Why We Need Duct Tape… Important!!!


As all of us poor “white, ghetto & whatever else for you happen to be of…trash”… are familiar with it what it is like to have to be creative in making things work… It isn’t like we can all whip out our credit cards and go buy whatever the fuck we want…  I mean, really…. Not like they are gonna give one to me or to anyone I associate with… Honey…. last time I checked, I am pretty sure…  my credit is so fucking special that I am what is considered to be a “credit criminal”… No.. you moron, not like someone who goes out and steals ID’s… but more like someone who says “sucker” to the dumb ass credit card agency that was stupid enough to send me an actual card… and actually think I am gonna pay them back…  WTF are they thinking…. didn’t they pull my credit report before sending it to me…. Hey… in my opinion, my credit report is “full disclosure” that I do not and have never had any intentions of ever repaying any “credit” that some dumb ass sucker chose to gave to me…   It isn’t like I can hide my credit past… I am simply “using” the gift presented to me…

Then comes reality….  Ah.. something just broke and I can’t go to the store and pick up a new one, a part of a new one or even a take something back to get a new one.. Hell no…  all I got to my name is $3….. We know I gotta save $2 bucks for $2 Buck Chuck…. those of you whom may not have a “Trader Joes”… that is where I can go buy a bottle of a step above the ghetto negro cat white wine and the cost is $2 Bucks…So, this leaves me$1 freaking dollar to my name….  How can I fix what needs fixing with a buck???  Oh hell… come on… this is a damn recession…. where do you and every one else you know, shops at today…. either proudly or with dark glasses on and driving 20 miles out of their way to avoid being seen by the other snobs in their neighborhood…  Well sweet cheeks…. we shop at the freaking $1 Store of course…. You can find everything you need (except wine!!! ) at the dollar store… damn… why don’t they sell wine???

Now… I drive my lame ass to get my wine…  then I drive my ass quite proudly to the nearest dollar store by my Apartment… maybe not so much in pride as in the sheer lack of gas in my car…  remember…I am poor white trash…  (at least for this blog bella…) I haul my ass into the store… grab my little green hand basket… as though I am actually going to fill it up with dollar items… yeah right!!!!  I walk straight to the home improvement isle of the store… look… look again, damn it had better be here…  Ahhh… there it is… “Duct Tape”… the master of all repair materials…. I love my Duct Tape… I proudly walk to the cashier.. acting as though I have to search thru my wallet amongst all my large bills to find a dollar bill… you know baby, it is all about the “show” the “smoke”….the whatever…  Anyway, I buy my big gray roll of duct tape… Oooh Baby!!   I am gonna get back in my 1990’s Chrysler… K car…what color you ask???  White of course… and I am going to drive my white trash mobile to my apartment and I am gonna do some repairs…

First…  My damn dish washer wants to fall out when I open the door… Simple fix…. open door… take 4 long strips of tape and wrap them from the top of the counter to the inside of the top part of the dishwasher… Ahhh… fixed!  I am getting the sense that I could achieve a “semi” stainless look in my kitchen if I use enough of this magic fix all….Next… my vertical blinds… well… seems a few of them won’t stay in the clips…  simple … get up on a chair…. get a few small pieces of tape…. and wrap it around the top of the blind to the clip…. 2 down… how many more to go…. Lets go to the bathroom… the toilet paper roll has a messed up spring…. so it keeps popping out… ooh… this will be easy… tape it to the bar…. Ahhh… 3 down…  Microwave door handle keeps falling down… seems to have lost a fucking screw and I wish I could say I gotta a screw… I mean that I found the screw… but.. anyway… No screw…but you know what I got???  Duct tape… just tape that handle to the microwave and to really make sure it sticks make it go up and over the door…really feeling more like a modern kitchen with each repair…  Ahhh… 4 down…  Wait…  when I was driving home… I hate hearing the passenger side window rattle…the handle keeps jarring loose…. Yes, I said handle… this is a “K” car remember… with plush faded blue interior and a “bench” seat….  Ooh baby!!!  I am now gong to tape that damn handle into place and run the tape up the window!!!!  Mother won’t move now….  So…what else can I do… I am having issues with my bra… the wire keeps poking out…and this poor white trash can’t afford a new one this week… so… I think I will tape the wire securely in…  ( that was not such a great idea… in case it crosses your mind.. it itches!!!)  However in looking in the mirror as I was getting out of the shower yesterday morning…I noticed my pointers were starting to become setters and wondered if  maybe I should give some thought to giving myself a “duct tape” boob lift!!!

Duct Tape Baby….  Girls gotta have it… it is a fix all… it even keeps the bottom of that special toy together so the batteries don’t fall out…

Ciao Bella…. “White Trash” Sarah B…

(This is all made up except the battery part!!  LOL )

The True Definitian Of A GC!!!


Atrist Gregory Hergert

While chatting with a girlie friend of mine over a bottle of cheap white wine the other day, making fun of the the mullets that women still wear and simply asking each other “Why?”….Do they not own mirrors???    No honey, the wine we were drinking wasn’t Chablis… But we have been down that road a time or two in the past and have pinky swore over the toilet the next day that we would never take that trip together ever… no matter how fucking god damn dirt poor we are… get…stay… will be… LOL!!!  While, we are able to recognize that we were not in the most of upscale places… but instead a bit closer to the hood – ghetto – crack central, whatever your neighborhood calls it, where they sell cheap ass white, red or worst yet pink wine.. Honey, we aren’t that proud…   We consider ourselves “Thrifty” spenders… maximizing our dollars!!!

We now have begun to notice of what we call several G. C.’s sitting amongst us while on our upscale night out…  G.C.’s???  You ask what is that???  Come on Muffin… you gotta know what a G.C. is… don’t you???  Really,  I mean, who doesn’t???  What could G.C. possibly stand for???  Oh please… get over yourselves… you simply aren’t that high up the ladder to think it is something nice… I mean, really get over your wide ass load self…  Everyone has a definition of what G.C. stands for… Now, in our case a G.C. stands for the following…

Ghetto Cracker…  “Our definition”  is a white, wide ass,  mullet wearing, 80’s hair with poofy bangs, blue eye shadow, pouring herself into a pair wranglers with what I like to call a super “double muffin top”… one above her belt.. and one that is stacked on top of her real set of boobs… ( god I hope those are real, cuz they are scaring the hell outta me and any kids around!!! )  You know the ones, they pop out the top of the bra she should have thrown away 3 cup sizes ago or should I say, 3 kids ago, but she holds onto as it is the only way she is able to keep those “puppies” remaining pointers and not setters… that is a Ghetto Cracker…  Now G.C. can mean a few other things… let’s say…

Good Christian… please do you really want me of all people to give you the “Sarah B” view of a Good Christian… OK, you asked for it… and here is goes…  The same lame ass Ghetto Cracker listed above who is hung over on Sunday mornings after picking up her multiple children from multiple fathers at the all night baby sitter…. oh please, let not forget to add multiple races… (gotta keep it in the hood, bario, crack central)  She chugs a few cups of yesterday’s cold coffee, lights a few smokes… (ooh!!!)   Wipes off last nights make up and put on a jean skirt and boots and drags her wide ass load and 3 chicklets to church for 3 hours Sunday morning… 1 day a week… give or take a few extra trips on holidays… that is my definition of a “Good Chetto Christian Cracker”…  Now we could expand and say G.C. stood for the following…  Got Child???  Here is the meaning…  Mullet man is hitting on mullet woman in a western bar and wants to get some action that night… but is wondering if she’s “Got Child or Got Children” at home or is he going to have to bring her to his mom’s house to do his wild monkey love dance…   (ooohhh!!! YUCK!!!)  OR… it could mean or should I say silently whisper… Got Child!!!   So, mullet woman is on the hunt for a mate for the next few months…  Welfare isn’t quite making the bills… so, she is on the prowl and needs to weed out the weak and the smart… she seeks the longest mullet with the most empty cans of beer in front of him… cozies her big ole double muffins up to him and catches his eyes… then whispers a few things in his ear…  she is fully aware he is wanting some big yummy muffins for breakfast… so she silently mouths… I Got Child!!!… He doesn’t run…cuz he can’t get his eyes out of her muffins cups… and  baby cakes, those beers make damn fucking great goggles…  so they hop into his firebird and now the rent is paid for a few months…

Now.. G.C. could also mean… “Gonad Crusher”… I love this term… because after our “Ghetto Good Christian Cracker” that’s “Got Child” ( multiple!!!)  is done, used up and movinng on from her mullet man… cuz all his money is gone and his firebird is in need of  a new ashtray; the right side sits just a ad bit bit lower… So she is about to become theMaster “Gonad Crusher” and move on to the next unsuspecting mullet man and maybe try to move up the food chain a bit, find herself someone who drinks from a bottle instead of a can and drives a thunderbird – shit at least he won’t be drinking it sugar… After all of that, her rent will be taken care of for a few more months while the 4th baby from the last mullet head is incubating… away… Ahh… gotta love those G.C. women… don’t ya… Hell No!!!

Keep them as far away fromme and honey, you should stay the hell away from all G.C.s… OR… you know what you will be doing the next 18 or so years…paying for it…and baby, there ain’t no box lunch that good…beer goggles or not…

Ciao Bella…. Sarah.. B

 Artist Gregory Hergert