Lucy-Furr.

Does anyone have a pair of Falcon gloves that I can borrow? Or maybe a suit of armor?

My kitten, Lucy-Furr, has suddenly become a Rastafarian. She has a strip of dreadlocks all the way down the middle of her back that sticks up and makes her look like she’s got porcupine quills, and even with Rea holding her down while I try to brush her, and vise versa, she scratches and bites us so bad that we scream in pain, and there is blood everywhere, and her eyes turn black, and she whispers something through the air between her blood-tipped-fangs that sounds almost like she’s saying “I’m going to kill you all in your sleep…”

For all of these reasons and more; her porcupine-looking-dreadlocks remain, and I’m finding myself wondering if I may need to hire an experienced exorcist priest to come and remove the demons from this so-called-kitten.

No disrespect, but this shit is beyond the Kitten Whisperer’s expertise.

Help!

Help us!

No, seriously.

HELP.

Dear God, please…

S.O.S

This is the only way that Rea and I can communicate with the outside world, because fortunately for us, Lucy-Furr has never learned how to read. She has us trapped in the basement, and when Nash tried to save us from her earlier, she simply backhanded him with her left paw, and he flew threw the air, bounded off of the wall, and was knocked unconscious. She laughed afterwards like a maniac and I may have peed a little.

If anyone could please come over and try to entice her away from us with a trail of Meow Mix (laced with Vicodin) I would surely appreciate it.

There is Still at Least One use for a Landline.

My Mom told me that the other day she couldn’t find her cell phone, so she used her land-line phone to call Auntie Verna.

Auntie V:  “Hello?”

Mom:  “Yeah, I can’t find my cell phone, so I was wondering if you could call me so I can hear it ringing?”

Auntie V:  “Which phone are you calling me from?”

Mom:  “The one in the kitchen…”

Auntie V:  “Why didn’t you just call your cell phone with that phone then, dumbass?”

Mom:  “Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that…”

After she told me the story, I shook my head and asked her, “Mom, do you sometimes even amaze yourself?”

Mom grinned and said, “Yeah.”

The Impromtu Family Reunion at Subway.

Mom and I ran into my Dad at the Subway on Cook Road yesterday.  We had stopped there for dinner on the way to a play in Bellingham, and while we were eating, low and behold, in walks Dave Button!

Mom gave him the other half of her sandwich, but she complained about it later when she didn’t have anything to snack on.  Dad tried to steal half of my sandwich as well, but I called him out on it as he was trying to shove it in his pocket.

Me:  “What if Mom and I weren’t here tonight?  Would you have starved?”

Dad:  “No, I would’ve taken a bite of someone else’s sandwich…”

Me:  “That’s not even funny, because you probably would!”

Dad:  “You wouldn’t believe how much food people waste!  I’m just doing my part to help the environment.”

Of course I also teased him about his hair hat that makes him look like he has doll hair on the top of his head.  I asked him why he even bought such a hideous hat, and he said, “What do you mean, ‘why’?  I’m losing my hair and I have a snaggle tooth.  When you get to be my age and start losing your teeth and your hair, then you will understand.  The top of my head gets cold!”

Me:  “First of all, most women don’t get bald spots on top of their heads, and even if I ever do, I still would never wear a hat with doll-hair on it!  I would wear my Seahawks beanie to cover my bald spot, and to keep my head warm, and where is your Seahawks beanie by the way?  I would also purchase dentures that fit my mouth; if and when I begin to lose my teeth.  I wouldn’t be like George Washington and carve a new tooth out of wood.”

As if on cue, Dad took his partial denture out of his mouth at the table, in order to remove a piece of lettuce.  With one of his front teeth missing out of his mouth he said, “I don’t wear dentures; I wear a partial and it fits my mouth fine…”

Mom and I cracked up.

Me:  “Dad, you just said yourself that you have a ‘snaggle-tooth’ and the one tooth that is a snaggle-tooth, is the only tooth in your mouth that isn’t real.  It’s bigger than your other teeth!  Did you get it in Mexico or something?  Did you steal it off of a horse?”

Dad, still missing one of his front teeth, replied, “Jeesh!  We’ve got a feisty one here tonight, Margaret…”

Mom:  “You have to be careful with what you say to Whitney, because everything you say can and will be used against you on her blog.”

Dad:  “I’ve seen some of the blogs that she’s written about you, and they’re not very flattering.  They’re not all true, are they…?”

