It's Halloween and I've come across plenty of little goblins first thing this morning while taking Squirt to Pre-school for her Fall Festival Party today. She has been wanting to be "Hello Kitty" for weeks now and with a little imagination I think we pulled it off. I'll share some photos of her Halloween after her party this weekend.
All of the kids were adorable but none were frightening. When it comes to scary. When it comes to being frightfully mentally twisted. When it comes down to downright wrong and sick - it is the Adults this year that don't deserve any candy.
Perhaps we should TP this Holy Sh*t of an atrocity?
It's your birthday. It's your birthday. It's your birthday. Now this guy's costume actually raptured and awoke dead people, 6ft in the ground to head off running towards the hills.
Blow Me? Yeah, buddy we know what you're all about with your pillowcase full of candy. Pervert!
Now this costume is downright dangerous to wear here in Savannah, GA. For we actually have cockroaches this size scurrying about called Palmetto bugs. Someone get me a size 13 shoe, quick!
Ahhhh, now here's my man. Well sort of, except Gon doesn't have to saddle up anything to show me he is hung like a horse. In comparison this trick or treater looks more like "My Little Pony."
Overall, if you're going out dressed up for Halloween this year - be very careful on how you may scare folks. Especially the little kiddies. If you don't - sh*t will hit the fan.
And to my Pumpkin Patch of Friends who choose not to celebrate Halloween:
Being a Christian is like being a pumpkin. God lifts you up, takes you in, and washes all the dirt off of you. He opens you up, touches you deep inside and scoops out all the yucky stuff-- including the seeds of doubt, hate, greed, etc.
Then He carves you a new smiling face and puts His light inside you to shine for all the world to see.
Five smells I love ~ 1) The smell of warm chocolate pudding. 2) The smell of a fresh Christmas Tree. 3)The smell of the fresh salty air at the ocean's shore. 4) The smell of a campfire. 5) The smell of a magic marker.
Five sights I love ~ 1) My daughter's smile. 2) Mesmerizing fiber optics. 3) Kittens playing. 4) Savannah's trees heavy with Spanish moss. 5) Mountain top views of other mountains.
Five tastes that I love ~ 1) The taste of my husband's lips. 2) Real Dutch chocolate. 3) Pumpkin pie. 4) Hot dogs at a ball park. 5) Water right from the garden hose.
Five sounds I love ~ 1) Dog ears flapping as they awake and chase off their sleepies. 2) My husband's deep voice. 3) My daughter singing in the morning. 4) Ocean waves crashing. 5) Wind chimes.
Five things I love to touch ~ 1) Bunny rabbits. 2 ) Silk bed linens. 3) My husband's hairy chest. 4) A hot, fabric softened and fresh bath towel straight from the dryer. 5) Warm beach sand on my toes.
All my life I knew he was out there. My Prince Charming. Mr. Right. My Soul Mate.
It was those little matters that I didn't know that drove impatient me, crazy - for almost 32 years.
Where was he? What was his name? When would I finally meet up with him?
Most humbling was after many years, I finally found Mr. Perfect. The nice bod, hip car, awesome job, smart and yet sensitive - the acme of perfection and the type of guy you bring home to meet your parents .... but he dissed me.
Yup, you've heard right - dissed me. Gave me the ole', "You're a wonderful friend" routine and sing song. I was fun, energetic, smart and daring but according to Mr. Perfect - not the kind of girl you bring home to meet his parents.
No, I was divorced and not a virgin. I wore white shoes after Labor Day and didn't give a hoot what anyone had to say about it. I put beans in my chili, which was too hot and spicy. Kept frosty mugs ready in my freezer in the event of a cold beer. Had the audacity to grab a guy by the ears and fart on his head.
Nope, I may have met Mr. Perfect - but I was sure not anything close to Ms. Right.
More like Ms. So Wrong and Totally Twisted.
I awakened to the reality that I've been searching for the wrong type of guy all of these years. There is someone out there for everyone but in order to match - I had to find Mr. So Wrong and Totally Twisted.
