After reading a fashion blog, I’m ashamed of myself. I suffer from fashion faux pas’ism. I have chipped nail polish-which, according to this blog, is a huge no-no. Chipped nail polish tells people you’re lazy and don’t like to take care of yourself. No, not shaving your legs for one week because no one else sees your legs and you personally don’t care is laziness. Which I’ve done. Not out of laziness necessarily, but I was rebelling against society. Yeah, that’s it. And my nail polish sometimes chips because I buy cheap-ass polish because I’m poor and can’t afford to have my nails done like a good little chickie. If I had a man, I’d be more inclined to be a girly girl. Which I love doing. Hey if all y’all click my text link ads I can save enough money to buy me a Russian mail order groom.
If bitching was a talent-I’d be rich.
I am starting a new, unheard of campaign on this little page I call my blog. I’m not sure if many of you are aware, but, many rednecks have no decent place to call home. They need a family who loves them. A family who will take them in, care for them, love them, bathe them and otherwise take care of any needs. This is where we come in. Starting today, Adopt A Redneck begins. Several times a week I will post an adoptee and the first person who can convince me of his or her desire to be a good redneck guardian-will fill out all necessary paperwork and take the little redneck home. Just comment with your information and I will choose who takes Ray Bob to their blog home.
My first redneck up for adoption is Ray Bob. He is 25 years young and can cook a mean squirrel. He enjoys spitting tobacco juice in coffee cans, coon huntin’ and grooming his toenails with a knife. You don’t have to worry about getting cold during the winter months with Ray Bob. He can skin a pole cat in 10 minutes and have a brand new coat sewn together in 20. Ray Bob’s wife left him last summer to join the carnival that came to town and he is in desperate need of a family. Please consider adopting Ray Bob.
This should get me some hits from people searching for pr0n on Google. I’m actually speaking of the pizza I bought last night from Little Caesars, which I now regret since I was awakened at 4:30am with heartburn. I’ve had 4 Rolaids. Not only do I still have heartburn, but, my burps are minty. Yummy.
I suppose it’s time for an update. Where shall I begin. Oh, that’s right, I really don’t have a life. Except for the made up version in my head, but, that involves me living in the woods as a true mountain woman and if I started discussing this, all of you would really know I was completely nutso. Job situation. Lied to. Not surprising. Worked one day. The job would have lasted one week. That’s it. No more. No other chance of being hired permanently. I was offered a job assisting someone with customers for a web design site, but do to unforeseen circumstances which happened early Friday morning I think I disappointed her-so I’m not completely sure where this job is going at the moment. If she reads this-I really do want the job. I did interview for another job, although I never posted about it because it seems that when I do, I jinx myself in some way. This would be with a CPA firm, auditing, of all things, Workers’ Compensation information of employers in the state. When I got the call for the interview I couldn’t remember what it was for-then when I was actually being interviewed he told me “when we posted the job in February”… gee, I’ve sent out a 1000 resumes since Feb. No wonder I couldn’t remember what the hell it was. It would be a good job-contract only for, they’re hoping, 3 years. My chances of getting it-slim. They received 150 resumes and picked 20 of the best-mine being one. Even on the slim chance I did get the job-it wouldn’t begin until the end of May or the first part of June. All of you may say, “Why didn’t you take the job for a week to get a little money?”
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I am cracking up. I love this old woman.
Man goes into a cocktail lounge and approaches Maxine sitting by herself:
Man: “May I buy you a cocktail?”
Maxine: “No thank you, alcohol is bad for my legs.”
Man: “Sorry to hear that. Do they swell?”
Maxine: “No, they open!”
