Hill Country Gal

THE LESSON

2008-02-11T12:54:00.000-08:00

So Beau here

taught me 3 things this weekend.

1. When pissed off, crying & hollering is self-defeating. All it does is make you snot. Instead, trot your ass outside, turn your face upward toward the sun, and occasionally, lick your balls. OK, so the ball-licking part is out, but the sun thingie is in.

2. If you arf, get somebody else to clean it up. Then drink lots of water.

3. If someone raises your hackles, listen to your hackles. They're there for a reason. Trust them.

OK, 4 things.

4. Piss on this asshole.

A campaign flyer for this ^^^^ asshat here was IN MY YARD when I got back from Dallas late last night.

Beau knows.

As soon as the front door was opened and freedom was at hand, Beau The Brilliant ran over to the flyer and promptly pissed on it.

Beau knows.

4. Piss on the asshole

:)

BIG D

2008-02-09T00:51:00.000-08:00

Heading there Sunday.

What are your plans for the weekend?

:)

TGIF

2008-02-08T01:50:00.000-08:00

For real.

TGIF!

Photo of The Beautiful Elena

TGIF!

:)

O NO

2008-02-06T23:20:00.000-08:00

So let's say you buy a product and it doesn't perform up to par.

What to do, what to do?

Well, if you're a savvy consumer, after you have tried and tried but received no satisfaction from the retailer, you take the next logical step.

You file a complaint with Consumer Protection.

Now, if you're here in the good ole USA, you'll get laughed at. By Consumer Protection. Dubyaland, you know....

However, if you're in Romania, watch out!

The agency will actually go to bat, so to speak, for you.

Case in point.

Dude, mid 40s, bought himself a blowup doll.

Uh huh, he did.

And not just any blowup doll, either.

No sir, his doll moaned.

Uh huh, it did.

So he enjoyed the *fellowship* of his *cough* lady for a bit and then she got a headache.

She quit moaning.

BTW, I Googled "blowup dolls" and and found this ^^^^^ lovely creature.

Now where was I?

Oh yeah, his baby quit moaning.

It also deflated "too quickly."

Gawdhelpme, I can't hardly type this.

BWAAAAAAAHHAHAHHAHHAAA!

Where was I?

Oh yeah, complaint.

So Consumer Protection there in Romania, after carefully "testing" said *companion,* not only fined the sex shop £600 but ordered it to give Blue Balls Dude a new lady friend.

Now that's what I'm talking about!

Let's look at the Alien Babe one more time, shall we?

She was obtained through the Freedom of Information Act.

Declassified.

Absolute fave among the Minutemen.

And now you know where the term "Minutemen" comes from, too.

'Sup, pendejo?

CHEW ON THIS

2008-02-05T23:44:00.000-08:00

China got the munchies.

That's right, baby.

You know how it is.

Long day, a little stress here and yonder, playtime, some salivating....

Poof!

Next thing you know, 4 of your toes have been chewed the fuck off.

And your ass was sound asleep and you didn't even realize it.

The thing that wakes you up is your frantic roommate shaking you (while studiously avoiding your bloody nubs) back to daylight.

Ain't lying here!

"Kentucky resident, Terri Smith, 27, didn’t realize what had happened until his roommate, Tim Cantrell, found him in his bed with a blood-covered left foot Wednesday morning.

Cantrell said that Smith had been in an accident five years ago, which left him paralyzed from the waist down.

The five-month-old pit bull, named China, chewed off the toes as Smith lay in bed."

Eeny, Meny, Miny, Moe

Alpo!

:)

SUPER FAT TUESDAY

2008-02-05T09:18:00.000-08:00

Map of the United States showing the states holding caucus and primary elections on Super Duper Tuesday of the 2008 en:U.S. presidential primary cycle.

Key:

* Purple: states holding elections for both parties (19)
* Blue: Democratic Party (United States)en-only elections (3)
* Red: Republican Party (United States)en-only elections (2)

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez

If you want to really get into the festivities, here you go. Mardi Gras Paradecam.

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez

because tonight

We Celebrate!

:)

A GATHERING OF DICKS

2008-02-04T03:46:00.000-08:00

It was bound to happen sooner or latter, and hallelujah, it has.

The one-stop Dickshop is here!

That's right, baby.

Dickipedia - A Wiki of Dicks.

Naturally, The Dick

is a member.

Uh huh, he is.

To wit:

Early Life and Family - "In 1959, he matriculated to Yale University, where it was thought to be impossible to flunk out. After flunking out, Cheney returned to Wyoming in 1960. He ended up graduating from the University of Wyoming at the age of twenty-four, the perfect age for a young black man to serve his country in the army."

Cheney and the Draft - "Cheney received a “hardship exemption" in 1966 when he and his wife conceived their first child. By the next year, he was no longer eligible for the draft. It had been a long process, but Cheney learned a valuable lesson: if you get in a jam, you can usually get out of it by fucking somebody."

Vice President - "In 2006, Cheney shot his 78-year-old friend in the face while quail hunting -- a practice some call "an accident" and others call "good clean fun."

Future as Vice President - "One theory about why Cheney would care so little about nuclear war and the casualties it would cause is because, in fact, Cheney actually died several years ago, and is just too big of a dick to leave, instead simply willing his body to carry one through sheer dick will."

Now Dickipedia is short several prominent dicks.

Among them are:

Every single dick in this photo montage,

and

and

and

and
Well, OK, not that ^^^^ Tweety.

This

Now, we have many superbly talented peeps who comment here regularly.

You know exactly where this is going, yes?

So anyway, all you superbly talented peeps listen up!

Dickipedia needs your writing skill.

So stir up that gray matter and get busy.

Let the Dick-A-Thon begin!

:)

THE BLUE

2008-02-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

THE HALLELUJAH

2008-02-01T03:52:00.000-08:00

So this dude that works for the State Police *UP* in Hamilton, N.J. has been going to church a lot lately.

You see, he's been *ahem* testing his faith.

That's right, baby.

And what better way to do so than to watch

on a

computer.

OK, I'm fibbing.

Not on HER^^^^^ computer.

Besides, ^^^ hard drive is nothing but

Instead, Thomas G. Findler was busted sneaking into Grace St. Paul Episcopal Church in the night over the last three weeks to look at pornography on a nun's computer.

The church "custodian chased him out, right into a police officer who happened to be nearby."

Prolly waiting for his turn on the computer.

Anyhoo, reached Thursday morning, Findler's father said his son was not home.

Hallelujah!

Bless me, for I have sinned....

.....and it was good!

:)

THE AMAZING

2008-01-30T18:10:00.000-08:00

Post Secrets

Without doubt, this is one of the most amazing vids I have ever seen.

THE MYSTERY

2008-01-30T00:34:00.000-08:00

So I had just finished taking my shower and

OK, back up.

Let me set the stage here.

I don't have one of those dresser drawer thingies for clothes. Well, I do, but it's upstairs and it's cold up there in the winter and ass-hot in the summer.

So, in the washer/dryer room, downstairs right next to the bathroom, there's a row of shelves.

And this row of shelves is where the clothes that are being worn that season get put.

To wit:

The Nurse's shelves.

My shelf.

Notice the order of my stuff on my shelf. R to L, bandanna, socks, the 2 bras I own, panties, sweat shirts and pants, jammies, and T-shirts.

So here's the routine.

Just before my shower, I grab a pair of panties and a T-shirt and beebop to the bathroom. I place them on the top of the commode shelf thingie and do the shower thang. I dry off, deodorize the pits, Q tip the ears, and reach for the clean clothes. Panties first, followed by the T.

Simple. Routine. Never varies.

Except

Last night, did the shower, deodorant, Q tip. Put the panties on, reached for the T.

Whoa!

My panties were down around my ankles.

Hmmmmmm

OK, pulled 'em back up over my hips and reached for the T.

Panties flopped to my ankles.

WTF???

Put my glasses on and held the panties up for inspection.

Right style? Uh huh.

Right fabric? Yeah.

Right color? You bet.

Right size? FUCK NO!

They were, oh, I don't know, about 6 or 8 sizes TOO BIG FOR ME!

So I put the T on, got another pair of panties (that fit) and headed to the living room where The Nurse was in his recliner watching something on TV.

I stood between him and the TV and held the HUMONGOUS white cotton bikini panties up in front of me.

The Nurse: "Holy shit! Are you gaining weight?"

Me: "Fuck off. Have you finally decided to explore your feminine side?"

The Nurse: "Nope."

Pause.

The Nurse: "But you can bet your sweet ass if I did those would be lacy & satiny."

BWAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!

So the question is, where the fuck did those big ass panties come from?

Now, theoretically, it's possible The Nurse had an orgy with 3-4 women and one of 'em washed, dried and folded their panties and put 'em in my pile and I just didn't notice. Them or my panties stack.

After all, when I'm in my office writing a post, I am intensely focused on nothing else.

As a matter of fact, Brad Pitt himself could be sitting on my face and I wouldn't notice unless his genitals were blocking my view of my monitor and then I'd just be like, "Yo, Brad, move the boys. Now!"

So the question remains, where the fuck did those big ass panties come from?

You know, you learn a lot about peeps by their underwear.

That's right, baby, you do.

Ever have guests that stay for a few days and you offer to wash their clothes for 'em?

I did.

Brother in law.

Black thongs.

OMFG!!

Black thongs.

BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA!

:)

Any movie fans in the house tonight?

This vid is a compilation of movie themes composed by the great Basil Poledouris. See if you can name all the movies here.

AFTER SOTU

2008-01-28T20:51:00.000-08:00

Somehow, this seems appropriate in the light of day after enduring Dubya.The.Vile.Prick's last ever (we hope) SOTU.

59%

blatantly stolen from my friend John Good at Left in Aboite.

Now take this test.

Obviously, I am a meat eater.

Friend or not.

If I'm starving, you will start to look might tasty to my hungry ass.

And you better NOT fucking taste like chicken, either, you hear me?

:)

Hey, guys, we survived SOTU.

WoooooHoooooo!!!

:)

THE STATE OF THE UNION IS FUCKED

2008-01-27T18:10:00.000-08:00

Yes, dudes & dudettes, once again it's SOTU time.

Only this time, it will be

last ever SOTU.

We're gonna be live blogging the ~~drunken~~ historic occasion and if you choose to join in, we're gonna be getting shitfaced.

We will be downing 1 shot of whatever your fave poison is every time Dubya The Asshole mentions certain words.

To wit:

STIMULATE

FREEDOM

DEMOCRACY

BLOW

Now, no SOTU ~~slurred~~ delivered by Dubya The Asshole is complete without an "Alamo Basement."

For those of you who aren't familiar with it, Welcome to Texas!

"Alamo Basement"

2 parts peach schnapps

1 part Ballerina vodka (or any vodka that comes in a 1/2 gallon plastic easy-pour safety bottle)

A crushed Vicodin*, and a splash of soda.

It's served through a funnel and accompanied by chanting.

* If the person ordering is such an anal stickler for historical accuracy that they say,
"There is no basement in the Alamo!," Substitute two Vicodin.
~courtesy of the marvelous Betty Bowers.~

Bonus.

If, by some miraculous cosmic event, Darth Cheney's latest pacemaker yells, "Fuck this! I'm outta here" during SOTU, we will pause in our festivities (momentarily) while you grab yourself a piece of ass.

Followed promptly by 2 shots of your fave drink, of course.

Are you ready to rumble?

Saddle up, baby.

Let's ride!

:)

BTW, you can live stream SOTU HERE.

A SHORT STORY - THE WEE VIKINGS

2008-01-27T10:23:00.000-08:00

In

there's a renegade gang of

'ing

'ing

who are climbing into the

compartment of the

and stealing said

and shit.

A

said

"We're

of installing

on the

Uh huh.

:)

THE PET

2008-01-26T12:10:00.000-08:00

So Dani (dude) and Tasha (dudette) got all dressed up.

Well, for them it was dressed up.

And they beebopped to the bus stop and when the bus arrived, they got on.

Only to be promptly thrown off the bus.

The reason?

The bus driver barked at 'em: "No dogs allowed."

Tacky, you say?

Discriminatory, you think?

Huh.

Well, let's examine the issue, shall we?

Here they are, as they were dressed on said day.

That's right, baby.

Dani (dude) had a LEASH around Tasha's (dudette) neck.

Uh huh, a leash.

Now here's where Granny damn near got the vapors, m'kay?

"I am a pet, I generally act animal like and I lead a really easy life,"
Tasha said.

"I AM A PET."

A fucking PET.

Tasha's not Dani's equal.

She's not even his gorked out Fundie wife/girlfriend required to walk 2 paces behind him.

Nuh huh.

She's his PET.

Smelling salts. Now!

:)

BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

THE SHOOTING

2008-01-25T11:15:00.000-08:00

So these 2 dudes in Australia were out hunting

eggs.

That's right, baby. Croc eggs.

One of the dudes, Jason Grant, apparently never saw "Lake Placid" because he was, well, feeling around for the croc eggs in the murky water.

Sure enough, Mama Croc wasn't happy about her eggs getting stolen so she did what any pissed off Mama Croc would do.

She chomped down on Jason's arm.

Jason: "A croc's got hold of my arm. Shoot it!!!"

His bud Zac Fitzgerald did.

BOOM!

Jason: "The croc, you asshole!! The croc!!"

Jason is recovering in a hospital.

Jason and Zac must not be good friends, you know?

After all, really good friends

shoot each other in the face with buckshot all the time.

And the shootee fucking apologizes to the shooter.

Be a standup dude, Jason!

Apologize to Zac......

.....for having your arm in the bullet's path.

:)

Blatant Blogwhoring

2008-01-24T14:08:00.000-08:00

Ya 'all stop by and say HOW-DEE, ya hear? Just click on the picture.....

Hill has no computer!!

2008-01-22T06:54:00.000-08:00

I know we are all going through "Hill withdrawal" here in the Hill Country. But we're not the only ones. Check out who else is very, very sad about the lack of our daily Hill.

This kid from Dawson's Creek had a near meltdown when he logged onto Hill Country this morning.

