Goochland County's most eligible bachelor!

With his permission, I've decided to introduce y'all to my new man, Phil! Some of y'all may already know Phil "Mushy" Plums through his contracting business, or from seeing him around the Colonial Downs OTB on Broad St. Here's a picture of him enjoying a morning cup of my famous homemade cigarette juice:



Phil is the perfect combination of masculinity and sophistication. He may be a Southern man, but he ain't no slack jaw! He's got a quick, gravelly way of talking that damn near melts my stretch pants off! He can sing like Gomer Pyle, and dance to anything, even jug band music! But what really gets me wet n' bothered is that he drives a classic 1986 Monte Carlo!

Of course he collects guns and old beer cans, as any man should. But he also maintains a world class collection of antique ivory butt-plugs, as well as a shed full of domestic animal furs. His home decor is really something special. I would describe it as "Antiques Roadshow" meets "Home Shopping Network" meets "Powhatan Refuse Transfer Station.".

I can tell that this man is ready to get serious. The second time I slept over his house he gave me a brand new Tweety Bird night dress! He starts my van for me in the morning so the A/C gets nice and cold before I get in! He's even been keeping a few cans of my favorite drink, Chelada (Bud Light & Clamato), in his fridge. Sometimes I don't ever want to leave!

Well I'll stop now because if I say any more you bitches will probably try to come take my man from me! Just kiddin'! I'm sure y'all know that I'd kill y'all! I'm gonna give this man the best of my lovin', so nobody better be getting under those overalls but me!

I'm a Mom!

I'm so sick of people questioning my opinions on things! I'm a mom, okay?! I think I know what's best! One day, if you selfish, childless hipsters have some kids of your own, you'll understand!

So whether you jerks like it or not, I'm going to tell it like it is for once! Everyone agrees that our society is screwed up. Well I'm not just going to stand around and bitch about it anymore! I'm gonna tell you all what we need to do about it!

First of all, that summer vacation thing needs to stop. These kids need better, more consistent education, and I need daycare. Let's kill two birds with one stone and extend public school to 10 hours per day, 7 days per week, all year long! Then maybe these "teachers" would have time to teach the kids some real skills, like how to balance a checkbook, practice safe sex, or mop a floor.

Another thing they need to cut down on is the amount of commercials on TV. There are so many commercials nowadays that it loses the kids' attention. Next thing you know, the kids are going outside, getting up to God knows what. It's not safe! The only kids protected from this scourge are the ones whose parents can afford a TIVO!

Now here's one we can all agree on: double stroller accessibility and right-of-way. We need to make sure that all public places have ramps, elevators, and special double stroller pedestrian lanes installed. Also, double stroller operators need to be granted right-of-way in all pedestrian situations.



This is just the beginning of the new legislation I propose. Walmart is already the lifeblood to most of the finer communities in this great land of ours. Well they need to take some responsibility and start 24-hour home delivery to us single moms! Whether it's baby wipes, an inflatable raft, or a 4-pack of Bartles & Jaymes, I need what I need when I need it! I can't be throwin' my kids in those child seats and driving down the road two damn miles every time I need something! I'm pregnant, for God's sake!

Lastly, I'm offering a solution for all that "adult" entertainment out there. Get rid of it! If it's a bad influence on kids, it needs to be gone from our society. We can live without all the violence and the sex, the language, and the scary stuff! We need a world that's safe for kids. So we must strive towards a G-rated Utopia we can all enjoy! If y'all would just vote like the churches tell you to then we wouldn't even have this problem!

Stanks on a plane!

We just got back from our vacation in sunny Florida. We had a great time! I decided we should spend this Summer's vacation in one of our favorite destinations: Jacksonville! I like to choose places that are a lot like Richmond so we don't get too homesick. It's also a real cheap flight to Jacksonville out of Norfolk. I got my new boyfriend, the rugged Mr. Phil Plumbs(of Plumbs's Contracting Services), to drive us to the Norfolk airport for our 6:30 a.m. flight.

I let the kids sleep most of the way to Norfolk so they'd be well rested for the flight. What a mistake that was! Next thing I know they're running amok through security while I'm trying to take out my various piercings and such. My black leather boots lace up to my knees, and of course the jerks made me take those off too.

