Fighting Crime

Fighting crime is so hard. Here's how the shake down happened.

Wanted

If you have seen this kid, he's in violation of 

Pillow Pet Neglect

After receiving the call from Charlie

The suspect was spotted in Five Guys

I decided in order to perform the stake out to the best of my ability

A good Angel has to fuel up and keep her fluffy

in bouncy mode. 

Suspect was not spotted in Orlando, Florida either

He was eventually caught

at home eating one of his mom's easy peasy

creations, croissants heated in the oven

and spread with honey

Being a Charlie's Angel is so rewarding

Ian took this picture then charged me with

impersonating Farrah Fawcett.

I guess we are even!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Dusty

linked up life rearranged

Hen Party

Well, lovies, I have gone to Orlando for a Hen Party. The company that I work for holds a marketing workshop every year and I am off to corporate society. I am taking my computer, and should have a post Wednesday and totally back on Thursday. Until then, don't forget me and if you want, take a gander at some of my other reads if your new to this here crazy town blog. Or even better, some of my wondermous followers can tell you what their favorite post was in the comments, so you can take a look. 

You can also follow my adventures at the following. Just click the link below and it will take you to new level of fantastic. Well not really, but as friends, we should share right?

Twitter

Facebook

Pinterest

Bloglovin'

And if that isn't enough, I leave you with a photo, so you really don't forget me! The kid took a few silly pics of me this weekend. I call them my Farrah Fawcett series. I will show the others on Friday. I hope to catch up on my bloggy reads and comments in the hotel. 

Hugs,

Dusty

Man Land

Did everyone have a great weekend? I did. Although the weather didn't cooperate always, we did manage to have some sunshine and out door time. My son plays PW7 baseball and had a scrimmage game yesterday afternoon. Being southern, I of course got up and curled my hair for it. I also got hit in the face with a little reality yesterday and it got me to thinking. Oh, shit right? I am the typical mother on the bleachers, screaming her head off during a game. They have had a total of 3 practices and I know every kids name on his team. I know a little over the top, but necessary in my quest to look like the crazy mother. 

As we walked with Ian to the field, we walked into the stands and right then and there I realized that I became the uncool mom. He sees his friends and I don't exist. He entered "man land". Man land you say? Well, let me explain. Men have a different approach than women and it starts at an early age. I noticed a lot of fist to fist contact. What is that? Are they activating special powers? I also saw a group of 7 years all adjusting themselves repeatedly. This apparently starts at birth and doesn't change. I look up and my son is scratching and moving things around the zoo area. I want to yell across the field and tell him that its not going anywhere, to back away from the goober. I don't understand this. Men can walk around adjust, lifting, settling and scratching there stuffs. But if a women walked around doing the same, we would be talked about and bestowed that we have crotch rot. Seriously, I double dog Oreo dare any of you lovelies to go to the mall and walk around and do all of the above and see what reaction you would get. I would personally bust out laughing but I find humor in the strangest things. If anyone stops you just say, I am trying out a new FDS wash and I am pressing the button so I can get a wiff of that fresh spring scent. You know like a Febreeze air freshener. 

Men also have "the greeting." They see each other assume the position with this hand to hand contact like they are about to arm wrestle, move in bump one shoulder with the other hand doing two pats on the shoulder, but far enough away that they don't invade each other's space and ends with "what's up bro?" The answer, "not much bro, just hanging in there." "Yeah, me too". Not women especially southern women. We see a girl that we haven't ran into in ages, run up with our arms wide open and revert to the high pitch hello,    and our language goes from six syllables to ten. "Oh, my gawd, how are uuuuuuuuuuuuu? Look at cheeeewwww? You look so pretty. You are so skinny, I love your hair!" Which means with the bubble above your head, OMG, the last time I saw you, you had a bad Toni home perm, your ass was fat, you had a crater face and drove an ugly car. What man did you marry with money that took you out of the depths of despair? This is all true and you know it. 

Why is man land easier? They can walk into a bathroom with urinals lined against the walls. With the monster hanging out, they pee at the same time and have conversation. Imagine no bathroom stall doors in the women's restroom. Awkward huh? You walk into a toilet for your 9 am poo, another women walks in, sets down beside you. You would be right next to another women in the wide open. You would have to do the only thing necessary. You would have to look at her and say, "look, I just got out of a meeting where I have held this for an hour and drank 3 cups of coffee. Are you gonna drop the kids off at the pool first or am I? And by the way, I sat down before looking and there's no toilet paper, can you hand me some over?" At that point you would have to revert to rock, paper, scissors. Dynamite blows up paper, so let 'er rip. Thank god for stalls and doors. Because normally, you just set there until they leave or repeatedly flush so that person doesn't hear it or one time a lady actually apologized to me for being so loud. See even when we crap, we apologize for it. Men don't, they say, dude that was powerful, laugh and move on.

So, as I realize my son is growing up, he will be a part of the man land club. That's its okay, to scratch, poop openly, fist pump at stupid, have a two second unemotional hug, and marry little Suzy from the trailer park and want to turn her into a trophy wife. He will bring her home for Thanksgiving and I will repeat the cycle..."oh, my gawd, look at cheeeewwww, aren't you just the cutest thing!" When the bubble above my head says, "you hurt my son and you die a slow hard death by a poisoned manicure and bad Toni home perm!"

Have a great Monday!

Dusty

My week in an Insta

My week in an Insta

The strangest thing happened

I was arrested on Mars

this is my mugshot

They fed me eggs in jail

They thought this beauty was a spy from Russia

realized I was just crazy

wrote me a ticket for speeding, released me 

and sent me on my way

Have a great weekend!

Dusty

Two Cents Thursdays

Thursday! Thursday! Thursday! I am thinking if I say it enough time will pass and it will be Friday. Okay, one more day won't kill me I guess. Here is my two cents for this week. Actually a rather calm week but still I have a few things to speak about.

- You read me rant and rave about naked pregnant chicks all week, now I see a picture of Carrie Underwood and her new album cover. I want to say that I demand to see her legs in person. I want to make sure that there is not one ounce of photo editing anywhere in that picture and that her legs really look like that. If so, she just insulted every female in the universe who don't have the time to pay someone to make her legs look like perfect specimens.  I personally love her music, but I just don't think its fair to have both. Choose one or the other, so I know your human.

- Why my sister and my bloggy friend Jenn can get a banging hot new short hair cut that requires nothing but them moving their heads back and forth for sexy effect and if I got the same hair cut,  I would look like a pumpkin head.

- Why the person that I lay my head down to every night seems to think the that his dirty laundry resides on the floor. It's not hard. Right out side our bedroom, honey, is a closet that houses a hamper. You know, white with wheels, and it holds an abundance of clothing which alerts me to do the laundry. Do I need to Map Quest it for you?

- I kid you not I received an email from a marketing representative saying thank you for mentioning their product Preparation H in one of my blogs. Also,mentioned that they would be happy to send me any other material in the future. I wanted to respond and so no dude, THANK YOU! Wouldn't you hate to be the person that asks where they work? Yes, I provide the marketing for an product that brings special relief to those with anal seepage problems.

- I wanted to make a link for my Insta.gram but forgot my address and password. I am surely hoping to remember it sometime soon.

- My son thinks that Suri on my iPhone is a real person. He asked her where our bathroom was in our house. She responded with, "there are no public toilets located in your area."

- And finally, I had an ah ha moment. I believe that the reason men open the door for you to walk in and out of a building or motion for you to get off the elevator first is because they want to look at your ass. 

Happy Thursday friends. What's your two cents this week? Are you pondering anything good?

Big ole Thursday lovin',

Dusty

Honor Thy Mother

Thy mother took thy daughter shopping. On a budget of $130 smacks these are the wondermous things I picked out. I can't say purchased, so lets say, I put up on the counter. Plus, I am pretty sure she felt sorry for me. I think she saw my drawings from last week and decided to get me a few non frump girl items. 

my loot

two adorable peasant tops

pair of sunglasses in which I am sure I look like an alien 

and a hat

I am not complete without a hat

these little beauties are cotton and comfy for summer sweat stinking days

a pair of black capris

and

the perfect trouser jeans

I have been yearning for a pair of trouser jeans but feel like they make me look

like a chunk a lunk

these fit just right for fluffy (or the mirror lied)

All this at JCP. Everyone always says, oh, JCP is old people clothes. No they don't, does this look like blue hair material? No. And why would I complain? It was free. Thanks Mom you rock!

Been shopping lately? 

Hugs,

Dusty

linked up the pleated poppy

Fair Leather Friend

So I think its in the water. Every where you look it’s a woman and a baby bump. So glad we are all cyber buddies. They say sometimes women that hang around each other tend to take on the same cycles, so I have decided to read everyone’s blogs at different times during the day to make sure that I can’t even get knocked up through technology. Any hoot, last week, I mentioned that I was a little ticked when I read about Jessica Simpson and her dumb comment about she would die if  her kid chose Nike’s over Christian Louboutin’s. I still stand behind what I said, which was basically, what a ding bat. I would also like to request that naked celebrities everywhere, stop posing nude on the covers of these magazines. I mean wouldn’t you hate to be the person that waxed her wassa for that picture? I couldn’t even see my wassa when I was pregnant. I basically hiked my leg like a dog and prayed that I hit the spot with toilet paper when I wiped after going to the bathroom. I think it might have gotten to the point I just threw it at the area and hope it landed on the bulls eye. The day she told me I was going to have my son. I thought, oh, I gotta go home and groom myself. I got in the shower, tried three ways from Sunday and decided that Moma Big Bush here would just let the hospital do it. I mean, hell they charge your insurance for everything else, a little wassa trim won’t hurt ‘em.  

So, along with my same gripe, I was doing some lifestyle research yesterday (my new term for Pinteresting, fits don’t you think) and came across a picture of Kourtney Kardashian who apparently forgot her birth control, wearing leather pants. Let me say this again, leather pants. Nobody said, that you had to look like the poster child for pregnant, but here’s the pickle. When you sign up for I am pregnant 101, you pretty much sign all the rights to I cannot fit my butt into leather, skinny or any other pants other than something with a stretch waste band. And if you wear tights make sure you wear a top that covers just enough of Texas down below,  so we don’t see that your 7 months pregnant tight pants with the “V”. “V” is not for victory at 7 months pregnant.  You agree that not all ordinary clothing works.

Sometimes ordinary clothes don’t work even on un-pregnant people. Back in the day when I was hot snot, I had me some leather pants. The girls and I would go honky tonkin’ and I could push my tush with the best of them. I also, could drink a few beers (like six)  back then. Now I drink more than two and I am what they call asphalt licker. We went out one Saturday night. It was cold. I decided I would wear my black leather pants. I mean what girl isn’t cool in a cowboy bar in leather? We danced and drank, did the normal routine, ate at Waffle House afterwards, I went home and apparently passed out…in my clothing...face down. My mother who at the time, decides to call on Sunday and being the persistent woman that she is, tends to repeat her trend if you don’t answer the phone the first time. I woke up and realized that I could barely move. It didn’t enter into my sloshed up brain that you kind of swell after a night of drinking buckets of yeast and eating an omelet the size of a boulder. I roll over with my legs stuck straight out and there I was, stuck inside these pants like a burrito, walking around stiff legged, I could barely bend my knees to get my shoes off. I couldn’t call for help, I lived by myself and the dog didn’t care, she had to pee. I ended up having to cut them off my body. I am pretty sure it was like when you open a can of cinnamon rolls, the pressure is released from the can and the dough fluffs out of the sides of the aluminum. I gave those pants a proper burial in the trash, rubbed lotion on my legs that were chafed and never looked at another pair of leather pants again.

So my fixation on why a pregnant person feels the need to wear these is beyond me because you swell when you’re pregnant. You get up in the morning and your thighs look normal and by the end of the day they have turned into full blown roaster, set on 350, listen for the ding and you’re done. All I can say is to all the pregnant ladies, please back away from the leather. The only think leather is good for couches, diaper bags and shoes.

Happy Tuesday,

Dusty

Plant Whisperer

I love women that are domesticated.The ones who can raise 2.5 children, bring home the bacon, keep the house white glove clean and still manage to hot roll their hair to perfection by the 7 pm dinner party with the next door neighbors. I on the other hand am not one of them. I can barely function in the mornings enough to straighten my hair, make sure my son's teeth aren't turning yellow, dab some powder on my nose and out the door I go. So, it was no surprise that when I looked up one day last week and notice that the plant that everyone told me would need no tender loving care was dead as a door nail. 

I am not a plant person, hell I am barely a dirt person period. I wasn't sure what to do. I stood there looking at it scratching my head thinking, hmmm? I don't have a trash bag large enough to throw it away, I am pretty sure my son's vitamins won't revive it, do I call my mother, friends, aunts or cousins? I mean I killed a cactus once for god sakes. That's right a cactus. See I have got an eclectic family. Free spirited would be a pretty good word. One of my family members had this wife or was it a girlfriend? I can't remember. He's a stud muffin and its okay, I like meeting new people. Anyway, she gave me a cactus. Being nice I took it home in its pot, set it on my patio and left it for dead. It survived the cold winter and spring, so one day during the super hot summer I gave it some water. The next day, I looked at it and it was dried up worse than Sharpei puppy. The pot and the brown stick went to the silver can for Monday morning pickup. 

I claim to be a rose connoisseur. I once had 7 rose bushes at my house. In full bloom, they were beautiful. People always asked me how I raised such beautiful roses. I lied. I told them I watered them every day and fed them miracle grow. Truth is I didn't do jack shit. If they survived the summer with the tweedle bugs and the winter then I felt like I was a prize winning rose grower. If it was up to me the only water they would get was when it rained. Actually, "Duh" waters them, I just clip and set them on the table to look pretty. 

So I am standing over this plant all drooped over with pieces of missing leaves and bite marks where the dog has obviously been taking a few nibbles, wondering what do I do. It's kind of special plant, I got it when my step dad passed away in January. The fact it even lived this long was an accomplishment. I was torn because it was a reminder of him but then it made me sad that this was all I had from that day. The plant and I chat. I lifted up its leaves, held it and made a deal. I said, "Plant, I think I am going to give you some water." So I filled up a rather large pitcher full of water and poured it in. I explained that if not better in two days, I would have to take it to a place where it probably get tossed around like yesterdays garbage and it wasn't a happy place..the dump. Low and behold, two days later, its leaves were standing straight up, all green, vibrant and frisky. That's the day I proclaimed myself the "Plant Whisperer." Who knew? I love the discovery of special gifts. I often think I have premonitions, but to have this gift is amazing. Move over Dog Talker guy, I am coming for ya. 

I am not one with nature and yet, a few drops of dew and a soft voice and I brought something precious back to life. Yeah, I know a crock of crap, but it sounded good and I made all the earth saving peeps happy. I love it when two worlds collide. 

Do you have any extraordinary gifts? I have so many more to share. Have a great Monday and remember save a plant, ride a cowboy.

Tree Hugs,

Dusty

Happy Birthday Lovah!

Happy Birthday to my one and only, Chad. Sometimes known as Honey, Baby, Damn it, Jackass, Duh, Lumpkins and every other silly ridiculous name you could say to some that you love with all your heart.

You are 40 today and yes, I know you take pride in knowing you made it. That you think that its just another day.

So thank you

for

14 years of unrehearsed bliss

Teaching me my indoor voice ( I tend to be rather loud)

Knocking me up

Defending me

Making me love and hate you all at the same time

Smile

Playing the 12 year old fart game with the covers I understand that with boys

it never gets old

Using half a roll of toilet paper when you poop

Giving me hemorrhoid advice

Letting me get out of chopping wood

Sharing coffee

Painting the hallway

Being over the top

Your terrible dancing moves which make me laugh

The little freckle on your lip

Friendship

Kisses

I love you's

Our many doggies

Your exaggerated stories

Giving me your last name

Finding it funny to pee off the front porch

Being the speed slayer on our street

letting me ride on the back of the motorcycle and just be pretty

teaching me what the green slime in a lobster is

Dad

and finally

being Mine!

I don't know much about anything but I know that I will love you the rest of my life.

Happy Birthday, dawling!

Halloween 2007

our "not to serious" family

dad to our worthless guard dogs

Happy Birthday. I am glad you were born!

Dusty

Two Cents Thursdays

I am drained. This week has been a doozy. But I thought I would give you my two cents and then fill ya in on some Insta photos. 

First, work sucks..enough said. The stress of it makes me want to flog people.


Second, anyone see the picture of Jessica Simpson on the cover of Elle nude and prego? I was all about it and a bag of chips until she said, she would die if her child asks for Nike's instead of Christian Louboutins. Really, how about shoes from Wal-mart? That might send her right to the loony bin. 


I shaved my legs. So sorry for the gorilla that entered my pipe drain.


Easter's coming. Evil candy people already have the candy sent out and I am purchasing it. My weakness is Robin Eggs. I will eat them until I poop rainbow colors for weeks. Oh, wait that's Starburst's. There good get some. 


(In my most southern Steel Magnolia voice) My son is sevuuuuun....And if he doesn't watch his mouuuuth, he's going to need a new dentissssssssst. This is also followed by lots of eye rolling, hand swaying and the sarcastic smiling. Ugh, why do they have to talk and think they know it all. This is for all the pregnant blog girls who are just soooooooooooo happy to be knocked up. Just you wait! You'll long for the days when they just point and grunt.


Ok, onto the photos. These are the days of my life that I bring you you on Thursday because I am too tired to rant and rave.

we live 3 minutes from this New York style pizza joint

its the devil

every year they say Uggs are out

Victoria Beckham said you won't catch her in public in a pair

that's because her 1 inch round legs probably can't keep them on

Proud Ugg American

She had twins..what's my excuse?

this bombed my house last Friday

thank you Tornado, the bath tub was a lovely place to pray

my drink of choice

this is how I survive the days of insanity

self portraits

I decided after I posted this yesterday I am Vangogh 

So there you have it. Did you like how I have a pizza, Mt. Dew and a fitness magazine in the same blog? Yeah, slow process this workout stuff. But I am getting there. I did the 5 minutes of jump rope. Four minutes and 55 seconds of it was deep breathing. 

Happy Thursday. Give me your two cents.

Hugs,

Dusty

What I Wore Wednesday

I usually do some fabulous fashion post on Wednesday. I link up with a few good chicks, show you my Pinterest findings and you can goo and ga over them. I do this because I am still kinda chicken to do self photos of my outfits and today, well was no exception. I was frump girl. But I thought I would describe and illustrate what I wore (really on Tuesday.)

Top: Gap T-shirt that I have had for years. I put it on this morning, got deodorant on the side and ended up with a cream sweater that I got from JCP.

Jeans: Old Navy size 6 but should have been a size 8. Pretty tight in the thighs. I walked around like a wood leg pirate and thank gawd I had on a sweater because I think I might have had camel toe and my belly was hanging over after lunch of mac-n-cheese.

Socks: Brown and boring

Underwear: Granny panties in the color purple all cotton Haynes Her Way thank you very much. Remember No Thong Zone for me. If your unfamiliar or new clink link and you will see why

Bra: Old as dirt. Offers no support. Pretty sure there are little elastic pieces poking out.

Belt: Target. I know black and brown are a no no but I had on the sweater remember, no one could see

Shoes: Tree hugger brown slip-ons. I hate them with a passion because they hurt my flat ass feet, but I was in a hurry this morning and just slipped them on. I don't feel like hugging any trees when I wear them.

Hair: Fab. I got my roots stimulated this weekend and eye brow wax so I feel like a woman again.

So since I am still a bock bock, I thought I would illustrate my outfit. That way when you are looking at what you wore thinking you were fab..this will make you feel even better. 

as you can see from the front view I think this is the casual look

side view 

I didn't draw in camel toe

So this is what I wore Wednesday really Tuesday. Feel free to cut these out and play paper dolls with your daughters and explain that real women have curves or that's what all the magazines say. I say it's a winding road. 

Happy Wednesday Beauties!

Dusty

Chicken Noodle Casserole

I haven't posted a recipe in a bit. I brought work home over the weekend, since there was a little tornado in the area if you haven't heard. Plus, I am doing a huge proposal at work and working some at night so there is no telling what you will get out of me this week. I am so high on Sweet Tea and Robin Eggs -malted milk balls that the evil candy people produce at Easter time. I bought the bag on Friday for tornado stock pile and the bag is almost gone. Pah..lease is was for an emergency.

I make this casserole when I can't think and I need something easy and quick. Here's the goods. Enjoy.

3 large cans of white meat chicken

1 box Stove Top

3 cups egg noodles

2 cans of cream of chicken soup

8 oz sour cream

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

Preheat oven 350

Prepare stove top as directed in microwave.

Boil noodles until cooked

Then mix stove top, chicken, cream of chicken soup, and sour cream

Add noodles and mix

Sprinkle with cheese

Bake until bubbly about 30 - 45 minutes

*A little note, substitute one can of cream of chicken with cheddar cheese soup for extra cheesy flavor.

There you have it..I already had taken a bite before I took the picture. And no this isn't on my diet plan, but I only ate one serving and then went back to the Robin Eggs.  Have a great Tuesday. 

Hugs,

Dusty

No Thong Zone

Did everyone have a great weekend? Oh, mine was another adventure, but that's for another day. Let's just say a trip to the vet and my dog apparently has a hemorrhoid like her mother. It's true. Dogs get the dangling death or the equivalent of them like in humans, so she also has problems with her anus. We are a team. Apparently, my dogs and I share so much. Last month, I had to share maxi pads with the one on her period and now the oldest lab has anal seepage. We are NOT sharing the same medicine. I love her so much but I am not giving up my Prep H. Call me selfish, but she can drag her ass and make it feel better. I, for reasons only known by God, cannot do the same. This is just delish. But back to the original story. 

Last weekend, I had to go exchange some jeans that I had ordered on-line. You remember those flared LC jeans I featured in my blog? Well, the jeans and fluffy didn't get along so I tried to return them for another size, but to no avail, other people seem to have a fluff problem, so I just got my money back. Figuring I had $34 smacks, I would look around. I see this cute dress for summer but only on the mannequin, so a nice middle aged lady came over and I asked if she could get it down. I look at it and am pretty convinced I will buy it since it was $21 smacks and then she says, "well its pretty sheer, you  might want to check out our intimate department and get a t-strap to go with it." Huh? A t-strap? Why in the world would I wear a jock strap with this dress. So I said, you mean a thong? She said, "yes, those things that young women wear so they have no panty lines." Looking at her like she had four heads, I mean she was a blue hair telling me I should wear a thong, knowing she probably has on exactly what I have on...granny panties, I wondered over. 

Let me tell you its been years since I wore one of those t-straps. I think after a certain age, you just don't and second, she obviously didn't take a gander at my milkshake. I put on a thong and I am sure it would get lost somewhere amongst the massive cinnabons I am lugging around. Plus, I need something a little tight across thy skin because when I walk, it looks like two pigs fighting over a piece of cornbread. I carry the dress across the store, go  take a peak. Memories started to pour in and I then remembered distinctly why I don't wear them anymore. First, my butt crack doesn't need dental care. Second, with the current ailment, I don't think it would be a healing process to wear it. 

I browse through a few and then it brings me back to the time, a few of my fabulous friends went to Atlanta for a girls weekend. My aunt, cousin and I stayed in a room together. We ended up at Coyote Ugly. Several drinks and shots later, we come back to the hotel after dancing enough to be the spot light of the original show and the hotel. We go to get dressed for bed and my cousin goes to put on her pj's, I look up and she has on this matching lime green bra and thong. All of the sudden I blurted out, "oh my god your ass looks like it just swallowed Kermet the Frog!" After many minutes of uncontrollable laughing, snorting and silence with laughing again, we passed out from exhaustion from the giggles. That's when I gave up the thong. See I had worn one that night as well and all the dancing and repeated digging the next morning was uncomfortable, but seeing someone else's butt swallow a granny smith apple put it perspective. I never looked at my own butt to see what it looked like but seeing her butt, I realized, there is nothing beautimus about anyone's hiney. It's two mounds of dough divided by a line a fabric. I, from that point forward entered the "No Thong Zone." I tried boyfriend undies once but because my butt looks like a busted can of biscuits in them, they just rolled up on the sides and those went to the trash. These underwear are only meant for horn dog men, to look pretty and be gone in two point two seconds. They aren't for long term use. 

So, I wandered back over to the section, put the dress back and walked out. I am trying to convince myself that the dress could be worn without the usage of a t-strap, but because the help even mentioned it, I was detoured. Sorry, Kohls, but Mee Ma helped bring back painful memories and you lost the sale on that day. I may be back or order it on-line that way when I receive it at home I can throw on my granny panties and walk around to see the jiggle factor and shine a light on the dress to see if you can observe my wassa or not. 

I am proud to have entered the "No Thong Zone" even if it makes me un-hip, not sexy or it saves one frog in this world.

Happy Monday!

Dusty 

Hola Saturday

I know, don’t fall out of your chairs. I don’t usually blog on Saturdays cause that’s family time. Although I set at my computer half the morning and catch up on blogs and comments. But I sometimes have to because I am appreciative that anyone even remotely mentions me in their blog. Being a sweet southern bell, you say thank you.  So today is a day of thanks and fun stuff. Take a gander at these lovely ladies. They are awesome!

First let me say thank you to Grace over at Grace Loves Iggy blog. She bestowed the Liebster Blog award to me. I love receiving this award. So sweet. She has a adorable family and I love her little boy’s name is Iggy. How cute is that?

Next my baby face Anna at A Sweet Southern Mess gave me the Sunshine Award. She is so sweet. So here are a few facts about me. Make a note. I am so complex with these answers I don’t know if anyone will ever understand me..HA!

My favorite color? Pink, what can I say, I am a girly.

Favorite animal? All animals. I love animals. I’d rather set a human on fire than an animal. I currently have two wonderful beasts. Yellow labs, Mille and Libby.

Favorite number? 6

Favorite non alcoholic drink?  Mt.Dew, my kidneys say thank you.

Prefer Facebook or Twitter? Either/Or. Since I have been blogging, I prefer to read interesting people. Facebook tends to get catty because people think what you post is about them and it’s not. Twitter is fun because its instant update.

My passion? Life.

Prefer getting or getting presents? Both, I didn’t say I was Saint Mary. And I am not going to lie and say, oh, it makes me feel so much better to give than receive. We all know that but sometimes its nice to be appreciated.

Favorite pattern? I am a hippie girl at heart so I like all the paisley mix match patterns. I can say for sure that large strips aren’t my friend.

Favorite Day of the week? Friday.

Favorite Flowers? I love roses. The yellow ones with the red/orange tips.

Finally, Katie over at The Lee Family Happenings sent the SevenXSeven award my way. This pretty lady is too sweet, has the cutest little boy and is pregnant with her second child. Oh, and she is 2 pounds soaking wet pregnant. I was a whale when I was that far along. Really, they Free’d Willie when I got pregnant. Thank god for diet plans. So here are my SevenxSeven.

7 Facts

I have naturally curly dark brown hair, but I put the kibosh on the brown and now I pretend it’s the color of Jennifer Aniston's.

I am not really from Hoboken, but I pretend that I am.

I hate to shave my legs, but I do it.

I am currently obsessed with redoing my house.

I love to cook

I don’t sugar coat anything. I usually speak my mind.

I love taking photos with my new iPhone.

7 Posts

NoLonger Friends.

Whatif?

NoWaxing in my Future

HeyHomeslice

Baconand Cheese Bread Bowl

TwoCents Thursday

Myweek in Instagram and Pixlr

So there you have it. Thank you so much to these beautiful chicks. I am humbled every time I receive one of these. I feel accepted into blog land. I sorta didn't follow the rules. Sorry, I have a hard time picking blogs because I think everyone is great. 

Happy Day everyone!

Dusty

Conversation with Dusty

Hello, Friday, I heart you, forever. I wish I had a trapper keeper and I would write it on there with a big heart around it. I have a few things I wanted to post on this day, but instead I thought I would share some funnies for the weekend. 


So, don't think I am a whackadoodle, but I have been obsessed ever since I saw the picture of Whitney Houston in her casket. Has anyone seen it? National Enquirer posted this picture of her that someone took. First, yeah, it's not nice but curiosity killed this cat and I totally looked. I wasn't wigged out by the thought of her lying there. I focused in on her hair. I know, really Dusty? Yes, I am so pissed off. I mean she was kind of like Elvis. I thought I would see her all fluffed up with a white jumpsuit and cape instead her hair is swirled up like what us crackers would call a french knot and she's got on a purple Barney dress. So, to validate my craziness I enlisted a few of my friends in the conversation. Here's how it played out.


Conversation #1 with Becca who knows me probably better than anyone, so believe me this doesn't surprise her when I ask questions like this. Plus, she is one of the calmest people I know. She sometimes looks at me like I have four heads and most of our conversations usually end with her saying "you ain't right."


Me: Have you seen the picture of Whitney in her casket?
B: Yes
Me: Did you see her hair? It's awful.
B: You not a fan of the bee hive?
Me: No, who would do her hair like that? I am going to ask my cousin Rachel. She knows everything about celebrities even down to Brad Pitt's birthday.
B: What's wrong with knowing celebrities birthday's? Jon Bon Jovi's birthday is coming up.
Me: I know he shares the same birthday with someone else I know. 


End of conversation. Total fail. Happy Birthday Becca. I love you so much! Today is her birthday. She and Jon Bon Jovi.


Conversation #2 with Wendy. My wonderful friend who drifts as much as I do. But she to understands my sense of humor. And starts a conversation when she calls you on the phone exactly where you left off from text.


Me: Did you see the picture of Whitney in her casket?
W: No, I only saw seen of scenes.
Me: What the f..k is a scene?
W: Of her in the bathtub.
Me: Well, I will send it too you.  I couldn't send from my phone but she ended up finding it. (2 hours later the phone rings..remember what I said in the opening sentence)
W: So, yes. I saw it. She looks awful. 
Me: Who would do her hair like that?
W: Well, this is what they did. (Being a hairstylist starts describing how they styled it)
Me: I don't give a rats ass how they styled it hun, who authorized that hair style?
W: Have you got your motor running? 
Me: Where are you at?
W: At home talking to Harley.
End of conversation, that ended with her talking to her cat. Total Fail.


Conversation #3 with my cousin Rachel. Rachel is full of useless knowledge. She is just as enthralled with celebrity smut as I am. She to understands my conversations. We have them often. We are cousins and best friends. She also has 3 children. Saint she is. 


Me: Have you seen the picture of Whitney in her casket from the National Enquirer?
R: The only one I saw was from the National Enquirer.
Me: Duh, Yes, that's it.
R: You know Bobby Brown took that picture.
Me: I don't care about who took it. Did you see her hair?
R: Yeah, its kind of 50's looking.
Me: Who would do her hair like that?
R: Well, I think she has someone that always did her hair.
Me: But why would they make her look like one of the Supreme's? (insert lots of laughter)
R: Uh, yeah. I don't know.
Me: I think they should go dig her up and redo her hair. She should look like a superstar. Call someone to come and give her some beachy waves then put her back.
R: Uh, yeah. Did you see that interview with Lindsey Lohan?
Me: No, she's a puffer.
R: Oh, girl you should look it up. They want her to play Elizabeth Taylor in a movie.
Me: I will have to look it up. 
R: You need to look it up. Don't forget tornado's tomorrow on Dr. Seuss's Day. 
Me: Yeah, Ian has to wear pajamas. 
R: Yes, well, I gotta go beat my children now. 
Me: Okay, love you.
R: Love you too.


Conversation ended. Total fail. Although we did agree she needed a different hairstyle and there was a long silence when I said she needed to be dug up and her hair redone. Oh, well, this will just have to be something for the record books because I got no where. But they understood because it came from me.


And finally, for Shaylynn. I heard yesterday Snooki was pregnant. After reading Shay's blog yesterday and snorting out loud. I decided to share my favorite Snooki moment.

So if anyone is wondering, I think the baby daddy is a tree. Seriously, when the kid is 2 he will be taller than she is right now. 


Thus ends conversation with Dusty. I hope everyone has wonderful weekend. 

Hugs,

Dusty

I Believe

Today, I am forgoing my usual Two Cents Thursday post and linking up with Anna at A Sweet Southern Mess. She is a doll baby! Love her! The linky party is called A Beautiful Day to Believe. I love this because the one word journey thing is going around and although I didn’t join in the fun, I have commented on some blogs with this word. “Believe” is a word I always come back to. It will be tattooed on my wrist before the summer is up. It’s the one thing that I have told myself over and over. You just have to “believe” and everything will be the way it should be. But here are a few other things I believe.

I believe in Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. What you don’t? Why not? Let’s take this outside right now! (I am a mommy I have to believe in those things and its fun).

I believe every female at birth should be issued a full length mirror. There will be a time in your life where momma can’t look at you and say, “you aren’t leaving the house looking like that.” Seriously, birth, name engraved and carry it with you for life.

I believe in girl power. Am I a feminist? No way. Why in the world would I wish I had a penis and boobs? And, I can’t burn my bra because I can’t afford anymore, but I do believe that women should build each other up, not tear each other down.

I believe in Owning It. If you screw up, own it. Admit mistakes, say you did it, I am sorry and move on. The only time I disagree with owning it, is when you attack someone’s character. If you result to name calling and you’re supposed to be friends, then you cross a line. Friends fight, but not with ugly names.

I believe in hugs and kisses.

I believe in Karma..100 percent!

I believe in love and the power of it- bad and good.

I believe I probably won’t like my son’s girlfriends when he gets older. What? Don’t set there and say you will support all his decisions etc. I didn’t say I wouldn’t, I just have this mentality right now that, he’s mine. I have marked my territory; pee’d on it, did the dog burn out and covered him up. Of course, he is only 7, I got time to mellow out.

I believe in Preparation H and Tucks pads.. if you’ve read my blog last week you will know why. This may be only a temporary belief.

And finally, I believe in life. The right to chose it, the Heavens above and what all it throws at me. I believe we are put here for a reason, but what we do with our life is of our own choices. Is there fate? Is there destiny? I don’t know. I just know that at this moment I have what I need (with the exception of Hunter boots). I was given a gift, my son. I just have to believe that his future will be full of happiness and love and whatever comes on this ride, I will see through his eyes.

Happy Thursday Friends, Link up,

Dusty