing all that! Pfft. Geez. MySpace has more fricking technical gremlins than boat load of classic European cars.

Poo on MySpace. Besides, there's a bug in this room and it's huge and flying and I think I need to find another room to be in because fearless bug killer guy is asleep on the couch!!!! Aaaaak!

Crybabies! 01Apr08

2008-04-01T18:45:00.000-07:00

I’m surrounded by whiners! Everywhere! Make them sssstop.

Counting down to latest Buffie rant in 3... 2... 1...

Today, someone complained there was too much mail in our out box this afternoon. TOO MUCH MAIL in the OUT Box! OUT. It’s outgoing mail. That’s where it goes. It isn’t MY fault there was so much of it. Maybe we’re doing too much business. Maybe you should complain to the BIG BOSS about that. GO HOME and deal with it the next day!!! Is this rocket science??? Really?

Recently, someone cried to my boss because my boobs looked too big in a particular shirt. Even said they could see my areolas because the top was so low. BULLSHIT! I have better manners and more class than that. Like I want to show off my goods in THAT environment. Puhleeze. Next time, Buffie is not going to listen to the petty garbage. She’s going to hang up the phone and go on about her business. Unlike some folks, she has work to do and cares about getting it done.

A CryBaby Award should be given to the person who complained about the junky truck being parked next to their car in the parking lot. True Story! It’s been a while ago, but some butt clown had a poo poo party with how our fugly truck was too close to their sacred automobile. The kicker? Junky truck was completely within the white lines. Not even on the edge. If CryBaby Supreme is so concerned about his ride, perhaps he should double-park in the back of the lot, like the rest of us do when we drive our nice cars to work. Just another helpful suggestion. ~evil grin~

If I took time out of my day to whine and cry about every little thing I witnessed that wasn’t to my liking, I wouldn’t have time to do anything else.

It’s called TOLERANCE. That’s what a person does when they’re around other people. They accept the fact that we’re all different and we all do things in our own way. We TOLERATE those few differences that rub us the wrong way. It takes one hell of an overblown sense of entitlement to think that a person’s lack of tolerance constitutes a change in behavior on behalf of the rest of the world. My ass! Get over it. Shit happens. No one is guaranteed a 100% happy-all-the-time life.

BTW, ranting is not the same as being a cry-baby. I’m laughing my ass off when I rant because life can be so completely absurd! Crybabies, on the other hand, are usually miserable and pathetic. ... At least that’s what I tell myself to justify my ranting. Hee Hee Hee!!!

~winkies~

Big FAT Valentine - Here’s to the loves in my life. 04Feb08

2008-02-04T18:43:00.000-08:00

I complain a lot, it's an area where I'm naturally gifted.

But... in spite of my fussing, I'm totally blessed with luck. Always have been. Mostly, I've been very extremely way lucky to have known some far out badasses.

First, my mums and daddy. They are still married. Incredible she hasn't killed him yet! LOL Love you both, even when you work my nerves. They taught me everything I know about the importance of having a good soul.

My Mr. Buffie. He's the most awesome person I've ever known. He even laughs at my jokes and pretends I'm clever. Plus he's fun to cuddle and we like a bunch of the same stuff. He knows about junk I will never understand, but he is patient and tries to 'splain it to me anyway.

My dear girlie friends. Misse, Lisa, KatMak, Regina, Randi, Rachel, Heather, Gwen, AnnMarie, all the Big Cuties! You chicks have no idea how much you inspire me. I draw so much strength from y'all. When I have days where I feel like the world is shitting on me, I think about how often you've all made me smile or giggle or done something outrageous and things are suddenly not awful.

My Kevin. You're delightfully hateful. From the day we met some 10 or 11 years ago (damn we're old), we were best friends. I miss you and it's really hard to be so far away from you. Mexican Mondays are not right without you. Chuckwagon and I often find ourselves playing the WWKS game. What Would Kevin Say? "What I'm lookin fo' is a Lexus." "You got a batroom in yo betroom? Where you gonna eat yo cer-real?" My neighbors are probably STILL talking bout 'that girl who lives on the corner who cheats on her husband every Monday'.

