tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59216297091163507402024-03-05T18:02:48.206-05:00Z- RatedNot appropriate for minors (but miners are okay), prudes, government agents and/or ANYONE RELATED TO ME.Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-25959298135846031542008-08-23T21:50:00.003-04:002008-12-09T13:27:51.112-05:00<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>101 Things You’ve Always Wanted to Know About Me</strong> </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">1. I’m grouchy in the morning.<br /><br />2. I’m often grouchy in the afternoon.<br /><br />3. I’m seldom grouchy in the evening, unless someone persists in irritating me.<br /><br />4. I dislike the color blue, probably because my little sister Julie had blue eyes and everyone was always saying how pretty she was, and I had brown eyes and no one ever said how pretty I was.<br /><br />5. Now I have green eyes and I’m very pretty.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"></span> </div><div align="left"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO8XER-P7RYiOfLzVb3mJ0mskftXkq8n4Oc38JxtE68nsodO6806HF8TRp2Pqs2ZWEhlIk6vkJTGH2Dt_A3gvxaAvkMe7nVyuxUr0n_ZxPMZ9tm__41IGj4VngHoiIqRrZIVAH4mCBAI/s1600-h/redhead.jpg"></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">6. My favorite color is red-orange and I have red-orange hair. It is very pretty.<br /><br />7. When I was a little girl, my dad said that I ran like a turkey. Is that good or bad?.<br /><br />8. Now I run like a gazelle. Okay, maybe a gazelle with three legs…<br /><br />9. When I was sixteen, my dad said that I played the piano like I had lint in my navel. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.<br /><br />10. Now my navel is lint-free.<br /><br />11. I lived in foster homes, off and on, from age 4 to 9. It sucked.<br /><br />12. My mother was married five times. She was divorced once. That was before record keeping was computerized.<br /><br />13. I have been married twice and divorced once, but not in that order.<br /><br />14. I’ve changed my first name three times. I like the final one a lot and will stick with it. It starts with a “Z,” which is my favorite letter.<br /><br />15. When I was 13 I attempted to throw a rotten watermelon from a moving car onto the steps of my junior high school, but it landed on the curb. Stupid watermelon.<br /><br />16. When I was 14, I got really, really drunk on straight whiskey and puked my guts out for the next several hours. That was a long time ago and hasn’t happened since. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid…or something like that.<br /><br />17. I went to four different schools in fourth grade. That sucked.<br /><br />18. My mother said that I was “a selfish brat,” just because I re-possessed the birthday gift that I had just given to my little sister. SHE WASN’T USING IT CORRECTLY, DARN IT!!<br /><br />19. Actually, I really was a selfish brat. I still am. GET AWAY FROM MY CHOCOLATE! </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><div align="left"><br />20. I am an Atheist, goddamn it!<br /><br />21. I pretend to be tolerant of religious nuts, but I think they’re stupid.<br /><br />22. I think religious nuts should mind their own fucking business and stop trying to legislate morality.<br /><br />23. I never use profanity except when it is warranted.<br /><br />24. When I was 16, I necked with my high school History teacher. It was all his fault. He was too handsome.<br /><br />25. When I was 26, I necked with my mother’s fourth husband. He was a good kisser, but a bad husband.<br /><br />26. I have shoplifted. Twice. When I was 14, I stole a wallet. When I was 25, poor and powerless, I walked out of the store with a shiny, new extension cord. Really!<br /><br />27. When I was 29, I went to a Halloween party, dressed as a tube of Crest toothpaste. My breath was minty fresh.<br /><br />28. I know life isn’t fair, but why not? It’s not fair!<br /><br />29. I would like to impose a worldwide, absolute law that would require a minimum age of 50 for any and all members of any and all military or pseudo-military groups. I’m pretty sure that would put the brakes on war. </div><div align="left"><br />30.I do not wish to listen to any popular music produced after 1985. It is not music.<br /><br />31. I realize that I sound like my father when I say that.<br /><br />32. The only sport I was ever good at is Poker. Make that “the only sport I didn’t SUCK AT was Poker.”<br /><br />33. Yes, I do realize that I have 69 more things to come up with. Quit nagging me!<br /><br />34. 69 is my favorite number.<br /><br />35. It’s difficult to concentrate when I’m thinking of it, however. </div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheAnrj3_M1iNzfkO8TJzqoXjcRShDaFQTLijfDied7ybMuC0jHDCZ5IIA8PKEIqZxT8tXmqIiJLjwxDf-edq5cAFurjNc7aUv5h86hl8K5GRel4Il1dha4TFScZBSNixQ-bzRMzfQDckQ/s1600-h/CHIMP.jpg"></a><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">36. Chimpanzees are my favorite animals, but I wouldn’t want to be one.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><div align="left"><br />37. I like to dance to salsa music, especially when it’s hot and humid and the sweat pours down all my crevices. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">38. Not that I have any more crevices than the next guy.<br /><br />39. I lived in a boxcar for the first year of my life.<br /><br />40. I liked it there, because I had no pesky little sisters yet.<br /><br />41. I like to look at big, muscley men, but I don't want them to shave their bodies. 42. I went to a lowbrow Chippendale-style performance once. Those guys were so incredibly sexy; I was ready to tear their tiny little briefs right off of them! All of the women in the audience were hootin’ and hollerin’. </div><div align="left"><br />43. I wish I had a pair of ruby slippers.<br /><br />44. I wish I could make myself invisible, at will. Oh...wait! You can't see me, can you?<br /><br />45. I wish I were fluent in Spanish. </div><div align="left"><br />46. I’m glad I’m not a cannibal. </div><div align="left"><br />47. I’m glad I’m not pregnant. </div><div align="left"><br />48. I’m glad I’m almost half-done with this list. </div><div align="left"><br />49. When I was 29, I went white-water rafting on the Green River and our raft ran straight into a huge rock in the middle of the stream and I didn’t fall out of the raft, which was a good thing, because I can’t swim. </div><div align="left"><br />50. Once upon a time, I was nude-sunbathing on a small, rocky island in Lake Powell, thinking I was all alone, when a motor boat with several men came putt-putting up next to me. I just rolled over on my stomach and closed my eyes, willing them to go away. They did, eventually.</div><div align="left"><br />51. And then there was the time when I chased a bunch of armed hunters off of our farm, with nothing but my anger and a lot of profanity.</div><div align="left"><br />52. Two years ago I was in Italy, and I found my own way from Assisi t</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZqggURHNKW7xcqffi1LgYI4PmLMyzjRrIRu51TwapsWz0vvwMAGsfVa9uGDsJxxbCOTEOPzP0tE44lY8VKtafRxQUXgq3f6Qeh8FVYh5TSpIAWNSQDPdN8F2bQ0IIcqfIV5lYgvT_I0/s1600-h/GONDELIER.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"> </span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">o the Tiemplo di Minerva, using only my steely-eyed determination and 12 words of Italian.<br /><br />53. I wish I were fluent in Italian.<br /><br />54. I wish I could make love to one of the gondoliers in Venice.<br /><br />55. I wish I could make love to that glassblower in the glass factory I visited in Murano. He was a big, muscley man.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><br />56. I was proud of myself when I made it to the top of Angel’s Landing, in Zion National Park, in Utah, even though I was certain I would not live to include it in this list.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><div align="left"><br />57. Last year, I forded a wild stream in Kauai, holding onto a rope that was entirely inadequate and I would have been swept over the falls if a big, muscley surfer-dude had not come to my rescue. </div><div align="left"><br />58. I almost always wear underwear when I’m in public. </div><div align="left"><br />59. haven’t gone hang-gliding yet. I’m waiting until the doctor tells me I have only six months to live. </div><div align="left"><br />60. I fucked boyfriend du jour in a graveyard once. Once was enough. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kwlHDIvnP4kIq0KB0aGuyPgJbAj8i3Mocbwjzs07GlDiygaYzthsvwoFV1s_lyqmUZ0w5RQNUosF55fB4wHms8mTBEx03vGAbACK06KhMIexbMrD9BFSBVeaZgYuWW58wjQkbjXQfWk/s1600-h/graveyard.jpg"></a></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">61. I tried to commit suicide once, but it didn’t work. </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><div align="left"><br />62. Now I take Zoloft and I love being alive. </div><div align="left"><br />63. I am covered with tatoos. </div><div align="left"><br />64. When I was 15 I went to a hypnotist and he tried to hypnotize me, but it wasn’t working, and I told him it wasn’t working and he got mad at me, so I pretended it was working, and he was so thrilled with his success that he wanted me to be his subject in a demonstration he was going to give.<br /><br />65. I had an uncle who was a dirty, fucking, pedophile creep and I hope he burns and rots in hell. </div><div align="left"><br />66. Not that I hold any grudges or anything.</div><div align="left"><br />67. I get annoyed with adults who don’t know the difference between “their,” “they’re,” and “there.” </div><div align="left"><br />68. I get annoyed with adults who think that you make a plural by adding apostrophe s to a noun. e.g. “I have two husband’s.” Didn’t you go to school, you pitiful excuse for a human being? </div><div align="left"><br />69. I get annoyed with everyone and anyone who starts a sentence with the word “Me,” as in “Me and Mike were gittin’ it on!” It’s “Mike and I,” motherfuckers! </div><div align="left"><br />70. Sometimes, I get annoyed with myself for being so intolerant, but mostly I’m okay with it.<br /><br />71. I ate frog legs once, just to be able to say I had done it. It was nasty. I felt so guilty. Poor little frogs. As if they don’t have enough problems, with loss of habitat and all. </div><div align="left"><br />72. I tried escargot too. I brushed my teeth about six times afterwards.<br /><br />73. Talk about guilt! For the first thirty years of my life, I felt guilty about masturbating. Now it’s all good. It has been helpful to read blogs about the shame-free way that men relate tales of their solo escapades. </div><div align="left"><br />74. I have never faked an orgasm. And if you believe that, you must be a man. </div><div align="left"><br />75. I go to the gym three times a week and work out for 1½ hours each time. But I feel guilty that I’m not getting the exercise by doing actual, productive work. </div><div align="left"><br />76. I feel guilty about feeling guilty.</div><div align="left"><br />77. I hate cooked carrots, but I don’t feel guilty for hating them. They deserve it. Stupid carrots.<br /><br />78. I’m left-handed, but I masturbate with my right hand. Go figure.<br /><br />79. I plan to wash all the windows in my house, as soon as hell freezes over.<br /><br />80. I thought I was in love once, but it was just gas.<br /><br />81. I can read palms. You will lead a long and happy life…oh dear, wait…never mind, let’s talk about something else.<br /><br />82. I’ve never met a vibrator I didn’t like.<br /><br />83. I am really hungry right now, so I’m going to go get something good to eat and try not to feel guilty about it, even though I know I will, because I promised myself I wouldn’t eat anything fattening tonight, but everything that sounds good to me is fattening!<br /><br />84. No man has ever beaten me up, but if one ever tries, I can guarantee he’ll be sorry. 85. I float like a moth and sting like a wasp…on steroids. I’m a pretty good boxer, too. (Not really.)</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUQ7pPoV1FRgOHjUXPzZUJ-H8TFVI5nAcENmkAbvAjzZHFn5eVHEGcO2I-wviOc4d4-AOEKa2FPVqrVjQ6djMwCQgodRyfPJNF3DSRMsbZM4YgjfcLOQXYu6te60SwUCAl0nT3NfkhB0/s1600-h/boxing.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"> </span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">86. My ex and I went to a nudist camp several times, back in the 80’s. It was an eye-opening experience. I was amazed at the variation in size, shape, color, and condition of the bare-naked penises. Most of the men were able to keep them deflated, but one well-endowed teenager was at half-mast most of the time. It was quite entertaining.<br /><br />87. I learned the hard way that I must never tell a Jehovah’s Witness missionary that I am an Atheist. It is like waving raw meat in front of a lion.<br /><br />88. When I was five years old, a neighbor girl hit me across the head with a two-by-four. So I killed her. (Only one of these sentences is true.)<br /><br />89. While I’ve never done any actual research on the subject, I suspect that lesbians give better cunnilingus than men do, since they actually know THE LOCATION OF THE CLITORIS!<br /><br />90. I can crush Japanese Beetles with my bare fingers.<br /><br />91. I think the sale and use of marijuana should be legal. Period! Exclamation mark:<br /><br />92. My favorite pen is in the shape of a flamingo, with lots of bright pink feathers on top of its head.<br /><br />93. Sometimes I wish I had a pet, preferably an orange-haired kitty, but then I smoke a joi</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;">nt and forget about it. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"><br />94. I tried smoking oregano once. Mama mia! It was disappointing.<br /><br />95. I cry over spilt milk.<br /><br />96. I truly believe that two wrongs make a right.<br /><br />97. You CAN have your cake and eat it too. It will be stored in that roll of fat around your waist.<br /><br />98. Sometimes I think I may have a split personality. But then someone inside my head assures me that I don’t.<br /><br />99. A rose is a rose is a rose, unless it’s a banana. In that case, it might have a “split” personality. Get it? A banana split? Never mind.<br /><br />100. I’m nearing the finish line! My heart is pounding like an angry judge’s gavel. I’m out of breath. I think I may throw up! But no, I can’t quit now, no matter how much you would like me to!<br /><br />101. I cooked a man in Crisco, just to watch him fry.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </span></div>Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-19202548689312455262008-08-03T23:48:00.003-04:002008-08-04T00:51:51.281-04:00Regrets, I Have a FewI got careless, and blew my anonymity. So, to protect myself from any further humiliation, I have deleted my naughty posts. From now on, my posts will be suitable for small children, clergy and shellfish. Excuse me, while I go shoot myself.Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-83676223402148923882007-11-01T20:41:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:47:12.791-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-19165771200308122272007-10-30T09:10:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:45:03.574-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-20915892969531846422007-10-24T21:27:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:43:34.671-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-12327823182911215542007-10-24T21:19:00.003-04:002008-12-09T13:27:51.156-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4RxWGeXPnBA6wzahQgJClt3KYJ1QkLLAk2kqEm1WXqsc8Ardfx4RvzQqFNB6aiveCXEWdywLz1ZOXC5GkzeGDCsMZW-5QEJGzgR96maNHtEX-Hik9ISZsUnRJDSK-IrXZnlbeOc6u5c/s1600-h/kissing.jpg"></a>Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-13907977518469630912007-10-24T21:19:00.002-04:002008-08-03T23:38:20.261-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-81644511765463918312007-10-24T21:15:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:36:31.460-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-66342043358053233792007-10-24T21:13:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:34:41.539-04:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;">.</span>Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-71079784348921961892007-10-24T20:53:00.001-04:002008-08-03T23:32:35.105-04:00Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5921629709116350740.post-20569839083593547592007-10-21T21:36:00.000-04:002007-10-24T21:38:00.612-04:00<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span> </div>Madam Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00136166772469538966noreply@blogger.com1