An Arkansas Education

I always hate telling people I am from Arkansas. I think everyone automatically thinks about Banjos and bare feet. I've always tried explaining to people that Arkansas is very country, think Hank Williams' "A Country Boy Can Survive" meets "Family Tradition". There are rednecks in Georgia and there are hillbillies in Arkansas. Hillbillies are completely different than rednecks. If you need more of an explanation, this website really sums it up.

I love Arkansas, I really do. It's relaxing, it's not over populated, there's nothing to do (which I happen to love), everything is just so simple in Arkansas. However, when the shit hits the fan there, it makes The Jerry Springer Show look like a Disney cartoon. We just got back from a 4 day Arkansas visit. How much shit can hit the fan in 4 days? You're about to find out.

We decided to make the 12 hour drive to Arkansas during the night so the baby would sleep the whole way. When we arrived in Arkansas on Wednesday morning, I was told my Grandfather (some of you may know him as Carnpa) had been admitted to the hospital. Grandpa has lived a rough life, he has asthma, emphazema, and various heart and lung ailments. He takes daily breathing treatments for his health issues. Carnpa spent all day Tuesday working in his yard, tending to his garden and mowing the lawn with his new riding lawn mower that he is extremely proud of. He worked too hard, he was over heated and worn out and decided he needed to take time out to do his breathing treatment. Since he had worked himself entirely too hard, the treatment wasn't working as quickly or as well as it typically does. So, Carnpa takes another hit then goes to bed. He wakes up in the night and he isn't able to breath so he drives himself to the emergency room and checks himself in. He said he thought he was dying and didn't want to wait around for someone to take him. When he checks into the ER, a nurse and an orderly are taking care of him and the nurse asks if he has any money or valuables he would like her to lock up in a safety box for him. Carnpa tells the girl he has $700 in his pocket but she's not taking it. Carnpa doesn't use banks, instead he keeps a nice chunk of change with him at all times and has an even bigger stash hidden away in his house. The nurse and the orderly gave him something to help him sleep after a doctor checked him out. Later, Carnpa wakes up, checks the pocket of his jeans which were laying on a nearby table. The money is gone! My Grandpa insists the orderly stole the $700 from his pocket while he was sleeping. Carnpa has the hospital security call the local police who come to the hospital and make a report. As if having $700 stolen from you while you are in the emergency room isn't bad enough, the doctor tending to Carnpa gives him the wrong blood pressure medication and Carnpa has a bad reaction and is taken to the ICU. By this time, it's Thursday and they want to keep him over night in the ICU to monitor his high heart rate and blood pressure. Friday comes along and they still won't release him. The hospital's policy is to keep ICU patients over the weekend if they are in ICU on Friday after a designated cut-off time. Carnpa ends up staying in ICU all weekend. Apparently, he was so angry over the stolen money that he treated the hospital staff very badly and was kicked out of the hospital on Monday. So, first they steal $700 from an old man, then they give him the wrong medication which puts him in the ICU, then they kick him out for being difficult. Lesson #1: Do not go to the hospital in Arkansas.

I am straight up terrified of tornadoes. I think about them all the time and I actually plan where to hide in my house in case a tornado hits. Arkansas was hit with some really nasty stormy weather while we were there. There were 9 tornadoes in the area in one night, which somehow missed us by only a few miles. We were staying at my Grandma's house (Carnpa's ex-wife), my aunts and cousins were all there to see us. We were hanging out, catching up and playing pool. My cousin Rance suddenly gets a whiff of something smelly, like poop. Everyone in the house starts searching for the smell, assuming one of the dogs had an accident. Rance goes to grab a different pool stick and suddenly drops it, yanking his hand back and making a disgusted facial expression.. A nice big chunk of feces was stuck to the pool stick. Human feces. Someone pooped their pants and tried to clean it out, they managed to get poop on their hands and decided not to wash them, picked up a pool stick and left the turd behind. Lesson #2: Wash your hands after you clean poop out of your pants.

