This has to be one of my most favorite Halloween costumes from my childhood! Yep- me and some of my Barrelassin’ cousins were Giant Kooky Spooks. I don’t know what  a Kooky Spook is- but it was fantastic!. I can still remember the smell of the face paint and the blow up head. I know I wasn’t more than five years old and it’s still the costume that stands out in my mind the most.

My little Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and Princess! This is one of my favorite Halloween costumes that my kids wore. They would’ve never settled for a blowup  head! They’re almost grown now and it’s all about hanging out with friends. I noticed I didn’t get invited to hang out or cruise town with any of them tonight. This is proof that they once loved their mother 😉

This is my silly Pimp. My kids have a mind of their own. Let’s just say I should be thankful that he’s far too busy with his homies to be reading this right now. 
Yes- my Barrelassin’ son went as White Trash for Halloween one year. If you tell me you want to be “white trash” for Halloween- I will buy you a trash can and pile trash around you. I’m a good mommy.
My very own Halloween Asian girl. I’m so glad we got a good picture before her eyelashes fell off and her chopsticks stopped cooperating in her hair. She would never do this now,so this is how I get even. 😉
Who says Unicorns aren’t real? I’ve always know that my Barrelassin’ hubby was magical. 
This was a fun Halloween at my mom’s house. She is not only a Good Witch- she’s a great Witch! My Barrelassin’ sister is the cutie next to me, the Cowgirl. As far as the two fingers photo bombing the photo, I can’t give them credit, because I don’t know who they are- but they’re rockin’ it!
Trick or Treat, Barrelassers- be safe, enjoy 🙂


When my husband recently suggested to our twenty year old son that he may actually be digressing, I thought it sounded silly. He has met with The National Guard recently and has his ASVAB scheduled, and is looking into college through the Military. But this, could be a clue.

I’m smack-dab in the middle of re-arranging  some things in the house and I thought I would take a look at my son’s desk.

 Clue #1) The desk is sitting in the middle of his room and used to pile clothes on. I told my son I wanted to look at it to see if I got an excited feeling when I looked at it. If so, I may want to use it. If not…I would leave it. After I looked at it, my son brought up something he had discussed with me awhile back.

 Clue #2) Not so long ago he told me that pretty soon he plans to turn his room into a construction zone and not let anyone else in to see until his project was complete.

 Clue #3) His project could not be built anywhere else and brought into the room- it was too big and had to be built inside the room.

Clue #4) He never started the project.

 Today he decided to indulge me with all of the details surrounding his “one upon a time project.” He told me that he had originally planned to build a platform for his King Size bed. He wanted to build it about five feet high. Underneath the bed would be all the free space he needed for other things he wanted for his room. Also- there would be a curtain to open and close so that no one could see this “free space” underneath the bed. It was then that I put all the clues together and said to my son, “so, you want to build a fort?” He tried to explain why it wasn’t a fort, but trust me, it had all the makings of a fort.

Now I have it all figured out. My son isn’t joining the Military for a good job and college. My son is joining the Military because they build cooler forts.

 Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂


Once upon a time, in a land far, far away,(by “far away” I mean about about twenty two years ago, which would make me seventeen years old) my Barrelassin’ cousin and I were mechanics (by “mechanics” I mean “no we were not.”) We were definitely not mechanics, but that would’ve been cool. In fact, it would’ve been great considering the amount of time we spent under the hood of a car.

My Barrelassin’ aunt left town with her husband for a very lengthy road trip, and her two daughters stayed behind with me and Momma. We had full use of their vehicle while they were away, a choice they probably weren’t  too happy with upon their return home, but the damage was done- no turning back.

I can’t tell you a big long story about what happened to this car in the first place, besides the fact that it turned into our traveling closet; we had clothes for every occasion covering the backseat of this car. We were never without what we needed to keep us rollin’. We barrelassed all over town in that car. Anyway- at some point the car needed repairs and our two dollars were not going to be enough to take care of the problems. Lucky for us we didn’t need to do anything. There was the other daughter, and she had a boyfriend who knew a thing or two about cars and was more than willing to repair the car for us. Don’t ask me what he did, I do not know the answer. I only know that whatever he did turned us into mech-ani-acs.

This is a play by play of what it took for us to leave the driveway in the car.

Lift the hood
Take two spliced wires and connect them to one another. At this point we would hear the fan.
Close the hood- start the car.

This was during daylight hours. When it would start to get dark, we would pull over somewhere and lift the hood and connect another set of spliced wires. This would make the headlights work. Now- the catch to the whole thing was that, the second set of wires- the ones that made the lights work, had to be connected in order for the radio to work. So if we wanted to listen to the radio we had to drive around in broad daylight with the lights on (way before daytime running lights where lights were always on) and every person we passed would flash their lights at us to let us know our “headlights were literally…on.” The even bigger problem was that the lights only worked on bright. So, not only did people flash at us all day, now we were cruising town with everyone flashing their lights at us, because we were now bright-lighting them. Anytime we parked the car, we had to lift the hood, disconnect all the Frankenstein wires and go about our business. It was a vicious circle.

After a few encounters with guys approaching us to see if we needed help, we quickly learned to use this to our advantage. We were not dummies. Not most of the time anyway. When we saw the attention it brought every time we raised the hood of that car, it became a tool. A tool we used to meet guys we wanted to meet. We would cruise around town, wherever the cute guys were and wherever they were turning around or hanging out, is where we would drive the car to and lift the hood and try to look as confused as possible. “What in the world is wrong with our car? What could be going wrong here?” Worked like a charm- EVERY SINGLE TIME!

We were experts! We knew exactly what guys we wanted to help us and precisely where to park that car, and the precise moment to park it there to get their attention. The real problem was that none of them ever had a clue what was wrong or what to do. That was a good stall that gave us time for the perfect amount of conversation and time for plenty of hair-flipping moments. The best part was the moment we knew we no longer wanted to talk to some of the guys- we would instantly look like a genius, declaring, “I think I will put these two wires together, and then these two and see what happens” and the car would start, we’d say a quick “thanks for your concern” and speed off to “fake break down” in front of some other guys that we deemed a better choice. The downside…some guys spent the whole time actually mystified trying to figure out what was wrong with the car and left no time for small talk with us, and even if we wanted to talk to the chosen ones, there came a time where we had to become mechanics in a nonchalant way and fix the car ourselves, leaving a lot of guys scratching their heads and probably feeling like fools.

These memories are so funny to me, but when I think of them, I have to wonder…did we have a “bright idea” or did the two of us have a couple of “loose wires?”

Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂


Have yourself a merry little Halloween…now. No, really- I mean it, NOW, because Christmas is waiting and it’s not being patient.

I’m hearing about and seeing a lot of Halloween and Christmas decorations everywhere at the same time. I’ve seen some complaints about it. Where do I stand on this topic? Hmm- well, I don’t really care all that much. Halloween is really just a gateway drug to a Turkey and a Ham for me. I can buy candy all year long, so I’m really not worried that it’s going anywhere. More and more the average person looks like they’re dressed for Halloween on a daily basis, and pairing that with the fact that I’m too scared to go around scared all month, takes the actual “problem” off the table for me. It is, however, the only day acceptable to go door to door and expect complete strangers to give you candy, but I’ve covered all that in an earlier post and I personally, haven’t tricked the hell out of anyone in a long time , so maybe I’ll switch it up a little this year. BEWARE!!! There- that’s my Halloween spooky voice to kick things off.

In all seriousness, I love Christmas decorations so I wouldn’t be at all opposed to the stores selling them all year long. And I’m not talking about those Christmas only stores where a glass ball with a hook costs more than the tree I plan to hang it from. Perhaps Walmart could have a Christmas section for the entire year. I do agree that it looks quite odd and ridiculous to have an inflatable Santa in one yard with a giant pumpkin in the yard next door. It’s not the store’s fault. Probably as a courtesy, they begin the sale of Christmas items so the consumer can get a head start on the most expensive holiday. I would guess they didn’t take into consideration the dumb-asses who can’t come together and decide on an appropriate time to coordinate the holidays and it’s decorations. The transition from the Orange Fall, the candy bar and a Turkey to the Red & White Winter and a tree in your house is not an easy one for some people.

I believe it was an unwritten rule at one time that Thanksgiving, was the appropriate time to start the Winter and Christmas decorating, but I suppose since it’s not even Halloween day yet and I’m freezing my rear end off, it could pass for Winter. It doesn’t really matter anyway- I have one strand of icicle lights still hanging from my house and one upper portion of a window covered in fake snow leftover from last Christmas- I guess I jumped the gun on Christmas ten months ago.

Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂


My husband is officially home after the meeting/conference over the last week and I can finally pull my head out from under the covers. My butt and feet temperature are returning to normal and my children’s attempts to kill me or drive me to the brink of insanity, probably so that they could keep the car as late as they want until my husband returned- have failed. I survived hell week.

My daughter has announced that she is, in fact, dating a senior, but that’s a fairly easy fix. Seniors have cars and like to go places. Freshmen do not have cars and aren’t allowed to ride in cars with boys, so this should all work itself out as far as I’m concerned.

My oldest son took the car to a meeting with The National Guard and once again started talking responsibly. He told me I was lucky that he’s interested in The National Guard, because now that means he can’t start using steroids- so basically, he threw me a bone, thanks kiddo!

My younger son hasn’t caused a single problem all week and to honest, I thought he would be the one, but he switched it up on me and was the most responsible person in our home this week. I feel as though he picked up on my malfunctioning brain due to his brother and sister and he, too, threw me a bone- and that’s something to be very thankful for!!

Even the dog tried to act up while my husband was gone, but he’s all cool now that daddy is home. However, I’m pretty sure I heard him whispering “mommy’s crazy” into my husband’s ear, but maybe I’m just being paranoid and delusional- he could have been saying something else I suppose.

Now to get things back on track- my daughter is face painting at the Halloween carnival this evening and I think we’ll go hang around and act like a normal family, like daddy-o was never gone.

Now just one thing I’m mulling over today. A friend of mine asked me to come and hold her hand this evening while she gets her first tattoo. I had to decline due to the carnival, but told her I would be there in spirit, which has left me pondering- what the hell does that even mean? I’m not going to be there; she’s not going to feel like I’m there or pretend that I’m there, and I’m certainly not going to pretend that I’m there, so what the hell good does it do her if I tell her I will be there in spirit? The last time I heard, spirits were what are known as ghosts. Am I haunting my friend this evening? And would anyone actually want someone’s spirit with them while they had a tattoo needle grinding into their back? I’m pretty sure my dear friend would rather I kept my spirit- ass away from her while she gets inked so therefore, I am doing her a huge favor.

Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂


Day two of my husband being away for business has shaped itself right into, well, let’s just say…STICK A FORK IN MY EYE! Today, my oldest son was the first one to catch a ride on the crazy train and, instead of allowing me to smile and wave as he went- he tied me to the side of the train and drug me along the side as he went on and on about how he should probably start taking steroids, because- he’s twenty years old and has no desire to look fifteen for the rest of his life. HA! Tell me that shit when you’re forty and you look forty, kiddo!

He does this sometimes. It starts off completely innocent and even went as far today to  laugh and tell me he mostly does it to get me all worked up and to make me mad. But then…he latches on when I try to tell him how stupid that would be and how dangerous it is- he then tries to explain to me how, although he’s not actually planning to do steroids, I have no idea what I’m talking about. What sort proof do I have that steroids have ever actually been linked to someone ending up dead or with any kind of health problems?

His theory is that nobody ever hears anything bad about steroids until someone does something bad and happens to be using steroids, so everyone blames the actions on steroid use. He also informed me, quite confidently that, “this is not 1902 where people are just mindlessly putting stuff into their bodies without knowing the proper way to use it.” I must say, I instantly agreed with him. He’s right about one thing. It’s not 1902, and as a mother, I had to remind him that it is, in fact, 2013, where people are eating bath salts, and seem to be okay with mindlessly putting that into their bodies.

Once my headache set in good, I dropped him off with his brother to play basketball while I took my daughter to get that makeup she so desperately needed and to get some groceries. Just in case you can’t sense my level of frustration, let me give you a list of what I ended up with…keep in mind, I wasn’t there to grab a couple of things- I needed serious groceries.

Not counting my daughter’s makeup…

Laundry detergent
Dish Soap
Shampoo and Conditioner
Stain Remover
1 bag of Chicken Nuggets
1 box of Ramen Noodles
1 can of Chicken Noodle Soup
4 Hot Pockets
8 baby red potatoes
1 box of waffles
2 bottles of Dr. Pepper (the real kind-not the usual, Dr. Topper)

If the items in the bag were any indication- we’d be having some sort of soap for dinner. My brain hurt so bad that I had no clue what I wanted to buy. All the time I was supposed to be going over it in my head was already spent discussing steroids. It reminded me of when we first got into the car and as my son grabbed the radio dial I said, “please, just wait, give me a moment.” He shot back with, “what’s wrong with you that you can’t turn on the radio as soon as we get into the car anyway? What is so important on your mind that you can’t hear music?” I tried explaining that what I was thinking was:

Where in the hell is the dog? Why has he been gone so long and what will happen to him if I leave without finding him and the little screwball has to stay outside until we return?
What do I need from the grocery store?
Do I have my phone?
Where is my purse? Oh good there it is; did I put my money in there before I carried it out of the house?
Is the guy delivering gravel to our driveway still going to show up today?
If I leave our tiny dog out, and the gravel guy shows up- will he see him and not run him over with the truck?
When is my husband coming home?
Come to think of it, every time he leaves without me, a dog either runs away or gets hit by a car. We only have one dog this time, no spare- so this can’t be happening.
What is that thumping? For the love of GOD, PLEASE turn that radio off for one solid minute while I clear my head!!!

That’s what’s wrong with me. That’s what I’m thinking, all at once. And if that’s not enough- I’m about to leave two boys together in a public place on a basketball court, that once called the police on each other over a single chicken nugget before I could get home from work after the school bus had dropped them off. Yes- it was a long time ago, yes- they were a lot younger then; but you don’t forget that shit easy. It’s right there with you as you drive away from them.

Time for bed- my daughter wants me to bring her a towel…right this minute, and thinks I should know that her frog is going to need more water in it’s tank. My youngest son wants my daughter to get out of the bathroom so he can shower. My husband is on the phone wanting to speak with me and I don’t know what room my oldest son disappeared to, but I know that stupid PS3 is on in the living room unattended, playing the same tune over and over and over!

Oh yeah, and I had a can of Ravioli for breakfast and a snack wrap for lunch/dinner- but clearly, I only think of myself. My daughter just came in here and told me how SHE’S running on three hours of sleep, and I think she was wanting sympathy from me. I can’t tell anymore??

These are grown children, people!! And you thought toddlers were assholes…

Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