Could you survive this?
This is what was left of Brother's right leg after the doctors stopped cutting on it. If you don't remember those stories you can check them out here, here and here.
He was really lucky that he only lost his little toe.
He still continues to have treatment on the leg and everyone he comes in contact with just shakes their head. Totally unbelieveable!
Yes, it did look totally unbelieveable. But, not now!
So, I guess to answer the question, "Could you survive this?" I'm not sure about me, but Brother can answer that question with an emphatic "YES!"
Friday, July 31, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
|I had to take an unexpected short road trip this weekend to meet my sister halfway to drop my niece off so she could go back home after spending a few weeks with her Grandma. After the exchange Mom and I decided that we would take the long way back home and ended up in Somerset, Kentucky on the fourth Saturday of the month. If you live anywhere within a 200 mile radius of Somerset you know that's the night they have a Cruise-in. Every old car from a Model T to a '57 Chevy to a '65 Mustang all the way up to souped up Monte Carlos and imitation Gravediggers were not only on display but were cruising up and down Highway 27.
Luckily, we had driven my super cool and hot-looking dark red mustang and before you knew it we were cruising with all of the other hot rods. If you've never had a Mustang then you probably didn't know that everybody, all the time, wants to see what your car can do. It kinda gets old when 16-year-old pimply faced boys in 4-cylinder Civics want to take on the MA Fat Woman in her sexy red car. Give it up! You will not beat me in a zero to 60 burst of speed and you will be eating my dust.
There is a specific reason that I wanted to go to Somerset and that's because it has the most southern Gold Star Chili restaurant. If you're not from the Cincinnati area then you don't know what I'm referring to. If you're from there then you know that you'll do most anything to get your chili fix. Different parts of the country all have specific foods that the locals just can't live without, even when they move away. My addiction just so happens to be a 3-way spaghetti and a cheese coney, no onions and mustard, of course.
Anyhow, after we had enjoyed our meal we decided that we would get an ice cream to help settle our stomachs. See, there's two thing about Cincinnati style chili: You always gets stains on your shirt from eating it and you usually have a small case of heartburn, or maybe a belch or two to let out.
We found us an outside bench to eat our ice cream and continued to watch the cars go past, admiring the different models and varied colors. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a '55 or '56 model Chevy drove past. I didn't really know what color it was. I looked at Mom and said "What color is that?"
"Titty pink!" she said.
"It's titty pink," she said. "At least that's what we used to call it back in the '50s."
Friday, July 24, 2009
|...back to what I was saying. I had gotten on a casino's address list somehow and they kept sending me offers for free rooms and free food so I decided that I would take them up on their offer. I mentioned to the gathered crowd of fourteen that I would be leaving the beach house for a few days for a little adult entertainment and was wondering if anyone wanted to tag along. I was somewhat surprised when every hand in the room shot straight up including the youngest child there, and she was only seven.
Good heavens! I was trying to get away from the crowd (and sleeping on the short U-shaped couch which everyone said they wouldn't have a problem sleeping on (nobody volunteered) and sleeping on the blow up air mattress that threatened to envelop me like a hot dog every time I moved a muscle) and the crowd wanted to come with me.
Most peculiar of all was the fact that Sister seemed to be the most animated of the group. She was straining in her chair and was bouncing up and down saying, "ooh, ooh, take me. I wanna go!" I didn't think that she would want to go? She likes having everyone around and had already secured the east wing of the beach house as her own. I mean it's really Sister's vacation, the rest of us just tag along to keep her company.
I'm not sure my Sister likes the beach so much. She has a very light complexion, freckles and red hair. She spends approximately two minutes on the beach each year and that's only when the sun is completely down and there's no moon. She will occasionally glance out the window and check out the ocean for dolphins. She has never been confused for a sun worshipper and even wears a wide-brimmed hat when she's inside. Just in case, she says.
Anyhow, I couldn't simply decide who was going to accompany me to Biloxi so the family decided that they would draw straws and Mom was the lucky winner. Another one of my friends went the first night and then we swapped people and Mom stayed the last two nights. Sister decided that she didn't want to go after all, she might miss one of the sunny days at the beach. (I didn't really understand that statement, but somehow, I guess it made sense...)
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
|...like I was saying, I was the adult in the car and I was doing most of the complaining. In fact, I kept asking if we were there yet so many times that I put them girls to sleep or they pretended to be anyways.
To answer a few questions about the previous post. It seems that a few of my readers didn't understand my paragraph about putting on for my city...eastside...blah, blah, blah and no alcohol. The first item was a reference to a song by 'Lilwayne or John Wayne, maybe even Tpain, I'm not sure, and the second song was by Jamie Foxx. I can tell you that both of those songs were in HEAVY rotation at every radio station between here and Pensacola.
The next item in question was a car game that my family used to play in the car when we were traveling. One person says "my father owns a grocery store and in this store he sells something that begins with ?" and it's usually some obscure food like tomatilloes or the such. The other occupants have to guess what it is and whoever guesses correctly gets to have a turn.. If you hadn't heard of that car game now you have a new game to play in your car. It's all good!
We had changed locations this year and decided to go south to Florida instead of east to the Outer Banks. Brother decided that he would be accompanying us on vacation this year and that threw a whole other wrench into the fire. My sister is a lot like Mom used to be in the fact that she believes in the more, the merrier where vacation is concerned. Me, not so much. I'm more along the lines of two's a party and three's a crowd, and fourteen people, well, you can forget that, I'm going to Biloxi...
Friday, July 17, 2009
I bet you've been wondering what I've been doing since I got back from vacation? Besides obsessing over my bad tomato the title of this post pretty much sums it up.
I've been recovering from fat feet, the flu, and hemorrhoids.
TMI? (Too much information for the uninitiated.)
If you've been a regular reader here at MA Fat Woman, you know that we like to reflect on many different topics. If you're new, well, I just told you that we like to reflect on many different subjects.
First of all, I would like to send a BIG GET WELL to my friend Joe at Crotchety Old Man Yells At Cars, he's a little under the weather.
On to other things. It seems the older I get, the less I'm able to sit for long periods of time without getting fat feet.
What are fat feet, you may ask?
All of the above, actually!
I just call it fat feet and no matter how I try to prevent it, I'm able to retain about a pound of fluid for every hour I'm in the car, and all of it in my feet.
It took us about 8 hours to get down to the beach house. In the time I spent riding with 2 teenagers, watching my feet get fatter by the mile, I put on for my city...eastside...westside...southside, on, on for my city. I got clobbered by blaming it on the Al-ah-ah-al-ah-alcohol, blame it on the rock, blame it on the hinny? Somebody wanted to take a ride on my disco stick? (I didn't have one the last time I checked.)
My father owns several grocery stores and you'd be amazed at what they sell in there these days. I spotted several Volkswagen Beetles and was punch buggied, no punch back to the point of tossing a couple kids into Mobile Bay.
Did I mention 8 hours in the car? You do the math--8 hours equals eight pounds of fluid. Not to mention if I heard one more 'Are we there yet' or 'I'm bored'. Oh wait, that was me! Kids really don't know what to do when it's an adult doing all of the complaining...
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I don't know what It is but It sure is stinky.
I keep smelling the cat and he keeps sniffing me.
It ain't the litter box; I've been changing it like 10 times a day.
I've checked my own smelly areas out and there doesn't seem to be any more abnormal smells than usual. I asked Mom to give me a sniff but she just shook her head and walked away.
I started to ask Brother if he wanted to smell me but he told me that I had smelled for years, turned around and then farted in my direction and said this, "Here, smell this!" and walked away.
I've checked the space between the stove and the counter because food can drop down through the gap.
I've checked the refrigerator and there isn't any moldy stuff.
The toilet keeps flushing correctly; no backup in the tub or sink.
I went down in the basement because that's where it seems to be emanating from. It's an earthen basement and there's lots of creepy crawly stuff.
The cat seems to be doing a lot of sniffing near the dryer vent. Maybe something came in through there.
Anyhow, I'm on my second can of Lysol and if the smell doesn't break soon, I'm gonna have to call in the professionals.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
|The scene--Any small town in a state that doesn't allow fireworks, namely Georgia.
A guy walks into his local courthouse and asks where he can get a permit. The guard sends him down to the permit office. There is a really long line and only one window open. He admits to himself that this permit thing must be a pretty good idea, 'cause everyone here seems to be getting one. After all, on July 4th, he always hears fireworks going off all over town, so, they must have a permit, right?
The man finally reaches the counter after one lunch break, and two smoke breaks and asks the lady about applying for a permit. She pulls out the forms and said that the fee was going to be $500.00. He scratches his head and thought that that sounded like a lot of money. "Ma'am, why does it cost so much to get a permit to let off fireworks," he asked?
"Let off fireworks," she said. "Don't you know that is illegal in this state?"
The man scratched his head once again and then asked, "What are all of these people here for?"
"Sir, this is the tag office," she said.
The man, quite confused by this time, looks up and asks, "Where does the city get its permit to let off fireworks for the community each year?"
The lady, quite at a loss for words looks up and says, "Wait right here, I'm gonna go get my supervisor."
Enjoy your 4th of July wherever you are and remember this: Let the professionals shoot off the fireworks, because they have a permit. Just don't ask to see it.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
|What is red, burnt, and has spots all over?
I've got a red nose, a sun burned back and more freckles than I can count.
I'm still on vacation having a great time!
Wish you were here...not really, well, maybe?
Let me think on it and I'll get back to you...next week some time!
MA Fat Woman