Thursday, August 27, 2009

Life is Good

I'm not sure what it is.....Fall's in the air and I can feel it and I guess I always tend to get all happy go lucky and shit when that time of the year comes back around. It's so foreign to me, this feeling of complete and total ease. It'll only last for a day or two though....if that. I tend to really slow down. I take time to "smell the roses" and I always reflect on memories that make me super happy. There's just something about cool overcast weather that brings out that part of me.

On the way to work this morning, I listened to nice calm music and just thought about all kindsa happy memories. Things that I'll always look back on and smile. I thought about so many random things this morning and it's just totally made my day.



I remember the days of cleanin' houses and then pickin' up the boy from pre-k by 2:30. We'd go home and watch Barney together for hours. I hated Barney, I hated all the kids, I hated all the stupid songs, but sittin' there on the green carpet of our first house with the boy singin' along, it's one of the most awesome moments I had as a Mom.



I remember goin' to the mall with my Grandmother. Whether it was her takin' me back to school clothes shoppin' or her just goin' to Sears for some underoos, I loved walkin' through the mall with her.



Strangely enough, I love the memories of cleanin' our old house in Dallas. The girl wasn't thought about yet (so things were strangely quiet) and the boy was in pre-k. If I wasn't workin' cleanin' someone else's house, I loved to clean mine on nice cool Fall days listenin' to calming music. I miss that house. I wasn't sad to leave it, but lookin' back on it, I don't think I will ever love a house as much as that one. It was our first house and I've got so many cherished memories from it.



I loved layin' in bed and wathin' Ally McBeal.



I loved orderin' Johnny's Pizza to-go every Sunday and comin' home to watch the Sopranos.



My mom and I used to go to this one kid's consignment sale together. The best was the one in the fall. We'd get up at the ass crack of dawn, so we could be one of the first in line to get in. We'd have coffee and she'd make egg mcmuffins. We'd freeze our asses off. It was awesome. We may not do that anymore, but we do go shoppin' every year on the day after Thanksgiving.....it's a close second.



I loved all the days of painting things on the walls in our new house. Again with the nice cool days and good music. I had the help of a friend I no longer have, but still, those were good times.




Halloween. I used to always decorate for Halloween. I miss decorating for Halloween. I just don't do it so much anymore. Sure, I pull out all the silly Dollar Store figurines and fake leaves, but it's just not like it used to be. Now, I'll ask Jerm to pull the stuff outta the attic and he won't and he won't, so I finally do....like a week before Halloween. That's LAME. I need to change that.




When Jerm and I were teenagers, we'd get in his car and just drive. We never had a specific destination, but we'd end up somewhere awesome. He had a '69 Camaro. I can remember the sound of that car and the shitty radio. We'd have the windows down and I'd just be singin' along to whatever cassette tape was playin'. That car is sittin' in his parent's garage.....rotting.




Enough with all the memories already. I'm gettin' all foggy eyed and shit. I know I'm doin' things now that one day will be memories, but it always seems like things were so much simpler way back when. It's funny how your mind blocks out all the shit and just lets the good filter through sometimes. Thank god for that.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Today started out decent enough. I had a damn good breakfast for a change and good food after all makes EVERYTHING better......that's until you get to work and have your ass handed to you anyways. Oh well, the past two days have sucked ass why not today too?

Monday, the man was pitchin' a fit bein' all grumpy and shit because he couldn't find somethin' he needed for his bike. I'm mean like seriously, it ruined his whole night. He wasn't talkin' to anybody, he wasn't lookin' at anybody and if he was talked to you'd got a short snippy response if any response at all. That of course tends to affect everyone in the house (well except for the boy, because he never comes outta his room). If Daddy ain't happy, ain't nobody gonna be happy. So my great mood on Monday was flushed down the toilet.....and Monday really had been a good day.

Tuesday was no better. It was my turn to be in a bad mood. I ain't about havin' someone treat me like terd on a Monday then act like it never happened come Tuesday. Oh hell no.....you need to apologize mother fucker. No apology? Ok, I'll just start off in a bad mood and save you the trouble. Then while I was cookin' dinner, the sink clogged and started leakin'.....the man had to fix it when he got home. I didn't think fast enough, I didn't move fast enough and BAM another mother fuckin' fit.

