Squirrel Underpants and Other Useful Links

Because the More Cowbell Universe loves me, one of my readers sent me a link to Squirrel Underpants. They’re too small for me, but I thought they might give you some wild weekend chitter-chatter.


Endorsed by SmallAnimalDecency.com, these babies are a wild value at only $6.50.

If you have more questions about ’em, here’s the link to Frequently Asked Questions. My favorite?

Why should I care about naked squirrels?

Naked squirrels are contributing to the moral decay of our world! They flaunt their nudity and run around like tiny furry streakers. These underpants are a perfect, simple solution to a big, complicated problem.

Do  your part for the environment and get some streaking squirrel a pair of underpants! I’ve got a ninja in the back yard that could totally use these suckers.

On another note, I promised to keep giving y’all links to my eHow articles in case any of the topics are useful:

I tell you, my life is downright scintillating…dead people, dating and used cars.

Have you seen squirrel undies before now? Ever seen a “live pair?” Enquiring minds LOVE to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

p.s. This is the 700th post here at More Cowbell. That’s simply amazing to me, and it is so fitting to have “Underpants” in the title! Thank y’all for making it so fun here. :-)

Posted in Humor, More Cowbell | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

What Is UP at More Cowbell?

Undie Chronicles

Photo by Liz Henry – Flickr – https://www.flickr.com/photos/lizhenry/249429188

The short answer to the title question is: not as much lately. Y’all have been a bit neglected of late. I’ve had two hilarious Undie Chronicles on deck for three weeks now, with not so much time to write them because I’ve been writing other things. LOTS of other things.

Perhaps the question circling your noggin now is:
What could Jenny be writing that’s more important than ‘Scratch and Sniff Undies?’

[What? That wasn’t your question?]

I’m deep in edits on my book.

My pals got sick of me just calling it “the nun book” so it became A SISTER IN NEED, which won the Rising Star contest last year. The current working title is ROSARIES MAKE BAD THONGS. (We might do a title vote here at More Cowbell before it’s all said and done.) I’m sending out sections of it to beta readers and getting it ready to hand over to an editor.

I’ve been building a freelance writing career.

After a year of hard work, that was interrupted by a hip surgery, the freelance writing gig is starting to gain traction. I’ve written more than 100 articles in the last year, not including the ghostwriting, the press releases, the web copy, or the copywriting.

It occurred to me that some of these articles might help my peeps, so here are the latest:

Obviously I like showing people how to do nifty computer stuff and where to learn programs for free! I’ll start linking to these articles here at More Cowbell so y’all can use them too.

This freelance stuff includes a Jenny Hansen LLC site, which isn’t ready yet, but I’m finally starting to pay attention to it. You’d be doing me a serious favor to click that link, take a peek at it and tell me what you think down in the comments.

Here’s the header graphic (isn’t my designer pal, Clair, awesome?):

Jenny Hansen

Finally, there was the garage sale, birthday party, kindergarten whirlwind, which are all (thankfully) in the past.

In my research travels, I discovered Patrick Flynn from Smart Passive Income, and this guy is like an online superhero. He makes me feel like a slacker. Here’s a summary of his 2014.

And finally, the video that made me laugh. It’s just so full of testosterone.

Catch me up with all of you! What have you been working on? What are you excited about? What has made you laugh this week? Enquiring minds love to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

Posted in More Cowbell | Tagged , , , , | 19 Comments

5 Ways Kindergarten Prep Feels Like a Job Interview

kindergarten, kids

It’s Thoughty Thursday, and I’m gonna get my rant on. It feels like I’ve been preparing for my kid to go to kindergarten for at least 4 months now.

What happened to the days when you just took a piece of mail, filled out a form and sent your kid to the school in their district? Was that scenario just a figment of my imagination? Why does this feel like a job interview? She doesn’t even start till September.

Do you see the similarities too?

1. You must submit at least 3 forms of ID to the HR Department.

A driver’s license with your current address, a property tax bill, the kid’s birth certificate… And that’s to the district, who is only open for limited times three days a week. We aren’t even talking about the school yet.

Seriously, y’all? What if the family has just moved? Those poor people have to brave the DMV before their kid can go to school? It’s kindergarten, not a space mission.

