Finish The Sentence Friday ... Cats, Red Beans and Rice, and a Lamborghini

Faletame

My cats have been acting up.

You can tell my life is interesting, huh?

I was chatting with my cousin a few minutes ago, and she stated that she doesn't care for cats.  Her words were that she was never at home and was allergic to them.

You should have seen my cats shaking as they read her words.

Faletame said, "So, she runs around all the time and has the audacity to say she's allergic!  How does she know if she's always running around somewhere?"

Of course, Gabriela had to add, "Sounds like she's out running the streets like I used to ... before I settled down and became a wonderful example to cathood families everywhere!"

"Now, both of you hush!  That's my cousin you're talking about!"

"But we live with you!  That should mean something!  Or, are we just furry friends when you want us around?  Oh yeah, "Here kitty" when you want some loving and "Shut the hell up" when we simply state the truth!  And you know she runs around ... she told you so!" added Gabriela.

They had a point!

Thus, I'm in a fix.  I really do care a lot for my cousin.  She's had a tough life, and needs a friend (as we all do) every now and then.  But, on the other side, my cats are like my kids.

"Like you had anything to do with me being born!"

"Hush, Faletame!  

Quit reading over my shoulder.  You know what I mean!"

"Yeah, you're just scared now!  You remember sending me to the vet's planned parenthood program.  You know one night, you might wake up to find me down around your crotch ... claws sharpened and ready for action!  You think it's fun being a eunuch, do you?"

He had another point.

Still, I find myself slightly in a fix.  I’m not going to cast away my cousin.  She’s really a very respected person and a great friend to boot.  And my cats, well, my cats are my cats!  They’ll always be a part of my life.

Gabriela

“You’re saying that so you can sleep at night, aren’t you?”

“No, Gabriela, I’m saying it because it’s true.  Even though you’re both pains in the butts at times, get your stray fur all around the keyboard as you practice your typing, and leave giant mounds of crap in the litter box for Millie to clean up, 

I love you both."

"So, you love us both?"

"Yes, I love you both."

"So, do you love Faletame 

more than me, or me 

more than Faletame?"

God, I think I feel an allergy coming on!

Anyway, it's time for:

"Finish The Sentence Friday!!!!"

Whoopee!  Whoopee!  Whoopee!

This is the time of the week that I now place an image that shows the rules and gracious hostesses of this spectacular weekly event.

So, great image, isn't it?

Anyway, this week's prompt to finish is:

"A typical day in my life looks like ... "

The real question is, "Should I divulge the secret lifestyle I cherish?"

Actually, it's pretty boring.  See if you don't agree.

I arise to a beautiful blue sky each and every morning.  (I painted a beautiful blue sky on my bedroom ceiling just so I could arise that way.  I was going to paint a beautiful night sky, which I really prefer, but I figured I'd think it still night time and go back to sleep until it actually was night time, when I could really get up to the sky I preferred.)   (If you followed that you're better than most.)

I do the typical bathroom stuff and come out feeling completely awake and refreshed.  Smelling of Royal Copenhagen cologne (no longer being produced), I enter into my breakfast nook to a light meal of pancakes with strawberry syrup, three eggs, six pieces of bacon, wheat toast with real butter, orange juice, and black coffee.   (Okay, so I imagined everything but the coffee, let a guy live his dream for a while.)

I then enter my Lamborghini and race down the two mile driveway to the main road.  Passing police officers at speeds in excess of 180 mph, I wave as I know I’ve still plenty of money lying in wait of the tickets they’ll write while laughing at how funny it was for them to be left behind in a cloud of dust.  (Yeah, Yeah, so I bounce out of the driveway onto the street in my Honda Ridgeline, and creep by the cop cars in hopes that they don’t notice my seat belt no longer works properly.)

Arriving at work, the valet takes my car and gently parks it by the front door.  I enter the building and am greeted with complete respect by my underlings that believe brown nosing the boss means an employment future.  I ride my private elevator to the 737th floor, walk into my office in the clouds, and peruse my computer for items requiring my expertise.  (Yep, you guessed it.  I park six blocks from work in a free parking zone, am ignored by all except the receptionist who immediately reminds me I’m late, walk down three flights of stairs to my office next to the cardboard incinerator and sewer hook-ups, and check my email for any spam that looks like it means I’ve won money from a past dictator from Africa.)