I could go on and on. I'm all about writin' somthing down to get rid of it, but I think I've said enough. I don't wanna embarrass the man too much by talkin' about him pitchin' a fit like a little kid......but you know what????? You did asshole. Then on Tuesday you pitched ANOTHER fit and instead of me yellin' at you like the fit pithcer you are, I fuckin' write about it, because I have control over my mother fuckin' mouth now and instead of jackin' my jaws and makin' things even worse, I'll just stand and stare at you in all of your juvenile gloriousness.

Yeah. That's what I'm takin' and talkin' about!

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

My Kinda Music

Anyone that knows me knows that the Detroit Cobras is my favoritist band.....Despite the fact that the last two times I saw them the were only ok, and the last time I saw them, the drummer was a total fuckin' dick. I shoulda punched him in the nuts, but I just had a shot of whiskey instead. They need to get their shit together and quit lookin' like they'd rather be at home watchin' Jeopardy. They'll be playin' the Drive Invasion this year so I'm SUPER stoked.



Next is Clutch. There is absolutely no better band to listen to while you're in the garage workin' on a car....Absolutely none.


This band get me all tingly inside. Seriously.....tingly. The Flat Tires god damn get down honky tonkin' rock n' roll.


I ain't so much a fan of Psychobilly, but Tombstone Brawlers are insane awesome. It's the kinda music you crank up while you're drivin' around with all your windows down. Good shit I tell ya, good shit.


Last but not least, is Roger Alan Wade. His voice'll send shivers down your spine. No shit, every time I listen to him I get the chills. His voice is absolutely intoxicating live. He sings all kindsa silly shit like "Butt Ugly Slut" and "Fryin' Bacon Nekkid", but he's also written songs for the likes of Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings and Hank, Jr....and yeah, he's also Johnny Knoxville's cousin.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Don't Sit Around with Your Thumb Up Yer Ass, Go To An Anitque Mall

Friday night my friend Meme and I went to the Big Shanty Antique Mall because we were doin' nothin' else but sittin' around with our thumbs up our asses....and not in a fun kinky sorta way either. Lucky for us, they were open 'til 9:00 so we had plenty of time to walk around.....and trust me you need it at this place. It's freakin' HUGE (like your mom's butt).

As crazy at it may sound, I left my house without a camera. I know, I know, but luckily I had my phone, because there was just way too much awesomeness in this place that I needed to share......

Behold the mama wolfcat and her cub. This bitch (seriously, she is) had nipples. Real live nipples. Ok, so they weren't real live, but they were real lively to play with. I know, I know.....baby animals died to put the fur on this sweetass wolfcat, but I still want it. At $39.99 though, it'll have to stay right where it's at for now.




"What in the hell is that?" you may be thinking.
Well, I'm not too sure, but the tag says "Lady in Dog House". Looks like lady rolled around in some dog poo too. I loved her. Meme loved her. She was $15.95. One of us will have her.



Just shortly after I tripped and kicked the stupid wheel on the stupid buggy I was pushin' around (breakin' yet another fuckin' toenail), Meme found her some magic stilts.
I mean, I say they were magic. She got up on 'em and walked around for a bit without fallin'....that's pretty freakin' magical if you ask me.

Just around the corner from the magic stilts was this mini-sombrero that would be perfect to wear when I'm ridin' a mini-donkey......mang.

Then there was this hat.....

For this little......uh, doll. I ain't got much to say.

Of course, bein' in the south, antique malls have tons of black-americana. This one struck my fancy in particular seein' as how I'm on some sorta unintentional mini-donkey kick these days. This little dude has his own mini-donkey......although I'm guessin' it's a mini-mule and it came with 40 acres.

I really want this dude sittin' on my mantle.
I mean really....just look at that makeup and those jazz hands. What girl wouldn't want a little bit 'o Wildcat Juice if that were the results.


This was just scary.
It was one of the many things I thought about buyin' so I could sneak it into the kids rooms late at night and put it on the dresser.....I'd make a loud noise to startle them awake and I'd flash real quick with a flash light. Good times I tell ya, good times. Those credit card companies ain't got nothin' on my priceless moments.
This.......this is another thing I wasn't to sure about, but I'd love to own it nonetheless. Crazy, wacky teacher with a white hands and a prune for a face.....and the dunce cap. Let's not forget about the dunce cap.
My favorite part of the antique mall is the section with vintage clothes and hats.
We totally got busted playin' dress up by one of the lovely ladies that worked there. She was awesome though. She told us to go up front and have some free chocolate, cookies and wine. WHA? Free food and wine??? Too bad I think wine tastes like butt.
Meme's hat is way awesomer than mine.....and no, we ain't joinin' that old ladies hat club. I've already been asked.
I had my own awesome red hat though.......and check out those bullet boobs. Dang....obnoxious.
After Meme and I spent some quality time tryin' on hats, we were on our way out.......then we turned the corner and saw THIS......
WOWZA!!!! Bitch damn stolt Jamiroquai's hat, her daddy's unds and she's got her titties all floppin' around in a wife beater. Ok, so her boobs are all perky and shit, but whatever....I say they're floppin'. That's some piece-a art I must say. You can almost hear her suckin' her teeth. I told Jeremy a few months back that I wanted a life sized poster of Edward Cullen to hang in our room.....I changed my mind.
I think this may be have been one of the best Friday night dates I've ever been on. Ok, so I've never actually been on a date....unless you count me and Brandy cruisin' the K-Mart parkin' lot for dudes with mullets a date.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

At Least You Ain't A Mini-Donkey

On the way to work this morning, I drove past a yard full of mini-donkeys. Poor little mini-donkeys....don't fit in with the horses, because not only are they donkeys, but they're MINI-donkeys and they don't fit in with the big donkeys either, because, well....they're.....mini. In my sinus medication induced haze, I pondered this for some time.

Somewhere deep within my thoughts about these mini-donkeys, I thought about a conversation I had with a friend yesterday. We'll call him "Dan", because Dan's the man. Dan's a glass half empty kinda guy and I think that's totally fuckin' lame. It's like I've told Dan before, "You only get one life, live it up mother fucker!", but Dan just whines.


In our conversation yesterday he said something about not changin' who he is to blah, blah, blah.....whatever. I agreed. No, you shouldn't have to change who you are to get along with people or have friends. If people don't like you for you, them fuck 'em.


Well Dan, I retract that statement. Sometimes you do need to change some things about yourself to have a happy fulfilled life.


For many, many years, I was the type of person who said exactly what I wanted, when I wanted despite who it hurt. I didn't give a shit. I was just bein' honest in a blunt sorta way. Don't people like honesty in a person? Yeah maybe, but what I learned is that there's quite a difference between being honest and being a cunt with too many opinions. I lost friends because of my mouth. I knew I had to change. There would be times I wanted to say somethin' to someone so bad that it physically hurt to keep my mouth shut. It was like tryin' to hold in puke. You know, your face turns all red and you cheeks get big and puffy.....yeah, just like that....but I did it. For months I had headaches and stomach aches.....all over learnin' to keep my mouth shut, but I knew if I didn't make this change in myself, I would eventually find myself alone. I had a major flaw in my system. It sucked learnin' to be a different person from whom I had been for so long, but the alternative was much much worse and I'm way better because of it.


So yeah DAN....uncross your arms, get that smellin' onions look off your face and join the fuckin' conversation no matter how lame you think it is. Since you're not used to usin' your smilin' muscles very often, your face will hurt for a little bit, but eventually the burn will start to feel good and then it'll totally wear off.


....and just think.....at least you're not a mini-donkey Dan....at least you're not a mini-donkey.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Me and My Comet, It’s Pretty Much a Love Affair

In cleaning up all my email folders, I came across a lovely little story I wrote about my car for a hot rod zine sometime last year. Since I have absolutely nothin' else to write about right now, I thought I'd share.....


Me and My Comet, It’s Pretty Much a Love Affair

My first car was a red, two door 1962 Comet. My Grandparents bought it for me when I was 17 and when they told me they had bought me a Comet I thought I was gonna die. All I could think of was those hideous cars that looked like retarded miniature Camaros.

Who was I to complain though? It was a car right? As long as it got me from point A to point B, I would never complain.

That car was such a nightmare for me at first! I literally had to learn how to drive it. I had to feather the gas all the time or it would die. I had to stand on the brakes with both feet just to get it to stop and when it did stop, smoke would billow out from underneath the hood. Then there was the vacuum controlled windshield wipers. The faster I went, the faster they went. When I stopped, they stopped. I had to constantly put transmission fluid in it and when the radiator blew a hole, we fixed it with that awesome bright orange bondo. The exhaust fumes damn near killed me and there was no radio so I kept my awesome pink ghetto blaster in the front seat. Yeah, that car was nothin’ but a headache from day one, but it was pretty flippin' sweet nonetheless.
(This is how my sweet, sweet car met its demise. A car hydorplaned and
hit it while it was parked in the yard.....killin' her dead)

Fast forward 15 years and I’ve bought a 1963 four door for $100 and 1962 two door (which now that I've gotten what I want off of it, it's for sale if you're lookin') for $250 that we could use for parts. Then, FINALLY I found “the one” on ebay. A 1963 ½ S-22 Comet Fastback (Sportster…whatever you wanna call it). It was all original with a stock V-8 260, power steering and bucket seats. I love bucket seats AND it had a V8! Then there was the sleek fastback roofline that made it look FAAASSST. I hit the “Buy It Now” button and we were on our way to Virginia Beach to get it.

When we got to the car, it wasn’t at all what the guy said it was. He said depending on how "adventurous" we were, we could probably drive it home. SHA! How do you suppose we’re gonna do that when the tires are flat and dry rotted, the battery’s dead, the starter’s seized with rust, and I blew a brake line the first time I stepped on the brake pedal. (Not to mention the fact that wasps had made their home in one of the doors and attacked me when I opened it!) Despite all that, I still heard angels sing when I looked at it. I was 31 and in love all over again.

Once we got the car home, I realized the extent of its fuckedupedness. It had sat in about two feet of water for god knows how long. There was a flood line all around the interior of the car. I about cried, but instead, I cleaned it up a bit and got to work. We replaced the starter, the battery, and the radiator. We cleaned out the gas tank, put in new fuel lines, new brakes and new tires. We were almost there. Just a few more minor adjustments and it would be ready.

I remember being upstairs when I heard my husband start it. I ran outside and saw him driving away. That BASTARD! I was supposed to drive it first! When he got back, I was waiting outside for him. He got out and I got in. A girlfriend of mine was over so she went with me for the first ride. The wind was all blowin’ our hair and fiberglass was all coming out of the rotten headliner and gettin’ in our eyes. I didn’t care, I was driving M Y car and it was AWESOME.

The next week we got new exhaust put on, because the original was just no bueno. I wanted straight pipes coming out by the back tires. Holy hell. It was so freakin’ loud and I think it made it faster too. Like the car was all proud and shit.

Slowly but surely, “the car” was becoming a person to me. The “it” was becoming a “she”. When I would go to start her and she didn’t want to start, it was because she was tired and I needed to give her some time to stretch and take a deep breath. When she would kinda stall out (because in all reality there was schmutz clogging the fuel filter), it was because she was gettin' a little tired because she’s so old and I needed to take it easy on her. Then after a few races on a dirt track in Fairmount, GA (wherein we stomped a Chevy II to shit and back) her little two speed Merc-O-Matic started to slip.
Seriously, it can take like 10 minutes before she decides to change into second, but that’s ok for now. She’s old and I put her through hell so she can take her sweet assed time and when she does finally decide to kick her old cantankerous ass into gear, I lovingly pat her in the dash and tell her what a good girl she is.

In a way her and I are a lot alike. We both have the “I’ll get around to it when I fuckin’ feel like it” attitude, we’re both a little rough around the edges and we’re both loud as hell.


We’re both kinda fallin’ apart because of old age, but chances are, it ain’t nothin’ a little duct tape can’t fix. Neither of us are all shiny an’ purdy, but no matter, because when you see us, you’re gonna look because we are so freakin’ awesome. We truly are a match made in heaven.

My name is Jessica and her name is Bess, and I love her.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Oops! I Did It Again!

I wrecked my car.....again.



Just a fender bender this time. I was in that awesome after work bumper to bumper traffic on the highway. I sneezed....and I sneezed again and again and then a snot rocket flew outta my nose. As I go to wipe the hangin' snot outta my nose....BAM. I hit a car. What really sucked was when I hit the car my snot covered hand slid up and smeared on the lense of my glasses. Awesome. Just fuckin' awesome and to top it all off, I got another ticket.

I get home and I'm all pissy and shit. Jeremy says "Why you so pissy?" Uh, HELLO? I just wrecked my stupid fuckin' car! He says, "you're not used to that by now?"



