And Furthermore…

Right.  I haven’t been around in months.  And will likely be scarce for a while longer. 

Handy-Dandy bullet list of the latest and greatest happenings around this place:

• New job.  Finally had to stop the insanity of being gone all the time.  Was running in circles and going bat-shit crazy.
• New home.  Yah, with the new job came ALOT less money.  We ended up losing our home and having to move.
• This is why I’m scarce.  We moved to a po-dunker county in the hills (literally).  Not that this is a bad thing, but they ain’t go that danged ol DSL yet.  Ech.
• My kids have flown the coop.  They call and write but in order to lay eyes on them, I must travel 45 miles one way, up hill both ways to see them.

I’ll be back as soon as Bell South/ATT get off their asses and add us t civilization and get DSL in our neck of these here hills.

Hugs to all y’all.

Killer Kool-Aid, Ditchin Econ & Krystal Burgers

I can’t resist a cutsie little meme for days when my brain just won’t cooperate.

This is one of them there days.

I was slapped right on the ass by Michelle at Acheiving New Balance.  I loved her answers.  She was a damn rebel back in the day.  You go girl!

Fill this out about your SENIOR year of high school!  The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be. Change the subject to the year you graduated.

1. Who was your best friend(s)?    This crazy bitch named Linda.  She graduated a year ahead of me, but she came almost everyday for lunch and we were always out creating havoc on weekends.

 

2. What sports did you play? I played nothing, I tell ya, nothing.  I played Volleyball my freshman year before I got pregnant and had to do homeschooling for a semester.

 

3. What kind of car did you drive? I had a super-un-cool Datsun hatchback.  But it was all mine.

4. It’s Friday night, where were you? Normally out running the roads with Linda.  Then we’d end up at one of our houses.

5. Were you a party animal? I won’t say I was a party animal.  I was a stupid kid though.  The few times we did party, we got stupid.  All I can say is that to this day, the smell of Fruit Punch makes me throw up a little bit.

6. Were you considered a flirt?  No, by the time I was a senior, I already had a kid and I was hooked up with Pizza Boy and about to get married as soon as I graduated…..  ooops.

7. Ever skip school?  I ditched 6th period so much that I had to scrap together a shit pot of extra credit essays in Economics just to get to graduate.  Mrs. Bressler absolutely hated me by the time the end of the year came and only passed me so I wouldn’t come back.

8. Were you a nerd?  I wasn’t anything really… Not a nerd, not a jock, not a goth, not one of the popular kids…. I just kind of blended in…

9. Were you in any clubs? Nope.  I was too busy being stuck up Pizza Boy’s ass to give a crap about anything that might increase my chances of being successful later in life.

 
10. Did you get suspended/expelled? I got in school suspension a couple of times my senior year for ditching 6th period.

11. Can you sing the fight song? Uhhhh, I’m guessing that we probably had one, but I don’t have a clue what the name of it was…

12. Who was your favorite teacher?  Mr. MacPherson.  And the man is still there.  My kid has his American History class this semester.  He was a cool cat back then, and apparently is still one of the favorites of today’s whippersnappers too.

13. Favorite class?  I was diggin Film/Theater Studies.  All we did was watch classic movies.  This class first introduced me to Gone With the Wind, Casablanca and West Side Story.

14. What was your schools full name? Powell High School (pretty  boring, eh?)

15. School mascot?

16. Did you go to dances?  Nope.  The asshat Pizza Boy didn’t do dances or any kind of silly “kid crap”. He was more about gettin high and gettin laid.
17. If you could go back and do anything over, would you? I would have been a kid.  Not all serious about Pizza Boy.   I would have been a flirt, went to football games and dances…  like a normal kid.

18. What do you remember most about graduation?  Oh Lawd, I’m so sick of saying his name, but he was a mainstay my senior year…. I remember that dick didn’t bother to show up at my graduation because he had gotten stoned and ended up watching cartoons all day.
19. Did you have a job your senior year? Yep, I worked at the Krystal.  And to this day, I want to puke when I smell a Krystal burger.

20. Are you going to your ten year reunion?  My 10 year has come and gone… twice… OMG.  I’m getting old.  My 20 year reunion would have been this year, but the ditzy bitch (Besty, yes her name was Betsy) who was class President was a flake then and apparently is still a flake now… Our class hasn’t had a single reunion….  And no, I would most likely not go.

