Thursday, October 31, 2013



This has to be one of my most favorite Halloween costumes from my childhood! Yep- me and some of my Barrelassin' cousins were Giant Kooky Spooks. I don't know what  a Kooky Spook is- but it was fantastic!. I can still remember the smell of the face paint and the blow up head. I know I wasn't more than five years old and it's still the costume that stands out in my mind the most.

My little Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and Princess! This is one of my favorite Halloween costumes that my kids wore. They would've never settled for a blowup  head! They're almost grown now and it's all about hanging out with friends. I noticed I didn't get invited to hang out or cruise town with any of them tonight. This is proof that they once loved their mother ;)

This is my silly Pimp. My kids have a mind of their own. Let's just say I should be thankful that he's far too busy with his homies to be reading this right now. 
Yes- my Barrelassin' son went as White Trash for Halloween one year. If you tell me you want to be "white trash" for Halloween- I will buy you a trash can and pile trash around you. I'm a good mommy.
My very own Halloween Asian girl. I'm so glad we got a good picture before her eyelashes fell off and her chopsticks stopped cooperating in her hair. She would never do this now,so this is how I get even. ;)

Who says Unicorns aren't real? I've always know that my Barrelassin' hubby was magical. 
This was a fun Halloween at my mom's house. She is not only a Good Witch- she's a great Witch! My Barrelassin' sister is the cutie next to me, the Cowgirl. As far as the two fingers photo bombing the photo, I can't give them credit, because I don't know who they are- but they're rockin' it!

Trick or Treat, Barrelassers- be safe, enjoy :)

Tuesday, October 29, 2013


When my husband recently suggested to our twenty year old son that he may actually be digressing, I thought it sounded silly. He has met with The National Guard recently and has his ASVAB scheduled, and is looking into college through the Military. But this, could be a clue.

I'm smack-dab in the middle of re-arranging  some things in the house and I thought I would take a look at my son's desk.

 Clue #1) The desk is sitting in the middle of his room and used to pile clothes on. I told my son I wanted to look at it to see if I got an excited feeling when I looked at it. If so, I may want to use it. If not...I would leave it. After I looked at it, my son brought up something he had discussed with me awhile back.

 Clue #2) Not so long ago he told me that pretty soon he plans to turn his room into a construction zone and not let anyone else in to see until his project was complete.

 Clue #3) His project could not be built anywhere else and brought into the room- it was too big and had to be built inside the room.

Clue #4) He never started the project.

 Today he decided to indulge me with all of the details surrounding his "one upon a time project." He told me that he had originally planned to build a platform for his King Size bed. He wanted to build it about five feet high. Underneath the bed would be all the free space he needed for other things he wanted for his room. Also- there would be a curtain to open and close so that no one could see this "free space" underneath the bed. It was then that I put all the clues together and said to my son, "so, you want to build a fort?" He tried to explain why it wasn't a fort, but trust me, it had all the makings of a fort.

Now I have it all figured out. My son isn't joining the Military for a good job and college. My son is joining the Military because they build cooler forts.

 Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Monday, October 28, 2013


Once upon a time, in a land far, far away,(by "far away" I mean about about twenty two years ago, which would make me seventeen years old) my Barrelassin' cousin and I were mechanics (by "mechanics" I mean "no we were not.") We were definitely not mechanics, but that would've been cool. In fact, it would've been great considering the amount of time we spent under the hood of a car.

My Barrelassin' aunt left town with her husband for a very lengthy road trip, and her two daughters stayed behind with me and Momma. We had full use of their vehicle while they were away, a choice they probably weren't  too happy with upon their return home, but the damage was done- no turning back.

I can't tell you a big long story about what happened to this car in the first place, besides the fact that it turned into our traveling closet; we had clothes for every occasion covering the backseat of this car. We were never without what we needed to keep us rollin'. We barrelassed all over town in that car. Anyway- at some point the car needed repairs and our two dollars were not going to be enough to take care of the problems. Lucky for us we didn't need to do anything. There was the other daughter, and she had a boyfriend who knew a thing or two about cars and was more than willing to repair the car for us. Don't ask me what he did, I do not know the answer. I only know that whatever he did turned us into mech-ani-acs.

This is a play by play of what it took for us to leave the driveway in the car.

Lift the hood
Take two spliced wires and connect them to one another. At this point we would hear the fan.
Close the hood- start the car.

This was during daylight hours. When it would start to get dark, we would pull over somewhere and lift the hood and connect another set of spliced wires. This would make the headlights work. Now- the catch to the whole thing was that, the second set of wires- the ones that made the lights work, had to be connected in order for the radio to work. So if we wanted to listen to the radio we had to drive around in broad daylight with the lights on (way before daytime running lights where lights were always on) and every person we passed would flash their lights at us to let us know our "headlights were literally...on." The even bigger problem was that the lights only worked on bright. So, not only did people flash at us all day, now we were cruising town with everyone flashing their lights at us, because we were now bright-lighting them. Anytime we parked the car, we had to lift the hood, disconnect all the Frankenstein wires and go about our business. It was a vicious circle.

After a few encounters with guys approaching us to see if we needed help, we quickly learned to use this to our advantage. We were not dummies. Not most of the time anyway. When we saw the attention it brought every time we raised the hood of that car, it became a tool. A tool we used to meet guys we wanted to meet. We would cruise around town, wherever the cute guys were and wherever they were turning around or hanging out, is where we would drive the car to and lift the hood and try to look as confused as possible. "What in the world is wrong with our car? What could be going wrong here?" Worked like a charm- EVERY SINGLE TIME!

We were experts! We knew exactly what guys we wanted to help us and precisely where to park that car, and the precise moment to park it there to get their attention. The real problem was that none of them ever had a clue what was wrong or what to do. That was a good stall that gave us time for the perfect amount of conversation and time for plenty of hair-flipping moments. The best part was the moment we knew we no longer wanted to talk to some of the guys- we would instantly look like a genius, declaring, "I think I will put these two wires together, and then these two and see what happens" and the car would start, we'd say a quick "thanks for your concern" and speed off to "fake break down" in front of some other guys that we deemed a better choice. The downside...some guys spent the whole time actually mystified trying to figure out what was wrong with the car and left no time for small talk with us, and even if we wanted to talk to the chosen ones, there came a time where we had to become mechanics in a nonchalant way and fix the car ourselves, leaving a lot of guys scratching their heads and probably feeling like fools.

