I Want To Bite Your Neck

My son has grown teeth! Eek! Run for the hills!

The Boy uncovered these "teeth" in a box of Halloween stuff, and insisted on wearing them to church yesterday!

And, by request (h/t Harvey): below is a representative picture of mormon undergarments. The only thing missing is the random masonic-like symbols above the breast and knee that are supposed to ward off icky-bad stuff . . .

I Smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Tammi is taking a trip down memory lane about pranks she pulled as a youngster. I was not a prankster. I got into enough trouble without pulling pranks.

I have said before that my sister and I were the only asian (albeit 1/2) kids in our neighborhood and the only ones on our school bus. This fact was cause for much taunting!

Here is the thing about childhood taunting, you either act on it or dwell on it. Those that dwell tend to grow into psychotic weirdos as adults and those that act tend to grow into well rounded individuals. I'm somewhere in the middle as an adult - but I was an actor.

There was a boy, let's call him Ray. He was new to our school and to our bus route. On his first day on our bus, he sat in my seat. Now, it was my seat because I had a problem on the bus. The section 8 kids that rode my bus would taunt me about my clothes being from Goodwill (cause my mama made them) and call me names (like they should have been calling anyone names) and I, being the actor that I am, would throw punches. That got me a permanent seat at the back of the bus, away from the Section 8 kids.

Ray sat in my seat. I politely told him it was my seat, he needed to move. He called me "Ching Chong Wing Wong" and stuck out his tongue. So, being ever so calm and collected, I told him he would get a free pass that day but if he ever called me names again - or sat in my seat again - he would answer to me. Well, Ray, not being the brightest bulb in the box, snickered at me and then sang "Ching Chong Wing Wong Bang A Gong, Ching Chong."

You see where this is going right? Well, poor Ray got a smack down. A serious beating. I was, as I have told you all before, a bully. Ray got a black eye and a bruised ego for his assinine behavior and I got my seat (though I couldn't sit in it for three days because I was kicked off the bus!)

This began, or rather added to, a theme for my life "Where Can Oddy Get Kicked Out Of Next."

Well, I think throughout junior high and highschool I was kicked off the bus about eight times. A few for fighting other kids, once for fighting with the bus driver, once for organizing a eat-in when we were strictly forbidden to eat on the bus (I even baked the cupcakes with the hot pink icing myself), and a few times for cussing and/or throwing things out the window.

In high school, I was temporarily (for a week) kicked out of my sex-ed class for talking about . . . wait for it . . . SEX!! Apparently I knew a little more than the instructor and she was embarrassed. Moving on . . .

I have been kicked out of every fast food joint in my home area. I was kicked out of Burger King for simulating that oh-so-memorable scene from When Harry Met Sally. I was kicked out of McDonalds for snapping all their straws. I was kicked out of Wendy's for insisting that they did not, in fact, make my burger my way since it was square and for the love of all that is holy, a burger should not be square. I was kicked out of Long John Silvers for screaming, "This Fish Is Made Of People!" I was asked to leave the premises of the Hot Dog Shoppe for trying to walk through the drive through, and I was asked to leave the pizza parlor for starting a tini-tiny food fight. I am sure there were others too.

Skipping backwards for a moment, as a wee-girl child, I was kicked out of my brownie troope for beating up the leader's daughter. Hey, she put toothpaste in my sleeping bag, she couldn't be allowed to live. My dad was summoned and I was asked never to return.

I was kicked out of Junior Achievement - though not my fault - because a kid brought a gun and threatened to shoot me, they asked us both to leave and never come back.

I was kicked out of a band I was in during High School because I thought, perhaps crack wasn't a wise choice of refreshments.

I was kicked out of my church youth group because the youth pastor thought Led Zep. was the devil's music and I insisted on wearing Led Zep. t-shirts to every event.

I was even kicked out of my home at 14 because I dared to question mama ( I moved back in a year later).