Admittedly, I've had a few problems with bumpin' into cars and other things here and there, but dang....it ain't like it's ever my fault. Psht.

Like this one time, the girl was in the backseat and needed a kleenex. I turned around to gave one to her. I hit a car. It was dead stopped at a red light. I was doin' 55. My airbag deployed, powder went everywhere. I thought it was a fire so I turned the ignition off, yanked out the keys and chucked them in the backseat narrowly missin' the girl's head all while hollerin' "Stop drop and roll! Stop drop and roll!" No shit. Stop drop and roll? Really? That shit's from like 2nd freakin' grade and it's the first thing I think of when there's a fire? That's fucked up.


There was this other time when I was backin' out of a parkin' spot and this crazy bitch hit me. Ok, so she supposedly had the right of way, but she was haulin' ass and she hit me. I get outta my car, call my grandmother who has my kids and tell her "I'm gonna be a little late, my car just got hit." Crazy bitch says, "Oh no you di-int! Who hit who?" I'm all "hello? I'm on the phone...SSSHHHHHH!" and I start walkin' around my car so I can hear what my grandmother's sayin'. Crazy bitch follows me all jackin' her jaws. My grandmother just keeps sayin' "Please keep your mouth shut Jessica. Please." Keep my mouth shut? Psht....right. I turn around and say "I know karate, you better back the fuck up".....my grandmother still on the phone....still askin' me to keep my mouth shut. Too late. Crazy bitch starts sayin' "Karate???? Oh yeah? You don't knooowww who I know!" Thank god I don't. Lord knows crazy black lady's probably friends with some Italian gangsta who's gonna come and put a horse head in bed next to me because I said I know karate.

I'm still walkin' around and around my car tryin' to tell my grandmother I gotta go, I'm ok. Still she's sayin' "just keep your mouth shut" and I'm sayin' "ok, I will, I gotta go" tryin' my best to ignore the crazy bitch chasin' me around my car. Then she starts sayin' "are you listnin' to me? I'm fixin' to whip yo ass!" Ok, I seriously, I gotta get off the phone. I hang up and turn to look at crazy bitch. I tell her if she wants to whip my ass then c'mon....and I turn around and start spankin' my ass all hootin' and hollerin'. I got yer crazy, bitch! Then the cop shows up. He's laughin' and crazy bitch is runnin' still runnin' her mouth at me. He makes me get in my car.



Crazy bitch got a ticket. I got none and technically, it was my fault. Heh, heh! Crazy bitch shoulda shut her mouth.



Those are just two of the accidents I've been in that totally weren't my fault. There was also the time I backed into a tree in Jeremy's parent's yard. It wasn't there the last time I went there.....I swear.



The last wreck was when Jerm called me at like 5:30 one mornin' in some serious pain. He couldn't drive. I needed to get him. I freaked. I dragged the kids outta bed, got 'em in the car, put it in reverse and started to haul ass outta my driveway....then I hit the cross-tie wall. Actually my car crawled up the wall. Crazy 4 wheel drive. Dude, that wall totally wasn't there before.

Stupid wall. Stupid tree.....stupid car.



I'm tellin' ya, this shit ain't my fault.

A Man

On my way into work this morning I saw a man, an obviously homeless man, walkin' down the street. I was stopped at a light so I watched him as he walked by. Where had this dude's life gone so horribly wrong that he doesn't have a place to hang his hat? A place to wash all his bits? In general, homeless people piss me off, but when I see an old dude who's hasn't had a clean shave or even a bath in lord knows how long, I kinda feel bad for him. Where did this man's pride go or is it his pride that's kept him on the streets? I dunno.

I can't say I feel the same for homeless women though. Old ladies just creep me out. It stems back to when I was in 3rd grade, and I've never gotten over it. My whole Brownie troop went to an old folks home on Valentine's Day to hand out these little felt hearts we had sewn. My little 3rd grade self went walkin' up to an old lady in a wheelchair to hand her my heart. She yanked that shit outta my little 3rd grade hands and chucked it back at me sayin' "I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKIN' HEART!" Holy GAWD.....Amazingly, I didn't cry. I stood frozen to the spot right there in front of her as my hand sewn heart bounced off my little 3rd grade forehead. I didn't wanna give that crazy broad my heart either.....she smelled like pee. What a bitch. Thanks to her, I'm not such a fan of old ladies. That shit's stayed with me my entire life. We all know women are nuttier than squirrel shit and it only gets worse as they get older. I prefer to just stay away from 'em thank you.

Older men on the other hand, I've always had a thing for. Not in a "I wanna bang old men" sorta way (ewww), but in a "I know they gotta story to tell" sorta way. You know the sayin' "A picture's worth a thousand words?".....well, to me, a old man's picture is worth a thousand words.
Real men are an endangered species. There's been a serious case of pussification in today's men and I think it's disgusting. Men are supposed to WORK. They're supposed to have gnarly workin' man hands. They're supposed to know how to fix cars. They're supposed to stand up for their women and take care of their families. You can just look at most any old man and see the road he's taken. He's gone to war and fought to keep his country safe. He's gone to work even though he had pneumonia. He made sure his wife and family felt safe and taken care of. When things sucked ass, he didn't complain, he just motored through, because he was a freakin' MAN. (I know there are some old dudes that really suck ass and deserve to take buckshot to the nuts, but let me have my fantasy).

For many, many years, I've said I was gonna start takin' pictures of old dudes. There's just somethin' about the lines in their faces and their hands (which is the best part on a man) and there's just so much a photograph could say.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Summer's Gone

Like a snap, Summer's gone and the kids have headed back to school. Technically, summer ain't gone, (too damn bad because it's like 800 freakin' degrees outside) but for the kids it is. All those lazy days of gettin' up whenever the hell they want and loungin' at the pool all day are all but faded memories in their sweet little heads.

The girl started 3rd grade today. Sweet baby jesus, I can't believe she's in third grade. It seems like it was just yesterday that I was pullin' boogers outta her nose for her...oh wait....that was just yesterday. Nevermind....it seems like it was just yesterday that I was wipin' poo off her hiney and now she's in THIRD grade. Dammit.



What's even crazier???? The boy....the boy is about to be 14 freakin' years old! Do you know how old that makes me? Good gawd is he growin' and all becomin' a young man and stuff. Excuse me, I need a minute to compose myself. I remember the boy's first day of school. I was terrified. I had visions of a nasty teacher who smelled like Bengay and had yellow teeth and some little sons-a-bitch's kid pointin' and laughin' at my boy for wearin' glasses then I'd end up bein' arrested for duct tapin' some little shit to a pipe in the school and makin' an example of him.


All of these thoughts were goin' through my head as I walked the boy down to his kindergarten teacher's room. Once there, I desperately clung to him not ever wantin' to let go. His teacher had to pry my arms from around him, and slightly shove me out into the hall sayin' "everything will be just fine". I wanted to run back in, grab my boy and take him back home. Instead, I put my head down and slowly walked back to my car. I was sobbing...snot bubbles and all.

That first year, my boy did have a piece of poo bully of a kid make fun of him everyday on the school bus for wearing glasses. His daddy was cop. Dammit.....I'd definitely end up goin' to jail. I ended up doin' the the right thing though and tellin' the boy now was the time to learn to stick up for himself. He said "but how mom?" I said "you tell that kid that his mom's fat (and lord how she was!) and his dad's a pig and then you run like hell ." So the next day, he did. He was so proud. He didn't get beat up or anything and that kid never said another word to him. It was my crowning moment as a mother.


As for the girl's first day of kindergarten, she was the one shovin' me out the door. She was all "ok mom...I got work to do here, so like um....why don't you......hit the bricks?" Not really, but pretty much. It wasn't as hard for me with her. She was tough and meaner than hell if she needed to be. I knew there were no battles of hers that I would have to fight.....she'd be doin' that all on her own and that's what worried me. We had bets goin' on how long it would take before we got a call from the front office sayin' she'd whacked some poor kid over the head with a ruler for lookin' at her. Amazingly enough, that call never came. A few months into school and she was actually given and an award for the "most kind and polite child" in her class. I called the teacher and asked if it was some kinda joke. This is an award all the kids in the class got, right? Nope. The girl had them totally snowed. Thank god.


The years just keep goin' by faster and faster. I shake my fist at 'em yellin' "Damn you stupid years....slow down already! I'm barely gettin' enough time to smell the freakin' roses here!" The boy already thinks we're lame and never comes out of his room and before I know it, the girl will be doin' the same. What in the hell am I gonna do when I don't have a kid that wants to all snuggle up to me or sit on my lap and hug me? I'm not sure I can handle that.


Maybe I can go buy me one of them foreign babies like all the fancy movie stars are doin' and while I'm at it, I'm gonna have to hire me a nanny, because I'm done whipin' asses and gettin' up 22 times a night and havin' peas spit at me. There ain't no way in hell I'm goin' through all that again! Oh, hell no. Maybe buyin' me a foreign baby ain't such I good idea after all. I'll just have to come up with another plan....like inventing some shot that'll keep 'em little forever.


In all honesty, I can't wait to see my kids grow up and turn into the adults that they'll be. I'm sure they'll be just as freakin' awesome as I am.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

I Call a DO OVER

Our Florida vacation was the first time we've ever been on a "family" vacation with friends. I can't say I'd do it again. It's not that we had a horrible time, but cooking and cleaning for 9 people alone was a chore. There just wasn't enough relaxin'. Us girls did a pretty damn fine job keepin' up with things while the boys pretty much sat on their asses and watched. I guess to expect anything more would have been foolish. Boys will be boys....at least until you kick 'em in the ass and tell 'em to straighten the hell up!


The first day we were in Florida, we wasted no time gettin' to the beach. It was by far my most favoritest day. The kids were anxious to get in the water and after the drive and unloading the cars, we were ready for a drink or two.

Nope, that ain't sweet tea. Ok, well maybe it is...sorta.

As for me, I drank heaven from this cup all week long.

Heaven I tell you. Some weird flavor of Crystal light and vodka. Up until recently, I steered clear of vodka because of its evil ways. I've grown up and so has vodka so we get along quite fancy now. Despite my best efforts, I stayed sober all week. Ok, so I didn't put in my best effort. Ya know....the whole "family" vacation thing. The last thing I ever wanna hear my kids say is "Daddy, is Mama drunk?"

We certainly did have an awesome time the first day. It wasn't long before the sun was already settin' it's little sun self down so it wasn't unbearable without shade of some sort.

It's also the perfect time to take beach pictures I think. Just get the sun to your back and voila! Kick ass pictures....

In Panama City, everyone sets up canopies for shade and just leaves all their stuff (chairs, towels, etc.) out at night. Pretty trusting I think, but hells yeah, I'm all up for not paying twenty somethin' dollars a day to rent the lounge chairs and umbrella (turns out I was wrong....just rent that shit. $20 for the first day and $10 for everyday after....just do it! It's SO worth it....very relaxin'!).

Anyhow, we got ourselves a canopy. An eyeball nearly being poked out and a thousand curses later, the damn thing was up. I gave it 24 hours. I think it actually lasted two days. It was totally flattened one night in a storm. Poor little blue tent.
We ended up stayin' inside a couple days, because the boy's face got so totally burned.
Looking back, I wish I would've taken the girl out and just rented those dang chairs. I think the boy would've been just fine with it. He was all consumed and as happy as could be watching Van Helsing over and over and over.
We did rent the lounge chairs the last two days we were there. HEA-VEN!!!

We ended up sayin' goodbye to the beach a day earlier than expected. We did go out to the beach early before the storms came in that would last the remainder of the day. Stupid storms.

I'm so glad we got to go on vacation this year. So VERY, VERY grateful. I still wish I could start all over and do it again! Until next time.....

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Kids in PCB

Remember when you were a kid and how excited you were when you got to go to the beach? That shit all changes when your an adult! You gotta worry about car problems that pop up just before you're leaving (my check engine light came on two days before we left. My motor was misfiring at the 5th cylinder. Awesome. Luckily, it ended up being an easy fix), whether or not you'll have as much money as you need and whose gonna look after the animals while your gone.

The kids though, all they can think about it is gettin' in the ocean. It's PRICELESS to see our kids actually having fun together. Opposed to the days when I come home and the boy has slammed the girl's fingers in his door because she's written "LOSER" on both her forearms and was dancing around him like John Travolta calling him a loser.

On vacation everyone's happy (or supposed to be at least). Everyone gets along (mostly). There's no arguing (ok, so that's a total lie), the boy actually WANTS to be outside (on most days) and he and the girl actually hang out TOGETHER ridin' waves.

The girl had some need to dig to China so she and Jerm worked like mad people diggin' holes.

