Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: It’s Time To Jiggle Those Redneck Rolls And Vacuum That Chin. Let’s Get S’mages!Sunday, August 25th, 2013
It’s true. My Costco Milkshakes do bring all the boys to the yard. All of them except for that one guy who used to thin out my shrubs.
That’s just nasty.
Seriously. I have no idea what the hell they’re all talkin’ about, but I’ll bet it has something to do with biscuits again.
I love June and the girls, but I dunno know if I love ‘em enough to fish my cufflinks out of a damn public toilet.
Oh. My. Gawd. This is my life? I’ve never actually watched this show before.
French tips ain’t just for glitz pageants anymore. Don’t be hatin’ on my Manly Mani, Bitches.
Phthhhhhhfffffft….. That’s what I think.
It is what it is.
And it’s always sumthin.
It looks like somebody is finally trying to put the ‘L’ back in TLC, because so far this season Here Comes Honey Boo Boo has definitely been a learning experience.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve already seen, touched, heard, tasted and smelled more new things than I did in all four years of college.
And trust me…that’ saying something. (Sorry, Mom. I told you not to Google my site.)
Seriously. I freakin’ love every single Boo in BooVille, but they are costing me an arm and a leg in eye drops and hand sanitizer. Some things just can’t be unseen or hygienically wiped down, no matter how hard you rub your TV screen.
The Countdown to Commitment continued this week as Mama June and Sugar Bear‘s non-wedding grew closer. The shiz was starting to get real.
While Mama ran (…ok…probably shuffled…) around the house making lists and cooking something with butter, Sugar Bear was outside on the front steps bonding with the girls.
As nice as it was to see Shugie show the love for his family, it was even nicer to see that Nugget the Chicken had finally made it outside and wasn’t rubbing his egg chute all over the kitchen counter again this week.
Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate a well prepared omelet as much as the next guy, but when your living room couch doubles as a chicken coop…not so much. On the other hand, it probably is a real timesaver to have your chicken already sitting in a pot when it’s time to leggo my eggo.
The big question out on the porch was whether or not Sugar Bear would be wearing a fresh pair of tighty whities during the ceremony, or just stick with the undies he’s worn since Nixon resigned.
(Political history reference. I told you this was a learning experience.)
I’m not sure I really want to know what’s going on down there inside his Carhartts, but whatever it is…he called it a Wedding Surprise. Lightening Bolt Pumpkin even offered to go commando in a show of solidarity and then Baby Kaitlyn‘s little beanie popped right off her head.
It did. Check it out. She dropped her milk, too.
Since the stress of planning a non-wedding can really wear a girl out, everyone decided that they should all head to the park to burn off some steam and shovel down some freshly grilled hot dogs and sausages.
Nobody was allowed to mention the Commitment Ceremony or say the M Word for one afternoon. This was their time to chillax, snarf down some snacks and watch Mama straddle a chain link fence.
Well…ok. That last part probably wasn’t on the original itinerary, but when they got to the park and were faced with the barricade, June mounted it like a true Kardashian.
Wasn’t it Brooke Shields who once said that Nothing comes between Me and my discounted Oscar Mayer Wieners?
Bow Chicka Boo Boo.
As Mama set the picnic table with generic Chinet and watched Sugar Bear try to light 3 pounds of charcoal with a convenience store Bic, the older girls prepared for battle.
Because it was Ball Wars. And it was on, bitches.
Basically, the game pits two people against each other, each holding a giant inflated bouncy ball. The goal is to run towards each other like that last scene in Braveheart, screaming some kind of Redneck WarCry until you collide, knock each other down and the balls going flying out into traffic.
If someone blacks out or cracks their head open…bonus points. And more wieners for the winner.
The showdown was Anna vs. Pumpkin, which Sugar Bear compared to an 18 wheeler running over a 4 wheeler on black ice during a white out blizzard on the highway.
It’s pretty technical, but it’s basically a mathematical equation involving mass, force, velocity, speed and square footage based on cheese ball absorption.
Technical, but not pretty.
After Pumpkin spread Anna out on the turf like Nutella on day old white bread, she explained that her momentus was responsible for the win.
You heard me. Momentus. It’s Science.
(TLC. Never stop learning.)
The next day, Mama was back to stressing out as the girls all took Sugar Bear on the hunt for a tuxedo. Just because he was going to be wearing dirty undies on the inside didn’t mean that he couldn’t be pretty on the outside, right?
So it was off to the House of Hines to Experience the Elegance of Macon’s premiere destination for wedding and formal wear. Where their customers are treated like royalty, their employees cater to your every need and their selection is second to none.
And their motto is “You Flush It, You Bought It.”
This place has been in business for over 47 years. They are based out of a refurbished three story plantation house and have basically hogged all the tuxedo business in the middle of Georgia for the last four decades.
But they made Sugar Bear try on his tuxedo in the employee bathroom. With the lid up.
Forty seven years later and you haven’t figured out how to turn any of those Civil War Underground Railroad closets into a fitting room? Really?
(History lesson. You’re welcome.)
Let’s just say that if you have people trying on clothes in the bathroom, I don’t even want to know what the other guys are doing in the actual fitting rooms.
Somehow Sugar Bear managed to get his tuxedo on without clogging the neighbor’s septic tank and gave an impromptu fashion show for the girls, who all squealed in delight.
He thought he kind of looked like a secret agent guy, so we got to see him pose like he was squirrel huntin’ in a tux. I’m pretty sure I even heard Adele singing that catchy new James Bond song from somewhere in the building.
She must have been in the other loo trying on Grammy gowns. She’s British, you know.
Back home again, all the girls pig piled onto the bed and tried to brainstorm how to keep Mama from losing her nutty. I love when they all plop down like a crime scene and put their feet in each other’s faces. Because I’m klassy like dat.
Alana suggested that they all get s’mages, which I thought was a fancier redneck version of s’mores that I had yet to experience. But it turned out that what she meant was just going for massages.
Hopefully the Posh Spot strip mall day spa had some specials on chin vacuuming and neck crust removal this week, because the girls totally threw all that nastiness in my face right before I blacked out.
The last thing I remember was a closeup of Mama’s rogue neck hair beckoning me into the moist darkness like some curly finger. Then everything went black.
When I finally came to, Anna was asking Mama something about ladyscaping her overgrown naughty bits for the Commitment Ceremony and I made myself pass out again by holding my breath under a pillow.
I swear, these Boos are literally gonna be the death of me one day. Literally.
Spa Day went exactly as you would imagine a Spa Day would go with this crowd.
Alana got her nails did, Mama got her meat tenderized and some poor salon sistah drew the short straw and had to touch Jessica’s feet.
As Mama paid the bill and they all left the salon, I swear I saw at least half a dozen guys in white HazMat suits going in through the back door with hoses.
Not to be outdone, while all the womenfolk were off getting shucked and plucked, Sugar Bear hit the barbershop for his own mini makeover. A little trim, a quick shave and some deep fingernail excavation and he was gussied up real good and ready to go home and sit by his Burn Barrel.
Because that’s where real men go to think and do stuff.
The Burn Barrel.
I don’t know what you actually burn in a Burn Barrel, but it was seriously torched up as Sugar Bear kicked back in his lawn chair and attempted to write down some vows for the upcoming ceremony. He wanted to express his love for June and the girls and got that teary eyed look he always gets when he thinks about Family.
D’oh. Love that scruffy guy.
Inside, real women don’t need a Burning Barrel. They just need to be surrounded by the tranquility of 476 rolls of toilet paper and enough liquid detergent to flood the Astrodome to inspire their creative juices to start flowing.
As Sugar Bear scribbled down his thoughts in the backyard, Mama was in her Coupon Cave trying to do the same.
June was struggling a little bit, but Shugie had some help as Alana scooted up and gave him pointers on how an 8 year old puts their feelings into words.
From the mouths of babes, and all.
I mean, c’mon. It shouldn’t be that difficult if you love someone, right?
The Wisdom of Honey Boo Boo Child.
And then go shoot some squirrels like a Boss.
Pull my finger, Goldfinger.