Wednesday, January 30, 2013

An Oldie But Goodie


It's Wacky Wednesday time again folks and today I'm gonna tell ya about a gal who's an oldie but goodie. It seems this chick is usin' her senior citizen discount, not only to her advantage, but also for the advantage of her clientele. Ya see 71 year old Sygun Liebhart of Glastonbury, Ct, who also goes by "Lola", was arrested recently on prostitution charges. She was turnin' tricks for a mere $150 when much younger women were chargin' more than twice that much for similar services. Now that's an AARP bargain folks!!!! Wonder if you have to screw her before 5 pm to get the early bird special?
I really think Lola is sellin' herself short 'cause this lady of the evening has a lot to offer. Even though she needs to be home by 8pm to catch reruns of the Golden Girls, if she forgets to wear her Depends this golden oldie could also give her Johns a golden shower. That's a bonus baby that's gotta be worth more than what she's currently chargin'. Plus, she can use her denture cream as lubricant and her walker as leverage during sex. Obviously she's givin' dudes more bang for their buck. 

Check out some of Lola's ads:

"Older is Better … A well preserved beauty. All natural and busty 38DD. Sexy, fit, warm and friendly."

"A truly mature escort with over 25 years experience in delivering a symphony of luxury and sensual delight to discriminating professional gentlemen both younger and older who can afford the best and who prefer their women a bit older but a lot better ... My background is French and German mix with soft beautiful skin, perfectly groomed from head to toe. Fine lingerie is a must to complete this picture of sensuous refinement and elegance," reads another "Lola" ad posted at eros-hartford.com.
Personally I think Lola looks damn hot for her age and I'm impressed she ain't wearin' granny panties!!  I doubt many men would mind if she put on her favorite big band music to get in the mood and asked one of her elderly clients if she could use his cane as a vibrator.  And rumor has it this chick was the first person to coin the term "Hoveround" as a sexual position instead of a power wheelchair. Atta girl, who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? So seriously Lola, when you get outta the slammer ya gotta raise your prices to reflect your level of experience and the unique services you provide. As L'Oreal would proudly say, "you're worth it".


Story: Here


Monday, January 28, 2013

I Saw a Peep Show With a Preacher

Today the good folks over at Studio 30 Plus invited me to be their featured writer. Who me you ask???? I know right???? When I asked the powers at be why on earth they would want a redneck like me to write a featured post, they replied, "Studio 30 Plus is open to writers with all different colored necks". Well, if they are up for my weird and wacky sense of humor, then I'm up for the challenge. Click Here to read about me watching a peep show with a preacher.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Weekend Wisecrack


 
In one of my Dad's lucid intervals from his hospital bed, he said one of his funniest lines to date, "if anyone wants to see what shit looks like, have them come visit me".
 
 
Image via Google Image

Monday, January 21, 2013

Never a Dull Moment

Where would you rank your stress level on that meter? Right now I'm thinkin' mine is between "stressed" and "anxiety" on the ol' mercury monitor. Ya see, I had a perfectly planned vacation for the holiday weekend for Uncle Jeffy, me and the boys. Gotta watch out for those perfect plans hey? We were gonna go to West Virginia so my 17 year old could tour our old alma mater, spend a couple of days in Mo'town to show our kids the sights where we used to party our asses off as wild, raucous college kids, then head out to a ski resort and ski and snowmobile for a couple of days. Sounded pretty awesome to me, especially since there was snow in the forecast and I gotta have my snow fix at least once a year.
 
