How I Found Myself In A Courtroom with No Panties Part II

Okay......when we left off, I had finished explaining to Idiot from the County Attorneys Office that yes, I would be there, but not at 3:30 and not to just load my mentally and physically unstable grandfather in my car for a "danger ride". Now for, as they say, the rest of the story.....

I arrive at the courthouse and go directly to the county attorney's office. I had placed a couple of calls en route, one of which was to the office of a friend of mine who is the former county attorney here, only to find that he was in court in another county. Snag! But then was able to find that another "free legal counsel" type was at the courthouse. (it pays to have friends, for me, not them :-) )

When I went in I was told that they were already in the hearing but not to be upset because while I was on my way they had worked everything out with a gentleman from Adult Protection Services, he had spoken with someone from the VA Hospital and they would transport my grandfather by ambulance from the jail to the psychiatric unit there, all that needed to be done was for the judge to dismiss the charges in the courtroom.

I was dubious. There were other words exchanged that are unnecessary to this story. I was unkind. Damn me and my temper with the insipid people of this beautiful world of ours, but hey, you know what, my fucking head still hurts, my day to day life isn't always peachy and somebody needs to get bitched at every now and then or else, well, I'm going to stab an innocent.

After this *ahem* necessary exchange, I leave the office and slip into the courtroom. I start to look around. I notice that the only people I know are the attorneys, the police officers, the courtroom workers and the judge. Then, I take a closer look. I am surrounded by miscreants. Like, of the real kind. Not just like, our kind of miscreants, no, these are the people who we could only aspire to dream of understanding the sad depths of darkness inside the minds of, kind of miscreants, I mean, my grandfather shot at people, let's be clear, these are not speeding ticket people I am chilling next to today.

Suddenly, I almost laughed out loud! It occurred to me that I, the self-proclaimed Queen of let's not judge people, was sitting here judging people in this court of law, WEARING NO PANTIES!!!

Then I took another couple of glances around. I would almost swear that I was the only person in the whole room not wearing panties, which just made it that much better. Then, as all of this is going through my head, the county attorney turns and motions for me to walk up to the front of the room to the table in front of the divider. I am now walking up there trying not to shout to the room, "Yeah, I'm sans panties and my grandfathers nuts, fuck you, what about it!!!???" I did control the urge, but Oh. My. God. It would have felt so good! Plus, I know about 6 of the 8 attorneys and all 5 of the police who were on court duty and trust me, they would have LOVED it!!!

So, that is the story of how I found myself in a courtroom with no panties.

P.S. No, they didn't have a fucking thing lined out when my grandfather was transported to the VA hospital, in fact, he had to be transported out of the VA hospital because, hey, guess what?? They don't have proof he is a veteran. Sheesh!!

P.P.S. I wore panties today when I went back up there to tell them they fucked up

Wicked List of Things I Never Want To See Again.....

It's list time. Stop cheering. Calm down. I don't even know if I am that excited. Wow, I love that all of you get so enthusiastic. I really do. But, I just don't know how a girl is supposed to perform under this type of pressure. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm an exhibitionist at heart. I will be fine.

So, tonight/today's list is of thing's I never want to see again. So many ways one could go with this and you know me and my several different personalities, I am going to go all of them, well, maybe not all, but, yeah, most of them. Let's face it, I am diverse, my blogreading bitches. It's just how I roll. And roll we shall.....

Number 1 Thing I never want to see again: Ad for "Asian Teen Anal Foot Porn" Yes, you read that correctly. During an innocent *bats eyelashes to convince* search of blogs today and some various site engines and such, I clicked on the wrong thing, which then led me to click on another wrong thing, which then made me laugh, and well, okay, the next one I clicked on totally on purpose because it looked, well, funny but interesting, but then, there it was..."Asian Teen Anal Foot Porn" Still being a little weak in the stomach from the head injury, I didn't watch it, but can I just say, I don't ever even want to see that combination of words again. As if the words teen and porn don't bother me enough, let's throw in foot, okay, sorry. Let's go to number 2.

Number 2 Thing I never want to see again: A foot Yes, that's right. Any one's foot, I don't like feet. They gross me out completely. I hate feet in general. It might explain why I love shoes, or maybe it doesn't, I don't know. You know how people love baby's feet and kiss them and put them in their mouths? Yeah, so that makes me want to vomit. I said it. Not that I don't like babies, just that I don't like babies feet either. All feet are disgusting. If the sex is not really good and hot and I notice you just touched me with your foot, I just lost it, thanks, appreciate that, back to square one.

Number 3 Thing I never want to see again: Any movie ever made or that shall be made where a kid dies! Are you fucking kidding me?? At least give me a heads up on this stuff! Like something in the previews that says, "For you dipshits who haven't read the book and think these kids frolicking around look fun and carefree, one of them will DIE tragically" Whatthefuckever!! Bridge to Terabithia. Fuck. You. I despise you and all of the tears I, I mean my daughter, shed watching you. How dare you do that to me, err, my daughter? Moving on.

Number 4 Thing I never want to see again: The Informant starring Matt Damon What. The. Hell. Was. That.

Number 5 Thing I never want to see again: Naked Karaoke Remember this little treat from my trip to Nashville, where they lured us in with promises of naked karaoke but it was really just a sad little low rent strip club? Yeah, never want to see that again. I am all for going to the strip clubs with the group, but I really prefer to keep it on the high dollar end of town.

Number 6 Thing I never want to see again: That obese kid in the I Fuck On The First Date T-shirt It was mildly amusing, at best, the first time, then just sad, then it grew increasingly sadder until now, at which point it has become so depressing that everytime I see it I want to find the hole his mother lives in and beat the living shit out of her for letting her kid wear this shirt. Really??!! Of course the kid is smiling, he doesn't know any better, that shit is funny to a boy that age, he doesn't realize the whole world is laughing AT him, not WITH him. That is sort of what parents are for, to shield them from that sort of stuff. Epic fail!!

Number 7 Thing I never want to see again: People playing Texas Hold'em with their sunglasses upside down. Oh, don't you worry, not that I am anonymous here on my blog, but I have had this discussion face to face with Ed Hardy sporting bad boys at the poker tables too. One of whom felt that explaining the cost of said upside down sunglasses would somehow make him look like less of a douchebag. Not so, I pointed out, you merely look like a douche whose girlfriend wasted a lot of money. Know how to put an Ed Hardy sporting muscle bound Alpha male poker player on tilt and take all of his little chips away from him? *wicked grin* I do!

Number 8 Thing I never want to see again: The mullet as a popular hairstyle quite honestly, my head just isn't shaped quite right for it. Then there is the issue of the whole bang thing, I don't deal well with bangs. Plus, then men and women start looking alike. It's all very confusing to me. Please fashion god's, hear my pleas, don't do this, not again, never again.

Number 9 Thing I never want to see again: 5 hours worth of experimenting with a new art medium turn out to look like something one of my nieces could have done in 20 minutes. What. The. Fuck. Oh, before you other artsy peeps start doing the whole, that's what people said about...... No, trust me, it's shit, pure and utter shit. Laughable, really. So, I laughed, set it aside and will try again another day. But I reallyyyyyyy don't want to see that happen again. Gah!!

Number 10 Thing I never want to see again: A whole winter go by with no vacation from Kentucky I am a little spoiled. I don't like cold. Don't like (read, fucking hate, stabbity stab stab stab) snow, ice, cold rain. I am used to pampering with trips to Mexico and California in early February to get a break from this dreadful place. *deep, sad sigh* But not this year. No, this, our worst winter since, I don't know, my life fucking began (slight exaggeration possibly) I was stuck here. So no, I don't want to see that happen again. Ever.

There is tonight's list. Not sure how it reads. I will spellcheck and reread for coherency, but not changing content because I'm a rebel like that. ;-)

BTW, tomorrow is supposed to be the Q&A from formspring, so here's the deal, if you people, and you can ask anonymously, btw, don't ask me questions, then tomorrow I will post a blank page that says Wicked Wednesday's Question and Answers
Cause I give Good.........Answers. Don't test me people, I will do it. Now get thee to the top left corner and tap my box.

This Wicked Girl...........

........is not a fucking morning person. I have insomnia in a major way. Let me break that down for you, that means, I stay up late, then I lay down, I think about ridiculous shit that will never happen, but if by some bizarre, mind bending chance it does, I am prepared bitches. NO FEAR!! If you come to derby and the aliens attack, just call me, I have it all worked out. Thank you to the makers of Topomax, fuckers!

By prepared, I mean, like a couple of years ago, while having my morning coffee and watching the news, my sleepy little ass heard a rumbling, not like my stomach, like another fucking tornado (which we had experienced two months earlier), but further, and like slow, then it started to get louder, then it sounded like the wind, but then my house started to move.....yeah, you assholes on the left coast are laughing. We were having a fucking earthquake, in Kentucky. So, I literally sat on my sofa, look up at a giant picture hanging above my head and thought, "damn, how securely did I hang this?" then I continued to sit, under my giant picture....I also quickly calculated whether I should wake my children, who slept through the earthquake (my son also slept through tornado, but in his defense(?), he sleeps in basement, which is where we seek shelter, so I didn't wake him, we merely huddled next to him while trees fell all around us and the tornado touched down 50 yards away from my fucking house!!)(oops, that was a long parenthetical break) By the time I was finished weighing the pros and cons and had decided to let them sleep, the earthquake was over. No harm, no foul. Well, not to us. It did some very minor damage in the area. Plus, I didn't look like an idiot in a panic like the news people I was watching. I just sipped my coffee and had an earthquake.

....is also not a 9 to 5 kind of gal. Sitting in an office typing, filing, faxing. No, not my thing. I'm not very tolerant of people for long periods of time, I need breaks from them or I tend to get like a caged animal. I will bite, claw, chew my way through you. Whatever it takes to get free. I like jobs that mix it up. I like to have co-workers, obviously. Subordinates, I am fine with that too. Customers are fine, I like manipulating people around to making them think purchasing what I suggested was actually their idea. Obviously, I would prefer to just travel the world and write about my wicked journeys. Wouldn't you love to read about that? I would love to allow you that privilege. I will pitch it to numerous Travel type e-mags and real print monsters tomorrow, so be sure to comment about how MUCH you would pay to read that, in fact, send friends and family over to leave comments stating the same, we will sway them with this post (or something like that) and then we will all be winners!

.....might be a natural born killer. I am pretty sure I could kill a mother fucker. I have actually thought this through. Not like, plotted my ex-husband's death, kind of thought it through. Just the 'if someone did that to one of my kids' kind of thought it through. So, yeah, I am a natural born killer. Then I watched Last House on the Left. That totally sealed the deal. I am pretty sure you are supposed to be a little bit skeeved out by the fact that the normal people turn into brutal murderers. Ya know, instead of cheering like you are watching a ballgame. Oh well. I have the instinct and a daughter.

......would have to kill that mother fucker with a high heel. This is not a joke, the only sharp objects in my home I have never injured myself on but I know I could hurt a bad guy with are definitely some of my stilettos. So, yes, I will kill you, but it really will be with a beautiful Manolo to the carotid artery. Prepare yourself, my mother is a nurse, I have checked to be certain exactly where I need to plunge the heels, I am first going to plunge the death blow, then while you bleed out, I am definitely doing some more painful damage. Just giving you a heads up.(Zing! Pun, you knew it was coming, right?)

..........will totally get away with it because I am smart enough to set it all up in advance, fly in under a secret name with false documents and be back on location to continue my travels for my fantastic job where I write about my wicked journeys. Fuck, people keep up. We just covered that a few paragraphs back.

........would have totally been a stripper to pay my way through college.(had it not been for that whole "having a kid and husband at the time" thing) Also, my parents would be completely okay with it. They wouldn't like, come and watch or anything, but they wouldn't go into some sort of panic, as long as I wasn't taking any risks or on drugs, they wouldn't mind me using men's weakness for the female form to make money. My aunts and I have this debate all the time. One of them is appalled every time I say it, the other two are with me on it all the way and agree that they too still wish they had at least tried stripping. Funny, isn't it. Like some strange desire to have a roomful of people watch you undress. Exhibitionism at it's finest.

......is going to bed now. This non-morning person has to be awake at Oh Holy Hell it's early in the morning. So, I'm going to go lay awake and think up new ways to fend off the Taliban.

Wicked Girls Get Desperate, But Not Like THAT

I was talking with one of my not so wicked friends and she was telling me about some things going on in her life right now. As I was listening she actually used the word desperate. It stuck in my mind far after our conversation had ended. I thought about the last time I was truly desperate for something, or felt desperation in the way she was feeling it at this point in her life. She had used it in a way that made me feel sad and my heart reached out to her.(yes, I have one, it's just not touched by douchebags or "love when I can insert this non-word in a sentence" assclowns, random bitches and fuckups get no sympathy from me either)

My pondering made me realize that my feelings of desperation over the past several years were typically based on things such as desire to have some time alone, i.e., get the fuck away from me, I desperately want you out of my line of vision. Or a new pair of shoes,i.e., I would blow every man in that shoe department for those shoes I am so deperate to walk out of here wearing them. Sometimes I have a deep need to just have a night out with the girls, i.e., I give a fuck less how hard your day at work was I desperately need to get drunk, throw on some heels and makeup and lets go dance with men until they are so turned on they have to go circle jerk in the bathroom at the club, see you in 30 minutes. At other times it's a vacation with the love of my life, i.e., I desperately needed the trip we took a couple of years ago where we stayed in San Clemente and drove the PCH, went hot air ballooning and fucked like wild animals while watching the waves roll onto the beach.....mmmmmm, good times.

Point is, it hit me that none of the really wicked girls I know have ever shown signs of real desperation. Sure, we get worried or stressed. Fucking furious about things at times, no doubt, but desperate, not our scene. Why?

Simple, I realized, one of the key indicators of wicked girls is our absolute refusal to let anyone else control our destiny. It is by definition, OURS. Desperation stems from feeling a loss of control. I promise you, those who know me in real life could attest to this, there are lots of things going on in my life right now that I don't control the overall outcome of, but I am in total control of how I handle them, how I allow them to effect me and how I let them alter my life.

To all of you wicked girls in training, remember this; if you begin to feel a pang of desperation, in it's purest form, if you let it, it will control you. So, push it down, take control of it, conquer the situation, kick it's fucking ass and stomp it in the fucking head. If it lays in the floor crying and then tries to get back up, kick it again!!

In the end, you are your number one priority, I know this now, because as a mother, father, sister, brother, wife, husband, lover, friend you are no good to anyone if you aren't taking care of yourself.

Now you have a Wicked Assignment: Sometime between now and Monday, do one special thing for yourself then report back here in the comment section. Make it good and be true to yourself, don't cater to anyone but you.

Examples: yell at someone, get a massage, Skype cyber (LMAO see Wicked Confused post, Skype is officially only safe way to cyber), have too many drinks, skull fuck obnoxious guy at a party (just for you), have a slumber party with Neil Patrick Harris

Look forward to hearing what you did, I know exactly what I'm going to do, can't wait to share with ya'............

The Beginning

That's where all things start, right? I tried to pinpoint when I became wicked, to properly find the beginning for you. Turns out, I just can't seem to do that, must have been a slow transition.

When I checked Websters dictionary (thanks boys) to see exactly how accurate my depiction of myself really was, I found some interesting things, according to the good book ( no offense to anyone here) wicked is as follows
1)morally very bad ( ummm, some might see this as a good possibility with me, I take issue with that, I see myself as very forward and fun to be around)

2)Fierce, Vicious: disposed to or marked by mischief: Roguish (ding! ding! ding! We have ourselves a winner, ladies!)

I won't even go on with the rest, literally because I stopped there. That was all I needed. Research completed, I settled into the next task. What was my first truly wicked deed?

This was simple. I was a nice quiet girl in school, good grades, took care of my younger brothers while my mom worked her way through college at night, then slipped up and got pregnant, oops!
Got married, I'm from Kentucky, ya'll, :), had a son, continued with correspondence courses, kept a household, raised a baby, played the part......

Then I found out I had cancer, at age 19. All bets were off. My parents and aunt were my rocks. They took me to my treatments and stayed with me during the hard times. "he" faded into the walls. (no, I didn't accidentally forget to cap the h in he" So, when I went into remission, I got a job. *gasp* "he" was mortified. "his" heretofore, do as she was told childbride was developing opinions and a mind of her own. Egads! What was a guy to do??!!

Wasn't too long before I left. How deliciously wicked it felt. In the pure Roguish sense of the word. Thus began my wicked adventures. Which I will sort through and share with you.

Have I mentioned he was my first sexual experience? Tomorrow I may begin to explain how a wicked girl spends one summer making up for that sort of thing.....................