Who else does NOT know what the heck "prada" is???

What I do while IM-ing with a friend...

Things you should know:

1. When you're boiling eggs, if you forget they are there and let all of the water boil away, the eggs will explode with a loud pop. This makes a mess. But it was so funny that the kids and I watched another explode.

2. If you feed a dog watermelon, they get diarrhea. This makes a mess. It is not fun to clean up. That's why I made the kids do it (HEY! They're the ones who fed the dog mellon in the first place.)

3. And this is what it looks like to drive behind a covered wagon:

So it's 5:30 in the morning and I'm at the computer. Why oh why would Miss Krystal be on the computer at this way too early time of day? Because of the new bed we bought.

It feels EXACTLY like a Tempur Pedic, but is better made and costs a lot less. AND IS JUST AS FIRM, which the lady assured me up one side and down the other that it is not. She said it felt NOTHING like a Tempur Pedic and that it was super ultra soft. NO WAY could this mattress be considered firm. Lying bitch! Anyway, there was this awesome review online and I checked up on the award they'd been given by the orthopedic association. Sounded like a good idea, and if I liked Tempur Pedics it would have been awesome because you save a nice chunk of money buying it directly from the manufacturer.

I. Will. Never. Do. That. Again.

They ask to give them 48 hours before deciding on whether or not you like the mattress. I've given them a full week. My back hurts like it always does on too firm of a mattress (BTW, three of the children described it as firm and my daughter described is as "hard"). I don't know how on this planet people sleep on firm mattresses! I went to bed a little after midnight last night. Between then and about 5:15 this morning I woke up NINE TIMES with an appendage "asleep" and tingling or a severe aching shoulder (all caused from pressure points from a firm bed). The last two times I had buzzing in my head to go with the asleep arm, leg, aching shoulder, whatever. That's an average of once every 38 minutes. And of course I have to find another position and wait for my limb to stop tingling or the ache to subside before falling back to sleep, so it isn't like I actually slept for 38 minutes inbetween. This can only happen with pressure points, which aren't suppose to exist on memory foam types of beds.

Anyway, it's been a week and it is getting worse instead of better as time goes by.

Today I will have to go out and find a twin sized mattress to fit into our bedroom next to the king sized bed that I'd like to douse with lighter fluid and throw a match on (after hauling it outside of course so the entire house didn't go up in flames). I swear to you, I slept better on the blow up Aero mattress than I do on this super firm POS.

Soft my ass! As compared to what? CONCRETE?!?!

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

I sure miss you,

And it doesn't hurt any less

the longer you're gone.

My heart still aches

and I still cry,

for you.

I would like to know G-d's purpose for chiggers. Anyone? I have them...on the sides of my breasts and under my breasts. I suppose that's better than my crotch.

OH! Like the sunburn? Ain't it purdy??? Just another reason for me to play with my own tits...I mean scratch my breasts uncontrollably. I'm just really grateful that I chose to go to the lake to sunbath instead of laying out topless in my backyard like I had considered.

For those who are cocking your head sideways in confused, that is my cleavage. I know that many of you are use to the purky breasts of women who have not had children or the purky breasts of women who have been sucked, tucked and stuffed. I do not fall into either of those categories. My once "bodacious ta-ta's" (as they were called in high school) have sustained five little lives for a combined six years of breast feeding. That makes them bodacious in a different kind a way...a way that says purky breasts are NOT the end all.

And of course I don't have to worry about a stray needle popping one of them either.

Anyone remember those old Idaho Potato commercials? Well, for some reason, "Heigh-ho, I'm from Idaho!" popped into my head a few minutes ago. Then I happened to think how poorly the same one-liner would go over today: "Hey, Ho! I'm from Idaho!" First, calling people a "Ho" these days isn't too bright. Second, who gives a rat's ass where you're from? Just a random thought from a chigger ridden, sun baked brain.

My dog has gas. I. Think. I. Might. Get. Sick.

Bear's been here... Krystal did a very good thing for him last night...well a few good things for him last night...

My work here is finished.

Squirrel goes berserk at church

A Day in the Life of Krystal in the KountryThis is a woodchuck, AKA a groundhog.

So why am I posting a picture of one? Because I had one of these suckers run out in front of my van yesterday afternoon. I screamed and slammed my breaks! The cute little guy ran under the van between the front and back axles (while it was still moving) and made it through to the other side UNSCATHED. He was a quick li'l critter!