2. Multiple interviews over several months.

I’ve done orientations for three public schools in my district – one is a magnet school, so that one was optional, but I’m in an area between two elementary schools. Each orientation tells me about the same thing, takes two hours, is tightly regimented and leaves me wondering if this will be the final step.

3. Acceptance hinges on the medical report.

For adults, it’s a drug test; for kids it’s the vaccination report and doctor’s form. What’s all that stuff I heard about “the parent’s choice to vaccinate” the kid?

I’m a firm believer in vaccines, but I’m shocked at how involved this medical report is. Plus, you can’t get it covered via insurance until after the child has a birthday, so my neighbor is having to pay $80 to get it done early before all the kindergarten classes fill up and she’s stuck in the “overflow” classes.

4. Surveys and tests that make no sense.

I don’t know if you’ve ever done those employment tests where they have you manipulate shapes, do math problems that have no bearing on the job, and answer the same question 14 times: No really, I still won’t steal, whether it’s five bucks, five hundred, or five paper clips. Filling out kindergarten forms feels like that, and nobody shares information.

5. You’re pressured to agree to everything, just to get in.

Why yes, I will fundraise, join the PTA, run your computer lab… *comes up for air* 

Wha-a-a–? Really? I just want to send my kid to school. And I want her to like it, and learn a bunch of cool stuff and not get crushed by bullies. I’ll be volunteering as much as I’m able cuz that’s the way I roll, but these parent organizations come at you like pirahnas. It’s a little spooky.

Today is the doctor’s visit. Tomorrow is the 12 page questionairre (not kidding). Maybe then we’ll be done, and the child can go to kindergarten? PLEASE? *whines* I’ve heard there’s a background check to walk on the field for Little League, so who knows what other joys await.

Do any of you with kids remember it being this hard to enroll your kids in everyday activities? Please let me know what I have to look forward to. I’ve got 100 bottles of wine in this house, so bring it on. I’m ready. Enquiring minds need to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

Photo credit: Robert S. Donovan – FlickrCC License 2.0
Posted in Parenting, Thoughty Thursday | Tagged , , , , | 22 Comments

The Almost X-Rated Garage Sale (Part 2)

In the last two weeks, the Hubs and I have engaged in the energy-sapping double-whammy of “garage sale” and “kid party” over back-to-back weekends. The kid party, complete with margaritas and a bounce house, was a blast.

Disney Princess Bounce House Extraordinaire

Disney Princess Bounce House Extraordinaire

The garage sale? Oh, the garage sale…

It’s taken me more than a week to recover from that one. Seriously. I was traumatized.

It wasn’t just the cleaning, although that was enough to throw my back out and send me running to Facebook for back remedies (thanks, y’all).

It wasn’t the manic husband, although he got that MacGyver look in his eyes: Ooooh, a box. I could take back eight square inches of garage floor by selling the contents of this box!

His brother helped him, and he was even more driven: If it is in a box, it is for SALE. My head is down and I will not notice those were my mother’s silver candlesticks, or that these frames have my niece’s baby pictures in them.

I was minding the kid when they finished Friday night, so I never got to review the sale items. Then those two scamps decided to let me sleep in (you know till 7:30 am). They got started two hours before I got out there on Saturday.

Silly, silly me. I should have booby-trapped the freaking front door.

When I opened the front door (before coffee), the first thing my eyes landed on were my mother’s angels. They are sweet ceramic kissing angels that had been packed lovingly in a box until the Little Bean was to the age where she wouldn’t accidentally break them.

Only now they were balanced on a pile of garage sale crap with someone asking me how much they were. That was the first time I said the words that scared the crap out of the men by the end of the day:

“I’m SO sorry. Those are not for sale.”

This was usually followed by a pissed off remark from the customer, mad that I took the (insert family heirloom) off their pile.

I didn’t get to that first cup of coffee till almost 10, and it’s a wonder nobody died.

It was a lo-o-o-ong day.

I have no idea how many heirlooms walked away, but I personally saved the angels, some silver candlesticks, two signed art works, three birthday presents, tons of family photos and some incredibly expensive custom-made items my husband was planning to sell for a buck.

