A Madcap Diatribal Continuation...

of yesterday's post, using a meme/rant, borrowing from Whirl's hoot of a meme on his post. AND an idea (Sylvia's great idea, not mine) about a thing we can do next week.

(Yeah, I've finished my novel, and my brain is flailing around in there, trying to work up ways not to start cleaning out closets and starting on the yard, not to mention the freakout that comes when you're 'done' with your novel and you're thinking about how, who and if it's ever gonna be true that someone is gonna help you get your work out into the world. That's all. Just that. No biggie. Just life and death matters.)
All righty then...

PRE-RANT ---- Sylvia's idea for next week:

Everyone please send me a picture of themelves from back in the day (no 3 day old infant pics, please, or anything under a year or so) that you don't think people will recognize. (It DOES need to be an actual picture of you, however.) Then, on Thursday of next week, I'll pop the pictures on here, labelled A thru ?. Whoever is the first (in the comments section of that post) to guess the most correct answers, will win a copy of whichever book they want from EE's Book Chat list.

EE and ril, this means you, too, if you'll please play.

On to the meme rant:

1. Just because I have a fucking vagina doesn't mean I live to do the laundry.

2. My brother, a huge, jock kind of guy, once was drunk enough to tell his friends that if he ever got in a tight fight kind of situation (you know, wars and foxholes, kill or be killed stuff) and he could only pick one person to team up with, he'd pick me. One of the guys apparently laughed (I'm five feet tall, after all, and a female, and oh my, we all know females are all wilty and passive.) My brother said, and I quote: "You've never seen her mad."

3. Just because I have a vagina doesn't mean I'm a great cook, a good cook, a happy cook, or even all that wild about going to the grocery to get food for someone else to cook. Not that anyone around here does. And I can't get mad about that, as the person who doesn't cook or do laundry is building an addition on our home that's truly beautiful, so I'm screwed doing the traditional girl stuff, since he's doing the traditional guy stuff, and that makes me nuts. Even though I don't want to learn to do the traditional guy stuff.

4. Just because I have breasts doesn't mean I'm 24/7 all that worked up about being all communal and nurturing. Sometimes I feel like it. Sometimes I want to be left to myself and have some time to breathe (JB likes this part a lot. It's the part that says to him Go forth, handsome man, and golf. Golf all day, please, and then, for God's sake and mine, stay at the clubhouse and drink with your friends for a while....

5. I love traveling but I'm not so nuts about flying since we've had terrorists around. They fucking piss me off. I wouldn't mind at all being the one who lines them up and takes them out. And make no mistake about it, and I do mean NONE; if I had one on board a flight with me; I already know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'd be absolutely fine with slicing one up. Not a problem. I'm very nice to people who are nice to me, or to just the general 'everyone' around me. But mess with me or mine, and death is an option. This is where I'm mumbling shit under my breath like...oh yeah, asswipe, like forty virgins would even get near your slimey assed self, you mothrfuckers. I hate your asses. Die now.

6. When I'm in a certain kind of a mood, and unsettled, like now, I like to rant. Hell. I NEED to rant.(I think just about everyone does this.) Always before it was a quiet thing in my mind. Then BT helped me set up this blog. HA!

7. I hate sushi a lot. It smells and it's uncooked. Apples and plums uncooked? Mmmmm mmmmm good. Fish uncooked? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

8. I wish I could live down in a warm swimming pool, and it was always summer, and I was always sixteen.

9. I miss running. About ten years ago, I ran a lot. Absolutely addicted. So addicted to the natural high that I kept popping Motrin when my right-leg hamstrings started popping and burning. Then I blew out groin ligaments in the leg, and I was permanently sidelined. I miss that runner's high more than I miss, well, I'd better not say, or you all will think I'm really mean, instead of only honest.

10. I love white wine, and it doesn't have to be especially good stuff. I have no discerning palate.

Okay- the last few weren't rants. I got tired, plus I was finished ranting but yet felt compelled to get to the number 10.

Hope some of you do your own rant meme - if you do, please let me know so I can come enjoy it!