Posts Tagged ‘hick


Chocolate Ranting Dust Bunny Lovin’ Dear So and So Friday

Dear So and So...



Dear Readers,

Someone pissed in Mama’s Cheerios this week, don’t take it personal.  I am just a crabby pants.  Might have something to do with the humongous hormone surge coursing through my veins, but I am over it anyway.  Trust me so are others that are over it too, you aren’t the only one.  So bear with me on my rant today.  I will try to throw in some humor and niceties too.  Promise.

Love you for sticking with me,



Dear Ovaries,

Today is the big day.  Even though I know you didn’t get the medicine you were SUPPOSED to get last night because the doctors in this po-dunk town are effing STUPID and didn’t give me enough, please, please, please let Mama get some good news today.

Much apprech,



Dear Fertility “Specialist”,

I am trying.  Like REALLY, really trying.  PLEASE. DO. NOT. MAKE. ME. SMACK. YOU.





Today when I looked up “Kapeesh”  in your database to see if I was spelling it right, I was pleasantly surprised to see that your definition shows The meaning is :If you don’t do this, your ass is mine.”  LOVE IT!!

You made my day,



Dear Hubby,

Seriously?? Seriously?

Bout ta smack ya,

Your wife



Dear Chocolate,

Why must you tempt me so?  Our relationship has gotten to a volatile state.  Your abuse is ruining my complexion and my love for you always keeps me coming back for more.  Please, for the love of me, remove your addiction from my brain. Eating an entire bag of your sweet, delicious peanut M&M’s is like 12318902512389057 calories, right?  So, please, I beg you.  Please.  Stop torturing me.  Please?

I will love you always,



Dear Sean,

Thank you gobs and gobs for messaging me on Facebook.  You have made my brain go into “Melancholy Overdrive” and I love it.  Fifteen years (gah! we are getting OLD) is far too long to have not heard from you.  I am so glad we have reconnected.




Dear Barnacle Baby,

I know you need me now,  but I do hope this is a passing phase.  (so do the dust bunnies building up in our house because of your little “show” of affection lately) Making Mommy hold you all day every day isn’t going to do wonderful things for your self esteem, especially if this goes on till you leave for college.  Your Prom date isn’t going to want Mommy there.  Just something to think about.

Love you,



Dear Readers,

Thank you for putting up with me today.  I do hope that you chose to participate in Dear So and So.  Just  click here to go to Kat’s Blog and get the button for your page.

Have a fantastic weekend!!!

Thanks for reading!!




Where the eff did these Carpet Dudes come from?!?!

Ok… Granted I live in Texarkana.  And usually that would be “nuff said”.  But oh no.  Not this time.  These guys show up and they do seem sort of nice.  They didn’t do anything flat out rude.  Other than making a TON of effing noise AFTER I put the baby to sleep for a nap but were as quiet as church mice prior to that.  But other than that, they were nice.  But some of the conversations were so funny, I literally had to hold my hand over my mouth to muffle the giggles.

First off, I made them open the doors and windows cause they were pouring this stuff on the ground to glue the pad down and it smelled SOOO bad.  So here is how that went:

Me:   what is that smell??

Carpet Dude:   oh that there is the glue fer yer pad

Me:   Well is it toxic? It smells really, really bad!  And I have a baby in here.

CD:   Uhh…

Me:   Does it say on the can that it is toxic?

CD:   (looking at the can) uhhh

Me:   Here, can I look?

CD:   (handing it over with relief) oh kay..

Me:   See, it says right here that it is Highly Flammable and should be used in a well ventilated area (pointing to the can)

CD:   Well… I been usin’ it fer years and I ain’t had no problems.

Me:   Open all the windows and doors.  Kay thanks.

Then I started to notice that the older guy must be the Boss Carpet Guy because he is bossing the younger carpet guy around while hovering over him and pointing.  So for the sake of argument, we will call the other guy Grunt Carpet Dude.

The funny part is that every time Boss Carpet Guy goes out front to SMOKE A CIGARETTE (omgIhadtoholdmyselfbackonthatone) the Grunt Carpet Dude mutters under his breath something about how nice it would be if he could take a break like the “old fucker” and smoke a cigarette even though they are making the same money.  Since I was hiding in my bedroom the entire time and they didn’t know I could hear their EVERY word on the baby monitor.  I didn’t say anything about it.  He was clearly trying to say it to himself and get out some pent up frustration.  Not to mention I thought it was heeeeelarious.  And then as soon as SMELLY Boss Carpet Guy struts back in (complete with nasty, stinky green cloud following him) the Grunt Carpet Dude is like his best friend again.  It was PRICELESS!

Then randomly I hear Boss Carpet Guy tell Grunt Carpet Dude… “No wonder California is goin’ broke! It’s cause of people like that there OCTO-Momma.”

To that I have nothing! Lol



about moi…

Hi, my name is Cass. I am married to an amazing man who loves me unconditionally. I’m a stay at home mom to a rockin’ 2 year old boy who I call Monkey. I have an 12 year old step-daughter who lives in another state. We miss her daily. We also have two fur babies, Daisy and Jazz, who keep us on our toes. They are awesome!

I am a complete goofball, a photographer and a constant out loud thinker. I am a grammar challenged, vulgar, cursing, sex obsessed Big Mama fumbling through life. Among other things, I battle PCOS causing infertility, Bi Polar, Anxiety and OCD.

Currently I am riding the fertility roller coaster in an attempt to make Monkey #2. This blog is about a little of everything. I hope you enjoy. Read at your own risk!


my photography page:


my validation!