22 September 2008

Giving the Bucky His Due

Yes, my fellow bloggers in arms. I'm back.

Fine. Don't everybody jump up and down at once. I get it. Anyhow, life has normalized and I'm ready and rarin' to go!

You may (or may not) remember my one-year blogiversary. And you may (most likely not) remember that in honor of said blogiversary, I held a contest and whoever could answer all ten contest questions correctly and make it through the randomizer would win my paltry prizes. And if you'll remember (yeah, right) Bucky was the poor sap lucky winner. The lucky, long-suffering, sitting-up-there-in-hillbilly-central-waiting-for-his-prize-package-to- materialize (NOT!), contest winner. Well, honey, this is your lucky week because the package is on its way! At least, I think it's on its way. I gave the box and a yuppie food stamp (a.k.a. $20) to J-man and sent him off with his morning cuppa and the mini-van to ship the damned thing via UPS while I took a bubble bath. But when he finally got home six hours later, he smelled of bourbon and cheap perfume. You may or may not get it. Frackin' kids.

So, I decided to send my big-time prize winner a t-shirt. With my ugly mug on it. And I wore said t-shirt for 24 hours. That's right, sweetie. I ate in it, fed kids in it, changed diapers in it, dusted, mopped, blogged, and slept in it. And I didn't wash it. I also posed for a few pictures. Observe:

Made coffee in it. If you put your nose reeeeaaaaally close to my picture on the t-shirt, in the area of my knee socks, you'll smell vanilla-hazelnut blend. You're welcome.


After feeding J-man his breakfast, there might have been a yogurt splotch. Or two. Not sure. Definitely some cat hairs, though.


No make-up. SCARY!


J-man was kind enough to smear Chick-fil-A condiments on your left sleeve. Boil that up for some soup later. YUM!

And, of course, I couldn't do this post without taking a final picture in your shirt. I thought I would re-create my iconic (snort!), widely-recognizable avatar. Just for you.


Feel free to drool. Or run screaming from your computer. I'll understand. Hope you enjoy your un-laundered t-shirt of me!

Oh, and? One more thing. I threw in a couple of cheesy Georgia souvenirs and this:


What's a present from Georgia without your very own "Deeeelux Edishon" DVD copy of Deliverance.

Squeal like a pig, Bucky. Squeal away.

10 comments:

HEATHER said...

Glad you are back!

RiverPoet said...

Welcome back, Heather!

Congratulations on winning the gooey t-shirt, Bucky!

Peace - D

Molly's Mom said...

Glad you're back and...refreshed...I think. That shirt certainly isn't :)

Bucky said...

Lets just consider the shirt slightly broken in. I'm sure it will get quite a bit more food, vomit, and fecal matter on it. Some of it may even come from the kids.

I am ashamed to say that I have never watched deliverance. NEVER. I will make time to watch it now, and better familiarize myself with all of the pig squealing innuendo's that us hillbilly's have endured over the years.

Squeeeeeeeeeel!

Avitable said...

Ooh, the iconic pose! That's a great picture.

Donna said...

I love it. Now I want one. No, really, I do, honest.

Anonymous said...

Welcome back!

It's scary how well you were able to recreate that photo.

Expat No. 3699 said...

Missed you and glad you're back.

Lucky Bucky!

Anonymous said...

Love it girl! Esp the last photo. That is your trademark.

Gypsy said...

That's like winning the lottery! In the sense that now he's cursed, I'm sure. ;)