Christmas Video Day, and now I shall sleep.

Fine holiday, but I look exactly how I feel and this is not a good thing. I have hair standing in directions that defy gravity and think it’s comical. I am too tired to care.

All families were wonderful, nice, and extremely weird in how they all got along with no back biting when that person wasn’t there. Who are these pod people? I’ll keep them!

We were given shit that we don’t even know where to place, so we are forced to build a wing onto the garage and house it. When you get something and say “hm, what the fuck is it?” and the giver doesn’t even know….. it’s a wing addition item. In time, it’s purpose may be discovered.

Although Mr. Morgan and I decided NO gifts, it’s turned into many gifts, leaving me to be the scrambling asshole bartering for used gifts. I all but filled my pockets with paperclips one day in a frantic struggle of OH SHIT.

He purchased a necklace that I squinted at, being an Avon girl (and no qualms about wearing cheap shit, I’m far too reckless to risk the good stuff on) but he neglected to take the tag off the underbelly of the pillow cushioning. I asked if it had been on sale. He said no. I gasped and gulped a bit deeper pissed as hell he broke the no gift rule. It’s nothing too flashy, but it’s very pretty, and thoughtful.

He also bought hair rollers because “I know my girl likes her hair curled!” and beamed. Did I post that already? Well he did.

At this writing the Christmas video is only half loaded and it’s after ten. Hit refresh if it gives you shit. Or comment to tell me it’s giving you shit. Family who isn’t pictured in my video, it’s not a slight, it’s actual respect for privacy and not …. Just not. Please watch to the end, I GOT my Soldier Boy moment, but I had to work for it. My nephew almost got and ass whipping because he said he wanted money to do it. I said I’d do it on my own, he thought I was bullshitting. He later asked “Really? You would have?” I said well ya? He said he’d be embarrassed and I told him it takes many years being a fuck up (in different terms) in this family to sluff EVER being embarrassed again. No my child, I would not have been embarrassed. He falters a bit in his routine, but props for the attempt. Trust me, the kid knows it, he just let the audience get to him. More soon…. Enjoy.

-DM

Pretty Much Ready

Getting there! I'm sitting in pigtails and wobble legs from the soilder boy dance. When it's included (hopefully) in my Christmas video, don't even laugh that it looks all simple. I'm not saying it's too tricky, but I am working along side a youngin' and it's routine to watch for what the rest of your crew is doing. No clue how it'll turn out. I of course want perfection, but can't kid myself, no pun intended. All I know is that MY routine is solid, but I'm confident he's going to fuck me up. I can't let him falter alone after all.

I have Mr. Morgan's football jersey and 'tuff gear for us both, will be a good time. I think. For all I know he'll get shy and just stand there as my dumb as does the soldier boy alone. If he's anything like me, which I used to believe he was, he'll own the show.

I imagine everyone is swamped, it's an odd time of rest in this house. Nothing left to wrap, laundry clean and kitchen dish free. Both humans washed, one Russian with a new haircut and a spotted creature slumbering silently.

The Mister is hit with a cold, but handling it well, while I retreat from his every advance. I am happy to bring anything he wants but I don't care to touch. He pouted this morning over being starved yet "too weak" to manage a meal. I cooked, for about an hour to meet his "but I'm SICK!" needful foods. That mopey husband countenace entered the kitchen like an orphan, and fed himself, lips smacking for two or three rounds of helpings. The dogs always get Sunday breakfast too, but never thank me since I'm not the one who served it to them. They yawn a ragged "who are you?" often.

Off for a few days of the festivities.

-DM

Mini-Mas

The newest of my herd! She's very handsome!!! The giant Santa candle baffles me a bit because, who sets Santa on fire without a bit of nervousness. He will be re-gifted because I can't deal with the karma induced guilt, and just looking at him waiting to burn freaks me out a bit.

I managed a fuck load of shots today at our company party. More for the video, which is already streching into the 3 minute mark before any family shots and more importantly.... the Soilder Boy video. I informed my sister to tell said nephew to get his ass ready to practice, there will be no fucking around. Soldier Boys don't play, we are strictly business.

I have some gifts from Mr. Morgan, because I am not above throwing myself to the floor and begging, stomping, or otherwise being a pain in the ass for a present. I flop faster than a caught fish when told no about getting a present early. Those with children have seen this behavior. I am the master of fit throwing, thus how I can gauge a reasonable fit from a bullshit fit, and have called it as I see it in the past while the parent simply called it bullshit on either level. There are times that a fit is completely called for, I will defend the child if I see it. Most times, the parent is right, but every so often, that kid is well warranted to freak the fuck out. I'm the one in the corner with my lips pursed and a finger up saying "ya know...... kid has a point...."

Short of electricity and poison, it's good to let kids fuck up and learn. One good mistake and they won't do it again. See there, I'm not so bad. No one fear me guarding your kids, my sister can testify that my nephew as a toddler wanted into everything hazardous, and while I watched from the background with a tilted head, hoping he'd learn the word NO, I never let the child die, or eat dish detergent, of which he really wanted.

We agreed no gifts, yet in they come. Yes. I feel like the asshole who didn't know, in case you were wondering as I got him nothing and have been bartering for presents to fill his giant stocking. I've done well actually.

In closure, I won the bet with the Grandmaster today over how long our company lunch would run and wore my winning dollar in the rim of my hat like a pole dancer who had been tipped. It was a proud moment. Not sure, but likely after the holiday for my next entry. I could get bored though... just stay tuned and comment often.

To Pogo... what the fuck was that comment? Lyrics to something? Let me in on the secret, miss you and hope you got your present by now.

-DM

Dregs.

Nice, up to seven comments last entry, two from people I didn't think hung around. I tend to presume all people have the same sick internet addiction that I do. A very nice surprise.

I'm working on the Christmas video, but Christmas has to happen first so it's really in it's infancy. We shot the family photo tonight, Simon looks absolutely drunk.... and I'd have had it re-shot but that it made me laugh so many. Yes, we fed our yorkie Patron and dressed him up. Rather, Mr. Morgan has no patience for a shoot.

When I post the family photo, do understand that it's two takes, one with he and Delilah, and one with Simon and myself. Clip cut, done and we are all sitting pretty. I'll remind of this when I post the video.

So how has the holiday gone for you all? I mailed a ton of gifts that have either not arrived or not been acknowledged. Both concepts suck. Mr. Morgan went shopping today for those who didn't have gifts and came home with shit HE wanted to play with. I was checking age levels and trying to figure out who wouldnt kill themselves by consuming a Mr. Potato Head, or play-dough. I picked the best I could and signed his name to all the weird shit. I am not taking credit for the glares from mothers. MY gifts, were age appropriate. He even mentioned that if I couldn't find a home for one purchase, that we could play with it. I admit to saying I wanted in on that play party.

Hang in there gang, I know everyone else is as crunched as we are. We can do it with a bit of humor and .... well.... a bitten tongue.

-DM

R&R

Mr. Morgan’s company par-tay was last night. Wanna guess how we feel today? Would you also like to guess how many times I had to type that before getting it right as my brain is jello and my fingers don’t seem to like jello.

I’ll save you the guess work – we are TORE UP. I made it back with both shoes, but am down a sock. A good sock. A sock that can never match anything because it’s covered in Christmas trees. So really, I’m down two socks. Mister woke up with a giant headache, both shoes gone – not missing – gone, and a skid mark red patch that is actively scabbing from his tailbone to lower back.

I have a similar patch of fun in the same area but it’s not nearly as impressive. Mine came from assuming a chair was under me upon sitting down. Assuming not only made an ass out of me, it made my ass hate me instantly. There was no chair. I always seem to fall when I’m wearing the most unforgivable falling-on-your-ass outfit, and always when it’s dead silent so that when I go down it’s a massive ruckus and assumed the drunk bitch is at it again. With honesty, I was the most sober person in the place, except for Randall who is Jewish. Why that matters, I don’t know…… I just know when he’s offered a drink, that’s what he says “No, I’m Jewish.”

As he was our chauffeur of the evening, we were content his religious intentions.

I prepared my camera for many photos, many candid shots, but it did not happen. All I have is ass burn, a bag of loot and a photo of the parking lot from our hotel room.

Mr. Morgan’s receptionist always gets little trinkets and what nots for the tables, makes it super pretty. She phoned me at work last week and advised me to get there early and bring a big bag so I could snatch everything. So I did, and the bag was all but a suitcase with a shoulder strap, only to see her come flying over saying “Not YET, at least let people arrive” as my hands were full as could be with the wares, my bag bulging and garland dangling from my mouth because I had no where else to put it. Later in the meal, naturally I had the mentioned fall, and all that loot came spilling out of my bag and rolling onto the floor. All could do was say “But she told me to take all this, I swear!!!” Either way it could not have been the best way to present myself, yet very typical. One day I will stop being shocked at the things I do, and their consequences.

The men were gone for a long time, and I sat quietly by myself mostly – ya know, to guard the bag. I later found out they were at the bar then play fighting outside. Somewhere in between those two activities my Mister, and others became heavily inebriated and there was indecent that resulted in Mr. Morgan having no shoes today. He also has no bank card, but he thinks he knows where he left it – it’s last seen location being “Hey everyone, drinks on me!”

Got back to the room after an episode I won’t mention, and we had two nice queen beds. Seemed great to me, we could each stretch out, yet within twenty seconds Mr. Morgan was snaking his way into my bed. Not to cuddle or touch or anything except pass out, I guess I should think it cute or flattering that he’s so used to laying next me …. but damn, wasted a perfectly good bed! I believe had I moved to the other bed he’d have followed in a sleepy daze like one of the dogs. Oh we’re going here now? Ok.

So we’re home, grumpy, and grunting things to each other that in our heads is english and when spoken… is very much so not. The dogs are trembling like they were beaten the whole night we were gone and shadowing our every move. It’s quite obnoxious. I don’t know if Delilah needs to see the vet again, she’s just been acting funny and the only thing I could tell the vet of her symptoms is she’s shaking and won’t stop following me. Off to nap and put a heating pad on my ass. Tis the season.

-DM

We will rock you!

Merry.

This post is about our kids, though I have none (short of Ediberto), yet I have so many. We need to step it up, plain and simple. They are out of control and getting the upper hand in this life, stop them now. I really believe it's why the crimes are being commited, although some can't be helped but I think most could have been. I don't really know what to say other than kids need more attention, and a strict upbringing of right and wrong. Constant monitoring. I'll be seeing my little family spawns soon and fuck if I won't point out a defect. My nephew an I will be performing the Soldier Boy dance for the family, because... that kid of all kids really melts me and I'd do anything for him. He gets me, but is going to that age where I don't know if I get him. Either way if he's down to Soldier Boy with me.... rock! That's my boy, only child I know that I'd take into my house unconditionally, we just have an understanding I can't readily verbalize. I guess we don't expect too much from one another, so it is just roll time and he has good fun with me because I don't ask much of him short of being respectiful. That's easy.



Soldier Boy Below....... we will be ALL over this dance, I already am, because I don't grow up and refuse to.



-DM

We'll be rocking it all.

-DM

Alvin!

To remind of last year. I'm all about Hat-strav Winter... no time for else, see below post too please.



-DM

Who knows the Muffin Man

We all loved you Zelds. You pissed on me and I didn't care in the least, nor did you.

Nothing too tempting to report other than most gifts have arrived. Every box I get is followed by a trail of dogs who somehow think it is for them, if not now, later. My door is closed while I'm away. I mailed the remaining MRE package to an office associate, who brought us muffins recently and wouldn't (couldn't?) stop raving to my boss about me. Nice nice, and yet I reward this behavior with an MRE? See explanation below. I really find it hilarious, and guess he will too. Be better if my boss said nice things to me, but I'll take what I can get. Really, all I do is make him laugh, so if iit gets us muffins and praise.... shit, well done chap.

----

Hi ________

So I was sitting at home staring at the hideous piles of wrapped things I once called my money. Every year I make up Christmas packs for the staff, just little trinkets and what not to kick off the holiday.

