DAMN SKIPPY!
Cat Crap and I got good and focused and decided that we would cook up our own enchilada sauce. Never mind that mine was powdered and came in a jar. (WHY WEREN'T WE CONSUMING BEVERAGE$ AS WE COOKED? Oh yeah, it was 10 AM. Why the hell did that stop us?)
Cat Crap's Sauce:
Decidedly spicy, with a hint of tomato.
Fatty's Sauce:
Toasted with a milder flavor and prepared in less than 5 minutes from some powder and oil.
Nex stop "Fatty and Moo-moo's Tamale Shack." Cat Crap: have you ordered that tamale maker yet? I need to take my savings and go to Vegas so I can afford one.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
What I Found Between the Sheets
Please check my eBay store soon. Search under "My_Mama_Wears_a_Bony_Bra.com"
I am scared (pronounced "skerred" in East Texas) to know what sort of S&M factory this came from.
I am scared (pronounced "skerred" in East Texas) to know what sort of S&M factory this came from.
Chapter 7:
Fatty Demands an Apology and Then Writes a Play
So we had a very nice time visiting Cat Crap and the gang for a WHOLE WEEK. For posterior's sake, I will convey the basic punchline of Rufus activity here:
Our scene opens as Boudreaux is behind the curtain, getting into position, breaking a leg, checking his grease-paint beard, and preparing for his off-off-off-off-off-off-off-off-off Broadway debut as the "Short-Person-in-a-Yellow-Tshirt-and-the-Pointlessly-Purcachased-One-Dollar-Girls'-Overalls-Found-at-the-Local-Goodwill", aka the Depressed Dwarf.
Highly ironic behind-the-scenes fact that is highly amusing to our audience but completely un-bee-now-n-st to our primary actors: one of those damn karma culminations is about to erupt in the west-texas-theater-that-has-the-best-damn-accoustics-I-ever-done-heard.
Back flash, in the truest Homeric style...to earlier that week...the four-year-old announces to his dear Auntie with no provocation...
Rufus: "Aunt Choc, My Momma is mean...she's just plain mean."
Cat-Crap-Who-is-Known-by-Many-Names: "Doesn't your Mom do a lot of nice things for you?"
R: "Sometimes, but usually, she's just plain mean."
Transition to earlier that day...with that blurry effect like on Wayne's World (which, by the way, ruined it for me: I cannot stand Kee-an-u Reeves...he is Ted or Bill or whoever with the dumbass Cali-for-neye-uh accent):
R: "Aunt Choc, my Dad is just plain useless."
Cat Crap: "What do you mean?"
R: "Well, he doesn't do anything. He's just useless. Come to think of it, my whole family is useless."
Fade back to real time: The lovely remi-nis-ence is over and here we return back to the theater, with Boudreaux waiting on curtain call, and Fatty reacting, having just been fully informed as to what various mean and useless conversations have been taking place. Fatty cannot help herself. It is embedded in her blood and very being...
Fatty whispers to Rufus: "So, I hear that you say I'm useless and mean."
R: "Yep."
F (still whispering): "I'll show you mean and useless."
R (displays in-quiz-ee-tiv look)
F (whispers): "What are you going to do when I stop washing your underwear?"
R (In a thunderous voice, like the tolling of the bells in that book about the fish with the idiot man, the lion, and the nurse, and loud enough to hear on the back row):
"I WILL FART IN YOUR PANTIES."
Our scene opens as Boudreaux is behind the curtain, getting into position, breaking a leg, checking his grease-paint beard, and preparing for his off-off-off-off-off-off-off-off-off Broadway debut as the "Short-Person-in-a-Yellow-Tshirt-and-the-Pointlessly-Purcachased-One-Dollar-Girls'-Overalls-Found-at-the-Local-Goodwill", aka the Depressed Dwarf.
Highly ironic behind-the-scenes fact that is highly amusing to our audience but completely un-bee-now-n-st to our primary actors: one of those damn karma culminations is about to erupt in the west-texas-theater-that-has-the-best-damn-accoustics-I-ever-done-heard.
Back flash, in the truest Homeric style...to earlier that week...the four-year-old announces to his dear Auntie with no provocation...
Rufus: "Aunt Choc, My Momma is mean...she's just plain mean."
Cat-Crap-Who-is-Known-by-Many-Names: "Doesn't your Mom do a lot of nice things for you?"
R: "Sometimes, but usually, she's just plain mean."
Transition to earlier that day...with that blurry effect like on Wayne's World (which, by the way, ruined it for me: I cannot stand Kee-an-u Reeves...he is Ted or Bill or whoever with the dumbass Cali-for-neye-uh accent):
R: "Aunt Choc, my Dad is just plain useless."
Cat Crap: "What do you mean?"
R: "Well, he doesn't do anything. He's just useless. Come to think of it, my whole family is useless."
Fade back to real time: The lovely remi-nis-ence is over and here we return back to the theater, with Boudreaux waiting on curtain call, and Fatty reacting, having just been fully informed as to what various mean and useless conversations have been taking place. Fatty cannot help herself. It is embedded in her blood and very being...
Fatty whispers to Rufus: "So, I hear that you say I'm useless and mean."
R: "Yep."
F (still whispering): "I'll show you mean and useless."
R (displays in-quiz-ee-tiv look)
F (whispers): "What are you going to do when I stop washing your underwear?"
R (In a thunderous voice, like the tolling of the bells in that book about the fish with the idiot man, the lion, and the nurse, and loud enough to hear on the back row):
"I WILL FART IN YOUR PANTIES."
Midnight Musings
Sittin' on my butt in my plastic rockin chair.....
Wishin' that my pussy would stop sheddin' all its hair....
Had a healthy dinner of tater tots and tea....
Won't sleep good tonight cause i'm sure i'll have to pee....
Feelin kind of grumpy, and I don't know where to start....
Guess I'll scratch my butt and let out a little fart....
[pause]
Now I'm feelin better so I'll write a little more....
Before I get my monkey and head upstairs to snore....
Two more weeks till Vegas and I hope I win the pot....
So I can buy the new appliance that I really want alot....
And if I do then you can know that tamales will be brewin....
And in just a few short minutes you will see them extra-udin....
Those suckers will be shootin out like poop from Rufus' hiney....
And I'll serve them up with Ritas that are green and cold and limey....
Life will be so good and I will curl up with my cat....
And buy myself some moo-moos so I continue being fat.
Wishin' that my pussy would stop sheddin' all its hair....
Had a healthy dinner of tater tots and tea....
Won't sleep good tonight cause i'm sure i'll have to pee....
Feelin kind of grumpy, and I don't know where to start....
Guess I'll scratch my butt and let out a little fart....
[pause]
Now I'm feelin better so I'll write a little more....
Before I get my monkey and head upstairs to snore....
Two more weeks till Vegas and I hope I win the pot....
So I can buy the new appliance that I really want alot....
And if I do then you can know that tamales will be brewin....
And in just a few short minutes you will see them extra-udin....
Those suckers will be shootin out like poop from Rufus' hiney....
And I'll serve them up with Ritas that are green and cold and limey....
Life will be so good and I will curl up with my cat....
And buy myself some moo-moos so I continue being fat.
ARE YOU AS BORED AS I AM?
If the answer to this question is "yes", then check out this fun new game I found:
http://www.lilgames.com/acne_zit_popper_game.shtml
Wish they would come up with an ass verson......
http://www.lilgames.com/acne_zit_popper_game.shtml
Wish they would come up with an ass verson......
Is the lectricity out in the trailer park???????
What the hell goin on in here?
Are the lights out in the trailer park? Did you computer get re-poss-assed? Did the devil dog eat your keyboard? Are you being held hostage by small boys? Are ya sittin' on the toilet waitin for a rainbow???? GET YOUR ASS ON YOUR COMPUTER AND ENTERTAIN ME!!!!!!!!
Don't you know I have no life and you are my sole source of entertainment????
Signed,
Ruby in Trailer #2
Are the lights out in the trailer park? Did you computer get re-poss-assed? Did the devil dog eat your keyboard? Are you being held hostage by small boys? Are ya sittin' on the toilet waitin for a rainbow???? GET YOUR ASS ON YOUR COMPUTER AND ENTERTAIN ME!!!!!!!!
Don't you know I have no life and you are my sole source of entertainment????
Signed,
Ruby in Trailer #2
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Current Threat Level: Elevated
Rufus and Cat Crap have been discussing bodily functions, and Rufus now has a handy dandy color-coded system for how to interpret all extrusions. He can recite this word-for-word and is just chomping at the bit for the first show-and-tell day of the 2005 preschool season:
If it's yellow, let it mellow.
If it's brown, flush it down.
If it's green, check your spleen.
If it's red, you're dead.
If it's pink, it stinks!
If it's black, put it back.
If it's gold, it's old.
If it's silver...take it to the bank.
As "she who birthed the mouth," I get a 10% cut off any valuable deposits!
If it's yellow, let it mellow.
If it's brown, flush it down.
If it's green, check your spleen.
If it's red, you're dead.
If it's pink, it stinks!
If it's black, put it back.
If it's gold, it's old.
If it's silver...take it to the bank.
As "she who birthed the mouth," I get a 10% cut off any valuable deposits!
Wisdom of Rufus #621
Rufus:
Well, MOTHER, you KNOW that God and Jesus created everythng.
Except the roads. People built the roads.
Fatty:
Well, then, where did everything else come from?
Rufus:
Walmart.
Well, MOTHER, you KNOW that God and Jesus created everythng.
Except the roads. People built the roads.
Fatty:
Well, then, where did everything else come from?
Rufus:
Walmart.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Wisdom of Rufus #618
Dear God: Thank you for helping us know which paths lead us home.
(Posted by Fatty using Cat Crap's account)
(Posted by Fatty using Cat Crap's account)
Friday, June 17, 2005
Great Ba'Hai!
What the Hell is FATTY OXIDATION?
Those sneaky google people make specially designed ads show up on your web pages. This was one was linked to mine today:
Fatty Oxidation Disorders
So if Fatty is Oxidized, then does that mean I've been huffin' and puffin' too much? Does it mean that Rufus's constant oral ruminations have depleted my brain of air?
The cure for Fatty's Oxidation must be for everyone to just shut up. I'd say that a good ol shower or a cold beer would help out, too.
Fatty Oxidation Disorders
So if Fatty is Oxidized, then does that mean I've been huffin' and puffin' too much? Does it mean that Rufus's constant oral ruminations have depleted my brain of air?
The cure for Fatty's Oxidation must be for everyone to just shut up. I'd say that a good ol shower or a cold beer would help out, too.
and lo there was swimming pigs
and lo there was swimming pigs
Originally uploaded by Annie Kaint Work No Mo.
The Word of the Lord: and the meek shall inherit the earth. How U gonna feel when them hoggies get 2 vote jes like U do? Mite be sooner than U think. They tell me they ain't swimmin til they sees food a-floating in the water. Wonner if Lucy would like to take a lil swim?
Yo Mama has spoken
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Opus 615: [Untitled]
HEY CAT CRAP!
How 'bout a rap?
Open up yer cavity
And let yer lips flap!
HEY CAT CRAP!
What's up with that?
Yank off yer girdle
And put on yer hat!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Ready with the cart?
Cause we're headed right for ya,
Fatty, Boudreaux, and The Tart!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Don't throw a fit.
Just take a drink and give a scratch
To yer ol Peety Pit!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Who loves ya, Sis?
If you'd post some poetry,
I wouldn't have to post this!
HEY CAT CRAP!
How 'bout a rap?
Open up yer cavity
And let yer lips flap!
How 'bout a rap?
Open up yer cavity
And let yer lips flap!
HEY CAT CRAP!
What's up with that?
Yank off yer girdle
And put on yer hat!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Ready with the cart?
Cause we're headed right for ya,
Fatty, Boudreaux, and The Tart!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Don't throw a fit.
Just take a drink and give a scratch
To yer ol Peety Pit!
HEY CAT CRAP!
Who loves ya, Sis?
If you'd post some poetry,
I wouldn't have to post this!
HEY CAT CRAP!
How 'bout a rap?
Open up yer cavity
And let yer lips flap!
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Walmart and God's Revenge: The Hairy Peety Pit
I don't know about you, but I had Hallmark Card visions of how the big birds-n-bees discussion would happen with my children:
We would be laying in bed, having just finished a peaceful before-bedtime story about how Ba'hai defeated the Devil Dog with nothing but a ball of yarn and a spork, when a sweet angellic face would gaze up to me with wondering, trusting eyes and say, "Dear Mother, Where do babies come from?" And of course, I would a handle the whole situation with a plum and a graceful coop de grass. And everyone would sleep and be quiet and I would go drink a large beer mug full of Strawberry Hill. And of course, this wouldn't happen until the child was 17 or 18.
But like most things in list (re: the karma thing discussed below), you can't plan for it.
There we were at 3 PM on an unusually-hot-June-afternoon in the parking lot of a Super Wal-mart. A place that should be avoided at all costs whenever possible. I had just walked out of the sliding doors to hell, with two boys and some groceries packed into one of those Mac trucks that they provide for "super breeders" with more than one child, the ones with that whole back area devoted to wrapping and strapping children so the Mini-Me's cannot escape while I'm studying various scents of deoderant. The basket is heavy on its own. Add groceries and 100 pounds of hellions-in-training, turn the heater on full blast, and spray some "ode to an armpit" air freshener, and you have the picture.
As I am pushing this load out to the car, trying not to him-ridge brain cells, Boudreaux turns and asks,
"Mom, where do babies come from?"
Fatty: (silence)
[Fatty's Panicked Brain: If I ignore this, it will go away.]
B: "I said, Mom, where do babies come from?"
[FPB: Stork? Magic? Twinkies? GOOD GOD HELP ME!]
B: "Mom, why aren't you answering me?"
F: "Babies come from their mother's tummies."
B: "I know that. But how do they get there?"
[FPB: How can I make this easy? Can't I lie?!?]
F: "From an egg inside the mommy."
B: "I KNOW THAT. But how does it turn into a baby?"
[FPB: Sweet Jesus! Do we really have to have this conversation in the Walmart parking lot, right here with the grease spots and the open McDonald's cups and the nasty old black birds and the hicks in their overalls with no shirts and the heat and the groceries and is this what death is going to be like I'm just going to have a heart attack in the Walmart parking lot and die here in the sun, right here in the most un-graceful, noxious place in the universe? is this really where these moments have to happen? oh well, you get what you get and you don't throw a friggin' fit.]
F: "The Daddy has some special stuff that makes the egg turn into a baby."
[FPB: Whew! That was good. Now maybe he'll shut up and ruminate on that for a while.]
B: "Okay, but how does that get to the egg?"
[FPB: WWBD! WHAT WOULD BUMPUS DO?!? Bumpus would get a napkin from the bar and draw a diagram and then he would laugh and drink his beer and life would be okay. So where is the bar? where...is...THE...BEER?]
F: "The Daddy puts the stuff inside the Mommy?"
B: "Right, but how?"
[FPB: AAAAAaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhh!]
F: "He uses his Peety."
[FPB: Ha! That'll fix em. Now they both have something to think about (Rufus has been listening intently so he can repeat this at vacation bible school). I've shocked them with my stealthy frankness and now they'll leave me alone.]
B: "But HOW does he use his Peety?"
[FPB: GOOD GOD IS THERE NO MERCY?]
F: "He puts his Peety inside the Mommy."
(Seriously questioning looks from both Boudreaux and Rufus)
[FPB: A HA! Take THAT!]
B: "Where?"
F: "Through an opening in her bottom."
B: (silence)
F: "You know...girls don't have Peetys."
B and R: "HAAAAAAAA haaaa haaa! Girls don't have Peetys! Can you buh-leeve it?!?"
B: "Then how do girls go to the bathroom?"
[FPB: And lo, I am defeated...I will succumb and provide all requested information in audience-appropriate terms.]
F: "Girls have three areas on their bottoms: one for tee-tee, one for poop, and one for babies."
B: "But how does that work with the Daddy?"
F: "Well, the Mommy's part is sort of inverted, on the inside, so it sort of matches up with the Dad's peety."
Rufus: "And it's called THE HAIRY PEETY PIT!"
And yea, my suffering was ending by raw-kus laughter, the repeated screaming of "MOMMY's GOT A HAIRY PEETY PIT," and the chance to put my groceries in the car.
We would be laying in bed, having just finished a peaceful before-bedtime story about how Ba'hai defeated the Devil Dog with nothing but a ball of yarn and a spork, when a sweet angellic face would gaze up to me with wondering, trusting eyes and say, "Dear Mother, Where do babies come from?" And of course, I would a handle the whole situation with a plum and a graceful coop de grass. And everyone would sleep and be quiet and I would go drink a large beer mug full of Strawberry Hill. And of course, this wouldn't happen until the child was 17 or 18.
But like most things in list (re: the karma thing discussed below), you can't plan for it.
There we were at 3 PM on an unusually-hot-June-afternoon in the parking lot of a Super Wal-mart. A place that should be avoided at all costs whenever possible. I had just walked out of the sliding doors to hell, with two boys and some groceries packed into one of those Mac trucks that they provide for "super breeders" with more than one child, the ones with that whole back area devoted to wrapping and strapping children so the Mini-Me's cannot escape while I'm studying various scents of deoderant. The basket is heavy on its own. Add groceries and 100 pounds of hellions-in-training, turn the heater on full blast, and spray some "ode to an armpit" air freshener, and you have the picture.
As I am pushing this load out to the car, trying not to him-ridge brain cells, Boudreaux turns and asks,
"Mom, where do babies come from?"
Fatty: (silence)
[Fatty's Panicked Brain: If I ignore this, it will go away.]
B: "I said, Mom, where do babies come from?"
[FPB: Stork? Magic? Twinkies? GOOD GOD HELP ME!]
B: "Mom, why aren't you answering me?"
F: "Babies come from their mother's tummies."
B: "I know that. But how do they get there?"
[FPB: How can I make this easy? Can't I lie?!?]
F: "From an egg inside the mommy."
B: "I KNOW THAT. But how does it turn into a baby?"
[FPB: Sweet Jesus! Do we really have to have this conversation in the Walmart parking lot, right here with the grease spots and the open McDonald's cups and the nasty old black birds and the hicks in their overalls with no shirts and the heat and the groceries and is this what death is going to be like I'm just going to have a heart attack in the Walmart parking lot and die here in the sun, right here in the most un-graceful, noxious place in the universe? is this really where these moments have to happen? oh well, you get what you get and you don't throw a friggin' fit.]
F: "The Daddy has some special stuff that makes the egg turn into a baby."
[FPB: Whew! That was good. Now maybe he'll shut up and ruminate on that for a while.]
B: "Okay, but how does that get to the egg?"
[FPB: WWBD! WHAT WOULD BUMPUS DO?!? Bumpus would get a napkin from the bar and draw a diagram and then he would laugh and drink his beer and life would be okay. So where is the bar? where...is...THE...BEER?]
F: "The Daddy puts the stuff inside the Mommy?"
B: "Right, but how?"
[FPB: AAAAAaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhh!]
F: "He uses his Peety."
[FPB: Ha! That'll fix em. Now they both have something to think about (Rufus has been listening intently so he can repeat this at vacation bible school). I've shocked them with my stealthy frankness and now they'll leave me alone.]
B: "But HOW does he use his Peety?"
[FPB: GOOD GOD IS THERE NO MERCY?]
F: "He puts his Peety inside the Mommy."
(Seriously questioning looks from both Boudreaux and Rufus)
[FPB: A HA! Take THAT!]
B: "Where?"
F: "Through an opening in her bottom."
B: (silence)
F: "You know...girls don't have Peetys."
B and R: "HAAAAAAAA haaaa haaa! Girls don't have Peetys! Can you buh-leeve it?!?"
B: "Then how do girls go to the bathroom?"
[FPB: And lo, I am defeated...I will succumb and provide all requested information in audience-appropriate terms.]
F: "Girls have three areas on their bottoms: one for tee-tee, one for poop, and one for babies."
B: "But how does that work with the Daddy?"
F: "Well, the Mommy's part is sort of inverted, on the inside, so it sort of matches up with the Dad's peety."
Rufus: "And it's called THE HAIRY PEETY PIT!"
And yea, my suffering was ending by raw-kus laughter, the repeated screaming of "MOMMY's GOT A HAIRY PEETY PIT," and the chance to put my groceries in the car.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Boudreaux...Look at the Size Uh Them Feet!
No, actually he looks like his Daddy. Don't you think so, Bumpus?
Don't Jus Sit There Waitin, Ain't Gonna Happen
I got my good ole digital and went to the rear end of the
fishing boat and askt Barbie iffin I could photograph her
dog with no hair and she said Matey as taken her a.m. nap.
Then The Captain and his buddy on the other boat decides
to move us to a more uptown location, so we pulled up and
untied them ropes and here we are at Sampson Cay. So youse
won't be seeing any pikture of Barbie and Matey unless they
have the poor taste to follow us here. Barbie's boat name
was "Terri's Sea Cret". For a minit though she meant Sucret.
Wonner what her sea-cret is anyway.
Also parked next to us at the former place was a sudden
arrival new neighbor from Pray, MT. Name of that boat was
"Evy's Angel II". Thought I had it made. Soon as they
stopped that big 58' tub they started their washing and ran
3 loads right quick, all the soap came our way. I hollered
to my friend Patty "Hallelujah, my problems are solved. I
don't have to be hikin up the hill with my dirty clothes no
more, a laundromat has moved into the neighborhood." Patty
quickly shut her door. Heck, I don't be caring if I insult
the laundromat - I just wanting some help with all the dirty
clothes and towels that The Captain keeps churning out.
We're now parked on our water-based 5th wheel at a place
called Sampson Cay. The water is too beautiful to believe
and the folks here got some class. Guess that means I have
to start wearing my nice boatin clothes stead of the stained,
ripped and too-little ones. Still gonna wear my [special] hat
when I have to do [special] chores. My goal is 2 self-photo
me with my hat and put it here so you kin know what I look
like as a washer woman, maid, cook, dishwasher, cleaning
woman.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX yo mama
fishing boat and askt Barbie iffin I could photograph her
dog with no hair and she said Matey as taken her a.m. nap.
Then The Captain and his buddy on the other boat decides
to move us to a more uptown location, so we pulled up and
untied them ropes and here we are at Sampson Cay. So youse
won't be seeing any pikture of Barbie and Matey unless they
have the poor taste to follow us here. Barbie's boat name
was "Terri's Sea Cret". For a minit though she meant Sucret.
Wonner what her sea-cret is anyway.
Also parked next to us at the former place was a sudden
arrival new neighbor from Pray, MT. Name of that boat was
"Evy's Angel II". Thought I had it made. Soon as they
stopped that big 58' tub they started their washing and ran
3 loads right quick, all the soap came our way. I hollered
to my friend Patty "Hallelujah, my problems are solved. I
don't have to be hikin up the hill with my dirty clothes no
more, a laundromat has moved into the neighborhood." Patty
quickly shut her door. Heck, I don't be caring if I insult
the laundromat - I just wanting some help with all the dirty
clothes and towels that The Captain keeps churning out.
We're now parked on our water-based 5th wheel at a place
called Sampson Cay. The water is too beautiful to believe
and the folks here got some class. Guess that means I have
to start wearing my nice boatin clothes stead of the stained,
ripped and too-little ones. Still gonna wear my [special] hat
when I have to do [special] chores. My goal is 2 self-photo
me with my hat and put it here so you kin know what I look
like as a washer woman, maid, cook, dishwasher, cleaning
woman.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX yo mama
El Chuck Roast del Beelzebub!
Well, that Minnie Pearl of the Cat World may win the beauty contest, but our local haus de hades has taken up extreme sports. SO THERE!
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Yo Mama Is Here and She is Pissed
Here I was asittin here mindin my own biz when a tall
skinny fishing boat with a high-up-tuna-tower on top
of it moved from one boat spot to another and plopped
right in front of my north-bound doorway. To top it
all off the inhabitants include a Barbie doll with long
stringy blond tresses pulled threw her boatin hat and a
head held in just the same position as Barbie does. On
the boat also in a swarthy man in a black Euro skinny
bathing suit and he is certain he The Gift To The World.