These memories are so funny to me, but when I think of them, I have to wonder...did we have a "bright idea" or did the two of us have a couple of "loose wires?"

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, October 26, 2013


Have yourself a merry little No, really- I mean it, NOW, because Christmas is waiting and it's not being patient.

I'm hearing about and seeing a lot of Halloween and Christmas decorations everywhere at the same time. I've seen some complaints about it. Where do I stand on this topic? Hmm- well, I don't really care all that much. Halloween is really just a gateway drug to a Turkey and a Ham for me. I can buy candy all year long, so I'm really not worried that it's going anywhere. More and more the average person looks like they're dressed for Halloween on a daily basis, and pairing that with the fact that I'm too scared to go around scared all month, takes the actual "problem" off the table for me. It is, however, the only day acceptable to go door to door and expect complete strangers to give you candy, but I've covered all that in an earlier post and I personally, haven't tricked the hell out of anyone in a long time , so maybe I'll switch it up a little this year. BEWARE!!! There- that's my Halloween spooky voice to kick things off.

In all seriousness, I love Christmas decorations so I wouldn't be at all opposed to the stores selling them all year long. And I'm not talking about those Christmas only stores where a glass ball with a hook costs more than the tree I plan to hang it from. Perhaps Walmart could have a Christmas section for the entire year. I do agree that it looks quite odd and ridiculous to have an inflatable Santa in one yard with a giant pumpkin in the yard next door. It's not the store's fault. Probably as a courtesy, they begin the sale of Christmas items so the consumer can get a head start on the most expensive holiday. I would guess they didn't take into consideration the dumb-asses who can't come together and decide on an appropriate time to coordinate the holidays and it's decorations. The transition from the Orange Fall, the candy bar and a Turkey to the Red & White Winter and a tree in your house is not an easy one for some people.

I believe it was an unwritten rule at one time that Thanksgiving, was the appropriate time to start the Winter and Christmas decorating, but I suppose since it's not even Halloween day yet and I'm freezing my rear end off, it could pass for Winter. It doesn't really matter anyway- I have one strand of icicle lights still hanging from my house and one upper portion of a window covered in fake snow leftover from last Christmas- I guess I jumped the gun on Christmas ten months ago.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Friday, October 25, 2013


My husband is officially home after the meeting/conference over the last week and I can finally pull my head out from under the covers. My butt and feet temperature are returning to normal and my children's attempts to kill me or drive me to the brink of insanity, probably so that they could keep the car as late as they want until my husband returned- have failed. I survived hell week.

My daughter has announced that she is, in fact, dating a senior, but that's a fairly easy fix. Seniors have cars and like to go places. Freshmen do not have cars and aren't allowed to ride in cars with boys, so this should all work itself out as far as I'm concerned.

My oldest son took the car to a meeting with The National Guard and once again started talking responsibly. He told me I was lucky that he's interested in The National Guard, because now that means he can't start using steroids- so basically, he threw me a bone, thanks kiddo!

My younger son hasn't caused a single problem all week and to honest, I thought he would be the one, but he switched it up on me and was the most responsible person in our home this week. I feel as though he picked up on my malfunctioning brain due to his brother and sister and he, too, threw me a bone- and that's something to be very thankful for!!

Even the dog tried to act up while my husband was gone, but he's all cool now that daddy is home. However, I'm pretty sure I heard him whispering "mommy's crazy" into my husband's ear, but maybe I'm just being paranoid and delusional- he could have been saying something else I suppose.

Now to get things back on track- my daughter is face painting at the Halloween carnival this evening and I think we'll go hang around and act like a normal family, like daddy-o was never gone.

Now just one thing I'm mulling over today. A friend of mine asked me to come and hold her hand this evening while she gets her first tattoo. I had to decline due to the carnival, but told her I would be there in spirit, which has left me pondering- what the hell does that even mean? I'm not going to be there; she's not going to feel like I'm there or pretend that I'm there, and I'm certainly not going to pretend that I'm there, so what the hell good does it do her if I tell her I will be there in spirit? The last time I heard, spirits were what are known as ghosts. Am I haunting my friend this evening? And would anyone actually want someone's spirit with them while they had a tattoo needle grinding into their back? I'm pretty sure my dear friend would rather I kept my spirit- ass away from her while she gets inked so therefore, I am doing her a huge favor.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Monday, October 21, 2013


Day two of my husband being away for business has shaped itself right into, well, let's just say...STICK A FORK IN MY EYE! Today, my oldest son was the first one to catch a ride on the crazy train and, instead of allowing me to smile and wave as he went- he tied me to the side of the train and drug me along the side as he went on and on about how he should probably start taking steroids, because- he's twenty years old and has no desire to look fifteen for the rest of his life. HA! Tell me that shit when you're forty and you look forty, kiddo!

He does this sometimes. It starts off completely innocent and even went as far today to  laugh and tell me he mostly does it to get me all worked up and to make me mad. But then...he latches on when I try to tell him how stupid that would be and how dangerous it is- he then tries to explain to me how, although he's not actually planning to do steroids, I have no idea what I'm talking about. What sort proof do I have that steroids have ever actually been linked to someone ending up dead or with any kind of health problems?

His theory is that nobody ever hears anything bad about steroids until someone does something bad and happens to be using steroids, so everyone blames the actions on steroid use. He also informed me, quite confidently that, "this is not 1902 where people are just mindlessly putting stuff into their bodies without knowing the proper way to use it." I must say, I instantly agreed with him. He's right about one thing. It's not 1902, and as a mother, I had to remind him that it is, in fact, 2013, where people are eating bath salts, and seem to be okay with mindlessly putting that into their bodies.

Once my headache set in good, I dropped him off with his brother to play basketball while I took my daughter to get that makeup she so desperately needed and to get some groceries. Just in case you can't sense my level of frustration, let me give you a list of what I ended up with...keep in mind, I wasn't there to grab a couple of things- I needed serious groceries.

Not counting my daughter's makeup...

