I hate liars and would much rather deal with the truth. If I don’t know what is really going on, then I can’t help or I can’t take the proper steps to deal with it. But the thing that pisses me off the most about liars is not the lie itself. It is that the liar thinks so little of me that they would rather deceive me than keep the relationship real and treat with me enough respect to tell the truth. That is what pisses me off and is the hardest to forgive.

Anyway, They had the season premiere a couple of weeks ago and I watched it. It was OK but frankly a little too gory for my taste. I don’t see why they have to show all the gory details. Why not leave some of this to your imagination?

So the next week the show was gory again. The brutality is extreme and meant to shock the viewer. I get that. But again, I don’t really like it. I know they have great special effects now, but there is such as thing as gratuitous violence, and I really don’t think all the gore is needed.

So the next episode is even worse and they kill off one of the characters. They show him getting beat to death in prison with a metal pipe by three big black guys. And the weird thing is that this is just a county jail and nothing is done about the death, they just ship the body home with a toe tag.

Maybe this is pretty commonplace in L. A. or Oakland, but around here any death while in jail or prison is a big deal. They get investigated and its all over the news. But, I guess that Hollywood can do whatever they want on a show.

This time it lasted 2 months. I think once you are around someone 24 hours a day is when you get a good idea of what they are really like. All the best behavior they use on dates and trying to get you into bed with them disappears once they get comfortable in your house. That’s when the bad habits start to show up. The first month you are too infatuated to notice a lot of it. But the second month seems to tell the tale.

The second month is when the toilet seat starts getting left up. The dirty dishes don’t seem to make it to the dishwasher any more. And the snoring at night is no longer cute. But worst of all is the attitude of entitlement. I can’t stand that. I expect good manners and please and thank you in my home. Good manners are not just for dates. It’s a lifestyle.

This girl wants some romance. You had better fucking make some effort to flirt and make me feel special, you know? If you need classes, that’s fine – I like a guy who is trainable anyway. But if you think I’m going to come running to bed and entertain you because it is some kind of duty or obligation, I say, fuck that!

So I get to drive through lane and there is a ton of cars in front of me. Looks like I wasn’t the only one wanting fried chicken last night. When I got up to the ordering board, I was shocked to see how much they are charging for a fucking bucket of chicken now. They want $30 for the big bucket of mixed chicken with two sides and biscuits. Damn!

Anyway, I get to the ordering board and see that there is a sign over the loudspeaker that somebody taped up there and wrote with a Sharpie “Speaker broken.” So I’m thinking, OK – why don’t they have someone from the kitchen crew outside here taking orders from people on a clipboard or some kind of paper? But it looked like they wanted people to just drive up to the window and tell the guy in person what you wanted to order. And then they would go get the food, but that seemed to take a lot longer this way because the line of cars was barely moving. I sat in that fucking line of cars for over 40 minutes and still hadn’t got to the window to order my fucking chicken.

Then, all of a sudden the cars in front of me were moving up to the window and after just a short wait they were pulling out and driving away. So, that was a good sing because I was getting hungry and pissed off at the long wait. So I get up to the window so I can order my bucket of chicken and the guy says, “Sorry – we have to close – we’ve run out of chicken.”

So, no chicken for me!!! Fuck the fried chicken!

But I have to say, the weather has been too fucking hot for the beach. It’s one thing to lay out and have a little breeze and not get all burnt the first 30 minutes you are there. But this summer is like every day between 90 degrees and 100 plus degrees and no breeze. I can’t stand to be all sweaty and don’t really want to swim in the Lake. I just want a damn tan.

He used to call me Skinny and tell all kinds of skinny jokes. Like, you’re so skinny you have to run circles in the shower just to get wet.

When we ere kids, we didn’t use anywhere near as many cuss words as the kids today seem to be using. I guess it is partly because they hear all the adults say shit and mother fucker and stuff like that all the time. They say it in the WalMart when standing in line with families and no one seems to give a fuck.

Love this cat! I wish I had my cat back. My ex boyfriend took him when I kicked the BF to the curb. I miss the cat. If I had a cat i would have someone glad to see me every night when I got home. I would have fun playing with him dangling a feather from a fishing pole. Would not even mind feeding him and changing out his litterbox. That’s all part of the responsibility of having a pet.

The movie I want to see most is the new men in Black and I want to see it in 3D. The new Spiderman doesn’t look like much to me, but if I had little kids I know they would be excited about seeing that one.

Another new one coming out is called Magic Mike with Channing Tatum. It’s about a make stripper who takes a newbie under his wing. That will be easy on the eyes and if there are a bunch of half naked hunks dancing around on the screen, who needs a story line?

So one day a couple years ago, I stopped in a coffee shop and they had a row of big glass jars on the top of the counter and inside each jar was a different flavor of biscotti biscuits. The flavor names all sounded pleasant and even intriguing, so I decided to try one.

Here’s a tip – if you want a stale cookie that costs about a buck to dunk in your hot tea of coffee, try a biscotti. That’s all they are – hard ass cookies with a couple drops of artificial flavoring added to the dough. A couple of them have a few crumbs of some kind of nuts, but mostly they are just stale cookie. I have no idea what fucking genius invented a way to get rid of his stale cookies by giving them a fancy ass French sounding name, but it was sheer genius.