Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Don't Let Mother Know


I knew before my children were born that I wanted to be the kind of mother that they could trust, one who would tell them the truth. I never talked “baby talk” to them and always tried to judge what age appropriate information for them was. I also never would assume that, “Not MY child! My daughter/son would NEVER do that!” Parents like that are just fooling themselves. Why do they think their kids won’t do the same or worse than they did?

Sometimes my philosophy worked very well. When my daughter was about the age when she was figuring out Santa and the Easter Bunny weren’t real guys, I told her that when children become a certain age that Santa and the Easter Bunny let mom, dad, older brothers and sisters, take over the duties that they performed for the smaller children. I further told her that was the way we could always keep the magic of Christmas and the fun of Easter going forever. Now that she was getting older it was a big responsibility to keep the secret going and help Santa and company. She LOVED it! She talks about it to this day. I was Queen Mom with that pearl of wisdom..

Other times the honesty didn’t work quite so well. Like the time we were watching “Carrie.” My daughter was about 9-10 years old. When the “shower scene” came on, she asked me what was going on. I went into great detail about a girl becoming a woman, having children, the responsibility of safe sex, yadda, yadda, yadda. My daughter never made a sound. I was thrilled she was hanging on my every word. When I finished, I asked her if she had any questions. She said, “Yeah. What’s for dinner?” I chalked it up to a fail but figured at least I planted a seed

I treated my son the same way. I did request that Mulder take over the actual “sex” talks with him. My son became aware of his penis very early in his life and like all men, it became his BEST friend. Since my son was five years old, he has never let me see him naked. I sent Mulder in a couple times over the years to check and make sure his junk was okay, in proper order, etc. Mulder did this with much anguish and I think the last time I did this, my son was about 15. After his father had asked him the torturous questions, my son stormed out of his room and told me that his plumbing was fine, did what it was supposed to, and worked correctly and to STOP HAVING HIS FATHER CHECK ON HIM!!! He further informed me he knew about sex and how to protect himself and any future girlfriends. “Jeez, MOM!” Those were his last words on the subject.

So, I let them come to me with questions. I answered honestly and as the years went by, the questions about sex became less and less. They still come to me with questions about a variety of subjects but never sex. My job on that topic was over. They both had been told about birth control, pre-marital sex, virginity, oral sex and so on. Whew!

Now that you know I was always up-front with my children about everything. And I do mean everything, imagine my surprise when I found out *I* didn’t want to know EVERYTHING about them!

On a recent evening, Mulder and I were going out to dinner. My son was in his room. He usually has the door closed and locked. I went out to the car while his father went to ask him if he wanted to join us. When Mulder came out, he was laughing. I wanted to know what was so funny. Mulder, bless his sick little heart, told me.

Apparently our son, my sweet little baby boy, was jerking off to internet porn! His door was locked but not closed tightly and when Mulder knocked, the door opened. Mulder (I would have paid money to see the look on his face) was confronted by the sight of wild monkey sex on the computer and his son wanking away blissfully.

My appetite was gone, some things a mother doesn’t want or need to know.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

History of A Dust Bunny, Part I


There are reasons behind the non de plumes I’ve chosen. Although there are two specific reasons for the name, nitebyrd, one of them is basically the same for Dust Bunny.

I’ve been using nitebyrd for several years on many different message boards and as a screen name. My initial inspiration for the name was Alison Steele the original Night Bird. She was a disc jockey for WNEW in New York during the ‘60’s and ‘70’s when FM stations were new and cutting edge. Alison was beautiful. She definitely didn’t have a face for radio. And she was a WOMAN, playing rock & roll. Alison was my very first girl crush. I can still hear her voice in my head, opening her show ~

“The flutter of wings, the shadow across the moon, the sounds of the night, as the Night Bird spreads her wings and soars, above the earth, into another level of comprehension, where we exist only to feel. Come, fly with me, Alison Steele, the Night Bird, at WNEW-FM, until dawn.”

Alison Steele died in 1995 from stomach cancer.

The second reason for nitebyrd is that a night bird is something your don’t see all the time. Night birds are stealthy and usually hidden. You can hear them but rarely see them and when you do, they aren’t clear. They are shadowy and secretive. Night birds are virtually invisible.


Dust bunnies are everywhere but are also usually hidden. Invisible. Insignificant. But dust bunnies are made up of many things, they are complex. However no one really ever thinks of what makes up a dust bunny and most people will not seek a dust bunny out. They are ignored, forgotten and left alone. Unless company is coming then they are sought out and tossed away. Dust bunnies always come back, they’re survivors. They survive by being insignificant, quiet, out of the way and invisible most of the time.

So, my dear readers and friends, are you sensing some of what and why a Dust Bunny in the Wind is?

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Penis Envy



by Uncle Bonsai

If I had a penis I'd wear it outside
In cafes and car lots with pomp and with pride
If I had a penis I'd pamper it proper
I'd stay in the tub and use me as a stopper
If I had a penis I'd take it to parties
Stretch it and stroke it and shove it at smarties
I'd take it to pet shows and teach it to stay
I'd stuff it in turkeys on Thanksgiving Day

I'd rival my buddies in sports cars and stick shifts
I'd shower my spire with girlies and gifts
I'd peek around corners
I'd aim at my toilet
I'd poke it at foreigners
And soap it and oil it

If I had a penis I'd run to my mother
Comb out the hair and compare it to brother
I'd lance her, I'd knight her, and my hands would indulge
Pants would seem tighter and buckle and bulge

A penis to plunder, a penis to push
Cause one in the hand is worth one in the bush
A penis to love me, a penis to share...
To pick up and play with when nobody's there

I'd sit like a guy, I'd straddle the chair
I'd play with my fly, albeit with care
I'd dip it in chocolate; I'd stick it in sockets
Go to the movies with hands deep in pockets
I'd stick it in vacuums on vacant verandas
Gas-guzzling bottles and poodles and pandas
And puddles and drain pipes and doggies and ditches,
Pool halls and potholes and bottles and bitches...

Zucchinis and zebras, tomatoes, tomatoes,
And pineapple pumpkins, and gulches and grottos,
And melons and marshmallows...

Gloves and gorillas
Slurpies and slippers
Chinooks and chinchillas...

If I had a penis, I'd climb every mountain
I'd force it on females
I'd pee like a fountain...

If I had a penis I'd still be a girl,
But I'd make much more money and conquer the world.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Shall I Lie on The Couch?

lucy - psychiatrist is in
I've decided to go back and see a therapist. I'm having some ISSUES!

So, tell me ... would you like to read about how I became a dust bunny/nitebyrd along with all my date, Mulder, son, daughter, dog, I-hate-people, funny pictures, oddball news, stuff? Maybe it will help with my head shrinking. I'm not going to do a poll, I want you to tell me, Yes or No and why.

Yeah, I'm a bitch.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Thank you, Ron!






Ron, author of the funniest blog, *VENT*, had given me a lovely award. I'm very honored when I'm given an award. I'm especially proud of this one. Thank you again, Ron. You are such a sweetheart.


I like awards. I think they are fun and a great way to show appreciation for someone's hard work. So, I decided to make an award for all my fantastic readers and other bloggers that always give me inspiration, make me think, make me laugh or cry and just make my world a better place.


Here you are, you amazing bloggers - The Dust Bunny in The Wind Award. I hope that you'll accept my award and display it proudly.



Thank you all! MMMMWAH!

**********

Oh! I've also been tagged x 3! Whew!



Phil from "Guilty Pleasures" tagged me first. It's a relatively short one. Too short in fact. The idea is to sum yourself up in 6 words.


PACKAGE UNDER PRESSURE. OPEN WITH CARE!


That's about it. I've got to tag 5 more people. Hmmmm ..... who shall it be?


Trublmaka from RESTLESS RAMBLINGS

John-Michael from Just BEing John Michael (He is one of the 3 taggers, so I'm returning the favor. LOL)

Indigo from Indigo





The not so Fat Controller from Northern Nights and Sleepless Nights



If I've duplicated anyone, sorry - just do another description. It's only SIX words, for cryin' out loud!


Tuesday, April 15, 2008

PAR - TAY!!!



Last Thursday, you might have felt the earth shift slightly on its axis. Thursday was when approximately 1,600 women descended on New Orleans to participate in the Slumber Parties National Convention. We came by planes, trains and automobiles to learn more about our business and party in The Big Easy for four days. The estrogen in the air was palpable. Poor New Orleans! The town is still trying to recover from the effects of another loud, brassy, bold, wild woman – Katrina. And now it’s hit with Slumber Parties distributors from all over the world! Slumber Parties does not allow men to be distributors but some men were in attendance with their distributor wives, girlfriends and/or significant others. Those men may never be the same.


As you know, Delta Airlines lost my luggage. I had a brilliant costume for the Thursday night Welcome Party. The theme was “Las Vegas.” I was going as The Devil. Seriously, Vegas HAS to have The Devil somewhere, right? I mean, c’mon – you can smoke EVERYWHERE in Las Vegas. If that doesn’t tell you that Satan is there counting souls, what does? Anyway, I had a fabulous leather lace-up corset, a slinky long black skirt, red fishnet thigh-highs, red fuck-me-pumps with gold heels and red leather pierced devil horns, all packed and ready to stun my fellow convention goers. I damn near wept when 7:00 pm came ‘round and still no luggage. My amazing costume was not to be worn. ACK!!!! A friend whom I traveled with, whose luggage was also lost, decided we should drown our sorrows with free drinks at Harrah’s and gamble. So, we took off. We hit the 2 cent slots, drank girly strawberry daiquiris’ and pissed away 10 bucks on the one-arm bandits. A good time was had by all and my sadness at not being able to zip my tits up in soft leather for the night was almost gone by the 4th yummy daiquiri. (Mulder was sick this past weekend so once again I couldn’t get all gussied up for a picture to show y’all. We’ll attempt it again this coming weekend.)



I’m not going to bore y’all with descriptions of my classes or the banquet. I will tell you we are introducing some awesome new vibrators and lingerie as well as many other hot products. I want to be able to make a living doing this because it’s so much fucking FUN!!!

So, my friend tells me she didn’t get to go all over Bourbon Street last year. Can you believe it??? Friday night after the banquet (two words – ELF FOOD!) we got ourselves out of formal wear into some comfy clothes and shoes to head off to the hottest little street in Louisiana. Our first stop was Tropical Isle to get a Hand Grenade. I don’t even want to know what’s in ‘em. They are delicious and powerful. Perfect! We hobbled down Bourbon Street taking in the sites and trying to avoid all the local cons. One is the “Let me shine your shoes.” This is where some random person gets all up in your space and sprays some shit on your shoes then wipes it with a dirty rag. They want $20.00 for this. (In their fucking dreams!) Don’t even give them a bill larger than a one because you ain’t gettin’ change. Another is the “free” hat scam. We managed to not encounter any of the usual tricks. We done good! Now, I couldn’t pass Pat O’Brien’s without introducing my friend to the famous Hurricane. So, I didn’t. Fortified with a Hand Grenade and Hurricane, we went in and out of shops, had card readings done and just had an all around fabulous time. I got my Prosperity and Healing candles is a cramped but fascinating shop. One of the owners gave me the name of an excellent Chinese massage book and tried to sell me the most exquisite handmade mask. If I had won more on the slots, I would have bought it in a NY minute.



I decided that my lone Hand Grenade needed a couple friends. If you keep your “souvenir” glass, they knock a buck off refills. What a fucking deal! Even though Mardi Gras had come and gone, tossing beads to people on the street is apparently a year round tradition. My friend and me yelled up to the bead throwers frequently. When they asked to see our tits, I politely told them that they really didn’t want to see antique tits so just throw the damn beads. They graciously tossed down enough beads to decorate our bodies with scads of glittery plastic. Not that I have anything against tit flashing but my girls are always harnessed. It’s not really easy to haul up the shirt and bra quickly so I just leave it to the young, perky and free.

Since I was staying in a room with three other women, picking up men wasn’t on my agenda. One of the ladies in my room did snag one. I was back in the room after 4 Hand Grenades and some exquisite barbeque to get ready for bed when in tumbles one of my roommates with a gentleman in tow! Imagine my surprise when I needed to get rid of some of the Hand Grenades and they had decided to see how sex in a bathroom would be!!! Holy Hell! It’s 3 o’clock in the morning, I have to pee like there’s no tomorrow and the only toilet in the room is rockin’ to beat the band. I quickly go down 9 floors to my friend’s room and use their potty. They were very nice about me waking them up and all.



Saturday morning, my friend and I decided to cut a class (Ooooo! So High School! LOL) and go to Mother’s for breakfast. Mother’s is just to fucking die for! I just love Mother’s. Of course, one breakfast will clog every artery in your body but it’s so worth it!

Other high-lights of the trip were:

A WWE movie being filmed on Canal Street. They must have crashed a car and trolley car about 5 times. Residents and tourists alike were not too happy about traffic, foot and vehicular, being stopped numerous times during the four days. I must tell you, watching a movie being filmed is about as interesting as watching paint dry.


Sitting next to a church-going, Sunday go-to-meeting dressed, Bible carrying lady in Harrah’s as she won over $300 on the 2 cent slot machines. She had no idea what she was doing (neither did I for that matter) but she was praising Jesus, New Orleans, asking me questions, and sucking down free rum & cokes like The Rapture was the next day. I laughed so much my sides hurt the next day.

Giving a tipsy but tasty young man a light in the middle of the street and being told that he “just adored older women …” I gave that boy some beads and a kiss on the cheek.

Singing, at the top of our lungs, “Dead or Alive” with a very good live band at Bourbon Cowboy. Then trying to dance!
It was a good trip. Both business and personal wise. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama costal regions are still suffering the lingering effects of Hurricane Katrina. It’s going on three years since this horrible natural disaster devastated the areas. We saw so many homeless – men, women and children, on the streets, in the parks and living in tents under I-10. Having lived through several hurricanes, none as severe as Katrina, but still not good; seeing this city torn apart and still not put back together after all this time is difficult. Just in case you feel inclined HERE is a link to various Hurricane Katrina charities.

My next Slumber Parties trip may be to Baton Rouge for more training in the fall. I’ll keep y’all posted.

May every one of you get your fill of Beignets and Café au Lait soon!

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Mother of All Dust Bunnies!

humorous pictures

Thanks, Magnus!

If y'all don't visit I CAN HAZ CHEEZBURGER and I HAS A HOTDOG every day, your life is incomplete!

Monday, April 7, 2008

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig!

Good morning, all! I've made it home from "The Big Easy!" I had an awesome time, learned a lot, met way too many people, drank a few Hurricanes and even more Hand Grenades. I bought some fabulous new lingerie to sell, learned about new products and generally had fun. I also ate a Krystal burger. Oh! My! Fucking! God! They are HORRIBLE!!! I don't think they can even be classified as food. Take my advice, don't EVER eat at Krystal's.

Anyway, I'll probably be catching up on your blogs and will post a bigger report with some pictures (no nekkid ones, unfortunately) and I never got to wear my costume because fucking DELTA AIRLINES lost my luggage!!!!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez, y'all!