I'm so mad right now that I'm hyperventilating. I've been following the news from last night and today about the *incident* in the Kamloops jail.
It's been reported that 4 RCMP officers, 2 civilian guards, and 1 watch clerk, all male, watched 2 female inmates on the CCTV engage in sex. It's also been reported (as if this wasn't bad enough) that the woman who initiated the sex had intimated to the guard that she was HIV positive.
It's also been reported that the two women were in the tank for being inebriated, thus throwing a further immoral cast on the whole incident. They were drunk; ergo the 2nd woman wasn't in the right frame of mind to *consent.*
I feel sick, the woman in my estimation was raped. She was unable to consent, which I'm sure she wouldn't have had she been sober and aware of the medical factors, and she was doubly violated by the very people who are supposed to keep her safe.
Let's talk to the 7 men, let's have a list of what ifs.
What if it was your wife?
What if it was a girl with down syndrome?
What if it was a nun?
What if it was your Grandma?
What if it was a child?
What if it was your daughter?
What if it was a guy in a hood holding down a cheerleader?
Would you have intervened?
You bet your sorry ass you would have.
You sicken me, this all for a giddy little thrill, hope you sleep well tonight knowing that you were all part and parcel to a rape and quite possibly an attempted murder.
It doesn't have to be a male against a female to be a rape, you 7 get paid to take care of the vulnerable people you've arrested.
Just because they've been arrested doesn't give anyone a license to mistreat them, especially you.
I think you should all be fired and have to take some courses and counseling.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Pure Nirvana
There's a certain time on a summer evening that I find to be pure Nirvana.
The actual time changes as well as the day of the week. It takes a certain temperature, in the air and in the pool.
Take tonight as a prime example. I headed out to the pool after a very hot day. (hottest temps in B.C.) This followed our record breaker the day before and a so-so week. The pool registered 32 degrees Celsius and the air temp a chilly 33c.
I needed to get the timing right, I find it's good to go when the sun has just started to lower, and the moon is visible. Keeping in mind you need to beat the slugs. The back lawn is fraught with peril in your bare feet with poor visibility. ugh
Aaaahhh, it was great. The sun was an orange ball over my right shoulder, the half moon visible straight ahead. Two cats to keep me company, one on the bench and *The Dullard* stalking me across the open lawn. You remember *The Dullard* she's the one who thinks the radio is a heater and if she hides her head we can't see her.
I floated on my back with a feeling of contentment, I could hear the new flag flapping in the breeze, the big sprinkler on the front yard and very little else. I could smell the slight tang of the pigs next door, but the honey suckle gave it a nice sweet undertone and it wasn't so bad.
I floated in the knowledge that I wasn't tired from cooking because I made supper this morning to beat the heat. I floated in the knowledge that my critters were fed and the watering was done.
I floated in the knowledge that my DSH (domesticated short hair) was doing the dishes.
All in all a perfect pool evening. Life is good.
The actual time changes as well as the day of the week. It takes a certain temperature, in the air and in the pool.
Take tonight as a prime example. I headed out to the pool after a very hot day. (hottest temps in B.C.) This followed our record breaker the day before and a so-so week. The pool registered 32 degrees Celsius and the air temp a chilly 33c.
I needed to get the timing right, I find it's good to go when the sun has just started to lower, and the moon is visible. Keeping in mind you need to beat the slugs. The back lawn is fraught with peril in your bare feet with poor visibility. ugh
Aaaahhh, it was great. The sun was an orange ball over my right shoulder, the half moon visible straight ahead. Two cats to keep me company, one on the bench and *The Dullard* stalking me across the open lawn. You remember *The Dullard* she's the one who thinks the radio is a heater and if she hides her head we can't see her.
I floated on my back with a feeling of contentment, I could hear the new flag flapping in the breeze, the big sprinkler on the front yard and very little else. I could smell the slight tang of the pigs next door, but the honey suckle gave it a nice sweet undertone and it wasn't so bad.
I floated in the knowledge that I wasn't tired from cooking because I made supper this morning to beat the heat. I floated in the knowledge that my critters were fed and the watering was done.
I floated in the knowledge that my DSH (domesticated short hair) was doing the dishes.
All in all a perfect pool evening. Life is good.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Friction fires; or the reason I can't go into the forest.
There are times in a woman's life when she experiences what I like to call a *Wardrobe Milestone*
For example, her first pair of ice skates. (even when her mom got them off of Swap 'n' Shop for five bucks) These skates bring such joy and a feeling of importance, she's a big girl now, watch out. Several turned ankles and an aching butt later she realizes that maybe the skates were cheap and 5th hand so she blames her mother for her in expertise. (it's a given)
For me, my next milestone was the training bra, in Grade 4. (already busting outta the thing) I was chased by a pack of 10 year old boys for the whole year. I had a permanent bruise on my back, was round shouldered and, you guessed it, blamed my mother.
As I entered my 11th year, bruised, limping and suffering from poor posture, my mother decided I was ready for the next *MILESTONE* Not a *Wardrobe Milestone* Per Se, a cosmetic one
This brings us to the dreaded home permanent. I was strapped into a chair at the sink, wrenched backward and my hair soaked under the tap. (kind of a home water boarding) The dog's toe rag wrapped around my thin limp hair I was escorted to the kitchen table whereupon she rolled each 1/4 inch of my hair into tight pin curls then proceeded to douse me in chemicals that not only burned my scalp, but left me with a squint that I have to this day. The end result was badly damaged hair, which stayed frizzy for approximately two days. This I rightfully blamed on my mother.
The 12th year of my pitiful existence was highlighted by hot pants and high heels. My first pair of bell bottoms and a rash from the polyester. I entered Grade 8 limping, squinting, huddled, itchy and frizzy, but I was 2 inches taller. This was also the year I discovered acne. This I blamed on my mother.
By my 16th year I considered myself HAWT and wore my first (and last) bikini. It was a thing of beauty (not unlike I was) it had wooden hoops at each hip and one between the ever expanding boobs. This I thanked my mother for. Good genes I thought at the time. I also had my first bout of mouth sores, for this I blamed my mother.
For most women the next few milestones are a formal gown and then a wedding gown. I had no formal but I did have a 2nd hand homemade wedding gown. ( which the previous bride wore at 6 months pregnant). It was polyester. I was 95lbs, so on my wedding day I was boobless from weight loss, tripping over my heels and the dreaded rash was back. My hair had been done by a professional and it lasted 5 minutes as there was a gale force wind in Prince Rupert. I blamed my mother. She should have moved to some place warmer and windless.
The first sexy lingerie, now a girl has really grown up, watch out world! again with the rash.....
Maternity clothes, nuff said.
Now at the grand old age of 48, and having given birth to the two "Heads". Being arthritic and fat from my meds (NOT the beer). I've graduated into the unknown once again. For decency's sake and the protection of small children and animals I've found myself having to wear what I call a bathski. (bathing suit skirt all in one) (A onesi for old fat broads if you will) It's not a skort, lady golfers wear those, so they have to be cool right? Me, not so much.
I used to wear a pair of men's trunks, looked OK, hid the thighs. This year however I have the unfortunate problem of my thighs rubbing together. (this is not pretty)
I'm waiting for BC fire services to ban me from the forest. At the beach it's OK, the sound of the surf drowns it out. At the lake or at a pool, I give everyone in sight a bag of crinkly chips. This will work for the initial dunking, but I have to hustle back because they can't swim for a half hour after consuming them and they'll hear me.
I sit huddled, rashy, blistery, with aching ankles and frizzy hair waiting for the next *Wardrobe Milestone* I wonder what it'll be? Support hose? A girdle? sigh
For example, her first pair of ice skates. (even when her mom got them off of Swap 'n' Shop for five bucks) These skates bring such joy and a feeling of importance, she's a big girl now, watch out. Several turned ankles and an aching butt later she realizes that maybe the skates were cheap and 5th hand so she blames her mother for her in expertise. (it's a given)
For me, my next milestone was the training bra, in Grade 4. (already busting outta the thing) I was chased by a pack of 10 year old boys for the whole year. I had a permanent bruise on my back, was round shouldered and, you guessed it, blamed my mother.
As I entered my 11th year, bruised, limping and suffering from poor posture, my mother decided I was ready for the next *MILESTONE* Not a *Wardrobe Milestone* Per Se, a cosmetic one
This brings us to the dreaded home permanent. I was strapped into a chair at the sink, wrenched backward and my hair soaked under the tap. (kind of a home water boarding) The dog's toe rag wrapped around my thin limp hair I was escorted to the kitchen table whereupon she rolled each 1/4 inch of my hair into tight pin curls then proceeded to douse me in chemicals that not only burned my scalp, but left me with a squint that I have to this day. The end result was badly damaged hair, which stayed frizzy for approximately two days. This I rightfully blamed on my mother.
The 12th year of my pitiful existence was highlighted by hot pants and high heels. My first pair of bell bottoms and a rash from the polyester. I entered Grade 8 limping, squinting, huddled, itchy and frizzy, but I was 2 inches taller. This was also the year I discovered acne. This I blamed on my mother.
By my 16th year I considered myself HAWT and wore my first (and last) bikini. It was a thing of beauty (not unlike I was) it had wooden hoops at each hip and one between the ever expanding boobs. This I thanked my mother for. Good genes I thought at the time. I also had my first bout of mouth sores, for this I blamed my mother.
For most women the next few milestones are a formal gown and then a wedding gown. I had no formal but I did have a 2nd hand homemade wedding gown. ( which the previous bride wore at 6 months pregnant). It was polyester. I was 95lbs, so on my wedding day I was boobless from weight loss, tripping over my heels and the dreaded rash was back. My hair had been done by a professional and it lasted 5 minutes as there was a gale force wind in Prince Rupert. I blamed my mother. She should have moved to some place warmer and windless.
The first sexy lingerie, now a girl has really grown up, watch out world! again with the rash.....
Maternity clothes, nuff said.
Now at the grand old age of 48, and having given birth to the two "Heads". Being arthritic and fat from my meds (NOT the beer). I've graduated into the unknown once again. For decency's sake and the protection of small children and animals I've found myself having to wear what I call a bathski. (bathing suit skirt all in one) (A onesi for old fat broads if you will) It's not a skort, lady golfers wear those, so they have to be cool right? Me, not so much.
I used to wear a pair of men's trunks, looked OK, hid the thighs. This year however I have the unfortunate problem of my thighs rubbing together. (this is not pretty)
I'm waiting for BC fire services to ban me from the forest. At the beach it's OK, the sound of the surf drowns it out. At the lake or at a pool, I give everyone in sight a bag of crinkly chips. This will work for the initial dunking, but I have to hustle back because they can't swim for a half hour after consuming them and they'll hear me.
I sit huddled, rashy, blistery, with aching ankles and frizzy hair waiting for the next *Wardrobe Milestone* I wonder what it'll be? Support hose? A girdle? sigh
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I have a friend
I have a friend, who challenges me.
I have a friend, who is intelligent and witty.
I have a friend, who makes me laugh.
I have a friend, who holds me up.
I have a friend, who tells me like it is.
I have a friend, who knows obscure song lyrics.
I have a friend, who drives on vacation.
I have a friend, who knows my darkest thoughts.
I have a friend, who loves me in spite of myself.
I have a friend, who is always there for me.
I have a friend, who is sometimes misunderstood.
I have a friend, who lives in physical pain.
I have a friend , who means the world to me.
I have a friend, who I love.
I have a friend, who has a birthday tomorrow.
Happy Birthday my dear friend, and I wish for you many more pain free years.
I have a friend, who is intelligent and witty.
I have a friend, who makes me laugh.
I have a friend, who holds me up.
I have a friend, who tells me like it is.
I have a friend, who knows obscure song lyrics.
I have a friend, who drives on vacation.
I have a friend, who knows my darkest thoughts.
I have a friend, who loves me in spite of myself.
I have a friend, who is always there for me.
I have a friend, who is sometimes misunderstood.
I have a friend, who lives in physical pain.
I have a friend , who means the world to me.
I have a friend, who I love.
I have a friend, who has a birthday tomorrow.
Happy Birthday my dear friend, and I wish for you many more pain free years.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Impaired thinking
Some questions:
Do you bathe with a plugged in toaster?
Do you stick screwdrivers into electrical sockets?
Do you dive into the shallow end of the pool?
Do you run with scissors?
Do you let your kids play in traffic?
Do you lock your dog in a hot car?
No?
Then why do so many of you drink and ride/drive?
Are you damaged?
Think about how you'd feel if you killed someone.
Think about the paramedic who has to scrape you off the road.
Think about the motherless child you may leave behind.
Think about the person you may paralyze.
Think about the poor SOB who hits you due to your carelessness.
It's not just about you and your deluded reasoning on how much alcohol you can handle.
There are no excuses for drinking and riding/driving, if you think there is your thinking is impaired.
I can handle my liquor.
I weigh 300 lbs so this won't get me drunk.
It's only one with lunch.
It's been an hour since my last one.
I'm a functioning alcoholic.
nonononononononononono WRONG!!
There have been so many deaths this year in the riding community, not due to alcohol, due to all manner of things. It's dangerous enough on a motorcycle, don't make it worse.
If you have a death wish, put the damn toaster in the tub, don't get drunk and drive on my roads. Think about your kids for Christs' sake.
Do you bathe with a plugged in toaster?
Do you stick screwdrivers into electrical sockets?
Do you dive into the shallow end of the pool?
Do you run with scissors?
Do you let your kids play in traffic?
Do you lock your dog in a hot car?
No?
Then why do so many of you drink and ride/drive?
Are you damaged?
Think about how you'd feel if you killed someone.
Think about the paramedic who has to scrape you off the road.
Think about the motherless child you may leave behind.
Think about the person you may paralyze.
Think about the poor SOB who hits you due to your carelessness.
It's not just about you and your deluded reasoning on how much alcohol you can handle.
There are no excuses for drinking and riding/driving, if you think there is your thinking is impaired.
I can handle my liquor.
I weigh 300 lbs so this won't get me drunk.
It's only one with lunch.
It's been an hour since my last one.
I'm a functioning alcoholic.
nonononononononononono WRONG!!
There have been so many deaths this year in the riding community, not due to alcohol, due to all manner of things. It's dangerous enough on a motorcycle, don't make it worse.
If you have a death wish, put the damn toaster in the tub, don't get drunk and drive on my roads. Think about your kids for Christs' sake.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Puking out my back door, and other follies.

I'd apologize for being so long in between blogs, but meh...
Where to start? Rupert was sad, sweet, humbling, and anger inducing. The service was really nice, some of the people not so much. Family is sure a nasty business, luckily it wasn't my family for a change.
I worked hard there helping BFF with all I could, cleaning and hauling and arranging and cooking and dishes....LORD the dishes! I'm worried about her. She has since been Dr ordered off of work with palpitations and high blood pressure. I had a similar go around after my Mom passed. It's a complicated thing losing your mother. I hope she'll be ok. Buzz and I had to cancel our interior bike trip as we're going back up in a couple weeks to attend the 100th b-day celebrations and finish up with the house.
Husband of BFF is having problems with his elderly father as well. It's not my place to say what, suffice it to say, his dad is on a list for an emergency placement in a locked facility. His parents live in town here, so I've been in contact with his mom to see if she's ok.
Niece of BFF is having a very complicated pregnancy, she's diabetic and obese. Another friend is also having a complicated pregnancy, looks like the baby may have problems.. J is on the list for more surgery and having a Hell of a time with funding and support for her special needs kids. Another elderly friend has breast cancer. Then there's my drunk sister, who has somehow *forgotten* the bawling out she received and it's business as usual. Damn.
Yeah, yeah, I'll stop. Soon. I've been sick off and on for a couple weeks, puking and all that goes with. My tooth has broken again, the new red microwave has broken, both cars have had work done on them this week and to add a little icing on the shit pile that is my life....the fucking mower seized up. Let us not forget the septic field trouble....again.
We have a new dog in the hood, Louie. Yup great name, annoying dog. I wish people would take proper care of their pets. He's at large half the time and either in our yard shitting and stealing food/bones, or in the middle of the damn road. I've had people knock on my door and ask if he's mine. This makes me feel responsible for him, I don't want him to get hit or lost or whatever. Buzz has taken him home and locked him on his deck, and again you feel responsible. Does he have water? Is he going to get out again?
I figured after Drunkie, the Una-bomber, Damien and Lucifer moved on that the neighbourhood would be quiet again....hah Louie barks all the time as well, a hair raising small siren squeal that I could happily live without.
Isn't this fun? Maybe I was worried about sounding negative?
I won't go into the reasons as you people are cognizant about world events, the following list of things has sent me into a tail spin.
Karla Homolka-pardon.
Clifford Olson-pension.
Hugo Tale-Yax-Good Samaritan.
Michael Kandola-Gay basher.
Betty Thomas-lost in Skaha lake.
HST-pre collection period.
Constable Peter Hodson-VPD drug lord.
Hojjat Ol-Eslam Kazem Sediqi-Misogynistic fear mongering coward.
Some good things.
Boobquake.
Hockey.
Bike is insured.
Tiger lost the Masters.
I've been watching Deadliest Catch, it's bittersweet knowing that Phil is close to his end. I've been a rabid follower of that show for 4 years or so and it won't be the same without him. Ms. Redgrave passed yesterday, 67 years old. She sure fought the good fight for 7 years, a family acting dynasty is coming to an end.
We had a good Easter, lots of soup for the freezer, I made gallons of the stuff. 31 years into this relationship and Buzz finally gets up the nerve to tell me he doesn't like salt pork in his pea soup.....eh?
Quiet birthday, I'm still owed a lunch. Jilly made me a nice gift, a copper license plate modeled off the one from my mom's bike.
Well this should either have you laughing, suicidal, or thanking your God that you aren't me. At least it's not cancer. Right? I'll blog a funny later. Booker Todd has a story to tell.
Well the sun shines on a dog's ass every once in awhile; I guess it's my turn~Capt'n Phil.
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