Christmas with Little Sh*t (A Three Act Play)

OK…I lied. I was going to try to write this out as a play, but it is just ENTIRELY too much work. So, I’ll just set it up and tell the story.


The cast:


Little Sh*t – Little Sh*t (referred to as LS for the remainder of this entry) is my cousin’s son. He’s 23 years old and a complete a$$hat. He lives with my aunt because my cousin can’t handle him. He doesn’t lift a finger around the house, pays no rent, eats like a horse, can’t even make himself a sandwich or a bowl of cereal and rumor has it that he has his own personal assistant to wipe his a$$.



Ellen – LS’s mother; she’s 50 years old and is a full time teacher. To say that she is somewhat of an idiot is stretching the boundaries of the word “somewhat”.



Marilyn – LS’s grandmother; she’s 73 years old and barely able get around due to arthritis and rheumatism. Dotes on LS



Lenny – LS’s grandfather; he’s 78 years old, diabetic, and does whatever he is told to do



So here’s what happened.



A few days before Christmas, Ellen (my cousin) shows up on my uncle’s doorstep. Quoting my uncle: “She must have been hopped up on something because she was just a-jabbering so I just let her talk.” Translated, that means she was dishing up some good dirt!!



She said that she had LS had called her up and wanted HER to take HIM out to lunch.



Now, being that it was Christmas and all, one would think that a GOOD son would call his mom up and invite HER out to lunch as HIS treat just for the heck of it. But give yourself a good slap up side the head because this is LS that we are talking about here!!!



LS wanted his mom to take him out to lunch because he was (and I’m quoting here) “sick of eating what Grandma cooks.”



OK….I need to clarify some stuff here.



a) Grandma (Marilyn) actually cooks and she cooks good southern food. We’re talkin’ ‘bout making stuff from SCRATCH!!! No prepackaged stuff from a box or fast food crap. She actually cooks breakfast, lunch, AND dinner seven days a week.


b) LS doesn’t pay rent nor does he lift a finger around the house.


c) If LS doesn’t like what Marilyn fixes for dinner, then get his a$$ in the kitchen and make his own d@mn self a sammich!!


d) Obviously, I (and the rest of the family don’t think too much of LS)



So Ellen got in the car, picked LS up, and took him out to feed his sorry a$$. Then she found out what his ACTUAL motive was (in addition to a free meal). LS told Ellen what SHE needed to get Marilyn and Lenny for Christmas.



Are you ready for this?????



An elliptical; now for those of you that are unsure of what this is, it’s an exercise machine that is sort of like a combination of a treadmill and stairmaster. Just do a google search and you can see pictures of one.



Now, what makes this absolutely ridiculous is the fact that Marilyn is in absolutely NO shape to be using an elliptical because she’s barely able to walk across the room. Remember how Tim Conway played that old man that could only walk one inch for each step he took? Well, that’s Marilyn. As for Lenny, he couldn’t even begin to figure out how to turn the elliptical on.



So, obviously, the person actually wanting the elliptical was (give up?)….LS!!!!! (You get a cookie!)



Now…any RATIONAL person (such as myself) would have said “Have you got batsh*t for brains? Marilyn would break her neck on that thing and Lenny wouldn’t have the foggiest idea as to what to do with it. Here’s a better idea. Go take your paycheck and buy a gift card to Ingle’s with it and give it to them since they have to buy groceries every week to feed your sorry a$$. Here's an even BETTER idea! How 'bout we take your paycheck and buy Grandma a dishwasher since you never offer to wash them yourself or buy Grandpa a riding lawnmower since you're too lazy to take your sorry a$$ outside an mow their lawn even though you ARE living there rent free and all." That's just me.



But…this is Ellen, my cousin, that we are talking about and Ellen doesn’t have the sense God gave a dead billy goat. So, Ellen says…”Why that sounds like a SUPER idea!”



So Ellen goes on the internet and promptly nearly poops her pants when she finds out how much these things cost. But Ellen, using that college edumucation of hers, decides she can defray the cost if she can get her two brothers and her sister to go in with her. She wound up finding a used one online for about $500.



She calls her younger brother first. One thing about this particular brother is that he is extremely stingy. If you tell him that something is going to cost him about five dollars and it winds up costing $5.01, you are really going to be in for some grilling about how come it’s costing him MORE than five dollars.



His response to her? “I don’t even know what that is” and hung up on her. So younger brother is now on Ellen’s sh*t list.



I can imagine my uncle sitting politely listening to her prattle on and on and waiting for her to leave so he can pick up the phone and relay the latest LS chronicles to my dad. But wait….THERE’S MORE!!!



Ellen was all in a tizzy because Marilyn was back over at the house about to worry herself to death. Apparently, LS had invited his girlfriend (yeah…he has one….go figure!) over Christmas Eve and Marilyn was concerned that what she had to eat was not going to be “good enough” for her. And Ellen was all worked up because since they didn’t know that she was going to be there, they didn’t have any Christmas presents for her to open up and it just “wouldn’t be right” for everyone else to be opening up stuff and her not having ANYTHING so Ellen was going to have to go out to town and buy her some stuff to open.



More clarification, here…


a) If LS invited her over for Christmas Eve at the last minute, then I’ll be durned if I would worry about what I’m serving being “good enough” for her.


b) Since LS invited her over for Christmas Eve, then it would seem to be that if ANYONE needed to be getting her a Christmas present, it would be LS….not Ellen and not Marilyn!!!!



So, Ellen leaves my uncle’s house to go get last minute presents and Lord knows what else and my uncle gets on the phone to give my dad the breaking news.



I’m tired of typing, so tune in later on and I’ll have the Christmas Day hijinks!!!!

Do WHAT?????

Sometimes you really just want to give someone a good smack up side the head. In my case, today that someone would be Martha Stewart.

Miss Martha took some time away from her busy schedule of demonstrating how to turn autumn leaves that the neighborhood dog peed on into a festive Thanksgiving centerpiece for her table to tell us all that (her words, not mine!) that “Sarah Palin is dangerous.”