Mom grinned sheepishly:  “Well…yes.”

Dad laughed:  “I guess you can’t blame her for writing about it then, huh?”

Mom shrugged and smiled.

Me:  “Mom you secretly love it.  I’ve practically made you famous!”

Mom:  “Yeah, famous for farting.”

Dad:  “Ladies don’t pass gas.  You don’t really pass gas that much, do you Margaret.?”

Again Mom grinned sheepishly:  “Well…yes.”

Dad and I cracked up.

When I showed Mom and Dad the pictures on my phone, Mom said, “Oh god, why didn’t you tell me how awful my hair looked!”

Dad said, “My hair looks GREAT!”

Me:  “Dad, seriously?  It looks like Davy Crocket made a coonskin cap out of possum roadkill, and now you are proudly displaying it on top of your head.”

Dad:  “My customers love it!  They say that it gives me character.”

Me:  “Dad, you ARE a Character!  You don’t need anything to give you MORE character.”

Dad:  “Well that’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Me:  “Do your cats get frightened when they see you wearing your hair-hat?  They might think that you will make a hat out of them next…”

Dad:  “Have you met our new cat, Sammy?  She’s so cute!”

Me:  “You mean the one that you make me talk to over the phone?  The one that you spayed twice?”

Mom:  “You spayed her twice?!  How in the world did that happen?!”

Dad:  “Well I didn’t do it on purpose.  We adopted her, and we didn’t know that she was already spayed, so she ended up getting spay-ded twice.  Poor little thing.  She was so upset about it.”

Me:  “Of course she was upset!  She got spay-ded twice!  How would you feel if you got spay-ded twice, huh?  Never mind, don’t answer that question…”

Dad:  “Since I am a male I would have gotten neutered, and I wouldn’t have enjoyed it one bit!  You should be glad I wasn’t neutered, because where would you be right now if I had been neutered, huh?”

Me:  “…and that’s the part of the conversation that I was hoping to avoid.”

Dad:  “You should be nice to your Mom and I, because without us, where would you be…?  Also, don’t forget that you still break the record for being the youngest person to ever float down the river.  How old was she, Margaret?”

Mom:  “6 weeks.”

Dad:  “Wow, 6 weeks old.  How did you grow up so fast, Whit?”

Me:  “It’s amazing that I grew up at all, considering that you dangled me over the side of the raft when I was 6 weeks old, just like how the Crocodile Hunter dangled his baby over a giant crocodile and made everyone get all up in an uproar!”

Dad:  “I never dangled you over the side of the raft, and I sure as heck never dangled you over a crocodile!  I held you in one of those backpacks on my chest, and everyone just couldn’t believe how cute you were!  Margaret, do you remember when you were pregnant with Whitney and we all got hit by a semi truck…?”

Mom:  “How could I ever forget that?  My water broke just a few days later and I almost lost her!”

Me:  “Dad, I heard that after the crash, you got out of the Checker and your shoulder was obviously dislocated, and even though Mom kept asking you if you were okay, you just kept insisting that you were just fine.  Then you walked a couple of steps and fainted right into the ditch.”

Dad:  “I never fainted; I’m a man!  Besides, I don’t remember fainting…”

Me:  “Of course you don’t remember it; you were passed out!”

Dad:  “Well if I remember right, the semi truck had actually crashed into the side of the Checker, and parked itself on top of my mother-in-law’s feet.  You would pass out too if you saw your mother-in-law stuck under a semi truck!”

Me:  “I’m sure that you’re right about that.”

In the end, it was a very sweet little visit, and it was nice to see my Mom and Dad together and enjoying each others company.  I have absolutely no photos of the 3 of us together, and now (thanks to one of the Subway employees who was nice enough to snap a few pics for us) I have a photo that sums the 3 of us up pretty perfectly:

Dad giving the ‘thumbs up’ in his crazy hat with doll hair sticking out of the top.  Mom sporting a sweet smile while proudly wearing her Native sweatshirt.  And me, standing between the two of them, looking a little bit like both of them, with a smile that says, “I still don’t understand how the 2 of these people ever got together and made a baby, but they did, and now that I’m a (somewhat normal) grownup I get to tease the crap out of both of them, and it’s glorious!”

And that, my friends, is called Sweet Revenge…

(Go ahead and try dangling me over the side of the raft now, Dave Button!)

The Evolution of Men.

