Advertisements
 

The State Of The Shelter Address

Hello my lovelies, it is your most loyal queen here for the annual Christmas eve State of The Shelter Address.

It has certainly been one for the books, and will be.  What with the cheeto in chief trying to start a war, earth falling apart, new animals on the extinction list, more working poor than ever before, and the spin on fucking EVERYTHING trump related would make Linda Blairs head come clean off.

I myself have had a very up and down year as have many of you.  It is weird, in a good way how often our tribulations are similar.  It’s good that way because the sister and brotherhood of the lets save all the unwanted animals from evil doers, can always help each other.

The best thing about 2017 is that 2018 has GOT to be better.  I think we may have hit rock bottom as a species, as a planet, as our little particle of dust in the universe.  Rock. Fucking. Bottom.  Unless of course they really do release a zombie virus to weed out all the old, sick and poor, which at this point I don’t even remotely believe doesn’t exist.  Either that or an actual real purge will become an annual event.  That also would not shock me.

Bunker is real and ready by the way.  The rich can suck it if they think I’m going down without a very serious fight.

The thing I find more amusing than any other thing is math.  They are called the 1 percenters for a reason.  So, either no one can do math or we are all just too chicken shit to say fuck this noise enough already.  I’m not buying your shit, I don’t need that shiny thing whatever it may be.  You’d be amazed at how fast the one percent became a no percent if we started to do shit like that.

My son broke his hand this week.  And due to our evil socialist medical system it cost 20 dollars to get him x-rayed and casted.  God, our medical system sucks.  One of my American friends told me you are all one serious accident away from bankruptcy and that is sad.  except for the one percent who really don’t have a fuck to give.

I hope you are all as well as you can be in your respective situations.  I am okay all things being relative.

I wish peace and happiness to all of you this holiday season and a new year that is better than the old one.

RBMD peacing the fuck out

Advertisements

19 Responses to The State Of The Shelter Address

  1. TrulyUSA says:

    I’m ready to turn the page – Merry Christmas everyone!!!

  2. renaes24 says:

    Merry Christmas to all!

  3. Mama Via says:

    Yeah! Mama tagged in FIRST!

    Good gravy, am I glad to see 2017 come to an end…yet, I’m STILL so afraid of the zombie apocalypse…or massive nuclear winter brought on by a pissing contest by the two greatest juveniles on God’s Green Earth…Season of Peace, please, please PLEASE be upon us now!

    On the home front…some crazy person claiming to be my biological mother is trying to use her wiley 83 year old ways to convince me that she “might be dying”…hum…really? How fast? Nope, not fast enough…seems she’s a little miffed that I love my Auntie V about a gazillion times more than I can tolerate “What’s her name”…I suspect that she might be “giving me the silent treatment” to express her displeasure, but, I really can’t tell the difference between the new “I’m PISSED silent treatment” is all that much different than her normal “apathetic I really don’t give a crap if you live or die silent treatment”…my half brother is begging me to “bury the hatchet”…I said “I’d LOVE to!” I didn’t SAY. “..in her head!” So, just to get even, I burst HIS little bubble by proving that HIS lovely muther was pregnant with HIM while still MARRIED to MY DAD…just as an FYI, to blow a hole in HIS perfect “muther loves me because am a BOY” bubble!

    Papa has recovered from his succession of falls, nothing broken, just bruised, mostly due to blood thinners which cause even mild bumps into major looking bruises that look like you are a survivor of a major car accident…but…as long as he is ok, that’s all that mattered…

    I’m dealing…as many of you are…with missing my sister at Christmastime…December 30 will mark 41 years she’s been gone…the pain is never gone…maybe not as intense, perhaps a little less fresh, but always a tender scar…thank the Gods and Goddesses…or whatever is Supreme in your life….that I have Papa and I have Son…who, btw, has gone to Tampa to share Christmas with his father…the first time in 20 years…good for him…I hope it’s lovely…I told him to “get all the money he could” from the…..(cough…well, um…)

    Speaking of my ex…I’m so VERY pleased that he and his LOVELY, LOVELY wife have stayed married for so very long…it’s SO difficult to maintain a relationship for so long when your wife can’t get through middle school! I’m guessing her talents are less intellectual daytime activities, like working a real job and more toward daily maintenance activities around the house and keeping THEIR children in AA….and, for the record: I don’t blame her for sending him out to the sofa to sleep…once a guy goes over 350, and his wife is still a size 12…”built for comfort” only can go so far…of course, that means buying a new sofa every year at WalMart or BigLots…

    I SHOULD be nicer…and THIS is probably why I got nothing but COAL in my stocking this year…either that, or Santa is mad that I voted for Hillary…

    I wasn’t so rude until Trump came into office…he’s opened an entire new world of disgusting things for me to think about…every time I start to think about Trump…I remind myself that my ancestors survived worse!

