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.

Girls' night out!

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I'm just tryin' to get mines!

As we all know, the squealing sow gets the grease. I take advantage of that fact, and of the business principle that “the customer is always right”. I also just like to demean people while they're doing their jobs because I know I can get away with it. If I can unload on a total stranger without getting in trouble, and at the same time open up the possibility for some free shit, I’m gonna do it.

Step one is to get their attention, and there’s a real art to it. I’ll demand that a cashier honor my expired coupons. I’ll use the same cup all week to get refills at a fast food place. I’ll let my kids run around screaming and breaking things. And I’ll abuse a 100% satisfaction guarantee 100% of the time.

When the clerk or server gives me even the slightest attitude or resistance I immediately start in with the personal attacks. You'd think this would preclude me from getting anywhere with these businesses, but no. Nine times out of ten, when all is said and done, I get some certificates for free stuff, or a few items taken off my check. Same goes for charges on my phone bill, bank overdraft fees, you name it! Hell, one time I threw a tantrum at the post office just because they wouldn’t sell me any single lickable stamps.

This is my way of demanding the royal treatment. It’s nothing personal. The employees are just pawns in my game. They realize early on that they’re powerless to stop me, and they can’t even give me much in the way of free stuff anyway. All they can do is try to calm me down, take my abuse for as long as they can tolerate it, and try to hold the line.

The trick is to bring the situation to head early on, and before you know it you’ll be talking to a manager. Be calm when you speak to management, and completely misrepresent what just happened between you and the associate. They’ll be all apologies, and start offering you things just to shut you up, or as they put it, “to make up for your inconvenience”. The best luck is usually with chain restaurants and stores. Most small business owners do their own managing. Small businesses are often bleeding money as it is, so they’re cheap. They’re also dicks to unhappy customers because they tend to take every complaint about their business personally.

Earlier this month, after cashing my child support check, I decided to take the kids to a Mexican restaurant. My oldest ordered a plate of nachos, and the rest of us ordered combination platters. When we were getting near done eating I looked over our plates to see what I’d be able to get taken off the check. The nachos were eaten down to near the bottom of the plate, and I noticed that the heat and cheese had made some of the bottom chips soggy. I got these motherfuckas!

When the man came to offer us dessert I pointed out that my baby got soggy nachos, and that we would like that removed from the check. He said something about the nature of nacho plates, but I cut him short by loudly reminding him that I was not born yesterday. He began to open his mouth again, but I interrupted him before he started. I hit him with a one of my classic obscenity-laden insults. He glared for a moment, then stormed off silently to get the manager.

When the manager showed up I calmly told him that the waiter had brought us dirty glasses and silverware. I also told him that we had complained about the nachos as soon as they were served and that the waiter had done nothing. The manager was all apologies. He advised us that the nachos and our drinks would be taken off the bill. That worked for me, because those Cadillac margaritas were expensive!

We waited for the check after he walked away, and soon we could hear the waiter getting a stern talking-to at the back of the restaurant. The red-faced waiter then returned and silently tossed the check on the table and walked away. Was that so hard? It felt good to leave him a two dollar tip. He earned it by taking it like a man! Of course my kids got mad at me because I “always embarrass them in public”. They don’t realize what it takes to be a single mom these days.

Chicken Box: Worth the hype?

They say:

"The Second Best Thing You Ever Ate!" (actual slogan)

Well I'll be the judge of that! On Saturday the kids and I visited "Chicken Box", located in beautiful Highland Park (on the north side of the Shockoe Valley from downtown). They operate out of the quaint, old fashioned building you see here:



Business was brisk when we arrived for lunch at noon. We went to the far wall to make our choices from the greasy menu. Offerings include the "Big Chick Sandwich", "Chicken Chunks", Fries, Chicken Wings, Fried Flounder, Lake Trout, oysters, crabcake, mac n cheese, french fries, macaroni salad, and cole slaw. We each went with the "Big Chick Sandwich" with cheese, an enticing combination of lettuce, "Big Chick" sauce, American cheese, and two large pieces of fried chicken. Extra sides of "Big Chick" sauce are available for just $1.83.

I placed our order through a circle of drill holes in the bulletproof glass. I handed the payment and a coupon through the shallow dish where the counter meets the glass, and we stepped aside. This establishment is waiting-room only, and a little crowded, so we headed outside as soon as our bag was handed to us through the small 45 degree rotating glass door on the counter.

