tried to use the Macy's coupons that they mail out every week in their circulars? The damn thing has more exclusions on it than a bad prom date! I tried to do a little "holiday shopping" thinking I was going to get a discount, until I got to the register and realized there was a "flip" side to my coupon--it was NOT valid for house wares, men's wear, women's wear, shoes, under wear, kitchen utensils, baby clothes, children's clothes, Christmas decorations and a partridge in a pear tree. The only thing I can do with Macy's coupons is wipe my a$$! And then it's not even two-ply!   more »

So y'all know our television went out last Wednesday. We bought the $1,200 flat screen Panasonic from Circuit City less than five years ago.  Last week, we turned it on, and I thought I had started doing acid again. The color was distorted, the pictures were jumping around all over the place and the cartoon characters looked like they were having sex!  I knew Dora and Diego didn't get down like that, so I called the Cable Company to send someone out to take a look at the problem.  They did a little trouble shooting over the phone with Shawn and we soon learned that it wasn't the cable, it was the damned television!

How could that be possible? I mean, we just finished paying the mo-fo off a few months ago and NOW it just decides to start acting up on us?  And it's a Panasonic for goodness sake!  It ain't that old either.  The television I had in college was a Sharp. It had everything from cigarette burns on the top to Heineken top bottles that fell in through the holes in the back and got stuck--and it lasted for at least 14, 15 years. Never needed repair once.  Hell, Shawn's college television was an Admiral. Who ever heard of that brand?  And he gave that one away to his home boy when he got this big old damn 52 inch--and from what I can tell--his friend Reggie was watching the game this weekend while we were over here watching each other!

I missed the Thursday night basketball on TNT, Friday night basketball on TNT, Saturday morning cartoons and college football, Sunday football and Lord help us, I'm gonna be missing Monday night football too...

I don't even know what's going on in the world. Sara Palin could have slapped the hell out of Michelle Obama and I can't see the video cause we ain't got no damned TV. 

Cause the repair guys came out last week, charged us $60 for just showing up, and the bastard didn't even have all the parts they needed.  We told them over the phone what the problem was, what the make and model of the set was, and they come steppin' out here last Friday with the wrong parts.  Can't come back until Tuesday to fix it, and of course, that'll be another $60 house call, along with the $300 it's going to take to repair it.

I told Shawn we should pull an "Al Bundy Move" on Circuit City. I remember watching an old episode of Married With Children where Al and Peg's air conditioning went out, and they hung out at the grocery store all day in the frozen food section to keep cool.  Well, tonight for Monday Night Football, if you want some live entertainment, Shawn, Andrew and I will be in our lawn chairs at the Circuit City in Roseville where we bought the damn television. We're going to bring Andrew's play pin and put him some toys in there to keep him busy.  Shawn and I are going to put our lounge chairs in front of the biggest color television we can find and camp out to watch the game.  I'm going to fry a chicken and make a potato salad and we ain't leaving until the final buzzer.  I plan on wearing my pajamas and a house coat--Shawn said he's just gonna put on sweats. Andrew is potty-training so we'll bring the potty too and put it right in the middle of electronics so when my baby has to "go" he can "handle his business"!  That'll teach them to sell us a bogus television set!!!

I was reading Wall Street Journal the other day and saw that Circuit City is filing for bankruptcy. They're blaming a sluggish economy and say that folks don't want to spend money on big ticket items like flat screen televisions and home entertainment systems. That ain't it at all! The reason they're going out of business is their damned employees. Last few times I was at Circuit City buying anything, their damned customer service agents were higher than kites. Er're last one of 'em, including the managers were methed out. You know I used that to my advantage, got me about $500 worth of stuff for $100!    more »

I went to McDonald's this weekend with Andrew to pick up a quick bite to eat and was shocked that obviously the fast food chain no longer cares about serving a quality product. The nuggets were so hard, when Andrew bit into one, he held his mouth and said "Mommy, my teeth broke." The fries were so cold, they could have just put them in a bag straight from the freezer. And when I pulled up to the drive through, the cashier was leaning out the window plucking the dirty out of her fingernails onto the ground. Why don't they just take the golden arches and put them on top of the projects?   more »

so we get to Ohio and my father in law cooks my favorite meal: fried fish and potatoes.  And these ain't just any fish and chips meal--Mr. B. catches the fresh water fish himself and grows the potatoes in his garden.  He saves the extra small tender potatoes just for fish fries.  And he has his own special batch of seasoned corn meal that makes 'em taste extra special good!