Then there was the X-rated part, which thankfully happened before I woke up. 

Note: Some of you might remember the Almost X-rated Garage Sale thrown by my mother and the Aunties in small-town Missouri. There were no “red covers” involved in my not-so-small-town SoCal garage sale. (Click that link for more on Red Covers.)

However, there was an incident with a box. A personal box, that was clearly labeled “MEOW.”

I didn’t expect to see the MEOW box tucked behind some charcoal on the front porch. I didn’t actually notice it until I got coffee in my hand. (I’d been living under the delusion that this box was tucked into the top of my closet.)

And before we go any further, you should know that I don’t own a cat. I’m allergic to cats.

The MEOW box is the toy box. The single-girl sexy pie box. The box you have your best friend grab and hide in the event of your death. There was no good reason why the MEOW box would be on the front porch.

So this conversation happened:

Me: [Taking deep breaths so as not to take the Hubs’ head off. Again.] *sips coffee* Honey, thanks for saving the MEOW box. I’d have died if anyone like your brother saw that.

Him: I don’t know if my brother saw it. It was chaos this morning. But two Latino men saw it, because one of them asked me how much it was.

Me: *shakes blood back into head* WHAT?

Him: Yes, one of the men waved me over, wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Es for the girls, yes?” I didn’t know what he meant until he started waving one of the vibrators.

Me: He waved— *covers face* Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.

Him: I thanked him, folded up the box and tossed it on the porch. His friend offered me ten bucks for the whole box, but I thought you might want to look in it first.


Him: It’s been a madhouse out here. I don’t think he looked at anything. He just kept unpacking.

Me: I’ll be back in a minute. I need to add some liquor to this coffee.

I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from this garage sale. I do know we won’t be having another one unless I take a more active role. However the Hubs is happy because his garage looked like this when we were done.

Empty Garage

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever bought or sold at a garage sale? Enquiring minds love to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

p.s. Have y’all be tweeting in the month of May with the #ChooseThisDay hashtag?

Also, Jess Witkins and August McLaughlin (GirlBoner) are up for different categories in the Badass Blog Award from Indie Chicks. Click here to vote for them – voting closes tomorrow (May 15)!

Posted in Humor, More Cowbell | Tagged , , , , , | 28 Comments

Make a Difference: “Choose This Day”

This week, we’re switching our More Cowbell Monday with our Thoughty Thursday. I know, I know…I’ve got an Undie Chronicle on deck and today is the day to LAUGH. What about if we laughed about just being alive?

Kathryn Craft’s post at Writers In The Storm today got me thinking, and I’ll bet it does the same for you.

depression, Kathryn Craft

Her latest novel, The Far End of Happy, is based on her first husband’s suicide standoff.

As Kathryn said:

On the day my husband chose death over life, “choose this day” became my mantra. Each day, no matter how sad or horrified or frustrated I felt, I chose life—and with this simple daily act, my sense of empowerment grew.

Read her post about coping when “stormy seas threaten to sink your spirit” and about her May 1st Twitter campaign to #ChooseThisDay: Making a Difference in the World.

TryTodayThe campaign is simple:

Starting May 1st, and throughout the month, tweet an empowering positive message or quote (like this one!) using the #choosethisday hashtag.

What do you think? Are you in?


Posted in Inspiration | Tagged , , , , , | 25 Comments

Why Facebook Cracks Me Up

I get more blog ideas on Facebook than almost anywhere else on the web. Probably it’s because I have stellar friends, but I really think it’s the conversation.

Kitt Crescendo posted a photo to my page for the Undie Chronicles, only I don’t know if there’s enough yarn there to chronicle. It looks like a well-placed sneeze would’ve sent this guy’s junk into the blogosphere. This is a family blog (sort of), so I’m not going to show the photo – click here for that.

They’re charging $18.99 for this thing! That’s “low way” robbery, if you know what I mean…

Evidently I’m in the wrong line of work, because I’m a knitter and I could swear this was made out of no more than a dollar’s worth of yarn. Still, we had a tremendous time chatting about it.

My favorite comments:

  • Oh. Good. Gravy. How….I don’t even know what to say. He’s the shaven yak.
  • MY EYES….MY EYES…they are BURNING!!!!!!
  • I’m sorry, but that just makes me itch.
  • Having a hot flash!!!!!!!
  • What happens if he gets “excited”? I don’t think that yarn with stretch all that far.
  • It’s so small, you almost want to put a pink bow next to it and say “aww how cute…” words no man wants to hear about their junk

And finally, these two Buzzfeed videos.

I could get lost in BuzzFeed’s YouTube channel all day long, but the “Try Guys” are my favorite. They will try anything, even drag (as you can see below). Best quotes of the entire video:

  • All of the unrepeatables from these guys trying to tuck in their manly parts.
  • No “daughter” of mine is going to do drag in flats.

Oh, and the glue sticks. I had no idea drag queens were making such a run on glue sticks.

I don’t know about you, but I had a hard time deciding on my favorite queen. They were all so brazen and fearless. And Eugene, the Asian man, shaved more of his body than I do. I’m just sayin…

Here’s some misheard lyrics to round out your Monday:

The hubs does this all the time. His most notable is from Take It Easy by the Eagles: “I’m looking for a lover who won’t blow my brother. She’s so-oh hard to find…

And Daven Anderson sings Elton John:

♫ “She’s got electric boobs,
and Moe has food.
You know I read it in a Pakistani novel,
B-B-B Bennie and the Jets.” ♫

What’s your favorite misheard lyric? Would you ever wear any of that crazy knitted underwear? Do you like drag shows? Enquiring minds LOVE to know these things here at More Cowbell!

Now I’m back to Writing Up a Storm over on Facebook!

~ Jenny

Posted in Humor, Social Media | Tagged , , , , | 31 Comments

Undie Chronicles, Vol. 28b: End Undie Discrimination!

Those of you who are new to More Cowbell might have missed The Undie Chronicles. The regular posse here knows: When the Undie-verse speaks, we will always listenI had no idea when this began that there were so many hilarious undie-based topics to discuss. Plus it’s Monday, and I like a good Monday belly laugh.

This post is a follow-up to February’s Undie Chronicles post about the U.S. Patent and Trade Office thinking the American public is too puritanical to embrace the word, “ComfyBalls.” (See below.)

I call, “Foul!”

ComfyBalls - Immoral

You can click here if you want to add your vote (and I recommend you DO). The site is called Fight For Your Balls and, whether you’ve got ’em or not, this is about discrimination more than the actual “man sack.”

Why can Duluth Trading Company have “Ballroom Jeans” (which my guy says are super-cozy) here in the U.S. and this Norwegian company can’t sell ComfyBalls? Duluth can sell the “Crouch without the Ouch” slogan, but ComfyBalls has to sell in the U.S. with naming conventions like “McBalls.”


If you plan to fight this discriminatory practice, here’s a tweet from a ComfyBalls evangelist, Allan, showing you the hashtags for the cause.

Allan also says:

Another @ observation: their “RHT” (”reduced heat transfer”) is no BS; compared to my usual underwear, feel 10x less sweaty now.

[I don’t know that I want to know that much about what’s in Allan’s pants, but the internet is about sharing information, right?]

Besides spreading the “Undie Word,” y’all can go vote on alternate names for these Illegal Underpants!

ComfyBalls - Suggestion


There are tons of suggestions already at Fight For Your Balls. Here are the ones I split my sides over:

  • SackShack
  • Free Willy
  • E.Y.B. (Embrace Your Balls)
  • Great Balls of Fire
  • Cool Beans
  • ManHammocks
  • ScrotelMotel
  • Hot Rocks
  • ROAR

My opinion? They should just stick with the original (awesome!) name, or call it ComfyB*lls if they must be politically correct on this.

What is your opinion? Do you have a favorite “alternate name?” Enquiring minds LOVE to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

Posted in Humor, Undie Chronicles | Tagged , , , , , | 24 Comments

Easter–A Time of Love, Greed and Glory


I’m just gonna confess it: growing up in my house, Easter was about greed and glory. Easter was about decorating some crazy-awesome eggs, better than anything your sibling could ever hope to achieve.

Easter was about THE GOLDEN EGG.

Just a bit of history: Growing up in a divorced family, I had double the holidays. It kind of rocked. Even though most things could be duplicated, there were a few favorite holidays that the parents staked a claim to. For my mom, it was Thanksgiving and for my dad, it was Easter.

He made every Easter memorable. He made The Golden Egg a thing of glory (and greed).

You won’t understand the importance of this egg if I don’t first tell you that I am the youngest (and only blond) child in a dark-haired family of giants.

My older brother, known here at More Cowbell as the Bag Whore, was a six foot behemoth in the 6th grade. That dude had feet like gunboats and the wingspan of an albatross. I was never gonna be bigger, faster or taller. But by golly, I was always the quicker child when it came to anything related to words.

Back in the day my dad had to PAY that boy to read. I believe the going rate was ten cents per page. That little manipulator made a couple bucks every week doing what I loved doing for free.

This bartering for pages irked me and every year I got my revenge on Easter.

I’d arrive at my dad’s house on Good Friday and on Saturday morning we’d break out all the egg decorating gear. My brother and I would get busy on our own dozen eggs and we’d help my dad with half of his dozen. Our eggs could be any color except gold.

There was only one golden egg per year and it belonged to my father. He’d usually make a few test eggs before he hit his stride so his golden egg would be a glowing, velvety sun.

The rules on Easter morning:

  • Open the bedroom door and dig through Easter basket.
  • Find the magic piece of paper that told us which part of the house or yard was our “egg hunt territory” that year.
  • Hunt eggs in our zone and (hopefully) find all 12 eggs, along with the chocolate, jelly beans and the $10 that had been tucked around them.

Note: $10 was a LOT back in the 70’s and early 80’s. This was serious incentive.

After breakfast, the Golden Egg Ceremony opened with my dad presenting an original poem to my brother and I. Year after year, he came up with some creative rhyme about where the vaunted golden egg might be found. (For an economics professor, this was damned impressive.)

And he didn’t pick pitiful or slouchy places for the magic egg. He hid that thing well out of sight, usually behind at least one door, and nearly always covered up.


  • One year it was folded up inside a yellow tablecloth in the linen closet.
  • Another year it was in a gold colored glass Pyrex in the back of the refrigerator.
  • A different year it was in an amber color highball glass up in the china cabinet.

Perhaps I remember THE GOLDEN EGG with such clarity all these years later because there was another $10 hidden with it. Perhaps I remember it because my dad behaved so out of character with his catchy little poems.

Most likely, I remember it perfectly because the Bag Whore NEVER won.

He was frustrated, year after year, because his baby sister (future writer) understood the siren song of words at an early age and snatched that egg out from under his nose every year.

One year he started following me around in an effort to elbow me aside and pilfer the prize from the high places that only he could reach. However, my father thwarted these efforts, understanding that the quest for the Golden Egg should remain pure.

Somehow he understood that the little golden-haired gladiator who heard the song of his poem should prevail, at least on that particular day of the year.

May your Easter traditions remain pure and full of fun… May you add in plenty of chocolate for the Trifecta of Awesome.

Do you celebrate Easter? If so, how? What were your favorite holiday traditions growing up? Do you have any egg recipes to share? Enquiring minds always want to know these things here at More Cowbell!


Photo credit: Pekka Nikrus – FlickrCC License 2.0
Posted in Holidays | Tagged , , , , | 22 Comments

A Thank You Note to My Heart (Seriously)

Heart Health

Yesterday, I saw my heart in action. My beautiful, heroic, gorgeously fluttering mitral valve. And that pulmonary valve of perfection in the chamber next door.

Now before you wonder if I’ve gone wiggy in the head from the cooties in my house, I went to the cardiologist yesterday (I’m fine) and they fit me into the schedule for the ultrasound/stress test deal where you get to see your heart from every angle.

I tell you, science kicks some major ass, to be able to do all that in under 30 minutes.

But to really understand why this was so exciting for me, you should know that in 2005 my handy heart valves protected my brain from about 50 blood clots.

Yep, you heard me. FIFTY. Ish.

Here’s the quickie version:

  • In 2005, I developed blood clots in both legs, one of which shattered, sending a shower of blood clots to my lungs (thanks to those vivacious valves).
  • No one tells you this, but blood clots freaking hurt. They’re unnatural little buggers that hang out in unusual places and behave in bizarre ways. However, the doctors promise you the pain will go away in 6-8 weeks.
  • The pain in my lungs didn’t go away, so at about 11 weeks I went to a pulmonologist to find out “WTH!”

Enter Dr. Ramisetti, a fabulous doctor with a soft voice and a fantasic Indian accent. [My internal dialogue is in pink.]

Dr. R: The two CAT scans of your lungs are very, very dramatic.

Me: [WTF?! Dramatic can NOT be good.] Um, dramatic how, exactly?

Dr. R: The first one was dramatic for how many, many blood clots you had. The second one was dramatic for how quickly they decreased.

Me: [Huh.] How many blood clots are we talking about here?

Dr. R: Oh, many many.

Me: [Holy Mother of God. I thought there were like two.] So, like 10?

Dr. R: Oh, many, many more.

Me: *My guy and I are making shocky faces at each other* A hundred??

Dr. R: Maybe less.

So the Hubs-to-be and I are reeling because we had no idea. Nobody tells you these things at the time, and in hindsight I think it’s better that way. I was scared enough without having that “maybe less than a hundred freaking blood clots” music in my head.

I settled on 50  as the magic total whenever I talk about it. “Fifty” is a nice round number and frankly, going any higher makes my stomach feel squinchy. Here’s the basic story, in case you’re unfamiliar with my blood clot surprise.

Anywho, yesterday was the first time I’d ever seen my heart work in all it’s red pumpy glory. Really, I was wildly impressed. That’s one heck of an impressive muscle, especially that four-piece band called the mitral valve.

I asked the technician which part kept the clots out of my heart and brain and she said, “mitral.” Hence this ode.

Mitral Valve

Artificial mitral valve makes location easy to see

I’d never grasped the nitty-gritty details of the heart before.  For instance, I didn’t know the mitral valve was on the bottom, or that it is the gatekeeper that kept my heart (and brain) safe when the too-many-to-count shower of death clots came barreling through. Or that the pulmonary valve whisked all those suckers straight out of there and into my lungs.

Trust me, y’all, if you’ve got to have the clots, down in the legs or in the lungs is where you want them. Yes, they hurt (for a really, super long time) but I’m ALIVE.

Thank you, my magical mitral…you marvelous, mind-blowing mensch of a valve. And also to you, my passionate pulmonary powerhouse. I owe y’all at least 50 thank you’s.

Which body part do you give the most thanks to, and why? Enquiring minds love to know these things here at More Cowbell!

~ Jenny

p.s. If you need some magical, lyrical writing inspiration click over to Kimberly Brock’s post, “You, Storytellers of the Blue World.”

Mitral valve photo courtesy of Patrick J. Lynch – Flickr – CC License 2.0.
Top photo courtesy of Emmanuel Huybrechts – Flickr – CC License 2.0.
Posted in Health, Thoughty Thursday | Tagged , , , , | 43 Comments

Kilt Videos That Flipped My Humor Skirt Up (IYKWIM)

Kilt_ReginaDavanWe believe in starting the week here with a gigantic belly laugh, so take a moment to go potty, shoo your kids out, put down that beverage and strap in for the ride.

[Disclaimer: There are cooties all over my house, so I might be a bit punchy today.

In general, I’m a huge “Just For Laughs – Gags” fan, and the first several of these gym pranks had me crying with laughter. Consider those your bonus for the day.]

My sister put this video on my Facebook timeline and I’ve sent it on to TONS of people because the faces on all parties involved are hilarious.

But if you’re really “just here for the kilts,” I bring you “Storm Trooper Love.” Awwww.

What flipped your laughter switch this weekend? And who else can feel Spring  finally poking its head around the corner? (Love it!) Enquiring minds here at More Cowbell always  want to hear what’s going on in your world!

~ Jenny 

p.s. for Writers: If you’ve ever wondered “what’s what” with book genres, Chuck Sambuchino is telling all at Writers In The Storm today!

Photo credit: Regina Davan – FlickrCC License 2.0
Posted in Humor, More Cowbell | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments