True Grit

Every five or six years, my mother guilts me into joining the extended family for a week-long vacation. 

(NOTE:  guilt is a horrible thing–  made even more horrible-er-er when mixed with a pinch of stinginess, a strong dose of negativity, and one f*cking giant wallop of general mean-spiritedness)

BTW, just in case any of you are dying to know, my daughter is rude– and getting fat– and i’m “really starting to show my age” and should make an appointment with a dermatologist PRONTO.

(i feel pretty, oh so pretty… )

And,  if any of you are thinking, ‘oh c’mon… it couldn’t have been all THAT bad,”  I give you TRUE GRIT:  an original breakfast story– 

On our very last day together at the beach house, my mother got up early to make a huge pot of homestyle grits.  Not only did she use the very last of my half-n-half (BITCH!) in her grits, but when she finished cooking, she proceeded to have the following conversation with my father and sister (while I’m sitting just two feet away on a kitchen stool– very much awake, and very much present in the room, after having said my round of good mornings):

MOM:  “Daughter #1, would you like some grits?”

Daughter #1 [MY SISTER]:  “Of course, I’ll get them…”  [MOVING TO GET GRITS HERSELF]

MOM to Daughter #1:  “Don’t move!… I have everything right here.”  [proceeds to dish out and take piping hot bowl of grits to D #1]

MOM to my DAD:  “May I bring you some?”

DAD [shaking his head at such a ridiculous question]:  “Well, yeah!”   [mom takes bowl to my dad]

IGNORES ME.  PROCEEDS TO MAKE BOWL FOR HERSELF.  SITS DOWN AT TABLE.

DAD [feeling bad that I'd been SO totally ignored]:  “Contessa, didn’t you want some grits?”

Contessa:  “Yes, I can get them for myself, thank you dad.”  [proceeds to get grits for self]

And that pretty much sums up my week of vacation.  Now, please excuse me while i go phone my doctor– the psychologist (NOT to be confused with the dermatologist).

One bites a trophy; one bites the dust.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2008 French Open tennis winner, Spain’s Rafael Nadal, bites his trophy as he poses for the press.  Nadal defeated Switzerland’s Roger Federer during the men’s final match of the French Open tennis tournament on Sunday June 8. 

In other Sports News…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Brown bites the dust– with a stunning last-place finish in the 2008 Belmont Stakes.  Spectators were left wondering wtf (??!).

Big Brown became the first horse seeking the Triple Crown to finish last in 140 years of running the 1.5 mile Belmont.

 

Exposed

Emily Gould  is a prime example that some things are better left unblogged.

Go Away

I just don’t feel like talking about it.

10 things I’d hate to go through life without…

1. peanut butter
2. chocolate
3. coffee
4. vodka
5. tequila
6. Wet platinum body glide
7. cock
8. lipgloss
9. sunblock SPF 30
10. feather pillows

Go Away Perverts…

you will find no “nun sex” at this site.  Nuns?… yes.  Talk about sex?… maybe.  But nuns actually having sex?… NEVER.

(dude, that’s just sick-o)

Grounded

Thank goodness, I feel like myself today.

I seem to have gone through some sort of anxiety crisis last week– so unusual for me (as I’m generally grounded… some would say flat even).

The Ad Said…

“There’s no substitute for good protection.”

Now, my back was to the TV– and it’s football Sunday– so I’m thinkin’ condom commercial… ?

Curiosity gets the best of me as I glance up from loading the dishwasher…

Nope, not even close– it was an insurance commercial.

(although, I’m still thinking I could possibly pitch it to Trojan…)

Wee, wee, wee, wee all the way home!

That damn little piggy needs to quit going to market…

Monday’s Nun