Oops! Burrito is done mowing and all sweaty. I better go observe him cooling down under the water hose.
Later, kids!

Today I:

Slept in.

Had “relations” with Krissa’s husband.

Got rid of him and then promptly hired a full time maid.

Had an internet connection installed directly beside the bathtub.

Hired hot pool boy.

Spied on neighbors barbequing next door.

They thought I was Krissa for some reason and I just played along to get good grub. What do I care? Morons.

I placed the cats out the window of the second story and timed their decent and entrance through the doggy door. (The younger one is faster than the old biddy.)

Shopped for jewelry and purchased said jewelry.

Burned Krissa’s credit card receipts in fireplace. (And I bet she won’t even thank me…)

Tomorrow I plan on:

Attempting a “home cooked meal”. I mean what the hell is the big deal? If that idiot can do it, I sure as hell can. John, (the husband flavor of the month), will never even know it’s my first try at cooking and all that happy crap.

Find out if the new maid, Conchita, can score me some pot. (You know… she be Messican and all…)

Call some hardbody construction guys and see about getting a pool put in to have a good reason to have a hot pool boy. (I’m not stupid…. I cover my bases.)

Until I feel like getting back with you, (in my own time frame and entirely at my convenience),

Cy

You know they won’t let her use computers in there.

Well, not after the scandal.

But more about that later. I need to get you all caught up about me. My name is Kosis, some people call me Cy. I realize Krissa never mentioned me to you before, but she and I are inseparable and have only recently been separated.

Yes, that’s the way it happens.

Unfortunately, she can’t run as fast as I can and didn’t make it out. She’s not much of a fence climber, either. I intend to visit her on alternate Sundays.

Incognito, of course, as they are surely still looking for me there. (I am quite popular among the staff and inmates clientele, both. Shhhhhh.)

Krissa never talked about me to anyone. I was the brilliant one working behind the scenes to make her the person she was. It was terribly hard to do much of anything with her. Ya’ know… that sucking void of a black hole she had for an imagination was not easy to get around.

Well, finally one of the psych doctors friendly strangers wearing white all the damn time, got her to discuss me and the role I had been playing in her life. The nut actually assured her that she didn’t need me and renamed me “Alter”. I knew it was time to get the hell out of there and made good my escape. She can’t keep up? Too bad. So sad.

I admit, I am kind of lost without her, though. She is such a great patsy. I can usually get her to go where ever I lead her.

If only she could run faster…

Well, while she is in there, I will be assuming her identity role here at home and I am going to get this dump into some sort of order. And by that I mean this place could be a lot more fun.

The dogs need to have more treats. There needs to be more ice cream in the freezer. Ding Dongs in the pantry. Booze in the liquor cabinet.

Oh, and I get to sleep with her husband, too.

I think I can get used to this.

AND I will tell you what is REALLY going on around here. Krissa was always trying to make it sound as if it was all boring domestic bliss. HA! I will make sure you get the real lowdown.

And I’m not making any promises, I am one very busy little bitch, but I will attempt to do it on a regular basis.

Toodles for now,

Kosis

So it’s Saturday morning and Kes comes in and drags me out of bed to go do a little shopping with her.

“OK”, I says, “Let’s go.”

So I hop up and while she gets dressed I am in a little quandary since I can’t find anything to wear that fits. You see, I’ve lost weight. A good deal of it, as a matter of fact. So have Kessa and Keelan. We’ve all been on the diet train.

I put on a sleeveless white blouse and walked into the living room and stepped into the stairwell.

“Kessa!”

“What?”

“Come look at this and tell me what you think.”

“In a minute! I’m getting dressed.”

So Keelan has wandered in and looks at me and says, “Why? What’s the matter with it?”

I extended my arms and asked if the hanging armholes looked ridiculous.She shrugs halfheartedly as her sister enters the room and Keelan says,  “What are you going to be doing that would require you to put your arms out like that?”

I immediately reply that there may or may not be an occasion during our shopping trip where the need to do The Funky Chicken occurs.

Kes’s head snapped around like a homing device and her eyes zeroed in on me.

“Mom, let me make this perfectly clear… We will NOT be doing The Funky Chicken at ANY TIME TODAY.”

At some point in the day, on the way to the car, I had a pair of reading glasses perched on top of my head, (I mean how else am I going to read price tags?), and I was taking a pair of sunglasses out of my purse to apply to my eyeballs, having completely forgotten the reading glasses up there.

