Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?

I can't believe I haven't blogged since October 28!

Actually, I can. Y'all know I can be a serious slacker. But I think that's kinda why you like me...I make you feel better about yourself when you're thinking you might be a little lazy.. Plus I don't judge you for watching shitty reality shows. Yeah, I'm a good friend.

Anyway, I am totally sorry for my lack of posts in recent weeks. I don't have a good excuse. Yeah...my laptop is in the shop (again!), I've had some semi-traumatic dental work, a bad stomach bug, thrown another wedding shower (Yes, again. I know you can't believe it.), had tons of roller derby events and I've been busy as hell at work since our Barbados adventure. But none of those are good enough reasons for being MIA for so long.

Rest assured...I am back now and am hard at working thinking of witty and fun subjects that are sure to enlighten and entertain you.

Stay tuned...

Today's title selection: A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall - Bob Dylan

We've got to breathe and have some fun...

Barbados was amazing!!! We were just there for four days...but it went a long way in helping us recharge and get ready for the long, cold winter. OK...we don't really have long, cold winters here in Texas. But it did help us relax a little before it's time for us to break out the jeans and long-sleeve shirts (which should happen at some point in the next month or so...).

We were surprised that, as Americans, we were in the tourist minority. Most of the people we encountered were from the U.K. Thankfully, we did bring a friend with us to help up the numbers a little:

Meet Pygmy Obama. Pygmy Obama was discussed extensively on our Telluride trip this summer. Here's the short version - Precious had a dream that Obama was coming to speak at a beach-front resort in her hometown (which, in reality, is about 10 hours from any sort of beach and has never hosted a presidential candidate). She was in charge of making the preparations for his visit, but somehow forgot to put on more than a bathing suit when he arrived. So he gets there, and he was really, really short. Like "three-apples-high*-short." She swore she would never tell Obama's secret and, after his talk, he showed his appreciation by signing her autograph book "Godspeed! Love, Pygmy Obama."

Since Precious told us about the dream, we reference Pygmy Obama often. When we see a tiny door, we know it's the secret presidential entrance...an ornate colonial doghouse is his summer home...a tiny bicycle is how he gets workouts in...you get the idea. So it was only fitting that we gave Pygmy a little respite from campaigning and brought him with us on our trip.

Here he is enjoying his first drink (blue, of course!):

And playing in the sand:

Sampling the official beer of Barbados:

And hanging out with the locals:

As you can tell, he enjoyed his trip to Barbados...almost as much as we did! And I think Precious and I helped spread some Obama love along the way. Now if we could only get the Democratic National Committee to reimburse us for our vacation...

*= Do you remember what else is "three-apples-high?" Click here if you are too young to catch that reference.

Today's title selection: Are You Gonna Go My Way - Lenny Kravitz

Edited to add: Apparently I misspoke. According to Precious' mom...their town has been visited by candidates. And I quote, "Michael Dukakis during his campaign for President and Lyndon Johnson during some campaign… However, they were both full size humans." See where Precious gets her cuteness?

Whoooh ooooh who's that guy?

I didn't really want to have back-to-back reality show blog posts. One because y'all will think all I do is sit around eating bon-bons and watching crap all day and two, because it's a little sad and pathetic (and not too far from the truth). But I caught up on the Real Housewives of Atlanta today and have been obsessed with a couple of things:

1. Apparently, Kim (the token white girl) is only 30. Seriously. I mean, she looks ok...but just seems so much older than that.
2. Who the hell is this Big Papa who is bankrolling her Newport cigarette/Escalade habit?

I've been obsessed with the Big Papa thing. There are a few theories making their way around the internets, but nothing too definitive. Considering that Kim's ex is 70...it could really be anyone. Popular theories are music producer Dallas Austin, singer/producer Polow Da Don, real estate mogul Lee Najjar, billionaire Bill Gates. Ok. Kidding about that last one.

Not that I know any of these people anyway...but I've always been a sucker for a good mystery.

Today's title selection: Who's That Guy? - the cast of Grease 2, which - in my opinion - had far better songs than Grease. However, the original was a MUCH better movie overall. Ro has spoken.

I'm diggin’ on you...you diggin' on me....we diggin' on we...

Congratulations, VH-1, for milking reality show skankage for all its worth.

As if Rock of Love and Flavor of Love weren't enough...both shows have inspired a ton of spin-offs. I Love New York (1 and 2), New York Goes to Hollywood, Charm School, Rock of Love Charm School, I Love Money, Real Chance at Love and Daisy of Love (Wow. That title is about as original as Daisy's tits.)...It's only a matter of time until they break into the cooking show genre with Camp Cookin' Rodeo Style.

And now that I think about it...we should probably call all these shows spit-offs since everybody is hooking up (and a few have even been known to actually spit on one another).

The chart at the left (click to enlarge) illustrates the hook-ups of contestants from VH-1's "Of Love" franchise (left) in comparison to sexual activity of the average American (right, bottom). OK...not really. But it might as well be.

Watching all these nasty people get it on with one another totally grosses me out. Flavor Flav is the worst. If you are watching Flavor of Love while eating (which probably isn't a good idea anyway), you'd better hope there isn't a make-out scene.

And did anyone else watch I Love Money? Is it just me, or were you totally grossed out by the house they lived in? It was disgusting and I bet it smelled like stale Newports, dirty panties and man-sweat. Blech.

Of course for some reason, the Rock of Love make-out scenes don't gross me out. Sure, they make me feel a little dirty...and maybe even a little sad for Bret, but I'll take that over Flav's Hoover-mouth any day.

I think that's why I kind of prefer the Charm School shows. Everybody is still drunk and stupid, but without all the "relationship" drama. I'm loving Rock of Love Charm School. And of course, I'm a Team Heather girl, despite her outfit in the season opener:

If you ever wondered what would happen if Dee Snyder and Fredrick's of Hollywood had a baby...now you know.

Today's title selection: Can't Stop - Babyface

Ooh what a funky lady...

Little person tranny as Sarah Palin + Dolly Parton background music =
Not just funny...but oh-my-God-funny.

Today's title selection: Dude Looks Like a Lady - Aerosmith

Bodies in the sand. A tropical drink melting in your hand...

A couple of weeks ago I was out of town for work and got a text message from Precious asking if I'd seen an e-mail she sent earlier that day. Since I am trying to avoid jumping on the BlackBerry train for as long as I can, I hadn't. And, since it takes me forever to text, I called her right away to find out what was up.

Boy am I glad I did!

Apparently when cleaning out a folder at work, Precious came across 2 American Airlines vouchers that were set to expire the next day. (Must be nice to forget about little things like free airline tickets, huh??). Since she had one day left to book something, she asked if I wanted to take a girl's trip somewhere in the Carribean or Mexico.

Uh...does the Pope wear red Prada shoes?? Oh. Hell. Yes.

SO....a week from Thursday we leave for Barbados!!! We fly into Miami Thursday, spend the night there, then head for Barbados the next morning. We found a decent all-inclusive (that was pretty cheap), so we are all set to spend four glorious days indulging in fruity drinks, hanging out on the beach and trying not to burn our white-ass selves.

Here's an interesting fact I bet you didn't know. Wearing camouflage is illegal in Barbados. Not even kidding. So, sadly, we won't be playing any games of Slamouflage...but I'm sure we can find plenty of other things to occupy our time.

Has anyone ever been there? Any recommendations?

Today's title selection: Kokomo - Beach Boys (with Uncle Jesse on drums in the one episode of Full House)

Ssss-Aaaa-Fffff-Eeee-Tttt-Yyyy. Safety Dance.

Last weekend DoodleBug had his first sleepover at Aunt Ro and Uncle SuperHusband's house! It was a huge success, despite the fact that we stuffed him with junkfood and kept him up too late (sorry, sister!). But that's what aunts and uncles are for right?

We spent the week before racking our brains to think of activities that would be fun (and appropriate) for a three-year-old, and came up pretty empty. So...we went with the obvious choice that people with no kids make - Chuck E. Cheese. Let me tell you...I now know why parents roll their eyes when the rat trap is mentioned. That place totally sucks.

When I was growing up, we had Showbiz Pizza Place and it kicked ass. I mean, the place was huge - you didn't trip over people while playing skee ball or have to wait 15 minutes for a 30 second "ride." Plus there was a show and everything (Remember the Rock-Afire Explosion??)!

Chuck E. Cheese, on the other hand, is outdated, dirty, crowded and run down. But the thing that shocked me most was what we saw in the toddler section. DoodleBug was riding the Bob the Builder tractor for the 39th time and SuperHusband pointed out something near the little slide-jungle-gym thing:

I know you can't see it really well, so here's a closer look...check out the floor underneath the school bus part at the bottom:

Yes, kids...that's an electrical socket - sans socket guards - just sitting there out in the open waiting from a kid to shove a penny or a tongue or something in it! And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Everywhere we looked there were open outlets - at kid eye-level!!!

Now I'm no expert, but even I have heard of baby-proofing and it's my understanding that keeping kids out of outlets is one of the most important things you need to do. And I would imagine that socket guards are pretty inexpensive. So what the fuck?? Nobody else seemed concerned about this. Am I just overreacting?!?

Today's title selection: Safety Dance - Men Without Hats

Flashback Friday: Gonna dress you up in my love

Only 28 more days until Halloween! Do you have your costume picked out yet?

We have a combination Halloween/Derby Recruiting Party, which gives me the perfect excuse to:

1. Wear a costume for the first time in 2 years.
2. Dress up as a "Sexy (insert...uh, anything...here)."

The whole "sexy cop" "sexy red riding hood" "sexy sheep farmer" thing has always bugged me a little bit. I've never really understood why everyone had to sex it up on Halloween (unless they were a member of Color Me Badd, of course). And until now, I'd eschewed the whole thing myself...last time I dressed up I was a Future Farmer of America, for God's sake. But this year is going to be different. And derby is my excuse.

See, a while back one of the girls introduced me to this store called Steve & Barry's. The clothing is of questionable quality, but they have lots of derby-appropriate skirts and shorts. And did I mention everything is, like, $8.88 or something?

So I bought this green skirt. I plan to pair it with fishnets (of course), white socks, black Mary Janes (or Converse if I am too lazy to find the MJs), and a white top. Add pigtails and a green sash (complete with "badges" for tequila shooting, ass kicking and beer drinking) and voila! Girl Scout Gone Bad!

The only hitch is that I have to convince SuperHusband to wear this cool Girl Scout cookie costume. But he'll do it, right?

Oh...this is supposed to be a Flashback, not a Flashforward. So do you remember those horrendous plastic costumes? I think I was Barbie once. And possibly a panda bear (the memory fades...I earned that tequila shooting badge I tell ya!). I was also a gypsy, baton twirler, baby (a couple of times), 70s chick, California Raisin and I'm sure some other things I can't remember right now.

What about you? Halloween - love it? Hate it? Costumes...past? Present?

If you need to jog your memory...check out this great site with tons of those plastic monstrosities!


Today's title selection: Dress You Up - Madonna

I saw red, my heart just spilled onto the floor

Is it just me, or is Tim Gunn looking a little...uh...ruddy (and a lot exhausted) on the last few episodes of Project Runway?

Is he tired of Kenley's total disregard for his constructive feedback? Or is he just sick of saying "Loreal Paris make up room and Tresemme hair salon" over and over?

Feel free to discuss.


Today's title selection: I Saw Red - Warrant

Her fans call her tuffy, but all her buddies called her spike...

I PASSED MY ROLLER DERBY ASSESSMENT!!!!

Now I just need a derby name! The catch is...it can't be the same as any other derby girl in the WORLD. There's an online database and everything!

That's where you come in...any ideas?? I have a few thoughts, but nothing I absolutely LOVE! If you read my blog, I know you are creative and smart and darling...so you're bound to have some good ones! If so, please share!!!

Oh...and I need this is the next day or two!

No pressure.

Today's title selection: Roller Derby Queen - Jim Croce

Flashback Friday: Wanna take her to the movies...

Are you one of those people who can watch a movie hundreds of times and never get sick of it? I'm not. A movie has to be really, really good for me to even watch it a second time. Now SuperHusband, on the other hand, is exactly the opposite. If American History X, the Deer Hunter, Braveheart, Taxi Driver or Buffalo 66 is on...even if it's on TNT with a shitload of commercials...he's watching it. (And that list is by no means inclusive...I could name about 20 more off the top of my head).

I wasn't always against re-watching movies. Growing up, I could watch the same one every day. This is totally my grandparents' - with whom I lived - fault because I didn't wear them down enough to get cable until I was in 8th or 9th grade.

Of course, I loved all the cheesy movies most girls growing up in the 80s did - any John Hughes movie, Footloose, Dirty Dancing, etc. etc. etc. But the five that my VCR wore out were by no means smash hits. They were, however, pretty awesome.

I had a thing for horror movies and April Fools Day is one of the best. Not only is the "twist" pretty great, the so-bad-they're-good special effects, that were the hallmark of 80s horror, are pretty stellar as well. And by stellar I mean obvious and cheesy. Bonus: The actress who played the main character, Buffy, was also in Valley Girl and guest starred on TJ Hooker. It doesn't get much more 80s than that, folks.

G-I-R-L-S! Oh. My. God. I freaking loved Girls Just Want to have Fun. I actually owned this one and probably watched it at least twice a week for a year or two. Of course, I also dreamt of being a Solid Gold dancer...or a Dance Party USA regular...or a contestant on Dance Fever (even though hosts Deney Terrio and Adrien Zmed were both kinda skeevy). If you've seen this, you must check out the YouTube video for Dancing in Heaven. Hearing it will totally make you smile (and remember how badly you wanted to be on DTV).

I have three words for you - Wendy O. Williams. Ok, two words and an initial. Long before I even knew who the Plasmatics were, I knew "Charlie" from Reform School Girls. Nevermind that she was, like, late 30s playing a teenager - she was a scary, bullying badass and I thought she was great. Of course, being a movie about a bunch of chicks locked up, there was the requisite nudity and girl-on-girl action, so this one was probably more popular with teenage boys than girls. I'm sure SuperHusband - at 12 - could've told you exactly when in the movie the first set of boobies appeared.

Night of the Comet was every teenage girl's dream. No, not the part where the earth passes through a comet and almost all life is extinguished. I'm talking about when the sisters go on a shopping spree in the deserted mall. Of course, they only get to do that because almost everyone else is dead. Still...all the Camp Beverly Hills clothing and Swatch accessories you could grab...what 80s teenager would've minded fighting a few Zombies for that motherload? Not this one.


As far as 80s horror movies go, Sleepaway Camp is the pièce de résistance. Remember how I said April Fools Day had a great twist (If you don't your short-term memory is even worse than mine)? Well SC has the best. Ever. Plus Angela's aunt is super-fucking-creepy. Add that in with the whole "summer camp factor" which has always fascinated me, and you have what is possibly the most entertaining movie no one has ever seen. I am the embarrassed proud owner of the entire SC series on DVD, but the first is by far the best.


Here's where we turn to the audience participation portion of today's post. Which not-so-popular movies did/do you love enough to watch again and again?


Today's title selection: She Wants More - Slaughter

Same old, same old situation...

You haven't met my friend SBC yet, but I've gotta tell ya, her initials could stand for Super Badass Chick just as easily as they do for her real (soon-to-be-married) name.

SBC and I were sorority sisters back in the day and roommates one summer break during college (although I had a boyfriend and wasn't there at all much). We got along great because we shared a love of cold beer, 80s hair bands and drinking games. Of course, now that we're "grown-ups" we don't see each other as much as we once did. But when we do, it usually involves the same trifecta of greatness that bonded us to one another in the first place....more than 11 (!SHIT!) years ago.

Of course, our tastes have evolved a little bit. Instead of whatever "ice" beer (i.e. Icehouse, Bud Ice, etc. for you young 'uns) was available on "$1 Ice Night," we're now known to drink decent light beer and maybe even an import from time to time. And we've found something to satisfy our 80s hair band needs:

Poison Cherry

You may not realize this, but Dallas is the cover band capital of the world. Seriously. And these guys are awesome. Seeing them perform is like being at a Warrant, Motley Crue, Aerosmith and Poison show (except with only their best, most sing-along-worthy songs...and with more real hair).

So it was at one of these shows that SBC introduced me to the "drinking game" that would replace Three-Man, Asshole and Up the River, Down the River. It's called Slamouflague and it is greatness.

You can click on the link above for the whole story, but it's pretty simple: You rack up points by "accidentally" bumping into people wearing camouflage and saying something like, "Oh sorry...I didn't see you there." Get it?! It may sound a little lame now, but after a few beers and a shot of Patron or two, it's seriously funny. It's even better when the slam-ee realizes what you are doing. It's guaranteed to get a smile. Almost every time.

So, it may've been 11 years since SBC and I hung out all the time, but neither of us has grown up too much. And that's a good thing.

Today's title selection: Same Ol' Situation - Motley Crue

Hallelujah, everybody say cheese. Merry Christmas from the Family

Can you believe it's only 3 months until Christmas?? Seriously. Where does the time go?

If you're like me, you promise every year to buy early AND have your gifts wrapped and ready to be placed under the tree before the last of the Thanksgiving turkey and green bean casserole is eaten. Perfect gifts that are, without a doubt, wrapped so creatively (handmade tags, perfectly executed bows, maybe even a theme!) that Martha herself would be jealous.

Now if you are really like me, you will do a little Windows shopping early, but not order anything because you want to purchase everything at once to save on shipping. Or you may see something at the mall and decide to wait because it will surely go on sale in three months, right? Next thing you know, it's December 23rd and you're paying to valet at the mall because you can't find a space to park and you almost get into a knock down drag out fight over the last roll of crappy poinsettia gift wrap at Target.

So I'm putting this out there now, so I will be accountable to all of you:

I will shop early. Wrap early. And find perfect gifts for everyone on my list.

And, as luck would have it. I came across my first purchase this morning, and it's SO CUTE I have to share it with all of you:

Is that not the cutest place mat ever?? DoodleBug isn't super into pirates, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. And this is so darn cute that I HAVE to get it for him!

They have super-cute ones for little girls, too:


Check out the selection at Two Sisters Ink*. They'll even do custom orders! Just don't wait until the last minute....I know how you are.

*In the interest of full disclosure, my friend and former boss is one of the two sisters. But I would totally buy these even if I didn't adore her. It's not like she signs my paychecks anymore.

Today's title selection: Merry Christmas from the Family - Robert Earl Keen

...And fall on my ass, faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast

On my three hour flight to San Diego last month, my ass started to hurt. Not like, "Oh, I've been in a tiny seat for too long" hurt...I'm talkin' it really hurt. All week, when I wasn't at a convention session or dinner with vendors, I was in my bed at the hotel (which was super-comfy and made every day...I felt like the Hilton sisters when they lived at the Waldorf back in the pre-sex tape days).

So, I've had this pain off and on since then and it's progressively gotten worse. It's like being stabbed in the ass anytime I sit down or stand up. It's been so bad that I've even been using one of those donut thingies at home. (I was watching a Matlock rerun and sitting on my donut the other day and I totally laughed out loud at myself. To my credit, there was no black licorice in sight, nor did Wal-Mart call and offer me a position as a greeter...)

Anyway...I have a pretty decent pain tolerance. And I can deal with it during the day just fine. But when the ass pain started fucking with my sleep last week, I decided I needed to get it checked out and see if the doctor could prescribe something to at least help me get 6 hours or so of shut eye at night.

Since my regular doctor doesn't have an x-ray machine, I decided to go to my local urgent care center (that three-hour ordeal could be a post in and of itself, but I'll save it for another day). I thought my tailbone was probably bruised from falling at derby practice. But it isn't. The damn thing is broken. Yep...I have a broken damn ass bone. Thankfully, the break (in the tee-tiny-tip-bone) pushed that bone outward, not inward (which would make bathroom time very, very painful). Still...a broken ass bone is a broken ass bone.

But the doctor was nice enough to prescribe a painkiller to help me sleep. (I'm sure those 10 pills he gave me will last at least three days.) And I don't fly again until Sept. 29. And roller derby assessment isn't until October 1. I'm sure I'll be better by then...right?!?

Today's title selection: My Name Is - Eminem

Flashback Friday: Did you see your inspiration in my latest collection...

When I was a kid, I collected a lot of crap. I'm not going to tell you about all of it right now (I have to have something to write about later), but I will say that around 1983ish - for at least 2 months or so - I was quite the novelty eraser collector.

I can still totally remember coming upon a new one at Coach House Gifts or whatever other random store I was at. I always had a limited amount of money, so I'd spend ages deciding which to buy. I'd feel them. I'd smell them. I'd decide on one, only to put it back when I came across a better one. If I only spent half as long buying clothes, I'd have a lot fewer items in my closet that still have tags on them.

I thought about the erasers today when I saw a picture of an ice cream cone. It reminded me of these:


Which led me to:
Iron Lace's Photostream, where you can view tons of erasers from the 80s.
Joe Woodworker's collection of more than 2,600 erasers from around the world.
Neptune Beach's blog about her erasers.

Yeah...I had a little time on my hands.

In comparison to these folks, my little collection was pretty pathetic. I even *gasp!* actually used them to erase things! But I had a few that are pictured on those pages and it was pretty fun to reminisce about them (remember cigarette erasers??). Check it out if you're bored.

And, yeah. I realize it's not Friday.

Today's title selection: Harajuku Girl - Gwen Stefani

No song title today.

SuperHusband's beloved grandfather passed away last Sunday night. It's been a tough week for us all and things are just starting to get back to "normal" - or as normal as can be expected after losing someone you loved very much.

"Dad" was such an amazing person - a fighter pilot in WWII, a businessman, a real estate developer, a rancher. He is responsible for creating the most amazing family I've ever known (and am lucky to now be a part of) and he will be dearly missed, not just by us, but by the many people whose lives' he touched over the years.

I'll be back to my normal darling self tomorrow, but I just wanted to let y'all know why I've been MIA.

Word up!

Word I love:
Espionage

Word I dislike:
Secretion

Word I like to say:
Ingenue

Word I dislike to hear people say:
Niche (I'm a "nitch" girl...and cringe when I hear "neesh")

and you?

Today's title selection: Word Up! - Cameo

And I'm hungry like the wolf...

So I bought this book a while back, Hungry Girl - Recipes and Survival Strategies for Guilt-Free Eating in the Real World. It got a respectable four-and-a-half stars from Amazon reviewers and I'd already tried the delish Lord of the Onion Rings which, despite the cheesy-ass name (and the fact that you use Fiber One cereal to coat the rings) were pretty darn good.

So I bought the book, knowing I'd probably try 4 recipes max. You see...SuperHusband and I are creatures of habit. We eat pretty much each the same 5 things every week:

1. Tofu corn dogs for me/baked chicken nuggets for SH, baked french fries or sweet potato fries
2. Spaghetti and low-fat Caesar salad
3. Baked chicken, rice, veggies (my least favorite)
4. Steamed artichoke for me/grilled pork chop for SH, veggies, salad
5. Frozen dinners and some fruit/veggies (this is our Wed. night dinner because I am usually at derby practice from 7:30-9:30)

We recently threw this vegetarian Taco Bake recipe into the mix, which is AMAZING. Even SH doesn't mind the tac-faux filling. But beyond a new recipe here and there...we don't branch out very often.

Oh...before we move on, now would be a good time to mention that, lest you think we are somewhat healthy all the time, weekends are usually a free-for-all that totally negate any "good eating" we've done throughout the week. Taquitos and fries at 2am after an evening of drinking....pizza delivery when we're too hung over to cook or go get anything...you get the idea.

Anyway...I ordered the book and it's not bad. I haven't actually tried anything yet, but any "diet" book that devotes a whole chapter to light cocktails is alright by me. Sure, the writing is pretty cheesy most of the time:

"The average cookies and cream shake packs in a ridiculous 900 calories and 55 grams of fat. How embarrassing!"

"Strawberries are the only fruit that have their seeds on the outside. Fancy!"

But I got past that. Well...until Hungry Girl totally crosses the line on page 207. That's where she recommends foods for a "jet-set snack pack." (In the interest of not violating any copyrights and such...I've paraphrased):

Something fruity - bring napkins!
Something crunchy - pre-popped low-fat popcorn
Something protein-packed - a single serving can of tuna

Yeah...you heard right. A single serving can of TUNA. On an AIRPLANE.

WTF?

Has this Hungry Girl never flown before? I don't know about you, but aside from a screaming kid, the last thing I want next to me on a 3 hour flight is some jackass eating TUNA FISH. I don't particularly want them spitting grape seeds into their tiny drink cups or crunching a bunch of popcorn in my ear either. But how on earth can anyone actually recommend smelly ass tuna as an appropriate snack for someone eating in a closed tube with recirculating air?

I am not going to give up on Hungry Girl yet...I just need to be sure I'm not seated next to her on my next flight.


Today's title selection: Hungry Like the Wolf - Duran Duran

Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings...

If you know anything about Texas, you know that this is reality show breeding ground down here. A few names come to mind immediately:

Kelly Clarkson (American Idol winner)

Nikki McKibbon (American Idol non-winner)

Colby Donaldson (Survivor HPOA*)

Melissa Lawton (Nashville Star winner with possibly the coolest husband ever)

Trey and Kasey (Top Chef)

Steven and Jerry (Big Brother 10)

Daniel (Loved him!) and Matthew (Shear Genius)

Etc. Etc. Etc.

There are a ton of others, but I'm not motivated to research them all right now, because that's not really the point of this post.


This post is to share with you all, the Saddest. Picture. Ever.

I don't know what disturbs me more, the fact that Nancy Belew (on the far right) is a little old to be a puppet-making Jason Castro superfan...or the fact that Wanda Dewes is feeling up said puppet...or the puppet itself with that giant body and tiny little shrunken head.

Thoughts?

*HOPA=Hot Piece of Ass (Thank to Precious, the original HPOA, for that one.)

Today's title selection: Master of Puppets - Metallica

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

This is my 100th (YES 100th!) blog post!!! Can you believe it? It seems like just yesterday I was writing this open letter to my DVR then introducing myself to all of you. And by all of you I actually mean none of you because I didn't tell anyone about this thing until I had a few posts under my belt. A lot of my friends still don't know about it...because you never know when you're going to have to bitch-slap someone blog style and I want to leave all my options open.

So this being the 100th post and all...I figured I had to do something big. Then I re-thought it and decided a celebratory bottle glass of wine would be more fun (for me) than trying to come up with something dazzling and creative. But I didn't want to leave y'all hanging...so I decided to look back on what drew readers to my blog in the first place. Yeah, I know my wit and sarcasm are what keep y'all here, but for the three of you not related to me, something had to bring you over to the dark side in the first place, right?

So I went through Google Analytics (which I totally love) and rounded up a few of the craziest (and creepiest) searches for your reading pleasure:

Boy-short-my-head (huh?)

Cotton balls be flushed? (See...I'm not the only one!)

Birthday greetings for the smooth black man (sorry, only "rough black man" greetings over here.)

Stinky cheerios (I don't even want to know how that happens...)

DJ Ashba looks like a vampire (yeah...a hot one)

Local mistress looking for slave (keep lookin'...)

Pee girl (ewww...)

Seymore Butts squirters (double ewww...)

What will happen if I leave bar of soap under my pit for 30 minutes? (uh...I hope that worked out for you...)

Little boys in speedos (ok...WTF? Can you say super-fucking creepy? I almost didn't want to share that one, but I wanted y'all to feel as dirty as I do.)

I'm not sure any of the aforementioned searches yielded what the Googlers were looking for, but maybe one of them stuck around (fess up), but probably not. Still, the handful of you guys who check in on a regular basis are amazing...and make it much easier to motivate myself to write every now and then. So THANK YOU for a fabulous few months...and here's to another 100 posts!

And y'all are buying the wine next time.

ETA: OK, I looked over at the side menu and there are only 97 posts listed! Apparently I started a couple of crappy ones I never actually posted. But I have kinda written 100 and none of y'all called me out on my mistake. Plus I already drank the wine, so we'll call it good.

Today's title selection: I still haven't found what I'm looking for - U2

Don't you know I'm still standing...

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.

I've been in lovely San Diego, CA attending a conference. Since I usually have to lug a laptop with me whenever I travel for work, I jumped at the chance to leave her at home this time. Of course, that meant not being able to obsessively check MySpace, read work e-mails (and actually work) or blog. Which wasn't really such a bad thing...at first. But then I remembered that middle-aged professionals plucked out of their comfort zones and attending a conference in a new city are just blog posts waiting to happen! I could've kicked myself for leaving the laptop at home!

But since I did...you'll just have to rely on my memory. I'd like you to meet a few of the folks I've spent the last few days with. If you've ever been to a convention, you will probably recognize them.

1. Drunken Donna: No soccer practice car pool + open bar = Drunken Donna. She's the one you only see at social events (and she's so loud you can't miss her)....never at the early morning seminars and educational programming (that starts when she's still sleeping it off).

2. Dance Machine Daniel: At the big welcome party, you'll spot Daniel bouncing up and down in front of the stage as he pumps his lighted Blackberry in the air to the sounds of the cover band's rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. By the end of the night, his oxford cloth Polo shirt might be stained, but he'll feel just like he did at the Stones' show in '78.

3. Talkative Terry: Terry has never been bored in a seminar in his life. This is probably because Terry, a self-proclaimed expert on everything, spends the entire time sharing his own stories and personal experiences. In fact, he usually spends more time talking than the actual presenter. Beware of Terry...if you're in a session with him, you will never, I repeat NEVER get out early.

4, Monitor Mary: She works with you and is attending the conference, too. Every time you run into Mary, she looks at you with a skeptical eye and asks which sessions you attended. Then she quizzes you on specifics to see if you really went. Mary is easy to spot - she ignores the "business casual" dress code and shows up daily in suit, hose and sensible heels.

5. What Not to Wear Wanda: Poor Wanda. Her pants are too short, her shirt is too tight and her hairstyle hasn't changed since 1982. In the industry I am in, there are a lot of Wandas. Seriously. Clinton and Stacy would have a field day (although they'd quickly run out of $5,000 gift cards). Note to Wandas: Just because you can button those jeans, doesn't mean you should wear 'em honey.

Needless to say, I am damn glad to be home.

Today's title selection: I'm Still Standing - Elton John

Flashback Friday: You gotta go back, back, back to school again...

Remember school picture day? What a big deal when you were a kid, right? Well...to everyone except the guy who wore the same ratty Skid Row shirt every year. You know the one.

God...I remember planning my outfits and hair weeks in advance. In fact, in third grade I even wore rollers to school and my teacher took them out right before the pictures so I'd have these long, gorgeous, black doo-doo curls. Bless you, Mrs. Rix. I know now my hair was totally heinous, but you were such a good sport and didn't laugh at me once... so much nicer than those bitches who taught pre-school.

In addition to that one, my pics over the years have featured my hair at various stages of terrible. From the long, to-my-ass straight hair parted down the middle...to the braids with feathered bangs and a fathered roach clip for good measure (sadly, I am not kidding)...to the boy-short do courtesy of my aunt (whose only hairstyling credential was owning a pair of scissors). But I think my favorite was probably my senior picture, which featured my permed,teased, sun-glitzed hair in all it's glory. Surprisingly, it all made it into the frame...most of my friends were not so fortunate.

So when I came across this amazing web site that let's you upload a pic and see what your school pics would look like at various years spanning five decades...I had to try it. Yep...that's me to the left circa 1960 (Afro-Ro is pretty kick ass, too). Check it out if you need to kill a few hours. You can thank me later.

Today's title selection: Back to School Again - from Grease

If I close my eyes forever...

In my short 33 years, I've done some pretty cool stuff - hiked the Grand Canyon...stood on the star at Texas Stadium...danced in a parade at Epcot Center. But I still have a million things I want to do in my lifetime. So...in an effort to keep track of it all, I started my official "Things to Do Before I Die" list today:

1. Take a Train Trip. The only train I've ever been on was the Heathrow Express in London and that doesn't really count. I want to go on a real train trip...with a sleeper car, dinner service and all that - just like the Orient Express (only without all that murder stuff). I'm sure in reality it's not so glamorous, but I want to see for myself.

2. Write the Great American Novel. I can never think of an idea that I like well enough to spend an insane amount of time writing about (much less one that I feel others would find compelling enough to read). But I will one day and then y'all can be like, "You know that best-selling author, Ro? The one whose book was optioned for that new movie starring Brad Pitt and Nikki Sixx? Yeah...I was totally one of her tens of blog readers back in the day."

3. Meet a parrot that talks. I've never seen one in person, and this just seems like something everyone should experience at least once in their lives, don't you think?

4. Visit the Galapagos Islands. This is definitely high on our list of vacation destinations. And we only have 3 weddings left this year, so we might actually get to start rebuilding our savings account (which has been depleted thanks to the tons of destination weddings we attended recently).

5. Meet Willie Nelson. He's probably not going to be around much longer, so I'd better get on this one. I've seen him in concert a million times, but think it would kick ass to hang out with him. And if I just happen to be in the neighborhood when it's time for his "medicine" -- even better.

So what's on your list?

Today's title selection: Close My Eyes Forever - Lita and Ozzy

I love you more today than yesterday...but not half as much as tomorrow...

Happy 5th wedding anniversary, SuperHusband!!!

I LOVE YOU!

Today's title selection: More Today Than Yesterday - Spiral Staircase

Flashback Friday: Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight...

Could it get any hotter? I swear every summer I ask myself why in the hell I choose to live in Texas. Then I remember my family is here (and I actually like a couple of them) and it’s a pretty kick-ass place otherwise. So...we stay and endure another 3 months of 100+ degree heat.

Isn't it weird how you didn't mind the sweltering heat as a kid? I loved - and I mean LOVED - the summer when I was growing up and I didn’t even notice the heat…except when I got into my grandpa’s pickup truck:

This is exactly what grandpa's truck looked like...just add a couple of dents and about 100 pounds of dust.

I don’t know what in the hell that Chevy's seats were made out of, but they were black…scratchy…and hot as hell. However, on days that it hauled me to the municipal swimming pool (or my friend Half-Pint's house, which had a pool), I knew better than to complain.

Of course, not every day could be a pool day. That's when I had to improvise.

Fun Fountain
There's something about a creepy clown blowing his lid that screams "Summertime fun!," no? My main memory about this thing was that the water pressure in the middle was a lot harder then the chick on the box makes it out to be. That, and the massive concussion I got every time the hat veered off course (which happened pretty often), fell 12 feet and hit me on the head.

Interestingly enough, this product was made by Wham-O. Coincidence? I think not.


Wet Banana
The Wet Banana was the poor man's Slip 'n Slide.

I had one of these at least one summer and it was heaven! Of course, I also had the requisite cuts from running into the metal things that held this into the ground, the bruises from a few missteps in throwing myself onto the damn thing and, of course, the grass burns that I got when I had too much momentum going to stop. My WB was in the front yard, and we had a huge rectangular mud pit for, like, 2 years after we got rid of the damn thing. But, like the injuries, it was a small price to pay.

Of course, all that playing made me work up a pretty good thirst. And thanks to the Snoopy Snow Cone Machine, it only took my about 30 mnutes to crank out enough ice to make a tasty, (but tiny) shaved ice treat.At one point I upgraded to the Frosty Sno-Cone Machine. Same principle, but it was a little easier to maneuver. Of course, the pill despinser-size cups were still the same.

But what if I wasn't in the mood for shaved ice? No problem. I'd just bust out my Pepsi Soda dispenser and have a nice little carbonated beverage.

Of course, it usually wasn't Pepsi. We were more of a Shasta family. So I'm sure it was Moon Mist Shasta (Mountain Dew flavor...ewww, right?), cream soda or whatever else was on sale that week.

So that's how I stayed cool in the summers...What about you?

Today's title selection: Hot in the City: Billy Idol

I have become comfortably numb...

The Good
I totally forgot to tell y'all we went to CrueFest a couple of weeks ago. Of course, it kicked ass, as you might imagine. SIXX AM was good and we met DJ Ashba and James Michael! (They are the "A" and "M" of SIXX AM.) and Motley Crue was great!! Our seats were 4th row, so I had an amazing view of Nikki. And we were even on the Jumbotron when Tommy was doing his "Tittie Cam," thanks to a chick behind us who showed the goods. (For the uninitiated, yes, the tittie cam is what you think it is.) They didn't play as much of their old stuff (pre-Dr. Feelgood) as we would've liked, but it was still the Crue...

Also good this week: Blind Melon again (hopefully the crowd will be better than last time). And we're skating at Ozzfest on Saturday (Free concert! On wheels!).

The Bad
Work sucked today. I like my job and want to keep it, so I won't go into details. I will say that I don't understand the point of paying someone to write something if you're going to completely change it so it doesn't even resemble the original product. If the edited version were better, that would be one thing...

The Ugly
My poor, aching feet. I totally sound like an old lady here, but my feet are fucking killing me. I think I had my laces too tight last night at practice (at least I'm an old lady who skates). Hell, I don't know, but I can barely walk. I have this weird crampy/numb/painful combo going on. Oh...did I mention they are nice and swollen, too? Yeah...it's lovely.

Of course, I have no idea what to do to make it better because I can't really describe it, which makes Googleing and self-diagnosis extra hard. It's so bad that even my grandma's "sleep with a bar of Ivory soap under the sheet to prevent cramps" advice isn't working (Yes, I do this). And my painkillers are missing (a double tragedy).

Tomorrow will be better.
Today's title selection: Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

Birthday greetings, bottle of wine...

Today I'm sending extra-special-kick-ass birthday wishes to the one and only Professor. Today she turns the big 3-4.

Since she's moved up north, we've missed out on two years of what I'm sure would've been amazing birthday extravaganzi. Lucky for her, she has Red to drink Miller Lite with and to tell her how wonderful she is (she really likes that). Unlucky for all of us (Precious, Blondie, Sugar, DoubleB and me), the Bruce Dickinson to our Iron Maiden is more than 1,500 miles away.

In honor of TheProfessor's birthday, I plan to:

1. Drink massive quantities of light beer this weekend.

2. Sing karaoke with Precious (preferably Southern Cross or Delta Dawn) . Of course,we will call TheProfessor in the midst of this so she can join in via the magic that is Cingular. (We actually do this about every other week anyway so it's not entirely birthday special. But special nonetheless.)

3. Try to find her damn birthday gift (I'm always late...)

4. Wish her a very special day, tell her I love her bunches and disclose her age for all the Internet to see.

One down...three to go!

Today's title selection: When I'm Sixty-Four - The Beatles

Can't you see we're out for blood...

Don't tell SuperHusband, but I'm in love with someone else. He's 17 years old, his name is Edward Cullen and he's a vampire.

Has anyone else read any of the Twilight series?

I was given the first two books (along with an outstanding recommendation) from a friend at work. I admit I was skeptical. I hadn't read any YA fiction in years....probably since an adolescent lit class in college (where I painfully trudged through A Wrinkle in Time). And I am not a big fan of the whole zombie/werewolf/vampire genre. But I was out of town, had just finished RollerGirl - Totally True Tales from the Track (Buy it! Trust me.) and was in need of some reading material. Luckily, I'd thrown Twilight in my bag, just in case.

WOW. Am I glad I did!

I was hooked after the first few pages and didn't put it down until I finished it (well, except to eat and pee. OK. I lied - I took it to the bathroom with me.). Don't get me wrong...it's no Kierkegaard (which is something smart people who don't watch Rock of Love read...from what I hear), but it's light, fun, amazingly entertaining and surprisingly, uh...stimulating (even though there's nothing more than some light kissing).

I'm on the second book now and have devised a perfect strategy for reading it. Since I can't drop everything and read non-stop during the week, I'm letting myself read it for 30 minutes each night on the condition that I ride the stationary bike while I do it. That's right...no exercise, no Edward. So far it's working. You can obviously see why I'm attracted to Edward - he'll never age, he's hot, he loves the nightlife (and presumably he loves to boogie) AND he's helping me lose weight.

What more could a girl want?

Today's Title Selection: Red Hot - Motley Crue

Why does it hurt when I pee...

Has anybody seen the television commercial for Liberator Medical Supply?

No?

Well then let me introduce you to Holly, a 40-ish woman with a penchant for denim button downs and playing with cats in meadows.

Holly tells us that since her health benefits don't cover new catheters, she is forced to reuse them every time she "caths."

OK. First of all...ewww.

Secondly, is cath even a word? Or did she just verbize* catheter? As somebody who evidently reuses catheters pretty regularly...if anyone can do it, I guess she can. But it still bugs me.

And this whole self-cath thing??? When did health care workers stop doing that kind of stuff? I understand there are chronic conditions that require people to do some sort of medical procedure on their own regularly - like diabetics and insulin shots for instance. But I've had a catheter**, and let me tell you, I don't think my public relations degree would have prepared me to put that sucker all the way up in there.

Anyway, enough about me. Back to Holly...

Holly explains how tedious it is to reuse her catheters: She has to boil (I hope in a pot dedicated to that purpose and that purpose alone), dry and reuse them. Plus, they've been causing her to get a lot of nasty urinary tract infections lately (duh!). So what's a girl to do?

Enter Liberator Medical Supply.

Like a shining beacon in the night, Holly hears about this company that will ensure you never again have to boil and toil over your infection-infused catheter. There's only one problem: Holly is afraid to call. Yes, the chick who sanatizes and inserts a pee tube INTO HER BLADDER is too afraid to make a telephone call (a call that we later learn will change her life forever). Thankfully, her mom calls for her.

It's a struggle, but eventually Holly overcomes her telephobia*, talks with the representatives, gets her new catheters and all is well. She feels so good, in fact, that she can squat in the meadow to pet her cat. (Cat...CATheter...nice subliminal messaging there, LMS!)

So what are you waiting for? Pick up the phone and call...

Today's title selection: Why Does It Hurt When I Pee? - Frank Zappa

*= Yes, I know I made that up. But y'all know that's how I roll.
**= I was hospitalized after a car accident. There's nothing like the guy you like coming to visit you in the hospital, sitting beside you and politely asking you if you can stop pissing until he leaves because your catheter is at his feet and he doesn't realize you can't help that shit. I hope Holly never encounters such hatred.

Flashback Friday: If Menudo decir, move your boca like this...

I wasn't really a cartoon kid. Sure, on Saturday mornings I watched them, but I wasn't super excited to jump out of bed to turn on the television. That is, until they started showing this 10-15 minute segment each Saturday that featured a 5 super-cute little brown boys who would sing and dance. That band was called Menudo.

I actually remember very little about the show, other than the fact that I loved it and I'd never seen anything like it (my hometown wasn't very diverse). I recall the guys singing songs that were half English and half Spanish to help broaden little American kids' minds each week.

Once the segments stopped airing, I kept up with the band via Bop, 16 and Tiger Beat. I'd never listened to their music, but they were certainly easy on the eyes, which landed them prime wall space in my bedroom, next to Corey Haim (oh how the mighty have fallen), Kirk Cameron (or become religious fanatics) and Ricky Schroeder (or shown their asses on NYPD Blue). My favorite Menudo member, by far was Sergio Gonzalez. He's the one with the kick-ass suspenders and mullet on the left:

BTW - could Ricky Martin look any weirder?? He looks like a creppy little boy-man (and whose that little tater tot at the bottom?).

Anyway, Sergio was totally my fantasy boyfriend. When we practiced kissing on our pillows at slumber parties, mine was always Sergio (he didn't use much tongue). I thought he was fine...and he only got better (look at that hair! And the rolled sleeves! And the plastic Madonna bracelets!):
My Menudo phase eventually ended and Sergio was replaced by my new infatuation -Donnie from New Kids on the Block. But I looked ol' Serg up the other day and I must say...I was impressed. He might've grown up (and changed his last name to Blass), but he is still pretty fine**.

I might have to make some room on my bedroom wall....


Today's title selection: I have no idea...but I do remember Menudo singing this song while teaching us how to say various body parts in Espanol.


**If you view more pics here...just look past the speedo photo. I'm pretending I didn't see that and you should do the same.

Hmmm...I don't think so...

Y'all know I'm not afraid to make up words here and there, but people who use the word "chillax" in a sentence (as in, "This weekend I plan to kick back and chillax with my friends.") should be shot.

I had a work call today from some random sales guy who seriously used that word in our conversation. WTF? Is there no quicker way to let the world know you are a douchebag than to combine chill and relax into that dumbass hybrid? Espeically if you are over 14. And a dude.

I don't think so.

Today's title selection: Goin' Back to Cali - LL Cool J (who is super hot BTW)

Thank you for being a friend...

Estelle Getty passed away today. This actually made me pretty sad. OK, really sad. While I love all the Golden Girls, Sophia Petrillo has always been my favorite.

Picture it...small town Texas, 1985. My grandma (who I absolutely adore) and I would watch the Golden Girls every Saturday night. It was good quality time for the two of us and we'd laugh for the entire 30 minute episode! Back then, I didn't get all the sexual innuendos and hilarious digs, but I loved it anyway. Now that I am older, I can't believe my super-Catholic grandma who has never drank (with the exception of communion wine) or smoked and was certainly not a "loose woman" like Blanche, found such humor in this show, but she did. Actually, she still does...we both do.

Flash forward to 2008 when there are many a weekday night when I can't get to sleep and find myself tuning in to an episode. (Lucky for me, there's a double header on Lifetime every night!) And I kind of like knowing that 160 miles away, my grandma is probably doing the same thing (unless she's at the Indian Casino in Oklahoma tearing up the penny slots).

Sophia has always reminded me of my grandma - spunky, strong, smart, quick-witted and brutally honest. I think that's what draws me to the show and that character, especially. I am sure TheProfessor, with her fancy PhD in counseling, would agree that's likely why I am sad about Ms. Getty's passing.

As to not end on such a sad note, I hereby give each and every one of you permission to laugh at what a complete and unrepentend dork I am. And while we're at it...I also like Murder She Wrote, Matlock and the occasional Perry Mason.

Better make that a 65 year-old dork in a 33 year-old's body.

Today's title selection: Thank You For Bring a Friend - Cynthia Fee

Black water keeps rollin' on past just the same...

Oh. My. God.

Our shower was backing up, so SuperHusband attempted to fix it. Now, SH double majored in English and philosophy in college and I don't think plumbing was part of either curriculum. But he's proven himself to be pretty handy at most things maintenance-related around our house...and there have been a lot of them. (Today's tip: Even if you are buying a house from someone you know - which I don't advise - get an inspection!). Anyway, I didn't think twice when he went in the bathroom to take care of business.

And all was going well at first...the shower began to drain and we thought it was good. Until we flushed the toilet. That's when all of this disgusting black water started to come up through the drain. AND INTO OUR SHOWER!!!

So I direct SH to the rubber gloves because he tells me there are cotton balls or something in the water. I haven't flushed cotton balls down the toilet ever. And I don't even own any at the moment, so I ventured into the bathroom to see what in the hell it was. Now clad in super-hot yellow rubber gloves, SH picks up one of the "cotton balls" and it's actually a piece of shit. I am not even kidding. It was kind of funny how he dropped it in disgust and kinda squealed like a little girl. But he handled it much better than I would've (no pun intended).

Anyway, come to find out, this is entirely my fault. I cleaned the bathrooms Saturday and flushed about half a roll of paper towels down the drain, not knowing this is a no-no (in case you haven't figured it out...I'm not very domestic). At work they have signs telling me to "dispose of all femine products in the trash recepticle" but I didn't know paper towels fell into the "don't flush" category.

I do now.

Today's title selection: Black Water - Doobie Brothers

Flashback Friday: Dave Navarro's goatee fuckin' sucks...

Remember when Dave Navarro was cool? And in a good band? And a guy?

What happened?


Today's title selection: Dave Navarro's Goatee Sucks - Dangerous Dave/The Bugs

You're So Vain...

Despite the many typos that I am sure appear on my blog, I'm usually a pretty good copy editor. I do a lot of writing/proofreading/editing in my day job. Plus I'm one of those insanely annoying people who finds joy in spotting others' mistakes. This is totally my grandma's fault.

When I was growing up, that's how Gram got me to read the newspaper: she made a game of it. We had a contest to see who could find the most mistakes in each issue. I can't remember what the winner got but if you've read this post, you know it undoubtedly involved some kind of food. I loved this game (nerd alert!) and it was really easy, actually, because our small town weekly was rife with spelling mistakes, horrific punctuation and grammatical tragedies. And her master plan worked. I'm an admitted bibliophile and, to this day, still get a little excited when I spot a mistake in print.

Now...all of that said, I am horrible - absolutely, completely, 100% horrible - at proofreading my own work. I think it's because when I write something, I review it 100 times, changing a word here and a word there until it's as close to perfect as I can get it. Then, when it's time to proof, I essentially have it memorized so I'm more saying it in my head than I am actually reading it. I know this is bad, but I understand my weakness (and, hey...isn't that what assistants are for anyway?) and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

This leads me to the whole reason for this post. You'd think because I know that my mind thinks two words ahead and my fingers sometimes move too fast, that I'd be more careful when commenting on blogs or shooting off quick e-mails (I don't know how many times I've written "dong" instead of doing. And not just in e-mails to Dr.Freud). But I'm never careful. Here's my confession:

I don't use the Preview button. Ever. I'm so damn cocky, that I go straight to Submit.

So if I've commented on your blog, I totally apologize. Please know that as soon as that horrible "Are serious? I car tennis rocket hell." comment popped up, I felt like a complete dumbass. And, of course, I couldn't go back and change it. So then I had to post again to apologize, say that I suck, then tell you what I really meant to say. Which, now that I think about it, gave you a bonus comment. So maybe you should be thanking me here...


Today's title selection: You're So Vain - Carly Simon