http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=m-blMwPmiW8VLIhVUd8IRQ&u=/watch?v=Gs_M0O-nQzQ&feature=share

PLEASE SHARE THIS VIDEO AND SPREAD THE WORD :)

HALLOWEEN- TRICKING THE SYSTEM

image

It’s no secret that Trick-or- Treating began long before we did it here in America. Without teaching a lesson in the history of trick- or- treating, keeping it short, it was known as souling or guising and people traditionally went door to door asking for money, bread, cheese, butter, eggs, etc. Some history has to with soul cakes and fairies, and some has to do with the exchange for work. Either way- America got a hold of it and stepped it up.

In America, we no longer go door to door and expect money- we call that a Welfare check and we do not have to go anywhere to get it, except for an occasional meeting to be reviewed and basically… mostly be judged and humiliated by people who have enough money to provide for their families - then we get a check in the mail or as I’ve heard from it’s recipients, is now received on a debit card. 
We do not ask for dairy products door to door- we fixed that, too- we have what is known as WIC. WIC is to make certain that pregnant women, infants and children receive the proper amount of dairy and healthy foods during pregnancy and post pregnancy for a certain period of time. 
Both of these programs have their ups and downs and I really have no issue with either one of them. Just because some people take advantage of a system doesn’t mean that everyone should be punished or ridiculed and made to suffer when they truly need help. Just like your neighbor doesn’t go to jail for tax evasion if you don’t file your taxes.
My problem with the whole thing is that I believe the trick-or-treating system in America has failed. It, too, with all of the other programs in trouble right now, needs revamping. For instance, I would like to go door to door this Halloween to get my eggs, cheese, bread, butter and milk. I will dress up if you feel it’s important, but I think you should carry my groceries to my car for me, because I’ll likely be wearing heels in order to slut it up a bit in hopes of getting name brand products.
I also don’t think it would be out of the way for me to go tricking for money, maybe the day after, because let’s face it- I’m going to be exhausted after grocery shopping. I also don’t recall ever actually tricking someone, or seeing someone tricked who refused to give a treat. I think we need to get a grasp on the term “trick-OR-treat” with emphasis on the “or” and utilize it more often. Somehow in America ,we have taken a tradition that clearly states it’s intentions of tricking the hell out of someone who does not participate, and let them off the hook by simply turning off their porch light. Instead- we obediently march only to doors who welcome us and then trick the very people who have done nothing to us. I’m just curious to know what the hell would happen if I grabbed the nose and honked or pulled a quarter from behind the ear of someone who didn’t give me a treat on Halloween after I asked for one. 
The entire week of Halloween, we are throwing eggs at people who have to rely  on WIC in order to get enough eggs, and we are wasting very expensive toilet paper to roll houses and cars. From now on, I think we should just use old magazines and newspapers that are stacked up around the house because we don’t want to just throw them away- yet we have no idea what to do with them.  This of course would take a lot more time and effort, and eventually, the tradition of rolling would cease. I’m not sure who these kids think they’re fooling anyway. I do not know a single teenager who does the toilet paper shopping for the household, and when I see a teen buying such products, just know- I’ve got my eye on you. 
And lastly- my four lb. dog trick- or- treats every single day. At least twice a day he does a trick,sits, like that’s so hard to do, and I give him a treat- he accepts it, takes a leak outside, and lays back down on a pillow and sleeps. Any awake time is spent begging me for another treat. He’s really working it. In the event that I do not give him a treat, he accepts my response, pisses in my shoe and pouts. Now the joke is on me and I put two and two together- either our dogs are truly running this country, or at the very least, they are it’s true creators- and the only ones who truly understand  Halloween. Now head on over to the column on your right and vote in the trick-or-treating poll!
Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

NENE LEAKES AND KIM ZOLCIAK- BIERMANN. FRIENDS THAT FIGHT TOGETHER, GET RICH TOGETHER

 I am a NeNe Leakes bride. NeNe Leakes and Kim Zolciak- Biermann started off as friends and then fought their way to two separate spin-off shows, one for each. Those heads are not just another wig-rack. Don’t get it twisted! And believe me- neither of them had to suffer a Poke’mon wedding. And I have a few people I’d like to tell off from time to time- where’s my camera crew? Call me when you’re ready- Bloop!

http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=zfCR6ueRLpAMBvU51awAww&u=/watch?v=E-ET1iRSiRA&feature=share

That’s me! I’m Tennessee, talkin’ to Oprah! 

GOD, WHY DON’T KIDS COME WITH AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL?
Finally got around to watching ‘Bethenny’ on DVR today. I love that Jenni Pulos has a rap about poo, but that was just one of the many things the show brought to the forefront of my mind today. Watching, it seemed like I had an opinion on just about EVERYTHING!First, go, Bethenny for calling out the doctor making comments on your usage of Botox. I don’t feel like Botox is something I could do, but that doesn’t mean I never will. Of course I will need to make a lot more money to afford such luxuries, but I’m currently on the fence about the Botox usage, so it’s okay that I’m too poor to try it out.Next- I apparently missed the recent story in the news about the family having the police called to Applebee’s because they had rowdy children. Get the hell over it. I have seen some mean ass, rotten children, and I have been annoyed by them at times, but when I see this, I  mostly feel sorry for the parents. No doubt because I’ve been there, done that! I understand what the majority of those parents are feeling. Utter humiliation! And everyone doesn’t give birth to perfect and laid back children. There are a lot of different factors that make up a rowdy child, and most of the time, it’s not bad parenting. I can’t give you scientific numbers, but my expertise is in rotten-ass children. Three of them to be exact.I know when my first son was two years old I thought I’d never make it out alive. Taking off through the stores, going wild, me chasing after him, crying and screaming at the top of his lungs if I made him stay in the buggy- you name it. And to be perfectly honest, I was terrified. I was humiliated, but had no idea how I was expected to react. I knew I was going to try to catch him and try to calm him, but I was also concerned about the public around me and what the hell they must be thinking. I assumed if I swatted his bottom, someone would either accuse me of abuse or at the very least make evil comments to me. When, in hindsight, most people were probably wondering why in the hell I didn’t beat his ass or at least be more stern when scolding him.I remember thinking when someone told me there was no such thing as the terrible twos and it would get worse when he was three, this was where I knew better, because it couldn’t possibly get any worse. Boy was I ever wrong! It seemed like he reached terrible twos x ten the very day he turned three.The second son came along and when he was two, that gave me a four year old and a two year old to chase. And the second one was way more high-strung! He was literally “Code Adam” and “Code Red” in two different stores in the same week. If you’re not familiar with the codes- those are codes for a lost child and they put the entire store on lock down, with an employee at every exit so that no one can exit the store with the child. I feel the need to mention that he was found under a clothes rack in one instance and in the second…well, let’s just say I was more than a little embarrassed when I turned a corner frantically searching for my son and saw him laughing hysterically and running, darting in and out of clothes racks, from side to side…with store employees chasing behind him. He was a fast little booger. No. That wasn’t exhausting or humiliating. No. Not at all. And let’s not forget, I still had the shopping to do after these dreadful workouts. The fact was that I simply could not chase two children at one time if they were going in different directions. I had to make a choice every ten seconds and usually  tried to grab whoever was closest or in the most danger of getting taken by a stranger- but at the same time, their antics pretty much made them kidnapper proof since kidnappers don’t want children who aren’t afraid of anything and would have no problem kicking them in the balls just for fun. It wasn’t quite over, either. That same week, my same loving, adorable two year old who had coded two stores that week, also ate Mothballs and had to sit at the local Fire Department for a while throwing up in a pan. Before you judge me- I didn’t leave the Mothballs where my children could easily reach them. No, I did worse. When he discovered a Mothball under a couch cushion that I had overlooked after having the furniture stored while in the process of moving and actually brought it to me and showed it to me saying,” Look, Mommy, I have a Dinosaur Egg ” I nodded my head sweetly to him responding with, “yes, very cool, sweetie!” as I talked to a visitor knowing that he did, in fact, have Dinosaur Egg candy. It wasn’t until he walked back over to us moments later with pieces of it broken up and running down his chin in his drool with a disgusted look on his face, that I could smell it and instantly knew what had happened. Visit over! The Fire Department was very close by, thank GOD! This same child that week- and when I say “that week” I mean in five days time- also took a trip to the Emergency Room to get five staples in the back of his head after taking advantage of the fact that I had stepped outside to hold the flashlight for their father who was working on the car and decided to try and turn a flip on on the clothes rod in the closet and fell and hit his head on the corner of a box. That was a really rough week, but he’s seventeen now and has shown no signs of slowing down. The difference is- I’ve grown accustomed to it and I’m much calmer when he injures himself, because I always expect it.The point is- it truly does take a village to raise one child, so the next time you see a woman with spit up or already chewed up food on her clothes, leaving her purse in the buggy in order to chase her rotten ass kids in different directions…give her the sympathy smile and nod to let her know she’s not a horrible mother and it would be perfectly acceptable to sit down in the floor and cry if she needs to. And pray for their safe return home and that she is able to at least get hamburger meat and Macaroni in the buggy before giving up and going home.By the way- by the time my third child came along, a beautiful daughter, I no longer gave two shits what other people in the store were thinking. I didn’t care if I looked like a crazy woman. I had to catch those damn kids no matter what other people thought and I loved their rotten asses.Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

GOD, WHY DON’T KIDS COME WITH AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL?

Finally got around to watching ‘Bethenny’ on DVR today. I love that Jenni Pulos has a rap about poo, but that was just one of the many things the show brought to the forefront of my mind today. Watching, it seemed like I had an opinion on just about EVERYTHING!

First, go, Bethenny for calling out the doctor making comments on your usage of Botox. I don’t feel like Botox is something I could do, but that doesn’t mean I never will. Of course I will need to make a lot more money to afford such luxuries, but I’m currently on the fence about the Botox usage, so it’s okay that I’m too poor to try it out.

Next- I apparently missed the recent story in the news about the family having the police called to Applebee’s because they had rowdy children. Get the hell over it. I have seen some mean ass, rotten children, and I have been annoyed by them at times, but when I see this, I  mostly feel sorry for the parents. No doubt because I’ve been there, done that! I understand what the majority of those parents are feeling. Utter humiliation! And everyone doesn’t give birth to perfect and laid back children. There are a lot of different factors that make up a rowdy child, and most of the time, it’s not bad parenting. I can’t give you scientific numbers, but my expertise is in rotten-ass children. Three of them to be exact.

I know when my first son was two years old I thought I’d never make it out alive. Taking off through the stores, going wild, me chasing after him, crying and screaming at the top of his lungs if I made him stay in the buggy- you name it. And to be perfectly honest, I was terrified. I was humiliated, but had no idea how I was expected to react. I knew I was going to try to catch him and try to calm him, but I was also concerned about the public around me and what the hell they must be thinking. I assumed if I swatted his bottom, someone would either accuse me of abuse or at the very least make evil comments to me. When, in hindsight, most people were probably wondering why in the hell I didn’t beat his ass or at least be more stern when scolding him.

I remember thinking when someone told me there was no such thing as the terrible twos and it would get worse when he was three, this was where I knew better, because it couldn’t possibly get any worse. Boy was I ever wrong! It seemed like he reached terrible twos x ten the very day he turned three.

The second son came along and when he was two, that gave me a four year old and a two year old to chase. And the second one was way more high-strung! He was literally “Code Adam” and “Code Red” in two different stores in the same week. If you’re not familiar with the codes- those are codes for a lost child and they put the entire store on lock down, with an employee at every exit so that no one can exit the store with the child. I feel the need to mention that he was found under a clothes rack in one instance and in the second…well, let’s just say I was more than a little embarrassed when I turned a corner frantically searching for my son and saw him laughing hysterically and running, darting in and out of clothes racks, from side to side…with store employees chasing behind him. He was a fast little booger. No. That wasn’t exhausting or humiliating. No. Not at all. And let’s not forget, I still had the shopping to do after these dreadful workouts.

 The fact was that I simply could not chase two children at one time if they were going in different directions. I had to make a choice every ten seconds and usually  tried to grab whoever was closest or in the most danger of getting taken by a stranger- but at the same time, their antics pretty much made them kidnapper proof since kidnappers don’t want children who aren’t afraid of anything and would have no problem kicking them in the balls just for fun. It wasn’t quite over, either. That same week, my same loving, adorable two year old who had coded two stores that week, also ate Mothballs and had to sit at the local Fire Department for a while throwing up in a pan. Before you judge me- I didn’t leave the Mothballs where my children could easily reach them. No, I did worse. When he discovered a Mothball under a couch cushion that I had overlooked after having the furniture stored while in the process of moving and actually brought it to me and showed it to me saying,” Look, Mommy, I have a Dinosaur Egg ” I nodded my head sweetly to him responding with, “yes, very cool, sweetie!” as I talked to a visitor knowing that he did, in fact, have Dinosaur Egg candy. It wasn’t until he walked back over to us moments later with pieces of it broken up and running down his chin in his drool with a disgusted look on his face, that I could smell it and instantly knew what had happened. Visit over! The Fire Department was very close by, thank GOD! This same child that week- and when I say “that week” I mean in five days time- also took a trip to the Emergency Room to get five staples in the back of his head after taking advantage of the fact that I had stepped outside to hold the flashlight for their father who was working on the car and decided to try and turn a flip on on the clothes rod in the closet and fell and hit his head on the corner of a box. That was a really rough week, but he’s seventeen now and has shown no signs of slowing down. The difference is- I’ve grown accustomed to it and I’m much calmer when he injures himself, because I always expect it.

The point is- it truly does take a village to raise one child, so the next time you see a woman with spit up or already chewed up food on her clothes, leaving her purse in the buggy in order to chase her rotten ass kids in different directions…give her the sympathy smile and nod to let her know she’s not a horrible mother and it would be perfectly acceptable to sit down in the floor and cry if she needs to. And pray for their safe return home and that she is able to at least get hamburger meat and Macaroni in the buggy before giving up and going home.

By the way- by the time my third child came along, a beautiful daughter, I no longer gave two shits what other people in the store were thinking. I didn’t care if I looked like a crazy woman. I had to catch those damn kids no matter what other people thought and I loved their rotten asses.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

I know a guy where we can get counseling and our car washed too.

Uh-haha, I know a guy, too. We’re getting a pre-nup or you’re fired. BLOOP!

Meet my barrelasin’ cousin’s feet. I swear to you- this is not a joke, but it’s funny as hell! She got herself out of bed on Friday morning, got ready for work, put these two totally different shoes on her feet and drove all the way to her office and walked in before the thought crossed her mind-“my feet feel a little funny.” 
The shoes look nothing alike! She must have had one hell of a Thursday night! I can’t stop laughing. She had to sit at her desk like this all day long. Too much!

Meet my barrelasin’ cousin’s feet. I swear to you- this is not a joke, but it’s funny as hell! She got herself out of bed on Friday morning, got ready for work, put these two totally different shoes on her feet and drove all the way to her office and walked in before the thought crossed her mind-“my feet feel a little funny.” 

The shoes look nothing alike! She must have had one hell of a Thursday night! I can’t stop laughing. She had to sit at her desk like this all day long. Too much!