Stupid Shit

Pass the Perfume and Bring Me a Fan


This weekend I found out that I am getting to the age where going to the bathroom in a clean restroom is a right, not a privilege. You would think that since the porta potty was invented in 1962 by George Harding that it would have come a longer way in 60 plus years.

But it hasn’t.

Initially this device was invented for people who built and worked on ships-because finding a place to shit on a ship closer to the area you worked in was a necessity. Designed on the outhouse concept, ship workers were having to leave and walk all the way back to the docks to go drop the kids off at the pool. Made of wood and metal at first, they found that they were smelly.


So in the 1970’s they were made of fiberglass. They are still smelly. But on the flip side (ok, porta potty joke inserted here heh heh) they are lighter and easier to transport. And clean. The cleaning part is selective at events. Some do every day, some wait till the end.

Obviously where I was this weekend, they waited till the end.

Now I know us gals are for equal rights and all that but I am sorry, I just CAN’T go in a plastic crapper right after a 300 lb guy with tats, a Big Gulp and an ‘I’m with Stupid’ shirt on comes rambling out the door.


I. Just. Can’t.

At the end of the day, I’m still a delicate southern belle with (some) manners and a personal hygiene fetish. Showers are important to my mental and physical health. And so are clean hands.

And clean hienie.


I consider it the lowest depths of hell to go in a plastic box with an open toilet in 86 degree heat to get some relief. I’d rather wear astronaut diapers to an event than go in one of those things again.

I participated in an antique festival this weekend and besides the slow sales, me and the girls all around me were laughing AND complaining about the relief stations. I swear, we would have paid a dollar a poop to go in an air-conditioned, clean women’s room if they had it. Because in reality the people who make the most money at these things are the guy selling the funnel cakes, corn dogs and water at two bucks a bottle. Which is why they need these things.

I’m sensing a business here. Can you see me, in a pink trailer with ladies rooms, air conditioning, working sinks, fans-at a dollar a drop? I’m going to call it The Princess Pooper and am going on Shark Tank for funding.

Don’t steal my idea. I know lawyers.

So please Festival people, concert promoters, party planners, and all, at least can you DESIGNATE the chick shitter???? Would it kill you? Could the Porta Potty makers make pink potties with fans for goodness sakes?

Just until I get my funding.

You’re invited to my launch party. Bring a fan.

FUN FACT: The world record for the most porta potties assembled at one time occurred in 2009. During the inauguration of President Barack Obama, 5,000 porta potties were rented for the attendees of the event.

Oh those crazy Democrats…

I only need 12 MORE LIKES on my Facebook page right up there to the right to get to 2000-LIKE Forever 51 and I promise to keep us both entertained.

Welcome to EATcopalypse 2014!

The Southeast got over 4 inches. The Northeast is bracing for up to 14 inches. All diet centers have closed for the time being. No meetings, weigh ins, consultations. Some gyms are open. Power is a issue all over the Eastern US. Yet, grocery stores have been wiped out. Especially prior to these storms. We will NOT go hungry.

It’s not Snowcopalypse 2014, its EATcopalypse 2014!

And this is one of two pantries we have....
And this is one of two pantries we have….

Why do these storms make us think we will run out of food? It’s not like we, as a society, really keep bare pantries.  And bread and milk? Funny, the gluten free posts have stopped on my timeline. Even Wheat Belly has taken a break.

Working out? Those of you who find it necessary to tell us about your long walk/run in the wind and snow, just watch this:


God is good. It’s dangerous out there folks…

In my household, the eat-a-thon began Tuesday.  So far we have gone through a package of Oreos, tortilla chips, jar of salsa, a dozen cranberry orange muffins, hot dogs, popcorn, sodas, lemonade (and vodka), red wine, beer, salad, steak and chicken, potatoes, Frosted Flakes, trail mix, cheese, chicken salad from Costco, and more.

And there are only three of us.

Even the dogs are eating more. I’ve gone through two regular bags of dog food since Monday – all they wanna do is eat-aside from the fact that they ARE playing in the snow, making it yellow, and then napping on my leather couch.

It’s like we just can’t be trapped at home and do regular things, oh, like read, have conversations, play games, knit, clean. Nooooo, we eat and cook, cook and eat. The first flake on Tuesday had me pre-heating the oven to 350 for no reason at all.

See, told you I was hungry....
See, told you I was hungry….

It’s like we are food zombies. We aren’t looking for another person to eat (well, desperate times, desperate measures remember that book, Alive??? scary) we are throwing all good eating habits out the window and digging in. The minute we hear there’s no school, to stay off the roads, we hunker down. Pre-heat our ovens, start that soup, open that wine.

What does hunker mean anyway????


intransitive verb ˈhəŋ-kər

: to lower your body to the ground by bending your legs


Full Definition of HUNKER

1:  crouch, squat —usually used with down
2:  to settle in or dig in for a sustained period —used with down <hunker down for a good long wait — New Yorker>

Origin of HUNKER

probably akin to Middle Dutch hucken, huken to squat, Middle Low German hōken to squat, peddle, Old Norse hūka to squat

First Known Use: 1720

It’s an instinctual survival mechanism. Because you know, if we get stranded, we can live off that fat for a week or two.

Hunker down people, this muffin’s gonna keep me alive!


That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I can justify anything…

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The Top 14 Reasons We Watch The Bachelor


We gather around our televisions on Monday night with our smart phones or smart pads at the ready. Ready to toss out a comment, snarky or otherwise about a show that has a huge female audience watching other females ‘looking for love’.

Why do we watch it?

Why do we tweet, Facebook, and blog about it?

Why do we have such an obsession with who he or she ends up with, and if they going to make it?

It’s like watching a train wreck. The tears, the trips, the INCREDULOUS comments from 20 somethings saying they are in love with someone they have spent a total 20 minutes with after copious amounts of alcohol.
Although I remember MY twenties and we won’t go there…

So I was thinking last night about why we watch, and here it is:

The top 14 reasons we are addicted to The Bachelor

1. We love the first episode with everyone getting out of the limo. This is truly judgment time. It gets serious. We sit on our couches with our wine and popcorn and hoot and hollar at the girls arriving ( all liquored up too!)–it’s armchair quarterbacking for us girls!

2. Why is a guy/girl that looks like THAT on TV looking for a mate? Okay, that’s a rhetorical question – they want a spot on DWTS, a Star Magazine cover story and their own line of deodorant

3. Because the guy could have no teeth, a third nipple, an extra thumb and a hairy back and the girls would still be saying through their tears “But I thought we had a connection!”

4. Alcohol. Lots and lots of it.

5. The Epic Ugly Cry. It’s part of the audition, I’m sure of it


6. Swanky hotels. Room service, maid service, bar service. Come on people-just a week of that would be all I needed to find a connection with Pee Wee Herman.

7. Travel. All expense paid travel,exotic locale travel. I mean, who wouldn’t like making out with someone in a straw hut in Tahiti. You wouldn’t even have to get me drunk to do that if I were in a straw hut in Tahiti. Even with back-hair dude.

8. The Fantasy Suite-will they or won’t they? More kissing and connecting. Um, yeah, connecting. I can guarantee they’ll probably connect a couple of times after all of that expensive champagne


9. Hot tubs.

9a. Abs. Lots of them.

10. This is our Soap Opera. This show is The Young and The Restless with (kinda sorta) real people getting their hearts broken. We can relate to that. There’s always a stalker, a psycho, a randy divorcee, a beauty queen, an epic bitch, an ugly crier, and more. All they need is an amnesiac, evil twin and a kidnapped baby and we’d have ourselves a great soap!

11. It also proves that just because someone went to grad school doesn’t mean they have the best judgement .

12. We love to read the hilarious tweets and Facebook posts about the show. We even contribute our own! Check out the author Jennifer Weiner on Twitter. Make sure you haven’t had a sip of anything when you read her tweets because it will end up on your screen- she is so funny.

13.  The thought of kissing someone who has been kissing 20 other people totally skeeves us out. There’s not enough Listerine in those girl’s bathrooms to kill what’s probably going around.

14. And that final moment when Captain Obvious Chris Harrison ALWAYS says, “Ladies, it’s the Final Rose”

So we sit back and say to our daughters, You will never, in THIS family, meet a guy on a TV show (but they can meet them on Match, Plenty of Fish, etc…). I, personally, would love to see an African-American Bachelor, a Gay Bachelor, a Middle Age Bachelor with MIDDLE AGE bachelorettes, and vice versa.

So next Monday night, join us, with your readers on, and your wine and chocolate, for the next installment of Looking To Hook UP with as Many The Bachelor!

When your Christmas Letter is Hijacked by your Cat…..

 A Holiday Letter from Bob, the Payne Family Cat (as dictated to his staff):

Hello handsome...
Hello handsome…

First of all, I am very perturbed that neither me, nor my brother made this year’s Christmas card. There is a price to pay for that and it’s called the dining room chairs.

We are great.  We still live in the same house, same neighborhood, with the same stupid Maltese next door.

I want to do my best to update all of you humans on what my humans are doing. I have taken over from the former feline, who split last year, probably because I arrived.

bob6Female human Mary Anne is on the computer quite a bit. Which is a problem because the keyboard is for my pleasure, not hers. She is happy looking at something called Facebook, and writing things for her blog. She has had some success being published in anthologies but still has not created my picture book that I know will be a best-seller. She sold three houses this year, I am still waiting for my private carpeted 3 story condo.  She has been collecting and selling stuff in an antique market and store and seems to really like that. The rest of the family does not seem to share the pleasure of her crafts being all over the kitchen table. But I do. At midnight…

What is with the tacky shirts?
What is with the tacky shirts?

The male human, John, is still flying international for Delta. Mostly to South America. He never brings anything home for me, just oil, coffee and wine. I am thinking the catnip from south of the border would be way better catnip than that crap they give me here. Just sayin…He takes the teenage human to some place where they shoot guns. Says if I keep up the scratching I will become a target. Whatever that is. He still steps on my tail.  He thinks that it is cute.  It is not.  I will scratch him next time he does it, I promise you .

My brother. I'm cuter.
My brother. I’m cuter.

Kathleen Elizabeth (aka Katie) is now 18.  She also brought me home a sibling. They call him Smudge and he is all white. He is a huge wimp. But he is fun to beat up. Katie is finishing high school.  I do not think she will ever move out of my room. I am hoping that this will happen soon so I can have the whole bed to myself. She is this thing they call a teenager and the older humans must not like teenagers very much because there is much discussion about them and their antics.


Roscoe, Willie, and the fish are fine.  I do not like that Willie dog-the scruffy one.  We are having daily standoffs and because of the baby gate I am winning. We hate each other’s guts.  Roscoe is 12 and takes Valium. They would be better off to give it to Willie.I live inside because I am told that this family is tired of my kind bringing dead things in the house. That’s ok. I have managed to find dead lizards and present them to the owners. It makes them gag in disgust.  That’s the kind of thanks I get around here for all my hard work.

I look maahhhvvelous!
I look maahhhvvelous!

The humans like to travel and leave us here all alone. Oh yes, someone comes in to feed us, but I would have really loved scratching my claws on the furniture in their condo in Florida. They also have created a very nice large tree with lights for Smudge and me to sit in. For some reason, they only put it up once a year, and only for a couple of weeks. Indian givers…

The animals and I have had a great year. We are looking forward to the new year. Except for Roscoe. He has to wear a special outfit called a Thundershirt and take extra Valium on those holidays with loud noises. Stupid dog.


And no, I did not eat that elf.


Wishing you and yours all the love, happiness and joy of Christmas and a terrific 2014! 

Match Dot Loser

You ever have one of those days when you just feel blergh and fugly????

Need an emotional pick up?

Then go to Facebook and  see if anyone is trying to get you to hook up! Who knows, you could meet some dude or dudette in a faraway land, like, maybe the Middle East, and then you would never have to worry about makeup again.

After all, those head wraps do solve many female problems…

Did you know there are more messages in your Facebook inbox than you think? Have you opened it up? When you are on your PC, open up your messages and look to the right and open the Other tab. This is where your FB spam goes. And if you are lucky, you will get a message like this:

fbsnip1And this:fbsnip3WOW – what a pick up for my day! I am sitting here in worn out sweats, no makeup and my hair looks like a fright wig and these guys WANT me….and this is my profile picture (at that time):


Captivating, no. Astonishing? Holy $hit, seriously? I am looking very more attractive. I am your soul mate.

And Bachelor Number Two-you need to do some more homework on Rosetta Stone, just saying…

This guy is intent on saving me. He must read this blog:


I am sooooo gonna burn!

And that is TOTALLY NOT FAIR because I still suffer from years of Catholic guilt.

This guy wants to get to know me better:

fbsnip4I am a pretty damsel. This guy gets bonus points for using the word damsel. Old school, I liiiike it.

If this guy had really creeped on my profile he would have seen that at one time my dear BC (husband) was in the military. And more than likely out ranked him. Uh oh:


I get it-man it must be REALLY lonely there to troll for yours truly. He saw my profile and couldn’t help writing. Umm Hmm. This profile picture?

Tan mom and 16
Tan mom and 16


Or this one?


shamingThe hotness is overwhelming.

And last but not least, the most persistent of the Bachelors:


He gets a kitten because he tried TWICE!

Go get an ego boost. And then get creeped out.

Next post:  Changing your privacy settings…


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I Want To Thank All Of The Little People Out There…

I FINALLY won a real life, aw shucks, kiss my ring, legit blogging award!

I am in Circle of Moms Top 25 Southern Moms - 2013!

Ok, so in the end, they are still kinda popularity contests but I am in this year’s group of Circle of Moms (a huge site) Top 25 Southern Moms 2013 blogging awards! Out of 59 bloggers no less.

OK, I came in 7th. But that’s just fine and dandy with me.  And, I am pretty sure I am the only mom on the Top 25 who hasn’t bought a box of Tampax in over 2 years. Yay midlife moms–we rock!

I want to thank all of you who supported my incessant begging over the last couple of weeks and I promise it won’t happen again. OK, maybe it will. Not sure yet.

I made it through the evening gown section:


The bathing suit competition was HELL.

But I did win the talent composition:


Really wowed the judges. It is also a great trick when meeting in-laws for the first time. Not that I did that or anything…

So, now I get to put this little badgie on my blog so that I can finally show people that I am here to stay. Not that I am paying the mortgage with this or anything…

On to bigger and better things!


The Weekend I Was Popular

I lead a pretty quiet life by choice.

I had a good 5 years after college where I did the single thing in a big city which I will never write a memoir about because I want to stay in the will. But for some reason all the stars aligned and I actually had fun each nite of this past weekend.

And didn’t go to jail.

First, I went to the most kick-ass party  Friday night!


It was my first real one. Most of the time I just lurk. Oh, I do join in on the Bachelorette/Bachelor snarkfest on Mondays, but so do about a million other people.

Because I didn’t go the holy grail of blogging conferences this past weekend, BlogHer 2013, a group of us decided to have our own party on Twitter and it was called HomeCon ’13. Brought to us by the creative and hilarious Jenn at Jenn Something Clever 2.0 and Sarah at the Sadder But Wiser Girl, it was decided to meet, greet, and drink. That way you weren’t drinking alone.

And we were trending number one for a while. We blew up Twitter talking about where we lived, why we didn’t go, we outed closeted M&M and wine drinkers (me included) and tried to figure out a Thelma and Louise road trip to Florida.


Oh, and how we are going to go big time with gold flaked edible personal lubricant. And become millionaires. Uh huh…

What is so great about a Twitter party, you ask?

You can wear anything you want. Or nothing, your choice. You don’t have to put on makeup, you don’t have to bring a side dish, you don’t have to worry about drinking and driving, you don’t have to listen to some vapid woman going on and on about her talented children, and if you don’t like it you can leave early. No one will notice. It’s the Perfect Storm of parties!

I am finding Twitter more and more fun. And I have met some great people on there. There are also some really creepy folks on there too. I got followed early on by some girl named Amanda. So I go and look at her profile and look at her pic to see what she looks like.  On my phone it was too small to see. Later at home I looked her up again. The photo wasn’t her face. So I enlarged the picture, and then turned my phone in various positions to determine what this picture was. Then I enlarged it.