Diligently I work on matters of world importance until time for lunch.  I then enjoy a Continental Offering of Italian, Swiss, and American delicacies.   (So I search the web to act like I’m busy, until it’s time to eat my Dollar Tree salami and cheese on wheat bread sandwich for lunch.)

The afternoon passes quickly as my technical skills are called into use many times.  Finally, as the work day ends, I don my exercise gear, get my body in shape to it’s six pack image, jump in my Lamborghini and head back home to my mansion on the hill.  (You guessed it.  After making 117 field goals while playing with rubber bands and paperclips, I walk the six blocks back to my truck, beer gut heaving as I try to catch my wind, crawl up into my truck, and drive home to the shack behind the radio tower.)

After indulging in another evening delicacy from New Orleans, I head back to my computer and answer the millions of fan letters I have waiting from all of those that love my writing and can’t wait until the next installment.  (Okay, so it’s Zatarain’s Red Beans & Rice frozen TV dinner, emails from Direct TV and Bluegrass Energy telling me my credit card was rejected and that the bills were due two days ago, and a few drunken acquaintances that wonder if I’m ever going to go back to Hubpages and start writing for real again.)

After an evening of expressive entertainment, I snack on Idaho’s finest treats, brush my teeth, and head off into a dreamland in my King Size bed.  (Or, after suffering through my wife’s watching of The Voice, Dancing With The Stars, or Duck Dynasty, I grab a bag of potato chips, inhale them all within seconds, and hit the waterbed for four hours of sleep before having to get up and do it all over again the next day!)

Now, aren’t you glad you asked?

“So, do you love Faletame more than me, or me more than Faletame?  You still haven’t answered me!”

Oh, God ... why me?

Gabriela's "Mommy Blog Monday"

Hi y'all!   It's me again!

Hello! Hello!

The girl of girls, 

the furry fan 

 of fabulous friends,

the magical mommy 

of mommies,

the demonic cat 

of Kentucky Flatt,

yes, ladies,

I have returned!!!

Gabriela's In The House!!!

(Boom Shaka Laka,  Boom Shaka Laka!)

I knew I'd get my way and get my own day to blog if I created a big enough fit over it!  Rich has agreed to let me have my day!  

Of course, I had to threaten him a little.  

We argued about it some, but he finally saw my side of the story when I asked him (while I was sharpening my claws) if he'd like to wake up one morning with the same abilities to please a woman that Faletame has!   

I said, 

"Richiepoo, I ain't no vet, 

but I can say I surely bet, 

my claws can make a difference, in the way you set ... down!"   

Girls, he quickly saw it my way!  lol  Just remember, to properly inspire, you gotta show some fire!

So, now I got my day to blog.  I just gotta figure out something to talk about!  Like that's ever been a problem for me.

Being a mommy, I guess I can talk about mommies.  I can hear y'all's knees knockin' now!  

"Oh, Gabriela ... be gentle!  You know we love our kids and husband with all our lives!  We'd do anything to make them happy!  We always try to show love and affection!"

Who do you think y'all are talkin' to, girls?  Y'all just like me ... as long as you're in control, you're the baddest bitch on the block!  Then, when something goes too far, you just say, "What have I got myself into", start blamin' someone else, say the hell with the diet, eat a half gallon of Cookies 'N Cream ice cream, and then call your cryin' buddy and let out all your guilty feelin's about how you should be appreciated more!

Ladies, that's what we do!  Be loud and be proud!

I remember my six kids!  In fact, I think of them all the time ... and am happy to have them out of my life!  Oh chill now, I'm just jokin'!  I loved them, for about five minutes after they was born.  Then, girls, they started feedin' on me.  

OH....MY....GOD...!!!!      The little suckers had teeth!!!

Y'all's kids don't get teeth till they're done feedin' on you.  Mine were born with them!  Big long fangs that would dig way down to your back bone and scrap the fleas off the vertebrae!  

You know how it feels when your boyfriend,  oops, hubby are in that sexy lovin' mood and he starts goin' a little crazy on you and bites down when he shouldn't???  (Yeah, we know where to get them back for that ... don't we girls?)