This little girl was not only sad - but MAD as hell!! She said she ain't eating her peas until Hill is back online.

This woman (man? who the hell knows) can't take one more minute without Hill's videos.

Keith Olbermann is trying to be brave, but says he is so upset he may not be able to do his show this evening.

Even cartoon babies are freaking out!

When Britney Spears heard the news, she said "Now what the hell am I going to do to pass the time while I'm in rehab!?!?!"

This tragic young woman ruined her eye make-up!!

Even this fucker was sad. Wait..........I think those are crocodile tears.

Here's how he really feels. Don't let this asshat be happy geek squad!! Get Hill's computer fixed FAST!!

**Posted by C.J.

DEAN HRBACEK: LYING LARDASS

2008-01-20T19:18:00.000-08:00

Let me introduce you to Dean Hrbacek, repuke and former mayor of Sugarland, TX.

You guys remember Sugarland, yes?

Sugarland. Home to

So anyhoo, this Dean dude is among 10 repukes seeking the nomination to run against U.S. Rep. Nick Lampson, D-Stafford.

And in keeping with the repuke tradition we have all come to know so well, Dean has a new campaign brochure thingie going on. You know, his "record" speaks for itself yada yada. Refer to Photo 1.

EXCEPT

Dean's photo in the brochure is, well, "altered" a tad.

That's his head in it, alright.

But the nice slim bod?

Oh, fuck no.

That's SOMEBODY ELSE'S BOD with Dean's head Photoshopped on it.

That's right, baby.

And you are not going to believe the excuse his campaign manager came up with when Dean was busted in his lie.

Get this.

"Hrbacek has been so busy meeting voters that he had no time to take a full-length, genuine photo for the political mailing," according to campaign manager Scott Broschart.

Too busy for a genuine photo.

Now by this time, you guys know me pretty well, yes?

And YOU KNOW I just had to find some photos of the real Dean bod.

I did.

Look at this lardass.

Left to Right, Jabba The Dean with asshat TX Gov. Rick "The Coiffure" Perry

There's an entire Flickr photo show of
*cough* "I am not a pig, I have thyroid probs" Dean right here.

Too busy for a genuine photo.

BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!

Oink.

:)

JAKE IS 6

2008-01-19T21:05:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Jake.

Granny loves you.

A lot.

:)

THE COWBOY

2008-01-18T22:14:00.000-08:00

GRAY MATTER

2008-01-16T23:27:00.000-08:00

Guest post by my friend, Capt. Bat Guano.

(click to enlarge)

Good day Hillites, Capt. Bat Guano here with a
"what's wrong with this picture" challenge.

Since I won Hill's little contest I had to/was allowed to do a guest posting. Not being a political pundit or some towering intellect, I went for the easy way out.

Hopefully I have picked something that is not overly vague, but that's fun and mentally stimulating. The ability, or inability to identify what's wrong with this picture will tell us something about where you grew up or maybe lived for a while.

Anyway, enough of my blather, let the guessing begin. I'll tell who won, or the answer if no one guesses correctly, at 9:00 p.m. Hill Country time.

*THANK YOU, Capt!*

:)

AH YES, THE VAPID ONE

2008-01-16T01:23:00.000-08:00

Grab your barf bag.

My *cough* fave vapid "anchor" speaks.

And giggles.

And bitches.

And

Well, you'll see...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

What an asshole, yes?

HELL, yes!

:)

Well, here, I'll let the classy Whitney say it for me, m'kay?

WASTED

2008-01-15T20:14:00.000-08:00

So this ~~idiot~~ dude over in Germany set his apartment on fire accidentally.

Sort of.

OK, here's what happened.

The dude, name unknown but easy to recognize (the one with the singed off eyebrows) was having a good ole time drinking whiskey from a

No problemo.

Except

He decided he needed just ONE MORE SIP.

He took it.

Problemo.

Instead of whiskey, said idiot drank

That's right, baby.

He got his whiskey and his gasoline mixed up.

So anyway, he chugs a lug of gasoline.

PROJECTILE SPIT!

Right out onto the

in the room.

FLASH!

FIRE!!!

So seriously now, HOW FUCKED UP DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO CONFUSE YOUR WHISKEY WITH YOUR GASOLINE?!???

According to the article, this idiot had GASOLINE in a flask.

Now I have a question, OK?

WHY?

Why in the flying fuck would you EVER put gasoline in a flask?

Color me reasonable here, but seems to me, that would sort of be a signal to your brain that you were really were batshit crazy.

As in cuckoo.

Premium or unleaded?

Both!

:)

Radar Love

PERCEPTIONS

2008-01-14T11:12:00.000-08:00

It's all about perceptions, isn't it?

So tell me.

What do you see?

Pain

or

Pleasure?

Huh?

Why are you being quiet all of a sudden?

Tell me!

:)

Slow Ride

THE DISINTEGRATION

2008-01-14T08:51:00.000-08:00

So, I trusted my washing machine.

I did.

I trusted the "HAND WASH" setting.

Big, BIG mistake.

We're gonna have a contest.

First person that tells me what the fuck that shit is and what it came off of is gonna win a prize.

The prize?

Well, you may not think it's much of a prize, but still...

Anyway, first person that correctly identifies the crap in my washing machine and what it came off of is gonna be invited to do a "Guest Post" here.

Any subject.

Your choice.

So tell me.

What the fuck is that shit?

:)

Red Hot

KNOWING....

2008-01-13T03:20:00.000-08:00

...in the biblical way.

So, there's this little town in

named

And the town sign keeps getting stolen.

No shit, Sherlock.

The Austrians aren't amused.

I am.

"British tourists have left the residents of one charming Austrian village effing and blinding by constantly stealing the signs for their oddly named village.

While British visitors are finding it hilarious, the residents of Fucking are failing to see the funny side.

Only one kind of criminal stalks the sleepy 32-house village near Salzburg on the German border - cheeky British tourists armed with a sense of humor and a screwdriver.

But the local authorities are hitting back with the signs now set in concrete, police chief Kommandant Schmidtberger is on the lookout.

"We will not stand for the Fucking signs being removed," the officer said."

Apparently, only the British tourists are obsessed with Fucking.

"The Germans all want to see the Mozart house in Salzburg," according to local tourist guide Andreas Beumueller. "Every American seems to care only about 'The Sound of Music' (the 1965 film shot around Salzburg.) The occasional Japanese wants to see Hilter's birthplace in Braunau."

"Bitte - nicht so schnell!" is German for "Please - not so fast!"

Fucking-A!

:)

THE ENEMY

2008-01-11T22:29:00.000-08:00

WHY I LOVE THE GOOGLE

2008-01-10T23:16:00.000-08:00

1 a.m.

REM out the window, eyelids pop open.

Hmmmmmmmmm.....

I know!

I'm gonna Google "funny street signs."

I like funny street signs. They're funny.

I do and they are.

But I'm doomed.

No, I don't see dead people.

I see blue links.

They MAKE ME click on 'em.

I do.

And eventually, I land in Bizzaroland From Hell.

That's right, baby, my happy ass is reading about phobias. Not just any old everyday run-of-the-mill boring phobias, but the 10 most bizarre phobias ever.

Ergasiophobia - Fear of Work

"Ergasiophobia can be a persistent and debilitating disorder in some people, causing significant psychological disability and dysfunction," according to the article.

I love it!

Next time somebody hollers at me, "Git a job!" you know what I'm gonna say, yes?

"No can do. I have Ergasiophobia."

Fucking fear of work. Now you just KNOW some lazy ass MoFo was laying around one day and his/her partner was yelling and hollering and carrying on about
"Git a job."

The old standby, "Nobody's hiring," got deep six'd when partner held up pages and pages of classifieds.

Shit!

What to do, what to do?!?

Light bulb!

1. Make up a Latin-ish sounding word and attach "phobia" to the end of it.

2. Ergasiophobia. Check!

"No can work. I have Ergasiophobia."

Which is playtime compared to

Ithyphallophobia - Fear of Erections

From the article: "Defined as “a persistent, abnormal, and unwarranted fear of an erect penis”, each year this surprisingly common phobia causes countless people needless distress. To add insult to an already distressing condition, most fear of erection therapies take months or years and sometimes even require the patient to be exposed repeatedly to their fear. Known by a number of names - Medorthophobia, Phallophobia, Ithyphallophobia, and Fear of an Erect Penis being the most common - the problem often significantly impacts the quality of life. It can cause panic attacks and keep people apart from loved ones and business associates."

Fear of an Erect Penis.

Nope.

Not one of Granny's phobias.

UP!

:)

Tonight's The Night

THE FILMING

2008-01-10T03:53:00.000-08:00

You guys know that lots of movies and TV shows and such have been filmed in and around Austin, yes?

Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Courage Under Fire, Lonesome Dove (TV miniseries), Miss Congeniality 1 and 2, Office Space, and Secondhand Lions are but a few of the ones filmed in this area. The complete list is here.

So my happy ass is beebopping along reading the local news when I stumbled across a sentence that stopped me cold in my tracks.

Go ahead, guess what it featured?

No, not that.

This.

Filmmaking siblings Joel and Ethan Coen are set to make their goriest film ever — a Spaghetti Western featuring scenes of primitive torture methods. The brothers, whose notoriously gory new film “No Country for Old Men” has been tipped for Oscar glory, are desperate to make a film about the days of cowboys and Indians battling it out in the Wild West of America. But, as Joel warns, it won’t be one for the faint-hearted. He says, “We’ve written a western with a lot of violence in it. There’s scalping and hanging … it’s good. Indians torturing people with ants, cutting their eyelids off.” Ethan adds, “It’s a proper western, a real western, set in the 1870s. It’s got a scene that no one will ever forget because of one particular chicken.”

A chicken.

You guys KNOW how I feel about the nasty little fuckers.

Forget the primitive torture crap mentioned in the article.

This is what haunts me.

"It’s got a scene that no one will ever forget because of one particular chicken."

Hot wings?

:)

Texas

DUDE, YOUR BALLS STINK

2008-01-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

If you've been told your balls would gag the maggot or if your "downstairs" guest is a tad more discreet and simply sprays your nuts with Lysol Disinfectant or Renuzit when you drop your drawers, have I got the product for you!

No more awkward moments when your lover passes the fuck out from the funk of your nuts.

No more embarrassing episodes when your dog barfs when he gets a whiff of your boys.

Those days are gone, baby!

That's right, baby.

Nodoro, the stinky balls freshener.

Now, with Nodoro, you can smell as clean as a dude who actually showers regularly.

And, according to Nodoro's website, if your balls don't make your lover's eyes water and their gag reflexes go viral before getting within 10 feet of your nasty self, your sex life will improve.

So don't be shy. Shoo those buzzards away, pick up the phone and order some ball freshener.

Your ~~entire neighborhood~~ lover will thank you.

Nuts!

:)

Great Balls

GOOD EVENING, CLARICE...

2008-01-08T02:13:00.000-08:00

Chianti, anyone?

:)

On My Own

CHANGES

2008-01-06T19:44:00.000-08:00

New year, new look at Hill's Country.

This is just prelim, as my friend voxd is gonna tackle the template on Monday.

Strap yourself in, friends, we're going on one wild-ass ride!

voxd, thank you!!

:)

Handel's Sarabande

LAZY SUNDAY....

2008-01-06T06:37:00.000-08:00

...Hill Country version.

You guys know what a hammock is, yes?

I mean, is there anything that says "Lazy Sunday" more than a hammock?

You climb in, stretch out, maybe swing a little, maybe not, and you just kick back.

It's what Lazy Sundays are all about.

Well, we also have Lazy Sunday here.

You guys know what a pump house is, yes?

No?

OK, I'll tell you.

It's nothing more than an enclosure to protect the water well pump from the elements like rain or freeze.

It's this.

The door on the pump house gets opened for one of 2 reasons.

1. You turn on the water faucet at the kitchen sink and no water comes out.

or

2. When a hard freeze is on the way, you check to make sure the light bulb in the pump house is on and working properly. It's nothing more than a tiny source of heat, which helps keep the pump house warm and not frozen solid inside. Frozen pump means no water in the house.

So, in keeping with the rules, Granny here went out to check the light bulb in the pump house the other day.

Opened the door (which had not been opened for MONTHS) and this is what I saw.

A hammock.

A fucking spiderweb hammock.

That's right, baby.

Lazy Sunday!

Nap, anyone?

:)

I'll Stand By You

THE HAUNTING

2008-01-05T03:49:00.000-08:00

Listen up!

Make sure you don't read this post or look at the pix on an empty stomach, m'kay? Also, put down that cup of coffee or juice or whatever it is you're drinking right now.

Management will NOT buy you a new keyboard. Or a new monitor.

That being said, check this out.

So this dude and his cousin over in England were frying up some bread (yes, I know, but that's what the article says) when someone knocked on the front door. They went to answer the door and when they came back to the kitchen, well, the frying bread was on fire.

Dude: "Fire! Grab the extinguisher!"

Cousin: "You were too cheap to buy one."

Dude: "Baking soda!"

Cousin: "No can find."

Dude: "Mum's nasty big-arse knickers!"

Cousin: "Done!"

Why, yes, that's what these 2 grown men grabbed to beat out the grease fire.

Mum's giganto, crotch-stained knickers.

And Mum here was so proud they used her ratty underwear/horse blanket, she actually POSED for the camera with 'em.

Now, I'm not a rich woman. Not even remotely close.

But this I know.

When the crotch of the panties start looking like you've brewed coffee in 'em, it's time to THROW THEM AWAY.

String some paper towels together, whatever, but goodgawdalmighty, throw them nasty fuckers away!

Crumpets, anyone?

:)

ELO

:)

2008-01-04T04:03:00.000-08:00

It must really, REALLY, suck major ass to be a repuke today.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAA!

:)

What the 'pukes are NOT doing today....

Love it!

GRANNY'S GONNA LIVE!

2008-01-03T10:59:00.000-08:00

What?

I'm hopped up on steroids, baby.

That's right, steroids.

Had a little inflammation thingie going from the fucking allergies.

It's Karma, you know.

