Sunday, November 23, 2014

Holiday Rant

Ok.... I'm sick.  Got a cold or something else that is trying its damnedest to kill me so I already felt pretty icky when I saw this ... THING.

The caption beneath the photo said:

"If you're looking for a Gluten Free, Vegetarian Turkey for next week, try this Rice Krispy Treat turkey stuff with M&M's. Everybody's happy."

No, this is not a post about a vegetarian or vegan T-day repast.  Read the caption again.  See it?  No?  Read it again!  See it now?

Argh!  I'm sick!  And here I have to deal with the apparent death of the past tense.  Yes!  It has been gutted.  Ignored.  Stabbed.  Tossed into the "who cares" bin along with the proper use of "then" and "than" and the continued misspelling of "separate" and "millennium."

Enough of this already!  The turkey - if a rice crispy abomination can be called a turkey - is stuffed with M&Ms.  It is not "stuff" with M&Ms.

Well, maybe it actually is stuff with M&Ms.  It's some kind of stuff,  that's for sure.  But not in the context of the irritatingly wrong sentence.  In that context it is stuffed with M&Ms.

Either learn to use the past tense or die.  I'm watching you...  
Yes... I'm watching.... watch......wa......ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzZZZZZ

I was NOT zzzzz sleeping zzzzz

Thanks for your ti....zzzz


Sunday, November 16, 2014

No Rhyme or Reason - Updated

The more I think about things, the more I see no rhyme or reason in life.  No one knows why some things work out and some things don’t – why some of us get lucky – and some of us...

A quote from the film: Notting Hill

Sometimes it just seems like sadness will eat every single one of us alive.  There are days when it feels like some dark monster with huge teeth lurks around every corner and hides in every closet – just waiting for us to step within reach.

Last year, I lost my best friend to a massive heart attack while he was in the hospital.  I’m still reeling over that.  I think I’ll never actually be “over it.”  I have, in my own small way, memorialized him and my memory of him with a framed collage of photographs on my living room wall, a bush full of gorgeous roses (one of which is pictured up there - at the header of my blog), and with a personalized automobile license tag that he once owned.

Anyone who knew him will recognize this tag.  They will know what it means.  They will understand why I want it on my car.

That was last year.

This year…This morning…. I learned that another of my friends just heard that his brother-in-law had killed himself.  No one seems to know why at this point.  So he and his wife must travel and try to take care of affairs that need taking care of.  I do not know the brother-in-law.  But I know grief.  I know grief…

This year….This last week… I learned that one of my favorite people, my dear friend, has inflammatory breast cancer.   This particular type breast cancer is difficult to spot, invasive, and aggressive.  She has only just learned of this herself.  I feel as though I’ve been punched in the stomach.  I can only attempt to imagine how she must feel.

I’ve never known this friend to be anything but upbeat and kind.  She has a good sense of humor and I always feel good in her company.  How many people do you know that you could say that about?  I can’t remember her ever saying anything bad about anyone.

And now this.

I don't begin to know what she has ahead of her.  But if positive waves do anything, she's got them.

I have a rose growing on the East side of my house.  It's gorgeous, but I don't know what its name is.  It was here when we bought the house.  But I love it.  It's soft and spicy and wonderful.  It makes me feel good every time I see it blooming so beautifully.  I am, from this moment on, going to name it "Sandra" - for my friend. 

So dear friends, I return to the beginning of this post:

The more I think about things, the more I see no rhyme or reason in life.  No one knows why some things work out and some things don’t – why some of us get lucky – and some of us...

A quote from the film: Notting Hill

Thanks for your time.
Your time…..  Your time….
Use it well.
Be true to yourself.
Be kind.
Be happy.
Be well.

~ AngelMay ~

UPDATE:  News of my former boss - the best boss I ever had and one of the nicest people you could ever want to know:  He's been fighting cancer.  As soon as he retired, he learned he had cancer.  Now it is in the kidneys.  He will be entering a controlled test group for a new medication in a couple of weeks.  Fingers and toes crossed here that it works.  It is so depressing to see such good people with these horrible problems.  I wish - I WISH - I had a magic wand to wave to banish this disease from the face of the earth.  All of it.  In all its forms.  Forever.

Final Update:  My former boss passed away on the 24th of September 2015.  A sad day for me.  He was a really great guy.  And I thought the world of him.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Reporting In

Time to report in.
It is I - AngelMay!
I thought maybe I should identify myself because I doubt you would recognize me if I didn't.  It all began last October when I was on the verge of diabetes and had skyrocketing cholesterol.  It all started with this book:

And then with this book:

And from these two books and online talks by this wonderful man I began a year-long journey that is not over yet.

As I said, I was on the verge of diabetes and was taking the drug "metformin" and also "lipitor" to lower cholesterol.  I was taking these drugs on a doctor's advice while still eating all the things that got me into that mess in the first place.  I even attended a group sponsored at the hospital for pre-diabetics where I was handed "diet" material that included milk at every meal and meat and cheese and all the things that had put me in my heavy fix.

By heavy fix, I don't exaggerate.  I was on the verge of being competition for a Cincinnati Bengals' linebacker.  So I attended the hospital's program and I tried eating their diet.  It was so much trouble and left a person exceedingly hungry at the same time that it simply wasn't worth it.  Not only that, but as I have learned since, their dietary recommendations simply will not make much of a difference.

Enter Dr. Neal Barnard, stage center.  This man has literally saved my life - though he doesn't actually know it.  His books were straightforward and made so much sense that I was convinced.  I decided to give it a try - which is all he asks.  Just try it.  If you don't like it, you can always go back to eating artery-clogging milk, meat, eggs, and cheese.  But try it.  Just try it for a month or six weeks.  That's really nothing in the long scheme of things.

OK.  I'll try it, I says to myself.  And I did.

I got rid of all dairy products - no milk, no cheese, no eggs.  I got rid of all meat.  And I loaded up on veggies - all kinds of veggies.  And beans.  And grains.  And fruit.  And I didn't have to count anything.  No counting carbs.  No counting calories.  No counting!  PLUS - you can eat all you want. No more rationing portion sizes.  When you eat a vegan diet you can eat until you pop.  You actually won't, but you COULD.  It's the easiest diet on the planet.

When you eat a Vegan diet, you are not actually ON a diet.  There is a difference between being on a diet and eating a particular diet.  "Diet" is also a noun, you know, as well as a verb.  No "verb" diets going on here.  Just the Vegan diet - a whole, easy, healthy way of eating.

So I tried it.  Sincerely.  No cheating.  Just do it.

And you know what happened?  Pounds and pounds and pounds literally began falling off me.  And I was never hungry.  My personal physician sent me for blood tests after I had been eating this way for about 6 months and my blood tests came back NORMAL.

I was no longer on the verge of diabetes.  I no longer needed lipitor to lower cholesterol.  I stopped taking all prescription medications.  The weight loss made me feel lighter and better and able to do things I hadn't been able to do in years - like go for a long walk or a brisk bike-ride.

I recently went into a store and bought some jeans (no way to try them on in this particular store so I guessed at the size).  I bought a size smaller than I used to wear.  Came home.  Tried them on.  They swallowed me up!  I went back and bought two pair.  One the next size smaller and a second pair even smaller than those.  The second pair was the one that fit.  Took the bigger pair back.

And now, my lovelies, that second pair is getting too big for me.  I'm no longer too big for my britches - My britches are too big for me!

I have lost approximately SIXTY (count 'em 1-2-3-4-5-6-7....45-46-47....52-53-54....59-60!) POUNDS!  That's the approximate weight of FIVE full gallons of paint.  Go to a paint store and try to lift 5 gallons of paint.  Dare ya.  They are HEAVY - and that's what I was carrying around with me every minute of every day - everywhere I went - without exception.

All of this has happened in just 12 months of reading Dr. Barnard's books and acting on his advice.  Twelve months.  And I'm not done yet.  I have 15 more pounds I'd like to shed.  With any luck I'll make it by mid-January.

I post this today not to brag on what I have done - but to demonstrate that it CAN be done.  You CAN clean out your arteries.  You CAN lower your cholesterol.  You CAN be healthy naturally - without the horrid (and hair-raising, if you read 'em) side-effects of prescription medications.  It's possible!

I can't praise Dr. Barnard's books - or him - high enough.  His advice works.
I've done it.  You can do it, too.

Thanks for your time...


Thursday, August 14, 2014

Something Is Terribly Wrong Here

There is something terribly wrong in this country.  Well, actually, there are a lot of things wrong in this country but what I want to focus on here is the police.

The shooting, by police, of an unarmed teen in Missouri is just the most recent display of police power gone to the lunatic fringe of our society.  As of this morning, the name of the office who shot him has still not been released.  If anyone else had shot this teen, the name would already be in every newspaper in the nation.

I’m not going to go into the racial aspect of this whole thing – even though I believe it to be a huge underlying problem.  What I am going to talk about are the police forces and officers themselves.

When I was a girl, the police either were plain-clothes detectives or wore regular blue uniforms, neatly pressed and looking good.  These men (mostly men), some of whom were closely related to me, were easily recognizable in marked squad cars and walking down the streets of our town.  They carried  pistols holstered in squeaky, well-cared-for leather and their badges were on full display on their chests.  We thought of the police as our protectors and mediators in disputes.  Sometimes they arrested people for breaking the law.  This was all expected.

Today, a reporter sitting in a McDonald’s at this computer is told that he is trespassing and is pushed and shoved and arrested and carted off to jail by police wearing what can only be described as camouflage military combat gear and carrying assault weapons.  

They travel in packs in armored vehicles resembling hardened military tank-like vehicles.  Their demeanor is that of the belligerent, immature, testosterone-doped, uneducated bully with the unbridled power of the law shielding him.

These combat-ready bullies stay on the edge of anger where the slightest tic can push them over into brutality.  Women are beaten about the head in broad daylight until they are completely senseless and, perhaps, damaged for life.  Teenagers are shot dead in the streets.  Homes at wrong addresses are entered, without warrants, and ransacked.  Peaceful demonstrators are maced and beaten.  Pets are shot dead by these criminal police.

Yes.  I said criminal police.  Who would have thought that, in the United States of America, these type crimes would be committed by our own whose job it is to protect us?  The big question today is, how are these police officers selected for the job?  What kind of scrutiny are they put under before they are handed a weapon and a badge?  What kind of psychiatric examinations are they given to weed out the power-mad bullies among the candidates?  What safeguards are in place to rid the ranks of these bullies once they are already years on the force?  What mindset is it that requires tanks and assault weapons against the very people they are supposed to be defending?

I don’t have the answers to these questions.  But I know this:  our civilian police forces should NEVER look in any way military.  They should not be carrying military weapons.  They should not be driving military vehicles.  They are there – they SHOULD be there – to protect and defend us.  NOT to harass us.  NOT to beat us.  NOT to falsely arrest us.  NOT to deny us our rights.  NOT to shoot our pets.

There are some things really wrong in this country.  And one of the really wrong somethings is our collective civilian police force that has become nearly indistinguishable from our military.

Thanks for your Time

~ AngelMay ~

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Power Undeserved

It has occurred to me that power comes in all manner of disguises.  The President of the United States is the most powerful person in this country and, perhaps, even the world.  This would be an example of earned power.  How much it is deserved, especially to the rest of the world, is debatable, but there it is.  No arguing with the truth of it.

There is the power of parents over children, police officers over citizens, the written word of the law over all of us.  There is the power of education, an earned and deserved power to change lives.  There is the power of money – sometimes earned, sometimes not.

But there is one kind of power which has been extant in the United States since its founding. It accrues to the holder through DNA at birth. It is a power that is unearned.  It is a power that is undeserved.  And it is a power that should never be exercised except in an effort to neutralize it.  And yet, throughout the history of this nation, it has been used as a whip to demoralize, humble, cow, silence, frighten, and otherwise control those without it.  Sometimes it is used to take the lives of those without it.

I’m speaking, of course, of the power that comes to every White baby the day he/she is born.  How this power will be used – if it is used at all – will depend upon the upbringing the baby experiences at the hands of parents who are certainly aware that it exists.  We all know how this has worked out during our short 200+ year history.

“Whites Only!”
“No Coloreds Allowed!”

Even young children have been aware of this power. 
As a very young girl, I was aware of it as I put my dime in and watched it catapult down to the bottom of the little glass box on the city bus and then turned to choose any seat I wanted.  From that seat I watched old black men and women enter and move to the back to take the least prestigious seats into which they would lower work-weary bodies to rest aching bones and feet.

I, a 10-year-old girl who had accomplished absolutely nothing – who had contributed absolutely nothing – could enter by the front passenger door and could elect to sit anywhere at all – because my skin was white.  And, as surprising as it seems, I was not unaware of this.  I knew I had that power.  And I knew it was wrong.  I knew it and I was embarrassed by it.  And, if a 10-year-old can be said to be ashamed of something they had no part in creating, I was ashamed of it.

Those were the days when a person with black skin could not talk back to one with white skin without risking a beating – the loss of a job (which was most likely shamefully underpaid) – and, sometimes, even death.

We have come a long way since those days – but we have not come the whole way.  Not even close.
Today people stand on the border and scream at little dark-skinned children to go home – back to where they came from – We’ve got ours – F-You!  We don’t want you here!  And they screw up their faces into incredibly ugly masks of hate and hold up their misspelled signs all the while believing themselves to be superior.  These are the people on the left side of the photo below.  The ones on the right side were screaming obscenities at a young black girl for the unforgivable crime of wanting to go to school.

Today a black man exercising his right to open-carry a weapon (in states stupid enough to pass such laws) is stopped at gunpoint by police and forced to the ground while a half-dozen police cars come to the scene with lights flashing.

Across town (figuratively) an entire group of white “boys” with rifles slung over their shoulders are approached by a police officer who is laughing and joking with them about “you boys out here scaring people again?”

Latin American boys win a contest within which they built a robot that, shockingly, took a victory from a group of moneyed, privileged boys from MIT.  Later, you find the boys from MIT all have cushy jobs while the young Latin American boys can’t find the money to further their educations – and no job offers were forthcoming – so they turned to cooking, mechanics, whatever they could find.

There is power in the color of white skin.  Unearned power.  Undeserved power.   Power that should NEVER exist.  And certainly power that should NEVER be used for anything but setting things right - fighting for equality for all people until that undeserved and unearned power no longer exists at all.

Thanks for your time.

~ AngelMay ~

Friday, July 4, 2014

A Fourth-of-July Rant

What is it with the Pledge of Allegiance, anyway?  Why can't adults congregate in any capacity without everyone being asked to stand, place hands over hearts, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag?  Yet again.  As though they haven't pledged eighty-two thousand, four hundred, and ninety-seven times already?  Even naturalized citizens are only asked to swear an oath to the nation once.  We take them at their word the first time.  The Pledge of Allegiance is the only oath we are expected to take repeatedly.

Somehow, no one believes we meant it the last time we recited the Pledge of Allegiance.  No.  We have to repeat it - ad infinitum/ad nauseum - to prove our loyalty to this piece of cloth.   Democrats and Republicans alike stand at every meeting and recite it - as though terrified someone from the other party might be watching through the windows and will report our lack of patriotism in the local newspapers if we fail to, once again, mindlessly recite the words.

We've said the words so many times they don't even have meaning any longer.  We've recited it until we've cheapened it.  We've made it some kind of religious chant.  Especially with the words "under God" - inserted years after it was written: words which were supposed to banish the pinko commie boogie-man and which exclude non-believers who are just as patriotic as everyone else but who, now, cannot recite the Pledge without either leaving out the words or being a complete hypocrite.  But who cares about them, right?

And so we stand with hands over hearts - that organ that pumps blood and keeps us alive but cannot feel loyalty and cannot think at all - and say the words:

                 "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Fascist Oligarchy for which" .... er.... "and to the Republic..." (and if you can say THAT with a straight face you will win first prize of a little hand-held American flag on a chopstick that you can wave so all will see that you - YOU - are a great patriot.  (They will also check to be sure you are wearing a flag in your lapel or pinned to your motorcycle jacket.)

Yes.  We stand and recite the words - yet again - as though they somehow wore off since the last time we recited them.  As though we didn't mean it the first eighty-two thousand, four hundred, and ninety-seven times.  We recite the words while all over town there are flags flying unlit at night, faded from the sun, ripped to little shreds by the wind, and completely ignored by us as we hurry to the grocery store to pick up that loaf of bread.  And we pat ourselves on the backs for being such good patriots.

We mindlessly recite the words by rote with hands over that blood-pumping organ when the hand ought to be on our heads.  You know, that rock-hard shell that houses the only part of us capable of patriotism and loyalty - our brains.

Don't misunderstand.  The heart keeps us alive.  But it's the brain that forms our thoughts.  It's the brain that houses our emotions. You cannot live without your heart but you can, apparently, live without your brain.  We have a congress full of brain-dead people who prove my point.  But that's another rant.

We stand and we say the words over and over.  The young in school.  The middle-aged adults in meetings.  And even the old are expected to rise from comfortable chairs to stand on aching feet and joints to pledge again and again - or be ostracized and shunned as some kind of unpatriotic muslim terrorist out to destroy the great nation of the United States.

Don't believe me?  Try not standing next time.  Try just sitting there while everyone else, (without thinking, of course), rises like mindless automatons to go through the motions yet again.

I have pledged literally thousands of times in my long life.  I meant it almost every time.  I say "almost" because somewhere along the line my brain actually began to kick in and I asked myself, "Why am I doing this? I've already done it!  I did it.  I meant it.  And now I'm done.  And I don't have to prove my patriotism to anybody.  It's not a feakin' contest!"

If anyone doesn't believe I meant it, then it's their problem - not mine.  They can do whatever they like.  They can wear the flag - wave the flag - fly the flag.  But only they know if it actually means anything to them.  Only they know if they truly feel that patriotism or if they just use it as a bludgeon against those "others" - easily recognizable as they attempt to cross our borders for a better life - by blocking their path and screaming epithets and waving signs - and the flag - in their faces.

And so, thus endeth the Fourth-of-July rant.  Will you go away shooting daggers at me and those like me who have had enough of this insanity?  Will you go away with a new enemy?  Or will you go away with synapses lighting up new paths of actual productive thought about what it all actually means?  And next time you are asked to stand and - for the hundred thousandth time - recite the Pledge of Allegiance as though you forgot that you already did it - or didn't mean it the last time --, what will you do?  And why?

To quote a dear friend on these blogs:  Thanks for your time.

~ AngelMay ~

Sunday, June 29, 2014

AngelMay's New Wheels!

I gots me some new wheels!  Big old happy dance here:

Creamy beige leather interior.  Lots of get-up-and-go.  Color me happy.


Thursday, January 30, 2014

Breaking News!

Breaking News!  Breaking News!  

We interrupt this blog to announce that absolutely NOTHING Justin Bieber does is breaking news unless he is caught depositing major cash into this author's accounts.

As you were.


New Shoes!

Well, these are not exactly new shoes.  Then again, they kinda are.  You see… I've had these shoes for so long that I can't even remember when I bought them.  But it was years and years ago.  And I wore them and wore them and wore them - until I wore the cork and soles completely out.

During all those years Birkenstock, for some unfathomable reason, discontinued this style - which is the absolute BEST style they ever had.  So I could not buy new ones.

Lucky for me, I know about Birkenstock Express in Corvallis, Oregon, which is where I sent these old, beat-up, worn out shoes to receive new soles and footbeds.  Can't say this was cheap.  But it was less than a new pair of shoes - AND - I still have my wonderful style that I have loved forever.

The only problem now is that I have to break these new old shoes in again.  How long till the footbeds turn black and are fitted perfectly to the shape of my feet?  Only the shadow knows….

If you have an old, well-loved (but almost worn out) pair of Birks, I can heartily recommend the Birkenstock Express.  They have a website.  Go there.  You will be glad you did.

~ AngelMay ~

PS:  Nobody paid me anything to say this stuff.  :)

Monday, January 13, 2014

And Now A Word About...

The Oxford Comma:


~ AngelMay ~

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Grammar/Spelling Lesson #5

Grammar/Spelling Lesson #5:  “Infer” vs. “Imply”

Now this one really drives me nuts.  Somehow people have discovered the word “INFER” as though it just fell like manna from the heavens into their loving arms and they are just compelled to use it to show how smart they are.  The only problem is that 9 times out of 10 they are using it incorrectly.

If someone is screaming at you at the top of their lungs and jumping up and down while their face turns red, you might INFER that they are angry with you – or, at the very least, pretty upset about something.  This is because their behavior has IMPLIED as much.  Their behavior did NOT infer it.  Their behavior IMPLIED it.

I often scream and jump up and down when someone says something like, “The data INFERS that we should watch the bottom line a little closer.”  First of all, I can’t stand “bottom liners.”  Aside from that, I scream and jump up and down because “data” cannot infer anything.  Ever.  Data has no brain with which to think and, therefore, no ability to think.  Well, except for Data on Star Trek – but that’s another post entirely and since he’s an android...  Well, you get my drift.

In fact you can never know what someone else has inferred.  Unless, of course, they tell you.  And “things” and “situations” cannot think or reason so they cannot INFER anything.  Ever.

Only a sentient being – like you – can INFER (make a conclusion about) the status of a given situation based upon the information you receive through one or more of your senses.  But aren’t you just the talented one?  Not only can you INFER (conclude) what’s what based upon received information, you can also IMPLY (indirectly suggest) a particular status of something to others by your body language, your actual language, and/or your actions.  From your actions, those others might INFER (come to the conclusion) that you are angry, sad, happy, or just nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake.  Because your demeanor has IMPLIED as much.  But unless they tell you, you will never know what or if they INFERRED anything at all from what you IMPLIED by your words or actions.

So what?  So never allow anyone to INFER that you are a fruitcake based upon what your words or actions IMPLY.   That’s what.

Correct:  His shifty eyes and many lies IMPLIED (suggested) his guilt.
Correct:  I can INFER (conclude) that he is guilty based upon his behavior.
Correct:  I will never again mess up these two wonderful words because AngelMay has IMPLIED that she will shoot me with a spitball – twice – if I do.

~ AngelMay ~

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Spelling/Grammar Lesson #4

Grammar/Spelling Lesson #4:    “Then” and “Than”

Listen up!  Those who do not learn this one will be shot.  Survivors will be lined up and shot again.  Twice.  With licorice spitballs.

There is a HUGE difference between the words “then” and “than.”  HUGE.  BIG.  ENORMOUS! 

“Then” refers to a period of time.  “Then” = “at that time.”
“Then” also can mean “in that case.”

“If it doesn’t rain, THEN (in that case) we will go on a picnic.”
“If AngelMay shoots me, THEN (in that case/at that time) I will call the police.”
“The police THEN (at that time) may actually show up to save me.”

“Than” is generally used as a comparison or a contrast. 

“I like the blue one better THAN the red one.”
 “An elephant is bigger THAN a mouse.”
“Getting shot by AngelMay is easier THAN I thought it would be.”

NEVER put the word “THEN” in any of those sentences – or you will be shot, drawn, and quartered – not necessarily in that order.  Calling the police will not help you.  Because by THEN I will have reloaded rather THAN waiting around, aimlessly, to be arrested.  So don't make me have to do this. I hate licorice!

So there you have it.  If you learn this, THEN I will be very happy with you.
And I’d much rather be very happy with you THAN unhappy with you.  Got it?

High Five!  Fist Bump!  Butt Bump!  Smooch!

~ AngelMay ~

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Grammar/Spelling Lessons 1 - 3

Listen up!  This is important and will be on the test!

Grammar/Spelling lesson #1:

There is no "E" in Grammar.  None.  Nada.  Zip.  Zero.  NO "E"!  At all.  Ever.
If you put an "e" in "grammar" then you are an evil person and will always fail the test.
"E" is for Evil.  Bad.  Not good.

So don't EVER put an "e" in "grammar".  Period.  End of lesson.

Grammar/Spelling lesson #2:

There is no such word as "alot."  This word does not exist.  It has never existed.  And if I have my way it will never exist.  EVER.  What the heck, anyway.  How do people come up with these things?  Alot?  Does this rhyme with "ballot"?  My eyes are rolling around in my head.

It is "a lot" - not "alot" (which does not exist or have any meaning other than that the writer doesn't have a clue.)

Correct:  I have a lot of money.
Incorrect:  I have alot of education.  (Not correct in either sense.)

People see what you write.  Please let them know that you have "a lot" of education and good sense.  This will be on the test that you will be unaware you are taking.  Please do not fail.

Grammar/Spelling lesson #3:

There is no "E" in the middle of the word "separate."  Ever.  So don't put one there.  Ever.
If you do, then you are once again Evil.  The word is SepArate.  Now go write that 10 thousand times until you have learned it and never again stick that evil "e" where the awesome "a" should be.

~ AngelMay ~