We ended up eating outside in the van, and everyone was very satisfied with the meal. The bread was soft and tasty, and the lettuce was light and crisp. The "Big Chick" sauce is some kind of secret recipe, and it compliments the meal wonderfully. If I had to guess I'd say that it was mayonnaise and hot sauce mixed together. The American cheese was tangy and waxy. The fried chicken was generously portioned and perfectly overcooked.



There was even some drama while we waited for our food. A crazed woman came in yelling though the drill holes to the employees talking about, "which one of y'all called my daughter a "b"?". She said it just like that, because she was trying not to offend the other customers. She was referring to some incident from the day before. The employees claimed that her daughter had overheard them, but that they had been talking about someone else. The angry woman proceeded to read them the riot act. Then she ordered some Chicken chunks with fries.

In conclusion, you can have your nasty-ass Ukrop's fried chicken. In my opinion, Chicken Box is the source for fine fried chicken take-out in the Richmond area. It's the kind of no nonsense, no website, one menu on the wall kind of place that we all love. Was it "The Second Best Thing You Ever Ate!"? Yes! Do you know what the First best thing you ever ate was? The answer comes back again and again: deez nuts!


Where it's at:



3000 3rd Ave
Richmond, VA 23222
(804) 228-2442

Chicken Box on Google Maps (with Street View)

Real Small FArt!

"What is it? Real Small FArt League is an ongoing public fart project to inspire random acts of fartistic rudeness. A growing number of fartists are committed to leaving ass gas in surprise locations. A little work of fart can go a long way!"

This is such a fun group to belong to! Today you can find one of my works of fart lingering in the last booth of Chiocca's Downstairs Deli and Bar. This was only my second public work of fart. Last Sunday I managed to leave a bad one at the entrance to Buzz n' Neds around lunch time!

You should give it a try! Even celebrities are getting in on the fun!

Check out Lily Allen! She's loud and proud!

Exercise your right to smoke!

It's time for us smokers to really take a stand, and start exercising the few remaining rights we have. I remember as a girl, my dad could chain-smoke while grocery shopping, sitting though an hour-long flight, or even pumping gas. He could even flick lit butts out of the window in the middle of Autumn! These days, the options are limited for Virginia smokers (and they call this a tobacco state!)

Of course we can generally smoke outside as long as it isn't near flammable fumes, but what fun is that? I prefer the glamour of enjoying a nice long generic cigarette in a closed public setting. There's nothing more satisfying than walking into a bar full of folks who aren't smoking and whipping out a pack of "Basics" for all to see. It's empowering to watch the other patron's expressions change as I send the smell of smoldering wigs and toasted body odor into their clothes, hair, and faces.

It would be unfair to myself to feel self-conscious about this. I'm in a smoking section, and it's within my rights! Remember, we smokers are still the favored restaurant customers. We're less insistent, because we've got an appetite suppressant hanging out of our mouths. Also, they really appreciate the way some of us tip with loose cigarettes, since we know that every server out there smokes too.

There's many subtle ways to let the non-smokers know that we're still in control. Up to 80% of taste is smell. So it's your duty to light one the moment that a customer next to you at the bar or nearby table is served a delicious meal, or a tasty, expensive drink. As they eat and drink, they'll realize that it all tastes like cigarette smoke. How's that fine brewski and steak? Ha! What do I care? I'm drinking a flavorless Bud Light!

Always smoke multiple cigarettes simultaneously when the table next to you is seated with children. My rule of thumbs is to enjoy one cigarette as usual, plus one additional cigarette for every kid at the table. Of course a family might be seated away from you in a non-smoking area. Consider it a challenge to blow your smoke over into their section, or to simply "fishbowl" the smoking area to the point that the smoke will inevitably drift into the non-smoking area.

Remember to always walk into an place smoking, and to walk out of a place smoking. Be sure to leave one smoldering in the ashtray whenever you are speaking, sipping, visiting the restroom, or heading across the room to chat with friends. Everyone will start to associate you with liberty, and cheap, pungent smoke!

If some inconsiderate non-smoking server fails to bring you an ashtray after your meal, go ahead and put the butt out on your plate. Repeat as often as possible, and don't leave a tip. This is just one more way us smokers can draw the line!

Finally, there's the bar/concert venue. Many new venues are non-smoking, which is wrong. But for those that are left, I encourage you to go. Blow your smoke into the hair of the people in front of you, and "accidentally" burn someones elbow on occasion. Leave a pile of 30 or more butts at your feet for the venue's employees to sweep up. It's also nice to flick a couple at the band, to show that you appreciate their efforts.

