Once again I am dogsitting at the mansion in the wine country of Temecula, replete with pool and jacuzzi and a shitload of vino. I left the house in Bakers-friggin-field at sunrise..six fucking am to be precise. The drive was uneventful save the asshole in the Toyota that wanted to play fuck-around a bit on the Grapevine. The Grapevine for those unfamiliar with it is the 4k foot mountain range that lies between the San Joaquin valley(me) and Hell-A (LA). I usually do around 85-90 mph there..I know it like the back of my liver-spotted hand and at that hour,the traffic is light save a few truckers. Any who, this jackass wanted to strut his stuff and evidently thought running me off the road was a grand game. I, driving a shitbox 6-cylinder 98 Taurus thought..ok pal, bring it. He did and I responded in kind. I am not the person you want to entice into a game of Chicken.I will never give in first..evah my dear reader. Since he didn't seem to grasp the seriousness of the issue, I finally took my foot off the gas pedal and wished him a fond farewell...or so I thought.He started to block me in...never allowing me to pass him, and if I slowed down..so did he, always just a car bumper in front of me. This got old very fast as my patience scale is quite low...non-existent in fact. When we reached a downward pitching spot I jerked out into the next lane and gunned it. He of course did too, which might of been what the asshole wanted all along...a little freeway racing. When we hit 100, I sad fuck it...afterall, my threshold is 90..no ifs ands or butts.
Suddenly a black and white blur whooshed by me on the outside lane. Lo and behold, Johnny Law was hot on the ass of the...well, ass. I watched with glee as the jackass was pulled over, I honked and waved as I drove by him and the officer:) The song on the MP3 player was Little Feat's Dixie Chicken I believe.
So, I have arrived at the homestead unscathed. I unpack, set up ye old laptop and begin to hit the blogs...eager to check on my newfound friends Randal Graves, Tengrain, Politits, Cunning Runt FranIam Phydeaux and the uniquely talented Utah Savage. I have seen them in the circle I have been inhabitating lately and it was fun to leave a comment and see if they responded and recognized the moniker I am sure they had also noticed around the blogosphere lately.
They all did, and I was embarrassed actually because I am a little timid at first when I meet people, and then when I feel comfortable I let the fur fly so to speak..cussing like a sailor, making snarky and sometimes inappropriate comments, railing like a mental patient off her meds...the usual hellfire Dusty bullshit.
Politits came by and left me a beautiful comment on her blog that made me feel right at home and welcome as part of the Blogger family. Tengrain did as well, a fellow Cali resident, I was quite thrilled when he stopped by here as many of the bloggers named above. But the one that slapped me upside the head was the inimitable Utah Savage. Ms. Savage, I heart you, you are a woman after my own heart. You smoke (both things) cuss occasionally, straight talk it and most importantly of all your an old broad like me that has been married numerous times and not embarrassed to mention it and you live life to the fullest as physically possible at the moment.
Ms. Savage is a literary person too. She writes short stories, poetry and novels. She has wonderful command of the english language while still remaining close to the ground. I think I love her, no...I know I do. Her posts are long and full of imagery...both of the mind and a few graphics tossed in. I write all those things too....but no one has ever read them...I have them password protected on my laptop...I am weird like that. But I digress..
And she loves Keith Olbermann. This of course bonds us immediately, that and we both as old broads, smoke pot. So, we had a little give and take in her comments section. She then put up a post with MY name in the title...I felt like I had arrived now with the clique...sort of anyway.It remains to be seen whether these new folks will stop by regularly. But it really doesn't matter because I have you, my six regular readers, which includes the lovely and talented DCap in NYC...so I can live with a small but wonderful audience like you folks.. as long as I have a bottle of chardonnay and a bowl of pot nearby.
But to end the Olbermann talk..he IS mine Utah, make no mistake about that chica... I will
make him my 5th...or is it 6th husband...hell...don't matter..the man knows talent when he sees it..and he told me I rock and gazed lovingly into my eyes...I swear he did. ;)
