Ask Mama

Mama Takes Manhattan

2011-12-29T20:25:00.007-05:00

Howdy, y'all! This blogger spot had me locked out for a while, but I'm back now. Something about passwords and authentication. My middle daughter Mace finally took care of it. I told her to tell those folks down at the Hotmail factory I'm a Florida native, and as authentic as they come. ''Tell them I resent the implication,'' I told Mace. She said the tech support people could not give one -- or zero -- about what I do or do not resent.

Anyhoo, you may have heard the big news: That snippy author Deborah Sharp made a visit this week to the Today Show in New York City. As much as it pains me to say it, she didn't take my fashion advice ... and it turned out all right. I was lobbying pretty hard for her to wear something in the sherbet-colored spectrum. Lord knows that palette's worked for me. But she listened instead to some salesgirl at the Dillard's in Fort Lauderdale. It's no surprise our Ms. Fancy Pants Author would choose a swanky department store over Himmarshee's very own Home on the Range Feed Store and Clothing Emporium, is it?

Anyway, here's a picture Mace snapped off the TV of her in that pretty royal blue sweater:

I'm big enough to admit it works. Now that her hair's going gray, that wintry blue is a fine color choice. But don't get me started on how I feel about her opting for the natural look, hair-wise. Betty Taylor, the owner of Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor, could take 10 years off her look if she'd just sit down for a little highlight and tint.

Did you happen to see her interview? When that nice Savannah Guthrie asked her how many times I'd been married, she made a big show of counting out all five times on her fingers. I've never thought someone else's unfortunate marital history should be the source of a cheap joke, have you?

You can watch a clip of Ms. Fancy Pants on TV by clicking here. Maybe if she ever gets invited back up to New York City, she'll ask me along for the interview. After all, I'm only the one who's lived the stories she writes down in those books of hers. Not that I'm bitter, understand. Bitterness is just as unbecoming as failing to give credit where it's due. That's a little bit of advice, courtesy of Mama. Hopefully, it won't fall on deaf ears.

Mama's Big Ol' Blog Tour

2011-09-08T22:53:00.004-04:00

Hi, there ... Snippy Author here. Mama's invited me here to her blog because somebody's got to help me remember where I'm supposed to be guest-blogging (it's clear I haven't remembered to blog here, at Ask Mama, for a good little while!)

Today is the official release date of MAMA SEES STARS, the fourth book in my funny, Southern-fried Mace Bauer Mystery series. All the kids are doing blog tours, so I thought I'd try one, too. But I'm old, and kind of lazy ... so not only am I not making that many stops, I've also screwed up the scheduling through failure to plan and memory lapses.

Hence, I have lots of days with no stops, and a few days with too many stops. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm putting a list here of where I'm supposed to be, and what I'm supposed to write about (either as the fictional Mama character or the relatively real me). I think I can remember my way back to Ask Mama to check from time to time to see if A, I'm who I thought I was, and B, I'm at the tour stop where I'm supposed to be.

Do check out some of the wonderful bloggers so graciously hosting me:

MAMA SEES STARS Big Ol' Blog Tour, Sept-Oct 2011

Sept. 8, Launch Date:
Mama on Aromatherapy: Killer Crafts and Crafty Killers

Interview with Gail Shepherd on her blog about writing, PARADOXY

Profile by Jackie Minniti, Fabulous Florida Writers

Sept 9:

A Day in the Life of Mama, at the blog of super reader Dru Ann Love.

Bling My Boa, at the Midnight Ink Writers' Blog, Inkspot

Sept. 12:

Five Great Public Speaking Tips for Writers, at Elizabeth Craig's terrific blog, Mystery Writing is Murder

Sept. 15:

Guest at Barnes and Noble's online Mystery Book Club. Moderator: Becke Davis

Sept. 23:

''Watch for Falling Logophiles,'' at Cozy Chicks.

Oct. 13:

Guest Blogger at Meanderings and Muses, with the fabulous Kay Barley.

Oct. 23:

Sweeeeet!, Deborah on Movie Candy at Mystery Lovers Kitchen

Oct. 31:

Mama's Horrifying Halloween at Killer Characters

Dress for the Weather

2011-07-09T11:38:00.004-04:00

I thought I'd sit down and jot a few words, since the rain has all but spoiled going outside today. It's so gloomy and overcast in Himmarshee, Fla. The only living creatures who aren't sick to death of this weather are the dabbling ducks and the gators.

When the day is this gray, I like to cheer things up by dressing in lots of color. If you've read anything about me in one of those mystery books Ms. Author writes, you already know I like anything in shades of sherbet. I've got my sherbet-colored pantsuits, of course, but I've also got slickers and boots and rain hats in every hue in the ice-cream rainbow. I've been on the look-out for a cute raincoat for my sweet Pomeranian, Teensy. Maybe something like what the cat's wearing in that picture, above? I just know Teensy could rock that little cloak, but it'd have to be in lime-sherbet green or raspberry, to match my foul-weather gear. You let me know if you see anything, hear? Teensy wears an XXXXSmall. My new husband, ''Big Sal'' Provenza, on the other hand, wears an XXXXLarge. Not that I'd ever get that man into a sherbet-colored rain cloak.

Well, thanks for letting me bend your ear for a moment or two on this dreary day. If it was already September, I could sit down with a copy of MAMA SEES STARS. I like to take out my red pen and mark up all the parts of my story Ms. Smarty Pants got wrong. But the book won't be out until then, so I have to find something else to do in the meantime.

Tell me, what do you do to cheer yourself up on nasty days?

Love, Mama

Too Much or Just Enough?

2011-04-12T16:40:00.004-04:00

I never thought I'd see the day. That know-it-all author, Deborah Sharp, has come to me for fashion advice. Can you believe it?

She wants to know whether she should bring along the lovely ''Mama veil'' when she goes to Malice Domestic, a big convention for fans of mystery books. It's in Maryland, right outside Washington, DC, and she'll be there from April 30 to May 1.

I told her, Absolutely! Pack up that bridal vision and turn some heads! My mama taught me to ALWAYS make an entrance, and believe me, with that veil Miss Sharp will certainly make an entrance in the halls of Malice.

I hear she's been wearing it at some of the signings she's been doing for MAMA GETS HITCHED. I say ''hear'' because she's never seen fit to invite me to a single signing, even though every one of her blasted books is based on something that happened to ME. She says the veil is modeled after the one I wore when I married Big Sal Provenza last summer ... but then she tells folks at her signings that it looks like a prehistoric wedding bird flew over and plopped a five-pound turd of tulle and fake flowers right on top of her head. Now, I ask you, is that any way for Miss Author to talk about the fashion sense of her literary muse?

Anyhoo ... she's all worried that people will think she's just looking for attention at Malice Domestic. She's afraid they'll stare. I told her, "Honey, there's nothing wrong with a little attention and admiration. Lord knows I'm used to it!''

I promised to put the question to my faithful readers. So, here it is ... The Mama Veil: Too much or Just enough?

Mama's Plumb Web Crazy

2011-04-04T12:19:00.002-04:00

Well, y'all, this Internet thing is about to pluck my last nerve.

Mace and I have been knocking ourselves out to see if we can't get my little advice column and myriad musings on the Wide World of the Web to ''feed'' over to a ''page'' that snippy author Deborah Sharp set up over at a place called ''Amazon.'' I'm putting those special quote marks around the things I don't really understand in that last sentence. The only feed we're familiar with here in Himmarshee is for chickens, hogs and cattle. You can walk right up to the counter at Home on the Range Feed Store and Clothing Emporium and ask for it by name.

Easy, breezy, right? Let me tell you, visiting the nice folks at Home on the Range is nothing like trying to get something done on the Internet.

Nonetheless, we're going to keep on trying. Well, if I'm honest, I'd have to say my daughter Mace is going to keep on trying. I myself am enjoying a glass of sweet pink wine. Ahh, that's good! Another couple of these, and I won't care where in the world my ''post'' ''feeds'' to.

But Mace is working awful hard to get it to work. Please do let me know if my latest musing ever shows up at the Amazon shop, would you?

My Stars & Garters!!

