Posted by: anniewilson | March 17, 2010

Tim, the beef jerky guy

Hi y’all!

It’s finally warming up in Socal so I guess I’ll be bitching about the heat soon. I think this week is our spring so I’ll try to enjoy it as much as possible before the oppressive heat moves in for the foreseeable future.

I was hired to pen a blog about beef jerky and after some initial concerns about what I could possibly say about the cured meat of choice at 7-11, I decided that anyone with a mouth like mine can discuss anything…and beef jerky seemed innocuous enough. I doubt that I can get into too much trouble writing about beef jerky although if I REALLY REALLY wanted to, I could probably manage it. I just don’t want to because there are far too many things that I’d prefer to get all caustic about rather than beef jerky.

Yesterday I wrote my first beef jerky piece and if you’d like to read it, here it is:

I’d love to stay here and catch up but I really, really need to get tomorrow’s post done and I haven’t considered how to bring beef jerky into a blog chat. But worry not…I shall.



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Posted by: anniewilson | March 7, 2010

I’ll be a bad day for James Cameron

Today I have sent…

…my own personal minion into the Academy Awards. I dispatched him with with an evil hex that will result in The Hurt Locker winning the Best Director’s Award. It’s a hex that I send from ex-wives everywhere and one that also possesses a benign yet malicious intent towards James Cameron and cheating husbands everywhere.

The men of Hollywood are excellent at one thing…creating ex-wives. In this town, ex-wives vote in the Academy. So, because of ex-wives and other victims of lying men…I predict a strong showing for The Hurt Locker. I also predict that Cameron is in possession of a well rehearsed, “should she win” face. I doubt he’ll pull it off…this is a man who saw a flashing light bulb designed to cut off the occasional drunk or blowhard and instead of graciously leaving the stage, he simply unscrewed the light bulb. Oh yeah, this could be good.

Too many people are aware of Cameron’s arrogance to allow him to walk away with the most coveted award. I sense enough bad karma related to his ego to assure that he bats zero today. But…just in case…I sent that hex which will be being delivered from the mezzanine just as the nominees are read. 🙂

Posted by: anniewilson | March 5, 2010

Talking Dog

Posted by: anniewilson | March 4, 2010

Eh’…I’ll kill myself tomorrow

I woke up quite suicidal this morning…

…but soon after, the dog needed to be walked and it was such a lovely LA morning that I couldn’t imagine things being so bad that I would want to be laid out on a medical examiner’s table by the end of the day and with morning suicides, you can pretty much guarantee a trip to the ol’ slab by dusk.

Odd…that I should wake up suicidal…I was writing a new stand up routine last night before I fell asleep. I was giddy and looking forward to performing at the Comedy Store. Then I woke up all melancholy. This morning was the yin to last night’s yan.

Oh well, I’m still here. No thanks to my Twitter friends, BTW. I tweeted twice that I was gonna off myself if no one gave me a reason not to and no one did. Then, in one last desperate effort, I tweeted by plans to Ashton Kutcher who obviously doesn’t care anymore about me than any of my other twit friends. Thanks Ash.

It wasn’t fear that stopped me, I’m not afraid of my personal method of self slaughter…but I am worried about who’s gonna take the dog out next. And the poor thing can’t open the dog food cans…not even those new ones with the pull-off tops.

Whatever. I think I’ll deal with suicide like I’ve dealt with tattoos for 30 years…I’ll just do it tomorrow. I still don’t have a tattoo and if suicide procrastination works half as well, that’ll send me into my mid 60’s. I’ll probably re-evaluate things at that point.

Now, I don’t want anyone to think that just because I have morning fantasies of dieing ingloriously, that it in any way implies that I’m nuts. I’m not. I’m simply weighing options and as an intelligent adult, I wanted it to be a comprehensive evaluation.

At the risk of contradicting that last paragraph, I have to tell you, there are NOT many pleasant ways to cause ones own death. I certainly wouldn’t attempt it here in Hollywood. Jumping’s no good…with my luck, I’d fall on Angelina Jolie’s car and she and Brad would adopt my kids and I’d be all famous post mortem which certainly IS second best, but I really, really want to be alive to enjoy any accolades I have coming.

Actually, accolades would be great therapy so if any of you would like to sing my praises, do so in the comment section. (Remember Twitter!!! Don’t twit me bro!)

So…if I’m gonna live, I might as well keep my commitment at The Comedy Store for April 6th…if you want to come out and yell, “Jump!” while I’m on stage, show up and tell them Meg sent you. If not, just leave any derogatory comments in un-moderated comment hell.

