You will never find anything as cool as this. I am slightly disturbed that someone took * a lot *

of time to pull this off. For the love of Squaids!

Anyway...check out the video here..Cress Funeral Home Taxidermy Squirrels (and chipmunks!)

Well P-Diddy Puff face...just when I thought your dumb ass couldn't get any dumber...you go and do this. Shenanigans I say! Your child is 16 years old...why in gods name do you buy him a $360,000 automobile?

I understand that you are a wealthy man, and it makes sense that the children of wealthy men might have nicer things than the rest of us did when we were growing up.....

But seriously, P-fluff....a Maybach? It's a bit extreme. The kid doesn't even have a license yet. Maybe you could have chosen something a bit more conventional. An Escalade, perhaps? Baller Baller? Throw some rims on that bitch and call it good, daddy.

A Maybach is a fine automobile. I don't know that a 16 year old could *truly* appreciate a car like this.

  If everything that is handed to you is something extravagant...you will never really grasp the true value of what things are worth. And one day, that shit will come back on ya.

Anyway. Wanna see what my cars were? I don't have pictures of all the *exact* cars...except for the one I have now. But the makes and models are all the same. Enjoi!

My first car was a 1987 Ford Taurus. Nice on the outside...Nice on the inside...under the hood it was a hot flippen mess. With this car, when it rained it poured. First it was the water pump. Then the oil pump. Then the heater core went out...and I drove around in the winter with my windows rolled down..so the damned thing wouldn't fog up. It was dumb.

My second auto. A 1973 Chevy Cheyenne. However...mine was a farm truck. I bought that sucker for $700 bucks...and I mobbed around in it for 4 years.There wasn't a panel on the thing that wasn't dented or marred. A five gallon bucket of paint was dropped on it....it had been hit by a deer...hit by a tractor...the beast was ugly. But she was my redneck battle truck. She had a 350....and she liked to go on pavement...dirt...mud...

Out of all of my old automobiles...I miss this one the most.

Number 3...a 1973 Coupe De Ville. I called it my CoupeD'Evil. It was a nice car. It was massive. It would glide down the freeway at 100 mph and you thought you were doing 60.

It also cost me 65 bucks to fill the thing. And that was when gas was 1.80. Needless to say I had to sell it. I miss it almost as much as I miss the truck. Almost.

1995 Ford Windstar.

This thing sucked mighty ass. Thats all I have to say about that.

2003 Ford Taurus.

It wasn't nearly as bad as the first. But once shit started going bad...I GTFO.

 

And this is what I drive now. 2005 Chrysler 300 Limited. I love this car. Love it. Everytime I get behind the wheel I love it more than the first time I drove it. The top pic is before the rims...the bottom was right after I put the rims on. This is my *cruising* mobile. I *heart* it. A lot.

What have you owned, car wise?

So...some people know, some people don't, but I have a serious phobia of all things huge and industrial looking. Oil refineries, nuclear power plants, smokestacks, large tubes/piping, tanks, giant watertowers. Basically giant metal/concrete stuff. I don't know why. I get very panicky when  I see such things...my heart races, tears start welling up in my eyes...I start feeling dizzy and sick. Straight panic attacks will follow if I can't get away from them quickly. I realize on some level it is silly...an unnatural fear...but that doesn't stop me from tripping out.

So I went to IKEA today. Dorking around...looking at crap...and for some reason...I decided to look up. The photo above shows what was rotating above my head. It's a *massive* ceiling fan.

I pooped a little.

Conan O'Brien was programmed for Awesomeness.
Jay Leno just isn't that funny anymore.
I just had to put that out there.

Crab Love

Oh....Strawberry Crab....
Never have I been so amused by a Crustacean. Every time I hear your name I can't help but break into a fit of joyous giggles. You make me incredibly happy...even though your brethren scare the shit out of me....you...you my friend make me smile like a young girl on Christmas morning.
How could we have not known you existed?! With all of this technology...you figure that someone would have noticed you by now. With your shell...and your legs....and the fact that in some world, you prolly do kind of look like a strawberry......... kind of....
Your so awesome I can barely stand it.

I could never eat you, Strawberry Crab.
I just want you to know that.
And if I ever get crabs...I hope they are of your variety.

I love you.

What I have Learned

In the end, all you have is your family, friends and memories.

Death is the great equalizer.

The eyes are indeed the window to the soul. Your eyes give away every emotion that you have.

Once you have a child, they ALWAYS come first. Everything you want or need falls to the wayside.

Appreciate what you have while you have it.

Tomorrow is never promised today.

Tell the people you love how you feel about them as often as you can.

Assholes are generally unhappy with their lives. That's why they try to make everyone else's miserable.

People that harbor a guilty conscious will be the first to point their finger.

You can't control anyone but yourself. And sometimes that's damn near impossible.

Patience is indeed a virtue.

Variety is indeed the spice of life. Well, one of the spices. Variety is paprika.

Most dogs just bark. Rarely will they bite. And if they do, bite back.

Living in your own head for too long will make you crazy.

Once you are crazy..it is hard to come back to an even keel. But it can be done.

Don't be afraid to take risks.

Don't be afraid to be the only one dancing. If you dance..other people will follow soon after.

There is no shame in cutting your losses.

Always voice your opinion, even if it is clearly unpopular.

Stand up for what you think is right. Don't be a pussy.

Say what you mean. Mean what you say.

Every once and awhile, do something good for someone else. Anonymously.

Happiness can come in many forms. A belt-fed weapon is one of them.

Don't take your momma for granted. Or anyone for that matter.

People who lie constantly have low self esteem.

When it comes to cops, admit NOTHING.

In the same spirit..it's not stealing..its acquiring.

Family comes in many forms.

Know when to leave it alone.

Know when to push it further.

Sometimes people need to be punched in the face.

Sometimes all they need is a hug.

Know that everything you give will be everything you get, good or bad.

Friends help you move. Good friends help you move bodies:)

Be a big enough person to apologize when you are wrong.

Music is therapy.

Faith and prayer are awesome. The power of the human mind is amazing.

Religion causes the majority of the worlds problems.

Money goes hand in hand with religion.

Most people are afraid to make waves.

Being politically correct takes the fun out of everything.

Boars, Badgers, and Hyenas are the devils work. No, seriously. They will eat your face and not feel bad about it.

If you hear someone say "hey, watch this" followed by "hold my beer" know that something entertaining
and most likely dangerous will be happening very shortly.

A brush with death will bring you closer to life.

Compound fractures make me do the heebie jeebie dance.

Loyalty is a major thing.

You will never make *everyone* happy.

You will never love anyone the way you love your children.

Never ever trust a tweeker.

Always be mindful of your surroundings.

Sea Monkeys!

Last night I was pondering instances from childhood. Strange little memories..most of them chopped up, confused. Little snippets of the past that we all try so desperately to hold on to, the roses among the rocks.
And then..I remembered..

Sea Monkeys!

Ok..we all know what sea monkeys are. They have a little plastic container...you fill that bad boy up with water...and then you dump the "Sea monkey" packet in. After a bit..you see all the monkeys swimming around..

However..they are not monkeys. They are little brine shrimp..and they aren't that exciting at all.
But I remember. I was around 4 or 5...and my older cousin was there. We had gone to the store with my mom...and somehow we had talked her into buying these little guys for us.

When we got home...I ran inside....ripped the package out of the shopping bag....and gazed in awe. I remember the sheer excitement I felt.

Sea Monkeys.

On the package...there were sea monkeys everywhere. A whole village. And they were playing with a beach ball...and building sand castles. Sea Monkey parents were playing with their Sea Monkey children...and they were all having an awesome time.

And these Sea Monkeys were *mine* I was going to have an army of Sea Monkeys. I was going to be the best Sea Monkey keeper in the universe. I would be like a god to them. But a kind god, of course...who loved all of her Sea Monkey Children.

Opening the package...I find a little booklet on how to take care of them...(for such complex creatures...they didn't need much...) and inside the booklet...you could order them toys. Little Sea Monkey beach balls called sea gems....a castle for them to live in..

I was thrilled.
Water in the tank. Mix all of the crap together...
I waited with baited breath.

The next morning...I ran out to the living room. My minions were alive!! But they didn't look like the Sea Monkeys on the package. They were tiny specks...swimming around rather aimlessly. I figured that they were newly born...and it would take them at least a day to reach their full Sea Monkey potential.

They never did.
They stayed small. Aimless. They gave a shit less about their castle. They gave a shit less about everything. They certainly were not building sand castles..or playing with beach balls..they were...
Brine shrimp.

I'm sure if you think on it for a minute...you can come up with about 10 different analogies for this story. Thinking that something is so fantastic...only to be crushed by the hard truth...life's lessons....

And I wish I could say that it was my point.
But in actuality..there was no point.
Just a hopeful little girl.
And her brine shrimp.

Momma's Death (offa my chest)

It was almost thanksgiving. The 15th day of November, Year of our lord, 2004.

I killed my mother.

Well, I suppose that isn't totally the truth. It's not like I smothered her with her pillow, or hacked her up with a steak knife.

Cancer killed my mother. I just helped it along.

Everyone knows that one day their parents will pass. Everyone has to die. But it doesn't really hit home until you are holding your dead mothers hands. Still warm, but cooling quickly. Eyes half open, mouth ajar. And the sinking feeling that nothing will ever be the same for you or your family again. The glue that held everything together, gone in a few hard months. Never coming back. Never calling late at night just to chat. Never walking through the front door. Never. Ever. Again.

It's not quite reality. Your body moves because it has to...your brain goes on autopilot. I remember everything about that morning...but there were times that my mind was totally blank. 1000 yard stare style. I can't say I was in shock, because I knew that she was going to die..

I cried silently. I remember that. No sound, just tears that wouldn't stop. I felt numb. I felt angry. Guilty. And the most horrible grief. It was sensory overload. Feeling so much, and having no outlet. You could throw a tantrum, scream, break things..break down...but nothing will stop your chest from burning. It is heartbreak, in the most literal way.

We sat with my mom for almost 2 hours before the funeral directors came for her.

They loaded her onto a cot, and strapped her in. They zipped up the cot cover, but only to her chest. They allowed us a moment to say our goodbyes.

"I love you" And I kissed her lips. And then her forehead. And then they covered her completely.

And then they left us.

When you worry for months about your ma's well being..knowing that one day she will surely die..., When it actually happens....you don't know what to do with yourself. Every bit of energy you had went into one thing..and when it changes suddenly, it rocks you. Hard. I wandered around the house for an hour. Walking from moms room, to the kitchen, outside, back to moms room. Aimless.

I decided I would go into her room and remove every medical item that I could find. The morphine pump was still running, spitting high doses of the drug every 10 minutes. It pooled on the hospital bed. The sight of it made me sick.

I took 4 garbage bags out of the room. Gloves, Swabs, Medications, hospital gowns, plastic cups, tissue, paper tape, sheets..I worked with steadfast efficiancy. Like a robot. Autopilot.

I pushed the oxygen tanks into the hallway.

The room was virtually void of anything that was used for hospice care. Except for the stupid bed and morphine pump. The bed was too big, I could never get it out of their myself.

This was the straw that broke me. That fucking bed.

I laid on the floor. I stared at the ceiling. And then to the bed. Ceiling. Bed. And then I lost control.

It was like my body was possessed. I shook so violently that it rattled my teeth. I was sobbing. I was trying to say something..anything, really...but I couldn't. The sounds came out unintelligible. I remember actually forming three words..but no more. Those words were "no" "please" and "mama". But not in that order.

I thought of the months that had past. I thought of my childhood. I thought of my moms smile. I thought of her crying. I thought about how unfair it was that my mom, who was one of the coolest people you would ever want to meet..had to go in such a hard way. There are rapists and murderers that live to be 90.

I thought about my son growing up and not knowing his grandmother. The thought ripped me in two. No camping trips. No trick or treating, Christmases...She wouldn't be at his wedding and she wouldn't be able to see her great grandchildren. I felt bad for them both.

But mostly, I thought about the mass amounts of drugs that I had sent coursing through her body. Enough to kill me within an hour. Morphine, every 10 minutes via pump. Liquid Morphine under the tongue every 15 minutes, and a dose of ativan under the tongue every 45 minutes. 13 hours later she left this earth.

Like I said, my mother died of cancer. But I am the one who helped it along.

People feel the need to argue this point. "You made her comfortable" "She wasn't in any pain" "She was terminal and its better that it happened quickly"

Maybe. But I don't know for sure. If she was in constant pain, she wouldn't have been able to tell me anyway, due to the drugs. She did have pain though. We would move her and she would moan, try to talk. No strength.

And as far as being terminal....I cant argue. We knew she would pass, but no one knew it would be so soon. The doctors were saying a year...maybe two, of "quality" life. 5 Months to the day she was diagnosed, she died.

My mom always told me, " If you are laying in a bed, unable to eat, unable to talk, use the toilet...that's not living, and I wouldn't want to live like that"

I can hear her saying it now, like a tape recorder in my brain. But I still cant shake the feeling that I am the one responsible for the demise of my mother. The what-ifs float around my head like angry little birds.

What if I had waited? What if she turned around and started getting better? What if we would have known sooner? Would it have made a difference? Would she have backed the decision that I made for her...and would she have made the same for me? And it goes much deeper than that. OCD. Could I have given my mother cancer because I myself was so worried that I would get it? Did my intrusive thoughts spread to my moms body? Wrap your mind around that for a minute.

"That's just crazy...you shouldn't think like that"

My mom also used to say "Thought Imagination = Manifestation. And I know this to be a truth. I have thought things into existence before. Concentrate hard enough and you can make just about anything happen. And before I even knew my mom had the disease, I would have panic attacks because I was afraid that I had cancer, and if I didn't have it yet, I was well on my way to getting it. She would roll her eyes and tell me to calm down...I wouldn't get cancer...that's just silly, meg. Recorder. In my brain.

What if..Why....If only...Why didn't I...Why did I....

None of this really matters now. And I know that.

I can't change what has happened to us. I can't bring my ma back. Or mikes ma. Or our friends that have gone before.

So I try to remember to tell everyone how I feel about them. I try to smile. To have a good time..and make some memories. This is no dress rehearsal, folks. Its the real deal. The main event, the big show.

And the curtain is closing.

I love you, mama. And I will see you in the clearing at the end of the path.