Puppy Chow

*Im not a measurer. Im a guess-ta-mater.

9 cups rice chex

1 bag chocolate chips

scoopful of peanut butter (some recipes call it 1/2C)

2 cupsish powdered sugar

1. Pour chex in bowl.

2. Melt choc chips. 

3. Stir in pnut butter and melt together.

4. Pour choc/pnut butter mix over chex.

5. MIX. Coat all the chex.

I like to get my hands in there. Makes it a little easier to coat 'em all.

6. Pour 1 cup powdered sugar in ziplock bag.

7. Put a few handfuls of chex mix in bag.

8. Shake what ya momma gave ya.

Making sure its all covered in the white stuff.

9. Pour in bowl and repeat steps 6, 7, and 8.

Why Sugar Boo Pants is a bad gift giver

Scenario Uno:

Christmas 2010.

Our first Christmas together.

I ask for the usual. Jewlery, B&BW, and some books from a new series I had just started reading.

He tells his mom to get me this.

I am very grateful for my gifts, but I didn't know what this thing was. I didn't know how to work it. I liked having a real book in my hand that I could turn the pages and read in the bath tub.

I liked how I could trade and borrow books and buy them for $1 at garage sales.

Where did he get that I wanted a kindle? The opposite of what I love in a book.

So he tells Mom to get it and he will pay her half and just call that my Christmas. a year later he still hasn't paid her.

I use my Kindle every now and then. 

I truly am grateful for it.

The books are just more than I want to pay for.

Scenario Dos:

Valentine's Day 2011.

Flowers- good decision.

Tanning bed certificate- not so good.

When have you seen me go to the tanning bed, Sugarboo?

So I take the certificate to the place to use it to suffice him.... The freakin certificate is just for REGISTRATION FEES!! What?? So you want to draft out of my account each month just so I can burn and poison my skin?? 

Okay, whatever. I'll do it for a few times and cancel it.

Scenario Tres:

My 25th birthday.

I consider this birthday a milestone.I took it kind of hard.

I figured since he kinda bombed on the last two gift giving times I would make this easy peasy for the guy.

How did I do that, you ask?

I printed off pictures of EXACTLY what I wanted.

Gave him prices and store directions.

And I gave him PLENTY of options.

Have I mention how CHEAP he is???

What does he do??

I can tell you exactly what he did.

He waited until THE LAST MINUTE.

Went to Tarjay to get a card.

Was in the checkout line and decides to pick up a Starbucks Gift Card and a Tarjat Gift Card.

Yea yea everyone loves gift cards. And I do too.

The point is he waited until the last minute and didn't put any thought into my gift.

I'm the kind of girl that will take a cheap present as long as it has some thought put into it.

But I will also take an expensive one with some thought put into it.

Moving on.

Enter Scenarion Quatro:

Yesterday.

Let me catch you up to speed real quick.

I've sorda become quite domesticated this past year.

So I told my parents I wanted a sewing machine for Christmas. Mom learned her lesson a few years ago and started going by my wishlist.

So since I got a sewing machine, I needed all the little stuff that went along with it. Such as scissors, thread, pins, pin cushion, you get the drift.

So Sugar Boo Pants, again waits until the last freakin minute,decides he wants to get me sewing stuff. I'm gonna give him credit here, I think he did put a little more thought into it this time.

But, he gets me quilting stuff and sewing stuff for mass productions.

This would be like me going into a hunting store and trying to pick him out some decoys or something. I'm just not gonna put myself through that.

I tell him I have to take some it back.

He gets pissy.

Then we kiss and make up. 

Bonus:

SBP did send me flowers to work for no reason at all.

Just love that man, even if he is helpless in the gift department.

*Please note:

I am extremely grateful for all the gift I have received. 

Im just bitching that SBP is cheap and waits until the last minute.

Thanks for not sending me hate mail.

Share your world: Christmas Edition

Linking up with Stilettos and a fishing pole

Check back tomorrow for a post on why Sugar Boo Pants is a bad gift giver.

Chevy Chase(i just love him) Christmas Vacation. Duh!

Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.

Ohmyword I could make a meal off of puppy chow.

Surrously THE. BEST. THING. you will EVER put in your mouth!

It's totally replace my crack addiction.

Get a Job!

While standing in line at the good ole' Wal-Mart, I was checking out the two carts in front me of.

Yes, I confess that I'm curious to see what you are buying, why you may be making the purchase you are, and then I come up with a life story for you. Just something I do to humor myself while waiting on you to hurry up and finish your flirting with the cashier.

Well, to give you a picture of what I was seeing .....keep reading.

The first person standing in line was an older gentleman, probably in his 60's or 70's.  He looked as if he hadn't had a shower in about three days with a long 'yellow' beard and overalls that looked as if his wife passed away last year and she hadn't been around to wash his clothes, nor make him take a shower and he was enjoying every minute of it.
He probably spent his days smoking his cigars and drinking his coffee while watching the birds outside his picture window. For this story, we'll call him gramps.

Behind him in line was a woman in a spaghetti straped tank top that looked like it was a week due for the washing machine. Mind you, it's December and cold here in Arkansas.  She was wearing some skin tight sweat pants and every roll on her side was showing as well as every dimple on her legs.  She obviously wasn't wearing a bra and had a bad dye job that she probably did herself and just to add to the "GIRL, you need to see my stylist", she had dyed her hair 'yellow' about three months ago and her 'natural' color is dark brown. You see where I am going with this? We'll call her Patsy for this story.

Well, I am standing in line with my bottled water, clothes pins, wrapping paper, and hair spray.  I notice that Gramps' cart is FULL to the brim with childrens clothes, toys, and some toothbrushes.  Patsy's basket is full of enfamil, ornage juice, milk, eggs, and rice cereal. Now, in high school I used to work at Kroger, the local grocery store, and by looking into her basket I could tell she was on food stamps or WIC, the state program that provides families in need the 'give me' mind set with free food. 

The following conversation then happens:
Patsy: Old man, why in the world do you need all these clothes and toys? You don't even look like you have a family to buy for for Christmas.

(While saying this, you can def. see that she hadn't brushed her teeth in quite awhile and I think I could see the green smoke coming from her mouth.)

Gramps: Looks back at Patsy, shakes his head, and continues checking out.

Patsy: Old man, hurry up. I have places to be, things to do. Move a little faster.
(okay so here is the part where I think,

Place to be: crack house.  Things to do: Every neighbor in sight.)

Gramps: Looks back again at her and says, "Go to another line then please. I am sorry, but it may be awhile."
(I am now starting to like gramps A LOT. And I am starting to wish that she would go to another line so I could quit smelling her awful B.O.)

Patsy: Huffs and puffs. Rolls her eyes. Puts her hands on her hips and yells, "Old Man, get a job as the door greeter, you fat, stinky old man."

Me: Lady, please be polite to your elders. (I then turn to Gramps and say...."Take your time, I really don't have to be anywhere.")

He then smiles at me and nods.

I then start to feel bad for him and begin helping him unload his cart onto the belt. We do not exchange any words, but I really really want to give him a hug at this point.

After he is finished checking out, I notice that his bill totaled to over $2,000 dollars. He pulls out his wallet, pays with cash and walks out one happy man, proud of his accomplishments.

Patsy then turns to me and asks me to help her unload her cart. I then ignore her and she then says this....

Patsy: "You'll help an old man, but not me. Trash."

AWWWWW HEck NAW!  She didn't just call ME trash. (points to self) ME? What? ME? OH nawwww...don't make me go off on you and your braless self.

Me: "I only help people who help themselves." Then, I smiled. :)

She then turns to the cashier and starts ranting and raving about Gramps and how long he took to check out. Here comes the best part of the story....r.e.a.d.y?

Cashier: "Ma'am. I am sorry that you feel that way, but that man you called "old man" was buying for the local charity to help families in need for Christmas. He was buying clothes and toys for the local children who may not have anything on Christmas morning. You should probably thank him, because he was probably buying for YOUR kids (points to her)."

Me: *laughs histarically*

Patsy: *points to me* "Probably your kids too."

Me: "Ma'am, I do not have kids, but as someone who works with kids I know exactly how great of a man that was that just walked through the check out. He is truly an angel and you SHOULD have thanked him."

Patsy: "Oh look at you all high and mighty."

Me: "GET A JOB! I am tired of paying for you to be lazy, sit on a couch, and expect something from everybody. Respect yourself, your kids, and others enough to be nice."
At this point I am shaking and really ticked off at her.

*Cheers then came from people behind me and from the check out lines on either side.*

Long story short.....she probably left there that day wanting to dig a hole and crawl in. She probably won't get a job and will continue to live off of others, but I did learn a HUGE lesson that day. Gramps is an angel that will probably provide for Patsy's familiy and will do it with a smile on his face. Next time you'd like to rant and rave, think twice and give 'gramps' a hug and say thank you! :) MERRY CHRISTMAS!

These are my confessions

(Que Usher)

Linking up with Leslie at A Blonde Ambition

I CONFESS: I can go two days without washing my hair.
I CONFESS: Im a regifter. I have already re wrapped a few things. #cheap
I CONFESS: Im taking back some things I got from a blog swap. 
I CONFESS: When it gets 3:00 or 4:00 at work, I slow waaaaaaay down until 5.
I CONFESS: Im a hoarder. A hoarder with a problem. I realize this when I look in my garage and see all kinds of boxes. I cant throw them away. I might need them for something one day. #someonepleasecomethrowthingsaway
I CONFESS: So I have this friend who signed up to sell Scentsy. Yes, its a great product, But she tries to sell me something or get me to sell something for her every time we talk. Not cool mam.

The Blonde's search for the perfect stylist

Just about every girl and her Beautician/Hair Stylist have a relationship.

Y'all know what I'm sayin.

The kind of relationship that takes years to build.

The kind of relationship that has as much trust as a marriage does.

Man that hair sure does look good.

I had that kind of relationship with Mae Mae.

It was the longest relationship I had ever had. 

No one has filled her shoes.

No Salon will ever match up with hers.

I have put Mae Mae on a pedestal.

This wonderful hair stylist and I met 6 years ago through my friend Brittney who helped out around the shop. I decided to let her highlight my hair. She was amazing. And affordable. And could always fit me in. She knew exactly what I wanted.

Fast forward a few years. I move 3 hours away. Every 6 weeks I was driving back to MaeMae for the same highlight and trim. This hair of mine was getting more and more expensive. "I can't go longer than 6 weeks and start lookin all skanky!" I say to my barely there roots one day.

So ask around, and I ask around. I call Mae Mae and ask her what I should do.

"Guh, yo ass cray cray fo drivin all da way down hur just fo dem roots uh yo's. Fine u sum wun up der. I be ok wit dat." (follow that) Just kidding. I don't get my hair did by some mammie jammie in the trailer park.

So I find a girl up here. She's ok. Not what Mae Mae and I had. 

Girl#2 is more expensive. Not as fun to talk to. She doesn't think my stories are crazy. And she is charging me different prices each time. For the same thing each month. Yea, I know. Im getting suspicious too.

So girls, Im on the search for The Mae Mae #2. 

Will keep you updated.

My girl.....Britney

Let's talk a little bit about my girl....

Britney Spears

Crazy? Nawwww!

Genius? YES!

Let's start at the beginning.

She starts out as a small town girl working for the Mickey Mouse club.

Hey....the good ole' JT worked with her too! Where genius begins.

Yes, I know. Genius isn't the first thing that comes to mind when think Brit. You probably think

1. greasy mess

2. awful mother

3. lip singer

4. train wreck

but....these characteristics that you first thought is all part of my girls plan.

Now, I don't mean genius as in the intellectual high IQ kind, more like this kind of genius

or this......

or maybe even this kind of genius....

She then moved onto her teen pop years which included
"Hit Me Baby One More Time"

cue the short skirt, big boobs, and innocent 'lingerie' look where every girl wanted to be her and every guy wanted...well wanted to be ** her.

The midriff = TOP RECORD SALES

Then came the red leather body suit...

this is where the boys lost it and where Halloween costume sales sky rocketed..

Brit set the bar so high others couldn't reach it such as Christina A. and Madonna. So she kissed them.

Every pop star with those pretty blonde locks and that could dance was immediately compared to my Brit. She was on Cloud 9. The problem with Cloud 9 is that it then begins to rain and you can't stay on that cloud forever.

 

She had used all of her tricks at this point. All the minnie mouse voice songs had been sung and you can only pull off the half naked pose so many times before everyone has seen it all and gets tired of looking at the fake boobs (which she claims never happened).

People got tired of her...

Her record sales dropped...

Her pretty face was all over every magazine and it wasn't selling...

She danced her heart out, no one watched (except those Chinese boys that still wanted...well....)

Britney Thought....
Which is where her 'genius' brain cell started working....

and gave us this....

and

and

and

and

So here you see....
Instead of busting her butt working harder, she just busted her butt out in front of our faces and of course we looked.


Reality TV= watching others lives that are worse than ours and we feel good about ourselves

Watching Britney Spears fall= feeling damn good about ourselves

Only a genius can fall from pretty blonde southern belle with a cute voice to trailer park ghetto with a side of ramen noodles.

She then she does this....

Our reaction to this is
"AWE HEEEEEEEECK NAW.  Here she comes....Miss Beautiful Britney."

She then releases a few hit songs. Hits because we greet her with smiles and hopes. We fall for it.
She makes millions.

But, then she randomly hits us with another bang. Just like an alcoholic goes to rehab...comes home...greeted with excitement and hope. Then we find out that they got a DUI last night and we crawl back into our hole of despair.

Yes. I love her. She's smart and knows how to work us. We keep buying her ups and downs along with some computerized music.

I'll admit......I love me some Britney playing in the background every day while washing my filth.

Yes, I've been caught dancing and singing to

in the shower. Husband thinks I'm crazy. Yes, I wish I looked like Brit. Yes, I'd be that crazed fan at her concert. Yes, I wish she'd come to Arkansas. Yes, I have all of her cd's....and yes I've been that faithful fan.

Good thing the hubs doesn't like her...he's more of a

kind of man. That's a post for another day.