Hermine....

who I, along with every other Harry Potter fan, am just going to call Hermoine, has hit Texas - my part of Texas.
This means that every single damn channel is rain and tornadoes and sirens going off. The dogs are freaking out because of the HORNS and the TV is loud so that Pop can hear the HORNS that are going off intermittently. What he doesn't realize is that the HORNS only serve to freak the dogs out more than they already are (one already threw up).
Time for him to have a stress pill.
Dorothy
P.S. Yesterday was a wonderful day if this deal with the butterfly works out.

Dear Glenn Beck...

You and I need to talk Sir.


And, really, I mean no disrespect but there are some things of which you need to be aware.


Please quit YELLING AT ME. If I chose to watch your program then that is my choice. If my 90 year old, hard of hearing father choses to watch your program then that is his choice. However, you come on at 4:00 my time when I chose to watch Oprah who talks about, at worst, driving while using a cell phone - her stressing me over this I can handle you telling me THAT OBAMA IS RUINING THE COUNTRY AND BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD is stress that I can not handle.


Seriously, I can not handle it.


See, unlike you, my father lived through the Great Depression and he has ALWAYS told me to have a little bit of Gold hid away so I can go buy a loaf of bread when the currency fails (yes, we are an upbeat family thankyouverymuch). But now he has you and, not only does he count how many Gold commercials are on during your program, (I believe it was 8 the other day) but he then wants to discuss with me how we must GO BUY GOLD NOW BEFORE THE CURRENCY FAILS. NOW. QUICK. DRIVE ME DOROTHY NOW. Never mind that I don't have the money for said Gold (because as Natalie Green taught me on Facts of Life the symbol for Gold is "A.U. stole my Gold watch").


I even understand your writing of books. You are a millionaire and have nothing better to do but write books and scare old people WHILE YELLING AT THEM. Oddly, I am busy taking care of one of the ones that you scare to death while I am searching desperately for a stress pill for him and a Xanax for me.


I honestly must admit that I don't know your position on abortion or crime or anything but GOLD and YELLING as I have never intentionally watched your show.


However I do understand that you like Capitalism. As do I. I think it is a great thing. It has made you millions while scaring the shit (literally) out of people.


Here is where I get a little fuzzy and most Conservatives can't answer me. I can think of NOTHING (see I can yell also Mr. Beck) more Capitalistic than a female selling her body - her "God" given gifts for some money - hell I could be a high end prostitute and only accept Gold. But I am sure that you would have a problem with that as it would be immoral and wrong. I disagree. It is capitalism at its finest. Its most pure. I would simply sell (or lease) what I already have - for Gold of course.


Which, I am sure leads us into the abortion debate. I imagine (and like I said I have never intentionally watched your show nor have I read your books BECAUSE OF THE YELLING AND MY STRESS LEVEL DUE TO TAKING CARE OF A 90 YEAR OLD WHO WANTS ME TO BUY GOLD).
I am sure you are pro-life. As am I. Because, really, life? Who can argue? Go life!! Life Rocks!


However, unlike you, I am also pro-choice whereas you are anti-choice. You trust me to have a child, raise it, buy it enough gold for when OBAMA RUINS THIS COUNTRY but yet you don't trust me to decide that I am not physically/emotionally/mentally capable to have said child? Hmmm. That seems odd.


Shouldn't we get the government THAT OBAMA IS RUINING out of our lives and, therefore, out of my uterus?


Shouldn't I be intelligent to decide that I don't have the money to raise a child unless I want it to turn out to be one of those A.U. stole my Gold watch?


I have more brains than that Mr. Beck and, obviously you do also.


You have made millions scaring people because you YELL at them. I take care of one that you have scared and now he takes stress pills, oh and A.U. someone DID steal my GOLD charm bracelet which I would replace but what with your 8 commercials per hour for gold I can't afford it.


I will make a deal with you. I will run your show for an hour (where we will talk about rainbows and puppies and unicorns and nice happy things) and you can come yell at my father about BUYING GOLD NOW and you can take him and even pay for it. I'll trust you - for an hour - with my father, the person that I love most in this world even though you don't trust me with my uterus.


Sincerely,
Dorothy Mayer

The answers to all of Pop's questions...

1. It is too hot to go outside.
2. No the mail is not here yet.
3. Yes I paid that bill.
4. Yes your zipper is down.
5. Yes this is how I drive - you weren't around to teach me.
6. Yes I know smoking is going to kill me. Do you know that worrying about it is going to kill you?
7. No, I don't want to discuss Glenn Beck.
8. Yes I argue. A lot. It is because I am JUST LIKE YOU.
9. Yes I can hear you.
10. Yes they can hear you.
11. Yes I know that is still there. I have something to do with it and when you move it I lose it and it doesn't get done.
12. Yes I know I have too many clothes but you wear all of my Polo shirts so quit your bitching.
13. No I am probably not getting married.
14. Yes I enjoy trashy television.
15. BECAUSE THAT IS THE WAY THAT MAMA DID IT.

I love you. Always.

Stop, Collaborate and Listen...

Pop is a good man. Really he is. So when our car (read his) was for sale and my friend came to visit with her two small children. He gave her the car with the understanding that she would pay us back and y'all can imagine the rest of the story. Yesterday, the car was wrecked. Totalled. And although he had signed the title over to her she didn't have enough money to put it in her name yet and so I guess it was wrecked in our name.
This is a good friend and I am sure she is telling the truth when she says that she explained to the police the whole story but Pop, being Pop, is worried about this to no end. He is sure, no positive, that the person who was hit (or maybe did the hitting as I don't know) is going to go after him (meaning us) for everything since the car was technically still in his name.
After hearing this for three hours - literally - I looked at that 90 year old man and actually said "Stop, collaborate and listen."
And then when we came home I gave him a stress pill.
P.S. I don't think he knows who Vanilla Ice is and thankfully he will never find out because that man's (Vanilla Ice's, not Pop's) eyebrows alone would do him in).

Check out the shaved lines in his eyebrows.

Frustrated...

I don't know how to fully explain how my world changed when my Mama died. I was ruined. Devastated. Ready to commit suicide. Really. Had planned it out. I told some friends how depressed I was - although they knew it already. I know that people have lost children and keep going ( but I barely kept going. Only and only because of Pop did I get out of bed everyday and, as I call it, "played the game." It was really great when a "friend" suggested she would load the gun for me herself. Thanks bitch.

It seems so easy for people to judge me and what I have done but none of these people have walked in my shoes. No one I know has lost their Mama and then automatically had to be in charge of a 90 year old man. I don't think anyone ever will.

So I have to decide whether I care what people think or whether I know I am doing the best that I can and, oddly for me, that is a hard decision as I normally don't care what people think.

Would you mind wobbling it a bit??

As Pop would say "would you mind wobbling it a bit?"

This is a story that was told to him during one of the worst times of his life. He was living in Toronto, had no job, no money and was depressed to put it mildly. He was taken out to eat by a friend of his who proceeded to tell him a story which has gotten him (and also me) through some rough times:

Years and years ago a man went to a pub in England and drank and drank until he could do nothing else. This was in the days before air-conditioning and lo and behold there was a theatre (look at me using the English spelling) that was "air-cooled." Stumbling drunk he bought a ticket, went to the balcony and promptly fell asleep.

When he awoke he had to urinate something horrible so, whether it was because he was so drunk and didn't care or because he was so drunk and full of beer he couldn't make it to the bathroom he opened his zipped and "let her rip" (that would be Pop's terminology). As he was receiving great relief from his decreasing bladder he heard a voice from down below.

"I say old Chap, would you mind wobbling it a bit as I seem to be getting it all."

That is how I feel right now -so would y'all mind wobbling it a bit.

Pop's 90th birthday

Thanks,
Dorothy

Are you kidding?

This morning's conversation:

Pop - "Dorothy can you come out here and smell this. Something smells bad."

Dorothy (trying to enter Scentsy orders on the computer) - "Give me a second and I'll be right there."

I come out to the living room where he smiling. I am terrified I have to clean up dog poop. I can't smell anything so I spell some air freshener (White Tea Cactus for you Scentsy people) and come back to finish entering orders and making phone calls."

Pop walks in not smiling. "Don't worry about the smell. It's me. Did I shower yesterday?"

What in the hell have I gotten myself into?

Last night...

he came into my room wearing a wifebeater and underwear. On his head was a hat. A Shriner's hat. "Dorothy why do I have a Schriner's hat on my head? Do you know?"
"No Pop. How would I know?
"Well I found it and brought it in to show you but am I a member of the Schriner's?"
"Pop I don't really know. But I do know that if you don't wear pants no one is going to notice that you have that damn hat on."