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Pamp Ass Grass

May 29th, 2011

Customer – I am looking for some pompous grass.

Me – Pompous grass?

Customer – Yes… the tall kind… with the big plumes?

Me – You mean Pampas grass?

Customer – Isn’t that what I said?

Me – You said pompous…

Customer – Yes… that’s right.  I am looking for some pompous grass.

Me – It’s not pompous… it’s Pampas.

Customer – That’s what I said.

Me – You actually said pompous.

Customer – Do you have the grass or not?

Me – Which kind are you looking for again?

Customer – Pompous.

Me – We don’t have any pompous grass, but would you like to look at our PAMPas grass?

Customer – No!  I want the Pompous!

Me – I have an idea!  How about I sell you some PAMPas Grass and then once you own it, it becomes pompous by association…

Customer – Isn’t the customer is always right?

Me – Only the pompous ones.

Customer – I see your point.  I was a mite filled with self importance and perhaps behaving in an irritatingly superior manner, however, the plant for which I yearn is also somewhat ridiculously grand for a grass.

Me – Hmmmmm.  That is undeniably true.  One might even describe it as downright arrogant.

Customer – So… will you now show me the pompous, Pampas grass?

Me – Under those terms, it would be impossible for me not to.

Customer – Thank you.

Me – You’re welcome.  Please follow me.

This one may make your eyeballs bleed. It starts out excruciatingly slow with slides of the same old photos we’ve seen thousands of times and just when you are about to fall headlong into a coma from which there is no return, the narrator begins to quote Ree’s new romance novel…

“The ranch was so removed from any semblance of society. It was easy to completely forget that society even existed, let alone a society brimming with traffic, hustle and bustle and stress. I found it so easy to think clearly.”

I don’t know who was in charge of editing this book, but using the word ‘society’ three times and the word ‘easy’ two times in the same paragraph seems a tiny bit redundant to me. Call me crazy, but could Ree not locate an online thesaurus?  Or how about re-work those sentences jut a bit?

In order to help Ree with her next book which I imagine will be called Black Heels to Tractor Wheels to Unending Spiels and Big Bloggy Deals, I am going to suggest a few simple synonyms for the words society and easy.  That way, she can keep her mind focused on more pressing matters – like taking twenty two thousand photos of Charlie lying on the couch.

“The ranch was so removed from anything resembling civilization. It was easy to completely forget that the world even existed, let alone a non-stop jungle brimming with traffic, hustle and bustle and stress.  I could relax and think clearly.

Now we just need to switch out the uber cliche of the phrase – ‘brimming with traffic, hustle and bustle and stress.” because blah.

How about this?

Let alone a non-stop jungle swinging on the vines of it’s own exhaust.

Now let’s just re-do the entire paragraph…

“The ranch was so removed from anything resembling civilization. I could almost forget that the world even existed, let alone a non-stop jungle swinging on the vines of its own exhaust. The air was clear. The sky was blue.  I could see.  I could breathe.  I could hear myself think.”


Isn’t that better!

Can a jungle swing on the vines of it’s own exhaust?

Who cares!  It’s better!

Next up Ree answers some questions, but her answers are totally boring, so I dragged Pie Near Woman out to give them a little flavor!


Interviewer – Fill in the blank.  A cowgirl cannot live without…?

PNW – A millionaire cowboy husband, A Nikon D 700 SLR, a Canon EOS 1 Ds Mark III Digital SLR, a macro lens, a micro lens, a micro/macro/micro lens, a closet full of never to be worn designer clothes, a sequined mini, a gilded lily, a designer dog named Charlie, imported mascara, botox, a Kitchen-Aid mixer in every color of the rainbow, enough Jadeite to turn Martha Stewart green, an absurd collection of flowy tops in every obnoxious print under the sun, enough Spanx to feed the world, Limoges, Two MacBook Pros for each residence (guest house, other guest house, other guest house, the lodge, each suburban and the main house), a gardener, a nanny, a private tutor for each punk, a jet, an airport, and a housekeeper named Tia Juana who lives in the basement, does all the cooking and ghostwrites my best sellers!

Interviewer – What is the most romantic thing Marlboro Man has ever done for you?

PNW – Funded my rise to internet stardom.

Interviewer – What’s the most romantic thing you have ever done for Marlboro Man?

PNW – Let him have the hind milk.

Interviewer – Where’s the location of your most memorable kiss?

PNW – With MM?

Interviewer – Uh…

PNW – And do you mean me on him or him on me?

Interviewer – I mean where was the kiss?  What was the location?

PNW – Well it wasn’t on the lips sister!   And I won’t ever forget it!  The branding iron sort of made that impossible anyway!

Interviewer – Um… Maybe we should move on.  Why are chaps so sexy?

PNW – Are you a total dumbass?  I mean isn’t it kind of obvious?  Do you want me to put it on a pie chart or something?

Interviewer – I guess you’re right.  The way they showcase certain vital regions on a man’s anatomy…

PNW – What?  No!  It’s the BUCKLES you idiot!  All those straps and buckles.  They totally make me lactate.

Interviewer – Okay… Um… Paula Dean or Bobby Flay?

PNW – Bobby! Bobby!  Bobby!  My bags swell to the fullness of the land just thinking of him!  And honey!  We gotta lotta land!

Interviewer – Would you rather be forced to give up meat or give up butter?

PNW – Ooooooh! Who’s doing the forcing? Is it Marlboro Man? So boring!  How about Trisha Yearwood? I think she has all the markings of an excellent dominatrix.  Is Bobby forcing me? Can he beat me with a wire whisk first?  OMG!  I am so LEAKING!  Someone get me a dishcloth!  Not that shitty one!  The nice one from Williams Sonoma!  JESUS!

Interviewer – Favorite thing about country life?

PNW – The internet.

Interviewer – You’re stranded with nothing to do but read a book. What book would you want to have with you?

PNW – Where am I stranded?

Interviewer – Uh…

PNW – Can I be stranded at a Starbucks?

Interviewer – Sure…So what are you reading at Starbucks?

PNW – I am wearing a flowy top embroidered in pure gold by the hands of twenty seven Chinese children, expensive complicated heels with thousands of buckles and straps adorn my perfectly pedicured feet, my long red hair that is actually dark brown is hanging down my back in a lush tangle of Nelly Olsen curls… I have angel sleeves… there are a twenty three bracelets on my left arm and fourteen necklaces around my neck.  My earrings feature owls mating with the most adorable chihuahuas…

Interviewer – Not wearing!… ReadingWhat are you Reading!

PNW – I’m not reading anything. I’m modeling my outfit for Starbucks!

Interviewer – But the question that I asked you is what are you reading while you are stranded at Starbucks?

PNW – I’m watching T.V.

Interviewer – There isn’t a T.V. at Starbucks.

PNW – Then I’ll just get my coffee to go!

Interviewer – You can’t! The doors are locked, there’s no T.V., the only thing you can do is read. What are you reading.

PNW – The menu?

Interviewer – It has to be a book. You must be reading a book. What is the book?

PNW – Does People magazine count?

Interviewer – No. A real book.  Like one of your own books.

PNW – I can read my own book?

Interviewer – Is that what you would read?

PNW – Yes!

Interviewer – Which one?

PNW – How many do I have?

Interviewer – Sigh.  Let’s move on to the final question. What are you most looking forward to with your upcoming book tour?

PNW – My fawning zombie fans who laugh on command and being near a Starbucks with no books!

Interviewer – Do you have any closing remarks?

PNW – Ooooh!  I have been practicing and practicing this one!  How does this sound?  I always thought that happiness was friends, having things to do and places to go and Broadway shows, but now I realize that happiness is really about being a famous blogger. That’s how you get contentment… and also love… which I love my husband very much… even though I am stuck on this shitty ranch in the middle of nowhere I still have contentment and love and millions of rabid fans and also millions of dollars! That is how you find contentment.  Love ya more’n my luggage!

Jack and His Superpowers

December 16th, 2010

So my son Jack  is only nine and a wee nine at that.  Actually he is a tall, bony, sort of skeletal nine, full of freckles and squealy juice, but never-mind my ardour for my youngest child.  All you really need to know is that he still allows me to occasionally cling to him like the abandoned monkey in a science experiment gone very wrong.  As you may have also noted, the rest of my children are advanced in age.  Weighing in at 15, 13, and 12, their minds have been polluted with that scary substance known to all mothers as independence and they have little time for their mom unless they are a.  hungry.  b.  needing cash.  c.  hungry again.

Responding to things (me) emotionally (or at all) also doesn’t come easily to my husband… 

Me – Holy SHIT!  I was just stung by a wasp!

Him – ———————————

Me – Dammit!  I was just stung again!

Him – ——————————-

Me – Holy Hell!  I am swelling up like a dead buffalo in an Arizona pasture in the middle of July!

Him – ——————————— unblink

Me – My fingers just popped open!  My eyeballs are ejecting from my head! 

Him – Can you pass me that wrench?

So yeah.  I am kind of isolated and alone in the realm of emotional response to pain around here.

But I still have my nine year old.  And he still responds beautifully to his old, occasionally emotionally, needy mom.

So when our family was driving out to western Kansas for Thanksgiving I kind of fell apart a little bit… okay… I sort of fell apart a lot.  I had a little breakdown in the minivan. I was kind of worked up about seeing family and I didn’t know how it would all go.   I was also all worked up about Fred Phelps coming to town and I was worried that no one was going to come out to counter his horrible protest and what does that say about my town and why do I live in such an awful place and what does this mean for my kids and etc, etc, and I started to tell the kids that family things were a bit hard for me these days because I don’t believe the way the rest of my family believes anymore and so things are kind of strained and odd and it makes me feel nervous and freaked out and I have lost some people that were at one time very important to me and Fred Phelps represents a certain kind of evil that people need to stand against because if people just ignore horrible stuff – it will never go away and yeah – so I was a basket case and I started crying and saying that it had been kind of a tough year and the boys were real quiet and the CD was real quiet and the whole van was real quiet except for me blubbering away in the driver’s seat trying to keep the car on the road…

And let’s just say that tearful emotional outbursts in our family are sort of rare unless they involve the X-box controller or unnecessary roughness in basement football.

But then Jack piped up and said…

Well yeah mom.  You can’t really believe in God… because that’s sort of like believing in super powers… and they aren’t real either.

And with that one small statement my nine year old made his mother feel much better.

You’re right Jack.   They’re aren’t really any superpowers… except for the ones that enable us to reach out beyond ourselves and help someone feel a bit better about things. 

And Thanksgiving turned out to be okay too. 

And the counter protest was very good. 

And this old world just keeps on a’ turning,