Click on the following link to watch the video that this conversation refers to:  Man Humor

I just watched this with (an unnamed) friend, and we both agreed that this video most completely and accurately narrates the Evolution of Men, better than anything we’ve ever seen.

Maybe even better than “Men are from Venis and Mars”…

Me:  “Wait…did I just write ‘Venis’?”

My unnamed friend laughed and said, “Why didn’t you just say ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’?”

My reply was, “Because I meant to say ‘VENUS’…”

UFO:  “Oh…okay, you absolutely cannot post that on your blog…”

Me:  “What about if we have someone else read it first, and then we have a vote to decide whether or not it should go on my blog?”

UFO:  “But will it actually contain the word ‘penis’?”

Me:  “Of course it would!”

UFO:  “Then, NO.”

The Year of the Mullet.

When an old classmate posted this photo on Facebook recently, I just felt the need to officially rename the year of 1986-1987 as “The Year of the Mullet”.

Should we go a little further and take a vote on Best Mullet?

I just want to point out that I was actually able to pull off, both the Farrah Fawcett look with the feathered bangs, AND the actual mullet itself.

PLUS:

I also managed to femme up my own version of Don Johnson/Miami Vice attire.

So there you have it.

I’m throwing my hat into the ring as a Contender in “The Mullet Championship Round”.

Are there any other nominations?

 

Bunny Owners.

I have recently added Dog Walking to my professional resume. It has been a wonderful tool for getting me up earlier in the morning, you know, since I actually get paid to play with dogs and get exercise! I currently walk 4 different dogs for a total of 2 hours of walking each day, 5 days a week. That’s some great exercise!You would think that it would be pretty difficult to embarrass myself in this line of work, but rest assured; I have found a way…

Today I was walking Copper (the sweetest Labradoodle in the entire world) around her neighborhood. I always take her to this house that’s about 6 blocks away, because her favorite thing in the world is to go and visit the bunnies.

There are 4 bunnies who live in a really large, fenced, outdoor kennel, and Copper just loves to sit there and watch them for a few minutes. She doesn’t bark, or growl at all; she is just saying hello to her little Bunny Friends.

Well today, as we were walking up the hill, after visiting Copper’s Bunny Friends, we ran into 2 elderly men who were standing on the sidewalk chatting. One of the men tipped his hat to me (because he was such a gentleman) and said, “Well Hello, Copper! Is that Copper?!”

Copper got all excited, so I smiled and said, “Yes, this is Copper. And you must be one of the Boners…!”

Both men appeared stunned, and a good 3 seconds before I registered what I had just said…

Me: “I’m so sorry! I meant to say Bunny Owners! You must be one of the Bunny Owners!”

The other man completely avoided eye contact with me, and the Bunny Owner gave me a stiff smile and said, “Yes, they are my bunnies…”

Me: “Copper just LOVES to visit your bunnies! But I guess you already knew that…umm, yeah….
…nice weather we’re having today, huh?”

Both men appeared relieved and smiled as Copper and I hurriedly walked away. They both agreed, “Yeah it’s a beautiful day!”

Oh.

My.

Gargoyle.

Boners.

I called an old man a “Boner” today.

Bunny. Owner. BUNNY OWNER.

Bunny Owner!!!

Nash’s Diary – November 6, 2013

Today was just like any other day; Momma Rea woke up and fed me, let me outside to do my business, and then put me back to bed with Mom and Kitten before she headed off to work.  Mom got to sleep in today since it was her day off, so we just settled in for a lazy morning.

As usual, Kitten was driving me completely crazy.  She just can’t seem to leave my tail alone.  She thinks it’s her own personal play-thing, and I’ve HAD IT!  The next time that white, furry, little, purring little PSYCHOPATH so much as puts a NIBBLE on my tail, I’m going flatulate the fires of HELL onto her precious little kitten face until she cries out for meow-ercy.

Wait…I think I just saw Mom move a little bit.  Her arm.  She’s stretching!  Okay, now if she reaches out for her rectangle-machine-ringy-thingy and starts staring at it for hours, then it’s time to get up.  Time to get up.  Did you hear me world?  It’s TIME TO GET UP!!!!!!

Awww shizzle.  Mom rolled over and farted.

We’re in for another hour at least.

F#*% YOU KITTEN and your CUTENESS!!!

