I Took A Dump

Thank you baby Jesus it's FRIDAY! Not only has this been the week from Saskatchewan (I only said that because it would sound bad to cuss in the same line as thanking the great one for this day), but it is the best day of the week if you ask me. I decided that since I was so full of shit (not in the same sentence now) this week, I would take a dump. So here's my plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

Sometimes we need a little spice in our life

 whether is laying with a loved one

listening to good music

wrapped in a fuzzy blanket

or daydreaming

Happiness is where your heart is...

Have a great weekend, cozy up to the ones you love,

Dusty

Hot Tamales

It's been a while since we did a Hot Tamale feature and I would love it if anyone wants to feature their blogs during the Hot Tamale series to give me a hoot and hollar. Showcasing blogs is important to me because lets face it, we all get to where we are going with a little help and big mouths.

So I wanted to feature a few people that have said "yes, to my blog." All of my lovies at the right are brilliant smart and wonderful. Please take the time to say Sup! Oh, and if you want to advertise on my blog, just click the advertise button at the top and do a happy dance. We are going to have a blast.

blog

To say I love this chick is an understatement. Shanna and I have become so close. She's funny, fashionable and lives in Texas. Now who doesn't love a girl from Texas? She can shop like a professional and has two of the cutest little girls which by the way are just as funny as she is. Thank you Shanna for being a great friend and beautiful soul.

blog

Sara is a southern bell from Georgia. She's also a creative soul. She makes the wonderful bags, you can go to her Etsy and purchase away. She has an infectious smile and a personality to fit and you are going to love her. I do and I am so glad we are friends.

blog

Lindsay has become one of my best bloggy friends. There's not a day that goes by that I don't talk to her either by text or email. She makes me laugh and we talk about some of the funniest stuff. Along with her adorable husband and cute little fur babies, she's a little crafting beast. I love her quick wit and I also love that I can say anything to her and she doesn't judge my craziness. You're gonna love this girl and I will share her because she's just that damn good. I love love love you Linds!

blog

OMG! Amanda makes me laugh. She and I have some of the funniest email exchanges. Last week she told me that Hedgehogs masturbate and I swear I blew snot bubbles. I laughed so hard. It was just what I needed because I had a sucky day. She also loves books and you have to read her engagement story. To Die for! Go see her. And thank you Amanda for you  our giggles. I love ya!

blog

Nikki is a girl after my own heart. We live about three hours away from each other and before its all said and done we are gonna have a blate. She's going to the chapel and gettin' married next year and I am so excited for her. Her blog has a little of this and that so your going to dig her. Go over and check her out. Love you Nikki.. You and me and the electric slide baby!

blog

You must go visit Tiffany. She's a total riot. And you see that little sweet beast in the picture? Well, if you don't go visit her I am sure she will eat you alive. I love Tiff. She has a wicked fun sense of humor. She's a California girl with fun adventures. And if you follow her blog you must follow her Twitter. She cracks me up. I love Tiff. I have no choice, her cat JMEOWW will claw my eyes out if I didn't. Go see her!

So there you have it. Some of my lovely peeps. Next month you will get to see more beautiful features. New blogs are the shitzl. Everyone has something to offer. And you know we all want a little spice in our life!

Advertise if you want, its never a dull moment over here in the land of crazy.

XO,

Dusty

Fetish of Sorts

I have a little bit of a rock & roll side to me although you probably wouldn't have never guessed it right? I love pretty classical pieces like a flowy sundress or jeans and tshirts, but I also have a fetish. I love skulls and crossbones especially if the skull has a little bow on its head. I once wanted a tattoo like Rhianna's on her ankle (google it). So, for this weeks Tater Queens Fashion Inspirations I give you something to bring out your inner rebel. It's okay to be a little bit on the edge and still feel classic.

Source: us.topshop.com via

 

Source: johnnywas.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

Source: ae.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

I think this would suit me just fine. Of course, I cannot afford those pants. I would have to work a street corner for a month, but they are pretty Hot Snot but I would have to find a knock off and that sweater should just appear in my closet.  So what do ya think? Do you believe me now, that this Tater Queen is a rebel? You could see me in this right? Agree or I am gonna have to take you out back.