So we drive 10 hours to Mo'town on Thursday, get settled in at the hotel, have a nice dinner, and then my Mom calls. If you've been a faithful reader of my blog, ya know the dysfunction goin' on with my parents. If not, you can get caught up Here. She tells me that my Dad is having emergency quadruple bypass surgery the next afternoon. Holy Fuck!!!! The day before I was informed he may need a pacemaker but nothing definite was scheduled. My mind goes into automatic pilot. I knew I needed to get to PA to see my Dad in case he doesn't survive the surgery. We decided as a family that Uncle Jeffy and the boys would continue on with the vacation as planned. Obviously I didn't sleep at all that night, got up at the crack of dawn, rented a car, and hauled ass to PA to get there in time so I could see my Dad before the surgery.
Although I don't like to make comparisons to that murderer, I felt like OJ Simpson back in the day when he did those Hertz commercials runnin' through the airport. I was runnin' through the parking lot of the hospital so damn fast hopin' I made it in time to tell my Dad one last time that I loved him before he went under the knife. He may be a compulsive gambler, dysfunctional as hell, and not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he's still my Dad. Totally outta breath I asked at the information desk about my Dad's surgery. He was still in his room. WHEW, I made it!!!! When I got to his room, I was informed his surgery was cancelled until Monday or Tuesday.
 
I asked my parental units why the surgery was cancelled, and they of course had no idea. My Dad didn't even know he was having surgery. This is the point where I literally thought the expression, "fuck my life" was never more appropriate. After discussions with nurses and physicians, I learned the surgery was cancelled because my Dad has a myriad of health issues, too lengthy to list here. Suffice it to say, his chances are not great. As I write this, his surgery is scheduled for Monday, the 21st, at 6:30am EST. Given the history of things so far this week, that could change in a skinny minute.
 
Good news is that although my Dad is facing the surgery of his life, he STILL insists on boxing his lottery number and buying powerball tickets. When I told him he had more important things to worry about, he gave me his standard line he's been telling me my entire life, "God damn it Deb, somebody's gotta win and it might as well be a poor son of a bitch like me". Keep the dream alive Dad, keep the dream alive!!
 
Please forgive me if I'm a bad blogging friend for awhile as I'm the only one parenting two dysfunctional parents, while also trying to hold together a family of my own. Fair warning to all within the tri-state area: If my personal stress meter goes above the "anxiety" level, run for cover. I've been in the red zone before and it ain't a purty site. I hear I'm some sort of urban legend in these here parts.
 
Images via Google Images
 


Saturday, January 19, 2013

Weekend Wisecrack


Since I'm at my beloved alma mater, West Virginia University this weekend, I thought I would entertain y'all with a few WV redneck jokes. I do love me some Mountaineers, but I also have a warped sense of humor. As Uncle Jeffy says, who was raised up in them there mountains of WV, "everythang ya hear is purty much true":

Q: What is the definition of safe sex down in West Virginia?
A: Placing signs on the animals that kick.

Q: If you have a car containing a Mountaineers wide receiver, a Mountaineers linebacker, and a Mountaineers defensive back, who is driving the car?
A: The cop.

Q: What is the definition of a West Virginia virgin?
A: An ugly twelve year old who can outrun her brothers..

Q: What does a West Virginia native and a bottle of beer have in common?
A: They’re both empty from the neck up.

Q: What did the West Virginia female say after sex?
A: Get off me Dad, you're crushing my smokes!

Jokes: Here

Friday, January 18, 2013

Play That Game



How about my Ry Guy winning first place at his school in the Young Author's contest again this year, and also winning at the county level for his poem "Gridirion Glory"? The theme of the contest was "Play That Game".  Hope you enjoy:

Gridiron Glory
On the gridiron is where I like to be.
Throwing the pigskin is the sport for me.
I was so proud of myself for making the team.
Only twelve 7th graders realized this dream.
There were some disadvantages to being so small.
Like maybe my uniform would have fit better had I been tall.
My practice pants were so big that I actually fell.
And my game jersey was a double XL.
After practice I smell really stinky in the car.
My Mom can't stand it and keeps the windows ajar.
Game day starts with slipping the pads on over my shoulders and back.
Then putting on my team colors: gold and black.
When my helmet is on and my mouth guard is in,
I morph into a football player and I'm in the game to win!
Running through the spirit banner is really cool.
And seeing the pretty cheerleaders can make a guy drool.
Then seeing the big dudes on the other team can make you sweat.
But if they see fear in your eyes, that is something you will surely regret.
There is nothing better than hearing the "smack" from making a good hard hit.
I love to wrap up my opponent; he may need a first aid kit.
After a tough game I am covered in bruises,
But it is all worth it if to a victory my team cruises.
I'm hoping before next year I will have a growth spurt.
Being bigger and taller certainly wouldn't hurt!
I may be small in stature, but I'm big in heart.
And I plan to practice long snapping to get a head start.
When I come onto the field, everyone will cheer,
You will too, just wait til next year!
 


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Parenting Parents

Welcome to another edition of Wacky Wednesday folks. Today you are fortunate enough to read another chapter about my wacky, dysfunctional parents. Remember that catchy little jingle back in the day about conjunctions from School House Rock? I modified it so now it is my family theme song: "Dysfunction junction, what's your function". Seriously, it's amazing I turned out 1/2 way normal given the copious amount of dysfunction seeping from the pores of my ancestors. Notice I said 1/2 way normal. I never claimed to be sane, but I know I ain't near as wacky as my kin folk.
 
So in case you missed the first installment, you can read about it Here where my parents lost their home and their every last dime to a gambling addiction. Sad really, but they refuse to accept they have a problem. Until you are willing to make a real change, any amount of outside help ain't worth a hill of beans.
 
Anyway, just hours before the sheriff is to come lock them outta their house and put their ass on the street, my Dad passes out at a restaurant. An ambulance comes to take him to the ER. Since I live 8 hours from my parental units, and I'm an only child, I receive a voice mail from my Mom that says, "Dad is in the hospital, I don't know what's wrong with him, and I don't have no phone". Excellent command of the English language there hey?



 
Believe me when I tell ya, the Bundy family has more on the ball than my folks. Long story short, my Dad is admitted to the hospital, has been there 6 days, and insists he has no idea what is wrong with him other than he needs a pacemaker but he can't get one for some reason. HIPPA laws prevent me from receiving his health care information. I can't get in touch with my Mom 'cause she don't have no phone. My Dad can't hear the phone ringing in his hospital room 'cause he's hard of hearing, so when I call to check on him, the poor nurses have to go down to his room and yell at him to pick up the phone. He is also so obnoxious that one of the nurses has nicknamed him "loudmouth". Other relatives have told me they can find my Dad's room as soon as the elevator doors open 'cause they hear him burping and farting all the way down the hall. My bet is those hospital employees can't wait until the day my Dad is discharged, so they can have a fond farewell PAR-TAY in his honor when they wheel him away.
 
Good news is the moving van came in the nick of time and moved some items outta the house for my Mom into an apartment. When I asked my Mom if she will have the same phone number, she replied "yes because I have a portable phone". As I was banging my head against the wall, I explained that she needed to call the phone company to get a land line hooked up. Hence the reason she still don't have no phone. Shockingly, her TV "don't work" either. Yep, you guessed it. Ya can't just move into a new joint, plug in the TV and expect the cable to magically appear. My brain is now swollen from hitting my head so many times against the wall.
 
Honestly I thought raising two teenage boys was rough, but that is a walk in the park in comparison to parenting parents who are freakin' clueless about life. The only comic relief came from my 87 year old Grandmother who told me, "I want to kick your Mom and Dad in the ass because of their stupid gambling but my arthritic leg won't let me". Rock on Grandma!!!!!

Images via: Google images



Monday, January 14, 2013

Redneck Red Carpet Recap

Last night was the Golden Globe Awards, and I'm here to give y'all my redneck recap of all the fashion hits and misses on the red carpet. Like I said before, I'm an off the rack kinda gal, but I figure if Kelly Osbourne is now considered a fashion expert, there's a market for my redneck opinion too. So, the Golden Globes being less fancy schmancy than the Oscars with free liquor, and less trashy than the VMA's, there were some interesting fashions indeed. Let's take a look:
Julianne, the zoo called, they want their ostrich back.
Hey Angelina and your famous leg pose from last year, game on sista!!!!
Oh Yea Eva, you wanna play that game, take THAT bitch!!!!
How many illegal immigrants did Lucy Liu smuggle in under those roses?
Whoa, Rachel Weisz wearing the first floor length hair net.
 And who cares what Stacy Keibler is wearing, 'cause she will be wearing George later and that's all that really counts.
 Kerry Washington threw on a sheer tablecloth over a skirt and called it a day.
 And straight from the homeless shelter came Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton.
 
 
Images: Here
 
 
 
 


Saturday, January 12, 2013

Weekend Wisecrack

Al Roker admits, "I pooped my pants at the white house". (due to complications from gastric bypass)
 
There's been worse crap in the white house fo' sho!!
 
 
Punch line provided by my trainer and friend Allen.
 
 
Story: Here

Friday, January 11, 2013

Liquid Gold

Geez, some folks must have more money than sense. If I had a spare $27G sittin' around, I might be thinkin' about replacin' Sammy the Sequoia who ain't no spring chickin' with 115,000 miles, or maybe I would stash a few thousand away in my kids' college funds. Of course a VA-CAY to Australia would be the ultimate guilty pleasure for me, but I ain't got that chunk of change. However,  Lyle Shellenberg, a retired businessman from Salem, Oregon, apparently does, and he chose to lay it all down on a 50 year old bottle of Glenfiddich Scotch. Dang, that shizz must be liquid gold to cost that much.
 
Mr. Shellenberg became one of only six people in the country to own this limited edition bottle. He says his ties to Glenfiddich go back 40 years when he toured the distillery in Scotland with his grandfather. I believe that was about the same time he started to grow that porn star mustache. Now Mr. Shellenberg did say he wanted to own something that no one else in the state would have. Of course if he slams that scotch himself he could have a $27,000 hangover. Not many folks can make that claim to fame fo' sho!! 
 
 Call me crazy, but somethin' tells me that an expensive hangover from drinkin' liquid gold ain't no different from a hangover on the cheap. Plus, Two Buck Chuck ain't so bad goin' down. I have a feelin' it's all 'bout the same comin' back up.
 
 
Story: Here

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Silence is Golden

It's Wacky Wednesday time folks, and even though most of you have probably packed away your Griswald lights until next year, one spirited lady near Baton Rouge, LA has an entertaining display she wants her neighbors to see all year long. Although the message is bein' shouted from the rooftop, no actual words are required. Silence is golden as they say. Them pesky neighbors sure don't have to guess what's she's thinkin' when they pull into their driveway. Nope, no hidden meaning here, just straight up. My kinda gal fo' sho!!!
 

 
Yeppers, Sarah Childs created this light extravaganza on her roof in November because she believed a neighbor stole her dog. The city of Denham Springs wanted her to remove the display, but she and the ACLU sued the city, the mayor and the police arguing that removing the lights would violate her free speech. The lawsuit is still pending. Now I ain't about to get into the constitutional law aspects of the suit, but one thang I am gonna do is send Ms. Childs a little gift for her front yard 'cause I think it would fit in nicely with the whole theme she's got goin' on:
Uh Huh, that's what I'm talkin' about!
 
Story: Here
 

 


Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Craptacular PAR-TAY 2013

The craptacular crap

Yeppers folks, it's that time of the year again. Ya start puttin' away all of the awesome gifts the big ol' fat man got ya for Christmas, and ya just about have your new Kindle Fire and iPhone 5 figured out. But there still sits that one gift. You know the one. The one that was wrapped all fancy and purty, but when you opened it, you thought what the fuck is this piece of crap???? You're lookin' around at your family on Christmas day thinkin' it's a joke, and every one's gonna bust out laughin', but no one does. So, you put on that fake Vanna White smile and wonder who you pissed off this year to deserve somethin' off the WalMart clearance rack.
The craptastic crappers.
 
Not to worry, everybody gets crap. In fact, for many years now I have celebrated this tacky trash with my annual Christmas Crap PAR-TAY the first Saturday after New Year's Day. What a craptacular event indeed!!! You wouldn't believe the shizz people get as gifts. I structure the event like a Chinese ornament exchange where everyone gets a number and you start pickin' from the lot. You can steal someone else's gift or pick another wrapped item. Believe me when I tell ya, one person's trash is another person's treasure.  Oh, and the best part is the story behind how the person came into possession of the actual piece of crap. It's usually a mother in law, co-worker, or some other relative who says, "when I saw this, I immediately thought of you". Oh Yea, that just gives ya the warm and fuzzies.

There I am in my cruise ship track suit my Mom gave me waitin' for my guests to arrive. That young lady with me is the official Christmas Crap mascot named Velour. Obviously she is anatomically correct, and was an actual crap present several years ago. Ain't she gorgeous???


This festive snowman was the highlight of the crap party this year, 'cause he wiggles his little butt to the tune of "Shake Your Groove Thing". He went quickly and was "retired" after two steals. However, the rest of the crap left us all shakin' our heads. Up for grabs were ugly Christmas sweaters, rot gut wine, Dolly Parton CD's, a Russian tea set, a meatloaf maker, cheap ass picture frames, stinky candles, and various other items you wouldn't want under your tree. But definitely, the one present that had us all in stitches was this beauty:
WTF???????
That's me proppin' up Sweetie Pie's head 'cause it popped off when all the crappers were admiring the cherry pie stains on her feet. At least it was clean break. Straight across at the neck. The bitch felt no pain. 



Saturday, January 5, 2013

Weekend Wisecrack

Congrats to Hugh Hefner and Crystal Harris!
 
 
There was an old man who was married to a very young woman.

The old man was at the doctor's clinic for a checkup and the doctor said, "Sir, today I will need a sperm sample, urine sample and a stool sample".

The old man looks at his young wife and says, "What did he say"?

His wife replies, "He needs your underwear."
 
Joke: Here


Thursday, January 3, 2013

Hear Ye for Kimye

Awwwww, ain't they cute? Kim Kardashian and Kanye West strollin' hand in hand, smilin' for the paparazzi, lookin' all happy together, and breedin' an illegitimate kid. Just yesteray I wrote about Jessica Simpson preggers with her second illegit baby and here comes another. I mean seriously folks, what is it with these celebs who do thangs in reverse order? Haven't they ever heard of that catchy little tune from grade school:

Kim and Kanye up in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love, second comes marriage
Then comes a baby in a baby carriage.
 
Dang, guess I'm showin' my age huh? Of course there is that pesky problem of her still not bein' divorced from what's his name from their marriage that lasted about as long as one of Charlie Sheen's drinkin' binges. Wouldn't want Ms. Kardashian to be slapped with a bigamy lawsuit now would we? My bad. 
 
Good news is, the baby even has a nickname already- Kimye, a combination of Kim and Kanye. Betcha Mr. Baby Daddy gonna write a little diddy about his pride and joy. Might go somethin' like this:
 
Hear Ye for Kimye the apple of my eye.
First time I saw you, you made a grown man cry.
Not 'cause you're so precious and tiny,
Or 'cause your eyes are so bright and shiny.
Not 'cause you got personality and are full of sass.
But Good God kid, it's 'cause you got your Mama's ass!!!!
 
 
 
Images via Google Images


Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Another Bun in the Oven

Sure hope everyone is cured from their hangovers yesterday and adjusting to the idea of 2013. One person who ain't wastin' no time gettin' into the swing of thangs is Jessica Simpson who is already sportin' a baby bump when her first born is a mere 6 months old. How wacky is that???? Guess as soon as the doctor gave her vajayjay the thumbs up, Ms. Simpson was back in the saddle.

The singer tweeted out this photo with the caption "bumpin' and proud". Call me old fashioned, but I don't know if she should be too daggone proud about havin' two illegitimate kids in a year and a half. However, she can be mighty proud of bein' the first woman in one of those "Got Milk" commercials who doesn't have to hold a glass. All she has to do is sip outta one of her own ample assets. Now that's serious talent right there. And hey Jess, don't cry over spilled milk if you lose that sweet endorsement deal with Weight Watchers when you blow up like the Goodyear Blimp the way you did with your first pregnancy. You can make millions bottlin' up some of that liquid gold, 'cause I hear there's a real market for celebrity breast milk. I mean who wouldn't want their baby to absorb some of the nutrients from a person famous for not knowing the difference between tuna and chicken.

That's right girl. Milk it for all it's worth!!!
 
Story: Here