Well, in terms of recent events I can say absolutely no one.

Especially in terms of a particular political party that is supposed to be pro-choice.

Let’s take a look at what the term pro-choice means.  (Since I personally believe that the entire country with the exception of a chosen few need a refresher on this term.)  Pro, derived from Latin, means for, as in for or against.  Choice, is Germanic in origin, and simply means the act or choosing the thing chosen.  So together, in all rational thought you would think that being pro-choice would then mean to be for making choices.  Not deciding to be for a specific choice, but the action of making that choice (sorry for the redundancy, however in the light of the Miss Teen South Carolina candidate, one can never be to sure about proving a point).

So why then do the liberals (who unfortunately get lumped into the category with democrats and lazy republicans), say they are pro-choice? 

The answer is so simple: they lump it together with abortion.  Like a small majority of Christians who consider all other faiths to be heathen and un-christian (ex. my god is better than your god so lets fight about it, which is not unlike early kung-fu movies).

So I say drop the noise and notion that you are pro-choice, because you obviously are not.  If you were, what is your stance on gun control?  I advocate safety and proper technique, not crummy legislation that will keep law abiding citizens from owning and operating guns.  While they are not a toy, neither is an automobile.  I don’t see anyone trying to improve the mass transit in this country either, but I’ll save that for another day.

Next this funny thing called citizenship, it is for citizens.  Persons born in or who migrate legally are citizens.  Not illegal immigrants who work without paying federal, state, and local taxes on their incomes.

So in conclusion, I would venture to say that the majority of liberals by my rationale are pro-choice, like so many other things, when it suits them or is more convenient.

please note: definitions are reduced from merriamwebster.com, with the exception of pro-choice.

The weekend started with a nice drive to Campbell County. It was the Campbell County Cougar’s season opener against the Union County Patriots. My step-son to be is a Cougar and my ass promised to be there.

It was hotter than 10 hells on Friday and I was not dressed to go to a football game straight from work. I was in a short, black skirt and dressy tank top. Not exactly the gear I’d prefer to be wearing whilst resting my ass on 110 degree concrete bleachers.

The fun part was that my friends, Duck & Debbie, well, their son plays for Union County. So there we are… Me & Anthony and Duck & Debbie. Rooting for our respective kids. When the guy on the P.A. makes the announcement that the kids in the league are encouraged to have good sportsman-like conduct, and how we as parents, should be the same way.

I looked at Debbie and told her as soon as Union County scored I was gonna punch her right square in the mouth. Well I didn’t get to pop her a good one because I had no more than said that when Campbell County scored, twice, in the second quarter.

Good sports-man-ship my ass.

It seemed like we were gonna be pulling splinters out of the boy’s ass from his riding of the bench, but lo and behold, the last 3 minutes 22 seconds of the game they finally put his ass in. He made a serious tackle and assisted in a final touchdown. Go Boy Go!

I decided not to tell him that the majority of the Powell team was there watching them play. I reckon they wanted to see how hard it’s gonna be to whoop up on some Cougar ass.

I don’t know what to do when Powell and Campbell County play. I gradu-ma-wated from Powell several moons ago. But the boy is a Cougar.

I suppose I sew the back of a Powell shirt to the front of a Cougar shirt and be for both.

As usual nothing can go just as smooth as a newborn baby’s ass.  This whole bridal underwear crisis was starting to wear on me a tad bit.

I had rescheduled with Angenette, the wedding dress alteration lady, for today to begin alterations on my gown. Of course that was assuming that my damn boob liftin, fat squashing chinese torture device arrived in time for me to carry it along to her house.

Did it come?  Why, hell no.

Found out when I finally checked my email this morning, that it, in fact, had not even shipped.  Found out that OOOPS, it ain’t even in stock!!!

Cancel my order!  Refund the Georges back to my credit card and piss off!!!

So, me and Olga wisk off to David’s Bridal for a fun time trying to shove me into a boned corset.  If you’ve never put one on, I suggest you try it.

It’s a delightful little contraption that effectively displaces fat to places it was never intented to be.  All the while cutting off all hopes of taking more than a gasp of air at a time. 

I have alot of breathing exercises to be performing before I am in this thing for the day.  Or like Elizabeth on Pirates I, I shall be passing out and falling off a cliff into the water.  Well, maybe nothing that extreme.  I’ll just pass out and fall at Anthony’s feet (hopefully after squeeking out, “I do”).

Anyway, if nothing else, it should make for good YouTube footage.

     So, Anton and I were chatting earlier, and he sends me a link to this video.  He says, “It’s kinda interesting in a horrid sort of way.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_tEhX5__sM

     Although it’s touted as the “Korean Free Version,” I couldn’t help but note that there were, in fact, PLENTY of Koreans…
     But hey, he’s no William Hung…

     In other, unrelated video, Miss Teen South Carolina shows us that Peroxide and Television do not mix:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQdhMSEqhfg

     I’m sure that all viewers let out a simultaneous and resounding, “WHAT?”

     Funny that I should stumble across this one immediately after:

     Coincidence?

     *snicker*

So, this wedding hasn’t exactly went off without a hitch… If I don’t end up in a padded room by the end of this thing it will be a miracle..

Leave us recap all of the issues, shall we?

**I mean, the date has been changed from July 14th to June 2nd and now (officially) September 29th.

**My stepbrother (the preacherman) was who was supposed to officiate the ceremony, ceremoniously backed out on me without letting me know.

**My chinese torture underwear has been returned for the proper size, yet the company has yet to send the replacement (the bastards).

**I am now going to have to reschedule AGAIN with the dress alteration lady.

GAAAA!!!! Then there is the issue with the cake.

Now call me simple-minded. But ain’t cake, cake? Nothing more, nothing less?
At least that is what I thought when I started all this.

My original cake lady gave me the schpeel about how her cakes cost from $2 – $2.50 per serving. Now, I’m thinkin, if all of these folks that have been invited to this here illustrious event show, I’m gonna end up shellin out around $450 for a cake.

Cake, kids. Flour, eggs, oil, frosting. A cake. She cuts me a deal, and agrees on $230.00 set up and all.

Well, when the wedding got cancelled twice, I ended up losing the original cake lady. Which I was really bummed about, because although it was ass expensive, she was talented enough to make me the cake I wanted:

But alas, Elaine is looney and completely booked from now until Jesus comes back.

So, Olga (my boss) comes in this past Monday morning and says “Dude, you know when one door closes, another one opens.” She had found someone, quite by accident, that does cakes. Yay!

Or so I thought. So, the lady calls me. We discuss the cake and how many I need to feed with this cake and so on… She goes on to tell me that she doesn’t do that pricing by the piece stuff. I was thinking, “are you for real? You rock cake chick!”.

So, she says give her a day or so to work on pricing and she’d get back to me. Well, today was the day. The phone range this morning and I was thrilled to be hearing back from her so promptly.

She says she can do the cake (mind you, I downsized from the original cake, so it was smaller). And she’ll do the cake for a measley $550.00.

Sweet Holy Jesus, I almost fell over. Since I was at the office and unable to pass out right that second, I settled for my jaw dropping so far it hit my desk.

I thanked her kindly for her call, and told her I had to get in touch with my Mama since she is the one paying for it. We’ve decided to forego the half thousand dollar delight and put the blame on my Mom. She’ll never know.

Anyway, off to Food City I go, as in a previous grocery foraging expedition, I noted in the back of my mind, that they have cakes for all occassions.

Seriously, who give two shakes of pig poo if the things tastes like sweet cardboard. It’s still cake. Like anybody will eat it anyway.
Well, anybody other than my paternal grandfather would would eat the leather off of a shoe if it had icing on it.

They are going to prepare me a cake, that althought it ain’t nearly what I wanted to begin with, will do. Especially for the $$.

For a mere $160 plus tax, we are getting a mighty fine work of edible art.

But still, I beg of you this answer… Ain’t a cake, a cake?

I could just as easily go to Sam’s and get a mac sized cake for $21.99. And they’ll even airbrush Spiderman on it if I want. =)