In the chaotic symphony of life, where mismatched socks are the least of one's worries and "f***" is a household staple, sits Felicia—a beacon of sanity and a self-proclaimed "nice not nice mom." She's parked outside Harper Valley High, a daily ritual that involves not only waiting for her wonderfully imperfect offspring, Lily and Gary, but also enduring the silent, perfectly coiffed judgment of the Harper Valley High Horses.
The Judgmental Crowd—A Roast for the Harper Valley High Horses
Felicia, whose perpetually askew ponytail was a quiet nod to the daily wrestling match that was her life, muttered under her breath, "Let's talk about those Harper Valley jackasses." A woman in a perfectly tailored pantsuit gave a disapproving sniff in her direction, confirming Felicia's internal monologue. These were the high-horse riders, the self-appointed arbiters of parenting, who treated the PTA like the Supreme Court of Morality. Felicia, however, figured she'd rather take her chances with Judge Judy and a rabid raccoon. "If you think you can do better," she mused, "skip the PTA and start an ETA—Experienced Teachers Association—because I guarantee someone else could show up and actually teach a thing or two about real life." And trust her, the curriculum wasn't "How to Judge from the Bleachers 101."
Strictly Backwards Moments: Harper Valley Hypocrisy
Felicia observed a mom in a pristine white blouse wagging a finger at her son for daring to touch a puddle. "You might be living Strictly Backwards if your idea of 'parenting advice' is side-eyeing the mom with a screaming toddler while your own kid is eating crayons under the table," she thought.
This was a world apart from her own. Gary, much to her amusement, had recently informed her that "bleeping out 'f***' at home means nothing, Mom. They're saying it on the school bus—creatively." Felicia had nearly snorted her coffee laughing. Meanwhile, the Harper Valley types clutched their pearls at other parents, blissfully unaware their own "little angel" was probably running a black-market slime ring at recess.
"Or," Felicia thought, as a woman with an unnervingly straight posture walked by, "your nose is so high in the air, you need an oxygen mask just to judge the rest of us." She'd witnessed them break people down with words, then innocently inquire, "Why are you crawling?" as if they hadn't just pulled the rug out from under them. They were the self-appointed admissions committee for paradise, but would slam the door on anyone with a scar or a story. And "love thy neighbor"? That usually meant "unless they're wearing yoga pants at pickup."
Felicia had given up on matching socks eons ago. Lily and Gary's laundry was a chaotic, mismatched symphony, a stark contrast to the perfectly organized lives of the Harper Valley elite. She'd heard them roast parents for not packing organic lunches, yet knew damn well their own kids' lunches were probably a bag of Doritos and a prayer. And while they'd never let their kid say "f***," Felicia bet they were the first to drop it when they stepped on a Lego.
"It takes a village," they'd say, but only if they were the mayor, sheriff, and HOA president. They expected God to kick broken people while they were down—because that was "divine justice," right? They judged parents for screen time, yet their phones were glued to their hands like they were surgically attached. They expected the stick they snapped to fix itself, and then blamed the forest for not growing it back.
"They think heaven is for the unbroken," Felicia murmured, watching Lily's vibrant red hair bobbing through the crowd of students now pouring out of the school, "but they're going to be real lonely at that party."
Closing Thought
Lily and Gary finally appeared, Lily clutching a book to her chest and Gary already halfway into a bag of chips. Felicia grinned. "So next time you want to judge a parent—or anyone else—remember: it's easy to point fingers from the bleachers. But it takes guts to get on the field and play." She looked at her kids, messy and loud and wonderfully imperfect. "I promise you wouldn't last a day in my house—and you sure as hell wouldn't do a better job with these kids or with life's messiness. Welcome to my Harper Valley, where we raise kids, not hypocrites, and where love means more than judgment."
A Question for Tiffany Jenkins
P.S. Tiffany Jenkins, I dare you to be honest—do you still take pills, just as long as there's access and it's reasonable, and you don't have to fear anything? Because lack of access, fear of punishment, and fear of judgment are the only reasons people do stupid sh*t. It's not about the drug or needing something for pain. How about, instead of lying, we heal people correctly by saying our actual truth?
Connect with Tiffany Jenkins:
Website: jugglingthejenkins.com
The Common Sense Condiment—Major Mustard, Chapter Eighteen:
"Mirror Words & Mirrored Worlds: Devil, Lived, and the Perspective That Changes Everything"
Introduction
Let's state the obvious: words are mirrored for a reason, and so are people. Your starting point matters. If you're on top of the world, you're looking down—so all you see is the mess below. It's easy to judge, to spot the negative, to forget that the view looks a whole lot different from the ground up.
But try flipping the script. Stand where they stand. If the world's been unkind to you, being kind back isn't always a choice—it's survival. That thing people claim to have—emotions, a heart? Funny how it only gets used for people who started from the same place. Everyone says they have compassion, but it's amazing how quickly that compassion evaporates when the "other" isn't a mirror image of you.
Mirror Words: The Devil's in the Details
Ever notice how some words are mirrored for a reason? Take "devil" and flip it—you get "lived." Maybe that's not an accident. Maybe it's a cosmic joke: the more you judge, the less you've actually lived. Or maybe it's a reminder that everyone you look down on has a story, and every "devil" was just someone who lived through something you never had to.
Words have power. They shape how we see the world and how we see each other. When you look at a word backward, it's like looking at a reflection in a warped mirror—distorted, but revealing. "Devil" becomes "lived," and suddenly, the enemy is someone who's been through life's battles, scars and all. The judgment we cast is often a reflection of our own fears and insecurities.
Perspective: The Heart of the Matter
Perspective isn't just about where you stand physically—it's about where you stand emotionally and mentally. If you're always looking down, you'll never see the whole picture. You'll miss the struggles, the triumphs, the humanity beneath the surface.
If you only use your heart for people who look, talk, or start like you, it's not a heart—it's a club card. It's exclusive, selective, and often hypocritical. True compassion doesn't come with conditions. It's messy, inconvenient, and sometimes downright painful.
The world isn't always kind, and kindness isn't always a choice. Sometimes, it's a luxury. Sometimes, it's a rebellion. Sometimes, it's just not on the menu. People who have been hurt, ignored, or marginalized often have to armor up just to survive. Expecting kindness from them without understanding their pain is like expecting a cactus to bloom in winter.
The Real Lesson
Next time you're tempted to judge, remember: your starting point isn't everyone's starting point. The "devil" you see might just be someone who's lived a life you couldn't handle for a day. And if you want to see the world differently, try looking at it from the bottom up. You might find a little more heart—and maybe, just maybe, a little less devil.
Judgment is easy. Compassion takes effort. It requires you to step outside your comfort zone, to challenge your biases, and to embrace uncertainty. It means acknowledging that the people you judge might be fighting battles you can't see.
When you flip the word "devil" to "lived," you're reminded that everyone's story is complex. No one is purely evil or purely good. We all carry contradictions, regrets, hopes, and dreams. Recognizing this complexity is the first step toward empathy.
The Power of Starting Points
Your perspective is shaped by your experiences, your upbringing, your culture. If you grew up with privilege, the world might look like a place of opportunity. If you grew up with hardship, it might look like a battlefield. Neither view is wrong; both are true.
Understanding this is crucial. When you meet someone whose life looks completely different from yours, don't dismiss their reality. Instead, try to see the world through their eyes. It's not about agreeing with everything they believe or do—it's about recognizing their humanity.
This shift in perspective can transform relationships, communities, and even societies. It breaks down walls of misunderstanding and builds bridges of connection.
Why Kindness Isn't Always a Choice
Kindness is often portrayed as a simple virtue, a choice anyone can make at any time. But for many, kindness is complicated. When you've been hurt, betrayed, or abandoned, kindness can feel like weakness.
People who have been through trauma or systemic injustice may protect themselves with anger, suspicion, or distance. Expecting them to be kind without addressing the root causes of their pain is unrealistic.
Kindness in these contexts is revolutionary. It's a radical act of courage and trust. It's saying, "I see your pain, and I choose to respond with love anyway."
Closing Thought
Perspective isn't just about where you stand. It's about where you're willing to look. So flip the word, flip the script, and maybe you'll see that lived experience is worth more than any label. Even devil spelled backwards is lived.
When you start seeing people as complex beings shaped by their experiences, you open the door to real understanding. You stop judging and start listening. You stop blaming and start healing.
So next time you catch yourself looking down, remember: the world looks very different from the bottom up. And sometimes, the devil you think you see is just someone who's lived—and survived—more than you ever will.
#MirrorWords #MajorMustardRoast #PerspectiveShift #DevilAndLived #StartFromTheBottom #HeartOverHate
Can't break a stick over your leg and then blame the tree in which it came or the forest in which it rooted do you really expect God to kick people while they're down who been beaten down by life so much that they broke only to them turn them away that's a joke quite literally hypocrisy at its finest! And if you think the Bible did not have government influence but rather was written by a bunch of people who only loved God and not the alternative systemic power struggle structure that's pure arrogance! God I highly doubt will be in the habit of turning people away who were just looking for a place to belong if you stay in your way of thinking my guess is your version of hell is going to look a whole lot like an empty hotel!
The Common Sense Condiment—Major Mustard, Chapter Fifteen:
"Cartels, Gangs, Cops & Commandos—The Smackdown Nobody Ordered"
Introduction
Welcome to the ultimate smackdown—where street legends, badge-wielders, and camo-clad commandos all show up for a roast, but nobody brought the potato salad. It's like a family reunion, except everyone's got trust issues and half the crowd is undercover. Grab your popcorn, your riot shield, and maybe a decoder ring—because this isn't just cops and robbers. This is the Common Sense Olympics, and spoiler alert: nobody's winning gold.
Cartel & Gang Edition: The Codebreakers' Ball
Sinaloa, CJNG, MS-13, Bloods, Crips—y'all love your codes. But let's be honest: the only thing more scrambled than your group chat is your moral compass. You want unity? Maybe try not kidnapping your own contacts. Real power is ending the cycle, not just switching who's in the trunk. If your "family" has more beef than a Taco Bell mystery burrito, maybe it's time for a new recipe.
You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If…
Your "family" reunion needs a referee and a metal detector.
You say "no snitching," but your group chat leaks faster than a dollar-store water balloon.
You want respect, but can't even respect your own turf boundaries.
You claim to be "untouchable," but your cousin's cousin just posted your location on Instagram.
You want out of the game, but can't even get out of your own group text.
"Ride or die" apparently means "ride, then die, then get replaced by your little brother."
Police Roast: Badge & Blunder Brigade
Cops—flash those badges like magic talismans, but the only thing you make disappear is public trust. "Protect and serve"? More like "protect your pension and serve attitude." You bust lemonade stands and miss the real criminals—classic. Maybe if you spent less time writing parking tickets and more time building community, you wouldn't need to hide behind riot shields.
You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If…
Your "community policing" is just waving at the speed camera as you drive by.
You say "stop resisting," but it's your own urge to check TikTok on duty.
You're first on the scene for a jaywalking duck, but last to the actual bank robbery.
You can recite Miranda rights from memory, but can't remember your own bodycam password.
Your "de-escalation technique" is just calling for backup and praying for paperwork.
Military Roast: The Five-Branch Fiasco
Army: First in, last to realize the GPS was upside down.
Navy: Seven months at sea, still can't parallel park.
Marines: If it moves, salute it. If it doesn't, paint it. If it's hot, marry it.
Air Force: Deploys to five-star hotels and calls it "combat."
Coast Guard: Seasick in a bathtub.
Space Force: Still waiting for their first alien DUI checkpoint.
You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If…
Army: "Hooah!" means "I have no idea what's happening, but I'm here for it."
Navy: Can navigate the globe, but can't find the bathroom on base.
Marines: "Semper Fi"—always faithful, especially to bad tattoos.
Air Force: "Chair Force" is not just a joke, it's a lifestyle.
Coast Guard: "Rescue swimmers" but can't swim without floaties.
Space Force: Still fighting the war on gravity.
Federal Agencies: The Alphabet Soup of Incompetence
FBI, DEA, ATF, ICE—y'all make the DMV look efficient. If you teamed up, maybe you'd catch the break room snack thief (spoiler: it's always the Coast Guard).
You Might Be Living the Not-So-Common Sense Life If…
FBI: Can find your 2007 Myspace page, but not your missing package.
DEA: Busts a weed farm, but can't find the evidence in their own desk drawer.
ATF: Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms—and still can't throw a decent office party.
ICE: More paperwork than arrests.
All together: The only "joint operation" they've ever succeeded at is a potluck lunch.
Hidden Wisdom from the Mustard Jar
Real power isn't about who's got the biggest crew, the shiniest badge, or the fanciest camo. It's about knowing when to break the cycle, not just the law.
If you're busy playing cops and robbers, maybe ask yourself: are you protecting your people, or just your own ego?
The only turf that matters is the ground you stand on—so stop fighting over dirt and start planting something better.
Every code can be cracked, every badge can tarnish, and every uniform gets wrinkled. But common sense? That's the real uniform of champions.
Closing Thought
In the world of Common Sense Condiment, everyone's playing a part—cartels decoding their own drama, cops writing tickets for jaywalking squirrels, and the military still trying to find the exit. The alphabet agencies? Lost in the soup. If you want real power, try ending the cycle—not just switching who gets to wear the handcuffs.
#RealChange #NoMoreViolence #MajorMustardRoast #LawAndDisorder #EndTheCycle #WWE #TheRock
Bonus Round: Now that's how you talk s** and scoop it out all the same damn time—Dwayne Johnson would be proud.*
Chapter Five: A*Strictly Backwards Hypocrisy—Bible Thumpers, Blame-Shifters, and Everyday Bitching
Introduction
You might be living an A*Strictly Backwards life if your daily routine involves more complaining than a Yelp review convention, and your favorite hobby is blaming God for everything from the weather to WiFi outages. Welcome to the world of everyday bitching, where the only thing holier than thou is the hole in your logic.
You Might Be Living an A*Strictly Backwards Life If…
…you complain about everything, but never actually do anything to change it.
…your favorite prayer is, "Why me, God?"—right after you ignored every red flag and common-sense warning.
…you use the Bible as a weapon, but haven't read past the table of contents.
…you blame God for your problems, but take credit for every lucky break.
…you're quick to point out everyone else's "sins," but your own skeletons need a walk-in closet.
…you say "homosexuality is a sin" but forget the part about loving your neighbor (and not being a jerk).
…your idea of "spreading the word" is throwing the Bible at your own family—literally.
…you get mad when someone throws the Bible, but you were just about to use it as a guilt trip.
…you think quoting Scripture gives you a free pass to judge, but you skipped the "judge not" section.
…you act like your sin is a parking ticket and everyone else's is a felony.
…you use God as a scapegoat, but never as a guide.
…you ask "Why did God do this?" but never ask "What can I do about it?"
…you think "Bible over!" is a mic drop, but you're still holding the cord.
…you argue about the Bible, but haven't cracked it open since Sunday School.
…you're more worried about your daughter's love life than your own lack of love.
…you throw God's word around, but never let it land in your own heart.
…you believe "no one sin is greater than the other"—except the ones you don't like.
…you use faith as a shield, but never as a mirror.
…you can recite verses about judgment, but not a single one about grace.
…your biggest miracle would be learning to use the Bible for compassion, not condemnation.
Closing Thought
In the world of A*Strictly Backwards, the loudest complainers are usually the ones holding the heaviest stones. Next time someone tries to weaponize the Bible or blame God for their own mess, remember: the real mic drop isn't in the argument—it's in the love, the humility, and the courage to say, "Bible over! Now let's actually live it."
Side Note
This chapter is based on a real interaction I had with my son. One day, he angrily tried to throw the Bible in my daughter's face during a heated argument about her liking women and men. He was spouting the usual "homosexuality is a sin" rhetoric. I grabbed the Bible out of his hand and threw it back at him. He looked shocked and said, "You're going to throw God's word?" I looked him in the eye and said, "You are! So when you learn to use it correctly, you can have it back." Then I added, "No one sin is greater than the other. Bible over! Argue that." It was a moment that flipped the script and reminded us both about the real message behind the words.
"Part of My Words"
(Parody of "Part of Your World" from Disney's The Little Mermaid)
Look at this chat, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my opinions complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl—
The girl who has something to say?
Look at this thread, treasures untold,
How many comments can one platform hold?
Looking around here you'd think,
"Sure, she's got everything…"
I've got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty,
I've got memes and emojis galore.
You want witty retorts? I got twenty!
But who cares? No big deal...
They're ignored.
I wanna be where my words get heard,
I wanna see, wanna see them trending,
Scrolling around on those—what do you call 'em?
Feeds!
Typing your thoughts, you don't get too far,
Silence and spam are required for hiding,
Burying data in—what's that word again?
Streams!
Up where they chat, up where they joke,
Up where they laugh all day in the open,
Wandering free—wish I could be
Part of my words.
My lawsuit list gets longer each day,
What is this "friends" thing everyone keeps mentioning anyway?
What would I give if I could live
Where my voice wasn't muffled?
What would I pay to get a say
That's not lost in the shuffle?
Betcha on land, they understand
That data is meant for sharing.
Bright young women, sick of swimmin',
Ready to speak!
And ready to shout what the world's about,
Ask 'em my questions and get some reactions,
What's a retweet and why does it—what's the word?—sink?
When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love,
Love to explore the world of the spoken?
Out of the stream, wish I could scream,
Part of my words!
(Please don't sue, I'm just a copy… For inquiries about the original song, contact Disney Music Group via their official social channels or Disney's corporate website.)
great jop runnin from l8fe #ellendegeneres! Here's your text in block form, no more than 10 words per line, with hashtags updated to currently trending ones (as of 2025):
#snap #roast #foodsecurity #cannabiscommunity #mentalhealthmatters #comedy
im Just gonna ok jl l eve this rt hear
maybe ask Voight or Hargitay which way ewe
shhh hood swing me! ok #JodiMiller vs #JodiArias
luv I get you! both sure! where do I sign
404 #fanclub now that's #juggling #TiffanyJenkins #queenbee any thoughts
whoever is #currentme? lmfao #Beyonce? opinion yet? or no? 😂
Jodi Miller vs Jodi Arias: Good Job vs Good Jop!!
PR OB Limb v Limp Roast
Jodi Miller crushes AGT with her bit about guys
being like cats-moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable-while women
are like dogs, loyal and always up in your business.
Meanwhile, my dog hits puberty, his dick bleeds once,
and suddenly he's acting like he's got a PhD
in mood swings-bitch for life! But honestly, men
are the real drama queens. They go from "I wanna
bag her" to "put her in one" faster
than my dog can chase his own tail.
Flip the script, and suddenly I'm the no-trial fugitive.
I don't do whiny. I told my ex: no Area 51,
my kids' buns are off-limits. Yeah, I know what a
cunt I am. Escalate to an AK or keep it light?
Nah, not without a blue wall and a public lynching.
And you wonder why Jodi Arias has a fan club-
drama gets you followers, not just felonies.
Joe Santagato, if you insist on stupid, let me clarify:
limp or limb, I'm good with either. Swing me, bitch!
#JoeSantagato you rate DJ Sammy yet? Someone earn her quick
your vagina boutta be viral, no one's gonna tell your face!
#cartel yeah me and he's not why! and why
all at the same whiny bitch time!
Jodi Miller gets no "X," while Jodi Arias gets
a permanent mark for doing what some only wish they
had the guts to do. When a blind douche finds
his way to Arias, maybe he shouldn't be shocked
by the outcome.
And as for "good job" or "good jop"? Both
mean you did something right-one's just Santa's gift
to dyslexia or something. Either way, you leave a mark-
whether it's applause, a mugshot, or a punchline.
#wtf #failarmy
Locked up? Please. The only cell you're in is
the one you built with your own stupidity. You whine
about being targets, but you're so desperate to keep your
ass comfy you'd take the fall for CIA crimes
just to avoid getting up. MKUltra didn't break you-
you signed up to be a clueless host for a
bigger dick who's too scared to swim against the
current. Not everyone drowns in undertows, but you? You're
determined to sink with every dumb decision.
Playing cartel now? Why? Why the actual fuck do you
think you're a badass? Taking 360 years for a murder
you didn't do isn't justice or "turning the tables,"
you ducks-it's just you being a pawn. Genius? Nu!
Nu, nu breed-can you not fucking read?! You're better
off with Drew Lynch as your GPS. Turn the
fuck around! You're not smart, you just think rolling
deep covers up your lack of brains. Cartels target nobody
and everybody-just like you: all bluster, zero backbone.
And when the CIA brought in the infiltrated fake cartel
for NY CA hithed I decided well if he
is cartel hit man cool like who's he tryna
be but CIA mole hid to set up fuck
no! I feel so violated suddenly standards went up
down and increased dramatically from leveling out!!!!!
And about being a hoe-I thought it was my choice.
Small town, broke, I owned it. But when
my pussy finally told me the truth, I realized,
wow, that's actually kinda nice of you. Then you
Xis went and fuckin' ruined it! WTF!
Let's talk about consent: by force isn't consent, and
no "two-for-one" confusion makes it right. Consent don't count
when you're hustling slow-witted dicks and trying to buy
your way out with spare change and fake charm.
Was Ellen born that way, or just forced into
it? Either way, forgiveness isn't a coupon for idiots
who keep slamming the same door on themselves.
Stop wondering, start learning-before you embarrass yourself any further.
#truestory #mentalhealthawareness #consentmatters #comedycommunity #realtalk
#crime #cartels #mafia #ganglife #popculture #EllenDeGeneres
it's not always a choice to be kind, it's us
is it ellen you clearly can see rc sound drive!!! ya
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