If misery makes for good humor, I ought to be in rare form.

Posted by: anniewilson | March 3, 2010

Uh oh…

I could be wrong…

….but I think I just dodged a legal bullet. I went out with a younger man tonight, younger than usual. He was certainly a man sized man. He was soft spoken and thoughtful and we enjoyed watching a movie. Then, when he started to make his move, we simultaneously were discussing his age.

For some reason, I took a good look at him, especially his eyes. Not one line. Any guy over 25 is gonna have at least ONE line so I knew he was many years younger than the 25 plus that he represented himself to be.

Anyway, I had my doubts so I asked him for ID. He said no, “That I can trust him” and crap like that but an ID seemed simple enough for me. That’s all I need…to be embroiled in a cougar sex sting scandal.


Posted by: anniewilson | March 3, 2010


Hi ya’ll!

I’ve spent a lot of time out of commission lately health wise but I’ll spare you the gory details…and trust me, ALL of the details ARE quite gory.

Anyway, I’m here and finally feeling well enough to think up something to write about. Now remember, I have been ill so don’t expect my best work, but trust that I still have it going on. (Whatever the hell that means.)

I’m actually having a pretty decent night, the best in weeks, so here I am. First, let me say how shocked I am over Marie Osmond’s recent loss. It’s dreadful and this women has been through more than most. I truly feel for her and her family. My prayers to my own personal higher power are with them.

So, as I try to remember what it was that I came here to say, let me mention that I’m very frustrated at this moment because I have an eigth of ICE weed and my bong is packed with the stuff and my lighter only lights every 23 times you click the mother fucker. So, since lighting a bong on a gas stove is a bad idea considering the angle you’d have to maintain, (and remember, before you read my concern…I’m only a girl) it might pose a problem. Chances are pretty good that I’d kill the fire when I tip over the bong and it’ll sizzle and the house would smell like scalded bong water. One way or another, smoking this killer weed is posing to be quite a problem.

But…of this you can be sure…as God is my witness…I will get this ganja king smoked before I lie down to fantasize about Michael Madsen. Of course, if I smoke enough, I might accidentally finding myself fantasizing about Steve Carell, Maxwell Smart or Barney Rubble. At some point I would come to my senses of course…unless Carell is a stud amongst studs. Of course, it’s MY fantasy, duh…I could just create a man among men, Herculean, Sex God of Planet Earth out of Carell. But something tells me that no matter how much I smoke, don’t smoke, drink, don’t drink, that fantasising about Steve Carell is never going to take me all the way and I’d simply end up with a sore arm…afflicted by pussy wrist. It’s similar to carpel tunnel syndrome but there is no cure. Just an occasionally relief. That is, of course, if you keep Steve Carell out of your sexual fantasies.

Speaking of sex…I had an interesting experience the other day. I had been feeling poorly but during a short lived up-feeling that struck me Sunday morning, I got frisky. Thor said he had given up hope of any weekend horizontal boppery due to my illness. But…I was in the hospital the week and a half before so this was my first shot in a month.

First he took his clothes off and jumped in bed. I quickly noticed that he had left on the one piece of clothing that MUST come off…especially when you’ve already lost 98.9% of your other clothes. Anyway, I told him to get those jockeys off and he said that I couldn’t get my clothes off any faster.

Oh…he of little faith.

He agreed with my official time…3 seconds. First I rolled back enough to pull my pants AND panties off in 1.3 seconds. Then, I rolled back up and reached behind my back and pulled my top off in 1.7 seconds. He was amazed.

To be fair, I wasn’t wearing a bra. But…it was one helluva stripping record nevertheless. I’d be happy to hear from any women who can beat that. Men can’t, they have to check their wallets lest their date steal the 18 bucks that they inevitably have stuffed in there.

Anyway, after the stripping race (and my undisputed Championship of THAT contest), as planned, sex ensued.

We played around for a while and then he made his move south. I was so giddy that I giggled and assured him that “today we have an ALL YOU CAN EAT SPECIAL!” I was as tickled as I could be. I had unsuccessfully tried masturbating earlier that morning before he woke up but it didn’t work. I can’t blame Steve Carell for that one…I’m in a fantasy transition and I haven’t quite decided on the proper crazy sex stuff that I’d never do for my next fantasy serial.

Anyway, just as I’m getting into the “right frame of mind”…the Norwegian in him called him back north and before I knew what had stopped hitting me, I found myself staring at my own stupid face in the mirror on the ceiling wondering what the hell had just happened. (Great things, those mirrors. You can lie flat on your back and still see The Tonight Show.)

