Little Brown Jug

I've decided to be a bootlegger. I've chosen bootlegging because I need money and selling drugs is just way too scary. Why do something icky when according to The Dukes of Hazzard, bootlegging is a joyful pursuit that leads to meeting lots of interesting people and escaping from the law in new and exciting ways each week...preferably involving at least one impossible ramp jump with your souped up 1969 Dodge Charger that presumably came with your do-it-yourself still kit. Sign me up!

Jason keeps blowing all his income on feeding and housing our enormous brood. Not that I would have the kids go hungry just so I could get a pair of Jimmy Choos, but seriously, how cute are these sandals?















They're all I need to totally rock the Betsey Johnson pencil skirt I found for $25 at Parisian (how much is it going to suck when that turns into a Belk, by the way?). Also, lest you think one of my children went hungry, that $25 was birthday money and Betsey was worth every DIME!!! O.k. the one drawback is that it's an 8 and is a bit snug in the waist if the truth be told. However, I'm pretty sure that I've just been retaining a little water for the past few days (months) and it'll be loose in no time because I'm really, truly a size 6. At least I generally refuse to buy anything that says differently. But I'm also really shallow and love a designer label, so I made an exception for Betsey. In fact, I think I'm going to refer to my super cute new pencil skirt as Betsey from now on. Men name cars and body parts. I'm going to start naming my clothes -- at least the ones that make me feel special. Maybe it will spark some kind of jealous frenzy in my closet and all my clothes will start jockeying to see who can make me look best in hopes of gleaning their very own names.

Jeez, I'm starting to sound weird. Usually I try and keep these kinds of thoughts to myself. Maybe I should make a new rule that I'm not allowed to blog after 10 p.m. because I forget to edit out all the crazy bits when I'm tired. I suppose I'll stop virtually shopping as the pain of non-acquisition has become too much for me to bear. Let me know if you decide to run out and buy a pair of rock star shoes as I would like to be jealous of you specifically. In the meantime, I'll be in my garage working on perfecting a recipe for corn whiskey that will sell well in the burbs of Vestavia/Mountain Brook. Wish me luck!