Where even the roadkill drinks shitty beer!
Looks posed, doesn't it? I swear to God it's not. Even funnier than this pic is the pic I didn't take - the one of R crouching down on the side of the road to get close enough the Redneck Roadkill to read the words Milwaukee's Best.
That R is so dedicated.
Oh, before I forget, I should mention that today Tito received a Thank You postcard from Johnathon and Lubaba. Note the lack of punctuation. It's not even a sentence.
I'm pretty sure I've said this before - generic Thank You postcards are for pussies. Sit your ass down and, at the very least, write a three-sentence NOTE thanking me for coming to your party, naming the specific gift I gave you and telling me how much you like it.
I ran out and picked that gift up in five minutes because your bitch ass amended your son's birthday party to include your little Lubaba and neglected to make it clear, and I nearly gave myself a fucking aneurysm just so YOU wouldn't have to explain to a crying 3-year-old why her brother got a gift and she didn't. THANK ME, you twat.
I'm thinking that The Tale of Lubaba is going to be one for the ages. (In case you missed it, here's a link. Scroll down to G.) Anytime I'm totally beyond pissed off, those Fuckeleven moments(if ya know what I'm sayin), my battle cry shall forevermore be -
Kinda like Xena's Attack Whoop.
It would probably embody the Don't You Even THINK of Fuckin With Me Warrior Princess Spirit if I were six feet tall and clad in leather. The leather, I could swing, but unfortunately, I'll never be six feet tall.
Anyway, speaking of intimidating costumes, last weekend was the annual Pevely Flea Market Halloween Costume Contest, which you may remember is a cherished Karma family Halloween tradition.
There are actually two things I love most about Halloween. The first is how for an entire month the unsightly cobwebs on my front porch are dismissed as Rather Realistic Decorations. And the second is walking around the Pevely Flea Market and trying to figure out who's in costume and who normally dresses like a NASCAR driver every Sunday.
The last two years, we've taken two of the costume prizes. This year's Team Karma entry:
Pie was Indiana Jones, Tito was Luke Skywalker (robe hand-made by R and me), and Beebie was a Christmas Tree complete with ornaments and actual working lights. Oh, and a topper on her head.
Apparently we didn't get the memo that this year's theme was Slutty Corpses. I was tempted to ask one little girl if she was supposed to be JonBenet, but I thought that might be in poor taste. See? I DO have a filter.
Pie's Indiana Jones costume won for his age group, as did some little skank dressed as store-bought Pocahontas with really ridiculous faux-Indian face paint and fucking FLIP-FLOPS.
Oh, and check out the lady behind Poke-a-whore's-ass. The one carrying a little girl with pigtails who's wearing an Elvis costume. For a second I thought the woman was Tonya Harding.
Tito's age group's winners were a store-bought Pirate costume and a store-bought Cinderella. None of my kids were in the 8-9 group, thank God, because I would have strangled the mother of this little She-Devil slut:
Her mom was a total Stage Mother. See her right in the front?
R captured the moment when her little angel won.
Way to go, Sweetheart! You're the biggest slut of all!
Then came the 10-11 year olds. Look how pretty my Beebie looks. Not a bit of makeup. Natural beauty.
Beebie got HOSED. The winners were, on her right, a winged werewolf (um, huh??) and, on her left, a kinda clever costume of a person with their head in a cage or something. Beeb was bummed, and so was I. My children's costumes were a million times cuter and I worked my ASS off on Beebie's. It took me hours to stitch all that shit on her dress.
EDIT: By the way, since I posted this morning, a regular BMB reader told me I sounded bitter about the whole Pevely thing and that calling the little girls sluts and whores was completely uncalled for.
Maybe, but do you know for a fact that they're NOT whores?
Lighten the Fuck UP. It was a joke, people. Ok, I'm sorry if I offended anyone; that was certainly not my intent. But it was meant to be so ridiculously over-the-top that any bitterness would come across as comical. Typical PK, I thought.
You're familiar with my sense of humor, aren't you? I make fun of people. And, far more frequently, I make fun of myself. Some people think I'm funny, some people don't. You may have noticed that little X up in the right-hand corner of your screen...
But that's not what I wanted to write about today.
Today's my Cooter Rootin'. Wish me luck.