How To Get New Electronics for Super Cheap AND Help a Cause, In the Meantime

I just happened to come upon this website by mere accident. Oh.Ma.Gah! You are gonna love it. I will explain it in the simplest terms. (Let me just say I'm not affiliated with these people in any way.)


1. Auctions for a Cause: This site has merchants put electronics, electronic games, tvs, wiis, and ipods, etc. up for auction. (Prices are for pennies on the dollar.)

2. You find something you want to bid on.

3. You look at the "Get4" Price. You MUST bid on or below the "get4" price.

4. These bids are sealed, so no one knows what you bid and you don't know anyone else's bid, either.

5. You register for free to become a bidder.

6. You submit your bid.

7. You will pay $9.94 for each time you bid, whether you win or not!

8. Once the "cut-off" number is reached on bids, say 100 bids, then the auction is closed.

9.The winning bidder is contacted and pays the amount he/she bid on the item.


Here's an example:

A Wii Bundle.

• Brand new, still in the box, never opened.

• The "Get4" Price is $7.49. (Gah, how cheap is that?)

• You want to bid. They are only accepting 95 bids and the bidding process will be stopped after 95 people submit bids. (You don't know how many have already submitted bids.)

• You MUST bid at or below $7.49. Not a penny over.

• You decide to bid $7.46.

• Here's the results of the bids: (Again, just an example of 5 bids)

7.49
7.49
7.49
7.46
7.45

• You would win, because the $7.49's are all alike. It has to be the highest bid that no one else has.
  

• You will then be contacted by email and asked to pay the $7.46 by charge card. (The site says they will do echeck and paypal soon.)

Ok, that's all there is to it. The best part? You got a Wii (free shipping) for $7.46 plus the $9.94 charge for bidding. So, you have a brand new Wii for $17.40. Not bad, huh?

Plus, Auctions 4 a Cause donates 25% of all their auction fees to organizations, like Breast Cancer Awareness, Big Brothers Big Sisters, American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA), and March of Dimes.

Go on, head on over there... It's won.der.ful.~

Auctionsforacause.com

How to Know If You Gave You're Child The Right Name

Have you ever wondered if you should have named your child something different? Oh, like you think you picked the wrong name? Here's a quick way to tell: head down to the ShopRite and see if they'll put it on a birthday cake. If they will, you've got the green light, my friend. However, if they refuse, you possibly made the wrong decision. Just ask Heath and Deborah Campbell of Greenwich, NJ.


Their precious little 3 year old has the name Adolf Hitler Campbell. Yep, that's right and ShopRite refused to put it on a birthday cake. Now the parents are all huffy that their child was discriminated against. Hello!! Is any one home in that hollow you call a brain? They didn't just want the name with Dora or Strawberry Shortcake theme. Oh noooo, that would've been too normal. Try a swastika on a three year old's birthday cake. She might not even know what it means and for her sake, let's hope not.


Do these parents not realize what they did to this child? The dad keeps saying move forward and not backward, as he makes his way around the newspaper and internet scene. Man, are you flippin' stupid or what? If you don't want everyone else to move backward, then why did you (3 years ago?) Are you crazy or just stupid? I would find it just a weeee bit weird if I had a boy and named him John Wayne Gacy (last name inserted.) I really think other's would too. Plus, if I went to a bakery/grocery store and they refused to put his name on a cake featuring a knife with blood, I could COMPLETELY understand, because that child is named after a serial killer. Makes completely perfect sense.


Let's hope for little Adolf's sake, she finds a nickname. Do you realize the torture and heartache of walking into a job interview for some executive branch of work and telling the folks her name? I would be willing to bet, regardless of her qualifications, she wouldn't get the job. Sorry, Adolf, your mom and dad have branded you for life, girlfriend. Plus, if she starts lining the Barbie's up, concentration camp style, it might just be time for you to do a little worrying.




In the meantime, for those of us that name our children somewhat 'average Joe' names, do not name your child: (I'm sure there are more, these are just some off the top. )

1. John Wayne Gacy
2.Charles Manson
3. Jezebel
4. Adolf Hitler


Cause when ShopRite refuses it, you just have to go to Walmart.

The Nutcracker

I never liked watching ballets. However, in my uh uhm...adult years, I have wanted to learn more about the Nutcracker. It actually tells a story, it's not just a performance. When we were growing up, the Nutcracker was something boys did off the high dive, when they hit the pool or another one: the device used to crack pecans. Actually, it goes a little deeper than that. Shame on me for such shallow thinking.


