They Call Me Yuck Mouth

Over the Memorial Day weekend, I don't think I moved much except to eat and pee. I literally stayed inside and on my iPad for days. And although some might think that I was a lazy ass. I totally was. I honestly didn't want to do anything. It was a long weekend and I utilized my restless skills to the max. Pinterest and I were buds. So, I came across this post on how to make your teeth whiter. I pinned it and then two days later decided to try it.

Here's what you will need.

1 teaspoon of baking soda
1 teaspoon of peroxide
1 dab of toothpaste
1 dixie cup (or Red Solo Cup, I fill you up)

Mix all ingredients together, then put on your tooth brush. It's not a thick paste. I brushed for two minutes. And the outcome was this. I guess if you did this once a week like recommended for a month you might see results. I did notice a slight difference but other than that the only difference I noticed was my teeth were really clean and squeaky. Be careful with the peroxide it is a little hard on the gums. So, will I try it again? I don't know. It tasted like crap but I might just give it another whirl for a month to see. One day probably isn't significant enough. Why can't the white strips be cheaper.

So, do you have any home remedies? Fill me in.

Happy Wednesday,

Dusty

Cherry Bomb

Tuesday's aren't they just full of hope? Not really. Tuesdays are like the worst days besides Monday. But its closer to Friday. Sorry, I have been in a funk lately. I have had no will power to blog. No will power to read. No will power to do much of anything. I have sort of lost my mojo. People pissing on my parade and I don't like it. 

Let's just get to it. This weekend was the Honky Tonk with some great peeps. I met new friends and got to do alot of people watching. I did a little dancing. My legs hurt the next day which means I am way out of shape. And I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache which only means I am not a professional drinker anymore. In other words, me and drinking are only friends until the next day. 

Here's the highlights. Beer, shots, beer, dancing with fingers, pee bandit, uncontrollable giggles, Waffle House, bed. 

The place that we go has a cover of $8 smacks and free beer until 11 pm. You can't beat that. Here's where the shots came in. We had a bet, me and my partner in crime, Becca with my former partner in crime Mary who moved. She won the bet so we said we would do shots in her honor. All I know is I don't like shots. I don't do them but a bet is a bet. I do know that I will never drink something called a Cherry Bomb again.

Next on our way to the awful Waffle Becca has to pee. Like really pee bad, to the point of cold sweats. I ask her if she wants me to pull over. She says yes. Driving down the road I pull over on the side of the road behind this building. Nothing out of the ordinary just the back of a building with another smaller building with a light on and a motorcycle parked beside it. Becca gets out runs around the car and in T minus two seconds five burly bikers come flying around the corner. Before she could even get her pants down, she takes off like the road runner around to the passenger side, jumps in, I put it in reverse and back up and speed away like the Dukes of Hazzard. We drove by and I noticed the sign. Knowing a little about the biker world realized that this was a motorcycle cop club which then became even more funny. We sped off like crazy. Becca still had to pee. I go a little ways down the street, pull into a grocery store with a fully lit parking lot, she jumps out and lets it rip. I laughed so hard I banged my head on the horn while it honked loudly. I swear we can't go anywhere without something happening. We laughed, while she explained I needed to hurry to the Waffle House so she could go wipe. Really at this point it doesn't matter? But it was still hysterical. I have never seen that girl run and jump into a car so fast in my life. Good times.

And for your viewing pleasure, here it is. The video of the night. You have to listen to it closely. I love how the DJ is counting down for the line dance to begin while we are getting ready to do this disgusting shot. Oh, and mine was as full as Becca's but I said, no way and poured mine into someone else's glass. Believe me what I took was enough. Ugh!

Jun 8, 2013 | by dustydunbaralley on Keek.com

Happy Tuesday!

Dusty

Rhino Reject

As I set here eating this diet mac and cheese, yes diet mac and cheese. You want to fight about it? I didn't think so. Give me a break, this low sugar thing is not fun and I am drinking Sprite Zero which basically tastes like crap. But it will do because I am starting to get used to it. And for the record, I had to take control of my life and bring coffee back. So instead of five teaspoons of sugar there are the lone three. It's not the same but I had to stop wasting my money on flavored creamer because it just wasn't working for me.

Any way, even though it's Tuesday, I hope everyone had a great weekend. I got to have a few glasses of Sangria on Friday night with my wonderfully, beautiful friend, Lorraine. And now the count down is on to Honky Tonk Saturday but I am not going to say a lot about it except maybe a few times all week long. Last week was also D day with the allergist. I arrived at my appointment 20 minutes early as requested. The door was locked. Who tells you to come to an appointment and not leave the door open? Seriously, who am I going to rob? A bunch of nurses with 71 types of tree serum they inject into your body? Woo wee. That will make you high as a giraffe's ass. After calling and them letting me in, I fill out the necessary paperwork, go into a room and wait. A nurse comes in and asks me to blow into this contraption like blowing out candles. That went over smoothly. I failed with flying colors. Puh-lease give me some real candles will ya?

She then comes back in and says the doctor would be in to see me in a few. Oh, goody, I can't wait. NOT! Then walks in Dr. McHottie. I mean seriously, who would have thought that a snot doctor could look so good.  Well, shitballs, if I knew that I would have dressed up for the occasion of checking my nasal passages and discussing my addiction to Kleenex tissues. I might have even trimmed my hose hairs and had my upper lip waxed since he was so up close and personal. He explains to me the process of the test which I didn't hear a word he said because I was focused on the once used to be hole in his ear from an earring which told me at one time he was a wild rebel. Grrr. He walks out, the nurse comes back and states the process again because I wasn't listening. Then it goes ding dong in my head.  Am I wearing the most ragged bra I own? He can't poke my back with a bra that is now the color of grey with strings and stuffing hanging out. So I immediately ask to go to the restroom to see if I put on a good or bad bra. I run to the restroom, take my shirt off, see that I am good to go and Dr. Sexy pants can look at my supple back all he wants.

I go back in, the nurse says take your shirt and bra off and put this paper contraption on and lie on your stomach. Oh, this is getting better, the bra didn't matter, thank god I shaved under my arms. So, I am setting in this cold ass room thinking I am about to be up close and tit personal with Doc McStuffins and the nurse walks in and says, "Now I am going to administer the test on your back." Uh, say what? You? What happened to Snot Patrol? I just had an up close and personal conversation about by rhino area in which he was almost lip to lip and you are going to poke me? What a friggin, let down. At that point, I didn't care if she stuck my butthole. And then to make it worse, I fail some of the test and then she had to inject me 13 different times with needles to see if I was allergic to something else. My date with the Dr. Doolittle just went from dinner for two to Match fucking dot com reject.

After it was all said and done, he comes in, tells me I am allergic to basically the state of Tennessee, schedule  an appointment to start taking shots every week and have a great day. I mean the bastard could have slapped me on the ass like a football coach and said, "nice job." Oh, well, that's what I get. It's not like I would have went out with him, he was married and had kids (see up close and personal) but it sure was good to feel wanted. That's right -wanted. He wanted my co-pay and I end up with nothing but a bunch of snot reducing medicine. Remind me that doctors are pimps next time I have the idea that any one of them could be Dr. McDreamy would ya! This is defiantly a classic case of getting poked and not getting kissed.

Happy Tuesday,

Dusty

I Took A Dump!

"Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the what's in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will." -Hope Floats

I love that quote from one of my favorite movies. So, whether it's renewing old friendships with a night out, succeeding in class, working your way up the top or realizing life is moving on, make everyday count.

Have a great weekend friends,

Dusty

Oh! What a Night!

Last week, I posted just a little fragment of a throw back picture on Instagram. This week I am sharing the whole photo for those of you that didn't get to see it on my personal Facebook. And then it's story time.

(L to R: Rachel, Mary, Carla, Me, Stephanie, Becca)

So you know I have been pondering life lately, friendships and my future. Like I have said, with my sweet Mary moving away, I don't want to regret not spending time with people that I love and reconnecting to the friends who truly were and are my friends. These five women were in my life for a reason and this night was no exception. Here is a little back story and then a little about this night. 

It was 2003, my Bachelorette party. We drove to Atlanta for the weekend. I was once engaged to a guy. A great guy who brought some great people into my life. Let me just get this out of the way. I don't like hurting people unless I am defending my family or friends. We were together for a while. We had a great life. This was one of the happiest times in my life. But I hurt him and a lot of people. I strayed. I thought I wasn't worthy. I was fooled. The relationship because souly of me ended. I apologize to him, all of these people above and all of the people that I hurt during this time. 

As I raise my child, I find it sometimes difficult teaching him the lessons in life when myself need to rectify certain things that of happened over the last several years. Since having him I have done everything in my power to do the right things.  He was a wonderful guy, with a great family. I was lost. I hope someday there is forgiveness because we share some of the same friends. But after this ended there was a separation. Everyone went different directions. I know he doesn't read this blog nor gives a flying rats ass but from the bottom of my heart I am sorry to you and your family. I wish you well. I know that he has married now. I hope he's doing great happily married, receiving bunches of hugs and kisses with children running around and if its any consolation my life didn't end with a happy ending. It ended with a womanizing, cheating douchebag. I received my karma Mr. P. But, I do have a wonderful son out of it and I move on to find happiness for me and my child.

Okay, I feel better now. This was an eventful weekend. We started out on a road trip in a van driven by Stephanie, who bought it shortly before. We made a quick trip to pick up her tags and off we went. The ride down in the tube of death was eventful. After getting lost trying to find the hotel, crossing 4 lanes of traffic at wharp speed, we finally arrived. 

Saturday we got ready, went riding around Buckhead to find a party place. A guy standing outside with a megaphone shouted, "We want you on our bar!" Huh? My Aunt Carla said, "We are going in for one drink and leaving." Guess what? We never left. Coyote Ugly, we left our hearts with you! Here are the events of all these beautiful women above.

Rachel: My cousin. I think she slept through most of the death ride. I deemed her full of useless knowledge on this trip because she claimed to know Brad Pitt's birthday and all celebrity gossip. It was also discovered that after returning to our hotel and we were getting dressed for bed. I looked over and noticed that her bra and thong were neon green as she was bent over. In a drunken stupor, I yelled, "Oh, my god her ass just swallowed Kermit the Frog!" We laughed and snorted for a long time until passing out. 

Mary: Mary and Carla were no good on the way down. Mooning the interstate traffic. Mary and Becca in this friendship were the Jagermeister queens. Give them a bottle and usually Mary ended up on my floor. The highlight of this weekend was when the music was blaring and she is standing on the back of the booth, security had asked her to get down. After doing mouth to mouth shots of some clear liquid, looked at us and him and said, "He doesn't fucking know me!" She clapped her hands as to turn him off like a clapper light contraption and continued to dance. She only did so dancing while drunk. She eventually ordered food at Waffle House, passed out at the bar, woke up, went outside, and tried to get into the wrong van. Mary 0 - Coyote Ugly 1.

Carla: My aunt. My rock. The sensible one screaming at Mary not to do mouth to mouth shots. She's a nurse. Mary didn't care. At one point, I looked up and she had been swept off her feet by a gentleman. Literally in the air. It probably would have been fun but I think she was afraid her tits were going to pop out. She also couldn't believe that my cousin was wearing a lime green thong. Trust me. It was traumatic. 

Dusty: Had my hot pants on. Danced like I was a Solid Gold dancer. These were the days I wore a thong. This was the last weekend I did so. I am fairly certain, that I had to use a metal detctor to retrieve it from so far up my crack. At one point during the night while shaking my money maker, someone slipped $20 bucks in said thong that apparently was hanging out my hot pants. Sober I would have thrown the money back at them. Drunk, I bought a round for my friends. I am caring like that. I threw all thongs away after arriving home.

Stephanie: Driver of the Tube of Death. Has an unmistakable laugh. She's a people watcher and very hella tall. She and I line danced until my feet hurt. And she smoked the longest cigarettes in the world. Windshield pokers. I swear they were weapons. Beautiful heart and always in control. A little flirt. I think she did a little dirty dancing herself with a few. But if she was drunk I was drunker because I never could tell. 

Becca: My partner in crime. The calm one. Laughed until she cried. She and Rachel conspired alot I am sure. She's a silent dancer. Could drink us under the table. By the end of the night she was slurring her words. I always love when she got hammered, she pronounced everything slowly. She was the co-pilot. At one point, I am sure her eyes popped out of her head while riding in the bullet and prayed to Baby Jesus. This also was one of those rare moments she wore her hair down and had makeup on. She made me aware of this after seeing this photo.

So my point to this story is this. I love these girls. This was one of the best times of my life. Yes, we gathered for a reason, but that is the past. My future is to re-connect and although one of us is missing, we will toast in her honor and send her photos. I want to be able to say, "hey, lets get together and not let anything stop us." I am too old to dance on table tops again, but I do want to revive these friendships. For these five I will love forever. Next weekend, its Honky Tonk time and I get to see a few of these girls. I absolutely can not wait.

Happy Throwback Thursday,

Dusty

Honky Tonkin' Time in Tennessee

I have decided that its sort of time to get my buns in gear and live life a little bit. If you remember a few weeks ago I posted about my friend Mary moving away. It really put things in perspective for me. I don't want to spend my life missing my friends. I don't go out as often as I should but I decided that even with being a mom, that I can go out and have harmless fun which translates to Honky Tonk time. So my partner in crime, Becca are recruiting the troups and going out to see the cowboys. Now before you get all excited, cowboys aren't really my type. I am sure that if you read my blog enough, that I am a tattoo, rock and roll kind of girl, although I may change my ways to that thinking since I haven't had super luck. But that's okay. I am going to be open minded and by open minded I mean, forget the guys right? Let's go line dancin' and people watchin'. Yahoot!

So, in two weeks I will be fretting about my hair, makeup and clothes. I don't usually dress the honky tonk part. I never did. I used to have ton's of "club" clothes, but I got rid of those a long time ago. So, I am not sure what to wear but I am fairly certain I won't be wearing a flat pair of boots. I love them don't get me wrong, but if this girl is going to do it, I am going to do it up right.

Here's what I am thinking. I love graphic tees and I have been eyeing a Johnny Cash or Jack Daniels tee for a while. Pair it with some worn out jeans.

Then add. Some stackables and a great pair of black leather hooker heels and this could be a rockin' outfit.

Although, I don't know if I could find this shirt in time, but it sure would be cool, right? I mean its not your basic country but I can pull it off.

What do you wear when you go out to da club? 

Dusty

Where's Waldo?

No your eyes are not deceiving you. It's me. I know. I know. Blogger was a little shocked to. It took a long time to open the site because I think it didn't believe it was me and was doing a full body scan to make sure. Once it reached the breast area it was confirmed. No tits. Check. Proceed.

Did everyone have a great Memorial Day slash long weekend? I did. And if I see another skinny Barbie like figure in a bikini with a fruity drink in their hand I am going to order that they be sought out and destroyed by a Mob like group who force them to eat large pizza's three meals a day without exercise or sunlight for three weeks straight. Please bitches eat some beef.

Sorry I have neglected everyone. It's been a hectic two weeks. The Kid had baseball tournaments. And it literally consisted of go to work, get home, dress him in proper attire, attend such game, scream my lungs out, come home, eat, shower and bed. Then repeat the next day until the little shits got beat. Don't get me wrong I loved every second of it. But I was worn out. And I hear in this game of motherhood that it only gets worse as they get older. Oh goody. By that time, the gas prices will be sky high and I will have to revert to a dog and sled type transportation method which will get a lot of stares in the South since the only time it snows, is when the Midwest decides its had enough for a dumping season.

I also have just been dealing with life. I have not been feeling real swift lately. Another beautiful magical thing of living in Tennessee is the allergy season. I take medication for it but now I have to be fully tested this Friday. So I can't take any for seven days because it alters the test. By the weekend, I will look like Rudolph which is only supposed to fun a certain time of year. All I know is as soon as these tests are done I am going to pop a Zyrtec like a two rounder drug dealing hooker on dollar night.

I also in my lovely absence have taken up residence with a new doctor. My primary physician decided to up and close her practice without any warning. I suspect she ran off to join a line dancing cult. In the meantime, my aunt referred me to a great guy. The only catch is they used to date. He's now married with children, but he walks in, sticks out his hand and I am like, "Dude, we have been drunk together. Let's hug it out." After we get through the catch up on how ya been, whatcha been up to and yeah can you believe it, I have a kid, he sends me to have blood drawn. Six vials of it. If he wanted to paint a room with it, I would have bought him a gallon at Lowe's. He wants to check my sugar levels and every other test known to mankind that will be easy to cure with a vitamin. I explained to him that I feel like I am going through the change of life. Yet, he also seems to have had a major reaction when I told him I put 5 teaspoons of sugar in my coffee every morning. Apparently, this is frowned upon in this establishment. But it could explain my tiredness, night sweats and my ass ballooning up to the point of taking flight if my thighs weren't so big to keep me grounded.

So, in light of all this bullcrap. I decided to take matters into my own hands and cut out the sugars. I gave up my beloved Sprite for Sprite Zero. I am not real thrilled. I had no sugar in my coffee instead using flavored coffee creamer which I picked one that wasn't of my liking, Italian Sweet Cream. I thought maybe this was my ticket to cannoli flavored heaven but that was a bust. I am trying Vanilla Caramel tomorrow. I am not having bread and only good sugars. So far my head is pounding and I have pissed my brains out from the water intake but I am bound and determined to get in my swim suit before the season is up. And it works in my favor since Easter is over and I can't eat the Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, six at a time.

Did I just ramble? Okay, well, that's life lately and let me know your favorite coffee creamers. I am bound and determined if all else fails to save my teeth.

Happy Monday,

Dusty