Laundry detergent
Dish Soap
Shampoo and Conditioner
Stain Remover
1 bag of Chicken Nuggets
1 box of Ramen Noodles
1 can of Chicken Noodle Soup
4 Hot Pockets
8 baby red potatoes
1 box of waffles
2 bottles of Dr. Pepper (the real kind-not the usual, Dr. Topper)

If the items in the bag were any indication- we'd be having some sort of soap for dinner. My brain hurt so bad that I had no clue what I wanted to buy. All the time I was supposed to be going over it in my head was already spent discussing steroids. It reminded me of when we first got into the car and as my son grabbed the radio dial I said, "please, just wait, give me a moment." He shot back with, "what's wrong with you that you can't turn on the radio as soon as we get into the car anyway? What is so important on your mind that you can't hear music?" I tried explaining that what I was thinking was:

Where in the hell is the dog? Why has he been gone so long and what will happen to him if I leave without finding him and the little screwball has to stay outside until we return?
What do I need from the grocery store?
Do I have my phone?
Where is my purse? Oh good there it is; did I put my money in there before I carried it out of the house?
Is the guy delivering gravel to our driveway still going to show up today?
If I leave our tiny dog out, and the gravel guy shows up- will he see him and not run him over with the truck?
When is my husband coming home?
Come to think of it, every time he leaves without me, a dog either runs away or gets hit by a car. We only have one dog this time, no spare- so this can't be happening.
What is that thumping? For the love of GOD, PLEASE turn that radio off for one solid minute while I clear my head!!!

That's what's wrong with me. That's what I'm thinking, all at once. And if that's not enough- I'm about to leave two boys together in a public place on a basketball court, that once called the police on each other over a single chicken nugget before I could get home from work after the school bus had dropped them off. Yes- it was a long time ago, yes- they were a lot younger then; but you don't forget that shit easy. It's right there with you as you drive away from them.

Time for bed- my daughter wants me to bring her a towel...right this minute, and thinks I should know that her frog is going to need more water in it's tank. My youngest son wants my daughter to get out of the bathroom so he can shower. My husband is on the phone wanting to speak with me and I don't know what room my oldest son disappeared to, but I know that stupid PS3 is on in the living room unattended, playing the same tune over and over and over!

Oh yeah, and I had a can of Ravioli for breakfast and a snack wrap for lunch/dinner- but clearly, I only think of myself. My daughter just came in here and told me how SHE'S running on three hours of sleep, and I think she was wanting sympathy from me. I can't tell anymore??

These are grown children, people!! And you thought toddlers were assholes...

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)


Sunday, October 20, 2013


Well this week started off all wrong. It started yesterday for me, which is a pretty bad sign considering yesterday was technically still a part of last week.

My husband is away on business. Not very far from home, thankfully, but still...away. I knew this wasn't going to be good for my health because, even though I know I am perfectly capable of holding down the fort- somewhere in the back of my mind I've convinced myself that I will not be able to function without him, which really translates into I'm just a big baby who knows how much she will miss her husband.  Now, the worst part is...he's actually still in the same town, but the almost week long meeting requires the company to stay at the same place and attend the activities planned. Oh wait, that's not the worst part at all...

My Barrelassin' husband had not even been home from work yesterday to pack his bag before my daughter, a high school freshman, was already trying to go on  a date with a senior football player. Just in case my memory of that age had failed me, I reminded myself that my youngest son IS a high school senior football player and his sole focus is not the well being of freshman girls, except for maybe the one he's dating, talk about ironic, and my daughter has no business being left in the hands of such young men. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this young man- I'm saying that boys his age don't typically tend to want to date a girl for her brains. In turn, this also means that he knows how to pick them, since she is currently displaying herself as someone who has completely lost her mind.

I had barely finished out the evening sending my husband off and feeling sorry for myself- moping around while trying to explain to her why dating a senior was unacceptable to me, when she messaged me from her bedroom, through social media and, very enthusiastically, said to me, "Let's get my bellybutton pierced!!" I may be way off base here, but I swear it feels a lot like my daughter was trying to see if she could give me a stroke before midnight. At this point, I'd rather turn back into a pumpkin-just carve a smile on my face and leave me be. And please don't do a hack job on me.

If the first evening was any indication to where the rest of this week is headed, I'm in big trouble. Right now we're aimed straight for the gutter, but if I can manage to stay strong, without having a stroke, I could get this train back on the right track. Even my oldest son asked my daughter what the heck happened to her at school yesterday. Then she pulled the smart card and reminded him that it was Saturday. Everything went foggy for only a second before I found a way to turn it around and use it against her. Ignoring the fact that my son didn't even know what day of the week it was, I found an "I'm smarter card" down deep within me and suggested that with all of her poor judgement yesterday- we should consider sending her to school on Saturdays as well. I can work on my son's day and time management next week, right now I have to focus on being Super Mom to a daughter who's got a pocket full of Kryptonite and is clearly not afraid to use it.

Today I feel like I have a massive hangover and I have absolutely no weird cellphone pictures or empty bottles to show for it. I'm creeping around my daughter trying not to make eye contact today, in case she really is trying to kill me. We've made it to early afternoon and she hasn't stolen my car or anything, but I'm bracing myself for her to announce that she's a pregnant stripper who ran away to live the life of her dreams in Vegas and now needs bail money and a plane ticket home since it didn't work out, by the end of the week. She just came in here and spoke to me directly- I was a little scared at first, but it tuns out all she wants is to go shopping for all new makeup. No doubt about it- she must want to join the circus.

And as far as my senior son dating a freshman girl- I'm not her parent. As far as I know their outings together have been to church.Wait a this Karma catching up to me so I can walk a mile in her parents' shoes? Oh man, please pray for my well-being and pray that my husband returns with my other glass slipper, and for the love of GOD...please let it fit!

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, October 19, 2013


Well-I've gone and done it now. I dusted the coffee table and end table. Let the sneezing begin. I don't know why I'm surprised; well, I'm not really, it's just that you'd think by now I'd have a plan in place. Like maybe...moving every time the house has to be dusted, or at least leaving the house until a team of dusters has come in and made it a dust-free home. It's not even like I swept; I was too afraid of the wrath of the dust-mite.

