I Know What You Did With Those Binoculars

My buddy Gini wrote a hilarious post involving her neighbors and a pair of binoculars.  Check it out here!  I promise you will laugh and be disgusted at the same time.  Anyway, it got me to thinking about my mother-in-law and her fondness of binoculars.

I know a lot of people have mother-in-law problems, but I guess I'm lucky.  My mother-in-law (heretofore referred to as MIL) is fabulous, and has provided a wealth of entertainment for us throughout the years.

MIL is in her 70's and she and FIL live on a public dead-end road without much traffic.  She has a computer now, so she amuses herself by sending dirty e-mails and lists of diseases she thinks we may have.  If you have a sore toe? Cancer.  A headache?  Aneurysm.  An upset stomach?  Bubonic plague.

Before she got a computer, MIL kept herself busy by keeping an eye on the neighbors and what was going on up and down their road.  When we would call to check in with them, she would often give us a daily traffic update.

MIL:  A strange truck drove down our road today.
Me:  What was strange about it?
MIL:  Well, I've never seen it before.  It was blue.
Me:  Blue?
MIL:  Yes!  Do you think I should call the sheriff?
Me:  Because it was blue?  Did they do anything suspicious?
MIL:  Yes, they drove down the road and then backed out and left.
Me:  Hmmmm.
MIL:  I called all of the neighbors, and no one was expecting anyone today.
Me:  Maybe they were just lost and so they turned around and left?
MIL:  Dunno...I think I should call the sheriff.
Me:  Or maybe a SWAT team?
MIL:  Are you being a smart ass?
Me:  Yes, ma'am.

So when MIL wasn't monitoring the traffic situation, she liked to break out her binoculars and snoop check on the neighbors.  The people who lived on one side of her were a couple named Cathy and Don. 

Through MIL's snooping monitoring, we got lots of info on Cathy and Don.  For example, Cathy liked to walk around her house naked - "that floozy!"  Through chatting with Cathy, MIL learned that Don was "impotent."  That last word was always whispered. "He's impotent....shhhh."  MIL said that she didn't see how Cathy dealt with that because "even though I'm much older than her, I still have the urge to..."

{ME WITH FINGERS IN EARS}   "La la la la...TMI, Mom!"  Though I plugged my ears, this little exchange produced some mental images that hurt my brain, and I'm still to this day trying to forget them.  A Valium-vodka-Prozac cocktail with a side of cookies sometimes helps.

So dear MIL has the binoculars out one day to inspect the area for serial killers in blue trucks when, lo and behold, the binoculars somehow pointed themselves at Cathy's house. 

Huh. Is that....?  Why, yes, yes it is!  Naked Cathy had binoculars and they were pointed straight at MIL!  Oh, my dear MIL was pissed!

She called me...

MIL:  Do you know what that bitch Cathy was doing today?
Me:  No, what?
MIL:  She was looking in my window with her binoculars!!!
Me:  Oh no!  How do you know?
MIL:  Well, I was looking through her window with my binoculars, and there she was looking back at me with HER binoculars.
Me:  Ummmmmm...
MIL:  Can you believe the nerve of that woman?
Me:  Uhhhhh....so what did you do?
MIL:  Well, I pulled down my pants and mooned the bitch!

I freakin' LOVE my mother-in law!!!  As long as I don't have to live next to her.....

I Wanna Be A Halloween Ho

I’m sure most of you are aware that, in many instances, there is a double standard between men and women. Don’t worry; this is not one of those woe-is-me-women-have-it-so-hard-compared-to-men posts. I know that many women have to work and take care of the kids and the house and still get paid less than men, BUT men have to kill spiders and set mouse traps and stuff, so it pretty much comes out even in my book.

However, never do you encounter such a blatant example of double standard-ism as you do during Halloween. Have any of you ladies tried to find a Halloween costume that doesn’t make you look like a two-dollar whore? In some cases, you may WANT to look like a two-dollar whore, but try finding a costume appropriate to wear to a kid event. Practically every costume name is preceded by the words “Sexy,” “Naughty,” or “Slutty.”

