The Ass Chronicle
The Ass Chronicle
**WARNING** You will see my whole ass in this post. Be prepared.
Saturday July 18th
Worked outside on the gardens and plants all day in the 100-degree heat. I kept feeling something hurting on the crack of my ass. I thought it was a pimple (which would be strange cause im not a pimply ass type lady) or it was a fire ant bite because I had gotten into a whole nest of them who had taken up residence in an aloe plant.
Sunday July 19th
More painful than the day before, still laughing that an ant was in my ass crack and why wouldn’t it be? I found one in my cleavage too.
Monday July 20th
Pain continues to grow and I begin to wonder if it’s a boil. I google boil and scare the shit out of myself realizing that boils are staph.
Tuesday July 21st
Find out that my cousin has been having boils and we’re shared towels. The pain is so bad this day that I cant get out of bed.
By now my left hip is all jacked up from trying to sleep without hitting my ass wound.
Wednesday July 22nd
Drove myself to wal mart while hovering over the seat because I couldn’t sit down. I had to find a heating pad and some crazy ointment my dad told me to get.
I got home and started heating my ass to get the fist sized bump to open up and drain. Not only did I have to heat my ass but I had to heat my hip ass well since apparently I am 100 years old. I then put on the ointment that is black tar-esque and smells the same laid on my stomach and waited for it to open. I developed a fever and started feeling really sick and this is when I really tried to convince everyone I was ok so they wouldn’t make me go to the hospital. I am deathly afraid of doctors and all their evil equipment. I was in the most pain I have ever been in aside from labor. It felt like ripping, burning, and pulling all at the same time. By 10:30 that night it had gotten so bad that I found some darvocet my grandpa had and I took one. This is coming from someone who is also afraid of pain pills. I think they will make me throw up. After all three births the only thing I took was Advil. About a half hour after taking the pill I was nearly pain free and the rest of the pain I had was forgotten by me being wasted and laughing. At least it put me to sleep. I woke up at 2am and by 3 I had to take another pill to get back to sleep.
Thursday July 23rd
My fever broke and the draining started. I have a hole the size of a nickel on the old asser. Just wound pad after wound pad soaked with blood and pus. I made a routine of shower to clean it, dress it with Neosporin filled pads then do it all over again 2 hours later.
Friday July 24th
Was able to walk around some this day! Road to recovery!
Saturday July 25th
Up and about for a while, bed for a while, then went and watched Bill kill the Laff Stop in Houston. I ended up ass bleeding through my pants. Too much too soon friends.
Sunday July 26th
Threw a memorial bbq for my grandpa and had to get in the shower to ass clean before the guests even left. I neglected to tell them the ass would story over hamburgers.
Fast-forward to right now July 30th
Feeling better each day. I’m able to sit on it for little bits of time, which is HUGE. It’s healing up ok. I’m sure there will be a scar so there goes Playboy.
If this ever happens again please, someone just kill me.
A Funeral Story Part 3
Part 3
We drove home that day in shock and somehow avoiding the reality of what had just happened. We managed to sidestep dealing with the actual death and instead concerning ourselves with the next tasks we had to get done.
We came home and decided we needed to call his biological kids and let them know that their dad passed away. Let me go back 25 years to give some background info. Dean came into my life when I was about 4 years old. He got into a relationship with my biological maternal grandmother, who’s only reason for being in my life I am convinced, was to bring him to my life. She ended up leaving him for a black dude 20 years younger than herself about 7 years ago. I haven’t spoken to her since. Anyway he was married for about 20 years before my grandmother and two sons. I can’t say why they didn’t have a relationship. He was my grandpa we talked about things like gardening and Emeril not relationships gone bad.