Oooh, Martha….I’m scared. What’s Sarah going to do? Design some moose print comforters and sell them at Macy’s? Oh wait….I’ll bet Sarah’s going to have sweet potato pie for dessert at Thanksgiving instead of (GASP!!!)….PUMPKIN pie. Or could it be something even MORE sinister….like she’s planning on using paper plates instead of pulling out her good china.

Martha…you really need to get a grip on yourself. If anyone is dangerous, you need to take a good look in the mirror. Do you realize that you are the mentor to thousands of Stepford wives? Your entire show, magazine, etc., is centered around perfection.

YOU can’t be happy with just putting plates, silverware and glasses on a table. Oh no,no, no,no,no…..YOU have to do something creative like making placemats out of brand new dishrags, lighting up candles, creating a centerpiece, and putting place cards on the table so everyone knows where to sit.

Before it’s all over with, you got so much sh*t on the table there’s no room for the food!

If I’m going to go to the trouble of making a trip to Walmart for brand new dishrags, I’ll be d@mned if I’m using them for placemats. And as for the candles, if the power goes out, I’ll scrounge up a candle or two. And what’s wrong with just yelling out “Jake you sit there, Jane you sit there, Paw Paw sits at the head of the table and I’ll sit next to little Clyde to keep him from feeding the dog some turkey; turkey gives ‘ole Blue the runs.”

Then, Martha (yes YOU Martha) had the audacity to call out Rachel Ray the other day. Apparently, Martha was being interviewed for an upcoming piece on Nightline. I think that she was probably upset that she had misplaced her broomstick, but after reading her quote, I’ll bet I know where the broomstick is. Here’s what Martha had to say about Rachel Ray:

In her first television interview since serving five months in prison in 2004 for lying to investigators about a well-timed stock trade, Stewart, 68, talks to ABC News’ Nightline about rebuilding her brand — and slams Ray, 41, one of her TV competitors.

“Well, to me, she professed that she could — cannot bake,” Stewart says of Ray in the interview, airing Thursday. “She — just did a new cookbook which is just a re-edit of a lot of her old recipes. She — and that’s not good enough for me.”

When it comes to writing a book, Stewart says she want to publish something that “is a unique and lasting thing. Something that will really fulfill a need in someone’s library.” Ray, she says, “is different.”

Stewart says Ray is “more of an entertainer … with her bubbly personality, than she is a teacher, like me. That’s not what she’s professing to be.”

Scout says Martha is “more of a b*tch….with her holier than thou attitude”.

Plus, I ain’t seen Rach in an orange jumpsuit picking up beer cans on the side of the road, either. I’m just sayin’.

So what if Rachel can’t bake? I can’t fry chicken worth a d@mn, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook. So what if she redid some of her recipes to sell another book? I redo recipes all the time…lightening it up some of I can, adding more (or less) spices, etc. And I didn’t know (apparently Rachel didn’t either), that Rachel needed your approval before publishing another cookbook.

I swear Martha, you need to take a chill pill…..or something.

Before you go any further, you’d better just keep your mouth shut about Paula Deen. That woman can take a frozen ham to the face and still walk away with a smile.

I have a feeling my Paula could beat you’re a$$ with one hand and fry up some catfish, hushpuppies, and homemade biscuits with the other and not even break a sweat.

If I had my choice of hanging around either of you, I’d choose Rachel and Paula over you any day. They have something you don’t.

It’s called a personality.

The Mableton Bus Riots of 1974

School kids today do not know how easy they have it.

In most school districts, bus routes are set up for children living one or more miles away from school. Not only that, but in most cases, the bus will pick you up and drop you off right at your door!

No matter that little Timmy just lives two doors down from little Johnny; Timmy will get picked up at his house and the nice bus driver will drive that 50 feet up the road and pick up little Johnny.

Little Johnny gets on the bus and the nice bus driver will begin the long 30 foot trek to pick up little Linda. But wait! The bus driver slams on his brakes. Little Johnny’s mother is running up the road waving little Johnny’s sweater. She hands it to the nice bus driver, they exchange pleasantries, then the journey to pick up Little Linda’s lazy butt begins.

Let’s step into the “way-back” machine and take a trip back in time to 1974 and visit with the Mableton 972 Patterson Heights Riders. 972 was our bus number and Betty T was our driver.

Back then, students had to live 2.5 miles from school in order to be on a bus route. (Little Timmy, Johnny, and Linda probably have never even WALKED 2.5 miles in their lives!)

Our neighborhood was not on the official bus route. Translated, that means we had to go somewhere OUTSIDE of our neighborhood to meet the bus. In our case, we had to walk through a wooded vacant lot, through someone else’s backyard, and through someone else’s side yard to get the corner of Center Street and Mimosa Circle. That was the route for the kids living on Grace Street; the kids living on Luther Drive, which was behind us had an even further walk.

Year after year, our parents complained to whomever set up the bus routes and year after year they were ignored. Until the fall of 1974 when we were informed that our neighborhood was now officially on the bus route.

So that morning, we all gathered outside to wait for the bus. And that brought forth the first argument….where the bus stop would be located. Everyone, of course thought the bus should stop right in front of their house even though we all lived within two to three houses of one another. After much deliberation, it was decided that we would split the difference and have the bus stop at the midway point of our houses.

We waited and talked and waited and talked…and finally we heard good ole’ 972 chugging over on Center Street. We heard it make its usual stops and we began to watch for it at the top of the hill in great anticipation.

And we listened as the bus drove further and further away.

The bus had skipped our neighborhood. So we quickly tracked down a parent who was still at home to see if they could take us to school.

We weren’t sure exactly what had happened, but we would find out that afternoon.

The final bell at Floyd Jr. High School rang at 4pm; we all ran down the hallways and out the front doors to locate bus 972. When we got on the bus, we asked Betty what had happened and why she didn’t pick us up earlier that morning.

Betty said no one had told her anything about the new route and until she had been told to do otherwise, we would continue to be picked up and dropped off at our old stop.

By this time, we were all a little aggravated with the entire situation, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.

When the bus pulled up at our old stop, we remained seated.

Betty looked at us and told us that we were at our stop and to get out of the bus.

