Day in the Life

Morning:  "WHO GOT THE CAT WET!?!" booms Mr B to a soaking wet lil brother who is dripping from the shower and standing there all innocent and perplexed in his towel.  Now ain't that a mystery....

Later that day:  Lil brother and I set out (against my will) to deliver the over priced crap from the school fund raiser to our victimized neighbors (which btw frosts my @ss that schools are pimping kids to sell cheap @ss plastic crap for exorbitant prices that not even the Russian Mafia would have the nerve to extort).  Anyhoo...  So we pass by a neighbor who is outside carving pumpkins with her kids and I wave and say a friendly greeting when lil brother announces in his booming voice, "THAT LADY DIDN'T GIVE OUT CANDY LAST HALLOWEEN!"  Which made me squeeze his arm and hiss in his ear about keeping his trap shut 'cause I prefer to talk about people BEHIND their backs not up close and personal and in hearing  distance.

Minutes later still circling the neighborhood:
"So who else did you sell this crap to?!?"  I grouse, trying to decipher the list with names I don't know with no addresses.
"I sold stuff to de lady who does drugs," he informs me.  
"What?!?"  I stop in my tracks.
"Yeah, dat lady who lives dere."  And he points to the house.
"What do you mean drugs???  And how do you know this ?!?"
 (And yes, I get the irony of being concerned with where my child has gone a month ago.  But whatcha gonna do???)
"Dere was cigarettes on her porch.  I saw it."

Next year, I am paying lil brother $20 bucks to NOT sell this crap.   Kids....sheesh!

Dodging a Bullet

After a girl's slumber party weekend, my gal pal and I stoically brace ourselves for having to pay back the hubbies (who have been on kid duty all weekend) by graciously performing our wifely duties-albeit that would mean "performing" on a Sunday-which the Bible says is a DAY OF REST.  Don't y'all just love quoting the Bible when it suits your own selfish purposes???  Anyhoo...  I decide to take care of business and just hope that God's not looking in my direction while I do what a working girl has to.  So later I check in on my friend who boasts that she dodged a bullet and is surfing the Internet without being molested or felt up by a hopeful hubby.  Her secret???  She just got out the tampon box and put it by the potty.  Which gives her another five days free...seven if she's a good actress, and he's not paying attention.

...Now how brilliant is that?!? 

PS-Unfortunately that lil trick doesn't work over here at blither blather headquarters.  I guess leaving the tampon box out for 3 weeks kinda blew my cover with Mr. B...

Whackadoo Hangover

So the preacher's kid is in my back yard as I stumble out the back door in my sloppy pj's and pony tail with no bra/make up to holler the dog back in...at 4 PM...after unsuccessfully trying to nurse a rum headache for most of the day. And he wants to have a conversation with me... and pet the dog...and tell me sh*t... and I'm clutching my old stretchy v-neck sleep shirt just trying to keep my boobs from popping out as I mumble and nod sumpin' unintelligible before slamming the door in his face mid sentence. Laws...

So even though I have a rum-skull-buster of a headache, playing Whackadoo Bingo with the ladies was SOOOOOO WORTH IT. Oh, and just to put your mind at ease, I did get rid of the "drug" evidence on the back patio which lil brother found and reported on at the last lady party... i.e.: an ashtray filled with cigarette butts. I tell you what, the Red Ribbon Week at the elementary school is really killing all the grown-up fun 'round these parts.

In other exciting news: I am already thinking about getting out the CHRISTMAS CRAP! I know, right?!? Screw Halloween and all that ugly black-death-sh*t. I bought myself a hand crafted gourd Santa at the local craft fair, and I am ready to get out the freakin' jingle bells-just as soon Mr B gets home from camping with the boys this weekend. Y'all know he's gonna be thrilled...

Confucius Say...

The ancient Chinese had the wisdom of Confucius; the ancient Greeks had the sage words of Aristotle.  We, however, have Internet flotsam.  Enjoy!

Last Night:
Lil brother comes busting through my bedroom/bathroom door to show me his "murderer" costume for Halloween with his spend the night buddy hot on his heels.  Only problem, I am sans habille (that's fancy French for what we Southerners call "nekked") as I step into the tub.  Of course I holler, and he does a 180 and slams the door before spend the night friend gets a look at mama boobies.  Praise the Lord!  'Cause if I have to call a mom to 'splain THAT then he is NEVER HAVING ANOTHER FRIEND OVER FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE.

Honestly, I do think we need to de-mystify the boobie.  It is a universal truth that you will not die from seeing your mama's boobies.  And yes, I understand that all kid's have to clutch their throats in the universal death gasp as they jerk their t-shirt over their heads and make gagging noises.  Sheesh... it's just a BOOBIE, for God's sake. 

However, for you voyeur types (that's fancy French for what we Southerners call "perverted peekers") who are curious about what  Blither Blather boobies look like, well... just picture Kim Kardashian.  Yeah, we're practically twins...  Go ahead:  I know you want to Google that. 

How's THAT for de-mystifying the mama boob?

Hello Blog...It's Me Again...

Hello again....  I know, right?!?  It's been awhile...  I have seriously been wrestling with some major PISS & VINEGAR issues-mostly political & philosophical-which I know may sound surprising considering the drivel that normally gets posted here-but I have been downright vitriolic while foaming at the mouth with bitterness.  Sombody oughtta put me outta my misery.   A rabid skunk probably has a better world view than I currently do.  My mojo seriously needs an overhaul.

The fact that I am even willing to post this much must mean that gallons of caffeine and a daily B vitamin occasionally decreases a smidge of b*tchiness for like 3 minutes...sometimes...if the sun is shining.

Lest you think I have become abysmally bitter and boring, I will share this lil detail of daily life:  I ran into the neighborhood Bunco-Porno-Clear-Heel-Wearing-Glitter-Boobed-Slut-Wannabe at the local Laotian nail salon (that's a whole nuther story involving awkward smiling and nodding which resulted in my getting a ridiculous flower painted on my big toe like a 12 year old).  Anyhoo...  I kept my head down, averted my gaze, and clutched the year old copy of The Enquirer like it held the secret of eternal youth in it.  Posting stuff on the Internet 'bout real life folks has a tendency for making things, shall we say...  AWKWARD???  You'd think I'd know better by now.  And FYI-she was wearing NO BRA.

Lastly, I met a guy who introduced himself as a Wicken (I'm supposing a real life WARLOCK!).  Ain't that THRILLING!?!  And y'all, I know this is mighty un-Christian of me, but I am seriously considering having him put a hex on someone.... I'm just biding my time.... Like, FOR. REAL.  And if he's just some Faker Harry Potter Freak then I am definitely gonna put that on the Internet too.  I ain't playing, is all I'm sayin'.