Archive | October 2011

A letter from a 2 year old to his mommy.

A letter from Little Bubba to his Mommy. (Dictated by me to him and then he repeated it to his mom and grandmother.)  We couldn’t stop laughing.  Kids are good for one thing for sure and that’s entertainment.  He’s only two so he still leaves out words and letters when he’s talking.  For example, instead of saying “crazy” he says “kazy.”  Also for some reason instead of saying “booger” he says “beeger.”

Dear Momma,

Love you.  Momma crazy.  I a booger.  No I not a booger, Momma a booger.  Aunt [PD] crazy.  Grammy not crazy.  (He improvised a little.)  Love you dog.


[Little Bubba]

The simplicity and honesty of children is awesome and that’s why I love them.


I was a bully.

I told you recently that I was spoiled as a child.  My recent encounter with CBR reminded me of the time that I beat up a little boy in second grade.  Don’t judge me just yet.  Let me explain.

My grandmother, the Preacher’s mother, was a very interesting woman.  She was intelligent, funny, strong and independently wealthy.  She worked hard for what she had and she wasn’t afraid to show it off.  When I picture her back in the days when I was growing up I see a classy woman with big hair, big jewelry, big cars, and lots of big fur coats.  In Alabama there is at best only one week a year when it is cold enough to actually wear a fur coat.  That didn’t stop her from having a closet full of beautiful fur coats though.

When I was seven years old my grandmother bought me a rabbit fur bomber jacket for Christmas.  I was so excited and proudly pranced around in it during the Christmas holidays.  When it was time to go back to school I just had to wear it on my first day back.  How many other seven-year-olds do you know with fur coats?  I’m guessing not many.  So I got on the bus that cold winter morning, all wrapped up in my pretty rabbit fur coat, and headed off to second grade.

When the bus got to the school I got out of my seat and walked up to the front of the bus.  I started down the steps and as I reached the last one before stepping onto the cold muddy ground, I was pushed from behind.  Down into the mud I went.  After the shock wore off and I stood back up, I quickly turned around and there stood Corey.  My 2nd grade arch nemesis.

Corey was a small boy in my class.  He had poofy blond hair and always had a twinkle in his eye when he saw me, but he hardly ever talked to me.  I was furious.  I’m sure my red hair was glowing neon orange due to the sunlight and the rage in my soul at the time.

I tried to dust my coat off before heading to class, but it was covered in mud and I just knew that someone was going to have to pay for this crime.  I stayed cool though.  I didn’t let Corey on to the fact that I wanted to kill him right then and there.  I gave him a single dirty look, but I had bigger plans for him.

I went to class and did my school work as usual.  Then came recess.  The teacher went out of the room and it was on.  I gathered my group of minions and we cornered poor little Corey.  I used him as a punching back for about thirty seconds and then we had to disperse because our lookout told us that the teacher was on her way back to the classroom.  I doubt that I hit him that hard.  It definitely wasn’t hard enough to make him cry or anything.  However, he did steer clear of me for the rest of the school year.

I have thought about that day a few times since then and always felt a little guilty for what I did.  So, Corey, if you’re out there, I’m sorry.  You still owe my mom for the dry cleaning though.  😉

Happy humping!

P.S.  I’m going away for a few days.  We’re going to pick up Little Bubba from the Preacher’s and mom’s house.  Wish sis & I luck and pray that we don’t kill each other on the 7 hour drive there. 🙂

Preachers, Rum and Porn

The Preacher’s coming!  The Preacher’s coming!  Hide your porn!

Did that get your attention?  It should have because that’s how I felt about his impending visit that Tuesday evening.  The Preacher, my mom and my little brother were all coming up for dinner.  It would be their first time seeing our new place.  Sis and I started cleaning like crazy on Sunday and getting everything ready for the big day, and then the big day arrived.

You're going to take this plate of meat & smile even if I have to shove it down your throat.

First we had to decide what to cook them for dinner.  The Preacher has become and extremely picky eater in his old age.  I think most of it is in his mind.  Hold on.  I can explain.  For example, for the past several years he has insisted that he cannot eat pasta or any Italian food because the oregano makes him nauseous.  Therefore, my mom could not use her Italian seasoning in anything that she was cooking for him because it contained oregano.  Then one day, a few months ago, we cooked some kind of boxed dinner and he ate it, and even worse, he liked it.  It had oregano listed as one of the ingredients.  Busted!  He’s full of…sh…oregano!

Since the Preacher is being such a whiny bitch lately we decided that maybe homemade shish kabobs would make him happy.  He always loves those.  What man doesn’t love meat on a stick?  Once the main course decision was out of the way, we had to go buy a grill.  We used to have one but the bottom fell out.

So we went to Wal-Mart on Sunday and bought a $25 charcoal grill, a bag of charcoal, and some lighter fluid.  Yay!  I get to make fire!  Oh, and sis bought all the food stuff to make the shish kabobs.

Yep, that's the one.