But, imagine, six of those darling dears bitin' you at once!    I swear, I just about decided immediately that all of them were gonna go on a starvation diet right out of the pod!  

But, it's all about a mother's love.  I laid there, day after day, as my six little, lovin' babies sucked in their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  Six furry frocks of feedin' frenzy ... just going to town on all I had to offer.

I'd always heard that a mother's love was unconditional.  If I'd have known about the bitin' condition, I might have thought twice about gettin' conditionally pregnant!  

However, as a lovin' mother, I had just one thought, 

"When the hell y'all gonna start eatin' solid food?"

Well, they got older real fast.  And before you know it, they're gone!  I really miss them sometimes.  They don't even write!  It's kind of like, "Gee Mom, thanks for the food.  Gotta go!  Maybe see you around!"

Ain't that the fate we have, ladies?  We're used by men, used by kids, and then expected to be the lovin', sweet, devoted creatures we portray ourselves to be.  

Gets cha all mushy inside.  Kind of makes you want to start drinkin'... again!   Least, that's my excuse!  lol

Anyway, I guess the moral of this blog is, 

"Love and enjoy y'all's kids and husband as long as they're around.  

Almost nothin' lasts forever, and along with the good, comes some pain!  

Plus, there's always wine for the whine!  

So, open that sucker up!"

          *          *          *          *          *          *           *           *          *          *          *

***If  y'all want, I'll be back next Monday.  I'm thinkin' about talkin' about the subject "Men-O-Pause!"  Remember, Rich will only let me come back if you comment favorably!  Let him know what you think below!

Later!

Now, if you don't mind, I've gotta get my beauty sleep!
Writing a blog is a lot of work!

FTSF - Reality TV and Me

Well, here we are again!   

Finish the sentence Friday is here.  I'd thought about skipping this one and really taking a day off.  But, since the only blog posted on my site this week came from my cat, Gabriela, I have to remember my obligations.  So, let me get to it!   

Let it be kept in mind that I'm watching the final "Resident Evil" movie "Retribution" while I'm attempting to accomplish this.  So, if I seem somewhat spaced out at times, you'll know it's because I'm staring at and dreaming of a magnificent fantasy that includes myself and Milla Jovovich!    

You see, Milla and I have had a long relationship.  She represents everything I'd want in a woman.  Not only can she kick anyone's ass that decided to make fun of my writing, but she'd look great doing it!   And yes, I recognize that I have nothing to offer her, and really can't even tell you a thing about her personal life.  Still, we must enjoy fantasies wherever we can find them.   

Even my cat Faletame is stroking his whiskers and giving me a high five on this one!

Gabriela's saying, "Hey Faletame, thanks to the vet, you couldn't do anything with her if you wanted!"

What a bitch!

Oh, yes, it's finish the sentence Friday!   I had been slightly detracted, thinking about Milla.   Sweet Milla!   Such a lean, mean, fighting machine that looks so good in spandex and latex.  I mean, there's really not that many ladies that look good holding a gun!  But with Milla, it looks so natural.

Finish the Sentence Friday, Rich ... Finish the Sentence Friday ....

This week, the zookeepers are again:

Janine from Janine's Confessions of a Mommyholic

Kate From Kate's Can I Get Another Bottle Of Whine

Stephanie from Stephanie's Mommy For Real

Dawn From Dawn's Disaster

They have put their heads together to come up with another stirring question guaranteed to reach new depths of septic tank sludge in requiring answers from all of those daring enough to participate.  

So, without further ado, let us see the sentence we are supposed to finish .....

If Milla Jovovich were to ask you or your husband out on a ..........

Sorry, wrong sentence.    Here's the real one:

“When it comes to reality TV shows, I…”

So, here I go...

When it comes to reality TV shows, I could make the journeys through them with Milla Jovovich by my side.

Together, we could use the method of body warming body as we traveled the frozen North in the land of Ice Road Truckers!  I'm sure we'd be in constant danger of melting the ice over which we drove our eighteen wheeler, yet, the crackling of the ice would only heighten the intensity of the drama shown on the screen.

Milla and I could show up the Gator Boys and catch a 20 foot gator by simply mesmerizing it with her beauty as I slipped up behind it and taped its jaws shut.  Then, together, we'd laugh and laugh as it wore itself out thrashing its tail around in anger at not being able to taste her flesh.

