Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Gladys Has Coxiellosis of the Blowhole

I’ll admit it; I’m a little bit neurotic with a touch of paranoia added to a scosh of hypochondria. Now I know that is hard for those who know me to believe but it’s true. I like to think of it as having symptom empathy for my fellow medically challenged humans, oh and animals too.


You see I have always been a little, as my Granddad would say, puny. In my defense, when my fellow 1st graders filed out into the play yard I was the runt. They were all robust healthy 6 year olds and I was half their size, pale, skinny, buck teethed and big eared. It continued to be that way my whole school years. Why even my first day of junior high school gym class Coach Perris thought I was lost and thought I was some elementary school kid dropped off at the wrong school.

Just the fact that I was small and thin made other’s think that I was unhealthy. I would hear things like “oh, my! Are you alright? Can I get you some water, a doctor or perhaps a pint of 0 negative?” I of course would begin to believe that I was dying of some mysterious illness. It didn’t help that I was highly impressionable and imaginative also my mother was a nurse and I had access to medical journals. A typical morning before school would go something like this:

Momma, I’m sick and can’t go to school today.

Really Gladys? What is wrong now?

Well, I have green snot coming out of my nose and my head hurts. Oh and I have a tingling on my tongue.

Oh really? Well maybe you just need to blow your nose and get dressed.

Oh NO! I think I have coxiellosis of the blowhole and that is terribly contagious.

You have what? You don’t have a blowhole. That is a disease a whale would get. Whales have blowholes.

Well, I did read Moby Dick last week.

I would have multiple days of multiple symptoms of deadly diseases to which Nurse Meme would always answer “pull up your big girl panties and go school.”

I tell you all of this to tell you I am convinced I have a brain eating amoeba. I know this because I use a netti pot. I use a netti pot and I have been using tap water.


I know this because I use a netti pot with tap water and I read this article yesterday, Amoeba Netti Pots Prove Deadly. See now you are wondering if you have a brain eating amoeba too aren’t you?



Sunday, November 27, 2011

Gladys Reelz in Reality


Lately for some unknown reason I have been watching more television than normal. Maybe it’s the fact that the sun sets at noon or perhaps it is because I need the distraction. I don’t really have a good excuse I just am. I do have to say that my choice of television fare has been a little, unique.



I am usually a Turner Classic Movie kind of girl. Oh you know what I’m saying I watch Father’s Little Dividend or It Happened One Night even though I’ve seen them a bazillion times and can recite the dialogue line for line. Lately, though, I have been indulging in the equivalent of television fast food.

I am addicted to watching the gold mining, ice road driving, crab fishing, oil drilling, hog hunting, alligator wrestling, dirty job working heroes that are all over Discover, History Channel and A & E. Not to mention those guys out in Vegas buying our treasures, the two guys who dig through barns and of course we can’t leave out Rick who rebuilds it all. Oh don’t think I’ve forgotten the Storage Bin Bidders, YUUUUUUUP, I watch them too.


I know what Chum Lee bought and where Mike and Frank found that really cool whirly gig.

I do have favorites and feel especially sad when their season ends. I look forward to watching Jack, Todd and the Alaska Gold Rush gang run around totally clueless trying to extract that precious metal from the frozen tundra only to be foiled again. I mark my calendar to remind me when Troy, Elizabeth and the crew will be in the swamps of Louisiana. I do have to admit they also can be very frustrating.

Who doesn’t want to remove that wad of snot from Jack’s throat on Gold Rush so that he doesn’t have to talk through his nose? Oh and I want to just tell everyone that as a native Texan I do not need subtitles when I talk to people. Honestly, Mr. Campbell from American Hoggers can you not remove that wad of Redman so we can understand what you are saying.


This does not even include my biggest question are these people really this stupid? Do they not plan things out? Do they not research and get advice before venturing off into the wilds of Alaska or sail off into the frozen seas? I sit and yell instructions at the television as if Hugh and Rick can hear me yelling that the ice on the lake is too thin don’t chance it or for Frank and Mike to look in the corner of the old warehouse because there is a Sinclair Sign in perfect condition.

Yes this is how I spend my days and nights checking in on my favorite REAL Reality Stars. I don’t know who this Snookie person is or why there is a Situation. I don’t really care what the Kardashian family is up to or who is in celebrity rehab. I want to know if the Pawn Stars guys bought a deal or a dud. I want to watch Barry and Jarrod stick it to Dave, Yuuuup.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Francis, A Tribute



When the phone rang I almost didn’t answer it. I saw Trooper Bob’s name on the caller i.d. but I knew this time it wouldn’t be one of our normal calls. It was the news that was inevitable but not at all what I wanted to hear.


You see with that call I knew she was gone. I knew that that part of my heart was going to have to break and that I would have to be an adult and accept the fact that she had gone to the big swimming hole in the sky.

Most of my memories of her are around water. She, being one of the greatest ladies I’ve ever known, loved the water. Even though she couldn’t swim she would shimmy into her swimsuit and strap on her life-vest. She would grab my little hand and bellow her boisterous laugh “come on Gladys let’s get wet!” Off she would run with me down to the lake not to be confused with a tank and make a big splash. She would grab me and her youngest son, John-John, and drag us down to the water to splash and float and play. Encouraging us to explore and be brave.

My earliest memory of her involved a hot summer day and nectar served in a glass jar. I think I may have been three or maybe four when she offered me a mason jar full of a golden substance that tasted nothing like anything I had before. Nurse Meme made sweet tea, but hers did not taste like the cold liquid gold she poured. I was convinced it was the jar that made the tea taste so good. She laughed and told me of course it was all the while smiling out the window admiring her water softener.

Mostly I remember the freedom of her home. I remember sitting cutting out flowers and horses in the middle of her living room creating a mess that would have never been allowed in my own home. She urged creativity, she encouraged imagination and she didn’t mind the mess it made. Her words were encouraging and uplifting and when you needed to be brought to reality she did it with love and compassion.

She was my family, my kin, a part of my heart. She would wrap you in a hug that would make your sadness disappear and make you laugh until your face hurt. She will forever be in my memories and my blood. She was my Aunt Francis and I will miss her dearly and remember her fondly, yet somehow I know she will always be with me. I will forever hear that full-bodied belly laugh and feel her joy in my heart.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.









Friday, November 11, 2011

It's Been Awhile

The text conversation went something like this.




Gladys: What are you wearing tonight? I’m trying to figure out how to transition from wedding to club

Lola: Me too. I’m starting out in plain black dress right now.

Gladys: Well, I’m behind the camera so I’m not sure how dressed up I’ll be.

Silence, for a very long period of time.

Gladys: You still haven’t told me what to wear to the hip disco.

Lola: Wear whatever you want. I’m probably just going to wear my black dress.

Gladys: So I take it by my lingo you can’t tell I haven’t been to a night club in a while. Do they still do the Hustle?

Silence



Anyone have a jumpsuit and some platform shoes I can borrow?

Friday, November 4, 2011

Gladys Got Hope

Gladys looked at herself in the mirror one last time not actually knowing what a golf cart driver should look like but she was as close as she was going to get. She straightened her pink Izod polo shirt, smoothed her golf skirt and tied her sweater around her neck as she headed out the door.


