Fulfillment by Amazon, Computer Desk Things That Close Up, and Bindis

I've just wasted the better part of my life searching for something you think would be so obvious, but it's not.

Ever asked yourself whether or not you must be a Pro Merchant with Amazon to use their FBA (Fulfillment by Amazon) services?

Okay, so you probably haven't but I did.  And with Amazon being such a got-it-together business, you'd think you could easily find the easy.

Think again.

I'll save you the long drawn out story, but the answer is this (for anyone who Googles the question only to get run around answers):  YES, You MUST be a Pro Merchant to use Fulfillment by Amazon.   You cannot be a hit-or-miss, lazy seller like me - we are stuck with either selling on eBay or doing it ourselves on Amazon.

Sucks, huh?

Speaking of selling...maybe you've been following along with our home renovation project - probably not but, hey, I got the keywords in there that might snag me a couple more sponsors - but we're ditching a lot of stuff.

One of the things we've got to unload is a computer desk that closes up.  You know, a computer armoire.  Sounds just a little to fancy for something coming out of my house, which is why I want to list it as "Computer Armoire Desk That Closes Up."  I figure since I'm selling this thing on a local basis where it's PICK UP ONLY (I'm too lazy to ship something small sold on Amazon, so does this really surprise you?), my fellow hicks will understand what I'm saying - may even be searching those terms.

I just don't see many of us country folks seeking out computer armoires.  Dang, even I didn't look at what it was called.  I just walked in, looked at it and said, "Yep, that's what I'm looking for."    

And speaking of "looking for" leads to "looking at" which could be defined by this big freakin' zit thing that's happened right in the middle of my forehead.  It's looks like a bindi - which I had to Google the phrase "Indian women red dot on forehead named" to learn the proper name.

Hillbilly search phrases...ha!  There's a blog post.  Maybe for next week's Random Thoughts Tuesday - which, by the way, you need to check out at http://www.theunmom.com/.

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Oatmeal Hazes and Water Wasting

There will be no photos today.

I don't feel like pulling one off the camera. Don't even feel like finding a substitute to go along with my random thoughts today.

I had taken one this morning that I'll call "Living in an Oatmeal Haze."

My pediatrician told me that I have to stop being a Type A personality and allow Princess A to start feeding herself with a spoon.

That's easy for doc to say, he's not here to clean up the mess.

And after three other children, plenty of messes (x3, remember!), I don't wanna do it anymore and would rather just feed her myself.

But FINE, I did. And she loves it.

She loves to put some in her mouth. But most goes in her hair, her nose, her ears, or any other little place she can find to put it.

Ugh! This equates to two baths a day.

Why two? Well, I'm kind of a stickler for being showered BEFORE you crawl into bed.

In my house, if you like showers first thing of a morning, that's cool...but you'll be on a two shower a day schedule. (Which is probably one less than should be MANDATORY for teenage boys.)

Yes, I know. That's a lot of water and I should try harder to be more conservative.

I do, but that is one area I will not budge.

Well, I'm tired of writing. That's my Random Thoughts for this Tuesday. Catch ya next week.

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I Know I Am Mean but What Are You?

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up and say "Screw It!"  Well, that's where I'm at today.

Somebody on Facebook had the audicity to bring up healthcare again today.  Making the mistake of defending Obamacare.  And, since it's my "off" day, I can't even conjure up a good snarky reply.

And speaking of Facebook, ever noticed how that's like a bad trip back to high school?  For the most part, I enjoy it but some people still have a lot of growing up to do.

On the topic of growing up...my oldest is now 18 and somehow he's convinced that this age is the magical age where suddenly you no longer need parental guidance.


I explained to him that while the law says he may be old enough to smoke cigarettes and join the military, he's not old enough to do as he pleases while living IN MY HOME.   When  I invited him to get his own place where he pays his own bills and could set his own rules, he suddenly realized that parental guidance can come in the form of parental (financial) support.

Which then leads me to thoughts of stupid people who think you're also stupid.  Of course, in their minds, they aren't stupid just think you are.

But they get so peeved when you point out their stupidity to them.  And I love it when they follow up with how you're not Christian like because your judgmental and crap. 

Seriously?  You're backed into a corner BY YOUR OWN STUPIDITY and that's when you decided to come out swinging Jesus?

I'm starting to think I'm a little too mean today.  And that would make me one of those Mean Girl Mom Bloggers that's been making the news lately.  

Somehow there is a misconception that Mom equates to Nice.  Now I'm not sure who raised them, but that word could not always be associated with my mother.   Don't get me wrong, she's a wonderful person but, when I was young, her first job was to make sure I grew up to be a decent human being which meant beating the devil out of me when I did something wrong.

It worked, but I sure didn't see it as Nice.

But in this panty-waisted society we're living in now, you gotta be a June Cleaver.  You can't have a bad day or you're a "Mean Girl."

Ugh, I'm going back into my cave where no one expects me to play  nice.

Got Random Tuesday Thoughts?  Share them at The Unmom!

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Nonmowing Neighbors. Curtain Climbers. Spring.

Well, it's time for some random thinking again...and, boy, am I in the mood for that today!

My neighbor is FINALLY getting his yard mowed.  Now that may not seem like a big deal to anyone; but for the last several summers, this guy has let his yard grow so much that it entices the likes of field mice and snakes.
Not cool in a neighborhood full of children.  And really not cool when you're the person living RIGHT. NEXT. DOOR.

And in this neighborhood of obsessive lawn mowers,  not mowing your yard is sinful.

I think we may have cause for celebration today!

Princess A has went straight from walking and running into climbing.  Oh holy crap!  It seems as if I'm constantly pulling her out of something. 

At the end of the day when Daddy gets home, I ready to call it a day.  Do you know how uncool it is to want to turn in at 4 o'clock in the evening?

Well, I think it's cool but my teens have advised me that it's not.  According to them, it officially makes me an OLD FART.

On a more positive note...I'm really loving this warm weather.  SPRING ROCKS!  Of course, this means that I'm spending more time out doors, with the hot sun beating down on me because Princess A just can't get enough.  That, does NOT rock.

Hoping I've been random enough for you today.  Easy to have scattered, random thoughts when there is a 14-month-old getting sleepy and demanding attention. 

And yet here I am still typing away.  I'm such a good mother.

Happy RTT everyone!

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Grandma Knew Best When It Came to Teething Babies

I recently updated my Facebook status to read, "I know why OBs and Pediatricians want to be paid up front...the only thing to repo if you default is the child(ren)...and some days there is just no incentive to pay the bill."

That pretty much sums up my day yesterday...and today.


Seems my little princess is cutting some back teeth.  Between the super-drool and the crankiness, she's enjoying following me around from room to room crying at me.

And you know what horrible thought is crossing my mind?  That I understand why my grandparents' generation used Jack Daniels on a baby's gums.

It wasn't to numb it.   It was to give them just enough to souse them up.  And let's face it...a baby is either going to be happy drunk or a sleepy drunk.

Either one works for me right now.

But don't get your panties in a wad.  I'm not giving her Jack Daniels for teething.  As a matter of fact, not even giving her Tylenol (since it don't work anyway).

No, I'm toughing it out like a good Mommy. 

Albeit a stressed, teetering-on-the-edge of craziness Mommy.

Find More Random Thoughts Tuesday at The UnMom.

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Can I Get Chocolate to Go with My Cheese and Whine?

It's been a horribly long winter here.

Or so it seems. At least compared to places, like, um, California and Florida.  Maybe.

Anyway...



So when that annoying little weather man on WKRN said this past weekend was going to be temps were going to be reaching the 60s, I was ready to get OUT!

Then the little kids got sick.

Ugh.

I'm praying for all it's worth, "Dear God, please, oh, please, oh, please let them better by the weekend."

I should have been more specific.

They were better.  I wasn't.

