Kibitz ‘n Bits

posted by Brandy on Dec 29

‘Twas 3 nights before Christmas and I cracked my elbow and broke my ass and here is how it all started….

It was a Thursday night and we were in the midst of a huge snowstorm in Utah.  The deer were out and scouring my yard in search of apples or remnants of a salt lick from days past.  A few hours earlier, I had stopped at the neighborhood grocery store and stocked up on carrots and knobby, maroon colored apples as I knew, if you build it, or rather, if you stockpile it, they (the deer) will come. 

And they did….

At 6:03 pm, I glanced out my living room window to see “Momma”deer and her two does.  I ecstaticly ran to the fridge, loaded my arms up with carrots and headed out my front door where I stopped and briefly waved a carrot.  The deer looked at me with curiosity, and with their ears protruded towards me , seemed to take an interest in what I was waiving overhead. 

I slowly stepped forward, nearing the top of my two-stepped porch, believing that the deer may actually come in close for a bite.  Inch by slow, painful inch, I advanced, all the while, waving the carrot. 

But then “Momma”, suddenly consumed with fear of the strange figure moving closer and erratically waving an orange stick, started to bolt and behind her trailed her two does. 

Me, while not thinking (surprise, surprise) darted out after her, with an armful of carrots in tow, stepped on the top edge of my front porch, slipped on the ice covered step and landed abruptly on my left elbow and ass!  

Stunned at first, I then bellowed for my husband, like a wounded cow who has been struck on the highway, still alive but nearing death and gurgling its last guttural moans. 

Dave arrived to see an image of me, his once lovely and feminine wife, now laying sprawled unattractively in the icy snow.  Carrots dotted the pavement around me and the vocalization of pain sputtered from my mouth. 

As Dave tried to scoop me (and my fat ass) up from the ground, I pleaded that he let me stay lying breathless in the snow.  Apparently, he now argues that I was claiming to be paralyzed while flailing my arms and legs all about so he felt that he needed to get me calm, to the couch and most importantly, medicated with a nice glass of Chardonnay……probably to shut me up. 

The next morning, I awoke to a severely swollen left elbow and a hematoma on my left ass cheek so large that it would put Texas to shame. 

I traveled to the urgent care medical clinic and learned that I had fractured my elbow and broke my tailbone along with the grossly enlarged hematoma (the bruise, not my ass this time) that, per the on-call physician, SHOULD be drained, but given the fact that I am frightened of needles, (and admittedly, somewhat frightened of the doctors that practice out of these so-called “Doc in a Box” clinics) I implored for mercy to not stick anything into my ass and to not bother draining it.  Seriously…….if you think I was going to let someone stick a needle into my left ass cheek to drain blood out of it, you can think again!   

The doctor reluctantly agreed not to drain my ass and sent me home with my arm in a sling, a donut for my ass and a prescription for 12 Darvocet (which are now all gone, by the way). 

So, here I am, writing this blog, sitting on only half an ass (I won’t use the donut – they are ONLY for eating and not for sitting) and trying to type accurately with only one hand…….so forgive me for any typos…………..

And, as we are now rounding the corner into a new year, this time, I venture into it with a body that is 10 years older than it was last week. 

(raising my glass to toast……)  To the deer!

posted by Brandy on Dec 19

It all started when “Grandma” (my mom) called and asked if Dave and I had a combination VCR/DVD player that she could borrow. We told her, “No” and, now in a state of confusion, hung up the telephone and pondered as to why she would ask. Then it hit me. Upon moving into her new house, she disconnected the VCR in favor of a new DVD player. The fact that she wants retro technology (such as said VCR), can mean only one thing. Grandma misses her porn!

Let me explain, years back, when Dave and I eloped in Las Vegas, we *hit* the local porn store and loaded up on tons of video “gems” that we could smuggle back into Utah, safely hidden within our luggage. In doing this, we also snagged a VHS video of John Holmes, one of the country’s most famous porn star, as a gift to my mom, who has been a single parent for over three decades.

The tape was well received (I imagine, but didn’t inquire as to any details…..) but with the explosion of the DVD era and the demise of video tape, I envisioned that Mr. Holmes (a.k.a., Long Dong John….) was forever entombed in his bed of rectangular cardboard, neatly tucked away and never seen again.

Until now…….

Dave and I found a great website that ships a variety of porn anywhere in the United States. They have all sorts of juicy (and yes, somewhat frightening stuff) that includes anal, lesbo, MILF, midget, transgendered and quadruple penetration (okay……this one we purchased for ourselves in hopes of discovering something new such as WHERE IS THE fourth goddamn hole???).

A few of them (mostly just mellow hetero stuff,) are now en route to our house in hopes that they arrive in time for Christmas delivery to Grandma.

posted by Brandy on Nov 28

For those of you on a hunt for holiday decorations (namely Christmas, but I did not want to offend anyone….oh, what the hell……) for those of you on a massive hunt for FUCKING CHRISTMAS decorations……DO NOT BUY THEM FROM WALMART!!!

