i have known this woman for most of my adult life. she’s been a friend, a mentor, a compassionate and sometimes “what the fuck are you doing” ear. like me, she doesn’t know how to swim, but man-o-man can we float! she wasn’t upset when i didn’t invite her to our city hall wedding; hers was a similar wedding, which was planned on a monday with the deal done on a friday. physically, we are complete opposites! she’s nearly 6′ and i’m 5′5″. her short, blond, punky (with help) hair has always been that way, while my long (down to my ass) dark brunette hair would remind you of keri russell’s prior to “the cut of the century.” she doesn’t give a shit about politics and i am, well, the crazy conservative cougar who’s never missed a vote.
this woman called me earlier today with the most devastating of news–her husband of so many years has a long-term mistress. (it gets better.) this punk of a man has a child with his mistress. how does she process this? what’s the point of a marriage? what’s wrong with this asshole? i’ve never cheated, nor have i been cheated on; there’s no empathy on my side. the sympathy and rage she can have in spades, but i don’t know how to help her process this, at all. i feel useless and small.
marriage vows are sacred and yes, marriage is hard. but, what the fuck man? can’t you man up if you don’t want to be with her? what kept you there for years, and all the while you’re fucking someone else on the sly? plus, you’ve got a child to whom you can’t be a full-time father. i don’t understand. can someone help me?
on another note (as i tweeted earlier this evening): got any thoughts on revenge?
with each occurrence of 9/11 (i despise the word “anniversary” in this case) i grow more and more outraged at the american response to this murderous act. i didn’t lose anyone on that day; nevertheless, i am an american and i am affected.
i want leaders in washington, d.c. who’ll take the fight, the real fight, where it needs to be, and not some punk who bows to saudi kings.
God bless all of the families.
9/11/2001 phone calls
Link: 
i’ve let my fingers do the walking on the blogs concerning today’s coverage of the 8th year after 9/11/2001. ed morrissey over at hot air summed up my feelings the best in an article he posted early this morning:
“Project 2996: Remembering the lost of 9/11“
The horror of each individual loss would likely overwhelm us if we thought about it all of the time, if we think about the deaths each of them endured, simply because they lived in America and murderous nutcases hated them for it. (note: i added the bolding to murderous nutcases to draw emphasis to this most important of phrases.)
well said, mr. morrissey, well said.
i truly believe the broadcasters should show the coverage from 9/11/2001 every 9/11 from 2002 into eternity. people forget about this tragedy and some only seem to remember every occurrence of 9/11. i didn’t lose anyone on that day, nor do i know any of the folks who lost their lives, and yet, i continue to feel rage nearly every day i draw a breath. those men, women and children who lost their lives had no chance to defend themselves. they had no chance of survival. the “murderous nutcases” struck my country, and all i want to do is rage. i wish i were a billionaire. wanna know what i’d do with the money? i’d hire a team of at least 1,000 snipers and mercenaries and send them all into the tribal regions. i’d offer a $10,000,000,000.00 bounty to the person(s) who’d bring me osama bin laden alive. all of the snipers on my team, and their families into the generations, would live tax free for eternity. i’d invite rudy giuliani over to my home, and together we’d torture that radical muslim scumbag son of a bitch, with everything televised live on television. any of the victims’ families who either wanted to watch the torture live, or even better participate, would have an open invitation to do so.
i am not an evil woman by nature. however, like the title says i am a crazy conservative cougar, and part of me will never fully understand america’s response to the murder of so many of our citizens. we know who did this. we know who did this. on 9/12/2001, we should have decimated all things radical muslim. we should have profiled every fucking arab-looking person on a bus, train or plane, and tell them to get the mother fuck out of my country. get out. i’ll let you back in only when you prove you’re a legal american citizen, and once i know you’re down with america and all she stands for, and that you’re not fronting. you don’t like capitalism and freedom and God and christianity and catholicism and free speech and the u.s. constitution and women in pants? get the fuck out, you heinous and evil mother fuckers.
what do you do when you’re attacked? you fight back at the source of the attack, correct? of course it’s correct. then why in the hell did we invade iraq? is it because the bushes have friends in the saudi family? did the president not have the fucking balls to do what was really necessary? if someone hits you, you don’t fight back on that person’s cousin. you strike at the source. i understand that. why didn’t bush?
on this most solemn of days, i’ll say a prayer for all of the families affected by the murderer osama bin laden. if there truly is a literal hell, i know satan will welcome him with open arms.
men. i love men! there are great men and then there are men who either need a weighted tire thumper to the back of the head or a bullet to the brain. this post strictly deals with the former.
since the beginning of time, and continuing until the universe implodes, we’ll always have misogynists, male chauvinists, etc. (note to the whiners over at the tennessee guerrilla women’s blog: this is a patriarchal society. however, despite what you’re thinking, women hold all the power. stop with the shrill. also, hillary clinton is a doormat.) this is an undeniable fact which will never be changed, and i’m fine with that. i handle both of these groups of boys in my own special and cougarish ways. men are funny, weird and exhausting creatures, and i can’t imagine being the male of the species! the testosterone, knowing at a glance when i’ve turned you on, and protecting the home and family are some of the manly aspects which really fascinate me. after i went postal on a former boyfriend who attempted to hit me, my baby brother just happened to run into this punk (read between the lines) and gave him a beat down. that’s the way it should be, and my brother did the right thing. (thanks again, baby brother.)
men. i love you guys!
