Sorry About Your Fetish, But I'm Glad You Found My Blog, Part 5

It's that time again, folks. You know, this has become one of my favorite segments here at Inklings. My original e-card designed specifically for this section of my blog has been passed around like a $2 whore. Readers laugh, cry, and email me for more. I love it.

For those who are new, the rundown is going to go quickly, so hold on tight.

Google Analytics gives me exact search terms people have used that have landed them on my blog. I pick the weirdest ones to share with you all, along with what I have to say to the person who found my blog via those search terms.

You can read past Sorry About Your Fetish, But I'm Glad You Found My Blog segments here, here, here and here.

As always, these are in random order. Enjoy!

How can you defend drunk driving?- I'm actually at a loss with this one. Was someone caught drunk driving and they are trying to find excuses for their defense before their court hearing? Go with, "The leprechaun would have driven me home, but his unicorn was parked at another bar." That always works.

Do celebrities lie about their measurements?- Is the Pope Catholic? Does a bear shit in the woods? Seriously? If you don't think celebrities lie about their measurements, I have some great oceanfront property in Nebraska that you have to buy, sight unseen, of course...

Things your tattoo artist won't tell you- Well, there's the fact that... hey, wait. I'm a tattoo artist. Nice try, you almost got me with that one...

Bitch, let's grab coffee- Okay, hooker, let's go.

I know women envy my big boobs- Damn, you aren't proud of them, are you? Not sure how this search landed them on my blog, unless it's because of the post I wrote about living in perpetual boob envy of

Fan Favorites: It's a Southern Thing

Another favorite pulled from archives today, from December of 2010. Keep in mind, this one was written while I briefly lived in Arizona. I'm currently back in the south, and love it!! ~Tatted Mom



I'm proud to say I'm from the south. Born and raised in Virginia (it's below the Mason-Dixon line, so we qualify as southern, thank you), I've lived in the backwoods of my wonderful home state, in North Carolina and in South Carolina. I lived in England for 3 years in between North Carolina and South Carolina, and currently live in Arizona. Talk about culture shock for me, moreso with Arizona than even England. This western thing takes some getting used to, and yes, I understand I'm still in the southwest, but there are big difference between the south and the southwest. If you've never lived in the south, it's definitely something worth trying- at least visit. Most people never forget their trips to the south.

Common stereotypes of the south include everyone being country bumpkins and uneducated, all food is smothered in gravy, racism is everywhere, the women are sickly sweet to your face and a bitch behind your back, everyone carries guns, everyone goes hunting, religious fanaticism, and they're all Republicans. Of those statements, I can say that those stereotypes are false, true, semi-true, definitely true, semi-true, semi-true, semi-true, semi-true and false. Ha! You thought I was going to say they were all false, huh? No, I'm being honest here. The only two of those that are definitely false are the uneducated one and the Republican one, though I'm still arguing with myself on the Republican one.

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Fan Favorites: Jiggles and the Truffle Shuffle, All to Prove a Mom Point

Another post pulled from the archives! Enjoy!!

My daughter came to me last night, after dinner, and said, 'Mom, I'm fat. Just look at my belly.' She proceeds to lift up her shirt slightly, where all I see is a belly button surrounded by skin and muscle. She's almost 9, and it has already begun.

I'm not going to sit here and blame society for my daughter's developing self-consciousness, though with the way she has been raised for the last almost 9 years, I do feel it's a huge part of what's going on in her head. My daughter is not fat. She's not even remotely fat. The child almost has a six-pack because she's a little tomboy that gets outside, plays catch, plays tennis, loves sports. But for some reason, her post-meal belly was a cause of concern for her.

So, I pulled on my Mom big girl panties, and decided to take one for the team. I stood up, pulled up my shirt, and showed my daughter what fat looks like. 'See, honey. Fat jiggles' and I proceeded to shake my belly and my love handles. She fell onto the floor in laughter. Sheesh, sweetheart, don't kick Mommy while she's down, please, especially not when she's sacrificing some dignity to prove a point to you.

Finish reading Jiggles and the Truffle Shuffle, All to Prove a Mom Point...





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Fan Favorites: My Rights as a Mom

Pulling another fan favorite out of archives today. Hope y'all enjoy!! ~Tatted Mom

Rights are found everywhere; human rights, civil rights, animal rights, child rights, patient rights, criminal rights... but what about Mommy Rights? I actually googled 'Mom rights' before starting this article (see, I do research for my blog), and the only thing that really came up were rights that single moms had. There are 'parental rights' out there, but they are more for making sure the kids are taken care of and what happens if they aren't. When I think Mommy Rights, I'm not thinking legal mumbo jumbo, what my core job as a parent is to my kids, and the consequences that occur if I don't fulfill that job. I'm talking about the added perks that we get for carrying a child for 9 months, gaining weight, getting stretch marks, living on virtually no sleep for years, never having personal time- not even in the bathroom, living on coffee, and constantly having to wipe butts and noses, tie shoes, turn shirts around the proper way, break up sibling fights, cook, clean and worry, a.k.a. the Joys of Motherhood.

As a Mommy, I have the Right to:

1. Protect My Children By Any Means Necessary. This includes, but is not limited to:
•  Threatening a school age bully myself, in a non-restraining order manner.
•  Making sure that when my children leave the house on a cold day that they have on underwear, thermal underwear, pants, a T shirt, a long sleeve shirt, a turtleneck, a sweater, 2 pairs of socks, a hoodie, a thick jacket, gloves, a hat, ear muffs and boots. Sorry if you can't move very much, it's for your own good.
• Killing an individual that lays a hand on my child in an inappropriate manner, a.k.a. a pedophile. Knock on wood this never happens, but if it were to occur, this right covers Mommy getting a lawyer that will try his or her best to stack the jury with sympathetic moms and dads to where Mommy comes away as 'Not Guilty' and can continue to protect my babies from outside of a jail cell.
2. Know What Is Going on in My Children's Lives At All Times. This means I will talk to my...

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Fan Favorites Friday- Kids and Cussing 101

This week I pull from the archives from over a year ago.

Kids and Cussing 101



I'm a cusser. Not the best thing for a mom to be, but hey, we all have our vices. I worked as pretty much the only female in a male dominated shop, company, and industry for 3 years; I've heard it all, participated in just about every dirty, nasty conversation there is, and, quite honestly, had to hold my own as the only female. So, I learned how to have a quick tongue (figuratively speaking), blast back insults at the men, and developed a thick skin when it came to raunchy conversation. And let me tell you, now that I've left that life behind, I've had a few people tell me they miss my ability to stand up and put people in their place.

Now that I'm back to being a stay at home mom, the cussing is a flaw more than an asset, as it was in my old life. My 8 year old knows what cuss words are, and knows not to repeat them. My 6 year old, however, will repeat just about anything for a reaction- at home, at school, on the phone with family... yeah, that was a fun one to explain. And, while it's sometimes hilarious when a kids cusses (you can't tell me it isn't, depending on how they use a word, the context, and if it was even used correctly), the hardest thing to do as a parent is to not burst out laughing when you are trying to get the 6 year old into the bath, saying 'How about you just go get into the bath?' and out of nowhere he says, 'Yeah, how about I just go brush my balls?' True story. I couldn't make that up if I wanted to. (That little saying apparently came from daycare, by the way, not me. His sister ratted him out on that one.)


Continue Reading Kids and Cussing 101 here....

A great place to find other blogs to follow!

Visit Reflexions for this weekend's blog hop!

Fan Favorites Friday- Wait, When Did I Become Retro?

Fan Favorites Friday

I've decided to pull posts out of my archives on Fridays, starting with fan favorites, and throwing in some of my favorites as well.

Today, I'm reposting 'Wait, When Did I Become Retro?' from January of last year!

Enjoy!!

This week has been Spirit Week at my kids' school, and each day they've had something fun to look forward to participating in. Today is Retro Day, and I woke up this morning in a panic. My daughter had already decided she was going as a hippie. But my son, yeah, NO idea.

So, I jumped out of bed, hauled ass to his room, and began flinging clothes out of his drawers. Seriously, not much to work with at all. Until I saw it... a black dress shirt with a larger collar, and some semi-faded jeans. Retro day, right? Wait, the 80s aren't considered retro now, are they? Holy Garden Hose Batman, they are! Oh shit....



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