Proof...

That middle easterners really think that Americans are all extremely stupid:

"We don't have homosexuals..." - President Ahmadinejad of Iran, at Columbia University, 9/24/07

That one made me spit gatorade.

I'm not usually political, I tend to steer clear of those kinds of things, because frankly I just don't want to deal with the trolls and BS that I've seen on others' blogs, but this guy pegged out my bullshit-o-meter so hard it broke the peg.

Jumping Jehosephat, I've stepped in things that smelled better than this guy's speech at the barn.

Random Early Morning Thoughts....

Jeff Dunham is freaking hilarious. His new special was on Comedy central late last night and this morning I reminded myself why I love my DVR.

Also last night, some nimwad decided it was a good idea to drive a steel spike through a piece of concrete in he hallway, at eleven oclock at night. Or something, they may have been trying to cram for their Finishing Class by shoving Miss Manners through their ear, via banging their head on my wall, I didn't check.

In all the time I've been up here I haven't used my MP3 player. I love my MP3 player. It's now loaded with a recorded show from my favorite online radio station. (These people are nuts. If you need proof just think about it... they keep me around.)

My neighbors' chihuahuas haven't barked in three days. I'm beginning to wonder if they chewed their way into the walls and died there.

I'm watching the news, and I've come to the conclusion that Columbia University had a staff meeting a few months ago, and someone said the following:

"Man, we aren't getting as many applications as we used to. It's not about how hard it is to get in anymore, kids today go to the schools they know about. We need commercials or something."

"Wait a minute, we don't want to pay for commercials, what are you thinking? What we need is free publicity. How can we get that?"

And in the back, the poli-sci professor is bouncing in his (or her, I don't freakin know) seat with his arm in the air, about to wet himself.

"I know, I know!!!!"

This horse will never have a permanent name....

So yeah after weeks of agonizing and wracking my brains for a name for The Big Bay Wonder Horse, I settled on Bubbah. I even thought of him as Bubbah. I thought his name was Bubbah.

Found out this morning how wrong I was.

His name is Monkey.

Why is his name Monkey, you ask?

Because that's what he comes to.

I'm not kidding.

Apparently all of these weeks of walking in, looking at his stall and saying "You are a disgusting little monkey, bubbah," or watching him play in the round pen and saying "Come on, bubbah, you silly monkey, time to go back to the barn," have taught him not that his name is bubbah, but that his name is Monkey.

I had to feed a couple of the rodeo horses today, the rodeo team is back but they arrived home at four in the morning, so I was asked to cover again today (I got a panicked call from E yesterday morning.)

So anyway, I had extra chores this morning so I put the Big Bay Wonder Horse in the round pen and let him goof off while I cleaned his stall, put his hay in his tire, filled his water buckets, AND walked across to the pens by the arena and searched in vain for the hay that's supposed to be kept back there... walked back to the barn, got my car, pulled up by the barn door, loaded half a bale of hay in my trunk, which didn't fit because I have cases of bottled water in there, drove back down to the pens with my white trash transport mode (something in the trunk that doesn't fit, trunk lid open and whatever oversized piece of junk that's keeping it from closing hanging half out) and fed and watered those horses, before taking my car back to the parking lot and hiking back to the round pen to get my horse and put him away.

Every time I walked by he was coming to the gate, wanting to go back to his stall because he knew there was food there by now. Except when I actually went to get him, then he was being stuck up.

"Come on bubbah, time to go back to the barn."

"Hey, I'm over here, I have your halter, there's alfalfa in your stall...."

"Hey! Come here, you silly monkey!"

And he finally came right over to me.

So, Farmmom, I'm sorry, but your horse has decided that his name is Monkey. I swear I called him Bubbah more than I mentioned Monkey, but he has made his wishes clear.

At least until he decides to change his mind and stop answering to anything.

Here, muse! Here muse! Good muse.....

Missing:

1 Muse

Description:

Tiny, wearing dirty blue jeans with holes in them, a sports bra, and a stained baseball cap.

If found, please tell her to come home, things just aren't the same without her.

Reward:

More writing.

Blog Talk Interview

Ok then, the final date has been decided for this coming Thursday, September 27th, or Friday the 28th, depending on whether you want to call it a late night or an early morning.

The show will start at 12:00 midnight CDT, and you can listen in here.

You can call in and ask questions ( (646) 478-4628 ). Or email Mark at txfellowship (at) yahoo (dot) com before 11:30 CDT. Or you can instant message him on yahoo at the ID txfellowship during the show.

Or, you know, run away, far and fast in the other direction.

Mutual Fascination

Yesterday our area played host to (I'm assuming) some of the Air Force Academy students on training flights, in various aircraft. Early yesterday morning I heard jets go over my apartment building, and around ten there were eight or ten helicopters in the sky, then around sundown it was prop planes.

Kind of fun to watch, and everyone stopped to gawk when they went over.

Of course, at ten, when the helicopters were going over, I was getting ready for class out at the barn. I had Bubbah out and tacked up, and was at my car grabbing a bottle of water when I heard them, looked up and here they came for a low-altitude (low enough that they changed the direction of the breeze as they went over, but not so low that they were stirring up dirt) slow sweep right over the barn and arenas.

I walked over to where I could see Bubbah and made sure he wasn't having a panic attack (no, curious, and a little nervous looking, but no major panic) and then gawked with everyone else.

As the last helicopter went over, I had begun to giggle at all of the students standing around staring upwards with their mouths slightly open like they were about to start shouting "Airpane! Airpane!"

Then I looked up just in time to catch a flash of pale in one of the windows. It was just an instant, so I could be entirely wrong, but that momentary flash branded itself on my brain as a face staring down at us.

So maybe we aren't the only "country cousins" around.....

When Stupid Reality Shows Come In Handy...

Or, Thank God I Live In A Semi-Basement Apartment.

I've been industrious today. I got all of my dishes done, cleaned out my fridge, did laundry... and took out the trash.

The fantastic habit I've developed of locking the door behind me... well. I was preoccupied. And my keys were where they live while I'm at home... in my catch-all dish.

Yeah, I locked myself out. I really need to stash that spare key in my car, instead of being preoccupied and blonde and forgetting to do it.

So I went looking for the complex manager, to get the office key and let myself in. No dice. Well, they were painting the hallways today... went all the way upstairs in my building, no dice. Stepped outside and eyed the entrances to the other buildings, but I didn't see any painting implements.

The toddler brigade was outside playing, though, so I asked the moms if they knew where the manager was. One of them didn't even know who I was talking about, and the other informed me that the manager and her husband had left for the evening.

(Shit.)

So, I tried the cleaning lady's apartment. No one there either.

(Shit.)

Sat in my car for a few minutes, read through The Raven again (hey, if I'm stuck outside of my apartment until they get back I might as well do something productive like take more notes for my paper, right?) and then had a thought.

See... when it first started, I was addicted to To Catch A Thief. Hey, it was fun to watch the goober homeowners agree to have their house broken into and still pull stupid stuff like leaving doors unlocked. Later it just became the same old schtick of trashing a house and soccer moms crying over the furniture being crooked or muddy footprints on the carpet, and I got bored with it.

But, I thought about it, and I thought I'd left my living room window unlocked. I'd had it open earlier today because there was a nice breeze, and I didn't think I'd locked it when I closed it... I always lock the windows before I go to bed, or if I'm actually going somewhere, but if I'm in the house I don't always lock them when I shut them.

Walked over to my window, and sure enough, I'd left it unlocked.

(Hmm. That's lovely, anyone can walk up to my windows and see if they're locked or not, plain as day.)

Now the only thing standing between me and the rest of my housework (gotta pee, gotta pee!) was the screen....

After a little poking and prodding, I discovered that my screens can be removed from the outside, if you have tiny little fingers and long fingernails.

(Or a flat head screw driver. Cripes, this is making me want to board the windows up.)

(Still, it's a good thing for me right now.)

(I'll have to tell Best Friend that she can't yell at me for my habit of chopping my fingernails off and then ignoring them until they get long enough to get in the way anymore.)

Slid open the window, groped under the blinds for the cord (don't want to tear up my blinds! They're what lets me walk around naked!) and climbed in, (Not head first, nimwit, the floor is down from here!) replacing the screen behind me.

(Crap I think I broke my ankle. What bright moment led me to pile all my shoes under the window? Ohhhh, gotta pee, gotta pee!)

I'm actually waiting for the cops to show up. My living room is just to the left of the front entrance of the apartment building, and faces on another complex, and the people over there seem to be a little nosy, so either they're nosy enough to have seen me in here whilst I had the blinds up, and know that it's my apartment, or they're just nosy enough to have seen me crawling in the window, and have now called the nice officers to report a burglary.

We'll see.