Believe me, there were a LOT of strong contenders out there but I found Mr. So Wrong and Totally Twisted disguised as a serious, smart and hardworking IT guy up in New Hampshire. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined my soul mate would be such a nerd.
Funny thing about those computer geek types, they're closeted freaks of the worse imaginable kind. They like their chili hot and to cool it down with a frosty mug of beer. They don't mind if you grab 'em by the ears while wearing a pair of white high heels after Labor Day. They aren't afraid of their parents when they bring home a buxom blond for they live for the moment to have their Dad pat them on the back and say, "Way to go, son!"
Six years ago today I nailed such a guy. Mr. So Wrong and Totally Twisted and Mr. Right for me. I've been nailing him ever since and loving every moment of it.
Happy Anniversary Jon and don't worry about flowers or taking me out to dinner tonight. How about we make a hot and spicy pot of chili with me wearing nothing but those white high heels?
I learned some time ago the art of blogging and search engines give us consumers a bit of power in the free market. Whether you blog about a wonderful restaurant review or a delightful new friendly store in your neighborhood. If you blog about it, they will notice and so will others.
Every once in awhile, you may come across a bunch of fraudulent, rude pricks. It is our duty to warn others about such nonsense and put out a buyer beware, a major complaint and do a massive bitch out over a company that seeks to rip people off.
So please forgive me at this moment while I go ahead and do just that. Excuse my language as I will most certainly admit - I am very emotional over this matter right now. This isn't like me - for those who know me I am optimistic, fun, forgiving and will more than likely cry over a matter than throw a brick through a window. Except this time.
If you ever call and make hotel reservations or vacation planning to Florida you may receive a telemarketing call from this place called"eTour & Travel". They do this sort of thing sometimes when you make reservations and put yourself in some sort of database that you are a traveler. However, if you ever get a call, an email or a snail mail from "eTour & Travel" - trust me, report them as Spam - toss out the entire envelope mailed to you or demand that they remove you from their calling list.
They are nothing but frauds and I've been burnt by them terribly. Our bank account drained by unauthorized withdrawals and they are evil, dishonest scammers. If "eTour & Travel" or any other marketer calls - it would be wise to first Google their company name and take a look see if there are any complaints or posts such as this out there before doing business with them.
Live and learn, I suppose.
Thankfully, together with my banking institution I received restitution yesterday afternoon. It's not over by a long shot, for they are now facing criminal charges filed with the Attorney General of Florida. It seemed I'm not the only bank customer who was sucked into this ordeal.
This blog post is in hopes nobody else gets in "eTour & Travel's" greedy, dishonest and slimy hands.
It's time to re-introduce my joyful, birthday buddy and pal Patrick Moser and his new 2007 additions to the Grumpkin family fold.
Anyone can carve a pumpkin but a Grumpkin you see, is naturally already inside each pumpkin. For as a pumpkin grows larger and larger they each naturally form internal defects in their dill rings and ribs. The artist Patrick first measures the depth of the pumpkin through 20-30 points noting the position of these defects. Then it's time to release the Grumpkin in all it's natural beauty.
"I tend to have a general visions when I meet them in the field or when I receive photos from growers far away. Today the voice of experience tells me that my vision is a mere reference. Until I have been inside and plotted the personality of the Grumpkin. This is why I cant take requests, though have been asked endless times. The Grumpkin lives inside and it is the exact way it grew that determines who the Grumpkin should be." - Patrick Moser
One of the smaller of this year's creations is Horace Burly at a whopping 478lbs. Like all Grumpkins, Horace had some very interesting beginnings.
The next in size is Rubin Grogsworth at 907.5lbs. Rubin was released from the pumpkin before a very captivated reporter; Susan Warren of the Wall Street Journal in NYC.
Now on to the big 'uns of the season. Meet Mr. Newton Grossbeek weighing in at a giant 1238.5lbs.
