When I Was A Kid There Was No Shredded Cheese!

When I Was A Kid There Was No Shredded Cheese!

Today, I got to thinking about my younger days. And when I say my younger days, I mean around the age of 7 or 8. The year would have been 1977-1978, and the world was a sunshiny, goldenrod colored flower with avocado colored leaves that grew from a beautiful pile of fluffy orange shag carpet! I then began to remember that when I was a kid, you couldn’t buy shredded cheese in a bag. If you wanted shredded cheese, in 1977, you had to buy a brick of it, and shred it yourself. This opened up a whole new can of worms within my thought process. I suppose every generation before ours has looked at the younger one behind them and thought, “wow, what a bunch of spoiled little punk babies!” Perhaps it’s because I am getting older by the minute that I have taken on this air of being an “old fart”, so to speak. It is a tragically unavoidable air that sneaks up on you in the middle of the night. One minute you’re 7, then the next minute you are 40. I suppose that’s just the way time works. I’d like to think that 40 isn’t that old, but when I think about the things that we did, and didn’t have, in the 70’s, it is sort of crazy weird man! LOL! So here is my list called When I Was A Kid There Was No Shredded Cheese In A Bag, And….

If you wanted to listen to music, you listened to a radio station and waited for your favorite song, or you bought a record (a big vinyl disk shaped object that spins around on a thing called a record player). When I was 7 they still hadn’t invented cassette tapes yet. They were still called 8 track tapes. If you don’t know what that is, look it up…LOL! There was no such thing as ear buds, or headphones. If you did have a pair of headphones, you were either a “disk jockey”, or a “ham radio operator”.

Our video games did not move with our body. We had a stick, and a button! We fought space invaders, ate ghosts, blew up asteroids, won races, and saved princess’ that were held captive by gorillas, all with a STICK and a BUTTON! Don’t mess with me, punk!

A cell phone? If I had seen a cell phone in 1977, I would have thought it was a Star Trek Communicator! Me and my friends would have tried to overthrow the universe with this device. We also would have attempted to communicate with aliens, or use it to travel through time. There were no push buttons on phones, either. They were all rotary dial phones. If you had a push button phone in 1977, you were from another planet, or you at least worked there, and you knew the secret of time travel and the alien language.

NO CABLE TELEVISION! Aaaaah! That’s right, Kids! I said it! We only had 3 channels on the TV. How did we ever survive our childhood?! Cartoons could only be watched on 1 channel, 1 day a week, which was Saturday. If you were a kid, in 1977, and you missed Saturday morning cartoons, it was considered blasphemous to your peers. If you tried to lie about it, they would catch you through a series of pop quiz interrogation, then you would be humiliated and called a “hound dog”, or something…lol!

Cars had no seat belts in 1977. Nope! When we traveled down the road in 1977, we crawled in the floor board, laid in the back window, hung from the headrests, performed aerobatics while diving from the front seat to the backseat, and sometimes when the parents weren’t looking, we rolled the window down and hung the whole upper half of our body out the window while screaming “Born Free!”

I could go on and on…these are the most memorable things to me. That, and the cheese, of course! LOL!

40 years (almost) with Lara. Happy Birthday, Best Friend!

I met Lara, when we were eight. She was in her back yard capturing helpless creatures, such as grasshoppers, kittens, birds, you know, anything smaller than her that wasn’t poisonous. She was sweating profusely, something that never changed, while she tried to Elmer’s Glue a bow onto an earthworm, her thick, curly hair was stuck to the side of her face. I walked up to her and said “Hi! What are you doing?” and she said “Oh, just putting a bow on this earthworm, you know, to make it look pritty, wanna help?” And that was the beginning of our friendship. I thought that anyone who was interested in making an earthworm look “pritty”, as she called it, was alright by me. I also thought that if she could make an earthworm look “pritty”, then she could maybe help me out a bit. We spent the whole day making things look “pritty”, from dogs and cats, to ants and grasshoppers. Some of our little friends didn’t make it through the beautification process, but we felt good in knowing that they died “pritty”. It wasn’t until many years later that Lara and I discovered the little critters of nature had no idea they were ugly, nor did they care. From that time on, we were a great team. Lara was skinny, I was chubby. Lara could run really fast, I could break tree limbs over my thigh. Lara could climb the tallest tree within seconds, I could grab a ladder just as fast. By the age of 12, Lara and I had become quite clever in our endeavors to break our boredom. One of our favorite things to do was grab the gasoline can, pour the gas into yellow jacket holes, and set them on fire. Our other activities were badminton (affectionately referred to as ShuttleCock Death Matches), snooping, playing baseball with golf balls (sorry neighbors), throwing hairspray cans into flames, duct taping things (you don’t wanna know), and general mayhem. We also loved to play Star Trek, but I hated it when Lara made me dress up like a Tribble. We kept ourselves fueled with Boo Berry, Pac Man, Lucky Charms and any other cereal that contained marshmallows. Lara’s favorite food was Spaghetti O’s and Jungle Juice until, what we’ll just call, “The Barfing Incident on Green Shag Carpet”. Lara and I managed to ignite (no pun intended) our way into our 20’s. I’d like to say that I remember my 20’s, but I don’t. I suppose the most memorable incident in my twenties would be when Lara almost choked me to death on a bucket of confetti at a New Years Party. I swallowed so much of it, that I pooped it the next day. I can laugh about it now, but it wasn’t too funny then. Bitch! Oh yeah, and the time Lara saved my life when my back went out at my 21st birthday party, I remember that, and to that I say “You are my hero, Lara!”. I shouldn’t have been trying to kick someone in the butt anyway. If I had to sum up our 20’s it would be full of Waffle House, Bailey’s, Long Island Tea, Goldschlager, scattered, smothered, covered chunks of all things red and sparkly that contained glitter and alcohol. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times, but we made it. We settled down quite a bit in our 30’s, when we discovered that glittery alcohol parties made us sore, and the headaches were unbearable. I suppose it would be safe to say that in our 30’s, we rested. We’re 40 now, and I must say, I have memories to make me laugh for the next forty years. Traveling through life with Lara for the past 32 years, has taught me many valuable lessons. I will list a few: how to make a turniquette when someone is profusely bleeding from their pinky toe, how to pull my own teeth, how to drink a cocktail upside down, how to tie a knot in a cherry stem, how to tell people nicely to go away, how to get down from a roof when someone takes the ladder away, how to beat the crap out of someone with a badminton racket, how to perform CPR when someone is choking on Pac Man cereal, and the list could go on forever. If I were to tell you the most important lesson I ever learned from Lara, it would be: never believe someone when they say “Here, try this, it’s delicious!” without making them take a bite first. I love you, Lara. You are my best friend. Thank you for 32 years of laughter and love. Happy 40th Birthday!

Motherclucker is 40 today!

Well, here I am 40 years old. I never thought I’d see the day, but alas, here it is. I plan on laughing my way through it. I have found myself reflecting on many things…lost love, family, old friends and new friends, tragedy, happiness, and the future. I wish someone had told me that your brain doesn’t really turn on completely until this age…LOL! God has truly blessed me with many things, and I am thankful. Thankful for reaching 40 years old in one piece…LOL!  I would like to thank all my friends on here for making the last days of my 30’s a complete blast. I love and appreciate you all!


Commercials that must go…’nuf said.

I, as a rule, am not much of a complainer<wink, wink>. However, I am going to have to complain about something important, commercials on TV that must go. We’ll begin with my most hated commercial on TV.   Now, I am by no means making light of a man’s manliness suddenly being no more. This is clearly a tragedy, but alas, a fact of life. My complaint revolves around those ridiculous Extenze Male Enhancement commercials that seem to rape the very existence of my crappy television viewing experience. When I am up late, unable to sleep, the last thing I need to see on television is a 70 year old man talking about his problem with getting his flagpole to fly high, again. He’s standing in the gym, watching a very young girl workout on a stairmaster, and talking about how thankful he is that he can finally get it up again. Now, here’s my opinion of it, and some of you may not like it. There is nothing more disgusting than imagining an old man, running around, with his Extenze endowed pecker, looking for some action. What about all those old men who take these things, and then they can’t get any action? They have to call a doctor! Because apparently, you can end up with an Extenzion (no pun intended)…no wait…yes it was intended…but you can end up with an woody that could last as long as 4 hours. If this happens, you should call a doctor. This sort of makes me laugh, because then I envision some old man at the three and a half hour mark, not getting any action, writhing in pain and saying, “Just 30 more minutes, just 30 more minutes, then I can call!”, because clearly he would not have enough blood running to his brain to think clearly and concisely.  If I want to watch an old man, who can’t get it up anymore, run after young hot women, then I will watch “The Girls Next Door”, at least it is remotely entertaining, and it’s just expected from Hugh Hefner. I wish they would please stop showing these commercials. Just stop. Attention all old men, and I’m talking 70 or above, if your manhood stops working, maybe that’s just nature’s way of telling you to STOP.  Remember those butter commercials in the 70’s? “It’s not nice to fool mother nature!” or, if you live  in my world, nice to “fool with mother nature”. I have a new theory now, about this alleged pill that helps old men get it up. I am starting to think, and this may sound a bit conspiricist, that the reason all these women and children are being snatched up, is because of Extenze pills. Yes, that’s right, I said it. I won’t go any further with that theory. I will, however, insist that these commercials must go! Here are a few other commercials that gross me out just as bad:

