~Hack jobs~

I'm so irked.
A few months ago, I took Becca to the beauty salon...she wanted her hair short, and a lady in Warren had opened a shop; I've known her family since childhood in Monticello and decided to patronize her...
She was busy and assured me the other girl would do a good job...she BUTCHERED Becca's hair...I don't know what she did wrong, but I heard '90 angles' and 'what did you do that for' as she and the lady I knew argued over the hackjob.

I wasn't angry...I can't cut hair and am slow to judge people who have talents I don't possess. The lady took Becca, put her in HER chair, and after 45 minutes and three more inches, finally fixed Becca's hair. It was extremely short, but adorable.

Before the girl had started Becca's hair, I had told her I needed a cut, too. So while the other lady was trying to salvage my daughter's 'do, the other one asked if I was ready for mine. I felt embarasssed for her because I had just watched her screw up Becca's hair, and assumed it's because I had asked for a difficult cut. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and told her that yes, she could still trim my hair. I couldn't tell she did ANYTHING to it. It was the WORST trim I've ever been given.

This morning, Chris went to town to get his hair cut because he's flying out to meet CORPORATES in Georgia this week....he has a full week of working in the home store, meetings and powwows with executives (His service department was third in their chain, btw, so I'm very proud of him). He came home wearing his racing cap, but it looked two sizes too big on him. He said, "You're not going to believe this" and took off his hat.

Apparently, his regular girl wasn't open, so he went to the other lady's place instead...she was busy and sat him in a chair...the girl that butchered Becca's and sucked with mine appeared. He didn't know any better, so he let her cut it...I'm telling ya'll, I could have shaved his head, poured lighter fluid on it, set it afire, stomped it out with soccer cleats then drawn hair on with a magic marker and it would have been less of a hack job then what this girl did.

He said in his panicky voice: 'She just kept cutting and cutting', all the while feeling around on his head saying 'What's this, what's this?' at funky spots all over his scalp. It's horrible, and whilst I try really hard not to be a brat and go off on people, I called the beauty shop...I told the owner I appreciated HER skills but the idiot that butchered my hubby's hair was going to run her out of business quickly if she didn't do something soon. I said a few other things, but I try to keep this blog censored so I'll leave that out...I'm so tempted to post a huge picture of the hairdresser on here and say 'Beware of this stupid girl', but I won't do that. Just make sure if you're in Warren, Arkansas, you know the hairdresser really well before she takes scissors to your head

Thankfully, Chris hair grows faster than drama so it'll be filled out a little by morning, and a lot more by Monday. I just hope they don't mistake him for a refugee and send him off to some 3rd world country when he tries to get on the plane. I'm tempted to make him a teeshirt that says 'My hair is usually sexier than this.'

~A triple-dog dare~

This is another old one from my private page. I was not going to post it publicly because it's dumb, but I was tripledog-dared. And I rarely pass up a tripledog-dare. It's a wonder I haven't shot my eye out yet. I DID stick my tongue to the end of a frozen orange juice can when I was a kid once and got stuck though. It hurt, too.
~~~~~~

I told at least three or four of ya'll something I wanted for Christmas, but I don't remember who. Since I can't remember who exactly I told and can't go back and say 'oops', I'm just going to tell all of ya'll in case there's someone besides me that doesn't already know about this. However, by the looks of my research, I think I MUST BE the only person that didn't know this.

I told my sister last night same thing I've told a few people. My sister has been TORTURING ME about what she got me for Christmas. And I have guessed EVERYTHING I can think of. I said 'Is it a banana hammock?"

My sister was like "WHAT???? You dummy! Do you even KNOW what a banana hammock is???" I said, 'Uh, Yeah. It's a hammock for your bananas. I've wanted one forever."

"OMG, Jayme." Then I could hear her calling her hubby away from the Bears/Packers showdown. "Bobbbb! Do you know what this fool just said she wants for Christmas? A banana hamock." I didn't see what was so funny. Bob was a chef and is all OCD about his kitchen so I figured he'd say "I'd like one of those, too." Instead, I heard him in the background say "Well, my Lord," and start laughing.

I googled and searched on my most favorite online dictionary, and I'm posting what I found.

First, though, this is the banana hammock I want:



Ain't it cute??? I want a real hammock, too, then I saw the following pic, and I wish my sofa was a hammock:



Anyhoo, I want a banana hammock because I never have anywhere to put my bananas, and they are my most favorite fruit.

And this is what I found along the lines of my sister's claims on my fav dictionary site:

~A man's speedo swimsuit.

"Look at all of the banana hammocks in Fort Lauderdale. "


~A men's style of undergarment that holds the genitalia in a sling-like hammock apparatus, allowing the ******* to protrude offensively. Favored by greasy Europeans at the beach, and even greasier weightlifters during competition and posedown sessions.

"When I was swimming at the Y the other day, this hairy Italian hedgehog was hanging out at the pool all day showing off his silky red banana hammock."

"Joe: This banana hammock's crushing my hardyboys. It's no mystery."

"This banana hammock is chafing my butt cheeks"

"I think I'll wear a banana hammock instead of boxers today."

"I have to lose the winter tire, so my banana hammock still fits."


~A phrase used between guys to tell one another to check out one girl or another
"Hey, Vince... banana hammock at 5 o'clock."

~An athletic supporter. A jock strap. Very common since at least the 1950s.

"What are you giving your husband for his birthday Jane?"
"I thought I'd get him a new banana hammock, Mavis."

~Come & listen to my story 'bout a man named Jed~

“She tried to hide it by the faded denim clothes she wore
But I knew she'd never been inside a bar before”





My mother always says she's 'never been to a honky tonk and wants to go just once.' We've tried to take her several times, but she always goes 'NOOO! What if someone sees me there?!?' A friend, rest his soul, used to say "Baptists are the friendliest people in the world, except when they see each other in the liquor store." Haa. I think that's funny, and I love my Baptists...I'm a Baptist, and I understand the truth in that lil saying....I fight my spiritual battles and have remembered my church covenant every time I've ever taken a sip.
My mother, though she’s never graced the doors of a bar, is the root of my classic country passion. Her favorite is Marty Robbins’ In the Misty Moonlight (their song) and anything Conway Twitty. She has told me of the time dad took her to one of his concerts, and as he finished singing one of MY personal Conway Twitty favorites “Don’t Cry, Joni”, a woman stood up in the back and screamed, “Serves ya right!” I realize you may have to google the song to see why that’s so funny.
Conway Twitty, by the way, was born Harold Lloyd Jenkins in Mississippi. When he was 10 years old, his family moved to Helena, Arkansas, and it was there he grew and later formed his first singing group, The Phillips County Ramblers. Within two years, he had his own radio show and was offered to play baseball with the Philadelphia Phillies, but an Army draft ended that dream. Following his discharge from the Army, he headed to Memphis, Tenn., and worked with Sam Phillips at Sun Studios, the home of greats like Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Cash. However, he didn’t think he name was marketable, so in 1957, he was looking at a road map and noticed Conway, Arkansas, and Twitty, Texas. Just so ya know...





~~~~~~~~~~





“Ya’ll come see us now, ya hear?”





The other day, I took my daddy to town for dinner and shopping. In the car, my daddy couldn't see the stereo panel very well, and he was really trying to find me some good music, so he bounced from cd 1 to am to cd 4 to fm to cd 2. Just as I could tell he was getting frustrated and I was feeling bad about that, a few notes played on cd 5. "OH! I love this one! You'll like it!," he said excitedly and turned up the volume. I was disappointed a little that it wasn‘t “Rainy Day Woman” by Waylon Jennings, which I know for a fact is Number One on CD 4 in their car. "It's Jed Clampit," he said. He was right...I did enjoy it.
Now, I don’t know if that’s his birth name or if he just had a fondness for the Beverly Hillbillies, but Jed Clampit is a Monticello-rooted musician who used to be friends with my dad and stop by the shop when I was little to see him in between his road trips. I couldn't have been more than 8 the first time I met him and was certain he was the long-haired guy from the Oak Ridge Boys, whose songs I lip-synced often back then. By the time I saw him again a few years later, I confused him with the ZZTop guy.
One of the few cars, trucks, buses, vans, 18-wheelers, or delivery trailers that I actually specifically remember of the thousands that went in out of our bays...the thousands I crawled around, sanded, leaned and turned ratchets on all the time throughout my childhood and first half of my adulthood... was Mr. Jed’s big ol’ tour bus that my dad painted. During racing season, I get to glance at it each Saturday as I speed down the highway south of Monticello towards the dirt track.
My dad and I ran his errands with Mr. Jed singing beautiful gospel songs all the way; I dropped my dad off, came home and logged onto myspace. My friend Randy (who I think we should start calling Rob hahaha) had an update…he had just became friends with JED CLAMPIT. I was stunned! I was shocked Mr. Jed had a page, but more shocked I HAD JUST BEEN LISTENING TO HIS MUSIC, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. Perhaps Randy has some kind of cosmic connection to my dad, because he worked for years with my daddy’s family at Radio Shack/Strykers, and my dad always thought he was ‘a good kid.’
I added Jed Clampit and sent him a note with the request…”OMGoSH, Mr. Jed! This is Big Ben’s youngest daughter and I took him to town tonight and we were listening to YOUR songs!” I have not seen this man since before I was in junior high, and I was just shocked.
He emailed back and said, “Tell Big Ben hi,“ and said he plays at the River on Wednesday nights. So THAT’S why Randy the Robber had added him…
I called my Daddy and told him, and he’s really excited about it. My mom has shingles this week, so if she’s better next week, I’ma take her to the place which has a bar. She could possibly kick, scream and pray all the way there, but I'ma do it anyways.
My daddy’s the best Baptist deacon I know, and my mom is, if nothing else, the funniest deacon‘s wife you‘ll ever meet. So, Mr. Jed (and Randy), I’m taking my mom to fulfill her sinful dream and my daddy to visit you. There’s either gonna be a reunion or a revival….maybe both.

www.myspace.com/jedclampitmusic

~I'm here, there, everywhere...~

I saw a thing a few weeks ago on my friend Dean's blog, but now I can't find it anywhere. It had to do with live feeds, and putting all your pages in one location, or something to that effect.
What I need is a page that I can check everything from, including yahoo, myspace, facebook, twitter, my blog, and a few other websites i go to often, such as the pine bluff commercial and monticellolive (woop woop joe...i just gave ya a shoutout!).

IS there something like this that exists, and where do I find it?

~My new blog~

I'm weirded out a little. I feel like I'm wandering off from camp into the wilderness without my flashlight. Perhaps I should change my layout to something other than black, then I'll just feel like I'm wandering off in daylight. I've stayed inside the realms of my myspace page, so I hope I start generating friends here soon before I freak and go back. LOL

Teenager stabbed to death during July 4 festivities

Alicia Ammons, 19, of Monticello was convicted Friday by a Drew County jury of manslaughter and sentenced to ten years in the Arkansas Department of Correction in the death of 15-year-old Courtland Jones. She had been charged with first-degree murder after she plunged a bread knife into Jones’ neck during an altercation on July 4. Ammons was angry the teenager had allegedly shot fireworks and either almost struck or struck her infant.

Her father, Clarence Ammons, 48, who his attorney told the court is a convicted felon, was acquitted of aggravated assault in the presence of a minor. He had also originally also faced murder charges, but the charges were reduced pre-trial.

The jury (including two alternates who were released from their duties prior to deliberations) held a ratio of nine men/five women: 12 Caucasian jurors and two African-American jurors.

Courtland Jones and a group of 10-15 other boys were walking on Robin Hood Drive the evening of July 4, firing bottle rockets and roman candles into a yard where several members of the Ammons family had gathered for a barbecue. Several people and children were in the front yard of the house. When the boys, who Clarence Ammons’ defense attorney said ’were not just boys, they were a gang” shot fireworks into the yard, Clarence Ammons approached the boys and said, according to his attorney Steven Porch, “Would you stop shooting fireworks this way? There are children in the yard.” Jones replied that Ammons couldn’t tell him what to do, a few words were exchanged, then the group left and walked the street. At some point during this time, an 11-year-old relative of Alicia Ammons testified that Alicia Ammons was sitting in a truck in the driveway, listening to music, and shouted, “If one of those hit my baby, you’re head’s gonna come off.”

A short time later, the boys returned, and according to testimony by both a boy in the group with Jones and a friend of Alicia Ammons, one of the boys shot a bottle rocket into the yard as Jones began lighting a roman candle with a cigarette lighter, then pointed it towards the yard where the Ammons family was gathered and began firing. As sparks flew across the yard, some of the children were gathered up and taken into the house (although throughout the trial there was confusion and it was never determined who had taken Alicia Ammons’ infant son from her before the stabbing and where the child was during the the situation until more than three hours after the crime had taken place and Alicia Ammons was in custody; the child never received medical attention for being injured). Clarence Ammons went to the road and said, according to his defense attorney Steven Porch, “Why are ya’ll doing this? Stop!” One of the boys in the group testified they were being fired at by someone in the Ammons yard. Again, words were exchanged, and testimony was conflicting as to whether Clarence Ammons initially approached the boys with a butcher knife, or whether Alicia Ammons approached the group holding both the butcher knife and the bread knife that was used to kill Jones. According to Porch, Clarence Ammons took the butcher knife away from Alicia Ammons and stood in between her and the group of boys. There was also conflict in testimony as to whether Clarence Ammons, at any time before or after the stabbing, kicked Jones in the leg, face, or at all.

During the altercation, Clarence Ammons was punched in the nose by Courtland Jones, grabbed his face, dropped the butcher knife he said he had taken away from his daughter, and Alicia Ammons reached around her father and plunged the knife into Jones’ neck.

According to Porch, Clarence Ammons heard one of the boys say “She stabbed my homeboy”; he grabbed his daughter and pushed her back away from them, then fled with two other subjects in the truck Alicia Ammons had previously been sitting in. Alicia Ammons also fled the scene with her sister and a friend in a separate vehicle. Authorites stopped both vehicles shortly after being notified of the stabbing.

Monticello Police Sgt. Walter H. Hollinger testified that he found the butcher knife in the floorboard of the seat Clarence Ammons was sitting when the vehicle was stopped. A blood-covered bread knife was found at the scene. “I asked him what had happened and he said, “Fireworks were flying everywhere and a boy got cut,” Hollinger said. When Alicia Ammons was apprehended a few minutes later, Hollinger said she told him, “That son of a bitch almost hit my child with a bottle rocket.” He testified that she was still agitated, upset and yelling when officers took her into custody.

Deputy Prosecutor Zach Vaughn presented a majority of the case, with 10th Judicial District Thomas Deen assisting, and introduced witnesses, including: Arkansas State Police Special Agent Rick McKelvey, first responders, neighbors, and a nurse who treated Jones at Drew Memorial Hospital before he was transported to Arkansas Children’s hospital along with Officer Larry Smith Jr., who each testified that Jones had told them “Mott did it.” Alicia Ammons is sometimes known as Mott.

Circuit Judge Bynum Gibson presided over the case; Attorney Joe Mazzanti represented Alicia Ammons; and Porch defended Clarence Ammons.

The jury sentenced Alicia Ammons to the maximum of ten years for manslaughter; 1/6th of the sentence is mandatory, which is approximately 18 months, according to court officials. Ammons has already served close to six months in jail awaiting trial. She will give birth to a baby in a few months.

Awaiting word on sentencing Friday night, Jones' mother said of the conviction of manslaughter over first or second degree murder: "I broke down at first, but I'll just have to find peace with it. I'm okay. I just gave it to God. I just had to give it to God.

"I heard him," she said, "They wouldn't let me back there at the hospital, but I heard him through the door say 'Tell my momma I'm gonna be okay,'and I knew God would take care of my baby."

Walking up the steps towards the courtroom to await the sentencing phase of the trial, someone offered her a place on the elevator, "I can make it," she said. "I've gone this far, surely I can take a few more steps."
After Ammons, who had originally faced as much as life in prison, had been sentenced to then years for the manslaughter conviction, Circuit Judge Bynum Gibson informed Ammons of her sentence and asked her if she had anything to say for herself. Mazzanti spoke for his client and said no, she had nothing to say.
Gibson addressed Jones' mother and expressed condolences, then once again addressed Ammons, asking her repeatedly if there was nothing she'd like to say...."Do you show NO remorse?" She stood silently and stared back at Gibson. She was taken into custody and escorted by Drew County Sheriff Mark Gober to the Drew County Detention Facility.


~Story/photos were taken/written for and published with the permission of the Pine Bluff Commercial by Jayme Lawson~

~Stuff Christians Like~

My favorite blog that I've found thus far...
I recommend him to ANY of my friends to read. It's great. I got addicted to it (is that as bad a sin as cursing?) then got away from the whole blog scene for a few months, but now, just one post has got me hooked again.

Add him to your feeds. He's the best, especially for an unorthadox person such as myself.

http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/