Take Your Top Off

Let me first start off by wishing everyone a most happy Halloween! I hope that you get to eat lots of
candy tonight!

Now, let’s move onto bigger, more important topics:

I hate that Joe’s Crab Shack commercial for…you know what, I don’t even know what they are advertising. At any rate, in this commercial, the waiter brings out these dudes’ and dudette’s plates of food and this wise guy hollers to the chick, “Take your top off!” She looks at him as to say, “WTF?!” And he repeats, “Take your top off!” Oh, right, hahaha, the comment is regarding the plate cover! Oh, I get it! How hilarious! NOT. How stupid. You know what this commercial puts me in mind of? Creepy dudes. Yes, this commercial is like when a creepy dude who is your “friend” says something to you that could be a joke, but you’re not really sure if it is a joke, and if you were to take it seriously, he’d totally be bout it bout it (yes, that is a Master P reference, I wonder if I used it correctly). For example, say you are sitting around in class and this creepster starts laughing and says to you, “You know what would be great? Oh, this would be hilarious. What if we made out and told people we were dating!?” And the creepster totally wants to make out but he says it this way because you will most likely reject him. Anyway, I hate that commercial.

Do you watch New Girl? If you don’t, you should. It is hilarious. Schmidt is the funniest character. I
hadn’t watched a single episode of the current season until Saturday morning. I had a mini-marathon.
Well, in one episode I watched, Nick was asking Schmidt if he believed in time travel, and if he (Nick)

knew how he (Schmidt) was going to die, would he (Schmidt) want to know. To which Schmidt replied that he already knew how he was going to die---one of his moles was going to kill him. This cracked me up because I also think that I will also be murdered by one of my moles. I get them checked at the dermatologist, but I just know one of these bastards is going to kill me someday. I hope Julian and Jonas are spared the Cornett moles, but they probably won’t be.

If I am not taken out by a mole, it’ll probably be by some un-secured piece of junk flying off the back of someone’s truck or car roof. I have a great fear of this. I know Codar finds this fear of mine hilarious, and has been known to make me watch YouTube videos of crap flying off of trucks and killing innocent bystanders. Why, Codar, why? I avoid cars and trucks that haul stuff. I pass them on the interstate. I go incredibly slow and let them get really far ahead of me in instances where passing is not an option (i.e., southeastern Kentucky). I mean, can you really trust that the redneck in front of you hauling his queen-sized mattress on the top of his corolla really locked down his cargo with that one piece of twine? No, thank you. I’m passing that fool.

I cannot see an “Inspected by ##” sticker on my clothes without thinking of Little Pete from the

Adventures of Pete and Pete. That is all.

Happy Halloween, Great Grandsons

Julian & Jonas got a few Halloween cards in the mail--from Aunt Boomer, Aunt Von, Grandma Connie & Grandpa Luke, & Great Grandma Alice (aka Beetle). All of them were special, but I have to say Beetle's was extra special. Check out her little note: "Love you to the moon and back again!"

2 days til Halloween

In 2 days, little spooks will be parading around WW looking for some candy. I can't wait to kick back and check out all of the costumes. However, I am not looking forward to the awful weather we're supposed to have (rainy and 40s). Ugh, maybe I should hand out warm apple cider instead of kit-kats and twizlers. That reminds me of my ole Uncle Alvin. He used to hand out Pepsi Colas at trick-or-treat. Said that when he was a kid, he'd always eat his candy while he went door to door, and he'd get thirsty and want a pop. I guess he reckons other little fellers do the same thing. I always hoarded my candy until I got home. Then I'd dump it all out and separate it into piles. Bubble gum, candy bars, crappy candy, and Mommaw's candy (Mommaw--the only person alive that actually liked that peanut butter taffy...you know, that sick candy that came in the orange and black wrappers). Oh, and I'd also have to pick out the Bit-O-Honey and peanut butter logs for Dad. I never liked any of that old people candy anyhow.

"What did I do to make you not love me?"

