The Most Outlandish Tale About Anxiety and Depression Ever Told

 Wait wait, the story doesn’t start here!  This is a blog hop, people!High Anxiety Blog Hop
Click HERE to start from the beginning.

 

 

I stepped closer. “Whoa! Is that what I think it is?!”

The Cretin Brothers took a step back. Disbelief shown on their ugly faces. Reaching around in the purse my hand found my lipstick tube. I flicked it open and pepper spray hit both of the ugly Midnight Movers.
“Ooops”  I said.

My heart thudded as the immediate arresting thoughts slammed me:

  1. I’d forgotten to re-stock the Xanax in this purse
  2. The phone number for 911 had completely escaped my mind
  3. That tube of lipstick had better not be lost. Revlon discontinued that shade
  4. The portable charger was easy to find in my bag
  5. We’re gonna need a bigger boat

As the ugly stick kids gagged and wiped at their eyes I hobbled over to the item they’d dropped. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes. Bending down I grabbed the extension cord and plugged it into the charger. In an utterly selfless act I aimed the rounded end of the object towards Tall Guy’s tuchus. With a mighty push on the wheels a glow and hum began to emanate from the missile shaped package. They suddenly understood. Mascara running down his cheeks, Tall reached down to grab his ankles.

Short dark and ugly stood by and watched as the A-Bomb shot directly towards his comrade’s backside “Oh dear Gods! It’s a giant…..

Click HERE to continue the story!

 

Transverse Myelitis: My Feet Are Baked Potatoes!

This is my story of Transverse Myelitis.
Hint: The floor is lava!

If you’re a regular reader -crickets- you know that on August 11th of last year I was diagnosed with a very rare spinal/neurological disease called Transverse Myelitis. ‘TM affects approximately 1 person in a million. Yes, I AM one in a million but that goes without saying.

House MD Vicodin ad

I’ll accept the Oxy instead. Thanks Doc

If you’ve never heard of Transverse Myelitis it’s not surprising. It’s the kind of thing Gregory House would diagnose.

My primary care doctor had never heard of it. A neurologist in a small or medium-sized city may come across one case in their lifetime. It’s a wicked disease with a sudden onset and 80% of the time no forewarning. If a TM sufferer does have severe unexplained weakness in their legs it can be shrugged off with ‘Jesus I need to get more exercise’ or if they pee themselves before getting to the toilet on two or three occasions consider ‘Fuck I’m getting old fast.’

Don’t ask me how I know this.

I was on disability for a completely unrelated illness before the TM onset. Usual story; A mild-mannered writer, musician, Veteran Burner of 8 years and dangerously fast downhill skier. Okay, not so much the mild-mannered.

One day I was running errands with a friend and slowly became disoriented.  I insisted on making a bank deposit. It was Sunday and no banks were open but why let reality get in the way of a swelling brain? My dear friend TK pulled up to a random building, gave a hobo $5.00, and pulled away from the curb back into traffic. Seems this cunning plan satisfied me. He then drove directly to the hospital. I opened the car door, and  stepped out. On to my face. Seemed my legs were no longer listening to my brain.
Next thing I remember is being in the emergency room with a morphine, then Fentanyl, drip. The pain was worse than:

  • a) 29 Hours of Labor and Childbirth
  • b) Passing a Kidney Stone As Big As The Ritz
  • c) Lumbar Fusion and Recovery
  • d) Rupturing Gallbladder
  • e) All of the Above. Combined

There was a barrage of questions which I answered cogently yet have no memory of. Followed by MRI’s, lumbar puncture, blood work and finally neurologists jacking me up with steroids. By the next morning I was paralyzed from the waist down. Screw that! During my two month hospitalization  I went from all wheelchair to sometimes using a walker in the halls, stopped drinking coffee with my forehead, and ditched the catheter. Unexpected and inopportune releases of natural gas still occur and I have to schedule bathroom visits to make sure my bladder isn’t full, but it beats the hell out of a colostomy bag!
The first two weeks in the hospital were also spent with psychosis and hallucinations. This was a side-effect of the steroids. Didn’t make many friends during that time. At one point I briefly came out of it and was chained, with what looked like dog leashes, to a wheelchair. Remember yelling about contacting attorneys, the police and possibly the Better Business Bureau.
Found out later that my restraints were there for my safety. Not the nurses. Whoa.

TM has other dandy symptoms besides paralysis. Chronic pain. Forever. Nerve damage that causes, in my case; electrical shocks, twitches, balance problems, overwhelming fatigue, nerve pain manifesting as molten lava running from hip to foot, ripping into the tops of my feet with what feels like a dragon’s claws. There are a host of bizarre and ever-changing indications. Hell, my blood pressure permanently dropped 20 points. Went from severely hypertensive and on Lisinopril to having an attention-grabbing low B.P. Told you that the cigarettes would never kill me.
I walk on stilts and my feet are baked potatoes.
Right? How the hell do you describe this shit.
In the future I look forward to brain lesions, respiratory failure -told you that the smoking would never kill me- and a possible slide into MS. The latter scares me as there are a few people in my Facebook support group who have faced it. We TMers wake up every morning not knowing what symptoms will occur that day. It makes us braver, more careful of our health, and perhaps a bit more neurotic.

The Grateful and Positive Scale:  I am NOT tied to a bag for the remainder of my life. The lesion is at C4 and my arms work pretty damn well. Bonus: I did not die within 48 hours of a misdiagnosis. Lots of people with TM are quads or remain permanently paralyzed from the waist down. Too many are not diagnosed quickly enough. The paralysis gets to the chest and they die of organ failure, gasping for breath,  before anyone realizes what has happened.
I’m one of the lucky ones. Two neurologists were on staff that night and both had treated a Transverse Myelitis patient.
It’s called Transverse Myelitis as the lesion crosses the spinal cord. The lesion transverses the spine. Myelitis is an inflammation of the spinal cord. For an unknown reason your immune system decides to attack and destroy the mylan (the sheath surrounding the spinal cord), instead of sitting in a corner or working itself up over a flu shot.

There's a Baked Potato Inside Each One

There’s a Baked Potato Inside Each One!

I had to leave my home in Nevada (because I shot a man in Reno, just to see him die), gave away more than half of my possessions, and moved in with -gulp/shudder/eeeek!- my mom. Life is lived in a small bedroom at the back of her house. I only get out for numerous doctor appointments, and now Physical Therapy. P.T. is awesome by the way. Painful, but awesome. The first positive feedback on a miraculous recovery that I received, from anyone, in 6 months, was from one of my P.T. therapists. He said I was serious and making great progress. Whoop!

Unfortunately there is no one in this town that I know. Can’t drive a car so it feels like I’m a prisoner. My boyfriend of 3 years came to visit me during the 5th week of my hospitalization, my legs were still paralyzed.  He said he’d met someone new.
Honestly, I wish I were dead most days.
Between pain and loneliness, being fairly certain that no man will ever want me again, and no longer having a home of my own, life can be a bummer. Okay it sucks.

It took six months for mom to admit that her eldest daughter would be mainly wheelchair-bound for the remainder of her life. My mom is awesome, but she’s the poster for ‘We’ll Simply Ignore it and it Will Go Away Syndrome’. Finally this week she took me to Cripples-R-Us, and we made the leap to reality.

Those bastards wanted $300.00 for the cheapest manual wheelchair model, on sale. Yeah right.
After getting back home I spent close to fourteen hours researching all kinds of chairs online. Actually found the one I test drove and ordered it yesterday. $166.00 fully assembled. I rock. Plus, there’s money left over to pay on the collection accounts with various physicians and hospitals, and two chocolate bars. 70% Dark with Sea Salt.
The chair should arrive on Tuesday. This has cheered me immensely today. I’ll do the daily at home P.T. regimen for the rest of my life, but there’s no way I will walk more than a few steps, with a serious gait weirdness. Can do about 5 minutes in the house, with the Cadillac (a cherry-red walker with brakes and a seat) before the pain skyrockets, feet go completely numb and legs give out.  You better believe I’ve been working it though. ANYTHING to get better and get my life back.

Still, there are situations that most everyone with a spinal cord injury faces. Mainly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Haven’t saved enough to afford the 20% co-pay for the power wheelchair prescribed by the neurologist. The nerve problems in my hands and arms sometimes cause them to cease functioning correctly. A manual chair is just fine with me now though.
Hey baby, can you give me a little push? -provocative wink-
Where do I go for help? Is there any? If it were not for my mother I’d be homeless. How many people do not have this opportunity? What happens to them? Questions pound my head every waking hour.

Worried about transportation in this very rural area. Worried about finding a place to live. Worried about a motorized wheelchair. I’m too young for everything from low-income senior housing (jesus that sounds depressing eh?) to meals on wheels.
How do I get to the barrage of doctor appointments that TM brings? They’re all in Folsom and El Dorado, a half hour drive. The neurologist, Dr. Mengle, sorry Dengle, is in Sacramento. An hour away.

Force my head to consider the progress and good things. Never did purchase AFO braces for my feet and legs.It’s too late now. I can stand on a foam cushion for 20 seconds, and once, on the floor with my feet together, eyes open, for a full minute.
The Lyrica helps with the electrical shocks and best of all I hardly ever twitch now. Words no longer fail me, unless it’s in response to a surreal utterance by my daughter.
Continue working on getting the pain meds balanced and fine tuned. Right now I’m a walking DEA raid. It’s gonna stay that way. Considering a large stock purchase in Milk of Magnesia.

Found a cool psychologist (makes a stylish bookend to the psychiatrist) here in Hangtown. He’s helped convince me to start a screenplay (been thinking of this for a few years) and use this to begin a new direction of life. As with the Transverse Myelitis, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M DOING! Learning though. Outlining the story, reading scripts, trying to take the director outta my head and remember my only job is to write. For now.
Beats watching Wheel of Fortune and eating Pringles all day.

Get Up. Get Out. Get Better.
Brilliant isn’t it?
These are the words of Lynne Murray, the nifty guy who rolled up and introduced himself to Sandy and I a few weeks ago, as we sat sipping coffee and making a scene at the Cozmic Cafe. Lynn heads a group called the Placerville Mobility Support. There are meetings the 4th Monday of each month. I can hardly wait.

TM sexy~Miss R

Hanukkah Harry: The Mensch. The Myth. The Meshugenah.

hannakkuh-harrySM

YoYo-Dyne receives hundreds of thousands of search hits each December from folks spread across the globe. All looking for more information on that icon of Chutzpah, Hanukkah Harry.

Mr. Harry agreed to an interview and we are honored to present you with this historic discussion.

Miss R: Welcome Hanukkah! Can I call you Hanukkah?
HH: Thank you Miss R. It’s a pleasure to be here. For you, Hanukkah is just fine. Hanukkah Harry knows who’s been naughty or nice. Your naughtiness always makes up for your flaw in being only half a Hebe.
Miss R: Oh, thank you Hanukkah. You’re eyeing the tasty treats I’ve made. Care for one?
HH: Ummmm what are they? Almost looks like rugelach.
Miss R: It’s my own creation: Shiksa Cakes. I just used stale white bread to make the pastry and the filling is made with nuts, dates and mayonnaise. All Kosher!
HH: Going to pass on those but I applaud you. Remember the year you left out lobster rolls on the first night? It still saddens me to think that instead of socks I was forced to leave a lump of Plutonium-240.
Miss R: Not to worry Hanukkah, I sold it to a certain country in the Middle East and made a tidy profit.
HH: That’s my girl!

Miss R: Let’s move on to some questions. First, why did you wait until the late 1980’s to reveal yourself?
HH: It seemed the right time. Jon Lovitz approached me and I gave my blessing. What a funny boychik! He pissed me off though and I had to cancel his subscription to Funny B List Actors.
Miss R: What would you buy for yourself to celebrate the holidays?
HH: I’d buy time, and I’d get it wholesale. I like to call it a time off for good behavior deal.
Miss R: Who do you consider the sexiest woman in the world?
HH: That’s an easy one, not that your latkes don’t bring all the boys to the yard. It’s Mrs. Claus of course. Have you seen her lately? Hasn’t aged in a millennium! Got her looks from her father, a plastic surgeon.
Miss R: I see you wear your hair in the traditional Orthodox manner. A lot of our readers want to know why you haven’t kept up with the times.
HH: Are you kidding me? No way can I survive without these curly locks, and bagels.
Miss R: You’ve previously saved Christmas and proved yourself a friend to Goy and Jew alike. Are you still proud of this accomplishment?
HH: Proud? I get verklempt each time someone mentions it. Fred Phelps spontaneously combusting couldn’t please me more.

Miss R: We’re about out of time. From myself and all of the Lectoids here at YoYo-Dyne, here’s to a Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas. Any last thoughts?
HH: Miss R I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening, and this wasn’t it. Just quote me as saying I was mis-quoted. Zey gezunt!

That’s all for tonight. Join us next week for our exclusive interview with the Baby Jesus.
Was bacon really the contributing factor in establishing his new religion?

hanukkah wish2

~Miss R

What Your Search Terms Are Saying Behind Your Back

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Due to a Creative Block currently tying up Highway 50 just east of Right Side of the Brain Plaza off-ramp, YoYo-Dyne finally presents today’s offering. There has never been a post so bone -headed -chilling, spell-binding, spine crackling, lacking in original concept and dripping with so many useless adjectives it’s reminiscent of rats abandoning a neglected blog.

You’ll Laugh! You’ll Cry! You’ll Drool with Joy!
Hell, you’ll go running next door to rub your balls on the neighbor’s dog!

Sit back, grab a beverage and get ready to find out some frightening facts about our readers

THE WEIRD AND DISTURBING SEARCH TERMS USED TO LAND HERE AT
YOYO-DYNE PROPULSION SYSTEMS

  • Sloths for Sale – The first thing that came to mind upon seeing this was naturally ‘Dammit. It’s no longer legal to sell The Demon Seed ™ since she’s over 18.’ To my knowledge there are no sloth pictures, sloth memes, wash sloths or Placental Mammals of any kind lurking on the premises.
  •  sloth for sale – NO SLOTHS FOR YOU! There are three additional sloth related search terms as well. I became perplexed and did a search of the site. Then fell back to sleep.
  • Funny Reason To Hire Me – This had a lot of views. Several years ago I wrote a post called Amazingly Compelling Reason To Hire Me. In all humility it is the funniest CV ever produced. What scares me about the number of queries on this one is that some poor schmuck is looking to steal my intellectual property. Albeit 6 year old intellectual property. Swine.
  •  dead christmas tree – When I think twisted humor, mental illness, sobriety, cute kitties, and rare neuro-spinal diseases the first thought is always The Yoyo-Dyne Propulsion Systems’ Dead Christmas Tree Lot and Sloth Farm’
  • fuck my weed and my weed fuck – While I neither endorse nor condone the use of any controlled substance (Try it. What are you? Chicken?) there is no phrase remotely similar to either of these well thought out searches. We do not endorse nor condone the use of expletives either. You weed fucker.
  •  fapping to facebook pictures – Yes it’s true. There is a lengthy comment section on a piece in which I try to explain fapping to some of my favorite readers, mostly in the UK and Australia. Yes. It was in relation to a F**eBook status I’d written that day. Yes. I have no shame.
  • hanukkah santa sorry change the door – Truly, this cannot be explained. Let’s move on shall we?
  •  dumbass ex husband pic – Hahahahaha. Joke’s on them. I have two dumbass ex husbands.
  • sloth un rape – Dear god what is wrong with people? Just saw this one. Sloth.
  •  purple bondage tits – For you long time readers there’s no question why this baby showed up. WP insists on giving YoYo-Dyne the equivalent of an R rating. Someone in the head office likes boobies but won’t share. Sonny wouldn’t Cher either and look what happened to him.
  •  pimped out walkers – These two anonymous Googlers made my dark cold heart swell three sizes today
  • stephen hawking drunk – another twofer! Yep it isn’t enough that the guy is a human autoclave. Let’s give Steve a hangover and let him click-twitch-bang-clackety his way to the fridge for an early morning PBR.
  • mitt romney fuck – This speaks for itself

Here are a couple more just because: homeless whore – two queries using this search term; probably the ex husbands, -peter o’toole and cat, -why germans always loose the war, -draun rag vineo yo yo hane sige, -sex, drugs & wheelchairs, -i feel fantastic

Had the usual 100+ hits for Hanukkah Harry, End of the World stuff, Depressing Playlists, anything and everything Burning Man, and at least twenty regarding Wombies.

I suggest using at least six of these search terms in your next writing endeavor. Obviously these are my people. They can be yours too.

No need to thank me. My job is to be a ray of sunshine in your rain clouded Word program of brain storms.
You’re welcome.

~Miss R 

You Wish You All Could Be California Girls

I killed a man in Reno just to see him die.

No, don’t worry. The Reno PD are slow to find bodies. Or their own squad cars. This has given me time to return to the state of my childhood and another ten years here after the golden age of music, idiocracy and debauchery: Living and working in NYC during the 80’s.

Left the wilds of Reno for the womb with a view in Gold Country. That’s right. I’ve moved in with my mother and step-dad. Arrived with the 24 foot moving van, electronics, musical instruments, 3 pieces of furniture, more books than you can shake a librarian at, more music than you could shake a piano at, Lizzie Borden the cat, and most importantly shovels, axes, Hefty bags, cinch ties and a valid passport.

Arrived Thursday night in northern California, nestled between Lake Tahoe and Sacramento. Mountains, forests, working gold mines hidden in the hills and pot farms. It’s nice to be home.

Been rolling rolling rolling the past two months.  Got the Cadillac of Walkers here. Four wheels. Count ’em FOUR. Still looking for an electric wheelchair to do my Bette Midler routine. Walk like Lurch. If Lurch were 5’2″ tall and a gal with an hourglass figure. My hourglass just has 20 minutes more than the dull standard item. Trying to get a handle on leaving friends behind, people who weren’t friends behind and people I had to duct tape to the furnace behind. Hold on, let me turn on the tunes and hit shuffle.

Wow! You Get What You Give.

Plan to sit outside in the sun later. Already seeing myself as FDR out in the yard. Hand me that blanket will ya? All I need is a war room to work on the current world domination plan. Or, I could paint a Risk board on the patio table. Will let you know. Having a freakish stretch of warm weather before the snow. Yeah I’m still close to Donner Pass. If I invite you for dinner be sure to bring your own utensils. Rolling around in salt and garlic before leaving your place would be a nice touch.

I’m trapped with the parental units until Spring.
Some Good Points:
Room and Board $300.00 a month
Save some money for the first time in 5 years. After time in Baltimore I’ll find a new place here in NoCal.
Plenty of time to work on strengthening exercises and PT
No longer forced to call the fire department to change my bib
Someone around to help me get up when I go crashing to the floor
Chance to meet new friends! Okay it’s the damned mailman but we’re taking baby steps
No distractions to keep me from writing and pondering
Some Bad Points:
Have to ask mommy to drive me to the store or meeting
House is on a hill so there is no escape. It’s literally all downhill from here
I can’t leave my room without an interrogation. I now expect a Spanish Inquisition.
Both of my parents are deaf as fuck. Everyone is shouting. All of the time. Note to Self: Holidays approaching. Purchase Hearing Aids. Learn ASL. Teach parents.
Am not improving and the looks of pity from the family are killing me.  I really do shake rattle and roll! Thank god I’m a piano player.
The man I loved left me. It’s a bitch to try and suddenly un-love someone.
Johns Hopkins is in fucking Baltimore. Not a winter get-away destination. Have to hold on until Spring.
No distractions to keep me from writing and pondering

never waste t ime

Got my cat, was allowed to keep one desktop and one laptop. Quote from mom “What the fuck?! You have too many electronics.”  Yes, I received the Executive Training in Expletives from Mom. “What the hell is that?!”  It’s my practice amp Mom. “For the love of Christ what is this?” It’s a Blue-Ray player mom. “You are NOT taking all of those computers into the house!” Okay Mom I’ll just leave my life’s work in computer coding, the graphics server and other two towers in the climate controlled storage unit. Ooops snuck in a second laptop. Hope she doesn’t find my stash. Of computers. Damn that’s just sad. I need to find weed just to really get that ‘home for semester break’ feel.

DEAR GOD MY MUSIC SERVER IS IN A STORAGE UNIT
But it’s okay mon, Everything is gonna be alright!

I get a do-over. Not many people are given that option. Sure it comes at a price but doesn’t everything. Plan on spending a month or two at Johns Hopkins this Spring. Going to be a guest at the world’s only clinic dedicated to Transverse Myelitis. Enroll in any and all of their clinical trials. Learn new ways to ambulate with their specialized PT program. I’m SO ready.

With caring, learning and self-love I’m going to not only walk unassisted again but kick some ass. Gonna dance under the moonlight on the playa. Spend lots of time strolling the streets of San Francisco with my daughter. Laugh with friends. Meet new people… and try not to kill them. Who knows what this coming ten-year cycle will bring.

It’s a new state of living. The state of California. Miss R home for the holidays. Swimming pools, movie stars.

Well now it’s time to say
Goodbye to Rach and all her kin,
They would like to thank
You folks for kindly droppin’ in.
You’re all invited back again to this locality
To have a heapin’ helpin’ of her hospitality
City Girl that is, sit a spell, take your shoes off.
Y’all come back now, y’hear?

~Miss R

Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Winner of the Week!

A Big Hello to our friends and axe wielding Viewers!

Live from our underground  bunker in an undisclosed neighborhood of Fabulous Reno Nevada, your update on the most highly rated contest now available in any media!

 The Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest

Unpaid Spokesperson in no way represents Rachael's actual image

Unpaid Spokesperson in no way represents Rachael’s actual image

  • Survivor?  For lazy slobs with giant televisions and no job
  • Big Brother? Could not watch an entire episode. It’s that cretinous
  • Jersey Shore? Never seen it but I hear it involves a goodly amount of tanning lotion and buttsx. Time is better spent working on my newest piece of Artwork: Filth Encrusted Used Chewing Gum and Unidentifiable Icky Things On Sneakers.

It’s Interactive too
Not Interactive in the sense of the above listed contests. You know, Vote For Your Favorite by texting IAMABOOB to Sprint at the low low cost of $3.00 per vote. *
*no longer available in Washington D.C. due to overload of communications services during episode airtime.  Re-runs currently crash the Sprint network

Turn your Internet dial to YoYo-Dyne for the newest and best of contests. Guaranteed to benefit you and your karma, but more importantly, it benefits me.

Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy!

This week’s winner is Peter M. and The Wombies! Direct from the Great White North and Wombania come Wine Gums, a treat unknown to we in the lower 48. Just in time for Wombat Day! Get out your chocolate, wine gums, pancake batter and milkshakes on October 22nd. Meet Victor and Victoria, my adopted Wombies. FREE balloons for the kids!

You know they’re Canadian. The UPS delivery guy tumbled down the concrete steps outside repeatedly shouting Thank You Sir May I Have Another after handing over the delightful package.

Last week’s winner is Gina C from The OC! What can I say but… A full fucking pound of See’s Candy. My favorite assortment. Too bad for you folks East of the Mississippi, it’s Fanny Farmer for you.

The Beaver Babe (Gina C), Piano Wench (I AM that Wench) and Pope Dirty Bastard.

The Beaver Babe (Gina C), Piano Wench (I AM that Wench) and Pope Dirty Bastard.

Don Pardo, tell them what they’ve won!

Well Rachael, our two top contestants win this Fabulous Lazy-E Boy complete living room set! Sorry, not available to residents of Canada or California .Shipping not included.

Also, potential fame and fortune for appearing as featured guests on the Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest!

Last, a lifetime supply of Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco Treat! Sent to our winners in six unwieldy enormous wooden crates. Sorry winners, shipping not included.

Rachael here with thanks to Peter and the Wombies, Gina C and all of you who have sent your good wishes and positive thoughts.

We’ll end tonight’s festivities with an interpretive dance created by me, for you.

I call it ‘The Zombie Pirate Walker Boogie!’

Thanks again and we’ll see you next week for another tingling and suspense filled episode of The Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest!

~Miss R

-bettie page photo courtesy of burymeinthisdress.com-

Springtime in Reno!

Been busy freaking out (Chic! Le Freak!) so here’s a post that I liked and didn’t seem to garner a lot of readers when I first wrote it. Now re-presented in all it’s glory,

Springtime for Hobos in Germany! Reno!

ittle Nugget Reno

the famous (and infamous)Little Nugget in Reno. NOTE: guy in picture NOT a hobo

Not sure if you’ve noticed but the increase in hobos? At least here in Reno . It’s Spring-time!

Sadly not trampoline-spring-like but season-Spring-like.

The sewer grates are no longer frozen closed and the parking garages have already had cars broken into. Not to steal a stereo. To piss in. Maybe take a nap as well. Hopefully the latter first. At least when I lived in Brooklyn they just stole your stereo and broke your window. Which is why only a cretin has a car in New York City.

Please pay attention to the examples of Springtime for Hobos and Germany as  there will not be a test later. These are the finest in Reno Hobo quotes of the last few days.

1.” Can I mow your lawn? If it gets any longer it’s very bad for the yard ” Lawn? Are you fucking kidding me? Big-ass Weed patch is a kind description. Then noted that the hobo has no lawn mower or shears. Pretty sure this guy was the ACTUAL Green River killer. Told him that the herd of hobo-eating goats would be here within 24 hours.

2. “You do realize that your house number has to painted on your curb to confirm to law? I’m willing to splash water color numbers using paint from my filthy, inbred, homeless F student’s paint set using this stolen stencil from the Dollar Store . For $5.00.”. Almost fell for this one.
Too bad for this guy; was going to trade him a can of Sterno and a piece of white bread but I’d already used those items to trade for a car wash by another hobo. You should have seen him. Hauling buckets of water from the back yard.Told him the hose was broken and the only water was around back of the house,then through the mud, and out on to the street. Heh. There are actually three spigots along the front of the house. They’re hidden by the weeds that I refused to pay Hobo Number One to cut down.

3.” KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!” There’s a sign on the door (placed Prominently) that says Please Ring Bell. If you are that illiterate yet are still able to find Thunderbird and a shopping cart  to perambulate along the boulevard you are a hobo. And I’m not getting off of my beautiful little ass to answer the door for stupid people. This includes family. Hell, hope it wasn’t Zombie Ed McMahon with that 10 Million dollar check. Hmmmm.

4.  The well-known alkies in front of the ‘Little Nugget’ downtown. Home of the  famous Awful Awful burger and BEST burger in town. Normally there are a group of hobos collected here, only because the Little Nugget (yes there is a big Nugget but that’s another blog) can’t afford the outside security available at Harrah’s, The El Dorado, Circus Circus  or any other of the more upscale casinos in town. Actually the Little Nugget Hobos are off about 10 feet from the front door of the Casino.
I give these hobos my left-over burger and fries. Trust me, these are the  high-end Hobos. Well-fed. Usually have a little booze, a kind word (as opposed to the usual grunt or attempted wolf-whistle; difficult with 7 teeth). Speaking of which I’ve noticed a higher ratio of teeth-to-Hobo on these guys.
Have a  good friend that gave them $5.00 one time; to split between them for some booze. Have no idea how many were kneed that night in the melee.
No not really. There was no fight. Above mentioned friend TK asked which among the group was their leader. After some head lice scratching, beard fumbling, apparent concentration one of the men stood tall and announced ‘I’m the leader.’  TK handed the Hobo the fiver and told him to get a bottle to split amongst he and his friends. A cheer went up and we made a lot of Hobos very happy that night.
That man, leader of the Little Nugget pack, truly is…..King of the Hobos.

So one day, if you’re in Reno looking for a dive to play slots at, the best burger for a 100 miles and good strong cheap drinks remember me. No really. At this rate I’ll be there (outside) with my melodica, flute and a hat to collect tips.

Don’t feel sorry for me. Just save some fries and half of your burger; easy to do. An Awful-Awful can feed two easily.
Really, anything for a half of an Awful-Awful.
Especially after 2: 00 a.m.

And maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll be Queen of  The Hobos!

~Miss R

ACK! Hairballs and Beautiful Big Babes

Bill the Cat ACK!

My terrific tuchas was seated, preparing to start in on this blog. Today’s diatribe had been pondered and expanded in the dark, humorous and still functioning portion of my neo-cortex.  Suddenly from behind came the dreaded, soul stealing, inspiration killing sound of… HORK.
It was Lizzie Borden, known deranged Queen of Inbred Persian Catdom, spewing forth hairball goodness. On the bedspread. The new beige bedspread.

This morning I’d decided to write a piece on body image. Specifically the obsession with impossibly thin women and men. Such a post it was to be! Complete with Fabulous Fotos of Fine-Ass Fatties, the beauty of individuality, sexy attire for all bodies and finally words of encouragement, help and empowerment.

Apparently it wasn’t meant happen. After hauling the bedspread down to the basement I couldn’t stop laughing.
The basement furnace (circa 1928) is where I incinerate the junk mail,  Jehovah’s Witnesses religious pamphlets and occasional census taker forms. After staring at the furnace the bedspread was dumped into the washing machine.

We’ll give the beauty and pain post another go tomorrow.
Remember: When life gives you cat vomit make cat vomit milk shakes!*

~Miss R

*Note: This flavor no longer endorsed to bring the boys to your yard

Currently listening:
House: Original Television Soundtrack

Fuckin’ A Fridays: Zombie Edition

It’s Fuckin’ A Fridays!
Resurrected for your enjoyment. Now With More Brrraaaaains

Eternal pursuit of happiness

This week’s Interweb assemblage has been garnered via hours of intensive research. avoidance of the human race, procrastination (designing a new header for the blog), physically taxing duties (returning texts) and resisting the incursion and retreat of De Gaulle. And his bladder.

All the while sparing no expense, and at the risk of great bodily harm. Yes!
Dangerously and precariously balanced on the table next to Laptop Command Central totters the aging, dusty and cat hair entombed Stack of Death. A horrifying site of deforestation comprised of collection notices, medical bills, pleas for donations (sucks to be you), credit card offers from banks unaware of Miss R’s credit score, SSD paperwork, Medicare paperwork, and the abomination of them all: a six by 9 inch stack of papers, scraps of papers, and plasticized pieces of paper we like to call To Be Filed.

Never venturing far from YoYo-Dyne’s Secret Underground Bunker located somewhere in Reno, underground, here are the funniest and most amusingly WTF items uncovered this week.

einstein funnySource

Have finally managed to save time when visitors come by and want to ‘play’ my piano

How to play Jaws

Read one of those ubiquitous online directives ‘Pick up the book closest to you. Turn to Page 45. The first complete sentence describes your sex life for 2013.’  What I found was “Don’t hold your breath trying to get through.” How do it know?!

pulp fiction memeSource

That’s it for today. Tune in next week for the continuing saga ‘Getting Off Your Adorable Ass and Accomplishing Something Creative.’ Followed by our new segment ‘Defenestration, Power Bills, and You!’

~Miss R

Bearman’s Yearly Acts of Kindness: How to Use a Cartoonist’s Money to Help Others

Each year Bearman uses his talent to bring not only karmic points into your life, but  much-needed material items for those in need. Especially those in the Cincinnati area.

Follow the simple instructions located on Beartoons.com and pitch in. It costs you nothing but a few minutes. In return one of the finest cartoonists on the web (and an undisclosed planet near our own) gives out of his pockets to help others.

If you’re not familiar with this artist it’s about damned time you check out his work. Funny, colorful, imaginative and his skewed commentary via caricatures and full ‘toon panels will convert you to the Bear Side.
Note: The Dark Side has cookies. The Wombie Side has Wine Gums and the Bear Side has…um, well, Bare Naked Joy!

Tune In, Help Out, Meet The Artist and if you’re very very lucky… Get Mugged in broad daylight. In my case,  A Broad mugged in full Bear Light.

Clickity Click on link right below!

Bearman Cartoons Charity Challenge 2013

2013 Charity Challenge

The Time Has Come

To Say What’s Fair.
Oh hell. Started singing instead of making a point.
Still, where can we go when our beds are burning.
-slaps self in face-.

Have more than 400 emails to catch up on. Yeppers all my fave bloggers. Sure lots are comment to return. I’m that kinda gal. Can’t do it all though. Even a bumbling genius needs Fresca, bed rest and duct tape.

Wish I had a male secretary. Or a 19th century hand carved secretary. Both are nice to look at when you’re working.

you thought PIZZA was a guy's Obsession

Speaking of which…

There are a few of our oddball cabal  that live in the same area of town. MILES (at least 5) from cheap ‘Indian Reservation’ ciggies (no tax YEAH) and  BoozeWorld.  Apparently the store sign actually says Taste of Wine.

When one our of southwest Reno tribe makes the journey we make calls: whaddaya need?

Lots of stuff on the other side of town: Grocery Outlet,Trader Joe’s,  99 cent food store and of course Boozeworld; for those who imbibe.
Today picked up some smokes and gin for my long time friend TK.
Dropped off said evil vice deposit. Was invited to dinner for my troubles. Gratis. My favorite price for dinner.
Seriously. Would you say no to a promise of pizza that has been proclaimed ‘BEST’ you’ve ever had?

Am a Brooklyn gal. Know my pizza. Still looking for the noms out here in the Wild Wild West. Hell there is (was?) a place on Avenue U near my old apartment on 19th and Ocean Ave in said borough, with the best white sauce brick oven pie. Nothing like it put here. Digressing. As fucking usual when discussing food.

Supplies! Utter noms in Reno.

I promised to drive (hahaha) and TK would buy dinner. Sounds good to me.

We get into Abe (it’s a Lincoln, duh). On the floor is a roll of duct tape, wires and a pocket knife. Oh, and TK had just sharpened 8 of my cooking knives. Located on the front seat.
We looked at each other and said in unison:
‘We’re fucked. We’ll be pulled over as serial killers and we’re not even drinking. and the body parts are already buried.’

Luckily it’s Reno and if you don’t have duct tape, razor-sharp chef and butcher knives plus a gun (which we were missing; left them in the safe) there’s no chance of being pulled over.

Great dinner. Eclipse Pizza. Great people. great food. The kind employees let us take over -as we do- and plugged in TK’s iPhone/Tunes. Joe Jackson with dinner. Can’t beat it with your dick. Maybe stick. Damned auto-correct.

    Secret Menu online. TK ordered the Slumberjack…Pesto sauce, buttload of meat, extra fresh toppings cheap, home made thin crust. Newcastle to drink per TK, as well as many other selections including Icky (a local brew)  on tap.

Gimme time to catch up on mail.
Knew there was a point to this.

~Miss R