Poverty Is The New Black

Have you heard the news?!

VOGUE HAS OFFICIALLY DECLARED POVERTY AS THE NEW BLACK!  Generally the chic saunter up and down the runway wearing upscale black regalia.  NOW the Hip and In will celebrate cheap weaves and pleather! Supermodels will EAT from the McDonald's Dollar Menu and do their own make-up. IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, FOLKS! 

It is not COOL to have MONEY anymore!

I'm really grateful to have discovered/invented this gem of knowledge.  All I care about in life is BEING COOL! 

I want to be chic and sexy and economical!

Two years ago I regularly had Tara glue the hair of unfortunate asian women on my head.  I paid $700 every two months for this service.

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "Crystal Pistol is dumber than a box o rocks!"  What you SHOULD be thinking is, "Crystal Pistol is COOLER than a box o rocks!"

EXTENSIONS AND FRIVOLITY WERE CHIC THEN! I was a cool kid THEN, and I'm a cool kid NOW. 

I have adapted to my environment.  Ever heard of Darwin?  Evolution?  Survival of the Fittest?   Well, my friends,  THAT is what I'm doing.  I'm evolving into a somewhat less ridiculous human being.  SOMEWHAT.


In addition to extensions I never did my own pedicures, manicures, facials or toilet cleanings.  I hired brown people of all walks of life to these things FOR me.  I WAS THE HIPPEST CAT IN TOWN, FO SHO.  MEOW, BABY.

NOW, however, I have come to understand money is frowned upon! Food stamps are IN! BOTOX IS OUT!  DIY IS IN!  PERSONAL SLAVES ARE OUT! 

I am making the appropriate adjustments.

Last night I went to Tara's house (check out her sweet tat) to get my hair did.  I am so freakin cool, I haven't had the funds to get a cut in over 6 months!  Jealous?  Huh?  You jell-o?

I paid Tara $50 for a cut.  Then I painted my very own toenails and fingers...  Knuckle to nail... (I think coloring outside the lines is far more creative.  Also, I have a hard time sitting still that long.)  I also did Tara's nails.

Then she said,

"Let's go to Circle K and get free ice.  My ice machine is broken."

So I responded with,

"Hey!  MY ice machine is broken too!  We NEVER have ice!"

Then we talked about all the things in our houses and lives that are broken.  We verily BRAGGED about the broken and the broke.

It was great fun.  AND COOL!

Tara and I USED to discuss high fashion and expensive hair and facial products.  NOW we talk about things of substance, like spiritual enlightenment and our horoscopes.

The leggings I am wearing in the above pics were $10 at Target.  The top was another $8.  The boots I purchased last October in Times Square in New York and were very pricey, but I'm going to lie to you...  Ahem... I found the boots in a dumpster.

I seriously can't abide how COOL I am.  Hop on my bandwagon.  Let's CELEBRATE!  Mormons can drink a soothing glass of milk.  The rest of you hook up with a box of wine.

Let's have a toast, shall we?

To the new black! 

CHEERS!

Poor Little Rich Girl: Birthday Par-tay

Guess what everybody?!!  I'm LOW MAINTENANCE NOW!

It's VERY exciting!

Last year on July 21st I awoke to a forrest of Red Roses and Gucci.  My husband pulled out all the stops!  There was nothing I could not have. 

I was filled with to the brim with gratitude and an over-developed sense of enititlement.  GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!

My husband took me to fancy schmancy dinner and lavished me with yet MORE EXPENSIVE GIFTS.

Somehow I convinced myself I DESERVED these things. HAA!

THIS YEAR, however, I have matured.  I may wear donkey heads and silver leggings and climb trees and were tiaras to the grocery store BUT I have RE-learned the value of a dollar!

Some people say,  MONEY IS NO OBJECT.

Um... excuse me?   ...BULLSH*T!

Money is GREEN with MEN's FACES staring somberly from the comfort of monetary security. 

Can money buy happiness???  YES.  (Just kidding... sorta...)

What's your stance on money?

I like it.  I like it A LOT.  I want to marry it and have lots of money babies.

So THIS year on July 21st I suggested we drive up the mountain and roast WEINERS.  Cause I like roasting WEINERS. 

We made S'mores and Sydi spanked my bottom and that made me laugh and GUESS WHAT?!  It didn't cost A PENNY!  Birthday spankings from a Best Friend are FREEEE.