This idea was started by writer E.T.A Hoffman. It's a story about a little girl named Clara, which dreams she is having real life encounters with her Nutcracker, which resembles a real man. This performance is over 100 years old. It started out in Russia and was performed in December 1892. This classic didn't make it's way to the US until around 1944, when it started out in New York City Ballet. There are many different versions performed.

In all my shallowness, I would like to take the kids to see the Nutcracker performed in the big city next Christmas. Until then, I'll let them go on believing it's what we crack pecans with.

Upside Down from a Very High Tree

I've been watching 48 Hours tonight. They finally found the remains of little Kaylee Anthony, within a few miles of her grandparents' house. All those that love her, including Nancy Grace, can get some closure on this.


Casey Anthony wasn't a mother, she just birthed this child. Real mothers don't harm their children and then get on with their lives, going to rent movies at Blockbuster and on shopping sprees to Target. How in the hell do you call yourself a mother, then not worry with the investigation of where your daughter is?


Personally, as a mother, I think they should hang this woman by her toes from a very high tree~ I'll bet she'd find some information somewhere in that hull she calls a brain then. I don't understand why people hurt their own damn children. I guess I never will.


The one thing I do know is that Casey Anthony did not deserve this child. There are thousands of people waiting and wishing for children. I'm sure one of those families would've taken this child in without blinking. The news says that Casey is not the same as she once was. How does that happen? You don't go from being a loving maternal creature to a hateful monster overnight.


One things for sure. Casey Anthony needs to be forced into tying her tubes or a hysterectomy. She doesn't deserve to ever be called a mother again. Cause that's one name that should never be associated with the word murderer.

Rod Blagojevich: Caught In the Cookie Jar

I'm not usually into politics, but a dude this damn funny deserves some recognition. I take it that Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich is not one of Obama's favorite friends right now, trying to sell his chair and all...


Ole Rod looks to be aging gracefully with his college kid look. I swear he doesn't look a day over 30. I wonder if he'll age much in prison?














What he thought he was getting?










Instead, he'll get matching bracelets and Big Bubba as a best friend. One thing's for sure: he did not have sex with that woman...uh uhm...I mean he did not try taking that chair. Rod and Billy C. have a lot in common. Deny, deny, deny.


He would have a better chance at getting season tickets to see the Chicago Cubs as a gift. Considering he tried getting folks at the Chicago Tribune fired for covering all his dirty tricks earlier in the term. Which, by the way, own the Cubs baseball stadium. Seems he's made a lot of enemies in his term. He may as well resign. You don't get on the soon-to-be Pres' bad list and then make it big in politics.


Yep, he got his hand caught in the cookie jar trying to stash the seat in his trunk.

Christmas Balls Wreath

This idea came from Martha Stewart before her criminal days.
Enjoy,

Christmas Balls Wreath

What you will need:
1 Foam Wreath
2 inch wide ribbon, any color that will match the balls
Hot Glue Gun and Glue Sticks
Various Size/Color Balls (The traditional kind)


Directions:
1. Wrap the ribbon all the way around the foam wreath, hot gluing as you go,overlapping to make sure not to leave any gaps.
2. Begin with the largest balls you have and glue them in various places on the wreath.
3. Use the medium size next, hot gluing and distributing evenly with size/color.
4. Use the small balls to gill in the gaps.
5. Add a homemade bow. (optional)


This is very cheap, yet beautiful and the entire wreath is less than $15.00.

The Purse

My purse makes me mad. No matter how many times it's cleaned out, there's always something in there that doesn't belong. I don't know about you, but I like the stylish purses. The over grown pieces of leather that it took a whole cow to make type? Yea, that's so me. I have this thing, though. It looks so good in the store, but when I get it home, in 2 weeks time, I've changed my mind about it. The thing is this: the purses all start out with good, stylish intent. However, the sack winds up looking like something my mom would tote around, seriously. Maybe it's just the idea of the purse that changes. Then, it becomes another ornament, hanging on the year round closet tree.



Another ah moment is to find something that TOTALLY doesn't belong in your purse. Oh, like a wrench? You're sitting in the doctor's office, thumbing through for a piece of gum, and BAM~ there is. How the hell did that get in there? Then you have people sitting beside you, looking like you're a serial killer, waiting for the perfect moment.