Beau, I miss you so much. I can't go the rest of my life and never see you again. You were the brother I never had and the friend I needed most in this world and shame on me for not realizing that sometimes. You always told me the truth, even when I refused to hear it. Thank you.

Bec and Branita, you're still my home-town girls and I look forward to going home in hopes I'll see ya both. Two of the most 'real' chicks ever. EVER!

The Mixxx. Freaks. All of you. Freaks and weirdos and perverts! I can't believe I spent all that time with you people. I can't believe we drank so much. What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Why the hell didn't we have better things to do? Dammit! =) Good times. I wish I still had a pager, I'd 143 4-Ever to ya'll!

To ALL the awesome women in my world... thanks for making me feel like I can do anything, absolutely anything. Thank you for giving me the guts to live out loud and without apology.

Super Sloppy Kisses to The Unit, Steph, and CC Banana! Hee hee hee!!!

Many many many many hugs to those of you I don't know very well. I appreciate the notes you send me every day and all the kindness you so freely give. It's a wonderful feeling to read all your sweet words. Thank you a million times!

Big Candy Valentie Hearts to all of you! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

I soooo DO NOT -heart- Huckabee! 09Jan08

2008-01-09T18:41:00.000-08:00

Huckabee scares me.

1 - Don't like his name. Don't know why, but I hate his name. It doesn't sound like a real name. It sounds like some shitty restaurant chain.

2 - Don't like anyone with any sort of "anti" agenda where people's appearance is concerned. He has an anti-fat agenda. (See: BMI listed on kid's grade cards in Arkansas.) I would still hate him if he had an anti-short agenda or an anti-big feet agenda. Americans are permitted to look however they want. If he's president, does that mean I'll have to hide in the house all the time, lest I'm caught and arrested for public fatted-ness? Why does no one seem to mention he had WEIGHT LOSS SURGERY to get thinner? Yeah, Fuckerbee, it's an easy ride when you have a doctor slice up your guts so you can't eat. Not everyone has that option. Not everyone WANTS that option. Some of us are just fine the way we currently live. Leave those kids alone! Geezus.

3 - He doesn't drink. Who, from Arkansas, doesn't drink? Who wants to be around a stone cold sober Arkansasanianan? Not me. Sounds like he's trying to deny his Arky roots. I don't like fakers.

4 - He has what is known as "crazy white boy stare". It's a common condition among all stupid people, actually... not just crazy white boys. Usually occurs when they're asked a question they don't understand or can't answer. Caused when the 3 active brain cells jam up with the 19 inactive ones.

5 - Wants to over-turn Roe v. Wade. Probably wants to deny women the right to vote and drive, too... FUCK THAT NOISE. Would I personally ever have an abortion? Probably not. Depends on the circumstances. But, who am I to say someone else shouldn't have the option??? Am I going to adopt their unwanted baby? Nope. So I had better leave them alone and stay out of their business. Is Fuckerbee and his sober dowdy wife going to adopt these babies and let them eat off the $10,000 china and crystal place settings in the AR Gov'ners mansion? Doubt it! Highly doubt it. Where does that fucktard get off wanting to deny a woman a choice? We can't stop hos from being hos and we can't stop rapists from being rapists and we can't stop dangerous pregnancies from happening, so let's just leave the choice up to the INDIVIDUAL... unless we're going to stand in line and personally be accountable for these children we've forced into the world... That's all I'm sayin.

6 - Is opposed to stem-cell research. Yes... let's all die skinny and sober, in church, while trying to feed masses of unwanted babies with $10,000 china.

7 - Opposes the right for gay couples to marry. Too bad we can't figure out if an embryo is gay or not... because then he would probably allow gay abortion, just so there aren't as many homos running around, trying to get married and shit. Such a shame my gay friends actually have things to do and money to spend, otherwise I'd get a gang of them together to come kick his ass.

8 - Isn't down with separation of church and state. Wants to bring his Christian faith to work with him. Um... 'scuse me, but I know a WHOLE BUNCH of Americans who might not be cool with that. Let's see... Jewish people. Buddhist people. Hindu people. Agnostic or atheist people. Muslim people. Just to name a few...

Gag me gag me gag me GAG ME! His website is awful! Just overflowing with bile and spew and garbage! This man is an IDIOT. No, seriously, he's not bright and he's not bright enough to know he's not bright. He thinks he's fine and dandy.

Huckabee = Yucky Pee.

The Bowflex Guy is a dickweed. 18Dec07

2007-12-18T18:40:00.000-08:00

Have you seen that Bowflex commercial? No, not that one. The one with the pug-faced smug guy who talks about his wife "giving him that little wink"...

That guy... if that's how he acts in person... geezus. Hi. Buy a Bowflex and you can be an asshole just like me!

He says "I gave all my fat clothes to my fat friends" all high-and-mighty like. WHATEVER. Dude, if that's how you really are, I *strongly* doubt you have ANY friends, fat, thin or otherwise.

Sheesh. Who was the marketing genius behind THAT ad?

Hellllooooo, gym and diet and work-out advertising people, if you want folks to buy your products and shit... like, I dunno... say fat people... If you want fat people to spend their hard earned cash on your junk, perhaps start out by NOT insulting them in your commercials? Just a suggestion. Y'all seem to do that a lot.

Hey you. You suck. Come spend money on my shit or else I'll spit in your eye and call your momma names!

Mmmhmmm, that's the way to win folks over. You Madison Avenue people clearly have it alllll figured out.

Gah!

(I know... another fat-rant. Hey, write what you know. That's the saying, yes? Besides, it's more fun than crying to everyone about how I don't have an MTV award or having a cow about Brangelina's baby-buying spree.)

But... speaking of celebrities. It's another time of year when I fear drunk drivers more than usual. In case you didn't know, I ABSOLUTELY LOATHE drunk drivers. I hate even more the drunk drivers who have easy access to alternatives, such as taxis, buses or sober friends but don't make good use of them.

Then there are celebrity drunk drivers. ALL OF YOU DESERVE TO BE IN JAIL.

Paris, Britney, Lindsey, that Kardashian sister and all their privileged friends not only have TONS of money for cab fare or a limo, they have enough money to HIRE A CHAUFFER permanently. Celebrities don't have to drive ANYWHERE if they don't want to and they sure as fuck don't "have" to drive drunk or high or loaded on Valium.

I don't give a shit about your Bently, your pocket-size great dane, your Jimmy Choos or your Fendi bag. Those things don't make you a nice person or a smart person and money can't buy you a good soul. You're spoiled ignorant hookers and any one of you should spend a day in my life or the life of one of my friends and see what it's like to work a long effing day, get paid in peanuts, drive home in a car with mis-matched tires or squeaking belts, have to clean your own kitchen, check your own mail or wipe your own ass. OH... and NOT drive while under the influence. Gee... if we mere simple peasants can do it, why can't you?

Driving drunk is lame and dangerous and if you live in Kansas City and you can't pull your head out of your butt long enough to figure out a way to drink WITHOUT getting behind the wheel, use Grab A Cab from EAP. Unlike me, these people take pity on your stupid ass and they will reimburse your cab fare for doing the right thing by NOT driving yourself home. Ask your employer if your company participates in EAP.

Since I'm not a total Scrooge (well, mostly but not completely) I would like to say - HAPPY Holidays!

Please be safe and beware of morons in SUVs. I care about y'all and want you to enjoy your festivities!

Eat lots of good stuff, give your friends and family TONS of hugs, volunteer for something close to your heart and stay warm!

Jingle!
~Buffie

The Curse 04Dec07

2007-12-04T18:36:00.000-08:00

2007 has NOT been kind to Buffie.

I started the year with the mysterious loss of a toenail. (Alright, it wasn't that mysterious. I tripped over a shoe sneaking to the potty in the middle of the night and broke it, but didn't know it until the next day.)

Then... I got SARS followed by bird flu, then monkey pox. That's how it felt anyway. Turns out it was just a vicious case of bronchitis and I was starting to develop pneumonia. Thankfully my immune system woke itself up and fought back before I totally succumbed to the nasties.

THEN... I drop a HOT curling iron down my shirt. Burned the fucking hell out of my left booby. How much did that suck? You have no idea.

It gets better... a couple days after the curling iron scar starts to heal, I break a toe! I effing BROKE my toe. WTF! It was exactly how people say, too. You think you have stubbed it really bad, but then you look down and it's pointing the wrong way and the horror sets in about the same time the pain does. Geezus. Mr. Buffie picked up my foot, very carefully examined my toe and without warning he grabbed it and pulled it straight. Pretty sure the neighbors 3 blocks away heard me squeal. That was some wicked pain. The days after were fascinating, watching it turn so many shades of purple, green, blue, red and yellow. Fascinating and disgusting. Walking was OK, but there were no heels in my wardrobe for weeks. Blah! It's also true what they say that you can't do anything for a broken toe. I called my doc and she said if it was straight, the best she could do would be to tape it to my other toes and send me on my way... Hells bells, I could do that myself.

Then I got sick again... this time it was a different strain of 3rd world disease all coming together in my sinuses to make me wish I were dead. Completely unfair.

Sold my Jaguar. Made me sad for a while because that was the fucking sweetest ride I'll ever have. Nigel was a kickass car. However, Nigel was starting to make a strange noise. We could never figure out what it was. Strange noises in British cars mean cubic dollars spent on parts and labor only for a new strange noise to develop two months later. Time to go back to American automobiles. Got me a damn fine Z28 and named him Billy Idol. But what do I discover after having him for a month? There's a DEAD SPIDER -INSIDE- my instrument panel. Did you know the front glass on the instrument panel cannot be removed? It can't. Not without removing the entire dash. Yes, the whole goddamned enchilada. There's a dead motherfucking spider stuck right under my oil pressure gauge. GGGGGRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Had an abscess in my lower jaw in June. Not my idea of a good time. Had some x-rays done and the dentist thought it was just some freak thing we would 'keep an eye on' but felt like antibiotics would do the trick. They did... but it hurt like hell in the meantime. Blah!

Found a great house... moved in July. JULY. July in Missouri is like being in an oven with a pot of water. Humid, hot and no damn wind at all. Moving in July is punishment for crimes I must have committed in a former life because this is the 3rd time I've done it.

Developed a nice case of chronic hives in August. Doc can't figure it out. Allergist can't figure it out. Holistic healer guru can't figure it out. They all strongly suspect I'm allergic to the shrimps. No one loves the shrimps more than I love the shrimps. But now I cannot eat the shrimps. I think the shrimps did this to me. It was shrimp revenge. They feared I would eat them ALL. Here's a warning to you shrimps! If I ever find out the cause of my red itchy welts, and it ISN'T a seafood allergy, you better run and hide because I'll be on you like a Buffie on shrimps! HA!

Moving right along... things at work are in a constant state of chaos. My boss, who was the most awesome individual ever and the best boss I will ever have in my life, quit unexpectedly. I stand behind her decision, but I'm so very sad. Things are just wrong around there without her. Completely wrong. She is missed every day.

Went in for my dreaded annual mammogram. Having one's boobs smashed mercilessly in a torture device invented by Satan himself is something a woman shouldn't have to endure EVER, but because God is clearly a man and secretly hates us all, we get to do this crap on a yearly basis! Just like a birthday, only shitty! Yay! What happens next? The radiologist thinks there's something in one of my films, so I get to go back a few weeks later and have it done AGAIN! Oh the joy! The happiness! What a thrill! What was it? Turned out to be nothing. I'm glad for that, don't misunderstand me... but since I had an extra one this year, can I skip it next year? Please?

In case my feet haven't been through enough this year, I break ANOTHER TOE recently. Yes, another one!!! Same foot, different toe. What is WRONG with me? This time it was in broad daylight and I tripped over a chair. Maybe my boobs blocked me from seeing it or else I have inner-ear balance issues, but I totally snagged myself on a chair. I'm special.

