Fred & Wilma's 50th Anniversary

These are my inlaws, Fred and Wilma. Yes, those are their real names.
Notice that Fred is wearing his Flintstones tie.
This past weekend, we celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary at a dinner party attended by 125 family members and friends.
They looked great in their matching purple shirts!
Courtney put together a media presentation of pictures and video that brought everyone to tears.
It was a long drive to get there, but all the work that went into this special evening was well worth it.
Wilma reads my blog regularly.
I know she and Fred would love to read your congratulations and well wishes.
Yabba-Dabba-Dooo!

( Indie and Jerry attempted Taylor's math question from yesterday's post, AND both got it right. Show offs!
Mike - the guy who abandoned his blog recently - admitted that he loves math. A few others claimed to be skilled in both language and mathematics. Looks like I may need to have a Litmus Test here. Math lovers WILL be penalized!)

Venn Diagram Hell

After having taught both kids algebra, I know how to do math, but I HATE it. My son is currently enduring geometry, which means I'm travelling the horrid, Geometric Road along with him.
Notice, I did not say the road was hitonious. Hitonious roads that have been traveled as a homeschooling mother were the Quadratic Formula Interstate and Graphing Algebraic Functions Boulevard. I nearly died several times on those treacherous roads.
Currently, we are studying Venn Diagrams. It started out easy, so I let my guard down. Then came this problem:

"Suppose I discover that my cat has a taste for the adorable little geckoes that live in the bushes and vines in my back yard. In one month, he deposits the following on my carpet: six gray geckoes, twelve geckoes that had dropped their tails in an effort to escape capture, and fifteen geckoes that he'd chewed on a little. Only one of the geckoes was gray, chewed on, and tailless; two were gray and tailless but not chewed on; two were gray and chewed on but not tailless. If there were a total of 24 geckoes left on my carpet that month, and all of the geckoes were at least one of "gray", "tailless", and "chewed on", how many were tailless and chewed on but not gray?"

If this problem doesn't make your head spin, then you are a math-minded person, and I hate you.
I am a language-minded person. I love to play Scrabble and other word games, which I suppose does not appeal to you math-minded goobers.

I came across this on the internet:
"This site is for people who seek engaging mathematics."
Did you catch that? Those who "SEEK" engaging math. That means there are people who forage the world wide web in search of this stuff... for FUN!
That, dear friends, is utter madness.

If you are able to get the answer to Taylor's problem above without finding it on the internet, then you have my deepest respect and admiration.
And, I despise you.

A Tip about Tender Areas

I buy Walmart's Equate Baby Wash for 98 cents a bottle, which can be compared to the ingredients of Johnson's Baby Wash.
I use this wash on my tender areas.
Women know that a gentle wash is preferred over a shower gel or bar of soap that stings. I find that baby wash works great as a gentle facial cleanser as well.
I keep it in the shower at all times.
I don't know if men have need of gentle cleansing or not. I would think with areas getting damp, itchy, and with all the adjusting that goes on throughout the day, that a gentle wash might be welcomed.
I can't imagine that Irish Spring coming into contact with rashy, irritated, male, tender areas would be very pleasant.
Purchasing generic baby wash at just under a dollar a bottle, means you can afford to slather at will without regard to wasting the product.
You can't do that with those expensive shower gels, and besides, they sting like the dickens!
Just thought I'd pass this along.
That what blog friends are for.

P.S: Most deodorant advertisments that claim to leave no residue on clothing are full of SHIG (minus the g and replace with t). If you've found one that truly leaves NOTHING on your clothes (this includes black fabric), please tell me the brand name, so I can purchase it from now on.

Conversation in Our Car

Taylor: Did you know that this city has a ghetto?
Courtney: No, it doesn't.
T: Yes, it does.
C: This city has an old section with old houses, but it's not a ghetto.
T: Well, you haven't been there when the caps hit the ground.
Jamie Dawn: What's this about "caps?" Are you trying to sound like a rapper?
T: I'm just saying Courtney hasn't been there to hear the caps when they hit the ground during shootouts.
JD: Uh-huh.
C: Taylor, tell mom about that kid, Forest.
T: Forest told me that his family eats weasels, beavers & muskrats.
JD: He's just kidding.
T: No, he's not. He said they went to church and on the way home noticed a dead deer beside the road. His mom said, "That deer wasn't there this morning when we came by." So, they picked it up, brought it home, cooked it and ate it.
JD: Uh-huh.
C: Mom, he's not kidding.
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Junior! Git my gun! I smell a pole cat!
Bring Granny her teeth and some of that critter jerky.
Dump her spit bucket while yer at it.
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We are driving all day to go visit my inlaws this weekend.
It is their 50th anniversary celebration. Hooray!
I'll be popping in to your blogs sometime this weekend when I can.
We get back home late Sunday night, and then Courtney has roto rooter sinus surgery on Monday.
I'll get back into the blog swing on Tuesday.

Sweet Tea, Please

One thing I discovered while spending a lot of time in GA, SC, and NC is sweet tea.
We drank a lot of iced tea during the summer and fall months when I was growing up in CA, but ours was not sweetened.
My mom's tea was so weak it looked like creek water.
We were on vacation visiting some of my dad's family in MO, and Old Johnny was fixing to fry catfish in a big vat. My mom decided to make ice tea. She brought it out for everyone, and Old Johnny took a drink and said to his wife, "This is good ice tea, Loudeen. You make yours so strong you can float a doorknob in it."
Well, I got used to liking sweet tea, especially after I tasted the best iced tea ever. Jestine's in Charleston, SC has the best iced tea you will ever drink. When I eat there, I drink so much of it that I have to pee every ten minutes for the next three hours.
I drink a lot of tea, iced and hot. Here is one of my favorites: American Classic Tea which comes straight from Charleston, SC and can be purchased at CharlestonTeaGardens.com. (If you find out that their tea is actually shipped from China, DO NOT tell me.)
When I first walked along the streets of Charleston and Savannah, I knew I was meant to be a refined, southern lady.
I imagined myself in a flowing dress with a paper fan in one hand and a sweet iced tea in the other. I was strolling through my garden and saying something like, "It is so wahhm. Ahh'm pahhched."
We moved awhile back, and technically, I live in the south, but not the southern belle south.
I live in the redneck-honey-I-found-a-ten-dollar-bill-let's-have-another-young'un south.

We're not in CA Anymore

For the rest of this week, I'll be posting tidbits about the state we're living in. I'm not doing this for you to guess where we are, I am just doing it because it's fun.

Our dentist has a Dalmation painted on the wall of the office with these words coming from the dog's mouth:
Brush good! Don't miss any spots.
I have the insatiable desire to sneak in there at night with some paint and make a grammatical correction:
Brush well! The gooder your teeth will look.

They don't have toilet seat protectors in the bathrooms here. Courtney is especially annoyed about this.
I told her to just take the sleeve of her shirt and give the toilet seats a good rub down before putting her butt cheeks to porcelain. That will eliminate the chance of sitting on a wet toilet seat. And ladies, you know how awful THAT can be.

At the airport (located in the big city over yonder), the signs do not say, "Baggage Claim."
They say, "Bag Claim."
When my parents arrived for a visit, my dad laughed and said, "Bag claim?"
He pointed at my mom and said, "I claim this bag right here."
You kind of had to be there, but it was funny.

Witness Protection Program

I know you are wondering why we've moved so much over the past couple of years.
Well, I've decided to spill the beans.
I can name names. I bugged phones & had hidden cameras. I caught many famous people in the seven deadly sins.

1. Gluttony - Jerry Falwell
( I have footage of him at a Chinese Buffet that will sicken you.)
2. Lust - Bill Clinton
(I sent a bugged prostitute to proposition him, but he propositioned her before she even had a chance.)
3. Pride - Martha Stewart
(I have proof that she answers all questions with the same response, "I Am that I Am.")
4. Greed - Anna Nicole Smith
(I have a taped phone conversation where she admits she was seeking out very rich, very old men to marry. About her late husband, she said, "I loved him to death.")
5. Envy - Dolly Parton
(I retrieved a letter from the trash that she wrote to Celine Dion admitting she was envious of Celine's flat chest and stick thin figure. "Curves are overrated.")
6. Anger - Howard Dean
(You all remember the public, primal scream, but I have footage of Howard beating a homeless man half to death because the guy, "...looked like a Republican.")
7. Sloth - Dick Cheney
(There are two Cheney look-a-likes that do all his speeches for him. Dick has not actually attended a single meeting for over two years. He does nothing but drink beer and go hunting. I have proof that he shot three other people, but the secret service was able to make all of those look like suicides.)

Now, you know the truth.
The powerful people above are looking to take me out, that means kill me.
That's why we are in the Witness Protection Program.
Now that I've told YOU, you are in danger.
I suggest you change your name, move to some obscure town, and try and blend in.

Gay as the Driven Snow

Yes, as the post title suggests, I once said that someone was "gay as the driven snow."
Courtney and I had hair appointments this past Thursday with our gay hairstylists.
Elijah talked my leg off and hardly took a breath.
He talked about everything from Brokeback Mountain to the horrific, medieval torture of his mouth surgery to how all the problems in Africa have been caused by the Westernized World to his nearly-dead granddaddy in Alabama.
It was a colorful, very animated, mostly one-sided conversation peppered with "You know what I'm sayin'?" and "You know, an' so..." throughout.
Courtney's stylist was in the St. Patrick's Day parade driving a car carrying our state's beauty pageant winner.
The parade was so much fun. They threw beaded necklaces and candy from the floats, and a bread company threw rolls.
The "floats" were small town kind of floats which means mostly cars with balloons and stuff stuck on them.
The most exciting parts of the parade were the Irish Elvis's who were on motorcycles & a group of ample-sized belly dancers who jostled their bodacious bods down the street without an ounce of inhibition. A little inhibition would have been a good thing.
It was 6:30 p.m. when the parade started and a very drunk guy next to me started singing, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." His wife was plastered as well, and she was crying out to the Celebrity Grand Marshall of the parade, "I LOVE you!" The celebrity guest was someone you would all know, but wouldn't give a hoot about seeing.
As Courtney put it, "I really can't stand that guy!"
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There's an unrelated thing that is annoying me.
I don't like it when people say a hard "g" sound on words like wing, song, rang, etc...
They pronounce sing like this: singuh
You see what I mean about the hard "g" sound?
Taylor has a friend who does this.
It shouldn't bug me, but it does.

Weekend Joke Fest

Let's have some good laughs this weekend.
Share the funniest (or corniest) jokes you know.

Corny joke: What do moles drink?
Punch line: Hole milk.

Funny joke I stole from Old Hoss: An old lady is sitting in church. She leans over to her husband and says, "I just let a silent but deadly fart. What should I do?"
He replies, "Get a better hearing aid."

Another funny: The description for a movie in the TV guide was supposed to say, "This is a portrait of a fun, but flawed, family." Here's what was printed, "This is a portrait of a fun, butt flawed, family."

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!
Q: How did the Irish Jig get started?
A: Too much to drink and not enough restrooms.

I hope the luck of the Irish is with you this weekend.

Turtle Sanctuary

This past September, my hubby rescued two turtles from the middle of the road. Beside them were less fortunate turtles who had met violent deaths by autos. My hubby, the turtle hero, swooped up these turtles and brought them to me. That was their lucky day! The smaller turtle is Irwin-Sheldon-Maynard-Ross (because the four of us could not agree on a name), and the larger one is General Sherman. If you care to see a HUGE version of the picture, just click on it. General Sherman is hamming for the camera.Since then, I've kept each in their own private aquariums, away from man's evil tires. It was God's will they were rescued from certain death. These are holy turtles, sacred, chosen. They make all of Turtledom proud. These are not ordinary turtles. Both turtles do tricks. They do this one where they make their heads go in and out, in and out EVERY time I walk up to them. That's talent, my friends.
Taylor and I built them a sanctuary. I am proud to show you, The Turtle Temple: We went through several architectural blueprints before settling on this design. Notice the two swimming pools? That big, white thing is a trash can on its side where they can have privacy and protection from the elements. Building this was a grueling, physical task as well as a labor of love. Not only was it hard work, but our dog, Simba, slimed me several times during the process. Simba is a slime machine, and she is jealous of the sacred turtles. Look at Simba's face. You don't think she will harm the holy turtles do you?

Inappropriate Laughter

There are times when laughing is not the appropriate thing to do, but you can't suppress it.
1. When I was in seventh grade, my friend and I were walking around the soccer field. All of a sudden, bird poop landed on her head. We're not talking about a little speck; it was a gooey mess. She got angry at me for laughing, but I can't imagine NOT laughing at something like that. Can you?
2. My brother, Jason, and I were in church listening to one of many eternal sermons. Then something hilarious happened. The pastor said, "... and Abraham sat on his ass..." We nearly exploded with pent-up laughter. It's hard to laugh and not make noise. Our whole pew was shaking.
3. My mom was selling raffle tickets at the local mall as a church fundraiser. All day long, she said, "Would you like to enter your name in our raffle?" A lady with a noticeably large nose walked by, and my mom said, "Would you like to enter your nose... I mean your name in our raffle?" My mom was mortified. It was hitonious & hilarious at the same time.
4. Just a couple of weeks ago, we were shopping for a couch, and the salesman was showing us a couch that could come apart into three sections. He said, "These sections all distatch." My hubby egged the guy on, "Oh, really. They all distatch, huh?" The guy went on telling us all about the "distatch" feature. I kept turning away, pretending to be looking at other furniture to try and hide my laughter.
5. I must admit that I laughed when I heard that VP Cheney had shot his friend in a hunting accident. It was more incredulous laughter than actually laughing about the injury, which was not a funny thing at all. All I kept thinking was, "Boy! Leno, Letterman, and Stewart are going to have a heyday with this!

Vocabulary Lesson

I'm on a mission to get hitonious into the dictionary.
If people start using it, then Webster will have to acknowledge it.
It is pronounced hit-own-ee-us.
If the words hideous or horrendous suffice, then the situation is not hitonious. Hitonious is reserved for the worst of the worst.

Having diarrhea is horrendous. Not making it to the toilet in time is hitonious.

Finding a hair in your soup is hideous. Finding a bandaid in your sandwich is hitonious.

Having bronchitis is hideous. Trying to eat a meal when a guy at the next table is hocking up a lung is hitonious.

Having a monthly period is horrendous. Having your period leak through your white pants is hitonious.

Body odor is hideous. Walking into a store aisle and unsuspectingly entering a thick fog of odor that smells like a burrito supreme with extra onions that has been in a hot car all day with the windows rolled up is hitonious.

Hitonious is a wonderful word! Regular usage of hitonious has been proven to reduce stress, regrow hair, shrink love handles, and cure rectal fissures.
Use it freely and often, and tell a friend.

Girls' Night Out: Bonding

Courtney and I went to Chili's on Saturday night, and YES, I had that molten, lava, chocolate dessert.
Here's some of our conversation:

Courtney: If the deficit is such a big problem, then why don't we just sell North Dakota and Wyoming to Canada? States like that could be blown off the map, and hardly anyone would notice.
Me: Uh-huh.
C: Like this state we're living in right now. Who LIVES here?
Me: Uh, we do.
C: Well, there's nothing here, and we need to move.
Me: Where else do people deep-fry pickles & corn on the cob?
C: You are making my point for me.