Uh huh, it is.

All my life, I thought peeps that whined about allergies were, well, *pussies*.

But then my happy ass moved to The Hill Country.

Guess what?

They ain't pussies!

BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAHAHA

:)

Harvest Moon

THE TASERING

2008-01-01T21:01:00.000-08:00

I accidentally tasered

I did.

It was awful.

Well, for him, I'm pretty sure it was awful.

For me, it was, ah, how do I put this.....

Oh yeah, I know....

BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!

OK, here's what happened.

I was getting my nightly massage from Balless Bob. He was working those paws, too. I mean, he was pushing 'em hard into my back.

Well...

Beau barked at something he imagined was outside and I sorta raised my head to pretend I was vaguely interesting in his "watch dog" capabilities when Balless Bob stopped the massage.

I turned to look at BB and he walked up my back to about my shoulder blades and leaned his nose close to my hand.

So, naturally, I extended my fingers to rubs his ears.

Except I missed.

Remember how I said he been really massaging my back with those pushing the paws thingie?

Uh huh, you guessed it.

I touched the tip of his nose and a fucking spark from hell zapped him.

Static electricity, baby.

I mean, I SAW that blue electricity leap from the tip of my fingers to the tip of his nose.

ZAP!!

He looked stunned for a second, then he FLEW off the couch and RAN outta the room.

Me: "BOB!!! I'm sorry. Come back!"

Me: "BOB! Get your ass back in here. You weren't finished with my massage."

Me: "I apologize, OK? Now get back in here."

Me: "Are you gonna make me beg? You are, aren't you, you little shithead."

Me: "BOB!!!!"

I've been looking for him for like 3 hours now. Still haven't found him. He's SOMEWHERE in this house.

I'm pretty sure I heard him telling Kitty,

"If she reaches out to pet your nose, fucking RUN!!"

BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

OK, now lookie here.

Instead of posting the vid in the left hand corner like I usually do, gonna post this baby right here in the middle.

I gotta tell ya, I was over on YouTube for HOURS and came across this one that just utterly enchanted me.

Do yourself a big favor and watch and listen to the whole video.

You will almost be hypnotized.

:)

Heaven and Earth

AND SO IT BEGINS

2008-01-01T06:15:00.000-08:00

Happy first day of 2008!

So I woke up this morning and thought, "You know what? I'm gonna do one of those feel-good sorta inspirational posts this morning. After all, it is a new year, yada yada."

Then I fully woke up and said "Fuck that."

Now you all know how I feel about this giggling, vapid, totally useless woman here.

Oh, Katie, you lovely thing you!

BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

So anyhoo, I came across some fantastic news concerning it ^^^^^^^^.

Peeps can't stand her skanky ass.

Love it!

Get this. In the past year, 1.1 MILLION viewers have clicked the TV OFF when Katie showed up to do her PR Nightly News Fluff Stuff.

Love ya, Katie!

So that was the story I was gonna post.

Then I made the mistake of clicking on Sitemeter for this place.

You know what that means, yes?

Why, yes, you prolly do.

Another freak-a-zoid found his way to HillCountry.

The EXACT words used to do a Google search and land here were:

"A trip to granny's ass."

What the

is wrong with peeps?!??

"A trip to granny's ass?"

Swear I'm NOT lying here!

What the fuck? Was he Googling vacation destinations and, oh, I don't know, looking for a place a tad out of the ordinary?

"Yellowstone? Nah. Too many tourists."

"Hong Kong? Nope. Too expensive."

"New York City? Fuck no. Too many Yankees."

"Granny's ass? Oh, HELL, yes! Uncharted territory. Fucking-A! Heading over to Granny's ass right now."

WTF is wrong with peeps?!?

Granny's ass, my ass.

Kiss it, freak!

:)

Note: January 1, 2008, calls for a "Celebration," yes?

GOODBYE 2007, HELLO 2008

2007-12-31T07:31:00.000-08:00

Party at Hillbilly's!

See your asses over there.

:)

Note: The man has no shame or dignity whatsoever. I love it!

REMEMBERING "THE MOUNT ME"

2007-12-30T04:32:00.000-08:00

As 2007 winds down, I thought you might enjoy what was my most read post of the entire year.

And it has zero to do with the writing, either.

No shit now, this post, which ran on May 4 (I think) generated the most hits EVER here at HillCountry.

So here it is.

Oh yeah, remember to click on the pixs to enlarge.

OK, ladies and gents,

"THE MOUNT ME"

Y'all are familiar with the Dilbert comic strip, right?

Well.

The comic strip "decency police" struck again.

Here's the story in a nutshell.

Can I say that?

Why, yes, I can.

OK. So here's what happened.

Alice got a bad case of chair buttocks.

So Dilbert's creator, Scott Adams, submitted this.

Big deal, right?

Why, yes, it was a big deal.

See, the Dilbert editors felt that Alice's pose was a "MOUNT ME" pose.

Swear. Read it straight from Scott's place here.

So they sent it back with instructions to make it more of a medical thingie.

Scott did.

Here is his medical version of chair butt.

Bwahahahahahahahahaha

The editors did NOT think it was funny.

Shit, I do.

Anyway, here is the version that finally appeared in the papers.

So there you go. Chair Buttocks NON "MOUNT ME" version.

MOUNT ME!

:)

Note: Cray and Clapton

MASSAGES & LICKING ASS

2007-12-28T11:29:00.000-08:00

I'm getting spoiled.

Really, really spoiled.

Here's the deal.

I get a back massage every night now.

Uh huh, I do.

It's a good massage, too.

I lie on my tummy on my couch and holler

"BOB!!!!!"

And yes,

Balless Bob here comes running.

He jumps on the couch, walks up my legs to my lower back and he starts massaging my back.

Well, I guess technically it's not a massage, it's one of those cat-pushing-their-paws-against-you thingie, but I'll take what I can get.

He's getting really, really good at it, too.

Me: "A little over to the right, please."

Me: "Up just a tad.....THERE! Perfect!"

So last night I was enjoying my massage when I heard a slurping sound.

I'm like, "WTF?!?"

Raised my head up and looked back over my shoulder and

was licking Balless Bob's ASS!

Ain't lying.

Me: "Prissy! Get away from his ass!"

She ignored me.

Kept on licking...

Balless Bob had a rather glazed look in his eyes....

Me: "Prissy!! Get the fuck away from his ass!"

Slurp...slurp

Balless Bob stopped massaging me and RAISED HIS ASS UP HIGHER where Prissy could do her thang.

Me: "WTF are you doing? STOP LICKING HIS ASS!!"

Balless Bob started purring.

Slurp....slurp

Me: "WTF's the matter with Prissy? Why is she licking his ass?"

Hubby: "Prolly tastes like cat food."

BWAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA

Granny needs a vacation!!!!

Somebody, PLEASE, invite me to come visit you.

I'll leave the pets at home, I don't eat much and I won't peek in your medicine cabinet.

I promise.

INVITE ME TO COME VISIT YOU!

:)

Note: Word Association

GRANNY'S TAKING A TRIP

2007-12-27T11:59:00.000-08:00

Note: Now THIS is what I'm talking about!

ETIQUETTE

2007-12-26T12:48:00.000-08:00

So let's talk about

etiquette, shall we?

Before we get into that little ditty, lemme just say it's fucking great to be back online!

OK, now the cell phone thingie....

I was in Applebee's the other day just enjoying my lunch and minding my own business.

Lunch was great and after I was finished, I headed to the bathroom. Needed to do the pee thang and wash my hands since they were basically covered in French Fry grease.

So I beebop into the 2-stall bathroom and one was empty. I opened the door, walked in, closed the door, and got ready to pee.

Sat down on the THOROUGHLY WRAPPED toilet seat and, well, started peeing.

OMFG!!

In the stall next to me was a very, very chatty woman.

At first I thought she was saying something to me, like, "There's no toilet paper here. Can you pass some under the divider?"

Which I would have, being as I'm a nice person and whatnot.

But no.

That is NOT what she was saying.

She was yapping on her cell phone LOUDLY. Sounded like she was talking to her boss, too.

WHILE SHE WAS SHITTING!!

Yes, she was. Every 3 or 4 words outta her mouth there was a flurry of farts & SHIT SPLASHES in the toilet.

Ain't lying.

Now you KNOW if I could hear that, whoever she was talking to on the phone sure as hell could hear it, too.

Prolly amplified.

Seriously now, WTF is wrong with some peeps?

Rule 1. Don't take a crap while you're talking on the fucking phone. It's rude as hell, not to mention I'll come back here and write about your nasty ass.

Rule 2. Take some Gas-X or something. Goodgawdalmighty!!

"Well, yes, you know, I was getting *SPLASH!* ready to file those briefs and *THUD SPLASH* then the phone rang, and *PTRRRRRRRRRRR* and it was Mrs. Jones on the line so *EXPLOSIVE SPLASH....*"

:)

Note: Dreams

SANTA'S HERE

2007-12-24T12:42:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, my friends.

For Hillbilly

For Mike in Philly

For Pam

For voxd

For Capt.

For scooter in brooklyn

For Keith in France

For Margaret

For Doc

For Nicholas

For Nando

For LadyBug

For Good Man

For Spanish Goth

For Marine

For OldCranky

:)

Note: For me

THE QUESTIONS

2007-12-23T22:02:00.000-08:00

So I blatantly ~~stole~~ borrowed this from Crooks and Liars.

1. What is your favorite word?
2. What is your least favorite word?
3. What turns you on?
4. What turns you off?
5. What sound or noise do you love?
6. What sound or noise do you hate?
7. What is your favorite curse word?
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
9. What profession would you not like to do?
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

Answers:

1. Hope. Everything, Anything is possible if Hope exists in us.
2. Disappointed. As in "I'm disappointed in you." Fuck, just go ahead and cap my ass. I'd rather be shot than be told I disappointed someone.
3. Lush, long, dark, curly hair (on dudes). Confidence.
4. Smelly armpits. Arrogance.
5. Hummingbirds in flight. One got so close to me one time his tiny wings sounded like a Blackhawk helicopter. It was badass!
6. Sirens. Well, I suppose if I were waiting on an ambulance it would be music to my ears when I finally heard that sound, but otherwise, UGH.
7. Are you fucking kidding me?
8. Sailboat racer.
9. Number cruncher. I'd go postal on Day 2 of the job.
10. "Girl, I've been waiting on you! Now git your fucking ass in here and let's party! And no, you don't have to listen to angels *yawn* playing harps all fucking day long, either. And just for shits and giggles, My own, of course, fundies and politicians get sent to Hell. Automatically. No appeals. One more thing. Remember all those pets you loved that ripped your heart out when they died? Guess what? They're right here. They've been waiting for you, purring and barking their asses off and chasing squirrels in between licking their privates. Enjoy eternity, you hear?"

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The photo "Pillars of Creation" above is one of my faves.

Now, I gotta know what your 10 are.

So tell me!

:)

Note: Soul

HOPE

2007-12-22T23:19:00.000-08:00

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

~~Emily Dickinson~~

Happy Holidays, my friends.

:)

Note: :)

REMEMBER....

2007-12-20T21:44:00.000-08:00

.....when I said a couple of days ago we were gonna do something different on Friday?

Well, we are.

We're gonna have

and we're gonna do it right.

Ain't gonna be here.

Nope.

Gonna be at Hillbilly's Place.

So click on the link and git your ass over there.

See ya there!

:)

Note: David Lee Roth

THE CLOWN

2007-12-18T09:40:00.000-08:00

Ah, yes, a clown story.

Now listen here.

I know "Clowns" and their *ahem* adventures have been the topic (in the comments) here on a semi-regular basis lately, but this story I'm about to tell you is the honest-to-gawd truth.

Ain't lying!

So there was this clown

that was goddamn hilarious!

OK, back up.

Gonna start from the beginning here, m'kay?

A couple of years ago, my daughter Sondi decided she was gonna hire one of those "balloon clowns"

for her son Max's 5th birthday party.

This is Max.

Yes, he IS my grandson. My little white grandson.

So anyhoo, she got out the Yellow Pages and searched for "Clowns."

Bingo!

Now for obvious reasons (as the story progresses) I'm making up a fake name for said Clown, 'cause, well, when peeps Google his "real" Clown name, well, you'll see.

So she called "Crown The Clown" on the phone and hired his ass, right?

She then rented the park in Lakeway for the afternoon for Max's B-party.

Ohgawd!

I'm sorry, every time I think of this I just BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAAA!

OK, I'm composed now.

So B-day arrives and we all haul ass to the park. Sondi had catered Q for the party and dozens of HEAPING platters of Q and sides were set out,
"Happy Birthday Max" banners were hung, and parents & their kiddos started arriving.

Now my daughter knows how to throw parties. Always mindful that the ADULTS might not want to drink those disgusting fruit drinks in those little cardboard boxes, Sondi makes sure there are CASES & CASES of ice cold ADULT beverages available.

Official begin the party time was 2 p.m.

2:15 p.m......

Sondi: "Where the fuck is that clown I hired?"

2:30 p.m......

Sondi on her cell phone: "Where the fuck are you at? You better get your ass here and do it quick, too!"

2:32 p.m.....

Crown The Clown arrives in his brightly colored van, honking that horn like crazy.

Sondi: "'Bout fucking time."

So I'm over, I don't know, somewhere in the vicinity, and I see Crown The Clown climb outta his van.

Sure enough, he's dressed like a clown is supposed to be.

Except

He has one of these

purple bags hooked onto his belt.

Ain't lying!

Me: "OMG."

Sondi didn't notice. At first.

BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA

Sondi: "Hey, kids, gather around now. The clown FINALLY got his ass here. Let's go. Move!"

So this group of little kids, about 40 of 'em, gathered in a sorta line in front of Crown The Clown.

The parents were milling about.

Crown The Clown reached over and hit the "Play" button on his boom box and gangsta rap starts booming.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAA!

You gotta remember something here, folks. These little kids all knew each other from a private, VERY EXPENSIVE pre-school.

Sondi: "Are you shitting me?"

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!"

Crown The Clown: "Where's the birthday b.., is it a birthday boy or a birthday girl?"

Sondi: "I swear to gawd, I'm gonna kill that fucking clown."

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Max: "I'm the birthday boy. I'm a boy!"

Crown The Clown: "Well, come on up here to the front, you little buckaroo."

Max: "Mama, what's a buckaroo?"

Sondi: "It's what that clown's gonna WISH he was in about another minute."

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Crown The Clown: "I'm gonna make you a birthday present. I'm gonna make you some neat things outta balloons. Do you think you'll like that, little buckaroo?"

Max: "Yeah!"

10 INTERMINABLE minutes later....

Max: "What is that?"

Crown The Clown: "It's a little dog. Can't you tell?"

Max: "Not really."

Me: "BWAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Crown The Clown: "I know how to make more animals. Wanna see?"

Max: "Sure."

A lifetime later......

Sondi: "Mama, can you tell what that fucker is doing?"

Me: "BWAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA!"

Crown The Clown: "OK, little children, listen up now. While I'm making this mountain lion, we're gonna go over some safety rules, OK?"

40 Little Children: "YEAH! Safety rules."

Sondi: "JeesusH! Safety fucking rules???"

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Crown The Clown: "Now, when you're playing around your house, and you find a used needle laying around, what do you do?"

40 Little Children:

80 Parents:

Sondi: "WTF?????"

Me: "BWAHAHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

Crown The Clown: "You NEVER EVER pick it up. You go get your big sister and have HER pick it up. Can you remember that?"

40 Little Children:

80 Parents:

Sondi: "You're gonna die, clown."

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Crown The Clown: "Here's another very, very important safety rule. When you see your daddy's, or you mama's boyfriend's, or your mama's switchblade on the floor, what do you do?"

40 Little Children:

80 Parents:

Sondi: "Mama, give me your revolver. Now. I'm fixing to cap a clown."

Me: "BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Sondi: "OK, kids. Who wants some birthday cake?"

40 Little Children: "I DO! I DO!"

80 Parents: "WE DO! WE DO!"

Crown The Clown: "We have one more safety rule to discuss."

Sondi: "Do you want to live to see tomorrow?"

Crown The Clown: "Yes, Ma'am."

Sondi: "Then git. Make tracks and do it NOW!"

Me: "BWAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

Me: "I want Crown The Clown at my next birthday party."

Sondi: "You would."

You know, I do have a birthday coming up in March.....

Crown The Clown!

:)

Oh, that reminds me.

We're gonna do something different on Friday.

Be sure & check in early and find out what, OK?

It's gonna be fun.

I promise!

:)

Note: Send 'em in, baby

AFTER GRUMPY

2007-12-18T05:16:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning all

and shit.

I walked over to my coffeemaker and immediately got all

again.

There's no coffee anywhere in this house.

So I'm heading to Drippin' as soon as the market opens and when I get back

WITH COFFEE

I'm gonna be all

again.

Good, yes?

:)

Note: Willie & Ray

A CASE OF THE MONDAYS

2007-12-17T06:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, I have a case of the "Mondays" today.

A bad one, too.

So guess which one I am? And if you say

Snow White, you're gonna seriously annoy me.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Seriously.

Today, Granny is

What? Don't you ever?

Let's just say, I completely understand

Questions?

Note: Chrissie

FEAR IS NOT AN OPTION

2007-12-16T10:52:00.000-08:00

Those wily Japanese have done it again.

That's right, baby.

They've created something they claim has never been done before.

Wanna know what it is?

Oh, come on. You know you're just dying to know.

And if you're not?

Fuck it, I'm gonna tell you anyway.

Are you ready?

Japanese scientists have created a

genetically modified (DUH) mouse that is not afraid of a cat.

"Researchers at Tokyo University managed to turn off the receptors in a mouse's brain that react to the scent of its main predator.

They wanted to prove that fear is genetically programmed and not, as is commonly believed, the product of experience.

Instead of scurrying away or playing dead, the GM rodents were able to carry on as usual when coming face-to-face with a cat."

Yep, the Japanese scientists are BRAGGING that they've created a mouse that's not afraid of a cat.

You know, of course, that it's all bullshit, yes?

Hell, we all know a mouse that's NEVER been afraid of a cat.

As a matter of fact, the mouse in question takes great pleasure in tormenting the cat.

And he always, but always, bests that cat.

The Japanese can kiss my ass.

'Cause we've got

:)

Oh yeah, one more thing.....

The Polka Dot Puss

:)

Note: Put me in, Coach!

FINDING PAM PART 3

2007-12-15T04:39:00.000-08:00

"PENIS ENVY"

This is Part 3 of our 3-part series on Finding Pam.

As you know, Pam is my friend, and I want you to get to know her and to enjoy her fine writing.

And while you're reading her posts, remember we need to help her pick a new blog name for her upcoming blog.

So let's *ahem* get down to "Penis Envy", OK?

Ladies & Dudes, I present Pam!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Now.

Sigmund Freud, in all of his Phallocentric glory, theorized that all little girls secretly desired to have a penis. While I cannot specifically remember even knowing about the existence of penises (or would that be peni?) until my little brother was born when I was almost 6 years old, I can, as a grown woman, relate to the concept of penis envy. There are specific times where I must admit that having a penis would be handy. Now, get your mind out of the gutter. I am speaking of the ability to pee standing up, especially when miles away from facilities or in a particularly nasty public restroom.

I think most women can relate to the following scenario: Imagine you are in a bar listening to a really great band. You've had a few beers or, in my case, sloe gin fizzes. Your bladder starts to feel full, so you make your way to the "women's restroom" at the back of the club. One of the stalls has a backed up toilet that people have obviously continued to use. It is now overflowing with toilet paper and human waste. You try not to barf (as someone seems to have done that already too) and move to the only other stall in the restroom. Some kind woman has left a splattering of pee all over the seat. You have several choices: (a) you can hover over the seat and hope that your thighs don't give out and your naked skin doesn't come in contact with any numbers of germs living in that alien pee on the toilet seat; (b) you can wipe the toilet seat with a piece of toilet paper, knowing damn well that the germs are still there and there is no soap in this poor excuse for a restroom; or (c) you can stop drinking and hold it until you get home hours later (but what fun is that?). None of these choices is particularly pleasant, but a loud bladder must be answered. You hover and hope that your high school health teacher was correct when she said that you really can't get an STD from a toilet seat.

But wait - what if there was a fourth option? What if you could pee standing up?? Ladies, did you know that you can buy a product that basically serves as a detachable penis (any King Missle fans in the house?) that can be used to pee without your nether regions coming anywhere near the nasty toilet seat?

Meet the TravelMate :

Product description:

TravelMate™ non-invasive urinary devices enable females to pee through the fly of their clothes while standing, or by attaching our medical-grade thermoplastic elastomer tubing and collection bag, answer the call of nature while seated in a car, boat, or small aircraft.

Each 1-inch x 6-inch soft plastic TravelMate is environmentally responsible— meaning that it can be washed and reused hundreds of times. Furthermore, in most cases the TravelMate wipes off residual urine (no need for toilet paper) making the product ideal to bring along when well-maintained restrooms are scarce.

Staff writer Kimberly Wong, writing for Health magazine summed up her experience with the award-winning TravelMate: "A perfect companion for any trip outdoors— not to mention the times you come across suspicious-looking toilet seats."

Storage is simple— after a quick wash under the faucet or after using one of our mini sanitizing sprayers, slip the device into one of our denim or tapestry carrying cases. It easily fits in your purse or the front pocket of a standard pair of jeans and uses less storage space than a pair of sunglasses.

If the travelmate isn't doing it for you, you can always try the Whizzy,

which proudly encourages women to "take a stand"! The whizzy also comes in two lengths, "the longer original Whizzy, and the compact travel size Whizzy with easy-grip handles."

If you are not wanting to put something you just peed into back in your purse, then there is a disposable option - The P-Mate

Instructions for the P-Mate:

The P-Mate is basically like a cardboard shoe with the toe cut off. You place the entrance of the 'shoe' directly under your urethra, between your legs, pee into the shoe and then make sure that the hole at the toe end is funnelling the urine out somewhere other than on your feet.
The P-Mate also boasts that it is "covered with a 4-leaf clover design as it is good luck to have one with you when you are in need."

But what if you are on a hot date with a really hunky guy

and you just don't want to risk the possible embarassment of him finding the portable penis in your purse? Well, never fear!! Tutorials also exist to teach women how to pee standing up without any type of phallus imitator at all. I will spare you the step-by-step instructions as those who are truly interested will, no doubt, just click on the hotlink.

Penis envy?? Bah - who needs 'em! I knew Freud was full of crap all along! But I still have one question - where the hell were the TravelMate, Whizzy and P-Mate when I was that girl in a bar with the nasty bathroom 15 or so years ago?

:) :) :)

:)

Note: Woman

FINDING PAM PART 2

2007-12-14T06:42:00.000-08:00

"BOOTY BITCH"

This is Part 2 of our 3-part series on Finding Pam.

As you know, Pam is my friend, and I want you to get to know her and to enjoy her fine writing.

And while you're reading her posts, remember we need to help her pick a new blog name for her upcoming blog.

So let's rock to "Booty Bitch", OK?

Ladies & Dudes, I present Pam!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Now.

Yes, this beautiful little angel is the one with the potty mouth

So, it seems that my youngest daughter's colorful language has some of you a bit curious, and at least a few of you rolling on the floor.

Just to clear things up, no I didn't teach her to say that particular phrase. We can thank the power of peer socialization for her expansive vocabulary. Other three-year-olds in her class have older siblings, and perhaps parents, who use such language around them (not that I ever would, mind you ;-)).

The descent into vulgarity began with Ainsley calling people "butt". Really, butt isn't such a bad word, so we mostly ignored it. Then "butt" became "buttcrack." I almost died (with laughter) the day she called Grandma a "buttcrack" on the phone. Good thing her enunciation wasn't that clear and Grandma didn't know what she said (until now, since I'm sure she'll read this sooner or later). Then "buttcrack" became her main "shock" word. After the peals of laughter the first few times she said it (despite my best attempts to maintain a straight face), it grew old very quickly.

You have to understand my younger daughter's personality. She is not a people pleasure. With my older daughter, when she said a "naughty word" we simply told her that wasn't a nice word and not to use it any more. And she didn't. If you tell my younger daughter not to do something, you have just guaranteed that she will do it - over and over and over again.

Then one day she came home and called her sister a "booty bitch". Here is how the exchange went:

Abby: Mooommmmmmmy.......Ainsley just called me a booty bitch!

Me: Wha....?????

Abby: A booty bitch, mom. A BOOTY BITCH!!

Me: I heard you honey, I'm just stunned. (stunned silence).

Me again: AINSLEY GRACE!!!! Where did you hear such a word??

Ainsley: From school. From Joey.... (lovesick look in her eyes).

Me: That is NOT a nice word. You do NOT call your sister, or anyone else, that name ever again!! Do you understand me, young lady??

Ainsley: YOU'RE a booty bitch, Mommy!!

And this is how it has gone every time. We have tired sending her to time-out when she says it (which usually earns a "buttcrack" or even an occasional "butthead"). We have tried ignoring it. We have talked with her teacher at school. We have talked to the other parents (apparently "booty BIOTCH" is pretty hot in some other households right now). But frankly, although it annoys the hell out of my husband, I'm not all that concerned about it. It's just a bad word. And not a really bad one at that. It only has the power we give it with our reactions to it. And we LOVE the preschool and would never leave over a few "buttcracks" or "booty bitches."

Perhaps it was my own childhood that has created this laissez-faire attitude with my three-year-old's potty mouth. I can distinctly remember the first time I dropped the F bomb in front of my parents. I was about 10, or maybe 12, years old. I had a splitting headache. Here is a vague recollection of what happened.

My Mother: Would you PLEASE pick up your shoes off the stairs?!?!?

Me: Leave me ALONE!! I have a f*cking headache!

My Mother: **stunned silence** (I think "oh shit!")

My Father: Looks up from his newspaper and says "Well, then take some f*cking aspirin!" (sorry for the * - just trying to limit the freaky google searches. The 'booty bitch' will draw enough of them).

So, there you have it. My older daughter prefers to express her negative feelings through whining, my younger one through cursing. I love her just the way she is. Potty mouth and all.

:) :) :)

:)

Note: Shake it, baby!

FINDING PAM

2007-12-13T08:22:00.000-08:00

Hola!

So today we're doing something I've been looking forward to for a very long time.

Today we begin a 3-part series of Pam posts.

Yes, we are!

I want you to get to know my friend Pam and to enjoy her fine writing.

And while you're reading her posts, remember we need to help her pick a new blog name for her upcoming blog.

So let's get busy, OK?

Ladies & Dudes, I present Pam!

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Now.

Dear Aunt Flo:

I think it's time that you find another place to go visit. I am done having babies.

Other people's Aunts come to visit every 28 days and stay for 3-5 days. You seem to come around every 21 days and then stay for 7-10 days. What is up with that? Are you trying to wear out your welcome?

Why must you bring horrible PMS and cramps with you when you come? Don't you get tired of lugging around that 5 extra pounds of water weight that you dump on me each month? And ZITS!! Zits AND wrinkles?!? I mean COME ON!! There ought be a law that says once a woman's first crow's foot appears, zits are no longer allowed on her face. I keep having flashbacks to 9th grade and all that Clearasil.

Why do you always show up at the most inconvenient times? Weddings. Reunions. Vacations. A planned day at the water park. Days when my "fat jeans" are dirty. You have a cruel sense of humor, Aunt Flo. You should find other amusements.

It appears you have an aversion to hormones and thus birth control pills will keep your visits short and predictable. But I have no other need for birth control pills, patches, rings, shots, etc. The co-pays on those things are around $40-60. I can think of a few other things I'd like to do with that money. Plus, a woman in her (late) 30s has a higher risk of blood clots and other nasty side effects when she takes hormones.

Your aversion to pregnant women and nursing babies is also well known. And I do appreciate the years I was nursing and/or pregnant that you mostly stayed away. But I am not going to have another baby just to get rid of you.

Take the hint lady and hit the road. Go visit some female who is praying for your arrival right about now. I am ready for menopause.

Love,
Pam

:) :) :)

Note: These Are Days

1 MINUTE UNTIL

2007-12-12T11:10:00.000-08:00

So some asshole with a heart the size of a ham (prolly) decided to rob a Dunkin' Donuts up in Elmwood Park, NJ.

15 minutes to Judge Wapner.....

Now he didn't have a weapon but he did jump over the counter and started taking $.

Mr. Dunkin' Donuts Worker wasn't having none of it, though.

According to the police, Mr. Dunkin' Donuts Worker grabbed the man's wrists while hitting him with the mug, which is used to hold tips.

10 minutes to Judge Wapner....

So you're saying, "Big fucking whoopie deal," yes?

Well.

6 minutes to Judge Wapner...

Mr. Dunkin' Donuts Worker admits he was less worried about the stolen cash than how he might look on the video-sharing site YouTube.

"What was going through my mind at that point was that the security tape is either going to show me run away and hide in the office or whack this guy in the head, so I just grabbed the cup and clocked the guy pretty hard."

3 minutes to Judge Wapner....

That's right, baby.

Mr. Dunkin' Donuts Worker IMMEDIATELY thought of the surveillance tape that was running in the store.

And how he was gonna look GOOD when it got posted on YouTube.

1 minute to Judge Wapner...

Oh yeah, one more thing.

Mr. Dunkin' Donuts Workers' name?

Time for Judge Wapner!

:)

Note: "Sheep Shagging" by my fave Scotsman, Billy Connelly

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT

2007-12-11T11:32:00.000-08:00

So I'm guessing that some of you already have some of these under your Christmas tree, yes?

And if I'm guessing correctly, they're presents for other peeps, yes?

I was gonna do a post about the most bizarre Christmas present I've ever gotten, but hell, who hasn't gotten a bizarre present?

So, instead, this post is gonna be about the "BEST" Christmas present I've ever given.

That's right, given.

So a few years ago my brother called me.

Bro: "What you doing?"

Me: "What do you want?"

Bro: "Ah, I was just thinking of a FINE Christmas gift you could give Mother & Daddy."

Me:

Bro: "I know you give 'em sorta nice stuff every once in a while, but you never give 'em what they really want."

Me:

Bro: "And I know what they really want. And I think that this year, you should give it to them."

Me:

Bro: "Wanna know what it is?"

Me: "You're gonna tell me whether I want to know or not."

Bro: "OK, this is what you need to give 'em."

Pause.

Bro: "PLEASE, I'm begging you, PLEASE wear a..."

"....just ONCE before they die. They're old, you know, and they could go at any moment."

Me: "Yeah, old people die."

Bro: "That's my point! Make 'em happy for once and wear a bra to Christmas dinner."

Me: "I'll THINK about it. NO PROMISES."

Bro: "Thank you, thank you, thank you! They're gonna die happy now."

Me: "Git off my phone, asshole."

Bro: "Love you, too! Bye!"

So I caved and went and bought a bra. Hadn't worn one in 15 years or so.

MoFo's are designed by men. IF they were designed by women, they might actually be comfortable, instead of a tortured underwired cup to push UP and out.

Anyhoo, Christmas morning making that long-ass drive to the armpit of Texas, Wichita Falls.....

Me: "WhoooHooo! Dairy Queen's open! Be right back."

Kids: "Mama?"

Me: "Be right back! Do NOT talk to any pervs, you hear me?"

5 minutes later.....

Kids: "Mama! Your titties are UP!"

Me: "Hush. I have a headache."

Sondi: "But, Mama, they're UP!"

Me: "I swear to gawd I am gonna beat some ass in a minute!"

Joe: "No you ain't. Mama, what made 'em go UP?"

Me: "JesusH!!! Would you 2 STFU? I have on a bra under my shirt."

Kids: "Nuh uh!"

Pause.

Kids: "Why?"

Me: "It's Mama's & Daddy's Christmas present."

Joe: "You giving Mima & Pipa a bra for Christmas?"

Sondi: "Are you, Mama?"

Me: "No, you little jerks! I'm WEARING one for them for Christmas."

Kids: "Oh."

Pause.

Sondi: "You gonna let 'em see you without your shirt on?"

Me: "OMFG!!! STFU!!"

OK, now I am NOT LYING HERE.

At my parents house.....

Mama opened the door & gave everybody the requisite hug AND the once-over.

Mama: "You kids go say Hi to Pipa. I need to talk to your mama."

Me: "Ohgawd...."

Mama: "YOU have on a bra."

Me: "Yep."

Mama: "THANK YOU!!!"

Pause.

Mama: "Hey, Glenn, your daughter's wearing a bra!"

From the kitchen....

Daddy: "Praise Jesus."

BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

You know the drill.

Your turn!

:)

Note: If you're old enough to remember this tune, well, you're OLD, like me....

THE AQUARIUM

2007-12-10T14:49:00.000-08:00

So how many of you like aquariums?

I dig 'em.

Fave, of course, is one of these bad boys.

Yep, nothing quite as beautiful as a salt water aquarium, yes?

Of course, a freshwater aquarium ain't bad, right?

All those community fish living la vida loca...

I love it!

Now.

THIS is my aquarium.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!

Look, I HATE cleaning an aquarium. Hate it, hate it, hate it!

I have a VERY good reason why I hate it, too.

So my son & his wife, The Beautiful Elena, gave me a magnificent aquarium and filled it with gorgeous freshwater fishies.

And it stayed gorgeous for quite a while, actually.

Then,

it got green.

So The Beautiful Elena came over to my house and said to me, "Now watch how I do this. I'm gonna prime this tube and drain the nasty water out and you can fill it back up with clean water, OK?"

I'm like, "No problemo."

So she grabbed that hose tube thingie, stuck one end in the aquarium and the other in her mouth, sucked in, and then immediately yanked that hose tube thingie outta her mouth and pointed it out the window, where the green water shot out.

Voila! The nasty water was gone.

I was a good girl and refilled the tank with fresh clear water and put the fishies back in there (they had been put in a bucket of water for safekeeping) and once again, I had a beautiful aquarium.

Which lasted until it turned green again.

But this time, I KNEW how to get that nasty ass green water out of there, so I did what The Beautiful Elena had shown me.

I put that hose tube thingie with one end in the aquarium and the other in my mouth.

I sucked.

'Cept I didn't manage to yank the hose tube thingie outta MY mouth as fast as I should.....

OMFG!!!

I got a fucking MOUTHFUL of that green disgusting water in my mouth.

Pftttttttttt!!!

I RAN to the bathroom, frantically brushed my teeth like 8 times, grabbed the bottle of Scope, swished like a MoFo, then said, "Fuck this swishing shit. GULP!"

Hell yes I swallowed some Scope. Wouldn't you?

While I was Scoping, I was eyeballing the bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide, too.

So later I was telling my boy about the incident and he, being the kind, warm, loving son that he is, said,

"I heard you can get flesh-eating bacteria from a dirty aquarium."

Hydrogen Peroxide!

It doesn't taste as bad when you swallow it as you might think.

:)

Note: Somewhere....

GRANNY WENT SHOPPING

2007-12-08T15:19:00.000-08:00

Oh, yes I did!

And I got 2 new things.

Can you guess what they are?

Today was a good day!

:)

Note: :)

SATURDAY BEAUTY

2007-12-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

You know, some of you are prolly enduring real winter.

Here in the Hill Country, well, we're not.

So a couple of days ago I walked outside with my camera and took some pixs of the flowers in my flower beds.

Yep, a couple of days ago.

Welcome to December.

Close-up of ^^^^^

Close-up of ^^^^^ This is my fave.

Someday, I'm gonna have one flower bed filled entirely with blue flowers.

Someday.

:)

Note: :)

KO'S BALLS

2007-12-06T23:49:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder what

look like?

Well, wonder no more.

After Keith's fucking MAGNIFICENT Special Comment Thursday night,

this I know.

These

are

KO's

balls.

Questions?

:)

Note: :)

SAVING ARLEN

2007-12-06T11:11:00.000-08:00

*shiver*

OK, so yesterday, Arlen The Worthless got his panties all tied up in a knot when Sen. Harry Reid called Arlen

Dubya's "Puppet."

Yeah, he did.

He took OFFENSE to being called The Puppet.

BooFuckingHoo

So today, once again, we're gonna do the Poll thingie....

Uh huh, we are.

:)

Opinion Polls & Market Research

One more thing.

Arlen annoys me. Seriously.

He really fucking annoys the caca right outta me.

OK, let's vote!

:)

Note: Desperado

THE LOCAL NEWS

2007-12-05T11:03:00.000-08:00

So this is my local Austin TV news.

Our very own lovely & sweet Margaret will verify that I am NOT lying.

OK, wait a minute.

First, you need to know that the sorta "OFFICIAL" logo for Austin is

"Keep Austin Weird."

Now, in keeping with the "Keep Austin Weird" theme, our local TV news stations do, well, just that.

They're very much a Hippie Dippie News thingie.

Oh sure, if it bleeds, it leads

but only for a minute or so.

Then it rolls over into traditional Austin news.

Which is 99% of the time either a local festival story OR some cute pet story.

Ain't lying.

That's just Austin.

So I was watching the news last night and right there, yes, right there in vibrant living color, I see the following story.

I'll link it up for you in a minute.

So I'm watching this and reading the graphics on the screen while the vid is rolling, and I SWEAR TO YOU, I damn near pissed my pants I was laughing so hard.

OK, Here's the link.

BE SURE & CLICK THE "ELECTRIC MENORAH AGLOW AT STATE CAPITOL AS HANUKKAH BEGINS" box thingie, then click on "Play All Checked."

For those of you who have dial-up or whatever, let me tell you what the graphics in the vid say, m'kay?

Ready?

Chanukah In The Hood

Ain't lying!

Chanukah In The Hood

So in the spirit of, well, the Hill spirit, let me just say

Shalom

'Sup

:)

Note: Texas Rocking Blues! (RIP, Stevie)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAM!

2007-12-04T11:45:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, my friend!

May your days be filled with

and

good

and your nights with

and

:)

Hey, Pam

always.

:)

Note: For my friend Pam. Yeah, baby!

A SHORT STORY - THE PERFECT SUNDAY AFTERNOON (FOR MEN)

2007-12-03T13:46:00.000-08:00

perfect

is this.

while

getting

a

Don't EVEN try

to deny.

:)

Note: Venus!

THE CHRISTMAS TREE

2007-12-02T13:55:00.000-08:00

So today, we're decorating the Christmas tree.

Hill-style, of course.

No. 1

Get that squished thing out of the box and wrestle it up on the stand.

No. 2

Self-explanatory....

No. 3

Haul out the giganto Tupperware thingies crammed full of Christmas tree decorations. IGNORE the layers of dirt on 'em.

Y'all just THOUGHT I was a Latina woman. NOT TRUE.

I live in the country and am just continually COVERED in several layers of dirt.

No. 4

Wrap the Christmas Tree skirt featuring a, um, not-well looking Santa, around the base of the tree.

No. 5

Spread out the Christmas tree limbs and fluff those puppies *UP*

No. 6

Add the STRANDS of LIGHTS.

Hate those regular Christmas tree lights that cover the entire tree, hence, flowing strands.

3 HOURS later....

Elvis has left the building!

Oh, yeah, outside looking in.

Don't be shy now.

I showed you mine.

Now show me yours!

Note: OK, double treat today. Classic Garou. First up, "Je Suis Le Meme."

Next, well, this one just blew me away. Garou. "When A Man Loves A Woman."

THE SATURDAY

2007-12-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHA!!!

:)

Note: Well, it IS Saturday, yes?

THE KNOCK

2007-11-30T13:56:00.000-08:00

ROTFLMFAO!!

:)

Note: Knocking, of course....

THE STUFF

2007-11-29T13:13:00.000-08:00

Check this out!

I want one of these Ewok Tree Houses.

I do.

Would that be Über Cool or what???

Get this. It's like a REAL house in there, with kitchen, bed, sofa, dining table, little office thingie, EVERYTHING you could possibly need

except

a bathroom.

That's right, a BATHROOM.

I COULD do that bathing in the river thingie IF I HAD TO, but bygawd, I do believe I hate doing my other bathroom "bidness" in the woods.

2 reasons.

Reason No. 1: Did that once on the drive from Wichita Falls to Port Arthur, TX, and somewhere along Alto, TX, where Patches

is from, (I don't really KNOW that Patches is from Alto, just seems like he might be) I simply HAD to pee....so I pulled over and trudged out into the woods, squatted down, did my bidness, got back in my car, and eventually made it home to Port Arthur.

Where when I got to use MY REAL BATHROOM, I found a fucking TICK in my belly button. Oh, yes, I did.

Reason No. 2: When I lived in Odessa, TX, and made that interminable drive from there to Wichita Falls to visit my parents, no matter how small the amount of water I drank BEFORE the trip, somewhere along that *cough* oasis of between Midland and wherever, the urge would get really strong to go.

Now, as Fade will tell ya, out in that desolate part of Tejas there is ne'er ONE TREE to hide behind while you piss. NOT ONE.

So I would tell my kids to TELL ME when a car was coming while I squatted right there on the shoulder sorta behind the car.

Kids: "Mama, car's coming!"

I'd jump up, yanking my pants up (not wanting to have passersby seeing me with my junk hanging out all over the place) and instantly,

Kids: "BWAAAAAHHAHAHAHAAAA! We was funning you, Mama."

Me: "You're both getting your asses whipped....WHEN I FINISH."

Kids: "Yeah, RIGHT, Mama...."

So after about 4 times, BTW, us females can cut out piss off in a nanosecond. I mean, we can SHUT IT OFF!

So anyway, after about 4 times of that BULLSHIT...

Kids: "Mama, car's coming!"

Me: "Yeah, RIGHT...."

Uh huh.

Mutherfucking 18-wheeler would SLOW DOWN and HONK at my ass.

Kids: "BWAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAAHA! We wasn't funning you, Mama."

Me: "You're both getting your asses whipped....AS SOON AS REGAIN MY DIGNITY!"

Kids: "Yeah, RIGHT....."

Vroom-vroom!

:)

Note: Convoy

RENAMING THE STREET

2007-11-28T07:21:00.000-08:00

Ah, yes, another day, another outrage....

Today, my friends, we are going to do something constructive around here...for a change.

We're gonna help the Whitewood, S.D. City Council rename a street.

Uh huh, we are.

See, up in Whitewood, population 800 give or take, a brouhaha is underway about the name of a street there.

Leading the charge is the Rev. David Baer, who is HIGHLY offended that one of the streets in Whitewood is named HOOKER St.

That's right, HOOKER St.

Nevermind that it's named after a Union general, General Joseph "Fighting Joe* Hooker.

HOOKER ANYTHING simply won't do. Well, they do, but you know....

So we're gonna offer our assistance to the Whitewood City Council.

We're gonna help 'em rename that pesky street.

Oh, YES WE ARE.

Now, I've taken the liberty of coming up with a couple of new street names.

Wait....

I'm not gonna be selfish about this.

I'm gonna enlist YOU in this effort.

So, here are the choices.

Vote and vote often. Just pretend you're in Texas or something...

And when the final results are in, I will PERSONALLY contact the Whitewood City Council with the results.

You KNOW I will, don't you?

HELL yes.

Anyhoo, let's rock!

Opinion Polls & Market Research

What???

:)

Note: Private, yes?

BALLS

2007-11-27T01:53:00.000-08:00

So I don't know about your part of the world, but here in the Hill Country, balls are everywhere!

That's right, baby,

BALLS.

BIG DANGLING BALLS!

Out there swinging in the breeze for all to see.

Not an ounce of shyness (or modesty) in 'em.

Well, see for yourself.

Now, lest you think ONE-SIZE-FITS-ALL, have I got a surprise for you!

Well, OK, One-Size DOES fit all, but trust me here, there's a SET OF BALLS out there to satisfy even the most picky of BALL OWNERS.

So let's take a tour of the, ummmm, OCCUPATIONAL BALLS, shall we?

We shall.

First *UP*

Wait. That doesn't work with this.

*Hanging low*

we have

1. ZZ Top (Sharp Dressed) Balls

2. Mandingo Balls

3. Hillbilly Balls

4. Bob The Builder's Been Hitting The Sauce Too Much Balls

5. Stop Drop Roll AND Call 911 Balls

6. White Pasty Dude Balls

7. Blow Balls

8. Survivalist Balls

9. Hunter Balls

10. Oo-La-La Festive Balls

11. Presidential (Hillary Rodham Clinton) Balls

*balls courtesy of bumpernuts*

Happy Ballin'!

:)

Note: Oh, please. This one is a no-brainer....

THE TURKEY

2007-11-26T14:59:00.000-08:00

Yes, I KNOW Turkey Day has come and gone, but this story just blew my socks off.

So get this.

This dude up in Minnesota....

Before we go there, lemme ask you something.

When you buy that turkey at your local grocery store, what size is it?

NORMAL peeps buy a 10-18 pounder.

Somewhere in that vicinity.

And after it thaws, you stick your hand up the turkey ass & pull out that whatever the hell that is, then you stuff it with dressing, then you pop that puppy in the oven, yes?

Well.

This dude up in Minnesota decided he was gonna one-up his sister and cook a REALLY big bird for T-Day.

He did.

Check this out.

That's an affirmative, baby.

A 72-POUND turkey.

"It exploded," exclaimed Rachel Portnoy, 17, after her father, Rich Portnoy, took his 72-pound dressed turkey out of the family's gourmet oven Thursday."

No shit.

BOOM!

Now is that just about the creepiest thing you've EVER seen or what???

That fucker's thighs are as BIG AS MINE!

Get that crap off the table and let's eat some

rice and beans, OK?

:)

Note: My MAN, Marc Broussard! Can he SING or what???

UGH

2007-11-25T19:32:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I pretty much feel like Ded Bob there....

Questions?

:(

Note: Mr. Right Now.

LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED YADA YADA

2007-11-24T15:21:00.000-08:00

So this ~~freak~~ dude up in Winnepeg, "Eh, 'Sup," got drunk and horny.

Now, from time to time, we've all been there, done that...

Well, OK, not THAT ^^^^^^

but he did.

Uh huh.

He sure as hell did.

So here's what happened.

Horny Drunk Dude broke into Garage A. Within minutes, he broke into Garage B (A's neighbor) where he stole a lawn mower, a mountain bike, a blanket and a stuffed toy dog. He then returned to Garage A, where the police found him 2 hours later passed out inside a boat. That's right, a boat.

If ONLY Horny Drunk Dude would have left it at burglarizing shit...

But, nooooooo, he just HAD to get his groove on.

"He was lying there with his genitalia exposed next to the stuffed dog," said Crown attorney John Peden. "While the police report doesn't describe it this way, the dog might be appropriately characterized as now being anatomically correct, as opposed to its condition before he removed it."

That's right, baby, he bored a hole in the stuffed dog. The story didn't specify WITH WHAT, but I'm betting his richard had fuzz on it.

In his defense, it WAS plush.

The saga continues.

Judge Charles Newcombe, who apparently was NOT amused, said the "unusual circumstances" of the incident justified an order that the man provide police with a DNA sample.

So let me get this straight.

They swabbed the stuffed dog's NOW anatomically-correct box for DNA.

Why, yes, they did.

Eh.

Now, in my attempt to NOT judge, I'm gonna make amends.

That's right, I am.

So, for all you ~~fucking pervs~~ "PLUSH" lovers, here is my gift to you.

Ah, yes, for those of you who want your hoo-hoo to smell divine while boinking, here is Hot Hugs Lion

the aromatherapy fuck. NOT LYING HERE...

And certainly we must not forget the ever-popular and enduring fundie fuck.

Ahhhhhh

:)

Note: :)

THE PERFECT SATURDAY

2007-11-23T21:38:00.000-08:00

I need more cowbell!

Note: The real deal.

THE TREAT JAR

2007-11-22T18:03:00.000-08:00

So my current sister-in-law is an extremely gracious and polite woman, and when she walked into my son's house today, she gave my daughter-in-law a beautiful glass thingie of some kind and she handed me a GORGEOUS ceramic cookie jar.

Wow!

I never, EVER, think of bringing a GIFT to the hostess, but hey, my sister in law has good manners, you know?

Anyhoo, it got me to thinking about my one & ONLY involvement with the PTA (is it still called that?) back when my daughter was like in the 3rd or 4th grade, something like that.

She became obsessed with me joining the PTA, just like every other Mommy in the entire elementary school.

So to get her to shut up, I did.

Now, in case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not exactly your typical PTA Mama. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I NEVER went to one of their meetings.

However

I did consent to participate in their annual money raise-a-thon thingie by contributing some stuff to their big 2-day sale.

And wouldn't you know it, they wanted HOMEMADE craft-y shit, too.

So I came up with this brilliant idea.

I had TONS of these

laying around and I decided it would be "DIFFERENT" if I did some sort of "DOG" decoration on the jars and then filled them with

which I did.

Now this is what I did. I painted a couple of DOGS on the jar, wrote the words "DOG TREATS" in big black letters on the jar, and then made a dough top thingie with one of those humongous Alpo dog biscuits stuck on it. I covered the dough top thingie with the Alpo dog biscuit in shellac. Made it rock ass hard.

THEN, I filled the jars with DOG TREATS.

Later, at the sale....

Those things were selling like hotcakes. I mean, they were FLYING off the table.

EVERYBODY loved 'em.

Except

This One Bitch.

She stomped up to my table and threw an EMPTY DOG TREAT jar down on my table.

This One Bitch: "I demand a refund."

Me: "OK. Did your dog not like the treats or something?"

This One Bitch: "My dog? What ARE you talking about?"

Me:

This One Bitch: "Let me tell me. I've bought many a homemade cookie at these events and yours were the WORST I've EVER tasted."

Me: "You know what? I'm gonna double your refund."

This One Bitch: "And why are you gonna do that?!?"

Me: "Cause I'm gonna be talking about your ass for years to come."

BWAAAAAAAA HAHAHHHAAAA HAHAHAA!

:)

Note: This is "DOC'S" pick. Hiya, Doc!

THE ASS STICKERS

2007-11-21T19:49:00.000-08:00

Surely you didn't think I was gonna write a sappy, cumbaya-type let's be thankful for what we have post for Turkey Day.

Did you?

Hell, no. You know me way better than that by now.

So here's the deal.

This post is about Ass Stickers.

No, not this kind.

This kind.

That's right. These bitches from hell right here.

Now you city folk may not know what a sticker is.

Let me tell ya. See those little pointed needle-looking spikes there?

Well, picture those puppies stuck in your skin. Your feet, your hands, your legs, your arms. Stickers are EVERYWHERE out in the country. You take a step OFF the manicured grass, you WILL BE walking in a sticker patch.

Now try to imagine said stickers stuck in your ass.

OK, here's what happened.

You men have this MARVELOUS thing called BOXERS you get to wear. We women have panties we wear.

So the other day right after my shower, I was reaching for my cotton bikini panties to put on when I glanced over to where Hubby has his clean boxers.

And I thought, hmmmmmm.

Now why couldn't I just, you know, BORROW a pair for the day?

No reason that I could see, so I did.

OMFG!!!

The freedom is phenom! Nevermind that they BARELY hung on to my little ass, but that's not the point.

Here's the point.

So I'm like WoooooooHooooooo!!'ng around totally digging NOT having cotton bikini panties on and after running around outside for a bit (I don't have neighbors, so don't think I was out flashing anybody). After a bit, I came back inside and walked over to my desk, sat down and clicked on this page.

Yada, yada.

A few minutes later....

WHAT THE FUCK IS STICKING ME IN MY ASS CRACK?!?!???

So these BORROWED boxers are loose enough that I could just reach under and pull 'em to the side and look, you know?

So I did. And guess what I found right there in the BOXER ASS CRACK SEAM?

Why, yes, a fucking STICKER!

So I'm threading it outta the ass crack seam (pricked my finger, too) and finally worked that bitch out and tossed it in my ashtray on my desk.

And I settled back in for some quality time on the computer.

WHAT THE FUCK IS STICKING ME IN MY ASS CRACK?!?!??? AGAIN?!?!?

Repeated the pull to the side, yada yada thing, and sure enough, ANOTHER fucking sticker in the ass crack seam.

At this point, I'm like, Oh.HELL.No.

Yanked those things off, put on MY proper underwear, and Googled Big Dog.

YES!!!

Women's BOXERS!!

Pink, too!

I dig pink.

Yes, those are my PINK Timberland HIKERS.

So the question remains.

How in the HELL did those stickers get in the ass crack seam of the boxers?

You know what?

I don't want to know.

Some things are just best left in the realm of The Great Unknown.

Oh, and btw

Happy Turkey Day!

:)

Note: THE best slow-dancing song EVER!! Am I right or am I right? :)

THE DAY BEFORE THE TURKEY

2007-11-20T20:37:00.000-08:00

You know, I was gonna do a post on 2 Texas legends, then changed my mind when I opened Blogger.

Instead, let's concentrate on our day AFTER Thanksgiving shopping for a bargain, yes?

Ah, yes, Black Friday.

The day when the unwashed masses descend upon the stores to raid & plunder and make off with the spoils.

Except....

when us SHOPPERS get a fuckin' like this.

Click on it.

Note the "WAS" price and the SALE PRICE.

Why, yes, this Horizon treadmill, sold at Sears, cost $598.97 BEFORE it *ahem* WENT ON SALE for $599.88.

Let me see if I get this straight.

I endure the alarm clock going off at 3 a.m., traffic jams FROM HELL, getting stomped, pushed, shoved, having things YANKED outta my hands by other shoppers, sore feet, hostile store clerks, famine, thirst so overwhelming I would gladly drink my own piss, and a possible stint in a Texas prison simply because I whip out my revolver and POINT it at some ASSHOLE who STOLE my parking spot, all so I can pay 91¢ MORE than if I went shopping for a Horizon treadmill the day BEFORE Thanksgiving.

Do I have that right?

Why, yes, I do believe I do.

Oh, speaking of having something right....

SIZE DOES MATTER.

Just watch it, then come talk to me.

:)

Note: And now, for the best collaboration ever! Aerosmith & Run DMC - "Walk This Way" YEAH!

HOME OF THE CHAD (HANGING, THAT IS)...

2007-11-19T22:51:00.000-08:00

....Land of the Idiots.

What the hell is it with the peeps down in Florida?

Too much sunshine?

Too many Cuba Libras?

What????

Well, OK, if you lived in a state that looked like

I guess you might be ~~Bug.Fuck.Crazy~~ slightly daffy, too.

Well, not really.

Just cause you live in a state that looks like Gorbachev's Turismo does not grant you license to go seriously stupid.

Or maybe it does.

Who knows?

So here's the deal.

Residents of Baker County, Florida, were in a tizzy when they were CONVINCED an orangutan was on the loose and prowling the neighborhoods.

That's right.

An ORANGUTAN.

So in comes the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission to trap some orangutan ass.

Their bait?

Doughnuts at the base of the "ORANGUTAN" tree, of course.

Turns out, the ORANGUTAN was nothing more than a fox squirrel.

That's right.

A FOX SQUIRREL.

Which residents of Baker County had alternately described as an ORANGUTAN and/or a "BIG ORANGE BALL OF FUR."

Let's examine this issue a tad closer, shall we?

Orangutan

Fox Squirrel

Big Orange Ball of Fur

Why, yes, I can certainly understand the confusion.

Can't you?

Sunshine State, my ass.

:)

Note: "Losing Time"

A SHORT STORY - BIKE LOVE

2007-11-17T18:27:00.000-08:00

has been placed on

years

for

a

That's right.

For sexually

'g

a

The

was busted by 2 workers in his

room.

He was wearing a

and nothing else

while he was

the

The

workers were thusly

The

was also placed on the

Sex Offenders Registry for

years

so no other

in

need suffer the shame and degradation of being

by the

When asked for their reaction, the

of

replied,

"While we sympathize with the molested bicycle, we can say with glee,

'Better thee be shagged than we!'"

B-a-a-a-a-a-a

And now, a poem to celebrate love.

"The Chained Melody" by Hill

The cops kicked in the door
And what did they see
Why, me spilling my seed
In my lovely 10-speed.

Stroking the spoke
Diddling the sprocket
It felt a sight better
Than a hole in my pocket.

They ordered me to stop
They begged me to convert
Alas, now I'm just
A registered pervert.

Note: I dedicate this song to Bikeman and his Ride. "Sometimes When We Touch"

TWLE...

2007-11-17T13:23:00.000-08:00

...OR "How The British Are Nailing Diabetes"

So the British are light-years ahead of the rest of the world in treating diabetes.

Specifically, diabetic comas.

Here's what they've discovered.

If you have a seizure and lapse into a diabetic coma while riding a public bus, British 5-O is called.

Not sure if the British call 'em 5-O's or not.

Prolly not.

More like Arse-O's.

Anyhoo, the British Arse-O's are medically trained to deal with someone in a diabetic coma.

Not lying here.

You know what they do?

They taser your diabetic coma arse.

Not once.

TWICE.

Apparently, it shocks the sugars back to the normal range.

Well, you know how it is.

If you can STOP the heart by tasering and then maybe restart it with the 2nd tasering, voila!

Everything, including hypoglycemia, sorta automatically readjusts.

But here's the kicker.

The dude who was TASERED TWICE while in a diabetic coma was TASERED TWICE because, in addition to being in a diabetic coma, British police thought

Diabetic Coma dude looked EGYPTIAN.

That's right, baby.

TWLE.

Tasered While Looking Egyptian.

And you know what?

They were spot on, too!

Well, look for yourself.

I mean, the resemblance just makes you all shivery and shit, yes?

:)

Note: Drive

FALL IN THE HILL COUNTRY

2007-11-16T17:10:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Fall in the Hill Country.

Here is the ONLY tree The Beautiful Elena could find to photograph in this area that is fall-ish.

That's it.

You guys have a great Saturday, you hear?

:)

Note: Holding out for a Hero. :)

THINGS THAT SPEAK TO ME

2007-11-15T13:00:00.000-08:00

Woman's Speedometer

Oh yeah, baby!

These were sent to me by my friend, El Gothico Espagnol, the one, the only, the magnificently original Expat Goth.

Do yourself a HUGE favor, will ya? Stop in and say "Hola!" to him. And just to annoy him and cause him great anxiety, tell him Hill sent ya.

Be forewarned. He speaks that fancy English, you know, the kind they speak across The Big Pond.

He says things like "wankers" and "arse."

Oh, and he talks about his sex life a lot.

:)

Note: Bonnie!

THE 10

2007-11-14T14:45:00.000-08:00

"Relaxation" - photo courtesy of The Beautiful Elena

So Liberality tagged me.

Now before we get started here, you simply MUST click on the link and read her
NO. 3.

READ IT.

Then come back here and be totally bored outta your mind when you read the 10 things you didn't know about me.

BWAAAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!

OK, one more thing about Liberality's No. 3.

IF that had EVER happened to me, I would have been in the hospital for a week, IV fluids pumping into my veins. Dehydration, baby!!

No. 1: If I like you, I will go ANYWHERE with you and do ANYTHING with you. Qualifier: If you ask me to rob a 7-11 with you, I ain't going. Ditto on if you ask me to shoot meth or heroin in my veins. Ain't gonna happen. Besides, I wouldn't LIKE YOU in the first place if you did those things.

OK, back to the ANYWHERE/ANYTHING thingie.

The other day Hubby was bitching 'cause he wanted to go a strip club and his buds weren't "allowed" to go.

Me: "What do you mean they're not 'allowed' to go?"

Hubby: "Wife/Girlfriend won't let 'em."

Me: "OK. Hmmmmm. Then go by yourself."

Well.

I musta violated some kind of MAN RULE there. Apparently, MEN can't go to a strip club by themselves. It is a requirement that somebody go with them.

Hubby: "Are you outta your mind? By myself???"

Me: "OK, fine. I'll go with you."

Hubby: "What???"

Me: "I'll go with you."

Apparently, that also violated another MAN RULE.

MAN RULE: NEVER, but NEVER, take your WIFE with you to a strip club.

Hubby: "OMFG!! You want me to die, don't you?"

Me: "No. Why?"

Hubby: "You must want me to die of sheer humiliation."

Me: "How so?"

Hubby: "You just offered to go to a STRIP CLUB with me."

Me: "And?"

Hubby: "You know what? I just lost all desire to go. Wanna watch 'House Hunters' instead?"

ROTFLMAO!!!

Well, I would of gone, you know......

:)

No. 2: If you're a MAN, and you want to argue with me about BULLSHIT, I WILL go for your Achilles' Heel. Oh, yeah, I sure as hell will.

Here's the deal.

When I get pissed, it's INTENSELY pissed. Likewise, it's over with within minutes. Literally minutes.

I don't know what it is about dudes that they want to argue about shit that happened 40 YEARS AGO or some some crap.

I can't remember what I did LAST WEEK and dudes expect me to remember some minor-ass BULLSHIT from EONS AGO? Ain't gonna happen.

I ALWAYS give fair warning.

Me: "Enough. Back off. Now."

Man: "Wah, wah, wahahaa, wah, wah."

Me: "You're fixing to go down for the count. Trust me on this. Now back off!"

Man: 'Wah, wah, wahah, wah wah."

Me: "OK, I don't want to hear no crying now, are you listening to me?"

Man: "Wah, wahwhahaha, waaaaahh."

Me: "Your DICK SUCKS ASS!!! I've been FAKING IT!"

Man:

Whether it sucks ass or I've been faking it or not is NOT THE POINT. It's USUALLY a blatant lie on my part. The point is that is a SUREFIRE stop'em-in-their-tracks and "THERE'S NOT ONE DAMN THING YOU CAN SAY NOW? CAN YOU BITCH?" argument stopper. Do white women do that or is that just a Latina woman thingie?

:)

No. 3: When I was in my 30's, I had a 21-year-old BOY TOY. Sorry. I did. WELL??? Look, he was a GORGEOUS blonde California surfer reporter dude and he followed me around like a lovesick puppy. So tell me you WOULDN'T have enjoyed that!!! Go ahead, tell me and I will call you a big fat liar!

:)

No. 4: Every April 17 I grieve for my most loved of all my pets, my beloved Maltese, Chelsea.

She died on April 17, 2003, at the age of 14. She had been my shadow since she was 6 weeks old.

Grover here (much to my daughter's consternation as Grover was HER stuffed animal) became the object of Chelsea's ~~horniness~~ affection.

Chelsea molested Grover into deformity. No chin, flat legs. True love is blind, yes?

:)

No. 5: I think my grandson Holden has THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES IN THE WORLD.

While my grandson, Alex (yes, he of the "Buns Of Steel" fame) is, without a doubt, one of THE MOST HILARIOUS AND GOOD-NATURED KIDS IN THE WORLD!

No. 6: The summer she was 17, Angie, my daughter's best friend in high school, stayed with us a couple of weeks.

I made her date show me his driver's license, which I promptly copied and faxed to my brother, the cop.

Look, I didn't know HER DATE and he was A MAN, not a boy.

Angie's Date: "So nice to meet you. I've heard lots of good things about you."

Me: "Yeah. Lemme see your driver's license."

Angie's Date: "Beg your pardon?"

Me: "License. If you want to go out with her, Hand.Me.Your.Driver's.License.Now."

Angie's Date: "Yes, Ma'am."

Well, OK, THIS is Angie.

Uh huh. That's what I thought.

:)

No. 7: I slit a mouse's throat, ear to little bitty ear, with a pocket knife.

Well, that little fucker had the NERVE to run over my baby son's chest when he was 6 weeks old and laying in bed beside me taking his morning nap.

The instant I saw it, I slapped that bitch so hard it hit the wall opposite the bed and promptly fell to the ground, stunned to all get out.

I calmly got up, reached over for my pocket knife that was on the bed stand, opened it, knelt down on the floor beside that prone little fucker, lifted his head back, stuck the tip in, and slice! No quarter. No mercy. No regrets.

No. 8: I sold Hubby No. 2's prized Flintlock "Kentucky" pistol for $50. It was valued at over $3,000. I sold it at the pawn shop. No, I didn't pawn it. I SOLD IT. He kept spending his ENTIRE paychecks on truck stop cuties and blue & clear's. My paycheck barely covered the rent. And I needed FOOD in the house. He cried like a little girl when I told him his pistol went bye-bye. He drove like a maniac to the Pawn Shop. They said they'd SELL IT BACK to him. For $3,000.

:)

No. 9: When I was 17, I played Bach's Prelude No. 1, Chopin's Waltz No. 1, Chopin's Prelude in C Minor, Chopin's Prelude in A, E. McDowell's "Shadow Dance," H. Grunn's "Tis Raining", Mozart's Sonata III, Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumblebee", and Brahms Waltz in A Flat. All by memory. All at the National Piano Playing Auditions. This is what is written on my certificate: "Much talent! You must continue study in college. Excellent sense of interpretation - feeling and color - warm rich tone. Dramatic sense and excellent style. All the qualifications for becoming a fine pianist."

:)

No. 10: This is my most prized possession.

It measures 30 x 22 inches, and was done by my daughter Sondi when she was 20. She won First Place in the National Crayola Big Kid Coloring Contest with Jimi here. It is done ENTIRELY in crayons. Her prize? A trip for 2 to New York City for 1 week. She took her brother.

:)

So that's my 10.

You know the drill.

Yours, please!

:)

Note: "Flight of the Bumble Bee"

THE NUT

2007-11-13T01:43:00.000-08:00

So this dude up in Southworth, Washington, had been repairing a Lincoln Continental for 2 weeks.

He would of been finished but for one very stubborn lug nut on the right rear wheel.

That bitch just would not turn loose.

Voice inside Dude's head: "Say, I know how to do it."

Dude: "Tell."

Voice inside Dude's head: "Blast it, baby."

Dude: "Huh?"

Voice inside Dude's head: "You heard me. Blast that fucker."

Dude: "With what?"

Voice inside Dude's head: "Your 12-gauge, silly."

Dude: "Fucking-A! Why didn't I think of that?"

So Dude did.

That's right.

He took his

and shot the stubborn lug nut.

From ARM'S LENGTH.

Of course, buckshot and "debris" peppered him as high up as his CHIN.

Jacked his legs, too.

He "wasn't intoxicated," the police said.

Well, thankgawd for that!

If he'd of been "intoxicated," he might of, oh, I don't know, maybe done something stupid.

Or something.

:)

Note: I loved this song back in the day. Taylor Dane - "I'll Always Love You"

THE "YOU'RE SHITTING ME, RIGHT?"

2007-11-12T15:00:00.000-08:00

So this may be the ~~most arfy~~ shortest post ever here at Hill Country.

Click on the pix.

Let your eyes roam over to the red bottle on the right.

'Nuff said.

OK, not quite.

One more thing.

*arf*

Actually, that sounds rather dainty and ladylike.

Let's try it again, shall we?

*projectile hurl!*

:)

Note: Gloria!

THE DEPARTURE

2007-11-11T16:42:00.000-08:00

So today I'm gonna do something just a little bit different around here.

Well, you'll see.

Do any of you know who this man is?
His name is Henry Maske.

I'm not a big boxing fan, but Maske's story is compelling and strangely beautiful, and I find myself drawn to it.

Maske was an East German, and was a five-time boxing champion of East Germany. He also won the gold medals at the 1988 Summer Olympics and the 1989 World Amateur Boxing Championships in Moscow and the silver medal at the 1986 World Amateur Boxing Championships in Reno.

When the Berlin Wall came down, Maske turned professional, and became world title holder (IBF) in the light heavyweight category, defending his title eleven times between 1993 and 1996.

In November, 1996, Maske fought his last bout against the American champion Virgil Hill. It was to be his final, glorious goodbye before retirement summoned him.

As Maske entered the arena one last time, Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman began singing this song, rewritten for him.

The arena, packed to capacity, exploded in thunderous applause.

Maske boxed.

He lost, on points, his final fight.

:)

THE BAKA

2007-11-10T19:27:00.000-08:00

So this asshole up in Connecticut (where Dubya is REALLY from) got like super drunk.

And the beer started talking to him.

It said, "Go ahead. You know you want to. Be a real man. Just do it."

He did.

What did he do?

Why, he called 911, YES, THE POLICE/FIRE EMERGENCY 911, and demanded they send over more

He didn't call once.

He didn't call twice.

He called, according to the article, "several" AND "numerous" times.

5-0 arrested him at his house.

After which, they transported his drunk ass to the hospital.

"Police did not say what he was treated for."

Baka.

He was treated for chronic and severe Baka.

:)

Addendum: Hubby asked me what I was writing about and I synopsis-ed this story for him.

Hubby: "You know the song you have to use with it, right?"

Me: "Not really."

Hubby: "Get Down Brown's. Last Call."

Me: "OMFG!! I had forgotten about that!"

So back in the old days, the really, really old days, Hubby (pre-Hubby) and I used to go to this bar in Port Arthur called "Get Down Brown's." 2 things were a guarandamntee there.

1. You were gonna have a great time.

2. You were gonna stand up in the chairs or barstools during Last Call, raise your glass in the air and you WERE gonna sing this song. Yes, you and every other drunk in the place. Then you were gonna haul ass outta there BEFORE they turned the lights on and you went, "OMFG!!! You looked WAY better in the dark."

BWAAAAAAA HAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAA!!

Hola, Get Down Brown's!

OK, so here it is.

:)

ROMANCE & SEDUCTION

2007-11-09T19:03:00.000-08:00

I was watching TV yesterday and I saw something that just about made me drop my jaw on the floor.

I saw a commercial for Zales diamond necklaces & earrings for

are you ready?

