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.

i before e except after c

weird?

This is not a book review. It is a question.

Anybody out there reading Stephen King’s new book, Under The Dome?

This is a big-ass book…..1074 pages.

I am on page 181.

It feels like deja’ vu. Hmmmm…..where have I seen or read about a town that got covered by a dome?

AHA! The Simpson’s Movie. Springfield.

My question is…..if anybody out there has read past page 181, when (or does) it stop bearing a remarkable resemblance to the Simpson’s Movie? I love Stephen King and have read all of his books with the exception of the Towers or whatever the name of the series.

I don’t want to keep reading this book and be disappointed by it being like the Simpson’s Movie all the way thru it. And, if a ceiling walking pig shows up, that’s it. No more S. King for me.

So, any readers? Help a fellow King fan out here, would ya?!

If you’re like me, you’ve just got too many darn people on your Christmas list. With the economy in the toilet, who can afford those fancy department store presents?

So, once again, I have toiled til the wee hours in front of my computer to help you to be able to make wonderfully delightful Christmas gifts for all on your list. I’ve strived my hardest to cover everyone from Grandma to the postman. Here goes….2009 White Trash/Homemade/Cheap Christmas Gifts Part One….

There is always at least one female with  FPF ( floppy poontang flaps) for which to buy a gift on my list (or yours). Maybe, it’s Vera whose name you drew at the office. Or, maybe, LuElla, your best friend since first grade. And, if like me, you have checked the price of vaginal re-molding and tucking, you know that it’s simply too expensive to give. I did my research, though, so you don’t have to spend countless hours trying to find a Mexican clinic with a guy who claims to be Doctor Juan A. Titerjajay. Instead, I present to you….. 

Femtone vaginal weights  tone pelvic floor muscles to protect against incontinence, and can increase the strength of your orgasms! These vaginal “barbells” are the perfect product for kegel exercises. Get this hard-to-find kegal exerciser at ShopInPrivate.com.

But, hold the phone, Nelly…it gets better…..

No need to shell out $124.99!  No! No! No! You can make your own for less than a fraction of that cost! I made my own and YOU can, too. Simply, go to a Tru-Valu Hardware store and you will find a gazillion hardware items in varying weights to substitute for the store-bought 5 cones. Just to give you an idea, here are the items that I purchased.

gravel stones….these come in varying shapes and sizes

windchimes….so many assorted to pick from! (optional)

bolts….every size, shape, and weight that you can think of are available

cheesecloth (you can use velvet for that special feel but you will have to go somewhere other than the hardware store)

blank video /dvd/cd

Start with some small gravel. You might want to use a kitchen scale to weigh these. Or, take them to your local post office where they will weigh anything. This could be a slight bit tricky unless you are very, very, very good friends with the recipient of the gift since you will have to use your own judgement as to weight and size of the gravel “needed” to be effective.

Cut a piece of cheesecloth (or velvet). Then, wrap the chosen gravel in the material and tie with a Ziplock Sandwich tie. Be thoughtful and cut off the excess tie. Those things could cause some poonana scratches and we don’t want that. Lawsuits are rampant in these hard times. Who wants to lose the farm because of  “an internal scratch”?

Next, choose some bolts that are heavy but small enough to wrap in cheesecloth (or velvet!). Use the above instructions about cheesecloth/velvet/Ziplock ties.

 Once again, I must remind you that this is a very personalized gift and it is your duty to know approximately the size of bolts or gravel that your gift recipient will require.

 Optional windchimes……I found these to make a delightful and soothing sound. Pick a windchime and simply cut off  however many you choose. These should be wrapped up with the bolts. Your floppy flapped friend/relative/neighbor/co-worker will remember your thoughtfullness everytime that she uses these!

Last step….insert blank dvd/cd/video into camera or camcorder. Insert homemade vaginal weights into your own “friend”. Turn on recorder. WARNING: It is important that you use the zoom lens. Otherwise, your face/boobs/butt/etc. will be eternally recorded on your dvd/cd/video and may become as well-known as Carrie Prejean’s. Now….kegel to you just can’t kegel no more.

 WARNING: THIS IS NOT RECOMMENDED FOR ANYONE WHO SUFFERS FROM INCONTINENCE. KEEP ALL ELECTRICAL APPLIANCES AWAY FROM WET SURFACES. NOT FOR CHILDREN. NOT FOR RESALE. NOT ADVISED FOR ANYONE SUFFERING FROM MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER, BIPOLAR DISORDER, MAJOR DEPRESSION DISORDER, SEASONAL AFFECTIVE DISORDER, DEPERSONALIZATION DISORDER, OR THE VERY OBESE.

Small print stuff….TPB does not assume any responsiblity for injury to body or reputation while using this product.

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.

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!!!!