First, let me apologize again to those who voted in my informal poll….what to write about next. I haven’t forgotten. But, I have found over the years, that my bipolar brain tends to latch on to and wrap itself around a (or several) random thought.  It then hooks up with the OCD part of my brain. This result of that is like being poked in the hiney with a cattle prod welded by a famous person = the thoughts are not always fun or pleasant but you have this insane urge to tell everyone.

So, strap yourself in and hang on for the ride. Hopefully, I’ll be able to wander too far off the subject. No promises, though.

For some crazy reason, around this time of year (for several years), I have decided that I can cut my hair better than my hairdresser. I think to myself….it couldn’t be that hard to trim my own hair . Think of the money and time that I can save!  This idea ranks right up there with the famous redneck last words…”Hey watch this!”

  My reasonable self says, “No! Don’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoit!” But, around the holidays, I never listen to my reasonable self which could explain the boxes that TPKen just got out of the attic. They were labeled “Christmas decorations”, but were, in fact, filled with clearance Christmas crap that even Goodwill would not accept. Broken ornaments that I just knew I could fix with a little Super Glue ( I do love my SG). Hallmark ornaments dated  2008 for First Born, Our New Home, #1 Teacher, etc. Now if I could just find someone who had a baby in 2007-2008 who wants a cradle with a rocker broken off ornament or prehaps, a kid who forgot to give their teacher a gift last year or the year before that or a couple who just never got around to purchasing an ornament after they closed their house loan last year…..

I digress, as usual. Back to my Chrismullet. I’m very good at cutting my own hair….on the top and sides. Then, I look in a double mirror at the back and realize that I have a haircut that could pass for a Joe Dirt extra. So, I try to fix it. And, I look in the mirror and think…”Hmm, it’s not that bad, except for the uneven layers. No problem! This will be a piece of cake”.

clip, clip, clip…there. That should do it. Except, I can see in the mirror that one side in the back is about 1/2 to 1 inch (depending on which layer) longer/shorter than the other side. So, thus begins my traditional “fixing of the hair”.  The traditional hair fixing is always accompanied by my very own original  holiday carol (which even I am too ashamed to post due to the the fact that the entire song is nothing more than a series of cuss words sung to the tune of Jingle Bells).

Over the next 8-10 days, I spend a few hours (broken up in to 10-15 minute increments) in the bathroom cutting “stray hairs.”

At this time, a reasonable woman would throw up her hands and go get it cut professionally. Notice, I said “a reasonable woman”.

I don’t give up that easily.

By day 11 or 12, I realized that I am seriously in need of a real hairdressers help….or a hat. I, of course, go for the hats. Hats are easier than having to explain to a hairdresser why my hair looks like it was caught in a wood chipper. Especially, since my personal hairdresser has had to fix my haircuts on several occasions before this one.

By this time, I am sporting my own creation…..the Chrismullet.

I shouldn’t be allowed to own scissors.  Not even those kid’s safety scissors.

Hmmm….”wondering if I can start a Chrismullet holiday style”.

In the meantime, I’ll just bookmark these sites…..Surviving A Bad Haircut and Accessorize It! and wear a fun hat…..

editing to add a Christmas treat for my blogging friends and readers. ENJOY! And, laugh….this has to put you in a good mood!

 

I have not forgotten about your votes. And, I have notes on all of them and many more.

I have been  busy making more notes. I’ve had a flow of creative juices (aka Red Bull and the manic stage of BP).

And, I am so mad at my myself.

Ya see…1  1/2 year ago, I began sponsoring two little kids in Malawi. One girl who is 8 and 1 little boy who is 3 1/2. I felt so good when I signed up and new that I was doing a good thing.

Went out and bought postcards of all the seasons where I live. Wrote them letters. Put some stickers and kid tattoos in them. Also, some pics of my family.

I couldn’t wait to hear from my little kids.

So, I waited one month. Then, I waited 2 months, 3 months!

Four months went by with narry a word of correspondence. I was not expecting a lot of letters but I wasn’t expected something….how ’bout a mud painting…not even a real one. They could go out in the bush and get big-ass leaf or something.

But, nothing. And, I hate to admit this but I was becoming very upset. Not only was I not getting correspondence from my kids, I was being flooded with pleas from the organization at least 4 times weekly. Help Lonjo’s family. They are starving. Help this poor widow. She as nothing. And, it’s not that I didn’t believe it, it was getting pretty tired of opening envelopes and having pictures of kids with flies around them, old grannies who needed a new thatch floor, etc. These pictures would make me sad. I would feel like a big-ass Scrooge not answering the outpouring of “gimmees”.And, what proof did I have that the kids even really existed? NONE

SO,yesterday I fired off a letter to Vorld Wison (don’t wanna get sued) and demanded that they remove me from their list. I told them that I gave money to my 2 kids there but I , also, give to people in my own area. I told them if they would quit hounding the donors that they have, people might stayed singed up

THey wrote me back and after a long, heart-wrenching explanation of why I get so much request for money, they promised to remove me.

Frankly, I thought I would be allowed to be more interactive with my 2 kids when I signed up. I had, already, seen them in  my head dressed up in new Ralph Loren shorts and T’s. And, maybe some Limited Too. But, that wasn’t allowed.

So, yesterday, I receive a letter from my little boy. It is the second pic that I have ever received of him. In the first pic, he is sorta skinny and doesn’t look happen.  In this pic, he has little round belly and is smiling .His letter informed me:

A few facts for you aboutAlfred(that is his name)

fav subject….chichewa…if anyone reading speaks the language of Malawi, please translate for me

fav food….nsima $ eggs

my health status….fine, because of the deworming that you paid for

your money has brought my family…mosquito net, maize flour, and goat

during free time, i like…..running

I feel so guilty. Will he get worms back if I don’t send money? Will he lose his goat?

Sheesh….the thought of Alfred getting worms back and shaking his fist to the sky and cursing that American woman is just too much to take.

So, I’m a sucker….I’m trying to get him back!

There are days when I cannot think of a single thing to write. It’s not that my life has become stagnent or boring. Never! But, my brain will not release the thoughts and holds out on the signal to make my fingers work the keyboard.

Yesterday was not one of those days, however. Thoughts were rapid firing like redneck hunters during deer season (which starts next week for guns…”note to self”…do not wear anything that has even the minute resemblence to antlers). It’s customary here for Black Friday to lower the checkered flag for Christmas shopping for the ladies and deer hunting* (see footnote at bottom) for the high testosteronedsex. Which, by the way, does not mean just the guys. No sirree…no bias ’round here. Y’all will see about as many femullets as mullets in the woods.

So, I’ve decided to let you, dear reader, choose my topic. Here is my plain, unedited list of weird, bizzarre, and maybe, downright disturbing topics. These are on a white, lined notebook right here beside my computer. Eventually, I’ll write about them all. But, you decide for me this time.

I just realized that my dentist’ name rhymes with Dr. Fucky.

Sweet Child Of Mine video that I am perfecting (starring me dressed as Axl Rose) for TPSkipper and TPMidge for Christmas. I started on it yesterday and got the giggles so bad that I just couldn’t finish it.

Bullet earrings and L L Bean

My friend gained 100 pounds in order to qualify for gastric bypass surgery.

New words that I have learned.

“Hey, looky here. I got me a squirrel right thru the eyeball!”

“Feels like the first day of squirrel season”

nasty dreams about Jon Bonjiovi

So…what will it be? And, if you lazy-ass biotches and baiostards don’t help me out, maybe, I’ll just write a post about….

PEOPLE WHO READ BUT NEVER COMMENT…..i’m just sayin’

*hunting season….a whole week away with the guys/girls. 3 hours of sitting in tree stands in subzero weather.  165 hours of sitting around with the guys/gals….spitting, farting, telling lies, and drinking suds.

Regular readers (I’m up to around 1o now) know that I normally write about the crazy things that go on with my insane life. And, I came here intended to write, once again, about the mishaps and weird things that seem to always take place around me. But, I just cannot do it this time. My heart is breaking. My cheeks are wet from tears. There is no zany commentary this day.  Right now, nothing is funny. This day, there is nothing but sadness in my heart.

 R.I.P. little Shaniya Davis

How could she (Antoinette Davis) does such a horrendous, cruel, and inhumane thing? I have two daughters, one grand-daughter, and a grandson. I would give my life for them.

How much, Antoinette Davis, did you get for your beautiful, innocent little girl? Who set the price?  Did you have to barter? Did you have to counter offer?Was the amount worth the life of your innocent child? Do you regret selling your child? Or, getting caught selling your little girl?  Can you sleep without her appearing in your dreams?  But, most of all, how and why could you do this?  I am thanking God that you are locked up and will not be able to command a price for the unborn child that you are now carrying.

Does anybody out there understand how she could do this?

Andrette McNeil, the accused purchaser, deserves to rot in hell. How much did you pay for that innocent little girl, McNeil? It couldn’t have been much from the looks of you on the video. How many other children have you bought or attempted to buy? You are a monster. I hope that Shaniya haunts you every night for the rest of your life in your dreams.

I just don’t understand how any mother could do this. I just cannot wrap my mind around this deed.

This day, my thoughts and prayers are with Bradley Lockhart…little Shaniya’s father. I will be praying for you, Mr. Lockhart.

editing to add….kudos to the motel employee that spotted McNeil carrying Shaniya. So many times these days, people turn their heads and go about their business. That’s one more thing that I just don’t get.

My daughters have gone exercise crazy. Seriously. From the standard YMCA fitness machines to the latest craze, Zumba, they have embraced it all with more zealous than Sean Penn has for Hugo Chavez.

And, of course, they want to drag me along. So far, I have managed to resist (mostly by hiding in the closet or not answering my telephone when they call). It’s not that I don’t want to be fit. I do! I really do! And, when they find me a class that offers HD TV and Ding Dong breaks, I’m totally in and ready to squat/jump/shake my booty/etc. Until then, my plan is to stick with the Sit and Be Fit Class on PBS. SABF is the only enjoyable exercise routine that I have found so far. It takes only a few minutes and I can participate while sitting on my butt on my overstuffed couch with my Diet Coke, cigs, and Kroger’s Red Velvet cake on a nearby table.

It’s not that I have never joined a group of  obese overly enthusiastic  people women with good intentions of dropping that last ten pounds of baby weight (OK….what if my youngest child is of voting and drinking age?) and fit into a pair of sleek, tight Baby Phat (haha..I made a pun) jeans. I have done my share of jumping jacks, rolling on off around on an exercise ball, and yoga stretches. I use to be one hellova hot and fit mama. These days, though, I’m fairly satisfied to be a luke-warm earth mother. And, who wants an earth mother whose ribs stab ya when you lay your head on their bosom for comfort? I mean…COME ON!…it’s my turn to be the fat-but-jolly friend/sister/mother/neighbor/etc. I’ve served my time in front of  86 lb instructors with long blonde hair held in place by a fashionable sweatband and names like Rain or JuJu.

TrailerParkSkipper has joined a kick-boxing class and keeps urging me to join her. Hmmm….NO!

I’ve actually taken kickboxing classes. Brutal. Inhumane. And, stinky. Never in my entire life have I experienced so  many gassy women. Yes, you read that right. Gassy as in farting. There has to be something about hitting a bag with all your might and then instantaneously turning 180 degrees to kick the same bag that releases foul hiney odor. Whatever the cause, it manifested itself while doing the kick-boxing stretch warm-ups and cool-downs, too.

I remember, vividly, my first class. I went with TrailerParkMidge who was just starting junior high. We took our places on the floor. I looked to the left of me and saw a woman who looked very much like Paris Hilton. I turned to the right and lo and behold, there was a Kate Moss look-a-like. I wondered how long they had been in the class and how much time it would take me to resemble them. Actually,to be real about it, I wondered how many kick s and punches it would take me to look like a much larger version of them.

Those bitches! Skinny and lithe! With their sleek black leotards, pink sweat shorts, and oh-so-carefully- applied hint of pink lip gloss.  I hated them. I loathed them….until they started FARTING! 

“poooooot” “pfsssst” “fffffftttttt”

OMG….Kate and Paris were regular pootie-tooties!

At that minute, I felt happier than I had in a long time. With every turn-and-kick, “Paris” made pootie sounds. And, “Kate” was emitting the kind of sounds that 10 year old boys make blowing on their arms during detention to amuse their fellow detainees. Week after week, the Farting Duet made kickboxing bearable for me. They both smelled like rotten poultry and I may have been sweating like a ho’ in church but at least, I was not gassing everyone around me. I think it was their diet of bean sprouts and carrot juice that turned their butts into a heavenly choir of poots and toots.

“rooty-toot-toot”

One week, the bulimic butt singers didn’t show up for class. Then, the next week, they were absent, too. I inquired about their absence and the instructor told me that neither had renewed their kickboxing fees. So, I quit, too.

Hmmm…..maybe, I’ll have TPSkipper check for squealy participants in her class. If she reports that there are some in attendance, I might just join! Afterall, I do still have my gloves.

Hi Friends and Fellow Bloggers!

I haven’t been around much lately. It seems that I am infected from head to butt. I’ve been feeling crappy lately. I finally went to an Urgent Care Clinic to get the scoop on the poop (which has been a lot).

I’m apparently eaten up with infection in almost every hole, pouch, and pocket in my body.

Here’s the list….

I’ve got bronchitis…AGAIN!

I’ve got an infected tooth. Still waiting for the referral from my dentist to a periodontist.

Last but not least….I have Diverticulitis  which .is swelling (inflammation) of an abnormal pouch
(diverticulum) in the intestinal wall.

I’m taking 2 antibiotics, cough syrup, and using an inhaler. I’m a mess. And, I have so many things that I need to do. If you pray, say one for me.

I have no energy so once again, I am taking the easy way out and posting a youtube video about Christmas. It’s not sleek and professional but has a great message about Christmas. I hope you will take time to listen to it.

As for me….back to laying on the sofa that close to the bathroom.

Hopefully, I’ll be back to normal by Christmas!

I need one. I think the cobwebs are finally taking over in my gray matter. I can’t seem to get busy on writing or anything else for that matter.

There were 19 big-ass turkeys in my front field this morning. You think that I could come up with something to write about them. Maybe, later.

So, I’m taking the wuss way out again and posting something that I got in my email.

A Woman’s Poem  He didn’t like the casserole And he didn’t like my cake, He said my biscuits were too hard Not like his mother used to make.  I didn’t perk the coffee right He didn’t like the stew, I didn’t mend his socks The way his mother used to do. I pondered for an answer I was looking for a clue. Then I turned and smacked the shit out of him… Like his mother used to do.

 

 

 

Monday was TPKen’s birthday. Every year, it gets harder and harder to come up with a birthday gift for him. He’s one of those guys that goes out and buys whatever he needs or WANTS for himself. I’ve always thought that this was a selfish thing for people to do. When they know that their birthday, Christmas, etc. is fast approaching and they already have bought themselves what they want when they want it. It leaves family and friends out in the cold scratching their heads to come up with a gift idea.

So, this year, I decided that I was just not going to worry about it. He has done this for our entire marriage.

Monday evening I ran out and bought him some Levi’s, a book, and some candy.

He needed new jeans.

He didn’t like the book. How convenient it was for me that it was one that I had been wanting to read. “snicker”

He didn’t like the candy. Can you believe it that it just happened to be one of my favorites. “snicker snicker”

I’m on to something here. I can’t wait for Christmas!!!!

I love to get revenge. Now, don’t get me wrong. I would never really hurt someone physcially or damage their character.

No, my acts of revenge are pretty tame. Just enough to satisfy my bloodlust.

One of my best ways to get revenge is through the use of sprinkles/glitter. Glitter is a really hard thing to get out of your hair or off of your clothes. I use to carry a couple of tubes in my purse….just in case. But, what I actually ended up doing most of the time with the glitter was putting it in the envelope with my payment to somebody. I would only put it in envelopes of people or businesses who had given me a hard time or really pissed me off.

BUT, my most enjoyable times with mailing glitter was when I would get junk mail….lots of junk mail. I would open the junk mail and switch the contents. Pour in a about 1/2 teaspoon of glitter. Mostly those damn credit card companies that won’t leave ya alone. They come with a pre-paid envelope so this was not only fun, it was free.

My husband’s ex-wife use to drive me nuts. Seriously, I think that I could have strangled her. It would take too long to go into details about all that. But, believe me, what I did to her, she definitely deserved it

.Since, she annoyed me at the least every couple of weeks, I would get sweet secret revenge on her by doing the following things.

. I pledge money to tv telethons in her name. I signed up to get material from an “adult sex store” in her name. Of course, I used her address for all of this.When telemarketers would call here, I’d tell them that I was just visiting and offer to give them my home number since I was just then leaving to go home. And, but of course, I gave them her number!

She finally moved away. I was relieved but also missed my secret fun.

One of my best revenges was on a doctor who was rude and thought he was God. After he left the room, I put some glitter in a couple of drawers. Then I took his stethoscope outside, glittered it up and threw it right in front of his office into some ice covered bushes. The jerk deserved it. I would have loved to have seen his face when he found it. Teach that asshat to be nicer to patients!

I’ve got more but am going to bed…..and dream sweet dreams of revenge.

No, this is not my belly button. Mine is actually deeper than this one. Mine is so deep that you could fill it with water and use it as a dog/cat water bowl.

 

My belly button stinks. It stinks because it is freakishly deep. I have to clean it regularly or it smells like ass. I was tooooo embarrassed to ever talk about this until….

I did an internet search on “deep belly buttons” during a period of boredom. I was totally taken by surprise to find that “deep belly button” is all over the internet. Stuff like this……

“Sometimes when I try to clean it out I can’t get my finger in it properly, so I have to get a toothpick to scrape it clean. It’s just too small.”

 From a site named, “Is It Normal?”……..

smelly belly button

 

Friend’s Email: Your Name:

my belly button is smelly inside. its tight and it gets smelly really deep. ive been like this since i was young. and sometimes i sniff it and like the smell even though its a bit rank

Responses……

uhhh

you have much self luv… good for you!  

I find it satisfying to gouge out the depths of my navel with a matchstick. This would be a perfect pastime except for the fact I get shooting pains in my bum-hole if I dig too deep.

Anonymous

ha

well my sister has the same exact problem and i think its normal. and strangely she likes how it smells. i smelled it a few times and nearly died. it was BAD!!

completly normal. maybe clean it or something. or get deoderant for it

So, I was beginning to think that I might actually get educated on deep belly buttons on this site. But then, I read this…..

Gray ball hair?

Friend’s Email: Your Name:

Is it normal for a 19 year old to have gray hair on his balls and at the base of his penis but normal pubes everywhere else?

Comments

You may be dying or will die very young.

are you sure that you aren’t 91?

shut up retard

It became pretty obvious that this was not a site filled with serious, educating “deep belly button” research . So, I did some more surfing and found……

I Used To Believe

I didn’t find any answers there, either. But, I sure got some really good belly laughs. As a matter of fact, I laughed all the way down to the bottom of my belly button.

I spent so much time reading those stories that I didn’t have time to do anymore research.

So, if any of you have an answer for why some belly buttons are really deep and smell like ass, please post a comment.

 

 

1/25/09…..I’ve decided to revive this post from the archives. I am surprised by the number of comments on it. The comments are really much better than the post. I didn’t realize how much interest this would generate. The inventiveness and sense of humor of all the commentators amazes me. Read them and be both entertained and educated.

All Commentators are now honorary members of THE STINKY BELLY BUTTON CLUB! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!

Update 9/28/09

I am surprised and amused that this post about belly buttons has generated more comments on my blog than any other post. I honestly never dreamed that so many people would comment about their own belly buttons. It’s a wonderful day! Stinky Belly Button People have come out of the closet and exercised our rights to be proud of a freakish belly button.

(This looks like someone stuck a booger in their belly button. Freakishly deep belly buttons ARE excellent places to hide things.) From I Used To Believe…. ”I used to believe that my belly button was a place to store my boogers for when i wanted a little delicacy late rin the day.”

People from all over the world have commented on this post with tales of living with, smelling, and cleaning their navels. I proclaim each and evey one of them as a member of The Stinky Belly Button Club!!!!!! And, to celebrate, I suggest that all members of TSBBC take a trip together to this place……

Here we can be proud of our weird belly buttons. The freedom of decorating your belly button (that your friends and family have made fun of for years) and dancing around is overpowering (as is the smell of all those stinky belly buttons).

(What a great idea for Halloween!)

So, keep those comments coming. And…STINKY BELLY BUTTONS OF THE WORLD UNITE!!!!!!

 

I wrote the original post about Lacie about a year ago. This is the second update on her life. It’s long but I hope you read it all.

Yes, Virginia….there are real white trash, redneck people……..

I cross my fingers…hope to die….stick a needle in my eye…..the following story is true. Hard to believe but very, very true. Some of you will say…”Nah, no way. It’s impossible that anybody has a white trash person in there family with that is that  much dumbness!” I assure you….she is real.

And, her wedding was too white trash/redneck even for CMT’s redneck weddings/Tom Arnold.

I had to give it some thought before writing this post. I may appear heartless and better-than-you-are-nana nana-boo-boo (some of y’all will be familiar with that little taunt) but it’s the price I pay for my never ending drive to amuse and entertain thru blogging.

Besides, if I didn’t record the family’s history and events, who would? Do you actually think that my brother who lives in a car wash (yes, hon, this is true, too. See past post)* would have the time or inclination to be the family historian. Alright already, I know what you are thinking. She’s justifying making fun of her relatives. And, I say….Hel No, I’m not. I don’t need to justify the telling of true stories. And, if I’ve got to have them in my family then the least compensation that I could receive is the right to use them as material for my blog.

Right before midnight last night, I got a call from my niece I will call Lacie. Lacie tends to forget that some of us get up before noon and go to bed at a reasonable hour in order to do so. Lacie has never had a job and sleeps until around two-ish everyday excepton weekend when she sleeps in. Lacie is on a government disability check and is a proud card carrying lifetime member on the state welfare roll. She has 3 children, one of whom recently chose to go live withhis dad. Lacie is a hypochondriac with a habit of going to the ER via ambulance on weekend nights. I wondered for a long time why then? I got my answer thru a few phone conversations in which she mentioned several different people by name.

“And, who is “fill-in blank”, Lacie”, I’d ask her.

“Oh, I met him/her at the ER and we became friends”, she would say.

So, apparently, there are a group of people who regularly go to the ER on Saturday nite…..kinda like a social gathering. I believe they have formed some kind of club. PWVERSWR….People who visit ER’s withregularity. Lacie has actually traded photos of her kids with some of the other club members. And, the best part of this club is that it is totally free to the members. Never mind, that we, the taxpayers, are paying out of our hiney for those ambulance rides. Oh crap, don’t get me started on this. Oh wait, you didn’t. I did. Enough about massive abuse of taxpayer money. That’s for another time.

I’m sure that you are thinking, “Why doesn’t she just get to the damn point!”

Patience, dear. Patience. Without some background history, you cannot begin to appreciate the conversation that Lacie and I had close to midnight on Saturday.

Lacie has many, many illnesses. Why, the dear girl even had something wrong withher prostate! I didn’t bother telling her that she doesn’t own a prostate. She is unable to walk very far. On this one, I did try to tell her that sleeping all day and eating a diet of fried foods, chips, and cakes might be a little bit of the cause. I encourage her to get up earlier, changer her diet a bit, and maybe, try taking a small walk every day. She countered that with the fact that she gets to use the Rascals at WalMart so it wasn’t a big problem.

Lacie’s first time at driving a Rascal was somewhat un-nerving. More for the WalMart workers than for her. She got behind the wheel (oh yeah, she doesn’t have a driver’s license and had never driven anything in her life except a Big Wheel) and proceeded to mow down an entire display of greeting cards. And, a clerk. She was indignant startled knocked out of the Rascal on her very large ass. She threatened to sue. I think the outbreak of laughter whenever she told this story may have stopped that.

Lacie is, also, to put it bluntly a really, really, really bad housekeeper. If I ever had to go to her house, I stayed standing looking out of the corners of my eyes for the very large roaches that have built their own roach motels in her house. And, then, there are the 15+ cats. Maybe, more. That house is so dirty and piled up with stuff, that even I, a serious card carrying hoarder, can not take it for longer than 5 minutes.

Now, you have some background info, so on to the call right before midnight.

“ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring” Oh, my phone was ringing right before midnight. Y’all know what goes thru your mind when you get a call right before midnight. A family member is hurt. A family member has been in an accident. A loved one has died. Your brother is in the hospital on suicide watch again. Your nephew is back in jail. That kind of stuff. So, with a trembling hand, I answered it expecting the worse.

“Hello”….I couldn’t keep the fear out of my voice.

And, I hear….laughter. WTH? A prankster? I’ll trace this call and…..

“Hey! It’s me….Lacie! Guess what!? You’ll never guess! Guess!!!!!” she said.

“I dunno. You wrecked another Rascal?” I really didn’t feel like playing this game.

“Uh, uh “giggles” uh “giggles” I’m “giggles” getting married!” she said giggling.

“Really? To whom? And, when?”….I was definitely not giggling.

“To i-can’t remember-his-name (me, I can’t remember his name. She can. I hope). We’re getting married this coming weekend. And, I want you to be in it!….she was wound up tight, I tell ya. “And, I want TrailerParkBarbie t sing in it!”…….Uh oh, TPB is not going to be very happy about this.

Me….”Well, you’ll have to ask her if you want her to sing. And, exactly what am I suppose to be in your wedding? I know, I’ll be your photographer!”……….Oh yes, thank you, Lord. This pictures could be priceless! And, the video on youtube! Maybe, CMT would be interested in Her Big Redneck Wedding!!!!

Lacie….”I’ve been trying to call her”. Didn’t have the heart to tell her that TPS has caller ID. She went on,”And I won’t have a phone after tomorrow. So, will you tell her?”

Me….”Why won’t you have a phone?”

Now, it gets good.

Lacie….”Mine has been cut off because I couldn’t pay my bill. And, this one belongs to “whathisname” and it’s going to be turned off on Monday”.

Me….”Why haven’t ya’llpaid your bills?” I already knew the answer to why she didn’t. She had her land phone turned off so many times and had to come up withdeposits each time to turn it back on. The last time, she just didn’t even fool with it. The bill remained unpaid. The phone got turned off and she went and got a cellphone…..which apparently had fallen to the same neglect of payment. So, I wondered why “whathisname”’s phone was being turned off.

Here we go. A story of LOVE!

(which brings to mind this lovely poem by Nate Owens )

Lacie…”Because we were at WalMartand we were looking at rings and he bought one with his phone money!”

Lacie…”I said, ‘but, but, but, …what about your phone’? And he said, “I don’t need a phone. I need you. I need your love.” …..(Awwww, true love. Admit it, girls….you’d just melt if you heard those words…”I don’t need a phone. I need you!”) 

   “heartless snickering here“

Can’t help it. I know what she looks like and how goofy she is. And, I also, know that she gets up in time to watch her stories (Soaps) and leans toward talking like the characters when she’s talking about her life. She continued talking….

“Then, he got down on one knee right there at the jewelry counter and proposed to me“…..again. I don’t know this guy. I’ve never seen him. But, here is what I do know. He is middle-aged, has no job, and has no problem sharing her home with her mess, roaches, and cats. In other words, he’s a loser. Let me add that he doesn’t mind sharing her gov checks either.**

I’ll try to go a little faster. This is turning into a novel.

Lacie got all emotional (teary-eyed, jumping up and down, screaming) and fell over. Flat on the floor right there in front of the jewelry case at WalMarton a Saturday during the first of the monthwhich is like a major holiday in this area because of all the gov checks received at the beginning of the month. In my mind, I can see a large number of people watching this unfold. I can, also, see the manager saying to himself, “Please, God, don’t let that be the woman who wrecked the Rascal laying there in my floor. PLEASE!”

Lacie said that she had a seizure. Now, it is true that she actually does have some type of a seizure on occasion. However, her claim that she has had seizures since she was a baby and her mom didn’t know it is very questionable. Add the fact that I saw her frequently when she was a baby and never saw a seizure. I’m in the school of thought that says she actually had a brain fart (original idea) now and then and didn’t know what it was.

So, Lacie and her beloved rode the ambulance home where she took some medicine and lay down on the six cats that were sleeping on the sofa and went to sleep for a while. Then, like any good white trash woman, she got up and went back to WalMart to finish her shopping. She informed me that she had found the perfect dress and shoes…..at WalMart. The dress cost $20 and I am just praying that it does not have Taz, Mickey, or Winnie the Pooh on the front because she has a real thing for that type of  Disney fashion. I forgot to ask her what the sandals cost but I’m pretty sure they are jelly sandals

.

I proceeded to drill Lacie on details of her wedding.

Me…”So, where are you getting married and what time?”

Lacie…”I dunno. We still gotta figure that out.”

Me…”Who is performing the ceremony?”

Lacie…”Well, we have 2 preachers and need to pick one.”

Me…”Who are they?”

Lacie…”Uh uh uh….one is from a church down the street. I don’t know his name. The other one is one that I met at the ER.”

Me (trying to be helpful. Y’all stop laughing. I really was!) “Don’t you think that you need to talk to one of them a few days ahead of time and see if they’ll be available?”

Lacie…”giggle giggle” “Yeah, I guess we’re gonna have to figure that out, too.”

Now, it is almost one a.m. and I’ve had enough. I’m tired. I am not in good thinking mode and want to go to bed.

Me…”Well, did you tell your dad or your brother?”

Lacie…”Not yet. I’m gonna have to figure that out.”

Me…”Figure what out? All ya gotta do is call them.”

Lacie…”Yeah, but, uh, uh, I’m not gonna have a phone. So, I’m gonna have to figure that out.”

Me…”Well, congratulations. I really need to go to bed now. Let me know where and when.”

If this wedding takes place, I will do everything in my power to be there. Taking pics and video just so I can prove to y’all that this is true. And, besides, I’ve already got my wedding outfit picked out….a nifty sundress with Eyeore really big and right smack on the front.

Ain’t love grand.

Funny thing is, I found myself lying in bed later thinking about how much I’d like to be Lacie for a while. Do things by the seat of my pants. Not caring what other people thought about me. And, getting excited enough to go into a seizure. And….no more house cleaning!

UPDATE: 6/4/08 Lacie’s wedding has been postponed. So, all y’all who had planned on taking your vacation time to attend, please note the new date. July 4, 2008. YeeHaw….a real redneck wedding with fireworks!

Lacie just called and said that she was crossing the road and fell into a pot hole and sprained/broke her ankle. She was at the ER and had not been x-rayed yet. What is surprising to me is that she was walking across the road. Laci won’t go anywhere that requires walking. She “needs” the rascal”. (She claims)  Must have been giving away free tator chips or something on the other side of the road.

I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for the call to come with wedding details. But, when I finally got the call, it was to inform me that she had just gotten married!

DAMMIT!!!!!

Oh, sure, I’m happy for her, etc. etc. etc. But, I really wanted to attend and even better, take pics and movie. With one phone call, she wiped away all my dreams of being the next famous Youtube-er.

DAMMIT!!!!!

Instead, I was talking on the phone with the new Mrs. Lacie Drake.

Lacie Drake…..sounds like either a porn star or soap opera name. Actually, I rather like it. Presenting, for your entertainment…..Lacie Drake…..

She was plum giddy with joy. At least, I think she was but since she acts pretty silly most of the time, I can’t swear to it.

With out further rambling, here are the details that I have so far:

Lacie and Mr. Drake decided on July 1 to “just up and do it” on the 4thof July. She tried to call her dad. His phone was off the hook. She tried to call 2 uncles with no luck. She thought she had called me and let me know the details but she had not. Love makes you idle-brained (LOL that’s an inside joke to myself and I’m laughing at it). So, it was a small wedding.

Her two daughters and her son attended. One daughter sang a country song. Poor girl has never sang in public. She’s only 12. Sang with no music. Bless her heart! And, I’m not being sarcastic. I’ll bet her heart was full of music. After all, she was finally getting a daddy. I really hope that he will be good to those kids. They’ve had a hard life.

Now,everybody ready for the good parts?

Her son moved out of her house and in with his father about 8 months ago. This is not an ex-husband but a baby daddy. One of her baby daddy. Tom (name changed for protection of me) drove several hours from another state to bring his/her son to the wedding. That was very nice of him. He did something just as nice for her. I think he did it for her but could have had an ulterior motive, like making sure she got married which would most likely free him and his new wife from her harassment He has never paid court-ordered child support so there was no financial gain, either.. He bought them some wedding rings. Little gold bands. I find this to be very thoughtful but a little weird. How many of us can say that our baby daddy bought wedding rings for us and our new husbands?

I’m not sure how this came about but she got married in the Church of the Nazarene (which is a very lovely church). And, he must have been a lovely pastor because instead of the traditional couple pays the pastor, this pastor paid them since they were broke from the taxi cab ride to the church. Actually, he gave them money to go to Kroger’s or Wal-Mart and buy themselves a wedding cake. What a generous and kind thing to do!

Then, the son baby daddy offered to take the two girl’s (he’s not their baby daddy) for a few days to give Mr. and Mrs. Drake time alone (to make a porn movie? Lacie Drake just sounds like a porn name to me. But, secretly I want it. I want the name…..Lacie Drake. I want to get all decked out with a sexy dress and CMF pumps and enter a room. And announce…..Drake. Lacie Drake. That’s my name. Now, don’t wear it out. I thin that last part was from Pee-Wee’s playhouse. Of course, PeeWeeis associated with porn, too.

Drunk with love, Lacie and Mr. Drake decided to hell with a cake. Instead, they used the money to go to a traveling carnival…..where they each got to ride the Octopus, the Scrambler, the Ferris Wheel, and the Haunted House!

Got married on the 4th of July. Got to watch fireworks on your wedding night.

Got to ride the Scrambler!!!

DAMMIT! I’m pissed!!!! I didn’t get to take pictures. But secretly, I would love for my wedding to have been that cool (‘cept the not having any money part).

CONGRATULATIONS MR AND MRS DRAKE (ALONG, OF COURSE, WITH YOUR KIDS AND MANY, MANY, MANY CATS!)

1-05-09

Hi y’all…..I’ve been slacking ’round here really bad. I’ve got tons of stuff to write about. My life might not be front page gossip-column material but sometimes, it is quite interesting.

I’ll write about my White Trash Christmas in the next post. But, right now, I just can’t resist updating y’all on The Life Of Mrs. Drake.

“Lacie” aka Mrs. Drake (I still think that sounds like a porn star/soap opera name) has been pretty much unreachable until this week. Her phone was disconnected (but, hey, she did get a ring!) and I had no way to call her. Sure, I could have gone over to her house. And, I would have if I didn’t mind sharing a seat with monster-size cockroaches and more cats than The Original Infamous Crazy Cat Lady. “Lacie” has soooo many cats that her tombstone should read…..

So, since it is winter and fresh air is a scarce commodity at the Drake household, try as I might, I just could not bring myself to go visit. I figured that I’d wait until late spring/early summer so that we might be able to sit outside. I’m not exaggerating. If only I were!

Over the weekend, I got a call from Lacie (no more quotation marks. Y’all get my drift by now). She seemed deleriously happy in her married life. Truthfully, though, she seems pretty deleriouspretty much most of the time about pretty much everything.  As I have stated before, I envy her breaks with reality and the ability to live in her own Laciland. I wouldn’t mind being so clueless sometimes.

Once again, I’m getting off-subject. So, back to the Drake household. It would take a novella-size post to repeat the entire conversation so here is a Cliff-note style summation.

 Lacie left out one minor detail about her new husband. Actually, that’s not true. She left out several details about her beloved.

1. She is the fifth Mrs. Drake

2. Her dearest is a convict. When she first called (read the whole post) to announce her impending wedding, I asked her what he did for a living. She said that he did “odd jobs” aka “no job“. What I discovered in the latest conversation is that he does leave for work on a regular schedule and comes on at the same time every evening. I know those of y’all who have followed the “Lacie Saga” are just holding your breath waiting for me to tell you that I was wrong about him. Nope…not gonna do it. His “JOB” is reporting to an inmate work-release program. He got busted selling prescription drugs. And, this was before she married him.

3. Lacie still seems to believe that I desire to have conversations with her favorite cat/cats on the phone. I’m sure that everyone has bit there tongue a time or two when a friend or relative insists that you talk to little Johnny or Susie, their blabbering toddler. Try talking to someone who wants to put Stinky, the cat, on the phone. What the hell am I suppose to say to a cat….”Meow are you today? Did you by any chance see that article in Cat Fancy about……?”

4. Worse than being shoved into holding a telephone with a purring cat at the other end is being shoved into holding the phone while Mrs. Drake insist on putting Mr. Drake on the phone. What the hell am I suppose to say…..”So, how’s work-release going? Made any friends?”

5. This is sickly hilarious. It seems that Mrs. Drake #4 , also, happens to be on the same work-release program as Lacie’s man. This seems to be causing lots of problems as she (#4) has been trying to push #5 (Lacie) out of the picture so that she and Mr. Drake might reunite. Mr. Drake has gone so far as to complain and has requested to be transfered to a different WR program. His request is pending. Now that’s TRUE LOVE!

6. Lacie had a wonderful Christmas, for which I am seriously grateful. Honest, I really am. She received the following gifts from her spouse. (a) a Tigger tee (b) a stuffed cat (c) a Hello Kitty necklace (d) Fluffy cat couch throw . Is it just me or do y’all see a feline pattern here, too?

7. As I mentioned before, Lacie has 3 kids. Her son chose to go live with his biological dad about 1-2 years ago. Her daughters, age 12 and 13, presently reside with her. For Christmas (which was delayed until she got her welfare check the 1st of Jan), she got both girls a cellphone that you load with minutes. Each girl got 130 minutes when their phones were activated on Jan. 2. Today is Jan. 5. Both girls have used all of their minutes as of yesterday. I wonder if they are calling 911 a lot?

8. Lacie has been having visions of her mother who died 3 years ago. These only occur when she’s sleeping. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that they are called dreams. In the visions,  her mother is assuring her of the love of Mr. Drake, and, of his unquestionable faithfulness . Maybe, I’m too cynical, but I get the feeling that Mr. Drake is disguising his voice as a woman and talking in her ear when she is sleeping. Call me crazy but…..

9. And, finally, in the Saga of Mrs. Drake, there is one more thing.  This probably should be 8b and connected to the last paragraph but a #9 is more impressive and makes the post longer. Mr. Drake’s brother is trying to “put the moves”  (her words) on Lacie. Seems he thinks that she “has money” (her words, again).  I suppose if you are a broke-ass, lazy dude with no future, those welfare and SSI checks seem almost Trumpish.

10. I’m sure that I’ll remember more of the conversation after I post this. If that is the case, I’ll be back!

There you have it…..the latest chapter of the RL Redneck Wedding Saga of The Drakes. And, I still cross my fingers-hope to die-stick a needle in my eye swear that this is all true.

I do soooo love my family. Life is not boring ’round here.

*Footnote 1……my brother is “moving on up”. Since living in the car,  he has moved twice, bettering himself each time. He moved from the car to a car wash. He got a job at the car wash and the owner allowed him to move into the maintenance building. Very wet place. It was OK during warm weather but cold weather came and lived in a land of frozen icicles.  He now has a camper that some people from a church donated to him and is living in it. I don’t think that  this will last very long. He has a pattern of joining a church and presenting himself as humble, poor, and kind. He has a “gift” of making people feel sorry for him. Then they help him until he loses his temper and does something crazy like call the pastor an asshole or something else offensive. At the present time, he is “preaching” once a week at the church. Where in the world he got “preacher qualified”, I don’t have a clue. I’ll write more about him some day.

5-30-09 Update….

Lacie has not been phoning me or TPSkipper very often. Finally, on Friday, TPS got a call from Lacie. Her phone had been cut off again and that’s why we couldn’t reach her or get a call from her. She wanted us to know that she is moving from the house that she has lived in for the past 10 years. She got evicted due to an enormous cat population and mold growing uncontrollably thru-out the Love Shack. She told Skipper that her husband was such a thoughtful and wonderful husband that he had patched the tires on his bicycle (LOL) and ridden in to a city that was about 12 miles away to look for them a place to live. I can’t help wondering if it would not have been easier if he had just pitched in and cleaned up the mess that they were living in. Anyway, he found them an apartment and they were packing their stuff for the move. I’m wondering how many bicycle trips that it will take to move all of their boxes to their new house?

My family….dysfunctional and strange…..but, always good for an interesting true story!

 

 

I love Halloween! WIth the economy in the toilet now, I’m been busy as a one-legged woman in an ass-kickin’ contest trying to come up with frugal yet fun ways to decorate.

If you are like me and cannot at this time afford to go to Big Ruby’s Happy Hollidays Deco Store, then here are some great ideas that I’ve come up. I’ve found stuff around my house that I can use and thus, not spend a penny on store-bought decorations. I have become a regular White Trash Trailerpark dwellin’ Martha Stewart.

Feel free to steal any of these ideas.

Got kids? Grandkids? Any kids around? Head to their toy box. I found some really useful things in my friend’s little girl’s toy chest.

HANGIN ELMO

 SCARY!!!!Don’t have an Elmo? No problem! This is even scarier if you have a Baby Alive or American Girl doll. Use your imagination and hang up something unusual

 

.Got 2 or more Elmos? Here’s another great idea…..

 

I know what y’all are saying right now. That’s just too damn scary. So, if you think Removing Elmo’s Head is too frightening for your guest, you may choose just to remove Elmo’s hand. Not as scary but still gives goosebumps.

 

While rummaging around in the Little Tykes toy box, I came up with another super-dooper-guaranteed- to -bring- screams idea…..UNHOLY DOLLIESAll that you need for these heart-attack-inducing dolls are any kind of doll (baby dolls are the best, though) white chalk, and a black magic marker. If you are really creative, you may, also, use some catsup and make the dollies “bleed”. If you’re guest are really sick and unbalanced, get a baby doll that drinks and wets. There are even dolls now that “poop”. Water down the catsup, pull off doll’s head and fill the body cavity with the watered down catsup. This is also a good (sick ) way to play the old game, Hot Potato. Instead of dropping the “hot potato”, the loser squeezes the doll too hard and makes it have bloody bowel movements. Kids love this game!!!!!

 Here is a terrific outside idea. I, only, recommend this for people who are planning on painting there house soonor are card carrying Satanist

DISCLAIMER: Trailerparkbarbie is not responsible for your house still looking like this at Christmas. Please decorate responsibly.

While taking a break from painting my trailer, I got another fab idea. CHICKEN IN A TREE! BOO? NO…COCK-A-DOODLE-BOO!!!!!!

 Disclaimer: TPB is not responsible for any fainting, falling, or heart failures induced by Cock-a-Doodle-Boo. Please be responsible when putting fowl in your trees. Please remove chicken/rooster from tree within 24 hours.

Bwahahahha……just imagine the looks on your guests (or trick-or-treaters) faces, when out of no where, they hear a  screeeching rooster or hen noise coming from above!!!!!!

One more idea and then I’m off to decorate some more.

Don’t have a fog machine but wanna have the look of one? No problem! Invite all of your friends and family who smoke cigarettes, cigars, bongs, crack, or whatever. Seat them all together and when a visitor or trick-or-treater stops by……..VIOLA!

 

 

 

I hope that y’all have enjoy this chapter of White Trash Decoratin’.

Send your pictures of your party! Share the fright and fun with me.

Next time, I’ll tell you how to serve refreshments for little to nothin’!

 

AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEE and ARRRRRGGGHHHHH and SHIYUUUUUUT! I feel like running away. Lately, I’m overwhelmed with too much to do. I really need to get  my head on straight ,place both size 7 feet firmly on the ground and tackle stuff that needs to be done around here. Instead, I procrastinate a lot. I’ve been feeling so tired and experiencing periods of depersonalization. What is depersonalization, you ask?

From The Cleveland Clinic website:

“Depersonalization disorder is marked by periods of feeling disconnected or detached from one’s body and thoughts (depersonalization). The disorder is sometimes described as feeling like you are observing yourself from outside your body or like being in a dream. However, people with this disorder do not lose contact with reality; they realize that things are not as they appear. An episode of depersonalization can last anywhere from a few minutes to many years. Depersonalization also might be a symptom of other disorders, including brain disease and seizure disorders. “

Ugghuggghityugggh…..I started this post early this morning. However, I have been feeling like an extra in The Night Of The Living Dead all day. I can’t get my butt motivated today. Procrastination? Ha…I’m the QOP (queen of procrastination). Here’s to hoping that I can wax my cerebral gears or whatever soon and finish writing what I orignally intended.

In the meantime, let’s all take this little Halloween quiz that I got in my email.

Good morning, friends and occasional readers. I tried upteenth times to get back to this post  yesterday. I wasn’t even procrastinating. Just a lot of activity around here.

And, today, I’m off to the dentist for a root canal!!!!!

So, here’s what I’m gonna do…..I’m gonna write the title of the recent drafts that I’ve done and you make up your own story. And, DO PLEASE POST IT!

Here goes:

The Turkeys Are Coming

This IS Gonna Take A Truckload of Charmin

I Should Have Married The Stupid Blonde Man

My Friends Are Lookin’ Old These Days

Why Are My Tongue Cracks Deeper Than Average

Halloween…..Ways To Scare Trick Or Treaters and Steal Their Candy

So, there! Have at it! I sure am hoping that when I get back in a few hours with a sore mouth, at least one of you guys will have written something to make me laugh!

So sorry, friends and acquaintances, frequent readers, strangers who happened upon this blog while Googling for redneck life, lists, or jokes. I haven’t been around much lately. I don’t take lightly the fact that it is my mission, appointment, undertaking in this life to enlighten y’all about my white trash goings-on.

But, as I wrote in my last post, I’ve been feeling a little “out-of-body” (depersonalization) lately.  When this happens, I just don’t feel like myself. The problem is that I’m starting to like whomever it is that I do feel like.

There I go getting off topic again. Oh look…a chicken. My problem is that I lack the hyperactivity part. And, that’s a bitch. I want the hyper part, too. Now, where was I?

Oh yeah, the shing-dig. It’s HALLOWEEN and that can only mean one thing. Time for our Jolly Jack-O-Lantern get-together. This year’s theme is “President-Smesident…Let’s PARTEEEEEE like it’s 2006″! I bought these to scare the hell out of any party crashers…..

  AAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEE! Scary stuff!I stuck that line in between them because I’m tired of hearing them right now. I didn’t want them to go at it while I’m trying to tell y’all about the party.

OK….let’s get to the important part….the EATS!!!!!! I try to be a little different and daring each year. This year was sorta hard since I was busy being “somebdody else” and that SE was pushing for fancy crap. TG, I got my body back in time to make sure that we had some refreshments. I took up a collection from around the park and ended up with $17.63, a couple of WIC coupons, and $9.31 in food stamps.  This allowed me to buy 17 things from the Dollar Tree and a couple of bottles of vino el cheapo at the Stop and Save. I kicked in enough money to buy enough beer for everyone to get a little bit crazy (depending on how crazy you are to start with).

Here’s the menu. Who could possible resist these treats?

Cousin Pat is bringing her mouth watering Big Scrub Ambrosia. She tries to keep her recepie a secret but everyone ’round here knows that she goes into her pantry and gets whatever fruit she has canned this fall and mixes it all together. Don’t let on like I told you, though.

Jr. Bledso is bringing his special “Tuna Puppies” that he only makes for holidays and wakes. He takes a couple of cans of tuna and mixes it with hard boiled eggs, salad dressing, and a “special sauce” that he won’t reveal. I think that sauce is actually packets of dressing that he has collected from fast food joints and mixes together.

Jeweldeen is bringing Suki-Wawh-Suki….some concoction that she came up with after eating at Huang Young’s Oriental and Gumbo House. I don’t know what that is because she won’t tell me. She says it’s a surprise. I just hope that it doesn’t surprise us in the same way that her Slut Puppies did last year. The Wal-Greens sold out of Kaopectate and hemmroid medicine in 24 hours. I think those little Sluts had a little too much jalepeno peppers and tabasco sauce.

Nancy Cartwheel is bringing her fabulous Old Rugged Cross cake. This is just a yellow cake that she shapes into a cross. I told her that I didn’t feel that a cross was really appropriate at a Jolly Jack-O-Lantern party but she says that there is no place better to make people think about whether they are going to hell or not than one of my “sinners conventions”.

Juanita Hix is bringing her Sloppy Sloppy Joes. Good thing that I bought black trash bags to use as table cloths. Those are so tasty but will ruin the heck out of your clothes with their juice.

My next-lot neighbor, Chit, has made up a bunch of his ass-kickin’ Pit Bull Punch…..Rum, sugar, 1 orange, 1 lemon, 2 limes, and 1 gallon of Mad Dog 20/20.

I bought 5 bags of candy corn, 7 packages of wax lips (2 per pack), and some gummi bugs and worms at the Dollar Store with the money that I collected. I hit the jackpot at the Serv and Sav. I took the nine bucks in food stamps and bought 4 bags of discounted potato chips (they had been opened and had been sorta smashed) and 3 containers of out-dated sour cream. I don’t think anyone will be able to tell that it’s out of date. I never can figure out how you know when sour cream is sour. I took the rest of the food stamps and bought some Firecracker balls. You know…those hot balls that make you feel like your mouth is on fire.

So, that’s what we have so far. I’m expecting some more guests to bring stuff. I’ve gotta run out tomorrow and head back to the Dollar Tree. I found 3 one dollars and a fiver under the couch cushions. So, now, I can buy a few decorations.

Listen up, friends and stopper-bys, this is a private party. Keep the details to yourself.

Plan on COMING EARLY AND STAYING LATE!!!!!!

Oh, and RSVP if it’s possible. I need to know how many chairs to borrow from the sewing/craft/yoga/book club rooom.

It’s sure been a busy couple of days around here. I’ve been working like a little busy beaver getting ready for the annual trailerpark Jolly Jack-O-Latern Whing Ding.

I’ve got a special treat for y’all that have been invited!!!!! This is a once in a lifetime experience for some of you. Weezer Wilson came by this morning to bring his dish for the party. Guess what he brought?  OMG! I’m so excited that I can’t hardly sit still long enough to tell you.

CHOCOLATE DIPPED SQUIRREL PAWS!

Yep, you read that right. It’s been really hard for me to stay out of the Maxwell House coffee can that he brought them in. He even went so far as to roll some of them up in nut pieces and some in colorful sprinkles!!!!! Now, if that don’t make you wanna come to the JOLWD, I just don’t know what would!!!!!

Here’s a pic of Weezer at last year’s The TrailerPark Gun Club Bake-Off……… And, you single girls…listen up…Weezer is not married! He was widowed 2 years ago when his wife, Willy, fell out of the back of their pickup truck on Interstate 64. Bless her heart! She manged to hold on to the fender for well on 2 miles but lost her grip when Weezer took a sharp turn into the Biscuit World parking lot to grab some breakfast to go. Willy was such a thoughtful person…..letting her frail, elderly uncle ride in the front of the pick up on the way to the flea market. She will be sorely missed as she always did pitch in and help with celebrations at the trailerpark.

Last evening, I went shopping again for scary stuff and a few more refreshments. Before heading off to the Dollar Tree, I stopped at a locally owned store that offers up some really good bargains. They buy lots of stuff from other stores. Stuff that is slightly damaged or last year’s high-falutin’ New York type fashions. I was tickled silly when I saw that all of their Halloween merchandise was already 75% off!!!!!!  I bought some bags of black ants and a bag of little skulls. They will make great cupcake toppers. Among the Halloween stuff, I noticed that Christmas stuff was already being stocked. There was a table of cookie mixes like gingerbread tree kits and such. To my shock and dismay, I saw this……..

Now, what the hey? Who in their right mind would want to bake up a little baby Jesus? Even worse, who would want to eat HIM? I knew that I had to do the right thing and buy up all five of those kits to keep some heathern baker from buying them. My word!!!!! I do love gingerbread, though. Maybe, I can roll it into something else. Like Tom Cruise. I wouldn’t mind chewing his head off.

Well, gotta run now. It’s already 4:30 and I still got a lot of stuff to do. I gotta finish up my Axl Rose costume…….

Hope to see all of y’all later on tonight!!!!

PS…..I had to take TrailerParkSkipper to the eye doctor this morning. She has been drivin’ me plum crazy wanting some of those Sarah Palin glasses. Boy, she was really upset when they told her that they were sold out and she would have to pick some other ones. NO! She insisted on the Palin ones. I took the optometrist assistant into the back room and got her to go along with foolin’ TPS into thinking that she had the SP glasses. Whaddya know? It worked. Here’s a pic I took of her when we got home. I just know VV is going to love this!

 Ain’t she a real cutie???????!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ve never been much of a collector of anything. Well, that’s not  unless you count my dust bunny collection or my dryer lint collection……. which I had big plans to turn into art that would sell for gazillion big-ass dollars.I got that idea from a cool website.  I Saw This Lovely Picture At This Site.

But, as with almost everything else, I quickly lost interest. Then, there was the one time that I decided to collect discarded goth dolls…..…….only to discover that there are not that many. If you look at the upper right (Flickr pic), that is a discarded doll that somebody in my neigborhood threw up in a tree. I couldn’t climb high enough to get her down, though. That’s when I gave up the discarded doll idea.

But then I was given an unusal gift by TrailerParkSkipper for Christmas three or four years ago. It was a set of pottery shot glasses…..two eyes, one nose, and one mouth. I immediately fell in love with them. Since that time, I have been collecting body part pottery. The most expensive pieces that I have are Ugly Jugs/Jughead pottery heads. They are made by a native West Virgian named Ed Klimek. I love Ed’s pottery. The faces are so expressive. Ed’s wife has commented on my blog a time or two but it’s been a while since she has been around.  (Nancy, if you happen to come by, please tell Ed that I should qualify for a discount by now. OK?)

I have 13 pottery heads and most of them were made by Ed. Here’s some pictures of the Jugheads in my kitchen. I have renamed them (sorry, Ed) because each of them reminds me of a family member.

The jug on the left reminds me of my Dad. That cigarette laying in the middle of the shelf is fake. I let each of my Jugheads take turn smokin’ it.

 

 

Here, on the left, is my brother, the redneck infamous car wash dweller and flea market entrepreneur. Notice his ciggie……it stays in his mouth all the time just like in real life.   Let me introduce you to Lucy, the one in the middle. She is my latest acquistion. She is ME. Check out those hawwwt lucious lips!  I just got Lucy yesterday. It was my husband’s birthday and we (TPS and TPM and husbands) all went to Tamarack to have lunch. Tamarack is a big-ass tourist trap (except for eating lunch or dinner which is provided by the world famous Greenbrier ). Due to having to mediate hurt feelings between family members, I figured that I deserved Lucy! Lucy as my mediation award. On the other side of Lucy is Ralph, my half brother. Ralph died several years ago but that big-ass head is just like having him around still yet.

And, here we have Anna Nicole Smith’s toothless cousin, Shelley, on the left. Any ANS’s TV show watchers will know who I am talking about. On the right is my big sister, Chris.  I know that y’all are wondering if my sister was that weird looking. And the answer is….yes….and no. Yes because she had big solid black eyes (even though the Jughead’s are blue) and she had a couple of crooked lower teeth. Chris died on Mother’s Day 2 years ago. But, as with Ralph, I feel like she’s still here when I look at the big-ass head.

 

These two jugs do not look like any of my family members. The one on the left, I call “Ghetto Daddy” and the one on the right is Herman Munster. I think TrailerParkKen bought these two because he waits to go Christmas or birthday shopping until the night before and Tamarack was in low supply on big-ass heads.

I love these jugs not only for the way they look but they serve other roles. They are the “people” that I rant and biotch to when no one else is around. But, their best role is as my “audience”. I play air guitar, sing, put on dance recitals, etc. and this audience always thinks that I am da bomb diggity. They smile, whistle, and applaud (in my head) because if they didn’t, I would smash their big-ass heads!

I saved the best for last. It’s not pottery as you will see. This is, also, named Lucy. TPS bought her for me last year. I keep her at an upstairs window stitting on a little table looking out the window. I forget that she is there and when people ask me who is upstairs looking out, I go, “HUH?” Soon as they start to descirbe her, I damn near laugh my big-ass ass off……PRESENTING LUCY #1

Sometimes, I put hats and glasses on her if she looks really bored.

While I’m thinking about it, I’m going to test TrailerParkBarbie to see if she reallys comes and reads this blog. I’m about to post a picture of her that she definitely will not like. So, if I get a phone call consisting of me saying, “Hello” and than her screaming in my ear, I’ll know that she is actually reading it. But, if I get no call, then I will know that I can go ahead and put anything about her that I want to on here.

BWAHAHAHAHAHA

So, that’s my post for today.

UNLESS YOU WANT MORE PICS????????

I really wanting to post a political rant. A post about how damn stupid the coal miners are around here. And, I won’t take any crap from anybody who wants to comment about me calling the coal miners “stupid”. They are my neigbors, friends, and family members. And, they never question the UMWA telling them who to vote for in an election. There’s a possibility that my big-ass heads use their brains (which are non-exsistent) more often than these dumb asses do.

I feel better now. The last paragraph was good therapy and I didn’t have to pay a shrink a gazillion bucks!

Well, it’s finally here. For two years, we’ve been bombarded with negative ads, debates, 24/7 sound bites, and even an entire 30 minute episodes of Obama Luv Fest.

Before I write anything else, I just want to urge each and everyone of you to GO VOTE!!!! PLEASE!

I’m preparing to go vote in just a little while. I fell asleep on the sofa last night and did not do my voting ritual of laying out my special election outfit. Now, I’m in a major panic trying to find a suitable outfit.

One must present themselves as a serious person when arriving at the polling place.

Here are some pictures of the most popular outfits that you will see in my area at the polls…..

 This oh-so-daring-let-your-rolls-hang-out tank top and tight jeans is favored by the voters who go just before the polls close. These voters have been up all night listening to “Free Bird”, drinking Blue Ribbon beer, and eating canned spray cheese on crackers. After sleeping most of the day, they dress for voting and in hopes of finding an election parteeeee. I will not be wearing this one.

 Here we have the outfit worn by a voter hoping to make a little extra money at the polls (If you know what I mean. wink wink). This woman is most likely not even registered and therefore, can not vote. But, she will hang out in the parking lot offering sympathy to voters who believe that their candidate is losing. I will not be wearing this one, either.

 Around these parts, men have a tendency to squat and sit on their haunches if waiting in a line for anything. Actually, this is not limited to just men. Women may, also, be seen in this comfy, casual outfit. Zilch on this one for me but I’m sure some of my friends will be wearing it.

               And, here, we have some of the many t-shirts with sayings on the front that will be visible at the polls. These shirts are usually matched up with the butt-jeans above. I will not be wearing any of these, either.

 Definitely one of the most popular hair styles worn by white trash women (and men) standing in the voting booth line. Next most popular is the 80’s bad perm and poof….. (PS…Big Hair Envy….doesn’t this bring back some memories?)

A majority of men will be wearing the mullet or a various of it.  This next “do” comes in a very close second with men (and some women)…… This style is favored by local politicians who stand the legal amount allowed away from the polls holding signs with their names on them.

I will not be wearing any of those styles. I would be happy to wear the “poofy” but BigHairEnvy has all of the Aqua Net in the world stashed in a secret place.

Here I am inserting a picture of what the average poll worker looks like at my polling place………. Absolutely no nonsene from this lady while working. She takes her job very seriously. But, watch out!!!!! After the voting is over and all votes are counted, she’ll be doing a bump-and-grind number on top of a table at the local bar with total abandoment!!!! Please take note of the flannel shirt….another MUST in local white trash fashion.

Although, tempted to wear a flannel shirt, it’s going to be in the high 70’s here today. I’m leaning toward a cooler (temp and fashion) outfit…..now whre did I put that t-shirt that I ordered last week…..

I would just love to show you some more fashions but I gotta run. It takes a while to get my blue eyeshadow just right!

I’m shivering with excitement. Goosebumps are running the full length of my extremities.

HE’S BACK!!!!!!!! 

After wiping the tears from my eyes caused by the scene on Grey’s Anatomy of the old man trying to give CPR  to his dead wife , (did any of ya’ll see it? OMG! Soooo sad) I decided to channel surf and find something a little more light-hearted.

I ran through all the cable news programs and skipped right over every single one of them. I am taking a sabbatical (sounds religious but just a fancy word for break) from any news for a while. It’s been really difficult, too. I am a news junkie! But, I just don’t think that I could watch the news right now without totally breaking down and beating my head against the wall. But, let’s not discuss the reasons for that right now. I’m trying to purge myself of any and all images of sound bites, election coverage, candidates speaking, Shep, Greta, Bill, Hannity and the rest.

I had flipped a lot of channels when I thought that I saw Gary Busey. In rehab. In Celebrity Rehab to be exact. So, I backed up and lo and behold there he was with his big-ass capped teeth, looking crazy crazier than normal. He was talking to Tawny Kitaen, OJ’s ex-girlfriend. The last that I had heard about her, she had beat the hell out of her baseball playing husband.

I did not recognize any of the other people. One guy barely moved his mouth when talking. I became fascinated with his speaking. He kinda reminded me of a ventriloquest’s dummy. Just without the ventriloquiest. He turned out to be Steven Adler, ex drummer for Guns n’ Roses.

“Similar to the first cycle, the second season of “Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew” will follow the real-life experiences of celebrity patients undergoing detoxification and treatment at a center in the Los Angeles area. The show will follow Jeff Conaway as he checks back into rehab after a series of back surgeries, setbacks and subsequent reliance on pain medications. Joining him in rehab are Sean Stewart (Sons of Hollywood), Amber Smith (model/actress), Rodney King, Nikki McKibbon (American Idol), Steven Adler (Guns n Roses) and Tawny Kitaen (Actress). Gary Busey, who is 13 years sober, will also be joining the cast to share his experiences and thoughts on the recovery process.”…..VH1 website

Gary Busey will have great words of widsom for his fellow rehab friends.

Like:

Gary on Life Before Christ……”…the experiences that God gave me to go through…which were cocaine, which were extravagant living in the fast, fast, fast, fast, fast lane, see?”

Gary on Philosophy and the Problem of Evil….”… your shadow, the dark side. C.G. Hume writes about it, in terms of the fact that every one of us has a dark side. And my dark side, my shadow, my lower companion is now in the back room blowing up balloons for kids’ parties”.

On his recovery from a motorcycle accident….”“One night…at [the hospital], I was sitting in bed…and saw the Grim Reaper standing in the corner. He was seven feet tall, with a brown robe. He pointed to me and said, ‘Relax, it’s not your time to go. You have been given gifts. These gifts are ready to be received by mankind. So get on your feet and improve.’ Then he laughed, spun his scythe and left. I wasn’t asleep and I hadn’t been for days. Whether this was a premonition or an angel in disguise, I don’t know. But it was a positive reinforcement to stay on the road to recovery, which I’ve done.“

Excerpts from an interview done with Metal Rules magazine…..

MR: What’s your favorite cheese?

GB: (Pause)  Cake.

MR: Cake?

GB: Cake!

MR: Oh… okay.

GB: Cheesecake.

GB: “I’m doing high intensity training, science, philosophy, and nutrient supplements.  And I feel better than I’ve felt in years… since I can remember. ….  I’ve also done some intensives on the spiritual, body/mind balance.  Spirituality, mind and body balance with a lady named Carolyn Braddock.  And I have so much energy.  I mean I’ve been told by doctors and surgeons that I have the energy of ten men who have normal jobs.  And now that energy is balanced.”

MR: Now is that something that you can overdo? 

GB: What?

MR: Is it possible to overdo something like that?

GB: Overdo what?

MR: I don’t know, spirituality or the aerobics or…

GB: NO!

MR: Like anything else?

GB: NO! NO!  No, you cannot overdo that.

MR: ‘Cause the thing I wonder about…

GB: Imagine the peace symbol.  The peace symbol has three pieces in it.  One piece is emotion, that’s your body.  Another piece has spirit in it, that’s your fuel.  Another piece has intellect in it and that’s your steering wheel.  You can never overdo the fuel that goes into the body, which is the emotions and the steering wheel to drive it.

“Fear is the dark room where the Devil develops his negatives.”…Gary Busey

“ There has got to be more to life than being a really, really, ridiculously good actor.” Gary Busey

 

I could list a ton of Gary’s quotes but I’m got stuff to say about some more of the Celeb cast.

 

Rodney King….RODNEY KING” He’s the guy who said “Why can’t we all just get along?”  Isn’t he kinda non-celeb cleb? However, he does seem like the sanest one of the bunch.

 

Sean Stewart…son of Rod Stewart. WTF? Maybe, this show should be named Kinfolk of Celebrities Rehab.

 

 Nikki McKibbon and Amber Smith??? Who are they? Never heard of either one of them.

Last but not least….presenting…..Jeff Conway. If any of you caught any of the Celeb Rehab shows last year, you will know what I mean when I call him a 1st Class Nut-job!!!!

This show is one hot mess of has-beens and losers! But, it sure took my mind off real news. It ,also, gave me a great idea. Listen up all Church of the Dali Mama members……we need a couple of volunteers to develop habits bad enough to need rehab. If any of y’all already have one, that would be a big plus. See, we get one or two of us in there and start converting them to the CODC (except the nonceleb celebs). Then, we TITHED them. Right there is enough money to build us a fine meeting place! Any volunteers?????

 

I’ve got so much more to say about these “celebs” but it’s late and I’m tired. I’ll write more biting, sarcastic remarks on another post.

 

Over and out!

 

 

 

It seems lately that I just cannot catch up. There is always something going on. Some of it (I admit) I do bring on myself. Like my compulsive to buy and sell on eBay. I do make money but right now it’s not worth the aggravation and time that it takes. But, even when I have a full day, I will dwell on it and dwell on it until finally I’ll give in to the addiction. I hop in my car and go  out to the store where I buy all the marked down stuff, buy a bunch, and go home.  I’ll throw the bag of stuff on top of the other bags of stuff that I have alrighty bought to sell on eBay. Then, everytime I pass it, I feel guilty and stressed. It’s a regular cycle and I used to try to fight it but always lost. Now, I don’t even fight the impulse. I’ll stop whatever I am doing and go to that store and start all over again. Actually, I buy great quality stuff that I do make pretty good money on when I get time to list it.

Take today, for example. I woke up tired. Here’s why I woke up tired. Went to a QVC auction last night. It didn’t end until 11:30pm. I got home after midnight and had to get up to go to church this morning. Yes, I said church.  The only time that I feel halfway calm is in church. However, right after church, I drove out to THE STORE where I purchased 20 packages of men’s size 2XL tidy-whities for eBay. As crazy as that sounds, it’s probably one of the most sane things that I’ve done in that department lately. I have found my little niche’ on eBay and I hope I’m not risking offending in of ya’ll when I tell ya what it is.

It is…..”drumroll please”….ta da….Giant size undies for ladies and gents! Them suckers sell really well.

Just so you know, though, I do not sell this kind>>>>>> To be honest with y’all, though, I would if the store had them and they made me a good profit. Who am I to judge what people wear around their own home. I sure hope that guy is in his own home, for sure.

. They sell for more on ebay than in department stores. I was mystifyed by this at first but then I think that I figured it out. People who are rather larger either cannot find their sizes in stores or they do not want to go out in public and purchase them. That’s my guesses.

Back to the auction. I went two weeks ago and had “SUCKER” written on my forehead. I bought a tray full of electronics….cameras, DVD players, GPS systems, etc. I paid 95 bucks for them. My reasoning was that if just 2 or 3 electronic gadgets worked, it would be worth it. Long story short…not worth it…none worked. UNRETURNABLE! But, I had also bought two air electronic air fresheners (Ionic Breezes) and neither of those worked. But, they were guaranteed for 30 days. So, I went to the auction just to return the Breezes. I had the one intention of returning them and getting my money back. I was a little taken aback when I was told that I would not get my money back. Instead, I was issued “auction bucks”……just as good as money according to the guy at the desk. Now, I may not be Steve Forbes, but I do know that I cannot spend auction bucks at WalMart or the gas station.

This video is a lot like some auctions that I use to go to. I’ve never seen so many “holler people” in one place in my entire life as at those auctions……

The auctions that I am going to now  have either HSN or QVC merchadise.

Once again, I’ve gotten off my original posting idea.

It was, I AM TIRED!!!!!

I’m too tired after writing this much to tell you anything else that is going on. But, I can’t end this post without telling you this.

Last weekend was hubby’s b-day. My oldest daughter bought him too very interesting books. I’ll probably read them myself.

My youngest daughter, also, bought him a book. I will not be reading that one, though. The title: The History Of Ice, Cooling The South, The Block Ice Era 1875-1976.

I can feel the giggling coming on again right now. Your first question (as mine was) is who read that book? But, I had to, also, ask myself two more questions:

Who would write that book?

Who would buy that book as a gift (or for any reason).

I was gonna be nice and put a pick of that book on here so you’d see that I’m telling the truth. But, no can do—True Blood is on and I’ve just gotta see what happens to lil Miss Sooki and that onery Miss Tara ( and the rest of that crazy bunch). And, Sam is gonna reveal that he is a shape shifter and Jason is caught up with that psycho biotch….and…….I gotta go.

I know! I know! Everybody, including myself, is sick of all the election hooplah and crap. But, I got this in my email and it seriously reminds me of a lot of people around here.  I don’t know what it’s like in y’alls neck of the boogerwoods, but J-O-B-S is an ugly 4 letter word in the vocabulary of generational welfare families in these parts. Then, maybe, they are the smart ones (not!). Free health care, free dental care, clothing vouchers, food stamps, Thanksgiving/Chirstmas free dinners and food baskets, Shop With A Cop, Toys for Tots, Head Start perks for parents, and so on and so on and……

Hmmmm…..looking at all that written in black and white makes me rethink working and being self-effecient. I wonder where do I sign up?

 

 

In other news…..I came across a blog today that is written by two senior ladies who have been friends for 60 years. It’s very opionated and I don’t agree with everything that they write. But, I have added it to my blogroll because I admire the feistiness and gusto used in writing the blog. I’ve added it to my blogroll….Margaret and Helen.

Let’s see….hmmm…what else do I want to write about?

Oh….Vinyl Villager is competing with another blog on BlogExplosion. Go vote for him! He’s da bombdiggity!

And, Dear Allison, another really great blogger gave me an award which I really do appreciate. Here’s where I admit that I am a stooge when it comes to putting stuff in my side-bar. I really wanted to dispaly it and Vinyl V has offered to help me. I’m gonna take him up on it just as soon as I get some extra time. For now, I’ll just show it right here to y’all……

Go check out her blog. She’s great!!!! She writes about stuff that hits close to home for me.

I’ve really been busy lately and have been neglecting my blogging buddies. So, here’s a shout out to Big Hair Envy,  Moonbeam McQueen, Note To Self, saltedlithium, Girl From the Ghetto, and The Incredible Woody. These are not all of my buddies but frankly, I’m getting tired and it’s time to curl up on the couch in front of the television. If I have not listed you, friend, don’t worry. I promise to list you next time.

Were it not for the people that I’ve mentioned, I probably would have quit blogging by now. They do not realize (and I’ve never taken the time to tell them until now) how much encouragement they are to me. Their comments are funny, interesting, and informative. I am always pleasantly surprised to find my faithful blogging friends have commented on my posts. Even when I think the post is pretty much a piece of crap.

Here is where I was going to post a pic of a group hug but hold-the-phone-Hilda!!!!! I found something much better…….Group Hug.

From Group Hug……..

“Today I’m stopping smoking weed, for a while. It’s fucking with my head, and my voice sounds weird.

Stuff gets better without weed. If only I could get a girlfriend…”

” fell in love with my boyfriend because he didn’t treat me like a slut like all the other guys did. Sometimes, though, I wish he’d f*ck me like I was one.”

“does little happy dance”…..Guys, y’all gotta go check this out. It’s a gold mine of material for posts!

“I fart in my office whenever I want. I’m the boss. Don’t like it? Bring some air freshener. “

“Your a sick human being. Better be careful cause you might get a booger in your coffee. “

“to my coworker to finds thirty to be “old” and “scary”, f*ck you and the tricycle you rode in on. thirty’s coming for you too, bitch.”

One last thing. Then, it’s couchiepoo time.

To the chicks and Dan at Bipolar Chicks Blogging. You guys are the smartest, funniest, and most caring people that I have ever known….online or real time. I am not ignoring you. Truthfully, I’m retreating into “funny world”, where things are not allowed to get too serious. Dan, I have answered your email 4 times. Couldn’t hit the “send” button, though. All 4 times, I hit delete. I wasn’t lying when I told y’all that I cannot handle expressions of concern very well. It’s not something that I am use to. Please forgive me for you are a wonderful man and a great friend to all of us. Seriously.

Guy walked into the local welfare office to pick up his check. He marched straight up to the counter and said, ‘Hi. You know, I just HATE drawing welfare. I’d really rather have a job.’
 
The social worker behind the counter said, ‘Your timing is excellent. We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You’ll have to drive around in his Mercedes, and he’ll supply all of your clothes. Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You’ll be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips and you will have to satisfy her sexual urges. You’ll be provided a two-bedroom apartment above the garage. The salary is $200,000 a year.’ The guy, wide-eyed, said, ‘You’re bullshittin’ me!’
 
The social worker said, ‘Yeah, well . . . you started it. 

I had no idea that there were soooo many people with stinky belly buttons. But, I have quite a few responses to this post. I kinda expected a lot of comments on my poontang but not my stinky abdomen hole.

In the interest of the comfort, social status, and support of my fellow members of The Stinky Belly Button Club…..this post is for you!

You say that it’s not your belly button that you are googling? You are doing an act of kindness for a friend, loved one, neigbor or co-worker? Yeah….right! Well, here’s is a great gift idea for your “buddy”…….

Belly Button Lint Remover……

Take a long bead and stick a piece of pipe-cleaner through it, make a tiny loop at one end so it won’t come out of the bead.

At the other end, make the pipe cleaner into a circle and attach the end into the top of the bead. (So it looks like a tiny toilet brush). Stick it into a small zip bag.

Print the words, “Genuine Belly Button Lint Remover” on white cardstock, print it out and fold it, then staple it to the top of the ziplock bag.  Here’s a couple of little poems that you could include:

Don’t mean to be blunt,
but take a hint. . .
This little brush is
for belly button lint!
———-

And, if you are really disgusted by their belly odor or are dealing with clueless people, I wrote another little ditty….

If you can’t take a hint

Then learn from this ditty

Your belly button scent

Smells downright shitty!

 .  This gift can be given anonymously thru the mail or just by leaving it on the desk of your co-worker. If the offending belly button owner goes to church with you, you can slyly stick it in the hymnal that they will be using. 

In the event that the SBBC (Stinky Belly Button Club) goes global, here are names used by people in other parts of the world. This is just so we will know what they are referring to when they post about “my knob” or “my hub”.

The belly button has many names, including the fairly technical term “navel”. “Navel” comes from the Anglo-Saxon word “nafela”.

The Romans called the belly button the “umbilicus”.

The Greeks called it the “omphalos”. So if you add the Greek word “tomê” (meaning “cutting”), you get “omphalotomy”. This word means “cutting of the umbilical cord”.

Omphalos also means “knob” or “hub”. The Greeks erected a holy stone, or fetish stone, in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi (on the slopes of Mount Parnassus near the Gulf of Corinth). They called this rounded conical stone the Omphalos (or Navel), as they thought that it marked the exact centre of their universe.

The original inhabitants of Easter Island called it “Rapa Nui” (“Great Rapa”) or “Te Pito te Henua” (“Navel of the World

One-eyed Mabel (would be one-eyed nabel in German)

poopachek … Hungarian 

Mistress Smelly, Stinky and Kinky….white trash dominatrix (OK, I made that one up).

If you have another name, please feel free to add it to the list.

SBBC Activities…..

Naval Gazing….

The phrase “contemplating one’s own navel” has the ring of a long and honourable history behind it. The word “omphaloskepsis” (also called “omphaloscopy”), meaning “contemplating one’s navel as an aid to meditation”, sounds like it is thousands of years old. “Skepsis” is a Greek word meaning “the act of looking, or inquiry”. However, the Merriam-Webster web site “Word of the Day” column claims that omphaloskepsis was invented only in the 1920s.

This was not the first time people tried to find enlightenment in the navel. In the past, an “omphalopsychic” was one of a group of mystics who gazed at their own navel so as to induce a hypnotic reverie. The Greek Christian monks of Mount Athos used a specific method of navel contemplation called Hesychasm, to maximise the divine enlightenment. This method would presumably have given them many different insights into divine glory.

But another navel divination method, “omphalomancy”, gave only one specific item of information. It predicted how many children a woman would give birth to, by counting the number of knots (bumps in the fleshy plaiting) in her umbilical cord when she was born.

That was from the Great Bellybutton .

Enjoy these great quotes about belly button fluff that I found while researching belly buttons.

BBF uses

storage: “My friend collects his boyfriend’s and stores it in his teddy bear.”

clothing: “I’m saving mine to knit a jacket.”

“yeah yeah”: “I’m collecting it for my male pattern baldness . . . ”

homecraft: “I reckon we should establish Belly Button Lint collection stations, and make doonas and pillows from it. Maybe we could establish a cottage industry, and have people with spinning wheels recreating cotton and other fabrics from the lint.”

firestarting: “It’s useful as tinder when out in the wilderness.”

lighting: “Could Belly Button Lint be combined with ear wax to make a candle? This could go some way towards solving the energy crisis.”

So, let’s bring to order our first meeting of the one and only official Stinky Belly Button Club!!!! Membership is FREE but you must have a smelly belly to qualify.

 I got this in my email. I don’t know who wrote it. If anyone knows, post it in a comment and I will be more than happy to give them credit for it.

This is for my blogger friends who have small businesses. ENJOY!

Fellow Business Executives:

As the CFO of this business that employs 140 people, I have resigned myself to the fact that Barrack Obama is our next President, and that our taxes and government fees will increase in a BIG way.

To compensate for these increases, I figure that the Clients will have to see an increase in our fees to them of about 8% but since we cannot increase our fees right now due to the dismal state of our economy, we will have to lay off six of our employees instead. This has really been eating at me for a while, as we believe we are family here and I didn’t know how to choose who will have to go.

So, this is what I did. I strolled thru our parking lot and found 8 Obama bumper stickers on our employees’ cars and have decided these folks will be the first to be laid off. I can’t think of a more fair way to approach this problem. These folks wanted change; I gave it to them.

If you have a better idea, let me know. 

……cabin fever!

Monday morning…Nov. 17

Dear Diary (and loyal readers of which I am up to 9 now),

It’s been snowing on and off here for a few days. Actually, it’s quite lovely. It’s kinda Norman Rockwellish. I can look outside my window and see deer eating or running thru the snowy front field.. Aren’t they just precious? God’s creatures. I could just sit for hours and watch them frolic!!!! As a matter of fact, I’m gonna fix me a big-ass cup of hot cocoa (maybe, even throw a few mini marshmallows in) and just relax and watch Bambi and friends play their (rein)deer games.

Monday afternoon…..legs getting a little stiff. Think I’ll go out and see if I can get close enough to one to touch it. I’ll come back and report whether or not I could do it.

Got really close to the next to the largest. But, then something really crazy happen. It opened it’s mouth and let out a sound that resembled a cross between a small child screaming and a werewolf. I immediately started backing up very slowly under the watch of it’s huge, dark eyes. That’s when I remembered all the stories that I’ve read and see on the news about deer attacks. I started backing up quite a bit faster. Finally, the deer turned and went the other way followed by it’s deer-homies. I sat on the porch a few minutes to make sure those beasts were gone (and checked to see if I had peed my pants) and then decided to walk out thru the snow into the field. I might mention here that boredom had started rearing it’s ugly head. When I got out to the field, I fould the deer had left me a parting gift…. Actually, the turds were theirs. I made a smiley face with them. Boredom up to Level 2 now.

So, I went back in and mixed some hot cocoa, threw it in the sink, and drank some wine instead.

Tuesday morning,

Woke up with a knot on my shoulder from the flu shot that I had gotten very eary Monday morning (before that crappy snow started coming down). But, I went outside, swept snow off of the porch and off my 4WD Jeep. I had to go out. Norman Rockwell can kiss my ass.

Now, some of you may remember that I posted a good while back about car shopping. My Jeep had several years on it and was making some noises that sounded like a whale farting. Being the gigantic procrastinator that I am, I hadn’t gotten around to deciding what kind of car to buy yet. Oh well….I would just ignore the whale farts and go to the post office and maybe, to Wally World or the grocery store. I took my shower and got all snazzy-Mayed up. I decided to start my car and let it warm up while I ate a yummy (not) Lean Cuisine for lunch. After lunch, I picked up my purse, put on my coat and headed out. I had forgotten one important thing……my heater/defroster only worked sporadically. Crapola!!! I went to the basement and hunted around until I found a can of defroster spray. It was almost empty but I figured I had enough to clear my windshield. Being in this predicament before, I knew from experience that the windshield would not stay clear long and I would have to move FAST!  I cleared a spot big enough to partially see thru and drove straight to an auto supply place to buy a portable fan. I had heard that you could buy one that hooked into your car ciggie lighter. Luckily, they did have one…ONLY ONE…left. I thanked my lucky stars and bought it. I was a little taken aback that it only cost $15.00 but I just thought I was having good luck.

NO! I was not having good luck. They did not have just one left. They had the only one that they had ever had in stock for the last 10 years left. Let me give you an idea of how strong that heater/defroster was. I could pull my seat up as far as it would go in order to get my face as near as possible to the windshield and gently blow and it would have worked better than that piece of cheap crap. I figured that I had better go back home. The roads were pretty bad and the snow was still coming down. Plus, I now know what it would be like to try to drive if you are blind. I could not see a damn thing. I had to drive about 12 miles an hour on a 4-lane road with a speed limit of 65 to avoid a high speed crash. A few rude people almost caused me to have a slow speed crash by coming up behind me and laying on their horns. WTF did they think? Scaring the shit out of me would clear my windshield?

Tuesday evening…..

My son-in-law, a few days earlier, had talked me into signing up as a distributor for Monavie. Monavie is being touted as the new miracle cure for almost everything.

Monavie……

MonaVie Active® Juice

 

MonaVie™is a delicious and energizing blend of the Brazilian acai berry – one of nature’s top super-foods – and other nutrient dense fruits. Developed with the philosophy of Balance-Variety-Moderation, MonaVie products deliver the phytonutrients and antioxidants you need to maintain a healthy and active lifestyle.

 

MonaVie Active Juice contains the additional benefits of glucosamine and esterified fatty acids.

The pushers of MonaVie claim that this purple miracle juice cures everything from acne to constipation to cancer. I am so gullible about miracle cures that I let him lead me thru signing up to be a distributor. I have no intention of selling it to but one person….myself. I was feeling pretty silly when he asked me for a profile name and I responded with “Iliketoshit” in reference to the constipation cure aspects of the juice. It was pretty funny when I got an acknowledgement email addressed to “Iliketoshit”.

It is recommended that you drink 2-4 oz of MonaVie 1-2 times a day. The only problem with that is it cost $30 a bottle and only has 21.5 ounces in a bottle. This could be a quite expensive experiment.Being the good wife that I am, I hid the bottle from hubby. No sense getting his hopes up about the miracle juice until I try a WHOLE bottle first, right?

There is a website named The Purple Horror that I found to be quite an entertaining read. It was sooooo interesting that I lost track of MonaVie consumption and drank the entire bottle. Uh oh….not good. Was I going to get the running shats? Glad to report that I didn’t. There goes the constipation cure claim.

Wednesday…….

……Remember the movie, “The Shining” adapted from the Stephen King book? Jack Nicholson chopping down the door with an ax and sticking his big-ass head thru it? Well, that is how I am starting to feel….like a crazy person stuck in a big hotel in Nowheresville.

“Little pigs! Little pigs! Let me come in! Not by the hair of your chinny-chin-chin! Then I’ll huff! And I’ll puff! And I’ll blow your house in!” Jack Nicholson (Jack Torrance) in The Shining

By now, I’ve read a whole book, cut my fingernails and toenails. I’ve dusted all the vents in my house and done all the laundry. I’ve watched everything that I have recorded on my DVR. I am so friggin’ bored that I am considering making prank calls even though I know everyone has caller ID.

“”Here’s to five miserable months on the wagon, and all of the irrepairable harm its caused me.” Jack Nicholson (Jack Torrance) in The Shining

This is where it gets ugly, I’m ashamed to say. I pull the case (yes, I bought a whole case) of Mona Vie out of hiding and start drinking. It’s full of good stuff. Couldn’t hurt me, right?

I spent the next couple of hours watching re-runs of My Big Redneck Wedding and drinking magic juice. One and 3/4 bottles……

I don’t feel so swell right now. But, a call to 911 might break up the monotony!!!!!

Gotta run now…..seriously….Iliketoshit has to.

Great! Just great!!!!!!

I been suffering from insomnia for a while now. I usually have trouble sleeping for several nights in a row. Then, thankfully, I have a nice, restful night.

Tonight should be my restful night.

“Beyond any doubt, any woman is going to surprised with your really big.What are you waiting for? It’s going to be way too simple!”

 

I got this is in my email. Normally, I delete spamed crap like this. But, for some unexplainable reason, I caught the words “your really big” before my finger hit the delete button.

Now, here I am. It’s almost midnight. I can’t stop wondering and asking myself…..my really big WHAT?

banana?……. 

cry-baby, bald naked man in the corner?

……horned cheeseball head?

hair?……

 

My big whaaaaat? I just do not know.

Just a mere 57 minutes ago, I was ready to go to bed and sleep. Now, here I sit. Wondering about what is it that she/he was talking .

But, even worse, how does he/she know that it’s big???????

I’ve been pretty busy lately but darn-it, I can’t let y’all down this year. Last year’s WT gift ideas was pretty popular. This year, with the economy in the toilet, I feel that it is my White Trash duty to help you come up with gifts for each and everyone on your lists!

And speaking of toilet…..This Mammy toilet paper cover will just scream “Ho Ho Ho” all year long. You can find the instructions here. Can’t crochet? Neither can I!!! So, I just buy a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth, smash the head off of it and just use it straight up on the toilet paper. Make sure that all glass shards are off of it, though. Otherwise, you will have to make the gift receiver one of these….To make your own soulful first-aid kit, cut bandage shapes from colored paper, write out motivating quotes (ex. Be careful with glass around your ass!) and well-wishes, and present them in a doctored-up bandage box. What kind of Scrooge would not enjoy reading motivational words what sitting on the john??????

I can hear some of you saying right now, “But, TPB, I can’t afford yarn much less Band Aids or Mrs. Butterworth. Never fear, my friends. This next gift is my personal fav. And, the best thing is…it’s TOTALLY FREE!

Gift certificates and coupons……FREE! FREE! FREE! How? Easy as 1-2-3. Go to your local post office at least once a day. If possible, make several trips. Make sure that you are carrying something that looks like mail that either you have received or are going to stick in the box. Casually, cruise the trash cans. Train your eyes to spot discarded goodies. I, personally, have recovered $10 off $10 for JC Penney’s, Fashion Bug,Kohl’s and Lane Bryant. Keep your eye peeled for discarded magazines. I haven’t paid for a magazine in well on 5 years. For the little ones…..look for envelopes with return addresses such as Society for the Blind, Disabled Veterans and such. These usually contain FREE stuff like bright stickers for that little one on your list. Two years straight, I lucked out and got Christmas cards and calendars…..big buck savers!!!!!!

However, you probably want to wait until the lobby is empty. You don’t want to run the risk of being accused of stealing people’s identities. Some people get down-right nasty if they see an envelope with their name on it in your hands. But, IMO, they shouldn’t throw good stuff away! Nosey boogers!!!!!!

Here’s one that has proven popular year after year……Handmade jewelry. String something on fishing line or thread. Suggestions of things to string…..marcaroni, popcorn, Fruit Loops, Cheerios (any cereral with a hole), penne pasta, marshmallows or anything that you have laying around that will accomodate a needle. Got an extra buck or two? Go to the Dollar Store and buy some spray paint and decorate your jewelry in festive colors.

Now, here’s a thougtful present that’s sure to please the office worker on your list. A paper weight! The second part of paper weight is weight. Just go outside and look around until you fin a big-ass rock. Then use your imagination to decorate it. Glitter it! Write something endearing with a magic marker on it.Tie a big bow around it and there ya go!  That’s not exactly the rock that I had in mind, but, hey…..he’d do just fine!

Ornaments….Take different sizes of paper cups, wrap outside with Dollar Store aluminum foil. Turn upside down and VOILA…a silver bell for your favorite person.

Next time, we’ll learn how to make decorations out of discarded stuff or things that you already have around the house.

Such as….TAMPON LIGHTS…

Who says that you need money to spread the joy of the season????

Things

I seriously wish that I could take credit for the following, but I can’t. I found this on Tampon Crafts. I sure wish that I had thought of this first.

“Your period comes every month, but Xmas comes only once a year. So bring that menstrual joy to this holiday season with these tampon tree decorations. From a string of tampon lights to a star at the top of the tree, feminine hygiene has never been so festive!”

This one is for Big Hair Envy….

 

CHECK THIS OUT!!!!! I’m gonna hang these babies all over my mobile home this holiday season. Oooieeee! Soooo purdy that I can’t wait to go to the Dollar Store uptown tomorrow! Your friends and relatives will be so jealous when they see these festive babies!

These festive tampon “lights” will brighten up your tree, or add a cheery touch to a window or doorway.

 Easy instructions at the Tampon Christmas craft site. While you are there, be sure and check out the fab New Year’s Eve ball, pan flute, and other fantastic (and cheap) ideas. There is even a craft/gift for the bald guy/woman on your list. Looky at this…..

HAIR>>>>>>> Uncle Jack won’t need Hair Club For Men after he gets this beaut!!!!!

Whoever does the Tampon craft site is a downright brainiac in my opinion. But, I can claim credit for this idea. Dip the tampons in your favorite body splash or cologne. Not only will they look festive but your house will smell great! Or, make a set for that hard to buy for person on your list. Dip them in their fav scent. They will think about you everytime that get a whiff of that colorful “woman’s item”.

Here’s another little tip/idea…..limit the number of “lights”  to 4 or less. Dip them in Pine-Sol or Dollar Store brand pine cleaner. Great smellin’ air fragrences for pick-ups and cars.  (Ladies…..these can, also, be used to mark your terrority).

Tampons….not just for that time of month (wink wink) any longer!!!!!

If you’re like me, you’ve been wondering what to do with all those empty Valium, TylenolPM, and vitamin  bottles that are laying around in your secret personal bathroom cabinet. Well, here’s a handy-dandy craft/gift that will use those suckers up so fast that you’ll have to doc-shop to fill  find something else to keep there.

Medicine bottle snowman…… Directions for making this lovely item can be found here. Check it out. There are lots of other cheapass thoughtful gifts on that site.

If you’re like me, cash flow has become almost non-exsistent since AIG took us (the honest, hard-working tax payers for a ride 2 or 3 rides). And,  you’re agonizing about what to do for a gift for that damn show-off fashionable friend or co-worker whose name you drew this year. Fret no more, friends! It’s an anything-goes fashion season when it comes to accessories. Make a necklace!!!!! All this requires is some fishing line, quilting thread, or dental floss and items that are just gathering dust in your house.

LOOKY! LOOKY! LOOKY!!!!!!!!

  This necklace actually won an award here. A teletubbie, a set of hooters, something aluminum, beads, and who knows what the hell else. You can be just as creative! Get busy picking up stuff that’s rolled under your couch. Good way to “re-gift”, too. Put those hand knitted ear muffs from Aunt Gert on a string. Use your imagination. Find stuff and string it. What could be easier. And, ya don’t even have to worry about something being to heavy to add. Anybody who would wear a bigass necklace like this is probably already weighted down by gaudy earrings in 8 holes in their ears and enough bangle bracelets to doll-up an entire Miami bridge club.

So, no excuses. No whining. No reason to not give to everyone on your list this year.

Next time, I’ll be giving some great ideas for holiday eats and treats….white trash style.

I am a master of the fruitcake face.

Definition. …fruitcake face….The surprised look on your face after opening a gift of something truly awful or unwanted (like that fruitcake that has been passed around amongst your family and friends for decades). Masters of the fruitcake face have learned to change a look of horror into a look of surprise in less time than it takes one to blink their eyes.

It takes years of practice to master a presentable fruitcake face……one that doesn’t cause hurt feeling, streams of profanity being blurted out, or broken relationships.

It takes lots of time in front of a mirror to perfect the fruitcake face. You will have graduated from look of shock to look of feigned surprise when you know that your reaction has made the giver feel warm and pleased with themselves.

Before mastering the fruitcake face……………

 

After mastering the fruitcake face…………….

There is no contest when it comes to what group is the best fruitcake face people. MOTHERS! When little Prissy brings home that uglyass wreath made out of plastic soda rings and trash bags in first grade, that’s when we realize the importance of FCF.

Remember when your precious little one got off the school bus on the last day before Christmas vacation carrying something that looked similar to this:

 Uh huh….the infamous trash bag Christmas wreath. I couldn’t post a picture of TPSkipper’s because a couple of years ago, I made her take it home and hang it on her door. That girl is creative, I’ll tell ya. It had lights, paper bows (which you had to glue back on everytime it was touched), and other items that were unidentifiable. This is a mother’s/father’s first lesson in fruitcake face.

Lil one gets off the bus with a something that is bigger than they are. Then it clicks. That’s where all your white trash bags were going! And, we have to hang it up. Otherwise, your child could be in therapy for the rest of their life.

The next year, to my complete horror delight, she came home with about 2 dozen of these……..

 Those little hands have gotten more control since last year. She is now able to make smaller things. Which means……more things. There were sooooo many of these candy cane ornaments on our tree, there was no room left for any other ornaments.

Then, you fool yourself into thinking that by grade 5, teachers will have the kids do something nice……like a poem or card. But, nooooooooo………..instead they have a bonafide art class where they encourage the kid’s originality. This is what I was presented with that year…….. It’s suppose to be one of the wise men presenting a gift to baby Jesus. Yes, I know that it looks like Gumby brandishing a large stick in anger. Think that’s somethin’……ya should have seen the manger scene. The only way that I can describe it would be…..a Gumby gang surrounding and threatening some homeless street people. Just indeedy…..fruitcake face required.

Actually, all of these bring back memories which bring a smile to my face. Not nearly as big as the grin I get when I think about making TPSkipper take those to her house and display them!!!!!!

I went thru the same thing all over again with TPMidge. By that time, I was an expert FruitCakeFace person.

There have been lots of fruitcake face moments in my life. But, one that stands out among the rest is the one that I had to  display at the Christmas gift that my  mother-in-law gave me a few years ago. I like to open my presents after watching others open there’s. MIL had done a good job that year. Levi’s for all the guys, gift certificates and lotions for the ladies. So, I was a fully expecting the same. It felt like a bottle of something (presuming lotion) and was the weight of a nice bottle of Bath and Body Works lotion.

Imagine my surprise when I opened it to find this:

……a bottle of Ivory liquid hand soap. They have changed the looks of the bottle since then. I know because I can remember it clearly….. up a white bottle of Ivory soap.

HUH?????????? I’m not the only one who thought that because the the entire family group got really quiet. This had to have been my Oscar winning Fruitcake Face display. I seriously, did not know what to say. So, I just put on my FCF. As far as I could tell, I only had two things that I could say……

“Thank you!!!!!! How did you know that I’ve really been wanting this?”

or

“WTF??????????? Are you saying that I’m dirty? This is the most awful present that I’ve ever gotten!”

Although, my lips were ready to say the second, I said the first.  After all, this was suppose to be a season of joy and love.

 

So, there. This is just one more service that I am providing my readers. Start now. Go in front of a mirror and practice your FCF right now. Then, you’ll be ready for anything this holliday season.

I’d love it if you’d take a sec and post your worse Christmas gift and how your reaction when you received it. Come on……share that moment with us!!!!!!!

Got this in my email today and just had to share it with y’all! If you’ve seen if before, it won’t kill ya to read it again. 

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?      

 

*SARAH PALIN:*  Before it got to the  other side, I shot the chicken, cleaned and dressed it, and had chicken  burgers for lunch.   

*BARACK OBAMA:*  The chicken crossed  the road because it was time for a change!  The chicken wanted  change!  

 

*JOHN MC CAIN:*  My friends, that chicken crossed  the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and  dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the  road.   

 

*HILLARY CLINTON:*  When I was First Lady, I  personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience  makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One that every  chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road.  But then, this really isn’t about me. 

*GEORGE W. BUSH:*  We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not.  The chicken is either against us, or for us.  There is no middle ground here.

   *DICK CHENEY:*  Where’s my  gun?  

 *COLIN POWELL:*  Now to the left of the screen, you  can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the  road.

   *BILL CLINTON:*  I did not cross the road with that  chicken.  What is your definition of chicken?   

*AL*  GORE:*  I invented the chicken.

   *JOHN KERRY:*  Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it!  It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about  the chicken’s intentions.  I am not for it now and will remain  against it.  

 *AL SHARPTON:*  Why are all the chickens  white?  We need some black chickens.

   *DR. PHIL:*  The  problem we have here is that this chicken doesn’t realize that he must  first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes  after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is  help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not taking on his current  problems  before adding new problems.   

*OPRAH:*  *Well, I  understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to  cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his  mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I’m going to give this  chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his  life like the rest of the chickens. 

  *ANDERSON COOPER, CNN:*  We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been  allowed access to the other side of the road. 

*NANCY GRACE:** *  That chicken crossed the road because he’s guilty! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks. 

 

Keeping with the Christmas theme, here is a picture of a gift that TPSkipper bought me last year.

 

 

Yes, she did actually give me this. What can I say? She shares my weird sense of humor! She wrote a note that said, “I love you. You will always have my heart!”

“sniff sniff” ‘Cuse me while I dab my eyes!

I received an email from this site.  They have asked permission to use this picture in The Hall Of Bad Gifts!

I’m so honored!!!!! But, I am kinda surprised that they didn’t ask for this one, too.

 

TPSkipper and I went to an arts and crafts show a couple of months before Christmas last year. I spotted this Tammy Faye/Lucy lookalike and fell in love with it. It wasn’t even for sell but someone she managed to talk them into selling it. It was one of my fav gifts ever. I have her sitting in my upstairs window and have been asked by people who that is in the window. LOL

 

She’s one of my favorite things to photograph. I’ve got a bunch of her on another computer. I have one more of her on this one. I call it “Lucy In The Sky Without Diamonds”…….

 

I’m wondering what is in store for me this year? That TPSkipper sure makes Christmas fun!!!!!! That child is One Hot Mess (Jr.).

“hearts to TPS”

Lots of craziness going on around here lately.
1.Fight with daughter #1
2.Fight with daughter #2
3.Depressing visit to sister WHICH did have some very funny moments.
4. Ho Ho Hell No…not in the mood for buying this year.
5.Shame, shame! Shame on me…don’t even have a Christmas tree.
6. Quit Cymbalta…not by choice. Noooooo…..ran out!
7.Damn insomnia is back. Now, I roam at night and feel sorry for myself.
8.Energy has been sucked out of me by newly discovered type of vampire…The Vacupire.
9.Crying at the smallest things….must be drug withdrawal. Getting desperate enough to go score some good old timey street drug such as whacy baccy. (JK…or am I?)
10.Overwhelmed with lots of stuff to do!

 

Too tired to write more. Besides, my tears keep making me hit the wrong damn key! And, I can’t find my “shitckake” pic. I wanted to award it to myself, dammit!

And…how’s your life going? Feel free to share. Maybe, if we can get enough people, we could form a circle and have a IHE (I’ve Had Enough!) group meeting. Or, an AB (Angry Bitch) get together.

Anybody game? Come on. Let it all hang out here. I promise not to judge. Can’t say that I won’t laugh, though.

I found the cure for my holiday bad mood that I wrote about last night.

 

You MUST listen to this all the way through.

 YOU’RE WELCOME!!!!!!!

Shitcake for all!!!!!!

Today is Call In Gay Day.  You can read about it here.

FYI…this is not an anti-gay post. I have friends and relatives who are gay and I love them very much.

I was thinking about my mom and dad. I was a very late in life baby so if they were alive, they’d both be pretty old now.  Just think Grandpa McCoy on the Real McCoys.

 

“The McCoy family moves from the mountains of West Virginia to California’s San Fernando Valley. The leader of the clan is Grampa–a cranky old geezer with a distinctive voice and gait–but underneath it all, he has a heart of gold. Living with him are his grandson, Luke, and Luke’s bride, Kate. Due to the death of Luke’s parents, these three adults are raising Luke’s teenage sister,… “

One of my blogging buddies once commented that they liked the “rabbit holes” that I took them thru on my posts…..meaning that I start to write about something and end up going off on another tangent altogether. I never had the heart to tell her that I’m really not smart enough to do that on purpose. it’s how my bipolar and ADD mind…..oh looky! a chicken!!!!!!

And, right now, I feel another rabbit hole taking over my original intentions. I’ll do my best to get back to the original topic but can’t guarantee it.

My dad was in his early 60’s when I was born. So, me being XX number of years would make him older than dirt if he were alive. He actually served in the Army with Grandpa McCoy (Walter Brennen). I’m sure that’s why I remember so much about The Real McCoys. At least one half dozen times a week, I remember being told this:

 ”Grandpa McCoy was in my platoon!”

As if that wasn’t enough, Walter Brennen sent my dad an autographed copy of his song, “Old Shep”. This has to be THE saddest song ever.

FYI…Elvis Presley remade this song.

Being subjected to “Old Shep” on a regular basis may explain some of my dysfunctional (and embarrassing) behavior such as breaking into fits of wailing and beating myself about the head and neck when I see an elderly man walking his dog.

. This is most unfortunate as I have been banned from several dog shows and nursing home craft sales.

OK…I just remembered what this post is suppose to be about. Call in Gay Day. I can remember the first time that I ever had an inkling that gay people even existed. I was eavesdropping on a conversation between my parents. This was a normal habit of mine and my siblings. Our parents were not like parents of today (including myself). They did not feel the need to explain life, love, death, etc. with “how-do-you-feel-about-that talks. This was a plus in some ways. No squirming in embarrassment from it-is-my-duty-as a parent-to explain “insert subject here” to you talks. On the other hand, we ended up with warped and sometimes scary information about life. On the evening that I was hiding behind a lilac bush listening to my mom and dad’s porch chat, I distinctly remember my mother saying……”Junior’s mother walked in and caught him in Billy’s pants”. Junior, a year older then me, was a boy who lived directly across the road from us. Billy was his best friend and lived on a farm a few miles away. Being very unwordly (and Old Shep brainwashed, I guess), I interpreted that sentence to mean this……Junior had apparently put on Billy’s pants. I wasn’t sure why this would be discussed in a hush-hush whisper kind of voice but I did know that it was frowned upon. For many years afterward, I would not wear anybody else’s pants. In the 9th grade, my best friend, Ruthann, wanted to borrow a pair of jeans and I was horrified. I mean, afterall, she was my very best friend in the whole world. She was the kind of friend that you dared to kiss so-and-so and had to reciprocate when she dared you back. Ruthann and I kissed a lot of boys that year since neither of us wanted to appear “chicken”. She was, also, more wordly than I was. She had lived in town for her whole life while I was just recently transplanted from the country.

So, it was Ruthann who in fits of giggles told me what my mom and dad were talking about that day on the porch. Ya know….I can still smell those lilacs.

This morning I was thinking about what my mom would say about “Call In Gay Day”. I’m pretty sure that she would have said this…..

“Call in gay? Why on earth would you do that? Wouldn’t it make more sense to call in when you’re sad so you could stay home and cry?”

And, I wonder how many redneck, macho men went to work while sick today?

“what those darling Obama girls will be wearing on inauguration day”……according to Inside Edition.

errr….No, I’m not. I’m not wondering about that at all. So, you are exaggerating or down-right lying, Inside Edition. Actually, I don’t give a rat’s ass what they will be wearing and haven’t given it one second of thought.

At least, I wasn’t thinking about it until you blasted me with that newsworthy  totally stupid statement at 7pm this evening. I’m still not wondering what they will be wearing but am wondering why you would think that everybody is wondering. 

Let’s go ahead and settle this so millions of people won’t stay up every night, losing sleep, and being unable to function day to day until Jan. 20, 2009.

They will wear fancy-smancy, expensive frocks which will most likely be given to them by some posh, unaffordable -to- regular people designer hoping to  make mucho-moolah from the free advertising. You can bet your investigative skills that those lil darlings will be all decked out. Maybe, in something like this…..

From the MommyLivesHerLifeThruMeLine

 

 

 

Or, maybe from the DaddyIsRichandaCrazyScientologist line….

Prehaps they’ll choose a little sumptin-sumptin from IEmployMyMulletWearin’DaddyLine…..

So, many possibilities!!!!!  How ’bout……FutureCBlock#21789Line…

Guess you’ll just have to wait and see!

Now, on a more serious note. I am wondering why (239) 482-3803 UnknownName keeps calling my house. Actually, that’s not true. I know why (239)482-3803, Ken Robinson of Florida
Fort Myers, FL (Florida) 33913 is calling. Because he/they/she is a SCAM ARTIST. Do not answer any calls from this number. I’ve been thru this crap before and have enough common sense to not answer. Instead, both times, I did internet searches which revealed information. 

Today’s shitcake goes to Ken Robinson……

Just one more public service, friends!

no time fo a post right now.

But….if any of you are Christopher Walken fans, you just have to go see  TragicallyUnhip’s blog

I needed that almost as much as more cowbell.

I have a habit of leaving my television on 24/7 ever since the 9-11 tragedy. Most of the time, the sound is turned down.  It was on today when I went to take my shower. This time, the sound was not muted, but turned on low. It was so low that I couldn’t even hear it when I turned on the water and got in the shower. My shower is a steam shower and when the steam comes on, it makes a noise equal to standing next to cappuccino machine.

I had just lathered up my hair with shampoo when I heard a lot of loud shouting coming from the television. And, to hear it over the steam contraption, believe me, it had to be fairly loud.

My heart started beating rapidly. What had happened?  Thinking that a bunch of murderous terrorists had done some more evil, I jumped from the shower and quickly wrapped myself in a towel. I took off running to the bedroom with scenes of bloody horror playing in my head.

Ya wanna know what it was? Sure ya do. It was this…….

Damnsaminapepsican!!!!!! This guy ’bout gave  me a heart attack.

Why does he have to scream like that?  How many people have bought this glue product that works like magic out of fear and intimidation?

I say that we should band together and stop the insanity (to quote Susan Powder) before someone gets seriously hurt.

Imagine your gramma or grampa innocently dozing off during Sit and Be Fit on PBS  only to be awakened by the manical shouting of  Mr. Billy Mays. What a terrible thing to find gramma sitting dead right in the middle of a upper torso stretch.  Or, you go over to check on the elderly guy next door since you haven’t seen him out walking his dog, Myrtle, for a week. Imagine the absolute shock of finding him on the couch bent from the waist . His head is almost touching the floor as if he were checking for his dentures which did fall out when he dropped over dead from being yelled out by Billy Mays.

I say let’s stop this!!!! I say boycott all products advertised  by screaming maniacs.

     Just got these in my email and thought that I’d share them.

(FYI…This is a picture that I took while playing with some of my toys)

   Two elderly ladies are sitting on the front porch in Bonita Springs , doing nothing.

 One lady turns and asks, ‘Do you still get horny?’ 

 The other replies, ‘Oh sure I do.’

The first old lady asks, ‘What do you do about it?’

The second old lady replies, ‘I suck a lifesaver.’

After a few moments, the first old lady asks, ‘Who drives you to the beach?’

 
Three old ladies were sitting side by side in their retirement home in Ft. Lauderdale reminiscing. The first lady recalled shopping at the green grocers and demonstrated with her hands, the length and thickness of a cucumber she could buy for a penny.

 The second old lady nodded, adding that onions used to be much bigger and cheaper also, and demonstrated the size of two big onions she could buy for a penny a piece. 

The third old lady remarked, ‘I can’t hear a word you’re saying, but I remember the guy you’re talking about.

 

Two elderly people living in Ft. Myers , he was a widower and she a widow, had known each other for a number of years. One evening there was a community supper in the big arena in the Clubhouse.

 

The two were at the same table, across from one another. As the meal went on, he took a few admiring glances at her and finally gathered the courage to ask her, ‘Will you marry me?’
After about six seconds of ‘careful consideration,’ she answered ‘Yes. Yes, I will!’!!!!!!

The meal ended and, with a few more pleasant exchanges, they went to their respective places. Next morning, he was troubled. ‘Did she say ‘yes’ or did she say ‘no’?'  

He couldn’t remember. Try as he might, he just could not recall. Not even a faint memory. With trepidation, he went to the telephone and called her.

First, he explained that he didn’t remember as well as he used to. Then he reviewed the lovely evening past. As he gained a little more courage, he inquired, ‘When I asked if you would marry me, did you say ‘ Yes’ or did you say ‘No’?’ 

He was delighted to hear her say, ‘Why, I said, ‘Yes, yes I will’ and I meant it with all my heart.’ Then she continued, ‘And I am so glad that you called, because I couldn’t remember who had asked me.’   

A man was telling his neighbor in Miami , ‘I just bought a new hearing aid. It cost me four thousand dollars, but it’s state of the art. It’s perfect.’ 

‘Really,’ answered the neighbor. ‘What kind is it?’ 

‘Twelve thirty.’ 

Morris, an 82 year-old man, went to the doctor in Estero to get a physical. A few days later the doctor saw Morris walking down the street with a gorgeous young woman on his arm.
A couple of days later the doctor spoke to Morris and said, ‘You’re really doing great, aren’t you?’ 

‘Just doing what you said, Doc : ‘Get a hot mamma’ and ‘be cheerful.”,Morris replied. 

To which the doctor said, ‘I didn’t say that, Morris. I said, ‘You’ve got a heart murmur, be careful!’

 

A little old man shuffled slowly into the ‘Orange Dipper’, an ice cream parlor in Naples , and pulled himself slowly, painfully, up onto a stool.  

After catching his breath he ordered a banana split.
The waitress asked kindly, ‘Crushed nuts?’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘hemorrhoids’

I’ve been lagging behind a bit this year. I haven’t even shot a pic of the trailerparkgang for Christmas cards for 2008. I guess I’ll just use last year’s holiday whing-ding group photo for the cover. Here it is in case you missed it last year……

(And y’all thought that I didn’t have any friends in real life! Yes, I did round up these toys figures that I collect real people and photograph them. I justhappen to own the largest refrigerator in the free world.)

 

Mercy me….I sure did have a time at last year’s TPB party. I managed to get this pic before things got ugly. Those of you (1, maybe 2) who have been around since last Christmas will remember how quickly things took a downward spiral. To recap briefly, Mr. T(Duck) was all over Ms. O. Oyl when suddenly Willie Nelson showed up and started makin’ his moves on her. He lured her beneath the counter and had her smokin’ some wicked weed with him. Mr. T(Duck) began to sulk and hidbehind the coffee pot  in another room . He was followed by M. Jackson who had just rumbled with Mammy over that fluffy pink boa. M. Jackson had shown up in a ho’fo’sho’ ensemble leaving nothing to the imagination (thereby, proving once and for all that he has no “parts”…bless his heart). I had to shut him up in the cookie jarpantry for a time out when he refused to stop laying of the floor, limbs askew, singing “Beat It”. Sock Monkey and Ol’ Man Time didn’t give a shit about any of it as they had already bloated themselves on rum balls and Pabst Blue Ribbon/jello shooters. After they had finished all of those, they hit the tequila suckers and began arguing over which one had eaten the most worms. Meanwhile, Mr. Troll was stinkin’ up my trailer chain smoking one ciggie after another. His New Year’s Resolution was to quit smokin’ and he was storing up enough nicotine to kill an entire aborigine village in New Guinea.

 When I saw the blue lights flashing on the driveway, I had to put my foot down and scoot them all under the china cabinetout the door and on their own way.  No small task…no sirreeee. Thankfully, everyone was back in the toyboxremoved before I had to open the door to 3 uniformed officers. Believe me, Larry, Darryl, and the other Darryl are the best around in trailerpark security and it took me having to keep a straight face (not to mention a couple of George Washingtons…bribery? Me?) to assure them that nothing was amiss at Lot #123.

So, if I don’t get one taken in time this year, I’ll just cut and paste different heads on different bodies.

Yes, the are real!!!! I don’t care what that nosey psychiatrist insist on telling my family.

What got me to finally moving on some of this was the annual holiday letter that I get from Mr. Rooter aka Roter Rooter.

 

“Don’t Let a Clogged Drain Dampen Your Holiday Spirit

It’s the holiday season, and you’re decorating the house, shopping for gifts, mailing holiday cards and baking cookies. But have you thought about your plumbing? Don’t let a clogged drain dampen your holiday spirit!

Whether you’re having family over for the holidays or you’re hosting a festive party, your kitchen and bathrooms will be busier than usual….more.

 

No, I’m not kidding. I really do geat this in my email. Let me explain how I got on Mr. R’s list.

Last year, around Sept., TPSkipper and I were competing with each other to see who could get the most and the weirdest free stuff in the mail. I googled Mr. R (I mean….duh….who wouldn’t?) and he was offering a little rubber figure of  Rooter Man.  JACKPOT!  Or, so I thought. The old poop never sent the damn thing. Instead, he added me to his mailing list!

His email is not totally annoying. It’s saved by the recepies in each email. Except, I have noticed that a lot of the recepies include corn.This makes me wonder if he is, perhaps, an evil genius.Could he be hoping to clog up drains with all that corn poop? Hmmm….food for thought, don’tcha think?

tah tah for now (originally, I had written “tata for now” but that looked like I meant “booby for now”)

edited….now, can somebody tell me why my font size suddenly got soooo small in the last part of this post and how to fix it?

edited….I figured it out. I was going to delete the above sentence but did not want Woody coming back here and thinking that she was totally out of it last night.

Do any of y’all watch the show, Intervention, on A & E?

I use to watch it regularly but quit when it got to where I couldn’t tell one addict from another. But, tonight, I was channel surfing and decided to watch a few minutes of Intervention. Admittedly, I was reading blogs at the same time.

I was reading a really great post at The Vinyl Village (daaayam, he’s smart!) and looking up occasionally at the television. A & E’s Intervention was doing a story on a woman named Janet.

Briefly, about Janet……

“At age 6, Janet was molested. She was also bullied by other kids, making her extremely self-conscious about her looks. At 18, she married a drug dealer who made her rich, but her husband was sent to prison, leaving her alone with two sons. She turned to drugs and alcohol, and had multiple affairs. Her husband discovered one of her affairs and divorced her. Janet remarried and had two more children, but she missed her old luxurious lifestyle and began drinking heavily. Now she frequently passes out, threatens suicide, and puts herself in life-threatening situations.”

This show was different. This show was interesting. Janet had a story unlike the rest of the Intervention addicts.

Janet sounds like a dolphin when she cries. I cannot link just the video but here is the Intervention site about Janet. That woman is one hot mess!

I googled it after having the total crapola scared outta me. Ya see, while reading VV’s post, I heard this weird, high-pitched sound coming from the television. It was sorta like this….

AAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE   Actually, more  like this boy…..

After watching (and hearing) Janet, I am pleased to tell y’all that I am absolutely scared straight. I promise to never get involved with a millionaire drug dealer nor partake of his goods. The thought of being watched by millions of people while dolphin-crying is simply horrifying.

 

Well, you ladies might want to read it , too. You may be able to finally rid yourself of Uncle Charlie and his best friend, Roland, from showing up on Christmas morning while you are in the middle of opening gifts. No more buying extra tins of popcorn just in case they show up again. No more of your little ones asking why Charlie and Roland smell funny (from the heavy drinking/puking done the night before). No more trying to be polite while on the verge of a murderous rage watching Roland burn holes in your sofa with his constant chainsmoking.

Like the time, he dropped a fat, cheap cigar on your beautiful brand new Kate Spade purse, wherein the cigar rolled down into the front pocket of the purse and caused the smoke alarm to go off after the entire fornt of the purse had been destroyed not to mention the matching Kate Spade wallet inside and…..oh, silly me. That’s just a scenario. Made-up, never happened to me….grrrrr. Or, how ’bout your homeless brother who now lives in a RV with his really old mean dog never having anywhere to go so like a complete patsy/idiot, you go and invite him and he won’t come unless he can bring his dog. And, you, be the wonderfully, kind-hearted person that you are (after all it is Christmas) agree to let the dog come ,too. Then, the dog, who hasn’t been groomed since it was around 6 months old and is really shaggy, does the Toby trick on your freshly shampooed area rug. What’s the Toby trick, you say. See below….

 

 

 

Not that this has ever happened to me……grrrrrr.  Of course not. My house is just like a Christmas movie on Christmas morning. Admittedly, it would be the Griswald’s Christmas movie. And, the squirrel thing did happen one year ‘cept it was a bat. Faithful blogging friends will remember that from last year.

Alright, back to the original intent. Following is a TBP public service for all you lonely guys. Here are Gabe & Max with some tips on hygiene and how to look Borat-sexy,not to mention smelling strong wonderful. After following their advice, you should have no problem picking up a nice lady, attractive girl somewhat desperate person to spend the holidays with. Pay attention, take notes, follow their advice!!!!!!

****************************************************************************************

A Public Service for all you lonley guys!

Dudes, the holiday season is here. This means parties, shopping in crowded malls, watching the local production of either the Nutcracker or Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer (depending on where you live. Our local theater does the latter) and other festivities involving mingling of the sexes.

Year after year, you’re out trolling for babes. You spend time hoping that Santa will deliver a Hooter’s girl or some other type of lucy-goosey funpal. Instead, you wake up on Christmas morning with a deflated blow-up Trixie…..

Too many of you have no luck and spend your holiday hangingout at your gramma and grampa’s (or sister’s) place scarfing down homemade goodies. Dec 26 comes along to find you alone and even worse, bloated from too many rum/peanut butter balls and gingerbread men.Trixie is deflated permanently this time (WTF did you do to her?).

So, sit down and let Gabe and Max help you become a somewhat (at least more than you are now) desirable man.

 

 

 

 

WARNING….LISTEN UP HERE. THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!!!

TO ALL YOU REDNECK COON HUNTERS, DEER HUNTERS, SQUIRREL HUNTERS,BOAR HUNTERS, SNAKE CATCHERS, OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF ANIMAL HUNTER.:

DEER URINE SCENT, RACOON ATTRACTOR SCENT, OR ANY OTHER ANIMAL-SCENTS-IN-A-BOTTLE FROM WALMART OR A SPORTING GOODS STORE CANNOT BE SUBSITUTED FOR SPLASH-ON COLOGNE OR BODY SPRAY!!!!!

IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE THAT, JUST GO AHEAD AND PAT A LITTLE DEER URINE BEHIND YOUR EARS. BUT, DON’T BE SURPRISED TO FIND YOURSELF FOLLOWED AROUND BY A COUPLE OF WINOS WHO HAVE BEEN LAYING IN THEIR OWN PISS OR BY DEPENDS WEARING GRANNIES.

Wishing you a lucky holiday season!!!!

Yesterday was my birthday. The only thing that saved it from being the crappiest birthday ever was logging on here for a sec (between pukes) and seeing the birthday wishes from y’all!!!! How sweet.

I know that little rascal, Vinyl Villager, tipped  everyone off and I think he’s a real sweetie-pie to do that.

TPSkipper had put a lot of effort into rounding up some friends and relatives for a surprise luncheon at Tamarack. All girls! The first girlie lunch/dinner/anything that I had in a long time. When I woke up not wanting to do anything but lay in the bed or in front of the commode, she went into The General mode and called  TPKen to give orders for calling up the guests and telling them not to come.

HUGE MISTAKE!  He tried to call TPMidge  one time to tell her to call some of the girls. One time. He didn’t reach her and he didn’t leave a message either.So, 4 of the women still showed up. And, 3 of them happened to have used their lunch hour from work to come. Not knowing what was going on, they waited for around 90 minutes. They tried calling TPSkipper and couldn’t reach her. They didn’t want to call me because they thought that it would ruin the surprise. So, bless their hearts, they waited as long as they could and then had to go back to work.

TPMidge, my youngest, was one of the ones who showed up. And, boy, was she PISSED at her dad. She came over after work to check on me. She came carrying flowers, a bday cake, and a TEMPER. She asked TPKen why he didn’t call her. It went like this”

TPM…”Dad, the least you could have done was call me so I could have called everyone else!”

TPK…”I did”.

TPM…”I never talked to you!”

TPK…”I got your answering machine.”

TPM (started to show a bit of that temper)….”Why didn’t you leave a message? It would have saved some people a lot of trouble!”

TPK….”I didn’t think you’d check your messages”.

TPM…”What number did you call?”

TPK…”304 222-XXXX)”.

TPM…”That’s my business number. You KNOW that I have to check those messages!(a side note: TPM is head of the media department for a local university and her phone is mega important in that job). WHY did’nt you leave a message??????”

TPK…”I dunno. Just didn’t”.

TPM…”Well, I’m soooooo angry with you. I deserve an apology right now!”

TPK, “I’m sorry”.

TPM…”For what?”

TPK…”Whatever you’re pissed off about”.

We’ve all heard of those incidences when mothers display enormous amounts of strength or impossible actions to protect their kids, right? Well, as soon as “whatever you’re pissed about” came out of his mouth, mother’s intuition took over.  For a minute, I didn’t even feel the throbbing of my head. I was too busy trying to protect my baby…..from going to jail. She was standing at the kitchen counter earnestly studying the skillets that I hadn’t put away. I could read her mind. “Which one would hurt the most upside his head?”

Stepping between the two of them, I mouthed to TPK , “APOLOGIZE! SAY YOU’RE SORRY!”

TPK…”I just did.”

Me…”mouthing to TPK”….”Like you MEAN it!”

TPK…”I’m reaaaally sorry”.

TPMidge…”Ok, I accept your apology”.

My best birthday present was that there was no maiming or murder on my birthday.

This post seems a tad bit substandard to me, but, I really don’t feel so great yet. I’ll get my steam back and see y’all later.

Have I got a Christmas post for you and all my other homies (yep, trying to sound ubercool).

Listen, y’all….

I had Christmas dinner with Johnny Cash’s sister….. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure if she was Hazel or Joanne. One of them has passed on to the Big Ring Of Fire. This one was still pretty much alive but, hey, celebrity status (no matter how small) flusters me.

We had dinner at the Black Bear Gayboree Jamboree.

I’m pooped tonight. So, consider this a teaser on what’s to come.

Hope y’all had a Merry Christmas!!!!!!

I intended to write a post about my crazy Chritmas. But, it needs lots of details and I’m pooped. I will tomorrow.

Got these in my email and thought that they were pretty funny.

 

 

 

I was fooling around with my new camera last night. I took pictures of stuff that was in my trash can. I keep trying to upload them so we can play, “I Spy….What’s in the Can?”

It’s 1:30 am now. I’m goig to try one more time. Let’s see who can identify the items in my garbage!

What’s In It?????

TrailerParkKen has a hearing problem. But, TP Ken refuses to admit it and tries to infer that I am the one with a problem. Ya see, he claims that he can hear everyone but me. He says that I do not talk loudly enough. Tis not true. Everyone else can hear me. But, he can not hear everybody. This has become an inside joke in my family as they have problems with him hearing them, too.

With that being said, come back in time with me.

Time: Yesterday

Place: My kitchen

Characters: TPBarbie and TPKen

Earlier in the day, TPKen had been kind enough to take some time from work and drive to a store to pick up a gun-safe for TPG I Joe. (That name will have to suffice since my brain is not helping me out with a TP title).

It’s after supper and I am putting things away. TPKen is sitting  on his ass at the table watching (as usual).

“Hey”, I said, “Where did Joe put his gun-safe?”

“Somalia” came the reply.

“Somalia?” I asked in utter confusion.

“Yes! Somalia. He’s the president of Somalia!”..he answered in an irritated voice.

I than politely asked, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? SOMALIA??????

TPKen looked at me like I had grown another head. A head covered in grizzly bear fur or something.( NOTE: I’ve got to post soon and tell y’all about my hair and how I screwed it up and took all day to fix it myself because I couldn’t get an appt anywhere Writing about grizzly bear fur reminded me).

Back to story at hand.

“That’s the president of Somalia on the news”, he said with much irritation.

“What did you think……oh never mind!” With this, I threw my hands in the air because I knew that it would be useless to tell him that I was asking about GI Joe’s gun-safe and not about the President of Somalia.

 

PREZ OF SOMALIA

GUN-SAFEI think that I’m gonna set up a hidden camera to tape some of these conversations. Maybe, that will get him to go to an ear doctor. I can see that one now, too.

“A-ha!!! I can prove that you need to have your hearing checked. I’ve got you on camera!”, I’ll say.

And, he’ll say……………….”Bulgaria!”

I think that I proved my point. He is having a hearing problem…….unless……him……unless

HE’S TRYING TO TRICK ME INTO THINKING THAT HE CAN’T HEAR!!!!!!

Which one do y’all think is the actual truth? Deaf or playing me as dumb?

This was originally written back in July. I am reposting it with the latest updates for all of the people (OK…1 person) who have inquired about “Lacie” aka Mrs. Drake. This is rather long so run to the bathroom and pee. Then, grab a cup of coffee/soda/beer/vodka, etc. and make yourself comfy.

I cross my fingers…hope to die….stick a needle in my eye…..the following story is true. Hard to believe but very, very true. Some of you will say…”Nah, no way. It’s impossible that anybody has a white trash person in there family with that much dumbness!” I assure you….it is.

