Sweetness And Light

6 Mar

A few days ago I told my nephew I was going to change it up a bit with the blog. I decided to write about something I loved rather than document rampant asshattery. BUT THAT SAME DAY, as if The Universe was in a particularly jokey mood, Ben Carson informed me that prison turns people gay. So. He’s pulling back a bit now because hopefully someone he loves smacked him upside the head, BUT he’s not going to address “gay issues” anymore. This presidential candidate. In 2015. Won’t be talking LGBT rights. 


But whatever. I don’t have time for him because I’m still busy castigating my husband because he thought that dress was white. And there’s four inches of ice and snow in my yard and we’re still in danger of waking up speaking Russian and ISIS is destroying an entire culture and someone knifed our ambassador to South Korea and some moron thought a water taxi from Mud Island to Bass Pro Pyramid was a good idea and…

There’s this polar bear.

Memphis Zoo has a daddy polar bear named Payton. He’s from the Chicago area originally and, you know, a polar bear, so he’s not so much born for Memphis weather. The zoo was closed yesterday, but posted a video of Payton hanging out in the snow. LIKE A BOSS.

Payton is named for Walter Payton, also a Chicago Bear. Much like watching his namesake on the field back in the day, Payton will give you joy. That video? Fifty-two seconds of unadulterated bliss. My goal in life is to be as content as that bear. My parents were here for a couple of days and we’ve all watched that video a million times. It’s bookmarked so when we have a crappy day, we can go straight to Payton. If reincarnation is for real, I want to come back as that polar bear at that moment. Either that or one of Martha Stewart’s chow chows. Those dogs have it made.

I’ve just been getting zen with Sweetness for a few minutes because I looked in the mirror. It was either Payton The Polar Bear or Jim Beam The Bourbon. Sweet Gussie, I’m getting old. Natural light is not my friend. Not. My. Friend. Because I don’t get out much, I have, um…I’m not…I don’t dress…I look like hammered snot all the time. Okay, are you happy? I said it. My name is Susan and I haven’t worn pants with a zipper since mid-2013. Bra? Yeah, I used to sell them. I have drawers full of them. They are full because they are not on my body. Makeup? Used to sell that too. I just threw out some Chanel eyeshadow that I know had to be at least 11 years old. It hurt my soul to do it, but one should not keep makeup as one keeps wine.

I decided a few weeks ago, as I’m looking to join the ranks of the employed before I’m legally able to draw Social Security, that I need to start getting dressed, putting on some makeup, not terrifying my husband when he comes home because I look like that girl from The Ring had a baby with Jonathan Winters. I need to start training, as it were. Now, here’s the thing. My friend Brandee used to make fun of me at lunch because after eating, I would line my lips, fill in with my base lipstick, then finish with a gloss or glaze. The process took a minute or two. Now? Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers are about the extent of my makeup wardrobe. Except for concealer. And you can pry my concealer from my cold, dead under-eye circles. I decided to do the makeup thing right and get what I wanted rather than what would make do. The foundation I got is a new formula from an old brand. I’d read good things about it and have always had luck with this particular line. So I ordered it in the color I wore the last time I bought that brand.


 As I said, I don’t get out much. But I soldiered on. I can make it work. It’s just too much drama to return it. So I did. I made it work. And I got this eyeliner that I’ve always loved. Some new mascara, because nothing breeds bacteria like old cheese and mascara. A lipstick or two. I put on my face Wednesday. And The Chuck came home and kept looking at me all

Not used to seeing me with makeup, he says. If you have known me for more than a few years, you know this is about the second to last thing anyone would ever say to me. Second to, “I think your exercise regime is too strenuous,” which is tied with, “You need to add more cheese to your diet.” I didn’t overdo the makeup, but I felt conspicuous. I felt I looked like this


The truth was I really looked like this

realActually, now that I see the picture, I look a little washed out. But the point is, I do not look like a Vegas drag queen stripper after a bender.

And you know what? I don’t care that all anyone talked about this week was llamas and dresses and thank God Carson got off his duff and asked Mrs. Hughes The Question. You know why? I’ll tell you. We have a potential presidential candidate who believes you can convert to Gayism like you can convert a .doc to a .pdf and Alabama wants it to be okay for a Baptist not to perform a wedding ceremony for a Hindu couple. So, yes, while you read this 792 people died of toenail fungus, 201 sloths were forcibly declawed, 903,820 adult humans were denied the right to protest gravity in court, and my neighbor didn’t take his poop bag when he walked his dog.

We need a break, is what I’m saying.

Better With Llamas

26 Feb
  1. xanax for dinnerThrow Llama From The Train
  2. The Boy In The Striped Llama
  3. Llama Turner
  4. The Devil Wears Llama
  5. Sex, Lies, And Llama
  6. The Forsyte Llama
  7. Llama And Child Reunion
  8. Osama Bin Llama
  9. Wilbur Vanderllama
  10. Baby llama drama
  11. Hakuna mallama
  12. Llama Chameleon
  13. Oxford llama
  14. That’s My Llama
  15. I Remember Llama
  16. Llama, I just killed a man…
  17. Hats


The Ways Of Satin

19 Feb


That silky, silky Satin. He will so vivid you to his lies. Satin will wrap you in luxurious sin. Satin knows. Satin doesn’t ask silly questions. Satin understands.  We all know wedded gays will take you down the path to Satin. In satin. It’s like a never-ending spiral of silkiness.  According to a site called Charismanews.com, Bell, a pastor, talked to Oprah about his new book co-written with his wife Kristen, The Zimzum of Love: A New Way of Understanding Marriage, about his feeling that Christianity is–commence pearl-clutching–evolving:

Explaining to Oprah why they included “gay marriage” in their book, Rob said, “One of the oldest aches in the bones of humanity is loneliness. Loneliness is not good for the world. Whoever you are, gay or straight, it is totally normal, natural and healthy to want someone to go through life with. It’s central to our humanity. We want someone to go on the journey with.”

The site continues with, “…what the Bells want to do is take God’s very specific, beautiful blueprint, and radically redesign it in the name of ‘love.'”


How DARE Christians redesign a social construct to fit with a modern definition of another social construct??!!


Just for kicks and giggles, read what this site has to say about the Franklin, Tennessee megachurch pastor Stan Mitchell who decided to take that whole love thy neighbor thing seriously and “allow” them gays to hold offices in the church and marry their homo selves there too.

Mitchell told his congregation—a congregation that includes superstar singer-songwriter Carrie Underwood—that practicing homosexuals can be card-carrying members of his Bible-believing protestant church and can even hold their gay weddings in the sanctuary.

Forget gay marriageNow, here’s where Pastor Stan (You know he makes them call him that. You know it.) and I part company. If you are a practicing homosexual, you’ve got no business being married. Until you turn pro, you just can’t make that kind of commitment. Practice makes perfect. Also? I want to see these membership cards. Is there a secret handshake? I love a secret handshake.




17 Feb


You Proved Me Wrong

13 Feb

Mississippi, my beautiful home state, you proved me wrong. I’ve never been so happy about being wrong.

From US District Court Judge Carlton Reeves at the sentencing of James Craig Anderson’s murderers

Well, That Didn’t Take Long

12 Feb

sweet fancy mosesSee, it’s like riding a bike. My righteous indignation is back!!

Explain to me HOW IS THIS NOT BIG GOVERNMENT? You don’t want regulation of oil companies. You don’t want the government telling companies they have to pay for their employees’ whore pills, but this? This magnificent pile of horse excrement is just dandy? From thinkprogress.org:

A Republican lawmaker in Montana wants to prevent women from wearing leggings as pants, and he hopes that his proposed bill to strengthen the state’s indecent exposure law will be a step in that direction.

This week, State Rep. David Moore (R) introduced House Bill 365, which would outlaw “any device, costume, or covering that gives the appearance of or simulates the genitals, pubic hair, anus region, or pubic hair region.” Under that legislative language, “tight-fitting beige clothing” would likely be banned, according to the local lawmaker.

The Billings Gazette reports that Moore would have preferred to ban yoga pants of all colors; he favors giving the cops the power to arrest people for wearing “provocative” clothing. But HB 365 stops short of that because Moore wasn’t sure whether it would be possible for police to enforce a broader ban.


It’s okay because it’s the state and not the federals? It’s okay because otherwise women might want to dress the way we damn well please even if it’s beyond the scope of taste, reason, and comfort? Men are giant Penis Beasts who can’t control themselves? I’m not sure what we’re about here with the dress codes. People get mad at people whose clothes are too tight, but also mad if they’re too baggy. Take that link if only because the Ocala, FL councilwoman who backs the ban has this to say, “Everyone’s saying I’m targeting young black men…I’m black. I’ve been black for a long time, why would I be targeting black men?” I love everything about that statement. The ridiculous logic. The fact one thing has nothing to do with the other. The idea she may have been born Korean.