Kessa pipes up, “Mom, you’ve got too many pairs of glasses on at one time… one’s the limit.

I told her that I always wear two pairs when I’m going to do The Funky Chicken and she came to a complete stop in the parking lot.

“Mom! There WILL BE NO FUNKY CHICKEN, TODAY!”

I think this leaves the chance open for another day and if I keep my mouth shut and don’t remind her that it’s even a possibility… Well, I could very well be seen doing The Funky Chicken in the parking lot of Target near you. Or maybe even far away. The priceless thing won’t be me doing it, but the look on the young lady’s face with me.

Probably go grocery shopping.

Run errands.

Complain about the girls while knowing we would be lonely without them.

Play with the dogs.

Watch a movie.

Water the lawn.

And in the end, we will communicate a lot somewhere in there.

And we will GET each other.

This? Is why I look forward to my days spent with him.

So I guess that’s better than being un-creatively frustrated?

It is so hot outside I am wilting inside. Not to mention dragging out the water hose and sprinkler every evening and soaking down the yard, which was about to be completely dead before I caved and started watering it.

You know what’s wonderful when it’s this hot?

No, not running naked through the snow. See? I know how your mind works.

Watermelon Peach Mango iced tea.

I wish so much I could show you a picture of how it tastes. It is SO refreshing and light and cool and exactly what you imagine angel farts to be.

How ’bouts you just come on down to my house and I’ll make a pitcher of it.

OH! I could even fill up my favorite Tervis Tumbler, the fabulous new one out! The 2011 NBA World Champion Dallas Mavericks!

Packed with ice and Watermelon Peach Mango iced tea!

I am telling you, it doesn’t get any better than that down here!

Except maybe with a splash of Watermelon Vodka.

How good would THAT be?!

Excuse me. It’s been fun chatting on with you and all, but I gotta run make something to drink.

Oh, that invitation stands!

Remember this?

Yeah. That was October 11.

2008.

The stupid door finally got repainted.

Took about 10 minutes and one sample sized paint can that cost $5.00.

No. I don’t know why it took me so long to do it, except to say I just couldn’t decide on a color. I love red, but the neighbors across the street have a red door and I didn’t want to be a copy cat.

Yet, I really do love mine, now.

Behold!

I have to give Mither a lot of the credit. She pushed me into going ahead and doing it. OK, she stood over me until it was done. OKAY! She helped me!

Er, maybe I helped her, whatev.

I really like it.

Do you think it’s turquoise because we’re Messicans?

John says I’m “Mexican by injection”.

For your own sanity, don’t let your husband read this. At no point did I use a level, volt meter, or stud finder. Even though nothing went amiss and the levelicity of the end result is perfect, we all know how this knowledge will effect men.

I also have used some fairly loose terminology. i.e. do-dads, thingy, hicky-do, etc.

You do what you want… I just don’t want any hysterical emails saying your husband blew a gasket because I “eyeballed” something.

Be safe!

Screw it! I’m just going to post this thing on a Sunday, even though I know hardly anyone reads their… reader on Sunday. And since I have been incarcerated on hiatus for so long it’s down to you and that other person at this point anyway.

However, I am too happy with myself to let this opportunity slip by. I must toot my horn and all that happy crap.

There has been a TOILET PAPER SITUATION here for some time now. By this I mean that john is super cheap and only buys the sandpaper kind we haven’t had an actual toilet paper rack in our bathroom in… a long, long time. This was due to several factors but mostly, the old one was shitty, (HAH! SHITTY- toilet paper! Did you see what I did there?) and I was tired of fighting with it and while it looks as though I yanked it out of the wall before the paint job, I actually took it off very calmly.

So there are these huge gaping holes in the wall and wouldn’t you know, all toilet paper holders are about the same size and the holes for all of the damn things are in about the same place. Where the giant holes in my wall are.

I am guessing this could be because all toilet paper is the same size?

Let’s not over think this.

So, after visiting The Goodwill Store and scoring a brand new, in the package, Delta toilet paper holder for THREE DOLLARS, ($3.00!), I devised a plot to thwart the efforts of toilet paper dispenser manufacturers and, ultimately, I believe, rise above the evil t.p. manufacturers as well.

I took my happy ass to a local craft store and purchased a wooden plaque. But not before I traced a template of the t.p. holder so I would know how big a plaque I needed. (It must be said here that the holder came with a template in the packaging, but… something happened to it, so I made my own.)

I then painted said plaque and did TWO COATS. Cause that? is just how much attention I pay to details, people.

I proceeded to screw in the little, stupid toilet paper holder…. holders.

And then drill holes in the middle of the hicky-dos so that the freakin’ molly bolt’s I got that are HUGE and capable of holding firm in, like, a sponge, or something equally squishy, can go through the middle of the t.p. thingy and THEN I screw the little folding do-dads on the ends of the screw thingys and plunge them into my Swiss Cheese wall.

Oh, wait a minute. Even though there are thousands of holes in my wall, none of them appear to be in exactly the right spot. Well I can just drill new ones and the plaque will cover up the old ones.

I do.

Then I stick the folding do-dads through the holes and start screwing in the bolts while applying pressure against the do-dads so that the screws tighten the whole mess up.

After that it’s just getting the rack ends on the hangy things via the tightening of the teeny-tiny hex screw that they have strategically placed where no one can reach it on the bottom of the deals. Right against the wall.

You know why they are called “hex screws” don’t you? It’s not because they are shaped like hexagons. It’s because you realize someone has put a hex on you and you are screwed the moment you attempt to use the teeny-tiny little allen wrench. The plaque, actually, does make this easier than usual because it gets the hex screw further from the wall and makes more room to work.

Now. All done.

Shit.

We’re out of toilet paper.

It was BLACK METALLIC WITH DARK PURPLE… SWISHES. Some sort of horrible impressionistic thing gone terribly, terribly wrong.

It sucked every ounce of light out of those two tiny little rooms. I think we expanded the space by several thousand square feet. (My rough estimate.)

Here we are looking into the part where the tub is. That’s Henry on the wall. Why did they name the lizard a boy’s name for a girls bathroom?

I suppose the better question would be why is there a lizard in their bathroom?

What can I say? I felt a connection.

Henry’s closeup. I don’t want to freak you out by getting too close… he’s sticking his tongue out. He has a bit of the sass.

And, of course we have to have a shot of the pot. Note the Pretty Potty Picture!

This is a shelf adjacent to the wall Henry is on. The clock is an old one I hauled out of the closet and replaced a truly horrid large blue fish with a clock in it’s belly. Yes, just as tacky and juvenile as it sounds.

Here’s their new curtain for the shower. Actually it’s two curtain panels instead of a shower curtain. The old plastic liner is behind them and still hanging by the fish shower curtain rings… need to replace those.

That is as far away as I could get to take the picture. We either need larger bathrooms or I need a better camera.

Well, there you go! You have been witness to another HalfAsstic makeover.

Next? I paint the utility room.

How many? Oh.

Uuuuh, lets say 30. Yeah, that sounds good.

Are you having a hard time swallowing this?

What I need here is a touch of evidence. Here are some bathroom pics!

Behold, BEFORE! Go ahead, click on it and make it BIG!

Master bathroom 80's wallpaper BEFORE the paint job. NOW you see why The Peace Corps was needed.

Now stop that! I know you can control your gag reflex better than that! You’re being a sissy! Only a few of those Peace Corps folks tossed their cookies. And there were 45 of them staying here, remember!

Allrightythen, moving right along. I’m guessing you are  now wanting some eye relief. Let’s try showing some improvement, but not quite done.

This is the loverly Kessa. She was a tad upset with me cause she didn't have any make up on. I know... I can be decked out to the nines and sporting a tiara and not come close to looking like that.

SEE! Isn’t it a beautiful shade of blue/teal or whatever it is? Talk about “lighten and brighten”! That’s what we did!

Here's the mess aaaaall over the counter. There is so much mess you probably can't even see the Peace Corps workers in there doing their thing.

Here's Mither bent over painting the wall behind the counter. I realize you can't see that much of her, (go with me, here), but she's peeking out between that bucket of joint compound and blue plastic cup of paint.

Here's a close up of my new shower curtain. I got it for six bucks at a garage sale and so the bathroom color was picked around it. SCORE!

This is a really great shot except that the paint is so totally NOT that color. I really did have a hard time getting pics that represent the shade of blue/aqua/turquoise/greenishblue...

See what I mean? The paint in the potty room is the exact same as the paint in the rest of the bathroom. However, I can point out here that the far wall in the potty room does look more like the actual color. I don't know why it makes it such a baby blue in the foreground.