Can You Guss What Ky Is Brokn?

How th fuck am I supposd to xprss myslf without it?

Wisdom From Tom and Jerry

The kids and I were watching Tom and Jerry and Rily noticed that Jerry and Spike seemed like friends.

"Have you ever heard the saying 'the enemey of my enemy is my friend'?" I asked.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Well, Spike and Jerry are friends because they both don't like Tom; they have a common cause," I explained.

"More like a comedy cause," she said.

Later, when Tom and Jerry were fighting on a golf course, Riley observed this: "Rule number one in golf: Don't eat the golf ball."

It Sucks To Be The "Before" Model

I don't know about drinking tonight, folks. Last night, I played Guitar Hero 'til about 11:30 p.m., watched 4 episodes of The Office maraton, and finally fell asleep to a History Channel show on the Dark Ages. That made it easily about 2:30 a.m. before I actually fell asleep. And what does my radio choose to wake me up with? Some song about not getting out of bed. I actually feel like I'm already drunk.

I suppose I could have turned the TV off. I probably also should have taken my sleep medication, but I had left it in the car and was too lazy to go get it. So, I'm paying for it now. Even my never-fail energy cocktail (Go Ape Energy Drink + Diet Pepsi) hasn't worked it's magic. Maybe I can paint eyeballs on my eyelids, prop myself up on my desk and fake consciousness. Too bad I don't have George's desk bed.

I'm My Mom's Joke Writer

Mom: Your Dad and I went to see Wild Hogs last night.

Me: Oh yeah? How was that?

Mom: Well, it was like a chick flick...only for guys. You know, they bond, they learn a life lesson, they have some laughs.

Me: Huh.

Mom: What would you call that? A chick flick for guys?

Me:...thinking: Should I go here? I Will...How about a Dick Flick?

Mom: THAT'S IT! I'm totally using that line when we see Bob and Pat...

*****

I love my Mom. She didn't even flinch.

After Jessica Simpson Flings The Thesaurus He Gave Her At His Head...

John Mayer can use it to find words to express how regretful he feels:

• sorry


• apologetic


• remorseful


• contrite


• repentent


• conscience-stricken


• rueful


• penitent

Or how he was a big jerk...

• fool


• idiot


• rogue


• scoundrel


• dimwit


• dope


• creep


• heel

Or perhaps he can thumb through it to find ideas for less ill-advised gifts...

• diamonds


• book of poetry


• bath bombs


• flowers


• chocolate


• mazarrati


• a love song


• a spa day


• edible panties

God Has Blessed Sanjaya Malakar OR Sanjay Malakar's Wish Has Been Granted By A Malevolent Leprechaun

Let's weigh the evidence...

1. He's famous, a household name
2. He's found a winning gimmick (see photo above)
3. He's working very hard to keep his shit together
4. People hate him
5. People love him
6. People who hate American Idol love him
7. He has become a posterboy for something, perhaps schadenfreude
8. His singing talent has abandoned him
9. It no longer makes him ill that he is still on the show
10. He has embraced his freak status and is working it
11. He may no longer have exclusive rights to his own soul (I think this is not specific to Sanjaya; it seems to happen to everyone who makes it to the finals)
12. He will be tourning the country this summer as a pop star
13. He will make tons of money
14. He's a joke, but he's also laughing
15. His popularity squeezed out Chris Sligh (This is God's blessing to us all)

Is it a result of prayer? Or is this the doing of a trickster leprechaun? What do you think?

Incidentally, He has caused over 100 different people to visit my blog daily, so I now LOVE him and have completely forgiven him for singing "Waiting on the World to Change."

Lost Without A Map: Search Terms That Stranded You Here

1. sanjaya anthem
2. prone movies
3. sanjaya must go
4. prone movie
5. daniel ratcliff
6. daniel ratcliff equus
7. had a bad day by john mayor
   carlos mencia steal
8. mencia steal
9. new wave puritan
10. peek 'n peak injuries
11. cutch return spring pontiac
12. hamish macbeth
13. janice +dickensen crotch shot photo
14. macbeth the rock opera
15. mel gibson blows gasket again
16. mel gibson mongols
17. daniel%2bratcliff%2bfrontal%2bnude%2bphoto
18. grandpa eulogy
19. 1994 pontiac bonneville sometimes wont idol
    prone movies
20. "justin timberlake concert" "march 26, 2007"
21. "she burned my * collection"
22. teacher hot
23. under and alone gibson
24. www.hotprone.com
25. your mother wears combat boots soundtrack credits
26. prone2whimsy
27. sanjaya anthem lyrics

Still no horse penis, Grant Miller.