The Athletes Foot Toe Fungus Commercials – these usually come on right when I am munching on something crunchy, like potato chips, or having a snack.

The You Can Live With Your Herpes Commercials – ick! Really, who would want to?

Feminine Hygiene Commercials – embarrassing, and always come on when your sitting beside a guy, plus they make it out to be such a fun and exciting time. This is the biggest lie in the history of commercial land.

The Pepto Bismol Commercials – And I’m talking about the ones where the people are doing dramatic interpretations of upset stomach, diarreah, etc, etc…gross, I don’t want to see you do that! Stop!

I could probably blog all day on this topic, but I won’t. I’m getting kind of tired of talking about it. It is giving me panic attacks..LOL…so I should probably stop. Until we meet again, remember…

Down With Disgusting Commercials!

Later Taters,




My name is Shmillary Shminton…

Hello everyone,

My name is Shmillary Shminton. Most of you have probably never heard of me, but you have heard of my book called It Takes a Village to Raise an Idiot. I recently traveled to China to speak about human rights. While I feel that human rights are being horribly violated at the hands of the Chinese government, I really feel that the global economy is currently much more important than human rights. If all of you human rights activist would purchase my book and read it, then you could probably solve your human rights problem quite simply. My book talks about problems such as this and relates it to the village. Really, you shouldn’t be asking me, or anyone else for that matter, to solve this problem for you. You should consult your “head village idiot”, like my book says, and then resolve this problem on your own, as a “village”.  I hope I am not being too bold when I say that you “villagers” need to quit bringing your petty problems to the feet of important people like myself, and other government officials. Can’t you peons see that we are busy trying to make money to give away to others who really don’t need it? Can’t you see that we are only taking our citizens best interest to heart in our decision making? Therefore, after lengthy talks with China, I have decided that human rights will always come second place to global economy. With that being said, I would appreciate it if all you villagers would just go away, and handle this yourselves. Please try to stop whining in the process. We have a saying in my house, if I may quote a line from my book, and it goes “The village idiot knows best”, and I should know, because I live with a former Chief village idiot, named Brill Shminton. Just remember this, human rights activism comes from the silly ideologies of what I call “so called smart villagers”. It is these “so called smart villagers” that cause problems in the village. You need to weed these people out, and remove them from your villages, and your lives would probably become better on their own. With that being said, I would like to apologize. For what, I am not sure, but I’ll apologize anyway.

Until we speak again….

Don’t think humanitarian, Think Global!

Yours Truly,

Shmillary Shminton

TVA and the toxic sludge spill!

