Texas Born and Bred

This came across to me in an email earlier.  I normally ignore these things but I thought I would share, along with my commentary!

Enjoy!

Only a true Texan knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit and that you don’t “have” them, but “pitch” them.

In my opinion, a conniption fit is much worse but be warned, if you hear anyone saying they are pitching either one, star far, far away!

A true Texan can show or point out the general direction of “yonder.”

Words/phrases related to “yonder” include: around the corner, over there, up the way a bit, up the road, and down there

Nobody but a true Texan knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc. make up a “mess.”

For anyone interested, it’s tradition to make about ten times as much as needed.  If you have 5 people over to eat, you cook enough for 50 and everyone takes a plate home
True Texans know instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who’s got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. (If the trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin’.)

Nothing says “sorry”  or “I’m there for you” like fried comfort food!

True Texans know that “fixin” can be as a noun, verb, and adverb

I use the word “fixinna” (fixing to) a lot!  It’s probably my favorite word ever!  For the rest of you, “fixing to” is equivalent to “about to” but soooo much more fun to say!

True Texans know that there are two types of food. Spicy and Spici-er.

Make mine spici-er please!

True Texans know from experience that rattlesnake meat tastes like chicken.

More like rubber chicken.  Yes, I’ve had it and yes, it tastes like chicken.

True Texans know exactly how and where armadillos sleep: in the middle of the road with their feet in the air.

Those darn critters sleep a lot!

Say the word “dinner” to a true Texan and they will look at you like you’ve grown another head.  There’s only lunch and then there’s supper.

To this day I still have no idea what dinner refers to.  Maybe someone can enlighten me.  Is it the meal you eat at noon or in the evening?

“Jeeet?” is an entire phrase.  Translation: “Did you eat?”

Texans are very concerned about their fellow neighbor, if you go somewhere where there is food involved, please, please, please eat it no matter if you’re hungry or not.  We get very upset and offended if anyone leaves with an empty stomach.  Another form is “Joo” as in “Did you…”  example “Joo go to the store yet?”

Image Credit: campingfriend.com

True Texans live by the creed.  “If you don’t like the weather in Texas, just wait a minute.”  A true Texan has had to switch from heat to A/C more than once in the course of a day.

It’s amazing how true this is.  I’ve seen it where it will be raining on one side of the street and completely clear on the other side.

Ask a true Texan to list the names of the seasons:  Almost summer, summer, still summer, and Christmas.

It’s hot here y’all!

True Texans know that a carbonated soft drink isn’t a soda, cola, or pop; it’s a Coke regardless of the brand or flavor.

I’ll never forget a story a friend of mine told me.  She moved to Texas from Boston.  The first time she went to a fast food place and asked for a Coke the cashier asked her what kind.  She was shocked that she had gone all of her life and didn’t know there was more than one flavor of Coke.

No one in Texas would dream of putting vinyl upholstery in a car or not having air conditioning.

I left this one here for a “pity me” moment.  The A/C in my car is currently out!  It’s horrible, I hate it!

True Texans know that asphalt has a liquid state.

And it’s a pain in the patootie to get off the car!

True Texan mosquitoes have landing lights

Seriously, those things could probably pick up and carry off a doberman.

A Texan’s beloved family pet is the stray dog with one leg that came limping up to his front door years ago.

My parents actually have a three legged dog that strayed up about a year ago.  He was completely hairless too.  He’s become a very loved and welcome member of the family.

As it Would Turn Out, Men Just Want to Have Sex

 

(I apologize now for the fact that you may actually learn something from today’s blog)

 

Okay, okay, I’m sure I don’t have to convince anyone here that men enjoy sex (most of them at least) and it seems that a male’s love for sex doesn’t stop with humans.  I was reading something earlier about creatures that still “live” after being killed.  I know that makes no sense but I know we’ve all seen a bug twitch after being stepped on.  Turns out that snakes will still bite after their head is chopped off, frogs will still swim if you remove their brain, and a turtle’s heart will still beat after being removed from its body.

 

What I found interesting was that there are certain species in which the male will still attempt to copulate even after either his partner has been compromised or he has been forced to compromise himself.   *Sigh*  Just like a man.

 

Let’s start with spiders.

 

Much like a praying mantis, spider women are known to get a little carried away during reproduction where “a little carried away” = killing their baby daddy.  Well the spider dudes don’t particularly care for this all that much, what fun is sex if you can’t live to tell about it?  But I’m not sure that their adaptation to the rule is really all that productive.

 

Spiders have started to evolve and now have a sort of detachable zombie penis.

 

Not today sweetheart!
Photo Credit: Cracked.com

Here’s how it works:

 

Boy Spider (Charles):  Oh Priscilla, you are so beautiful, let’s get busy and make babies together!

Priscilla:  Oh Chucky, I love you so much, let’s do this!

(Charles and Priscilla proceed to get it on)

 Priscilla:  Oh Chucky dear, you know I love you but….

(Priscilla turns on Chucky dear, her giant fangs poised, she lurches towards him violently)

 Charles:  Oh HELL NO! You crazy B!  I’ll show you!

(Charles jumps away to avoid being killed, but before doing so, detaches his zombie penis which continues to pump into Priscilla’s lady parts)

 

The funny thing about this is the article I read actually said that the zombie penis works faster and more efficiently once detached.  I just don’t see how this is an accomplishment for the 8 legged boys.  How many men would rather have their man parts removed and live a life of shame than just get it over with and die doing the dirty deed?  Seems like a good way to go to me!

 

Of course, we women don’t care either way around, even spider ladies get to have their toys!

 

Okay and what about fruit flies?  It seems that after you chop the heads off of a female fly, the males will still attempt to mate with the headless body.

 

There are so many things wrong about this.  This just goes to show that men really don’t care about a woman and her brains; they just want a good body and a nice piece of tail!

 

However, the study did say that the female fruit flies will refuse the males advances because they view them as nothing more than a “noxious foreign stimuli”.  Sounds about right!

 

Girl Power!

Crazy Week

I’ve been pretty absent this week but between trips back and forth to the hospital and life changes, I haven’t had the time to breathe!

I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, I’m hoping that next week will be back to normal and I can get back into the blogging routine.

I did manage to find time yesterday to mow my yard.  My poor yard, it has a tendency of getting away from me from time to time.  Really just because i have no time to mow do anything, I leave before the sun comes up in the morning and I’m home after the sun has gone down.  Something tells me that my neighbors wouldn’t appreciate 4am wake up calls from the lawn mower.

Anyways, back to the story, I was mowing the yard yesterday, minding my own business and that’s when they attacked…..FIRE ANTS!

image credit: gibbleguts.com

I have a history with these little buggers and a story that is one of those that my mom always makes sure to tell my friends when she meets them for the first time.  It’s not her favorite, that would be the story about the two pet ducks I got for Easter one year; I tried to kill both of them.  Not my fault,honest!  I was simply trying to teach them how to swim…how was I to know they already knew how?

Anyways, where I grew up, we didn’t have fire ants we had big fat red ants and what my mom referred to as sugar ants.  To this day I don’t know if that’s what they are really called but they are about the same size as fire ants only, they don’t bite.  I’ve mentioned this before but I was quite the tom-boy growing up and one thing that I enjoyed was playing with these ants.  I would sit right out in the middle of an ant bed and let them crawl over me.  (Not once have I claimed I was a very sharp kid growing up.)

When we moved from west Texas to the DFW metroplex, I found that the house we moved into also had these friendly little sugar ants.  Or so I thought.

I had grown out of the habit to purposely let the ants crawl all over me however, one day when I stepped in an ant bed and the little things started swarming me I thought it odd but I didn’t let it bug me too much, until the pain came.  You should have seen me jumping and dancing and screaming and squalling.  You would have thought I was practicing for some up coming episode of “So You Think You Can (Rain) Dance”.

I learned quickly that the ants in north Texas aren’t nearly as friendly as the ones in west Texas.

Yesterday was a different scenario though. I’m well aware that I have fire ants in my yard and I’m pretty good at avoiding them, so I thought.  The only thing that I can figure out that happened was that I ran over a mound without realizing it, sending ants flying through the air in all directions which ultimately resulted in them being scattered all over my body.  Before the incident was over, I looked like I had been the victim of a roadside bombing, covered in shrapnel.

Yesterday, I truly learned the meaning of the old saying “Ants in the pants.”

And why does this stuff always happen when people are around?  The neighbor lady across the street and two houses down just HAD to pick that time of the day to walk her dog.  The next door neighbor just HAD to pick that time of day to go check her mail.  The girl across the street just HAD to have a cigarette at that moment.

These three lucky ladies were absolutely awarded with a show yesterday.  I danced, I pranced, I kicked, I flicked, I used parts of my body I never knew existed.  I jumped up and down to shake the critters free from my pants legs, I swatted my body parts and clawed at the bites.  It was truly a sight to see.

But I never killed the lawnmower.

 

The Case of 53

I’ve been spending a lot of time at the VA (Veteran’s Affairs) Hospital with a family member lately.  He went in on Friday and today we are waiting for him to go in to have open heart surgery.

 

Hospitals are funny places, especially VA Hospitals.  You never really know exactly what you are going to find.

 

Let’s start with the angry leprechaun.

 

When we got here on Friday an elderly gentleman was brought into the ER, kicking and screaming.  He caused such a ruckus that we were all prompted to turn and look, and what a treat that was!  He was a red headed man with a long red beard.  He had those deeply engraved frown lines dotted across his face and the big red bushy eyebrows.  To top it off, he was dressed in green and carried a cane; a cane which he later used as an assault weapon against the clerk behind the admitting desk.  He was far from the friendly, pot of gold chasing, lucky charms leprechaun, and I thought it best not to ask him for “Hearts, Stars, Rainbows, Clovers and Balloons.”

It’s scary how much this looks just like the hospital leprechaun
Image Credit: yourirish.com

 

Then there was the case of “53”.  He was dressed exactly as you would expect a war vet to be dressed.  He wore the POW/MIA ball cap, matching shirt and pants, and shuffled when he walked.  I have no clue why he was visiting the hospital but he was obviously quite annoyed with his predicament.  The answer to every question that the nurses asked was “53”.  It started off calmly however the more questions she asked, the more irritated he became that she couldn’t get it through her head that the answer was 53.  He began screaming and cussing and calling her every name in the book.

 

There was another gentleman who confirmed one of the first concerns I had when walking into the ER.

 

I don’t want this to come across the wrong way so understand that I am stating pure fact when I say, a huge percentage of the staff at this hospital belongs to the Asian race. Once again, there is nothing wrong with that but my concern is:

 

Many of the veterans here are Vietnam vets and since I have had the pleasure of knowing many of the veterans from this war era I know that they don’t harbor the greatest feelings towards Asians.  To them, it doesn’t matter if you are from China, Japan, or the Philippines, as far as they are concerned you are Vietnamese and all of their horrible war memories suddenly come back to life and they become quite enraged.

 

Such was the case with the gentleman yesterday.  A nurse went brought a wheel chair to him and asked him to get in so he could take him to the back.  At this moment the man snapped to life and started waving his cane in the air (they really should confiscate those things at the door) screaming “It’s the Viet Cong, they’re trying to kill me!” then turning to the nurse “You won’t take me alive, Gook!”  He stood up, kicking and screaming and proceeded to spit in the nurse’s face.

 

As funny as these incidences sound, it really is sad that our Veterans (or any of our elderly as far as that goes) get in the situations that they do.  I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the elderly and especially those who served our country, and at a time that it wasn’t quite so cool to be in the military.

 

I’m sure before this is all over I will have more exciting stories to share!

The Great Fish Caper of 2012

This morning one of my co-workers came in with a very sad look on her face.  It didn’t take much probing to discover that someone or something had taken all of her fish out of the fish pond and she was very distraught by this.  My co-workers (not me of course, I’m innocent) have had a field day with joking about what we, err they, think happened to them.

 

Here is a snapshot of the crime scene.

 

Image Credit: wpclipart.com
  • 0630 May 10, 2012:  Victim goes outside to smoke a cigarette before leaving for word, all fish are present and accounted for
  • 0715 May 10, 2012:  Victim’s fiancé fed fish and left for work
  • 1620 May 10,2012:  Victim returns home and notices abnormally large black bird in back yard
  • 1930 May 10,2012:  Victim went to count fish (apparently this is something she does regularly) and noticed that all 12 were missing, killer/kidnapper left no trace
  • 0630 May 11,2012:  Victim goes outside to smoke cigarette and once again looks in the pond hoping fish were just hiding, pokes the water with a stick and dumps fish food in pond, still no fish

 

Assuming that the fish were stolen/killed/eaten, here is a list of the possible subjects:

 

  • The abnormally large blackbird – This is a long shot, these were apparently pretty good sized fish, too big for a blackbird to carry off, there would be evidence
  • A neighborhood cat – So far no neighbors have called in complaining of cats with indigestion from eating a dozen fish
  • A raccoon – Seems feasible however, based on the timeline above and the knowledge that raccoons are nocturnal, not likely
  • An owl – Again, nocturnal
  • A hawk – Very feasible however hawks are solitary creatures and the likelihood of one hawk eaten 12 fish seems a little far fetched
  • A crane/heron – Big bird, could easily consume that number of fish but not that common in victims neighborhood, would have to have been a “per chance” encounter)
  • The meter man – The victim is dead set that the guy came to read her meter yesterday and carried along with him a giant buck of water for which to stock his own pond.  He would have had to carry this bucket in the back of his truck all day and not turn it over.  Also, he would be risking his job in order to obtain fish that he could easily purchase at the pet store for a nominal fee, unlikely.)
  • The co-worker who left early yesterday and lives close to the victim.  She also just bought a brand new car and called in late this morning claiming that she was having car trouble.  The tow truck that was en route to pick her up had a flat tire and she has yet to make it in to work.  Very suspicious.
  • Neighbors.  Perhaps young boys broke into the backyard and stole the fish, or maybe the neighbors were planning a fish fry and were too broke to go to the store.

 

 

Surely it wasn’t the cat!
Photo Credit: Visualphotos.com

We also have a few other theories that I think you will find are highly possible and not at all ridiculous.

 

  • Victim’s family “hid” the fish and are giving them a makeover complete with bows for the girl fish and tuxedos for the boy fish.  This is their Mother’s Day gift to her.
  • Victim un-friended the fish on Facebook making them angry.  They packed up all their belongings and ran away.
  • Fish mysteriously died and, in an effort to save the victim from seeing her the corpses of her beloved fish, her fiancé removed them from the pond and sneakily baked them in a casserole that he sent with her for lunch today
  • They are not gone for good, they are simply off attending a wedding
  • The fish never existed.  They were merely a figment of her imagination, and perhaps an extension of her persona made her believe that they were truly in her pond.  We have not concluded whether or not the pond exists

 

Whatever the case may be, the co-worker is highly distressed about the loss of her fish.  We are taking up a collection to get her some new replacements.

 

I’m curious.  What do you think happened to the fish?  Anyone have a fishpond at home?  I must say, now that I’ve seen hers (it really is cute) I’m itching to put one in my yard!

I could probably settle for looking out the window at this every day
Photo Credit: Designinteriorart.com

Call Me Maybe?

Last night was a rather rough night for me.  I was still feeling sick from the night before and insomnia was running rampant amongst my brain.  I had about five million thoughts racing through my head all at the same time.

 

It didn’t help that I had a little ear worm make his way into my head.

 

If you haven’t heard this song, it IS rather catchy no matter how “teenage drama queen”-ish it is.  I am, of course, speaking of this Carly Rae Jepson song “Call Me Maybe”.

 

So if you haven’t heard it, it’s basically this girl that takes a chance on this guy she’s just met for the first time, she thinks it’s love at first sight and gives him her phone number and tells him to “Call me maybe’>

 

I’m sorry; I just can’t take this song seriously, at all.  Not because it’s teeny bopper-ish and immature, not because it’s sung by some Zoey Deschanel mini-me, and not because at the end of the video the guy she is chasing turns out to be gay.  No, I can’t take it seriously for one simple reason:

 

Who in the heck CALLS nowadays?

 

Photo Credit: hatetexting.com

I think if she would change the lyrics to “Text me Maybe” I might be a little more inclined to consider the validity and sincerity of her message.  I even have facts to back up my point!  According to a September 2011 survey, one in every three texters would prefer to text instead of call someone or speak face to face.  I’m sure by now that statistic is even higher.

 

I have to say, I am most definitely one of the people who would much rather text.  I HATE talking on the phone and I despise face to face interactions even more.  I’m far too introverted to find myself being comfortable in situations like this.  Texting allows me to take a few moments to put my thoughts together, make them appear intelligent, and hopefully be perceivable as someone who knows what she’s talking about.  If you put me on the spot, however, I will stammer and stutter like a blubbering idiot.

 

I’m like this with everyone I know.  I would much rather carry out a ten hour text conversation as opposed to fifteen minutes on the phone.  I’m sure anyone that has had the misfortune of being on the phone with me for more than five minutes has had the displeasure of hearing that annoyance in my voice.  I just don’t like to talk on the phone!

 

What do you think?  Do people still call each other when they have the option of texting?  Are you a caller or a texter?

When Shower Curtains Attack

I’m sure I’ve probably whined about this before (yes, I just looked this up) but I pretty much never get my “me” time.  As an introvert that is a very difficult thing for me to deal with, sometimes I just need to be left alone, most people don’t get that.

 

Anyways, I stay very busy most of the time, I leave my house between 5:15 and 5:20 every morning, and I get home around 5:30 in the evening.  Every day when I get home the ritual looks the same.  I walk in the door, go directly to my bedroom in the back of the house, change out of my work clothes into jeans, turn back around and walk out the door, get in my car, and go to my parents’ house to take care of horses.  By the time I’m done with the horses it’s usually around 8:30, I get home at 9:00 and am in bed by 9:30.

 

And people wonder why I have no clue what they are talking about when they ask me if I watch “The Voice.”

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining one bit but every once in awhile my body revolts against me and says “Enough is enough”.  This is what happened last night.

 

While feeding the horses, it hit me – that nauseating, draining, achy, feeling.  It felt almost like I was coming down with the flu.  I was suddenly extremely exhausted, I had a pounding headache, my body ached all over, and I was shaking uncontrollably. I finally got the horses up, went home and pretty much dove directly into a hot bath tub.

 

I have a TV in my bedroom and I have this habit of turning it on when I soak in the tub.  I can’t see it from where my bath tub is, but I just like to have the noise.  So last night since I was kind of out of it, as I relaxed in the warm water, I started to drift off to sleep.  Not very safe I know, but I was in that “in between asleep and awake” state, not completely asleep but not 100% alert either.

 

As I’ve mentioned before, I live pretty darn close to the World’s Busiest Train Tracks so I get pretty used to hearing train horns that tend to get pretty loud.  So last night whatever was on my TV had something to do with a train.  The horn started just like any other that I’m used to hearing however I’m sure on the show it was coming towards the camera which made it sound as if it was coming towards me.

 

You can’t always be held responsible for the things you do when you are in the half conscious state that I was in.  I heard the sound of the horn coming closer and closer and panicked.  I apparently thought that it was a real train and that apparently the tracks had been re-located to go right through the middle of my house.  I jumped up, flailing around and flip flopping like a fish on a trotline.

 

In all of my flailing I managed to catch the shower curtain, pulling it down and the rod caught me square in the middle of the forehead.  So here I was: naked, cold, and still thinking that a train was coming to cut me in half.  I was a mess, needless to say.

 

Thankfully the rod didn’t hit me hard enough to leave a mark and I didn’t have to make up some false story to describe the circle shaped bruise placed squarely on my forehead.  I can only imagine what fun my co-workers would have had with the real story.  They’re not always the kindest people to know when you have been put in compromising situations.

 

Yup, that was pretty much what I looked like…however, I don’t shower with clothes on….weirdo!!!
Photo Credit: Collegehumor.com

Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me.  When I first got Winston, he decided he wanted to jump in the bath tub with me.  He found out quickly that he was not interested in what the steamy water had to offer him and tried to make an emergency exit, his collar catching the very end of the shower curtain and KERPLOP down goes curtain rod right on mama’s head.  Had he been a child I’m sure the ringing in my ears would have been followed up by a hearty guffaw from him.

 

So all in all, it turned out okay, no saucers on the forehead and I’m pretty much feeling like myself again this morning.  I think someone is trying to tell me that I need to take a break and just chill!  Oh if I could just take a week off and do nothing!  Thank goodness I don’t have kids!

Spam Sandwich

Before I start this blog I just want to note that I can not take credit for the idea behind this post.  A similar post was made by Curly Carly a few weeks ago and I’m normally not the type to copy people or their ideas but I experienced this this morning and wanted to do my own version or what Curly Carly already touched on.  You can read her original post here.

The WordPress website is (thankfully) smart enough to be able to filter out comments that appear to be spam.  Not to discredit the site for it’s ability to do so but it’s pretty easy for the human eye to pick up on these, if the advertising pitches don’t give them away, the obvious lack of the English language is sure to confirm your suspicions.

I don’t really make a habit of checking the comments in the spam folder but this morning I decided to see what was going on in there, some of them can be quite comical (as you will see) but for the most part, they just don’t make sense.

The main reason I decided to do this however, was because one of them hit me as almost tragic and actually made me quite angry.  It wasn’t necessarily because of what it said, but rather where it was posted.

A few days ago I posted about a little baby girl named Avery and her battle with a very serious and fatal disease, a battle which she ultimately lost.  I also touched on the subject of a friend of mine who lost her baby during delivery.  This was a very serious blog, I wanted no comical over tone at all on this subject as the death of babies is not something to be taken lightly.  When I checked my spam folder this morning I found myself extremely thankful that this spammer comment never actually posted.

This website is realy nice! I just wanna say thank you for sharing this kind of sex-dating information with us.

When I was freelance writing, I learned a little about SEO and how certain keywords bring up certain articles in search engines. For the life of me I can’t imagine what keyword was tagged on this blog to warrant a spam comment like this.  The keywords tagged in this post were:

  • Avery’s Bucket List
  • Awareness
  • Babies
  • Death of a child
  • Death of a baby
  • Health
  • Losing a child
  • Losing baby
  • Medicine
  • Motherhood
  • Pregnancy
  • SMA Type 1

What about any of those keywords leads a search engine to think it was an article related in any way, shape, or form, to sex dating?

Ugh….in and effort to combat the frustration I felt after seeing that comment, I felt it necessary to provide some comic relief.  Here are some of the funnier comments that were waiting for me in my spam folder. (Note, I’ve copied the comments exactly as they were posted, all mistakes in grammar are intentional)

Reader Appreciation:  The Great Fishy Giveaway of 2012

Good web site! I truly love how it is simple on my eyes and the data about online pharmacy licensed are well written. I’m wondering how I could be notified whenever a new post has been made. I’ve subscribed to your RSS which must do the trick! Have a great day!

First of all, I’m truly elated that my site doesn’t make your eyes burn every time you look at it.  That’s something I put a lot of thought into and want to make sure that my readers don’t have to wear sunglasses every time they come here to read something.  Secondly, it makes my heart happy that giving away a stuffed fish provided a wealth of knowledge for you regarding online pharmacy, which was my whole intention with this post, I’m so glad someone recognized it!  I hope the RSS feed continues to send my drug addicted stuffed animals your direction!

Thanks for the sensible critique. Me & my neighbor were just preparing to do some research about this. We got a grab a book from our area library but I think I learned more clear from this post about “causes of obesity”. I am very glad to see such wonderful information being shared freely out there.

I hope that you and your neighbor continue to read my blogs about how winning free fish can keep you from gaining weight.  (Seriously? That’s all I had to do to lose weight?)  I am so glad that word is getting out however, do not stop going to your “area library”, I’m sure you can find something there that will teach you how to make complete sentences so that you can continue to “learn more clear”.

You Have Died of Dysentery

Just wish to say your article is as surprising. The clearness in your post is just great and i can assume you are an expert on this subject. Well with your permission let me to grab your feed to keep updated with forthcoming post. Thanks a million and please carry on the rewarding work.

Why yes in fact, I do happen to be an expert at dying from dysentery, I’ve done it a number of times.  I can tell you that it’s not nearly as bad as people make it out to seem.  Diseases like dysentery, polio, and AIDS get such a bad reputation these days.  I think I shall make it my mission to change the way the world looks at these diseases.

Amelia’s Take on “Dear Abby”

Amelia’s been a bit cranky today and I think you will see that come up in this post.  Enjoy! – Sam

*****************************************************************************

 

Image Credie: cartoonstock.com

“DEAR ABBY: I have been married nearly a year. My husband and I were together for five years before that. I am his fourth wife.

 

What’s bothering me is he gets most of his mail delivered to his mother’s — things such as his cell phone bill, his paychecks, etc. Everything he owns is in storage in another country. He makes all his phone calls from work and never receives any at home.

I saw his credit report. He has taken out loans I know nothing about.

I love my husband with all my heart, but am I right to think a marriage isn’t supposed to be this way? I feel he has two lives.

 

– IN THE DARK IN TENNESSEE”

 

Am I the only one that is still hooked on the fact that his mail gets delivered to mommy’s house?  Didn’t we stop doing that, oh…I don’t know, WHEN WE MOVED OUT???  “Oh no honey, I’ve put in a change of address several times but for some reason the Post Office keeps screwing it up!”  Give me a break, moron.

 

Also, you mean to tell me that you dated this guy for five years and either 1) he wasn’t all hush-hush or 2) he was and you married him anyways?  How dumb do you think I am?  Apparently you must think this Abby character is a moron just like you.

 

Let’s get one thing straight sweetie, if the hubby is making secret calls, taking out secret loans that are ruining your credit, and keeping his belongings on the other side of the world, you would be lucky to find out that he’s just cheating on you.  Sounds to me like your little honey bunny has some sort of drug addiction or is paying off his loan sharks and not telling you about it.  You better watch yourself; he may be using your money to hire a hit man to kill you!

 

Here’s my advice to you:

 

1)  In the middle of the night (make sure it’s a work night) pack up everything you own, don’t forget photos, checkbooks, and the spare key to your car.  You also might want to grab the cat/dog/goldfish, throw it all in your car.

 

2) Go into all the bathrooms, remove the shower curtain, hand towels, wash rags, and rugs and throw them in your car.  Also take all Kleenex, napkins, and paper towels.

 

3) Mix powdered laxative in with his coffee, make sure to mix it well so he will never notice anything

 

4) Take all of his clothes and put them in a garbage bag, pour bleach in the bag and place bag in the garage.

 

5) As soon as the bank opens, draw all of the money out of the account and open a new account at a new bank in your name only (assuming he hasn’t ruined your credit with all his secret loans)

 

6)  Call him as you leave the bank.  Be extra sweet and say “I was just checking to see if you were up for work, hope you have a great day!”

 

Calling him ensures that he wakes and now that he has woken up, he might as well get his day started.  He will start by going to the restroom to do his morning “business” and will notice that the shower curtain and towels are missing but think nothing of it.  After scratching himself he will reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is nothing on the roll.  He will lean over, while still perched on the toilet, and open the cabinet door to find a spare roll, that won’t be there.  He will pinch his slimy cheeks and go hunting for something that will work and will find nothing.  At this point he will probably realize that he doesn’t have any clothes on, after finally finding a plastic Wal-Mart bag to wipe his hiney with he will run back to the bedroom to retrieve a shirt and pants. Upon opening the closet he will find that the only clothing left in the house is that little black dress you wore on your first date paired with those super cute stilettos.  He will sigh and throw himself on the bed, near tears.

 

Now the only thing that can cheer him up is a nice warm cup of coffee…

 

 

 

Why do people ask complete strangers to help them with their problems?  I’d like to have a go at this Abby character:

 

 

 

DEAR ABBY: How in heaven’s name do you deal with these people on a day to day basis and not cuss them the hell out?

 

I bet there isn’t even an Abby.  I bet she’s some imaginary character that some asylum inmate has made up to keep himself from having to deal with the daily stress of cheeking pills.  That’s the only logical solution; no sane person could listen to these idiots drivel on day after day and continue to come up with sensible answers.

 

Abby, please tell your schizophrenic host that the best thing he can do for himself at this point is ask for the “good stuff” and go to sleep.  That or bust out of that joint and hit the first liquor store he comes into contact with. 

 

-SHAKING MY HEAD WITH DELUSIONAL THOUGHTS OF STRANGLING SOME “DEAR ABBY” READERS IN TEXAS