Tag Archives: ranting

Please Don’t Squeeze The Ultimate Intimate Cleansing Experience

9 Feb

Note to my mommy: I’m sorry. I know it’s eskimo and you are making that face right now.

Note to readers: My mommy would want you to know she raised a lady who doesn’t talk about this kind of thing. I haven’t actually met this woman, but I hear she exists.


Do you use the toilet? Are you filthy rich? Do you wish you could make going potty more difficult and time consuming? Have I got the thing for you! bottomsup

Josephs is toilet paper. Except it’s not. It’s an experience. It’s a “microcosm of form and function” made from “tender virgin new-growth fibres”. Even better, “the dendritic structure of the inner core provides optimal absorption while the outer layers act as moisture barrier for wet use.” All this is according to the–admittedly beautiful–website. And that’s just the wipe! We haven’t even gotten to the “hypoallergenic debriding and detoxifying cleanser,” or the moisturizer with “soothing and nourishing emollients,” that “are quickly absorbed by the skin and support the immune system by enhancing the skin’s resilience as a protective barrier.” And, as if that’s not enough, the moisturizer’s “delicate fragrance completes the feeling of pristine perfection”.

Are you with me?

This is a dry adult butt wipe that can be moistened and then used to apply moisturizer to you delicate chapped ass. As my friend Left Wing Cracker said, it’s for the delicate sphincter. Now, ladeez, we all know we stink. And we know our gynecologists beat us with their speculums (specula?) whenever we mention something about cleaning our netherlands with anything that “debrides”, but did I mention you’re stinky? So.

Now. What would you pay to bathe your touchus with the fibers of virgins and a cleanser that sounds suspiciously like Evian?

How about $275?

I’ll just wait while you get up from the floor, resuscitate yourself, and clean the coffee off your screen from where you just spit it out.

That’s two months of fresh, clean, yodeling yoni. If you’re not totally committed, you can get the starter kit for only $110. It doesn’t actually say how long that lasts. I guess it depends how much Taco Bell you eat or if your period is…never mind.

Let’s say you LOVE LOVE LOVE the Joseph Badonkadonk Bedewing System. It’s not gonna fit on a standard toilet roll holder. It’s not on a roll, remember. Because that’s disgusting. No, you need to consult the Joseph Furniture section. If you’re a true connoisseur of the Joseph system and want to telegraph your love for nature, let me recommend The Joséphier in Natural Warped Ebony Macassar for only $1100. For you beach house, you can just use the basic brushed stainless for only $550. For your sex room or men’s club (often the same thing), I recommend the hand-wrapped leather model for $950.


You know what I love about this stuff? Everything.

I really super-love how the site makes this huge deal of how natural and environmental it is as opposed to regular toilet paper for troglodytes and oil-guzzling hillbillies. Why should I walk up to Dollar General and get a disgusting 12-pack of Charmin Basic that’s wrapped in a disgusting petrochemical skin when I could spend upwards of $1300 on a two-month supply of wipes wrapped with a ribbon, cleanser and moisturizer packed in plastic that’s then wrapped for shipping, put in a plane, flown from Switzerland, stuck on a diesel truck, and delivered to my door where it’s placed in a dead tree or cow hide and bolted to the wall. Plus, I gotta have a maid whose only job is to retie that bow after each of my four children (Chard, Proton, Toile, and Glacier)  has had a dump and flush.

I love that the starter kit is going into the swag bags at the Oscars. I LOVE the idea of George and Amal arguing about who’s going to run over to Geneva to pick up a pack of tender virgin cellulose because SOMEONE forgot to get it when he was in Zurich last week and SOMEONE ELSE had to use Cottonelle and is now going to have to book a SECOND ANAL BLEACH THIS MONTH because of the redness, YOU CAD!

Joseph, if you’re listening. I will totally be your spokesbutt.

What The Hell?

8 Dec

What the hell is going on? I mean, WHAT. THE. HELL? I just stood up from my desk and applauded Paul Ryan for something other than that awesome beard he’s working on.

We have got to stop leaving milk on the porch for Trump. I think it’s a brilliant move by Hillary’s people to put him on the payroll. Talk about a strategy. Make the other guy look batsh…wait. I am just being informed the talking hairball is not actually on Hillary’s payroll. He’s an actual GOP candidate.giphy

So, we’re going to ban Muslims. Welp, we already thought they should go around nekkid, so I guess that’s a logical next step. We do love a good ban. And they always work so well. Those bans on Chinese and liquor worked out pretty well, right? And so cost effective.

While I’m wound up, THERE IS NO WAR ON CHRISTMAS. Every year we do this same thing. WHO is telling you to shove it when you say “Merry Christmas?” I think maybe the issue isn’t a war on Christmas, it’s more like you’re hanging out with assholes. If you think there’s a war on Christmas, stop shopping. That will cause a detente PDQ.

jingle deez

I get it. The country is becoming brown and you’re scared. Look, you cannot get more WASP than I am. My blood is not red. It’s madras plaid. My parents referred to my afternoon feedings as cocktail time. My church has a Bloody Mary bar. My family goes back to the first white settlers up in this here country. And you know what? I ain’t skeerd. Of course I have a uterus, and that means I’m better regulated than an AK, so I’m pretty safe.

Many Americans don’t know that the first draft of the Second Amendment was actually, “A well-regulated uterus, being necessary for the security of a free State…” It didn’t stay that way. When the delegate–whose name is lost to time–got to “uterus”, the other delegates were all like, “EEEEEEWWW! Lady bits! Forsooth! Brah, you’ve been bewitched. Change it to militia and we’re good. Now, who wants a brewski? Sam’s been working on a pumpkin ale.” But the ghost of that patriot uterus still haunts our national policy. Much like the idea that the little-known delegate Josiah Montrose Starbuck had for hot pumpkin spice drinks which he wrote on the back of a draft of the Third Amendment, and was not found until 2004 when an enterprising ancestor thought it might be nice in the fall.


In conclusion, GET OFF MY YARD!


My Theory Of Some Of It

18 Jun

I have this theory that if I spend a few hours a day thinking really hard, concentrating like orange juice, I can reduce the size of my butt. I figure that I’ll be expending energy with all that thinking and that it will be like exercise. Further, my theory states the fat will melt off my prodigious posterior and not, say, my delicate wrists, because I’m concentrating (like orange juice) specifically on my Buttfatt™.

Now, when I say “theory”, I mean like how your Uncle Merle has a theory about the gubment controlling the weather with contrails. I mean it in an idiomatic sense. I do not mean it scientifically. A scientific theory is different–vastly–from my grandmother’s theory that all weekend operators were bitter spinsters otherwise they wouldn’t be working the weekend. 

I also start many sentences with, “theoretically”. Like I’ll say to my beloved, “Theoretically, if you were going to poison me, where would you hide my body?” Or, “Theoretically, if a bear and a fox played rock paper scissors, would the bear always play paper and the fox always play scissors?”

Each time I use “theory” in those contexts, a scientist’s head explodes. In theory.

Here are two things I know about scientists:

  1. They don’t like girls.
  2. They hate it when you use “theory” to describe things like how you think Obama created Ebola in his bathroom lab.

Okay, so maybe only half that list is true for most scientists. The ones I know, anyway. Admittedly, I don’t know many because they tend to leave my presence when I say things like, “Have you ever wanted to mate a cockroach with a racoon?” Or, “Do you ever get really baked and play with mercury?”

In science, a theory is the interpretation of facts. Evidence is presented to support a hypothesis. It is tested and debated. It takes years, decades even. It’s not like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew wakes up, thinks, “Wow! I bet that if you bury a bunch of half-full [scientists are always optimists] paint cans in the earth, it might be bad!” Then he goes and fires off a paper to Important Science Stuff Monthly. And then everyone reads it and is all, OOOH! Yes, let’s make this the law of the land! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!!

No one denies the sun shines on the earth at different times. That’s because of rotation and revolution and whatnot. Guess what? That whole business is a scientific theory. JUST LIKE EVOLUTION. JUST LIKE CLIMATE CHANGE.

And? Further? The Pope doesn’t need to be a scientist (even though the argument could be made he is) to advance the theory of climate change. Christians are supposed to be stewards of the earth. Dude gets it, I’ll give him that. At the end of the day, do you really believe releasing massive amounts of carbon monoxide into the air or burying petroleum-based products in the soil won’t harm our earth? Saying that Pope Francis shouldn’t have an opinion on global warming is ridiculous. What is the line that says it’s fine for him to interfere in a decision my doctor (a scientist) and I make about my reproductive health, but not about climate change?

People make me crazy. I have a theory they do it on purpose. Excuse me now. I seem to have misplaced my tinfoil hat.

Problems Sister and Stella-Rondo Never Had

26 Mar

I would like to take this day behind the barn and dispatch with it swiftly. I had to go to the post office. TWO post offices (posts office?), in fact. The first one was to pick up a package.

See, what had happened was I wasn’t wearing pants and I was on the phone with my bank. As one does. I couldn’t get to the door in time and didn’t get my package. My lovely postman rang several times because he’s obviously been there before and knows I’m often wiping Nutella off my face before I answer the door. Now, my friend Desi was a bit stumped at this because don’t all Southern ladies have bathrobes? Well, yeah, I reckon. But that never occurred to me, honestly.  Probably because my bank was calling to verify two very legitimate charges, which I appreciated since last year I had THREE different debit cards due to security breeches. Note to self, find another bank. Anyway, I was so stunned that they were actually like monitoring stuff that all I could do was kind of freeze in place, my phone in one hand, and my precious cargo being loaded back up and taken away.

Taken away to the depths of the Mendenhall Post Office. Where it could not be found. So. That should have been a sign, BUT OH NO! Did I heed said sign? No. No, I did not. For I am an idiot of the highest caliber. For various reasons, I needed a mailbox. So I’d gotten one online at a post office location that I preferred. I printed out everything the site told me, got all my ID (strangely, no one accepts one’s belly button as proof of birth), and trekked to Southern Avenue. BIG mistake. Let me just cut to the chase. By the time I got back in my car, I had no post office box and I was in tears.

By Billy Hathorn (National Portrait Gallery, public domain.) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons


This is why EVERYTHING at the post office should be done by machines. Machines do not tell you things like it does not have to do what the website says. Machines do not tell you, “Y’all just don’t know. Y’all don’t know how to fill out a form. Y’all can’t come in here with stuff ain’t doing you no good.” This woman was the most heinous individual I have ever encountered, and I once got stuck in a KKK rally in Brandon, Mississippi. Truth. So I went and finished my errands, got home, canceled my mailbox online, and wrote a complaint that was, as my friend Dean says, pointed yet poignant. I know USPS doesn’t care.  I know nothing will be said to this woman, and even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. Some people are just toxic.

Over the years, I interviewed many people for many jobs, most of which dealt with the public in some form. There are a few guidelines I had when interviewing candidates.

  1.  Did the person smile? You honestly have NO IDEA how many people go into an interview for a customer service job and never smile. WHY would I want you as the face of my business? FAKE IT! If you aren’t looking at me like I’m Gary Collins and you’re Miss Alabama, this ain’t working.
  2. “The customer is always right” is a phrase that will NEVER get you hired. One, the customer is rarely right. Two, it doesn’t matter. Three, put a little elbow into your answers. Don’t give me trite crap I know isn’t true. Such as
  3. “I’m a people person.” Here’s who says that. People who hate people. I’m a people person. Never said I like people. Now, unless you truly are like Frankenstein’s monster and are MADE OF PEOPLE, leave that shit at home.
  4. “I love helping people.” Go work for Red Cross. We’re here to make money. People who say they love helping people are the ones who get busted shoveling extra bras into their friends’ shopping bags.
  5. “I’d just love to play in clothes/shoes/makeup/tablecloths/small appliances all day.” This ain’t Ronald’s playground. I’m paying you to work. If you happen to like it, great, but it’s NOT play. Unless you are telling me that you play the tuba in your spare time (which you fully understand will be nonexistent if you take this job), “play” should not be used in an interview.
  6. A customer service job is not the place to take out your revenge on the world. The customer is not your enemy, no matter what you may feel, think, and what your loss prevention manager tells you. If you’re telling me nothing but horror stories about service, I’m going to start to think YOU’RE the problem.
  7. A smooth transaction can change a person’s day. This is the honest to God truth. You can be having the worst day ever. Run in your hose. Zayn left One Direction. There’s a black fly in your chardonnay. But one joke from the woman at Freds about how those select-a-size towels probably have a Napoleon complex, and it looks a lot better.
  8. A terrible transaction can change a person’s day. This is the honest to God truth. You can be having the best day ever. You don’t have to wear pants. Black Sabbath decide to play your favorite neighborhood bar. Someone gives you something besides chardonnay. But one “I don’t have to do ANYTHING the website says,” and you are suspended between hopelessness and rage to the extant you both clutch your pearls AND say screw everything, go to Taco Bell, and binge on Netflix and remorse the rest of the day. Because
  9. PEOPLE SUCK. We all suck. We’re all egotistical, shallow, self-aggrandizing assholes. You know why Ghandi was a pacifist? He never had to stand on line at the DMV. He never had a toddler who decided to eat nothing but Gummi Bears for two weeks straight only to suddenly THROW A FIT AND FALL INTO IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WINN-DIXIE because HOW DARE YOU??? Did you not intuit that three seconds ago your toddler decided to HATE Gummi Bears and now only wants hot dogs with ketchup, in a bun, but the crust taken off, served on the YELLOW PLATE while you sing “The Bing Bong Song” from Peppa Pig???!!!

