Okay, if this blog title doesn’t get your attention, you’re either dead or you should be.

My current WIP is set in small town Arkansas and its theme music is Country and Western. Now, I don’t mind C&W music, I just don’t normally listen to it.

So, anyway, I’m writing today and my oldest son, Ian (pictured) is sitting in the room with me, reading. It’s very pleasant except Ian’s heavy sighs every time he turns a page because he’d rather eat toenails than read, but that’s another blog)

A Billy Ray Cyrus song comes on and I’m singing along cuz it was the only one of his songs I could even remotely tolerate. It Could’ve Been Me is the title.

My dear husband walks in and proceeds to make up his own lyrics.

“It could’ve been pee…”

of course, Ian starts laughing which just encourages my husband even more. The lyrics get much worse until I finally say:

“I swear honey, you’ve got to have a fart for a brain. There is nothing between your ears but a big ole bubble of gas.”

I can honestly say, that is the first time in my life I’ve made my 11 year old laugh until he cried. Not that I should be surprised; I did say a few days ago that just the word fart makes him chuckle.

It made my day to see him laugh/cry, though.

Today’s special moment is sponsored by Billy Ray Cyrus. Being the good little southern girl that I am, I should write him a thank you note.

Well, it was a success, though we didn’t play a lick of poker.

We did, however, drink a lot of vodka. 1.75 liters to be exact, between 10 of us. Holy Moly. One of my girlfriends had this drink recipe but she couldn’t remember what it was called. It’s very similar to vodka gimlet, only not exactly. 🙂

Slice up several limes and put the slices into a pitcher.
Add a 1/2 cup sugar per lime
Crush contents together until the sugar is pretty well dissolved and the limes are squishy.
Add Vodka to cover contents.
Crush together some more.
Add ice
Stir together.
Strain into glasses.

Taste it to make sure it’s not too sweet. if it is add more limes. If not sweet enough, add more sugar.

Since we didn’t know what to call this concoction, we renamed them Drunk Susans or Susie Woozies.

Yum. They were divine. Thank God I thought to drink lots of water as well and take a couple of advil. I wouldn’t be feeling so spiffy today if I hadn’t.

Now, onto a different topic.

Damn that SEP! Yes, I’m still miffed about the book Ain’t She Sweet. I’m angry the story ended. I cried and laughed through the last 100 pages of the book. I haven’t been touched by a story like this in a very long time. If everyone wrote stories like this…well, I’d be a much happier reader.

As a writer, SEP just raised the bar. I marvel at her talent. I never once found myself mentally changing a word choice or rolling my eyes. This was such a believable and heart wrenching story. I defy anyone to read it and tell me otherwise.

Anyone who can make me cry during half-time of my son’s soccer game has a talent beyond measure.

Have I fawned enough? Are you sick of me yet?

And damn that Maria Geraci for making me read this story! I know she’s reading this blog right now, snickering…”I told you so, Mel Francis. You should never question me.”

Humph. She’s right. But don’t tell her I said that. 🙂

Well, it was a success, though we didn’t play a lick of poker.

We did, however, drink a lot of vodka. 1.75 liters to be exact, between 10 of us. Holy Moly. One of my girlfriends had this drink recipe but she couldn’t remember what it was called. It’s very similar to vodka gimlet, only not exactly. 🙂

Slice up several limes and put the slices into a pitcher.
Add a 1/2 cup sugar per lime
Crush contents together until the sugar is pretty well dissolved and the limes are squishy.
Add Vodka to cover contents.
Crush together some more.
Add ice
Stir together.
Strain into glasses.

Taste it to make sure it’s not too sweet. if it is add more limes. If not sweet enough, add more sugar.

Since we didn’t know what to call this concoction, we renamed them Drunk Susans or Susie Woozies.

Yum. They were divine. Thank God I thought to drink lots of water as well and take a couple of advil. I wouldn’t be feeling so spiffy today if I hadn’t.

Now, onto a different topic.

Damn that SEP! Yes, I’m still miffed about the book Ain’t She Sweet. I’m angry the story ended. I cried and laughed through the last 100 pages of the book. I haven’t been touched by a story like this in a very long time. If everyone wrote stories like this…well, I’d be a much happier reader.

As a writer, SEP just raised the bar. I marvel at her talent. I never once found myself mentally changing a word choice or rolling my eyes. This was such a believable and heart wrenching story. I defy anyone to read it and tell me otherwise.

