Here's To Good Mental Health

I received this from a friend today. She said it reminder her of me. I wonder why?

You Go, Jane Doe

Please don't allow the kitchy rhyme of the title of this post to take away from the seriousness of the subject matter. If you haven't been following the horrific rape trial going on in Orange County, Jane Doe successfully won her criminal case, thank god. Below is a link to her statement. Read with caution, it tough to bear, but necessary in my opinion.

OC Rape Survivor's Statement

Per Flea, over at One Good Thing, Jane Doe's lawyer is collecting letters of support for her client, via this email address: ihiroe@yahoo.com, for her upcoming civil suit against the defense attorney and the family of the convicted rapists.

For what this poor woman has gone through, from the brutal rape through the most vicious of vicious court trials, she deserves some words of encouragement from anyone who appreciates the impact of what she's done and for what she is still doing. She is standing up for all women, enduring the ridicule and reliving the torture of her situation, and we should all be thankful for her strength. We hope this case has some impact on the future of victimized women everywhere.

Oh Frodo.

TBS has the best promo's for the Lord of the Rings. The Frodo and Samwise Gangee montage to "Secret Lovers" by Alantic Starr.

Best. Ever.

David Hasselstalk

What ever happened to the good old days when Michael Knight and his best friend K.I.T.T. fought crime and kicked criminal ass together?

Now Michael is no more than a criminal himself. Something tells me K.I.T.T. would be very dissappointed in him. No matter how big of a "star" you are in Germany, domestic violence is not the answer.

Livin' In A Shredder's Paradise

St. Pauly Boy bought us a shredder recently. We had just watched the movie Lord Of War in which a federal agent is able to piece together documents that had been put through a regular "strip" shredder, which is what I believe sparked SPB's interest in getting us a shredder A.S.A.P. (NOTE: We are not arms dealers. My husband is simply paranoid.) So the contraption that SPB brought home is one of those ones that shreds paper into confetti sized bits.

I used to think SPB was just overly cautious when it came to the security of our personal information. We have an unlisted & blocked phone number, our computers are all password protected (alongside other measures of security), and our mail has always been destroyed prior to being placed in the garbage. Apparently ripping your mail in half or even in smaller pieces, isn't enough to protect yourself. Exibit A for owning a confetti shredder.

I'm thankful for SPB's paranoia. And I'm incredibly scared about the length at which credit card companies will compromise your security just to make a buck.

Point of Insanity

I'm there. The last 2 weeks have been completely, unbearably insane. My mind has not yet caught up to my body, which has been operating on pure adreneline for the last few days. At least St. Patty's Day was a success. St. Pauly Boy and I had a *few* pints at our favorite neighborhood pub. It was packed with people, which normally, due to the stage of adulthood that I've entered, pisses me off and causes me to immediately retreat to my couch and my Tivo remote. But instead, the crowd energized me. All of the blinking green beer ad buttons and the green plastic hats, it was cheesy goodness. Our bartenders, being good friends of ours at this point, were equally intoxicated due to the "one for you, one for me" rule on the whiskey shots (none of which I ordered for myself, by the way). I ended the night, by myself at the pub since St. Pauly Boy and our overnight guests (not out of towners, rather, non-drunk-drivers) went home and I demanded that the night was not yet over for me. Apparently I was not quite capable of determining my "end of the night" because around 3am, while I'm sitting around with my bar family, singing and hugging and proclaiming our eternal love for each other, SPB walked back in the bar. And after being escorted home (1 block of stumbling down the sidewalk hanging on SPB's arm the whole way and blubbering how sorry I was for being such a bad wife), the end of my night was clearly marked by the blackout.

When I awoke, around 11:30 the next day, I was still slightly intoxicated. Just enough to make me giggle at everything. We had a relaxing day, laying around, watching movies and eating junk food. Happy freaking St. Patrick's Day, what a success!!

Last night I met another friend of ours who is a "regular" at our friendly neighborhood pub and I was greeted by my bar family with a lot more attention than I was expecting. I got a "how were you feeling Saturday morning?", followed by a "HEY drunk ass!!", follwed by a "all I have to say is....impressive performance!!". After inquiring about the nature of these reactions (basically throwing my face in my hands and wimpering "oh.my.god. I'm so embarrassed!!", they assured me that I had in no way acted like a complete idiot or performed any truly fucked up acts of drunkenness, just that I was basically the MVP of St. Patrick's Day. Cheers to Boss Man B, for putting up with me at 3am when you were trying to get all of the other patrons to leave even though I wouldn't. Cheers to B.B. for serving me Miller Lite at the end of the night, at my request, even though you know that's not normally my beer of choice but for some reason I was determined to drink it anyway. Cheers to Smiley, for huddling with me in the corner while BMB had his meltdown and started throwing stuff because no one was leaving his bar quick enough (including...us.). And cheers to D & K for the lovely shots of Irish Whiskey, which I actually detest, but you forced me to endure in honor of the holy day. Soberly, I love you all as much as I love you drunkenly.