Now, you can look at this a few different ways. You could say that I should have told him to get his Speedy Gonzales tongue back where it had just come from and finish what he started. You could even say that he never should have stopped so soon in the first place. What would have been perfect is if I had said, “Unless you have a penis on your chin, you better get your tongue back between my thighs before I cut short this entire endeavor!” Damn, I always think of the perfect thing to say long after the fact.

But…I do have other ideas…I give a hell of a 90 second blow job.

Posted by: anniewilson | February 26, 2010

9 Lives or rotten luck?


Yo no feel goodo. I made so many promises to call people who called while I was in the hospital to see how I was. That made me feel good but I wouldn’t have minded some flowers..or even a couple of those stupid balloons. Oh well, I made it out in one piece…AGAIN!

In just over 10 years I’ve had cancer twice, 3 aneurysms (one that bleeds every so often, not enough to cripple me, just enough to make me stupid.) I’ve had my gall bladder out, brain surgery and “oscopy’s” out the yin yan. I’ve developed epilepsy, multiple sclerosis and a scorching case of the “old lady bitch thing” I don’t even bother the minor crap like high blood pressure, heart palpitations and and a thickened bowel thing caused by a combination of two other totally unrelated health problems that I’ve had over the past 32 years.

I figure that in God has something in store for me, it must be one heckuva doozie. If not, my math has me down to one life on the 9 lives cat scale.


Posted by: anniewilson | February 24, 2010

Back in the stirrups again!

Damn...I HATE needles!!!

This is a picture of me that was taken Saturday night. Believe it or not, I was, once again, in the hospital. This time I stayed from Thursday, February 11th to Tuesday the 23rd. I spent a LOT of time having tests…most of which I failed. This picture was taken in the middle of the night Saturday when one of my favorite nurses was putting in a new IV in my left arm to replace the one in my right arm that had infiltrated. That’s when the IV moves out of postion and the fluid enters your tissue surrounding the vein that the IV should be in. It leads to pain and swelling, which you can see in the picture if you look near the Band-aid up by my elbow. (At least you could see it on the larger picture, it seems smaller on this post.)

Anyway, long story short, I have an ischemic bowel. I’ve been having some symptoms lately that led me to think I was developing yet ANOTHER cancer…but all they found was the ischemic bowel and the painfully dilated common bile duct that has been annoying me ever since my cholycystectomy in ’97. Also, when my oldest was born, he weighed 84 pounds and so did I. Instead of giving me a hysterectomy to get that Leviathan out of me, they did a “fourth degree episiotomy” which is when they “make one opening out of two”. That’s how it was explained to me back in ’77. They gave my twat 5 months to “heal itself” and by the following May, it hadn’t. So…they fixed it by redoing the episiotomy. No baby, just the same pain upon sitting down.

It seems as though THAT sucker has broken open again and as happened before, bodily gases, waste and blood all gets confused when choosing an outlet. That problem seems to be causing the other problem…the one with the ischemic bowel.

I had two procedures to try to see and fix that sucker but they didn’t work. I have to call immediately to get an appointment to have another surgery done because, for some stupid reason, they couldn’t do it as an in-patient.

By the way, I was put under with propofil and when they told me that down in the OR, I warned them that I better not hear anyone break out into a chorus of Thriller. Thankfully, they obliged.

I have so much more to tell you but it’s really late and earlier today I was lying in a hospital bed so I think I’ll grab some shut eye and be back tomorrow!

See ya!

Posted by: anniewilson | February 10, 2010

A message to my ex husband

Rick, you ignorant slut…

…I was hoping that the divorce would clue you in but obviously I was wrong. I guess I need to delve a bit more deeply into what a divorce means to a couple who have no children together.

I suppose it means whatever a couple wants it to mean. If that’s so, you and I decided that our divorce would be a total divorce and that’s why we had the restraining order made permanent. We both signed the papers and I have left you alone. I don’t call you, I don’t call your kids and I don’t call anyone else in your family. I don’t even search them out online.

You, on the other hand, refuse to leave me alone and if for one minute you think that contacting my children is not, in essence, contacting ME…you should be here for the fallout. In NO way would I have expected you to disrespect my divorce. I don’t know why I thought that, probably for the same reason that I expected you to be faithful to my marriage. I know, I know, I shouldn’t expect honor from such a dishonorable Scaramouch but still, you shocked the hell out of me when you tried to get information from my kids.

Leave me alone, obviously I cannot see you for the true shit you are…I constantly underestimate the depth of your deviant tendencies and I admit that. I thought that a divorce would remedy that problem but obviously, you can’t quite help yourself so when it comes to me, PLEASE…just say NO.

When you sided with my ex husband against me, I should have realized that you were as misogynistic as my ex, my father and those allied with that ilk. But, as usual, I talked myself into believing that you were different. I now know that you are not any different from any of the other yahoos in my life who think that they can possibly know me at all. You don’t know me, Mark doesn’t know me and even my own father doesn’t know me. The three of you SHOULD know me, but none of you do.

My father actually believes that I stole a car from him. I can let that go because he’s close to a thousand years old. Mark doesn’t know me and I’ve made my peace with that. I assumed that there were enough people who did know me well enough to counteract the bullshit that he tells them. Luckily, there are many people in his family who see him for what he is but unfortunately, that doesn’t apply to everyone he knows so I do my best to stay away from people who are stupid enough to believe him.

None of you cowardly nit wits would do this to another man. My idiot ex will believe any man who tells him that I do drugs, even if the person making the claim is a well-known druggie. I don’t understand the illogical nature of that behavior, but I do understand the Serenity Prayer so I’m OK with it all.

I need to take my dog out…he shouldn’t suffer because you’re a dick.


OK, I’m back.

While I was walking the dog, I tried to think of a way to get my point across but no matter how well I might be able to put my thoughts into words, I still have a hard time explaining the blatantly obvious. That makes this a bit difficult but I’m going to try to do my best.

I know I said that I would tell the world about your children if you kept on disregarding my wishes. But, when it comes right down to it, I can’t do that. My bad…I have a sense of decency that won’t allow me to do that, even when it comes to your children. But I thought you would have enough concern for your kids that you would leave MINE alone once I made the threat. It NEVER occurred to me that I would have to act on the threat, I sincerely thought that your paternal instincts would tell you to do the right thing.

I was wrong. So, I’m not here to hurt your children. I wish I were able to do that…but I can’t. Nevertheless, since you care so little about MY kids, I will do my best to offend something that you might care about…your job. I don’t know how you passed a drug test for any workplace, but it would appear to me that All Electronics of Kalispell, Montana doesn’t care about maintaining a drug-free workplace. Of course, it’s always possible that you supply the drugs to the entire company in which case you wouldn’t be expected to be working unaffected by drugs. I wouldn’t want you working on MY electronic equipment…but that’s just me. I suppose the people in Kalispell might not care WHO works on their stuff.

Some people would see a drug addict and understand the unethical nature of the character involved. For others, it would take a liar to offend sensibilities. Personally, I understand the offensive nature of a liar. I would rather come across a thief because you can call the cops and put one of them in jail. On the other hand, there’s very little that can be done with a liar. You, better than anyone, know the pathological nature of your tendency to lie. According to you, you are the ONLY person in your ENTIRE family who isn’t procreating. Have any one of the females in your family EVER made it to age 19 without becoming pregnant? Have any of the males ever made it to 19 without impregnating someone?

Having children out of wedlock doesn’t necessarily imply a person of poor character. But, when doing so is a family tradition and that family doesn’t have a single member with a lick of decency, someone should point out the devastating effect that those such as you and yours can have on a society. If we ALL chose to satiate desires of the flesh without giving any thought to the potential consequences, we would be very little than bunny rabbits. Just because someone is able to reproduce, it doesn’t mean that they should. Not every erection needs to be stuck into the nearest female. You may be unaware of this but there are men and women who have children because they are ready to afford one and at a place in life where they have the ability to nurture and teach a child. It’s a concept that many other people ARE aware of and I thought I’d mention it to you. You might want to write that down and send it out at the holidays, your family is one that would do well to ponder the idea.

If, on the other hand, there isn’t ONE person in your family who has any desire to make a better life for their kids, they might do well to explain the benefits of purposeful procreation to their own kids so that the next generation of you people will not be so hideously addicted to immediate gratification.

But, knowing you, that won’t happen. It’s far too embedded in your lifestyle and psyche to change now. Pity.

But, you aren’t here to hear what I think about your family’s lack of honor. You’re here to tackle the issue and meaning of the word DIVORCE. A divorce is what happens when two people, for whatever reason, decide NOT to spend their lives together. It’s sort of the opposite of marriage. When you and I married, we vowed to blend two families and become one family until one of us died. Unfortunately, you didn’t die. You simply broke every vow you made. As a result, I divorced you. Apparently divorce is a bit trickier than marriage because in a divorce, the rules are spelled out rather specifically. I guess people assume that a marriage is an easy idea because in the wedding vows people generally agree to keep themselves only for each other.