There have been many, many others. But my shining moment of "Kicked Out" glory was when I was kicked out of Mormon Indoctrination Classes.

Let me tell you! It is difficult to get away from those Mormon Missionaries and I got myself kicked out of class. They already didn't like me because I didn't observe the separation of the sexes, I intentionally touched the "brothers" hehehehehe-I made them unclean! Hehehehehehe.

It was during the third week of classes, we were discussing certain books of the Bible and how they differ from those in the Book of Mormon. Apparently, I asked one too many questions and I was told - no freaking lie! - that "perhaps it would be better if I left and returned when my faith was stronger." Ha! I was not mouth-agape gullible enough to get into the freakin Mormons!

All I really wanted was to wear that cool holy underwear anyway . . . But seriously, who gets kicked out of Mormon indoctrination classes?

I guess they really got miffed when they were talking about some ancient written language from the South American indians in which written accounts of Jesus walking there were preserved. Being a student of history, and third world cultures at the time, I knew no such "libraries" existed. When questioned, I was told they were destroyed in a fire (Ummm, that was Alexandria). But as the ancient indian cultures didn't have a written language, but rather wrote in glyphs, no such accounts really ever existed did they?

Like I said, I asked too many questions. I made those Mormon's squirm and they kicked me out of their class. A shining moment indeed.

I have grown though, really I have. I mean, in two weeks I'll be thirty. So I am an adult. But, I know, lurking somewhere in my thirty-year old body is yet another "Kicked Out" story waiting to happen. I just know it!

One Beautiful Woman

I had the immense pleasure of speaking with Richmond on the phone last night for nigh on an hour!

It surely didn't feel like almost an hour. The conversation flew by and I think we laughed nearly the whole time!

If you have never had a chance, engage this woman in conversation, you will not be sorry!

Memelicious

I just met Bloodspite and what does he do? He smacks me with a meme! He is trying to pull the wool over all your eyes. He doesn't want you all to think he's a sweetheart. So I am unsure of the directions and there is no title, so I will just answer the questions.

1: Black and White or Color; how do you prefer your movies?

I like black and whites or should I say classics. More modern movies are too formulaic for me and often boring.

2: What is the one single subject that bores you to near-death?

Celebrities. Oh, wait, do you mean a school subject? I liked them all.

3: MP3s, CDs, Tapes or Records: what is your favorite medium for prerecorded music?

Geez, I don't know how to answer this one especially since I play the radio. But I'd go with MP3s.

4: You are handed one first class trip plane ticket to anywhere in the world and ten million dollars cash. All of this is yours provided that you leave and not tell anyone where you are going ... ever. This includes family, friends, everyone. Would you take the money and ticket and run?

Nope. I couldn't live without my baby boy. The husband is expendable, but my son? No way.

5: Seriously, what do you consider the world's most pressing issue now?
Weight loss. Oh, wait, you didn't want my most pressing issue?

6: How would you rectify the world's most pressing issue?

Weight Watchers . . . oh, there I go again!

7: You are given the chance to go back and change one thing in your life; what would that be?

Law School. I would have done something that allowed me more time with my child.

8: You are given the chance to go back and change one event in world history, what would that be?

The election of Bill Clinton.

9: A night at the opera, or a night at the Grand Ole' Opry --Which do you choose?

The Opry! But only on a Brad Paisley or Dolly Parton or Alisson Krauss night. Otherwise, too crowded for me.

10: What is the one great unsolved crime of all time you'd like to solve?

Who stole my . . . Oh wait, I gave that away . . .

11: One famous author can come to dinner with you. Who would that be, and what would you serve for the meal?

Benjamin Franklin (He wrote his autobiography and the almanac). I'd serve chicken and dumplings, cause I love chicken and dumplings.

12: You discover that John Lennon was right, that there is no hell below us, and above us there is only sky -- what's the first immoral thing you might do to celebrate this fact?

Who said Heaven was "above us" and Hell was "below us" anyway? As for immoral, I'm a good girl. I don't do anything that could be considered immoral. *snicker*

Ok, I'm not passing this one on either, cause everyone I know already did it. So there *sticks tongue out*.

Seven Songs

I've been memed, again, by Richmond.

I am supposed to:

list seven songs I am into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

Ok, that sounds easy enough. I have an ecclectic mix of music I like to listen to so here goes:

A Living Prayer: Alison Krauss and Union Station - something about her voice charms me. I love that you can feel her emotion right through the song.

Good to Go: John Corbett (Ian on My Big Fat Greek Wedding) - surprisingly engaging tune. Plus, he is completely day-pass material even if a little scruffy these days.

If Six Was Nine: Jimi Hendrix - an all-time favorite of mine. I listen to it when I'm really pissed off - like today!

My Humps: The Black Eyed Peas - what can I say? I like to shake my ass.

The Hair soundtrack because I've loved it since I was a wee bebe, and because Treat Williams is also day-pass material.

Nobody Gonna Tell Me What To Do: Van Zant - cause it's .38 Special meets Lynyrd Skynyrd and because no one tells me what to do.

Folsom Prison Blues as done by the Reverand Horton Heat. Cause it makes me giggle. Also, because I love their stuff, especially "Eat Steak" and "F**ked Up Ford"

Oh, and to add some more, cause I never do anything I'm suppossed to do:

Someone to Watch Over Me: Ella Fitzgerald or I've Been Loving You- Otis Redding. It hits me at my core. I love this song. I started loving it back in 1993 when Susy Amis' character sings it in a southern blues joint in the movie Rich in Love. I love it still.

I'm not tagging anyone, I'm just gonna go listen to some Otis and think about what I might greet my hubby with tonight! *wink, wink*

I'm The MAP!

I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm the map, I'm (short pause) the Maaaap!

Sign my map.

Please.

Frostbitten But Fabulous

I made it safely through my first blogmeet. At first, I was worried that I would be "throwing myself to the wolves" so to speak. I didn't know these people. Hell, they could all be serial killers waiting for new, innocent prey like me! Instead, they were all just criminally insane (myself included) for braving single digit temperatures to howl at a starless sky with an accompanying chorus of canids.

I'm exhausted. The body used up all its energy trying to keep warm. But I arrived home with a satisfied soul.

It was my pleasure to meet the welcoming
Laughing Wolf. He was the brains behind the weekend's festivities and put together a wonderful event. Many thanks to the man behind the Howl. To the incredible staff at Wolf Park, thank you for your hospitality, for sharing your knowledge with us and for allowing us to enjoy a wonderful day with you.

Now, onto the festivities: Laughing Wolf started off on the right foot with me by calling to make sure I arrived safely (he is a sweet, sweet man!).

After the caring shown by LW, I called the sweet and caring Contagion, who immediately began hollering at me about driving too fast because I made it to Lafayette an hour faster than I had estimated. Problem was, Contagion was still on crazy central time. Ha! Shy my ass! Well, I decided to meet him anyway, even though he was an hour later than expected. *rolls eyes appropriately* He was ok, he had this thing about the bad touch . . . but all in all he was good people - oh and much nicer than he wants you all to think. His wife, Ktreva is a knockout. Fantastic woman, he is a lucky, lucky man. Ktreva is obviously the brains of the operation. *winks knowingly at Ktreva*

It was decided that dinner would be enjoyed together and I met with Contagion, Ktreva and Machelle in the lobby of our hotel. LW joined us and we had a lovely dinner.

Let me tell you! Machelle is very, very shy, however it is all a rouse. She is like a stealth bomber. She lies undercover, and at the appropriate time lets loose with rapid fire repartee putting the rest of us to shame. She takes it all in, processes and then, when least expected, she swoops in for the kill. I love this woman! She is great ammunition for dealing with Contagion *winks again*.

The "fun" began after dinner. On LW's directions, we hooligans piled into Machelle's (aka - Mario Andretti) rental in order to partake of additional merriment at LW's. The directions were fine, except LW didn't give us his address. We arrived at an unfamiliar corner and decided the time had come to ask LW's assistance. Upon calling Mr. LW, and describing our present location as "the corner of Juglans and De Vere" we were met with the response "I don't know where that is, turn around and . . . oh hell, I'll just cut on the porch light and see if I can see you." Like a chorus of angels an "AHHHHHHHHHH" rang out and lo, LW stood upon a porch mere yards from we stranded travelers.

People! He didn't know the name of his own street! However, all was quickly forgiven when we were granted entry into his abode, kept warm in anticipation of company. The evening was spent with talk of boyscouts, mormons, good scotch and firearms. Yes, the finer points of firearm ownership were discussed so as to give Machelle an idea of the addiction to which she was getting ready to succumb.

Oh, and LW, I'm so glad you took Flo out of her crate, she was a lovely addition to the party!

We were soon joined by the bulk of our party contingent. Where many hugs were passed out. The lovely and talented Tammi, Bloodspite-I'll sweep you off your feet with my southern manners - and the lovely but quiet Mrs. Bloodspite, as well as the exceedingly charming That1Guy. I knew at once that I loved these people.

I felt as if I had known Tammi forever, she is beautiful and she was so warm and welcoming. The only bad part? She and I have a very similar sense of humor, so it was probably dangerous to let us out in public together! I can't wait to get together with this wonderful woman again!

Bloodspite and his bride were also lovely. I couldn't get enough of Bloodspite's southern graciousness. I do believe he and his bride were chilled to the bone though. I missed out on hearing Bloodspite and T1G play their guitars, but am looking forward to getting together with them again.

That1Guy : what can I say? I did an appropriate bow as only Jeebus could command, and I followed him around like a good disciple. He's good people as he joined me in annoying Contagion and drinking beer. Good people I say.

For the record, I am sure that I'm staring a karmic bitch-slap of epic proportions in the face after all the pestering I put Contagion through.

I had the pleasure of meeting Harvey and TNT but I was disappointed that I didn't have more time to spend with them. I hope to meet them again soon.

I also had the pleasure of meeting Wes and his bride who were hilarious together and who are surely a target in T1G's quote book.

Jerry of Back Home Again joined us to partake of libations and it was good. I hope we didn't scare the poor fellow off!

The wolves, of course, were the stars of the show and they carried on their part with Oscar worthy performances. Especially Apollo and Chetan. They of course snickered at the pack of humans walking around wearing so many layers that we looked like individual piles of cast-off clothing to rival that of a swingers club!

Speaking of swingers clubs, as you will no-doubt read later at T1G's sight, we had some beavers, brokeback huggers, dueling loins, wet women and a cigar indian to complement the festivities. I will leave all of that up to your individual imaginations. Let me just tell you - the cherry-popping was a success! While I saw more of each individual's outerwear than their smiling faces, I still came away feeling as if I had known them all my life. I cannot wait to get together with them all again!

And lastly, if any of ya'll are passing my way, you are welcome anytime!

I'm a Virgin!

Really, I am! So, go easy on me. I'm sliding in to my first blog-meet. Yay! Whoo Hoo! I am very, very excited. I get to meet some of my favorite bloggers as well as freeze my ass off in the tundra that is Battle Ground Indiana!

I know, you are all envious. We can't all have pneumonia though. So I'm taking one for the team, so to speak.

Since I'm a poor-ass schmuck, I don't have a laptop, so I will blog about the meet when I return. Until then, keep yourself entertained with my Frapper map. Sign if you haven't! Yippee!

Wish me luck! I'm about to have my blog-meet-cherry popped!

Thursday Funny

Want a good laugh? Language is strong so listen with headphones!

YAAFM

h/t Caltechgirl!

P.S. If you haven't signed my frapper map, please do.

Add Yourself

To my Frapper map of course . . .

Pretty please? With Sugar on top?

Little Sister

Little Sister had surgery this morning to remove the tumors in her uterus. They had shrunk to a size that was both manageable and removeable, but with all the stress she was under, she had begun to bleed a lot.

So, this morning she had surgery. Hopefully, she will be fine, and will not need a hysterectomy ever. So far, it has been difficult for her, but she is managing well.

Thank you all for your good thoughts and well wishes.

Valentine's Day

Anyone ever wonder why a bloody massacre took place on St. Valentine's Day?

All the gushiness and chocolate adrenaline makes me want to hurt people. . .

Happy Valentine's Day.

Question for the Day

It is February, so why isn't there a department store in the land selling sweaters? My hunt for a new sweater revealed that Target, Walmart, and even the Mall were selling tanktops and t-shirts now. It's 20 degrees out!

Dang it all!

A Memorable Story

I noticed a number of bloggers mentioning fine memories this week. It got me thinking quite a bit. As it is down-right frigid here, I have been thinking of the beach.

It was the summer of my 14th year. That was the age when I started to look 18, even without makeup, and let people believe I was. I should stop here and explain, I was not a typical 14 year old. I didn't look 14 nor did I act 14. I had been taking advanced college classes for a couple years, and I had never had friends my own age. My boyfriend at the time was a senior in highschool - but that is a story for another day. . .

My family, for years, had traveled during the summer months to Assateague Island, Maryland to camp. It was on such a trip that I met "him".

He was a freshman at College Park. I met Paul on the first day of what was to be a two week trip. I was checking in at the service building and he was giggling with a pretty co-worker behind the counter. Though he was leaning across the counter and looking the other way, I could see his eyes lit up when ever he smiled. It made me smile to myself, but I was caught.

When he stood up, all 6 foot 4 inches of him towered over my 5 foot 4 frame. Yet his smile made me feel 10 feet tall. He slowly put his hand out and introduced himself in a sweet Eastern Shore drawl. "Hi! I'm Paul."

I extended mine and gave a fumbling introduction of myself. And then? He walked me to my campsite. On the 10 minute walk, he told me a bit about himself and his job. He was 19, lived nearby, wanted to be a oceanographer and worked summers at the park (but I had never seen him before). He knew that I was here every year (my mom is easily recognizable, ass-length hair and asian). He giggled and said, he watched me make tie-dye t-shirts with my little sister the year before, and that he laughed whenever we'd race to the beach to dunk them in the salt water. He asked me to teach him how for a park event. I was a bit flustered. Paul knew about me, remembered me, yet I'd never seen him here before. I was intrigued.

He worked as a naturalist at the park so he invited me to the evening's event. Ghost stories at a bonfire. I was hooked. The thought of sitting around a campfire in the dark with this charming 19 year old thrilled me.

Paul wasn't a buff beauty. He was tall, thin and kind of nerdy, but had a sweetness that drew me to him like a bee to honey.

Every day for the next two weeks, he spent his off hours with me. We walked, talked, swam, canoed and walked the board-walk. I even met his best friend and his parents. I was smitten. He was charming and funny, and there wasn't a day that I spent any measure of time with him that my sides didn't hurt from all the laughing.

Paul knew I was smitten and didn't discourage it. I think he thought it cute.

From the first day that I met him, we began to correspond. We wrote letters on days we'd see eachother. I'd write while on the beach and he while on a break. We'd exchange the letters later and laugh at everything that happened through the day. I grew fonder of him with each letter, and he of me. We had pet names for one another, and jokes that only the two of us would understand. It was sweet.

Over the next several years, we saw each other at the beach in the summer months. He and a group of friends drove the 9 hours from Maryland to my house to take me to a baseball game and to eat my mom's cooking. That same group came back when I graduated from highschool in order to attend my graduation party.

I was seriously in love with this man. But, and this is a big "but", I never told him! Not then, anyway. Sure, we signed our correspondence with love, but I was content to be his friend. I often wonder what might have happened if I had told him. Would we have remained friends?

