What I would do with 100 million dollars.

Someday, when I win the lottery primarily through osmosis (since I don't play--the lottery is a tax on people who can't do math), I will have none of the worldly concerns that plague normal folks, and will be able to do the things on this list of Things To Do When I Am Filthy Stinking Rich. But unlike rich folks like Dick Cheney and Donald Trump, I won't concern myself with making America the butt of the world's jokes. Instead, this is what I'd do, in no particular order:

1. Buy the six houses to the left of us and build a reasonably sized maison du moi. Nothing too fancy or showy, just a 2 story modern mansion with a red lacquer door and big glass windows and a pool shaped like a kidney. It would have a koi pond, a hot tub, a japanese garden with tiny bonsais for the dogs to eat, a garage to house the ridiculous vehicles we will own but not drive, a recording studio, and not one, but THREE sewing rooms. To get to the front door, the general public will have to wind their way through a shrubbery maze which may, or may not, lead them right back out onto the street. Of course, me and the rest of my family and friends will get to the house by sliding down a secret tunnel on a rickety go-kart.

There might also be a moat, I haven't decided yet.

2. My husband will promptly quit his job so he can write full-time. In his spare time, he will fill up with tattoos and go bike riding so he doesn't balloon up from all the delicious food we will be eating, freed from the restraints of having to learn to cook, clean up after ourselves, and shop for groceries without being held at gunpoint.


3. My son, sister, sister-in-law, nieces, Aunt's adopted step-grandson, best friends' now and future kids, rest of friends' kids, Sister-in-law's sister's and brother's kids, and anyone else under eighteen remotely related to me by blood or just because I like them will be given the funds to go all the way through graduate school, should they decide they want to. I'll even pay someone to nag them if they don't. Bail, however, will be a case-by-case basis.

4. My mother, father, sister, brother, in-laws, favourite auntie, favourite auntie-in-law, best friend's mother, and bandmates will have their houses paid off.

5. My two bestest friends will have NEW houses bought next to mine. I'll also grease the wheels of the american immigration system so that this is no longer a problem, since we all know that's how politics work here. I'll buy vacation houses in Scotland and Mexico (which is where they live now) so they can go home any time they want.

6. My band will record albums because we'll all have free time and won't be dependent on the inspirationally-bankrupt american recording system. We'll fill the world with pure rock fury, then go home to sleep it off.

7. My business will get a lot busier. Also, I'll have the help people are always yelling at me to get. We'll give Wal-Mart a run for their money and still employ union labour while making things that don't fall apart before you get the tags off.

8. I'll set up small business grants and low-income merit scholarships. I'll give no-interest loans to businesses that want to invest in mom and pop shops in poverty stricken areas, so developers can't just let them go to shit and buy the land to make Home Depots.

9. My husband would get his all-original parts metallic-fleck-blue-with-white-racing stripes Shelby Cobra, which he could drive on the racetrack I would build over the ashes of our old high school--which I would buy so I could set it afire.

10. I would have a jet-black Chevelle SS hardtop with mag wheels, chrome pipes, blood red velvet interior, fuzzy dice, eightball gearshaft, and 6 CD changer with Social Distortion, Misfits, Distillers, Joan Jett, Donnas, and Johnny Cash playing at ear-splitting levels.

11. I would have the prettiest hair in all the land. People would pay me a dollar to touch it.

12. I would sponsor the Arch Rival Roller Girls, and buy them a roller rink of their own, with a black and red floor and a water fountain that spews Pabst. I would pay the Cramps to be the house band. They in turn would teach me to skate, a feat I have never mastered--not even when I was skating age.

13. Tattoos would start appearing once a year in various places.

14. Social Distortion would play my birthday party. Every single year.

15. I would buy some bars so St. Louis would have more small venues for bands. Bouncers would throw out anyone who owned a Dave Matthews Band CD. Every band who showed promise would be given a recording contract and a puppy.

16. I would buy an old movie theatre and play anything I want, whether it was current or not. People would be able to see Hedwig, Velvet Goldmine, and Spinal Tap every friday. We would have Jon Waters and David Lynch film festivals. Absolutely nothing with Tom Cruise or Julia Roberts would be allowed. People could get a free tickets for burning American Pie and Scary Movie DVDs. You could buy chicken vindaloo and mojitos at the concession counter. We would have Cadbury's cream eggs year round.

17. I would bring Johnny Cash, Joey Ramone, and Wesley Willis back to life. I would pay to have O.J. and Jeb Bush locked up and then ass-raped. I would have Precious Moments figurine smashing contests. There would be cotton candy every day until I got sick of it.

18. I would pay to have David Beckham train my husband's mostly-lesbian soccer team to mop the floor with their competition so people will stop feeling sorry for them. I would also buy my husband less fruity soccer shorts.

Now I'm hungry. I'm going to use my somewhat limited funds to go buy Cadbury's cream eggs while they're still around. I'm sure there are more things to do with 100 milion dollars, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. I'm sure building the moat will keep me busy for a while.

Yeah, so I've already broken one of three resolutions, right?

But hey, I have a kid. Anyone who's ever had a kid knows what tiny germ factories they are come January, so all three of us have been sick; one right after the other. I'm lucky to have been able to work this past week, and that's for cash. Writing is for free, so it takes a back back back burner.