And I'm still not.

I woke up Saturday morning with a sore throat so severe I thought I had strep throat.

Let me explain how bad it was:  I avoid doctors like the plague.  I go for two reasons:  I'm dying or I'm pregnant.

Saturday morning, it was so bad I thought it could lead to dying.

And, of course, it's the weekend.  Around here, that means the only doctor to see is at the ER; a place where you could die from old age before being seen.

So I trucked on over a couple of towns to one of those Walgreen's Take Care Clinics. (Did I mention those things are super handy?)

It's not strep throat.  Apparently just a vicious version of the common cold.

But I didn't get a day out.  Just a day (two, actually) in bed.  Doped up on Sudafed and orange juice.

I still feel like doody on a stick.  (Not sure what that is, but it's an ugly little saying I've gotten in the habit of saying.)

But the most wonderful husband in the world (mine, in case you were wondering) has promised to bring me home some chocolate.

I'm the luckiest, puniest crybaby in the world!

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Randomly Thinking Out Loud

As I look out the window today, I can see more snow.

Fortunately, it's melting as soon as it hits the ground.

And I'm happy about that.

The five inch snow we had weekend before last was fun. But I'm over it.



Of course, I shouldn't be surprised it's snowing. Eighteen years ago today it was snowing when I gave birth to my oldest son.

He's officially a man today.

It's a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, I'm happy that he's now an adult; leaving me scot-free of any responsibility, by law anyway, of any stupid stuff he does.

But as a man he's also responsible for making his own decisions...and that scares the crap out of me.

Fortunately, he's a good kid. And I think I've done a good job.

I'll keep my fingers crossed.

And as I send one into adulthood, I'm just getting started with another.

As I sit here and type, my one-year-old is creating havoc all through the house.

I was so anxious for her to walk. Now she is and I long for the days when she wasn't.

Not really but...

Well, time to put away the random thoughts....she's into something else.

I can't see her, but I know she is.

Because it's too quiet.

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Disappearing Blogs. Self-Preservation. Ten Snowflake Delays.

Yesterday was one of those horrendously long days.

School was still out for Christmas break. Yeah, tidings of comfort and joy - whatever!

A house full of kids, running wild with new toys and gadgets. And the 11-month-old, sitting amid all the chaos, is so spazzed out she's not sure if she's coming or going.

Peace on earth. What a joke.

There's not even peace in my own house.

Then somehow I get the big bright idea that I'm going to do a little redecorating here.

What was going to be a half hour of losing myself online turns into a couple of hours of desperate recovery.

I thought I had backed up my template. I really did.

But I didn't.

Next thing I know, I have a funky looking blog with nothing but posts left.

And, of course, just when I realize my mistake that's when the baby decides it's time to scream out her frustrations while tugging on my pants leg; the five-year-old is asking for a butt inspection (you know, that bit where they're learning to wipe themselves); the 13-year-old is texting like he's spreading the good word minutes before the second coming; and the 17-year-old has tuned it all out with the help of Facebook.

Even Calgon couldn't save me from the conniption I was about to experience.

And this is when the proof that children are (like) animals presented itself.

Suddenly all was quiet.

They knew what was coming, and immediately went into self-preservation mode.

Thank goodness school is back in session tomorrow. And since ten snowflakes actually stuck to the ground today, they're getting a two-hour delay.

I try to see the positive: better to be going 2 hours late than coming home 2 hours early. Right? :)

Find more Random Thoughts Tuesday at The UnMom

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Recession, Fear, and Peer Pressure for Random Thoughts Tuesday

When you're living in a small town where the only place to shop is a Wal-mart, it's really difficult to tell there is a recession going on.

The other night I went by there to pick up a few items that I needed - things that to purchase anywhere else would require several stops - and I couldn't find a parking space even relatively close to front of the store.

Now, I'm not one of those people who has to park right up front. (Most of the time anyway.) But when it's late evening, I'm not too keen on parking farther out in lot either.

There are just too many nuts these days. And not to mention we're going into a high crime season.

Add that to the recession they keep telling us we're having.

But speaking of crime -


I read something interesting. Did you that (something like) 94% of crime victims experienced some type of intuition beforehand; such as unexplained fear or a sense of dread.

All animals act on the fight or flight feelings they experience, except humans. Too often we're afraid of what others will think if we react on those feelings.

So essentially, peer pressure leads us to be crime victims.

Notice how many things we can blame on peer pressure?

Ever wonder why so many people care what others think of them?
I do. Of course, some people would tell me I should probably actually spend some time worrying about what others think.

I might get around to it....someday.

Well, there's my random thoughts for Tuesday. So what's on your mind? Share 'em during Random Thoughts Tuesday hosted by The Unmom!

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Health Care and Road Trips Straight to Hell

Aaargh! I am going to go NUTS!

So, I've got this friend - let's call her Snow - headed out on a road trip to see her daughter graduate from boot camp.

It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon and she hasn't packed a SINGLE item. She's aiming for a departure time of ten o'clock tomorrow morning.

Although Snow has known this day was coming for about 2 1/2 months now, she just reserved her hotel room two days ago, renewed her driver's license today (expired a year ago), and got her first eye exam in almost 20 years despite being blinder than a bat!

We are so opposites.

My car would already be packed. I would be living at 8 o'clock a.m. sharp - since mileage allows for an approximate 6 hour drive; which would put our arrival time at right about hotel check-in time.

I'm a stickler for stuff like that.

She's not.

But she should be, because I'm right.

I've got more control over this health care issue than I do Snow!

Speaking of which-

How'd you like that little victory lap Nancy Pelosi did at the price of her party?

Those democrats have assured themselves a pink slip in 2010.

You might have (barely) passed in the House but it's DEAD ON ARRIVAL at the Senate.

Saying "dead on arrival," then leads to the thought of not having as much time for mom blog because - wow! - people love reading true crime.

My blog on the subject - True Crime Book Reviews - is a hit! And I got to admit, sometimes that stuff is just more interesting that all this mundane Mommy stuff.

Ya know what I mean?

Then again, what kind of horrible person am I? A CRIME has to be committed - usually a pretty horrendous - to make a book. So, essentially, someone's pain is my pleasure, right?

I am so going to hell.

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I Swear I Saw The "Where's The Beef Lady?" Lady with Estelle Getty

Maybe this is a little too indicative of my age, but all I can say is this: If you think I'm old, hold on cause you're headed my direction!

Ok, that little ugly reminder out of the way, I'll carry on with my random thoughts.

Which aren't really that random. But, whatever -

Before I get started... in case you don't remember the "Where's the Beef?" lady, here's a video clip for you:

The other day, I got the crazy idea to go grocery shopping with three of my four children.

If there were laws against stupidity (which there really should be), I would have cuffed and stuffed into the back of a police cruiser so fast it would have made your head spin.

I could go on and on about this insane shopping excursion, but I'll spare you the details.

Considering that most you have (probably) been there yourself at least a few times.

Anyway, after we got our 100+ items checked out, loaded into the car and everybody buckled up; we headed out to hit a couple more errands that needed to be done.

As I'm driving along the bypass, I got behind what was obviously two little old ladies in a Chevrolet pickup truck.

They were puttering right along. One little lady hunched over at the wheel.

In a hurry to get my happy hiney home, I changed lanes to go around them; and ended up pulling up next to them at the next light.

I did my typical glance over. And immediately did a double take.

I swear, right there hunched at the wheel, barely visible above the door, was the little old lady infamous for the WHERE'S THE BEEF? Commercials.

But that wasn't the only think I was double taking over.

Seated next to her was ESTELLE GETTY - the fiesty old lady from the Golden Girls sitcom.

I know it's tacky, and my mama definitely taught me better, but I couldn't help but to stare.

I'm not sure if it was exhaustion from herding children through what's a mundane task to begin with, or if they were real.