We'd travel to Texas and show the Rattlesnake Republic how to draw out the snakes by simply having Milla sing lightly as she trod through snake country.  Like the Pied Piper, she'd lead them to the boxes I'd prepared, into which they'd crawl to simply cool off from the heat she projected.

To the Amazon Jungle we'd go next.  The boys from Alabama, looking for gold, would find a new meaning to the title "Bamazon" upon seeing her in the tiny jungle garb she chose to wear.  So enthralled they'd be that they would never see me slipping all the gold they'd collected into my own backpack.  By the time they stopped thinking of the image of Milla, we'd be far away and safely enjoying the profits of the trip along the beaches of Rio!

Together, her and I could travel to Vegas and visit the Pawn Stars shop.  There, I'd wager with Chumley as to his ability to get Milla to go on a date with him.  After he lost, I'd take the Picasso and the two man helicopter and Milla and I would fly to the land of Anthony Boudain's five star restaurant selections in New York City!  Among the lights, we'd dine on the finest of delicacies, ending of course, with the one strand of spaghetti that drew our lips together.   (Remember the Lady And The Tramp?)

However, as with all reality TV shows, seasons end and shows are cancelled.  I'd finally remember that I was married and have to give up my dreams of Milla being forever in my life.  She, of course, would be completely heartbroken, and sue me for a nominal sum on the People's Court.  As a penalty for my discretion's, I'd be sent, along with eight high school kids, to a session of Scared Straight, where prison occupants would threaten to maim, injure, and even kill me if they ever saw me again.  

When it was over, my wife would come and pick me up, and tell me she'd scheduled appearances on both the Dr. Phil show and Jerry Springer to see if help was available for what I'd done.  Before I could appear, the stress would get to me, I'd have a fatal heart attack, and Ghost Hunters would come to Kentucky to spend the night in my house talking to my spirit.  They'd record an unknown voice, that when presented to my wife the next day, would draw screams of anger, as she listened to it say,

"Milla ... Milla ... Milla ...   You're one hot lady!"

Now, I'm getting back to watching the movie!   

Thank God for Blue Rays!!!

Gabriela Speaks .... Again!

Hey Ladies!   It's Me, Gabriela!
Can we talk?

Okay, Rich is tired and worn out.  He's worked seven days straight and still has one to go before he gets a day off!  

At least, that's what he's telling me to say.  Actually, he's watching a basketball game.  Yeah, he's an ass at times!  Whenever college basketball season comes around, Faletame tells me Rich forgets about everything else and cements his big butt in front of his 50" television.  

I've never actually written a blog before.  Oh, I had that "Demon Cat" series that Rich has attached to his blog above, but that's in the past.  Besides, I might have pulled his leg a little on that one.  Tee hee hee!   Rich is so damn gullible at times!

So, I'm here ... and I know that most of you write "Mommy Blogs!"  Well guess what?  

I'm a mommy!!!!

So, I'm gonna fit right in here.  And Janine, you've got nothing on me, girl.  You want to complain all the time about not being able to crap in peace with only two young ones.  Hell, I had six of them clinging to my nipples at one time!   You want to talk about trying to take a crap in peace!  Girl, only having two of them young furry pests hanging around would have been a dream!

And ladies, I didn't even have a man around to help me!  No, he got his jollies off and then left!  No good bastard!   Left me before I'd even had a chance to enjoy it!   At least, I think he was the one.  When we cats go into heat, who keeps track!   It's what we like to call a real "block party!"  You all should try it some time!

But, there I was.  Before you knew it, I was bloated up like a dead armadillo in the middle of the road.  I waddled around the neighborhood, trying to find someone to take pity on me and give me a place to live.  Damn humans, sometimes they're so superstitious about black cats anyway!  Racist pigs!

Well, I found this old woodshed behind a house and set up housekeeping.  I could grab a mouse every now and then, but water was a little hard to come by.  No, I didn't get to enjoy all the pickles and ice cream and bananas and peanut butter you guys stuffed yourself on during your pregnancy periods!   I was lucky to find a mouse that hadn't eaten half a box of D-Con!  Girls, you don't know what rough is!

