I am always appalled by the vile acts committed in the name of Christianity. In fact the older I get the more I grow to despise those who try to force their view of morality on other. My experience with religion is that the ones who protest the loudest are almost always the ones hiding their own dirty secrets.

There is a group of "Baptists" who travel to the funerals of fallen soldiers and carry signs that say "Thank God for dead soldiers." The group, from Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka Kansas, claims that you “shouldn't fight for a country that's given over to perversion and sin.” I think we should gather all these losers up and send them to live in a "less tolerant" country.

Have you ever noticed that the good things in life always seems to have strings attached.

For example:

I was all excited about my new laptop that arrived today because it's much faster than the ancient (TR) reject I've been working on for the past 4 years; however, it's taking me longer to complete anything because half the programs are not working correctly and I am having trouble using the wider screen and keyboard.

I was so excited about going to the Farmer's Market this past weekend because I bought all kinds of great fresh foods to eat; however, today I found out that I'm having a surgical procedure on Thursday and I must be on a liquid diet for 2 days and may have to eat soft foods for a few day after.

When I woke up this morning I decided that I was not going to waste another day doing stupid stuff around the house. The high today was 85 with a light breeze so I wanted to be outside. I made H3 get out of bed and we drove into Raleigh to the Farmer's Market.

I love that place. Hundreds of farmers line the covered pavilions and offer item that they pick fresh each day. The selection of fresh fruits and vegetables is amazing and the way the place smells is heavenly. I usually end up spending hours there because it's so hard to choose. Each farmer offers fresh fruit and vegetable samples to try and lure you to their table.

You can also sample goat cheeses, fresh breads, honey, baked goods and more. Vendors also sell fresh seafood, bouquets of fresh cut flowers and thousands of varieties of perennials and annuals at unbelievable prices. The only downside is that we never have enough room to bring back everything I want.

Today I had to decide between two-gallon sized azaleas for $2 each or full size hostas for $3 each. I eventually bought10 hostas, along with eight tomato plants, several types of basil plants and Kentucky mint.

We also bought a flat of strawberries, asparagus, squash, tomatoes, rosemary/garlic goat cheese, loaf of sourdough, sweet potatoes and fresh herbs.

Our final purchase was four different types of cactus for our little boy. He's had several Venus Fly Traps that failed survive and a Bonsai that's on its last leg. Hopefully the cactus will fare much better and satisfy his desire to have his own plant.

Even though the place can get crowded (especially on a holiday weekend) it's worth the drive. The crazy thing is that all the farmers are from the county that I live in, but they drive to the Farmer's Market in Raleigh because that's where the money is.

In a couple of weeks I am going to go back and get two dwarf citrus trees and anything else that catches my eye. I love living in a place were you can grow almost anything.

Wasn't Idol a Thriller tonight. I can't believe I saw Prince, Paris and a Michael Jackson look-alike all on the same show. Ba-Da-Bomp!

I recently experienced an event that changed the way I view the world. I no longer see the good in people; I only see a society of individuals who are full of shit.

I was determined that I would never speak of this incident, but a recent post by Devil with the Green Eyes made me realize that sharing your horror can actually be cathartic.

It all started last Monday. It was a normal day full of mundane tasks. As the workday neared its end I emerged from hibernating in my office to get a breath of fresh air. I headed for the building's front door when my assistant stopped me to say that there was a smell coming from the hall and a visitor just mentioned that there was a problem in the men's bathroom. The assistant said she was going to check it out when I stopped her.

Foolishly, I was in the mood to play the role of "thoughtful boss" so I told her I would take a peak. I slowly crept down the hall not knowing the terror that lay behind the men's room door.

As I pushed the door open, a horrendous smell seeped through the crack, but I was determined to forge ahead, held my breath and entered. The sight was indescribable and like a scared child, I turned and ran.

The assistant recognized the look of terror on my face and asked "What in God's name did you see?" I tried my best to explain the crisis we were dealing with, but the politically correct words escaped me and all I could say was "you won't believe this shit."

My assistant then told me about the man who had been in the restroom for more than 30 minutes. At one point, his wife went to the bathroom door and asked him if he was okay. She then looked at my assistant and said "I told him not to eat so much at that buffet." Finally the man emerged and said to the wife, "Come on, we need to go."

So here I was, solely responsible for plunging the toilet and cleaning up this man's shit. If you have never seen a toilet so full of shit that it displaces all the tank water then you can't imagine what it was like.

My family and friends may be wondering how I survived the experience due to the fact that I gag (okay, actually vomit) at the site or smell of any body fluid. All I can say is, it wasn't pretty. With each push on the plunger, a smell that was worse than death would emit from the toilet region.

And to make matters worse, I was uncontrollably retching, trying desperately not to add my own vomit to the mix. After several minutes I had to escape into the hall. Standing there looking terrified, my assistant asked if I was going to be okay. That's when I realized that everyone in the building could hear my every gag and retch.

I assured her that I was not going to retreat and after finding a scarf to tie around my face, I headed back in. When I say that the water in the bowl had been displaced by feces, it's not one of my usual exaggerations. That's why I got the stupid idea that flushing may improve my plunging effort. Have you ever watched toilet water continue to rise until the water is at the rim and threatening to overflow? Well imagine this site with 20 pounds of shit mixed in.

I frantically started to jiggle the handle until the turds flowed over the toilet sides and started to head for my shoes. I immediately dropped everything and ran like the wind. As soon as I hit the hall I was spewing four letter words as faster than the toilet could flow. Not knowing what else to do I called a male member of the Board of Directors for advice. His response was "Go buy a mop." I hung up the phone but not before I exclaimed, "you don't pay me enough for this shit." I told my assistant that I was off to buy a mop, wringer bucket, gloves and disinfectant and advised her to lock up the building and go home.

Once I was in the car I called my husband and cried like a baby. During the conversation I must have said "I didn't go to college to clean up some man's shit" more than 10 times. H3 was very supportive and even offered to come down and clean it up for me. Relieved, I agreed that his offer was a good idea. (Okay I suck)

About that same time the heavens opened up and torrential rain and marble size hail began to fall. As I was waiting for the storm to pass my cell phone rang. It
was my assistant and she was frantic. It seems the handle on the toilet had stuck and now water and shit were flowing down the hall and out into the main gallery. She explained that she went down the hall to try and get to the tank shut-off valve, but after she peeked into the men's room and saw turd filled brown water and toilet paper swirling around she turned and fled.

She apologized for being a coward but then said that she had heard me tell the board member that they did not pay me enough for this shit and if that was true, she definitely did not earn enough to wade through shit. She had a valid point.

We called a local commercial cleaner who came out and soaked up all the water and shit but left without cleaning the leftover residue and smelly film. So for three hours I moped and sanitized (sevral times) that nasty-ass toilet and all the tile floors in the place. The worst part was when I lifted the toilet seat (wearing my new industrial-strength rubber gloves) and there were approximately 15 marble-size turds still stuck to the seat.

During the cleanup Mateo called to discuss a project we were working on. As I explained to him why we needed to reschedule our meeting there was a long silence.. After what seemed like minutes he began to laugh hysterically. In between his cackles he apologized and said he had tried to hold his laughter in but couldn't. Then he flung remarks like "just think how great this will look on your resume" and "you can tell this story during you next job interview when asked what challenges you faced in your previous job."

I am not sure how (I think I have blocked it from my memory) but I finally got home just before 10 pm and began to drink. The next morning I had the same cleaners shampoo and sanitize all the carpets and strip and rewax the tile floors.

I now have this fear of the men's bathroom and the danger that lurks within. I'll take the snake any day.

I'm sure many of you are wondering where I have been. The Kentucky Derby, of course. The best part was that I was able to get credentials for Megmonster this year. It was exciting to watch her experience the Derby for the first time. On Friday, after spending the day at the Oaks, we went shopping and found her an awesome Derby hat. She looked so great.

I couldn't get her a millionaire's row sticker, so I went down to the 4th floor and got a few celebrities to wave up at her. Gilbert Godfried was wearing a jockey uniform and he is a riot.



I have met many celebrities over the years but I must say that John Hensley from Nip/ Tuck is one of the nicest I have ever met. Also, his favorite romantic movie is "Say Anything" and it's also one of Megmonster's favorites. If Megmonster did not already have such an awesome BF (dude guy) I would have tried to fix them up.

The best part of the weekend was when we swiped a 3-foot, 45 lb chocolate replica of the twin spires for Bradley's graduation party. We put it in a garbage bag and I made Megmonster carry it out. Dude guy thought it was a cool stunt; however Megmonster responded that, "Yeah it seems cool, unless it's your mother doing it."

Sunday was Bradley and Steph's graduation party. Bradley's BFA exhibit was incredible. Sometimes I find it hard to believe I birthed something so talented. After the party Megmonster took me to meet Dude Guy for the first time and the only place open that late was the Steak N Shake.

Noodle was also with us and I (forgetting that he listens to everything) mentioned that our waiter was the same one from the biscuit incident. Later, Noodle (he's just seven) said to the waiter "My mom told us about you."

The waiter (who is from Sudan) had a strange look on his face and responded, "she did?" to which Evan responded "Yeah about the biscuit."

I had no choice but to explain what he was talking about. All the waiter said was "Yes I remember." He probably went in the back to spit in our food.

The only downside to the trip was that I never got to see Twinkie.