Welcome to Ask Mama, for all the answers . . .

Rosalee Provenza, Mama in my mystery series, thinks she's the whole reason for Mama Does Time (Midnight Ink, 2008), and Mama Rides Shotgun (2009). She was sure her star couldn't shoot any higher after Mama Gets Hitched came out in 2010. But, sure enough, her head swelled to Hollywood diva size after 2011's Mama Sees Stars debuted with a red carpet party, complete with paparazzi. Now she's mixing it up with Mama Gets Trashed (September 2013). Don't tell Mama you read this note from me. In her mind, she sprung to life all on her own.
Author Deborah Sharp
PS: Mama has a way of taking over; but you'll find my own website nearly Rosalee-free.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Monster Gift?

Dear Mama,
I just found out my boyfriend plans to give me two tickets to the Monster Truck rally for Christmas this year. This comes after last year's gift (a gas grill) and the year before that (a circular saw). I've hinted and hinted and hinted that I'd be happier with a more feminine present (I'm sure that stupid saw cost more than a tiny diamond necklace would!) But so far, he hasn't taken the hint. What should I do?

Trucked Up

Dear Trucked,

Honey, you ought to be glad he's getting you any gifts at all. Husband No. 2 never got me one present in five years of marriage. That man was tighter than a wet boot. Dumb, too. If brains were blue ink, No. 2 couldn't dot an i
I can see your point, though. Any woman in her right mind would prefer jewelry to power tools. Even so, you're lucky your beau wants your company at the Monster Truck show. Maybe you should buy yourself a pretty pendant and wear it (with your earplugs) when y'all go to see the ultimate smackdown between Bigfoot and King Krunch.

Love, Mama

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Lying Down with Dogs

Dear Mama,

I'm about to pull my hair out by the roots.

My boyfriend's loser brother has been camped out on our living room couch for more than a month now. All he does is drink beer and watch wrestling and NASCAR on TV. I mean I like sports as much as the next gal, but the constant smackdowns and Vrrrrm-Vrrrrm and belching from the TV room is getting on my last nerve.
I want to tell my beau it's either his stupid brother or me, but I remember what happened when I made that threat about the dog. I had to crawl back home with my tail between my legs, and Cujo is still sleeping in our bed.
What should I do?

Sincerely, Third-class Citizen

Dear Third Class,

I say when you lie down with dogs, you better expect to get fleas!
How 'bout you get a place of your own? You can leave that loser brother and flea-bitten hound behind.
And if your beau wants to come visit, then it's on your terms, not his.

But, honestly, if he already chose his dog over you, it might be time to start looking for somebody new. Just make sure you ask first whether he has any pets. Maybe a hamster would be okay, since they don't take up too much room in bed.

Love, Mama

Monday, August 27, 2007

Christmas Lights, Yay or Nay?

Dear Mama,

everthing was jes fine in the trailer park until this hoochie mama moved in with her yappie little rat dog, and she sez it is wrong to have christmas lights up on yor porch all year. we have always done it an been 100% happy!!
Is it really wrong?
please help!

yor fan, Lettie Mae

Dear Lettie Mae,

Well, first let me thank you kindly for being a fan. I've always been popular in my little hometown of Himmarshee, but this Wide World of the Web is an awful big place. As for those lights, I say let 'em shine, shine, shine. After all, can't we always use a little more of the Christmas spirit?

My own seasonal chasing lights are strung up in the plumbago bush year-round. All the neighbors comment about how pretty they look.
Your real dilemma is that hoochie gal next door. Who does she think she is? Paris Hilton?
I'd watch my man around her. And if she gives you any more trouble, just threaten to turn your pit bull loose on her little yappy dog.
You do have a pit bull, right?

Love, Mama

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

That boy's got ticks in the brain!

Dear Mama,
I'm a big time TV correspondent, frequently dispatched to wars, hellholes, and other dangerous spots. I'm currently in Mexico, covering a hurricane. My wife's mad at me because I showed up on the national news this morning, driving around in a car during the storm as tree limbs whizzed by and electrical poles shattered amid showers of sparks.
She says I'm an insane adrenaline junkie who should be over this crap after twenty-some years. How can I get her to start speaking to me again?
The Colonel

Dear Colonel,
That must be one nutty army that would have you as an officer!
Have you had yourself checked for tick fever?
I say this 'cause I knew a boy once in Himmarshee who had it. It made him act all crazy. Like he climbed to the top of a corn silo once, just so he could pee off of it.
You better tell your poor wife to check herself for ticks, too. Anybody who'd stay married to you all that time surely has some kind of fever in the brain.
Maybe you can buy the two of you a pair of tick collars as a way of making up. Let me know if she ever starts talking to you again.

Love, Mama

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Don't Give it Away, honey!

Well, how 'bout this, folks? Somebody sent in a letter from the Wide World of the Web. Didn't know they even had the Web in little dinky towns like this fella's.
Here it is:
Dear Mama,
I enjoy reading your advice, so pay no attention to your bossy daughter Mace when she says you talk too much. You're a classic.
Please help me with this problem: My high-school classmate works in a creamery, and he's up for a promotion to assistant manager on weekendnights, butI fear his dating life is going to hurt him. He's dating a woman who loves to drink. They sit together on the picnic table in front of my hometown bar on Main Street, kissing and touching. I've tried to get him to stop- to rent a room, so to speak -but they can't stop.
I'm worried the creamery won't like future management acting up like this in public.
What I should tell him?
Signed, Concerned Pal

Dear Concerned,
Your friend sounds like your average red-blooded American male. The problem's the girlfriend, kissing and fondling in public. Hasn't that gal ever heard that a man won't buy the cow when he can get the milk for free? Considering her man works in a creamery, you'd think she'd know that.
Have her write to Ask Mama. I'll set her straight on playing hard to get. You learn a thing or two on men after you've been married four times, I can tell you that.

Love, Mama

I'm Here to Help

Well, first of all, Howdy, y'all!
I can hardly believe I'm handing out advice to the World Wide Web! I've barely been out of Himmarshee, which is just a little speck of a spot north of Lake Okeechobee in the Florida wilds.
My middle daughter, Mace, says not to be too wordy, that people who go on the Web are real busy. So, l'll try to keep it short. Let's move on to our first troubled soul:

Dear Mama,
I don't know what to do. My boyfriend keeps promising to shape up and do right, but the next thing I know, he's hanging out 'til all hours drinking with his no-account friends and taking up with that tramp who lives two trailers over. Should I dump him?
Sincerely, Perplexed

Perplexed, you've got to ask yourself two things: Am I better off with or without him? And, if I'm better off with him, can I take that tramp who lives two trailers over?
Nah, I'm just kidding, honey. It sounds like that boyfriend doesn't respect you. If I was you, I'd dump that loser like a load of manure at the Livestock Auction. You can sure do better!

Love, Mama

See? There's nothing to it. Now, get out your blog pens and papers and send me some letters. I love to give advice (This is Mace speaking: Does she ever).

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