She's Bringin' Stupid Back

I have to tell you, I've been worried about Jill these past few months.  No, not because she's going through a divorce from a lecherous monster.  I have all faith that she can endure that whole drama and come out on top.

Nope, what's really been worrying me is that I thought she'd lost her stupid. 

This may be hard for you to understand, but it was scary for me.  How could I survive my days without hearing Jill mangle the English language?  How could I enjoy any time I have with her if she's acting like a normal person?  It didn't bear thinking about, but think about it I did, because she seemed to have gone at least two months without saying anything to put me in stitches, or at the very least just shake my head with pity.

My God, Jill has lost her stupid!!!

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she'd find it again while in the midst of worry over our mother.  But it seems that my mother's stroke, while not affecting her own speech patterns, did indeed affect Jill's cognitive ability.  What's that saying about God closing a door but opening a window?  It's kinda like that, I think.

I have examples too, which just tickles me to no end.  And get this.  It's not only Jill who got her stupid back, but Mom and Dad too!  Woot woot!

Anyway, Jill always does the driving when we're not close to my house.  She was kind of drifting over to the left from her lane, but not really with any intentions I could see.  Finally I asked, "What the hell are you doing?"  She said, "I'm making a useD turn."

While sitting in Cracker Barrel I said, "Wow, could these chairs be any less comfortable?" 

Jill:  "I don't know, but my crotch has pins and needles."

Wow, hoo hoo talk at the table and I learned something new.  Had no clue your hooch could fall asleep from lack of circulation.

Then, all in one sentence, no break even for a breath she says, "Geez, my hand is killing me should I get the biscuits or sausage?"

The last Jill stupid isn't even anything she said, but what she did.  She was driving me home Thursday night, as usual with her cell phone tucked into her bra (boob tooth, remember?).  I glanced over at her and did a double-take.  She was plucking her face while driving on I-95.

What the pluck???

Me:  "Jill, what the hell are you doing?  You can't hope to grab any hairs when you're not looking in the mirror."

Jill:  "That's okay.  Accidentally pinching my skin keeps me awake while I'm driving."

Some people open a window.  Others drink coffee or turn up the radio.  Jill?  She plucks.

Okay, enough about Jill.  Let's turn to Mom.  The day she was released from the hospital she insisted on coming out to eat with Dad and I.  She would not be deterred.  She'd had enough of being sedentary.  So, I'm sitting across the table from them when Mom gets this strange look on her face while staring at something behind my back. 

She then says, "Justine, I don't know if there's something wrong with my eyes from the stroke, but that woman behind you has two sets of toes."

Me:  "Huh?"

Mom:  "That woman has two sets of toes on each foot, one set behind the other!  They're pink! Look!"

Dad, very serious, "Gin, are you feeling okay?"

Mom:  "Would you just look!"

I turned around but the woman was at an angle to me.  The only feet I could see were those of her son, sitting across from her and his feet looked just fine.

Mom:  "Justine, you have to get up and look under their table.  Please!"  *Giggling*

Dad:  "Ginny, would you stop, they're going to hear you!"

Mom:  "Hey Justine, if I throw this spoon you can go pick it up and then casually look at the woman's feet."

Me:  "Mom, do not throw...."

Mom:  *throws spoon within 2 feet of woman's table*  *Laughing like a hyena*

As I'm bending down:  "I'm picking up the spoon but I am not looking!"

Mom: "Gee, thanks!  I swear she's got two sets of toes!"

Somehow we got through dinner without further incident, but I did catch mom staring under that other table several times.  I swear, sometimes she acts like such a child.  But as we were leaving the restaurant, I was able to glance back and look at the woman's feet.  Oh.  My.  God.  My mother is an idiot!!!!"

Me:  "Mom?  That chick does not have two sets of toes."

Mom:  "Really?"

Me:  "Yes really, Mom, she must have just had a manicure.  She was wearing pink toe separators." 

*Three of us cracking up*

The next day the three of us were sitting outside while Mom was on the phone.  At one point she lifted her arm to touch her hair and I could not believe my eyes.  As soon as she got off the phone, I said, "Mom, when's the last time you shaved your pits?"

Mom:  "I don't know, why?"

Me:  "Well, your pit hair is so long we could probably braid and bead them.  You look like you just came off the show, Survivor."

About half an hour later, as she passed by my chair she quickly lifted up her arm to flash me her jungle pit.

Is this normal?  Do your 64 year old moms do this kind of thing?

So Thursday morning I'm chatting with my dad and he's telling me about a segment they did on the Today Show about how fattening movie theater popcorn is.  He explained that most theaters use cheap coconut oil to pop with.  But, in classic let's-insert-my-own-words dad-style, he said:

"But some movie theaters use the healthier, granola oil."

Me:  "Do you mean canola oil, Dad?"

Dad:  "Isn't that what I said?  Cannoli oil?"

Then I lost it.




You just never know what's going to come out of the mouth of a Ferrara.  I swear, when I'm with them I should have a voice-activated recorder strapped to my neck because I doubt anyone would really believe this shit just 'cause I'm telling you.