We continued to sit. Someone in the back of the bus began singing “We Shall Overcome”. (ok….I just made that part up.)

Finally, Betty figured out that we weren’t moving, so she continued on up Center Street and turned the corner onto Landers Drive. Betty was going to our neighborhood!

That brought up the next big argument…..whose street was going to get picked up/dropped off first. Betty told us we better be glad she was doing this at all and we better get it settled right now.

Since Luther Drive had more kids and were acting like big babies about the whole thing (the whiney “we’ve had to walk further than y’all, there’s more of us, blah, blah, blah) we decided to let them have their way and be picked up/dropped off first.

The Mableton Bus Riots of 1974 ended peacefully.

I just hope Little Johnny, Little Timmy, and Little Linda appreciate our pioneering efforts.

General Observations.........

Nancy Grace is my new hero.

She's basically told Jon and Kate (of Jon and Kate Plus Eight/Kate Plus Eight) to shut the hell up, no one in America gives a d@mn about either one of them and to get their butts home and look after those eight kids.

Personally, I wish Nancy would call child protective services on them and have the kids removed from the home. I bet Jon and Kate would straight themselves out toot-sweet.

I found something interesting on an imdb message board tonight; it was a post titled "Who's as tough as Clint?" Here's a copy of the initial post:

I was just having a conversation with my friend about what a badass Tommy Lee Jones was, and it got me wondering. Actors like him, Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson.. do they even exist anymore? I'm talking actors that built a career and reputation around being mean as hell bastards that don't take not *beep* from no one. Think about the current crop of leading men. Is there a single one of them worthy of taking Clint's mantle, now that his acting days are behind him? My friend mentioned Samuel L Jackson, but he's badass in a very comical sort of way. He lapses into self parody so often that it's hard to take him seriously any longer.

Tell me who you think, out of this current active crop of actors (of any age), or any deceased actors who deserve comparison with Clint.

Pardon me while I puke.

Tommy Lee Jones is a badass? And Samuel L Jackson? Puh-leeez!

Then someone else had the audacity to mention Keanu Reeves. Keanu Reeves is about as big of a badass as Ned Flanders.

Now the funny thing is that someone later on in the thread developed a "BA Scale" (Badass Scale) where they rate the stars of certain movies based on their level of badassness.

For instance, the inventor of the aforemention BA scale compared Harrison Ford to Al Pacino.

Harrison Ford is a badass (not in MY opinion, but the poster's opinion) in the Indiana Jones movies, Star Wars series, Blade Runner, and Apocalypse Now.

On the other hand, Al Pacino is a badass in Donnie Brasco, Heat, The Godfather Series, Scarface, and Dog Day Afternoon. Therefore, (in the poster's opinion), Al Pacino is a bigger badass than Harrison Ford.

Ok....I'll give him props for that. But then, he has the audacity to post that Al Pacino is giving Clint Eastwood a run for his money in badassness.

Excuse me?
Clint is badass in:
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
Hang 'Em High
Fist Full of Dollars
For A Few Dollars More
The Outlaw Josie Wales
High Plains Drifter
Dirty Harry
The Enforcer
Magnum Force
Sudden Impact
The Dead Pool
The Gauntlet
Pale Rider
Gran Torino

I rest my case. Clint is King Badass.

Now Nancy Grace just might be the one to give Clint some badass competition.

Well...that was fun.

More later....I be tired so I be going to bed.

For anyone that cares, Amazon dropped their price on kindles today to $259.....$279 if you want international wireless.

I wrote a new song.....

Since I'm not a musician, this is sung to the tune of "Watching Scotty Grow".

Watching Walker Poop

There he sits and acts just like a butt
He's an ornery mutt
But that's my dog

"Err-eeer Grrwl Grrwl" means "eff you, 'Nette"
When I say we're going to the vet
But that's my dog

Well you can have your kitty and your hamster
You can have your nasty horny toad
I'll sit here with my puppy dog here
While he's barking at a biking group
Biding my time and watching Walker poop

Rippin' toys apart
and snarling at Nancy Grace
He's makes a purty face
That's my dog

His fuzzy mouse toy sounds just like a goat
Cause Aston ripped his throat
That's my dog

In four short years, we gained two manic pansies
What we did before that I don't know
Aston sits and begs and humps my leg
While I stand with my handy scoop
Yawning and waiting and
Watching Walker poop

Ass up on his shoulders and off to bed
Ole poopy head
That's my dog

Gotta have a drink of water and a place to p*ss
Aim for Aston and miss
That's my dog

What's that you say dear,
Come on and keep your feet warm
Save me a place I'll be there in a minute or so
Walker come here, get your ass in gear
Get out from under the back deck stoop
Me and Aston are watching Walker poop

Catching Up!

Well, since I haven't written anything in almost a month I thought I would let everyone know what I've been up to.

I've been over at the ajc blog message boards putting in my two cents worth.

The other day, there was a big brouhaha about who has the best pizza in Atlanta. What I want to know is how come every single time pizza is discussed, all these yahoos from NY, Chicago, etc. come out of the woodwork, rag on local pizzarias, and claim that absolutely no pizza comes close to THEIR pizza.

So me (as Raylene) spouted off that since I (as Raylene) was from Boston and Boston's pizza kicked both NY and Chicago pizza's a$$.

Of course, all of the Yankees kept arguing amongst themselves about where to get pizza that "comes close, but no cigar" to their particular 'hood.

So....I became "Larry." Larry decided to lob a grenade into this debate by offering the following comment:

Y’all all crazy!

Tony’s Pizza from Krogers is the best. Second freezer case on the middle shelf. Tony’s makes NY Pizza taste like dogfood.

Well, that was fun. So much fun that I decided to join in today's great debate.

Apparently, Paula Deen paid a little visit to the henfest known as "The View". Paula's got a new cookbook out and was doing a little book tour.

Well, apparently the Mutha hen (mispelling intentional!) aka Barbara Walters took it upon herself to chastise Paula Deen for making kids fat.

Now I don't know 'bout anybody else, but NOBODY messes with my girl Paula! Paula is the epitome of Southern, she can cook like nobody's business, and is the mama of two of the finest specimens of men residing in the state of Georgia.