Who wants to show up at the school’s fall festival dressed up as a slutty clown?

I found her in a clown gang-bang the back of one of those clown cars.

Seriously? I really have to applaud these costume-makers for their creativity. They can totally sleeze out the most mundane and unsexy things! How about Sexy SpongeBob?



I'll bet she can do that sultry SpongeBob laugh.

When you think about Olive Oyl from the Popeye cartoons and movie, I’m sure you automatically say, “Now there’s a foxy mama!”  Somehow, they've even managed to make this costume kinda slutty.

I yam what I yam, and a ho's what I yam.

This is one costume that would not work for me. Olive Oyl is supposed to be….ummm…flat-chested. And I’m….ummmm…let’s go with busty. Yeah that’s it. I would have to tape and flatten those suckers down so much that it would probably be reminiscent of the penis tucker scene in Silence of the Lambs. Then I could walk around all night saying, “It rubs the olive oil on its skin.”  Maybe the costume designers could come up with a sexy Hannibal Lecter costume for women. After all, they have this one:



One, two, Naughty Freddy's coming for you!

Nothing gets me hotter than thinking about being slashed to death in my sleep!

Now for the double standard part of it.  Check out the male versus female versions of these costumes.  Shall we start with the medical profession?


Nurse costume - very sexy.



Doctor costume - not so sexy.

Hopefully, that nurse doesn't work on the cardiac floor.  Can you imagine the effects on some old man's EKG if she walked in the room?  The man in the doctor costume is a good-looking dude, but couldn't the costume show a little more chest or something? 


Now let's look at the representatives from the airline industry:

More nuts, sir?

I think I see about a quarter inch of his chest....oooh!

This pilot actually looks like a pilot.  The flight attendant looks like a stripper with a stupid hat.

Let's see about the law enforcement costumes:

Fishnets?  Really?



Look!  You can see his forearms!

In my opinion, the police chick would probably cause more crime than she would prevent.  Why can't the dude wear some little shorts like Lieutenant Dangle from Reno 911?  I wouldn't mind seeing a little leg on this guy!  Cuff me, officer...I've been a baaaad girl!

On a similar note, let's check out the fine folks from the fire department:

Smokin' HOT!

Smokin'.....NOT!

Again, the man's costume is pretty authentic.  However, I don't think that chick is going to be able to fight many fires in those hooker boots.

Now we move on to military-themed costumes:

God bless America!

Show us some skin, sailor!

If I look at the man's costume, I immediately know that he's supposed to be a sailor.  If I look at the woman's costume, I think she's part of a nautical-themed Vegas show.

Next category:

Cute and sassy!

Dorkiest shit I've ever seen!

Good Lord!  A bustier and thigh high stockings versus knee-length shorts and knee-high socks.  This is NOT FAIR!

Pirates are pretty popular costumes these days, so let's analyze these:

Arrrgh!  Sexpot!

Ehhhhh....cheesy.

Is that woman really supposed to be a pirate?  Correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't think that pirates wore a  lot of lace.  And what is up with the guy's expression?  I think he's supposed to look fierce, but in that get-up, he just looks constipated.

In the Twilight era, vampires costumes are making a big comeback:


Vampire or prostitute?



Fairly authentic vampire.

The woman has cleavage, spaghetti straps, thigh-high boots.  The guy is covered from head to toe.  Again, NOT FAIR to the ladies!

On to ancient Egypt:

Cleopatra wore sparkly spandex and heels?

Flip flops?  At least he's showing a little leg.

So, basically women have to dress like hookers at Halloween, and men just dress like dweebs.  Ya know, women would like a little eye candy too!  If women have to show boobs and ass, why can't we have more male whore-type costumes?  Maybe some really tight pants that will show off their package?  Yeah guys, we like to look too!  However, all of the women are dressed like wet dreams AND have to wear those uncomfortable friggin' high-heeled shoes.  The men get to be totally covered from the neck down AND they wear goddamn loafers!

Double standards are a bitch!

It's The Great Pumpkin, Bitches!

Let me take you back - waaaay back. Now close your eyes…NO, WAIT…better keep them open so you can read the rest of my post.

