In a big way

Sagittal Hair

2007-07-03T10:21:00.001-04:00

Huh. Apparently that study I quoted yesterday that said excessive worrying takes 16 years off your life is a bunch of bunk because I'm still alive today.

Sagittal hair: The technical label for the trail of hair that leads from his abs down to his junk.

According to an Australian study (seriously, how do these wackass scientists get funding for these studies??), having sagittal hair increases your chances of collecting belly button lint.

The same study found that belly button lint is usually blue.

OK, how many of you just looked at your belly button lint?

Worrying

2007-07-02T15:32:00.000-04:00

So, I read that excessive worrying takes 16 YEARS off your life.

Crap, I'll be dead by morning.

So what, we're just supposed to stop cold turkey? Come one! Worrying is my drug of choice. I CHOOSE to worry. I enjoy the drama it creates in my life. Well, not really. I just tell myself that to avoid having to change. Change = Bad karma. Worrying = Cool panic attacks.

I've been:

a) Traveling the globe participating in competitive eating competitions. I won.
b) In a coma. I'm awake, it's a miracle!
c) In D.C. protesting to any politician who would listen to pass a law banning publicizing noncelebrities who are famous for doing nothing other than having money.

Missed ya.

Hello Bitches!

2007-06-06T08:52:00.000-04:00

Hello? Anyone still there?

Wow, that was quite a break, huh?

I took a couple weeks off to:

A) Go on a $$$ shopping spree in NYC.
B) Go trek up a mountain in Washington.
C) Check myself into rehab for Grey Goose overdosing.

Crap, none of the above. The real story is much less interesting. I was wallowing in self-pity, unable to contemplate anything but the two stupid Asshat Corp. functions I have to host with husband that are coming up. Maybe I'll at least have stories as entertaining as the lecherous Norwegian dude experience a la the Swedish Embassy Escapade of 2007 to share. No more boob tape, though. I call for a ban on boob tape!

The Grey Goose program does not seem to be working. May have to switch to Prozac...I'll keep ya posted. Suggestions welcome.

I'll stop by and say "hi" soon. I've missed you guys!

Oh, P.S., you know I wasn't really calling you a bitch, right? That "Hello Bitches" phrase is from a hilarious Dave Chappelle episode guest starring Wayne Brady as a pimp.

The Lost Weekend

2007-05-21T15:51:00.001-04:00

Was it just the weekend? Really, 'cause I don't recall. I felt the need to self-medicate to remove the bad Swedish aftertaste in my mouth. Must have been the Lutfisk. Oh, no wait, I'm pretty sure it was due to the skin-ripping boob tape and the drunk Norweigan. So, thank you Mr. Grey Goose for a lovely weekend.

Saw an interesting license plate (prior to conversing heavily with Mr. Grey Goose) that said "Rufh Rdr."

Took me a couple of minutes...I was thinking "roof raider" (hey, I had started chit chatting with Mr. Grey Goose so I was a little slow. I was not driving.) So when I figure out it's "rough rider," I looked at the driver as we went by, expecting a very buxom blonde.

Instead, I see a fat, bald guy driving a Nissan Altima. Wha?????

Dude, seriously? You need to rethink that plate. I'm thinking you should go more along the lines of "Tdy Bear."

P.S. The drive home from the Swedish dooda with the boss's wife was looooong. We were in the car a whole 5 minutes before she insulted the wife of another guy that works for her husband. Gah. I can't imagine what she must say behind my back. Oh, did I mention that she has no sense of humor and is a buxom blonde personal trainer?

Sweden Part Deux: Lecherous Norweigan Dude

2007-05-17T08:37:00.000-04:00

So, we last parted on the frizz-inducing patio overlooking the tennis court where George Bush the elder once played...

Finally it was time for dinner to be served. Well, I'm just a naive idiot in not realizing I wouldn't be seated next to my husband. But, not only was I not next to him (or even within speaking distance of any of the 4 people from his company) but I was literally at one end of the table and he was at the other. WTH people?

The hostess gave some speech about it being Swedish custom to mix up the seating so you get to meet people. Hmm, wasn't aware that was known as a Swedish thing necessarily...

So, there were 18 of us and the dining table was just wide enough that you could not converse with the people across from you. It was kind of like chocolate behind glass--you can easily see the treat but cannot get to it.

I was seated with an older gentleman from Norway on my right and air on my left. I much preferred the company of the air, and as the night dragged on, I kept trying to unobstrusively scoot my chair more to the air side.

He seemed pleasant enough in the beginning, but I shortly sussed out that he was some kind of embassy-hopping gigolo. He was quick to inform me that he has now been to dinner at 5 different embassy residences (his favorite was the residence of the British ambassor because it was the most beautiful.) He is one of the owners of a steamship company and blah blah blah. I did my job and held up my end of the conversation but I didn't retain much of what he blathered on about.

All the while becoming more and more alarmed as he had literally 4 glasses of wine before the main course was even served. But hey, since he also ate 8 pieces of bread (I am not kidding) I figured that was sopping up all the alcohol.

The appetizer was delicious: Smoked salmon with creme fraiche (fancy sour cream) with a fried potato slice garnish. Good thing I like seafood because dinner was halibut (absolutely fabulous) with one of those cute little baby carrots that still has the top on, an artichoke heart, some unidentifible yellowish long rectangular vegetable?, and cream with a little bit of mashed potatoes added and a whole lot of garlic.

Usually, I don't eat anything with garlic at these type of things so as not to offend my dinner companions. Screw it. I practically licked it off the plate in hopes of driving Mr. Norway away. As dinner progressed, so did his wine consumption: At least 2 full glasses a red wine to go with the 4 glasses of white he'd already had, plus I don't know how many cocktails beforehand.

This caused him to begin placing his hand on my arm, or uh, the vicinity of my arm as he seemed to miss quite often and brush my boob or thigh. I kept looking down at my cleavage (although not as much as he did) to ensure the sticky tape was still in place.

Then he proceeded to tell me how he was the president of some stag club (no women allowed!) that got together once a month to get drunk and tell dirty jokes. Fascinating dinner conversation, I was so impressed. The name was something like The Cod Club. Um, what do you say to that??

Thank the Lord he would also talk occasionally with his dinner companion to his right (remember, I had air on my other side which was just fine). She was a lady from Hong Kong now living in Minnesota and she, too, seemed normal at first.

Now, she said several times she was from Hong Kong, but Mr. Norway somehow missed that (or was just an idiot) and kept referring to her as Chinese. At one point, we were talking about Las Vegas (Ms. Hong Kong saying how everything including the women were fake, me commenting on how extensive the shopping options are, Mr. Norway wondering if you could just "buy," so to speak, a woman off the street), when Mr. Norway turns to my cleavage and blurts out, "You know, the Chinese are big gamblers."

Seriously, the high point of the night. Ms. Hong Kong glares at him and says huffily, "I am NOT Chinese." You go, girl.

Dessert sucked big time. Some pear-flavored "froth," a 1 inch square of dry, tasteless sponge cake, and 1 whole teaspoon of pear (again!) sorbet.

Finally dinner was over and I could escape Mr. Norway. Then it was coffee in another room where I could actually stand next to my husband.

The next morning, husband announced that if I still wanted to replace the wooden balustrades in our staircase with decorative iron ones, I could go ahead and do that. Uh huh, that's what I thought.

Sweden Part I: Boob Tape Debacle

2007-05-17T08:07:00.000-04:00

Double-sided boob sticky tape, AWOL ambassador, and lecherous Norweigans...Oh My! (chanted to "Lions, tigers, and bears...Oh My!" in your best Dorothy from Wizard of the Oz voice)

Hmm, where to start? This might be a two-parter, people.

First off, when I purchased my cocktail dress for this shindig, I tried it on in two different sizes, let's just refer to them as "A" and "B" since numbers are so mentally damaging m'kay? Both sizes fit, but in the end, I decided the smaller size was a little too tight under the arms and the wrap style halter top had too little material in the boob area. I bought the larger size along with some industrial strength double-sided tape specifically intended to keep clothes attached to skin. (They don't tell you that your skin also comes off along with the tape at the end of the night, but we can save that for Part II.)

Well, when I went to put on the dress last night, lo and behold, I had actually purchased the smaller size, not the larger one as I intended. F&^k and many such accompanying words ensued. Husband stood nervously by, "Uh, it looks fine to me." Really? Really a&^hole because it's so NOT! How is it that men always know the exact wrong thing to say at the exact wrong moment? Really, it must be an inbred gift or something.

I had no other cocktail dresses just sitting around in my closet (imagine!) so I was stuck. I grabbed the boob tape and we got in the car. No problem, I figured, I had a good 2 1/2 hours of drive time to both swear at my husband AND strategically tape the dress to avoid serving my boobs for dinner.

Ha! This tape is not that easy to use, people! Why didn't someone tell me? Like the sales lady that sold it to me with a smile while saying, "This is our most popular brand." Really? Really b*&ch because it's so not working! At least half the roll ended up in little sticky balls all over the car before I successfully removed the "Easy to remove backing" from one piece.

Oh, another little tip. Even though it says "safe for all clothes" that actually does not include silk. The dress is now ruined, not that I could wear it again as it became tighter and tighter under my arms as the night dragged on and I wanted nothing more than to cut it up into little tiny pieces and burn them while doing tequila shooters.

So, needless to say, I needed the full 2 1/2 hours to do the tapeage. We arrive, only to be informed that his Excellency the Ambassador was called away at the last minute to a meeting in CA with Governor Schwarzenegger. Wha?

Yep. So instead our host was his second in command, the Deputy Ambassador of Sweden (not exactly sure if that's her title, I wasn't paying attention as I really needed to pee. 2 1/2 drive! Plus, had to check the tape was still holding!) And, it was a woman as Sweden is very forward in their Women's Movement she said. Cool, where's the restroom?

We were herded outside for cocktails. Great, I spent a frickin' hour blow drying and curling the mane and it had just rained so the humidity was around 90%. GAH. But hey, I did get to see the tennis court that George Bush the elder played on with the former ambassador. Truly worth ruining good hair, right?

OK, this is getting long and boring...Part deux another time which will feature the lecherous Norweigan guy who was my dinner companion. ACK

Instant Gratification Please

2007-05-16T12:03:00.000-04:00

So, should I be concerned that every time I ask the guy building our deck if he'd like some water or Coke he says, "No, but I'd sure love some beer." It's 10 a.m. ya'll!

Ok, I don't really say "ya'll" but I'm trying to fit in here in my adopted country of VA. Oh, you didn't know it was a whole separate country? I didn't either until I moved I moved to the South. Miss Impatient-Pants does NOT like how everything is sooooooo slooooooooow here...Give it to me now, you guys! Yep, much more of a "you guys" and "instant gratification" kind of gal.

Anyway, Mr. Coors Light building the deck has amazing bronzed muscles. The kind you get from hard, physical, sweaty labor, not pumping iron in an air conditioned gym. [drool] If I could do it without getting caught, I would so take a picture (for you all, not me, of course) 'cause we are talking F-I-N-E. But, since I am more Lucille Ball than Marilyn Monroe, I'm positive he would catch me with the camera and then what? I'd probably have to buy him a gajibillion cases of Coors Light to keep his mouth shut.

Oh hey, remember yesterday when I was going to write the nice post and then said you weren't getting it just like my husband and then it all went down hill from there into spankings with wooden spoons and setting purses afire?

Well, you're still not getting that post. I'm practicing my withholding strategy. OK, I'm not, but I wanted to tell you that GAH, guess who we're driving back from D.C. tonight after dinner with Ambassador Pickled Herring?

Yep, the boss's wife. Can you believe that crap? I couldn't. I've already informed husband that HE can make conversation with her because I #1 Don't talk to wack jobs, and #2 Will be all conversed out after chatting up Gunnar and blondie (you know she's got to be blonde!).

Apparently her husband is staying in D.C. for a meeting the following day (don't believe it) so we get to drive Mrs. Boss back.

Tune in tomorrow as I'll be sure to let you know the highlights...

Buzz Kill

2007-05-15T13:43:00.000-04:00

Well, I had a lovely post all prepared for you today (in my head but still!) but you're not getting it.

My husband has heard those words a lot lately, and I'm so frickin' pissed I think I may just say them for the next, oh, 6 months, possibly 6 years, unless he makes some grand gesture (read: bright, shiny AND very expensive) worthy of some bedpost shaking.

I've never threatened to withhold sex in the past; it seems rather pointless because who does it really punish? Is it supposed to be one of those "This will hurt you more than it hurts me" deals that my Mom always yelled while beating my ass with a wooden spoon?

[Quick poll: How many others also got beaten with the wooden spoon? We should form a club, maybe The Wooden Spooners. Oh no wait, that sounds like geriatric porn or something. You come up with the club name and extra points if the spoon actually broke on your butt.]

Back to the rant, gah, I hate when I get distracted mid-rant. I really lose steam, quite a buzz kill. Kind of like back in high school, or maybe last night for you, and you're guzzling the Boone's Strawberry Hill crapola they have the nerve to label "wine" but you don't care 'cause hey, it's still alcoholic, and then you see a cop drive by which freaks you out so much you pour all your beautiful wine out the open car door as you drive 25 mph around town for an hour.

Or, when you're smoking some good stuff and all the sudden you realize there's too much smoke because your BFF "accidentally" set your new crochet purse with the cool wooden handles on fire. Damn.

Huh. Really got off track. Let's just go with it. What's your buzz kill (besides an annoying husband 'cause I've got that one covered)? Oh, and while we're at it, have you ever withheld sex to get what you wanted, and if so, how'd that work for ya?

I Don't Like Pickled Herring

2007-05-14T08:22:00.000-04:00

So, another Corporate Wife Command Performance has reared its ugly head.

Once again, my husband has waited until the last minute to tell me because he knows how much I hate these things. It's not just that I'm shy and don't like to be thrust into a roomful of strangers, but more that I resent being told where to go, what to wear, who to talk to, etc. I don't like not having a choice, especially since I'm not on the payroll. And, if Asshat Corp. wants to tell me what to wear, I think they should foot the bill for the dress I'll never wear again. (God forbid you repeat an outfit.)

This week we will be dining with His Excellency, the Ambassador of Sweden, and his lovely wife at their residence in Washington D.C. It will be a very small gathering; just us, my husband's boss and his wife, and one other couple from my husband's company.

So, suggestions on what the hell to talk to them about? Unfortunately, I've never been to Sweden.
Um, how are those sky-high taxes working out for your citizens?
Gee, I just love ABBA! I saw Mamma Mia a couple of years ago.
While I'm not fond of herring, I do love most fish.

More unfortunate, based on past experience I know that my husband's boss's wife will be judging my "performance." I want to throw up already. I'm sure she's spend hours already researching Sweden and has an entire scrapbook completed. (You think I'm joking? I'm so not.)

Although this is certainly one of the more interesting "command performances," I still feel so awkward and uncomfortable. These events will never be effortless for me, and I will always resent Asshat Corp. for telling me what to do.

But hey, I guess it's better than "Black Tie Casino Night" that we're hosting in August. Can't wait to have the client look down my dress as I throw the dice. Gack.

Freaky Thursday

2007-05-10T14:05:00.000-04:00

OK, I just read that John Wilkes Booth (killed President Lincoln), James Earl Ray (killed Martin Luther King), and Mark David Chapman (killed John Lennon) were ALL born on May 10.

Coinkydink? I think not.

Seriously, is that not a mind-blower? I think I'm going to have to ask everyone I meet from now on their birthday. If it's May 10, I'm running.

What's the Controversy Here?

2007-05-10T13:14:00.000-04:00

Have you been following all the controversy around the HPV (human papilloma virus) vaccine?

I'm really intrigued by this. This is a vaccine that can save women's lives by preventing cervical cancer. But when Texas governor Rick Perry tried to get a law passed to require 6th grade girls to get the vaccine, he was crucified.

Parents are saying that the government should not be able to tell them what to do with their children. Hello? Don't they already in so many other ways? But anyway, I'm just really curious why it bother parents so much when it could save lives.

