Now What The Heck Can I Say To THAT?

When one of the WWE Wrestlers enters the ring, there is a 'theme song', pyrotechnics, screaming fans and depending on who is making the entrance, total chaos.

After working the crowd from centre stage, they make their way down - what the boys & I call - The Ramp.

See below during the entrance of Jeff Hardy. One of the 'house favourites' here in the Korner ;-)

After Jeff does his entrance dance, fireworks explode, down the ramp he goes and into the ring.



As I've mentioned in previous posts, Adam is my little system engineer.

As I've also mentioned in another post, Adam LOVES anything WWE.



When left to his own devices and 15 minutes alone in the backyard, THIS is what he came up with last weekend.

I looked out the kitchen window, and just ... stared.

Now what the heck can I say to THAT?

A 'ramp' leading to his 'ring'.

Note the trampoline in distant background. Yeah. That's the RING in case ya didn't know.

It starts from the end of the deck.

Those pieces of block wood on either side of the wide 'ramp' pieces ... uh-huh ... careful around those, THAT'S where the PYRO shoots from!

He originally had the ladder turned the other way, so he could climb OVER it.

He didn't win that argument.

The ring ramp has since been dismantled ... and turned into a bike ramp/jump.

I'm really starting to wonder what he can do, if I set him loose with a hammer in my (w)rec(ked) room!

K.

As a side note - No, I don't want to get into the fact the trampoline doesn't have a net around it. It should have had a net around it when their dad dropped it off on my back yard about 3yrs ago.

That's a whole other post.

That red tape around parts of it is NOT to hold it together, it's where their 'WWE Signs' were once hanging lol.

And no, they don't jump onto it from the top of the play set.

Anymore.

They tried it once. Trampoline was taken apart.

Come on! You have a heart! Now GIVE, So Someone Else Can Too!

Are you an Organ Donor?

No, you don't have to actually answer that question in the comments. I just needed an opening line ;-)

I'm a donor. Sort of.

Considering I'm blind as a bat without my glasses/contacts, I doubt anyone would ever want my eyes.

And since I've been a smoker for almost 20yrs, and have had a double lung surgery in the past 6 - where they removed 15% of my lungs - yeah ... don't think anyone will be lining up for those either.

Everything else?

TAKE IT!

If I'm left in such a state that I'll never be able to use my organs again, why not let someone else have them?

They're not going to help anyone tucked away in a pine box, 6ft under dirt, grass and the occasional dog/bird/wild animal poo.

I don't believe anyone in my own family has ever required an organ to survive.

But I DO know of others who have.


Recently, a fellow Blogger (Hallie, from the Wonderful World of Wieners) brought the importance of the subject to my attention again.

She is trying to raise $5000 for the United Network for Organ Sharing, in honour of her father, and the boy (and his family) who donated his heart 6yrs ago, so her dad could continue to live.


Read their full story HERE.


Visit the site to DONATE here! http://www.firstgiving.com/hallietwomey - I just checked the site, and she is at 60% of her goal! WooHoo!

To raise organ donation awareness, she has put together a Raffle as her fundraiser, and will be drawing 25 prizes for 25 days in Aug.

You can receive a ballot to enter the raffle by donating through the link above.

Some of the donations for prizes she has already received are:

*gift cards
*stunning jewelry
*$200 worth of steaks
*lobster feast for 2 to be mailed wherever you live
*expensive high end cosmetics*gorgeous artwork
*tickets to the RED SOX!!!!!!
*handcrafted items that make me weak with jealousy
*Starbucks coffee maker
*$400 round of golf for 4 @ Andover County Club - (New England only)
*4 passes to OMNI Theatre - (New England only)
*4 passes to Franklin Park Zoo - (New England only)
*4 passes to the JFK Library and Museum - (New England only)

and so, so SO MUCH MORE!!!

You can also see pics of some of the prizes listed above, as well as MANY more HERE!

I have offered to send her something for the Raffle.

I was going with a Nova Scotia theme. But it turns out some of the items I ended up with were actually made in New Brunswick, and SOLD in NS.

So now, it's more of a Maritimer theme ;-)

From My Heart To Yours

I'm sending a bottle of NS Maple Syrup, a bag of Salt Water Taffy from Jennifer's of Nova Scotia, a bag of NS Maple Kisses from Jennifer's and a Celtic cross pewter pendant necklace, from a local shop, Aitkens Pewter.

I also pestered my favourite afternoon DJ at FX 101.9 and he gave me two CD's to send along of good 'ol NS Country Boys ;-) Thanks Russell!

JD Clarke, who I know and is absolutely AWESOME! And Tim Who? Who I'm honestly not familiar with (and couldn't find a website for), but if you like country music, you can't go wrong with Maritime Country Music!

A co-worker (thanks Dave!) also answered my request for 'donation stuff' and gave me a Multi-function Pedometer

and an FM Auto Scan Radio with headphones, to throw into my 'From My Heart To Yours' box.

I've also donated to the fund.

Which means ... I have the opportunity to win any one of the other prizes being drawn.

YES! Mama needs some new jewelry!



When I brought home the first items, and explained to the boys what they were for, it opened the door for the conversation of organ donation with them.

They asked of course what it meant, and I gave them a couple of examples.

Then I told them I was an organ donor.

It didn't quite bring about the reaction I expected.

I'm not sure WHAT I expected, but it wasn't the 'WHATNOWAYHOWCOMEAREYOUGONNADIENOW?' that I got.

Then, I told them THEY were organ donors too.

Yeah.

That didn't go over so well at first.

'You mean they're going to cut us open while we're ALIVE and take out our INSIDES?!?!?!'

But once I explained, AGAIN, that I would NEVER give away any of their body parts, unless I was ABSOLUTELY SURE they were never ever ever ever going to use them again, and they wouldn't feel a thing, they were OK with it.

They understood the importance of it.

What if their heart or lungs could save another child.

That was a pretty powerful thought.

And it's a very important decision.

I hope I never need an organ transplant. Although, with my lungs, it wouldn't surprise me if I found myself on one of those lists 30yrs down the road.

I just hope, when MY time comes, that my 'match' took the time to fill out that little organ donation section on their license.

Did you fill out yours?

Would you like to donate to Hallie's fundraiser? Either by donating an item for the raffle, or giving to the fund.

Sure you would!

Come on! You have a heart! Now GIVE, so someone else can too!

K.

Nobody Said We Had To SOUND Good!

Up until about five years ago, the only time I had ever sung in public was my last year of high school.

I played Rizzo in Grease.


Pic taken from HERE

After the ex and I split, I tried something I had never done before.

Karaoke!

And you know what? I LOVED it!

Don't get me wrong, standing up there, looking out at a crowd of expectant faces, knowing I have nowhere near a great voice, I was SCARED!

Freakin' scared!

I'm not a singer. I'm a mom who likes to sing.


But I got up, did it, and had a GREAT time!

It's not something I do on a weekly basis. I don't haunt the local Karaoke bars.

But every few weeks, my partner in crime and I will head out to a spot where (usually) nobody knows us, and sing our little hearts out.

Nobody said we had to SOUND good!




We're not out to be the next Carrie Underwood & Shania.

The only goal we have for one of these Girls Night Out, is to have FUN!

And THAT is something we always manage to do ;-)



Give it a try some night!

The audience is there FOR the Karaoke ... it's OK if you suck!

Besides, you don't have to sound good to have fun with it.

Just ask William Hung ;-)

K.

But WHY Can't I Have Red Hair?

Adam decided last weekend he wanted to be a redhead.

First I said 'NO! You can't colour your hair until you hit 'teenager status'.'

Of course, as any kid would, he came back with , 'But WHY can't I have red hair NOW?'

I thought about it for a second.

It's only hair. It didn't have to be permanent. Seriously, what's wrong with letting him try it?

When I was younger, I wanted to be a redhead too.

And I was, for awhile, during the high school years.

I'm sure many kids would like to try different colours. And it's just so acceptable, 'these days'.

So, when it became apparent he wasn't giving up, I decided to pick my battles, and bought a 'lasts for 8 washes' red for him.

Which made him happy :-)


This is his new look.

For another few washes anyway ;-)

K

That Lawn's SMOKIN'!

I hate mowing the lawn.

I had never mowed a lawn until my ex and I split five years ago. I never had to.

I don't mind the actual MOWING of the lawn. If it's a straight, flat surface. No hills, no pits.

It's the lawnmower itself that I actually hate. I'm on my third in five years.

They're my nemesis.

Won't start when I need it to. Works fine on a rainy day.

Does it need gas? Is it out of oil?

Was that a branch, a rock, or small animal I just ran over?

Someone, please, just get me a freakin' GOAT!


Last week, the lawnmower wouldn't start.

Yesterday after work, I finally took a look at it.

Lots of gas. Must need oil.

I put oil in the beast, and told Alec (who has only recently taken over this mowing chore) that he was good to go.


Did you know you're not supposed to OVERFILL a lawn mower with oil?

Have you seen how tiny that 'Fill' line is on that stick?

Do you know what happens to a lawn mower that has too much oil in it?

What happens ... is that your neighbours think your vehicle is on fire, and want to call the fire department.

Thankfully, what they do instead, is show up in your front yard, shouting "What's wrong with your mower?"

A minute earlier, after first starting it, when Alec turned to me and asked through a cloud of smoke, "Is it SUPPOSED to do this Mom?"

I guess "Keep going Hon, It'll burn off!" wasn't necessarily the right answer.



Don't worry. He shut it down after a few steps. Neighbour and I drained it. The ex happened to show up and he ended up mowing it instead.

And, it looks great.

Neighbours might even say, "That lawn's SMOKIN"!

Oh yeah ... they did.

K.

A Slight Change In Tone That Screamed Volumes

It’s time to come clean.

No, I don’t have the bodies of three ex husbands buried in my basement - That’s not what that smell is.

I’m not a Secret Agent Spy - That’s not what those handcuffs are for.

And as much fun as it sounds like my boys and I have, and as great a relationship it seems we have ... that’s not always the case.

Sometimes, we argue.

We yell. We say things we shouldn't. We walk away from each other in hurt and anger with a 'Don't talk to me right now!'.

We cry.





My boys fight. A lot.

It’s the one thing I REALLY wish I could change about their relationship.

People tell me it’s ‘normal’. Siblings fight.

But do they have to do it EVERY. FREAKIN'. DAY?

Do they have to do it to the point where both are yelling, one of them is crying, and I’m ready to lose my mind?

This single parenting thing is hard.

Very hard.

Much harder some days than others.

Those are the days I need to walk away from my kids, and give myself a time out.

Or cry.

Or both.

Sometimes it's because I'm disappointed in their actions.

Sometimes it's because I'm just SO angry with them.

And sometimes? When they’re being total jerks to each other, and ME?

Nothing else will help but a good cry.

When the boys were younger, they hated to see me cry.

They would watch me during a sad movie, waiting … "is she gonna cry?"

They would look for the signs during an argument with their father … ‘‘is she gonna cry?"

And they would more often than not attempt to stop whatever behaviour was bringing me to the verge of tears and say “Don’t cry Mommy”.

Then, of course, I’d feel guilty about shedding the tears in front of the kids, and immediately the wells would dry up.

Last week, Alec and I were ‘having words’. He was in an argument with his brother and I didn’t feel he was ‘fighting fair’.

If they HAVE to fight, they’re fighting FAIR damnit!

Alec and I had gone round and round in the argument.

I’d had enough, was exhausted, feeling emotionally drained and started to walk away.

From behind me, I heard, ‘Oh, what? You gonna CRY now?!?!’

That one sentence sent my heart into a million tiny pieces, scattering across the kitchen floor.

It wasn’t so much WHAT he said, but HOW he said it.

It was the slight change in tone, small adjustment to the words … that screamed volumes.

Gone was the little boy who didn’t like to see his mother cry.

In his place, stood a smart–mouthed teenager, sneering at the thought of bringing tears to his mother's eyes.

Yeah. Being a parent sucks some days.

Not always.

Most days, it's tough, yet very rewarding.

But some days, like the ones above, I wonder if I'm ever going to get this motherhood thing right, and if I just should have stuck to fish.

Or a pet rock.

I can't screw up a rock.

K.

How Do YOU Pick Your Political Candidate?

We had a provincial election yesterday.

I'm not one of these people who puts a political sign on my lawn.

Pic courtesy of Halifax News Net

My father taught me that you never discuss politics or religion.

That way, nobody ends up dead ;-)

So, I generally keep 'who I'm voting for' to myself.

Personally, I don't think any one party is better than the other. It's just a matter of picking the lesser of the evils.

Maybe, I should just take my voting cues from my 9yr old.




Kid: Are you voting tomorrow Mom?

Me: Yup!

Kid: You're voting for Percy Paris right? You'd better be voting for Percy, Mom!