It never fails and it's a vicious circle. If I don't dust or sweep, well then... I'm rewarded with itchy, watery eyes, ears, nose and throat- and a sneezing fit that can be compared to ninja seizures 2.5 seconds apart. Since that's not a real thing, let me paint a picture for you: I go walking through the house, minding my own business and everything is perfectly normal. Then, in the blink of an eye, actually many blinks of both eyes, because it's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open, I begin sneezing uncontrollably. My eyes begin to swell, itch and water, tears begin streaming down my face- I'm not sad and crying- I'm hanging on by a thread- my ears start to itch and my throat itches so bad that I have to scratch it by making a noise that most people would liken to the sound of, as my barrelassin' husband puts it, "hocking a loogy" But I'm not "hocking a loogy" I'm making a noise that makes a vibration, that in turn, eases the itching sensation in the back of my throat. It helps to hold Q-Tips in my ears at the same time.

If I do dust or sweep- all of the above happens exactly the same. I've had this problem for my entire life that I can recall. I thought I had a cold for all of my childhood- I never heard the word allergies until I was twelve years old and my eyes swelled up so bad I looked scary. My barrelassin' momma got up in the middle of the night and took me on what was the first of our many, many trips to the Emergency Room due to allergies. That was the first time I recall anyone mentioning allergies to me, so it's safe to say I wasn't one of those stereotypical kids with an inhaler for her allergies-that came much later; I was a kid that always had a cold.

It doesn't help that three of the top ten cities with the worst pollen and allergies for the fall season 2013 are all in Tennessee, two of them within an hour and two hours from me. And as luck would have it, I've read reports that this is expected to persist for at least the next decade. My town didn't make the top one hundred, but apparently it doesn't have to be the worst- I just have to be present in a house, and besides, I've managed to make sure I visited or driven through at least nine of the those top one hundred cities this year already and have plans to visit or drive through several of the other ones in the future. I'm self destructive that way. A rebel, if you will.

If you got the feeling you were losing me at any point during reading this, it's because you did. None of this is important to me anymore- I've been trying to write it all day long, since I actually did that dusting hours ago. Don't get me wrong, my allergies are really flaring up right now, but I've spent the better part of the day trying to explain to my daughter why I do not believe Freshman girls should date Senior boys. And not just why I disagree with it, but why over my dead body will I allow this. Fortunately for her, I will have to dust again soon- if I'm not the first person ever to die tonight due to complications from itchy eyes and throat syndrome, so she may get that date sooner than she thinks. I hope I won the lottery. I'm definitely going to need a maid and I'd much rather have to explain to my daughter why boys want to date her for her Momma's money.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Friday, October 18, 2013


Is there a such thing as concert etiquette? And if so- what are the ground rules? If I were to try and answer this question giving my opinion, I would have to say things like, standing on your seat in front of those behind you wouldn't be the kindest thing to do. I think invading someone's space, their personal bubble should only be broken if there is an invitation- it may be an unspoken invitation, but one can usually tell if everyone is on the same page and in it together. The lines and boundaries are typically drawn right up front, and by all means, should be respected.

But what about talking? Is talking new on the list or it strictly reserved for those who have a stick up their ass and I'm just now, after years of concert experiences, finally getting a good taste of what it's like to have the one complete jackass, out of all the seats in the entire Bridgestone Arena, residing in my section? I freely admit- I am a talker; me and talking go way back. It's on my list of my most favorite things to do; I like to talk so much and share my opinions that I have to have a blog just in case there's no one around to listen. But, in my defense, we were at a rock concert- not the freaking Opera! And it wasn't like I was talking directly to the noise police- I was speaking to one of the three other people in the group that I was attending the show with.

I was unaware that the noise patrol officer had purchased a seat one row up behind us, and imagine my surprise when I found out. I mean- you wouldn't ordinarily commit a crime knowing the authorities were looking- I'm no fool, so it was a huge shock to me when one of the Barrelassers with me was talking about her favorite Don Henely song; I should mention we were at The Eagles concert in Nashville, Tn.- when I began to explain  how the song she was referring to, Leather and Lace, by Don Henely and Stevie Nicks, was the song my Barrelassin' husband and I had played in our wedding ceremony as the wedding party walked down the aisle. Apparently, this was more than the man with the stick up his ass, I mean the noise police, or whatever the technical term for him is; jackass I guess, could handle, and he actually leaned over from above us, placed his hand on my shoulder or our shoulders I'm not sure, and actually asked if we would keep it down, stating that "we" meaning himself and whoever else he thought he was at the Opera with, didn't really need or care to hear about it.

Well, if there's one thing I do know for sure- it's that the quickest way to get me to do something is to rudely tell me not to.  And I must say, I don't know what you would call my dis-function, clinically speaking, but I have no real problem telling people what's on my mind or what I think, but at the same time I almost never, ever say the first thing that comes to mind, and somehow what I'm thinking is not what actually comes out of my mouth, unless I am truly angered or offended by what someone has said to me- and if asked for an opinion I will freely give it in as nice a way as I know how. I do not believe for one second that everyone has to agree with everything someone says for a conversation to flow smoothly and I certainly don't always tell people what they want to hear. I am objective and open despite what some people may think, but the only people who think otherwise are definitely the people who didn't hear what they wanted to hear from me.

Anyway- for a single moment, I think I may have gone into shock, which is why I didn't instantly respond with something more along the lines of, " Or... you could kiss my ass and sit back down in your seat." Or perhaps spice it up a little with the ole, " I'll bet now you're kicking yourself for not bringing your hearing-aid with you since you clearly cannot hear the very loud music coming through hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of perfectly good, gigantic speakers over my voice." And I'm a little disappointed in myself for not giving him a good dose of everything special in me by insisting that he hear, for the duration of the concert, every last detail of my wedding day. After a few seconds of de-scrambling what my ears had just heard and a good, clear processing in my brain, I almost couldn't keep my mouth shut. It was a very tough battle between my brain and my mouth- and frankly, I'm convinced that the only reason I didn't take my very first trip to jail was due to the efforts of the Barrelassin' girl with me who, repeatedly took my hand, and told me to let it go- all while making it perfectly clear that she had my back, so if my mouth won over, I at least knew I wasn't knee deep in it alone. Although, we were not alone; both of our husbands were with us and neither of them had any problem hearing the music over our story, because they had no idea what was even going on. It wasn't until I told my husband what the issue was that he looked around, his eyes searching for the man with questionable behavior and so calmly stated, "that man? Cause I'll kick his ass." My husband, fully aware that if I really wanted that man's ass kicked, I would likely already be in a full-blown brawl made his position clear with just a look that says, "my position is ALWAYS... that I will kick your ass if you dis-respect my wife in any way, she can talk as much as she literally, she will only be quiet when she chooses and that's only when she's debating what she wants to tell you next, and you're actually the winner here- unless she actually does want me to kick your ass, and in that case- I'm glad to do it, because I'm harboring a lot of frustration right now. Have I made myself clear?"

This concludes the history of my history with 'The History of The Eagles Tour:2013' and they were fabulous! Definitely check it out if you can.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Tuesday, October 15, 2013


It's no secret that Trick-or- Treating began long before we did it here in America. Without teaching a lesson in the history of trick- or- treating, keeping it short, it was known as souling or guising and people traditionally went door to door asking for money, bread, cheese, butter, eggs, etc. Some history has to with soul cakes and fairies, and some has to do with the exchange for work. Either way- America got a hold of it and stepped it up.

In America, we no longer go door to door and expect money- we call that a Welfare check and we do not have to go anywhere to get it, except for an occasional meeting to be reviewed and basically... mostly be judged and humiliated by people who have enough money to provide for their families - then we get a check in the mail or as I've heard from it's recipients, is now received on a debit card. 

We do not ask for dairy products door to door- we fixed that, too- we have what is known as WIC. WIC is to make certain that pregnant women, infants and children receive the proper amount of dairy and healthy foods during pregnancy and post pregnancy for a certain period of time. 

Both of these programs have their ups and downs and I really have no issue with either one of them. Just because some people take advantage of a system doesn't mean that everyone should be punished or ridiculed and made to suffer when they truly need help. Just like your neighbor doesn't go to jail for tax evasion if you don't file your taxes.

My problem with the whole thing is that I believe the trick-or-treating system in America has failed. It, too, with all of the other programs in trouble right now, needs revamping. For instance, I would like to go door to door this Halloween to get my eggs, cheese, bread, butter and milk. I will dress up if you feel it's important, but I think you should carry my groceries to my car for me, because I'll likely be wearing heels in order to slut it up a bit in hopes of getting name brand products.

I also don't think it would be out of the way for me to go tricking for money, maybe the day after, because let's face it- I'm going to be exhausted after grocery shopping. I also don't recall ever actually tricking someone, or seeing someone tricked who refused to give a treat. I think we need to get a grasp on the term "trick-OR-treat" with emphasis on the "or" and utilize it more often. Somehow in America ,we have taken a tradition that clearly states it's intentions of tricking the hell out of someone who does not participate, and let them off the hook by simply turning off their porch light. Instead- we obediently march only to doors who welcome us and then trick the very people who have done nothing to us. I'm just curious to know what the hell would happen if I grabbed the nose and honked or pulled a quarter from behind the ear of someone who didn't give me a treat on Halloween after I asked for one. 

The entire week of Halloween, we are throwing eggs at people who have to rely  on WIC in order to get enough eggs, and we are wasting very expensive toilet paper to roll houses and cars. From now on, I think we should just use old magazines and newspapers that are stacked up around the house because we don't want to just throw them away- yet we have no idea what to do with them.  This of course would take a lot more time and effort, and eventually, the tradition of rolling would cease. I'm not sure who these kids think they're fooling anyway. I do not know a single teenager who does the toilet paper shopping for the household, and when I see a teen buying such products, just know- I've got my eye on you. 

And lastly- my four lb. dog trick- or- treats every single day. At least twice a day he does a trick,sits, like that's so hard to do, and I give him a treat- he accepts it, takes a leak outside, and lays back down on a pillow and sleeps. Any awake time is spent begging me for another treat. He's really working it. In the event that I do not give him a treat, he accepts my response, pisses in my shoe and pouts. Now the joke is on me and I put two and two together- either our dogs are truly running this country, or at the very least, they are it's true creators- and the only ones who truly understand  Halloween. Now head on over to the column on your right and vote in the trick-or-treating poll!

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Friday, October 11, 2013


They say just before you die, you experience pain. Your head may hurt periodically- you may feel nauseated from something you ate the night before and you may experience some pain in your middle toe. In fact, you may have random aches and pains all over your body- your neck, your shoulders, your knees- just to name a few and you have the lyrics ," there's one in every crowd, that brings the party in us out- Good Time Charlie, with a Harley, whisky bent and hell bound..." stuck in your head. Oh wait, they don't say that- that's not it at all. That's what I feel like with very little sleep on  the day after me and my Barrelassin' Momma spend the evening in a crowded bar, dancing around and cheering along to a Montgomery Gentry concert!

I must have been confused for a moment. I'm suffering from, "I'm not a teenager anymore and I have to be on a football field in a dress this evening for my Barrelassin' son's Senior Night and Homecoming at the high school- and I should'nt stay out until 3 a.m." syndrome. I probably could've skipped the cowboy boots, but then it just would've ruined the outfit. The fact is, there is one in every crowd- and it is usually me. But boy did we ever have fun!
Barrelassin' Mickey with Barrelassin' Momma!

Barrelassin' with Eddie Montgomery!

Barrelassin' with Brent Cobb!

We did stay out a little too late- we do know better, but we got to meet Eddie Montgomery, Brent Cobb and some really nice people on their staff. Thanks for the fun, but it's back to being Mommy and its time to go. I'm gone!
Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Tuesday, October 8, 2013


 I am a NeNe Leakes bride. NeNe Leakes and Kim Zolciak- Biermann started off as friends and then fought their way to two separate spin-off shows, one for each. Those heads are not just another wig-rack. Don't get it twisted! And believe me- neither of them had to suffer a Poke'mon wedding. And I have a few people I'd like to tell off from time to time- where's my camera crew? Call me when you're ready- Bloop!


