Ahh...Fuck It

I was avoiding this post, if only to stop myself from another meandering fuckall full of bitching and complaining. I hurt my hip/lower back and I'm not sure how I hurt myself and then I rolled over in bed (by myself) and it hurt much worse. Enough to send to me both a chiropractor and urgent care. It hurts to sit. Standing is passable, lying down is fabulous when in a certain position and with the additional benefit of sleep. When I wake from a glorious night of sleep I feel fanfuckingtastic and then I get up and walk about and OUCH I hurt. Not a new story, but a new-to-me story. One with different pains and gloominess. I hate pain.

On a happy note, on May 12th Teddy Bear and I had "The Party", which is to say we had a reception of sorts without calling it a reception. Friends gathered and talked and drank and there was a cake minus the horror of wheat and all were satisfied at the end. Pictures might be posted if I stop drinking long enough to post them, as currently I am tired of hurting and am chock full of tasty wines and WOW I cannot fucking type whilst under the influence. I still have my handy vicodin prescription from the nice urgent care lady with the cool shoes but I prefer to save the vicodin for the time where I have to function. Makes perfect sense, right?

So, my life apart from my body is wonderful. Married life is sweet and satisfying, if not as penis-filled as I would like. One of many downfalls of the hurtingness is the terror of the penis which comes with the scary thrusting and such TMI. Teddy Bear and I are well in spirit if not in body. The Chicken is finishing out grade five and all is well on the friendship department. Chicken has been making friends at an astounding rate, somewhat paralleled by my consumption of alcohol. Ever try meeting a new friend's mom whilst celebrating your new marriage with lots of good friends and alcohol? Plus being SO convincing that said mom let her son spend the night in my care? Crazy, I tell you. So, Chicken is befriended by many and happily playing in the neighborhood every day after school while I sulk and wish I had a job or something to keep me occupied.

Okay, tired now. Buzz somewhat killed by the fiece typing and re-typing of post and I must go wander and try to understand why I am watching a repeat of House right now. Fuck!

If You Are Wondering...

Essie wanted to know where to look for new posts and juicy, succulent tid-bits of nekkidness. Essentially, this blog is where to be for the latest and greatest of Sam's Stories. The other blog is 99.5% designed to be a launching pad for other people's new templates. The only time I will post a "Story" there is when my Sam's Stories server is down and it's a REALLY important story. Like Half-Nekkid Thursday is here and I have the bestest picture of Dude to post and MY SERVER HATES ME.

As a newlywed with marital duties to perform night and day, I haven't posted much lately, but tomorrow I shall strive to post meaningful sentences on the JOY of SEX and Golden Spoon gift certificates. Golden Spoon is a fabulous frozen yogurt establishment with MANY gluten-free flavors and this just in-a gift card from Golden Spoon is a proper way to say "Congrats on your wedding". Did you know that? Because I was shocked and surprised to open a beautiful card from my mother with not one, not TWO but THREE Golden Spoon gift cards (one for myself, Teddy Bear and Chicken) in the stunning amount of

Five dollars each!!!

Holy shitstorm, batman! Okay, I guess I already spilled the magical beans of my Golden Spoon story, but aren't you glad? Because I'm so happy to have that off my chest. The weight of those gift cards, it is a heavy burden. Tomorrow I shall eat frozen yogurt and think to myself "Damn, this is why I got married. Frozen yogurt. The joy."

You May Call Me Mrs.

Mr. & Mrs. Teddy Bear

Getting hitched at 1:30pm PST.
Wish me luck.

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Also, I need some reader feedback please & thank you:

Have you (in the female sense of YOU) ever given a urine sample at the doctor's office without pissing all over one or more hands? Because FUCK ME if I didn't piss all over my hand today. And it sucked. A lot.

Fuck It. I Lied.

Yeah...so um well there ya have it. I thought I was going to start posting again and being functional and full of vigor and that certainly didn't happen. I'm hoping after having a decent day today, and partially decent day yesterday that I am going to feel better-ish for a while. You see, this whole global warming thing that doesn't exist and the weather is perfectly normal and la la la? My body says FUCK YOU George W. Bush, because the 90 degree one day and cold, miserable rain the next is not normal, even by California standards. The weather is fucked and therefore my body is also fucked. Not in the fun, wow there's a penis inside me way, but in the I'm still in bed way. Alone, in the middle of the afternoon, in pain. Then there's the migraines that are slamming my ass even more frequently than usual. Migraines mean I cannot blog, because I can't fucking READ the computer screen. And yes, I actually read what I write. Sometimes. So, enjoying the bitch fest yet? How about something mildly amusing? With pictures? And furry animals? Come on, you know you want it!

Here's Reina:See the line the red arrow is pointing to? That's where the great room ends and the hallway begins in our new home. It also marks the line that the dogs cannot cross. There used to be a gate at the line, but the dogs (Fred and Rusty) are now trained not to cross the line. So where does Reina like to hang out? Right at the line. Occasionally she will saunter into the great room just to prove that she IS the queen of the world. The dogs want to touch her and sniff her and lick her but are generally fucking TERRIFIED of Reina. She spits and hisses, their tails go between their legs. They are cowardly dogs. Meet Fred and Rusty:

Rusty is a Rhodesian Ridgeback and Fred is a Bernese Mountain Dog. For those of you that are not familiar with these breeds, let's just say that they are HUGE. Fred and Rusty are both just over a year old, and they probably weigh 100lbs each. Rhodesian Ridgebacks are historically lion hunters. Lions, people. And this lion hunter? Scared of Reina. Reina the fierce kitten. My favorite pastime of late has been putting Reina on the hardwood floor about six feet from the "line" on her side, and sliding her towards the line as fast as I can. Her body crosses the line and the dogs scramble for cover. It really never gets old. I'll video it one of these days and post it for your enjoyment.

Oh, and one other small bit of news? Teddy Bear and I set a date for the wedding. May 12, 2007.

Note: Anna, keep yer knickers on, I will recover from moving madness and you WILL see me. Whether you like it or not.