Tell me, do you have a style that nobody would think was you?

Rock on, loves,

Dusty

Don't forget my giveaway, go here to enter

Oh and here's proof of my fetish. I used to make these bags and sell them..

I Give Myself Away

Its time for I have promised a giveaway! Something I have been meaning to do last month to celebrate the birth of this blog and well, I didn't get around to it. There is only one person on this earth that knows why. 

So, before you bust a gut with excitement I will be giving myself away. That's right just like a hooker on dollar day, I am giving you all of me. You will be stuck for the rest of your lives reading my mundane BS and supporting me when or if I ever get another hemmy. I mean its like winning the loot on the Price Is Right. 

In the meantime, while you ponder the fact that I will be stuck in your head forever, I will give you a chance to make the transition a little easier.

$25 smackaroos 

That's right! A $25 dollar Target gift card. Do you know what you could buy with that? I can stretch $25 dollars into well, $25 dollars. You could buy aspirin for when I make you laugh so hard your head hurts, or depends after you peed your pants. Either way, it's a win win.

Be a follower of this blog. That's right below where it says Sweethearts join, leave me  a comment, like "I love you Dusty" or "I worship the ground you walk on" even better, "you are a rock star" and then be a Twit and Tweet the giveaway to the world. Done! Simple! Winner to be chosen October 1st then you can go spend your loot on new mittens and hats for winter.

Good freaking luck, I promise not to spend it before then,

Dusty

Hell in a Handbasket

Hello, Loves, did everyone have a great weekend? I had friends in town and it was fantastic. It's always comforting to see friendly faces and you miss them when they go. But I wanted to do a follow up post. Last Thursday, I posted a video of a song that I listen to often and the message behind it was to hopefully encourage people that its okay if you don't feel perfect, we are all perfect in some way in someone's eyes. Now, I give you some of the reasoning why I feel like I am going to hell in a handbasket. 

As my 41st birthday is approaching fast, I started to think of all of the good in my life and the way I have lived, but nobody ever prepares you for how you will look. Now granted there are Hollywood starlets out there that still have the face of a 25 year old. I am sure that has to do with good genetics and a gas pump full of fillers and Botox. I mean in Tinsel Town, I am sure there is a drive-thru window somewhere where you can get a shot in the forehead "to go" with the green monster diet smoothie and In & Out burger, but here in redneck land, I have to rely on cheap wrinkle cream and Neutragena face wash.

Here are a few things I have notice going on with this 40 year old. First, after reading in a magazine about the best jeans for your shape, I realize that they don't make a "prune" shape. You got boy, pear or petite shape, but I think since everything seems to be NOT defying gravity, I am going with the dried up prune. My butt now only fills out the jeans but the jiggle is more prevalent and probably looks like two pigs in a blanket. 

Then when I flex my arms I seem to have muscles, yet there is no longer definition. Its just an arm. Plain Jane straight arm with a mud flap that is starting to show itself. So now when I wave goodbye, I am waving twice with once body part. Mad talent skill.

My once perky tits are starting to migrate under my arms. Which only can mean one thing, since they no longer look 25, they want to crawl into my pits and hide like a polar bear hibernates in the winter. Hmm, maybe that's what my bubbies are doing; they are going into lifetime of hibernation. Which is good, if I lie down flat, my son now has a sled for the three inches of snow we may or may not get this winter.

Let's not even mention the grey hairs and I am not talking about the one's on my head. The ones that grow out of your eyebrows are sold white, thick and they poke straight out. I love turning into a porcupine. I now have quills growing between my eyes. I am not even going to mention the ones that also produce themselves on the chuckie. Those die a fast death, one shave and gone. If anything can give away your mojo, it's the presence of gun metal on the party bus.