Just relax, and think about when you were a small child, in October, sitting in front of the console TV that had a 12 inch screen and took up half of the friggin‘ living room. You see the commercial you’ve been waiting for: The Charlie Brown Halloween Special is coming on this week!

Then your mom burns the gravy and you have to evacuate the house until the smoke clears out.

Damn! You missed which night Charlie Brown is supposed to show! What to do? What to do? Oh yes, the TV Guide. You manage to weed through that great conglomeration of 6-point font and advertisements, and see that it’s coming on TV on Thursday.

So you make note of the date, time, and channel. When Thursday rolls around, you make sure to have all of your homework done so your parents don’t make you miss the one show you’ve been waiting for all year! And you beg your mom not to make gravy that night. Just in case.

The show comes on, and you watch it, complete with commercials for all of the newest toys. You start mentally making your Christmas list. You laugh at Snoopy’s antics, wonder what purpose Woodstock is supposed to serve, roll your eyes at Lucy’s bitchiness, lament Charlie Brown’s stupidity, feel jealousy at Pig Pen’s apparent lack of strict parental units, and marvel at Linus’s gullability. Ahhh, the memories!

Now fast-forward to 2010. Let’s assume you are a child. You are in the living room watching the 72 inch flat screen plasma TV. The Charlie Brown commercial comes on right about the time your mom burns the tofu burgers and sets off the smoke alarm. You hit pause. After the excitement, you continue watching TV, RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT OFF. You see that the Charlie Brown special is coming on Thursday, so you set the DVR to record it so you can watch it later and forward through the commercials. You don’t need no stinking commercials! You do all of your shopping online on your customized laptop or on your iPhone.

 And kids today complain that their lives are hard! I just saw the commercial advertising the Charlie Brown Halloween special, and I have to admit that I got a childish little thrill. That is, until I watched the whole commercial. Apparently, Charlie Brown has gone gansta, biatches. Yes. Charlie. Cracker-Ass. Brown. Is. Rapping. Here are the lyrics:

 Hey party people, it’s Charlie B.
Bringin Halloween grooves at ABC.
Rakin leaves and rollin on a pumpkin
Trick or treat then the party gets thumpin.

 Lucy’s getting bossy; Snoopy’s feelin saucy.
{Unintelligible something something} posse.
But where is Linus? This party is posh.
He’s waitin in the field for a mythical squash.

 Word.

 OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY! WHAT THE HELL?

 “Word.” He actually said, “word.” Who decided to turn one of childhood’s most beloved characters into Vanilla Ice? Or would it be Brown Ice? Vanilla Brown?

"Word to yo mutha!"

And he talked about his posse. Look, if your group of friends includes a dude that carries a blankie, then perhaps “posse” is not the appropriate word for you. I don’t even think I could, in good conscience, let Charlie B. use the word “homies.”

 

I wonder if Schroeder, the piano prodigy on the show, is planning to drop the piano and start scratching on the turn tables. And Snoopy could change his name to…well, Snoop Dogg. However, if I see Peppermint Patti in booty shorts and a crop top, I swear to God I will get a gun and shoot my TV.

 I can’t wait to see what the network executives have planned for Christmas:

 Santa Claus Is Coming to the Hizzouse


Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer Goes to Rehab for Cocaine Addiction


How the Grinch Jacked Christmas


Frosty the Blow Man


Miracle on Swag Street


Ahhhhh, good times with the family. I’m outta here, bitches. Word.

Think You Might Be Possessed?: A Comprehensive Guide

It’s Halloween time, that time of year when people all over America stop to ponder whether or not they are possessed by the devil or some other evil spirit.


What? Halloween is about kids eating candy and women dressing up as sluts? It’s not about evil beings molesting you and stealing your soul?


Well, that’s not what I was lead to believe by Angie over at Like She’s Somebody. She and her daughter went to see a scary movie, and now she has, ummm, concerns. Has her body been overtaken by demons, or is she just an obsessive nut? I’ll give you some guidelines via the Jeff Foxworthy “You might be a redneck…” approach, and you can decide for yourself.


If yoooooou……..


Have legions of minions who follow and worship you…you might be possessed (or Justin Bieber.)


If yoooooou……..


Wake up and there is green vomit spewed all over your walls…you might be possessed (or have Mad Cow Disease.)


If yoooooou……..


Look in the mirror and your face is pointed in the opposite direction of your nipples…you might be possessed (or Rosie O’Donnell.)


If yoooooou……..


look in the mirror and your skin is literally peeling off in great black chunks….you might be possessed (or a zombie…or Elizabeth Taylor….these may be the same thing…not sure.)


If yoooooou……..


Routinely eat small varmints like raccoons, rats, or squirrels…you might be possessed (or Ozzy Osbourne, unless you grill them first, and then you’re just a redneck.)


If yoooooou……..


Like snakes…you might be possessed. (Unless you are the Crocodile Hunter, but wait - he’s dead. So yeah, you’re definitely possessed. Sorry!)


If yoooooou……..


Can communicate with the spirit of Adolph Hitler…you might be possessed (or Mel Gibson.)


If yoooooou……..


Scare cats just by looking at them…you might be possessed (or a dog).


If yoooooou……..


Often speak with a demonic voice that doesn’t belong to you and you make strange noises and odd faces…you might be possessed (or Jim Carrey.)


If yoooooou……..


Slap a priest upside the head and he hasn’t even molested you…you might be possessed (or Bobby Brown…or Chris Brown.)


If yoooooou……..


Often hear creepy voices in your walls, telling you to “GETTT OUTTTT,”…your house might be possessed. Burn it down NOW!


Well, I think that’s all the guidelines I have for now. I hope this has been helpful for you. Now I’ve gotta go clean the green vomit and bat blood off of my walls. Don’t know how that got there….hmmmm….

Awards Out the Wazoo!

Wow! I have got blogging awards out the wazoo! Actually, it's just two, but to tell you the truth, I don't know where my wazoo is. So, I want to be safe and not have more than 2 awards coming out of there at any one time. I'm just glad I don't have awards up the ying yang (YOWTCH!)

The first award is the Content Underrated Award for blogs that don't get the following and recognition they deserve. I am totally flattered to receive this award from Jeff at Content Unrelated. I'm glad that I am able to amuse him enough for him to think I should be recognized. If you haven't read Jeff's blog, you are missing out on some funny stuff! Go there now....hurry up! I'm trying to accept an award here!

To accept this illustrious award, here are the rules:

1. Give it to other people. As many or as few as you'd like. Pretend it's your college degree and wipe your ass with it. I don't care.

(Hey Jeff, that's just one rule!)

Here are the honored recipients for the Content Underrated award.  Please go check these folks out.  They are funny and smart, and deserve your recognition and support.

Like She's Somebody - Angie is hilarious and quirky and always makes me smile!  She might even set her hair on fire for your entertainment. 
The Big Fat Gini Blog - Gini is a total nut, and I adore her!  I get a little shiver up my leg when she posts something new.
99 Cent Discount Blog - The inner workings of Erik's brain at a low, low price.
Bad Girl Bloggers - Not for the prudes.  These bad girls will discuss any topic with total honesty.  Love 'em!
Your Baby is an Asshole - Just go.  You'll see!
Hello, Sailor - The Barreness holds court here.  She's quite the naughty girl!
Living Dead Nurse - An ER nurse who tells the stories you want to hear and also gives advice on how to survive Halloween without being murdered by a chainsaw psycho.
My Game...it's your move - Blase' is random and funny as hell!  I can always count on him to surprise me and make me laugh.
________________________________________________________________________


The second award is the One Lovely Blog Award.  I received it from Jessica at Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot.  Jessica is a total hoot!  And I'm not just saying that because she thinks my blog is lovely.  She writes honestly and with a comedic flair!  Go see her now and then come back for the rest of the awards presentation.  I'll make cookies while you're gone.   

