Crazy vs. Stupid

Daughter comes home from work with boyfriend today. They have been to Coldstone and have ice cream cones. Teddy has a giant waffle cone dipped in chocolate with, I think, cookie dough ice cream. Boyfriend (who wants to be called Killdozer. *sigh*) has gingerbread ice cream.

They sit on the couch and Teddy tells me in a chipper voice, "Killdozer says he hates me." He is going outside at this point to fetch the wiffle ball that got chucked over the fence somehow.

"How sad. What happened." I try not to overreact since she is looking like the cat who swallowed the canary.

At this point, Killdozer comes back into the room, and says, "Just a little bit." He is holding his index finger and thumb about an inch apart to show me just how little it is. "You know, I'm not gay but I understand how guys would want to hang out just with guys."

Well, now he really has my attention. What happened?

"What did she do?" I suppose it is unfair of me to immediately assume that Teddy Bear had somehow provoked him. What can I say? I used to tell the kids a fair is where men in overalls pitch cow shit and race pigs. Get over it. They used to get so bent about mom being unfair. (Is there a mom in the world whose middle name isn't Meany?)

Anyway, he tells me, "Girls are crazy." Teddy is giggling at this point so lord knows what torment she has just put him through. But it is now making more sense. She has a talent for driving him nuts. They bicker like an old married couple sometimes.

"I have to ask. If women are crazy, what are men."

"Men are stupid." He says it so matter of factly. Like, what's the big deal. Lord help them. They have to put up a tent when they go to Coachella. We tried to put it together in the backyard. Let's just say, the first good fart and that thing is coming down. But, it was refreshing to hear a guy say that they are stupid. And it was said with all sincerity, like he would rather be stupid than crazy. Sheesh. That's nuts.

So, in the battle of the sexes, it is Crazy vs. Stupid.

There's A Crack in the Neutral Zone

Dr. F. Latus has invented a new gas neutralizing liner~! A new stocking stuffer for the man in your life. Okay, maybe a few women need it, too. No more malodorous noxious clouds emanating from the hineys of our loved ones. A pantiliner for flatulence. A gassy dream catcher.

Last night I met up with my baby brother, his wife JuJuBeez, and friends Phinelli. (I really need to come up with a name for them.) BB said that John from John and Ken on KFI found this new ad for Subtle Butt, the gas neutralizerr. Butt, I mean but, John loves to hear Terri-Rae Elmer say "Ewwwww" to all the gross things they discuss in the news, so he had an ulterior motive.

After consuming dinner, drinks, and the Mother Lode chocolate cake from Claim Jumpers, we probably all needed the Subtle Butt. Manelli said she needed it ASAP, so I suggested a hasty retreat outside to walk around.

We discussed what movies we would take to the proverbial desert island. JuJuBeez first said we could not take a series of movies, you know, like Lord of the Rings. All the geeks at the table cried foul. I told her that if she wanted to take the BBC mini-series of Pride and Prejudice that would count as one movie. I am not sure she relented but then she said she wanted a favorite old movie, a favorite comedy....Sheesh. Maybe we could all take one from each decade.

Then, of course, the women discussed which men they would want...and they could be men that had already passed away if we wanted~! Woohoo. I was crushed momentarily by the thought that so many of the men I wanted were actually the characters in movies, not the actor himself. Captain Jack Sparrow? Yes, oh yes, yes, please, PLEASE.... but not Johnny Depp. Aragorn from Lord of the Rings, but not Viggo Mortensen. I mean, I really don't want to hear what they think, I just want to play with them. What is the opposite of misogyny? If a man said this stuff, I guess I would get all huffy and offended. Maybe. But since I am quite sure if a man had a choice of any 5 women he could take to a desert island, I am positive I would not be on that list, so I can relax.

Off to dream about who the 5 men would be on my Island of Five...

I Summon Penguinis~! Take That Captain Maximum

A pudgy baggy pants Italian Spiderman with a mustache that looks like a secret weapon getting the crap kicked out of him on a surfboard (in a surf off with Captain Maximum) by babes in bikinis who uses a conch shell to summon PENGUINS to vanquish his foe and get the briefcase with the asteroid?!!

HT to Ruthless for sharing the Italian Spiderman and the Japanese Spiderman You Tube videos with me last night as we tried to bring Casey's computer back from computer hell. His computer is in the same room as Casey's, so he got tortured by us trying to fix the computer and giggling. He was on his computer playing WoW. (Now, the only reason I know what THAT is is because Teddy Bear used to play World of Warcraft, too. Until I refused to pay for it each month. I am such a brat.) He said I wasn't allowed to laugh at him because he had a headset on. Mois? Laugh? Not hardly. I have a dent on the side of my head from my headset squashing my glasses to my head. So he played WoW and we watched her computer scan, which is like watching paint dry. Good thing Casey and I never seem to run out of stuff to talk about. WoW is probably more fun but I have no CLUE what the heck was going on. I'm afraid I would be like Leeroy Jenkins in the video below. Rush out there, clueless and causing trouble. I am sure I would be banished from Azeroth....or whatever.

This Bunny Laid an Egg

The damn Easter Bunny has given my daugher a life-long fear of characters. She is 19 years old now and still will not go near a character. Mickey gives her hysterics, Pooh lives up to his name, and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum cause fits.

When she was about 18 months old, I took her and her older sister, the Hot Tamale, to Sam's Club to do some shopping. She was happily riding in the cart and her older sister walked next to her. (They are about 5-1/2 years apart.) I had to go to the service counter for some reason I cannot for the life of me remember.

Teddy was standing in the cart next to me but I had my back to her. Her sister told me later what happened. All I heard was a blood curdling scream and turned around in time to see a 6 foot bunny rabbit jump back and rip his head off hyperventilating. (His character head. Although I did want to rip off his real one.) Dumb bunny.

Hot Tamale told me he was creeping up on us with his balloons in hand. I guess he thought it would be fun to sneak up on Teddy Bear and surprise her. Well, he certainly did that. She literally screamed like someone had pulled her head off. How does that much volume come out of something that little? She probably weighed all of 20 pounds. (She has always been a little thing with messy reddish hair.)

The Hot Tamale happily kicked him in the shins for scaring her little sister. It was not a pleasant sight. A tall purple bunny with no head, standing there, red-faced and sweating, and breathing like he was going to pass out. Poor Teddy. She was screaming so loud I had to grab my stuff and go.

So, all you mommies with the happy pictures of your kids with Mickey and Santa. Phhttt...pphhttt.... Shit. How do you make a raspberry sound.

All The Hoos Down in Hooville

Headline: "Cities Deal with a Surge in Shanty Towns" New York Times

During the Depression, shanty towns sprouted up all over the country called Hoovervilles. Not sure what they will call ours--Bushvilles or Obamavilles. Not that it matters.

Does it not make you angry with all the fake histronics about the AIG bonuses? Christopher Dodd knew damn well what he was doing when he slipped in the last bailout plan the clause about bonuses, so his fake shock is disgusting and criminal. For Congress to go after the bonuses with the power of the IRS is foul. Let them have the balls to look at the so-called sacrosanct contracts that 'forces' them to give the money for bonuses. Wouldn't you love to see the contract that lets some scumball financial wizard get a huge bonus even though his company is now jeopardizing the whole financial system? Oh, yes. Where are the great Watergate type reporters looking into that?

Every time Congress turns around, they are making a bad situation worse. Tariffs, taxes, earmarks, pork. Pelosi is a pig. Leave it to San Francisco to keep sending someone that moronic back to Congress all the time. Remember, people, this is YOUR money they are throwing around, not THEIR money. They point a gun to your head, threaten you with seizure of your property and confiscation of your bank accounts if you do not pay up. They should think long and hard about every dollar they spend when it is seized from us.

Maybe they will give some back to us because now we will be poor.

Onomatopoeia

The Yes Dance

Oh man~! Come on, bitches, let's dance~! Let's do the fork in the garbage disposal, Let's do the fork in the garbage disposal. Ding, ding, ding, da ding ding... Slow down bitch, that's enough.

Arghhh, buzz, hiss, mew, woof......

Driven Nuts

Don McLean American Pie

This song drives me nuts. This song does, too.



Most anything by Willie Nelson or the Beach Boys sends me over the edge. I probably could learn to like Willie again, but unfortunately he was my ex's favorite musician so he always played it all the time. I am a rock and roll girl, the louder the better. But I tolerated Willie for years and even learned to love The Highwaymen, but when only one person gets to choose the music for a road trip, it gets old after awhile. I remember playing some Billy Idol, Rebel Yell I believe, and totally getting all into it and thinking, man, this really puts me in the mood, when he came in, turned OFF the music, turned ON Willie and said this really put him in the mood. WTF. Who cares what puts a man in the mood? Doesn't everything put them in the mood? I was married long enough and had enough friends to know if something puts a wife in the mood, man, you better play that stuff a lot~! Maybe he was tone deaf. He certainly had no clue what music rocked my world.

So, in the end, it came down to Should I Stay or Should I Go?


Apologies to The Clash. They rock.

The Prez, P.C., and Pins

Jay Leno Show with President Barack Obama March 2009

And the gold medal goes to....HAHAHA. Obama was funny on this clip. I am not a Democrat and I am no longer a Republican. I am mad at both of them but this clip is truly fun to watch. Do I for one minute think he is malicious? Heartless? Cruel? Or worse...a Republican~! Egads. Nooooo.....

It is so much fun to hear the wails from the right and left on this one. You can say things like this if you are on the left because, of course, by default you are compassionate, kind, generous, loving, without a mean bone in your body, so if you make a joke about Special Olympians and their lack of ability, you are just joshing. Gosh. Can't you take a joke? If you say something like this and you are on the right, then you are an evil, heartless, pinched, miserly human being, you cannot possibly say something like this in the same spirit as Obama did in this clip. The left needs to stop ascribing evil intents to the right and the right needs to stop saying, neener, neener, you are a hypocrite. The left does not care if they are hypocrites.

I think it was funny. We have jokes about rednecks, Nascar people, trailer trash, white trash, hippies, the nuts and flakes from California, limousine liberals, fly-over country people. South Park makes a fortune making fun of every stereotype there is. Smug Alert is a favorite of mine.

Is this clip funny? I think it is mean but then I dislike Johnny Knoxville intensely so I am probably a pretty poor judge and I did not see the entire movie. Maybe it had some redeeming qualities.



Cruelty is such a different animal than teasing. We went to visit my grandma one day and there was a boy there with this incredibly huge head kind of lying on the couch in the living room. I think he was a cousin. I have so many cousins, I stopped keeping track. The last count I attempted was about 35 first cousins. I was young and could not understand the whole situation. My mom told me he had water on the brain. Say what? Couldn't they just drain it out of his head? As an adult, I assume they meant hydrocephalus. I thought it was kind of icky. Cut me some slack. I was a kid. What I do remember was how gentle and kind everyone was with him and I knew to say something mean would have been not just wrong, I think even then I knew it would have said something about my character. Thinking about it now, I think it would have hurt my heart to hear someone be cruel to him.

Political correctness is such drag. I wish someone would send it down the gutter.

Tortured by Twilight

You know it's bad when the parodies are better than the movie. I loved the books. I read the first two in a weekend and would have read the third one but I had to run to the store to get it and I did not want to put the first two down until I was done and then it was too late to make it to the store. When Breaking Dawn came out, I read it in about 8 hours. Get it? I am a fan of the books. One of those weird mom types who loved it. So go ahead. Bash away.

It was romantic and slightly edgy and had sex in it without really having sex in it. Let's face it, Bella was one horny girl. They were great fun to read. My sister-in-law asked me once which I liked better, the Harry Potter series or the Twilight series. If I HAD to pick, I would say Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling created a whole new world with its own landscape and rules and different kinds of creatures. I so want to believe that Harry Potter is still out there becoming a great wizard and that his story is not finished yet. Rowling is such a diva though. Sigh. Twilight is a love story. Love stories are great. Girl meets boy. Boy meets girl. They fall in love, then tragedy or separation or something happens. They overcome obstacles, even great lapses in time, and then they are together. Edward and Bella have nothing on Jane Eyre and Rochester, Darcy and Lizzy.

I wanted so much to like the movie but, alas, was screwed. First of all, the author sold the rights to a second rate studio. What was she thinking? Meyers should have held out for a better studio, infinitely better director, better script. You also know you are trouble when the author is too helpful in the making of the movie. They should have thrown her ass off that set.

I bought the movie last night on DVD. Spent $17 hard earned dollars on it. Now I could really figure out if I liked it or not. There are many movies I have learned to love after seeing it more than once--"Love Actually" leaps to mind. But now I know this is a terrible movie, right up there with every bad B movie I have ever seen.

Not to pick on people with Parkinson's or anything, but does Kristen Stewart have a tremor or something? I wanted to squeeze her frickin' head and keep it still. In the book, Bella is a klutz, not a damn weenie so scared she is shaking in her boots and quivering all over. And Edward. Jeez, the scene where he gets a whiff of her in the classroom for the first time. Cut. Take two. Get it right for god's sake. He looks like he wants to barf like he has just smelled something atrocious the cat dragged in. An underlying theme running through the book is how attracted they are to each other, not repelled. Her scent should be so intoxicating he can think of nothing else but getting some of that. And he is not so supposed to be a weenie either. I wanted to squeeze his damn head between my hands and tell him to stop ducking his chin like he was preparing for a blow.

The rest of the characters were for the most part B movie quality. Jasper looks like a wide-eyed puppet character. If someone said 'Boo', I think he might have shit his pants. Rosalie and Emmett? Yikes.

I give this movie half a star. I mean I did like Charlie and Jacob.

Beware of Scorpios...They Are Everywhere~!

Go to :43 and listen to what a Scorpio is like. HAHAHA.

I was surrounded by Scorpions last night. Good thing they were drinking. Or maybe not. This Virgo was outnumbered by three Scorpios and one Sagittarius, Teddy Bear's boyfriend, which by the way is a centaur using a bow and arrow. Did you know that? It was the monthly scrapbooking night at my house. Once again, Frog played with her pictures and actually TORE some up and threw them away. Whoa. That takes guts. Casey played with her books and is going to redo Ruthless's book. I like to tease and call her son Cynical and Ruthless. Actually, what am I saying. That's what he calls himself. He has a wicked sense of humor and he only laughs at me a little to my face for which I am deeply grateful. I should call him the Avian Assasin but that's another story. I played with all my pretty paper and did not touch one picture. I figure by the end of the year I might have put one picture on a page. It's a lofty goal but I am trying to be kind to myself this year.

As always, we spent more time talking and laughing than anything else. Teddy Bear and her boyfriend were there. I tried to make them go upstairs to watch TV. They were watching "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," but I think they like to listen to us talk, so they were pretending to watch the show. We can get down and dirty and I think it cracks them up. Teddy Bear came into the kitchen where we were "working" and somehow it came up that she was a Scorpio. It turns out Frog and Casey and Teddy Bear are all Scorpios~! Now, I am sure a lot of this is hooey, but I love the description of Scorpios because it is so right on for all three of them.

Scorpios are passionate and powerful. Check. All three of them are definitely passionate about how they feel whether it is about being happy, mad, sad, glad... On the down side, they are stubborn and obstinate. Check. Don't piss off a Scorpio. They are inquistive about what makes people tick. Check. Frog is going back to school to finish a degree in psychology and Teddy Bear keeps coming back to psychology as a major in college. Casey is an incredibly good judge of people, it is almost uncanny. I am a clueless but fascinated observer of human nature. Hey, that's a good idea for a scrapbook page! My friends and their signs.

So, what sign are you? Yes, that is a pick-up line...

What's a Plup Erfect?

Spelling Bee 2008

As I get older, I find that skills I used to have are fading fast. I used to be able to read very, very quickly and not be a spaz at it. I have never been able to read upside down or backwards. I think you have to be an alien to do that well. Look at Leonardo Da Vinci. You don't think he was of this world do you? He has a whole book HAND written backwards. Freaky.

Have you ever had a word or phrase in your head and for the life of you cannot remember where you heard it or why it is rattling around in your head...and it will not leave you alone?! I used to read billboards so quickly and be muttering things like The Real Thing under my breath. Why, oh why? Damn Coke ad.

What I have noticed is that now I may read a word but I know that cannot possibly be what I read. I was reading a Twitter a friend had written and it had the word plup erfect in it...at least I thought that was what it said. I had to go back and realize he was saying pluperfect subjunctive tense. (I think he might be from the same planet as Da Vinci.)

But that is not the first time I have done that. I was shopping with my mom and sister and I was looking for a purse. I love purses and I love shopping for them. It was a big sale at Macy's or Robinson May, I don't remember now. I think we must have been laughing at people who buy purses with the name plastered all over it or even that obnoxious brand with the letter 'C' all over it. Thinking I am such a smart ass, I picked up another purse (which was cute by the way), and asked, "What's a Rizona? What a silly name." They both look at me, then the purse, and really, they did not have to laugh that hard. Look at the name again. What does it say? Oh, yeah, huh. ARIZONA. Not a Rizona.

It's Happy Hour~! Gonna go play now.

Shamrock, Shmamrock...

So I missed posting on St. Patrick's Day. Can I kiss your blarney stone to show how apologetic I am? I did have a green margarita in a Mexican restaurant. I could not help thinking though that the only thing Irish in the restaurant was my half Irish daughter. I call her my SpicMick. (I can say that you know.)

This hermit is going insane. I went to the Valley on Saturday and did not leave the house again until Tuesday to go to dinner with my darlin' leprechaun Teddy Bear and her pot 'o gold boyfriend. I think she thinks of him as a pot 'o gold anyways. I love going out with those two. They tolerate my endlessly stupid questions and only snicker a little bit. They get a lot of looks when they are together. He has incredibly long hair and is good looking and Teddy Bear is beautiful, but I think he gets more double takes because of his hair.

Back to work for me because that damn leprechaun did not leave his pot 'o gold for me.

That wasn't me. Honest. It was PMS.

Okay, I so feel like the lady in the car who gets her door dinged first. You could have said you were sorry, but no, the snarky rude lady chastises her for her tone and then makes a snide comment. I am so sick of the president, of congress, of the banks, of every fat-headed stooge on the financial TV news, I could scream.

Today Yahoo! Shine had an article on Bernie Madoff and yours truly popped off in a mad PMS moment. Truthfully, I cannot remember the last time I felt like this--irritated, cranky. I bet if I looked in the mirror, I would see Maxine. If you jump to the link, I am posting as Kat. I rarely go off like that online. Manners are a good thing and I like to practice them whenever possible.

But I have had it with articles like this. We have spent our whole lives, well, us boomers anyway, hearing things like "Invest over the long run." "Save for your retirement." "Diversify." Blah. Blah. Blah. Okay, I want to know how on earth us ordinary people out here in reality land can do our "due diligence" when fat-headed politicians like Barney Frank, Maxine Waters, Christopher Dodd who are supposed to be our eyes and ears and voice in Congress do not do their due diligence. In fact, they sold us down the river. Or perhaps the SEC? No. Okay, maybe the FDIC? Dang, running out of letters in the alphabet here.

What really got my goat was being chastised by Rainie for not being polite and minding my manners. I said the article was fatuous and fat-headed and then I quoted Jon Stewart who dropped the 'F' bomb on Jim Cramer reaming him a new one on his show. (You have to see the videos, they are hysterical.) There is a comment in their Yahoo article left by a commenter about hanging someone, someone else says they have no pity for anyone who lost money, but I get told to be nice. You know, Elie Wiesel, the Holocaust survivor had his foundation money with Bernie Madoff, but no, no pity there. Sheesh. Nice. I did not say the author of the article was fat-headed. I don't know that for a fact, so it is up for debate. I was making a comment on the article itself.

That is why they always say to think before you speak, but they they also say he who hesitates is lost. Go figure.

Speedway to Rod Run in Temecula

The Rod Run is going on in Temecula this weekend. It is a little overcast today but no rain in the forecast. One of the comments on my Vroom Vrooooomm post made me start thinking about my first car, my 1965 Ford Mustang and my love of muscle cars, any car that hauls ass. My Mustang was a blue green color, no air conditioning, roll up windows, but I loved it. Unfortunately, it was only a 6 cylinder, so it did not have the speed I liked, which was probably a good thing when I think about it. My ex for a while owned a Camaro, electric blue with a vinyl top that had 8 cylinders and loved to go fast~!

I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit how often I would race down Saticoy Avenue in that car on my way home from work. I loved it when guys would pull up in their cars and they would think they would beat me off the line. Ha! Fat chance. I would try to look prim and proper like I would never race, but I would have one foot on the brake and the other itching to hit that accelerator. The light would turn green and I would take off! I loved it when they would try to catch up with me because I had no problem driving aggressively and squeezing in and out of traffic.

My next car was a 1979 Ford Mustang with an 8-cylinder, but my first love is still that 1965 Mustang. My ex's friends were all into their cars and fixing them and some of them even raced. One friend was a Rolls Royce mechanic but he loved to fix up his cars and race at the track. To this day, hearing an engine growl just brings me back to my teenage years.

I still drive too fast and aggressively, just ask Casey. She holds her breath and prays when she drives with me. I think she might even stomp on her imaginary brake pedal. Driving shotgun with me is not her cup of tea. HAHAHA.

I would love to drive all the cars in this video. They look like alien vehicles from planet Car. If I were to ever win a bunch of money, after being practical and commonsensical, you had better believe I would try to find one of these cars to buy. Do you think they ever come up on Craigslist?

A Grandma By Any Other Name

My baby brother and I went out to the Valley today to visit my mom. I was so happy to see her looking so good. She had pneumonia and could not make it for Zayne's first birthday. After three weeks of hacking and coughing, she went to the doctor and was put on antibiotics. Such a marvelous thing, don't you think? She looks and sounds great now. My sister was babysitting Zayne while his parents went to an engagement party for a friend of hers, so we went to lunch and then joined my sister at her house.

Brother and I took her out to eat at Chi Chi's. Did you know they make their pasta fresh every day and have the best sourdough rolls ever? It has been a long time since just the three of us were together and it was a blast. My mom is so funny. She was saying that she and my dad want to make a trust instead of a will, but she kept saying it wasn't a trust, it was called something else. I know she didn't mean living will and BB asked if she meant living trust. She kept saying no, no, that's not it. (She is famous for saying that; we even named her computer network NoNoThat'sNotIt.) She looks at me and says, "You know what it is. What's it called?" She said the thing that keeps things out of rebate. I know, I know, she meant probate. We were stumped and she kept talking trying to figure it out. Finally she blurts out, "Living trust!" My brother and I told her we said that already. She laughed and asked us if we were sure. Ah, my mom, I love her so much.

We spent the rest of the afternoon with my sister and 2 boys at her house. Zayne is such a good baby. He cruised around the house, which is little boy heaven since she has 2 boys, and was having a good time even when he bonked his head and gave himself a goose egg. We played with him and then she fed him. That little dude can eat~! He polished off one whole jar of food, a whole container of applesauce, and enough Cheerios to fill a hollow leg.

As we were leaving, my sister was holding Zayne and having him wave good-bye to Grandma. As we drove away, my brother said it is still a shock to him that that means me~! My mom has always been Grandma, so what should I be called? I am trying for G'ma but not sure that is flying with anyone, but it is getting exasperating. My mom is only 71, so she will be around for a long while, so we have to come up with my grandma name.

I am hoping for something cool, but it will probably be Granny just you watch.

Vroom Vroooommmm

Speed Racer

Casey sent me one of those personality tests: What kind of car would you be? Teddy Bear took the test and she was a Ferrari 360 Modena. Casey was a Dodge Viper. (Sounds like a character in Kill Bill.) I was a Chevrolet Corvette--"You're a classic--powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical every day side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do."

But then I went back and changed one answer--What tool would you be more comfortable wielding? Sledgehammer or scalpel? At first, I thought scalpel, but the more I thought about it, the more I said, hell no, give me that sledgehammer. Then I became a Ford Mustang~! Woohoo. My first car I owned was a 1965 Ford Mustang. "An American classic--fast, strong, bold. You're not snobby or pretentious, but you have what it takes to give anyone a run for their money. " That felt more right.

Let's be truthful though. If I were a car, I would be a jalopy. The seats are saggy, the headliner is falling down, badly in need of alignment, and the head lights are definitely in need of replacement.

Poms Poms in Peking

ABC News

Cheerleading in China~! Go America. Conquering the land of the Forbidden City with poms poms and pyramids. As the mom of a former high school cheerleader, this absolutely tickled my fancy. I missed the opening ceremonies of the Olympics last year, so I missed the cheerleaders. I had no idea it had become a big deal there.

How does a country go from ugly ass Chairman Mao suits to short skirts, wiggling hips, and basket tosses? Can you imagine a Communist version of "Bring It On"? I would love to see a competition between a Chinese cheerleading squad and one from the south. That would be one heck of a reality show. Do they have the tradition of Homecoming games and alumni?

Tyranny cannot last long when freedom comes with glitter and poms poms.

Heaven vs. Hell

Constantine

The idea of hell has always frustrated and fascinated me. Fallen angels. God versus the devil. Good versus evil. Sinners, redemption.

I went to Catholic school from 5th grade until I graduated high school. I went to Sunday school, studied the Baltimore Catechism. I had my First Holy Communion, was Confirmed and was baptized in the church. You would think I would know this stuff, but I don't. My BFF is practically a walking encyclopedia on religions.

What got me started was reading an article on evil. Not bad people doing bad things. Not even good people who snap and do bad things. Evil. So, I am going to confess to my ignorance regarding this subject. Did God make hell? Growing up, the nuns would tell us all about mortal sins and roasting in hell fire for eternity. ETERNITY. It was absolutely frightening to me. Some of the sins that were mortal sins seemed pretty easy to commit. Rebelling against your parents?? Jiminy, doesn't everyone on the planet rebel against their parents? Why would that send you to hell. Okay. Maybe that isn't true anymore. I know they changed the rule about babies who died without being baptized going to limbo.

I really would like to know does religion teach that Satan is equal to God? They battle for the souls of man? I know the idea is that God does not send people to hell, people commit sins that by default send them to Hades. By the way, wouldn't Satan like having all the bad people in the world down partying with him? I mean a big part of me likes the idea of Hitler roasting in hell and being tormented for his sins. But why would Satan PUNISH people? He likes bad, enjoys evil, delights in torment. Wouldn't it be God who does the punishing?

Maybe I should have paid more attention in Sunday school. Those nuns were scary though. I remember Sister Benedict. She was the principal at my elementary school. One day, I guess the teacher in our 5th grade class was absent, so she came in to teach us. Sister was a cranky old lady. She had the long black habit, a long rosary hung down from her waist, and she always seemed to be in a bad mood. She was asking the kids something, probably about what the teacher had been teaching us. I wasn't paying attention. She blathered on and on. I was reading a book at my desk, I think it was "Christy" by Catherine Marshall, my favorite book at that age. I was totally engrossed turning the pages as fast as I could when all of a sudden, WHACK! I got nailed in the head by Sister Benedict. Sheesh. At least I never had to stand with my nose against the chalkboard with gum stuck to my nose. (Gum chewing was definitely discouraged.) I am also very glad I did not have to have my mouth washed out with soap. Our bathrooms had liquid soap and I am sure it tasted terrible.

And don't get me started on uniforms and oxford shoes and wool skirts and itchy knee high socks and stations of the cross and confession and......Sigh. How many Hail Marys will this be?

What Do You Want to be When You Grow Up?

More importantly, when do you know you are grown up? The people who when they walk in the room you know, here's a grown up. What is it about them? You know they are mature, sometimes fuddy duddy, but they would be the first ones you run to if you needed help. I know a lot of it has to do with being competent, the willingness to take on a job and do it well, even if no one is watching you, even if you did not want to take on the responsibility, especially if you did not want the responsibility, but you did it anyways. And you don't do it muttering under your breath like a child, being whiny, and letting everyone within whining distance know you are doing something you don't want to do, but by god you are doing it anyways. Look at me, aren't I all grown up?

I ask because even though I consider myself competent about what I do, the most immature things still make me laugh. My sister-in-law, my sister, some of my friends, we can laugh hysterically talking about farting. Getting bloated because you pigged out on potato chips and you feel like the Goodyear Blimp? The time when you were pregnant and you sat down just wrong and, dang, a little squeaker comes ripping out. Come talk to us until the feeling passes. (I crack myself up.) We still giggle about almost everything. JuJuBeez can be on the phone for 15 seconds with me and we will be laughing within that time.

Casey and I can spend hours by the pool when we go to Vegas and laugh about all the people there and what the heck is going on. The last time was the best. How were we to know it was a topless pool at the Venetian? Sheesh, doesn't everyone go to the pool with their heels on, wearing necklaces and doodads, killer bikins, and enough make up to make a drag queen happy? We watched the parade of girls line up starting at about 11. They had a bouncer at the entrance with the rope strung across it just like at a snooty club and he was deciding who got in. That's when it got interesting to us. Some people were being turned away?!! Believe me, they were not turning away the hot chicks with the big flotation devices, no sir. But where were the men? It did not take long, they started showing up about an hour later. That was much more yummy, I mean, interesting.

So anyways...back to what did you want to be when you grow up? At one point, I wanted to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, then I got married and wanted lots of kids, then I wanted to run away to join the circus, and then I got divorced. Now, I really want to know what I want to be when I grow up. I wish I could follow Mike Rowe around. He has the best job in the world. Well, I take that back. I could not do half the jobs he does but I think going around like that and getting paid money to do it would be grand.

So I am super-duper-uper serious, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Buddies

My favorite dog in the world was Tank, a large, 120-pound, furry black dog. He looked like a huge black lab only with more "feathers" on his tail and legs. He was almost human. I own a fat wiener dog named Bo and my SIL had Roxie, or Houndini as she called her. The fastest dog I have ever seen. My other brother has a huge Irish hound looking dog, Cabo, so ugly she is beautiful. She easily weighs 130 pounds or more and she thought she was the boss of everyone. Tank tolerated her, Bo ignored her, and Roxie loved to torment her. Cabo loves to chase tennis balls and will play forever running it down, but lord help the dog that tried to get to it first. Did I mention she was bossy? Well, when Roxie got big enough to play, it was a different ballgame altogether.

We were throwing the ball and the dogs would run all over each other to get to it. Bo tried like mad to keep up on his short little legs, his ears flopping in the air, half the time ending up being rolled like a sausage when the big dogs would run him over chasing the ball. I guess Roxie got tired of playing second fiddle to Cabo. Cabo probably outweighed Roxie by about 100 pounds easily, but Roxie could have worn a cape and been an action figure she was so fast. The next time the ball gets thrown, Cabo runs like mad, huge and quick to get the ball. Roxie races after her, goes UNDERNEATH her (like the scene in Christmas Vacation when they get stuck under the truck), gets to the ball FIRST, and scampers away. Cabo looks down in disbelief and in that instance runs head long into a tree. To this day, I always wonder if Roxie planned it that way.

One day, we were all visiting my sister and her husband in the Valley. We left Tank, Bo, and Roxie in their backyard and went to dinner. Roxie was an escape artist but they have a high fence and we figured no way could they get out. After dinner, we head back to my sister's house following my BIL in his loud Chevy van. We turn the corner and get out of our cars. As we stand there waiting for everyone to show up, we look down the street and under the street light we see three dogs trotting along at a pretty good clip headed for us. We do a double take. It is Tank, Bo, and Roxie with Tank in the lead, Roxie next with her tongue that perpetually hung out of her mouth as if it were too long to fit in her head, and Bo trailing.

We yell at all three dogs and put them back in the yard wondering how on earth they just did not get lost. Bo follows his nose everywhere and always got lost in our old neighborhood. Thank goodness all my neighbors eventually learned where he belonged and Roxie was truly an escape artist. The more we thought about it the more we could not figure it out. All the gates were still locked and there did not appear to be an opening they could all have fit through.

But there they were, all safe and sound. My BIL loved his dog and he felt bad about hollering at him. We went outside to check on them. Tank is lying down and will not turn around to look at us. He has a thoroughly put out attitude going on. BIL tries to get Tank to turn around but Tank actually moves to keep his back to us. If dogs could talk, I am quite sure he would have told us off. He led the other two nimrods back to safety and what does he get as his reward? Bless his heart, he was so smart and the other two dogs had more bark than brains, so he knew he had to get them home.

I hope Tank is enjoying himself with endless pizza, no fleas, and all the dog treats he can eat in doggie heaven.

The Sucky Aunt Club

My sister-in-law (JuJuBeez) and I are charter members and founders of "The Sucky Aunt Club." We even wanted to start an e-card web site with sucky aunt cards you could send to all these near and dear to you. I distinctly remember the time I was racing to go to our nephew's birthday. I had actually managed to buy a card, put his name on it, and seal it, but on the way down to San Diego, remembered that I left it at home. I frantically called JuJuBeez and she says she got a card. It was sealed but they would open it up for me so I could put some money in it and sign the card. We mangled that card good getting it open again, but I am sure he did not care. What makes it really bad, though, his mom is like supermom and super aunt. We got a thank you card from him and everything. Sigh. It really sucked.

So my sister is also a super aunt. It can be rather nauseating. But she has finally crossed over into the dark side with us. She admitted to being a sucky aunt. It was a pretty snarky e-mail she sent, but at least she admitted to it. We may lose her quickly, though. She is already looking for a 12-step program for this malady. That also sucks.

To further cement my place in The Sucky Aunt Club, I did not go to my nephew's birthday lunch yesterday, I went to the John and Ken Tax Revolt. I only get partial credit for sending my daughter and boyfriend in my place.

They like her better anyways.

Damn Tootin' They Would~!

Jaced.com

As anybody who knows me knows, I am not a dog lover. I am a dog putter-up with type person; I tolerate them at best. But, I do love dogs who are well-behaved, the cool dogs of the world. I have discovered though that the coolest dogs in the world tend to have the coolest owner, and after watching the "Dog Whisperer" for countless hours, I realize that that is no accident.

Some dogs have these great personalities already, but you team them up with an awesome owner, and the results are magic. Did you ever see the video about "Skidboot?" Get out your kleenex when you watch it, but it is well worth watching.



The last line of the first video is a classic--"Would the dogs eat this?" I have seen our dogs eat some of the nastiest things imaginable. What is such a delicacy about cat poops? Dead rodents and lizards? For you people who let your dogs lick your face....yuck. I see what my dogs lick and it ain't pretty.

Please, don't send the PETA police after me (although I guess that would be fun, too). I do own 2 dogs, Bo, a fat weiner dog, age 12 or so, and Indy, half Chihuahua and half Papillon. In my time as a mom in the trenches, we have owned a horse, a cockatiel, dwarf hamsters, fish, cats, and dogs. I love when dog owners tell funny stories about their dogs. Nancy has cute stories about her adorable dog, Chloe, and "her" park. I keep trying to convince her to write the stories down because they are funny and she so loves her dog.

But dogs will eat anything and I bet they would have enjoyed the hell out of the stuff pulled out of the freezer, even if they barfed it all up later.

Gov. Girlie Man and the Taxpayer Revolt 2009

John and Ken from KFI 640 had a rally in Fullerton, California yesterday. Man, you want to talk about fun, that was a blast. It was heads on a stick time, sledge hammering Arnold movies (Total Recall and Terminator were big hits), and organizing against Prop.1A.

I don't know how many thousands of people were there, but it was great to see so many people who are angry and wanted their voices heard about the horrendous new taxes rolling our way and the real possibility that more new taxes will be demanded. I am not sure it makes any difference, but I wanted to go and at least show my support.

People were dressed up as Benedict Arnold and pirates, and posters were everywhere. People brought their dogs and their kids. They had games you could play, The Flush-a-nator and Getting Over the Hump, and the prizes were t-shirts. The Slidebar Cafe hosted the day. I guess, that is the word you would use, and what a great place. I cannot wait to go back and hear some incredible music. It was a very friendly crowd. At one point, a parade of hundreds of people joined the crowd, playing drums and waving flags.



The people watching was the best. One lady seemed to be the focus of the only negative reaction I saw. One man, Hispanic looking, was harassing her and trying to get a rise out of the crowd. We saw him later with a few other guys talking and yelling once in a while "Heads on a stick" as if they trying to fit in. It was hilarious. I guess there was some fuss at one point near the stage but I missed that, darn it. We ate at the Old Spaghetti Factory for about an hour, so we missed it. There were two cute older gentleman, kind of dressed up in costume with signs on their back that said "Germans Against Arnold" and "Austrians Against Arnold."

Downtown Fullerton is a great place to walk, lots of cafes and restaurants, and little shops. There was even what I think was an old playhouse, The Fullerton Civic Light Opera. JuJuBeez and I wanted to go in and check it out, but it was closed by the time we left at 6.

So, remember, Recall, Repeal, Revolt~!

I Wish My Birthday Suit Would Shrink in the Dryer

I saw the title of this book and I may have to run out and buy it. A good friend and fellow transcriber, Frog, was laughing with me about getting out there again and dating. But she took care of her birthday suit. She is pretty, 10 years younger than me, and exercises and eats well to stay in shape. Even my daughter, Teddy Bear, says she is hot. When she got on Match.com (where she met her husband), she got lots of winks. I'm afraid to even put a picture up.

Teddy Bear was nagging me though about getting back on Match.com and being serious about dating, but I'm afraid. Frog was teasing that it is hard to get naked again after being married a long time and an even longer time since another man saw you naked. It seems like every man on Match.com exercises 4-5 times a week, loves the outdoors, and is looking for a hiking partner and someone in shape. No curvy girls allowed.

So I guess my birthday suit and I will have to hit the exercise bike and go back on a diet. But I don't hike and going to the gym sounds like torture. Come on, guys, there must be some INDOOR activity you like. Think hard.

This Little Bear Went to Market

Wow. The market closed down 281 points today. I am watching my retirement fund vanish in front of my very eyes. I truly would love to go "John Galt" right now. Atlas Shrugged is here and I wish I knew where Galt's Gulch was. (Click on the graph to see it bigger. Warning: May cause premature gray hair.)

I am sick and tired of the takers. Stop reaching into my pocket because YOUR compassion demands it. Another Boston Tea Party is not even worth it. Who would take over? Another zombie idiotic politician from either party. The Republican Party is Dead. Both parties are only arguing about how fast to eat the corpse of the American taxpayer.

Time to downsize, check out, simplify. If you are productive, if god forbid you are successful and make money, you will be taxed into oblivion and made to feel like shit for succeeding because obviously you succeeded on the backs of the little people. I am a little person, I make a LOT less than $100,000, and I do not want to contribute one more dime than necessary to Arnold, Obama, or whatever politician du jour is in power. Because I pay taxes unlike Obama's cabinet (the compassionate bastards that they are), I am going to see how much I can cut back on earning and spending.

How on earth is this going to end? Markets all over the world are crumbling, not just here.

I am mad as hell right now.

View

I never thought much of living in a house with a view until I moved to the Meadowview area of Temecula in 1996. What's the big deal? I used to feel like Clark Griswold in "Vacation" when he is looking at the Grand Canyon impatiently waiting for his family to ooh and ah and then he wants to go.

We bought at the bottom of the last housing disaster and got a home with a view that I so miss. We bought it for $235,000 and sold it in 2007 . It looked exactly like the homes you see in Williamsburg, the white houses with black shutters. It was 3300 square feet and one of the saddest days of my life was moving out of that home.

The view was combination of meadow and city lights. It was so quiet you could forget you were only a few minutes from the mall and the freeway. There is white rail fencing all over Meadowview (it is horse country) and one section of the fence used to have these tiny burrowing owls. They were so adorable. One would sit on the fence and one would be in the little burrow. There also used to be turkey vultures. I remember the first time I saw one spreading his wings to dry them off after a rain. I almost crashed because he was sitting on the peak of one of the homes that overlooked the meadow. He had his wings completely spread out. It was like the condor exhibit at the zoo, you know where you stand with your arms spread out seeing how your "wing span" compared. They were the ugliest birds but I loved them. For some reason they left and the crows came. Nasty birds. I loved the small gray birds that would fly after them and peck them and harass the heck out of those pesky cawing scavengers.

I hunted for a rental to live in. It was so hard to look at rental homes all jammed together, everybody looking the same. All your backyard fences backed up to other backyard fences. The neighbors next door can look down from their second story balcony right into your yard. Beggars can't be choosers as the saying goes until I found this current house. I live on a corner so I only have one neighbor on one side and they keep to themselves and are nice people, there is no one behind me. Directly across the street are the backs of homes from the next street up, so no neighbors there really. And on the other corner is an elementary school. I love it. The moms drop off and pick up twice a day and are gone usually within 15 minutes. No hanging around, no after school activities.

So this is the view I have now out my back windows. No city lights but it is green and quiet. You can hear the coyotes hunting and we had a bobcat or mountain lion (nobody was sure) at the school across the street one day. Mmmm, that is a story for another post because it was a comedy of errors every way you sliced it.

I am going house hunting in the new few months (assuming I still have work) and I pray that I can find one in my price range with a view. I think we are headed for the bottom of the housing market in the next year here or so (another wave of foreclosures is in front of us) and maybe I can find something special.

Magical Mystery Tour

(Jaced.com Lateral Action blog)

Do you have a muse? Where does creativity come from? Does it "come" from somewhere outside yourself? Have you ever "created" something that seems to move your mind, your hand, your eye that when you are done you wonder where did that come from? I am not an artist. Pencil to paper to draw something has always seemed like magic. My ex-sister-in-law is an artist. She worked in animation at Disney and Don Bluth for years. My reaction to watching her work almost seems primitive. Where does that gift come from? Is there a "genius" inspiring her, taking her over, something you can call upon to help you? Can creativity come from hard work, from practicing some particular craft? Will a "genius" come along when you slog along perfecting a craft.

I remember one day, still living at home with my family, and I was in college. I was playing with water colors that I had purchased for a calligraphy class. (I had to do take something for my fine art requirement.) The professor had asked us to create a poster and "create" a new font. I had seen a beautiful picture of a flower, a large flower overflowing with petals. Because I cannot draw, I did the grid thing. You know, draw a grid over the picture and then copy each little grid to your paper. I remember the feeling of being totally absorbed watching this picture appear on the page. I took out my water colors, sprawled on the floor, and started to "color." Mixing colors, shading, washes. Hours passed and when I was done it was shocking. There was a beautiful flower. Where did it come from? I absolutely loved that feeling of being taken over.

Writers must have a special breed of muse, of creative genius. That magical ability to tell a story, persuade with an essay, create an epic tale. When a writer writes a story that spans many books does the end of the story inspire the beginning? Or is it like a journey to the writer, too? Does the writer start writing and wonder where is this taking me? The Harry Potter stories, Diana Gabaldon "Outlander" series, the Twilight books. When you finish the last book and then go back to re-read them (or am I the only one who has to do that?) and see all the clues and bits that go with the end, it is so much fun to realize what you may have missed the first time round, but does the author create the whole landscape of the book first so that they can plant these clues?

Musicians, composers, singers. Music is a mystery. I can change my mood by the music I listen to. It can bring back memories long buried. It's like music has a special key to the mind, a special way to open you up. If I am madder than hell, I play some loud, very LOUD, thumping music and eventually I calm down and my music choices change, too. (One reason to allow those teenagers of ours to play "their" music loud once in a while.)

Here's to hoping your muse inspires you today.

Fiddley Dee

Do you consider stuffing your lumpy midsection into a girdle as caving into misogyny and against all principles of feminism or is it a great invention? My sister-in-law said she was wearing a girdle the last time I saw her and she wasn't sure that was a good idea because of the muffin top and the incipient camel toe. I did not notice either one although I did not look too carefully for the latter.

Four years ago when my daughter was getting married, a whole herd of us women went dress shopping. Is there anything worse than shopping for a mother-of-the-bride dress? What is it with the long skirts and jackets? I am a sucker for sequins and sparkles but my daughter said no. I had planned on losing weight, but, well, you know how that goes. It was asking a lot to plan a wedding AND lose weight. I figured I might have to resort to a girdle but I was fighting it tooth and nail.

It was my mother and sister and daughters and aunts trying on dresses and girdles. My sister said there was no way she was going without a girdle so I let her be the guinea pig. I hate panty hose, I could not imagine wearing a girdle all day and all night. I figured the compression of all that fat had to be unhealthy in the long run. My sister picked a pretty black corset. We all were trying dresses on or sitting around giving bad advice on what to wear. Don't ever ask me; I have marginal taste at best. We could hear loud breathing and then finally a loud snort.

"Does it fit?" There was way too much laughter going on the dressing room to think this had a good outcome. "Yeah, it fits."

"How does it look?" Long silence.

"Well, if you want to look like a sausage this is the thing. It's pushing all the fat out the top which makes my boobs look weird and what's left is coming out the bottom."

Naive person that I am, I asked wasn't that the point of a girdle, to contain all the fat. She snorted and said the fat has to go SOMEWHERE.

I wore a loose dress on the day of the wedding. I'm no fool.

Happy First Birthday Z~!

My incredible, darling, zany grandson turned ONE today~! You could not have ordered a more beautiful day in Temecula. Bright blue skies, perfect temperature, and lots of family and friends.

I got to see friends of my daughters that I have not seen in a long time. It is hard for me to believe that they are turning 25 this year. They are so young and so fun to be around. I have such memories of the girls dressing for prom, sleep overs, dinners, and parties. It is so hard when you are in the moment to stop and realize how quickly it goes. My brothers, my two incredible sister-in-laws, and my nephews came up from San Diego to help celebrate. Little Z was an angel and only one had one melt down all day. He has LOTS of aunts and uncles and cousins and a cousin to be
in May, so he was easily distracted.

I look at these pictures and I can still see his mom at 1. I think they even had the same amount of hair at this age. I can still see her chubby cheeks, we even called her "Chubby Cheekers." I just want to go back and kiss and hug that little face.

One year! Grandchildren are the best and I can't wait for all my friends to become grandmas and grandpas so we can have a bragging war. Of course, I win by default. So, bring on the Brag Books.

They Want to Tax What?!!

Charles Durning in the "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas."

HAHAHA. How hard up for money do you think they are? Creative writing, I mean law writing, is going at on our state legislatures. They are floating ideas that really should be on the Colbert show or Jon Stewart.

The New York Times had an article on Struggling States to Look at Unorthodox Taxes. One of our very own, California Assemblyman Tom Ammiano wants to tax pot. You know, the illegal stuff. He says, and I quote, "We're all jonesing for money, and there's this enormous industry out there." I don't know where to begin on the whole pathetic quote. Jonesing? Puhleeze. Does he have a stash somewhere? Rolling papers? Bong and hookah pipe in his top desk drawer? Enormous industry? I wonder how enormous it would be once it is legal? I am for legalizing pot but not because I look at it as a revenue source but because it is insane to put people in jail for smoking pot. Maybe this goes along with the snack tax and the alcohol tax and fast food tax. When you get the munchies, you can now pay double the tax.

Nevada wants to tax brothels "based on the amount of activities." BWAHAHAHA. Oh my god. I want to help write those new tax laws. How much for the missionary position? What if she just lies there like a dead fish? No tax at all? Maybe she owes him money? What if they employ, you know, toys? Lots of "activity" there, man.

Why, oh why, don't they ever stop spending money? Even the new budget from Obama has NEW spending, increased spending. Most people I know would be happy just to have the same amount of money to spend as they had the year before much less get more money.

My grandson turns one today. Perhaps another tea party is in the making when he finds out what we have obligated him to pay to pay off crooks and incompetents.