Eddie Murphy, I hope you're not toying with us

It takes a special kind of person to get up on stage, and while warming up the crowd say, “Hey baby, what’s shaking tonight?” to a complete stranger in the front row. But if the comic is good someone’s face will turn red. And they might even laugh hysterically for no reason. Well, no reason other than they were singled out and are so excited to be able to share that moment (and also very nervous and not PMSing).

Somehow I can imagine Eddie Murphy doing just that. No, not giggling in the crowd. There’s no punch line here.

He says he’ll return to stand-up comedy in a few years. After he’s finished with his current Hollywood commitments, he’s planning to retire from movies altogether and do what he obviously loves and misses. If you have googled the man within the last 24 hours, or watch the Today Show then you already know this. But I’m betting there are people out there who have better things to do in the morning than suffer through an Al Roker interview. Things like flossing, or sleeping off a hangover and waking at noon to tell themselves, “It’s always okay to black out among friends.”

All I can really say about this news is, I hope the man is serious. He better not be spouting this off in a desperate attempt to save face after the embarrassment of starring in more lame films than… than… well, you get the picture. If you have no idea what he’s been doing since Beverly Hills Cop you might want to consider getting out of whatever cult you are in right now, or leaving the convent, or running away from the Amish community. Hmm, I bet they’re having the last laugh, with their horses and buggies.

So, if he indeed is telling the truth and not just spitting out sentences in an effort to regain some dignity, can you imagine what a serious case of comedic back-up this man must have? It’s been like, gosh, at least half a century or something since he last did a routine. He’s probably got material dating back to the Ice Age, or whenever Madonna first became famous. So, the more I think about it the more the anticipation begins to build. I’d punch Madonna in the face to see him doing stand up again. I’d hit her so hard, I’d send her back to Sean Penn.

Raw was the first show I ever saw. When you’re a kid and Eddie Murphy is the first comedian you ever see perform, well, even though it was on video it’s still pretty tough to forget that moment in my life. And if my mom knew I had seen it at the time, she probably would’ve locked me up with the nuns for at least a year, or would've made me swallow rosary beads. Just rubbing them and “hailing Mary” wouldn’t have been enough. And I ate soap so many times, I figure, she’d have to come up with something unique under the circumstances. I’m just glad she never found out.

So, you go boy. Bring it back, and please be relevant after all these years. If worse comes to worse, you can always, just… use a lot of curse words.

We're lucky they left the house intact

I was really baffled about a week ago when some brake pads came tumbling down our roof. After posting about it I came to the conclusion it was the roofers. It just had to be one of them. No one else has ever had that kind of access to the peak in our roof. I know it still doesn’t make much sense but who else could be to blame? There is just no way they could’ve dropped from a plane. No one heard any THUD and the box was found in close proximity to the discs. And when heavy boxes of metal objects fall from the sky I’m guessing they cause some kind of damage. We haven‘t found any pieces of the house lying around. By George, or, Great Scott, I’m starting to feel like Sherlock Holmes (minus the penis). Oh, and minus the cocaine too. The History Channel is a good source of info when it comes to famous dead people. But I already kind of knew he wasn’t a girl.

So, after determining who was to blame, I have to admit I got a little upset thinking about what could’ve happened. What if the kids had been playing outside at the time? I can tell you, they may be small auto parts but they are heavy little bastards. And that peak in our roof is at least one story high. I’d assume it would leave a pretty good lump on an adult’s head, so who knows what kind of damage it could do to a child’s noggin. My kids are very active and somewhat daring but I haven’t yet had to take them to the E.R. This wouldn’t have been the best first time visit either.

Doctor: So you say some auto parts fell off your roof and this is why your daughter now needs stitches?

Me: I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it? I mean, I have no idea who, when, why or how those things got up there…

Doctor: Um, yeah… No worries, but expect a visit from the Child Welfare Dept. soon. It’s strictly routine. I don’t disbelieve your story but I’ve never heard anything quite like this before. So you’ll have to understand there could be legal ramifications if I turn a blind eye…

Me: I understand. I’m just sorry when I was in a hurry to get urgent medical care for my daughter, I didn’t think to pick up the soggy box and brake pads and bring them here with us. Silly me! I can’t wait to miss a day of work so I can visit with that person who knows nothing about my family but has the power to turn us into complete strangers. Do you think they’ll believe it? I mean, I can barely believe it happened myself…

Doctor: Are you on any prescribed medications, ma’am?

Me: Not yet. You got anything good?


Not to mention my bloody child would be writhing in pain. So lucky for us, this was not the scenario.

I was beginning to forget about this whole fiasco, but then I see one of the leading stories on the internet. It just happens to be about these menacing workers called roofers. It has been determined they are to blame for the Universal Studios fire in Hollywood. I have to tell you, I’m really not at all surprised. In fact, I’m now convinced that roofers are the devil’s workers sent up here from hell to wreak havoc.

Devil: I am really bored. How can I cause more mayhem for those idiots up there on Earth? They think they’re so rad. I know, I’ll use a group of people who society doesn’t really like or respect… hmm… Prostitutes? Already did that one. Politicians? Oh yeah, that was my best work! Shit, I think I’ve already depleted my most valuable resources. Oh wait… I got a new one… Roofers! And no one will ever suspect I’m behind it. *Evil laugh*

Just jokes. But I’m glad all we got were falling discs out of the deal. And as afraid as I am of heights, on the next clear day I’m going to force myself to go up on that roof, just to make sure there aren‘t any other forgotten items that could slide down and maim someone. If I live, and find anything unusual, I’ll be sure to let you know about it.

The Comeupance Committee

Thanks for stopping by. Here is something I originally wrote last fall.


The fact that the word comeupance is in the dictionary literally boggles my mind. What a strange word. On the odd occasion I will hear it on TV. As an American it just seems so foreign, and way too classy for a simple country girl like me to ever use. But I‘m going to try, and just dive right into it for the sake of learning a new word.

Comeupance. It's a noun which means "an outcome (good or bad) that is well deserved."

This raises a question. Who decides if an outcome is well deserved? Is there a Comeupance Committee somewhere we should know about? If there is, I want the number. There are times when it could be helpful to consult with a trained professional regarding the use of comeupance.

One night not too long ago I was out driving alone on a highway and had quite the scare. It began when I started up a large hill and had to turn down my headlights because a big tractor-trailer was just starting down the hill in the opposite lane. Just a few seconds later, I saw a giant doe heading straight for my windshield on the driver's side!

Gasp! A doe. A deer. A suicidal female deer.

She came up so fast, I didn't even have time to think. Gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, I quickly turned to the right and then back to the left. I missed her by only a split second. I kind of saw her face, but it was a blur since I was so busy… ya know… trying not to die and all. In that brief moment I think I heard her cry out, "Buck is a cheating bastard!"

My life didn't pass before me. Now I know for certain that whole idea is just a Hollywood hoax. It did take me a few minutes to calm down. I continued on, but slowed down to 60 mph with my left hand on the wheel and my right hand on my chest. I was breathing so hard I could feel my lungs. When things like this happen, you don't know how you're going to react in the moment of truth. Lucky for me, my Under Roos stayed dry. I was driving my old and very heavy GMC Suburban (hey, it's paid for), which is long enough to support it's height and not like those popular SUVs that are box-shaped and feather-light. Is that maybe why I didn't roll over and die just like that movie The Weather Man?

I'm not ready for a funeral yet.

I haven't got any thing to wear! What would they put on me? I'd like a fancy casket so I’d need something that doesn't make me look like trailer trash arriving at a ball. I have to look my best when I go to that fancy ballroom in the ground.

On second thought, scratch the fancy casket. All a country girl needs is a plain wooden box. No, a plaid wooden box. Yes, that’s much more appropriate.

Would you say, after getting the crap scared out of me in a life/death situation, that I got my comeupance? Are you on the committee?

Hurray for summer.

Hurray for vacation time. I’m looking forward to visiting my homeland. It‘s been two years since our last trip. It’s a 14-hr drive that always turns into a 16-hr event because the kids need to pee every few hours… and get one hot meal… so when we finally arrive I’ll see brand new worry lines on my mother’s face. Wait… she doesn’t know exactly when we’re leaving, so I’ll try to keep it that way. I‘m sure I‘ll fail miserably. She has a way of finding out things. If only I were an only child… but then I’d have no one to sympathize, or top my stories of pain and woe.

Hurray for beer. A tall cold one always tastes great on a warm day, and is probably one of my favorite things about summer. I really don’t enjoy beer much the rest of the year. I will have one or two on occasion but I have to be in the right mood for it. I don’t understand this summer phenomenon. Before I had kids I used to drink beer nearly every day through all seasons, and like water on my days off from work. I couldn’t get back into a regular drinking schedule after the first kid. I’m such a loser.

Hurray for ice cream. The kids have a chant that goes like this: I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. Then Mom screams. They always get what they want in the end.

Hurray for baseball. I hope the new ballpark is open this summer as planned, and is still cheaper than a movie. I’m not a tightwad, I just have trouble sneaking kids into the theater, and after the first two it starts getting spendy. The popcorn is like crack and priced like gold. And you can’t have popcorn without a three or four dollar container of pop that could drown a small child.

At Cobb Field everything was reasonably priced which made for a true day of fun. Holy crap, I’ve turned into my father.

Anyway, fun time with the kids is important and I’m always happier when it doesn’t cost too much green. Yep, I’m my dad.

Not only do I enjoy ball games, but my kids will come along, and getting ALL of my kids together to spend time with mom is a tough feat these days. Teenagers are funny people. The strange thing is I can relate.

Hurray for the drive-in, but it’s only for the kids. And when the kids are happy, I bitch on the inside.

Movies just don‘t get me excited like they did years ago. When I became a grown-up (some time in the 90’s) I started seeing a trend of crap peddled by Hollywood, so I thought, like I’ll die if I don’t see Arnold in his latest multi-million dollar deal. I think the way I feel means I’m getting old. I’d guess my parents lost their love for movies when Clint Eastwood stopped starring in Westerns. For me, cinema died when Harrison Ford disappeared. He is a true stud. I’m glad he’s making a comeback of sorts in this new Indiana Jones flick, but I didn’t see him in the last three Star Wars episodes! I still want my money back. Darned kids. Yoda hypnotize them so, why does, hmm?.

Hurray for Independence Day. Our town really gets into the celebration and stretches it out over a few days with parades, fireworks, etc… and people are always on stage trying desperately to convince me that they are entertaining. I’m not like the rest of the drunken sheep, I only applaud when I mean it.

Rodeos are fun, but only when Cowboy Poker is played. There’s something special about watching a live group of snuff-chewers sitting around a card table in a ring with a bull. How does your poker face work when you have over 1,000 lbs of irate animal (complete with horns) breathing down the back of your neck? At some point the fear reflex kicks in and running for your life becomes a bit more important. In fact, the mean bucking machine doesn’t really allow time for a game to get started. To see grown men scrambling and crapping their pants is always a hoot.

We can light fireworks for two weeks straight if we feel like it. This can be fun, depending on who your neighbors are. There is a guy on our street who goes to bed early, and he will call the cops, even though he knows full well we aren‘t breaking any law. So out of respect we resist whipping out the noise makers on weeknights. Who am I kidding? The truth is we don’t want the cops hating us any more than they already do. They get really annoyed by his phone calls, so we are kind to the guy just in case we ever need to call 911. As far as I know there aren’t any specific fireworks that are banned because I’ve seen it all. Then again, I don’t have a copy of the city code handy. It may not be a defense but it works for me.

Sometimes ignorance really is bliss, especially when you‘ve got a deputy watching your every move because you justifiably insulted a woman, who turned out to be his wife. I didn’t start it, but I like to finish things in a memorable way. I guess the truth really can hurt. This is why I have a newfound love for attorneys. You never know when you’ll need one on your side, which is better than having one on your back. But it’s good when they have your back. But not your rear. What am I talking about?

What do you like about summer?