Anyone who can make me cry during half-time of my son’s soccer game has a talent beyond measure.

Have I fawned enough? Are you sick of me yet?

And damn that Maria Geraci for making me read this story! I know she’s reading this blog right now, snickering…”I told you so, Mel Francis. You should never question me.”

Humph. She’s right. But don’t tell her I said that. 🙂

Damn you, SEP!

You’ve gotten me so caught up in the life of Sugar Beth Carey that I can’t concentrate.

Ain’t She Sweet is torturing me. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.

I am in awe of your talent for taking a character I should hate and making her someone I love. And I do love Sugar Beth. But I shouldn’t. And I should pity Winnie, for what Sugar Beth did to her, but I don’t.

Last night, I stayed up past midnight reading but finally had to force myself to put the damn book down.

Damn you, woman! Damn you and your brilliant characters and vivid setting. How is it that a woman who lives in Chicago–via Ohio and New Jersey–can draw such an accurate picture of small town Mississippi?

And I should know small town Mississippi–I live in Oxford.

I don’t know if I should love you or hate you. I suppose I will give into the love, since I’m such a tree-huggin’ softy.

This year, I’m giving your book to all my friends for Christmas. I’ve tried to explain small town Mississippi to them and they don’t get it. They will once they read this damn book.

Respectfully yours,
A brand new fan
Melissa McKenzie Francis

——————-

I’m emailing this to SEP today. How do you think she’ll respond?

Damn you, SEP!

You’ve gotten me so caught up in the life of Sugar Beth Carey that I can’t concentrate.

Ain’t She Sweet is torturing me. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.

I am in awe of your talent for taking a character I should hate and making her someone I love. And I do love Sugar Beth. But I shouldn’t. And I should pity Winnie, for what Sugar Beth did to her, but I don’t.

Last night, I stayed up past midnight reading but finally had to force myself to put the damn book down.

Damn you, woman! Damn you and your brilliant characters and vivid setting. How is it that a woman who lives in Chicago–via Ohio and New Jersey–can draw such an accurate picture of small town Mississippi?

And I should know small town Mississippi–I live in Oxford.

I don’t know if I should love you or hate you. I suppose I will give into the love, since I’m such a tree-huggin’ softy.

This year, I’m giving your book to all my friends for Christmas. I’ve tried to explain small town Mississippi to them and they don’t get it. They will once they read this damn book.

Respectfully yours,
A brand new fan
Melissa McKenzie Francis

——————-

I’m emailing this to SEP today. How do you think she’ll respond?

I don’t feel very funny today.

But that’s okay. I can’t be funny all the time.

I didn’t feel very funny the other day when I told my son if he didn’t quit playing that God-awful Fart horn (Trombone) that I was going to shatter into thousands of mini-me’s and attack him like he’d just stepped into ant bed. Then’d he’d be really sorry.

He found that funny. He finds anything with the word FART attached to it funny.

I must stop using the word fart.

Especially on non-funny days.

Though, admittedly, Fart is a funny word.
How old am I again?

I’m hosting a Girl’s Night Out Poker Party tomorrow night. If I’m not feeling funny by then, the Vodka Gimlets will help…amazing how much funnier I feel after vodka…

Grey Goose anyone?

I don’t feel very funny today.

But that’s okay. I can’t be funny all the time.

I didn’t feel very funny the other day when I told my son if he didn’t quit playing that God-awful Fart horn (Trombone) that I was going to shatter into thousands of mini-me’s and attack him like he’d just stepped into ant bed. Then’d he’d be really sorry.

He found that funny. He finds anything with the word FART attached to it funny.

I must stop using the word fart.

Especially on non-funny days.

Though, admittedly, Fart is a funny word.
How old am I again?

I’m hosting a Girl’s Night Out Poker Party tomorrow night. If I’m not feeling funny by then, the Vodka Gimlets will help…amazing how much funnier I feel after vodka…

Grey Goose anyone?

It’s Wednesday!!!!

And since I’m revving up for the new season of Lost, I thought I’d celebrate by posting a picture of Sawyer. Sigh. I’d be all right being stranded on a creepy island, as long as this bad boy was there with me!

It’s Wednesday!!!!

And since I’m revving up for the new season of Lost, I thought I’d celebrate by posting a picture of Sawyer. Sigh. I’d be all right being stranded on a creepy island, as long as this bad boy was there with me!