Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

January 25, 2008

So, thanks to you all for my 15 minutes of fame.  It’s been heady stuff.  Now I’ll be all into the news looking for some more famous mysteries to solve.  I’ll have to get a Sherlock Holmes hat (I look really good in a hat), one of those ever so cool curvy pipes, and start talking all intelligent and stuff.  It’ll be great.

Then we’ll all sit around here talking about what’s not right with the latest case in the news.  We’ll sip brandy or sherry or port or whatever it is that mystery solvers sip while mystery solving.  We’ll smoke our pipes……….or we’ll light them and then let them go out and light them again which is what it seems to me that pipe smokers do.  Do we need smoking jackets?  Do they even make those anymore?  Yall rich folks can let me know this one.  What are smoking jackets for, anyway?  I never really understood the purpose of that particular garment.

I don’t have any wing-back chairs anymore.  I used to have one but it got burned up in the fire.  It would have been uncomfortable for more that a few of us to try to use it at one time anyway.  It was a fairly small wing back chair and a second hand one at that.  But it wasa wing-back so that counts. 

Maybe someone can invent a blowup wing-back for us.  Then it will be BYOWbC.  I think the blowup part would be implied.  We’ll solve the Black Dahlia case.  That should get us started out good.  Then we’ll be able to pick and choose our cases from there. 

I was listening to Starr Jones on truTV today, formerly known as Court TV, talking about a case in which two attorneys had a client whom they knew to be guilty of a murder.  Another man had been tried and convicted of that crime and was in prison for years on that conviction.  Due to the laws governing attorney/client confidentiality, they were not at liberty to say that this man was in fact NOT guilty of the crime he was in prison for.  The best they were allowed to do was secure from their guilty client a waiver saying that, in the event of his death, they had his permission to divulge his guilt of the murder and secure the release of the innocent man!  Their client eventually did die and they were allowed to release the information.  The innocent man is in the process of getting out of prison now. 

If the two attorneys had said anything at all about the innocent man being innocent before their client had died, they would have been disbarred and probably faced charges for it.  Isn’t that sad?  That doing the right thing to keep an innocent man out of jail would cost people their jobs and possibly send them to jail in the process?   Seems to me like they could have at least been released to say to the investigators or a judge or someone that the man being tried was not the man who committed the crime and that they needed to investigate further. 

However, I can see how that would be like telling on him.  It’s a catch 22 isn’t it?  I wouldn’t have wanted to be in the position of the two attorneys. 

Intyways, as The Buddha says, I just wanted to say thanks for the participation! 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch………

Rocky and I picked the heathens up from the bus stop the other day and took them with us to go shopping.  As we were riding back home we passed the house of one of Bella’s friends.  She calls out, “Hiiiiii Madison!!!!”   Rocky asks, “Does she live in the place with the lighthouse out front?”  Bella has her MP3 player in her ears and probably jacked up to the max, so she only hears part of what Rocky said.  Bella asks, “The lighthouse?” To which I answer, “Yes, the lighthouse out in the yard.”  Bella replies, “Um, NO, Gramma Toe, she doesn’t live in that little lighthouse, she lives in the great big house behind it!”  Then she proceeds to roll her eyes like Rocky has lost her ever lovin mind. 

Now, Rocky and I have possibly the lowest humor threshold on record.  We can be found laughing at almost anything.  The idea that Bella thought that WE thought that her friend was small enough to live in a decorative, four foot high light house that sits on the lawn just had us tickled to no end.  We giggled and snickered and laughed.  We couldn’t even look at each other for hours because every time we did we would collapse in giggles and we couldn’t function. 

And it didn’t help that earlier, after Bella had gotten off her bus but while we were waiting for The Buddha’s bus to get home, she had caught us with another unexpected visual. 

We have a little saying around here when someone passes gas:  Oops!  I stepped on a frog!  Over time we have expanded on this theme with: Oops!  I swallowed a frog!  for when someone burps. 

Well, the kids love this!  And of course being MY grand-kids, they just ain’t right to begin with, so they’ve thought about this a lot.  And Bella is a very visual child.  She comes by this honestly. 

So, we’re waiting for The Buddha’s bus to come rolling down the road and someone who shall remain nameless, but who isn’t me and isn’t Bella, burped.  Bella pipes up with, “Dang Gramma Toe!  That frog crawled right up your butt and out your mouth!”