Either way, it makes for an interesting story. :)

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Bookworms, Cops and Peeing Utility Workers

I've got so many books piled up for reviews, that lately I've been reading like a bookworm on crack.

Of course, in turn, I've neglected blogging about plenty of other things - especially to spew forth my hatred and disgust filled political topics! (Those are so much fun!)

Well, I've got a lot to say on current political issues but I'll save those for another post on another day.

It's Random Thoughts Tuesday and, boy, do I have some seriously random thoughts running around in my head.

This morning after I dropped Mr. 4 at preschool, I headed over to Sonic for my daily Dr. Pepper fix.

As I waited for my dealer - er, carhop - to bring it out, I observed two cops at the convenience store next door.

As I looked at them, something dawned on me.

Ever notice how cops seem to "fill out" to fit those belts they wear? No matter how in shape a cop appears to be at top or bottom, or how fit they were when they signed on to serve and protect, in the middle s/he (more the hes than the shes) always fills out that belt perfectly.

Being a cop is like having children, it might be admirable but it racks havoc on the body.

And speaking of public workers....

Thanks to one of our neighbors, I can't pass utility workers standing next to the vehicles now without staring.

He was hanging out here one evening and talking about his job as an electric company lineman. I can't recall how the subject came up, but somehow he mentioned that, being outdoor workers, it's not like their jobs offer even the basic of amenities.

He said it was pretty common to open the front and rear doors on the utility truck to use as a shield when a guy has to "whiz."

Now, suddenly all the utility trucks - especially those with front and rear doors open - are catching my attention.

Urban, rural...don't matter. I'm looking.

I'm not real sure what I would do if I actually confirmed someone taking care of business. Probably nothing.

It's in my head and now it's some kind of skewed curiosity, I suppose.

How weird is that though? lol

Appreciate that, neighbor boy!

What Random Thoughts are running through your head on this Tuesday? Share them at The UnMom!

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Doh! I'm Not The Only One Who Should Have Had A V-8

Lately I have just completely lost my every-lovin' flippin' mind!

I live in a small little Tennessee town where there is NOTHING to do.

So when the carnival (or, as we call it, fair) makes its annual pilgrimage into town, it's a BIG deal.

Part of the week long festivities includes a Baby Show. Anybody who has had a baby within the last 3 years enters this dang pageant.

Yeah, even me.

When Big Brother was a tot, I entered him two years in a row.

Even after I swore after the first year I wouldn't do it again.

Why?

Because he won.

And when your kid wins, you have to wait around for what seems like forever for the "Best of Show." (Sounds like a dog show, huh?)

By that time, your little bit is hot, cranky, and could care less if they are The Best - they just want to get the heck out of dodge and so do you.

He won both times. But not the best of show. Any guesses why?

But four years has caused me to have a memory lapse.

Until the other day.

After I had paid my $25 entry fee and told our family when to be there.

Doh! What have I done??!!

Now I am dreading this dog-and-pony show with every ounce of my being.

I don't want to do it.

But I will because, well, I'm too cheap to waste my entry fee.

I am, however, hoping that we don't win.

Isn't that insane?

Yet I am. That way I can show Princess A off then high tail it back to the house and the air conditioning.

Wish us luck - or not. How exactly would that work in this case?

And I'm apparently not the only one suffering from Doh moments.

What was that with Congressman Joe Wilson (SC-R) yelling out "You Lie!" at Obama during his speech last week?

I'm about as Republican as they come and Congressman Wilson was dead-on with his accusation, but, man, that's like yelling out the F-bomb in the middle of a church sermon.

You. Just. Don't. Do. It.

I did think it was classy of him to apologize to Obama - it's more than I would have done - but, unfortunately, the damage is done.

Of course, not as much damage as ACORN has done to themselves with the recent unveiling of undercover video footage of them promoting illegal immigration and prostitution.

When you figure out you've been secretly video taped doing those kind of crazy, ILLEGAL things, that's really gotta be a DOH! moment.

