Knee Slapping Times

Do tell! Do tell!

I'm right there with ya on the press conference scene if that had
been my Mister. Why, I'm not even sure I would have said he was even
in the hospital. Nope. I got big brothers. And I've got a slew of
'em. Nuff said.

Oh, the sheer madness and insanity of it all. How is that people
think they are above the law? How is that politicians seem not to
understand the law and what happens WHEN they get caught with THEIR
hands in the cookie jar? How is that a candidate can have 20 year
ties with someone as a mentor and not agree with them? Come on.
Hey, I've got some land for sale. And, I know widows in East Bumble.

Oh, better watch out for those noses-- they're gonna grow by miles,
not just inches.

Didcha enjoy St. Paddy's Day? We had to have our traditional meal
yesterday. What, with me being Irish and all. My mouth was just
salivating and I was having to lick my chops as I prepared the
standard corn beef, coddles and soda bread. I could have eaten it
all day. Wait-- maybe I did.

Although, I have to tell ya that I draw the line at green eggs. I
tried to eat them once when I was in Savannah for the big day. Just
couldn't do it. No sir. Just couldn't put molded eggs in my mouth.
Green grits? As long as they are the right shade of green, I'll
gobble them down. Just gotta watch out for when they are kinda black
and green.

You ladies ever go to Savannah for the big day? Ah, I used to love
it there. All the excitement. All the people. All the green beer.
All the waiting in line for bladder relief. Guess they should have
had those senior adult type unmentionables. Bet they would sell
right well down there. Better than finding a secluded spot. Not
that I'm saying I ever did....

All this talk of green is making my mouth water. Better go find some
fresh mint for my juice. Aren't you glad the weather is warming up
now? Soon, my little plot of mint will be prospering and ready to
pop into my juice. Do you prefer the spearmint or the peppermint for
your julep juice?

Whatcha making for Easter? Think I'll have some Sunday Bourban
Taters on my menu. And maybe a triple strawberry cake. Some fresh
soda bread with blue cheese butter. A little julep juice..... Ah--

Miss Etta

Spitzer, Democrats and Obama

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

What a mess of trouble the Democrats seem to be having.

First, I have to tell you how the press conference would have gone if I were married to New York Governor Spitzer.

"I'm not sorry to tell you that my SOB lying cheating husband is currently in the hospital and unable to stand on his own two feet to be here. It seems he accidentally walked into a door then fell down the stairs. If you need to contact him it's going to be difficult because he doesn't have a home at the moment, in fact, all that stuff surrounding me out here on the lawn happens to be his belongings.

"Feel free to paw through everything, like that now unlocked desk over there, to see if there are any more dark secrets that we'd ALL like to know about.

"Be sure not to knock over that "House for Sale" sign over near the curb.

Now, let me tell you what it's been like living with the arrogant, self-serving, pompous jerk who obviously doesn't give a damn about the children he fathered, after which I'll be more than happy to answer any and every question you might have."

It would go downhill from there 'cause I'd tell 'em whatever they wanted to know and I'd do it with a smile on my face.

First, before I did anything, yours truly would have the locks changed and move every penny of money I could into my own private account cause I'd be smart enough to figure out that my nice lifestyle just went down the proverbial toilet.

Now I could talk on and on about Spitzer (talk about what's in a name!), but all this mess with Obama is bordering on insane and I just have to throw in my few cents worth.

Tell me ladies, if your preacher started spouting stuff like Obama's preacher, just how long would you keep your pretty little tale ends sitting in the pew? I for one wouldn't be a member of a church where the preacher cursed, talked so hateful about people he didn't like and said America was damned by God. If the man or women talking from the pulpit is saying things that have to be bleeped on the radio and the news then I am not in church and I am not listening to a preacher.

My goodness, Obama CHOSE to listen to that hate mongering week after week. I was SHOCKED when I saw the video of that man in the pulpit. I heard Obama telling folks at some meeting that they'd be right at home in his church. I beg to differ Mr. Obama. I'm not adverse to a little fire and brimstone preaching at times, but that man wouldn't be MY minister. I'd be all about finding a different church if my fellow parishioners didn't band together to wash the minister's mouth out with soap and send him back for some more training, or better yet, send him packing.

You don't go sit in a church Sunday after Sunday if you don't agree with what the minister is saying. There are just too many choices these days, why there's a church on every corner and a flavor for everyone. Mr. Obama keeps talking about Hillary Clinton's judgement on the war. Humph. What about his judgement in choosing the church and minister he affiliates with? I think that is much more important than a one-time vote any day as it speaks of core values and the heart. It speaks to his outlook on life, the basis of his decision making process and what has shaped his values.

The press pussy foots around when they're talking about things to do with Obama, too. Everyone is SO delicate about how they talk about issues when it involves someone with a different color skin. What a bunch of hooey. I could care less whether someone is black, yellow, white or green for that matter. Actions are what count, and your heart, your concern, your core.

I want a President who LOVES our country and wants it to be better. I don't want a President who isn't proud of this great country. I want a President who would walk out of a church where the minister said the United States was DAMNED by GOD. And I want a President who's spouse is PROUD to live in our country, someone who sees the positive instead of the negative.

Talk is cheap. Well, it's cheap unless you're being paid as much as former President Bill Clinton! I'd take one speaking engagement at his prices a year and be happy.

But I digress. I am going to stop talking about Obama's preacher and the issue of race before I step over that imaginary line that turns me into a target if I haven't already done so. It's just a shame that we can't talk freely any more.

I do find it ironic that the Democrats are having such a difficult time with the race issue. Enough said about that, too.

Miss Etta, loved the name game and the books! Do you remember that song that took names and rhymed them? Something with bananas in it I think? It's lurking right on the edge of my memory but I can't quite pull it out of the murky depths.

Time to get started on my busy, busy day. I've probably stirred up a hornets nest with something I've written here. Oh well, it won't be the first time.

Miss Faye

What's in your name?

Do tell, Miss Faye, do tell! I plumb forgot about Mr. Swindal and
his she-nan-i-gans. I had a friend who worked real hard for him when
he was campaigning. I always thought she got dreamy eyed when she
talked about him and all. I just wasn't sure if it was the man or
the fact he looked like a better version of her husband. Oh well--
as I remember now, she didn't have much to say when Swindal lived up
to his name.

What's in a name? Ever think about that? Back in my younger days
when I worked in a local hospital, we used to collect odd names.
Hey, we had to do something to take our minds off all the blood and
guts we used to see. The blood, the guts, the gunshots, the broken
bones, the sick, the dying, and the birthing. It was fun, but it got
to me after a while. Glad I got out of that business before the
newest virus of the 80's reared its self into mainstream life.

Anyway, as I was saying, we used to collect names and then imagine
books these people could have authored. So grab a cup of julep juice
and listen up.

College Life by Betty E Screws
Auto Maintenance by Aaron D Tire
Sensible Eating by Ima Hogg
Doll Collecting by Barb E. Dahl
Flying Lessons by Y. Drive
Tickle the Ivories by Dee Major
Beating the System by G I Mann-Slaughter
Between the Lines by Jay Walker
Paris on a Budget by Eileen N Towers
Parachuting by G. Ron Amo
Solar Flares by Mary Ray

Here I sit with just a plain name. No fun in Etta. Yesirreee, no
fun that I've ever seen.

Yall have a good day-- and remember to read those current
bestsellers "The Art of Prodding" by Al Rodham, and "War Strategy"
by Obama Run.

Miss Etta

Steamin and Stewin

Miss Etta, is East Brumbles by chance in Nicaragua? I hear getting
Americans to help widows and exiles get their money is a pretty good
business over there.

Listen, girls, I am just steaming - steaming, I tell you. This New
York governor. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS, ANYWAY? Isn't it absolutely
amazing how arrogant people can get? Arrogance knows no bounds,
that's for dang sure.

Remember that now ex-Congressman from Georgia with the unfortunate
name of Swindal? Nobody thought he could win the election, but bless
goodness he did. Then he got up there and got caught in some scheming
to get the money to pay for his big ole' house. (He needed a big
house cause his wife was ALWAYS pregnant At least she was every time
he had to go to court.) I mean, really. Did he think he was entitled
to it cause he sat on a chair in Congress?

Entitled is a word I detest. I absolutely, absolutely detest that
word. Makes my fingers quiver with revulsion just to type it.

Then we get to this fella from New York who allegedly dropped a right
nice chunk of change on a prostitute. (Miss Etta, maybe he helped
another widow woman get her money.) Him the self-appointed Mr. Moral
Conscience of the Universe Carrying A Great Ole Big Stick. Pride does
goeth, you know. Every time it goeth.

