There are people trashier than me o.O

Okay, so here is a fantastic example of how to be consistently white trash and proud.  For those of you who have not had the privilege of watching this wonderful documentary courtesy of Dickhouse productions, you are really missing out on a true example of the realistic "American Dream".  These people have no regard for anyone.  True living outlaws.

I personally think I would like to party with them.  The White clan hails from Boone County, West Virginia.  Everyone has one of these in their family tree somewhere.  You know you do, I don't care if you're Bill Gates.  You've got some white trash in your blood.  The Whites proudly embrace their inane ability to be trashy 24/7. 

Allow me to divulge my inner trashiness.  I love to drink whiskey, first and foremost.  Jack, Jim, or SoCo.  Second of all, I love to put on a bikini, get on my four wheeler, and sling mud all over.  Third, I never wear shoes.  Fourth, I went deer hunting 8 months pregnant, bagged a deer, and field dressed it.  Fifth, I love David Allen Coe, Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, and Johnny Cash. 

See?  Everyone has a little white trash in them somewhere.  Leave me a comment and tell me all about your inner white trash redneck. 

XOXOXOXO

Time For Change

So with a new year comes the flood of over emotional people evaluating the last year of their life, and ultimately deciding they are worthless in one or more areas and promising to change it all with a new year.  I typically don't jump on this band wagon, but in light of the last few years I've spent in a seething depression, I've decided what the hell.  I will give this shit a try.  So, here I am.  This photo was taken on Dec. 22nd, 2012.  At that exact moment I weigh a confounding 190 lbs.  My goal is to reach 136.  Periodically I will post a photo of myself as I reach my goal.  Ironically vain of me I'm aware, but I think it may help give me that "I can't look at myself anymore" kind of motivation.  I'm a mother of 3 and a former Paramedic who has sustained a very severe back injury, so insane exercise is off the table.  My plan is to change my eating habits.  Fingers crossed that it works.  If it does, hello pot leaf bikini :-)  XOXOXO

Hi, My name is Becky, and I'm a hoarder........

So, with a new year, I've decided to get my house in order.  I got all these new shelves and plastic bins in hopes to organize some of the chaos.  I have 3 kids age 7, 5, and 3 so my house is typically destroyed.  I also own my own crochet business, so there are copious amounts of yarn strewn about my house at all times.  I don't like the chaos, but I live with it.

Anyway, as I've been cleaning, boxing, and rearranging what seems like a Mt. Everest of crap, I have discovered that I am a hoarder.  Not like those gross hoarders that think cottage cheese that has sat in a refrigerator that doesn't work for three years is still good, but more one that holds onto some ridiculous stuff.  Let's go through a list of things I've found that I hoard.

1.  Clothes.  Does anyone else do this?  I have found clothes that I haven't worn since high school that for some reason I think, "I will totally fit into and wear this again."  Am I really so deluded that I believe I will magically lose 100 lbs. of baby weight and gain a strong desire to wear an angry bunny shirt that says "I'm cute, and you're not" again?  Baby clothes is another big problem.  I am vastly aware that I am never going to have another baby.  Not because I don't want to, but because I have no ovaries.  So why, I ask, do I keep newborn clothes with the thought in mind that someday I may need them again????  It's an unknown......

2.  Paper.  I literally have every scrap of paper that my kids have EVER scribbled on in a box, as if that somehow keeps them young.  Every school paper, bandaids from their first shots, the clips from their umbilical cords, appointment cards from every doctors appointment they've ever had.........the list goes on, and believe me it's ridiculously long.  I have no idea why I can't get rid of this stuff.

3.  Dishes.  Not good dishes.  Broken, mismatched, stained up, half melted..............doesn't matter.  I always seem to think that at some point I will need them.  Every butter bowl, child's take out cup, plastic spoon.  It's very strange.

4.  Receipts.  Even if it's for a can of chicken noodle soup.  I don't throw away receipts.

What's even more strange is that I'm aware of the problem, yet have no desire to fix it.  Does anyone else have any strange hoarding habits?  Please for the love of God, tell me I'm not crazy...........

XOXOXOXO

Seriously....Quit Preaching. No One Cares!