And she don't do wussified cooking; she cooks like Grandma.

If the recipe calls for butter, she uses BUTTER....not margarine. If the recipe calls for cream, she uses CREAM....not skim milk. If the recipe calls for eggs, she puts the whole dern egg in....not just the egg white.

I don't know exactly what bee crawled up Barbara's butt today, but everybody (including me) ripped Barbara a new one for messin' with Paula.

For my part, I opted for a new persona....baba wawa.

Baba Wawa opined that perhaps Barbara's problem was that she had missed a few days worth of Activia yogurts.

And she offered up this play on an old joke...about a fictional conversation that took place shortly after Paula's visit:

Paula: "So, Barbara…where are ya’ll from?”

Baba: “I’m from a place where we don’t end our sentences with prepositions.”

Paula: “Okay, where are ya’ll from, bitch?”

Then I sprung on over to the paulding.com message boards to see what was going on over there.

My peeps did not disappoint.

Apparently there is a persistent rumor that the county is going to shut off water indefinitely due to the flood. (They're not.)

Someone else wants to know if there is any truth to the rumor that Paulding schools will remain closed until at least Monday. (Keep in mind it is now just Tuesday evening.)

Then this poll...(I swear, this is an actual poll on the board): If your job closes because of the weather should they pay you? I didn't respond, but some smarty did and said they should have shown up and clock in and stay there for 8 hours just to show them.

Then I switched the TV over to Fox News and the hilarity just continues!

Barney Frank has actually found a way to blame the ACORN scandal on George Bush! Barney Frank looks like Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace and sounds like Sylvester the Cat.

I'd also like to offer a heartfelt congratulations to ABC's George Stephanopoulos on his recent addition. Unbeknownst to everyone, George has been quietly cultivating a new set of b@lls and managed to prominently display them during his recent interview with Obama by getting into a little debate as to what is the definition of the word "tax." Congrats, George! Keep up the good work.

Well....that's about all I got for now. Gotta go to bed.

'Nite all!

PS....on behalf of my sister-in-law...Hey! Canada!! YOU SUCK!

My New Job!!!

I’ve decided that in the event I need another career, I’m going to work at a newspaper as an advice columnist. Sort of like a combination of Dear Abby and Dr. Laura (except I won’t be as b*tchy.) So in preparation, I've solicited a few letters.….let me know what you think!

_______________________________________________

Dear Scout;

I am an extremely wealthy widow with two grown children. My problem is with my daughter.

My daughter stars in a reality show along with her husband and their two children. In just about every episode of her TV show, she manages to make some sort of comment about me and imply that I am a bad mother.

It really hurts. It hurts so much that I wrote a letter to her, put it up on my website and then called all the tabloids so they would write about it and everyone would feel sorry for me.

I've never seen my grandchildren and I have no idea as to where they live. I've had my people contact her people to set up a meeting so we can get this settled once and for all.

I'm not sure what her problem is. Her daddy gave her a starring role on one of his TV show years ago. Lord knows she wouldn't have gotten it any other way. Her daddy bought and paid for her boob job and had her nose fixed.

By the time he died, her dad had about 500 kagillion dollars. When I wrote, I mean *HE* wrote his will, he wasn't going to leave her anything because she was acting so ugly, but I told him he needed to eave her at LEAST $800,000. I thought be doing so we could have maybe have some semblance of a relationship.

But it was all for naught. Now I sit here in my 15.000,000,000 square foot home, with a bowling alley, swimming pools, golf course, and private airport and I am all alone with only 1000 housekeepers, 3 crews of groundskeepers, a security team, my hairstylist, my publicity agent, my personal assistant, my makeup artist, my personal trainer and my chef to keep me company.

I really want to repair my relationship with my daughter....do you know of another media outlet I can use to talk to my daughter?

Signed,

Sandy Snelling (not my real name)

Dear Candy….I mean Sandy;

You really need to grow up and get a life. This business about posting a letter to Tori...I mean your daughter....on your website? What kind of crap was that? Why didn’t you just go on national TV and read the letter? Oh wait….you did!

What I’m trying to say is what the h*ll were you thinking? I really think you two need to work it out privately, but since you both seem to be a couple of publicity wh*res, maybe you should book an appearance on Dr. Phil.

But prepare yourself, because I think after 5 minutes he's going to knock the sh*t out of both of you.

Good Luck!

Scout

_______________________________________________

Dear Scout;

I am the star of a reality TV series and my mom’s a total beotch. I've really got a huge dilemma and you are the only one I can turn to.

I’m supposed to go to a movie premier next month. When it is my turn to walk the red carpet, would I look better with a smile or should I go with the pouty mouth thing?

Signed,

Lori Snelling (not my real name)

Dear "Lori":

Yeah, your mom is a total beotch.....you should hear what she says about you.

Anyway, I'd go with the smile, but don't show your teeth. Your head is kind of long and you might be mistaken for a horse.

If it makes you feel any better, Sarah Jessica Parker and Julia Roberts have the same problem, so you are in pretty good company.

Have fun!

Scout

_______________________________________

Dear Scout;

I am a business traveler and last month I was stuck on the flight from h*ll.

Our plane was stranded on the runway for 15 hours in Armpit, Nebraska. It was absolutely awful.

We ran out of peanuts, and I swear after having to use that plane’s toilet, I think some of these people work with you based on one of your previous posts. Did your company have some sort of convention there?

Anyway, what do you suggest I do to avoid this in the future?

Signed,

Captain Morgan

Dear Captain;

The solution to your problem is so surprisingly simple that I'm surprised it has not been used before.

There is a bill in Congress called the Passenger Bill of Rights, but everyone is too busy arguing about healthcare so it's going to be quite a while, I'm afraid before this bill goes anywhere.

Hopefully, you will not have to endure this situation every again....I kind of know what you've been through because believe me, I see that bathroom at work everyday and it's just scary.....and no, to my knowledge, my company did not have any events scheduled in Armpit, Nebraska.

Now, should this ever occur again, here's what you should do. You need to use it with caution! What you do is tell the pilot to radio the tower and tell them that all of the passengers and crew have taken the plane hostage, they are not allowing anyone to leave, and they are prepared to stay there all day if need be....then start singing "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round," just to add to the hell.

