Much Rambling to Do

I’m actually bored right now. Brandi is asleep in this beautiful bassinet that Joseph’s grandfather made. He is a woodworker, so he made it and did these gorgeous wood burnings of angels on it. (When I learn how to do the pics the right way, I’ll show you. Oh, and thank you StarLight and DakotaParks for trying to teach me, I’m just kind of goofy, I think.)

Brandy went with a bunch of her coworkers to a casino on the border with Oklahoma. It Winstar, I think. I want to go gambling. I went to Shreveport two years ago, damn I would love to go again. She’s a butthead. Gambling without me. I’m sending her a big mental raspberry right now, because you know we twins can do that kind of thing. No, I’m not retarded, I’m bored.

I really don’t know what to do with this quite time. I should probably be sleeping. Even Brandi’s doctor told me to sleep while she sleep, but damnit, I am not sleepy right now.

Joseph and Dad are doing some side job for a guy Joseph knows. Yeah, some cash to go pay a bill with. Aren’t we lucky? Oh I know, we can go buy a gallon of milk , since it is almost five fucking dollars a gallon. What the hell happened? Did we jump to the 30th century or something, where cows can go on strike and raise the price to five fucking dollars? Am I alone in that thought? Please don’t tell me that Dallas is the only place where milk and butter are worth the price of gold? I’m going to have to go on food stamos just to pay for milk. Okay, I’ll move on.

An old friend came by last night to see Brandi. I haven’t seen her since our wedding. She was out driving to try and clear her head, because she was just diagnosed with vaginal cancer. (Didn’t really know you could get it there, but I guess it can go anywhere.) She said, “ I haven’t even used the gd’ed thing in ten years, and now its got cancer.” I love her. She is so damn crazy. I can’t believe that she is going to have to go through that now. Poor thing.

What else can I tell y’all? Oh, yeah, I hate my husband right now. When the doctor says six weeks with no sex, what does that mean? Six weeks with no sex, right? That is what I thought, but apparently in man time that means three is just way to many. I can’t even begin to tell you how he is pissing me off. I had my fucking middle cut open and a seven pound plus baby removed form it, why it the hell would I want his ass bumping and grinding away on top of me? Granted I feel pretty good and haven’t needed any pain medicine for a while, but good God, I did just have his child. I hate him. If I didn’t want more kids so badly, I would probably whack it off and throw it to the dogs. I think he is even counting the days left until my six weeks checkup. What an asshole.

Are y’all bored yet? I’m really long winded today. Oh well, guess I’ll try and lay down before she starts hollering. Bye y’all.

Mandy