As much as we appreciate the meals (feeding us shit sandwiches and telling us it is steak) you provides us with on a regular basis, we are getting damn sick of them. Some of us are intelligent enough to know the difference.
I understand you have a tough job. I must be so hard to find ways to enrich yourselves, friends and family by creating new positions and getting rid of the “unneccesary ones”. Really, who needs lunchworkers, custodians, and teachers? Maybe you can just throw buckets full of food on the gym floor and let the kids fight for it like animals. It will be good training to help them appreciate the shit sandwiches you’ll be feeding them when they grow up.
As someone who has been lucky enough to attend one of your “we’ll pretend like we give a fuck what the community thinks” meetings in the past, I’ll let you in on a secret. You aren’t fooling anyone. We know that it is all feel good PR and that you will do whatever the hell you want regardless of what we think or feel. You already have your minds made up before you even let the community know you are having a meeting but you want us to feel like we made a difference. Unfortunately, alot of the times it works.
In closing, if you are going to constantly bend us over at least use some lube. Shit, tweak a nipple, give a reach-a-round, something to make us feel better about handing over our tax dollars and children to the most greedy, and selfish bunch of bureaucratic fuck stains I’ve ever seen.
Hugs and Kisses,
East Bluff Barbie

Today is my middle son’s birthday. He is 10 years old. Since I shared the story of my first son being born, I’ll share his birth too.

I, once again, was past my due date. Having already had a child 15 months prior I knew what to expect. I had a different doctor because the first one made douchebags look like wonderful people. I had decided that I didn’t want to be induced. I wanted to do it myself. I had a doctor visit and I wasn’t even dialated. My doctor was going out of town so he wanted to give my a hormone insert and induce me the next day. I wasn’t thrilled but I wanted him to deliver my child (we didn’t know the sex of this one). The plan was to go the Methodist, get my hormones to dialate me and the next morning I would be induced. My son had other plans.

I get to Methodist and they get me settled in my room. The nurse comes to check me before they give me my hormones and I had started to dialate. They call my doctor, who happens to be in a nearby town covering their emergency room. He said to skip the hormones, so I don’t dialate too fast. Well, the resident decided that he was just going to induce me. I refused. So silly little resident tells me that he will just call my doctor and tell him. I told him that the doctor and I had a deal that I would be induced in the morning and if I wasn’t progressing I would be induced then but I would be damned if he would induce me now. He called my doctor. He came back to my room with his head hung low and told me he wasn’t going to induce me. Ha! Victory is mine! So I keep on dialating and contracting and Brad has to leave. He had to cover someone else’s shift at work so he had to basically show up and then I would call and he would come back to the hospital. I fell asleep and when I wake up, no contractions. Shit! Now I have to be induced in a few hours. I get up to go to the bathroom and the mother of contractions start. The nurses are a bit concerned and I call Brad. The nurses keep asking me if I am alone and I keep telling them Brad is on his way. I am getting irritated. Brad finally shows up and I am in some heavy duty labor but where is my doctor? He is still out of town covering the emergency room. Finally, doctor is here, Brad is here, I am ready. No I am not. I still have a half of a centimeter to dialate. So my doctor decides to take a quick walk, since he has been up all night, to get him pumped up for delivering my kid. Once again, my son has other plans. Suddenly, I finish dialating and he decides he is coming, ready or not. So they are paging my doctor, a resident is trying to hold him back and all I want to do is push and get it over with (no epidural this time either). My doctor rushes in and basically catches my son. I had some problems in my pregnancy and didn’t gain alot of weight and didn’t get very big so when they announced that he was 9 pounds and 3 ounces the doctor almost had a stroke.

Now since we didn’t know the sex of our child we didn’t have a name picked out like with our first child. So here we are with another little boy when inspiration hits my husband. He wants to name him Elwood after the Blues Brothers because we already had a Jake. I had a fit. There was no way I was naming this child Elwood. The nurses all agreed with me. So we “discussed” names during my whole stay at the hospital. We didn’t finally settle on one until about an hour before my release. Now that my son is older and has seen the Blues Brothers he is pissed that his name isn’t Elwood. He has told me that he is going to get it changed. I’m hoping he’ll out grown this but knowing him I doubt it. So Happy Birthday Elwood!

Tomorrow is my middle son’s birthday. We have a tradition that I cook whatever the birthday boy wants for dinner. Usually it is pizza, meatball subs, and fun things like that. My son, who is picky, has become a fan of the show Bizarre Foods on the Travel Channel. So for his dinner he wants something bizarre. At first he wanted chicken feet. Then he seen the hearts and gizzard variety pack at Kroger. I am not going to dare tell him I seen pork stomach at Super Walmart! Hopefully I can talk him into something that I actually know how to cook. Be thinking of me tomorrow night as you eat your normal dinners.

I just have a simple observation to share. I have noticed this alot lately.

If everyone you come in contact with your entire life is crazy, then more than likely, it is you who is indeed crazy.

I have been disturbed by the story about the douchebag boyfriend kicking a three year old in the groin and slapping him in the face. I have three boys and I understand being frustrated. I know there have been several times when I just could not for the life of me understand why they did the things they did but never once did I have any need or desire to kick them in the crotch. Then when I thought I could not get any more pissed at this fuck stain, his grandmother comes out in support of him. On WEEK’s website, she keeps carrying on and on about how he financially supports the child’s mother. I understand she is his grandmother but I really don’t give five shits about how he supports the mother of the child. Financial support doesn’t mean jack unless there is emotion support, kindness and love. So, with all do respect, grandma can blow it out her ass. We’ve heard it all before. If he was so loving there wouldn’t be a three year old in the hospital.

For anyone looking to relocate and a dream job, I may have found something:

WINSOR, An 88-year-old man is offering $14 an hour for an unusual twice-a-week job — drinking buddy at a Winsor, England, pub.

I’ll gladly drink beer for $14 an hour. Hell, I’ll drink beer for $5 an hour. I could be onto something. Maybe a new business. They have the people who come into a senior’s home and keep them company and do errand/chores. I could take seniors out bar hoppin’. Oh, I love it when a plan comes together.

I was given an aromatherapy gift set and it made me put my entire life into perspective. I’m not going to a be a ragin’ bitch anymore. Instead I will meditate and drink a cup of tea.

I’m going to become a trail advocate. I’ll put on some spandex shorts and strap myself to the rail line. Having somewhere, other than parks and your own neighborhoods, to walk is more important than a viable rail service anyday.

I’m going to start an urban outreach program called Hugs for Thugs. I’ll wander the streets of Peoria hugging wayward youth. Hugs not Drugs!!

I’ll quit pointing out stupidity and hypocrisy because I’m sure these people can’t help it. They know not what they say or do. Instead I will give love and kind words.

I’m sure the world will be a much better place now! Peace to you my brothers and sisters.

Last Monday I was driving down Glen between Sheridan and Knoxville. I noticed a number of house did not have trash cans. They had bags of trash sitting on the curb. Didn’t I just get a blanket warning about this, even though it did not apply to my household?

I guess when you live North of War Memorial you don’t get dogs, cats, raccoon and other critters in your trash. It must be all sunshine and rainbows. I’m sure name brand litter must be far less offensive than litter that comes from Aldi products. It must be delightful to find a Tampax brand tampon applicator fresh from someone’s trash as opposed to a store brand one. Maybe you can make a craft out of it and give it to someone you love.

Here is a dirty little secret the city doesn’t want you to know about: People north of War Memorial do shit and guess what? Occasionally it stinks.

Tonight we were eating pizza for dinner and I noticed that Wayne’s World was on. It was almost over but I thought the kids might enjoy it. I change the channel and the boys start complaining. I tell them that this is a movie from when I was younger. My middle son, the sarcastic smart ass of the bunch, says “It isn’t in black and white, is it?”. Thanks, son. I’m so glad I spent all that time pushing your 9 pound 3 ounce body out without an epidural!

Last year the city declared that Code Enforcement was going to be cracking down on the East Bluff. East Bluff residents were informed that we would only receive one warning and after that we would be ticketed without mercy and the tickets would increase in severity. Those of us who take care of our property welcomed this, in hopes some of the problem houses and slumlords would be held accountable. Then we all got our warning letters.

Code Enforcement decided to send warning letters to our entire neighborhood. It stated that the city only gives one warning every two years and that tickets would be issued for the following violations:
Garbage cans without lids
Using plastic bags for garbage containers
Unlicensed/inoperable vehicles
Litter in yards and alley
Cans left in alley for more than 24 hours after garbage pickup
Tree limbs in alley or yard
Dog feces not being picked up daily
If these violations don’t pertain to your property then disregard this letter but use for future reference. You have until the date listed to fix violations.

Alot of us got pissed. Instead of the Code Enforcement officer getting out of the car and addressing the problems, we all get a generic letter addressed to “Occupant” and “To whom it may concern”. We called Code Enforcement and talked to the supervisor. She said that if our letter didn’t have anything marked that we didn’t have to worry. So Code Enforcement just wasted money sending all of us letters that didn’t mean anything?
We are all concerned that we all having warnings on our property for the next two years for nothing. The supervisor said that wasn’t the case. I imagine none of us will know for sure until we get our first ticket. Then we are informed that Code Enforcement is not required to give a warning. The city says we get a warning yet Code Enforcement says that isn’t necessarily the case. Who do we believe?

I think this will turn out the way these crack downs usually do. Those of us who take care of our property will end up with ticket for an ill fitting trash can lid or a single piece of litter in our yard because we are responsible. We will throw away the litter and pay our ticket. The people who just don’t care and the slumlords with their eyesore properties will continue to operate business as usual.