But all that is neither here nor there; I'm here to tell a story. A true story, but for anonymity's sake I will not mention names.

My husband works at a warehouse from whence many of these stories spring. This particular one happened off-site, at a dirty hole-in-the-wall bar, and it stars the youngest member of a large, crazy, wall-eyed, possibly meth addled clan of river rats that work with him. They're good enough people, but they're the kind of people you're glad to see leave a party before something gets burnt down.

Apparentally, this young gentleman was drinking himself silly at a south side bar, and he got into an altercation with another genteel patron. In the ensuing fracas, this kid was forcibly ejected from the bar. The other guy was allowed to stay, and showed his appreciation for this by teasing the poor boy through the bar's front plate glass window. We like to call this 'poking the bear'. It's not suggested, whether dealing with the Insanity Clan or actual bears. The reason why will become clear.

Our hero, who had been drinking since the sun was still up, was feeling no pain. This was helpful because he decided to punch the guy through the plate glass window. When he came to, he had 60 stitches from his wrist to his shoulder, and he was arrested for assault.

But that's not the kicker. The kicker is that he knocked the guy out. With one punch, delivered through a plate glass window.

Suffice it to say, we are very happy that he likes my husband. Someone who suffers from that much of a restraint deficit is someone you definitely prefer on your side. It's marginally less dangerous.

And there you have it. Idiot one from Idiotville.

10 Random things about me:

1. I have an adorable kid.
2. I have four tattooes, with plans to get more.
3. I am terrified of zombies. No, really.
4. I sing in a band.
5. I turn 37 this year.
6. People generally think I'm 5-7 years younger than I really am.
7. I'm legally blind without my glasses.
8. Someday I really really want a hedgehog.
9. I would have taken my husband's last name if it wasn't longer than mine.
10. I've only been in Wal-Mart a total of 5 times in my whole life.



10 Things I Abhor

1. SUVS
2. religious wackos
3. Nike
4. McDonalds
5. Stupid People
6. Wal-Mart
7. bleached blonde hair
8. diamonds
9. yellow gold
10. chick flicks


10 Things I Love like Kittens

1. My little hell-raiser
2. his dad, my husband
3. muscle cars
4. good tattoos
5. Social Distortion
6. peep toed heels
7. a good pair of jeans
8. Vonnegut
9. MAC lipstick
10. My darling goofball friends.

Okay, so when I'm lazy, you'll be subject to a lot of lists.

So the year turned over.

I meant for my first post to be the first day of the year, but like so many other good ideas I have, life hit them out of the park. I don't know who, if anyone, will be reading this, but since I've taken out all identifying information in this blog, I promise you stories of fuckups I have known with no punches pulled, sarcasm galore, and streams of near-unconsciousness all tied together with questionable grammar and morals.

Except for today, which is all about the things I mean to change this year.

1. Exercise. Yeah, it's everybody's resolution. So what. It's everybody's resolution because it's so hard to do. Let's face it, exercise is bo-fucking-ring. I would rather clean the toilet with my hair. If the vials of crack that GNC sells didn't make peoples hearts explode, I might consider popping a pill instead of making myself a sweaty, stinky, yoga-panted, painful mess. I run around all day after my kid, but it's not the type of exercise that makes the baby belly go away, so I'm doing something else about it.

And of course, by "something", I mean "buying Carmen Electra's Strip Aerobics DVD set". If Pamela Anderson thinks it's a good idea, well.....I''ll still try it anyway. My husband rolls his eyes when I ask for a stripper pole, but hey, if you have to work out, you may as well make it interesting. If it's not, well, that toilet can always use a good clean.


2. Paint the goddamn house. We bought my house from my gramma. (nothing morbid, she just didn't want to take care of it herself anymore.) The carpet in said house was installed when my mother was in high school. In 1960. It's avocado green short pile wall-to-wall carpet with dog hair and stains and holes worn through to the lovely hardwood floor underneath. (If I ran the universe, people who carpet over hardwood floors would have a plague of locusts invade their eyelids. Except my grandparents, who get a pass for everything because I love them like cake.)

We can't pull up this nasty mess until we paint, because I want it to be useful just once: as a dropcloth. Then I want to burn it in the backyard while laughing maniacally.

We've been in the house for four years now. Every year, we say "this is the year we paint.". Every year passes. Except this year. This is the year we paint.


3. Write. Here, specifically. I used to write in journals and diaries when I was younger, but that was because I was unhappy most of the time, and I write more when I'm unhappy. Then I met my husband to be, and as sappy as it may sound, I just sorta stopped. Life became a lot calmer, and even though we still have the ups and downs that are endemic of humanity, they just don't seem to shred me as much as they did when I was alone.

Unfortunately, a lot of the experience of the last 9 years has passed out of recollection, lost forever. If I have only a handful of posts at the end of 2007, it will still be a handful that wasn't there before.

It's wierd to me that I've now been with my husband for almost a decade. Wierder still that it encompasses nearly a third of my total years on this planet.

Anyway, that's all the resolve I can muster. That and making sure I do at least 75 crunches a day, and getting an IUD. But y'all didn't really need to know about that last one. My bad.

I promise next time I write I'll start telling the stories that inspired the title of this blog. I have a ton, and they just keep getting funnier.