One morning, out they came!  

Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop!   

Yep, half a dozen ... one after the other.  Just imagine giving birth to six at once!   And you think you were sore!  It was like someone had given me a 64 oz. Big Gulp douche with matso balls!  

I rested about two hours, and then I had to find something to eat.  I was famished!  I finally found a garbage can with some halfway decent spaghetti and meatballs in one of them white containers I see you humans carry food in.  

I knew I had to get back immediately to the shed.  I'd set up a bed on some old rags, but I knew the kittens would be scooting around.  And they had!  I had to pick two of them up and set them down with the rest, and then make sure I didn't lay on them as I tried to keep them warm.

The next day, this young girl opened the door of the shed and found me in a very precarious position.  They had all just started feeding time, so none of them was even thinking about letting go.  I couldn't do anything but lay there and hope that she didn't decide to hurt any of us.  

Surprisingly, she left, but came back a few minutes later with a big box.  I'd heard stories about cats being either bagged up or boxed up and tossed in the river, but I just couldn't leave my kids alone.  One by one, she gently picked them up and set them in the box.  Finally, she grabbed me and put me in there, too!  

Would you believe there was a real blanket in the bottom for us all to rest on?   

The next thing I know the lid's on and we're all being carried somewhere.  When she opened it up, I hopped out to find a fenced in patio awaiting all of us.   It wasn't God's country, and was kind of cold at times, but it was better than the woodshed in that she supplied me with water and food most of the time.   

Well, the weeks went on and on, and that patio began to seem like a prison.  Besides that, my six kids were growing so fast!   Always underfoot, always wanting to eat (Breast feeding sucks ... literally!), always wanting something.  God!  If I could’ve just had some peace and quiet.  

Then, one day, my prison keeper puts me in a box and takes me in her car to this real house of horrors.

Damn bitch had my tubes tied!   I had four feet walking pigeon toed!

So, the next day I get back to the house, and half my kids are gone!   Not only am I sore as hell from the operation, but my kids are missing.  Where the hell are my kids???    

Before I can figure it out, the doorbell rings and here comes a couple looking at the remaining three!  They took two of them!  Didn't matter what I said or thought, she just picked them right up and gave them to the couple!   

You might say I was somewhat pissed!

Rich, just tell her I've got a headache!
Just had to get me fixed, didn't you!!!???

The next day found another person coming and taking my remaining kitten.   Still sore, my kids all taken by Child Services and put into foster homes, and I'm stuck on this damn fenced in patio!   Boy, my life had sure gone to Hell in a hand basket!   

So, I'm a little depressed, you might say, and that's when Rich and his wife showed up.  Well, they both seemed nice enough, but I sure wasn't in the mood to be talked to or petted.  In fact, I was pretty damn fed up with life!

Next thing you know, I'm getting put into some sort of cage and taken to their house.  First damn thing I see is this good lookin' male cat named Faletame.   But, this guy's also been to the house of horrors and so he can't do anything even if I wanted him to!   Just what I wanted ... a life of abstinence.  

At least y’all get some when the kids go to bed!   

Anyway, that's my story.  I don’t imagine Rich will let me write here again.  This will probably be the only “Mommy Blog” you’ll see on his site.  Oh, he can be a real Mother _____ at times, but he’s no “mommy”, that’s for sure.  

It’s been real.  You all take care, and when you think you’ve had it bad, just think about me, living with a eunuch that thinks he’s a stud, and a couple of humans that are helping me to get fat!

By the way, how is that ice cream with pickles, anyway?

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2013. All Rights Reserved

The Wait Is Over!

My gosh, has two weeks passed since I last wrote a blog?

(Well, Rich, if you'd look at the date, you'd see how long it’s been, you dummy!)

So, today's question is ... "Does getting older automatically mean you start talking to yourself, and even answering at times?"

No, that's not today's question.  It's just a way to keep from talking about all the medical problems that have hopefully been taken care of.  Hubpages.com has the medical stuff, so if you're interested (see link below), that's the place to visit after you read what is going to be discussed here ... whatever that may be.

One of the greatest inventions ever developed by the Sadists Of America Club Is The Hospital Gown!  
It has provided doctors and nurses laughs for decades!

