The Three Ring Circus in My Mind

So I had to look up a case for The Cool Attorney. As I was reading through it, the name “Frankfurter” jumped at me from the page. It was preceded by the word, “Justice,” so immediately my brain had to hear, “Justice Sweet Transvestite, from Transsexual Transylvania.”

Then I thought that would be an awesome name for a drag queen, “Justice Sweet Transvestite.” She could wear judicial robes, big powdered wig, pink latex gloves, platform boots and carry a giant gavel. She could spout bon mots such as “I’m ruling for love in your favor,” “Guilty of love in the first degree,” and Here come da judge.” OK, I’m reaching with that last one, but you get the picture.

Is it any wonder I get so few things accomplished?

Happy Redneck Mother's Day

Yesterday was Mother's Day. I was greeted with breakfast in bed, prepared by The Boyfriend, The Big One and The Little One. The best part about it was that the girls worked with The Boyfriend in its preparation, and The Big One was particularly civil toward The Boyfriend. Baby steps, baby steps.

In honor of Mother's Day, one of my FB friends from church camp posted a sing-a-long to a song we used to sing, Jerry Jeff Walker's "Redneck Mother."

"He was born in Oklahoma,
His wife's name's Betty Lou Thelma Liz
And he's not responsible for what he's doing
Cause his mother made him what he is.

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

Sure does like his Falstaff beer,
Likes to chase it down with that Wild Turkey liquor;
Drives a fifty-seven GMC pickup truck;
He's got a gun rack; "Goat ropers need love, too" sticker

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

Well,
M is for the mudflaps you give me for my pickup truck
O is for the Oil I put on my hair
T is for T-bird
H is for Haggard
E is for eggs, and
R is for REDNECK.

Up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

He's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell."

It wasn't until a couple of years ago, I realized this was probably not standard church camp repertoire.

I went to a kick-ass church camp.

Happy Belated Mother's Day all!

Thank God I'm a Country Boy (Girl)

I admit it. Like many of my FaceBook "friends," I am a fan of FarmVille. And I think I finally figured out its appeal, especially among mothers.

FarmVille is always neat and tidy. You know that when you log off of it, it will be exactly the same when you come back. No errant shoes or dishes left lying around. Everything arranged just the way YOU like it. And you can redecorate as often as you like and no one will complain.

You get presents EVERY DAY. Seriously, how great is that. That doesn't happen in real life.

There are no punitive damages in FarmVille. If you forget to harvest a crop, big deal. You can just always get a do-over. If you forget to tend to the animals or trees, they'll wait. They are there just for your pleasure.

You can be helpful and get rewarded every time. Or not. It's all virtual so who cares.

You can shop all you want and know your account will be replenished with just a few clicks of the mouse.

You can grow things and not get a lick of dirt on yourself.

You can have green or purple hair and no one will think this is weird.

It's truly the one little corner of my world where I have complete control.

Worlds of Fun(?)

My Cool Friend Linda has this theory that as we age, our brains shrink and therefore are rattled about in our skulls when we ride amusement park rides, and that is the reason that as we get older, amusument park rides no longer hold as much amusement.

After the Saturday 8th grade choir field trip to Worlds of Fun, I can confirm her theory to be true.

I only rode three roller coasters and the closest I came to a spinny-ride was the carousel.

I came home with a migrane as big as the Mamba.(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mamba_(roller_coaster)

I am planning to petition Worlds of Fun to offer a "Purse-Holder Admission Fee." This would be a reduced admission fee for the mom who does not ride anything other than the carousel, and who only goes to the park to hold the purses and backpacks.