Believe me, when they hear the word "hostage" they are going to have a negotiating team out there PDQ and begging y'all to leave.

When they do, y'all allow the women and children to leave in exchange for a nice steak dinner for the remaining "hostages." Don't make the mistake of settling for pizza! At least get a nice meal out of it.

After everyone has finished dinner, then have the pilot radio the tower and tell them that the remaining passengers and crew will be allowed to leave. By the time everyone figures out what happened, everyone will be off the plane. But you have to have 100 percent participation from everyone on the plane in order to pull it off.

Happy Traveling!

Scout

_____________________________________________

Dear Scout;

Guess what? I’ve got my own reality series! My daughter is going to be so p*ssed when she finds out!

So, what mean and evil things should I say about her on my show?

Signed,

Sandy Snelling (not my real name)

Dear Sandy:

Why don't you say that her show sucks and leave it at that?

Oh, and then tell her that you and Shannon Daughtery have become best friends and she's like the daughter you never had.

Scout

_____________________________

Dear Scout;

Did I mention that my mom is a total beotch? Anyway, back to my movie premiere.

Who should I wear? Vera Wang or Stella McCartney?

Vera Wang is like primo in the fashion world and is a household name.

But Stella Freakin’ McCartney is the daughter of Sir Paul McCartney….I heard that he was in a band that my mom used to listen to….I think they were called the Fleas, or the Maggots, or something like that.

Plus, her dad's a "Sir" and that's like almost next to a King, right?

And, with her dad being in the music business and all, he must have a ton of money and he might even be willing to produce a new reality show for me that's even BETTER than my mom's.

So....Wang or McCartney?

Signed,

Lori Snelling (not my real name)

Dear "Lori",

First off, Sir Paul is NOT almost next to a king and the name of the band was The Beatles.

As for the dress, I'd have to actually see the dress before I could tell you who to pick. Even the best designers sometimes make these freakazoid dresses just to get everyone talking about it.

But based on your letter, it sounds like you just want to suck up to Stella so you could have an in with her dad so it doesn't matter what I say...you're going to pick Stella.

Have fun at the premiere!

Scout

___________________________________

Dear Scout:

I can't believe my daughter turned out the way that she did. I mean I spent a fortune hiring the best nannies to raise her and look how she turned out. She's just so ungrateful.

Anyway....I heard through the grapevine that my daughter is trying to get in touch with this fellow....I believe his name is Sir Paul McCartney.

A friend of mine told me that he is extremely wealthy, widowed, and being that he is a Sir...he's almost like a king or something.

I am also extremely wealthy, widowed, and I guess I can be considered to be Hollywood royalty because my late husband was nicknamed "The King of T and A TV".

So...is there any way that you can put me in touch with this guy, Sir Paul?

Signed,

Sandy Snelling (not my real name)

Dear Sandy:

I can certainly tell where your daughter got her smarts! As for Sir Paul, I know of him, but I have never met him personally.

While I can understand that you have some things in common, I think you might be in for a shocker.

You're right in that he is widowed, but he remarried a few years ago and that marriage ended in a rather nasty divorce.

If you are thinking of pursuing a relationship with Sir Paul, do not be surprised if he asks you to sign a prenup.

That skank Heather took him to the cleaners!

Good Luck!

Scout

______________________________________

Dear Scout:

I'm mad as h*ll and I'm not sure exactly what to do. Several years ago, I costarred in a movie with a rather handsome actor. I can't tell you his name, because we're both rather private people, but it rhymes with Mad Snit.

Anywho, he was married at the time and blah, blah, blah, the next thing you know he left his wife for me! In the meantime, we've adopted a whole litter of kids, we had one together, we're not going to get married until California recognizes Prop 8, and for every magazine cover that his ex-wife appears on, we appear on four more.

At this point, you're probably thinking that I have it all and what could my problem possibly be?

Well, I've got a stalker. There's this girl that is trying to act just like me.

She's a famous singer and I can't mention her name here but it rhymes (uh-oh...I think I just gave part of it away!) well...her FIRST NAME sounds like "Pea Ann".

Anyway, she made a movie with this guy and left her husband. This guy left his wife and now "Pea Ann" and this actor have become an item. People are starting to talk about it and she is on magazine covers that me and Brad....I mean me and my guy should be on!

Next thing you know, she'll be adopting babies from Vietnam, Korea (both North and South just to make me look bad!), Kenya, Serbia, and Loganville and getting tattoos all over herself.

So....what can I do to make her leave town?

Signed,

A J

Dear A J;

I think all you need to do is go up to "Pea Ann" next time you see her and say "Boo!" cause you are one scary skank.

She'll run straight back to Nashville as fast as those little stick legs can carry her.

I'll keep checking out the magazine covers to see how it turns out.

Good Luck!

Scout

Book Reviews......

I've got a reading list going on my Kindle so I thought I would review what I have read so far. Actually, it's not so much of a review, it's more like what the book was about so you can decide if you want to spend the money.

In The President's Secret Service by Robert Kessler:
JFK was a perv
LBJ was a pig
Nixon was weird
Ford was a cheapskate
Carter was an a-hole
Reagan was really down to earth and nice
Bush 41 was nice; Barbara was mother-hen to everyone and a Secret Service favorite
Clinton...well, living with Hillary explained a lot!
Bush 43 was a regular guy
Obama is ok (so far)
Secret Service is overworked, underpaid, understaffed, and it's not what you know it's who you know.

Mancation, or Pete and Burt's Almost Gay Adventure in Baltimore by Noel Davis
I've only read a sample of this, but from what I've read so far, it's great! It's about a couple of straight guys who go on a vacation together to see a ballgame. But since they are traveling together, everyone just assumes they are a gay couple.

On Grandma's Porch by Debra Leigh Smith, et al
A collection of short stories written by various people reminiscing about life with their Grandparents. Some are funny, some are sad, but overall it's a great book if you want to read something light.

My Back To School Edition!

Now that school is back in session, I thought about writing about some of my more memorable teachers from long ago.

