Site menu:

Business end

Archives


Page Rank Check Page Rank Check
Violence Unsilenced: You are not alone, and you don't have to live this way.
I'm a featured blogger on Mamapedia Voices
Mommy's Joy
Thanks Abby!
Mommy's Joy
Thanks Pat!
Mommy's Joy
Thanks Sara!
BlogWithIntegrity.com
Mommy's Joy

Click here to go to Stupid.com

Mommy's Joy

Free Twitter buttons from languageisavirus.com



CLICK HERE TO BECOME A FAN OF MOMMY'S JOY!




Click for Austin, Texas Forecast

Wordless/ful Wednesday #31 -Redneck Warning Sign

There are some things that are sacred to a Redneck Camp Ben’er.  One of those things is their potty.  Each year a group of us, several families, get together and rent a port-o-pot for our camp sites.  We kinda park it in the middle of all of them so we all only have moderate walks, err. stumbles, in the middle of the night.  We also park it under a tree so it doesn’t start burning up in there under the Texas sun.  Can you imagine….. Port-o-pot….100 degree… direct sunlight…..molten lava flowing within….. You get the idea right?  After many years of doing this we have perfected the art of the camp pot.

But there is nothing worse then walking up to your yellow can and finding out that some strangers butt has fowled your port-o-pot.  Just because its sitting on property that someone might accidently walk by doesn’t mean its up for public usage people!  Therefore, I’ve created a sign to post on it.  Sadly, I doubt it will be seen at night by any drunken rednecks who only see a giant yellow box of bladder freedom but at least I can make an attempt.  However, anyone who ignores the sign during the daylight hours might have a surprise coming to them.  We’re watching you….We can seeeeeee you…. And that means we probably know where you’re caaaamping…. And therefore sleeeeping….  And you have to sleep sometime don’t you.  And my daughter is still pooping in her diapers…. Need I elaborate further????

You’ve had fair warning.

That is all.

For a more Wordless Wednesday go to 5 Minutes For Mom or Wordless Wednesday.com

And if you’re a fan of my Wordless/ful Wednesdaysplease show your love by letting Twitter know! It would be greatly appreciated and will bring you good Karma!!

Post to Twitter

Camp Ben! It’s A Family Tradition!

Here’s a little something I wrote last year in anticipation of the big event coming up…

“Let’s talk about a little thing called camping ya’ll!  And were not talking about going out to the woods, pitching a tent, daring the elements to get you type of camping.  We are talking about pitching the pop up camper, making sure it has a great power supply for the AC unit. Figuring out how to stock the camp refrigerator and not blow said power supply with the load. And lets not forget about the indoor/outdoor carpet that covers the rocky grassy ground where we will also pitch our canopies to block out as much sun as possible. Under that canopy is where we will set up our multitude of box fans and misters so we stay nice and cool while sitting out in the 100 degree Texas heat enjoying “nature”. That “nature” by the way isn’t of the cute little bambi next to the bubbling stream version but the shirtless, beer guzzling, possibly hairy and definitely sweaty, two legged, upright walking (most of the time) fellow camper. They are always filled with great conversation and wonderful stories that are shared with you as they visit your campsite or you drift over to theirs.

Yep, camping-lite is what we like to call it over Camp Ben.  Are you seeing the images now? Camp Ben is an old Confederate camp ground (And don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not about discrimination and white supremacy and all that nasty crap.  It’s about family and don’t forget the beer!) where each year 1000’s of “family” members gather (Cuz many are related to each other in too many strange ways) for the reunion. This year marks the 113th year (now 114th!) for this event.  I’m sure way back 100 years ago it was a place of memory and celebration of the lives of those who served for the Confederacy in the Civil War, but now it’s just and excuse to get together, do things that are regarded and graded by bubba’s red-neck scale of approval.  OH, and drink… BEER!

Camp Ben is what I usually describe to people as a week long drunk fest. Although, as we have aged it’s quickly becoming a week long challenge to see how we can bring our living rooms and kitchens to the great outdoors.  Instead of waking up to breakfast of beer and shots of what ever hairy dog we drank the night before it’s now grilling up sausage and bacon for a great big “cowboy” breakfast. (See further down about torturing teenagers) And then right after that we start in on bar-b-q’ing dinner.  Lunch is still usually beer.  Sorry, can’t drift too far from tradition.  Nope, now we are saving the hard core partying to the younger generation out there, just like we were once.  But that doesn’t mean it’s not fun anymore.  Now we get to do all the things that we wished we could do when we were younger, just with more respect. We don’t have to tell anyone where we are going and with who. We don’t have to beg anyone for money to spend at the carnival. And, here’s the whopper, now we can walk right up to a sheriffs deputy and give him a nice big drunk kiss and tell him you love him WITHOUT him making you dump out your beer.  Love that one!

Back then, being a hell raising teenager, did have it’s advantages, however. When you were crazy drunk enough to go cop kissing you usually weren’t arrested but were taken back to camp. But wait! I’m sure all you parents out there are thinking the kid would get it then. But nope, punishment wasn’t handed down like that since usually the camp you told the cop you “belonged” to wasn’t yours but a friend of your parents. Who would in turn lie through their teeth for you and tell the cop that “Yep, she belongs to me.  Get over here you pain in the ass. Your momma’s gonna skin you alive when she gets back…” (Love you Morris!) Then they just make you wash their truck or pick up trash the next day or something equaling embarrassing for pay back for” lyin’ to the law”.

Yep, those were the days. Day’s I know that my daughter will enjoy too. As a parent I’m not really as open minded to the drinking and carrying on thing as you may be thinking right now but out there, at Camp Ben, it’s still a different way of life.  Slower, safer. Where real lessons are learned from those night binges as your “parents” (or who ever took care of you the night before) cooks up those huge “cowboy” breakfasts and you have to sit and gobble up every bite on your plate which is complete torture to the hungover teenager.  I think we would all starve out there if it wasn’t for having to cook for those rotten kids to teach them a lesson. Instead of grounding, taking away TV or driving privileges, punishments are handed down in much simpler, and in the eyes of the hungover teenager, harsher way as they puke their guts out behind the camper, praying that they aren’t standing on a thistle bush or in poison ivy.

By now you are wondering why I’m telling you all this. Well, because I’m a Camp Ben’er.  and today marks the Monday before we go to camp on Friday. Today is the day where I pull my pop up camper into my nice suburban drive way and start re-adjusting my red-neck hat on my head. Cuz by Friday I want it to fit and stay put for the full week I’m “roughing it”.  If you feel like dropping by for a beer and a story then come on over and “set a spell”. Just don’t get drunk and pass out in my camp. You might end up up duct taped to the flag poll.”

Post to Twitter

Weekend Giggles #32

Speed Bump

click any of the images to enlarge
Speed Bump
Now THATS what I’m talking about!!!

Daddy’s Home

click any of the images to enlarge
Daddy's Home
I love my phone. 🙂 It makes me happy.

Speed Bump

click any of the images to enlarge
Speed Bump
Need I elaborate on this one? Really? I love my Crocks, they’re cozy, but they are just about the fugliest shoes on earth. Who ever created Crocks was smoking too much…… And speaking of…..

B.C.

click any of the images to enlarge
B.C.
Ahh. The More We Know… Ding. Dong. Ding! (Bad impression of the after school PBS message)

Dog eat Doug

click any of the images to enlarge
Dog eat Doug
This may explain the basic urge all humanoids have to bite the heads off Peeps. It’s a quick painless death for a marshmallow.

HaPPy WEEkEnd EverYoNe!

*Thanks to Comics.com for making all these great comic strips available to the public for the world to love!

Shameless Plug:

CHOCOLATE GIVEAWAY!

Only 4 more days to enter!!!!!!!!!!!

Last day is June 15th!!

Enter NOW for a chance to win a Chocbite Gourmet Chocolate Bar. There will be 4 winners and there a tons of ways to enter and win! So go HERE and check it out!

Post to Twitter

Redneck With A Side Of Yuppy Please

Every once in a while, if you’ve been reading my blog long enough, you will have seen me refer to myself as a redneck.  Or to my daughter as a the redneck baby.  Well,  I thought I’d clarify that a little bit.  We aren’t the type of rednecks you see on TV on CMT’s “My Big Redneck Wedding,” i.e.. “toothless wonders,” but I can certainly appreciate many of the ideas that go into their sometimes elaborate themes.  Mud and very large trucks and finding multiple ways to incorporate both into the usual boring wedding routine being the number one thing I admire.  Who wouldn’t want to jump on an old bed mattress and be hauled around by a big fat truck by a rusty chain through a mud bog in your finest weddin’ gear?  Sadly enough… I vote for the mud!  Every time I see this show I think back to my first wedding. (Not to my current husband…we went to Vegas baby!) We had the whole fu fu wedding thing and sometimes I ponder “if there had been more mud involved in that whole fiasco would we have stayed married longer then a year”.   Then I look at my current husband (I love to say it that way… better stay on your toes hubby! I love you but I also love mud!) And think there was no way I could have stayed married to someone who agreed with his mommy that I should have a floor length bouquet of flowers that did nothing but make me sneeze. All right, my ex wasn’t that bad.  He just wasn’t right for me.

I’m the kind of girl who needs a little mud in her life.  That’s why I love “my current husband” so much.  He brings me mud with a side of bagels.  Rough around the collar with a hint of yuppy.   He doesn’t care if once a year I decide that the coolest thing on earth would be to jump on the hood of a truck and go whooping and a hollerin’ all the way to the creek.  Not really worrying about my safety. Only praying I don’t spill my beer or that the driver of the truck doesn’t decide to “see” a ‘coon and do a break stand…thus forcing me to spill my beer.  He doesn’t mind if once a year I decide that sticking a Budweiser bottle sticker to my daughters sippy is the coolest idea on earth.  And once a year he doesn’t mind all the other elaborate things I do to make myself and our family just a little bit more “dirt in the skirt”.  Basically, we are weekend rednecks. I guess that would be the better way to put it.  And coming up, one week from now, is the time that all of us weekend rednecks, and many who think baths should only be taken on Sunday before church (unless jumping in the creek counts), come out of the woodworks.   In one week we will be heading to Camp Ben.  We will be gathering with our American and confederate flag swimwear, our koozies that proudly state things like “Your village called. Their idiot is missing.”  And we will prepare to spend the week rehashing old stories about years of camping gone past.  Stories about losing our dignity along with our shirts, shorts, and many cherries is just one of the things we celebrate each year.

We are Camp Ben’ers!  Where we bring everything we need to survive in the Texas heat for a week and cap it off with ways to keep our beer cold and our briskets colder till its time to cook em’.  In our case we even have carpet for our camp site. But that’s only because after a hard night playing dominos, and drinking something “homemade” out of our buddies unmarked very old and odd looking bottle that probably should be illegal, its nice to waddle out of your tents or campers onto indoor outdoor carpet having the opportunity to avoid stubbing our unpolished toes on the rocks.  Camp Ben is where, instead of bringing a touch of redneck into our yuppy lifestyles, we bring a touch of class to the average redneck by having a refrigerator standing proudly in the middle of camp ready to keep our beer cold.

We are Camp Ben’ers!  And we are about to converge!  Bring on the bubba!!!!

That is all.

Shameless Plug:

CHOCOLATE GIVEAWAY!

Only 5 more days to enter!!!!!!!!!!!

Enter my giveaway for a chance to win a Chocbite Gourmet Chocolate Bar. There will be 4 winners and there a tons of ways to enter and win! So go HERE NOW and check it out!

Post to Twitter