Christmas with Little Sh*t (Continued....)

When we last left LS, he....well, just scan down and read the previous post to catch up.

Well, I'm assuming that Marilyn's Christmas Eve menu met with LS's girlfriends approval because I scanned the police reports in this week's edition of the Elberton Star and nothing was mentioned in there; all of the people in the obituaries were in their 80's and 90's so the menu mustn't have killed her.

Unless, of course, LS either has some sort of weird grandma fetish or he found himself a sugarmama I'm going to assume that none of the women in the obituaries are his girlfriend.

So, the next day my uncle goes over to Casa de Little Sh*t for Christmas dinner. (Even though the house technically belongs to his grandparents, LS for all intensive purposes has set up squatter's rights by parking his truck, his jeep, his boat, his other boat, his two jet skis and a host of other junk over there.)

Oh yeah....he bought ALL of that crap. Here's the kicker: his mom had to stop by LS's bank on the way to her parents house to deposit money into his checking account so he wouldn't be overdrawn.

I have no idea what happened to that branch of the family tree, but I swear ain't NONE of them got any sense.


The elliptical had already been given to LS's grandparents and LS was off sulking in a corner. The elliptical was in another part of the house.

So, my uncle asked the question we all were wondering? What did they think about the elliptical?

Lenny said that you had to push so many buttons (timer, program, calorie burner, etc) to get the dang thing started that just thinking about it made him tired.

The other issue was that they couldn't figure out how to program the calorie burner. Apparently there was a way that you could plug in certain types of foods and the burner would tell you how long you had to use the elliptical to burn it off.

Since they bought the machine used, it did not have the owner's manual with it and so apparently LS had spent the entire morning trying to program the burner with no success. (Hey....LS...you can probably find a manual if you remember these four words: Google is your friend.)

My uncle was about to offer his advice, when LS said he didn't want to hear it because he was already sick of that piece of crap. (Hey....LS....that piece of crap was YOUR idea!)

At about that time, my cousin Ellen enters the room completely exasperated.

"LS.....go in there and make Kevin (her brother) get off the elliptical." (Just for the record, she does not call her own son Little Sh*t but I didn't want to put his real name out there.)

LS just sat there and stared at the wall.

Ellen hollers at the back part of the house "Kevin....don't tear it up the very first day. LS....go in there and make Kevin get off the elliptical."

Now....picture this scenario:

Say out loud "Kevin...don't tear it up the very first day. LS....go in there and make Kevin get off the elliptical" in the most whiniest, nasaliest voice you can and repeat that sentence about ten times. It was then that my uncle realized what hell might be like.

Apparently, for whatever reason, Kevin had gotten on the elliptical and was using it incorrectly. He was facing BACKWARDS and attempting to use it.

He eventually got off of it...whether it was to shut my cousin up or he just got tired but he did get off the machine.

Then my uncle was treated to this sentence from Ellen for the next ten minutes:

"Kevin....you're not mad at me for fussing at you, are you?"

Kevin just ignored her.

So, here's a quick recap to wrap it all up. The elliptical wasn't that big of a hit. LS was p*ssed off for unknown reasons. My guess is that he was expecting to get a NEW elliptical and wound up with a used on that wasn't as nifty as the one he had envisioned.

My uncle said Christmas dinner was nice...but it would have been more enjoyable if my cousins and LS had spent it somewhere else.

Ellen got somewhat ticked when she found out that my uncle, LS's grandparents, and Kevin had all received Christmas cards from my parents and she received nothing. (Ellen...here's a clue. In order to send you anything, it would help if we knew your address. Google isn't your friend if you have a fairly common last name and tend to move around a lot.)

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!