Mukkefuck Cafe

truth or dare

Despite the fact that I can't even come up with words to describe the SUCK that is you, my faithful reader...here's the truth about justdawn.

Originally posted November 17, 2005.

1) She was once known as 'spaghetti legs' Well, actually, I was most often referred to as "spider legs" and spaghetti arms...I was a bit gangly as a kid;)

2) She was once threatened with arrest for offering to mail dog poo to a member of the Los Angeles Police Dept. Well...yeah. It was during the LA Dead shows back in the Fall of '94, if memory serves me correctly. My dog squatted to take a poo right in the middle of the parking lot. I was trying to drag her off to the side so as to prevent a bigger mess from ensuing...and these fucking pigs started yelling at me to pick it up...etc...etc. I had every intention of picking it up and disposing of it properly, I truly did...but I could no do anything until she was FINISHED! I offered to pick it up and mail it to them...it was at that point the Denotsko dragged me away and asked me to kindly shut the fuck up;)

3) Friends were ordered to tell the story of her prom date's 'accident' to a judge under oath. ROFL...as interesting as that sounds...it is not true. I went to prom with one of my best friends, Luke. We actually only spent about 30 minutes at the prom before going back to the hotel room we had reserved with all of our friends to party:)

4) She eats three different kinds of fruit daily. False. I much prefer veggies to fruits...it is a texture thing. *gag*

5) She once owned a car with the words PARTY TIME written on the side. I am embarassed to admit that this in in fact, true. There was a little *incident* on my 16th birthday that left be believing that I would never actually be allowed to get my license, much less, own a car...so when my Dad showed up at my work one afternoon to pick me up in my very own 1984 Ford Escort with the hideous "Party Time" logo and accompanying graphics...I knew better than to complain. (nor did I complain when he drew up a sales contract that involved me paying him $500 more for the car than he did...)

6) Her father has been known to enjoy the sight of small dogs humping people's heads. heh...I love my Dad and his passive aggressive, sadistic tendencies:) Denotsko is the only person I have ever known to be molested by my Dad's dog...but who knows?!? There could be more;)

7) She has five tattoos. True...I have a phoenix on my right upper arm, a celtic band around my left arm, an HR Geiger inspired Allien on my right shoulder blade, a Celtic knotwork Jackal design on my left, and a skeletal lizard on my right calf.

8) She can spit ping-pong balls over ten feet in the air and catch them in her mouth. I don't really know if this is true OR false as I have never put it to the test. I will let you know at a later date;)

9) She likes to sing a song called 'Tits & Whiskey'. Mary Prankster...she ROCKS!!

10) Her left foot only has four toes. False...each of my feet have all 5 digits.

11) She had to call her parents less than a week after her wedding to ask for bail money for her new husband. I digress...this is the truth. He was picked up on an old warrant for restitution owed from a moment of total and udder stupidity.

12) A punkrock band named 'Suspicious Mole' wrote a song about seeing her beat up a gas station attendant with a squeegee. heh...false.

13) She once tried to poison someone by soaking bread in bleach, and making them a sandwich with it. OK...for the gazillionth time, it was an ACCIDENT!!! I had sprayed a bleach solution on the kitchen counter to clean it. (we lived in a really old and nasty house...and I was pregnant and trying to sterilize every hard surface I could...) Denotsko decides to make a sandwich...not noticing that the counters were completely fucking SATURATED when he placed his bread in them. It was soooo NOT my fault.

14) Her highschool yearbook photo features her holding a stuffed unicorn and wearing leather pants. False...I have never owned a stuffed unicorn...or leather pants.

15) She may have a warrant for her arrest in at least one state. This may have been true at one time, but I am sure that the statute of limitations has since expired.

16) She was once a volunteer fire fighter. This is true.

17) Her nude image can be found on at least one internet site. I am not saying that it is impossible...but it is highly unlikely.

18) She was part a group of hooligans that destroyed an entire floor of a hotel in a drug crazed party-gone-riot. Yeah...it was at the very Dead show during which Denotsko and I got together. I will say that the destruction of the top floor of this hotel and the circumstances that led me to that point are not among my most proud moments.

19) She is ambidextrous. False...although I can do anything but write with both hands.

20) She voted for Ross Perot. ummmm....no. I am not even sure I was old enough to vote when Ross Perot ran?!?

waking up at the crack of Dawn

Originally posted November 15, 2005.

Well, well,well. Guess who gets to wear the dress today. It is I, denotsKO the wonder babe! I have been asked to post on Pockets of Resistance today so that I can offer to you a challenge. I have here 20 questions about justdawn, or as I like to call her, um....well...just Dawn. Where was I? What was my point? You, her humble readers of her rants and raves, get to attempt to answer as many of these questions with a true or false. The person who answers the most correctly wins a prize. What could I possibly have to offer as a reward for such an amazing feat? You get to be called a winner.