I don't even know where to start with this whole tangled mess, but
the 2 things that just aggravate me to no end are: 1) his wife
standing there beside him while he says "Yes, I was a bad boy" (no
apology, though. That's something i'm gonna' write about another
time, how we've become a land devoid of personal accountability. Stay
tuned.) and 2) what I think might just be behind this whole thing.

Why on earth would a man ask his wife to stand beside him (actually
she was standing behind him in the clip I saw) as he addressed the
world about how he unzipped his britches with another woman-for-hire?
And why on earth would she do it? Can somebody explain that to me,
please? I mean it's bad enough that he was sleeping-around on her,
but to ask her to stand there on stage with him as he tells the
universe that he did???? Even if it was his wife's idea to be there,
any man with a shred of compassion and decency (which probably rules
him out right there) would say "No, honey. You've been through
enough. I will not allow you to be further humiliated in such a way-
public fashion. Let me go get this press conference over with, then
I'll take you out to a nice, quiet dinner."

But I tell you, I wonder if our gal Hillary isn't behind this. Not
the rendezvous with the prostitute, but the big unveiling of the
rendezvous. Wonder if Mr. Big Time New York - who also just happens
to be a super-delegate - was planning to vote for Hillary or not.
Think about it. It's just the kind of thing Hillary would do. That's
all I'm sayin'.

Another thing that's got my panties in a wad this morning is the
letter the IRS is reportedly planning to send out to the tune of $42
MILLION DOLLARS telling folks to watch their mailbox this summer
cause a check's on its way. The IRS turned Publishers Clearinghouse.
Don't you girls think that the vast majority of us will KNOW when a
check lands in our mailbox beside all the bills and special offers?
$42 MILLION DOLLARS. And just before tax time, too. Guess we all
better check, check, and double check our returns cause they've gotta
pay for that postage from somewhere, and my bet is they'll be looking
at the tax returns with a magnifying glass this year.

Till next time,
Miz Vul

I'm Rich, I Tell YA

Why, there it was in my mailbox. Not one, but two emails telling me
I'm rich!! Yep, I'm the lucky fool who has been selected at random
from, not one but two, recent widows somewhere over in East Bumble,
to help them get their husband's money! Isn't it wonderful?

What? Doncha think it's true? Surely no self respecting widow would
send out an erroneous message like that, would they?

I figure since they were so bright to find me, and only me, that I
will let them find the way to get me the money without hearing from
me. Shouldn't they be that suave, that savvy, that .........

You gals are on your high horses with your conspiracy theory stuff.
You gals make a lot of sense on this weighing in of the children. I
think the elected folks should be the first to jump on it on those
scales. Will we have to take them to the state line so the scales
that weigh all those really big trucks can attempt to find out their
weight? Might be kinda hard since so many of them are so full of
smoke, hot air, and gigantic egos. Hey, how much do those egos
weigh? Don't know if their brains weigh more or less?

I'm gittin real worn out listening to all the people running for
office tell me how much they are gonna do for me. Somehow it all
sounds the same. And I figure the same means more taxes and less
privacy. Soon, they'll be telling us what we can talk about on our
own front porch!

While everyone else is running around, you'll spot me. I'll be the
one who has all those rich widows' money from East Bumble. When the
check arrives, I'll even treat ya'll to dinner.

Miss Etta

Still Trying to Find My Way Around the Weighing

Woo hoo, Miss Faye. You tell it, girlfriend. I LOVE your idea about
weighing in the esteemed legislators and posting THAT information on
the internet.

The "aggregate", of course.

Talk about some big ole' numbers. 'Course the numbers from the scales
wouldn't hold a candle to the numbers we'd get if we could measure
how much weight some of those elected officials throw around.

I tell you what I'd like to see weighed and that's the brains of the
members of the Clayton County Board of Education. Have you ever heard
of such a mess? I see on the Georgia Front Page where Governor Sonny
has Ronnie Chance trotting around some legislation that would
automatically, I assume, put out a referendum if the school system
loses accreditation. It'd go like this: school board members fart
around and lose accreditation for their system. Then, while they're
hiding out in their homes that may or may not actually be in the
geographical school system area they allegedly represent, an election
is held for voters to say "keep 'em" or "get rid of the dang fools."
Should voters choose door #2, Secretary of State would appoint
replacement board members - which is a good way to do it, in the
sense that holding elections is not cheap.

I just hope when and if they set up the scales they'll come up with
some high falutin' formula or sliding scale specially for those
school kids in Clayton County cause we three know that those kids are
gonna' be downing the junk food like never before. Specially high
school students wondering about getting into a college. Stress
increases appetites, it just does.

