Sir Cuss A Lot

The chickens have come home to roost - I'm reaping what I've sown and this is some BULLSHIT! Why I can't ever keep stuff I like? Why I can't have no fun? Why is it that my joy must be wrenched from me all the time?

Here's the thing A lot. And I like it. A lot!

But at the prime cursing age of 46 I have to stop. I have to just stop cold turkey - can't do it a bit at a time. I can't slap on a UnoCussNoMo patch from the drugstore and wean myself of the urge to enhance my sentences with expletives. Why you ask?  Well, I have a three year old who apparently likes to curse too. Not a good look.

His dad does not curse as often or as colorfully as I do, so when Mason started letting them rip we knew I was the culprit. *Hangs head in shame*

I've even tried to downplay it to my hubby, saying shit like, "Man, that boy didn't say that. You trippin'. Well he has never said that in front of me. You need to stop lying on my baby........"  Well, no more. I'm busted.

Hubby's ass is out of town so we video chat with him. Last night Mason was talking to his dad and the flash suddenly went off in his eyes and he said, "Whaaaaat the fuck!?"  We "lost" the connection immediately, and when he called back I denied hearing any swear words. *Hangs head in shame again*

So now I have to give up cursing. And don't suggest I use those cutesy cuss words like "shut the front door." That won't work for me. I'd mess it up and say "shut the fucking front door."

Maybe I can I find a curser support group. Hi, I'm Angie and I like to curse.

 

 

 

 

Say My Name, Say My Name......

Did you know that somewhere someone is calling you by a moniker that is not your own? They may even be referring to you by the clothes you wear, your hairstyle or the car you drive. Sometimes they know your real name sometimes they don’t.

One of my friend’s moved to a new neighborhood a few years ago. Her next door neighbor is fair skinned black guy with long wavy black hair that he wears in two pony tails down his back. So we named him Pocahontas…….you see the connection. We’ve even shortened it to just “Poke.” It’s gotten so bad my friend’s husband called him Poke to his face. It just slipped out, “Hey Poke, what’s up?” LOL The guy never even noticed.

In college one of my friends had a crush on a guy, but we didn’t know his name so we called him “Maxima Man” because he drove a Maxima. I don’t think we ever found out his real name because he had no interest in my friend. at. all.  Latter we found out we should’ve been calling him “Gay Maxima Man.”

There was also a really tall skinny guy who lived in the dorm next dorm. We called him “Noodle Man.” When we saw the really tall skinny girl he was dating, we dubbed her “Noodle Woman.”

Someone else I know was kind of dating a guy who was about fifteen years her senior. We referred to him as “Old Fella.” She’d say, “I went to eat bar-b-que with Old Fella last night” and we thought nothing of it.

It’s really easy to slip up and call someone by their nickname to their face. So be careful. And if someone says “Hi” to you and there’s a weird tag attached to it……you just found out your nickname.    “Hi, Perch Lips!”

.......But Gawd!

I visited a church today for the second and last time. After I went the first time I said I wasn't going back but I did anyway. I mean it this time, I'm not going back. The minister talks in this infomercial voice that I can't stand and they do a lot of "form and fashion" stuff I don't care for. When I say form and fashion, I mean, stuff for show. The "tithers" get to take their offering up to the alter, while the people who don't or can't tithe sit and watch. What part of the game is that? What, shame the non-tithers into tithing by singling them out? Hmmm, maybe some people tithe but just don't like to get up? Also, there is too much shit on their offering envelope for my nerves too. Tithe, offering, seed offering, debt free offering, and Pastor's love offering......stop it! Y'all gittin' six dollars, split it up however ya see fit.

Well, this morning I again promised myself, "No, you will not be coming here again, I don't care if you have to go to the Catholic church with Mr. Angie and do the up-and-down-on-yo-knees dance." Here's what did it, the Minister was hyping up the congregation with the ".......But Gawd!" piece. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this, it goes something like this, "I could have been dead sleepin' in my grave, but Gawd!" and on and on like that. The straw that broke my fat camels back was when Reverend Infomercial said, "I could be wearing my shoes on my head and my hat on my feet, but Gawd!"

If you know anything about me you know I laughed. Out loud. And my shoulders went up and down a lot while I laughed. I laughed so hard I had to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes. Yep, no more Reverend Infomercial for me. I can't laugh quiet enough for that foolishness. Your hat on your feet?! C'mon man! Really......you are doing to damn much to sound all old and religious. Your shoes on your head?  Again, C'mon man!

I used to go to church with my grandmother when I was a little girl, and there was this old deacon who would pray the longest prayer know to man every communion Sunday. He used to say all kinds of funny stuff in his prayer. My favorite was, "Thank ya Gawd for not lettin' my bed be my coolin' bowd (sounds like bode)." Even then I giggled, thinking, you have to cool off on a board when you die? Can't you just cool off wherever you die? How cool do you have to be before they can take you off the "coolin' board"?

See, I'm too silly to go to back to that church. If anyone knows of a good Baptist, Full Gospel or Non-Denominational Church in or near Slidell Louisiana, please let a sistah know. Clearly, I need Jesus. o_O

Up-Date This House! #1

We've been in our new (to us) house for almost 4 months now, and have made zero changes.  What's crazy about that is the first time I took a tour of the house I saw hundreds of changes I would have to make if we decided to buy. The house was built in the late 60's and it looks like the prior owner bought the current appliances in the late 70's. You know the Br.ady B.unch wall oven, wall paper on bathroom walls, and ....wait for it........paneling. The dark brown paneling in the great room has become the bane of my existence.  I don't have a problem putting in a little sweat equity so the paneling didn't scare me at first - I thought I'd just take it down and paint the walls. Well, after closer inspection, I realized there is no dry-wall behind the paneling. What the hell?!! Who does that?

Mr Angie is fine with the paneling. He says it's cozy. What?! Oh, it's cozy because he doesn't want to deal with taking it down, plus his ass is country enough to think dark brown paneling is cozy. *sigh*

Anyway, we went looking at tile for the sun room the other day at the Ho.me De.pot and damn it that shit is high! Mr Angie was looking at the expensive stuff and I had moved all the way over to the damn Linoleum aisle. It's the sun room man, I'm not trynna do all that.  I know you're thinking, "But not the Linoleum, hunh?" My answer to that is yes, yes the gottdamm Linoleum. Ya'll know I ain't got no job! And Mr. was over there looking at that high ass tile, but he ain't really trying to dole out that kind of money for tile.......he likes to window shop. Not me. I like to look at the stuff I can afford, figure out how to make it mine, and move on it. Period. "Sir, can you cut me off enough of dis here Linoleum to cover 297 square feet please?" We're done.

I gotta get the sun room together first. I need at least one room to reflect me and my style. Not to mention I always wanted a sun room to sip coffee and read in. So, that's the first project on the Up-Date House Tour. I'll try to post pics of the process.