I've heard some mothers say that 6th grade is too soon to talk to their daughters about sex (because HPV is transmitted sexually). While I definitely disagree with that, who says they have to talk about sex to have their daughters vaccinated? Did they tell them why they were getting the chicken pox vaccination or any other vaccination?

What am I missing here? Wouldn't you want to do everything possible to protect your child? The FDA has approved the vaccine and said that it does indeed protect women against four strains of the sexually transmitted HPV infection. Is there something we don't know?

Word of the Day #2

2007-05-09T13:55:00.000-04:00

The Word of the Day (besides "asshat" which is always the word of the day) is "mirthful."

mirth·ful [murth-fuhl]
–adjective

1.	joyous; gay; jolly: a mirthful laugh.

2.	providing mirth; amusing: a mirthful experience.

I am thrilled with the mirthful news that Paris Hilton will be spending 45 days in jail for driving on a suspended license. She was not able to buy her way out of this one.

I experienced much mirth over hearing her responses to the judge who asked if she had actually read the traffic violations and legal documents provided to her that clearly spelled out jail would be the consequence for not heeding her license suspension.

Her reply? “I have people who do that for me,” she told a judge. Then, she felt the need to add, “I just sign what people tell me to sign.”

Buh bye.

What is causing you mirth today?

Whatever

2007-05-08T09:25:00.000-04:00

I'm back from visiting my brother and his family in Florida. Didn't know I was gone did ya?

My parents were also there visiting at the same time so I was happy to see them, too. But dang, I'm truly depressed now. My brother's 9-year-old son from his first marriage also lives in FL, but his mother is moving him to Kansas despite my brother spending thousands of dollars on a lawyer to try and prevent this.

He's heartbroken, as we all are, over my nephew moving so far away. As if that wasn't enough, he just had major back surgery and is trying to recover from that ordeal.

I guess it could be worse. When I read the paper this morning I was bombarded with these ads, "Tired of using Meth?" and "Do you drink too much?"

What the hell? Apparently, if you're on meth or an alcoholic, you can get free help and more drugs. Sure, they're experimental drugs, but they're drugs! And free! Really, I'm glad someone is trying to help the poor crank users, but I am curious who is funding the research in the "state-of-the-art" treatment facility with "payment for attending."

There's an idea; give drugs users cash. I'm sure they'll use it wisely.

What about some free programs for kids who don't have parents at home after school? How about more money to care for homeless, mentally ill people? How about money to help abused animals?

Oh, whatever. Dream on.

Gee, Why Didn't I Think of That

2007-05-03T13:38:00.000-04:00

Well, just when you think you've seen/heard/burped it all...you get a big 'ol slap across the kisser.

This is a letter to the editor that appeared recently in the Richmond paper:

"I have the answer to American's obesity crisis: Gas prices should be based upon the driver's weight. Before you pump you gas, you step on a scale. If you weigh 150 pounds, you pay $1.50 per gallon. That would definitely make me think twice before pulling into Krispy Kreme's drive-through."

Huh. Where to begin...

First, I was surprised that this letter was written by a woman because what woman hasn't struggled with her weight?

Second, I am shocked this moron can even write let alone lick a stamp to mail such crapola. She must not care what people think of her, because after writing such obnoxious drivel her neighbors have to be shunning her.

Third, not only is her idea prejudicial, it's just plain stupid. What's going to stop me from grabbing the 20-lb. neighbor boy to go with me when I buy gas? Heck, skinny kids would be hanging out at all the gas stations charging a $1 per gallon to get on the scale for you.

Honestly, I cannot even imagine what would possess someone to want such a lame and malicious concept published for all the world to see.

So here's MY answer to America's obesity crisis: Fine idiots like this lady thousands of dollars for being stupid. Put the millions of dollars that would accrue daily into an interest-earning account. Draw on the principal to pay companies a "fat-fighting" fee if they are willing to let their employees take 1 hour during every work day to exercise. Companies who provide an on-site gym, trainers, and only healthy snacks in vending machines get a higher FF fee.

You have something better?

MELTDOWN

2007-05-03T08:13:00.000-04:00

Kudos to tgf of Assclownopolis who correctly guessed the state the dueling asshats were from...West Virginia.

Many of you knew it had to be somewhere in the South...I really thought I gave it away by subtly implying the duelers were related due to some serious inbreeding--a well known WV trait. Peter of Holties House seriously cracked me up by guessing NY or Boston, but hey, he lives in Australia so we'll cut him some slack.

Here's how my conversation with the worst cable TV provider (Comcast) went yesterday after my cable went out at 10:45 a.m. Note that some conversations might be ever so slightly exaggerated or embellished to give you the full flavor of what I had to deal with.

Comcast Idiot: Hi, this is Darlene your Comcast representative and I hate you already.

Me: Uh, what? Look Dimwit, my cable has been out for about 2 hours now.

Comcast Idiot: Yeah? Guess you're screwed.

Me: Well, can someone come and fix it?

Comcast Idiot: Nope. Ya wanna buy our service plan? For $2000 a month it covers any problems with your internal wiring.

Me: No! There is not a problem with the wiring IN the house. I think the guys building the house next door accidentally cut the line. But, even if there was a problem with the wiring in my house, why would I have to pay to have it fixed? I think you're the one whose "internal wiring" is on the fritz.

Comcast Idiot: We got a special going on right now where you get two free digital boxes, OK?

Me: What's the catch?

Comcast Idiot: Well, they are only free for 12 months and then you have to start paying for them.

Me: Right, no thanks. When can someone fix my cable?

Comcast Idiot: Hoo boy, you're not gonna be able to watch who gets voted off that 'merican Idol show tonight. Hey, we offer phone and internet service, too. You want either of those?

Me: NO! What I want is my cable fixed. I had your %$# internet service for 2 months before I switched companies because it never worked.

Comcast Idiot: Yeah, we hear that a lot. 'K, someone will be there between 8:00 a.m. and midnight tomorrow. Ya gotta be home or they'll go away and never come back.

Me: Are you kidding me? You mother^%$#ing ass%$#s! Get out here now and fix my &*^% cable!

Comcast Idiot: Bye, ya'll have a nice day now.

Dueling Asshats

2007-05-02T08:42:00.000-04:00

So, if I were to tell you a man was just shot in a real-life duel, what state comes to mind?

You probably don't need any clues, but let me add that an argument involving ATVs (all terrain vehicles) led to the duel. What's your guess now?

OK, last clue...the two dueling men were related because Dueler A's mom married Dueler B's brother who was her cousin because his Dad married his first cousin three times removed after she was first married to Dueler A's uncle Jim Bob.

Yeah, OK, that last clue may not be true. I mean, that relationshipp wasn't actually spelled out in the newspaper article, but I was able to make an educated guess based on the state the duelers were from. Yes, I know I'm being nasty but this is new information to you why?

Tune in tomorrow for the revealing of the state! I'm sure you already guessed it, but I'm practicing for my own reality show, "Stupid is As Stupid Does" and it seems to be a requirement that the show must drag on for 2 days each week and include lots of fluff-type filler.

I have sent away for both my required host whore costume, complete with sparkles, spangles, AND beads, as well as my in-home Magik Spray Tan Gunk which is guaranteed to make my skin eleventy-five shades darker. My appointment with a cosmetic dentist for veneers, porcelain overlays, bleaching, and straightening is Thursday. Too much?

To Tell or To Not To Tell?

2007-05-01T08:27:00.000-04:00

Dum dah dum dah...dilemma time. I need advice, people.

I'm still rolling around with the dogs here.

The friends with the yappy Chihuahua I watched last Saturday are visiting in 3 weeks. They will bring the demon dog.

The dilemma is, do I tell my friend that the last two times her dog has visited I have found pee on my carpet afterward? Now, I can't guarantee it was her dog, but I know if wasn't mine (because he was with me.) But, I can't say for sure it wasn't one of my two cats, but they have never ever not used their litter box. Which leads me to conclude the obvious. It was this uber bratty dog marking his territory.

I think that because it was a small amount, not like he really had to go and couldn't hold it. And, the first time it was in MY bedroom which is clearly my dog's domain. The second time it was on the third floor which is clearly the cats' domain (litter box and their food).

See, if I tell her about the peeing, I know somehow it will backfire and she just won't visit. I don't mean she won't bring the dog with her, oh no, she just won't come in some sort of bizarre passive-aggressive thing that will somehow turn out to be my fault.

Being a dog lover myself, I can understand not wanting to leave your dog in a kennel. I have never done that with my own dog because he came from a rescue organization and was in a small, concrete kennel for a year. But, I have hired pet sitters to come in 3 times a day to take care of him.

My friend has taken her dog to kennels before, but now doesn't want to anymore because she feels bad leaving her dog there. How can I argue with that? And, she insists she cannot find a pet sitter in her area. She has called several and they either don't call her back or something or other. She actually had one she used twice and then that person moved.

Gah! So, what to do??

Does Fido Want Prozac or a Mood Ring?

2007-04-30T09:04:00.000-04:00

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.

You're My Penis Fish

2007-04-27T08:28:00.001-04:00

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?"

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

2007-04-26T13:52:00.000-04:00

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?

Alcatraz Mystique

2007-04-25T18:58:00.000-04:00

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.

Can You See It?

2007-04-24T18:50:00.000-04:00

"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

2007-04-24T08:20:00.000-04:00

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?

Reason Eleventy-Seven and a Half Why

2007-04-23T08:21:00.000-04:00

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.

My Turn with Barbara Walters

2007-04-19T16:55:00.000-04:00

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

2007-04-19T09:42:00.000-04:00

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.

Prosthetic Legs and Ultrasounds

2007-04-13T08:46:00.000-04:00

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.

Snow Angel

2007-04-12T09:21:00.000-04:00

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.

More Cowbell!

2007-04-11T08:44:00.000-04:00

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?

Things That Make You Go "Hmm"

2007-04-05T09:30:00.000-04:00

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.

Chocolate Christ vs. Chocolate Satan

2007-04-04T13:02:00.000-04:00

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.

"I Snorted My Dad"

2007-04-03T17:14:00.000-04:00

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.

Chocolate-Covered Strings

2007-04-02T17:07:00.000-04:00

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.

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.
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.
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?
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??
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.

Schrute's Space

2007-03-29T09:05:00.000-04:00

Mwahahaha!

I don't care who you are, you have to love the Dwight Schrute character on NBC's sitcom "The Office." Rainn Wilson is so perfect for that role, although you also may remember him as a mortician's assistant from HBO's Six Feet Under.

Rainn actually writes a blog as his character, Dwight. It's hilarious! For example, his latest post talks about how he wants his funeral to be conducted and the things he wants with him in his coffin, which will be made out of Dunder Mifflin paper boxes by the way.

Check it out.

The Road to Hell

2007-03-28T13:04:00.000-04:00

Newsweek's special issue dated April 2 is one worth buying.

The majority of it is devoted to sharing letters and emails written by American soldiers fighting in Iraq to their loved ones back home. All the correspondence featured is from soldiers who, unfortunately, never came home and never will. It makes what they wrote all the more chilling, inspiring, and agonizing, especially when you think about how many of their comrades are still there with no end in sight. (Their loved ones gave permission for the publication of their letters.)

This isn't about whether you believe in the war or not, it's about respecting and honoring those who have willing chosen to perform a service that not many would.

I'm just going to share one of the many stories that left me with my mouth hanging open, but certainly buy this Newsweek edition and read them all; they are so worth it.

ARMY NATIONAL GUARD SPC. MICHAEL G. MIHALAKIS
Nov. 2, 2002, Fort Leonard Wood, MO. (Basic Training)

I don't even recognize myself anymore. I have a completely shaved head, Army uniforms, and zero fat. The very few seconds I get to look in the mirror while I shave each morning, I try to remember who I used to be. Every soldier is going through the same change. It doesn't matter who you are: prom queen, high school football star, scholar, idiot, or whatever. As soon as you get here, you become a copy of the person next to you. It sounds like hell, and to tell you the truth, it is. But I'm loving every minute. I'm learning so many cool things.

July 2, Baghdad
How can I possibly put the last 7 days into words? We got into Baghdad on the 2nd of July. It was about an 8-hour drive from the Kuwait border to Baghdad. When we crossed the border it was like entering a new world. The sides of the roads were covered wtih starving Iraqis begging for food. Kids as young as what looked to be 4 or 5 would run up tot the vehicles. We were given a direct order by the company commander not to throw food or water to the starving people because there are too many Iraqis getting run over by our convoys when they run after the food. It is so hard to tell a starving 5-year-old who is begging for food to go away. Every time our convoy would stop, we would be ambushed by kids trying to get food; it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to watch.

Finally, I gave in. Sitting up in the gunner's hatch, I can see everything. A sickly barefooted 6-year-old approached the vehicle; he looked so sick. He was touching his lips saying "please, please." I told him to go away and he just looked up at me. It looked like he wasn't going to make it much longer in the 133-degree weather we had that day. Again, I shouted "kief!" which is "go" in Arabic, and I pointed. As we drove away, I threw an ice-cold bottle of water out the window to him. Luckily no one saw me.

I love you guys. And please try not to think too much about it, it sounds a lot worse than it is.

Mihalakis died of injuries sustained when his Humvee overturned on Dec. 26. He was 18.

Philosophizing

2007-03-26T16:08:00.000-04:00

I was entertained by these Lyrics to Live By in the latest issue of Men's Health. What? I do too read the articles! They are very informative about, ah, men and their health and stuff. Oh, and there are all sorts of pictures of hot guys with washboard abs and tight tushies. Snicker, snicker.

"Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug."
Dire Straits, "The Bug"
This is just pure poetry.

"Savor the throne, but don't mind the stool."
Steve Winwood, "Take It As It Comes"

"When the grass is cut, the snakes will show."
Jay-Z, "Blueprint 2"
Which grass do you think he's referring to?

"Free your mind and your ass will follow."
Funkadelic, "Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts"
What the hell does this mean? What were they smokin' to come up with that?

"You can't change a turd into gold."
Ramones, "Eat that Rat"
Hmm, very reminiscent of my husband's, "If it looks like a pig, call it a pig."

"An honest man's pillow is his peace of mind."
John Mellencamp, "Minutes to Memories"
So true! Sing it, Cougar.

"Bury the hatchet, but leave the handle stickin' out."
Garth Brooks, We Bury the Hatchet"
Not really a country music fan, but I can totally relate to this lyric.

"The ones that you're calling wild are going to be the leaders in a little while."
Johnny Cash, "What is Truth"
Could you scare me a little more, Johnny? I think not.

"It's hard to remember we're alive for the last time."
Modest Mouse, "Lives"
This is something that the gang from That 70s Show would have sat around the table discussing after smoking some weed.
Fez: Who you calling "alive"? Who has some candy?
Michael: Wow, so we were alive before? Heh, heh.
Steven: Smacks Michael.
Jackie: Michael! Would you have loved me even more if you knew this was the last time we were going to be alive? I know you would have. Donna, probably no one ever loved you in another life as much as Michael loves me in this one.
Donna to Jackie: Did you just say something? Your mouth was moving but I was so distracted by that one curly chin hair you have I didn't hear a word you said.

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
John Lennon, "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)"

Blogging Buddy

2007-03-26T13:23:00.000-04:00

What a weekend!

I met a blogging buddy in real life, how cool is that? You probably already read her blog as she is very popular...I met Carmen of "Gone to Plaid" and her delightful feline "Pooh." Both were utterly charming and Carmen is a tiny little thing; her pictures don't do her justice. Be sure to go over to Carmen's as she posted some great pics of Pooh playing with the catnip mouse I brought him.

Carmen and I put these really cool decals on a wall in her house. They look just like painted stencils so people will think you spent hours on them. We had a great lunch at an outdoor shopping mall--good people watching, and did a little a shopping.

So, once again my husband was wrong since Carmen turned out to be neither an axe murderer or man masquerading as a woman.

Has anyone else met a blogging friend?

Dropping Albums and Acid

2007-03-22T15:44:00.000-04:00

OK! I think we are all done with whore-to-go outfits and boob glitter. Such fun while it lasted.

Richmond, VA (where I live) pretty much shut down yesterday as homeboy and former American Idol contestant Elliot Yamin was in town for his album dropping. (dropping = me using hep language.)

Dude has got hair out to HERE! Oh, you can't see my hands. Trust me, he's got the big white boy 'fro working. And AGAIN with the 10-year-old girls crying!! WTF people. This has seriously got to stop as it has rocketed into the top 5 on my Annoyance Scale.

I mean, I can totally understand all the girls crying and carrying on in the '60s with the Beatles and the Monkees as those groups were 1) Actually good, and 2) Everybody was dropping acid. So in actuality, all the crying and carrying on was due to some major hallucinatory tripping.

Remember all the psychedelic colors in the '60s and '70s? All a result of clothing designers trying to visualize their hallucinations via clothes. There are probably several books and scholarly articles on this very phenomenon, but I don't have time to research it for you today. I'll get back to you.

One more thing, do you think it's a coinkydinky that albums and acid are both "dropped"? Just sayin'.

Annoyance Scale (Subject to change daily)

Asshat drivers. Especially minivan drivers on cell phones--you so know who you are.
10-year-old girls who cry for no reason, i.e., because bad singers who are so cute will never make their fantasies come true.
My husband not being able to master cleaning the kitchen counters. How hard is it? We have a rule, I make the dinner, you clean the counters. The world will explode if you keep failing to clean the fucking counters.
Anna Nicole, Howard K., Larry, Dannielynn, and assorted alleged fathers of Dannielynn--enough already!
Flaky, pie-crusty friends.
Tell me yours.

Update: Whore-to-Go

2007-03-22T08:37:00.000-04:00

Sadly, I must report losing out on a gorgeous "whore-to-go" outfit up for sale on Ebay by a former Dancing With the Stars contestant. I think it was one of Lisa Rinna's which 1) Wouldn't have covered even one of my butt cheeks, and 2) It was probably covered in self-tanner that she sweated off while dancing.

Not sure who outbid me...I think it was a guy named "Tony" from New Jersey.

Anyway, my husband will have to make do with the "Boobs-A-Shimmer" glitter I'm going to purchase from the local CVS drugstore and my own lingerie.

I was very perplexed this morning to find an article about American Idol contestant Chris Richardson almost being voted off last night in the "World News" section of the Richmond Times Dispatch. Granted, he is from VA (Chesapeake) but there were no coups in some foreign country to report? I would have even considered news of Madonna adopting another child in an attempt to keep up with Angelina Jolie world-section worthy.

Anyway, I am happy he was not voted off. Disgusted Sanjaya and his hair were not even in the bottom three. Amused that AI showed the ridiculous 10-year-old girl making a complete spectacle of herself actually crying over his performance the night before. Seriously, that is why he is still on the show...10-year-old girls uniting everywhere to vote for him so they can continue their fantasy of him miracuously showing up at their house and asking them to run away with him. (Hey, clearly I did my share of Harlequin romance reading in my early years.)

Good Day. I said, Good Day.

Fire! And more Whore-to-Go!

2007-03-21T09:07:00.000-04:00

Oh, the injustice!

Very first time using my new fire-engine red potholders last night and I managed to set them aflame. While they were on my hands. I watched as the flames licked happily along edges, growing ever larger and wondered, “Huh, why aren’t these suckers (OK, I might have thought ‘&uckers’) flame retardant?”

‘Cause really? Asshat potholder makers everywhere, wouldn’t that be the MOST important factor in constructing a piece of material that is going to be in close contact with extreme heat? I’m just sayin’.

I barely grazed the broiler coil with them as I tried to get my fish out (sea bass in coconut milk with diced tomatoes and adobo seasoning) and they immediately burst into flame. So entertaining, I couldn’t look away! Until I began to feel the heat on my skin and the fire alarm went off. My husband barely looked up from his laptop as the fire alarm going off is a weekly occurrence at our house. What? I can cook, I just like doing so at high temperatures which seem to set off the alarm for no damn reason apparent to moi.

Anyway, no time to talk today! Very busy! Must go search ebay (Thanks Tim , brilliant idea) for “whore-to-go” outfits so I too can look like a cheap strumpet on Dancing With the Stars (see yesterday's post). Now, if only I could dance…hmm, I don’t think my husband will be too concerned with that part.

Dancing With the Ding Dongs

2007-03-20T08:51:00.000-04:00

Not sure if you're aboard the trainwreck that is "Dancing With the Stars," but I simply cannot look away no matter how much my husband complains--loudly and bitterly--about being forced to watch the show.

I really have no sympathy for him, seeing how little some of the ladies wear to dance on that show. And indeed, he did have to make the obligatory smary comment about why don't I wear an outfit like that. When I informed him that they cost thousands of dollars his brilliant reply was to just get one without all the sequins. Yep, sure, that's what I'm going to do for you, honey, I'll just zip in to Target tomorrow and pick up one whore-to-go outfit.

Anyway, just had to mention two of the best one-liners that I've heard in a while. The Italian judge Bruno cracks me up every show with his outrageous accent and affect. He was in fine form last night, telling still stunning supermodel Paulina Portapotty, "You are dinner, lunch, AND breakfast at Tiffany's!" Get it? Really, I thought that was quite clever.

But my favorite came from former NBA star, 6'7" Clyde "The Glide" Drexler, who referred to the height difference between himself and his 5'4" co-star like this: "If the moves are tight, you won't notice the height." Come on, that's smoooooooooth!

What was with Ian Zeiring's intro bit? You know, with the self-important posing by his supposed to impress the little people convertible? I hope he was trying to be self-deprecating. But, probably not when he actually had the balls to say, "I'm probably best known for 90210." Huh, ya think? 'Cause if you've done anything else since then, America has missed it. I thought he danced well, though.

I also like Apolo Anton Ohno. 1) Because dang, that is one cool ass name and, 2) I saw him win gold medals in the past 2 winter olympics--very impressive.

Am I the only one that thought former beauty pageant winner Shandi Poo was a little too full of herself? I liked when judge Bruno called her on the fake smiling throughout the entire routine, to which she continued to fake smile at him.

Who do you like?

Flaky Friends

2007-03-19T09:18:00.000-04:00

Gah! Please tell me I am not the only one with flaky friends!

I'm thinking "flaky" is the correct spelling, not "flakey" because they aren't a piecrust, right?

I think I am a pretty kickass friend; I'm loyal to the core. If I say I'm going to do something, be somewhere, whack someone for ya, I WILL. So how is it that one of my best friends is a big non-committer?

Says she'll come for the weekend and then cancels, somehow forgetting she has invited a bunch of people over to her house for a barbecue that weekend. See, I don't get how that can happen, especially if you own a calendar. Of course, I am a tad anal and would already have the menu planned at that point.

Yet, when she suggests the following weekend I just nod dumbly. I feel like I'm a big, goofy labrador retriever and she's the pretty, prissy poodle. Everything is fine with a lab! You want to go on a walk? Yes, so do they! You want to plant flowers? Why, they were just going to suggest a roll in the grass outside! You want a snack? It's always their favorite time to eat!

Hmm, OK perhaps I got a smidge off track there; comparing my friend to a poodle, but I don't think I did well with metaphors in English class.

Which reminds me of high school--did you know they still sell those Biore nose strips that are supposed to pull out all the blackheads on your nose? Crazy! Let me tell ya, they also rip off some skin. I guess that's the "exfoliating" part. I just like looking at the strip afterward for evidence that the icky gunk that was in my skin is now out. Who can resist looking? Anyway, save your money, my icky gunk is still on my nose.

The Big Kiss Off

2007-03-15T08:19:00.000-04:00

Husband and I are planning a vacation and I couldn't be happier.

1) Because we haven't been on a non-work vacation in a few years, and 2) We're going the Friday before Thanksgiving and returning the Friday after.

Yep, we'll be missing Thanksgiving with his parents. Do you see me crying? AND, the best part is that it was entirely my husband's idea to go at that time of the year. I had nothing to do with it, not that I'm complaining, but I'm sure my mother-in-law will think it's all part of my nefarious plan to turn her son against her.

Normally, we wouldn't dream of blowing off a family-required holiday in favor of a family-free vacation (OK, I would and do fantasize about it, but wouldn't cause problems by actually doing it), but because we now live so close to my inlaws we feel we can justify being gone on a holiday. Because we'll just see them the following weekend! It's genius, really.

I'm just curious--has anyone else taking off on their own instead of spending the holiday with family? Maybe it's a little different since we don't have kids. We alternate spending Thanksgiving and Christmas each year with each family, i.e., this year it's Thanksgiving with the inlaws and Christmas with my family, and then next year we switch families.

Does anyone else do that? How do you handle juggling holidays? Oh, and we're going to St. Kitts, has anyone been there?

Here's Your Sign

2007-03-14T09:25:00.000-04:00

Sigh

Some days you can just predict how the day will go. Like when you take your dog for his morning walk, squat down to retrieve his poo like the good citizen that you are, and find your poo bag has a huge hole in it.

Major malaise lately...maybe it's just that I'm sick of hearing about Anna Nicole, Britney Spears, and American Idol when our soldiers are trying to heal in disgusting, mold-covered rooms at Walter Reed Hospital. Are we letting them down or what? Unbelievable.

I did get a laugh when it came out that pompous blowhard Newt Gingrinch admitted to an extramarital affair while he was leading the impeachment charge against President Clinton for having sex with "that woman" in the Oval Office and lying about it. But of course, he's the much better man because he didn't lie to the American people about his nookie. Really? I consider the sin of omission a lie, asshat.

Anyway, what's your sign that your day is going down the crapper?

My Love Affair with Stupid People

2007-03-12T12:44:00.000-04:00

Gah, save me from stupid people. No wait, then I'd have nothing to talk about. I heart you stupid people everywhere!

OK, how about the gambling site that is taking bets on whether Heather Mills’ artificial leg will fall off during her upcoming appearance on “Dancing with the Stars.” Come on, that's a little bit funny. Everyone is thinking about it since they first announced she would be on the show; these clowns are just the first enterprising ones to cash in on the possible flying limbage.

Did you hear about the ding dong in Connecticut who thinks ski masks have gotten a bad rap? You know, what with the bank robberies, hold ups, and other assorted mayhem they're usually worn for pulling off. So this asshat, Kevin Lambert, and his "friends" (I bet he pays them) have been wearing ski maks in public places in an attempt to dispel the bad stereotype associated with them. Hmm, methinks there is a bad stereotype associated with them for a reason, but hey, what do I, an ordinary, harmless, law-abiding citizen know?

He got this lightbulb idea back in 2005 when he put on a ski mask after exiting a store for an impromptu photograph. Wha?? Who does that? Then, oh gee what a surprise, a passer-by saw him in the mask and called police, fearing Kevin had just robbed the store. Doofus Mask Boy was charged with breach of peace and had to perform 15 hours of community service. Yet he still goes around donning the ski mask on occasion just to prove, oh I don't know what, that nice guys DO wear masks?

I'm sure some of you read about the housecat that went on a rampage and attacked its owner so severely she was hospitalized with over 20 serious puncture wounds. You thought of me, didn't you? After my post about my own charming little furballs. They did manage to make it through the weekend alive as they haven't destroyed anything else--yet. I'll let ya know.

I got a hoot from reading about "Gustav" the ostrich in Berlin. Gustav's owner is suing 3 teenagers, alleging the firecrackers they set off near his farm scared Gustav so badly that he can no longer perform his, ahem, breeding duties shall we say. The farmer wants over $6K in damages, claiming he lost out on 14 ostrich offspring. Hmm, maybe if he put a mask on Gustav the female ostrichs would find him sexy and mysterious he would overcome his inhibitions. I just love the ostrich's name, Gustav. How cool is that? You just had to know that an ostrich named Gustav would be tempermental and flighty.

Spawns of Satan

2007-03-09T08:14:00.000-04:00

If cats were spiders, I'd be getting out my can of industrial strength Raid.

I've truly had it with my two, who have never met a table they didn't scratch, a breakable they didn't break, or oh, I don't know, a Christmas fucking tree they didn't knock over. I awoke this morning, at 5 a.m. let me add, to the sound of vacuuming.

Of course the good one (that would be the dog) was fast asleep on his bed, snoring gently, paws twitching as he dreamed his sweet, innocent doggy dreams of chasing squirrels and breaking nothing.

When I went downstairs, I found my very irritated husband cleaning up broken glass and water. I had set a vase out yesterday of cuttings from a plant I wanted to root and re-pot. "Oh, something new!" said the evil kitties. "Cool, let's knock it over!" And so they did, in the middle of the night when no one was looking because that's what sneaky little bastards do.

Don't call the ASPCA on me, I'm not going to drown them or anything but I have to say, the desire is strong. Especially since they are only 9. However, they are both very fat so I figure that ought to shorten their life span a little.

Note to self: Buy the high fat cat food.

P.S. I just dropped beau coup bucks on some face cream guaran-damn-teed to spackle every wrinkle, "literally pushing the skin outward and flattening wrinkles...and improving the skin's matrix." Whatever the hell that is, but hey, I put it on the cats' credit card.

Limericks!

2007-03-08T10:48:00.000-04:00

Usually I'm not a joke poster, but it is March after all (beware the Ides of Mrach!) and these limericks were quite clever I thought.

The Washington Post runs a weekly contest in its Style section called the "Style Invitational."
The requirements last week were to use the two words "Lewinsky" (The Intern) and "Kaczynski" (the Unabomber) in the same limerick. The following winning entries were printed. In The Paper.

Third place:

There once was a girl named Lewinsky,
Who played on a flute like Stravinsky.
'Twas "Hail to the Chief"
On this flute made of beef
That stole the front page from Kaczynski.

Second place:

Said Clinton to young Ms. Lewinsky,
"We don't want to leave clues like Kaczynski.
Since you made such a mess,
Use the hem of your dress;
And please wipe that stuff off your chinsky."

And the winning entry:

Lewinsky and Clinton have shown
What Kaczynski must surely have known:
That an intern is better
Than a bomb in a letter
When deciding how best to be blown

Happily Never After

2007-03-03T09:32:00.000-04:00

Ah love, sweet love. Until it's not. Then it's nasty, hateful, "how could I have ever loved such as &^%$ing loser" love. And that's when it gets downright entertaining for us onlooker types. So, I bring you the latest in "infotainment." (Thanks to friend Ps for coining this delightful word!)

I am thrilled to inform you that this drama happened right here in my little 'ol town just this week! See, once upon a time a boy and girl met and fell in love. All was good, all was hot and steamy. Boy liked the steamy stuff so much that he secretly videotaped he and his lady love doing the McNasty. No harm, no foul, she would never know.

Until the time when the boy and girl broke up and all was not good. Boy was pissed; he plotted, he schemed. (And for unknown reasons waited a year to put his nefarious plan into action. All the better to surprise girl perhaps?)

One gloriously blue-skyed cloudless Spring day, hapless people everywhere exited various retail establishments in Redneckville and found presents on their cars. "Hey, a free DVD! Someone must really like, hey, wait a minute...why is someone giving me a porn video? Gosh, this looks homemade but if she's giving it away I might be interested. And what's this? Oh, here's her name, phone number, and address right on the DVD. How convenient!"

So when girl started getting all sorts of lewd phone calls, and two especially enterprising young studs showed up at her door ready for action, she didn't know what to think. Until police investigators showed up at her door with a DVD for her to view. And while it was very, ahem, awkward to view said DVD in the presence of others, she gamely watched and verified it was she, although certainly it was taped without her permission.

Now boy sits alone in a cold jail cell, charged with 3 misdemeanors and a felony for knowingly producing an "obscene exhibition."

The moral of the story: Find a less dramatic--and legal--method of letting your ex know you hate her guts.

The End.

Plethora

2007-02-28T13:59:00.000-04:00

I seem to have recently read a plethora (LOVE that word) of bizarre stories that I wanted to share with my dear loved ones. That would be you.

First, I bow down to the genius--and the cojones because they have to be huge--of the guy in Switzerland who actually managed to hoodwink one of the country's biggest media companies into publishing a two-page ad he created featuring himself. And it gets better: In the ad, he's posing semi-nude with a bottle a Gucci perfume. He claimed to represent Gucci, and that the media company should send the $49,100 bill for the ad to them--and they fell for it! Mwahahahaha, asshats! And hey, I'm going to check into moving to Switzerland, which appears to be the only country left on Earth where you can get things without having to first put up the dough. Or, if you're canny enough, for free.

I will not, on the other hand, be moving to Romania any time soon. Apparently, if you are a child molester there's no place like Romania. See, even if you get caught and go to prison, you can get out years earlier than you should by simply writing a book lauding vampires. I'm not shitting you, people. The government actually said they consider this pedophile's book, The Life and Times of Vlad Dracul to be community service. I can't even, GAH, I wish I had the words for that load of crapola. I hope a bunch of kids service the community by driving some stakes through his heart and smearing his body with garlic.

Worried the little ankle biters are spending too much time playing video games? HA, not to fear, they'll just grow up and be world-class surgeons, earning beau coup bucks with which to support you in your decrepitness. New research (again with the money wasted on researching worthless crap. No wonder there isn't yet a cure for cancer!) found that surgeons with the highest scores on "Super Monkey Ball 2," "Star Wars Racer Revenge," and "Silent Scope" performed best on tests of suturing and laparoscopic surgery.

Um, anyone else wondering why these surgeons were playing video games (in the name of research, no less!) instead of, I don't know, saving lives. But apparently, it's important for the public to know that surgeons who had played video games at least three hours a week sometime in their past worked 27% faster and made 37% fewer errors on surgical tasks, compared to those who had never picked up a game controller. Huh, I guess that is good to know. Before my cousin Rocco goes in for a triple bypass I'll be sure to interrogate the surgeon on his video-game playing scores.

Yes, I really do have a cousin Rocco. Got a problem with that?

The Hypocrisy of the NRA

2007-02-27T09:46:00.000-04:00

Have you ever heard of Jim Zumbo? I hadn't before now. He was apparently THE biggest name in hunting--an outdoorsman extraordinaire that had a top-rated TV show on the Outdoor Channel and wrote for Outdoor Life magazine.

It's all gone now--the career, TV show, writing contracts--because he had the nerve to piss off the NRA by speaking out against assault-style firearms. He dared to say, "...I'm a traditionalist,...I see no place for these weapons among our hunting fraternity. As hunters, we don't need to be lumped into the group of people who terrorize the world with them. I'll go so far as to call them 'terrorist' rifles."

Well, boom, career over. You would have thought he had said baseball, apple pie, and Chevrolets were un-American. It's unbelievable to me how much power the NRA wields in our society. It actually scares me and I'm absolutely disgusted by it.

I also find it incredibly hypocritical that the NRA blasted Zumbo (and others) for daring to suggest assault weapons aren't necessary; citing the Founding Fathers granting Americans the right to bear arms in the Constitution. Yet, that same Constitution grants us the right of free speech. But to the NRA, it's only OK to exercise those freedoms with which it agrees with.

I have yet to hear a logical, coherent reason why the average citizen, hunter or no, needs to have an assault-style weapon.

I also have to say I don't feel very sorry for this Zumbo guy. After realizing he had angered the great and powerful Oz, as well as TENS of THOUSANDS of assault rifle owners, he quickly and publicly apoligized. Instead of sticking to his guns (sorry), he folded like a guy with a bad poker hand.

And the NRA had the nerve to actually publicly warn people, including Congress, to pay attention to Zumbo's downfall because it WOULD happen to them if they cross the NRA. The NRA says their millions of members would "resist with an immense singular political will any attempts to create a new ban on semi-automatic firearms."

Can you believe that crap?

How Clear is Your Conscience

2007-02-24T13:15:00.000-04:00

In my spare time I sit around thinking about what would be the most horrible way to die. What--you never have morbid thoughts? Sure, and I bet you don't poop either.

I had thought drowning and being burned alive would probably be the worst ways to go, then I read a sinkhole opened up in Guatemala yesterday and swallowed some people. That sounds pretty horrible.

One minute you're standing there talking to pal, maybe making a banal comment about the weather, and then the next minute you're just gone. Vanished. How would you die? Suffocation or maybe asphixiation from all the dirt?

Did you see the Oscar special Thursday night where Nicole Kidman interviewed Russell Crowe? She asked him if he could know when he was going to die, would he want to. He said no, she said that yes, she would.

She said she would want to know because then she could make sure she had a clear conscience. She mentioned a prior close scare she had in a helicopter where she thought she was going to die. She actually said she wasn't that upset or worried and felt it was because her conscience was clear.

I find that pretty interesting. Because you know that some people would want to know when they were going to die in order to know how long they could go out and do bad things. For example, maybe some guy is going to kill his cheating wife on Wednesday, knowing that he'll die on Thursday and never have to answer for it. Of course, I would really hope karma might show up in that situation and somehow avert his death so he'd have to answer for murder both on Earth and in the afterlife.

I would not want to know when I was going to die. I hope I am already letting the people in my life know how I feel about them. I also think the anxiety of waiting would probably kill me before the actual event.

So, any thoughts on what would be the worst way to die? Would you want to know when you were going to die if you could?

I Promise To Wait...Until I Feel Like Changing My Mind and Doing It

2007-02-23T17:01:00.000-04:00

So, read a seriously disturbing article in Oprah. I know, I know, I hate her (and Disney) for trying to take over the world yet I read her rag, sue me.

The article wasn't meant to be disturbing, but I found it so. Apparently, there is a new trend to throw young teenage girls huge, formal bashes--quite like weddings with the white dress and rings--for pledging that they will abstain from sex until they are married. They're called "purity balls."

Hmm, let me get this straight. I'm 15, and you're telling me you'll throw me a great big party with all my friends, I get to wear a pretty white dress and receive a sparkly ring from my daddy, and all I have to do is tell you what you want to hear? Sure, no problem, then next week or next year when I met The Boy Who is The One, I'm going to screw his brains out without a second thought to some pledge or my parents.

Seriously, am I overreacting? Missing something? How the hell is that going to work? If you don't want your daughter to have sex before she's married, how about just talking to her, and frequently--like every time she eyes a boy--about the consequences. So that when her hormones are raging and her boyfriend is oh so sweetly, or not, pressuring her she'll hear your voice in her head and know exactly how to tell him to handle it himself (pun most certainly intended).

I also found it fascinating that a whopping 88% of the pledgers end up breaking their promise. Shee-it, I could have predicted that. Further, "...teens delayed having their first sexual experience by an average of 18 months." (No percentage of HOW MANY teens wait given.) So, I guess parents have to decide if an extra 18 months of their daughter's viriginity is worth shelling out thousands of dollars for a purity ball. Oh, excuse me, I mean a "I Pledge to Wait An Extra 18 Months" ball.

All He Was Missing Was the White Horse

2007-02-22T09:33:00.000-04:00

Really couldn't let this one go by without commenting--you know I'm no good at restraint and this is just too delicious!

I think people go a little coo coo this time of year in WI. I mean, football is over, they still have about 4 months of winter, and truly, there's only so much cheese you can stuff in your cakehole.

To further set this up, picture a 39-year-old man, James, who still lives with his mama.

So James and mama are watching TV in their apartment when James hears a woman screaming. To him, it sounds like she is being raped. Ever the gallant gentleman willing to rescue a damsel in distress, James kicks in the door to her apartment while brandishing a sword. Yep, a sword.

Much to his dismay, there was no buxom beauty needing rescuing. Instead, his upstairs neighbor was innocently watching some porn in his own living room. James simply heard the female lead in the movie yelling.

When asked why he didn't just call police instead of breaking down his neighbor's door, James admitted that he does not have a phone.

Huh, he's got a sword but not a phone? Gotta love you, Wisconsin, thanks for today's laugh.

Lucky Schmucky

2007-02-20T10:08:00.000-04:00

Do you believe in luck?

Or, are you more of the Oprah school, i.e., you create positive opportunites and outcomes for yourself?

I actually believe in luck. I know several people, my husband being one of them, that just always seem to be on the up side of everything. I think some of it is "right timing" and some of it is your attitude. For example, my husband is consistently an optimistic, positive, glass half full kind of guy. Yeah, it's really annoying. Especially for a confirmed pessimist like moi. He seriously just wakes up that way every morning. Kind of like a dog--always happy. And drooling, but that's a different post.

What about that airline pilot in MN who just won the lottery TWO days in a row? It's true! Lottery officials said such a sequence was so farfetched that the odds against it were "virtually incalculable." Cool, dude.

Then you have this chick in Oregon who just won her SECOND brand-new car in nine months while gambling in a casino. Talk about farfetched! Those dang casinos never let you win anything. I bet they've already banned her for life.

Hmm, maybe if I start pretending I'm lucky it will happen...OK, gotta go buy a lottery ticket. Later

Hey Big Boy

2007-02-16T10:26:00.000-04:00

Hmm, I guess New Mexico thinks only men drive drunk.

They've come up with quite the plan to keep drunkos off the road. They are putting talking urinal-deoderizer cakes in men's rooms in bars across the state. No, I am not making this up; I wish I was that witty.

When a man, uh, steps up to the urinal, the motion-sensitive plastic device says, in a woman's voice that is flirty, then stern: "Hey, big guy. Having a few drinks? Think you had one too many? Then it's time to call a cab or call a sober friend for a ride home. Remember, your future is in your hand."

OK, there are just so many things wrong with this I don't even know where to start!

Did they not consider the fact that drunk men are easily startled? What's going to happen when a guy holding his penis hears a urinal talking to him? He's going to pee all over like he did when he was 4 and some poor men's room attendant--female, I'm sure--is going to have to clean it up.
What about drunk women? Does New Mexico truly believe drunk women don't drive? Where's their campaign? How about a man who stands in the ladies restroom and any woman he thinks is too drunk he confiscates her keys and gives her a coupon for a free cab ride?
What is up with the urinal cake's last sentence--"Remember, your future is in your hand." Eeewww!! What does that mean? Stop peeing now and go home? Ask your friend to hold it for you? Whack off in the bathroom and get arrested a la George Michael?

I'd also like to mention that NM paid $21 for each talking urinal cake thingy. So far, 500 have been put in men's rooms in bars and restaurants. You do the math ('cause I hate math. That's why I make you add when you leave a comment--just so I can laugh because I'm not the one doing the math.)

I wonder how many will get stolen by immature, drunk men? They'll be driving--drunk--with it on their dashboard just so they can hear the flirty woman talking. You know it.

Calling All Nut Jobs

2007-02-15T09:40:00.000-04:00

Not sure if this has made the national news or not, but I definitely wanted to, ah, warn you to be on the alert.

In a town nearby, let's call it Asshatburg, what was thought to be a human foot was found in the town's landfill. After 36 sheriff's deputies and volunteers spent countless hours searching through tons--literally--of fresh garbage, the search was halted upon discovery that the foot was actually an ape's. So see, that's OK. There's no demented cannibal running around eating people and discarding their feet. Although, I would think toes would be considered a delicacy??

Anyway, "authorities" are now reporting the foot is "apelike." Wha??? Not human, not ape, but apelike. What does that...BIGFOOT is on the loose! Run for your lives! Actually, you could probably just walk since he's obviously missing at least one appendage so he probably won't be able to run after you too quickly. (Really, sometimes I just slay myself, snort snort.)

Yes, apparently the internet has gone crazy with Bigfoot rumors--Bigfoot On The Run in Redneck Asshatburg!

But get this--"renowned" Bigfoot specialist William Dranginis, who operates the Virginia Bigfoot Research Organization (WTH?), has offered to have DNA samples from the foot tested by experts--including Jane Goodall. Dranginis claims he has already made arrangements with Goodall in case an "unidentified creature" is ever found. "You prepare for this," he explained in a phone interview yesterday. Jane Goodall's people followed with, "Dr. Goodall is curious and keeps an open mind on the subject." Seriously??

Well, it seems as though all the hoopla may be for naught...today authorities are saying it appears as though the foot may be a skinned hind paw of a bear. Nice. Apparently there's big bucks to made in bear poaching. I'll keep ya updated as they are still sending the thing off for testing.

Again, it all comes down to the rednecks in Asshatburg--they gots to make a livin', too!

If I Had a Million Dollars

2007-02-14T16:00:00.000-04:00

Happy lurrrrrrrrrrve Day to ya. If you've no one to lurve, just fantasize. I'll start you off: George Clooney, Matthew McConaughey, Donald Trump--oh wait, sorry, wrong list. He's on my Big Pricks with Little Dicks list.

If you're feeling a little blue, a little woe-is-me, a little off your game, get over it. This poor sap in NY won $1 million in the state lottery 5 weeks after being diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Sure, dude has a year to live large on all that money you think, hey, not a bad way to go. Except for a few minor details.

He wants to get various medical treatments that will prolong his life, but the hospital is requiring major up front cash and the lottery doesn't pay the winnings in a lump sum. You know--various rules and regs prevent that. He just received his first check which is $34,000 after taxes. Not nearly enough for the $125,000 up front moolah plus $250,000 in reserves for the hospital.

Guess it doesn't matter to anyone that he'll be long dead before his lotto checks add up to that.

But wait, would you believe there are actually companies that do make "arrangements" with lottery winners to provide them with lump sums? Should this 51-year-old go that route he'd be left with a whopping $200,000 after taxes and "fees" from his original $1 mil. Oh yeah, that's a deal for ya. Still, not even close to what the hospital is requiring.

The winner, Wayne Schenk, says, "If it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all." I tend to believe him.

See, your life isn't so bad now is it? You're welcome.

Naked Again

2007-02-08T10:06:00.000-04:00

Geez, what is up with the naked obsession??

Now Christina Aguilera claims she and her husband have instituted "Naked Sundays" where they do everything naked. Hmm, I hope her staff gets the day off.

She dropped this little tantalizing tidbit during an interview with Ellen DeGeneres. "You have to keep mariage alive, spice it up," says the blonde hoochie. Really? 'Cause she's only been married for about 14 months so why aren't things still spicy? She's practically a newlywed. Oh wait, I forgot...Hollywood, celebrity, idiot...14 months is really like 7 years, right? Guess she was getting the 'ol itchy twitchy.

She also let Ellen know that Naked Sundays include naked cooking. DeGeneres warned her to be careful of grease splatters to which Christina Slutilera replied, "Well, unless you want the grease." Oooh, you're such a bad, bad girl!

Show Me the Love!

2007-02-07T15:21:00.000-04:00

Woo hoo!! I won, I won! OK, I lie, I didn't win. I never win. Poor, poor me.

BUT! I could win if you vote for me in the RFS Blog Awards. Please, please, please. OK, enough begging. I don't really do begging.

I'm in the last category, "Blogger of the Month." Whatever the hell that means?? Could just as easily be "Booger of the Month" as I don't know what the criteria were to be nominated. Whoever nominated me, a really big "you rock" to ya!

Got Fish? You Too Can Get a Husband

2007-02-06T19:22:00.000-04:00

Looking for a man? Have I got the place for you!

Hop on a plane to Orango Island in Guinea-Bissau (yeah, I've got no idea where the hell this place is either) where the women choose who they want to marry and the men cannot refuse. Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

OK, apparently this retreat d'amore is an undeveloped isle off the west coast of Africa. When a woman sets her sights on a particular guy, all she has to do is make a special fish dish (ancient recipe!) and place it in front of him. Men are powerless to say no, heh heh. Again, let me say, powerless!

One man reports, "I had no feelings for her. Then when I ate this meal, it was like lightning. I wanted only her." Damn! What is in that fish? Because this is exactly what I've been looking for for my next get rich quick scheme. I'll just sell the recipe--to women only--for this fish concoction. I'll be a gajijibillionaire like Oprah in no time.

The man cannot refuse to marry the woman because it would dishonor his family to do so. The 2,000 people of this island believe, "Love comes first into the heart of the woman. Once it's in the woman, only then can it jump into the man." So smart these people!

