I AM NOT WHITE TRASH!!!

...and our tres well-bred blogger apologizes in advance for using the word "prickhole" in the first paragraph of today's posting...

Pandora Music Selection of the Day: White Trash Beautiful Radio!

Yeah, I saw you today, driving your $75,000 SUVs at 100 km/hr as I struggled to push my ten-year old stroller down the sidewalk on snow encrusted pavement. I saw you smugly whiz by as I battled with the -20 C temperatures and -30 C wind chills and a screaming child with icicles hanging out her nose. You think you're so superior? Huh? Huh? Well let me tell you, Mr. Prickhole Moneybags: I am NOT white trash!!

It is true that we looked a little worse for wear today as we struggled along on our daily sojourn to the thrift shop. Did I say thrift shop? I meant, um, Frankie's House of Diamonds. And yes, I know I was wearing a pair of woolen socks on my hands instead of gloves. I couldn't find them, OK, my mittens have just vanished. NOT because this place has exploded into a rotting, disorganized sty. NEVER! It's... it's just these servants these days! Anything not nailed down, they steal! And the three inches of roots cropping out of the top of my head? Hey, baby, undyed roots are the new rock and roll, don't you know that? Get with the trends, buddy. Even Madonna's been photographed with them.

Huh? What was that? Why was I out on the street in weather like that? To get exercise, duh! My fitness room is currently being remodeled!

You may have noticed my eldest daughter over there in the corner stuffing her face with dirty, exhaust-coated snow and, alternately, feasting on the contents of her nostrils. She does this not, as I know you believe, because she lives on canned Alphagetti and Kraft Dinner and is craving those essential vitamins and minerals missing from her daily diet. No, she does this for more mysterious and complex gastrointestinal reasons that her father and I have yet to figure out. We've signed her up for wine-tasting classes next week. Really.

What's that? You still don't believe me? Well, come a little closer to the screen and lemme tell you a little secret. A little closer.....that's right, more close....*WHAM!!!!*

There. That'll help change your mind.