My husband is a philanthropist!  I know, you probably already figured that out since he’s married to me.

That’s not the only charitable thing he’s done.  He does more!

He recently launched a non-profit group for a film festival.

20130731082359-sham_logo_square__1_Not that kind of “film.”  Why are my readers such pervs? (I love you guys for it.)

The Sham Film Festival is my husband’s non-profit that will take place in April 2014.  The goal of the Sham Film Festival is simple: to bring together a group of talented filmmakers (amateur, professional, student, weekender, whatever) and watch as they mock, spoof and satirize everything from reality TV shows to misleading movie trailers.

Sounds both fun and hilarious, correct?

Well so is this little promo video you should watch about it.   You will laugh and then be compelled to donate.   Even if you don’t laugh, please donate.

After you watch the video, read below to find out what’s in it for you.

What’s in it for you?  It’s tax deductible!  It’s a federally registered 501c(3) non-profit, so you can deduct the donation on your taxes.


This guy really wants you to donate. He will be sad if you don’t. Please don’t let him down. Hasn’t he suffered enough being married to me?

As if that isn’t enough, if you donate $10 or more, you will get a sweet bumper sticker. This is an offer just for you guys, my dear readers.

Yeah, that’s huge.

You don’t have to put it on your bumper.  You can put it up at work or tape it to your boobs and wear it as a t-shirt.  You know what?  If you donate $50 or more, you’ll get a t-shirt.  If you donate more than $50 I will give you something super awesome that’s related.

Mind = blown.

How will I know you donated?  Leave me a note in the comments after you’ve donated or send me an email at  I will double check (not that I think you’re a liar) and then I will get your info and send you your prize!

SIMPLE! So get to watching and get to donating, and get to sharing.  Please feel free to share this post and/or video with everyone you know.

Do it for me.  Do it for Matt.  Do it for ‘Merica!


most annoying things about grocery shoppingUnfortunately, there are some unpleasant tasks that come with being a woman and grocery shopping is at the top of the list.  It’s accompanied by waxing and listening to your 4th grader practice his recorder for three consecutive hours.

I will never view hot cross buns the same ever again.

Shopping for groceries is one of the worst things on my to-do list, and I always avoid it if possible.  However, my husband is beginning to suspect I may not be allergic to the metal on the shopping carts, so I’ve had to step up my trips to the store.

photo credit: Hindrik S via photopin cc

photo credit: Hindrik S via photopin cc

I know I can’t be alone in my hatred of the grocery store (or “market” for those of you who shop at the fancy establishment that bags your groceries for you.)

Here are a few reasons I despise the grocery store.  Hopefully you can relate.  If not, please buy me a membership to a personal shopper program.  I hate bagging my own groceries.

1.  The picky shopper picking produce.

Who cares if it’s bruised?  Do you know what else is bruised?  My head from hitting it against the wall waiting for you to pick the right peach. You’re not picking a mate for life, you’re picking produce.  Choose some and go.

2.  Shin-bruises from the shopping cart.

photo credit: Robert S. Donovan via photopin cc

photo credit: Robert S. Donovan via photopin cc

I hurry through the store attempting to make the torture as short as possible, and in doing so I typically hit my shins on the bottom bar of the shopping cart.  I can only assume that bar is put there for the sole purpose of making my shopping experience even worse.

3.  I turn into the plant from Little Shop of Horrors.

I resist the urge to belt out “Feed me, Seymour” as I stockpile 100 calories packs.  You can eat five of those for a nice snack, right?

4.  They frown upon snacking mid-shopping.

photo credit: omgponies2 via photopin cc

photo credit: omgponies2 via photopin cc

If I’m going to shop I need sustenance to get through the trip.  If I’m surrounded by food, why wouldn’t I down a bag of chips and a Diet Coke?  I will (shamefully) place the empty containers on the conveyor belt so I don’t steal anything.  However, I take the judgmental stares for free.