To top it all off, last week, dental surgery. No, I'm not kidding! Molar extraction! Came out of no where!!! I was having some pain in a tooth where I had undergone a root canal about a year before... same one that abscessed in June. We know why it abscessed now... root was cracked so the root canal never fully healed at all. 2007 has clamied a Buffie toe nail AND a Buffie tooth. That's fucked up.

2008, you can't get here soon enough! Please hurry!!! I'm scared I'll wake up missing a nostril or something awful like that.

Oh... 2007... fuck you!

Mr. Buffie Says... 14Nov07

2007-11-14T18:35:00.000-08:00

Some people are like Slinkies. Not really good for anything, but they bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

~gigglesgigglesgiggles~

Advice for the day...

Watch David Lynch films at your own risk. It's two hours of your life you will NOT get back.

Caught in the act. 13Nov07

2007-11-13T18:34:00.000-08:00

I'm busted. Watching junk TV again. This time it was Life in the Fab Lane with Kimora Lee Simmons.

At first, I wanted to like it because she's like a big Barbie doll. You want to brush her hair and borrow her earrings.

But NO. I don't like it and it kinda bums me out. She's grumpy. I mean really grumpy. And she's scary. Cute girls are not supposed to act like that. They're supposed to be fun and nice and silly. She has rare fits of silly which are swiftly and often interrupted by bad trips down Crabby Nag Diva lane.

She makes crazy demands on this real-estate guy who spends most of his time on camera looking terrified of her. If there were a little 'thought bubble' over his head, it would say something like "Please lady, don't twist it /completely/ off." Poor schmo.

She yells a lot and complains complains complains complains. When did it become vogue to have luxury cars, mansions, expansive closets dripping in designer labels and act like life is just soooooooooooooo impossibly hard. Oh boo hoo. The plight of the celebrities! It's heartbreaking!

She's a mom. Uh huh. So are about a jilliondy other women on this planet. Having reproduced isn't license to push around friends and associates. What was up with being like 5 hours late for a photo shoot? People who do that sort of thing in the regular joe world get fired. Having a buttload of money and nice swag doesn't make a person too good to act respectfully, responsibly, or patient and tolerant of other people. Is it just the way the show is editied? Maybe she is super polite and stuff but they just show her joking around and you don't know she's kidding? Could that be it?

I don't know, either way, I don't want to watch it any more because it's a total buzzkill and watching junk TV isn't supposed to be a downer.

And don't get me wrong. I like celebrities as much as anyone else. Their movies and TV shows and magazine fodder are a nice distraction from 'real life'. But it's WAY more of a good time to see celebrities having a blast than it is to watch them moan and groan and fuss. If I wan't to see a shitty attitude, I'll go spend a day with some sullen teenagers.

Now *I'm* the one who's complaining! Oh no! See? See what you've done, Kimora??? It's a vicious circle! Must ... break ... away!

My little kitty was talking (meowing) in her sleep just now. Precious! So precious! It's also squeaky cute when she yawns in the middle of a meow. It comes out meyawwwwwn! Charo likes to talk on the phone with Misse and Gwen. I think she talked to Lisa, too. And she talks to my mum. She sees me on the phone and she will say "MAOW!" Charo doesn't mee-oww. She MAOWs. It's L O U D too. MAOW! One time, Mr. Buffie and I looked for cat videos and sounds on YouTube because we were trying to find cats that sounded like Whimsey (little scratchy oww) and Charo (MAOW). The closest we got was a Siamese who said MEAOW! Whimsey's voice is pretty unique. It's a very quiet and sweet sounding oww. The irony being that Whimsey is the mess-you-up-like-knife-warrior cat and Charo is the snuggle-you-all-over cat.

=)

I'm rambling. =) again.

Back from Boston 04Nov07

2007-11-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

It's been a week since I've been back from Boston. Mostly I have thought about my friends and food. ... and the fact that traffic is not THAT nuts in Kansas City.

Got to see my dearest Lisa! That rocked so hard core! ~waves to Lisa~ So happy to see her and have sushi with her and laugh about wacky shit and I can't wait to do it again!!! She still rocks red lips like no one I've ever seen before.

Also spent a lot of time with Gwen!!! All fabulous, all the time, yes a rockstar all the way! Her latest Malice in Wonderland photos are evidence of that. Miss Olivia, complete bombdiggity doll with the sweetest smile! Sassy, all that and more and then some and more. Nicole, always a sugar and what a killer rack!

And of course, the Big Cuties. My wonderful BC sisters! It's like being in the best soroity ever created! Except we don't live together and stuff. But still, we're all members of a very kickass group of hot chicks.

It was such a great trip! I'm glad to be home, but I miss y'all! Pout Pout Pout. I miss the FOOOOOOOD. Ohmigawd, the food.

Thursday was fish and chips and coleslaw and broiled swordfish and butternut squash from the Sea Witch. Mmmmmm, so delicious. Dinner was liquor and Dunkin Donuts. How excellent is that?! YEAH! Mr. Buffie proclaimed it Best Fish n Chips EVER. I agree.

Friday was roast beef, onion rings, Gwen's cheese n bacon fried and a fish sandwich from Kelly's. Excellent, but the service was shitty. For dinner was Samba teppanyaki at Samba in Framingham. I think the tiny Asian wait-staff was a little worried by the hungry and proud of it group of groovy BBWs and the men who adore us. We ate the house. Heather, thank you so much for the invite. It was fantastic! We had sushi, followed by steak, vegetables, rice, curry sauce and not nearly enough of it. I could have eaten more. Yummm!

Saturday we enjoyed good old pizza and beer.

Sunday came too soon and it was time to go, but we made a last minute cruise through Salem (a total madhouse, people EVERYWHERE yuck) but found a very creepy cool old cemetary and walked around there for a while. Hee hee hee! Perfect thing to do! Saw a mob pay off at Bill n Bob's Roast Beef. Way better than Kelly's roast beef, way better service too (if not a teensy bit hard to understand, the accent! Awesome)! Killer french fries, too. Enjoyed dinner at the airport. How often do you hear people say that? LOL We did enjoy it though. There's a Legal Seafood at Logan! Mr. Buffie had gumbo. Strange choice on the east coast, but it wasn't half bad. I enjoyed a grilled to perfection tuna steak with steamed broccoli and mashed new potatoes. Heavenly. Had a mojito for desert.

Even on the plane home I had my Midwest hot chocolate chip cookies. I was worried they had discontinued to practice since I was denied cookies on the flight up. A fricking GRANOLA BAR was given to me instead. Hrmph. I need not your granola, Midwest. I pay extra for your fucking cookies goddammit. You have extra wide leather seats. That means you welcome my chunky butt. You want my chunky money, you give me cookies. See how that works? Not on one flight but on EVERY flight. You promised! You know weeks in advance I'll be there. Just meet me at the gate with cookies and ginger ale. I order the same thing every time, geez. Don't you keep track? You skip my cookies and someone's going to have a bloody nose, understand me?

All in all, what a great way to spend a fall break! Halloween in Boston is like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Too much fun! Oh the costume contest! I forgot to talk about that. Truth is, I don't remember much of it because I was most tipsy! LOL But judging from the pictures, it was a good time. Hee hee hee. Will post some on my profile pics. =)

The only bummer was not having Misse there to enjoy it, too. She's such a dedicated student though I understand why she takes school so seriously. That's why she rules!

Hugs to all my girlie friends! Mmmmmmuaaahhhh!

Kitty Glitter - A Documentary

Challenge: iPhone State of the Union ... Buddiezzzz

There's a reason they call 'em private parts.

Remember those old rechargeable batteries?

Like kitty litter through the scoopy thing, these are the convos of my life

Knowing That We Know Nothing

A Cure for the Common Fattie

Maybe it's just a bad mood?

Don't know what you've got til it's gum.

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

If Catherine Zeta-Jones can do it...

Why are your bad decisions my responsibility?

Fifty Pounds of Douche in a Five Pound Bag

Under the Covers

Thanksgiving by Numbers.

Maura and the Big Fat Horror

Ever wake up five years later and go "what the fork was I thinking?!"

An indication that you've had enough.

Your Fluff Welcome Here

Hi Buff, I'm a big fan of your modeling carreer. Do you wear also sexy cleavage and mini skirt in your daily.

Are there any celebrities, actresses, or other such female famous peoplez specifically who you think gaining weight would be an improvement, E.G. improve there looks, make them sexier good for them or make em see the world through a larger girls eyes <;]

What's the craziest movie you've ever seen? The kind that just make you scratch your head and say WTF?

Buffie, I think your a real sex bomb of the SSBBW and a model to "big" women. Would you like to pose on Playboy or similar?

What is your all time favorite photo of yourself and why? If the photo is available online can you direct the world to it?

Do you take it in the ass? If yes, do you like it?

You can have lunch with 3 people in all of human history, who you have lunch with and why?

What "clique" were you with in school?

What is the next big thing that you are looking forward to in your life?

Why is there such an ugly divide in the US right now?

Is it okay to double dip?

Otherwise I never would have known.

I'm fat?

WHAT???

Why, thank you for pointing that out. I was completely unaware until you so helpfully clued me in. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Because of your disdain for my size, I will immediately begin starving myself in order to gain your approval./end sarcasm

formspring.me

Tetas en Rosado

I have become "memorably" numb?

When Bad Weekends Happen to Good Buffies

People of Wal-Mart. They've got it. You WISH you had it.

WARNING: Google May Cause Good Deeds.

Buffie's Super Awesome Friday

Where is your line drawn?

*^_^* I Don't Just Make This Stuff Up *^_^*

All Aboad the Bipolar Express!

The Toughest Girl Alive is also a Super Hero.

The glass is half empty? The glass is half full? Doesn't matter, I just need enough to swallow this pill...

Is she really going /there/? Oh yes. I am SO going there.

Nice Chevelle.

Oh my god, oh my god you guys!

Totally Moving My Blog from MySpace to a more "grown up" place.

Buffie's Most Very Helpful Tip of the Day! Adjust Yer attitoood. 15Apr09

Did "God" tell them personally or something? 06Apr09

One Peep Over the Line 26Mar09

My cat's got knees. 24Mar09

Guess I /could/ actually follow through - for once. 19Mar09

I was going to post a new blog tonight. 18Mar09

Mr. Buffie Doesn't Do. 26Feb09

Original Sin - How it /rilly/ happened. 14Feb09

Buffie Wastes a Minute of Your Time. 12Feb09

Buffie's Useless Tip of the Day! 29Jan09

So we all caught fat flu? Fox doesn't even try to hide the fact that they're haters. 26Jan09

Holy gawd, I did it again! 25Jan09

The zombies... drive Chevy Cavaliers. 29Oct08

If you don’t talk to your husband about Crocs, who will? 12Oct08

Do you really know what you think you know? 03Oct08

I don’t have like a "fancy" MySpace. Does that mean I’m square? 02Oct08

So what if his face hasn’t fallen off his head? 23Sept08

Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers! 20Aug08

Perez Hilton goes from fat... to fat hater? Must be bitchy cuz he’s HUNGRY! 09Aug08

From the ashes of the most insignificant thing I’ve done all day... 07Aug08

She LIES! Jillian Barberie and Nutrisystem LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE! 05Aug08

Ramble at your own risk! BEWARE! People may actually read it! 04Aug08

Noise in the Hood. 26Jun08

Oops Kanye Did It Again... 25Jun08

Dear Subway... 22Jun08

Obscenity and the common pin up. 12Jun08

The White Bandage of Courage - or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Tumor. 04Jun08

Rock of Love is a delightful slut-fest. Why do I watch this junk!?!? 22Apr08

Crybabies! 01Apr08

Big FAT Valentine - Here’s to the loves in my life. 04Feb08

Why, thank you for pointing that out. I was completely unaware until you so helpfully clued me in. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Because of your disdain for my size, I will immediately begin starving myself in order to gain your approval.

/end sarcasm

^_^ I Don't Just Make This Stuff Up ^_^