2011-03-30T18:39:00.006-04:00

I'm absolutely in a dither, y'all! I need some advice, right quick.

What should I wear for my turn on the red carpet when MAMA SEES STARS comes out in September? (You can get a sneak peek at the book right here. Somebody pasted it out there on the internet, right onto the Wide World of the Web. )

It's still hot as Hades in Himmarshee in September. So, whatever I wear can't show sweat .... er, ''dew.'' I know you've heard the saying: Horses sweat; men perspire; ladies dew.

Well, honey, the ''dew'' is running like a river in middle Florida in September. You're lucky if you make it from your air-conditioned house to your air-conditioned car without sopping wet stains as big as dinner plates under your armpits and your pantyhose all soggy and stuck in spots you didn't even know you had. I don't mean to get personal, but I'm just sayin.'

So, help me out, won't you? What's cool, comfortable, appropriate red-carpet garb for a Southern gal of a certain age? I won't mention the specific number, because you'd never believe it. Everybody tells me I look 10 years younger than I am. I know I look 10 times better than that fancy author, Deborah Sharp. She's sure to be there on the red carpet, too, taking all the credit as usual. But this one is purely my story. It's all about how I got a part when the film crew came to shoot in Himmarshee. It was so exciting!

Of course, there was that murder and all. Still, I've heard my scene in the movie they made has all the hallmarks of a Hollywood legend. That's why the pressure is on to pick the perfect outfit, y'all. Mama Sees Stars might just be my ticket to super-stardom.

Snippy Author Stealing My Stories ... Again

2011-03-04T14:48:00.005-05:00

Howdy, y'all ... she's done it again. Months and months and months go by without a single word from that snippy author, Deborah Sharp. And then my middle daughter Mace goes onto the Face Book and finds that she has another book coming out soon. Well, la-di-da.

Anybody want to take a guess about whose story she's stolen again? That's right. Mine. Doesn't that gal have any ideas from her OWN life?

As you can see from picture to the left, the new book is called MAMA SEES STARS; it'll be out in October. If it was up to me, we'd call it MAMA BECOMES A STAR, since that's how the whole thing went down when a Hollywood movie company came to film in little Himmarshee. But, as usual, no one asked me. I'll have to admit, Ms. Sharp's publisher has done a bang-up job with the new cover. Though there might be a few too many bullet holes in that movie theater marquee. There weren't that many people who got shot.

Anyhoo, just wanted to say a few words here to update everybody on the latest way that Ms. Smarty Pants has inserted herself into my life. I haven't been getting onto the computer like I used to, because I've been so busy these last few months, being a newlywed and all. Believe me, y'all, it doesn't get any easier just because I've skipped down the bridal path a time or two before (OK, a time or four before). I'm going to try to make more time for the Wide World of the Web, though, because I want everybody to know who's really living these tales while she's out there taking all the credit.

I hear she's at Sleuthfest, some big mystery conference, this weekend. I also hear she's wearing some bright colors for her panels ... a turquoise jacket, and one in pink. Now, I wonder where Ms. Dressed in Black got THAT idea? That's right: From me! You may remember I'm a aromatherapist and consultant at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow, where I compile seasonal color charts and tell all the gals how they can improve their looks and their moods by dressing in cheerful colors. Maybe Ms. Author is finally catching on. I'll keep you posted.

Snippy Author Sees Stars

2010-08-25T12:28:00.005-04:00

Well, I have to say .... Ms. Deborah Sharp did not embarrass herself when she went on the Today show on Aug. 24 to talk about my latest story, MAMA GETS HITCHED.

Of course, BLACK is not a fashion choice I'd make for a pantsuit. Sherbet colors are so much cheerier. Not to mention, my little Pomeranian, Teensy, sheds like a blizzard, so I never wear dark colors. I was encouraged to see her in a little lipstick, though. Wonder if it was Apricot Ice, my favorite shade?

Anyhoo ... aside from the fact she never mentioned my name, which, by the way is now Rosalee Provenza, since Sal and I tied the knot, Ms. Author did all right for herself. If you missed it, you can watch the Today Show link here

And if you happen to see Ms. Author, tell her not to get too big for her britches. After all, there wouldn't be any stories for her to write without Mama! The TV folks even made my latest tale one of their ''Hot Summer Reads.''

Today Comes A'Callin!'

2010-07-29T18:04:00.002-04:00

Well, y'all ... Big news! That snippy author is going on the NBC Today show to talk about me and my Wedding of the Century.

Aug. 24, sometime between the hours of 7-10 AM. No word yet on which morning personality will do the interview.

Lord have mercy, I hope she finds something nice to wear. And, please, would someone tell her to make sure those makeup folks put a little something on that shiny skin of hers? Last time, her forehead gleamed like the high beams on a Monster Truck once those TV lights hit it.

Love,
Mama

Mama Gets Interviewed!

2010-06-30T08:44:00.003-04:00

Hey, everybody!

I finally got to have my say in a real interview with another famous mama from literature, Anna Belle Watson. If you haven't heard of her yet, she's a real pistol. We had a great time sitting down and talking about our headstrong daughters, my mystery-solving Mace, and her Sophie Mae Reynolds.

We also got to bi ... er, complain, about our authors, and that's always fun. You can check out our little chat at Mystery Gal today (that snippy author's blog).

Cheers,
Mama

That Lazy Author FINALLY Sent My Newsletter

2010-06-21T16:11:00.003-04:00

Well, y'all, we had to wait all year, but Ms. Deborah Sharp FINALLY got off her duff and made me a newsletter. I wouldn't have done it exactly the same way, understand, but she's still learning about the Wide World of the Web and all.

Take a gander, and let me know what you think:

Summer 2010: Mama Gets Hitched!

Love,
Mama

My Wedding's Going to the Dogs

2010-06-20T17:05:00.006-04:00

Dear Mama,

I don't know where else to turn. I'm getting married soon, and my groom is getting on my last nerve. I want everything to be perfect, but he's thisclose to ruining my Special Day.

Mama, he wants his Rottweiler in the bridal party. I've tried to tell him this is just too tacky for words, but he won't budge. He says it's the only request he has, and that if I don't honor it, it's a bad omen for our married life together.

First of all, Bear smells like he's been rolling in a dead skunk. Second, that dog's breath will clear out the whole front pew of the church, both the bride's side and the groom's. Third, he can't distinguish between a female dog and a female's leg, if you get my drift. He'll jump on anything that moves, and hump it harder than a piston engine.

I've been having nightmares, seeing our sacred ceremony ruined as Bear gets busy with a bridesmaid's thigh, or the bustle on my gown. The image is just too awful for words. Should I make this a deal-breaker, Mama?

Signed, Mustn't Love Dogs

Dear Musn't,

I'm a little bit biased on this particular topic. My middle daughter Mace and I went round 'n' round on the question of including my pet Pomeranian, Teensy, in my wedding. I just knew that dog would be adorable as the ring-bearer, in his little satin vest and doggy top hat. Mace, always a kill-joy, argued that animals have no place in a wedding.

I suspect she just didn't want the attention diverted from her in that beautiful bridesmaid gown. Don't believe Mace for a minute when she says she hated the gown, in a becoming shade of lime sherbet green, along with a matching ruffled parasol and drawstring purse. Everyone in Himmarshee, Fla., said she and her two sisters looked stunning in their ringlet curls and Scarlett O'Hara, sherbet-colored dresses.

Well, at least they looked stunning until the ''incident,'' when the ruckus started and everyone had to hit the floor.

But I digress. I won the argument with Mace (as I usually do). Teensy prancing down the aisle with Sal's and my wedding rings was one of the cutest moments ever, matrimonially speaking. Of course it didn't hurt to have the dog on hand, considering what happened at the reception.

Oh, you can read all about it in MAMA GETS HITCHED.

So, I say let Bear be in your wedding. It'll make your groom happy, and it won't kill you to let him win this argument (That'll change once you're married, hon). Just to be safe, hide a can of Halt! in your bouquet. If Bear tries to get ''busy,'' just give him a little spritz.

Love,
Mama

Gossip Girl

2010-04-30T20:13:00.002-04:00

Dear Mama,

I'm at a big mystery novel convention outside Washington, D.C., and I have a problem. It involves you. Suppose I heard something about you -- something negative. Would you want to know? Or, is gossip best left unrepeated?

Just let me say that I don't for a minute believe this woman who's going around claiming how well she knows you. I mean, really. She says you did a stint in jail. You? A Himmarshee, Fla, Sunday School teacher, in the slammer? And multiple marriages? I mean who'd write into a column for advice on love from a woman who'd already tied the sacred knot of matrimony FOUR times???

I won't even mention what she's telling everybody here about your impending nuptials. (Wedding No. 5. Really?) Suffice to say a Gone-With-the-Wind themed wedding is a bit over-the-top, especially with those Scarlett O'Hara gowns and parasols, and a Pomeranian ring-bearer in a little doggy top hat. Not to mention the murder in the kitchen at the VFW.

Well, I won't tell you the very worst of what she says about you. Please say it's not true, Mama. How can you hand out advice when your own life is in such an uproar?

Sincerely,

A Mystery Fan at Malice Domestic
Arlington, Va.

Dear Mystery Fan,

Let me guess: You ran into that snippy author, Deborah Sharp. Don't believe a word that woman says. She's jealous, is all. She wouldn't even have a career without me. But does she give me a lick of credit?

No, she does not.

I won't even respond to those outlandish claims of hers. You do know Miss Smarty Pants Sharp makes up things for a living, don't you? Take everything she says about me with a grain ... no, a whole box .... of salt.

As for those Scarlett bridesmaid gowns . . .honey you'd have to see how beautiful my three girls looked before you said a word against them. When Betty did their hair in ringlet curls at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor . . . well, that was just the crowning touch. Everybody in Himmarshee said so.

You go find that author gal and tell her to quit spreading gossip about me. There is such a thing as slander. You just remind her my nephew Henry is Himmarshee's top attorney. (I know we only have the two, but still.)

Love,

Mama

We've Got a Winner!

2010-04-22T23:26:00.003-04:00

I never go back on my word, y'all. That's why I've let Miss Author take over my space one more time. Here's her announcement.

Those who commented on author Deborah Sharp's guest post April 20 at POWERED BY BOOKS were entered in a drawing. Molly Weston's name was picked to win a signed copy of MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN (Midnight Ink, 2009). Congratulations, Molly!

I second that, Molly. Hope you like MY story.
Sincerely, Mama

Honey, You're too Pushy!

2010-04-19T14:42:00.004-04:00

Well, the shoe's on the other foot again, y'all. I need your advice, and fast.

I know this author, let's say her name is Deborah S., and she is just the pushiest thing ever. A little while back, she took over this advice column of mine, here on the Wide World of the Web. Normally, I address the pressing concerns of folks needing help with all sorts of problems. But there she was, yammering on and on about some award or the other. She put up a bunch of pictures (The Monkees??), and made up all sorts of lies. Honestly, I stopped reading after the first three or four paragraphs. That poor gal is just plain boring without the wonderful source material provided to her by a certain matriarch from Himmarshee, Fla.

Anyhoo, she's at it again. Now she wants this space to announce that she's running a contest on April 20 over at the blog of an author friend by the name of Deb Baker . (That raises another question. Do all these author gals have the same name?) Deborah S. wanted me to let you know that all you have to do is comment on her post over at Powered by Books, and you'll be entered in a drawing to win a copy of MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN. She's pushed her way back AGAIN into announcing the winner here, on MY spot, on April 23.

Well, I'll go along, since I happen to know that book is a rip-roaring mystery starring yours truly. But somebody tell me, please, how do I get this pushy author out of my life? Y'all, she's just about to pluck my last nerve! I'd appreciate any advice you can offer, short of committing murder myself . . . Help!

Signed,
Mama

Too Close to His Mama

2010-03-01T08:43:00.008-05:00

Well, finally!

I put out the word a while back that what with planning my own wedding and all, I'd be glad to take your ''wed-iquette'' questions. I just got my first letter, and I sure have something to say:

Dear Mama,

I'm supposed to get married next summer, but I'm having second thoughts. His mother wants to be involved, which is all fine and good, but she wants to be a little too involved, in my opinion. For example:

Instead of me walking down the aisle with my dad, she wants to walk down the aisle with my fiance, Norman. She wants to give him away.

She wants my bridesmaids to wear this putrid puce color, because that's the color she looks good in. She's already chosen her mother-of-the-groom dress in the same shade, and she wants all the flower arrangements to play off her dress.

We're buying things for the home we'll share, and his mother insists that this clunky wooden rocking chair come with us. My tastes run more to elegant modern furniture. The chair looks like something my great grandma would have stored in the attic.

Finally, I want a home with a nice master bath and big whirlpool tub. But Norman's mother insists a shower will do just fine, and won't take up as much space.

The worst part is, he wants to spend all his time with her, and he never stands up for me. I tell you, it cuts like a knife when he takes her side against me. Do you think I should go ahead with this wedding, Mama?

Signed, Concerned

Dear Concerned,

I have four words for you, darlin.' Rent Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho.

I'm all for children showing respect to their mamas (Mace falls a little short sometimes, to be honest). But your man is waaaaay too close to Mama. That's just going to bring you heartache, honey, or maybe something worse. Forget the rental hall deposit and run for the hills.

If you decide to not take my advice, and marry anyway .... well, just make sure you don't settle for the bathroom with that little shower.

Love,
Mama

Which Are the Lies?

2010-02-28T19:44:00.004-05:00

Hey, y'all ...

As promised, I'm making Miss Fancy Pants Author Deborah Sharp fess up today as to what's the truth and what's pure fiction from the claims she made (below) for that Bald Faced Liar Award. I will tell you one thing: Picturing her on that nude beach in her birthday suit on her 50th is enough to ruin my dinner.

Sincerely, Mama

1. I worked as a street mime in Paris the summer after high school. (False ... but it would have been a good fit, since I can't SPEAK French. )

2. I went, sans swimsuit, to a nude beach on my 50th birthday. (True, and I froze. Even though the beach is in Miami, my birthday is in January.)

3. I was a DJ at my college radio station and my stage name was Sexy Sadie. (False)

4. I was a finalist to be a contestant on the first season of ''Survivor.'' (So False)

5. I was an Egyptian queen during one past life; a witch at the Salem trials in another. (False, but would be cool, no? )

6. I won a Hot Bod bikini contest during college Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale. (True. It involved the ingestion of several Rum Runners and a crocheted string bikini. 'Nuff said. )

7. I was selected to be the first journalist in space before NASA's funding dried up. (False)

8. I was arrested for violating a restraining order in a dust-up with the Monkees' Davy Jones. (False, but I did doodle Davy's name on my book covers, convinced we'd marry someday ... Daydream Believer, indeed. )

Congrats to Dru Ann Love, Sue Ann Jaffarian, and Glen Allison, who each guessed correctly on one out of my two truths. Thanks, too, to Alan, Julia, Deb and Victoria for playing along.

Get Friendly, Y'all

2010-02-25T23:18:00.004-05:00

Well, I just tallied up the friends that snippy author has on her Facebooks. I'm no math genius, but even I can see she's way ahead of me.

How is it that the most popular person in Himmarshee, Fla., only has 47 Internote friends? I think that smart-aleck Deborah Sharp has done something to sabotage me. I bet she crossed the wires on the Wide World of the Web so that when people try to sign up to be Friends of Mama, they wind up on her page instead.

It's just not fair, y'all. I'm nicer than she is, and I'm a more interesting person, too. I was the head cheerleader AND homecoming queen at Himmarshee High back in .... well, a few years back. It's not braggin' if it's fact! What'd she ever do in high school? Dressed like a hippie and hung out at Surf Beach, that's what. I'm surprised any college would have her.

I'm ready to take things into my own hand. You know how that Ellen De-Something gal on TV has her own flag (and I'm not talking about the Rainbow Flag). Here's what it looks like:

Well, if Ellen can do it, I can too. I intend to conquer Ms. Sharp with a whole slew of new friends on Facebooks. So spread the word. You can sign up here, at Friends of Mama.

I'm declaring war, y'all. It's going to be just like Ellen's quest for world domination. Except all I want is 10 times as many friends as that unnamed author has.

Flattered or Insulted?

2010-02-12T12:12:00.010-05:00

Well, y'all ... I don't know whether to take this as a compliment or a dig. Why don't you tell me?

Seems that glory-hogging Deborah Sharp has grabbed another award, created by Lesa Holstein at Lesa's Book Critiques :

Creative Writer ... sounds nice, right? But look what's crossed out: Bald Faced Liar. And Deborah's friend, Sue Ann Jaffarian, nominated this little advice column of mine, not Miss Fancy Pants' boring old author blog, Mystery Gal.

So, does that make Deborah or me the liar? And, do I owe Sue Ann a thank-you?

Well, I'll play along. No one can call Mama a bad sport. Here are the rules:

1.Thank the person who gave this to you. Hmm, thanks (?), Sue Ann.

2.Copy the logo and place it on your blog. Done

3.Link to the person who nominated you. See #1 above.

4.Tell us up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth. Since the Bible tells us to always be truthful, I'm letting Deborah take over here (Lying doesn't seem to bother Miss Fancy Author):

1. I worked as a street mime in Paris the summer after high school.
2. I went, sans swimsuit, to a nude beach on my 50th birthday.
3. I was a DJ at my college radio station and my stage name was Sexy Sadie.
4. I was a finalist to be a contestant on the first season of ''Survivor.''
5. I was an Egyptian queen during one past life; a witch at the Salem trials in another.
6. I won a Hot Bod bikini contest during college Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale.
7. I was selected to be the first journalist in space before NASA's funding dried up.
8. I was arrested for violating a restraining order in a dust-up with the Monkees' Davy Jones.

5. Allow your readers to guess which one or more are true. Go for it, y'all.

6. Nominate seven "Creative Writers" who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies.

Victoria Allman : Following My Stomach
Alan Williamson : Unauthorized Insights
Glen Allison : Fat, Bald and Studly
Julia Buckley : Mysterious Musings
Deb Baker : Inside Looking Out
Pamela James and Terri Parsons : Mayhem & Magic
Mike Befeler : Author of ''Geezer Lit'' mysteries

7. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate. Done, see bloggers above.

8. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them. All set.

Okay, y'all ... I'll ask Fancy Pants Deborah to announce here two weeks from today which of her statements above are whoppers.

Sincerely,
Mama

Wedding Etiquette: What to do with a Dead Caterer

2010-02-10T11:34:00.002-05:00

Well, hey y'all! Long time no see. Sal and I are finally back from our honeymoon in Branson, Missouri, with a side-trip to the casinos in Gulfport, Mississippi. Sal rolled snake-eyes, but I had a good night at the nickel slots.

While I was gone, the new book cover arrived for my next story, MAMA GETS HITCHED. (It doesn't come out 'til July, but you can jump the gun and order it now before they run out!) You'd think that snippy author, Deborah Sharp, might have asked for my input before the publisher went ahead and put the cover together . . . but, no. She's all about being the boss and grabbing all the glory, even though she just writes down what I actually live. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have had those Slim Jims and pickled eggs on the bar. I did NOT serve pickled eggs at my wedding!

Getting around to my point: I've just been through the whole wedding thing, so I'm advertising myself as an expert now. I've always gotten letters asking for advice on love, fashion, and family feuds. But now y'all can write in with wedding questions, too.

I mean once you start off your nuptials with a murdered caterer, there's not a whole lot that can throw you. Looking back, I might not have had my Pomeranian, Teensy, as the ring bearer, considering what happened .... but you can read all about it in MAMA GETS HITCHED (Midnight Ink, July 2010).

Now, send in those letters, y'all!

If Only BUBBA Got Run Over by a Reindeer

2009-12-10T08:24:00.004-05:00

Dear Mama, Here it is almost Christmas, and I still don't know what to do about my husband's drunken uncle, Bubba. He's managed to ruin every holiday dinner his family has ever had. This is my first year hosting at our home, and I flat-out do not want that sorry loser at my dinner table.

It'd be one thing if the man was a cheerful drunk. But he gets meaner than a rattlesnake with every swallow, and just as likely to strike. Last year, he told Donnie's cousin Toya she ought to lose some of her excess baby weight, and the only way to do it was to quit stuffing her face like she was still eating for two. PS: Toya was never pregnant.

When her boyfriend stood up to defend her, Bubba knocked him into the just-carved turkey. When the poor boy hit the floor, he brought down the bird and three side dishes. Donnie's mama was picking giblets and creamed corn out of her shag carpet for a week after. Should Bubba be banned, Mama?

Sincerely,
Doesn't Like Drunks

Dear Doesn't,

Honey, I have been there, done that. Husband No. 2 was an awful drinker, and three of his brothers were alkies, too. When those four got together, it was like backsliders' night at the Halfway House. One Fourth of July, those mo-rons brought two cases of fireworks to set off. I'm here to tell you Jack Daniels and explosives do not make a good match.

No. 2's youngest brother blew off his right thumb. After the ambulance took him away, the oldest two got into a fight about whose fault it was. One pulled out a gun and started shooting. Everybody dove for cover, including that sourpuss Ida, who nearly fractured a hip trying to hide under the picnic table.

So, my answer is yes, lock your door and hide the key. Tell Bubba he's banned from your family table until he takes those 12 Steps. Of course, that's no reason the rest of y'all can't enjoy a little nip of holiday cheer. I always say the worst parties come down to either too much liquor or not enough. Believe me, a little glass of pink wine is about the only thing that makes my sister-in-law Ida tolerable.

Love,
Mama

What Goes Best with the Red Carpet?

2009-09-15T14:48:00.004-04:00

Oh my stars, y'all! I'm getting an award!!!!

Somebody on this Wide World of the Web has decided my little advice column is one of the Top 100 Mystery Novel Blogs. Check out the logo on the upper right hand portion of this page. That makes it official!

I'm pretty sure they meant the Top 10, but I'm not going to quibble .... I'm sure before the red carpet ceremony in Hollywood, they'll get all the figures straightened out. I bet the same accounting firm that handles the votes for the Academy Awards is going to tally up our votes, too, to see who's No. 1.

But enough of this boring talk about math. What in the world am I going to wear? Now, here's where I can use y'all's help. Being the best-dressed woman in Himmarshee, Fla., is one thing. But Hollywood? That's a whole 'nother universe. I do not want to end up as a red-carpet fashion victim, like that poor gal from Iceland who draped the swan across her neck and called it a dress. Here's a picture, in case you don't remember (though, honestly, how could you forget?)

I just hope when I'm up there at the podium, accepting my award for the Top Blog on the whole Wide World of the Web, that they don't let that rapper fellow, Kenny West, anywhere near the stage. Did y'all see the way he grabbed the microphone away from that sweet Taylor Swift the other night? Poor girl looked like she plucked the biscuit with the hair out of the bread basket.

All I can say is thank goodness Beyonce's mama taught her some manners. I got a tear in my eye when Beyonce's turn came at the podium, and she called Taylor up to have her say. And I sure did like that red dress Beyonce had on, too. Hey, if any of y'all happen to see her, tell Beyonce to drop me a line at Ask Mama. The high heel is on the other foot. I could sure use some of her advice on award ceremony fashion do's. This is my moment on the red carpet, and I do not intend to be a fashion don't.

(Note to Mace: Honey, have those Hollywood people called yet? I do not understand why they're waiting 'til the last minute to iron out the details of when and where I'm getting my worldwide award).

Somebody Needs a Good Slappin'

2009-08-17T08:45:00.005-04:00

Well, hello friends! I'm not that great on the computer, and I don't talk directly too much to all my readers. But listen, y'all, somebody is going to have to speak to that author gal, Deborah Sharp.

She's supposed to be working on my fourth story -- MAMA SEES STARS. It's all about how a Hollywood movie company comes to Himmarshee, and I get myself a speaking part. There was a spot of trouble over a murder, and a couple of near misses, too ... but I absolutely nailed (that's how the Hollywood actors say it: Nailed) my role as Ruby, a beautiful dancehall gal. You can ask anybody. And wait until you see me in Ruby's red dress. I don't look a day over 50. (Mace: erase that 50 to say 40, would you honey?)

Anyhoo, this is the problem: Miss Fancy Pants Author is not working on my latest story. Oh, no. Says she's too busy promoting the first two books. Oh, she had to take off time from writing about me to go all the way to New York City and be on TV. Maybe you saw her on the Today Show? That Natalie Morales is cute as a button, but Miss Too-Big-for-her-Britches barely mentioned ME. She's been flying off to Chicago, then to something called Killer Nashville (I'd like to kill something, and it ain't Nashville!), and then she's going to Vero Beach, and then north to Indianapolis.

And, 'promoting??' Hons, my stories sell themselves. That's how good they are. She makes it sound like she's having to coerce the Baptists to serve beer in their fellowship hall.

I want y'all to show up at one of them signings or talks or panels or whatever it is she has scheduled and give Miss Big-time a talking-to. I wouldn't even mind if you speak forcefully, if you get my drift. I've always thought she could stand to have a little sense slapped upside her head.

You tell her she better get back to work on STARS. There are thousands upon thousands of people (well, a hundred or two, at least) on the edge of their seats to see what's gonna happen next in Mama's life. You tell her authors are a dime a dozen, but there's only one Mama. And since that's me, Mama, I just might find me another scribbler to finish up properly what Litte Missy started on MAMA SEES STARS.

(Mace, you'll be sure to fix that typo about looking 50 before you mail this to the Wide World of the Web, won't you?)

Would you believe: Iguana Urine a Form of Welcome?

2009-08-01T10:33:00.007-04:00

Dear Mama,
An iguana just let loose on my mother-in-law. Maybe you heard the scream all the way up in Himmarshee? She was relaxing in the shade of a palm tree on the dock behind our house, when all of a sudden: SPLASH. This was a BIG iguana, so it was a veritable tsunami of reptile pee rolling down from the palm fronds.

I tried to tell her this is life in south Florida ... a sweet manatee and calf meander by in the river one moment, a river of iguana ick rains down the next.

She's convinced, however, I somehow arranged for the iguana to be positioned high in the branches of the palm tree, right over the lawn chair she'd decide to use. Have you seen the claws on those suckers? I wouldn't try to position one ANYWHERE.

So, Mama, what should I do now? How does a daughter-in-law make right what nature has wrought?

Sincerely,
Iguana Fan

Dear Iggy,

Well, honey ... are you sure you want to make it right? I've had 4 mother-in-laws, including one that moved in for a year. What I wouldn't have given for an incontinent iguana or two.

But if you really do want to get back on her good side (she does have a good side, right?), then you have to cook her a nice meal to make-up. That, and some fragrant soap and shampoo to get rid of the stench of iguana pee.

I went on the Wide World of the Web (it's amazing, really, what-all you can find on that Infonet). How 'bout some Iguana Stew? They say it tastes like chicken. This St. Petersburg, Fla., newsman, Jeff Klinkenberg, writes all about it here.

Good luck, honey. And watch out for those claws. I mean your mother-in-law's, not the poor lizard's.

Love,
Mama

Rodeo Wear?

2009-07-07T07:58:00.005-04:00

Dear Mama,

I'm going to be in Okeechobee, Fla., on Sat., July 25th, to celebrate National Day of the American Cowboy (Who knew we had one?) I know that's pretty close to your hometown of Himmarshee, so I'm hoping you have some advice for me on what to wear.

I have to be comfortable, since I'll be at the Agri-civic center rodeo grounds for several hours, talking about and signing my book, MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN. It's very hot this time of year in middle Fla., I know. May I dress accordingly?

Sincerely,
A Fan in Fort Lauderdale

Dear ''Fan,''

Honey, you aren't fooling me one bit with that young gal you sent a picture of. I know who you are: Deborah Sharp, Miss Snippy Author. Plus, that little gal in the cowgirl mini is young enough to be your granddaughter.

I know we've had our issues, what with you stealing all my stories for your books and all. But I'll do the Christian thing. I forgive you. And, I'm big enough to offer you my fashion advice. Lord knows you need it.

First of all, yes, it's warm. July here is hotter than two rats getting it on in a wool sock. But no short shorts (please, not in any setting, not at your age) and no halter tops (Gravity, honey. 'Nuff said.) You'll need a cowboy hat. And jeans are always in style in Himmarshee. One last thing, if your husband comes with you, tell him no Bermuda shorts and NO sandals. Those ''mandals'' will mark y'all as outsiders faster than trying to order a cappuccino at the Booze 'n' Breeze Drive-thru.

PS: It might have been nice, since I'm so close to Okeechobee, if you'd have invited me to be there for the big signing for OUR book. It's okay. I forgive you for that, too. But honey, you are pushin' your luck.

Love (?),
Mama

Madder than a Box of Frogs

2009-05-28T16:44:00.005-04:00

Dear Readers,

I know this Wide World of the Web plog is for y'all to write me for advice. But I need a little advice myself. What do you wear to a butt-kickin'? Because that's what I'm fixing to give that snippy author Deborah Sharp!

I've told you how she grabs all the attention for the Mama books, even though all she does is write down my stories.

''Creative'' writing, I guess she calls it.

Anyhoo ... get a gander at this press release her fancy publisher sent out about my latest: Mama Rides Shotgun. Go ahead and read it, below. Then, I want you to tell me if you see ANY mention whatsoever of my role as creator and originator of the Mama character. Nope, didn't think so.

And that's my next question: Where do I find me a good copyright lawyer?

Contact: Courtney Kish

Midnight Ink Publicity

Email: CourtneyK@MidnightInkBooks.com

Tel: 651-312-8452

Midnight Ink

For Immediate Release

Native Floridian Continues Her Own Slice of “Old Florida” in Second Mystery

Author Deborah Sharp focuses on little-known rodeo-and-ranches slice of her state

“An amusingly wild ride through parts of Florida tourists rarely visit.”–Kirkus Reviews

ST. PAUL, MINN. — Native Floridian Deborah Sharp continues her passion about the vanishing culture, back roads and burgs of “Old Florida” in her second mystery novel Mama Rides Shotgun, (July).

In Mama Rides Shotgun, Mama's fixin' to marry husband number five. But before she does, she convinces daughter Mace to saddle up for some country-gal bonding on the Florida Cracker Trail. The six-day ride is going fine until wealthy rancher Lawton Bramble keels over in his Cow Hunter Chili.

A one-time beau of Mama's, Lawton Bramble had a bad ticker and tons of enemies. Mace has her doubts about natural causes, along with a long list of suspects who might have "spiced" the cattleman's chili. Mace's worried sisters Maddie and Marty join the ride, as does her sexy ex-beau, Detective Carlos Martinez. With—or despite—their help, Mace is determined to corral this killer.

Florida native Deborah Sharp is a former USA Today reporter. She left news tragedies behind to write the funny, Southern-fried “Mace Bauer Mystery’’ series. Her essays and short stories have run nationally, and her humor commentaries play on the NPR station in Tampa, Fla. Interviewed by Al Roker on NBC’s TODAY Show, Deborah has also made many appearances at book fests and conventions. Visit her on the web at: www.DeborahSharp.com.

Mama Rides Shotgun: A Mace Bauer Mystery (Book 2) by Deborah Sharp

US $14.95 CAN $16.95 | Paperback Original | ISBN: 978-0-7387-1330-4

PUB DATE: July 2009 | Midnight Ink Books

For more information, visit www.MidnightInkBooks.com.

###

To request a review copy or arrange an interview with the author, please contact:

Courtney Kish, Midnight Ink Publicity

Email: CourtneyK@MidnightInkBooks.com, Tel: 651-312-8452

The Perfect Mother's Day Gift

2009-04-29T20:51:00.005-04:00

Dear Mama,

Mother's Day is fast approaching, and I have no idea what to get my own mama.

A tattoo is out; I did that last year. Since the rehab, the six-pack of wine coolers I usually get her is out, too. And after that Janet Jackson-style incident with her and that too-tight tube top at the truck pull, I don't want to get her a clothing store gift certificate. There's just no telling what kind of hoochie-mama outfit she'd come home with. She's gotten way too big for stretchy anything, but I'm not going to be the one to break the news that not even Spandex has infinite pliability.

And don't even suggest a nice dinner out at the Speckled Perch. Mama's not welcome there anymore after that ruckus she caused in the parking lot when she busted open the back of a stock trailer hauling her ex-boyfriend's prize bull. It's a shame that semi-truck driver picked just that moment to speed past on State Road 98.

Can you suggest a gift that won't piss her off, endanger her sobriety, or cause a clothing malfunction too embarrassing to contemplate in a woman of my mama's considerable size?

Signed, In a Quandry

Dear Quandry,

Now, don't take this wrong, honey .... but, your mama can read, can't she? Because if she can, I have the best idea for her Mother's Day gift. I don't want to sound immodest, but there's a terrific book out now called Mama Does Time. It's all about ME! Here's a picture of the cover:

Oh, it's no secret I've had a quibble or two with that fancy author who wrote the book. Like, Number One, how come Ms. Deborah Sharp gets all the credit when I actually lived the story and all she did was write it down? But that's water under the bridge. She's already got a second one coming out in July: Mama Rides Shotgun. That one's all about me, too.

But anyhoo, people do seem to like Mama Does Time, and she put enough of my sayings and all in there to make it entertaining (Believe me, I've met Ms. Sharp. She's about as lively as a Lutheran hymn fest.)

And maybe my story will give your mama a little something to brag about. No matter what all she's done, she hasn't done time. Or maybe she has. In that case, it'll give her something to identify with.

Love,
Mama

Proper Etiquette after a Bar Fight?

2009-02-25T16:35:00.003-05:00

Dear Mama,

I had a little too much to drink the other night at Gator O'Riley's Bar and BBQ, and I let this uppity gal from Orlando get my goat. Well, long story short, we wound up in a catfight. I'm talking hair-pulling, floor-rolling, nail-breaking warfare.

Here's my question, Mama. I'd sooner push a Brahma bull uphill than apologize to that snippy witch from O'town (Who the hell does she think she is, calling me a redneck?)

But I do think it would be polite to make some kind of gesture to Gator himself. What's appropriate? A nice card with a personal note? A check to cover the mirror I broke when I tossed her sorry ass into it? Flowers?

I want to do the right thing, Mama. And I also want Gator to let me back in the door, especially since Thursday's coming up, and that's Chicks Drink Free night.

Sincerely,
Bubbette

Dear Bubbette,

Honey, have you heard of AA? Sounds to me like you could stand to become a Friend of Bill, if you get my drift.

But if you haven't hit bottom yet . . . though, believe me, rolling around on a barroom floor soaked in beer and who knows what-all seems to be getting pretty close . . . I advise sending Gator that check for damages. I know the man, and he doesn't seem like the daisies type.

You didn't ask for fashion advice, but here it is anyway: Dark blue jeans are your best bet if you're going to keep bar-fighting. They barely show the blood at all.

Love,
Mama

Mama, It's COLD Outside!

2009-02-06T09:09:00.005-05:00

Dear Mama,

This shivering Florida gal needs your help. This cold snap we're having shows no sign of ending, and I don't know a damn thing about dressing for frigid weather while looking fashionable.

Is that even possible? Does anyone look good in down? I mean, consider Wisconsin.

Please rush your advice. It's been so cold down South (check out that pix above of my husband taking a dip in Lake Okeechobee. That's how cold we've been!), I'm at my wit's end.

Mama, what do you do, fashion-wise, when the temperature dips?

Signed, Shivering

Dear Shivering,

Honey, there's no use fighting it. You have to dress for the cold first, and worry about fashion second. Now, I know that's heresy coming from me, but have you been outside lately?

When I went to walk Teensy this morning, I was wearing a red Snugee blanket over my purple warm-up suit and a pair of Sal's golf socks on my hands. I even had on a stocking cap, and believe me, you do not want to see my 'do suffering from that Northern syndrome known as ''hat hair.'' I was just grateful no photographer from the Himmarshee Times newspaper drove by and snapped my picture.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. And I am DESPERATE for this cold weather to end. Thought you might like to see a photo of Teensy, below, in his little winter sweater. I figure he looks so adorable, maybe folks won't look too close at me until I can shed this insulation and break out the sherbet-colored pantsuits again.

Love, Mama

Well, I Am Plumb Exhausted!

2009-01-08T18:09:00.007-05:00

My goodness, it has been way too long since I've had a minute to sit down and answer all my letters and queries here at Ask Mama. I promise I will get back on track soon.

Who knows what Fashion Don'ts and Love Life Crises have arisen while I've been otherwise engaged? And I mean that literally, y'all! My fiance Sal popped the question, and I'm planning the biggest wedding little Himmarshee, Fla., has ever seen.

My middle daughter Mace calls it the Wedding of the Century, but I suspect she's being a little bit of a smart aleck, as usual. I do know we have a Gone with the Wind theme, complete with my dog, Teensy, as a ring bearer and ruffled gowns and parasols for my three bridesmaid daughters. They look as pretty as the Southern belles at Cypress Gardens.

I just hope the Yankees don't burn down Tara, figuratively speaking. You may remember my man Sal is from New York City (and, yes, I love him anyway.) A whole passel of his kinfolk are heading south on I-95, and some folks in Himmarshee feel like it's Sherman's March all over again.

I'll keep y'all posted on the progress. I even hear that snippy author, Deborah Sharp, is writing a story about the whole to-do. She's calling it Mama Gets Hitched, though I think I could have come up with a snappier title.

Well, ta-ta for now. I'll catch up with your questions soon.

Love,
Mama

Hallelujah! She Finally Puts on Make-up!

2008-11-06T17:58:00.003-05:00

Well, I'm the first one to admit when I'm wrong (though my middle daughter Mace might quibble a bit with that). And I am here to tell y'all I had that snippy, back-to-nature author all wrong.

Did you see that gal on the Today Show this week? She went all the way up to New York City to talk about my story, which she calls ''Mama Does Time,'' though I can't say I care for the title much myself. It makes me sound like a convict when all that about the murder was really just a misunderstanding ...

Anyhoo, my point is this: Somebody talked her into making up her face for the TV show, and when I got a gander at her on my TV, all I could think was Thank Goodness! I am not kidding you. Little Ms. Natural was wearing lipstick, blush-on, eyeliner, mascara, eyebrow pencil, and foundation (my Lord, they must have slathered it on on with a trowel. You could hardly see her wrinkles and those awful age spots at all!) I've put her foto up there for you to judge for yourself. Now, if you don't think she looks that good, that's because you've never seen her au naturel!

So, I hope this means she's a convert now. We've just been itching to do a makeover for her at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow beauty salon. And we want to take her on a shopping spree to Fran's Frocks and Fancy Duds. When you're 20 you can get away with thrift store clothes, but honey, at 50-plus, you just start looking like a crazy bag lady, wearing somebody else's old hand-me-downs.

That's all for now, from Himmarshee, Fla ... Love, Mama

Nightstand Naughtiness

2008-10-25T00:18:00.004-04:00

Dear Mama,

I hear you've been married four times, so I bet you know something about mother-in-laws. Maybe you can help me, before I'm hauled off to the hoosegow over this latest to-do with my husband's mama.

Here's the deal: When she comes to visit, she likes to rearrange all the cabinets and drawers so they're more to her liking. This didn't bother me so much in the kitchen ... because, frankly, I'm not exactly Suzy Homemaker, and that rat's nest in the kitchen sure needed some attention.

But I had to put my foot down when I came home and found her pulling out and straightening up all the items in our bedroom nightstand. Now, I don't know about you, Mama, but the drawers right beside our bed can hide a few marital secrets, if you know what I mean. I've got two questions for you: How do I discourage his mama from poking her nose where it doesn't belong, and am I within my rights to conk her on the noggin if she won't keep her paws out of our bedroom business?

Sincerely,

Fed up and Flustered

Dear Flustered,

I am with you 100 percent. For me, Husband Number Three's mama was the worst. She always complained about the way I cooked, except when her mouth was full of my dinner. And she never once said thank-you when I gave her a complete make-over at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow. Of course, there was that incident with the hair dryer and third-degree burns, but the short in the electrical wiring wasn't my fault.

As for your mother-in-law, I suggest you put something truly shocking in that nightstand. You can go on the Wide World of the Web, and those folks will mail you something sexy in a plain brown paper wrapper. Now, I don't know about this first-hand, but so I've been told.

Anyway, let her find it and stew over whether to bring it up. If she's got the nerve, I say conk away . . . maybe you can use that whatchamacalit you ordered from the Wide Web World as a weapon.

Love,
Mama

Of Eyeliner and Kitty Litter

2008-08-30T18:11:00.008-04:00

Dear Mama,

I'm 15 and am scheduled to have surgery in a couple of weeks. And, boy, is my surgeon a QT! Even if he is older than my mother. I don't want Dr. Hot to see me wearing a tacky hospital gown with those horrid light brown socks with the white treads on the top and bottom of them. Plus, I won't be able to wear my makeup! What am I going to do??

I thought about sneaking out and getting the eyeliner permanently tattooed on, but I don't have any money (I only get paid $5.50 a week for cleaning five cat litter boxes a day) Help!!

Naked Without Makeup

Dear Naked,
Well, honey ... first let me say good luck on your surgery. We'll add a little prayer for you down at the Abundant Faith and Forgiveness Chapel. And I just know things are going to be okay.

Second, you do not want your surgeon distracted one bit while he's operating, so this isn't the time to worry about looking like a beauty queen. And I can say so, 'cause I WAS a beauty queen: Swamp Cabbage Festival Queen in LaBelle, Fla., in . . . well, we won't say exactly what year that was in.

Anyhoo, I know how you feel about those awful gowns (tacky, not to mention breezy!). And I agree with you about make-up, except in surgery. I'd say just a touch of lipstick once you're in the recovery room. Maybe some blush, too. Oh, and bring a colorful scarf -- maybe a lemon yellow? -- to jazz up that hideous brown.

Now, about those tattooed eyelids ... do not go there, darlin'. I know perfectly nice gals have them, but I advise against anything that permanent anywhere. You never know how fashion might change. Nothing says forever like a tattoo. Just ask Angelina Jolie.

Finally, I know you're only 15, but you are getting ROBBED on that litter-box job of yours. I'm more of a dog person (Maybe you've read about my pet Pomeranian, Teensy?), but I understand those cats can be demanding little divas. And stinky litter boxes, too? Honey, you should be bringing in at least 10 bucks a week for your trouble.

Love,

Mama

Fashion Emergency

2008-08-18T19:30:00.002-04:00

Dear Mama,

I saw that gal who's been writing up your stories, and I think you've been falling down on the job. Folks look to you to know what looks good (I loved that boysenberry pantsuit you wore to the Livestock Auction in Himmarshee . . . and you found earrings, a scarf, and those little strappy sandals to match that unusual shade of purple. I sure hope you didn't step in anything in those shoes on the way out of the cattle ring . . . )

Anyways, that poor author gal could sure use a make-over. She's talked about trying to update her look, but I know for a fact she's had the identical hairstyle since 1979.

Can't you drag her down to Hair Today Dyed Tomorrow? Or take her in for a clothing consult at Home on the Range Feed Store and Fashion Emporium? I mean, really, anything would be an improvement.

I'm not kiddin,' Mama. You've got to step in. She's thinking about going out on YOUR book tour in Birkenstocks. I just pray she doesn't wear them with socks.

Sincerely, Fashion Conscious

Dear Fashion Conscious,

Honey, you are preaching to the choir. I've talked to that poor gal 'til I'm blue in the face. I can't get her to understand the first thing about fashion.

Those Birkenstock shoes aren't the worst of it. Did you happen to see her at Gladys' restaurant when she visited Himmarshee the other day? Not a stitch of make-up, not even lipstick. And the poor thing has spent her life in the Florida sun. I offered to show her how to fill in some of those creases and wrinkles with a good foundation.

And don't get me started on those drab clothes. Nobody looks good in beige.

So, I appreciate what you're saying, but believe me, I've tried. She reminds me of my middle daughter, Mace. The both of them are stubborn as mules about taking my advice.

Love,

Mama

Too Big for her Britches

2008-07-22T17:34:00.009-04:00

Dear Mama:

What would you do if you had to work with a woman whose head is too big for her britches? She struts around all day like a cock rooster just gobblin' and preenin'--not really doing anything at all.

I want to feed her to the alligators but I've been told that is not the Christian way.

Signed, Sick of Miss Somethin'

Dear ''Sick,''

Now, honey, I know you're upset and I don't want to pick ... but you know that gal's HEAD can't be too big for her britches, right? Irregardless, I know what you're trying to get at here.

We've all of us had to put up with somebody not pulling their weight at work. It's worse when they act like their stuff don't stink, if you get my drift.

You're right: It's flat-out wrong to feed her to the alligators. Plus, you've already talked about it now on the Wide World of the Web, and the police have ways of getting into your Internet if Miss Somethin' happens to turn up the victim of a gator attack. That's called premeditation, honey.

That's not to say you can't take her out birdwatching or looking for swamp orchids in Starvation Slough. Let's say y'all happen to get separated, way, way out in the gator-infested swamp. Nature takes its course. Problem solved.

Love,
Mama

Ka-Boom, it's my birthday!

2008-07-04T16:53:00.004-04:00

Howdy, y'all!

People always ask me how I like sharing a birthday with our nation. Well, I like it fine. I was 10 years old before I realized all the fireworks and whoop-dee-doo every Fourth of July wasn't specifically on account of me.

My middle daughter, Mace, always says that explains a lot.

Well, I'm not going to take too long on the computer and the Wide World of the Web today. We're having a picnic at Himmarshee Park -- BBQ ribs, baked beans and corn-on-the-cob. And, of course, my favorite dessert, butterscotch pie.

I told Ida not to bother making her potato salad this year, but I know she'll bring it anyway. Last year, my fiance Sal was the only one who'd eat it. It went through him like green grass through a goose, if you get my meaning.

Anyway, just wanted to say Happy Birthday to ME (and also to the US of A.)

Love, Mama

My Best Friend's a Judas

2008-06-22T16:18:00.004-04:00

Dear Mama,

I am so mad at my former best friend I'm fixin' to knock her teeth down her throat just so I can watch her spit 'em out single-file.
She betrayed me with my no-account boyfriend, Darryl! They did the deed in the king-sized bed I'm still paying off on my credit card. Even worse, I just found out she's pregnant.
I lost my best friend and my boyfriend (though, honestly, Darryl is no loss.)
Here's my question: I've been invited to the baby shower. Do I have to bring a gift?
Signed,
Done Wrong

Dear Done,

Honey, the only thing worse than a cheating man is a Judas best friend. And believe me, I've known my share of both. If she wasn't in the family way, I'd declare open season on those teeth of hers and tell you to start knockin'.
But there's a way to get her back so you won't get hauled in for assault.
Go to that baby shower looking like a million bucks. Her ankles are likely all swollen and she feels big as a house, so she'll see the contrast right off. Talk about how getting rid of Darryl is the best thing that ever happened to you. You know she already regrets hooking up, so this'll remind her what a loser he is. And, finally, bring the nicest gift you can afford. You'll look like the better woman, and Lord knows that poor child deserves something special considering the no-class parents he's got.

Love, Mama

Who'd Make the Best President?

2008-05-25T16:27:00.005-04:00

Dear Mama,

I'm curious about how Himmarshee (and you!) will vote in the presidential election? You've helped so many people with love and fashion tips, I thought you might have something to say about politics, too.

Signed,
Are you Red or Blue?

Dear Red or Blue,

Well, honey, I'm a Summer, so neither of those colors is right for me. I favor pastels. Primary colors look best on gals with Winter complexions and coloring. Stop by and see me sometime at Hair Today Dyed Tomorrow beauty parlor, and I'll give you a free sample of your own seasonal color chart.

As for your other question, politics was something my mama always told us to steer clear of in polite company. I found out why during my marriage to Husband No. 3. He was a nice man otherwise, but he could talk the hind leg off a dog when it came to politics. He had some real strong opinions, too. Plus, he'd argue them louder and louder, just like those folks on cable TV.

Once, at Thanksgiving, No. 3 lit into my nephew, who's a bit of a liberal, if you get my drift. Kenny took it as long as he could, until he finally ended up dumping a nearly full serving dish of Ida's green bean casserole right over my ex's head. I was mad about my tablecloth, but it gave me a secret thrill to see my sister-in-law's awful cream of mushroom soup and canned onion ring concoction dripping down No. 3's brow.

Two birds with one stone.

Anyway, trying to persuade someone to your political views is like getting into a pissing match with a polecat. One of you is sure to end up stinking.

Love,
Mama

I'm Famous, Y'all!

2008-04-30T17:50:00.005-04:00

Take a gander at the book cover on your right. Have you ever seen anything so exciting?
Of course, it wasn't exciting for the poor soul I found stuffed into my trunk like a piece of Samsonite luggage, may he rest in peace.
But for me it was a thrill to see the cover. It's a Coming Attraction for one of my stories, which will be on all the bookshelves Oct. 1, 2008.
You might remember me telling you about that snooty author, the one who's been running around taking the credit for writing Mama Does Time. So she wrote it down, big deal. I'm the one who lived it.
And Miss Smarty Pants Sharp better not forget that.
Anyhoo, I hope you like the cover. And, by the way, that poor soul in the trunk actually deserved what he got ... but you can read all about it in Mama Does Time.
PS: In case you forgot, I'm Mama.
PSS: You better hurry and write Ask Mama if you need some advice. Once my fancy book tour starts, I won't have as much time to pass out my pearls of wisdom.

Gridiron Griping

2008-03-05T16:33:00.003-05:00

Dear Mama,

I was hoping you could help me with my man. Problem is the Falcons. We married on a good year when they only lost a few games. Life was good then, but all that's changed.
Maybe you saw them play last season? They stunk up the stadium, that's for sure.
When the Falcons loose, Earl don't even talk at all until Wednesday or Thursday. He mopes around the house, kickin' at the dog and mumblin' about yards gained and sacks. By Friday he's bitchin' about next weeks game.
I can't stand it!
I tried callin' the coach and askin' for a better Fall, but he just laughed. I don't think I can take another year of Earl tossin' beer cans at the TV.
Sincerely,
Fourth Down and Out

Dear Fourth Down,

I sympathize with you, honey. Husband No. 3 was a nut for NASCAR. Back then, the late, great Dale Earnhardt was dominating the track. But on those rare days ol' Dale didn't win .... whoo-eee, Watch Out! I'd have to tip-toe around the house like I did when No. 2 was hung-over. And that was a lot of walking on my toes, I'll tell you that.
Short of you solving the Falcons' quarterback problems yourself, I think you'd better prepare for another losing season.
But you're missing an opportunity to bond with your man. You can sit down and watch the game with him, and both of you can toss beer cans at the TV. Nothing like cursing pitiful coaching together to build your relationship. When he bitches about the defense, you bitch about it, too.
But for heaven's sake, put the poor dog outside. It's enough the Falcons' fans suffer; the dog shouldn't have to, too.

Love,
Mama

Never too much Leopard!

2008-03-01T19:41:00.005-05:00

Dear Mama,

I've seen you around town at the Speckled Perch and whatnot and I think you have the best fashion sense of any woman in Himmarshee, a lot better than those Yankees on TV.

I can see you like to match and I do, too. My question is this. My no good sister is marrying my ex boyfriend next month. She did not ask me to be a bridesmaid so I'm planning to wear a leopard dress just to show her up. My question is this: is it too much to have shoes to match? My girlfriends are divided on this.

Signed, Bitter and Proud of it

Dear Bitter,

I always say when it comes to animal prints, a little bit is never enough. (Of course, I say that about a lot of things .... including marriages.)

Your girlfriends are wrong, honey. Go whole hog: not just the shoes in matching leopard, but a purse and a scarf, too. Maybe you can even have the manicure gal at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow do your nails in black-and-gold spots. You'll outshine that slutty sister like a jungle cat trumps a tabby.

Be careful with those fake nails, though. I predict a catfight before the cake's cut, and nobody wants to find a pinky nail in their chicken pasta.

Love, Mama

Red Flannel and Elvis

2008-02-17T13:58:00.007-05:00

Dear Mama,

I'm a newlywed, and I want to make sure I have proper eteekit to fit in with my new husband's family. I have a few questions, and I'd really aprechiate your help.

Will my food stamps buy beer at the Red Neck Alley Inn?

My husband, DeWayne, looks so cute in that red flannel union suit so I don't mind none that he wears it everyday. Even in the summer. But I say we need to bring it down to the laundromat every Sunday, right after church. DeWayne says it can wait 2 sermons. Mama, how often do you think his union suit should be washed?

I'm an Elvis fan. Don't get me wrong. But that life-size cut-out DeWayne moves around our trailer creeps me out sometimes. I don't mind him at the dinner table much. But when Elvis lays in bed with us, well, like I said, Elvis is the king. But am I wrong to think he shouldn't be between us when we sleep?

I'm shure I'll have more questins for ya', Mama. Thanks for yer help.

Love and Nascar, Molly Sue Ann Bob Billy JoJo Walker

Dear Molly Sue Ann etc. etc. etc.,

Honey, I wouldn't worry a bit about fitting in. If you've already scoped out the beer and bowling at the Red Neck Alley, you sound like the perfect match for your new man and his family.
As I see it, you've got yourself a husband, nearby bowling, AND Elvis. Count your blessings, gal! You could have a Rottweiler named Cujo in bed with you, like another one of my advice-seekers who wrote in. At least Elvis don't bite!
As for buying the beer, the way you handle that is to sell some of your food stamps first for cash. But I'd save the booze for nights DeWayne refuses to wash that red flannel, and I'd opt for something a little stronger than beer.
As for me personally, I can't abide the smell of liquor or an unwashed man after Husband No. 2. But you've got plenty of time to find out how much you're willing to take in the name of matrimony.

Love,
Mama

Well, I Never!

2008-02-04T12:38:00.001-05:00

Did you see what that smart-aleck author did now? I don't think it's one bit funny that she stuck that picture of a mule up there where my blogger photo should be!
Now, I'll admit I can be a little bit stubborn at times ... and I have been known to tie on the feedbag a fair bit, especially when it comes to barbecue or butterscotch pie.
But, really, a mule?
That Deborah Sharp is about to pluck my last nerve. Mercy me, that gal could make a preacher cuss!

Did That Snippy Writer Scare Y'all Off?

2008-01-15T15:05:00.000-05:00

I've been wondering why I wasn't getting too many letters here in the Wide World of the Web, and then I saw that high-falutin' Note to Readers from that smarty-pants writer, Deborah Sharp.
Well, let me just tell you . . . y'all shouldn't be afraid to ask for my advice. I tell it like it is, but I'm never mean (which is more than I can say for Little Miss Too-Big-For-Her-Britches Sharp.)
I DO NOT crave attention, I've never run a "scheme,'' and as for me thinking I sprung to life on my own .... well, shouldn't that be "sprang,'' Miss Know-it-All English Major?
So, anyways, send in those Eeee mails. Honey, I've been through it all: bad love affairs, awful hair, a little misunderstanding that landed me in jail for a murder I didn't commit.

You can't surprise me, and I might surprise you. So sharpen your pencils and drop me a line.
Sincerely,

Rosalee Deveraux
(AKA: "Mama" )

PS: I learned all about AKA in jail: it means Also Known As, which is another way of saying it's my alias. Look it up, Miss Fancy Author.

Monster Gift?

2007-11-28T15:38:00.000-05:00

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?

Signed, 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

Lying Down with Dogs

2007-10-03T20:10:00.000-04:00

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

Christmas Lights, Yay or Nay?

2007-08-27T10:07:00.000-04:00

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

That boy's got ticks in the brain!

2007-08-21T14:37:00.000-04:00

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?
Signed,
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

Don't Give it Away, honey!

2007-07-31T13:14:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-31T12:55:00.000-04:00

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).