I fucking love MSNBC

See, most of the time on MSNBC there is news bullshit, which I prefer to get from CNN.. or better yet www.sidecarsally.com (do as I say, go there!).. but on friday night MSNBC turns into a serial killer story telling, dateline to catch a predator airing, god sent TV channel for someone like me, who has both a sick twisted mind, and a fucked up enough body that leaving bed for huge amounts of time isn't quite an option yet.

Today I watched a documentary about a man from Macomb County, which is about 40 minutes away from where I grew up. He killed his wife because she went on to many business trips (and was also the breadwinner soo.. the trips probably needed to happen), then he chopped up her body, and put her in a storage container in his garage, all the while pleading on the local news for people to help find his wife/ saying she was a shitty mother for traveling so much. (no, I don't get it either).. the police caught on because the dude was a total psycho. While they were searching his house he drove his bright yellow dodge ram truck to a place near by where I went to college and hiked into the woods to "kill himself" which, to this man, meant laying under a tree in the woods getting a less than severe case of hypothermia until he was apprehended by police.

It makes me glow with pride to see somewhere so close to my hometown on MSNBC for something so.. umm.. well..... it's something, anyway.

This got me thinking.. I wonder when I'm going to see this girl:




on a similar MSNBC story.

This little treat is Ashley Snowden. I went to school with her for.. 7 years, she also grew up in Port Huron. You can imagine my surprise when one day around Christmas of last year (2007) I opened up the local newspaper to see her on the front page with this attractive gentleman:



John Gonzales.. This man also lived in Port Huron, but I didn't go to school with him because, as you can see, he is old as fuck.

Ashley and John made a happy home in the.. not so nice part of Port Huron.. and by happy little home I mean Ashley selected her mate knowing he had a criminal record. He was arrested in 1997 and convicted of three counts of sexual misconduct for having sex with a minor and was also arrested in October 2007 for child neglect and felony battery to a juvenile. I know that when I'm thinking about getting freaky with someone not only is it attractive if they're old as shit.. I also get pretty horny when I think about them screwing minors and beating children. Oh baby, you're making me wet.

Things went terribly wrong in this happy little house when John decided to bash Ashley's 18 month old child's head in around 2005.

I know what I would do if someone killed my kid. Dress him up in a tuxedo, sleep with his corpse for a while, then encase his body in cement and put him in a storage container (the only reason I can think of that these people are so into storing bodies in plastic storage containers is that they are pretty cheap at wal-mart-- and these folks are all clearly proud wal-mart shoppers)... oh no, wait.. that isn't what I would do, that is what Ashley did.

She, of course, stayed with this winner of a man long enough to up and move to Indiana where someone tipped off the police that there was a toddler covered in cement in a storage container living in happy little home 2.0, Indiana version, with Ashley and John. What I would really like to know is how anyone found that out.. Was someone at her house "Oh let me show you family photos.. *open container*.. WHOOPS! oh that... that's... nothing." ??

Two years later, the police drug this lovely couple back to Port Huron to stand trial and now Ashley is in prison for 5 and a half to 15 years. It's really good to know that if I ever get sick of my children I can just bash their skulls in, put them in a tomb of cement, toss them in a wal-mart storage container and get three squares and a roof over my head for 5 and a half years. Tragically, if Ashley gets out in 5 and a half, she will be a whopping 28 years old.

That seems like a pretty reasonable penalty for being party to killing an 18 month old baby and hiding the body for a few years..

oh, and did I mention that when the Indiana police came a-knockin' John picked up the couple's two year old daughter, ran into another room and said to the cops "I have a knife. I have a child. Back off."


Welcome to Michigan, people.

Makes me so proud it brings tears to my eyes.

how to deal with the TV license people in Ireland

So my future husband, Ben and I apparently got a letter from the Irish TV license people. They would like us to pay them money to watch their shitty shitty shitty shitty shitty Irish TV.. all four channels of it. Now, we do own a TV, which is pretty much a more glorified dvd player than my laptop.. because.. we don't watch TV. If we do watch TV it's on my laptop on www.surfthechannel.com, check it out.

Anyway, apparently there are these TV inspector people who come to your house to find out if you have a TV and then give you a ticket if you don't pay your fees. Ben and I had a long conversation about how this will go and we came up with a few scenarios.

1.) TV inspector guy (i don't know what they're called) comes to door:

me: who is it?
dude: TV inspector
me: *laughs* are you a cop?
dude: no
me: so you expect me, a helpless female to open the door to my house to let you in? fuck off.