The list goes on and on. Crow's feet, my voice is starting to sound like a roid raged beef cake and the age spots collecting on my body could be a road map of death. I don't understand how it all happened so fast, but it did. Somewhere I have to look inside myself to say, "hey, you look pretty darn good for almost 41." Then I turn the lights on and it all happens again, tweezers, anti-aging serum, hair dye and host of crap that I have to do, just to maintain the I don't look like Grandmas Moses. Seriously, I am about four years away from mom jeans and those Luv my panties that are made of stretch cotton, if I don't get off the stick and so something about it. I can't change my age, but maybe if every day I hold my face pulled back like a platypus, draw on new eye brows, use contour to define my muscles and shave a heart on my drooping tootatoot, I will feel 25 again.

Happy Monday,

Dusty

  

You R Perfect

Everyday is a struggle for most to get up, feel good, look in a mirror and say you are Perfect. I myself will tell you that I am a self professed princess and I make no apologies for it. In no way do I think I am beautiful or resonate to the fact that I have it all. I look in the mirror and don't always like what I see and I struggle every day with the what ifs, why couldn't I have and yes I am's of this vain life. So today this is for all the people that have felt less than perfect, having a fat day, are the subject of ridicule, bullying and in their hearts feel less than the amount of love they truly believe they don't have. My message is clear and if I reach one person, then I have taught myself and my child only this....You are loved. I am loved. I love you! I know you might not watch it, but do and listen to the words. I go to this song often when I feel the weight on my shoulders.

PS..My hero Pink is coming to Nashville in March and my happy ass will BE THERE singing at the top of my lungs!

My heart if only today believes I am perfect,

Dusty

Black n White and Butt all over

Time for Tater Queens Fashion Inspirations. I know Queen for today. Call me crazy but I am for some odd reason wanting a pair of these pants. I don't know if I am channeling my inner pirate or being a little rock & roll but I love them. 

I mean with a one shoulder blouse, wouldn't this rock the casba? I know you think I am cray cray. 

Source: victoriassecret.com via Kelly on Pinterest

Source: stage.buyosphere.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

I guess I should look at it this way, vertical stripes are slimming and I am sure that these pants would make my J Lo butt look like a target, but sure would be fun for a night out with the girls and a little boogie down time. And yes I admit it, I would wear these just for the reaction. I am a rebel like that!

Tell, me would you wear something out of your comfort zone?

Peace, Love and Rock n Pants,

Dusty

Anger Management

Have you ever just wanted to punch someone right in the mouth for no apparent reason? I mean seriously walk up to them and say, Good morning, Kapow! Lately, I have been just a little edgy or maybe somewhat stressed but I have no reason to be a dicksnap. Well, I mean I have a few reasons but not enough that I can't say oh, to heck with it. But you know that saying "your getting on my last nerve" well that's the way I feel. Yesterday I went to a marketing meeting and lord if it isn't a small world I ran into someone I went to high school with. This person was younger than me which even made it worse because there wasn't a wrinkle on her face but I did want to chat and catch up yet this meeting was somewhat important because the Mayor of Nashville was speaking. I mean he doesn't mean shit to me but the more he blabbered on the more I just wanted to walk up and punch him right in the kazoo. Hello Mr. Mayor, my name is Beth (gotta give him a fake name) and your MTA bus plan sucks, Whap! Right in the kisser. Then walk back to my seat and bitch slap the  class mate for not having a wrinkle or her face. The slut.

Setting in the doctors office when she comes in the room and says, "so you're not feeling well?" No, you dumb  shit, I came in here to waste $25 bucks and to tell you your open toe shoes were ugly as hell. Isn't that some kind of health violation that we can be exposed to your bare feet?" Kapow! Right in those fushia pink lips and by the way your toe nail polish is ugly.

Duh comes over to me with my deodorant and says, "you're out of deodorant" and I am like,  "why do you know this? Because I have been using yours." Really? But you have your own deodorant. At that moment, I wanted to loosen his two front teeth to the point of dangling redneck teeth only to be fixed by the help of a good dentist. So, I guess you get to have the PH balanced kind of day and I get to smell like a hog. I secretly hoped he received a fungus.