Well said, Betty my dear.  Today my faithful followers, a rant of epic proportions.  I'm sure it will both offend and bring giggles, but these are things that I feel I need to spit out.  They're blocking the creative juices.  Plus, I'm sure most of you know someone who does one of these many things, and are equally as annoyed by them.  So without further ado........

1.  Organic food/Vegans/Gluten Free (By choice) people drive me fucking crazy!!!  Nobody gives a crap that you spend thousands of extra dollars every year to ensure that your fucking bees didn't eat any pesticides off of that damned flower.  Food is food.  Eat what you want, but please, for fuck's sake STOP trying to convince me to waste my money.  I don't care now and I never will.  I will simply smile and nod as I eat my Twinkie covered in canned nacho cheese sauce, because in the end, we're all going to die from something.  I'm not going to stress myself, my bank account, or my taste buds out just to make you happy.  To the vegans, I don't care about the animals.  God, the big bang, Buddah, evolution, or whatever the crap you believe in put them here for one purpose.  To be eaten.  If you don't want to, fine.  That just leaves more delicious prime rib for me.  I am curious though.  When performing oral sex, do you swallow the end result?  Because technically jizz does come from an animal.  Also, do you breastfeed?  These are legitimate questions.  Please, enlighten me on the rules.

2.  Conspiracy theorists should be committed.  I don't know where you people come up with some of this shit.  I mean, I personally would rather enjoy a cupcake and a good movie with my kid than sit and constantly stew over what someone else is plotting to bring on my demise.  I guess that if you don't want to stop and smell the roses that's fine, but consider this.  We are all going to die, one way or another.  You will probably die sooner than most because of constant stress and worry over airplanes seeding the clouds, or how the government was involved in all of the shootings as of late.  I don't care.  I'd rather be oblivious and happy.  You seriously need to reconsider your priorities.  While you are busy researching the internet for ways Americans will end up in concentration camps, your kids are growing up.  Likely in fear no less.  Lighten up.

3.  Religious hypocrites will burn in hell.  Christian or not.  I don't understand where people get off calling themselves "christians" when, in my experience, 95% of them are more judgmental and condescending than your average gangster.  I'm pretty sure that Jesus preached tolerance, not judgment and hate.  I understand you have your reasons for believing that things are right and wrong, but please remember this as you are spouting about how God hates fags while standing in line at Chik-Fil-A......the affair you've been having for the last 3 years, or the money you stole from your job, or the porn you hide underneath your bed is equally as wrong.  I recall reading some shit about a sliver of wood vs. a plank of wood.  Having faith is one thing, but using your faith as a weapon is another.  Your hateful words and actions must do wonders for getting people to convert to your ways.  You catch more flies with honey, just remember that.

4.  People who complain about how bad their relationship is, yet continue to deal with it, then proceed to whine about it every chance they get piss me off.  If you hate your significant other, get out. I'm tired of reading/hearing about how bad it is when you bring it on yourself.  When you keep putting yourself in the same situation over and over expecting different results, it's your own damn fault.  Quit being a moron and find someone worth your time.

5.  Why do you let your kids call EVERY guy you date daddy?  Don't you understand how damaging this is to them?  Jesus, get a clue.  Moving 18 guys in and out of your kids life causes their spirit to die just a little bit more every time another "daddy" leaves.  You should get the douchebag of the decade award.

6.  Whatever happened to common courtesy and being polite?  If you need something, by all means please ask, but when you do, don't say something like, "I need a ride to the store.  Any takers?"  It is in no way my PRIVILEGE to take you anywhere.  You should say, "Hey, I really need a ride to the store.  Could anyone please take me?  I would appreciate it."

7.  Tlkng lk ths is annoying lolz.  I don't think this needs any elaboration you fucktard.

8.  If you and I disagree on what type of music to listen to or what TV shows to watch, guess what?  That's fucking normal!  Quit telling me I'm stupid because I listen to Seether.  They have more talent and money than you, so whether you like them or not, they apparently did something right.  It does nothing but make me dislike you when you rant and rave about every note of music ever written not fitting your specific requirements.  The brooding thing is okay to a point, but really, get the fuck over it.  Music is a forum that speaks to the soul, and everyone's soul is different.  Maybe something that speaks to me for whatever reason doesn't speak to you in the same way.  That's fine, but it in no way makes me stupid.  As for TV, I will watch what I want, when I want, and you can stuff it.  If you don't like it, shove off.  Not everyone wants to watch the same thing.  Try to remember that our differences make us who we are.

9.  Quit TRYING to make yourself look slutty.  You will only ever catch sleezebags that way, and you will likely end up raped and dead in a corn field somewhere.

10.  Your political views are your own.  Not everyone will agree, and you trying to convince them otherwise will never work.  People have their beliefs and opinions for a reason.  You are in no way going to change that by leaving a ten mile long comment on their status informing them that you believe they are wrong.  QUIT IT!  Voting is supposed to be a private ordeal.  Can't we fucking keep it that way?  Quit being a twat, shut up, and go vote the way you think is best.  It's that fucking simple.

Okay, I'm done.  I'm glad I got that off my chest.  Now we can resume talking about Kermit and rainbows.  Have a great day!

XOXOXOXO

Silent Night My Ass

Picture it.  Snow falling gently over a landscape of evergreen trees.  Nestled on hill is a cozy little log cabin.  Inside, we find the ideal Christmas scene.  Dad curled up with a Christmas story and two eager children listening to his every word with fascination.  Mom is making hot cocoa.  There's a fire going in the fireplace, and every ornament is exactly as it should be on the tree.  Such a beautiful scene. 

Excuse me as I laugh.  Loudly.

Welcome to my world.  Let's play picture it again!  Snow is blowing with the force of a Category 5 hurricane onto a road where seldom a snow plow dares to venture.  There's a house......somewhere, all you have to is listen for the sound of screaming.  Follow it, and let's go inside.  The kids have just gotten home from their Christmas party at school.....all hopped up on Mountain Dew and Reese's Tree candy.  One is screaming because the other got a Secret Santa gift and she didn't.  Suddenly both decide they are ninjas, and before you know it dad is pulling them off of each other like pulling a lion off of a zebra carcass.  Mom yells, "Sit down!  Let's watch a movie.  I'll make some hot cocoa if you be nice."  The kids quickly swap out horns for halos......until it's time to pick which one to watch.....Then it's game on again. 

Okay, movie is on.  Mom starts to cook dinner, in hopes that the peace lasts for the 30 minute prep time.  Dad is napping, oblivious to the fact that he has children.  Suddenly, mom realizes it's quiet.  Too quiet.  She goes looking for the source of the silence and finds three kids pouring hot chocolate into her purse.  Time out for all.  The night continues from there.  During bath time an entire bottle of soap gets dumped into the tub.  At bed time, every kid is up at least 30 times for various reasons.......then all falls quiet. 

The only reason a peaceful winter night at Christmas time exists is sleep.  Mom looks in on her sleeping children, and realizes that this is all she can expect from children, kisses them all on the cheek, and goes to bed.......just to do the same thing all over again the next day.

XOXOXOXO

Sir, you are an asshat.....

So I have this friend named Tim.  I call him Poppashongo, or occasionally Big Poppa.  He is probably my closest friend, and I want you to know that no matter what happens, he will always be dear to me.  I don't know what sparked such a close relationship between the two of us, but it is fun to have someone to goof off with, bitch to, get drunk with, and in general just have a good time.  Some of you may find it strange that my closest friend is a guy, but to you who do I say "fuck off". 

Anywho, Tim is a karaoke DJ.  I met him about a year ago when I went out for a night of karaoke with an old friend.  I introduced myself by dumping my drink on him, and we have been buddies ever since.  I call myself his apprentice, and from time to time he relies on me to help him DJ when he has double booked himself.  (Which I think is fucking awesome, and hope that I'm always his back-up.)  I go wherever he goes like a faithful dog, and we have a great time no matter the situation.  I know that no matter what happens he has my back, and I always feel safe when he's around.  These are great qualities to have in a friend.  I'm also very great friends with his wife, who thankfully understands why we're friends!  Sharon is just as awesome as Tim, but for different reasons.  I'm sure that eventually you will find a tale on here involving her, but it just so happens that this most recent "interesting thing" involves Tim, so I felt that you fine readers needed some introduction.