2.) *knock knock*
me: *open door*
guy: Do you have a tv
me: *touch ear, do sign language*
guy: talks until he gets the idea that im deaf

3.) *knock knock*
me: *open door*
guy: do you have a tv?
me: no... I'm blind

4.) *knock knock*
me: *open door*
guy: hi I'm the TV duder guy do you have a tv?
me: no.
guy: can i come in and look around?
me: umm.. are you a cop?
guy: no
me: do you have a warrant?
guy: no
me: get bent, asshole

5.) *knock knock*
me: open door
guy: hi, im the TV asshole, do you have a tv?
me: no
guy: can i come in?
me: im going to have to call someone and see if you're legit, i hope you understand, can i have a number to call
guy: *gives number*
me: *go into house, watch tv for thirty minutes (loudly), go back to door* .... sorry dude, they have no idea who you are. *slam door*

6.) *knock knock*
ben: *open door*
guy: im the tv douche bag, let me in your house even though i have no real authority to come in im a douche douche douche.
ben (in irish): I only conduct business in irish (in ireland they HAVE to do everything in irish if you request it and barely anyone speaks it).

then.. if the guy speaks irish ben is going to say "sorry dude, i don't speak irish"

lame entry, i know.. but being from america, the idea that someone would just let a tv inspector in their house to come look around escapes me.. "yeah, you can come in, but i get to follow you around with this knife at your throat"

im willing to bet the TV people will leave me the fuck alone, because if they want to come in they're going to need a search warrant, or some really good weed.

reasons why i dislike ireland.

1.) my family and friends are in america. people who i thought were going to be good friends are not.
2.) it rains all of the god damn time. then its sunny. then its rainy. then its sunny.
3.) i haven't been to any of the cool places outside of dublin i want to go to and i doubt its ever going to happy unless i buy a car and drive myself.
4.) i miss my kitties
5.) no physical therapy for my back
6.) apparently when people are asshole in ireland when they're drunk, that's a free pass.
7.) irish people are not nearly as friendly as americans... im talking 20% as friendly. if you strike up a conversation with a friend of a friend or someone in a bar you can plan on it lasting for about four minutes if you're lucky
8.) a lot of irish like to think of you as a complete and total brain dead moron if you speak to them with an america accent
9.) im not really one for going to church, but there are SO many beautiful ones that no one here properly appreciates and ben is an atheist
10.) its filthy. if you walk for ten minutes expect to come home covered in city dirt, just like in london. dont even think about wearing flip flops.
11.) there are NO BLACK PEOPLE. im not talking about people with dark skin, im talking about AFRICAN AMERICANS god, do i miss black people so much.
12.) i personally think the east coast is the shitty side of dublin, but i haven't gone to the west coast yes and i don't see it in my near future.
13.) the irish tv channel which has things like sponge bob and south park dubbed in irish. i think it might be the most offensive language ive ever heard, and everytime i stop on the god forsaken channel i have to stop and watch.. and least for a second. its like a trainwreck.. its horrible but you can't look away.
14.) what is with all of the potato commercials?? WE GET IT ALREADY, YOU'RE IRISH AND YOU LIKE POTATOES. ive seen at least three different potato commercials and there was a huge billboard in the train station when you got off the train dedicated to pay homage to the low low potato prices at some store. WTF?
15.) there are god damn smack heads everywhere, the closer you get to city centre, the more there are. im not talking a few... for a country this size, i fucking swear to christ dublin has more smack heads than chicago has crack heads ( and if you've been to chicago you know). since ive been here ive had one try to steal my cell phone, one stole an old ladies cell phone and one took his penis out and waved it to me. detox clinics? homeless sheleters? jail? anything?
16.) They've lied to you all!!!!! i've barely set eyes on a ginger since ive got here excluding when i look in the mirror.

well... at least there is no bush.

Paddy McIrish

So, I am Irish. In fact, at any given point in time I am usually the most Irish person in the room/bar/at the party in America. I was born in Ireland to a father with duel citizenship to America and Ireland and an Irish mother. I was given up for adoption and my father insisted I be adopted in the United States, so I went to my adoptive parents from Ireland at the age of three months. I grew up in an Irish Catholic family in Michigan, and I'm going to be living in Dublin with my Irish boyfriend in six days.

That being said, I have never been the "Irish" person who runs around the bar/party screaming "Look at me I'm Irish!!!" However, in America people who do that exist in great numbers and they are, in my personal experience, 100% of the time... less Irish than myself. My friend Cody and I like to call these people "Paddy McIrish," they normally have a shamrock tattoo and are wearing a Notre Dame shirt or hat, or something from Ireland and screaming about how Irish they are per mentioned above.

