Monday, April 30, 2007

Does Fido Want Prozac or a Mood Ring?

Wow, this weekend really went to the dogs. Heh. Sorry, that was awful but I need way more caffeine to be any more witty than that.

Sampson and I were both ready for the yappy chihuahua to exit. We were trying to have a peaceful Saturday afternoon; me on the couch reading and Sampson trying to snooze in his bed. Every 5 minutues Yapface would think he heard something and run around the house barking like mad. Then he got pissy I wouldn't let him on the couch from which he rules his household back home. Right, I don't let my own dog and cats and my furniture and I'm going to let this annoying yapper climb all over it. It was really about dominance anyway, he wanted to literally be higher than me and the other animals in an attempt to be the pack leader.

I don't think so, Cujo. No one puts us in a corner.


After this weekend I don't need the latest money wasting invention from Japan to tell me that my animals were indeed stressed. Their latest marketing ploy is quite interesting, however. You stick a patch on the bottom of your dog or cat's paw, and it will tell you the stress level of your pet based on the amount of sweat on said paw.

Huh, doesn't that sound just like a '70s mood ring? Way cool, dude. Like, my ring was always green, what did that mean? I was horny? I was jealous? I was a jealous slut?

It's brilliant really. It's going to tell you your pet is stressed (Oh my God, it's working you think) when of fucking course your pet is stressed! You just grabbed him and stuck a foreign object on his paw. You don't think Spot and Fluffy will run around the house in a panic, trying to shake that think off its paw? Which, of course, will cause an increase in sweat, making the patch show a high stress level. Wow, that's quite a miracle product there.


To be fair, Japan does not have the market sewn up on pooch pampering. I think we have to give that prize to kooky CA, land where the dogs are just as medicated as their owners because, hey, everyone can benefit from Prozac, right?

There is some new company in LA and San Diego that is promoting "flexible dog ownership." Feel like owning a dog for a couple of hours here and there? Maybe you just want to be photographed with your adorable shih tzuahuahua peeking its fluffy beribboned and bebowed head out of your $10,000 Prada tote? No problem, just called Flexpetz to "borrow" your choice of dog for a few hours or a few days. For a small fee, of course. When you're ready to go get your half caf, nonfat, soy, no whip, grande mocha loco latte, followed by a mani-pedi, you can just give 'ol Fido back. No worries for you! No actual feeding, walking, loving, poop scooping, or any other of those bothersome dog owner duties required.

Now this place seriously annoys me. I think that the whole concept is abhorrent and cruel to dogs. To pass them around like stuffed animals is disgusting. It really breaks my heart to think of the treatment these animals will suffer. A celeb will fawn over them for a day, feeding them cake and showering them with attention briefly, only to give the poor dog back to this company to be stuck in a cage, wondering what the hell it did to deserve that. Disgusting.

Friday, April 27, 2007

You're My Penis Fish

Izzie: You're my penis fish!
George: What?
Izzie: You're my penis fish! You've crept inside me and now I can't get rid of you.

Brilliant! Kudos Shonda Rhimes. First, you coin the increasingly popular "vajayjay" term for "vagina" (said by Bailey while she was giving birth as in, "George! Stop looking at my vajayjay!") and now you give us a hilarious penis fish metaphor. Too good, Shonda. Too good.

If you didn't see Grey's Anatomy last night, don't worry. It's on AGAIN tonight. Gah, I just hate smug network TV people who know their show so rocks that they can show it 2 nights in a row.

Anyway, I did get a kick out of all the double entendres going on. The guy with a parasitic fish up his ying yang was the obnoxious, self-important chairman of the board at Seattle Grace. In true karmic divineness, we find out he's been having an affair with his assistant for years and now has balls the size of grapefruits after a Candiru catfish swam up his urine stream and lodged in his penis while he was peeing in the Amazon river.

HA! Take that you affair-having cheater, cheater pumpkin-eater.

Oh, and I SO knew the cake Burke was eating was Red Velvet--one of my absolute favs. I said to my husband, "Hey, that looks like Red Velvet cake." Two seconds later, Izzie tells Burke he should go with the Red Velvet cake for his wedding to Cristina.

So good to be brilliant, even if only in regard to dessert.

P.S. Do you have a person in your life who is your "penis fish?"

