If You Have To Say It Out Loud, It’s Probably Not True.

When my girls were in Middle school I carpooled with a Mom who lived around the corner; her kids (twins) were one or two grades above Linds and one year below Lolo. As much as I loved their mom, the twins were a bit obnoxious. They loved to brag about the size of their home, how much it could sell for, their new clothes, new phones etc…I just can’t with braggers, even if they’ve barely hit puberty, but being the mature adult, I bit my tongue a lot.

I recall one day when picking them up from school, the daughter was scrolling her texts said to me: “You probably don’t know this, but I’m really popular.”

The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself:

Well, if you have to say it out Loud, it’s probably not true.

Obviously, I’d had enough with her sassy ass. I could hear Lindsay in the backseat giggling at my remark, and since then, that’s been a One Liner with Linds and I.

Recently, the Coach and I attended an event/dinner/awards at our local university. In attendance, and sitting at our table was a former athlete who is only two years older than our Lolo. Anyhoo, this young lady is beautiful, smart, very sweet, appeared very accomplished and personable.

But as much as I admired her for those things, and she did seem interested in the other people around her, I also knew in the first 21 minutes of introduction that she (and her husband, who is my age) have several Chiropractic practices, a Ferrari, a large house, plenty of travel opportunities that require much luggage and her Chanel purse needs its own chair.

Woah Sister, save some stuff for later!

The Coach and I discussed it on the way home and had a good snicker. Not the candy bar, a giggle, although I could use a snicker bar because I’m not myself when I’m hungry.

Anyhoo. It made me wonder, if I had all those ‘things’ at 32, would I feel the need to boast about them? No. I would not. And today, at the ripe old age of what I am, I’m kind of the opposite. I prefer to play down the ‘stuff’ and focus on what really matters: My Stellar Personality.

Not to brag, but I’m damn popular. In this house. Most of the time. Really, mostly at dinner time, but you know.

Anyone run into a not.so.humble bragger lately? Were you as unimpressed as I?


Louis, Louis, Part Two. A Ring Grabber & Delayed Celebrations.

I gave you my first impression after arriving to the hotel in Louisville and our interesting conversation with the receptionist; I still giggle when I think about her. She was sweet, but obviously didn’t have a lot of life/social skills.

While we were checking in, I was reading a placard on the wall about the Famous dish that this hotel is known for: the creation of the Hot Brown.

I can’t tell you where my brain went when I first read Hot Brown…but that’s only because inside I’m still 13 years old.

Ten minutes after unpacking we headed downstairs to the restaurant because this girl, as usual was hungry and now I needed a Hot Brown.

We walked up to the hostess stand and upon my quick gaze across the restaurant, I’d noticed the place was pretty busy which is a good sign even though, the place looked like our room: Tired.

The hostess sat us down and she stood in front of our table (and me) for a moment when a waitress came around the corner, saw the Coach and said: Hey Gentlemen, I’ll be right with you.

We smirked, I said in my deepest voice: THANK YOU, as she passed the hostess, then caught a glimpse of me who is indeed not a man. Hell, I’m not even a manly girl, but stuff like this does not offend me.

A few minutes later the waitress who mistook me for a man approached our table with a bazillion apologies OVER AND OVER; not necessary, but could you please take my food order before I nibble on your hand?

Speaking of hands…

All of a sudden, she looked at my left hand, GASPED and then GRABBED my ring while my hand that was still attached, followed!

I was caught off guard by her reaction, but decided that if I shanked her for this infraction, it could possibly delay my lunch.

She told me how gorgeous my ring was, I thanked her and explained that it was a gift ‘from this guy for our 25th anniversary,’ as I pointed at Coach.

Finally, after she thought I was a man, apologized profusely, grabbed my Rock and took our order, (we both ordered a petite Hot Brown), she was gone.

THREE MINUTES LATER another waitress dropped two petite Hot Browns on our table.

We were surprised, as the other tables around us, who had been there before we sat down still didn’t have food.