I had to give it some thought before writing this post. I may appear heartless and better-than-you-are-nana nana-boo-boo (some of y’all will be familiar with that little taunt) but it’s the price I pay for my never ending drive to amuse and entertain thru blogging.

Besides, if I didn’t record the family’s history and events, who would? Do you actually think that my brother who lives in a car wash (yes, hon, this is true, too. See past post) would have the time or inclination to be the family historian. Alright already, I know what you are thinking. She’s justifying making fun of her relatives. And, I say….HELL YES, I AM! If I’ve got to have them in my family then the least compensation that I could receive is the right to use them as material for my blog.

Right before midnight last night, I got a call from my niece I will call Lacie. Lacie tends to forget that some of us get up before noon and go to bed at a reasonable hour in order to do so. Lacie has never had a job and sleeps until around two-ish everyday except on weekend when she sleeps in. Lacie is on a government disability check and is a proud card carrying lifetime member on the state welfare roll. She has 3 children, one of whom recently chose to go live with his dad. Lacie is a hypochondriac with a habit of going to the ER via ambulance on weekend nights. I wondered for a long time why then? I got my answer thru a few phone conversations in which she mentioned several different people by name.

“And, who is “fill-in blank”, Lacie”, I’d ask her.

“Oh, I met him/her at the ER and we became friends”, she would say.

So, apparently, there are a group of people who regularly go to the ER on Saturday nite…..kinda like a social gathering. I believe they have formed some kind of club. PWVERSWR….People who visit ER’s with regularity. Lacie has actually traded photos of her kids with some of the other club members. And, the best part of this club is that it is totally free to the members. Never mind, that we, the taxpayers, are paying out of our hiney for those ambulance rides. Oh crap, don’t get me started on this. Oh wait, you didn’t. I did. Enough about massive abuse of taxpayer money. That’s for another time.

I’m sure that you are thinking, “Why doesn’t she just get to the damn point!”

Patience, dear. Patience. Without some background history, you cannot begin to appreciate the conversation that Lacie and I had close to midnight on Saturday.

Lacie has many, many illnesses. Why, the dear girl even had something wrong with her prostate! I didn’t bother telling her that she doesn’t own a prostate. She is unable to walk very far. On this one, I did try to tell her that sleeping all day and eating a diet of fried foods, chips, and cakes might be a little bit of the cause. I encourage her to get up earlier, changer her diet a bit, and maybe, try taking a small walk every day. She countered that with the fact that she gets to use the Rascals at WalMart so it wasn’t a big problem.

Lacie’s first time at driving a Rascal was somewhat un-nerving. More for the WalMart workers than for her. She got behind the wheel (oh yeah, she doesn’t have a driver’s license and had never driven anything in her life except a Big Wheel) and proceeded to mow down an entire display of greeting cards. And, a clerk. She was indignant startled knocked out of the Rascal on her very large ass. She threatened to sue. I think the outbreak of laughter whenever she told this story may have stopped that.

Lacie is, also, to put it bluntly a really, really, really bad housekeeper. If I ever had to go to her house, I stayed standing looking out of the corners of my eyes for the very large roaches that have built their own roach motels in her house. And, then, there are the 15+ cats. Maybe, more. That house is so dirty and piled up with stuff, that even I, a serious card carrying hoarder, can not take it for longer than 5 minutes.

Now, you have some background info, so on to the call right before midnight.

“ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring” Oh, my phone was ringing right before midnight. Y’all know what goes thru your mind when you get a call right before midnight. A family member is hurt. A family member has been in an accident. A loved one has died. Your brother is in the hospital on suicide watch again. Your nephew is back in jail. That kind of stuff. So, with a trembling hand, I answered it expecting the worse.

“Hello”….I couldn’t keep the fear out of my voice.

And, I hear….laughter. WTH? A prankster? I’ll trace this call and…..

“Hey! It’s me….Lacie! Guess what!? You’ll never guess! Guess!!!!!” she said.

“I dunno. You wrecked another Rascal?” I really didn’t feel like playing this game.

“Uh, uh “giggles” uh “giggles” I’m “giggles” getting married!” she said giggling.

“Really? To whom? And, when?”….I was definitely not giggling.

“To i-can’t remember-his-name (me, I can’t remember his name. She can. I hope). We’re getting married this coming weekend. And, I want you to be in it!….she was wound up tight, I tell ya. “And, I want TrailerParkBarbie t sing in it!”…….Uh oh, TPB is not going to be very happy about this.

Me….”Well, you’ll have to ask her if you want her to sing. And, exactly what am I suppose to be in your wedding? I know, I’ll be your photographer!”……….Oh yes, thank you, Lord. This pictures could be priceless! And, the video on youtube! Maybe, CMT would be interested in Her Big Redneck Wedding!!!!

Lacie….”I’ve been trying to call her”. Didn’t have the heart to tell her that TPS has caller ID. She went on,”And I won’t have a phone after tomorrow. So, will you tell her?”

Me….”Why won’t you have a phone?”

Now, it gets good.

Lacie….”Mine has been cut off because I couldn’t pay my bill. And, this one belongs to “whathisname” and it’s going to be turned off on Monday”.

Me….”Why haven’t ya’ll paid your bills?” I already knew the answer to why she didn’t. She had her land phone turned off so many times and had to come up with deposits each time to turn it back on. The last time, she just didn’t even fool with it. The bill remained unpaid. The phone got turned off and she went and got a cellphone…..which apparently had fallen to the same neglect of payment. So, I wondered why “whathisname”’s phone was being turned off.

Here we go. A story of LOVE!

(which brings to mind this lovely poem by Nate Owens )

Lacie…”Because we were at WalMart and we were looking at rings and he bought one with his phone money!”

Lacie…”I said, ‘but, but, but, …what about your phone’? And he said, “I don’t need a phone. I need you. I need your love.” …..

“heartless snickering here” Can’t help it. I know what she looks like and how goofy she is. And, I also, know that she gets up in time to watch her stories (Soaps) and leans toward talking like the characters when she’s talking about her life.

Then, he got down on one knee right there at the jewelry counter and proposed…..again. I don’t know this guy. I’ve never seen him. But, here is what I do know. He is middle-aged, has no job, and has no problem sharing her home with her mess, roaches, and cats. In other words, he’s a loser. Let me add that he doesn’t mind sharing her gov checks either.

I’ll try to go a little faster. This is turning into a novel.

Lacie got all emotional (teary-eyed, jumping up and down, screaming) and fell over. Flat on the floor right there in front of the jewelry case at WalMart on a Saturday. In my mind, I can see a large number of people watching this unfold. I can, also, see the manager saying to himself, “Please, God, don’t let that be the woman who wrecked the Rascal laying there in my floor. PLEASE!”

Lacie said that she had a seizure. Now, it is true that she actually does have some type of a seizure on occasion. However, her claim that she has had seizures since she was a baby and her mom didn’t know it is very questionable.

So, Lacie and her beloved rode the ambulance home where she took some medicine and lay down on the six cats that were sleeping on the sofa and went to sleep for a while. Then, like any good white trash woman, she got up and went back to WalMart to finish her shopping. She informed me that she had found the perfect dress and shoes…..at WalMart. The dress cost $20 and I am just praying that it does not have Taz, Mickey, or Winnie the Pooh on the front because she has a real thing for that type of fashion. I forgot to ask her what the sandals cost but I’m pretty sure they are jelly sandals.

I proceeded to drill Lacie on details of her wedding.

Me…”So, where are you getting married and what time?”

Lacie…”I dunno. We still gotta figure that out.”

Me…”Who is performing the ceremony?”

Lacie…”Well, we have 2 preachers and need to pick one.”

Me…”Who are they?”

Lacie…”Uh uh uh….one is from a church down the street. I don’t know his name. The other one is one that I met at the ER.”

Me (trying to be helpful. Y’all stop laughing. I really was!) “Don’t you think that you need to talk to one of them a few days ahead of time and see if they’ll be available?”

Lacie…”giggle giggle” “Yeah, I guess we’re gonna have to figure that out, too.”

Now, it is almost one a.m. and I’ve had enough. I’m tired. I am not in good thinking mode and want to go to bed.

Me…”Well, did you tell your dad or your brother?”

Lacie…”Not yet. I’m gonna have to figure that out.”

Me…”Figure what out? All ya gotta do is call them.”

Lacie…”Yeah, but, uh, uh, I’m not gonna have a phone. So, I’m gonna have to figure that out.”

Me…”Well, congratulations. I really need to go to bed now. Let me know where and when.”

If this wedding takes place, I will do everything in my power to be there. Taking pics and video just so I can prove to y’all that this is true. And, besides, I’ve already got my wedding outfit picked out….a nifty sundress with Eyeore really big and right smack on the front.

Ain’t love grand.

Funny thing is, I found myself lying in bed later thinking about how much I’d like to be Lacie for a while. Do things by the seat of my pants. Not caring what other people thought about me. And, getting excited enough to go into a seizure. And….no more house cleaning!

UPDATE: 6/4/08 Lacie’s wedding has been postponed. So, all y’all who had planned on taking your vacation time to attend, please note the new date. July 4, 2008. Yee Haw….a real redneck wedding with fireworks!

Lacie just called and said that she was crossing the road and fell into a pot hole and sprained/broke her ankle. She was at the ER and had not been x-rayed yet. What is surprising to me is that she was walking across the road. Must have been giving away free tator chips or something on the other side of the road.

I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for the call to come with wedding details. But, when I finally got the call, it was to inform me that she had just gotten married!

DAMMIT!!!!!

Oh, sure, I’m happy for her, etc. etc. etc. But, I really wanted to attend and even better, take pics and movie. With one phone call, she wiped away all my dreams of being the next famous Youtube-er.

DAMMIT!!!!!

Instead, I was talking on the phone with the new Mrs. Lacie Drake.

Lacie Drake…..sounds like either a porn star or soap opera name. Actually, I rather like it. Presenting, for your entertainment…..Lacie Drake…..

She was plum giddy with joy. At least, I think she was but since she acts pretty silly most of the time, I can’t swear to it.

With out further rambling, here are the details that I have so far:

Lacie and Mr. Drake decided on July 1 to “just up and do it” on the 4th of July. She tried to call her dad. His phone was off the hook. She tried to call 2 uncles with no luck. She thought she had called me and let me know the details but she had not. Love makes you idle-brained (LOL that’s an inside joke to myself and I’m laughing at it). So, it was a small wedding.

Her two daughters and her son attended. One daughter sang a country song. Poor girl has never sang in public. She’s only 12. Sang with no music. Bless her heart! And, I’m not being sarcastic. I’ll bet her heart was full of music. After all, she was finally getting a daddy. I really hope that he will be good to those kids. They’ve had a hard life.

Now,everybody ready for the good parts?

Her son moved out of her house and in with his father about 8 months ago. This is not an ex-husband but a baby daddy. One of her baby daddy. Tom (name changed for protection of me) drove several hours from another state to bring his/her son to the wedding. That was very nice of him. He did something just as nice for her. I think he did it for her but could have had an ulterior motive, like making sure she got married which would most likely free him and his new wife from her harassment. He bought them some wedding rings. Little gold bands. I find this to be very thoughtful but a little weird. How many of us can say that our baby daddy bought wedding rings for us and our new husbands?

I’m not sure how this came about but she got married in the Church of the Nazarene (which is a very lovely church). And, he must have been a lovely pastor because instead of the traditional couple pays the pastor, this pastor paid them. Actually, he gave them money to go to Kroger’s or Wal-Mart and buy themselves a wedding cake. What a generous and kind thing to do!

Then, the son baby daddy offered to take the two girl’s (he’s not their baby daddy) for a few days to give Mr. and Mrs. Drake time alone (to make a porn movie? Lacie Drake just sounds like a porn name to me. But, secretly I want it. I want the name…..Lacie Drake. I want to get all decked out with a sexy dress and CMF pumps and enter a room. And announce…..Drake. Lacie Drake. That’s my name. Now, don’t wear it out. I thin that last part was from Pee-Wee’s playhouse. Of course, PeeWee is associated with porn, too.

Drunk with love, Lacie and Mr. Drake decided to hell with a cake. Instead, they used the money to go to a traveling carnival…..where they each got to ride the Octopus, the Scrambler, the Ferris Wheel, and the Haunted House!

Got married on the 4th of July. Got to watch fireworks on your wedding night.

Got to ride the Scrambler!!!

DAMMIT! I’m pissed!!!! I didn’t get to take pictures. And, secretly, I would love for my wedding to have been that cool (’cept the not having any money part).

CONGRATULATIONS MR AND MRS DRAKE (ALONG, OF COURSE, WITH YOUR KIDS AND MANY, MANY, MANY CATS!)

1-05-09

Hi y’all…..I’ve been slacking ’round here really bad. I’ve got tons of stuff to write about. My life might not be front page gossip-column material but sometimes, it is quite interesting.

I’ll write about my White Trash Christmas in the next post. But, right now, I just can’t resist updating y’all on The Life Of Mrs. Drake.

“Lacie” aka Mrs. Drake (I still think that sounds like a porn star/soap opera name) has been pretty much unreachable until this week. Her phone was disconnected (but, hey, she did get a ring!) and I had no way to call her. Sure, I could have gone over to her house. And, I would have if I didn’t mind sharing a seat with monster-size cockroaches and more cats than The Original Infamous Crazy Cat Lady. “Lacie” has soooo many cats that her tombstone should read…..

So, since it is winter and fresh air is a scarce commodity at the Drake household, try as I might, I just could not bring myself to go visit. I figured that I’d wait until late spring/early summer so that we might be able to sit outside. I’m not exaggerating. If only I were!

Over the weekend, I got a call from Lacie (no more quotation marks. Y’all get my drift by now). She seemed deleriously happy in her married life. Truthfully, though, she seems pretty delerious pretty much most of the time about pretty much everything.  As I have stated before, I envy her breaks with reality and the ability to live in her own Laciland. I wouldn’t mind being so clueless sometimes.

Once again, I’m getting off-subject. So, back to the Drake household. It would take a novella-size post to repeat the entire conversation so here is a Cliff-note style summation.

 Lacie left out one minor detail about her new husband. Actually, that’s not true. She left out several details about her beloved.

1. She is the fifth Mrs. Drake

2. Her dearest is a convict. When she first called (read the whole post) to announce her impending wedding, I asked her what he did for a living. She said that he did “odd jobs” aka “no job“. What I discovered in the latest conversation is that he does leave for work on a regular schedule and comes on at the same time every evening. I know those of y’all who have followed the “Lacie Saga” are just holding your breath waiting for me to tell you that I was wrong about him. Nope…not gonna do it. His “JOB” is reporting to an inmate work-release program. He got busted selling prescription drugs. And, this was before she married him.

3. Lacie still seems to believe that I desire to have conversations with her favorite cat/cats on the phone. I’m sure that everyone has bit there tongue a time or two when a friend or relative insists that you talk to little Johnny or Susie, their blabbering toddler. Try talking to someone who wants to put Stinky, the cat, on the phone. What the hell am I suppose to say to a cat….”Meow are you today? Did you by any chance see that article in Cat Fancy about……?”

4. Worse than being shoved into holding a telephone with a purring cat at the other end is being shoved into holding the phone while Mrs. Drake insist on putting Mr. Drake on the phone. What the hell am I suppose to say…..”So, how’s work-release going? Made any friends?”

5. This is sickly hilarious. It seems that Mrs. Drake #4 , also, happens to be on the same work-release program as Lacie’s man. This seems to be causing lots of problems as she (#4) has been trying to push #5 (Lacie) out of the picture so that she and Mr. Drake might reunite. Mr. Drake has gone so far as to complain and has requested to be transfered to a different WR program. His request is pending.

6. Lacie had a wonderful Christmas, for which I am seriously grateful. Honest, I really am. She received the following gifts from her spouse. (a) a Tiger tee (b) a stuffed cat (c) a Hello Kitty necklace (d) Fluffy cat couch throw . Is it just me or do y’all see a feline pattern here, too?

7. As I mentioned before, Lacie has 3 kids. Her son chose to go live with his biological dad about 1-2 years ago. Her daughters, age 12 and 13, presently reside with her. For Christmas (which was delayed until she got her welfare check the 1st of Jan), she got both girls a cellphone that you load with minutes. Each girl got 130 minutes when their phones were activated on Jan. 2. Today is Jan. 5. Both girls have used all of their minutes as of yesterday. I wonder if they are calling 911 a lot?

8. Lacie has been having visions of her mother who died 3 years ago. These only occur when she’s sleeping. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that they are called dreams. In the visions,  her mother is assuring her of the love of Mr. Drake, and, of his unquestionable faithfulness . Maybe, I’m too cynical, but I get the feeling that Mr. Drake is disguising his voice as a woman and talking in her ear when she is sleeping. Call me crazy but…..

9. And, finally, in the Saga of Mrs. Drake, there is one more thing.  This probably should be 8b and connected to the last paragraph but a #9 is more impressive and makes the post longer. Mr. Drake’s brother is trying to “put the moves”  (her words) on Lacie. Seems he thinks that she “has money” (her words, again).  I suppose if you are a broke-ass, lazy dude with no future, those welfare and SSI checks seem almost Trumpish.

10. I’m sure that I’ll remember more of the conversation after I post this. If that is the case, I’ll be back!

There you have it…..the latest chapter of the RL Redneck Wedding Saga of The Drakes. And, I still cross my fingers-hope to die-stick a needle in my eye swear that this is all true.

I do soooo love my family. Life is not boring ’round here!!!!!

 After I posted this last nite, I remembered a Lacie incident that made me laugh so hard that I thought I was gonna need surgery for a split sides.

When Lacie had her first child, a son, I went to the hospital to visit. Of course, I went bearing gifts for the newborn baby. I had bought several items and put them in a gift bag. As I’ve stated before, Lacie lives in Laciland in all her naiive glory. Upon taking each item from the bag, she would squeal an thank me profusely. Lacie is a grateful gift receiver. That is one quality that some of us should copy from her. After retreiving a bib, Lacie looked seriously baffled. I questioned her silence and  the perplexed facial expressions.

“Lacie”, I said. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like that bib?”

And, just as serious as possible, she replied, “Yes, I do. But, it says on it to keep away from children. How am I suppose to use it on my baby?”

I reached out and she handed me the bib. Sure enough, on the plastic covering was written, “Keep away from children. Dangers of suffocation”.  I said, “Don’t worry, Lacie. I’ll fix that!” whereupon, I removed the plastic covering. With a big smile, she said, “THANKS!”

 

The Church of The Dali Mama delcares this day to be “Official Biotch and Coan Day”.

A little info for newbies…..I am THE DALI MAMA. I became D-Mama after a vision of a powerful witch (Ann Coulter) came to me. Read about it here……Ann Coulter Prolaims Me The Dali Mama. 

All members and prospective members are encouraged to post comments on what’s pissing you off lately or who/what have you found to be absurd/unfair/stupid.

Of course, The D-Mama will start.

1. I have been getting an increasing amount of ads for male enhancement products. I guess that’s what I get for writing the post on Stamina Pillows. Probably due to pingbacks (in this case should be called “dingbacks“). No matter how many I mark as SPAM, the amount seems to grow bigger(just like Bob! ) everyday. In the last two days, I have received emails from Betty, Barbara, and Betsy. All “B” names. Makes me think that Levitra Bob is trying to be incognito but can’t get away from the letter “B”. Today, Betsy sent me an email with the title, “Make Your Dreams Come True With Viagra Pro“. I didn’t open the link that Bob/Betsy sent but I was wondering when a man would go from regular Viagra to Viagra Pro. Is it when he turns professional and enters the Mr. World Stiff Member contest. Or, maybe, the Mr. Teeney But Stiff Weenie Competition? What’s next….Viagra Concrete? Hey, that wouldn’t be a bad idea, ya know. A concrete member would be handy-dandy for ball players. No need to carry a bat or balls. He’d have everything needed for a few friendly innings with his buds at the office picnic.

2. Here’s how rumors get started. TrailerParkKen, being the owner of his own business, spends  a large chunk of time on the internet at work.  He reads some national news sites, some local news sites, a local forum, among other things. Saturday he came home and said,

“Did you know that Loren Greene and Greta Van Sustern of Fox News were both Miss Americas?”

Fortunately, I had already seen the real story on the news. So, I said, “No, that’s not true. Greta was not Miss America. Gretchen Carlson on Fox and Friends was Miss. America. Gretchen and Loren Greene (msp?)”.

Here’s Greta……                          Here’s Gretchen……

Later that evening, I was talking to TPMidge on the phone. Just chitchatting about this and that when she said, “Hey, did you know that

Gretchen Wilson (Redneck Woman) was Miss. America?” I said, “Who told you that?”

She said, “Dad did. He read it on the internet.”

Without missing a beat, I answered, “No, she was not. It was…….” That’s when I got an idea to see just how mixed up I could make them. I said, “He got the it wrong. It is actually Gretchen Frasier, a key member of Greater Boston Parents, Families & Friends of Lesbians and Gays.”     I’m not meaning anything negative toward Ms. Frazier or the GBPFLAG. I’m just curious to see what Gretchen will be proclaimed to be Miss America the next time that I hear it.

3. Has this happened to you lately? Have you gone into WalMart or another store and spotted a sign that says 75% off of things that you want to buy? Then, you get up to the checkout and the item scans at regular price?

Weirdly enough, this has happened to be about 90% of the time that I have been shopping lately, especially at WalMart. It happened again at CVS on Friday. This is so common lately, that I have been pulling the 75% off sign from beneath the items and taking it to the checkout with me. Then, the clerk gets bent out of shape and calls the dept manager who in turns calls the assitant manager, who ends up either calling the store manager or just tells me that “It’s a mistake. Somebody has just set that down in the wrong place.”

“Reaaalllly. Then how come there are at least 2 dozen of the items with the sign below them.”

I find this to be sooooo misleading and dishonest. Since I am still (for the most part) in possession of my faculties such as hearing and seeing, I am able to spot these errors and demand a refund, I don’t get taken for the price bait ripoff scam. But, it really pisses me off knowing that there are elderly people on fixed incomes who who do not think to check their receipt to see if they have gotten the right price. WalMart has been exceptionally bad for displaying the wrong prices in the last month or so. Be sure and take notice when your items are being scanned there.

4. Why do people continue to knock and knock at your door when it is obvious that you are not/cannot answer it? Recently, TPKen hired some guys to do some cleaning up of dead branches and stuff around our house. I saw one of the guys that morning. Later on, I decided that I just had to do something about my winter-drab hair. I’m one of those do-it-yourself hair colorers. I’ve been doing it since I was in my teens. On this day, I decided that I would dye my hair light brown all over and then stick a few cool-shaded blondes highlights here and there. I got the brown dye part done and was in the process of highlighting when I heard a knock at the door. Now, my hair processes pretty fast which means that I need to put the highlights on as quickly as possible. No lollygagging around between strokes if ya know what I mean.  I decided to ignore the knocking and continued putting the highlights on my hair. But, then….

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK….and since it was so loud and persistent, I figured that I had better go see who it was. Just as I thought, it was the “branch” guy but he was walking away as if he had given up. I hurried back to the bathroom to finish. Just as I was putting the second strand of highlights in the back….

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

I knew that I would be taking a chance of overbleaching the hair that I had started the highlights on, so I tried to ignore the knocking.

But, he wouldn’t quit. He started pounding on the door. I thought something might be wrong and quickly set down the applicator and went to peer out the window. He was walking away again. I watched as he went out and sat down in the lawn swing. Figuring nothing was really wrong, I went back to my task.

Uh oh….the strands on top were already getting really dry and I still needed to finish the back and sides. I raced to get back and sides strands covered. I had almost finished when….( swear I could have killed.)…he started knocking again. I knew that I was already in trouble with having the top of my hair covered in dry strands and the back still dripping with dye. So, I hollered at the top of my lungs,

” I CANNOT COME TO THE DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

….but he kept knocking!  And, I was getting really, really pissed. But, then, I started thinking that if something bad had happened to him and I didn’t go see, I would not be able to forgive myself. I ran to the kitchen window with pictures of me being bald in my head. I flung open the window and yelled, “What do you want? I’m doing something that I just can’t keep stopping right in the middle!”

On my front porch was his boss who looked at me with a startled face.

He said, ” I was just wondering if you need an invoice for this work?” Since, he has asked for payment in advance and had already been paid, I just shook my head and slammed the window shut.

I raced back to the bathroom and was not happy to see that my hair had processed at a different speed in different sections. I wasn’t surprised but I was certainly not pleased. I washed all the stuff out and sure enough, it was a mess. I looked like a mutated candy cane with different shades of red all over my head. Intertwined with the red stripes were stripes of almost white. It was horrible. I should have taken a picture but that was the last thing on my mind. I had used a brand of hair dye that I had not used before and it had not worked out with the highlights of a different brand. I looked something like this….. Except, I did not have a red/white striped bow. That was how my actual hair looked.

I spent the rest of the day and most of the next trying to correct my hair. It took 3 more boxes of hair dye before I felt that I could safely go out in public without scaring children or attracting men with a Raggedy Ann/Barber pole fetish. I’m just really thankful to God that I did not end up bald.

I’ve got plenty more gripes but this has taken longer than I expected.

Now, it’s your turn. What’s your gripe?

Why do men need soooo many products to keep up in the sack? Geez….Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, penile implants, sex therapists, and who knows what else.  The most proven means for prolonged any erection for a redneck  guy is to have his gal do this to her hand…..

                                        (what were you dirty minds thinking? haha) Of course the #2 method would be for his partner to make sure she has her teeth in…or not  “wink wink”

I was watching one of my fav shows, Redeye, on Fox the other night. I love that show because I have the humor capacity of a 12 yr old boy. Check it out, checkerouters…….RedEye.

Greg and his crew were talking about the newest product for limp wieners…..The Stamina Pillow.

“Hilarious new work from DDB New Zealand! Durex Performa condoms contain benzocaine (a mild anaesthetic), which helps men last longer in bed. To highlight this product benefit they distributed limited edition pillowcases alongside “

Benzocaine to numb your willy and a pillow with a really ugly woman. I’ll leave the benzocaine comments up to the guys that read this and will be nice enough to comment. Personally, I just can’t imagine a guy wanting to have a numb Mr. Peepers. I guess that could explain why my dentist looks like he always “happy to see me”.

The pillows……

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!!!!!! IT’S OUR TURN!!!!!!

I’m in the process for something for us, girls. How ‘about some masks for our hubby/boyfriend? I’m thinkin’ something that would look like this…..

                                                                            

 

 ……the possibilities are endless! No more counting the ceiling tiles while you wait for the benzocaine to wear off of Romeo’s rod!

I’m getting quite tired of all the male-enhancement commercials……. (ex. Bob  Bob looks creepy. Bob looks like he might drive a Good Humor ice cream truck and ring the bell a hellova lot.

 Bob is a grinning, idiot in line for a heart attack or big-ass whooping from an “unenhanced” husband.

 I want to stab Bob in the throat.

Whaddya say, ladies? Had enough? Let’s fight back.  Let’s put our heads together and come up with something for us.

That’s my opinion! All others are welcome.

• My post yesterday was about the bombardment of male enhancement products flooding the market today. 

See Stamina Pillows/Male Enhancement  from yesterday.

 

 

I’m wondering how DO we get on these lists? Today, in my email, I got this:

 

 

Leivtra and Propecia for real Men- get it here.‏  I wasn’t going to post the link but, just in case any of you are limp AND bald, I thought I’d hook ya up. If Mr. Peepers won’t stand up and your head is cold due to the cold  winter weather, I’ll do my part since you are taking the time to read my blog.

Disclaimer: TrailerParkBarbie is in no way connected to any person/group/company who manufactures/sells/promises products that will cure droopy d*ck or hairless heads. Nor, am I endorsing such products.  No money or free products are received by me, Trailerparkbarbie. The only “payment” that I receive is the email itself which provides me with much snickering and material for this blog.

I just thought of a real story about some real people that exist in real life. Pammy* and Tommy* (names changed to protect the stupid) have been married for 15 years. Tommy had begun to lose hair before they married. Every year, Tommy’s once thick black mane was becoming thinner and thinner. Being in a sales job that required him to look his very best, Tommy had begun to fret about the patches of very thin hair that were getting larger and larger. BUT, it was an unwritten NO-NO to any way mention Tommy’s locks or lack of.

One week, Tommy left for a short sales trip about 50 miles away. When he left that morning, he looked something like this……

 When Tommy returned home that evening, he looked something like this……

I’m pretty sure that everyone (unless they were blind) in Tommy’s life could easily see a big difference. But, here is the kicker……

Tommy comes homes with a full head of hair and his wife never mentions it. Well, not to him anyway. Pammy was more than ready to tell us about all the new products lining Tommy’s side of the bathroom shelf now. And, we were all sworn to secrecy. We had to promise not to say one single word about Tommy’s new mop.

Even though, this was weird to us, we kept our promise and never said a word about the sudden visit from the Hair Fairy.

Once a month or so, Tommy would go out of town on a sales call and hair maintenace trip. Since he could easily disguise his hair trip by having to make a legitmate business trip, it worked out for him. UNTIL, he got fired from his job. Since he no longer has the excuse of sales trips, Tommy just disappears for one day a month. He comes back with his luxurious locks shiny and styled.

WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS FOOLING?

I got one email that I was really happy to receive this morning. It was from a blogger whose blog I really enjoy. I came across it while surfing  BlogExplosion. I had run through several blogs when this one caught my eye. It is soooo funny. The graphics are outstanding. I wish that I could do half of what  MadHaiku does. If you want a funny, entertaining break from whatever you are doing right now, go read Moby Dick In Haiku.  And, the MadHaiku Guy let me add him to my blogroll. Thanks MHG!!!!

I got this message from my brother-in-law:

  ::: BREAKING NEWS :::  

In 2009 the government will start
deporting all the mentally ill people.

I starte d crying when I thought of you.

Run my little crazy friend, RUN!

It’s sooooo cold here. It’s about 8 degrees at the moment. Birds are flying so low that I can see the assicles hanging from them. I’m trying to pump myself up enough to gather blankets to stick in the dog house. We got this dog last January and he was a pup. My husband (who claims to not like animals but is lying) went to the store and bought a huge heating pad…..about 24 inches by 12 inches. It was electric so he attached it to the floor of the doghouse and put some Berber carpet over it. He ran an extension cord to an outside outlet and ran the heating pad 24/7. The dog was being kept very cozy. One day when he (the dog not my husband) was apparently bored, he managed to chew up the carpet and  totally destroyed the heating pad.Being that the cord was very well covered and hidden, we still don’t know how he managed to do that.

Got this from one of my friends who calls me “anti-social” because I won’t sign up for a Facebook account….

Somehow or other, I managed to end up on Goodwill Stores’ newsletter. Now, along with the many messages from Belk, Target, Amazon, Overstock.com, etc., I get this……..Shop Goodwill. I could almost swear that some of those items are stuff from my house that I donated to my local Goodwill. This message was attached…..

SPOTLIGHT: Love and Romance

 

“Love is a many-splendored thing. What better time than now to plan that special romantic surprise for the love of your life? For a truly memorable event, shopgoodwill.com can help you find dozens of unique gift ideas, lamps and candles for mood lighting, soft romantic music CDs, a telescope for watching the stars late at night and even a little black dress. Can you see it now? Well then, what are you waiting for? Get started planning at shopgoodwill.com.”

Oooo-weeeee!  I don’t know ’bout y’all, but nothing says “I’m Crazy About You!”  more than a  sweat-stained, second hand dress boxed up with some slightly burned candles. Now, that’ll put ya right in the mood for romance  homicide. 

 

Also, recieved the usual “You Have Been Chosen/Help/UK Lottery Winner” crap. Just 2 this morning, though.

 

So, that’s it. I’m sure the day will bring more interesting articles, pictures, and ads.

What did you get in your inbox today? Something unusual or funny? Share it!!!!

 

PS….My formatting on this post sucks. I’m not sure what I’ve done to mess it up…..no paragrah breaks,etc. I’ve tried editing it 4 times with no luck. Any ideas what I’m doing wrong?

It’s colder than a witch’s tit here. Or, maybe, I should write “teat” since that’s the correct original saying.

It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off of a pool table.

It’s colder than a well-digger’s ass.

It’s colder than a whore’s heart.

It’s colder than a bucket full of penguin shit.

You get the idea. Even most of the critters here in the boogerwoods are not stirring. And, the ones that are have asscicles hanging from their behinds.

 I’m staying put in my house today. I ventured out yesterday when the temperature was hovering around 10 degrees. It was freezing-ass painful. I’m usually OK once I get in my warm car on days like this. But, I’ve got a small problem right now. I bought a new car (Acura SUV…with much protest from hubby because it’s not American. In reality, it’s as American as his big gas guzzling Chevy Tahoe…long story. Whole-post worthy) and all the gadgets and knobs are different from my Jeep. I have trouble figuring out where the defroster/heater/windshield wiper buttons are located. I’d find myself in desperate need of the defrost but would switch on the headlights instead. I am bad to procrastinate reading instructions books and the like until absolutely necessary. Today, I have decided that I must make myself read the manual that came with the car.

 I got an Ipod from TrailerParkSkipper for my birthday. I know that you are saying to yourself, “What? She’s just now getting an Ipod!?”.  Yep, it’s true. This is my first Ipod….only because I procrastinated on buying one. So, I’m going to spend part of the day reading the instructions and trying to download tunes from ITunes. I have a $50 gift card from ITunes. If I don’t get with it, Ipods are going to be obsolete.

Part of the day is going to be devoted to reading the instruction book to my Canon Rebel camera that I got for Christmas. I have already taken about 100 pics with it. The problem, though, is that I took them all with the telephoto lens (that I bought extra) and all my pics are zoomed in on a subject’s  one eyeball or the like. I can’t tell what most of the pictures are because whatever the object, I zoomed in so close that it’s like a guessing game.

In other news, I am GOING TO HAWAII!!! Yessiree! I’ve wanted to go there for a long, long time. However, TrailerParkKen is not one for taking many vacations.  His idea of a getaway is to pack, drive several hundred miles in record time, stay overnight, and drive back (breaking the record again). I have finally had enough of this. In the last couple of years, I made plans to go to different places with one of my darlin’ daughters and wait until right before leaving to inform TPK. This way, I didn’t risk the chance of him deciding to go and turn the trip into a break-another-miles/time-record event. This has been working out pretty well. At Christmas, TPSkipper, her family, TPK, and myself went to the Smoky Mountains for five days. TPKen knew nothing of the plans until a month before the scheduled vacation. When I figured that he had enough time to get ready to go without changing all of our plans, I informed him that we was going to the Smokeys and he was welcome if he wanted to join us. This worked out great. He went along with the plans that we had made.

(BTW…TPSkipper finally emailed me the pics of Johnny Cash’s sister and me at the dinner show. I will do a post soon and show them to ya. I promise you that it is one of the funniest things that I’ve ever written about.)

Back to Hawaii! TrailerParkMidge called me up last nite and asked if TPK and me wanted to go to Hawaii with her and her hubby in February. I’ve been wanting to go there for sooooo long that I didn’t hesitate and said “YES!”. She thought that, maybe, I should ask TPKen which I did. He started hemhawing around and saying that it wasn’t enough notice. So, I told him that I AM GOING. You can come along if you want to. Once that he saw I was serious, he made the decision to go. On one condition. He said that I had to do a written budget first. He’s been after me to do one for the last six months. It’s not that it’s hard to do. It’s just that we have been thru this on more occasions that I can count. I work up and write an easily understood budget. Then he doesn’t even bother to look at it until it’s no longer current. Or,he just completely ignores it and spends as much money as he wants on whatever he wants. So, I think that a monthly written budget is just wasting my time. I told him that I was going whether he saw a budget or not. That is that!

Crap! I’m embarrassed  honest enough to admit that I have forgotten what I was originally going to post about. I think, maybe, it was about the way my brain works or something like that. I have a very, very busy brain. There are always a menagerie of thoughts swirling in my head. It’s kinda like a radio with different channels coming thru. I’ve learn to tune into one station (for the most part) and let the other stations be background noise. I use to think that everyone’s brain worked this way and was stunned to find out that the majority of people can concentrate on one thing at a time if they want to. It has only been in the last couple of years that I have gotten the balls to actually ask people about the way/things they think about. TrailerParkKen is extremely skillful at this. I think that is why he is an engineer. I suppose most people can be grouped into single-thought or multi-thought people. But, honestly, it never occurred to me that anybody could focus on just one thing without interference from other intruding thoughts.  I’d sure like to have some comments on this. If you don’t mind, take a few minutes, and comment.

Well….since I can’t remember what I was going to write about, maybe, I should find something to post.

How ’bout this? I just got it in my email. Some of you may have already seen it. This goes to show that you really should check your kid’s homework.

This is exceptionally funny to me. When TPSkipper was around 3 or 4 yrs old, there was a little boy who lived across the road  who was the same age. He did not pronounce a lot of words correctly. He said “hores” instead of “yours”. I can remember him telling me lots of times that he wanted to go “to hores house”. He was actually referring to my house. Hmmm….I’m wondering if he was really mispronouncing it?  Or, was he just being an insulting little turd?

He, also, would say “puss” instead of “push”. I can remember shopping with him and his mother and hearing this, “Puss me, Mommy!”. He would be sitting in the shopping cart and shouting that at the top of his lungs. Actually, it came out sounding like……”Pussymommy!” now that I think about it.

Here’s one more funny little story that I remember about him. When he was around 11 yrs old, we (his mom, TPK, him, and me) were going somewhere. His mom stopped to put gas in her car. “J” wanted to prove he was a big boy and begged to be allowed to pump the gas. His mom told him that he could and she told him to pump $20.00 worth. After a few minutes, I happened to look out the window only to see gasoline pouring in streams down the side of her car. “J! What are you doing?”….his mom was somewhat pissed. “Why didn’t you stop the pump when the tank was full?”

He replied, “Because you told me to pump twenty dollars worth and I’m only at $19.00 now.!”

This story bring to mind one about my sister-in-law, too. She drove off with the gas pump still in her gas tank! For real!!!!

“edited”….well, it’s 2:30pm and I haven’t done any of the things listed above.

Boy, I’ve totally shot this day. But, at least, I’ve kept warm.

 Today is National Nothing Day! Go celebrate. I’m going to celebrate inside (where it’s nice and warm) by doing NOTHING!

I’ve been swamped  lazy indifferent kinda busy lately and haven’t had time to post. I’ve been making notes for posts but unfortunately, I lost them just like I do anything else that I write down on paper.  I’ll catch up sooner or later…..maybe.

Today, I just want to know what everyone thought about the hat that Aretha Franklin wore at the inauguration. In case you live in a cave or have been held captive by a sex-crazed deranged stalker, here is THE HAT…..

 

My first impression was that it was a cross between Betty Boopish and a rhinestone covered pre-Civil War mammy do-rag.  I kind of thought that she might sing “R-E-S-P-E-C-T BOOP POOP A DOOP. (or whatever those profound lyrics by Ms. Boop are).

Now, don’t go calling me racist because I am not. And, I’m not one of those people who feel paranoid and have to list all the reasons that I am not racist (including names of black friends).  That is just the impression that I got of the hat.

After looking at it since, I actually like the hat. It could have been a tad smaller but it took balls to wear that hat. And, honey, Aretha has balls.

Admittedly, I am not one to be in position to judge head-wear. The last time that I bought and wore a hat, TrailerParkKen told me that I looked like a 1960’s scruffy Bob Dylan.

 

 

I love seeing other people in hats, though. Some people just have great hat-heads but I’m not one of them.

 

 

For I’m playing fashion critic, I didn’t like Michelle Obama’s outfit either. It looked like couch upholstry.

So, whaddya y’all think?

I got this in my email from a friend……

 

I replied with, “I certainly hope so!”

I receive at least a half of a dozen emails everyday that demand that I forward them to at least 7 people or…

1. I’m embarrassed to admit that I believe in God
2. Something terrible is going to happen at 3:02 am.
3. I’m going to have bad luck for the rest of the week

or…..

Y’ll know what I’m talking about. These emails annoy me worse than the male-enhancement, fake lottery, or find your true soulmate emails.

Today, I got a different type and I enjoyed it so much that I am passing it on to all of y’all……

WHAT AN INCREDIBLE STORY!!!!!!!

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University
On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed,so Peter approached it very carefully.
He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly,turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.
Probably wasn’t the same elephant.

This is for everyone who sends me those heart-warming bullshit stories.

So, there ya go. Copy this and send it to those people who flood your inbox with all those made-up stories of people in dire need of prayer, chain-mails that have horrible consequences if you break them, religious emails that if you don’t forward, you are a terrible person, etc.

Obama  “Way-to-go- Joe”  Biden is going to swear in our brand new treasury secretary!!!!

Yep, Timothy Geithner got the nod.

Check it out, boys and girls! No more taxes for  small businesses! Yessirree! Because, surely, if golden- boy Obama is putting the US Prez stamp of approval on a high profile tax cheater, then we can cheat, too!!! Right???!!!!!!

Whaaat? I still have to be honest and pay my taxes? Surely, you jest! Does that seem fair? And, afterall, Mr. B.H.O. is all about being fair to evreryone.

Isn’t he?

The fun has just begun, friends.  Now, I know how it feels to proclaim…”I didn’t vote for him!”………

Some of you may have already seen this. If so, laugh at it again. One cannot laugh too often or too much (unless it’s in church during prayer).

(Here’s the reply the teacher received the following day)  
 
Dear Mrs. Jones,
I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer.  
I work at Home Depot and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit.  I told her we sold out every single shovel we had, and then I found one more in the back room, and that several people were fighting over who would get it.    Her picture doesn’t show me dancing around a pole.  It’s supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot.
From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly before she turns it in.
Sincerely,
Mrs.  Smith  

On the flip side of the coin……..

I got these jokes in my email from my niece. I always open her emails because they are usually very funny. She works for one of the largest financial groups in the country. I won’t mention their name but they are the recipients of a huge financial bailout. My niece forwards me lots and lots of emails and I can see from the previous addresses that the stuff is sent very frequently from worker to worker. I’m not sure if this says that the company has no work for them to do or if the company has lots of work to do but the employees would rather spend the day sending funny emails to each other and their friends and family. But…hey….at least I’m getting something for my tax dollars.

