Monday, September 27, 2010

Bitch and Moan Monday

That's right, LDs - once again, it's Bitch and Moan Monday!


See, Like Kisha, I generally try to be a happy person, and I uber-hate confrontations. But sometimes rainbows and fucking glitter have to take a backseat to fire and brimstone and the half-evil side of me coming out (Mr Realist thinks I need a 333 tattoo). It's why I'm romantically involved with Kisha. I save up some nuggets of brimstone and tongues of flame, and let them all go on Mondays. It's a perfect fucking day to bitch. Mondays suck most of the time.

Ok, I've read several blogs and the general internet regarding Katy Perry's costume choice when she starred on Sesame Street with Elmo. Everyone has been clamoring to either boycott Sesame Street, or write letters or email or tell everyone you fucking know not to watch because 'how could she wear that on Sesame Street?' Ya know, fuckers, Sesame Street's people had to see her in the outfit before they staged the fucking song. If you're offended by something that looks like an ice dancer's leotard (um, duh, she was covered up to her neck; albeit with flesh-colored fabric, but she was still covered), you need to remove your head from your ass and look at that objectively.

How many of your four- and five-year olds are going to go, "But Mother, I am offended by this gratuitous display of the female form, and shan't watch Sesame Street until Elmo finds a more appropriate playmate"? No. They're going to see someone singing a song and trying to get Elmo to play dress up with her like he said he would, and all he really wants to do is play tag. Ya know, if you think about it, it's teaching children that it's ok to lie to your friends - that you can tell them that you'll play what they want to, and then run around because it's not what you really want to do. Bet you nobody took that into consideration, did they?

You're trying to make everyone else teach your kids right from wrong instead of YOU, the parent, teaching your kids. Really? Remove all trace of skin, all violence, all smoking, all everything from the television and movies and music because YOU can't figure out how to teach your child right from wrong? And we wonder why kids today are so...grr!

Why do you think that the Looney Tunes aren't on anymore? O no, we can't let our children see a coyote try to blow up a road runner. For most of us, our parents taught us that falling from great heights will get you injured; you'd be fucklucky if you survive a blast in the face from a rocket; and for fuck's sake, animals do not walk upright, talk, or fucking write on signs!! We understood that dead was permanent. My parents showed us the world, and that movies and cartoons were fake and there was no way that a live human couldn't do those same things without some sort of help.

Kids today baffle me. They're sheltered and told that they're the best at everything and they're perfect little princesses or princes and they get everything they want. Then when they get to the real world, shit hits the fan. They demand, and when they don't get it, they blame everyone else. You know what, you little shits, no one is perfect, and your parents lied to you when they told you that you were. Sorry, but it's the truth.

Now, before any of you go, "But Ms Dreamer, you're not qualified to say those things. You don't even have children." But I do have two eyes, and two ears, and more sense than God gave a post and even though I like to look at the world and imagine better, I can see the harshness of reality behind it all. And you're not doing anyone any favors.

Shew, LDs. Just felt like ranting a bit. Between my niece and Mr Realist's cousin (o, that's a whole other story - he's revoked her 'little sister' status because she's a rotten little bitch!) and quite a few kids I see in stores and such, I'm rather glad that we don't want or have the childrens. I'd strangle them if they acted like some of these I've seen. And I don't care how much you say "But your kids could be different," I know they would be. Cause I'd be damned sure they wouldn't act like that at home or in public.


Ok, B&M Monday over.
How was your day?
Did you get work done that you needed (I didn't)?
Or did you kick back in a hammock and sip on an icy beer all day (I didn't...and if you did, I kind of hate you right now)?

Tell your Godmother Dreamer. She'll listen and throw back a pint or two with ya.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Ms Dreamer

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Please Forgive Me

Please don't think less of me, LDs, seeing as how I haven't posted a frackin' thing in over a week!

So here I am, sitting at the kitchen table, listening to the sounds of Super Mario Bros 3 coming from the Wii, and pondering the finer points of ... well ... anything!

Mr Realist, Aunt & Uncle & Cousin Dreamer were all down at Camp last weekend (Heepwah!), and had a blast, as usual. Mumsy Dreamer and I are going down for Mother/Daughter Weekend the second weekend in October (can't wait, seeing as how Mumsy has never seen Camp. Boo.).

We were on vacation all week last week. It was a staycation since we're saving up to go to Phoenix in February to watch Brother Realist graduate from MMS (motorcycle mechanic school). Looking forward to warmth right around my birthday! We did get some things accomplished, however. Our living room has a new floor - well, new to us.

See, someone in their wrong mind put carpet in the living room. Don't get me wrong - I like the warmth it gave during the winter, and it was a really pretty blue. It would have gone beautifully with the navy curtains and the yellow walls (curtains exist, wall color is still in process). But there were a couple of rather large stains that just were not coming out. We decided that we were going to pull up a corner and see what it looked like. Much to our surprise, we found some really nice hardwood. Not laminate, but actual wood! There are a few spots that need to be filled, and there's paint splotches around the edge of the room from where they painted the walls white, but once it's sanded, cleaned, and sealed, it's going to be awesome.

Mowed and cleaned the bathroom and living room and Mr Realist cut some low-lying tree branches and played wiffle ball yesterday. Mostly, the rest of the week was much-needed relaxation.

O, Mr Realist and I celebrated our 5th anniversary as a married couple on Friday the 24th! I loves me some hubsand!

My most sincere apologies, again, for not posting for the last week. I've been in kind of a rut, and I'm determined to dig myself out!

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your 'really doesn't want to go back to work tomorrow because she will have a week's worth of shit to catch up on and doesn't want to do it. At. All.'

Ms Dreamer

PS~I've got a couple things in mind for Bitch and Moan Monday tomorrow :)

Thursday, September 16, 2010

I'm a Prankster, you're a Prankster, too.

If any of my LDs read Aunt Bex's blog, you'd understand why I'm a Prankster. She has this...thing...with John C. Mayer. So she's called upon her Merry Band of Pranksters to...

dare I say it?

PRANK someone?

Dear heavens, won't someone think of the childrenz?

While I do think JCM is...well...a douchenozzle (but I likes his voice), and we've been for-fucking-bidden to choose him as our prank, he's not the one I'm interested in.

No, that pedestal is totally reserved for one Angel.

One Luke.
One Special Agent Seeley Booth.
One Green Lantern.

O, LDs, David P. Boreanaz is at the top of my freebie list. Can you see why?

(pic borrowed from Googling David P. Boreanaz)

David P. Boreanaz (wiki) is hot, LDs Some may think it's kind of creepy that both Mumsy Dreamer and I think David P. Boreanaz (imdb) is finer than frog hair. I think it means we have good taste. :)

However, I has a little issue with Mr. David P. Boreanaz. Ya see, David P. Boreanaz cheated on his wife, and only admitted it after the woman he was sleeping with threatened to tell!

Really, David P. Boreanaz? You know what - if your wife's a lazy housewife and bad mother and drinks and does drugs and abuses you (which I can't say because, for all the love that's holy, I don't know either David P. Boreanaz or David P. Boreanaz's wife Jamie Bergman), fine. Get a divorce. Don't cheat. I want to punch David P. Boreanaz in David P. Boreanaz's balls for being a smaller-scale Tiger Woods because he was like Mary Poppins in my book ("practially perfect in every way")

Seeings as how you're working on your marriage (since we haven't seen hide nor hair of your infidelities until after the Tiger Woods/Jesse James/David P. Boreanaz debacle, I'm going to assume that your marriage is on the mend, and for that, I'm happy) (I know, I know, what the fuck am I happy for?), I'm only going to dock you five Housemate points. David P. Boreanaz will only have to spend an hour a day on David P. Boreanaz's knees, worshipping me and showering me with compliments, instead of two.

So, David P. Boreanaz fans: what are your thoughts on David P. Boreanaz's infidelity? Should David P. Boreanaz be made to run through the streets of Hollywood, buck-ass fuckin' naked (o hells yeah to the yummo), proclaiming that David P. Boreanaz is an idiot for cheating on his wife and David P. Boreanaz is glad that his wife is willing to work on the relationship.

I know I'm a bit behind the time in David P. Boreanaz's affair, but it's what docked him Housemate points. I will admit, though, the fact that he's a Steelers fan just makes David P. Boreanaz that much hotter (Mr Realist is a Steelers fan. They should meet.).

LDs, I lust after David P. Boreanaz. But I'm not going to go to LA to stalk him.

I don't know anyone who would let me stay with them.

Who's your curse? Obviously, Aunt Bex's is John C. Mayer.

And this is only to see if I can get on the front page of Google. And piss off a publicist.

I'll keep you updated.

Your David P. Boreanaz-crazy (but not in an "I'm an obsessed stalker" kind of way)

Ms Dreamer

PS - DAVID P BOREANAZ! (he he he...24 times)

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


We had some sadness in our house this evening.

LDs, when we adopted two more members into our family two years ago, I was very not ok with the idea, but Mr Realist insisted. He wanted rats. He did his research and learned about them and found a rat breeder and we bought sisters Bonnie and Sally.

Bonnie has always been the more aggressive of the two, kind of like a big sister. Sally was content to let things be as they were. They didn't bite, like Trixi did (bitch). They were relatively socialized, unless you had flavors on your fingers. :)

But within the last week, Sally has developed a breathing problem. We did some research...and ratties are susceptible to upper respiratory infections. She hasn't been eating the last couple of days and she's been wheezing. She fell from the middle level of their cage, and wasn't doing so well. Mr Realist held her, and she calmed down, but she was kind of dragging her back legs a bit. She was still moving her tail and back feet though.

Mr Realist put her back into the cage, and Bonnie curled up around her. Sally was restless. She kept moving around, and suddenly we heard a loud thud. She'd fallen from the top level where their bed was and was in the bottom of the cage.

She wasn't moving. Mr Realist picked her up, and her eyes were closed and she wasn't breathing. She never did.

We found a box, wrapped her in a towel, and she's buried out in between the small maple trees at the back of our yard.

LDs, I was not thrilled to get rats when we did.

But we're both going to miss her. Bonnie's already searching the cage for her.

I cried as I held her final resting place as Mr Realist dug the hole. He spent about ten minutes in the bathroom after we were done.

We'll miss you, Sally.


Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.

There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.

There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.

The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.

His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.

Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.

The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.


Wednesday, September 1, 2010


are a girl's best friend (so the song goes). Diamonds aren't my best friend; however, I do covet a beautiful pair of princess cut earrings.

For about the last year or so, I've been lamenting the fact that I don't have a pair of diamond earrings (I did when I got my ears pierced for the first time, but I've since lost one of the earrings...need to find the one remaining and get my cartilage pierced). They don't have to be ginormous. I'd prefer them to be about 1/3 of a carat each (so that they match my engagement ring).

Here's a funny story for you about said earrings. I'd been hinting around to Mr Realist last year for about the four months before Christmas. One day in late November, he comes to me and says "I have your big Christmas present ordered, and I know you'll love it."

O holy hells, LDs. Guess where my mind immediately pounced? Yep. Diamonds.

He teased and tormented me mercilessly until Christmas about what would be under the tree for me. Of course, I had to go snooping (right, Kisha?).

Asshat left the present at work! He told me this the weekend before Christmas because he knew I'd snoop for it. Grr.

So, anyway - Christmas morning before we go to my grandparents, he's playing Santa, doling out presents and putting others in bags for the niece and nephew (not really nephew, but we're 20 years apart) and stacking his to the side. I got several flat boxes (DVDs), a thicker box (book), and lotion and powder and a pair of silver hoop earrings that I was drooling over the week before because I didn't have a pair of small silver hoop earrings (they were like $10, so perfect for a stocking stuffer). I'd unwrapped all of my stuff.

No earrings.
But Mr Realist has a shit-eating smirk on his face.

He pulls a box from behind his back, about the size of a thick paperback. I immediately think: "He's wrapped it like another book, but they're in there, I know it."

He hands the box to me...and it's fucking heavy. Like brick heavy. So he filled it in with concrete - so what? As long as those pretty sparklies (Jeremy the Crow, anyone?) are smiling up at me, I don't care how the hell he wrapped the box.

I tear into the paper. It's a plain white box. All taped shut. I have to get out the pocketknife to cut the tape.

I open the box...

Gleaming up at me was something I had wanted for a long, long time.

It's a HiPoint 9mm firearm. Jet black, high impact polymer and steel. Made in the USA. Fits my hand perfectly.

You thought I was going to say diamonds, didn't you?

Nope. I did cry, though. We'd been talking about getting me a gun for the longest time. Mr Realist has his own 9mm and a lever-action .22 Henry rifle. I hate going shooting and having to wait for someone else to be done so I can have my turn. Now, I don't have to wait. :)

And yes, I did and DO absoballylutely love the surprise!

However, our 5th anniversary is coming up in 23 days (holy shit, it IS September!), and I'm still hoping for those sparklies.

But I'd take a shotgun.

There is a reason behind this postie, LDs. Kisha is having a giveaway on her blog. If you'd like some free sparklies, go check her out.

OR you can get them yourself at - apparently all they cost is shipping. Of course, they're not real diamonds, but they certainly look like them, and they are set in sterling silver.

And I'll take faux sparklies. As long as they look good.

Heepwah, and be safe out there

Your sparkly-lovin
Ms D
Be safe out there.