It all happens around bill time. You stash all the bills that need paying in your purse. When you're ready to pay them, you pull the bill out of the envelope, leaving excess trash in the purse. I have enough crap in my purse to look like Harry Houdini, and keep pulling and pulling and pulling crap out.


Have you ever noticed that not every woman totes a purse? It's just one more thing to organize. I can completely understand~

Easy Bake Oven for Boys

I am doing the happy dance on the way to the bathroom right now. I finally found a reasonable substitution for a girly Easy Bake. It's the Easy Bake for boys, kinda. This oven doesn't worry with cake mix, batter and baking goop. Nope, it bakes something much tastier....Bugs~ Yay for us....uh uhm...I mean him....


It's the Creepy Crawlers Bug Maker Oven, dang it. He's.fo.sho.gettin.one. We are finishing up our shopping Saturday in the big city and this is at the top of the Santa list. I'm so excited, I can hardly wait. It comes with the molds for the bugs to bake, along with the stuff that makes em.


Who needs cupcakes when you can have bugs?

Homemade Ice Cream Christmas Ornaments

This is for an ice cream cone Christmas ornament. Kids especially love these because they look so real.








What you will need:
1 Box of Ice Cream Sugar Cones (the kind that make a point)
12 solid colored Christmas ball ornaments
White Acrylic Paint
Very thin spool of ribbon
Acrylic Spray
Hot Glue/Glue Gun


Directions:
1. Hold the cone at the point (bottom.)
2. Put a thick bead of hot glue on the rim of the cone where the ball will sit.
3. Sit the ball on the cone. Make sure it's on there good, so the glue will stick to it.(The part used for hanging on the tree should be straight on the top.)
4. Use an eye dropper and drizzle the white paint from the top of the ball downwards.
5. Pull the ribbon through for hanging, while the paint is till wet.
6. Hang the ornament on something that it will not touch, for drying overnight.
(I used a hook outside)
7. Once the paint is dry, thoroughly spray the cone with acrylic paint, to make it hard and keep it from molding. The acrylic will seal it.
8. Once the acrylic spray is dry, you can add names or years with a marker or leave it as is for hanging.

These make really cute ornaments and the kids absolutely loved making these.
Sprinkles are up to you~We didn't use them.

Reindeer Food

I don't remember where we got this, but we have had it for several years. This reindeer food is intended to be sprinkled on the lawn and is not for human consumption. You were warned and if you sue, you're not gonna get anything anyway. This recipe makes enough for one child to sprinkle on the lawn. If you have more than one, just multiply it, or I guess you could divide it.


Reindeer Food
1/2 cup of raw oatmeal
3 Hard Pinches of Glitter (I use silver, mixed with red and green~one pinch each)
Ziplock Bag

Mix the ingredients and toss the bag, making sure to mix well.
Attach a card or note that reads: "On Christmas Eve, sprinkle this wonderful Reindeer Food on your lawn. The shiny glitter will sparkle in the moonlight and the smell of oats will guide Rudolph to your home."

Hannah Montana

Is it ok for boys to like Hannah Montana or is it a little too girlie-o? I mean, you wouldn't want a boy having a Hannah Montana birthday party or anything, but some boys do watch Hannah Montana. Point in case, my child. He's a man's man, loves to fight, play in the dirt, and all that jazz. When he comes inside to watch tv, he loves Hannah Montana. When asked if he would go to one of her concerts, he says no.


What's even worse? If you go in your bedroom and your lovely spouse is watching Hannah Montana, Drake and Josh, Corey in the House, That's So Raven, or anything in between. I'll admit, though, these shows are addicting. It's easy to catch yourself watching them when the kids aren't even around.


Where will the Hannah Montana show go when she grows up? Hannah Montana, The College Years, I'm predicting. For now, Billy Ray Cyrus is back on the scene. Not because of Achy Breaky Heart, but because his lovely little girl has rocked the tween scene~ both boy and girl!

A Teacher's 5 Internet Picks

Has your child ever came home and proclaimed he didn't understand something in math, reading or some other subject? Once you opened the book, you realized that you, the parent, had no clue about the subject matter, either. We've all been there.


Today, is a list of 5 Internet Picks. This is a list of the 5 websites used in this teacher's 1st and 5th grade classrooms. These are researched based and have proven to be effective.




1. Starfall: This website is intended for your small child up to say, third grade. This site mainly focuses on phonics, sight words, small/short decodable text, shapes, and other skills that interests younger children. The wonderful thing about the decodable text: if the child isn't sure of the word, this site will read the story for your child to follow along. This site is suggested for K-3rd, and any child having trouble with sounds, vowels, or sight words.


2.Brainpop.com: This website offers a plethora of topics and subjects. Once you click on the subject, you can then opt for more specific skills and or topics. I like Brainpop because it's easy enough for a 3rd grader to understand, yet complex enough for a 10th grader. This site is suggested for 3rd through 12th, with 3rd needing assistance to get started.


3. Funbrain.com: This site is mainly for math practice, with a few other skills thrown in for good measure. You choose the grade level, then the skill and it takes you to the game. This site is suggested for Kindergarten through 8th grade.


4. Bill Nye the Science Guy: I love this guy. He has video and audio clips on this site. Nye mainly deals with life science, physical science and the planets. Once you click on the category, you are taken to a further detailed list to click on. He has some really good science experiments. This site is suggested for 4th through 8th grade.


5. Internet 4 Classrooms: Ok, I saved the best for last. This was one of my all time favorite sites to use. The reason: you can navigate through all subjects in this site. It's like a directory and it's your choice how to navigate through it. You can pick something by state assessment, grade, subject, or practice modules. Once you choose and narrow down what you're looking for, each subject has websites for targeted skills. I can't say enough about this one~ This site is suggested for K-12th grade.


There you have it, a teacher's list of 5 websites used in the classroom.
Enjoy~

Do You Remember 1985?

1985

'Twas November 30,
And all through the house,
You are not moving,
No, you are quiet as a mouse.
The Barbies' are resting
All snug with one Ken,
While there is a Sears Wishbook,
You can't wait to jump in.
There it is, the Snoopy Snowcone Maker,
An Easybake, a Cabbage Patch Kid,
And Dolls Made of Paper.
Mama just finished washing up the dishes,
You make her come close,
To show her all your wishes.
The prettiest girl ever, sporting makeup and a ring,
You have to make a list,
So Santa will know what to bring.
And in the days ahead,
Your list changes a few times,
As Mama saves up
Her nickels and dimes.
And On Christmas morn you arise with such glee,
To see what, from the Wishbook,
Is under the tree.
Christmas' of days gone by,
So fond and so warm,
Of wishing and list making making,
It is of a magical form.
Those Christmas' live within' us,
And we must pass them down,
The magic, the wishing,
The Christmas of 'Wishbook Town.'



This poem is a my tribute to Christmas, back in 1985, when the world wasn't so techno and the Wishbook was the hottest thing before Charm Bracelets and Jellies.

Monday Mail Roundup

Got this in the mail last week. Thought I'd share it in the Monday Mail Roundup.

"When It May Be Ok to Cuss"

The Day Mama and I Were Almost Kidnapped

It was April 1995, which tells anyone that it was already hot, humid and dusty in the south. I was a senior in high school, and living it up. Losing weight, getting healthy and loving every minute of my skinny smaller girl life. Mama and I were walking for our health, which is only a faint memory now. Health was packaged up like a box of old clothes with "free to good home" wrote on the side, kinda. Anyway, we were walking everyday, about a mile. Heck, that was SUPER for us. We had our Nikes' on and they were made for walkin'.


Mama lives on one of our rural roads. There's not much traffic on her road, which is about a quarter of a mile long. It has only 4 houses and she is the second house.It has a grave yard toward the end of the road, which may creep some people out, but it isn't near her house. There are also several open fields between mama's house and the end of the little road. We walked this road and back at least 2 times, making it a mile. We done it so much, that it was common place. Sorta like brushing your teeth or driving from work to home. You just do it so much, you sometimes don't realize how you got the car from A to B.


On this particular day, I came in from school, didn't have to work, and went on and did my homework. We ate supper, waited for it to settle, cause we didn't want to throw up from getting to hot. It was just starting to dusk, say around 6:30. You could still see shadows ahead of all the familiar surroundings, but it was getting dark quickly.


Mama and I started off going the usual way, up to the stop sign. We seen an old car like the one below pass by. The only difference was that the car that went by was gold. In it was an old man that didn't take care of himself. He had put health on his shelf many, many moons ago.


We continued walking and turned at the stop sign like our usual route went. When we got about 1/2 down the road, just on the other side of mama's, he passed again. By the third damn time we seen this old man, we were starting to get a little worried. The last time he passed he hollered something out the window, which we couldn't quite make out. It may as well been in Latin, French, or some other language we didn't speak.



We had made it one complete round and were headed back again. Right when we got even with the open fields, we looked to the end of the road and saw the old man, back again. Jesus, is he stalking us? He was parked this time, waiting on me and mama. We decided to do an about face and run home, which was a total of 200 ft. That's quite a distance when you have a car occupied by a lunatic you don't even know, chasing you. Let me just tell you, old women CAN run, as mama proved that day. She outran me by a stretch. We made it in the yard just in time to hear his motor almost even with us. We decided to hide behind my brother's car, which was faced toward the house at an angle, so that someone from the road couldn't see his driver's door.


The crazed man, whoever he was, got out of the car looking for us. Oh Lord, he was in the yard, hollering and screaming something. He may have been like a barking dog at a car, not sure what he'd do if he got us. I don't know what he'd have done if he found us, but I sure didn't want to find out. He couldn't find us, got in his car and drove off. Once he pulled off, it took us 2 seconds flat to run in the house and tell daddy.


Now, my daddy is not one for crap. He doesn't mess with anyone or their belongings, you better not mess with his. Being the country boy that he was and still is, and considering how long it would take the law, daddy did what any good rural man would do. He went and got the 22, hid in the graveyard close to the open fields and told us to walk. Mama and I were both scared as hell. A man chasing and trying to get us was about to lose his life, and daddy was about to shoot somebody we didn't even know. I guess it was his lucky day because he didn't come back.


I have never, ever forgot this day. I am still eerie of parked cars close to my house. Whoever says adults can't be kidnapped and old ladies can't run doesn't know what they're talking about. Whoever the man is, where ever he is, he has someone looking down on Him with a lot more mercy than what daddy was going to show him.

I Don't Give Women Clothes

I don't buy clothes for other women for Christmas. I try not to give money for clothing, either. The reasoning behind all of this is logical.


First, no woman has another woman's taste in clothing. What I may think is as cute as a button, another woman would shudder at the sight. Some women like flowers, some don't. Some like stripes, some don't. Your taste are not like mine and you may think it looks like grandma or a teenager. I, on the other hand, may think it's just what that person needs.


Another reason I don't buy women clothing is because of size. If the woman is a big woman, and I buy it too small, she could think I am insisting she lose weight. If it's too big, I'm sayin' "Here's what size I think you wear." If she's skinny, I may just have to go to the kids department, which would really piss me off if I were skinny.


Next, if I buy short sleeved clothes in the winter time, she's gonna know I got it on sale. Then, she will swear that this is the only reason I bought the article of clothing to begin with. I don't want her taking it back to the store to find out I only paid $6.99 for it. No, I don't want that.


Then, there's the idea that I must get all of these factors right: size, style and price. What, does she think I'm Chris Angel? It's much simpler to go to Bath and Body Works and pick up a bath set. If she doesn't like the smell, at least it isn't telling her she needs to lose weight, or wear a blouse like grandma.


I don't give money for clothing either. How do I know the gift card is gonna be spent on clothes? As a matter of fact, I don't give money at all. To me, it's the best way of saying," I don't know what you like, so go buy yourself something." I'd much rather pick her up something that any woman would like, like a Yankee candle, initial earrings, a bracelet, something...


Clothing is a bad idea for women. Now for men, as long as it fits, it's as good as hanging in the closet. We women are more complex creatures. If you must give clothing, give a scarf, hat or gloves.


Every time I get the urge to give clothing, I'm reminded of Ralphie Parker in the bunny suit. Although he's not a woman, I feel the same way when someone gives me some gaudy, hideous, clothing. Couldn't you have picked me up a key chain, a candle, a cup, anything? For heaven's sake, all you could find was THIS?



I don't give women clothing. Period.

A Lot Like Ralphie

It's the time of year when everybody pulls out A Christmas Story, starring Ralphie Parker. If he doesn't get the Red Ryder bb gun from Santa Claus, the whole world is gonna be disappointed. I have watched this movie since I was in the 7th grade and laugh my ass off every year. It's as if I forget all the funny parts from the year before and have to remind myself each year.


My life was a lot like Ralphie's.

1.Just like Ralphie, I always had a little, whining nagging sibling. You know, the one that always took the attention away from me? So, just like Ralphie, I had to find other ways to get attention, and boy did I.


2. Ralphie and I both learned to curse early. No, you didn't always hear it, and in fact, adults hardly ever did. I would curse a kid out in 10 seconds flat. I was always trying to beat my last score, like instead of 10, make it 8 seconds. That, my friend, is an accomplishment.


3. We both always lost important crap. Ralphie lost and broke his glasses. I just always lost it, didn't get the chance to break it. I prolly would've if I would've found it.


4. Teachers didn't like us. Teachers at my school thought they had just gotten their Christmas in July if my name wasn't on their homeroom list. I didn't get in a lot of trouble and had good grades. I just liked to talk and plan things for other kids to do that would cause trouble.


5. Parents always called and told on us. Like the mom calling to tell Ralphie had said the f* word, parents loved tattling on me. What, their child had to be talked into trouble?


6. Bullies learned quickly. Ralphie's got a bloody nose. Mine, they got a hard time. You can't be considered a bully if the person you are trying to run over winds up running over you. I was too much trouble, so they usually saved face, and moved on.


7. Santa always seemed too far away. Ralphie's Santa had 500 kids to talk to before it was his turn. Mine just seemed too tall, too spassed out, like maybe a Santa on crack? He must've been, all the things he promised me that I never got, like the new car, or the $150.00 purse, never mind that I was in the fourth grade.


8. Just like Ralphie, a $50.00 toy may as well been $5000.00. It seemed just that big of a deal. The one bicycle I did get was like Neil Armstrong sending me a personal invite to the moon.


9. Both of us always got presents from kin folk we never wanted or used. They didn't see me enough to know what I liked.


10. We always had the friends no one else wanted. Therefore, we always had a a lot of friends. There were quite a few children that didn't belong to any click, and they needed one, so it was always mine.

The Uncommon Christmas

Faith Hill's song Where Are You Christmas is a perfect rendition of the way I feel about Christmas. It's not that I don't enjoy Christmas cause I certainly do. Christmas is never the same once we grow up and save all year to get that toy that our kid would pull all his hair out if he didn't get. Like the toy that we would search to the depths of the earth to find, and would prefer that it open up so we could crawl in it if we don't.



The problem is Christmas is so common place for a lot of us. They run together, I swear. Christmas '04, I can' t recall anything about it that was different about it than Christmas '05, or '06, or '07, unless it was the cost. Put up the tree, bake the goods, wrap the presents, wish my yard was daunting someone else's decorations..... or plot how I could get the decor from their yard to mine without anyone recognizing it.



I've made a promise to myself that this year will be a Christmas to remember. I'll bet if we woke up Christmas morning and there were no decorations or presents, now THAT would be a Christmas to remember. I'm not talkin' about that kind of Christmas, where the kids suddenly hate Santa.



Home Alone or Ralphie's daddy gettin' the leg lamp, those were Christmas' to remember, not soon to be forgotten. I still watch The Christmas Story every year, just to remind me what a gift it is not to have a dad like Ralphie's, or a mom that is so Harriet Olsen in another time/another place, nagging and aggravating.




So, I'm on a Christmas mission. I plan on making this the most uncommon Christmas we've had. What do you do to make your Christmas' memorable?

Yes Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus

We are so selfish at Christmas. Like Christmas was an event that took place just for us to get presents on someone else's birthday. Sad, but I've taught it to my kids.


Every year, it's had to be bigger and better. Last year was the XBox 360 and a 4 wheeler, not including all the bells and whistles of odds and ends, like clothes, Nikes, Xbox games, etc.


I'm lowering the standards this year. It's gonna be like a sonic boom of kids screaming "No," heard around the world. So, if you go outside Christmas morning and hear faint sounds of children yelling no, you will know that it's those crazy boys from the south that didn't get anything bigger than last year. Like what could be bigger than an XBox and a 4 wheeler? A car? Not at 10 and 8.


Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, but for heaven's sake little girl, he's old. The reindeer are tired, and worn. We have to make the load on them a little lighter.

Glued to the Toilet

Picture this: A man comes home from work to find his live in girlfriend on the toilet. After about 2 hours "Gosh honey, it must've been something you ate." She says, "I'll be fine, go ahead and just use the other bathroom to shower." Before going to bed, the man asks his gf "Do I need to call the doc?" "No seriously, I'll be fine."