here’s a list of some of the men i’d bed (if the mister wasn’t in the picture):
barry pepper (that nose and those arms make me drool); rush; glenn beck; jonathan hoenig; todd, the blogger over at IDontLikeYouInThatWay (he’s funny, brutal and hyper-sexual; love it!); harvey levin; david asman (fox news); jonathan hunt (fox news); gavin rossdale; sean patrick flanery; christian bale; clive owen; nikki sixx; jon favreau; jim carrey; scott caan; luke wilson; michael savage; andy levy; william fichtner; and, johnny depp (where to begin!). finally and probably most importantly is keith olbermann. poor chap! no one’s watching his show, he’s a nut case and i can’t stomach the guy. nevertheless, i’d give him the night of his life and give him the blow job he so desperately needs.
why yes, al michaels, i surely do! here’s another reason why i’m in love with america:
i’m sure you’ve seen the t-mobile dance by now. i’ve watched this little diddy at least a dozen times! i suppose what i appreciate most is the bystanders, folks just like you and me who are going about their day when all of a sudden scores of people boogie down. the smiles, the not being able to keep time, the hands as if they’re conducting an orchestra …. yup, i love it all!
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
most saturday nights are spent playing no limit hold ‘em with a large group of friends, and of course the dreaded noob. it’s the one day of the week where we all have the opportunity to reconnect, make plans for the upcoming week and of course, trash talk.
one of my favorite participants at our weekly games is a young man we’ll call brian. (the name has been changed to protect the innocent.) brian is all of 23-years-old, 20 years my junior, and he’s one of the best natural talents at the game i’ve ever seen. he’s scarily good at poker. he reminds me of negreanu in that in inherently knows what his opponents are holding. he is a brilliant player.
brian is also a hardcore alcoholic, and he knows it. he’s admitted this to me. many a saturday night, and other days during the course of the week, i’ve seen brian shit-faced beyond comprehension. brian’s behavior frightens me, and i’ve informed him of my feelings. i can recount at least seven times during the course of the last four years (the length of time i’ve known him) where i’ve had to either punch him to get his keys, or make a scene in a public place to shame him and then get the keys. i’d do all of this again, and he knows it.
brian knows two of my family members — both young men his age — who have been killed by drunk drivers. he’s got my telephone number and he’s called me three times to come and pick him up because he’s too impaired to drive. i’ll do this again, and he knows it.
at last night’s game, brian’s drinking was at a level i’ve never witnessed before. he was more “lovey-dovey” than usual, and taking off his clothes. he wanted to sit by me during all of last night’s tournaments, and the after-party cash game, and i told him to go fuck himself. GO. FUCK. YOURSELF. you disgust me. you’re a beautiful, intelligent and wonderful young man. God has given you so many gifts and you’re spitting in my general direction by your behavior.
towards the end of the evening and as i was preparing to leave, brian comes over to me (fully-dressed by this time) and tells me, “you’re my savior.” pardon me? your savior? i don’t want that responsibility, sweetheart, and i reject the notion of being your savior, let alone any else’s savior. I. AM. NOT. YOUR. SAVIOR. period. full stop. your life is just that, YOUR LIFE. you’re responsible for your actions, good and bad. brian, i can’t show you your “bottom;” you’ve got to achieve that on your own. when you’re at the point when you’ve lost everything, excluding your life, you’ll at that point begin to realize and change your life. my husband did it. my big brother did it. two of my uncles did it. my mother didn’t, and now she’s rotting in a grave at santa cruz memorial. how dare you tell me i’m your savior. i’m not. i’m your friend, i’m your supporter and i can also be a chauffeur. i won’t pay for your habits, and i can’t save you from your habits. i want you to be the very best you can be, yet you’re at your very worst when you imbibe to excess. i adore the ground on which you walk, yet i despise your actions and your mindset when you drink. i am here for you, for now and forever, but i can’t save you.
this one’s for brian. i hope i see you next week …
where the hell have i been hiding! under a rock? behind a door? why didn’t i know about willy deville? what is my major malfunction! why hasn’t any one schooled me on this amazing musician? a dorkus cougarus i am …
i’m about to drop a boatload of american dollars on itunes and scoop up everything i can on mr. deville and mink deville. next time, help a cougar out and let me know about the music to which i need to be listening!
nancy pelosi, God love her, is one crazy broad. thisclose to being the next president of these here united states of america, right after saul alinsky’s devotee and joe “mcgaffe” biden. bloody hell, what is wrong with this country?
(i could be wrong about this next bit, so correct me if i’m wrong. was it specter’s town hall at which this occurred?) earlier this week as the news media was broadcasting arlen specter’s town hall meeting, someone in the audience stood up and asked the good senator to sponsor a bill on term limits for senators and representatives. if memory serves, mr. specter stated “you can vote me out of office at any time.” specter jumped one supposed sinking ship onto one which is really sinking, and i’m hoping beyond all hopes that his flip-flopping ass will be voted out of office.
i want to feel good about my country and my president again, but i don’t know when that will happen. well, it will happen when we’ve got a conservative republican in office, but do i really have to wait until the next election for the warm fuzzies to return? child, i hope not! see, the only thing i want from the federal government is to keep me safe. that means ensure the infrastructure is good to go, and for fuck’s sake bomb the shit out of those countries which attack us. 9/12/01? we should have laid waste to mecca and saudi arabia. screw the “war in iraq.” what a bunch of crap. keep me safe, stay out of my bedroom and my bank accounts and we’re good to go. what do i have now? a president who goes around apologizing on the world stage, and bowing to saudi kings. yeah, america!
i will feel good about my country again, and soon. i have to …
