tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20258070484570417782024-03-13T23:10:45.545-05:00Rockyn Robyn's WorldThe useless day-to-day stuff of life written by a WICKED AWESOME Robyn.Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-25584450865650443262009-04-16T19:02:00.003-05:002009-04-16T19:23:48.203-05:00Something Worth Blogging About...<div align="justify">Once again, I've neglected my blog. I haven't had much to write home about these days.....I've joined the ranks of the unemployed. It's rough hitting those buttons on the phone each week to collect my unemployment. (do you smell sarcasim?) Optimistically on the job hunt, I took a week to travel to the great state of Texas for the wedding of Jim's cousin Amber and her new husband, Daniel.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">It was storybook from the word go! With the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin as the backdrop, it was a beautiful evening wedding.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Here's Uncle Jesse (no, he doesn't own a white pick-up, nor does he wear overalls) giving his little girl away in her $10,000 gown. !!!! (she's an attorney for Austin's biggest law firm...smart cookie, that girl....and she DID pay for that dress on her own.)</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbp_5K2BAtuz2eQC3BkagsGLd97zcpCXOkOUE4JJK7ZndD344gD_Y4TERs8lWfPxuXy01zdgHx9dU-PM9IsqFd6j55sXR4b1IHNcGwx6vwCSDFBmiwOQpn2HnrLnc_EF7aiqIdEzqNRmE/s1600-h/jesseandamber.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325445769921881058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbp_5K2BAtuz2eQC3BkagsGLd97zcpCXOkOUE4JJK7ZndD344gD_Y4TERs8lWfPxuXy01zdgHx9dU-PM9IsqFd6j55sXR4b1IHNcGwx6vwCSDFBmiwOQpn2HnrLnc_EF7aiqIdEzqNRmE/s320/jesseandamber.jpg" border="0" /></a> Jim even took his suit out of the back of the closet for the shindig.</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfDA8JIHIcbR56tnRSDcLUAc-cw76xyEM4uIeryx5pNces48MvWnOIHhPix1blytR8JHkAw41qBf0FEcnQ0p6zmO_cr1X8CjLF6oNwZ9rhujCTRdxZC5KEvKl6MenTsvNmuDjZXooUs/s1600-h/jimandrobyn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325445767280687618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfDA8JIHIcbR56tnRSDcLUAc-cw76xyEM4uIeryx5pNces48MvWnOIHhPix1blytR8JHkAw41qBf0FEcnQ0p6zmO_cr1X8CjLF6oNwZ9rhujCTRdxZC5KEvKl6MenTsvNmuDjZXooUs/s320/jimandrobyn.jpg" border="0" /></a> I finally got to meet his cousin, Corey, who lost his dad (Jim's uncle) 12 days after Jim lost his. Corey's not tall, Jim is just extremely fun sized.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj148YzdmqavOst3viOHjWSVTS9qF5G809r0FCSquK284Zfli-jINlPHx_hP-skHGA2ColtxiLmYLTFEMDmHQ9S8DHFfKOAJJy4uXVr9ZVEqEhO13zzNsshsx0S8IPlwVWi_p2WfEEmTCQ/s1600-h/cool+cousins.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325445767105737858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj148YzdmqavOst3viOHjWSVTS9qF5G809r0FCSquK284Zfli-jINlPHx_hP-skHGA2ColtxiLmYLTFEMDmHQ9S8DHFfKOAJJy4uXVr9ZVEqEhO13zzNsshsx0S8IPlwVWi_p2WfEEmTCQ/s320/cool+cousins.jpg" border="0" /></a> Amber's guy, Dan, is a computer engineer....so between the 2 of them, I'm sure they are sitting very well.....they are honeymooning in Maui.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUewmEg_Dds5PMzeot3LSF7wI1_qNCOY7MtNdcCgG68L8p0B9TWl8JRbijgLgYIaE-b5ZmBysyGYZTh2f3FvhfGs6YDtbk6N6nzjIUQvIrtD83yxUTQgABGgfVJG_lHSN3_RlzGny0wQ/s1600-h/amber2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325445760053536578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUewmEg_Dds5PMzeot3LSF7wI1_qNCOY7MtNdcCgG68L8p0B9TWl8JRbijgLgYIaE-b5ZmBysyGYZTh2f3FvhfGs6YDtbk6N6nzjIUQvIrtD83yxUTQgABGgfVJG_lHSN3_RlzGny0wQ/s320/amber2.jpg" border="0" /></a> It was just about the prettiest wedding I've ever attended. She looked like Cinderella.....it appears that I do not have my pics in the correct order, but you get the idea.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdMucMN7aC2fRCbcFB_pB8FYGSHi0-k7cEkpypD4KCyAprczG7vokSVnP3PiRr2pPzC1UBx4Ye5VW6UAnL1H5zr3J8vhUcebIaQ1xLmxczWAjqi3hPKDAud2TSd2_QJOnMCzQ1s8Uc1k/s1600-h/amber1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325445756033625394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBdMucMN7aC2fRCbcFB_pB8FYGSHi0-k7cEkpypD4KCyAprczG7vokSVnP3PiRr2pPzC1UBx4Ye5VW6UAnL1H5zr3J8vhUcebIaQ1xLmxczWAjqi3hPKDAud2TSd2_QJOnMCzQ1s8Uc1k/s320/amber1.jpg" border="0" /></a> Congrats, Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Weigl!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-19459431146883462012009-03-01T13:58:00.002-06:002009-03-01T14:05:35.841-06:00Haven't Blogged in a While....<div style="text-align: justify;">Damn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span>.<br /><br />It has kept me from Blogging in a while....that and a wicked nasty stomach virus that has kept me down and out here and there....<br /><br />After a few weeks of violent incidents in the bathroom, I decided I needed to visit the doctor.<br /><br />Much to my surprise, I had a virus that attacks the lining of your stomach and can go dormant if it so desires instead of just going away.<br /><br />Mine went dormant, and a few glasses of white wine woke it up......with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">vengeance</span>.<br /><br />So its been a rough couple of weeks, and I had no idea my stomach could get so angry at me, but I think I am slowly on the mend - and I'm hoping by the time we go away to Texas for a week in April, I won't have such wicked bathroom emergencies. That could make for a miserable trip.<br /><br /><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-81659891344086774192009-02-07T11:03:00.004-06:002009-02-07T11:10:51.372-06:00Becky's Birthday Breakfast.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Ck4Xwh1ZioDXnbDATw7noza1oLny8LVpA0pczY7iGjhmj3Ah0bYcX402NWDfj14jgF_VJDs_z9B-OTThkfB-vl8kpRdgg-S8Nqx6MirEg779EouaNCmSSUu4Wadyge5WWbNnE0uLBaE/s1600-h/bdonut.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Ck4Xwh1ZioDXnbDATw7noza1oLny8LVpA0pczY7iGjhmj3Ah0bYcX402NWDfj14jgF_VJDs_z9B-OTThkfB-vl8kpRdgg-S8Nqx6MirEg779EouaNCmSSUu4Wadyge5WWbNnE0uLBaE/s320/bdonut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300102210624206658" border="0" /></a>My baby turned 17 yesterday. Man I feel old.<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So for her birthday, we made our maiden voyage to the Donut Whole this morning for some breakfast yumminess. Becky and I are officially in love with the Maple Bacon donuts. Fabulous. I also had a Pumpkin Ginger Snap.......wonderful. I worked my ass off at the gym for those donuts, and I enjoyed every sweet moment of it.<br /><br />Miss Becky is a tad obsessed with photographing toilets - namely public ones (I'm not sure where she gets her eclectic/odd hobbies, <span style="font-style: italic;">SURELY</span> not me) so of course, she had to snag my camera and make a beeeeeeline for the can.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She was pleasantly suprised:<br /></div></div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl_vfdCl6NRhedoac3_eAICo0nVo7VwTetYpX-nACpzPb2mt4VtKLaj3YwBgmmkE14SFaNJ9Apqe22iw-UFSOYd8GHQQPuXNevMZuwoQiXt9l39mWqYgoTO-HkL56FYIA10e7v1GS7DA/s1600-h/donutcan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl_vfdCl6NRhedoac3_eAICo0nVo7VwTetYpX-nACpzPb2mt4VtKLaj3YwBgmmkE14SFaNJ9Apqe22iw-UFSOYd8GHQQPuXNevMZuwoQiXt9l39mWqYgoTO-HkL56FYIA10e7v1GS7DA/s320/donutcan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300102210373155362" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIWaz7ulkUlwWir1dp0FIx8tLfK316JgD4TFQaI_JqdpHYIorq_6OJX9cppz6b44sGPzhTZD6hqmiVoslJlcYNd0NjXk-UTIm0abxg_1DbY5LcO7zbPjGlnKpdpGLrpVRpolA0lKCFug/s1600-h/donutwings.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIWaz7ulkUlwWir1dp0FIx8tLfK316JgD4TFQaI_JqdpHYIorq_6OJX9cppz6b44sGPzhTZD6hqmiVoslJlcYNd0NjXk-UTIm0abxg_1DbY5LcO7zbPjGlnKpdpGLrpVRpolA0lKCFug/s320/donutwings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300102208356613762" border="0" /></a>I'm pretty stoked that the Donut Whole is open 6 a.m. to midnight, and the drive-thru is open 24hrs. RIGHT ON!!!!Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-42400442339896476812009-01-24T14:36:00.004-06:002009-01-24T14:56:17.534-06:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaBlo39kAZWeOtbEQFCo_q-ojpsE6UGmdcp6tzqU1EwqzzkMeZZqbriJ9NuK5Qil2mkCU65eaZnvuuGMCIECw6yNn1g8fqq2DSCMeoH6IB7LDbiVW67bp58EZTQS5w3W_ILQBWe8jjqk/s1600-h/joaquin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaBlo39kAZWeOtbEQFCo_q-ojpsE6UGmdcp6tzqU1EwqzzkMeZZqbriJ9NuK5Qil2mkCU65eaZnvuuGMCIECw6yNn1g8fqq2DSCMeoH6IB7LDbiVW67bp58EZTQS5w3W_ILQBWe8jjqk/s320/joaquin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294961954197936338" border="0" /></a>Can someone please tell me,<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">WHAT IN THE HOLY HELL<br />HAS HAPPENED TO JOAQUIN PHOENIX?!?!?!?</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Apparently he has announced that he is quitting acting forever and is going to be a musician. Whatever man, that's cool, I LOVED LOVED LOVED you in <span style="font-style: italic;"></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Walk the Line</span>, but COME ON, DUDE! TAKE A FRICKIN' SHOWER, OR SOMETHING. Damn. AND......1986 called, they want their sunglasses back.<br /></div></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-44802026613970643402009-01-24T12:55:00.007-06:002009-01-24T13:14:13.492-06:00Family comes to Visit.<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5BcauBKY1LM-_zg5-vmhPNIpEnRPEfiLLEqL_LrgU9S0nukTt-as9jfQ78uA9fdCWaGFkNu6Sx4g3AyIaNNnm4ZiDxmUaDlu06o-gHUOJjhDRnSPMc3jjOWsmTioi_JUpIgUspbN1aY/s1600-h/mendavid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5BcauBKY1LM-_zg5-vmhPNIpEnRPEfiLLEqL_LrgU9S0nukTt-as9jfQ78uA9fdCWaGFkNu6Sx4g3AyIaNNnm4ZiDxmUaDlu06o-gHUOJjhDRnSPMc3jjOWsmTioi_JUpIgUspbN1aY/s320/mendavid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294938745012612882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">HEY LOOK!</span> My double chin is going away!<br />Those workouts and dreadful low-fat lunch-cicles must be working!!<br /></div><br />My brother, David and his wife and kids came for a Kansas visit. They're in Texas - my brother is an engineer for Fox Sports. For everything Fox, actually. He's my favorite techno-geek. He invited us out to the sticks, just south of Goddard last night, to join them for dinner at his in-laws. Nothin' like country cookin'!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDLY1sDh0f4et-lh-CXWsqUpFuTbVgp_W6o6k_BWi4M_KZS3nIeK52zuVk-tp0yb5k0_n7VanQgdlqOiQqWEyTb2G1yF5Fx11mivQjMbaygHKW7cbRL0j6SGP5Olbdn5vvkMsm2nEck0/s1600-h/joshua.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDLY1sDh0f4et-lh-CXWsqUpFuTbVgp_W6o6k_BWi4M_KZS3nIeK52zuVk-tp0yb5k0_n7VanQgdlqOiQqWEyTb2G1yF5Fx11mivQjMbaygHKW7cbRL0j6SGP5Olbdn5vvkMsm2nEck0/s320/joshua.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294936974974940306" border="0" /></a>My nephew Joshua turns 5 today. He's having a big Batman themed pizza party. I'm missing it because I'm working, but its just as well - my family is very disfunctional, and I really don't need the stress. Uncle Jimmy and I bought him Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends" - I'm sure he'll be thrilled to pieces to get a damn book for his birthday - but we also got a pirate ship to assemble. Uncle Jimmy got sent to the party to bear the brunt of my family hell.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Bht1_jEK6hc6HaM47enU0ZvzvJqv5m4yZOVm0JI1UbfQmnOvRfwSNw0Ij8HxKjgZwFaWXEkagk9Ed1WyR6uSaAJGTlysXJ-7eivt6LN5UA8mvu9v1yTZOTTw8VtlNvCAIYYWwrTYJ7k/s1600-h/olivia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Bht1_jEK6hc6HaM47enU0ZvzvJqv5m4yZOVm0JI1UbfQmnOvRfwSNw0Ij8HxKjgZwFaWXEkagk9Ed1WyR6uSaAJGTlysXJ-7eivt6LN5UA8mvu9v1yTZOTTw8VtlNvCAIYYWwrTYJ7k/s320/olivia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294936974719417458" border="0" /></a>My niece, Olivia, is growing so fast! She's almost a year old and I can already tell she's going to be a LOT like her Aunt Robyn - chatty, chatty. She's a talker! I have no idea what she's saying, but I am positive its very important.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_X0UDzYvNSRRB-XN_bmaMjqaTRViTcuyKKFXrYc0S7gQIp2Q5xXOCTsQjctmozcGJEpc-AjSKrNlp-hySB1T2Ij-3pHX3NjSWz0uwW7sjocOeZxSR-1t3qvNLDDZZhnygbQhOjOQSBk/s1600-h/olivia2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_X0UDzYvNSRRB-XN_bmaMjqaTRViTcuyKKFXrYc0S7gQIp2Q5xXOCTsQjctmozcGJEpc-AjSKrNlp-hySB1T2Ij-3pHX3NjSWz0uwW7sjocOeZxSR-1t3qvNLDDZZhnygbQhOjOQSBk/s320/olivia2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294936967376225346" border="0" /></a>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-75223542500234979202009-01-19T19:11:00.003-06:002009-01-20T09:14:11.163-06:00Went to see The Keeper.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNppI7N1vaU3G_o-2gk02aAVNhQs6K4xmbgKT6uyhqi_rBvnI5wK23Qhug3pEhhrwrVIieItrggwViXw8lZaaGpjRMekWcP2l5dI3Yu91Ddp0KsW__QgMf1p589px51jogHgZ3yLl-82Y/s1600-h/troll.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293177863127918226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNppI7N1vaU3G_o-2gk02aAVNhQs6K4xmbgKT6uyhqi_rBvnI5wK23Qhug3pEhhrwrVIieItrggwViXw8lZaaGpjRMekWcP2l5dI3Yu91Ddp0KsW__QgMf1p589px51jogHgZ3yLl-82Y/s320/troll.jpg" border="0" /></a> and found a TROLL.....<br /><br /><div align="left">Last night, Becky, Jimbo and I went down to see The Keeper of the Plains after dark (lovely, but I couldn't get a good picture to save my life).</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Becky drug us on quite a little hike just east of there to a spillover grate illuminated inside by a green light. Creepy.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Right there, down inside the grate was a troll! CREEEEEPY. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I never even knew he was there. Chained to the beams and wearing sandals. He must be seen at night for full effect though....cause he's CREEEEEEEEPY. </div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-28617470340629974512009-01-18T13:18:00.005-06:002009-01-18T15:10:17.187-06:00Saturday Night with the Kid.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-TiHr57k9aop05nmW9HXepPYIywM6PI8jmWoHVySL8FiGPAA9TgGEuf-gRoqDzSk5WgAby16MCD2vyaoCSlcNNbDC-IlivXOGJkriv68Fx-Yvag8heZh85lKD9FGDQLqB11Lie-WwXs/s1600-h/wag2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-TiHr57k9aop05nmW9HXepPYIywM6PI8jmWoHVySL8FiGPAA9TgGEuf-gRoqDzSk5WgAby16MCD2vyaoCSlcNNbDC-IlivXOGJkriv68Fx-Yvag8heZh85lKD9FGDQLqB11Lie-WwXs/s320/wag2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292715514415096530" border="0" /></a>I have discovered that the <span style="font-style: italic;">Daryl Starbird Rod & Custom Show</span> every January is the same old stuff. So I think I'm going to have to skip a few years so I don't get so dreadfully bored. The highlight for me is stalking the folks at the <span style="font-style: italic;">Midwest Airbrush & Pinstriping Guild</span> booth. I'm sure they're sick to death of me.<br /><br />Becky, Jimbo and myself attended last night, to the tune of $16 a piece. Sheesh. When Mr. Starbird runs off to the big car show in the sky, I hope its on the weekend and his family chooses to run a big gigantic obituary so I can get my damn money back.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_atQkntuqEacCcKqSGJ53d-MQYD6-sJoJU9NKDnIwt_n4TUCblF2SkdAavxJVDIfhB6d8rF_kGInsqGlPL_4Cz0cmQOB9aP2O3JsXCLHkbgra6MH0Eof9hnWF30v637YgzEp3xE7A_iQ/s1600-h/blckwid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_atQkntuqEacCcKqSGJ53d-MQYD6-sJoJU9NKDnIwt_n4TUCblF2SkdAavxJVDIfhB6d8rF_kGInsqGlPL_4Cz0cmQOB9aP2O3JsXCLHkbgra6MH0Eof9hnWF30v637YgzEp3xE7A_iQ/s320/blckwid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292715502683264690" border="0" /></a>Speaking of death, I do believe my favorite exhibit was the copy of <span style="font-style: italic;">"The Black Widow"</span> horse drawn hearse. The undertaker that came with it was one super cool dude....big black top hat and all. Becky & I were in agreement that he looked like Ted Nugent.