Happy Thanksgiving Y’all!

I wanted to wish everyone a

thanksgiving turkey

I hope y’all feel like this afterwards:

food coma turkey cats

Me? Hopefully I’ll be watching the Dallas Cowboys scalping the Washington Redskins, but I doubt it. I mean, I don’t doubt I’ll be watching the game, but I doubt the Cowboys will win. I hope I’m wrong.

More importantly, I hope to see y’all back here tomorrow, if you’ve survived Black Friday!

Thanksgiving Memories

There are lots of things I remember about Thanksgiving:

  • The golden turkey, with butter dripping from the legs

thanksgiving turkey

  • The fluffy stuffing, baked just enough for the edges to get nice and crispy (my favorite part)

thanksgiving stuffing

  • The day I no longer had to sit at the, “Kiddie Table.” I was 30 years old!


  • Halfway through the meal, my grandmother would jump up from the table, throw her hands in the air and shout, “The cranberries! I forgot the cranberries!” She would then dare anyone to take another bite until she came back with the cranberries.

thanksgiving cranberry sauce

  • The look on my face when my grandmother presented a dish of okra and tomatoes and I nearly gagged. She looked at me and said, “I remembered it was your favorite.” I thought she was crazy because I had never, EVER seen a dish so revolting. I looked at my mother and mouthed the words, “What the…?” My mother whispered, “Just go with it.” I closed my mouth to silence the gagging noises. I didn’t touch the stuff.
okra and tomatoes recipe

Yeah, that crap! **gag**

  • When my grandmother pulled out the glorious bowl of Nanner Puddin’ (banana pudding) and I heard the angels singing. Outlining the bowl were extra Nilla Wafers. Yes, I had died and gone to heaven.
banana pudding from the angels

Do you hear the angels singing? I do!

  • The hateful look I gave my uncle when he complained, “But I like pineapple in my Nanner Puddin’!” WTH? It makes the puddin’ runny. Nanner puddin’ shouldn’t be runny!
hawaiian pineapple

Noooooo Pineapples in the Nanner Puddin’ y’all!

  • The endless (and often annually repeated) jokes my uncles told, the same one’s where I completed the punchline before they could, but it never stopped them, causing my eyes to roll back inside my head.

cat not amused

  • The day I realized I was getting old when I was allowed to stick around for those dirty/perverted jokes.
embarrassed cat

Not Really…

I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Friendly reminder (because I love animals): DON’T FEED TURKEY TO YOUR CATS! I’m being serious. It can cause pancreatitis and if they survive the outcome, your wallet won’t, because it’s an expensive trip to the Veterinarian.

Oh, and don’t forget the cranberries!


A Different View of the World

I just thought this was an awesome video. It gave me goosebumps watching it and made me wish there were more people (and videos) like this out there in the world!

I hope I get caught in the act like this one of these days, because I am like the people in this video.

I AM TOO! Stop laughing!

May we all be more helpful to others, grateful, and have the ability to view the world differently!

And if you came here looking for some funnies today, please check out my archive!
You won’t regret it. Maybe. Go ahead…it’s on the right-hand side of the page. Right here —->


Bad Beans

Dad (pointing to the cupboard): There are some bad beans up there.

Mom: What are you talking about?

Dad (still pointing): Those beans in that jar. They’re bad.

Mom (holding jar):  These beans?

Dad: Yeah, they have black spots on them.

black eyed peas jar

Black-eyed Peas, y’all. NOT, “Bad Beans.”

Oh, Poop!

Have you ever pooped your pants?

baby fart picture


Let me rephrase the question. Have you ever pooped your pants as an adult?

No?  Congratulations, you must still have your gall bladder.

During the summer of 2004, I began experiencing pain in my upper-right abdominal area (right below my rib cage) and my gall bladder was eventually taken out.  I’ve heard that this pain can mimic a heart attack, but that was not the case with me.  In the middle of running at the local park, I had a sharp pain and collapsed to my knees, grabbing my side.  I drove myself to the hospital where I was admitted and given every test known to man, even cardiac tests (because of family history).

I come from a long line of gall bladder-less people.  Okay, the line is not that long: my grandmother, my mother, and me (that I know of, there could be more).  You can safely place your wagers, because we are the trifecta of pants-shitting.  Go ahead, laugh, but I will warn you that Karma is a bitch.

My Dad:  Who’s Karma and what did she do to you?

Me:  Really?

Moving on…

You gall bladder-less people know exactly what I’m talking about.  You eat certain foods and at a moment’s notice (usually not even that long), your eyeballs bulge from their sockets, sweat pops out on your forehead, and an “Uh Oh” leaks from your mouth as you scan for the nearest location to take the, “Cleveland Browns to the Super Bowl.” **wink**wink**  This never happens when you are at home and the nearest throne is down the hall.  Nope.

What really sucks is if you are on a road trip.  That’s when Murphy’s Law kicks in: if there is a possibility that something will go wrong, rest assured it will.  And you can bet that your shit-laden ass will be in the middle of nowhere where you can’t even locate the nearest outhouse.  What do you do?  Why, of course, you stop on the side of the road.  With no toilet paper.  There’s no drip-drying that crap either (no pun intended).  You have to use a leaf and send up a prayer of hope that it’s not poison ivy.  That’d really suck!

This has happened to me (not the poison ivy), because I’ve been so far up the middle of nowhere that they had to pipe in sunlight.  The nearest location: a church.  Sacrilegious, I know, but there was nowhere else to hide from oncoming traffic, and besides, when you gotta poop, the last thing you notice are your surroundings.  The tears forming in your eyes pretty much block your vision. Now, don’t go and get your panties in a twist.  I didn’t do it.  I couldn’t do it with Jesus looking down on me, shaking his head, getting ready to put another ‘X’ by my name.  Just the thought of it made the Cleveland Brown decide to wait it out for the next chance at the Super Bowl.  Thank you for listening to my prayers, God.

But don’t think I travel lightly anymore.  Open up my glove compartment and you will find baby wipes (don’t judge — they are moist and clean you as you wipe) and an extra pair of shorts (for summer) or pants (for winter).  Don’t forget the plastic bag (no littering, please!) to deposit baby wipes into…and your newly christened britches.

Try walking through a department store.  Inevitably, you’ll be in that far off aisle (the farthest away for any porcelain bowl) when the urge strikes.  Try running to the bathroom when your ass cheeks are squeezed so tight that you almost fall flat on your face.  After you fall, inevitably you poop your pants, and the manager calls for a, “clean-up in housewares, aisle 3. Bring the Febreeze, a hefty bag and a mop!”

That’s when you die of embarrassment and try to explain to anyone listening that you don’t have a gall bladder and shit happens (pun intended).

That reminds me: The Dallas Cowboys play the Cleveland Browns today.

Funny Search Engine Terms

WordPress has this fun little feature built-in where you can see what words people use to find your blog. It’s actually called, “Search Engine Terms,” but it should be called, “Hilarious things people type.”  Here are the one’s that have shown up on my statistics and I’ve added my commentary (in italics) for more fun. Enjoy!

Jen Lancaster isn’t funny
(Whatever! She’s totally hilarious!)

Thanksgiving pun images

quiet meow noisy eating weight loss
(Is this a new diet? Note to self: must try. How in the hell did they find my blog with those search terms?)

Twinkie truck
(People are obviously mourning the loss of Hostess. Uh, I’m glad I could help?)

is my gas pilot light making me sneeze
(Probably because it’s the #1 cause for allergies)

Church’s reaction to e l james (<—the author of 50 Shades of Grey)
(They probably had a bonfire after boozing it up at the local bar)

shit my pants
(If you have to search the internet to figure out if you’ve really shit your pants, you have bigger issues, my friend)

poop “his diaper”
(Ditto. See above response)

naughty halloween cartoons
(50 Shades of Grey sounds like it would be right up your alley. Pick up the Trilogy and quit looking at cartoons)

how many times is the word murmur used in 50 shades of grey
(Too many to count. Take my word for it)

saying goodbye to mother email
(just hit ‘send’ already!)

were to no c lub peng to be a host
(maybe this person should use Google Translate?)

can you get a bbl with out stomach being liposuction
(this person needs to see a doctor — STAT!)

I’m a curmudgeon i admit it
(admitting it is the first step to recovery!)

dead in a rocking chair
(I think I just lost a reader? Call 9-1-1!)

the lifee i live so you don’t have t
(clearly they lost their train of thought and couldn’t finish the sentence. Nor could they spell “life” properly)

today i pooped myself
(I’m sorry, but shit happens)

life live grammar nazi
(apparently you aren’t a grammar nazi and should seek another career)

falling down on halloween cartoons
(maybe you should watch your alcohol consumption? Just a thought.)

New one added today:  moose male enhancement

I am grateful that people are able to find my blog, but I do find their search terms rather funny!

Cranberry Babies

I have a slight addiction and another slight problem that rears its’ ugly head after I partake of said addiction.

I love dried cherries and cranberries. Not necessarily at the same time. The problem I have is that I can’t just stop at a handful. I will literally eat the whole bag.

What happens a few hours later is not so pretty.

The cramps appear and I’m not just talking about your typical every day, run of the mill, cramps. I’m talking about severe labor pains. Pains so severe that I swear I need to drive to the hospital to see how far I’ve dilated. Then I start naming the yet-to-be born cranberry babies. Depending on how much I’ve eaten, I might be the next Octomom, minus the career in porn (thank God).

Then I start thinking that I’m going to be one of those salad shooters, except it won’t be salad. It’ll be dried fruit. I’ll have my own infomercial (As Seen on TV), and Lord, it won’t be pretty. Hazmat and OSHA will have to be contacted. People will actually have to take cover, thinking that the apocalypse has arrived.  The sounds of rapid-fire gunshot will echo for hours and cranberries will ricochet from the walls.

You’d think that I’d learn my lesson, but nope. Put a bag of those dried goodies within my reach and the process starts all over again.

Have mercy on me.