Thursday, April 26, 2007

I'll Get You My Pretty...And Your Little Dog, Too

Hmm, how can I love MY dog so much and get so flippin' annoyed at someone else's? I mean, I know that I have the best dog in the world but, really, how can everyone else's be so frickin' lame? Heh.

Thank God Sampson is going to live forever.
My husband has already tried gently bringing up the "After." You know, the After the best dog in the world dies you need to immediately go out and get another dog because if you don't you will fall apart and I don't want to deal with you, After. Nice.

See, this weekend a friend of ours is coming with his yippy yapper 8-lb chiahuahua rat terrier mix. Seriously, there is such a dog. And he's a nightmare. That's his picture which doesn't really do justice to his demonic personality.

First of all, they got him at a pet store so already that pisses me off. If you're not going to show your dog, couldn't you at least look at the shelters and rescue organizations in your area because I bet there is a fabulous dog there you would love.

Second, he's an obnoxious brat and I swear to the Milkbone King he knows it. He's seriously OCD, especially about his toys. If my dog gets within 10 feet of one of his toys he growls and yips at the top of his yippy yappy lungs.


Third, he has no interest in doing anything with you unless it involves you throwing his ball for him or giving him a treat. Otherwise, you are a useless creature to be ignored and growled at.


Fourth, he has an aversion to leashes. Uh huh. Yet he'll run away if he's not on one. But, try to put it on him and he'll do his best to bite you. Try to take a leash off him and, you guessed it, he'll again try to bite you. Perhaps something bad happened to him at some point, but I'm going with brain damage and just generalized disagreeableness.

Oh, and last time he visited? Overturned my purse, pulled out a nutrition bar, and tore it apart on the carpet. Also, peed on my bedroom carpet purely for spite. The first time we visited his owners in their house, he pooped on the carpet in the bedroom we were staying in. Just gives you insight into his psycho killer personality. I made sure our bedroom door was locked at night for fear he would come in and rip our throats out.

Finally, he's sexually perverted. Seriously! He has a black stuffed creature that is as big as he is named "Blackie." When you see him dragging Blackie around it's best to move to another room. You know, before the mad humping begins. If you think you've seen humping, you ain't seen nothing until you've seen this show. They could totally video tape it and sell it as doggie porn.

Why is it that little dogs (and cats) always seem to rule their owners?

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Alcatraz Mystique


I have always been fascinated with Alcatraz, the isolated California island prison known as "The Rock." It's where the most notorious murderers and mobsters were sent between 1934 and 1963.

My husband and I toured it during a honeymoon stop in San Francisco. I know, so romantic! But positively creepy and enthralling in a good, spine-tingling way. It's amazing it is such a popular tourist attraction since it has been closed for over 50 years now.


I read a bewitching article today detailing all sorts of unexplained occurrences that guards have reported since the prison doors clanged shut for the last time.
For example, one guard says walking inside the former elctroshock therapy room was the "worst" part of his rounds. Once he took a picture of it at night to show friends. When he developed the film, there was a face in the room staring back at him.

A female former guard reports having the distinct sensation of "being pinched on the butt." She says, "It happened with great regularity. I have no explanation for it, and I don't talk to people about it, because I know it makes me sound crazy."

Other tidbits I find interesting about Alcatraz:
  • There were only two men ever paroled directly from Alcatraz to the free world. They either died there or were transferred to other federal penitentiaries.
  • In the earlier years of Alcatraz, inmates were not allowed to talk to one another except during meals and recreation periods. Some inmates commonly emptied out the water from their toilets and created a primitive communications system through the sewage piping.
  • Most cells were extremely small--only 5 feet by 9 feet. Most men could extend their arms and touch each wall within their cell.
  • 36 prisoners were involved in various escape attempts. Two inmates actually successfully made it off the island but were quickly captured. Seven inmates were shot and killed trying to escape. Two drowned and 5 inmates have been unaccounted for and presumed drowned.
The Most Famous Escape Attempt:

Occurred on June 11, 1962, and was made famous by Clint Eastwood in the movie Escape from Alcatraz, Frank Morris and brothers John and Clarence Anglin vanished from their cells and were never seen again.