Well, you took too long and I ate all the cookies, so I guess I'll get on with presenting the One Lovely Blog award to the following:

Crazy Daze and Nite Dreams
Ain't Nothin But A Thang
Ambiguously Shallow
Boobies, Babies, and a Blog
The Badass Geek
Steam Me Up, Kid
Laughing Monkey Stick

Go check out these amazing blogs!  I think you'll love them as much as I do!  Thanks again to Jeff at Content Unrelated and Jessica at Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot for making me feel all special-like.

Another Classy Post About Fart Lighting

Hey! Guess what? I’ve got another story about fart lighting. Don’t you feel fortunate to know a blogger that actually has 2 stories on this topic. I know it’s rare to find someone with this kind of talent, but here I am!


I have two cousins who I grew up with. To protect the semi-innocent, we will call them Faye and Raymond. Well, Raymond announced that he was getting married to his long-time girlfriend. He’s totally insane, so we weren’t sure he would ever convince anyone to marry him. However, “Tori” agreed to marry into our family.  We promised her a set of Ginsu knives...I think that helped.


Faye, my mom, and I decided to throw Raymond and Tori an engagement party. We came up with the idea of a wine and cheese party. Sounds lovely and elegant, right? Eh, that’s what we were going for, but elegance just doesn’t seem to run in our family.


First of all, as we were picking out wine Faye wanted to get some Boone’s Farm. Nothing says class like Strawberry Hill, right? So my mom, who was a total hoot (she’s passed away…more on her later), decided we should have a “cheap section” of wine. Mom and Faye thought this idea was just freakin’ hilarious! Now, this was the first time we were meeting most of the bride’s family, and I wasn’t sure if they were as goofy as us, but I relented. I mean, who doesn’t get a chuckle when they see a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20, right?


In order to maintain some semblance of tastefulness, I chose some lovely wines and cheeses. Then I printed out some cute little labels for the different cheeses and polished up the good silver platters and wine glasses. We were having the party at my house, so I even vacuumed the carpet and cleaned the toilet, even though the carpet was shaggy gold and the toilet was avocado green and both would be ugly no matter how much cleaning and scrubbing I performed.


Anyhoo, about 30 people showed up to this little soiree. I stuck the cheap stuff on a little table over in the corner. I was hoping no one would see it, despite the 3 foot “Trashy Section” sign that Faye had made. We had Mad Dog, two varieties of Boone’s Farm, a bottle of Thunderbird, and some welfare cheese on this table. I know, you all wish you had been there for this fine event!


Everyone was having a great time sampling the wines and cheeses, and Tori’s family even got a kick out of the white trash area. So all was well….until….


Faye had been tapping into the Strawberry Hill all evening. I knew things were going to get out of hand when she started drinking the Mad Dog 20/20. Ruh roh, Scooby Doo!


For some reason, she decided it would be a good idea to try and light a fart. Now, our family is into scientific theory, so she decided to test her hypothesis that a post-alcohol poot could be lit. I’m still not sure why she didn’t go to some fancy Ivy League school.


So Faye hiked up her leg - did I mention that she was wearing a skirt? - and tried to hold a lighter “down there.” She fell over. At this point, some of the grandparents decided it was time to depart. Perhaps they wanted to avoid a scene involving the fire department and ambulance service. I tried to go with them, but the party was at our house and Signore Sexy Pants said I had to stay.  Damn you, Signore Sexy Pants!  Damn you, I say!


Faye, in her infinite drunken wisdom, came up with the idea that someone else should hold the lighter for her so she could concentrate on producing gas and holding her leg up without tipping over. She headed toward me with the lighter. Shit! I immediately made myself look busy by searching for the fire extinguisher and looking up the number for the fire department. While I was honored to be her first choice for the position of lighter-holder, I was wearing a lot of hairspray and didn’t think it would be prudent to be near a potentially explosive fireball. I liked my hair, and didn’t want to pull a Michael Jackson. (I speak, of course, of the Pepsi-commercial-with-hair-on-fire Micheal, not the singing-dancing-young boy-loving Michael.)