But then, I decided to do something a little different and write about the unsung heroes from school. No...not the lunchroom ladies, not the bus drivers, and not the principals.

I'm talking about (drum roll, please!) substitute teachers!

I went through the public school system from 1966 - 1978 and things were a little different back then. I think substitute teachers in 2009 are actually expected to teach. But back then, they were little more than glorified baby sitters.

Usually, substitutes were some kid's mom that was subbing solely for the extra $10 or $15 per day (if that much) that subbing paid.

For the most part, if you had a sub, she had already been in touch with the teacher and you knew the bulk of the class assignments were going to be reading a chapter or two from a text book on a given subject (math, english, etc.) and answer a few questions at the end of the chapter.

But let's face it, reading all day makes Jack (and Jill) quite ill little boys and girls and they start looking for ways to amuse themselves and each other. And it's all how the substitutes handled that sort of thing that makes them a member of an elite little club. I call it:

"The Substitute Teacher Hall of Fame".

1. Mrs. Hatfield - Mrs. Hatfield began her teaching career shortly after Noah landed his ark on Mount Ararat and I think she had retired the same year that Truman was elected President. I'll say this...that woman was one hateful, old bitty. If I had a nickel for every time she banged that Bolo paddle down on the desk and hollered out "HUSH UP", I'd be rich. She was one sub you didn't mess with.

Apparently Donnie N. didn't get that memo. One day as we were returning from lunch, she told us to get a book out and start reading chapter whatever. Well, Donnie decided he'd had enough reading for the day and said we needed to practice our singing. He then proceeded to sing one of the songs from our music books.

Mrs. Hatfield either did not appreciate music, or just didn't appreciate Donnie's interpretation of "Oh, Susanna!". She immediately grabbed her Bolo paddle, slammed it down on the desk and hollered "HUSH UP!" Donnie just ignored her and continued singing.

Mrs. Hatfield slammed the paddle down again and hollered "HUSH UP!". At this point, everyone in the classroom could tell she meant business....everyone except Donnie. He just kept right on singing "Oh, Susanna!"

Well, Mrs. Hatfield decided she had enough. Here's where Mrs. Hatfield was "old school." Most teachers at that time would simply remove the kid from the classroom and open up a can of whoop a$$ on them out in the hall. Not Mrs. Hatfield!

She walked right over to Donnie's desk, yanked him out of it, threw him across her arm and proceeded to open up a can of whoop a$$ in the classroom in front of everyone. (Keep in mind this woman was older than dirt.) She put him down and walked back up to her desk.

We were all stunned! Subs usually just yelled at you to shut up and when they got tired of yelling, they selected some goody two shoes to run down to the principal's office and have HIM come down and make us behave. This was the first sub any of us had ever encountered that actually took matters into her own hands.

Donnie sat back down and immediately began squalling; partly out of pain, but mostly (I'm guessing) out of sheer humiliation and embarrassment. Mrs. Hatfield immediately picked up that Bolo paddle, slammed it down on her desk and hollered "HUSH UP!" She then pointed at Donnie and said "You shut that cryin' up before I give you something to REALLY cry about." Donnie immediately hushed up.

Mrs. Hatfield was one sub that you didn't want to mess with and that is why she made my Hall of Fame.

Mrs. Boone - Mrs. Boone was what we referred to as a marshmallow. This is, you could say anything, do anything, tell her anything and she just said ok.

This was a typical day with Mrs. Boone as the sub: The class straggles in one by one. The final bell rings and everyone begins to talk. Mrs. Boone tells everyone to shut up so she can tell us what our "real" teacher wanted us to do.

We continue to talk; Mrs. Boone continues to try to get us to shut up. This goes on for about 10 or 15 minutes. Finally, everyone has caught up with everyone else and the class has somewhat settled down.

Mrs. Boone announces what our class assignment is and asks if we have any questions. Someone raises their hand. She looks at him and says "What's your question?"

He asks "Are you related to Daniel Boone?" Class erupts in laughter even though she is asked this question each time she subs. She says no. Another hand is raised. She acknowledges the questioner. "Are you related to Pat Boone?" Class laughs again. She says no. Yet another hand is raised. She acknowledges the questioner. "Are you related to Ba?" Teacher asks "Ba who?" "Ba boone!" comes the reply along with gales of laughter. By this time, Mrs. Boone has had enough and tells us to get busy.

It was about this time that some one decides that it would be fun to play the "I lost my contact lens...no body move!" game. So someone shouts out that phrase and immediately everyone hits the deck to begin "helping" to find the lost contact lens.

The problem was that usually the person that shouted out the phrase not only did not wear contacts, but didn't even wear glasses...but Mrs. Boone didn't know that.

Someone would holler out "I found it!" Then someone would hit their arm which resulted in the phony contact lens being "lost" again. This usually went on for the remainder of the hour. We would move onto our next class and the next group of students would move in....and the whole thing would start all over again.

Mrs. Boone is in my Hall of Fame because for as much grief as she received, she kept coming back for more.

Mrs. Flannagan - Mrs. Flannagan was the only sub I ever encountered that actually attempted to teach. She was completely no nonsense.

If the teacher left a note for us to read a chapter and answer the questions at the end of the chapter, then you'd better go ahead and read that chapter. If you looked up or leaned back to talk to your neighbor, she'd look up and say "Oh, I guess you've finished. Read question number one and tell us what the answer is."

When you couldn't answer, she'd say "Well, then I suggest you get busy and finish the assignment because we're going to go over it in 10 minutes and I'm going to be taking up the papers to turn in." This was her way of giving us a veiled threat to show our regular teacher who behaved and who didn't.

Rather than just having us read for the entire length of the class, she'd set a time limit. When time was up, she would then have us close the books and she would ask us questions. If we missed any, she suggested that we take the book home that night and re-read the chapter.

If she "strongly suggested" that we take the book home, it meant one of two things. Our teacher was coming back the following day and giving us a pop quiz or Mrs. Flannagan was returning the following day and going over the material again, giving us a test and turning it in to the teacher.

I put Mrs. Flannagan in the Hall of Fame because she actually made the effort to teach -and- she actually had a knack for making the material interesting.

Mrs. Lee - Mrs. Lee was in a class by herself. Poor Mrs. Lee was all of four feet tall. Unfortunately, the light switch in most of the junior high classrooms were on the wall at about the eight foot mark. To turn the lights on and off, most of the female teachers had to stand on tip toe to reach them.

Poor Mrs. Lee couldn't reach the lights even if she stood on tip toe. The reason I know this was because when Mrs. Lee subbed, it was the duty of the first student that entered the classroom to turn out the lights. One by one, we would all file in to the dark classroom.

Mrs. Lee would ask someone to turn on the lights. They would "pretend" they couldn't reach it. It was an unwritten rule that anyone that turned on the lights would be branded a "suck up" and no one would have anything to do with you for a while. So, when Mrs. Lee realized that no one was going to turn on the lights, she would go ahead and give us our reading assignment and we would sit there in the dark.

She would look around the classroom and see that no one was reading. She'd tell us that we'd better get busy and finish the assignment and some smart a$$ would say "Well, I would read it if I could see it" to which she would reply "Well, if you want to read it, then turn on the light" to which the other person would reply "Well, I didn't say I wanted to read it, did I?" And so it went.

Eventually, Mrs. Lee either had a stroke of genius or some other teacher took pity on her, but somehow Mrs. Lee learned that every classroom had a wooden yardstick and she could use that yardstick to turn the lights on and off herself.

Mrs. Lee makes the Hall of Fame simply because I kind of feel guily about it even though I only turned the lights out on her once. I swear. Really. Yes, really.

Sorry, Mrs. Lee.

Little House - 2009

A while back I wrote a piece where I outlined my idea for an updated version of that tv show "The Waltons."

Well, this evening I was watching an episode of "Little House on the Prairie" and decided that maybe I could update that one, as well.

First off...the title. Houses are out....McMansions and condos are in. Prairies are out.....living in-town is in.

Now...money was somewhat scarce with the Ingalls family so obviously the McMansion is out. So, my new show would be called "Little Section 8 Condo South of Fulton Industrial Boulevard."

OK..now on with the characters. Now before we start, I don't want to hear any backlash of what I am about to do to these beloved characters. Michael Landon took a TON of liberties with these characters when he produced/directed/starred in/ and wrote this tv show.

I read every single LHOTP book when I was a kid and I don't ever recall Laura running off to the Little Mountain Range on the Prairie after her brother died and hang around with a guy that looked like Ernest Borgnine. Mary never got married and there was no Albert. And this family flitted around from Wisconsin to Iowa to the Dakota Territory to Kansas, as well as Minnesota! Michael Landon didn't write about THAT did he? I guess that was because it was easier to dig up old Bonanza scripts and rework them for Little House.

That said, let's start with Ma. Ma doesn't work. She gets a government subsidy and since Mary is blind, she gets a Social Security check. If Ma needs money, she picks up coke cans along the side of the road and takes them in for recycling.

As for Pa, in my version there's not one Pa, but four. (Yes, four!). Mary has her own Pa, Laura has her own Pa, Carrie has her own Pa, and Grace has her own Pa.

If you recall, in the actual tv show, Doc Baker didn't run around prescribing birth control pills. In my version, Doc Baker works down at the free clinic and prescribed birth control pills for Ma, but she sells them on the black market to make a few extra bucks. So now Ma has four kids with four different baby daddies.

Ma and Mary's Pa are constantly fighting over who gets to claim Mary as a dependant. Since she's blind, she gets to get counted twice so it's always a battle.

Laura's Pa is in jail for credit card fraud. Carrie's Pa runs up to cars with a rag and washes their windshield while stopped at traffic lights and Grace's Pa left town as soon as Ma showed him the home pregnancy test that she bought at The Little CVS South of Fulton Industrial Boulevard.

Mary is blind, but while at the school for the blind she was able to pick up a trade. Mary makes a great living braiding and weaving hair. She has everyone come to the condo and insists that they pay in cash so that Ma can continue to claim her as a dependant.

Laura lives with Almanzo in the condo. In my version, Almanzo's last name is not Wilder. It Gutierrez y Ramirez. He speaks very little English and has a fake green card.

Almanzo is not a farmer; in my version he is a day laborer that hangs around a QT near Six Flags picking up the occasional roofing or drywall job. At the end of the day, he turns over half of his wages to Ma. In exchange, Ma won't call immigration on him.

Laura is a teacher. She teaches popular massage "techniques" at a "spa" off of Roswell Road.

Carrie goes to alternative school. She had a run in with a couple of teachers and is considered to be a truant. Ma is constantly being called by the school regarding Carries behavior and has told Carrie if she doesn't straighten up she's sending her to Mr. Edward's Boot Camp For Wayward Teenagers.

Grace is a baby and has been assigned a case worker. Miss Beadle, Carrie's old teacher, lives next door and is concerned about the large amount of traffic going in and out of the Little Section 8 Condo South of Fulton Industrial Boulevard and it's her duty as a teacher to report it.

Ma's already told Miss Beadle she needs to mind her own d@mn business and if she keeps it up she's gonna get one of Ma's size 9 boots up her rear.

Mr. and Mrs. Oleson run the condo association and do their best to maintain the exterior of the section 8 condos so that all the surrounding properties are able to maintain their value.

Now...you're probably thinking that can't be right because in the TV show, Mr. and Mrs. Oleson ran the store.

Well, the store is run by Mi Su-Ling and Gu Ming...two Koreans immigrants. Mrs. Oleson can't stand them because the only thing they sell in the store is kimchi and sushi.

In the show and in the books, one of the more quaint parts was when the family sat around in the evenings listening to Pa playing the fiddle. Well, in my version, Carrie pawned her Pa's fiddle for a cell phone. The family sits around in the evenings in my version and listens to sounds of sirens and the occasional gunshot piercing the still of the night.

Now that I've outlined the characters, I guess I need a plot. Hmmmm.....How 'bout Mrs. Oleson decides to kick all the Section 8'ers out when their lease is up so she can raise the rent and turn it into a gated community? Almanzo and his gang find out about it and plan to spray her house with buckshot and it's up to Laura to get the guns and ammo!

