Monday, March 13, 2006

Blogging twice in the same day is a sign of a sick mind.

So, my daughter gets her permit. *chokes*

Hubby lets her drive to Monroe, a large, and crappily laid out city, on the interstate, through all the dang idiotic traffic lights, etc. *blink blink*

After the screaming and stomping of the imaginary brake on my hubby's side of the car, we arrive at ... DUN DUN DUNNNNN! The HELLMOUTH! *insert assorted screams of torment here*

After my hubby finally uncurls himself from the fetal position, hollers at me that I SHALL be buying him a large beer for when/if we make it home.

Anyhoodlie doodlie, I'd called my mother and she was meeting us at said Hellmouth to tell us hello on her way to her Mecca, Stein-torment.. *coughs* She is there, at the front of the store when we get in, I see her right away, which is a miracle in itself. *ponders the irony of a miracle in the Hellmouth*

We yak a few minutes, hubby has run off to the baseball cards section of the store to drool. Mother takes my daughter to the dogfood with her while I run over to grab some shampoo and meet her there. All is going well.. until..


I catch up with my mother and she has this LOOK on her face. The one that states someone will be hurting in a bad way very very very soon.

Note: I say I am in Hellmouth, yet, I say it jokingly. At no time did I expect that Devil Daddy would be there with his Crazed Concubine. I mean, they live over 35 miles away, why not go to the nearer grocery store and Hellmouth in that Parish? Why would your insane in the membrane ass come to this store knowing that we go there as well? Is Devil Daddy stalking me? If so, he screwed up cause Tiny Terror aka My MOTHER was there as well.

Imagine the scenario if you would, please, step inside THE REDNECK ZONE:

Let me remind you that you have entered a place where reality is not the norm. A place that sometimes, oooh sometimes, is frickin scary indeed. This is the place where EVERYBODY not only knows your name, but more than likely shares if not your maiden name, then your married one. (Think Cheers sans the beer as we're all Baptists and *don't* drink *snorts*) Yes, I am speaking of those lovely outlaws know as your inlaws.

Can you say, "wellllll shit!!!" You can't? It's ok, I did it for ya! *smiles*

In the Redneck Zone it is possible to walk up one aisle, see your uncle, walk down another, see a 3rd cousin twice removed. ad infinitum ad nauseum ad pukitupitus

It's also possible, plausible, you know, more than likely going to happen that your divorced parents could and would duke it out in the Hellmouth. If this highly likely event should occur, please, place your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye! My mother's hair stood up on the top of her head, she looked like an angry little dandelion. Her lips were pressed into such a tight line, I doubt I could have hammered a dime between them.

She uttered the words, "Your f**kin father is IN this store." and sucked in her breath. I swear she pulled four bags of chips off the shelf with that one suck of air.

Please be advised: We don't speak to the man, or his wife for reasons that I will not go into. However, they are good reasons, and we've been sticking by them for about 3 years now.

My worst nightmare is running into him in public place where he or his insane assed wife could make a scene. Imagine my surprise when Redneck Reality was even worse with the addition of my mother, the one that shall NOT be pissed off without dire consequences being paid.

Oh yes, just what I wanted: my picture in the Redneck Hall of Shame:

Here is Jenn; her parents engaged in a battle in the aisles of the Hellmouth, the mother was of course the victor (well, dur!) she took out his right kidney with a melon baller she appropriated from the kitchen gadget section. During this impromptu organ removal she was heard to yell in a loud and carrying voice: TAKE THAT YOU BIG SMELLY BASTARD, AND DON'T YOU GO NOWHERE CRAZY BITCH CAUSE YOU'RE NEXT! I'M GIVING YOU A LOBOTOMY! MOOHAHAHAHA MOOHAHAHAHA MOOOOOOAHAAHAHAH!

And then, you'd see my picture. Maybe I'd get a little plaque, I wonder if I could draw disability too? Mmm..

Redneck Reality TV.. come on down but beware, more than prices are falling at



PS: That cat is soo my mama. *sighs*


Karen said...

Oh, I've never been so glad to live where I live, LOL. Although it would be fun to hide in the aisles and snap pics of Redneck Wars with my camera phone. Go Jenn and the Mama!

FeyRhi said...

You know I could have swore I felt a tremour in the earth all the way up here...I wonder if that was your mama opening a big ole can or whoop a@@?? I gotta ask did she plan to useing the melon-baller for the labotomy? Personally I always thought that a lemon zester would work better under those circumstances.

Mary Stella said...

So, umm, Jenna -- now that you described in vivid, torturous detail what COULD happen... don't leave us hanging.

Did they run into each other? Was it the smackdown of all Hellmouth smackdowns?

Deb said...

Yes tell us what your Mama did to her ex

Mechele Armstrong said...

LOL that picture cracks me up. And wowsa on the trip to Hellmart.