Glass Half Full, Missy

Just wanted to share with you guys how blessed I am in life as a whole.  

I have a loving husband, wonderful kids, close friends, and great life that they share with me.

Every single one of you know me well enough to know that, in general, I have always been the one to look at the glass as half empty.

I don’t know why I am like that.

Then one day I was talking to my Mom about the job change situation and the fact that I was feeling like the company was stealing the last nine years of my life and now it’s over.

My Mom told me to look at all of the good things that have come from working there for so long. 

I got to do things I’d have never gotten the opportunity to do otherwise, learned things that I will carry with me in the rest of my working career, met people I would have never otherwise met and been places that I may have never had the chance to go.

It’s amazing how just how much of a difference one’s outlook on one’s situations can totally change one’s attitude. Just accepting that change is part of life that we can’t do anything about and giving it over to God can take so much of the weight off of your shoulders.

Psalms 55:22  ‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.’

Now I’m not saying that things will always be cotton balls and kittens.

I’m not saying there won’t be worries and conflicts.

What I am saying is that we can take the things that are happening in our lives (and we all have them going on), and use them as growing experiences and know that in a nutshell that’s all they are.

Anyway, I’m not writing a sermon here.   My girlfriend Becky just forwarded me the Psalm and it made things click for me today.

Bourbon St., My Best Friend Jack & Prom

Just a well thought out decision to cut the sarcasm and verbal diarrhea to an occassional thing rather than “homework”.

Narm, the White-Collar Redneck, so eloquently bottled the essence when he said that when it becomes homework, it just ain’t fun anymore.

Work has kicked me in the butt.  It seems like I’m traveling around more than I’m home lately.  Not that I’m complaining.  I love the big bathtubs and fluffy hotel pillows.

My latest escaped was to New Orleans.  Yay, New Orleans.  My second favorite place to party in the world…  right behind Vegas.

Big T met me in Birmingham and we took a little roadtrip.  Pleasure mixed in with business.

I think it’s the fact that the place is below sea level that contributed to the fact that the first night out on Bourbon St.  I got tanked after only a handful of beer.  But, I blended in with all the other drunk monkeys.

Highlights of the trip..

5-Star Dinner at Arnaud’s.

Sang in yet another karaoke bar.  The Saloon.

We watched the riverboats.

And saw the most amazing band (just can’t recall their name, oops).

Next stop was Lynchburg, Tennessee.  Home of MY BEST FRIEND JACK.

They don’t allow pictures on the property.  Which I understand.

God forbid I come home and try to make my own sugar maple barrels and age my own special whiskey.

Lastly, Miss A is all growed up folks.

She attended her prom this past Saturday.  She looked like a princess.

Woo! Graduation in 2 weeks.  Go, Miss A!

Auf Wiedersehen, Au Revoir, Ciao

Hello My Dear Bloggin Friends,

Until my life slows down to where I can keep up, drama subsides, Miss A graduates, the boy gets his head out of his ass, Ms. N figures out what to do with her life, my grandparents chill out, my job slows down…..

I must be scarce.

Hopping on and posting some kind of crap for the sake of posting some kind of crap without having any time to visit anybody else  SUCKS.

And makes me a bad blogger.

To all of you and yours, I hope you are well and remain that way.

Renegades, Rebels & Rednecks

It’s been a while, even with the excuses, since I’ve been around.

Way too long.  So, I’m not piled up in a Hilton, as I thought I would be. 

It’s the Imperial Sheraton.  Fluffy bed.  Yay.

Anyway, I figure, since I’ve been asked several times who’s who in my little world (since I talk shit about everybody around me), that I would take a minute to introduce my cast of characters.

Big T-  My soul mate, partner in crime.  The man I waited 36 years for.  He’s OCD about his collections… which include guns, knifes, guitars, bass, and any other string instrument, rings and DVDs.  To date, he has more than 2000 movies… mostly B-rated shit that nobody will ever even watch, but they are there… in all their glory.  His dry wit and snapping sarcasm are a plus.

Miss N- The eldest spawn of my loins.  She is officially a single mom again as of about a month ago and has moved her happy ass back in with Mommy.  She is easy to mess with and extremely gullible.  She is on a mission to lose weight and start over with a diet of Natural Light beer and salad (no dressing). 

Miss A- The youngest spawn of my loins.  She is sneaky and getting better at it.  Freshly18 and reminding me of it daily, she has aspirations of graduating high school and  hitting up the college scene, undoubtedly for the social aspect of it.  She’s smart and she’ll pull it off.   I expect one day to see her photography in some sort of journalistic form or another.

Lil T- The apple of my eye.  My little monster.  My first grandbaby.  The child who failed to go through the terrible 2’s when he was two, only for it to catch up with him oh so close to his 4th birthday.  A lover of the local park and feeding the ducks.   The boy wants every thing that he sees on TV, therefore, Nana has greatly limited his TV time in order to save her wallet.

The Boy- The son of Big T, my stepson.  The kid who makes me want to rip out my hair and/or run wildly into the woods so I can scream at the top of my lungs about how insane he makes me.  This child is a senior in high school and still has to be told every hour or two to take his dog out to pee.  His room smells like a kennell gone mad.  I’ll leave it to your imagination how dispicable his damn carpet looks.

The Drunk One- My sister.  Granted, she is going through a hard time, but DAYUM.  I put my fair share of beer away on the weekends.  The girl can drink me under the table, over the table and, most likely, around the table.  Drama queen extrordinaire.  The world would NOT turn if a situation were to arise that doesn’t directly revolve around her.

That’s the first installment of my family tree. 

I’m going to pile up in the 5 pillows on this fluffy bed, eat my Mr. Goodbar, suck down this Diet Coke and read me some blogs.

Peace out Woodiggles.

Excuses, Excuses, Excuses

I have way too many exuses to even start explaining where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing, but what the hell….

 My sister is in town.  And it appears she’s staying.   I’ll give the Campbell’s Condensed version here.

Her husband is a rock-gut, beer swiggin, lying, cheating whore of a man who can’t seem to keep himself out of jail.

This is a man who got so drunk that when he jumped on his busted-up Harley, that he didn’t see the Hummer stopped in front of him, plowed into the back of it, and ended up in intensive care for 5 months. 

Got out of the hospital, told not to drink, sucked down a case anyway, got in a fight with the neighbor and ended up in prison (for 2 years). 

Since he got out of prision, he’s been in and out of county lock-up for a number of silly things.  Mainly fueled by his friend, Alcohol.

So, last time he got locked-up, a month ago, instead of bailing his looser ass out, she packed her stuff and moved from there to here.  Good for her.

Don’t get me wrong, drinking a cold beer or several can be fun.  Can make one giggle or sing karaoke better.  But, only when one is smart enough to know how to act when one is consuming cold beer.

So, that’s one of the many excuses.

The other is that my dip-wad sister, who is continuously stalking her idiot since she left by checking his email and voicemail (can you say GET OVER IT ALREADY) is driving me absolutely bat-shit-crazy.

Therefore, blogging (spewing venom) didn’t seem like such a good idea since I have nothing nice or positive to say.

I hope next week, when I’ll be out of town all week, to find some peace and serenity in my nice fluffy Hilton bed to stretch out with my laptop and catch up with you guys.

Hugs.

The Wal-Mart, Tampons & Perverts

Is there anything more exciting than going to the grocery store? 

 

By grocery store, of course I mean Hell Wal-Mart.

 

Hell Wal-Mart, although created and maintained by Satan himself, is still the one stop shopping spot when one is nearly out of everything in one’s house.

 

Where else can you go get an air-filter for the heat pump, cat food, a gallon of paint in sunburst orange, tampons and frozen pizza all in one place?

 

Well, I suppose you get actually get everything at a regular grocery story but the paint.

And I could have gone to Lowe’s for that, but where’s the fun in that? 

 

Wal-Mart on a Sunday afternoon is not fun. 

 

There are way too many bratty kids running wild up and down the aisles.  They are either screaming for something they want… or screaming about something they didn’t get.

 

To this I say… shock collar.  It will shut the little whiner up.

 

I talked my sister into accompanying me on this little Sunday afternoon escapade.  She apprehensively agreed.

 

I’m not sure if it’s just my local Wal-Mart or if it’s all of them.  But I’ve totally noticed; some of the people who work there are just not friendly looking.

 

And just yesterday, I found out a perv works in our version of hell.

 

Me & the sis get to the check out counter and are standing there waiting for this dude to ring up our paint, tampons, frozen pizza & cat food. 

 

He was sort of just running the things over the scanner with this goofy-half-assed-smile on his face.   Freaky boy looked almost orgasmic.  Like he had a blow up doll under his register or something.

 

Then I realized what he was goofy-half-assed-smiling about.

 

He was looking down my sister’s shirt.

 

I realized this when he told her the total for her stuff and he talked to her tits instead of looking up at her.

 

Now, I don’t dig perverts.  Especially when they’re using a family member as their potential wet dream.

 

And I didn’t mean to be rude… well, yes, actually I did… when I said:

“Hey, brother.  Here eyes are up there.”

Little Man, State Troopers & PeePee

Right….  so, here I am…. today.

I’m absolutely exhausted…. Waaaaa.  Poor, poor me, eh?

No more whining.  Swear.

Just got back from a quickie run to Asheville, NC.  Lovely little city, what I saw of it anyway. 

Left the house at 5:00am, got there at 7:00, worked until 2:45, drove home… now I’m indulging in a nice cold beverage. 

This was not exactly my most shining and happy roadtrip to date. 

That said, it’ll go down as one of the most memorable.

I almost took out a little car while changing lanes whilst trying to  make my way back to the interstate and found out exactly what road rage can be. 

This little dude, and when I say little, I mean 4ft2 would be me being generous…  he followed me all the way OUT OF ASHEVILLE to the exit I stopped at for petrol.

I mean, I got the message loud and totally clear when he whipped it around me blowing his little bitty horn and slingin the finger all over the place.

Was that enough for him??

Why, no.  As a matter of fact it wasn’t.

Anyway, he jumps out of his car yelling and screaming about women drivers.    (Oh, hell no..)  But, he did.

And then goes on to tell me, that not only are women bad drivers, that women shouldn’t be allowed to drive big trucks (Oh, hell no he didn’t).  But, he did.

I just stood there, staring past him, at his little Rabbit car.  Then gave him a good luck from toe to the top of his head, and snickered.

I wanted to tell him that at least he bought a car for a man of his size, but he needs to remember that he shouldn’t ride in folks blind spot… especially if he doesn’t want some hateful bitch in a big black truck to run his punk ass off the road. 

But, I didn’t.  I refrained.

I just snickered a little and apologized (which after his bullshit, was totally insincere). 

Which turned out to be good enough to insult him.  Because he got  back into his little putter car and went away without saying another word.

Then, crossing back into the great state of Tennessee, I blew past a trooper.  Ooops.

At least I was holding the wheel at 10 and 2, wearing my seatbelt, and wasn’t on the phone or anything which would have really pissed him off.

My lucky day…. until about 50 miles from home I was dying.

God, I had to pee.  Like my eyeballs were floating from that mambo sized 44 ounce Diet Coke with crushed ice that I just had to suck down….

Then I sneezed.  And I pee’d a little in my pants.

I know.  TMI.

Haven’t you ever done that?

So, in short.  My cup runneth over with my to-do list, but I acquired a new laptop so with any luck, I should be at least a little more frequent in keep up with all of ya!

Cheerio kiddies!

Scams, Shams & Snowjobs

Scam- swindle.  

Sham- artificial/counterfeit.  

Snow Job-  misrepresentation.

 

So, I was talking about all of the business that’s sucking under here in Knoxville before life threw me a huge curve-ball and I had to go on hiatus.

Sad, but true.

What’s even more sad is what Goody’s and Circuit City and countless others who are sucking into the deep, dark abyss are doing to try to make the bottom line at the end of the day not look as shitty as it really is.

This is a shopping experience that I got to go through after listening to Big T’s dad.

Now, Big T’s dad is a frugal dude.  And not a quiet, passive individual at all.

He has been an avid follower of the same Goody’s store for a long time.  The shopping center where Goody’s is located is where he does his daily walk.

One day he found a pair of leather shoes he was diggin on alot, but he refuses to buy anything that isn’t marked down as low as it will go.

They were $39.99. 

To date, he’d been watching this pair of leather shoes for more than a month.    They were never marked down.

Well, when Goody’s announced they were going bust, they also announce their big 30 – 60% off sale.

Awesome deals to be found… at least one would think.

Not.So.Much.

So, Dad was taking his daily walk and sauntered in to see what kind of a deal he was gonna get on those shoes. 

NO DEAL!

The price had been jacked up to $72.00 and then discounted down to $43.20. 

HUH?

But they were originally 39.99, you say.

When he brought it up with the manager, she basically told him to go blow and sent him packing.

No explanation, no shoes for Pops.