WTF is Twitter?

I'm new to this blogging thing.

Look at how many followers I have & you might notice that. (But thanks Dr. Zibbs for the shout out on your blog, you brought a bunch of people over to me & got me some new fellow lunatiks! And btw, I love your blog more than rare steak.)

Since I'm new, I thought that I should just start clicking on everyone else's fave blogs (to steal ideas) see what's out there, see how to go about this, etc.

I'm addicted. Like a crack whore with a $20 to spend on a rock, addicted. There are so many talented writers, funny & intelligent people in blogland! I'm so addicted that I keep forgetting to write in my own blog as I read other peoples and comment!

But being me, I have favors to ask of y'all:

How do you link video? How do you put a line through words/strike them? How do you make them so cool and/or pretty looking with the headers, graphics, sidebars? What is Twitter & will it make me sexier? How do I get more people to come read my profanity?

Thanks in advance for any help given and welcome everyone to Phat Mama!

I Fear The Geriatric.

So, I'm sure all of my readers (8) wonder what someone as funny, smart, and charming as I am does for a living.

Well, ponder on it no longer! I take care of an 89 year old man who was in the Navy for 30 years. He's also a born and bred, redneck southerner. (Is that redundant?)

His name is Sam and he thinks the KKK is a public service organization that helps folks out in times of need. He's completely politically incorrect on almost every subject & doesn't care. He's outspoken, hysterical, very intelligent and God bless him, he still wipes his own ass.

The reason Sam is coming up today for the first time (of many, I suspect) is because as I peruse the offerings of the blogospere this afternoon, he is sat next to me at the dining room table, patiently cleaning, oiling and adjusting both his binoculars and one of his many guns.

He just lifted the binoculars up to his face and peered at me.

He has cataracts and can barely focus on Walker, Texas Ranger each night as Chuck kicks everyone's ass while singing his own theme song.

But I -promise- y'all, if he sets down the binoculars and picks up the gun to shoot whatever or whoever has pissed him off today, I'm going to get my first exercise this year when I dive for the floor.

Because someone (possibly the yankee girl with the big butt & boobs and smart mouth) burnt his fucking grits this morning.

Bald Bush.

It took me four days of seeing this 'lady razor' commercial to get the message behind the visual.

Women would walk by a bush or bushes and magically, the bush would transform to a neatly trimmed circle or triangle or rectangle.

It's a razor on one end and a 'bush trimmer' on the other end.

The commercial is tacky and yet.. clever.

When it finally hit me last night, (because while tacky, I'm not so clever) what the green, trimmed bushes were signifying, I turned to my 18 year old daughter and said in my best (shocked) soccer mom voice, "Do you GET what that commercial is saying?!"

She looked up from banging away a text message on her phone and replied, "Yeah, they should have made one bush with no leaves.. like bald."

*mutters to herself & goes to borrow some booze from Vodka Mom*

Chin Hair.

I woke this morning (11 a.m.'ish) to an 'in the mood' hubby. It's Sunday, no kids at home, so okay - he gets some of my hotness.

And then.. I remembered that I forgot to pluck the teeny little hairs out of my chin. So the whole time, I couldn't focus on his umm, abilities. Instead, I was hoping he didn't think I was having a seizure as my hands kept flailing up around the offending area.

I had the quick mental conversation with myself - Which is worse, double chin or hairy chin? - and then pushed my head down, thinking double chin.. way better than bearded lady.

Sadly, he didn't take the hint when I tried to flip over. (Perfect position for hiding the chin, right.) "No baby, this is good, stay right there." (My mental response: Can't you see the F'n hairs & when the hell did you start popping Viagra, porn star?)

I couldn't use Kegels to end things sooner (so I could dash and pluck) because I'm so lazy that I won't even work out -those- muscles.

I may be exaggerating the amount of stubble. It's really just a stray hair (tiny damnit) here and there. A sign of aging. A sign that my estrogen has slowed to a trickle. But it was bugging me. Even after 18 years of marriage, I still want to be a sex kitten for him.

It was only later, while removing the offenders that I remembered him telling me he needs to see an eye Doctor. Apparently, he is having trouble seeing things that are close to his face. Next time this happens, I'm going to be all up in his grill so that all he sees is blurred perfection.

Addicted to Bathing.

At any given time of day, no matter what I'm doing, I'll have the overwhelming urge to take a bath.

Hot - steaming hot - water.
The scent of Japanese Cherry Blossom body bath foaming into outrageously huge bubbles.
Candles lit.
Music playing in the background.
Me - submerged, hair floating, that water soothing a body that is creeping towards the aches and pains of middle age.

I will stop what I'm doing and the need for all of that washes over me (excuse the pun) and if I'm at home, I rush for the tub.

When my children were younger, they would sit on the toilet and talk to me. I learned some of the most important things about the process of them growing up while I rested back in the bubbles and listened to them chatter at me.

Now they are not around much. They are nearly grown. I close my eyes & listen for them and hear laughter, words whispering around me, like when you sing in the shower.. that echo it leaves behind. That is what I hear now. It's bittersweet. It's my perfect moment of solitude.

The South Will Rise Again

The craziest thing I've heard since being back in North Carolina:

While watching 'Family Feud' with an 89 year old man and upon repeating the question back to him - "What organization helps people in times of trouble?" - he replied, completely seriously, "The KKK."

The oddest thing I've seen since being back:

An El Camino monster truck with spinner rims and a rebel flag paint job, parked at 'Pig Pickin BBQ'.

The least sexy thing I've seen since being back:

A guy with a full on mullet, dressed in cut off Levi shorts (I could see he had an itty bitty package), a cut off AC/DC tshirt that showed his abs of flab, flip-flops and a dangly skull earring. My daughter actually yelled, "Look, Joe Dirt!"

The most sexy thing I've seen since I've been back:

My husband. What can I say? He's yummy.

My worst experience since being back:

The 89 year old man formerly mentioned telling me that I really have to eat some 'greens', they're good for you, Jody! And a day after eating them, realizing that if he meant they clean you out from esophagus to asshole, sure.. they're the damn redneck colonic.

A fact about NC:

Gravy goes well on everything. Bisquits, pork tenderloin, grits, deep fat fried twinkies.. yep, ladle some on there because yanno, the deep fat friend twinkie by itself just isn't enough. We need some gravy on that mofo!

Another fact about NC:

Fat girls are HOT!

My favorite things about NC:

Bojangles dirty rice, the sweet southern drawls, Concord Mills, Lowes Motorspeedway, Chinese food at midnight, sweet tea, high speed internet!! Waffle House!


My least favorite things about NC:

The excess traffic. Obviously people do not understand the interstate system was put into place for me. Just me. Move. Move your fucking piece of shit El Camino, Joe Dirt.

A Pig Butt BBQ joint on every corner. I hate BBQ. Mow them all down and put up more Chinese places. Preferably buffets. Unless Pig Butt serves breakfast all day, then they can stay.

How Southerners think every place is just '5 minutes down the road.'

No, it's an hour away! Just say it straight. Tell me you need me to meet you in damn Georgia because you found a hot sale on Nascar stuff and your car isn't big enough to haul it back.When they give you directions to meet them, they use the church on the right as a marker for you to look for.

It's the SOUTH - there is a church on every block. Sometimes four of them, one on every corner to save the redneck hooker standing out there trying to make a 20-spot to buy her a crack rock in the back of Pig Butt. It's like an extra value meal they have. Super size the rock.

I'm sure this list will grow, more soon.