Miss Faye, Sugar, I am with you: it's the government intrusion that
just steams my broccoli. Like we need the government to save us from
ourselves. They just WISH we were half as stupid as they treat us.

I don't even think I can go much further down this road for fear
it'll make my Little Miss Debbie Double Chocolate Wafer Bar come back
up.

Y'all take care now.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

I just love a good conspiracy...

What burns me about this fat police thing is that the goverment intrusion is done by so-called Republicans. You know, the less government types. In their defense though, trying to say no to something like that is like being between the rock and hard place so often referred to.

I think it's all just sneaky ways of getting the goverment into our lives.

Can you just hear all these double-speaking do-gooders? "But it's good for our children" "We can't let these poor little boogers keep getting fatter and fatter and having heart attacks at young ages" "Don't you care about our dear children?"

I heard that we rank somewhere along the bottom of the totem pole in being fat here in Georgia. I guess it's all that finger-lickin' chicken and fat-back laden green beans. Ooooh, dump a pile of lumpy mash taters and greasy gravy and I'm in food heaven. Ummm, biscuits with gobs of butter, pour a good dose of syrup on top and oh lord I'm gaining weight with a smile on my face.

Well, I think we should start a movement to make all of our tubby senators and representatives measure up the same way they're making our kiddos measure up.

What's good for the goose is certainly good for the gander. I guess today is my day for re-using old cliches gals!

Back to the conspiracy. I do think they keep sneaking all these little bills in and pretty soon they'll control every nit picky little thing we do. We're losing our freedoms and we are smiling as it's happening because it's all in the name of nice.

Well. I started my morning with a smile and I'm ending it with a humph. I am just fed up with these folks at our state capitol. You know, they stick something like the measuring of fat onto the schools then they take way money for sports and the arts and all the extra programs that keep our kids moving instead of sitting. I wonder how much money it's going to cost the schools to try and keep up with kids weight? The state is cutting back on the funds that put nurses in schools, too. So who's going to weigh the kids? The PE teacher? Instead of having our children out playing kick ball (which nobody can play anymore because it's too physical) we'll have them standing in line waiting to be weighed.

And Miz Vul, I'm with you on the conspiracy of therapists. You know they have a huge lobby just like regular doctors. I bet there were a bunch of lobbyists lining up to push this one through in the name of "health".

Well, before I get too much more worked up and hurt my own health I'm going to stop typing and hit the send button to our journal. I am so stressed out about this I think I am going to have to fix a big bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. To each her own way of de-stressing. Mine stresses the seams of my jeans.

Miss Faye

What Now: Teachers as Fat Police???????

Misses Faye and Etta,

Did y'all hear about the brain child of one Joseph Carter in the
Georgia Senate? Carter introduced a bill - a bill that PASSED the
Senate last Friday - requiring schools to track the body mass index
(BMI) of school kids by WEIGHING each student and POSTING the
information on the school or maybe the school system's web site or
maybe, what the heck, both. He wants these measurements posted for
all to see (not individual stats but aggregate, thank goodness for
small things) so we can COMPARE the weight of Georgia school children
to the rest of America.

Say what?????

Here we go again with another way the government can step right into
our lives and save us from ourselves.

I got to wondering what on earth would possess a fella to think such
a thing is a good and fine idea. Did he just lose a lot of weight?
(Cause you know how evangelical recent weight loss folks can get.)
Does he or someone he loves own a weight loss franchise? (Cause, like
it or not, an absurd-but-attention-getter idea like this means free
publicity - probably nationwide.)

Wait. A. Minute.

Maybe this Carter fella is a therapist or loves one dearly. Maybe
he's a rare long-term thinker who knows that measuring and comparing
are two things guaranteed to give students angst-with-a-capital-A and
a sense of self worth that's lower-than-dirt. Maybe he knows that
student angst borne of low self worth manifests in ways that give
parents, teachers, and other adults who come in contact with the
aforementioned children angst. And as if all that's not enough, maybe
he knows that it's that low self worth ignited and fueled by
measurement and comparison that gives students-turned-adults angst
that limits and inhibits and sends them straight to the therapist's
office.

Now I'll admit it, girlfriends: I am a conspiracy theorist from way
back. But I'm thinking this isn't about a vast any-wing conspiracy.
No, this - THIS - is about food chain, pure and simple. It has to be.

Gotta' scoot, girls - it's supper time. Time to get my daily exercise
by using that grind-it-yourself salt shaker. Yes, I'll have extra
salt tonight. It's time to start working out sure enough cause today
they may be measuring and posting and comparing students, tomorrow it
could be everybody.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Appreciating the World

I woke up this morning, did my normal routine and in thinking about all I was going to do today, somehow got myself worked up into a good mood. Sometimes I read about all the bad things that are going on in this world and it's hard to appreciate or even see all the good things going on right around us.

It's easy to think that most things are bad if you just read the newspaper or watch TV. We get ourselves glued to that time-wasting tv screen and I think it washes all the good stuff right out of our brains.

I don't watch it except once in a blue moon. I think I might have shared that with you ladies before so I won't go back down that way.

I read a bit sometime past from this perpetually happy person. She or he, can't remember now, said they got up every morning and wrote a list of a bunch of good things to be happy about. Maybe it was blessings or positive thoughts about the day, can't even remember that exactly. I know I decided that was a good idea and I would do it myself.

Got the note pad, the pen, had it all set out by the bed and I think I did it twice before I got up running to go somewhere and just forgot to do it. After a few days I forgot about it but would try to think about some good things as I rushed about. Unfortunately, planning for the things I had to do pushed those good intentions and thoughts out of my head.

I'm just not the regimented, planning, get in a routine type person I suppose.

However, I am generally a happy person so it didn't hurt too much not to write good things down in the morning. I think there are more good things in this world than bad. I think I am truly blessed. I think we get brain washed into thinking we have to have more or we're not right if we're not doing this or living that way.

That saying about waking up and smelling the roses is right. At least until you turn on that stupid television and it tells you how bad everyone is and how much you don't have.

Think about this one that I have heard and read a number of times recently. Our poorest people, not including those in shelters or living under bridges, have electricity, refrigerators and most even have at least one car. They did this study and most of those we consider to be poor have microwaves and not one, but two televisions. They have dishwashers.

Turns out that if we moved the biggest part of our poor to Europe they'd be considered middle class. I haven't seen these studies for myself, but you have to figure if it was on the news, talk radio and in print that it's probably at least close to right.

I only brought that up to make my point that we are given these impossible standards by the media I think. We watch television and think we can't be happy unless we have that big old new car or the latest tennis shoes or whatever is being pushed. We all have so much to be thankful for and to appreciate.

Family is number one to me. Giving back and trying to help make other people happy is another good thing and I do so appreciate that I am able to do some tiny little things to make a few people feel a bit better. There are so many things in this life to appreciate. We're not here very long in the big scheme of things, it's not worth wasting a minute of it being down or wanting for what can't be. That's not to say that I'm always a happy person. No m'am, I manage to get the ends of my mouth twisted downward at times, but I don't let it last. I just get busy.

What started all these thoughts this morning? It was really something simple. I got up and walked into the kitchen and the sun was shining across the counter top in a way I hadn't seen before. All it was shining on was a tea pot and a dish by the sink, but it struck me how pretty it looked the way the sun highlighted it all, the beautiful swath of golden sun across the back splash, the shadows. Silly little thing but it got me thinking about all the beauty that is around us and all the good things I have to appreciate in my life.

Isn't it a beautiful, wonderful, and great world we have been blessed to live in?

Miss Faye

Road Trip to Vegas?

What happened in Vegas? While watching the morning news, I heard
about what happened in Vegas. Or at least, what is said that
happened in Vegas with the needles and syringes.

Doesn't that put a new meaning on their slogan of "What happens in
Vegas, stays in Vegas"? How many folks are out there worrying? How
many folks around the country are worrying? How many folks around
here are worrying?

What, with all the local grown men who go out there and compete from
time to time in their various sports. Sports like gambling, golf,
senior softball, one arm pulling, card guessing, cue stick pushing
and the like. Although, I never really hear much of any results from
our local boys. Guess they've been busy trying to keep Vegas in Vegas.

Miz Vul, so very relieved to finally hear from you again. I was
plumb tuckered out from worry that you had up and left me all alone
on the porch. Even if daddy always said I could talk to the wall. I
can talk to the wall, and sometimes I catch myself talking to
myself. Makes for a right good conversation. Ah, there I go- off in
my own planet again.

You and Miss Faye been out on another one of your jaunts? Out to,
oh, let's say, Vegas?

I've been busy just keeping on the straight and narrow. I haven't
been anywhere, seen anybody, done anything. That's my story- and
I'm sticking to it.

Ya'll keep safe, ya hear?

Miss Etta