C: Mom, your jacket is hideous. (Notice the usage of the word hideous. Like mother, like daughter.)
Me: This is an Isaac Mizrahi blazer from Target.
C: Isaac Who?
Me: He's a famous fashion designer. That means I'm hip.
C: I can hardly hear you. You need a bullhorn.
Me: I'm hip!
C: When did you buy it?
Me: A couple of years ago, I think.
C: Well, it was hideous then, and it is hideous now.

C: I've been thinking of getting into inventing.
Me: (Blank stare)
C: It's hard.

Jamie Dawn 101

I've been blogging since April 7, 2005.
Some of you have known me since the beginning.
Take this ten question quiz called Jamie Dawn 101.
Guaranteed fun for those who know me well and for those who don't.

Those who flunk this quiz will need to read this blog more often.
It's proven that regular doses of JD will add years to your life.*
Enjoy your weekend!

*Disclaimer: Those years may be filled with anguish, and you may wish you were dead.

Ch-Ch-Changes

I'm noticing some differences between 22 year old Jamie Dawn and 42 year old Jamie Dawn:

1. 22 year old JD could eat pizza and hot fudge sundaes and still fit into her skinny jeans. 42 year old JD doesn't own any skinny jeans.

2. 22 year old JD had a normal sized bladder. 42 year old JD has a thimble sized bladder.

3. 22 year old JD was eager. 42 year old JD looks before she leaps.

4. 22 year old JD wore high heels. 42 year old JD wears medium heels or tennis shoes, and keeps her high heels in the car to gouge out the eyes of would be attackers.

5. 22 year old JD laughed a lot, used the word hitonious, always wore a seatbelt, and loved chocolate.
Some things never change.

Note: I may not own any skinny jeans, but I'm happy to report that my fat jeans are loose now. I can take my formerly snug jeans off WITHOUT unbuttoning them OR unzipping them. Yes, you read that right. Those babies slip right off with ease.
From now on, you can call me Snake Hips.

M.I.L.D.E.W. & Side Effects

A blogger simply called Daughter-In-Law left a comment over the weekend.
Her blog is called MILDEW.
I visited her site and found it to be quite funny.
MILDEW stands for Mother-In-Laws Do Everything Wrong. This lady has a terrible mother-in-law.
Her blog is a safe haven to spew about her MIL without fear of retribution.
Currently, she has four other contributors who like to vent about their mother-in-laws. Or is it mothers-in-law?.
She is looking for others who'd like to join the MILDEW Chorus.
If you need a place to unload your MIL woes, this is the place to do it.
If, like me, you like to read about the often humorous misery of others, then this is the place to do it.
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My post called Beware of Disclaimers was pretty funny, but it inspired McKay to write a much funnier, dare I say brilliant, post called Side Effects. Her post is a MUST read.

Bashing Blogger Club

I've read people's angry posts against Blogger, and I always thought, "What's the big deal? So, there's an occasional blip now and then."
After enduring Blogger abuse firsthand, I've changed my tune! I humbly beg the forgiveness of those of you who have suffered the torments of Blogger's dark side.
I was so wrong to minimize your pain. I now feel your pain because I too have "Post" Traumatic Blogger-Induced Stress Syndrome. You are not alone.
I posted on Sunday afternoon and had no problems. I slept peacefully that night.
Ignorance was bliss but short lived.
On Monday morning, I went to check my comments and was met with a big "Forbidden" sign.
What?! I'm forbidden from my own blog? What in tarnation is going on??!!
I was able to go to my Blogger dashboard, but when I tried to republish my blog, it said, "Error."
When I clicked on "Details," it said it couldn't find Jamie Dawn's Mindless Blather. BUT I WAS STARING AT THE DASHBOARD OF JD'S MINDLESS BLATHER!!!!
"Hello! It exists. I'm LOOKING AT IT!"
I tried to repost. No luck. It wouldn't work.
That's when it happened.
I became ultra annoyed.
After throwing back several shots of Jack Daniels as well as a few snorts of Wild Turkey, my ultra annoyed level dropped to mildly annoyed.
As a matter of fact, I knew I was mad about something, but I couldn't remember what it was.
Later, I remembered why I was madder than a frenzied hornet, and I tried a few more times to republish.
Finally, as I was setting up an IV bag filled with vodka, Blogger allowed me to republish my blog, and the problems were resolved. My pineapple template and I were reunited, forbidden no more.
I have now started the Bashing Blogger Club.