Rocky couldn’t even catch her breath enough to laugh.  She just kept squeaking.  The impact kept hitting her in waves.  I was half falling out of the truck laughing my ever loving ass right the hell off.  Because all I could see was these two little frog legs just a wiggling, trying to get up in there so they could make that long journey in order to get out Rocky’s mouth.  I haven’t been brave enough to ask Rocky yet just what visual it brought to mind for her, but judging from those squeaks she was making, I can only guess.  I’m going to rest up real good before I ask her.  Maybe take some vitamins.  Because I’m going to get one hell of a workout laughing when she finally tells me.


Maria Lauterbach, Cesar Laurean, Christina Laurean

January 20, 2008

Living in North Carolina gives me a front row seat to the circus on this one.  Amid the incessant round of repeat information today I suddenly had a thought.  I think Christina Laurean is lying about when Cesar Laurean told her about what happened to Maria Lauterbach in their house. 

She claims that it was during a drive to see lawyers about the rape.  I don’t think that’s true at all.  I think he told Christina the story about Maria cutting her own throat with a knife on the same day he beat her to death in his home.  I believe that Christina came home from where ever she had been and walked into a slaughter house.  The explanation that Maria cut her own throat with a knife was the only thing he could think of at the time that would explain the blood all over the ceiling and walls of the house without implicating himself in her death. 

It makes no sense that he could beat Maria Lauterbach to death, wash down the scene, grab a friend, go to Lowe’s, buy a bunch of stuff, then paint the walls and ceilings of several rooms in his house, all while his wife is at a party. 

And that is IF he told her that story at all.  You have to keep in mind that Maria Lauterbach had accused Christina’s husband and the father of her 17 month old child of rape.  There is some question as to whether or not the child Maria was carrying was Cesar’s.  It’s entirely possible that Christina didn’t need an explanation about what happened.  She might have been there when it happened.  That might be why she took an entire 24 hours to go to authorities with her information after Cesar left town. 

Maria Lauterbach’s rape accusation had put Christina’s life and the life of her child in jeopardy.  It’s possible that Christina went to her husband’s Christmas party without him in order to make his excuses and give him time to do what he had to do with Maria’s body and the house.  She could have been covering for him.  She had no reason to like Maria Lauterbach.  In her mind, Maria could very well have been the enemy.  If that was the case, she could very well have aided her husband knowingly in every part of what he did.  He obviously had help from at least one person if not several people along the way. 

He wasn’t alone in Lowe’s, he wasn’t alone at the ATM machine.  He probably wasn’t alone at the Microtel near the airport.  Who is the person he was with at Lowe’s?  Who was he with at the ATM?  Why haven’t we heard anything about these people or what they have to say?

Another thought that gives me a hinky feeling about this whole thing is this:  In the note he wrote to his wife, Cesar Laurean puts himself at the train station with Maria Lauterbach when she bought her ticket to El Paso, TX.  As far as I know, HE is the ONLY source of this particular bit of information.  The question is WHY did he put himself there with her?  Did he see someone he knew there?  Did he think he was seen BY someone who knew him?  Did he think there were cameras there?  Did he take Maria Lauterbach FROM the train station? 

He put himself AT the train station with Maria for some reason.  So far I’ve heard no explanation for why he did it, but he had to have had a very good reason for putting himself WITH her at the last place she was KNOWN to be alive on the day she disappeared.  I’m still waiting to hear about this one too.  Could it be that he kidnapped her from the train station?  Could he have taken her to the train station and somehow forced her to buy the ticket to El Paso? 

And for that matter, no one actually SAW her leave her residence.  All they have is a note supposedly from her.  He could have kidnapped her from her home.  He could have forced her to write the note she left.  He could have taken her to the train station and had her buy the ticket then taken her to his home.  It’s not as far fetched as it sounds.  You have to remember this is the man who beat her to death in his house then took her out in his back yard, burned her body up and then buried her there.  Then calmly proceeded to paint over the blood stains in the house his child would soon be walking around in.

I think when this one’s finally over it’s going to be a stomach turner.  What do you think?


Thoughts For The Day – Jan. 15, 2008

January 15, 2008

Does it seem odd to you that the CBS morning news should be reporting on Britney Spears court nonappearance in her child custody case?  Are there not a couple of areas in the world in which we are in military combat that might require more immediate attention?  Is there not a murderer on the run somewhere in the world who murdered an eight month pregnant woman, whom he allegedly raped, then burned and buried right in his own back yard in North Carolina?  Are there not weather systems going haywire?  Isn’t there a dog stuck in a well pipe on 7th street in some backwoods town in East Bumphuc Egypt?

And while I’m on the subject, does it constitute a low speed chase if only the psycho paparazzi are involved?  Isn’t it a prerequisite that the legal authorities be involved for it to be classified as a “chase” of any kind and to be shown on the national news, for God’s sake?

And, again, while I’m on the subject, does anyone really have an objection to Britney not being there to fight for custody of her children at the moment?  Before you all get up on your high horses and start to judge her as a horrible example of a mother for not being in there fighting for her kids with all her might, let me set you straight.  Britney did the most motherly thing I’ve seen her do in a long time this morning.  She let her kids go to the best place they can be right now.  Does anyone really think they need to be in Brit’s custody right now? 

Permanent Custody is a relative term in the court system.  Until a child is eighteen years old, or until a parent’s parental rights are terminated, nothing and I mean NOTHING is written in stone.  We’ve seen this over and over in this case already.  This could very well be Britney’s first step towards healing in a very long time.  Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

If I were her and I pulled up in front of that courthouse, with no chance of success inside and that gauntlet of press to run outside, I would probably have done the same thing.  Please note the “If I were her” at the beginning of the sentence.  Because every expression on my face on the way out the door would have been worth thousands to some undeserving asshole whose only ticket in is a camera in his hand and the dexterity to plunge the freakin button on it.  Which means a blind monkey in the right position could make that money shot over and over again.  So much for the “talent” portion of our event.

And that’s all for my Britney rant today.

Next……

The four hundred eighty five things you DID do today don’t count.  It’s the ONE thing you didn’t do that matters.  Don’t forget that.

Crackers trump the electric bill every time. 

You can spend all of your time working on a problem and someone who has never been involved will STILL think they can see it better than you. 

Criticism comes easy from the least expected people. 

Support comes from the most UNexpected people.

People who were deliberately absent when all the work was being done will make sure to point out all of the shortcomings of any project.  The harder the project, the more vocal the pointer will be.

Sometimes I’m a bitch.


On Why I Couldn’t Be Emo

January 15, 2008

My kids tell me all kinds of stuff that’s new to me.  Take for instance “Emo” kids.  Emo?  WTF is that?  Someone who is always sad is the short explanation.  Hmmm.  I’d probably suck at that.

It would be just my luck that I would decide that it was my desire to make my mark in life by being an Emo girl.  Then the very next day I would wake up all happy and shit!  DAMMIT!  Then I would have to shoot my dog just to get into the right mood for the day!  Crap!  How much work would that be?  The PETA people would be all over me in no time!

Ok, how about going Goth?  I could do that, right?  I’ll go buy all black clothes, and white and black make up.  I’ll never have any more wrinkles because I never have to have any more facial expressions.  Of course, I’d screw up on laundry day trying to get a stain out and bleach my black goth clothes into some kind of wicked tie dyed horror, which would make me laugh so hard I cried and mess up my white caked on make up and run my black eyeliner.  So, no goth for me either.  *sigh*

Well, there’s always the Plastics.  They’re the Uber Preps.  They rule the school.  They’re better than everyone.  Everything they have, say, wear, eat, and do is better just because they have, say, wear, eat and do it.  But dear GOD that is SO much work and I am ever so lazy at heart.  Besides, my “Some call it stalking……I call it Love” Tee and blue jeans are my uniform.  I will jump over 20 stylish outfits for 1 comfortable one every time.  So, no Plastics for me either.

I just thank all the powers that be that I don’t have to make all those decisions anymore!  I did my time baby! I paid my dues to that heartless crowd!  I grew UP!   I graduated high school!  I’m outtie! 

And I’m damn glad of it too, cuz to be completely honest, those guys scare me!


I Miss The Old Days

January 12, 2008

I miss the old days.  I mean back before everyone became numb-skulls. 

Back when you dealt with bullies by having someone bigger and/or meaner than them just beat their asses for them.  A nice big dose of whoop ass is a really good cure for the vast majority of that kind of crap.  The certain knowledge that what goes around comes around has stopped a good many mean ass kids in their tracks.

*SIGH*  Unfortunately, time marches on and those days are gone.  Now we have to be ever so careful how we handle these things.  We have to treat torturer and victim alike with kid gloves.  It’s my own personal opinion that that is a crock of shit.  I back this up with the recent rash of school shootings. 

I believe that if the victims of school yard bullies had just been able to beat the holy living shit out of the people who were victimizing them, the shootings would never have happened.  There are several reasons for this:  There is no shame is having your ass whipped in a fair fight, there is a definite release of pent up aggression when you’re allowed to fight, and you aren’t continually feeling victimized by both the person who is victimizing you as well as everyone who watches what he/she is doing and does nothing to stop it. 