I have read more "How To" articles over the last week and my brain has basically turned to mush. "How do I get more traffic to my blog?" "How to advertise on your blog." "How do I start a blog?" "How to make money by blogging." "How to write a pitch letter to potential advertisers."

How to BLAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I can barely stand it. How about I turn my head inside out and freaking explode?! Everyone claims to have all the answers, and everyone has different answers. I, personally, still don't have any answers except that I understand less than I did when I chose to do all this reading. "What's your niche?" they say, "find your target audience, who is your target audience?" My niche is that I like to freaking talk! I am constantly thinking, and whether or not anyone is actually reading what I have to say, I like to feel like I've just shared what I was thinking with someone other than myself. So just as soon as I'm done talking to myself, I grab the laptop and type it out and send it out into the Universe.

As far as I can gather, in order to be a blogger, or advertise on your blog, you will need a team of specialists to keep up with your blog for you. Nobody actually says that, but who in the hell can blog while taking care of all these details? Want traffic to your blog? Join fifty more blogs, keep up with them, read them, follow them, comment on them, and maybe someone will be nice enough to follow back or tell someone else about your blog. How will I ever have the time to blog if I am reading everyone else's blog?

I do read a couple of blogs, but they are not mercy readings. I am not there to market my blog, I am there because something at some point sucked me in. How many networks am I supposed to join to market myself? I can't even keep up. Maybe, unbeknownst to me, nobody really wants to hear my every thought. Now there's a wake-up call! Maybe I should've just kept a journal :/  Maybe my really will explode and someone will blog about it and it will make for better "content" for them. Maybe if I just use the title, "How to get traffic to your blog" I will triple my traffic for one post. Shaking my damn head.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)


Apparently Katie Couric, Criss Angel, and LL Cool J are not at the forefront of The President's mind today. I've been waiting to see this episode and was so excited to watch it, and found that their faces resemble Barrack Obama's a lot. They looked just like him talking about the Government Shitdown, I mean shutdown! It was remarkable!
 I know these topics are important for our country, but what I don't understand is, why he only seems to discuss them when I want to watch something?
Maybe that never happened and it was all a total mindfreak Criss Angel pulled out of his hat. Either way- I missed almost all of LL Cool J's appearance and I'm a little moody due to such acts by the "Breaking News" that basically only told me what I already know. Nobody is working together and everyone in America is paying for it while Congress has it's little feud. Maybe LL Cool J could "knock them out."  Maybe Criss Angel could work a little magic on them or at least give Congress the "illusion" that we are just as important as they are.

What we need in this country, is a little more Criss Angel and LL Cool J.  Thanks, Katie Couric- you tried.
Enjoy, Barrelassers:)

Sunday, October 6, 2013


Guess what day it is? Hump Daaaay! No really, it was my Barrelassin' hubby's birthday and we were keepin' it real! No big time shit...except some pretty big, actual shit if you looked in the right/wrong direction. He doesn't really like going over the top and I'm always trying to make shit spectacular. Like I'm the freaking party police that the event organizational committee hires to make sure it's a party or great event.

Today, I kept it simple so he would actually have all the fun. But I ended up having just as much fun. He loves animals and all things of nature so while I was searching for things to do that didn't involve a surprise party or one hundred or more people, I came across a deal on Groupon. It was by chance that I found a deal for a Safari type petting zoo that we could drive through and feed the animals from our car. I've seen such videos on YouTube, but we've never been to one.

So...not only did I find the deal on Groupon, but I also happen to participate in Swagbucks. So I used my buy a Groupon gift code, and then bought the deal form Groupon. Got it? Are you keeping up? Then I was able to use my Groupon code at the Circle G Ranch in Strawberry Planis, Tn. to get the two of us in with only buying three buckets of food for the price of $10.00. That was the funniest $10.00 we've spent in years! Zebras, Cows, Water Buffalo, Ostrich, Emus, Goats, Deer, Pigs and all sorts of animals food raped my car!.

We also rode a Camel and pet some animals at the petting zoo at the end of the loop. We had a simple blast. The least amount of money that I've ever spent on a birthday celebration and had more fun that if I had spent hundreds of dollars. We joined my Barrelassin' sister and her Barrelassin' husband for some dinner (wings) and headed home, where my husband tried to eat a small cake he had purchased for himself on the way home. He apparently thought he would make it through the day without birthday cake :( I may have gone cheap this year, but I'm no fool. He got his little cake out of the grocery bag and explained to me and our teenage kids that he should at least eat a piece of cake today- when they retrieved a larger cake from the refrigerator and suggested that he try a piece of the one they had baked themselves for him while he was out having all the fun today :) He really was surprised, and didn't cost a fortune.

It has been a wonderful day- happy birthdy- I love you, Barrelassin' Jay!
Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Friday, October 4, 2013


I swear! PCH is  always screwing with my head! They always have me on the fence somewhere between reality and insanity. Do I open the email and register AGAIN or risk it all and hit the delete button? I mean, I fancy myself a risk taker, but how do I know if "this is the one" that makes me freaking rich? Damn it!


So here we are- I, along with my two besties, barrelassin' Amy and barrelassin' April are turning forty very soon. Amy in November, myself in January and April in February, and we're planning a big celebration together in January! I recently made the decision to stop stressing over the number and embrace it; find a way to look forward to it for my own sanity.

 I've been lucky enough to do many things I've enjoyed throughout my life, but there's a lot I haven't done, and I'm tricking forty. Forty is now working for me! I'm not simply making a bucket list. I'm challenging myself to a bucket list; a bucket list of things to accomplish in my first year of forty. Perhaps I'm not very realistic with the items on my list, but they're certainly not going to happen if I just give up, settle, or simply accept that I will never do these things. I want to make a real effort before it's too late. I would like to avoid looking back later in life with regrets that I cannot do anything about. I hope to accomplish certain things while I'm still young enough to enjoy them. And to get myself warmed up for the challenge, I'm starting now by working on myself a little, to make sure I look great the day of my party! That will be my  pre- forty warm up. Then on to the list.

I am using forty to my advantage from here on out...I hope. So here's hoping, against all hope, that I don't lose hope.