    I have more to bitch about…but, it’s Christmas Eve…so maybe I’ll go out into the back yard…repeat my mantra a few thousand times and let the Peace & Harmony of the Season (Festivus, anyone?) wash over my soul…

    If y’all come here, I’ll come here, too…I need a brain physic…or something! Good golly, I am a Scrooge…send the three angels in tonight!

    To everyone…we have a week to get our ducks in a row…we’ve survived a bad year…not everyone has…(like my First Potential Husband, David Cassidy)

    Truly, Gwen, Renae and others who I know I’m forgetting…and my mind went blank…oh…and our Leader Who Controls All Imaginable and Imagined….Kelly! (And, no, I had only 1/4 of a cup of wine, so THAT is NOT the reason!). Sisters (or Daughters) all…I love each of you for your special gifts…we all face troubling times occasionally…what TRULY matters is what we become as we struggle…sure, we can have feelings of anger, but those will dissipate…what keeps us, our families, our towns, states and country strong is our ability to weather ANY storm…and come out BETTER than we were before! If I could do EVERYTHING all over again…with no new knowledge or input…I’d probably do it all as I did the first time…it’s easy to judge 30, 40 or 50 years down the road…but….BUT…I tried my best every day…every day…
    “TO DO THE RIGHT THING”…no one can ask or expect more from you…

    When you look, in the future, at the friends you have, the men & women who represent your government…look for them TO DO THE RIGHT THING…YOU know what’s right…they aren’t your friends if they don’t choose to live right, live true…they don’t represent you when they “do wrong”…

    There are millions of words to describe our problems…but we’ve forgotten:

    “Treat others as yourself”…”Love one another!”

    I love each of you….

    Mama

  4. Mama Via says:

    Why do I only hear crickets in here?

    • reallybigmeandog says:

      No, not the crickets mama. I was wondering that myself. Stats say everybody’s reading I guess just nobody feels like talking.

      • Mama Via says:

        Could be that Mama has her head up her pa-tooty (again)…and no one feels like setting her straight because of the Holidaze bringing Peace & Love?

        Well…I didn’t hear a crowd begging me to NOT tell you the CRAZEE stuff goin down in SkippyTown either……

        we pause now for our annual PS advertisement…
        PS=Public Service

      • TrulyUSA says:

        Now how in the hell can we set you straight when we are all bent and crooked? Hmmmm???

  5. Mama Via says:

    And now, word from my sponsor, Smello-Vision, by UpYourButTV

    This is a real story,, a real, honest-to-goodness-promise-cross my heart, stick a needle in my newly transplanted cornea, . . . .which, as you may remember, I value very much…and, also, by the way, we want to pause to give Thanks to all of the “never to be revealed” families who, during the most overwhelming moment in their lives…the moments, when their loved one is moments away from death…early or late…those critical moments when the Ghosts of Transplants Present, lurking in the hallways of ERs, ICUs and, sadly, NICUs….(we take a moment of silent reflection in memory of the babies of the world…and their mamas….their families…)

    The ghosts of Transplants Present would like to remind you that “One organ donor can save up to eight lives. The same donor can also save or improve the lives of up to 50 people by donating tissues and eyes. More than 120,000 people in the United States are waiting for organ transplants.”

    I was one of those 50 people whose life was greatly improved by the wife of a man who had just died due to “heart failure”. I’d like to take a moment to thank her, that unknown wife…or mother…or children…who said “Yes” when the Ghosts of Transplants Present asked for the “ultimate sacrifice”…the gift of Donated Tissue…my corneal transplant, the restoration of my eyesight was made possible by a fabulous eye surgeon, using donated tissue that someones’s wonderful wife, mother or child said “Yes” to organ donation; I received one valuable cornea…Thank.You. I’ll never be the same.

    And now, on to our story……

    Chapter One…

    Let me tell youse about SkippyTown…

    SkippyTown was invented one day by a deranged woman…I suppose she couldn’t help but BE de-ranged

    (that means she had no Range, as in “Home, Home On The”….or maybe…since I once (literally, ONE time, honest) once shared “Thanksgiving” with her and she “COOKED” Swanson Turkey TV Dinners…(you know, the ones in the tin-foil tray, tasted like cardboard, looked worse…) yes, Swanson’s Brand New Turkey TV Dinners…tastes as good (?) as they look…pop them into a preheated oven set at 350 degrees for 22 minutes …and you, too can enjoy a Thanksgiving Dinner that your estranged daughter will remember for years….and years…and years…and bring up in Therapy appointments for decades…no RANGE required…keep some in the freezer for YOUR next big Holiday Dinner….

