So you think you want a Tatoo....where?

The other day I was listening to this "young lady" talking about getting a new tattoo this weekend. She wanted to know what a few of us thought, so of course I wasn't afraid to tell her.

Most of us in our forties realize that this package called the human body never stops changing. Therefore, boredom with your body should never be a problem. We arrive small, and most of us die much larger and completely different looking than when we arrived. Women pop new parts, like pop corn, as puberty sets in, little boobies turn into popped out moving melons.

This youngin' thought getting a tattoo on one of those parts would be an attractive thing to add to her ever changing parts. "Ah huh," I said with a grin.

"Well my dear, consider this, from someone who was once young and not so old, your boobies are ever changing parts. You no longer have what you started with, and I promise by the time you reach your mid forties, they will not look like they do now."

She was quick to remind me, "Well not everyone gets old and fat! I'm going to stay thin and perky!"

What a jerky little turkey, "Ah huh, well they're gonna do one of three things my dear."

"What's that," she said with a grin.

"Your mamie jammies by the time you're 45 will either, bloom and fall down, wither and shrivel, or they will be perky and firm laying in the ground. If your alive at the ripe age of 45 they will have changed. There is one other possibility, you may loose them to breast cancer. If that happens, well then you've paid for a tattoo that so doctor simply cut off."

Her eyes grew big, as a couple of older ladies giggled, one of them gently told her, "Miss Kathy is right. I got me a rose on my Bobbie when I was about 25. I was a young, sweet sexy thing! But after a couple of children and a few mammograms, well that rose gives new meaning to a long stemmed rose."

Ain't that the truth, after mammograms I'm surprised they even look anything like they did after they release them. I remember the first mammogram I had. As the tears ran down my cheeks, I asked the nurse to fling my boobs out the 7Th floor window when I reached the ground. I was just hoping for a bungee effect, maybe they'd go back to a similar form. She laughed and said it won't hurt so much next time. I was thinking, "Next time my ass, if I ever get out of this machine you will not see me back here again!"

Do you really need a tattoo? Think about what that butterfly just above your hinnie is gonna look like at 65. On your ankle you think, well okay when you're 80 and your ankles swell up bigger than the tops of your knees, how pretty will that be? Come on, think about what you're doing.

The Lake Lanier Memo I'd like to write:

To: Residents living and drinking water from Lake Lanier

From:Kathlene Fisher

Subject: Help maintain the water levels in Lake Lanier

Date: 7/26/09

It has been brought to our attention that the governors of both ALA. and FL. are demanding several thousand gallons of drinking water be sent down the Chattahoochee River daily to maintain the luxury life styles of play in a man made recreational area in ALA. and the harvesting of muscles in FLA. It is also obvious to water consumers and residents around Lake Lanier that the Forefathers of Lake Lanier, failed to provide a clause covering residents and water recipients in the event of drastically low Lake Lanier levels. Therefore, I propose the following to help maintain our lake levels for drinking and playing, since Lake Lanier is in our own back yard not ALA or FLA.

First, we all know "creamy crack" seems to be a horrible problem if you play,work or exercises when the temp. in GA goes above 85 degrees. I propose you go head work, play and exercise until your hearts content. Find out when the dam will be releasing down stream in your county; record that time a week in advance if possible. Find out how long it would take you to get above stream 15 minutes prior to that scheduled release. After you know all the facts and times let your hinnie get as Briny as possible, jump in an old vehicle, (preferably one with leather seats you can clean up,) and soak in Lake Lanier 15 minutes prior to the scheduled release. By the way it would be great if you could drink at least 16 oz. of your favorite beverage while you're soaking.

Second, as the warning for the dam sounds, run way down stream, and relieve all that pressure from your last 16 oz. drink. If you see any of those water wasters from ALA or FLA. make sure you smile as you tell them, "We sure love providing water for your muscles and entertainment!"

If they demand water from our only water source, well alrighty then, we will provide it. I guess you know where we rank on the list of priorities: Number one goes to ALA for their Resort Water fun, Number two belongs to the mighty muscles in FLA. (After all where would we be if there were no clams in FLA.?) And last but not least, ranking third on the charts are the residents and water consumers around Lake Lanier in GA. With that in mind, "Do you think the water will oxidize before it gets to FLA and ALA? " ;)

What's a little gas in Class?

I love Bannana and peanut butter sandwiches, especially with an icy cold Coke Zero, add a little fruity yogurt and I'm one happy fat camper. That's basically my favorite thing to eat especially before math class. But you guessed it, it gives me the tuity, fruity, farts.