Originally, I thought he wanted me to vote for Mr Paris, because he lives 'around the corner' from us, and his daughter is a counsellor at the boys Daycamp.

But no. Not my kid. That's not how he chooses the BEST candidate.


Me: And why do you think I should vote for Percy Paris?

Kid: Rolling his eyes, sighing, like I'm a complete moron, he says ....


Cause he's got an AWESOME pimped out mustache, Mom! JEEZE!

Pic courtesy of Wikipedia

Yes. Yes he does. So THAT'S how ya get the votes!

Congratulations Mr Paris!

K.

Fix The Mirror? I'll Fix Your F%&#*'n Mirror!!!!

The boys were with their father this weekend.

When they came home last night, Alec had a story for me.

He’d been hit by a car earlier in the afternoon.

Now, since he was walking and talking and I hadn’t gotten a call from their father about it, and nobody was in the hospital, I knew he was OK.

He showed me what was going to be a nasty bruise on his forearm, but otherwise, nothing broken or bleeding.

However, the more I think about it, the more I’m pissed off about the whole thing.

The boys were just leaving their father’s on their bikes. They rounded the corner onto the main road when the car hit Alec.

According to Alec (and Adam) the car came up onto the shoulder of the road, onto the gravel and into Alec’s path.

Thankfully Alec was going slow and managed to turn his bike mostly out of the way.

The impact was still enough to knock him to the ground.

The guy driving the car is in his 20’s, and Alec recognized him from his father’s neighbourhood.

And what did the guy say after Alec got up off the ground?

Not OMIGOD!

Not ARE YOU OK?

This guy says …. ‘Fix the mirror!’

And Alec, being Alec, dusts himself off and fixes the mirror.

THEN the guy asked Alec if he was OK.

Only AFTER he told him to ‘fix the mirror’.

Uh … s’cuse me? Fix the mirror? FIX THE MIRROR?

I’ll fix your F %$&#*’n mirror!!!!!!

Buttwipe just hits my kid, and his first response is ‘Fix the mirror!’

Then, after a quick 'You OK?' he just left. Drove off.

As luck would have it, a passing truck happened to be going by at the same time, and stopped to see if he was OK.

Buttwipe in the car must have seen them stop, because then he came BACK and asked Alec again ‘Are you OK?’

Alec was going to say ‘Yes’ no matter what.

Now, I’m a pissed off Mama who doesn’t know what to do.

Do you bother to file a police report if you only find out your kid was hit by a car AFTER the fact?

He’s OK. No long term damage (I don’t believe). So it’s not like I’ll be pressing charges or anything.

I guess I’m just wondering if you bother to put it on record, just to HAVE it on record?

Unless, of course, I can file charges for Buddy being a Buttwipe to my kid.

I’d definitely file charges all over his ass for THAT one!!!

Fix the Mirror?

I’ll fix his F%$&*'n Mirror! And his attitude too!

K.

It's All About The Babes & Boobs

I'm an only child (explains alot doesn't it!).

I never knew what it was like to live with little boys, until my own came along.

The closest thing I have to a brother, is my cousin Stephen. He is also an only child, a year older than me, and lived only 45 minutes away.

Boys are still a mystery to me most days.

The things that make them tick.

Or don't.

From the time they were very young, one thing about the boys was apparent...

They dug girls.

I find it interesting to see what kind of girls they find attractive.

On TV.

In real life.

A few weeks ago, Adam asked me to show him how to change his background on the computer.

I said sure and walked him through the steps.

Once confident he understood, I left him to google the WWE Wrestler images.

A few minutes later, he calls out "MOM! Come see my new background! It's REALLY cool!"

I came downstairs expecting to find John Cena, Batista, or Jeff Hardy filling the screen.

Instead, I saw this.

Maria.

Pic courtesy of Freewebs.com

Oh yeah, she's a wrestler alright. One of the Wrestling Diva's.

And that's what he'd googled "wwe maria"

It may have been an innocent google, but I wasn't about to have her splashed across my 9yr old's computer screen ... like THAT!

Period.

Without trying to make too big a deal of it, I simply said, "Uh ... Hon ... new rule ... you can pick a Diva, but ... she has to have CLOTHES ON!!!!"

"But she HAS clothes on!"

I simply shook my head and said "More clothes than that."

This time I left him grumbling.

They know there's no argument when it comes to computer use.

Nothing inappropriate. I must have all passwords. I will check history. No talking to strangers. Blah Blah Blah.

They will lose computer time for any and all offenses, so he knew this was a no win, as it clearly fell under "Nothing Inappropriate".

A few minutes later, I hear, "MOM! I chose a new one!" And she's wearing clothes!"

Sigh. I can't believe that just came out of my kid's mouth.

I walked over to the computer, to find this ... another Maria.

Pic courtesy of The Sun

"Doesn't she look pretty Mom! And look! She has a sucker!"

Sigh.

I'd like to think that's just his innocence talking.

I'd really really really like to hold onto that, just awhile longer.

But alas, I know the truth.

It's all about the Babes and Boobs.

The background has once again been changed.

He chose a WWE Dude.

With clothes.

K.

Karma. That B*t@#

This post is NOT for the squeamish. And it's really long.

You've been warned.



A couple of months ago, I was a guest poster on another really cool blog.

The Wonderful World of Wieners.

I had the honour of taking the reins for a Morbid Monday post, and dumped 'Impalement' on Hallie's unsuspecting readers.

I gave them That's Stickin' It To Ya!

Little did I know that Karma, that B*t@#, would come back to bite me in the ass.

Friday night, I got a treat.

Both boys were going to the Pre-teen dance AND both were going for sleepovers afterwards!

This had never happened before, on a weekend night they were with me.

Sleepovers are usually at OUR house.

After dropping Alec & his friend off at the dance (Adam had left a little earlier with his buddy), I was driving home and let my mind wander.

"Gee, it was a pretty 'quiet' week, not much to blog about.'

Karma, that B*t@#

The next day, the plan was to meet Adam at the ball field, where he was scheduled to have his first practice of the season, pick up his uniform, meet the coach/players etc.

Before going there, I had to pick Alec up at his friend's house.

I went out to the truck, turned the key far enough to start the tunes, and sat there for a second, debating with myself over whether or not I wanted to throw on a bit of blush and eyeshadow.

Yes, I keep these in the vehicle.

Vanity won out.

That's the only reason I was still home. Otherwise, I would have left right away.

I had just finished the eyes, and looked away from the mirror above the visor to see Adam's buddy and his parents pulling in the driveway.

What were they doing here?

I was supposed to meet them at the ball field in half an hour.

After seeing both the Mom & Dad jump out, I opened my door also with a, 'Hi ..."

Both said at the same time, "Adam had an accident, but HE'S OK!"

After that, the only thing that registered was Adam's sobbing, coming from the side of the van.

He made his way out and over to me, bawling.

At the same time, the Dad was trying to explain what happened.

I put my arm around Adam, taking in that it had something to do with his right hand, given the facecloth wrapped around it and tried to console him, and listen to Dad at the same time.

Something about a doghouse.

And a fence.

And slipped.

And impaled.

And hanging.

And impaled.

And kept pressure on it.

And not alot of blood.

And all of a sudden, I heard very clearly, 'When it first happened, and I asked him 'Are you OK?' and all he said was 'Ohhhhhhhhh SHIT!!!!!' ..... I KNEW it was going to be bad'.

I also remember him saying the fence had gone through Adam's hand, and up into his finger, and he couldn't get his hand off, or himself down.

He was hanging by his hand, People!

Dad said he had to first assess the situation, and then slip Adam's hand back up the piece of fencing that was stuck up there.

It took two tries.

At the same time, he yelled to his wife for a cloth.

As soon as Adam was down, he applied pressure immediately.

And they headed to our house.

We only live a minute away, and all Adam wanted was, 'his Mom'

They said once he was down, that was the first thing he said "I WANT MY MOM'.

So they brought him to me.


OK. I had a handle on the situation.

I was calm.

I was surprised I was calm.

I never thought I'd ever use the word 'impaled' in the same sentence as one of my child's names.

But there ya go.

I was calm.

I might not have been as composed if there had been alot of blood.

That probably would have freaked me out.

But there wasn't. So I didn't.



What I did do, what get Adam in the truck, grabbed his sleepover stuff out of their van, then called his Dad.

When he answered, I said 'I need a favour, NOW!'

I explained I had to take Adam to Emerg right away, and I needed him to go get Alec because they were expecting him to be picked up by 1pm.

He offered to take Adam to the ER and have me go get Alec.

I took him up on that offer.

The ER is only minutes away. He was only minutes away. It worked out perfectly.

We did the swap, and I went to pick up Alec.

Once I got him, we headed for the ER. But first made a pit stop to pick up Adam's uniform and inform his coach he wouldn't be there that day, and possibly at Wed's practice.

Remember, originally we were headed to the ball field for that first practice before ... all this.

Amazing how your day can change in the blink of an eye.



When we got to the hospital. We found them in the waiting room.

Adam had been through triage, and his hand was bandaged.

I could see blood seeping through the little white wrap.

All of a sudden, I heard the Dad's voice in my head again '... impaled'.

Crap.

I still hadn't seen the wound.

Had it gone right through?

Had it damaged any tendons or nerves along the way?

His ring finger on that hand was looking pretty big ... and black.

What if he had to have surgery?

Crap.

Nothing to do but wait.

They had given him something for the pain, and it had obviously kicked in, because he was pretty quiet. Just sitting there.

He tried to tell me the story.

Again, something about 'jumping the doghouse'.

'You jumped the doghouse????'

'NO! I jumped off the doghouse, onto the platform!' he corrected.

Oh. OK. I let it go. For the moment.

About 10 minutes after Alec and I joined them, they called Adam in to be examined.

The first thing they did, was to get him comfortable.

I was glad I had thought to give him his favourite blanket (from his sleepover bag) when he left with his dad.


But after we'd been there awhile, and he knew that he was going to have to have a needle, then stitches, yeah, even the blanket wasn't cutting it so much.

After going for an x-ray, the next thing they had to do, was numb his hand. It actually took two rounds of this, for him to finally lose complete feeling in it.

Then, they gave him a needle.

Then she did an exploratory, to see if there was any internal damage to the hand or finger.


This is where the piece of metal when into his hand, and then up his ring finger. You can see how swollen that finger is, as well as his middle finger.

At one point, while waiting for the needle, Adam looked at me and said "MOM! LOOK! You can see my HAND GUTS!!! UGH!

Just what EVERY mother wants to see. Her child's 'Hand Guts'.

Just after having his finger 'explored' and getting stitched up.

Four hours, three stitches and lots of tears later, it was determined that surgery was NOT required. And there were no broken bones!

The piece of fencing that had gone into his hand, had slid up the finger right next to the tendon, not through it.

YES! Thank you Fates for the little things!

After leaving the hospital, we stopped by his friend's house on the way home, to let them know he was OK.

At the same time, I got 'The Story'.

I saw the fence.

Pic courtesy of KCBS.com

It was surrounding the dog kennel. The three of them had been going from the top of the dog house (which was positioned outside the fence) to a long wooden platform below.

He was holding on to the top of the fence when he made the jump.

When he landed on the wood, because it's been misty here the last couple of days, he slipped.

There was a small piece of metal poking out of the top of the fence. Exactly where he was holding onto.

Somewhat like the pic below, but the piece was longer, and pointing straight up.

Pic courtesy Summit Fence Supply

It wasn't a nice mental image.

Picturing him hanging there. Crying.

And the little flecks of blood still clinging to that small piece of metal didn't help.

But ya know what, he's OK.

It was a crappy thing to go through, but it could have been worse.


When we got home, it was after 6, and I didn't feel like cooking.

I ordered a pizza for pick up.

Adam settled himself in my room, in front of the Friday Night Smackdown I had taped for him the night before.

Alec was vegging in his room. Exhausted from the events of the day (AND the night before).

I left Alec to look after his brother while I went to get dinner, and by the time I got back, 20 min later, Adam was crashed.

Out cold.

Little mummified hand sitting on top of the blanket.

I just stood there, looking at him for a minute.

And thought back to a little earlier, when I had asked him 'You must have been pretty scared when you realized you couldn't get your hand off?'

His eyes had instantly welled up with tears, and he said "Mommy, I thought I was gonna DIE!'

Sigh.

My poor boy.

A hard lesson learned when it comes to playing around fences.


So that's it.

I've already told Hallie, from The Wonderful World of Wieners, that unfortunately, I will no longer be doing any more guest Morbid Monday posts.

I obviously just can't temp Karma that way. That ...

I think I'll just stick to writing about winning the Lottery.

There ya go. Ya hear that Karma?

L-O-T-T-E-R-Y!


K.