Oh Those Toes

Finally, a webpage to commemorate Camel Toes. Words cannot describe this hilarious site, stolen from my pal Raven.

How Could I Forget to Mention This?

Last weekend, murderer O.J. Simpson was in town to help his buddy open horse racing season at the Retama Polo Center. The center is owned by one of his neighbors in Florida who thought O.J. might be a welcome addition to opening day.
The murderer and his pals had dinner at Paesano's on the Riverwalk, where many locals reminded him quite vocally he was a murderer unwelcome in this town. One woman was so insistent, they threatened to call the police *on her* for disturbing the peace. Ha!
I would have walked out had I been dining there.
I guess his search for the "true killer" of Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman will extend to every race track, golf course and luxury restaurant on Earth until he finds the culprit.

Blog Side Salad™

Is this in bad taste?
I bought some daddy-style duds for that 60's party at Goodwill, but I ended up wearing neither. Can I take them back and get a refund on my $7.99, or would that make me a colossally cheap, uncharitable bitch?

Oy vey, Tracy has flipped her wig about the Catholic church. I thought I was vocal about it, she's over there like Linda Blair with her head turning 360º.

Cris, my Vegas traveling companion dropped by today. She's excited about the trip, but being the stoic psychologist she is, she has difficulty expressing exuberance. She fondled the itinerary longer than I thought necessary, so that's how I could tell she was hyped. Whoopie, only three days to go.

My Kitten Is Gone

On August 10, 2001, James was born. Separated from his feral mama and siblings, he was found about three days later under a bush in Yuma, Arizona, screaming his fuzzy little head off.
My friend Katie rescued him, took him to a vet to get his runny little eye fixed, fed him infant kitten formula, babied him, started talking to me about him and sending photos. We thought he was a she at first.
By September, he was mine.
Now he's a full grown tomcat. He's all muscle, weighing in at around 15 pounds and counting.
Unlike his much older brother Bart, James is an acrobat. No distance is too far to leap, no fear in tackling any challenge.
When I am at my desk, he jumps on the back of my chair, despite the fact that it's only 3" wide. When I am asleep, he jumps on my chest, despite the fact that it scares the shit out of me and he gets a stern lecture.
When he wants me to wake up, he puts his pink, wet nose on mine and meows.
When company comes over, he strolls up and down them like he owns them.
He comes when I whistle, when he feels like it.
I am in love with him, bad habits and all.
But soon his baby pictures will come down from the top of my blog and be replaced with a more appropriate graphic. He's not a baby anymore.
My baby kitten is gone, and I miss him.

Ahhh, Sweet Justice!

This case really pissed us off in San Antonio and it's finally done.
I hope his pervert ass becomes well-worn in prison.

Ex-TV anchor pleads guilty in child porn case

SAN ANTONIO (Reuters) - A former San Antonio television news anchor arrested after police said he bought child pornography from a prostitute between newscasts pleaded guilty Monday and began serving a five-year prison term.

Gerry Grant, 43, pleaded guilty to buying four photos depicting children in sexual situations from a prostitute who helped police set up a sting on Oct. 16, 2000.

He had just finished anchoring the 6 p.m. newscast at ABC affiliate KSAT-TV and was arrested immediately after he left the hotel where he met the prostitute.

"I regret the horrible, stupid things I did," Grant told State District Judge Juanita Vasquez-Gardner after pleading guilty.

Grant had been slated to begin his trial Monday. According to court documents, prosecutors had said they would play in court audiotapes of him allegedly telling the prostitute about having "violent sex" with a child in Mexico.

He had faced up to 10 years in prison if convicted of possession of child pornography.

KSAT suspended Grant after his arrest and did not renew his contract. He had been working as a counter man at a bakery, but lost that job after customers complained.