    …yes, uh, thank you for the sponsorship…I’m trying to tell a STORY here…please….

    …invented by a deranged woman who, for some unknown reason believed that the world revolved around her. She was the inventor of “Trump-ed up” charges, and “Trumped Up Lies” and was…

    (now just STOP IT! No more “Bunny Trails” into the Forest, getting away from the story!!)

    …believed the world revolved around HER. She was known far and wide for her bodacious Ta-Tas and her bodacious-er (Is that a word?) fibs that hadn’t even a scintilla of truth. Asked in a later interview why she could be asked the same question ten different times in 10 different ways, and still give 12 different answers….said, and I quote….“Because I tell people what they want to hear!” (Well, if THAT isn’t Trumpian, I don’t know WHAT IS!) (Now, YOU STFU, I’m getting thru this Chapter even if I have to sit on my own fingers to do it!)

    ….what they want to hear.” The interviewer came close to asking “What if they WANTED to HEAR the TRUTH?”…But, for the sake of continuing the interview, did not interrupt the “De-Ranged Fantasy” with such an OBVIOUSLY logical question.

    For the sake of continuity, we will call this De-Ranged woman “Skippy” from now on…because, after all, this is a story about her…and why not? Am I right?

    So…Skippy had at least ONE half brother…there more be pouring out of the woodwork, who knows…but THIS one is interesting, because HE comes complete with his VERY OWN RIDICULOUSLY UNBELIEVABLE STORY!!!!!

    So, to keep things confusing, we will call him “Skip”, because, why the fuck not?

    Skips REAL name was “Dorian”…but a) why would a (Supposedly) sane parent would name their boy-child “Dorian” when the kid was hours old, and hadn’t done anything evil to EARN getting picked on all his fuckkin life…I mean REALLY? FUCKKING DORIAN?

    Add to the name DORIAN…that the kid never grew to be “THIS TALL” and couldn’t even ride the Big Rides at Six Flags, Magic Mountain! The poor kid…was the “shortest GIRL in class” and voted “Most Likely to End Up Homo” (I mean, it WAS the 50s…I’m just trying to tell the story as it happened…) We don’t EVEN start being PC until after LBJs 1964 Civil Rights Act! In later news accounts of his life, neighbors said that he was a “Cocky, aggressive man, a mysterious man…”. And others said “You could have predicted what happened to him!”

    (True, all true, every single word…)

    So, why would this “Cocky & aggressive” little man…. (albeit a NICE looking man) Just WHY someone named Dorian would purposefully CHOOSE “SKIP” or “Skippy” as a nickname in the 1950s is beyond comprehension…unless,being “De-Ranged” was a genetic abnormality…or unless it was a contagious disease, easily transmitted and shared, easily contaminating families, especially those families found in the Ozarks, East of the Rockies in Washington State?

    This question may/may not be answered in ‘Chapter 2 – Why Does a Mystery Man Make Headlines”? Or “What the Tailor Knew….”

    Coming soon to a Blog near you…..

    Want to read Chapter 2? Tell Kelly….

  6. reallybigmeandog says:

    OMG mama, I thought I was reading myself for a moment and POINTS. I want chapter 2 right fucking now. Wait, I’m queen right? Queens can demand things right? I demand chapter 2 right now!!

  7. TrulyUSA says:

    I demand chapter 2! And as a resident of the actual by God I live here Ozarks, we are nowhere NEAR the Rockies or Washington. Which I WISH were NOT true, because I would love the Rockies or Washington and then I could laugh at the people in the Ozarks, but alas, I’m the laughee not the laugher — this time! Glad to read you Mama!

  8. Mama Via says:

    Hi, everyone! Well, I sent Kelly some info that I wanted to share with you…and she approved it…so we are trying to remember exactly what we did several years ago when I posted a few blogs for her…she’s excited about this story, and wants me to “press” it, rather than wait for her to take my email, and re-press it…so, we are working that out…

    I’ll give you some background.

    Dorian Royal Broaten, B. 5/16/1940 was my mother’s younger brother. Known as “Skip” to almost all, except very close family.

    His torso was found in Houston, Harris County, Texas on March 5, 1985.

    No.arms. No.legs. No.head. No.feet. No.hands.
    No. Wallet.

    Just his torso.

    He had been dismembered by chainsaw.

    Police followed the only lead they had. The pants the torso wore.

