Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

Keep them doggies roaming...I'm on my way to Texas, folks. Tomorrow morning (early!) I catch a flight to Dallas to see my sister-in-law Lace. She's one of the twins (the other is Leather). Lace is very excited, we're going to do all the things she and I want that neither of our significant others will do. We're checking out Body Worlds for sure, and maybe going to the Medeaval Times.

I have been through Texas on a few occasions but I never stopped long enough to get a feel for the state. We'll see if I enjoy it, or if I end up messin' with it.

Wish me luck.

Frell! Frauk! and Sho-me-na!

Let me just say you men have absolutely no idea what embarrassment, humiliation, and inconvenience is, okay?

Yesterday I had to go to my lady doctor. I had the joy of sitting naked from the waist down for 30 minutes so my doctor could see me for 5. As you ladies know, the minute the doctor walks through the door the stir-ups get pulled out. Then I had to sit there and have a conversation with a man who's touching me in places only my husband gets to see. I'm so glad that I am not one of those women who gets skittish at the thought of another man getting all in my business or it would have been a hard day. He didn't like what he was feeling so we set up an ultrasound for today. I hop off the table, clean myself of the 2 gallons of gel the doc used, get dressed, and go back to work. I didn't even get a cigarette.

My appointment today was at 11am. At 9:45 I had to empty my bladder, then from 9:45 - 10am I had to chug 24oz of water. Why? Because that's what I was told to do. Peeing before filling back up makes no sense to me, but thems the doc's orders. So at 10:40 I waddle to my car and drive like a bat out of hell to get to my doctor. It hurt to move. I get to the office, sign in, and sit down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Every passing minute more fluid forces its way into my bladder. My whole abdomen feels like it is on fire. Every move I make sends waves of pain through my body and I'm afraid I will actually piss myself. Finally, at 11:15, the ultrasound lady calls me back. She slathers my whole abdomen with goo and proceeds to push and prod my painful belly until she finally gives me the green light to "go." Oh, I have to clean up and dress before I can do that, though. God forbid they have a toilet in the room where it would do some good. Ah, the sweet release of urination...

Oh, but I'm not done yet.

Nope, now we got to look around on the inside. Yes, guys, it's just as invasive as you can imagine (and I have to undress again). Remember that I was in pain to begin with, now she's poking at that pain with a 13 inch wand made of hard plastic. We're trying to talk about the weather and our jobs while ignoring the fact she's spelunking in my pooty-tang. More clean up, get dressed, and leave.

Tomorrow I get the results of today's search. Yep, I have to go back to my doctor's office again. Depending on what was found I may have to undress again. Three days in a row of my pooty-tang on display. If something is wrong then I get the pleasure of having people I don't know come by and take a look. Again.

I come back to work to hear one of the stupidest men on the planet make this observation, "Women have it easy because they don't have to have a prostate exam."

Dip-shit is hanging from the fifth floor balcony by his ankles. Given what I've had to go through recently a finger in the butt sounds like a vacation.

You Neanderthals out there who still believe women are the weaker sex need to bite me.

To Infinity and Beyond!

Have you ever wondered what the Christians would do if there were irrefutable proof that life existed on other planets?

Life on other planets would go a long way in proving evolution existed. It would smash the idea that we are alone in this great big universe (you know, being the image of God and all). It would put to end a lot of useless arguments. It would be a wonderful opportunity for people like me to shove the noses of people like that in their own hypocrisies. "Gee, I don't see aliens or the possibility of other life anywhere in the bible. Could you point that out to me, please?"

Oy!

I watch American Idol. I know, I know, but for some reason I keep tuning in even though this season is the most boring and least talented of all. But last night American Idol had a special going on, Idol Gives Back.

I am all for charity, and I applaud the fact that Idol Gives Back wants to help those in THIS country. They visited the poor and starving in the good ol' USA. Bravo, I'm so glad. It's about time we as a nation stopped giving all our aid to those in foreign countries and paid a little attention to our domestic needy.

But then they had to start the show with everyone over in Africa starving, living in shit-holes, and dying of diseases. Simon Cowell, Mr. Sensitive, ran (I mean booked) out of one of these huts in disgust. He was appalled by the conditions so he just left. The poor woman who was dying in bed looked so rejected and hurt. Oh, but the cameras didn't care about her feelings, they had to get a shot of Simon sitting in the SUV complaining about it and waiting for his driver to take him away.

Well, that's a super star for you.

I know this next statement is going to garner me a lot of shit, but I have to say it. Why can't we spend most of our relief funds on us, hmmmm? We are the richest country yet we leave those below the poverty line to fend for themselves. We want the good press and good feelings helping others gives us but we don't want to deal with the embarrassment and shame of admitting we have our own problems. We'll just sweep the American Indians under the rug and forget about them. Poor, starving, bloated, and sick children in our own country makes us feel bad, so we'll replace those images with poor, starving, bloated, and sick children from somewhere else. That makes us feel better.

Charity starts at home, we need to freaking remember that. We're sending boys home from Iraq missing limbs and dealing with mental issues, but they can't get health insurance or financial aid because we're "all tapped out."

We take sick, deformed, or mutilated children from foreign lands and fix their ills for FREE, but a welfare mom who has a kid with a cough can't get in to see a doctor for anything.

Americans are spending more and more of their paychecks for health insurance, but if they were illegal aliens they'd get it for free.

Kids from our schools are graduating without knowing how to read. They can't trust their teachers not to screw them, and now they have to worry about getting shot every day, but we applaud Oprah for building a brand new, state-of-the-art school in Africa. Yes, that makes perfect sense.

I don't mean to say others don't deserve the help, but c'mon! It's hard to toot your own horn when you have to dig it out of a pile of dead bodies.

That's Just Thong!

I am supporting a fashion faux pax today. I have on knit pants and underneath I am wearing underwear with the whole butt in them. You can see my panty line! Pants like these require a thong. Do I care?

No.

Why not? Because I don't wear thongs. I have an ass crack that like to eat thongs. It bunches up the tiny strip of material and twists it into a tight rope of thread able to support a construction crane. It is this metal-esque strangle hold I spend the rest of the day. By the time I get home and take the thong off it's been reduced to a patch of frayed string. Nope, I just can't do them.

So I'll live with the world being able to see my undies if it means I can sit down tomorrow without having to use an inflatable doughnut.

I Didn't Even Try

Almost Forgot

BABY'S BACK!!!!!
Hubby is finally home.

Female Troubles

I'm about to start my period (I know some of you are so happy to know that). As such, I am starving! You've seen "Ghostbusters?" You know that scene where the little green guy is attacking a room service cart full of goodies? Yeah, that's me. Only I'm not leaving a trail of green slime behind me.

You know, Issy and I were talking today and it would be a different world if the men had to deal with all of the upkeep we women have to do in order to keep our sex healthy. I'm sure you've seen the email thing about if men had babies Health Care would be vastly different. It's not just pregnancy. We ladies have to put up with more than men will ever know. Yeah, and we're the weaker sex. Let a man bleed out of his penis every month and see how the "crybaby" count skyrockets.

We, as a gender, are greatly taken advantage of. We get a yeast infection, cervical cancer, ovarian cyst, or any other number of coochie-aches and we still have to get up in the morning and go to work. Our male co-workers don't think anything having to do with the vagina is an issue. It's just something we women get to deal with. We supposed to just suck it up. Oh, but a man? If men dealt with what we deal with sick days would increase ten-fold. There would be telethons and drug research dedicated to helping those poor men with their delicate conditions. But not us. Oh no, we're women. We have to strive to be as good as men. Yeah, RIGHT!

You know, we have it all wrong. In order for this society to change MEN should strive to be more like US. Men should have to deal with family, work, and home as well as getting paid less, being disrespected by women, and being told to shut up if they dare complain. They should work all day and then come home to deal with the housework and children. Then they should go to work and be told how stupid they are for not being able to juggle it all. Then they should come home and be criticized by their wives for not keeping a perfect house and having dinner on the table. Yeah, let that happen to the "stronger" sex and see what happens.

Someone get me some chocolate!

Forgive Me....

I have a confession. Around my neck hangs a heavy, obtrusive thing. It clunks against my chest with every move I make. Sometimes I manage to forget about it, but then it only hurts twice as much when I'm reminded of it again. This weight has a name, and that name is Kyle Nudo.

Kyle is, well, was a friend of mine. A good one. A golden one. We met when we were babies and had a very passionate relationship. We broke up, obviously, but remained friends. He came to my wedding. As you can tell by his website Kyle is an actor. He lives in California. I visited him once and it was wonderful. Kyle has had some pretty hard trials but he is doing well for himself. I guess.

Kyle hasn't spoken to me in almost 3 years. Why? That's the thing, I really don't know. I sent him a late birthday card almost 3 years ago and that was the end. I'm terrible with dates, I forget lots of folks birthdays so it wasn't personal. I didn't hear from him. Around Christmas he usually came to town to visit. I didn't hear from him. Another year passed.

For his next birthday I sent him another birthday card (way early, I didn't want to miss it again) and a CD that I had made hoping it would prompt him to contact me. Here's where I messed up. You know how you hear a song and you think, "Wow, that says just what I want to say," then you listen to the song again much later and realize it's nothing at all what you thought? Instead of sending Kyle a CD of songs full of apology and regret, I think I sent him the most insulting CD he has ever received. Needless to say, we still haven't spoken.

So what do I do? I already have both feet in my mouth, what else can I do to mess this up? I could call, but....well.....

I think Kyle would be much better off if I remained part of his past. With Kyle I fucked up plenty. He's always known what he wanted to do with his life and I'm just starting to figure it all out. He's always had confidence, I have not. This made for an ugly adolescence and Kyle witnessed it all. He's smart enough to know when to cut bad parts of his life out and I think I became one. I can't blame him. I don't want to force my way into his life. I don't want to hurt him any more than I already have. I love this man, he is so important to me. I miss him more than I can properly convey, but perhaps he is better off without me.

So why do I carry him around then? Because you don't forget people like Kyle. You long for people like him. Things will remind me of him and I feel happiness and sadness at the same time. Followed quickly by confusion, hurt, longing, and a whole slew of questions. I don't know what I could have done! That's the thing that really gets me. Kyle is not an unfair person, he dumped me for a reason. If I knew what horrendous thing I did then I'd accept it and go on with my life. But I don't know.

So I type his name into Google every month and watch him from afar. I am incredibly proud of his successes. I wish him well. When it strikes it big I will go around telling people I knew him and they probably won't believe me. I always try to put a character like him in my writings, an homage to what was.

This silence is what is.

*SIGH*

I just don't know what to think about all this news coverage over the VA Tech shooting. I understand this nation is a bunch of blood-thirsty lookey-loos when it comes to crime, but this amount of coverage is obscene.

People loosing it and killing others is not new, people. Since Charles Whitman climbed that tower in Texas school shootings are not new. Large loss of life is not new, certainly not after 9/11. So why the media frenzy?

If I were a family member of one of the dead I would hate this country right now. I wouldn't be able to turn on a TV, a radio, surf the Internet, or hear a conversation without having my dead family member thrown in my face. How painful it must be to have a CONSTANT reminder, CONSTANT footage, and CONSTANT attention brought to my pain and grief. Enough is enough, let these people have some fucking privacy already.

And why this school, hmmm? Why these people? There are hundreds of people going to die today, will we see their faces and biography's splashed all over the news? What if a school shooting a occurs where only 4 people die, not news worthy enough? I guess your death is only tragic if you break some kind of record. I guess it's only a loss when NBC, ABC, CBS, and FOX say it's a loss.

And let me just remind everyone that the news people who are doing these specials and interviews don't give a rat's ass hair about any of these people. They are covering a story. When the next big story hits these journalists and reporters will drop VA Tech and run away as fast as they can. Watch, you'll be amazed at how quickly their sympathy dies. Don't for one minute think they've been affected by this shooting. To them it's just a step up or down on their career ladder.

I'm sick of it. Sick, sick, sick of it.

Happy 500!

This is my 500th post! I'm throwing you all a party, come in, come in. We have an open bar over there by the stripper poles (men and women will alternate through the evening), and don't forget to stop by the sushi bar. The band will begin in a bit.

Wow, 500. I never thought I'd have that much to say.

So in case you've been comatose you've heard about the shootings at VA Tech. Tragic, really. I feel for those who were involved. Not just because of the terrible circumstances of the shooting, but also because they were immediately raped by the media. My show "Thank God You're Here" was preempted so the channel could dedicate 2 hours to the shooting. They interviewed everyone and anyone that may have had anything or nothing to do with the shooting, the victims, the school, and the whole state of Virgina.

I ask why the big deal? I know it is the highest death toll in a school shooting in our history, but last night they didn't even know who the gunman was. How is that reporting the news? And making those involved relive every moment for an uncaring media was just disgusting.

The media does not care one iota about anyone in VA. All they care about are their ratings. We have to have more viewers than channel 2/4/5/11/30. Never mind if anyone wanted to see coverage of this tragedy they could turn to CNN. Oh no! We have to bluster and bluff our way through 2 hours of sketchy information, not giving a damn about the people we are using to do it.

I sympathize with those involved, but I live in Missouri. I know no one at VA Tech. I don't care about anyone at VA Tech. Sorry, I'm just being honest. Don't cancel my shows in Missouri, ok? I can wait for the local news, thanks. I've seen suffering all over this world that way. Why is a school collapsing in Russia any different than this? No 2-hour specials for that. No plastering of death photos all over the Internet for that. No nothing. A bunch of kids die in another country and our media doesn't give a shit.

I hate to say it but school shootings are not new news. Not here in the good ol' US of A where 4-year-olds can get Uzis. We've heard it, we've seen it, it's tragic, but it DOES NOT stop the country, ok? There will be another one pretty soon, so make sure your news vans are full of gas because you may have to drive cross country to rape those survivors.

Only the Lonely

My baby's gone! My husband is in Vegas having a good time and I am stuck here. Poop.

It's a work thing, I would never let my husband vacation in Vegas without me. While he was packing we talked about the things that went on in Vegas while we were on our honeymoon. On almost every corner of the Vegas Strip there are men who hand out these little hooker baseball cards. No joke, they are the size of a baseball card, they have a photo of the hooker and a number to call. The guys who hand these cards out are pros. You may deny the cards, but when you get to your hotel room you'll find about three stuffed in various pockets.

My husband teased that he would use the services of one of these ladies to get a blow job.
"Oh, Honey," I said, "If you're going to do that get something you can't get at home. Ask for anal."

I miss my man! I have a surprise waiting for him when he gets home. I'd tell you about it but knowing my luck Hubby will log in and read this blog while he's away. I don't want to ruin the surprise.

Let's Talk About Race

I just love hearing about the Rutgers women's b-ball team being on Oprah. Oh my precious Lord their hurt feelings have just ground their lives to a halt. Being called "nappy headed hos" has stripped them of their identity. It has erased every good thing in their lives. From here until they die they will forever harbor the anger, hurt, and outrage at being called a name. These poor, poor things! How will society ever make it up to them? Their futures have been ripped away from them, will they ever recover?

Yeah, so, um, when are the four Duke lacrosse players who were falsely accused of rape going to be on Oprah? 88 professors from their own university encouraged their students to prosecute these guys, the university turned their back on them, the coach of their team lost his job, and for one whole year they had to wear the label "rapist" across their foreheads even though they knew damn well they were innocent. The prosecutor who wanted to get elected hid information from the defense and would have sent four innocent guys to jail simply to further his own career. Think that hurt their feelings?

An entire community picketed their homes, spat on them, called them all kinds of names, and publicly shunned them. Think that hurt their feelings?

How about having to undergo countless humiliating medical tests and conduct interviews with an uncaring press who had already assumed their guilt. Think that might have hurt their feelings?

We'll never see the lacrosse players on Oprah getting the apologies THEY deserve. We'll never hear Jesse Jackson say he was wrong and apologize. The New Black Panther Party will never apologize. The 88 professors who were openly hostile toward these players will never apologize. The entire community and world that labeled them guilty based on no evidence will ever apologize. And why? Because those four boys are white.

Oh, that's right, I SAID IT! We white folks are the only one's who can be racist. If I walk into a McDonalds and get spit on by black people it will never make the news (and yes, it happened to me, so shut up). Oh my God Black, Latino, Mexican, Chinese, and Indian people can be as mean and nasty and racist to white people as they want and no one says a word, but let a white person get out of line and the bullshit goes all the way to the White House.

The idiots who presumed these white lacrosse players were guilty will never be held to the same standards as Don Imus. They won't be smeared in the press or made to retire their posts. They won't lose advertising money or their reputation. They will simply say, "Oopsy," and go on with their lives. And we, the white folks, will simply have to sit back and take it. Why? Because that's just how fucked up our society is. Hundreds of years ago we owned slaves and it's still being held against us.

I'm not apologizing for slavery because I didn't have anything to do with it. If a black, yellow, or red person treats me like shit I expect they receive the same treatment I would get if the roles were reversed. This is just like the n-word. Because I'm white I can't say it, but if I weren't white it would be just fine. Hell, if I were black I could use it every day. How is this fair?

We white folks haven't cornered the market on racism. In fact, I dare say that the other races in this country are a hell of a lot more racist than us honkies. They can get away with it. They are the "minority" so it's okay for them to pick on us. It's okay for them to ruin our lives but GOD FORBID a member of the "majority" should do anything that can be construed as racist.

Here is a parting thought for all of you. White isn't the majority anymore. Why? Because truly white people are dying out. Our races are mixing so much that in another 100 years we're all going to start looking the same. Our eyes will become a uniform shape, our skin will become a uniform color. The races will no longer be distinguishable. What are you going to do then? I guess you'll just have to accept that some people are just hateful assholes and get over it.

(Note: Oprah DID have the lacrosse players on her show when this whole thing started. She treated them with respect and was a very gracious host. However, I doubt we'll see them on her show again.)

The Debut

I have been envious of those writers able to write short-shorts. These are stories 50 words or less. I have always found it impossible to do this. Who can tell a story in 50 words? Honestly? But I wrote something tonight. Let me know what you think.
_____________________________
A man sits alone on his balcony at midnight. He is looking out into the desert, listening to an iPod. It’s his wife’s. She likes to make playlists for herself. He is listening to them tonight because he can’t sleep. Hot, naked except for a pair dirty boxers, he is finally beginning to understand his wife’s love of music.

Her “Sad” playlist is not full of sappy ballads of depression and sorrow. Oh, those were there, but peppered among the songs of strength and hope. “Riding” was a playlist of fast, hard song she listened to when they rode their bikes. He’d laughed when he heard Prodigy’s “Smack My Bitch Up.” “Horny” was pretty amusing. He hadn’t even heard some of those songs. His favorite was the “New” playlist. It held her favorite songs of the week. It was turning out to be an eclectic mix that made absolutely no sense. Some songs were complex, some lighthearted, and others raging, but all of them were beautiful.

Just like his wife.

The iPod was the only thing the police had been able to recover. The rest had burned up in the wreckage.

Just like his wife.

He’d found one of her hairs tucked inside its rubber case. He holds it between his fingers now and listens to the beat of her heart once again.

Let's Pull Our Heads Out of Our Asses, Shall We?

I'm sure you've heard Don Imus is getting a beat-down because he called the Rutger's women's basketball team a dirty name. It didn't start with an "N" if that's what you're thinking. Good Lord on a Wheat Thin what would have happened if he'd used the N-word!

I understand their anger. They have worked very hard to get where they are, and I'm sure it hasn't been a racial pic-nic to get there, plus they are role models for younger girls. However, I just read that the President of this country was asked to weigh in on Imus' punishment. Did he think it was enough? Did he want to add anything to it?

Now just wait one fucking minute! What the hell does the president have to do with this? Are we going to run to him with every minor insult and entertainment skirmish in this country? Doesn't he have enough to worry about, REAL worries, mind you, not some politically correct bullshit, without having to deal with the wittle hurt feewings of a basketball team?

There's that whole Iraq issue, in case you've forgotten about that. I don't know if you realize it but we as a country are totally fucked and it has nothing to do with racism. Racism is the least of our worries right now. We have the possibility of global extinction facing us, our prison systems make more criminals in order to make more money, our children are undereducated, our homeless are being beaten and murdered like dogs, the world thinks we're a bunch of assholes, and many leaders of other countries would like nothing better than to send us a nuclear Christmas.

Don Imus is an asshole. He's rude, ignorant, callous, and did I mention an asshole? No one is surprised by this except Rutgers. He should apologize. The media hell-storm he's in the middle of is deserved. He will likely never recover from this. He has been suspended for two weeks. He's going to meet with the team and they'll hash it out. No extra parties needed, thanks.

Issue OVER.
Move ON.

To Be In Love

The Goiter has shrank in size, but it has also developed a layer of dead skin. Like a snake it has been shedding all morning. This is disgusting. Good thing it's cold or I'd have to explain why I'm wearing a turtle neck. Watch, it's probably a brown recluse spider bite and I am the only freak in history with the immunity system to combat it. The poison has manifested on my neck. Any mere mortal would be dead by now.

Yeah, that's what I'm going to keep telling myself.

This morning my husband didn't have to rush off to work. He got up to let the dog out then came back to bed to lie next to me. Hubby doesn't like to snuggle. It's not his fault, it's mine. I'm so hot I cause him to sweat mere seconds after his skin comes in contact with mine. I guess he must have been cold this morning because he curled up right next to me and went back to sleep. It was so nice to have him pressed against me, all warm and cozy, and listen to him breathe. No matter what happens today I will have this warm, safe feeling to carry around with me. I love it.

Craters

I have a zit on the side of my neck that I have named "The Goiter." I thought it was a bug bite, it was so large, but it's not acting like a bug bite, it's acting like a zit. I have worn a scarf to work today just to keep it under wraps. If it doesn't hatch soon I may have to haul out the medical tools.

This Sunday hubby and I were driving to his dad's house. The road we take has a lot of potholes. Hubby swerved to miss a particularly big one. "Look, Hon, I'm your dad." My dad is a notorious pothole avoider. He will swerve into on-coming traffic to avoid a pothole. And he doesn't ease into it, either. Every single pothole seems to sneak up on him at the last minute. He swings the steering wheel violently to the left or right. If you are unlucky enough to be in the back seat you're getting out of that car with bruises (provided you're not laying on the highway somewhere surrounded by broken glass).

When a pothole manages to elude my father and sneaks under the car my dad reacts as one might to a land mine. He tenses up his shoulders, holds the wheel in a death grip, and lifts his butt off the car seat - like that is going to avoid annihilation if he happens to run over the only buried highway land mine in this country. When the car continues on it's way he lets out a big sigh. We got lucky that time. Next time we may not be.

Ohhh, Skunked Again

It is a very sad day for me today. I've just learned that Bob Clark has died. Who is Bob Clark? He directed "A Christmas Story," one of my favorite movies of all times. He also directed "Porky's," it's not so famous sequel, and many other films that I have enjoyed over the years.

He and his 22-year-old son were killed by a drunk driver.

This makes me very angry. What a complete waste. It's a stupid, useless way to die. To be cheated out of life because some stupid DUMBASS can't figure out to stay home and drink like everyone else. The guy who plowed into them didn't have a license and was 24 years old. How many people want to bet he isn't even a citizen? Oh, that's right, I said it. You see the name, didn't have a license, you tell me it's not a logical conclusion.

Angry, hurt, confused - and I'm just a fan. I can only imagine what his poor family is going through. My heart and prayers go out to them on this day and the horrible days to follow.

I'll be shooting my Red Rider BB gun into the sky for ya, Bob.

I Hate Storms

Today I went to lunch with my boss. It is storming in St. Louis. The drive to and from the restaurant wasn't that bad. There was a lot of thunder and lightening in between both trips but overall we were pretty luck.

Until we got back to work. Upon exiting his car a blinding white streak of lightening touched down nearly on top of us. This was followed by a grinding, roaring bout of thunder. It was so much that all the car alarms started going off. Have you ever been in a full parking garage with all the car alarms going off? It's spooky.

The big 'ol fat rain that followed came at us sideways. We had less than one small block to cover yet both of us were soaked once we finally got inside. Worse? It's cold rain, people, thank the Goddess I have a padded bra on!

I plan to go home and hide until this rain is over.

Hello All

I had a wonderful weekend. Issy and I went to Hermann, MO with the company of my husband. He was a real sweetheart and drove our tipsy butts around. I didn't think I had drank that much until I got home and laid down for just a few moments. In that time my husband went grocery shopping, came home, scared the dog into a barking fit, and Issy called me on the phone (which was clutched in my hot little hand). I heard none of it.

I might be a lush.

Sunday hubby and I went riding for the first time this year. It was perfect! Well, except for those bouts of hurricane force winds. I thought it was just warm enough, but hubby could have used a little more heat. Soon enough, I say to him. Soon enough.

Friday afternoon I went to pick up Chinese for my work force. Some asshole idiot cut me off and the #16 went flying through my car. It still smells like Kung Pow Chicken. So much so I had to have Chinese for lunch today. Now I'm over it.

Ta, y'all.