Bless Your Heart, Tramp: And Other Southern Endearments
Celia Rivenbark
Language: English
Pages: 240
ISBN: 0312343426
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From the wickedly hilarious pen of Southern humorist Celia Rivenbark comes a collection of essays that brings to mind Dave Barry (in high heels) or Jeff Foxworthy (in a prom dress).
Step into the wacky world of "womanless wedding" fund-raisers, in which Bubbas wear boas. Meet two sisters who fight rural boredom by washing Budweiser cans and cutting them into pieces to make clothing. Learn why the word snow sends any right-thinking Southerner careening to the Food Lion for extra loaves of bread and little else.
Humor columnist and slightly crazed belle-by-birth Celia Rivenbark tackles these and other lard-laden subjects in Bless Your Heart, Tramp, a hilarious look at Southern---and just plain human---foibles, up-close and personal.
So pour yourself a glass of sweet tea and curl up on the pie-azza with Bless Your Heart, Tramp.
and blathered about how it sure had been a long time and he said it sure had been, and then I said I was going to try the crab balls, and he said wonder where they get those, and I said ‘eyuk.’” That night, I watched 60 Minutes and listened to public radio to find out what was going on in the world so I could segue artfully from “Yes, it has been a long time and you look just the same, too” to a thoughtful discussion on Y2K, Kosovo, and an obscure Ukranian opera singer. My husband, not the
want to spend entire decades styling their lustrous, waist-length hair while waiting for that All Important call from Ken. No, they just want to appear on Maury, looking slutty and saying stuff like, “You are an ungrateful, disrespectful slut, Mama.” Then they tell the world that they’re saving their allowance to become men and IT’S ALL THEIR MOTHER’S FAULT. And then there’s Ken. Whoa. What has happened to the blond and buff surfer-dude-slash-tycoon, oh he of the Turtle Wax hair, chiseled chin,
feast! What about your character breakfast? Did you book Pooh at the Crystal Palace or Pluto and Goofy at Liberty Square or Donald and Mickey at Restaurantosauras?” � 2006 by Celia Rivenbark “Huh?” “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she huffed. Turning away from me, she summoned a few of the other moms over. “She’s going to Disney, and she hasn’t booked her character breakfasts yet.” Some of them laughed so hard they turned inside out. My friend Lisa whipped out her dog-eared copy of the 475-page
refrigerator, which is working beautifully, by the way, accept that he will have the coolant coil replaced by the end of the day and all your meat will have spoiled. Rule 6: You know that tired old saying about how you never have sex anymore once you get married? Believe it. Rule 7: Don’t fight about money. Life is too short, aspiring newlyweds! Just keep two dozen or so credit cards and use one to pay the balance on the other. What? That’s insane? You’ll create a river of revolving debt that
put a bike rack in your front yard and stay a few years. I tried to be a Total Woman for forty-eight hours, at home and office. I did housework in baby-doll pajamas and white go-go boots. I installed a pink lightbulb in the bedroom. I lowered my normally obnoxiously loud voice in the office and purred at my male coworkers. I made coffee for the boss AND poured. I was making myself very, very sick indeed. By the end of the second day, my husband actually pined for the acid-tongued woman