Her mentor and employer had requested that she, Gladys P. McGuillicutty, escort the celebrity guest through the celebrity golf tournament. He had entrusted her with the auspicious duty of escorted one of her all time favorite and most revered movie stars around the golf course.

She pointed her little sports car towards the country club so nervous she shifted into second gear twice. She slowed at the entrance and read the banner “Celebrity Golf Tournament” along with a list of minor celebrities and then in large letters the name of THE celebrity. Her heart pounded just thinking she was actually going to meet one of her idols.

She drove up the tree lined lane breathing in the smells of early spring and admiring the finely manicured lawn. She arrived at the stately columned building and checked her make-up in the mirror. Smiling she handed her keys to the valet and grabbed her tote-bag full of goodies. “Where are the golf tournament people meeting” she asked as she skipped up the steps to the main building.

The valet stopped just as he was about to squeeze himself into the small cockpit of the car. “Are you a golfer or a helper?”

“Oh, I’m supposed to escort the main celebrity around the golf course” she said with importance.

The young man smiled a knowing smile “oh….well, in that case you need to go around to the back and they will have a VIP cart for you.”

Gladys took a deep breath said her thank you’s and ran back down the steps to the back of the main building. She heard some mumblings and as she got closer saw a group of young people in khaki pants and green jackets. Gladys looked down at her white golf skirt and fidgeted a little.

“Hi, I’m here to, um…” she stopped when she realized all the green coats turned to stare. She started again “I’m here to um, drive for um…”

“Oh, you must be Gladys, yes I have your name right here. You are to take the Rolls cart. You do know how to drive a cart don’t you?”

She cleared her throat “of course. I mean I guess so, it’s just like a car right?”

A few chuckles ran through the crowd and the man with the clip board walked toward Gladys “I’ll show you where the Rolls is parked.” He put his hand on her shoulder and maneuvered her toward a small building with garage doors. As he rolled up the door he quietly said “you put your foot on the accelerator to go and take it off to stop. It’s electric so just go slow and you will be fine.” The sun caught the front of a small vehicle designed to look like a Silver Cloud Rolls Royce.

Her breath caught in her throat as he walked up to the vehicle. She would be spending all day with one of her favorite celebrities in this carriage. It would be just the two of them alone together. She placed the bag in cart and looked at the man with the clipboard. “Where do I go now?”

The man looked at his paperwork and then back at Gladys “they didn’t tell you that you were supposed to dress in Khaki did they? I guess it’s ok just make sure you wear your name tag” as he handed her a sticker with Gladass printed on it.

She didn’t care, she was just so excited. She climbed into the driver’s seat and tried to familiarize herself with the cart. She stomped her foot down on the pedal as the little vehicle lurched forward with force knocking Mr. Clipboard off to the side. Instinctively she took her foot off the pedal and the cart came to a halt.



“Well it looks like you have the gist of it. So now go round front and pick up your guest. You will then need to proceed to the first tee.” He limped off cursing and mumbling.

She gently pushed down on the accelerator and maneuvered the red Rolls around the main building and up to the front door where the covey of dignitaries were gathered. She tried to slowly roll up to the group but jerkily stopped and started until she inched her way forward.

Then she saw him standing in the center of the crowd. He was unmistakable. His profile was like none other. Her heart skipped a beat. There he stood wearing plaid knickers, a bright yellow sweater and a cap with a tassel on top. He turned and their eyes met. He smiled his classic smile and started down the steps toward the cart. She jumped from the cart and ran around to grab his bag only it was bigger and heavier than she. He stopped and said “Oh no I’ll carry this…” then he leaned toward her, so close she could smell his shampoo “Glad-ass?”

That was how Gladys met the one and only Bob Hope.



Thursday, September 29, 2011

Her Not So Storybook Life - The Book

Twitter oh how I love you, let me count the ways in 140 characters. No really I love twitter. I don’ know why, I just do. So today I get a tweet from Mabel’s House.


Okay, so I didn’t know who Mabel was before today or that she even had a house. Today however not only was I introduced to her but I was invited to read an excerpt of her new book. I was so excited I almost peed myself. Which I guess if you think about it is a lot better than peeing someone else. I digress.

So I read the clip from My (not so) Storybook Life by Elizabeth Owen. I loved it. I lived it. No really I lived the same situation she wrote about. I was there with her holding my breath, praying for fresh air and trying to keep the poopacalypse from seeping into every aspect of my being.

Ms Owen did a wonderful job and I can’t wait to read the rest of her not so Storybook life as soon as it is available. You need to too.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Found Day

Not to seem ungrateful to all of you who have sent me birthday wishes but I feel compelled to correct you. Today is my “found” day. You see I was not born but instead my family unit found me under a rock many many years ago.  No really go read about it here.  I'll wait.  http://gladysspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/01/found-under-rock.html


Now you may recall from my earlier post about it that I might have been left by a circus that not-so-accidently moved on without me. This theory has long been Matilda’s explanation of my coming to reside with her family. You see for her it was the only way to confirm my enormous Dumbo like ears, brillo pad hair and my buck teeth.


Her theory lies in that I was in fact the love child of two circus freak performers and as such I was so hideous that even they didn’t want me. Trooper Bob and Nurse Meme being the giving loving people they were overlooked my hideousness and instead graciously took me into their home.


Matilda believed that they had in fact done this so that she would have someone to whom she could hand over her chores. Thus giving her more time in which she could separate her eyelashes and stroke her beautiful Marsha Brady hair.

Buck on the other hand was convinced that I had been left by an alien space craft which had unfortunately crashed upon the site. The alien baby seeking shelter crawled under the rock because it was similar to the conditions of its home planet.

In his theory there was a meteor which hurdled toward the earth burning and turning. It hit the earth’s atmosphere and much like Superman the meteoric like craft came crashing into an open expanse of desert. He tried to prove this theory by using me as his private laboratory specimen. I of course have had a fear of being struck by meteor’s my whole life not to mention I won’t go near kryptonite. Unfortunately the only “super” power I can report to is the ability to talk a person to death.

No really I can. I truly believe one of the reasons I have never been taken hostage is because terrorist take one look at me and say “No Fred, don’t take her. She will kill us with her words. Too many words.” Then like Dick Van Patton in High Anxiety they would be found dead on the ground with blood oozing from their orifices. I digress.



I believe I was explaining to you all that while “birth day” is appropriate for most normal humans, it does not relate to me. You see I am not a normal human. I am in fact the girl who was found under the rock. The anomaly, the mystery, the enigma of a being who never seemed to fit. I tried to talk like everyone else, walk like everyone else and even dress like everyone else. When Matilda got Farah Fawcett hair, I immediately went out and tried to replicate that but instead looked more like Gilda Radnor’s rendition of Roseanne RoseannaDanna.


When Buck excelled in math and science I too tried to understand the Pythagorean theorem but mistakenly understood that it had something to do with Pythons and I’m deathly afraid of snakes.

The whole point of this is to tell you thank you for celebrating my Found Day with me. You see every year on my Found Day I look in the mirror and celebrate the fact that I am. I don’t care that I was found under a rock. With each year I progress and learn to love my Dumbo ears and my Melissa Gilbert overbite.

Each year I age I accept the fact that I’m never going to be Stephen Hawking or Albert Einstein. I instead take the day of my Finding to celebrate me.

So are your ears bleeding yet?

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Winter's In Bloom


A couple of months ago Simon and Shuster sent me a request to review a book. I’ve been unusually busy lolling about and being lazy and really hadn’t given it another thought. One day last week Kahuna looked at me with that look in his eye and whispered those loving words in my ear “Surf’s up!” I of course instantly grabbed my beach bag and bikini, yes I still wear a bikini it may not be pretty but I still wear one, and headed out the door. I did pause long enough to grab The Winter’s in Bloom by Lisa Tucker.


I read this story with the waves crashing and the sea gulls squalling but was oblivious to anything but Ms. Tucker’s story of a young woman’s strife and life as an abandoned child.

The story begins with a young over protected boy and the world in which he lives with two highly smothering parents. Michael, the boy, relates his world of making sure he made his parents feel safe about him being safe, but was he safe? He was beginning to believe he had made a huge mistake going with the nice lady.

The story winds and twists telling each character’s insecurities, feelings of guilt and reaction to the little boy whose has mysteriously gone missing. Each person has their suspicion as to who has taken him. Each character then must deal with the skeletons in their respective closets and try and figure out how they and their past played a part in Michael’s disappearance.

I loved this book because it is much more than a mystery it also gives us a glimpse of what many in our society wrestle with every day. We all have feelings of abandonment and loneliness. Ms Tucker really delves into how it affects her characters and the fears we create because of those feelings. It made me stop and think about how many of my fears are based on my perception of events and not on truths.

Ms. Tucker kept me turning pages and wanting to know how this family could and would work through this horrific event. She did so beautifully with the right tempo and beat only revealing the facts as they were needed.

I recommend The Winter’s in Bloom by Lisa Tucker which is scheduled for release on September 13, 2011. Download it on your Nook, Kindle or Ipad or go all wild and old school and pick up the hard copy at your local bookstore. You will be glad you did.



Monday, August 8, 2011

Bridge Over Troubled Waters

I’ve been absent but I have a doctor’s excuse. What do you mean that Witch Doctor’s don’t count? I think he counts. I believe everything he tells me otherwise I might end up a shrunken head.


Why is it always heads why don’t they shrink butts? Now that would be a VERY successful Witch Doctor, especially in L.A. No I haven’t been sick, just off. I can’t explain it other than life has been getting in the way of my writing. I had a little time and thought I would check in on my friends over at Theme Thursday and guess what? This week’s theme is Bridges. Wouldn’t you know, I just happen to have a story about a bridge.



Gladys held on to the steering wheel tightly as she drove over the bridge. She tried to concentrate on just what was in front of her but her eyes kept being pulled to the guard rail. She had to know, she had to see, it was an obsession, a sickness of sorts. The car drifted toward the edge, as she slowed on the crest of bridge she craned her neck toward the precipice and tried to look past the concrete barrier and tall railing.

Cars blared their horns behind her and she thought she might have heard a explitive or two but she just couldn’t force herself to go any faster or even for that matter drive at all. She was frozen in time and place as she took in the depth and breadth of the sight just over the edge. Her stomach knotted and her breath came quick as she peered at the sparkling ocean far below her.

Honk, honk, bleeeeeeeep came from her fellow motorist shaking her from her state of catatonia. She looked down and realized the little blue hatchback had slowed to 10 miles per hour. She looked in her rear view mirror and saw a man exiting his vehicle and heading her way. Why was he walking? Why was he headed toward her car?

Gladys looked around and realized everyone on the bridge was looking at her. The opposing lanes were even slowing down and starring at her. She tried to down shift the little Hyundai Excel into 2nd gear but it bogged down and sputtered and died. She began rolling backwards down the steep incline of the bridge.

She jammed on the brakes and tried to get the little car going in the right direction. She knew how to drive a stick shift and wasn’t intimidated by hills but this was different. She ground the transmission into first gear and hit the starter. The little car sputter to life and jumped forward coughed and died.

Gladys sucked in a deep breath and tried again. The little car’s engine revved as she gave it all the gas she could as she tried to ease out on the clutch and move on over the bridge, but the water kept distracting her causing her to pop the clutch and die. Finally she caught the gear and moved on up the bridge to begin the descent into Coronado just in time to hear on the radio that a stalled car on the Coronado Bridge had caused a traffic jam all the way up the 5 freeway.

Gladys smiled as she eased onto Coronado Island. All of that because she never crosses a bridge that she because doesn’t look to see if there is water underneath.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Soul Sucker

Gladys sat in the feel good place listening to the sounds of the beauty around her. She sat peaceful, safe and happy in this place just as it was meant to be. The angel woman fluttered in and floated out of the space delivering unto those who visited love and beauty. She watched as one by one they came from the feel good place glowing and shining.


Gladys sat listening to the conversation between the two women. She watched as one woman wailed and the other listened patiently. Gladys looked up from her notes and noticed something odd about the wailing woman. She was black. Not African American or even covered in soot, there was a blackness surrounding her. Gladys automatically thought of the Charles Schultz character PigPen and how when he walked he brought this cloud of dirt with him. That is how this woman was, a cloud of blackness.

Gladys had always heard how others could clearly see auras and energy. It wasn’t that she wasn’t capable or didn’t believe but she had just never experienced one so pronounced. This was the thickest darkest aura she had experienced and it was overbearing.

She cried and wailed as the angel with the open heart listened and consoled. Gladys watched the scene play out and felt ever more constricted. The wailing woman continued with her plight of woe, something about money and shut of utilities, as she talked the ominous black cloud around her thickened and swirled filling up the space consuming all the air.

Gladys felt herself gasping for air as her chest compressed with the weight of the blackness. She felt the hair on her neck start to rise and the need to run was great within her. She watched as the two women walked from the room. The oppression lessened as the dark cloud moved away from her. Gladys wanted to run after the angel woman and rescue her but knew that there was nothing she could do to save her from the soul sucker. Gladys pulled within herself and felt her shoulders draw in.

Gladys waited in guarded anticipation, knowing that soon the soul sucker would again emerge from the depths of the feel good place. She hoped the soul sucker had not robbed the peace and tranquility from the feel good place but knew that it would not be the same until the black energy was gone and the space was cleansed. It made her sad and she decided to make sure before anyone else entered the space she would cleanse it. She took a deep breath and tasted the vile aroma of the darkness she left in her wake. Yes, she would cleanse this space.

The angel appeared with the soul sucker and brought her in front of Gladys. The soul sucker then turned toward Gladys and began spewing and spitting her darkness. Gladys pulled into herself and protected her heart from the darkness. She watched as the angel guided the soul sucker from the room and guided her out the door. The soul sucker wailing and keening left the feel good place.

Only after the soul sucker left and the angel returned was Gladys able to rid herself and that of the angel of the caliginous.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

This Shark Swallow You Whole


The waves crashed into the shore under a beautiful blue sky, the salt air sprayed gently on their faces as they settled in for a relaxing day on the beach. Then out of the mist came the monster (cue music from Jaws) …..the land shark was on the move and parked right next to them. Then she spent the whole day talking non-stop and ruining the peace and quiet of the day.


Kahuna and I packed up our towels and slathered on our sun screen and headed out to the beach last week. I spent the day trying to read a book but instead ended up eavesdropping instead.

Overheard on the beach… “Oh I would get a part time job but I can’t, they would take away my unemployment and disability check. ” and we wonder why we have trillions in debt.



Overheard on the beach…Dad to son “keep trying to surf and maybe you will actually be better at something than your brother.” Gee Dad way to instill self-worth and confidence.



Overheard on the beach man to wife “you know this beach was voted dirtiest in the Country.” Wife to husband “only because you come here.”





Overheard on beach: Old surfer to young one “we were going to call and tell you we were coming but we didn’t want you to come.” UH?



Overheard on the Beach: 40’ish man to young surfer “My electricity got shut off yesterday, my mom said I had to get a job cause she wasn’t going to pay it anymore.” Young surfer to 40’ish man “bummer, I hope my mom doesn’t do that.” Wow both these guys sound like dating material.


And so ends another episode of Overheard on the beach.  Gotta go now, I have my towel and my bag...you never know it might be Gladys sitting beside you on the beach pretending to read War and Peace.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Centuries Of June


A couple of weeks ago I was contacted by Crown Publishers to review Centuries of June by Keith Donohue. Although Mr. Donohue has published two other novels, The Stolen Child and Angels of Destruction, I was not familiar with him. I am always thrilled and excited to read new authors so I readily accepted.


It is difficult in this age of instant gratification and self publishing to find original and intriguing stories. You know how it is you pick up a book and start reading an instantly know you have read this story before except instead of Miami it was set in Milan and instead of the protagonist being Joe its Juan. Oh honestly I don’t blame the authors, especially if they are avid readers, it’s just a natural progress to begin incorporating other stories within your own. Not so with this story. He did incorporate other stories but he made them his own by entwining them into his own tale.

I began reading Centuries of June by Keith Donohue and immediately the movie began playing in my mind. I love it when an author can create a story so vivid I loose all sense of space and time and this is exactly what Mr. Donohue accomplished I had instantly cast each player as they appeared and I could see in my mind’s eye the whole scene play out.

A young man struck in the head and the 7 women who visit him through his stupefied state. The old man who protected and helped him through the journeys of his mind and who and what was he really? Each visit opened more questions with little resolve, each ghostly and beautiful visitor adding to the mystery as well as the question as to why our main character was bludgeoned in his own bathroom. The more you read the more you try to decipher who the old man is and why is he there, why are these women all trying to kill our poor architect and who is the woman asleep in the bed facing the wall.

Mr. Donohue’s writing style kept me turning the page and his story kept me enthralled. His dark humor and storytelling abilities kept me on the edge of my seat waiting for the punch-line. He took me into that cold tiled bathroom and then carried me from primeval forests of the pacific northwest through the gold rush and on into the early 20th century reminding me of the pain and suffering women have lived through to give me the freedoms I have today. More importantly he told the story of the man’s own insecurity and strife.

I thoroughly enjoyed my romp through the centuries with Mr. Donohue and his rough and primal ghosts. I highly recommend this to those with an adventurous spirit and an open mind.  Oh and I have taken to looking behind me when I enter the bath. 

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Lola's Special Purpose


Lola was bee-bopping to the radio when out of the blue they ran a contest to win tickets to go see Patti Stanger. Lola stopped what she was doing, picked up the phone and called. The contest gods were on her side and she was the 10th caller.

When Lola asked me if I wanted to go to see Patti Stanger with her the first thought in my head was “Why do I need a Millionaire Matchmaker?” Then the rational side of my brain took over and I thought “it’s not about YOU numbskull!” So I opened my mouth and out fell “Well of course.” Lola follows her heart and who am I to question that? I was honored that she asked me to attend this little soiree’ with her and figured whatever was supposed to happen would.

Those of you who read me on a regular basis know that I have a wonderful husband, Kahuna, who is priceless to me. So why would I, an old married lady, go see this Yenta to the rich and famous? My answer would have to be, because something in me said I needed to go. I didn’t know why I needed to go but I just knew that Lola would not have asked me to go if it were not for a reason.

I rushed home from work and changed my clothes, slipped on my cutest shoes and went to pick up Lola. We chatted on the way to the venue, but then again we chat no matter where we are. We arrived and as chance has it the Valet was full; but, as we pulled up they decided they could take 1 more car.

We made it into the Comedy Club, signed our waivers and were escorted to our seats. Lola fidgeted in her seat and wondered aloud why we could not move to the front row. A really nice man whispered to her “we seated you here so that you could go out the side door when you meet Patti.”

Wait? What? Meet UH? Lola raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips and mouthed “We get to meet Patti?” I shrugged sipped my glass of million dollar sparkling wine. Next thing we knew we were being ushered into the back room where we had our meet and greet with Patti. Who may I just take this opportunity to say is skinny, skinny, SKINNY. I digress.

We were escorted back to our table by the nice young man where our million dollar sparkling wine was waiting. Patti came out on stage and blew us all away. She gave some great advice, did some fun role playing, critique the flirting style of one man who committed one of her major no-no’s.

Patti asked if anyone in the audience was there to “put a ring on it”.

There was a couple center stage audiences who got pointed out. Patti pulled them on stage and she asked how long they had been together. She went through all the pertinent questions as to why they were co-habitating but not engaged and the young man stated that he couldn’t afford to buy his intended a ring.

Now if you have never watched Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo, you really should. The way she handles people is a little blunt and brash but she definitely gets her point across. It isn’t all about hooking up with a millionaire, it is about being smart about how and who you date and finding the one you were intended to be with.

Let’s get back to the couple in the spotlight. Patti asked why he hadn’t bought her a ring and the young man’s answer was “because I can’t afford to buy her a diamond, and she deserves a diamond.” Patti explained that it didn’t have to be a diamond, it could be an emerald or a topaz that what mattered was the commitment.

They left the stage and Patti asked if there were more questions. That is when Lola jumped to her feet and held up her hand. “Patti, Patti” she cried “I will give them a ring if he will get down on his knee and ask her to marry him.” The next thing I knew Lola was on stage handing over the ring she has worn since the day I met her to a complete stranger. We all watched as the girl accepted the ring and the proposal. We watched as he slipped the ring on her finger and just like Prince Charming slid the glass slipper onto Cinderella’s foot it was a perfect fit.

Lola came and sat back down next to me smiled a huge smile picked up her champagne glass in a toast  and said “now I know why I won the tickets.”


PS...Look for Lola on this season of Millionaire Matchmaker, she is the pixi in the hot pink shoes.






Thursday, June 23, 2011

Her Name Was Lola...She Was A Showgirl

You know how you meet someone and you hit it off? You have this karmic connection and you both know it, so you kind of hem-haw around and finally you write that note that says to check yes or no. Then you go around on pins and needles until you get the answer. Finally the note gets passed back to you. Anxiously you shakily unfold the tri-folded paper, open up the note and pray that it is marked yes.


There are always those few minutes, days or weeks where you are unsure if the other person feels the same way you do or if you are compatible.

There have only been a few times in my life when I have truly felt accepted and appreciated. When I met Lola of the Cabana it was synchronistic. I had recently moved to a new town after literally losing everything. I was feeling very much alone and lonely, because you know you can be in a crowd and still be lonely. By chance I was given a gift certificate to get a highlight and a haircut at a salon I had never before patronized and I called for an appointment.

I arrived at the salon for my appointment only to realize that the gift certificate had expired. I sheepishly apologized to the stylist. She looked at me smiled and said “it’s okay. You were supposed to meet me today.”

We began chatting and honestly haven’t stopped. I tell you this because I want to share her with you. She is my hair whisperer and my friend. She is also a fellow blogger. So please go over to So It Is with Lena and make it a regular stop. She will enlighten you with wisdom, make you laugh with her humor and impart love and advice. All you have to do is ask.

Oh and when you go…tell her Gladys sent you.





Sunday, June 19, 2011

Hook Line and Sinker

In honor of Father’s Day I thought I would share a new episode of the Trooper Bob Chronicles. I know it has been a while since I’ve had one but hey it has been a long time since I was able to sit down and squeeze a story out of the staid trooper.


It was last week whilst I was visiting with him that this story popped up in my head. I almost forgot about it but then just like a shooting star it flashed through my mind, and then it was gone. Luckily I awoke from a dream and the story popped back into my mind. This one if for you Trooper Bob, Happy Father’s Day.

Trooper Bob had worked all week writing tickets and saving damsels. He had herded a truck load of shook-up chickens off the interstate after the chicken truck had driven into the ditch and the fowl had gotten foul all over the road. It was finally his day off to do with as he wished. Nurse Meme was nursing sick people at the hospital and his lovely children were scattered to the winds doing what teenagers will do. Now was his chance to sneak off and do some fishing.

Trooper Bob went into the garage and under the discarded bicycles, skateboards and boxes of Barbies he uncovered his beloved tackle box. The one that his son, Buck, had to retrieve from the bottom of Lake Granite Shoals after he knocked it off the dock, open and full of brand new lures.

Bob loaded up his trusty white Ford F150 and headed out to his favorite honey hole. He arrived at the secluded little lake some 40 miles out of town and settled down with his tackle box, Zepco rod and reel and his bologna sandwich. He put his folding stool on the bank, tied his favorite Lindie lure to the line and cast it forth into the rippling pool. He sat down on his stool and took a bite from his bologna sandwich. He watched the trees bending in the breeze and the dragon flies flitting and fluttering above the water.


He felt the line go taut and grabbed the pole. He pulled back sharply to set the treble hook in the crappies mouth and began reeling it in. He reeled quickly toward himself and shore but failed to notice the big log resting just below the service. The clever crappie dove just as it hit the log and took the monofilament line with him. Trooper Bob sat his sandwich down on the wax paper wrapping and grabbed the rod with both hands to pull the feisty fish from under the log. He tugged and pulled and the more he did the more snagged the line became with the log. He jerked fast and hard and heard the all too familiar sound of the line snapping. He stepped back with the slack of the line and stepped on his sandwich. Trooper Bob let loose with a few expletives then sat down hard on his stool.

He looked at his ruined sandwich and sighed heavily. This wasn’t getting off to a good start he thought. He reached into his trusty tackle box and searched for another Lindie Lure. Not being successful he reached in to grab the golden shining treble hook from the box. His hand rested close to the stack of hooks and then he plucked a brand new one from its resting place. He tied it to his line and baited it with the worms from the dirt filled red Foldger’s Coffee can. He stood and cast it back out into the lake.

Bob sat and waited trying to enjoy his afternoon of freedom. He thought this was going to be a peaceful spring afternoon but the birds seemed to be a bit chirpier and the sun was a little too warm. He scooted his chair closer to the shade of the elm tree, checked his line and reached into his pouch of Redman chewing tobacco for a chew. He spat and chewed and sucked on the leaves and waited. As he began to relax he leaned against the tree and propped his feet up on his beloved tackle box. Just has his head started to loll down and to the side it happened. The line went taut and once again Bob jumped into action. He grabbed the pole and yanked hoping to miss the submerged log and land the fish.

Instead he pulled too hard and the hook exited the fish and flew straight back at the anxious angler. He raised his hands in an effort to protect himself from the glittering gold projectile. He ducked and weaved narrowly missing the projectile with his head but instinctively he instead grabbed for the line. He caught instead the hook in the webbing of the thenar space or what is normally called that area between your thumb and your pointer finger.

The hook wasn’t just stuck in the thenar space it was all the way through the webbing perfectly in the center. Bob swallowed forgetting that he had a wad of tobacco and felt a little light headed. He bent over and spat the rest of the tobacco juice out cussing and puking just a little. Then he sat back down on the stool and looked at his injury.

He reached into his tackle box and rooted out a pair of needle nose pliers. He pulled one way but the barb caught. Then he tried pulling the other way but the eye was too large. He tugged one way then the other but couldn’t budge it. He looked around at the secluded area and realized he only had one option.

On the drive back to town he dreaded what he was going to have to do. He went over it and over it in his mind and decided there was only one thing to do. He would just have to tell them about the one who got away.

Trooper Bob walked into the emergency room with his hand wrapped in his handkerchief. Nurse Goodgame met him at the door “what in the hell did you do this time” she asked hands on her wide starch white uniform clad hips.

Bob gave her his best sleepiest smile and replied “well I was out feeshing and me and this great big ole feesh got into a fight” holding up the hooked hand.

“Looks like the feesh done hooked you” she replied.

Trooper Bob thought a minute and replied “well you should have seen the size of that feesh!”





Monday, June 13, 2011

Safety First Gladys

Gladys looked down at the stack of books on her desk and tried to listen as Mrs. Carter, her third grade teacher, instructed them what to do with their supplies. Gladys raised her hand and hopped up and down in her seat a little to make sure she would be seen.


“Mizzuss Carter, what are we supposed to do with this great big book? The one that won’t fit under our desk?” Gladys asked still hopping up in down in her chair.

Mrs. Carter reached over and picked up a large thick big book off her desk. She held it in both hands and declared “Class, and Gladys, this is the MOST important book in our stack. It is the one you will use the most. You will need to keep this book on your desk or under your desk at all times. So make sure you take great care when you apply your cover to your book. Write your name in LARGE printed letters on the front and back as well as our class room and your teacher.”

Gladys hefted the book in her hand and opened it to the middle. It looked well worn but pretty boring. She sighed shut the book and pushed it to the side of her desk. She looked around the room at her fellow pupils and saw that they too were nonplused by the bulky volume. She shrugged and took a piece of brown paper bag from her stack and began tightly wrapping the book. She took her blue green, lemon yellow, and magenta crayons and began designing her name in on the cover. She wrote out each letter in one color then outlined it in the next making sure that her name could be read while still having flair.

Mrs. Carter was groovy that way. She let them be artistic and let their creativity shine. She didn’t mind that Gladys drew horses on every piece of paper that was available or that she cut daisies out of construction paper like her cool older cousin Bird had taught her. All of her cousins were very artistic and creative. Gladys’ whole family was innovational. They were painters, writers, musicians, singers and creators. Gladys tried hard to immolate them. She knew she did not have their natural ability but that didn’t stop her she still tried. So she drew a few more flowers and then drew a horse eating the flowers for good measure.

The day wore on what with all the book covering and paste eating. Finally it was getting close to the end of the day when there was a squelch from the loud speaker the National Defense siren began to wail.

Mrs. Carter raced to the front of the room and announced sternly “Everyone, we will be exiting out the front door into the interior hallway of the main building next to the cafeteria. I want you to pick up your Social Studies Book, the big thick book under your desk, and bring it with you. Now we will start with the row the farthest from the door, quietly walk single file and do not stop on the way. Gladys, you need to make sure the room is clear since you are the last one on your row. Can you do that?”

Gladys stood up straight and tall and nodded in the affirmative. She furrowed her brow and watched as each of her classmates filed from the room. She shifted the large manuscript feeling it heavy in her hand. She walked to the door stepped out, then stepped back in and switched off the lights because her daddy taught her to always turn the light off when you leave the room. Ready Kilowatt didn’t like it when you wasted electricity.

She followed the snaking line of children pushing and laughing happy to be out of the classroom for even the few minutes that the emergency drill would take. Gladys looked up in the sky and noticed that it wasn’t the normal clear blue, nor was it even the gloomy grey that sometimes takes over the sunshine in September. It was instead a menacing green. The clouds churned overhead like a bubbling pot of stew. The air had a tinge of cold and the wind had started whirling and whipping.

She turned to see the wind catch the door of the portable classroom and nail it against the wall. It was blowing so hard that Gladys was glad she had the gigantic book in her hand to help weight her down.

She made it into the building in time to see Principal Ledbetter giving everyone instructions to huddle in the hallway and place their books on the back of their heads. Gladys fell in place next to her friend Esther and whispered “It looks bad out there. I think there might be a tornado.” As if on cue there was a loud clacking and banging on the roof of the building. They could see the lightening and the crack of thunder. A huge pop and poof the lights went out. Gladys cowered lower on the floor with the heavy weight of the book on her neck.

Mrs. Carter came and checked each student making sure they had their book on their head with their name and class visible. “Alright, class I want you to remain calm and quiet until we give the all clear.”

It seemed like an eternity that they crouched in the hallway but eventually the horn sounded and the announcement came to return to their classrooms. Once again everyone filed from the building and Gladys tailed behind. She was lost in her thoughts about what had just transpired.

Could it be that the only thing that stood between her and the torrent of Mother Nature’s turmoil was a binding of facts of faraway places? This large manuscript was her protector and benefactor. It was all so clear now. This is why they wrapped it tightly. This is why they wrote their names on it. It clearly had magic powers that protected her from anything bad. She knew then that she must possess one of her own to carry with her always.

That is why to this day Gladys still owns a very large manuscript with facts of faraway places as protection against all of life’s ills.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Gladys Reviews How To Write a Book Proposal



I have a dream, a dream that someday… Oh wait, wrong dream. My dream is to someday be published. I know, you say “Gladys you are published. You are on the World Wide Web and that is published.” I mean published as in have a manuscript lingering on the New York Times Bestseller’s list for 50 bazillion months.


I decided to be proactive and do my research. Thomas Nelson publishing gave me the opportunity to review Michael Larsen’s How to Write a Book Proposal and I of course jumped on it.

I waited anxiously for the arrival of the text. When it arrived in the mail I tore into it like a fat chick into Oreo’s. I began ravenously devouring the years of knowledge Mr. Larsen has in the literary world.

He explained the basics of the proposal as well as infusing his text with stories from submittals he has seen both good and bad. He writes with a flow that keeps the work both interesting and absorbable.

He explains the importance of titles as well as what you can do to market your manuscript. He takes you all the way through from how to bring your idea to fruition to submitting your proposal. He includes examples of proposals and ideas for making your work rise above the fray.

Although Mr. Larsen’s book was aimed at the non-fiction genre it seems to be just as viable for the fiction world. I am excited to recommend this to other aspiring novelists who are struggling to get the perfect proposal sent to the best publisher for their work.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”



Saturday, May 28, 2011

I AM And So Are You

Kahuna had been after me for weeks. “Oh come on, you know you want to. I promise you’ll like it” he would cajole. I would shrug and reply “maybe.”


He persisted day after day, week after week until I finally gave in. I stripped off my yoga pants and stood in there in my nothingness looking at him with the disgusted look of a woman who was being made to remove her favorite sweats, kick off her favorite slippers and put on real clothes to go out into public.

I donned my “mom” jeans and slipped on a sweater and fluffed my hair. Kahuna grabbed my hand and drug me to the car. We were off in a run to L.A. We drove up the freeway talking about our destination. What did it mean, what was it about?

We arrived at the theater, paid our matinee senior citizen discounted fare and stumbled through the dim theater to a couple of seats in the middle, not too close where our necks would break but close enough we could see without straining.

The film Kahuna had been itching to see was “I Am” by Tom Shaydac. Don’t know who he is? Ever heard of the movie “Ace Ventura” or “Liar, Liar”? How about “Evan Almighty” or “The Nutty Professor”? Yeah, that guy, but not that kind of movie. Just so you know, if you don’t know who he is don’t feel bad neither did Bishop Desmond Tutu.


Mr. Shaydac had an accident which resulted in a concussion that caused him chronic and intense pain. It was through his feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that he found a new passion. He had a moment of clarity. He grabbed a 4 man crew and set out on a mission to research and document this epiphany. He meets and interviews a variety of remarkable people including scientist, philosophers academics, and men of faith such as David Suzuki, Noam Chomsky, Howard Zinn, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Lynne McTaggart, Ray Anderson, John Francis, Coleman Barks, and Marc Ian Barasch. Shaydac asks these great thinkers the question what is wrong with this world and what can we do about it.

The result is a life-affirming film that challenges our preconceptions about science, religion, spirituality and the irrepressible human spirit. It reminds us that what we do not only effects us but everyone. It tells us that we are truly not alone.

I am so glad that I shucked off my yoga togs and donned my city clothes. I highly recommend this film for anyone who asks themselves the hard questions. “When you ask what is wrong with this world, the answer is I AM”.











Monday, May 16, 2011

Gladys McGuillicutty and the FBI




I got this in my email today and I am so thankful to know the Federal Bureau of Investigation is on the job!



Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI)
Anti-Terrorist And Monitory Crime Division.
Federal Bureau Of Investigation.
J.Edgar.Hoover Building Washington Dc
Customers Service Hours / Monday To Saturday
Office Hours Monday To Saturday:

Dear Beneficiary,

Series of meetings have been held over the past 7 months with the secretary general of the United Nations Organization. It is obvious that you have not received your fund which is to the tune of $850,000.00 due to past corrupt Governmental Officials who almost held the fund to themselves for their selfish reason and some individuals who have taken advantage of your fund all in an attempt to swindle your fund, which has led to so many losses from your end and unnecessary delay in the receipt of your fund.

The National Central Bureau of Interpol enhanced by the United Nations and Federal Bureau of Investigation have successfully passed a mandate to the current president of Nigeria to boost the exercise of clearing all foreign debts owed you, and other individuals and organizations who have been found not to have receive their Contract Sum, Lottery/Gambling, Inheritance and the likes. Now how would you like to receive your payment? because we have two method of payment which is by Check or by ATM card.

ATM Card: We will be issuing you a custom pin based ATM card which you will use to withdraw up to $3,000 per day from any ATM machine that has the MasterCard Logo on it and the card has to be renewed in 3 years time which is 2014. Also, with the ATM card you will be able to transfer your funds to your local bank account. The ATM card comes with a manual to enlighten you about how to use it. Even if you do not have a bank account.

Check: To be deposited in your bank for it to be cleared within three working days. Your payment would be sent to you via any of your preferred option and would be mailed to you via UPS. Because we have signed a contract with UPS which should expire by MAY 14 2011. You will only need to pay $155 instead of $540 saving you $385 So if you pay before MAY 14 2011, you save $385.

Note You are advised to stop all communication with every other person if you have been in contact with any. We guarantee the successful delivery within 24hrs after the receipt of payment has been confirmed.

Below are few list of tracking numbers you can track from UPS website www.ups.com to confirm people like you who have received their payment successfully.

R. BLALOCK 1ZA 3274 W034 013 5717 www.ups.com


A. FONTANEZ 1Z 57V 268 03 4707 4975 www.ups.com


T. ANDERS 1Z 57V 268 03 4865 0322 www.ups.com

To effect the release of your fund valued at $850,000.00 you are advised to contact our correspondent in Africa the delivery officer Mr. Danny Brown with the information below,
Name of Agent: Danny Brown
Email: steve.bahie1@info.lt

Payment should be made by westernunion using the following info:

Receiver: Danny Brown
Location: Lagos-Nigeria
Text Question: Color
Text Answer: Brown

You are adviced to contact him with the informations as stated below:

Your full Name..


Your Address:...


Home/Cell Phone:...


Preferred Payment Method ( ATM / Cashier Check )

Upon receipt of payment the delivery officer will ensure that your package is sent within 24 working hours. Because we are so sure of everything we are giving you a 100% money back guarantee if you do not receive payment/package within the next 24hrs after you have made the payment for shipping.

Yours sincerely,


Miss Donna Story


FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
WASHINGTON, D.C. 20535


Note: Do disregard any email you get from any impostors or offices claiming to be in possession of your ATM CARD, you are hereby advice only to be in contact with Mr. Danny Brown of the ATM CARD CENTRE who is the rightful person to deal with in regards to your ATM CARD PAYMENT and forward any emails you get from impostors to this office so we could act upon and commence investigation



Don’t you love the safety disclaimer at the end?






I am so excited that the FBI is finally taking care of those Nigerian Prince scammers and that Agent Donna Story has quite a story. I have been sending them money for years and never receive anything in return. I also have not seen the my inheritance from Jacabson Brown Esq. nor has the Bank of China.   Here I have been funding my funds by sending them funds to fund the funding of the funds.


Sorry I can’t tally, I must hurry down to Western Union and send the FBI my money for my ATM card.


Thursday, May 5, 2011

Sleeping Beauty

It has been awhile since I’ve joined in the Theme Thursday blog fair. I saw this and of course it brought back a story. I thought I’d share this one with you about Sleep.


Gladys woke with a start and rubbed her eyes. “Was I asleep” she asked Kahuna. He nodded and rearranged his arm shaking it a bit when he did.

How could she have let this happen? She hadn’t felt well but had agreed to see him anyway. She had rushed home showered and primped. She dressed in her cutest top and fluffed her hair. She gargled with warm salt water trying to stave off the sore throat then drank a double espresso to keep her exhaustion at bay. She had worked close to 60 hours that week not to mention had crammed in a 2300 mile round trip for a court hearing. But he was such a nice man and had been such a gentleman on their first date several weeks back.

Gladys had been single for quite some time and her last endeavor into a relationship had ended catastrophically to say the least. Her daddy had told her that her picker was broke and boy was he right. Every man she had chosen had been a really bad choice. They were either lazy, a cheat, mean, or just downright dastardly or all of the above. Kahuna seemed different.

He actually seemed to be the answer to a prayer if you didn’t count the fact that he was a movie talker. He was attentive without being clingy; he was kind and sweet without being weak, he was available and best of all he had a great sense of humor. So she made an exception to her newest rule of not dating.

They sat close together watching the movie, his arm around her shoulder. Gladys watched as the plot unfolded and her eyes got heavy. She watched as Leonardo DiCaprio flew the Spruce Goose.

She tried to watch but something happened and her eyes closed. The next thing she knew it was the ending credits and she had been out cold for almost 3 hours. She had fallen asleep and had laid her head in her date’s lap at the local movie theater. She was mortified. If that wasn’t bad enough she had drooled. She had drooled all over this nice man’s pants. Oh she had not just exuded a little spittle. Oh no, she had emitted enough saliva to over flow the banks of the Mississippi. She wanted to die. She prayed that the roof would open up and that GAWD would smite her right there in the local Edward’s Cinema.

Kahuna shook his arm again and dabbed at his soaked dungarees with a napkin “do you feel better now?”

“I am so sorry I fell asleep on you. I didn’t mean to. I mean I know you know I didn’t mean to. What I meant was I wouldn’t have accepted the date had I known I was that exhausted.” Gladys wiped the spittle from her cheek and chin and tried to put her now disheveled hair back into some semblance of order.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you had a good sleep.”

Gladys reached in her purse and pulled out her wallet “Please let me pay you for my ticket. I mean how rude of me to allow you to pay for my ticket and then, well, you know.”

Kahuna held up his and “Nope it was well worth the money. I mean I can’t tell you the last time I spent three hours watching a movie with a woman asleep on my lap.”

Gladys was awfully embarrassed by the whole scenario and headed toward the exit. “Thank you so much for asking me out. I really do appreciate, um, well you know, your not being upset.”

Kahuna smiled “how could I be upset with someone who made them turn the volume up because she snored so loud?”

That was it Gladys searched her purse for a knife, a letter opener, anything so that she could slit her wrist right then and there.



Thursday, April 28, 2011

Gladys Gets Ready

I am just beside myself. Wait if I’m beside myself does that make me bi-polar or multi-personality disorder? Either way I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head chopped off, which if you have ever seen you know is quite messy. What with blood spurting here and feathers flying there. I digress.


Oh I know I should have been better prepared. I should have planned in advance. I should have, but I didn’t. Then I took Nurse Meme day off and flounced around all day and got nothing done. Well nothing except went to Wal*Mart. That brings me to another side track. I believe we need more rules in this country. One of which is if you are going to make me pick dog poop up off of your dirt then you should be made to pick your child’s poop up off the Wal*Mart bathroom floor. I think that is a good rule.

I know about now you are looking at your computer and screaming out “WHAT? GLADYS DID WHAT? WHERE?” Well let me first share this little story and then I’ll get back to my other little story. I went to the Squal, um I mean Wal*Mart yesterday to pick up some of those cool little tooth picks that have the stringy thing on them that lets you floss your teeth without having to unhinge your jaw to get to your back teeth. It kind of surprises me that they have them at our Wal*Mart seeing as most of the people in our Walmart don’t have back teeth, come to think of it they don’t have front ones either. I have been suffering from a little bout of e-coli that was produced from eating tainted Jenny-O turkey burgers. This puts me in a precarious situation since the effects of it will hit me in the most obnoxious way at the most inopportune times. I was standing in the aisle when all of a sudden old Mr. E-Coli decides to do a number on me and I rush for the bathroom. Well in true Wal*Mart style the one closest to me had a big yellow cart parked in front of it with the words “OUT OF ORDER”. I pointed at that cart and shouted “Out of order! YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER”. Then I promptly turned around and high tailed it, so to speak, to the back of the store where I hoped and prayed the other restroom would not be having a judgmental moment.

I found the door to be free of blockage and ran for a stall. I settled on the first open door and began my germ blockage regimen. When I bent to place the ass gasket on the stool I noticed something on the floor not quite in my stall. I looked a bit closer and realized it was 3 small child sized turds on the floor. YES, I said TURDS as in more than one on the FLOOR. I ran for another stall and finally found one open and was able to find one that was turdless.

I was washing my hands when I spied a Wal*Mart employee drying her hands and so I said “Excuse me, but someone has relieved themselves on the floor in stall number 2. Shouldn’t someone come clean that up?” Becky, I know her name was Becky because it said so on her Wal*Mart name tag, replied “That doesn’t surprise me.” Then she went back to checking her passion pink lipstick and fluffing up her 1980’s over-permed mullet. I stood in disbelief and asked “aren’t you going to do something or tell someone?” Do you know what Becky the Wal*Mart employee said? She said “Nope.”

Well I trotted my little self right on up to the customer service desk and I demanded that they de-turd the restroom for the health and safety of the other Wal*Mart patrons. Then I told them exactly what I told you. I told them there should be a sign just like the sign in the park. You know the one that shows the person picking up dog poop, only with them picking up kid poop. You know what Youlanda, the Wal*Mart customer service lady and I know that was her name and what she did because it was on her name tag, said to me? She said “WHO DOES THAT?” My thoughts exactly. Now where was I?

Oh Yeah, me being schizophrenic or Catherine Zeta Jones or whatever. I have been working feverishly all day today. Why you ask? Well because it is the day before the Royal Wedding and I am just not prepared. I spent my morning getting the house all dusted and shined. I waxed the tables and cleaned the glass. I have been on the phone for hours looking for canopies. I called all around and they all said the same thing that I should get an Easy-UP. I keep telling people that I want little individual cakes and crackers with crab dip on them but for some reason they tell me it won’t be shady enough.

I ironed my outfit and gathered my pearls. I found my hankies and polished my tiara.

Then as I was walking around my kitchen talking to Omar the Tent maker about setting up some awnings and tables I realized my silver had not been shined.

Well this started another feverish flourish in the house of McGuillicutty.


I promptly began wiping and polishing and polishing and wiping which made me realize that I did not have a decent tin of tea in the house nor did I have any scones, biscuits or curd anywhere around.


What am I to do? I mean the wedding is tomorrow morning at 3 a.m. my time.

I was in a panic until I realized that no one in the house of McGuillicutty cared about the whole Royal fiasco but me. I just hope no one leaves turds in the restroom floor of Westminster Abby.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Gladys Quotes Nurse Meme

It is April which means it is spring, which means there are pollen and mold spores and all kinds of floaty fleety things in the air. It happens every year and every year it takes me by surprise. I wake with puffy eyes, running nose and a raspy voice that sounds like I have drank a few too many whiskeys and smoked ten too many cigarettes even though I haven’t. It is also the birth month of Nurse Meme.


I thought about this one morning when I woke way too early. I wondered what I could do to celebrate and commemorate my mother. I decided that I would each day post on my Twitter @gladysspeaks one of my mother’s sayings. Now some are original and some are bastardizations of clichés but all of them came out of her mouth at one time or another.

Nurse Meme could deadpan better than anyone I’ve ever known, but she was loud and clear when she was being serious. She would preface this fact with “I’m NOT LAUGHING” which would be preceded by either y full name complete with my first, middle and last name or with “young lady”.

One day when I was a young woman, oh shut up I was young…once, I was having a particularly bad day. My boyfriend was being an ass, my dog was sick and my clutch had gone out on my car and I thought it was the end of the world. I was sitting at the kitchen table having myself a real nice pity party. Nurse Meme came into the kitchen and took one look at me and shook her head “Gladys, what the hell is your problem?” I looked up from my cup of coffee and whined “my life is just terrible. I’m so tired of things going wrong all the time.” Nurse Meme got a pained look on her face and replied “Oh for cryin out loud! Pull your big girl panties up and get over yourself!” That was it. That was all she wrote. I was done for. I started laughing and couldn’t stop. She had totally nailed me. She was good at that. Now I know her intent was to basically tell me to knock it off but it was the way she told me to knock it off that made the difference.

 If the art of being blunt was gold, Nurse Meme would have been 24 karat. She could see you the first time in 2 years and immediately note out loud that you had gained 5 pounds and exactly where they were situated. The conversation would go something like this. “Earlene, why I haven’t seen you in 2 years. How are you? Howsyourmommandthem? Has your sisters hair grown back in after the bbq explosion? I told your dumbass brother-in-law that kerosene isn’t a very good choice of charcoal lighter. You know I think I’ve had him through the Eemerg-incy room 5 or 6 times this year. Well gurl you are looking good. You know it looks like you have put on a pound or five, right there round your hips. Oh now don’t go pulling that little short top down tryin to hide it. It looks real good with those low slung pants. You got one of them, what is it the kids call it? Muffin top? Well now you make sure you tell yourmommaandthem I said HI.” Then she would sashay off with her hair and make up in perfect order, her jeans freshly starched and pressed waving bye and never once batting an eye that she might have crossed a line. She said what she thought. She was blunt.

I loved that about her and wish that I too could be that blunt. So in memory of Nurse Meme I am posting my collection of Nurse Memeisms

"If you keep eating like that your ass is going to be as broad as an ax handle.". Nurse Meme

"You can get happy in those same panties you got mad in" Nurse Meme

"If everyone else were jumping off a bridge would you jump too? If you would then you're as big a dumb ass as they are" Nurse Meme

"There isn't any thing that a little Camphonphenique won't cure." Nurse Meme

"If you don't have something nice to say, then shut the hell up!" Nurse Meme

"Don't sh*t where you eat" Nurse Meme

"Don't cry over spilled milk, get off your ass and wipe it up." Nurse Meme

"Can't never could do anything" Nurse Meme

"Just put on more lipstick, you'll feel better." Nurse Meme

"If you lie down with dogs, you're gonna get up with fleas and you'll smell like a dog" Nurse Meme


Now go on and eat your veggies because there are starving children in China who would just love to have your brussel sprouts.