I'm the oldest of 5 and the most responsible and well adjusted of my Father's children. My oldest younger sibling is 22 years old and quite the little mess.You might remember her from the story I wrote about her wedding. In that story, I referred to her as "Tuna King" and I don't see any reason to stop considering she is still married to that lousy slob, Sir Eats A Lot. Although we might have to add on to his name; I'm thinking Sir Eats A Lot the Pudgy Predator has a nice ring to it. My Father decided to call Tuna and tell her that Carnpa was dying and she needed to get to Arkansas ASAP so she could say goodbye. Everyone tried telling Tuna that it really wasn't that serious, he was not dying. He was more likely to be arrested for assaulting an orderly. Nevertheless, Tuna called my mother and begged for money so she could drive to Arkansas and say goodbye to Carnpa. However, the real reason my dad told my sister Carnpa was dying was because my youngest sister was turning 13 and he was planning a birthday party at his house on Saturday and wanted all of his kids there. Tuna was the only child who was not in Arkansas at the moment so Dear Ol' Dad took advantage of Carnpa being in ICU and told her he was on his death bed in order to get her to Arkansas in time for the party. I would like to point out that Tuna has a job but never has any money. I know, it costs a lot to feed her hungry husband. Let me also point out that Tuna never makes any effort at all to visit our relatives in Arkansas even though I always invite her to ride along with us. She always manages to blame me for her never being able to visit. I digress.... Tuna arrives just in time for our youngest sister's 13th birthday party on Saturday. My dad lives with his girlfriend and her 14 year old daughter. Dad also has custody of my 8 year old brother. One of the things I always look forward to when I visit my dad is his fried catfish. It is the only catfish I will eat. It is so delicious that my mouth waters when I think about it. Seriously, this is the stuff dreams and fat are made of and it's wonderful! Anyway, my dad told me to be at his house between 5:00 and 6:00pm. We arrived at 5:30pm. That fat slob, Sir Eats a Lot managed eat all the fried fish before I even got there. When my dad told me this, I seriously considered stabbing him with a fork but I knew he wouldn't feel it through all those layers of fat. I also decided not to ruin my little sister's birthday party right when they were about to cut the cake. Once I realized it was a cookie cake slathered in the thickest purple frosting I've ever seen, all my cares melted away into a puddle of sugar and all things nice. Here is where the new addition to Sir Eats a Lot's name comes in. Just as Dad's girlfriend, Polly, unleashes the beast cake from it's white cardboard cage, I notice Sir Eats grab my 13 year old sister from behind. He wraps his arms around her blossoming 13 year old bosom and proceeds to lean down and her on the neck. I'll give you a minute to process that. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he makes me gag. I wasn't aware a person could be so horribly disgusting. My first instinct was to throw myself across the kitchen table and rip his face off his fat body; but no one else seemed to notice and I didn't want to cause a scene and ruin the party. I was also starving to death since I hadn't eaten since I had breakfast that morning around 9:00am and I didn't want to destroy the cake with my body when I had just made plans to destroy it with my mouth. So, I put on a happy face as we all sang Happy Birthday. Then my mouth begins to water and my stomach begins to growl and threaten to eat my body from the inside out as I watch as they slowly cut the cookie cake. My 13 year old sister wanted to cut the cake since it was her birthday but Polly's 14 year old daughter didn't like the way my sister was cutting the cake and they started arguing, slowing down the cake cutting and passing of plates process. Just as the cake was about to reach me, Polly's daughter who Polly prefers to call "Sassy", starts freaking out about her piece of cake having too much frosting. She starts screaming and demanding another piece. Too much frosting? Give me the damn slice and shut up!!! That's what I was screaming on the inside as "Sassy" begins screaming at my dad who is trying to calm her. Then "Sassy" runs out the backdoor, slamming it behind her. My dad, who has been giving me 10 tons of crap for the last 9 months about not bringing my baby to visit him, hands my baby back to me and runs out the door after "Sassy". Slowly everyone begins to crowd around the window in the back door. Since no one was paying attention, and there were plates full of cookie cake just sitting there all alone on the table, I make my way around the kitchen to the other side of the table. Just as I take a bite of cookie cake heaven, I look up to see if anyone is watching me cram this cake in my mouth and see my dad and "Sassy" pointing fingers and shouting in each others' faces. At that moment, my dad makes the best decision anyone has ever made and shoves the 14 year old into some bushes. The house cleared out faster than it would have if it had been on fire. I continued eating. I mean, what was I going to do? She had already managed to climb out of the bushes and was now running through the field behind my dad's house and heading straight for a fire station. My dad, who is an alcoholic and was on his 2nd case of beer, came back into the house and went out the front door. I heard him mutter "Little Bitch" as I took a bite out of my 2nd slice of cookie cake. Tuna and SEAL the PP (Sir Eats a Lot the Pudgy Predator) take off after "Sassy", beers in hand, chasing a 14 year old to a fire station to report my dad for assaulting a minor at his daughter's 13th birthday party. I planned on grabbing a 3rd piece of cookie cake but decided I wanted to keep my child.  I decided to book it before the Department of Children and Family Services were called. Lesson #3: Do not push a child into bushes for not wanting cookie cake. You will go to jail.

Today, Tuna called me to let me know Polly was trying to have her arrested for harassment. Apparently, Tuna had a facebook fight with Polly' sister and because I am so nice and I want you to feel better about your lives by allowing you to laugh at mine.... I copied the exact facebook fight that Tuna insists is going to be the reason Arkansas police travel all the way to Georgia to arrest her.

Polly: Tired been working on trailer n packing got till friday to be gone. Crack Ho Jr. has been great she has been working hard so proud of her!I can say I'm. A single women now! no drunks for me no. More.goodnite fb friends. (btw, she posted this at noon today and apparently it was night time at her house).
Polly's sister: if i didnt have ains id help but i wouldnt be any help with her. sorry
Tuna King: I see that talk Seal the PP and i had with you the other night ment nothing at all, i thought you understood and were better than that.
Polly's sister: shes better than to let people talk to her like you just did. Stfu.
Tuna King: Oh this must be Polly's sister that Polly's son hates so much. I hope you fucking die in the worst way possible bitch!!! Kbye
Polly's sister: yah he hates me so much hes here everyday. I bet ur whole family is full of druunk loosers. Get a life u scuzzy whore
Tuna King:  whats a scuzzy whore? that must be hillbilly talk. i dont keep alcohol i my house, i dont sit around and smoke pot in front of my children and i none of my sibling or i was on birth control at 14. so who is the scuzzy whore?
"Sassy": Tuna it's to regulate my periods because I skip months at a time & to help with my acne. Nothing else.   
Polly's sister: hey u dont know me so dont say things that are not true, are u really gonna pick on a 14 year old kid? I feel so sorry for u. Is your life so miserable that u want to try to make everyone as miserable as u? U have my pity.

Lesson #4 (and probably the most important lesson so far): I am a druunk looser and I might even be a scuzzy whore.
  

Strange Fingers

I love my personal space. To quote my favorite movie "Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine." I'm not, however, a big germaphobe. Yes, I wash my hands and stay clean and that sort of thing but, if I drop a cookie on the kitchen floor, there's a 92% chance I am going to pick that delicious treat back up and dust it off before sticking it in my mouth to be devoured. I don't waste delicious treats. Although, with 5 dogs living in my house right now, I do sometimes wonder just how much dog hair I consume in one day. It's probably best not to think about these things.

It is best to think about strangers putting their grubby fingers in my precious baby's mouth though. My daughter is teething. She drools a lot and chews on anything she can get her little mouth on. Which is why I wash my hands so much. Strangers don't always wash their hands and a certain stranger who came to purchase my husbands truck put her old lady fingers in my daughter's mouth while I stood there with a horrified look on my face. I ask you.... what do you do when a strange old lady puts her boney fingers in your baby's mouth????????

Did I Mention...

That I am part carny? Probably explains a lot. True story: My wonderful and beautiful grandmother who I love very much, went to the carnival in the country when she was approximately 18. Granny and her friend decided to ride the ferris wheel. While aboard the ferris wheel the young carny operating the ride took a liking to my Granny and decided to give her several free rides. Later he drove Granny and her friend home. A year or two later that carny became my father's father. Making me 1/4 carny.

As if this grandpa, who we will call Carnpa (only appropriate given his carny past), didn't add enough ridiculous to my life just by adding a dash of carny to my blood; The man actually licked my ear once. Yes, you read it right son! My own Carnpa licked the inside of my ear, wax and all. It happened on a Christmas visit to his house. Are you really that surprised that Christmas was involved? Me either. I was 13 years old, tall and skinny with long brown hair. I was sporting my new outfit, and lookin damn good if I do say so myself. No wonder he couldn't resist. I had on bell bottom khakis and a babydoll shirt with a big shroom on the front. As I walked into his house he got up from his rickety old recliner to greet me and my family. He said I looked like Cher in the 60s and 70s with my long hair and retro outfit. Then he leaned in and got himself a good old lick of my ear. I wouldn't say I was molested. I think that's pushing it. Violated for sure. Molested? Not quite. I mean, maybe he just likes the taste of ear wax or we could say he's just old and slightly insane. I'm sure the carnival circuit can really mess a man up. All those long nights operating ferris wheels can drive a person insane, just watching that wheel go around and around all night. He might have even gotten thrown up on a time or two or 12. I mean, besides, if I were asked to point out where he touched me on a doll it would probably be impossible. Most dolls don't even have ears, do they?