An investigation revealed an intricate escape plot that involved homemade drills to enlarge vent holes, false wall segments, and realistic dummy heads (complete with human hair) placed in the beds so the inmates would not be missed during nighttime counts.


They used prison-issued raincoats to make crude life vests and a pontoon-type raft to assist in their swim. A cellhouse search turned up the drills, heads, wall segments, and other tools, while the water search found two life vests (one in the bay, the other outside the Golden Gate), oars, and letters and photographs belonging to the Anglins that had been carefully wrapped to be watertight.


But no sign of the men was found. Several weeks later a man's body dressed in blue clothing similar to the prison uniform was found a short distance up the coast from San Francisco, but the body was too badly deteriorated to be identified.
Morris and the Anglins are officially listed as missing and presumed drowned.

In 2003, Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage, the co-hosts of the San Francisco-based Discovery Channel television series MythBusters, sought to prove whether the escapees could have survived. Using similar materials to those used in 1962, they constructed an inflatable raft from 50 rubber raincoats and made plywood paddles.

Hyneman and Savage selected a date when the tide direction and rate matched that of the escape attempt, and with another crew member, Will Abbot, standing in for the third prisoner, they were able to paddle with the outgoing tide to the
Marin Headlands, near the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The trip took 40 minutes and Hyneman and Savage agreed that the escape could have succeeded: the only problem with calling the myth "confirmed" is the simple fact that there's no actual evidence to show the escapees actually succeeded.

Leading Alcatraz historian Frank Heaney has spoken to relatives of the Anglin brothers who claim to have received postcards from South America signed by the two, but Frank Morris was never heard from again.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Can You See It?

"I saw his eyes, too. That's probably the scariest thing. There was nothing there, just emptiness almost. Like you can look in people's eyes and you can see life, their stories. But his--just emptiness."

--Derek O'Dell
20-year-old sophmore at Virginia Tech, describing Cho Seung-Hui as he opened fire in his German class.

Derek's words really resonated with me. I don't want to discuss Cho per se, but the fact that people's eyes do tell stories. I think Derek really captured that so poignantly in his description of what he didn't see in Cho's eyes.

People have always told me they have a hard time knowing what I'm thinking. I don't purposely try to hide how I'm feeling and be "stone-faced." At least, not any more since it's second nature at this point.

I learned to not show emotion at a young age after being told time and time again by my mother, "Wipe that smirk/puss/pout off your face." Whatever I was feeling, she didn't want to know it. I think that's probably one reason why I grew up uber sensitive to what others thought about me; I couldn't let anyone know how much their words or actions affected me. If I showed emotion, I lost. I don't know what exactly, maybe control, maybe the upper hand in some game I didn't know I was playing.

And so when I read this quote about people's eyes telling stories, something went "hmm" in my brain. I read it over and over and now I can say, wow, how special. I would love to be able to tell stories with my eyes. It's not a bad thing. What the bad thing is, is to end up a tightly-controlled, perfectionistic, impassive asshat.

What the good thing is, is to realize it and set about changing.

Word of the Day

The Word of the Day is "ironic." Definitely one of my favorites.

ironic
relating to, containing, or constituting irony (a pretense of ignorance and of willingness to learn from another assumed in order to make the other's false conceptions conspicuous by adroit questioning)
synonym see SARCASTIC

I find it incredibly ironic that the U.S. flag flew at half-staff last week at the largest U.S. base in Afghanistan for those killed at Virginia Tech, but that the same honor is not given to fallen U.S. troops.

U.S. soldiers are sacrificing their lives and neither American military bases nor federal locations in the U.S. are flying the flag at half-staff. I guess they think it wouldn't make sense since the flag would unfortunately be at half-staff everyday?

Your turn, what do YOU find ironic?

Monday, April 23, 2007

Reason Eleventy-Seven and a Half Why

Reason eleventy-seven and a half why I am a lapsed Catholic...

The Pope is apparently close to reversing centuries of traditional Roman Catholic hoo ha regarding the concept of "limbo." If you're not familiar, limbo refers to that terrifying time between death and going to heaven or hell. It involves purgatory - the enduring of punishment for your sins and all sorts of other fun stuff.

It is a Catholic belief that all children are born with original sin, meaning that those who die unbaptized are excluded from heaven. They will stay in an eternal state called limbo, whereby they might enjoy happiness but could not possibly be "in communion with God."

This means that Catholic women who miscarry or who have a baby die before he or she is baptized, are told their baby will always be in limbo and can never go to heaven. I really can't imagine anything more cruel.

But now, this new Pope is saying that there are "serious grounds" to "hope" that children who die without being baptized can go to heaven. Well hallelujah! Let's all rejoice and become Catholic now. That is so fantastic that there is "hope."

Not that I believe it will change how anything is actually taught in Catholic schools. The memories of various nasty old nuns hitting me with rulers are forever burned into my brain. I blame them for my current lapsed state. All they taught me was that God was a being of punishment and that I could not ever hope to be worthy enough of his love. It wasn't until I was in my 30s that I came to believe everything they had smacked and slapped into me wasn't true. I believe in a higher power and one that is benevolent and loving rather than angry and punishing.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

My Turn with Barbara Walters

The funnilicious (hey, if rap stars can make up words, I get to as well) Bob-Kat interviewed me. I'm sure it was hard for her to come up with questions since I tell you all everything anyway...

1: If you could trade places with a celebrity, which one and why?
George Clooney. Man is H-O-T, rich, funny, and loved by everyone.

2: You have been given a destructive superpower, what is it and who would be your first victim?
Ha! Dang now, this is just too easy. My destructive superpower would be the ability to mute people at will. I would even have a superhero remote with a special button I would get to press that would cause people to lose their voices mid-squawk. My first mutable would be a toss up between Donald Trump and Mel Gibson. Oooh wait, can I add Paris Hilton and Britney Spears.

3: If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
My ever present negativity.

4: Who would you make eat their words right now?
The NRA (National Rifle Association) in light of the recent murder of 32 innocent students and professors at Virgina Tech. There is simply no reason for anyone to own a semi-automatic handgun. You don't hunt with it and I don't buy the argument that it's needed for protection. That's bullshit. Show me the statistics that say homeowners successfully defend themselves against burglars with semi-automatic handguns. You can't, because they fucking don't. I do not for one second believe the authors of our Constitution intended guns to be bought and used in the number and manner that they currently are.

5: You meet an alien who has just landed on earth. How do you explain the concept of reality TV to him / her / it?
Reality TV shows are places where the Earth's most stupid people converge and see who can be the biggest asshat. Because we have so many stupid people on Earth, we have to have multiple reality TV shows.

If you would like ME to interview YOU, do the following:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your weblog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

If You Are Not a Dog, Don't Call Me

Shocked my blog is still here after I abandoned it for days on end.

I just got annoyed with people in general. Not at all unusual for me as most of my close friends know I really do not care for people. Whether it is people in general, people named "Sanjaya" (buh-bye), or asshat people that feel they have the right to shoot others because of their own fucked up-ness, I am truly annoyed with them all.

First, what the hell NBC? I know you feel all special that a murderer chose you to receive his "multi-media package," but guess what? That doesn't mean you should publish his woeisme "it's me against the world" pity party ramblings. Forget him. Who cares about him; he is just not important. Focus your attention where it should be. GAH

Second, thank you 12-year-old teeny bopper girls and gay guys everywhere who did not vote for Sanjaya and his universe on American Idol this week. Of course, now I have to boycott every talk show and entertainment "news" show that you will popping up on daily for the next flippin' month, Sanjujubee.

Third, stop calling me. You know who you are. I am sick of the phone ringing; I am sick of talking to you, and you, and you. The phone rang 4 bleeping times in 10 minutes yesterday. That is just not acceptable. I don't like talking on the phone, most of all, to people. I would be more than happy to listen to a dog breathe on the phone, so if you are not a dog, don't call me.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Prosthetic Legs and Ultrasounds

Seems to me I haven't "infotained" you lately with an "I'm an Idiot" true crime story...

In CA, a man named Gregory Daniels and a friend stole an ATM from a store by breaking into the store, wrapping a chain around the ATM, and using their pickup truck to rip it out of the floor. It worked! Smart, so far.

But, the police were on to them and chased the truck onto a deadend street. Poor Greggy's friend deserted him by fleeing. Police found Greg on the ground, trying to flee. However, he was unsuccessful as his prosthetic leg fell off. Hmm, you'd think he would have strapped that puppy on tight before a crime spree. You wouldn't see Heather Mills making that kind of amateur mistake.

I also read an interesting article out of SC today. The state Senate there just dropped a measure from an abortion bill that would have required women to review an ultrasound image of her fetus before terminating pregnancy. Niiiiiiiice. Gee, do you think that state Senate is made of up primarily of men? I do.

Who else would come up with the humilating idea to force a woman to see an ultrasound of her baby prior to having an abortion?

I do not want to start any kind of pro life/pro choice debate here, just saw this article and really couldn't believe people could come up with this barbaric of an idea in the 21st century. The measure was dropped from the bill after the state attorney general informed lawmakers it would be illegal for the state to force a women to view an ultrasound image.

Seems to me if measures such as this actually become legal, what's next? What choices are then deemed illegal and taken away? It does make me wonder about the whole Don Imus situation with regard to freedom of speech. I'm actually glad he got fired because I think he's a complete ass, as well as racist and chauvinistic, but was his freedom of speech wrongly silenced? I'm thinking no, because doesn't his employer have the right to hire/fire whomever they want? Thoughts?

In the end, maybe it's not a question of freedom of speech but of not wanting to employ an asshat anymore.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Snow Angel


I know I'm not a big picture-poster (too lazy) but this one really touched me. I thought it was beautiful as well as touching. I received it in an email, but it didn't say what town and state it's in. Just makes you pause in your busy day and reflect on how lucky you are to be alive.

And, if your mother-in-law lives farther away than 1 1/2 hours, consider yourself even luckier.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

More Cowbell!

Sorry, been a little absent lately. What with finding out Larry Birkhead is Dannielynn's true baby daddy. I mean, I was just SO surprised.

Yeah, I'm kidding. The truth is, I tried on a bathing suit the other day and had to lay low after that humilitating experience. I mean, the expectations are never high, but somehow, it's always worse after you've looked in the mirror. You tug that, pull this, bend over and yank the boobs upward (I am NOT the only one that does this, right?? You can answer, too, gentlemen.) Then, and only then, do you look in the mirror. EEK! Big sigh. Resolved not to eat as many chocolate chips melted with peanut butter and mixed with Kashi cereal. Definitely will cut out the cereal.

Oh, then I also needed time to recover from the big Easter Extravaganza with the husband's parents, sister and brother-in-law, and assorted cousins. I cooked my ass off, it was well-received, and I thought I was D-O-N-E with family obligations for a while. HA! The inlaws will be in town again this weekend to shuttle my sister-in-law to and from dental surgery and his mom wants to spend MORE time together. I'm feeling quite suffocated. Where the hell did my chocolate chips go?

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Things That Make You Go "Hmm"


To sit back hoping that someday, someway, someone will make things right is to go on feeding the crocodile, hoping he will eat you last....but eat you he will.


RONALD REAGAN



A Fire Rainbow

The rarest of all naturally occurring atmospheric phenomena.

The picture was captured this week on the Idaho/Washington border, the event lasted about one hour.

Clouds have to be cirrus, at least 20k feet in altitude, with just the right amount of ice crystals and the sun has to hit the clouds at precisely 58 degrees.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Chocolate Christ vs. Chocolate Satan

So dad-snorter Keith Richard's publicist is now saying Keith made the whole "I snorted my Dad's ashes" thing up. It was all a big joke, people! Riiiiight. Can't risk grossing out any fans who might be willing to fork over the moolah for a Rolling Stones album. Can you say "damage control?"


With Easter fast approaching, I thought I would mention just one of the many reasons I'm not a practicing Catholic anymore. I don't usually discuss religion in my blog; don't want to attract the wackos, you know. There, now I've offended everyone so no one will be offended by my upcoming diatribe. Just try to argue with that logic.

"This is an assault on Christians during Holy Week." That is a quote from Catholic League (wth is that??) spokeswoman Kiera McCaffrey, on "My Sweet Lord," an art exhibit that protrayed the crucification of Jesus Christ as a sculpture made of chocolate. The exhibit was later canceled.

So, there you have it: Reason #243 that I no longer attend Catholic mass every Sunday. The Catholics have totally lost their sense of humor.

