Ruby Ridge


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Don’t look at me, darlings, I’m still disfigured and hideous! A few days ago I was stung by a wasp and I blew up like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. It was not pretty! It hurt like hell for a while but there wasn’t anything particularly alarming about it, so I just soldiered on (I’ve had worse cases of bloating and irritability, let me tell you!)

But by the next day my entire left arm had swollen to Elephant Man-sized proportions. I couldn’t move my elbow and I kid you not, my forearm was 15 inches around.  I have never looked so BEEFY!  If it wasn’t for the throbbing pain, I would have thrown on a tank top and snapped a picture of my left side and posted it on a bear-dating website. Seriously, if those girls can still use their 1986 graduation picture and call themselves “straight acting” then I can sure as hell pretend to have forearms with a clear conscience. Ahem, but I digress.

Before the wasp incident I was actually feeling pretty good about myself kittens, and here’s why. After being relentlessly harangued by friends and family for what seemed like forever, I finally ditched my antique flip phone and upgraded to a smart phone with an unlimited data-and-text plan. So know this, petals: I will no longer be mocked!

With my past billing statements in-hand, I marched confidently into the Verizon store and listed my demands to this adorable Hispanic guy who had the most amazing eyelashes I have ever seen on a man (I mean real eyelashes, pumpkins, not like the fake Mylar ones we wear.) I kept starring at his eyes, and it was everything I could do to pay attention to his sales pitch. I told him I just needed a smart phone that: A) I could drop from a great height because I am really clumsy. B) Has a large keyboard because I have absolutely no manual dexterity and C) Has a huge bright, easy-to-read screen because simply put, cherubs, I’m old.

I am now the proud owner of a black rubber encased Motorola something something something. It has a technical name but I can’t remember it. Once I got over my initial fear of accidentally racking up minutes and butt dialing, I actually quite like my phone. I downloaded the cutest ukulele ring tone which I thought at the time sounded so happy and cheerful. Although, after I heard it go off in my gym locker, I realized “It’s Raining Men” doesn’t sound as gay as my ringtone. I don’t care, I’m not going to change it. Screw the world, I’m owning it!

I would be seriously remiss If I didn’t give a shout out to my dear friend Felicia (Pork Chop to her “friends.”) No not THAT Felicia, this one is white and naturally skinny. We were eating at Gourmandies late one night and while we were sitting there, Felicia optimized my phone and customized all sorts of apps before my very eyes. The girl is technologically gifted like you know  those special people. What’s the name for them, oh yes that’s it, I remember, “idiot savants.” I keep thinking if Felicia could only get over her chronic shyness, agoraphobia, lack of perceptible rhythm, and appalling fashion sense, she could really be a great catch for someone. Trust me muffins, the girl needs to get out more. If you’re interested,text me, and I’ll send you her digits! Ciao, babies!

You can see Ruby Ridge and the Matrons of Mayhem in all of their polyester glory at Third Friday Bingo (every third Friday of the month at 7 p.m.) at First Baptist Church (777 S. 1300 East).

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