Archive for the The Soapbox Category

Pizza & Beer

Posted in Bored out of my friggin mind, Fat Ass, The Soapbox on December 14, 2010 by catscratch

I’ve spent the last couple of years not writing and gaining weight. Shit happens. 

I’ve done a lot of self-analyzing and a lot of wondering.  It seems like I do that on a daily basis. 

I went under the assumption that when one reaches four/tenths of a century in age, one would have a clue as to who one really is… not…

So, all this means that I’ve figured it out.  You Know You Need To Put Down the Pizza & Beer When…

 1.Your belly juts out farther than your saggin boobs do…

2. You have fat pooches blobbin out in all the wrong places…

3. When you’re sittin on the couch and you’re restin your arms on your gut…

4. you wear leggings you look like a cream puff with legs…

5. there’s a fat roll resting snuggly against your neck & you can’t even think where to start in looking for your cheekbones…

6. you spend your time avoiding Kodak moments but if & when the shutter bug does find you, you run to find something or someone to stand behind…

7. you have to adjust your fat rolls in order to sit any kind of comfortable… and sitting like a lady???  No…

8. you have the desire, but not the breath or energy, to sing a Go-Go’s song on the karaoke anymore…

9. the inkling of a thought of dancing to a song you could dance too even just a few short years ago makes your chest start to hurt…911… hello…

10. you have a whole trunk load of clothes you bought the last time you shrank… only problem is that you gave all your fat clothes away… Doh!

BBQ, Parmesan & Fire Sauce

Posted in Asshats, Diva's Bitchin, Lame and stupid crap, sucky customer service, The Soapbox, you are a psycho on August 14, 2008 by catscratch

What in the hell is with the people who run fast food??? 

I started thinking about how friggin tight that fast food places are with condoms condiments. 

Why would I be thinking of such a frivolous and tedious thing?

Well, today I wandered around this huge mecca that is Oak Ridge, Tennessee in a quest to forage something for lunch.

I was a tad early and was actually out during lunch rush, so every place on my route was totally jam packed and not worth the wait.

I ended up at Chick-Fil-A (one of my most favoritest places and a close runner up to Taco Hell).

Well, I ordered my regular.  Kids Chicken Nugget Meal w/a Large Diet Coke.

This renders just enough deep fried goodness to get me through until I go home and make dinner for the ingrates family.

Anyhoo.  I know that I’m demanding and that it’s alot to ask, but WHY OH WHY must I beg for that one extra little container of BBQ sauce? 

Is it fucking gold? 

I. Think. Not.

I dip my yummy criss-cross fries in it.  I dip the little deep-fried nuggets in it.  Hell, I’d dip my straw in it and drink it.


But, the old broad who is the guardian of the sauce packets was hoarding them.

Old Broad:  “Any sauces today?”

Me:  “Extra BBQ, please.”  (Note I was being sweet. I said PLEASE).

Old Broad threw 2 in my bag of deep fried goodness and turned around to walk away.

Me:  “Ma’am?  Does 2 mean you gave me one extra?”

Old Broad: “Our policy is 2 sauces for a kids meal.”  She smiled sweetly.

Me:  “Then can I have 2 more?”

Old Broad:  Slings one more in the bag with an annoyed look on her face.

Me:  Standing there staring at her.  At this point it was principle.

Old Broad:  Slung one more in the bag and asked, “Would you like a manager?”

Me:  “No. You finally gave me my sauce.  Have a great desert day.”

Then I started thinking (dangerous).  Taco Hell is greedy, too.  This is true, straight from a manager at Taco Hell… “It’s our policy to give 1 packet of mild, hot or fire sauce per item unless a customer specifically asks for more.”

WTF is up with fast food policies???? 

As much as they charge for a fucking taco nowdays, I should be able to have a case of that shit with every order as our orders are usually huge due to the kids and all of their friends.

Anyways, for spite, after going through drive through and getting an ungodly amount of crap asked for lots of sauce.  I’m talking like 30 tacos and 15 burritos and other random items.  The dude gave us 10 packets.  He counted them out.  Prick.

Did I ask for extra?  Yes. 

Did I get extra?  Fuck no.

So, I decided to be a total bitch (surprising, eh?). 

I parked the car.  Emptied one of the small bags into one of the other bags.   I took the freshly emptied bag and walked into the Taco Hell lobby.   I grabbed every pack of mild sauce that I could shove into that bag and walked out.   The kid at the counter just stood there with his mouth open.So now. At least when I go to Taco Hell, we don’t have to ask for any sauce at all.

Well, until we run out.

Other places that are tightwads:

Fazolis: tight with parmesan cheese and crushed red pepper.

Booger King: totally tight with ketchup.

Harvest Buffet:  totally tight with the fortune cookies… the dicks.

Ever have any fast food annoyances of your own?  Please share.


My daughter sent me this picture of Lil T.  He’s such a friggin ham.

Oh yah.  Go see my picture blog.  I’m shameless when it comes to self promo.

Poopie Diapers, Baby Barf & Formula

Posted in Asshats, Diva's little public service notices, Here's Some Philosophy, Lame and stupid crap, sex, skanks, sperm and sperm donations, teenagers, The Soapbox, you are a psycho on July 2, 2008 by catscratch

An open letter to the stupid little girls at Gloucester High School in Gloucester, Mass.

Dear Soon-to-be Teenage Moms of Gloucester High,

Question.  Have you lost your ever loving little minds?

Question.  What the fuck were you thinking making a pregnancy pact?

Question.  Did you even consider for one second what this will do to the rest of your family?


It’s not cute.  It’s the absolute stupidest thing I have ever in my life heard.

Being pregnant is only the beginning of this.  Sure, you’ll all wear maternity clothes and think you’re so cute.

Then there’s labor.  Have fun with that. 

Do you realize what happens when you give birth?

Not only does an object as big as a bowling ball come out your va-jay-jay, no.

Then the fun starts, ladies. 

Yes, oh, yes.  Fun, fun, fun.

Trust me here.  I became a lovely teen mom at the ripe old age of 15.

So, this is experience talking.

How do you plan to pay for formula, diapers, A & D ointment, bottles, wipes, clothes… all the things your child will need?

Do you plan to finish school or be drop-outs and go on welfare so that all of you can just sit at the park and let your little dirt monkies run around wild while you collect a check and the rest of us pay for them?

Do you really expect this to be a great time?  There will be snotty noses, sleepless nights, shitty diapers, uncontolled crying fits… and that’s just when they are little.

Then they grow up to be intellegent like you and they sass, backtalk, get on drugs, get pregnant.

Want to go out with your friends? Good luck with that.  You have a kid now.

Just because people like Jamie Lynn Spears did it??  At least she has the money to pay for a nanny.

It’s not like in the movies. 

A young girl I know just had a baby, luckily she graduated first.  She’s 17.

Did she think her life was going to change?   Not so much.   Did it change?  Oh hell yes it did.

She can’t just pick up and go to the amusement or water park anymore.

She can’t just go to the movies anymore.

Not only do you have to find a babysitter, but you also have to have the money.

Her money is now spent on diapers and clothes and formula.

Unfortunately, your school is not the only school playing this little game.

It’s an epidemic of sorts.

The above mentioned young lady, she said that it happened at her school too.   My old school.  22 pregnancies in one year.

I wish you all the best in your life.  I hope you don’t drop out, and I hope you are able to make something of yourself.

Me, I struggled to raise my daughter.  I didn’t have a social life.    I was 30 years old before I was able to enroll in college and finish.

Life isn’t over, girls, but it’s gonna be a long row to hoe.

Heathens, Hypocrites & Halos

Posted in Diva's little public service notices, life in my house, Religion, The Soapbox on June 29, 2008 by catscratch

A good friend of mine in here on Blogger’s Lane, The Warped Mind of Ron, did a post on Religion. 

Yah, yah, yah.  It’s not ethical to talk politics or religion…

Oh wait, that was what they told us not to discuss with clients when I was in beauty school…  but this es mi casa on Blogger’s Lane and I can be as unethical as I wanna be, huh?

Ron’s post basically stated that he beleives in a higher power and:

“In the end an act of good committed in the name of any deity is still an act of good and an act of evil committed in the name of any deity is still evil. It’s not the label you chose wear it’s the choices you make in life.”

I couldn’t agree more with that statement.  Just because I don’t actively participate in church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in a higher power.

Which brings me to my subject at hand…. heathens, hypocrites & halos.

I suppose I would be classified as a heathen. 

Websters says a heathen is an uncivilized or irreligious person.  That’s me.  

I suppose I could qualify as civilized easy enough, I don’t fart or burp in public.   Nor do I chew with my mouth gaping open or talk when my mouth is full.  In short, my Mama done taught me some manners.

With regard to religion though… no thank you.  You can keep it.  I am old enough to decide for myself that church ain’t my cuppa joe.  Don’t get me wrong.   I may be a heathen.  I may not go to church.  I may smoke and I may drink. 

And God knows, I’m catty.  Not a gossip or a hater… just catty.

That in mind, I do know right from wrong.  I know the commandments.  I live my life and I do good by others.  If I see someone who needs help, I help.  If someone needs a shoulder or an ear, hey, here I am. 

I do unto others as I would hope they would do for me. I will get my halo. 

I’m not sitting in church, pretending that I am at least as Holy as Jesus himself and then going out gossiping or closet drinking or cheating on my spouse… all along acting the good part.

All my years growing up (until I was 17 and made my escape), I was forced into church/religion.  Pew jumpin, Bible pounding, fire and brimstone Southern Baptist upbringing. 

I actually enjoyed the social side of church until I was around 14 since the youth group was always doing something super cool. 

It wasn’t so bad until we moved to Tennessee.  Right smack in the heart of the Bible Belt.

Maybe the pastor was sincere in his teachings.  He knew scripture well enough to know every single passage about tithing and giving and yelled enough to keep a the dozing types awake… and the congregation….

This is where we get to **hypocrites….

I have never been around so many people who were there for the fashion show and the social hour rather than for the learning of the Word.

My aunt is a socialite and a big time mover and shaker in this congregation.  She is there to be seen.  She holds social functions at her huge house to be noticed.  She does this not so much because she wants to open her home up to share, but she wants to be sure that all the other hens in the coop are certain to be ranting and raving for days, nay, weeks about her, her house, her clothes, her perfect family.

These women gossip about each other.  Tell each other’s secrets and are meaner than the biggest asshat I know.  They fuss and fight over who will be sitting at the pastor’s table at the next pot-luck.

The pastor himself is trying to build a mini empire.  HUGE church, HUGE school, HUGE college.  More like a huge gated cult for social climbers.

What gets me is this.  These so-called Christians, who are called by God to spread his word, wouldn’t piss on someone who was on fire if they were from outside of the bubbled in social circle. 

I know this pastor and was a loyal (forced, but loyal) attendee.  He knew me and he knows my extended family very well (snooty auntie).   As does his wife. 

But, if you pass them at the grocery store or any other place, they will look up, take note that you aren’t in their social circle, and look away so as not to have to speak.

That my friends is hypocracy.  If you preach it or listen to it and act like you believe it, you should live it…. not just act like it.

**Disclaimer.  I do not think all good, clean-living church folk are hypocrites.  Nor do I believe all Pastors are in it for the money.

I’m just giving an account of why I choose not to do “religion”.