Weird $hit

I would like to start this post by telling you about the Zombie Spider living in my mailbox.

I have killed this little fucker approximately eight times recently, but it ALWAYS comes back. Surely by now it should be paying rent!

I have a thing about spiders, they creep me out not unlike that stray black squiggly hair on a bar of soap (especially when you live alone and you have umm well hard wood floors instead of carpet, and the hair on your head is blond) OR plungers and toilet scrubber brush thingies. I mean come on what the hell. it was just hanging in pooy water and then your just supposed to rinse it off and put it in the holder thingy they sell at walmart. NO. THANK. YOU.

I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy because of this little arachnifreak.

Anywhateverandsuch...

Last night after grabbing my new netflix DVD out of the mailbox and wiping off the pooy-webby crap the little bastard leaves behind, I saw it craw out from the back of the box. So utilizing netflix to my advantage I swiped it out onto the street and river danced on its face. Once the legs stopped twitching I was satisfied and went back inside to enjoy my home movie adventure.

This morning as I was backing out of my drive way I glanced at my mailbox as if to say 'don't worry I'll be checking you early today, it's Friday. Half day at work!!!' I noticed the spider hanging off the bottom of my mailbox. I'm pretty sure it was holding a cup of coffee, a cell phone, a mini news paper and flipping me off.

ITS ON, like donkey Kong!


This is kind of two posts in one, but this one is a little strange/sad so I thought Id cushion it with my zombie spider diaries.

My dear Sweet Readers.

I have ESPN, no wait MSNBC, no wait that's not it either CBS? ugh ok the thing is I kind of get these feelings, and sometimes if I'm unlucky enough even dreams. Hold on to your pants blogger friends I do not know the winning lottery numbers so don't ask. Although my mother (who is aware of this 'talent' i have) once had me go into a liquor store with her and pick out scratch off tickets for three hours. Every single one was at least a two dollar winner. (She has kind of a gambling issue)

So anyway, it works in kind of a completely unhelpful way. I very rarely get feelings related to good events/happenings although every so often I can tell you I am going to win something and I will. It's just this certainty I have. I'm also very good at knowing peoples names without them telling me. (I wish I could hone this better, or grow a beard on cue, I'd love to join a circus!)

More often then not, I can tell something bad is going to happen. This is the part that sucks pig nipples, I NEVER know what it is. I get the hollow empty sick feeling in what I am assuming is my soul but is more likely a kidney or spleen. The closer the event gets the worse I feel.

When my pop died, I was six. I came home from school sick with this feeling, an hour later we got the call he had been in a car accident. My Mommom munched it, I was home from work hiding in bed from the feeling. my sister-in-law told me she was pregnant, instantly sick. Less then a month later she was in a car accident and lost the baby. Its not always death though. Every time a boyfriend broke up with me, the night before I was haunted by the feeling. Sometimes the feelings save me, the Husbinator and I took a break for a few months during the first two years of our marriage. (This was not willingly on my part) but I had been having dreams for about two months and I had the feeling the night before. I spent so much time preparing when it happened I didn't feel as crushed as I should have. In fact I felt bad that I didn't feel worse.

Point of all that is this.

Wednesday I got the feeling in the morning, it got worse throughout the day. I must have called the husbinator like ten times a hour checking on him. I called my mom to non-chalantly ask about my father (I assumed the cancer was making a show of itself), About an hour before I got off work It got so bad I found myself praying to the porcelain gods waiting to throw-up.

When I finally got off work and peeled myself of the bathroom floor. I called my mother again. She didn't answer. I hung up and called back. Still. No. Answer. (She always has her phone glued to her head, I'm surprised she doesn't have brain damage, and she ALWAYS picks up the phone if its me. *her sweet baby angel living 1200 miles away*) After about a million tries I called my father, he picked up:

Me: *hysterical scream* "What's wrong"

Father: "Have you talked to your mother?"

Me: "No, what the hell's going on, she didn't answer!"

Father: "(One of my brothers) is taking her to the university hospital, (My sisters kid, my 15yr old nephew, Also my favorite of the eleven nieces and nephews I have.) was flown to shock trauma about an hour ago. That's all I know, Keep trying to call her."

See, are you following.....bad feeling=something bad like nephew almost dieing.

Eventually I talked to my sister. He was in a bad dirt bike accident. Some little fucker thought taking his helmet and riding off would be funny. So my nephew was left to ride home without a helmet. He was with his friend who was riding a ATV they were not racing they were going at an average speed down a dirt road heading home. The front wheel of the ATV clipped the back wheel of my nephews bike. My nephew flew over the handlebars and slide on his back across the road and under a chain link fence, where he got stuck. The dirt bike he was on followed him, slamming into his head. The friend with him, kept calm PICKED the fence up so my nephew could craw out and ripped his shirt off his own back to try to stop the bleeding from my nephews face, then he called 911 and then his father. (I will kiss him when I see him next)

They were not sure he was going to make it, The newspaper used the term 'life threatening injuries'. His whole face is basically one giant fracture. 30+ stitches in his face, staples up the back of his head. Two fractures on his forehead have bleeding behind it and an air pocket. Above and below his left eye is fractured so bad they are thinking about surgery because its pressing on his eye muscle. missing teeth. he's fucked up. and you know how I know he's ok, how I know I'm also his favorite???? He mentioned he got the injuries because I (who am 1200 miles away) beat the shit out of him. <---totally didn't but probably could.

My sister is showing her Italian, shes trying to find the little bastard who took his helmet. Then I'm pretty sure she is going to hire some giant teenager to beat him to mush. (I am in agreeance with this *totally leaning back at the poker table chewing the end of a cigar saying "get Tommy-boy he's a biggen and he owes us for the job we pulled a few months back to get him the answers on the math quiz.")

He has alot of CAT scans scheduled for the future, but it looks like he will be ok. He's going to have some gnarly scars though.

So I guess I'm going to go get a lottery ticket.

~*~Toodles~*~