Tag Archives: free stuff

Words to Your Mother Giveaway!

It has been brought to my attention—by myself—that it’s been quite some time since I’ve given something away, other than all of the content you read on this blog, Facebook and Twitter.

Oh! And the food I put out for the birds and bastard woodland creatures in my yard. Now that I think about it, I’m freaking Mother Teresa! Give me ALL the Nobel Peace Prizes!

Anyway, with Mother’s Day just around the corner and WordPress telling me this is my 500th post, it seemed like a great time to do just that.

So without further ado, I present to you the “Words to Your Mother” book giveaway full of cool stuff you should want. (Because I do, but I’m giving the good stuff to you. You. Are. Welcome.)


I Just Want to Be Alone

One signed copy—by me—of this collection of humorous essays from 37 of the most Super Cool Lady Writers you’ll find on the Web who let me join in for some reason. Even my 65-year-old uncle loved it. It rocks.

Suburban Haiku

One autographed hardcover edition of Suburban Haiku: Poetic Dispatches From Behind the Picket Fence by Peyton Price. One mom’s journey toward suburban assimilation, told in hilarious cringe-worthy haiku. In addition, you will also receive one Suburban Haiku book club tote bag, perfect for hauling your swag all over the neighborhood (or hiding wine. Whatever. I don’t judge.) 

Something Smells Like Pee: And Other Classy Observations

Humorist/writer Blythe Jewell explores things, life, whatnot through the prism of humor, poetry and illustration. This collection of more than 60 titles includes brilliant pieces like “Hair in My Ass Crack,” “Shut the F*&! Up About Twilight,” “Leave the F*&%$! Cat Alone” and many more.

Mommy Had a Little Flask

One copy of the hilarious sequel to “This Little Piggy Went to the Liquor Store,” the bestselling “momoir” from A.K. Turner. From preschoolers blurting obscenities in public places to living with her in-laws in Mexico, “Mommy Had a Little Flask” delivers a delightfully raw and honest account of family life in Turner’s latest laugh-out-loud confessional.

Part of My World: Short Stories

In this collection of 21 short stories from the fabulous Kim Bongiorno, you will meet a troubled teenager, fallen princess, reunited lovers, creatures from afar and more. Funny, sexy, macabre, and heart wrenching, there’s something for everyone woven into these tales.

At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles: Mostly True Tales of An Impending Miracle

From the moment her positive test result is revealed in a fog of canine flatulence to the day she’s gently hoisted onto the delivery table by a front-end loader, writer/humorist Paige Kellerman guides you through her pregnancy with twins, careful to only hold one of your hands in case you need to cover your eyes with the other.

Nurse Mommy Laughs

Stacey Hatton from Nurse Mommy Laughs,will make you snort and giggle this Mother’s Day with the book, “I Just Want to Pee Alone,” a classic coffee mug to celebrate your Okay-ness and a Sir Perky (Curly Boner) Corkscrew—a trifecta of fun! 

Don’t Lick the Minivan

As a woman used to traveling and living the high life in Bangkok, Leanne Shirtliffe becomes pregnant with twins in Asia’s sin city and finds herself dodging deep-fried bug cuisine and nurses who cover newborn bassinets with plastic wrap. Then she and her husband move home to North American suburbia, where they face hilarious new challenges, such as the funeral she officiated for Stripper Barbie.

Abby Still Has Issues

And to put the cherry on top of this swagaholic sundae, I will also add a signed copy of “Abby Still Has Issues.” This means I have to sign TWO things. Sigh…what I do for you people.  

To qualify: You must be able to read, or know someone who is willing to read, to you, and live in the United States.

Required: There are three ways to enter, so you have three ways to win! First, leave a comment on this post—bad/good advice from a mom, the worst gift ever given/received, why I’m not Mother Teresa, etc.

Second, “like” the Facebook pages of any or all of the above contributors and then leave a comment telling me that you’ve done that (links are included in the descriptions above. One entry no matter how many pages you “like.” )

Finally, share this post via any social media channel you choose—or run around the neighborhood wearing a sandwich board, for all that I care—and leave a comment telling me that you’ve done that.

And if you do run around the neighborhood wearing a sandwich board, please send pictures.

The Winner will be chosen at random and notified via email after the giveaway closes at midnight on Monday, May 5.  And if you don’t win this giveaway, go to Amazon, buy these books, review them and send me a thank you in the form of cash donations.

Good luck!

Free For All

I’m pretty careful with my money.

While I’m not quite as bad as my grandma, who if you will remember kept large Ziploc bags in the freezer full of ketchup and mustard packets from various fast food establishments that always gave out “free condiments,” I do rinse out Ziplocs on occasion and budget my money appropriately.

Some people buy Prada, I buy produce.

And although I like getting a break on things when I can, people today seem obsessed with getting free stuff. I’ve seen people practically trample each other for a free unknown sample at the grocery store, a pen at an expo or a three-hour old hot dog shot out of a weenie gun at a hockey game.

They don’t know why they want it, but it’s free!

While I used to be one who got excited for free things regardless of whether or not I had any use for them, I really couldn’t care less at this point. If it’s a great deal, of course I’ll run over the elderly and small children to get it. But if it’s something I can simply buy for myself if I really want it, I figure I don’t need more junk.

Which brings me to this couch in my neighbor’s driveway.*


Now if you’re someone who picks up used furniture that has been sitting outside in February for three days in the driveway of a complete stranger, I apologize in advance, but what the hell is wrong with you?

Let’s pretend you’re not picking it up to donate to a good cause somewhere because that makes me sound like a witch, and instead work under the assumption that you want a couch for the rec room and thought this would work out.

After all, it’s winter and garage sales are scarce. Plus, it’s free!

Yes, it is free, and it’s probably harboring the bodily fluids of various people and animals, along with the Ebola virus and several species of undiscovered flesh eating bacteria.

None of that is confirmed of course, but it’s a rather safe assumption.

Kitchen tables and chair, entertainment centers—basically anything that isn’t covered in fabric that can absorb the aforementioned disgustingness is safe and I can kind of understand the appeal of it’s freeness.

But a rogue couch on the side of the road? Unless you’re planning on stripping it down to the foundation and reupholstering the dang thing, that’s like picking up a hitchhiker 20 miles out from a prison.

Just like eating a three hour old hot dog shot out of a weenie gun, that’s not the best idea, my friend.

I understand that I’m a bit biased seeing as how I love my couch more than a normal person should,  but I would rather sit on a cold cement floor every day for the rest of my life than expose any part of my flesh to a used couch picked up on the side of the road.

Call me a snob, but just don’t make me sit on that couch.

*Right as I was taking this picture, the neighbor pulled into his driveway. So if anyone asks, I sent you a picture of this couch to see if you were interested in taking it home. But if you really are interested in taking it home, remind me never to visit your house…or at least sit on your furniture. 

Like the blog? Buy the book.

A Free Pass

People always talk about how they miss their childhood and wish they were kids once again.


While my childhood was relatively normal and I have no complaints other than the fact that my mom let me crimp my hair and dress up like “Blossom” on a daily basis, I wouldn’t want to go back to the elementary school days at all.

I like being able to make my own decisions, my own food, my own money and go anywhere without asking permission. Minus the whole “work and bills” thing, I think being an adult is much preferable to being a child.

But there are a couple things that I do miss—the lack of responsibility, the innocence of first experiences, and most importantly, the free stuff. Because when you’re a kid, people will give you things to make you happy and reward you for doing the very things you should be doing anyway.

For example, being a no-cavity kid was one of my greatest claims when I was little. I was—and still am—slightly obsessed with oral hygiene, and while I can’t be  sure what my motivation was at the time, I’m 98.2 percent certain that it had something to do with getting my Polaroid picture on their “No Cavity Kid” wall, picking a cheap plastic toy out of the toy chest and stocking up on free stickers and floss.

As an adult this distinction is no longer special. I don’t get my picture on a wall, but instead get the bill and a reminder to floss.  This follows an hour of poking and prodding in my mouth with sharp metal objects while asking me questions and making conversation, all the while knowing full well I am in no position to answer with their hands shoved in my mouth.

Sidenote: I still try, just to piss them off. Appointments can take an extra 20 minutes if only because I make them stop so I can tell them exactly what I have been up to since the last time I was in. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know. 

The same goes for the doctor. Going in for a routine checkup used to result in fun things like pencils and stickers and Band-Aids shaped like Crayola crayons or covered in superheroes.

Now I’m forced to wait in the exam room for half an hour, which apparently turns me into a kleptomaniac.  My impatience/annoyance will cause me to start going through drawers to stock up on things I can fit into my purse—latex gloves, tongue depressors, a few of the stickers that are no longer offered to me.

Sidenote: If you ever want the doctor to hurry up and come into your exam room, start going through the drawers and taking latex gloves, tongue depressors and stickers. It’s a surefire way to guarantee they will walk in at that exact moment.

Holiday cards used to contain money that you didn’t need then but that you could most certainly use now, suckers and candy were handed out at banks and on the occasion of a classmate’s birthday and you could take as many samples at the store without security following you around like some type of criminal.

Score one for childhood.

But I still think being an adult is much preferable to being a child. After all, as a kid I could only write catty notes in a journal about people who ticked me off.

As an adult? I can blog.

Score one for maturity.

This post was in response to the RemembeRED prompt to use the image above for your inspiration. It’s probably not what they were looking for, but then again, they’re not giving out free stickers to those who participate, so I went my own way once again.

What do you miss about your childhood?