Remember When (Warning: Strong Language)

"Hey, Carol, bring us back some good-looking firemen!"

Remember when we wrote that rap song, Kitty in a Basket? We still need to make our music video and drop that joint!

Remember that time Carol dressed up like Cupid and upon request, brought back Fire Fighters to join the party?

Remember when we found out books suck ass?!?

Remember when we got a little carried away with the tequila in my pantry and ended up singing Bocephus at the top of our lungs whilst dancing?

Remember when you force fed that cupcake to Kevy? The same night he played Edward 40 hands and everyone refused to help him pee.

Remember the first time we watched Thankskilling? "Nice tits, bitch!"

Remember when BC ran away and I sunk into a deep, deep depression?

New Year's Eve 2010.

Remember when I nearly broke my toe pretending to sunbathe like a lizard in the pool in Mexico?

Remember when we went to that kick ass Styx concert?

Speaking of concerts, remember, "Take a picture of me and my bitches!"

Remember the Bacon King and all of our NYE shenanigans?

Hey, remember that time when we were in the Frisch's drive-thru and that woman tried to cut us off, and you almost cut her?

Remember the best fortune in a fortune cookie EVER? "What's that in your eye? A sparkle!"

Remember when I told you I was having twins? "YOU'RE SHITTIN' ME!"

If only we would've recorded the great Marty fiasco.
We'd be YouTube celebrities, for sure.

Oh, oh, remember when Marty drove ole dude's boat into the dock? "I'll tell you why he did it, he's high, that's why!"

Remember when I almost broke my neck trying to do a front flip onto the bed on the cruise ship?

Remember the Marie Antoinette doll?

Ahhh. Those are fun memories.

Lt. Dan, Ice Cream. Lt. Dan, Iiiiice Cream

Butter pecan, my favorite!

I'm glad Doug wasn't up here just now to see me lick chocolate off of my shirt. He told me earlier today that I had enough ice cream bar sticks on my nightstand to build a cabin. I can't help it that Haagen-Dazs makes a mighty fine chocolate-almond crunch ice cream bar, can I? I mean, who wouldn't want to lick that off a shirt? Give me a break, dude.

My nightly ice cream bar reminds me of my Pappaw and old Barksdale Cornett (the family dog, as you recall). When he wasn't enjoying a big tub of popcorn**, Pap

Pappaw's college yearbook photo.

delighted in a eating a cup of ice cream. After he had polished it off, he'd let Barksdale lick the cup. A match made in Heaven. In fact, I bet they're up in Heaven right now, maybe even sharing some butter pecan.

Speaking of butter pecan, I may have shared this story with you before, but one of my favorite memories of my Pappaw involved a trip to Lexington and a stop at Baskin Robbins. Now, we didn't have any ice cream shops in Dwarf, so when I was presented with the opportunity to pick from all those delicious-looking flavors of ice cream, I went wild. However, I was a dumb kid, and I chose bubblegum ice cream. It was pink and had pink chiclets buried inside. Also, it was inedible. I took one bite of that sickness and immediately knew that I had made a horrible, disgusting decision. Pappaw must've seen the sadness in my eyes because he asked me if I wanted to switch ice creams. What a man! He forced that bubblegum crap down while I enjoyed his delicious scoop of butter pecan.

**I can't wait until the dudes are old enough to eat popcorn. We'll eat it every night! Oh, how I loved staying all night with Mommaw and Pappaw! I knew as soon as Wheel of Fortune came on, Pap would be in the kitchen making a giant bowl of popcorn (always making sure I got my portion in a special bowl). Mmm I can smell it now.

The Zoo

On Friday, the boys took their very first trip to the zoo! We had such a wonderful time (save for the long commute there thanks to Cincinnati construction and the trying to fit my large van into a very small parking space)! The zoo babies were out in full force. The cutest, of course, was Gladys the 3-month old gorilla. The coolest part of seeing Gladys was watching her surrogate interact with her. Oh, why can't I be a monkey's mommy for a living? Gladys was born in a zoo in Texas, but her Gorilla Mother rejected her (poor baby), and so now she lives at the Cincinnati zoo where a team of humans don vests of fur and black clothing and teach her the ways of the gorilla, at least  until she is big enough to join the rest of the gorilla crew. Why wasn't I a zoologist?

While we were checking out Gladys and her surrogate mother, Brittany was watching another

extraordinary scene: an elderly lady on a rascal driving literally up a wall. Her rascal was on two wheels as she tried to bypass the Gladys crowd and make her way past the gorillas. I am telling you people, the woman was dead on Dr. Nefario from Despicable Me.

Also, while we're talking about the zoo, can I just ask--what the heck is up with people's zoo attire? Why, I thought a plain ole t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, maybe a Reds ballcap to block the sun would do. No sir. These people are plumb goofy. Belly shirts and hippie skirts (on hippies, so don't get excited fellas). Black lace dresses with pink tights and high heels. And, hand to god, a mint green prom dress. Bewildered.

Moving on...
Doug took his last ever law school final last night and on Saturday he graduates! Woohoo!! Law school is finally over! However, now it's time to study for the bar. So, come visit me anytime starting now through Aug 3, as the boys and I will be all alone, as our beloved Doogie will be non-existent to us (aka holed up in the garage using every "free" minute to study). This should be fun.

I loved this bear. I wanted to snuggle him. That would have
ended badly for me.

Random:
You know what I like? I like that Coke commercial with the hidden camera. You know, the one where they show feed from the security camera of people being nice, fun, loving, happy people. I like that. Watching people sneak a smooch, hug a buddy, dance. We all need more fun in our lives. Yeah, yeah, so big brother is watching us. Whatever. Don't ruin the moment.

Basketball Jones and the Aquarium

I tried to capture the Ale 8 sign (that yellow blur)

Well, despite the 30-point whomping by Tennessee and the season-ending injury poor Noel sustained against Florida, I still made the trip to Lexington to see my beloved Wildcats take on Vandy (like there was ever any doubt I would go). Rupp was rocking! It was a rowdy bunch, desperate to see a win. There was lots of cheering and some booing and some cussing and even some laughing (once at the referee who fell while trying to run down the court). There was also dancing. Big Bertha (the Rupp Arena sound system) was blasting some song about Wobbling (I just tried to google the song title but I don't know enough about the song to determine which is the correct title; there is something called Wobble Baby, maybe that's it). Anyhow, the wobble song was playing, the student section was dancing, the cheerleaders were getting down, and the old woman behind me said, "This song makes me want to shake it." I love going to UK basketball games. Makes me so happy.

On the way back to the car after the game, karma got me (remember when I laughed at that old guy who fell in the mudhole), or maybe it was just me being me, Grace Jones. Anyway, I bit the dust and my body hit the pavement as I tripped on an invisible line and fell in the middle of the sidewalk. Nice. At least no one laughed at me.

Back in the car, my scraped knee was forgotten when TBo and I began to reminisce about the classic movie Space Jams and its awesome soundtrack. I confessed to her that I indeed owned both the movie and the soundtrack. That I often times serenaded Ben Affleck, who was plastered on my wall, with that Monica tune from said soundtrack (For You I Will). And that I also pretended that I could actually play basketball and that Basketball Jones was written for me. God, I was so cool back in the 90s.

You know, I think the Space Jams soundtrack was one of my very first CDs. I got a CD player for Christmas when I was in 6th grade, and with it, my first few CDs, which were: Foghat Greatest Hits, Lynyrd Skynyrd Greatest Hits, and Bob Dylan Highway 61 Revisited. Yes, I was 12. And, I had no clue who Foghat was.

Back to the UK game, Jorts was the Y. I like how they put him up on the big screen at Rupp and under his image wrote, "Josh Harrellson, Former UK Basketball Player." DUH! Good grief. We are at Rupp Arena. I'm pretty sure everyone knows who Jorts is.

Big boys. Big boy stroller. Big penguin.

Anyway, so, I took the boys to the aquarium today! Hooray! This was their first official outing/activity/play date. Sure we've been to stores and restaurants (read: Target, Sam's, and Mi Tierra), but I've never taken them anywhere just for their entertainment. We met Cathy and Seth there. We were supposed to meet at 10, but naturally, we were late. People, I am telling you, it is hard work getting those little goomers and everything they need loaded up! We also busted out the new stroller, the big boy stroller, the city mini double. Oooh yeah! They were riding in style today. I do reckon they enjoyed themselves at the aquarium. True, they don't even know what the hell a fish is, but you know, they were happy happy and smiling and checking out their surroundings and being suave little dudes. We'll be going back soon, friends. Plus, they totally get in free. Score!

At the aquarium, we saw a gigantic alligator named Mike. He was 15 ft long. Is that really necessary? A 15 ft long alligator. Good grief. I'm probably going to have nightmares tonight. And you know, they play some pretty creepy music when you walk through the alligator and crocodile rooms. It reminded me of the sort of tunes they play on True Blood. I half expected ole Bill Compton to hop out at any minute and see what was up.

After we cruised through the aquarium, we headed back to our house for lunch and KING CAKE. Oh, how I love King Cake. Have you had it before? It is a Mardi Gras tradition (let wikipedia tell you all about it--click here). I, personally, want to thank my friend Sarah for introducing me to this lovely pastry. For it is heaven in cake form. It is a giant cinnamon donut stuffed with cream cheese and covered in sugar of all sorts. Please, order yourself a King Cake from Rouses Markets. They're dope.

A pretty good couple of days if I do say so myself.

I love these dudes.

Important Things

It is important:

I see a lot of Rice Krispie treats in their future.

To always have fixings for rice krispie treats in your pantry.

To note that eating >1 100 calorie pack treat is defeating the purpose.

To remember that if you are not a scoring threat, be a defensive monster. Continue to block jokers even with 4 fouls and make them wish they never met you. Seriously, 12 blocks in 1 game! My love for Nerlens Noel continues to grow.

To send your mother cards just to say hello. 

Talking with my mother today, she told me she came across a card I sent her when I was a freshman in college. The contents of this card: Eller had her butt slapped by Ernesto. I spilled my 7-up in the middle of Commons Cafeteria (figures). I was being stalked by some feller with taggy, stringy hair and cheese puff residue in his teeth. (Ryan was his name. Eller said he took the effing cake. After she said that, I laughed so hard that I fell to the ground. You just had to be there, I reckon.) Lastly, I had run into Cliff Hawkins on my way to class.

To help the Children's Home with Kelli and me!

Because helping the Children's Home during Christmas was so rewarding for us, Kelli and I decided to   continue to donate year round. Month 1 donations: Super Bowl Party Treats! Together we bought for 35 children and 15 adult supervisors. Working with our $230 budget (thanks to Tyler and Anne-Marie for contributing to our fund), we hit up Kroger and Sam's and were able to purchase party food fit for a king: chips, dip, salami, crackers, salsa, skyline chili dip fixings, potato skins, mozzarella sticks, pop, wings, jalapeno poppers, cookies, and donuts! So awesome to be able to get such a spread for the kids. I hope that they have a fabulous party!

We will be doing something every month throughout this year (and probably forever). So, let me know if you're ever feeling charitable! Next up: Valentine's Day goodies!

On the Playground

I had PBS on this morning for the little dudes, and the Cat in the Hat was talking about teeter-totters. This brought terrifying recollections of late 80s-early 90s playgrounds to mind. Do you remember the death traps we were sent to play on? Let's talk about this for a moment.

The teeter-totter. This was perhaps the most frightening piece of playground equipment for me. The level of fear it evoked depended upon my teeter-totter partner. Seesawing could be an absolute blast if, say, I was playing with my best pal, Eller. I could laugh and fly through the air without anxiety. However, change my partner to my cousin John, and the fun was replaced by terror. I knew that at any moment (while I was in the air), he could and would (and did) jump out of his seat on the opposite  side of the teeter-totter leaving me to plummet to my doom! Oh, I can still feel the pain that shot through my 50 lbs body. The jar to the earth made my teeth chatter and my body convulse. Thank God my hands were in the clear. You could lose a finger in an instant!

The Merry-Go-Round. Also known as the Scary-Go-Round. I can never remember not being afraid of this contraption. When I was a kid, someone told me (probably one of my cousins or some idiot classmate) that some kid got her foot chopped off by the Merry-Go-Round. True or not, the very thought of sitting on that thing and getting slung around by the likes of Edward Dale Brewer (The Pig from Hell) and having my foot severed was enough to keep me off of that thing for life! You go ahead and spend your recess trapped on the wheel of death (cause once it starts spinning, your ass is trapped there until the bell rings), holding onto the bars with dear life. I'll be over by the swings.

And who could forget the ole tire...tire...tire bridge? I don't even know what you would call it. Basically, there were about 12 tires chained together that you could climb, jump, walk across. Or, you could attempt to do those things and have one of your legs go down the center of the tire while the other one flailed about helplessly and you lay astraddle the so-called-bridge. Not that that ever happened to me.

Last but not least: the skin-scorching metal slide! Now, I ain't one to complain too much about a slide. After all, they are pretty spectacular. But, you climb up on that sucker in July with your little short shorts on, and you might as well say goodbye to your epidermis. That top layer of skin is toast. Literally. Picture little Allison running full-speed ahead to the playground. Yes! No line for the slide! Ascending the steps, the anticipation was brutal. Crawl on top of the slide, stick my legs out in front of me, and scream bloody murder all the way to the bottom. Get off that frying pan and check out my beet red chicken legs. "No line for the slide." What a fool I was!

What Do You Think About When You Hear That Song?

"Bob Dylan has sexy lips." said Eller

Music is fun. It makes you laugh (She Acts Like We Never Met--Bob Dylan). It makes you cry (He Stopped Loving Her Today--George Jones). It makes you angry (You Oughtta Know--Alanis). It makes you lovey-dovey (All Night Thing--Temple of the Dog). Some songs even make you want to get liquored up (Honky Tonk Women--The Rolling Stones)!

Today I was jamming to some tunage at work, and each time a song came on, I had a memory associated with it. So, I decided I'd jot them down quickly to share later. With my playlist on shuffle, these were the following 10 songs (and associated memories) that popped up after I decided to play this little game:

The Zephyr Song - Red Hot Chili Peppers: Walking around UK's beautiful campus, in the snow, jamming away to the Chili Peppers via my Walkman. Yes, those were the days before iPods (or at least before I could afford an iPod).

Let's Stay Together - Al Green: I will forever and always associate this song with my dear friend Brian.

After Hours - We Are Scientists: A trip to NYC with my best bud, Jenna. And a night we spent hanging around the city with her boy from Ohio.

The Gambler - Fun: Being pregnant and my obsession with this song over the summer. I am also reminded of how I thought that no one had heard of Fun because I never had, but then I discovered they sang that song, "We Are Young," which everyone and their brother knew. To quote Sally Brown, "What a fool I was!"

All My Exes Live in Texas - George Straight: My friend Nate and how he always sung to me, "Allison in Galveston, somehow lost her sanity."

Little Red Corvette - Prince: My Aunt Gladys and how she blasted Purple Rain when she took a shower.

Gotten Good at Goodbye - George Strait: Watching the Top 20 Countdown with my Mommaw and cousin Jonathan on CMT. (Jonathan, remember Streets of Bakersfield--that was our jam!)

Ain't Nuthin but a G Thang - Dr. Dre & Snoop Doggy Dogg: I always think about this song's music video, and how I wish that Snoop Dogg was my friend.

Country Roads, Take Me Home - John Denver: Dwarf! And I now associate this song with my babies because this is what I sing to them when I rock them to sleep.

Beast of Burden - The Rolling Stones: A summer vacation at Myrtle Beach with my friend, Shantell.

Thanks for taking a listen to my playlist (I may be one of a handful of folks who have The Red Hot Chili Peppers, John Denver, Snoop Dogg, and George Strait on the same playlist) and strolling down memory lane with me.

Six Months

Life before babies--snuggling kitties.

The boys are 6 months old today! Can you believe it? It's funny how life changes in the blink of an eye. They've only been here for 6 months, but I can't remember life without them. Actually, I can. I remember sleep fondly.

Six months ago, I was laid up in the hospital after just having 2 human beings removed from my body (I still can't believe I had twins...or that women totally got the shaft and have to grow humans inside themselves)...

My stint in the big house started a week before the boys were born. The doc called me on Thursday, July 12th. My lab work suggested pre-eclampsia, and since I was 36 weeks pregnant, it was time to be admitted to the hospital. She said I could go on in, or wait til morning. I chose to wait and have one more peaceful night in my own bed. Meaning, it was my good fortune to check into the hospital on Friday the 13th. The next week was totally lame and boring. But I guess, it was better to be safe than sorry. Nothing happened, save for Joey Votto blowing out his knee. Yeah, I watched A LOT of Reds baseball while I was in the hospital.

Baby A!

The boys were not set to arrive until the following Thursday. I was all right up until that morning, or D-Day, as I called it. Once the wheelchair arrived to escort me to the operation room, I got scared. That lasted for about 15 minutes. Didn't matter if I was scared or not, those little dudes had to be delivered. So, I had to straighten up and pretend to be brave. After having my arm brutally murdered by the nurse and her giant IV and horrible IV-inserting techniques (there were pools of blood on the floor to prove she was awful), it was showtime!

Sensitive J-Bird.

Boomer went into the operation room with me. She tried to talk to me, hold my hand, and all that good stuff to make me not think about the fact that my body was cut open and I was conscious (I still can't think about that...so strange). Anyway, I wasn't really listening or talking to her. I was too anxious. I wanted everything to be done and over with and I wanted to see my babies! It wasn't too longer after the doctor had started that she said, "Look up, Allison. A healthy baby boy. Baby A! What's his name?" And there he was, my little Julian. About twenty seconds later, she was holding Jonas up for me to see. Good looking little fellers. Holy guacamole! That. Just. Happened.

Douglas and Jason were out in the waiting room, uh, waiting. Boomer went out to tell them the boys had arrived, and as I had been moved to the recovery room, they could come take a gander. Jason cried, cause he's sensitive like that. I think Douglas was still in shock.

The boys had their first visitors that evening: Grandma Carol, Jovita, Joann, Day-Day, Tracy, and Jenna.  Day 2, they met Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Steve!

2nd day home.

We hung out in the hospital for the next few days. I thought I was dying, and was convinced that I was going to rip in half if I moved. (Ugh, please, Lord, take away the memory of what pregnancy and delivery felt like so that I may someday have another child.) Doug tried to sleep on a chair, and found out around Day 2 (in that room), that the chair actually folded out to a "bed." We fed our little dudes (the very first bottle we gave them was 15 mL...a big ole half ounce). Doug Bear changed their diapers (after the nurse showed us how) and took care of their nether regions. And we held them constantly. I can't believe how little they were!

We got 0 hours of sleep. I was completely uncomfortable, and so was Doug. Oh, and the boys had to be fed every 3 hours. One night, the nurse suggested we send the babies to the nursery so we could sleep. We did, and Doug finally got a few hours of shut-eye. I couldn't sleep because I was missing my little dudes. 6AM rolled around, and the nurse came back to the room, pushing the bassinets. I cried when she came in. I was so happy to have them back! (Doug was probably crying because he had to wake up!)

Our happy boys!

All of a sudden, it was time to go home. What do we do with them when we get home? Aaaah! I was still very much crippled, so Doug was really in for it. He had 2 babies and a wife to care for. That first week was pure hell. We didn't know what we were doing. The babies couldn't sleep without being close to their Mama, so I would sleep holding the babies, and Doug would watch us sleep (don't try this at home, people). I was not being successful with nursing. The babies were pissed because they were hungry, and I sucked at feeding them. I cried a lot. But somehow...somehow, we survived, and now it is 6 months later. We didn't break the boys. We realized formula feeding was better than a depressed, exhausted mother. We successfully bathed them (I was very concerned about this, and watched many "how to" videos when I was in the hospital). I changed a diaper (after 2 weeks of letting Doug handle it solo).
We were parents!

Baby B

And now, all is well. Our boys are happy and healthy, and we are learning new tricks every single day.
6 months...feels like a lifetime. Here's to many more months with my main men! (Pray that Doug and I survive!)

The B-I-B-L-E

Last month I decided that I was going to rid our house of stuff we didn't need or want. I started with the bookshelves in the dining room. We had 3 bookshelves, none of which were the same color, and all of which were sagging and looking pretty pathetic. On this shelves were dozens of books that we had never read and didn't plan on reading in the near future. We cleaned off the shelves and sent the books back to Doug's mother (most of the books belonged to Doug's dad).

Among the books I shipped out of here was my Bible. Doug's aunt discovered it and brought it back home to me. This Bible belongs to Allison Jones. A gift from Uncle Mike and Aunt Ruby, Christmas 1992. It was a nice little Bible with a red leather zip-up cover. I was happy to have it back. I opened my Bible to check it out. Inside, I found a program for a church service at Dwarf Baptist Church dated 1995. This would have made me 11 years old. Now, on the program, there is a space for you to take notes on the sermon. Did little Allison take good notes from the October 25, 1995 sermon? Well, if the preacher was talking about how Jessica Shantell Wilson truly loved Jonathan Scott Noble, then yes, I took excellent notes!

What a little heathen I was! I was sitting in church with Shantell, no doubt, tormenting her by doing "love tests" to see who her perfect match was. When I saw these scribbles, I remembered the test immediately. In order to find out the exact number of people in this world who might have been a better match for you, you did this test. You wrote out "Name #1 truly loves Name #2." Then you drew this little chart where you count the number of vowels and add them up. You mark out duplicate numbers. The number you are left with tells you how many people out there in the world might be a better match than the person you listed. Completely scientific.

My Feet Hurt. And EDB is a Pig From Hell.

Continuing on my quest to become svelte, I hit the gym today after work. Unfortunately, I didn't bring my headphones, so I had to awkwardly walk in silence as everyone else jammed to their motivational tunes. While I was walking, I noticed several things about the manner in which I exercise.

1. Although every other person in the gym seemed to be able to play on their smart phone or read a book while exercising, I most definitely cannot. I tried. I failed. Miserably. For starters, I think I get a little motion-sickness when I attempt to navigate my phone and exercise. Secondly, I focus my attention on the phone instead of the exercise, and then I hear that old familiar noise of my feet dragging on the treadmill belt...you know, the noise you hear just before you lose your footing and bite the dust. (Note: Exercising = walking. I wonder if I am the person people refer to when they say, "She can't walk and chew bubble gum at the same time." I'm telling you, I'm talented, folks!)
2. Along the same lines, I also noticed today that I cannot walk in a straight line, nor can I walk and talk/look at someone next to me without nearly falling and killing myself. Jenna (my sweet friend and treadmill neighbor) probably thought I was going to wipe out at any moment.
3. I was about 3 minutes into my 30-minute workout when my feet started to hurt.
4. I am, by far, the most pathetic person in the gym.

As I type this, I am flexing my legs to stretch my "muscles" and it feels so good. I wonder what it is like to be an actual athlete? Or at least someone who can do more than a 30-minute power walk without having to write a thesis on its effects.

The boys eating carrots.

In other news...

I try to be a good mother, but I lied to my babies yesterday. (And so it begins.) I told them that carrots were "yummy in their tummies." Sorry, boys. Please forgive me. Carrots taste like dirt.

Today, my so-called-buddy, Brian, made me relive a horrible moment from childhood. The tale of Edward Dale Brewer. Because the wounds are re-opened, I might as well share this story with you:

Me as a 1st grader.

Edward Dale Brewer is a pig from hell. When I was in 1^st grade, he was an 8^th grader. He rode my bus. One summer day, I had a Snickers candy bar at recess. I didn’t finish it all, so I put it in my pocket to eat later when I got home. Well, it melted. I had chocolate all over the FRONT side of my pants. I get off the bus at my stop, and dadblamed Edward Dale Brewer sticks his ugly head out the window of the bus and hollers, “Allison pooped her pants! Allison pooped her pants!” My face turned blood red (and this was even before my rosacea flares) and I ran all the way home crying every step of the way.

Dreams

I rode Bus No. 6

Why are dreams so weird? Last night I had a dream that my mom and dad had to go to the doctor because they had "scoobies," which evidently in my dream world is cooties of the gums. What? That doesn't make a lick of sense! Why on earth would I dream that? In the same dream, I was walking up the holler to my Mommaw's house and was right below her driveway when the school bus came rolling by. Because I didn't want to get run-over or be seen, I jumped off of the road down over the creek bank. That was fruitless, however, and Bill (my old bus driver) stopped and hollered out the window, "Allison, you need a ride to school? Aren't you teaching today?" I answered, "no" and Bill went on his way. Directly, Curt comes busting down the road on my purple bike. "Where are you going, Curt?" He replies, "Going to school. I missed the bus and my truck is tore up, so I have to ride the bike." I asked him, "Do you want me to drive you? [p.s. where was the car when I was hoofing it up the holler to Beetle's?] It's going to be mighty dangerous riding that bike and sharing the road with coal trucks." To which Curt says, "I'm good for the challenge." <---Dumbest dream ever.

Oh, the school bus. Brings back so many memories. My bus seat was shared with my buddy and cousin, John Irvin. In the mornings, we would sleep. We would prop our legs up on the back of the seat in front of us. Because I was the first to get on the bus, I always got the window seat. I propped myself up on that, using my jacket or backpack as a pillow. John would use my shoulder as a pillow. On the ride home, we'd usually do  our homework or tell jokes and make up songs about our cousins. One such song was about John Ed, it was set to the tune of George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone," and went like this, "On the day John Ed was born, he had a turd in his mouth." Classic.

And I'll tell you this one just for shits and giggles because I know you've all heard it. When I was in 3rd or 4th grade, Edward Dale Brewer was an 8th grader and was a fellow bus rider. Well, earlier that hot, summer day, I had eaten half of a Snickers (or was it Baby Ruth) candy bar. Instead of throwing the other half away, I simply wrapped back in its package (with some extra tape for good measure) and stuck it in my pocket. On the bus ride home, the candy bar melted. Chocolate was all over the side of my pants. Edward Dale Brewer saw this and proceeded to hang his head out the window of the bus as it drove off and I stood alone at the top of my driveway, "Allison, did you poop your pants? Poopy pants. Poopy pants." What a jerk. If I hadn't have been 8 years old and mortified, I would've thrown a rock at that kid. "Poopy pants." What? Like I poop out the side of my hip!? Stupid Edward Dale Brewer.

I Miss My Uncle Charles, Y'all

When I was in 6th grade, The Bone Thugs in Harmony were popular. Remember those dudes? They all had names with "Bone" in them...like the Spice Girls were each a different spice (i.e., Baby Spice, Ginger Spice, Sporty Spice), The Bone Thugs were different types of bones: Crazy Bone, Busy Bone, Lazy Bone (pretty thuggish, right?). So, anyway, The Bone Thugs had a song, "Cross Roads." In this tune, there was a lyric that went, "Why'd they kill my dog? Damn, I miss my Uncle Charles, y'all." I thought the translation was literal, that someone really killed the dude's dog. "Man, that is jacked up. Why would someone kill a feller's ole dog?" I thought to my 6th grade self. Later in life it was made known to me that "dog" was a slang term for "friend." Makes more sense, I guess. Though, I'd be equally afraid of a gang who went around killing fellers' dogs.

***Upon a quick google search, the name of the group is actually Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, and there's even a member named Flesh-n-Bone. Pretty wicked.