(An hour later)

Well Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m proud to announce that we’re up and on the move!  We’ve made it as far as the living room.  But I will give Mom credit for having changed into the coat that she wears when she leaves the pack (aka; got dressed).  As usual, I was banished to my little, tiny square area on the floor, while Kitten aka; Her Royal Cuteness was allowed to go anywhere she f*#%ing pleased.  She was allowed to do her business in the house, curl up around Mom’s neck, sit on Momma’s lap.   She can even drool freely and do silent, smelly farts without being mocked for it!  And as if my life wasn’t unjust enough…

KITTEN!  Stop playing with my Jungle toys DAMN YOU!  That is MY Rhino!  You wouldn’t believe what that kitten just did.  She just bit my Rhino in the arse as hard as she could, and she looked me right square in the eye while she did it.  She was MOCKING ME!  Well F#*% you KITTEN and your CUTENESS!!!

……….

I just woke up from a nap, and was shocked to find Mom wandering around, looking rather ambitious.  I wonder what this is all about…?  Omg, omg, omg, OMG!  Did she just say what I think she just said?  No.  It can’t be.  It is.  Be still my heart.  Mom is holding a leash.  I cannot contain myself any longer.  A WALLLLLLLKKKKKKKKK!!!  WALK, WALK, WALK, WALK, WALLLLLLLLLLLKKKKKKK!

Oh Lord, I think I just pooped my pants.  Oh god, please don’t let me poop my pants right now or Mom won’t take me on a walk anymore, and that would just completely break my heart Lord, seriously.  No pee either.  Lord please help me hold the pee in until I get outside okay?  I promise I’ll be good from now on.  I promise.  Oh god, I feel some almost coming out.  Of both ends.  Oh jesus, please help me…Oh lord…

MADE IT!

Mom:  “Holy crap Nash, you were just outside an hour ago.  Are we feeding you too much or something?  Jeesh!  I’ve never seen a dog poop so much!”

Gosh Mom, you’re like so judgmental.  And it’s not like you’re one to talk!  I’ve seen you running to the john with your pants around your knees many a time, and have I told anyone about it?  No.  It’s between you and me.  But guess what?  You tell everybody about how much I poop, and about that one time when I had the stomach flu and I spray painted the bedroom furniture, or that other time when you put that other dog in a kennel next to me and that other dog got explosive diarrhea and shat all over me.  You thought that was so funny.  And you know what Mom?  That hurts.  How would you have liked to be shat on like that?  How would you like to be shivering in a dog kennel, covered in another dog’s shat?  And have your Mom laugh at you??  Oh forget it, let’s let bygones be bygones.  We’re going for a WALK!!!

Oh my goodness Mom, can you smell all of these glorious smells?  It’s like there’s been a million, trillion, zillion, quadrillion dogs and animals peeing out here all over these trees and bushes.  Maybe even Bigfoot!  I believe in Bigfoot, Mom.  I totally do.  I’ve smelled some urine that is so strong that there’s just no other explanation for it.  It has to be Sasquatch urine.  You know?  Bigfoot.  Omg it all just SMELLS SO GOOD!

The only thing that makes it better is adding my pee to it.  There’s just no way to even describe to you, Mom, the way it feels to lift my hind leg in the air and let my urine just flow, you know what I mean?  There’s nothing better.

Trot, Trot, Trot…

Sniff, Sniff, Sniff…

Pee, Pee, Pee…

All of a sudden Mom pulled the leash so hard all of a sudden I thought that my eyeballs might bulge out from whiplash.  It was really rather hostile if you ask me.

She hollered:  “NASH!  STOP PULLING ON THE LEASH!!”

Is it just me, or was that just completely and totally hypocritical?  Pop out my eyeballs and break my neck, just to yell at ME for pulling?  What is this world coming to?  Animals just have no rights at all, I tell you what?!

Mom:  “NASH if you don’t stop pulling we’re going to go back home!  You’re BETTER than this!  Stop PULLING on your MOMMA!”

Oh god, now she’s just trying to shame me.  This always works.  Even though I know better, I always fall for it.  I have a bleeding heart, what can I say?  Alright Mom, sorry.  I’ll try not to be such a terrible, horrible dog who is ONLY just TRYING to be happy and enjoy life for ONCE!  I’ll go back to being the sad, miserable, depressed middle-aged bastard who just lies around waiting to die.  As you wish.  As YOU wish…

Two can play at this game!  HA HA!