Then…… /beat, …… word…. got …. out. Worse than a sewing circle, people began to clamor for bags of junk that retail at 10 bucks each tops. And let me tell you – they are ready to fight for the damned things as I watch with great interest and start a bucket for the betting money on who is going to scrap the best. My tidy list of 6 went to 12, and this year 24….. with people still stomping feet and sulking for not making the cut.

Was talking to ______________ earlier, and if you recall that poor chicken got a pedicure this last convention and took up with a rash I’m told was formidable. How can’t I make it up to her, she spoils me with chocolate, just doesn’t know that when I say “It’s my pleasure, just get my chocolate.” That I am kidding, I don’t eat that stuff. I only had one kit left and thought oh no….. ______!

So I wandered the house, dogs following me like a piece of cheese because to them….. that’s really all I am, a walking vending machine, and there it was…… in the corner. The room went dark and a spotlight appeared to illuminate it.

No shit, it’s an MRE (meals ready to eat). I thought to myself, he once fed us, let’s feed him! I can’t lie and say it’s not a smart ass gift, but I was out of the good packs!

Nothing in there is …. Ok back up. I almost said nothing in there is gross, but I was meaning contaminated or otherwise compromised. Frankly it’s all gross on varying levels and left over from one of my antics (remember I write for a website because _____ (MY JOB NAME)____ doesn’t make me All I Can Be) where I ate those vile packs for 3 days. I planned for a week of nothing but MRE’s but after 3 days of it my body was leaving threatening notes on my pillow and I had to call the experiment off. My crew agreed we had gotten sufficient footage, and my intestines thanked them deeply.

They really aren’t so bad, and good to have in a pinch. Best I could do, my dogs and husband think it’s reasonable but they are known liars (one of the dogs speaks only Russian), and I suspect they simply want the thing out of the house. My Mister grins every time something leaves the property, only to frown when I come home sacking in twice as much.

So MERRY CHRISTMAS to you and your family!

---

To anyone who hasn't received a pack yet, you didn't ask, or it's in the mail.

-DM

First Snow 2007

Read this through.

I hadn't been thrilled over it, it's snow it's cold and it makes my hair wet, but Moon wanted to go on a frolick so we did. (click for bigger if like.... good shots)


I have become a cat. More on this after. I know this doesn't look like I've climbed a tree, but it took one persons' body weight to unhinge me from the branches once I got up there. A shoe came off, yelps were bounding .... all the side effects of being stupid were present.


I know, looks like I could have just hopped down. While I am a great hopper, you'd have to invesitgate the larger view (can click) to see a branch 'tween legs thrawting this hop to freedom. Seriously, it took contorting, screamings "My legs don't do that! I'm going to pop out a hip!" to get me out of that simple tree. I since have named it Tricky Tree.

Christmas doings are fine. Sort of. I have lists, then I have lists FOR the fucking lists, and lists of why I hate all lists. Mostly because my room looks like this:

If it doesn't look bad to you, just take my word for it. I can't walk in this fucker without getting annoyed enough to contemplate putting it all into a woodchipper and saying piss to it all.

Now for the story of the "other" climbing thing. /had to take off my coat as we just home from Chili's. Gross, so was midway blogging when we left.

SO.... earlier in the week I had to pick up some eating thing my nephew was peddling for ... prizes? Pretzel dogs at 21 bucks a box of six. I was chill with it thinking these fuckers came with super-man capes and what not. My mom had been holding them for me and the other lady at work who participated. For like weeks. I'm prompt that way.

I remembered my mom has a surplus of ... pretty much everything. but namely little gift bags. I asked if I could get at some, knowing I was going to anyhow. Anyone else ever feel that way when you walk into the house formerly yours... it's all fair game? I've been caught with a HUH look often. "But but... it's mine?"

She's said I could have the bags.

She smokes in the garage now, I blink on that but later for it, she went inside to get the pretzel dog bounty. In that time I had climbed her ... guessing 50 grand car ..... and was dangling, legs wrapped around a rafter, my hand reaching out like the starved, for the box of tiny bags that were just out of my reach. You have to imagine the sight of someone grappling with fingers curling and veins pumping for something out of stretch by an inch. I meant to include I was in a long skirt. This was indeed a typical, yet sad, DM sighting.