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1I6MYaleH6f1_ix200dwsP9V7R2iFWlCaau08GR41KhyjPvOjehheOGFITRo99pndxvTpICyzLJUpcEHpw1FsecBlREEbFSJQ1F0-t2pioircm1uPlX1_zrEbl78Yn7bI65-nKVlko1k/s1600-h/undertaker.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1I6MYaleH6f1_ix200dwsP9V7R2iFWlCaau08GR41KhyjPvOjehheOGFITRo99pndxvTpICyzLJUpcEHpw1FsecBlREEbFSJQ1F0-t2pioircm1uPlX1_zrEbl78Yn7bI65-nKVlko1k/s320/undertaker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292715501230600418" border="0" /></a>I love it when Becky spends time with us on the weekend. Its few and far between with high school and an after school job....me working the weekends......but when the stars are in alignment, she's got a day off from work and there's a teacher in-service Monday, we have us a good time!<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiNGQ404xqUqPQ5eNKf0UTRbTkGwWESSOpf4vwC-RSR51hh031J2VjbpiC9REMQymL4oQSj9Ql3mA7LKKbkp6UQahB74oNjGfPJPtu_x7QNM5EXUitlRbEBsIKFxGB6roAnN3HiwPeGk/s1600-h/meandbex.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiNGQ404xqUqPQ5eNKf0UTRbTkGwWESSOpf4vwC-RSR51hh031J2VjbpiC9REMQymL4oQSj9Ql3mA7LKKbkp6UQahB74oNjGfPJPtu_x7QNM5EXUitlRbEBsIKFxGB6roAnN3HiwPeGk/s320/meandbex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292715489549894690" border="0" /></a>She's a tad cooky like her mother though, and just like mom, she appreciates the unusual things in life. Becky and I always seem to find ourselves laughing at the dumbest stuff and embarrassing the heck out of Jimbo......He needs to loosen up.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3K3IxcQFjaPcDAHRksUQkzFx32EP5xFfdwO9FKX8JaAWxYUeNRG_kfp42RNW3m__fFf9wiXQTnLFSCVNqi_fBF_x2mcgxPSzXo1nJ2YguWFyc1_8hlCeCrIu2Qle8wl1uLKOZ-C9lPE/s1600-h/bex2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3K3IxcQFjaPcDAHRksUQkzFx32EP5xFfdwO9FKX8JaAWxYUeNRG_kfp42RNW3m__fFf9wiXQTnLFSCVNqi_fBF_x2mcgxPSzXo1nJ2YguWFyc1_8hlCeCrIu2Qle8wl1uLKOZ-C9lPE/s320/bex2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292715485385956962" border="0" /></a>Here's mommy's little angel checking out some rockabilly boys just out of shot of my camera.<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-6753240151388680152009-01-11T11:56:00.006-06:002009-01-11T13:35:10.468-06:00Open Letter to John Travolta.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0uZMKBe5K4_T5wDJUI4sXnIT0vV3cnUs3N66lrm4jVmLTCeBIlQ08_b2YjTRHRpeGxPw_jFhXS3NWSG-3K5Jg2mlJbrU5XwoX4xeOhpQWZg8Cjitv0mRG168eNYd6pPv4PjFu4UoVhI/s1600-h/john.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0uZMKBe5K4_T5wDJUI4sXnIT0vV3cnUs3N66lrm4jVmLTCeBIlQ08_b2YjTRHRpeGxPw_jFhXS3NWSG-3K5Jg2mlJbrU5XwoX4xeOhpQWZg8Cjitv0mRG168eNYd6pPv4PjFu4UoVhI/s320/john.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290096614773196882" border="0" /></a>Dear Mr. Travolta,<br /><br />I enjoyed our visit this morning.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Allow me to explain.....</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I was having my weekly "Cup of Coffee with a Celebrity" this morning (A.K.A. watching <span style="font-style: italic;">Inside the Actors Studio</span> in my jammies with a mug o' joe) and suddenly found myself glued to the television and mesmerized by your all around nice guy-ness, clinging to your every word.<br /><br />I mean, sure, I've seen every movie you've ever made, <span style="font-style: italic;">Grease</span> repeatedly, <span style="font-style: italic;">Urban Cowboy</span> like, a million times, (<span style="font-style: italic;">Pulp Fiction</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Michael</span> are my fav's though) and back in the day I watched <span style="font-style: italic;">Welcome Back Kotter </span>reruns like a damn fool, but I've never considered myself a fan, like FANATIC fan or anything....<br />But today I have a whole new respect for you. I found your humble, genuine kindness quite refreshing. I was especially touched by the statement you made on how everyone has something very interesting about themselves to share - you just have to know the right questions to ask to find it. And your thoughts on not letting what others might say or think of you affect your outlook on your life or your career - well, that was just brilliant. You seem morally sound.<br /><br />I must confess, as a very lazy Methodist, I used to scoff and roll my eyes at your religious choices, and admittedly, I know nothing about Scientology. With that said though, you seem to be an honest man of great integrity, and I dig that.<br /><br />I'm totally adding you to my list of people, living and/or dead, that I would like to meet. You're going straight to the top of that list.<br /><br />If you ever find yourself in Wichita on some sort of aviation-type business, call me. We'll do lunch. I can't make a bierock to save my life, but maybe we could go down to the McDonald's and get a Royale or Le Big Mac.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Rockyn Robyn<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-24782145659915942942009-01-06T16:39:00.003-06:002009-01-06T16:54:58.631-06:00The Bierock Still Eludes Me.<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKeac37RdLL03fPY_WPWL0zJzLmwdxJmTkHKacLOu4O-9XtEg1rqbxFidyYLCEPSWz7TV9QkCjvGAn_YtKxXlueViRZXYoeWgROWlyhW9_sp_5NOi-bh7VySwjhhRNJ1NwTJQhLq_E90/s1600-h/bierock.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288315468561299186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKeac37RdLL03fPY_WPWL0zJzLmwdxJmTkHKacLOu4O-9XtEg1rqbxFidyYLCEPSWz7TV9QkCjvGAn_YtKxXlueViRZXYoeWgROWlyhW9_sp_5NOi-bh7VySwjhhRNJ1NwTJQhLq_E90/s320/bierock.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><em>This is not any creation of mine.</em></strong><br /><div align="justify">"Operation Not Scared" took an ugly turn today. I took on a new project and failed. On Sunday, I attempted Crock Pot Beans and Ham, and it turned out so well, I got cocky.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Needless to say, what came out the other end of my cooking venture today was edible, but by no means did it even closely resemble a bierock.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I am not letting this culinary failure beat me down. It just makes me even more determined to get it mastered.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Heather? I may need a lesson in the ways of the Bierock. I'm just sayin'.</div><div align="justify"><br /><br /></div><div align="justify"></div></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-85366066986202350572009-01-04T12:32:00.031-06:002009-01-04T16:55:48.935-06:00Starting 2009 Off With a Bang.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZLOSSm2x-qxp2v4IcjiHfNRxRGrSq3F2CK6eEl-9NzRdUVM3m86W5cEWZVAx7Ehih3gfa-6AzPbvt-a_pBtTAYhnIfi0KGMLpJl_YUUa0m-mIIvfNFZNlnNuyZ49HKhZmOtUPTaSs6c/s1600-h/target.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZLOSSm2x-qxp2v4IcjiHfNRxRGrSq3F2CK6eEl-9NzRdUVM3m86W5cEWZVAx7Ehih3gfa-6AzPbvt-a_pBtTAYhnIfi0KGMLpJl_YUUa0m-mIIvfNFZNlnNuyZ49HKhZmOtUPTaSs6c/s320/target.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287511991531147682" border="0" /></a>Even though I am NOT a fan of New Year's Resolutions, I have suddenly found myself stepping up and diving right in to some.<br /><br />I've decided 2009 is the year that I stop being scared. Period. Scared of what? Whatever. Even the slightest, smallest phobias are getting sucker punched this year.<br /><br />It started yesterday.....<br /><br />Jim and I attended a Concealed Carry Handgun class, instructed by a 27 year lieutenant with the Wichita Police Department. I caught some guff, being what he called a "member of the media" attending a Concealed Carry class, but he was a wonderful instructor, and I was grateful to have had him.