5.  Getting judging looks from the bakery department when I take free samples.

Although I don’t have kids, I don’t think I should be discriminated against by not getting an appropriate amount of free samples.  After all, my muffin top suggests I’ve given birth to at least 3 children.

Who knows?  Maybe they’re in the cart on the other side of the store (preferably with an adult watching them.)

So hand over the cookies.  Would it kill the bakery worker to hook me up with a macadamia nut cookie?

Apparently it would.

There you have it; some of the many reasons I dislike going to the grocery store.  I assume you agree, and we can commiserate together.  If not, please leave your email address and I will send you my grocery list.

photo credit: SplodgusMaximus via photopin cc

photo credit: SplodgusMaximus via photopin cc

Okay, maybe the second part of that title isn’t true in the sense that you’re thinking.  I won’t be on TV for Nickelodeon. The first part of the title is totally true.  Marc Summers should absolutely look out for me. I’ve got a Double Dare I think he will like.

Now back to me.

For some insane reason, I’m now one of the writers for  It’s run by Nickelodeon (obviously) and I am now a contributing writer to them. Cool, huh?

Yes, I know I’m not a mom, but that’s the part that’s so cool.  I’m so good they wanted me even though I’m not a mom.  I’m pretty much in high demand after that video interview with Wendi McLendon-Covey.

None of that about being in high demand is true, but if you believe it, then I should also tell you I weigh 110 pounds and have the singing voice of an angel.

I'm as excited as this guy! photo credit: Vaughan via photopin cc

I’m as excited as this guy!
photo credit: Vaughan via photopin cc

My posts for NickMom will be short and hilarious.  Here’s my first post over there.  Please go to the link below and show NickMom that you love me and that I should eventually take over the network and run all things Nickelodeon.

I can then move on to MTV.  I don’t want to shoot to high at the beginning.

Did you know Nickelodeon is owned by the same company that owns MTV?

Yeah, I totally knew that too.

photo credit: thecreatrus via photopin cc

photo credit: thecreatrus via photopin cc

Seriously though, go to this link and read the list of my 9 suggested ways to answer a telemarketer phone call.  It’s funny and you’ll learn something too. After all, isn’t that what Nickelodeon is all about? (Cue inspirational music and video of a shooting star.)

Don’t make me beg. Check out this link so Nickelodeon doesn’t fire me after one post.  I suspect I’ll mess this gig up on my own.

Note to self:  Don’t cuss on Nickelodeon.  After all, You Can’t Do That On Television.

Yeah, I totally went there.

Now you need to go here.

And seriously Marc Summers.  Watch yourself.


arrows up

Matt and Lisa on the trail

Before we got too sweaty from our hike.

My husband and I are in Seattle for a mini vacation. He was smart enough to know my head would explode if I remained in the bowels of St. Louis much longer, so he planned this trip.  I suspect it’s because he knows I love Starbucks and Frasier, both of which are located here.

So far, I haven’t found Frasier’s apartment, but we still have a few more days.  (Now that I’m in Seattle, I really do hear the blues a callin’, tossed salad and scrambled eggs.)

Since we are lazy and getting fat from all the food and alcohol nature lovers, we decided to go for a hike on one of the many trails in Seattle.  I scoured the internet for the easiest trail I could find and off we went in our sweet rental car.

Did I upgrade to the 2013 Hyundai Elantra because I’m a baller?  Yes, yes I did.

While on the hike, my husband gave some great insight into the sights and sounds around us.  It started when we came upon this lovely old shack.

The B52s were nowhere to be found.

The B52s were nowhere to be found.

Instead of commenting on the beauty of the building, my husband commented on it by stating “And that’s where the rapes happen.  It’s like the love shack, but a lot darker.”

I will never be able to listen to that song again.

After I recovered from his…ahem…insightful comment, we continued the walk and found a small waterfall where we stopped to take a photo.  As we were leaving, we noticed a beautiful bench carved out of wood.

Walking up to admire the handiwork, my husband saw this and made the following comment:

This is why we need to continue teaching cursive in schools.

This is why we need to continue teaching cursive in schools.

That Daniel is a real dick.”

Yes, yes he is.

We then proceeded to continue down the trail where I ultimately had to water some of the plants in the woods.  I’m such a humanitarian.  That has nothing to do with the story, but I felt compelled to share it with you.

Sidenote:  Don’t slam two bottles of water and a Starbucks coffee before going on a nature walk.

As we continued on our hike, my dear husband commented on the beauty of the trees.  “Isn’t it cool how the trees are so tall and go up and then umbrella out with branches at the top?

Look at that umbrella.

Look at that umbrella.

That’s called a canopy,” I responded, offering him a nugget of knowledge.

I didn’t ask for a f@#$ing nature lesson,” he smirked.


Look at that face: nothing but insight.

Look at that face: nothing but insight.

We continued on our walk, discussing what to do during our remaining days in the rainy city.  He suggested taking a ferry boat up to Vancouver.

I reminded him we couldn’t do that because we didn’t bring our passports.  Much like his insightful comment on Boise, Idaho, he responded with this gem:

I don’t think you need a passport to go to Canada.  It’s Canada.  It’s not a real country.  Plus, we’re taking a ferry.”

I wasn’t able to get out of him why the mode of transportation into a new country mattered, but apparently it did, at least to Matt Newlin.

The hike was several miles but after about 2 miles we were bored and sick of hiking so overwhelmed with nature we needed a break…and a margarita.

We learned a lot that day.  Matt learned tree terminology and I learned never to go into a dark shack with my husband or with a guy named Daniel.  He’s a dick.


I can't look sexy and coy when I ask you to do something, so I'll let this sassy chick do it for me.  She says "Please."   She also says "I'm hungry." photo credit: Mr.MVP via photopin cc

I can’t look sexy and coy when I ask you to do something, so I’ll let this sassy chick do it for me. She says “Please.”
She also says “I’m hungry.”
photo credit: Mr.MVP via photopin cc

My friend Stacia over at Dried On Milk has encouraged me to participate in the Blogger Idol contest.

Fortunately, Paula Abdul won’t be a judge, so that won’t be a concern.  (I’m not confident she was fully aware she was a judge on American Idol…or that she was on TV…or that she was supposed to speak English coherently).

In order to be considered for the first round of Blogger Idol, I have to submit a post that best represents me and my blog.

Apparently just submitting a sentence that says “I spill things, I’m covered in dog hair and I can’t function without embarrassing myself” isn’t enough to accurately describe me and my blog.

I contend otherwise.

This is where you come in.  I need you to tell me what are your favorite posts of mine over the years that you think best describes my blog and who I am as a person/writer.

Hopefully it will be a post that made you laugh, which is kind of the point of this Blogger Idol contest.

photo credit: K. W. Sanders via photopin cc

This dog has abs of steel!
photo credit: K. W. Sanders via photopin cc

If you choose a sappy post for me to submit, I will kindly remind you that post isn’t from me and you’re obviously reading someone else’s blog.

It’s okay.  I probably wouldn’t read my blog either.

Please give me your thoughts on which posts you think represent me best and are the funniest.

To get you started, here are a few I’ve selected as options.

Yes, I’m holding  your hand through this, but that’s because you probably like holding hands.  I hate it, so let this be yet another treat I’m giving you.

Why Kelly Kapowski and I wouldn’t be friends in high school

A different way to view the swimming suit season

Why Ryan Gosling should break up with Eva Mendes

Where’s Waldo?  Seriously.  Where is he?

My tumultuous relationship with Fro Yo

My break up letter to Auto-Correct

Lisa Newlin’s secrets to a happy marriage

Spelling Bee = E-N-T-E-R-T-A-I-N-I-N-G

Letter to the truck driver who tried to hit on my today

Don't you want to hi-five this guy?  Only if you tell me your favorite post. photo credit: ElDave via photopin cc

Don’t you want to hi-five this guy? Only if you tell me your favorite post.
photo credit: ElDave via photopin cc

Let me know what you guys think.  Put your suggestion in the comments. Email me.  Text me.  Tweet me.  Facebook or Google+ me.  Whichever way works.

Just don’t assault me.  I get stabby when people try to assault me.

The posts I selected above are just a few of my suggestions, but you are free to suggest whichever posts you want.

Just remember they have to be a post I actually wrote, so suggesting posts from The Bloggess isn’t really going to get me anywhere.

Thanks!  You guys are such lambs!

Love Lisa







What you didn't see at fashion weekI’m pretty much a style icon.  A fashion maven if you will.

Fifty-something women all over the Midwest look to me for inspiration about what to wear…and then they don’t wear it because they know I don’t have the first clue about fashion (or low waisted pants.)

As you know, New York Fashion Week just ended, which means all the new styles for Spring 2014 premiered.  Yes, I know, it seems strange that Fall Fashion Week showcases spring fashions.

It doesn’t make sense, but neither does Jessica Simpson being taken seriously as a fashion designer.  There are just some mysteries that will never be solved.

My friend Gansavoort is a fabulous fashion editor in New York City, and although she didn’t explicitly invite me to Fashion Week this year, I definitely took her subliminal hints that she wanted me there.

Please don’t think of coming to Fashion Week” and “I’ll lose my job if I’m seen with you” were just decoy texts.  I  know she wishes I could make it.

Next time, Gansavoort.  Next time.

Since I wasn’t there, I’m not sure what fashions were showcased this year, but I have an idea of what fashions weren’t showcased.  Here are a few things I know didn’t make the runway, although I wish they would have.

photo credit: cackhanded via photopin cc

photo credit: cackhanded via photopin cc

1.  Pajama Jeans

When is the fashion world going to catch on to this amazing invention?

They’re pajamas….that look like jeans!

This is pure and simple comfortable brilliance and nothing more.

2.  Muffin tops

photo credit: rick via photopin cc

photo credit: rick via photopin cc

I realize this isn’t an outfit, per se, although it’s an accessory that accompanies every one of my ensembles.

I’m sure not only did none of the fashion models sport muffin tops, none of them have ever savored the delicious goodness of devouring 5 muffin tops in under 3 minutes.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s why they don’t have muffin tops.

3.  Orthopedic shoes

photo credit: BEYOURPET via photopin cc

photo credit: BEYOURPET via photopin cc

If only, my dear readers.  If only this was a fashion statement.  If it was, I’d be the most fashionable chick at Curves Fitness.

As of now, I’m the youngest member, with Gretta coming in second place right behind me at a whopping 57 years young.  The two of us could rock that runway in our orthopedics and remind the fashion world how great it is to have comfortable shoes.

We’d walk that runway in style, and at a snails’ pace because of our feet problems.

4.  Bonnie Bell lip gloss

photo credit: twitchery via photopin cc

photo credit: twitchery via photopin cc

This shit is awesome and I’m not sure why it’s not the exclusive lip gloss of Fashion Week.  It should be.

Poor Bonnie Bell is shunned from the fashion world, although her arch nemesis, Bobbi Brown, is always rocking the runway in style.

Although I’m a Bobbi Brown girl at heart because it’s “My Prerogative,” (see what I did there?  Bobbi Brown and Bobby Brown?  Hee hee.) I still feel for Bonnie Bell.  She’s brilliant in her lip gloss development.  Her best invention?  Dr. Pepper lip gloss.


Why this isn’t featured on the runway, I will never know.

5.  Underwear

photo credit: arielkovic via photopin cc

photo credit: arielkovic via photopin cc

I watch enough Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model to know that most of these models stroll the runway sans undergarments.

If I stomped down the runway without my bra, I’d probably trip over my tits and land spread-eagle with my hoo-ha in the spotlight.

That’s not the kind of fashion statement I want to make.

6.  Food

photo credit: FUNKYAH via photopin cc

photo credit: FUNKYAH via photopin cc

I’m going out on a very sturdy limb here in saying there wasn’t much to munch on at Fashion Week other than cotton balls dipped in orange juice.

Maybe if they’d use Bonnie Bell Dr. Pepper lip gloss, they wouldn’t be so damn hungry.

I’m not sure what will come out of New York Fashion Week 2013, but I’m sure it won’t be any of the things I mentioned here.

This is one of those times I’d love to be wrong, but considering I’m never wrong, these predictions are a safe bet.

Now where are the brownies?


Full HouseI used to love the show “Full House” and watched it religiously when I was a kid.  (By “when I was a kid” I mean now.)

From a creepy uncle who lived in the basement to the equally creepy uncle who lived in a child’s bedroom on the second floor, there was a lot of shit that went down in that house.

I used to think Uncle Joey was the creepy one living in the basement with stuffed animals and children’s toys, but now that I think about it, at least he had his own space down there.

Uncle Joey’s gig was better than Uncle Jesse’s.  Jesse had no privacy living upstairs, just a bedroom away from enough make up and estrogen to make any tranny jealous.

He had no privacy.  Where do you think Uncle Jesse kept his stash of VHS tapes of porn?  You know he was a dirty bird.

The poor guy shared a wall with a toddler, and a bathroom with two pre-pubescent girls.  His hair probably smelled like Tinkerbell shampoo, and his balls probably smelled like herpes.

Do herpes smell?  I don’t know.

For some reason, I got to thinking about what the neighbors had to think of that bat shit crazy house.  Fortunately, I found a diary entry from one of the Tanners’ neighbors, and since I’m awesome like that, I decided to share the notes with you.

  • Why are there so many grown men in one house?  It’s not just that “Everywhere you look….there’s a face….of somebody who needs you,”  it’s that every one of those faces are dudes, which is super creepy.  It’s one big sausage fest over there.
  • The music coming from that house is dreadful.  I’m not sure if those two middle-aged dudes who always have their shirts tucked into their pants think they’re going to start a rock band, but they probably need to realize that music stars don’t usually rock out on their electric keyboards.  Homeboys need to learn to lip sync…and learn how to wear a pair of Dockers.
  • I swear they say they only have one small girl that lives there, but I know there are two girls who look alike and they just call both of them Michelle.

  • Please don’t try to convince me that Kimmy Gibbler is best friends with DJ Tanner.  I’m not sure what dirt Kimmy has on DJ, but it has to be good, as no one would voluntarily be friends with Kimmy Gibbler. No one.
  • If I hear “You got it, dude” one more time, I might actually blow my brains out.  Or, maybe I’ll just buy some blow from Kimmy Gibbler.  Either way, blow will be involved.  You know, maybe that’s why DJ is friends with Gibbler.  DJ looks like she dabbles in nose candy.  It’s the only explanation for why she would ever think she looked good in mall bangs.
  • That middle child, Stephanie, is super annoying.  There’s nothing else to report on that one.  I just wanted to mention it.
  • There’s something about the dad, Danny Tanner, that tells me he has a really nasty side to him.  My intuition tells me he has a really good ending to that Aristocrats joke.
  • Where the hell is that convertible they drive in the opening credits?  They’re all happy driving across the bridge in that hoopty and then we never see it again.  Maybe it’s Gibbler’s drug car.
  • Aunt Becky likes to play it innocent with her shirts buttoned all the way up to her neck, but I know the score with her.  She may be a poorly dressed lady in the street, but she’s a freak in the bed for sure. Once her granny panties come off, it’s on.
photo credit: tinney via photopin cc

photo credit: tinney via photopin cc

That’s all the notes I found from the neighbors.  Apparently their house was torn down after the show ended, which isn’t really that sad as it was just the front of a building and not a full house anyway.

Ha!  Not a full house.  I made a pun and didn’t even know it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to watch reruns of “Family Matters” and answer the question about why Urkel talked in a high-pitched voice.  (Spoiler alert:  His pants where shoved up his scrotum.)

There's a third one!

There’s a third one!

It’s been quiet around the hydrangea bush at the Newlin house.  Maybe a little too quiet.  Jerry Yardcia and his Gnome Boyz have been noticeably quiet recently, despite their suspected illegal activities.

For those of you not familiar with Jerry, he is the gangsta gnome who runs security at my house.  He also runs a variety of illegal rackets, but I will deny that if asked.


Jerry Yardcia is a former accountant turned gantsta.  He’s the head gnome in charge and his “special” cousin Jernome is his right hand man, despite the fact he physically stands to the left of Jerry.

Did I mention Jernome was special?

I told myself the peacefulness around the house was nothing to worry about.  I hoped Jerry left the gangsta life of crime and turned over a new leaf.  (He definitely turned over a few hydrangea leaves, as that plant seems to be dying despite my numerous life-saving attempts, which really just entails watering it when I remember to…which isn’t often.)

Jerry is always counting dollas.

Jerry is always counting dollas.

I told myself it was possible Jerry grew sick of keeping inventory of hash and cocaine and instead returned to keeping inventory of debits and credits.

(NOTE: Debits are ALWAYS to the left and credits are ALWAYS to the right.  Don’t even get him started on this touchy subject. DEBIT AND CREDIT JOKES ARE NEVER FUNNY TO JERRY.)

If only leaving a life of crime was an option for Jerry.  Apparently the thug life got ahold of him good…just like it did Tu-Pac.

Instead of turning away from it, Jerry is embracing his criminal ways and bringing new gangstas on board.  Matt and I were not made aware of this development.

Unbegnownst to us, Jerry invited a new gansta to our gnome.

Now that I think about it, I’m not sure how I thought Jerry Yardcia made enough money to live the lavish lifestyle he does.  After all, that sweet medallion around his neck and his flip phone don’t pay for themselves.

The only way he could afford such luxuries was to have a money-making scheme on the down gnome.  (Okay, that one was a stretch.)

Recently I found out what that scheme was, as the new Gnome boy arrived with the start of football season.  Meet the thug known only as “Gnomber One Fan.”

Gnome and tv

He always has sports on the mind…and on the TV

What role does Gnomber One Fan play in Jerry’s gang of misfits?

Yup.  You guessed it.  He’s the bookie.  He runs the numbers racket and he seems to have a gy-gnomous book of business.

Gnomber One tries to talk football with Shady Jack by giving him a toy football.  SJ isn't amused.

Gnomber One tries to talk football with Shady Jack by giving him a toy football. SJ isn’t amused.

Okay, so maybe “bookie” isn’t the right gnomenclature for his job, but what’s the politically correct term for a gnome heavily involved in loansharking and betting?

Ah yes:  a gnombers runner.

The gnome only gnown as “Gnomber One Fan” appears here to stay, at least for the duration of football season.

In my brief conversations with him, he gnows a lot about football and stats.  Perhaps he was Jerry’s assistant in the accounting world way-back-when.

As you can tell by the Mizzou logo across his abgnomen, he’s a Missouri fan, which is good, as I certainly couldn’t have a KU fan living in my hydrangeas.  My compost pile?  Sure.

My hydrangeas?  Never.

Don’t worry though.  Gnomber One doesn’t have a heart of gnome.  He knows when to stop and smell the roses…or in this case, the vinca.


Gnomber One still likes flowers.  I caught him like this earlier today.

Gnomber One still likes flowers. I caught him like this earlier today.

So if you’re looking for someone to place bets with this football season, come on over to the Newlin gnome and we will get you set up.  Of course, you’ll have to throw Jerry the proper gansta sign before he will let you into the house.  After all, he’s a gansta gnome, not a pushover.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.