The Day My Trailer Trash Mom Went Insane

I know I’ve already put up a post today, but this really deserved it’s own, separate discussion with all you faithful blog followers. For this will forever go down in history as the day my Trailer Trash Mom went insane.

I actually think my Trailer Trash Mom has gone insane before. There was that time when I was in 6th grade and she cried uncontrollably for six hours straight at the kitchen sink because Patrick Swayze went to heaven at the end of the movie Ghost. There was also that time she was dating Marvin Gaye’s former drummer and showed up at the Fresno International Airport asking for her plane ticket to tour Madonna with him, even though she had no actual information beyond something he had said months prior. Yeah, my Trailer Trash Mom has issues – this is why I usually try to keep her at a distance.

So the Mother’s Day gala of the century is just a few days away, and she is now out to prove how angry she is at the world by abusing me over the whole meal preparation thing as much as she possibly can. I realize, now, that the reason she is throwing this little shindig (mostly in her own honor) is because last year I didn’t really do anything for her for the day. This may explain why I caved and continue to take her drama.

When she showed up at my house today to take Pookie to swim lessons so that I would not be interrupted in my six hour cake bake (yes, the cake I was baking takes roughly six hours to bake), she walked into the kitchen and saw all five layers of the cake cooling. This means that the majority of my work was done – the two red velvet layers, the two french vanilla layers, and the thick layer of sticky fudge to hold it all together in the middle were all done. All that was left was to freeze the layers for a few days and then stack the layers together and ice the cake on Saturday night.

My Trailer Trash Mom

Heather, it looks like these layers are going to break apart


Yeah, they are fine. That is how they have to cool so that they fit together properly when I put the cake together. They will not break, just don’t touch them.

Note: my Trailer Trash Mom again has revealed to me at this point how little she actually knows about baking and cooking. Her cooking tastes like shit and the last time she baked anything she almost burned down our apartment doing so.

My Trailer Trash Mom

(Mumbling) Oh yeah, you know everything Heather … you know everything …

My Trailer Trash Mom then left and took Pookie to swimming. 

I should also mention at this point that I was at my dad’s house. I was baking bacon a week or so ago and spilled grease all over the bottom of my oven, which caused smoke to permeate through our entire apartment, setting off the fire alarm and causing a neighborhood ruckus. Afterwards, the grease melded with whatever else was at the bottom of my oven so that now it looks like I was cooking human intestines in the bottom of the damn thing, and I have yet to find the time to clean it out. So today I gathered my things and went to my dad’s house – he has a nicer oven anyway.

My Dad With the Harry Caray Glasses

…walked out to the kitchen to get a Diet Coke

Uh, Heather … what the fuck happened to your cakes?

(Yes, my dad said “fuck” … he says it all the time, which is particularly ironic given how much he bitches at me for saying it so often in my blogs.)


What do you mean? They’re cooling.

I walked into the kitchen and saw that my mother has destroyed my cakes. That’s right, my Trailer Trash Mom broke apart my cakes – the most egregious of which was the fudge that was supposed to hold the entire thing together.

I began to cry.

My Dad With the Harry Caray Glasses

Wow, your mom is one vindictive bitch!

Yes, dad. Yes, she is. I see now why they divorced over twenty years ago.

The remainder of my day was spent shopping and drinking copious amounts of wine. My husband says that I should just say ‘screw it’ altogether on the dessert. My Dad With the Harry Caray Glasses says I should just go buy a box set and make a new cake. I just can’t get over how insane my mother is. All the crying episodes about the movie Ghost, and the whole Marvin Gaye’s drummer thing, doesn’t compare in the least bit to a directly malicious act. I have yet to even bring it up with my Trailer Trash Mom. I’m sure she’ll just spew more of her hillbilly shit all over the place.

Or maybe it will be like an intervention. I don’t know, I still can’t even decide what to do about the cake. No matter what, I think this really was the day My Trailer Trash Mom went insane. Like really insane – who even knows what will happen next.

How to Have a Hillbilly Thanksgiving

This post has sadly been removed due to publication and copyright laws. You can still read it, though, by buying B(itch) Against the World for unlimited viewing, plus more great and new posts from 2011. And it’s only $2.99! Click the picture of the cover for more details!


Introducing the Hillbilly Chronicles

What is the deal with people’s obsession with the unfortunate majority of our society that seems to always like their business in the front and the party in the back?  You know who I’m talking about … the overall-wearing, beat-up truck-driving, Coors-drinking, tooth-missing, sister-marrying, I-like-to-post-photographs-of-myself-on-the-toilet-on-the-Internet hillbillies.  Perhaps I’m stereotyping, but then ultimately classifying someone as such is really nothing more than applying stereotypes to a person in the first place.  So yeah, I’m talking about hillbillies.

Here’s the deal:  every day I check on my blog stats and included in the daily WordPress report is a list of things people searched for that brought them to my blog.  I think I have blogged about “hillbilly” topics twice, maybe three times at most.  And yet, the most popular search terms on a day-in, day-out basis are relative to hillbillies, rednecks, trailer trash, white trash, and the like.  Shockingly, the most popular hillbilly-related searches are tied at “hillbilly shit” and “hillbilly marries sister.”  It is unprecedented how many times people search those exact terms, thus I have to ask:  what is the obsession with hillbillies?

Is it because nine out of ten hillbillies have a haircut that both (a) was out of style in the early 80s, and (b) is known to look horrible, and yet still worn.  I’m talking, of course, about the mullet.  There really is no way you can do a mullet right.  I can’t even understand, really, why so many people still have them.  And sometimes they just look so awful you have to just wonder:  do these people think they’re being funny?  Take this kid for example.  Is it possible that when this kid got his hair cut he actually was being serious?  Look at him!  It doesn’t even make sense!  On the very top it’s buzzed but then in the very front he has partial bangs.  In the back he has the ultimate of mullet parties going on, and the sides have some shaved design.  A shaved design?  Does this kid not have parents?  The whole mullet thing in itself is an anomaly, so I can see why hillbillies would fascinate people.  This can’t be the sole reason for such popularity that hillbillies carry, though, for if it were then people would have been searching “mullet” rather than “hillbilly.”  The mullet may be a big part of it, but it certainly isn’t the crux of it all.

How about the outlandish things that hillbillies do, like marry their sisters and post photographs online of themselves on the toilet – is it that?  You even start to type “hillbilly” into Google Image search and by the “…bi…” you’ve got photo after photo of those people sitting on the toilet popping up on your screen.  It doesn’t end there – they’ve even begun taking videos of themselves on the can and posting them on Youtube, and seem to be on a search to find the most bizarre places possible that they can plant said can for use.  As I said, the one that shows up frequently in the search terms on my blog site statistics is “hillbilly marries sister.”  There are even interesting variations that show up:  “toothless hillbilly marries sister;” “hillbilly marries pregnant sister;” and even “hillbilly marries sister with shotgun in hand and overalls falling down.”  While it’s possible that the outlandish behaviors of the trashier members of our community is the cause of such unprecedented popularity on my blog, I’m pretty sure that this alone isn’t the driving force behind the obsession either.  I think the proof for that lies in the other most prevalent search term that leads people to my blog “hillbilly shit.”

It’s gotta’ be the hillbilly shit.  I know I’ve dropped the s-bomb enough times on this post to ensure I never make it on WordPress’s Freshly Pressed, but it’s important to dissect this oft-searched term in finding the truth behind the Hillbilly Chronicles.  The search term “hillbilly shit” has shown up enough times on my site statistics that either there is one person out there so obsessed with my blog that (after realizing the term would result in my site), they keep typing it in for the sake of finding my blog; or, much more likely, a lot of people truly hold an air of “I’m better than that hillbilly shit.”  I think it’s the latter.  I think that people are so obsessed with hillbilly culture because they think of themselves as better than it.  Have you ever searched online for the definitions or pictures of something for the sole purpose of justifying that you are not, in fact, it?  That’s what the proponents of the “hillbilly shit” search are doing.  And why wouldn’t they think they are better when 9 out of 10 are walking around with ridiculous hairdos; and many more act in ways that leave one thinking what was that guy thinking?!  Whether it is from truth or not, hillbillies are associated with everything our society doesn’t want:  unemployment, welfare, teenage pregnancy, incest, unattractiveness, drunk driving, and Wal-mart.  Now while it is most certainly unfair to peg all hillbillies as (in most cases) degenerates to society (and believe you me, I know a lot of hillbillies that are not, and yet still are unambiguously hillbillies), it should then come as no surprise that people search in an effort to remind themselves of what they are not.

That may be the more pejorative way to look at it:  finding the bad in people, rather than the sheer possibility of fun that can come of just looking at pictures of mullets and reading about another incestuous shot-gun wedding.  Whatever it may be, hillbillies are a popular topic, one this blogger cannot ignore.  As it normally goes when you sell your soul for the sake of ratings, I cannot deny the readers what they want.  All-things-hillbilly can now be found under their own tab on my Homepage:  The Hillbilly Chronicles.  Check back frequently for updates, old posts, and all the mullets and overalls you can handle.