Now, I can visualize all of you anti-Walmart shopping Nazis cheering with glee as you read this but it is not what you think. I do shop at Walmart. In fact, I shop their all the time! But I have recently learned that buying cheap Christmas decorations such as lighted reindeer, a life-sized Frosty the Snowman and box-shaped presents that glow in multi-colored neon and automatically open and shut, open and shut, and open and shut……is NOT a very good idea! Yeah, Dave and I were on the hunt! Purse tucked under arm, two screaming children packed tightly in the basket and wallet snugly packed in back pocket. We were on a mission and we were headed to the “Christmas” section of the store and were not leaving until we had loaded up the cart with decorations that included TWO reindeer, FROSTY and some lighted boxes.

Everything seemed fine, until we arrived at home. Dave piled on the snow gear while I fixed us a cocktail. Yes, it was only 11:00 am on a Saturday morning, but goddammit, we had a yard to decorate. We downed the cocktail (and added one extra shot of Southern Comfort to boot!) and headed out! The two reindeer were first. We set them up, got them positioned in just the right spot, above the waterfall and staked them into the ground. They were draped with white lights and, when activated, one head moved up/down and the other one, with antlers moved side to side. It was nice….. Frosty (the fucker) came next. What we failed to realize is that Frosty is six feet tall and is assembled in four different parts: bottom, middle, head and hat. We threw him together, piece by friggin piece, slapped on the tie fasteners, staggered the lighted boxes on the ground next to him and anxiously waited for night fall. When darkness settled in, the four of us (me, dave, paris and phoenix) ventured outside and activated the lights. At first, we felt like the Griswold’s (the movie Vacation, with Chevy Chase) with Clark (a.k.a. Dave) in all his glory as the lights streamed on. Then, I REALLY felt like Ellen Griswold as I looked, in horror, as half of the Reindeer lights were dead, Frosty’s fucking right arm was twitching as if he had Tourette’s syndrome and one of the boxes had a broken hinge so instead of opening and closing, it jerked and made a horrible humming sound. Dave relentlessly plucked light after light after light out of the reindeer to see which one was dead…..you know, IF ONE GOES OUT, THEY ALL GO OUT!!! AAAARRRRGGGHHHH He then gave up and moved to Frosty where he tried to controlling the obnoxious arm tics with more ties. This, in turn, stopped the twitching arm but resulted in a full body convulsion. The arm was now motionless but the rest of Frosty’s fucking body looked like he was in the midst of performing the ABS OF STEEL exercise routine.

Dave grunted and as he glanced down at the “broken” Christmas box, he looked at me and said, “Fuck it, let’s go have a drink!”

posted by Brandy on Nov 7

My sister and her girlfriend had a Halloween party recently where everyone was required to come in costume. In the spirit, Dave and I dressed up as “Brad and Angelina”, and with four dolls in tow (one white and the other three black) we ventured over to the soirée.

The evening started off with some singing on the “Scary-oke” machine and of course, excess amounts of wine, whiskey and rum, all the while staring at the stream of costume clad people flowing in.

Then she appeared. A husky woman, with streaks of gray winding through her coal black hair. She was wearing gold bands that were hugging her wrists, shiny blue briefs speckled with stars, a satin red top that revealed aged bosoms and a gold tiara type headband. She was dressed as Wonder Woman.

…but not the Wonder Woman we all remember from our younger days with Lynda Carter, but rather an aged Wonder Woman, with sagging skin, bulging hips, jelly belly and a years supply of junk in her trunk.

Given that I had been chugging wine and was now belting out a horrible rendition of Hotel California on the karaoke machine, I glance over, see Wonder Woman saunter into the party and I blurt out (on the microphone, mind you), “Hey everyone, check it out! It’s OLD, FAT WONDER WOMAN! What a GREAT costume! That’s Hilarious. I mean LOOK at her!!!

The music seemed to immediately stop! I swear I heard the screeching of a record player needle scratch its way across an old LP. Then the room became quiet. “Old Fat Wonder Woman” looked at me with shock and disgust then “matter of factly” stated that she didn’t intend to dress up as Old, Fat Wonder Woman, but rather JUST Wonder Woman.

Apparently her gray streaked hair is natural and since her carefree days of youth are long gone, she has put on a “little” weight.

Damn me and my mouth. I politely apologized for the rude assumption and, as any wild party-goer would do, I blamed my verbal indiscretion on the wine (and the whiskey and the rum)…

I meandered away from the microphone to the food table in hopes that I would blend into the wall. Trying to hide from the crowd, I felt a tap on my shoulder and a bitter voice behind me asking, “SO, what are YOU dressed up ass??? Old Fat Angelina?”

I didn’t have to turn around to realize that it was the portly amazon. The bitch…