• Cherry Pop-Tarts
• Fruit by the Foot
• Fruit Roll-Ups
• Spaghettios
• Cinnamon Toast Crunch
• Count Chocula
• Miracle Whip on white bread (it’s true)
• Kraft macaroni and cheese
  . 

 .

No wonder kids lose all their teeth. It’s not to make room for new permanent teeth, it’s because our diet is made completely up of sugar, salt, and nitrates. My mouth rebelled against me (along with the rest of my body). Good thing I ran around like an ape with ADHD 23 hours a day as a youngin’. Without my incessant need to constantly be running around catching snakes and toads, I would have weighed somewhere north of 200 pounds by the fourth grade.

I’m watching an exclusive interview with Piers Morgan and Motley Crue, and I’ve made a startling discovery:

.

.

Mick Mars is:  Emperor Palpatine.

.

.

Am I right? Let’s take another look.

Mick Mars….?
.
.
…..or Emperor Palpatine?
.
 .
I smell an identity theft case.

People need to stop shortening words. It’s not cute. It’s nauseating and stupid. SO STUPID! This includes, but is not limited to, “Presh, gorge, fab, adorbs, totes, fave, probs,” and “ridic.”  Yesterday I was reading reviews on a pair of boots, and this is the atrocity I came across:
.

.

I had a half a mind to report it as inappropriate. Are you kidding me? Even the busiest person in the world has enough time to avoid looking like a stupid ass. This needs to stop.

Nicole Scherzinger needs to bury herself alive. At first I thought her mouthwatering good looks were enough to float her along, but this has just gone too far. Everything that comes out of her mouth on The X Factor is pointless, annoying, and retarded. Also, her dramatic faux emotions? Ugh. Stop pretending to be moved, stop crying, stop being a douche, Nicole. As a side note, as much as I love Marcus Canty, Rachel Crow earned her place in this competition with her save-me song. You suck, Scherzinger.
.

 .

Well, I’m going to go digest my tacos. Remember that we are now in a new prize period! The next winner will be drawn on Sunday, December 18th. To become eligible for the drawings, all you have to do is 1) be subscribed to Sheppard’s Pie, and 2) leave a comment or forty!  (Find out more here: PRIZES!) Every comment you leave puts your name in the drawing for the next prize, which is a totally bitchin’ convenient and brilliant invention: the union of the cozy mitten plus an ice scraper to help make your morning car-scraping ritual a little less painful this winter.

That’s right, folks. Be in it to win it.

Thanks for stopping by.

__________________________________________________________________

“Nick’s roommate pulled the ol ‘slam your beer bottle on top of someone else’s beer to make it fizz up’ (mine) and like a jack ass, I stuck my thumb in it to make it spray everywhere in a retaliation attempt, which was great. Then I looked down and noticed glass sticking out of my thumb and blood was everywhere. The joke, once again, was on me.”

-Cole

. 

Just this morning I said, “It’s about that time of year again….that time of year where I get sick.”  Not three hours later, I find myself sniffling, sneezing, and moaning with the oncoming symptoms of an annoying cold. I am rather stuffed up over here. Also, my noggin is a poundin’, and my energy is at a bare minimum. On top of that, I can’t seem to heat up my body no matter what I do. I just put a sheet of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and I had to stop myself from crawling right on in there to get toasty. I feel like doing nothing but merely existing on my couch in my sweat pants with tissues dangling from my nostrils, watching What Not To Wear.

That show has got me by the balls. I forgot how great it was. Are these people serious? Some of these individuals need electroshock therapy because of the things they’ve been wearing. I just watched an episode where this woman wore nothing but turtle items. Turtle everything. Shirts with turtles on them, giant gaudy turtle necklaces, turtle pants, turtle bracelets—and on top of all this turtle paraphernalia, she wore Crocs and mens cargo shorts. Bad.
.

. 