In my excitement about getting to play with fire I forgot to tell you about the porn.  The week before I went by my parents’ old house that’s still up for sale, and I checked the mail and ran some errands for him.  While I was there I figured why not pick up a few things that they left there and weren’t using.  They were things that sis and I really needed and my parents shouldn’t mind.  I went into the Preacher’s little office to get the two-line telephone, his desktop computer that needed fixing (I suspected it was due to the virus riddled porn sites he had visited), and sis wanted file folders.  So naturally I went to the file cabinet to look for some.  As I was looking I found a DVD.  It wasn’t just any DVD, it was the Pamela Anderson/Tommy Lee sex tape DVD.  Yep, that’s the one, and believe it or not, I’ve never even seen it.  So I was very tempted to bring it back home so I could see what all the fuss was about.  I decided that I’d better not though, because if the Preacher noticed it missing he might start asking questions.  We don’t want to have that conversation now do we?

Back to their visit.  The Preacher sent a text at 3:20 pm saying that they were leaving and would be here in an hour.  Holy crap!  An hour?  We haven’t even put the kabobs together yet.  I frantically started cutting up the potatoes for mashed potatoes.  At the same time I was trying to put together the kabobs.  Sis did manage to marinate everything the night before.  I almost forgot to light the grill.  By the time they arrived the grill was about a thousand degrees and I had one round of kabobs done (a few were extra crispy).

They came in and took the (short) tour of our little house and hugged and kissed on Little Bubba.  Then my sister’s old man knocked on the door.  Oh no.  Did she remember to tell him to not show up drunk?  God, I hope so.  This could get real ugly real fast if he’s drunk as a skunk.  (Here’s a good example of how my train of thought works.)  I then remembered that we still had a fifth of rum in the door of the refrigerator.  Sis refused to hide it in the cabinet.  Great.  Too late now.

My sister’s old man had thankfully not shown up in an inebriated state.  While we were all inside talking, my mom starts selling my sister to him.  She was like a sleazy car salesman trying to get rid of a lemon.  LOL  She’s good…I have to admit that.  She was telling him what a great cook my sis is and all sorts of stuff that just didn’t make sense.  Normally my mom would be asking if he was sure he could put up with my sister’s stubbornness or something along those lines.  Sis and I just stood there looking confused.

Her old man left and then we ate dinner.  The Preacher said it was really good, so I was happy.  They left and went on their merry way.  We had managed to avoid any family arguments or any awkward moments with my sister’s old man.  I’d call that a success.  Wouldn’t you? 🙂

Happy humping & don’t forget to hide your liquor & porn!

CSI: Podunk


After our night of drinking and fun on Saturday, I awoke with a headache at 8:30 am and found that sis had disappeared.  I later found out that she went over to her old man’s house at 6:00 am.  I took some medicine for my headache and went back to bed.

I woke up again at about 1:00 pm when the dog barked.  Sis had been home once already, but had gone back out for groceries.  I went into the living room and opened the front door.  As I went to open the screen door for her, she yelled, “No! Don’t let [the dog] in!”  Too late.  The dog, a Great Dane who we’ll call She-Ra, came bursting in.  As soon as She-Ra got inside sis yelled, “No! She’s bleeding!”  By that time she had left a trail of blood from the living room into my sister’s bedroom.  So much for our security deposit.

Not our She-Ra, but very similar looking. She's one big ass dog.

We got a hold of She-Ra and tried to hold her still so we could see where all the blood was coming from.  Sis found a tiny cut on her right back leg.  Sis said that a vein must have been hit because she had never seen so much blood come out of such a small wound.  We did the best we could to wrap it up with a washcloth and some horse wrap that I got out of the horse trailer.

While sis held She-Ra still as best she could, I got to work on scrubbing the blood out of the carpet.  It looked like a crime scene.  If anyone had come in at that moment they would have certainly thought that we had just killed someone and had hidden the body.  I scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good.

Sis was still holding She-Ra down and as long as she Continue reading

Wait for it…

I’d like to apologize for taking so long to post this, but this past weekend was so crazy that I wasn’t even sure where to start.  I’m going to break it down into a post for Saturday and a post for Sunday because there’s just too much to fit into one post.  The craziness never seems to stop around here.


Sis, Little Bubba, and I loaded up first thing Saturday morning and drove an hour to meet our parents at Cracker Barrel.  We were meeting them there so that they could take Little Bubba home with them.  They wanted to keep him for a week which was fine with sis and I because we needed a break.  PTL!  Party time!

First we stopped at a store and did some shopping.  We both found new shirts to wear out that night, neither of which we ended up wearing.  While we were on our way to meet my sister’s friend, Cowgirl, my sister decided that she finally wanted to go get her first tattoo.  I was not keen on this idea because I was ready to start drinking and stopping for a tattoo would just take entirely too long.

We met up with Cowgirl and dropped her truck off at the bar that we were going to go to later.  We then headed to the tattoo shop.  Now, no one bothered to find out that there was a huge college football game going on that night, so parking was a bitch and so was driving around town trying to avoid hitting drunk college students who were wandering aimlessly through the streets like zombies.  We made it there though.

We went inside the tattoo shop and there were a bunch of punk-looking college age kids hanging out while one guy was lying on the table getting inked.  One of the girls came up and asked my sister if she could help us.  My sister told her what she was looking to get and the girl Continue reading