I also learned of what I believe is a new phenomena in the 55 and older communities.  They've taken going out to lunch to a whole new place, literally.  My parents' neighbors, Roland and Carol told me their favorite place to go for lunch is...






the local hospital's cafeteria. 

They say it's super cheap (you can get a loaded baked potato for $2.49!) and the food is delicious!


If I ever utter the words,  " Hey, I'm hungry.  Wanna take a ride up to Baptist South for lunch?",  just kill me on the spot.





Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Smart One and the Stupid One **Edited to add a picture of Jill's frullet!!!**

Sister Jill finally got around to looking at my newly designed blog last night. In doing so she validated my reasoning for the blog name I chose. Yes, sister really can be stupid. Why this time? Because she told me that now I needed to put up a post explaining my blog header.

Erm... isn't it fairly obvious? I, being the smart, intellectual sister, sits upon the bench reading the epic poem, Beowulf. Jill, being the stupid sister is reading Spelling For Dummies. Upside-down. Yep, seems to explain itself, me thinks.

For years and years Jill and I have been mistaken for twins, hence the mirror image of the fat chick.

While I was working with my blog designer, Krystyn, I kept sending updated pictures of the header for Jill to look at. She kept telling me that the girls needed a haircut. I tried to explain to her that Krystyn is a blog designer, not a hair stylist, but Jill just wasn't getting it. So I'm going to assume that you all can use your imaginations and pretend that those fat chicks on the header have short, funky hair.

And speaking of which, Larry did his Edward Scissorhands thing on me this past Saturday. I related to him that Jill had gotten her hair cut at Great Clips and Larry went on to agree with me about Jill's heavy swag of side bangs, comparing them to the hot mess that is Kate Gosselin's hair. In fact, he made up a new word to describe Jill's bangs. She has a frullet. A front mullet. Yes indeedy.

Some have asked to see a picture of Jill's frullet, so here ya go. This picture was taken last weekend while at a party with her friend, Jen. Is it a frullet or what?


Anyhoodle, now that the new bloggy is up and running, please remember to change the addy on your blog roll to www.StupidIsAsSisterDoes.com, and then come back and grab my new, rockin' button for your sidebar!

Before I go, I'd like to thank my wonderful, beautiful friend, Blue Violet, (Yes, she has a real name, but shhh... it's a secret. Don't you wish you knew?) from A Nut in a Nutshell for recommending Krystyn of Krizzy Designs to give my blog a makeover. Not only are her prices way more affordable than most of the blog designers out there, but she was a trip to work with. I swear, I had the girl running in circles to get just my header the way I wanted it. She later told me that I'd "kept her on her toes". I'm going to assume that's a good thing.




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my stupid sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

Random Crap Tuesday

Before I even really begin, I want to first take a moment to apologize for my horrendous blog reading and commenting this past week. A couple of posts ago, I told you of a new-found addiction. Facebook's Farm Town.

I wish I could tell you things were getting better, but this application has me in its grip. My neighbors are doing it, my Facebook friends are doing it, my sister is doing it, and (gasp) now my brother is giving it a whirl! It was stunning enough when I saw my bro on FB last week. He's just not the social networking type. But when he asked me to hook him up with a farm? I nearly crapped myself. My father actually showed an interest in having a farm too, but he said he would only raise dairy cows. Sorry dad, entirely different application.

I am so gripped in this damn game that I find it hard to fall asleep some nights, wondering if my crops are ready to harvest, imagining how I might change the layout of my farm. I dream about when I'll finally get 300,000 coins so I can buy a white farm house.

This is what my farm currently looks like. You can see the back of my farmer head there. Unfortunately, my computer screen is so tiny you can't see the entire farm in one shot.



I need help. Serious help. Do NOT help me. I'm untreatable at this point.

Speaking of my new computer, it's so adorable! It's like the VW Bug of laptops!



So anyway, it took some convincing, but I finally got Jill to come here this weekend with the girls. First, let me say that Alexa looks so much better right now. Obviously the poor kid was being poisoned with too many medications. For a long time she was no only too thin, in my opinion, but her face looked sunken-in. Within 2 weeks time though, she's put on a few pounds and the gaunt look is gone. Hooray! Not to mention that her behavior has done a 180.

Saturday, we did our usual thing. Ya know, eating out when we don't have the money and then shopping when again, we don't have the money. But we ate cheap. About as cheap as you can get. Golden Corral.

Oh yeah, this places oozes class.



There's just something about an unlimited buffet that both grosses me out and excites me to no end.

While we were out doing our thing, Jimmy was out doing his thing. Deep sea fishing. He got up at 3:00 in the morning so he and two of his coworkers/friends could get on a 28' boat and drive 80 miles out into the deep blue. A twenty-eight foot boat. Eighty miles out in the ocean. You'd have to pay me multiple millions to get my ass out on a boat the size of a dinghy just so I could catch fish. Shit, I can go to the fish market and I only have to drive 10 miles and, I don't even need Dramamine.

Okay, so it's a manly sport and I just don't get it. But it was a first-time experience for Jimmy and he enjoyed every minute of it.



There was probably enough testosterone on that boat to fuel the whole trip there and back.

At least he took in a decent haul. A few nice size Mahi Mahi, a few grouper (my favorite!), red snapper, and some other weird named fish I can't recall.


Sunday Jill insisted that we all trek to the local beach with the kids and the dogs. For this, I convinced Jimmy to come along. Jill wasn't impressed with the beach because it's on too much of a slope and the waves were just a teeny bit too big for her girls to enjoy. Mine on the other hand had a blast. Strudel, same as last time, hated the water. Cannoli wasn't nearly as enthralled by it as Jill always makes her out to be.

You're probably expecting pictures from our weekend together but sadly, I don't have any. Why? Because the happy fisherman took my camera without even telling me and then proceeded to leave it at his friend's house. He is officially never allowed to borrow a camera of mine again. The last time he did, it was on a business trip to Germany and he left it on the plane, never to be seen again. Next time? He can get himself a disposable Kodak.

But oh how I wish I'd had the camera, because after the beach Jill offered to bathe the dogs in the kiddie pool. Well, she was down on one knee, giving Strudel Doo a good scrubbing, when suddenly, Strudel tried to escape and Jill lost her balance. She fell face-forward into the pool, but no, her head didn't get wet, because her ginormous boobs hit the water first and acted as flotation devices. Oh my word, if only I had this on film for all of you. Video would have been perfect so you could see her flailing and yelling, "Help me! Help me!" I swear I nearly peed myself.

Over the weekend Jill said, no less than three times, "Can you plug her in for me?" In normal- person- English that would be, "Can you buckle her in for me?" These are the things Jill is famous for, and the things about her that make me adore her more and more every day. Don't you wish you had a stupid silly sister?







Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Things Jill Won't Tell You

Ah, my sweet, accident prone, sometimes brainless sister, Jill. God love her, she is the sweetest, most giving person you'd ever have the honor of meeting. But she's an idiot. I say this in the most loving, caring, my-sister-is-a-penis kind of way.

There are so many reasons to love my sis, and here are some of them...

One night we were chatting on the phone as she drove to Publix for some groceries. We got off the phone and Jill walked into the store, only then realizing it was the wrong Publix. Because she'd been distracted talking to moi, she drove miles out of her way and didn't realize her mistake until she was in the unfamiliar store. Dork.


Sadly, Publix is obviously a huge part of our lives. Another night we were on the phone chatting about what we needed to pick up for our week's groceries. I was idly wondering what was on sale, when Jill started reciting every BOGO and sale item in the store. From produce to meats, from snacks to condiments, she knew every one. I asked her where she got the ad or if she was viewing it online. She was not reading the ad! She had memorized all of the sale items from a previous visit to the store! Freakish.



One night Jill was out and about shopping with Mom. She'd bought this wonderful smelling lip gloss, and while driving, applied it. Seconds later she was screaming in pain. Her lips were on fire! What was wrong with this damn lip gloss? She took a closer look at the label. It was not lip gloss. It was roll-on perfume! As she frantically tried to remove the flesh eating scent, her and Mom were practically peeing their pants laughing like loons. Later, the skin on her lips cracked, peeled, and bled. Stoopid.



Last night she was carrying a 2-liter bottle of diet soda from one room to another. She accidentally dropped it and it rolled under her computer desk. She reached down and picked it up, but somehow, in the process of straightening back up, she whacked herself in the face with the soda bottle. Once again, she's bleeding. My question: How does one pick up a bottle of soda and thrust it into one's face? Moron.



Jill has a fence around her property with a gate across the driveway. When she brings the dogs out, she's usually good about making sure Mark or Wayne has closed the gate behind them. Sometimes she forgets and the dogs make a bee-line for freedom. Usually, when this happens Jill is in a state of, shall we say, undress. But does she take the time to go inside and put on some decent clothes and shoes? No, of course not. She just wants to get her dogs back safely in her yard. Twice in the last month this has happened, both times when it was in the low 30s. Picture this: Jill in shorts and tank top. No bra, no shoes. Hair like a rat's nest. Now picture in your mind, Jill running up and down her street, trying to catch the dogs, boobs swinging to and fro, hitting her in the chin, bare feet pounding the frozen pavement, yelling like a crazy woman for Reeses Peanut Butter Cup to "Come here now!" Mental patient.

Once again we're on the phone at night while she's driving. Suddenly she pulls up to what I thought was her house and starts talking to a raccoon in the yard. This in itself isn't odd for Jill, as we both talk to the critters. What was odd was when I heard the car start moving again. "Jill, where are you going? You were in your driveway." Jill says, "No I wasn't. I was in someone else's driveway!" So now we can add trespassing for the sake of wildlife entertainment to her list of abnormalities. Psycho.



Last week Jill was getting ready to go to our nephew, Jonny's play, called Romeo, You Idiot. She was applying foundation to her face, smearing it all over, when she realized the texture was all wrong. Doofus had spread hair mousse all over her face! How can one even make that mistake? Foundation is creamy, mousse is... well, it's frickin' fluffy! Jill, You Idiot!


Look at the name of the mousse. Am I clever, or am I clever?


Stay tuned blogger buddies. There are always new Jill stories to tell, and it's my goal in life to let them be heard!







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