Seriously, I'm quite annoyed that this Catholic League has so much clout they can get what appears to be a completely harmless exhibit canceled. The nerve! It was a chocolate Lord you asshats. Now, maybe I could understand their nervousness if it had been a chocolate Satan...(See, that's called a sense of humor.)

There could have been a really cool battle between chocolate Christ and chocolate Satan. Maybe a few smaller chocolate angels thrown in to ensure Christ's victory in a battle to the death. Last one with a morsel left wins!

So here's my thinking, once Catholic priests stop molesting children and those that did in the past are actually prosecuted, I will return to the church. My not going doesn't mean I'm not spiritual, just not interested in embracing hypocrisy.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

"I Snorted My Dad"

Bored? In need of some stimulation?

No problem, take a toke from Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richard's pipe and snort a relative. Yep, that's right. For completely unknown reasons he has just publicly stated that he snorted his dad's ashes. But hey, the ashes were mixed with cocaine so I guess that makes it OK??

Prose from Keith: “He was cremated, and I couldn’t resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn’t have cared,” he said, adding that “it went down pretty well, and I’m still alive.” Hmm, that's so unfortunate now that I know what a complete whack job you are, Keith.

At the other end of the news spectrum, have you heard the cry to beatify Pope John Paul II? He's been dead 2 years now and apparently many people think he should be declared a saint. Especially one nun who says he cured her Parkinson's disease. Uh huh. See, she had Parkinson's but then she prayed to Pope John Paul II and now she's cured. She says it's a miracle so he is deserving of sainthood. Hmm, do you think she's read "The Secret?"

Cool, so that's how it works. I guess I just need to pray to his holiness to have my husband stop making me attend boring dinners and events required by Asshat Corporation, have my numbers come up lucky in the lottery, and allow my dog to live forever while immediately "disappearing" my cats, and I'll lead the charge to declare his pontific papalness a saint, too.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Chocolate-Covered Strings

Holy crap, people, I won an award! My first evah and I cannot believe it! When I first started blogging, I routinely whored myself trying to win this award or that award and then I thought, WTF? Why do I need someone else to tell me whether I am worthy or not? Besides, I am lazy and all that whoring got way too time consuming.

Then, out of the blue, Bob-kat of
Bob-kat's House bestowed a tremendous honor on me. So tremendous that I must admit I do doubt my worth. I mean, the award is called the "Thinking Blogger." I could understand if maybe I had won the "Rants R Us" award or maybe the "You Are an Asshat Because..." award. Because you see, we don't do much actual thinking over here at In a Big Way. Goes against the corporate philosophy of "Don't do too much because then asshats will just ask you to do more."

But, as I
apparently have fooled Bob-Kat, I will semi-graciously accept my award and run. There are strings attached to this award I found, although they are good. One might call them "chocolate-covered strings" as now I get to bestow the Thinking Blogger award on 5 fellow bloggers. Bob-Kat already knighted a couple that I would also have chosen, so I will branch out into new territory.
  1. Buffy of Plain Simple English because she writes so beautifully and eloquently. Her blog certainly makes me think. Every time I read a post of hers, I think about how poor my writing skills are compared to hers.

  2. tfg of Assclownopolis is a blog I recently discovered but quickly became enamored of. His posts are so funny and clever. "Wordnerdery" approached genius status--I dare you to not laugh out loud.

  3. Carmen of Gone to Plaid is as delightful in real life as is projected through her writing. She makes ordinary situations entertaining and because she travels a lot, you will see fabulous pictures on her blog frequently. Plus, she has a cat named Pooh. How cute is that?

  4. Bluepaintred is another blog that regularly cracks me up. She's a mom to 3 boys and I swear she makes up the stories she posts of things they say. They're too over the top! I guess I have to believe the stories since she is often the instigator. For example, do you know any other moms who would put saran wrap over their kids bowls and toaster as an April Fool's joke??

  5. Finally, the blog that probably makes me think the most is PostSecret. I am absolutely fascinated by it. People send (through snail mail) postcards to Frank, the blog's creator, with their most intimate secrets written on them. Frank posts a new batch of "secrets" every Sunday. The blog has become so popular that he has had 3 books full of secrets published. You can buy the books at Barnes and Noble or from amazon.com.
If I've presented you with this glorious award, the participation rules are simple:

1) If you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think.
2) Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.
3) Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.