...if I were born in a Muslim culture and in the unlikely event I lived to adulthood [mouthy broad that I am], I think I'd be very easy to talk into killing myself.
Not saying I don't blame those bitches in Russia who acted in collusion with their oppressors and took out a bunch of people with them, but I'm saying I can understand what a bleak and hopeless life they must have lived. Too bad they didn't just take their trainers out with them.
Just then, a call came in on my line, preventing me from responding. Didn't someone make a film portraying the assassination of GWB while he was president? Didn't a senator say he hoped Clarence Thomas dies early? It's funny how meanness only gets noticed by some people when conservatives are the ones deploying it.
I went to Sarah's Facebook page last night and I didn't see the crosshairs thingie. *shrug*
Just when you think it's a hot mess and beyond retrieval, they all corral and lock steps. This may be too cerebral for even my own arty musical pretenses, but I likeses it, anyhoo...
But, seriously, the dueling banjos bit was magnificent.
jeepers. Has one quarter of this year really gone already???
Here's a better idea - why doesn't the gubmint just take the uninsurable people under its wing already (oh, it already has???) and just pay for those pipples' healthcare, and then let the rest of us have the freedom to, oh, say, choose an employer based on the perquisites of salary and features like health care insurance?
In truth, we call things insurance, but there is indeed no true comfort and no ultimate safety in this lifetime. We all do - I'm counting myself here - think of our possessions as our own, but from my most common possessions like dirty socks, right up to my jewelry and my fabulous Beetlejuice bookcase, -- we are merely caretakers of the things we own here. One by one, we'll shuffle off this mortal coil and leave all our fabulous, precious, wonderful stuff to be dispersed by someone else.
If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything. If you don't give a fig about making room in your finances for your own healthcare, why should your neighbor be forced to make concessions to indulge your inanity?
No amount of public buttressing of private lives will fix the mess that so many make for themselves.
Curmudgeon sounds like something you'd find on a tray of sweets when you go round a little old English lady's house for tea, dunnit?
I promise, lots of fun stuff going on, and more fluff coming soon. :)
The show is meant to be a travelogue of Sarah Palin's Alaska, but I'm cynical about the media's willingness or likelihood to show her as an intelligent person. I also would prefer she kept narrowly focused on things political, rather than currying a hollywood-type persona.
The cockeyed optimist in me wants to think that she can turn around a lot of people's preconceived notions about her as empty-headed, as abetted by the likes of SNL. I suppose we shall see...
This very talented guy plays 22 tv show themes in one big delicious mashup. Wow!
Very nice guitar technique.
This made me laugh and laugh.
...not simply fondue cheese, I concurd udderly.
My blog has been here lo, these eight years and I started this as an occasional record of what was going through my head at the moment. I wasn't working, and felt the need to jolt my creativity in some way, and writing seemed a good idea. As promised on the banner, there's plenty of talk about my dogs (yes, now the plural, and I know I should update the little thingie, but for now I'll deal with it), my perhaps excessive interest in shoes, and just whatever is generally running through my brain.
Perhaps it's my tendency to lean toward belly button fluff that has largely spared me trollery, but I will say this. There has only been one time I have removed a comment and that was because the poster realized he'd erred in making a personal attack on a fellow commenter, and was duly contrite about having said rude, ill-considered things to that commenter and requested that I unpublish his comment.
Someone recently has made pointed comments on my blog of a political nature , but also felt the need to question the intelligence of another commenter. The irony of this is that I personally know the original commenter, and am confident the flamer would quickly have his hide hanging on their shed wall, should they so choose. This person has political opinions which differ from my own, and I gnerally don't have a problem posting their opinions, however wrong they be. If I make a post and someone comments to agree with me, and then you feel the need to question the intelligence of the concurring commenter, well, what does it say about your intelligence that you come to my blog?
I have not intentionally moderated comments out in the past, but that doesn't mean I won't reject them in the future. Stick to the point and keep it nice if you want to play here.
Dunno what it's about, but the song and the video make me grin. :D
So chin up, you sons of bitches. Walk tall. Be proud, not weary. We are made bigger by big challenges. Rehearse your arguments, prepare your lists of legislators for the fall, get ready to volunteer for the correct candidate and oppose the traitors. Flood the papers and blogs with letters and posts and comments, let nobody forget who inflicted this upon us. Load your magazines and sharpen your knives.
Go tell it. I called someone in D.C. Monday. I'll probably do it again today. And tomorrow. Hell. I've got unlimited minutes and I feel like they need to hear what I really think of their unconstitutional acts.
These rubber watches from Nooka turn the ancient art of time keeping on its august head. You tell teh hour by how many of the 12 dots are darkened, and the minute by the little horizontal bar on the bottom. I think the numeral is for the date.
what would happen if you have wiring or plumbing issues? Would it be a nightmare to fix?
I have to say that if the federal government can't compensate providers in a plan as relatively small-scale as Medicaid, how can they claim with a straight face that they can manage to compensate all providers (and fairly at that) and provide all health care services for all Americans?
The suggestion that the US government is able or fit to run a massive health care system for all American citizens is a load of steaming, heap-high crap. They need to do a better job running Medicare and Medicaid before they run around claiming they have the wherewithal to run everyone else's healthcare. As far as I can see, they're making a right pig's ear of the responsibility they already have.
Here for $29 you can submit your photo and order a cutout of yourself or loved ones. I think teh puppehs will have to be immortalized thusly.
Labels: stuff we love
send me back
I can't work, I can't achieve
send me back.
Open the till
refund the change you said would do me good
refund the cost
you said you're cheap but you're too much
Quite. True GO4 were speaking of things on a more personal level, but considering how Obama's Final Solution* for healthcare is being rammed down our throats without the courtesy of dinner and a movie, the metaphor fits.
Couldn't find a clip of the original with audio to do it justice, so here's The Hot Rats with their cover and interesting video of same:
*not to liken Obama to A. Hitler: Hitler wrote his own book.
Pie are not square. Pie are round.
Cornbread are square.
Papers in hand, I sashayed over to her office, poked my head in, waited for her to get off the phone. She turned her withering gaze upon me and I held up the papers and said "I have a question." Says she "you mean you didn't come all the way over here just to see me?" Given the obvious drollery of this comment, I decided to play along. "Actually, I secretly longed for an excuse to come here." She said "that is so disgusting. I feel sick."
I laid my palm on my heart, knitted my brow and dropped a stitch, then said "you wound me, madam."
She picked up the phone and called my boss. (remember the boss I give surprise gifts to from her beloved Edward? Yes, her. Love her. She's fab.) I heard my boss' voice from the other end of the phone and Jane said "uh, your girl over here said she's been secretly longing to come and see me and I started gagging. Tell your girl why I'm gagging." She handed the phone to me.
When she had recovered from laughing, my boss said "Jane is violently homophobic."
Um. I didn't know that me playing along with what SHE started implied that I was making a play for her.
Mind you, she IS a very attractive woman, but, uh, she's not my type.
Later, my boss was laughing to me about the whole sordid encounter, because my she knows that I was bantering --like you do-- and had no romantic designs on Jane. Boss Lady thought this was tremendously funny, because we work in a place which celebrates diversity. As we talked, a couple other sups who shared in Boss Lady's amusment came along and joined in the merriment. One person speculated that I may have offended Jane by coming to her office looking as good as I did that day. *hee!* I said that though I would never set my cap at Jane, she is a very sexy woman, and I always envisioned her in a Nurse Ratched get-up with the starched cap and white stockings ever garlanded with the severe, humourless expression. This set them off on new peals of laughter.
Boss said that made the whole thing even better, and that she was going to tell all the other supervisors. I said "no! don't! Then she'll really be laying for me." At that point, I stopped digging and walked away.
I'm so glad I didn't mention the bit about the leather nun outfit. ;P
They're through being cool. Still love the flowerpot hats.
The puppies have had a nice feather pillow in their basket in the kitchen for about 6 months. Every so often I'd wash the cover and the pillow separately, but generally they've seemed to appreciate the pillow as something more than just a chew-toy.
Until Monday. I came home from work to find the pillow disemboweled and feathers feathers everywhere.
Bad puppies. Bad, bad things.
So no more feather pillows for naughty pups.
Still, I can't stay mad at them for long, for some reason.
Prank calls can be so tacky, but this one is hilarity con carne.
This is a commercial for a sportswear label, but you get a good idea of tanker wave surfing. Good stuff. Also, if you have a little more time, you don't have to be a surfer to appreciate the superb surfing film Step Into Liquid.
Several months ago, after applying and interviewing for several positions with local public offices, an imminently qualified candidate was offered a final interview for one of two positions in the local administrative offices. She was told she was one of two candidates who would be hired, but all that remained was that she have a final interview with local Big Kahuna who would decide which applicant was assigned which position. Naturally, she was very happy to hear this news, but did keep her powder dry. Many a slip, and all that...
Well, after Big Kahuna canceled one interview and stood her up on two others (as he was the very nadir of professional irresponsibility) he at last granted her an audience and did not ask her a single question about her qualifications for the position. He at last alluded to brass tacks and said "I think there's a place for you here. If not this one, I hope you'll keep applying, because we could use you."
After the interview, the silly dreamer called the person who scheduled the appointment and said "that didn't sound like I have one of those two positions." The lady at the office said "well, BK had some applications at the last minute."
Translation: Big Kahuna had a Big Political Race coming up on March 2, and someone important probably had a niece or grandkid or his wife's cousin's stepson's girlfriend Mabel needed work, so, Our Fair Lady did not get said job. The delicious bit of this is that in order to run for this big-flipping-deal job, Big Kahuna had to step down from his other elected position.
Well, Big Kahuna had his big night on Tuesday night, and the voters of the county informed him that, well, no, actually, they don't want to take him to the Prom. However, I'm sure they feel there's a place for him there and they hope he'll keep applying, because they could use him.
I hear there's a vacant dogcatcher position.
Labels: neener neener neener
I am not ashamed to say that I have enough underwear that I could wear a different pair daily for more than a month without having to do laundry and without having to wear dirties. Perhaps two months, even. Anyway, nothing wrong with that. I think nothing cures the ills of one's ho-hum life like going to Nordstrom Rack and spending about $100 bucks on fabulous bloomers that would have originally cost about $500, or so. I actually do this a time or two a year. Anything to keep the back 40 happy, right?
Anyhoo. I've been pretty busy lately and I haven't, well, I haven't been keeping up with the laundry by a long shot. I'm keeping the frequent flier garments clean, and clean towels, but only just. Underwear, well I'll just say I've nearly run through the drawers drawer. Monday I pulled out an old favorite pair. Sumptuous, nudie-pink, a little sparkly, these were always the pretty/dressy go-to panties. Well, Monday, I pulled them on and they weren't quite the same, but I was bleary-eyed and not thinking about it too much. hmmm. Okay.
Got to work and sat at my computer. My jeans were cut below the waist, and my sweater rode up a bit and it felt strange. I reached back and felt, oh, 3 or 4 inches of panty sticking up over the waist of the jeans. And they were wrinkly/baggy. Egad! I've lost weight, but didn't realize how much I'd lost since those were the sumptuously perfect panties.
Naturally, I pulled out my little knife. From the cube catty-corner to me, I heard a shriek that told me I wasn't supposed to have a knife there, and then she started laughing at the five miles of panty flapping in the wind.
Here's where the story really starts. Next to her and directly across is a lovely lady who's been a great coworker. She's really tiny, and asked me what size panty I wore. I thought this was odd, but then again- we are pretty casual - so I told her and she said she'd lost some weight and had some nice underwear if I would like to have them.
What do you say to that? I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of hand-me-down undies, actually. I confess when I occupied lofts in the industrial nethers of Dallas, I knew bums went through our garbage on a regular basis, and I dreaded the thought of seeing my manky old undies festooned outside the slick-with-filth dungarees of some insane homeless person, or on their head, or-- who knew what a crazy person would do? Anyway, before throwing away old panties, I would pretty much cut them into 3 pieces so they would panty no more forever. THAT in a nutshell tells pretty much how I feel about recycled underwear. Unless we're talking about a vintage slip or brassiere, I find the thought of using someone else's underthings for my own to be less than appealing.
So-- how to respond? The lady across the cube was being kind and generous. I said "that'd be great!" and inside I was blanching at the thought. Then I thought maybe she would forget. I made my rounds at work and came back to my desk before lunch, and the lady across from me had already gone to lunch.
I came back from lunch to find a neatly tied plastic bag full of panties on my chair.
Location: Elsewhere, Texas, USA
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Sunday, Puppy Sunday: rubbish bin edition
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