My babies are so cute. Yesterday, I took the most awesome guilt-trip inducing picture of Julian ever. I plan to use it against Boomer as often as possible. I will send this glorious photo along with captions such as, "When are you going to come visit me, Aunt Boomer?" and "Why don't you love me anymore, Aunt Boomer?" So much fun I shall have with my little picture.

Could someone please tell me what on earth is wrong with these yahoos reporting on Hurricane Sandy? Why would you want to hang out in front of the ocean when there is a hurricane hitting the coast? I hope they get paid well.

Halloween, Halloween. Oh, What Funny Things Are Seen.

Do you dudes who went to the great Robinson Elementary remember that song? Reflect back to Mrs. Crowe clapping her hands and singing, "Halloween. Halloween. Oh, what funny things are seen!" It just occurred to me that Mrs. Crowe and Sally Brown had the same hairdo. If only I would've realized this in grade school, I could've made it my mission in life to only converse with Mrs. Crowe in Sally Brown quotes. Of course, that poor woman didn't need anyone else tormenting her. What, with the constant caw-caw-cawing she heard. The mocking of her infamous hand clap. And the way her students changed the words of songs to make them vulgar. Ah, grade school music class. I learned a lot in that class. Like the following rhyme/song from Booter:

Hooker Baker the undertaker wiped his butt with a cigarette paper. Paper too thin, finger slipped in, poor ole Hooker Baker.

Good times. Good nog.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a brief tangent:

Why are people hateful? It takes so much more energy to be a Debbie Downer. Cheer the heck up, Buttercup! Listen to Mary J.--no more drama! When you are a hag, no one wants to be your friend. Remember that. Write it down. Take a picture.

And now, back to the show!

So, Halloween is one week away! Hooray! I have watched It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Young Frankenstein, and Hocus Pocus. Therefore, Halloween can come. Though I have yet to eat a caramel apple, I did purchase some and will eat one in the immediate future. I have made a batch of caramel popcorn and a batch of Grandma Cleon's chex mix. Oh, the end of the year is so joyous! Halloween, Thanksgiving, CHRISTMAS! 61 days til Christmas, people! Hang up your stockings, cause Santa's on his way.

Long Hair

Julian playing long hair.

"Give me a girl with hair, long beautiful hair!" When my mother and Aunt Kathy were little girls, they liked to play a game called Long Hair. In this game, they would put a shirt on their head and pretend that the shirt was their long flowing locks. I played the same game. Now, my boys are long hair champions!

I am never going to stop loving that NFL mobile commercial with the nerd. You know, the one who, when his co-workers were talking about last night's football game, says, "Awesome game last night." And then his friends are like, "We got killed!" Reminds me so much of when Dacian thought Peyton Manning played for the Bengals.

My awesome cat nightgown.

Doug doesn't dig my Grandma nightgown. I don't know why. It is so warm and cozy! Cotton, long sleeved, muted pink, little embroidered flowers, length to the knee. Downright adorable! He does, however, enjoy my humorous cat nightgowns, of which I have plenty. Sometimes, I am driven to mad fits of rage when I sleep in those cat gowns. They are so huge that the shirts wrap around me a couple times, and I somehow manage to pin myself down with my gown at night, if that makes any sense. I try to move, but I am trapped in my own gown. These are the problems I face, people.

Fists must taste really good because Jules and Jonas can't get enough of them. Nom nom nom.

In other news, I like to put ice in my milk, that goes for chocolate milk, too. I also like to blow bubbles in my chocolate milk, but never my white milk. The more you know!

Take My Breath Away

Julian & Pauline's Claws

Tuesday, while I was at home with the boys, there was a knock at my door. Who on earth would that be? The only people who visit me during the day are Jovita and Carol, and they never use the front door. I put Jules in the pack-n-play with his little bro, and went to answer the door. It was Pauline, a friend and tenant (of 28 years) of Carol's. Pauline is 79 years young and hysterical. No matter what outfit she has on, she is always sporting bright red lipstick and matching red fingernails, very long fingernails to boot. On this day, she even had on leopard print flats. I invited Pauline in to visit a while with the boys and me.