The next morning he wakes up and realizes that she is STILL on the commode. Hello~ Something should go off like a bomb, saying: 1. Either she needs to get to a doctor, OR 2. Something is mentally wrong with this chic and she needs a different kind of doctor.


Not the boyfriend. He didn't see the light on day 5 OR on day 365. Try 2 years later, when he calls the Ness County Sheriff's Department and whispers in a girl-e-o voice, "Something is wrong with my girlfriend." Ya think, Sherlock?


This story came out in March and it still gives me the hebe-gebes. It brings a whole new light to being glued to the toilet. Literally, she was, cause her skin had like grown to the toilet seat. I'll bet that was one hell of a ring-around -the-butt.


The bf brought her food and water. What I'm thinkin' is what about bathin'? For 2 years? There is no posh side to this woman, no girlie girl for sure. How does anyone go this long without bathing and proclaim to have a feminine side at all? Plus, what did she do during the day while boyfriend worked?


He told the news that he'd ask her to come out and she would always say "Maybe tomorrow," which really cracks me up, cause there was a heck of a lot of tomorrows with this gal.


As if everything wasn't enough, police had to pry her off the commode, literally, as in using a pry bar. They left the seat attached and took her to the hospital. They (the law) was thinkin' about pressin' charges against the bf. That's ironic to me ~ they should've pressed 'em against her, because it should be against the law to not bathe for that long.


Did he just dust around her like she was some big what knot? "You just sit tight. I'm going to sweep around you." "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, don't you worry about that!"


What about company? Did she just disappear into the bathroom for 2 years and no one know that something was wrong? Two Christmas', Two Valentine's Days, Two Easters, Two of Everything...


One things for sure...she didn't have kids...cause if she did, there is NO WAY she could've even stayed on that dang toilet for more than 5 minutes without someone needing her to do something.

Rehaving This Baby

As you can tell, I'm slowly recovering my stuff. Now, I have to go and put all the other crap from the sidebar back on, which really makes me want to eat a rusty nail or 2. I found the problem to be in one of my signature codes at the end of each post. Yea, it really made me want to punch myself in the face for ever putting my signature on things anyway. I didn't do it though. I have to keep my anger management under control, which really pisses me off. Ooops~



I did download Photoshop for old computers, you know the 5.5 version that was made in or around 1958? I never knew they made a Photoshop for a computer this old, even though it's a Windows 2000. In the techno world it's like dog years, 7 years for each real year. Gah~ my computer is like 56 years old. This is one old man I'm typing on and viewing things from space and beyond.



So Photoshop is really kicking my tail right now. It's just like learning anything in Word. I have tried a few things and have some stuff in mind that will give my page a new look that better suits me. I'm so excited about learning this that I can often be heard miles away.


The thing about having to redo a blog page is this: it's like having a baby and then having to REHAVE it all over again, which really grips my behind. It may be wee hours of the night, but at least boiling bottles is still a thing of my past~

We Are Sick, But Gonna Recover

My blog is very sick. I am having trouble with the font and other things in the sidebar. I have tried very hard to get the problem under control and it's something hidden, I believe. Some of the things like Twitter, Quotes, Blogroll and Categories are down for now. Once I determine how to fix this, I will put all of it back up.

I hate when crap like this happens. It's like having a sick child. Hours and hours of perfecting my blog like I want it and something has to happen. Oh well, I wanted a new layout template anyway. Maybe this is the perfect way to get one.

Two Sprinkles From the Fountain of Youth, Please

I'm too old. That's what my boys are telling me, in not so many words. They occasionally like to "fix me up" ~ do up my hair, style it and put makeup on me. It's all a big surprise until they're finished. Then I can look in the mirror and proclaim that it's the best makeover I've had since the last time they done it. (Considering they're the only one's that do it and all....)


Tonight they washed my hair, blow dried it, and put makeup on me. As my oldest son, Buddy, was putting on the powder, he looks at his brother and remarks "Look at all those lines..." I immediately felt as if I had been shot in the gut.


What dang lines? I've never seen any or did I miss something? So now, not only is my hair graying faster than most people my age, but I have all those lines on my face. Like cracks from worn out cement- that's my face.


I need a sprinkle from the fountain of youth. Make that 2 sprinkles~ one for the gray and one for "all those lines"~