Doctor's Note

Dear Internets,

Please excuse Tanis the Redneck Mommy from her absence on the ole intertubes. She has recently been struck down with some sort of virus that is slowly causing her brains to seep out her nostrils. She's hoping to staunch the loss of brain power by stuffing kleenex and crumpled toilet paper up her nose but so far her efforts are proving fruitless.

While her presence may not be felt on computer screens through out the world, her mucous particles are traveling far and wide with each sneeze which escapes her sickly body.

Despite the toxic nature of the plague she has contracted, she is surviving. Barely. Her children occasionally prod her into consciousness to ensure she is still alive and to force her to feed them. They are thoughtful like that. She is amusing herself by occasionally pulling her head off her pillow to hack into her children's facebook account and leave embarrassing status updates on their profile page. Her children are threatening to hide her laptop from her if she persists in telling the world how cute their tushies are and how their mother's love makes them feel as though they are shooting rainbow beams out their bums.

Posting will resume once the snot subsides and she can once again hold her head upright without it threatening to fall off and roll down her pathetically long driveway.

She thanks you all for your continued support and asks that you give thanks for the two ply tissue with lotion now widely available in the supermarkets.

Signed,

The Management.

Charity Work Ain't Always Easy

Last night I emailed a naked photo of myself to my husband.

Before you get the wrong idea about me and think I often email naked pics of myself to Boo, let me stop you. I don't. I prefer to tease him by telling him I'm going to send him a naked picture of myself and then switch it out for a grotesque image of some chick with boobs that hang down to her ankles and more facial hair than grizzly bear. He tends to get annoyed (and disgusted) by this bait and switch, but I like to think it keeps things interesting.

At the very least, it's demonstrating to him that no matter how bad I look naked, he could always be hitched to someone who looks worse.

So far, it's worked wonders at keeping our love life healthy.

But yesterday, much to my husband's surprise and delight, the pictures were actually nude photos of my jiggly white arse.

"Holy crap! You look beautiful!" he crowed when he called after viewing them for the first time.

"Jeez Boo. Don't sound so shocked. My ego is fragile."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just when you said you were posing naked for that charity calendar, I somehow pictured you fully clothed, wearing a burlap sac and a paper bag over your head. It must be a defense mechanism upon learning your wife is going to show her bits to people she's not married to."

"The human mind is a powerful tool," I laughed.

"You look really nice. Like a classy porn star."

"I can cross that off my life list now. I always wanted to look like a classy whore."

"I can honestly tell you, I don't think I've loved you more than I do right now."

"You wouldn't have said that if you saw me after the shoot."

"Why's that?"

"Boo, I was naked in a farm field in early evening. I was bug bait. My boobs are still full of skeeter bites and for days after I was scratching my arse cheeks like a two bit hooker does after a busy Friday evening. All that and I sat on a thistle."

(I also may have trespassed and broke a law or two in order to get the photo. But let's not talk about that.)

"You know, I always knew your blog would lead you to new things. But I think I hoped it would be for new things requiring you to keep your clothes on."

"Heh. Look at the bright side Boo. Think of your family's faces when I can honestly tell them my job is posing naked for the Internets."

And that, right there, is what I like to call the upside of life.

Heh.

A big hearty thank you to Kristina at Gingerlily Boudoir for not blushing when I accidentally flashed her my cooter as I swatted the bugs away. Not only are you a true professional, but you take mighty fine pictures of slightly overweight, pale, white girls wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots.  Also, a round of applause to Nicole for her special efforts of painting me up to look like a true porn star.

You can purchase the Blogger Body Calendar here. All proceeds after printing costs are being donated to the National Eating Disorders Association.

A charity totally worth getting bit in the arse for.

I Became the Hippo From Fantasia For a Day

I'd like to take a minute to thank each and everyone of you who read my previous blog post and helped donate to make my young friend, Tanner's, final dream come true. Thanks to Scott Stratten and each of you we were able to raise over 26 000 dollars in 30 hours.

Tanner will be able to die at home now. And that's the best gift anyone could have given him and his family.

I was originally supposed to be in New York to join Tanner and his family and celebrate his life while wearing a tutu but it didn't work out. However, I am a woman of my word and promised I would still wear my tutu and think of Tanner while I'm homebound in Alberta.

For the record, a tutu stops looking attractive on anyone once you hit the age of 12. Or weigh more than 50 pounds.

My children are still laughing at me.

Oh go on and giggle. I know if would. If it weren't me looking like a giant elephant in tulle.

There's shorts under that tutu. I swear.

The cowboy boots really add something, no?

If I never see another tutu again, it will be too soon.