Ironically, the math instructor demands everyone sets at the front of the class. Heaven forbid if you get there late. Of course our class, always fill in the middle of the room first, so if you're late you may end up in the front and center row, right behind "Mr. Ponytail," as many of my classmates call him.



(Actually, he's a really nice guy. We all just wish he would roll out of bed and shower before noon. Something, he has yet to do prior to class. The class starts at 12:45, but he strolls in somewhere between one and one-fifteen.Usually his hair is a mess, his shirt maybe half in or half out, depending on how you look a it. He is obviously, just waking up-after sleeping in his attire. Some find it funny, others just find it disgusting. But, I think we've all come to think of him like a little brother who can teach us "the dreaded math" that we just want to pass.)



Anyway...because I stayed outside chattering too long, I arrived after the class had filled up way beyond the middle; to my dread, I ended right smack in the middle front row. My stomach began churning, then the little trumpet farts began, right behind them came the gushing of chunky peanut butter mixed with gassy coke hitting the ostomy bag. Two of my girlfriends started giggling. They tried to keep it down, but then I started laughing and all the bodily noises grew worse.



The teacher whipped around. We all tried to stop laughing, but couldn't. "What in the hell is so funny?" He asked as he glared at the three of us.



Stephanie points at me and blurts out,"Well Tooty Fruity here, ate another one of those Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwiches and drank a Coke. She has gas so bad, that, she's making all kinds of funny sounds."



The class just roared with laughter. The teachers face turned three shades of red as he said,"Oh." After we all calmed back down, the teacher continued writing on the board and talking, but seemed to stop and smirk as I gurgled and growled and spurted through math class.



A few days latter, there were really strange sounds coming from the class next door. The teacher turned around, "Kathy, is that you?"



Giggling I said, "Well if it is, I'm in a lot of trouble." The whole class roared with laughter again. Math can be fun, with just a little humour! :D

Remember Mr. Moefart?

Do any of you remember Mr. Moehart, our 8Th grade Michigan teacher? Always a bit insulting, actually you could compare his demeanor with Simon Powell, usually crude. I can't recall anyone who liked his class. He had a way of making all of us who were already geeky, feel even worse.

For example he had a way of knowing whether you read your assignment, or not the night before. Michigan history was never my favorite subject. One afternoon after a late tennis match the night before he called on me, just before I fell asleep.

"Miss Mason, are you awake back there?"

"Yes Mr. Moefart." The whole class busted out laughing.

"What did you call me?"

"Mr. Moehart."

"Yes, I thought that's what you said." As he crinkled his eyebrows and rapped my desk with his map pointer. "Miss Mason, could you tell us the names of dinosaur fosils that were found in the Great Lakes after the ice age?"

I was thinking, who give a rat's hindy. But couldn't resist replying, "Well Sir, obviously the ones who couldn't swim, and the ones that couldn't take the frosty cold waters. Honestly, I really don't know."

He taps his map stick. "You didn't read your assignment did you Miss Mason?"

"No sir."

"People, you're going to have to read your assignment if you're going to pass my class!"

A few weeks went by and we were ever so close to finishing that dreaded class and we'd finally be moving on to High School. Everything in me wanted to have just one more laugh. I took some balloons to school on a warm May day. Several of my girl fiends and I spent our lunch hour filling them up with water. We were in the bathroom, not far from Mr. Moefart's class, on the second floor.

We scurried to the banister, over looking the steps. Ironically, Mr Moefart had finished his lunch, and was prissily moving up the steps on his way to Michigan History Class. What joy filled my soul, as I quickly popped up and drooped a big red one right on the old farts head!

I squealed like a little pig! "OH MY GOSH."

My friends quickly grabbed me, and we scurried back to the bathroom. We all were laughing so hard; some of us wet our pants. I couldn't believe it, that was a 110% drop. But then the fear over came me. Mr. Moehart was screaming, "Which one of you little brats did that?"

I heard some of my guy friends saying, "We don't know."

I was so glad they didn't rat me out, but what was I going to do? I knew I would start laughing as soon as I seen Mr. Moehart. There was no way I could go to class. So I asked some of my friends to lock me in a stand up hall locker just outside Mr. Moehart's class.

I stepped in, and they shut the door. One of my girlfriends said, "We can't do this she'll suffocate." Steve Riesbig stuck a lunch room straw in through one of the vents. "Kathy, breathe through this if you run out of air."

I laughed and said, "Okay, just don't tell."

