What's For Lunch?

Back in the day, on this old TV show, HeeHaw, the audience would
shout: "Hey, Grandpa! What's for supper?" Grandpa would shout
the menu back to them. Come on. Fess up. Some of you have heard
of HeeHaw, haven't you?

Lunch with Hillbilly Mom was a veritable smorgasbord today. My
Hillbilly Husband took #1 son to a birthday party, and #2 son to
his bowling league. I was left to scrounge some leftovers for lunch,
as they would be eating elsewhere. What'd I have? A piece of
roast beast that my Hillbilly Mama prepared for us on Wednesday.
It's still good, isn't it? This is only Saturday. I keep thinking of Homer
Simpson digging his beloved sub sandwich out of the garbage, even
though its toxicity made him hallucinate. He couldn't bear to part with
it--he stroked it like a long-lost puppy.

Also on the menu was a slice of leftover Casey's cheese pizza. Casey's
makes the best pizza--for a convenience store, that is. Then there was
a green bean bacon roll-up thingy on a toothpick. My HM made this,
too. You take some green beans and roll 4 or 5 of them in a piece of
bacon and then I believe you roll it in brown sugar and then soak it
overnight in melted butter. Then you bake it and serve it hot. That can't
be the real recipe, because the melted butter would become unmelted
and then it would be one big beany bacony blob. But it is pretty tasty.
In keeping with the cuisine of my redneck motherland, nothing can be
too greasy or too fatty. Sure, we eat vegetables--if you soak them in
sugar and butter and wrap them in bacon. Oh, and let's not forget my
dessert: a fun-size Baby Ruth. So I am kind of full right now.

I didn't have to eat leftovers for lunch. I did run to town for a quick
stop at Save-A-Lot for some baby wipes, the miracle cleaner of
shoe soles (lots of that red rock on the playground) and white boards
(blackboards are so 10-minutes-ago) and believe it or not, even babies'
butts. No, I don't have a baby's butt to clean, but one of my students
pointed that out as I was cleaning the board and extolling the value
of a good baby wipe. While I was at the store, I also picked up some
bread and cheese and Little Debbie Cosmic Brownies (the breakfast
of champions) and bananas and ham-for-lunches and bread and
salsa and lettuce and Juicy Fruit and Winterfresh gum. So I could
have picked up something for lunch.

I went to Sonic to feed my Large Cherry Diet Coke addiction. I could
have picked up something there. After 10 minutes in line, I was starting
to wish I had. Because I was really hungry. Why? Because it was 1:08
pm, and my school lunchtime is 10:53 am. Oh, and it is actually 10
freakin' 40 am, because our clocks are set 13 minutes ahead of time
in the real world, due to bus issues. But don't y'all worry about me.
I'm not going to waste away. I could live for a couple years on my
fat stores.

The Sonic Large Cherry Diet Coke started some issues. It was not
my regular Sonic guy making the soda today. On Wednesday, he
rubbed his finger across my palm when he gave me my 17 cents
change. I am not making this up. That kid has a bad case of "gotta-
get-me-some-Hillbilly-Mom-itis." Today it was the kind of homely
girl who is really nice, but doesn't make such good soda. She
tried to make up for it the other day by putting in 6 cherries, but it
wasn't the same. Today the cups had some kind of funk on the outside.
I didn't notice it until I was home. It was not the usual condensation,
but something more sinister and slimy. I'm hoping that maybe she
just sneezed or something before picking up the cups. I don't want
to think it was anything worse. I noticed it right after preparing my
lunch. Maybe it was some fat on my hands from slicing the roast
beast or picking up the green bean roll-up. Maybe.

Oh, and did I tell you? When I took my green bean roll-up out of
the microwave, there was a long black hair on the plate. My HM
has red hair, so she was off the hook. And she hasn't mentioned
clubbing with Fabio anymore, so I don't think it came from her
house. That would leave only me as the hair donor. I didn't freak
out. Hey, I had just washed my hair this morning. It is clean.

Are you gagging yet? I really wasn't planning to make you sick.
But sometimes things just don't turn out the way we planned, now
do they? Bon appetite!

The Orange Coat Girl Soliloquy

Hello? Yoohoo? Anybody? Or hellleeeewwwww! If you are a Seinfeld
fan, you will recognize Jerry's belly-button-man hello. If not, this will
just confirm your belief that I am off my rocker.

I seem to be setting the world on fire lately. Looks like I have the same
effect on y'all as I have on my students. SNORE! OK, so I know my
regular commenters have been busy this week. Rebecca has gone on
a trip, and is not rubbing butter on her stomach and soaking it up with
waffles. Redneck Diva appears to have her hands full of young'uns, and
extricating her mom's hand from a knothole in her sister's closet shelf.
Deadpanann has learned why teachers need the summer off (and if
you're not a teacher, let me tell you--it's because we put in more hours
during the school year than someone working a 40-hour-week all year
long). Rachy must be maxing out on coffee and cigarettes, or busy
snorting red wine out of her nose. That's OK, guys. I know I have not
been the best comment buddy since school started up again.

You can't get rid of me that easily. I know people are still reading,
because a little stat-counter told me so. And they're not all those 5-
seconds-or-less people, either. So I will keep spreading my hillbilly
redneckiness for your blogging pleasure.

My students have been giving me good stuff this week. Don't get me
wrong. I really like my students, as much as they are going to cause
me to require a last-nerve transplant. I do not want to appear to be
making fun of them. I am just trying to point out the absurdities in
their outlooks on life.

Today Orange Coat Girl (it's an endearing little name we gave her
at the teachers' lunch table a couple of years ago) told me she had
a dilemma. No, not really, because she wouldn't know a dilemma
if it bit her on the butt. But she would say "Owww! Something bit
me on the butt!" Anyhoo, OCG said, "Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, my
friend says that at Pizza Hut, they cheat you out of hours and don't
pay you because they don't have a time clock. They just write it
down on a card."

OK, so I had to extract a few teeth to find out what this had to
do with OCG. She went on. "I am thinking about applying there,
because they are going to build a new store, and you have to be
18 to work there, because they are going to serve beer." Time out.
I couldn't squeeze it into her soliloquy, but Pizza Hut serves beer
now, and you have to be 21 to carry it to the table. I don't drink
it, mind you, but I know all about it. I have a friend who drinks it,
you see.

So then OCG goes on to say that by the time that new Pizza Hut
is built, she will be 18, and what if they cheat her on her paycheck?
Who should she complain to? So I know the kid wants an answer,
and I tell her to call down to Job Service, which is technically the
Missouri Division of Employment Security, more commonly called
the Unemployment Office, where I worked for 5 years, and they
should have a phone number she can call. Someone like maybe the
Department of Labor. I can't remember for sure, because I was
too busy with my job of denying people's unemployment benefits.

What I don't have time to point out, because the bell rang, is that
she has some more pressing priorities first, before these what ifs:

1. Get your credits so you can graduate
2. See if that new Pizza Hut gets built
3. Apply for a job
4. Get hired
5. Work the hours you are scheduled
6. See IF they cheat you on your paycheck
7. Ask to discuss it with the supervisor or manager
8. Complain to the Department of Labor

Kids! Can't live with 'em...but you can get some good blog material
from 'em.

Lunchtime Stories

I have the same lunch shift I've had for 7 years now. The freshman
lunch. My dinner companions change, depending on scheduling.
This year I have been removed from all my friends (oops! I just
typed "fiends") and I have lunch with 4 men. Oh, there's another
woman, but she only comes out for duty week, and eats during
another lunch shift with her "fiends." So it's me and the boys.

Today the topic turned to how we had a storm last night, and
Mr. X didn't want to oversleep, even though his alarm has a
battery back-up. Then Mr. W said, "Hey, I've been late a couple
of times because of car accidents. One time I had to call and say
Hey, I'm gonna be a little late, there's a woman in a bush at
the end of my road."

Mr. W looked both ways before pulling out onto the main road,
and saw that woman. He jumped out and ran over, and said,
"Hey, Ma'am...you're lying in a bush." He said at first he was
afraid she might pull a gun and ask for his money and his keys.
He figured since he only had two dollars, it wouldn't matter that
much. She just laid there. Then the ambulance people came, and
started going through her purse and her clothes. He left then. He
wanted no part of that. They said she had some kind of drug
overdose. He didn't know how she got into the bush.

That reminded Mr. Y of a time when the weather was really hot,
and an 80-something neighbor had been out mowing the yard
with a riding mower. Mr. Y drove by later that afternoon and
noticed that Neighbor was not riding the mower. He was lying
on his side on the ground. "Oh, no!" thought Mr. Y. "He's had a
stroke or something!" Mr. Y jumped out and ran over to see if he
could help. Like if he could save the guy's life. Just as he got to
Neighbor, the guy rolled over and said, "What the **** are you
doing?" Seems that Neighbor was checking the belt on his mower.

Good Samaritans. I didn't have a story to share.

Unintentional Joke of the Day

You may have noticed: I do not suffer fools gladly. Five minutes into
class today, these kids were already dissecting my last nerve. I'd told
them to bring the Language I vocabulary words to show me, even if
they were done. The reason being, last time they told me they were
done, yet nobody turned them in to the teacher.

Out of 5 kids, one said, "No, I haven't done them. But I have the word
list." This kid was at that moment doing algebra, so he was off the hook.
The other 4 Language I kids sat idle, declaring that they were caught up
with their work. They had all "left it in their lockers." So I took the word
list from honest lazy kid, and gave it to one of the lying lazy kids, and said,
"Write down the first few, and get to work on them. Give the list to one
of the others."

This kid fiddled about, and then needed a dictionary. We have been in
school for 4 weeks now. He's seen where I keep the dictionaries. He
was absolutely sucking the energy right out of me. I needed that energy
to help someone with American History, my least favorite subject next
to World History. Or maybe Economics. Pilgrims/Puritans/Separatists/
Quakers/Massachusetts/Rhode Island/Pennsylvania/Connecticut. I hate
history. Been there, done that. Why dwell in the past?

"Go get one out of the cabinet," I told him. He meandered over to the
wrong cabinet, where I had leaned my umbrella against the door. He
yanked it open, and guess what...let me answer for you: the umbrella
crashed to the floor. I guess he thought that the law of gravity was
temporarily suspended, what with him about to do some actual work.
"No. Not that cabinet." I looked at some of the older kids in the class.
"Why do I feel like I am babysitting actual babies?" I asked them. One
of the actual babies said, "Because you are."

About this time, the kid opened the correct cabinet, and peered onto
every shelf except the one right in front of him that harbored the
dictionaries. "Wheeerrrrre?" he whined.

"Right there behind the baby wipes!" I barked. Yeah. I really do have
a box of baby wipes in that closet. For cleaning my white board. We
had a good laugh at the timing of the baby statements.

Will I Pass?

Be afraid. Be very afraid for your future. The future that is the youth
of America. When you are old and feeble and demented in a nursing
home, these are the people who will be wiping your butt. Here are
some some of today's conversations...


If I don't do anything all year, will I pass?
No.
Will they hold me back?
This is high school. They don't hold you back.
You mean I will go on and be a sophomore?
You can call yourself anything you want. You can spend four years
doing nothing, and call yourself a senior. But you will still have zero
credits, and must have 24 to graduate.
Will they send me back to 8th grade?
Nooooo...They already sent you over here. They don't want you back.
Good. I did nothing all last year, too.
That's nothing to brag about.
I think when I get to16, I'll quit.
It's good to have a goal in life.
?????????????????????????
Your mom ain't gonna let you quit.
No. But if I move with my other mom and dad, I can.

Sorry, I know it is my job to keep these kids in school, but I just
can't play that game where they want you to beg them not to drop
out. I would rather spend my time helping those who respond and
make an effort.

*************************************************

Are your sinuses in your nose?
No. They're around your cheeks and forehead.
I didn't think so, but there's this know-it-all girl in my class, and
she said I shouldn't pierce my friend's nose because it would mess
up her sinuses.
Didn't you do your own root canal with a paperclip?
Yeah, I got tired of that temporary filling breaking off. It didn't hurt.
I guess the root was dead already. I picked it out.
So now you're branching off into piercings?
Well, my friend went to this guy to get some not really common
piercings, if you know what I mean, and he kept making comments,
and he also pierced her lip and blood poured out all over and he
said it was normal, and it isn't. And then, she found out he was, like,
her boyfriend's stepdad. And he wasn't even licensed!
As opposed to you.
Well, I know what I'm doing.

**************************************************

And then he said I have 30% less brain than everyone else.
Who said that?
The doctor. I went to get tested for ADHD yesterday.
I have ADHD.
You do? I've had it for years. What medicine do you take?
I don't take medicine for it. I just have it.

OK, what is going on around here? Can people still get money for
having kids with some kind of medical problem or learning disability?
Because if I remember right, they used to get a Social Security
disability check for that. So way too many people wanted their kids
tested, and wanted them to have something wrong, so they coached
them on how to act. I thought this had stopped.

Sorry, now I don't have time for the crook and the broken window
and the hit list story. Maybe another day.

Revenge

Have any of you been to Rebecca's site and seen how she stole
my soul for profit?





















It has been said that revenge is a dish best served cold. I prefer
to serve up my revenge piping hot, on a cheap paper plate so
that the grease leaks through, with side orders of boiled possum,
creamed-corn casserole, peas, and deep-fried MUSHROOMS.
Eat up, Bec. This one's for you.

A little bird told me that Rebecca has certain wishes. A little bird
that was kind of pissed off because he was used as a crash dummy
in an experiment designed by the wicked, twisted mind of Rebecca,
and penned by her own evil hand.















That's him on the left. With his pitiful shattered beak, he whispered
the true desires of Rebecca to me, in his last dying breath:

Rebecca wants...her bike back. And she's not getting it. I dismantled
it and buried the evidence in a 55-gallon barrel.

Rebecca wants...to be seen as a normal person, despite her...
life of crime cheating hardware stores out of lumber for her
giant bed.

Rebecca wants...to do 30 things. 28 of them are to embarrass
Hillbilly Mom. Another is to become a MUSHROOM taster
on the "Mushroom or Toadstool: You Be the Judge" reality show.
Lastly, she would like to be hired as an aloe vera tester, because
she just can't get enough of that stuff.

Rebecca wants...to have you over for dinner. That's the good news.
The bad news is that she would like you to bring a nice Chianti and
some fava beans.

Rebecca wants...to be a hacker, but English is a big stumbling block
for her. She might be trying to say she wants to be a hooker. Or
someone who chops up bodies to put in 55-gallon barrels. In any
case, she does not need a block to stumble over, her feet will do.

Rebecca wants...to know what foreigners think about chopsticks.
OK, it will speak for the foreigners: Stop calling us foreigners or
we will jam those chopsticks where the sun don't shine.

Rebecca wants...to make something of herself, but all she knows
how to do is dress well and throw a great party. If by dressing
well you mean wearing size 13 shoes and by throwing a party
you mean eating a whole pizza while rebuilding a giant bed with
lumber that you ripped off from Idiots R Us by distracting the
salesman by dressing so well.

Rebecca wants...the money for a cell phone and a pool. Because
with a cell phone she will look cool, and we all know that cell phones
go with pools like mushrooms go with aloe vera.

Rebecca wants...to buy some cushions, so they go shopping providing
she walks at least 10 yards behind. In case she hits that stumbling block.

Rebecca wants...to run across the minefield successfully, then she would
know where the mines are so she can avoid them. But if she has run
across successfully, why would she need to avoid them? That is why
Rebecca is not allowed to teach Logic courses at university.

Shh...don't tell anyone Bec's secrets. Look what happened to Mr. Birdie.
And that was before he told. I think Mr. Google should join the Witness
Protection Program immediately.

And don't tell her that it is STILL OOOONNNNNNN!!!!! My revenge
has not yet reached its zenith. Oh, you may think you'll be reading about
my boy young 'uns, or my Hillbilly Husband...but then WHAM! It's all
about Rebecca! Bwah ha ha.....

"I'm not so sure you really had pneumonia."

This is what Hillbilly Husband's doctor quacked at him this morning.
Not his real doctor--he was off for the weekend. The doctor who is
in the same practice as HH's doctor, who was covering rounds
for him.

So now, according to all the different doctors, HH must have just
spent 4 days in the hospital for a case of gout. He has had gout
before, and never went to the hospital.

So...he had pneumonia according to a blood test 3 weeks ago. The
doctor forgot to call him and tell him. HH had knee pain and called
the doctor, who told him about the pneumonia, and treated him for
a week with two different antibiotics. AND sent him for an MRI of
the knee. HH's knee quit hurting, but his foot swelled up. He couldn't
walk 10 feet without getting nauseous and short of breath and wheezing.

HH was admitted to the hospital, told he had cellulitis in the foot, and
pneumonia that was not responding to treatment. He was pumped
full of antibiotics, given breathing treatments every 4 hours, told he
had a bone infection in the foot. Or gout.

Now he has nothing but gout, but hasn't been put on a gout diet.
WHAT ARE THESE PEOPLE DOING?????

HH is supposed to come home tomorrow. He finally started feeling
better today. I told him that doctor must not want to be a part of
the untreated pneumonia malpractice suit, so he is denying that HH
ever had it to begin with.

Oh, and for the knee that doesn't hurt anymore? HH has an appointment
with an orthopedic surgeon for Tuesday. He might as well go to a
fortune teller. The diagnosis might be more accurate.

Bad Samaritan

I am a Bad Samaritan. I should be locked up with Jerry and George
and Elaine and Kramer. I saw an accident and I did not stop to help.
Let me try to justify myself. It is a case of mememeitsallaboutme,
but I will try to explain. Travel back in time with me to yesterday...

We headed to town for the boys' bowling league, and then to visit
Invalid Hillbilly Husband at the hospital. As we were on the blacktop
county road, about a quarter-mile from the state road, two 4-wheelers
came whipping out of a new gravel road and onto my side. I had
time to slow down, and the kids yanked the 4-wheelers back onto
their lane. They revved them and sped past us up the hill, side by
side. I told my kids: "No good can come of that. They're going to
get killed driving around like that on this road." It has hills and curves,
and all the cars (except me, of course) drive right in the middle, hills
be darned, because that is what country people do. I am constantly
harping at HH to "get on your own side" because I have had a bad
car wreck (like there's such thing as a good car wreck) and I am a
paranoid driver.

Today the boys and I were headed to town to visit HH in the hospital.
He was expecting us between 1:00 and 2:00. I came to the part of
the road that is kind of an "S" shape, a 90 degree turn left, then about
100 yards, and a 90 degree turn right. You can see people coming,
because there are fields on each side. We turned left, and saw the
two 4-wheelers come up over the hill headed down toward our next
curve. They were racing, two kids on one, a single kid on the other.
They were about 14-15 years old. I slowed down, because they
were going to round the curve before we got to it. The single kid
took the lead. He rounded the turn, but he was going too fast. His
yellow 4-wheeler started to tip up on two wheels. Next thing I know,
he ran off the road alongside a barbed-wire fence. Ouch! The top
two wires twisted. He had his arm between them. That is about all
I could see, because by then I was past him into the curve. The last
I saw, he was twisting at the wire with his other hand. His buddies
had pulled off beside him. #1 son said "Here comes two other kids."
They were coming through the field, one 4-wheeler and one motorcycle.

Now here's the bad part. I didn't stop to pull that kid out of the
fence. I figured his buddies could go right back home and get the
parents. They were about a quarter-mile from where they sped
out in front of us yesterday. At that rate of speed, they would have
been home in less than a minute. I figured one could stay with the
kid, and the other could ride home. Or their two friends could go.

I know this is bad. I feel guilty. If that kid had been gushing neck
blood, or if he had been alone, or if he had been out in the sticks,
or if my kids weren't with me, or if we hadn't been going to the
hospital to see HH, I probably would have stopped. But I didn't.
And now I feel guilty.

But it IS all about ME. I didn't want to get tied up with someone
else's problem. If I called 911, and they sent an ambulance, and
the people had no insurance, they would have to pay out of pocket.
If I moved something on that kid, I could have done more damage.
I am not trained in first aid.

A van passed us going that way before we were even to the kids'
driveway. Maybe they stopped. Maybe not. There is an emergency
room 3 miles from where that happened. I imagine the kid's family
would have just loaded him up and taken him there, rather than
calling an ambulance, which could have been at the other end of
the county, down by HH's hospital.

And have you heard? 4-wheelers are not street legal. Why would
parents let their kids race them on blacktop county roads? I do
hate to see any kid get hurt. I work with kids like this every day.
They are risk-takers. But they are not invincible. I believe everything
happens for a reason. Maybe this was a wake-up call to these kids
or their parents not to let them race around on the roads. Maybe
it will keep them from being hid head-on by a car. Who knows?
Maybe it will teach me to stop at an accident where I'm really
needed.

Don't think I never help people. Last year I stopped near where
these kids now have their driveway, because a couple of old
geezers had tried to turn around in their Cadillac with a T-turn
and got it stuck across the road with the tail-end in a ditch. I let
them use my cell phone to call a tow truck. We sat there with
them until the tow truck came. I have picked up a co-worker
and his then-family twice and driven them home and to a car
repair shop when they broke down between the high school
and elementary. But I just couldn't stop today. It was not on
my agenda.

OK, tell me what a heartless ***** I am. #1 son said on the way
home from the hospital: "I bet he's still there in the fence. Maybe
now you will stop." Low blow, kid. He wasn't there. About 10
feet of fence was torn up. HH said he was going to tell the cow-
getting-out-guy what happened to his fence. He has enough
trouble keeping those beasts in with good fence. About 4 times
a year, his cows are out wandering on the road. He had just
replaced that section 2 years ago. It sucks to be the cow-getting-
out-guy. It really sucks to be the barbed-wire-surfing-4-wheeler-
kid.

And today it sucks to be Hillbilly Mom. Because I should have
stopped.