Hee Hee......

Okay. So here is an interesting way to take care of this problem.....too bad he's like every other man and won't finish the job. When I was pregnant, this chore of removing the garden became quite a gamble. Because I am obviously some cross between the contortionist and the bearded lady at the circus, not only am I abnormally hairy but also abnormally klutzy. Add a few(haha) pounds and a big round stomach, and I didn't even see that garden for months. I'm sure it was like a blind man's tomato patch.....but I tried anyway, for the sake of the gynecologist. And he probably didn't even care. My friend was also pregnant at the same time but is one of those tall perfect people that just grow a basketball under their clothes and are back in their size one jeans the next week. I, personally, 16 months later, am almost back down to my full blown pregnancy weight! Yay! Anyway, she one time said to me, "I just use a mirror." That had never even occurred to me. So I tried it. Considering that I am also almost blind, very topheavy and have no depth perception, the mirror made me nearly fall down in the shower. I just went back to feeling my way through it and trying not to amputate anything important. I was glad of that when there were fourteen people suddenly observing my v-jay jay during the birth of my son. Obviously, they didn't know the work I had gone to, because everything was shaved....but trust me....it takes a really long time to shave 70% of a cow.

This tattoo here makes me wonder if this woman has a bird and eggs tattooed in her armpits. Or something worse.

Talk about Crazy

As your local Crazy Person I would like to introduce you to a very nonsecret society that dwells deep within our community. It dwells deep because it has no money to go out. Obviously, I am talking here about the Cass County Society for Immoral Repeat Breeders. There are only a few qualifications for membership, those being that you must have three children or more, all with different fathers. Or if you're a manwhore, all with different mothers.
While I was pregnant with my fourth child, I quit going to the grocery store in my own town. I bought a ring, and married myself so complete strangers wouldn't look at me with disdain in the check out line and either ask, 'are you married?' or, 'Don't you know what causes this?' Of course my answer wasn't always polite, and consisted of some generally smart ass comment like 'yeah, Captain Morgan and Nyquil!' and then fuming all the way home because people think they have the right to judge you. Even though it was not true, several times I told rude people that I used to have a husband and he died in Iraq. That shut them up pretty quick. But then I bought the ring, married myself, and voila, no more questions. I have a few friends that are also charter members in the CCSIRB, and they will all tell you the same thing. Nobody did it on purpose. We're not Rosie o'freakin Donnell here. We didn't go spend a bunch of money on fertility treatments, we are not 'proud single mothers that planned and chose to have a baby'. We are broke ass poor women who once in a while, like maybe two times a year, get out of the house. We screw one time, and can be on birth control, use a rubber, spray the whole goddamn man down with spermicidal jelly, douche immediately like thirteen times, and take the morning after pill.....and three weeks later, we are puking looking at a pink stick going, 'you've got to be kidding me.' Actually, I was a little skeptical of the whole tubal ligation procedure....I'm pretty sure a determined sperm could find it's way there somehow. He said he was going to leave four inches of space between the ends of my tubes, but if I have no uterus, or ovaries, then there is no chance that I could be guilty yet again of immoral repeat breeding. But, since I started the society, I feel I should tend to it. I convinced the current and founding members that because they are also man lovin baby machines they should belong. It's nice to belong somewhere. Of course none of our children can ever date in Cass County, and maybe also the other surrounding counties because several of us are bastardly related and God only knows how many other children our children are bastardly related to. In fact, this is such a small town that one pudgy nonfavorite seed spreader has propgated at least five fields that we know of. That we KNOW of! There are many women that would never, ever admit to being in that club. So, you see, no longer is it mandatory, if you tell your children apart by their last names, to move to Alabama and begin calling yourself 'mammy'. You can just join us here, at the Cass County Society for Immoral Repeat Breeders.