Don't Mess With Texas

Not even if you are a 72 year old woman. Or maybe especially if you are a 72 year old woman. If busted, you can count on 3 things: getting pushed, tazed, and tossed in the can - evidently all are appropriate, warranted, and by the book actions.

What the...???

What I see here is a sassy ol' Texan gal with an attitude and probably a brass bra. Was she breaking the law? Well, yes, she was caught speeding 15 miles an hour over the legal limit in a work zone. This broad may even prove to be the inspiration behind Hallmark's Maxine, but tazing her? Seriously?

I suppose using a little 'charm psychology' never crossed Rosco P. Coltrain's mind?

Here's a little hint for ya Rosco - things would have run a whole lot smoother had you simply poured a little honey on the situation. You didn't have to pull the tazer trigger just because she double dawg dared you to. And why'd you let her get out of the truck anyways? Was she drunk? Have dead bodies in the pickup bed? Suspected of smuggling Bo & Luke Duke out of Hazard County and into Texas to sell Uncle Jesse's moonshine because time's are tough and Cousin Daisy's tips down at the Boars Nest just ain't what they used to be?

Work on your approach buddy. Next time you pull over an old lady with a lead foot, ask her where the fire is. Or if there's a coffee pot sale at Sears that you're missing out on. Or something funny that makes her admit to the fact that she is speeding so you can write your precious ticket and meet your daily quota. I didn't go to police man school and even I know what works. To be fair, I respect what you do. Admire it even. But under that uniform you are a man who crossed a line - and you clearly have unresolved mother issues.

Does anyone have Tom Hanks phone number?

If ever a person needed Tom Hanks right now, it's me. I have this whole "Angel & Demons" dilemma and he appears to be the leading most aficionado.

Do you see these?

These are from the devil.

The devil I tell you!

I know, I know, the yummy-stuff centers certainly look like the work of angels in heaven. Especially STRAWBERRY MILKSHAKE yummy-stuff centers, all pretty in pink and innocent looking and delicious tasting. I swear, if you close your eyes when you take a bite you can almost see the puffy cloud Oreo factory in the sky.

But we must be careful! We mustn't let our imaginations or tummy growls get the best of us.

We must examine the multitude of sins going on with these cookies. Like, for instance, why they are so expensive? $4.19 a pack! Let me say that louder: $4.19 a smaller than average pack people! Is that not insane? And calories? Might as well open a Bed & Breakfast for all the cellulite thats gonna be popping in.

Angels aren't mean spirited swindlers! They wouldn't dream of doing that to us!

It isn't fair! I am so confused! I am using way to many exclamation points!

Are Strawberry Milkshake Oreo cookies from Angels or Demons?

Darn that Food Lion grocery store for putting the tortilla chips in the same aisle as all those little Keebler elves and the rest of the satanic sweet treats. I bet the Piggly Wiggly doesn't engage in such trickery.

So please y'all, if you know Tom, can you call him for me? Tell him I promise I am not crazy and I know its humid and all here in Virginia, but his sluething powers are desperately needed. I can't pay him, so it'll have to be pro-bono work, but I figure he can claim it on his taxes as a charitable contribution.


PS: I totally feel the need to tell you that I actually paid $2.99 thanks to being a key-chain-carrying-MVP customer. I am also not usually a cookie buyer, I like to make them at home - twice as much for a smidge of the cost - but the devil made me do it. Either that, or my judgement is clouded due to consuming waaaay too much sweet tea.

I have a bone to pick with Mother Nature...

It's icky sticky here on the coast of Southern Virginia today, bleh! We're running the A/C non-stop just to keep from becoming suicidal....which is sort of a catch-22 because when the power bill arrives it will likely make us homicidal. And it's not even summertime yet!!!

It's not the heat that bothers me so much. The heat I can handle, the heat I love, the heat is my friend. BRING ON THE HEAT! I'm a California kid, so dry heat of 103+ degree's?
Walk.
In.
The.
Park.
Baby!
Love it!

But the key word there is DRY. All I ever needed to keep my body happy was ice water for the insides and good suntan lotion for the outsides.

But here? On a humid day from hades like this? I want to die with a fork in my eye.

And my hair? It looks like someone electrocuted a Labradoodle and laid it to rest on my head. "Here lies Fluffy Muffy" should be tattooed on my scalp. And thats after I have flat ironed it within an inch of life.

And my pores? So huge that bumble bee's have been known to mistake my face for a giant talking honeycomb. I swat and yell and run and they chase me anyways. My husband says to stay calm and stand still. Sure. Yeah. That's gonna work. What does he know anyways? He's never been attacked by a buzzing army of yellow & black devils. Bumble bee's are evil and that's that.

Oh and just forget about the lotion right here and now. It doesn't melt into my skin for that baby bum softness. Instead it forms a latex barrier that cool air (should I find any) cannot penetrate. A veritable 45 SPF Coppertone condom.

God bless Virginia's heart, it's a beautiful little Commonwealth. Nothing beats the cherry blossoms in spring and the leaves in fall. But winter makes me sad with all the nekked tree's and summer makes me melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.

I admit, I'm a little hostile today. It doesn't help that my flying monkey, I mean child, has decided to open and close the front door 13,426 times.

My saving grace? SWEET TEA of course! Amen for that sugary goodness.

skool iz fun, part 2

Update on THE SIGN over at the school my son goes to…it’s fixed! You know why? Because I emailed the principal. Yep, sure did.


I hesitated at first because I didn’t want to be all Nellie Olson about it, but I soon realized that I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t

She was all “Oh how embarrassing”.

And I was all “You think?”

And yesterday, heads probably rolled.

So it’s taken care of and people can’t drive by and laugh and my little man’s school anymore. Not even me.

But you know what else I noticed about THE SIGN? It says:
“Your Attitude Determines Your Altitude”.

I don’t think I like this you guys. I mean, where does that leave reading and writing and arithmetic and SPELLING? Plus? It’s way too open to interpretation. Because like, what KIND of attitude are they looking for here? You all know as well as I do that there are some (brats) kids that should (be pinched hard on the arm) get their attitudes checked at the door. I’m just saying.

skool iz fun

I know it's not Thousand Word Thursday anymore, but I have another picture for you that I absolutely could not wait a week to show you.

The first thing you need to know is that I took this picture my very own self, with my very own little camera, and the only altering that has been done to it is that I removed the school's name in two places - for personal reasons I know everyone understands.

The next thing you need to know is that my son who attends this school is dyslexic.

Apparently, so is the sign-putter-upper.



KinTergarDen? Really? Kintergarden. Say it out loud, its fun. Kintergarden. And then you can't stop. Kintergarden. See what I mean?

Sounds like something you'd learn about from Martha Stewart.

"Today I am going to show you how to plant your very own kinter garden, perfect for every season, every climate. So stay tuned, it's a good thing."

What's awesome is that it's been this way all flippin' week! Five whole days in a row to get it corrected. Five whole days!

And it's not like they were short on letters and forced to substitute as best they could, the letters they need are RIGHT THERE BEFORE THEIR EYES!

"No need to buy a vowel Pat, I'd like to solve the puzzle..."

OK, so we can all agree that I am no genius, and while my hubby has sung the words "She's a brick house, she's mighty mighty" in my general direction on occasion, I am by no means brick school house. Nor a fully accredited institution for learning.

So...should I email it to the local newspaper??? Or hide my face in shame that I send my baby boy here 5 days a week for an edu-macashun?