* I do want to thank all of you for being patient and understanding why I haven’t been visiting a lot of blogs as of late.  When dealing with double and triple vision, reading is close to impossible.  Even now, I have to take it easy for a while.  I overdid it the other day and started getting blurry eyed again.  Give me time and I’ll be back to making my stupid comments again!

Since this isn't a "Mommy" blog, I have to come up with something that will keep everyone interested.   Please, don't take me wrong!  There is nothing wrong with "Mommy" blogs!  In fact, I get a kick out of them.  It's sometimes extremely funny to see others struggling through some of the things they did to their parents years ago.  

These are my oldest daughter's angels (lol).  I have a
feeling the young man may make his grandfather
proud and be a pain in the neck to his teachers
just like his grandfather was!

The truth is that I am of the wrong gender to write a "Mommy" hub.  I guess I could write a "Grandfather" blog, but that almost sounds like something advertised on a porn site (or so I’ve been told).  Besides, Grandfathers are only known for farting, complaining, and falling asleep after eating.  Writing anything else would seem like only embellishments.  (Excuse me, I forgot belching, "Errrrrrp.")

My oldest daughter should probably start writing a "Mommy" hub.  She constantly moans and groans about the various things the kids are doing, and has started filling in as a substitute teacher in the elementary school grades.  So far, she's discussed three of them getting sick and visually reviewing their cafeteria offerings during the afternoon session, one that didn't want to raise her hand in time to make it to the bathroom for normal bowel movement, and one that brought his father's pocket knife to class.  (I guess he wanted to clear the way to the bathroom if he needed to get there quickly.)

Gabriela has just settled down for a long winter's nap,
or at least one until breakfast is served.  

Another topic I could talk about would be my cats.  Gabriela (better known as the “Demon Cat”) has made a 180 degree turnaround.  No longer is she a vicious creature of Satan. She's become a feline garbage disposal.  Gabriela’s getting fatter by the day, as she’ll eat her bowl full of food, and then squeeze Faletame away from his bowl and finish what he's not yet eaten! 

And, she’s requiring more and more love and attention.  She’s recently discovered she can jump to the top of my computer chair and lie against the back of my neck.  It does provide a nice, soft head rest for me, and it’s fairly comfortable.  

Like most men, Faletame (Fa-let-a-me) has changed somewhat since a woman came into his life.  He is still a growler when strangers approach the house, but he's not quite so brave when dealing with his mate.  Actually, he's puzzled how Gabriela has sharper claws and teeth than he, and even though he won't say it, I suspect a little jealous!

Foul Mouthed Faletame is a little upset
over being woke up for a photo session,
but he never will shy from the camera.
Still, I'm sure he'll be vocal about the
interruption when I get done publishing.

Oh, he’ll chase her until she turns, faces him, and hisses!  It's then when he goes into his Woody Allen routine.  “I don’t understand why you’re upset.  My mother used to get upset like that and my father would question her about it.  Never did any good though.  He'd say, "That’s what happens when you’re Jewish and you marry outside the church!"  He always told me never to marry in an alley!  Oh, there's plenty of room for your friends and you don't have to worry about cleaning up the mess, but there's a lot of garbage that comes with it!  There's enough garbage in a marriage that you don't need to bring more into it!“

In addition, Faletame feels somewhat slighted by all of the attention Gabriela demands, and is constantly searching for ways to receive more of it for himself.  His latest trick is to climb up on the table, put his front paws on the chair closest the counter, and reach out to paw you in the back as you’re trying to prepare a meal.  If you don’t turn and give him a pet or two immediately, he starts screaming some of the phrases he’s learned from my wife.  (Modesty forbids repeating them here, but if you've ever heard Al Pacino in the movie Scarface ... )

Anyway, that’s enough for now.  Much more, and you’ll never come back again for fear of being bored to death.  I’ll be back to normal soon (if there is such a thing for me), and exciting topics like German Chocolate cake and earthquakes will make their return.  


Or, maybe I’ll go back and have another operation so I can qualify to write a “Mommy” blog!


“What’s that, Faletame?  You’ve been there and don’t recommend it!  Nuff said!”


PS:  Here's the link to the Hubpages.com article discussed above
http://rcrumple.hubpages.com/hub/Hospital-Treatment-or-Torture

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved