Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Tit For Tat

Yes, I read the response on Al Sharpton Lite's blog. To call it a blog is a bit of a stretch because it's on MySpace. Really? Does anyone of relevance even use MySpace anymore? Sure, I have one, and I may log in once every quarter for no particular reason.

But I digress...

Anyway, here is his ridiculous response to my tirade yesterday (I didn't edit for spelling and grammar...sorry):

I let the public hear what reporters & cops do unguarded.
Never did I mention race. Only those caught up in the tape and people from the
suburbs mentions race. They try to defend the people on the tape by saying that
people cope with bad thing with humor. I never said anyone did anything wrong.
However, if those murder victims were my relatives I would not have liked the
tone of the way these two professionals were acting. I hear about crimes &
get letters from killers who tell me in great detail how they kill people. I
don't joke about it. I blog about all crimes in the KC area. I have even solved
some crimes of people of various races. I just want to stop the violence.
Although, it is clear to me that this city cares less about the victims of from
certain areas. I can't imagine the tone of the cop & the repoter being this
way during the Kelsey Smith case. In fact I would put money on it. All the
people making judgements are defending their point of view. I never sad anything
about race. Listen to this blogger here. She attackes me for letting the public
hear the truth. I would not want cops & reporters flirting with each other
at anyone's crime scene. They should be doing their damn jobs only. This blogger
has never stepped out into to any community to make a difference. I bet you this
tape will change somethings. You see, I have the power to do that. People get
jealous of me for that reason. Say, what you will. When I am on TV things
happen. I don't just show up march, pray & leave. People hate that. People
can't handle the truth like this blogger.


And therefore, I'm not going to argue the finer points of Al Sharpton Lite's humble post, because at the end of the day, I still feel good about what I do and that I don't need letters and accolades to know that I make a difference, his neighbors will still be laughing at him, and Alonzo Washington is still a giant douche.

I guess I should thank him. I got a whole five more hits today on my blog!!

Meanwhile, I will just hole myself up on my house, stewing in my big vat of jealousy...and laughing my ass off.

Nurse Follies: Our Defense Mechanisms

Tony of TKC posted a video of local activist and KC's very own fame whore, Alonzo "Al Sharpton Lite" Washington doing what he likes to do best...incite racism where there is none.

In a nutshell, he plays an audio recording between a police officer and a reporter at a homicide scene. The tone is jovial, light, one could say there are flirtatious undertones between the officer and the reporter.

I can't speculate on the reporter because she was more than likely trying to fish a hot angle for her story by acting more news model than news reporter. Instead, I'm going to offer defense to the officer for being so light about the situation. Alonzo speculates that the tone would be more somber had the crime been committed in a more affluent (i.e. white) neighborhood.

I'm here to say with authority, that it would have made zero difference.

Police came upon a scene with three dead adults, and one dead child. All were murdered. Now, I've never had to come into a murder scene, but I have been engaged in situations with dying patients that evolved in such a matter that doesn't constitute a "normal death process". To be more specific, exsanguination. I've also had the misfortune of seeing a child die during my nursing school rotation. I'm here to tell you, both things can leave someone scarred forever if they have no good way of coping with it.

A lot of times, we use humor to do it. Okay, so it's not your average David Letterman humor. Hell, it's not even humor no comic would dare touch. It's dark. It's dry. It puts our minds in a safe place so we don't go insane with the reality that screams, "OH MY GOD, AM I REALLY SEEING THIS! IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?? JESUS, HOW CAN I STOP IT? I CAN'T STOP IT!!"

From the outside looking in, an observer may think people like us as cold, callous, uncaring, but the truth is that we need our tools for coping so we don't go home and put a gun to our heads later. Sadly, not everyone who works in health care, law enforcement, first responders has developed these defense mechanisms. They either hit burnout and suffer a breakdown, harm themselves, or adopt a nasty addiction.

So, this cops flirts. Big deal. I'm sure it was a much welcome distraction from the fact that he had just seen a murdered 3 year old and 3 murdered adults. These are the things that stay with you, much like the face of that dead child from my nursing school days stays with me so many years after the fact.

We need to disassociate or we go insane.

In conclusion, Alonzo can just shut his pie hole about something he clearly knows nothing about and go back to what he does best: looking like a cheesey douche nozzle in front of a camera.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Gosh, It's Hot

I don't know how you mens deal with it. You're junk all on the outside of your body, getting sweaty and smelly and sticking to your taint. I bet it smells so bad, paint peels off the bathroom walls everytime you have to go.

That must suck.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


I've been watching and reading everything on what's going on in Iran.

This...I just can't wrap my mind around it.

Very few things haunt me. This video is one of them.

My heart...

This just doesn't make sense...

I just can't...

She was sixteen...

Her father by her side...


Thursday, June 11, 2009

The New Face of Shysters

Brother & Co have resumed their search for a home. They moved into a house this spring, with the intent to buy. The house was cheap, needed some work done, but otherwise appeared to be a good deal. The old bat who owned the home, was asking one price, and Brother was fine with it. Until the house was appraised for 30K less than the asking price. Brother & Co. told the owner that they would not pay what she was asking, as no bank would finance a house for 30K more than it was worth, and they resubmitted an offer that was more in accordance with the house's value.

The old bat blanched, stated she was not going to come down on the price. However, she was magnanimous enough to offer to finance whatever the bank would not on a ten year note.

Brother & Co politely declined and said they would find a different house, to which the old coont said she would just sell the house to someone who couldn't get financing through a bank, so she could get what she wanted for the house.

It's always heartwarming to know that there are people out there who will fuck over the less fortunate the first chance they get. I can only hope that people like this die a slow painful death at the hands of the most incompetent medical staff on the planet.

Anyway, Brother & Co. resume their search, and look at a couple foreclosures. In doing so, they have become well versed in the shark-infested waters that is known as Foreclosure Real Estate.

There are reputable Realtors out there. Like the one I used. Then, there are those Realtors who only deal in foreclosures. Reputable agents refer to these people as "bone collectors" or as I like to refer to them as "the ambulance chasers of the real estate market". They collect foreclosures like Paris Hilton collects STDs, then they play buyers, in hopes of squeezing every last dime out of them. Brother & Co. have had one bad experience with a foreclosure, and one with a short-listing, which is five seconds from becoming a foreclosure. These agents are nice, until they know you have a brain and can do you own homework. In fact, any of the offers they get, I'm fairly confident they don't submit to the bank until they get the offer that will garner them the most money. Brother's agent contacted one bank after not hearing anything from the other agent for an extended period of time, only to have that agent finally call and angrily berate them for "going over my head."

Some people, like the nasty old coont that owns the house Brother currently lives in, is still under the impression that they can get old market prices for their homes. The housing market is an entirely different animal. In fact, my house was just assessed at 30K less than it was 3 years ago...for a grand savings of $89 on my taxes. Bastards.

So, while Brother & Co. continue their search for their dream home, pre-certified letter for financing in hand, they are learning that this isn't a buyers market like they were told, but are at the hands of unscrupulous agents who are only out for themselves.

Meanwhile, they have to be out of their house by the end of June. At that point, they will be guests at Casa de Blather for a short spell until they do find a house that they won't get hung out to dry on. Three adults (one pregnant), 1 toddler, 1 cat and 4 dogs. I don't mind them staying. It beats having them being bled dry by the Wicked Witch of Raytown i.e. their current landlady.

Good thing I have a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Taking One for the Team

This year, I signed up to do Corporate Challenge. For those of you who don't know what this is, it is a two month event where companies compete in various events for points. I think the winner gets bragging rights, but who really gives a shit when you're standing around the water cooler with the guy who won the ping pong event?

Anyway, I signed up to do shot put. It was a new event, added this year. I used to do shot in high school. I used to be good at it. Besides, how many women would want to do this?

Hah! Only about every other employed person with a vagina who works in Kansas City, that's who!

Funny enough, my mom's company volunteered her to do shot put for her company. She, having never thrown one in her life, would be participating.

The day of the event, we drive to BFE Johnson County, where it seems like there is a hundred women who are going to do the same event. Just from overhearing conversations, I was able to surmise that most of these women threw in high school as well.

Ahhh, a chance to relive our glory days!!

They provided shot puts for us to use, but one woman brought her own. It left me to wonder, who the hell owns their own shot put????

Before I throw, the guy with the clipboard asks me what company I work for. I'm speechless for a moment because my company has decided the use the largest emblem possible on the front of my t-shirt, as showcased by my generous mammary endowment.

My knee was killing me, so I threw like shit, not able to do a proper approach. It didn't matter, because this Amazon woman shows up and lobs the damn thing halfway across the field.

Game over.

I overheard her tell someone that she was 35, and had been throwing since she was 9. Some girls play with dolls, others play with 8.5lb balls. Seriously. Maybe she should have been the one to show up with her own shot put.

Next year, I'm not going to throw. I've decided to try pool. Mom's got a pool table, and I have all year to hone in my skillz. Maybe by then, corporate challenge with add a crochet event. I'd totally clean house with that.

New Roomie!

I'm still breathing. I haven't fallen off the planet. Just so you know and in case you were wondering.

Since the exodus of Brother and Hank, Sam has been rather bored. I always knew I was going to get a second dog, but I waited for the situation to fall in my lap. I looked on Petfinder and nothing seemed to compel me. A coworker was going to give me her boxer, but her sons found out and quickly organized a protest, which was successful. I figured that would happen...there's something about boys and their dogs.

So, it was the circular at work that an ad caught my eye. Free puppies. Mom was a golden retriever. Dad was, who knows. I sent an email to the owner, and a week later, she got back to me. One five month old puppy left.

The next day, I met the owner halfway (she came from the west). In her truck, there was a shivering black puppy. Her first car ride ever, she was scared shitless. Having brought Sam, we introduced the two, and there was no bloodshed. So, I took her home.

Mom named her Lucy.

Because she was from a farm, and had basically been an outdoor dog since birth, she was covered in ticks, smelled like a cow turd, and extremely shy to people. I immediately bathed her, pulled most of the seed ticks off, and she spent the night in a new kennel.

I didn't bother her for the first couple days. She mostly followed Sam around, but ran away from me. With time, she figured out what her name was. Understood that I was friendly. The housebreaking and the crate training are coming along slowly. One night, she managed to take a big crap in her kennel and roll around in it. The smell permeated the house when I got home from work. That morning, I sprayed her off with the garden hose and used a whole can of Febreeze on the house.

Lucy apparently doesn't like my decorating, because she moves things around the house. I'll find things from the living room moved to the bathroom. Stuff from my bedroom moved to my office. Food and water bowl moved to the bathroom. She particularly loves to scatter my dirty laundry all over the house.

She also likes to sneak on the couch and make herself at home when I'm not looking..

I took her to the vet yesterday, and she weighs 2lbs less than Sam. I told the vet that I didn't know what the breed of the father was. Judging by some of her characteristics (like dual dewclaws in the back), the vet figured her dad to be a Newfoundland. As in LARGE-ASSED DOG!!


After a week of having her, she has warmed up to me. She doesn't run from me, unless she has something in her mouth that she knows she shouldn't have. Sam is now playing with her. She's a sweet girl, and will fit into the family just fine.