Got a sheep dog too, with a summer haircut like Lucy
has. Lucy does not like the sheep dog and she barks at
it whether it be there or not. I'll try to get some
photos to go along with this new-neighbor-scenario. Will
find out also if they have a blog so we kin get to know
them better. Not tellin 'em my real name, but the parole
officer wears his name all day ever day on his shirt so
he kin remember who he is so they already got that impor
tant info. Won't give 'em your names tho. More to follow.
Yo Mama
skinny fishing boat with a high-up-tuna-tower on top
of it moved from one boat spot to another and plopped
right in front of my north-bound doorway. To top it
all off the inhabitants include a Barbie doll with long
stringy blond tresses pulled threw her boatin hat and a
head held in just the same position as Barbie does. On
the boat also in a swarthy man in a black Euro skinny
bathing suit and he is certain he The Gift To The World.
Got a sheep dog too, with a summer haircut like Lucy
has. Lucy does not like the sheep dog and she barks at
it whether it be there or not. I'll try to get some
photos to go along with this new-neighbor-scenario. Will
find out also if they have a blog so we kin get to know
them better. Not tellin 'em my real name, but the parole
officer wears his name all day ever day on his shirt so
he kin remember who he is so they already got that impor
tant info. Won't give 'em your names tho. More to follow.
Yo Mama
Friday, June 10, 2005
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Monday, June 06, 2005
Ch 6, Lesson 8:
Go Ba'hai Yerself,
O' Ye Negatively Bouyant
Beast of the Netherworld!
Originally uploaded by Fatty Will Rule the World!.
Ch 6, Lesson 7:
And Lo, He Laid His Eyes Upon Me and
Steadied Himself for the Kill
Originally uploaded by Fatty Will Rule the World!.
Ch 6, Lesson 6:
Pre-teen boys do strange things. Like get the swing going as high as they can, fly out, and land flat on their faces in the dirt. Over and over again.
I am pretty sure of two things: (1) this one had been temporarily excommunicated from his family's trailer and (2) his Rit'lin needed an adjustment.
I am pretty sure of two things: (1) this one had been temporarily excommunicated from his family's trailer and (2) his Rit'lin needed an adjustment.
Ch 6, Lesson 5:
Camper covetting is mortal sin number 8.
I've sent Rufus and Beaudreax to the Baptist Vacation Bible School in order to repent, after a strict lecture to Rufus about "things we ONLY talk about at home and things we talk about in public."
I've sent Rufus and Beaudreax to the Baptist Vacation Bible School in order to repent, after a strict lecture to Rufus about "things we ONLY talk about at home and things we talk about in public."
Ch 6, Lesson 4:
Back in them stoner ages, when everyone had long hair, ran around necked, and ate mary-ju-wanna brownies, those Dutch people must have lived in Texas, because one of 'em left their shoes behind.
Ch 6, Lesson 3:
Girls in low riders should stay away from see-saws.
Rufus's comment: "Look ma! You can almost see clear down to her rectal cavity!"
Rufus's comment: "Look ma! You can almost see clear down to her rectal cavity!"
Ch 6, Lesson 2:
An inverse relationship exists between the length of the tongue and the size of the jowls.
Too bad the same inversion does not apply to my boobs and my jowls.
Too bad the same inversion does not apply to my boobs and my jowls.
Chapter 6: Lessons Fatty Learned
Lesson #1:
Even a highly edge-y-kated park ranger cannot tell the diff'rnce between a Coke and a Tecate with fresh lime, even in broad day light.
This and the following lessons may not be in the least amount amusing, but since I have in the mean time decided that this family blog will be my children's in-hairy-tense, I guess I better post something. Besides that, Mama's off on that two and a half month bass fishing trip with her parole officer, and she might want to know what's going on back here in the swamp.
Even a highly edge-y-kated park ranger cannot tell the diff'rnce between a Coke and a Tecate with fresh lime, even in broad day light.
This and the following lessons may not be in the least amount amusing, but since I have in the mean time decided that this family blog will be my children's in-hairy-tense, I guess I better post something. Besides that, Mama's off on that two and a half month bass fishing trip with her parole officer, and she might want to know what's going on back here in the swamp.
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