 

1) She was once known as 'spaghetti legs'

2) She was once threatened with arrest for offering to mail dog poo to a member of the Los Angeles Police Dept.

3) Friends were ordered to tell the story of her prom date's 'accident' to a judge under oath.

4) She eats three different kinds of fruit daily.

5) She once owned a car with the words PARTY TIME written on the side.

6) Her father has been known to enjoy the sight of small dogs humping people's heads.

7) She has five tattoos.

8) She can spit ping-pong balls over ten feet in the air and catch them in her mouth.

9) She likes to sing a song called 'Tits & Whiskey'.

10) Her left foot only has four toes.

11) She had to call her parents less than a week after her wedding to ask for bail money for her new husband.

12) A punkrock band named 'Suspicious Mole' wrote a song about seeing her beat up a gas station attendant with a squeegee.

13) She once tried to poison someone by soaking bread in bleach, and making them a sandwich with it. 14) Her highschool yearbook photo features her holding a stuffed unicorn and wearing leather pants. 15) She may have a warrant for her arrest in at least one state.

16) She was once a volunteer fire fighter.

17) Her nude image can be found on at least one internet site.

18) She was part a group of hooligans that destroyed an entire floor of a hotel in a drug crazed party-gone-riot.

19) She is ambidextrous.

20) She voted for Ross Perot.

 

First Memory

Originally posted August 19, 2005.

I was just curious as to how far back most of you can remember. It seems the older I get, the shorter my memory (and attention span) are...but I think that my first actual memory goes all the way back to 1975. I was just 2 years old at the time. We had just moved to Augusta, Georgia from Falls Church, Virginia. My Dad was in the Army , and attending the SATCOM school there. My Mom was busy caring for yours truly and trying to make our apartment "home". Our apartment had electric heating. The heaters were made of some sort of metal, and mounted to the wall. I seem to recall them being about as high as my chest...maybe a little shorter. The control panel was located on the top side of the thing. It had various switches to adjust the cooking temperature...and the switches were surrounded by a soft, felt-like film. I was ever fascinated with it. So...my Mom was busily hanging pictures while I amused myself. She had placed several nails on top of the heater, so that they would be close at hand when she needed one. I can remember picking up a nail and scratching the soft part around the switches...I liked the way it felt...then I poked at it a little, and it gave way pretty easily. The next thing I did will forever be etched in my mind as my First Big Mistake. I poked that nail right through the felt-like, filmy cover thing...and made contact with the wires underneath. There was a loud POP!...and there were sparks...and then smoke. The next thing I can recall was my mother dragging me down the hall by my arm. She practically threw me into the bathroom and ran cold water over my hand. (I think it was in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation that I was experiencing...) My knuckles were blackened a bit...but worse than that...my Mom was REALLY mad at me. Most of my early childhood memories are those of the most traumatic experiences. I think that is sad, because it makes it seem that I was just a hapless and clumsy kid who was always getting into trouble... I wonder what my parents can recall;)

Are you sure she's mine??

Originally posted on August 17, 2005.

I am taking you all the way back to December 31, 1995. This was the date that my first daughter was due to be born. I had gone for a doctor's appointment that day and my doctor thought that I was measuring a little bit big, so he went ahead and ordered an ultrasound just to check on things. I went in and had my scan, and then sat in my doctor's office while he looked the images over...saying hummm....and ahhh at annoying intervals.

He thought she looked to be about 8.5 pounds. We want to see you next week, and if she isn't born by then, we will discuss an induction. OK...red flags were waving all over the place. I don't know about you, but I think 8 1/2 pounds of ANYTHING is totally more than enough to have to squeeze out of one's twat! I voiced my concerns...and he said he could be off by a whole pound. (EITHER WAY, as it turns out...) And besides...he had NO plans of staying late on New Year's Eve to deliver me.

So...I go home and continue to gestate for another week. I go in for my scheduled appointment with strong hopes that he would just have me admitted to the hospital. I felt like a friggin' elephant! I was also fairly certain that the baby inside of me was MORE than finished cooking. He checks things out...and then says he wants to strip my membranes. OK...for any of you out there that are currently expecting, or plan to procreate...EVER!...remember what I am telling you now. You do NOT want your doctor (or anybody, for that matter) to EVER *strip your membranes*!!! OK...just a quick anatomy lesson...the baby is in the amniotic sac...floating in a bunch of amniotic fluid. This sac is located in the woman's uterus. The cervix it the baby's exit from said uterus. The amniotic sac is pressed against said cervix...and when your doctor says he wants to strip them...be basically has to stick half his friggin' ARM in there and he then runs his finger around the rim of one's cervix breaking the seal in between it and the amniotic sac. I will just leave you with this...it hurts. REALLY, REALLY bad.

