Archive for the Farts & other Foul Stenches Category

Toilet Paper Shortage, Febreeze & Pissin a River

Posted in Farts & other Foul Stenches on June 25, 2011 by catscratch

I’m not sure.  It might just be me.  But, bathroom etiquette has taken a dive right down the bowl.

Why exactly can’t people put a new roll of toilet paper on the little toilet paper holder when the roll is empty?  Seriously, it’s within reach.  Go ahead, throw that empty little cardboard whirlie in the trash and put a nice new fluffy roll on there.  It seems like I’m always going in there (at home, at work, at my friend’s, at my Dad’s place) to an empty roll…  Conspiracy? 

Yet another poo peave near and dear to my fart is the smell of Febreeze or any other fake flowery scent.  Not that those roses in a can are completely useless.  But, is it really necessary to spray half a can of it after taking a crap?  Do folks really think that it helps the stink?  Trust me, it does not.  

This seems to be more of a chick thing than a guy thing…  I mean, guys really don’t give a crap if a green fog follows them from the potty room…  But women… Good Lord.  For some reason when a girl comes out after making a poo, it’s not just the poo smell… it’s rose covered poo.  For the love of God, please, if you must spray, make it a quick burst of air fresh… not the whole can. 

Lastly, and this is a direct command to my step-son, PLEASE close the damn door when you take a wiz.  I’m all the way down the hall, with the TV blaring some brilliant show on History or Discovery or someother nerdy network… and I can still hear you pissin.  What’s with that?  Why can’t you take the .22 seconds that it takes to close the door before you whip it out and let it fly?  Really.

Wasabi Peas, Loud Farts & Sperm

Posted in Bling Bling, Bloggers Lane, Farts & other Foul Stenches, It's All About MeMeMe Beeeyach!, Lame and stupid crap on July 23, 2008 by catscratch

First – I just know you wanna see a picture of Big T’s knee after the knee replacement.  He’s up.  He’s walking.  And he’s as annoying as ever.  So, basically, he’s just fine and will only get better.

But for you sick individuals who love blood and surgical scars… here ya go.

Yuckie, huh….

Evil Twins Wife bestowed upon me the coolest lil ditty I’ve seen out there for a long, long time.

Now I’d seen it floating around various bloggies on the internetz, but didn’t think I was one of those kids who is cool enough to get it.

Honestly, I had aspirations to go and snatch it off of somebody else’s blog and just post it.  BUT, that ain’t cool.

My nephew has always told me… “Auntie… patience, patience wins the race.”

And I always wanted to smack the shit out of him for it, but he’s cute, so I didn’t.

Turns out this time he was right.  I win the race.  ETW seems to thinks I’m “funny as hell”.

That said, I say THANK YOU!  You should click go visit her cuz she’s Domestic Godess Numero Uno!

I shall pass this treasure on to five….  So, y’all come ‘n get it….

Steve – Rainbows Refect Rays of the Sun – This dude’s poetry is amazing and it makes me all warm and fuzzy when I need it and it makes me dark and sad when I need it.  He gots a gift.

Groovy Mom – Now is Good – Adorable, karaoke bar fly.  Just adorable.

Mikie – Tongue in Check – Shoot from the hip, all out sarcasm.  And lots of tits and ass.

#1 & #2 – Holy Crappers.  Beer.  Need I say more.  Beeeeeer.

Random Chick – Confessions of a Random Chick – Ok. So, she already has this award.  But it’s supposed to be passed to them folks that inspire and make one think.  She makes me think about pee and drinkin and crashing parties and drinking and other fun things.  Besides that, she’s one of my best bloggin chums.

Now the fun part.   As if you’re not getting a laugh a minute up in here…. THE MEME… cuz everybody who comes by should know by default….. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME BITCH!

Yah yah... the rules.
1. Link the person(s) who tagged you (That would be Evil Twins Wife)

2. Mention the rules on your blog (This is them!)

3. Tell about 5 unspectacular quirks of yours… 

4. Tag 5 following bloggers by linking them… (totally optional here kids)

5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

And here they are in no particular order.