Amidst all of the excitement and stimulation, I was getting to get a bit of low blood sugar.  Hopefully Mom remembered to bring treats, because it seemed to me that we were getting pretty far from home.  Oh good, Mom’s slowing down so it looks like we’re going to take a break.  Next to a store no less, so treats look to be on the way.  Very Promising indeed.  Yep-yep-yep.  Looks to be a good day today, yes sirree.

Umm wait a minute, I’m not going to jump to conclusions, but it seems like Mom may be tying me to some kind of metal thing.  Why would she do that?  I can’t remember this ever being part of the plan before?  She hasn’t watched that show “Dexter” in a while, has she?  Oh dear god!  Not Dexter!  She seems like she’s in a good mood though, so I don’t think she wants to stab me in the heart or anything like that.  She’s talking to me nicely too, so that’s always a good sign.  She’s just called me “good dog” for no apparent reason, so either she really, really loves me or…

Oh god.  There she goes.  She’s backing away slowly.  She’s walking away.  Oh no…

She’s telling ME to stay while SHE’S walking away.

This doesn’t look good.

She’s a runner.

After 9 years she’s abandoning me.

This.  Can’t.  Be.  Happening.

At a QFC?  Really Mom?  A QFC?

You couldn’t have picked someplace a little more homey like, say, Martha Stewart Living or something like that?  You could have at least brushed me first!  I must look a mess.  Who’s going to adopt me now?  I’m old.  Unkempt.  Mildly overweight.  Socially awkward.  Oh god Mom, WHYYYYYY?  WHYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!

Wait, someone’s coming.  Maybe it’s her.  Maybe it’s Mom, coming back to me.  Why won’t my neck stretch any higher?  God, my neck isn’t tall enough?  Could be Mom, no, it looks more like a man, but Mom has short hair, no, that’s definitely a man.  Wait, it could be mom.  Taller but, almost short enough, but just too far away to tell…no, no, it’s not her.  I see a beard.  Well shiznit.  All this waiting around for Mom is just wearing me out!  I’m just gonna lie down here on the sidewalk and take a little snooze.

5 minutes Later…

I heard a noise!  Oh gosh it’s been hours and hours and hours at least!  I’m dying here by the grocery store!  I’m starving!  I’m parched!  I feel like the Good Samaritan.  I mean, what if I were Jesus, you people?  What if I were JESUS!  People keep walking by, but they’re not helping me, and they’re definitely NOT my MOM!

Wait.  I see a new group starting to walk over the hill.  I’m craning my neck to see.  I see two people, with a little one being carried on top.  Boy, that really looks like fun!  None of them are Mom.  But wait!  I might see Mom behind them, in the middle; behind them.

I arose and my body tensed in alert.  I couldn’t even help it, because just to see Mom’s face, even after her abandoning me all of these hours all alone, tied up around a piece of metal at the QFC parking lot, forgetting all about me; I just love that woman with all of my heart and soul and my whole, entire, 9 year old dog body broke out in a smile.  My tail was wagging, my head was shaking, my feet were dancing.  It was revival breaking out all up in the grocery store parking lot!

The cute little family who were walking in front of my Mom thought that my Welcome Home Mom Dance was all for them and they were all giggling and trying to get out their rectangle-machine-ringy-thingies to take a video of my antics.  Once they realized that my Mom was walking right behind them then they all really had a laugh.  Some other people who were standing near the scene were laughing also.

Mom came running and gave me a hug, because she was overcome with my cuteness.  Human folks broke out in applause.

I’m not kidding.

What can I say?

I mean, other than…

F#*% YOU KITTEN and your CUTENESS!!!

You didn’t even get to go for the most awesome walk ever with Mom, so THERE!

Living Legend Diva.

Last night, Rea and I went to see Loretta Lynn perform at Emerald Queen Casino in Tacoma, WA.  After being rightfully introduced as the “Queen of Country Music”, Loretta waltzed onto the stage in a sparkly pink ballgown, complete with puffed sleeves and a flowing silk skirt, and proceeded to get (what I like to call) her “Living Legend Diva” on…

Fans:  “We love you Loretta!!!”

Loretta:  “Aww babies, I love y’all too.  Now what’cha want me to sing to y’all?  Holler ’em out now…”

Fans:  “Honky Tonk Girl!!”

Loretta:  “Nah, ah don’t even like that song!”

Fans:  “Coal Miner’s Daughter!!”

Loretta:  “Ah don’t like that song neither.  Well, I guess I’d better sing something, since that’s what y’all want me to do.  Ah wrote this song while ah was sittin’ on the toilet…”

After Loretta sang her first song “You’re Lookin’ at Country” she said that she was “parched” and needed “somethin’ to wet my whistle” so one of the men in her band handed her a bottle of water.

Loretta took a long drink and handed it back to him, “Here, now ya put that somewhere ah can grab it when I need it.”

The man put the bottle on the floor next to her feet.

Loretta looked at him like he was crazy:  “Ah said for you to put that thing somewhere ah can grab it!  I ain’t bendin’ over now.  Do y’all know how old ah am?!”  The crowd laughed.

The man grabbed a chair, put it next to Loretta, and then set the water on top of it.

Loretta:  “See there, that’s much better.  We ain’t tryin’ to make things pretty up here on the stage anyhow.  We need things to be accessible!  Alright now.  What’cha wanna hear now?  Holler ’em out…”

Fans:  “You Ain’t Woman Enough!”

Loretta:  “Ah don’t like that song.  Do y’all know how sick I am of singing my own songs?  I’ve been singin’ em for so long now, I’m just darned sick of ’em!”

Fan:  “These Boots are Made for Walkin’!!”

Loretta:  “What the hell?  That ain’t even one of my songs!”  She looked around at her band and said, “Who sings that song?”

Band:  “Nancy Sinatra.”

Loretta:  “Am I Nancy Sinatra?”

Band:  “No Ma’am…”

Loretta:  “Well then I ain’t singin’ that song neither!”

The crowd continued to holler out songs, until Loretta announced, “Alright, I’ll sing one of my songs now.  Hit it boys…”

About halfway through the song, Loretta made the Universal sign for slitting one’s throat, and the band stopped playing immediately.

Loretta:  “Bobby…”

The keyboard player piped up, “Yes Ma’am?”

Loretta:  “Ya started that song out too high, didn’t ya Bobby…?”

Bobby:  “Yes Ma’am.”

Loretta sighed:  “Well, that song’s ruined.  Let’s play another one now…”

Loretta sang through several of her most popular hits, and her voice is still as strong and as beautiful as ever.  After a while she moved her water, sat in the chair, and said, “Alright boys, y’all come up here and sing a bit.  I’ma gettin’ tuckered out!”

The band kind of looked at each other.  Since they weren’t moving fast enough, Loretta called out, “Come up here and sing now so I can take a break!  You there!  The one with the HAIR!”  The crowd laughed because it was so obvious which one of the men that she was referring to.  Her lead guitarist looked like a missing member of ZZ Top or the Oak Ridge Boys with his long, flowing, luxurious grey hair and perfectly manicured black goatee.

The band sang a few songs, and during their last song, Loretta was clearly trying to get one of the guy’s attention.  Since he wasn’t hearing her, she started to hit him in the leg with her microphone.  When he finally looked at her, she just held up her arms to him so that he could lift her up off of her chair.

Loretta dusted herself off:  “See that gentleman who just lifted me up y’all?  He played lead guitar for Conway Twitty and now he plays steel guitar for Yours Truly!”

The crowd cheered and one of the other men in the band said, “Are you going to tell the rest of that story Loretta?”

Loretta:  “Did I mention that he played for Conway Twitty?”

Band:  “Yes Ma’am.”

Loretta:  “And now he plays for me?”

Band:  “Yes Ma’am.”

Loretta:  “Well that about covers it then.  Alright, now that I’m back on my feet, ah guess I could sing another song or two…”

Loretta sang a hilarious song that I hadn’t heard before called, “The Pill”.

The chorus goes:  This old maternity dress I’ve got is goin in the garbage
The clothes I’m wearing from now on won’t take up so much yardage
Miniskirts, hotpants, and a few little fancy frills
Yeah I’m making up for all those years since I’ve got the pill…

When the song was over, Loretta announced to her band, “Well ah guess we’d better not be singin’ that song when we cross over into Canada tomorrow.  If them border agents found out we had pills in our tour bus, there’d be hell to pay!”

The next song was entirely inappropriate to be singing these days at all, least of all at a Tribal-owned Casino, but this is another one of the benefits of being Loretta Lynn/Living Legend Diva…

Your Squaw is on the Warpath:

Well your pet name for me is Squaw
When you come home a drinkin’ and can barely crawl
And all that lovin’ on me won’t make things right

Well you’re leavin’ me at home to keep the tee pee clean
A-six papooses to break and wean
Well, your Squaw is on the warpath tonight

Well I found out, a-big brave chief
The game you were huntin’ for ain’t beef
Get offa my huntin’ grounds and get outta my sight

Of course she ended the night with “Coal Miner’s Daughter” to everyone’s delight.  As soon as the song ended, she took a quick bow and began making her way off the stage.  The lead guitarist in the band said, “Come on out here Loretta, and give the audience one more bow!”  Loretta stopped in her tracks, turned around and gave him a look that about scared the pants off of him, and then continued walking off of the stage.

Don’t Y’all know that Loretta is 81 years old and she’s the Queen of Country Music!  Be happy that you got to witness one bow that you can tell your grand-babies about!

Best.  Night.  Ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loretta Lynn.

Me:   “I bought us tickets to see Loretta Lynn in October at the Emerald Queen Casino!  Now we can brag to our grand-kids someday that we saw Loretta Lynn in real life!!”

Rea:  “Yeah, so you can hear them say ‘who is Loretta Lynn?'”

Me:  “Any grand-kid of mine is going to know who Loretta Lynn is; I can guarantee you that much.”

A Naked Accident.

Excerpt from Anna McPartlin‘s brilliant novel entitled:  “Pack Up the Moon”:

——————————————-

I tried the door.  It was locked.

“Anne!”  I called out.

“Em!” a small voice called out from behind the door.

“Anne, let me in!”

“I can’t!” she cried.

“Why not?” I asked, looking at the two others behind me.

“I’ve pulled my back out!  I can’t move.”

I pushed at the door.

“Stop!” she cried out, “I’m naked!”

“Jesus,” mumbled the caretaker.  I guess he was expecting a quiet night and a naked, injured woman certainly wasn’t on his “to do” list.

“Calm down, love.  We have the caretaker.  He’ll take care of the door,” Doreen said while gesturing to the caretaker.

“Doreen?” Anne whined.

“Yes, it’s me, love.  Everything will be fine.”

“I’m naked,” Anne reminded us.

“It will be fine.  I’ll cover his — what’s your name?”  She looked at the caretaker.

“Jim.”

“I’ll cover Jim’s eyes when he removes the door.”

Jim looked nervous.  I could hear Anne mumbling something about God.  Jim disappeared to find his tools.  Doreen and I kept Anne talking.  It appears that she hadn’t eaten all day and the likelihood was that she had fainted in the shower.  One minute she was standing under hot water, the next she woke up on the floor unable to move.  I tried to calm her, but she wasn’t having any of it and I could understand:  an accident is bad enough; a naked accident was like pouring salt into the wound.

Doreen remained upbeat.  “Sure it isn’t something you can tell your grandkids?”  She was smiling at me, sure that her words would bring comfort, but I knew better and when Anne started to cry so did she.

Jim returned and began unscrewing the hinges.

“Why don’t you just kick it down,” I asked.

“You want me to kick down a solid mahogany door?”  His voice was laced with the smallest hint of sarcasm.

“Well, yeah,” I replied.

Anne screamed that he was not to kick down the door.  She did not need a door landing on top of her or indeed a handyman on top of a door landing on her.  Doreen reminded her to be calm.  With only one hinge to go I insisted on taking over.  He complied a little too willingly and I wondered if he was gay.  With the last hinge removed, I alerted my naked friend that I was about to enter.

“Wait!” she screamed.

We all stood motionless.

“Jim?” she called out.

“Yeah?” he said hesitantly.

“You can go now.  Thanks for your help,” she said from the floor.

“Right then,” he smiled and almost ran out the door.

Doreen sighed.  “Men.  Bloody useless.”

I pulled the door over and saw poor Anne arse up and facedown.

“You could park a bike,” Doreen laughed.

She was right.  I had expected Anne to be lying flat, not bent over and on her knees.  It was a bloody awkward position and I wondered how she’d managed it.

“Yes, thank you, Doreen,” Anne noted, not amused.

I covered her with a bath towel and then followed Doreen’s instructions and we lifted her to her feet.  She was still bent forward and Doreen worried that it was a slipped disc.

————————————

You’ll have to find the book to read the rest!  It’s been a long time since a book has made me laugh hysterically.  I can’t believe that they haven’t turned this into a movie yet!  It’s like Bridget Jones Diary meets Nicolas Sparks, with more than a little hilarious raunchiness added in.  What more can you ask for in a good read??