You're Fired...

"Someday your boss is going to call you into his office and explain why you have to be fired. Here's how it's going to go: He will say,"As you know, there have been some budget cuts, and we've had to make some very difficult decisions."Then you'll start crying and begging for your job. You'll look pathetic as you try to argue for your own worth. You won't change his mind. But he'll sit and let you yammer on, just because he feels like he has to. Really, he's just dying to get you out of there." -Walter T. Pratt

I am no stranger to getting fired; big shock, right? I have worked many jobs, in many fields and almost all of them have ended in my termination. Though I've been "let go" many times (6 times to be exact, 7 if you count being fired from a volunteer job at the library) not one time has it been because I wasn't pulling my weight (except for the library thing; what a snooze fest). I remember vividly what it was like each time I was pulled into a small office and gently let down. Sometimes I would cry or beg for them to keep me, but most of the time I knew it was coming and had a new job lined up and waiting. After many years of feeling this rejection, it occurred to me that the only way to stay employed was to employ myself. Now at 26 I have a company that I share with my best friend "The Perpetual Bridesmaid", and though it doesn't make either one of us enough money to buy a stick of gum, it has presented us with the opportunity to hire someone to do work for us; a graphic designer. For the sake of this story and to protect his privacy we'll call him, Dopey.

Things started off well. Dopey had our logos perfect and to our specifications in a timely manner. He also handled my obsessive controlling nature and shear ignorance towards anything computer related with amazing finesse. There was never an issue with communication during the process and things were looking bright for this business relationship. That was until the logos were finished and it was time to move on to the big banana; our website. Suddenly dopey forgot how to use a phone and weeks would pass without a returned call, text message or e-mail. When I finally did hear from him there was always an excuse and never anything ready for viewing. Perpetual Bridesmaid and I knew what we had to do, but it was hard for me to put myself in the position to fire someone. One) because I knew how awkward and upsetting it was to be told you weren't good enough and two) because I just couldn't find a way around being unprofessional when doing it. Luckily, Perpetual Bridesmaid stepped in and took the reins on this one and has put together an e-mail (a modern day pink slip) for Dopey explaining that there will no longer be a need for his services. I'm not sure how he took it or if he has even read the e-mail yet. All I know is that I learned something in the process about how I want to run the Mouthy Mavens and now I would like to bounce my thoughts off of all of you.


I have decided to write a small employee handbook, this way future staff of the Mouthy Mavens will know what's expected of them. And when I say "them" I mean the one person who is willing to work for a few bottles of wine and a free meal at Arby's (No super sizing).

The Mouthy Mavens LLC employee handbook.

Congratulations on becoming a valued employee of the Mouthy Mavens LLC. We are so glad you were willing to sell yourself short and take this thankless, low paying job. Now that you've come aboard we would like you to take a moment and learn our policies. Everything you need to know can be found in this crappy thrown together brochure. If after reading this you find yourself with questions or comments, feel free to write them down and deposit them in your nearest waste receptacle. We have little tolerance for slow learners and could care less about what your opinions are when it comes to running our business. Just read the handbook and do your fucking job!

Chapter 1-Business attire.

Though there is no dress code Per Se, we do require that some form of clothing be worn during meetings with the Mavens and their clients. Please note that the Mavens have the right to mock and belittle your choice of attire at anytime or ask you to remove and hand over anything that would look better on one of us (ex; shinny shoes, engagement rings, stylish fedoras). However, if you are working virtually, feel free to work in your birthday suit or anything else that motivates you to be productive.

Chapter 2- Punctuality

While we do expect you to check in and be on time, we understand that shit happens. This is why we have developed the "look the other way" system. As long as you can provide an adequate excuse (see excuses in chapter 4) or an elaborate gift (Steve Madden Gift card, fine jewelry, ect) we will be happy to let Tardiness slide once in a while. There is only one exception and that is when it comes to deadlines. We will not tolerate any missed deadlines...Ever! Besides your death, no excuse will get you off the hook for not having your work turned in on the day we have agreed to. Capeesh? (Initial here if you capeesh:___)

Chapter 3- Appropriate language

We at Mouthy Mavens LLC, want you to feel free to express yourself in colorful ways and share with us what's on your mind. Foul language is not only accepted, but is also rewarded and celebrated here. We also feel that off colored jokes and sexual innuendos add a special something to a working environment and we strongly encourage the use of both during your time with us.

If you are sensitive to demeaning nick names like "busfucker" and "fruity nuts"(just to name a few) we recommend you rethink taking a position with the Mouthy Mavens. We will occasionally want to refer to you as such and will consider any offense taken as insubordination and grounds for termination.

Chapter 4- Acceptable excuses

As stated in chapter two, there are only a few excuses that will get you off the hook when you screw up at the Mouthy Mavens LLC. Here is a list of acceptable excuses. Though we are very adamant about sticking to these, we are always willing to give you the opportunity to "wow" us with your reasoning to why you are such a huge disappointment. All excuses must be submitted in writing with the assumption that you will one day have it thrown back in your face or that the MouthyMommy.com will use it as a form of public humiliation.

Mavens' Excuses:

1. You're Dead

2. Spent night in jail for something really funny; Ex, Banging Tranny hooker in police station parking lot, Fighting (only if you get your ass kicked and the person who kicked it is old, gay, short, of the opposite sex, or mentally inept), busted for use of truck stop "glory hole"

3. Dead dog/cat. I know originally only "your death" could get you out of a deadline, but after review we realized there was one other excuse that could work. While we have zero compassion for humans, animals are always a soft spot. If grandpa dies we will expect your work no later than midnight the day of the deadline. If mittens kicks the bucket you may have as much as a 1 week extension providing you show evidence of its recent demise.

4. Blindness/ Deafness. We have no patience for any of these things. We are a business centered on writing, listening and reviewing. If this is a temporary issue you may have 1 week to correct it. If it is permanent, it's been a pleasure-don't let the door hit you on the way out!

5. Funny illnesses/injury. Ex) The Clap, any venereal disease that ends in "ia", anything stuck in rectum (x-ray proof required), Anal fissures, ect.

**Again, you always have the opportunity to try a new excuse out. Just remember that we will never except " I slept in," "There was traffic," or anything else generic and not awe inspiring.

***We also determine what is considered funny.

Chapter 5- Drug use.

The founders of the Mouthy Mavens run on three substances, caffeine, nicotine and anti depressants. We personally do not partake in any recreational drug use, however, we do not judge or discourage if you choose too. We understand that sometimes it takes something extra to get motivated and inspired. As long as your work is turned in and meets all Mavens standards we will use the "look the other way" system. If at any point you fail to complete a task, turn in shoddy work or steal from us to get a fix, we will not hesitate to fire your sorry ass and have you arrested. Capeesh? (Initial here if you capeesh:__)

Chapter 6- This is not a democracy.

The Mouthy Mavens LLC is not a democracy. You do not get a "vote" on anything. Your opinion is much less valuable than ours and we reserve the right to ignore your better judgment and knowledge at anytime and do things our way.

Chapter 7- Benefits

There are no health benefits, Workman's comp, life insurance, 401K plans or anything like it. If you need a band aid, a Motrin, Tylenol Cold meds or an ice pack those can be provided by the Mavens. However, your paycheck will be docked for their expense. We are running a business, not a free clinic!

Chapter 8- The Mouthy Mommy

The Mouthy Mommy reserves the right to use you and anything stupid you say and/or do around her- in a blog, story , status update, tweet, and/or book. If you do not like this policy and prefer to be a private individual; tough shit. Either you agree or you find a new job.(Refer to Chapter 6)

~Now that you know the policies of Mouthy Mavens LLC and what is expected of you, it's time to get to work! We hope you'll enjoy working with us, but we also completely understand if you hate every minute of it.

Please sign, date and return the bottom of this form.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I _______________ have read and agree to follow all policies of Mouthy Mavens LLC.

Signed__________________________ Date__________________

Retard Your Politically Incorrectness.

"The last time someone complimented you by saying you were a really sweet person, you knew, deep down, that wasn't true." -Walter T. Pratt



I have never been called a "sweet person" and I can guarantee after this blog I never will. There are very few things I have second thoughts about before I write, but I must admit this was a little over the safe line, even for me. I want to let you know before you read this that I mean no disrespect to anyone. I'm just trying to put things in perspective for people who tend to be overly sensitive.


Before I get down to business today I would like to share with you a few definitions...

Retard- cause to move more slowly or operate at a slower rate; "This drug will retard your heart rate."

Retarded-slow or limited in intellectual or emotional development or academic progress. "The baby was oxygen deprived at birth and it left him mentally retarded."

OK, now that you're all educated, I'll begin my lecture. In 2009 White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel called a group of conservative Democrats "fucking retarded" for threatening to run attack ads against Obama's health care plan. Sara Palin, being a slow reader I guess, didn't find out about this until five months later and when she did she was mad... Being the mother of a down syndrome child she felt she had a responsibility to reprimand Mr. Emanuel and released this statement on her Facebook page;

“Just as we’d be appalled if any public figure of Rahm’s stature ever used the ‘N-word’ or other such inappropriate language, Rahm’s slur on all God’s children with cognitive and developmental disabilities – and the people who love them – is unacceptable, and it’s heartbreaking,”

Mr. Emanuel felt bad after reading such a status update and quickly apologized(through an e-card I imagine) to not only Mrs. Palin, but also to the people of the Special Olympics. Now you would think after an apology this entire debacle could be put behind them and they could get back to the important stuff (like Farmville or Mafia Wars. Get it? Because Sarah used Facebook. Ha!), but no, there's more. Rush Limbaugh has decided to take Rahm Emanuels side and did so by using the word "retard" in a broadcast tirade over 40 times. Sara Palin's response...Cue the crickets; nothing.

Now here's my question after reading all this, and no it's not the obvious "Why was it OK for Rush and not for Rahm." That answer is to easy to find, it's completely political and not at all interesting to me or any of my readers. The real question that needs to be asked is "Why so sensitive, Mrs. Palin?"

I think she needs to retard her anger for a minute and realize that Rahm did not call for a name change for the Special Olympics, nor did he single out anyone with a clinically certifiable mental disability. He simply stated that his party was acting like a bunch of people who were slow in the mental capacity, which if you've read the definitions above, qualifies them as retards. None of you live under a rock, you've watched CNN for more than 5 minutes in the last 10 years. He wasn't that far off in his description.

Please understand, I am not defending bigotry. I think people who use discriminating terms in discriminating manners are despicable, but I also believe that getting angry for the sake of getting angry is despicable too. My mother died of a heart attack. It was sad. It sucked. It changed my life. However, I do not find myself offended when someone uses the phrase "serious as a heart attack." Why? Because heart attacks are serious and though there are no Special Olympic qualifiers in our government, they have at one time or another, displayed retarded behavior.

Maybe I'm missing Sarah's point here. (I'd like to make an "N-word" comparison but using the word "blacks" makes me feel uncomfortable. So instead I'll use a Jew reference, because I am one and that makes it, OK.) Maybe what she is trying to say is that, like only Jews can make Jew jokes, only retarded people can call each other retards. And if that's what she meant to say, (which judging by her quote; it is not) then she again needs to examine the definition of the word and realize that Webster did not intend it solely as an adjective to describe her child or children like hers. "Retard " has always had multiple uses and it has now become as essential to the English language as any version of the word "stupid." Think of all the times Sarah used that on the campaign trail.... Hmm? I guess that proves her case more than mine, doesn't' it.

I wonder if people using the word stupid bothers Sarah's mother?
Because as Forrest Gump once said, "stupid is as stupid does," and that definition has Sarah's name written all over it.

Ask The Mouthy Mommy: Love Edition

"No one will ever love you as much as your mother did. And her love for you completely fucked you up, let's face it."- Walter T. Pratt

With Valentine's Day quickly approaching, love is in the air and I feel that like Hallmark and Russell Stover, I should take the opportunity to cash in on it. Today I will be answering love related questions submitted by my readers. I can't promise that my responses will be helpful because I personally hate Valentine's Day, love, public displays of affections and anything that relates to sharing feelings with someone other than my shrink, but as always I will push through my emotional ineptness and try to help to the best of my abilities.


"When someone says,"I love you," what they really mean is, "I love the way I feel when anyone expresses an interest in me, in this case, you." -Walter T. Pratt


*Mouthy Mommy,
How do you get a guy to make the leap from live in boy friend to let's get engaged?
-Megan, 26, FL

Well Megan, this one's going to take a lot on your part considering he's already getting the "milk" for free. I find that in cases such as this you have two options 1) give him an ultimatum and hope that he doesn't decide to call your bluff, (because let's face it your not willing to pay his half of the rent if he chooses to dip instead of marry you) or 2) and probably your best bet, get pregnant. Nothing says marry me or else like an unplanned addition to the family. Option two will also ensure that you will always have someone to love you, even long after Mr. Wonderful has taken off because he resents you for duping him. Let me know how it works out.-MM

*Mouthy Mommy,
Is it appropriate to start dating your OB after he's delivered two of your kids and you're still married?-Brittany, 26, FL

Brittany,
While I am a big fan of being faithful to your husband, I do feel that a free meal with a successful man is never a bad idea. After all, 60% of marriages end in divorce these days so it's smart to keep you options open. The big problem I see with this date is that the man is an OB. It is never a good idea to date someone who knows more than you do about anything and this is especially true when it comes to your privates. Take a moment and think about all the times your husband has tried to correct you. Now imagine if one of those times he was right and it pertained to your vagina. Not cool! I say stick with just your hubby for now. Maybe you'll luck out one day and find yourself a cute pediatrician. Now think of how much money that would save you.
-MM

*Mouthy Mommy,
How do you know when love is true love and not just infatuation?
-Pete, 39, FL

Petey, Petey, Petey...
This is not as tough as you think it is. Anytime you're caught contemplating whether you are in love or just infatuated I want you to ask yourself these 4 questions.

1) Are you still attracted to her in the morning, stink breath and all?
2) Do you two pass gas freely around each other? Is it awkward?
3) Can either of you enter the bathroom while the other is making and brush your teeth or have a conversation?
4) Think of the most annoying thing about the person you are with. Can you live with that forever?

If the answers are all yes then you're in love...Infatuation only allows for perfection. Love is about noticing the flaws in someone and deciding that even with those flaws you couldn't do any better. So run out and scream it from the roof tops. "You're in love with your momma!" She's a lucky gal, Pete and I wish you both well. - MM

*Mouthy Mommy,

Is it OK to go on a vacation without your spouse? I really want to take a cruise, but my husband gets ill every time he's on a ship and refuses to go on any more. -Claudia, Fl

Claudia, I didn't realize having your husband tag along while you're trying to have some "me" time was a vacation. It's almost a rule in the Mouthy Mommy household that vacations be taken spouse free. Tell me, what is so relaxing about having to deal with your spouse on a getaway. Shit, if he's going you might as well take your boss and kids too. There's nothing like being with the same people that make you crazy at home in a exotic location. Yea, that sounds like fun! Here's what you should do, get yourself a ticket for the next cruise you can find, book yourself an on ship spa day, pack a good book and toss your phone over board the second you leave the dock. Never feel guilty about taking time to do the things that make you happy in life. Trust me; vacation time is best served alone. I promise you'll enjoy it.-MM

*Mouthy Mommy,

What should I get you for Valentine's Day? -Steve, Your Husband

Steve, Do me a favor and refrain from buying me another chocolate arrangement set in a heart shaped cardboard box. I know you mean well, but there are only so many shitty pieces of candy I can eat in one life time and I think last year put me at my max. Since you always refuse to buy me a nanny, maid and most recently orphan, I am just going to ask that you get me something that will not require dusting, feeding or watering. Actually, it may be best if you just give me the cash you were going to spend and I'll put it towards the cruise I decided to take after answering Claudia's question. Just in case you were wondering- no, you are not invited to come with me. Love ya!- MM

I hope this was helpful, because it sure was a lot of fun. Have a great Valentine's Day, and remember, "No matter how much you think you know someone or trust someone, know this: Between you and everyone else on this planet there is a dark, infinite chasm that can never be crossed."-Walter T. Pratt On that note; have a lovely weekend! I'll see you next week. XOXOX

And The Award For Worst Housewife Ever Goes To...

"Listen to that little voice in your head that says,"I don't have what it takes to do this job."-Walter T. Pratt

If you haven't figured it out, the "Worst Housewife Ever" award goes to yours truly. My husband kindly bestowed it upon me at about 6:30 this morning when he was getting himself dressed for work. Why you ask? Well, it seems that though I managed to do about 3 loads of laundry the day before, I somehow forgot to throw in any of his underwear. Which then left my husband to storm through the house like a drunk gorilla and shout that I am in fact, the worst housewife ever. Normally I would argue that there is no possible way that I could be the "worst" at anything (other than spelling), but the fact that he now must go "Indian" to his weekly office meeting, proves that in fact I am. Not that my husbands lack of underoos is the only thing that qualifies me to receive this prestigious title. There are plenty of things that are neglected, overlooked and shoved into closets by me on a daily basis that have allowed me to earn it. So instead of hiding the fact that I have found yet one more job that I am unqualified for, I have decided to own it and do what comes natural to me; punish myself through the written word.

I will break down my housewife duties and give you a glimpse into how I do things. I have to warn you, it's not pretty and if I had any self respect I would keep this to myself. Lucky for you I don't. Enjoy my crazy!

* Cooking

My cooking is terrible. I think it has something to do with the fact that I only know how to make four things and the recipes for all of them came off the back of soup cans. Sure, I could probably do better if I took the time to learn how to make things that didn't have the word helper or instant in the title, but no one is starving or overweight in my house. They're just slightly nauseated and possibly at risk of coronary disease.

*Cleaning

I only clean the things that are visible. Out of sight, not my problem is my motto. I do try to clean under the sofa once a month to keep the dog hair tumble weeds from rolling out when a draft blows in from the open front door, but bedrooms and closets that contain a working door leave me with little motivation to make or keep them tidy. That's why during parties and gatherings you will never be offered the "five cent" tour of my home. If you are super nosey and decided to ask for one, expect this response. "I have four bedrooms, they are all basically the same... Messy. Tour over. Now beat it!"

*Bathrooms

Bathrooms are cleaned for company or after a stomach virus rocks a family member...Oh, and when a tiny tree starts to grow in the shower.

*Nice Things

Most of the furniture in my home is only a few years old, but between the kid and the dog using it as their own personal jungle gym and in some cases- napkin, you may find it hard to believe once you see their condition. The coffee table is chipped and dented, the sofa in the family room has Cheetos stains, the sofa in the living room smells like dog and an inch of dust and dog hair covers everything else. I try to Fabreze and vacuum rugs once a day, but I have got to be honest, by Friday I have pretty much given up. This is why until the dog is dead and the kid is in college, we cannot have "nice" things.

*Laundry
Laundry is a huge thorn in my side and one of my husbands biggest disappointments in me. I have a routine, but it sucks and I'm learning to work around that. Here's what happens: I do the wash when I get tired of tripping over it in the bathroom. Then after a load is washed and dried I remove it, fold it and throw it in a basket where it will stay until it is worn and tossed back on the bathroom floor. I hate putting clothes away and mating socks, so I don't. Socks go under the clothes to the bottom of the basket. This is where they rest until my husband starts his daily treasure hunt. At this point it is up to him to find a pair of socks that are not only the same color, but also the same style. I'm a housewife (a really crappy one, remember?) not a maid. If he wants his stuff in the closet he can walk it there himself. Until then, happy hunting.

*Bill Paying and Scheduling
Paying bills and schedualing our family time is the only thing I am good at as a housewife. I can't say this is something I was always good at because after all, my credit score is 4 ( not 400... 4), but I find that most of my other shitty housewife tendencies can be overlooked by my husband as long as I stay on top of these two small task and for now I'm doing OK.

The Mouthy Mommy is the "Worst Housewife Ever" title holder of 2010 and after reading this blog can you think of anyone who deserves it more? If you can submit who and why on the Mouthy Mavens Facebook page or here in the comment section. I'll pick a winner Friday and that person will receive a Mouthy Housewife journal to record all of their own mouthy moments.

The Mouthy Mommy Goes To Lil Jon's Birthday Party.

In order to provide my readers with interesting content, I've started going to places I wouldn't normally go and working jobs that I'm completely unqualified for (ex-the gun show). Recently my husband, a district manager for a wine and spirits distributor, was invited to sponsor a Birthday party for rapper, Lil Jon at a ritzy night club in South Beach.

Though I rarely listen to rap music, I thought attending this event would get me in touch with celebrities that could help further my career or at least give me a story I could manipulate and use here.

It took some persuading to get my husband to allow me to tag along. Mainly because he wasn't buying that I wanted to go just to spend quality time with him. So eventually I had to tell the truth about my motives. I explained to Steve how exciting it would be to write a blog after rubbing elbows with celebs and how one run in with J-LO could change my life. I mean, all she would have to do is pull a Mouthy Mommy shirt over her fat ass and I would be a "SUPERSTAR." I wanted to go so badly, but it was instantly clear that after hearing my reasoning, Steve-o was going to say No-No. He's one of those obnoxious idiots who could give two-shits about famous people. We ate dinner next to Tommy Lee Jones one night and when I pulled out my cell phone to take a picture of him, Steve threatened to cut my hands off with a butter knife (true story). To get him to change his mind I decided to sweeten the deal and offer him something he normally only gets on his birthday; I would clean the master bathroom and remove all the hair from the drains without bitching our asking for assistance. (We're married, where did you think I was going with that?) I also had to promise not to stalk or push my website on anyone. With my fingers tightly crossed behind my back, I agreed to be on my best behavior and set off to make arrangements for my son to be taken care of.


We thought it would be nice to make a night out of the situation and sprung for dinner at a happening Cuban place not far from the club. I tried to dress trendy so that I would fit in, but the second we pulled up to the valet stand I was reminded of what an outcast I am in this world. The valet and I apparently both shop in the little boys department of the baby gap, because we were sporting matching white button down shirts, black vests and black pants. I couldn't help but think that this would never have happened if my track suit was deemed appropriate South Beach attire.

Luckily, we entered the restaurant without having to stop for me to park any cars. This was nice because, though I could use the extra cash, I was starving and ready to enjoy some dinner. Sadly, the food was small and awful, but I did have a good time with our waiter, who looked exactly like McLovin from Superbad. (I decided to refer to him as such for the duration of our dinner.)

Once we were finished eating, my husband tipped McLovin generously for enduring my taunting, and we made our way down the club. When we arrived the line to get in was wrapped half way around the building. This would have really sucked if we weren't able to walked right past all of them and sashay straight through to the velvet ropes. We were on "The List," so there was no waiting for this diva... As we walked through a small hallway to get inside, I took a quick look around. There were no celebrities, only skinny whores. Then suddenly in the distance I could see the entrance and a few short steps latter we were in the door way. Old school Micheal Jackson was booming loudly and people were packed in like sardines. Even my stick figure of a husband had to suck it in to get into the room, but I was willing to deal with these inconveniences to see some famous faces.

By the time we got to the back bar I had been molested, elbowed and stomped on. My anxiety had built so much from the crowd that instead of scoping for celebs I started looking for emergency exits. There was simply no way I was burning alive with all these idiots if God-forbid there was a fire. While I stood crowded into a corner, I kept one eye on the nearest exit and the other on Lil Jon. He was sitting in a booth not far from me and (for the record he is of average height, but I guess in his defense "average" is harder to butcher with slang than "little") there was no one remotely famous in his vicinity. At one point I thought I saw Moby, but it turned out to be just a bald, regular gay. I know bummer, right? I gave the lackluster party a few more minutes before throwing in the towel and begging to leave. Thankfully, my husband had enough too. Especially since the corner he was shoved in had a barely legal girl pelvic thrusting in gold lamet stretch pants, complete with camel toe. I have to say though, the girl could dance. She must have spent hours practicing those moves in front of her bedroom mirror, which judging by her outfit and rats nest of a hair do, was the only thing she does in front of it.

It took us 15 minutes to shove our way out and though I didn't get to see any celebrities other than Lil Jon and fake Moby, I did get to punch a few people and make it look like an accident. It's amazes me how uncalled for acts of violence can really turn a crummy night around. I hope the next party we go to leaves me with a more exciting story and I'm guessing it will. I hear Playboy people are a lot more interesting.