We let the waitress know immediately these must not be ours and she quickly took them to the next table. Those people said: nope, not ours. She continued to the next table: those people also said NOPE, not ours.

Finally our Ring grabbing waitress came by and said that the Now Traveling Petite Hot Brown’s were, in fact, ours.

Our Hot Brown’s were delicious; I gave my perfectly crisped and cholesterol filled bacon to the Coach.

We started eating and the Coach noticed one of the tables behind me started complaining to the waitress that they were waiting forever for their food.

ME: Just keep eating. I’m not giving up my plate again

We enjoyed our lunch and I felt a nap coming on. I was ready to get to our Deluxe Celebrity Suite, so we asked our weirdly inappropriate waitress for our check. She said: PLEASE, JUST HOLD ON, I HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU.

Can you even guess what she had for us?

I think I should hold off sharing and let you guys guess.





I can’t wait any longer!

She proudly brought us a flaming anniversary cake. Mind you, our 25th anniversary was 6 years, 4 months, 26 days ago.

That’s hot.

We just gave each other ‘a look’, thanked the waitress and nibbled on the cake that we didn’t really want. We’re not rude.

Some other highlights from our weekend: My girlfriend Aimee’s shirt said: I’m 50 Bitches! Which made me laugh every time I looked at her. We hung out at an inside/outside bar for a few hours on Saturday afternoon. It was fun to people watch; I had my first Moscow Mule and I wasn’t even in Moscow!

We had an amazing dinner at Repeal Steakhouse. We’d ordered way too much food. I had the waiter wrap it up for us and on our Uber ride back to the hotel we had the driver stop and Coach delivered the food to a very appreciative homeless gentleman.

I was shocked at the amount of homeless people in Louisville. It’s not the norm in our town.

We noticed there were NO police officers seen over our weekend. I’m not a fan of that since there were shady characters on every corner and I’m not referring to our friends. Did Kentucky defund the Popo?

Anyone celebrate a fake holiday to avoid an awkward conversation? Have you had a Moscow Mule while in Moscow or anywhere?


Louis-Louis, You’re How Old? Sharing Rooms With Weird Celebrities.

Last weekend the Coach and I took a little trip to Louisville, Kentucky to celebrate a friends 50th birthday. Why Louisville you ask? Well, these particular friends are connoisseurs of bourbon and apparently Kentucky is a Bourbon Mecca.

*Picture me wandering around looking for a wine bar in the land of whiskey.*

The Coach and I flew direct from GA and we were there in no time. I’d never been to Kentucky before and honestly, I had to look it up on a map for reference.

Is Kentucky considered The South? The North? Are Kentuckians considered Yankees? Midwesterners?


This might be the one time Coach booked a hotel room without checking it out first.

Did you know he is our/my travel agent? I don’t generally book rooms. Or flights. Or cars. Or criminals.

Me all the time: Where are we going? What time do I need to be ready? Do I need to pack my Hokas?

Our friends chose the hotel, so the Coach booked a room there. Let me add, we (he) waited until almost the last minute to book and all that was left was a very expensive suite.

A minute before we land. Me: Are we getting an Uber?

Coach: No, I rented a car.

See. I have no idea wha’t going on.

Hey, can someone explain to me what a Kept Woman is?

Anyhoo. We arrive at the hotel about 20 minutes after landing because my travel agent doesn’t eff around.

I had some clues, some red flags, as as you say as soon as we hit the valet stand that this ain’t no Four Seasons. This MIGHT be a Two Seasons on a good day.

This is a Historic Hotel, but that doesn’t mean everything should feel old and unkept. Right?

The Coach and I give our bags to the valet guy and then find the happy-to-help-us, very young, Receptionist. We were exchanging pleasantries as she checked us in.

Receptionist: So, what are you in town for?

We explain that we’re here to celebrate a friends 50th birthday.

Y’all. I’m not exagerattting. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes were bugging out. She was astonished as she said: F I F T Y?

It’s like she didn’t know people lived to be FIFTY.