I know you didn’t grasp that because you continued to screw other women long after I specifically requested that you refrain from doing so. I guess you had no reason not to…respect, honesty and strength of character eluded you and without any other reason not to, fuck others you did. Like a dog in heat, you did and will continue to screw whatever spreads it’s legs for you. That’s no longer my problem. But, the divorce terms ARE a problem for me.

I shouldn’t have to make a request every time you dishonor me or my divorce. But, like that request I made of you to stop screwing other women, I am more than willing to ask you to stay the hell out of my life. The families did not blend so they were dismissed to their own corners. That means that you must stay in your own corner. If you want me in your corner, ask me and I’ll consider it. But I’m perfectly happy in my own corner and I’d like to stay here. I’d also like to furnish my corner with people whom I can trust. You are not such a person.

The problem with you darkening my corner is that there ARE honorable people here. Your presence makes them uncomfortable because they know what hideous harm you did to my entire life and they don’t think much of you. Neither them nor I deserve to be reminded of your existence. There are also a few people over here who know nothing of what you did to me and when you pop up and I find out about it, I have to explain why I find you so unpleasant. I hate going over that again and again. I shouldn’t have to, once again, because we are DIVORCED. You are nothing to me except a bad memory and I’d like to keep it that way. I find that difficult to do when I have to explain to someone that you left me to screw someone in another state while I was in the hospital to have surgery, you brutalized me because I wanted the truth from you and you do not have the capacity to keep your twisted penis in your pants. You see, people who were not there to see your behavior that summer have no clue of what you are capable. The decent people in my life don’t need to hear about you and your despicable ilk.

How about this…I promise not to force decency upon you and your family and in return, I’d like for you to cease forcing your special brand of cowardice upon mine.

Posted by: anniewilson | February 8, 2010

My ex is why women should never drink and date

If the uncontemplated life is not worth living…

…can we take out those who are too stupid to contemplate even their own navels? If he doesn’t think…can I make him cease to be? If the only thing we can be sure of is doubt…then of this I am sure…I doubt my ex husbands will ever disappear from my daily routine.

Before mentioning recent actions by one of my idiot ex’s…I considered the fact that I might look bitter years after the divorce. Unfortunately, divorce doesn’t occur in a vacuum. See, this is why I’d rather be widowed. When a husband dies, he pretty much stays dead. When he screws other women and you divorce him, he can continue to pop up…and I might add…quite unexpectedly.

I NEVER in a MILLION years would have thought that my ex would be communicating with my family members. I don’t fault the family members…I didn’t divorce them. I divorced the sonofabitch that I was married to…oh so many years ago. He can’t seem to honor my divorce any better than he honored my marriage.

I don’t have many ex’s…but other than the father of my children, there’s no room in my life for the castoffs. I have a reasonable and self disciplined man to spend my time with and the more time that I DO spend with him, the worse my ex looks. None of his actions that lead to our divorce appear any less cowardly with the passage of time. Rather, I see him for what he is, what he was and what he shall remain…a yellow coward who offers nothing to anyone unless doing so serves himself. He looks all the more disgusting in retrospect and I’m nowhere near as bitter as I am really, really mad at myself for drinking until that pig started to look good.

The past doesn’t usually take up much of my time, I’m ordinarily more of an “in the moment” chick. But at any given moment, I’m unprepared to hear ANYTHING from my past or the cretins who populate it. But, some part of DIVORCE is mystifying to one of them…the part that implies FUCK OFF! I’m usually happy from one day to the next and I don’t want any reminders from my hideous judgement to pop up when I least expect it. That doesn’t make me bitter…it just means that I have CHOSEN not to forgive his lying ass and the fact that he has a serious problem with simple concepts like fidelity in marriage or fucking off in divorce.

I could do it, but I don’t want to. We don’t have to forgive every single person who wrongs us…no one expects us to forgive Nazi’s and the person who stole more of my life than prison will take from OJ Simpson is simply not forgivable. It is what it is…the evil of my life and as such I won’t “let it go”. I’ll walk away, happily. That’s good enough for me, I can’t do anything else. I just wish it were good enough for those from whom I seek to escape.

If this particular animal shows his usual stripes, the recent intrusions into my life are indications of his dissatisfaction with his own life and with himself. I must admit that I find that somewhat gratifying. I would have preferred the divorce to be over when I signed the actual divorce papers…but this is good too.

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