OK...he says that should get things going. I leave, feeling more skeptical than ever. It was now January 7th. I called the next day in tears. NOTHING was happening. No contractions, not even a TWINGE. I BEG to be induced. I am admitted to the hospital on the evening of the 9th. They apply a capsule filled with synthetic prostaglandin into my cervix. (I would later learn that semen contains the real thing...so I could have just stayed home and skipped that part, heh!) OK...so I mostly stay awake all night paying really close attention to my uterus. That guy I Married sleeps in the recliner beside my bed. Nothing too significant happens during the night, so at 7am on the 10th, an IV is started and I am given pitocin to cause my uterus to contract. The contractions were very bearable throughout most of the day. I was feeling VERY empowered back in those days, and wanted a drug free, all natural delivery. I slowly dilate. (and when I say slowly...I mean VERY slowly) My doctor repeatedly tells me that he thinks that the baby's head is too large to pass through my pelvis. (Well...DUH!!) And I repeatedly tell him that I WILL have this baby the way I had always planned to. (I would later eat those words...)

So...at about 3am on the 11th, I am moved to a birthing room. I am finally feeling hopeful. We are all sleep deprived, and I was getting really cranky because they would no let me eat anything. So...sometime shortly thereafter, transitional labor begins. For those of you who do not know what this means...it is when the cervix dilates those last few centimeters to 10. The contractions come hard and fast with not much of a break in between them. It is both physically and emotionally exhausting. Once I am fully dilated, I get the strong urge to push. The bad thing about this is that the only two people in the room with me are my Mom and That Guy I Married...and they both happened to be sleeping at the time. My mom woke up to the tell tale sound of my straining to pass a watermelon through my yoni...and she screamed for me to stop...thus scaring the crap out of That Guy I Married. FINALLY, I was getting a little bit of support...or at the very least, some attention! heh

My mom goes to get a nurse to come and check things out...and they get the room set up for the birth. I feel so relieved that this is finally about to end...or *is* it?!? I push for more than 6 hours. I think that towards the end, even *I* was getting bored with the whole thing. The pain was becoming unbearable and I was becoming quite irrational. I BEGGED for an epidural...or Demerol...or a mallet. ANYTHING to put me out of my misery. That is when it was finally decided that I was a childbirth flunkie. I was totally incapable of pushing my baby into this world...I had failed. I was quickly prepped for a c-section...and at 1:18pm on the 11th, Rowan Emmalie was surgically extracted from my womb.

The first words I remember hearing were from my doctor...he said "I think she is my record largest baby!" (GREAT, I thought to myself! I had tons of newborn clothing that would never get to be worn!) The anesthesiologist replied "Is that baby holding a cheeseburger?!?!?" (This I took in stride, as he was the sole person keeping me in relatively good spirits whilst I lie awake in the operating table having a giant baby wrenched from my pelvis!) Then That Guy I Married had a good look at her. She was relatively dark complected and had a head full of thick, dark hair...in stark contrast to his blonde hair and blue eyes...and he looked at me and uttered the words no woman who has just gone through 2 1/2 days of labor wants to hear...

"Are you sure she's mine??"

The Cooking Lesson

This story was originally posted on the 9th of August, 2005.

For today's story, I had to do some serious mental de-cluttering. I had to dig through myriad file boxes of memories to find just the right one. One that will entertain, make Julia Child roll over in her grave and simply to make you all go "HMMMMM..."

I am taking you with me back to my high school years. This would have been 11th grade. I lived in a suburb of Washington DC with my comfortable, middle class family. My Dad had (still has, in fact) a job with the Federal Government and my Mom was a Dental Assistant. We even had a dog and a picket fence.

This story is not meant to portray my Dad as a bad guy. In hindsight, I think he was probably pretty typical of fathers from his generation. He worked hard to provide for our family...and spent most of his down time drinking. Now, I am not going to lie to you all and say he was not an alcoholic...but what he *wasn't* was a raging, slobbering, wife beating drunk. Quite the opposite, really. He would come home from work with his 12 pack of whatever beer was on sale at Giant, and then just drink himself quietly to sleep.

Most nights, my Mom would arrive home from work much later than my Dad. This story is about one of Those Such Nights.

It was a Friday. I had brought my friend, Kelly home with me for dinner before we went out for the evening. This was actually the first time she had the pleasure of meeting my Father. He had already emptied a few too many beers into himself when he asked us if we would like a cooking lesson. We were bored and he was amusing, so we obliged him. He gathered together what would be the ingredients for meatloaf. He combined them all together into a large bowl, impersonating Julia Child's voice to the best of his ability. He really didn't do too badly! heh

So...he gets to the point where you put the glob of meat into a baking dish and form it into the shape of a LOAF, right?!?

WRONG! He proceeded to fashion our dinner for that evening into the shape of a penis. That's right, my dear reader...he made a PENIS SHAPED MEATLOAF all in the name of amusing his 16 year old daughter and her shocked and horrified friend.

I had never been at such a loss for words...well...EVER in my short life up until that point. I was very much stuck in between laughing like a hysterical loon and hopping the next Greyhound Bus straight out of town.

I am proud to say that my Dad has been sober for the better part of the past decade...and as far as I know, has not attempted to fashion *any* food into the shape of human naughty bits, since.

The world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel...

Originally posted on August 7, 2005.

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you a double feature. A tale told by two idiots. Probably full of sound and fury...and definitely signifying nothing.

OK...today's tale is, to me, a tragedy...but I am sure that some of you will see humor in it. Let me start by introducing the characters. You already know me, and That Guy I Married.

Next, I will introduce Nathan. He was from a very upper middle class family in Northern Virginia. He rebelled against all of that by trying way to hard to be a cool hippie sort of guy. I lost touch with him some 10 years ago, but am fairly certain he ultimately settled in Albuquerque with a Massage Therapist by the name of Rainbow or Fruit Bat or something. Of most significance to my story, he was the owner of the van that we inhabited at the time.

Then there was Todd. We were on our way to the West Coast from the East Coast, and stopped in Albuquerque on the way as Nathan had some friends there. We were passing time in a park when I first met Todd. That Guy I Married was amusing himself with a balloon or some such nonsense, Nathan was busy trying to look as cool as a guy in a skirt could look...and I was people watching. Todd approached me, immediately confused me...and then proceeded to charm the socks right off my feet. He came up and simply said "Did it hurt?" I responded with "HUH?" And he said, "When you fell...did it hurt??" Still not knowing what in the world he was talking about, he eluded to my being an angel that must have dropped right out of the sky. I immediately loved him. Of all the people we met during our time On The Road, Todd is one of the rare ones who we remained in contact with. He was much more than a friend. He was a brother to me.

Next, I will introduce you to the Main Character. Her full name was 10,000 Upside Down, Screaming, Yakking Trees...but we called her Kitty-Kitty for short. We picked her up as a stray at a gas station somewhere in the South Eastern United States. She was a very tiny and very cute Calico Kitten. She was well cared for in my charge. I saw to it that she was dewormed and well fed...and even provided her with a litter box, despite the fact that we live in an van. I wore cut off cargo pants most of the time...and she would ride in my pocket, so we would not have to leave her alone in the van if we had to run into a store or something.

There were a few other players in this drama...but I will leave them Nameless...mostly because I do not remember their names anymore. I will just call them Seattle Guy, Girlfriend and Ex-Babysitter.

So...we headed up the West Coast. For any of you who have not made this journey...I highly recommend it. Nathan had some old friends in Seattle, and he wanted to pay them a visit. We met up with them at Seattle Guy's house. He actually lived in his father's basement with his Girlfriend. They were nice enough people...but not necessarily the type who you would imagine hanging out with Punk Rockers or Dead Heads. Wanting to show us a good time while in Their Fair City, they took us to one of their favorite pubs...which was not the type of establishment where you would expect to see Punk Rockers or Dead Heads. I recall it being called the Flower Pub or something like that. Anyway...we were met by many of their friends and acquaintances there...and were treated to many pitchers of Seattle's Finest Microbrew. At some point, this girl came on the scene. Apparently she was Nathan's Ex-Babysitter...and he immediately got it into his little mind that he needed to fulfill some sort of sick childhood fantasy by banging her on that very night.

Once we had consumed enough alcohol to be asked to leave the Flowery Pub Place, we returned to Seattle Guy's basement. I recall more alcohol being served...specifically vodka. (are you noticing yet another common theme??) heh

The merriment continued into the wee hours...Todd would burst out of the Way Cool Game Room, via the saloon style doors, whistling the theme to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly...Nathan was busy trying to get into Ex-Babysitter's pants...and me and That guy I Married just laughed...and laughed. I guess once Ex-Babysitter had become intoxicated enough to think that having sex with a smelly guy in a skirt seemed like a Good Plan...Nathan wanted us outta there. Me and That Guy I Married were booted from the house under the accusation of making Too Much Noise. So...we went to the van. Me, That Guy I Married and Kitty, Kitty. Taking full advantage of the Alone Time, we decided to engage in some gratuitous relations of our own...and then proceeded to pass out.

Upon awaking...I was shocked and completely horrified to find my beloved Kitty UNDERNEATH That Guy I Married. She had passed on to that Golden Box of Catnip in the Sky. She was gone. In short...he SMOOSHED my cat.

There has been much argument over the years as to what really happened to my Kitty...but the evidence kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it??