Here's a V-8. Bottoms up, boys!

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The 17 Year Old and The KGB Incident

In less than a year, my oldest (17) will leave for college.

I am really, really afraid of what will happen when he doesn't have mom to help squash the stupidity everyday.

The other day, I got our cell phone bill in the mail. It usually averages $110 per month.

Brian, who initially would have only sent a text kicking and screaming, has suddenly found that it's a handy dandy little way to talk with someone without all the useless conversation in between.

So, a month here and there, the bill will reach $120. (No unlimited text plan for Brian....yet!)

This month: $140.

Doesn't sound bad, right? Maybe to some, but I keep a tight reign on our expenses.

Amazing that my first thought wasn't the guy who has just learned texting as the culprit.

No, I immediately thought of the 17-year-old.

And, of course, I was right.

He didn't suddenly start texting out of network.

He didn't go over his allotted minutes.

He did decide he was going to text that silly KGB group. You've see the advertisements, right?

Text any question to 542542 and they'll answer it.

So when I confronted him with it, know what he said?

"I thought that counted in my unlimited texting."

Um, no. [insert an eye roll] Did you not see (or hear) that it's 99 cents per text?

He replies, "Sorry. No."

Brain dead.

Nothing going on up there.

Selective reading/hearing.

Obviously.

So I made him give me $20.

He wasn't happy.

I didn't care.

Bet he doesn't do that again.

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Conversations With Stupidity

There are so many thoughts running through my head as I write this that I'm not sure I can snatch a random one.

The first thing that comes to mind is the nutty conversation I had with my 13-year-old son.

Before the story gets started, I've got to tell you that every single day - sometimes many times per day - his girlfriend (also 13) calls him. Together they sit and watch television, or play video games online.

So, at the moment this begins, my brain dead teen has the phone to his ear and the 'puter mouse in hand. Telephonically and virtually, they are together.

Then suddenly the brain dead child turns to me and says, "Can I go to the library with her?"

My first thought and response come simultaneously: "What?"

He says, "The library? Can I go?"

Knowing that he seldom cracks even a textbook and recreational reading is something he makes jokes about, I asked, "Why?"

"She's going," he says.

"And?," I reply with an exaggerated motion of the head and shoulders.

"And what?" says the oh great dense one.

"And what do you plan to do? At. The. Library. The Place with BOOKS," I say.

"We're going to get on the computer."

I shake my head as if to rattle out the stupidity that may have slipped in with his sentence and say, "You're on a computer. Right now."

He turns to look at me and I can see that the IQ level is continuing to drop. Then he confirms it. "Theirs are faster."

At this point, I just lose it and begin laughing; as does my seventeen-year-old son who is not as much brain dead these days.

"What?" says brainiac.

Mr. 17 pipes up and says, "Um, they're so full of crap with downloads and other stuff that they're slower. And you have to wait in line for one. Then you have a 1 hour time limit."

"I don't think so, but whatever-", says the 13-year-old know-it-all.

Who then returns to the conversation with his girlfriend and says, "I can't go." And when she must have asked why, he says, "I don't know. Something about I'm on one that's better and I don't need to go."

Yep, still brain dead. And at 13, it'll be a few years before the fog lifts.

God save us all! :)

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Randomly Thinking About Back To School

I can't believe it's almost back to school time.

At the beginning of summer, I was counting down the days until they returned. Because, you know, children are always riled up when school first lets out.

But now that they'll be returning in just a couple of weeks, suddenly I'm thinking about having to get up early, fix breakfast, homework in the evenings, and bedtime routines.

Ugh!

And then let's talk about that school supply list.

Fortunately, the middle school my second child attends has finally decided to be reasonable with supply lists.

In years past, I had to wonder, "What the heck?!" as I was requested (we all know it's not a request and if you don't buy it, your child will be singled out) to purchase things like toilet paper, light bulbs, copy paper - yadda, yadda, yadda.

Um, I'm pretty sure I've been paying a $50/year wheel tax for the past 19 years plus property taxes and local sales tax; all of which, supposedly, goes to the schools. Not to mention that schools receive state and federal funds.

So why do you want me to buy this fluff?

As far as I'm concerned, I want to opt out of buying "the extras." Here's why:

1. My kid refuses to "go" at school, if you know what I mean, and instead saves it up all day so that he can turn our bathroom into a toxic dumping ground. Being a boy, this means he requires no toilet paper; just a hand that can shake it off.
   
   
2. Last time we checked, he had 20/20 vision. The school has BIG windows in each classroom. The mix creates a decent seeing ability. Use that.
   
   
3. Are those boring PTA updates really necessary? If I cared what went on at those sleep-inducing social events, I would attend. If I'm not there, I don't wanna know. So, save a tree will ya - go green - and use the copy paper for the important stuff.

I really like the high school years. When they get to be that age, it's pretty simple: pencil, paper, a pen, and a folder or two.

And the best part: you can hand the kid a $10 bill and tell 'em to get there own.

I'm such a good mom! ;)

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Illegal Immigration and Universal Health Care for Random Thoughts Tuesday

I was tickled pink last week to see that my rant on illegal immigration in America is something that most everyone agrees on.

I think it's probably the one issue that can literally bring Americans (the legal ones) to the brink of something similar to world peace; just on a national level.

Or the ones who don't agree had enough sense to see they were outnumbered and kept their mouth shut. ;)

You've got an estimated 15 million illegals in this country and the hot topic of universal health care brewing on Capitol Hill.

So what do they have to do with each other?

Well, if Obama and his brown-nosing Congress gets their friggin' way...a lot!

In this Universal Health Care plan that Obama is trying like a madman to push through - to the point of sounding like a broken freakin' record - insurance will not only be provided to Americans (yippee! *rolling my eyes*) but to illegal immigrants too.

Oh boy! Not only do they get to live here without paying federal taxes, contributing to the social security and medicare funds, and pop out anchor babies that then insure them food stamps and similar benefits, but now we're going to reward their CRIMES (for the dense: illegal = crime), by signing them up on an AMERICAN FUNDED insurance program.

When we're all waiting in line for own health care after ObamaCare goes into effect, better look around and thank all those illegals you see in line too - after all, they just made you wait a little bit longer.

And how long did they wait for all these benefits?

None. Nada.

They want all the benefits of an American, but they sure don't to be an American.

That might require them to wait.

Why bother? We just keep rewarding them for sneaking over here under the cover of darkness.
And we're about to do it again with a universal health care plan.

Even those who support a universal health care plan don't support giving it to illegals. As a matter of fact, 70% of health care plan supporters are in disagreement with illegals receiving the benefit.

Get that Congress? Hear that Obama?

NOBODY, except a few people still running around with their head up their butts, wants it to reward criminals!!

And for those who haven't figured out that the head is supposed to be well above the rear, don't give me that old song and dance about illegals coming here for a better life. Because the truth is, while they're running here ILLEGALLY in the name of bettering their life, they are destroying for those of us here LEGALLY - which eventually will ruin it for them too.

But what will they do? They'll run back to Mexico (or wherever they're from). Just as I've heard others who are living here legally yet not citizens say that, if American health care gets screwed up much like their own countries (read: Canada and New Zeland, as two examples that come to mind), they'll just return home because private care there, if needed, will be cheaper than in the U.S.

Must be nice. As a born and bred American, I don't have any where to run away to. I have no choice but to stick out. After all, other countries won't let me just pop in and start sucking off their system.

Yep, my homeland is definitely the land of opportunity; that's for sure. It's the only place on earth that refuses to acknowledge illegal immigration as a crime then not only fails to punish it, but rewards it.

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Random Thoughts (More Like A Rant) on Illegal Immigration

I happened across a news post the other day pertaining to illegal immigrants whining about their hardships during the current recession.

Specifically, an illegal who had lost his job in the boat manufacturing trade was playing on the bleeding hearts about having to move into a home with others where before he had a home with just him and his children.