Lastly, as Patrick so eloquently puts it; "There comes time in ones career that a challenge of epic proportions is thrust upon you." Big Al Pasquale weighed in at 1294lbs and gave the artist quite a time before he was greeted by a crowd of thousands.
So let's all give a big hand to Patrick this Halloween season. He sure had his work cut out for him this year. Of course, if anyone would like to book Patrick for a Halloween/Octoberfest event - send him a message and tell him Margie sent you.
When you live in a Trailer Park it is wise to fit in. Ride the tide or go with the flow, so to say. There is no need to stick out nor stick your nose up pretending you're too good to live there. This means no driving a Lexus or spending bookoo amounts of money on lawn and garden decorations.
Especially during Halloween when it is completely appropriate to Toilet Paper your own place to get into the spirit of the holiday. Simply string your Charmin up with last year's Christmas Lights that are still up.
So far nobody in the Trailer Park has a clue about my incontinent Whoo Hoo Ghosts. If and when they do, at least they'll have themselves a good old fashioned belly laugh.
Martha Stewart, eat your heart out - it's time for me to get crafty again. Thanks to Tampax, Elmer's Glue and a pack of googly eyes Halloween is about to get even more spectacular around here.
If I run out of treats, produce and canned goods again come this October 31st - I can simply throw one of these in the little goblin's treat bags.
Squirt can bring a few dozen of each to her Pre-School Halloween party next week. Although, I highly suspect a phone call from the Principal's office.
For directions on how to make these Spooky and other delightful decorations visit Tampon Crafts for any time of the month.
(A big shout out to Judy for alerting me of this marvelous notion.)
It happens often, you're home remodeling plans hit a snag and your project is halted. Your wife is upset because Thanksgiving is right around the corner and she has invited her entire family over for the occasion.
It happens, perhaps your Home Depot Credit Card has been maxed. Often is the case of failed novice plumbing procedures and the anxious awaiting of a professional to come out to the house.
However, when your wife calls everyone together for a family group photo op - it's not wise to get Half Nekkid.
Although it is pretty cool to watch the Bears score a touchdown on the living room TV while sitting on the best throne in the house.
For those of my readers from the Savannah area. A new store has opened in Sandfly off of Ferguson Avenue where the old furniture store is currently being divided up into little store front shops. Sandfly Variety Store. Go there. Seriously, 'ya gotta go, it has everything.
From those hard to find items, craft supplies, baby items, home decorating, cards, gifts, housewares, cosmetics and seasonal things not found anywhere else. Classier and with a much more personal touch of friendliness than a Family Dollar yet just as inexpensive with better made products and service. Great service might I add. I can't even remember the last time I went into a store and was treated like a queen.
With all of my business and travels concentrated down on this end of town, this is exactly what it needed. No more scavenger hunting through a big, cold Supercenter for affordable gifts, gift wraps or kitchen tea towels. No more battling Mall parking lots to go to a Dollar Store for less quality stuff.
It's as if someone just slapped down the perfect Lillion Vernon Catalog store in my path. It's refreshing, it's needed and I'm sooooooo exited - I had to share.
Go there, seriously. Sandfly Variety Store. You'll fall in love with it. I promise.
Heavens to Betsy! Our local newspaper's Vox Populi section is asking for some old sayings that mean a lot to us. Many of my favorite sayings have been passed down from my grandparents and parents - but there are also many that have sprouted from my own generation.
Sure one can catch more bees with honey than vinegar but you can get more bang for your buck by taking the flies on shit approach. You could stand out like a turd in a punchbowl or perhaps, be too chicken shit to stand out. Just remember, although there is a white spot on chicken shit - that white spot is chicken shit also.
If you tell me that you can catch two birds with one stone, you may be full of bologna. After all do you really know which side of the bread you've buttered?
My Grandmother used to say a good man was hard to find. Yet, in my generation it was good to find a hard man. A little bird once told me a man is known by the company he keeps, for the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That it was better to find a man of few words than a man who is his own lawyer, having a fool for a client. Especially if he's uglier than sin.