Of course, I wasn't sure if he was alright or not immediately. I didn't see a smooshed corpse in the road, but for all I knew the cuddly little thing made it across the road and then dropped dead of a heart attack upon reaching his destination. Or maybe I just hit part of him and he was able to make it across the country road through shear momentum. I had to make sure, for peace of mind you know. I didn't want the guilt of taking this brown fuzz ball's life for no reason. I don't mind killing an animal for food. That's okay. However, killing an animal and leaving it is not okay. I really REALLY wanted this animal to not be hurt. I wasn't in the mood to scoop up roadkill, I don't know how to skin a woodchuck, and I have no recipes for Road Kill Stew. So I made a five-point-turn (that's what it takes in a gas-guzzling vehicle like mine on a back country road) so I could check. I didn't see him anywhere. So now I'm driving a ways in the opposite direction I need to go in so I could find an area of road that's straight and not curving and isn't between hills so I could turn around again without fear of being rammed by a speeding pick up truck, of which there are plenty.

And most of them are red.

Eventually I found a place to turn my vehicle around. I was totally THRILLED upon my return to find the sweet thing eating on the side of the road. The groundhog was fine. WHEW! I really needed to know that or else I would have worried all night about the poor thing. He was so adorable! He did take off once he recognized my huge mammoth mode of transportation coming back at him. I guess he figured that The Thing almost got him once and he wasn't taking another chance at "Crossing the Road Russian Roulette". THE THING is a formidable opponent (or so the tale goes with the lovable fury woodland creatures). I was happy to watch him run off into the woods nearby knowing he was going to be okay.

I truly hope that your day is a little brighter now that I've shared a wee bit of joy from A Day in the Life of Krystal in the Kountry.

What's wrong with Mr. & Mrs. Smith???

Why am I bringing this up? For two reasons: First, I almost died a couple weeks ago when my son called our minister by his first name. Second, people wonder why today's youth has a respect issue when it comes to adults. Well hell! Maybe it's because they call us by our first names! That puts us on the same level. DUUUUUUHHHH! It's not frigging rocket science here.

Growing up I called adults by their last name. It showed respect. My best friend's parents were Mr. and Mrs. "Smith" until I was THIRTY. I want to know what is wrong with that? Why am I "Miss Krystal" instead of "Mrs. Kelly" to a five-year-old? I even had a neighbor once tell my children to call her by her first name ONLY. Uh, NO! My children were instructed that at no time were they ever to call an adult by their first name alone...EVER. People say, "Oh, they need to feel comfortable with you." No, they need to remember that they are FIVE and I am NOT their little friend. I'm an adult and they are NOT on my level.

Children do not need to call adults by their first names to have some sort of "feeling" for adults anyway. I never did, and I had several adults that I felt really comfortable with. Now, we had a few friends who were like family to us. They were "Aunt" and "Uncle" So-n-So. But I NEVER called any of my parent's friends of my friend's parents by their first names. Besides that, I don't think that it's smart to let a my son's teenage friends feel "comfortable" with me as an adult anyway. I want them to have a certain fear and respect for me. AND I want them to know that if there is a problem, I'm not their little buddy, I'm an adult and I can handle the situation.

I don't particularily like being "Miss Krystal". I should be "MRS. KELLY". And I want to know what the problem is with that. Because I don't see one.

Because the Diva requested it...

Your Stripper Song Is

Closer by Nine Inch Nails "You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I?ve got no Soul to tell" When you dance, it's a little scary - and a lot sexy.

What Song Should You Strip To?

Because Sonia requested it...

Ten of life's simple pleasures.

1. Being held in my Bear's arms.

2. Making love to my Bear.

3. Dancing for my Bear.

4. Holding my babies.

5. Feeling my babies kick when they were still inside me.

6. Breastfeeding.

7. Being nekid.

8. Holding a pet.

9. Walking in untouched nature.

10. Eating in food someone else cooked knowing that someone else will clean it up.

I need help...

I need suggestions of amazingly seductive and sexy music to strip to. I'm looking for songs along the lines of Those Shoes (The Eagles), Reefer Head Woman (Aerosmith) and Dazed and Confused (Led Zeppelin). If you have any suggestions, please let me know. If you aren't familiar with these, you can find them at Barnes and Noble.

