Miscellaneous Ramblings of a Mother of Three

General rantings, musings and purging

Sunday, May 19, 2002




The Way Things Ought to Be


Never let it be said that I don't speak my mind. Somethings are just supposed to be.



1. American cheese is yellow. I am sorry to my northern friends, but that is the way it is. Kraft makes it yellow for a reason--because that is the color of cheese. White American cheese is just not rght


2. Tea is suppsed to be iced and sweetend. I do not know why this concept is so foriegn to those north of Kentucky or west of Texas. When you go to a restaurant, you are supposed to be able to order sweet tea. It is a known fact that you cannot sweeten a glass of tea adequately with packages of sugar at the table.


3. Car trunks or truck beds are for storage, not for sound systems. I am so freaking tired of being awakened or having my kids scared by the sounds of bass thumping from 4 blocks away. I can only make peace with this by remembering that when these kids are my age they will need hearing aids and will not look cool and won't be able to hear a damn thing.


4. Infomercials should be put on pay per view or shopping channels only. I do not want to see those fools cooking a chicken in a box, spraying on hair or solving all of life's problems in 30 minutes. I have no respect for any channel (including my beloved A and E) that sells time to those freaks. Surely there is some el cheapo rerun they could buy to fill that time--no one is watching the infomercials anyway.


5. Newsflash--people over 125 pounds get pregnant. There really needs to be a decent store that you can go to and buy maternity clothes instead of being forced to shop on line and pray the stuff fits when it gets there.


6. The Three Stooges should be allowed to rest in peace. There days is over. For the love of God, make them go away.


7. Insert Jerry Lewis in the line above.


8. Foul-mouthed "artists" shouldn't be on my radio. I am also tired of having to flip the channel while doing 80 on the interstate because somone feels the need to sing about their ass or call their mom a whore. If I want to be cussed at, I will stand around and listen to the bass-thumpers' music in the KMart parking lot.

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