obama us and tattoos

Yes, the Arrival of the Cats has occurred at Camp Becky. They travel pretty light, actually, nothing like me, who goes to the Cape packed down like a beast of burden. They don't bring any clothes. No one here will dress them up in little hats and peignoir sets. Nor will they be pushed in a buggy. They don't need bathing suits--when the toilet bobbing gets a little boisterous, they just fall in.

So far there has only been one controversy, the Where Do We Get to Sleep battle, or Why Can't We Sleep On Your Bed In The Exact Same Spot As You imbroglio. I started the first night by locking them out of the bedroom. It worked fine. They were disoriented anyway and didn't know which way was what. By the second night, they knew where I was and wanted in. A little
scratching on the door but not for too long. By the third night, intense scratching and brutal clawing of the carpet under the door.

They won.









YOU'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT US, ARE YOU? WE WOULD NEVER ACT THAT WAY--NOT KNOWINGLY. LOOK HOW NICE WE ARE.

They're casual about it now and don't rub it in, so that's good. One thing I admire about cats is their total change of attitude (TCA) now and then. They will be doing a no-holds-barred NASCAR circuit around the house, 600 mph, up and down the stairs in a blinding flash, and then all of a sudden TCA. They come to a complete stop, yawn, and then sroll across the room with another yawn. YEAH? WHAT?

This is their high-tech rest room.
The thing has a hydraulic lift in it and you can hear it at night sometimes. It's not quite as romantic as the far-off sound of a locomotive, but comforting in its way.







They are settling into a comfortable routine. I think they are writing a book. I fear it may be a tell-all expose of my house. Gulp.

Later, dear reader
love,
becky

This is what we see before we actually get in the car and go to Gates Pond. Aren't they stunning? I have zero gardening skills, but these rhodies manage to grow and infiltrate their way into more than their allotted space without my assistance.
They only bloom for about two weeks and it used to be far later in May than it is now. Sniff. Boo. Oh well.
GET ON WITH IT FOR CHRIST'S SAKE.

Okay, then. Let's hop in the vehicle and take a jaunt over to the next town. It's not far, about five minutes. This is the same trip I used to take with the illegal squirrel trap in my trunk, live victim inside and waiting for liberty. Not any more, though. I have seen the light. I've also seen the possibility of being, uh, detained by the Animal Officer and I ain't messin' with her.

I'M SO ASLEEP I'M DREAMING OF BEING ASLEEP.

This is a walk around a pond, not escape from Alcatraz, okay? Thanks, dear reader, I know you know that.
These are lady's slippers, or perhaps they are ladies' slippers. They are, what is that term, endangered. You can't pick them. It's sort of like the mattress tag, though. Who's going to see you do it? And the term itself invites a smile. I picture the little flowers being surrounded by masked gardeners with guns. Yeah. With ransom notes. Now that's endangered. My friend Chris says lady's slippers have an "anatomical" look. We're not saying whose anatomy, however. We're far too dignified and discreet and squeamish for that, but if you have something like this curled up inside or dangling outside your body, keep it to yourself, okay?




Halfway around. Gosh, that went fast!! No sign of any bad guys.







Don't step in this, though. It's potent. I'm beginning to feel like Marlon Perkins.

While Jim wrestles with the vicious anaconda, I can't seem to find my contact lens.






These are lovely, aren't they? I don't have a rat's clue what they are.
I'm huffing and puffing now.
Pass the chips.
How much farther is it?
What's on TV?

In other news, dear reader, my grandkitties are here! They are staying with me for a month and already we're having wicked fun. Full coverage next time! They're so cute! And skilled! They're keeping busy digging holes in the carpet, so I must go and give them advice before Bette does.
love,
becky

Tattoo on women, Angelina Jolie Tattoo, although Angelina has "13 known tattoos," she felt the need to add some temporary ink to that collection for her role as the assassin known as The Fox in Wanted, and opted for that batch of squiggly lines down her back you see in the picture above

Jacqueline’s Tribal Cover-up Tattoo



Lauryn’s Embroidery Tattoo


Jessica’s Ivy Tattoo

You want to know the story behind this tattoo?
Carleah’s Tim Burton Cats Tattoo, she said :

Besides my fear of needles, I always wanted tattoos but I could never decide what to get. I kept putting it off. Being a cat lover, they obviously had to be cats, but I didn’t want anything cutesy. I have always been a Tim Burton fan and finally at the age of 24 I decided to get the cat in the opening credits of his short film Vincent. I had finally decided… and then I had a stroke.

After the stroke I underwent a multitude of procedures including surgery to close a hole in my heart. For two years I had to be on blood thinners and could therefore not get tattooed.

When I was finally taken off the blood thinners my plans were back in motion. My fear of needles had been abolished by the legions of needles I’d had by the end of the whole experience.

I took stills from the movie and traced the cat twice to be positioned symmetrically on my lower back. I had the tattoos done almost right away. It obviously didn’t start out this way, but for me the tattoo signifies the welcomed end of a negative life experience.

- Carleah

Tattoo Artist: Jeff
Tattoo Studio: Anchor’s Tattoo Studio

Wanna submit your story ? Please visit tattooconfidential.com

Want to make your life pass in front of you? Easy. Stuff everything you can think of into old style kitchen cabinets, wait thirty years, then heave it all out on the kitchen floor. Try to do it two days before you're having dinner guests to give yourself that extra frisson of excitement.


MOST REMARKABLE ITEMS FOUND (some are wrong--see if you can spot which, dear reader!)

1) 10-carat diamond.

2) Bank statements for 30 years going all the way back to whatever the bank's name was then. Bank of New England, Fleet, Baybank, Bank of Boston, Shawmut, my head is spinning.

3) dead mouse

4) Unsigned letter from Johnny Depp begging me to have dinner with him on any Friday night of my choice. I'm busy this Friday.

5) Original wedding gift canisters for flour, etc. in groovy psychedelic patterns, several stuffed full with bank statements.

6) All God's phone books, large and small, at least 15

7) money order for $10,000

8) List of tax assessments of all homes in my town in 1976.

9) Numerous cookie sheets/rusted aluminum cheese graters/rusted aluminum egg beaters

10) Salad spinner--these are still for sale in the "modruhn" era, but not like this extravaganza. There's only one thing to be said. YIKES. Army battalion? No problem. SALAD ALL AROUND, BABY! Sadly, the "spinner" attachment is missing.

I have assembled a small flea market on my dining room table. It has some exciting items, including a hot air popcorn popper, a homemade ice cream maker, numerous Corningware casseroles (with lids!), and much more!





See the psychedelic canisters? Aren't they far out? Also those blue thermal-insulated beer holders? STILL IN THEIR ORIGINAL PACKAGING. All of these items are FREE.
My dinner guests are being asked/forced to walk through the flea market and select at least one item for a ten-day free home trial. Did I already say they were free?

Okay then.
"Many convicted murderers have later been found innocent and have been forgiven."

"Couples in China prefer a male son."

"I sometimes have my friends over for a bomb fire."

"Al Gore has been fighting for global warming for a long time."

"In the online Gallup World Poll, 36% voted, 60% opposed, and the remaining 4% were lethargic and had no opinion on the matter."

love,
becky