By the time we got through security the attendants at the gate were actually calling out our name over the loudspeaker. We made it through the gate just before they shut the doors. The plane was massive, and pretty much full up. We shoved our way past the fat-asses in first class, and hustled on towards our seats in row 29.

Everyone on the plane was giving us dirty looks, but I ignored them because I know I can get in a lot of trouble if I raise my voice on an airplane. It's bad enough that it's 90 degrees in this friggin' tube. But I've also got to remain aware that my pregnancy is making me irritable even when I don't know it.

We got to our seats and realized that there wasn't any space left in the overhead compartment. We all had good sized carry-ons, so the flight attendant grabbed our bags from us and carried them off the plane to be checked into the cargo area. I got my three kids buckled into the seats on the left side of the row, and I took the remaining aisle seat on the right hand side.

Twenty minutes later the plane is in the air, and I was heading back towards the bathroom. Being pregnant makes me thirsty all the time, and due to all the Gatorade I'm drinking I end up pissing like a racehorse dozens of times a day. Also, I'm constipated all the damn time. Even the Activia I've been eating can't see to break through. I'm so used to it by now that I just wait and wait for it to happen. I actually nodded off on the toilet!

Approximately 25 minutes later I was awoken by some banging on the bathroom door. I replied that I was okay. I noticed that I had managed to shit while sleeping, which was nice. So I wiped, flushed, and left. There was a nice-sized line to the other bathroom door, which apparently wasn't enough to keep up with the passenger load. More scowls, but once again, I kept my patience in check.

As I came back up the aisle I could tell that somebodies kids were being really loud. Of course, they were mine. I told them sternly to calm down and play more quietly. Both of my youngest were slamming their tray tables up and down, banging on them, and kicking the seats. They started doing it more quietly, and in all honesty I was just happy that they were entertaining themselves.

I flipped through the SkyMall, letting the next forty minutes of the flight go by without a care. The kids were still being a little crazy, but they're kids, and this flight would be over shortly. A voice from a row or two in front the children said, "why doesn't she do something about those kids?", loud enough for me to hear. As a good mom, I was prepared. As you probably know, kids need snacks and things to keep them happy.

I handed each of them a can of tasty potted meat. You should see how well behaved they are when they're cracking the lid off of one of those babies, and digging their index fingers in to scoop out a big mouthful. For those not in the know, this is the snack treat I'm talking about:



I guess not everyone was happy about the smell of room temperature potted meat, because folks started looking around. One old broad was even holding her nose! I looked over to the kids and noticed that my three year old had started smearing potted meat all over the seat and on the window.

My middle one, 7 year old Brandon, thought this was funny, and wanted to get in on it, so he started flicking his off of his finger into the air. Some of it went into a lady's hair, but she didn't even notice. I yanked all the cans away, wiped their hands off with an airplane blanket, and gave them both a look to show them that mommy meant business! Per the captain, we were beginning our descent towards Jacksonville.

They kids were good and quiet for those last ten minutes or so, even during the relatively rough landing. Everyone on the plane was pretty restless as we taxied up to the gate. That was when Brandon vomited like a big dog all over his own legs and shoes. You know how that last five minutes waiting to get off a plane feels more like twenty? Well when someone throws up just before your plane arrives to the gate it makes things a whole helluva lot worse.

To be honest, I had had it. He's lucky I didn't smack him. The attendant realized that he had gotten sick, and just rushed us four past all the half-standing aisle seaters, right off the plane and into the gate corridor. I hurriedly cleaned him off with a bunch of cocktail napkins they gave me on our way out of the plane.

Now I don't know if it was the flight, my nauseousness from pregnancy, the hot air in the corridor, or just the smell of potted meat vomit on my son, but I threw up right then and there myself. I quickly wiped off my mouth and we tried to blend into the crowd heading towards the baggage check.

That nightmare being over, we took a cab from the airport to our usual hotel, the Scottish Inn , on Phillips Highway in Jacksonville. Check it out sometime if you're in Florida.

A REAL Man (is hard to find)!

I'm sick of it, y'all! I'm sick of the saps, the smart pricks, and the pretty boys! Why is it so damn hard to find a real man? I guess I can't ask that question without first telling you what I mean.

The thing that bothers me these days is how all these fancy men out there always want the best. The best foods, the best clothes, and the best cars. I hate that shit!