We pulled up to the house in Warren and I could smell the fish when the garage door opened.  I don't even remember my feet touching the ground, I glided from the car to the hot fried fish.  I'm not sure how Andrew got in the house--cause once I smelled that fish--that baby was on his own. I'm guessing his social worker took the trip with us and hid in the trunk!

Man, so I'm sitting at the table, eating, fresh buttered bread, Mr. B's battered fish and chips and a glass of red Kool-Aide (not cherry, not watermelon, not strawberry... just RED).  I was getting it good when Mr. B offered me a batch of his "specialty hot sauce".  He grows his own peppers and uses his grandmother's recipe from Mississippi to create a tasty fire in your mouf.  Well, far be it from this Texas girl to turn down hot sauce.  I should have known something was "fishy" when he had to go down to the basement to get it--and nobody else would touch it.  I think I saw Shawn, out of the corner of my eye, calling the insurance agent and telling him he wanted his "accidental death and dismemberment" check cut right away.

I slathered that damned hot sauce on my fish and took a bite, babbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbyyyyyyyyyyyy, it felt like somebody had taken a blow torch to my tongue, then rubbed alcohol on it.  My mouth was on fire.  My father in law managed to do to me what my husband hasn't been able to do in eight years: SHUT ME THE HELL UP! I could literally NOT TALK!!!  But the fish was so good, I kept trying to eat it--but the hot sauce was so hot--it kept burning my mouf.  My face turned orange, my lips were on fire, my eyes were watering and I was sweating like the housekeeper's daughter at Strom Thurman's momma's house. 

I looked around for some relief and all I saw were some tomatoes riping on a counter nearby.  That was the closest thing to me, I bit it open and stuck my tongue in there hoping to cool the fire.  Of course, it ain't work.  By this time, er'rebody was laughing and Shawn was checking his account to see if my life insurance check had been deposited in his account yet.  "I thought you were a Texas girl," my father in law chuckled, "thought you could handle a little hot sauce."

"Hot I can handle," I choked out barely audible, "this stuff is from the devil."

I took a napkin and wrapped it completely around my tongue, as if I had just had surgery.  Then I took some ice and laid about five pieces underneath my tongue--they instantly melted and I had steam coming out of my nose.  I have never felt anything like that in my life.  I thought I was going to die.

Then Shawn leans in and whispers, "If you think it was rough going down, wait until it comes out.  You'll be $hitting fire."

At that point, my hemorrhoids packed up, bid me a fond farewell and walked back to Minnesota.  When I called out to 'em, only one yelled back and responded, "We don't do well with fire.  We'll see you when you get back home.  That's something Preparation H can't even handle!"

or my house is just making too many damned noises! Shawn is out of town in Atlanta and I'm hearing everything from people plotting to kidnap me to the man next door coughing! I can't sleep from all the crooks and cracks and creeks I keep hearing in my house. At one point, it sounded like three Ninjas were on my roof. I don't think Brinks Security will be enough... I'm gonna need two secret service agents, four thugs (recently paroled, of course) and a stun gun!!!   more »

"we just spent three hours shopping at Albertville Outlet mall. It's an outdoor shopping extravaganza that's about two miles long and inludes all our favorite stores like Nine West, Ralph Lauren and The Gap Kids. After spending all my husband's money, we headed back to the car to leave and I got tired! It was hot, I was hungry, and my thighs were rubbing together hard enough to start a fire. Shopping had worn me out!!! I told Shawn, "Baby, you know how they have the lactation rooms at Mother Hood Maternity and the baby changing rooms at Babies R Us? Well, they need a big girl buffet station in Lane Bryant's--some place fat chicks can stop, eat, and nap while they are out shopping with their family and friends!"   more »

of Sunji Ya restaurant on Grand Avenue in St. Paul. OK, y'all know I live in Minnesota so all I got is white friends.  My girlfriend Bridget took me to this place called Sunji Ya a few months back so I could try sushi.  I ain't never ate raw fish before. Hell, I like my fish dipped in cornmeal and hot grease with some cold slaw and potato salad. I ain't never had raw fish before in my life. I'm thinking "What a waste! Why would I eat raw fish when I got all this grease at home and this bucket of meal?  I'll take mine to go and finish frying it when I get home." I'm ready to turn the place into a You-Buy-We-Fry joint!  I even asked Bridget if I could bring my own hot plate skillet to the restaurant!

But I stayed true to the course, figured I'd try something new and different--broaden my horizons.  I mean, I already started paying my bills on time-that's new-so I figured I'd try something else.