<br /><br />Just sitting in the same room with guns was a HUGE step for me. Guns of any kind terrify me, especially handguns. I grew up in Western Kansas where terrible hunting accidents and guns-in-the-closet curiosities caused the messy deaths of fellow students and a few friends. I was ready to stop being "that girl" - That prissy girl that lives in a happy little bubble of peace, love and non-confrontation. I was ready to be the kind of girl that can look anyone square in the eye. The kind of girl that can stand up for herself without getting mad and crying. The kind of girl that isn't constantly scared of the unknown.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLjOP3IBriNrohGcjCJZ_7gOk8M0Tw8K4zMBBwf0N4M-JKT9y6cOSn0LyzDeGc4tkHyEiMlVnlvubaZx2BiKDRq1Xxou6DkPBWep96BosQ9O-iSsesqj_dIeKPgJs2TEvCGPlJzeRFhQ/s1600-h/model442.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLjOP3IBriNrohGcjCJZ_7gOk8M0Tw8K4zMBBwf0N4M-JKT9y6cOSn0LyzDeGc4tkHyEiMlVnlvubaZx2BiKDRq1Xxou6DkPBWep96BosQ9O-iSsesqj_dIeKPgJs2TEvCGPlJzeRFhQ/s320/model442.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287511983867669426" border="0" /></a><br />So we spent most of the day getting a cold, hard education in a classroom setting and "dry firing" at targets. Then 4:30 came, and we all drove over to a firing range, where we had to fire 5 rounds into an FBI regulation target, one handed, at a 3 foot distance, to qualify for the okay to apply for a Concealed Carry License. (this sounds easy, but my little hand barely had the strength to pull the trigger all by itself - its tougher than it sounds.) Then we had to fire 20 more rounds two handed from 5 and 7 feet. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">that's</span> my target at the top of the blog. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself! except for the 2 strays.)<br /><br />This was the very first time EVER that I had held a loaded gun, let alone fire it. I was petrified. I chose to use a revolver, as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">glocks</span> were just too hard for me to handle and get the job done.<br />The firing range was full of a few other classes, so it was loud with gunfire, even with my big red ear protection muffs on, and I was jumpy and shaking like a leaf. Shaking like a leaf is not good when you have to load a revolver in front of your instructor and then fire it one handed. (if you're conjuring images of Don Knotts, so was I at the time!)<br /><br />Long story short - by the end of the day, I had overcome my gun fear, and after the shaking stopped, I felt like a million bucks.<br />Will I apply for the license to carry a handgun? Not sure yet. If push comes to shove and I was in fear for my life, could I fire a gun at another human being? If I had one in my nightstand and someone entered my home with the intent to do me harm, you're damn right I would.<br />Will I purchase a gun and spend time at the firing range with my husband? You bet. (I wonder if I can get one in pink to match my cell phone and my digital camera.) The confidence I had in myself when we left was refreshing. And I stood a little straighter for facing one of my demons, head on.<br /><br />So whats next? Well, this morning I tackled the fear of making crock pot beans and ham - my very first pot got started and its cooking as I write this blog. I am CONFIDENT that it will be edible this evening.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-74565901757163903382009-01-01T12:28:00.006-06:002009-01-01T12:39:03.298-06:00New Year's Eve With the Girls.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuprQrpBLisLS2l4qhRT0l0aL-FKBo7pa0MeYgH1FdHgIUYA7FR5Pt_HkoWTdWGh6duS85o4BRUsuB7s5x7j5_Ix_C2zftseXsAhIQZ8MVsGfMzBEAMOzTafOqjRNW7bt-ntN2SFWkH1o/s1600-h/jimbored.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuprQrpBLisLS2l4qhRT0l0aL-FKBo7pa0MeYgH1FdHgIUYA7FR5Pt_HkoWTdWGh6duS85o4BRUsuB7s5x7j5_Ix_C2zftseXsAhIQZ8MVsGfMzBEAMOzTafOqjRNW7bt-ntN2SFWkH1o/s320/jimbored.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286395386353734434" border="0" /></a>Much to Jim's dismay....the evening of Dec. 31 was<br />GIRLS NIGHT!!<br />He was bored stiff, but took it very well.<br />Where there's chips and dip, Jim's not too far away.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7vuOiazsb8Adj-F-Obo6PW4drsZ7Xx8sQaWRg1brM8mPmSL2jrVDC-GbO3vP4FcbFqFnN4ikrMEQohnngIy_u1cio5kbewibe1aoA-9wi5o59SOV-kPsya55qHmIomhGBChN0fclgbs/s1600-h/lesvon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7vuOiazsb8Adj-F-Obo6PW4drsZ7Xx8sQaWRg1brM8mPmSL2jrVDC-GbO3vP4FcbFqFnN4ikrMEQohnngIy_u1cio5kbewibe1aoA-9wi5o59SOV-kPsya55qHmIomhGBChN0fclgbs/s320/lesvon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286394189191515090" border="0" /></a>Vonnie invited Leslie, Jim and I over to her place<br />for New Years Eve.<br /></div>I think the photos speak for themselves.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwiH0sFq6jC51FSSthSmuHEfRSHS8ewqggTlAaYN52QskGanrxNKvXEmn8ZU6dwTZueVtXZCRb2Ps_eKrdkRCqgaGSZIfgqqQF-mke10EaTckwFZRAHdBDwLnuaqq6iYgvNsRR-_sn8o/s1600-h/drinkers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjwiH0sFq6jC51FSSthSmuHEfRSHS8ewqggTlAaYN52QskGanrxNKvXEmn8ZU6dwTZueVtXZCRb2Ps_eKrdkRCqgaGSZIfgqqQF-mke10EaTckwFZRAHdBDwLnuaqq6iYgvNsRR-_sn8o/s320/drinkers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286394185738167410" border="0" /></a>Believe it or not, I was a VERY good girl, and awoke New Years Day feeling quite proud of myself, and not at all wanting to die. This is a HUGE step forward on my path to being all growed up.....knowing when to say when.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtRRZVP0lHtCMkZt_OHUsqgIkEcBRTRmix0NfcqsiwbkZVEO6Gc5dcU6y42FPcoaaGwzE463bVEEMuhSWSuLJ4WJIUATfaoEP-_-ficQOuJabgbbJnZNX7Kf-sg07dpiamJ2J_ThxJssE/s1600-h/booze.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtRRZVP0lHtCMkZt_OHUsqgIkEcBRTRmix0NfcqsiwbkZVEO6Gc5dcU6y42FPcoaaGwzE463bVEEMuhSWSuLJ4WJIUATfaoEP-_-ficQOuJabgbbJnZNX7Kf-sg07dpiamJ2J_ThxJssE/s320/booze.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286394184838237154" border="0" /></a>We did have a real good time though,<br />and it was good to cut loose and relax with my girls.<br />And Jim.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRl7xr1g0FFYCAmHgt5slNYFh7JWPiW6ZJcgMpVnlQXXNY-WNrAbpfBSHB9KDa6BpgxJUCb4bWVZ2n3VSXx7A1-G6dBm_gM9JT9n7oAlg3jkcqq46VvMhP8AG0Ag-x88LM-1-EqTengY/s1600-h/vonrobles.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRl7xr1g0FFYCAmHgt5slNYFh7JWPiW6ZJcgMpVnlQXXNY-WNrAbpfBSHB9KDa6BpgxJUCb4bWVZ2n3VSXx7A1-G6dBm_gM9JT9n7oAlg3jkcqq46VvMhP8AG0Ag-x88LM-1-EqTengY/s320/vonrobles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286394175820152466" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-24897191284676076232008-12-29T14:59:00.003-06:002008-12-29T15:17:19.695-06:00Obsessive-Compulsive Meets Patience.<div align="justify">Anyone who knows me, knows I'm a bit of a clean freak - especially at home. Chalk it up to a mother who was a complete nazi when it came to being tidy. </div><div align="justify">I am, as I sit here and type this blog, ready to freak the hell out. My home is filthy with chunks of ceiling everywhere, its noisy, and my chihuahua is a ball of nerves.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Today there are roofers on my roof. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I was not expecting roofers on my roof today. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I discovered them in the shower this morning. I could hear them up there, but they're awful fast, and as the skylight directly above me was being ripped out of the ceiling, there were at least three guys speaking spanish and laughing very loudly. Awkward, to say the least.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnMB65q5zBDPG5lJv509HaWR0t1Rh6glVY84vx5vEbEh7TEjLkoE3GYOLNt-9fCECBvIeBWhQ_xmZHf2QOVwuBrOy35OhvkToceFmOyKJjamnBi7Yl3hYQY0nSHG-AzYVtI9eU9CccRLY/s1600-h/ceilingcrap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285320933457683682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnMB65q5zBDPG5lJv509HaWR0t1Rh6glVY84vx5vEbEh7TEjLkoE3GYOLNt-9fCECBvIeBWhQ_xmZHf2QOVwuBrOy35OhvkToceFmOyKJjamnBi7Yl3hYQY0nSHG-AzYVtI9eU9CccRLY/s320/ceilingcrap.jpg" border="0" /></a> So back to the chunks of ceiling. Its everywhere, and there's not much I can do about it till they quit for the day. This is a HUGE problem for me. HUGE. It's all I can do to sit here and wait. I want to vaccuum so bad I can't stand it.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Bewteen the mess, the noise, and the dog barking so hard all four feet come off the floor......I suddenly feel entitled to a drink.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJp4jYzQg-oBF7htDz3uCwLfk2H0TvMsI1RiqpUEFmZH2eV_7RcFyl9yx1QKgHfZWMO2mDF8LQewdfAAMPmj_G6V6dFz9DRZTkn0c55e45q2ABMZGJBYZJyiO0KElT6kwUDV7RHrnYqs0/s1600-h/cakeplate.jpg"></a><div align="justify"><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-43684918101474731762008-12-27T12:52:00.005-06:002008-12-27T13:06:52.586-06:00Christmas Dinner and the Houdini Dog.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEbYzeLL1F5DWwVpWnS0jK04lJliNN3I-WIj3RvxJCEOEBrRzdPkxYh0fGCA7sBlWtDC1uAr6n146ctGJxp4kPjX0mK2g0TMDgO46USJBg7KxqXD9TTsFkOVimoTOwUQzmx2odwGSEDA/s1600-h/beckyjim.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEbYzeLL1F5DWwVpWnS0jK04lJliNN3I-WIj3RvxJCEOEBrRzdPkxYh0fGCA7sBlWtDC1uAr6n146ctGJxp4kPjX0mK2g0TMDgO46USJBg7KxqXD9TTsFkOVimoTOwUQzmx2odwGSEDA/s320/beckyjim.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284545259366122450" border="0" /></a>Riley the Super Chihuahua has a new name.<br />"Houdini Dog".....<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Let me back up a little.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The other day, Rebekah and I, at Jim's request, purchased a little hoodie for the dog. He's 6 lbs of skin and bone, and he ssshhhivvvvers like he's going to freeze to death, whether its 20 degrees or 100 outside.<br />He let us put it on him without a fight, and then sat there in disgust as we laughed at him.<br />Needless to say, he hates it, and when no one is looking, he manages to get out of it, leaving it right side out, and sometimes it even looks like he folded the damn thing for me! Talk about giving me the finger!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLO3Av8ATRPEKc9dKAEKppSmolY1fZIWhc95DyMs5ZnF_k7HtU892N3SBRarZXu_cGCdr7TemQJLbnEoemA5v9586_pussI9a8HCW_ihgoLS4CB_53M2GDeXvNSaT2nUj1gQ1HVLu6XSM/s1600-h/riley1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLO3Av8ATRPEKc9dKAEKppSmolY1fZIWhc95DyMs5ZnF_k7HtU892N3SBRarZXu_cGCdr7TemQJLbnEoemA5v9586_pussI9a8HCW_ihgoLS4CB_53M2GDeXvNSaT2nUj1gQ1HVLu6XSM/s320/riley1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284545251242353474" border="0" /></a>So on to Christmas dinner! It turned out very well, considering the outdated tiny-ness of my kitchen! it got a little crazy but in the end, it was worth the struggle!<br />I even got to use the buffet that came with our dining room table. Very exciting.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi911djJLIxPoso3qQAVxSCABn9gbiiV0a66H8JesCrqpJwy3hLxp_ophLpxcVMXH4mxoQMNMEnW1TxR4gEhPo8mXO-z-if4Q_ZMcAm7kT4Z61ErVjx2jYQUIX1RuTJhg1dNYVz4qCU6Y/s1600-h/dinner2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi911djJLIxPoso3qQAVxSCABn9gbiiV0a66H8JesCrqpJwy3hLxp_ophLpxcVMXH4mxoQMNMEnW1TxR4gEhPo8mXO-z-if4Q_ZMcAm7kT4Z61ErVjx2jYQUIX1RuTJhg1dNYVz4qCU6Y/s320/dinner2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284545246555765346" border="0" /></a>Ah, that roast was the BOMB!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XdRWDQwBAFliCsQB0vgFKkyloZcsNKUS18v4KLNKKyg8PvSM8MVzmIsrA-FGIQ4K0CptFNOotkp0kjXAF4moF-ffQio6USWqQSgk6ZfnbAsAErdP8WS3ycaUCZlNTLyBEdFFD2LXI9s/s1600-h/dinner1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XdRWDQwBAFliCsQB0vgFKkyloZcsNKUS18v4KLNKKyg8PvSM8MVzmIsrA-FGIQ4K0CptFNOotkp0kjXAF4moF-ffQio6USWqQSgk6ZfnbAsAErdP8WS3ycaUCZlNTLyBEdFFD2LXI9s/s320/dinner1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284545243511517538" border="0" /></a>Considering this is what I've got to work with in the way of kitchen appliances,<br />I think I really pulled off a feast! The only redeeming quality about this range<br />is the double oven action going on here. The rest of it? Blegch!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsznRnLKqzGfzChCm0fsAiCmpp0c_YQKxNXAIh8ToFhNtoQzgsyEw1bxS_VNZOrsxJf7SGA7gYwbuF2ZJttwTsROGChosNiu-HvZz9RWdWerGcPMA9tdd4CnASBlecPsw1f8uaSiHyjQ/s1600-h/stove1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsznRnLKqzGfzChCm0fsAiCmpp0c_YQKxNXAIh8ToFhNtoQzgsyEw1bxS_VNZOrsxJf7SGA7gYwbuF2ZJttwTsROGChosNiu-HvZz9RWdWerGcPMA9tdd4CnASBlecPsw1f8uaSiHyjQ/s320/stove1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284545241513838610" border="0" /></a>Someday, I'll have that chef's kitchen<br />I've always dreamed of.<br />Till then, well, back to the crock pot!<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-23486705683971524762008-12-26T09:54:00.004-06:002008-12-26T11:11:39.528-06:00Mama Cashes In.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw77l_yvIigjj-3EMF0xP8hRdQnuqz6zNzmHNHcIf4XyglzygZOP-IXZTzGB_0pns6VVQcuGNp5QjfON7p8lgik6hi9y4oBpqsSgfmiOro53WVeVEp6UUX7jTFPbpQdT9yncuH7nFsxY/s1600-h/diamonds.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw77l_yvIigjj-3EMF0xP8hRdQnuqz6zNzmHNHcIf4XyglzygZOP-IXZTzGB_0pns6VVQcuGNp5QjfON7p8lgik6hi9y4oBpqsSgfmiOro53WVeVEp6UUX7jTFPbpQdT9yncuH7nFsxY/s320/diamonds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284128112610082050" border="0" /></a>FIRST ORDER OF BLOGGER BUSINESS: I got my diamond earrings for Christmas!! Right On!!<br />I'm kind of a "kept woman" these days.<br /><br />My sweet baby girl got me a wicked awesome pair of Snoopy VS The Red Baron pajama bottoms and some fuzzy blue slippers to match - ADORABLE.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUUwTJPxL7qZBnWdizVCKBj7cfeZYfuwInkJbzV0xC1ye8NkZFlVEbqQNeaZUqqfCLNbflLDRGBbHso1Z9bAKTitXx52oYh6gFrAEud3vBBK6jFlHCxqUMxHz5RExSGnCdWBfxDOsBE8k/s1600-h/snoopy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUUwTJPxL7qZBnWdizVCKBj7cfeZYfuwInkJbzV0xC1ye8NkZFlVEbqQNeaZUqqfCLNbflLDRGBbHso1Z9bAKTitXx52oYh6gFrAEud3vBBK6jFlHCxqUMxHz5RExSGnCdWBfxDOsBE8k/s320/snoopy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284128105820882754" border="0" /></a>She and Jimbo decided to get me a super shnazzy french beret - they were in agreement that the one I've been wearing makes me look "like a little old lady"......whatever. This new one IS pretty cool, though. I'm looking forward to wearing in public for the sole purpose of embarrassing them to no end. I look pretty bad ass in it.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDunKnkb1fzoANILPeqmMKA8VylkZKuKnY-C8u_ENAEmgGL4x2907lPLriHxBe3BG5Y_FvajERvDT21QRqGs9XZlDsJciQ1soW5TrR3RmaibvhFoCw5mM8Ro7dXmDjqfwhvl6Mgo3RnMw/s1600-h/frenchberet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDunKnkb1fzoANILPeqmMKA8VylkZKuKnY-C8u_ENAEmgGL4x2907lPLriHxBe3BG5Y_FvajERvDT21QRqGs9XZlDsJciQ1soW5TrR3RmaibvhFoCw5mM8Ro7dXmDjqfwhvl6Mgo3RnMw/s320/frenchberet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284128101947785138" border="0" /></a>Documentation of dinner to come! It turned out pretty darn good, if I may say so myself. I shall be called, from this day forward, "The Pot Roast Queen."<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-37687015741712887212008-12-24T16:03:00.003-06:002008-12-24T16:09:55.563-06:00A True Christmas Miracle.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_wdMQL4BDIQoSOXqz2t-WDvqgpEm14VDeENfEGT3IvNVBNUEQFIaEg3W8WUYVsidAWEGyZsWydFT1nOnSBp0pAsaEmJl4vyuLuzuE_saf1GBvpE-Bevt4aZuKR7P8pDuRFhMpl1wvG4s/s1600-h/onion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_wdMQL4BDIQoSOXqz2t-WDvqgpEm14VDeENfEGT3IvNVBNUEQFIaEg3W8WUYVsidAWEGyZsWydFT1nOnSBp0pAsaEmJl4vyuLuzuE_saf1GBvpE-Bevt4aZuKR7P8pDuRFhMpl1wvG4s/s320/onion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283480792457517714" border="0" /></a>Somebody alert the media. Yours truly will be attempting to make the family Christmas Feast this year.<br /><br />Starting at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, I'm doing the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cookin</span>' for the Garrison clan.<br /><br />This may not seem like a big deal, but with the dilapidated, run down, ratty-ass 60's kitchen I've got, it should prove to be a real interesting day.<br /><br />Thank Heaven for crock pots, because it'll be roast all the way, kids.<br /><br />And trust me - there will be pictures taken to document this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">unprecedented</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">occasion</span>! And of course, a blog posting!!!<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-91003176784525212772008-12-21T12:27:00.006-06:002008-12-21T12:41:00.940-06:00Jim's Company Christmas Party.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7LM6x4_2OBwtc_I-SUGw8yNyQmGzFQ2cwLZDjycoSZZ-YJC64ZUs3nBy1z-Wc8clZe2USokge4pg8wHQMhoD7L5oMmmq3jAKSsh-L96gzd-RQDqgOhbzB3jbI-zDNJmDRYp9y3DYFk4/s1600-h/usthree.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7LM6x4_2OBwtc_I-SUGw8yNyQmGzFQ2cwLZDjycoSZZ-YJC64ZUs3nBy1z-Wc8clZe2USokge4pg8wHQMhoD7L5oMmmq3jAKSsh-L96gzd-RQDqgOhbzB3jbI-zDNJmDRYp9y3DYFk4/s320/usthree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282311955480804690" border="0" /></a>Somehow, I managed to upload pictured of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jimbo's</span> company Christmas party, without pictures of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jimbo</span>! I don't know what the heck happened to them.<br /><br />But here are a few highlights....<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I officially <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">LOOOVE</span> his co-worker, Bryan. He's a scream. Very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">flamboyant</span>, cheerleader & cheerleading coach, loves getting pedicures. He's just adorable and I think he's my new <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">BFF</span>.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I caught him eating cake here.<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCEGTNb9Wc1p_yCeleiTRJCJFAwe0fGT0i_KspUf8NKL_rD6z8zXe362PlgSEfCzQBzjkdc2mjrLgWaWxEWNijG03kpcZjOpyYpZ1ArKuNDStHii5ToKcWIYQzTJD0t3wWy5siqoFFE4w/s1600-h/bryan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCEGTNb9Wc1p_yCeleiTRJCJFAwe0fGT0i_KspUf8NKL_rD6z8zXe362PlgSEfCzQBzjkdc2mjrLgWaWxEWNijG03kpcZjOpyYpZ1ArKuNDStHii5ToKcWIYQzTJD0t3wWy5siqoFFE4w/s320/bryan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282311957103889362" border="0" /></a>Now, lets talk about Jim's boss, Tate. Oh, my. Very handsome. I'm pretty sure after a few drinks I was following him around like a puppy. He's a western Kansas boy (mmmm...hmmmhmmm) and one tall, cool drink of water. And a drummer......need I say more?<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiGEhxj_vqh7JcAgjPiRLt_QvrpelkRnOYit-L4M6Qf5buyCZLK0UwAdmd4l5wiB-Z8qb9kOABg7S4Ba8WYi0AzRCa88axiCu-q-XDsd2SxAyAjA5uOEkogVAqjEM3KQOWOMI4H5z0Kg/s1600-h/hotboss.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiGEhxj_vqh7JcAgjPiRLt_QvrpelkRnOYit-L4M6Qf5buyCZLK0UwAdmd4l5wiB-Z8qb9kOABg7S4Ba8WYi0AzRCa88axiCu-q-XDsd2SxAyAjA5uOEkogVAqjEM3KQOWOMI4H5z0Kg/s320/hotboss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282311949367056818" border="0" /></a>And his wife, Jackie is just the biggest sweetheart! I was hoping before I met her that she'd be a real horse's ass, but NO! I love her! Dang. That makes it so much harder to oggle over the boss.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryP-xaUEwAuoSLQboXsTiIQhyphenhyphen0G8iddNrnxxrlh9Bjn_HbmigqZGHnqzxkj_vcmzPmS-9bZcM-5g13ebDAiWOUWxh_KTigAxiLtfF4t0XNKfAHX-DsRDNgFJGy8_EydXKg1fryerMbA4/s1600-h/jackietate.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryP-xaUEwAuoSLQboXsTiIQhyphenhyphen0G8iddNrnxxrlh9Bjn_HbmigqZGHnqzxkj_vcmzPmS-9bZcM-5g13ebDAiWOUWxh_KTigAxiLtfF4t0XNKfAHX-DsRDNgFJGy8_EydXKg1fryerMbA4/s320/jackietate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282311950060083810" border="0" /></a>Virginia played it low key this time. She stayed off the hooch and I think she probably found it much easier to get up the next day.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLV7_V_yTG_dcsyd7SbOBNhVSBDZrCc5bkkUoymuqDjA9VPoFFTEDcpCMBDbz8ECORuMcrjPqHqAAcH13aBAl6GkyEPcZmMFMXohZeD-7RKS8-YayD8ts8XJK6zBQCapayhWtWUJfBAp8/s1600-h/virginia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLV7_V_yTG_dcsyd7SbOBNhVSBDZrCc5bkkUoymuqDjA9VPoFFTEDcpCMBDbz8ECORuMcrjPqHqAAcH13aBAl6GkyEPcZmMFMXohZeD-7RKS8-YayD8ts8XJK6zBQCapayhWtWUJfBAp8/s320/virginia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282311946876302354" border="0" /></a>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-14458654236595137572008-12-14T11:58:00.014-06:002008-12-14T15:43:45.630-06:00Transpooper Pee.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJa9JUkQwNQzT0ewFL_xoxoJJkX2iHWgrTEXWsSy8GA7OTnJvakYQjlzTd_WKyTLkkvI2zkB2YJHw4daVz-8Rd2o4qwyleZYnhL9YiceDI3O1b0M_h-g4qMtu1_NEN6FN9qoNJW2U-7tw/s1600-h/transporter3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJa9JUkQwNQzT0ewFL_xoxoJJkX2iHWgrTEXWsSy8GA7OTnJvakYQjlzTd_WKyTLkkvI2zkB2YJHw4daVz-8Rd2o4qwyleZYnhL9YiceDI3O1b0M_h-g4qMtu1_NEN6FN9qoNJW2U-7tw/s320/transporter3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279706703486394738" border="0" /></a>Oh, no, no, no. I meant <span style="font-style: italic;">"Transporter 3"</span>.....<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sucked so bad I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">surprised</span> there was any air left in the theater when it was over. A crapfest of EPIC proportions. I am not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">exaggerating</span>.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I really took one for the team going to see this gigantic turd last night. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm okay with action movies - I sat through the last 2 <span style="font-style: italic;">Transporter</span> flicks with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jimbo</span></span> - the first one on DVD, and the second in theaters, (and then repeatedly on cable because Jim had the clicker - it was out of my control.) and I liked them just fine. Jason <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Statham</span></span> is some SERIOUS eye candy. So I brought this all on myself when I said, "Sure babe. Whatever you want to see is fine with me."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I think they went too far making this third <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">installment</span>.<br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The only redeeming factor is that Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Statham</span></span> was shirtless many times.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_M68G9ixdzeJbjghzfI0tKGM7uj61yaXqkHadZQtUjA_SJFUtVqjczhtrjOZEBRHJ8bC-8XyvEXR2uN9EsA8p-56w_Pj0QJbqu31IeEtW7J7m8RH_g_xSPk4OaiZIrYeNJ4vaeWNBmo/s1600-h/164i.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_M68G9ixdzeJbjghzfI0tKGM7uj61yaXqkHadZQtUjA_SJFUtVqjczhtrjOZEBRHJ8bC-8XyvEXR2uN9EsA8p-56w_Pj0QJbqu31IeEtW7J7m8RH_g_xSPk4OaiZIrYeNJ4vaeWNBmo/s320/164i.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279706705403617762" border="0" /></a>Allow me to break down the numbers for you:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Number of times "Frank Martin" had to fight multiple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hench</span> men all by himself:<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 3</span><br /><br />Number of times his shirt was either ripped off or taken off voluntarily: <span style="font-weight: bold;">4</span> (oh, mommy likey - might have been 5.....things get fuzzy for me when it comes off.)<br /><br />Number of times his Audi took an impossible flying leap that should have killed him or at least rendered the car <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">undriveable</span></span>: <span style="font-weight: bold;">COUNTLESS.</span><br /><br />Number of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">cheesy</span> "Holy CRAP that was stupid, who writes this stuff" lines the bad guy had: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Like, 12</span><br /><br />Number of times I looked at my husband and said "Really! Really??! Is this what we're <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">doin</span></span>g?!": <span style="font-weight: bold;">probably 10</span><br /><br />Hours of my life I will never get back: <span style="font-weight: bold;">almost 2 </span><br /><br />It was very, very, very bad, and I wanted to kick my own ass for agreeing to see it. Jim is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">SOOO</span> sitting through a chick flick this week.<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-47425010977713038002008-12-10T14:14:00.004-06:002008-12-10T17:36:11.068-06:00Idiot of the Day Award.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2R5OMCVMxN41qXkMJu1jWIN3jqcp-5BiKp3VyqnIxCLBZkyjfN3kzSKOhKXxRe5r-6Jjkh9j98F6JZx5VWsEg6JRAmf5TjZNnssNe1CKAg9lZgQjUvpK2LpK00RY8JO9-5I3BL8jBdNI/s1600-h/ball.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2R5OMCVMxN41qXkMJu1jWIN3jqcp-5BiKp3VyqnIxCLBZkyjfN3kzSKOhKXxRe5r-6Jjkh9j98F6JZx5VWsEg6JRAmf5TjZNnssNe1CKAg9lZgQjUvpK2LpK00RY8JO9-5I3BL8jBdNI/s320/ball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278257487044884786" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>Goes to this kid right here.<br /><br />Today at work, I was standing in the middle of a room full of advertising sales reps, awaiting some instructions.<br /><br />While I waited, I noticed some Christmas decor attached to some garland, and decided to touch THEM, with the palm of my hand. Cupping them ever so gently, palm up, I suddenly realized they were the ONLY CHRISTMAS BALLS STRUNG ANYWHERE on that garland.....and then it occurred to me that these TWO SHINY BLUE BALLS were hung there as a dirty little inside joke by someone, and I HAD BEEN STANDING THERE, FONDLING THEM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM. !!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, and immediately felt very dirty and stupid.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Naive</span> much? Yes. Yes I am.<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-38577052639108179452008-12-09T19:16:00.005-06:002008-12-10T02:47:57.374-06:00I Hate the Kansas Cold & The Snow.<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgmFKn-dw-jxy4WhNpt9zpJh883ctT0cMBA7dFGVOsX8_JWHh7cKlTn4vW1CFJgRR2YTBMPgTXcNufRrUBolPCCqID23jYJ47p2W0G4wIZXgEiW2y6N34zsjX9ERxvzhFty_33Q25j84/s1600-h/riley22.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277966193543393794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgmFKn-dw-jxy4WhNpt9zpJh883ctT0cMBA7dFGVOsX8_JWHh7cKlTn4vW1CFJgRR2YTBMPgTXcNufRrUBolPCCqID23jYJ47p2W0G4wIZXgEiW2y6N34zsjX9ERxvzhFty_33Q25j84/s320/riley22.jpg" border="0" /></a> Chihuahuas don't dig it, either. This one, otherwise known as "Riley The Super Chihuahua," spent most of the day under a blanket, with his nose out just far enough to keep himself in the know. Getting him to go outside and take care of business in this kind of Kansas weather takes an act of Congress.<br /></div><div align="justify">I don't so much mind the cold, but the wicked wind and the snow and ice I can do without.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">That poor Mexican river rat with his butt parked on my couch agrees.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotmXSewpL9JSFe6WBulCrK0CTRVNAp24aiOIi3t4QX8sJgyItGXWcn-o2T9qMagSDiwu-p9oqdiHdVRgz43Tqxd9zIkOFmAzXm9rTWpzNSjnr4AwG_KL8jW7IlwNMlizMp7CvUfsNzNE/s1600-h/riley22.jpg"></a>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-57479260236759752282008-12-07T12:06:00.007-06:002008-12-07T12:16:05.154-06:00I Found This and Had to Share!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeRYLZ_7F3-5dzEZVRLryW3GC3A46FXUxY8b7jbfCsck97lH5ICO-1rbVnsvHSUXoUeFiVgX2GYRACaEhio-baPlBGbqRiRjH439ZAxYBT7AY7VSCI0J-GIT-hdv2QQ1horJyjZx1dxc/s1600-h/monkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeRYLZ_7F3-5dzEZVRLryW3GC3A46FXUxY8b7jbfCsck97lH5ICO-1rbVnsvHSUXoUeFiVgX2GYRACaEhio-baPlBGbqRiRjH439ZAxYBT7AY7VSCI0J-GIT-hdv2QQ1horJyjZx1dxc/s320/monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277112809050162162" border="0" /></a><a href="http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/2008/12/this-just-in-fr.html">Freshly-borned Capuchin is a <i>skosh</i> grumpy</a> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="flickr-yourcomment"> One-day-old baby Capuchin monkey:<br /><br />"It is ENTIRELY too bright out here! Turn out the lights! Get me a sleep mask, SOMETHING! OMG PEOPLE!"</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><h3 style="text-align: justify;" class="entry-header"><br /></h3><h3 style="text-align: justify;" class="entry-header"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I found this and the quote at Cute Overload, while parooooozing some random blogs. I thought it was funny as hell.</span><br /></h3>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-13308620983963415302008-12-06T13:36:00.011-06:002008-12-06T16:00:15.922-06:00Three Blogs in One.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIT39CGc1zH0QyPPqMl4aNKXeP9geQTXvna2mJTWHtR95vfuaXztYLMC89dw2cC4pRkzp66BIgwXenJK8XI4z1VBQXEYCK3lCCtwffI7Z6WlkhFmfLVFvHzts43JMEhmm5AydYo8yRSM/s1600-h/tree2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIT39CGc1zH0QyPPqMl4aNKXeP9geQTXvna2mJTWHtR95vfuaXztYLMC89dw2cC4pRkzp66BIgwXenJK8XI4z1VBQXEYCK3lCCtwffI7Z6WlkhFmfLVFvHzts43JMEhmm5AydYo8yRSM/s320/tree2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276763714911588466" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">First order of business,</span> the oddly tall, skinny, borderline "Charlie Brown" Garrison Family Christmas tree. Its a thing of beauty.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyr7L3wehvWVhnThw91OXWffdAlBCvfV3UeEEpYyrzchAEZJOpKPF9UrYxpuc6vhtNrGsRaVZl9wiA-1s89n-EJDtb5AbeOO80KCOj3y3npgrcaZ3t1QpU0c8td189JwLhh74lwm-nsI/s1600-h/tree1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyr7L3wehvWVhnThw91OXWffdAlBCvfV3UeEEpYyrzchAEZJOpKPF9UrYxpuc6vhtNrGsRaVZl9wiA-1s89n-EJDtb5AbeOO80KCOj3y3npgrcaZ3t1QpU0c8td189JwLhh74lwm-nsI/s320/tree1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276763582017639666" border="0" /></a>I wanted one of those sad, knotty pine type trees.....this is as close as we got. It's 7 feet of a whole <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lotta</span> weirdness. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pre</span>-lit, too.<br />So I added some ribbon and some fake berry stuff and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">BAM</span>. We've got a true Holiday Oddity.<br />I love it. Its as unusual as I am, so it fits in nicely at our house. I just hope my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Jimbo</span> knows how much better it would look with diamond earrings under it. <span style="font-style: italic;">Am I right, ladies?!?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Second bit of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blogginess</span>....</span><br /><br />I came to the startling realization the other day that I am as old as Disney World. Okay, well, I think its got a year on me. It Opened October 1, 1971, I was born August 10, 1972. That's close enough to make me feel REAL old.<br />I have also discovered that my bathroom cabinets and cosmetic bags are full of "Age Defying" products. When the hell did THAT happen?!????<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Third bit of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bloggy</span> goodness....<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br />Back on my Christmas music rant - After careful consideration, I have decided the only acceptable Christmas song is <span style="font-style: italic;">"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"</span> sung ONLY by Vince Gill. That dude has the voice of an angel.<br />I have to come clean, though.....I have taken a liking to the old Dolly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Parton</span> tune, <span style="font-style: italic;">"Hard Candy Christmas."</span><br /><br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-74598989020272984862008-11-30T20:20:00.004-06:002008-11-30T20:42:36.831-06:00Suggested Yumminess and A Little Overshare.<div align="center"><strong>I have found the big 'O" of corporate coffee treats.</strong></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn6S_0iC_Pfh0_0GZjtf82T01MtPoOvARylb9abxIdJuysY86L2j00wHCIDFdU4jq99G0z5p-nomGOknQvCtPX-CT3SAwiSuTKN6lFeD0EQP8FxWKsuWWZc_hzdmVHGy3rxBNNuvzW_s/s1600-h/blissbar.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274641537719950226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn6S_0iC_Pfh0_0GZjtf82T01MtPoOvARylb9abxIdJuysY86L2j00wHCIDFdU4jq99G0z5p-nomGOknQvCtPX-CT3SAwiSuTKN6lFeD0EQP8FxWKsuWWZc_hzdmVHGy3rxBNNuvzW_s/s320/blissbar.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong> The Starbucks Cranberry Bliss Bar.</strong> Oh, my, goodness. This baby, I'm sure, is not good for you, but its so tasty, it's worth every thigh plumping calorie!!<br /><br />You must RUN....don't walk to your nearest Starbucks and get one. Right Now. I think it might even cure depression.<br /><br /><div align="justify">While we're on the subject of Starbucks and all the wonders it holds, I would strongly suggest avoiding the temptation to try the Espresso Truffle drink. Although it tastes exactly as the name implies, and I must confess, will make you feel like a super-hero for a while, the colon blow that will ensue is not a fun time. Yummy? Yes. Intestine friendly? No.</div></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-21592425502269385822008-11-29T14:43:00.004-06:002008-11-29T15:32:22.380-06:00Don't Hate.....<div style="text-align: justify;">But I have been listening to the radio for several days while at the Obituary Desk, and I'm angry.<br /><br />I am a big believer in NOT playing Christmas music till at LEAST December 1st, and I've been hearing it three times an hour for the last 3 days, and there are a few stations that play NOTHING BUT AND THEY HAVE BEEN FOR NEARLY A MONTH!!<br /><br />But thats not my main gripe, really.<br /><br />It's one song in particular. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Christmas Shoes"</span><br /><br />I really hope "Mamma meets Jesus" very, very soon, because I can't take ANY version of that song much longer.<br /><br />Seriously.<br /><br />Oh, and one other - it's a country song - <span style="font-style: italic;">"Christmas Carol"</span> about a little homeless girl or some shit. NO MORE, DAMN IT!!!! NO MORE!!!!!<br /></div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-69871021928155187282008-11-27T21:19:00.005-06:002008-11-28T09:31:12.295-06:00A Spoonful of Greased Lightening and a 42 foot Smurf.<div align="justify">Ah, Thanksgiving. Not my favorite holiday these last few years.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I worked today at Ye' Old Death Dealer's post. It was a quiet day, and I didn't mind that at all. It was quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">peaceful</span>. My sweet 16 year old daughter stopped by the office to see me for a minute, and that was pretty awesome. It made my day.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Prior to going to work, though, I got my fill of exactly what I needed to make it feel like Thanksgiving: super cheesy musical numbers straight off of Broadway (during the Macy's Parade in New York) in the form of Mary Poppins and Grease. At the risk of being a traitor to my bad girl rocker persona, I dig that crap. Big time. Especially in my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">jammies</span> with a big mug o' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">joe</span>.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">This year they had a 42 foot tall Smurf balloon, celebrating 50 years or something like that?! Really?! Smurfs been around that long? Who knew.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Speaking of being around that long, can anyone tell me what the HELL happened to Stephen Adler of Guns N Roses??? I've been watching him on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew, and I must have missed a few episodes, because I can't figure out what his deal is, other than the obvious.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">**UPDATE**</span><br />After visiting Wikipedia, I have discovered that Mr. Adler suffered a stroke a while back after doing a "particularly potent speedball." God bless the internet. You learn all kinds of stuff.<br /></div><div align="justify"> </div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2025807048457041778.post-91219386290514597082008-11-26T17:38:00.007-06:002008-11-26T19:25:18.417-06:00The Douchebag that Ruined Dinner.<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Okay, so back to the story about the idiot at dinner the other night. Now, don't get me wrong here, we weren't exactly dining at a 5-star jacket and tie establishment - it was Carlos <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">O'Kellys</span>, but damn. We had a couple of young whipper-snappers that obviously thought the world owed them something, and, in their haste to make everyone around them aware of their presence, forgot the number one rule of dining out: <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">never f*** with the dude that handles your food.</span><br /><br />I am positive this very early twenty-something goober thought he and his girlfriend were the reincarnations of Sid and Nancy, with the noticeable difference being that she looked like a girl who's mother would be MORTIFIED if she knew her daughter was out with this dude. They both were sitting on the same side of their booth, facing me. He was loud and full of self loathing, she seemed perfectly fine with the fact that her boyfriend was an ass.<br /><br />His chips and salsa weren't fresh enough. His soda was flat. Blah, blah, blah. In between bitching, though, he managed to find time to make out with and put his hands all over his girlfriend, talk to the waiter like he was stupid, and demand that he get a bag of chips and a container of salsa to go with his leftovers he was taking with him, considering how "nasty the first round was."<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jimbo</span> and I waited till Captain Ass-Clown and his gal pal got their coats and headed for the door, then we called their poor waiter over. (who, by the way, was very professional throughout the whole ordeal.)<br /><br />I gave him a ten dollar bill and told him anyone who had to serve that tool with such grace deserved it. Besides - Mr. Awesome didn't tip him after all that passive-aggressive verbal abuse.<br /><br />I'm astounded on a daily basis at how badly people will treat other people just because they can.</div>Rockyn Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11733226203405022133noreply@blogger.com3