Thank-you!

Your Deadly Sins

Lust: 60%

Gluttony: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Envy: 0%

Greed: 0%

Pride: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You'll die of a yet to be discovered STD.

How Sinful Are You?

That was fun.

Alrighty then...someone explain how I can live in a place where people own horses like most of the country owns dogs, and yet there is NOT a country-western wear store within a two hour radius? Someone explain that irritating fact to me. Even more absurd is that in Ft. Lauderdale, I could have found a dozen within an hour's drive.

I was hit on while Bear was visiting. This is riveting...

He Says: Nice hat.

I Say: Thank-you.

He Says: Do you like country music?

I Think: Let's see, blue jeans, cowboy hat, cowboy boots, you're a fucking brain.

I Say: Yes, I do.

He Says (with a nod of the head, a semi-wink and half smile): Ever hear of the song, "Save a horse. Ride a coooow-booooy"?

I Say: Yes.

He Says: Where you from?

I Say: The Mall. With my husband and five children.

***Now let me tell you, the husband part doesn't always work, but the five children part can cool even Clinton's jets.***

He Says: Well that's nice. Real nice. You have a good evening then.

I Say: Thank-you.

A startling discovery!

I was up late Saturday with insomnia so I watched Talk Sex with Dr. Drew. Cuz hell, the bed is empty, why go? Anyway, they had this woman on who had plastic surgery on her vajayjay. Who knew this was done? I must admit, my interest was peaked. It's true. Women all over the country are having plastic surgery on their cooters. Here you can see the before and after pictures of vaginoplasty. Here you can see before and after shots of labiaplasty.

Of course, having had five children, I began to wonder. Is my cooter shot, too? Surely my kitty doesn't look like THOSE...things!

I am pleased as punch to report, that with the help of my handy-dandy hand held mirror, I can confirm that MY kitty doesn't look ANYTHING like those before shots. I have a pretty kitty that looks amazingly like the after shots. That's because I live for keigels. Lucky Bear!

I'm going to bed now. Kisses to you all!

Some friends of Bear's and mine, that we knew in Florida, invited us to a cookout last night. Her parents have a lakehouse just fifteen minutes away. We had fun, ate hot dogs, roasted marshmallows in a bon fire next to the Lake. It was nice to see them again.

I had a dream last night about my Daddy. He's never in my dreams. I wish he were. I dream about him and his things. Last night he had died. There was an office with his things in it were I could go there to see them. I just wanted to see his handwriting. I go in and they were cleaning it out. They had his filing cabinet with his handwritten tags in the slots and the drawers were falling open for me. I reached forward and pressed the lock button to keep the drawers and everything all inside. Then I suddenly realize that I don't have a key to open Daddy's precious filing cabinet. I woke up crying.

Now I have a serious headache.

The observants ones would have already noticed that I've changed my picture. Yes, I have a bit of exhibitionist in me. I'd probably post the really awesome nude shot of me, but Fred might go blind and Bear would be...well...a lot less than happy.

***But I have this most AMAZING shot by the fire place.***

Over 4,000 visits ...

I *AM* loved!!!

Krystal got laid last night!!!

It is indeed time for celebration. We went on last night for two entire uninterrupted hours. See, Bear snuck in and I already had the kids tucked up in bed and they didn't know Daddy was coming. He snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and yessssssss, Daddy was home. And Mommy's REEEEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLL happy!

Make up sex is great, but this we've-been-apart-too-fucking-long sex is just in a class by itself. We're talking multiples here, people. Amazing, wonderful, huge, repetitive multiples.

Yeah, my Bear is home until Wednesday and we have lost time to make up for. Lots and lots of lost time...

Donations of new unused condoms still in their wrappers may be sent to:

Bear and Krystal
#69 Bend Over Drive
Do Me Now, Kentucky 69069

This post is dedicated to The Blog Whore, who appears to have the same mother I do. I say we sends these lyrics on over to our mothers, babe! The name of the song is "Get Over It" and it's by my favorite band, the ~E~A~G~L~E~S...