I know there isn’t anything nearly as trite as complaining about a government agency, but cliches are cliches because they’ve happened enough to be cliche. People with absolutely no power anywhere else in life will always try to create a superpower at work. When there are no consequences for actions, people do what we do. We act like jerks. I did cancel my order, I did write a complaint, and I know that nothing will change because I am the only one in this situation who was inconvenienced. No one else has a stake. It’s the post office, where else am I going to go? So I go get a mail drop. Still the USPS. What the woman wanted, she got. She wanted to tell someone no. She wanted to know–or act as if she knew–more than someone else because she has absolutely no power. People who throw fits and fall in them are no different from that toddler. And when we do that, we’re telling the other person, “YOU are responsible for my behavior,” rather than taking responsibility ourselves. Unfortunately, this woman today exercised her no-power with me. I don’t show emotion with this kind of deal. I don’t get loud. In fact, I get like Alec Baldwin quiet. I speak very distinctly. I ask how we’re going to fix this. Most of the time, it works and we all move on. Today? Not so much. Not only did we not fix the problem, she didn’t get to see me get upset. So we both lost.

Also? That package was missing two items.

In short, I hate everything. But you knew that.

Notes From A Doctor’s Waiting Room

4 Mar
  1. xanax for dinner It is too cold in the waiting room. This, according to the ladies nearest me. It is apparently a conspiracy that has something to do with insurance fraud.
  2. The coffee table is too small for this space.
  3. The same ladies who are cold and find the interior decorating lacking have just recited the weather report for the next. ten. days.
  4. If you need to feel young and vital, hang out in the waiting room of an eye clinic that primarily does cataract surgery.
  5. All contemporary Christian music sounds the same.
  6. I had forgotten how OBSESSED people in South Mississippi are with precipitation of any sort.
  7. Walmart is “controlled by Benton Arkansas.”
  8. With the prices we are all paying for healthcare, apparently there should be a larger TV in the waiting area.
  9. My next job will be one where I can wear scrubs. Scrubs are awesome.
  10. I have dealt with so many doctors in my life, I get itchy when they don’t just get to the point.
  11. I have used the phrase, “How the cow ate the cabbage” THREE times today and it’s not even noon.
  12. I blame my friend Laura Leigh for number eleven.
  13. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, everyone understands what a come to Jesus is.
  14. There are three floor drains in this room. Whoever decided this should be awarded the Medal of Freedom.
  15. All floors should have drains.
  16. I can leave all my stuff in my chair to go to the restroom because there is no one in this room who could move quickly enough to swipe my stuff before I got back.
  17. People watching should be an Olympic Sport. Both summer and winter.
  18. Husbands who steer their wives through the door by putting their hands on the small of their wives’ backs are the best.
  19. If I ever write a mystery novel, my nom de plume will be Benton Arkansas.
  20. What were we thinking with the whole brown lipstick thing and why is it still a thing?


A Brief Update

20 Feb

You know how when a dog gets all in a skunk’s business you’re supposed to bathe him in tomato juice? It doesn’t work on humans.


Which reminds me of this time I was at the beach and our neighbor heard that meat tenderizer is good for jellyfish stings so she kept some in her bag. So I get stung by this whale of a jellyfish, come running out of the water, she comes flying towards me and starts liberally dousing me with…wait for it…garlic salt.

Come to think of it, what is it with me and food on my body in emergency situations?


20 Feb

tweet yallYes, I’ve been off social media for a while. Didn’t notice? Congratulations, YOU have a life.

Because I have some friends who are having weird horrible days today, let me just tell you that NOT ONLY did I burst into tears in the Auto Zone parking lot, I had to use Fix-A-Flat and CANNOT get the stench off me. I have showered AND rubbed my hands with alcohol. I have just washed my hands with vanilla extract. Now I am high and smell like a delightful baked treat.