Me? I got no issue feeling safe around a dude whose pants are literally around his ankles. What’s he going to do? I mean, he could trip on me to death. And while I wholeheartedly agree that leggings are not pants (FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS), just ask any mother of a middle-schooler: You cannot legislate taste.

I am constantly amazed at the way the faux conservative’s mind works. He believes in personal responsibility, goddammit. But can’t be trusted around women in Lycra. Government can’t tell him where he can pray, but we should lock up Muslims. Laws take away our freedoms, but we should outlaw nipples in public. Even when they are being used for their actual purpose because BOOBIES!

I’m just curious. How will this impact ski pants? Isn’t skiing kind of important for the Montana economy? And can’t those things get a little tight?

I’ll be back Monday when I’ll probably go back to talking about drinking fabric softener.

As I Was Saying…

11 Feb

I’ll just let the narrative of where I’ve been for almost a year unfold on its own. In its own time and way. I’ll briefly say that I stopped reading pretty much anything online except anything about hilarious autocorrect incidents. I don’t care how dumb they are, I love that stuff. I made a pledge not to read anything that baited me with CLICK HERE TO SEE WHAT SHE DID or LEARN THIS ONE WEIRD TRICK. That cut down on about 80% of my internet time. I didn’t totally quit Facebook, but I walked out on Twitter. I wish I could say I went out and got a life, but if you’ve read this blog at all you know that requires pants. And you’ll know how I feel about pants.

Let me also tell you this up front. I will not be talking about vaccinations. I’m not going down that rabbit hole. I’m not going to talk about how completely selfish, ignorant, fatuous, narcissistic, narrow-minded, and totally asshatted it is not to vaccinate/immunize your children. Nope. Go somewhere else for that. Like here, for example.

What I WILL discuss with impunity is 50 Shades. Because that shit is hysterical. I will also discuss house cleaning, periods, marriages, abortion, gays, straights, blacks, whites, other regional person shades, my parents, my husband (THE SAINT, but no longer The Ham King), the birds in my backyard, my crazy friends, I’d talk about my sane friends if I had any, underwear and lack thereof, my discovery of Outlander, text messages from my mother, the crickets in our storage closet, what I learned from not watching news regularly, and my need of suggestions for a really good concealer and a conditioner that doesn’t smell like an overworked stripper dipped in coconut car freshener.

I’m also taking suggestions about what animal, vegetable, or mineral I should replace the YAAT bird with. Or if I should replace it at all. If I shouldn’t then blerghe or she needs a name, so I’m open to that as well. Standard Life Coach will be making an appearance, so email your questions using the contact form on this page.

Several of you have been kind enough to ask after my imaginary twins Sizzlene and Formicadinette. Sadly, their birth mother who lives in one of those square states has regained custody of them after realizing their earning potential in the child beauty pageant business and Formicadinette’s ability to make a casserole from little more than and can of creamed corn and Velveeta. Since the are imaginary, they will never grow older and can make quite a killing off the Babee Lil’ Miss Shiny Eyelash Glamour Tot pageant circuit. I’m happy for them, obviously. And, quite frankly, Sizzlene’s inability to master the twirl-n-curtsy was really getting on my nerves. For those of you concerned about The Ham King’s sanity, I’m happy to report that he still would like a life-size Cylon Centurion and enjoys a good hat. And he’s still practiced in the art of diplomacy, but he is no longer The Ham King. I suppose he is now The Nonmetallic Thermal And Acoustical Insulation Production King, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it. I am extremely happy in his change of kingdoms, as is he.

I was going to finish this post up and go eat delicious homemade chocolate chip and pecan cookies, but I can’t make the damn things. I can’t make chocolate chip cookies. I can make a brown sugar cookie that looks like it should be on the cover of a baking magazine and tastes like eight kinds of heaven, but my chocolate chip cookies ALWAYS come out too cake-like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. But that does mean I have an entire mixing bowl of cookie dough. So there’s that. Any ideas on why EVERY cookie recipe and technique I use comes out wrong would be greatly appreciated. Could it be I’m getting the sugars and butter too fluffy? Maybe it’s my ass’s way of telling me to slow down with the cookies? Whatever, there are no good cookies and no Cheetos in the house, so I haz a sad.

If you are a new reader, welcome. If you are a returning reader, thank you. I shall endeavor to deserve your time. Just kidding. Ima totally waste it and make you have to read Chekhov to get your IQ back up.