I had serious boyfriends and he had serious girlfriends during this time, but it didn't stop our correspondence. I believe we even made one of those silly pacts about marrying one day if we didn't find the one we loved.

Then, everything changed. I was visiting him during college. My last relationship ended badly and I was invited to the home of a mutual friend for a party. I had gone to drown my sorrows and hug a friend. I succeeded in drowning my sorrows. So much so that I blurted out that I loved him and had since I was 14. He smiled a nervous smile and said he loved me too, but, another big "but", I was simply too young for him. I think I had the sense to fein passing out at that time and spent the remainder of the night thinking over that awkward situation.

We didn't correspond as much after that day. I was crushed. We were still friends but I almost felt betrayed in a way. He claimed he could never be serious with someone nearly 6 years his junior. Later, after some time passed, we'd joke about it, but it still stung.

When I married my husband almost 10 years ago, Paul was at our wedding. He told my husband he loved me and that my husband was getting a "gem". For one fleeting second, I was a little sad on the happiest day of my life because for years I'd imagined marrying Paul. But his happiness for me erased that moment of sadness.

Five years later, Paul married "Sarah." Guess what? She and I are the same age. Go figure. While I realize we weren't meant to be, that information hurt.

Paul and I don't talk much now. We exchange Christmas cards, birthday cards and the occassional email and that is all. I miss him now and then.

When I daydream I sometimes dream about the beach, I see him challenging the surf and losing. Or I dream of my first skiing lesson and the countless bottles of vodka that we drank to ease my aches and pains. But mostly, I remember laughing with a friend.

I think I'll go write my friend and catch up on our lives. I miss him.

One For The Thumb!

We got it! We won! I cannot elaborate more for I am spent. I partied hard into the wee hours and am feeling the pain this a.m. I managed to get to work by 8 even though I don't think I slept a wink.

I am sooooo excited. I have been waiting 10 years for this game and they pulled it out. Contagion doubted my boys, but they did it!

Now, tomorrow is the parade and yet another wasted day for me at work!

Thanks for cheering on the Steelers!

Yay Steelers! Now, excuse me while I hit the head, the trip in wasn't exactly pleasant!

HERE WE GO STEELERS!

Whoo Hoo! Go Steelers!

Firehouse Redux

Well, many will remember the child issue that was brought up at last months meeting for my firehall. It has been resolved.

As expected, the President and Chief backed off of the "no children allowed" stance, though that is what they said originally. Now their stance is "we just don't want kids on the trucks and equipment cause they could get hurt and it's a liability issue for us."

Now, that is what they could have said to begin with, but did not. What they originally said was that they had a problem with little kids at the firehall. No elaboration, no discussion.

I truly don't believe it is a liability issue, but when backed into a corner, that is what they boiled it down to. And for good measure, they added that they didn't want those of us with kids to quit and acknowledged how much we do for the hall.

I'm not entirely satisfied with the result. Mostly because the original intent of the "no kids" policy was not to keep the kids off the trucks (which we do anyway). Only when backed into a corner did the issue become an insurance liability issue.

But, it is what it is. I will move on. Just thought I'd post an update.

Also, to those of you who have sent your prayers and good thoughts towards my family and my sister. Thank you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

You might be a blueblood if . . .

I stole this one from Deathknyte at Bad Catholicism in order to show yet again that us rednecks reside well north of the Mason Dixon too!

Instead of referring to two or more people as "y'all," you call them "you guys,"
(even if both of them are women)

Nope, been saying y'all my whole life. Mama thinks its cuz I was born in South Carolina.
Besides, here in the 'Burgh, they say yinz, blech!

You think barbecue is a verb meaning "to cook outside."

Nope. Fortunately I have been exposed to real barbecue. I have been exposed to all kinds and love them all almost equally . . .

You think Heinz Ketchup is really SPICY.

Puhleeze! Heinz Ketchup is just Ketchup. You want SPICY? try kimchi!

You would never stop to buy something somebody was cooking on the side of the road. (e.g., boiled peanuts, pronounced "bald penis").

Would, and have. In fact, I love boiled peanuts!

You don't have any problems pronouncing "Worcestershire sauce" correctly.

I can, in fact, pronounce "woustershire" sauce correctly.

For breakfast, you would prefer potatoes-au-gratin to grits.

Here again it's a yes, but we call em "cheesy potatoes."

You never had and don't know what a moon pie is.

Made them for my kid last summer.

You've never, ever eaten okra -- fried, boiled, or pickled.

I have eaten okra -- fried, boiled, pickled, sauced, and even raw once.

You eat fried chicken with a knife and fork.

Are you kidding me? Who eats fried chicken with a knife and fork unless they're trying to impress someone?

You've never seen a live chicken, and the only cows you've seen are on road trips.

I have in the past raised both chickens and cows. . . oh, we named em and then we ate em!

You have no idea what a polecat is.

My place is infested with the little bastards.

You don't see anything wrong with putting a sweater on your dog.

My dog would eat you if you tried to dress her.

You would rather vacation at Martha's Vineyard than at Six Flags.

I would rather eat dirt than visit either place.

You would rather have your son become a lawyer than grow up to get his own TV fishing show.

My son would be more comfortable with a fishing show.

You drink either "Pop" or "Soda"- instead of "Cokes."

Pop. I drink pop. But I occassionally call it soda from 10 years in Philadelphia.

You've never eaten and don't know how to make a tomato sandwich.

I have, but I hate tomatoes so I didn't like it. I have also eaten tomato pie, fried green tomatoes and tomato jam.

You have never planned your summer vacation around a gun-'n-knife show.

No, no I haven't - but I wouldn't mind. I am looking for an old Henry Repeating .22 long lever action sold at Sears back in the day - for my boy.

You think more money should go to important scientific research at your university than to pay the salary of the head football coach.

Hell no! They get enough money from snooty bluebloods! ;-)

You don't have any hats in your closet that advertise feed stores.

Not feed stores, but tractor supply and also tractors . . .

You can't spit out the car window without pulling over to the side of the road and stopping.

I don't spit out the car window, usually. And the Husband uses a cup or coke bottle.

You don't know anyone with at least two first names (i.e., Joe Bob, Faye Ellen , Billy Ray, Mary Jo, Bubba Dean, Joe Dan, Mary Alice)

I do. I know many, in fact, I am one of them, but we don't advertise it!

You don't know any women with male names (i.e., Tommie, Bobbie, Johnnie, Jimmie)

I know some Billies and some Tommies.

You don't have Maw-maw's & Paw-paw's.

I don't cause they are dead. But my son refers to my parents as "maw-maw and paw-paw"

You've never been to a craft show.

I have. In fact, there is one coming up soon . . .

None of your fur coats are homemade.

I don't wear fur coats.

You have no idea who the Allisons, Pettys or Earnhardts are.

I know who they are. I am not on a first name basis with any of them, but I did once meet Bobby Allison and got my picture taken with him and Elliot Sadler!

Well, that seals it. I am officially not a blue blood. While I answered in the affirmative to a couple of the above questions, I am quite positively a redneck. Whoop!

Check out the rest of the family:

basil's blog
BOBO BLOGGER
Cranky Neocon
Dangerous Logic
Agent Bedhead
HECTOR VEX
It Is What It Is
Mean Ol' Meany
Merri Musings
MY Vast Right Wing Conspiracy
Riehl World View
Rightwingsparkle
Six Meat Buffet
Sortapundit
The Ebb & Flow Institute
The Jawa Report
The Nose On Your Face
The Therapist
Vince Aut Morire
Feisty Republican Whore

Cotillion Time

That's right, the Cotillion is up!

Girl on the Right did a great job! Go check it out!