The Mullet Guide.

Beth April 5 2009 Humor 3 Comments

Through my wanderings at Walmart at 3am, any day of the week, I have witnessed plenty. Inbreds, mullets, rednecks, and honestly, I thought this was all the world had to offer-that is, until I found the guide to the perfect mullet.

Duct tape this to the drywall, my little rednecks, you’ll need this the next time your cousin Babs, who’s been in cosmetology school for 9 years, comes over to “cut” your hair.

Rednecks and Mullets

West Virginia Delegate Wants To Ban Barbie, Promote Ultimate Fighting and My Beef With Jay Leno.

Beth March 12 2009 For The Tweeters, Humor, Redneck Antics 12 Comments

Barbie vs. State Government

It’s no wonder West Virginia was recently named the “Least Happiest State To Live,” by some research company who has nothing better to do- just like one of our great, please note sarcasm, lawmakers, Delegate Jeff Eldridge, who happens to hail from the county that is literally a stone’s throw away from me.

Why is Delegate Eldridge an idiot? As most have already read/seen in the news, he proposed legislation to ban Barbie in West Virginia. He seems to think girls look at her as a role model, forcing them to make appearance and physical beauty a priority over academics. I beg to differ.

My cousin and I lived to play “Barbies” when we were little. We would drag out her Dream House, furnish it, she had kids, married, worked, took vacations in her RV and guess what? We were A students. We used our imaginations, unlike a majority of kids today who sit in front of the television, computer, or gaming systems, needing constant outside entertainment. I didn’t grow up wanting to be a woman whose proportions, if set in real life, wouldn’t allow me to walk through a door sideways. Let’s ban Transformers so little boys don’t get the idea of growing up to be a boxy-robot who can transform by bending an arm and a leg in a different direction.

By the way, Delegate Eldridge, just this week, proposed new legislation to bring Ultimate Fighting to the state as “recreation.” Yes, that’s it. Violence. We need more violence in the least happy state of the Union.

Oh and Jay Leno? He can suck it for his comment, (he calls it a joke), stating, “As if selling dolls with teeth in West Virginia was realistic.” Sure, I make fun of rednecks and living in this state. But that’s just it. I live here. I know the truth.

My Superstition: Red Bic Lighters-The Root Of All Evil.

Beth February 20 2009 For The Tweeters, Humor, Life As I Know It 3 Comments

The Evil Red Bic Lighter

I’m thoroughly convinced the red Bic lighter my mom found in my car a few days ago, has been the source of, dare I say, the absence of luck in my life, for who knows how long. I never purchase red lighters. Especially red, Bic lighters, because all good little rednecks know, this tube of flammable liquid is the root of all evil. I was warned years ago by a cousin and I refuse to even touch one.

Mom: Is this your lighter? (She’s always losing lighters)
Me: (Upon seeing the color) Jesus! No, take it.
Mom: Oh good grief, you’re not like, (insert unknown Kohl’s employee name here), are you? He won’t even touch a red lighter.
Me: Yes, I am- now take the lighter and slowly back away. Now I know why my life has been crap lately. I don’t know where the lighter came from- it’s a conspiracy.
Mom: You really need help.
Me: Ya think?

Yes, I am superstitious when it comes to certain things. If I forget and walk under a ladder, you can bet your sweet ass I’m walking right back through and going around. A black cat runs in front of my car? I freak. Once, years ago, a friend and I were out driving, a black kitty ran across the road and I swear- I turned around and went home. God forbid a bird swoops its way into the house, or pecks at a window. It’s happened and I’ve waited for bad luck. Friday the 13th comes around? If I had it my way, I’d lock myself in the house and not move.

Come to think of it, since ridding myself of the red Bic, my luck hasn’t changed. Maybe I should light a few candles, burn some incense and chant a red lighter mantra. Or, stick a Buckeye in my pocket.

Why Erectile Dysfunction Drugs Make Me Giggle.

Beth February 16 2009 Humor 5 Comments

Milk, Bones, Anyone?

The spammers are going to love this post due to the subject matter. But, the way I see it, I have never discussed erectile dysfunction before and yet every day, I receive at least 4-8 comments with the keywords. Remember- I’ll delete your comment if you try to name yourself Erectile…etc.

Ok, why do erectile dysfunction drugs make me giggle? I know the problem isn’t a laughing matter-and it isn’t the drugs, nor the, uh, condition that makes me laugh-the possible side effects do, though. I’m a late night television watcher, which is when 99.9% of these commercials are shown. As I was sitting here one night, bored, pondering life and its meaning, one such commercial interrupted my thoughts. (Side note- ever notice how the advertisements show happy men, playing golf and fishing- sort of like the male version of Summer’s Eve commercials, where women are running on a beach after conquering that “not so fresh” feeling?) I watched, I listened and what caught my attention? “Use of this drug may cause a runny, or stuffy nose.”

Let me get this straight, pun intended. A man takes a drug to assist him in waking up Mr. Lucky, but he may have a dripping, stopped up nose in the process? Picture this: I’m on a date and the guy keeps sniffing. Not that dating was already difficult, I now have to piece together possible erectile drug side effects, or, a guy with horrible allergies. This alone forces me to reconsider sleeping with a guy on the first date-which I don’t do, thank you very much. But, for curiosities sake and of course research, let’s say I decided to take the plunge. Romantic, candle-lit room, rose petals scattered across the bed, soft music. The moment is near, we’re kissing, caressing and then it happens.

For The Man Sniffles

Drip. Drip. Drip.

From the wrong end.

Yes, bodily fluids are involved while having, uh, relations, but a nose full of snot isn’t what I consider a turn-on.

“Honey, let me on top, your nose is dripping on my chest.”

Romantic? I think not. I know the old saying, “Judge the size of a man’s penis by the size of his nose, (or hands, or feet and trust me-so not true),” but what is the connection, physically, with a man’s nose and his penis? And God Forbid the dude ends up with an erection lasting longer than 4 hours, because it would be my ass driving him to the ER-at which point, I’d wish him luck, hand him a tissue-for his nose and watch him hobble his way to the triage nurse.

Maybe I should dismiss dating and adopt a dog.