I want man who drives an '87 for pickup. It has a rusted out bed which is half filled with beer cans. The ash tray is full of butts, and there's a three-legged dog tied up in the passenger seat.

The man I'm talking about buys only the cheapest coffee on the shelf. Drinks the cheapest beer in the cooler. He craves the lowest quality meats available for his dinner, (like a Hardee's Thickburger, or a big dirty Hungryman frozen dinner).

My dream man wears nothing but "No Fear" T-shirts, tighty whities that are no longer white or tight, and generic Walmart sweatpants, the ass of which are in a perpetual state of moistness.

I sure as shit don't want no indoor man! I want a man who works outside! Dead skin should be peeling from his pink shoulders at least 7 months out of the year. He should spend the whole day on a roof, talking to Mexican laborers about big titty blonds. And when he comes home from being barked at all day by his foreman, I want him angry and stinking like a grizzly bear's dingy musk sack!

When it comes to looks, you can forget those fine, ladylike features that you see on the male actors and models of today. I want a butt ugly pig man! For starters, he should have a huge overbite, along with a good-sized underbite. I want his head bald, his neck covered in razor burns, and every other inch of him to be swarthy with thick, matted hair! I want greasy, leathery shoulder blades that stick out to next week! And uneven, gnarly, razor-sharp fingernails that are packed with pork rind crumbs, and reek of WD-40. I promise myself now that I will settle for nothing less than a big old pair of rotten feet that stink worse than day-old boiled chitterlings.

I think y'all are getting the picture! So all you pink polo wearing sissies, with your straight-razor haircuts and your boxer-briefs can save your fresh, minty breath! When my next man comes along, he'll be draggin' his nuckles and luggin' his hunched back right into my heart!

Rudeness at the Chipotle!

First of all, this one ain't about the employees. They my peoples. This is about the customers. Especially the rude ho who was in the line behind me. I'm lucky I'm not in a jail cell right now, 'cause that little skank nearly set me off! I'm so mad I gotta get this out before I can even eat my food!

Once per week on Thursday, one of us in the office has to go out to pick up lunch for everyone. It's my turn, so I decided on Chipotle, since it's nice and quick. I had everyone email their orders into my Blackberry, and I went around and collected up all the money.

I headed up into the Chipotle around 12:10, and luckily there were only three people in line. They moved through pretty quick. I warned the order taker guy that I had a bunch of orders, and he said go ahead.

As I went through the first few I realized how specific they were in their emails about what they wanted. That's a pain because you gotta deal with the tortilla guy, then the girl who adds in the fillings. Also, it took me a while because I had to click on each emailed order one at a time to read it out to them.

Somewhere around the 12th order I heard the girl behind me let out a big sigh. I glared at her and said "I'm sorry!". But that wasn't good enough. She was like, "Y'know, you coulda just faxed that order in!". I said, "I didn't feel like it, bitch, so fall back!". I must have yelled because the chihuahua she had in her tote bag suddenly popped his head out and growled at me.

So I turned my back on her and continued with my last 6 orders. The line was growing, but at least I was almost done. Then we got up to the register and I realized that I hadn't ordered for myself. By now there was a line of about 20 people, but what can I do about it? I gotta eat!

I had the guy at the register get them to make me up a burrito, and he did, but it must have confused him because he rang up some of my stuff wrong. Also, I needed a few orders of salsa and chips. They put everything in boxes for me, and the supervisor came over to help him ring it up. I counted out all the cash, but was short, so I just paid with my credit card.

As I was leaving the register I turned to notice that everyone in the line was staring at me. These punks got they arms crossed and everything! I said, "Smile, assholes! Jesus loves y'all!" and stormed out the door with my boxes. Goddamn, I hate impatient people!

A not-so-fresh feeling!

I want to congratulate my niece Sarah for winning a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records! They even opened up a new category for "most herring expelled from a single human body"! Good going, Sarah! Your mama will never get that smell out of the drapes!



If anyone wants a souvenir of this historic event, come on down to the fruit stand outside my cousins' farmhouse on Rt. 5! The herrings have been smoked to perfection and are now available for purchase!

Three eligible bachelors!