Adding insult to injury, after all is said and done, usually more is said than actually done. All is well that ends well yet all that glitters is not gold. You'd fare much better if you get your head out of the clouds and get back to the good old days. You surely don't want to be caught with your pants down.
I've been insulted plenty of times being told I was as clumsy as a bull in a china cabinet. I couldn't hit the broad side of the barn. I had a bone in my leg, which always caught my goat for often I didn't have a leg to stand on. I've received the short end of the stick and I've given the Devil his dues. I've grown like a weed and oddly enough, at times have gone to pot.
Yet there is light at the end of the tunnel, not all sayings are so offensive. Make no bones about it for we all live and learn. Mighty oaks from little acorns grow. Many of you are as nice as pie and I love hanging around with friends who paint the town red. A few of my bloggy buds offer pearls of wisdom, one is prettier than a peach, another is queer as a three dollar bill but not that there is anything wrong with that.
A penny for your thoughts. What are some of your favorite sayings?
Last month, National University of Lesotho Scientists released the results of a recent analysis that revealed the presence of Female Hormones in beer.
Men should take a concerned look at their beer consumption. The theory is that beer contains Female Hormones (hops contain phytoestrogens) and that by drinking enough beer, men turn into women.
To test the theory, 100 men drank 8 pints of beer each within a 1 hour period. It was then observed that 100% of the test subjects:
1) Argued over nothing. 2) Refused to apologize when obviously wrong. 3) Gained weight. 4) Talked excessively without making sense. 5) Became overly emotional. 6) Couldn't drive. 7) Failed to think rationally 8) Had to sit down while urinating.
As wife, mother to 1 human child, 2 Basset Hounds, 1 cat and a caged Guinea Pig who squeals clear from the other end of the house whenever I open the fridge - it is clear to me who they believe is the Alpha Female around here.
I tripped over the dog last week and in frustration shouted something to the tune of, "Why are you always under my feet? Are you waiting for kibbles to fall from my a$$ or what?"
His doggy answer was a clear resounding, "Yes."
So, what is up with all of this talk about it being the men who bring home the bacon?
I've watched the National Geographic channel as well as some Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom episodes and 9 times out of 10 it is the female who brings home food to the family. Aren't we really naturally and genetically programmed to look towards the Alpha Female for Kibbles to fall from her a$$?
Here the Alpha Male, my husband; is noted as King of the Pride. He does provide security, including financial security but he also provides oversight, approval and/or disapproval. Sure he leaves the house each day for work or college but according to the basic critters here in this household, he doesn't bring home any fresh meat.
The Guinea pig squeals when the Alpha Male opens the fridge to grab a cold beer, but all in vain. The Alpha Male is not programmed to recognize the Piggy's squeal as a plea of, "Hey, while you're in there grab me a carrot or stalk of celery please."
At her young age she knows the details of planning a weekly meal menu and subsequent grocery list. The Kroger supermarket is her domain for she can show anyone where an item can be found.
It is after the shopping trip when our pack is delighted to see my SUV back into our driveway. They know, that when I lift the back hatch - bags upon bags of Kibbles will fall out of it's a$$ too. Poor Piggy who being caged misses the glorious arrival of a bountiful grocery kill. Although he soon squeals in anticipation as we put the groceries away and place the veggies the crisper drawer.
Top all of this off with the preparation of three human meals per day, the scraping of leftovers into the dogs bowl, the baking of cookies, the maker of various beverages - it is plainly clear on whom naturally provides a bountiful supply of kibbles.
So, tell me again - what is up with all of this talk about it being the men who bring home the bacon?
We've been getting quite a bit of rain here in Savannah, Ga this past week. That's a good thing for being in a bit of drought we really need the water. I don't mind the rain much, for I have a nice covered front deck with a tin roof. It is so relaxing to sit out there on a rainy day, kick my feet up and enjoy the fresh washed air and a good book.
