Only Trollops Shave Above the Knee

Here we go!!! This book is NOW ON SALE!! I'm very excited to be a part of this great collaboration of stories compiled from the lessons we've learned from our mothers! My story is one of realization, of surprise to learn that she was right after all! Moms are pretty smart, and mine is pretty freaking awesome. I can't wait to give her a copy of this book. 

How about you? Do you know someone amazing who loves to laugh, cry and enjoy a great book? This will make a fantastic Mother's Day gift, so order now!

Buy it on Kindle here.

Buy it in paperback here.

Want a signed copy??? I'd be happy to sign and send you a copy. Also, if you buy it from me, you get a free Snarkfest bookmark at no extra charge!! Just click this link and fill in the details!

Share this post with someone you think would enjoy reading this book and when you've read it, please feel free to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Trust me, it helps more than you know!

Offense: Is it Taken or is it Given?

The internet: It's chock full of information. There is happiness and sadness. It can be a wonderful tool for keeping in touch, keeping in contact with family and friends. And it can be a source of anger and ire where arguments abound. The internet is not to be entered into lightly. A thick skin is a must.

Borrowed from FB Troublemakers. Or Rebel Circus. Hard to tell. Either way, I thank them.

Wow, that's pretty deep stuff for a sarcastic humor blogger, isn't it? Yes, yes it is. And I AM a sarcastic blogger. I rant, I curse, some would say I'm offensive at times. But am I? Do I offend or is it that things I say are taken to heart by sensitive people whose feelings are easily hurt?

It has not now nor has it ever been my intention to hurt anyone's feelings. But sometimes it happens. Sometimes I may say something to offend. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's not. I have a tendency to speak first (okay, type first) and I don't actually THINK about whether what I say could be offensive to someone out there reading my stuff. It's part of my quick wit, I can't help it. But do I intend my words to be offensive? No, I don't. But are they? Yep, apparently, they are.

Take for example, a post made by my friends and fellow authors at the blog It's Really 10 Months. Before Easter, they posted something on their Facebook page about non-traditional Easter basket goodies. If you don't want the Easter Bunny to bring candy, what other items would you suggest. Me, in all my sarcastic wit, jokingly suggested:  "Crack, guns and some clean needles." 27 people 'liked' that comment. One simply posted "not funny" which I totally get. I'm not everyone's cup of cocoa. One person, however, took HUGE offense, replying:  "That's not funny, snarkfest. is that what you give out? Im happy im not related to you."  (HER typos, not mine. Everyone knows 'Snarkfest' is ALWAYS capitalized)

Seriously, people. It. Was. A. Joke. And for the record, I'm glad I'm not related to her either. Typos like that make me itchy. Did I set out to intentionally piss her off? Nope. Did she take offense? Yep. Was that my intention? Nope. Should I care that one person got a hair up her ass over a post I made? If I did, I'd then have to censor everything that came out of my mind. I don't want to have to do that.

Again, I borrowed this from Facebook. Don't sue me

I have another friend who wrote a post about how important it is for businesses to use correct grammar and punctuation. The post, 'Trust me -- it DOES matter..." was a very well-written piece but contained the term "Grammar Nazi". We joked about whether or not some overly sensitive folks would be offended by the term Grammar Nazi. I'm half Jewish on my Dad's side. Should I take offense to that term? No, because in MY opinion, there's nothing offensive about it.

But again, that's MY opinion. I'm entitled to that opinion. EVERYONE is entitled to their own opinion, that's what makes America a great country. If we lose our right to an opinion, the terrorists win... or something like that.

My point is,  people are going to take offense to anything and everything. It's human nature. But do I set out to BE offensive? No. I don't GIVE offense. My friend Fiona, when discussing this issue, told me this: "Offense is taken, not given." And she's 1000% correct.

People like Howard Stern,  Lisa Lampanelli, Andrew Dice Clay and Daniel Tosh are not everyone's cup of tea. If you are offended by something that they say, then don't watch/listen/read. They speak, but not everyone is offended. Some are amused and entertained. But some don't enjoy dick jokes. Those people take offense. They TAKE OFFENSE. But does that mean that those comedians shouldn't say the things they say? NO, because we live in America, land of free speech. If you don't like something that you hear/see but it's not actually causing physical harm to anyone: change the channel.  It's simple really.

I'm going to end with this: I've used the term 'fucktard' a lot. It is NOT a term I use to mock those with Downs Syndrome. It has NOTHING to do with Downs Syndrome. It has everything to do with people being complete and total assholes on a lower than low scale. Some may find it offensive. I can't help that. But my friend who has a son with Downs Syndrome laughs her ass off when I use that term. I've used it to describe her pig scumbag of an ex-husband (actually, comparing her ex-husband to a pig is probably offensive to pigs. Sorry, pigs). So I'm using her, one of my best friends, as a gauge. If she, a mother of a son with Downs Syndrome, takes no offense to my using that term, that's good enough for me. If others take offense to the term, that's not on me. I'm not GIVING it, they are taking it.

If you have stuck with me through this post and will continue to enjoy my stuff, then I thank you. If you have read this blog post and have taken offense to any part of it, then I suggest you and I part ways, because if I censor myself to avoid anyone taking offense, then I am not being true to myself. I don't lie, it's not who I am.

If you have enjoyed my writing, but don't like this particular post, come back tomorrow, when I may have something completely unoffensive to say. That's the beauty of the internet.

A Tale of Two Weeks...

Technically it's only one week. But this is a story of last week from two different perspectives: My eyes and teenage eyes.

Last Monday, I dropped 17 and 15 off at school where they were loading up three charter buses to haul 100+ marching band members plus dozens of chaperones down to Walt Disney World for Spring Break. I was not one of those chaperones. I wanted to be, but the cost was just too much, given the fact that I was sending two kids down already. A third ticket to ride would've meant that some lucky bill collector would be calling us some rude names. I opted not to go on this trip. Here's why I am fine with/hate that decision.

Teenage eyes: Absolutely and thoroughly excited at the chance to head to Orlando for a week of fun in the sun with friends. Getting to spend hours in the water park or the Magic Kingdom meeting characters, waiting on endless lines for minutes of fun.

My eyes: Watching the kids mill around the band room and seeing the chaperones come in with their suitcases, knowing that they'd get the opportunity to watch my children having the time of their lives.  The knot grows bigger and bigger in my stomach. It becomes pure torture for me to watch others loading up while I stand by on the sidelines, not a part of this experience.

Teenage eyes: Dear sweet baby Jesus are we there yet??

My eyes: Thank GOD I'm not on a charter bus driving 18 hours to Orlando, FL.

Teenage eyes: Excitement mounting as they all congregate backstage at the Magic Kingdom, dressing in their band uniforms, warming up, preparing to step off and march in the Main Street Electrical Parade. And after taking that parade by storm, getting to watch the amazing fireworks show afterwards.

My eyes: Looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until 9:45 p.m., which is step-off time for the band to begin the march down Main Street, performing in my favorite parade in Walt Disney World.  Getting chills just imagining how amazing this experience is for my girls, and getting sad that I can't be there to enjoy it, enjoy them, enjoy the experience first hand. Disney is our place, a place we'd go every year if we could afford it. I want to be there so badly that I'm physically aching inside. At 10:30 the first pictures are posted to Facebook and I break down in tears. Proud tears, yes, but also tears of self-pity and selfishness. I should've gone. I should've just said "to hell with fiscal responsibility, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I should be there dammit!" But knowing in my heart (and my bank account) that this week is NOT about me. It's TOTALLY about my girls, and their friends and the marching band. I should be ashamed for being so jealous of everyone there while I sit at my computer looking at videos of my girls and crying. I feel torn.

Teenage eyes: Dread at getting back on the charter buses at 10:00 at night knowing full well how long the trip home will be, and leaving what has been one of the most exciting times of their young lives.

My eyes: At least I can sleep in my own bed tonight and not on a charter bus for 18 hours.

My girls.

Teenage eyes: Oh God I've never been so happy to see this high school in my entire life. Thank GOD I'm off that charter bus and if I never see another charter bus again it'll be too soon. I just want to go home, shower and get into my own bed!

My eyes: Thank God my girls are home safe and sound and I can't wait to hear every detail about their week (well, the details they're willing to share with old Mom). I hope they want to sit and chat with me all day long!

I'm someplace else today, come see me!

About a thousand years ago I wrote my very first blog post. It was awkward. But I wrote it and I'm so proud of it. Today, my friend Stacey over at Nurse Mommy Laughs is featuring the blog post that popped my proverbial cherry. Go have a look and leave me some feedback. Tell me I'm pretty and that you want to give my chocolate for being brave enough to write about taking my teenage daughters bathing suit shopping.

Here's a teaser......

Let me tell you about the weekend that I had the pleasure (read: abject HORROR) of trying bathing suits on with my daughters, who at the time were 14 & 12. It was Mother's Day weekend, and I had a 30% off coupon for Kohls. We were planning on a trip to Disney, and we all needed new bathing suits. After grabbing about $145,835 worth of regular clothing we moved on to bathing suits. They went first, and I grabbed a pile and when I walked into our dressing room, I stood with my mouth gaping wide open, staring at these two unbelievably gorgeous shapely, stunning girls and wondered if I had accidentally entered the wrong room.

Read the rest here.....