Merry White Trash Christmas to You and Yours, Now Let’s Head to K-Mart for Some Layaway

It’s that time of year again, where I coupon and buy one get one free on everything I can to placate my mother and make my aunt feel like someone gives a shit about her existence since her sons aren’t stellar at actually being sons. It’s also the time of year that my sister loosens her sphincter and decides to get wasted listening to Journey’s Greatest Hits and I film it on my phone for blackmail purposes. This October I got laid off from my job (story of my goddamned life) and so I’m literally pulling gifts out of my crimped mullet with the help of coupons and promo codes. The sad part of that is, my gifts will always kick the most ass, even though I am unemployed. And that’s the case this year. You see, I knew my job was going way too awesome, so I started buying shit online back in August. I mean, I was being paid an awesome wage, AND not biting the barrel of a cold pistol at the end of the work day, so in my experience, that always means it won’t last long. Don’t start being all “Oh Sheena, you’re such a pessimist” because it’s called being realistic. Look that shit up in this Dollar Tree dictionary I am putting in your Elvis stocking. Yeh, it was a dollar, that’s how we do.

Anyways, Christmas is bumming me out but I leave for London and Rome in January, so I am whoring my side businesses in hopes to procure extra funds for that. If there’s one thang my pappy taught me, it’s you GOTS to keep hustlin’.

Hey, did you know you can layaway shit again? That was the redneck way back in the 80′s and 90′s. My mom would threaten to put all my layaway-ed clothes for school back when I misbehaved. And judging from the shirts in my school pics, I should have let her. Of course my sister did some layaway-ing when she found that out, and went to the classiest joint of all: K-Mart. K-mart’s empire took a mighty ass tumble somewhere in the early 2000′s, and now it’s about as classy an Insane Clown Posse concert. Regardless, she’s reppin’ the K-mart this year. All I asked for was money for Europe and Keurig K-cups. Ever since I got laid off, I can’t bring my fat ass to pump $6.99 into 12 cups of luxurious coffee.

I’m going to be optimistic though guys. I’ve been working on my book, and unlike this blog, it’s actually becoming a decent read. Although it has come to my attention that this blog has a lot of grammar errors and etc in it, I’d like to politely let you know I don’t actually give a cluck.

I don't give a cluck

I know this blog sucks to heck, but my family hasn’t done anything outrageous recently and I figured I at least needed to spread a little redneck observation into your world for a minute.  I have some good stuff planned in the future for my loyal readers (all 2 of you) so stay tuned and Happy Hollerdays!


Precious memories of our tree brought you by Schlitz Beer and K-Mart.



No, seriously. Let that sweater go BACK TO LAYAWAY.  What the FUCK mom?

WWF Comes to Section 8

It was last week when I was told of a great tale involving a threesome with a handicapped individual, my brother-in-law, and their best friend Busch Lite.

Apparently my brother-in-law went out to visit his friend “One-Eared Willy” in the Section 8 projects where many disabled folks lived.

As they sat on the steps of One-Eared-Willy’s house with beer, a gentleman in a motorized wheelchair rolled over to my brother-in- law, and yelled obscenities while waving around the arm of the wheelchair. “I’m gonna kick your ass motherfucker!” My  brother-in-law was intoxicated and carefree, he wanted no part in that. After all, the world wasn’t ready for the new moves of the Gold-Toothed Gargantuan.

“NO hell you ain’t. Get on out of here!” said my also drunk brother-in-law.
“I’m gonna kick your ass!” said the man on his wheelchair, still waving around his wheelchair handle, ready to fuck something up.

Out came the can of Grizzly dip straight into his cheek, as my brother-in-law reared back on an imaginary wrestling ring, and ran at the mouthy drunk gentleman, clothes lining him completely OUT of his wheelchair, onto the ground. He laid there, in silence, wondering what the hell happened to him.

My brother-in-law  then turned [...]

Hoarding & Extreme Couponing: And Just How The Hell Are They Different?

I’ll admit to you, loyal and anxious reader (all 1 of you) that I’m low on material at the moment to blog about. My family has been relatively functional and I have minimal to bitch about on a personal level.

I do want to spit some of my hot social commentary fire on the subject that came up between myself and a friend recently: Extreme Couponing is the organized non-feces involved version of hoarding.

If there’s 2 things my people are bringing to the public eye, its hoarding and coupons. Don’t act like you haven’t watched in horror as a fat bitch buys 32 bottles of mustard for 12 cents, or gagged into your can of Schlitz beer after seeing someone discover their missing 6 cat corpses under the toy train and doll part-ridden sofa. We all have, and we all swallowed our vomit down with you.

I want you to think for a second about how similar both types are.

First of all, hoarders can’t turn away a deal. And neither can coupon-ers! They will buy ANY FUCKING THING if its free or bottom dollar. For instance, why would a grown ass man need 26 boxes of tampons when he’s alone and [...]


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Who the Hell is Sheena?
Sheena is the name my mom gave me when she heard Sheena Easton's "Morning Train" in 1981. My dad could never say it or remember it, so my sister still calls me "Sheiler" because that's what he called me. I write, I sing, I paint, and more importantly, I'm good at making people laugh. This blog was started in hopes to find the twisted readers who would love what I do, and share with others.
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