Faye goes to find Raymond to give him the distinctive position of flame holder. I’m thinking that this cannot be good for anyone involved because Raymond had been chugging Thunderbird like it was...well, Thunderbird. Raymond kneels down to be closer to the, ummmm, action area. He lights the lighter and Faye holds onto the couch and hikes her leg like a dog on a hydrant. At this point, I am doing my best flight attendant impression and pointing out the exits to all of the guests. Lordy, why didn’t we have gas masks that would fall from the ceiling in case of fire or a drop in cabin pressure?


A little crowd had gathered around the scene, mostly guys…and my mom, who just loved shit like this. Faye lets one rip, everyone cheers, and the poot blows out the flame on the lighter. No explosions or fireballs…whew! She begins doing some funny little squats, I guess trying to prime herself for more gas expulsions. She’s still wearing a skirt, by the way. They proceeded to do more lighting and farting, but they never achieved the desired effect of catching my couch on fire. Thank you, 8 pound, 6 ounce sweet little infant baby Jesus!


I guess perhaps Faye should have eaten some Mexican food and maybe drank some higher-proof liquor before attempting this little feat. Every brave soul who was still left at the party had a fun time and actually enjoyed the impromptu entertainment. Maybe our friends and family aren’t as classy as we thought they were.


But you wanna know something ironic? The person who thought this whole fart-lighting extravaganza was the funniest was Faye’s husband - and he’s a firefighter. So much for the notion that firefighters are fire safety experts…..

The moral of the story is:  Never ignore an invitation to one of my parties - you never know what's gonna happen!

Never Try to Light a Fart on a Plane…..I’m Just Sayin’

Well, my tasty critters, I have returned from Las Vegas, basically in one piece. If you didn’t know, I injured my ankle before I left. Here is that charming story (along with pictures), if you haven’t seen it. I decided to just take one crutch since I had to get to the airport with luggage, purse, and computer bag, so having only one hand free just wouldn’t cut it.

 The morning I was to leave, I wrapped my ankle and foot up tightly with an Ace bandage and tried to put on a shoe. Well, the damn foot was so swollen, I couldn’t get any kind of shoe on. I tried, flip flops, tennis shoes (unlaced), hubby’s shoes, and even slippers. Hell, if Andre the Giant had loaned me a shoe, I’m not sure it would have fit. So I just put on one of Signore Sexy Pants’s socks.

 I drove 3 hours to the airport, so of course I had to go to the bathroom as soon as I got there. With just a sock on. EWWWW! The bathroom was like a minefield of little pee puddles surrounding the toilets. What the hell, people? Is that humongous opening on the toilet too small a target for you to hit? It just makes you wonder where some people were raised. Do they piss on the floor at home? Are they from some third-world country where you just let it loose on the floor? Hey, at least they made it INTO the bathroom. I guess that’s good enough for some people. Luckily, I had packed a couple of extra socks, so I threw the first one away and put on a fresh one. Then I rubbed my entire body down with hand sanitizer.

 I got on the plane, and a middle-aged man sat beside me. He seemed pretty normal…until the plane started taxiing down the runway. Then the man closed his eyes and started chanting. Yes, chanting! What the f????

 “Ummm, flight attendant, can we please lock Muhammed here in the bathroom or something? And did security remember to check his shoes, inspect his panties, and make sure he doesn't have more than 3 ounces of shampoo in his bag?”

 Yeah, yeah…I went there. I’m politically incorrect. Whatevs! You know it would have freaked you out, at least just a little bit. Come on, admit it!

 So when the plane gets in the air, Abdul stops chanting and just stares at the seat back in front of him. He never looked away from it during the entire flight. Never spoke a word, even when the flight attendant asked for drink orders. He didn’t bat an eye when we were offered peanuts or pretzels. Now that’s just weird. I don’t care who you are. If someone offers you a soda and a free bag of salty awesomeness, how can you ignore them?

 The dude was definitely a wing nut, so I kept my crutch nearby in case I had to open a can of whoop ass on the plane. You know I would have, because that’s how I roll. I guess he was intimidated by my badassness, because he never even tried to light a fart.