What Does John Tesh Have Against You?

Last night, I was driving my family home after a long evening of waiting. Doc threw his back out and I had taken him to the urgent care center. We spent a better part of three hours reading several months worth of Time Magazine under the blare of a women's basketball game on TV. The kids probably had a good time, though; they were at Grandma and Pop's.

At about 10:30 p.m., we finally were able to head home. I had the radio tuned to WHBC and as we were backing out of my parents' driveway, I heard the soothing tones of John Tesh's voice. We were in time to catch Intelligence for Your Life.

"Excellent!" I said as I turned to smile at Doc. He winced back at me in pain.

As we were maneuvering our way through my parents' allotment, John Tesh began one of his life lessons for our benefit. Do you know what he said? He said that online friends were not as good as "real friends." He said that it was more important to build interpersonal relationships face-to-face. He asserted that after breaking up with someone, it is better for you to cry on a real friend's shoulder rather than to write about it to your "online friends."

First of all, let me just say that I was mightily offended by this on your behalf. I find that my "online friends" are just as valuable to me as my "real friends." Of course, I can't really cry on your shoulders, but then I have antidepressants for that, so who cares, right? Also, you all tend to be way more objective than my "real friends." You guys never soft peddle things. I know exactly where I stand with you. Besides, I never really know what I think about a situation until I write about it. (That is a paraphrased quote from someone famous...which I'm sure some of you can name without hesitation or at least find it quickly on Wikipedia). My online friends? Smart, honest, and resourceful.

And what about my "real friends" who are also my "online friends"? Should I prefer their presence physically rather than digitally? What about those real online friends who live far, far away? I am closer to some of them through our "online" relationship than I was previously. Besides I can't afford to traipse around the country in order to cry on their shoulders. John Tesh, I am not made of money!

Now I do have friends who are real and not online. I have fun with them. I can understand the benefit to socializing face-to-face with them. So, I'm hip to what JT is trying to say, here. Let's not lose our humanity to the likes of MySpace and Blogger. But then, if online communication is so bad, why does he have a blog? Why is he saying things like this:

"Welcome to my blog everybody! I will be writing in every chance I get to let you know what's going on in my life as well as on the radio show. I will be sharing with you news about concerts and some of my favorite bits of intelligence. Check back soon. Thanks for visiting."

Take heed, John Tesh, that you practice what you preach. I don't want to check out your blog and find you bitching about the way Connie folds the towels or crying about how she bought you the lavender bath bomb instead of the rose and vanilla. And don't expect any comments from me. God forbid I should have anything to do with the chipping away of your "humanity," that is if you're really human.

Leadership Quirks

I dream about the day when I will be running things. I know an awful lot about running things because my job requires me to study how to run things and to tell other people how they should run things (I love my job). I have also conducted my own, informal running things study. My study began after I had an epiphany while watching an episode of Scrubs. The Chief of Medicine realizes that the only way to unify his staff is by making them hate him for the whimsical nature of the minor punishments he randomly deals out. Brilliant! I thought to myself. It was then that I decided to cultivate my own evil quirks that I will use to make my subordinates bind together in their mild hate for me. Here they are:

• I will arrive to work fifteen minutes after everyone else begins and demand that my office be opened for me in advance and that the lights, which are incandescent not florescent, are turned on and my computer is started before my arrival. I will be the only one with incandescent lights. It will be part of my contract demands when I'm hired on/promoted.


• I will only write with a certain type of blue pen, which is very expensive and hard to find. I will also have a tendancy to lose said pens regularly and blame a random staffer for it.


• I will delegate all of my filing duties to the staffer with the most education, maybe someone who is older than I am.


• I will feign ignorance when it comes to using the copy machine and the fax machine.


• I will deny 10% of vacation day requests in a random manner

I think those five things would be enough to make a staff hate me. I would be sure to release these evil quirks evenly by making sure that no one person took the brunt of all of them. I'll spread it around. They will hate me for these behaviors, but not enough to actually leave their post. Plus, they will work like a well-oiled machine, having built so much trust with each other through shared hatred.

Hmmm...Building trust through shared hatred. It's quite a team motto, don't you think?

What are your evil leadership quirks?