And then, like a novice in the world as she’d never been told the things you don’t ask people: she asked us how old we were.


And us, being astonished and caught off guard, wondering when she would ask our religious views, political party affiliation and our annual income, well, we told her our ages.

She replied with:

You don’t look over 50!


And Oh, you’re in the suite? That SUITE!

Someone famous stayed in that SUITE!

I have a feeling she wasn’t supposed to gossip, but It took me all of four seconds to get her to spill the beans.

Have you ever heard of: Mel lost.his.marbles Gibson?

Yeah, that celebrity.

The Coach and I, still kind of astonished at what just transpired, head up to our CELEBRITY SUITE and once inside I declared that Mel must have stayed here around the time he filmed Lethal Weapon and this place hasn’t been updated since then.

I’m not a snob. (ok, just a tad) But if this hotel had an emotion, it would be Tired af.

But the funny thing is, we learned later that night that Mel out.of.touch.with.reality Gibson was actually there the weekend prior to us and not thirty seven years ago.

Times must be hard for him if he’s sinking to our level.


The room was ridiculously overpriced and certainly not a place you’d keep your eyes peeled for celebrities. I mean, unless you’re looking an accomplished softball famous Coach and A not-really well known Blogger.

He’s not a regular Coach, he’s a Luxury Coach.

The next morning while I was in the shower, I had a moment where I thought: Hell, Mel showered in here, and now here I am. I mean, it’s almost like we showered together. Right? Dang, I’ve already slept with Gary Busey, might as well add Mel to my Busy Bee Harlot List.

Within twenty minutes of settling into our old, outdated Celebrity Suite, we had another funny encounter in the restaurant, but you’ll have to wait till next week.

I know. How will you get through the weekend?

Anyone else check into a hotel that immediately gave you a bad/weird impression? Are you the one in charge of travel plans? How about people asking personal questions?


Where The Weekend Went: Early Out/Early In, Comedy Is Still Funny And Stomp It!

It was so glorious to NOT have anything planned for the weekend which has not been the case for the last 4 months or so.

On Friday I had a Dermaplaning facial; I’m totally addicted to The Razor and I swear by it. This procedure keeps your skin youthful. Most people are surprised that I’m about to have my 85th birthday and I can thank my aesthetician for that. Anyhoo, we generally have a Friday Night Date that consists of going to dinner, and I insist that he pays because I’m old fashioned. But since I had my facial that afternoon, I didn’t want to wash all the good serums off my skin and apply makeup. You should have heard me explaining this to my husband; he looked like I do when he explains just about anything that has to do with math. So, we ordered in dinner because date night be damned; why miss an opportunity to be served.


I purchased some tix for a comedy club that is literally minutes from our house and has probably been there for 15 years. Have we ever been? Have I signed myself up for Open Mic night? Nope. Even though I know I missed my calling as a stand up comedian.

*I vow that in my next life I’m going to be a comedian and an interior designer; hell I could probably do them both at the same time*

The Coach mentioned as we were leaving the house: “I’ve not been to a comedy show in at least a decade” (we used to go all the time as youngsters) I replied: “Me too, I hope comedy is still funny.”

We decided to have a bite to eat first at our fave little Sushi/Thai restaurant which is on the way. Y’all we left our house at 5:35, had dinner and then a comedy show and we were back home at 8pm. How’s that for living large?

The good news: Comedy IS still funny. We laughed our azzes off and I’ve got some new material to work on.


On Sunday we went to my BIL’s for a last minute/impromptu birthday party for my Great Niece who turns 5 next week, she is indeed great.

We got her some elbow/knee pads to go with a bike that she’s getting but I also (impulse buy) picked up a Stomp Rocket for her because it.looked.like.fun and guess what? FUN IT IS!

I know what I’m asking for when my birthday comes around. Honestly though, she LOVED the knee pads so much. Who knew that would be the hit from her gift pile?

Anyone ever have a dermaplaning facial? How about a Stomp Rocket?

Have you ever had a facial WHILE Stomping a Stomp Rocket? 😜