Let me tell y'all what, I got my country ass in there, and tried that sushi and I loved it.  I was picking it up with my fingers, dipping it in the wrong sauce--asking for ketchup.  I was so out of order and so wrong!  Bridget had to be embarrassed. She kept her head down and never looked up.  She was probably thinking "Gosh, I hope nobody recognizes me up in here!"  But I could care less--that damn raw fish was so good!  I asked for tartar sauce but they ain't have none.  Thankfully, I had some hot-sauce in the car (I live in Minnesota, and not ONE restaurant in this damned state has hot sauce--they have Tabasco which is not the same thing--but no hot sauce--so I am always prepared).  So I ran out and grabbed that and came back--and baby I got down!  I must have eaten about $40 worth of sushi!

And there Ms. Bridget sat with her chop sticks and she actually knew how to use them, dabbing her face when she had a little spillage--and across the table--there was me--ketchup and hot sauce and raw fish--grabbing it with my fingers--using my fork if it unraveled.  It was a sight. It was like watching Tiger Woods and Snoop Dogg golf together.  One of 'em surely does NOT belong--and I should have taken my sushi to go--cause I did not belong there.  Folks were walking by, looking, pointing.  I could care less, cause with a little hot sauce and ketchup, the raw stuff tastes better than the hot fried "Good Friday" cold slaw and potato fish any day of the week. 

I'm taking a brick with me to throw through the window of a store called "bebe". 

So we're at Rosedale Mall in Roseville, Minnesota Saturday afternoon, looking for a nice gown to wear to the Emmy Awards in a few weeks.  We're nominated for "Best Blog" so I'm thinking, I should be able to find something sexy enough in case I win--so that I can walk up and accept my award in style!

I go up and down the mall, looking for something in my size at Express, but of course, they tap out at a size 10, and I'm hittin' a 12 for sure now.  Everything is too tight or is "low rise"--hell, everything on my body is already hanging "low", I don't need any help accentuating my "low" points!

Macy's gowns all look like something for "old ladies" or high school girls going to the prom! And a 37 year old woman ain't got no business in either hot pink or electric blue! 

So I see this store called "bebe" and it looks like they've got some fancy dresses in the window store front. I got toward the store in my cotton warm ups that don't match and my baby in a stroller eating a sucker--I walk in and everybody in there is a size 2.  Right away, I know I'm in the wrong place--but I keep walking my fat a$$ toward the entrance cause by now, they know I'm heading in that direction.

The store clerks look at me like "What are you doing in here with your fat ass?", but they smile politely and point me in the direction of Lane Bryant.  Problem is, I'm too fat for "bebe", but not fat enough for Lane Bryant!

So I'm walking around the store in my stroller and I notice something: every girl in there is dressed up like she's going to the club. I'm looking for the disco ball and the DJ.  I'm talking from head to toe--make up--high heeled shoes, EVERYTHING!!!  Then the aisles aren't big enough to navigate my stroller, so I'm knocking over entire racks of clothing. 

I'm so undone at this point but I keep looking cause they got really nice clothes, the dresses are adorable, except the biggest size they have is a six!  I even heard one girl complain because she was an 8 and couldn't find anything to fit. 

I see a dress or two that I could possibly squeeze into, if I had the right girdle and a gastric bypass surgery prior to the Emmy Awards ceremony--so I ask the clerk "Do you have this in a 10 or a 12?"

The entire damned store, including Andrew busted out laughing!  I wanted to bloody her lip and cut a smile in her neck.

I just left with my head between my fat a$$!  I'll be wearing the same dress I wore last year...

They want the tax payers to help the financial industry get "on track" so that the economy can get better. To hell with the damn banking industry! I just checked my account and I'm sitting here with four bounced checks today--let 'em use all the NSF fees they've charged poor struggling Americans all these years to help get themselves out of trouble. I'll quit working, get an assumed name and start cutting grass with illegal immigrants before I let my tax dollars go to help Wall Street!!!!   more »

I mean, technically I did NOT cheat on my husband, but I feel like I did. So, (I can't believe I'm telling y'all this) last night, I had the weirdest dream. I dreamed I was at a television news conference for journalists and I was at my hotel room taking a break from workshops and such.  Well, I'm laying there, flipping channels on the television, and someone rings my doorbell (yeah, the hotel room in the dream had a door bell, don't ask questions, just roll with me).  I open the door, and it's my college boyfriend Byron.  Now Byron is a dead ringer for former NBA Phoenix Suns basketball player Kevin Johnson.  He's short, light skinned and got big lips. But hey, I was in to short, light skinned big lipped guys in college.  Byron and I had the same major in college: journalism--so after long nights of studying--we wound up getting buck naked and drunk. Which is why it took my black ass 10 years to graduate from college.

Anyway, so back to my dream!  So I answer the doorbell at my hotel and Byron walks in. He's bucked naked. I mean not a stitch of clothing on him!!!  He sits down on my bed and starts talking like we're back in college or something.  I'm like "Oh my goodness, you're gonna get me put out of my own house.  Get your naked a$$ out of here."  But he keeps talking and I engage him in conversation and before long, we're both sitting there in the bed naked talking.  I mean neither one of us has on a stitch of clothing.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone walk by my hotel room door (the hotel room door is glass in the dream). I could swear it's Shawn, but in my mind, in my dream, I'm figuring he's at home, so it couldn't possibly be him.  So Byron and I get closer and keep talking and before long, we're arm-in-arm.  And before he could plant a kiss on my lips, in walks Shawn.

I swear to you, I was so damned scared, I woke up out of my sleep and yelled, "I ain't do nothing!" I woke up Shawn, Andrew and the neighbors!  Shawn turned over and was like "What is wrong with you? What are you talking about?" When I looked around and didn't see Byron, realized I was at home, in my bed with my night gown on, I laid back down. But my heart was racing and I couldn't go back to sleep. I tell you guys right now, I was so damned scared I could have wet the bed.

Ain't that something? I could steal Andrew's Christmas promotional photo out of Target Department Store and not break a sweat, but the thought of a dream about me cheating over Shawn gives me a migraine head ache.  I been feeling guilty all day; like I should confess....

and it's a 78 year old woman named Mrs. Willie! She won't stop calling, leaving messages or sending notes to the house. I decided I'd write notes each week to the sick and shut in members at our church, to let them know I'm praying for them. Most of the senior citizens in nursing homes were just happy to get a letter from someone and new photos of my precious Andrew. Well, Mrs. Willie actually took me up on my "offer" to help out if I could; and she called me to come "clean her house". She also wants me to help her lease out her rental property, cook a few meals for her every week, and I'm now the driver for her Friday night Bingo group...   more »

ain't what it used to be at 25! Shawn and I got a little "tipsy" last night and celebrated Obama's victory as the official nominee of the Democratic Party. We must have been too excited, cause after three minutes of pumping and sweating, Shawn had a broken hip and I have an ice pack on my back...   more »

I hate flying.  I mean I hate it with a passion.  Folks all up in your personal space, breathing on your neck, snoring in your ear--and that's before you take off the ground. 

I was traveling to Arkansas earlier this week on American Airlines and Lawd have mercy, I'm gonna need them to do something about those airport restrooms.  They are too damn small!  I closed the door and my thigh was rubbing up against the wall.  If I gain two more pounds, I ain't gonna be able to fit through the door, I had to go through it sideways and one of my butt cheeks was still out in the aisle!  Then you get in there and you can't move, you'd better hope you hit the hole with precision, otherwise you're up $hit creek (literally)! 

Then you get to your seat and you're next to some woman who is so happy to have a new "friend" that she begins telling you her life story!  From the time she was born, to the time she went through college hooked on meth, her recovery and how she is now a successful new age healer with a husband and two sons.  Just when she's about to pull out the pictures of Braxton and Brandon, the track star and tennis star, respectfully, you realize her breath smells like boiled bologna and sauteed onions--and you ain't been up in the sky 15 minutes--you got 3 more hours of this talkin' a$$ Chatty Cathy!  You turn her around to see if you can turn her "off" or take out her batteries, but she's on solar power!  And you're sitting so close together, cause the damned seats are so small, you feel like you've got a "domestic partner".

All I wanted to do was take a nap. But no, between my new best friend and domestic partner "Chatty Cathy" and the two long lost friends separated at birth seated behind me, there was NO way I was going to get any shut eye.  Is it just me, or is there always two people who sit next to each other on the plan who spark up a really loud conversation--and somehow--during the course of their discussion--they find out they Siamese twins separated at birth?  I kid you not, these two guys, who did NOT know each other, talked for the entire three hours and found out they both liked the same kind of music, the same type of television shows, they were in the same line of business and their kids were exactly the same age.  They got off the plane holding hands and stroking each others hair before it was all said and done! 

And as if you ain't pay enough for the dog on ticket, they don't feed you. You either gotta sit on the plane and starve to death, or buy a $6 bag of cookies or a $10 sam'mich.  Next time I fly, I'm gonna bring a picnic basket, a pound of bologna and a loaf of Wonder Bread!  I'm gonna make me some money selling old school project bologna sam'miches for $3 a piece. If I'm on a large flight, and everybody is hungry, I might just recoup my losses for that high a$$ plane ticket...