Attention, single ladies! It's time for my cousins to get married, so I'm putting them on the market! This is a golden opportunity for those of you who say that "all the best men are married"! Y'all gotta admit that Buck, Charles Ray, and Richie are three good lookin' fellas!



They're not just a bunch of pretty faces, either! They're very generous and thoughtful! They're quick to buy round of drinks, and they're always volunteering to drive drunk fellas home from the bar! They're known county-wide for giving aid to hitchhiking run-aways and other wayfaring strangers. And they're considerate enough to orientate all the new prisoners at the regional jail where they work as guards.

During the courtship period you can spend time at the beautiful farmhouse they inherited. These three are very handy, so there have been some notable improvements made to the property. You and the suitor of your choice will enjoy romancing one another in the splendor of the new above-ground pool, soundproof shed, and modified basement. The living room was also recently redecorated with help from The Room Store.

I think I've said enough to get any red-blooded woman's juices flowing! So run, (don't walk!) to the comments section and tell me why you think you'd be right for one of these handsome gents. I'll be screening all applicants, because I'm not trying to introduce them to any weirdos!

Man trouble!

Re'quan had the nerve to break up with me last night! He said he was turned off because I suddenly have a visible STD that he didn't know about. I told him that it's not my fault! My goddamn kids were mad at me, so they hid my Valtrex! Those little creeps are gonna pay for that shit!

It's probably for the best. I was starting to get suspicious of him anyway. Either he or his friend took some money from my purse last week while I was taking a shower. He had somehow convinced me to invite one of his boys from the club over for a 3-way. It wasn't as hot as I'd hoped it would be. At one point I think they forgot I was even there.

The problem with men is, you can't trust them. They follow their base insticts without concern for what's right or wrong. They'll lie to your face. They'll manipulate you. They'll lead you on for weeks, and then just cut out and leave you for the next best thing.

You know, when Re'quan took me to the Red Lobster the other day I was thinking that he really cared about me. I didn't even mind when he left after dinner to hang out with his friends. I figured that any man who would buy me thirty shrimps must be ready to get serious. I was riding high on love and cheddar biscuits.

Now look at me. Taking a damn personal day. It's only 9 in the morning, and I'm already into my first glass of Turning Leaf. I'll probably spend the whole day drinking, eating off this Ben & Jerry's tub, and crying into last month's issue of Bride Magazine. I can't wait for my kids to ask me what's wrong so I can tell them that it's all their fault.

I take care of my kids!

Some people have accused me of neglecting my kids, so I just want to set the record straight. I take care of my kids! And I don't spoil them! Each morning they leave the house for summer school with a clean pair of sweatpants, last night's pajama top, velcro shoes, and a tablespoon full of peanut butter in their mouths. That's a hell of a lot more than I got as a kid!

You got to give your kids what they need, but you can't always give them what they want. Last year, when it was time for new shoes for school, I told the kids to get ready to go to the Payless Shoes. My oldest had the nerve to say, "Momma, I'm not gonna wear no Payless sneakers!". I said, "You're gonna be a little shoeless motherfucka then!". Soon enough I had her in a new pair of Pink Payless velcro sneakers. I would get them the lace ones, but I don't have time to teach them all that foolishness.

Just last month I got a call from the school. My middle child had gotten in trouble for bringing one of my Tampons to show & tell. The teacher tried to prepare me for this revelation, as though I'd be shocked. Well who do you think gave it to him? I even gave him the little instruction pamphlet they come with. So what was the problem? She told me something about it being too early for that kind of sex education. Well what do periods have to do with sex?

Now for my youngest, she's only three. She don't do nothing but sit on the couch and drink sodas. She started that habit when she was teething, because she wanted to get the taste of frozen fish stick out of her mouth. Now she's up to a 3-liter a day! She also gets all the television that a child needs. She falls asleep every night with that damn Court TV blastin' in the background.

I even got those ungrateful kids a pet dog! They were so happy that Christmas, and he didn't cost me anything! He was cute too! Unfortunately we couldn't leave him alone for more than five hours without him shitting in the townhouse. So while they were visting their Grandma on Valentine's day, I was driving an hour to dump this dog out in the middle of the country. I really hope he found a nice home. I could tell that the kids were mad about it, so I put this picture in a frame on the wall for them to remember him by. That's what being a parent is all about.