                                                         At forty I will...
1) Fly on a plane for the first time 
2) Visit California for the first time
3) Try Seafood and add some to my diet 
4) Get my mom to Hawaii- her dream vacation 
5) Add a closet to my bedroom  
6) Swim with Dolphins 
7) Finish the laundry room 
8) Read at least two classic novels
9) Be more successful in a career
10) Finish dental work in to order smile
with more confidence :D
11) Sing Happy Birthday out loud with
everyone else instead of lip synchronizing
12) Get more organized with paper
13) Write into Shark Tank with my great
ideas, even though I have no money or
clue how to come up with prototypes
14) Take a class; any class
15) Practice more patience 
16) Pay off a debt
17) Give the kids more space.
Let them at fail at something in order
to learn how to succeed.
18) Volunteer- make a difference
19) Attempt to cook my way through
one of Bethenny Frankel's books
20) Stop and actually smell the roses.
For real. Really smell the roses.
More than once.

Thursday, October 3, 2013


Oh no they didn't! Did they really give me a megaphone as I walked into my son's high school football game? I have the stage now! This is exactly what I need- an audience! Just in case anyone has ever had a hard time hearing me, the problem has been solved. Unfortunately- I really don't know much about football, and the truth is, the only football team that I follow is the one that my son plays on. I don't even know the rules, but I'm not a complete idiot- I clap when our side claps, and now, thanks to my shiny new megaphone, I shout out whatever the guy in front of me is shouting- "That's a live ball, Ref! Are you blind? That was holding, you dumb-ass!" Or on the lighter side when he screamed something, I just grabbed my megaphone and shouted, "Yeah!" to back up what he was saying.

I do however know that once I can see one of our guys has the ball, (I mean let's face it- it takes me half the play to see where the hell the ball is)  I can jump up and cheer for us to run, run, run! I look downright mean in this photo, but truthfully, our team was on top of it this evening and did very well. There were no real problems. I just played around with my new toy.

The real problem is going to happen when basketball season starts. I don't know all the rules in basketball either, but I do have a lot more opinions and emotions when he plays basketball. I get mad at everyone in the room, I hate everyone who isn't my son's biggest fan and I find it very hard to control myself in there and I'm fairly certain that on a recent  trip with my husband and aquaintances, I called certain people involved douchbags- or something quite similar over drinks- several, many drinks. My bad :( The only way I've ever been able to keep my shit together is knowing that my son would never forgive me for causing such a scene at his game- knowing in all truth that most of the people I'm screaming at in basketball aren't paying any attention to me and can't hear me...UNTIL NOW. See you at the basketball games, you f*#&^ers!

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)


Catching up on my 'bethenny' before I go watch my Barrelassin' son play some football! By the way, can I just say first that it makes me a little crazy to type "bethenny" without a capital B. I've struggled with it more than once and usually go with the capital B to keep my head from exploding. That being said- I'm working on the lowercase b since that's the way it's written in the title of the show.

Now that I've got that off my chest, a lady on the show during the Frankel-y speaking segment of the show was talking about her clip on ponytail coming off in a guys hands while dancing at the club, and it reminded me of a situation I had with my Barrelassin' sister and my Barrelassin' bestie!

Let me set the scene for you- my sister was supposed to be driving from Tennessee to New York to visit her then boyfriend. She packed up her bags and headed down the road. An unfortunate sequence of events lead her to throw her hands up and give up on her trip before she even got out of the county. I suppose now I should be calling it fortunate, because it turned into a really good time for us.

I think my Barrelassin' Momma was already irritated that my sister was going to drive that far away from home by herself and had already let her have a good piece of her mind before she left, I think she was irritated by leaving later than she had originally planned, and then to beat it all- she was within miles of the interstate when a dump truck drove by her and flung a rock into her windshield, cracking it in the corner. This sent my sister into a whirl. She called me at work crying, because her entire day was essentially going to hell. She was talking so fast and going off, which was completely  unlike her. She exclaimed, "To hell with this! I'm not going now! I don't even wanna drive that far anymore, but I'm by-hell going somewhere. I have time off work and I'm getting the hell out  of this town!" I listened to her rant and then introduced a solution. "Sooooo, why not wait until me and Barrelassin' Amy get finished working, which won't be long, and let's drive to Nashville, TN. It's only a few hours from home, it's an hour earlier there and....the bars are open until three a.m." She was immediately in!

Somehow, Barrelassin' Amy and me ended up throwing back a few before time to leave and now Barrelassin' sister was driving us to Nashville. We checked into out hotel, changed clothes, grabbed a cab and hit the town wide open! On our first stop, we were sitting at a table drinking, laughing,and listening to the music. We weren't in a place with an actual dance floor but there was a cute, older couple dancing in front of our table. He was holding her, swaying her around- we were thinking what a cute couple.

It was around that time that the man decided to give this lady a whirl and "dip" her. In my mind, this all seemed to happen in slow motion- as did the beer that sprayed out of my mouth once I saw this lady get dipped by this man, facing directly toward us and making eye contact while giving us a huge smile, have her wig fall off of her head and onto the floor. Our first reaction was laughter, but in a situation like that- you have to collect your thoughts and remind yourself that this woman has to wear a wig. We instantly felt sorry for her, after all, she probably has cancer and she and her husband are having a wonderful time twirling around the place.

It wasn't long before we wondered where in the hell her husband went and how she ended up sitting at our table. After we helped her make sure her wig was on straight and not to worry, people probably never even noticed, one of us asked her where her why her husband was hanging out with the rest of the bar and not sitting with her. It was then that she explained to us that he wasn't her husband, she didn't even know that man and he had pretty much made his last appearance when her wig hit the floor. She then proceeded to inform us, without any prodding from us, that she doesn't have cancer or anything- she just likes to get gussied up on the weekends with her wig and lipstick and hit the town. And then, and only then,were we allowed to laugh uncontrollably. Here we were feeling terrible for this woman, having cancer and her husband now ignoring her and now the joke was on us.

If you've never been to Nashville, Tn and saw a wig fall off a woman's head while being slung around dancing- I strongly suggest you try it. I'm sure it happens all the time. I see something equally as funny every time I go!

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Wednesday, October 2, 2013


Yay! It took me a long time to find this on Youtbe. That is actually me, the caller from Tennessee, calling in to talk to Oprah. Yes- little ole Barrelassin me talking to Oprah Winfrey! I was a wreck! But I loved it. I thought I would die. And once I was on the phone with her- all of my planning backfired on me, because once Oprah speaks to you directly, all train of thought goes out the window and the tears show up.

This was definitely one of the highlights of my life. Is that bad? Either way- meeting Oprah in some way has always been on my...well, bucket-list if you'd call it that, and this is probably as close as I'll ever get, and that's okay. I'll take it! It has inspired me to make a list of all the things I want to accomplish once I'm forty, which is coming right up in January! So, here's to hoping I accomplish them all in 2014 and I'll get to work on that list! The year of the big 4-0!
Enjoy, Barrelassers :)


                                               I may not have gotten this part...

But I got this one! That's me on the set of Nashville!


Finally got around to watching 'Bethenny' on DVR today. I love that Jenni Pulos has a rap about poo, but that was just one of the many things the show brought to the forefront of my mind today. Watching, it seemed like I had an opinion on just about EVERYTHING!

First, go, Bethenny for calling out the doctor making comments on your usage of Botox. I don't feel like Botox is something I could do, but that doesn't mean I never will. Of course I will need to make a lot more money to afford such luxuries, but I'm currently on the fence about the Botox usage, so it's okay that I'm too poor to try it out.

Next- I apparently missed the recent story in the news about the family having the police called to Applebee's because they had rowdy children. Get the hell over it. I have seen some mean ass, rotten children, and I have been annoyed by them at times, but when I see this, I  mostly feel sorry for the parents. No doubt because I've been there, done that! I understand what the majority of those parents are feeling. Utter humiliation! And everyone doesn't give birth to perfect and laid back children. There are a lot of different factors that make up a rowdy child, and most of the time, it's not bad parenting. I can't give you scientific numbers, but my expertise is in rotten-ass children. Three of them to be exact.

I know when my first son was two years old I thought I'd never make it out alive. Taking off through the stores, going wild, me chasing after him, crying and screaming at the top of his lungs if I made him stay in the buggy- you name it. And to be perfectly honest, I was terrified. I was humiliated, but had no idea how I was expected to react. I knew I was going to try to catch him and try to calm him, but I was also concerned about the public around me and what the hell they must be thinking. I assumed if I swatted his bottom, someone would either accuse me of abuse or at the very least make evil comments to me. When, in hindsight, most people were probably wondering why in the hell I didn't beat his ass or at least be more stern when scolding him.

I remember thinking when someone told me there was no such thing as the terrible twos and it would get worse when he was three, this was where I knew better, because it couldn't possibly get any worse. Boy was I ever wrong! It seemed like he reached terrible twos x ten the very day he turned three.

The second son came along and when he was two, that gave me a four year old and a two year old to chase. And the second one was way more high-strung! He was literally "Code Adam" and "Code Red" in two different stores in the same week. If you're not familiar with the codes- those are codes for a lost child and they put the entire store on lock down, with an employee at every exit so that no one can exit the store with the child. I feel the need to mention that he was found under a clothes rack in one instance and in the second...well, let's just say I was more than a little embarrassed when I turned a corner frantically searching for my son and saw him laughing hysterically and running, darting in and out of clothes racks, from side to side...with store employees chasing behind him. He was a fast little booger. No. That wasn't exhausting or humiliating. No. Not at all. And let's not forget, I still had the shopping to do after these dreadful workouts.

 The fact was that I simply could not chase two children at one time if they were going in different directions. I had to make a choice every ten seconds and usually  tried to grab whoever was closest or in the most danger of getting taken by a stranger- but at the same time, their antics pretty much made them kidnapper proof since kidnappers don't want children who aren't afraid of anything and would have no problem kicking them in the balls just for fun. It wasn't quite over, either. That same week, my same loving, adorable two year old who had coded two stores that week, also ate Mothballs and had to sit at the local Fire Department for a while throwing up in a pan. Before you judge me- I didn't leave the Mothballs where my children could easily reach them. No, I did worse. When he discovered a Mothball under a couch cushion that I had overlooked after having the furniture stored while in the process of moving and actually brought it to me and showed it to me saying," Look, Mommy, I have a Dinosaur Egg " I nodded my head sweetly to him responding with, "yes, very cool, sweetie!" as I talked to a visitor knowing that he did, in fact, have Dinosaur Egg candy. It wasn't until he walked back over to us moments later with pieces of it broken up and running down his chin in his drool with a disgusted look on his face, that I could smell it and instantly knew what had happened. Visit over! The Fire Department was very close by, thank GOD! This same child that week- and when I say "that week" I mean in five days time- also took a trip to the Emergency Room to get five staples in the back of his head after taking advantage of the fact that I had stepped outside to hold the flashlight for their father who was working on the car and decided to try and turn a flip on on the clothes rod in the closet and fell and hit his head on the corner of a box. That was a really rough week, but he's seventeen now and has shown no signs of slowing down. The difference is- I've grown accustomed to it and I'm much calmer when he injures himself, because I always expect it.

The point is- it truly does take a village to raise one child, so the next time you see a woman with spit up or already chewed up food on her clothes, leaving her purse in the buggy in order to chase her rotten ass kids in different directions...give her the sympathy smile and nod to let her know she's not a horrible mother and it would be perfectly acceptable to sit down in the floor and cry if she needs to. And pray for their safe return home and that she is able to at least get hamburger meat and Macaroni in the buggy before giving up and going home.

By the way- by the time my third child came along, a beautiful daughter, I no longer gave two shits what other people in the store were thinking. I didn't care if I looked like a crazy woman. I had to catch those damn kids no matter what other people thought and I loved their rotten asses.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Flipping Out's Jenni Pulos Raps About Poo!

Tuesday, October 1, 2013


NeNe: What do I do, Mr. Trump?
Trump: Does he have money?
NeNe: Well, yes.
Trump: But you have more?
NeNe: Um...yes.

Greg: I know a guy. We can get counseling and get our car washed at the same time.
NeNe: Uh-hahaha. I know a guy, too. We're getting a pre-nup or you're fired. BLOOP!