I proudly present a lifelike portrait of me as drawn by the artist formally know as Nixie.

This one's on me hun .....

.... love ya. * hugs *

Really no other poetic title I could have given for what I have just spent the last hour or so doing.

My sweet kitten, Smudge, who is getting less and less sweet by the day, has crapped and puked all over the fucking place.

Ok, so I may be a leeeetle to blame.

I really didn't want to open my eyes too much before leaving the house this morning. That does, afterall, ruin a good drive to work if you are fully alert.

Opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, poured Smudge a little bowlful and off I went in my still hazy daze.

Apparently cats intestinal malarky stuff does not care for sour milk.

Fussy fucker!!!

However when you spot clean the carpet you really see how the whole fucking carpet needs to be cleaned. I thought my carpet was white but apparently it wasn't anymore. So I now have a polka dotted fucking carpet.

So the tally for the week is:

Smudge - 2 (don't forget the potted tree incident)
Carpet - 0

* flicks a paperclip at Kay *

Well, the time has come to share the story behind my name.

Rodeo is over. Winnings are collected. Horses are in stables. The boys are all at the bar. Damn roughstock riders always get to the bar first.

It's a small town in Texas where choices for entertainment run from bar to bar to bar to watching a bug zapper. It seems some of these bars allow women to take off their clothes. * gasp *

After what seems like only a few drinks ( although thecredit card statement tells a much different story ) it seems like a good idea to visit one of the aforementioned establishments. Afterall, we are modern women and are certainly not prudish.

I am sitting rather close to the stage and for some reason I have a fist full of dollar bills. * cough *

Then suddenly I have a fantastic idea !!!! Why not let the girl who is doing rather acrobatic things take a little break and I will fill in for her.

Oh yes. Tom Petty's "Last Dance with Mary Jane" will always hold the memory of my breasts against that cold pole. ( To those I told I kept my clothes on ...erm ...sorry ).

Now ... you would think the story ends there right. Still not sure how I got the name Abilene? Yes, it is a town in Texas and yes that's where the bar of ill repute was. So it seems logical huh?

I didn't actually get the name attached to me until the next night in a town very, very, very, far away.

El Paso, Texas.

I am on my horse, he's warmed up and raring to enter the arena. I am on deck ( next rider up ) and I hear my name called.

"Next up we have all the way from South Carolina a little girl who just happens to be the best pole dancer in Abilene"

The fucking rodeo announcer for the circuit had been in that bar last night !!!!!!!! I was laughing so hard that I placed 7th and my bra got hooked on the saddle horn !!

For the rest of that season I was 'Abilene' and it stuck I guess.

The new high tech redneck advent calender.

You are choosing to read this blog, I am not forcing you

With that said let me tell you about Bluey.

My last week that I was in the States my mom was there with me. You know, being all motherly and comforting me in the fact that I was leaving my whole life.

I had shipped practically everything I owned here via liner.

All I needed to worry about was basically a couple of suitcases and my carry-on luggage.

Night before the flight we are staying in a hotel and I am repacking my cases for the zillionth time when it suddenly dawns on me that my mom will be in the line with me when my bags go through the xray thingymabob. Now you have to understand that my mom is more of a prude than the late Momma Theresa.

Fuck. What am I gonna do about my toys? I ain't talking tonka trucks here if ya know what I mean!

So, I do what any rational thinking person would do. I stuck my toys in the cistern on the back of the toilet!

The point to telling you all of that is to be able to tell you why I just did a jig all the way up the stairs.

Sitting on my doorstep when I got home just now was the most beautiful brown, discreet box you have ever seen.

My new vibrator is blue. Not just an ordinary, run of the mill ho hum vibrator either. Custom made and I have been eagerly awiting it's arrival for nearly 7 weeks now. Welcome to the family Bluey.

Sooooooo ......... anyone else gonna admit they have toys? Do you have names for 'em?

I also have this really fucking awesome electrode box. I shall save telling you about that for another day.