My mother comes back out with the pretzel dogs, takes one look at me up there, sets them down and lights a smoke with an expression of remote interest.

"Whatcha done there?"

While she knew well that I climbed something I could not UN-climb, she didn't know I just used her car to do it. She doesn't ask HOW I do t he shit I do, it's useless, just looks on and wonders what she gave birth to.

She enjoyed her smoke while watching me straddle the beam, cocking her head with curiousity. I was all collected, as though I'd planned it all out that way, we had a conversation. But let's not play that mothers' don't know when a kid is bullshitting. She knew I was stuck.

I've been asked if she was worried.... No, no she wasn't. she'd call 911 had I fell, but worry about some bullshit I've pulled? Lol absolutely not. She has met me, so no. After finishing a smoke She did bring over a latter, raise a brow and ask if I'd found the bags. I couldn't be more of my mothers daughter. If I saw some dangling broad in my rafter I might enjoy a full smoke too while I watched. Or it's simply fun to enjoy the preview of the dumb shit I do. All I can say is I really wanted those god damned bags.

I am my mother in every way, but times ten. scary. Holidays make you think, and every time I think of my mother I just grin and wish she would have let loose so much more.... although I suspect she did before we were old enough to see her settle down. Never settle down my readers, never. Be wild and play every day of your life!!!

More soon, we shoot the Morgan Family Photo tomorrow. I've warned them all and I've never seen a house scatter so fast. Just a photo, lighten up people or no laundry or food. Ever. Tomorrow is Sunday Breakfast..... I'll get my way.

-DM

- This video is for you Mama, I am just like you and proud to be. I know you worked so hard for us, but you did find time, and you are my favorite person ever. Never seen a bigger cheerleader for children than you were for us, I hate that you had to struggle so much to get us to the lives we have. It's not unaapreciated (even though you don't read this website), I love you so so much, and admire your strength. Your girls imherited it too, in our ways... if nothing else be proud for that. Look at us, one is artistic to a fault and the other is all about her family and children. You did good. More than good, and I love you. I think of you everytime I hear this song, but as older... I embrace the "My boy is just like me" lyric." That is a compliment. I look at the pictures I take, the things I've done and I have to credit you for letting me be me, you never once curbed a single thing we did to form ourselves. For a moment, all readers ... my mother made this possible, and by a fun fun breach birth let you all read what I write. a little biting, but life is what it is, I really am fond of being a little mom, even if it's cold, defensive, and otherwise, it what she knows and how she raised two children alone. SO... Let's us sing.

-DM

Expired Milk Cartons

Completely exhausted these days. So tired that Mr. Morgan and I stare lovingly at the prospect of each other then admit defeat and walk away with a knowing nod. I'm blaming the dismal weather because I have nothing else, we are just too tired. Even my overpriced "you'll NEVER wrinkle" cream is having a laugh at the bags under my eyes. Ever seen yourself after shower, hair wrapped in the towel girl turban and was forced to step back and say DAMN! You turn around, hoping the second review will be kinder and it's not. Jaw drops and the offensive item just deepens to mock your denial.

I also blame holiday food, which hasn't been shy or forgiving.

Delilah made her off Zoo debut on Dogs With Cones. Google it up, it's funny and my girl didn't mind me showing her cone proudly.

I sat tonight feeling sorry for myself for a long time, playing those songs that are guaranteed to produce a tear, and you play them anyhow. Why I'm sorry for myself would be redundant, and I think I am allowed to self wallow every so often, instead of the stiff upper lip junk that everyone sees through anyhow. When in doubt on how to reply, blink until it comes to you.

All the update I have today, a bit sad no bites on my Christmas packs. I said don't be shy. Just ask in english, a recent commentor spammed in some language I'm not sure exists, so I wouldn't know how to address a package. Hit me up for real, dmorgan255@yahoo.com. Who doesn't want STUFF????? Insane to pass up stuff. It's stuff! Stuff for you, stuff to get!

-DM

Rinse Repeat, Because I like it a lot

In the spirit of remembering last year.....



I really was cool and happy until I saw Filbert IV, and yeah I teared up. Piss on any nay sayers, he was a seriously cool ass fish who lived with me... and more so Bosslady for about 4 years. That fish deserves props for not flopping himself out of the tank in an act of suicide.

Shit I notice, one year later from when I made this video are many. Foremost, the body language between Mr. Morgan and I can't be denied, we hold or touch eachother automatically, which is a great indication looking on it months later.

I am pleased I took the shots I did for that video. Time too short to pass a single instant. Forever young my loves.

Anyone who wants in my my Christmas packs.... hit me. Don't be shy, I have plenty.

-DM

Photog!

Me caught napping with a very weird arm.

Morgan family Christmas. This is pretty much the first run since both bitch ass kids and husband need to be chased/bathed/groomed before I can really call it a good portrait. Each of them are scowling at me, and I'm fine with it.

Take One!

Take Two! (We call this Simon Sandwich)
Take Three! Better if the little one didn't look like a dog-zombie.
Take Four!Take Five!
Take Six. Continued Disinterest. Except me.... I know how this works. This is a family sized "pig-in-a-blanket" No one knows how to fucking smile. In fact the majority of them won't even acknowledge the camera. I'm a ham.... I love being photo'd long as there is no chins.


I have given up.

But alas Mr. Morgan got these shot of the tree, because he's obviously steady. I shit myself when I saw them. I swear this is EXACTLY what it's like to look through a shattered cornea.

The refractions are just like this, and I have spent over a year trying to explain what it is like to other people to have an eye that does this all day, and all night. I ... falter for words that he captured it and I could show you all what I see through every day and why I won't drive far, and why I miss appointments or ask for a lift to lunch.

On drugs, that is a good time, but for life? Class action baby. I elate that I can finally share what my vision in one eye is like, so rare can you precisely give a tangible example of something medical. I'm happy the eye itself doesn't look how it did then, so that alone is a gift. I look normal, but I'm not. Which THANKS I wasn't clumsy enough with two good eyes right? Let's go ahead and hit the other one with an acid trip. Anyhow....

The formal photos should come soon, it's a struggle to get the Mister to do it, and I am demanding and specific artisically, but who did he think he married? Slob around all you want otherwise but playing with my art ideas ... no, oh no. I can get one of the Army to do it proper if I have to, they will likely come for food or liquor, or both, point is, it will be done soonish. Merry merry!

-DM

Jingle Bell Rock

Alas, holidays. We have mostly fixed the monetary problem, but lingerings exist to be handled.

I’ve done all of the shopping I am willing to do, short of the children pack, who will outgrow anything fast – including toys, so they will be walmart-ed. No offense, but after being ripped off, your child will not be receiving a gift from fucking Macy’s. Nor should they. Saffy, for instance has a Lemon who wanted to be some sort of Star Wars thing for Halloween, then mermaid then god knows what after a great deal of expense….. I don’t have time to keep up with the whims of children, and I’m far too stressed to try. So, slack me, as Mr. Morgan is doing zilch to help with any purchases, as is normal, the children will get shit and sack their presents out like camels hunkered down with the loot of the decade.

I ask him things like “what does –insert any name- like?” He replies he doesn’t know. As I didn’t grow up in his house, I have no recourse short of a bowl of nuts. How am I supposed to shop? He fucking knows, and is being lazy.

I know I bought silly shit, but I liked it, so suck it proper and smile as you should when opening. My theme this year was SMALL. Do we really need more shit in our houses? None of us do, so this whole thing is an adventure of why? The guilt of purchases, how many per person, and will that person think we went cheap!

Giraffes don’t count…. Bigger the better.

Disclaimer. I didn’t go cheap, but I admit to frugal. Normally, I am a cheap AND frugal bitch, I don’t like to part with my money. Call me on it and I won’t blink to say you are right, but I do however, have taste. If I can get a gift two dollars cheaper, watch me hop to punch in my coupon. On the other hand I do put thought into my gifts, since Mr. Morgan would likely wrap raw bacon and be proud to present it. His concept of cash is like the Leprechaun from Lucky Charms… it’s magically appears. Bless his simple heart.

For the weekend …. I wish you all no holiday stress…. Wrap up the bacon, I seriously would if people knew how to take a joke.

-DM