Either way you look at it, I'm still part carny with or without the ear lick.

Just a Quickie

After writing back to back posts about my MIL, I think it's only fair that I follow up with a post about my own mother. Lord knows she can be just as absurd, and the Lord would know because they are great friends. I don't have much time so this is just a quickie. Enjoy.

For a few years now, my mother has been dealing with various female health related issues, mostly bladder related. She went to several different doctors who all told her she had this condition or that disease. Each doctor she visited had a different theory. They put her on diets and new medications, they performed surgery after surgery and nothing seemed to be working. She was in a lot of pain for quite a long time.

A few months ago, I was leaving Starbucks, delicious hot coffee in hand. My phone rings and it was my mother, so I answered. We talk for a few minutes about her latest trip to a new doctor, while I sip my coffee in the car. She said this time they have really figured out what is wrong with me! I've heard that from her as many times as she has heard that from her numerous doctors. The new doctor thinks her problems stem from her bladder dropping while pregnant with me. Of course, everything is my fault. Without warning (remember I'm sipping a hot beverage), Mother begins to tell me that the new doctor has referred her to a physical therapist who has a magic touch. My mom said that the physical therapist can heal her by massaging her bladder and pelvis internally. Internally!

Just a quickie! And next time on to catch a Predator...... Doctors who touch their patients.

Now I Get It

I've been putting off writing this for a while now. Mostly because I didn't want to follow up Chrisuckmas with another hater blog about the MIL (mother-in-law for those of you not down with internet slang). Let me just say that I do not hate my MIL, I just find it difficult to get along with her sometimes. For years, I feel like, I have tried to be friends and it just hasn't always worked. I don't think it's anyone's fault, I just don't think we are meant to be BFF's. As I mentioned in Chrisuckmas, my MIL has not always been my biggest fan. My husband insists that she likes me now but I'm just not so sure. I feel like she just tolerates me because she knows I'm going to be around for the rest of her life and there's nothing she can do about it.

My in-laws have been living with us for 7 months. 7 MONTHS!!!!!! You might be thinking that 7 months is not really that long but let me remind you that 7 months is over half a year! Oh, and not only have they been living with us but their 2 dogs have been living with us as well. So, that's 4 people 5 dogs and a teething 6 month old baby in one 4 bedroom house. You are probably asking yourself the same question I have been asking myself for 7 months....

 As I mentioned, there are 2 dog-in-laws living with us at the moment. One of the dogs, let's call her Fatso, is obsessed with food. OBSESSED! The only time Fatso runs is when there is food on the floor. Then you better watch out because she will knock you over getting to that food and if you're not careful she will turn around and try to eat you next. I'm afraid to put the baby on the floor for tummy time because I don't want Fatso to mistake her for a dog cookie. My MIL actually makes homemade dog food for her 2 dogs. She also has to feed them pumpkin. Why the pumpkin? Because Fatso will eat anything. Including dog shit. So, my MIL has to feed all the dogs pumpkin so that Fatso doesn't go outside and indulge in a poop smorgasbord. Pumpkin apparently makes poop taste so bad that not even Fatso will eat it. Now that Fatso knows she can't eat the poop in the yard, she refuses to go outside. What's the point if you can't eat shit? Well how and where does Fatso poop, you ask? She simply holds it in until she literally explodes. On more than one occasion Fatso has simultaneously shit all over my house while throwing up more shit. Yes. Shit came out both ends at the same time! Shit came out of the dogs mouth! The dog had so much shit inside her that it just exploded out of her. I'm surprised it wasn't coming out of her ears.

I think my MIL has always wondered why her son married me and not a girl I like to refer to as ass to mouth girl. Ass to mouth girl is a girl that my husband dated for a year while he and I were on a break. A2M girl was terrified of getting pregnant so she refused to let my husband have normal intercourse with her. Instead, she preferred rear entry. One day, A2M girl was feeling extra generous and decided to give my husband a little oral pleasure after participating in some rear entry lovin. Yes, the girl my MIL probably wishes her son had married, removed his penis from her rump and immediately licked her poop off of it. You can't spell classy without ass. 

I think I finally get it, the reason my MIL doesn't like me is because I don't eat shit.