And most of all, CHEERS to my St. Pauly Boy, for only staying mad at me for a few minutes, accepting my apology and my vow to never make him leave the bar without me (or have to walk back down there to drag my drunk ass home).

Black Beer & Green Rivers.

What more could you want from the best holiday of the year?

(Photo courtesy of my camera and the Gravity Bar)



(Photo courtesy of my friend Josh, who's from Chicago. Where they dye the river green for St. Patty's Day. Duh.)

That's right Lads & Lassies........it's ST. PATRICK'S DAY!

When St. Pauly Boy and I were in Ireland last year, we toured the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin. There's a reason it's the #1 tourist hot spot in that city....it's freaking fantastic. Here is one of my favorite photo's (besides the one up top with the 2 delicious pints) from the GS:

With that, let's raise our pints up to the gods and toast the pure goodness that is Irish.

When we drink, we get drunk.

When we get drunk, we fall asleep.

When we fall asleep, we commit no sin.

When we commit no sin, we go to heaven.

So, let's all get drunk, and go to heaven!

(Screw you, Dante, the Irish are going to HEAVEN!!!)

Happy St. Patrick's Day, Everyone!

You're Going To Hell. Not Just Figuratively.

I always kind of assumed, but thankfully I can now confirm. I'm going to hell. What a weight off my shoulders. (Thanks (again) to ASS for the linkage.)

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Third Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

See you there!

Hey Ya'll!

Sorry I've been MIA this week. Sorry to all 2 of you. I was in Nashville for work. Outside of the nice weather, it was painful. I'm not so sure Nashville is my "scene". But that's ok. I'm back to 9 feet of snow and a dog that badly needs a haircut. I'm happy.

I'm catching up on my favorite blogging and need to give props to this:

Don't Impeach; Impale (courtesy of ASS).

And this:

How To Teach Your Children The "F" Word (courtesy of Bitch Ph.D..

Just awesome. Perfect re-entry entries to get me back into the internets.

This puts it in perspective.

"If life ever gets you down, just say, fuck it, i need some mother-fucking candy." - David Sedaris

(At least that's how I think it goes, if I'm wrong, bitch me out.)

Favorite. Thing. Ever.

This completely rocks my world.

Caribou Card - Online Functionality!

Are you kidding me?? I can add money to my Caribou card, online?? And, if I trust the stability of the money flow in my bank account, I can set it up to automatically put more money on my Caribou card so that I'm never without my Medium Lightroast (unless it's Rainforest or Sumatra, those are the only darks I drink)?? And then maybe I can place the order for my Medium Lightroast online and that super hot guy at the downstairs Caribou will bring it up to me?? No?? Who do I talk to about implementing this process?

Tomboy Tuesday

I'm a sports-aholic. I listen to sports talk radio on a daily basis. I watch Sports Center. Often. I am dangerously attached to my hometown teams. St Pauly Boy and I are MN Wild season ticket holders, our Sunday's revolve around the NFL (when it's in season), I am the only woman that I know that watches the entire NFL draft. The NFL DRAFT! And I enjoy it. WTF?? Even my bachelorette party revolved around sports...with a Twins game.

I noticed that I don't talk much about sports on this blog. After thinking about that, I realized that I started this blog in the height of our winter depression. One of the only things that helps me get through the winter depression in MN is good sports. Yeah, we haven't had a lot of good sports happening in MN lately. The Timberwolves are just hideous (to the point that I'm not even going to link to them) and the Wild, while always fun to watch live, just aren't that good. The Gopher hockey team is the only one with promise, but somehow still haven't brought me enough excitement to make a difference.

I didn't want to have to start my "Tomboy Tuesday" on such a sad note. We have lost a sports legend. At the young age of 45, Kirby Puckett has died. He was a staple in my childhood, a hero, one of the very reasons I am such a sports fanatic and devoted Twins fan to this day. His place in MN sports history contains the best sports memories of my life. I don't care how pathetic this may sound, but I'm too sad to even talk about it. I'll have to write more later.

Farewell, Kirby.

Most Appropriate Polital Paraphernalia Ever.

WTF?

Condy and Her Hot Body

Tell me why this is newsworthy. Please. Explain.

Political Figure Fitness

After you get over the initial sentence..."Public figures usually do not go public when they work on their figures, though when they do, it can help humanize their images."...(ummmm, huh, did someone say something about public....or was it figures....I'm lost), continue on to read about why it's important for us to understand the message of the article. You didn't get the message, you say? Well, here you go. Loud and clear.

You're all fat.

And unhealthy.

And if a woman of such great importance to our goverment can make time out of here busy Bush-kissing ass schedule, then so can you.

You are the scum of the earth.

End message.

Just wanted to make sure that's understood.