This unconventional thinking has worked well for this tiny island, but ill winds are a'blowing. Treacherous tides and narrow channels used to keep outsiders out, but are no longer holding back the modern world. The surrounding islands are being developed into resorts for tourists and many men from Orango are going to them to work. They return full of "new" ideas about asking women out.

"Now the world is upside down," complained a 90-year-old traditionalist male of Orango. Poor guy, he probably just wants all the younger men to suffer like he did.

Anthropologists say the island is unique; there is no other place in the world where women are given complete authority in selecting a husband. On Orango Island, "The choice of a woman is much more stable."

Unfortunately, it sounds like eventually the island will go the way of the modern world; Christian missionaries are establishing churches there. It's just a matter of time before the men there become all bossy and picky like the males of the rest of the world. But for now, a girl can dream.

Naked Sundays

2007-02-05T14:03:00.000-04:00

So, I tried to kill myself this weekend.

I went to what I thought was a 45 minute spinning class at the gym. (Gotten kind of hooked on this new craze. If not just for the sake that I don't feel nearly as guilty eating an entire bag of gummi bears if I spin them off, but it's oddly empowering.)

So I'm all clipped in, seat adjusted--complete with the extra gel padded seat cover I bring myself for my oh so delicate hiney--and the instructor was like, "OK, are you all ready for NINETY minutues of endurance cycling?!" I'm looking around frantically to see if anyone else is as freaked out as I am.

Nope, apparently they all read the schedule correctly and knew what they were in for. Then I start noticing how these people look a little different from the people that come to my 45 minute cycle class. I now notice half the class has special shoes just for cycling and many of them, unfortunately mostly the men, are wearing those crazyass Lance Armstrong bike shorts in bizarre colors that do nothing to hide unsightly, uh, bulges. Eek! And their thighs are amazingly huge and muscular. (Hang with them, we'll get to the naked part soon.)

Just as I'm trying to get my feet out of the pedal cage dohickeys and make a break for it, the instructor turns out the lights and we're off! Oh yes, didn't you know that you spin in the dark? That's actually the cool part. Complete darkness except for a few purple neon lights that make everyone's teeth look dazzlingly white! And bright!

So the music is blaring, gawd it was "Eye of the Tiger" and then the theme from Rocky, and meanwhile this Drill Sargeant of a chick is screaming, "Go! Faster, faster!" into her microphone thingy.

Well, I made it. Cycled nonstop. Did the three sets of 50 lifts where your butt is on the seat for one count and in the air for one count; repeat 50 fucking times. I don't mind telling you, I'm a little pround. And, ah, tender in some areas, but I did it.

I figure 90 minutes of getting my ass kicked beats watching naked people jiggle their way through a workout. Did you hear about that Dutch gym in the Netherlands where every Sunday is "Naked Sunday Workouts!" The owner said he's had a huge response to Naked Sundays. Really? I can see the guys being all for it, but women, too? I'm sure the guys work out even less because they're too busy checking themselves out in the mirror; telling themselves that of course their package is bigger than the guy's next to them.

But really, would you want to get on the thigh abductor/adductor machine after some naked, sweaty dude just had his junk resting on the seat?

Jumping on the Bed

2007-02-03T15:16:00.000-04:00

Remember the absolute joy of jumping up and down on a bed as a child?

Is there anyone who hasn't jumped up and down on a bed?? My brother and I were, of course, told not to engage in this incredibly thrilling activity so the first chance we got, we jumped. Giggling uncontrollably as we jumped with sheer abandon; what the hell happened? When did I lose the ability to laugh like that? Laughing so hard you gasp for breath and can't stop. Now, I rarely laugh like that. Partly for fear I might pee myself a little, but that's another story. Mainly because I'm too "adult"; I just don't have time for that silliness anymore.

Several times our jumping caused the wooden slats that hold up the box spring to slip out of place and the mattress would tilt crazily; it just made us laugh harder. Twice my brother hit his head so hard against the edge of the headboard he broke the skin and had to get stitches. He still has a little bald place on his scalp where hair will not grow. Of course, since he's lost a lot of hair on the top of his head over the past few years, he's not so concerned about that little bald spot anymore.

I'm going to try to be a child more; act silly more often, laugh harder (even if I pee myself), find joy in the most insignificant activities...maybe I'll try laughing while I dust this afternoon. Joy to you.

Wack Job

2007-02-02T22:09:00.000-04:00

Riddle me this...

Am I wacked or is the volume of popular shows such as CSI and Grey's Anatomy purposely ridiculously low, causing one to turn the volume to twice the level other shows are normally watched at?

So then, when the commercials air the volume is so freakin' high it causes one's (hypothetically speaking, of course) Cosmo to go down the wrong way due to being scared shitless by the hyperactive loser local car salesman screaming in one's ear.

One might even have to give half-hearted kudos to the ad companies since I'm sure they are behind this evil volume conundrum. In revenge, I vow to buy nothing that is ever advertised on tv. So there! That'll show 'em. No more Taco Bell Gorditas for me!

Just asking. Oh, and I know what you're thinking so let me rephrase that to, "Am I more wacked (than usual) or is the volume..."

That's Amore!

2007-02-01T09:21:00.000-04:00

You know when you fight with your husband or boyfriend and are convinced he's TOTALLY 100% wrong although he doesn't think so? He may whimper a little apology just to get you to shut up but you know he doesn't mean it.

Well, this guy in Rome meant it! He not only apologized, but did so very publicly. Really, you gotta love us Italians--fight hard, love harder.

Former Premier Silvio Berlusconi publicly apologized to his wife after she called him out in an open letter, accusing him of making flirtatious comments to other women. "Forgive me, I beg you. And take this public show of my private pride giving in to your fury as an act of love. One of many", he said. Dang! Now that's an apology. I bet their makeup sex rocked the house.

Of course, he probably went to "visit" his mistress the very next night, but that's Italian men for ya. Never let it be said they don't have enough passion to go around. One reason I was pretty sure I should probably find a non-Italian man to marry; otherwise, every piece of china in the house would have probably gotten broken over his head.

I remember when I dated an Irish guy, my Grandma said in her musical, double-negative broken English: "Why you date him? You no wanna no Irish. They like the drink."

"Grandma!" I cried, spreading my arms wide to encompass the twelve person table we just finished eating at; there was at least one wine bottle for each place setting.

She did that quintessential Italian shrug: one shoulder goes up, the mouth goes down, and if you're really good, one eyebrow also goes up. "Eh, we can handle," she says, dimissing the evidence of our own debauchery.

Boy do I miss her! She died just months before I met the man I married and I know they would have adored each other. They would have sparred beautifully; each becoming louder and more sure of their argument's "rightness" as they got tipsier and tipsier. I'm sure she's up there entertaining the masses, and maybe even a few Irish.

Booby-Flashing Baristas, Oh My!

2007-01-30T17:30:00.000-04:00

Oooo la la latte!! How about an eyeful with that cappuchino?

I guess it was just a matter of time--first Hooters, now: Cowgirls Espresso in Seattle, Moka Girls in Auburn, Bikini Espresso in Renton and my personal fav, Natte Latte in Port Orchard.

What the hell, people?! I object! I do not want my coffee served by some teenybopper with her shirt unbuttoned and boobies popping out of her demi cups. This is, apparently, some new demented trend to try to increase coffee sales. Yeah, I'm sure the men are flocking to these places; I guess they don't care if they offend the women. Some of the scantily clad booby-flashing baristas report up to $150/day in tips.

The owners of these "serve 'em sexpresso with a smile" places report few complaints. "Most guys like to see pretty girls when they get their mochas," said The Sweet Spot owner. "We just figured we'd be honest about it."

Well dang, how very refreshing. Apparently the wife of a regular "Drive thru and view!" guy isn't so understanding. She complained when the baristas started signing the coffee cups with "XOXO." Huh? These women have their boobs shoved right under her husband's nose and that's what she complains about??

Rest for the Weary

2007-01-29T20:05:00.000-04:00

Damn, dude, I so thought you were gonna make it. I'm very sad 2006 Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro had to be euthanized today.

Despite heroic measures to save his life after he pulled up lame in the Preakness, he lost the fight. Although I love animals in general, I can't say why hearing about his death has me so sad. I think because the whole world seemed to be rooting for him--sending cards and emails full of good wishes after his first surgery. We heard about his improbable recovery every step of the way--how he was making it despite the odds. And, of course, there was always the "what if" factor. How many races could this amazing horse have won if he hadn't been injured?

And, in fact, his injured leg did heal, but the strain it put on his other legs proved too much. He had serious inflammation in his other 3 hooves that would not heal. His vet said, “He was just a different horse. You could see he was upset. That was the difference. It was more than we wanted to put him through.”

The positive thing to come out of this tragedy is the $1.2 million raised since early June for the Barbaro Fund. The money will go toward needed equipment such as an operating room table, and a raft and sling for use in pool recovery after surgeries.

“Certainly, grief is the price we all pay for love,” said Barbaro's co-owner Gretchen Jackson.

RIP big guy. I hope you're up there running like crazy. Maybe you and Seabiscuit are racing right now.

The Greatest Gift

2007-01-29T09:52:00.000-04:00

I just received the greatest gift and no, it wasn't diamonds or expensive chocolates.

I received an email from Mrs. Lillian D. Champion who is the mother of Marjorie C. Salamone, the woman I wrote a 9/11 tribute to. I couldn't believe it - I was so honored she read my tribute. At the time I wrote it, I didn't want to try and contact any family members for information as I felt that might be intruding. You may remember hearing about the 2,996 tribute to the victims of 9/11 started by D. Challener Roe. He was able to get more than 2,996 volunteer bloggers to each write a tribute to a victim of 9/11.

I would like to share the lovely email her mother sent me:

I am Marjorie Champion Salamone's mother. I am 84 years old and still live in Pine Mountain, GA, where Marjorie was born and grew up. Thank you for your tribute to her. She was a very wonderful, intelligent, compassionate person and a great daughter, mother and wife. If you click on Arlington National Cemetery/Marjorie C. Salamone, you can find several articles about her. Her daughters are doing well. Ann Marie, the oldest daughter, has a doctors degree in physical therapy, married a young man who finished law school, passed the bar and is affliated with a law firm in Philadelphia where they are living and where she is practicing pediatric physical therapy. Amanda moved back to DC last year from New York and has been accepted for grad school at both NYU and George Washington University. She plans to attend GWU to get her MBA. Marjorie would be so proud of both of them and their accomplishments.

Click here to read my tribute to Marjorie C. Salamone. Never forget.

Gummy in My Tummy

2007-01-26T18:16:00.000-04:00

God Bless, people, I can't stop eating Gummy Bears. I've inhaled a bag a day for the past 3 days. Gah, I have such a Gummy hangover now.

If you're not familiar with such a hangover, I assure you it's a real phenomenon. My face sweats, I get a "sugar sore" on the inside of my cheek, and my jaws ache from all the chomping on the little gummy bodies.

Today I was at Tarjay for all sorts of crap and of course had to get another bag. Which I ate in the car driving home. Risked life and limb time and time again as I pawed through the bag searching for the perfect flavor combos: white + red = pineapply cherry bliss!

I actually went to a gym that I have no intention of joining, got a guest pass, and went to a spinning class in hopes of burning off all these gummy calories! I needed a drill sargeant of an instructor to push me into some exercising stratosphere that I can't reach on my own.

Yes, I know I need help. If you've read my blog before, this should be no surprise. At least I don't pluck feathers off live chickens or fry ants with a magnifying glass.

Planet Non Grata

2007-01-24T13:26:00.000-04:00

Poor much-maligned Pluto. How sad I am that kids growing up today may never even hear of Pluto since it's now been declared a planet non grata.

That's right; if you haven't heard, Pluto is no longer considered a planet in the solar system because it doesn't meet the International Astronomical Union's "definition" of a planet. Whatever that might be - don't worry, I'm not going to post it because really, who cares? All you need to know is it's something to do with it's size...

I guess I'm so distressed thinking about all that time back in Catholic grade school that I wasted memorizing the planets: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus (giggle, giggle), Neptune, Pluto. Cool, I can still do it although now it's all for crap since Pluto's been axed.

"Plutoed" was chosen as the 2006 Word of the Year by the American Dialect Society. To "pluto" is "to demote or devalue someone or something."

Plutoed beat out other words such as "murse" (man purse), "flog" (fake blog that promotes products), and "macaca" (forever remembered as the ethnic slur uttered by incumbent Virginia Senator George Allen to a worker on his opponent's campaign staff. Guess who wasn't re-elected?).

So, Isaiah Washington (Dr. Burke aka Dr. McChocolately Goodness on Grey's Anatomy) has been plutoed by the publicity surrounding his use of the word "faggot" in reference to gay co-star T.R. Knight (George). Got a "pluto" sentence??

Buzzard Killing Squirrel Electrifryer Turns 78

2007-01-22T10:07:00.000-04:00

So on Sunday we went to my inlaws to celebrate my father-in-law's 78th birthday. My fil actually cracks me up - he's a very intimidating ex-military guy when you first meet him. Lied about his age and went to fight in WWII when he was 15; survived the Battle of the Bulge. Hates the Red Cross to this day because they made the soldiers pay for cigarettes during the war instead of giving them out for free. He has some kind of hush hush connection to the CIA but won't talk about it. My mother-in-law said she had CIA people following her around at one point. Maybe - could have been her psycho imagination but that's another story.

My fil has been retired too long and has way too much time on his hands. He's already electrified the pole to the bird feeder to sizzle any squirrels that dare try to climb it. Now he's taken to shooting his 22-gauge shotgun at some buzzards that have taken up residence in their neighborhood. Seriously. He's shooting a gun in a suburban neighborhood surrounded by homes. Yep.

Last week my mil is in their kitchen and hears a gunshot. She goes running to the family room to find her husband lying on the floor with a shotgun. She thinks he somehow shot himself or had another heart attack. Nope, he was just lying on the floor to get a better shot at the buzzards through the door (open at the time) to the deck. Got two of them.

My husband says, "Dad, you can't shoot your gun in the neighborhood. You could kill someone." Dad says, "Naw, the bullet will travel far enough to land over in the black neighborhood. They're always shooting at each other anyway." I kid you not.

This from the man who says the best lesson he's learned all year is to not overload the muzzle of his shotgun with too much gunpowder. He blew himself off the bucket he was sitting on in the back of his pickup truck when he was deer hunting earlier this year. Apparently, he purposely put extra gunpowder in the shotgun so he could take a longer a shot since he can't walk into the woods as far anymore. The recoil projected him off his bucket and out of the bed of the truck where he landed flat on his back beside it. He was OK and yes, he got the deer he shot at.

Prunes and Diapers? Not For Me

2007-01-22T09:14:00.000-04:00

What is the deal with all of these "Oldest Living Person turns 212!" newspaper articles lately? Seriously, I've had enough. Why do I care how old the oldest living man or woman is?

Do they care? Because, I bet they really don't. They may care about their next nap, how to get their dentures to stay in their mouths, or why the hell they're still alive when their entire family is dead...I don't mean to be insensitive. Well, OK, perhaps I do, a little.

Personally, I'd rather not live to some ripe old age where I cannot take care of myself, look like a prune, have a mustache, and have to wear a diaper. If I don't have a good quality of life and no family and friends still around, well then, stick a fork in me 'cause I'm done. Over and out, I'm ready to meet my maker.

The thought of being old and alone, unable to take care of myself and stuck in some smelly nursing home scares the absolute crap out of me. Maybe because I had to see my Grandma spend the last 10 years of her life in one. It was utterly horrible and still brings me to tears. Bastards stole her wedding ring! It was just a gold band of hearts - there weren't even any diamonds in it. They would have had to pry it painfully off her swollen, arthritic fingers.

I've actually had some people say to me, "Oh you should have children so you'll have someone to take care of you when you're old." Wha? Took all my willpower not to kick them in the crotch. One - where does my child sign saying that yes, he will take care of me in my old age, and two, gosh, if that isn't the best reason to have a child I've ever heard! Asshats...I guarantee that with you for parents your children will purposely stick you in the worst nursing home in the country - if you're lucky. If not, a shed out in their back yard where maybe they throw out a piece of bread once a week.

I'd much rather go in an instant - no pain, no suffering. Perhaps a quick heart attack while eating chocolate cake and sipping a martini after just having had great sex. How do you want to go?

***P.S. Husband still has the 'ol stank eye, in fact, it's spread further into his eye - is it supposed to get worse before it gets better?? He's freaking out because the president of his corp. is in town for a big meeting today. He doesn't know if he should shake hands with him or not. I was not much help with his dilemma since I was laughing so hard - yes, it's part of my "good wife" service. I suggested an eye patch but he didn't like that option either. Men are just SO hard to please!

Pink Eye Pirate Party

2007-01-21T09:45:00.000-04:00

Well, I survived the damn party but now my eye is a little itchy...ACK! I'm totally freaking out. Sheets and towels are a'washing as we speak, uh, blog.

I tried the whole "highly contagious" spiel on my husband but he just gave me that pitying look. You know the one, it goes something like this, "If you'd just shut up, suck it up, and act like a big girl you'll get a lollipop when we get home." Fine, as long as it's a chocolate Tootsie Roll pop (do you lick or bite?). Although he did instruct me NOT to tell anyone he had the 'ol stink eye going.

One lady broke a glass at the party; it was actually the boss's secretary. So happy it wasn't me. She left literally 10 minutes later so you know she was feeling a little embarrassed.

I certainly will take Glenn's suggestion next time and have Husband and I dress as pirates with eye patches and then act surprised no one else is dressed in costume. Argh, mateys!

Unbeknownst to Husband, I did secretly tell everyone he had pink eye and by 10:00 pm everyone was gone! It was like magic. I felt like Harry Potter in drag for a brief moment.

Seriously, everyone but us and 2 other couples had left by 10:00. I thought that was a little strange but of course I was secretly thrilled. I thought I was going to be the next out the door, but SIGH (wipes sweaty brow in dramatic fashion), we stayed another hour.

Listened to a rather entertaining story from the boss about his wife's cousin Jimmy who ripped his nose off on a chain link basketball net. Required 180 stitches to sew it back on. Cool. Dang, forgot to ask if he can still smell...

Highlight of the night? It's a tie between the Amaretto margaritas and the chocolate ganache raspberry-filled cake.

An Eye for an Eye

2007-01-20T10:53:00.000-04:00

Quick - if my husband has pink eye (conjunctivitis) does that get us out of going to his boss's party tonight?

I've never had it but heard it was really contagious, so surely he can't be around a lot of people, spreading his eye gunk everywhere, right??

His left eye has been really red on one side for two days so this morning he went to the emergency room. Yep, that's what happens when you move to a new town and don't find a doctor right away - you have to go to the emergency room when there is clearly no emergency. We wanted to just go to one of those "Doc in a Box" clinic places but, gee, there was no listing in the phone book for "Doc in a Box."

So, Husband is at the pharmacy getting his antibiotic drops. When he comes home, I plan to tell him that due to his contagiousness, we can't possible attend this crappy work party of 50 people that I don't even know. If even just one person gets pink eye, everyone will know who gave it to him! Gee, I think he could probably get fired for that, I'll say...

Ah, it's so hard to be a good, supportive corporate wife when you hate people in general.

The Incredible Shrinking TV Dinner

2007-01-18T13:54:00.000-04:00

GAH! God bless, people, what the fuck happened to Lean Cuisine? Have their portions gotten smaller or what? It's not just me, right? RIGHT?!

I had some Lean Cuisine chicken and green beans for lunch yesterday, oh excuse me, Grilled Chicken Medallions in a light, delicate yet delectable foo foo sauce brilliantly paired with sauteed French green beans (read, thin green beans since God forbid the French eat regular size green beans like the rest of the free world).

I added a side salad and some cherries and I'm frickin' starving here! My "Shape Up in January in Preparation for Swimsuit Try On Season" is going awry quickly. I had been doing really well except for the half pound Godiva chocolate binge followed a day later by the 8 Lindt truffle binge. I just don't know why the scale hasn't gone down...

In my defense, I cannot be held responsible for the chocolate binging. Husband and I had lunch out and I just wanted ONE (or maybe two) pieces of Godiva chocolate. When we entered the store we found the "after-holiday" chocolate sale in full swing! How could I just get one piece when I could get a BOX for 50% off?

And the Lindt deal? Well, my size 0 friend just happened to have bowls of Lindt truffles all over her damn house and kept urging me to eat them, because, you know, she just doesn't like chocolate. I couldn't wait for her to fall asleep so I could smear chocolate all over her tiny little face.

So, I guess I need to live by this chick's motto:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body. But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, Cosmo in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

Your Public is Not Waiting

2007-01-18T09:54:00.000-04:00

Have you been watching the American Idol auditions? It's the only part of AI that my husband will watch - he's says it's the most entertaining.

Well sure, making fun of people is always entertaining. But, I have to say, I'm starting to feel like I'm in grade school, standing on the sidelines watching a bully beat up some poor kid because his hair is the wrong color.

I know, you're shocked - is this a kinder, gentler Katherine? No, of course not. I blame the parents (you know me, always gotta blame someone). They absolutely know their child cannot sing. Yet, time and time again, they accompany their glass-breaker of a child to the audition and watch his heart get cut out, marinated and eaten with a flourish.

There was this one young boy that I was so bothered by. He really thought he could sing. (Sure, they ALL say that, but you know a lot of them just want their minute on TV.) You could see how he truly felt his life was over, his world crashing down around him, as Simon none too gently told him he shouldn't sing. Ever.

And yes, of course, Simon was correct so I don't understand why a parent would set their child up for such rejection? I know you can't protect him from every harsh situation he will encounter in life, but this? This is easy! "Junior, I know you want to be on American Idol, but right now I don't think your voice is ready. How about taking some lessons before trying out?" See, it's perfect! Then, the hapless voice teacher can be the one to tell him he has no future in singing. He would believe it from an instructor vs. a parent and he won't have to deal with the public humiliation.

Anyway, back to this poor, misguided child. What bothered me so much wasn't even that he stank royally and yet his so-called loved ones still let him audition, but that when he was rejected he came out of the audition screaming that now he would never be "famous." And of course, his mummy was right there to tell him oh sure, oh yes, you will one day be famous.

That's what I have a problem with people! NO!! No, you dingleberry, you probably won't ever be famous - most people aren't. Get a real fucking goal in life. Mom - what the hell are you teaching him?? That being famous is the most important thing in the world?? Where did he come up with that idea? You are failing as a role model, Big Time, Mrs. White Trash.

Teach your boy it's not about being famous. It's about leaving your mark in a positive way, even if it only touches one other soul and no one else knows about it.

More Sex Studies!

2007-01-17T09:46:00.000-04:00

Got ya with that title didn't I? Can't you just hear Christopher Walken saying, "More cowbell!" now? (You have to watch SNL.)

So, once again some male scientist has taken it upon himself to study sex. "Oh, what a chore, what a bother, but I'll buck up and do it!" he says in a falsetto.

One of the eleventy-four magazines I subscribe to says that a study of global sexual behavior shows that the age for first-time sex hasn't changed much in the past 10 years. Most people lose their virginity between the ages of 15 and 19.

I have to say, I'm surprised it isn't more like ages 14-17. I lost mine at age 17 to my high school boyfriend who was also a virgin. It wasn't really that great. You?

The study goes on to say that there HAS been an increase in premaritial sex - mostly because people are getting married later in life. Hmm, I have to disagree there. I think there would be an increase in premarital sex now vs. 10 years ago whether people were marrying later or not. We're more promiscuous, period. I blame Britney Spears.

Night of 1,000 Anorexics

2007-01-16T14:32:00.000-04:00

OK, who watched the Golden Globes just to see the dresses?

Me, me, me! It's like when I was 8 and would watch Miss America just to see the evening gown competition. I could not have cared less about Miss Tennessee's acrobat routine where she balanced 10 Chinamen on her head while wearing 4-inch Manolos. But! Let me see her in her sparkly seafoam green chiffon number and I'd be all aflutter imagining myself in such a spectacular gown one day.

Well, one day has come and gone and this chick has yet to wear seafoam chiffon or sequins. Damn, life ain't fair. So, let's make fun of the beautiful people.

Case #1: Cameron Diaz. No doubt the chick is hot; she's got a rockin' bod any woman and quite a few trannies would throw up regularly to have. But, I gotta say, I have never liked her choices at the red carpet events. I actually think this dress is one of her better decisions although I don't love it - her stylist must have picked it.

Case #2: The Smiths. Yep, this is just one FINE couple. Who doesn't want their life? I hope they're as happy as they seem.

Case #3: Helen Mirren. I wish I had a full length picture of this woman. She has an incredible body for however old she is. And, she never takes the frumpy, elderly lady way out. No pantsuit or voluminous coverups for her. She has sex appeal in spades.

Case #4: Beyonce. I know so many people will disagree with me, but I hated this dress! I thought it made Beyonce look like a total tramp - very "leave nothing to the imagination" a la Mariah Carey, Queen of the Sluts.

Case #5: Ellen Pompeo. Love Ellen, love her on Grey's Anatomy, hate the dress. Memo to Ellen: You're not a Grecian extraterrestial. This dress has got some weird action going on in the poopshoot area.

Case #6: Jennifer Hudson. Woo hoo! She looked great; so happy she won. I loved her speech when she said "I had dreams; I just never dreamed this big."

Case #7: Teri Hatcher. Va va voom! Way to show them all how it's done, gf.

Case #8: Reese Witherspoon. Hmm, I'm thinking she missed on this one. She always does some ill-fitting vintage thing. Not sure if this is vintage, but it seems a little too "Hey, I'm a big sparkly banana!"

OK, enough! I also thought Kyra Segdwick looked fabulous as did America Ferrera, both winners. And, Salma Hayek - good Lord does that chick have a rack on her! Renee Zellwegger also looked pretty in emerald green although way too thin and suprisingly UN-made up. Almost like she forgot to put a little blush on or something. Did you watch? Anyone you want to dish about?

Put Off Reading This Until Later

2007-01-12T10:02:00.000-04:00

'Cause, you know, that's what us procrastinators do.

Apparently, there is nothing more meaningful to study like, oh say, a cure for cancer, so scientists just completed a 10 year study - that was supposed to take 5 years, ba da dah - that found not only is procrastination on the rise, it makes people poorer, fatter, and unhappier.

Shee-it, I could of told them that in 10 minutes.

In 1978, about 5% of the U.S. population thought of themselves as chronic procrastinators. Now it's 26%. A psychologist who writes self-help books on fighting procrastination said he has found it harder to wean chronic procrastinators from their habit than "...to wean alcoholics from booze."

Again, this suprises who? How many millions did this study cost? Can I have that money since I already knew this? And, what's the point? What is anybody going to do with the info? I'll tell ya, a bunch of scientists are going to sit around and discuss it and write articles about it for the next 10 years.

One of the professors involved with the study said, "That stupid game Minesweeper...probably has cost billions of dollars for the whole society." You know, I don't doubt it, but it's also probably provided a welcome stress relief for people who are working longer and harder than ever before.

It's also important to note (because I said so) that men are bigger procrastinators than women. Nah, nanny boo boo, told you!

OK, gotta go vacuum, but first I'm going to lay on the couch and read a book. Then maybe go to the mall, then buy some crap online, then...

From Doughnuts to Bedonkadonks

2007-01-10T09:30:00.000-04:00

Hey, an update on the Butt Painter - his can done got him canned from his job as an art teacher at a local high school here. The school claimed it wasn't because of his, ah, artistic style of painting. Yeah, right.

They say it was because of (use your best upper crust accent here), "...the disruption in the classroom." I can't say I buy that since he used an alias and a disguise on his website and video. I guess they mean now that he's been found out, whatevah. I predict he'll become famous, known 'round the globe as the Privates Painter: when you want some really classy art .

Disappointing news from my prior domicile Columbus, OH. In addition to be completely stopped by the Gators Monday night (wha?), now the poor inmates there are losing their doughnuts! Unbelievable - what will they take away next? The county commissioner just nixed a $55,000 annual contract to supply two correctional centers with glazed and jellied. Hmm, I hear Spam is pretty cheap...

Yesterday it was North Dakota; today it's South Dakota. The University of Sioux Falls is offering a dating course called "Finding Dates Worth Keeping." For credit! Meaning, it counts toward graduation credits. Jeebus on a stick, people, why doesn't the college just rename itself "University of Good Times."

I thought maybe we'd advanced since 1960 where the only point of women going to college was thought to be to obtain a "Mrs." degree. PUHlease! Now we're giving lazy ass college students in PJs credit for going to class to talk about their dating histories?

The instructor says, "Some people may think it's a slack course, but...our love relationships impact us more than anything else." Uh huh, I'm so interested to hear how you convince 18 year olds that they want a "relationship" versus a hookup with the hot chick with a nice bedonkadonk ass in Psych 101.

Hey, it's National Delurking Week! Can I get a heeeeeeyyyyyyyyy?

PJs and School Go Together Like Peanut Butter and Jelly

2007-01-09T09:58:00.000-04:00

This just in: Pajamas are no longer acceptable attire at school.

Because, you see, they were before. Yep, at least in North Dakota where student Dusty Holmes says he used to wear pajama bottoms to school because it helped him "stay relaxed" on the days when he had wrestling matches.

WTF?

First of all, why would you name your child, especially a male, "Dusty?" Good thing he's a wrestler; I assume he can properly defend himself from all the Tom, Dick, and Harry's wanting to kick his ass for having such an asshat name.

Second, so glad school administrators finally wised up that pajamas may not be appropriate school attire. But, they did so only after a teacher complained. What - is it so cold in North Dakota that everyone's brain has frozen and rendered them incapable of logical thought?

Third, hello?? Any parents out there doing any parenting? What parent let's their child go to school in pajamas? We'll let Dusty's parents slide of course, since they're obviously idiots, but what about the other parents that allowed it?

Peuw

2007-01-08T17:07:00.000-04:00

Just me or is anyone else concerned that buildings have been evacuated in Manhattan due to strong, gas odor of unknown origin and in Austin, TX scores of birds have mysteriously dropped dead in one night?

Yes, yes, I know those two cities are nowhere near each other...but something very strange and sinister seems afoot. Perhaps a plane flew over both cities spewing noxious fumes.

Mayor Boobberg, oh excuse me, Bloomberg, has assured NY citizens that there is nothing to worry about (should they really just take his word for it?) yet at least 7 people have gone to the hospital with "odor-related complaints." Just what exactly is an "odor-related complaint"? If the person next to me on the plane has obviously not showered in this decade, can I go to the hospital with an odor-related complaint? Assuming I have not already been asphixiated and am still alive.

The problem in Manhattan is actually very simple to solve: Donald Trump farted. He'll be calling a press conference about it at 11:00.

I'll Take One with Blue Eyes and Could You Make Him a Dwarf, too?

2007-01-07T18:10:00.000-04:00

Um 'kay, I've read a couple really disturbing stories recently about parents who purposely make their children disabled. I just cannot fathom this; however, I'm not a parent so maybe I'm missing something?

There is a couple in Chicago who have a severely mentally and physically disabled child whose growth they have stunted in order to keep her their "pillow angel." Yup, that's what they call her 'cause, you know, she's 9 years old and isn't any bigger than a pillow.

God help me for wanting to take a baseball bat to their wee small brains. They say if they allow her to grow they wouldn't be able to care for her at home. So, they had her uterus and breast tissue removed and give her large doses of hormones to stop her growth. Wow, I have got to be missing something because supposedly licensed doctors did the operation and prescribed the hormones - how could this be?

And then, another story also in Chicago...hmm, quite a disturbing trend going on there...about intentionally creating disabled babies. Some fertility clinics have actually admitted to helping couples create "made-to-order" babies; just not in the way you would think. Remember after the movie Gattaca (1997, Jude Law, Uma Thurman , Ethan Hawke) when the talk was all about creating so-called "designer" babies with the sex, eye color, hair color, etc., exactly as specified by the would-be parents? Well, what's being talked about now is just the opposite.

A woman who is a dwarf wanted a clinic to "engineer" an embryo so that the resulting baby would also be a Little Person. She actually said, "You cannot tell me that I cannot have a child who's going to look like me. It's just unbelievably presumptuous, and they're playing God."

Wha?? Put down the crack pipe, Lady. WHO are you saying is playing God? 'Cause in my book that would be you. How dare you want to sentence what would be a healthy child to a disabled life because you want it to look like you. Jeebus, go buy a doll. Talk about a selfish nincompoophead. She's now condescended to just adopt a dwarf baby.

But, the fact remains that there ARE clinics who admit to creating disabled embryos for parents who requested them. Why aren't we hearing more about this? Where is the ethical outrage?

Ack, think of the chaos if we all got to play God. Oh wait, let me rephrase, think of the chaos if everyone with enough cash designed their ideal child.

Where Do I Get One of Those Bras

2007-01-06T08:24:00.000-04:00

Remember when I mentioned, ah perhaps somewhat facetiously, that my city has just said "no" to the shooting of guns to celebrate New Year's Eve? Granted, a good 50 years too late, but whatever, Redneckmond is back on track now!

Well, today I read a story that informed me if I just wear the correct bra, I don't have to worry about those pesky bullets. See, Debbie Bingham was wearing her favorite gold-colored bra to ring in the New Year in St. Petersburg, FL. and it stopped a bullet. No lie. Would I lie to you?

See, they have a few rednecks in that area, too, that think its good 'ol plain fun to shoot guns in the air - New Year's Eve, cousin twice removed now married to your sister, got a new a truck, etc., you know, special occasions and the like.

Anyway, Debbie was minding her own business, just watching the fireworks, when she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. One of her daughter's noticed blood on her shirt and started yelling that her mom had been shot. Hmm, yes, that would be my first thought, too.

At the hospital they found that the bullet had pierced her bra strap, and said strap had prevented more serious damage. She only required 5 stitches.

"It was a very cheap bra," Debbie said. "It wasn't very expensive, and I'd love to have a couple more of those bras," she told a local TV station. Well dang, Debbie, so would I! I could make millions marketing them as "Bullet Stoppers" in areas where the country cousins hang out.

The story also noted that shooting a weapon inside the city limits is a misdemeanor with a maximum fine of $1,000 and up to one year in jail. I'm presuming that if you maim or kill someone the penalty might be slightly stiffer. But, I'm not betting it on it.

The Duping of Katherine

2007-01-05T08:38:00.000-04:00

OK People, back the hell off. I did NOT eat the rabbit on purpose!! I was TWELVE. All the adults lied and told me it was chicken. I believed them. I was TWELVE. I actually didn't find out until years later that it was rabbit and I was truly crushed. I have certainly never - knowingly - eaten it since. I also refuse to eat veal and duck but admit to no problem eating cow, pig or chicken. I also have no problem wearing leather but refuse to wear anything with real fur on it. Hey, if you're reading my blog you already know I'm cuckoo...

I have been duped!! I was all prepared last night: drink - check, snack - check, hot Joe - check (Thanks ever so much for sending him over Nils!)

And then, the big letdown - Grey's Anatomy was a repeat!! WTH? The stupid network kept promoting "The Return! Of Hot McSteamy, McDreamy, McChocolately Eye Candy!" OK, maybe they didn't say it exactly like that, but's that what I heard.

Then - two repeats! Fuckers. Asshat fuckers.

Whatever happened to the good old days? You know, where there would actually be new programming for the ENTIRE season and only repeats in the summer. You knew this; you could plan to stay out late playing Kick the Can with your buds because you didn't have to rush in to see if Mr. Farley would catch Jack Tripper with a girl and realize he wasn't really gay...

So, let's review what a difference 30 years makes:

Scenario: Jack pulls into school parking lot with rifle in gun rack.
1973 - Vice Principal comes over, takes a look at Jack's rifle, goes to his car and gets his to show Jack.
2006 - School goes into lockdown, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

Scenario: Jeffrey won't be still in class, disrupts other students.
1973 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by Principal. Sits still in class.
2006 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.

Scenario: Billy breaks a window in his father's car and his Dad gives him a whipping.
1973 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2006 - Billy's Dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. Billy's sister is told by state psychologist that she remembers being abused herself and their Dad goes to prison. Billy's mom has affair with psychologist.

Scenario: Mark gets a headache and takes some headache medicine to school.
1973 - Mark shares headache medicine with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2006 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.

Scenario: Mary turns up pregnant.
1973 - 5 High School Boys leave town. Mary does her senior year at a special school for expectant mothers.
2006 - Middle School Counselor calls Planned Parenthood, who notifies the ACLU. Mary is driven to the next state over and gets an abortion without her parent's consent or knowledge. Mary given condoms and told to be more careful next time.

Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.
1973: Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.
2006: Pedro's cause is taken up by state democratic party. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro's English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he can't speak English.

Scenario: Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from the 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.
1973 - Ants die.
2006 - BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated. Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

Scenario: Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary, hugs him to comfort him.
1973 - In a short time Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2006 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in prison.

The Killer of Warm Fuzzies

2007-01-03T15:19:00.000-04:00

So Ps has some great pictures of rabbits over at her blog, Just a mother of two. Apparently, she went on holiday at a resort that keeps 60+ rabbits and lets them frolic on the lawn each evening for everyone to play with and enjoy. They are indeed lovely.

Which reminds me of a rabbit story I'd like to share with you. I wasn't going to tell this story and ruin the "warm fuzzy" she has going on her blog, but you know me...I delight in being the Warm Fuzzy Killer.

When I was 12 I was in Italy visiting my Great Uncle and Aunt. They live on a farm and grow olives and grapes which they use to make olive oil and wine to sell. Anyway, being on a farm they have a lot of animals including rabbits. They were delightful! One day I played and played with those nice rabbits. My mom took a picture of me holding a huge brown fellow; I had a big cheesy grin on my face - look at ME! I'm holding a rabbit!

That night we had chicken for dinner. I thought it was a little strange all the chicken was dark meat, but whatever, it was delicious - so moist! You see where I'm going with this?

I Owe You

2007-01-03T11:44:00.000-04:00

I owe you a NY subway story...so sorry about that cat post. I went a little insane for about a half hour and that's what happened. See, the coffee pot exploded this morning while I was still asleep. Husband tried his best to clean the kitchen but God love him, he is not a mess cleaner upper. So when I woke up not only was there no coffee, but there was a sticky mess everywhere. Did I mention the no coffee part?? Gah

Oh, just one little quick aside about the cats (because I still haven't had my daily 6 cups of Joe. Hmm, that should probably be a lowercase "J," but let's pretend I know some hot guy named Joe and I'm going to have him.) I actually caught one of the cats - the fattest one (review: 19 lbs.) - trying to chew a hole in the dog food bag before I got up to the third floor to feed him. He was determined to eat whether or not I fed him. Yep, these cats are 100% batshit.

So get this - Sick subway passengers in New York, most of them dieters who faint from dizziness, are among the top causes of train delays, according to the Metropolitan Transportation Authority.

"Not eating for three or four days, you are going to go down," a transit emergency medical technician said. OK, so who knew there were even transit EMTs? And I just love his quote, "...you are going to go down." mwahahahaha

Apparently, an average of 395 delays each month are caused by sick customers. 395 a month?? Holy Skinny Cows, Batman, shove a milkshake in the hand of each chick stick who gets on looking a little pale and pinched! Maybe they should have Mr. Transit EMT (I wonder if his name is Joe?) go from car to car with a packages of Oreos strapped to his body.

And yet another NY subway story!! This one restored my faith in the kindness of strangers...

I am declaring today "Wesley Autrey Day" in honor of this amazing, selfless man that almost died saving another man who had a seizure and fell onto the subway tracks in the path of an oncoming train. Sounds like a Will Smith movie, eh?

Wesley is a 50-year-old father of two who, with no consideration for his own safety, immediately jumped onto the subway tracks to help 20-year-old Cameron Hollopeter who he had just seen fall.

As he tried to pull the man to safety, he looked up and saw a train heading towards them. He grabbed Cameron and managed to pull him into a shallow trough where they lay as five cars rolled overhead. The trains were so close to his head that Wesley actually had grease on his knit cap.

Cameron was taken to the hospital where it was found he had suffered a seizure, but he walked away from his fall with only bumps and bruises. Wesley refused any medical treatment saying he wasn't hurt. He then dropped off his two young daughters who he had been standing on the platform with and went on to work his night shift.

"I don't feel like I did something spectacular; I just saw someone who needed help," Wesley said. "I did what I felt was right."

All Vets are Extortionists

2007-01-03T11:20:00.000-04:00

I usually feed my two cats at 11 a.m. Husband feeds them first at 5:30 a.m. Because they are fat bastards, they are on "diets" and not allowed to just have food in their bowls at all times like most normal cats. They are lucky I still feed them after the "killing of Christmas" incident.

Anyway, way back in October when we gained an hour due to Daylight Savings time, they got all mixed up and have been mewroaring (what? It's a word) and pawing at me beginning at 10 a.m. I refuse to give into their demands, however; and make them wait until I'm good and ready to go stomp up 3 flights of stairs to give them their stupid food. Why is their food on the 3rd floor? Gee, good question. Because apparently the water table (what??) is too high in Richmond for basements (take note, Carmen!) And, I wanted the cats to have a little exercise - the ONLY exercise they get is going up there for their food. My one cat will chase a ball exactly once. Once he has the ball he puts it between his paws and lays on his back to play with it so he doesn't have to move. So strange that he weighs 19 lbs.

Interesting to note that if you are willing to pay an extra $100K you can have a basement like some of my neighbors do. Hmm, in my book we call that "extortion."

This post is not going at all like I had planned. I planned to write about the NY subways because I had some really interesting things to tell you - very unlike this completely boring fat cat post.

I promise to tell you about the subways later, so please don't cross me off your blogroll for this little indiscretion. OK? So, back to the cats. They were on this prescription diet food that had to be purchased from a vet. Something like $38 a bag. Again, the word extortion comes to mind. Anyway, I had had enough - they hadn't lost any weight on this stupid diet food in 5 years!! So, I started buying them a reduced calorie food at Petsmart and guess what?? They didn't gain any weight. The point? All vets are extortionists.

How To Celebrate New Year's if You Don't Have a Gun to Shoot

2007-01-02T20:11:00.000-04:00

Just heard on the news that government officials in Richmond, VA have said, "It is no longer acceptable to shoot guns on New Year's Eve."

Well, that's a relief. Since, you know, apparently it WAS acceptable just last year.

What the hell, Goob? I can no longer shoot m'gun to party on, um, whazzat day a'gin? Haw, I'll just shoot 'er off the next day.

See, this is what happens when you live in Redneckville where gun and hunting paraphernalia commercials regularly stink up the airwaves.

Hmm, whatever will these former New Year's Eve gun shooting off mofos do to ring in the New Year now?? I shudder to think...your guess??

The Prostitute Pledge

2007-01-02T13:15:00.000-04:00

Woo hoo!! 2006 is OVAH, bring on 2007. So glad to have the holiday season over, back on those treadmills, people, put that chocolate bar down! ack, you first.

We here at In a big way would like to officially welcome you to the 2007 edition of our blog. We promise even MORE rants, ridiculous news items, and bad kitty stories! (OK, it's really just me here, but I thought "we" sounded more officious and self-important.)

To kick things off, I would like to present "The Prostitute Pledge" for your review.

You may have heard that certain Asian countries are big fans of hiring prostitutes as rewards for the long-suffering, hard-working businessman. South Korea is proud to be no exception. However, they want you to know that they have launched a campaign offering cash to men if they promise NOT to buy sex from prostitues after office parties. Hmm, how do you like them apples?

In fact, the government will pay up to $5,000 to each company whose businessmen sign a pledge saying they will abstain. Are you flippin' kidding me?? Now we're going to pay the johns not to have sex? What idiot things that will actually work? My guess? The john will take his little no hanky panky bonus and buy MORE sex.

Apparently, 1,300 companies have actually had "volunteers" sign this pledge. uh huh. Sign, or we will fire you and you will have to commit suicide in disgrace! Oh, and the government agency responsible for this brilliant idea? The Gender Equality and Family Ministry. mwahahahaha, I wish I could make up stuff this ridiculous!

South Korea would like you to know that since 2004, it has stepped up its efforts to crack down on prostitution. Officials admit that the practice remains widespread, however. Wow, shocking. Truly.

Read 'em and Weep

2006-12-27T20:28:00.000-04:00

I just switched to the now non-beta blogger so if my blog blows up someone please let me know. Not that I'll be able to notify anyone at blogger which I'm sure is just a pseudonym for Asshats Incorporated, our motto is "We don't know shit, we don't care, and good luck trying to contact anyone who supposedly runs this half-assed bloghole."

Last post before Husband and I trek 9 hours to upstate NY for the New Year's Eve in a Box Extravaganza 2006."

I wish I had some witty sarcastic bon mots to leave 2006 with; but alas, I'm still pooped from "Loin Fest 2006." So instead, I'd be thrilled if you would check out some very cool posts from those much hipper than I. Please let them know you stopped by!

Buffy of Plain Simple English: "Her Name was Maroula I Think"

Kim of I wasn't always like this: "Let's All Go Brazilian"

Mr. Fabulous of Pointless Drivel: "Today...You Die"

Irish of Sharks With Frickin' Laser Beams Attached to Their Heads: "Sweet Dreams"

Bluepaintred: "Friendship is Like Peeing Your Pants"

Mir of Woulda Coulda Shoulda: "Lasagna amnesia"

Rayne of Crunchy Bits: "Beads and Shoe Spiders"

Carmen of Gone to Plaid: "Pooh Bear Speaks Out"

Libragirl: "Road Rage 3"

Ps of Just a mother of two: "Dads are always special"

Gypsy of Strange, Dark Gypsy Girl: "Sometimes the grass isn't greener at all"

Look Ma, No Hands!

2006-12-26T12:41:00.000-04:00

Glad all the Christmas hoopla is ovah!

I held "Loin Fest 2006" at my house Christmas Day for the inlaws and my husband's sister and brother-in-law. I mistakenly asked the meat dept. guy to cut a certain piece of beef for me without knowing the price; $64 later I'm serving one hell of a Christmas dinner.

Oh, it was fabulous - beef tenderloin stuffed with spinach, goat cheese, bacon and roasted red peppers with port wine sauce; wild rice pilaf with toasted almonds; fresh green beans with a lemon butter sauce, salad with homemade dressing, and Coconut Cake. Just would have preferred to serve a less expensive meal to people who regularly eat Spam.

For Christmas they gave me a trash can whose lid automatically raises when you waive your hand in front of it. Every time I walk by it, the lid flings open scaring the crap outta the cats. Kind of amusing, really.

**Special thanks to "Irish" who coined the term "Loin Fest." And although she suggested I serve it in a box, a la the now infamous Justin Timberlake "Dick in a Box" SNL skit, I did not.

Poop Week

2006-12-26T12:25:00.000-04:00

As I know you're all aware - I'm too nice. Grinch-sized heart aside, I'm quite a good gal. So when my neighbor that I've known all of 4 months asked me to watch her 2 dogs, Cujo and Poopsalot, I said, "Sure, no problemo."

What else could I have said?? She had just asked me if I was going to be in town for Christmas. I thought she was making neighborly small talk - ha, she really screwed me. When I said we would be staying home, she stuck the knife in. How could I have said no then? And, for a WHOLE WEEK.

So Cujo is a beautiful Golden Retriever who is apparently the only attack Golden Retriever known to man. HATES other dogs and is not so fond of humans in general. She's actually bit a child, although not one of theirs, so I guess that's why they keep her. They close her up in a room or the garage if their kids have friends over, though. If you have to do that, it's probably a clue she shouldn't be around kids. They have an electric fence which she's run through twice in the past couple of months in order to attack dogs walking by.

Then we have Ms. Poopsalot, the Shih Tzu. I like most dogs, really I do. Her? Not so much. Not after cleaning up piles of poop, pee, and - wait for it - diarrhea on the dining room Oriental carpet. WTH? I have let the little crapper out at least 4 times a day. She's freakin' 13 years old, how can she not know outside is for pooping and inside is so not for pooping?

And the neighbor lady? So knew I'd be doing a lot of cleaning. Why else would she oh so casually mention the location of the cleaning supplies in her house? I cannot believe anyone would ask an acquaintance to watch two problem dogs for an entire week.

I think I have such a problem with this because this is the neighbor who totally bailed on us the one time we asked her to let our dog out. We had to be at a work function of my husband's all day; we asked if they would be home at 5 pm to let Sampson out. They assured us they would. Then they decided to go sightseeing 2 1/2 hours away and didn't get home until 10 pm at which time they called my husband's cell phone and asked if we still wanted them to let Sampson out. Are you kidding me?? So, when we're going away this weekend I have to spend hundreds of dollars for a pet sitter because I sure can't trust her to take care of my animals.

Must go wash my hands for the eleventy-tenth time. Gack

Word of the Year

2006-12-22T13:28:00.000-04:00

msnbc.com has done a little "Year in review: The wacky and the tacky." They dish on tidbits such as "Trainwreck of the Year" (Anna Nicole Smith - duh), "The Reason Stars have Handlers" (Britney Spears - again, duh), and "The Word of the Year" ("firecrotch").

Whoa little doggie, back it on up! "Firecrotch?" Uh huh. In reference to a drunken monologue against Lindsay Lohan by sleazy rich kid Brandon Davis who slurringly referred to her Vajayjay as a "firecrotch" no less than 20 times to the paparazzi and for no apparent reason. Never one to look a gift ass in the mouth, those camera-clicking strumpets elevated this term to iconic status. Coining this term is perhaps the only positive contribution to society that Brandon "My Dad Gives Me Money, na na" Davis has ever made. It was so needed, apparently, as who knew that we would be forced to view the various crotches of so many commando starlets in just one year?

Personally, I would choose "asshat" as the word of the year, as in, "Mel Gibson is a narcissistic, racist, anti-semitic, vainglorious blowhard asshat of the finest kind." But, that's just me.

So, what's your word of the year?

"Santa, You Must Leave"

2006-12-21T19:34:00.000-04:00

Wow, and I though I had no Christmas spirit...

My Grinchy heart can't compare to that of Disney World who just kicked Santa out of their theme park. Apparently, a man named James Worley who bears a striking resemblance to to the real deal created a ruckus there.

His similar appearance to 'ol St. Nick didn't pass notice of the trigajillion kids at Disney World this week. They pointed; they shouted; they passed along wish lists. Mr. Worley took it in stride; it wasn't the first time he'd been mistaken for Santa Claus. Being a good guy and possessing a healthy dose of Christmas spirit, he went along with ruse and told kids, yes, he was Santa.

Well, apparently this pissed off Mickey and Minnie. They were miffed not to be the center of attention and Mr. Worley was asked to spread his Christmas cheer elsewhere. See, Disney managers said he was "confusing" the kids. Uh huh. Because, as they informed Mr. Worley, "Santa was considered a Disney character."

Wha? When did Disney buy Santa? You're telling me that Disney World now owns Santa Claus?? Ludicrous! No one owns Santa! Least of all some power-hungry conglomerate that along with Oprah is trying to take over the world.

Some things are sacred! Disney, you just back on away from Santa; he can't be bought.

Give Me an "S"

2006-12-21T16:25:00.000-04:00

But only if you also have the "pirit." I can't seem to get in the spirit this year...perhaps because we've only lived here 6 months so it doesn't seem like "home." Of course, I doubt it ever will because I know we'll be leaving in a few years. Shut up, I know I have a bad attitude. If you've read this blog before, that really shouldn't be a surprise.

Some Christmas quotes to try and grow my Grinchy heart at least one size bigger:

I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.
~ Shirley Temple

The Supreme Court has ruled that they cannot have a nativity scene in Washington, D.C. This wasn't for any religious reasons. They couldn't find three wise men and a virgin.
~Jay Leno

Oh look, yet another Christmas TV special! How touching to have the meaning of Christmas brought to us by cola, fast food, and beer.... Who'd have ever guessed that product consumption, popular entertainment, and spirituality would mix so harmoniously?
~Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes

Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.
~Clark (Chevy Chase), National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

Christmas at my house is always at least six or seven times more pleasant than anywhere else. We start drinking early. And while everyone else is seeing only one Santa Claus, we'll be seeing six or seven.
~W.C. Fields

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
~ Dr. Seuss

A Love Letter

2006-12-20T14:13:00.000-04:00

Dear Donald Trump,

You, sir, are a fuckwad asshat of the highest order. I am, in fact, making you King Fuckwad Asshat since you are so enamored of titles and women with big boobs who have them. While we all appreciate you letting poor misunderstood big-boobied Miss USA off the hook, we are a little fuzzy on why you had to hold a televised press conference to do so. Hmm, what’s that? You wanted the world to see what a kind and generous leader you are?

See, here’s what’s wrong with that, King Ding Dong of the Bad Coiffure. You are not the Moral Police of whom all must bow down to. In fact, last I checked you're pretty much a manwhore. Let’s recap your moral past, shall we? Got married to Ivana, fucked around, left her and the kids for someone younger. Got married to Marla, fucked around, left her and the kid for someone younger. Got married to Melania, had a kid and do I really need to go on because we all know what’s coming.

So my point, King Fish Lips, is that you’re really not in a position to be judging someone else’s morality now are you? Really, you ought to be ashamed. Making this poor girl go into rehab. She doesn’t have a problem! She’s from Kentucky for the love of dog! That would make anyone go a little crazy in the Big Red Apple – how could she not take a bite outta that? So what if she was seen frenching Miss Teen USA – that makes for really good publicity. I guarantee the ratings for the next Miss USA and Miss Teen pageants will go way up. In fact, you should be giving her a nice bonus.

I would, Mr. Blowhard Combover with the very small penis, appreciate it if in the future you could give me more notice of when you plan to act like a pompous asshat on television so I can be sure to Tivo it.

Good day. I said, Good day!

P.S. I'd like to go on record as completely disagreeing with Trumphat's decision to give Miss PartyGirl a second chance. This is someone who has known the rules from day one and been told very clearly that she is a role model to young girls. I feel very sorry for young women today who are bombarded by this bevy of drunk, stoned, underwearless sluts as who they are supposed to look up to.

P.P.S. Trumpalumpa Ding Dong is suing Rosie! Oh, it's too good, it's too good! I don't know if you saw The View yesterday, but Rosie totally went off on Don-Don and now he's suing her. I'm not sure what for since she basically just called him a bunch of names like "snake oil salesman." I think he went way too far by saying this, "Rosie is somebody out of control who really just doesn’t have it and she ought to be careful because I’ll send one of my friends to pick up her girlfriend and I think it would be very easy.” WTF?? Is he saying he's going to have Rosie's girlfriend Kelly bumped off, or that he's going to have someone try to seduce her?? What a total ass!

Mr. Heatmiser vs. Mr. Snowmiser

2006-12-20T10:22:00.000-04:00

OK, anyone remember that great holiday primetime cartoon, "Mr. Heatmiser." After The Grinch it was my absolute favorite but I never see it on anymore. Uh, not that I watch cartoons. I just like to keep up with them, you know, for my nephews so that I can make good conversation with them about how the Grinch and I have the same size heart and such.

"I'm Mr. Green Christmas, I'm Mr. Sun, I'm Mr. Heatblister, I'm Mr. 101...They call me Heatmiser, whatever I touch starts to melt in my clutch! I'm too much!" "He's Mr. White Christmas, he's Mr. Snow, he's Mr. Icicle, he's Mr. ten below...Friends call me Snowmiser, whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch. I'm too much! Way too much!"

Ringing any bells?? Hello out there! Why isn't this show on anymore?? It's seriously been troubling me for years. Who do you think would win in a battle to the death - Mr. Heatmiser or Mr. Snowmiser? See, I think Snowmiser. Heatmiser would keep melting him but like a bad STD Snowmiser would keep showing up again and again...

Anyway, I bring this up because a friend just gave me the annual Christmas CD put out by Bath and Body Works and guess what?? It has the song (chorus above!) "Mr. Heatmiser" on it sung by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. I so wish I was cool and could figure out how to download it to my hard drive (ok, I CAN do that) but then I don't know how to make it play for you as I'm sure that involves some whiz bang programming skills. Sorry, would have liked to give you that for Christmas because I am SUCH a giver. Give, give, give.

The CD is called "The Pefect Christmas" and it's actually two CDs. AND, every dollar of each sale goes to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. You can check it out here.

UPDATE: CLICK HERE TO GO TO YOU TUBE WHERE YOU CAN HEAR BIG BAD VOODOO DADDY SING IT! Many thanks to ArtGirl!

Stuff You Must Know

2006-12-19T13:13:00.000-04:00

Ok, the fabu Mr. Fab has tagged me with this meme and I just cannot refuse him anything. Oh wait, that came out totally wrong. What I meant to say is that I can and WILL refuse him everything except this. Yeah, much better where a sex-addicted manic-depressive psychopath with a penchant for large German women who feed him figs is concerned.

A- Available or single? I don't get it - are those my only two choices? Neither, I am not a whore!

B- Best Friend? My dog. Oh wait, that's too pathetic. Let's go with my friend Kira.

C- Cake or pie? CAKE!!!!!! And I prefer chocolate. I really don't get the point of pie - there's no icing, dude.

D- Drink of choice? Coffee or cosmos.

E- Essential item I use every day. Toliet paper.

F- Favorite color: The glisteny pinky-red of a cosmo. Oh no wait, I was distracted. Uh, merlot.

G- Gummy Bears or Gummy Worms? Gummy Bears!!! LOVE them, addicted in fact. But I have to have the REAL German kind, I think they're called "Ferflutootengluggen" or something like that. I really like the white ones, but also the green, then red, then orange. Yellow, not so much.

H- Hometown? Do I have to answer? Oh, ok...Bloomington, IL (2 1/2 hrs. south of Chicago since no one ever knows where it is.)

I- Indulgence: An 1 1/2 hour massage. Bliss.

J- January or February? February, it's closer to Spring.

K- Kids and names: I have no children but my yellow lab is Sampson and the evil Christmas-killing kitties are Hobbes and Spenser.

L- Life is incomplete without? Cosmos. Oh wait, distracted again. I'll also take margaritas. Or possibly my husband, naked, bringing me a cosmo.

M- Marriage date: October 23, 1999.

N- Number of siblings: One brother in Tampa, FL; we're 13 months apart. My mom actually wanted 4 kids until she had us so close together. It actually took me until my 30s until I realized I was a mistake. Yeah, I'm sloooow.

O- Oranges or apples? Clementine oranges - love those little suckers.

P- Phobias or fears? My husband dying; I think about this constantly. I'm sure to ask him at least once a month how much life insurance he has and maybe we should buy another mil in coverage.

Q- Favorite quote? "Nobody's bigger than a kick in the crotch." Courtesy of my father-in-law. Hope I never have to use it on him. :)

R- Reasons to smile: I married a very goofy man and have been blessed with an even goofier dog. You can't not smile around those two.

S- Season: Well, it's supposed to be winter but it was 75 degrees yesterday in Richmond! And I am not complaining one bit!! Oh wait, really gotta stop drinking in the afternoon. I think that means, my favorite season which would be autumn. Love everything dying. I mean the leaves changing colors.

T- Tag 3 or 4 people. OK, I usually don't but if they would be so inclined: Rayne, Libragirl, Gypsy, Carmen, and Irish who is supposed to be on "hiatus" which is total crap! Yes, I know that's 5, screw you.

U- Unknown fact about me: I lived in the same house that Sean Connery did in London. Unfortunately, not at the same time. He didn't even leave a martini shaker behind. *sigh*

V- Vegetable you don’t like: Beets.

W- Worst habit: Worrying about freakin' everything. Probably 0.012% of the things I worry about actually happen.

X- X-Rays: Hmm…teeth for sure. Feet (bunions, thanks Grandma!), knee (torn ACL), pelvis (don't ask).

Y- Your favorite food? Seafood, chocolate, gummi bears

Z- Zodiac sign: Leo; it fits due to my mane of hair and very fiery temper. roar.

Give Me Back That Kidney!!

2006-12-18T09:48:00.000-04:00

Two best buddies; one in New York, one in Florida. NY guy promises FL guy his kidney should he kick.

NY guy dies and his window says she wants his kidneys sent to FL guy who was on the kidney transplant list. ONE kidney is sent to FL guy which should have been enough, but it turned out to be too damaged to be transplantable. Uh oh.

Widow and FL guy ask for second kidney. NY hospital paper pushers refuse. They say NY guy is dead and therefore, as a corpse, has no value. (Wow, that's harsh!) He apparently had no right to promise his friend a kidney. So say they. Why then was it OK to give FL guy one kidney? Did the NY hospital know it was damaged and wouldn't be of any use? Because they're pretty much contradicting themselves now by saying he can't have the other one only because NY guy had no right to promise it to him. If that's true, why did they give him the first one?? Get your story straight, asshats!

The second kidney was indeed given to someone else. FL guy was moved to the top of the organ donor network list but a match was not found before he died at age 55.

Before dying, FL guy filed a federal lawsuit against the donor network claiming they misappropriated his freind's other kidney. FL guy died in 2002; the lawsuit is still pending.

I know there is a shortage of organs needed for transplanting; it's why I'm an organ donor. It's incomprehensible to me to think that if I had a friend in need I couldn't specify that he or she would get my organ. Maybe I'm a little Darwinian, but as long as someone is on the transplant list, if they have someone who is willing to give them an organ, I think it should be allowed. You?

Yes, But Can YOU Paint With Your Butt?

2006-12-15T10:20:00.000-04:00

Hee, ha, hoo - I can hardly contain myself! There is a guy named Stan Murmur who lives in my county in VA and he has recently come to national attention. In fact, he was discussed on The View this Wednesday.

Why, you ask? Oh, simple really, he paints with his butt. Yep, uh huh. See example to the left - I actually think that's pretty talented for being painted by an ass - but I do have a penchant for butterflies. He does all sorts of abstracts and flowers and I have to say, they aren't half bad.

Of course, there is a catch. I mean sure, butt-painting is interesting enough on its own, but that's not why Stan has come to national attention. Nope, it's because he's a...wait for it...high school art teacher. Oops. He was just put on paid administrative leave recently after school administrators learned of an online video in which he demonstrates his butt-painting uh, technique, shall we say.

Now, when I first read this I though, oh ick, pervert!! He should be fired, he shouldn't be allowed to be around children, etc. But after going to his website and watching the video - highly entertaining by the way - I'm not so sure.

He does make an effort to hide his identity by using the alias "Stan Murmur" which is not his real name. Also, in the video he wears a Groucho Marx style fake nose-glasses-mustache mask, covers his tattoos with duct tape, and puts a towel on his head to hide his hair. All this along with an extremely unflattering black thong. Yipes! BUT (hee) my point is he's not posting naked pictures of himself - he's never naked as he sits in paint and then goes over to a canvas and scoots around.

He's quite engaging as he explains how it all started in an art class he was taking where the students were told to paint a picture using an object and he choose his ass an object. So, you gotta give him points for creativity, no?

But, I am not a parent so I'm not sure how much it bothers parents to have their children being taught art by a butt-painting teacher. I do think it's a tad inappropriate, but on the other hand, he did try to keep his extracurricular butt activities separate and secret from his work as a teacher.

**UPDATE: 'Cause you asked!! No, there is no brush involved or ah, inserted anywhere. He uses a brush only to put paint on paper, then he sits in that paint to get it onto his butt, then goes to his canvas and "paints" with his ass.

So, YOU be the judge...Here is the link to his site (it's not porn, I promise) where he displays and sells his art. If you'd like to watch the short video, click "Video Clips." Then, please come back here and let me know what you think. Should he be fired from his job as a school teacher?? Does the school even have grounds to fire him?