Hot Spam Kabobs

I am so disturbed that the little ad that popped up on my gmail page (which is usually something related to the email topics - for instance, if I'm talking about soccer in the email, I'll get soccer ads or links on the top of the page or on the side) ... but this one was a link to a recipe for "hot spam kabobs." Swear to God. I can't make this shit up.

Speaking of spearing something, I am in a Momzilla kind of mood today. Was balancing my checkbook online - which is sort of like tightroping walking while playing eeney-meeney-miney-mo - and saw that my dear *note the sarcasm* brother cashed his birthday check from me yesterday. His birthday is Thursday. He'll be 48. He doesn't remember my children or my husband on their birthdays with even a card or a call. He hits my folks up for money on a regular basis. He cashes the check and can't even bother to send me an email or pick up a phone to say Thanks, Sis for the funds. No, because that would be the nice thing to do. I'm just his crappy baby sister. I'm not worth five minutes of his time. I had to learn from my former sister-in-law (his ex-wife) that he isn't planning on attending my parents' 50th wedding anniversary celebration scheduled for June. He told her that he can't get off of work, even though I've been planning this since early January. No, it would be too much trouble to put in notice six months early at work that he needs ONE lousy day off to wish his parents (whom he is milking their retirement money from) well for putting up with each other and not killing us or themselves in all that time.

ARGH.

I spent about an hour and a half this morning talking to insurance people trying to get things sorted out to get my car in the shop and get a rental. Instead, I have an appointment tomorrow morning for the insurance adjuster to look at my car while the claims folks determine if the sweet little old lady named Penny was 100 percent at fault. I'm not sure how it would take them 24 hours to figure this out. I was westbound on the road, she was eastbound. We both had a plain old green light and she wanted to turn left (north) on the cross street. She didn't yield (and there is no green arrow at this intersection) and I couldn't avoid hitting her. Badabing, badaboom. Cut and dry. Old bag didn't yield. She was sweet, mind you, but she was still at fault. And, while, God bless her, she was a sweet old gal, I just want her Allstate policy to give me a rental car that is equivalent to mine so I don't have to drive around in a car with no right turn signal in the front that makes a crappy noise when I hit a bump cuz shit is scraping the pavement. Is that too much to ask for? Just put them damn car in the shop and fix it. Plain and simple. Instead I get to drive around looking like white trash (no comments from the peanut gallery, I prefer to be called a redneck over trailer trash - we never owned or lived in a mobile home, but I did go to dirt-track races and yell Jumburrito!!! while drinking a wine cooler.) AoD said I "mommed my ride" with this wreck. My response was Ha ha. Very funny.

On the upside, I am going to have Hot Spam Kabobs for dinner tonight. *kidding* AoD is taking me to my favorite BBQ restaurant, Red, Hot and Blue for dinner tonight. Of course, we have to go in the white-trash-mobile. So, if you see a Kia Sedona that makes an awful noise when it hits a pothole, make sure and wave at me.