Riley's Observations On Angsty Pop

We were driving around yesterday, listening to 94.1, WHBC, the local catch-all top 40 station. It's not as lame as it sounds. The play some good music and the John Tesh radio show, which I highly recommend. Anyway, they happened to be playing some whiny, angsty song by, let's say Nickelback.

About halfway through the song, Riley remarks, "I don't know what he's talking about but he sure is serious!"

"He sure is," I said.

Frickin' Poetry

Bureaucrats

I'm one. I admit it. I've got a stack of paperwork on my desk that is as high as my shoulders. But that doesn't mean I'm a surly, lax, apathetic sociopath. I'm just sayin'. Stop the hate.

“He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it”

Why I Wish I Had Laid Out The Eighty-Seven Bucks To See Justin Timberlake In Concert

I regret heartily that I didn't throw thrift to the wind and shell out the dough for a fair-to-midland seat for the recent Justin Timberlake Concert. It's not just the fact that he delivered quite a show, according to Genn6's accounting. Right now, he is at the very peak of his fame so far and I feel like I've missed being a part of a cultural phenomenon.

Granted, a Justin Timberlake concert is no Woodstock or LiveAid concert, but it is significant event in music. Here is a man who was able to shake loose the stigma associated with being part of the Mickey Mouse Club and N'Synch and really blossom into an artist with significance, significance being record sales. To me, he seems to be at the apex of his career so far. He could continue to rise in significance and become an icon, ala Bono or Madonna. He could make successful album after successful album and maybe even influence world events. He could also slide away and become a characiture of himself, ala Elvis Presley or Cher.

In this post-arena rock, microcosmic world, a girl has to really dig to find a culturally significant event that is both significant to her and in her price range. So far, in my life, I've suffered great disappointment in the culturally significant events I've attended. Among the disappointments, I would first have name Hands Across America as the greatest offender. I was fifteen going on sixteen and I was totally stoked to be apart of a nationwide and literal get-together for charity. When we arrived on Route 62 in Alliance, Ohio there were plenty of people, but not enough for us to stretch across the highway and hold hands. We were all a good 20 feet apart. What a bummer.

Since then, I have looked for smaller venues to find that magical connection with the people around me. For instance, I went with Doc to see the movie "Old School" at a theater after 9:00 p.m. on a Saturday night, which meant the audience was full of people around our age. There were no kids and no annoying people. Sitting in that theater and laughing with a group of strangers numbering in the hundreds was more of a connection to humanity than Hands Across America could ever be, in my opinion. It was a small event, to be sure, and we weren't trying to end hunger or anything, but for a couple of hours, I felt a part of something.

Now, going to see Justin Timberlake in concert at this moment would probably qualify on the drink size scale as a "Large" event (not small, medium or supersized). His concert tour probably won't change the world. But for those few hours, a couple of thousand people and I would be connected together through music that is innovative, cutting edge, sexy, and understated. The show would be visually stunning what with the light show and all the dancing. And all of my thousands of new BFF's would have seen Justin Timberlake at either his launching point into superstardom or the moment before his downfall. We would have cultural braggin rights, to be sure.

Sigh. Life is too short to pass on culturally significant events. When I'm an old woman, I want to be able to pull a box of momentos off a shelf when my grandchildren come to visit and show them some really amazing things. For now, I have momentos from buying the sixth Harry Potter book at midnight the first day it went on sale. I have concert ticket stubs from bands that have since been inducted into the Rock Hall. I also have stubs that I will never admit to having. I want to show my grandkids that I lived. I soaked up what I could, when I could. I want them to see me as someone who was connected to this world, and even if she wasn't on the stage, she was in the audience for something great.

You may say, why not just see Justin on his next tour? I could do that, I suppose, but by then he'll be either sinking or catapulting and not at this interesting crux he is currently on. He'll either be over or the tickets will be even further out of my price range. I've missed the Timberlake window. But don't worry about me; I'll get over it. Believe you me, I've got my eye on the horizon and when the timing is right, I'm going to dive into the sea of humanity and soak it up.

"Who Am I? Why Am I Here?"

Welcome to the Admiral James Stockdale Memorial Looking For Whimsy Search Terms List

• sanjaya must go
• daniel ratcliff
• josh radner
• new wave puritan
• pregret
• carlos mencia stealing bits
• daniel ratcliff nude
• greg burlingame
• prone movies
• prone stars
• picture of a teenaged beautiful girl with her mouth wide open so that her uvula and tonsils can be seen
• search prone movies
• "sony boney"

Make of them what you will...

Welcome Home, Mr. Robin!

Your arrival means:

• Birdsong returns
• Gas bills go down to a reasonable amount
• Kite season begins
• Outdoor Tiki
• Kids run around getting worn out and going to bed early ::fingers crossed::
• Flowers
• My birthday's around the corner
• Open windows
• Cook-outs
• Thunderstorms

Good to see you, old friend.

I've Been Tagged!

Amy hit me with her best shot...She told me to list seven songs I am into right now...no matter what they are. BUT...... they must be songs I am presently enjoying. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

1. SexyBack, by Justin Timberlake
2. Killing in the Name, by Rage Against the Machine
3. Beast and the Harlot, Avenged Sevenfold
4. Surrender, by Cheap Trick
5. Copa Cabana, by Barry Manilow
6. Oh Very Young, Cat Stevens
7. It's a Dream, Neil Young
   

I tag:

1. Elizabeth
2. Genn6
3. Grant Miller
4. Frank Sirmarco
5. Dale
6. The Boob Lady
7. And the smart and observant PHIL!

I Feel A Poem Coming On

The Politics of Small Failure

--after Roy Bentley

We prepare good food to cook
We measure, mix, knead.
You and I work
To massage, coax, and cajole the flavor.

We make progress:
The many parts combine to something greater.
Through our small exhalations
We convince the cook-fire to rise.

We set the food to heat
And celebrate a bit.
We congratulate each other
On a job well begun and slug a beer.

We dish out tall tales
Of wonders created
In kitchens of glories past.
We laugh, reminisce, and dry our eyes on tea towels

Then we smell something,
A subtle acridity
Like the faint odor of
The rice beginning to burn.

My center of gravity drops with disappointment
As we salvage what remains
Of the rice that is not
Tainted with the taste of char

We serve the meal and smile ruefully,
Noting the flavor of our tiny failure
To not honor our inner clock
And check on the rice sooner.

But we carry on, convinced
That our good intentions to feed this army
Will carry us through
And that everyone will forget the error of our rice

But they won't.
They savor that smoke-damaged taste
And save the ruined pan
To hit us on the head with later.

Attention All Bacon Lovers

You knew it wouldn't be long unil all of the bacon buzz we've generated would influence the culture of mixology...

Presenting the Bacon Martini

"Lightly mist martini glass with vermouth, and rim the edge with bacon grease. In a cocktail shaker, mix 3oz vodka, one dash Tabasco, and one dash olive juice. Shake well and strain into cocktail glass. Skim excess bacon grease from surface of cocktail. Garnish with one slice of bacon."


Make mine a double! With a shot of maple syrup liquer on the side.

OK, So I Didn't Drink Last Night...

I fell asleep at 9:30 while watching Full House with Riley. I'll give it another go tonight.

Drinking Friday

I announced last week that Friday is my night to drink. I submit this photo as Exhibit A, proof of inebriation:


Sadly, the hat was confiscated by the Dread Pirate John...maybe, when I'm pissed tonight...I'll wear the pith helmet instead. Or maybe I'll steal the pirate hat back from Dread Pirate John, that grog-snarfing sea dog! Arrr!

iTunes Oracle

What does it say about my day when I turn on my iTunes and the first song that plays is Motzart's Dies Irae (Day of Wrath)?

Today's Load Of Crap From A Fortune Cookie

This one is dedicated to Big Orange, who will belt out a big, sardonic gaffaw when he reads this turd nugget:

Don't be discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.

I May Not End Up Where I Intend To Go, But I Always Find Myself Where I Need To Be

Search terms that landed the lost here this week:

www . hotprone .com

daniel ratcliff

darklord 10000000

mencia stealing (thanks, Echo!)

prone movies

"jamie and april"

russians hate americans site: blogspot.com (thanks, Chris!)

Sanjaya must go

new wave puritan

john mayer fathers teach daugthers lyrics

bobby knueven

daniel ratcliff nude

daniel ratcliff's new movie

Harrumph!

The APA Style Guide can kiss my grits!

For My New Blog Pals

I made up this meme ages ago. I thought some of my new cyber-pals might want to have a go at it.

DEATH IS NOT AN OPTION

1. Batman or Superman?

Batman. A dark side, dimples, rich, confident and a great car. What more could a girl want?

2. Sammy Hagar or David Lee Roth?

Sammy Hagar. David Lee Roth is a farce on two legs.

3. Freud or Jung?

Jung. I'm still not over Freud's accusation that women have penis envy. Indeed. I've seen enough America's Funniest Home Videos to be glad I'm a girl. I like Jungs ideas of a collective unconscious and the power and importance of dreams. Also, Jung? Way cuter.

4. The Stones or The Who?

Hmmm....death is not an option. Sigh. I'd take death on this one. One is as irritating as the other. As much as I hate one, I hate the other. Shit. I guess I'll say The Who, though it kills me.

5. Rita Skeeter or Bridget Jones?

Rita Skeeter: she's much more diabolical. I like diabolical in my fictional journalists.

6. Peanut Butter or Baked Beans?

Peanut butter.

7. Hawkeye or Dr. Cox?

Another difficult choice. Both are passionate, cynical, antiestablishment types. Both are healers. I'd say Hawkeye, but somewhere down deep, my cred meter tells me to go with Dr. Cox. Especially since Hawkeye would be so old now...

8. Rick Blaine or Victor Laszlo?

Captain Renault, of course. This is a trick question.

9. Cats or Dogs?

Cats. I can't abide all the slobber.

10. Bluegrass or Honkey-Tonk?

Bluegrass, the holier side of country.

11. Tatoos or Ties?

Ties. Don't ask.

12. Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin?

Buster Keaton. Charlie Chaplin gives me the creeps.

13. Word or Excel?

Excel. Being a writer, I know that sounds like a crazy choice, but Excel can do so many cool tricks; it's like magic!

14. Riker or Kirk?

Riker, most certainly. They are both space whores, but Riker at least has a moral code that doesn't include his own glorification.

15. Janice Dickensen or Paula Abdul?

Tough, tough choice. Paula Abdul.

16. Dianetics or Objectivisim?

Dianetics: I'd like to have access to those kinds of benefits enjoyed by Tom Cruise and John Travolta.

17. Dollywood or Kennywood?

Dollywood.

18. Rivers or Oceans?

Rivers.

19. Toe-tappin' or Knee-slappin'?

Knee-slappin'

20. Wallpaper or paint?

Wallpaper. It's old-fashioned and pretty. Besides, I'd rather hang wallpaper than paint. Less mess.

As Death tags us all some day, I tag all of you!

Foreign Mother Tongue

I went to an "in-service" today on special education policy. In-service is term that educators use to cover a variety of sins: meetings, training, lectures, workshops, grab-ass. This one was in a cracker barrel format, which means there were four tables and four speakers. After twenty minutes the speakers rotated to different tables. So, instead of all of us listening together to each speaker (and playing with our Treo's or whatnot), we had "intimate" conversations with people from such exciting places as the Department of Education. Don't get me wrong, I love DOE people. They are very sincere and they are always looking for suggestions. At least in our state, they are not your typical bureaucrats.

However, as much as I love these people, I must say they can sling the hash when they want to. I sat in on one twenty minute conversation on what's coming down the legal pike regarding special eduation policy and law and, I swear to you, they were speaking English. However, I only understood maybe 10% of the content of the conversation. At one point I stopped listening for understanding and just basked in what it felt like to listen to English as if it were a foriegn language. I got to hear the cadence and the tones, completely devoid of meaning. I could tell by reading his body language that the speaker was desperate to get a point across. What that point was, I have no idea; it was drowned in jargon and acronyms.

If you ever get the opportunity, I highly recommend sitting in on a meeting of special education professionals and hear your language as foreigners do. Then pretend, for a moment, you are a parent of a special needs child. I'll bet you'd be scared to death and mad as hell.

It's Nearly Springtime!

Dig the kites out of the closet, grab a bag of bread for the ducks, and head to the park! If you want to.

The Bad Lieutenant's Wife

The Bad Lieutenant's Wife

We can all thank Dale for pointing out this fun webite. Try your hand at combining movie titles. The sight belongs to an obvious genius: Writer Procrastinator and he explains the game like this:

You combine two disparate movie titles into one, as if it was a natural thing all along. Thus, "The Bad Lieutenant's Wife" was born. So, using the aforemention as an example:"The Bad Lieutenant" and "The French Lieutenant's Woman," become "The Bad Lieutenant's Wife."

I've become addicted, so I must add WP to my links. Enjoy!

Surrender Lucy

The Wind Of Change Blows Straight Into The Face Of Time

Friday night is my night to drink. I've decided this after a successful carouse two Friday's ago (or was it last week?). I laughed like crazy with my friends, I ventured to get into an argument about poverty and racism with my racist friend and stood my ground quite nicely, thank you very much. I eventually felt sorry for him and changed the subject to Tyra Banks' arm vagina. We then dragged out the Singstar game for the play station and put on quite a show.

I hit my stride while singing "Wind of Change" by the Scorpions with my pal Elizabeth. Despite the fact that the words make very little sense and some of them are in Russian (!), we did very well. I think the song has to do with the iron curtain falling or the Berlin Wall falling. I know I was falling on my knees during this song in true Fantasia style while I belted my part. I think I even grabbed my crotch at one point.

So tip your glass to Friday and find yourself an anthem to crow. Just don't touch anything by John Mayer or I will never speak to you again.

I'm A New Wave Puritan!

Thanks to Amy for the neat visual Imagini. Check out my visual DNA and see what yours looks like. If you want too...

SANJAYA MUST GO!!!

He has comitted a mortal sin in the eyes of yours truly; he sang "Waiting for the World to Change," the great and terrible slacker anthem. As I listened to this "performance," my blood ran cold; my mild distaste for this poor, wispy little person turned to icy hatred. I won't quote the lyrics in their entirity, lest you fall over dead from the overdose of holier-than-thou apathy dripping from the insidious lips of John Mayer. Steel yourself, here they come:

me and all my friends

we're all misunderstood

they say we stand for nothing and

there's no way we ever could

now we see everything that's going wrong

with the world and those who lead it

we just feel like we don't have the means

to rise above and beat it

so we keep waiting

waiting on the world to change

we keep on waiting

waiting on the world to change

First of all, I must say, John Mayer is one passive-aggressive mutherfucker and has now replaced Mel Gibson as my new whipping boy. This song gives the youth of today an excuse for fiddling while Rome burns, in my opinion. After all, scorched earth is a changed world, right? And when everything is burned to the ground, these self-righteous do-nothings can say, "Hey, you never asked me what I thought; it ain't my fault." I also have issues with John Mayer driving me to use a phrase like "the youth of today," but more on him at a later date.

Secondly, the fact that Sanjaya sang this anthem to shrugging to his teeming hordes of tween speed-dialers, makes me crazy (you can't blame his success on the Vote for the Worst people either; their pick is Sundance Head). It is an obvious ploy to appeal to the young, priviledged girls of America, who are his base and can afford the "standard text messaging rates," and whose lithe manicured fingers never tire of dialing. By coupling his wispy swarthiness with pretend depth and angst, he doubles his exoticism by making him seem both worldly and world-weary, kryptonite to his voting bloc.

When I watched him sing this, I wanted to gnash my teeth, scratch at my face and raise my fists to the gods and shriek for vengeance, Elektra style. I knew this performance would guarantee him a final twelve spot. After I counted to what I could remember of 1-10, I returned to my senses; there are still plenty of other guys who can be sacrificed in the contest before Sanjaya. As long as Blake and Chris R. are safe, I will stay my righteous anger. Instead, I profer forth this plea to the privilidged parents of preteens everywhere:

Fathers be stern with your daughters;
Daughters will vote for this tool, yeah.
Girls become fans who turn dorks into stars,
So mothers be stern with your daughters, too.

Boys you can bet,
They aren't interested in this shit.
Boys will ignore, and boys will move on,
But boys will be doomed if they don't vote

For Melinda's good, good voice.

On behalf of every fan, searching for a real winner,
You are in charge! Cut off her cell phone.
On behalf of every fan who needs real talent to win,
You are the hope, and can put an end to this cornpone.

Fathers be stern with your daughters,
Daughters will vote for this tool, yeah.
Girls become fans who turn dorks into stars,

So mothers be stern with your daughters, too.

So mothers be stern with your daughters, too.

Frank Sirmarco's Fifteen

In what is turning out to be a day full of delays, humiliations and disappointments, I am sad to note that Frank, who asks me what's on my shuffle every Wednesday, hasn't inquired. Since it's already 2:30 p.m., I am picking up the ball and running with it. Here's my party shuffle for today:

1. Nails for breakfast, tacks for snacks, Panic! At the Disco
2. Bennie and the Jets, Elton John
3. Hard Headed Woman, Cat Stevens
4. The Angels, Earl Scruggs with Melissa Etheridge
5. Turn Me On, Norah Jones
6. Rock & Roll Babylon, Love & Rockets
7. I Made It Through The Rain, Barry Manilow
8. Ba Bump, Black Eyed Peas
9. I Want It All, Depeche Mode
10. This Town..., Elvis Costello
11. Not a Day Goes By, Mandy Patinkin
12. Seven Lonely Days, Patsy Cline
13. Hear Me, Kelly Clarkson
14. No Wonder, Neil Yong
15. Happy Trails, Dale Evans & Roy Rogers.

What's on your shuffle?

I'm Not In The Mood

It took me nearly four hours to get to work today and I have nothing whimsical to report. Maybe after some tasty treats or tender vittles, I'll be back on form. Until then: Bite me.

xoxox

Mel Gibson Alert!

According to Yahoo! News, Mel is thinking of heading to Panama to film a new movie about history! Apparently, he is in negotiations to produce a film about Spanish explorer Vasco Nunez de Balboa, the first European to see the Pacific Ocean from its eastern shore. Personally, I hope the negotiations fall through. Here are my reasons:

• I am so tired of history ala Mel, I could just spit up.
  
• A movie about a guy seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time has already been done.
  
• It would interfere with the completion of other important movies he is working on right now: Under and Alone, an important story set in Southern California depicting the trials and tribulations of an ATF agent who infiltrates the notorious Mongols (!) motorcycle gang; and Sam and George, a moving tale of two old friends who reunite after one of them (Gibson) is released from prison after serving twenty years for a crime he didn't commit. Sigh.

Let's talk about the Sam and George. Do we really need to see Gibson portray this martyr? Maybe this is a vanity piece with a message. I suppose he must feel persecuted and I admit I have contributed to the persecution. But do I deserve this movie in punishment? No, I say. But I hear tell karma is a bitch and I probably deserve her slap. IMDB describes this film as "a moving tale." Pu-lease. This is just an opportunity for him to say, what me? I didn't do anything wrong! If you're offended by my work, it's you're problem! I'm not a pornographic monger of violence! You're just too sensitive. And you don't study history like I do...symbollically

Then he's taking on the "notorious Mongols" in Under and Alone, apparently based on a true story. However you and I both know how Mel treats the truth. I predict this will be just another one of his type of historical films, a whispy truth burried by blood and guts. He will figuratively pit himself against a mondern-day Ghengis Khan and sincerly try to stop the threat of all the gangs uniting under Khan and conquering and absorbing every town in their path. There will be many cheeky and inside jokes that only "historians" like him will get. Maybe after a particularly violent fight with gang members that went poorly, he'll sidle up to a bar, bruised and battered, and order a Jin Dynasty Martini, conquered not stirred.

I hope Mel Gibson has a nice time in Panama, if he decides to go there. Perhaps he'll catch yellow fever and die. Maybe he'll make a deal for producing a movie, which will, in turn, boost the local economy. Maybe he'll even make a meaningful movie about a spectacular voyage, and allow the viscera and pain to be conjured up in our imagination rather than spattered all over our faces. I'm not holding my breath for any of the above. But Hollywood is about dreams, after all. A girl can dream, can't she?

Linka Dinka Do

New links are up to Dale and Barbara. Dale is a man who fears
my Welshish magic and pretends not to love me. Barbara is a lovely lady who makes me realize that Canada really is a foriegn country.

XOXOX

Looking For Whimsy In All The Wrong Places

Since he gave me permission, I'm going to steal from the Official Site of Grant Miller or Grant Miller Media. I'm sort of confused why these identical twin blogs exist. I don't know if he will kill one or not. But I've given up trying to understand the man and just honor his greatness. One of his things is to post search terms used to find his blog and I'm going to do the same thing, as my site counter from Hitslink provides this service. I've highlighted my favorites.