    I was with him the day he picked up those slacks from the tailor. Skip was always in a hurry to get to the next place he needed to be. He never relaxed, he was always in a hurry. And, he had a HUGE roll of $100 bills in his pocket. I remember that he tried on the slacks, and the tailor made the final marks for the hem. Very professionally, the tailor said “They’ll be ready on Monday.” Skip slid three crisp $100s off the roll…and quietly said “They will be ready in an hour.” “Certainly, Sir!” Came the reply…I almost fell out…that was about $700 is 2016 dollars! Without another word, Skip turned and left…I followed behind…

    I remember going to a lovely little upscale restaurant…he was very self-assured…he knew what he wanted, and refused to accept less. After dinner, we picked up the slacks, perfectly hemmed by the tailor himself who had made the slacks for my Uncle.

    Those pants became the ONLY clue to Skip’s identification. The tailor identified his stitches on the hems, the way the cuffs were made. He recalled the night that my Uncle had tipped him $300 to get the work done that very night.

    I thought I might introduce some clues, introduce some of the possible killers over the next few days…maybe get our juices going on a real live murder mystery…and let our minds go wild with the possible suspects…because…the REAL LIFE SUSPECTS are a MOTLEY CREW…..

    Look for the next Blog Post…
    Are his sisters activities stirring problems with the MOB?
    What BIG decision does MAMA have to make?

    Stay tuned…

  9. Mama Via says:

    Be sure to post your thoughts and theories and ideas as we go….

  10. TrulyUSA says:

    I’m entertained — yay! This is fun Mama, I have no idea why Skippy ended up that way but I can’t wait to find out!!!

  11. Mama Via says:

    Hi, everyone…happy fuckin almost new year…

    Chapter 2 will have to wait a while…

    Boo-boo, my French Bulldog is sick….and I don’t know what’s all going on right now…

    I let him out to go potty day before yesterday…he was totally normal…

    He didn’t come back as soon as I THOUGHT he should…so I went to look for him…not drowned in the pool, not over on the left side of the house where he usually “goes”…well, maybe I just didn’t SEE him inside…I went all thru the house and can’t find him…not hiding under daddy’s desk, or in his crate, or in the pantry, or under the billiards table, or out in the garage, or in ….I’m calling his name frantically!!!!!!

    Back outside…not on the left side of the house, not by the pool equipment, not by or under the wagon…it’s (relatively) cold and WET out there…he HATES getting his feet wet! Not over next to the gate…wait! Over on the right side…there is is! Just laying there…on his side…not moving…

    I call…he doesn’t even MOVE! I run to him and snatch him up…he is shivering…shaking (?) and playing “dead dog”…I never taught him “Dead Dog”!

    Run to the dryer…towels are just finishing…I grab a big warm one and wrap him up in it….his eyes are really weird looking…he looks “dazed and confused”…or “stunned” maybe…

    This is not a normal Frog Dog…he normally ISNT Velcro…he is independent…but all he wants to do is lay on me in the warm towel.
    Not interested in food…only took water because I kept pushing a small bowl of water under his lips…then got the big syringe thingy I use for Thanksgiving Turkey and syringed some water into his mouth…and he swallowed…I’ve been doing THAT every hour or so…has no interest in going “outside”…

    My vet is “Closed” for the Holiday Week…I don’t blame him! But, is available for emergencies…Boo doesn’t have a temperature…his breathing is “normal”…he finally goes to sleep on mommies lap..

    We don’t have any toxic plants in the yard…it’s been months since we’ve had any treatments put on the grass or shrubs…no half eaten food anywhere…he isn’t barking…I’m clueless…

    He slept most of the day…

    Yesterday morning, we could tell that he was feeling a bit better…went WITH him outside…his BM Is nothing but “colored water” and smells to high heaven…

    I can’t get a “stool sample” because it’s “water”…not a lump in it…
    I rush him to the vet…

    They can’t get a sample either…with their little gathering device…

    Vet says he thinks Boo has had a seizure of some kind…Boo is still being a little Velcro Dog…..if I slip off to the bathroom, he comes in and sits on my feet,…still not really back to his old self…

    I’m having to keep an eye on him for another “incident”..

    He thinks that Boo’s “bad dreams” that he has are seizures too..

    I’ll keep you updated..

    Mama

  12. Twister says:

    Oh, poor little Boo! A stroke? Diabetes? Colon issue? Just guessing. He just wants his Mama. Heart hugs!💓

Varmt News Network

It's the Internet.

peskyvarmt

Just another WordPress.com site

Asleep in Left Field-My Life

4 out of 5 Friends recommend this WordPress.com site

Out in left field

(Totally fictional) Drama Queen Stories

CALLS FOR JUSTICE

sometimes, there are monsters walking amongst us

Varmt News Network

It's the Internet.

peskyvarmt

Just another WordPress.com site

Asleep in Left Field-My Life

4 out of 5 Friends recommend this WordPress.com site

Out in left field

(Totally fictional) Drama Queen Stories

CALLS FOR JUSTICE

sometimes, there are monsters walking amongst us

%d bloggers like this: