Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Shit! What do you mean I have a blog? And I haven't posted anything in twenty days?????

Mea culpa.... My only defense is......a little too much holiday cheering, perhaps....

Anyway....a glimpse into the spirits that invade our holiday house:

My 26 year old neice showed up at the annual Holiday Hoe-down with a new man in tow... He looks about 14 years old...Think Harry Potter in the first movie!!!!!... Our little Harry even had the glasses to match!

He (the new boy toy, not the real Harry Potter) came over to me and asked ,""Do you mind if I make myself a drink?"

I said, "No," as I led him to the expansive bar that is my kitchen island in the off season....."What would you like?" I inquired....

But apparently Harry Potter the second? He must have forgotten his hearing aid, ' cause he heard "When were you born? " I hope....

Because when I asked "What would you like?"

He totally yelled out, "December 22, 1988!" Making him 21 legal drinking years old for all of four days!!!!!!!


Thursday, December 10, 2009

Stuff This In Your Stocking

Ah, that Christmas spirit!

***Note to our kids---This post involves your parents AND sex- --read at your own risk or risk stabbing your eyes out with a dull knife in an attempt to rid yourself of the images to follow :

Who am I kidding? They don't even read this!

It's time to stuff those stockings for the spawn of our loins, and quite frankly, what do you get for boys aged 13 to 22 that fits in an over sized fur lined sock? Now, step daughters (when I had some) were easy- lipstick, nail polish, emery boards....the list was endless. Boys? Not so much.

So I came back to what works best in our little clan....lottery tickets!!!!
I sprung my brilliant idea on the mountain man...

"I can get each of them a stack of lottery scratch offs, they don't even have to be wrapped! And I can shop at that little smoke filled cigar/lotto store where the people look like they haven't moved from in front of that Quick Pick machine in years! And it's right next to the liquor store! I can do our shopping too! Win! Win!"

"I don't know if lottery tickets is ideal for a thirteen year old, mysuestories", speaks the voice of Christmas Scrooge.

"Why ever not?" After all, I grew up doing my home work in bingo halls and bowling alleys. By the age of six, we all knew you couldn't yell "BINGO" yourself, but had to discreetly whisper to Mom that "Hey, MOM!!!!!I HAVE BINGO!!!!!!!" -Have you ever even heard a six year old whisper? Not possible!
Anyway, why not indeed? I turned out just fine, didn't I? Hmmm, maybe that's not the best selling point..

"Mountain man, is it because (((shudder))) you have suddenly developed an inner moral compass and think lottery tickets could lead our cherub to a future life of gambling?" Acquiring a moral compass at this point in our marriage would not be a good thing for mysuestories.

"Hell, no, mysuestories. It's not the gambling that bothers me. Can you imagine if he won millions of dollars? We'd never live it down. And we'd be at his mercy!!"

It's true. The only thing that keeps the gamester in line is that he depends on us, you know, for food, for shelter, to feed his video game addiction. If he were the one with all the cash.....
The gamester: "Mom, I'm taking the limo to Disneyland. See ya next week. And if you can't get the new video system for me while I'm away, I can always buy a mom who can...."


Mountain man: "Gamester, that grass needs to be cut."
The gamester: "I know. Mom's doing it for me. She needed some extra cash for a new pair of shoes, so I hired her."


mysuestories: "Gamester, did you shovel out your room yet?"
Gamester: "It's covered. My new maid will be in on Tuesday. Oh, and there's a homework guy coming in on Monday to finish that book report...."


Oh, the horror that would be this household! I guess I'll just stuff his stocking with fireworks instead. Less mayhem that way!

Oh, and that parental sex scene you were waiting for, oh faithful reader? That's one way to get my kids not read a Christmas spoiler!!!!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

World Aids Day- Or Ouch! Don't Stick Me With That Needle!

A mysuestories first, constant reader....I bring to you today a Public Service Announcement:

insert Law & Order theme music here-

Today, December 1st, is .

Now, we here at mysuestories manor are not crusaders (at least not in the blogosphere), nor do we(me) preach, protest, persuade, or beg for money. (OK, OK, I may beg for money on occasion. Sadly? It's not working so far-- If ever there is a particular chant or rant that inspires you in any way to actually send cash this way? Please do not hesitate to let me know. 'Cause I can be bought- and cheap, too.....Just sayin')

Anyway, back to World Aids Day....I find it a little sad that I had to learn of this day through blog reading at (Constant reader? She's real good...not mysuestories good, don't let her 1,500 plus readers sway you.....Just make sure you come back here when you're done clicking on her link...OK? Promise? I'll wait. Go ahead. Don't be afraid. Of course I am afraid. Afraid you'll flat leave me for her. Like the third friend at a fifth grade sleepover. But I am willing to take that chance. After all, hers is a good message.......But you will be back, won't you?- God, I hated the fifth grade)

Anyway, hopefully you came back to me. Otherwise, I may as well be typing on air here....Oh, well, it's not like I've ever stopped talked when people have clearly stopped listening, now is it?

Anyway, I felt I had to get that out there. Although I am still not sure if it is a good thing that Aids has moved off the front pages of mainstream media or not. I'd like to think we have just about stamped this disease out, but after reading I am afraid that is just my own wishful thinking out loud.

And then I got depressed. And then I did what I always do when things get too deep and emotionally charged. I try to lighten the mood.

So, dear reader (if you are still with me), dear no one (if not)- here is mysuestories Aids Day story:

About fifteen years ago, the exes' (husband and step-children of the decade- some decades are better left forgotten, no?) and I all took a ride upstate to visit Great Uncle Hank. Now Hank was 97, his bride Gertie was a spry 89 (and she took great joy in sharing her youthful age with you!). They lived alone in the home in which they had raised their three Irish sons(good drinkers, all of them- twas a fine Irish parenting job, it was).

There had been some talk of moving them closer to their kids, and removing what independence they had left, but Hank and Gertie would hear none of it. We visited them in their home, and after pre-dinner cordials (hey, they were Irish, dammit!) we went out to dinner, where Hank and Gertie entertained us with tales of the past week:

The day before we had arrived, Hank woke up and couldn't find his car keys. He was a little upset, thinking that perhaps his kids and their constant badgering on about their folks needing more help as they aged might actually be right. He shrugged off such foolishness, and did what any individual looking for their keys would do...he retraced his steps...and lo and behold, he found them, right where he left them...In the ignition of his car, which he had left running all night long the night before!
Gas prices be damned! At least he had found the keys, and his kids would never be the wiser!!!!

Over the course of dinner (and three more calls of "Whiskey- Neat!" for Uncle Hank - He was Irish, remember? This was not elder-abuse!) Aunt Gertie was recounting a recent doctor's visit for Uncle Hank, in which he was pronounced "fit as a fiddle". Great news, we agreed, but Gertie also let on that Hank refused to allow the physician to draw routine blood samples.

"Why ever not?", we inquired diligently.
"Because, " Uncle Hank informed us, at his ripe old age of 97....He was not going to take a chance on being infected by a contaminated needle with the HIV virus, a virus that in the 1980's took twenty years to kill you..... Yep, old Uncle Hank wasn't taking any chances of befalling an ill fate at the hands of his physicians at the impossible age of one hundred and seventeen!!! just had to love Uncle Hank's optimism, if not his medical ignorance!

Well, that's the best I can do. Besides make a donation at .
Because my stories may not cure much of anything, other than a bad day, but a donation to a good cause? Priceless!