• anna nicole's eulogy


• dragging paint on canvas with trowel


• equus ratcliff


• grandma farewells


• hamish macbeth dvd


• josh radner gay


• pneumonia shot arm pain days


• pranks on an uncle


• prone to bullshit


• put me into goal lyrics im ready to play today look at me


• stanton & szandora @letters to the devil


• sunroof glass explosion


• anna nicole's mothers eulogy


• bbc series supertaster


• daniel ratcliff in equus


• daniel ratcliff nude


• a psychic prediction of anna nicole smith


• ann nicole smith's stats cosmetic surgeries


• "it's almost like bein' in love" song


• "josh radner" "is gay"


• "prone to whimsy"

My New Truths

I've been reading Suze Orman's book 9 Steps to Financial Freedom at the behest of my therapist. She seems to believe, and I agree with her, that anxiety about money is the root of my problems. At first, my brain seized up at the very idea. I cannot read about accounting. My head would literally fall off, roll to the floor and down the basement steps where my cat would snack on it for a week. But then I told myself to buck up and give it a try.

So, I borrowed a copy of the book from my Mom and began reading it this weekend. And you know what? It's very engaging. In the beginning, she provides anecdotes of people who freaked out over money and then she wanted the reader, me, to think about, well, me. So, anyone who wants to talk about me with me is automatically my very best new friend.

One of the pieces of advice is to start thinking positively about money. Instead of thinking, "I will never have enough money," or "I can't keep track of my spending," or "Crystal Meth sales are down so much, I'll never be able to pay off my debt to Archibald the Meth King," one should come up with new financial "truths" and obsess on them. Write it down 25 times a day. Repeat it as a mantra when walking the dog or changing diapers.

So, I've come up with a handful and thought I'd bounce them off you all:

1. I am able to support my family and the life that we want to live.


2. I will have the money to go to Bora Bora in French Polynesia and stay on a hut on the water...or to go to Disneyworld and stay at the Polynesian.


3. I will be able to persuade Doc, by hook or by duct tape, to build a spending plan based on the past two years of expenses/income.


4. I will be able to put 200 clams a month into a savings account.


5. I will not need to use credit cards ever again.

What are your truths?

Russians: Why Don't They Read Some Guy's Blog?

Our pal Chris seems overwraught by the fact that no one from Russia has ever stopped by his site, so I'd like to help him find some topics that Russian people would find entertaining or engaging. Since I have had at least one person from Russia who may have stumbled here accidently, I believe that makes me an authority on Russian people's taste. Let's see what some of them think, shall we*?

Racism

Vadim, a 30 year old IT-Specialist, might like to discuss racism over at Some Guy's Blog. Here's a taste of what he thinks:

Flannery: "Is there a lot of racism in Russia? Do any black people live there?"


Vadim: “ No, it’s not. And racism won’t be in Russia. There are artificial attempts to spread it. Black people live, I saw.”

Perhaps there's a conspiricay theory about artifical attempts to spread racism in Russia. I bet if Chris wrote about it, Russians would read his stuff.

Americans

Maybe Russians don't visit Some Guy's Blog because they hate Americans. The South still doesn't seem to be over the Civil War, why would Russians be over the Cold War? Let's find out what Ksenya a 30 year old English teacher wants to say.

Flannery: "What do Russians think about Americans and other foreigners?"


Ksenya: “There's a big difference between Americans and other foreigners. Americans are too arrogant, too proud of themselves. They think America's great and all the rest of the world is nothing. But all the other foreigners are really good people, most of them. I'm talking about people from the West, British people, Italians, Germans. I think anybody else is really cool, really good. Americans just have a funny attitude towards the rest of the world. I don't like Americans.”

Maybe, Chris, you could tone down that "funny attitude" for the sake of Russo-American relations and that would garner you some Russian hits.

Change

Perhaps you could help to foment change in Russia. I'm sure there are a lot of things that could be improved. Just listen to Mark, a retired engineer from Vladimir.

Flannery: "If you could change one thing to make life better where you live at what would it be?"


Mark: One more oil hole. Just kidding… To be serious, I’d like to change principles of selecting people who occupy powerful and leading positions. They just take people from the middle of nowhere and raise them from dirt without any reason. Like in case with our prime-minister Fradkov. I’ve never heard about him before his arousal.

I think prime-ministerial arousal is very interesting, don't you?

In conclusion, I think Russian people should like Some Guy's Blog. I think, if Chris and the Russians put aside their preconceptions and stereotypes and dug deep, they would find they have many things in common. But don't blame yourself too much for not appealing to Russians, Chris. Russian people kind of sound like assholes to me, so no big loss.

*Interviews lifted from a here.

I Was At A Diversity Conference Today

And I missed my kids...aren't they awesome?

Future Guitar Heroines

Riley the Writer, making a birthday card for her friend

Lucy and Kitty Crashed