So I found his ex wife’s number who I know nothing about and called her and let her know what happened. She immediately launched in telling me about how he was a mean man and when they got divorced she only got 20k. When I got divorced I got bad credit and a shitty ex-husband who never pays child support. I would have rolled naked in 20k if that’s what I would have gotten out of a divorce. I told her I may need his son Darrell to call and get the VA to release the body to me and she informed me that the other son was older but if he wouldn’t then Darrell would gladly do it. This woman and Darrell have had no communication with him for 29 years but in the last year she had started calling him out of the blue. He told me he thought she was checking in to see how much time he had left. I then called his other son, Wimberly (don’t ask me where the shit that name came from). He did have a small relationship with this son and I have talked to him before on the phone. He said he would help in anyway he could. He also told me I should have never called his mother because for as long as they have been divorced she has said when Dean dies she’s “going to get her piece”. He said that I shouldn’t call them back and let them know when the funeral was either because they would make trouble for me. Like I needed one more damn thing to worry about.
We had to wait until Monday for the VA to finally call me and tell me that everything was OK for me to make the arrangements for the funeral home to come and pick him up. They put me through all the worry and now I had let two vultures know that he had died so now I had them buzzing around.
I went to the bank on Monday to see if I was ok to write check from his bank account since I knew I was on there and I would have to pay funeral expenses. She told me that I hadn’t been on his account since early 2009, which is when this nosey ass lady across the street started coming around and somehow got him to put her name on his checking account in case something happened she could pay his bills. His lawyer then told him to get her the hell off his account, which he did but he opened a whole new account with 3k in there in case anything happened. He put her name on it so she could write the checks. Her husband ended up leaving her shortly after and she asked if she could borrow money from my grandpa. He let her have 500 bucks and told me she doesn’t have to pay it back because she’s having a hard time. So after I left the bank I called her and asked her to go take out that money and give it to me so I could pay for things. She acted very strange on the phone and said she would call me back. She called back telling me the lawyer said she didn’t have to give me the money. She didn’t HAVE to give me the money legally but you would think it was his money, he just died and his family needs it to settle things you’d gladly hand it over. She said he told her the money was to pay his bills. Later that day I had to get an AC guy over because we’d been staying in the 90-degree house for days. While he was still there I called her again and asked if she could bring the checkbook over and write him a check. She started yelling at me that the money was to take care of his dog and asked if she could have the dog. I told her um no you can’t have his dog and she asked ME why would you do that? I said you need to pay this bill; it’s a household bill. She then told me the money was to pay his credit card (which has a current balance of .20 cents.) and asked for the credit card so she could cancel it. I told her I wasn’t giving out his credit cards for other people to cancel. When I told her that she said she wasn’t giving me the money because he didn’t trust me. With that I said, you’re a terrible human and hung up on her. I hope she doesn’t think that I am just going to let it go. Oh I wish I could. Instead I will photocopy every bill he gets and send it to her in the mail. Will she pay them? Hell no. Will it be a constant reminder she stole from an old man? Yep. Will it be annoying to her? Yep. Will it save me jail time because I won’t burn down her house? Possibly.
A Funeral Story Part 2
I always believed I would have my grandpa into his 90’s. His mom was 94 when she died and I thought he would be the same age. He was always a healthy active guy and I wasn’t prepared for this at all.
I woke up Saturday morning with dread in my heart. I knew what was about to happen but facing death with a countdown just doesn’t seem real. My aunt and I got to the hospital at 11am and the doctor was supposed to be there at 12. So we held his hands and told stories about him and laughed. I am certain the nursing staff thought we were insane if they were even paying attention at all. The VA seems like the place doctors and nurses work if they were at the bottoms of their class.
The doctor rolled in at 12:30 and asked if we were still going to discontinue the life support. I knew as soon as I touched my grandpas hand when I got to the hospital the day before that he was no longer in there. His hand felt dead and artificial. He was lifeless and I knew that I had to let him go. I told the doctor to go ahead and he assured me I was doing the right thing. Even so I still feel like somehow it’s my fault.
The doctor gave us a little briefing on what may happen as his body was shutting down and he really managed to terrify us. He said there may be gasping, shaking, tremors and a whole lot of other horrifying things. We each grabbed a hand and held on for dear life. We watched as they took out his ventilator and stopped the flow of IV meds. We just stared at the monitors and watched his heart rate and waiting for the lonely sound of the flat line to signify the end. At 12:57 I saw that the heart was just about to stop and I braced myself. I looked at Pam and we both started to cry. My heart was just about totally broken at that point when all the sudden we hear beeps again and looked up to see his heart rate back up in the 60’s. I looked at Pam and said Uh, is he just messing with us? We had no idea what was going on so we started to laugh. We watched the monitor and him for another 25 minutes before he was really gone. He was stubborn even in death- true to form. A few mins later his body jerked and made a gasping sound that I can still hear over and over in my head. I remember saying out loud; well I could have done without that. We watched the 0 heart rate mock us for I don’t know how long until the doctor came in and said he was gone.
Pam and I waited for an hour in shock, sadness, and laughter – true to our form for someone to come and tell us what the hell we were supposed to do next. As we started to wonder what to do Pam asked me, we weren’t supposed to rent a hearse or something were we? Listen if I hadn’t watched the Six Feet Under series 75 times I might have not known the answer to that question. I knew that our very own David Fisher would come to the hospital and pick him up.
We were finally sent down to a lady who handles the bodies. She gave me a hard time because I’m not a biological relative and I gave her the will, which names me alone as the executrix and beneficiary. She said she had to make a copy but her copy machine wouldn’t work and rather than go use one that did work she requested I fax the will. I didn’t realize that by her not completing this right at the time it would lead to a whole mess of trouble.
A Funeral Story Part 1
One week ago I was sitting at work when I got a phone call from my grandpa’s friend Virginia. She said my grandpa had collapsed and was being rushed to the hospital. I drove home, threw the worst possible suitcase of clothes possible and hit the road headed for Houston.
My aunt called while I was driving saying that he’d been life flighted to the VA and he was going to get surgery on his brain. I drove all night with updates in between. My aunt Pam waited until his surgery was over sitting next to some jackass “friend” of the family squaking in her ear all night about money and his estate and what I need to do with everything. Surgery was finally over around 12am and the doctor came out and explained that he’d had some cells that had probably been growing since childhood rupture. They removed the cells causing a hole in the brain and major bleeding and swelling. The doctor then told my aunt that he had a 99.9% chance of waking up. I still had 14 hours to drive with this information swimming around my mind.
5am my phone rang and I was in full panic thinking it was the hospital calling to give me bad news. When I answered it was his neighbor Terry. Let me preface this by telling you a little about his woman. She lives across the street from my grandpa and works at the same place. She claimed to have taken care of him but I never saw it. She like to lie and just be an asshole in general. My grandpa made a second checking account with this womans name on it so she could pay bills for him in an emergency. He put 3k in there and he let her have $500 for bills and there was $2500.00 left in it. She was calling at 5am to tell me that if he makes it through I need to get everything out of his name and I need to put everything in 2 other peoples names. She went on and on talking about how he will be an invalid and all kinds of bullshit.
I finally made it to the hospital at 1:30 on Friday. I met my aunt at the door and she took me up to the sicu. It smelled of death and hand sanitizer. When I got to his bedside he was hooked up to every machine you could think of. I grabbed his hand and instantly I knew he was no longer in his body. It felt dead and artificial. No one else knew expect me that he had a directive on file with his lawyer saying that he didn’t want to be kept on life support. I called the lawyer and had them fax his directive. I couldn’t watch him lay like that when I knew he didn’t want to. We stayed for hours and then the doctor called to talk to me. He told me what the chances were and I told him about his directive. We decided that noon the next day the support would cease.
Sir, I do not want to buy your dining table
Listen friends, I am having a really hard time understanding why it’s so hard to support each other. We’re in a bad economic way, this is “hardtimes” as my grandpa Dean would say. Everyone is struggling so wouldn’t it make more sense to support local business than to go to wal mart and feed the beast?
