And, she's spent.

But there's so much that needs to be said before I go.

This has been some ride, ladies and gents. Truly amazing.

I never would have believed I had this in me. I am long past the days of partying, staying up all night and seeing the day from sunrise to sunrise. But, here I am...and so many of you stayed with me through the night to help me reach this vision.

This goal was very important to me. Certainly foremost, because of the money we have just raised for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. $1,245.00, People. Nothing to scoff at. That's substantial cash and will help the life and welfare of many children who might not have ever gotten a second chance had we not intervened.

The second reason was more personal.

My best friend, Norman Patton, died on August 11th of 2004. He was born on July 29th. I won't give you the year, because he'd bitchslap my ass. This blogathon was taking place on his birthday, and I couldn't think of a better way to honor him than by working for the cause he was so passionate about during his lifetime.

He died from AIDS related complications.

Norman had been sick for some time, but you would have never known it. He was a beautiful, gentle and loving soul. When my husband and I were having marital problems (yes, believe it or not, we weren't always this perfect couple you see before you), Norman took hold of my hands and told me....

"Babygirl. He's gonna be back with you. You know why? Because God wants you two together. He's coming home. And when he does, you two will never be apart again. God wants this for you, for him...for the kids. Give him time. He'll be home."

We had been married a hot three months and I was already contemplating divorcing him. He didn't cheat. That would be a dealbreaker. But he lied. A lot. He wasn't honest with me, himself or his family. But Norman was right. He came home. And true to his word, we have never been apart since. Norman could sense it. He knew. He had this sixth sense about people. He was enlightened. A peaceful soul with a freak flag that he loved to fly! He was all about the rainbows and puppies. He was the sun, moon, stars and gay bars. He was an absolute Diva and I envied how he lived. And then, instead of envying, I opted to emulate.

The man was not living with dying. He was just living. He knew his death was imminent, but he never dwelled on it. He never second-guessed God. He never pitied his misfortune. He never had a woe as me, defeated attitude. Instead, he took his life lesson to the streets and he taught. He educated. He spoke up and he spoke out. He lifted his voice to anyone who would listen.

AIDS is not something you die from, but rather, something you learn to live with. You go on. You don't bury your head. You don't give up. He reached upward and outward to those who were suffering physically and emotionally with this disease. He wouldn't let them degrade or belittle themselves.

When people gay-bashed, Norman didn't retort with anger. He taught. He educated. He did the best he could to make everyone understand that AIDS is not passed on by a handshake, a touch or even a gentle kiss. And if someone was real ornery, he would turn to the ugliest of souls and tell them...

"Shhhhhhhhhhh. Baby. God don't like ugly. Play nice."

Then, blow a perfunctory kiss in their direction.

It's hard for me living day to day without him. I loved him. Not in the fag hag Will and Grace sort of way...but genuinely, truly, affectionately. He was my friend. He was my best friend...and now, he is gone.

In a way, I feel that the past 24 hours have been a tribute to him. He would have loved this. He would have played right along with all the trivia. He would have admonished me for not wearing makeup all night long. He'd REALLY be ticked off about my hair. Shit. I haven't had a decent haircut since he died. Oh, and the stories he would have told you about me.

It's funny. I met Norman and the Hotband at the same point in my life. Both of them placed an indelible mark on my heart and soul. While I mourn one, I celebrate life with the other. My husband is an ever present reminder of the reason that Norman and I became best friends in the first place.

We were arguing with each other as to which one of us was going to sleep with him first.

I can't help but laugh at the memory.

And I got the best of both worlds. I got to keep both of them. Forever.

So, I want to thank all of you, each and every last one of you, for being by my side through the duration of this of this event. I thank those of you who supported me with calls, emails, messages, comments, etc. Even if you couldn't donate your money, you donated your time to help me accomplish the goal...and that's huge.

I thank you. I love you. I appreciate you.

I'm crying now. I'm not sure if it's the lack of sleep or the overwhelming emotion.

Regardless, each tear is joy. Absolute joy.

From my home to yours...may you always feel the gratitude, the humility and the humbling affection I am feeling from each of you right now. You did this for the children. You did this for me.

But best of all, you did this for yourselves. I was merely driving the car that you fueled.

This was grace, pure and true.



To sleep, perchance to dream...










Goodnight, Sweet Prince. Wherever you are.

I love you.

Sniff sniff...

Hm.

Is that my BED I smell? *sniff sniff*

Yes. It is beckoning. Closer. Closer. The time is drawing near.

This post is lame.

23 and a half hours.

The last time I did anything for that long, I became pregnant.

You don't think that will happen again now, do you???

*adds more Febreze to the chair*

Top of the Hour Pic Post!

For Gin and KG...

My totally radical side ponytail!





So bitchin!

Me Myself and I.

You Have a Choleric Temperament

You are a person of great enthusiasm - easily excited by many things. Unsatisfied by the ordinary, you are reaching for an epic, extraordinary life. You want the best. The best life. The best love. The best reputation. You posses a sharp and keen intellect. Your mind is your primary weapon. Strong willed, nothing can keep you down. Your energy can break down any wall. You're an instantly passionate person - and this passion gives you an intoxicating power over others. At your worst, you are a narcissist. Full of yourself and even proud of your faults. Stubborn and opinionated, you know what you think is right. End of discussion. A bit of a misanthrope, you often see others as weak, ignorant, and inferior.

What Temperment Are You?

And?

So?

You mean it's NOT always about me?

Top of the Hour Pic Post...

The sun is crawling up and out.

The Hotband, the diehard love of my life, is by my side, working on a final picture post for the 8am hour. My house is so quiet. Just the tap tap tap of both of us side by side, pounding our keyboards.

It's nice. I feel good, serene and happy. Content, even.

This is what Sunday morning should be like.

Except I've never seen one before noon before.

I likely will never see one again...

'til next years Blogathon.

I am already working on...

the goodnight/goodbye post.

It's made me cry. I've had so much fun tonight. I am really emotional. Could be the lack of sleep. Could be listening to KG's mouth all friggin' night. Not sure, but whatever the reason, it's still been fun.

The sun is coming up here in sunny Florida.

I am thinking about what we have all accomplished together and I am in awe of it.

Nearly $1300 to the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. A bunch of virtual strangers banding together, in the name of friendship, to allow the dreams of innocent children continue.

I'm amazed by this group of Bloggers.

And I am completely grateful to call you all friends, in every sense.

Even you, Kentucky. Even you. *wink*

Top of the Hour Pic Post.

Febreze this, bitches.



Heh. April fresh for another 3 hours.

Fuck y'all.

Word.

Hostile Takeover!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What up, bitches? It's me, Laurie, from Beauty and the Beer all up IN CP's house!!! Thought I'd give the princess a MUCH needed break, seeing as I can smell her...uh, essence or whatever, as soon as I bounced up in this bitch. Seriously. Caress, before you dress. I've only got one nose and I'm about to cut it off. No lie.

I have a confession to make and I thought what better place than here....in the Land of Honesty and Whatnot.

Hotband......

......isn't going to Georgia.

We are having a secret love affair and he is meeting me in Aruba for a week of monkey sex.

It's true.

I know....I know....how DARE this white trash come over HERE, to the PRINCESS HOUSE, and talk some shit??? I can see it on all ya'll's faces. Allow me to explain, before you pass judgement.

HAVE you SEEN him??????? I mean, I've seen some hot dudes before....I've dated a few....I've broke a few of their hearts....I'm no virgin to the hotness that is the man, people. But, something about him....just....curls my toes. He is....a GOD.



Ok....that's not him. But it's close. Doesn't it look like he's yelling, "Laurie is MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!" or something? I totally think it does and when I touch my privates, this is the picture I have in my masturbatory photo collage that I keep in my head. I have to use a still shot from The Mummy because Hotband won't give me any pictures of himself for fear I will post about our love on my blog. I understand. I know my place.

I am his "Side Dish". I can hang.

So, we are meeting up in Aruba for to consummate our love.

I totally think he's gonna tell CP that it's OVER between them and THEN, we will be together...at last. I've always wanted to hump an Israeli. No lie.

Me and my little Mummy.

Ok...who am I kidding????

Not a ONE of you, I'm sure.

I'm just here....as a pawn....letting mah gurl wash her snatch. Somebody's GOTTA do it, and I'm your gal.

Anybody seen the Febreeze? This computer chair stinks.

Top of the Hour Pic Post.

It's 5am, Babies! You know what that means?

Me neither.

I guess it means that the whole lot of us are insane enough to continue to ride this out. I imagine by next year, it will be like having a baby again. You won't remember the painful part, only the good things.

I've been having a ball with you guys.



This is me, rockin' out to the Red Hot Chili Peppers "Dani California". Figured it was enough to get me head bangin'!

Oh, and the hotband?

Yeah. Still asleep.

Fucker.

It ain't right. It just ain't right I tell you.

That's okay. I'm going to wake up my son at 8am...and then, wake up daddy dearest to take care of him! Moo ha ha. Then, I shall make my last two posts and go to sleep. No "but babe, I'm leaving for a week" sex for this bastard. He is heading out for a business trip to Marietta, GA.

He can go there with the most beautiful Robin's Egg Blue Balls the world has ever seen for this little stunt of his.

I hope his sack doesn't burst from the pressure.

Dogbutt.

Guest Post from Gin!

CP said that I could do a guest post while she gets some extra-hot
loving from the Hotband in the shower. But after reading her posts
throughout the morning, I have to tell y'all a secret.

I am not worthy.

Why, do you ask? (And I know you are all asking.) Even though my
formative years were pretty much the entire 80s decade (born in '81 baby!),
I know about this much about that time period. (Picture me holding my
thumb and pointer finger about a millimeter apart.)

My personal opinion is that all the home perms my mom and grandma gave
me and my sisters fried the brain cells that contain the memories of
early life. Or maybe it was the neon green shirt with the neon pink
shorts with the neon yellow jellies that blinded everyone (including
ourselves) and we just cannot visually recollect any occurrences of that
time. Or maybe there's a memory-erasing agent in Aquanet, because god
knows between a woman and three girls in one family, we went through enough
Aquanet to create our own personal hole in the ozone.

And if y'all doubt these fashion disasters actually occurred or ask
yourselves why a mother would torture her children with what was
considered fashion in the 80s, I have put in calls to BOTH my sisters to email
photo evidence of that shit ASAP. Those pictures give the phrase "big
hair" a whole new meaning.

Uh-oh...I can see CP coming back to claim her throne as the rightful
Certifiable Jewish 80s Expert Princess.

Excuse me while I go run and hide in my bathroom - and possibly put my
hair in, like, a totally radical side ponytail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hm.

Who let HER in here? *LOL*

Damn it. Laurie left the door unlocked again. Wench.

Anyway, Laci won the music trivia. She's good. And fast! Oy. Maybe she will be a lovebug and post her answers in the comment section. She's bloggin' for a cause too...so if she posts her answers, stop by her blog too and offer her some support!

I'm one of her sponsors, so she BETTER be doing the right thing over there! *L*

See you at 5am.











Jesus. 5am?

*sobs*

Top of the Hour Picture Post! AND...Music Trivia!

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Nap. This is where I audioblogged from. Felt so good to lay down for a bit.

And this is my husband, sucking a WIENER...because you ARE what you EAT, Hotband! And you, my beloved, are a WEEEEEEEEEEEEENER!!!

Now, for those of you diehard enough to still be awake...ONTO MUSIC TRIVIA!

1) Who sang "Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone" and who did some guest singing in the song with this group?

2) What soap star of the 80's also sang a song called "State of the Heart"?

3) Two sisters formed a very big 80's group of the 80's. They sang a song about a shark. What was the song, who is the band...and who are the sisters?

4) Cyndi Lauper just wanted to have fun. What famous wrestling icon was in three of her music videos?

5) Who sang the song "Miss Me Blind"?

6) Abba had their very last number one hit in 1980. What was it?

7) The Police had their last number one hit in 1983. What was it?

8) We wanted our MTV and we got it!! What day, date and year did we get it and what was the first video ever played?

Go for it. You have until 4:30.

Audio Blog...cause I'm too tired to type.

And yes, it's 15 minutes early...but now, I can nap. Heh.

Top of the Hour Pic Post!

And this is why husbands suck...


"Oh baby. I will stay awake with you all night. I will make sure you get through this. I will be the best supporter ever. Don't worry. You can nap. I can take over for you anytime."

I don't THINK so, fucker.

I mean, seriously. This is the love I get? I am bloggin' for the CHILDREN...the CHILDREN, y'all. I am doing this for a good cause. A GREAT cause. I have racked up $1300 in support in a weeks time. I have people from all over the country calling me, messaging me, texting me, emailing me, commenting for me...and they don't even KNOW my ass.

You, however, you bald fucker...you are my HUSBAND. The HOTBAND! The one I talk about with so much reverance and love and affection.

I have let you violate holes I didn't even know could be violated...and THIS is the thanks I get? Shit. I think you might have even drilled a few of your own in various spots...and this is my thank you?

OH no no no, bitch. I don't THINK so.

So tomorrow? When you come "wagglin' yer junk" at me, telling me "it won't suck itself, babe"...I'm gonna tell you this:

Top of the......... aw, who the hell cares.

Resorting to Meme's...

cause I'm tired tired. *L*

You Are 5% Redneck

I'll slap you so hard, your clothes will be outta style. You ain't no redneck - you're all Yankee!

How Redneck Are You?

This one was sponsored by Laurie. *L* Slap yer hog and git on!

Top of the asdfioanfsdnnnnnnnn............

hoo boy.

It's starting to get to me people.

I am more than two-thirds of the way done. I think I am going into hour 17 right now. I am trying to focus on that...but it's getting harder. I'm really getting tired.

And now, with the hotband asleep, I'm toast. Dick. Told me he'd hang with me the whole night.

Eh. What the hell do you expect from Mr. Quicky McQuick Quick? I think I shall give him radically blue balls in the morning. But for now...



That's my tattoo. It's the only one I have. Its supposed to be a crescent moon, but as I have gotten fatter, the moon has gotten fuller. If I keep gaining weight, I will have the whole fucking Milky Way on my ass. Heh.

I got it when I was 30. Yes, 30. 10 damn years ago. I was NOT diggin' turning 30 at all and went out and got me some tattoo's up in North Cacklacky at Camp LeJeune where some dude I was shackin' up with was stationed. Hot. Nothing like getting your ass tatted in a Marine Corp Tattoo parlor. I have pics of it somewhere. Hm.

That would be funny to find and post!

Let me work on that.

Any tats? Where are they? What did they mean to you? Do you regret them?


HA! Check it out! This is a pic of me with Terry, the guy who did my tattoo! I can't find the pics of me actually GETTING my tat, but I did find this one floating out there on the internet! Check it out!



1996, People...although, someone forgot to tell my hair that.

Heh.

On the phone with DD...

You know all those righteous lookin' "I'm a Tough Ass Black Man!" pics he posts?

Yeah.

Don't believe the hype.

Bitch sounds like Ted Koeppel. He ain't black. Shit. Laurie sounds more ghetto than this brutha does! Hell. Laurie IS more ghetto than most. But I will tell you this...Dark Damian is one funny fucker.

He's been moving all day. Poor baby. Slavin' like the old days. 'Cept no one is whippin' him. Well, 'cept the wife. Heh. He told me that by the time I get to 6am I will be writing posts like...

"I like air. Air is good. Sometimes, I hold my breath to see what it is like to not have air. It's not good."

*LMAO* He's such a funny bastardo!

He is a very talented musician. Plays a mean bass guitar. Further proof that he is about as black as Tiger Woods or Hootie. Yes. Black man golfer. Black man folk pop singer. Black man bassist. Not buyin' it. None of it. It's a conspiracy to confuse the dumb white supremacists. White sheet buyin' mutha fuckers. Anyway, go show some love to my chocolate covered lollipop of hot assed love.

Hey, it can't be Israeli all the time, right?

The hotband has just fallen asleep.

This is the start of my being officially screwed.

He ain't hardcore like me.

I'm a convicted felon. 5 times in the joint. Word.

Top of the Hour Photo.

1 am.

I'm still here.

Who woulda thunk it?

This is the Hotband making the Universal Sign for something.

If you can tell me what the symbol is and what it means...you will win an ultra kinky prize!



That man is painfully fucking hot. Oy.

Am I wrong for wanting to do HIM, instead of THIS???


*the children, cp. think of the children.*

Ha. You chicken shits. No one did the prank call game. 'Cept for Laurie, who sang BRICK HOUSE at the top of her freakin' lungs! And she cheated anyway, cause she is dirty like that. She already HAD my home number. Asswipe.

On the phone with Big Pissy. She's a riot. She's talkin' to the hotband and invitin' him for some hot latina lovin' with her and her two daughters. Now how the hell am I supposed to compete with that? You have to hear this woman's voice. She is like...a Spanish Southern Belle! I can't even compare it to anything! It's like BUTTAH, darlin! Silky smooth, melt in your mouth, creamy buttah!

I gotta go eat some pudding now.

And the winner is................

Tense Teacher with 9 outta 10 correct!!!

You rock, babylove! You and the Geek were on fire with this one!

Sweet!

In the meantime, I have Pissy on one phone, Laurie on the other, Dark Damian, Jodi and Maven all up in my messengers!

Holy CRAP!!! THAT WAS FUN!!!

I'm so psyched.

Any requests for the next picture post?

Nothing dirty. Jodi's son is still up. *grin*

Top of the Hour Pic Post!!!

This post is going to be filled with a ton of shi...er, stuff (G-rated for Jodi's little boy!) *L*

First, keep plugging along at the 80's Music Trivia post! You keep sharing your answers, you dumb-butts! EMAIL them!!! *LOL* certifiableprincess AT YaHoO DoT CoM. Don't make this easier for the people at the bottom of the hour! ARE you out of your minds??? This is for a GREAT prize!

And now...the pic!




Yeah.

CP?

Lisa Lisa called. She and Cult Jam want their hair back.



*ahem*

Ready to play "Prank Me?"

I will give you the first 8 digits to my telephone number. Whoever figures out the last TWO, call me...sing really loudly into my ear and then, tell me who you are.

First one to ring my phone wins.

DONT POST THE PHONE NUMBER IN FULL UP HERE!!! *L*

Ready???

727-819-26 * *

Go!

MUSIC TRIVIA TIME...I LOVE THE 80's!!!

First one to answer EVERY QUESTION correctly wins. If you can't answer every question, answer as many as you can.

IF you are really cocky and don't want to share your answers, I will take Emailed submissions on this one as well.

certifiableprincess AT YaHoO DoT CoM.

1) This question is brought to you by the letter "P". Name FIVE 80's singers whose first name or last name starts with P...AND a song they sing!

2) "I won't harm you, or touch your defenses. Vanity, insecurity." Name the song and the artist.

3) Finish these lyrics: 'Too many men. Too many people, making too many problems,
and not much love to go round...'

4) What popular song had these lyrics: "Well, I talk about it, talk about it, talk about it, talk about it"?

5) Which Air Supply song began with the line, "I realize the best part of love is the thinnest slice"?

6) Who had a hit in 1985 with the song: In My House?

7) Who had the first "metal music" heavy metal album to EVER top the charts in the 1980's. Name the band...and one of their songs.

8) What 80's artist has sold the most albums in their career? Michael Jackson,
Lionel Richie, Prince or Bruce Springsteen?

9) "Waves crash baby, don't look back. I won't walk away again." What song is this from and who sings the crap out of it?

10) "Your lights are on, but you're not home,
Your mind is not your own.
Your heart sweats, your body shakes,
Another kiss is what it takes."
What's the next stanza to this song? What song is it? Who sings it?

Top of the Hour Piccie Postie!

More questions to the Hotband:

Pissy asks: I'm going to be in Atlanta on Thursday. Wanna meet for dinner one night?

Wow. I would love that. I work until midnight though. CP said I should just get you and your gorgeous daughters up in my hotel room. She would be jealous!

Jodi wants to know: What, besides CP's obvious good looks, awesome writing ability, and oozing sexuality attracted you to her royal ass??

Her royal ASS. I mean, LOOK at it!




*Sticks my tongue out at Kentucky Girl.* Yeah. WHO doesn't have a bangin' ass like J-Lo? I'm C-Tush, baby! *LOL*

Moving right along...

Annie wants to know: "CP acts so tough, and I certainly would NEVER want to get on her bad side, but I think she's really a soft, squishy creme puff inside. Do you think that's true? And if so, what do you think she's most tenderhearted about?"

Yeah, shes a big ol softy alright, especially when she sees a couple that is in love. She is a huge sucker for that. Also...for when I whip my junk out and ask her to hop on.

Summer wants to ask you: Have you ever done something embarrassing at a family function? (i.e. wedding, birthday party?)

I am THE most boring person alive, aside from maybe falling on my ass in my sisters wedding while trying to dance...I usually play it safe so I don't end up looking like a jackass.


Next half hour...80's MUSIC Trivia!!!

Yes, we are switching to music for a little while.

DAMN COCKEROACH!!!!

One of those flying surfboards just came RIGHT at my chair! Fucking HATE THEM!!!!!!! I screamed and freaked and erased my post!!! *LMAO*

Well, that shit certainly woke ME back the hell up.

Gawd. *eyeroll*

Here are some answers to your questions to Hotband:

Kentucky girl wants to know what is the most embarassing thing you ever saw me do in public.

I can't say she had ever done anything that would be embarassing to me...I would say she is more shocking then anything.


Jodi wants to know if you can make me download Yahoo Messenger.

I can't make her download it but I can help her with that.



Big Mama asks: what is the most embarassing thing you have ever DONE to THE Princess??? I want details! LOL!!!

Big Mama, I don't think there is amything I can do to embarass THE Princess, because somehow she would manipulate it, turn it around, and find a way for it to backfire right at me.

Big Pissy wants to know: How frequently do you take your laptop to the bathroom with you?

4 out of 5 times


Tense Teacher wants to know: Does anything that CP says ever surprise/shock you anymore?

Nothing new that she says, just the audience she chooses to say some things in front of. You know, things she says in public, or in front of the kids. She told our son the other day that everytime you forget to call your mother a kitten dies. Then she told him if you do it for a full week straight that your penis falls off. See what I mean?


Mr. Fab asks: How much would it take, or what would I have to do to um...rent his wife for one night? Name your price, man!

Brotha, ya just ain't got enough dough fo dat!!! I be the only PIMP she be wid!!!

Annie inquires: I believe CP said you have family in Israel?
How are they doing?

They are doing fine, thank you for asking. Some close calls, and the building where I grew up was hit last week, but all are doing okay so far.

Top of the Hour Picture Post...

and I am running behind schedule cause you are all mass-messaging me! *LMAO* It's hysterical! My phone, my email, three messengers...they are all pingin' and blingin' all over the damn place!

Excuse me while I pass out on my bed for a second and catch my breast...er, breath!



I just got off the phone with Big Pissy. What a southern drawl on that little Latina! It's hysterical! She's a fuckin' RIOT!

More at the bottom of the hour.

In the meantime, I need more questions for the Hotband. MORE, dammit! MORE!

(I'm a very demanding little bitch, aren't I?)

Recap.

The bottom of the hour posts are easier. I like them better.

Mr. Fab won the St. Elmo's Fire movie Trivia. Next game will be held at 11:30. But, I have a GREAT game for midnight. It's called "Prank me!" and it is going to be vital to my continued existance in this blogathon! It will also be very funny and a good way to earn prizes, cause you CANT GOOGLE THIS GAME!

Mwahahhahaaaaa. So there.

In the meantime, in the comments...ask the Hotband a Question! Anything. Anything you want to know about me, him, our ass eating animals, the kids, life, etc. And he will be answering the questions as I compile them.

So...do it! Ask The Hotband! NO question off limits!

Have fun!

So, I'm in AIM and chattin' it up with Jen and we are talking about British words. Hello? Did any of you know that a "fanny" is a vagina in England and a "bum" is an ass? A "boot" is the trunk of your car and a "flat" is an apartment. A "lift" is an elevator. How weird is all of this? A queue is a line.

Aren't you excited I told you all of this?

You know you are.

Hour 12 - MILESTONE!!!! Picture Time!

Halfway there, babies. I'm chuggin' along like an old fat Jew bitch should. I'm huffin' and puffin' and blowin' my hotband. *LOL*

And...my second wind is turning into a gentle breeze.

Shit.

That's what I get for eating a damn taco salad.


Maaaa-aaaa-aaaaan.

I'm tired. I think I shall nappeth for a bit.

Poof!

Oh. And this is my 200th post. Hooray.

Yippee yahoo.

Call me when I care.

It's 80's Movie Trivia Time again!

And no, Kentucky Girl, you may not play in this one, you two-time winnin' tramp.

Yer outta here.

The movie of the hour?

St. Elmo's Fire!!!

Now, I am battling a lightning storm here in Tampa right now, so I am likely to lose power. You just play and I will have Laurie jump in and moderate the game.

Shit. *sighs* Friggin' Florida.

You have one hour to answer the following:

1) One castmember of St. Elmo's fire was VERY pregnant at the time she played a virgin in the movie. Who was the actress and what was the name of her character?

2) One of the actors in the movie had a VERY serious drug problem and was asked to leave the set on more than one occasion. Who was the actor and what role did they play?

3) Give me the name and character played of six of the lead actors in St. Elmo's Fire.

4) One actor in St. Elmo's Fire got nominated for an Award! Can you believe it? Which actor was it and what award was he up for?

5) St. Elmo's fire is actually the name of a scientific phenomenon. What IS a St. Elmo's Fire in actuality and how does it tie into the movie?

6) Who wrote and sang the theme song "Man in Motion" from the movie?

7) Name ONE of the four taglines from the movie advertisements.

Go! Go now! And listen to NOTHING that Kentucky Girl says! Nothing!!! *L*

EDIT: Okay, I have practiced audioblogging and it works for me, so, if the power goes out, you will hear me, but not see me. Moo ha ha. I am the magical princess of blogdom!

Top of the Hour Picture Post.

YES BITCHES!!

Hour 11 has fallen upon me and I have gotten my second wind! Suck it up!

I am voguing for y'all in these pics. Recognize the beauty. RECOGNIZE!




Don't even ask me what's up with the hair. It's still a trainwreck. I haven't gotten that far along yet. Gee. It's only 8pm. *L* And the butterfly? Who knows. I am having a Mariah Carey moment. Let me vomit and make it go away.

I am listening to music now. I can't focus in life without music. I can't coordinate my life history without it. Every single song I hear plays an important role in where I am in my world. I have a soundtrack to my life. My most recent soundtrack consists of:

Black Balloon by the Goo Goo Dolls.
This is My World - Darius Rucker (Hootie, minus the blowfish)
Dani California - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Somewhere Only We Know - Keane
The Ghost of You - My Chemical Romance

Each one of these songs reminds me of special things, special times...and they all make me want to write. I have inspiration infused in my musical choices. I appreciate music. I worship it.

If it had a dick, I'd suck it.

(Can't have me getting to sappy now, can we?)

Damn. Here comes the lightning again. ARGH!!!

I am continuing from the last post...

Panic disorder is an entirely different breed of animal. For example, I have issues with depression and bipolar disorder, however, panic is not one of my symptoms. Usually the zoloft or prozac paired with the clonidine will keep it under control, however, there is more to it than just the medications. If doctors are prescribing medication without talk therapy, they are gravely mistreating you. Part of being able to overcome depressive disorders to to pair medication with talk therapy. It's important to get to the root of the problem, to discover it, to deal with it and then, accept it. If you are still feeling panicked at the thought of riding an elevator, taking a long drive, etc., then you are not at the crux of your phobia. You haven't made it past the hurdle, you are just simply managing the symptoms. It's like having the flu. You can't cure it. It has to play itself out...but you can manage the coughing, sneezing and fever with medication. The underlying problem, the influenza, still remains.

I highly encourage talk therapy to my patients. Highly. You may think you have nothing to say to a therapist, and you very well may not. But, it is a great place to begin the search for the root of the problem. Sometimes it was one little incident that took place long ago that you have to work through. Someone in your corner to help boost your confidence is a bonus.

What I would suggest is making a tape or a CD of calming music or a good audio book to distract you. Make rest stops. Drink lots of water but nothing with caffeine. Bring things with you that comfort you, like some of your kids photos and put them on your dashboard. It will help keep you focused. Your ultimate goal, after all, is getting home again, right? The pictures will keep you centered. Get a handsfree system for your cellphone and talk with your husband and friends as you make this drive. The key here is to repeat to yourself..."People do this everyday. Everyday. I can do it too."

As for blogging, it is so so so important to a person who is dealing with manic disorders. It helps to reveal things that you wouldn't normally want to reveal to your everyday folks who you encounter. It absolves you of the wounds by releasing them from your body. It helps clean your guts. It washes out the impurities that clutter your brain. Journaling, online or off is amazingly therapeutic and it is something you should do. Chronicling your life sometimes gives you fabulous insight into what is going on. Going back into your archives is a wonderful way to see how far you have come and how much further you still need to go.

I think it is a great way to spend your time...and cheaper than a therapist.

Picture Post At the top of HOUR 10!!!

Finally!

Double digits. You have no idea how hard this is. Seriously. I am a slave to my desk. There is scarcely any opportunity to walk away from my desk for any length of time. I have to time out "shit posts" in order to be able to use the bathroom. It's hard. Very hard. *sobs*




I forgot to take my medication today. In case you didn't know, I am bi-polar. No, not the kind of bipolar that all the cool kids say they have. I am seriously, ICD-9 diagnosed as bi-polar. I have bouts of mania all the time, but for the most part, I am very well controlled by my medication. Whenever people talk about being "crazy", I feel proud to be certified, hence my name...Certifiable Princess.

I take two Prozac a day, 80 milligrams to counter the depression/anxiety/weepy whiney shit that is caused by my epilepsy and the meds. I also take one 60 miligram Cymbalta a day. That's to control the crazies.

There is such an amazing stigma tied to bipolar disorder or any depressive disorders for that matter. That upsets me. I think we are a bit too advanced to have such an archaic mindset. I mean, that to me falls under the same category as being ashamed of someone who gets lice, has HIV or becomes a victim of a seizure disorder. All of these things are so taboo. So secretive. So hush hush.

I put my experience as a manic depressive out there, because it is part of the person I am. I am not insane. I am not crazy. I am a very rational and sane person who has a severe chemical imbalance in her brain as a result of a head injury. It happens. *shrugs* I can sit home and throw myself pity parties and deal in silent shame, or I can put it out there and talk to other people about it.

I prefer the education route.

Fortunately for me, my manic phases aren't as violent as they used to be. Before I was medicated, I was a VERY violent person. The doctor originally told me I had a "rage disorder". Isn't that precious? Isn't that what they said about "The Hulk"? The problem was that I was not properly diagnosed, properly medicated or in a good therapeutic environment with an excellent counselor. Over the years, I have been able to feel when my flare ups are coming on. I warn my husband. He's very good about it. While I don't have the violent outbursts I used to have anymore, my manic phase sometimes manifests itself in shopping.

What's the problem with that?

Nothing really, unless you are able to account for thousands of dollars in purchases every month...and you are financially okay with it. I spend money. I aggressively spend money. I sit on ebay for hours and just shop for things that I don't even need, or want for that matter. My hotband helps me to keep that under control, but I do slip up frequently, hide packages that I buy and then, try to convince my husband that I've had "this old thing" for years.

He knows better. So do I.

What I am grateful about is the fact that my disease process is not genetic. I worried so much about my conduct affecting my children's behavior and personalities. They adjusted to my violent outbursts...but no child should have to live like that. So I got help. Lots of it. I got out of my marriage and learned to change my ways. My ex husband, bless his heart, was an enabler. He would feed the fires that burned me. My hotband does not. He cuts it right off at the root. Won't tolerate it, won't fight with me, won't engage in my personal battles.

He's a smart cookie.

Anyway, let me go gulp these down before I get all medieval on your asses.

Alrighty then...

The winner is...

*sigh* Kentucky Bitch. Again.

Well, at least that will save me some damn postage.

Wench, stop playing my games and let someone else win!!! *bitchslaps ya* You probably liked that, didn't you. DIDN'T YOU??? SAY MY NAME!!! SAY ITTT!!!!

Whoa. Punchy. Sweet.

Okay, the answers are:
Sarah Jessica Parker/Sex in the City.
Total gross was 80 million.
Elmore City HS in OOOOOOOOOklahoma. Heh.
Bon Jovi and Destination Anywhere.
Chuck's truck was a GMC.
23 pairs of feet.
And yes, Chris Penn. *sighs* I loved that man.

You suck, KG. You're lucky you are monitoring this Blogathon or I would so assrape you without lube for screwin' up my games!!! *LMAO*

Next movie trivia is at 8:30 PM and NO, KG cannot play. If she plays, I will stop blogging. All profits will be forfeited. I will not continue and make KG the most hated woman in the Blogosphere.

*snorts with laughter*

Too late! She already sucks! Mwahahahahhaaaaaaaaaaa.

Top of the Hour Pic Post

EIGHT HOURS! I am a THIRD OF THE WAY DONE!

Get down with my bad self!

I am leaving the Footloose Trivia Game up for another half hour, until the bottom of the hour. I realize it's harder than the others. That's because some of you are too fast with the Google! *L* I don't mind the shit being looked up! Hey, if you took the time to do the research...then, I ain't mad atcha!

The picture of the hour is called: "Why I Am A PimpDog" ~By Snoop.

This is why my dog is a pimp.


That white fur pouring out of his ass is my other dog, Suzu. Everytime Snoop lays down, Suzu comes up with her flat pekingnese face and gets it SMACK up against Snoop's bunghole and laps at it. Nothin' like tossed doggie salad to keep a bitch up and laughing.

I feel sick. And I think my husband is wiggling his brows at me.

Dear God we are SO not going there.

80's Movie Trivia Game Time!!!!

And the movie choice of the hour is...

FOOTLOOSE!

Cause I'm watching it...and I said so, that's why.

Here we go:

1) Footloose was the story of a kid moving from the big city to the farmlands. He is totally enchanted by the Preachers Daughter (Lori Singer as Ariel). The Preachers daughter had a best friend who gives her the "low down" on the new boy, Wren (played by Kevin Bacon). Who was the best friend played by AND...where would we have seen her lately?

2) What was the total United States Gross of the movie "Footloose"? Closest guestimate will win.

3) Footloose was actually based on a true story. Tell me the name and location of the high school that this fictional movie was based on.

4) Kevin Bacon was NOT the first choice to play Wren. Can you imagine that? Several people auditioned, like Tom Cruise, Christopher Atkins (The Blue Lagoon) and Rob Lowe. However, none of them were able to nab the role and the person the director WANTED wasn't interested in it. Who WAS the directors first choice and where did this person and Kevin Bacon eventually meet up in another film?

5) In the infamous car/truck race scene at the beginning of the movie, Ariel jumps from Edna's car into her boyfriend Chuck's truck. What was the make of truck that Chuck drives?

6) How many pairs of feet are shown in the opening credit sequence?

7) An actor from Footloose recently passed away of suspect and sudden circumstances. Who was the actor and was was the name of the actors character in the movie?


Most questions correct wins! GO!!!

Top of the Hour Picture Post...

Subject? "I would rather be doing this Blogathon than..."



Ugh. Dishes. I would rather throw the entire sink out than do these. Good thing I have a husband. Heh. If it were up to me, we'd be eatin' on paperplates every single night. I am hatefully sickened by dishes. And, as you can see, I haven't done them in a few days. *snicker*

So, give me five things you really hate doing. I mean...hate. Detest. Loathe.

Holy Crap....

NO I WASN'T ASLEEP!!!


WHY WOULD YOU EVEN ASK ME THAT!!!!?!?!?!


*sheepish grin*

Yeah. The couch is definately off limits for the next few hours.


7 and a half hours.

Oy.

Top of the Hour Picture Post.

Hour number 7.

Jesus H. Christmas. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I am beat to shit. Seriously. I must have dozed off after my Subway sandwich because I woke up to the sound of a camera flash and a little, giggly 10 year old Secret Squirreling me.

Little kids. How do they know how to work all this techno stuff?

Behold...sleeping beauty.



Baby need nappy.

Thank Heavens...for my little girl.

My daughter, S., took mercy on her poor, fat, weak mother.

She bought me a 6 inch sub from Subway. Tuna on white with onions. Sweet. I scarfed that bitch down like Linda Lovelace in Deep Throat.

Now, I'm watching Footloose! Sweeter still!

Hm. Maybe THAT movie will be the next Movie Trivia game! Next game will be at *thinks* 5:30 pm. Yeah. That works. Footloose or Say Anything. Hm. Will have to think on that while I leave you this meme behind.

This will buy me enough time to pee, digest and nap for 20 minutes.

I'm outtie.

You Are 40% Gross

You're a tad gross, but generally you're a clean, hygienic person. No one can be perfectly clean all the time, and it's better to be human than a neat freak.

How Gross Are You?

Top of the Hour Pic - Hour 6.

Lord.

Help a bitch out. Please. Lightning? Crashing Blogger? Anything. I'm at your mercy, Lord. I'm too old, too fat and too tired, Lord. Rescue me from the insanity of this challenge.

Congrats to Laci on winning the Pretty in Pink Trivia. (Go see her answers in the comments at the game). She was on the money with all of them. And those fuckers were HARD too! Laci has won...something Pretty...and Pink.

Lucky for her, my vagina is not detachable.



The pic is of the boy child and the dog, Snoop. My husband calls him "Snooperific", "Snoop of Essence" and his newest one..."Chocolate Covered Snoopers". My husband is a low functioning primate.

It's Movie Trivia Time Again!

And the movie of choice is "Pretty in Pink" as suggested by Big Pissylovetoy.

Now, I loved me some "PiP". Wasn't my favorite. That was the Breakfast Club. But, this one runs really close to my heart too.

Let me freshen your memories on the main characters:




The main characters, from left to right.

Andrew McCarthy as Blane. Rich boy with a heart of gold. Then, of course, Molly Ringwald as Andie, the dimestore poor girl with a heart of gold. Lastly, Jon Cryer, the mac daddy geek with the...um, jacket of gold.

Then of course, your supporting players:
James Spader as the asshole, Steff. Annie Potts as the employer/best pal, Iona.

All caught up?

Good. Here we go.

Five questions. The one with the most correct will win.

1) In the record store where Andie works, Ducky gives the performance of a lifetime by dancing and lip-synching to a song. What was the name of the song?

2) Andie goes to CATS, a dance club, with Iona. There, she meets up with her pal, Simon. Who played Simon and who played the bouncer at the front door of the Cat Club?

3) There was a song playing during the prom scene that became a super huge hit of the 80's. Who sang the song and what was the name of the song?

4) Someone never got to see their theatrical debut. In the beginning of the movie, Andie had a best friend, a pretty blonde named Jena. By the middle of the movie, the actress is no where to be seen? What happened to the actress and what was her name?

5) Another famous movie was shot in the same High School where Pretty in Pink was shot. What movie was it? (Hint: It was PRE-Pretty in Pink!)

There you go!

Have fun!

Answers at the top of the hour.

Top of the Hour Pic Post. R-rated! Okay, maybe PG-13.

I got a pic request for my rack. It came from a woman, too! That's hardcore, man. If it was a man, I would have declined it...you know, out of respect for the hotband. But, since it was a woman who asked...it's all good. The hotband appreciates the equal opportunity whore he married. *snorts*

So, here's the infamous rack.



Do not click to enlarge unless you want to lose your eyesight permanently. Shit. My brastrap was twisted. Why didn't any of you TELL ME??? *eyeroll* Hateful bitches.

This is what my hotband gets for not being home to feed my fat ass. If he isn't home by 2:30, I show the royal golden cooze. Go ahead, fucker! Dare me! DARE ME!

Wow.

I am tired. Please don't hold anything I say or do against me today.

It's for the children, people. The children!

Anyway, any other pic suggestions will be taken into consideration.

I am sooooooooo hungry.

Man.

It is 1:30 already.

I haven't eaten, 'cept for that cherry tomato y'all see me eat earlier. I have literally had my ass glued to this chair for like...4 hours already. My tush is going numb. My hotband isn't home to help make me some food. Why? WHY????

Top of the hour will be the picture post and the bottom of the hour will be the "Pretty In Pink" trivia game. These are tough questions, peeps. But the prize will be worth it. Trust a bitch. *L*

So far, Kentucky Girl has won my underwear. Aren't you jealous?

2:00 will be boobs on parade. Mine.

I am making the slow transition to getting dressed. I have this gorgeous push up bra, that I took the push up pads out of, cause frankly...I don't need the help. Sooooo...I took a picture of them. This will be the ONLY time my rack is ever exposed on this blog. So, if you aren't there...tough shit. It will fade into archive oblivion, never to be seen again.

I need food. FOOD!!!!

*collapses*

Top of the Hour Picture Post!

1 pm.

How the hell did this happen so quickly?

Laurie from Beauty and the Beer has graciously offered to write me up a guest post, so that at some point, I may actually shower and/or nap. Is she not a lovebug?

Anyone else want to volunteer?

In the meantime, I am sending this pic out to Ms Dirty Dawg Laurie, Pirate Extraordnaire. I sent her a Kate Spade bag when I got home from NYC. Apparently, it got lost in the postal service and it REALLY pissed me off. I searched high and low when I got back home, trying to locate it...and/or a comparible one to send her. No such luck. So, I took to Ebay. I had to get mah babygirl a bag suitable and worthy of her redneck trashass.

And I found it. Love it. Almost kept it.

Laurie? Say hello to your new Louis Vuitton.

It's in the mail Monday morning, dollface. Just got here from England. Fresh off the boat, babe. Fresh off the pirate ship.

Arrrrrrrrrr. Show your love, doll.

Let me tell ya...

this posting once every half hour thing is harder than it sounds. I mean, by the time you finish a post, you scarcely have enough time to pee. It's insane! I haven't even been able to go NEAR anyone else's blog today! That sucks AND blows.

Blogathon is having a bunch of games for the bloggers today, to keep them entertained. It's a nice gesture, but it is so hard to go back and forth, look around, time your posts out...etc. So much for my "I'm just gonna wing it" theory. I should have planned it out better. But now I know for next year.

Yes, next year. I will be doing this again because it is for a good cause and I can devote 24 hours of my life for a good cause.

I gotta keep God in love with me. *bats lashes*

Anyway, they want to know about my favorite animal.

My favorite animal is my son. Okay, that aside, my favorite animal is my kitten, Mini. He's a feral cat that I adopted at 8 weeks old from my boss who found him outside. I love this kitten. He's the sweetest love muffin. But, he is also a genuine asshole. He eats the dogs asses. Tasty little goober-like treats. Yum. Nothing like a nice doggie dingleberry to start your day.

I love me some Mini.

Top of the Hour Picture Post - 3 Hours Down!

Sweetness!

21 more hours and I can go back to bed!

This pic post is of me and my bee yoo tee full daughter, S. She is on the way out the door for work, but I made her take this picture with me. Gorgeous. 19 year old little bitch. Perfect skin. Perfect teeth. Perfect hair. Wench. I can only take credit for making her...*sighs*



The winner of the Breakfast Club Trivia was Kentucky Girl, cause she is a freakin' assed, cheatin' wench. *LMAO*

Next 80's Trivia game will be at 2pm.

Maybe I will be in a different shirt by then...ya think? *L*

Ultimate 80's - Breakfast Club Trivia!

Alrighty.

If any of you truly know me, then y'all would know that I am an 80's movie fanatic. Painfully in love with the 80's. The music, the clothes, the movies...everything about that 80's. I can watch VH-1 Classics all day long.

My favorite 80's movie would have to be "The Breakfast Club", starring Judd Nelson as Bad Boy Bender, Emilio Estevez as Andrew the Wrestling Jock, Molly Ringwald as Claire the Princess (she had nothin' on me!), Ally Sheedy as the Sociopath, Allison and of course, Anthony Michael Hall as the geek assed Brian.

There are three trivia questions that will award you with prizes, should you answer all three correctly. You will be playing for one of my thongs. You can request it freshly laundered, or recently used. If you want it post-lovin with the hotband, you have to answer a bonus question. *LOL*

Okay, seriously. NO panties. (Unless you REALLY want them.) But you will get a fun prize. Ready? Here we go...and NO GOOGLING FOR THE ANSWERS, cheatin' bastards.

Here we go...

1) At one point in the movie, Allison steals Brians wallet. She starts reading out his height/weight/date of birth and social security number. Tell me what Brian's social security number was.

2) Detention in High School was an all day affair. John Bender couldn't possibly stay in one seat that long. Tell me how many different seat positions does he take in total in the library.

3) The kids are running away from Mr. Vernon. He's hot on their trail and they need to get back to the library! Bender wants to go through the cafeteria, but Andrew isn't buyin' it! Which room does Andrew suggest they run back through to get to the library?


There you go, Folks! Rack your brains!

Top of the Hour! 2 down!

22 more to go.

Shiiiiiiiii-iiiiiii-iiiiiit.

This is a breeze. Why don't you all give me something REALLY challenging. This should be a 24 hour BLOW-athon. Now THAT I can really sink my teeth into, er, no pun intended.

*grumbles*

At least that I can do in my bed. Hmph.

Top of the hour picture. Me and the hotband suckin' on cherry tomatoes! He told me he is eating them to preserve his sexy. He's such a bunghole. *eyeroll* Total 'tardmuffin. Mmmmmmmm. Hot tomato love in the morning.



Please do not even eyeball my retro 70's kitchen, alright? Okay, it isn't retro. It's just OLD. That would be like calling ME "retro". Nope. Just old. Although, retro (read:OLD) seems to be very much the cutting edge of style right now. So good. It took me 30 years to go from modern to old and back to retro. This house was born in 1972.

A few things?

My husband was born in 74. My house is older than he is.

Another thing?

I was born in 66. I am older than my house.

Neither one of these revelations makes me feel very good.

Warning! Warning! Do NOT GO NEAR THE COUCH!

Late with this post.

Damn.

Fell asleep. Well, actually, dozed off.

I cannot go near the couch. Must find and make some coffee. I don't even drink the crap. It gives me loose stools. There's another thing you needed to know about me, eh? Further proof that I have no business blogging in the morning. I say things I shouldn't say. In a little over an hour, I have discussed dirty skanky twat syndrome, douching and now, loose stools.

Don't ever think that I think you don't want me.

Did I mention that we are up to ONE THOUSAND - TWO HUNDRED - FORTY ($1,240.00) DOLLARS for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation? Who knew? I had five more sponsors in the last 6 hours! I am still loading everyone up on my sidebar. All those who donated will live in infamy in my sidebar for the entire month of August.

You deserve the recognition.

Holy shit! One hour down...

23 more to go! This is a breeze.

Okay, so my husband had to just go pull me off the couch. I admit. I don't do mornings very well. Not afternoons either. Nights, not so bad. Now, overnights, from 1am until 5am! Oh yeah, baby. I shine! I shine like a muthah fuckin' north star!

Not too many job opportunities at that hour though, unless I want to work ER trauma again, which, I do not.

Anyway, here is my top of the hour photo:



See? I'm doing better now. Both eyes are open. My teeth are brushed. Haven't done a thing with my hair yet...and still sporting the ol' thermal sleepy shirt.

Sexay.

But I'm up, I'm bloggin' and I'm doin' mah thang! Hoot hoot!

Why are the rest of you up right now???

Yes, I'm still awake.

This is very difficult for me. You do realize that I am NEVER up before NOON on a Saturday. Never. I am not enjoying this in the least, and I am quite irritable. However, I am trying to remain focused on the fact that I am doing this for CHARITY and ergo, will force myself to be light-hearted, carefree and breezy.

Ugh.

Sounds like a Massengil commercial.

Did anyone ever actually have that "Mom, do you ever get that 'not so fresh' feeling" conversation with their mothers? Anyone? I can just see me asking Esther that.

"Esther, do you ever get that not so fresh feeling?"

"What is this, a game, CP? What sort of stunt are you pulling now?"

"No stunt, Mom. Just asking."

"Well, not that it is any of YOUR business, but yes, I suppose I have had days like that."

"Did you douche?"

"Excuse me??? Did I raise you like this? You vile animal! You're just like your father."

"Did he douche?"

"Go to hell, CP."

Yep. I can hear it all in my head, just as surely as though she were standing here. Perish that thought. *shivers*

What precisely IS that "not so fresh" feeling? I mean, I've woken up to a case of the stanks before. Who the hell hasn't? But, that isn't "not fresh", that's just used and dirty and requires a wash. So, tell me, what defines a "not so fresh" feeling?

(Lovely breakfast conversation, no? This is why Esther hates me.)

Goooooooooooood Mornin', Blogathon!

Yeah. Catchy title, eh? I went for the whole Robin Williams thing.

*eyeroll*

Look, it's 8:45 am on a damn Saturday. If you are looking for creativity, rent a Roman Polanski flick. You aren't going to find it here, at this hour.

Anyway, huge shout out to Laci for reminding me that I am on the EAST COAST and the Blogathon starts for me at NINE am, not EIGHT am. That gave me an extra 45 minutes of beauty sleep to preserve my sexy. Sweet.

I can't believe I'm awake. Lawd.

I want to start this irritable, er, loving post, with a resounding THANK YOU to everyone who contributed to the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. Together, we have raised....*drumroll please*

ONE THOUSAND - ONE HUNDRED - EIGHTY - SEVEN ($1,187) DOLLARS!!!

I can't believe it. What an amazing gesture. What an enormous outpouring of community support.

What a bunch of jackasses for making me get up this early on a Saturday. Just for that, you all get this very sexy picture of me, first thing in the morning. Hot, eh? Bet you can't wait to tap that ass, huh? Nope. Don't blame ya. I'm damn sexy.



Note the one closed eye? That's because half of me is still asleep. The very best part of me is still in bed. Heh. The good thing about this picture is that most of y'all are still asleep right now, and will NEVER see this picture. Mwahahahaha.

Consider yourselves lucky.

See you at 9:30.

If you're lucky, I'll have brushed my teeth by then.

Blog: The Ultimate Test of Strength.

I am getting sleep. I am getting rest. My ass is dealing with a double ear infection that has given me a fever, chills and vomiting. I took my third day off of work today. I will probably be fired on Monday. Ask me if I give a rats ass?

Not even one teeny tiny little rats ass.

Tomorrow morning starts the Blogathon. (Check the sidebar, a bitch is too sick to hotlink for your lazy asses). I am just going to wing it. That's my strategy in the Blogathon. Wing it. See what feels right and go with it. I may have the hotband do a guest post for me now and then if I am mid-stream of vomitus.

But, this is the best of me right now. Love it or leave it.

I am heading back to the couch with eardrops, Advil and my blankie.

Yes. I have a blankie. What of it?

Anyway, see you guys at 8am tomorrow morning when the fun and games begin. In the interim, dig into my archives and read something important. Better still, go visit the pages of people who donated to the Blogathon, because they deserve the traffic.

'Scuse me, while I go die my royal death in solitude.

Outrageous Misfortune.

I am appalled. I am livid. I am absolutely sickened to hear about the latest person to be Dooce'd out of their job because of their blog.

Our very own Mr. Fabulous of Pointless Drivel was fired from his job yesterday. Reason given?

His blog.

Now, while I don't have much in the way of details from him just yet, I can tell you that Fab never wrote anything with regard to LifeSouth Community Blood Centers that was not positive, upbeat and supportive of their work. Fab had a deep love for the job he did. He was great with his clients and co-workers alike. He was revered by many due to his dedication to his work and to see him ousted in such a fashion is deplorable.

As fellow bloggers, we are all dangling by that corporate thread, just swinging in the wind, knowing at any given time, we too may suffer the same fate. While we think our blog is only representative of who we are after hours, many corporations and even small run businesses don't see it that way. Some of you have heard the term "Dooce'd" or to be Dooce'd from ones job. This phrase got started way back in 2002 when Heather B. Armstrong, a web designer from Los Angeles, lost a very high profile job due to her tirades and good spirited rants about her job. She was fired, no other explanation, other than to say that she was not sanctioned to write on a public blog with regard to her workplace. Thus begins the term "Dooce'd"; to be removed from ones job because of your personal blog. Dooce still remains a very popular blogger, with her website now earning enough money to support her family.

This story turned out well for her. But, what about people like Mr. Fab? What about your ordinary Joe who never wrote anything disparaging about work and yet was made to suffer the ultimate penalty? I have not come across a corporate handbook yet that outlines the "No Blog/No Job" rule that so many companies have chosen to utilize out of convenience. My own company does not have such a rule in place, yet I know my bosses well enough to know they would slap my wrist, HARD, before firing me and ask that I no longer blog about work. Impossible, I would say in return, because my blog is a journal about my life. It is an intricate part of my life and therefore, so long as I do not disclose names of patients nor the doctors that I work for, I see no harm in continuing to write as I always do. Of course, I would more than likely be fired for that stance, but it is the stance I would take and defend until the end.

One of the values that separates us from every other country in the world is our ability to speak out. When a persons right to free speech gets shit on, it not only affects that person, but all of us. It could just as well be me or you next time. I found an interesting article online at a blog called The Papal Bull. This particular blog, while not updated in some time, has a list of people who were all fired, due to their blogs. When you read over the list, it becomes extraordinarily clear that more and more companies are doing what they can to "out" their employees. Blogging has certainly become the new "gay" of the workplace. It seems that it has become more important to discover what a person does with their time off the clock instead of how productive and goal oriented they are while on the clock.

I don't like what happened to Mr. Fabulous. He is my friend. His was one of the first blogs I ever started reading before becoming inspired enough to write my own. He is a good man, with wonderful family values and a devotion to his job that you scarcely see any longer. He genuinely loved what he did for a living. He made a difference within his community and he knew that, respected that and valued that. To relieve a person of their duties (read: FIRED) for being zany, silly or absurd is ludicrous. Are any of us truly the persona we portray at work? I know when I am at my job, I am the epitome of professional. But, when I am off the clock, the hair comes down and my evil twin takes over. She is who I am. Call her deviant, call her outrageous, call her dangerously close to being a sociopath. But, don't ever call my professional values into question due to what you read about me on my blog.

I think that blogging helps keep many people sane and refreshed. You get out aggression and emotion here, online, as opposed to taking these same repressed feelings out on your clients or co-workers. The blogging community is where you can let loose, say the things that are on your mind and then, return to your job the next morning feeling less burdened or put upon. It is where you can share your innermost feelings, receive validation from like minded individuals and then, be able to return to the daily grind feeling revived.

Throughout Mr. Fabs entire blog, there are FEW references to his job. The ones that are there, however, are not caustic or degrading in any fashion whatsoever. My only thought is that they don't like the person he is out of professional mode. If that is the case, fuck them. They lost a professional in every sense of the word. He was loyal, upstanding, dedicated and committed not only to his organization, but their value and worth as well. He believed in their goals and incorporated them into his own life as well. No one loves their job 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But, to be able to speak highly of your work at least 80 percent of the time is terrific. I may grouse about my co-workers or the doctors I work for, but I respect them immensely, online and off. If they cannot differentiate the CP at work compared to the CP in a more relaxed and personal environment, screw them.

I am hoping to start a letter writing campaign in Mr. Fab's defense. I think the media should be contacted. I think the power of the press would work famously in his favor. However, I am going to hold off on any of that until I hear from him. I will give him time to lick his wounds and realize the gravity of this injustice perpetrated upon him. As any friend would, I will be sitting by, supportive and present, not offering up unsolicited advice. But as soon as he gives me the go ahead, it is my intention to go after them, both barrels cocked and loaded.

In time, I know this will all be a stepping stone for greater things that the sweet Lord is providing for Fab. Sometimes, one door has to slam shut before another can swing open. This may be the start of a fabulous writing career for a man who is witty above all comparison. This may be the beginning of a brand new career altogether, the birthing of a stand up comic or the director of community services with some other large organization. Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

But for now, I ask you to take a run over to Mr. Fab's place and urge him to be strong during this trying time. Encourage him to continue writing and being the man he has always been. Remind him of how many people read him, enjoy him and look forward to his provocative wit to get them through their day. Remind him that he took one for the team, and what a team it is! Millions of us, every single day, hoping beyond hope not to be discovered or "outed" by our bosses or co-workers...yet our passion to write and be heard fuels us. Remind him that to stop writing will only mean that they not only stripped him of his paycheck, but of his rights as a citizen and his freedoms as a human being.

Once we let that go, we become nothing more than the portrait of a Stepford employee, mindless and vapid. While I urge you all to be careful when divulging your lives online, I also urge you all to never compromise who you are. While secrecy to betray others is criminal, to betray yourself is the worst crime of all.

It is individual, unique patches that make up one beautiful and glorious quilt.

You are the fabric and design that compliments all others.

We should work to live, not live to work and when the inherent right to be free of the ties that bind us between nine and five work their way into our personal lives, it is time to move forward.

Never look back, Fab. Not one single solitary glance.

They aren't worthy of all the wonders of you.

The Final Push Into Blogathon 2006.

I admit.

I am scared shit about this Blogathon. I mean, back in the day, I could stay out all night, party my face off, shower, go to work, sleep for 20 minutes and then, bang...out the door again to start the whole cycle all over again.

That was 20 years ago, man. Twenty muthah-fuckin' years!

And this is pressure, people. Amazing pressure. You see that sidebar? It is full of people who decided to open their wallets and hearts to the cause. It is full of people who said, "CP can do it. I just know she can." Little optimistic freaks.

So now, I am feeling really pressured by the masses to not only stay awake, but to perform as well. It's not enough just to stay awake, but I have to be clever, be witty, be on point. And lets face it, after hour #10, I am sure to be a drooling, crying, emotional trainwreck. I have asked the hotband to document this voyage along the way, by taking photos of me at each stage of the game. I thought it would be fun to remove one article of clothing an hour, but that would require me to be layered, and frankly, mama doesn't do well when she's hot. I could start naked and then ADD a piece of clothing each hour, but that's sort of anti-climatic and puts the cart before the big ol' fat Jew horse. Not happenin'.

In the meantime, I feel like I am being teased. You know, when the fingertips linger near the clit but don't quite make contact? Yes. Teased. I have collected $983.00 on behalf of the Pediatric AIDS Foundation (who, I am certain would frown upon me using the word "clit" while pandering for their cause, but desperate times take desperate measures. That leaves me SEVENTEEN dollars away from my goal. Seventeen. Now I don't see why the hell a few of you can't give up your fill at the nail salon. A couple of Venti coffees at Starbucks. A few less suitcases of Keystone Beer. Shit, cut off your cable for a month. There's nothing good on anyway. Trust me. If seventeen of you would just do a lump sum amount of ONE DOLLAR each, a Princess could sleep better at night, ergo assuring a victory for when I have to stay up for 24 hours straight to blog.

Seriously, peeps. I am doing all the hard work here. All you have to do is click "Sponsor Me" and follow the directions. What are you doing right now? Nothing. You are sitting here reading my bullshit when you could be paying to read my bullshit. Um, nevermind. That didn't quite get my point across. Just give me a stinkin' dollar! I tried being nice. I tried being loving. I tried being sympathetic and empathetic. Now I am going for just plain old PA-thetic.

I'm beggin' here! I am very anal. I need ROUND numbers to function and 983 is just such bad karma for me! So come on, sponsor me. Seventeen more people, one dollar each. Or, one of you can step up to the Big Daddy plate and do $17.00 all by yourself. Where mah players at, yo?



For those of you that haven't been blessed with listening to my last four rants about the Blogathon, allow me to enlighten you. I have joined on board with Blogathon 2006. For those of you not in the know, Blogathon 2006 is a group of Bloggers, all joining together for 24 hours in the name of charity. We will be blogging for 24 hours straight, a new post every 30 minutes, in order to raise money for our favorite charities.

I have chosen the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. I have donated to this charity many times over the years, however, this is the first time I am blogging on their behalf. It combines my two great passions. Children and those who are living with HIV and AIDS, fighting the good fight every single day of their lives.

Click the Princess to Sponsor Me!

You can donate a lump sum (hell, even a DOLLAR would be appreciated!) or you can donate per hour (providing you think I can handle the rigors of keeping this old fat Jewish ass blogging for 24 hours straight.) Even if you donate a quarter an hour for 24 hours, that's a measly SIX BUCKS! And while that doesn't sound like a huge contribution, I can tell you that it is. It can pay for someones medicine. It can pay for 100 syringes needed for AIDS research. It can feed a hospitalized child.

I have chosen this charity on behalf of my best friend, Norman Lee Patton, who was born on July 29th, the same day as the Blogathon is scheduled to kick off. He was a beautiful man who was living with AIDS. He lived every single day to the fullest. He never let his disease wear him down. Lively and spritely until the very end. He loved children and was the President of the local AIDS foundation in our community. I was proud of him for this and so many things.

He was also my hair dresser and made a bitch look DIVOON! Now, I spend everyday with bad hair and no one to shop with. So, I will be blogging in his name, in his honor and knowing that he will be looking down upon me with love in his eyes and saying...

"Lord Girl! Who has been doing your hair?! That shit is JACKED UP!"

So please, spare a dime. Spare a nickel. Spare your next pack of ciggies. Go without a condom! (Okay, nevermind. Don't do that.) Forego a friggin' pedicure! Give up your Starbucks for one day! You know your fat ass doesn't need that Venti Mocha Latte! The children need it! (Not the coffee, the money!) And if I am willing to forego my beauty sleep, then you should give up something too!

Selfish bitches.

Even if you can't donate, please make sure to stop by during the course of the night, instant message me, email me, call me...shit, I don't care. Just help keep a fat assed Princess awake so she can get the job done!

Click the link at the top of the page or at the bottom of the page or in my sidebar or in the email I am about to send you...Mwahahahaha...and start me off right!

Look, I'm having a shitty week. It's the least you can do. I mean, hopes and prayers can only get you so far. It's all about the Benjamins, baby.

*crickets chirping*

Alright. I don't believe that either. But I am trying to solicit here.

Cut a princess some slack.

Sponsor Me! Please! I just had knee surgery. If you make my fat ass get down and beg, there is a good chance I won't get back up and will have to blog from the floor!

There you go. My last ditch effort to solicit SEVENTEEN more dollars out of you guys before this Friday. If I was any more open and vulnerable, I'd be blowin' y'all by now.

So please. Give. Give until it hurts. It might already hurt. But, no pain, no gain, people.

And, if you can't give monetarily, please give in the way of support by emailing me, messaging me, phoning me, etc. I will need all the help in the world keeping my fat ass awake for those 24 hours.

Thank you all so much. For everything. Always.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CLASSIC ESTHER MOMENT:

"Ma, I think you're wrong. Howie Mandel IS Jewish," I say to Esther.

"Not possible, CP," she replies.

"Why is it not possible?"

"He's Canadian, for God's sake."

"Oh," I reply. "Well, that clears THAT right up."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As of right now, July 26th, 2006 at 11:41 pm, we have reached our goal of ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. Actually, we even surpassed it by three dollars. So, anonymous person who put us over the top? Thank you. Thank you so much. More than words can say. You've made my night. *smoooooooooches*

Stroke me, stroke me...

Okay. Hotbands tests came back. Carotid arteries are fine. Brain scan reveals some scar tissue and/or calcium deposits. Nothing indicative of a TIA after all. This means my original diagnosis was correct.

The man just had a hard time adjusting to the lovin' that the Princess delivers. It's understandable. I'm quite good and I can say "Do you want a blow job?" in about 10 different languages:

Você quer um blowjob? (Portugese)

Wilt u een blowjob? (Dutch - Where's my Dutchbitch at? I need some back up!)

Desiderate un blowjob? (Italian. You can get a side of Pasta with this in most restaurants!)

Θέλετε ένα blowjob? (Greek, this however, is a man to man question in Greece).

Vous voulez un blowjob? (French. I learned this one from Patti LaBelle)

Usted desea un blowjob? (Spanish. In Queens, NY, this was part of Spanish 101.)

Wünschen Sie ein blowjob? (German. Historically, this was Hitler's battlecry.)

Okay, so 7 different languages. When the Hotband gets out of the bathroom, I will ask him how to say it in Hebrew. Hopefully, this won't toss him into the throes of another stroke. I can't afford to lose him for another night.

Who's gonna cook dinner?

Ah, okay, here we go:
Rotzae (Want) Metzitzat (to suck) Zayeen? (Penis?)

Whew. Those Israeli's. Keepin' their dick-suckin' on the downlow. Niiii-iiii-iiiice. Every other language, you get to say "blowjob" straight up. But not the people of Hebrewland. Nah. They got to be all stealth and sneaky about who's slobbin' their knob.

It sounds so pretty too. Not a whole lot of that phlegm-hocking noises in that sentence. Some poor fool would be thinking you are giving them directions to Jerusalem or the Wailing Wall while you are actually telling them to suck your dick.

Sweet!

So, the hotband will live to see another day of Princess Hot Love. I am not sure that there is an actual ICD-9 or diagnosis code for "Fucked Into Stroke", but if there isn't, there should be. I imagine I am not the only woman who has inflicted this upon her man.

Aw, please. Who the hell am I kidding? OF course I am.

Speaking of head, my hotband brought up something quite disturbing the other day. I haven't quite erased the vision of it. We were talking about getting laid while pregnant (NO, IM NOT...don't start the rumor!) Hotband thinks it's pretty gross to be sliding the garden snake into the babys house, tap him behind the ear and then, proceed to vomit all over him. It ain't right, he says. I tell him, it's a separate area and the baby doesn't get puked on by the purple headed yogurt slinger. Yeah, sure, maybe the door gets knocked on, but it's like having a protective screen door between you. Baby is safe. Annoyed and bruised perhaps, but not spit upon. Then, he said:

"So, if a baby gets nutrients from the mother and the mother swallows after a blow job, does that mean the baby just swallowed it too?"

"Whaaa-aaaa-aaat?"

"Seriously, if the food a mother eats filters through that after birth crap and goes into the baby, doesn't it mean that the baby swallowed the jism?"

"Oh man," I reply.

"What's the matter," asks the hotband, seeing my brow furrow.

"I was just thinking. Maybe this is why my kids have such clear skin?"

"That's sick, babe."

"Yeah, well, just remember who brought it up."

"Sorry I did," he said.

"Me too," I reply. "My poor daughter didn't stand a chance. A whore before she was even born and my son, undoubtably will be gay now. Not that that's a bad thing."

"You're a sick woman, CP."

"I've been called worse."

Just an FYI for you sickos like me: To answer the "does the baby spit or swallow" question from above, here is a scientific answer for you.

Semen is high in protein and is digested in the small intestine like any other animal tissue. By the time it is allowed to pass through the intestinal walls into the mother's bloodstream where the fetus can get it, it has been broken down into amino acids, a perfectly fine source of protein for a growing baby.

Mmmmmm. Tasty.

Did I mention I have perfect skin? I must be an anomaly.

I am certain that Queen Esther has never blown anything in her entire life. If it smudges the lipstick, frizzes the hair or has the potential to break a nail, I can assure you, Esther hasn't done it.

I bet I'm adopted.

Whatta weekend.

Hotband and I got to the beach by 4pm. We immediately stripped out of our clothes, threw on the swimsuits and frolicked about in the water until 7pm. The water in the Gulf is like piss. Warm, humid and a slightly funky smell to it. But, no matter. We were alone, on the beach and away from a million cares in the world. Hottie was SO surprised to find out that I made reservations at our favorite little hole in the wall getaway. We then indulged in some rather fine dining (Subway) and began to consume barrel fulls of alcohol. We were silly, stupid and having a rather remarkable time. Nothing says "I'm drunk but I love you" like attempting to change positions during sex and falling on the floor a half dozen times.

And, who would have thunk it? We ended up having a threesome. Yep! Just me, Hotband and Aunt Flo. *frown* Who the hell asked THIS bitch to show up...NOW of all times? By the time we were done, it looked like a gangland murder took place in the room. My husband looked like he had his dick blown off. Heh. I was far too drunk to be embarassed and he was far too drunk to give a shit about sleeping in clotted up sheets. Sexy, eh? Are you nauseous yet? I was, until the next morning.

Hotband woke up. His right arm was numb. The right side of his face was numb. He was slurring his words, couldn't focus on sentences and couldn't even remember the date we were married. Now, yes, I understand that MOST men don't know that answer, but MY man does. Not because he is some incredible romantic or anything like that, but rather because he uses the date as his password for everything he does. At first, I thought he was still drunk from the night before. Then, I realized that he was becoming agitated, frustrated and eventually, his eyes filled with tears. He couldn't speak. Now, I am completely alarmed. I am telling him we have to go to the hospital. He couldn't fight with me. Normally he would argue with me. I saw something in his eyes that I have really never seen before. Fear.

Then, I remembered we had HIS car with us, not mine. He drives a stick. I can't drive a stick without inducing vomiting from all the jerking around. I was about to call an ambulance. We were a good thirty to forty miles from any nearby hospital.

He is sweating profusely. We go into the shower, together. I am scared he is going to fall over. And, just in case this is a passing thing, I want to be in the position to have more sex. Okay, so that didn't really go through my mind. Well, perhaps it did, but it was fleeting. As we were in the shower, I was asking him question. Some he knew the answers to. Others he did not. 20 minutes later, he regains his ability to speak coherently and form sentences in full. He had a terrible migraine, the final remnant of whatever this was.

After doing a little research, I have discovered this to be a TIA or Transient Ischemic Attack. Fancy word for itty bitty widdle stroke. Oddly enough, my husband had just been into the doctor for his full physical on Thursday afternoon. Aside from the hotband throwing on 40 pounds in the past 4 years, he is in pretty good shape.

I keep thinking what a pair we will be, if he is prone to stroke, the way I am prone to seizures. Can you get a naked visual of that? Twitch, foam, froth, shake, mumble, gurgle, flop. How sexy can this possibly get, can I ask? Needless to say, he is getting his happy ass back to the doctor tomorrow for an MRI. If my husband has swiss cheese for brains, I have a right to know. It would explain a lot...like why he never REALLY hears what I have to say.

And here I thought he was just a typical man. Hmph. Should have known better.

We played in the ocean again yesterday afternoon, when I knew his bodily functions were restored and he would serve more of a purpose than just a floatation device. We stayed in the ocean til the sun began to set. It was beautiful. We brought in Italian food and ate. Had more sex. Didn't have any alcohol. Was asleep by the time Saturday Night Live came on. My husband took pictures of me in compromised positions while I slept, further proving that despite having a stroke, men still have one track minds.

In other news, the Blogathon is six days away. I have not yet discovered any tried and true techniques for being able to stay awake all night. Any suggestions are welcomed! For those of you who have AOL IM, my name there is "LawfulPoet" and I would appreciate you pinging me all throughout the Blogathon to keep me awake! We have raised an INCREDIBLE amount of money for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. $884.00 to be exact! I'd like to make it a nice, rounded ONE THOUSAND bucks, so if you know anyone who hasn't yet sponsored someone, please direct them over here! You guys have done a fantastic job with the sponsorships/contributions/offers to help me stay awake. I am very fortunate to have the best group of bloggers anywhere on the net supporting me and my cause.

Click the Princess to Sponsor Me!

I'd pander and solicit a bit more for sponsors, but this bitch is REALLY tired. There should be a law against blogging while in a state of exhaustion. Creativity goes out the window and my normal ability to amuse and entertain dissipates greatly.

In a final push for prayer...I need to direct you over to Softball Slut's page. This sweetheart has asked that we show her family the same outpouring of love, hope, karma, prayer, thoughts and good wishes that you all extended to my son during our time of need. Apparently, her boyfriends father is in a bad way. From Softball Slut:

My BF's (M) dad is in the hospital. He went into respitory arrest and his heart stopped beating. He is in the hospital to having to have his foot amputated due to complications from diabetes. If you could please send your Princess tidings, I would be much obliged. M reads my blog everyday, and the littlest things help. Thanks again.

Please, ante up the good stuff and send them in her direction. Either drop by her page or post them in the comments over here. She's a frequent reader of mine, but her boyfriend reads her blog every single day. He is by his fathers side right now, offering him support and I bet the poor guy could use a pick me up.

Anyway, I am getting my tired, fat old Jew ass to bed. This week has been a BIT too much for me and I think it is better that I sleep away Sunday and get to Monday ASAP.

Peace and love, y'all. Take care of one another.