Rock Album Cover

Introducing:
The Four Nerds

I posted this pic yesterday. Blogger was all messed up for me today. I lost that post, and could not even get into my own blog. I hope this post goes through.
Sorry to those who stopped by, but your comments are gone too.

Hows & Bys With a Twist

We played the Hows & Bys game a couple of weekends ago. If you already know how to play, skip this paragraph and go down to find out about the added twist to this weekend's game. I used to play Hows & Bys as a kid. We would write down a bunch of questions beginning with "How," and a bunch of answers beginning with "By." Then we'd put the Hows in one box and the Bys in another, and shake them up. We'd pick from the How box and read aloud, followed by a reading from the By box. It was great fun. We'd end up with silly questions & ridiculous answers.

Here's the FUN twist:
Incorporate food into your Bys & Hows.

BEFORE you go to the comments:
1. Think of an ANSWER that starts with "By," such as "By making toast."
2. Think of a QUESTION that begins with "How, " such as "How do you frost a cake?"

In the comments, post your "By" and then your "How."
Like this:

By making toast.
How do you frost a cake?

In the comments, I've started things off with a How.
Now, you post a By followed by a How.
Confused? Read the comments and you'll catch on.
Have fun and come back as many times as you want!

Peeeeewwwwww!

I have smelled some pretty bad things over the years. I decided to list four of the worst smells that I have ever had the unfortunate occasion of smelling. I hope you will share your worst olfactory experiences.
1. Years ago, a skunk died under our mobile home while we were away for several days. When we got home, the smell was so bad, it was impossible to stay in the house. Poor Hubby had to crawl under the house and remove the skunk. He kept coming out from under the house, gagging and dry heaving before he finally was able to get the job done.
2. When we were newly married, we lived in South Dakota and we toured the communal farm of some Hutterites. Hutterites are similar to the Amish. We toured their hog houses. The smell was so hitonious that it didn't completely wash out of our hair and skin for several days. With each shower, the smell would emit from our pores and hair. It took a few days for it go away.
3. We used to live about ten miles from a rendering plant. Local farmers would put their dead, bloated cows alongside the road and the plant trucks would pick them up. Once, while I was driving home, I ended up behind a truck from the plant. Liquid started flying out of the truck and landing all over my car and windshield. I can't describe how ghastly that smell was.
4. KimChi breath. When Courtney and I were in Korea, we were constantly assaulted by Koreans with kimchi breath. Kimchi is cabbage that is seasoned to death and then allowed to ferment. It causes killer breath. Our only recourse was to eat kimchi in defense.

Beware of Disclaimers

On TV, disclaimers are always said in a sing-songy voice:
"You may grow another head or your liver may disintegrate, and there have been cases of eyeballs falling out."

Or sometimes the disclaimers are read really fast:
"Huge-tumors-and-loss-of-brain-function-have-occurred."

There's a TV commercial about the drug Humira that treats Rheumatoid Arthritis. My bestest friend in the whole world suffers from RA, so I listened carefully to it.
Here are the exact words of their disclaimer which is spoken like a kindergarten teacher reading to her class:
"Do not start Humira if you have an infection such as an open sore or the flu. There have been rare reports of serious and sometimes fatal infections and tuberculosis, blood disorders, nervous system disorders, serious allergic reactions, and lymphoma have occurred."

They dropped that lymphoma part right at the end there, hoping we wouldn't notice.

"Sore throat, itching, minor rashes, and nausea have occurred; oh, and there have been some horrible deaths by veins shriveling up and entrails exploding and falling out onto the floor."