Tune in later for that exciting episode!

Somebody's Gotta Say It

This topic is not for the faint of heart, so be forewarned. It concerns "The Ladies Room" at my office, which I am now officially renaming to "The HellHole."

If you want to know why, you'd just have to visit. I swear, if the only restroom left in the world was "The HellHole" at my office and the men's room of an Alabama truckstop, I think the truckstop would be cleaner.

After seeing the condition "The HellHole" is left in after these women use it, it makes you wonder if they do the same thing at home.

Without getting too graphic, let me just say this.

That little handle thingy on the back of the toilet? If you push it down, it flushes the toilet!! Try it sometime!!! (For the love of Mike, PLEASE!!!!!!)

The only saving grace in this sad tale of woe is that because "The HellHole" does not have an electrical plug, it does not fall to the Information Technology Department to handle.

Now....for the other thing. What's the first thing you were taught as part of the potty training process? WASH YOUR HANDS!!! Some people have forgotten that. That's just nasty.

So.....I decided to write a little song and dedicate to the guilty parties that leave their DNA all over "The HellHole." It's sung to the tune of that Terri Gibbs song, "Somebody's Knockin".

Somebody's poopin'
Should I go on in?
Inhaled a nosefull
My head starts to spin

I heard about it
But I never smelled
Poo straight out of hell

Well somebody's flushing
And wiping their butts
And then they don't wash
Are they friggin' nuts?

I've thought about it
And bet my last buck
No more office pot luck

She must have had Tex Mex last night
Ate two burritos, gastronomical fright
Oh No!!!!
She mentioned sushi
and my nose starts to burn
Oh when will I learn?

Somebody's poopin'
Should I wait or go?
Sounds like a big one
Back up 'fore she blows!

I'm getting sicker
And starting to feel
I might lose a meal...........

Things That Make You Go Hmmm........

I thought about something today.....drag queens. And it's all Brad Pitt's fault.

Here's what happened.

I was listening to the radio today and the new Brad Pitt movie was mentioned. It's called "Inglorious Basterds". Personally, I've never had any use for Brad Pitt but he really rose to the top of my sh*t list when he ditched Jennifer Aniston to run off with that hobag Angelina "Mrs. Potatohead Lips" Jolie. Sorry, she's another one I've never had any use for so I guess they deserve one another. But I digress.....back to drag queens.

Anyway, when they mentioned Brad Pitt I thought about gay guys. Now, I don't really know a lot of gays guys, but the few that I do know seems to idolize certain women. For whatever reason, gay guys seem to be big fans of Judy Garland, Liza Minelli, Cher, Carol Channing, Madonna, Bette Midler, or Barbra Streisand.

Likewise, when drag queens decide to dress as a celebrity, who do they usually pick? Judy Garland, Liza Minelli, Cher, Carol Channing, Madonna, Bette Midler, or Barbra Streisand.

So, I got to thinking....what is the opposite of a drag queen? Specifically, do lesbians dress up as male celebrities? And if so, what do you call them? Drag kings? Macho Honchos? What celebrities would lesbians dress up as? (That's where Brad Pitt comes in.)

I'm guessing these guys would probably make the list:

Brad Pitt
George Clooney
Tom Cruise
John Travolta
Tom Selleck

Older lesbians might want to toss in Tom Jones and Engelbert Humperdinck.

Now here's something that might be kind of comical....what if you had a drag queen dressed up like Faith Hill and a drag king dressed up like Tim McGraw? They could go on tour as Tim and Faith in drag.

Who would the fans gush over? Would the lesbians go berserk over drag Faith even though it would be a guy? Would the gay guys go all gushy over Tim McGraw even though it was a female dressed like Tim? Or visa versa?

And would drag king Tim start a cat fight if a male (or female) fan tried to feel up Faith? And would drag queen Faith pitch a hissy fit if a male (or female) fan tried to grope Tim? I mean, stuff like that does happen at a real Tim and Faith show.

It was just a couple years ago that Faith chastised some overzealous fan for trying to grab Tim's family jewels. As Faith said at the time, "You don't go grabbin' somebody's husband's balls, you understand me? That's just disrespectful."

Technically, though, if a fan tried to grab drag king Tim McGraw's balls, it would really be no harm no foul since Tim would actually be a female.....unless of course she's pulling a Chastity Bono and having some new equipment installed.

Which brings up a whole 'nuther subject. A couple of years ago, Chastity Bono came out and told the world she was a lesbian. The world was shocked, stunned, and yelled in unison "Well, DUH!!!"

Now she's getting a sex change. So, since after the surgery, she'll be a guy, does that mean she's straight?

Like I said....things that make you go hmmmmm.........

WTH???????

Last night, I was sitting in my living room, minding my own business, watching "Diary of A Mad Black Woman" (I'm sorry, but Madea just cracks me up!) when this commercial comes on:

Click here! (Make sure to watch the commercial to the very end!)

Now, I'm sure you're all thinking the same thing that I am. That is that if I had a music room in my house with a baby grand piano, the ONLY thing that would make it complete would be a set of four lithographs of Michael Jackson. After all, when I think of the great pianists in history, I think Beethoven, Chopin, Mozart, and of course Michael Jackson.

Now, if you think that just don't beat all, then click here!

If you know anyone that's getting engaged that if they want a ring unlike anyone else's, then buy one of those!

I actually saw the story on CNN the other day and they said that the company was going to give the first diamond to Michael Jackson's kids. I know they will be thrilled.

Actually, what they ought to do is just make one gihugeic diamond and sell it to Liz Taylor. Then she'd have that big ole honker she's had for ages and her Michael Jackson burnt hair diamond ring that she could wear as a matching set. She'd be the envy of Hollywood.

....and just when you think you've heard/read it all, click here!

Now, I have just one question. What in heck would anyone want with that thing? OK....I'm sure everyone probably said, "Well, fool, they're probably just going to turn around and sell it on ebay."

OK...then my next question. Who in the heck would want to BUY that thing?

Well, probably the same person that would be interested in buying this....click here!

There is some strange people in this world....strange, strange, strange.