We all know that rights can be lost forever if we don't exercise them. If we smokers can truly band together and take back our rights, we'll be back to smoking in the bank, the Kmart, and dentist's chair in no time! Patriots, unite!

Saturday Eye Candy!

My taste in men may differ from y'alls.

Sometimes I just prefer a real man! And I love food play!

Mickey Rourke, eat your heart out!

It's my choice to have a skinny baby!

If our secretary doesn't watch her mouth it's gonna get slapped! Today she called me out in front of two other people about my smoking. I knew it was a mistake to tell my damn co-workers that I'm pregnant again. I took a break for a smoke at 8:45. I swear, as soon as I walked in from my break that bitch was running her mouth.

She was going on and on about how I was smoking when I pulled my car into the lot this morning, and how I had another one at the smoker's tent before going inside to punch in for my shift at 8. Well I'm sorry, but with the mental stress and morning sickness, I need a goddamn cigarette! What I don't need is some judgemental bitch running her mouth at me about it!

Then the others started getting on me about it, like that ho Shirl, who thought she would add that smoking causes low birth weight. Well you know what, bitch? I already knew that! How do you think I've kept my figure after having 3 kids? I have skinny babies, that's how!

I didn't tell them this, but I drink during pregnancy too! You should come by our community pool sometime. Thanks to their webbed toes, my kids can swim like a motherfucka!

You know, the only downside to smoking during pregnancy is that the babies are all angry with nic fits after they're born. I wish to god they'd make a nicotine patch for infants!

Ellwood Thompson's customers look unhealthy!

Sometimes I like to get my movies at the Blockbusters in Carytown, even though they almost never have what I came for. Everyone gets pissed while I hold up the line, having the clerk look through all the recently returned movies for the ones I want.

While I'm there I sometimes go to Ellwood Thompson's to pick up a beer or some dessert from the deli area. That place is a racket! People in front of me in line are running up 60 to 80 dollar receipts for a half bag of groceries (and "supplements"). A can of tuna for $3? I guess it's more dolphin safe, or whatever, and probably more healthy than the fishsticks I eat for lunch.

What I don't get is, how come most of the people who I see shopping in there look malnourished? I'm talking sunken eyes, stringy hair, pale or blotchy skin, and all that. I swear, it's like the number one grocery store for spooky old ghost ladies. I'm downright terrified to shop for groceries there. And not just because they don't offer a loaf of bread for under $4.99.

Meanwhile, my kids are the picture of health, and I do most of my shopping for them at the Wonderbread outlet and the dollar store. It's mostly prepackaged junk, and canned foods with made-up brand names you've never heard of. But I'll be damned if my kids and I don't have nice skin, healthy gums, and shiny, lustrous coats of hair on our heads!

So anyway, last night me and the kids watched Norbit. In case you don't already know, it's terrible. The mini Chips Ahoy that we ate were good, though. And we shared a can of Island Delight pineapple chunks.

How Jocelyn got her groove back!

When my ex-husband Kevin left us he said it was because I was too jealous and I was always yelling at him. The only time I "yelled" at him was when he'd pick me up the wrong kind of maxi pads or hairspray from the store. Just those important things that he would remember about me, if he cared.

But the real reason he left is because I knew that bastard was cheating! I'd always catch him coming home from work 10 minutes later than necessary, and he'd be on the phone with his "friends" on his way home when I was calling to find out what was taking so long. He would always be talking to me about the bitches at work, or on the TV, and I'd be like, "are you sleeping with her?". He'd always get so indignant that I just knew he was lying!

I got a lawyer to take care of him. He even has to send the child support check through the lawyer, rather mailing it, or coming by to deliver it. He barely ever gets to see the kids, and the only time he sees me is when I'm driving by his crappy efficiency apartment (in his Mercury). Take that, asshole!

So anyway, I've been back on the market, and things have been going really good. Since the townhouse is paid for I can use most of the support checks on new clothes, hair and nails. So I've been looking good at the clubs, and I think I already found myself a new man!

His name is Re'quan! He's a nude dancer, and he is as fine as he can be! And he's crazy about me! He keeps his hair so nice for me, and he wears the most elegant clothes and shoes. Sometimes I have to wait until 3 in the morning for him to get home from the club, because he and the other dancers take so long showering and grooming themselves after the show.

I work during the day, and that man waits on my couch all day for me to get home! The only time he's out of my sight is when he hangs out with his male friends. In fact, he shows almost no interest in other women! I feel so secure with this man, I trust him with everything. I even take the van to work sometimes so he can use the Mercury during the day to run his errands!