A- The thought of sperm makes me wanna yack.  It’s just EEEEEWWWWWW.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love penis, but keep that thing away from my eyesight when it unloads.  Know what I mean?

B- I am a lover of cold beer and wasabi peas.  I highly suggest.

C- You’ll love this.  I’m a fart master.  I know, I know.  Your image of me as a lovely, well mannered lady is now officially just a stench in the wind.  They are loud, but not stinky.  It’s a way to get attention when ya need to make a toast or an announcement, like tapping your wine glass with a little spoon.

D- I carry my camera everywhere.  It’s always either in my car or in my purse.  I mean seriously, you never know when somebody might do something that you can hold over them forever if you catch it digitally.

E- I’m addicted to school.  Yes, at nearly 40, I’m going for another degree.  Why not.  I have nothing else to do but drink and smoke and be vulgar.  I guess it’s a way to focus my energy for good rather than evil.

So, there ya have it.  Enlightened?  I think so.

I don’t tag.  But if you decide to spill some nasty shit about yourself, please do let me know.  I love those disgusting little tidbits that shape us into individuals.

The DeathStar, Big Daddy’s Dealings & Hillbilly Willy

Posted in Farts & other Foul Stenches, Gettin Nekkid Where Ever I See Fit, Nomadic Diva, Why I Love My Job on July 18, 2008 by catscratch

So, I was in Huntsville, Alabama with OG for work again, striving to put together our little DeathStar and becoming Master of the Universe.  

The corporate take over went very well.  I actually got to touch a check that was in excess of a half million dollars.  More money than my poor, pathetic ass will most likely ever see at one time again. 

 They let me touch the check and I got chills.  They didn’t let me out of the room with the check, and rightly so.  My ass would have been headed to the islands where I could live cheap and suplement my drinking by selling thatch skirts to the tourists.

In addition, I’ve used my imaginative writing skills to compose an actual press release for the takeover, or merger as they like to call it.  It will be released this afternoon and it will be my one little claim to fame as far a publications go.


Huntsville, Alabama is the home to NASA’s Space Camp and all that cool space jazz.

Of course, I, having only been to visit this particular town once, wanted to go see this space stuff all up close and personal.

I had dreams and aspirations of drinking way too much, getting nekkid and having pictures made on the wing of the space shuttle…. but alas… when one works during the entire span of hours that the space place operates, it makes it a little bit difficult to do something that will likely get ya thrown in the pokey.

I managed not to go to jail for anything at all while in Alabama.  This is always a good thing. 


There are several interesting points on the 3 hour drive between Knoxvegas and Huntsville I’ve taken note of…  These points I will now share with you.

*** There are 34 churches on the Hwy. 72 that are visible from the road.  This is only a 92 mile trek, which means that there is a church an average of every 3 miles.   And that’s only the churches that are visible.  I’m sure there are at least 100 more on small road that lead to the country.

One can only wonder how many people actually attend all of these churches, as there doesn’t seem to be too many populated areas with houses where people would live. 

***Big Daddy is totally running everything between South Pittsburg, TN & Nickajack Lake.  Fireworks, clothing and outdoor goods… you name it… he gots it.


*** Hillbilly Willy’s BBQ.  I’m not so sure how tasty the food is, but I was hooked by the name.


Gramma is still kickin and feisty as ever.  She’s still plotting her escape.  They’ve had to restrain her because she really is planning to bail.  Bad part is, she can’t make it far without getting off balance and biting it.  The whole thing makes me sad and I still cry alot.  It’s hard to watch the woman who raised me and was so vibrant and active just 10 years ago wasting away in a hospital bed.

Fucking heartbreaking.

Big T is set for knee replacement numero uno this coming Monday. 

Anyways, I’m back home now and back to worrying myself sick.  BUT it’s Friday and I have a stocked liquor cabinet and a fridge full of Sam Adams.

To all y’all and yours… Have a great weekend.