"Oh, those cats are pretty! How do you get them so healthy? I have adopted Carol's cat, Artemis, Artie is what I call her, but she is a skinny little thing. I've been renting from Carol for 28 years. I was going to move once, down to the Lady's Home, but they told me I couldn't bring my kitty cat. So, I told them I wasn't moving. Where's that big cat of yours? I saw him the other day when I was here. Oh, there he is. That is a big cat. He is beautiful! What's his name?" 

His name is Yoshi.

Vicious Yoshi aka Doshi

"Doshi? Oh, Doshi! There was a lot of Doshis down in Kentucky where I am from. My Mother used to have a water pitcher that she called her Doshi pitcher. It had the face of a woman painted on it. Ha ha! Doshi. What a good name!"

Do you want to come in and see the babies?

"Oh, my! Beautiful boys! I was just down here last week, but I think they've gotten bigger since then. For the longest time Carol and Joann would go on and on about 'the twins' and I had no idea who they were talking about, and finally I just asked, 'Joann, who's these twins you keep talking about?' And she told me, 'Doug and his wife had twins!' They sure are pretty. Now, you don't let the cats in here with them, do you? I'm from way down in Kentucky and I know what cats do to babies--they take their breath away! Mommy never let the cats stay in the house with us, and I never let cats around my babies. I've always had a cat,though. When I was a young girl, around 15, I fell asleep on a blanket outside. When I woke up, I could hardly breathe, and wouldn't you know, there was a cat sitting on my chest! Don't let those cats in there with the babies."

The Hardest Button to Button

It is my belief that Jack White wrote, "The Hardest Button to Button" after trying to button a 3 month old's sleeper in the middle of the night after changing a diaper.

Today on my way home from work, I saw a guy pushing a stroller on the sidewalk in the lovely town of Covington. As I got closer to him, I noticed that his baby was actually several cases of Monster energy drinks. This reminds me of a time Doogie and I were driving down the same street and saw a woman pushing a stroller; her baby turned out to be a car battery. What?

Well, tonight, children, I have watched too many scary shows. I told myself that I was done with these creepy shows, and that I was only going to watch shows that make me happy. And now I've sat here and watched hours of True Blood and American Horror Story. True Blood may not be scary as you are watching it, but I am here to tell you that it makes you have strange vampire dreams. I am not interested in having dreams about crazy, demented murderers, vampires, werewolves, wack-job nuns, and evil Farmer Hoggetts. But, I fear it is going to happen tonight.

Good news about watching scary shows on FX: I saw a promo for the new season of Justified! Holler! My life is in need of some Boyd Crowder.

Do you ever wonder how it is that out of the 311 million or so Americans we got stuck with 2 bozos to choose from for the presidency? Sometimes I feel ashamed of myself for not caring or keeping up with politics. I mean, look at all the men and women who fought throughout history just so I could have the right to vote, and here I don't care one lick about who wins the election. I'm so disinterested that I don't even want to vote (but I will, of course). I need to at least visit the candidates' websites and read up on them. I don't get much from the debates; they are too uncomfortable for me to watch. Watching the debates is like watching an episode of The Office. I just feel so uncomfortable.

In other news, I was reminded this week that I am an old southern woman and I say things that confuse city folk. No one knows what a buggy is (a shopping cart). And people look at me like I'm a nut when I ask about their druthers. Allison Jones, confusing folks since 1983.

They (FX television network) need to stop showing that damn preview for Paranormal Activity 4. It is midnight. It is dark. Everyone is asleep but me. I don't like seeing chicks flying above their bed due to supernatural forces while I'm sitting here in my century-old house (you know, the type of house that is always haunted) all alone in the dark. Not cool, people. Not cool.

Did I mention everyone is asleep? I better go to bed before the little dudes wake up!