Tag Archives: Dolly Parton

Inspirational? More Like Perspirational


very-inspring

Thanks to Erin and her ass, I’ve been nominated for the Very Inspirational Blogger Award. As I sit here dripping with sweat, (haha, I know you all were thinking I’d be dripping something else) I cannot help but think that just maybe she meant to endow me with the Perspirational Blogger Award. I realize that 80 degrees sounds lovely, but here in Minnesota, 80 degrees is the equivilant of 120 degrees, and causes a permanent river of sweat to flow betwixt my considerable she-mountains. Anyhoo, I digress.

I’ve received enough awards in bloggerville to sufficiently have bored you all with facts concerning moi. So, instead of writing another seven things about me nobody except Art cares about, (haha) I shall list seven people who have inspired me to be… well, me.

1. Maya Angelou.

Maya is not on my list because she has just recently passed. I loved her long before she was spoken of in the past tense. As I read her six biographical books, I realized that perhaps someday, if I have as much courage and pizzazz as she, people might actually want to read my story as well. Though I will never be able to weave words together quite the way that she did.

2. Angelina Jolie.

Incidentally, Angelina’s movie Maleficent released today, after a long wait of almost FOUR years. I’m dragging my Rockstar to it tonight! (YAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!!) Anyhoo, Angelina is beautiful, (I don’t care what any of you say) and she always has been to me. You all know how she is, so I will not go to great lengths to explain my reasons. Suffice to say that she is someone I would love to be friends with. (And maybe more, if she would so have me.)

3. Dolly Parton

Because she’s 127, and is still awesome. If you disagree, you suck.

4. My Auntie.

Because she does so much for everyone else, yet still finds time for herself, and will always listen to anyone who needs her to.

5. My Rockstar.

He inspires me to live up to my potential, even if it is by semi-rudely telling me to quit being lazy. I know he adores me, despite the fact that he refuses to verbally say so, which inspires me to get him to the point where he will say it aloud. Too, he inspires me to wash the dishes, which can never be a bad thing.

6. King David.

If you don’t know who that is, you should read your Bible more often. He inspires me, (even though he is really quite dead) because he wasn’t perfect, yet God still loved him immensely. He is proof that even a fuck-up is worthy of God’s fondness.

7. All the boys in the world. (And some of the girls.)

Even though I have my Rockstar, I do not deny the fact that I adore being adored. These boys (and girls) inspire me to actually shower most days, and to put a little (and sometimes a lot) of effort into how I look, as time-consuming as it is. Too, the smarties of the world who are not moved by just a pretty face inspire me to keep learning, because you just never know when you might run into an attractively-intelligent person you wish to converse with. And many of them don’t give a hoot about the Kardashians.

As for the rest of the rules concerning winning an award, I don’t do that shit. Just click on someone who has commented on my blog, because obviously they are very wise.

XOXO

 

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Doctor’s Orders


So I have thought many times that being a surgeon or some other form of over-paid medical personel would be quite entertaining. However, the more I thought on the idea, the more I realized that I wouldn’t like to overshadow all my fellow medical students with my amazingly unending knowledge of human biology, and the thought of sticking my hands into a daily puddle of viscera and gore began to appeal to me a bit more than I like to shamelessly admit. And so, I give you the uneducated medical advice of Sparklebumps, the doctor who wasn’t.

To cure an inflated ego: When you begin feeling that you are so completely amazing and wonderful and no one can hold a candle to the brightness of you, simply think of the following individuals:

Mother Teresa: because she devoted her entire life to helping the unfortunate; what have YOU done to help your fellow man lately?

Dolly Parton: because no matter how big your boobs are, hers are bigger, and more perky than yours; yet she doesn’t go around saying, “Nana nana boo boob! I got better ones than you!” AND she has a book club to help young readers to love books.

Audrey Hepburn: because even though she won an Oscar from her first performance, and could have sailed through life just being beautiful and graceful and fabulous, she was a spokesperson for  UNICEF and spent her famousness in third-world countries.

To cure a broken heart: Get plenty of hugs from the people who still love you, and spend at least a night or two crying it all out. Focus on someone other than yourself, and before you know it, if True Love hasn’t found you, you will at least be able to look into the mirror and say, “i love you.”

To cure a crappy mood: For men- find someone like Sparklebumps who will offer you a booby squeeze just to make you smile. It almost always works, at least for a moment. For women- have a drink, punch a man, or eat some ice cream. It almost always works, at least for a moment.

To cure a hangover: Keep drinking.

To cure an engorged penis: Find an at least semi-hot girl to sit on it and bounce up and down a few times. If no pants-less individual is available, ask the next girl you see if you can stick it in her mouth. While it may not feel the best, a knee to the problem area will surely deflate any superfluous bloodflow happening.

To cure idiocy: Align a baseball bat to the offending individual’s skull and bash repeatedly until symptoms cease.

To cure anxiety: Purchase a flask and fill with whiskey. Sip repeatedly when feeling flustered. Suggested doses vary according to individual weight and tolerance.

To cure hatred: Smile. Hug strangers (but only after asking.) Don’t talk smack, and never judge.

To prevent pregnancy: Use a strap-on, pull out (this is not the most effective method), or send your girlfriend over to my house.

To prevent food-bourne illnesses such as E.Coli, Salmonella, etc.: Eat candy, chips, french fries, and other assorted prepackaged, easy-to-prepare foods.

To prevent excessive moneys from falling out of your pockets: Stick offending dollars in an envelope, buy a stamp, and mail to Sparklebumps c/o Pizza Hut MN.

Well I suppose that’s a pretty good start for today. I guarantee that if you follow my advice, you will be feeling stellar in no time at all. You’re feeling better already, aren’t you? XOXO

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Things I Can Imagine About Myself If I Don’t Look In A Mirror


I have a problem with mirrors. As in, I look great if I don’t look into one. My self -confidence is at such a level that I can sashay around feeling glamorous and stunning; until I look in the mirror ;then  my stunningness melts into a puddle around my 5″ heels. So I’ve decided, instead of telling you what I know about myself, to quote Anne of Green Gables- “If you let me tell you what I imagine about myself  you’d find it a lot more interesting. “

1. It’s easy to imagine I have the 42″ in-seam of Stacey Keibler, until I look in a mirror and realize my Short Length jeans are dragging on the ground.

2. I like to imagine I have the pale alabaster skin of Nicole Kidman, or Queen Elizabeth, until I look in the mirror and see that my pale skin is blotchy and uneven.

3. As I cannot look into my own eyes, it is easy to imagine the color of my eyes is cerulean blue (that was always my favorite color crayon), that is, until I look in a mirror and see that my eyes are, in fact, just a poopy brown color.

4. It’s nice to imagine that my Sweater Meat actually looks good under a sweater, until I look into a mirror and realize that I just look fat in sweaters.

5. To the touch, my thighs and ass compare to steel; that in no way helps me when I attempt to fit them into a pair of stylish low-rise jeans. (I come out looking like I have two asses)

6. I like to pretend that I have the curly flowing locks of a Bavarian princess (I don’t actually know if Bavaria has princesses, but it sounded good) until I look in the mirror and remember I need 4 different kinds of hair product to make the frizz on my head acceptable for public display.

7. It’s easy to imagine that I have a full desirable face and figure (like Scarlett Johanssen), until I look in a mirror and see that those little statues of Buddha and I have disturbingly similiar features.

8. I imagine my neck is one to be spoken of reverently in poetry, perhaps being decribes as long and slender, and then I look in the mirror and realize I should change my name to Sparklebumps NoNeck.

9. My boss Frenchie once described me as “having an hourglass figure”. I was excited until I looked in the mirror and realized he must have been looking THROUGH an hourglass  when he described my figure. (Because honestly, there is only a two inch difference between my waist and hips)

10. I like to imagine I have an attractive beauty mark that girls will one day imitate with piercings, like Cindy Crawford or Marilyn, but then I look in the mirror and see I display a multitude of “beauty marks” that will in no way be duplicated appealingly.

11. It’s easy to imagine I have a Dolly Parton rack, until I remember I don’t have as much money as she does to maintain it.

Oh well, at least my feet look cute in shoes…

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Costumed


So. It’s about that time when I need to start thinking about what I’m going to be for Halloween. I realize it’s only February, and being the Libra that I am, I will certainly change my mind a thousand times before my favorite holiday, but it’s never too soon to start planning a fabulous costume…. Also, my costume choices come in categories, as you will see- because there are just SO many different things one can dress up as. Once I have a place big enough, I will no doubt throw a costume party monthly, but until then, I shall just have to continue planning future awesome costumes…

Costumes that give a nod to the cartoons of my youth:

Shera: I will tell you something now- Shera is frickin’ awesome, People! You have no idea how many hours I spent with my male cousins pretending to be Shera saving their equally-pretending He-Man asses. In all honesty, I preferred being He-Man back then, but since he lacks a shirt, I can’t exactly dress up like him for Halloween, now can I?

Smurfette: The only female in a sea of men…. it’s surprising how alike Smurfette and I are. Sadly, I have seen many renditions of a Smurfette costume, and no one seems to be able to procure the right shade of blue for their skin.

Miss Piggy: I actually thought of this one because I considered being Dolly Parton this past year, (that didn’t work out very well, because I was broke) and really, the only difference between the two is a pig schnoz. Also, I already have long purple gloves from my Jessica Rabbit costume. (How very green of me to re-use my costume accessories.)

Costumes I’d consider if I actually lost 40 lbs:

The Little Mermaid: The most beautiful of ALL the Disney princesses, (and the only one cool enough to have a tail) I would find it highly entertaining to scuttle around in a sequined tail and some seashells for the night. I also already have a wig that would work. Sadly, I’d have to work on my abs before I dressed as Ariel, otherwise I would more resemble her enemy Ursula.

Princess Leia in the Gold Bikini: I had to specify which Princess Leia there, because I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a Cinna-Bun hairdo. I would find it fascinating to dress up as 30-40 yr old men’s fantasies everywhere….

Catwoman: I would only consider this because the bull whip and the leather outfit would come in very handy the rest of the year.

Mystique from X-men: I think I subconsiously want to dye my skin blue… Anyhoo, you all know Mystique is the coolest X-man, her being basically naked and scaly and all. I’m not sure I could find anyone willing to paint me blue though… anybody?

Celebrities worth dressing up as:

Dolly Parton (The 80’s version): This doesn’t really need an explanation. I have the assets and I like to be sparkly and wear copious amounts of makeup.

Cyndi Lauper: I’ll take any chance I can to dress up in a newspaper skirt and shave half of my head.

Lady GaGa: Because there are so many costumes to choose from. And it’s good to keep up with the current times, you know.

Michael Jackson (with the sparkle glove): Because he’s awesome (even though he’s dead) and a test on Facebook once told me I looked exactly like him. It would also be a good excuse to go around grabbing my crotch and shrieking, “Hee-Hoo!!!!”

I guess that’s about all I can think of for now, but if anyone has any awesome suggestions….

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There’s No One Quite Like Dolly


It may not surprise my regular readers to find out that I find Dolly Parton to be utterly and absolutely amazing. No, this is not simply a silly celebrity idolization- I have read the woman’s bio and her view on life is so similiar to mine that it’s almost scary. I will admit, I loved her long before I ever read about her; after all, who doesn’t love a talented woman who accessorizes her ginormous boobage in rhinestones and wears too much makeup?

Dolly states that her three passions in life are God, music, and sex. Anyone who puts God and sex in the same sentence and does not apologize for it is worthy of applause in my book. Incidentally, God, sex, and books are my passions….not necessarily in that order.

I will admit that Dolly’s singing voice is not enviable. However, her song-writing abilities make up for that, and her crazy wanna-be-a-star ambition must needs be admired.

One of the estimable characteristics Dolly possesses is that she will never say anything bad about anyone. (This is something I think that I will never have) And even though she’s almost 70, she is still beautiful to me.

Now that my Dolly Lovefest is done, I shall leave you with a few of my favorite quotes from her:

“You’d be surprised how much money it takes to look this cheap.”

“My weaknesses have always been food and men, not necessarily in that order.” (Umm, I understand, Dolly. I do.)

“I modelled my look on the town tramp.”

P.S. I think I shall adopt Dolly’s thinking on excessive boobage- “If God didn’t want people looking, he wouldn’t have given them to me.” 🙂

 

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Class or Trash?


Happy Humpday, my Lovelys! I am pleased to let you all know that through my drunken haze last night I came up with a subject to broach today that I actually still remember this morning. Alas, the whiskey is gone.

After I kicked my Rockstar’s ass in darts last night (twice- YAY ME!) while downing the last of the Windsor, we decided to eat. Incidentally, it was after 8:00, which is very bad for a diet. I made him cook for himself and I made gourmet baked potatoes in the microwave. (Yay modern technology.) While we were eating, we turned on the tube, and there happened to be a documentary of Jackie O. on. Since I was sloshed, I shall spare you the details of this said documentary, as I wasn’t really paying too much attention. But I did think how elegant she seemed, and how soft-spoken she was, and how it was very courageous of her to hold in her Honey’s brains when he got shot in the head.

This got me thinking about class and what defines it. I was raised in a strictly Baptist home, and sent to a private school where the girls weren’t allowed to wear anything brazen or tawdry. I was taught that women are supposed to be submissive to their husbands and you don’t talk about sex! or else you will go to hell.  Oddly enough, there was lots of sex going on in that church, since nearly every family had at least 4 kids. So according to Baptists, doing what your man tells you to and not bringing attention to yourself defines class. But it’s ok to judge people that aren’t like you….

According to Emily Post, you must always be polite, place you napkin in your lap, and never boo the opposing team.

I suppose some people consider Jackie to be classy because she didn’t publicly make a big fuss about Marilyn Monroe boinking her husband. I personally would pulled a Lorena Bobbit or asked if I could join in, but that’s just me.

By her own admission, my personal hero Dolly Parton is completely trashy. The big hair, heavy makeup, and rhinestone outfits encasing her biggest assets are completely contrary to the strict way in which I was raised. Yet she will never say anything bad about anyone, (Porter Wagoner) and she has a deep and meaningful relationship with God. I believe that is classy.

I have thought about it, and the people I most respect are those who say what they think. The way to do this in a classy way is to say it without hurting someone’s feelings. I think not judging people is classy, even if they are not like you and you can’t understand why they do the things they do. I believe it is classy to be who you are and not apologize for it (even if you dye your hair orange and show cleavage), and I think it is classy to always give someone a smile, even if you are not feeling particularly happy. XOXO

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