Trail Etiquette: For the idiots of the world.

We spend as much time in the park as possible. I don't mean the dinky little city parks where you would expect to see parents taking the screaming hoard to get just a few minute of shut the hell up before running off on the next errand/job/class. I'm talking about state parks with miles of woodland trails. Not a high heeled environment, though we've seen them out there. They boggle the mind. Here's the thing, if you're going out to a state park, where the playgrounds are small and in the camping section (which suggests what? That's right. Camping!) city wear is not a common sense choice. If you have never been out into the great outdoors and have a trip planned, I suggest you do a little research. I mean, seriously people. All it takes to figure out how to dress and act out in the wild is a little bit of brain power an internet connection.

A few weeks ago, when the Bestie and I were on our weekly hike, we saw a group of people from Germany. Three, to be exact. Two men, one "woman". The one "woman" was wearing daisy dukes and platform heals. Are you frigging kidding me? I mean, really? We've seen all kinds out there. Elizabeth and I stumble out of the woods, packs on our backs, hair disheveled, faces red, sweat dripping, dirt in every pore, limping from the blisters and walk up on a family unloading from their brand new SUV. Mom, Dad and two point five kids, all in their name brand best, hair perfect, cologne on overdrive, all smiles. They aren't there for the trails, so much. They are usually out there for a day picnic. That's not such a biggie. I wouldn't pay $7 a person for a picnic, but whatever floats your boat. That's why we stay in the more remote areas of the park. We avoid the prissy folk out there. On the more attractive trails, however...whoo boy! The Elm Lake Trail and the Spillway are some of the more popular hikes for the adult crowd, where the Creekfield interpretive trail is more popular among children's groups and the handicapped. They are both wheelchair accessible, and Creekfield has raised and braille descriptive posts. Not to mention the George Observatory is back there. It's not unusual to be over run by a herd of screaming, squealing, texting school kids on Elm Lake. They usually travel in packs of a hundred. But, I'll get to that.

If you are going to go out into nature with high hopes of seeing actual, real, honest to God wildlife, there are a few things you should know. Like, animals have no fashion sense. They really don't give two squirts in a bucket what your ass looks like in your crotch hugging shorts, or how high heels make your legs look longer. AS if we needed to know that they can reach around the 380lb tard waddling next to you. Kudos for him for getting the exorcise, but you, madam, are a fracking loon. The animals may not care about your shoes, but you damn sure will, once you hit a half a mile and you slip. That gut wrenching crack you just heard? That was your ankle, Miss. Limp away. Also, they do not find White Diamonds attractive. It isn't fun for them. Or for us, for that matter. Before you dump on a gallon of your favorite cologne or perfume think about us. For the love of God, just don't do it! You wont see wildlife that way. You will let them know you're coming so that they have plenty of time to hide from you...and us. Thanks, dummy. Same goes for deodorant. I won't be so mean here. Lots of people don't think about this. By all means, wear it! Please! But, think about what you're wearing. If you put on cherry blossom suave, you're doing two things. Alerting the critters and alerting the BEES! Do you really want to spend your leisurely day in the park running from bees? Can you even run in those shoes without breaking your neck or ripping the crotch out of your two sizes two small shorts? Tons of hair product doesn't help, either. This goes for men and women. You are equally guilty. Invest in unscented deodorant, settle for a gel free ponytail, wear comfortable clothes and good walking shoes. Leave the frilly crap at home. Out here, no one cares.

Oh, the noise. Animals don't just smell you coming. They have ears too, you know. Unfortunately, so do we. You're cackling laugh and auditorium voice doesn't fit in the woods anymore than in a church or a hospital. Unless you're dying and/or lost, keep it the hell down! I don't care what the punchline to that joke you told ten minutes ago was, and I'm fairly certain the deer don't care either! Although, the squirrels might. They have weird senses of humor. Most of us come out to the woods for the solitude. We like the quiet for oh so many reasons. Be aware of the fact that there are other people. Be courteous of them and of the animals. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. This is where the bus loads of kids come into play. There's really nothing quite like seeing the alligator sneaking up behind a bird, poised to snap. You have your camera ready, also poised to snap. When, around the corner comes the most obnoxious group of tweens you've ever had the misfortune to encounter. The rumble is all but deafening. The cloud of dust that the herd kicks up is so thick that it takes fifteen minutes for it to settle and makes it look like the aftermath of nuclear holocaust. Half of them are whining about the heat/dust/bugs/lack of wifi. When you pull into the parking lot and are greeted by three big yellow kid eaters, that's a sure sign of trouble. Flee! Run while you can! Honestly, I think they should make them take a hike specific quiz. Don't tell them why they are taking it and treat it like a test. Find out what interest each kid has. Once you know who has an honest desire to be in the park and experience nature in all of it's solace and glory, you know how to group your kids. Put like minded kids together, and in smaller groups. I remember those field trips. I wanted to be there and the kids who didn't always ruined it for us. You'd think the schools would have realized that by now. More chaperones! Not enough on staff? Ask parents to volunteer. Offer them free admission if they'll help wrangle the kids! It's not that hard! It would keep people like me from shoving the little assholes into the nearest swamp and holding them under. "Teenager? Nope, sorry. Haven't seen one. This? Oh, I'm just filling my canteen. Move along."  Ugh.

Then there's the loving family who insists on holding hands as they take a slow stroll. How sweet and picturesque...unless you're trying to pass.  Take up the entire path or trail. I don't care. At least have the courtesy to get out of the way when someone is trying to get by. Those people are no different than the grocery store isle hoggers. There's room, I promise. MOVE, asshat! It's even more annoying when you've said "excuse me" three times and the still haven't gotten out of the way.

My husbands favorite. Litter bugs. When I'm two miles away from the nearest human, crawling through the brush to get to the next section of trail, there is no reason why I should find an empty six pack. If you want to get drunk in the woods, fine. Take your trash with you when you stumble your drunk ass back to your camp. Water bottles are meant to hold water, not hold down patches of grass or make a nice swimming pool for the ants to build around. Not only is it unsightly, it's a hazard to the animals you just paid money to come pollute. You, dear litter bug, are the worst of them all. There should never be soda cans floating past in the bayou, candy wrappers blowing down the trail and, dear ostrich of wingsdom, condoms in the parking lot. Or, anywhere else. If you want to cheat on your wife, get a motel. Throw that bitch away, you nasty...EW! I don't need to know what your crusty splooge looks like, and my kids damn sure don't. You, sir, are disgusting! As for the Hub, it's weird. At home he'll leave his trash an inch from the can. In the woods he has a conniption if you can't carry your trash an extra mile. I agree with him. In the woods. I agree with me at home. He's right, though. If you could carry it in while it was full, you can carry it out while it's empty.

He made a good point. It might be false logic, but, it did make sense. We are smokers. We're extra careful with our cigarette butts. We put them out and carry them out with us. Both of us were paying attention to the litter and we noticed something. In the entire day we saw only one butt on the ground. It stands to reason that someone who isn't willing to leave the small trash lying about wouldn't leave the big stuff either. We know there were other smokers out there. We saw them. By that logic, the smokers were actually more thoughtful than the non. He went on a tirade about how non smokers tend to adopt a haughty attitude towards smokers, and yet, they seemed to be the biggest mess makers.  That is by no means me saying that all non smokers litter and all smokers are courteous. Not at all. On that day, however, that's how it seemed to be. Everyone should be watching what they do. Those parks are home to myriad animals, flora and fauna. How do you feel when someone comes in and mucks up your home? How would you feel if they came in and dumped pesticides in your living room floor? There's really no difference between that and what is done in our parks every day.

Okay, I'm done ranting for now. What are some of the inconsiderate, assholey things you've seen people do in parks?

The first solo trip EVER!

Brazos Bend trail map

Sunday and Monday were good days for us. Okay, I take that back. Monday was a good day. Sunday was an exercise is frustration. I waited for the Hub to get off of work, then waited another few hours for him to finish running last minute errands while I worried that we wouldn't make it to the park on time. I had already packed everything up. It was only an overnighter, and since I was the one doing all of the packing, there wasn't much. You don't need an entire house full of gear for a camping trip. I mean, seriously! I've seen people pack, no lie, a van, truck AND trailer for a three day trip. About 85% of that gear never got used. After years of being the one to do the packing for trips like that I decided that I would never be that person. You take what you need. Nothing more.  So anyway, here's what was so good about it: The Hub and I got together in April of 2006. We were married in July of 2009. In all of that time we have never been on a solo trip. Not once. Never, ever, ever. It's sucked in the worst way. We are what you would call "broke folk". There have been times when we were only a step above living under a bridge, and there have been times when we were all set. The sad thing is that in the good times we were too afraid of blowing the money we did have on anything unnecessary. Either that, or we were working so many hours for that money that there wasn't time for a trip. So, we've had to take what invitations were afforded us. That meant going on camping trips and Texas Renaissance Festival trips with the in-laws and the Besties. That's all fun and very much appreciated. But, if you are a married couple who has never even had a honeymoon, the draw of doing something on your own, like the grown ups do, is strong! Just once, we wanted to go and do, and not feel like third wheel leeches in the process. Sunday night and Monday were the chance we were looking for. I have to thank one of my Besties for that! She pushed, and I was so happy for it!

So, five o'clock rolls around and the Hub finally makes it home. The car is loaded already, so all that's left is for me to argue him out of trying to pack another three changes of clothes in a separate bag, and hit the road. We make our store stops (gotta have those trail snacks and water!), feed the pets and we're on our way. How long did all of that take? Well, the park is just at thirty minutes away and we got there at 8:30. GAH! The gate closes at ten, but I had this sneaking suspicion that the gate office would be closed and we'd have to turn around and go home. Thank God I was only half right! There's a big yellow check in box for after hours campers! <insert ironic happy camper joke here>  Whoohoo for honor boxes! We locate our shelter in the dark and setup begins. I was really afraid that we'd need to set up the tent because of closed gate office and locked shelter, but again, I was wrong. Sometimes, I really like being wrong! The shelter had a latch, but no lock. Now, if you're going hiking and plan to camp the night before, a screened shelter is the way to go. No set up or tear down cutting into your trail time. Our tent is a bit of a monster. There's no quick way to make it through tear down.  There's no quick way to make it through ANY tear down when your teeth are chattering, the sun has barely started to rise, one eye is still sleep sealed and your coffee hasn't had time to hit the cup yet.

At Brazos Bend State park the screened shelters have electricity, water outside, a set of shelves, a ceiling fan, ceiling lights, BBQ pit, picnic table and a fire ring. All for $25! Well worth it, considering that the prime tent sites are also $25. We get our gear unloaded, set up the bed and start working on our packs. They were mostly ready, but there's always that last minute tweaking and double checking. Once the packs were good to go it was sandwich time. Belly's full, gear ready, night walk to the privy done, BED TIME! I really wanted to build a fire. Chris really wanted to pass out. Chris won. Here's where we run into a bit of a snafu. I have a child's bladder. That's too many trips for the Hub, who still seems to think I can't make it to the end of the driveway after dark without being mugged and murdered. He was almost willing to let me make the walk alone when he realized It's dark, isolated, woods, and we have toilet paper. Just go behind that tree." O.O Oh, please tell me you're joking. He wasn't. Okay, okay. We're camping. What the hell? Trip number three became a problem. We had been visited. Visited by coyotes. Any other critter would have been nothing at all. Coyotes, not so much. Poor Hub had to crawl out of his toasty blanket bundle and stand guard. Poor baby. I'm the one with my butt in the wind! Needless to say, I got control of my potty trips after that. We learned a hard lesson. The fans in the shelters, or at least, in shelter eleven, are insane! It got so cold. Now, I was prepared. I tucked warm PJ's into the back side of our pillow cases, just in case. It was so cold when I woke up at about three, that I couldn't even move to get the damn things out. I just snuggled in closer and went back to sleep. Chris said he woke up with the exact same thoughts. The alarms go off at six in the morning and the day begins. For him. For me, the coughing, sniffling, sneezing begins.

Chris putting on his fully loaded pack for the first time

We decided that it was way too early for food. Breakfast was skipped, but that was okay. We had an over abundance of granola in our bags. Coffee was NOT bypassed. Thank the powers that be for Folgers instant coffee single packs! After we woke up and warmed up, talked for a while as we watched the sun come up over the trees and packed up camp, we headed off to the office for check in verification. We had the cabin until two in the afternoon, but we had no plans on coming back. At the office we got a nice surprise. We'd overpaid our gate fee.  COOL!   Money back is always a good thing! So we're all checked in, our proper day pass is in the windshield, rout mapped, time to park.  I have to say, I got a huge kick out of watching the Hub try to get his pack on and situated. He'd only given it a cursory test run. This was his first actual use, and the first time he'd put it on fully loaded, camel back and all. He did good. I didn't have to fend off anything from going in unnecessarily and adding weight. He'd also listened to me when it came to picking his trail snacks. Color me surprised!

George Observatory

There is a trail that starts off near the visitor center, which is where we parked, that we've managed to miss every time. The bestie and I took it last Friday. That's when my where the hell did the observatory go?" question was answered. That's where I plotted the course start. The plan was this: Start at Creekfield lake trail, to Roadside trail, cut across to the Bluestem trail, Bayou trail Creekwood lake trail, back to Bayou, Sawmill, Riverview, Bluestem to Whiteoak, Red Buckeye back up to Whiteoak, cut across the park to Hale Loop, back to Roadside, Creekfield and then the nature center. Visit the center, eat lunch, then off again. Pilant Slough, Live Oak, 40 Acre, Hoot's Hollow, back to 40 Acre, Spillway, Elm lake, Horseshoe Loop, big Creek Loop (all up the west side then back down the East), back to Pilant and on to the car. Just check out the trail map pick at the top.  That's every trail except Prairie. Yes, we ARE ambitious. Thank you for asking. A little soft in the head, too. It's more fun that way! It's all fun and games until the blisters pop.

The first thing the Hub noticed was the mushrooms. They were in abundance because of the rains. So glad he didn't decide to taste test! I give him hell, but he does have more sense than that. He was in hog heaven. We stopped to check out the colors of the berries blending with the leaves and flowers so many times that I thought it would take us hours to cover a single mile! He can try and act like a little bad ass, but he turns into a softie in nature. It's nice. My pedometer started flipping out on me before we ever hit the Roadside trail. (< Do NOT waste money on that little piece of shit!) I realized that it was only marking every third to eighth step. That kind of sucked, but that's what maps are for. At the Bluestem trail head we had to stop so that I could medicate before I scared all of the wildlife away with my lung rattling coughs. By all rights, I shouldn't have been there at all. What was I gonna do? Say no to my first chance at a solo trip, sit alone on the computer all day feeling miserable and whining? Nooooooo thank you. I'd rather walk it off on a trail. Or walk it on. Depends on how you look at it. The Bluestem trail is a horseback trail. Thankfully, it isn't one of the caleche trails that tear your feet apart. It's one of the few trail in the park that offer a fully wooded view with soft, sometimes muddy, ground and changing elevation. At the bottom of the hill, just before the Creekwood trail head, is a small ravine with a bridge. In the muddy creek bed was the ugliest water moccasin I've seen in a long time. Our first snake of the day. He was coiled up, staring intently at something, unmoving. What he was stalking turned out to be a rather large tree frog. The Hub decides that the poor little frog could use some human interference. What does he do? He interferes, of course.  He starts pitching big rocks into the mud in front of the snake, despite my protests. At least he didn't throw them at the thing. He says to me "It's not like he even notices us." That's when the snake turned his head and looked directly at us. Well, at me. I was a few feet away from Chris. As soon as his head swiveled my way, the frog made his move. Super Frog!!! He looked like he could have been wearing a cape, all four feet splayed out, flying through the air. I had to laugh. I fuss at the Hub for getting the snakes attention. What does he say? "Well, it's not like he's gonna come up here after us." FACEPALM. Yeah, he damn sure did! I booked it up the hill. Chris still thought he was going to stop at the creek bank. He didn't. From behind me I hear "Oh, SHIT!" and then the crunch crunch of his feet trucking through the dry leaves. Maybe he'll listen next time. <I made a funny!

Thanks a lot, Hon.

The thing we were looking forward to the most was Creekwood. None of us have ever taken that trail. It's a 3.2 mile hike, on a dead end trail, which means 6.4 miles total. From what I've been told by the rangers, it's well worth the walk. Wouldn't you know, it was closed. Dammit! I'll freely admit, we jumped the barrier. Not knowing why the trail was closed, though, we didn't go far. Just far enough to know that I really want to hike that trail! It was beautiful! Alas, not that day. After a while we found ourselves on Sawmill, trucking along the two mile straight away. I don't mind Sawmill. It's wooded and soft, but, it runs parallel with the gravel road that leads to the equestrian camp ground. If you have the misfortune of being passed by a vehicle hauling ass down that road you'll end up choking on a cloud of shell dust. Which, we did. Chris looks over at me at one point and asks "Where the hell did you get that?!" I was crunching on a granola bar I'd had tucked in my back pocket. He just shook his head and laughed. That was something different than the way the Bestie and I do things. I actually liked it better. The only time we stopped for food was for lunch. We ate our snacks on the go. It saved a hell of a lot of time, but denied us a lot of rest.  About a half a mile from the camp I made a complete fool of myself. All I saw was movement from under my foot. I gasped and stepped back. Chris whirls around with his hand on his walking stick, all prepared to defend me from slithery or crawly, sees that I'm standing there laughing and relaxes. It was a grass snake. I almost crushed his poor little head. He let me get quite a few good pics of him. He was at least two feet long, which is long for such a small snake, and a vivid green. We waited for him to cross the path then moved on.

Poor guy didn't even know how close to death he was!

At the equestrian camp I had to sit down and break out the moleskins. I still had blisters from Friday's hike and they were talking to me. If you look at the map, you might think that the equestrian camp is bare. Especially if you've seen the East side of the Whiteoak trail or any part of the Riverview trail. Riverview is all caleche, with very little tree cover. It's quite nice back there. It's a primitive site, situated at the far North East corner of the park, sitting under a canopy of trees. I like it. It's the trail in from the East side that I'm not a fan of. The one we were about to take. I already knew I didn't like it, but, this was the first trip in a while for Chris, and I wanted him to be the one to make those choices. He'd never seen it. He needed to decide for himself. I got my feet situated and grabbed a handful of pepperoni from my pack and we headed out. Not before watching a family roll in with two very pretty white mares and an even prettier little girl. We watched the little girl, who couldn't have been more than four, lead her horse around like she had been born for it. It was so peaceful.

It didn't take long for Chris to realize that he didn't like Riverview either. It's shell and wide open for a pretty good clip. One of those trails that make you push yourself to finish. Especially when you're wearing a twenty pound pack! I had to pull out his glucotabs and make him take one when he got dizzy and started with tunnel vision. It's still not as bad as the stretch of Bluestem between Riverview and Bayou. That's one point four miles of hell, right there. We got stuck on that trail with Ashley in May, and it sucked. Once we hit the bottom East side of Whiteoak we were very, very happy. There was a bird watching couple on the trail. After the equestrians, they were the second group we'd seen all day. It was already nearly one o'clock and the park was still basically empty. What neither of us could understand were the walking sticks. They were using both of them. I get that, if you're really tired, if you're in a rocky area, a slippery area, or you just generally need help balancing or testing water. I don't get using them on a flat, short trail. They obviously hadn't been on the trails long and consulted their maps every few minutes. So the sticks made no sense to me. But, that's just me. Red Buckeye is just as beautiful as always. Chris wanted to hurry through so that we could make it to the visitor center before it closed, but he also has an unhealthy addiction to Brush Oak acorns. Him gathering acorns and sorting through them to see which one he wants to keep does not make for a "quick" hike. Watching him stop every quarter mile to pick acorns off the ground is cute...and annoying. We made it back with thirty minutes to spare, though.

Chris was happy. He got to pet the baby gators, which is all he really wanted to do. That and see the baby turtle that lives in the gator tank. One of the park volunteers brought out a big corn snake for us. Guys, if you ever go out to Brazos Bend I highly recommend going to the visitors center. The people in there are so nice. We've never asked them to bring any of the critters out, though Chris did hint that he wanted to pet a gator. They just do it. It's really cool. Normally it's a good place to escape the heat of the day for a few minutes. The AC broke on Sunday, so it was just as warm inside as it was out, though not unbearably so. On the floor is an outline of the biggest gator in the park. Hurricane Ike displaced her. Up until a few days ago they had no clue where she was. They now know that she's living in Hale Lake. That makes sense to me. I have pictures of an alligator gar that I took month ago, swimming around in that lake. It was friggin HUGE. My favorite thing in the center is the thing that I have mixed feelings about. The dragonfly display. I love seeing so many different species of dragonfly and damselflies in the same case, but I can't help but shudder at the pins stuck through their bodies. I feel bad for them. Is that weird? Meh, screw it if it is. No one ever accused me of being normal. The Hub got his fill of nature displays, including groping the gator skeletons and pushing every bird call button in the building, and decided to call it lunch.

NOM NOM NOMZ

Break for advert here. The Hub found this mayo when we were doing our last minute camp shopping. It's Kraft Sandwich Shop Steakhouse. Oh...my...NOMZ! I had no idea that mayo and A1 could be so awesome together! And, cheap! We grubbed a sandwich and chips, added string cheese to our packs, put moleskin on the new set of blisters and headed out again. Now, it's four o'clock. We've already walked half of the park. I had serious questions about whether or not he was going to want to go on. He surprised the hell out of me. We hit Pilant Slough beside the amphitheater and headed over to Live Oak trail. When we walked the park with Ashley, Live Oak was closed. The trail behind us was closed off after we left it. Like idiots, we followed the road. Two miles of trucking down that hot, uneven miserable asphalt. Massive suckage! This, because of that, was one of the trails Chris had missed. I think he was determined to make up for lost time. It's beautiful back there. Hell, it's beautiful almost everywhere out there. We startled a doe and watched her make dust down the trail ahead of us. I ended up in poison Ivy trying to get pics of a duck family in the marsh alongside the trail. Go me!  But, all in all, the Hub was pleased and so was I. Once we hit 40 Acre Lake I asked him if he wanted to give Prairie trail a shot. Prairie will soon join into Live Oak, though I don't know when they'll be finished with that addition. It looks pretty well done. He said "Hell NO!" And then filled me in on what the ranger had told him. They go to the Prairie trail to catch tarantellas. Nope. No thank you. Not for me. Noooooooop. The Bestie wants to go now, more than ever. We've always avoided it because of the wide open space. We all grew up in Texas, in an area with nothing but wide open spaces. I haven't been on Prairie trail in a very long time, but I'm sure I wouldn't like it any more now than I did back then. Even less, now that I know about the eight legged freaks. No spiders for me.

NO...just...no.

He went back into supreme nature lover mode once we hit Hoot's Hollow. That's my second favorite trail in the park. It's a lot like Red Buckeye, without the river on one side. Instead, Hoot's Hollow has marshland. It's a very narrow trail, accessible to foot traffic only. I love it back there. Chris does too. He loves finding several species of berry and flower growing together. Something about the color scheme gets him. This is one of the shorter trails, at only 0.9 miles, yet it took us quite a while to cover it. Every few feet Chris was asking me to get this or that shot. On one section of trail the roots have turned the incline (or decline depending on what direction you hit the loop) into a stairway. I fully expect to see Hobbits and Fairies pop out at any second. Instead, we got buzzards. My...luck. There were two very large buzzards talking to each other in a tree above our heads. I got as beneath them as I was willing to get (I'm a nature lover, but, I'm sorry. I'm just not a buzzard shit fan) and started taking pictures. Those bad boys are loud when they play. Chris started mocking them, and wouldn't you know, just like the damn snake, they looked straight at me. Thanks, hon. I love you too. Ass. The mosquitoes are always thick back there, so I was very happy to have my repellant.

Thank again, you ass! Stop making them blame me!

Pause for another advert!

Mine is camouflage  ;P

 I, like most people, hate the feeling of "skeeter" spray. I usually (as in always) carry a bottle of Avon Skin So Soft insect repellant with me. It's greasy, but lighter than the Off spray. However, Chris got me a battery operated Off repellant clip on. It makes you sound like a walking CPU, but DAMN it works! No messy, stinky spray! The sound is noticeable when you first start using it, but after a few minutes it becomes unnoticeable. If you dislike being coated with pesticides, invest in an Off clip on. Well worth it!

Guess the gnomes weren't home

I can't say that 40 Acre was uneventful by any means. Chris launched another froggy rescue mission, this time from a gator. Yes, I did get pictures. At least he didn't throw things this time. He just talked to it, keeping it's attention on him while the frog ran for it's life. Again. Sheesh. He's gonna get us killed one day! From 40 Acre Lake on you can find alligators everywhere. You're almost guaranteed to see at least one. The birds through this area are just beautiful, as are the flowers. The Hub was bound and determined to put one in my hair. I kept telling him that he was trying to turn me into a bee magnet! LOL. On the Spillway we saw our fourth group of the day, a couple on bikes. We'd seen more bird watchers just before Hoots Hollow, with the most amazing camera lens I've ever seen! They had an owl call up in the trees and after we passed they turned it on. It startled the crap out of Chris. I never knew that the Spillway is his favorite trail. He said that he loves having the swamp on one side and the woods on the other. The entire trail runs through a canopy of trees and the ground is soft, even though it has a little bit of gravel. It's just a very pretty place. You can find wetland birds, turtles, fish and alligators on one side and deer on the other. On both ends of the Spillway there are water stations. I think it's cute that there are also doggie water stations. You know, in case you brought your own gator bait. Chris took over the camera at the Spillway/Elm intersection and got some nice gator shots while I refilled our water. We pulled out more snacks and set out for the last stretch.

Chris just wouldn't let the frogs get eaten!

We started heading North on the West side of Elm Lake. The plan was to take the entire loop up on the West side and come back down on the East side, and that's exactly what we did. At Horseshoe Lake I spotted a few deer drinking from the other side of the lake. The sun was on it's way down and everything was glowing green. The entire scene was just amazing.  It made it even better having to look between the branches of a willow tree to see it all, along with the cranes out in the water. I had seen the moon up while we were still at the tower. From where we stood, it was right at the tip of a dead tree in the marsh. Very creepy. That told us that we might just be on our way after dark. That was okay, though. Now, at Horseshoe, we were sure of it. We figured that we'd decide what rout to take after we got a feel for the night hiking. All good. I had no clue that the trail at Big Creek sat so much higher up than the creek. That was a loooong way down! But, it made for an amazing view. I guess Elizabeth and I had talked through this section the last time we were on it. I didn't remember it. Just before we hit the very tip of the entire loop, on the Big Creek Loop Trail, the damn spiders started coming out. Don't you know we made perfect moving targets?? One of those bastards even managed to shoot a web that connected the Hubs glasses to his cigarette. Good aim, that one! Halfway down the West side of Big Creek we lost our light, with about a mile and a half to go. It was creepy at first, but it was nothing like I thought it would be. Chris thought I would be worried about gators. No. Not gators. Coyotes.

Last snake of the night

When we got to Elm lake we were comfortable enough to finish the rout. If we hadn't been we were going to hit the road from there and finish on pavement, away from the water.  I stepped over our third snake on the South side of Elm. This time it was full dark and I was damn lucky I missed him. It was so much easier to spot the alligators at night. We kept the flashlights off for as long as possible. It was a bright night and we weren't in a tree tunnel, so we could see just fine. Every so often Chris would flip on my little LED light and scan the water for eye shine. It was so creepy cool seeing how many gators were on the prowl. Once we got to Pilant Slough the light had to stay on. It's densely wooded and we could no longer see. Fifteen minutes of pitch black trail with something growling on the trail to our right in one spot, and we were back at the car. I really enjoyed night hiking. Like, really enjoyed it. I'd love to do that again!

Goofy & handsome Hub!

In the car we realized just how sore we really were. It was eight thirty. We'd been hiking for twelve hours. My faulty little piece of shit pedometer said I'd taken eighteen thousand steps and was still only measuring every so often. I'd hate to know how many I really took! I broke out the maps and started adding after we got home and unloaded the car, limping all the way. Twenty two miles. TWENTY TWO. That's a holy shit hike if I've ever done one! Chris could barely move yesterday and he's still limping today. I'm limping, but not from muscle fatigue. I handled it all well. It's this one pain in the arse blister on my right foot causing my limp. It's just in a very uncomfortable place!

We're already talking about when we can do it again. Wouldn't you be?

George in the morning

Checking out nature

No words necessary

Who's Wood These Are, I Think I Know. Or, Where I go when I go.

I've said before that I just feel better when I'm in the woods. That's so much more true than you could ever imagine! The bestie and I have taken to hiking. We started this about two years ago, and a hobby grew into an obsession. Our goal is to one day hike The West Coast Trail in Canada. It's a lofty goal, to be sure, but we want what we want. This is a forty seven mile hike along the coast of Canada, that takes seven to nine days to complete. We're talking ladders, rope bridges, zip lines, mud, sand, rocks, rain, cold and woods, woods, woods. It's not for the light of heart. For now, however, we are taking our weekend forays at Brazos Bend State Park, outside of Needville Texas. 

Every Friday (almost) Elizabeth and I put on our packs and proceed to abuse the hell out of our bodies. Last week was our dumbest move yet. It had been months since we went on a hike, and I guess we just missed it a little too much. That day we hiked seventeen miles. Think about that for a sec. Say you've been planted on your butt for a month and suddenly, one day, you have the opportunity to lose yourself in the woods. And, say you LOVE losing yourself in the woods. Your body is totally unprepared. You're brain shuts off, completely. The phrase of the day becomes "It's just a short trail. We can clear it in no time."  After a while you begin to realize that "It's just a short trail" has become five short trials. Put those together and you have one really long trail. But, hey, you're still good for "just one more". You're an idiot. Like me! By the time we finished our hike we were trudging to the car. I had a hard time finding a bird poo free place on the trunk to hug, but I finally got my "Oh, CAR! How I love you!"s in. We were so worn out that we were flat out rum dumb stupid with laughter. It was great! The next day wasn't so great. I think we would have won a baby giraffe imitation contest, easy. Oddly enough, it only took the next day for us to recover. By Sunday we were fine. Weird. By the next Friday we were stupid again. Just not as stupid. Our moderator, Athena, had a sick one at home and couldn't join us. She won't know until she reads this that we were so planning on using her! If she had been with us, we would have had a time limit. Which means a mileage limit. Without a strict limit, we will keep pushing on. It's unavoidable. So, ten mile hike, here we come! Maybe next time we'll be able to take a brain with us.

Now, this is the weird part. It's what we do on the trails. We don't just walk. Of course we talk. Not a lot, though. There are long periods of nothing but foot crunching between us. Not because we have nothing to say, and not because we are too winded to talk. It's because we are trying to see how quiet we can be when we walk. See, we imagine apocalypses scenarios.Our hikes have become survival planning. We talk about where we would go, how we would get there, what supplies we would need, who would be rescued to come with us and how, and on and on. Not just the usual zombie apocalypse, either. We are planning for ANY AND ALL end of civilization scenarios. Are we weird? Hell yes, we are. But, we're gonna be prepared. Will you?

I absolutely love being in the woods. I can just go away from myself. My mind can wonder to the serene places without being interrupted by...well, by anything. It doesn't matter if I'm coughing and sneezing, limping, aching or nauseated. The peace and beauty take me away from the physical. The crunch of leaves under my feet, the sound of the birds singing in the trees, the animals running through the forest and the wind in the trees are like a lullaby. I don't care about the stresses of money, drama or illness. It's the one place that I can push myself beyond my limits without even realizing that I'm doing it. That's both good and bad. We all need a place to disappear, but, it's probably better to disappear in moderation. I don't seem to know the meaning of the word!

My pack

We have our day hiking packs, and we have our list of things that we have with us on a regular basis. Of course water tops the list. We use camel backs in our packs. I love my camel back, though I have yet to learn how to drink from it without slurping like a pig. It's a disgusting sound that I can't help but laugh at. I'll get the hang of it one day. We have our knives or multitools, snacks, bandages and moleskin, first aid kits, rope or twine, carbiners, compasses, whistles, and media supplies. I have to have my media supplies. On hikes, anyway. I wont be so worried about my camera if the world is ending. But, on a hike, I want my pics! For these day hikes, we are keeping our packs relatively light, though they are heavier than they need to be. I suppose it's our way of training for the real deal. When we get out on a hike like TWC, we'll need to keep our packs at no more than thirty pounds. Of course, we won't be using these particular packs. These are short (our version of short) hike packs. For the week long "you take out what you bring in" hikes we'll have internal framed packs with ultra light gear. It's the only way we'll survive. You have to have a week supply of food, your clothing and regular hike supplies, water and purifiers, camp gear and tent, all on your back. Ultra light is the only way to go. If we think we looked like baby giraffes after that seventeen mile hike, I can just imagine what we'd look like after a week with heavy packs! I'm picturing casts with traction involved.

Elizabeth gator spotting

Honestly, I can't wait for a major hike. I want to be so far removed from all other people that seeing one is like rare bird spotting. I want to escape the drama and pain of daily life, just for a while. So, I go to the woods. Once a week, we get to pretend like there are no other people left, except for us. We get to enjoy nature, the way it was meant to be enjoyed. We can walk in silence and let the Earth sing us into a trance. We can be at peace. That's the most important thing of all. Peace.

Where do you go, when you go away from yourself?

Damn you, Redbox! The worst of the worst low budget movies that tricked me!

Okay, I admit it. I love bad movies. But, even I draw the line. Low budget movies can be absolutely engrossing, providing they're done right. Even done wrong, they can be more than watchable. Maybe it's the nerd in me. Maybe I'm just a weirdo. Who knows? I know I'm not the only one. I've even managed to get the Hub hooked. Here's the problem: In the hunt for a good B movie you will inevitably come across a movie that makes you want to bleach your brain, lose faith in all humanity and go bomb the directors house. I've seen more than my fair share. In my drive to find out what not to do when making a movie, I force myself to watch the worst of the worst, once we discover how bad they really are. It's like watching a disaster play out. You just can't look away, no matter how bad you want to. Now, I'm not talking about movies that some people like and others hate just as a matter of preference. I don't mean movies like Cowboys and Aliens, which I personally like, but some of my friends hate. Nor do I mean movies that are liked or disliked based on genre. I mean those movies that are SO bad that you can't even get the title out of your head, no matter how hard you try. 

Thank God for the one girl who could act scared, then spent the rest of the movie making us want to shoot her.

Example, and this is on the very tip top of my "Please do not subject yourself to this rubbish unless you are seriously researching what not to do" list, is a very low budget movie called Chained: Code 207. All I can say is "facepalm". Written, directed and starring Tino Struckmann, this movie takes the cake. It took four tries to get through the entire thing. There aren't too many movies that leave me screaming at the TV because the acting is so, so, so very bad. From the other room my husband heard "Yes! You stupid bitch! That IS your mark! Stop looking at the fucking camera and TRY to act like you were just rescued! We're you lobotomized for the role, you dopy shit?" ..yeah, I know. I went a little bit off of the deep end on that one. Seriously, though. She's been rescued from a sex slave ring and she's just standing there, watching a fight to the death, the results of which her life depends on, and she's calmly glancing back and forth between the fighters and the camera. The expression was clear: "Is this my spot? Is this where I stand? Am I doing this right?" No, bitch. You're really not! That was one small taste of the entire movie. The whole thing was like that. I think I threw up in my mouth a little. OH! Let's not forget the baggie of human organs! Human...organs...no, dude. You could have pretended to care when you let that piece of shit pass the "art department". I'm so sorry, but a baggie of frozen chicken breasts and fish cutlets looks NOTHING like a human kidney. Poor, poor Tino. He's doing the right thing in one way. The man does have a military background and a history with the sex slave trade. He's trying to raise awareness. So, for that, muy props. I think there are better ways. If you're gonna use you're movies to bring this into the light, you need to make them watchable! Stick to being a stuntman, asshat. As a director, you rate a negative ten.

I asked several people for their input on this one. I can't say I took the answer the Daddy-in-Law gave with a straight face. I thought he was kidding. He shouted, when asked what the worst movie he had ever seen was, "CORNDOG MAN!"  Um....what? I had never heard of this one, and i still haven't seen it. I have seen the trailer. Since it's a Sundance pick, and since the trailer intrigued me, not to mention the Daddy-in-Law's vehement response to this one, I'm putting it on my must see list. If anyone else has already seen it, could you give me some honest input?

One night we all gathered around the TV to watch one of The Asylum's other train wreck, and never stopped regretting it. See, The Asylum pushes quantity over quality, and boy does it show! Out of their over three hundred movies I've seen maybe two that were worth a damn. Nazi's at the Center of the Earth was not one of them. What the hell was I thinking, when I asked the Hub to Redbox this? First off, as spawn number four screamed repeatedly at the TV, the center of the Earth is a little more than five hundred feet down, and your one length of rope is not going to be enough. Second, the Holocaust did not happen in the sixties! Really? Oh...my....idiots! If I were being raped by nearly hundred year old zombie Nazis, I think I might put up a little more of a fight that the dopy fool who just sat there going "ahhhh..nooooooo....help..."  I'd probably sound more like a rabid lion, rhino, gorilla hybrid and need all caps and bold type to put it down in print. If I didn't die of heart failure first. And, if my boyfriend aborted my child, against my will, do use the stem cells for some psychotic experiment, I think he'd have been ripped to pieces no less than five minutes after I woke up. One way to guarantee your movie will suck? Hire Jake Busey. The man is capable of pulling off a good role, no doubt. But the roles he's been choosing blow goats. If you ask him if he wants to be in your movie, and he says yes, you might want to think about doing a rewrite, or ten, or give up. So, where the hell does the robot Hitler and the space ship fit in? Hell if I know. We haven't figured that one out yet. It looks like some complete loon watched a couple of five year old boys play with their little green Army men, space ship toys, dinosaurs (no, there are no dinosaurs in this movie, though it wouldn't have surprised me) and wrote down their entire toddlerific play time, then put his sick spin on it and yelled "FILM IT!" Some people need to be exterminated for our own good.

So, let's move on to American Warships.The acting wasn't terrible. It wasn't great either. It was watchable, if you could make it past the really bad CG. Which, I couldn't. It looked like they made the aliens in paint. And, the frog men? Oh, hell no! Okay, putting water spray in the front to make it look like someone is actually hauling ass in a raft is an old trick. An old STAGE trick. Nothing looked more fake than those guys, water splashing in front of the camera, but no where else, no wind blowing through anything (because we all know that when you're flying along, there is absolutely no sign of movement, whatsoever), talking at normal volume when they shouldn't have been able to hear a damn thing. The trailer is only moderately misleading. Go ahead, risk it.

What is it with knock off movies? Did they think the big budget directors didn't do a good job?Really? Let's look at a short list, here:
TRANSMORPHERS
TRANSMORPHERS: FALL OF MAN
THE DAY THE EARTH STOPPED
AVH: ALIEN VS HUNTER
THE TERMINATORS

Why, yes. Those are all The Asylum movies. You expected less?

What's the worst you've seen?

Attack of the Fifty Foot Drama Troll

C'mon, we all know one. That one person in your life that tries to troll you at every available opportunity. I don't mean the funny "I got you good!" trolling, either. I'm talking about the DRAMA TROLL! He/She attacks you in public, thinking that they're making you look like a fool, when they're really just showing their ass to the world.

Today's drama troll seems to favor Facebook. You've been there. You're having a quasi good day, listening to happy music or playing a game, chatting with a friend or two (or ten or twenty) when in comes some random rude remark. This is an obvious attempt at character assassination. You're having a nice discussion about how pretty the roses your husband got you for your birthday are when you see a comment pop up that looks something like: "You need to stop neglecting your duties!"  What the hell? Where did that come from? This can get a bit annoying when it happens on almost a daily basis. There is a plus side to the drama trolls persistence, however. Their constant need to show you as the villain and themselves as the martyr gives anyone who can see these trolled posts a view into their real personalities. So, if you have a drama troll, take heart! You're friends will soon see them for what they are, and if you're lucky, they'll start reporting the troll as an abusive bully. God, I love the report button on Facebook! I've only used it once or twice, but my friends have been using the hell out of it lately! Troll THAT!

Don't feed the troll! If you do have a drama troll and you're getting sick of the constant attacks, you can ask them politely to stop. If they don't, BLOCK. IF blocking isn't an option, report. Or, just wait for others to get sick of it and take care of the report thing. But, for the love of God, don't feed them! If you take the troll bait and bite, you will find yourself in the middle of a word war that you can never win. They'll continue on and on, forever and ever, amen. If, however, you find the resolve to just ignore or delete the rude comment, they might just go away. You can have one or two bitchy remarks, or you can have an entire thread worth and an argument that ruins your whole day on your hands. That's what your troll wants, you know. Upsetting you makes them happy. They win. How do you win? Learn to shut the hell up and find your happy place. It isn't always easy, but, it can be done!

Those random attacks mean that you've pissed them off with your post. How? Well, it's usually the same. One thing a drama troll can't tolerate is happiness in others. Especially if the happy person is someone they can't stand, for whatever reason. Just by being in a good mood you are pissing your troll off. The key is to try to stay in a good mood even after they've attacked. I've found the Taylor Swift video for "Mean" to be especially uplifting. It fits my troll, and many others out there, to a T! If your troll gets you down, just go watch the "Mean" video and laugh! See, these particular types of drama trolls are miserable people. They are sad, hateful, spiteful, mean, vindictive and/or pathetic. Take your pick. They may fit one or all of those words. Either way, the troll puts their misery off onto you. In her/his mind, it's all your fault, even if you have absolutely nothing to do with it. If your troll is single, "forever alone", in an unhappy marriage or going through a divorce and they see you saying something about how happy your spouse makes you, you can expect it to set them off. Suddenly, you are a worthless bitch who doesn't deserve to live. Why? Because you're happier than they are!

The worst of the lot are the trolls who blame you for every little thing that has ever gone wrong in their entire lives. Those are usually personally acquainted, and know your flaws or weak spots. They will use them, too. This particular troll will snark at you when you are at your best in an attempt to bring you down, usually by bringing up a flaw. The thinking is that if what they are saying has even a grain of truth to it, then they are suddenly the hero for showing your friends who "you really are". Most of the time they will exaggerate their "Truth" or just flat out lie, though. The flaw is that all they've accomplished is showing your friends who THEY (THE TROLL) really are. You're best defense? Don't have secrets, or don't try to cover your flaws. Be honest about who you are and let them flounder. Eminem did it best in 8 Mile. Follow his example. If the people who matter to you already know all about you, then your troll can't really do any damage to you, other than ruin your mood. The smart people among us know that only the pathetic loser will kick you when you're down, or pick on a person they see as weaker. It doesn't mean you are weaker. Actually, it shows that they are the weakest link. The loser falls back on spite and meanness to make themselves feel better. I almost want to feel sorry for them. Almost. Not quite.

Trolls who cause drama by vague booking, or starting crap on their own pages a hardly worth a mention. They're so easy to deal with, it's almost sad. Just ignore them. You know, full well, that those posts are only a cry for attention. Just don't feed them. Admittedly, it can be hard to let such stupidity slide. You are strong. I have faith in you. You can do it!

I guess it all comes down to you. We all have trolls. Sick, sad, mean creatures who will probably be mean forever. How you deal with your troll is what matters. So, "don't feed them" and "find your happy place" is the best advice I can give. Now, if I can just follow my own advice...

Did you marry an asshole?

The Hub asked me to write about what an asshole he is. He's proud of it. I've put this off, because...well...he may be proud of it, but, he isn't going to like some of what I say. Then I realized, the Hub never reads. Like, ever! So, I might be safe. Might. With my luck, this will be the only post he actually takes it upon himself to read. Yay?

What he'll dislike more than anything is that I fully plan on pointing out his NON asshole tendencies. See, he thinks he's this cold soul. But, he likes to hide his soft spot. And there is a soft spot. I mean, besides the one between his ears. <jk, jk...maybe. He's a complete nightmare at times, but show him an injured animal and he turns all mushy. You don't really think I have a zoo at home because I'm a collector, do you? .NO I have a zoo because he keeps bringing me pets to rehabilitate. He gets all sappy about them. Then, they get better and he complains about them non friggin stop. Insert asshat here. That does get a bit on the annoying side. I've learned to dread the sound of a ringing phone when he's out running the roads. It usually means he either hit or nearly hit a critter and he's calling to have me arrange a bed for them. I've seen an injured animal bring him to tears. <He's gonna hurt me for that. He's not a complete asshole. He just likes to think he is.

He's not a complete asshole at all. Sometimes, when he's not playing the softie, he skips straight over to dick. There's a fine line between asshole and dickhead, and the Hub has yet to learn the distinction. Like, when he's driving. If a car gets too close, he slows down, just to annoy them. But he has a temper fit if anyone does the same thing to him. Will he move over and let them pass, the way he complains that cars need to do for him? Oh, hell no! He waits for them to try to pass and then he speeds up. Even if there's oncoming traffic. That, my friends, is a dick move. He'll go ballistic if someone flies past just to whip over in front of him, slow down, and turn. Does that stop him from doing the same thing? Noooooooo. It does not.

 God forbid he should be around someone he doesn't like. He's flat out mean. So many poor fools think he's joking. Yeah, not. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

He's a stingy ass, too. He'll buy a boat load of snack foods and then have a cow if the kids get into them. That one doesn't share. Same with video games. I have to pull rank on him. A game system, or just a disc that he hasn't played in a year, is totally off limits to the ACTUAL kids. Why? "They might break it." Are you kidding me? Let the kids play with kids toys, you ASS! That's what they're for! If we're short a pillow, and he has two, he absolutely will NOT give one up for the kid who's pillow-less. "I can't sleep with just one pillow." *Sigh* This is the point where I give my last remaining pillow up to the kid. I've usually already given up one...or two. He feels bad about it and gives me one of his. Ass. He's getting better about consideration, but only because he knows I'll go without and it makes him feel guilty.

The part of being an asshole that he's proud of is the smart ass comebacks. Ok, I'm more than guilty on that count. If you leave yourself open for a cheap shot, one of us is gonna take it. He gets it naturally. His Dad is just as bad, if not worse. The downside to that is that we don't discriminate. If I leave myself open for a smart ass remark, he WILL make one. I will too. So, fair is fair, I guess. I'm just a bitch like that.

So, what can you expect if you're married to an asshole? Constant frustration, for one. An asshole doesn't believe in a "What's good for the goose is good for the gander" world. They believe more in a what's good for me is only good for me, everyone else can kiss my ass, I'll do as I please and if you try I'll go all two year old temper tantrum on you, leave my stuff alone, what's mine is mine what's yours is mine, get out of my way, the road is mine and mine alone, the rules apply to you but never to me, you suck and I don't, world.

A true asshole has something that they believe is confidence, but, the rest of us recognize as cockiness. They believe they are the best at everything, and no one can do better than they can. I've always thought my Hub fit this category. I've told him more than once that I don't need to compliment him, he compliments himself enough for the both of us. And yet, rarely ever compliments me. I've recently learned that his confidence is easy to shatter. That tells me that it's mostly fake. He fully believes he's a sexy beast. There's no doubt about that. It's in his skills that I've seen him falter. I always thought he saw himself as the best of the best. Since he took his first ever sales job, I've seen otherwise. Holy crap! There's a human under all that snark! He's always dogging his intelligence, which irks me about as much as it irks him when I dog my appearance. Now, I'm starting to see just how down on himself he can be. In this, he fails the asshole test.

Now we come to the PC factor. The Hub has this incredible habit of making me regret going out in public with him. He will say anything to anyone at anytime. I keep telling him he's gonna get us shot. You know you've married an asshole if you wear nothing but red...on your face...and it isn't makeup. If they will shout insults and obscenities that are totally rude and uncalled for in the gas station parking lot, at a little old lady blocking the gas pump, with the windows rolled down., OR If, while taking a midnight stroll around town, your Hub begins chanting songs about his penis, at full volume, in a residential neighborhood, you might have married an asshole. Or a three year old. It's a toss up. Gotta love verbal vomit.  If he discloses bits of your sex life to his parents (his freaking parents!) for the sole purpose of embarrassing you, yep, asshole. If he says "Suck my dick" more often than "I love you" and thinks they mean the same thing, he's a dick. I mean, er, asshole. Yeah, that's it.

How about the liar factor? Dear Mother of Pearl and all things Holy, this annoys the piss out of me! I'm lucky enough to have learned the Hubs secrets when it comes to the phone exaggerator. He doesn't succeed with me on this because I call shenanigans on him every time. I can't tell you how many times I've heard him talking to someone on the phone, late as usual, trying to cover his ass about it. Now, really, just friggin be honest! "Yeah, we'll be there in a minute. Heading out the door now." CLICK. My response? "You lying ass! You don't even have your glasses on yet! Why didn't you just TELL your mom you overslept?" He usually shrugs. So, now, when he says something similar, like "I just left the house."  I usually respond with "Does just left the house translate to I'm almost at the front door?" I'll never understand. Why can't an asshole just be honest about where they are in their journey or how long the trip will actually take? If you're gonna be an hour or more, say so! Don't tell me five minutes when you mean 2 hours! If your spouse does this to you, you got it. He's an ass. Is there some unspoken, asshole code that says to be in the club you have to lie your ass off? Really? My favorites, and by favorite I mean the lies that send me straight to rage mode, are the "Protective" lies. The "I didn't tell you because you'd just stress out, and I don't want you to worry" lies. OMG those piss me off in the worst way. They always come out. Usually when it's too late for you to fix the damn problem. Those lies by omission are covered by more lies. Think about it. "I didn't want you to worry" translates to "I didn't want to get my ass chewed when you found out my latest bonehead move". Seriously.

Look at that hairline! The scrape is from his awesome driving skills.

An asshole will find the things that bother a person the most and point them out, regularly, and to their faces. The Hub does this. He'll pinpoint the one flaw a person has, the one they are the most self conscious about, and use it as a weapon. There are plenty of times I have to reign him in just to keep him from hitting someones weak spot and starting an all out war. He doesn't realize that, though it's hilarious to him, it's not so funny to his target. Plenty of men don't like having their bald spot brought to everyone's attention (I go bitch when he does this by pointing out his own lack of hair), their dunlap belly jiggled to make a point, toothless jokes in front of, well, everyone....yeah. He's bad. Most assholes are. You can usually tell when you have a true asshat on your hands. If they have just made some insulting joke, and you throw one back at them, if they best they can come up with is "Shut up." that's an ass. An asshole will continuously make off color jokes around you, even after you've told them that you don't like it and asked them not to. The Hub is bad about using one word that I hate, though the other word I hate (the see you next Tuesday word), he refuses to use around me, trying not to upset me. Why one but not the other? I'd rather hear the "C" word than have the "N" word used around my kids. He'll refrain from one, but to the other. I just don't get it. But, then, assholes don't normally care who they offend. I count mu lucky stars that he halfway listens. He does know that if I use the "C" word it means I'm truly pissed beyond repair.

The delay. Oh how I love the delay. You've married an asshole if it takes six months or more to do a three minute job. You're better off just doing it yourself. Which, by the way, is what the asshole is going after in the first place! Your only other option is to become a nag. That's also a sign. If you've become a nerve grating nag, you married an ass. It kills me, how they get mad at you for nagging them, and don't get that if they'd just do it the first time, or tell the truth about their intentions to never do it at all, they could have avoided it all. If you say "In a minute." do it in a damn minute. If you don't plan on ever doing it, don't say you will! How hard is that? Apparently, for the assholes among us, it's impossible to be logical. That is logical, isn't it? Follow through or be honest? I'm not exaggerating when I say I have nagged my Hub for no less than six month to do something as simple as move a box downstairs for me.

I have to take a minute to get over the pissy ass mood I've just been put in by something that has to be addressed. Men aren't the only assholes. Or the only dickheads. Women are the worst. I am a bitch. I won't deny it. But I'm not the kind of bitch that regularly pisses off everyone around me. Those women aren't bitches. They're asshat douchbag dickheads. (< I actually had to back up and delete the "C" word there.) Sorry, but you know it's true. A word of advice? If you're a female, don't be an asshole. It gives women all over the world a bad name. In fact, it gives human beings a bad name. Someone who goes out of their way is an...no...they aren't assholes. They're douchknockers. They even give assholes a bad name. Being an asshole, being a bitch, can be funny if it's done right. As in, if it's done out of sarcasm and fun, and not out of spite and meanness. If you're mean, you're just mean. No one likes a mean person. Odds are, if you're a mean person, you don't even like yourself. So just don't. It's that simple.

Okay, he asked for this. I mean, he literally asked me to write this. Whatever comes of it is his own fault. If you want to know if you married an asshole, just take a look at mine. Though, if you did marry one, you already know! Welcome. The wives of assholes club meets online every day at...well...when we can boot the assholes in question off of repetitive games of spider solitaire so that we can collectively bitch about what assholes they are. Tomorrows meeting will cover why we love them. No, really, why?