Thank you, TVA, for spilling 100 billion…yes, that’s right, I said 100 billion gallons of toxic coal fly ash sludge into the river. View Nasa pics and read about it here. It seems that a toxic sludge retaining pond broke 77 miles above Chattanooga, at one of TVA’s coal burning plants, in Harriman, Tn.  Harriman, Tn  is…or should I say was…a beautiful, mountainous, river town north of Chattanooga. But now, over 300 acres of land have been destroyed from the toxic sludge flood. Some people’s homes were lifted off of their foundations and moved down the road. People in the town are having to wade through toxic sludge with their children. They are afraid to drink the water due to the massive amounts of arsenic, lead, and other cancer causing agents within the sludge. Farmers are worried about their animals. People are worried about their families health. Everyone is worried about the Tennessee River. I know I am. I know that I’m not gonna be drinking any of my tap water, ever again.  Here’s what really pisses me off. This supposedly happened on Dec. 22, and I am just now hearing about it! Not only that, but there has not just been one spill…but two! WTF? Now, they’re worried about when this toxic sludge dries out, and floats up into the atmosphere causing respiratory problems, possibly cancer, major air quality damage, and God knows what other type of health problems. I am MA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-D AS HELL! Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I would just like to say this..Mr. Governor, don’t you find it completely stupid to enact laws where people can’t SMOKE A CIGARETTE in a public building, but you don’t do anything to keep us safe from..oh I don’t know…DEADLY, CANCER CAUSING TOXIC SLUDGE! Here in Chattanooga, thank God we have to go pay 10 dollars of our hard earned money to have our emissions checked! I suppose that what comes out of the muffler of my car is way worse than TOXIC SLUDGE FLOATING IN THE AIR! You can kiss your improved air quality GOODBYE, Mr. Governor. You know how we fail the emissions test just because our check engine light is on? Huh? Do ya? The last 20 years of check engine lights staying on, cannot compare with this disaster! So much for strapping our kids in the car like Joan Crawford, to save their lives! Now I’ve gotta worry about even taking them outside to ride in the damn car! I’m gonna have to worry about what my child eats, drinks, breathes, touches, EVERYTHING! Peoples lives are being destroyed right this minute, and it is being treated like spilled milk on an elementary school cafeteria floor! These people can get on TV all day and tell me that the water is fine. The long term damage that this will cause is catastrophic. While I’m writing this billions of gallons of god knows what kind of chemicals are sinking deep into the ground right now! I’m sorry, I hear that they are busy dropping grass seed to keep the TOXIC SLUDGE IN PLACE! What genius came up with that one? And by all means, let’s dredge the river up around Oak Ridge that contains mercury and radioactive cesium that was dumped there back in WWII that no one ever bothered to clean up! GRRRRRRRR! After this, I think that it would be SAFE TO SAY THAT OUR RIVER IS PERMANENTLY DESTROYED! You tax us to death, and claim that we as citizens are the ones polluting the air! You impose outrageous fines on us for SMOKING A CIGARETTE IN PUBLIC, FOR GOD SAKES! Now, look!…thank God people can’t die from my second hand smoke, now! Because if the second hand smoke doesn’t get ya, THE FRESH AIR YOU BREATHE WILL! Ahhhh….I love the smell of toxic fly ash in the morning! Don’t you honey? Yes Judy, I do! Will you hold my locally produced beef and tomato sandwich while I strap the kids into their car seats? Thanks, Sweetie.

My father’s mind…

My father had a small stroke a few years ago. It didn’t affect his speech, but he did get temporary amnesia when it happened. He was doing yard work one day, and suddenly didn’t know where he was, or what he was doing. He knocked on our front door and asked where he was, like we were perfect strangers. At first, we thought he was just being funny, then we realized it was much more serious when I said “daddy, you are so funny!” He gave me a look of horror and said “who are you? Do I know you?” I kind of wondered what daddy thought at that moment, with me being a stranger to him. I wonder if he thought I was the crazy one? I think he did. If it hadn’t been for the fact that we had to rush him to the hospital immediately, I would have invited him in for some iced tea, and then chatted his ears off about nothing at all, just for fun…LOL!  To make a long story short, my father is really funny, and since the stroke, he has become a rather comic genius to me. We have conversations such as this…

Daddy: What is that box doing by the door?

Me: Which box? There are two. The small box or the bigger box?

Daddy: What box are you talking about?

Me: I wasn’t talking about the box, you were.

Daddy: I know, what is in that box sitting by the door?

Me: I don’t know, mom put them there.

Daddy: You didn’t answer my question.

Me: Yes, I did. You asked me about the box by the door, and I told you the answer. I don’t know.

Daddy: What box?

This is the way our conversations go on a regular basis. It is like a constant game of “Who’s on First?” I try to keep up with all the funny things he says like “now there’s a woman who would run through a field of bulls, wearing a jersey cow suit, just to drop her kid off on the other side.” He said that about Casey Anthony. He also said “boy, she’s one of those women who would rather suck venom from a rattlesnakes lips, than tend to her kid.” He told my middle sister the other day that the back of her head looked “like a stump full of daddy long legs”, and I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself, because that’s exactly what it looked like. LOL! His latest statement, and the reason for this post, came the day after Christmas. We were sitting in the living room, when my father turns to me and says “Boy, I sure am glad Christmas is over, I’m ready for Halloween!” I’m not sure why he skipped all the other holidays in between. And the funny thing is, my father has always hated Halloween. It just makes me wonder….hmmmmm. LOL!