Rhett: "Frankly My Dear...

I don't give a damn." Or something along those lines...maybe Ol' Blue Eyes, "I Did It My Way."

Methinks I'll take both and run like hell, sprinkle powdered sugar along the way since there is no fairy dust available, and sing Joplin as loudly as I can.

Hurray for tough old broads who stop pretending they are ladylike in their actions, and most certainly not in their thoughts. (*smirk*)

My new career is being a Traffic Cop. Since I have many events roaring towards me, some knocking me flat on my ample arse, others whizzing by me...I've decided to start directing them to different parking lots.

1. I Don't Give A FF Parking Lot.

2. Maybe I Give A FF Parking Lot

3. Park Here Until I Decide If I Give A FF

I've a shiny new whistle, pretty blue bloomers and gold pasties, and I know how to belly dance. I learned to belly dance 'cause I didn't know what else bellies were good for. The pasties were specially made for me. We used duct tape to hike 'em up closer to my shoulders/further away from my belly button. Once the boobs were in place, we super-glued the gold--yeah, super glue. Ya think after all that I'm taking a chance on losing the gold??! Ha!

Parking lots are necessary right now, for my sanity and for the safety of others. I'm tired of jumping up, falling down, rolling sideways, (rolling in the hay is so much better), ducking, swerving, and any other verbs that describe what I've been doing. How be if I park all these things coming at me and deal with them one at a time? First? A day or two at the lake...going to water for healing.

I'm not going to skinny dip; I'm chunky dunking.