Every once in a blue, blue moon I discover a product that I think is good enough and smart enough and by golly, people like me worthy of mention on my blog, which is, of course, the equivalent of you sitting in my kitchen exchanging small talk with me and eating deep-dish pizza. Which reminds me, when are you coming over?

I have a nice deck, but I seldom sit out there because of the bees and mosquitoes. I have to save up my trash and haul it to the dump because we have no pickup out here in the north forty of all boondocks, and if I set so much as a dainty bathroom bag of seemingly unappealing human dregs outside, the critters pay us a call and we get to spend an hour bent double picking up used kleenexes and all kinds of creepy, kooky, mysterious, spooky, and altogether ooky sticky, shredded, often embarrassing remnants of our lives that were best left unseen and are even grosser after being licked by a possum.

But my problem has actually been solved now. I have discovered Repell-em products. Not only are they the best trash bags EVER, they have a ton of other uses as well.

Set out your trash two days early; the dogs won’t touch it. Put pieces of a Repell-em trash bag under your sofa cushions; your cats won’t shred your furniture any more. Cut a Repell-em trash bag into strips and put them around your ankles and wrists. You can now sit out on the lake all day fishing and come home with not a single mosquito or fly bite.

Hang a Repell-em bag in the doorway of your tent. You can sleep in peace and the mosquitoes, flies, and other insects won’t come near you.

If you have tiny children and you worry about them putting “poison” in their mouths, you can rest easy, because Repell-em products are harmless. You can pack food in them. If you catch your child chewing on a Repell-em bag, you can marvel at his/her ability to relish the taste, but you don’t have to call 911 or the Poison People; Repell-em bags won’t hurt your child. Repell-em bags are also eco-friendly; they’re REALLY eco-friendly, not just claiming to be but really not, like most products that make that claim. Repell-em products really are eco-friendly. The magic is in the smell, which insects and animals loathe. People just think it’s a nice smell.

But here’s the coolest part: Repell-em is having a CONTEST! It starts Thursday and they’re giving away their products like crazy.

Listen, I know it’s odd, raving about trash bags. But I hate mosquitoes and I hate flies and I hate having my furniture clawed by my cats and I hate not being able to sit outside because of the bugs and I’m allergic to bees and I hate having to constantly pick up my trash from all over the yard because dogs or other animals tore it to shreds and scattered it.

With Repell-em bags, I’ll never have to do that again. Check them out. Seriously, these products are fantastic. I can just hang a Repell-em bag from my deck and the insects are GONE. No stinky sprays or little cups of poison. Nothing that could harm a child. Just instant bug-be-gone. INSTANT. No stray dogs or other potentially dangerous critters, either. GONE.

Go check out Repell-em. Then enter the contest. I’m going to. By golly, I’d LOVE to win me a big bundle of this stuff.

I’m going to order one of their picnic tablecloths next. NO ANTS! I can’t wait.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I went to WalMart tonight, and I’m honestly sorry to be this kind of person, but it really makes me mad and yes, I really do think drastic measures are necessary.

When a grinning, ingratiating-type customer is one of many in line at the 20-items-or-less register, and when he starts piling his merchandise on the tiny little counter-space that was made for 20 items or less, and he says to the sweet little overworked cashier, “I’ve got about eight over the twenty; that’s all right, ain’t it, hyuck hyuck hyuck?” the answer should rightly be, “No, it’s not. Please put your stuff back in your cart and move it to the proper line. This line is for people with only a few items, and it’s not right to make them wait for you and your cartload.” And then I think everybody in the line should mutter ‘Jackass’ under his/her breath but loud enough for the jackass to hear.

The person behind him with a gallon of milk, the person behind her with a bag of apples, the person behind him with four two-liter bottles of Coke, the person behind her with a case of Pampers, two giant cans of Similac, an infant and a toddler, and the person behind her with a sack of potatoes and a pair of Levi’s, will be forever grateful.

It’s not like the guy has any finer feelings or anything, you know. He’s a JACKASS. And after all that, when he asks the little cashier to cash his payroll check even though he left his ID in the truck, and to run back and grab a pack of Winston’s for him, wouldja honey, because he done forgot, hyuck hyuck hyuck, I think he should be castrated there in the store by the 24-hour always-on-duty official WalMart BallBuster because we’ve already got far too many of them kinda folks.

You think I’m kidding, don’t you. Everybody who wishes that all stores, schools, institutions, offices, governments, and businesses of every kind had a 24-hour always-on-duty official BallBuster for people who think the rules are for other people, raise your hand and say, “JACKASS!”

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly

I adored Freddie Mercury.

I know there are a lot of popular bands for which fame is fleeting because there is no real talent to sustain it. It’s always been so, and always will be. Sometimes a band gets its fifteen minutes based on novelty alone, but novelty alone ain’t gonna cut it unless there is some genuine talent to back it up. Think of Weird Al. He’s novelty, but he’s also a master of parody and a fantastic mimic and a ham who can really do it.

There are many fantastic musicians in bands that give them no outlet for the legitimacy of their talents. This is, of course, a choice each musician makes.

Other bands are made up of individual masters in their chosen field, and they showcase this magnificence with music that will always be memorable. Not everyone will agree on which is which, naturally; everyone has his/her own individual tastes in music.

I love music; it sustains me and gives me outlets for emotions and feelings that might otherwise land me in jail, and it soothes me and strengthens me and I consider it as much of a ‘being’ as any actual person I know. I am very particular about my music, although my children wouldn’t think so, and I only play and replay the music I especially love. I do not care for most country and some jazz, although the adjectives give those genres a little leeway.

What really reduces me to a quivering mass of incoherent protoplasm is a lovely voice. And when the incomparable voice is coupled with beautiful lyrics and heart-shattering melody and irony and fate and a knowledge of what is going to happen and what has already happened, it leaves me in tears, paralyzed with emotion, and the only outlet is to listen to it again.

I’m not a fan of Highlander, but the song from Highlander hits me right where I live.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly