Tuesday, December 04, 2007

You know I only hit you 'cause I love you, Baby.

I really want to beat somebody up. You know... hit someone repeatedly until they crawl away crying.

And I don't mind telling you I don't feel one bit bad about it either. Well maybe a little bad, but not bad enough to prevent me from striking someone for little or no reason.

I just wish I knew why.

Christmas is coming, which actually makes me happy. I am a big fan of shiny things and of having dead trees in the house and thankfully my religion demands that I do both once a year.

Cross Christmas off the list of things that are upsetting me to the point of violence.

There are roughly 500 pounds of grain fed Angus in my freezers, which also brings me a certain amount of happiness. Something about knowing I can have a T-Bone for breakfast with a hamburger back gives me a feeling of great superiority over those without massive amounts of beef.

Obviously it isn't a lack of Vitamin Red Meat that has turned me wicked mean then.

As I sit here typing, I notice no cramps, bloating or cravings involving salt, chocolate and/or the souls of Victoria Secret models.

Strike through My Time of the Month.

I have more than $100 in my checking account, but less than One Billion. I figure that's a good space to be in actually. Less than a hundred means I can't buy frozen coffee drinks whenever I want but more than One Billion means some fat guy from the Enquirer will make his living going through my trash.

Not money then.

I'm watching a color television set right now at this very minute. No reason to be pissed about that. I know people that have lived their entire lives never having realized Oprah is black or Lucy was a red head.

No I don't.

I guess I really have no idea why I want to wail away on the next person who walks through my front door and I guess that's going to have to be OK. Anger is healthy after all and beating a person who doesn't want to be beaten is excellent aerobic exercise. I'm always saying I need to get more exercise.

Hey you. Come here a minute.

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suburbancorrespondent said...

Lucy was a redhead? Really?

TSG said...

With four sisters I learned at a very early age not to hit girls, and I never have.
But I think you, (in your current state of mind) and one or two of my sisters together could clean up on anyone at the local pool hall. (Loggers included.) Might be a fun vacation trip. Think about it!

Jami said...

Sher - if you decide to take TSG up on his offer, let me know. I think I know someone who can get us a really good Pay-Per-View deal to broadcast that kind of bout. Until then, I'm staying out of arm's reach.

Sher said...


Totally. You should save up and git you one of 'em colored TV sets.


I'm so there. Next stop on my kicking ass tour... Toad Suck Pool Hall and Dating Emporium.


You wanna go with me??? I'm pretty sure those loggers ain't never seen nothing like us.

BTW... my word verification below this comment is actually "icy hel".

Icy hell indeed.

Flutterby said...

Beef... it's what's for dinner for the next twelve years if you eat at Sher's house. But damn that sounds good... I could go for 500 pounds of it but I would have to buy a new freezer. The one I have is full of freaking chicken. But not 500 pounds of it.

TSG said...

If you and Jami are coming to "kick logger ass" you will need a couple of nicknames. ALL loggers have nicknames.