Sally Jesse Maude-el

Guys, Maude posted an epic throwback pic on the ol’ FB yesterday and I could never live with myself if I didn’t share it here for the world to see. You know, all 57 of you followers, 43 of whom¹ actually click the email and read here *ahem*.

Anyway, it must be National 4-H week or something, because there’s a 4-H filter and Maude threw it back to her calf-showing days.

Yes, her calf-showing days. Now, before you get this all twisted and think Maude was some sort of Amish stripper² years ago, I am talkin’ cows, not legs here, folks. Maude was actually pretty interested in/knowledgeable about her 4-H calves for a few years there, and she (a.k.a., Smoke) took home some decent prizes throughout her 4-H career (no red ribbons, for all you former 4-Hers).

Now, quit yappin’, Bev, and show us the damn picture… (yells the one person who is actually still reading…)

I have to admit, as excited as I am to unveil this photo, there is one huge disappointment. In order to conceal Maude’s (and therefore, my own) identity, I had to cover her face. This might not feel like that big of a deal, but you don’t now what’s underneath my crude iPhone edit… 

Pic credit: http://perezhilton.com/tag/sally_jessy_raphael/#.WdbyYtOGM_U

Because it’s this.

Yes, this is what you’re missing. Maude had red Sally Jesse Raphael glasses for years. You know, from the age of ten to fourteen or so? (Maude, weigh in here) It’s one of my favorite things to make fun of her about- along with her deformed thumb. Remind me to show you a picture of that shit sometime. #witchcraft

Anyhoo, all of this 4-H talk got me to thinking of my own 4-H days- much less fruitful than Maude’s in the calf-showing department, that’s for sure… I thought for sure I had shared my (traumatizing) cattle show experience (note that I have one while Maude’s calf shows was most certainly plural), but a few quick searches here indicate that maybe I never have? I mean, there’s this gold(enstein) mine³ of my 4-H scrapbook during a closet clean-out, but I think you’ve made it through nearly three years of reading here without the tragic tale of star-crossed lovers, Wilbur and Bev. I promise you that the 20-year-old version of that adventure will be coming soon, and it’s a goddamn doozy, let me tell ya. It will be here before you know it, but I’ll give you a little hint by unveiling the title: “Tears and Tranquilizers.”

God, I’m going to need a Xanax to dig up these memories, guys. I am 100% positive that I have a similar picture of myself with my calf, and I’ll do my best to dredge that bitch up. (note: I will not be wearing SJR’s signature red specs, but I think you can catch a glimpse of my steel-toed boots, so I think you’ll be satisfied…)

-Bev

¹I literally just feel too damn Fancy whenever I use the word whom and have no idea if I use it correctly or not. And it’s one of the few grammatical things that I kind of refuse to Google to try to find answers… it’s like the Boogeyman is in the basement, and I ain’t opening up that door, OK? OMG, speaking of Fancy, remember Fancy? My friend from O’Reilly Auto Parts? God, I loved her.

²Maude is currently working for a company that has been bought out by another company, and is essentially riding the train to the end of the track, and will be searching for a new job sometime in the next year. Does anyone know the going rate for Amish strippers?

³I just love using gold(enstein) mine. Exhibit A. Exhibit B.