Last week I got an ugly comment on my blog or for what I thought was an ugly comment. Normally, things like that do not bother me because if you put it out there then your subject to anything goes. But it kind of felt personal, so I vented about it to a few and I seriously thought I am pretty sure I could totally fight like a girl. Like punch this person until their lips looked like that chick from the First Wives Club. Big fat red lips with me giving them the one-two punch, ding ding I win the championship belt kind of gratification. 

I don't know why I am so edgy. I don't know why I want to just start fighting people like a wild octopus with arms flaying but maybe its my subconscious telling me I should exercise or relieve the stress. Maybe I should take up kick boxing or become an ultimate fighter.

Do you ever feel like this?

Have a great Tuesday (ha),

Dusty

Southern Thugs

Sometimes I feel like it would be so much easier to be a thug than a woman.Think about what I am saying to you women folk. Oh, and being a southern girl at that because we have this reputation of being very passive women. Well, some maybe but not me. I mean wouldn't it just be easier to walk out of the house with my pants hanging down past my butt with high top tennis shoes? Normal people see that and they say, "look at that chicks  pants you can see their underwear, where's their belt?" In the south, its "Oh my gawd, did you see that street person. Her pants are way too big, her underwear doesn't match her outfit and I am pretty sure her ass has enough dimples she can play nine holes of golf on it. Bless it, where is her mother?" 

Thugs don't care, you make fun of their one gold tooth and they put a cap in your ass or steal your purse. Southern women bob their heads, snap and wave their fingers and call three friends who in turn call four more people they don't know in another town to discuss who wore white after Labor Day. The effing nerve! Who wears white after Labor Day? Shoot. 

Thugs smoke crack and Marlboro reds. Southern women smoke windshield pokers like Capri's or Virginia Slim Light One Thousands. I mean they have to because anything closer to lighting near their hair and poof! The aqua net induced bouffant is up in flames. We never cared in the 80's and 90's. The taller the hair the closer to god. Now it's all about making sure while we drink with our pinkies out, our ciggies are long enough to last threw a 20 minute conversation and heaven forbid your kid fall in a pool or scrape their knee. The tragedy is wasting a good smoke on possible death or getting a bandaid.

Thugs talk in code. Yo, Bro, Sup! Southern women have to say hello in five syllables, give you a hug, look you up and down and call you honey. We ask how you are, but do we really care? Yes, we care. We gotta have some crap to gossip about. 

Thugs drink Colt 45 and eat Big Macs. Southern women drink Bud Light or wine and eat biscuits with chocolate gravy. This chocolate gravy is a recipe passed down generations, so even though you think it tastes like heated up mud, you make and insist your kid eat it because its a G-D family air loom. Can gravy recipes be air looms? Hum.

My point is this... women and thugs everywhere should join together. Thugs can teach us Southern Belles how to be in the fight club and we can teach them that if they brushed their teeth and used whitening agents then gold would not be necessary for their teeth and they can pawn that shit and buy more white high top sneakers. I mean what southern woman isn't good at finding a bargain? I mean Payless has BOGO. A pair of high tops and get my high heels for half off. Now that's the southern way. Bless our hearts.

Happy Monday,

Dusty

Butt of a Joke

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! Its official. Of all the great inventions, Twitter, man on the moon, cellphones, and Skype along with thousands of other worthy things that I could mention, they finally have found a way to take an ass, transplant it and make tits. There is hope for me. I am not sure where I need to sign up for this surgery, but I give you proof.

If all goes as planned I should be a 36C. Happy Friday friends. I will be back Monday in full working order and full of more poop than a Christmas turkey.

XO,

Dusty

The Affair

If you didn't notice, yesterday there was not a post. Today is supposed to be Tater Queens Fashion Inspirations and I just can't. You see starting on Friday of last week I knew I just didn't feel right. Something in my gut was telling me that something was off. By Monday it was official. I found out that my nose is having an affair with a box of Kleenex. I don't know how it happened. I thought I was doing everything right, but sometimes a cheater is just a cheater. 

