Rambling About Shit

Btw... those ain't my hands in the pic...YET ! You'd think all the years of jerking off with Jergens would have left me with the hands of a 20 year old, but no ! Ya'll be good and stay away from those stupid "AS SEEN ON TV" products,ok.

Gospel Boy

I don’t know if I’ve ever told ya’ll, but I was raised VERY religious. I was born into a very devout Southern Baptist family. In fact, shortly after I was born, my father started attending the Fruitland Bible Institute in Hendersonville, North Carolina to become a minister. Four years later, he had his own church in King’s Mountain, North Carolina and my brother and I were making quite a reputation for ourselves as PK’s (preacher’s kids). We hated Sunday school and instead would hang out in the men’s bathroom in the basement and chew tobacco and tell dirty jokes to the other hicks (no, I don’t still chew tobacco ) or we’d go behind the fellowship hall and smoke the cigarette butts we picked up in front of the steps that lead up to the back door of the church. Even though we were sorta “bad kids” we believed in God with all our hearts and actually behaved ourselves during the service.

Let me just stop here and say Southern Baptists:

*Do not handle snakes

*Speak in tongues

*Run up and down the aisles when they get “filled” with the spirit

Through all this was gospel music, always Southern gospel music. My church had what we called “singings” at least once a month, usually on a Saturday night or Sunday night (in place of the regular service). An out-of-town gospel group would come to our church, usually in a huge tour-type bus and do a two hour set for our congregation. The guys would all have on matching leisure suits and big, coiffured (aqua-netted) hair and let’s not forget the ladies, they’d usually have on long flowing aqua/paisley print dresses and would be sporting the largest (aqua-netted) beehives you ever saw. People back then really did take that old saying to heart: the higher the hair, the closer to God.

These groups usually had named like The Imperials, The Georgia Boys, The Dixie Harmonettes and the Southernaires (see a theme here?). After much hand clapping and a long emotional altar-call, we’d end the evening with a covered-dish supper in the fellowship hall. We tried having the covered-dish supper before the singing, but everybody complained about all the “gas passing” during the service (FYI: deviled eggs and collards IS a bad thing to eat right before church).

Let’s fast forward to my late teen years now. As soon as I got my driving license (after three attempts, I still can’t drive worth a shit, btw…), I left my father’s church in favor or the new “hip” Baptist church down the road that had a large youth group. My father was disappointed, but he said he understood that I needed to be in a church with more people my own age, he was just glad that I still went to church in the first place (my brother was a big drugged-out mess by this time). I became very active in that church. I joined the choir and taught Sunday school. I have to say that I was very happy there with my group of friends until they approached me one Sunday to take part in a foot-washing ceremony. Oh hell no, there was no way in hell was I going to sit in front of the church and let somebody wash my feet, I mean, for real. After that, some people acted like they thought I was sorta “silly” to be embarrassed about sitting in front of the church and having my feet washed by somebody else to teach them Jesus-like humility.

Now, I’m not one to brag (yeah, right) but after a while people in the choir began to notice me for my singing ability and soon the choir director approached me about singing “specials” at church events. I was scared but I said okay if she’d practice with me. So, over the next two weeks, I’d go over to her house and we’d practice my songs until I couldn't sing anymore.

Okay, I need to stop and point out something here. By this time in my life, I’d been listening to old Mahalia Jackson albums for years. I played them over and over until I could do a fairly good impression of her (well, for a skinny, white boy, that is…). So, given the choice to sing what I wanted to in front of the church, I decided to sing:

The Upper Room (Mahalia Jackson song)




&

Go (Shirley Caesar song)


So, just imagine you’re sitting in a Baptist church filled with white people and this skinny, trembling white boy gets ups and starts singing like he thinks he’s a reincarnated version of Mahalia Jackson. I think it blew those people’s minds to be honest. I mean, they were polite & all, clapping when I was done (and I even got a few Amens too) but I was never invited to sing in front of that church again. There’s a video of my performance floating around out there, I wish I could see it… well, no… maybe not.

Ya’ll be good, okay, Jesus is looking, ya know.

Momma Drama

My mother has this knack for bad things happening to her constantly. Ever see that Flintstones spin-off cartoon from the early seventies, The Pebbles And Bamm-Bamm Show ? My mother is Schleprock. For those of you that know nothing of the show, Schleprock was an all doom & gloom character that bad things continually happen to over and over. His favorite line on the show was, “Woe is me” and right he was.

*If there’s a gopher hole in the yard, my mother will step in it and break her ankle.

*If there’s a yellow-jacket nest in the yard, my mother will walk over it and get stung 58 times.

*If my mother eats out, they always get her order wrong of she finds a hair in her food.

*My mother is the only person I know that can borrow a car (mine) and total it pulling out of the driveway 5 minutes later.

*The knife always slips when momma slices a ham and takes a chuck or two out of her fingers.

*My mother is the only person I know that sat her oven mitt on fire when she was taking a pan of cornbread out of the oven and burnt down the entire kitchen. If you look closely you can see the scorch marks inside the range hood.

*My mom has had a “splitting headache” since 1971.

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I love my mom something fierce but she does tend to depress me when she's in one of her moods. When I’m around her I’m constantly trying to cheer her up and point out the good things in her life and folks, it wears me da fuck out. Today was my day off. God, I was sleeping so good too, until…

Last night all over North Carolina we had torrential downpours (child, it rained). I mean, it certainly does rain here in winter but it’s usually a soft, pattering rain. The kind of rain we had last night was the type you get during hurricane season when a tropical storm passes through. Like I said, I was sleeping so good around 8:30 and suddenly, BAM ! There was my mom in my bedroom, shaking me and telling me that there was a "problem".

Like many people with parents that are starting to become elderly, I’d giving my mom a key to my place years ago in case of an emergency and well, here she was in my face (good thing I wasn’t throwing my legs to Jesus with some redneck boy on top of me pumping away).

It seems that because my mother had decided to park her cars on the lawn, instead of the driveway, both of them were mired up in mud (almost to the bumpers) and completely stuck because of the ground still being so sopping-wet from last night’s rain. My mother had walked the two miles to my house instead of just simply picking up the phone and calling me. That's all I need, momma falling in a ditch and breaking her hip in the middle of nowhere, ya'll ! One of the problems of living in such a small town is that everybody and their brother will stop me in the grocery store and say stuff like, "I saw yo momma walkin' beside the road da other day, is everything alright ?" And you just know they're thinking it's somehow my fault...

I make her leave the room and I dress quickly so we can head back to her house. The cars are indeed stuck fast. I do all the tricks you’re supposed to do to get a car unstuck (placing planks under the wheels & filling the hole with rocks and gravel so the wheels can get traction) but nothing works and the spinning of the wheels just seems to dig the cars in deeper. By this time, I’m covered in mud head-to-toe, my Kenneth Coles are ruined and I haven’t had my coffee yet. I’m started to get grouchy and over the whole damn thing, fast.

“You’re going to have to call a wrecker. Mother.”

“I don’t have the money…”

“Well, that the only way these cars are coming out of this mud.”

“Oh God, why does everything happen to me? I live right, I go to church, and I’m just a poor old widow woman…”

I roll my eyes and sigh loudly, “I’m calling a wrecker truck.”

“I CAN’T afford it.” She says again and stomps her foot, “You’re the man of the family, can’t you DO something?”

God, I so regret leaving DC sometimes. “Momma, I’ve done all I can do. Unless you have a magic wand stashed somewhere or have a genie in a bottle somewhere that owes you a favor, I’m calling Dixie Towing!”

The tow truck driver’s eyes got real big when he saw the muddy mess and the cars in my mom’s yard, but he remained professional and soon had both cars out of the mire in no time. It costs $50.00, I gladly paid it just so I could get into some clean clothes and get back home to my coffee maker. Ask anyone that knows me, you’re pushing your luck if you aggravate me pre-coffee.

Ya’ll be good and count to 10 when your momma gets on your nerves (I know I had to this morning).

I'mma "Soldier Of Love"

WooHoo ! Sade is back ! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Sade ! I've been hooked since I bought the Diamond Life LP back in '84....opps, I mean...when my grandmother bought it and passed it down to me, since I was only 2 years old in '84, ya know. Check out the new single, Soldier Of Love. It's the old Sade we all know & love but updated for 2010.