Cody and I have both met "that guy" at a party here and there, but the peak of the "Paddy McIrish" happened at Cody's 25th birthday party last Saturday. Cody and I were standing in the parking lot of the house where the party was and this guy on the porch started talking about his new tattoo. Cody, being really into tattoos and having a ridiculous amount of them and myself, having worked in a tattoo shop for quite a few years and having what the general public would consider to be "a lot of tattoos" walked up on the porch to check out the ink, and were confronted with the best "Paddy McIrish" I can safely say either of us have ever seen.

This first thing this guy says, before we even get a look at the tattoo is "Yeah, I'm Irish." we were then presented with a half sleeve of Irish crap. Celtic knots, Irish Gaelic, normal shamrocks, negative space shamrocks, and the crowning glory.... in his words "Irish Harp, the National Emblem of Ireland."

Please keep in mind that I am moving to Dublin in six days. I have had paperwork coming out of my ass. All of this paperwork happens to have the celtic harp or "clairsearch" on it. ( I'll admit I looked up the "clairsearch" part but I've seen the god damn emblem enough to tattoo it on my own forehead, and it's on all the god damn money) Anyway, homeboy shows me this "national emblem" and it has a woman in the harp. The god damn harp doesn't have a woman with flowing hair in it, its just a fucking harp. Look at a Guinness bottle, you'll get the idea.

After a short discussion with the kid he told me about 42 more times that he is Irish, a load of my friends happened to be around just waiting for the ball to drop on him that he is an American who was descended from Irish people. Even though I was wasted and I'm an obnoxious asshole when I'm drunk, I held my tongue until he started talking about how The Boondock Saints is the best movie ever. I then threw in that I love that movie, but I find it hard to watch now as I have proper Irish friends and my boyfriend is Irish and I talk to him everyday. The actors in the movie don't exactly nail the Irish accent, but it's hard to notice until you've really interacted with people who are properly Irish. (Side note; I don't consider myself to be properly irish).

The story ends with him telling the "N-word" joke from The Boondock Saints that I don't want to repeat because it's horribly racist. Then he slinked away from me and my friends to another group of people who wanted to hear all about how incredibly Irish he is.

Lame story, but I was really stoked I got to meet the crowning glory of the "Paddy McIrish" stereotype before I left for Ireland.

Moral: One Irish tattoo = OK, two = pushing it, three = douche bag. Does anyone really think that properly Irish people run around wearing bright green and tattooing themselves with half sleeves of shamrocks?

Hello Hello!

I guess I'm not all that interesting, but since I'm moving from the good old US of A to Ireland in less than a week I thought I could document my adventures here for my friends to read. Also, it occurred to me while I was cruising down I94 east screaming at the top of my lungs at other motorists that I am not going to be driving while I am living in Dublin. Rather, I am going to be driving very infrequently. What does this mean to Meg, AKA the angry ginger? I have no outlet for my rage.

A little example of my driving rage, you say? Well, about six or seven weeks ago I was driving on the "main drag" in my home town of Port Huron, Michigan. It is currently infested with Canadians.. not just any Canadians.. SARNIA CANADIANS. I have driven through Canada several times in my life, and it seems that everyone in the entire country knows how to drive perfectly fine, excluding the citizens of the little shithole town of SARNIA. Anyway, so I was in a parking lot that has a traffic light. I was in the left hand turning lane with my left turn blinker on, as was the van across from me. I waited for the traffic going straight to clear and started to turn left, only... the van in the left turn lane WENT STRAIGHT. THEY WENT STRAIGHT, and then proceeded to nearly hit me. So I, naturally, laid on my horn. What did the man driving do? He gave me the finger. He could have killed me, and he gave me the finger.

So what was my response? Naturally I completed my left turn out of the parking lot, and then turned back into it using the other entrance. The van had pulled into the Home Depo part of the huge lot, so I drove about 40 toward the van, pulled up my E-brake, got out of the van with my 32 ounce coke I had just purchased in my hand, and started screaming at the man. When he tried to yell back, I launched my soda at his windshield. Then he started to walk toward me and I pushed a shopping cart at him aggressively, got in my car and drove away while giving him the finger.

Yeah, I know, I'm fucking crazy. However, This story does have a moral and that is; I am fucking crazy and if I'm not driving I'm not going to have a real outlet for my rage, thus this blog. I am really hoping that I'm going to run into less fucking ignorant assholes while I'm living in Ireland and that I'm less angry since I don't have to drive, but I don't see that happening.

Everyone who knows me consequently knows that I am filled with rage. Thus The Angry Ginger. I'm angry and I'm a ginger. Hi, Meg, nice to meet you.