So recently, Tim has picked up a new karaoke gig on Wednesday nights.  He was up for the position along with another DJ.  We'll call the other guy Summer's Eve.  Obviously, because Tim IS the people's choice, he was hired instead of Summer's Eve.  I may be biased, but I do a lot of karaoke, and Tim really is great at what he does, and the only thing Summer's Eve had to offer besides a computer was a bunch of really ugly hats.

Yay, Tim!  So last night was Tim's first night.  As bad as I have felt, I trooped out to the new digs to support my BFF on his first night!  Low and behold, Summer's Eve showed up to check out the show.  I have to tell you about this guy.

Picture it.  A shorter, gray haired version of Howie Mandel with a serious inferiority complex.  That's what he looked like.  So, Tim and I are sitting at the designated hired DJ only spot, when over walks Summer's Eve.  Tim, who can't stand the guy, is pleasant and welcoming to the guy.....which was shocking, because the first time he opened his mouth, I just wanted to stuff a homeless man's sock into his mouth.  Tim, if you read this, congratulations on your ability to conduct yourself like an adult. 

Summer's Eve now wants to know every detail about Tim's equipment, programs, etc.  (I'm sure it was just so he could feel like his was way better, which it's not, so suck it.)  Tim politely told him all about what he wanted to know.  Well, this makes Summer's Eve think he's got an edge.  Commence the pissing contest.  I'm going to quote the following conversation.

Tim:  Hey buddy!  Are you gonna sing tonight?
Summer's Eve:  Ummmm, well, yeah sure!  Do you got Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi?
Tim:  Yep! 
Summer's Eve:  Sound Choice?
Tim:  If I have it, absolutely.
Summer's Eve:  Can you drop it two keys?

At this point, Tim looks at the guy with an "Are you fucking kidding me" face. 
Me: (Directed at Tim)  There's one in every bar isn't there?
Tim:  LOL, alright I gotcha in.  You'll be up in just a minute.

So 10 minutes go by, and Summer's Eve is now done singing his song.  Which I have to tell you, a dying cow could've done better.  It was hard to retain laughter at how bad this cocky sumbitch was singing.  So here he comes to put in another song.

Summer's Eve:  Was that dropped two keys?
Tim: (Points to the screen to show him the -2 in the key box) Yep.  Did you want it lower than that?
Summer's Eve:  Well, I wanted it dropped to keys.
Tim: (Points to the screen again)  I dropped it two keys.  Did it sound different?
Summer's Eve:  Well, with my program I drop it two keys and it sounds different.  I guess that's just the difference in.....uh....computers. 

Walk away buddy, you're making yourself look stupid.  I didn't stay much longer after that, but I have a strange feeling that Tim dealt with this all night.  I feel really bad for Summer's Eve......he probably doesn't have very many friends.  So, here's my advice to him.

GROW UP YOU ASSHAT!  Tim was clearly the better choice, so man up and quit trying to make Tim miserable.  I mean, you have gray hair, so shouldn't you be past the point of petty bullshit?  Shake hands with Tim, congratulate him on the gig, and go find another one.  You giving him a bunch of shit isn't going to pay your bills or get you the job that he clearly already has. 

Let's all take a moment to think of this poor little Howie Mandel looking lost soul, and congratulate him for winning the douche bag of the day award.  Clearly he needs to win something........this should make him feel a little better.

XOXOXOXOXO

A Less Than Interesting Day.......*sigh*

Greetings from the hole that is my crappy bed.  It is where I have lived for the last 48 hours.  I was making the girls a delicious microwaved lunch of leftovers yesterday when, boom, I reached up to open the microwave and found myself in complete and utter misery.  So, I situated them as best I could with tears running down my face, walked to my bed, and since have truly contemplated just shitting in a bucket to avoid any excess moving.  (Don't worry........it was only contemplation.  No bucket shitting has occured.) 

So, as I lay here, it's hard not to become bored out of your mind.  I've tried to decide what to write about since nothing funny, exciting, infuriating, or otherwise happened to me today.  I took a Loritab and laid around.  Ah, but then I discovered that I could simply give you a funny story from days prior.  One from each of my awesome kids, and by awesome I mean beautiful, creative, intelligent, but equally terrifying daughters.  Enjoy!

Melanie:
As my first-born, this child has obvious advantages.  She is allowed to do more, because it's what I consider a "learning curve".  If Melanie does it with little to no damage, I guess it's probably okay for the younger two to give it a go.  She was the first one to go down the slide head first, first one to ride a bike, etc.  Hence comes a funny tale from the mind of my genius almost 7 year old daughter.  She has been very sick the last couple days with Scarlet Fever.  So she's had the works.  Headache, fever, sore throat, ear ache, and a general attitude of "fuck off".  Yes, she's been a cranky ass.  Within reason, of course, and as to be expected.  I know I'm no saint when I'm feeling bad.  Anyway, I digress.  Because of the fever, I have been giving her steady rounds of Tylenol and Ibuprofen.  (Mommy of the YEAR!)  The medicine has done very little for the fever, but it seems to have done one very big thing.  Completely stop her from taking a crap.  So, she's on the toilet right down the hall from my bedroom and all of a sudden I hear what sounds like a small whale dying.  It's Melanie, crying.  Lily, my next oldest comes running in my room yelling, "Melanie can't POOOOOOP!!!!"  Then Melanie yells from the bathroom, "I'm scared."

I can't get up because my leg goes numb when my back goes out, so I yell for her dad to go check on her.  This makes her even more upset.  I tell her to calm down, and come into my room and I'll try to make her feel better.  She comes waddling in, pants to her ankles.  I said, "Pull your pants up goofball."  So I start giving her the options.  We can wait it out, try eating some prunes, or we can give her an enema.  Of course she doesn't know what that means, so I explain to her that it's a little thing that goes in her butthole, squirts some oil in, and loosens up the poop so it can come out.  Her immediate response to that was, "Dad has already seen me in the bathroom, there's no way you're sticking something in my butt.  The poop will just have to stay in there."  They grow up so fast.  She's a smart ass just like her mom.  =-)


Lily:
Lily is what I like to call imaginative.  She comes up with very strange, and creepy tales.  I personally believe that she is a future Tim Burton.  Her mind is a dark and twisty place.  (Likely the result of watching The Omen a few too many times when I was pregnant with her.)  Her most recent story involved a pink alien, an axe, and some poison.  Ironically, however, she is terrified of EVERYTHING.  I almost wrecked my car one time because she screamed in such a blood curdling way from the back seat that it scared me.  What was she screaming about?  A fly landed on her leg.  She's very timid.  I don't know how else to explain her demeanor.

Just the other day, we were in the car on our way home and her sister Shayne was babbling about some kind of nonsense.  Then they got onto the topic of Jesus. (?)  They argued back and forth for a while, when all of a sudden I heard, "Shut up Shayne!  Jesus lives in outer space with the aliens!"  Then she started singing Crazy Train by Ozzy.  She's a carbon copy of me, I swear.


Shayne:
Ah, my baby.  My last little angel.  My miracle.  My diva.  My pain in the ass.  I love this child more than words can express.  She's a miracle, and I nearly gave my life to bring her into this world.  We have a bond unlike the bond I have with my older two.  She's spoiled rotten, and you can definitely tell.  She is random, demanding, loud, and adorable.  She's only 3, so she has limited understanding of words and their meanings, but she is very intelligent.  I would just like to share with you some quotes from Shayne over the last year.

My mom:  Shayne, say your prayers before you go to sleep.
Shayne:  I don't want to.

Shayne:  Look mommy!  I'm tall enough to reach the floor!

Shayne:  I'm not a ninja, I'm a ninja turtle!

Shayne:  My nose is running.  I need a tennis shoe.  Please.  Perry Please.

Shayne:  The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the giant meatball.

Shayne:  Jesus is a super hero!  He died for our country!

Shayne:  (After getting out of the bath tub)  Daddy!  Look!  I have a hole in my butt!


And, that, my friends is what procreation is really all about.  Posting embarrassing stories about your children on the internet, so that when the right time comes, you can use them as date material.  Have sweet dreams!

XOXOXOXOXO