Then we pretended we were surprised about something.  And my husband said, "You guys look retarded when you pose."  And we said, "YEAH! 'CAUSE WE'RE POSERS, YO!"

We played Tug o' War with our dogs.  (The little one is mine. And by default, the big one belongs to Syd.)

I didn't hire a sullen teenager to watch my kids whilst I air kissed them goodbye in Chanel and 4 inch shoes.  NO SIR!  Instead I watched my son pee on every tree in the vicinity and let my puppy, Roxy put her muddy paws all over my shirt.

While we roasted phallic meat symbols on sticks my children said, "MAMA, we love you soooo much because you act like a THREE year old all the time!  This is THE BEST Birthday of yours we have ever had!"

Awwww.  See there?  Heart warming, isn't it.  And Guess WHAT?   .... FREE OF CHARGE.

So... You understand what I'm sayin' here right???

Good.  'Cause I have no idea.  And that's why my eyes are closed in this pic... I'm closing my eyes to reality... and also to the super bright flash of my crappy camera.

Pissed Off Mama Mountain Lion

I'm PISSED!  SEETHING!

Usually I force myself to find The Funny in rude or hurtful comments from readers.  Let it roll off my back, ya know?

Sarah Palin likes to refer to powerful women leaders as "Mama Grizzlies".  I prefer Mountian Lions.

People that leave hateful anonymous comments are clearly in need of attention.  Maybe their mommies didn't nurse them when they were babies...  Sad...  Not enough time at their momma's teat...  WAH! WAH! WAH!

Others have life/blog rage and want someone else to absorb the shock induced from their lack of emotional control.

"IN ORDER FOR THEM TO SPEND YOUR TAX MONEY, YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY WORK AND PAY TAXES..."

That's the comment from yesterday's post that has my blood boiling.

I am a highly intelligent, attractive and educated woman.  I speak two languages.  I am capable of selling ice to Esquimos.  I have checked my facts.  I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

Given those qualifications WHY would I not be an active contributor to the Gross National Product?

Sacrifice.

I sacrifice the accolades of man.  I sacrifice the fat pay check I KNOW I'm capable of earning.  I sacrifice.

I sacrifice for my 4 babies.  I sacrifice MY DESIRES for success and recognition so I can be a mother to my children.

When my children get sick in the middle of a school day they know Mama will rescue them in 5 minutes flat.  When Serena comes home in tears because the girls at school were mean she doesn't have to call my office or text me to tell me about her bad day.  She knows she comes FIRST.

I am front and center in their lives.

 I am the warmth of a fireplace in a family room on a frigid winter night.  My children gather around me regularly so that I might defrost the chill that comes of living in a cold, cruel world.  I defrost them with my words.  I defrost them with my kissess and hugs.  I defrost them with my humor and support.  But most importantly, I defrost them with my very PRESENCE.

They are my everything.

Our family enjoyed great prosperity due to the housing boom.  We became a statistic when the rug was pulled from under us.

One option to maintain a similar standard of living was for me to work, as well as my husband.

I refuse.

I have done my best to stretch every dollar so I am available to the people who matter most to me in life.

Tragedy to me would be having to work a jealous job and have my little ones be raised by daycare workers making minimum wage and checking the clock every five minutes in the hopes of quittin' time. 

I realize some mothers have no choice.  Some mothers would give anything to be home with their lil ones but MUST work.  I'm sorry for those women.

But there are those women who work long hours because they want to be able to keep up on their beauty treatments and summer cruises.  Their children suffer.  Their children miss their mommies.

I've heard women say, "I work outside the home because the whole-stay-at-home-mom thing is much HARDER."

I'm here to vouche that it is indeed harder.

The ignorant comment above insinuates I don't work.  I have no need to catalogue my chores and responsibilities for you, but let me assure I WORK MY ASS OFF DAILY.

My B.S. is in International Marketing from the very prestigious Marriot School of Management at Brigham Young University.

Don't for one minute think what I have opted to do with my life is easy.

I would LOVE to travel the world and use my many skills and talents to bring home some substantial green.

I would LOVE to maintain the standard of living that became so comfortable to my family and now eludes us.

I would LOVE to leave a flaming bag of dog shit on the doorstep of the Mr. Anonymous.

I realize the life I have chosen is very  Where's-The-Beave-June-Cleaver.

Having to depend on a man to bring home every penny is beyond humbling when I know of which I am capable.

My children know that I would die for them.

But more importantly, I LIVE for them.  I FIGHT for them.

Sacrifice.

Anyone who would disparage a mother of four for choosing her babies over money is a heartless IDIOT.  IDIOTA!

(Speaking two languages comes in handy often...)

GRRRRRRR!

AZ VS FEDS: 2 Wrongs Don't Make Right

Before this horrid recession and market crash I was a rich lil housewife.

I had me a nanny and house keepers so as not to ruin my manicure or wrinkle my silk Audrey Hepburn style dresses or $75 Tee-shirts.

One day my super sweet nanny, Angelica, took my kids to the park. It was a 5 minute walk from the house.

At the park there was a pervert that kept leering at Angelica and my children. 20 year old Angelica had a cell phone. But she was afraid to call the police.

Angelica was an illegal alien. She was terrified the police would send her back to Mexico. She needed her job. She gave the vast majority of her income to her parents for rent and food.

When she finally made it home that day she shook like a leaf and cried for hours.

FLIP SIDE:

My mother was born in Mexico and had to go through hell and high water to cut through all the red tape necessary to live in The United States LEGALLY with her family.

My mother became a legal citizen of this country and even served in the US military for 7 years.

It pisses her off when Mexicans come to this country expecting a handout while Americans work their colas off to pay insanely high taxes courtesy of the Obama Administration.


MY PEA BRAINED OPINION:

I’m just a lil ol’ housewife with a small brain. I‘m just not sure WHAT is going on! (I HATE the term HOUSEWIFE. It implies I belong to a house and a husband. There is no individual worth to be found in the word. Ick.) Like I said, I’m a housewife with very few opinions about serious things.

OOOOO I bought this dress at Buffalo Exchange for only $13! Can you BELIEVE it? I can hardly sit still I’m so excited!

My pea brain barely realizes the implications of illegals in the US. I see high, drug related crime at the borders of my home state of Arizona. Schools are over-crowded and my little white kids are getting sub par educations because our state spends a great deal of money on English as a second language classes and programs.

But my silly goose head also is attached to my bleeding heart and knows there are children here in The States benefiting from an education and health care they would not have in their wildest dreams in Mexico.

Does it seem mean spirited to anyone but me that a little one would be ripped from his life and friends because his parents misrepresented themselves?

Cops are going to be trained for TWO HOURS regarding the questioning of suspicious brown people. TWO HOURS?! My nightly BUBBLE BATH lasts longer than two hours! I don’t like it. I HATE that part! (Not the bath, of course, I meant the questioning of brown peeps after a two hour training..)

The thought of some PRICK cop questioning Angelica harshly as her eyes fill with tears makes me want to kick his chins with my boots. I know Mr. Police Man is only doing his job. I support the men who protect our society!

But cops are normal people with good intentions and superiority complexes. Remember Rodney King? Need I say more? Anything can happen and MAY.

Whatever. I just broke a NAIL! Ugh! How much does THAT suck!

So now the Feds are SUEING AZ because of our immigration laws.

AZ state representative, John Kavanagh, calls it political gamesmanship. Maybe so.

Obama calls the laws “misguided”. Mr. President, you are right. The laws ARE misguided. Your slow efforts to rectify the massive oil spill is also misguided. You DO realize as you spend precious time securing law suits against BP our planet is being ravaged daily? We are ALL misguided.

Mark my words folks. Something awful will come of this. There will be racial profiling and the world will be watching. I hope I get to be on TV too. I’ll be like, “I TOLD YA SO!!! HI MOM!”

As a citizen of Arizona, the United States and THE WORLD I see both sides.  Both sides are WRONG.

I’d like to require each person crossing into our country to PINKY SWEAR with me that they are indeed good folks who will not bring more drugs and crime into our country. And if they do bring drugs will they please bring me some Mexican Ambien because my prescription is expensive and I’ve been out for a while and I could use a good night’s sleep.

I’d say, “Pretty please with sugar on top, don’t be a liar and a cheater and a thief and a free loader.”

To which they would respond by saying, “Ay mamacita! Que Buena estas!”

Good enough for me.

As in Eternity and Life this is an issue of Mercy VS Justice.

What do YOU think? Where do YOU stand? How would YOU do it differently?

I purposely have not made a stance here. I just wanna buy everyone a puppy. I see a lot of upset people. I see selfishness, pride, anger, hate, racism, lack of respect and a lack of responsibility. I puppy would take their minds off such things. Cleaning puppy poop is all-encompassing.

Let’s just take a deep breath and be nice to each other, shall we?

“People are people so why should it be that we should get along so awfully…?”

Better get back to broomin’ and scrubbin. Nothing in my noggin…

Meaningful T-shirt: $2.99

Meaningful T-shirt: $2.99

Turn my head THIS way.

Turn my head THAT way.

Cut the neck out so my gold "CRYSTAL" necklace would be visible.  Wanted to be clear on WHO EXACTLY is All-Righta Ore Ida.

It's ME.  In case there was any confusion.  You're All-Righta Ore Ida too even though you don't own this amazingly fab and meaningful T-shirt.

I think I'm gonna take scissors to the sleeves and make this a cap sleeve Tee.  ? Hmmm.  Decisions. Decisions...

What are YOUR thoughts on this very important decision?

SAVERS  is kinda smelly and stinky inside.  I sorta like it.  Gives me street cred, yo.  Fancy, schmancy, squirmy, wormy people can't hang at Savers. 

But I CAN!  Cuz I'm  All-RightA Ore Ida!

Did you know Kate Moss shops at thrift stores for vintage and unique stuff? s'True.

PS  I USED to spend $75 on Tee-shirts.  And they weren't even meaningful with a self-esteem boosting message!  Can you imagine?!

The Dollar Store

"Mom! I'm bored.  Will you take me to Target and buy me a toy?" said Tyson.

"Buddy, I don't have the funds to buy each of you a toy from Target today," I said.

I WANTED to though.  I wanted to BUY SOMETHING.

Mindless Consumerism is REALLY, REALLY super FUN!

I had an epiphany.

"Everybody come here," I yelled from my comfy bed.  They all came running and cuddled up with me.  "Today I will take you to THE DOLLAR STORE!!!!  I will buy you each ONE TOY.  ONE!!!!!"

In my mind I really had visions of each child euphorically clutching the thrifty toy of their choice and me only spending $4.00.

I'm a fool.

As soon as we entered the store it began.

"IT'S ONLY A DOLLAR, MAMA!  Can we have TWO toys each?!"

My son weighed his options carefully.  The process stressed him to no end.

"I just can't decide!"

Bella is my artist and beelined it to the coloring section.

Serena made her way to the hair and cosmetic isle. Upon discovering hair dye she suddenly decided she needed a more dramatic look.

She said, "I HATE MY HAIR!  I want it BLACK.  Like YOURS!"

"Absolutely NOT!" I replied.  That is the only issue I put my foot down on.

Maya convinced my she was in dire need of sparkly orange hair and costume jewelry.

I was elated by everything that was happening here.  I felt LIBERATED!  I could buy ANYTHING IN THE STORE!  ANYTHING!

I almost purchased several plastic pom-poms because I was never a cheerleader. When I was in high school I thought I was too cool to be bouncing around with bows in my hair and panties sewn into my tiny purple skirt and perhaps subconsciously I wish I could go back and join a pyramid of giggling girls and shout "GO SABERCATS!  GO!"

I also was tempted to purchase a couple batons filled with glitter because the baton twirlers were without a doubt the most NOT cool folks to walk the high school grounds and I wanted to tap into my inner social retard.

I ended up purchasing generic Lysol, generic toilet cleanser, generic glass cleaner and an AWESOME BANANA CLIP! I'm pretty excited to try it out.

The grand total for all this joy?

$25.09!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was PRACTICALLY FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

America is a pretty great country!  I mean, I still can't believe our luck on finding an inflatable monkey.  An INFLATABLE MONKEY FOR A BUCK????!!!!  I'm sorry for the people in sweatshops across the globe who make buying inflatable monkeys for a dollar possible, but my son is clearly pleased.

When we got in the car with our purchases I was feelin' pretty darn good.

Then Maya said, "Hey!  THIS IS JUST JUNK!!!  My jewelry BROKE!"

You win some you lose some.

I AM Disneyland!

“Get up, Mom.”

“No.”

“Get up and take us somewhere.”

“Uh uh.”

“We’re hungry.”

“You’ll live.” I put the pillow over my head and resumed sleeping.

I had a dream. I was a Ghetto Princess. Two street gangs fought over me. To the death. There were machine guns and lots of blood and dead gangsters wearing overalls and multi-colored bandanas around their heads. What could it mean?

My dream inspired my outfit today. Gap Over-Alls, enormous earrings and a an attitude.

My kids have officially been on summer vacation for 6 wonderful days now.

(I’m sorry but I must interrupt this post to tell you all that there is a woman here at this park wearing a HALF-SHIRT and her BELLY is literally HANGING over her cut-off Daisy Dukes. WWHHHHYYYYYYYY????????!!! I‘m really upset now.)

Where was I?

Oh yes.

Summer vacation as a Stay-At-Home-Mom ( I detest that term) is FUN! WEEEEEEE!

It’s ESPECIALLY fun when we are in a recession. I can get creative. There is none of this BORING, Hey I have lots of money to blow: LET’S GO TO DISNEYLAND!! Nope. I don’t even WANT to go to Disneyland. BABY, I AAAMMMM DISNEYLAND!!

My kids don’t need Disneyland when they have MEEEE! I’m their complete Disney package for FREE! They don’t need roller coasters! Instead I take them to the public park and give them SUPER-DEE-DUPER HYPER-STRENGTH UNDERDOGS on the swings. THEN I sing “BIPPITY-BOPPITY-BOO!” in the stupidest voice I can conjure. Then I do an equally stupid dance to support the stupid singing. AND IT’S ALLL FRREEEEE! Free of charge!

I have been taking my spoiled children to all the public hot spots that are FREE (to the public, which is an elite group I am a member of…).

Where was I? Ah yes…

I take my children to THE PUBLIC POOL!!! And the PUBLIC LIBRARY!! And the PUBLIC PARK!!! And today we went to THE DOLLAR MOVIE!!!

When I was a kid I went to the public pool everyday. The water tasted salty. It was not a salt water pool. I’m not sure what that could mean.

But LOOK AT ME NOW! LOOK HOW WELL I TURNED OUT! I’m sure I have a much stronger immune system than the Spoiled Rotten Rich Kids who grew up with PRIVATE pools that only THEY peed in. I want the same humble upbringing for my own offspring.

I’m serious here. I want my kids to be survivors! Rich kids are WEAK, YO! I mean, can LOADS and LOADS of money REALLY make you happy? The answer is YES.

The entire world is in a recession and I think it’s GOOD! Everyone I know is tightening their belt. Everyone I know is trading sushi dinners for bologna and cheese sandwiches. There is no shame in that!

I think God is trying to humble and strengthen all of us. Less money means we focus less on Gucci and more on the Woah-Man Within, ya dig?

So, do you want to be WEAK and PATHETIC and pay full price for a movie like a sucker? Or do you want to be savvy and sassy and expose yourself and your little ones to women with enormous beer bellies in half-shirts and Daisy Dukes?

Exactly.

PS  In the picture below I am talking to my brother.  Hi Joe.  Usually I'm just a poser but this time someone actually wanted to talk to me.  Thanks Joe.

Poor Little Rich Girl (Frozen Banana)

MY KIDS ARE SPOILED ROTTON AND IT’S ALL MY FAULT!

So I took my kids to the Pima County Fair this weekend. My friend invited me.

I said, “I ain’t got no dough, girl!”

She’s not used to me saying I don’t have cash. In the past I’ve thrown it around like it was no big thang.

I’d be like, “Don’t even THINK about paying! I’ve got this!”

My sister recently told her co-workers I was, “Stupid generous…”. “It’s really kind of ridiculous,“ she bragged. “Crys will give you the shirt off her back!” Thanks sis. Best compliment in a while…

But the days of Stupid Generous are over and done. Now I got no dough.

My friend suggested we do all the FREE STUFF at The Fair. The plan was to take the kiddies to see the livestock and petting zoo. Then maybe we could spring for a snack of some kind.

On the way to the fair I spoke to my offspring, “I do not have money for rides. I do not have money for inflatable-Sponge-Bob-on-a-stick. I do not have money for new T-shirts. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?”

They nodded.

I continued. “I do not have money for PONY rides. I do not have money for wooden plaques that say your name. I will be buying you NOTHING! DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?”

They nodded again.

“We will be observing COWS and SHEEP and CHICKENS. Then I will buy you a snack. This is the plan. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?”

They said they did. THEY LIED.

Once at the Fair I was charged a FARE. I thought, “NO FAIR!” But NO FARE, NO FAIR. Get it? Mmmmk. I paid.

Then I paid DEARLY within 3 minutes. THREE MINUTES!

“Mama! That little girl has a plastic guitar filled with soda! Can I have one?! PLEEEEAAASSSE? It’s only SEVEN DOLLARS!”

“I WANNA BUNGEE JUMP!” (Ok so that one was me….)

“Ooooooh Mama! Can I go on that roller coaster?! It’s only BLAH BLAH DOLLARS!”

“Mom! I WANT THAT NECKLACE! PLEEAAASSSEEE!”

And because I do not believe in physically harming my children, I had an overwhelming desire to punch a random stranger.

There were a lot of random strangers and they all had the stuff my kids wanted.

“That kid has a plastic dolphin on a stick! I want one!!!!”

“How come that little girl gets to ride an elephant? NO FAIR! IT’S ONLY 10 DOLLARS FOR FIVE MINUTES!”

I’m really good at math. I said, “That’s TWO DOLLARS A MINUTE! It’s almost like they’re STEALING!”

I tried to be humorous.

“I’ll let you ride on MY back for FREEEE!” I said.

They ignored me.

“I WANNA RIDE AN ELEPHANT!”

I lost my mind a bit. I suddenly became that trashy WAL-MART MOM I HATE! You know who I’m talking about! The one that stops the flow of traffic to maniacally shout, “I AIN’T GOT NO MONEY FOR NO ELEPHANT RIDES. SO QUIT ASKIN’, JUNIOR!”

My kids did finally resign themselves to petting cows. They even made great sport of pissing off the llamas.

“HAHAHA! I made it SPIT at you! If you poke it‘s butt it‘ll spit. Watch this!”

“Move over so I can poke it‘s butt!”

All the butt poking angered the caged llamas. They went all nuts and starting kicking the enclosure. My kids and their friend laughed with wild abandon.

“Alright, girls. Enough. Let’s go get snacks,” I said.

SNACKS AT THE FAIR ARE EXPENSIVE!

I bought Maya a FOUR DOLLAR CORN DOG which she proceeded to drop on the floor.

“NOOOOOO!” I said aloud as I stared at the fallen dog. “That was FOUR DOLLARS!”

I bought her another one.

By this time I was SUPER PISSED.

As my children enjoyed their insanely over-priced snacks I glared at the people around me.

I watched a group of ladies in tiny tank tops buy enormous frozen bananas. They giggled and took lewd pictures and thought themselves clever.

“MORONS!” I said to my friend. “Why does EVERY family event insist upon featuring FROZEN BANANAS?! HUH? WHAT PERVERT IS RESPONSIBLE?!”

Normally I’M one of the moronic perverts taking pictures with a frozen banana. (It’s quite clever when done correctly…?). It’s just not funny when the girls in the ill-fitting tank tops can afford the bananas and I can’t. Ya know?

Then my friend had a brilliant thought, “Maybe the question you should be asking is WHY DO BANANAS EXIST AT ALL?!”

I thought about it. “God has a sense of humor.”

Well folks, the joke is one ME! I love this whole Poor little RICH GIRL thing I’ve got going here. It’ll give me experience, right? And if I endure it well maybe I’ll sell a book and be rich again… Maybe!

I have done myself and my children a disservice by spoiling them rotton during times of plenty. Last year we would have returned home with various inflatable toys on sticks, monterous headaches due to rickety roller coasters and I would have proudly sported an enormous frozen banana. WHAT? Are you gonna JUDGE me? It’s just a FRUIT that happens to be a great source of potassium, for heaven’s sake! Get your head outta the gutter! SHEESH!

This year things are different. God smiles down on me as I count my tiny dollars. He is teaching me humility. He is teaching me to teach my children humility. It SUCKS!

I’d much rather ride the elephant with a frozen banana in my hand.

I’m just sayin’…