Saturday, December 31, 2005
species of redneck known as Jenn.
Or, if you are bored and wanna waste time, go ahead, have a ball. Make one of your own and email it to me!
Thursday, December 29, 2005
But why do I have it? I don't mean the things you get from your friends, associates or even slim acquaintances. I mean this crap you get from some jacked up porn site that you've spent your life being blissfully ignorant of, well, that game's over. Pfth!
Today I got a few emails worthy of a rant. One I got from Paypal in an account used strictly for business. I have no paypal account with this email, therefore I knew it was a fake. However, it looks very official despite all that. I have a paypal account, and my password is..
Well, it ain't spam, that's for sure. Pah!
Others that I get have this sort of subject.
Grow it larger: are they talkin veggies? If so, I suspect they mean the root variety *snicker*
Jendirectmeds: If my name or part of it is in the title, I am sooo gonna trust em. If they but knew the types of meds I actually take, they'd run far far away never to trifle with me again. Yeah, whatever, I hope they read my blog and I scare the crap outta em at least.
Herbal Viagra: Dude, you put your weed in where? :O LMAO
Nasty $mutty teans (the actual spelling, so we know what they've been doin w/them fingers to make em all fumblin and all): Does the little dollar sign make it funkier, jazzier, less like porn and not only porn but apparently illegal porn if they are beneath the age of 18? If so, where is the freakin FBI when I need them? Teen porn is illegal right? Mm.. is this one of those Catch 22 things? What a quandary.
And last but certainly not least
Booty Call: *blinks* Booty call? WTF is that? Do I look like someone that actually answers my phone much less for a flippin booty call? I'm married with a kid, an evil ass kid that makes me wish never to have sex again and p'raps have yet another evil kid. No, she's not that bad, ok, yes, she is! Pah! anyhoo, booty call my er.. ass! Idiots, twanks and nonspellers!!
Hell, they even spammed my blog. But apparently setting the antispam thing stops them. Or else, they are too damn lazy to type in that wiggly code that's up there when you go to comment. Not only are they annoying, but they are also lazy. For shame you spammers!!
If Seuss where alive today, would he have written this book instead?
To: Sam I am
Subject line: Spam
I will not read the spam
I will not read it on a train
I will not read it on a plane
I will not read it in a car
I will not read it from a jar
I will not read it with my eyes
I will not read it with all the lies
I will not read the spam
Who likes the real spam grilled with cheese
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Warning: The definition of Blah is to feel bad. However, it starts with a b, so ,Jenn uses her blah feelings as a reason to bitch. Not that she actually needs one. Long ass bitch session to follow.
The cartoon is called Invader Zim. Maybe I have the alien flu or somthing. Whatever it is, I feel like ick. I have a fever, I'm congested, coughing, sniffling, sneezing, etc. I sound like the before person on a Nyquil commercial! Gah! *coughs* I wonder if this puter can catch this virus? *spritzes with the Lysol, just in case* Pause.. *coughs up kidney from the spraying of the Lysol*
Anyhoo, I got an xray. Well, I was told in not so many words to go away and take my plague ridden ass far far from them all. Yes, I was lynched. However, I had to go grocery shopping, there was no food in my house(according to my hubby the hawg) But, he'd decided that seein how I am the sweetest of all wives (haaaa! snort.. *coughs*) he wanted to take me out to eat. *blink* I am sick, I can taste nothing at all, therefore, being Rednecks of the Cajun persuasion we decide on Mexican. This is based on the premise that hot ass food will kill any and all germs, open up your pores and allow the ill humors to be leeched from you body. Ok, so, that aint how Meemaw put it, but you get my drift.
So, here we are, in an area eatery. When asked smoking or non, I reply, smoking. Oh, shut the hell up! I am sick, yes, I am! I don't want to hear how bad ciggies are for me. I can tell you this, you tellin me how bad they are for me is much more hazardous to YOUR health. So, chill out, smoke a ciggie, it will help ya relax, honest. Well, they lead us to the back forty, otherwise known as the smoking section. I sit down and immediately realize its about 40 degrees in this damn place. I ask if we can move, promising that I will not light up my damn cancer stick until I reach the confines of my vehicle. The only other two patrons laugh and say sarcastically. "Too damn cold for ya huh hon?" *cocks brow* Their lips are blue whilst pursed round their Marlboro 100's. Fortunately before I get a chance to answer, we are moved...
To the flippin Leper section!! It isn't cold, but its quiet, too quiet. I'm quite sure this is the part of the restaurant where someone was hanged or shot or some eerie business. I'm eating my chips and salsa wondering if I'm next. The tv is tuned to the National Geo. Channel, too, another ominous sign? Yeah, the animal documentary is on, there is a big ass huge snake eatin some equally big ass huge bird. Do they think they can kill the appetite of not one but two master gourmands? Well, think again, darling. I'm scarfin the salsa n chips, and I make the comment to the hubby, "This stuff aint even hot today, mmph." All proud of the fact that I've not gulped down half my Diet coke.
He gasps out an answer and I look up to see sweat on his brow and his eyes are bugged out. Immediately I think OMG Zombie's done et Bill's legs. Preparing to launch myself out of the booth.
What? Honey, I don't have to run faster than the zombies, I just gotta run faster than YOUR ass if they are after us. Then I see him pointing at the salsa. "Yes.. it is hot. You are insane." He finally gets out. I happily shrug and pretty much drink my salsa. (erm, for future reference, don't do this dumbass shit. just cause you can't taste it, don't mean you won't FEEL it later on in the evening.) So, with large brass boobs, I am the great Redneck spicy food champeen, I continue to be a dumbass.
Then, they bring the cheese (ooh slurp drool yes) and we eat and yumm yumm yumm. Then the food. I have fajitas w/shrimp, chicken and beef combo. I aint a pig, its called carry out, I am a future meal planner. So, we eat, and share off each others plates, etc. Then this kid comes running in and out and in and out yelling at some freaking old barn door at the end of the booths, screamin about a scary lady (oh shit! freakin scary? wah? *shrugs* I have salsa, I will dash it in her eyes and run like hell. It burns! It burns! I imagine so, cow, JALAPENOS!! YEHAW!)
Since, they've pissed me off, they aint getting a tip. I am a good tipper, I was a cook and a waitress and I know how that shit is. But they've shit in their financial nest if they think they're getting their 15% from this pissed off chicky that was froze out of the smoking lodge.
Then, it hits. The tummy cramp to end all tummy cramps. I haven't even eaten a third of the fajitas.
Dear Lord in heaven, Habanaro is not thy name, Thy Kingdom come, on earth as it is in pepper chili head heaven.
GAH! Suddenly I recall a salient fact. I haven't eaten since the night before. And that was a simple bowl of hot an sour soup (sensing a theme?) I have no coating on my poor abused stomach, I mean, I'm the lil girl that ate longhorns at my daddy's knee. I have a jar of jalapenos stockpiled in case of emergencies. Salsa is good on black eye peas, mm and a multitude of other things. Pepper sauce is on every table for as far as the eye can see. This aint Cajun Country yall, it's more Hot Sauce in the City.
So, I wince. Hubby freaks and goes to pay the bill while I pile my leftovers into a handy dandy container for private consumption. (near my toilie is the operative term here) He comes back with a frown on his face.
He waits til we're in the car to inform me that we were grossly overcharged. Hubby is nonconfrontational. I am too, usually. However, if he's learned nothing else in our 8 years of marriage, it's this: A sick Jenn will hurt you. She will cut you all the while smiling maniacally and giggling an insane clown giggle that is akin to nails screaming down a chalkboard.
I get a fever and I am pretty much out of my gourd. I go a bit off, get rabid, I lose my volume control and shit happens. Think Tequila and lots of it. I'm drunk, in other words. I don't drink, at all, alcohol interferes with some meds I take so, I am a tee totaler. However, you can be fever drunk, don't think ya can't.
Then, he stupidly takes me into the Walmart. Please note, this place and I have shared a long and varied history littered with, if not bodies, then words, foot stomps, purposeful product misplacement (on both our parts. Yeah, I am just petty enough to stick can goods into the men's shoes.) and bitching, ranting, and raving about crap from the temp in the store (too hot) My theory is that it's next door to a hellmouth, that's why its so damn hot there, hence the name of HellMART! *scary echo here* Bloody concubines of the devil go sashaying down the aisle in their satanic red vests. You think they are there to help. Well think again, oh innocent Hellmart Virgin. Ye shall be sacrificed to the gods of commerce on an alter that has tasted the blood of millions. The term squeezing blood from a turnip comes to mind, and YOU just fell off the turnip truck baby!
I tell you this in all honesty: I love kids (long as I aint gotta deal w/em for long periods of time) I like old peeps (long as I aint gotta deal w/em for long periods of time) I love people, well, you get my drift. However, don't bring your ADD, Hyperass/badass/loudass/freakozoid chaps up in the damn store and let them run around like chickens with their heads cut off. I can't see them if they are short, they are apt to be run over 'accidentally' by my shopping cart. Aw.
And if you are old, don't get in that damned chair and canoodle around the Walmart like a Sunday driving twit with all the time in the world. Your asses are retired, I have a job, I'm jealous in the first place. Plus you're draining all the Medicare I pay in by living your life of leisure.. that's two strikes. I will take your old geriatric ass out, get the hell outta my way!
If your ass is larger than 2 ft wide, place it either to the left or the right of the aisle. Do NOT put it out in the center so I can't get around it. I will take your ass out! I have can goods, they are potential weapons of mass destruction. The mass bein your ass when I shove these green beans right on up there! *growls*
Then there was Books A Million. Book Nazi has the flu! HAAAA! *shakes ass at her* *coughs*
Nobody died, this time. There is always next time though.. in the JennZone. Yeah, that music is scary, but then again, so am I!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Not really. See, the south is not prepared for such things. Not my neck of the woods anyway. I mean, it looks pretty on TV, and if it stays just on the grass, it's pretty here. However, we don't really do snow down here. We get icy rain, sleet, and snow all mixed. It half melts in the day, then at night refreezes to resemble that fondant icing on those fancy cakes these days. Only, make the fondant slicker than whale shit and harder then all get out and you have what we get.
We don't have snowplows, snowmobiles and all that stuff. Heck, we're stupid enough to tie the hood of a car (yall know we keep in the yard for just such a reason) to a bigfoot truck and go if not sledding, then Street Skiing.
The cops watch, the EMT's just wait. *CRASH* Then all sorts of redneck yellin, cussin, and laughing. If its bad, then its praying.
So, if we have a White Christmas, I am gonna turn into the Grinch, hitch poor Zoe to a car hood and we are going to my mama's come hell or high water. Too bad the river don't freeze, then I could just walk across.
I'm a Mean One,
Monday, December 12, 2005
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Every where you go..
La la whatever.
Pretty, huh? That's the Gallaria Mall in TX, at least I think it is. I haven't been there in a long time.
The last time I went, I was 8 or so. It seemed so big then. I was much smaller, of course.
Well it's almost time. Just a few more days and it will be present swapping, wassel drinking, baby kissing, candy making *gasp* and all the good stuff.
My favorite thing is spending time with my family. I love my mama and my aunts, uncles and cousins. My little bro? Well, I guess him too, after all he gave me the babies. I soo think they are the bestest in the world.
How do you spend Christmas? With family or with loved ones. At a home, or on the town? Will you be working?
Also, take some time to think of our troops STILL over in the sandtrap. That must royally suck. Hope they come home soon, safe and sound.
So, be careful, have a good time, eat lots, and above all.
SPREAD THE JOY!!
Jenn the Redneck Reindeer
Friday, December 09, 2005
The stockings are hung, the tree is trimmed, the pressies are wrapped,
and parent's is skint!
Big bucks shelled out for crap they play with for a week then tear up and throw away. Or, they don't like it, it don't fit, and YOU have to go back and exchange it.
My favorite part of Christmas is opening the presents. However, what do you do when the whole thing is over, besides paying the bills, that is. We like to just vege out on the couch; and lie to ourselves stating we will start earlier on the pressie buying for next year.
A lie, a rank untruth! Anyways, have a Merry Christmas, yall, the countdown has begun. Not much longer til the tinsel, mistletoe, wassel, carols, snow, lights and all will come to an end leaving you wondering why you feel so let down.
Santa's Favorite Ho Ho Ho
Monday, December 05, 2005
Fa la la la la la la la laaaa!!!!
Merry Christmas, tis the season for little bitty lights to be put up all over the place. The things are beautiful, for all that they are tiny and aggravating as all get out.
Each year, at Mama's they put up the lights, the decorations, the santas, the snowmen, all of it. Me? You're lucky if I put up a tree. Why? Lazy, basically. I love Christmas, but I don't like to decorate.
We have our tree up right now, with the lights and the angel on top. I don't have any ornaments on it because I can't find the darned things.
I've almost finished my shopping too. WOOHOOO. I got my mother's and hubby's out of the way, now the step father, the grandfather in law, and all that to go yet.
Oh, and get this, I have MY present out of the way too. *growls* I had to shop for my own present, hubby's are insane, you know.
Ho Ho Ho Yall.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Went to the Hellmart today. Hated it. Despise this time of year, all the screaming kids, the parents that tune them out, the freaks that like to cut me off with their buggies, the bitch of a checker that pissed me off not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES! I didn't kill her... they should have gave me free chocy at the door for that.
When you don't kill someone, you should get a reward. Like the Pavlov dog thing. I WANT MY NONMURDEROUS CHOCY YOU BASTARDS!!! *growls*
Now, to top the cotton. My exhusband's wife is getting a little pissy with my child. Tellin her she needs to call them. Well, she needs to learn, that phone works both ways. Have they sent my baby a Christmas, Birthday, or even a Are you still alive card. Any of this shit would have been nice. Unlike my child, YOU have a job, unlike my child YOU are an adult (exhubby is not much of one, hence the ex portion on the front of that) Oh, and hey, pay me a lil more child support and I might be able to afford the long distance phone call to YOUR house. Till then, piss off and die!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH. Tis the season to be killin...
La lalalalaallaaaaaaaaaaaaallaa la la la *bang* *gag* *gurgle* *thump*
Love yall, but please stay well beyond the perimeter of my cage, I am in a biting mood.