Project Help Haiti.

"Our world is nothing but 95% poverty-stricken, bloated-stomached babies and 5% money-grubbing pricks. In your lifetime, you've only met people from the latter category." -Walter T. Pratt

Since none of you live under a rock, I am going to assume that we all know what's going down in Haiti. It's horrific at best and after watching a segment about the Haitian orphans Sunday morning, I decided that crying and text messaging $10 from my wireless phone was simply not enough. I needed to think bigger. So, as most of you know I put a donation drive together, but that was not my original plan of action. I had something much grander in mind and for the first time in my life it was only 65% selfishly motivated.

As always this is a true story. Here's how the conversation went when I brought my first idea to my husband for approval.

Me: Steve, we need to adopt a Haitian orphan!

Him: What? Are you crazy? No!

Me: Oh, come on! You want another kid, I don't want to get fat, these kids need a home. It's a win-win and I bet you can get one on sale right now.

Him: I'm not even going to begin to address how many things were wrong with that statement. I'll just put it to you this way, you're not getting an orphan, a maid or a nanny. Stop asking me for ridiculous things that cost money. The answer will always be no. However, it was nice of you to think of someone other than yourself. I'm proud of you.

Me: Fine! I'll just find some other way to help and I'm not asking for permission next time.

Him: Do what you have to do. Just make sure what ever you find doesn't involve me supporting it financially.

Once my plan to bring home a big batch of orphans was crushed, I decided to brainstorm new ways to cash in on my new found humanitarian obsession. I knew that the first thing I needed to do was find an organization that would accept things other than money because as it was earlier stated to me by my cheap and often insensitive husband, I have no funds to give (heck, I'm one lost paycheck away from needing a telethon myself). So I came up with "Project Help Haiti." It's not big or fancy, but when you're helping people who have less than nothing, you realize that small and thrown together gets the job done too. Especially when you have readers as wonderful as mine. For those of you that feel this kind of charity is futile or unnecessary, I just want you to remember that life is full of small gestures that change the world. Why wouldn't you want to be a part of that?

Please take the time to pay it forward, no donation will be turned away. Here are all the details if you would like to join me in giving.

Donation Drive To Help Haiti

A drive is being held this Saturday 1/23/10 at Cornerstone Fellowship (13969 Orange Blvd West Palm Beach, 33419) from 9am to 2pm to help the earthquake victims of Haiti. All goods will be flown directly to those in need by Missionary Flights International or delivered through other missions. The items we need most are:

Baby gear (baby food, diaper, formula, wipes…)
Hygiene products (toilet paper, tooth brushes, sanitary napkins, soap…)
Food (canned food with pop top lids, cereal bars, rice…)
Clothing, Shoes, Pots, Pans and Cutlery are also needed.

**We ask that no water be donated at this time.

If you would like to make a monetary donation to help keep the planes fueled so that they can continue to make their daily trips to Haiti you can visit http://www.misionaryflights.org/ ... Every little bit helps! We hope to see you there.

Sponsors:
The Mouthy Mavens http://www.mouthymommy.com/
Cornerstone Fellowship http://www.fitlyframed.net/
Missionary Flights international http://www.missonaryflights.org/

4 Steps To Keeping Your Dignity In The Great Beyond

"Here's what happens when you die: The blood stops flowing into your brain, and you have a few last flickering thoughts, then you stop thinking all together. The synapses in your brain stop firing, and your personality and thoughts cease to exist. Your body decays. Grubs and boll weevils burrow into your head. Worms crawl in and out of your eye sockets. Maggots feed on your brain. Oh, wait. I'm getting it all wrong. Actually you go to a country club-type place and hang out with Jesus, Mark Twain, and all your long-lost relatives. What was I thinking?" -Walter T. Pratt

Well, now that we know what happens physically when you die it's time to talk about what your no good relatives are going to be doing after they've had a moment to celebrate your passing. If you have children or are a person who prepares for the inevitable, chances are you have purchased life insurance and wrote out a will. Your beneficiary is set and you have specified who gets your "Pretty Kitty" plate collection and those baseball cards (in terrible condition) that you have been hording since you were a small child. But as for all the day to day nonsense, the furniture, clothing and whatnot's, someone or many someones will be entering your place of residence to rifle through it and you can rest assured that they will be carting away anything that isn't nailed down. I guess when you think about it in the grand scheme of things it doesn't seem like a big deal, because after all, you are dead. Right?

I get why some of you may feel that way. In fact, I at one point felt that way too. That was until I had to clean out my mother's house and ran into a few things that no child should ever have to see. It was a real eye opener and it occurred to me then that EVERYONE has stuff tucked away in closets and drawers that they are not particularly proud of. Things that even in death, are majorly embarrassing and will no doubt, tarnish their legacy. But what can you do to keep this from happening? Funny you should ask, because as always, I had a few ideas.

4 Steps To Keeping Your Dignity In The Great Beyond.

Step 1- Get yourself a bag or box of a specific color
This is as easy as it sounds. Look at the things you own that need to be chucked after your departure and buy something to keep them in. I say pick a color so that the buddy you pick in step two, can identify it easily.

NOTE: Shoe boxes tend to blend with the scenery and will need to be spruced up or decoupaged. You need it to scream "Here I am! Burn me!"


Step 2-Use the "Buddy System"
Figure out who the one person is that you trust to dispose of your smut. It can be a cousin or sibling. I personally have chosen my best friend, The Perpetual Bridesmaid. Not only is she a kook like me, but she's also very discrete. Which is exactly what you'll need for this task.

Note: Your "Buddy" should be someone off balance and trust worthy. You need this someone to retrieve the colored bag of filth from your secrete hiding place and do so without being compelled to tell anyone what's inside or meet you at the pearly gates due to shock.

Step 3-Make a game plan

Though when and how you will expire is a mystery, your buddy must always be ready. Make Sure they know the three "W's"; when to pick up the stuff, where it is, and what to say to the greedy family members who will no doubt, want a piece of what's in the bag.

Note: Keep the plan simple and straight forward. Your buddy is throwing out a bag of dildo's not accepting a case for Mission Impossible.

Step 4-Figure out what is bag/box worthy and waste no time putting them away
Anything that cannot be openly displayed on a coffee table when your mother's around belongs is this special place. This includes, but is not limited to:

~Dirty Magazines (Especially those that contain tranny midgets and farm animals)

~Sex toys (No one wants to handle your "personal massager" collection. We all know what they are really used for. It's gross...Put it in the bag!)

~Old journals ( This strictly depends on content. If you wrote a nice memoir by all means leave it accessible. However, if you are anything like the Mouthy Mommy and have chosen to write a graphic novel about your life, for reasons unbeknownst to even you, it's best that you rip out the gory stuff or scrap the entire book. Remember, even if your family thinks you're a whore, they don't need the evidence spelled out in your own handwriting.)

~Drugs or Paraphernalia(Though you started doing drugs to ease the pain your family has caused you, it's none of their business how you choose to self medicate to get through the day. Hide your stash or risk leaving a legacy that says you're a junkie. It may not be true, but those nut jobs you're related to will need something to blame for your demise and I can guarantee it won't be themselves.)

~Photos or video of you naked, in drag, or copulating ( Yikes! If you have this stuff save your buddy the trouble and burn it now. You guys are close, that's why you chose him/her, but there's a limit and pictures of you getting "it on" in drag is it...Trust me on this one.)

** All embarrassing material must go to the bag ASAP. It may be taken out, used or reviewed, but always returned promptly when finished.

Note: There may be things that are not linked to your sexual deviance that belong in this bag. Since I only own the latter, I can't think of any examples, but please feel free to leave some in the comment section if you can.


Once you have your bag in order and your "Buddy" on standby, your bucket is ready to be kicked. I can't promise that it will all work out according to plan. Who knows, maybe your buddy will die with or before you. Or worse, they could get Alzheimer's and forget where you hid your stash. I wouldn't waste time worrying about that much though. You've got bigger problems. Including how hard it's going to be for you to get into heaven. God sees all you know, even what's in the bag.