Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Cuff 'em all, I say!

Several years ago, I spent a particularly forgettable year teaching second-grade Sunday School. It took me and another woman to handle eight kids, including one who was "hyper" and would tell you so … after he got through turning the classroom into something resembling the Baghdad Hilton.

So when I saw the video of the five-year-old who went berserk and wound up in handcuffs, I was filled with secret glee.

Yeah … videos can be misleading, so I won’t make a definitive statement on this particular case. But let it be known: I am sick and tired of seeing kids who beat up on adults and no one does anything about it.

A few years ago, I attended a party of mostly 40-something adults. While noshing in the kitchen, I saw a mother tell her nine- or 10-year-old daughter she couldn’t play outside in the cold. The kid swatted her on the backside; mom did nothing. I nearly dropped my drink.

Later, another woman was calmly – calmly – talking about how her 16-year-old daughter had hit her so hard she’d bruised her arm. Nearly dropped my drink again. I figured the little brat I saw in the kitchen would one day be bruising her mother, too.

Hit my parent? Not unless I wanted to get the worst spanking of my life and be confined to my room for the next decade. It was unthinkable. If you were born in the ‘70s or before, you’re probably nodding your head.

I just don’t get these parents. And don’t tell me I don’t understand because I’m not a mother. I’ve already had to administer the hand-slap to my one-year-old niece when she reached for something she wasn’t supposed to. I will not hesitate to spank her little bottom if she ever strikes Aunt GGB.

And while the moonbat child "experts" complain that I’m "teaching her violence," the kids who aren’t spanked continue to spiral out of control and wind up top story on the evening news.

Or maybe that's the point – to get your 15 minutes of fame via your psycho child?

New digs

Finally, FINALLY got moved in! Still a lot of boxes to unpack. My home office looks like a warehouse.

My male cat only took a few hours to leave the safe haven of my lingerie drawer, but the female is still hiding under the bed.

More later.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Random thoughts ... er ... rants

Blogging may continue to be sporadic until the GGB gets her living situation situated. Until then, here are random thoughts (rants) of the day:

Worst thing about moving: Spending money. (On movers, deposits, cleaning services, boxes.)

Best thing about moving: Spending money. (On new curtains, rugs, appliances, etc.)

Dumbest anti-illegal-immigration argument: "We’re a nation of immigrants." No, we are not. For the record, I am not an immigrant. My ancestors arrived in the Carolinas more than 300 years ago, so I think I am safely in the category of "native." Don’t try that argument on me again, or I will not be responsible for my actions.

People’s faces I am sick of seeing: Martha Stewart. Britney Spears. Michael Jackson. I don’t give a rat’s patoot about any of them and it scares me that so many people do.

Dang funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time: Jay Leno’s "Jay Walking" segment on The Tonight Show. You can download clips from the show’s Web site. Hilarious.

Best anti-tax-day rant: The invincible Rachel Lucas at Blue-eyed Infidel strikes again. Makes me feel better that I still haven’t filed my taxes. (Ooops!)

So that’s why I’m still single:

If you have time to kill: You must check out one or more of these sites:

OK. Back to real life. Have a great day.

Friday, April 01, 2005

The GGB is tired

I am tired, folks.

Eyes-glazing-over, brain-fuzzed, desperately-need-a-12-hour-nap tired. I'm chugging Coke and snarfing Nutter Butters (I know ... awful but terribly delicious) in a desperate attempt to elevate my blood sugar.

It's been a major week. Between the wrenching dynamics of the Terri Schiavo case and more mundane but also important issues such as my impending change of residence, I am "'bout ready to tump over," as we say in the South. And I'm recovering from the crud.l I'm supposed to have dinner tonight with a friend at our favorite Indian restaurant, and I hope I don't flop face down in the sev betata puri.