Hey, wouldn’t that be an awesome tool for terrorists? Fart lighting? If this idea ever catches on, we’re all going to have to undergo a friggin’ colonoscopy by TSA before we can board a flight. It will be illegal to eat at Taco Bell within 24 hours before departure.


Security: Did you pack your own bags?

 Me: No, I let my neighbor’s kid pack for me…the kid who tortures animals and cuts himself.

Security: Okay. Do you have more than 3 ounces of fluid in your bag.

 Me: Yes, I’m carrying a large can of lighter fluid. And a fifth of Jack Daniels.

Security: Do you have any explosives in your underwear?

Me: No, but I am packing C-4 in my bra.

Security: Fine. What about your shoes?

Me: I have a Roman Candle in my sock.

Security: Alright. Have you eaten any burritos, tacos, nachos, enchiladas, chili rellenos, quesadillas, fajitas, salsa, jalepenos, or any chili-based products in the last 24 hours?

Me: Why, yes. I had a Taco El Supremo on the drive up here.

{SIRENS AND ALARM BELLS BEGIN DINGING LOUDLY}

Security: Miss, we’re going to need you to drop your pants and kneel down on this table so we can check your rectum for explosive gases.

Me: Someone hand me that bottle of Jack out of my purse. And find Bubba the security guard some lube, please!


Seriously, though. Other than Mr. Chanty Pants, the trip was uneventful. The airline was very helpful and considerate, and the flights were smooth. I’ve got much more to tell you, but we’ll save that for another day.

The One-Legged Opto-Mom Goes to Vegas

I had the WORST day on Saturday.  I woke up with an upset stomach, but went ahead to work, even though I felt like crapola.  I made it through the workday, and headed home.  When I got home, I found a lovely little snake on my front porch.  UGH!  If you don't know how I feel about snakes, read this.  I called Signore Sexy Pants, and he left his friend's house to come home and rescue me from the little green grass snake big giant anaconda.  When he arrived, I was curled up on the bed sucking my thumb with the blankets over my head.  What?  A bit dramatic? 

Anyway, the snake was gone when he got there, which kind of freaks me out even more than seeing the slithery little bastard in the first place.  So I got my stuff together to go with my husband to band practice.  My stomach was feeling much better, we were rocking out to the band (the name of the band is "SnakeBone" by the way), and I was sipping a Patron margarita.  Things were definitely looking up! 

Well, the band dudes have to stop playing at 10:00 p.m. because the neighbor (Larry) starts calling about the noise at 10:01.  We call it Larry Standard Time.  So we decided to meet some friends who were celebrating a birthday at a local bar.  I walked out to get in the truck, and that's where the trouble started.

Apparently, walking is too difficult a task for me.  I was actually stepping off a curb, which is a trick move in my world.  I twisted my ankle and landed FLAT. ON. MY BACK.  I did receive a 9.8 from the German judge, though I think I would have gotten a 10 if I had stuck the landing.

Here's a little hint for you guys.....don't mix Patron with wedge heels.  Follow my advice or this may happen to you:



At least my toenails look good.


This happened Saturday night, and I'm supposed to go to Las Vegas on Tuesday (tomorrow!).  How the hell am I supposed to get to the airport, check my luggage, get on and then off the plane, retrieve my luggage, and get to the hotel while on crutches?

But don't you worry!  I AM GOING TO LAS VEGAS!!!!  No matter what!  If I have to tie my suitcase around my waist with my own intestines and drag it by crawling to the terminal, I WILL be on that plane.  I am meeting my two awesome aunts (Beverly and Mary) there, and we are going to have a blast.  Can someone please call Vegas and warn them that we are on our way?  They may need to assemble a SWAT team or the National Guard.  Or maybe they can just have some EMT's follow me around in case I decide to break my toe or sprain my hair or something.

When I told Aunt Beverly about my accident, here is what she said, "I don't know if a one-legged niece can keep up with me and Wild Mary."  This is my first trip to Vegas, and they are determined to show me a good time.  I think I'm slightly afraid..... 

It may be a good idea for me to stay away from the casinos, since my luck hasn't exactly been stellar lately.  But I will probably drop a coin or two.  Wish me luck!