January And Still Rambling

Happy New Years, guys! I know, I know, I’m late but better late than never right? Did you guys make resolutions? I didn’t. I know better. Well, what are the most popular resolutions?

1. Lose weight – (Naw, don’t need to. I’m 5’11” and weigh 165lbs. I’m happy with my overall size)

2. Quit smoking – (Already covered that. I quit in April last year when I first got sick)

3. Start working out/join a gym – (see #1, happy with my size and realize that I’ll never be a muscle head no matter how much I work out)



That said, I do ask God often to make me a nicer person/more empathic person because I can be a bitch sometimes. If I did have a resolution, that would be it and to always take the high road no matter how evil people are to me.

My personal life? Ouch! You remember that I had mentioned that I was “seeing” someone? Well guys, that’s all history now. I ended it last week. I don’t believe in kissing and telling (unless the guy was a douche-bag and then he deserves it if you shout it from the mountaintops). “T” was a fantastic guy, a sweet, wonderful guy, but… We just didn’t have that much in common outside of the bedroom and trying to carry on a conversation with a guy that usually only answered you back in one syllable words isn’t easy, ya know?


Me- “How was your day, dear?”

T- “Fine.”

Me- “Did you go visit your sick friend in the hospital?”

T- “Yep.”

Me- “How was he?”

T- “Okay.”

Me- “So, whatcha thinking about, baby?”

T- “Nothing.”

Me- “You wanna go get something to eat after while?”

T- “I guess.”

See what I mean? Boring. Sometime around Christmas, I just fuckin’ gave up and found that I was unconsciously avoiding him and not returning his phones calls until days later. My friends all say that I’m just being too picky or that maybe he’s just shy… He wasn’t shy, folks! He had no qualms above talking about sex and all the stuff he wanted to do in the bedroom at night. I’ve got to have a man that will talk and shares his thoughts with me on a day-to-day basis without me twisting his arm.

So, I’m single again and on the market. Oh boy! If you’re rich & hung, ask me out, ok. Just kidding about the “hung” part, I’m no size queen, well, that’s what I tell people anyhow…


I was listening to old episode of Ragan Fox’s podcast (Fox In The City) the other day and he mentioned that when he’s gone home to Tex-a-rock to visit his family recently, he’d bumped into an old friend that was now a blogging superstar and was delighted to have the chance to catch up on things with her. Okay folks, just what the fuck makes a blogging superstar? Somebody share some secrets, please. This is going on the 3 year I’ve had this blog and I still struggle to get traffic to my blog. I’ve done all the things you’re supposed to do:

*Word-of-mouth

*Register with search engines (traditional & gay)

*Comment on other people’s blogs

*Place links in all my online profiles and correspondence to my blog


Maybe I need to spice things up a bit and stream bareback porn 24/7 from my blog. Hmmmmm.

J/K! I was so kidding about that bareback porn. It would actually be scat porn.


Gotcha! again.

But, for real, if you know some secrets about how to get people to visit your blog (and leave comments), hit me up, ok.

Listen to me talk about a really weird porn film I just saw:

Signs He's Got A Big One

My gift to you single guys for the upcoming year is this posting. I researched and compiled material for this article for 3 months. When it comes to penis size there are two types of people out there: There are those that will admit that they like a big dick and there are those that lie about it. We’ve all heard that lame ass excuse for small penises over & over:

It ain’t what you got; it’s how you use it! (Well honey, you gotta have enough to use in the first place but there is a lot to be said for technique. I know some big-dicked tops that ain’t worth a damn in the sack and I know this cute little guy that can rock your world with his 4 inches)

I went over to my friends at the Large Penis Support Group (yes, there’s an actual support group for big-dicked men: http://www.lpsg.org/ I know, I know, don’t you just feel so sorry for those poor big-dicked men?) and asked them this question:

You’re single, you’re in a bar and you see a guy you like. How do you tell if he be packin’ ? I mean you could follow him to the bathroom and try to sneak a peak at his weenie when he goes to the urinal, but that’s kinda trashy, ya'll (you're a high class, god-fearing gal after all). What are the most reliable signs?

Here’s what they came back with:

*Thick thumbs (supposed to mean that you got a fat one)

*Big nose

*Lean, wiry build (I agree with this one)

*Big hands (I agree with this one)

*Big ears

*Thick neck

*Red-headed guys (I agree with this one, but I’m not down with red pubes)

*Long ring finger

*Full lower lip (huh? That’s just silly!)

*Sits with his legs open instead of crossed at the knee (I could see how that might to true)

*Big feet (ehhhh, I’ve been fooled by this one several times)

*Walks like he’s bowlegged even though he’s not (uhhhh, okay…)

*Square jaw (again, silly)

*Long forearms

*Wears baggy clothes ('cause he needs more room for his junk?)

*Large shoulders

*Tells "big one" jokes often but doesn't defend himself (I’ve found this to be true)

Personally, if I had to pick one physical trait that was the most accurate, I’d have to say that large hands are the surest bet that he’s got a big one. People will fool you though, I’ve known guys that don’t have any of these physical traits listed and they were fuckin’ HUGE. When I lived in DC, I knew a twink that was maybe 5’5” tall and very slight. One drunken summer evening at the same pool party, he took his Speedo off and OMG, his weenie hung past his knees and it was limp, I kid you not. It was a freakin’ 3rd leg! And on the flip side of the coin, I’ve known 6’8” guys that had size 17 feet, massive hands and were lucky to be packin’ 3 inches. You just never truly know what a guy has packed away in his underwear until he plops it out in your face.

Something to think about:

Russian scientist did a survey a few years ago and found that ON AVERAGE, you can determine dick length by taking the length of the foot, from the front of the big toe to the back of the heel, add 5cm or 2 inches, and divide the result by two (guys, do some math and let me know if this is accurate, ok).

A dick can be too big; I’m here to tell you. I know a hot guy in Atlanta that has a 10x7 schlong and has a very hard time finding someone that can “accommodate” him, orally or anally for very long. That would suck (and not in a good way) to want to have sex in the worse way, but people scream and run out of the room when you pull out the monster in your pants.

Okay guys, be good and don’t hate on your hung brothers, ok. Give’m a hug or a BJ or some butt if you’re feeling mighty generous.

My New Blog

Hey Guys,

I started a new blog to air out my collection of retro clipart (plus my usual smart-ass comments to boot). Stop by and take a gander, ya'll.

http://ImmaRetroBitch.blogspot.com

Day After Xmas, Whew...

I hope everybody had a great holiday season. Frankly, I’m thrilled that Christmas is over. I’m not a grinch (really), but being in retail… well, it kinda ruins Christmas for you because Christmas = more work + more bitchy customers. My Christmas day went off without a hitch though. I cooked for the usual crowd of 20, but everyone decided to go to their in-laws for Xmas this year at the last minute, so I ended up with only 6 people and a refrigerator that explodes food every time I open the door (somebody help me eat all this fried chicken & deviled eggs, please). Just got back from brunch with mom at one of the local eateries and a little after-Christmas shopping and oh yeah, a quick trip to the pharmacy to get some of my meds. I’m such a freakin’ chocoholic, don’t you know I came away from the stores with all kinds of 50% Christmas candy!

This is off-topic, but I want to talk about something else right quick before I go. I guess you’d call it the: "When I’m single & available, I can’t get a decent man to pay any attention to me but now that I’m “seeing” someone, all the hot, single men are suddenly interested in me and asking me out of dates" syndrome.

All I got to say is about that is: WTF, ya'll !!! I just don’t understand this. Do you reckon’ that you become more desirable to other guys when you’re “taken” and present a challenge to them ? Men are crazy, fucked-up characters sometimes, I ought to know, I am one (stop laughing, bitch).


Before I go, the dickhead of the day is:

Where's my damn Adam!!!

27, 5'6", 130lb, 29w, Slim, Brown Hair, Smooth, White, Looking for Friendship, Relationship. Cute guy here looking to date or friends. Everyone I find myself into are straight men :( I hope my beautiful body as well as my beautiful mind does not intimidate you!I want someone to hold, someone to walk on the beach with hand-in-hand. Someone to share a drink and popcorn with at the theater and someone I can call just to say "I love you." i want someone to throw me on the bed and just rape me, slapping my ass....then kiss me on the lips and tell me they love me. Is this too much to ask for? Santa please deliver no later than..Movies, beach, shopping, reading, surfing the net, talking on the phone, txtin, swimming, jogging..

