Posts Tagged ‘lists’

I’m sure you’ve heard it all, right? And all the variations of “it all.”

Ever wondered what was up with all the alternatives? Of course you haven’t…that is something only I would sit and ponder. Just the same, I thought I would lay it out as I see it.

Y’know…just because I thought it might somehow enrich your life. At the very least, the next time you use an F-Word Alternative you will think long and hard about your choice of variations…and know that I was right about you based on nothing but that. Cause I’m good like that.


Eff/Effing- This one is the lazy guy’s alternative. Or the alternative you use when you want to use the real thing, but might be in polite company (or amongst in-laws). This one is the most generic of F-Word Alternatives.

Ex. “What the eff was that!?”  …as a meteor crashes down into a nearby lake, causing an epic fountain that rains on your parade.


Freaking– The most commonly accepted form of the word, most often used by women and conservative men. This form is usually used in humorous situations and/or to show disbelief.

Ex. “No freaking way!! She wore her ‘Zero to Bitch’ t-shirt to church!?!?!?”


Frickin’– The teeny-bopper (or very immature female) version of freaking. This one is usually punctuated by giggles, except when used in anger, when it is seeped in righteous indignation and usually spat out venomously.

Ex. “Can you believe he dumped me for Little Miss Frickin‘ Perfect??” …from the 12 year old cheerleader in the blue eyeliner.


Friggin’– The good ole boys’ version of frickin’, although not usually used in an angry context. For the most part, the male species doesn’t find use for curse-word-alternatives when angry. They use the real thing. Friggin’ is usually used in descriptive phrases, and most often in discussions that have the sole purpose of establishing superiority over another male and/or his possessions.

Also heard most often in Texas…for some reason.

Ex. “You shoulda seen the size o’ that friggin’ boar!”…usually spoken too loudly and from a vantage point of at least the height of the tailgate of a Chevy.


Fudge– Used almost exclusively by parents, this one is the most widely accepted form of the F-Word to be used in the company of children. Variations of this one are many and seem to be regional, and include: flak, frak, flake, flip/flipping, etc.

Ex. “OW, FUDGE” …as you knock a thumbnail off trying to hammer in one of those impossibly small nails that seem to come with any child-geared wall-hanging.


And there you have it…don’t you feel enlightened? 🙂


Since I have started blogging, there is one person that never never fails to read my posts, share them on Facebook, and encourage me to keep going (or kick me in the ass with a reminder that I have “neglected my duties”) more than anyone. The topic of this post was her idea and suggestion, and I decided to run with it…Thanks Susy!

The “Bucket List.” It’s a popular thing now…and mine is one of the few blogs without one. Seems everyone is making a list of what they fully intend to do and want to experience before it’s too late.

That’s not what this is.

Yeah, yeah, someday I will make a Bucket List of my own…and I will post it here for your amusement.

But this one is a little different. My list for today is going to be all the things you NEVER once thought you would do, intended NOT to do, or otherwise ended up involved in that you would never have planned on.

This isn’t exactly an Anti-Bucket List, but similar.

This is the Bucket List that Fate would have written for you with her cruel twists and gleeful cosmic jokes…