For the last five days all they have done is blow. I am at the point of saying "get a room" but I don't know that it would do any good. So, I have drowned my sorrows in Mucinex, some antibitoics I found in the cabinet and Sprite. I may have to go to rehab for the amount of liquid I have drank. Day in and out this pounding and heavy breathing is just off the charts. If it gets to be two much, I think I will consult a doctor friend and have a love affair with a shot of something in the butt cheek. 

Until then, its going to take a little time to get over this. Please send good thoughts my way and pray that my nose sees the light and dumps that cracker with aloe and I can be back to my old self again.

On another note, I did muster up the strength to attend my son's parent teacher conference only to be informed that my kid seems to be the class clown. Hum, wonder where he gets that from? I must evaluate.

Happy Wednesday,

Dusty

History Lesson 1-0 huh?

I am full of useless knowledge and so to keep my brain cells full of nothing, I have been relying on Wikipedia for informational purposes. As I research the meanings, origins, and definitions of words and yes this is for a certain purpose but that's for another post, I have found some pretty fun facts that at my age thought that someone in my social studies or science class should have taught me in school. I mean why in the world would I rely on myself to do such things?

First, did you know that one tree produces about 100 pounds and 83 million rolls of toilet paper a day. Which only means that the whole world is full of shit.

Although mouthwash, relieves bad breath and kills some types of organisms in our mouth, it does not last long enough to kill all germs and disease throughout the day. Which only means the whole world has a potty mouth.

Tampons originated from the medieval French word tampion, meaning a piece of cloth to stop a hole, a stamp,plug, or stopper. Which only means every woman hits a hole in one.

Soap is made up of fatty oils and lubricants which takes its name from Mount Sapo where animal sacrifices had taken place. Which only means one stint in jail and you will learn the term soap on a rope.

And finally it's a known fact that chewing gum does not stay in your stomach for 7 years. So guess what? Yo momma lied. Which only means you can tell her to blow it out her ass.

So kids, I hoped you enjoyed this little history lesson. These are deep thoughts I don't have very often but thought that if I shared, my wisdom will be your gain. Or you could tell me to blow it out my ass, but that wouldn't be very nice now would it?

Hey, Monday,

Dusty

EEEE HAW!

People it's Friday. I hope everyone has a great weekend. I will be lounging by the sea, with a rum filled umbrella drink, with some guy named Juan playing naked beach volleyball. And after I wake up from that dream, I will not really be doing jack crap. So, I leave you with this. We went to the fair a couple of weeks ago. Yes, I took pictures of my kid. They were awesome, he's the greatest thing, blah blah. But I got to see these beautiful creatures.......

Donkeys

Yes, that's right donkeys. I love them. I want one but our neighbors might report us to the codes department. We pulled up behind the trailer, I jumped out in a line of traffic and took this picture. I am sure the people behind us thought I was nuts, but I as you know by now don't really care what other people think. 

 Love an animal, any animal, even a jackass. 

Dusty

WE broke up!

So, you know how I mentioned I had a little minor surgery last week. Well, I decided that I had enough and me and the hemmoroid broke the eff up! You have read me write about this and for the last six months we have been pretty intimate, but I, for the love of Pete, decided that there are certain things in a relationship I can't handle and a pain in the ass is one of them. After two days of complete and utter arguing back and forth, I decided to go see the doctor and she said, "oh, Dusty, you need to have that cut out." At this point, the relationship had run its course and I decided that before I had to buy it a Christmas present, it was time to destroy. You know like in high school before Valentines Day and your boyfriend breaks up with you so he doesn't have to buy you a gift. Bastard! Huh, oh, yeah, wandered.

The surgeon called me Wednesday morning, I went in and in 60 seconds, that asshole was removed from my life. It wasn't pleasant. When he explained to me where the needle was going and if I didn't remove it, it was going to continue to cause me excruciating pain, I decided for the first time in my life to sort of cheat on Duh and let another man look at my body parts for which I told him that we weren't going to be friends. It was just wham, bam and a boom and I will leave his office without even the mention of his name. I wouldn't tell a soul, if he didn't tell a soul.

As the nurse was petting my head like I was a screaming coyote, it was over in less than a minute. I told him that if we were married, I would divorce him because in my eyes I think that constitutes some type of violation although I consented. Hell, people get divorced now a days over something less tragic.

After putting enough gauz between my ass cheeks to help a wounded animal, I asked him if it was gone. He said, completely and I got dressed, walked out of the room and smiled at the rest of the patients waiting because I am pretty sure they heard me scream in Egypt.  I mean we were up close and personal, I didn't even get a kiss. My butt was numb for three hours in which at one thought wished I could revert back to being 6 months old, just to see what it would be like to shit my pants and set in it. I came home and after a few days of recovery, I so proud to say that breaking up was not hard to do. So, you see although as painful as the split was, I know that my butthole is in a better place. I will be able to move on and look back on it, as one of the fondest memories I ever had. I won't cry anymore, I won't have to put frozen squash between my legs or insert with another bullet again. And although Preparation H will lose my money, I will be happy to donate it to another cause. Yes, it could have told friends and could resurface on the other side, but if it knows what is good for it, it will stay dead and buried because I now have a friend. A special friend with numbing medicine and a sharp utensil and apparently he's not afraid to use it.

I am free! No more fruit like object protruding out of my butt. It's the best break up I have ever had in my life. I may kiss a redneck with no teeth after this. Rejoice with laughter my friends.

Happy Thursday,

Dusty

Tall Order

Have you ever heard a man say the expression, "i'd give my left nut" for something? I know every time I have ever heard it I thought my self, "no dude you can keep it, i'll give you what you want for free." Seriously, whoever came up with that saying obviously need to have their head hit with a roll of barbed wire. But I also know kind of what they are saying because I would give my two bubbies and pigs wrestling on my back side to be tall. Actually, I wish the two were reversed, but that's beside the point. My point is if I were tall I would not have to worry about feeling dumpy. I am 5'4" but lower to the ground. By that I mean I have short legs. I suck. 

In TJ Maxx on Saturday, I came this close and I mean close by $14.99 close to buying a maxi skirt just to fullfill these outfits. I didn't because tennis shoes and bras were apparently more important.

The skirt was similar in color but striped and I have a army green sweater. I know dumb dumb!

Source: waterproofvalentines.tumblr.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

This is also a fav, but I feel like one of those nerds that wears their pants up their chest.

Source: by169w.bay169.mail.live.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

Or maybe it's not tall I need to be, but a negative 12 pounds. I have a jean jacket too. Total fail!

Source: fashionworship.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

So, as I struggle with the fact that I didn't purchase the skirt or the awesome brown moto jacket for $24 smacks. I wonder what it would be like to be about three inches taller. Maybe its in the shoes. What shoes would you wear to pull this off? 

Help a Tater Queen out won'tcha!

Happy Wednesday,

Dusty

Fall'n

I don't know that its officially fall especially with the temperatures some of us across the country are still having. Yesterday, we celebrated Labor Day with rainy weather here in Tennessee. Isn't it funny how we celebrate a day of labor..not working? I'll take it, but our weekend wasn't filled with grilling and sunshine. Regardless, its the start of fall season and the leaves will begin to change and that great jacket I have hanging in my closet will be put to good use. 

Here are the things I am looking forward to as we are Fall'n into the season. 

Bonfires

Chunky Sweaters

College Football

Crock pot cooking

The feeling of night air with the windows open

Walking

Bike Rides

Trick or Treating

Baseball

Spices

Pumpkin Patches

Color

Jumping in leaf piles

Friends

Last night in between rain storms, we went out to buy a new coffee pot, big whoop with excitement and came across this candle in Target. I immediately lit it up and the smell put me in cozy mode. 

So bring it on mother nature. I am over the summer and ready for what the seasons brings. Anything to not be sweating my baguettes off. Are you excited for the season?

Happy Tuesday,

Dusty