 

WOMAN’S YEARLY EXAM
I went to the doctor for my yearly physical.
The nurse starts with certain basics.
How much do you weigh?’ she asks.
‘135,’ I say.
The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.
The nurse asks, ‘Your height?’ ‘5 foot 4,’ I say.
The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5′2′.
She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
‘Of course it’s high!’ I scream,
‘When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I’m short and
fat!’
She put me on Prozac.Also, got this in my email. I’ve seen it before and you probably have, too. But, it is worth reading again.

MOM (Mean Old Mother)

Poem to MOM

My son came home from school one day,

With a smirk upon his face.

He decided he was smart enough,

To put me in my place.

‘Guess what I learned in Civics Two,

that’s at taught by Mr. Wright?

It’s all about the laws today,

The ‘Children’s Bill of Rights.’

It says I need not clean my room,

Don’t have to cut my hair

No one can tell me what to think,

Or speak, or what to wear.

I have freedom from religion,

And regardless what  you say,

I don’t have to bow my head,

And I sure don’t have to pray.

I can wear earrings if I want,

And pierce my tongue & nose.

I can read & watch just what I like,

Get tattoos from head to toe.

And if you ever spank me,

I’ll charge you with a crime.

I’ll back up all my charges,

With the marks on my behind.

Don’t you ever touch me,

My body’s only for my use,

Not for your hugs and kisses,

that’s just more child abuse.

Don’t preach about your morals,

Like your Mama did to you.

That’s nothing more than mind control,

And it’s illegal too!

Mom, I have these children’s rights,

So you can’t influence me,

Or I’ll call Children’s Services Division,

Better known as C.S.D.’

Mom’s Reply and Thoughts

Of course my first instinct was

To toss him out the door.

But the chance to teach him a lesson

Made me  think a little more.

I mulled it over carefully,

I couldn’t let this go .

A smile crept upon my face,

he’s messing with a pro.

Next day I took him shopping

At the local Goodwill Store..

I told him, ‘Pick out all you want,

there’s shirts & pants galore.

I’ve called and checked with C.S.D .

Who said they didn’t care

If I bought you K-Mart shoes

Instead of those Nike Airs.

I’ve canceled that appointment

To take your driver’s test.

The C.S.D. Is unconcerned

So I’ll decide what’s best. ‘

I said ‘No time to stop and eat,

Or pick up stuff to munch.

And tomorrow you can start to learn

To make your own sack lunch.

Just save the raging appetite,

And wait till dinner time.

We’re having liver a n d onions,

A favorite dish of mine.’

He asked ‘Can I please rent a movie,

To watch on my VCR?’

‘Sorry, but I sold your TV,

For new tires on my car.

I also rented out your room,

You’ll take the couch instead.

The C.S.D. requires Just a roof over your head.

Your clothing won’t be trendy now,

I’ll choose what we eat.

That allowance that you used to get,

Will buy me something neat.

I’m selling off your jet ski,

Dirt-bike & roller blades.

Check out the ‘Parents Bill of Rights’,

It’s in effect today!

Hey, hot shot, are you crying?

Why are you on your knees?

Are you asking God to help you out,

Instead of C.S.D.?’

I’ve got lots to do today. So, I am relunctly leaving this blog to go tackle some laundry.

What a bitch!!!!

 

The Black Bra

I had lunch with 2 of my unmarried friends.  One is engaged, one is a mistress, and of course I have been married for 20+ years.

We were chatting about our relationships and decided to amaze our men by wearing a black leather bra, stiletto heels and a mask over our eyes.  We agreed to meet in a few days to exchange notes.  Here’s how it all went.

My engaged friend:  The other night when my boyfriend came over he found me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask.  He saw me and said, ‘You are the woman of my dreams.  I love you.’  Then we made love all night long.

The mistress:  Me too!  The other night I met my lover at his office and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels and mask over my eyes and a raincoat.  When I opened the raincoat he didn’t say a word, but we had wild sex all night.

Then I had to share my story:

When my husband came home I was wearing the leather bodice, black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes.  As soon as he came in the door and saw me he said, ‘What’s for dinner, Batman?’

Of all the people in my life, my Mom was the only one that remains completely without fault in my mind. I’m sure that she wasn’t perfect. Who is? But, she was a wonderful mother who taught me to laugh at just about anything and everything if life. For this, I am eternally grateful. My Mom has been dead for 20 years now. Some days, it seems like I just saw her yesterday. Other days, it seems like I’ve been all my life without her.

I don’t what what triggered this memory. It’s a silly one of a brief moment…..one that you never expect at the time that you would emember  for  20+ years. It makes me wonder just what silly little thing will TrailerParkSkipper and TrailerParkMidge remember about me.

We had been shopping in a local discount store. My Mom was looking for a lamp shade that day.  She had spotted one or two that she liked but wanted to shop at some other places before she bought one.

It was almost time for TPSkipper to come home from school so I hurried Mom to the checkout to pay for the few things that she had decided to buy. That’s when I spotted a book on one of the checkout counters. I read the title….”Poop Boy and A Long Way From Home”. I pointed it out to my Mom and commented on the crazy title. She burst into laughter and I, for the life of me, could not figure out what was so darn funny. Then, she reached over and move the book just an inch or two, showing me that I had misread the title.

It was actually “Poor Boy and A Long Way From Home“.

Years later, I told this story to my daughters. Just like me and my mother before me, they have a silly sense of humor. Poop Boy became a tag for reading mistakes. Whenever TPSkipper reads something wrong (or I do), I look at her and say, “Poop Boy!” and we both crack up.

That was the last shopping trip that I ever got to take with my Mom. She died shortly after from cancer. When I think of Poop Boy, I can still hear her laughing. I miss that ol’ girl. She was the funnest person ever!

Yep….that’s the stuff of which memories are made. I wonder what my daughters will remember about me?

Spokeswoman Says Nadya Suleman Has Named All 8 Babies, Looks Forward to Telling Her Story

I edited the title of this post today. After finding out more about this crazy woman, I decided that she didn’t qualify for the title, “That Poor Woman”.

(01-27) 04:00 PST Bellflower, Los Angeles C” “ounty –

A woman gave birth Monday to eight babies in a span of five minutes, only the second time in history live octuplets have been born, doctors said. Read rest here.

Now, anybody  who has read my blog for very long knows one thing……I take great care of my poontang. I’ve written enough posts about it!   I know that she had 46 doctors and had a C-section. But, daayammmm…..that is giving me sharp pains in my nether region just thinking about it! I feel like grabbing my coochie and crying’.

I was searching the internet for a pregnant belly to post here and came across this belly. Last fall, TPSkipper and I were competing to see who could get the most free stuff on the internet. I came across a site (don’t ask me how I got there) that was having a contest for the best decorated Fall/Halloween themed pregnant belly. I “borrowed” this picture and entered the contest. “My belly” did not win! Next time, I’ll find a bigger one!

 

 

Update:

The California woman who recently gave birth to octuplets is not overwhelmed and is looking forward to telling her story, her spokeswoman said today.

Nadya Suleman is a “wonderful woman,” spokeswoman Joann Killeen said today on “Good Morning America.” “She’s smart, she’s bright, she’s articulate, she’s well-educated and she has a wonderful sense of humor.”

Suleman, 33, remains in a hospital in southern California after giving birth Jan. 26 to the octuplets. Suleman, who has six other children, is now the mother of 10 boys and four girls younger than 8. All were born by in vitro fertilization, her mother has said.

Despite what might seem like an overwhelming number of children and despite her family’s apparent financial difficulties, Suleman is “upbeat” about her future, Killeen said.

“She’s very joyful. Nadya is a very balanced and together woman,” she said.

“She’s very, very happy and joyful for the miracle of life and the babies.”

Suleman has held the babies and has named them, Killeen said, though she declined to reveal the names.

In a statement released today, Kaiser Permanente’s Bellflower Medical Center said all eight babies are breathing unassisted as they continue to feed on donated breast milk and receive intravenous nutritional supplements.

“This has been a very good week for the babies. It is always satisfying to be able to see a baby that was born premature continue to get stronger every day,” Dr. Mandhir Gupta said in the statement.

From another online article:

The California woman who gave birth to octuplets on Monday, although once married, apparently had all 14 of her kids out of wedlock by artificial means — and various public records raise questions about the family’s ability to support them.

Meanwhile, a friend and neighbor of the new mother defended her decisions to ABC News and insisted she will have plenty of assistance raising her 14 children.

“Nadya has a lot of friends that are very supportive and willing to help in any way they can,” Jessica Zepeda said Sunday evening outside her Whittier, CA. home. She called Doud a “wonderful mother” and an ”awesome parent.”

Zepeda and Doud’s children play and go to school together. Zepeda expressed frustration with critical coverage of the octuplet birth in the media and suggested that it was preventing her children from seeing their friends.

“They can’t – because of all the cameras in front of her house,” Zepeda said.

ABC News has learned through San Bernardino Superior Court Records that the 33-year-old California woman, whose name is Nadya Doud or Nadya Suleman (she filed to have her name changed to Nadya Suleman in 2001 — though it was not clear if the request was granted), divorced her husband, Marcos Gutierrez, in January 2008.

The document indicates “no children of the marriage,” suggesting that Gutierrez was not the father of Doud’s previous six children.

Last week, the woman’s mother, Angela Suleman, said her daughter has been obsessed with having children since she was a teenager, according to an interview she conducted late Friday with The Associated Press.

Angela Suleman told the AP that all 14 children were conceived through in vitro fertilization, because her daughter had always had trouble conceiving because her fallopian tubes were “plugged up.” She said that while all the kids came from a single sperm donor, the donor is not Marcos Guitierrez.

An AP review of birth records identified a David Solomon as the father of the oldest four children.

Doud lived with Gutierrez for about three-and-a-half years from August 1996 until January 2000, when she moved back with her parents, Edward Doud Suleman and Angela Suleman, living at several addresses, records show. The parents were granted a divorce in Las Vegas in 1999, but evidently still live together.

After leaving Gutierrez, Doud began having her 14 children.

Another set of court documents may raise the question of whether Doud will be able to afford care for all those kids. The public records indicate that Doud’s mother filed for bankruptcy in March 2008.

The family currently lives in a three-bedroom home in suburban Los Angeles. Bankruptcy court records show that, as of March 2008, the family owned a second home in the same area.

As of March, Edward Doud Suleman, apparently the octuplets’ grandfather, was working in Iraq, according to the bankruptcy filing. The couple’s combined monthly income was listed as roughly $8,740, but the filing indicated that Angela Suleman expected their income would rise from her husband’s employment. It said that he would earn $100,000 a year. The document did not specify Suleman’s husband’s occupation, but Suleman told the Los Angeles Times that her husband was a contractor.

Angela Suleman told the newspaper that her daughter had fertility treatment but never expected the treatment would result in eight babies.

She said that raising 14 children “was going to be difficult.”

Nadya Suleman (a.k.a. Doud) reportedly held a psychiatric technician’s license, though it was not clear if she was currently employed.

She holds a 2006 degree in child and adolescent development from California State University, Fullerton, and as late as last spring she was studying for a master’s degree in counseling, a college official told ABC News.

In a statement released today, Kaiser Permanente Bellflower Medical Center in Bellflower, Calif., where the children were born, said the infants were showing “good progress.” All of the babies are breathing unassisted, and are being tube-fed donated breast milk and given intravenous nutritional supplements, the statement said.

No matter what someone earns, giving birth and caring for octuplets is an expensive proposition. The infants’ delivery was performed by a team of 46 doctors, nurses and surgical assistants stationed in four delivery rooms at the Bellflower Medical Center, and it likely cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

“Where is the milk money going to come from? How are we going to get these children to bed at night? Who is going to stay up with six children?” asked Dr. Charles Sophy of L.A. County Children and Family Services. “There is a lot of realty setting in.”

“You can think of it as an eightfold increase on a singleton birth,” said Steven M. Donn, director of the Division of Neonatal-Perinatal Medicine at the University of Michigan Health System. “By comparison, the mother’s care will probably be a bargain.”

Costs for the average delivery of a full-term pregnancy range from $9,000 to $25,000, depending on whether the baby is delivered by Caesarean section or vaginally. Eight times $25,000 is a whopping $200,000.

But Donn said the cost of the octuplets’ delivery likely exceeded that number because doctors prepared for the risks associated with a multiple-birth delivery.

“For reasons we don’t completely understand, risks with multifetal deliveries are greater than [normal births],” Donn said.

The medical costs for babies born preterm, like the California octuplets, which were born nine weeks premature, are also above average.

“The real significant costs come on the pediatric side, particularly when it comes to neonatal intensive care,” said Dr. Geeta Swamy, a maternal-fetal specialist at Duke University Medical Center.

A full-term pregnancy lasts from 38 to 42 weeks, according to the National Institutes of Health, and Swamy estimated for babies born at 30 weeks the hospital stay could be “anywhere from six weeks to six months.”

For an infant stay in a neonatal intensive care unit, costs can add up to “a few thousand a day,” she said.

“So we are looking at probably several hundreds of thousands of dollars for the family. If it is $100,000 per baby, for example, then it would be $800,000 for all eight,” Swamy said.

I love this quote from the grandma:

Nadya Suleman wanted to have children since she was a teenager, “but luckily she couldn’t,” her mother said.

“Instead of becoming a kindergarten teacher or something, she started having them, but not the normal way,” he mother said.

 

Got this in my email this morning and thought I’d pass it along.

 

Time to replace your “W” stickerIt is time to get rid of those “W” bumper stickers you’ve seen for the past 8 years. That administration is done.

The election is over. Get past it. Get used to the idea of a new president and the new administration!!

Here’s the bumper sticker you’ll need for at least 4 years.

 

BTW….THE FINAL #’S ARE IN FROM THE INAUGURATION.

1,672,328 OBAMA SUPPORTERS ATTENDED THE CEREMONY.

ONLY 9 HAD TO MISS WORK

 

First, I want to statethat I’m copying Greg Gutfield of  Red Eye  by using the nonword, checkerouters. Just want to give credit where credit is do. If you have the humor level of a high school aged boy (and I do), you must check out Red Eye. The shows comes on very, very late (one in the morning) but you can watch most of it on the Red Eye  website.

Recently, I was given a great opportunity of being interviewed by The Vinyl Villager.  VV has a really great blog with lots of funny stories about his life. He, also, writes about things in the news and makes some of the funniest comments that I have ever read. I’ve known VV for a long time but this does not make me partial to his blog. If his blog sucked, I’d just privately read it and never mention it to y’all. He is sarcastically witty. Best of all, he makes just as much fun of himself as he does anyone/anything else. Ya gotta love someone who does that.

So, after reading this post, y’all get your lil’ fannies on over to the Vinyl Village and start you day with a good laugh.

I’m gonna give a shout-out to one more blog……Mad Haiku.  This guy is funny in a really off-the-wall way. Check out his Moby Dick in Haiku. That’s some funny stuff.

OK…I was honored to be chosen by Vinyl Village to do an interview with him. If you would like to be interviewed by VV, go check out his blog post on interviews and leave him a comment.

Here’s my interview:

1.. Whenever bad weather is coming, people run out to get milk and  bread. What do you make sure to stock up on if you know you’ll be stuck at home for a few days?

I just gots to have me some of them Little Debbie cakes and Diet Coke! Almost as important is toilet paper and coffee. But, truthfully, I’m not one to run to the grocery store at the first mention of snow. Our weather people on the local news only get it right about 25% of the time. So, I just stick my head out the window. If it’s snowing, I’m not too worried. Living in the boogerwoods for years has required an SUV to get around. So, I’m pretty much ready to go when I feel the need or desire.
In the worse case scenario and I couldn’t get out, I’d just pull out one of our many guns and hunt me down some of the critters that wander around here. In the event that I couldn’t find any critters, I’d hop on hubby’s big-ass John Deere tractor and head out to WalMart. I would still be toting my guns to fend off people who might try to grab from  me that last box of Devil Dongs.

2. Since you’ve known the Vinyl Villager since God was a boy, tell everyone some of your funniest or most embarassing stories on him.

I could tell a funny or embarrassing one. However, many of them would involve his Mama and he tells those stories much better than I ever could. So, I’ll leave writing about them (like the turkey that she left in her car truck and it rotted)  to him. But, my favorite story is when The Vinyl Villager   first learned to read. He was 3-4 years old and his Mama was bragging about how he had started reading big words and big-people books. I have to admit that I was a little skeptical….not that he could read but that he could read all the stuff that she said he could.  My lil’ TrailerParkSkipper is only 4 days younger than VV. And, no braggin’, just fact’, she was sharp as a tack. But, there was no way in Oompaloompa Land that she could read words with more than two syllables.  So, I was a tad unbelieving but…then, I heard something that darn near brought me to my knees in surprise. That little rascal had picked up a BIBLE and was reading it as well as Billy Graham!  Waaaay  better than Rev. “G-damn America” Wright. So, being the skeptic that I am, I thought that maybe he had just memorized a verse (which come to think of it is pretty darn genius for a kid that age). What was I suppose to think? Sheesh, most of the kids on my side of the family were still stumbling around with “Billy Eats Beets”. And, they were old enough to drive themselves to school!
In all seriousness. VV was one of the smartest and best behaved child that I’ve ever known. Now, years later, I’m not so sure that I could say that. Just go read his blog and you’ll see what I mean.
PS…VV…I was gonna say “smartest and best behaved children” in our entire family. But, frankly, you didn’t have a lot of competition when I think about all the bratty, annoying heathen children that were in our family. Not gonna mention any names but there were two who lived near you.  We’ll just call them “Moey” and “Thad“. I’m sure you know who I’m talking about….the one’s whose mother had an imaginary psych degree.
 

3. If you could change any ONE thing about yourself–mental, physical, etc. what would it be?

Ouch! That’s a hard choice. I don’t think that I could choose between those two. So, I’ll take “FINANCIAL” for $500, Alec! I’d be a rich woman who gave $20 bills to strangers. My mental deficiencies are pretty much equal to my physical deficiencies so I’d be hard pressed to pick one of those.
 
4. How did you get started blogging and what is your favorite thing about doing it?

There are several reasons.
I started blogging because I’m a crazy lady that lives in the boogerwoods. It was either blog or collect cats. And, I didn’t want to be known as The Crazy Cat Lady Who Lives In The Woods.  It’s much more desirable to be known as  The Crazy Lady Who Lives In the Boogerwoods and Never Gets Off Of Her Computer.

I, also, thought that I might attract the attention of Danny Bonaduce or Gary Busey. I would love to have them comment on my blog. Both are Crazy (with a captial C) but, very interesting. It would be dabomb to have Busey comment something crazy but profound.  Unfortunately, my original plan of sticking one or both names into every post that I wrote just didn’t work. I mean….how the hell can I mention of  them when writing one of my poontange posts? Or, my stinky belly button posts?  I’ve learned a lot about myself by blogging. I’ve discovered that my poontang and stinky belly button are more important and interesting to me that Gary or Danny. Sorry, guys.

PS….Maybe, I will tag this post with Busey and Bonaduce and they’ll comment!

 
To be serious (yuck), I’ve written stories and poems since I was in Jr. High. I like writing. I actually won a couple of awards in high school. But, the blog was really for me to write all kinds of crap about my family without them knowing it. I intended for it to be a place that I could express anger, disappointed, sadness, and …..HaHa…I crack me up! Actually, I just wanted ATTENTION and the assurance that there just might be other people out there with lives as crazy and dysfunctional as mine.
 
5. Which of the following would you find most embarrassing to have happen to you in public, and which have you actually done: 1. a loud, smelly expulsion of gas. 2. an accidental nipple flash, 3. an accidental cootchie flash, 4. being with someone else who did one of the above.
 
1.  Loud explosion of gas….Done it…..yes, it was embarrassing. The most awful thing about it was that I was on a first date with a guy. He was haaawt and I think that the happiness of being on a date with him just made me explode.

It was, also, our last date.
 
2.Nipple…. Done it but only to my doctor. Not so embarrassing so it probably doesn’t count.
 
3.Cootchie flash….close. Once I was getting ready for a bath. TPKen had just left. The doorbell rang and I thought it was him because he was always  forgetting something. He would  leave his keys in his car and pound on the door.  I wrapped a not so large towel around myself and went to the door. Not TPKen. It was the guy who lived across the road. I just acted like I walked around like that all of the time and pretty much remained calm. But, he immediately looked at my feet, told me that he was looking for TPKen and promptly left.
 
4.Yes,….TPMidge is a master of farting, belching, flashing, and all sorts of other things. TPSkipper tends to be more ladylike in the gassy dept. in public as well as with the belching. But, that girl will “moon” ya in a New York minute. Heathens!  Those two have broken up the boring mile-after-mile driving of many a trucker.
 
5. (I added one) Puking in public….Yes, waaaay more times that I care to admit to. I think puking in public is far worse than farting or belching in public. You can blame a fart or a burp on somebody else. But, face it, there’s no way to blame that puddle of vomit on another person since it was seen coming out of you.

So, that’s my interview.

Thanks for the questions, VV.

I received this in my email today from my sister-in-law. I haven’t been able to find out if it was for real or not, but I sure hope that it is!

Actual Ad on Craig’s List

To:  The Guy Who Mugged Me in Downtown, Savannah , GAI was the white guy with the black Burrberry jacket that you demanded I hand over shortly after you pulled the knife on me and my girlfriend. You also asked for my girlfriend’s purse and earrings. I hope you somehow come across this message. I’d like to apologize.I didn’t expect you to crap your pants when I drew my pistol after you took my jacket. Truth is, I was wearing the jacket for a reason that evening, and it wasn’t that cold outside. You see, my girlfriend had just bought me that Kimber 1911 .45 ACP pistol for Christmas, and we had just picked up a shoulder holster for it that evening. Beautiful pistol, eh? It’s a very intimidating weapon when pointed at your head, isn’t it?I know it probably wasn’t a great deal of fun walking back to wherever you’d come from with that brown sludge flopping about in your pants. I’m sure it was even worse since you also ended up leaving your shoes, cellphone, and wallet with me. I couldn’t have you calling up any of your buddies to come help you try to mug us again. I took the liberty of calling your mother, or “Momma” as you had her listed in your cell, and explaining to her your situation. Man she was pissed. I also bought myself some gas on your card, I filled up all the cars at the station while i was there.      I gave your  shoes to one of the homeless guys over by Vinnie Van Go Go’s, along with all of the cash in your wallet, then I threw the wallet itself in a dumpster. I called a bunch of phone sex numbers from your cell. They’ll be on your bill in case you’d like to know which ones. Alltel recently shut down the line, and I’ve only had the phone for a little over a day now, so I don’t know what’s going on with that. I hope they haven’t permanently cut off your service. I was about to make some threatening phone calls to the DA’s office with it. But oh well. So, about your pants; I know that I was a little rough on you when you did this whole attempted mugging thing, so I’d like to make it up to you. I’m sure you’ve already washed your pants, so I’d like to help you out. I’d like to reimburse you for the detergent you used on the pants. What brand did you use, and was it liquid or powder? I’d also like to apologize for not killing you and instead making you walk back home humiliated. I’m hoping that you’ll reconsider your choice of path in life. Next time you might not be so lucky. If you read this message, email me and we’ll do lunch and laundry, but you have to come without the mask this time, i

wanna see your face !!!!! Peace! – Alex

 

Boy, I sure hope that “Alex” is for real!!!!!

Watch this guy doing a parody of Aretha at the inauguration. I laugh so hard that I had to go potty halfway thru it. So, I went back to the

beginning and watched it all the way thru.

Saaaaweeeeet!

I got this in my email today from my sister-in-law. I had a draft for a post prepared but thought that y’all might enjoy this!

Stimulus Payment Information That We All Can Understand
 
“This year, taxpayers will receive an Economic Stimulus Payment.
 This is a very exciting new program that I will explain using the Q and
 A  format:
 
Q. What is an Economic Stimulus Payment?
A. It is money that the federal government will send to taxpayers.
 
Q. Where will the government get this money?
 A. From taxpayers.
 
Q. So the government is giving me back my own money?
 A. Only a smidgen.
 
Q. What is the purpose of this payment?
 A. The plan is that you will use the money to purchase a high-definition  TV set, thus stimulating the economy.

 
Q. But isn’t that stimulating the economy of China ?
 A. Shut up.
 
Below is some helpful advice on how to best help the US economy by spending your stimulus check wisely:

 If you spend that money at Wal-Mart, all the money will go to China.
 If you spend it on gasoline it will go to the Arabs.
If you purchase a computer it will go to India.
 If you purchase fruit and vegetables it will go to Mexico, Honduras, and
 Guatemala (unless you buy organic).
 If you buy a car it will go to Japan.
 If you purchase useless crap it will go to Taiwan.
 
And none of it will help the American economy.
 
We need to keep that money here in America. You can keep the money in  America by spending it at yard sales, going to a baseball game, or spend it on prostitutes, beer and wine (domestic ONLY), or tattoos, since those are the only businesses still in the US.

Since I am a patriotic American, this weekend, I plan to go to some yard sales, hire me a ho’fo’sho’ and take him to a ballgame. Then, I’ll swing by the liquor store, pick up beer or wine. I’ll drink enough of it to be slightly tipsy and go get a tatoo (while my male ho’fo’sho’ holds  my hand.) After the tatoo is finished, we’ll head back to my house and drink the rest of the alcoholic beverages. When finished wth all the drinks, we’ll play a game of “How Much Stuff In My House Was Made 100%  In America!”  I’m afraid that the only things that we will find that fit that critera is me and him. And, I’m not so sure about him.

Are you like me? Do you watch the Super Bowl mainly for the ads? In case you missed them, here is a link with all of the ads.

I love the Dorito one and the Pepsi Max. But, I haven’t watched them all yet. Which do you like?

 

Super Bowl Ads

It’s been a long winter here in the boogerwoods. Lots of snow and ice making roads hard to navigate. The main roads are generally OK by noon. But, I live off the beaten path where mostly wild animals and 4-wheelers roam freely. The wild animals don’t bother me. The 4-wheelers are another story. I’m not an anti-fun type of girl or grumpy ol’ biotch. It’s just that the 4-wheelers are being operated by kids with no helmets and they drive them very fast right in the middle of the road.

 A few years ago, TrailerParkKen got hit by a 4-wheeler while driving out the road. I say that he got hit not that he hit one.  I say that because TPK was driving slowly (criminey, he drives like a 100 yr old geezer on this road…about 10mph), when a dirt bike came flying around a curve headed straight at us. Ken swerved to avoid head-on impact but couldn’t toally prevent a collision. The dirt bike hit us on the front fender. The boy rolled across the hood of our car and landed in a patch of woods on the other side. SCARY! He laid there motionless and I thought that he had been killed. Thank the good Lord, he was just stunned. He had some scrapes and bruises. And, he may have pooped his pants becaue he smelled like crap. He needed to thank his lucky stars that shittin’ his pants was the worse thing that happened to him.

TPKen wanted to call the police. But, I knew the boy’s parents and convinced him to just drive the boy home and tell his folks what had happened. His dad agreed to pay for the big dent in my fender and we agreed to not press any charges. Sadly, the boy did not learn a lesson. He now has his driver’s license and drives like a manic. He might not be so lucky next time he hits somebody.

What really bothers me, though, is the number of adults who have small children with no helmets on the back of their 4-wheelers. Kids that look no older than 2 or  yrs old. And, they go pretty fast, rounding curves at a precarious angle with the kid bobbing around like a Backwoods Redneck Bobblehead Doll.  This is so dangerous. I think that it borders on child neglect. I’m sure that the adults think that they are just having fun with their kids. I wish they’d think of what could happen if they roll over or get hit my a car.

In our old neighborhood, we had a family who had no regards for their neighbors. They had 2 4-wheelers and the entire family would ride them up and down the road at all hours of the day and night.  That particular summer, it had not rained for a long time and the dirt road in front of my house was dry as sand in the desert. The noise from the 4-wheelers going up and down the road, up and down the road, up…you get the idea….was bad. But, worse than that was the dust sent flying all over everything. My house there did not have air-conditioning. I had a couple of small window units but they didn’t do much. This family had dust constantly swirling and it would blow down on my house and through my windows which were screened. The screens stayed dirty and blocked with road dust. The air-conditoning units were being clogged with road dust. We couldn’t even sit on our front porch without dust being blown into our eyes, noses, and mouths. And, THIS WAS STARTING TO PISS ME OFF REALLY BAD!

 The only thing that I could think of to stop having to eat dust and have gritty eyes was to cover my face while outside. Not attractive nor practical. So, then I called the sheriff’s department. I just wanted them to scare the people a little with a warning. But, I was informed by the sheriff’s department that even though 4-wheelers were illegal on neighborhoods streets, the riders had to be caught in the act. And, I was told, the sheriff’s department did not have enough manpower to post an officer in our neighborhood at that time. I was told to call again later if they didn’t stop.

Well, that didn’t work. So, I figured that I would take a nice neighbor approach and reason with them. One morning very early, I heard the dreaded sound of the 4-wheelers coming up the road. I ran out of my house and to the end of my driveway. My plan was to stop them and explain the problems that they were causing with all the dust from the bikes. So…here they came……and there they went. They turned around at the top of the hill and came back by and kept on going. This was despite the fact that I was yelling at the top of my lungs asking them to stop for second. The riders were a boy of around 8 yrs old and a girl who was around 12 yrs old. I stood and watched them pull into their driveway where their mother was standing. I watched them talk to each other for a couple of minutes. Then, I saw the mother and the oldest brother, who was 15 yrs old, get on the 4-wheelers and turned to head my way. Great! I thought that  this was going to be a piece of cake. I was sure that the mother was going to drive over and talk to me. I’d be able to reason with her, an adult. Right?????

Wrong!!!!!!!! Instead of stopping, both riders did a little spin-around right in front of me thereby, throwing dust and dirt all over me from head to toe. Then, they took off and they were laughing.

OK! Now, I was super-pissed!!!!! I decided to stand my ground and didn’t budge an inch from where I had been standing when those shit-heads covered me in road dust. 

After about 15 minutes and no 4-wheelers, I thought that, maybe, I had made my point. Unfortunately, that was not the case. As soon as I left my sentry at the head of the driveway, here they came again.

I was just about to throw in the towell when I happened to glance at my rose bushes…..covered in dust. And, my porch furniture had so much dust on it that it looked like it was painted beige instead white. And the window screens….so much dust and dirt that you couldn’t even see in them. And, I got MORE PISSED OFF!

So, I grabbed a folding lawn year and put it in position at the head of the driveway. Then, I unwound a very long length of water hose. I needed to hose off the dust on everything, right? But, who could blame me if I just happened to be squiriting water at the flowers (now brown) that lined my fence? And, would it be my fault if 4 wheelers happen to go by just at the water was hitting the road?

So, that was my plan. But, a little used pocket of  little used common sense in my brain took over and reminded me that hosing the riders down could cause them to wreck. I didn’t want them to wreck. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. So, I had to scrap that plan. Damn…it sure wouldn’ve been fun, though! I tucked my tail between my legs and went in the house. I had lost the battle but not the war. I had to think of another plan. Or, just let it go and suffer thru a Gigantic Dust Bowl summer.

 

After a few very, very hot and DUSTY days, I couldn’t take this any longer. Early one morning around 7:30, I heard the loud sound of the motors starting up again. I figured that I would give diplomacy one more chance. I went outside and walked to the head of the driveway and waited for the brats to come by. When they got within sight, I made myself put a big smile on my face and began waving my arms to signal that I wanted to talk to them. This time it was the 12 yr old boy with a the youngest boy riding shotgun  and  a kid that I had never seen riding together on one 4-wheeler.  The new kid was a boy who looked like he might be in his early teens. I was pleasantly surprised when they began to slow down when they got near me. Yay! They were going to stop and I was going to be really nice and ask them in a kind way to please stop riding up and down the road in front of my house. I would point out to them that if they turned to the right instead of the left when they came to the end of their road that there was a really good, unpopulated area that they could ride all day every day and not bother a single soul.

The 4-wheeler came to an almost stop when the little boy did this……  The new boy was smart enough to keep both hands on the wheel so she just said, “FUCK YOU!” Nice kids, huh?

I had enough!!!! So, here is what I did.

I put the lawn chair on my driveway. This time I did not set it near the road. I set it in about the middle so as not to be too obvious. Then I went in the house and got out a shot gun. Of course, it was not loaded. I checked to make sure that the chamber was empty so to avoid freak accidents. Then, I went out, sat down in the chair, and laid the shotgun across my lap.

Shortly, here they came again. It was obvious that they were wanting to taunt me some more because both of them were not even watching the road. Instead, they were gawking toward my house. They seemed disappointed to not see me at the end of the driveway. They had stopped laughing and had actually slowed down a little. Then, they decided to stop…..right in front of my house…..right in front of my driveway. Scanning the area with his eyes, the boy spotted me. And, the shotgun. ….. Our eyes met. His showed fear. Then the boys looked at each other, looked at me, and started their engines. You should have seen the cloud of dust left behind!

I was fully prepared to deal with the wrath of redneck parents. All morning, I kept listening for the doorbell to ring. Or, for two cursing, pissed off, ready to beat my ass parents to show up outside my house. But….nothing.

I, seriously, would never aim that shotgun at any of them much less shoot. But, I guess they didn’t know that.

That was the last of 4-wheelin’ dust throwing that summer. At the end of that summer, we moved into the house that we built and are living in now. I’ve run into former neighbors and ask them if the kids were still recklessly riding those 4-wheelers up and down the road. It turns out that they are not. And, it’s not because of me….the crazy woman with the shotgun. Shortly, after I moved, the father of those kids got drunk and shot himself in the leg. He went on disability (…another thing that pisses me off) and became a full-time drunk. Well, that’s not exactly true. He had a part time job selling drugs. He got busted and went to prison. When he got released, his wife divorced him and left him with the kids. One kid turned 18 and moved away. One kid grew up fast and became the caretaker of her little brother, the house, and her dad. I feel bad for them. But, I have no regrets scaring the shit out of them that summer. Maybe, somebody should have done it sooner. No way to know. I guess that’s life.

I got this in my email this morning. I’m really thankful that I’m getting some pretty decent and funny emails lately. I’m not feeling very creative in the writing department. My emails are giving me some post material. I don’t know the origin of this from but if any of you do, please tell me. I would love to give them credit for their sarcastic talent.

 

Yeah…I have to admit that I think eyes are the best part of the face…that is of course unless they are matched up with eyebrows like these…We may have to hold a vote afterwards to see who the winner is. 

OMG!! ARE HER EYEBROWS IN “TIMES NEW ROMAN” FONT??

IT’S A FRIEDA “BRATS DOLL!!” 

SHE WANTED TO BE FREIDA BUT COULD’NT COMMIT.

 I’M NOT SURE THIS IS A CHICK TO BE HONEST WITH YOU….

CATS…SERIOUSLY? IF YOU WERE GOING WITH AN ANIMAL THEME WHY NOT LIZARDS? AT LEAST THEY ARE LONG AND SKINNY!!  

 SHE HAS EYEBROW MANGE!!! DON’T GET TOO CLOSE GIRL!!

 

SHE WAS PLAYING TREE #3 AGAIN THIS YEAR IN THE SCHOOL PLAY…SIGH….

MAYBE SHE DREW HER EYEBROWS SUPER DARK TO DISTRACT FROM THE GIANT HICKEY ON HER NECK???

 

MOOD EYEBROWS …SHE WAS ANGRY THAT DAY…VERRY ANGRY AND SAW STAR TREK LAST NIGHT ON T.V.

 

WOW!! LONGEST EYEBROWS EVER!!

I DON’T THINK THAT IS ANYONES REAL HAIR COLOR AT ALL!

ARRGH! ME HULK LADY WANT TO DANCE WITH JONAS BROTHERS!!

EEK! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!

I…I JUST DON’T HAVE WORDS….AT LEAST HER EYES AND HAIR MATCH. I’M SCARED

ITS LIKE SHE SAID SOMETHING STUPID SO THEY TURNED TO LOOK AT HER AND SAY “WHAT YOU TALKIN’ BOUT WILLIS?”

SHE COULD AT LEAST PUT SOME HAIR GEL IN IT OR SOMETHING???

Now, it’s time to vote! Which one did you find the freakiest?

Due to heavy Dali Mama duties (like contemplating why my belly button is so darn deep), I have not had the time to enlighten (yeah…right!) you with any words of wisdom lately.

So, today’s post is brought to you by yahoo mail and the letter “Y”.    I got this in my email today.

Hmm, I’ve always wondered this myself. Now I know.

 

- The Silent generation, people born before 1946.
- The Baby Boomers, people born between 1946 and 1959.
- Generation X, people born between 1960 and 1979.
- Generation Y, people born between 1980 and 1995
Why do we call the last one generation Y? I did not know, but a brilliant cartoonist (whose name I can’t read) explains it eloquently below…
Learned something new today!

Jim -The Thoughtful Husband…

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are over-sensitive, and there’s nothing worse than an over-sensitive woman.

My name is Jim. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Christine. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Christine to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed.

Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work and although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don’t yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men’s Grill at the club so eating out twice is not reasonable. I’m ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it’s not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won’t clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take ‘em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won’t have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn’t hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn. I try not to make a scene. I’m a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Christine. I’m not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will even find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older.

However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

Signed,

Jim

 

 

I wrote this post at another blog. I deleted the blog and have decided to put some of the posts here.

Besides, my creative muse went on vacation. Or, somewhere. Took my damn brain with her, too.

 

Had a bad nite. A REALLY bad nite. I had a hard time going to sleep to begin with. I went to bed, got up, went to bed, got up, etc.

During one of the “got up” times, my armpit was itching. When I scratched it, I found that I had some extremely dry skin. Checked the other armpit and same thing. I figured I’d better do something about it or when spring came, I’d look like the Crypt Keeper….or worse, somebody would find a skeleton on my sofa with nothing left but dry skin flakes dusting the surroundings. So, I went to the bathroom closet and got out my Aquafor. Not the regular lotion stuff……the heavy duty salve-like  stuff. I greased up really good. Man, I coated arms, legs, elbows, hands, etc. with grease. I actually got carried away with the lube job due to the fact that I was watching  Red Eye  on TV . My fav  segment, TODAY IN MCCONAUGHEY  ,was on and that guy really cracks me up. So, I didn’t realize that I had slathered about 1/2 inch of grease coating on me.

I finally felt sleepy enough to go to bed….again. While trying to go to dreamland, I just layed there and tried to make sense of the constant, everchanging stream of thoughts that I’ve grown use to. My thoughts for some odd reason drifted to this female neighbor that we had when I was just a little kid….about 5 or 6. Her name was Nancy and she was a divorcee’ with an amazing will to do anything a man good do. This included chewing Red Man tobacco. I remember that Nancy always had a really tight home perm. Toni brand. I remember it was Toni brand because she began to give my mom and my older sister perms. I can remember seeing the box on the kitchen counter…..Toni home perm. And, I can remember that smell…..the Toni home perm smell! Awful! For anyone who has never smelled that home perm smell, just imagine somebody sticking their head in a bucket of Dupont chemicals. YUCK!!!!

Don’t know why I started thinking about that, but I did. I was thinking about it as I drifted off (finally) to sleep. But then…..

Crap! I had to pee. I finally start to fall asleep and I have to pee!

So, I hauled myself out of bed and went to the bathroom. Since, I was already up, I decided to get a drink of water from the kitchen. I was half-asleep. For the first time since I’ve lived here in this house (11 months), I didn’t turn any lights on. I have a fountain in the living room that has a light in it and it was shining enough for me to make out the sink in the kitchen. I went to the sink, got my drink of water, and started back to the bedroom. I had walked about two feet when…..BAM!!!!!!…..I ran head first into a wood-covered steel beam that is between the kitchen and living room. I must have been walking at a pretty good pace because I hit so hard that I fell to my knees. My knees hit the kitchen tile really hard. And I started to moan. I mean really MOAN. OMG….my head hurt. My knees hurt and the impact of running into the beam stunned me. I just sat there on the floor holding my head for a few minutes. I got up and felt my head. Sure, enough, there was a big goose-egg already forming. My knees were bruised and battered. I limped back to the bed and got in. Then, I started thinking, “Should I go to sleep? What if I don’t wake up?” That was my last thought until I woke up this morning.

At first, I thought that I had had just another weird dream since I tend to have crazy dreams. But, when I tried to move, I knew that it wasn’t a dream. Dear Lord, I hurt all over!

I slowly walked into the kitchen to make coffee. The beam caught my eye. There were greasy handprints from the Aquafor running down the length of it. And a greasy forehead print. I had to laugh, though. It was like something off of the Three Stooges or one of those shows.

Heed my advice…..don’t grease up and get up in the middle of the night.

Well, Einstein/aka TrailerParkKen  is at it again. I swear I can’t decide if he is super-smart or super-stupid. He is an engineer. He designs machine. He does blueprints for houses and stuff, too. He is great at that kind of stuff.  People all over the country know him and respect his inventing abilities.

But, ever once in a while, I have to question his sanity. Now, he’s gonna make……drumroll please…..OMG!……

MIRCROWAVE GUNS FOR HOME PROTECTION!!!!

Now, these are not just guns that you would have available to “cook”  intruders on demand. These guns would be mounted to the SIDES OF MY HOUSE! They would work in sequence with the motion detector lights. If something or someone set off the motion detector lights, they would get microwaved!!!

He was so excited when he started telling me about this. He had already done some research on the internet. But, the only thing that I could think about was…

….what if there was an emergency or something and somebody that we know and loved or the police or firemen  had to come and wake us up in the night…..they would get cooked like a Christmas goose!!!! Or, what if for some reason I had to come home after dark? I don’t think I would enjoy have my liver sautee’d or my lungs roasted. And, what about poor little stray cats or doggies?

On the bright side, though. I’d have plenty of already cooked turkeys and deer. All I’d have to do is go outside, skin ‘em,  strip ‘em and put ‘em on a plate.

I think MH is an idiot savant . Or, maybe, just an idiot.

Heaven help me!!!

OK…I know y’all aren’t going to believe that I’m so busy that I don’t have time to post. But, I swear, it’s true. So, here’s another story from my very first blog. As always….it’s true. It’s beginning to become pretty apparent to everyone by now (even me), that I know a lot of serious nutjobs.

Mary…that’s her name. Domestic chores/cleaning lady….that’s her game.

Mary is about 5 foot 4 inches tall. But 8 of those inches are stacked-up, Miss Kitty/Gunsmoke/Saloon girl hair. Mary appears to be meek and somewhat introverted…..at first.

Mary started cleaning for my older daughter about 2 years ago.TPSkipper was a substitue music teacher and needed a hand occasionally. Annie found Mary in a trade journal and hired her. Mary seemed nice enough although a bit strange.
But, she cleaned and did laundry and even started leaving little “Thank you for being my friend” notes around. But, Mary kept getting a little kookier and a little kookier, etc. One day Mary decided to cleaned my SIL’s very expensive suit for him….by putting it in the washing machine. Even though, it really pissed him off, they decided to just mention to her to not ever do that again. Then Mary started calling in with different dilemmas….two car accidents, constant doc appts., fights with her pschyo sister, etc. TPSkipper and hubby began to rethink having Mary around. The end came for Mary when she showed up for work, went into hubby’s office, and burst out in a hysterical howling. When asked what was wrong, she become a rapid descent off the deep end.
Mary said that she was scared of that picture playing on the office computer. It was frightening her. It was the DEVIL!!!! It was a  screen saver of The Matrix. Keneau Reeves was about to make Mary crap her pants.TPSkipper and hubby decided to give Mary her walking papers. Actually, they gave her to my other daughter to clean for her. But, Mary wasn’t too happy about this. She didn’t seem to understand getting fired. One day, TPSkipper came home and, lo and behold….there’s Mary!!! She knew that she had taken Mary’s key so she asked her how she got in. Mary had come THRU THE GARAGE! She had memorized their key pad numbers.
Hubby came home and told Mary that he had fired her. She said that she DIDN’T WANT TO BE FIRED!!! After, a standoff, they insisted that Mary leave and NOT come back.

So, Mary just packed up her little cleaning cart and went to TPMidge’s.

At this time, I need to tell you something else about Mary. Mary was going to Dr. W. Dr. W. is the pdoc that I went to once and found out that he had narcolepsy…..fell right damn sound asleep in the middle of my visit. He also had a skinhead son that worked for him. And his other son also worked there. He was either retarded or rude. Never figured out which one.  That was my first and LAST visit to Dr. W. Bad enough to be sitting in a pdoc chair. Truly awful when he falls to sleep in the middle of our conversation!

Anyway, turns out that Mary was seeing Dr W for depression…..and who knows what else. Mary showed TPMidge  her list of meds one day. This is hard to believe but here is what was on it: Ativan, Valium, Xanax, Trazadone, and an AD (don’t remember which one). GEEEEEEEZZZZZZ….what in the hell is he doing giving her all that shit???? All I could figure was that he wrote her a script, fell asleep, forgot what he had done, and wrote another one. I don’t know. That’s insane.

Last week, Midge’s hubby was in an important meeting out of town. He gets a call from his neighbor, Levi.  Levi is a nice, but rednecked Harley riding woman. Levi says that Mary can’t get into the townhouse because she has lost her key. Levi says Mary is all to pieces over it. TPMidge’s honey gets on the phone with Mary and just tells her to go home. Well, since Mary couldn’t clean, she sat and talked with Levi for a while before she left.Levi said that she might hire Mary SOMETIME to help her.

The next week, Levi gets a call from Mary. A very strange call from Mary.

Mary, “Tell Dr. W that I sent him a payment yesterday.”

Levi, “This is not Dr. W’s office. This is Levi.”
Mary, “Put Dr. W on the phone RIGHT NOW.”
Levi, “Mary, do you know who you are talking to?”
Mary, “Yes, I do. You are TPMidge’s neighbors. Now, put Dr. W on the phone right now.”
Levi, “Mary, Dr. W. is not here. This is not his office. This is my house.”
Mary,”Oh, well tell Dr W that I sent him a payment” and she hangs up.

Oh, but it gets better, kiddos

Next day, phone rings at Levi’s.

Mary “I’m coming to clean today.”
Levi, “No, you are not. I haven’t even hired you yet.”
Mary, “Yes, you did! I wrote it in my book. Monday 9:00. Clean @ Levi’s”.
Levi (trying to calm Mary) “Mary, there must have been a misunderstanding. I didn’t ell you to come and clean my house. You are wrong.”
Mary, “Are YOU calling ME a Liar? I’m gonna come and whoop your ass!”
Levi, “Mary, if you are planning on an ass-whooping, you better pack a lunch, girl. Cuz it’s gonna be an all day event”.
Mary, “OK, then. I’m just gonna come over there and run my car thru your door”.
Levi decided to mess with Mary’s head…. “Yeah, well I’m gonna get Dr W to come to the phone right now!”

Mary….hangs up

So, Levi does get on the phone and call Dr. W and tells him what Mary has done.
See, it turns out that Levi does know Dr W because they use to be neighbors. ALthough, she has NEVER told Mary this. Levi tells Dr W that she knows that he is not allowed to discuss patients but wants to know from him if Mary is dangerous.
Dr. W says, “Don’t worry about it, Levi. Mary is harmless. By the time she gets in her car, she will have forgotten what she is going to go do anyway.” (Could this be in part because of the exhorbant number of pills that he has her on?)

Yesterday, Mary calls TPMidge and tells her that she can’t come to clean today. Seems she has come down with “bipolar in the chest” (her exact words)!!!!!

TPMidge is going to fire Mary as soon as she changes her phone number, her door locks, her mailing address, and maybe, hires a security guard.

There really is SOMETHING ABOUT MARY!

since I first posted this, Dr W has passed away. I wonder how long it took someone to figure out that he had not just fallen asleep.

God, help me…I’m up to my eyeballs…..

 in boar meat!!!!!!! That’s “boar” as in wild swine not “bore/boor” as in “you are putting me into a trance by boring me”.

My DH decided to go boar hunting with my SIL. My SIL had made reservations at a game hunting what-ever-you-call-it place. It cost 100 bucks each just to reserve a spot. Then, they had to pay more if they shot a boar. I was told that it would be 100 bucks a boar. So, I thought, “What the hell. It’s worth a hundred bucks to get him out of my hair all day Saturday.” And, since he had NEVER been hunting in his entire life, I figured his chances of shooting anything but his own foot was pretty slim.

So, at 4 am this morning, I am awaken by DH getting ready for his big manly, hunting trip. He never has consideration for things like that. Instead of trying to be quite and let me sleep, he makes more noise than a crowd cheering at a Speical Olympics. He finally left but by then I was wide awake.

The gods are not smiling on me favorably today at all. You know, one of those days when every little thing that can go wrong does do wrong.  I lay down around 6:30pm.  to see if I could sneak in a quick nap. At 6:40, I hear the door open and “ye great, mighty white hunter” had returned from slaying the beasts.

Now, I had been told by my SIL, that the rate of boar kill around here was extremely low. So, considering that and the fact that DH has NEVER gone hunting before, I was ready to hear him complaining about stomping around the woods in the rain all day. But, instead, he was in an unusually good mood. Ye brave and mighty warrior had killed TWO boars. So, OK……$300 bucks….or so I thought.
I ask him where the swine were and he said that he had dropped them off at a butcher shop on the way home. So, I asked him how much that was going to cost and he said $50 an animal. Now the total is up to $400.00, or so I thought.
Upon further questioning, I learned that the cost of each boar was actually $350.00….a total of $700.00.

Seven hundred bucks plus the reserve fee plus the butcher comes to…..hmmmm…..holy f****** moly……$900!!!!!!!!

AND, it turns out that we are the proud owners of  THREE HUNDRED POUNDS OF BOAR MEAT!!!!! Here, you are probably think….no big deal…..freeze it. Right?
But, here’s the kicker, DH doesn’t eat pork and I refuse to eat any meat that doesn’t come from the grocery store already packed in plastic and stamped with the price per pound on it.

So, WHAT THE HELL am I gonna do with three hundred pounds of wild pig meat???????????????????????????????? Merry Christmas to all my friends here. Be looking for the UPS truck to deliver you a freeze dried package of wild pig. Hoping my in-laws are gonna enjoy their present openings on Christmas eve. It’s WILD BOAR for all this year.

I’m just wondering if boar penis will sell on ebay. Maybe, I can find a pattern for boar testicle wallets or sumptin’? I’ve seen bull testicle change purses on eBay. Ooh ooh….idea…..a boar head hat. That wouldn’t work since it would deny MWH the chance to mount the ugly thing.

I wonder if I can make it taste like chicken? 

This post was written several months ago. I decided to repost it because……IT’S TIME FOR THE HUNTIN’ TO BEGIN AGAIN!

I just finally got rid of the last of that nasty boar meat. Don’t worry, you who are against killing for sport (even though that is why SIL and TPKen went boar huntin’). I have managed to give away boar meat to relatives and friends. We donated a large part of it to the Boy Scouts of America for the annual wild game dinner.

Also, I have been able to uncover the real story of the boar hunt. Boars are ugly critters and can be downright nasty.Those ugly tusks can do some major damage to anything that they decide to attack.

So, I was little leery of  the Mighty White Hunter and Little Buddy  (you’ll find out why I’m referring to them by those names near the end of the post. Listen to the video) heading out with plans of shooting those ugly, demon-possessed swines.

When MWH and LB came back without any major tusk-inflicted gashes or wounds, I was pretty much in awe. However, the awe soon diminished when the real story of how MWH had shot at least one of his boars. Here’s the real account….

MWH spotted a boar and got his gun at the ready to shoot. And, shoot he did! But, he barely grazed the boar’s shank. Well, this only served to really piss off the boar. And, that’s when the boar charged him. MWH is no sharp shooter but he’s not a novice either. He quickly grabbed a gun from Little Buddy and aimed again. But, by this time, the boar was upon him….literally. MWH soon realized that the boar was heading straight for his family jewels and he quickly reacted by spreading his legs, hoping the boar would go thru them. And, it did! But not before MWH got off a shot at it. He hit it right in the ass. His Levis were proof of that. Both inner legs of the jeans were covered in blood from right below the crotch to the hem. I had a picture of the Levis that I kept for a long time but deleted it. Wish I hadn’t so y’all could see those Levis.  I sure got some good laughs at them. Of course, MWH was as appreciative of the “boar straddling” incident’s comedy value as I was.

Below is a video from youtube. It is a song that the Original Crazy Dave recorded for me as a gift to MWH.  For some reason, MWH just didn’t appreciate the video, either.

But, then, I don’t fully appreciate a mounted boar head on a wall. He wanted to put it in our family room. No way! Only after I threatened to dress it up for holidays did he take it upstairs to his office. A Santa boar or Easter bunny boar didn’t appeal to him.

Ya know, it might have been fun putting some bold red lipstick and a peal necklace on that pig. It would have been really funny if I could have somehow recorded  different greetings coming from the mouth. How festive it could have been for my visitors to be wished “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” or “HAPPY NEW YEAR” from the mouth of that thing. Kinda like a bigger and uglier version of that Billy Bass fish that was the rage a few years ago.

Or, ooooh, even better, have a small camera mounted inside it’s mouth. Poop…now I wish I had let him hang it in the hall!

Those of you who are seriously devout, say a prayer that he misses with every shot this year. But, just in case he does shoot another boar in the ass, I’ve already come up with at least 100 ideas of fun to have with the head.

Also, I want to clear this up…….I didn’t end up with 300 lbs of boar meat. That is how much the boars weighed before being butchered at the shop. I think that we actually ended up with around 85 lbs.

And, I need to take this chance to promote The Original Crazy Dave. Y’all might remember that I posted about him a little while back. Dave is a really nice and talented guy. He will either write a song about whatever subject you want or he will take your words and put them to music. This is really a great Christmas or birthday gift. Dave has done 3 songs for me and 2 for TPSkipper. His charges are extremely reasonable. This would be a great time to contact him if you would like a song done. It would give you or him over 3 months to come up with words and lyrics. He does serious and silly songs. Dave goes out of  his way to please. In case you are wondering, I am not kin to Dave and do not get any type of kickback or pay from Dave. I just think that what he does is unique and wonderful. Heere’s his contact info if you are interested: orders@easydinar.com or daviddubowski@yahoo.com.

I am also using a new blog tool……http://blogitti.blogiche.com/

This is a post that I wrote in a forum a while back. I do not write  there any longer and am moving some posts to this blog.

Also, I’m having a problem with my keyboard. If te letters h,u,t,i,g,n, l or b are left out of a word, fil tem in for yourself. I tried to correct tem al but fially gave up.

. You can’t see me!!!!!

 

The last 48 hours have been pure hell. Insomnia not only rearing it’s ugly head…..I think it’s about to eat me alive. Nerves feeliglike rubber bands being stretched to the break point. My whole body system seems to be singing a song called, “Kill me now and get this show on the road.” LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of stress, which is aggravating my fybro and arthritis. I’ve take an insane amount of Motrin, Alleve, and Tylenol. Probably have major stomach rot by now.(Or, is that my belly button that I smell?……DOES YOUR BELLY BUTTON STINK? HeeHee…can’t pass up a chance to pimp another post. Actually, the 2nd most read post since I started my blog. Some of the comments are unbelievable).

TrailerparkKen has not been feeling well for some time. But, he refuses to go see a doctor. Why are men like that? Women, on the other hand, will go to find out what is wrong.. And, eventhough, I biotch about him a LOT in my blog, I am still concerned about his well-beig.. His blood pressure is 230/139….stroke area. I could not get him to go to the doc last night. He went today but his doctor was not there so he just turned around and came home. He refused to see the phys. assistant. One of the corners of his eye is blood red.
Now, keep in mind, we live out in the booger woods. If something should happen, it would take 911 the better part of a week to find us.

So, strung out like a junkie in withdrawal, I stayed awake last night almost all night. At 3 oclock this morning, I saw a car headlights in my driveway. The driveway is severalhundred feet long. Probably more than that. I’m not good at measurements. Never have been since I found out that there is a major discrecpacy between what a man consider 6 inches to me and what a woman KNOWS six inches is.  Anyway the car pulls up pretty close to the house with the headlights glaring into my dark/lights off  kitchen.
My first instinct is to go wake TPKen. But, then common sense took over and I realized that a sudden, abrupt awakening might cause something bad to happen to him. So, I realize that I’m on my own and it’s up to me to guard “my castle”.

 I crept up to the window and took a hiding place behind a ficus tree. I watch for a few minutes trying to figure out who  has coming calling at 3 in the morning. My mind is racing…..”fight or flee” reactions kicks in. I run into the bedroom to get the gun only to discover that TPK has removed the smaller Lady Smith and Wesson that I usually keep handy. It’s a very nice size 38 with “girly designs” and pearl inlay on the handle. Cute but deadly. In it’s place, he has laid his humongous handgun that has a 12 inch barrell. It’s a speical edition and it’s shell cost 5 bucks each. That gun is so heavy that an old west gunslinger would look like the Hunchback of NotreDame is he had it in his belt holster. This gun caused quite an argument between myself and TPKwhen he purchased it. I mean….why would you need a gun so heavy that you’d almost have to prop it up on a stool to even fire it. That is one damn heavy piece of metal and it was hard for me to even try to aim it. Well, at least he finally came to his senses about the $7,000 armour piercing monster gun that he had planned to buy. I think he realized that a judge would findthat grounds for D-I-V-O-R-C-E even in this gun crazy, redneck state.

S0, after pausing for just a sec, I know that if I’m gonna need a weapon, it’s gonna have to be that big-ass gun that was laying where my pretty, little S&W should have been.

Here I was….taking cover behind a fake fiscs tree and using all my arm and shoulder strength to hold that gigantic gun. I’m  begining to have serious doubts whether I can even aim and shoot it in the right direction. But, being a big, ol redneck woman (and proud member of the NRA), I knew that I had to do what I had to do. So, keeping the lights off so as not to be an easy target for the gangsta outside), stumbled up the hall and found the phone…..ready to call 911 if necessary.

I took my position behind the ficus again and started watching. The car had not moved. I was sitting in the same spot. So, I started watching again to see if anybody got out. The headlights were still on and the motor was running. I decided to creep across to the front door and peep out. My front door is one of those with frosted glass that has a few clear “peepholes”. When I got in my ready to stop, drop and shoot position there, I looked out and saw that the car and turned around and was heading out. I caught myself breathing a big sigh of relief.

 BUT, then the car stopped at the end of the driveway. So, I caught myself totally tensing up again. A few minutes later it drove off. This morning, TPK went out to get the newspaper. Turns out that it was the newspaper man (at 3 in the  morning) pullig up our paper box and moving it out to the end of the road……which totally enraged TPK. They have been feuding about the location of the paper box for a few days now.

What bothers me is that I have been so edgy and ready to fight, that I could have honestly shot the paper guy. But for the grace of God, I am here writing this tonight instead of in the “big house”.

When I start getting really stressed, I start getting really angry. I find myself looking for a fight from just about anyone over anything. This is one of the most dangerous phases of my BP. Out of medicine and not have a pdoc appt for 9 weeks I decided that I had to do something PDQ. Andwith tail tucked between my legs, I visited a local “Express Care” office right now the road from me. I was straight up and frank with the doc. I told her that I was at the breaking point and needed help and need it immediately. I told her that if she refused to prescribe me something for pain, stress, andsleep, that I was going to go find some street drugs. And I was damn dead serious.  And, I began to cry.

The last time that I got to a breaking point like this, it triggered one of the worst manic periods that I had in years. ple. This was the manic period when I came to a dead stop in the middle of the road because a two-toothed, shot gun racked, 4X 4 four wheel truck driving redneck was following me too close. I threated to kick his ass…..all 5′2″ of me up against his 6′plus frame. Could have gotten into some serious shit there until HE actually back down. Must have been smart enough underneath that skullet to know that he was dealing with a  deranged woman.

 I was slightly apprehensive that she would just think that I was a doctor shopper for drugs. But, she turned out to be very sympathetic. I got some arthritis med, some Xanax, and 12 Ambien. So, right now, I am in a thankfully pleasantly sedated

The bad part about that is that I have been trying to wean myself off all psych drugs for a few months now. This is a major setback to that. But, at least I won’t be in the pokey trading ciggies for half eaten balogna sandwiches with a skullet-wearig butch named Teensey

 So….at this point in time, I’ll feed the sweet, siren song of the drugs. Otherwise, I might have to hone a insanity defense, which would probaly be totally true.

****This post was originally written about 3 yrs ago. No big emotional flare-ups since. Only bouts of depression ranging from mild to almost “ready to go see Mama”.

Still trying to catch up with stuff going on around here. So, I’m bringing out another old post from my first blog (on a private forum).  Sadly, I have to admit that it’s really true. You’d think that I’d be too embarrassed to admit some of this stuff but my need of being the center of attention over-rides my humility. Besides, if I can’t laugh at myself than I don’t have the right to laugh at anybody else. So, here goes……

 I had an appt today with a dermatologist. I thought my skin was looking tired and old. She suggested the newest treated for wrinkles, spots, acne, etc. It is called ALA-PDT. It uses short contact photo-dynamic therapy and 5-aminolevulinic acid.

In plain words, that means they paint an acid compound on your face and then you come back in two hours and set under a blue light for fifteen minutes.In a nutshell, you get your face burnt off so you have to grow new skin cells.

As soon as she starting painting me, I immediately knew that I was not going to like this. It kinda burned and tingled.  I should have listened to the little voice in my head that was saying, “Are you nuts? This is painful. RUN! RUN! RUN!” But, of course, I didn’t do that.She finished and  I had to leave for a couple of hours and then go back. While I gone, I figured that I’d just run on over to Wal Mart and pick up a few things.

While in WM, my face started itching so much,that I thought I would go completely mad. That was the worst itch I have ever had. So, since I had gunk painted all over my face and was itching so badly, I wanted out of there. So, I paid for my stuff and got to my car only to find out that I HAD LOCK MY DAMN KEYS in the car!!!!!

I hurried back into WM and ran right into the manager. Here I was with gunk painted all over my face and needing assistance. He turned out to be an exceptionally nice person. As luck would have it, he happened to own one of those Slim Jim tools. You know….the straight bar thingy that is inserted between the window and the lock. He went out to my car with me and tried to jimmy the lock but he had no luck car open with his slim jim. As I stated, he really was a very nice guy and wanted to help me. So he went across town to dealership and took my VIN number and they actually made a new key for him!!! Let me state here that they are not suppose to do that. He just happened to have a friend “on the inside” of the dealership.

I manged to stop scratching my face long enough to give him a big hug. My hero, Of course, he probably didn’t want a hug from a woman with stuff that looked like grey toothpaste  all over her face. Not to mention that I had begun to smell like chemicals from a paper-mill or worse.

Finally, I got back in my car and went to the doc office.You have to sit under the blue light for 15 straight minutes. My face was really starting to itch again, and HURT!!!

After what seemed like a prolonged period in Hell’s hottest room, I was done,and went straight home. My face is blood red. It looks like I’ve been skinned alive.I’m not exaggerating. 

It will hurt for at least 48 hours. Then the good part starts. All of the skin on my face will peel off. That did not really sounds so bad at the time. But, now I’m wondering if I can take it that long. I’m itching! OMG! I feel like somebody has thrown some of that prank itching powder on me.

I wrote the above about an hour ago.

I’m afraid to look in the mirror now. I’m thinking that I look like Mel Gibson in The Man Without A Face. 

45 minutes later……

Oh shit! Why did I go and look in that damn mirror?????  I sure hope no one shows up here without warning. It would scare the crap out of them. I just know that it would. Sure hope that Jehovah’s Witness lady doesn’t decide that I need more Watch Towers today. I wonder if the JW could sue me for wrongful death? Just had a thought…..what if she thinks that I’m possessed or something?

It’s been 3 hours now.

I have discovered that putting ice on my face is not a good idea. Wherever I put the ice, the area around it seems to itch even more. Why did I do this? Wrinkles are not thaaaat bad.  I now know the meaning of “one hot mess”.

4 hours…..My eyes are swollen. This is almost as bad as the permanent eyebrow tattooing that I got (that faded after a few months). Then, I looked like John L. Lewis. Now, I look like Freddie Kruger.

It’s been 6 hours. I’m dying. Yes, that’s it. I must be allergic to whatever that crap that she put on my face is. Maybe, I should call 9-1-1. What would I tell them (if I could even stand to hold the phone near my face)?

“phone rings”   “911 What’s your emergency?”

Me….”My face is melting! Send an ambulance…….and an ice mask…..one that will cover my entire face!”

This is so sad. I’m so vain that I will let an unverified woman who claims to be a dermatologist put what is apparently acid on my face! I should have checked her credentials. Now, here I am….face on fire and wondering whether to go to the ER.

This had sooooo better be worth it!

Well, it was not worth it. When I went back for a checkup, I was informed that it takes THREE treatments for this to work. I’m ashamed to admit that I actually went for the second treatment. But, I just couldn’t make myself go for the third. So, here I am…….still wrinkled.

A few days ago, I was in Steak Escape to grab some lunch. It turned out to be crappy because they overcooked the meat to the point of eating leather. But, that’s neither here nor there as far as this post goes.

I was at the soda machine filling up one of those giganticbigass family size cups with Diet Coke when I heard, “Hey, I thought that was you! Girl, where ya been?”
I turned around and it was a girl that I had met several years ago. She worked at one of my favorite shopping in order to hoard the crap places and we just began talking whenever I went in (which was a helluva lot). Then, I worked at a jewelry store a couple of Christmas’ (to support my then habit of buying and giving away jewelry) and she became a regular customer.

Fern is a very intelligent, highly motivated college graduate who keeps seeming to hit brick walls when it comes to employment. She majored in business and computers and is now working at a low-bucks Sav-A-Lot grocery store. She admits that it might partly have to do with her poor choice in male friends, too. I hope that one day she’ll find a guy who will treat her well.

Fern has always enjoyed the better things in life despite her low or sometimes  total lack of income. Name brands, nice cars (nice Caddy), etc. So, it was not shocking to see her dressed to the nines and wearing lots of bling. I noticed a really cute red purse that she was carrying and was looking it over. As I turned it around, I said “What brand is this?”  She said,”Girl, what do you think? It’s Prada”.I love Fern to death but I think that purse was probably Parda…in other words FAKE. But, it was cute anyway.

Now, here is where it goes haywire. I have a terrible habit of imitating the speech habits….cadence, slang, etc. of whoever I’m talking with. Don’t mean to, just happens. Like another person has suddenly taken control of my vocal cords and mouth.

We’ve all had one (or in my case, many) of those moments when as soon as words leave your pie-hole, you wish with everything that was in you, you could suck ‘em back down? Well, that’s what happened.

Here’s what came out of my mouth when she said Prada:

“Niggah, pluuuuuuuzzzzzeeeee. Prada????”

OMG!!!! I don’t even know where that came from. It was like Wanda Sykes had hijacked my brain. Damn Sam in a Pepsi can!!!!!! WTF????? Here I am, whiter than a bleach alternative….German and Scotch ancestors…..we are talking TOTAL WHITEY here. More CRACKER than a box of Keebler’s saltines. I make Casper the Ghost look like he’s been lying in the hot Miami sun . And,  I swear I am not prejudice. Fern is one among many of my friends from different races and ethnicity. Fern looked at me like I had lost total control of my bowels and was taking a crap right  in the middle of The Steak Escape. It took both of us a minute to regain our composure. Slapmenowslapmenowslapmenowslapmenow!!!!!

I might also want to mention here that Fern could break me into, snapped like a twig in around 2 seconds time. She is a BEAST! I’m talking super-strong. Fern looks like a female version of Samuel L. Jackson. I’m always expecting to hear,

 “I’ve had it with these motherfuckin’ snakes on this motherfuckin’ plane!

Thank goodness, she knew that I am not racist or mean spirited. After an awkward 30 second silence, she (bless her heart) burst out laughing. She said, “Girl, you been listening to too much of that rap shit!”

I started to apologize but she stopped me and said that was the best laugh that she’d had in a while. Thank you, Fern, for your great sense of humor and especially for not considering kicking my ass right there in the Steak Escape.

So, today’s warm and freshly baked, warm and gooey shitcake goes to…..ME!

I just saw this and thought it was worth sharing…..

Sweet Deal: Teen Charged In Huge Candy Order

I can’t help wondering what he was going to do with all that candy?

By Associated Press

NBC 4

updated 3:15 p.m. ET, Tues., Feb. 10, 2009

MIDDLETOWN, Ohio – Police say an Ohio teenager tried to pull off a sweet deal, ordering more than $37,000 of candy online and charging it to his former high school.

Police say 18-year-old Jad Holmes used a purchasing number from Middletown High School to order thousands of lollipops and candy bars from Michigan-based The Goodies Factory. It wasn’t clear how he accessed the number.

The candy company became suspicious, contacted the school and was told by detectives to send an empty box.

Police say Holmes was arrested after the fake delivery to his home.

Holmes faces two counts of felony telecommunications fraud. He was being held in Middletown City Jail on more than $30,000 bond.

 

 

Also, speaking of dumb….

13 Year Old Daddy    That boy looks like he might have graduated to Pull Ups!

edited 2/19/09 I just saw on a cable news shows that Alfie, the 13 yr old is probably not the father of this baby. THANK GOODNESS! Seems that his 15 yr old sweetie was sleeping with 5 boys at the time that she conceived. One of the boys was Alfie’s older brother. Alfie’s and baby mama’s parents put their heads together and decided to name Alfie as the father. Why? Money, of course. They knew that pics of  pint-sized Alfie with the baby would bring money from the tabloids. They are real pieces of work! I feel sorry for the baby.

I am in a tired stupor today. I started a post about a proposal from one of our thinking lawmakers. It’s a rare thing in West By Golly Stand Up and Holler Virginia to actually have a delegate who uses his gray matter before opening his mouth or voting on legislature. However, my brain is in a stupor today, too. So, I’ll save that until another day. In the meantime, check out this link so you’ll be prepared to either agree with me or rebut me.

NotWithMyTaxDollar  Now, go and check it out. Very interesting.

In lieu of a “thinking” post, I’m gonna just tell you what all took place this weekend in My Boogerwoods.

The local United States post office seems to generate a lot of good stories for me.  There was the time that I was not paying attention and put my outgoing mail into a Lion’s Club container that looked like the mailbox. And, it was sitting right by the real mailbox. But, it was a container to drop off old glasses for redistribution by the Lion’s Club. Let me tell ya….it turned into a major headache. No one at the post office knew who had the key to that box. I had to go through the phone book and find out which Lion’s Club was responsible for that container. It took 3 days before I could get in contact with the Grand Poop-pah or whatever is the title. It took another 2 days for him to get time to go unlock the box and get my mail out. However, he was kind enough to stick it in the real mailbox for me and saved me a trip back to the post office.

Then there was the time that I had a bunch of bills to mail. I jumped out of my car with my mail in one hand and a diet Coke in the other.I was planning on throwing my mail in the box and running into the bread/pastry store next door. Now, I’ll admit that I’m not real co-ordinated.One of my neighbors hollered at me as she was pulling out of the parking lot and I carelessly stuck the arm with the diet Coke in the box. I realized what I had done just about 1 1/2 seconds too late. A delayed reflex caused me to try to grab the Coke before it hit all of the paper and mail in the box, thereby ruining  it. In a state of panic, I jammed my arm too far in the box and somehow got it stuck. The lid/trap door opening had partially closed and wouldn’t budge. I don’t know if a hinge had broken, a screw had rusted, or an arm-grabbing  troll was residing in the box. But, somehow, I was unable to pull my arm out. I still to this very day can’t figure out what had come loose, broken, or whatever in the box. This was the freakiest freak accident that I could ever remember starring me. Think of the kids who climb in the quarter toy machines and then can’t get out. That’s what it was like. I found myself in a seemingly impossible predicament. To make matters worse, I was on my tip-toes. There I was, arm in box and having to stand on tip-toes in order to not injure myself. 

I believe in angels. And, one came along within less than a minute. I’m sure that it had to have been less than a minute even though it seemed like much longer. This angel came in the form of a tiny little old guy with the sweetest face.

“Are ya stuck, honey,” he asked me.

“Sure am”, I replied. “Got any ideas how I can get my arm out without twisting it off?”

“Yep, I do” he said. And, without another word, he went back to his car and got some things out. I could see that he had one of those long poled snow cleaners. The ones that you can reach on top of your car and knock off the snow. And, in his other hand he had….a tub of butter.

What or earth? BUTTER and a pole? I briefly wondered if he was some kind of sicko who wanted to torture me while I was stuck. Shame on me, though! My elderly hero calmly butter up the pole and stuck it in the box. Then, he proceeded to rub the buttered pole all over my arm and as far down my hand as he could see. Then, he got more butter and repeated it. I remember just wondering why was he carrying around a tub of butter. As he was buttering me up, he told me that he had just come from the grocery store. I swear you would have thought this kind of stuff happened every day in his life. He never batted an eye or made any comments about how stupid I was to get myself in that situation. That’s why I think that he made have been an angel.

With the butter as a lubricant, I slowly moved and turned my arm until I felt it sliding right back up and out of the mail slot/opening.  I had a couple of scratches which were probably from screws that had rusted from somebody else’s diet Coke.To this day, that little old guy is one of my heroes. And, I hope that if he really was an angel, he won’t tattled to the Big Guy about the words I was saying when he first saw me. This incident was right up there with the time that I got stuck under my bed and the time that I got stuck in my garage.  Everyone has a talent and I do believe mine is getting stuck in places or things. And, I am damn good at it, too!

This weekend, I found out that my local postmaster is getting married!  My local postmaster is truly one of the nicest people that I have ever met. But, he’s had a real history of bad marriages. His first wife and I went to school together. Nice girl, but excessively hairy. No joke. She looked like she was wearing  mohair  long johns all year long. His second wife was a nice looking blond. Not sure what happened there.
Now, he is getting married again. His bride-to-be is named Velda Lou. R, the postmaster, is not a bad looking guy. He has a great sense of humor, too. His biggest drawback…..he’s the size of Gary Coleman. So, I refer to him as my pocket postman.
His soon to be bride is about 6 foot tall. She looks like a man with that long hair preferred by some religious sects. Oh, yeah, she wears culottes (no, not clam diggers, not 3/4 length pants)……real old fashioned culottes that she sews herself.

This is what kept running thru my head all afternoon…….Veldo Lou, the Culotte Wearing Vixen and the Pocket Postmaster. What a great title for a book!!!!!! Or, low-budget movie.

So, congrats to R and V. Hope you live happily ever after.

Last night, I went to see the movie, The Wrestler. I really enjoyed it.  I thought that I might have a hard time concentrating on the storyline due to the plastic surgery that Mickey Rourke had. But, that was not the case. Rourke was excellent in this movie and in a few short minutes, I had completely blocked the picture of Rourke in 9 1/2 Weeks with Kim Basinger.

 

It was a completely different Mickey on the screen…….

MR was totally immersed in his character, Randy The Ram. And,  Marisa Tomei played a character so believable that I was not a bit shocked at her stripper’s nudity. She plays “Cassity” who is pretty much over-the-hill in age for a  stripper. “Cassity” is really Pam, a single mom trying to earn a living in a sleazy strip joint.

OK…no more about the movie. You gotta go see it!

I’m sure that part of my enjoyment of the movie came from the fact that my aunts and my mom were “rasslin’ fanatics”. I’ve written posts about this craziness. You might remember my aunt who moved from WV to Charlotte, NC in order to stalk her fav wrestlers, Rick  Flair and Randy Savage. Her daughter was totally infatuated with Leapin’ Lannie. Then there was my other aunt who attacked a wrestler named Pistol Pez after a match in which he hit her fav wrestler with a chair. She began to beat him around the neck and head with her purse. It was ugly. Security was called. I know this because I was the one who drove her and my Mom to the National Guard armory to watch the matches. I did not like going to these events but I did love my Mama and would take her when she wanted to go.

Yesterday morning, we saw our first bear track of the season. It seems a little early for the black bears to be roaming and I was a little skeptical when TrailerParkKen told me that he had spotted it. But, sure enough, it was a bear track. I’ve gotta sorta use to wild critters roaming around my house. I’ve learned to be observant and cautious when going outside, especially during the summer. I’m still a little afraid of the beastsbut have learned to not panic. The worse scare that I’ve had so far was not even from a bear. It was from a big-ass turkey. I wrote a post about that incident a while back. Here I was…..minding my own business, using the bathroom (really minding my business), when I heard loud, hard knocks coming from somewhere. I quickly pulled up my jeans and went to see what the heck was causing the racket. It was a really big-ass turkey knocking on the glass door of the family room. I tried scaring him away but he was determined to come into the house. That monster bird was pecking the glass so hard that I was sure he would break it. Finally, I started throwing stuff at the glass door and he finally waddled away.

So, that’s it……another adventurous weekend in The Boogerwoods!

I’ve been really, really busy lately. I’ve neglected my blog and my blogging buddies. I apologize to all of you for coming around to your blogs lately. I promise to try to catch up as soon as I possibly can.

This is an older post from another blog that I once had. The blog was a private blog so few people have read it. I’ve decided to share it here with y’all. My blogging friends and regular readers already know that I have some really dysfun (funny)ctional people in my family. This story is just about another one of them.

Cleaning out some stuff in the closet today, I came across some old newspaper clippings that I had kept for one reason or another.

One article was about a murder in a nearby county. Three men had taken another man up into the backwoods and tortured him. It just so happened that those backwoods bordered my aunt’s property. The guys eventually killed the guy. No one knew what happened to him. He was missing and that’s all the law enforcement knew. One day, my aunt, who spent a lot of her time outside in her garden, saw her dog gnawing on something that looked like an animal part. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that it was a human leg. (Yes, that is true.)It was identified as the leg of the missing man. This resulted in law enforcement finding out all the rest of the details.
That’s the awful part of the story. But, take heed, there is always something funny when it comes to my family.

First, my aunt was getting senile. She thought her name was Maude Aimee (which it wasn’t). And she thought she was married to Jack VanImpe, the popular televangelist.
So, I think that you can get the pic that she wasn’t just “right” in the head.

The trial of the men came up and of course, she was called as a witness. Poor “Maude Aimee”. She was really backwoods and therefore, totally at lost in the courtroom.

It came her turn for the witness stand. She got up there. The DA asked her if she had found the man’s leg. She verified that she did. Then, he asked her if she had found any other body parts. Here we go………

She looked at him sternly and said, “I ain’t had time to go looking fer no man’s parts. I been busier than a whore in a c** swallowing contest.”

Oh lordy!!!!!  My aunt would have never, ever have talked liked this before she started her transition into “Maude Aimee”.

Then, she said that maybe they should ask her husband. The DA looked confused because he knew that she had been widowed years before. So, he said, “Mrs. A, did you get remarried?”

My aunt looked shocked and said,

The DA said, “I thought your husband died several years back.”
She said, “Hell no, my husband was just on TV this morning. And, you listen here….you’d better start living right before it’s too late for your soul”.

A recess was called and the DA questioned “Maude Aimee” a bit.  That’s when she told him that her husband was the televangelist, Jack VanImpe. The DA had to strike most of her testimony, even though she was an important part of the case. The DA did, thankfully, manage to get a conviction, though.

The last time that we went to see her was to tell her about my mom’s death. Bless her heart, she didn’t even remember who we  OR  my mom  OR  her brother was.

She died a few years ago. But, that woman gave me one of the best laughs of my life. God rest her soul.

“edited to add”…… Heather posted a correction. Jack VanImpe’s wife is not Maude Aimee in real life. Maude Aimee is/was the wife of Rex Humbard, another televangelist. Maybe, my aunt was even more mixed up than we realized as she insisted her name was Maude Aimee and her husband was JVI.

I’m still cleaning out my other blog. It was on a forum and I was pretty lax about spelling, grammar, and what-not .Well, actually, I still am negligent about a lot of that stuff.

This is another post from that blog. In it’s original post, it was a continuation of a previous post. I’ve tweaked it a bit and hope that it will make sense standing alone.

I’ve got recent stuff to write about but it seems like my life has been really hectic lately. And I just don’t have the time to write about current stuff. Is it just me or do you guys find that technology such as computers, new cameras, and all that crap is making your life more complicated?  I have more things but less time to do anything with them.

Oh well….on with the Barbie freak show……

As some of you know, I love auctions and go a couple of times a month. I’ve been doing it for about 2 years now. I’ve gotten some really neat stuff. But, it hit me tonight at the auction that I’ve gotten more than that out of it. I have became pretty good friends with some fairly elderly men there. Nothing sexual. Let’s get that straight right up front. These guys make me laugh more than almost anyone in the world. They are great storytellers. They rib each other in the rawest ways. They tell stuff on each other. I’m glad that I have met each and every one of them.

One of the oldest guys, Mr. Lilly, is in his 80’s. Tall and thin as a string bean. Weathered face with lots of interesting wrinkles and creases. Tonight he came in with something behind his back. He came over to me and told me he had me a present. Then he handed me a miniature, really old ceramic toilet. I had mentioned it once when it was up for auction. I thought it was odd and different. and I wanted it for my TrailerPark doll collection. They need to crap, too, ya know! He bought it for me!!!!! How thoughtful is that? I can now truthfully say that one of the sweetest things that has ever happened in my life was when a really old dude bought be a toilet at an auction.

A little while back, another of the ODP (old dude posse) came to the auction bearing a gift for me. It was an old urine sample bottle. LMAO He knows that I love collecting unusual and weird things. It is sitting on my shelf in my office right along with the miniature dollhouse commode.

One of my other old guy friends is Mr. Persinger, whom I call “Percy”. He has a wooden leg.  Percy got shot in the leg by a jealous husband back in his younger days. The guy suspected his wife was cheating with Percy and started spying on his wife. One night, his suspicion was validated. He caught Percy and his wife doing the dirty deed right in his own bed. Percy was a real ladies’ man in his prime.

Tonight he came in and was walking really funny, kinda swaying back and forth. He sat down next to me and I asked him what was wrong. He said, “I put my g**damned leg on backwards!” He sat there and switched it around. 

But, my very favorite is Kirk. He is the sweetest man that I have ever met. Kirk is close to 70 and owns an antique shop. Whenever I want to, I go to his shop and he lets me pick out anything that I want. I sell it on eBay for him and he gives me HALF the money. He doesn’t even take out his original cost. And, if there is something that I have my eye on personally, he always tries to give it to me.

 Tonight,Kirk was telling a tale about him, Percy, and this other guy. They went to an auction a couple of nights ago and took one of those remote control fart machines. They set it under a cushion in an empty seat between two older women. Every once in a while, they’d hit the button and……frrrrrrtttttt! He said that the two women kept stealing looks at each other. Each thought the other one was farting! Finally, one said something about it to the other one…..about it being rude and tasteless to do that in public. The second one said, “I thought it was you!’
Meanwhile, Kirk and the Old Dude Posse’ were sitting behind them cracking up. Then, just like little kids, they took it to a restaurant, where they randomly set it off.

I truly do love these old codgers. They let me share in all their stories, gags, everything. But, with the exception of Percy, these guys are true gentlemen. They never curse around me. I will overhear them talking amongst themselve and using lots of bad language. But, as soon as one of them spots me, not another curse word is spoken.

It’s pretty wonderful to me that I can feel so comfortable and fit in with these guys. Wish all my relationships could be this easy.

5-26-09 Since I wrote this, Percy died from cancer. He touched my life with his jokes, gags, and stories. I truly miss him.

I think that people write off old people. We become too busy to stop and listen to them. That’s a shame since they truly can enrich our lives. If you have an old person in your life, give them the re spect that they deserve. And, if you will just take a few minutes to listen to one of their stories, I swear you will not be sorry.

R.I.P Percy

Also, I quit going to auctions except for a rare occasion. My collecting things was getting out of hand. Plus, I found myself “mercy bidding” too often. That’s when the aucitoneer is working his ass off trying to get bids on wothless crap that nobody wanted. I’d end up bidding out of pity. After “pitty bidding” auctions, I’d stop and throw the stuff in a dumpster. This started added up to big-o bucks and I had to quit doing it. So, I don’t see my old posse dudes very often anymore. I sure do miss them a lot!

Another excerpt from my other blog…..

 

Today, my friend, the one that owns an antique store called me. He said that he had a man that wanted to sell an antique sapphire necklace. He wanted to know if I would go help him out and maybe, list it on ebay. He is so good to me that I agreed to to do it. I got the directions to the guy’s house and drove over there. Here’s how it went…..

Ring doorbell
80ish year old guy answers and wants to know who I am.
I tell him and he tells me to come in.
I ask him where the necklace is and he tells me it’s in a back room and he has to find it. So, fine. We go look for it. It turns out that this guy has a collection of EVERYTHING that he has EVER owned. Old newspapers, stuffed animals, CEREAL BOXES, every doo-dad know to man and much, much, much more.

So, he and I are looking thru stuff. About 15 minutes in to the search, I hear this….

“What are we looking for?”

Huh???????

“The necklace that you want me to sell for you.”

“Oh yeah. That’s right.”

Back to the search. About 10 more minutes pass and I hear…..

“What did you say we were looking for?”

OMG!!!!!

“Remember the sapphire necklace? The one you want me to put on Ebay?”

“Yeah. That’s right. It’s in here somewhere.”

Back to the search. And I swear on my granny’s grave, this is what I hear AGAIN….

“What am I looking for, again?”

Oh jeez….now what am I suppose to do? I’m in a strange 80 yr old man’s house and he’s obviously suffering from memory loss. So, I said……

“I don’t know what we’re looking for. Maybe, I had better come back when we figure it out.”

And he says….

“Well, what in the hell are you doing in here if you don’t know what you are looking for?”

This is where I ’bout lost it. The whole thing struck me as sooooo damn funny that I was almost in pain trying not to laugh.

I figured that I had to do something PDQ. So, I just told him that I had gotten a headache and needed to go to my car and get some Tylenol. And I did. Go to my car, that is. I did not get Tylenol.  I drove off. I got home and called my friend and told him what happened. I hung up on him when he wouldn’t quit laughing. I’m still not sure if he set me up or if the guy really had a necklace.

That old goat has a strange sense of humor. I’ll get him back some way. When he least expects it, I’ll do something!

For now, I’ll give him the shitcake award……

“Congratulations!

 

I’m confused. I’ve been trying to research and understand the stimulus plan put forth by the Obama administration. Finally, I found a clear and easily understood explanation. And, here it is:

I don’t know about y’all but this mammoth pile of papers that nobody has read scares me. I don’t feel like I/we are part of the decision making in our government any longer. What’s next?

Today’s piece of  whole freshly baked shitcake (with my famous mystery chocolate frosting) goes to all the Democrats and the chicken-shit Republicans that are voting for this mess.

 

“editing “just because I can…..ain’t free speech great?

A friend of mine pointed me to this great link where you, yes YOU, can apply for some of the stimulus money. Check it out……

I did and looky, looky at this……

Your request has been approved! CLICK HERE  to view your stimulus and to roam around in $800 billion worth of other giveaways. Your program is buried in Title III, Subtitle A.”

Now, don’t go thinking that’s is all easy as pie. Notice that mine was buried in Title III Subtitle A. I had to read a lot of baloney (some of it very wordyMcword) to get to the paydirt. Don’t give up if  your request is granted (and it will be). Wade thru the gobbilygook til you get to the money part.

Now, go on, y’all. Get your piece of the pie. Here’s the   FREE MONEY  to lead you to high-livin’, permanent vacation lifestyles. BE sure to post a nice thank-you to ReasonOnline who made my dream come true!

BTW….I applied for money to establish a research team for the study of lazy people’s habits.

One more thing…..don’t leak it to that Donna, the Socialist, who has been commenting. Of course, she’s probably too busy drinking the latest batch of kool-aid to notice this anyway.

edited again!…..I didn’t expect this post to cause so much controversy. There are already over 75 comments. The comments are worth reading if you would  like to see the difference in the way people think about the stimulus plan. Don’t hesitate to add your own comments on how you see the stimulus plan and it’s chance of working/not working. This is getting pretty interesting. So, jump on in……

TWO POSTS IN LESS THAN 15 MINUTES. What am I thinking? A good blogger should pace themselves. But, this is so funny that I couldn’t wait to share it with my blogging buddies.

 

There is really nothing funny when it comes to those babies. They are going to need all kinds of help….financial, physical, and definitely psychological. But, as far as I’m concerned, ol’ Swollen Lips is fair game to poke fun at.

Let’s all remember to pray for those innocent kids.

 

 

I’ve been totally jazzed up about my stimulus check!!!! In fact, I’ve been so excited that I crept down into the basement and borrowed one of my husband’s hammer. Had to be really quiet since he doesn’t like loaning out his tools. Thank goodness that I remember to stick it in the dishwasher and then wipe it down with alcohol wipes before I put it back. I have a sneakin’ suspicion that he can smell the scent of another human on his t ool equipment hammer. “Tool” and “equipment” could have been taken the wrong way. Not to say, that he can’t smell another human on his……oh boogers, you know what I mean.

Anyway, I borrowed the hammer to break my little pink piggy bank that says, “EMERGENCIES ONLY!” in big black letters on the sides.  However, I felt justified doing that since I’m gonna be able to replace the $13.00 that I took out just as soon as I get that big ol’ check at the United States Post Office!

Now, remember, regular readers (the number is almost in double digits now), I am a compulsive shopper. And, obsess about things that I could’ve/should’ve purchased when I was last in a department store. I’ve tried to reason with myself saying if I had wanted/needed it that badly, I would have bought it then. Never works. Never ever ever. It doesn’t work because I cannot fool myself. I, simply put, LOVE shopping. I know that it’s a quick-fix for whatever is going badly in life.  (fancy psycho babble…lol) And, most likely, I will never be able to totally overcome it. Oh well, could be worse. I shop clearance and sales thus avoiding spending huge amounts of money and losing my home. The money doesn’t really amount to all that much. It’s the time that I spend plus all the crap piling up sometimes that’s the problems.

Being the seasoned and serious consumer that I am, I didn’t let the 6 inches of snow (and bigass flakes still fallin’) stop me from hopping in my car and heading out. With visions of cash registers ringing, I headed to my favorite store. This store is a local chain and it has the best clearance sales in the whole country. We’re not talking Faded Glory or Tuff Skins stuff. We’re talking Lauren, Ann Taylor, Nike, and the like. I started sweating just thinking about all those $2 and $3 items. I could buy six $2 and have enough for tax or I could buy four $3 items and have the tax. I was trembling in anticipation.

That store was unusally crowded with the  roads were so slick and the snow  still falling. But, I’m pretty good at darting in and out of a crowd. Not braggin’, but you should see me on black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. If medals were given, I’d win the gold everytime. I’m the Michael Phelps of shopping except I’m not stupid enough to let anybody snap my picture with a bong. I do have a bong, though. No, I don’t use it. I bought it at an auction with other crap that I don’t use. It’s an original and probably dates back to the original hippie movement. Not that the bong has anything to do with this story, just thought I’d throw that in for the heck of it.

I browsed the store for a while and checked out the clearance racks in each and every department. That’s a big part of my problem. I don’t have any babies, extra-large men, or skinny teenagers who wear size zero. Nonetheless, I’m not satisfied until I look at everything.  The shoe department was a bonanza of bargains. This store marks stuff down to MOVE and there were lots of name brand shoes marked to just a few bucks. I found a pair of  Softees that were really cute. They were flats, black with a gold buckle. It sounds like I’m describing Pilgrim shoes but they were not like that. The shoes were marked down to THREE BUCKS and even though, they were one-half size too small….HEY! Who could pass up that deal? I figured that they might stretch after a few wears. Of course, my reasonable side was telling me that I had several pairs of shoes in my closet that were one-half size too small and they never stretched to fit. But, maybe, this one pair would. If not, they would go into one of the Goodwill boxes that I manage to make myself fill a few times a year.

I wandered over to the lingerie/pj department. I found a pair of pj’s that were a couple of sizes too big but they were only $4!!!!! Since they were all cotton, I thought that they may shrink a little in a hot wash. If not, they would go into the Goodwill box…….

Then, I spotted the marked down Valentine stuff! JACKPOT!!!! Boxes of candy marked 75% off ! Admittedly, it was the crappy left-over candy that nobody wants but I figured that I could freeze it and give it to somebody that wasn’t too choosy with their chocolates.

I looked at the clock over the doorway and realized that I had been in there much longer than I thought that I had. Two hours had passed and I hadn’t even checked the Big Man XXXXL stuff yet. Out of all the stuff that I just listed that I looked at or bought, the XXXL stuff makes the most sense. Usually, items in this size bring fairly good money on eBay. Except lately, eBay has been hit hard by the economy and most stuff either doesn’t sell or doesn’t make a profit if it does sell.  Common sense took over for once and I decided to bypass that department and go check-out.

As I said, this is a fairly small department store and it only has a total of six registers. In the many times that I have shopped there, I have never seen all 6 registers open at the same time. This day was no exception and only 3 registers were opened. And, all 3 had fairly long lines at them. I’m one of those people who will change registers everytime that I think one might be moving faster than the others. Of course, this is always a stupid move because just as soon as I get in another line, it stops moving. After changing register lines twice, I figured that I’d be just as well off staying at the one that I was currently in.

Stores put all kinds of stuff around the registers to entice us to buy while standing in line. Of course, I almost always fall for this type of marketing. But, this day, luckily, I couldn’t spot a darn thing that beckoned me to BUY BUY BUY! I resigned myself to just standing and waiting. Then, a man behind me started talking to me and since this is a good way to pass register-standing time, I talked back.

He was buying several pair of  black silk boxer shorts with Valentine’s hearts on them. Marked to $1.00, I noticed this with my trained “red-tagged/clearance sticker” trained eye. He was, also, buying some of those over-the-counter reading glasses…..the ones that are really just magnifyers. Those were marked to 25 cents each. I commented that I should buy some of those because I had spent several days going to optician’s places to get my new eye-prescription filled. I told him that the price of glasses had more than doubled since I had bought any. We start chit-chatting and I begin having this nagging feeling that I had met him somewhere before this day. Then it hit me! He reminded me of Leon Phelps, The Ladies Man. Leon is a character played by Tim Meadows and started as a skit on Saturday Nite Live but then later was made into a movie.

                                   Leon Phelps : What is love? What is this longing in our hearts for togetherness? Is it not the sweetest flower? Does not this flower of love have the fragrant aroma of fine, fine diamonds? Does not the wind love the dirt? Is not love not unlike the unlikely not it is unlikened to? Are you with someone tonight? Do not question your love. Take your lover by the hand. Release the power within yourself. Your heard me, release the power. Tame the wild cosmos with a whisper. Conquer heaven with one intimate caress. That’s right don’t be shy. Whip out everything you got and do it in the butt. By Leon Phelps

OK…I now begin to think of this guy as Leon Phelps and the heartsy silk boxer shorts were making a lot of sense.

Leon Phelps : “My name is Leon Phelps, and to those of you that are uninitiated, I am an expert in the ways of love. I have made love to many fine ladies from the lowliest bus station skank to the classiest most sophisticated, educated, debutant, high society… bus station skank. “

Now, I was having a hard time listening to what he was saying without picturing him cruising bus stations for skanks while wearing his Valentine clearance boxers.I forced myself to quit thinking about this and be polite enough to listen to what he was saying. He was telling me about some female friends of his that had ordered their eyeglasses from the internet. I had never even thought about doing that and didn’t even know that it could be done. So, I was a bit intrigued by the idea and asked him from what site on the internet were they ordering . “Leon” moved a little closer to me  in a chummy sorta way. He was ending every sentence with a great big, bad-wolf-like smile. He said that if I would give him my cellphone number, he would find out more info and give me a call. Then out of the clear blue, he asked me where I lived and did I have a husband.

This was a big OMG! moment. Leon was hitting on me.  I’m no Angelina Jolie but I’m no Phyllis Diller, either. I’ve had my share of flirting but most of it was before I had become a middle aged mother of two adult daughters. Still, I know when someone is coming on to me. And, “Leon” was!

I did some really quick thinking and told him that I did not own a cellphone.  I told him that I found them to be annoying and did not desire the constant interruptions that cellphone bring with them. This is partly true…..as you will see. I do find cellphones to be annoying. I hate to here them constantly ringing and hate, even more, to hear people talking/shouting to someone on the other line anywhere and everywhere. Either there are a lot of deaf people calling people with cellphones or people just don’t realize that others cannot help hearing every word of their personal conversations since they are talking so loudly.

Then it happened as if on cue. The damn cellphone in my purse started to ring. Not knowing what else to do, I just pretended that I didn’t hear it. Leon, with his dazzling smile, was looking very puzzled. The cellphone kept ringing. Leon asked me if that ringing was coming from my purse. I said no. The cellphone stopped ringing and I felt a huge sense of relief.

Then, it started ringing again. I was pretty positive that it was TrailerParkSkipper, who never gives up calling until I answer. Now, Leon was staring at me. He said that he was pretty sure that the ringing was coming from my purse. I insisted that it was not. The clerk was now giving me a funny look. The phone kept ringing. I ignored it. Leon was looking at me in a “you are crazy, lady” way. BUT, he was still trying to look what I think was his “come to big daddy” look.

THE LADIES MAN….Leon Phelps..” I will probably begin with a very classy first line… something like: say, sweet thing, can I buy you a fish sandwich? ”

OK….I could do one of two things at that moment. I could put on my “oh, how silly of me. It seems that I do own a cellphone” act. Or, I could cut and run. I chose the second.

For the first time in a long, long time (if ever), I laid my items down and fled the store.  I rushed to my car, hunkered down so as not to be seen, and waited until I saw The Ladies Man exit the store with his bag of silk boxer shorts. Then, I went back in, scooped up my items and paid. The clerk asked me if everything was alright since she had witnessed me leaving like my ass was on fire. I told her that I had remembered that I had left my money in my car and had to go get it.

She said that she thought it was because of the guy hitting on me in line. She said that she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when my cellphone rung.

Thank goodness that I hadn’t just imagined that.  The lesson that I learned from this is to remember to turn my cellphone either off or on vibrate.

Vibrate…..I think Leon would like that word.

 

I’ve seen a Top 10 C &W list before but this one is new to me. I got this in my email today and thought a few of you might get a chuckle or two from it.

Top Ten Country & Western Songs.

 

10. I Hate Every Bone In Her Body But Mine

 

9.  I Ain’t Never Gone To Bed With an Ugly Woman But I Woke Up With a Few

 

8.  If The Phone Don’t Ring, You’ll Know It’s Me

 

7.  I’ve Missed You, But My Aim’s Improvin’

 

6.  Wouldn’t Take Her To A Dogfight ‘Cause I’m Scared She’d Win

 

5.  I’m So Miserable Without You It’s Like You’re Still Here

 

4.  My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend And I Miss Him

 

3.  She Took My Ring and Gave Me the Finger

 

2.  She’s Lookin’ Better with Every Beer

 

And the Number One Country & Western song is . . .

 

1.  It’s Hard To Kiss The Lips At Night That Chewed My Ass All Day Long.

 

 

I can’t decide if this is the freakiest, saddest, or weirdest thing that I have ever seen. Whatever it is, I don’t think you will want to watch it more than once.

 

 

While searching for a YouTube clip from the turgid 1958 drama The Goddess ( Paddy Chayevsky’s thinly veiled story about Marilyn Monroe as interpreted by the amazing Kim Stanley), I instead came across footage of L.A.’s very own Goddess Bunny.

To hell with Marilyn! In a tinsely town where beautiful blondes are a dime-a-dozen (and chewed up and spit out and occasionally jailed by the hour) The Goddess Bunny is one L.A. Woman who stands out! In fact “her” very existence is a political act of performance art that surpasses one and all! All hail The Goddess Bunny!  Her star shines the brightest in this dull firmament!

For those not in the loop, here is a description of The Goddess Bunny lifted from one of the YouTube postings:

 

“Johnnie Baima is an American drag queen. Baima suffered a difficult childhood, being struck by polio and severely abused as a boy. As an adult he became a drag queen and changed his name to Sandie Crisp, gaining an enormous following in the Hollywood gay and transgendered subculture.

The Goddess Bunny is both the name of his alter-ego and the name of a rare 90 minute VHS documentary about Baima. As well as Johnnie’s following in the gay and transgender community, he has also attained some notoriety in mainstream culture by appearing in Marilyn Manson’s Dope Show music video”

I first learned of TGB while hanging out at the mondo bizarro video store Mondo Video A-Go-Go (back when it was still on Vermont Avenue, back when Vermont Avenue was still lowlife-friendly). I think they were taking donations for The Goddess Bunny’s Dildo Fund. Those kooks! I later ran into TGB at one of the Hollywood Forever movie screenings. TGB was in her motorized wheelchair near the restrooms at the entrance, plugged into a socket as her chair’s battery needed recharging. I asked if she needed help but she very matter-of-factly said “no.” I really wanted to have a conversation and learn MORE MORE MORE about this fascinating person but TGB seemed to prefer to just sit and wait in silence while her battery recharged. Without a doubt one of THE most interesting personalities — gay, straight or transgendered — in town! from….Papermag.

Received this in my email from a good friend. Thought that I’d share it. It explains a lot of strange happenings in Washington and other places in the US. government..

 

1947

 Some of you will recall that on July 8, 1947, a little over 60 years ago, witnesses claim that an unidentified flying object (UFO) with aliens aboard crashed onto a sheep and cattle ranch just outside Roswell, New Mexico.

 This is a well known incident that many say has long been covered up by the U.S. Air Force and other federal agencies and organizations. However, what you may NOT know is that in the month of April 1948, nine months after that historic day, the following people were born:

Albert A. Gore, Jr.

 Hillary Rodham

John F. Kerry

 William J. Clinton

 Howard Dean

 Nancy Pelosi

 Dianne Feinstein

Charles E. Schumer

 Barbara Boxer

I certainly hope this bit of information clears up a lot of things for you. It did for me. No wonder they support the bill to help illegal aliens! Now You Know.

 

I’ve grown so use to the WV powers that be doling out tax money to people who simply won’t work, people who fake injuries, unwed mothers (check out this  Marriage Bonus  )that would put the Octo-Mom to shame that I was seriously surprised to see an article in my local newspaper about this:

Not With My  Tax Dollars…..

“Welcome to NotWithMyTaxDollars.com where you can learn about my proposed legislation to drug test recipients of Welfare, Unemployment and Food Assistance (formally known as Food Stamps). 

Nowhere in our state or U.S. constitutions is it mandated that financial assistance is a right.  Make no mistake, it is a privilege afforded to those in need by the taxpayers via our federal and state governments.  Also, unemployment compensation premiums are currently paid by the employer, not the employee; however that may change very soon.  We should also remember that illicit drug use is illegal.  It is a crime that has criminal penalties.

I think it’s time that we get serious about the problem of illegal drug users abusing our public assistance system in West Virginia. We should require random drug testing for every individual receiving welfare, food assistance or unemployment benefits.  After all, more and more employers are requiring drug testing. Why not make sure that people who are supposed to be looking for work are already prequalified by being drug free?

 

Furthermore, encouraging just one drug addicted, welfare supported mother or father, to get clean, would save potentially thousands upon thousands of dollars.  For every child born who is inflicted with a lifelong drug abuse related disease, the taxpayer’s incurred expense could be in the hundreds of thousands and potentially millions of dollars. 

 

Opponents claim that this legislation will hurt the children.  Evidence clearly indicates that drug addicted parents are the ones truly inflicting the harm.  This bill actually helps to protect the children.  Someone who fails a drug test will be given two months to get clean before assistance is cut off.  Any good parent would clearly choose their children’s best interest over illegal drugs.  And, maybe financial resources or the lack there of will be a greater cessation motivator than the addiction itself.  Remember, the upfront drug testing expense is minimal compared to the backside taxpayer incurred burden. 

 

As for the constitutional issue, it has never been considered by the US Supreme Court.  Furthermore, “Big Brother” already invades welfare recipient’s lives by requiring proof of need via payroll receipts and bank account information.  Interestingly enough, employees can get fired from their job for drug usage, yet receive unemployment compensation benefits which in turn drives up the cost of employer paid unemployment premiums. 

In essence, I believe that this bill will be constitutional.  Opponents of this bill are either enablers of bad (illegal) behavior or drug abusers.  And, they’ve yet to offer a viable alternative to this legislation.

It’s time we start respecting the taxpayer and get serious about fixing this problem.”

                                                 – Delegate Craig Blair

 

 And, he is absolutely right.      “We should also remember that illicit drug use is illegal”.

Somebody, give me one damn good reason that we should be paying people to be criminals.

Yes, I do like that proposal.

But, I am embarrassed that the following was thought up by one of our own legislators:

TODAY staff and wire

updated 9:21 a.m. ET, Wed., March. 4, 2009

Barbie could get an unwelcome present for her 50th birthday: outlawed in West Virginia.

A state lawmaker proposed a bill Tuesday to ban sales of the iconic Mattel doll and others like her.

The Barbie Ban Bill, proposed by Democratic Delegate Jeff Eldridge (D) Lincoln County, says such toys influence girls to place too much importance on physical beauty, at the expense of their intellectual and emotional development.

Read rest of the story here…..Ban Barbie. 

As for me, I think banning Mountain Dew which causes a large majority of dental decay in poor kids would make a lot more sense. Think I’m kidding?…..

“PepsiCo, the makers of Mountain Dew soda, says it has reached out to a dentist working to save children’s teeth in eastern Kentucky, after ABC News reports on the problem of tooth decay, or “Mountain Dew mouth,” in the region. “

Read rest of story here. 

The following video is from the ABC special Children of the Mountains. It’s worth watching although it is a little long.

I think that you will agree that these children need other legsilature a lot more desperately than a law to ban Barbie!

I really would love to start one of these laughing groups in my area. What a great stress reliever! 

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if colleges and universities offered a Master of Laugh? Or, a Doctorate of Giggling?

Yeah….I could go for that in a heartbeat!!!!

 

Yesterday was just plum bad. That’s what my Mama use to say….”plum bad”.

“He’s just plum bad. Nuthin’ good ’bout him.”

When she said that, it meant that we needed to steer clear of that person or we’d meet with no good.

Yesterday was just plum bad. From the get go. I woke up with tears streaming down my face. I had a sad dream but could only remember bits and pieces of it. Somebody was missing. But, the somebody kept changing. The last that I remember of the dream was this…

“I’m creeping across the floor to peek out a window. And, to me relief, the somebody who was missing in this section of the dream had been found. This somebody was my first boyfriend who died from cancer 2 years ago. He was standing outside the window and waving at me and smiling with his twinkling eyes. I’ve always had a thing for twinkling eyes. Twinkling eyes are seem to be promising something good.. Really weird…..

I woke up stiff all over, too. It was like I had been turning around to look behind me while running. Those were the muscles that were stiff…neck, waist, and hips.

After reading blogs and posting comments for a while, I managed to finally get showered and out the door. I needed desperately to go grocery shopping. I hate grocery shopping. TPKen is not the voracious eater that he once was. Most elaborte dishes go unappreciated so I stick to Hamburger Helper, chili, spaghetti, and other simple meals. I mean….why would I continue to waste time and money cooking anything that takes more than 15 minutes? I love cooking for people who like to eat and can appreciate the effort of a good, homecooked meal that takes hours to make. I hate cooking for a person who doesn’t care if it’s a Spamloaf or lobster. So, grocery shopping is no fun for me except when I use coupons. But, that’’s no longer good entertainment, either. It’s more like a chore. As y’all know, though, I am so friggin’ OCD about some things, it’s pathetic.

The night before, I made myself grab the telephone book size stack of coupon inserts that I had been saving from the newspapers. I have progressed a little with the obession of coupons. I use to cut EVERY SINGLE COUPON out of the inserts and magazines. It didn’t matter whether it was something that we used. The only thing that mattered was the possibility of getting something free. FREEFREEEFREEFREEE was like a drug for me.That was until one day, I looked in my bathroom closet and among the rows and rows of shampoos, lotions, conditioners, soaps, etc. I spotted 6 KY Jelly Sets of warming lotion and lubricating lotion. That’s when I realized that I was spending a large chunck of time cutting coupons, going shopping, running up and down the aisles in search of a product that I had a coupon for, and pushing a buggy full of shit to the register. Shit of which I only needed about 60%. Then, once I got home, I had to put away the groceries AND all of the shit that I didn’t need/want/had no place to put.

That was my day of reckoning….THE DAY OF KY JELLY SHOCK!

I’ve gotten better with small baby steps. I started cutting only coupons for products that either my household, TPSkipper’s and TPMidge’s households, or any friend/family households regularly used.

I soon had to take another couple of baby steps when I realized that I had not cut back much at all. So, I determined to cut back to only TPSkipper, TPMidge, and my households. This didn’t work very well, either. TPSkipper and TPMidge either didn’t want to drag the stuff (that I was positively sure they needed) home. They said that they would just use it when they were at my house. Well, OK…I thought. But, just how many visits would they have to make at a certain time of month to use up the industrial size box of mini-pads that I bought on clearance with a coupon which equalled almost free?  And, in the meantime, I had to find somewhere else to keep all of the shampoos, lotions, washes, etc. because that damn industrial size box took up all my space in the closet.  And, TPS got a little snippy one day when I suggested that she use some of the min-pads.

“Mom…stop it! I’m not even having my period right now!”….said TPS.

So, I suggested that she put a few in her purse for unexpected visits from Aunt Flo or a sudden nasty yeast infection. Of course, I was hollering this at her back as she got in her car to leave. I didn’t here her answer but I think the vigorous shaking of her head and mouthing “You Are Nuts” at me made me realize that she did not want them. So, Goodwill became the recepient of a gigantic box of minipads. Also, 23 Right Guard solids (TPK only uses spray). However, I couldn’t bear to part with my many, many (I’ve lost count) different razors that I got with coupons for free. The fact is that TPK and myself only use Gillette Good News Disposables. Still, some hairy guy might come by and need to shave and it would be just terrible if I didn’t have a Titanium razor that needs refills to offer him to use.

On Wednesday night, I pulled out all of those coupon inserts, got my scissors, and sat down to clip. But, my heart was just not in it. A crazy thought came into my head….DID IDARE GO SHOPPING WITHOUT COUPONS? COULD I BE THAT BRAVE? Naaawh….but I resigned myself to only cutting the coupons for stuff that we actually use. This was a liberating action. But, there were so many inserts of coupons that I got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I get when I think about paying full price. I had neglected cutting coupons for so long and I dreaded it.

SO, I DIDN”T! “You can do it!”, I told myself.

Yesterday, I left my house with coupons that had already been cut. Not strong enough yet to go coupon naked. I’m trying to get there.

Before going to the grocery store, I was obsessed with going to that local dept. store that I talk about where I get great name brand stuff on clearance for a buck or two. You know the store….where The Ladies Man bought those hearsty red boxers. I can wander around in that store for hours and hours. And, I did. Shit! Once again, I lost track of time. I just enjoy finding the real bargains so much that I think of it as therapy. Much cheaper than paying an actual therapist. I don’t take my cellphone in so I feel free of demands from family or the outside world. I had been buying lots and lots and lots of bags full of stuff on clearance there. I had been putting a lot of it on eBay. But,now, along with the rest of the economy, eBay is in the toilet. Nothing is selling. If you need anything, this would be a great time to shop on eBay. I still have boxes full of stuff that has not been exiled to the garage by TPKen. He thinks that if I don’t see it, I’ll forget about it, and he can get rid of it. WRONG! I know that it’s there.

Yesterday was a little different. I did buy 4 bags of stuff. Most of it was stuff that TPKen or I could actually use. I have to admit, though, that I did throw in a few items for eBay (just in case the economy picks up and size 3XL women or 2XL men want to spend their stimulus money on clothes). Right now, though, as I type, I am looking at a bunch of crap that I need to put away somewhere. Those big clothing items take up room!

 I had spent way too much time wandering the clearance aisles. It was getting late and I still had to go to the grocery store. So, with coupons in hand,I went to Kroger’s. I tried to hurry. At first, I had strong impusles to use my coupons. The first three aisles went really slow as I was trying to match the coupon, number of items needed for coupon, and size of item required by coupon. Somewhere between Quaker Oats and cottage cheese, a voice inside of my head said, “FUCK THIS!”.  I tried to ignore it but while looking at baby wipes (I don’t have a baby but those suckers are great to clean bathrooms), the voice said, “You are wasting your life doing this crap! Lay the coupons down and step away from them real easy-like”. The voice sounded like Dirty Harry. Dirty Harry means business so…

I broke and ran!  Being afraid that Harry was going to follow me, I hid my coupons underneath the stuff in my buggy. This turned out to be a good thing. I no longer was looking thru the coupons BUT I knew they were safe in the buggy.

I went through the next several aisles as if my ass were on fire. Checked out. Saved a few bucks with coupons. Wanted to punch myself for paying full price for an item when I knew darn well that there was a coupon laying under the 5lb bag of onions in my buggy.

While I was loading my groceries in my car, I cursed myself. Then, I congratulated myself. Then, I cursed myself some more. Then, I congratulated myself while cursing.

Although, this story might be funny, obsessions and hoarding are serious problems. And, they don’t evaporate over night. I’ve got a lot more baby steps to take. This is what I was telling myself when I stepped in a gob of slick mud and fell. I wrote this in one of my comments yesterday. If you read it, bear with me while I repeat it.

I had taken the first armload of groceries in and was heading back to my car for another. Our walk is made of individual stepping stones. TPKen started the project and (SURPRISE SURPRISE! yep, being sarcastic) hasn’t finished it. He is OCD and a real perfectionist. He HAS to do thing in the order that he thinks they need done. This is a good thing as he is an engineer and makes his living being OCD. It is a bad thing when he does not finish a project because he has decided that Step 2, Step 3, etc. HAVE to come next. The trouble with that is his steps make no sense to me. Having said that, we have a beautiful country stone walk…..bordered by inches of gooey mud. His logical thinking has him deciding that whoknowswhat has to be done before grass is planted.

I was almost at my car when I stepped off one of the stones and stuck my foot in 2-3 inches of slick, gooey mud. My foot went sliding and of course, was followed by my leg, butt, etc. I did one of those stupid little gymnastic-like moves trying to right myself before I hit the ground. It seemed like a went into slo-mo and could see myself. I almostgot myself upright. ALMOST. My blanance was a tad bit off and down I went.  Somehow, I slid about a foot in that damn mud. My knees hit gravel. The right side of my face hit dirt and gravel. I had slid far enough for my head to bounce off a tree. I was covered completely on one side with mud. I lay there for a minute and cursed the universe (mostly TPKen).

Finally, I slowly dragged myself up with the help of loose bark on the tree. I had the air knocked out of me. I bent over, held onto the tree, and gasped for air.

And that is how TPKen found me when he drove up less than a minute later.

“What’cha doing?” he asked.

“Tryin’ to figure how big the roots are on this tree, dumbass! What does it look like, Einstein? I fell”……I said using his pet names.

For Heaven’s sake, I was covered in mud on one side, had gravel on my face, and could barely straighten up!

“Oh…OK. Got any groceries in the back of the car? “he asked.

I won’t risk an X rating of my blog by writing the words that came out of my mouth.

Anyway…..today is a new day. I’m going to WalMart. I’ve got coupons for free stuff!!!!!

It takes your food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach.  

 One human hair can support 3 kg (6.6 lb). 

 The average man’s penis is three times the length of his thumb. 

 Human thighbones are stronger than concrete. 

 A woman’s heart beats faster than a man’s. 

 There are about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet.
  
 Women blink twice as often as men. 

 The average person’s skin weighs twice as much as the brain.
  
 Your body uses 300 muscles to balance itself when you are standing still. 

 If saliva cannot dissolve something, you cannot taste it. 

 Women reading this will be finished now. 

 Men are still busy checking their thumbs.         

I sold some boxer shorts on ebay today to a guy named……….

HO TRANE

I’m wondering if he has a MySpace page and if so, what is his MySpace name?

Just wondering………

That’s all I wanted to say.

Goodnight!

PS I wondering if Ho Trane Twitters? If so, I wonder if he Twittered about buying his undies on ebay?

I dream of  it. I picture it in my mind. I talk about it. Now, I’m writing about it.

I want to go into hiding……..

The problem with me hiding, though, is that with my luck, I’d hit my head on something while scampering to hide. I’d get a concussion and be unconscious for a long period of time. I would then go into a coma.  No one would be able to locate me up here in the Boogerwoods until the smell of my decaying body would draw wild critters to feast.

I’d better think up another plan. Like running away to the rain forest and intergrating with the gorillas in the mist or something.

I have (as usual) gotten behind on a lot of stuff. I need to be working on taxes right now instead of writing a post. But, my stress level is on RED ALERT!  I need a break and writing provides relief.

I woke up with a horrible case of diarreah which is slowing me down (yet making me really fastat the same time if you get my drift). In between bathroom trips,  I have managed to balance the business account, pay business bills, run the sweeper (half-heartedly), mop, (also, half heartedly), and wrap up 7 packages of eBay items for mailing. I’m hoping that this little pause will refresh me enough to go to the post office and mail them.

Between the 3rd or 4th bathroom run this morning, I was in my kitchen throwing a roast and potatoes in the crock pot when movement outside the window caught my eye. A strange car was pulling up in the driveway. Since I live on a dead-end road that’s really off the beaten path, I don’t get many unexpected visitors. As I watched, a very elderly man and an ancient-looking frail woman got out of the car and came up the walk. These two were so old that I was afraid that climbing the steps to the porch would prove too much for them.  I hurried to the door but just as I was a few feet away, my stomach starting churning which meant I could either open the door with dookey pants or leave them standing and run for the toilet. The first option was not very desirable so I took off at warped speed to the bathroom.

So, there I was……..sitting on the toilet with painful stomach cramps while two people who might have succumbed to old age/and,or/heart attacks/strokes, etc. began to bang on my door. They were banging on my door because TPKen has put “installing doorbell” very low on his list of finishing this damn house priorities. I think that it’s right below finishing the stairway that sets right smack dab in the middle of the living room. Hold on….

“takes deep breath and counts to 1 million”

Not gonna write or think anymore about all the unfinished house stuff right now. If I do, my head will explode. I’ll return to what I was writng about. Wait…..

“takes another deep breath and counts to 1 billion. does primal scream and kicks the garbage can”

No, I simply will not give in to dwelling on all of the unfinished shit here. After FIVE YEARS. Excuse me one more time……

“gulps down an Ativan with a drink of Jack Daniels, straight from the bottle”

There….I’m all better now. Back to the trots and the old people.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!   To my surprise, those old people sure had some hard, loud knocking skills. I’m trying to hurry up with my bidnezz. I really wanted to know who they were and what they wanted. Finally, my tummy has ceased it’s seizures and unearthly growling. I hurried out of the bathroom, not even taking the time to wash my hands. I rushed to the door, swung it open, and

dammit…..I saw the back of their car as it was leaving. I, also, saw a paper that they had left sticking out from under the welcome mat. It was a WatchTower. I had been the victim of a Jehovah’s Witnesses drive-by.

No, I’m not going to bash Jehovah’s Witnesses. I am somewhat in awe of anybody who goes door-to-door these days for any reason. It’s neither here nor there whether I believe what they believe. If a person is so old and frail that I am afraid that they will not make it up my steps and has the dedication to their beliefs that these people obviously did, I say, “Good for them!”.  To be truthful, though, I would have been kind but sent them on their way in a few short minutes.

I wonder if it’s true that JW will not knock at your door if you display an American flag. I just now remembered that I had heard that somewhere. If it is true, why would the American flag stop them? Maybe, it’s like a vampire and garlic. Would it cause them to fall down and burn up, leaving a smear of charred matter? If any of you know the answer to this, I’d like to know. I guess I could check it out on UrbanLegends  or Snopes. 

When TPSkipper and TPMidge were really young, there was an older lady from the Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to my house frequently. Her name was LuLu and she was an interesting lady. She would sit for a while and talk about all kinds of stuff. My girl’s loved it when she came. LuLuwas exceptionally happy with her set of false teeth. She would tell us all about when she got them, where she got them, the cost of them, and anything else you could possibly think of about false teeth. She would even take them out so that we could  admire every single bit of them. LuLu suddenly stopped showing up. I watched the obits in the paper for her name. Yes, it was a morbid thing to do but I wondered what happened to her. Never did find out.

Ok…I’m bout done. Got a lot more to do today. I feel a tiny bit better. I might even tackle opening up our IRA statement. I’m not one that gets scared easily but these statements have been the things of which nightmares are made. I like to know what’s going on and go ahead and tackle problems head on but lately, (I’m ashamed to admit), I leave the statements on the kitchen counter for days before I’m brave enough to open it. Since we own a small business. we are responsible for our own retirement funds. We’ve lost over half of our money in the last few months. If we lose any more, I’m gonna have to take drastic actions and take up begging on the street corner. Seriously.

Today has been hectic to say the least.

I took a minute to make a wish. I wished for a less busy life…….

Not saying that all guys don’t help…..JUST MINE!

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. In the event that TPKen and I were no longer married, I would scour the lesbian ads. Not being a lesbian presents a small problem but I’ve figured that out. I would post on eHarmony that I am looking for a frigid lesbian who has no desire for sexual activity. I wouldn’t mind having a wife! Better yet, I’d be on the lookout for a frigid, older woman with money. Who says that I don’t have a dream?

Well, I finally put it off as long as I could. I got up the nerve to open my recent IRA statements.

We’ve lost somewhere between EIGHTY and NINETY THOUSAND DOLLARS in the last few months!!!!!!!!

I demand a bailout!!!!! Obama……how can you sit back knowing that some of us have worked our asses off for many years and put money in IRAs, counting on them for retirement? Little peons like myself do not have the luxury of the salary of a Senator, Congressman, dumbass Nancy Pelosi, etc. being protected and not having to worry. 

 Meanwhile, every bank, car company, mortgage companies, and other mismanaged businesses are being bailed out not once, not twice, but in some cases THREE times!!!!!

I am seriously pissed off!

So, here’s a little token of my unapreciation for all the help that any of you stupid assholes  having given me…….

No, wait…..you haven’t given me any! So, this is for all of the non-help that  I have received from you.

And, here’s a lil sumptin’ sumptin’ for you crooks who stole money from hard working Americans who believed in you.

 

 Don’t be surprised if many Americans in my situation reply with this…….

PS…..Dear Mr Obama…..please hurry up and give me my incentive rebate. The box of  turkey and deer turds that I wanted to mail to you and your Democratic crazies cost more in postage than I thought that it would. Even parcel post is more than I can afford.

I take an extra Ativan.

My last post was a rant about the value of my IRA’s falling to an unbelievable low. Today, I got hit wih a call from WV State Unemployment Compensation. I’ve been informed that we are being audited. FOR 2006! I feel like puking. Due to TPKen’s lack of attention to finishing my office, I have papers, notes, forms, and everything else needed for the audit stuck all over my house. Some stuff is in the unfinished family room. Some are in the unfinished garage. There’s a file cabinet in my unfinished office that is overstuffed with crap. The woman on the phone was rude and unpleasant. She gave me a long list of things that I must come up with my next Wednesday……940s, 941s,W2, a year of canceled checks, pay records back to 2006, and much, much more.

This is on top of the fact that I am trying to carve out time for gathering all the info for filing our taxes this year.

I need a drink or 8.

SOS! SOS! SOS

 

So, here’s what is has come to……

We’ve worked hard establishing a small business.

We’ve filled out gov form after gov form.

We’ve played by the rules and been honest.

Obama is gonna kill us with taxes.

Now, I’ve got to spend weeks doing more forms and finding forms from almost 3 years ago that I had already done.

I sooooooo wanna quit!

I’ll probably become an alcoholic or drug addict very soon. Of course, that depends on whether I have enough money left to purchase either.

If all else fails, I’m making a “Could You Spare Some Change” sign and heading to the intersection of 2 interstate roads nearby.

Where’s help for us, the small business people. I am seriously overwhelmed right now. And, for the first time, I cannot see any relief in any area coming my way.

Take notice…..it doesn’t say GOOD change, does it?

WHITTIER, Calif. (March 9) – Southern California’s octuplets mother may be moving to a new home and getting help to raise her brood.

Nadya Suleman’s father Ed Doud is purchasing a $564,900 house in the city of La Habra in a deal is expected to close Friday, said Prudential Realty listing agent Mike Patel.

We’ve learned her dad is the purchaser of the 2,583 square-foot house for Octo. It’s located in La Habra, near where OctoGrandma lives now. It has four bedrooms and three bathrooms, a large master bedroom with a walk-in closet and a large backyard. It’s listed for $564,900. The buyer paid near asking price.

It’s listed by Mike Patel of Prudential Realty in Anaheim Hills in the O.C. We’re told the deal was just inked and it will close on Friday. Sources also say the “substantial down payment” came from money that OctoMom has been scoring over the last few weeks. As one source put it, “the money has been coming from all over the place — $15,000 here, $25,000 there.” We’re told the seller is financing the deal.

From TMZ.com

 

Look who is lurking behind the U-Haul…….

Those octokids certainly look alert and well behaved!!!!!

This is pretty good. I got it in my email and thought that I would share it.

TWO WOLVES…..

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said: ‘My son, the battle is between ‘two wolves’ inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute, and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf wins?’

The old Cherokee simply replied: ‘The one you feed.‘

PS….I usually have a wisecrack or something smart-ass to say in my post, but not this one. This one made me think.

 

Most of y’all know this but just in case one reader happens along while looking for “white trash sex” or “white trash slut” (both rank high in search terms here), I’ll take a sec and explain some things.

1. I am WTWM (white trash with money). I was not born with money. In fact, I grew up dirt poor but worked hard and married a man who, also, works hard. Voila’……instant  long- time- in -the- making financial stability. Well, at least it wasfinancial stability until the market took a nose dive and made my IRA’s worth less than  the Charmin that I use to wipe my ass.

2. I am bipolar. And, recently, I have chosen to become an untreated bipolar. Psych meds are cooked up in motel rooms by an unbathed  transient wearing a wife-beater-with-underarm-sweat-stains shirt. Oh yeah, he’s the med tester, too. (I guess you might say that I have a tad bit of anger and bitterness toward psych docs and the pharma companies. But, that rant is for another day).

3. I am a compulsive shopper.

4. I am a recovering hoarder.

5. No3 and No 4 don’t mix very well.

So, now to what I really wanted to post about today.

I’m half Irish. I think that I deserve a St Paddy’s gift.

I spent part of the day lisitng stuff on eBay. Stuff that I had acquired on one of my frequent shopping sprees. Stuff that I have no use for but are money makers on eBay. I’d be shittin’ in high financial cotton if I could just make myself list all of that crap that I’ve bought on a whim.

I have a problem with looking at stuff on eBay after I have finished listing. Almost every dadgone time, I buy something that cost more than what I will make if every single thing that I listed sells.

This morning, I came across an ugly jug that was really unique. It would look perfect in my ugly mug collection. I started to place a bid but stopped. COMMON SENSE made a rare appearance in my brain. I decided to think about it before I bid. I’ve thought about it almost all day. I am now asking for YOUR help.

Should I or should I not buy this:

 

 

“This Folk Art Face jug is titled `Aretha Franklins Hat.` It is number #32 of my jugs made. She is made from Pinch Pot technique and hand altered. Made of Stoneware Clay that was high fired to cone 6. Aretha Franklin sang ~“My Country Tis of Thee“ at President Obama`s Inauguration. Since then her hat has became famous and a part of American history, Even the Smithsonian wants to acquire the hat to put on exhibit. This jug is 9 inches tall, Cheek to Cheek 6 inches width. Bow to Bow 8 inches width..Thin Walls with no cracks & glazed on the inside and outside , poreclian eyes and teeth, signed S.Boland an original piece no molds are used. Radiant Sun Studio stamped and dated 2009.”

So, whaddya think?

“edited to add” The more that I look at it, the more it looks like Mammy with a piece of tin roofing on her head.

Boy, I’ve had a busy day! This is the day that we were supposed to be audited but that has been postponed until tomorrow. Happy Happy Joy Joy….NOT. One more sleepless night in anticipation. At least we’re not AIG. And, hopefully, the auditor won’t look like Barney Fife Frank. On the other hand, Barney could provide some good comic relief.

At least I don’t have to worry about giving back a retention bonus. So far, no death threats  to worry about either.

“one of the threats, which said AIG  staff and their families should be executed “with piano wire.” 

Ouch! It’s getting uglier by the minute.

Since my head is full of facts, figures, and images of  TPKen being strangled with piano wire (by me because I have to take my aggression and frustration out on somebody), I am doing something that I rarely do. I’m posting some jokes that I got in my email. If you have a kid, were a kid at one time, know a kid, or even have only seen a kid on television, you’ll find at least one of these pretty funny. And, if you don’t…….

TEACHER:   Maria, go to the map and find North America
MARIA:         Here it is.
TEACHER:  Correct. Now class, who discovered America ?
CLASS:         Maria!!!!

TEACHER: Donald, what is the chemical formula for water?
DONALD:     H I J K L M N O.
TEACHER:  What are you talking about?
DONALD:     Yesterday you said it’s H to O.

TEACHER:  Winnie, name one important thing we have today that we didn’t have
ten years ago.
WINNIE:       Me!

 
TEACHER:    Millie, give me a sentence starting with ‘ I. ‘
MILLIE:           I is..
TEACHER:    No, Millie….. Always say, ‘I am.’
MILLIE:           All right…  ’I am the ninth letter of the alphabet.’ 
 
TEACHER: Now, Simon, tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating?
SIMON:        No sir, I don’t have to, my Mom is a good cook.

 TEACHER:   Clyde , your composition on ‘My Dog’ is exactly the same as your
 brother’s. Did you copy his?
 CLYDE :       No, sir. It’s the same dog.

TEACHER:  Harold, what do you call a person who keeps on talking when
people are no longer interested?
HAROLD:   A teacher

and….

CHILDREN’S BOOKS THAT YOU’LL NEVER SEE…… 

Strangers Have the Best Candy”
“The Little Sissy Who Snitched”
“Some Kittens Can Fly!”
“Getting More Chocolate on Your Face”
“Where Would You Like to Be Buried?”
“Kathy Was So Bad Her Mom Stopped Loving Her”
“The Attention Deficit Disorder Association’s Book of Wild Animals of North Amer – Hey! Let’s Go Ride Our Bikes!”
“All Dogs Go to Hell”
“The Kids’ Guide to Hitchhiking”
“You Are Different and That’s Bad”
“Dad’s New Wife Timothy”
“Pop! Goes the Hamster….and Other Great Microwave Games”
“Testing Homemade Parachutes Using Only Your Household Pets”
“The Hardy Boys, the Barbie Twins, and the Vice Squad”
“Babar Meets the Taxidermist”
“Curious George and the High-Voltage Fence”
“The Boy Who Died from Eating All His Vegetables”
“Start a Real-Estate Empire with the Change from Your Mom’s Purse”
“The Pop-up Book of Human Anatomy”
“Things Rich Kids Have, But You Never Will”
“The Care Bears Maul Some Campers and Are Shot Dead”
“How to Become the Dominant Military Power in Your Elementary School”
“Controlling the Playground: Respect through Fear”
“When Mommy and Daddy Don’t Know the Answer, They Say God Did It”
“What Is That Dog Doing to That Other Dog?”
“Why Can’t Mr. Fork and Ms. Electrical Outlet Be Friends?”
“Bi-Curious George”
“Daddy Drinks Because You Cry”
“You Were an Accident”

Hopefully, I’ll be back and writing something original tomorrow and not relying on my email. Wish me luck!  

 

 

You’ve all been in a situation like one of these………

You’re standing in a crowd of people at a party when somebody starts talking about the ho’ over in the corner hitting on a married man. You snicker and glance over and find out….it’s your sister/mother/friend,etc.

Somebody is telling you about a real asshole that they work with. You ask who the person is and…..it’s your spouse/brother/father/friend, etc.

You’re talking to a person in line at the grocery store about the low-life scumbag who got caught cheating the welfare system and….it’s their son/daughter/sister, etc.

You get the idea, right?

This is what happened to me today. My sister came for a visit and she told me to go to youtube and check out this video of a street preacher. When I questioned her, she just said, “Do it.”

So, of course, I did. Here’s the video…..

 

As I watched it, I got a feeling of familiarity but couldn’t just quite put my finger on who it was.I’m sitting and watching the video when TPKen started making sarcastic and somewhat…well…..shitty remarks about the guy being a religious zealot. Another person (who I will not name because they will get really pissed off if they read this) was making really unflattering remarks, too. All of a sudden, I realized who that was in the video.Unfortunately, TPKen did not and was not being very kind. So, I just looked at my sister and said, “Tell them who that is that is the street preacher.”

She said………”That’s C******, my son and your nephew.”

The room suddenly got really quiet except for the preaching coming from the video.

I looked at TPKen and friend. They both looked embarrassed (as they should have). But, ya know, it could have been me. Had I not recognized him, I may have joined them in making fun of that guy. So, I am, also, embarrassed (as I should be). Today’s shitcake will be awarded to TPKen, the friend, ……and ME.

The lesson……..It’s a small world these days.Ya never know who is gonna turn up on the internet.

My nephew, the street preacher, has drastically changed since I last saw him. Only a few years ago, he had longish hair and was wearing Marilyn Manson t-shirts. He was a really quiet boy. The times….they are a changin’.

 Watching the video, I gained a lot of respect for him. Whether your beliefs are the same as his or not, it takes some mighty big balls to stand on a street corner and profess your belief in God these days. You definitely have to be either firmly grounded in your beliefs or a crazy psycho. He’s not a crazy psycho.

So, here’s to you C! I admire your bravery and convictions, especially in this crazy world where you could be killed or imprisoned for taking a stand.

 

PS….for those of you who are wondering about my audit ordeal, I’ll post about it tomorrow.

Now, gotta run. I’ve got shitcake to eat……

Whew! Finally the audit is over…..for now. 

Next, on to THE BIGGIE…..filing fed and state personal and business taxes. No wait…..that’s not right. Quarterlies are due soon. Then, the biggie……or something else as equally unpleasant.

Our tax audit had been set for Wednesday of last week. I scurried around for the whole week before digging out records, pay stubs, forms that had been filed, etc. for the last 2 1/2 years. And, this was all for a STATE UNEMPLOYMENT AUDIT! I still can’t understand why we were audited by this branch of that state tax department. We’ve only had one person ever file for unemployment in the last 15 years or so. We had to lay him off due to business being down. But, he had been hired knowing that his position was going to be temporary and was not hit by a surprise layoff or anything.  For over 15 years, I have dutifully filed the quarterly reports and been totally forthcoming and honest when doing so. To say that we were surprised when we were informed that we were being audited is a gigantic understatement.

Sammi called and postponed our audit until the next day, Thursday.

This all started right before Christmas. Our auditor, whom I shall call Sammi, called my husband at his office wanting to look over our books. Dumbledee  aka TPKen told her that I did all of the tax reports from our home. And, that is true. But, what TPKen did not tell her was that records are in boxes spread throughout different parts of our house……some in the unfinished family room, some in the garage, and some…..who knows where? This is only partly the norm as I have a file cabinet in my office in which I keep most past records. Right now, though, that file cabinet was about as much use as a new pair of running shoes would be to a patient on a life support machine.

We started building TPKen’s dream houseover five years ago. And, being the OCD perfectionist that he is, TPK would not let anybody work on this dream house but himself. Oh, he did hire a few contractors to do the roofing and the brick laying. He, also, hired some contractors to lay tile on the floors. But, he was so hard on them and so demanding that none of them will come back here to do anything. TPK is the kind of person that stands and looks over your shoulder while you are doing the work. This makes me completely nutso! I am far better and much, much faster on a computer than he is and he will ask me to type something. I’ll start and soon I can feel breathing on my neck. He’s standing right behind me watching me type. So, to shake it up a little, I’ll start typing nonsense which is filled with offensive curse words. For example, if I have to write a letter for him, it might go like this….

To Whom It May Concern,

Our company has recently become aware of naked men with their huge dongs hanging out a new product that might be of interest to there are dogs outside the window effing like rabbits you.

This product was designed and could be used to wipe your ass and developed by our engineering department that consists of 2 midgets who work weekends for the WWF, one overthehill nasty  sore-covered whore……

So, you get the idea? Right? Of course, when he really leans over to read what I have typed, he goes ballistic. This is when I inform him that if he doesn’t stay at least one room’s length away while I am typing, I will really send out letters with full of X-rated nonsense.

He backs off. He knows that I will do it.

Back to audit story…..

In a nutshell, I was in a panic. I had no clue as to the location of the specific information that Sammi wanted. And, I was pissed! TPKen has a beautifully finished office upstairs. Lovely ornate desk with matching cabinets and tables. Recently, he bought 2 visitor’s chairs for it. It has been used ONE TIME and that was to do federal taxes last year. The cabinet, desk drawers, table…..all shining clean and EMPTY.

On the otherhand, TPKen has been working  (if ya can call 10 minutes every other weekend working) on my office for the last 3 years. Until recently, I had a white fold out table, computer with student size cheapo computer desk, chair, and one file cabinet in it. He moved them all out about 3 months ago so as to do all the finish work such as putting in electrical outlet covers, touching up scars on woodwork, installing telecable, etc. And he insisted that the office just had to be completely empty before he could do it. THREE MONTHS AGO….still an empty room. I’ve been doing all of the company payroll, quarterlies, etc. from a family/storage room filled with boxes of who knows what. Seriously, I packed those boxes so long ago, I do not remember what is stored in them.

When the auditor called TPKen, he told her to call me. She said that she had to do an audit and wanted to set up a date. I told her to call Ken back since he was the one who was at the business every day. He told her that she could not do an audit there due to secrecy clauses he had signed with people who had hired him to design machines for them. So…..back to the house. She was coming to my house.

I had a lot of work to do. First, find all the damn forms/papers, etc. Make sure that they were all there and in order. Make copies of everything. But, the second thing that I did was more helpful in the long run.

I googled Sammi (remember, not her real name. I don’t wanna get in trouble by writing her real name and then somebody coming across it, telling her, and putting myself in a position of more harrassmentaudits). Yessirree….I googled Sammi every time I had an extra minute. I found out that Sammi likes flavored bottled water. Sammi smokes a certain menthol ciggie. Sammi was not married but had been in several serious relationships. Oh, girl,  I googled Sammi long and hard and I knew a lot about Sammi prior to her visit. A LOT!

Sammi was suppose to show up around 10:00am. The plan was that she would call TPKen from a 7-11 and he would meet her and lead her to our house. By 10:30, there was no word from Sammi. I begin to let my imagination run wild and pictured Sammi finally choosing one of her long-term guys and running off to Vegas to get married.

10:40….Sammi called. She could not get TPKen on the phone. His line was busy. He is the only person that I know who does not have call waiting. I told Sammi that I send someone to his office to tell him that she was waiting. She said that would be fine as she needed to run into the 7-11 to buy a drink and some ciggies. Menthol…hee hee, I knew they were menthol.

to be concluded in Part 2….coming soon (I hope).

 

I didn’t know……..

I’ve been working on a post about my audit. But, you know me……I can’t just write a simple post. It always turns into a novella. I’ll try to finish it tonight. In the meantime, I thought I would post this video because it has some pretty startling and amazing information in it. Exciting in a SCARY way. This video was presented by Sony at their executive conference this year.

If that’s not enough to make you set up and take notice, check this out. My last post was about being surprised by discovering my nephew in a youtube video. That’s nothing compared to this. Makes me wonder how many people that I know (plus myself) have their pictures/videos on the internet and don’t even know it. Google Earth is nothing compared to this.

I thought you might have some fun with this
 
Can’t believe this – the technology is mind-boggling!

This is a photo from the 2009 Inauguration, in which you can see IN FOCUS
The face of each individual in the crowd!!!

You can scan, double click and zoom to any section of the crowd.  .  . wait a few seconds.  .  . and the focus adjusts.

The picture was taken with a robotic camera at 1,474 megapixel. (295 times the standard 5 megapixel camera)

Makes you wonder who’s watching us right now !!!!!!!!
Find Obama and then all the VIPs sitting nearby!

I got this in my email and at first thought it was just a prank. But, it’s not. Click the link. Talk about Big Brother!!!! This makes me either not want to go out of my house or always dress in some disguise like, maybe, Elvis Presley.

 

Toto…..we’re not in Kansas anymore!

I’ve had another terrible day. Ever had a headache from the top of your head to the tip of your toes and all the areas in between? Well, I have. And, I had one today.

Imagine having all of these all over your body at one time……

I really wanted to finish my post on THE AUDIT but just couldn’t do it. So, I got this redheaded guy at this place to write it for me. He has a great blog named   Hizzy Dinglecrungle.  Need a blog written, give him a visit.

So, here’s the rest of my post written by the redhaired guy……

The Rest Of My Visit From The Auditor

Razzzap-blippity-cake! Zap tangity blabbity zangity bam flobble loo flopping fleeblob. Hum tizzle flibflob. Zap rizzle hum dizzle flabbing dangbloo, roo dingle shnaz hum blopping tingbork ting. Boo hum flup blip flingity rakity flakity blip flapblung? “Yap woogle yap?” shnozzle Leia. Duh flippity zingletongle! Ha DOO Chaka Khan ingletang! LOO WIGGLE HO DIZZLE ZING A HIZZLEGOBBLE, DEE ZOWEE BLO DEE ZING A NIZZLEDINGLE BIZZLE. Bleeb bizzle? “NIP WIGGLE ZAP?” LING MR. GARRISON. BLANG NIP SHNUZZLE DIZZLE? “Zap zing yip?” gobble Miss Beasley. Bleeping goblinkanoodle. Funk roo ingle! Duh dee the Antichrist blingbang! Zangle wooble zunk boo whack flip crangle yap razz. Yap zip cakewacko boo loo meep, loo zunkity ho cake zip. Ha blapping jangely zippity nip flip zap flupping gobbletang. Roo flubbity tongledang! Wacko bam wuggle zip wuggle-tangle!! Floo DA gobble-zingle. Boo SHNOZZLE dobbabizzle. Mary Mother of God ho Clinton yap shnazzy bing-shnoz. Blab ha blip hum dubba-blip!! Oodle! Shrubbery dingle? KANOODLE TWIDDLE ROO BANG ZIP LING? Bloo! Tingle doo flobble zip fraggle-shnoz!! Goblin bam zowee zip bizzle-woogle!! Da blop flob? Dong! QUABBLE YIP ZUNKITY WOOBLEWOW. Quibble ha crangely shnozzlewooble. Boo flonging flubbing bleebing ha bing bam sloppy quibblejangle. Wacko bam blang! Hum yap da Han Solo flabdongle. “DOO FLING HUM?” BLAB CARTMAN. Flib dizzle zonkity hum wubblewaggle??? Remember: If you use Blippity Fling-Flang, you must link back to me!

I‘ll be back tomorrow to translate unless totally knocked on my ass by that headache again.

Finally, I have a few minutes to finish my story about my tax audit.

Here’s what I did……

After doing extensive research on “Sammi” and finding all kinds of embarrassing pictures (some XXX RATED) on Facebook, MySpace, and The Auditor’s Chat Forum, I decided to blackmail her by posting this picture in the Tax Chat Thread…..

Actually, none of that is true. Stan suggested that this is what I may have done in one of his comments. Dammit, Stan!!!! Why didn’t I think of that? It would have been so much more interesting and exciting than the real story.

Where I left off in part I…….

“10:40….Sammi called. She could not get TPKen on the phone. His line was busy. He is the only person that I know who does not have call waiting. I told Sammi that I send someone to his office to tell him that she was waiting. She said that would be fine as she needed to run into the 7-11 to buy a drink and some ciggies. Menthol…hee hee, I knew they were menthol.”

10:45….Sammi called to inform me that she and TPKen had connected and they would be here “in a few”. Yep, she actually said, “in a few”. AHA…all the better for my plan.

10:46….TPKen called to inform me that he and Sammi had connected and were on their way. Sammi is more colorful with words than TPKen.

OK….So, I know you are dying to know what was my plan. Simple and age old. Feign huge interest on everything about her. Compliment her til her head was a’spinnin’. Make her feel like she should have been named Sec. of Treasury instead of that bumbling Geitner.

I had a few minutes til they arrived. I ran to the bathroom and practiced all my faces that I would need…….

 For good measure, I doubled up on practicing the sorry face and stepped it up to triple on the confused look.

Soon, Sammi and TPK pulled into the driveway and I ran to the window to size her up. Hiding behind the curtain, I could get a good look at my adversary. She looked to be 3oish from behind but when she turned around, she looked more of a 45-50 old. Her hair was in a ponytail (a ponytail on an auditor?) and she was dressed smartly in a black sweater set and gray slacks. That’s as much as I could take in before I practically got a busted nose and black eye from the door being swung open by TPK. I was feeling a little like Agent 99 from Get Smart except now I was trapped behind the door with no graceful way out. Thank Heavens that TPK shut the door without turning around and he and Sammi started down the hall. If either one of them had shifted their eyes even a few inches, I would have had some hard ’splaining to do. It was bad enough that now I had to figure out how to enter the room, being that I was already IN THE ROOM. In case this is not making sense, let me try to explain the predicament in which I found myself to be.I had chosen a window located on the wall side not the hall side.  I was somewhat saved by a wall that partially blocked me being seen. Once they had turned the corner, I would be home free.

I needed to do some quick thinking. I could either just act indignant as if  TPK had purposely almost pounded my face in with the door. Or ,I could open and shut the door very loudly making it appear that I had been outside and had just come in. In from where, I don’t know. I would just wing that part and have to take into account that my car was obviously sitting in the driveway right beside Sammi’s car.  Not wanting to take the chance that Sammi would automatically assume that TPK was a wife abuser and thus, more likely to commit tax fraud, I chose the latter.

I opened and closed the door and entered  re=enteredremained in the room. When asked where I had been, I just said “outside” in a noncommittal way. Neither Sammi or TPK asked any more questions which was a small miracle considering that it was cold and rainy and I had no jacket or shoes on. I was thankful that I had practiced and memorized the face chart and put on the “content” face.

TPKwas acting uncharacteristically nervous and uncomfortable. Honestly, we were not hiding anything but never having been audited, he nor I knew what to expect. This situation was particularly troublesome since we do our own taxes and I’m the only one with any accounting education (which consist of Accounting 101 and basic math).  We had gathered all of the required forms and information that Sammi had requested and it was stacked up on the kitchen table. Sammi sat down and begin browsing through files and looking very serious. After just a few minutes (which seemed like hours), I went to a cabinet and got out a large ashtray, set it down in front of Sammi and told her to smoke if she wanted. Hell, she could have taken her lighter out and rolled up my place mats if she had wanted. I would have even rolled them up and Scotch taped them into a cigarette shape if it would lighten the mood.  She hesitated saying that she wasn’t suppose to smoke on the job but then gave me a little smile and lit up.  I offered her something to drink. I offered to make coffee but then mentioned that I had some Propel Strawberry flavored water if she would like some. She remarked that it was one of her favorite drinks.  I didn’t tell her that I already knew that because I saw her with a bottle of it in her hand in one of the MySpace pictures. Instead, I just agreed with her that it was the best flavored water on the market.

Then, she got all serious again and took out her calculator. I broke her concentration by complimenting her lovely diamond ring and asked her where did she acquire such a beautiful piece of jewelry. B-I-N-G-O!!!!! I know one thing for sure and that is women love their jewelry. And, having worked in a jewelry store through a couple of Christmas times (and loving jewelry myself), I knew that I had hit her in her weak spot. She told me that the ring was a gift from an ex-boyfriend. OMG! Now, I was on a roll. Those of you who are female know that we just love to talk about jewelry and EX-BOYFRIENDS!!!!! As she went on and on with stories about gifts of jewelry and ex’s, I had the chance to put to use my much practiced facial expressions.

Everything was going great! But then….OUCH!, she actually did come across a big mistake. And, yes, it really was a mistake. It had to do with contract labor. Unreported contract labor. Reporting it would not have cost us one more red cent in taxes, but it still had to be reported. I put on the suprise face (actually, it was real not practiced) and watched TPK fidge nervously in his chair.

So, I offered her some more water, emptied the ashtray, and started admiring her necklace. It didn’t work to totally distract her but it did soften her expression and tone of voice. Fifteen minutes later, she was finishing up her story about another EX and a fight about a trip to Hawaii. I was wearing my “sorry” face.

The audit ended with a warning about reporting contract labor and a promise made by TPKen to be more diligent in reporting it.

So, long story short…..I kissed her ass so hard that I wish I owned stock in ChapStick.

No, not as exciting as Stan’s scenario but it worked and I didn’t have to do anything criminal.

I swear….as soon as this tax season is over, I’m RETIRING!

“edited to add”…..Dear Reader….if you have gotten this far, please read the comments. There are some hilarious comments by  Stan and Steph, among others.

 

===============================

 

I’m too lazy today to write a post. I got these jokes in my email. They are oldies but goodies. I dedicate these to the guys on my blogroll and the guys who are kind enough to comment on a regular basis.

 

My wife walked into the den & asked, “What’s on the TV?” 

I replied “Dust”.

And that’s how the fight started…
==========================

A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.

She is not happy with what she sees and says to her husband, “I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment”

The husband replies, ‘Your eyesight’s damn near perfect.’

And that’s how the fight started…

==============================

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said, ‘I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 200 in about 3 seconds.
I bought her a scale.

And that’s how the fight started…

===============================

I asked my wife, ‘Where do you want to go for our anniversary? ‘

It warmed my heart to see her face melt in sweet appreciation.

‘Somewhere I haven’t been in a long time!’ she said.

So I suggested, ‘How about the kitchen?’

And that’s when the fight started…

============================

My wife and I are watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed. I turned to her and said, ‘Do you want to have sex?’

‘No,’ she answered.

I then said, ‘Is that your final answer?’

She didn’t even look at me this time, simply saying ‘Yes.’

So I said, ‘Then I’d like to phone a friend.’

And that’s when the fight started…

===========================

I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95.

Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.

And that’s when the fight started…

===============================

I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.

‘I’ll have the strip steak, medium rare, please.’

He said, ‘Aren’t you worried about the mad cow?’

Nah, she can order for herself.’

And that’s when the fight started…

I’ve been working on a post this morning. It is about a Pooter Tooter, super-gluing a banana peel to my thumb, cooking, and big bras. As usual, I became Wordy McWord and have not finished it.

So, I decided to post this hilarious email that I got from my nephew’s wife. She sends me the best stuff! Can anybody say, “PEDI-EGG”?

FYI….no, those are not my feet.

 

The Open Toed Shoe Pledge

 

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules
when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:

I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over andtouch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides andtops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.

I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free.
I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.

I will shave the hairs off my big toe.

I won’t wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother,sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck itthere.

If a strap breaks, I won’t duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.

I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl’s if my feet need him.

I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids’ sizes. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.

I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.

I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.

I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they are actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.

I will promise to go to my local nail salon 

at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $35 and worth EVERY penny).I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear… nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.

 

Jelly shoes….I have people in my family who have jelly shoes in every style and color. They wear them with everything, especially Winnie the Pooh and other Disney character t-shirts. “laughing to self”

 

 

 

 

It’s April Fool’s Day and I haven’t done one dadgoneprank on anybody. I usually do and fool several people. But, this year, I was an April Fool wussy. All the buzz about the scary Internet virus made me hesitant and really cautious. Ya see, I couldn’t bring my lazy hiney to actually go out and do something stupid to a real person. Nooooooooo! Like the majority of Americans today, I rely on the Internet to perform childish and immature tricks and hoax. I spent the day going to and fro trying to decide whether to even turn the ol’ Dell on or not. Would THE WORM infect my major means of communication with others?

Maybe, I’ve become a old scaredy cat. Or, could it be that I didn’t want to risk having to buy a new computer considering that I had just bought one a few months ago?

So, to all the people that I have pulled silly pranks on in the past, you are safe. THE WORM protected you this  year.

edited to add……Stan has been commenting on my last several posts. He is sarcastically funny and very smart. Just don’t tell him that. For really good laughs, read all comments posted by Stan. 

I added tags to this post to stuff that is in the comments. So, if you were searching for something and came across this post, please check the comments.

While surfing the internet trying to come up with some new words to use in my battle of the witless with Stan (you are welcome, Stan.  I am sending all of my 4 regular readers to your blog), I came across a page about Fans in Victorian Times. If only life were that simple now! If you want to know more, check out NanaLulu.

I have updated this wonderful article so as to fit my own redneck life and replace the word “fan” with the word “stick”. I do not own a fan but do have plenty of sticks. You may, also, substitue the word “rock“.

 

If a young lady held her stick to her lips, it begged a kiss

Carrying in right hand in front of face meant follow me
Carrying in left hand meant desiring an aquaintance

Dropping it meant friendship only

Drawing it across her eyes meant an apology

The stick placed near the heart signaled You have won my love

Did she hide the eyes behind a big ass stick~ I love you

Opening and closing the sticks several times ~ You are cruel

Drawing through her hand ~ I hate you

Drawing across the eyes ~ I am sorry

Letting the stick rest on the left cheek signaled no
Letting the stick rest on the right cheek signaled yes

Stick  opened wide meant wait for me (Still trying to figure out how to open a stick).

Sticking slowly meant I am married

Sticking quickly meant I am engaged

Twirling the stick in left hand ~ I wish to get rid of you                            
Twirling in right hand ~ I love another

Drawing across the forehead
~ You are being watched ~

Drawing across your forehead…..you’re in for a good ass-whuppin’.

Now, all you ladies, go get your sticks and show the men in your life what you are really thinking!

 

This is a different type of post for me than normal. I usually post serious stuff  (mental health and politics) at my other blog…..BipolarChicksBlogging.  But, I wanted to know what the regular readers and people who frequently comment thought about this video.

My thoughts in it…..It disturbs the hell out of me. Not only did Obama bow, he actually denied it.  His “people” released a comment saying that he was not bowing.  He was bending to shake the hand of a short man!  This man and his people think that we must all be fools.

 

From American Thinker

“Has anyone ever seen Barack Obama publicly bow and bend his knee when meeting someone  prior to yesterday? I don’t recall any photos of such a gesture of greeting, but I would be very happy if some of the President’s defenders on the left could provide such evidence that his striking body language yesterday before the monarch of Saudi Arabia and custodian of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina was simply a habitual gesture of warmth.”

“The American mainstream media apparently paid no heed, and instead focused on Michelle Obama casually touching the Queen of England when introduced to the United Kingdom’s monarch. If anyone has seen MSM paying attention to this signal event, a traditional acknowledgement of fealty, please let me know.

If it was not a gesture of subordination, why did the Saudi King fail to respond with a similar bow?”

Read more at American Thinker.

So, what do y’all think about this?

edited……As with other posts recently, Stan has turned the comments into much more interesting reading than the original post. Go visit Stan and read all about his adventures with my hillbilly, redneck, white trash relatives and me.

I got this in my email today and found it to be extremely interesting. BHO has certainly gotten one thing right…..hiring the best spin doctors around. I’m sad to say that this does not surprise me one tiny bit.

 

“Herewith lies the difference between friendly media spin and reality! Semper Fi Having spoken to some SEAL pals here in Virginia Beach yesterday and asking why this thing dragged out for 4 days, I got the following:

1. BHO wouldn’t authorize the DEVGRU/NSWC SEAL teams to the scene for 36 hours going against OSC (on scene commander) recommendation.

2. Once they arrived, BHO imposed restrictions on their ROE that they couldn’t do anything unless the hostage’s life was in “imminent” danger

3. The first time the hostage jumped, the SEALS had the raggies all sighted in, but could not fire due to ROE restriction.

4. When the navy RIB came under fire as it approached with supplies, no fire was returned due to ROE restrictions. As the raggies were shooting at the RIB, they were exposed and the SEALS had them all dialed in.

5. BHO specifically denied two rescue plans developed by the Bainbridge CPN and SEAL teams

 6. Bainbridge CPN and SEAL team CDR finally decide they have the OpArea and OSC authority to solely determine risk to hostage. 4 hours later, 3 dead raggies

7. BHO immediately claims credit for his “daring and decisive” behaviour.

As usual with him, it’s BS. So per our last email thread, I’m downgrading Oohbaby’s performace to D-. Only reason it’s not an F is that the hostage survived. Read the following accurate account.

 Philips’ first leap into the warm, dark water of the Indian Ocean hadn’t worked out as well. With the Bainbridge in range and a rescue by his country’s Navy possible, Philips threw himself off of his lifeboat prison, enabling Navy shooters onboard the destroyer a clear shot at his captors — and none was taken.

 The guidance from National Command Authority — the president of the United States, Barack Obama — had been clear: a peaceful solution was the only acceptable outcome to this standoff unless the hostage’s life was in clear, extreme danger. The next day, a small Navy boat approaching the floating raft was fired on by the Somali pirates — and again no fire was returned and no pirates killed. This was again due to the cautious stance assumed by Navy personnel thanks to the combination of a lack of clear guidance from Washington and a mandate from the commander in chief’s staff not to act until Obama, a man with no background of dealing with such issues and no track record of decisiveness, decided that any outcome other than a “peaceful solution” would be acceptable.

 After taking fire from the Somali kidnappers again Saturday night, the onscenecommander decided he’d had enough. Keeping his authority to act in the case of a clear and present danger to the hostage’s life and having heard nothing from Washington since yet another request to mount a rescue operation had been denied the day before, the Navy officer — unnamed in all media reports to date — decided the AK47 one captor had leveled at Philips’ back was a threat to the hostage’s life and ordered the NSWC team to take their shots. Three rounds downrange later, all three brigands became enemy KIA and Philips was safe

. There is upside, downside, and spinside to the series of events over the last week that culminated in yesterday’s dramatic rescue of an American hostage. Almost immediately following word of the rescue, the Obama administration and its supporters claimed victory against pirates in the Indian Ocean and [1] declared that the dramatic end to the standoff put paid to questions of the inexperienced president’s toughness and decisiveness

. Despite the Obama administration’s (and its sycophants’) attempt to spin yesterday’s success as a result of bold, decisive leadership by the inexperienced president, the reality is nothing of the sort. What should have been a standoff lasting only hours — as long as it took the USS Bainbridge and its team of NSWC operators to steam to the location — became an embarrassing four day and counting standoff between a ragtag handful of criminals with rifles and a U.S. Navy warship.”

Stay tuned for more Bedtime With Barry Stories….Tales for the Whole Family

Such as…..

Barry and Hugo Go To The Library

Barry Learns to Bow for The Prince

Barry Apologizes For His Country’s Greatness

and 47 other wonderful stories with morals for the whole family! Get your limited edition today. Send 5 billion dollars to Czar of Publications, 600 Pennsylvinia Ave. Washington D.C.

Have a piece of delicious warm and gooey shitcake, Barry…….

 

Well, dear readers, once again, there is more than meets the eye here. Barry and The Pirates has become the lesser of two stories. The real story is the smackdown brawl in the comments. Here’s your opportunity to be the judge. Who’s winning the war of comment words? Vote now and I will send you a  nice American made pair of No Spin Zone undies.

DISCLAIMER……I really am not going to give you anything much less NSZ bloomers. I don’t actually have any and if I did I’d sell them on eBay.

 Yeah…I’m at it again!

This, actually, started as a comment on my last post but was getting Wordy McWord worthy (say that real fast 5 times). So, since I haven’t posted anything “real” for a few days, it has become a post about “this and that” plus MORE!

It’s hard to admit this but sometimes I buy stupid books by stupid celebrities writing about stupid things. The latest waste of money as Tori Spelling’s whiny ass book about how hard her life as been. As if that were not a big enough waste of money, I bought Kathy Lee Gifford’s book. KLG’s book is much better than whiny-ass Tori’s book. But, both are a serious waste of money.

Question 1….Why do “celebretards” write books about themselves?
Question 2….(more important)…why do suckers like me buy them?
Question 3…..will these books resell to other suckers on eBay? You bet your hiney they will! Otherwise, I’d not spend one red cent on them.

So, I don’t feel like I wasted my money because I am sure to get it back from some poor sucker (like me) that will buy it on eBay. The one thing that I do not understand is why people will bid and pay more for these books on eBay than if they went to WalMart and bought them. 

I think there might be a few explanations as to why they buy them on eBay rather than WalMart:

1. They don’t want to take the chance of being seen in line holding a book that cannot be disguised due to the huge celebretard’s pics on them.

2. They don’t want to waste their own money so instead pay out of their companies’ expense accounts (if any one is lucky enough to have one of those now).

3. They buy them and then have them shipped to someone else (who is apparently not in their good graces).

Whatever the reason, celeberetards do write them and do make sinfully large piles of money on them.

I need to run out and buy a bday present for my SIL. Hey….maybe, I could just give her the sTori and KLG books! Well, at least I did buy a real Hallmark  birthday card this year. Making one with construction paper and Elmer’s glue doesn’t cut it anymore. Last year, she saw thru the “Hallmark” that I wrote with a magic marker. And, the $4.99 price tag didn’t dry before I stuck it in the contact paper envelope and smudged. Although, she was gracious, I saw the “she’s finally gone off the deep (and cheapass) end of the crazy cliff” look on her face.

Pretty weather is finally here. Last week, we got hit by a thunder/snow/hail/rain storm that was downright scary. This time I stayed the heck away from the windows. During the last storm like this, I made the big mistake of standing at my bedroom window watching all the unpredictable weather cycles. In a blink of an eye, I heard a horrendous CRAAACKING shotgun-like noise and simultaneously saw lightening strike a tree right outside the window….about 6 feet from where I was standing. I was frozen in my tracks as a 12 inch wide section of bark was burnt off of the tree  from the ground all the way to the top. I was seriously grateful to God that the lightening missed me. That was a frightening experience that I hope to never go thru again.

Last year around this time, I wrote a post about my attempts to plant grass while trying to fool my husband into thinking that I had nothing to do with a strange appearance of green growth here and there in our otherwise dustbowl of a yard.

 I SMUGGLED GRASS BECAUSE I HAD TO. I regretfully report that I am forced to do this again. There has been a constant battle of the grass going on here for almost three years now. DH (who I might have mentioned a time or two in the past is seriously OCD) insist that all things must be done according to his plans.I, of course, disagree with him. Tell me, who wouldn’t? The man is insane. Only a crazy person would forbid planting grass until his scheduled alloted time to landscape and plant grass. Here’s the problem that I’m having with his schedule….grass planting is not on the list until 2012 or thereabouts.

So, I do the only thing that a sane person trying to avoid loud arguments and the throwing of  household items at him would do…..I’m still sneaking in the grass seeds one pocket at a time. OK, I know! I know! I can hear y’all mumbling under your breath…”She’s the nutjob. Why doesn’t she just put her foot down and insist on sowing the seeds?”

I am aware that would be what the normal person would do. (Normal? What’s normal. It’s a cycle on a washing machine.) OK….not normal. Average. That is what the average person would do. But, I have to admit that I feel a little naughty every time I put that grass seed in my pocket and casually throw it on the ground when he’s just a few feet away with his back to me. I feel…well….REBELLIOUS! It’s the same feeling that I get when he actually measures each end of the sofa to make sure that it is the same distance from the wall and I wait until he walks away and give it a little shove….just a tad so that I’ll know that it is not perfectly positioned. What can I say? It’s my little walk on the wild side! Sorta takes me back to wilder and less complicated times in my life.

I’ll admit that I’m still a long way from having the lush green lawn with flowering shrubs of my dreams. But, everytime I look at those sparse little patches of green struggling to poke up through the dry dustbowl of a yard, I feel a certain amount of pride….and maybe, the need for a little spanking.  Who’d thunk grass seeds could bring about so much emotion?

I’ve been terribly busy and have not had any spare time to blog. But, early this evening, something took place and I feel compelled to report on it.

At one of my friends (d@bipolarchicksblogging ,who happens to have a great post on the swine flu) suggestion, I gave in and joined Twitter. Now, I have to say right up front that I could not begin to understand the interest or usefulness, for that matter, of Twitter. I figured that anybody who wanted to know what I was doing, what I was thinking, where I was going, etc. were already family, close friend,probation officer, or court appointed guardian and knew all that stuff about me already and didn’t have to go to Twitter to find out.

(JK about the probate officer and guardian……they don’t know what I’m doing)

All this mass communication is stressing me OUT!  Checking my email has become a chore. My inbox is totally full of “so and so” wants you to join Facebook/MySpace/PeopleWhoThinkJaneaneGarofaloIsAnUnwashedIdiot/etc. is keeping me hunched over either reading or deleting for waaaay too long. Not to mention all of the emailomercials for Viagra,”make big money at home”, and “studly singles in your area” . Just had a thought…..Viagra, make money at home, and studly singles…..hmmmmm……am I the target of hardened prostitutes trying to recruit me?

 Anyway, back to Twitter. Upon checking one of my email accounts today, I discovered that I had oodles and oodles of unread mail. I’m tellin’ ya and ya need to believe me…..I’ve been really BUSY! I started to just hit “delete all” but didn’t really want to take the chance of getting rid of something that I needed to read. And, sure enough, there was something that I needed to read.

The architect himself, Karl Rove is following me on Twitter!!!!!!!

At first I figured that it was just one of those things where some idiot (hmmm…like me) makes up or takes on a false name. I check Karl out and he was for real.

The email concerned the recent hooplah in the press about the infamous TORTURE DOCUMENTS!  Mr. Rove (or Archy as I like to call him)  was urging all readers to go read the actual documents about torture before we made up out minds about it. Seriously, I had already made my mind up. When we resort to beheadings  (think Daniel Pearl) and cutting off arms and legs, I just might rethink my positon. Meanwhile, my position is we should be allowed to do anything short of killing the American-hating, mass mudering scumbags  in order to get information out of them that could prevent thousands of deaths (think Twin Towers). Truthfully, I hold out on the death action only because dead terrorists can’t talk.

I read the documents and I WANT YOU TO READ THEM TO!!!! So, here is a link.

I have a few comments on the means of torture.

1. Attention grasp….Do ya ever remember when your Mom got really fed up with you acting out or fighting with your brothers and sisters? She would grab ya on either side of your face, look directly into your eyes and say ,”OK, that’s just about enough of this, little lady/man!”

That’s the attention grasp in a nutshell.

2. Walling…..a person is placed with his heels touching a flexible wall. In effect, the person is pulled forward and allowed to fall backward, thus creating a LOUD NOISE and perhaps providing a shock (not electrical) to the person’s senses.

Well, rootytootpoot…..This is nothing new. Haunted houses have used this action for as long as I can remember to scare the bejeezus out of paying customers. Nobody that I have ever known has suffered long lasting consequences from this. Crikeys….those terrorists are real sissy boys. BOO! Now, go cry titty-babies!!!!

2.Facial slap. (insult slap)…hands are open with fingers spread. Face is slaped lightly using fingers only.

Seriously, folks….is this really torture? Girlie-men have slapped liked this for as long as I can remember.

5. Cramped confinement….cramped confinement? Talk to the Octomom’s kids about cramped confinement!

6. Wall standing….Sheeeyut…we were made to do this in high school gym class.

7. Sleep deprivation…This reminds me of something…let me think. Oh yeah……the first 3 months of both of my daughter’s lives.‘

8. Stress positions….These must have been taken from the Karma Sutra

9. Insects in box….A CATERPILLAR? Nuff said…for explanation, read the documents.

10. The waterboard…..Admittedly not pleasant but used for years by fraternaties in hazing. Also, used by my older brothers on me and my sister for sheer entertainment. My mom would then do the “attention grasp” on each of them, make them do a little “wall standing” and  then put them in “cramped confinement”.

So, that&#