My mother called this morning.  Even though I have caller ID and could see it was her, I answered the phone anyway, in a silly voice and using an accent, naturally.  After her initial shock, and once she realized that I am not, in fact, psychic (ok, maybe a little), she made the strangest remark.  FINE-stranger than most of the re....well, no.  Let's see, how can I convey-oh fuck it!  She said, "Well, you certainly are happy this morning", in a suspicious and accusatory tone, adding, "what brought this on?"  Now why would you ask a happy person why they are happy?  First of all, I'm usually quite chipper, especially in the morning (it's the line of cocaine I snort off my illicit lover's ass, I'm sure of it).  My answer was, "I'm stupid.  Stupid people are always happy!"  Mom is not amused, but it was better than the first answer I had pop into my brain, which was, "Oh it must be the magical combination of heavy drinking and ecstasy".  See, I do have some self restraint!  Ok, I really don't, but is that a problem for anyone here?  And who's turn was it to bring the restraints? 

    I have noticed an alarming trend.  No, not skinny leg pants.  NO!  Not going out in an ass length dress and no panties either, or as I call it-  Wednesday night with Raven.  What I have noticed is that some people out there are just hell bent on being unhappy. Why?  You, in the sequined tassels and chaps with flames...can you tell me why?  What about you, second in from the left...in the barbed wire thong and wizard hat, do you know why?  I just don't understand why there are folks who wait for people to fuck them over just so they can ejaculate, "see, everyone fucks me over!".  Well, super genius, I believe that falls into the "be careful what you wish for" clause.   I really think these fine bottom feeders are disappointed when no one takes the bait and they set about digging around for reasons to thump thump the cross behind them.  Does that crown of thorns dig into your head?  And are crowns of thorns even in this season?

    As for me, I truly enjoy being happy!  Happy and laughing and spreading my legs.  Ummm, errrr...I mean joy, spreading my joy.  Or legs? 6 of one half dozen of another, in both cases, something is spread and joy is had.  That's not to say I never feel a little out of sorts.  I do.  But once I get off the naked chest of the pool boy, I ALWAYS feel better!  So when you're feeling a little down and out, and you think you're all alone,  YOU ARE, and most likely, I'm mocking you.  But just remember:

There's nothing an AK-47 and a rooftop won't cure!

   Now....who wants a lap dance?

 Let me know if  I say anything that offends you. 

                                       I might want to offend you again later.

    To alleviate any confusion, it seems I have, once again, deeply offended quite a few people.  There appear to be a lot of assumptions made in regards to who or what I am.  Just to avoid any future confusion, don't assume you know anything at all about me, and I won't automatically assume you live in an dark abyss, watch porn all day and never wear pants.  Clear.  Good.  Now fuck you very much and be on your way.  I have villages to plunder and innocents to frighten. 

     All the goings on around me have left me just a little out of sorts, so...to remedy that, I'm going to post my stellar answers to a little something something Bob sent me.  I made somewhat of an attempt to answer seriously, but that's really difficult for me and I don't want to strain or tug or pull *mind wandering to bad place again*....Anyway-go forth and read, I'll be in the shower dreaming of watching the sunset from the deck of a little beach cottage.   

1. What is your occupation?   Goddess/ Sex Therapist/Warrior/Trouser snake handler

2. What color are your socks right now?  I'm not wearing socks, at least not on my hands! 
3. What are you listening to right now?    Dig by Incubus
4. What was the last thing that you ate?  Waffles and veggie sausage

5. Can you drive a stick shift?   I can drive ANYTHING! Well, maybe not cattle, but then again, I never tried.

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?  dark dark purple 
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone?  McMayor of Crazyville
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you?  I'm in contract negotiations still, I'll let you know.
9. How old are you today?  Today I am 38, tomorrow I will be 4392 and 3/4.
10. Favorite drink?  For the family show, chai tea-hot or iced; for happy hour, Malibu rum, X-rated or Tequila off a big sexy man!
11. What is your favorite sport to watch?   Groveling
12. Have you ever dyed your hair?  Cosmetological Scientists never reveal their secrets!

13. Pets?   fiercely loyal chow/shepard/golden retriever mix named Scout; Roadkill, Gamera and Tank-the residents of Turtle Town; Swamp King and Ducky-the fire belly toads.
14. Favorite food? Depends on the craving du jour and the alignment of the planets.
15. Last movie you watched?   The Nightmare Before Christmas in 3-D 
16. Favorite Day of the year?  I'm pretty sure it hasn't happened yet, ask again in a few weeks. 
17. What do you do to vent anger?  Fuck, fight or make salsa, in no particular order.
18. What was your favorite toy as a child?  The neighborhood boys
19. What is your favorite season? the lazy warm days of Summer

20. Hugs or kisses?  Laying on the sand on my private beach...tangled around...yes..yes..please, don't stop...YES!  
21. Cherry or Blueberry?  As far as berries go, I prefer sweet California grown strawberries

22. Do you want your friends to email you back?  I think it will be faster than carrier pigeons
23. Who is most likely to respond?  Which one of you do I pay the most?  
24. Who is most likely not to respond?  Who's creepy sexual advances do I keep ignoring?
25. Living arrangements?  Harmonic Convergence
26. When was the last time you cried?  I can't tell you, it's a matter of national security.
27. What is on the floor of your closet?  The portal to hell cleverly hidden under erection inducing stiletto heels.

28. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to?  Luna Beam

29. Who is the friend you have had the shortest that you are sending this to?  I don't make a habit of having my short friends, but one of my taller ones....now that's a different story!
30. Favorite smell? Ocean breezes, orange blossoms and vanilla
31. What inspires you?  Sunshine, the ocean and unbridled passion
32. What are you afraid of?  see #26 

33. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?  Is this really something pertinent you want to know about me?  Can you not think of a better question? 
34. Favorite car? Corvette, or Batmobile, depends on who's in the Batsuit...  

35. Favorite dog breed?  Human male, although I'm not sure about the leg humping.  

36. Number of keys on your key ring? 3. Ask me how many are on my nipple rings though? And what do you think they open? 

37. How many years at your current job?  just about a dozen-seems no matter how badly I screw up I can't be fired.  Don't slaves have to be sold anyway?
38. Favorite day of the week? The ones ending in "Y" seem to treat me pretty well.  But then I have had a few end in Why...and those, not so much.  
39. How many states have you lived in? 23,627.  No, wait, that's the circumference of Venus...sorry.   

40. How many countries have you been to? only 3 so far, but I have a plan to remedy that very soon!
41. What is your favorite country to visit? I have not yet begun my thorough exploration of the planet.  I will post reports as I do though. Including, but not limited to: charts, graphs, pros and cons lists, mission statements, market trends, forecasts, hieroglyphics, and streaming video.

    Hey everyone, Raven here reporting from the wildfire ravaged Southern California.  First off, let me thank you all for your expressions of  care and concern.  I suppose, growing up in Southern California, wildfires, like earthquakes, are just a part of life.  Today it's already 82 degrees but we're expected to top out at 97 with the temperatures reaching a record breaking high of 99 by tomorrow.  Couple that with the delightful 3% humidity and gale force winds we're having and it's like we're living on Mars!  Not fun for an exotic island flower like myself. 

   The news is currently concentrating all of it's coverage on the San Diego and Malibu fires, seeing as apparently there is no one worthy of news coverage in Irvine (do they not know who I am?), which is where the fire closest to me is currently burning.  Since yesterday, Orange County has been battling 25=35 mile per hour winds with gusts being recorded as high as 90 miles an hour!  Everything around my house has seemingly been blowing horizontally for the last 24 hours.  The kid's schools have contacted the parents to let us know that all outdoor activities have been canceled and the kids will be kept inside due to air quality issues.  Hmmm, the sky is raining ash and an eerie shade of terra cotta...is that bad?  The hickory smoke smell everywhere is delightful too! 

    Unfortunately, arson is the cause of the fire that has called for voluntary evacuations as close as 3 miles from where I live.  What the hell is wrong with people?  The OC Fire Authorities reported that 3 small fires that were set resulted in this fire which has consumed 8,800 acres so far.  As of this morning, the Irvine fire was approximately 5% contained, but the winds are blowing too hard for air strikes and the fire is being completely fought by ground crews..  But never fear, my family and I aren't in direct danger so far...  We're just keeping the windows and doors closed and spending as little time as possible outside. 

    If anything changes, I'll do my best to let you all know.  Until then, please continue to send your positive energy our way!  At last count, there were 11 reported fires ravaging Southern California and The Governator has declared a State of Emergency for all 7 counties making up Southern California.   

    I think a raindance is in order...who wants to join me?

Distraught widow-"Well officer, I just don't know what happened *leaning forward slightly to distract officer with mountains majesty*.  I came home from church (ok, maybe that's stretching it)...I mean the children and I returned home from playing at the park and found him like this."

     Officer is staring at a dead man laying face down on the living room floor,  Halo 3 on the television screen, X-Box live headset still on his head, wireless controller up his ass, but the room smells refreshingly lemon-y.  He stares accusingly at the smoldering hot widow.  Widow knows how to work a room, this will be harder than he thought.

DW (her sultry voice hindering the officers ability to retain what she's telling him) "The floor looks very slippery, and he wasn't wearing his boots.  He almost always wears his boots *sniffling for effect as she looks despondently at the boots next to the couch*"

     The officer moves to the footstool behind the dead man and tries to visualize the fatal fall.  The man is flat on his face. It appears that he made no attempt to put his arms down to stop his fall.  Mysteriously, there is no blood.

DW-"So what do you think killed him? Maybe he had one of those light induced seizures the games warn you about?"

    Officer didn't think of that, damn, she's good.  His eyes sweep the room looking for any signs of foul play before saying, "Well ma'am, it just looks like an unfortunate accident, is there anyone we can call for you?"

DW-"No thank you officer, we'll, w-w-w-we'll....*choking on words*  we'll be fine."

     As she watches the officer walk down the drive way she suppress a little smirk, thinking to herself, "well all I did was lovingly set his wireless controller on the footstool where his ass print is permanently indented.  I mean sure, there was a t-shirt over it, but it's not like he NEVER checks what's on the seat before he sits down, right?  But I had no idea that the unexpected goosing would cause him to lurch forward and step onto the tile floor just beyond the area rug in which case he would most likely hit his head on the glass television screen.  And I swear that was lemon cleaner in the bottle when I mopped the floor, not lemon oil.  I would never make that mistake.....I'm not that careless.

    Have you ever had one of those days that is just so utterly amazing you want to stand at the highest point you can find and tell the entire world about it?  I have had one of those days!!  I suppose it started last night, I went to bed singing and happy, slept peacefully and woke up singing and happy!  Anyone ready to slap me yet?  No? Then I'll continue.  This morning, after walking my daughter to school, my son and I headed off to the middle school and my first duty this year as a music parent chaperone.  Where did we go?  I'm getting to that, keep your panties on...we went up to the House of Blues in Anaheim to see the "Blues School House" performance.  More questions? How lucky are you that today, unlike many other days in my life, I have answers!!

    The "Blues School House" is a presentation of American History through music.  Keeping in mind that not everyone has subjected their children since they were zygotes to music in all it's many styles and forms and knowing that much of the popular music today is computer generated synthesized crap being lip synched badly to by some marketing team's half wit pop stars, I was interested to see how the students not sharing my DNA markers would react. Our musical history lesson began in the 1500's in Africa as people were taken from their families and homes forcibly and oftentimes violently and boarded on to ships bound for America.  Many slaves were denied even the basic right of interaction with others humans, thus the spiritual was born as a form of expression and a way to retain the history.  From there, accompanied by a haunting spoken narrative from the male and female singers, we learned how the abolition of slavery lead to gospel, a word which means: good news.  The band's rendition of "This little heart of mine" put a smile on nearly everyone's face as many of us were on our feet singing and dancing along.  Many of the stories that were told brought students, teachers and chaperones alike to tears, just as easily as many of the stories made you want to raise your voice to the sky and sing from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.  Tracing American history through it's music had to be quite possibly the most enlightening and informative, not to forget moving and yet entertaining ways I have ever spent 2 hours with my clothes on. And... I got to share this experience with my son, 25 volunteer parents, 3 instructors and 125 sixth grade music students.  Hearing everything from Mississippi Delta blues to jazz, rock and roll to Motown, Jimmy Hendrix to George Clinton and the P-Funk Allstars, and old school rap to, of all things, Green Day, plus everything in between all the while covering every era in American history along the way made you realize how deeply music was affected by societal and historic events and issues.  My throat can barely contain the joy bubbling over when I attempt to answer the question, "So, how was the field trip today?".  Not caring one whit how cliche I might sound, as happy as I was when I awoke this morning, it doesn't compare to how truly happy I am to be alive right now!!

     Now, let me tell you a little more about our experience, and yes, there's more!  I'm all a twitter still, so if I seem a little scattered, chalk it up to unbridled glee. Ok?  So this band, "Blues School House" was made up of a guitarist, a bass player, a male and female singer and one amazingly talented drummer from, of all places, Colorado.  Do they put something in the water there or what?   We started with a bone chilling spiritual, "Wade in the Water", the female singer possessing possibly the most powerful, soulful, and versatile voices I have heard in my life.  She had a richness to her voice that made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and silent tears spill down my cheeks while she sang a centuries old spiritual.  And her range *sigh*...she sang the shit out of each and every note that resonated from her, and I'm pretty sure at one point, I saw the walls shake!  The male lead complimented her well as he sang many of the songs we were treated to today.  His voice was grittier and more raw than hers, and well, he had to sing next to her.  Poor guy.  The lead guitarist played every style of music and many types of guitars with an equal and just as deep level of skill; taking us from early gospel, through jazz, big band, rock and roll, soul, funk, r&b, hip hop, rap, heavy metal and almost everything you could imagine. The bassist made me want to run home and grab my own bass guitar, plucking at it until I mustered just one tenth of his skill.  The bass lines could often be felt through the wooden railings that kept us dancing fools from toppling over into the lower level.  And the drummer, after introducing the students to the concept of "poly-rhythmic music", proved to be the indisputable backbone of the band.  

     As the show went on, there were several times when the entire venue fell silent, enraptured by the story being told, only to rise to their feet and join their voices with the ones on stage in a raucous celebration of America's history through it's music.  And, as if I haven't irritated you enough with my uncharacteristic fawning, while I was shaking my magnificent ass to the band's rendition of Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On", I happened to look up towards the ceiling.  Hanging from the rafters in the center of the House of Blues was a large shield that read, "Unity through Diversity-who do you love-We are One", what a great message.  But, that wasn't all.  As the show came to a close and once the applause died down, the woman singer left us all with some mighty powerful words. She said, "Always remember, no matter what you do or where you go, the one thing no one can take from you is your one true voice.  Use it." 

     I feel the need...THE NEED FOR SPEED!!   As you all are painfully aware at this point, I love anything that goes fast (that says goes fast, not cums fast!).   Race cars, motorcycles, speed boats, and...and my all time favorite...oh I get wet just thinking about it...FIGHTER JETS!!  How did I get some relief?  I trekked down to MCAS Miramar yesterday to partake of the air show. Nothing like the scream of an F-18 ripping through the sky behind you to get your privates standing at attention!  Well maybe getting to sit naked on the pilot's lap as he turned and burned, did I say that out loud?  Why that's just naughty talk, someone should spank me.  I said, SOMEONE SHOULD SPANK ME!!!  Is this thing on?

     It's not just the sound of the jets that whips me into a frenzy, it's the whole sensation of the ground shaking beneath my feet, the vibrations moving up my entire body, making the skin tingle and my nipples strain against the fabric of my shirt until my teeth are rattling in my skull and a moan catches in my throat as I raise my arms to the sky, shudder and shout, "OOOHHHH YEAHHHHHHHH!!"  Whew...give me a minute, I need to splash some cool water on my face...

    The weather was co-operative down in San Diego after the yuck and rain we had on Saturday.  We had enough sun to take the nipple factor  (I wonder how many more times I can say nipple?) down a notch but it was still breezy and cool.  I was on a military base surrounded by....MEN (what woman doesn't want to spend her Sunday like that?)...and I did take the family, but they are well aware of my, shall we say, enthusiasm.  While waiting in line to be searched by the fresh faced young marines, a military vehicle pulled up alongside us and as if reading my thoughts, the doors slid open and men piled out.  My son, being a fruitcake of my loins, looked at me with a wicked grin and said, "Mama, are those the men you ordered?".  The spouse laughed as he puffed himself up to his full 6'4" then smiled knowingly after he confirmed he was taller than all of them (ok, I'm only 5'3", but I like my men tall).  Does that warrant a spanking as well?  Anyone?  No?  FINE!

   Despite all the moaning, ogling and being ogled, nipple stiffening, plane exploring and pilot watching, I did manage to take a whole heap of pictures!  There were harriers, and bombers, and The Thunderbirds-OH MY!  We saw some bi-planes and other aircraft as well, but I really only like the jets.  Now go check them out, but I'm pretty sure there are no visible nipples (did I meet my quota?).

    What could be better than spending a few hours recharging your batteries down at the beach then taking your sun kissed skin and stopping for lunch at one of those great hole in the wall local Mexican joints?  Ok, having someone show up with mojitos and dirty jokes to share...but what else?  How about going over to Condom Revolution (next door to the Mexican joint) and coming home with "Cupid's Couch"!?!  I thought about picking up the couch first, but it seems that the naughty shops don't open until 11am.  It's probably best since I  would have been hard pressed (which I was indeed when arriving home with aforementioned chair) not to want to lay on my love lounge at the beach, but there are warnings in several languages stating that it's not to be used as a flotation device nor is it a toy.  Really?  Not a toy you say?  Explain this to me will you?

     How can a rather large piece of high density vinyl furniture who's sole purpose is to facilitate fucking and/or being fucked twelve ways to Sunday not be considered a toy?  What else would you call it?  There are warning labels and instructions all over the box and in the handy flyer that I found inside the box.  Some of the things that really gave me a good laugh were:

     "Limitless position potential!" (I, Raven Lunatic, do solemnly swear to give it my best effort to make this true!)

     "The most fun you can have with your clothes off" (since it can't be used as a flotation device, I believe this may not be entirely true)

     "How you use your couch is entirely up to you (whew!).  As with all sexual activities, you must be absolutely sure that you and your partner both evaluate the risks associated with your intended actions"  (I read this aloud as the spouse was inflating the fucking chair, I didn't make it through without laughing and asking if he had any objections to having our session videotaped for our protection and if he would please sign the waiver I had drawn up)  Laughter really is a powerful aphrodisiac you know, but then so is being married to me!

     "Intended for consenting adult novelty use only" Dammit!! Then what the hell are those handle thingys for anyway?  And what about that plastic loop on one end? Is that not for tethering the love slave?  Is getting your partner liquored up the same thing as getting consent? If I am making porn and distributing it for financial gain, is that still novelty use?  So many loopholes in this one.

     "The combined weight of users should not exceed 200kg"  (YIKES!!)  Now that would be a sight!

     "Evaluate your intended actions with the couch before using"  Can you just picture it? I'm whipping out a play book and showing the hubby, "Ok big man...I'm gonna kick open the door wearing nothing but a leather g-string and tassels...you'll be on the couch in a north-northwest facing position...when I crack the whip, prepare to be ridden like a bounty bull!"  Is that what they mean? 

    Despite all the frivolity and raucous laughter going on, "cupid's couch" did survive it's christening, and so did the consenting adults using it strictly for novelty use!  Later today, I even lounged on it while talking to my mom on the phone. It somehow made the conversation less irritating.  Best of all, I can even use my fucking chair alone!  Hands up go Wheeeee!!! 

     It's a fucking chair, in every sense of the word!

   A co-mingling of the crashing waves and the low growl of Breaking Benjamin's lead singer are the only sounds I hear right now.  With the sun warming my bare shoulders, I sit facing the ocean and smiling.  Tonight, in the stillness of my quiet house, the perpetually asked question, "What did you do today?" will have another magnificent answer.  It hardly seems fair that I am currently basking in the splendor that is Autumn in California while so many are indoors toiling away at work.  But then again, I live in Southern California, for reasons I'm sure no one questions on a day like today.  I am in Dana Point right now, sitting atop the breakwater that separates the marina from the Pacific Ocean.  It's breathtaking!

   Sitting next to me is a man I would guess is in his early 50's. His salt and peppered sensible business man's haircut is slicked down, impervious to the ocean breezes that are not so gently twisting my tumble of curls into dreadlocks.  The man has brought his lunch to the beach to indulge in what I'm pretty sure is a much needed break in the workday.  I grin slyly when I notice his baseball patterned neck tie, the sly grin working into a full blown smile when I happen upon his black leather motorcycle boots peeking from beneath his neatly pressed slacks.  At this point, I can't imagine what he must think of the brazen woman next to him appearing to look him up and down.  I catch his gaze and smile right at him.  If he only knew that with his brilliant decision to dine seaside, he'd be immortalized in my mysterious green notebook. 

     Momentarily the peace is punctuated with the awe filled voices and exuberant smiles of an elementary school field trip to the Ocean Institute.  After filing off the bus, the children clamored to the rocks and proceeded to stand too close to the edge for the chaperone's taste.  "BOYS", he bellowed, "You are making me VERY nervous".  His concern was met with a chorus of giggles and groans as the children begrudgingly took a big step backwards. 

     Scattered like seabirds on the breakwater is a group of seniors setting up their easels and accoutrements for their plein aire painting class.  What a great location for an art class. My camera sits on the worn wooden table in front of me as I patiently await the departure of the children who's turn it is to stand perched precariously on the slippery rocks and capture their own memories.  The biker businessman's cell phone rang, sending him the clear message that reality calls.  A five minute warning issued to the school children is met with the same groans as earlier, minus the giggles. 

     Once again the sound of the waves fills the air as the children head into the building to learn about the ocean and it's inhabitants.  The group of boys that were just in front of me left their offering to the sea goddess in the form of a small ring of stones arranged atop a flat rock.  The sun is directly above me as noon rolls around, and I sit, unheeding the opinions of the medical field stating that the sun is bad for us.  My head is not covered with the recommended wide brimmed hat and I am not slathered head to toe in SPF 4000 sunscreen.  This may not seem to be the wisest choice to some, but being half Filipino, I really don't sunburn plus I'm solar powered.  Fairly certain that the 3 hours I will spend at the beach today will not put me on the fast track to Melanomaville, I take my turn climbing the rocks to capture photographic evidence that I do, in fact, live in paradise. 

   Now if you'll excuse me, one of the artists has generously offered to watch my bag so I can put my feet, and knowing me-well up to my thighs, in the water.  See you back at home!

PS-I posted the photos in a new album entitled, "My World"...check them out when you get a chance.

     Now the men are scared, or nervously looking over their shoulder to see if anyone can see what they are reading.  Just to make this more comfortable for the menfolk, imagine I'm laying on my belly in the center of my big bed and wearing just a pair of hot pants and a tight tank top and writing a naughty story..  (Ok ladies, now that the men are making a concentrated effort not to drool on their keyboards go grab the TV remote and watch what you want!)

    Oh crap, I lost my train of thought.  Hold on, let me flash the conductor and see if he will swing back around.  There we go.  Since I am a generous and giving person by nature. Man, I couldn't even get that all typed out without giggling...and I was told a few weeks ago, while allegedly giggling on the phone with a friend (all the while maintaining that I DO NOT giggle), that if I'm giggling, there had better be stiff nipples too. I guess he really likes the sound of my giggle. Wait, do you think he meant my nipples? *giggling to see if my.....* ooh, will you look at that.   I came in here to do something, what was it?  Oh yes, tell you about that time of the month again.

    As some of you might know, and the rest of you frankly don't give a porcupine's prick about, I have the esteemed dishonor of being a member of the elementary school's Executed Bored.  I never get that right so let's move on, shall we?  On the first Tuesday of each month we are required to attend an ass-numbingly dull meeting.  This is my second year in this position, and let me tell you, it's not nearly as fun as many of the other positions I have attempted.  Today's meeting was a particularly dull meeting and about 1.9 minutes in, I began finding ways in which I could amuse myself that didn't involve frontal nudity, gratuitous sex, or a brass pole and some 6"  heeled acrylic shoes.  After spending an additional 20 or so minutes thinking about gratuitous nudity, frontal sex, and activities that involve sliding up and down a pole for $200 Alex,  I resumed my plotting and daydreaming. Is it still classified as a dream when explosions and flying chairs are involved? Anyone?

    Over the course of the next 2 hours, I entertained the idea of leaping out of my seat at a very inopportune time and performing an interpretive dance conveying my displeasure with the way this meeting is not progressing; including, but not limited to the use of jazz hands, hair flips, cartwheels and the obligatory bumping and grinding.  When the cell phone belonging to the woman sitting next to me rang for the 8 sextillionth time, I leaned over and asked her if it was her boyfriend, when she scowled at me and said no, I asked her if it was mine.  I responded to the statement, " I have a question for you" with, " I didn't do it" before the question was asked thusly ending what could have been a painful conversation about seemingly nothing.  While the mother cluckers were arguing about the district's suggestion that all food related treats for birthdays be banned in the classrooms, I looked around the room and made the nightmare inducing discovery that most of the board members have more chins than a Chinese phone book.  As Madam President listed the changes to the school calendar, I took notes with my penis pen then I proceeded to place the tip in my mouth and nibble it while waiting to take more notes.  Finally, after either cracking up or blatantly offending, well, everyone.  The meeting ended.  I was out that door so fast I think flames were shooting out of my ass.  Yeah, that fast!  Can't wait for next month!