As things go now, if you try to deal with a bully in that time honored fashion, you will be arrested, taken to jail, be booked, go to trial, and have a record.  This is all because someone else took it upon themselves to mentally, emotionally, and probably physically abuse you!  Something is drastically wrong with this picture.  This kind of abuse is an assault.  Just because it isn’t necessarily a physical assault makes no difference.  Physical wounds heal far faster than mental or emotional ones.

I think we should go back to the old days and old ways.  As a friend of mine used to say at the bar when people started scrapping:  If you don’t start no shit, there won’t be no shit.


Playing Taps For Jackal

January 10, 2008

I’ve been trying not to write this post since 3:oo pm this past Saturday.  That’s when the unthinkable happened. 

It had been an incredibly successful day up until then.  Rocky, The Buddha, Princess Bella and I had finally gone to find a house for Rocky to put on our land.  It was the first time we went to look for one in person.  We had previously looked on Craig’s list, on the internet, ect.  However, Christmas is over, everything has settled down and it was finally time.  We left with only about an hour to spend in the actual process of looking once we got to our destination.  This was to be a half assed attempt at best.

We got to the lot, saw a gorgeous place, went inside, Rocky fell in love, the rest of us fell in love, the kids picked out their sleeping quarters for when they spend the night, and it was on.  Rocky asked the price.  The guy left to find out and we slumped.  We knew it was going to be WAY out of her price range.  We steeled ourselves for the letdown. 

He came back with a lot of explanations about how it had just come onto the lot, they didn’t have it on the website yet, once people found out about it it would go fast, you know, salesman talk.  Rocky and I looked at each other thinking that the price was going to draw blood when he finally spit it out.  Then he asked his final question: are you planning to finance it or will this be cash?

Rocky says cash.  I swear I think the man had an organism right there on the spot.  Then he told us the price.  I think WE had organisms right there on the spot.  He recited exactly the price Rocky was wanting to pay for a place.  My game face went out the window on the spot.  Rocky lit up like a Christmas tree.  Rocky put down a deposit to hold it until we could get it checked out by My Dearest Husband who is versed in all things mechanical.  We left singing and doing the car seat dance all the way home.

And that’s when things got ugly.

As we pulled into the lane, all of the hill dogs came running to escort us up the driveway.  One of them was Jackal.  Jackal loved to ride in the truck.  He would jump in to go with you every time you got in the truck.  It broke his little heart if you left home without him. 

The dogs run circles around you when you’re driving up the driveway.  I was going about negative five miles an hour up the drive when I feel the right front wheel rise and fall.  At that point all hell broke loose.  Jackal started to scream.  All the other dogs broke and ran.  The kids started screaming from the backseat, “You ran over Jack!  You ran over Jack!”

I lost it.  I put the truck in park and jumped out.  I ran over to Jack, who is half sitting/half laying on the ground, squealing.  I started to check him out when I notice that one of his testicles is hanging out.  Nothing is broken, he can walk, all that seems to have happened to him is that his scrotum has split open and his testicle has squeezed out.  I’ll wait for a second while all the guys catch their breath.

I’m crying, I’m apologizing to him over and over for running over him, I’m afraid I’ve killed him, I drive a Suburban for God’s sake!  Jack is screaming, the hill dogs want to smell him and every time I push one away three more take it’s place.  MDH is sleeping, the door is locked, Rocky is trying to keep the dogs away, the kids are hysterical.  It was a mess.

Finally, The Buddha gets the keys out of the truck and goes to get MDH out of bed.  We bundle Jack up to the house in a towel, I give him Benedryl, (yes you can, by weight just like a kid) and aspirin for the pain, (again yes you can, it only kills cats) and start the vigil.  I don’t have the cash for an emergency visit to the vet.  Call me callous if you want I have a house payment and kids to feed, I’m not going into debt for an animal.

Jack spent the weekend watching all the pretty colors that the Benedryl showed him, sleeping when the aspirin kicked in, and crying.  It was horrible.  I spent the weekend laying on the floor of the laundry room with Jack petting him and giving him subliminal suggestions not to die while he was sleeping.  When he wasn’t sleeping, crying, or tripping he was running around outside like nothing ever happened.  I, on the other hand, spent the entire weekend crying. 

On Monday morning first thing Jack went to visit the vet.  The vet tells me, surprise surprise, that his testicle has squished out.  Um, DUH!  He said that he could take them both out if I wanted him to.  Now, I worked at a vet.  I was a surgical assistant for six months.  This ain’t my first rodeo.  But I’m flummoxed.  So, against my better judgement I feel compelled to ask.  “What other possibility is there?”  He informed me that he could remove just the one.  Or…….get this……we could just leave it like it is and he’ll eventually just chew it off.   That’s right!  Another moment for yall to catch your breath.

You okay now?  Alright, so I tell the vet that I would prefer that he simply remove both testicles please.  Cripes almighty!  Like we weren’t all traumatized enough already.  Now I’ll forever have that image floating around in my head! 

Now Jackal, during the weekend, had to go outside to do his business at one point.  His stupendously large cojone was hanging out, but the Benedryl is doing it’s work and he’s moving around at a pretty good clip.  Our other dog, Sugar Plum is in heat.  Thaaat’s right.  Jack discovered his “special purpose in life” just as SugarPlum comes wandering by and, nut hanging, starts trying to hump her!!!!!!!

Jack is a MAN!  The boy had nuts the size of…..of….let’s just say they are HOOOGE!  Or at least they were.  And I didn’t get to bring them home in a jar.  I wish I could of because I’m pretty proud of him.  He hasn’t realized yet that he’s got no bullets in his gun.  He’s still trying to hump SugarPlum.  But we’re not playing Taps for Jackal. 

I sure was afraid we would be.  I keep having these horrible images of that huge suburban running over one foot tall Jack.  It makes me shudder.  I also keep having terrible images of Jack chewing off his nut.  Holy Crap I’m glad I’m not a dog! 


Random Questions of a Musical Nature

January 9, 2008

If I shot the sheriff, why wouldn’t I shoot the deputy?  Was the deputy even shot?  If I didn’t shoot the deputy, who did?  And why not shoot the deputy if I already shot the sheriff and I’m willing to admit it? 

What on earth was Phil Collins talking about on “In The Air Tonight”?  I mean, that song is so full of ……insinuation, you know?  There are just all kinds of evil things running through my mind every time I get into an elevator now.  It’s just creepy.  Come on, Phil!  Spill it.  It’s time to finally give up the answer to the riddle.  I mean, “I was there and I saw what you did, I saw it with my own two eyes”?  Sheesh!  What did you see?  Who did you see do it?  And why are you so pissed off about it?  I need the dirt, man!  Give!

What the hell was Bob Dylan talking about on (insert any Bob Dylan album/song/ditty/poem here)?  Especially Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.  Now don’t get me wrong, I was all about the Bob when I was younger.  He was Myth personified.  If you don’t count the Rolling Thunder Review, anyway.  I’m not really sure what the hell that was.  He was all so angst ridden and shit, you know?  And mysterious.  And Joan Baez was running after him like a starving dog after a meat wagon.  But what did it all mean???

Steve Miller…….the WHAT of love?  pompetous?  prophetess?  wtf?  I’ll have what ever he was smoking when he was recording that one! 

Did Clay Aiken sing the stalker’s anthem, or what?  “If I was invisible    Then I could just watch you in your room.”  How the fuck creepy is THAT??????   That boy always made the hair on the back of my neck stand up anyway, but this goes too far!

Michael Jackson, did you really think that we would believe Billie Jean if she told us she was your lover???  No freakin way, dude!  And the child is only yours if you were a sperm donor.  We don’t believe for one single second that you are having sex with women. 

And speaking of MJ:  Lisa Marie, Honey, just between you and me, what were you thinking?  I mean seriously, what was that all about?  Or Nicholas Cage for that matter? 

Last but certainly, certainly, certainly not least, who in the name of GOD said that it was alright for David Hasselhoff to get up in front of people and sing?  That person should be imprisoned for the remainder of their natural life, frozen and stored until a future date when we can reverse the effects of aging, brought back to life and imprisoned for the rest of their natural life AGAIN for letting that miscarriage of justice happen!  I get embarrassed for him every time I see him do it.  No wonder the man drinks!  I would too.  Why didn’t Kit tell him to stop?  If I was his car and I could talk I would have told him!  Hell if I was his dog, I would have bit him!  And I know he’s a big hit in Germany.  However, being of German descent, I can tell you that we Germans are naturally so mean that if we can’t be mean to some one else, we will be mean to ourselves and listening to David Hasselhoff is how we are accomplishing that feat.  Hell I’m so mean that when I shave my legs I have to hold a gun on myself to keep me from cutting my own throat.  I know what I’m talking about.

I’ve said this before but it still holds true:  Nice girls don’t blog after their meds kick in.  I’m leaving now. 


%d bloggers like this: