I have been waiting WEEKS to introduce you to today's awesome WWW guest! Please welcome Anne Bardsley, the genius behind Anz World and author of the newly released book, "How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and Menopause." I met Anne last spring at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop and adored her instantly. To say that we connected is an understatement---I felt like I found my long lost twin sister! Not only is she a fellow Floridian, Anne is also the mother five children and a grandmother of three as well, so we have a LOT in common. I love her zany sense of humor and am thrilled that her book has been released. This collection of laugh-out-loud stories about every day life is totally relatable to me---in a fun, "been there, done that" sort of way. Do yourself a favor and order her book from Amazon----you'll love it!Please welcome this talented, HILARIOUS writer to Meno Mama's site today with lots of comment love! Thank you!
Your
Hottie-ness
I
really thought I'd lost it. I didn't feel hot anymore. I don't mean
hot flashes, I mean hot, like a sexy lady....a hottie. I used to be
hot. In my twenties men would ask me to date them or just go to their
apartment. After I had five children, and now three grandkids, they
stopped calling. My husband kept hanging up on them!
I
decided it was time to pass my old hottie crown to the younger babes.
This was not a happy moment for me. Although I’ve tried to lose my
baby weight, it has not gone as well as I’d hoped. My youngest is
thirty one and if I’d lost a pound for each birthday, I’d still
have my crown. Alas, that is not the case.
It’s
not just the menopausal pouch. It’s a combination of elephant ear
arms, a wrinkle a day arrival and memory loss. Even if I was a
hottie, I probably would forget and wear my granny panties daily. I
was going to start a novena to the patron saint of menopause, but I
couldn’t remember his name…or her name. Somebody up there knows.
I fell asleep praying to be a vixen. How shallow am I? I felt only a
tad guilty that I wasn’t praying for world peace. Even Miss America
contestants do that.
And
then it happened! A miracle! My prayers were answered. The very next
morning, I realized that I still have it! I grabbed my hottie crown
back so fast I almost got dizzy. What a relief to feel like my sexy
self again. I knew somewhere deep down I still had it. Maybe you are
like me and also wondering if you still have it. I'll share my test
with you.
Step
1- Get a five pound bag of mini-chocolate bars. They’re on the
bottom shelf with the other industrial size bags of candy. It’s
like a double blessing because you are exercising your arms just
putting it into your cart.
Step
2- Put on your favorite lingerie. Granny panties are prohibited for
this test. Prop yourself up in bed and get comfy. Fluff your pillows
and prepare.
Step
3- Remove six bars from the bag. Peel the wrappers off the chocolate.
Try not to lick the wrapper, please. That looks so unsexy and it
defeats your purpose. Delicately place the first bar between your
lips. Savor the chocolate as it melts slowly in your mouth. Do not
chomp. Savor. Continue until you have finished five bars.
Step
4- Place the last bar under the covers.
Step
5- Go to sleep and dream about how beautifully sexy you are. Do not
under any circumstance search for that bar under the covers. You will
contaminate the test area.
Step
6- In the morning, wake up slowly. There is no rush. Stretch, yawn
and stretch some more. Go to the bathroom, brush your teeth and wipe
the sleepy winks from your eyes.
Step
7- Gently lift the comforter from your bed and search for the last
chocolate bar. When you find it, gently scoop it up and feel the
texture. Do not be tempted to eat the chocolate. If the packet feels
soft and warm with a liquid texture, you have passed the hottie test.
Note:
It is always best to do this test several times. A false/ positive
result can occur.
I've
eaten fifteen pounds of chocolate bars proving my theory. I didn't
want to announce to the world that I am still Mrs. Hottiness until I
had confirmed all of the evidence. And now I can proclaim to the
world that for the past ninety nights, I have endured intense
physical testing and I have passed. Let me introduce myself....
Anne
Bardsley...
the
61 year old hottie with chocolate on her face, hips and thighs. It’s
a cross I have to bear.
To order Anne's book, click on the link:
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/ANNEBARDSLEY1
BLOG: http://anzworld.com
An excerpt from Anne's Book "How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and Menopause"
FLUFF AND STUFF
BIO:
Anne Bardsley is a humor writer, blogger and author of How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and Menopause. Over the years her work has appeared in several publications. Her work has also been featured on Erma Bombeck’s site and Better Writers After 50. More would be available if she was not so busy pondering ways to firm her thighs (without exercising). This uses a huge amount of her already limited brain cells. She barely survived raising five kids. They were all worth the labor pains in the long run and have given her wonderful grandchildren. Anne currently lives in St Petersburg Fl with her husband of thirty-six years and two spoiled cockatoos.
To order Anne's book, click on the link:
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/ANNEBARDSLEY1
BLOG: http://anzworld.com
An excerpt from Anne's Book "How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and Menopause"
FLUFF AND STUFF
I
forced my husband to watch a Hallmark movie with me last week. He
prefers
action movies, but he agreed. The movie was about a widower who was
heartbroken
after losing his wife. He visited her grave every day and left a
single
yellow
rose. I was mopping my tears as the movie ended. The violin music
just
made
me cry harder. Scott turned and said, “We need to think about this.
What
are
we going to do with our remains?” I offered him a tissue.
Scott
thought a minute, probably trying to collect his tears, and finally
said, “
I
want to be cremated. Make sure you get a nice urn. Then I want you to
rent a
small
plane and when the pilot flies low and slow over the Gulf of Mexico,
release
my ashes.”
My
problem with that plan is that I am not the best passenger in a small
plane.
When
Scott used to take me flying, he loved to take steep turns as I held
on,
leaning
in the opposite direction in pure fear. I actually believed that if I
leaned
far
enough, I could somehow level out the plane. It never worked. He also
loved
aerobatic
flying. I was so grateful that he didn’t mention the Pitts Special
aerobatic
plane when he described how I would release his mortal remains. The
thought
no sooner entered my mind, when he said, “I think I’d prefer
being in a
Pitts
Special doing a tail slide.”
Once
we had his plan established and I stopped crying, he asked, “What
shall I do with you?” His eyes looked sad. Neither of us enjoyed
talking about these
funeral
plans. “I’d prefer to be stuffed,” I told him as I blew my
nose.
He
shook his head and said, “What did you say?” I repeated, “I
want to be
stuffed.
I want you to find a taxidermist who will make me look marvelous. I’m
hoping
they’ll have some sort of silicone gel”.
“Why
in God’s name would I want to pose you? You’ll be dead!”
This
man is totally clueless! “If I die first and you bring women home,
I want
to
be looking like serious competition in the bedroom. You know that
facelift I
want?
Get me one with my life insurance money.” I’m hoping that by
the time I
die,
there will be scientific methods to keep me limber. I could be like a
female
Gumby.
He put his head in his hands. I said, “Seriously, you could move
me
from
room to room. Since I’ll just have new stuffing, I won’t be
heavy. If you’re
sitting
on the deck, just bring me out. Put a glass of wine in front of me
and party
on!”
I was feeling much better now. Death didn’t seem so final and sad.
I could
still
light up his life, so to speak, like a dim bulb.
A
few days later, Scott mentioned this idea to my brother- in- law,
John, and
he
suggested having a bag made to fit over my head. I was horrified!
Thank
goodness,
Scott said, “John, I can get her one of those feathered Mardi Gras
masks.
Anne loves bright colors.”
“Now
that is just disrespectful! I yelled. You are having too much fun
with my
future
manikin body. I am not a Mardi Gras kind of girl.”
The
more I think of this plan, the more ideas I come up with. He could
dress
me
to match the seasons and holidays. Since I’d be pliable, it would
be easy to
change
my outfits. I could even be my dream size four if they use less
stuffing! I
could
be a decoration on our front porch. I could be Mrs. Claus at
Christmas and
be
a witch at Halloween. The possibilities are endless! I always loved
the 4th
of
July.
Now I could finally fit into a red, white and blue bikini and I could
hold
sparklers.
He could even make some extra money renting me out for special
occasions.
It’s a shame my mother –in-law never got to see me this way. She
would
have liked me so much better.
Scott
always wondered what I’d look like with brown eyes. This would be
his
big
chance. He could purchase removable eyes on Amazon and a few wigs and
I
could
be the woman of his dreams. The after-life is looking pretty bright
now.
Scott
is calling me to come have a glass of wine with him on the deck now.
I
think
I’ll wait for him to come and carry me out. He’s going to need
the
practice!
Anne
K Bardsley
LOVE the hottie crown...and the book excerpt. I need to read this one! Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteJust Awesome. it’s Really Enjoyable Post. I Learned Many Knowledge From This Valuable Post. Thank you So Much for Sharing With us.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh... I am still hot... lol..
ReplyDeleteI will have to skip the chocolate bar test, suffice to say I figured this out without chocolate... otherwise my hips would be twice there size and frankly they are wide enough... lol
Good luck with the book, it sound very funny :)
Funny....and hot, too! ;-) This looks quite hilarious and I know just who to buy it for!
ReplyDeleteI'm heading out to buy chocolate bars - STAT!
ReplyDeleteI just want to go home and start the chocolate test RIGHT NOW.
ReplyDeleteI'm getting the Costco sized packages of chocolate bars. Lots to prove & improve!
ReplyDeleteOh. My. Goodness. I LOVE this woman! How have we not met before this?!
ReplyDeleteAnd I haunt the chocolate bar aisle. Surely we've at least made eye contact. I'm sure I would have noticed someone with the same tell-tale smudges that I carry . . .
I'm in for any test that involves chocolate! Very funny - thanks for sharing with us!
ReplyDeleteAt my age I don't think I could handle a hottie, not even one 61 years young.
ReplyDeleteHahahahaha! I knew I grabbed that huge bag of chocolate bars for something! But now my husband thinks I'm leaving skid marks on our sheets...oh well!
ReplyDeleteI knew I'd find a good excuse to buy a big bag of chocolate. Love that it's exercise too, picking it up to put in the cart... that kills two birds w/one stone. ;)
ReplyDeleteFUNNY! I am too OCD to put chocolate in the bed so I am going to have to find some other experimental model... ;-)
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing Anne's work! I can't say I eat chocolate in bed, but I do have it on a daily basis :)
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