As far as I know Mr. Moefart never knew who drooped that water balloon on his head. :)

Sometimes it's necessary to just blend in!

That was one Hot date!

I love pinto beans and cheese with some "Franks Red Hot Sauce" on top. I eat that stuff on everything! I love the warming sensation and the flavor. It kicks the endorphins up too, making me more lively. :)

Another thing that really kicks the endorphins up is jalapenos. Mark I use to have so much fun in Louisiana. There was a fantastic Mexican Restaurant called "Casaco's" in Monroe LA. They had the best wet burritos, and loaded nachos I have ever ate.

One day the kids were going home from school with friends, and Mark had the day off from work. We decided that would be the perfect day to really enjoy ourselves. We loaded up the boat and headed to Caney Lake. Hardly anyone else was there, so we enjoyed skinny dipping and giggling most of the morning. After that, we head back home, to get cleaned up. Then we drove to Monroe to Casaco's. I ordered a big plate of those loaded nachos, with extra jalapenos and a big frozen Margarita. (I bet you know where this is going; don't you? :)

After eating most of that, and drinking all the Margarita I was anxious to get home. I was feeling very happy and extremely horny. I was gonna give Marky 'the hot child in the city!" He was thrilled, so we quickly paid the bill and headed home.

The clothes were flying as we walked through the door. We jumped in the bed and commenced to do "the wild thing." All was going well, when all of a sudden those jalapenos erupted. I jumped up, and shot off to the bathroom which fortunately was very close. I barely got over the stool when I erupted like a pressurized volcano. Woo Wee, what a flame thrower. Let me tell you, those jalapenos are hotter coming out, than they are going in! Hot Child in the city my hindy, that was more like Fire!

Pour Mark's laying in there waiting, and waiting. Finally, he calls out, "Kathy, are you alright?"

"No; not really, I don't think I'm gonna be able to finish. I think I ripped my self a new butt hole, or else I've torched this one, it's smoking. By the way I think I know how Earth, Wind and Fire came up with that song, "Fire!"

Needless to say I rarely ordered "extra jalapenos" after that.

Ostomies-depending on your outlook is a Blessing or Curse.

I was listening to our pastor the other day talk about Paul. Paul was blessed with a "thorn in his flesh," to keep him humble. (See 2ND Corinthians 12, if you'd like to confirm this.) Anyway whatever his "thorn" was he didn't like it. He asked God at least three times to take it away from him. Personally, I bet he even went as far as I have. I have been so disgusted about wearing an ostomy bag that I've asked, "Lord, if you can't make me like I was, can I please come home; not latter, now Lord?"

Like Paul God says,"Sorry no, get busy doing what you're suppose to be doing."

Reluctantly, I move on, not in my strength, but His grace and strength. Maybe you have a thorn in your flesh too. It's not always easy is it?

I have come to appreciate somethings about my "bag." For instance, I was on a date with a guy who almost raped me. This happened with more than one guy. Some guys think you "owe them something," when they spend a few dollars on you. (Guys like that are simply slimmy jerks. Get away from them.)

Imagine if I had wore a bag then. First it probably would have scared the pee piddles out of them. If not, well I have no doubt that's when I would have said, "Okay Asshole, this is where the shit really hits the fan!" With that they would have went home smelling like they were!

Or imagine, if an intruder ever enters my house at night after I'm asleep. First they'd be greeted by a deformed naked lady with a baseball bat, or shot gun which ever I grab first. After I beat the crap out of them, or shoot them, I'll be dumping a bag of nastiness all over them. Then we will wait for the police to arrive.

If you're blessed with life- wearing a "bag", in spite the negative, think about all the positive situations from it! We also have "blow by" which is an awesome gift for others as well as ourselves! ;)

Stop at the next Gas Station!

You know the moment it strikes and it has to come out. My two sisters were cleaning houses together a few years back. The youngest sister says to the middle sister, "You have to stop at the very next station!"

Beth jumps out of the car, runs right past the checkout counter to the bathroom. Steph goes in behind here, to casually talk to the attendant, while Beth relieves her self.

As the two ladies talked, Beth walks up to the counter whitter than a ghost. Immediately, Steph asks, "Beth what's wrong." Beth just shakes her head. "Mam, do you have a bucket, a rag and maybe some cleaner?"

The attendants eyes grow as big as saucers, "What happened in there?"

A little teary eyed Beth says, "Well, I'd rather not say. But it was more than a double flusher, and on the turd flush well it overflowed. It splattered, and well it's just real bad."

Now the attendant's just got to see for her self. But Beth is quick to caution, "Mam, you really shouldn't go in there right now. I grabbed that mop in the hallway, but I really need a few more things to clean it up."

Now the gas station attendant becomes really excited, and throws her hands on her hips, "OMG, not the kitchen mop!"

"Well, I don't know what you used it for, but I just mopped the bathroom floor with it."

By this time, Steph knew it was best just to slink back out the door, and not say another word to the attendant or Beth. A few minutes latter Beth returns to the car. "Beth, what happened in there?"

"Steph, it was real bad." Needless to say neither of them have been back to Gram's Quick Stop again. :)

Food for thought for the day: Best friends are like Butt cheeks, always together, but when $#itty things happen, well they separate for a while. But they always come back together. If were separated, I hope we'll be back together soon!

Hoppy Easter

Unless you're really sick big meals with the family are always fun and an adventure. There's always someone who loves to fill up on the nastiest things they can find just to torment others latter with the giggle and the smell.

I'm no exception. I love deviled eggs I'll eat everyone you don't eat and love every minute of it! But you see I've been blessed with the blow by effect. Everything going in to me, will exit into the pouch, or as I call it the bag, or in instances like this it's better known as the "Abyss!" No one smells anything for a while.

Everything is quiet on the home front, but people start watching. As the bag begins to puff up, people begin to worm. Just before I leave for the bathroom, everyone has that, "Oh No, she's gonna blow!" Look of terror on their face.

If it's nice outside they head outdoors. But God forbid the ones who waited too long and have to go to the bathroom after me! Those are the poor souls who really need your prayers. No can of Lysol will even touch what I can put out after a few deviled eggs, or a good pot of beans.

In fact the last Christmas Realtors luncheon I went to in Buford GA. We all had a wonderful time for about four hours. Then I stood up fully blown to capacity on that right side. I went in that bathroom, and just like Vamoose when I came out after three flushes and half a can of aerosol, well two thirds of my friends had packed quickly and left the building. Those were some smart Realtors right there.

Another Public Bathroom Adventure!

Traveling far is always something I dread, when ever I know it's gonna be more than a few hours to the journey's end. This past weekend was no exception. We stopped at a roadside park just over the Alabama border. There were plenty of empty stalls. I sat down far away from anyone.

Naturally,Sister Mary Elephant came waddling in. Of course she walked into the stall next to mine, and immediately started complaining about the smell. Do you ever wonder why people choose to go to the bathroom next to someone unless they have too? I always try to avoid the crowd, when I'm gonna pull my pants down.

Anyway, she waddles in, throws a pile on the floor. As she slammed the stall door, my door bursts wide open. Lovely, I have one hand on my bag while the other hand is wiping the neck of my bag out. Quickly, I throw one foot up, before I am totally exposed to the four winds. (What a balancing act!) Quickly, I'm trying to finish, before anyone else walks in. Just about that time Sister Mary Elephant lets out this curdling, "Owee!"diarrhea of the nastiest kind sprays all over the floor. Now I'm really trying to get out of there. The smell is overwhelming and splattering.

As I exit, I was so tempted to give it that extra hard shove, so her door might fling open, but I didn't. I heard her again, "That damn colon cancer is such a b*#ch!" That poor lady was really suffering, bless her heart.

Traveling tips for those who wear Ostomy Bags

Traveling is generally a challenge if you wear an ostomy bag, or at least it is for me. It's so threatening worrying about whether you'll have an accident in the car, or in someone else's bed if you spend the night.

I've learned a few things that help, since I began wearing a bag six years ago. You might find these tips helpful as well.

On any trip that you take more than an hour from home. Carry the following in a freezer zip lock bag: A precut wafer and bag, (don't worry if your bag doesn't match your shoes. ;) Disposable wipes, and either a baby underlay or a dogie training pad. A clean pair of underwear, or none if you don't like them.:) You may also want a change of clothes, or if you recognize the signs right away don't worry about it.

By the way don't let these little incidents dominate your life. Into every life a little poo must be released. *#it happens, you know that! If anyone is rude and tries to see what you're doing in a public bathroom, do what I've done more than once. Ask them what they're looking at, and then show them the moon. I guarantee they'll go on, or really have something to talk about.

Once you're in a stall, inspect the situation. Chance are if you smell poo, it probably is, or you're leaking somewhere. Spread the pad on the floor beneath you. Careful remove any clothes that need to come off jeans, panties and socks can all be hung up on the door. (cover the crack if you can for privacy.)

Get at least 4 of those wipes ready. DO NOT PUT THESE IN THE TOILET. They'll plug it up. No doubt, what you smelt was real, and ready for a change. Put the clean wafer and bag either between your teeth, or on the toilet paper rack, but only if the bathroom is really, really clean. Remember that bag and wafer are going to be on your skin, and can expose you to lots of disease as they touch anything nasty.

Ignore, Sister Mary Elephant next to you, who's probably carrying on to the high heavens. She probably makes a bigger splash and stink than you do by far. Imagine her grunting, and killing every live thing around her as she goes.

Sure enough it's a doozy, I thought so. It's okay. Just peal it back. The freezer bag should be empty now. Roll the zipper part back so it stays open. Put the nasty wafer in the bag. Use those wipes to get all the poop off yourself. After you're cleaned up it's time to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Wipe the whole area off with dry toilet paper. (If you're prone to bleeding, or irritated skin around the stoma, carry stoma powder in your purse or zip lock bag. Put a light coating of powder on, if you need it. Raw sore skin only gets worse if you don't take care of it. Don't be discouraged, I've been there it'll get better.)

Put the new wafer and bag back on. Aren't you glad you precut that Mammy Jammy? It saves so much time. Every nasty item, including the pad whether it's soiled or not, needs to go in that freezer bag. Zip lock it shut, and take it to a can that gets dumped often. Scrub your hands and fingernails extremely well, with lots of soap.

If you're staying over night all the same preparations need to be made, plus you need to watch your diet. Don't eat things that might cause an explosion, like beans, or too much corn. Popcorn Farts can blow a Velcro bag wide open as well. Make sure you can jump in the shower and change the sheets if you need to. Most people I've stayed with have been extremely gracious and kind. If they love you enough to let you stay, they will understand if you have an accident. But honestly, I've never messed up any ones bed, except my own when I ate too much of what I love, or I'm on drugs from a surgery.

Hope this information helps you or a loved one. God Bless you and happy trails to you til we meet again. :)

The Squeaky, Stinky Cure for Crohn's

I ran track my freshmen, sophomore and junior years in high school. My nick name was Choo-choo. I started out like a slow locomotive, as I heated up I picked up amazing speed. What most people didn't know was that I ran faster to get away from my own gas. Yes, they lingered. That song Wilson Philips used to sing, "Did you have to let it linger," still cracks me up. :)

Yesterday a lady from the Corhn's & Colitis chapter in Atlanta called me. She wanted me to gather a group and participate in a walk for the cure of Corhn's and Colitis. I often think about things I need to do when I lay down at night. Some of my most creative thoughts begin or end just before, or as I sleep. As I lay there thinking about that conversation I must have fell asleep.

I have to share the dream I had with you. :) I dreamed I was on this track with my friends I had gathered for this C&C Walk. Our group was known as the "Fart Fuzzes." (My Dad still calls me his Little Fart Fuzzy. Squeeze me tight and you're almost always guaranteed a fart.)Any way we were chugging around the track passing other walkers, smiling and saying hello as we passed each other. Every group had their nick names tagged to the back of their shirts. There were all kinds of humorous names, The Squeakers, The Trumpeters, We Blow Hard were just a few of their group names.

As the walk went on there was the constant sight and sounds of all kinds of gas being released. Pretty soon their was a huge green cloud, of gas hovering over the spectators stands. Whew Wee it was nasty, some would even say toxic.

All of a sudden in the crowd President Obama jumps up and shouts, "Eureka! That's the solution to all our fuel needs. We need to harness fart power!" We all stooped. We began looking at each other, wow. Soon all those walkers became so excited, the bathrooms were at full capacity.

Fart power was harnessed, and they finally found several solutions and a few cures, from the excess money made from all our gas. Are your dreams that creative? What do you dream?

It's no sin to have a little gas now and then!

The doctor gags as he said, "Yes Mr. Tanner, that was very loud! But I'd like to listen to your heart."
" Oh sure doctor, I thought you wanted to hear me Fart."

We've all had it now and then-just a little gas trying to make it's way to the air. Try as we may it's worst to hold it in. So we fidget and squirm, until at last there it goes. Was it a trumpet sounding off? Or worse yet a silent, but deadly who leaves the thick green cloud. Lucky for me I've developed what's known as "blow by." There is no smell until I enter the stall. I unroll the neck of my bag and release a smell that you'd swear came from the abyss. Guaranteed to end all curtain calls.

Just remember this: If you dare to hold it in you'll suffer the worst consequence . It may travel up your spine, a gas bubble as big as a dime. If it hits your brain, well that's where crappy ideas come from.