Boo-freakin'-woo.

There's a boatload (pun intended) of legal Americans doing the same thing.

They can't consider just "running back home" like the illegal in the story because they have no home to run back to. America is their home, and there's no choice but to stick it out and pray for the best.

And, I swear, if I hear one more person say "we're all immigrants," I'm going to slap them silly.

Yeah, we're all immigrants; but, guess what, our forefathers did it legally. And I have no problem with those who take the proper channels to live and work in America. America is a melting pot - but you need a recipe (immigration rules) to make the soup turn out right.

And the 13% of Americans who are all for amnesty (read: 87% of Americans are not), usually make their arguments on how we took the land from the American Indians.

Yes, we did. We did it just like everyone did it back then. We fought for it. Winner takes all. It happened all over the world (well, a lot of it anyway). And it is still happening today - just look at the issues surrounding the Gaza Strip.

Mexicans and other illegals want America? Try fighting for it. You won't win, but you can try.

I'd prefer they put a fight rather than just slipping in under the cover of darkness, popping out an anchor baby, then sucking off a welfare system they haven't paid a dime into.

I figure someone this post will fall into the hands of those 13% and I'll be berated for my opinion. I'll be called "racist" (because somehow people forget there are white illegals too and I'm pointing the finger at them as well) or, if they want to sink really low, a "mean person."

Don't care.

I'm an American. A proud American. I am thankful for all that my forefathers did to ensure me a better life in the greatest country in the World.

I don't want to see it ruined by people who don't care to play by the rules and wait their turn in line.

A funny tagline on this issue: Calling an illegal immigrant an undocumented worker is like calling a drug dealer an unlicensed pharmacist. (Think on that one for a bit!)

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Vacation. Men Hens. Random Thoughts Tuesday.

So many random thoughts. Such little time. Where should I begin?

Hmmm....

Vacation. I'm glad it's over and that Brian returns to work today.

I love him dearly, but OH-DEAR-GAWD he makes me bonkers when he's at home all day, every day.

Sure, he did a ton of work tearing down our deck and preparing for the new patio's concrete to be poured, but he did a lot of serious messing around too.

The kids loved it. I didn't.

I now understand how retired couples feel.

And then, if one man hanging around isn't bad enough, my backyard has become the neighborhood hang out for all the men. They're constantly stopping by to see what project Brian's got going on now.

Pull up in the driveway. There's Brian plus another one.

Go outside on the front porch, a third one has come along.

And men say a group of women is a bunch of hens...HA! You oughta hear all the "clucking" they do.

I'm just so happy I get my house back tomorrow. My daily routine can actually become routine again.

I love him dearly....but a little time apart is the safest a good thing.

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Michael Jackson. Babbling Teens. Spasming Out.

Oh, where to start this week. So many random thoughts.

The first thing that comes to mind is that I'm get SICK AND TIRED of hearing about Michael Jackson!

I want my regular television programing back. I want talk radio back. I want country stations to stop playing twangy versions of MJ songs (you didn't consider them country before - why now?!).

Even Nancy Grace, who I've always given credit to for extensive coverage on stories others only gave a fleeting thought, had to jump on the MJ train.

For the love of all things good and pure!! Let him rest in peace!

Fortunately, ranting and raving about Michael Jackson has helped keep me from spasming over all the construction mess on going around here as we replace the deck with a patio.

I don't handle change well. At all.

And speaking of spasming...I'm going to go nuts listening to my random-thought'ing 17 year old who is standing in front of me right - even though he can see I am BUSY - babbling nonsense.

I'm sure by the time he's done with his diarrhea of the mouth, another child will come along to share their insane thoughts.

And why is that when you're the busiest is when they want to discuss some of the silliest stuff? Then again, when you're not busy and have plenty of time for them, they don't want you anywhere near them?

Well, if I want any peace and quiet, I guess I need to wrap this up.

Who's the queen manipulator now? ;)

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