Of course sometimes I think I'm getting ahead of myself. So I make sure he's out of the house before my mom drops the kids off. I'll introduce them to him when I think our relationship is truly ready. In the meantime, I'm gonna keep it on the downlow.

Mind your own business!

I can't believe what this bitch just said to me!

Our office is small, so our breakroom is nothing but a coffee machine and a microwave next to a sink, set towards the side of the main office space. We don't even have a fridgerator. The downside is that everyone has to smell popcorn or whatever else other people cook.

So I took my lunch break early today, around 11, and I'm over at the microwave heating up some fish sticks. They take a while because they were still a little frozen in the middle, and I like them crispy. Well the fans in the microwave blow the smell all over the office in no time.

Our front desk secretary Sarah came up to me and asked me if there was something less smelly I could make for lunch. She acted like she was joking, but I don't appreciate that shit. I told that bitch that it ain't my problem that we don't have a seperate breakroom! Then I told her about how everyone knows that she eats tuna mixed with plain yogurt every day. It gives her gas and she ends up farting in the copy room or behind the filing cabinets. That's damn sure worse than my weekly fish sticks!

I think she's probably still mad because of last week. I had given her some money to pay for my Chinese food delivery while I was in a meeting. The driver gave her hell because I had only given her enough money for the sesame chicken and crab rangoons, and he wanted a tip. She even had the nerve to knock on the meeting room door to ask me for tip money. I told her that I'm sorry, but that's all the money I got! Damn!

Ooh, Puffy, you nasty! With your fine self!

My man Puffy is at it again, turning us on with his nasty talk!

“Then I'll have a manicure and pedicure – and yes, I wax as well. Men owe it to women to make sure they are well-groomed.”

“I wax my privates. I also wear my fragrance, Unforgivable Black.”

That man knows how to keep a woman happy! These hairy fools out there could learn a thing or two from this classy and talented gentleman!

Of course it's up to us women to keep our men happy! And as you probably know, men like their women the way they like their yogurt: With the fruit on the bottom! That's why it's important for us to keep that ass fat! Head to McDonald's on that snack break! You and your man will be glad you did!

Just look how happy he is!

Quit ridin' my tail!

Have you all noticed how road rage is all too common around here? Sometimes when I’m driving my ex-husbands Mercury Cougar down I-64 I see the rudest drivers you could imagine.

If you know me, then you know that I always keep to the fast lane. There’s less activity there and I don’t want to get in an accident. I can’t deal with all that merging and other nonsense when I’m trying to drive and use my phone. Those two right lanes start to slow down occasionally, and I don’t need that. But then I get these people coming too close up behind me, and they’re flashing their headlights at me and whatever. You know what I’m talking about.

Look, y’all, I’m going the speed limit, just like all the cars next to us, so don’t blame me! I look in my rear view mirror and see their hand motions and ugly expressions, like they want me to get out of the way. I pay my taxes, and I’ll drive in whatever lane I want! When they get too close I’ll even resort to tapping my breaks and waving my finger so they can see it through my rear window. You wouldn’t believe the looks I get when they get their chance to pass me on the right! You bastards shouldn’t be speeding anyway! I’m doing you a favor, and saving you from getting a ticket! I swear, y’all need some damn house training!

Activia is fuel for a powerful woman's movement!

I gotta say, Jamie Lee was right!

Activia has a very happy ending!



It's a very loooooooong ending, too!

before


after


Every time I flush it's like a spirograph in there!

I'll stop now, before I say something nasty!

Oh haaaaaaaaail no!

I'm a strong woman for the Hillary Clinton campaign! I can't stand all this pro-Obama foolishness! I did like what Obama had to say recently about black fathers. I just hope he doesn't tell us mothers how to raise our kids!

Anyway, here's a video from local Obama supporter and fool Jerome Henderson.

This is why I'm hot!

Mother Leaves Children In Hot Car To Read Magazines In Supermarket

Y'all pay attention. You can't just leave your kids in the daytime heat during the summer. It'll kill them. Same goes for dogs. That's why I only leave my kids in the minivan at night, when I'm drinking. And I park the van behind the bar, so nobody can hear them crying and carrying on! Also, I tell them to hide under some of the rubbish in the back seat.

Making me sick!

These baby fashions have gone too far. First they have those $100 sneakers for little boys, and now they've come out with these whore shoes for baby girls!

Between the bikini tops for infants, and these nasty shoes, I just hate y'all!

http://www.heelarious.com/