Fortunately/Unfortunately

Fortunately, I now know how to spell fortunately (see previous post for multiple misspellings).  You can always count on your hubby to point out your mistakes.  Awww, and all this time, I thought that was why we had mothers. 

Unfortunately, between Thanksgiving and Christmas my butt has grown to epic-size proportions.  Think full on apple bottom with a little cottage cheese on the side.  This lead to my first Spanx purchase. 

Oh.  My. God. 

Tight does not even begin to describe that torture device.  No wonder they work; you can't eat, drink, sit, stand, smile, walk or talk while wearing them.  They are so tight that they are crotchless.  Why, you ask?  So you don't piss your pants in the time it takes to find a pair of scissors and cut them away from your screaming body.  Somewhere, some woman is crying, because the manufacturers did not think to add the same safety feature for your butt hole.  Regardless, if you for one second thought that the fact that they are crotchless might make them sexy, you are sadly mistaken.  (Did crotchless underwear cease being sexy in 1988?  Was it ever?).  Due to the (w)hole crotchless feature, if you try to pull them down below your boobs, they give you a fine ass camel toe. 

If you are considering anorexia and a load in your pants, I recommend Spanx.  For everyone else, there's always diet and exercise.

I'm Dreaming of a White Trash Christmas

I don't know why I decided to blog. I never finished, ok, never even started my wedding album. Unlike many of my friends and fam, I've never been one to journal, scrapbook, or keep track of anything, much less my goings on. Maybe I decided to blog, because I love reading my friends' and families' blogs; they remind me of how happy I am that don't have one, two, or three kids. Maybe it's because you just can't make this stuff up. Or maybe I need something to look back at when I'm older. Maybe I'm just plain old. Or lame. Oh well. Here goes...


I've never claimed to be classy.  Many years ago, the following statement was made about several of my friends and me, "You see these girls and they look so pretty and classy...then they open their mouths."  -Jeff Everson. 

What ev.  When your idols are Posh Spice and the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders that's what you get.

So, I was about to go running on Christmas Eve, when I opened the mail to find this:

Merry Christmas!  Um, no it's not.  P.S., don't even bother trying to get the Port Barre Police Department on the phone on Christmas Eve.  Even if you do, good luck understanding what the hell they're saying.  P.S.S. When someone tells you that they're getting your ticket "fixed," check to make sure that they really did.

Anyhoo, after an hour-long run plus a fight with my husband about whether or not I was going to the pokey and would be in the Christmas addition of the Inquisitor http://www.theinquisitor.com/, I felt much better.  Although I did hide when the doorbell rang.  Fortuneately it was only my neighbor dropping off some home-made pickles.  I just said that in my head, and it sounded really dirty--he really did make home-made pickles.  Bart and I then dropped my ride off at my parents' house and parked it there until today.  I want to give a shout out to Katie's dad for gettting my warrant pulled!  Thanks Jim Smith!

Christmas day was wonderful and uneventful.  The day after Christmas, I was hanging out with my family when Bart called.  We small talked for a few minutes, then he asked whether my mom was there.  The convo went something like this: 

Bart: Hey, is your mom around?
Me: Sure, she's sitting right next to me.
Bart: Will you ask her if she can take a bullet out of my face in about an hour?
SILENCE.
Me: Mom, can you take a bullet out of Bart's face before we go to dinner?
Mom: Sure, let me go shower first, so I'll be ready to go out to eat.  Tell  him to meet me at my office.

[Insert every possible redneck joke here.]

Mom and I loaded up and headed to her office.  Fortuneately I bought Bart a fancy camera for Christmas, so the bullet--pre, during, and post removal--were fully documented.  (Pics to follow once uploaded).  Bart now has two stitches and a really good story in his arsenal.  Pun intended.  For those of you asking the million dollar question, Brannon is the Dick Cheney of Christmas '09.  Shout out to Brannon for doing what so many have wanted to do for so long! 

With that said, here is a list of our best and worst Christmas Gifts of '09:

Misty's Best and Worst:
Worst-arrest warrant
Best-home gym (Thanks Bart)
*This was really key, alebeit unplanned, due to the fact that I couldn't leave the house (see arrest story above).  Also key in the event I actually got arrested and had to fight some bitches in jail.

Bart's Best and Worst:
Best-the story value that comes with being shot in the face.
Worst-not having a blog to tell the story to everyone.