Greasy Spoons, Gas Masks & Adult World

Posted in Farts & other Foul Stenches, Nomadic Diva, Wacky Conversation on April 21, 2008 by catscratch

Warning, warning….  The end of this here post isn’t exactly family friendly, and hell, it may even be offensive.  But, it was all in fun.

So, this weekend past was spent mostly in the truck ridin’ shotgun with Big T.  

We put 383.6 miles on the odometer, but oddly we went nowhere.  Amazing.  We went in a couple of big fat circles but had a friggin ball along the way.    This would be a map of East Tennessee.  I am Sucky McDucky when it comes to photoshop/paint… so the black lines are the way of the travels.  Yes, they do cross one another several times as we seemed to keep going in circles.

1st stop.  Greasy Spoon.   We started out having breakfast at Sam’s Restaurant.  It’s a greasy spoon, but damn, it’s sooo tasty.  I had pancakes and home fries.  Gotta love that nasty, greasy home cookin, as it’s the perfect cure for a hangover when taken with enough Motrin.

2nd stop. The Flea Market.   From Sam’s, we head north, to an old time flea market in BFE (a.k.a. Tazewell, TN).  It’s actually pretty cool though.  It’s a real flea market with other people’s crap that they’re trying to sell, not some bunch of new, stolen goods.  You know, the kind of stuff that might be one person’s crap, but another person’s treasure.  Anyway, I found no treasures, but I did see an old dude peddling chickens and a goat. 

This stop proves the fact that you can take city into the country and city will work to blend in.  But you can’t guarantee city won’t flip out at a chicken chasing her around a muddy flea market.

3rd stop.  Big T’s Mama House   There are two things I’m sure of in this life:

1.  Greasy spoon food doesn’t take long to turn your average folks into fart producing machines.

2. Big T won’t shit anywhere but home.

With those facts in mind, and the fact that the fart war (which had been called a truce) was back on made this stop a necessity.  Now, I’m a girl, and most of our route this day was back-woods, Deliverance Country, but if I need to go take a shit… trust me here, I’ll pull over grab some napkins, find a tree and leave the kids in the woods.

Anyhoo, that’s another story all together. And he had to go, so his Mom’s house was violated with the stench of something evil… then we ran.  Fast…   His dad called and tried to give gastro advice as it smelled the house up and made his daddy fightin mad.

4th stop. Burger King, Oneida, TN.  Nothing of consequence happened here, he just wanted to get out of the truck because I kept fartin, on purpose. Yes friends and neighbors, the war is back on and I’m so far ahead that I could quit now and he’d never catch up.

After Oneida we cut up through Elk Valley (lovely) and Jellico (seriously small town in which my Big T was pushed forth from his Mama’s uterus in a two level house they called a hospital back in the early 60’s).  Finally, we wandered back (somehow made a big circle) to LaFollette when I got the bright idea that I wanted to go to AdultWorld. 

So, he cuts off the main road, rather than being like any normal, Deliverance fearing individual and says he knows a road that’ll take us back to the interstate almost at that exit. 

This was NOT a road.  This was a trail.  A trail full of mud and rocks and huge crevices.

Kids, I love playing in the mud and 4-wheelin as much as the next girl next door…. but, I wasn’t wearing a good bra that day, as it wasn’t a work day and I could get away with it.  I was hangin on to the girls and hoping for the best.   Big T kept telling me to hold on… to which I would answer “I am, for fuck sake!!!”.  To which he’d reply, “not to your boobs, to the oh shit bar.”

He was probably right, but I refused to let the girls take any abuse.

Stop #5. Adult World, Oneida, TN.  Yes kids, we drove around a mountain and back over that mountain to get to the porn capital of the world!  This place is very interesting to say the least.


I wanted to take pictures inside, but….

This place has some of the coolest stuff and more XXX DVD’s than one could possible shake a dick stick at. 

Some of the toys are officially on my list to give Santa this year… assuming Santa goes to such places. 

Some of the toys are officially on the gag me with a wet noodle list.  Like this one. And this one reminded me of the Bride of Chucky.