That being said, why can’t you and your friends come to the craft show I am putting on? You don’t know what you’re doing Sept 5th yet and if you do then that’s a legitimate excuse. Admission is free and you don’t have to buy anything but coming down to support local businesses and local artists would mean a lot to them and me. I’m not trying to sell you Tupperware, I just want everyone to have a good ass time.
Next topic- People call my job and ask me weird shit all the time. Yesterday a dude called and before I could answer I hear him yelling at a woman telling her to shut up. I politely waited till he was done bitching to say hello. He asked if we were a furniture design company and I said yes. He then asks if we buy used furniture. How does furniture design imply we buy your old shit? I tell him no and he asks me who does. I said I don’t know, put it on craigslist. He then proceeds to tell me he has to pay rent and has to sell his item today. Then he says, it’s a beautiful oak and marble table do you want to buy it?
Do I sound like someone that is part of an amish mexican couple?
The Cat Peed on my Biological Clock
The last year my biological clock has really been ticking away. We thought about it, decided what month would be good to have a baby and even picked out a name. I mean I’m 30, I can’t just be waiting around forever.
A few weeks ago I started finding baby kittens around the shop and bringing them home, cleaning them up and finding homes for them. I brought one home and put him in my room with me because I didn’t want the other cats getting to him and I didn’t want him to find some cranny in my house to get stuck in. I made him an area with a blanket, food, water and litter so he could spend the night and go to his new home the next day.
3am: The meowing starts. I dragged him out from under the bed and put him back in his box to see if he was hungry. Nope not hungry. Starts meowing again. I picked him up and put him in bed with me where we slept snuggled together for an hour.
4am: The meowing starts again. This time he does not want to snuggle and still doesn’t want food. I’m sure he just wanted to go back to his mom and his home but his home was a shop van and sometimes an old board. My bed surely had to have been better than that.
5am: At wits end, I took the kitten out to my car and let him sleep in a jacket.
10am: Realizing I can’t let the baby sleep outside I decided I don’t want one.
Tree Cutter Downers Should NOT Start at 8am.
Well it’s summer now right? It still doesn’t feel like summer and I wonder if that will ever come back. Do we lose ourselves so much in life that we forget to notice the little things. It doesn’t feel like summer. Summer should feel like freedom, warm sun, and hope. More and more it feels like just another day we have to get through. Is that just because of jobs, money, and trying to pay rent? I hope someday it feels like summer again.
On another note, Im so sick of being mislead by really good movie trailers only to pay 9 bucks to go see the damn thing and the best parts were in the preview. Come on man. The Hangover, seriously would you really have to pay a kidnapper 80k in Vegas? The best parts were Zach Galifinakis just being himself. Why can’t they just make a real life funny shit that happens movie? That’s the good stuff. Year One would have been way better if it was just Jack Black and Michael Cera would have just been sitting on a log talking for 2 hours. Oh but who am I? I am no filmaker just a lowly consumer of film. I don’t know if I can bear to go in there one more time and be disappointed though.
Bill’s show is Saturday. Sadly I won’t be there to see the show with everyone. I have a wedding to photograph. I should be back home before the show lets out though to get the fire ready and have a tasty beverage before everyone gets to the Casa de Squire afterparty. It’s going to be a great time.
Wine Night is July 18th and I have to photograph something that day too I just realized but I will be done in time to get thee to the winery and lay back, eat some food and drink some wine with my beautiful friends. Come if you can, we’ll laugh on the patio overlooking the rows of grapes under the night stars. If it rains we’ll just move the jam inside and turn that motha out.
The most exciting news is that my Joshy Jarvis is coming to Ohio to visit. He has never been here so we have to show him as awesome time as we can considering he is from the most beautiful place on earth, Oregon. Any ideas for sweet things to do would be appreciated.
Stop it Ladies
Why do ladies have to bitch and argue at work? Thank god I just have to work with mr chats himself-strauss and not some damn old catty hen. I walked into giant eagle this morning and all I hear while Im trying to pick out bagels at the bakery is this ladies giant ass mouth bitching about some other lady who was “just trying to get me in trouble”. I highly doubt anyone at the bakery is out to get you lady. Anytime when women work together there is bound to be the she did this she did that, I hate her but I will be really nice to her when she’s in front of me BS. There are a sweet select few of us cool ass broads that can work together but aside from that there should be a one women to a room deal. They are just too insane. If they could just punch each other and move on then it would be just fine. That’s the test to find out if you’re a cool ass broad or a fucking hen. If you can get mad at your girlfriend and just fight it out and then go get a coke you’re cool. If you sit next to each other and fake nice and then subject everyone else in the world to your bitching about it then you have to sit in a room alone all day with no other humans.
By the way, my sister accidentally deleted her facebook or got locked out of it somehow. Does anyone know how to contact a human at facebook?
Vag Med and Rum Goes Hand in Hand
I think my head will fall right off if one more person in a customer service position can’t understand a sense of humor. I get it man, I’ve been in retail. Dealing with the public really truly just blows ass all kinds a ways. I swear to holy lord jesus I am delightful and hilarious. Why do these people not understand me? Making jokes in the McD drive thru should brighten their horrendous day wouldn’t you think?
Yesterday whilst at the Target Pharmacy getting some vag med and lime rum I made a comment that it was mojito monday and the girl looked at me like a rock with eyes. Slowly she said whaaa? I said, it’s a tasty rum drink. She says, is that everywhere? I never heard of it. Lady, I’m making fucking mojitos and it happens to be Monday and they both start with M. Have we ever been to an English class where they talk of alliteration? Or even in a shitty bar where they say things like Get Toasted Tuesday! This went awkwardly on for like a long painful full minute until I took my script and rum and got the hell out of there.
Next time I am in public and have to deal with someone I vow to make no jokes, look straight ahead even if that’s not the direction the person I am talking to is in and speak slowly and clearly and possibly in the fashion of a robot and see if that get’s me anywhere because obviosly being charming is not working for me.
Mommas PLEASE let your babies grow up to be cowboys!
My friend is struggling with something a lot of women are struggling with. The quest to find a nice gentleman. The elusive man who holds the door open for you, walks around to open your car door, pays for your dinner, and does not expect you to blow him on your first date. Do they really exist anymore? Are all men just stupid, slobbering crybabies?
We get it men, we get it. You’re hungry, you want your balls licked, you like porn. If you want to do all that all you have to do is be a nice gentleman. Ask a lady on a proper date. I don’t know what has made you all think that posting your small stupid looking penis on craigslist with an ad that says who wants to ride this? Give me a call. is what you need to do to find a woman. You see a nice lady, ask her ass to dinner. Bring her some flowers to the door and open her fucking car door. How is that going to hurt you? The way I see it, you’re just working your way up to getting her right where you want her. Naked except for a french maid apron.
Don’t expect her to have sex with you within the first few times you see her. Stop thinking about it every second and actually listen to what she says. If you aren’t listening have the common decency to fucking act like it.
Ladies I think i’ve stumbled upon a great way to find a nice man. We have to scout out the parents. If you find a mother with an available son and sit down and talk to her you can tell what kind of asshole or cowboy her kid is. When the mom tells you her son is perfect and never has a bad word to say you know that boy is damaged ass goods and might as well marry his mom because NO ONE will ever compare to that bitch and she has ruined his ass by letting him get away with murder as a kid, catering to him, doing his laundry, and granting his every wish. Run away from that house.
On the other hand if you meet a mother that has criticisms of her son your ears should perk up. Mothers that say things like, he really needs to get a better job and buy a house. My son needs to settle down. My son was just here the other day fixing my car and he didn’t even stay long enough to visit with me. My son cuts my grass… Then you know you need to have a meeting with this man. This man, fixes shit, cuts his moms grass and HAS A JOB. That’s someone worth meeting.
So a word to men, wash your own laundry, cut the grass and learn how to fix your damn car or make enough money to be able to pay someone else to do it. Stop being a pig and go on some nice dates and stop posting your cock all over the Internet.
Ladies, seek the mothers.
candrasquire.com 