Sunday, November 28, 2010

It's Saturday! (or is it Sunday??)

I had a huge blog typed out.

Then I remembered I'd been drinking.

So, I deleted it all.

Sorry!!

Friday, November 19, 2010

I'm Turning Into Scrooge, and I Think I Like It




Yeah, I know, some of you think that when I say "confessional" that I'm going to tell you all my dirty little secrets that run through my head. One, Husband would not be happy for sharing half of them. Two, the other half would probably land my ass in jail. So, that being said, I'm tackling my "Why I hate the Holiday season"  this week.



I confess:

  • Retail displays like this, that show up before Halloween even gets here, really piss me off.
  • I like being able to enjoy my holidays in the order they come in, thankyouverymuch!
  • I miss the days when the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade brought Santa out, and therefore, all the shopping madness that then follows.
  • I should not have to go into a store on October 20, and see all this shit. Seriously.
  • I should not go to the store on November 5th, to get all the platters for Thanksgiving and end up having to hunt down a clearance aisle in order to buy any of it.
  • Shit like this makes me want to boycott any holiday after Halloween.
  • I own my own business, and refuse to put up anything Christmas related until the day after Thanksgiving.
  • I have come to hate the whole retail side of these holidays, enough that our studio Christmas tree has been black with a skull topper on it for the past 3 years. This year will be no different.
  • I should not have to deal with other businesses cramming this down my throat 2 or 3 months in advance.
  • Christmas carols over a store's speaker system should not be allowed to play until Black Friday, if at all.
  • I also do not like the term "Black Friday". 
  • I hate the fact that since all of our money will put retailers in the "black", they decided to rub it in our faces how much money they will have, and we will no longer have.
  • I used to make fun of Husband for his hatred of this season.
  • I have now turned into just as big of Scrooge.
  • I blame all the retailers for taking away the excitement by trying to make us think of Christmas before the time change even happens.
  • I wholly believe that they move it up earlier, and earlier every year.
  • I believe that Santa should skip every single person who has brought about the 3 month holiday season.
  • I hate the fact that to get my point across of my hatred of this practice, I felt I had to put a picture up of all things Christmas BEFORE Thanksgiving is even here.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Why I haven't been here

This is just one of the reasons I have been around as much the past week!

Spent 6 hours @ the theatre last night helping paint marquee signs and backdrops.

Scentsy is also rocking, with orders coming in daily. It looks like there's going to be a lot of people getting & giving good scents for the holidays.

Studio is staying steady, though I don't think it's ever as busy as any of us would want it to be. Ten again, we could tatto for 12 hrs straight, and it probably wouldn't be enough!

Things are looking up on the kid side of things. Hopefully it will all be in court and done soon!

I'll be posting a Confessional tomorrow. Hopefully after that, I'll be back in the blogging swing of things!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Changing Up The Friday Posts




I confess:
  • I sometimes wish my ex-husband would disappear from the face of the earth.
  • I know I should feel guilty about this, but I don't.
  • In fact, since I'm confessing, I dream of the day he moves to say, Russia or Iraq.
  • I'm really not a bad person.
  • If you had to deal with someone who felt that medicating a child into submission was acceptable, you'd understand completely.
  • He has pissed me off upset me so bad this time, I can't even talk to him for fear that I will not have the will power to be civil.
  • The Ex is probably going to find this, and try and use it against me. 
  • That's his style.
  • I don't think I really care anymore.
  • I sometimes wonder WTF I was ever thinking when I ended up with him.
  • I wonder why it took me over a year to see him for what he really was.
  • I could use the excuse I was smokin' crack, but I wasn't, and even if I joke about it, he will try and use it against me.
  • He forgets I know a lot of his dirty little secrets, though.
  • In his own words, "It will all come out in the wash". 
  • I have a premonition that day is coming soon for him.
  • Husband is going to see this, and tell me again to be careful what I write.
  • I feel that TEN YEARS after I left Ex, I should be able to speak my opinions.
  • But we all know what Ex is like, so I don't.
  • I am at a point, I secretly wish Ex would find this, in the hopes it would open his eyes a little.
  • I know even if he does, it won't make a shit to him.
  • It's hard to have your eyes opened, when you think you're better than everyone.

Snow?? Seriously?

This is what I woke up to this morning. 

Considering the fact that it was supposed to be thunderstorms, it wasn't what I was expecting.

Now, whoever messed up, and sent this white crap instead of rain, please fix the screw-up.

Take this crap back up to Colorado or Wyoming. Texas doesn't want it. We appreciate the thought of moisture, but it came in the wrong form.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Hobby (Blog Gang)

As part of the Blog Gang, I'm given a topic every few weeks to write about. This time, the topic is "Hobby". I thought to myself, well, that will be easy. I can simply write about my hobby. How hard can that be? Oh, wait, I just realized that I don't think I really have a hobby. Ok, see, this is where things get tough.

I'm scatterbrained, and I really don't stick with most things long enough for them to be considered hobbies. I am easily bored, and if something new comes along that looks more interesting than what I'm in the middle of, I will try the new activity. This is not conducive to having a a hobby. Hell, there's days it's not conducive to having a job. But, we won't go there. This is supposed to be about HOBBIES, the exact OPPOSITE of a job.

This is the definition of hobby: An activity or interest pursued outside one's regular occupation and engaged in primarily for pleasure.

I create art for a living. That makes me a professional, not a hobbyist. So, check "art" and all related items off the "hobby" list.

I am addicted to wickless candles. But I sell them, so I guess that takes away any chance of adding them to that list, too.

I garden, but I always forget to water it, never get it planted on time, forget to harvest it, and that's only for about 3 months out of the year. So, this one is disqualified, as I think a hobby is supposed to be something you do year round to relax. (Not to mention REMEMBER to do!)

Oh, wait!! Reading!! I LOVE to read!! Then again, since I read so much, would that really be considered a hobby? And there are times I read that I really don't enjoy it. The book is stupid, and I'm too stubborn to put it down unfinished, or other crap like that. In all honesty, I think I treat reading more as an addiction. In my mind there is no such thing as too many books. Ok, reading is now off the list. Yes, I do it for pleasure in my off time, but seriously, I always see a "hobby" as actually DOING something. In that vein...is reading really DOING something?

Does picking on my Husband and children count? I enjoy that. Wait, I also work with Husband, so would that disqualify it as it's tied in with work? Hmmm...not sure on that one.

I cook, but not always because I want to, or because I enjoy it. There are days that cooking just isn't all that fun. I think that means it's off the list, too.

Can sex be a hobby? I enjoy it. That has to mean something, right? I do it in my off time. It relaxes me. Ok, ok....we won't go here. (But seriously, could you consider sex a hobby??)

And here I've been thinking for over a week that this one was going to be so damn easy. I'm serious y'all, I really can't think of anything that would technically be classified as a hobby, that I do on a regular enough basis. How effing effed up is that???

We'll pretend that I have so many hobbies that I just really don't know where to start. Hell, that may be true, and my brain worms just won't go away long enough for me to realize it. So, how about this - I'll make a list of things I really enjoy, and when I actually get off time, I do them:

~Fishing
~Camping
~Concerts
~Traveling
~Ghost hunting
~Gardening - when I remember to water and harvest
~Reading - do this way too much, and Husband hates how my collection takes over the bedroom
~Watching TV
~Singing along to music while I'm driving
~Driving fast, especially on curvy roads. I'm 35 and still pretend I'm a Nascar driver at times.
~Spending time with Husband
~Spending time with Kids
~Blogging - even though I'm not that good, it relaxes me, and I enjoy it, even if y'all don't enjoy reading it.

There we go - Blogging. This is what I do in my "outside work" time. This is something I enjoy. It relaxes me. I'm not a professional blogger. I do it when I need to unwind, and vent. I do it on a regular basis (for the most part). I don't make very much money at it, if any at all (it depends on the day).

Sounds like I finally found my hobby. I blog. Yay Me!! :)

Now, get out of here, and go read everyone elses stuff. I'm sure it's much more entertaining, educational, and better written!!

This Is Not A Real Post

Sorry to let y'all down, but this blogger is suffering from too much shit to do and not enough time to do it. Which in turn is leading to half my shit not getting done, and total exhaustion.

Today, it's the blog that's not getting done. I put at least one thing off each day, decided it's the blog's turn at getting left out.

Hopefully tomorrow I can grace y'all with my full attention, and tell you my wonderful adventures in fifth grade lunchroom land.

No promises, though!

However, I can promise there WILL be a guaranteed real post on Thursday! That's Blog Gang day, and I get to try and figure out which part of my life I can qualify as a "Hobby". That could be fun. I don't think I have time for hobbies....

Anywho, I took two melatonin,and miracle of all miracles, I'm actually tired before 4 a.m. If it wears off, and I get back out of bed, I'll write a real post. But only IF I end up not sleeping.

Hey, you can't blame me, sleep is a coveted commodity around here!

Monday, November 8, 2010

It's Definitely Monday

How can I tell it's a fucking Monday? I'll just give you a list, in no particular order:

~My hair wouldn't do a damn thing, and therefore looks like shit. Decided ponytail was best/easiest solution.

~I have NO will or want to put make-up on (sorry Husband)

~The only clean pair of jeans I have are full of holes. They are actually quite comfortable, but don't exactly portray a "professional" look, even in a tattoo studio. (So, I said screw it, and put on a Guns N Roses T with them...might as well travel back in time full tilt, right?)

~Potential customers are pissing me off. Especially when their little "homeboy" wants to go on that his "boy's homeboy" could do the same tattoo for like $50. ( A whopping savings of $20 if you don't count the 90% chance they will end up in the doctor's office for the side effects.) So, I got pissed, and told him to leave, and please feel free to get the hepatitis, infection filled home made tattoo.

~Everyone I've tried to call concerning the Ladies Night Out Holiday Expo to confirm booths, etc, have not answered their phones. (Why the fuck do any of you even have cell phones? It's apparent no one knows how to use them!)

~Trying to get a mint condition vintage Owen Jensen tattoo machine and rheostat appraised for insurance purposes, and can not get a straight answer out of anyone. All anyone wants to tell me is that I have a museum quality piece. (Thanks, knew that already, but REALLY need someone to put a dollar amount on this please.)

~The insurance adjustor finally showed up last Thursday afternoon, but didn't leave the right paper work, so my car is still sitting in a fucking shop a week later, and all it needs is a radiator.

~Just discovered the stuffed animal that Oldest HAD TO HAVE to give to his GF for her birthday, and cost $27 is only 6 inches tall. Would probably never have agreed to let him order it if he had told me that pertinent detail.

~The girl who called to set up an appointment for a "cool tattoo" (her words, not mine) ended up wanting TWO INITIALS added to an existing tattoo. I think I speak for most tattoo ARTISTS when I say that we do not consider letters to be a "cool tattoo".

~I have discovered that I'm missing posts from some of my favorite bloggers, and I still have yet to figure out why.

Well, you can see why this is definitely a Monday, and it's only 4:15. I can't wait to see the joys the rest of the day brings! Husband has given me permission to just go home and go back to bed. I may take him up on it.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Sometimes it pays to be the scary tattooed mommy

I normally let the kids deal with their own skirmishes when it comes to dealing with other kids.

Today, I broke that rule.

Youngest has had a kid picking on him for a couple of weeks. It's gone so far that the other kid has actually punched Youngest. Youngest didn't hit back as he thought he'd get in trouble. We explained that if you're defending yourself is not the same as starting a fight.

While we in no way promote that our children resort to violence, as most of you know, sometimes it has to be used to prevent further problems.

Anyway, now that I've done the whole backstory thing, lets get back to today.

Youngest comes in & tells me that this same bully has once again tried to start a fight with him on the way to the park. Youngest stood his ground - against 7 other boys, mind you. (Yes, I know, probably not something I'm supposed to admit being proud of, but I am.)

Anyway, one of the other boys grabbed a baseball bat, so my son grabbed his off his bike. (Probably not the smartest move, but he's tired of being bullied.) Don't worry, no actual blows were struck by either side.

Now, we're at the point that I get involved. It seems that one of the other boy's mother started yelling at my child (who is TEN), telling him he needed to leave or he was going to get his "ass beat down". (See, and y'all thought I was wrong for being proud of him for standing up for himself. How fucked up is it that this ADULT tells my kid that she's essentially gonna beat him??)

Anywho, he comes to me, tells me the story. At this point I've had it. I tell Youngest to get in the car & show me where this woman lives.

We get there, and all 7 of the little monsters are still in the front yard. As soon as I step out of the car, every single one of the start yelling, "It wasn't me, it was him" and pointing at each other. (Side note: windows are tinted, so they could not even see Youngest in the car."

I asked which was of them was Xxxx. His darling little friends ratted him out. I asked where he lived. He pointed a few blocks over. That led to the next question, who's mother came out of the house a few minutes ago. The biggest of the bunch (mind you, these kids are all 1 to 3 years older than Youngest), raises his hand. I ask where he lives. He shows me which house.

I went and knocked on the door, and asked the woman why she felt it was needed to yell at my child, and threaten him. She recognizes me, and starts apologizing, and telling me that she wasn't threatening him, she simply was trying to keep him from getting beat up. (For the record, I do not believe her, she did admit to saying what Youngest said she did. Mother of the year award right there, let me tell ya.)

At any rate, I get an apology out of her, and she apologizes to youngest. I then as her where Xxxx lives, and who his mother is. She tells me. The rest of the heathens also get told to come inside, and when I left where getting yelled at.

By this time, I've realized I know Xxxx's mother, so I stop by where she works, and explain that essentially her child is a bully, and that I have had it. I had tried to let the boys work it out on their own, but from this point forward, it will all be dealt with through the school police officers. So, she can basically either get her child under control, or I will turn it over to someone that can.

She's shaking, and admits to me that she was scared I was going to beat her ass.(Ok, now seriously.....what fucking sense does that make?? Yeah, let me come over and tell you that your son is a bully while I act just like him. Uhmmmm....no, don't think so.)

At any rate, I hear the mother of Xxxx telling the other clerk that her child has messed with the wrong kid, as he has the meanest, scariest mom in town. (I'm really not, I promise. However, if that is what you want to think, and it will get you to control your damn children, then all the better. Sometimes it pays to be the "scary tattooed mommy", I guess.)

As an end note: If the other mother EVER tells my kid he's going to get his "ass beat down" again, she may find out exactly what those three words mean. That is a promise..

And by the way, I do not look like this (yet):





Though to be honest, I think Betty Broadbent was a damn sexy woman, and I wouldn't mine looking like her at all!

I cheated

Yes, you read that right: I cheated.

On setting back the clocks that is.

I turned them back at 1:30 a.m.

Now I've got the doors locked & the windows shut tight.

That way the Daylight Savings Time police won't catch me for cheating.

This is the time change I actually love. I get an extra hours worth of sleep. (ok, not really - but I get to be proud of myself for waking up so early in the morning! And that HAS to count for something.)

Hell with it. You know what? I'm going to be daring - I'm going to crack a window. Just let them catch me setting the clocks back early!

Friday, November 5, 2010

Facebook Friend Friday

More status updates from my wonderful Facebook friends!

"fuck the stupid shit" I couldn't agree more. In fact, this may become my phrase for the next week!

"There is a level of "missing the point entirely" here that just keeps going on and on and on..." Hmmmm...we must know the same people. Either that, or they all came from the same gene pool. Scary, isn't it?

"Oh my Lord where do kids come up with things? Getting ready to brush M's hair after her bath & she says, " for $4 you can mom." I give her this look & she then says "don't give me the mad face just give me $4." I am gonna be in trouble with this girl!!!" So, you've trained a high maintenance woman already? Yay, you!!

"Trying to stay calm... But the crazy freak is back sending threatening messages and stirring up trouble... God help me..." I see you must have the same choices in men I've had in my past. It makes you wonder how in the hell any of us manage to find a decent man, with all these crazy fuckers running around!

"bout to crack a motherf**kers head open. I can't stand stupid people." I'm noticing a trend in all the statuses today. And I think I like it. In fact, I know I like it. I don't even have to put a status up today, all I have to do is hit "like" on all of yours.

I sleep in an icebox

Seriously, y'all, I really do sleep in an icebox.

I have no other way to describe the temperature Husband keeps the bedroom. Well, maybe I do. Y'all know how when some one says "When hell freezes over"? Yeah, well, our bedroom is colder than that.

I completely understand not being able to sleep in a hot, stuffy room. But really, Husband, do we have to be able to see our breath in the morning?

Let me give you an example, just so y'all will believe me when I say "freezing".

We were living in a two story house that had central heat. Our bedroom was upstairs, and while admit that yes, it did get warmer than the downstairs, it would have been easy to just turn down the heater, or shut the vents.

Hell no, Husband ran the effing AIR CONDITIONER in our bedroom window. Seriously. In the middle of efing December. When it was -10 degrees F outside. The air conditioner.

It gets worse.

One morning I woke up, and I swear to you, I could see my breath, and my nose couldn't even run cuz all the snot was frozen.

Why is that?

Because it had effing SNOWED during the night, (and was still snowing), and it was all coming in through the effing A/C. Seriously.

There was at least 6 inches of snow on the floor in front of the window. And it wasn't melting. Why? Because the damn A/C was ON. Not only on, but on HIGH.

THAT is what Husband considers acceptable sleeping temperature.

I, however, feel that if that was acceptable, I would be living in Alaska. I'm not. I live in Texas. Where it's relatively warm. I like it that way.

(Yes, dear, I know you're going to read this, and yes, I know you will use the excuse "But we cuddled a lot that winter." And you're right, we did - BECAUSE YOU HAD THE EFFING A/C ON IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER!! It's ok, I still love you. You're just not allowed near the A/C this winter. Agreed?)

Thursday, November 4, 2010

I want someone to explain this to me, seriously.

Anyone who has read my first few posts, or looked at my profile knows that Husband and I make our living putting art on other people's bodies. (For those who can't figure that out: we are tattoo artists.)

However, just because we put art on human skin, to make our living does, not mean that we are not artists in the "normal" concept, too. Both of us paint on canvas and have started a new ceramic sugar skull project (which is going quite well, and selling nicely, thank you very much.) Husband airbrushes - canvas, cars, trucks, motorcycles, t-shirts, bowling pins, murals, cheerleader megaphones.....well you get the idea. I do folk art style painting on reclaimed wood - fish, houses, farms, etc.

We have both sold our art online and out of the studio to collectors all over the U.S. (Yes, really. While I may not ever achieve the level of Van Gogh or Picasso, hopefully I will never go batshit crazy, have numerous mistresses, or cut off my own ear either.)

Anyway, now that we've covered all of that, here is what is pissing me off:

We have an Art Center in Smalltown. They showcase local and area artists, and put on shows for them. At different times of the year, they do things like ask local artists to paint on certain objects, that they then auction off to support local causes. This is all fine and great, I know.

However, when you have a fucking studio IN YOUR TOWN that does nothing but produce art ALL DAY LONG, wouldn't it make sense to say, maybe approach these people on getting involved in some of your projects? Makes sense to me anyway.

Unfortunately, due to the fact the we must be some kind of scary looking, bad influence type people for daring to have art ON OUR BODIES, the Art Center doesn't seem to feel this way. The only thing they ever ask us for are $$ donations every year so that we can be "members" of their little association.

What does this $ get us, you may ask? It's quite simple, we get postcards every month telling us what artist they are showcasing at this time, and fliers offering art classes in things such as wood carving, or how to construct a sculpture out of packing peanuts. (Ok, the packing peanut thing may not be true, but it sounds like something they might do.)

It's amazing, I sell my art all over the U.S., as does Husband, yet due to the fact that we do something so fucking horrible as tattoos, we aren't considered "artists" who are capable of putting on a show at the local art place.

And when it comes time to do those special little auction-off-for-a-good-cause items? Yeah, we're not asked to do those either. In fact, they would rather ask the guys who paint cars at the body shop to do it.

How fucked up is that?

We've even approached them about it, and offered that they could auction off some of our paintings or other art to help fund the center, or for one of the causes, in exchange for letting us display our art up there for even a weekend. You would have thought we'd ask to shit on their doorsteps from the reactions we get. They have come up with so many excuses, I don't even have the time to type them all out.

That's ok, though. I'll continue to paint, as will Husband, and we'll continue to sell our stuff outside of Smalltown. And then, when we become millionaires, I'll tell the Art Center to kiss my ass when they want a sizable donation. Sounds good to me, anyway!

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Look, I did it!

Just something I painted in the past week.

Here's to hoping this means I'll start painting more again.

Fighting with my insurance company, Day 3.

Called and left messages with all the people who were stupid enough to answer their phones yesterday, when I called. They've figured out I'm not a nice person anymore, and now send me to voicemail.

No phone calls back.

Husband calls, gets live person, gets told that adjuster was at mechanic's today. Called mechanic, find out that adjuster must be invisible, as he has not been seen in shop today. Husband tells live person that there was no adjuster at mechanic's today. Live person has no response. Husband gets mad, tells live person that adjuster better be here today, or maybe live person needs to hire new adjuster that will actually do their job.

Decide that Progressive not only hires morons, they also hire liars, too.

The whole "Immediate Response Vehicle" thing that Progressive promises is really eating at me. Decide to Google it. This is directly from the Progressive website:



"Progressive uses Immediate Response® Vehicles (IRVs) — those white SUVs with the Progressive logo on the side — to give your car insurance claim a head start. Have not seen a single one of these since I reported the claim, so I don't see this as a head start. If your vehicle is involved in an accident, our claims representatives use IRVs to travel to repair shops, tow yards, your house — even the scene of an accident — to inspect your vehicle and write a damage estimate.Are you seriously going to effing tell me that you will go to the scene of the accident?? I can't even get you to go to the damn mechanic's shop. So, when you go to the scene of an accident, do you make them wait 3 days or more so that you can get pictures of all that has happened? If so, I really hope that no one was injured, as I'm sure they are quite dead by now.


IRV drivers are trained claims professionals who can resolve your claim efficiently. Bullshit. They discuss the accident with you, record all relevant information, take pictures of the scene, talk to witnesses and catalog damages to all vehicles. Again, bullshit. I have yet to be able to actually talk to anyone about this and give them details. Instead I am bounced all around, and I have had to leave voicemails all over the place, in hopes that someone will take pity on me and CALL ME BACK.  All this starts as soon as you report your claim.*cough* bullshit *cough*
Since 1994, Progressive IRVs have helped change car insurance. With one call to Progressive, you get fast, friendly claims service — wherever you are." Well, if ignoring your customers, taking a week to do an "immediate" response, pissing your customers off, and hiring liars to drive the IRVs were the changes you were after, you accomplished your goal. If this was not your goal, then I don't know what to tell you.

Decide that Progressive is not only hires morons and liars, they also falsely advertise their services.

Wish that the claim would hurry up and just get done, so that I can switch insurance companies. 

Realize all that I am not able to do without a car, and start getting pissed off all over again. I can't go to the grocery store, I can't make Scentsy deliveries, I can't drop fliers off for Ladies Night Out Holiday Expo to advertise, I can't run kids where they need to be. It is also getting quite cold here at night, so walking in the dark and the cold is really sucking.

Yes, I can hear you ask now, "You mean you and Husband only have one vehicle?"

The answer is no, we have 3 cars and 2 motorcycles. Car #1 is waiting on invisible adjuster. Car #2 I loaned to my niece who has a one year old baby and shouldn't be walking in the dark and the cold, and I can't bring myself to tell her that I need the car back. Car #3 is a project car for Husband and Boys, and is not legal to drive at this time. Motorcycle #1 does run, and is legal, but it's effing cold, and have you ever tried to fit FOUR people on a motorcycle? Motorcycle #2 is not tagged, as I do not have a motorcycle endorsement at this time.

Googled "Progressive Sucks" and found this on flickr:



At least now I know I'm not the only one with this opinion!

Are you f*cking serious?

Dear Auto Insurance Company,

You have had my business for 6 years. After today, I do not see us making it to our 7th anniversary.

You advertise Instant Response Vehicles. You lie.

Instant does NOT fucking equal 4-5 DAYS after I make a claim. I could see a few hours, maybe even a day. But 4-5? Are you fucking kidding me?

I have NO CAR TO DRIVE. Which part of this in our 15 phone calls do you not understand? And to tell me - well, just drive to the rental place and pick up a rental car MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. If I could DRIVE there, why the hell would I even need a rental car??

Yes, I realize that I could just tell the shop to make the repairs, but then by the time you "instant response" adjustor got his ass down here, there would be nothing for him to adjust. And since I pay you such a nice lovely sum of money each month, I really can't afford to repair this on my own.

Sincerely,

The Bitch You Have Pissed Off For The Last Time

P.S. - please tell that idiot supervisor that if I had a family member or friend to borrow a car from, I would have already done so. It's right up there with his suggestion to drive the 46 miles to the nearest car rental place. Maybe you should consider giving IQ tests to future employees, especially if you're going to give them the title of Supervisor. Just a thought.

P.P.S. - I'll make sure and tell my next insurance company to send you a thank you card for sending me their way!


(to everyone in Blog Land - yes, the car that is cursed has struck again. Or I should say that little Mr. Rabbit caused more problems than I could have imagined!)