I’m glad I avoided living in a generation where people still used folding paper road maps to navigate their way through the world. I have been lucky enough to be blessed in the era of Map Quest, quickly evolving into Google Maps directions, then the invention of the GPS, followed by turn-by-turn navigation on my smart phone. Thank God. Can you imagine having to try to use a map the size of a table cloth whilst driving throughout a busy city trying to locate a Bank of America? Big creases through entire cities, ketchup stains on toll road signs, rips through the legend. What a nightmare. Mapping and driving is more dangerous than texting and driving. I am so happy to be able to just fire up the ol’ cell phone and say, “Send me to Omaha, Phone,” and it does. It just does.

….Droid. Droid does. You get it.
.

. 

I wish for someone to purchase me Hungry, Hungry Hippos for Christmas. I truly love that game. I also loved that game where the little fish went around the circular “pond” chomping their teeth together, and you had this tiny little fishing rod of sorts to catch them with. Memories. It’d be funny if they replaced the hippos in the game with really hungry people like Nicole Richie and Kate Moss and Mary-Kate Olsen. Except then the balls that the hippos chomp after wouldn’t be balls, they’d be diet pills.

Never mind.

SO, this week I will finally be returning to the glorious Midwest for the holidays. I can’t wait to see my fellow Council Bluffians and be a little irresponsible while donning Christmas sweaters on the reg. WHEW! I trust you all have delightful holiday plans this year. If not, maybe this will brighten your day:

I will be holding the next drawing on Sunday, December 18!

The next prize iiiiiis:
.

.

This fantastic invention in which the classic puffy warm mitten meets the windshield ice scraper in a glorious marriage, keeping your extremities toasty while you scrape snow off your car in the frosty mornings this winter. The actual scraper-glove I’m giving away is even cooler than the one pictured above. This is a fantastic invention. To become eligible for prize drawings, all you have to do is 1) be subscribed to Sheppard’s Pie by email, and 2) leave comments! Every comment you leave puts your name into the drawing. Good luck!

Time to go. Bye now.

__________________________________________________________________

B:   When do you think we’ll be hungry enough to eat our dessert?

A:   I hope soon.

.

………

CHRIS DIEZ

&

CLAY CUNNINGHAM

!!!!!!!!
.

 .

Congratulations, you wascally wabbits. Email your mailing address to beccaxsheppard@gmail.com and I will have these in the mail tomorrow. ENJOY!

To the rest of you losers, I will have the next drawing within two weeks. The new prize period starts immediately after this post. To become eligible for the next drawing, leave a comment or forty! Let the games begin.

__________________________________________________________________

“I love how cute these is!”

(Puzzled look).

“Oh my god.”

..

…

….

…..

…..

…….

……..

………

………..

………….

………………

……………………..

BONNIE BLUE NOEL!

Step right up and claim your prize! Send your mailing address to beccaxsheppard@gmail.com and then start rubbing your palms together with anticipation until it arrives in the mail!

To the rest of you who totally lost, I have another surprise:

.

.

“What could it be, Becca!?!??!?!”

Because I’m feeling extra joyful due to the holiday season, I’m giving TWO MORE lucky winners a chance to win the Christmas CDs! That’s called “Bi-Winning” by Charlie Sheen. Everyone who was in the first drawing pool is still qualified, but so is anyone who comments before the drawing.

SECOND CHANCE SUNDAY!

I will be doing second chance drawing for the other two winners on Sunday at 9PM central day light time. 

Congratulations Bonnie, and good luck to everyone else on the second chance drawing!

SO, I’m too anxious to hold on to this prize any longer, so I’m going to hold the drawing tomorrow (Thursday) night at 8:00 PM central daylight time.  WHO’S IT GONNA BE!?!?

If you aren’t in the drawing yet, it’s not too late! Become eligible for prizes by:

1)   Subscribing to Sheppard’s Pie

&

2)   Leaving comments! Every comment you leave puts your name in the drawing each time.

If you’re already eligible, up your chances by leaving a few more comments. Everyone wins. Me, you, Santa—everyone.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year,

Switzer Claus

__________________________________________________________________

I mean, oh, hey you guys. Sap?

Anyway, I trust you all had a filling Thanksgiving. I sure did. If you’re like most gluttonous Americans, you’re probably still digesting pecan pie and green bean casserole, and will be until Boxing Day. Trent and I whipped up a pretty braggable feast, and for all of you who were wondering if I could pull it off, I did successfully make a DELIGHTFUL sweet potato pie. In fact, it was such a hit that I am making two more this week. I should probably start jogging.

It’s really weird to me that female dogs have periods. Like….that’s not very fair. It’s not like they can just stick a tampon up there and take care of business. I’ve only ever owned male dogs, and I intend to keep it that way. I’m not interested in having an emotional, PMSing canine bleeding all over my living room, watching Lady & The Tramp, leaving empty ice cream pints on the coffee table five days a month. Slap a Kotex on that bitch.

I’m really pissed about people who are famous for having things like the “longest hair in the world” or the “longest nails in the world.” It’s so stupid. Having the longest (also see: most disgusting) fingernails in the world does not make you rich. It doesn’t make you more attractive, more desirable, envied, or of a higher social status. It just makes you gross. Cut your nails. They’re not making you any money.  “But I’m famous!!!”  You also can’t eat with a fork or wipe your ass. Cut your nails.
. 

.
CUT THEM!!!!

WELL, that’s about it for today. If you haven’t already, make sure you subscribe to Sheppard’s Pie (see right margin of the site to subscribe) and then start leaving comments in order to put yourself into the drawing for this month’s prize drawing!

(See more here: http://beccasheppard.wordpress.com/prizes/ )

This month I’m going to be sending one lucky reader a nice compilation of the rockin’est Christmas jingles you’ve ever heard, plus a few other Christmas surprises. Woo! None of those surprises is poop, I promise. Each comment you leave puts your name into the drawing. See the previous post for details! GOOD LUCK, LADS!

By the way, everyone. I know thankful is spelled “thankful.” It was a play on words. I am very “full” after Thanksgiving. Sigh. Don’t ever second guess my grammar like that again, or you’re OUT.

Toodles.

__________________________________________________________________

B:   “An apple a day keeps the STDs away!”

S:   “I wish I woulda known that in college. I would’ve eaten ‘em by the bushel!” 

.

THE QUALIFICATIONS!!!

In order for your name to be drawn, there are two requirements:

1) First, you must be subscribed to Sheppard’s Pie.
“Will SuBsCriBiNg mAke m3 gEt a BuncH of sPaM???  i h8 gEttiNg jUnK mAiL!!!111″   F-ck no. Being subscribed simply means you receive the post directly into your email when a new one is published.

2) Since there is no physical hat filled with shreds of paper with peoples’ names on it for me to pull a winner out of, I will be drawing names off of comments on posts.  In order for your name to be drawn, you must have commented on a post during that period of time in between drawings. Each time you comment, your name is put in the metaphorical “hat!” Pretty easy. 

.

.

Bribes. Who doesn’t love them?

The prize for the first drawing will be a personalized CD or CDs of my favorite Christmas jingles. You’ll be rockin’ around the Christmas tree and craving figgy pudding like you wouldn’t believe once you fire these tunes up in the car. Watch out: lots of Christmas cheer inside. If you don’t like Christmas carols or you’re black and celebrate Kwanzaa, you’ll have to re-gift. Sorry. There may also be baked goods involved. WE’LL SEE!!! The drawing period starts now! If you haven’t subscribed, you can click “Subscribe” in the column on the right hand side of the home page. Then leave as many comments as you want to become eligible! Good luck, lads.

Other prizes to look forward to will include things like gift cards, DVDs, posters, trinkets, t-shirts, one hundred dollar bills (yeah right), all sorts of booty. They’ll be fun. FUN times.

WELL, enjoy your Thanksgiving feasts, kids. I’ll be doubling my body weight if you need me.

__________________________________________________________________

“Thanks for all the birthday wishes, pretty damn good birthday, ran a 5k this morning too! Just kidding, I threw up in a sink.”
- Chris Diez 

.

My eyelids are itching like Ke$ha’s crotch on a Saturday morning. Yesterday I treated myself to some nice amethyst colored eyeshadow, and today I am paying the consequences. You see, I have green eyes, and purple is really a great color for them. I religiously wore violet eyeliner for nearly two years, but had been simultaneously struggling with a weird eye infection. For several months, my eyelids had been swollen, red, irritated, and itchy. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Eventually it was so bad, I couldn’t wear any eye makeup besides mascara. After a few days of not wearing eyeliner period, my eye irritation went away. I went back to bedazzling my eyelids, and the crazy swollen eye came back. As it turns out, I am allergic specifically to purple dye in makeups. This is very irritating. Allergic to purple? How does this happen. Anyway, my eyelids are freaking out today. I’m regretting my rebellion against my biology.

.

.

Why is it when you pick up a greeting card off of the shelf at the store, its proper place completely vanishes from sight. Suddenly you can’t find where it goes. At all. Where the f-ck did this birthday card come from? you wonder, completely flabbergasted. You’ve engaged in an involuntary game of Where’s Waldo, except in this case “Waldo” is a birthday card that sings “I’m too sexy for my hair.” The cards go Houdini on your ass, just like that. It’s like you pick up the card, and in the few short seconds it takes you to read it, the rest of the cards play musical chairs and the slot that it came from goes MIA. Next thing you know, you’re stuffing “Happy 30th Birthday” behind “Sorry for your loss.” No one’s the wiser.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I’m going to be trying my hand in the kitchen. This pie is going to be a big win for me if I succeed. I love sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes are the elixir of my life. I hope this pie rocks. If it does, I’ll be bragging until Christmas. Then I’ll make it for Christmas, and I’ll be bragging until next Thanksgiving. It’s the circle of life.

.

^ Some weird guy.

.

My dog is dropping fart bombs like Nagasaki. If I didn’t know he loved me so much, I would begin to suspect that he was trying to pull an Auschwitz and gas me to death. It’s just one after another. His bowels are relentless. I wish he would just take a poop and get it over with. I’ve taken him out twice since this fart-fest has begun, and he trots around for a minute and resists the poop. JUST DROP THE DEUECE, RALEIGH!!!! Stop resisting nature.

Well, I wish I had more things to share with you nice boys and girls, but I just don’t have anything else to say. So….I guess….I guess that’s it.

FOR YOUR HEALTH!

__________________________________________________________________

C:   I keep singing Adele outloud.

B:   Who doesn’t.

C:   I want to carry her voice with me in my pocket at all times. And take it out whenever I want to hear it.  I just invented the iPod.

Just kidding. I am sorry. I have dropped the ball and bored all of you readers who rely on this blog to make it through your shitty days at the office or your unstimulating college courses five days a week. Allow me to redeem myself. Nobody’s perfect, you guys.

ANYway, a lot has happened since the last time I blogged. I went shopping with Katie Holmes, I totaled my car, adopted a kitten, and was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Just kidding. My car still sucks, I hate cats, and I’m healthy as a horse. I’m not kidding about the Katie Holmes part though. My good friend (yeah right, she’s a bitch) Alison and I were shopping in Southside, and who did we find ourselves shopping right alongside but Katie Holmes. Literally like right next to. Like, we could have touched her. Good thing we didn’t though, because there were two or three body guards roaming around pretending to be shoppers who would have electrocuted us with cattle prodders had we even looked at her queer.

.

.

I’ve done a lot of clothes-buying this month. It’s bad. I moved out here to Pennsylgaynia this spring with like two shirts and a pair of pants (not kidding). Then suddenly I decided I needed more clothes since I left 98% of my wardrobe back in Iowa, so I “spruced up” the ol’ wardrobe. Actually I replaced my whole wardrobe. Meh. That’s what money’s for, right? I have a really hard time refusing autumn and winter wear, you guys. Sweaters, cardigans, jeans, boots, mittens, coats—IT’S SO GREAT!!!!! Anyway, I need to be invited to a bunch of parties and dinners and happy hours to show them all off now. Send invitations to 403 YEAH RIGHT LIKE I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU STALKERS MY ADDRESS!!!!!!

I’m out of control.

.

.

So the holidays are HERE! I’m very excited. I am deeply saddened however that I will not be spending Thanksgiving at my parents’ house, being a glutton and stuffing my body with mountainous heaps of Thanksgiving fare.  :-(   If I were back in glorious Iowa, I would currently be sitting at the kitchen table, blaring the Charlie Brown Christmas CD, chugging quarts of gravy, and consuming baked goods at an alarming rate. Oh boy. I have been whistling Anne Murray songs whilst traipsing up and down the grocery aisles, spreading Christmas cheer everywhere I go. I LOVE THE HOLIDAYS!

I’ve been using a lot of caps loc and exclamation points during this post. This is what happens when I let blogs build up inside me like this. Sorry for frightening those with heart conditions and/or pregnant or nursing women.

Anyway, since I am not going to be enjoying a Thanksgiving feast at the Sheppard residence this year, Trent and I are going to whip up some food ourselves. Granted, it won’t lay a finger on my mother’s gravy, but it’s better than eating Velveeta Shells & Cheese in celebration of the holiday. Our menu includes the following:

• Pheasant green bean casserole (….Trent went hunting last week)
• Chestnut stuffing
• Sweet potato pie
• Mashed potatoes
• Whatever else is on sale

__________________________________________________________________

T:   “I don’t think I want the dog getting on the bed anymore.”

B:   “Why!?!”

T:   “Because, babe. I watched him step in his own poop today. He stepped in his own poop.”

I guess you could always do what Lady Gaga does, and secure your phone to your head.

.

I’m not recommending it though.

..

.

So many things accumulate in one’s purse. When you first get a new handbag, you put just the bare necessities in it. You feel so pleased that everything is so neat. You simply have your keys, your wallet, your phone, a camera, chapstick, a pen, and a pair of sunglasses. Then a month later there’s deodorant, compact powder makeup, eleven pens, fourteen dollars in change, dog treats, lip gloss, perfume, a cold french fry, wadded up receipts, lotion, movie ticket stubs, Tylenol, crumbs, candy wrappers, free-floating pieces of gum, plastic silverware, water bottles, multiple pairs of sunglasses, babies, rodents. The list goes on. Really the only solution to this issue is buying a new purse. Cleaning it out is not an option. You simply must purchase a new handbag, and hand-pick the items out of your old purse that you wish to transfer into the new purse. The “necessities.” And so begins the cycle once again.

.

.

I woke up today to snow falling. I was ecstatic. Two hours later after I emerged from my office building, the snow had quickly accumulated. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of white, and the snow continued to fall heavily. Out came the Christmas music, immediately. I jovially chimed along with “Sleigh Bells” and “Jingle Bell Rock” in my car, dancing and stuffing Dove milk chocolate into my pie-hole all the while. This is what I typically do in celebration of the coming winter months. It’s really the only way to appropriately ring in the frosty weather.

WELL, I would write about more stuff, except that I can’t locate my phone (ironically), and all my blogging ideas are on it. So…….sorry. Bye.

____________________________________________________________

B:   “What color towels are you going to get?”

A:   “I like the yellow….and I also like the red. I think I’m going to get McDonald’s colors.”