White Horse

I've always loved country music, well sort of. The earliest I can remember any type of country music was watching Hee Haw as a family. I really hated that show. I preferred to watch Laugh In with Goldie Hawn , then to watch a bunch of old farts dressed in overalls , and Minnie Pearl with a tag hanging from her hat, hiding behind bales of hay. Thats a big No THANKS! It never made any sense to me and wasn't funny, rather lame. Laugh In really didn't make any sense either, but I liked Goldie's silliness and her SUPER COOL bell bottoms.

I first started to like country music when The Donny and Marie Show came on. I would sing along to Paper Roses as if I was the one on stage with Donny. I never really had a crush on Donny, and Marie wasn't my favorite but I wanted to be her singing on stage with Mr. Purple socks Donny.

Then along came Barbara Mandrell, Kenny Rogers, Crystal Gail and oh yea, Tanya Tucker to name a few. I never really liked the older twangy singers, or The Oakridge Boys ( Elvira, gitty up blah, blah, blah) and I definitely didn't like ( I'm a pickin, and I'm a grinnin) lame singers that performed on Hee Haw! I hate that show! When that show was on , I'm sure as a young child I begged to go to bed early!

Then Country music started figuring out the good stuff. I remember singing to Barbara Mandrell . I had her 8 track tape and I would crank it as loud as I could in my blue Volkeswagon Bug, with the windows rolled down. I didn't have an air conditioner! Country music was meant to be belted out and with passion. That damn song made me cry every time I heard it. Who knows why, teenage hormones I reckon. The song was , If loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right. In 79 I was dating a really good guy so the lyrics didn't fit one bit , but I still cried, and cried, and sang it with passion. Maybe I was crying because I didn't have a bad boy boyfriend and deep inside I really wanted one. Who knows, anyways.....

Then came along the movie with Sissy Spacek in it. Coal Miners Daughter ( I was hooked). I loved that character and wanted to live her life, but to confuse matters more, Grease came out the same year and I wanted to be Sandy! My boyfriend didn't appreciate that Sandy changed for the worse to be like Danny. I guess the naughty girl in me kind of liked that she had. We didn't see eye to eye on that show. Bottom line my goal in life was to tour the country in butt tight black pants and red high heels singing country songs, swaying my pelvis back and forth, playing the guitar while I made out with John Travolta! It never happened.

I heard that if you're happy you hear the country song , but if you're sad you feel the lyrics.

Country music has to be the most romantic music in the world. But the devil has to be involved somehow. It forces you into believing that a man is just waiting to grab you up, throw you on the back of his horse and ride off into the sunset and you will be happy forever never once falling off the back. ( That's devil evidence # 1...). It doesn't happen happen that way.

It tempts you to walk down the street with a can of kerosene because somebody pissed you off ! You can't be doing that. (Devil evidence #2) .

It encourages you to argue, walk out slamming your cute little porch screen door on your farm house , walk down the dirt path in your Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots while your handsome, strong, hard working lover with his cowboy shirt unsnapped half way runs after you, begging you to stay, aggressively carries you home where you have passionate , hot unbridled cowboy/cowgirl sex and are happy forever. ( Devil Evidence #3) No Way, No How, Not going to happen!

Country music plays emotional games in your head. I bet 90 % of embarrased, foolish people are that way because they listened to a country song that sent little voices in their brains that told them to suddenly kiss someone, punch someone, ride a mechanical bull or wear Daisy Dukes when clearly you shouldn't. (Devil Evidence # 4)

You never see fans of Rap bawling their eyes out or saying " this is our song" just to break up 10 minutes later. Maybe it's because you're trying so hard to figure out what the crap it's saying and cringing each time they drop the F. Bomb.

Me, I need to stay away from the country songs. It either makes me want to kiss on someone that I don't even know or kick someone with my spurs. It makes me want to own a horse (oh yea, I had a horse once , it died quickly) Poor Fireball, I never even got to ride you.

Urban Cowboy is one of my favorite movies, along with Hope Floats , Coal Miners Daughter , Grease, An Officer and A Gentleman and of course The Notebook! I kind of see a pattern here. Did I mention that I hated Hee Haw? Urban Cowboy is another one of those movies that could FORCE you into doing bad things!

So, the bottom line is this, I basically have two choices of music that I can listen to while trying to get to sleep. Listening to Taylor Swift sing "That I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairytale, blah, blah, blah something about a white horse" Yada, Yada, Yada

Or,

I could get to sleep listening to Tupac singing ....

Give the crack to the kids who the hell cares? One less hungry mouth on the welfare.

First ship 'em dope & let 'em deal to brothers.
Give 'em guns, step back, and watch 'em kill each other.
"It's time to fight back", that's what Huey said.
2 shots in the dark now Huey's dead.
I got love for my brother, but we can never go nowhere

Hmmmm, I think I'm sticking to Country , tears and all! Good Night ;)

Pickles, I love Pickles!

If I was ever on a deserted island , the only thing that I would need to survive are pickles! Well, maybe crab also, I love crab even more than I do pickles. They both make my face swell up like a marshmallow and that can be embarrassing but it won't matter because I will be alone on my island! I could eat pickles anytime anywhere. You never can be too full for a pickle. It's like ice cream, you can be stuffed to where you want to barf but there's always room for ice cream.

Not all pickles are good! Sweet pickles are yuck, soft squishy pickles are double yuck and homemade pickles are well, just homemade! No one makes a pickle like Vlassic and Claussen are the best dill pickles in the world. They have to have just the right crunch and those companies know their stuff!

I would rather have a pickle at the theater than even popcorn and popcorn is my 2nd favorite thing. There is nothing more mouth watering than to see that huge glass jar full of pickles sitting on the concession counter. Your mouth has a way of twitching just from looking at them. Then the saliva begins to flow and you can hardly control it. You have to be prepared to open your mouth when they ask you what you would like. Always prepare ahead of time. You have to begin swallowing way before you get to the front of the line so you don't gleek on the concession people. Then they do that " she wants a what?" dance, like they suddenly no longer know whatbthey are doing. They can fill drinks, nachos, popcorn and get candy without thinking about it, but when you ask for a pickle they have to regroup. I like when, they ask you which one you want. I like those people! I try to pretend and say " any of them are fine" but I'm already pointing to the one I really want and hoping they notice. I try to be sly when I'm eyeing the pickles from 5 people back because it wouldn't look cool to be a pickle geek! Cool is still better than pickles! It's always a bummer when they just reach in and grab the smallest one. What's even worse is picking out the most gigantic, out of the world pickle you can find and then when they pull it out it's just this little dinky thing! I sit there wondering where my mother sized pickle went!

When we were little kids my mom came home one time with a huge , and I do mean huge bucket of pickles. It was in a white bucket like a home depot bucket and was chuck full of pickles! One day me and my younger brothers went downstairs and tried to get into the pickles. We had to use a screwdriver to get the bucket lid off. Never in my whole entire life have I seen a prettier sight than when we pryed back that lid and saw all those pickles swimming in that yummy juice just calling out our names! We dug into those and between the three of us we ate almost every single pickle! There had to be at least 50 pickles in that bucket! Now I wonder where our mother was while we were doing this. She was probably watching Merv Griffen or The Dinah Shore show and was glad we weren't interrupting her. Needless to say we got very sick and were on the toilet for days. Thank heavens that we had three toilets. It amazes me that I love pickles still after that day.

I do so much still them , that I think I will go get me a pickle and maybe drink the pickle juice. That's the very best part! Tomorrow my face will be all puffed up but for now it's worth it.

What do you want to hear about?

You Wingnuts are the ones that asked me to keep telling stories so which ones do you want to hear? You know most of them but I will give you a few other choices.

Honeymoon disaster and The Gordon Elliot Show.

Breast exam by the janitor when it was only my throat that hurt.

Asking Johnny Carson if he preferred boxers or briefs?

Reasons that you don't hide in the back of a van, no matter the cause.

Mommy meltdowns, involving orange juice or sleeping bags!

Ambien, Horton hears a who, Clayson and his steak dinner all in one!

Why I love to have my hair pulled even if it's by a drunk chick!

Why you never trust your husband to bring you a cold glass of milk!

I'm sure there are hundreds more that you remember and I don't.

Oh, we can't forget Jen's liberation movement in the jungles of Mexico!

Life is so good!

I really dislike (hate) that this blog lists the newest posts first and oldest last! It's like going backwards through life. But then again I read magazines from the back forward. Hmmm is that strange?