  • You will travel several states away in search of an ancient cemetery for the purpose of…well, you won’t have a good reason. You will take this 36 hour road trip on a bus with dozens of strangers. (some of my cooler relatives actually did this one)
  • You will grow up without the intention of EVER having children because you like the order and freedom of your own existence too much to share. Then you will be blessed not only with two children, but two children JUST LIKE YOU.
  • You will spend adolescence fighting with your mother about your messy room…then you will develop adult-onset OCD…and have a messy child.
  • You will overcome your shyness in one fateful night, and realize this when you wake up the morning after your twenty-first birthday party with the terrible realization that you accepted a new job the night before…as a bartender in the bar you celebrated in.
  • You will find out that the bartending job will become the most loved and long-lasting job you ever had. You will discover yourself behind that sticky bar, make some of your dearest friends, and learn more than college ever thought to teach. You will get comfortable in your own skin and come out of your shell to never go back in.
  • You will spend more on an education you will never use than you will make in any one decade of your life.
  • You will get mad at a boyfriend and pack your bags, call a cousin to come get you, and move out of the state.
  • You will find out that the cousins you fight with as children become damn good friends as adults.
  • You will not forget the people who were cruel to you in high school. You will also not forget the people who were kind.
  • You will discover that you work much better for yourself.
  • You will be a night-owl in a world of people who leap out of bed at sunup like a freaking cheerleader on crack…you will resent these people and spend your life making coffee and trying to convince them NOT to call you before noon.
  • You will discover that the only thing you need for an impromptu trip to Albuquerque (simply because you like the name and you’ve never been) is two friends, a Ford pickup with an intact radio, a giant bag of Funyuns, and someone’s boyfriend’s gas card.
  • You will discover that the return trip (from anywhere) is never as great as the trip there. Unless you took a bus, then got smart and rented a car to come home in.
  • You will have an incurable soft spot for cats. You will marry a man who is allergic to them.
  • You will bungee jump for the first time in the parking lot of a Ford Dealership from a rusty crane. Your mother won’t speak to you for a month.
  • You will learn to drive a stick shift. You will abandon the whole concept in the middle of college traffic at 5pm on a Friday in the middle of the busiest intersection in town and hitch a ride home. The owner of the extended cab, long-bed Ford dually will have to come fish his boat out of traffic himself. He will forgive you…eventually.
  • You will take out a mailbox with an 18-wheeler.
  • You will yell at inept tech-support people at AT&T, at least two bosses, and a bank manager.
  • You will throw flaming cookies out a seventh floor window after forgetting they were baking…for a couple of hours.
  • You will stand barefoot (as a child) on a fish your dad caught and talk about the “whale.” You will also tell him it’s “darker than hell” outside while sitting on the armrest of his truck.
  • You will learn to speak a foreign language well enough to start a fight.
  • You will laugh in spite of yourself the first time your child says “dammit.”
  • You will get out of speeding tickets by crying, flirting, and using the “but I really gotta pee!” excuse. Then you will marry a cop.
  • You will stash photos of a cowboy water-skiing in swim trunks and a stetson for later blackmail material. You will later exchange these photos for equally incriminating ones of yourself.
  • You will organize at least one bikini square dance.
  • You will creep through old houses at night with friends and be convinced there are ghosts.
  • You will believe in ghosts, vampires, and superstition…and not care who knows it.
  • You will get tattoos and piercings.
  • You will learn that following all the rules and doing everything “by the book” would have made you a completely different person…and you won’t regret a damn thing.


My kids have a LOT of crap. I knew this, but it didn’t really sink in until I waded in there yesterday armed with a box marked “garage sale” and a trash bag.

I came out four hours later with 5 garage sale boxes, 4 FULL trashbags, and a box of the dishes that I’ve been searching for.

I found treasure, trash, and things that made me go “hmmm…”

Best in Treasures:

  • 6 HotWheels that we thought were gone for good
  • 2 Barbies…sans clothing
  • A Barbie leg…that did not match the above-mentioned Barbies
  • My favorite coffee mug
  • 9 socks
  • A tennis shoe, a houseshoe, and a flip flop
  • A cat (seriously…he snuck in while I was working…with the help of the Climber)
  • 2 sheets of stickers that had never been stuck on anything
  • My slate grey eyeliner
  • Lots of batteries
  • Goodnight Moon
  • 4 Littlest Pet Shop critters

Best in Trash:

  • Lots and lots of discarded papers and tissues…of course
  • 2 half-licked-clean suckers
  • What I think was once a Tootsie Roll (I hope)
  • My son’s cracker stash
  • My daughter’s rock stash
  • A bundle of dead dandelions
  • A lock of my daughter’s hair…that we thankfully had (apparently) never missed

Best of the Things that made me go Hmmm:

  • What “Flart” goo apparently does when it dries to a bedpost
  • Play-Doh rocks
  • Lots of little animals wearing clothing from the naked Barbies
  • My son’s suitcase…packed and ready to go courtesy of the Diva
  • Roughly 57 movies in the wrong cases
  • Chapstick stash IN the CD player
  • Something green and glittery in a teacup
  • Something pink and sticky in the oven of the play kitchen
  • Something fuzzy under the bed (later identified as the wayward cat)

The garage sale boxes were full of outgrown clothes and unused toys.

The biggest treasure of all…


I found something cool today…a little late, considering I have had a blog here for a while…while I was exploring the finer points of the “new” WordPress features.

I was proud of myself; I normally can’t be bothered with the technical aspects of online shyte, like stats, search terms, search engine optimization and all that. It’s enough for me to know what that means.

Anyway, I found a great little list of the search terms that people have used to find me! Considering the list is pretty useless for a technological hater like me, the great treasure in finding it for me was purely in for entertainment…

Until I began to notice some of the terms people have typed into Google that ultimately led them here to me. That’s when I began to worry.

I am aware there are some strange and unusual people out there with their freak flags waving high and proud, but I preferred to think that they were out there somewhere reading sci-fi blogs and adding weird photos to the Cheezburger network. They are…but they are also finding me!!!

The people in white coats with giant butterfly nets are going to come after me if I keep showing up in some of these crazy disturbing searches!!!

Here are some of the more, um…colorful phrases that have led them here to m:

  • Hippie voicemail – Did hippies have voicemail?  Yeah, yeah, I know…the title of my blog ties in here…but what the heck were they actually looking for? I might just want to read that one!
  • Make trash – Do I talk about trash too much? When? I do not have a single trash tag that I recall. Granted, I have the occasional incidence of blogging while drinking, but I do not remember discussing trash in any great detail.
  • Naked hippie children photos – Ok, this one is a little alarming. Are we talking about a naked hippie looking for photos of children? Or some pervert looking for photos of children with long hair and birthday suits flashing a peace sign? Either way, NOT someone I want hanging around!
  • Cowboy gun spinning – I feel sorry for the poor redneck who was looking for instructions on how to spin their revolver around a finger a la Doc Holiday and instead found my story about the snake and the flip-flop. Poor guy might still be sitting shell-shocked in front of his computer wondering why in the hell some people attempt the redneck life when they are clearly out of their league and wearing the wrong shoes.
  • Minion bed sheet – Bed sheets for minions? Bed sheets with minions printed on them? Someone found a minion in their bed?
  • History of catnip – “Hey, look…some leafy plants! Let’s go feed it to an animal and see what happens!”
  • fears tough men have – This was probably searched for by an angry housewife looking to scare her husband into submission…
  • karma lessons for the scorpions – Say what!?!? I am picturing a gothic-dressed teeny-bopper who likes to pretend she’s Wiccan, sitting in a beanbag chair with a purple and black spray-painted laptop searching for revenge spells to cast on her evil classmates. Or a mis-guided classic rock fan.
  • Can i sell a kidney in Texas – This one bothers me a bit…I somehow didn’t think the black market for organs would have been too widespread in Texas. The kidney-selling scene is one I always pictured being more popular on some yuppie college campus up North. It does make me wonder, though…how much does a kidney sell for?
  • Happily psychotic – Hehee, now THIS person might have actually been looking for ME!
  • Hippie minion – Exactly what makes a minion become a hippie minion? Is it a penchant for running around naked? Check. Unruly hair and a love of classic rock? Check. Wears love beads? Check.   I guess I have a couple of hippie minions. Was this person in the market for one? If so, I might consider renting mine out.
  • Anaconda face close up snaps – Ok, where in the hell did this one come from, and HOW did it direct a person to this blog???
  • Chauffer waiting – I don’t have a chauffeur. Especially one that waits on me. This person must have been sadly disappointed. Another thing…how did anything mis-spelled direct anyone here??? That offends me deeply.
  • Happy hippie house cleaning – Is this a service they offer? And do they make good money? I could clean houses in my best ripped jeans, singing “Tuesday’s Gone” loudly and off-key, and using the foaming glass cleaner to draw smiley faces and peace signs on people’s windows. Where do I sign up???

Well, that about does it for the really outrageous search terms. I will continue to strive to be random enough that I get “found” by lots and lots of freak-flag-waving psychos so that I will have another good batch of outrageous search terms for you soon.

Have a great night, my hippie minions and gun-spinning scorpion fans…

A while back I listed the reasons writers are…um…difficult people to deal with in many cases. I feel that, as a photographer as well, I should make a list for them, too.

See? I am truly a pain in the ass for soooo many reasons! 😉

So, photographers are a pain in the ass because…

  • They see the world in little rectangles, as they would appear in a photograph.
  • They will often “frame” these things with their hands to size up an imaginary shot…quite distracting to be in the middle of a conversation when suddenly the person you’re talking to “frames” you, squinting with one closed eye. Do you continue talking, or strike a pose? Depends on the photographer…
  • Even in the most casual of situations where most people would happily snap a quick photo and move on, a photographer has to stop everything to fuss with someone’s hair or clothing, shift everyone over a half inch, and complain about the light (or lack thereof).
  • “You would look so great in sepia!”  Seriously? Is that a compliment, or are you telling me my color is all wrong and should just be removed from the equation??
  • You are NEVER allowed to touch the camera. There could be a rabid dog scaling the wall outside about to come in the window and the only escape you have is through a door that has “the camera” sitting nearby on an unstable table. You must navigate that door WITHOUT TOUCHING THE CAMERA…or the consequences would make you wish for the return of Cujo.
  • The camera is named, and referred to in casual conversation much the way a beloved sibling is mentioned. Pretending to be confused as you ask again “Who is Lucy?” causes hilarious drama.
  • For a simple photo of you and your lover, you get to watch the photographer talk in baby talk, squeal and laugh, fix your hair, crawl around on the ground, climb trees, fix your hair again, and suddenly exclaim “There it is!!!” as the camera goes off on a series of rapid-fire clicks.
  • EVERYTHING is a prop. “There, hold that grilled cheese just like that and SMILE!!”
  • “Say CHEESE!!”  Or fuzzy pickles, or happy!!
  • If there is a lightning storm within a twenty mile radius, you will find the photographer happily sitting out in the rain under a cardboard box, snapping six hundred photos of a section of sky.
  • If you manage to get a photographer to go on a trip of any kind without THE CAMERA, prepare yourself for whining that rivals a four year old with pneumonia…or a teenager deprived of their phone and music.
  • You might as well just resign yourself to the fact that a photographer in the family means hundreds or thousands of photos of yourself in the most awkward situations. There is no stopping them, and “I don’t photograph well,” is taken as a direct challenge.

The mommy job is all about gaining a certain number of points per day. It’s a lot like Weight Watchers…everything you do adds (or subtracts) points, and by the end of the day you need to be in a certain range to have successfully completed your day’s work as a Mommy.

You start the day with a few points to begin with, because you deserve them for just taking on the roles of:

  • Mother
  • Cook
  • Chauffer
  • Nurse (boo-boo kisser and Band-aid dispenser)
  • Party planner
  • Fashion coordinator
  • Hair stylist
  • Nose wiper
  • Maid
  • Referee
  • Activities director (and Travel agent)
  • Conscience and Voice of Reason
  • TV/DVD/Stereo/Computer fixer
  • Battery replacer
  • Librarian
  • Teacher
  • Judge and jury
  • Zookeeper

Therefore, all mommies start the day with 50 Mommy Points!

Your goal at the end of each and every day is actually up to you.

Level 1 Mommies: Stressed out mommies with multiple children, full-time jobs, and a single status are perfectly justified in their goal of not gaining points, but simply maintaining their 50 Mommy Points and making sure the kids are healthy and accounted for by the end of the day.

Level 2 Mommies: Middle of the road mommies usually end the day with about 150 Mommy Points, kids in bed drifting off with a movie, the worst of the clutter tossed into a closet, and tomorrow’s jeans in the dryer.

Level 3 Mommies: Super Mom…well, she finishes the day with 300 Mommy Points, a roast in the crock pot for tomorrow, the coffeemaker set to start brewing at the ass-crack of dawn, everyone’s outfits for tomorrow laid out and coordinated according to each other and the weather…and a perfectly pressed red cape hanging on the door ready for the next morning.


Here it is…the POINTS LIST!!

Good Morning!!!

Good Morning Momma!!!

Congratulations, the act of not hiding out under the sheets all day is an accomplishment! It’s a little like starting the semester with an A…you just have to keep it! Good Luck!

+50         Getting out of bed.

-50          Hiding under the covers until someone calls the authorities.


Starting Out:

Once you’ve made it out of bed, the day has to begin, whether you want it to or not. Here are the Mommy Points you can gain (or lose) right out of the gate.

+10         Putting on real clothes before noon.

+15         Those clothes are clean, dry, and match.

+5           Brushing your hair and teeth.

+5           Applying makeup and styling hair in something other than a messy ponytail.

+5           Getting the children dressed in real clothes before noon.

+10         Those clothes are clean, dry, and match.

+10         Children’s hair and teeth brushed.

+5           Little girls’ hair styled.

-25          Wearing PJ’s until it’s time to go back to bed at night.

-10          Limp hair tied back in a messy bun (that you put it in three days ago).

-15          Any child leaves home wearing shorts, snow boots, a sweater-vest, and a necktie.


Feeding Time:


+5           Cereal.

+10         Instant oatmeal, cream of wheat, or malt’o’meal.

+15         Scrambled eggs.

+25         Eggs (any style BUT scrambled), pancakes or waffles, bacon or sausage, toast or biscuits.

-5            Pop-Tarts.

-10          Cookies.

-25          Drag the kids out of the cat’s food bowl and bribe into car with chocolate.

Lunch and Dinner:

+20         Home-cooked and healthy.

+10         Sandwiches and apple slices.

+5           Lunchables.

-10          McDonald’s.

-15          Chips.

-25          Mixing up the doggie bacon with the kids’ bacon.

-45          They need food?


+5           Fruit, raw veggies, baked chips, rice cakes, granola bars, or trail mix.

-5            Candy, cookies, cake, or anything with caffeine.

-20          Whatever they can scavenge from the yard or the neighbors kitchen.


Safety and Security:

+5           Playpens.

+10         Baby backpacks and carriers.

+15         Fenced yards with sandboxes and NO jungle gyms/trees/monkey-bars.

Lovin' the Great Outdoors!

+45         Going outside anytime the kids do.

+10         Helmets and pads for appropriate sports.


+5           Handy supply of Band-Aids.

+10         Seat belts and car-seats for any outing.

...but he IS buckled up!

+10         Jackets, gloves, hats, and other appropriate clothing when there is white stuff everywhere and you can see your breath.

+10         Sunscreen and bottled water when you step outside and start sweating.

-20          Losing a child for any amount of time.

+15         Finding that child within a few minutes (and a few miles).

-35          Not noticing you have lost a child until the police bring them back.

-10          Leaving the dog in charge, that only works in Disney homes.

A Girl and her Dog


Random Common (and not so common) Happenings:

+25         Time playing outside and doing things that don’t involve TV.

+15         Limiting TV to age-appropriate shows.

+10         Setting the Dish to turn to your child’s favorite show every day at the same time.

+15         Enforcing naptime.

+5           Board games and coloring.

-5            Video games (except educational…those cancel out to no loss or gain).

-20          Setting the Dish wrong, and not realizing that your child has been watching Criminal Minds or Law & Order S.V.U. every day for the last month.

+5           Considering that an educational experience and double checking the TV from now on.

+25         Your child knows how to pretend.

+30         Pretending with your child, even if it means wearing the tiara and drinking air tea.

-10          You manage to get overheard by the 4 year old when discussing how much money you should leave for a tooth…and cannot come up with a fast enough answer for “But I thought the TOOTH FAIRY left the money!?!?!?”

-35          You do the same as above, about Santa Clause.



+25         The kids go to bed clean, no matter how they got that way.

+10         Real bath with warm water and tear-free shampoo.

+5           Water toys in the tub.

+15         BUBBLES!!!

+2           Water hose in the front yard (summertime ONLY).

Swimming in a Horse Tank

-500       Toddlers and babies in a tub without you in the room. L


Better Home and Garden:

+25         Everyone has clean clothes every day that come from the closet or dresser clean and folded or hung.

+10         Everyone has clean clothes that come from a laundry basket or dryer.

-15          Everyone runs around naked waiting for the wash cycle.

+50         There is NOTHING sticky on any surface in the home.

+25         The house is cluttered, but relatively presentable.

+10         When company comes over, a quick tossing of random things into a closet is required, but nothing major.

-15          There are trails to get from room to room.

-25          The last time you mopped was when your water broke on the kitchen floor.

-50          You strongly suspect that there are things growing in the fridge and under the couch.

-2            Pets drink from the toilet.

-25          Kids drink from the toilet.


The Bedtime Routine (or lack thereof):

+25         You read a bedtime story.

+25         Pajamas and sheets are always clean.

+5           The kids get to watch TV before bed.

-5            The TV is on all night.

-10          The baby sleeps in a dresser drawer or laundry basket.

-20          Pets sleep in the kids’ rooms.

-35          You don’t know if they went to bed yet or not.


Okay ladies, this is by NO means an all-encompassing list, just a few guidelines that you can customize to fit your own personal needs.

Good Luck!!!

Nope, I’m far from Perfect!

Posted: July 11, 2011 in Random Crap
Tags: , , ,

I am not perfect. Not even close. Here are just a few of the many reasons…

  • I eat cheeseburgers for breakfast and brew coffee at midnight.
  • I bitch about the coffee if it is cheap, because cheap coffee brewing smells like dirt.
  • I have eaten dirt.
  • I don’t eat green food except for pickles. I loathe green vegetables, and I am a hypocrite because I feed them to my children. I also don’t eat certain other foods because of texture.
  • I want to slap people who say “I have OCD” because they like their house clean or don’t like sticky fingers…I want to scream at them, “have you EVER cried because your husband might remarry if you run over someone and go to jail? Or thrown things because someone moved the purple Post-it that said ‘blue’? Or spent $40 in gas to go make sure you fed the cat?”
  • I have lost my sunglasses and cried…until I found them in my hair.
  • I fall upstairs. I run into walls. I have not gone a day in my life without some bruise or random scrape to prove my own ineptness at walking. However, I can jitterbug. Yes, I know there is no logic to this.
  • I love karaoke…and I am quite sure I cannot carry a tune in a bucket because I can’t even stand listening to my own voicemail messages.
  • I actually don’t have voicemail anymore, because I despise it…for no good reason whatsoever.
  • I would rather text you than call you, because talking on the phone usually involves awkward silence, awkward small talk, or dropped calls.
  • I live in Hicksville USA and I prefer rock music.
  • I like cats much better than dogs. Dogs are needy and demanding…that actually might give you more insight into my personality than just about anything else on this page.
  • I have tan lines.
  • I ate ice cream for lunch today.
  • My hair color changes according to my mood.
  • I have two tattoos, much to my mother’s everlasting horror, and a pierced tongue. I plan to add two more tattoos someday. Therefore the “tattooed white trash” bumper sticker would be quite accurate on my truck.
  • My favorite decoration of any kind in the world is the sticker on my truck of the Happy Hippie Bunny flashing a peace sign. It’s bright, annoyingly yellow.
  • If you are male, and you piss me off, I WILL change your ringtone in my phone to Dancing Queen.
  • My default ringtone is the Chipmunks singing Funky Town. My default notification is Alvin singing Bow Chicka Bow Wow.
  • I cannot do anything without music playing…if my soundtrack were to suddenly die, I would do a great impression of a slug being slowly killed by salt.
  • I pick at my cuticles and bite my nails until they bleed (another great OCD perk!).
  • I studied Psychology in college, and cannot help thinking that I could help a lot of people if I could randomly dole out anti-depressants and anti-psychotics to the people who annoy me. I am aware that the problem is probably mine. I don’t care.
  • I am possibly just a little anti-social.
  • If I like a song, I can listen to it on repeat for HOURS.
  • I dance around my house with my kids, singing at the top of our lungs, acting like circus freaks.
  • I have put colored streaks in my hair with a magic marker.
  • I hate wearing shoes that anyone else would consider “cute.” Cute shoes hurt like hell, and I don’t see the point in torturing your feet any more than absolutely necessary. I live in flip flops and Nikes.
  • I have started roughly 137 diaries in my life. I have reached the middle pages of exactly one. Most never get filled past the third page.
  • I am somewhat fascinated with blood, and I am a trauma-junkie. It bodes well as an EMT, but not so well in general conversation with weak-stomached people.
  • I was a saxophone-playing band geek in school with very few friends.
  • I am a book-worm with very few friends.
  • I might have very few friends because of the anti-social thing.
  • I am not a morning person and believe that hell is probably full of morning people.
  • I am not afraid of spiders, snakes, ghosts, vampires, demons, mice, or large animals with teeth. I am, however, deathly afraid of clowns and centipedes.
  • I have thrown burning cookies out a seven floor window and hoped for the best.
  • I have first-hand knowledge that doggie biscuits are not worth the $20 you can get from a friend for trying one.
  • I apparently cannot sustain a successful romantic relationship to save my life.
  • I don’t wear dresses for much the same reason I don’t wear cute shoes…and for the fact that most dresses look ridiculous with my Nikes.
  • I don’t wear sunscreen.
  • I have a passion for jet-black eyeliner and mascara.
  • My favorite song of all time is Paint it Black.
  • My favorite movie is either Pulp Fiction or the Boondock Saints.
  • I have horrible handwriting most of the time.

There are plenty more reasons, but many cannot be printed and viewed by the public (or the family members I know read this, actually)…and I am tired of typing now.

I recently had the great pleasure of experiencing the lovely traffic found on the streets of Lubbock on a Saturday afternoon. All the gloriously happy and considerate people working in harmony to get everyone where they needed to go with the utmost efficiency and care…


I needed a drink before I made it halfway around the loop. By the time I had navigated the transition from the loop onto the Interstate and back again via my FAVORITE kind of exit (the twirly ones that recommend a top speed of 15 in traffic averaging 87), several smaller streets, one alley, a Sonic drive thru, and a mall parking lot complete with rent-a-cops in golf carts, I needed more than a drink.

Actually, by then I would have welcomed an illegal substance dealer of any kind knocking on my window in the questionable neighborhood I was lost in.

The apartments and dorms of Lubbock must have been eerily quiet that day, because I am sure that the entire population of the city was out on the roads at their un-medicated or overly altered best. I am quite sure they were all stalking my poor countrified chevy…

My ultimate destination for the day was a Jackyl concert in the Depot District. Elbow to elbow with the tattooed and pierced rockers of Lubbock, singing the Secret of the Bottle at the top of our lungs, thinking that THESE people are so much friendlier than the ones out on the roads.

In fact, it is usually the tattooed, the bikers and truckers, the punks with Mohawks, and anyone with unnaturally streaked hair and heavy eyeliner who are the first to be kind to a stranger in need. Before you judge, find out who is behind the decoration…they might surprise you.

But I digress….as I have a tendency to do…

So anyway, traffic…

I encountered all the different kinds of drivers there are in a city like that…in one afternoon. It was actually quite a good learning experience. If you are ever conned into repeating my mistake on a weekend afternoon in the summer when all the crazies are out to play, here are some of the fellow drivers you should really watch out for…

Sunday Cruisers:

These people are out to see the sights, smell the smells, and annoy as many fellow motorists as possible. They weave gently from side to side within (somewhat) the confines of their lane, and turn their blinker on roughly a half mile from where they plan to actually turn.

Speed limits are irrelevant to Sunday Cruisers, as they rarely travel over about 35 mph. More than likely the car you’re following at a painfully tedious pace is an aged Buick…baby blue or beige. Station wagons with fake wood panels are also usually driven by a Sunday Cruiser.

Garage sales, fruit stands, children selling lemonade, and flea markets are valid excuses for drivers in this category to suddenly brake in the middle of the road with gleeful oblivion. For these, the turn signal is often a distant memory…and you will be lucky if their creeping ride has properly working brake lights.


Pappy is very nearly a Sunday cruiser, only the Buicks and station wagons are not popular here. A Ford or Chevy truck with more rust than paint is the giveaway in this category.

Instead of rarely driving faster than 35 mph, these drivers have a steady pace of 55 mph. Whether the speed limit is 15 or 75, urban or rural, these old pickup trucks have one constant pace, and they will not deviate.

They are often found congregating at Dairy Queens, discussing in minute detail the rainfall that Texas has experienced over the past 40 or 50 years.

Soccer Moms:

These women are found cruising the streets in minivans and obnoxiously large SUV’s, usually sporting small yellow window signs proclaiming “Baby on Board” or “My kid is an Honor Student.” For some reason, fake bullet holes are popular, as are stickers on the back windows with a name followed by a football, basketball, or cheerleader symbol. In fact, you can usually look at a soccer mom’s car and immediately know the names and gender of the children, the sports they play, the GPA of the older ones, and where they are bound for college.

Soccer Moms are actually pretty good drivers most of the time. They are typically courteous, obey traffic laws, and try to maintain the safety bubble of their “precious cargo” drooling and screeching in the backseat. They are determined to be a role model for all the young teenage drivers out there.

However, when a Soccer Mom’s driving goes bad, it goes very, very bad. These women are hyped up on lattes and metabolism pills and vitamin B…they are jumpy and will freak out about any sudden movements (or honks). There is also the chance you’ll happen to catch one at a red light about the same time a toddler tosses a Sippy cup across the car, resulting in a distracting hissy fit as Mom gropes around behind her, yells at the child, and tries to navigate to the pool at the same time.

Another hazard that Soccer Moms present to the driving world is that they will slam on the brakes for ANYthing that might decide to cross the road, whether that be a dog, cat, child, or field mouse. They are sometimes found on the road crying hysterically because they didn’t miss the sparrow that swooped across her path at the wrong moment. The best thing you can do for these women in this situation is offer to pick the feathers out of her grill.

GPS Gadget Guys:

These guys are possibly the most erratic and annoying out there. Until someone perfects the GPS navigational systems of the modern age, these well-meaning technologically obsessed individuals will follow the tinny voices in their dashboards into lake bottoms, ghost towns, and dead ends with relentless determination.

If a GPS unit suddenly decides the driver should “turn left,” he will…immediately and with no warning, sometimes from the far right lane. He is often so excited about the sudden change of direction that a turn signal is the last thing on his mind.

GPS Gadget Guys are often found sitting at a busy intersection, oblivious to the four cycles of green lights that have passed and the impatient honking of those around him, while he pushes buttons on his GPS or waits for the machine to “recalculate.”

Unfortunately, there really isn’t a specific “type” of car these guys are found driving…anything built after 2003 seems to be fair game.

Corporate Asses Who OWN the Roads:

Ugh…my least favorite. These are the guys who think they are God’s gift to women and the rest of the world. They hate animals, “lesser” people, and imperfections in people. They have no patience for the small flaws that make us all human, and are rude to the doormen, maids, and grocery store clerks who cross into their privileged lives.

These guys drive BMW’s, Mercedes, and the occasional Lexus…some of the more insufferable will be spotted in a Hummer or a lifted 4×4 that’s never seen mud, because they think somehow it makes us all think they have a bigger…ahem, never mind.

The “Asses” are aggressive drivers that will cut you off, then flip you off for daring to be in their way. They are usually found with a cell phone surgically attached to their ear, and everything in their car is shiny, loud, or expensive.

Watch for vanity license plates that read: “GR8!!”  “HOT STUF”  “STUD MFN”  “LADYS MN”  or  “BG DADY”

Student Drivers:

By student drivers, I am not just referring to the actual students in the school owned sedans with “Student Driver” emblazoned in red across the entire vehicle. These are actually very safe…they will be creeping along with their knowledgeable teacher in the passenger seat, obeying EVERY law to the letter, trying desperately to drive perfectly. Not really dangerous.

No, the student drivers to worry about are the ones who just passed their tests and are carrying their shiny new driver’s license in their wallets like a medal of honor. These are the kids with daddy’s insurance, momma’s car, and the undeniable taste of freedom.

These young drivers don’t mean to be a menace, but they freeze up at the slightest thing, park crooked in parking lots, and cannot parallel park to save their lives. They will turn on the blinker a mile before turning, and are often found parked on the side of the road, wide-eyed or sobbing with fear.

Daddy’s Little Princesses:

Ohhhhh, but these girls are highly entertaining. They go into hysterics that provide endless amusement when you catch them outside their 16th birthday convertibles and SUV’s. Their cars are usually pink or red, and covered in cutesy bumper stickers that say “Daddy’s Girl” or “Princess.” Vanity license plates in the same taste are common.

One of the problems these girls have when driving is that they often have so much crap hanging from the rearview mirror that they have blocked out a third of their view of what’s in front of them. They also tend to attempt the fine art of simultaneously driving, texting, and applying mascara.

These girls don’t react well to being honked at, they will startle and immediately drive off the shoulder, slam on the brakes, and sob hysterically.


Well, I am quite sure I have left out plenty of driver’s from this list, but these are the most dangerous. They are the ones who have made me swear off going back to Lubbock anytime soon on a weekend or during rush hour. I will stick to my small town full of nothing but Sunday Cruisers. They’re just as annoying here, but they are predictable, as they travel the same routes at the same time and same speed every day.



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