The Age Old Post

Nellie Olsen was a whore.

And really what can you expect with Nells being a homo.

Oh, You know you were all thinking it so don’t even.

Now why do I feel that I just crossed an imaginary line here? Oh well, as long as I’m here…

When I was younger, Charles Ingalls was my first crush. Until I fell in love with Scott Baio that is. Never did find out why he didn’t show up for the wedding.

Bastard.

But before all the jilted anger, plowing and farming in Walnut Grove was where it was at for me. Small town, five families (un-mafia related) who wore the same clothes every day and came to your rescue whenever you needed. You married old man Tucker at thirteen and lived happily ever after wearing lemon verbena perfume.

I didn’t go for the Walton Boy. Couldn’t get past the whole mole thing.

Back in the day, I would have traded today’s technology for Walnut Grove in a pre-antibiotic heartbeat. Well what the hell did I know?

I wonder if that show were to air fresh today, would it have the same affect on this generation as it had on ours. My hope is that it would but my reality antennas tell me that it would be flipped faster than a non-reality pancake.

I mean really. How could such quality T.V. possibly hold up to today’s display of….such wonderful shows as….um…like…you know the one where…..

Remember when we were awed by the special effects of the original Star Wars or Trek?

We were so easy.

There are some days when I still pine for Charles (Ingalls or In Charge). And will admit that if I do come across a re-run, I will slam the remote down in fierce decision and watch it like it just came out yesterday.

So you may now be able to guess my age by this post but you know what? I’m not worried.

‘Cause you’ll never guess my weight! They can’t right?.... Shut up, they’ll hear you!

Me and Bob Barker

So guess what?

The other day someone asked me for some blogging tips.

Can you imagine? Me?

Yeah, I know but still. I took this as a huge compliment and definitely considered not answering her email.

What advice could I possible offer? She wanted to know how she could make some extra money blogging (and as soon as someone can fill me in, I will be happy to pass that info along).

All I can do is put myself out there and hope someone likes what they see… enough to pay for it. I refuse to blog about cat litter boxes –even if they are paying a whopping $1.50 per post.

Selling my body wouldn’t go for much more but still, it’s the principle.

Anyway, I blog for love not war.

All’s I know is that if I ever did make money doing this so fun blog, I think my husband would drop of a heart attack…which would lead to a large life insurance settlement…which could in turn be considered making money from blogging…what? It could count. I’m only trying to help.

But instead of boring her to death with all that, I thought of writing her and responding the only way that I know how; by butchering a quote from a French philosopher:

I feel, therefore I blog.

Why did she ask me again?

Let’s see….I'll start at the beginning…..Type in Google….What is a blog?.....answer:

Your blog is whatever you want it to be- Got that straight from Blogger,btw

And blogs mean and are so many different things to so many different people.

Maybe I’m an authority on the minority? Or perhaps she senses the train wreck passion that I have for this blog and is inexplicably drawn to it. Maybe I was the only one with a legitimate email address.

But she did ask so in true can’t-ever-keep-my-mouth-shut fashion, I told her that I once read a blog about a blog who blogged about a blogger who blogge…ouch my head.

Anyway, she said ‘write good content and the rest will follow.’ She might have said more but that was all that I heard.

Well there you have it folks! Brown stained pearls of wisdom - our next item up for bid on the Blog is Right!

Betcha nobody asks me again.

What can I say?

You can’t polish a sneaker (-:

Hokey Pokey Anonymous

Now I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know squid pee about bat crap

but …letmetelyousomething nobody throws up all night and nobody wants to admit that they are wrong.

I have no problem admitting that I’m wrong. I just can’t stand admitting that someone else is right. My mood ring flies right off the color chart.

Speaking of my husband, if I have to admit he’s right one more time, I will need to invest in some fresh ammo stock. Maybe it’s just him. I am more you’re- right-friendly with my girlfriends.

Perhaps because they deserve it.

I mean this whole death do you part business is a little played out don’t ya think? How long can someone work this right-of-spouse crap anyway? That ceremony took place eons ago.

Let’s have a new ceremony!

It will be called, The I May Not Be Right But I’m Never Wrong ceremony.

Wanna come? You can all be my never-wrong bridesmaids! You put your right foot in… you put your right foot out….

What do you guys think? Should I wear white? Naw, blood stains would show up easy. How about red? Yeah, I know, kinda obnoxious. I know! Hows about A straight jacket!

I’m really not this psycho. Nope, just one glue stick short of a dunce cap. (Hey, who said that?!)

What’s wrong with revamping renewing our vows? I think it would be fun. Am I wrong?

All right, I’ll shut up.

My drug dealer doctor said there would be days like this.

To Have And To Hold Your Fire!

My husband simply worships me.

Come, let me introduce you to him.

“Whooohooo!!! Over here darling! Come say hello to my wonderful Blogger friends”.

Hang on a sec, he’s coming….Ah, here he is…

“Yes, my Cancer?”

“Come, my Acid Reflux. Meet my Blogger world. Isn’t it fun?”

“Most definitely, my Acid Eye drops”

Can you feel the love?

I’m just giddy with it!

“I thought you should see what I’ve been so busy with lately that I haven’t had much time to cook or clean up around here”

“Don’t worry my Spreading Bacteria, I understand. As long as you’re happy”

Isn’t he the sweetest??!!

Oh, and here comes the reason I live and breathe.

“Mom! Is dinner ready yet?”

“Not yet our reason for not stabbing each other. Soon. Now come and say hello to everyone”

“Uh…hello reason my mother needs to be surgically removed from her computer. How’s it going?”

My little precious pants.

Isn’t it nice to be able to share your hobby with your loved ones? I’m getting a warm and fuzzy sensation all over. Oh wait my husband wants to ask me something.

“Yes dear?”

“Can I go now my gaping wound?”

“Certainly, reason I self medicate. I’ll be done in a few.”

Oh eleven years of wedded bliss!

Wouldn’t trade them for the world! (-:

Beware of Extra Large Bee Nets

Here’s a story

Of a crazy lady

Who was hearing things inside her big fat head

She would try to shut them up

With wine and valium

But they got worse instead…

(Yup, Brady Bunch theme song…ding ding ding!)

You’ve met the voices in my head right?

I call them they for short. Well they have been working overtime lately. I don’t know if it’s a vitamin or sanity deficiency at this point. And I was pretty sure that booze would be the answer but they seem to only get louder with this type of encouragement.

At what point does a person willfully commit themselves? Or are the blog police watching me right now with their nets held high?

In addition to hearing voices, I have developed a lovely case of germaphobia. Proud?

No more shaking hands with people. I gave it up along with stiff stuff hair spray.

The mere thought of what those other people might have touched could have me hermetically sealed in the house for a week! So when I know that someone will want to shake my hand, I purposely fill my arms with things and give them the sorry I can’t shake my hands are full look (works every time).

And I now view door handles in a whole other light. And it aint pretty.

But I have come to embrace my….new outlook on sanity. I don’t harshly judge myself or anyone else who has fallen victim to twitchy odd habits or uncontrollable mental setbacks.

It’s the only way to live! Plus the medication wore off an hour ago.

If I call myself crazy, well then I must be sane enough to aptly diagnosis a problem which deems me reasonable beyond a shadow of a doubt (the voices told me to add that last part- they saw it on CSI).

The voices are actually kind of fun-until the other side of my brain gets a hold of them and beats them down to a respectable level. Boring ass bastards.

I admit it. I like when the voices act up. Makes life and blog a most interesting place indeed.

For example, I can’t get this image out of my head.

See? The other side would never have permitted such nonsense. But the voices LOVES them some ass dumb nonsense! (feel free to caption the cat)

This is an outrage! They must be screaming. Sorry, can’t hear you…voices remember?

Anyone else afflicted? Isn’t it fun? (before they take us away, I mean).

Cranberry Agita

Here we are, gorgeous crisp autumn air, a stunning tree lined visual at every turn filled with plum, umber, magenta and golden yellow leafs clinging to their branches, my favorite of all high holy days…Halloween is just around the corner and all I can see is…..

My cup frothing over with impending family drama which will begin on Thanksgiving Day and end…well does it ever end?

It will commence, as always, with friendly, amicable hellos and how are yous. It will progress into small groups of Scrabble and Monopoly (which may very well lead to physical and emotional violence) and will ultimately end in everyone’s favorite pastime…

The Blame Game. All players are in. All ages and in-law status welcome. Leading up to ten to twenty years of pent up grievances and animosity in the Final-Showcase-Showdown. It’s going to be a great show.

I am your host, Nelly Neutral. Now let’s meet our contestants:

Husband- Extremely hotheaded but more often than not…. rrrri…rrrrr….riiiii…right.

Damn that hurt.

Sister in laws- a.k.a. Thing one and Thing two or Hypocritical and Pious. Hi and Pi for short. (You know…like shut your Pi-hole Hi)- Older gang-up sisters to Husband - Oh…forgot, I was supposed to be neutral.

Yeah, sorry, I don’t look good in beige. Moving on….

Mother-in-law- Who will not stick her neck out for either party in order to keep the peace. F@^*!EN take a side damn it! Ours. There, that was neutral-like.

And let’s not forget the Innocent Children for without them this game would not be possible because we would have no reason on God’s green earth to gather in the same room voluntarily otherwise.

Is forty-five minutes of not really great turkey worth the all the bitter conversation trimmings that will echo in phone calls and emails haunting both sides for the rest of the year?

Is it worth watching both sides’ organs imploding into a non edible side dish?

To find out the answers to these questions and more, join us next time for a game of Family or Farce!

Can’t we just stop at Halloween? Trick or treating. Costumes. Scarring the crap out of little children – legitimately?

BTW, I have scheduled two Thanksgivings this year. Back to back. One to celebrate with family and one to erase what happened the day before.

Last year’s celebration taught me well my friend.

I’m sure that my son will not be scared much by the underlying tension. They don’t even notice half the time. Kids are awesomely resilient that way. Stop lying to yourself

Then we grow up. Then we hold grudges. Then we get heartburn. Then we take pills. Then we drink…well, I’ve reserved my mental health breakdown bed have you?

All in favor of shortening Thanksgiving dinners to a thirty-minute-meal in Bikini Bottom, say Aye Aye Captain!

I can’t hear you!

All opposed…well… Come on over and bring a bottle! You’re welcome at my house for the Holidays.

You’d fit right in (-:!