Obviously she was very poor because she couldn’t afford underwear….

Thank god for the block option.

Yep, one of my free passes!
Yep, one of my free passes!

Then Saturday night my local peeps went to see Keith Urban in concert. All I can say is I would have is baby too. Like I could go all Michelle Duggar on his bootay.

The only problem with the evening was the fact that at $14 bucks for a vodka drink in a plastic cup, I couldn’t continue the prickly pear margarita buzz I achieved earlier in the evening. Beer was 10 bucks. Draft.

Did I ever think that one day, I would be  at a concert stone cold sober complaining about the lines to the restroom and the price of booze? O.L.D. F.A.R.T.

Prickly pear - prickly head in the am...
Prickly pear – prickly head in the am…

There were many fanatics there dressed all up in their cowgirl-gone-stripper get-ups.

I think there is a mirror shortage in our area.

Sunday night 17 and I went to visit my sister from another mister and her girls in a local college town nearby. Sister’s oldest is going to be a senior in college. I was aghast at her daughter’s living conditions. Secure apartment, granite counter tops, private elevators, a gym on the 9th floor with views of the city. And two jacuzzi’s on the rooftop overlook. College must suck these days…

I wanna go baaaaaacccckkkk.. Whine, sniff.

You can bet your sweet badonk my girl will be in the same type of set up when she goes. There are some really creepy peeps out there.

So here it is Monday. The carriage has tuned back in to a pumpkin and I had to clean out the litter box and do laundry.

I’m going to take a nap.

And dream of Keith, margaritas, and some new psychotic BFF’s on Twitter.


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I’ll Have Some Metamucil With That Melanoma

@Alan Light FLickr Creative Commons
@Alan Light FLickr Creative Commons


It’s been a rough couple of weeks of personal maintenance. Met the deductible on insurance so I start making all the appointments.

Like they say, aging is not for sissies.

Skin cancer runs in my family so the minute I saw a funky spot on my hairline I made a bee line dermatologist appointment and got in the next day. It just kinda popped up and since I am an avid WebMD researcher-I have all the apps on all my devices-I had promptly diagnosed this particular spot as cancer. Bigger than a pencil eraser, smaller than a brain tumor…

I arrived at the office with thoughts of how in the hell is this guy gonna dig this out right up there in the middle of my hairline on my forehead without turning me into Cyclops? I was also hoping this could turn in to an insurance paid facelift.

Said doc saunters in, proceeds to look me over – ALL over – and taking in my pale white skin on my waist area-proclaims that I have absolutely wonderful skin for my age (yeah dude, it’s been 30 years since I’ve seen a bikini) and then diagnoses my funky mole thingie as an AGE SPOT. And look, here are some more!

Thanks a pant load.

Needless to say he zapped it off for me – for free- and gave me a referral for fillers for the lines around my mouth.

Next up, the dentist.

Ermagherd - Derntures!
Ermagherd – Derntures!

In my lifetime, I have probably financed many a dentist’s BMW with the amount of work I have had done in my mouth. They take one look inside and start planning that next addition to their home.

I’ve had problems with a particular molar that has had successive root canals and decided to get it checked out. Oh yay, it needs to be removed. So in talking with my dentist about what to do, he brought up different financial options for the fix for the gap that will remain. And the following word came up:


Kill. Me. Now.

All this a month after I turn 53.

It’s enough not to get carded any more for alcohol. To get my official AARP card in the mail. To receive the magazine. To shop at clothing stores with single numbers as sizes and pants with elastic. To really really desire comfy shoes. To remember to take my blood pressure meds every day. To eat those fiber gummies after a meal.

But DENTURES??????????????????????????

Hell no. Slap a bridge on that baby and let’s just move away from that language.

He’s so not going to get a tip from me.

Coming soon, I’m going to get a mammogram and a pap smear.!

I know how to live.

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Mannequin Pis - Brussels
Mannequin Pis – Brussels

What a week–been hard getting to the old computer what with all the glorious travel, shopping, eating and other exciting things I’ve been doing lately.

Be jealous.

So, a recap.

Me, BC and 17 took a 48 hour trip to Belgium at the end of last week. That’s how we roll as an airline family. BC is a captain for a major international airline and usually goes back and forth to South America. Which really doesn’t blow my skirt up all that much but I do need to see Buenos Aires. So, he actually got a short one to Brussels and me and 17 were like, Chocolate, waffles, beer? We’re IN! Unfortunately the last time I was in Europe for more than 3 days was about 20 years ago. In our world, it’s a free flight, free hotel, so what the hell. People think we are crazy. But it’s a blast, I mean-18 hours on an airplane (total time) in first, lie flat seats, California Pinot, rubber chicken, and absolutely NO ONE bugging me the whole time.

That, my friends, is a vacation.

Nice wig!
Nice wig!

One of my closest girlfriends is going through chemo right now. Diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer. So I took her to get her infusion and hung out with her and held her hand and fanned her face while she dry heaved as she was getting her drugs. She is teaching me and our friends about bravery. And resilience. And determination. And about never giving up. And I make sure we have some serious belly laughs at all times. Even hooked up to IV’s and drips, and ports, and all that crap, she’s asking for hot male nurses to tend to her. If you can’t laugh, you WILL cry. Cancer sucks. In the truest sense.

17 is in summer school this break and that means 3 straight weeks, one week break, then 3 more weeks and 2 half classes are done. Getting her out of her bed in the morning is a feat in and of itself. But she is conquering her classes and doing well. She just may make it after all…

Last night the Twitter was all abuzz with a ridiculous disaster movie on SyFy called Sharknado. A huge tornado comes in off the Pacific in to LA and with it tons of sharks who then terrorize the city. Led by Ian Ziering (Of 90210 fame, and apparently according to AARP is close to qualifying for his card) and Tara Reid (extremely tan and not drunk, I think) they fight the sharks and win. If this can get made, then there is NO reason my friend’s movie “Wolfman Boner” can’t get in to production. I mean really.


All of my fun blogging peeps are getting ready to go to BlogHer in Chicago at the end of the month. Can’t go this time. I am seriously jealous and can’t wait to see all the pics, swag and info they bring back. I just hope they can bring me home one of those free ‘back massagers’ that every one talks about…

Oh and props to me–I was featured this week both on Generation Fabulous and Horse Nation.

Shit’s getting serious…

Green Eggs And Whaaaaaat????


I am one lucky gal.

I have some of the funnest, most outrageous girlfriends, a few of which took me to lunch today for a belated birthday.

And, um, ahem, to give me a lovely age appropriate gift. That one of them ACTUALLY ordered ON LINE and had it shipped with MY name on it.

Yeah. These girls got big cojones.

Which is why I hang out with them.

Anyhooooo. Lunch came and went and then they paraded in to the Mexican restaurant with a lovely box with the words Paris written all over it, tied up with bandanas and part of a red feather boa hanging out of it.

I should have known what I was in for as they hurried finishing their meal and kept eyeing each other. Oh, and as I started opening it the cell phones cameras came out immediately and they started clicking away.

I am not easily embarrassed. But this took the cake, or the queso…

What was it, you ask?

Well, I am not going to tell you. But I will let you guess, with a little help from Dr. Seuss:

I do not like
these things that inflate

You think I’m desperate, my sweet girl mates!

Try it! Try it! They plead so dear

Try it try it you have nothing to fear!

So I think real hard and want to plea,
I will try it.
You will see.

I like this thing in this big pretty boxes!
I do!! I like this, You crazy foxes!
And I would use it in a boat!
And I would use it with a goat…
And I will use it in the rain.
And in the dark. And on a train.
And in a car. And in a tree.
It is so good so good you see!

So I will use it in a box.
And I will use it with a fox.
And I will use it in a house.
And I will use it with a mouse.
And I will use it here and there.
Say! I will use it ANYWHERE!

I do so like
this present in boxes!
Thank you!
Thank you,
You crazy FOXES!


Side note: I was not kicked out of the joint. But the business men eating near us did throw some dollars at me on the way out….