Little Old Lady Blues

My Mom will be 90 in January, and it's gotten to the point where she needs an assisted living situation.
My older sister who lives next door to Mom was going crazy with her little routines, like Mom calling her at 3 a.m. to see what she was doing, etc.
So we found her a lovely retirement community on the campus of a beautiful Catholic university here in San Antonio.
As she ages, Mom is suddenly Catholic again, so she's delighted at the prospect of having daily mass in a chapel about 30 feet from her apartment, and little old retired Irish nuns all over the place.
The only problem is my brother. He's 10 years older than me, but he's a big mama's baby and he's having separation anxiety, so he's dragging his heels.
It's amazing that at our age, my siblings and I can still be so cranky and hard headed when it comes to group decisions.
Anyway, Wednesday we are allegedly all getting together to tour the facility.
If my brother balks, I have decided to just tackle him to the ground and pummel him.
Hell, he's 59, I think I can take him.

Ouch, it's Sunday

The 60's party last night must have been great because I didn't get home until 3 a.m.
It was very odd to be at a party where half the guests were adults and teens in the 60's and the other half were born in the 70's and 80's.
What was really weird was that some people at the party kept making references to things going on in my life, and I realized it was because they read my blog.
Clay and Robert, a totally charming gay couple, won the best costume prize.
Clay was dressed as the perfect scroungy hippy, with the worst, rattiest bell bottom jeans ever. Robert, his 6'8" African American lover, came dressed in a judge's robes with a white curly wig like British barristers wear. He was doing the judge bit from "Laugh In."
Then Marianne, a conservative, rather uptight lady who taught many of us at the party reporting and feature writing in college, showed up on a 60's op-art mini dress and pageboy wig, looking very go go girl. She brought her 18-year-old daughter with her, and she looked like 60's model Jean Shrimpton. Fabulous! When Marianne did the pony during the judging contest, we all freaked out. They won the other grand prize.
With a bunch of snoopy reporters and newspeople at the party, the gossip got juicier as the liquor bottles started to empty.
The best part was, it wasn't that hot outside last night. There was a nice breeze and the giant patchouli incense sticks they had stuck into the ground every 10 feel kept the bugs away.
And there was no rap music.

Jonesing for Las Vegas

If my blogs seem distracted lately, it's because this time next week I'll be at my spiritual Mecca, Las Vegas.
Cris, my lovely ex and sister of reblog contributor BigBoy in PDX, and I have been plotting our strategy on visiting The Holy Land.
No checked luggage. Carryon bags will include minimal clothing and toiletries.
Slots: Two coin maximum. She wants progressives only. Dollars and quarters only, no filthy nickels.
Meals: No time for many sit down meals, just a few quick slabs of prime rib, then back to the action.
Sightseeing trips: Please, it's too fucking hot. Big dam, big canyon, yeah, yeah, seen 'em already.
Shows: No thanks.
Table games: No, they scare me.
Any additional tips or ideas welcome.

With a Name Like Smucker's...

Smucker's has a new product, frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off and the edges sealed.
You throw one in the kid's lunchbox and by noon it's thawed.
I am not a parent, but this sounds like a really crappy idea to me.
If a parent's schedule doesn't allow enough time to make their kid a fucking PB & J sandwich, some priorities need to be switched around.

This weekend is "no state tax" weekend for people shopping for back to school clothes and shoes. It's virtually the only good idea to come from the Bush the Governor era.
Stores will be glutted with parents and unruly children all weekend. I'd rather pay double state tax than mingle in all that whining and kid-noise. But it is a good deal for the breeders.

I think they should have state-tax-free queer weekend. No kids allowed- just queers.
I'd hang out at Home Depot, Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware all day. Yum.

Blog Side Salad

It's too hot to think.
I had to run some errands around 2 p.m. today and the temp was only 91º but something called a heat index shoved it up to 97º. Now I know why they sell Slushies in 44 ounce sizes.
I am still pondering my costume for the 60's party Saturday night.
A denim work shirt and jeans is just too hot.
I have come up with this. Plaid shorts, a white T-shirt, black oxford shoes and black, executive length men's socks.
Yep, I am going as my Dad, in his beachwear.
At least I'll be cool.