So… in a nutshell, that was our Saturday.   Or most of it anyway.  We got home around 10pm and finally relaxed a little.  The fart war was still officially on, with him gettin in the last blow of the night and waving the blankets.

Final score after the weekend:  Diva-18, Big T- 7.


Acceptance, Plotting of Revenge & Alton Brown

Posted in Bloggers Lane, Farts & other Foul Stenches, Shit that has no rhyme or reason, TV on March 13, 2008 by catscratch

 Friends, I’ve been out done.

Yes, yes, it’s true.  Burrito Hollydale has out burrito’d me. 

I’m not happy about it but I’ve accepted that my gut can’t tolerate chihuahua as well as it once did.

Not to be a poor loser, or wish him any ill.  But I hope he still has the shits. 

And believe me when I say, Taco Bell aside, I can out Fiesta you anyday, Speedcat.

Hear me now, believe me later.



Olga, the Bodacious TATAS Bra, tagged me to do my Catscratch Divalicious Biography in six words or less….    Here we go….

 “Livin life holding my wine bottle”

 How’s that for havin goals???


Tell me… how is it possible to deny this man’s smile.

Not only is he a genius in the kitchen type environment, but he has a visual aid for everything.

What enspires this post, you may be asking…

(as we all know it’s unlike me to do anything other than bitch or talk about sex).

Well, not long ago, Jay over at Cynical Bastard posed the question to us all as to who the most wonderful food network star might be.

I’ve changed my view on dear Alton lately.  I voted for Emeril and Rachael Ray, but it was because I hadn’t given full credit to the man that makes the entire network tick.

He makes the Food Network worth watching.  How can you not love a man who is a culinary god.

He knows everything about everything in the kitchen and at my advanced age, that’s very attractive.

Fun in the kitchen, don’t ya know.  Put good use to those utensils.

Sexy in a kitchen nerd way.  I just love him.

Not only does he know recipes but he knows the science behind how food works.

Thanks to him, I now know how to use 2 large clay pots to slow smoke nearly anything during summer.

And what would Iron Chef America be without his sassy commentation?

So, I’m off to polish off this bottle of Pinot and watch my fella on Good Eats.



Analyzations, Constipation, and Heartfelt Thanks

Posted in Bloggers Lane, Farts & other Foul Stenches, The Inner Circular People on January 14, 2008 by catscratch

Ahhh, it never ceases to amaze me that I’m so thankful for the structure of a Monday morning. As much as I love Big T and my family, the peace and quiet of my office is sheer bliss. Work is my escape and I digs it.

I have analyzed why, in fact, I resolved not to make any resolutions. I didn’t make any, because without a doubt by 12:04 on New Years, they would have been broken anyway so there was no need to bother with it.

I didn’t consider a diet, not as a resolution anyway.
The thought of not eating jalapeno poppers at the bar never even crossed my mind. It’s the right of any happily married, middle aged woman NOT to starve at a bar, while out drinkin’ just because she’s a girl & simply put, we don’t eat in bars.
God forbid, someone might actually see a girl eating, or think that even though you’re a girl, you might be human.

It’s finally over, and thank God above for it. Childbirth wasn’t nearly as annoying and painful as this experience was.

Either the Exlax finally kicked in or the exorcism Big T performed on the demon turd was 100% effective.

Maybe it was drinking the warm water. I did give that a whirl. Maverick’s idea.

Maybe it was the threat of buying a snake at Lowes… Chuck’s idea.

Maybe it was the weekend attack of porn and Taco Bell as suggested by Rockdog. Happy and FUN idea when you combine the two, by the way.

It was suggested by Amy to punch Big T in the crotch for the simple comfort of making his middle area hurt too, but then porn wouldn’t have been as much fun! However, I would have only taken about one more hung chow joke and I would have let him and his boys have it.

Maybe it was the lettuce and spinach sandwich Big T brought me from Subway on Friday. ***Note to self… DO NOT eat jalapenos on a spinach sandwich while gastrically blocked. Sweet Jesus the burn..

I’m just so glad it’s over!!! As is Big T, he was running out of constipation jokes.

Heartfelt Thanks
Sunday is the day when our whole entire family (uncles, cousins….) gets together at Gramma & Grampa’s pad. We rotate weeks for cooking duty and meet up to eat, play spades, watch NASCAR or football…. Family reunion once a week.

Anyhoo, I had printed out all of the comments wishing Gram’s a happy birthday from everyone.

She got all super excited! She thought she had met each and every one of you at some point in the past.

Then again, bless her heart, she thought we were all there to wish her Bon Voyage and that she should hurry and finish packing for her cruise. =)

The happiness in her eyes while she read each word was priceless, kids.
She says, “Thank you for all the birthday wishes!”

I appreciate the all of my friends here on Blogger’s Lane. And to answer a question I saw somewhere…. Yes, Blogger friends are real friends.

Cherry Poppin, Fart Wars, Makin Babies & Bankruptcy

Posted in Christmas, clone production, Farts & other Foul Stenches, karaoke on November 30, 2007 by catscratch

You perverts!! I know you thought to yourself… “Ohhhh, Diva’s done been rollin’ in the woods again.”

No. I’m a good Christian girl and I don’t roll in the woods or anything of that nature. Not anymore anyway, I got married 2 months ago.

Oh, speaking of pervi-ness. It has come to my attention that I am NOT the only one around this place who had no clue what Half Nekkid Thursday was! Go me! Still doesn’t mean I’m gonna tack my rack on my page. (Although it is more of a ragin’ thing that I thought).

Anyhoo… the cherry I refer to is the Christmas song cherry. I am a complete and total karaoke junkie. Why, I dunno. It’s not that I’m any good at it. I think it’s the fact that I can go get hammered and make an ass out of myself and it not bother me.

So, I made the rounds over the long weekend to my favorite waterin’ holes to partake in cold beer and greasy food whilst listening to all the other drunk monkies attempting to sing their own renditions of many-a-song. Sometimes can be scary, sometimes can be totally awesome, sometimes I need earplugs to keep from bleeding out my ears.

It’s after Thanksgiving and not a single holiday ditty had been krooned. WTF? It’s time to get in the spirit and make people accept the fact that they are going to spend more money than Hugh Hefner does on his playmates.

At both Ronnie’s and Coyote Joe’s, I popped the cherry on the beloved Christmas tune, by belting out Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Actually, I only sang it because I felt the need to pull the Grinch out of my ass. I’m not sure if it worked yet.


Me and Big T called a truce on the fart war as he was getting way too serious and thinking of ways to smoke me out. I waved the red flag sometime on Saturday night when he was kicking my ass by close to 10 farts, er points.
Besides it was costing me too much in candles and air freshner to keep the house smelling fresh with that much shit flying.


I have been a really good girl the past couple of days. And Big T has been very cooperative! He’s even trying to cut back and eat healthier with me as a show of support. Not sure how long he’ll last before he caves and sneaks to Burger King for a grease bomb, but he’s got my undying gratitude for not doing it in front of me.

I have sucked down ungodly amounts of water rather than Diet Dew and Diet Coke. I have kicked Taco Hell to the curb (last I heard, they’re about to file bankruptcy). The fridge is filled with healthy crap like you’d find at a fat farm and we’re actually eating it. My ass has even managed to hoof out 3+ miles a day on the treadmill at increasingly increasing speeds. Go me.

Swear to God, there is no way my ass is buying new fat clothes after I gave all the old ones away and done went out and bought all new smaller clothes last year. Not gonna do it.


On the baby makin’ front, we gots a big fat strike out. No bun in the oven over here yet. I reckon since the doctor said my fat ass needs to lose a few pounds before actively pursuing baby makin. I have to admit I was sort of bummed out when I had to make my way to Walgreens for Midol, tampons and bon-bons (actually I got Diet Dew, not bon bons…).

I can only assume that I knew I wasn’t pregnant because I had a wicked mean bout with PMS this week and felt like I was going to strangle several people for relatively small and mostly harmless offenses.