The holes kept gettin' deeper and deeper so she could eventually sit in them. I was afraid one would collapse on her or a cat would come along and try to cover her up like the terd that she is.


The boy, LOVED the Indian Jones hat he got at one of the beach stores. Like never ever ever wanted to take it off loved it. Too bad he couldn't have worn it in the water to help keep his nose from gettin' so sun burnt it ended up lookin' like a puckered butthole for a few days. Now it's just a gnarly scab. And yes, I put sunblock on him like mad. Poor thing has skin just like mine.

The only pictures I managed to get of the kids together were the one's on the boat docks while we were waiting to eat. I had to threaten to beat the hell out of 'em if they didn't look like they loved each long enough for me to take this picture. They kicked and they screamed and right after the picture was taken they tried to push each other into the shallow water, but I got my picture dammit.

Man, vacation is bliss (sorta).

Monday, August 3, 2009

Heaven on a M F'in Plate!

Before we left for Panama City, I checked out tripadvisor for the best rated restaurants in that area. Didn't know you could do that huh? Yes, yes you can so do it before you head outta town!

Out of 383 restaurants that were rated, Hunt's Oyster Bar was #2 (#1 sounded a bit too fancy for me) and since I'm ALL about raw oysters, it was my grand plan to go.

On Wednesday, all 9 of us piled in my 4Runner like a bunch of Mexicans because two out of our three cars were outta commission. Seriously. TWO OUTTA THREE cars took a shit on the way to Florida! It cost $319 to get one car fixed and the other...well, it woulda cost more than my first three cars combined just to get it fixed, so needless to say it didn't get fixed. Somethin' about the motor falling out, shittin' out, whatever....it was no bueno.

After about a 30 minute ride, we get to Hunt's which was this little yellow building that already had an ass ton of people waiting outside. Since I had read a lot of the reviews before hand I knew to expected a long wait though. Tourists and locals alike swarm to this place. I put my name in and was told we had about a 45 minute to an hour wait. Not too bad. That's standard at the Mexican Restaurant we used to go to all the time.
Luckily, right across across the street was a place called Tan Fannies where some time could be passed.
Unfortunately, they refused to let me in with the kids despite their fake ids, so Jerm and a couple of our friends went in to check it out while I took the kids to the boat dock. From what I hear there were no tan fannies and the scenery was WAY better at the docks.



After nearly a two hour wait, we finally got a table. Well, two tables, but whatever...they were across from each other anyways. We ordered a dozen and a half of raw oysters and some frog legs for appetizers. The oysters came pretty quickly and were freakin' amazing! Once the frog legs came out, the kids were pretty hesitant about eating them. The boy ate part of one and the girl played with them.

Not too long after we got our appetizers, our meals came out. Jerm and I both ordered the grilled seafood platter. Holy sweet mother of jesus.....it was an ASS TON of food. There was grilled grouper, grilled oysters, scallops, shrimp, a crabcake and two hushpuppies. You don't just get 3 or 4 of each of those either....I talkin' like 8 or 10. PLUS, you also got two sides to go with it. I recommend the garlic bread and coleslaw...Mmmmm, mmmm.
I'm totally salivating now.
The boy got a fried clam strip plate with fries and the girl got the crab legs appetizer which was plenty for her.
We all devoured our food. There was so much there, I couldn't eat it all which is unheard of for me. EVERYTHING was so delicious! The oysters had a nice saltiness to them, the cocktail sauce wasn't too cocktaily, the sweet tea was awesome and the dinners were perfectly cooked.
Everything was so awesome that Jerm and I went back with the kids the next night. The wait wasn't quite as long (but still about 45 minutes) and this time we ended up sitting at the bar. We ordered two dozen oysters which were shucked right there in front of us.

Despite what a few of the reviews said about experiences with rude waitstaff, everyone we had contact with was nothin' but awesome.


We ended up ordering the same thing we had the first time we went. The amount of food you get for the money is outrageous. I seriously woulda eaten at this place every freakin' night if my wallet coulda sustained it. Not that it was expensive by any means, we were just vacationing on a MAJOR budget this year.

If you go to Panama City Beach you MUST eat at Hunt's. I mean MUST. Expect a long wait. It's well worth it. There's plenty of people watchin' to do though.

....just know that your mouth will be graced with food from the gods.

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