the Angry Lesbian: editorial edition

We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.
We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.

The following is a true story:

As the day drew to an agonizing end…that is, I had finished walking the dogs x 2, walking parent’s dog x 1, blowing the leaves in their ‘country’ setting home, picking up their trash…

That I later take to my town dump, pick threw it and conquer and divide, materials…recycling, reuse, repugnant!

At the end of the end of my day…a call,

You’ll never believe what I just did

Rather than agonizing you the reader with blow by blow description of said phone call.  One that I took illegally…as I had been driving.

I will tell you the truth as I know it.  And, as I also know, my spouse has long since given up reading my blog and, therefore, I will not be found out!

My life’s partner…my best friend with strange benefits…threw out the stove burners.  Not the covers, that we had just replaced.  Not the inserts that ensure no particles fall into crevices of the great beyond.  Which, by the way, were just recently purchased.

She tossed the actually one and only parts that allow for cooking on a stove-top!

She did however, bake cupcakes, in between…said demise!

Bear with me…I have taken pain killers an am prone to rants and off the cuff remarks…currently.

My spouse, bless her domesticated soul, has begun taking the big marital step called, ‘cooking’.

Some of us can do it.  And, for some of us, it is like getting a license at the age of 30.  We should just have thrown that particular towel in and taken cabs for the rest of our lives.

I think there should be an Angry Lesbian beer.  Yup, that was my thought, after hanging up the phone and attempting to process the how, what and/or wtf, of my partner’s need to clean the stove so thoroughly, parts and particles get tossed out in the mayhem.

This Angry Lesbian beer should be the following:

I don’t ever want to drink again
I just, oh, I just need a friend

Read more: Amy Winehouse – Rehab Lyrics 




a touch of anti-freeze,

as an all natural sweetener.

The anti freeze should not be enough to kill.  Just enough to deter.

The Angry Lesbian beer should smell like patchouli.  Being dark in nature, somewhat nutty!

Which by the way?  What on earth do we refer to the male privates as a pair of ‘nuts’?  It has been awhile but I am sure things haven’t changed that much.  Those ugly things look nothing like any nut I have put in my mouth!

You will soon see how this may or may not go together.

Upon arriving home…

Instead of, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  Too bad it was dump day!

I got

‘Boy, you handled that much better than you used to!’

This is where the Angry Beer comes in.  This is where the ‘I hate myself for loving you..’

comes in!

This is where the guilty lesbian…you guessed it, comes in!

I get the leaving on tampon in the box routine…that is typical of a married lesbian couple.

I get the using the last razor…without buying new ones, situation that I sometimes find myself in.

I even understand

‘I haven’t had a chance to wear that shirt yet!  Please don’t get anything on it!  You know how messy you can be!’

Of course, no one goes out of their way to soil themselves.  Unless they are in a home for stupid people.  And, that fuckin’ shirt had been hanging in the closet for 3 months.  And, that fuckin’ shirt, had been mine originally, I just let her believe she bought it!

We had been asked once by the girlfriend of my spouse’s father…who happens to be very correct and very in tune with strife.  She is a family lawyer!

‘So, will you refer to Megan as, your spouse, your partner or your wife?’

This a question given to me after the combining of one Irish family with another Irish family and making one big Fat Lesbian Wedding!

My first thought than.  My one thought now.  WTF?  Does that really matter?  Most of the time…I just nod in her direction!

I have never been politically correct and I suppose, it is too late to start now!

What gives with the mythology of the Angry Lesbian?

I hate to tell the world.  Only Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls are really angry for no apparent reason.  The rest of us…have plenty of Lifetime movie moments, true and sincere, to which there should be some righteous anger!

In ending, the ‘I Hate Myself for Loving You’ story?  The other time where the need to make an Angry Lesbian beer…came to mind?

After having driven all day and all night just to get from New Hampshire to some alley way in Baltimore;

“I wanna walk but I run back to you…I hate myself for loving you…”

Came banging on the MP3 player.  Jokingly, I said, “I love this song!  It reminds me of you.  Kind of a twisted love song!”

The rest of the journey?  Silent!  All 1100 miles of it.

Someone please invent an

Angry Lesbian beer!

The price for burner inserts?  For a stove that was a double for the stove on the set of the Brady Bunch?  Approximately, $32.00 x four!

Dollar value for love?  Priceless!

Can't break free from the things that you do!
Can’t break free from the things that you do!

Truth of the Heart

Simple Life for Complicated People…or better put, just living life on life terms!

Imagine all the people Sharing all the world...
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world…

Saint Francis Prayer:

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;to be understood, as to understand;to be loved, as to love.

Melissa’s Hopes:

There is no magic
There are no secrets
We all begin this race at the start
But I have come this far
With a truth of the heart

the revolution is now
the revolution is now

Deep down inside
I think we’re all the same
Try not to judge someone
And never shame
I do believe that people are good
They just want hope and respect
And to be understood

Sometimes it hard sometimes it’s strange

But the truth of the heart is people can change

Yes there is danger and there are shadows
And there is fear inside the dark
It has powered countries and borne religion
Fear can never rule the heart

My father’s burden
My mother’s rain
My own desire
My sister’s pain
All souls have traveled along this road
Each one has carried their own heavy load

I'm for Hillary 2016
You ask me for a contribution
Well you know
We’re doing what we can
But if you want money for people with minds that hate
All I can tell you is brother you have to wait

John’s imagery:

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace…

First Class People do it in the light of day

Every Good Lesbian…

Yes I Am
Yes I Am (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A shot in the dark I woke up to find
You had broke all the rules
And you changed your mind
Didn’t I love you good
Didn’t I love you right
Then tell me where are you going
Dressed to kill tonight
Oh this one’s gonna hurt like hell

Answer my prayer and answer the phone
Think twice about it honey
Turn around and come on home
Lover stop lover don’t
Lover stop

Terrorist Captured

Lover lover please

It’s the same old tune
I have sung before
It’s the same old game
It’s just a different score
If there was just one thing

I could call my own
It would be your love
That’s sinking like a stone
Oh this one’s gonna hurt like hell

And they hold you like I want to
And they give you what I want to
And they take it like I want to
And they make it and they break it
Why must you reject me
Why can’t you protect me

There is one or several…I forgot which. No matter, there is an unwritten, not spoken about in large lesbian lingo mixed company, rules of thumb!
Never, ever, never, ever speak poorly of Ellen DeGeneres or Melissa Etheridge to others even if you are being water tortured at a Lollapalooza music fest.
Honestly, I’ve never been one to abide by rainbow rules and I have to get something off my not so voluptuous chest. Ellen is no longer funny! She lost me between the whole white girls can’t dance routine and stumping for JC Penny.
I let that be for now.
Melissa Etheridge? Great gal from Missouri. Can play a six string guitar like nobody’s business. That being said, I have one request:
Melissa, stop with the angry lesbian breakup stories.

Take the song, Lover Please…
Maybe it’s just me but if I saw my partner going out dressed to kill at night she better bring a credit card for the nearest Hotel 6 or Bate’s motel.
Needless to say, after said fictional lover went out to paint the town rainbow and doesn’t have the decentcy to answer the phone…she’d better pack her cat up with her and her grandmother’s needle point of an overly stuffed rendition of a Calico Cat on Crack.
As far as I know, there are  do’s and don’t in any relationship. Way before a sinking feeling happens and the shit literally hits the fan, I would hope any good lesbian has the know how to get out while the getting’s good.

Bring Me Some Water

Ellen Degeneres & Rusty At The Prom

Tonight I feel so weak
But all in love is fair
I turn the other cheek
And I feel the slap and the sting of the foul night air
And I know you’re only human
And I haven’t got talking room
But tonight while I’m making excuses
Some other woman is making love to you

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil‘s got my soul

When will this aching pass
When will this night be through
I want to hear the breaking glass
I only feel the steel of the red hot truth
And I’d do anything to get it out of my mind
I need some insanity that temporary kind
Tell me how will I ever be the same
When I know that woman is whispering your name

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil’s got my soul

Oh, the Devil’s got my soul

Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see I’m burning alive
Can’t you see my baby’s got another lover
I don’t know how I’m gonna survive
Somebody bring me some water
Can’t you see it’s out of control
Baby’s got my heart and my baby’s got my mind
But tonight the sweet Devil’s got my soul

Okay, so now we not only have said girlfriend going out in knock me down fuck me boots but we know point of fact…someone else is making love to her and we are at home with a carton of Riunite Red and a carton of Marlboro Reds.
Melissa has single handedly brought about a new musical genre, Angry Lesbian Leftover tunes.
I’ve seen Melissa recently, somewhere, probably on a Carnival Cruise with Rosie O’Donnell. She is aging like a bad case of chronic herpes.
Probably just me for my lyrical version of a love life is more akin to Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover, however, get your big girl panties on Melissa. Stop your bitchin’. It’s no wonder you can’t seem to hold on to a partner, they’ve probably heard all your songs and decided:
NO amount of money in the world is worth a lifetime of breaking glass and temporary insanity!

Half a Resolution Away

Now that we are closing in on a half a year into New Year’s resolutions or as I like to call it, plans involving guilt and remorse for the year to come: A little review is in order so that we all can move on and place blame on others…where it belongs.

I'm so vain I think that Buddha is waiting for me.
I’m so vain I think that Buddha is waiting for me.

1. Combing one’s hair more than once a day. It had been brought to my attention that perhaps my ‘beautiful blonde hair’ would look even more splendid…if it were not so stringy. This observation came from a sister who makes Tammy Fay look like Melissa Etheridge. Quote unquote, ‘it isn’t that your hair is limp…I just think if you combed it more often it would have more body! Nice, huh? Left handed compliment? Jealousy? Or, just plain old, I know you’re a lesbian but come on do you have to look like one to?
2. I have in my years of traveling through mistakes made noticed that meditation is not quite right or not quite what the Buddha had in mind when chanting a mantra in the woods, walking the dogs off leash and swearing at them repeatedly while threatening to return them to their real mother and father. Occasionally, while learning to be still, near an orphan cemetery in Franklin New Hampshire, while the winds blow the scent of purple through the air and the grass shines beneath my sandaled feet, I digress and forget where I am going. As a little stone Buddha sits covered with a scarf for fall, a knit hat for winter and a pair of sunglasses for spring and summer, I ask to be a better person today than I was yesterday and pray that all animals be kept safe and far from harm to the best of their ability. As I turn from Mr. B and his in the moment breath and take head attitude, I will witness the Beagle/Bulldog that has made my heart his home. He runs with the grace of a drunken toddler through the corn field, smile on his jowl, grace and circumstance do not know his name. And, with the time it takes for me to become grateful for all that I have these words will cross my lips as though spoken through me by another…’Jesus Christ Bogie what the fuck are you doing…you can’t shit on someone’s grave!’

If your cup is full may it be again.
If your cup is full may it be again.

3. My very last of three resolutions and possibly the most difficult to adhere to? Shaving the right leg instead of the left leg first. How stranger? One would think! However, if you are enthralled with the Obsessive Compulsive Gene, you would completely understand that following statement. If one shaves their legs three times a week and starts with the left leg first…the right leg will receive less edge and less accuracy and therefore, be less sleek by design. It is a simple equation really, the blade is dulled by the time it hits the over grown mess on your right side and cannot complete the job as expected for it’s purpose. The same can be said for shaving the left arm pit first…if you get the picture. Switching up the vanity routine can become an awful under taking if you have OCD. For as you begin to dwell in the house of repeated routines that help to avoid chaos…everything will need to be changed. Flossing on the right side first instead of the left. Cutting the overrun mess of toe nails right side first left side second. During this whole adjustment period of attempting to be less compulsive you will find that indeed you are feeding into the wild animal called fanatical just by grooming yourself. It would be best to avoid the bathroom altogether, for it is where OCD originated from!

Going down and sweeping my side of the character defect street, almost half way through the year, one important revelation hit me like the smell of a unisex toilet on a tuna boat…it is far better to be a pauper of promises not quite made than a princess to a village of idiosyncratic bad behaviors kept.

Yes I am

Your Little Secret
Your Little Secret (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In a moment’s haste…Ambien Grace discovers that not only is Melissa Etheridge gay but so are a whole bunch of others!

When the darkness and answers are thin
Lovers come and check out in a hurry
Shallow and hollow again
Come lay your body beside me
To dream to sleep with the lamb
To the question your eyes seem to send

Yes, I am, Mother or at least, I want to be,