For Veteran's Day.

I shit you not.

"Show her how much you love on this Veteran's Day. Give her diamonds by Zales."

I'm like, you have GOT to be kidding me.

So it got me to thinking about romance & seduction.

Well, it did.

And I realized how little I have in common with the "establishment" notion of romance. Or seduction.

This

means NADA to me. Zip. Zero. *yawn*

This, on the other hand

seduces me. I can plant it and smell the intoxicating fragrance of gardenias for years to come. THIS is romance.

This is not.

This is.

Take me here
and I'll spend the entire time fantasizing about being here.

Buy me this

and I'll sell it and buy myself this.

Show up dressed like this
I'll slam the door in your face.

But show up dressed like this
I'll invite you in.

Invite me to do this,
I'll say "No."

But invite me to do this with you,
I'm there.

This?
*arf*

This?
HELL, yes.

And this?

Anytime, baby!

Anytime at all.

:)

Note: OK, this is just the coolest thing ever!! Barry White & Luciano Pavarotti. Barry White? Now that's romance. And seduction.

WEEKEND PLANS

2007-11-08T20:16:00.000-08:00

I have such an exciting weekend planned.

OK, so here's what my weekend is gonna consist of.

1. Flu Shot

2. Haircut

That's it.

Oh, and I have to dust the cobwebs off my "Buns Of Steel" killer exercise tape and get busy.

Well, I did put my mountain bike up for the season and you know, don't want the junk hanging down to my knees, so "Buns Of Steel" time it is.

Speaking of, "Buns Of Steel" caused my oldest grandson, Alex, 14 now, incredible anguish and embarrassment when he was 13.

Here's what happened.

He was spending the week with Grandma and after playing outside all day long, he came in and asked if he could look for a movie to watch.

I'm like, yeah sure, you know where they are, go pick out one.

So he sat down in front of the DVD/tape cabinet thingie and started pulling 'em out, one by one, looking to see if anything sparked his interest.

One did.

Alex: "GRANDMA!!"

Me: "What?"

Alex: "Grandma, THIS!"

Me: "Yeah. So?"

Alex: "Grandma, it's BUNS OF STEEL."

Me: "Yeah. So?"

Alex (face getting all red & shit): "GRANDMA!!!

Me: "What??"

Alex (ears getting red now): "Grandma, you have one of THOSE movies!"

At that instant, it dawned on me what he THOUGHT I had.

Me: "BWAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAAA"

Me: "Hey, Alex, wanna watch it with me?"

Alex: "Gawd, Grandma, NO!!!"

Me: "Oh, come on, boy, you might get a kick out of it."

Alex: "Grandma, NO!!"

I walked over & popped it in the DVD player. He had his hands covering his eyes.

Me: "Alex. Open your eyes."

Alex: "Grandma, NO!!"

Me: "Alex, open your eyes."

He did.

L-O-N-G pause.

Alex: "Grandma, that's an EXERCISE TAPE!"

Me: "Un huh. Wha'd you think it was?"

Alex: "Uh, I thought it was an exercise tape."

Yeah, right.

ROTFLMAO!!!

Buns Of Steel, baby!

So what are your weekend plans?

Tell me!

:)

Note: Hold on to those dreams, baby!

JOBS THAT SUCKED

2007-11-07T12:30:00.000-08:00

So I was thinking about the worst job I've ever had, and you know what?

Cannot narrow it down to only one.

Nope, the honor of Worst. Job. Ever! is a twin.

That's right.

2 Worst. Jobs. Ever!

The first one was my first job. 16 years old, FORCED by my parents to spend my summer working at

camp.

That's right. Southern Baptist Camp.

Now lest you think it was one of those idyllic woodsy with streams yada yada camps, let me make this perfectly clear.

Camp was in the barren windswept plains of North Texas.

Primary vegetation?

Why, scrub brush, of course.

Us girl workers got paid $17.00 a week. The BOYS got paid, for doing the EXACT SAME WORK, $27.00 a week.

So here were our duties.

Wake up was at the obscene hour of 4 A.M. 4 AfuckingM. After woofing down breakfast, we had to get the dining hall ready for the hundreds of campers. Wipe down tables, sweep the floors, mop the floors, then on to the bathrooms for the disgusting job of scrubbing toilets, sinks & showers. Then back to the dining room (after washing our hands, of course) to begin serving breakfast to the campers. As soon as the last one finished eating, it was clean up time. Gather up MOUNTAINS of dirty dishes, utensils, pots and pans and wash them by hand. By the time we finished, it was time to begin preparing the dining hall for the lunch crowd. Repeat. By the time we finished that, it was on to the dorms & cabins to clean those bastards. Then back to the dining hall to repeat for supper. Finally, the day was done.

Well, not quite.

After the supper dishes were all done and the floors swept & mopped (again), then we had Flashlight Gestapo duty.

If there are ANY ex-Baptist campers reading this, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. For you non ex-Baptist campers, let me spell it out for you.

The Baptist adults were absolutely obsessed with the idea that 2 campers, be they boy and girl, boy and boy, or girl and girl, might sneak off after dark to "explore," shall we say.

So we workers were drafted into the Flashlight Gestapo.

Our weapon?

A flashlight, of course.

But not just ANY old flashlight.

No, sir, we were issued POLICE flashlights. You know the kind, BIG, HEAVY and putting out like 10 million candle power.

That's not all.

We actually had a "TRAINING CLASS" in the proper usage of our flashlights.

We were taught (required) to hold the POLICE flashlight UP on our shoulder (left or right, didn't matter which) and scan the bushes for amorous campers.

I SWEAR I'm NOT LYING.

Oh, and amidst all of this, from sunrise until EVERY SINGLE CAMPER was in their dorm or cabin and ACCOUNTED FOR TWICE at night, we were treated to piped in preaching & singing.

That's right. Loudspeakers were EVERYWHERE.

Jim Jones did not invent Jonestown.

Baptist church camp invented it.

So Hubby and I were discussing church camp one day.

Me: "HATED IT!"

Hubby: "LOVED IT!"

Me: "What? Are you insane?"

Hubby: "Where do you think I lost my cherry?"

Me: "Nuh uh!! Church camp??"

Hubby: "Damn straight."

Pause.

Hubby: "I was stealthy, too. The Flashlight Gestapo didn't catch me & whatshername."

Me: "What was her name?"

Hubby: "No idea, I never asked."

BWAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHHAAAA HAHAHAAAA

OK, so OTHER Worst Job

Yep, I worked for Orkin once.

No, not in the office typing orders & shit.

Nope. I was a "pest control technician."

Did you guys know that there are some really nasty dirty people out there in the world?

There are.

OMFG!!

You would not believe how they live.

So we'd get to the office in the mornings and get handed a list of people who wanted an estimate for their "pest problem."

Off we'd go.

Into (I'm pretty sure) one of Dante's rings.

Roaches. Roaches were the biggie.

The ABSOLUTE worst house I EVER saw I told the owners that when I sprayed it, they would HAVE to stay gone for at least 3 DAYS, because the dead roaches were gonna pile up, wall to wall, at least 2 ft deep in their house. And I wasn't lying, either.

OMFG!

So my friend Paula (a co-workers AND friend) and I came back the next day to spray. We used Malathion AND Diazinon.

So as soon as we started spraying the baseboards, THOUSANDS of roaches started climbing the walls making a beeline for the ceiling. The walls were literally shimmering with roaches. That's what roaches did. They'd get about half way across the ceiling when their nervous system would go "Fuck this shit" and they'd die.

Which meant they would tumble down ONTO you. Cause you were still spraying the next baseboard in the room. It took too much time to try to knock the dead roaches outta your hair, so you'd just vigorously shake your head. Roaches would fly.

Amidst all this, THE GROSSEST thing I EVER saw was when I saw those little fuckers crawling out of the STEAM HOLES in the iron. I SWEAR!! The fucking STEAM HOLES IN THE IRON.

By the time Paula and I were finished spraying that ~~fucking pigsty nightmare~~ house, there was already a good 5 INCHES of dead roaches covering every single floor, wall-to-wall, in that house.

I quit when I got back to the office.

:)

So, what was your Worst. Job. Ever.?

You can have more than one.

I certainly did.

:)

Note: "Missing You" - John Waite

THE WILLIAM TELL AND THE YEAR THAT SUCKED ASS

2007-11-06T18:34:00.000-08:00

So we're gonna start with The Year That Sucked Ass.

I know you've had 'em, too.

Mine was 1998.

January - Sondi told me she met the man of her dreams and was going to marry him. He was from California.

February - Sondi moved to California. We helped her pack her stuff.

March - Sondi married California Asshole.

April - Joe asked The Beautiful Elena to marry him. That year.

May - Sondi & California Asshole moved to Santa Fe, NM. And Joe & The Beautiful Elena began planning their wedding.

June - Sondi & California Asshole had a beach wedding ceremony in Cabo San Luca, Mexico. We all went down there for the wedding. Hubby & I got bumped on the flight back and had The Flight From Hell 2 days later.

June - One week after Cabo, the hotel where I worked as Sales & Marketing Director was sold to a group from, yes, FUCKING CALIFORNIA. Which promptly fired all of us managers.

July - In Galveston, Texas. 'Nuff said.

August - Tropical depression left us without electricity (AC) for 3 days. In August. In Galveston, Texas.

September - Joe & The Beautiful Elena got married. I decorated the Groom's Cake. Covered in exquisite chocolate flowers that I made. Which melted during the ceremony. Had a migraine from HELL. Hubby left the ATM card in the ATM machine AND went to the wedding with his FLY OPEN. Didn't notice it 'till we were dancing.

October - Landlady sold our house. Had to find a new rental.

November - Found the new rental, were in the process of moving. Hubby was taking FUCKING BREAKS and sitting down occasionally. DURING THE MOVE. Which was NOT done at our house.

November One Week Later - Hubby told me he THOUGHT he needed to go to the doctor because he THOUGHT he might have had a heart attack. Why, yes, he DID have a heart attack. Which was why he was taking FUCKING BREAKS during the move.

November Next Day - Hubby had Quadruple Bypass Surgery. Yes, open heart surgery. Rib spreaders, the whole bit.

December - Hubby got laid off from the hospital where he worked, WHILE HE WAS ON SICK LEAVE.

December - Christmas sucked.

December - My brother sent me an email telling me our Mother had died.

January, 1999

Wooooooooooo Hoooooooooooo!!!

I lived!!! I made it!!!

But never once did any of these events of 1998 even come close to
The William Tell Event.

So when my kids were little, there was ONE RULE at my house which was ABSOLUTE.

NO TATTLING.

Ever. For ANY reason. The one that tattled was the one that got a whipping.

I cannot stand a damn tattle-tale. Cannot abide 'em.

Needless to say, my kids did not tattle on each other.

So when Sondi was 7 and Joe was 3, we were living in an apartment complex that had hundreds of kids in 'em.

The kids were outside playing while I was fixing supper.

The front door flew open.

Sondi: "Mama. I'm NOT TATTLING, OK? I'm NOT TATTLING. You need to come outside."

Me: "What for?"

Sondi: "Mama, I'm NOT TATTLING but Joe has an apple on his head."

Me: "What ARE you talking about?"

Sondi: "Mama, you got to come see. Hurry, Mama."

As we're walking out the front door....

Me: "You better not be tattling."

Sondi: "I'm not, Mama. I swear I'm not."

As we rounded the corner going out to the "playground," there was my 3-year-old son, standing with his back up against the 10-foot wooden privacy fence, looking straight ahead, standing very still, with a FUCKING APPLE ON HIS HEAD.

At the same instant I saw him, I saw the 13-year-old boy standing about 30 feet away drawing back on his bow. As in BOW & ARROW. No, not a plastic tip arrow, a STEEL TIP ARROW.

I literally TACKLED William Tell. Literally. He went sprawling, his bow & arrow went sprawling and I went sprawling. ON TOP OF HIS ASS.

William Tell (hollering AND crying): "But I'm a good shot. I never miss."

Me (hollering and NOT crying): "I'm gonna kill you."

Joe (hollering): "Mama, it's OK. This is No. 3."

Me (hollering at William Tell): "Oh.My.Gawd!"

William Tell (hollering and STILL crying): "I told you I never miss."

OMFG!!!

Me (grabbing the bow & arrow and hollering at William Tell): "Git your ass up against that fence. I do miss."

Sondi AND Joe (hollering): "Mama, no, no, Mama. Don't do it, Mama."

I didn't shoot William Tell.

But I did make $100 selling his bow & arrow at my next garage sale.

:)

Note: "Forever In Love" - Kenny G

THE REALLY BAD DAY

2007-11-06T00:02:00.000-08:00

So before we get started on today's Bullshit by Hill, I want to show you 3 pixs, all taken by my daughter-in-law, The Beautiful Elena.

Yes, she took them all, including the last 2 (self-timer thingie on the camera).

So this first one is the firing up of a hot air balloon on Halloween night.

My son Joe & his gorgeous family.

My son Joe & his nerd family.

ROTFLMFAO!!!

OK, post time.

Now if you want to have some fun after reading this post today, try using The Dialectizer, with a h/t to voxd for showing the way.

Ready?

Let's rock!

So this dude up in Memphis, Tennessee, (Hola Hillbilly!) started his day off by crashing his car into a pole.

That pretty much sucks ass, yes?

It gets better. Well, it gets better for us laughing at his ignorant ass.

Car-crash-into-pole dude then goes to this house and proceeds to bang on the window.

No answer, so he kicked in the window.

And was promptly and without fanfare shot by the homeowner.

End of story?

OH. HELL. NO.

Somehow, he dropped his pants when he got shot (don't ask, the article didn't say), and proceeded to make his way, bleeding, of course, to a McDonald's, where he threw a rock through the front window.

He then ordered something to eat and was sitting in McDonald's enjoying his "Happy Meal" when the police arrived.

He was easy to identify.

He was the one dressed only in a shirt & undershorts.

With a bullet hole in him.

And a fucked up car down the road somewhere.

No word on whether the undershorts were briefs or boxers.

Note: Amy!