That's exactly what Squirt and I were doing last night just before supper, while the oven fried chicken was in progress. A flock of chickadees came to visit and we sat there and enjoyed watching them fly on, in and around our Dependable Whooo Hooo Ghosts.
Then all of the sudden, the ground shook and then sounded the most eeriest groan followed by a great big ripping sound. We sat there with our jaws dropped to our knees as we watched the entire tree tip over into the ditch behind it.
The Whooo Hooo Ghosts hung on as the flock of chickadees flew away. Who would think that they were just heavy enough to bring that whole tree down? There must had been a flying monkey or two that we didn't see.
Thankfully the tree, or rather mutant large Redbush wasn't large enough to hit the house behind it. Truthfully over the past few years our front yard real estate has been getting smaller and smaller. Wash out and erosion for the most part. Considering the house on the other side, we don't have much to complain about. They have absolutely no back yard at all!
My guess is to stay tuned, by the looks of things all it will take is another flock of Chickadees and maybe at least one flying monkey - and their entire mobile home is going to roll over backwards.
That's ok though, for now without the Redbush tree blocking my view - all that needs to happen is loose that house and I have a clear view straight to the Vernon River.
Rainy mornings are wonderful, if you plan on sleeping in late and enjoying the soothing pitter patter of raindrops up on your roof. Except if such a rainy morning falls mid-week on a Wednesday forcing you to wake up to dutiful responsibilities.
Nothing to complain about, especially when such fulfilled responsibilities are met with adoration and appreciation. Like how I am greeted every morning when I walk out of my front door. Meet our three stooges; Amy, Hummer and Oreo.
Every morning I find these little darlings snuggled up on the same chair anxiously awaiting to greet me. Sure, they also know that I will provide for them kibbles and thankfully this Friday they will also be provided each a new loving home. Now if only I could catch their Momma and take her off to the vet to get spayed.
This morning's exit went a little bit differently. As I stepped over our threshold and upon our welcome mat, my Ked's immediately detected something cold, wet and squishy. Poo on your shoe is not an encouraging way to start your morning. However when I lifted my foot there was a sigh of relief followed by an anguished exclamation of, "Eeeeeeeew!"
I had stepped upon a baby bullfrog and as if that wasn't good enough, nearby on the porch were two full grown bullfrogs offered to me to cook up for breakfast. I swept them off the porch in angst, but was careful to acknowledge these wonderful gifts from my adoring and appreciative furry family.
Even though I would have preferred a gift basket of fruit.
Elton John collects photographic art and has lent an entire monograph of US Photographer Nan Goldin's "Thanksgiving" to an art gallery in Newcastle, England.
The entire monograph was pulled out of the gallery after British police confiscated a numbered print of "Klara and Edda Belly Dancing." Elton says that removing this piece removes from the entire art collection so he pulled it ALL out of there.
I adore Elton John as a performer and as a person. His charities has helped thousands who suffer from HIV/AIDS and he brings awareness and attention to this tragic cause, among other matters. However, I must digress and say that this photograph is NOT art.
I wouldn't say that it is pornography either, but simply two girls whether they be sisters or friends, playing in the privacy of their home. It is innocent, they're playing and having fun without having any fear or notion that they are being exploited. Nor that this photograph would travel all around the world uncensored.
It is a terrible photograph when it comes to lighting, contrast and color. I'm sure this photograph was chosen out of a bunch of photos taken that evening just because of the shock value hiding behind that yellow circle. The fact that there are perverted pedophiles out there doesn't help any either.
No, this photo or rather this moment does NOT belong in an art gallery or book. This moment should be private, between two innocent sisters/friends and there shouldn't had been a camera around in the first place. Not that there is anything wrong with nudity, especially in it's most innocent form. The Renaissance is full of nude art - and this isn't even close to being art.
I'm glad the British police pulled this photo and I'm glad Elton John pulled the entire collection out of there. Nan Goldin's work would make even Larry Flint blush and shudder by it's context. I wonder how she would feel if a picture of her cooch was all over the internet.