Ya'll, he hopes you're not intimidated by his beautiful body & mind ! Please don't let that stop you from emailing him, ok. But...but...always remember to tell him you love him and kiss him on the lips after you slap his ass and rape him or no popcorn for you at the theater ! Is your name Adam ? hmmm? I didn't think so !

Ya'll be good and eat an extra big piece of fruitcake for me, okay (I know you hate it, but it'll help you poo). See ya.

Snow Day ! Hell Fuckin' Yeah !

I took a snow day today and called my boss at 7 a.m. to say they’d just have manage without me. This snow was sort of a surprise; it seldom snows so early in the season here. Most snows that amount to anything usually happen between January and mid-March in this part of North Carolina. Like most southerners, I can’t drive for shit in snow or ice. I made the mistake of deciding to go to the store for beer last night just after the snow stopped and soon found myself bargaining with God:

“Oh sweet Jesus, please forgive me for going out for beer on a night like this! Please, oh please! Shit, I’m sliding! Oh hell, I mean …heck (sorry, Jesus). Turn the steering wheel in the direction you’re sliding, right? That don't make any sense ! Oh shit, I knew I should have paid more attention in driver’s-ed, but that was eons ago… Oh fuck, here comes an 18-wheeler, sweet Jesus, I’m gonna die!”

Lesson learned:

Buy yo shit before the weather gets bad.

Snow days are wonderful. It’s like God just opened up the sky and handed you an extra day off and said ENJOY. Hmmm, what to do, what to do… Stranded at home until my road gets scraped & salted. Well guys, I did what any bored queen stranded at home so close to Christmas would do, I baked my Christmas cookies. All 8 dozens! I made those little green Christmas trees you shoot out of the cookie gun, I made standard peanut butter cookies, I baked shortbread and ended with my chocolate crackles (my fave). I did all this while watching a Betty Hutton movie. I swear, sometimes I’m so freakin’ gay I amaze myself…LOL.

Somebody asked me the other day what I wanted for Christmas. I had to really think about it for a while… What does Ken want for Christmas? Here’s what I came up with: I want the fates to blind someone to my multitude of flaws just long enough for them to see the person I want to be. Isn’t that what being loved is about, them being able to see past all the smoke and mirrors and being able to see you, the real you? I think I just might have met this person. I don’t want to talk about it too much yet and jinx myself, but keep a good thought for me, okay.

Ya’ll be good and Happy Holidays, ya hear! I’ll be back soon with my article on how to tell if a man has a big dick.

Today's Funny Hook-Up Ad

I found the following ad on Manhunt today:

"blah blah blah, ok anything you want to know just ask, Im not a shy type of person , well unless its face to face then im kinda shy . single 4 yrs now after a 13 year ltr, considering another one IF and only IF there is another normal guy out there , meaning you would rather go to the drag strip and race your car than to go to the bar and watch a drag show, ( no offense to drag have friends that are DQ just not my dating type) hum now more serious note ,neg as of 11/14/09 , so just be honest , we can work around it"

Well, dude…

Guess who's not getting invited to go with me to Imma Ho's Christmas Gala at the Stonewall ? Yep, that's right...you, bitch ! Go to your goddamn drag-strip with your redneck "normal" buddies ! I mean we were together for 13 fuckin' years, i guess that counts for nothing ! Shy, my ass ! You were trying to get me in the back seat of your Ford Focus (no easy task I might add, thank the lord I'm double-jointed) five minutes after we met ! Btw... I'm poz now. Want to get back together ? What ??? You said you'd "work around it". Well excuse the fuck outta of me for asking... Damn. You're a bitch, know that ?


Okay, I'll be nice now and stop making fun of this poor dude... Hey guys, I do wanna give a shout-out to Tomi, my good buddy in Finland that was just in a car accident the other day. Get yourself better baby and watch out for those deers, they're tricky bastards. My dad totaled his car in the late eighties when a herd of deer ran out in front of him one Sunday morning on the way to church. You should have seen all the blood and deer guts, not pretty indeed !

Ya'll be good. I mean it, Santa's watching your ass, ya know.