I turn on the tube and what do I see
A whole lotta people cryin' 'Don't blame me'
They point their crooked little fingers ar everybody else
Spend all their time feelin' sorry for themselves
Victim of this, victim of that
Your momma's too thin; your daddy's too fat

Get over it
Get over it
All this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

You say you haven't been the same since you had your little crash
But you might feel better if I gave you some cash
The more I think about it, Old Billy was right
Let's kill all the lawyers, kill 'em tonight
You don't want to work, you want to live like a king
But the big, bad world doesn't owe you a thing

Get over it
Get over it
If you don't want to play, then you might as well split
Get over it, Get over it

It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You're makin' the most of your losin' streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weak

You drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little ass

Get over it
Get over it
All this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

Get over it
Get over it
It's gotta stop sometime, so why don't you quit
Get over it, get over it

My Morning Wal-Mart Adventure

I had to hit Wal-Mart this morning because I have a couple children with colds and I needed to get some vitamin C and a few other suppliments as well. Things were great. I went through check out, no waiting (way cool). Then I head over to customer service to return a package of card stock (customer service opens at 7:00 so I did my shopping first).

I get in line behind this man who has about twenty various small hardware items to return...from four different receipts. Of course he hasn't sorted which items go with which receipt so the girl behind the counter has to find each and every one. Yeah. Then he wants to purchase two other little things. Then he wants a gift card.

I'm standing behind him these TEN MINUTES with more people gathering and he has a conversation with the girl that goes like this:

Guy: Money transfers from Wal-Mart? How does that work?

Girl: You can have us transfer money from this Wal-Mart to any other Wal-Mart for another person to pick up.

Guy: How convenient. Everyone waits around for a Western Union and not everyone has one.

Girl: Yep.

Guy: So I can come here to shop and send money anywhere then?

Girl: Yes you can.

Guy: And someone else can pick it up?

Girl: Yes

I'm Thinking: No, you have to fly there and pick it up yourself, dumb-ass.

Guy: So, if I wanted to send money to someone in say, Florida, I could do that?

Girl: Yes, you could.

I'm Thinking: Yes, dumb-ass, she said ANY freaking Wal-Mart. That would include such incredibly remote places like Florida as well. Now why don't you ask about other distant places like California, Hawaii and Alaska while the rest of us STAND BEHIND YOU AND WAIT, dumb-ass. We have nothing better to do with our day.

Guy: That's pretty convenient. Thanks!

And he leaves all excited because he can wire money from Wal-Mart. It totally made his day.
I'm so freaking thrilled I can hardly stand it. Now please, just do my one return from my one receipt with three items on it so I CAN GO HOME. Thank-you. Now have an average day.

Well, this Bitch has had enough!

You see, I've asked my children repeatedly not to stomp around upstairs. They were told that the next time they did it they would walk the length of their room 100 times quietly so I don't hear them below. They didn't believe me. This morning they were thudding on the floor so hard that the candle sticks in my bedroom were vibrating. The two younger boys are walking it now. If I hear them and they are on number 99, they have to start over at one.

My second son pissed his pants again last night. Now if I promise a present in the morning or give him a gold dollar, he'll wake up dry 95% of the time. If he goings to get something, he'll wake up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom. But if he isn't getting something, he just pisses and has me do his laundry.

This is unacceptable. He's nearly eleven.

He is now writing five pages front and back, "I will not pee my pants at night." Think it's mean? You come do his frigging laundry and replace the damned carpet. Yes, he has ruined carpet. After he pissed his sheets, he simply moves to the floor. Then he pisses there as well. All because he doesn't want to get his lazy ass out bed at night.

But we are not finished for my morning! ONCE AGAIN, there are clothes and shoes and toys, belonging to the three younger boys, all over their room and bathroom. They also get to write for that. And we have a rule in this house, "if you don't work, you don't eat." Well, they didn't have their work done before breakfast, so the kitchen is now closed. They have to complete their punishments and catch up with school before snack, or they miss that as well. Same goes for lunch, afternoon snack, dinner...

Not that any of this is a surprise to them. I've been telling them this would happen. They've missed dinner before because of their bedroom being a mess. I'm not going to yell any more. I'm tired of asking politely. I'm all out of nice from asking for the same thing over and over again. I sound like a broken record. **I wonder if today's youth know what that phrase means....** Anyway,

This. Is. The. End. Of. It.

My Bear is coming!!!

Which is good because I need someone to take sexy pictures of me for my new icon. I have a few awesome nekid pictures BUT I think that Bear would be pissed and Fred would go blind. Soooo we'll just have to see what we come up with while he's here.

I'm so happy I could pee my pants!