The Horny Boys of Survivor Part II
• Rob Cesternino, Home: Wantagh, NY. Age: 24 Job: Computer projects coordinator. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Magic eight ball. The token dork, Rob came unglued when the girls of the menses tribe flirted with him. His magic eight ball is magic only in that it answers in the affirmative who are the biggest morons in camp Tampaxi. His negotiation skills are wearing thin, because even these guys will eventually see through his goofy Opie of Mayberry routine.
• Roger Sexton, Home: Valencia, CA. Age: 56. Job: Vice president of a construction company. Status: Married. Luxury Item: Dog tags. This old macho guy was really good at directing the shelter building and barking out orders to the young, resentful bucks. His drill sergeant personality is pissing off all the pretty boys, so he'd better watch his firm but wrinkly ass.
• Matthew Von Ertfelda, Home: Washington, D.C. Age: 33. Job: Restaurant designer. Status: Single. Luxury Item: High school wrestling jacket. This guy is sneaky as hell. He's secretive, manipulative and probably lethal if cornered. He speaks fluent Chinese, which served to mesmerize poor Daniel into thinking he had an ally. If any of the other guys drop their keys, they better kick them to their cars, because bending over would be a bad idea with this dude. I have him figured for either a cover CIA operative or a butch queen.
• Alex Bell, Home: Los Angeles, CA. Age: 32 Job: Triathlon coach. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Triathlon '"finisher" medal. This guy is a dead ringer for Jeff Probst. He's very cute, has a winning personality and the other guys seem to like him. I am picking Alex as most likely to succeed in the men's tribe. That ain't saying much, but Alex is a winner.
Friday, February 28, 2003
The Horny Boys of Survivor: Part I
Having watched the men make spectacles of themselves fawning over the cute chicks from the Jabberjaws tribe, I'm thinking they are 1 and 4 in the challenges for a reason.
Here's a rundown on the testosterone-laden Tampaxi tribe.
† Ryan Aiken, Home: Ellicott City, MD. Age: 24 Job: Model and actor. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Baseball bat and ball. The first voted off, Ryan was a cute but creepy little instigator.
• Dave Johnson, Home: Pasadena, CA. Age: 23 Job: Rocket scientist. Status: Single.
Luxury Item: Sketchbook and pencil. Dave is the Russell Crowe type in looks, but I have to wonder about a 23-year-old who calls himself a rocket scientist. At age 23, I'm thinking a rookie scientist, maybe. Boasting aside, he's a pretty level headed guy and liable to hang around for a while.
† Daniel Lue, Home: Houston, TX Age: 27 .Job: Tax accountant. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Magnetic rings. The second male voted off, Daniel had a crunchy outside and a creamy filling. Make that cream puff filling. May his malaria symptoms go into remission soon. Buh bye!
• Butch Lockley, Home: Olney, IL. Age: 50. Job: Principal. Status: Married. Luxury Item: School banner. The only butch thing about this dude is his name. He's they type who hides his ears and says, "Oh, golly gee" when the younger tribesmen are loudly lusting over the tribe cuties across the river. He's the token weenie.
Having watched the men make spectacles of themselves fawning over the cute chicks from the Jabberjaws tribe, I'm thinking they are 1 and 4 in the challenges for a reason.
Here's a rundown on the testosterone-laden Tampaxi tribe.
† Ryan Aiken, Home: Ellicott City, MD. Age: 24 Job: Model and actor. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Baseball bat and ball. The first voted off, Ryan was a cute but creepy little instigator.
• Dave Johnson, Home: Pasadena, CA. Age: 23 Job: Rocket scientist. Status: Single.
Luxury Item: Sketchbook and pencil. Dave is the Russell Crowe type in looks, but I have to wonder about a 23-year-old who calls himself a rocket scientist. At age 23, I'm thinking a rookie scientist, maybe. Boasting aside, he's a pretty level headed guy and liable to hang around for a while.
† Daniel Lue, Home: Houston, TX Age: 27 .Job: Tax accountant. Status: Single. Luxury Item: Magnetic rings. The second male voted off, Daniel had a crunchy outside and a creamy filling. Make that cream puff filling. May his malaria symptoms go into remission soon. Buh bye!
• Butch Lockley, Home: Olney, IL. Age: 50. Job: Principal. Status: Married. Luxury Item: School banner. The only butch thing about this dude is his name. He's they type who hides his ears and says, "Oh, golly gee" when the younger tribesmen are loudly lusting over the tribe cuties across the river. He's the token weenie.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
Survivor Picks
I think Daniel will be the second guy voted off. Between his pitiful balance beam crawl and the malaria we all know he caught, he needs to get back to his accounting job and pretend this ordeal never happened. Poor schmuck, packaged like beefcake and stuffed with tofu.
For the women, I have two picks, either Jeanne the hard-boiled Yankee or Jenna the swimsuit modeling bitch. I was tempted to pick JoAnna, who hates people to "interject negatively into her conversations," but she's just starting to alienate people, so she's got a few days left.
I think Daniel will be the second guy voted off. Between his pitiful balance beam crawl and the malaria we all know he caught, he needs to get back to his accounting job and pretend this ordeal never happened. Poor schmuck, packaged like beefcake and stuffed with tofu.
For the women, I have two picks, either Jeanne the hard-boiled Yankee or Jenna the swimsuit modeling bitch. I was tempted to pick JoAnna, who hates people to "interject negatively into her conversations," but she's just starting to alienate people, so she's got a few days left.
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
Homage to Jodieeee
Ms. No Comments/Because I Say So Jodi recently blogged about words and phrases she hated. I am stealing her idea.
I may have done a version of this in past blogs but I have no short term memory and no patience to sift through the archives.
Copacetic: as in "everything is copacetic." Why use that word when 'fine' is so much clearer?
Utilize: "use" works just fine. Utilize does not make using something more important.
Irregardless: should be a class C misdemeanor to use this word.
Fustrated: it's frustrated, silly.
Should of: this phrase makes me want to slap someone. It's "should have," damn it.
Affect: means "to influence." It's a verb.
Effect: means a result. It's a noun. Or a verb when it means "to bring about."
Suppose to: It's supposeD to, damn it.
Towards: no 's' required. Towards makes me develop a nervous tic.
Anyways: Please! No s required!
I could care less: if you 'could' care less, then you care at least little.
Chester drawers. Oy.
Fuckin' A: what's that supposed to mean, anyway?
Invaluable: hey, if it's valuable, you can just say so, we don't mind.
Have I missed any?
Ms. No Comments/Because I Say So Jodi recently blogged about words and phrases she hated. I am stealing her idea.
I may have done a version of this in past blogs but I have no short term memory and no patience to sift through the archives.
Copacetic: as in "everything is copacetic." Why use that word when 'fine' is so much clearer?
Utilize: "use" works just fine. Utilize does not make using something more important.
Irregardless: should be a class C misdemeanor to use this word.
Fustrated: it's frustrated, silly.
Should of: this phrase makes me want to slap someone. It's "should have," damn it.
Affect: means "to influence." It's a verb.
Effect: means a result. It's a noun. Or a verb when it means "to bring about."
Suppose to: It's supposeD to, damn it.
Towards: no 's' required. Towards makes me develop a nervous tic.
Anyways: Please! No s required!
I could care less: if you 'could' care less, then you care at least little.
Chester drawers. Oy.
Fuckin' A: what's that supposed to mean, anyway?
Invaluable: hey, if it's valuable, you can just say so, we don't mind.
Have I missed any?
Constitutional Rights? Wrong.
Oh no. The Right Wing has scored a major victory over anti abortionist extremists via the Supreme Court, the folks who brought you appointed resident George W. Bush.
Read this AP clip:
WASHINGTON (Feb. 26) - The Supreme Court ruled Wednesday that federal racketeering and extortion laws were improperly used to punish aggressive anti-abortion protesters, lifting a nationwide injunction that barred people from interfering with clinic business...
...The court's ruling is a victory for Operation Rescue, anti-abortion leader Joseph Scheidler and others who were ordered to pay damages to abortion clinics and were barred from interfering with their businesses for 10 years. The ruling ends that injunction."
War is one thing, the abysmal economy is another. But if Dubya and his Right Wing buddies think they are going to chip away at Roe vs. Wade until abortion is no longer a woman's legal choice, they will have a civil war on their hands.
Little by little this administration is stripping away our rights. Under the guise of national security they have been pushing to have access to our every move. Nothing we do will be safe from the government's prying eyes and ears.
If we protest we'll be thought to be anti-American, subversive or even a terrorist.
Sooner or later this type of government interference will trickle down and effect even those who currently applaud and support Bush and his administration. By then will it be too late for the lemmings to join a protest?
This all reminds me of a piece written by Pastor Martin Niemoeller:
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
Oh no. The Right Wing has scored a major victory over anti abortionist extremists via the Supreme Court, the folks who brought you appointed resident George W. Bush.
Read this AP clip:
WASHINGTON (Feb. 26) - The Supreme Court ruled Wednesday that federal racketeering and extortion laws were improperly used to punish aggressive anti-abortion protesters, lifting a nationwide injunction that barred people from interfering with clinic business...
...The court's ruling is a victory for Operation Rescue, anti-abortion leader Joseph Scheidler and others who were ordered to pay damages to abortion clinics and were barred from interfering with their businesses for 10 years. The ruling ends that injunction."
War is one thing, the abysmal economy is another. But if Dubya and his Right Wing buddies think they are going to chip away at Roe vs. Wade until abortion is no longer a woman's legal choice, they will have a civil war on their hands.
Little by little this administration is stripping away our rights. Under the guise of national security they have been pushing to have access to our every move. Nothing we do will be safe from the government's prying eyes and ears.
If we protest we'll be thought to be anti-American, subversive or even a terrorist.
Sooner or later this type of government interference will trickle down and effect even those who currently applaud and support Bush and his administration. By then will it be too late for the lemmings to join a protest?
This all reminds me of a piece written by Pastor Martin Niemoeller:
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
Freezing Freakin' Nutty Weather
San Antonio is closed down today. The whole city is frozen into one big car wreck-causing iceberg. It's 28º outside, with an 18º chill factor.
School is out and workplaces are limiting themselves to essential personnel. No mammo today, I ain't driving two frozen freeways for that.
My cats are in two tightly rolled balls, wedged under the down comforter with no intentions of putting their pink paws on anything solid.
I am making soup today, and baking no-fat cornbread so the oven helps warm the coldest part of my house.
I don't know how you snowbirds handle this shit. This is just wrong. Wrong, I tell you.
San Antonio is closed down today. The whole city is frozen into one big car wreck-causing iceberg. It's 28º outside, with an 18º chill factor.
School is out and workplaces are limiting themselves to essential personnel. No mammo today, I ain't driving two frozen freeways for that.
My cats are in two tightly rolled balls, wedged under the down comforter with no intentions of putting their pink paws on anything solid.
I am making soup today, and baking no-fat cornbread so the oven helps warm the coldest part of my house.
I don't know how you snowbirds handle this shit. This is just wrong. Wrong, I tell you.
a word about eminem
Okay, what's this whigger's problem?
I have been catching him here and there for ages now and I want to know why he's so damn grim.
After the Grammys he was photographed frowning next to a grinning Bruce Springsteen.
Surely his childhood wasn't so bad that's he's not able to crack a grin standing next to The Boss, for chrissakes.
He reminds me of a male Alanis Morrissette. After expressing all that youthful angst and making a few zillion dollars off it, what's to be still so angst ridden about, little fella?
Did someone key your S Class Benz?
And he needs an alter ego called the Real Slim Shady to express his darker moods? The boy is a walking dark mood.
I know he's cracked the mainstream and all, and even Elton John forgave his homophobia and sang a duet with him, but honestly, what's his story?
He just seems like a grouchy little bastard to me.
Okay, what's this whigger's problem?
I have been catching him here and there for ages now and I want to know why he's so damn grim.
After the Grammys he was photographed frowning next to a grinning Bruce Springsteen.
Surely his childhood wasn't so bad that's he's not able to crack a grin standing next to The Boss, for chrissakes.
He reminds me of a male Alanis Morrissette. After expressing all that youthful angst and making a few zillion dollars off it, what's to be still so angst ridden about, little fella?
Did someone key your S Class Benz?
And he needs an alter ego called the Real Slim Shady to express his darker moods? The boy is a walking dark mood.
I know he's cracked the mainstream and all, and even Elton John forgave his homophobia and sang a duet with him, but honestly, what's his story?
He just seems like a grouchy little bastard to me.
Monday, February 24, 2003
Hard to be Hard
I started my morning with good intentions. I showered, got dressed, tested my glucose level (107) made coffee, booted up, read e-mail, went to Barcodie's site to see what the right wing was thinking lately, and then it occurred to me.
I am still in a beach frame of mind and can hardly get it up to argue about what a loose cannon Bush is. Fact is, we made it through Gerald Ford, we dodged the Dan Quayle bullet and we'll make it past this moron's watch, too.
My sweet friend Barcodie is entitled to his opinions, misguided though they may be.
The Smoking Gun
amused me this morning with a story about a Florida priest who used the same AOL account he uses to communicate with parishioners with which to troll for young gay tops to satisfy his more secular urges. Oh well, at least he's not a pedophile.
Winter has reappeared this morning in San Antonio. Forty degrees outside, but I don't care. I got my spring mojo covered over the weekend.
James my kittenish cat apparently developed a new habit while I was away, kitchen counter strolling. He seems not to get that it's not okay and he's not the type who could adjust to corporal punishment after such a gently raised kittenhood. I need to get Cris, a behavioral psychologist, over here to recommend some kind of aversion therapy.
I could spray it with Pet Be Gone but the little bastard likes the aroma of that, judging by the frayed corners of my new loveseat.
Oh well. At least he doesn't know how to open the fridge. Yet.
I started my morning with good intentions. I showered, got dressed, tested my glucose level (107) made coffee, booted up, read e-mail, went to Barcodie's site to see what the right wing was thinking lately, and then it occurred to me.
I am still in a beach frame of mind and can hardly get it up to argue about what a loose cannon Bush is. Fact is, we made it through Gerald Ford, we dodged the Dan Quayle bullet and we'll make it past this moron's watch, too.
My sweet friend Barcodie is entitled to his opinions, misguided though they may be.
The Smoking Gun
amused me this morning with a story about a Florida priest who used the same AOL account he uses to communicate with parishioners with which to troll for young gay tops to satisfy his more secular urges. Oh well, at least he's not a pedophile.
Winter has reappeared this morning in San Antonio. Forty degrees outside, but I don't care. I got my spring mojo covered over the weekend.
James my kittenish cat apparently developed a new habit while I was away, kitchen counter strolling. He seems not to get that it's not okay and he's not the type who could adjust to corporal punishment after such a gently raised kittenhood. I need to get Cris, a behavioral psychologist, over here to recommend some kind of aversion therapy.
I could spray it with Pet Be Gone but the little bastard likes the aroma of that, judging by the frayed corners of my new loveseat.
Oh well. At least he doesn't know how to open the fridge. Yet.
Sunday, February 23, 2003
Norah Jones: A Good Texas Girl
Watching the Grammys. Norah Jones won best pop album. Deservedly so.
Down in Port Aransas over the weekend, I was around a lot of good Texas girls, sun parched waitresses who call everyone darlin', fish store clerks who tell you when and where the fat pink Gulf shrimp you're eyeing were caught, and young Texas girls clerking at the Circle K with that fresh air and sunkissed natural beauty.
Port Aransas is not the world's prettiest beach, but it's a fine beach nonetheless. Smooth, soft sand and gentle waves breaking. They were warm enough to wade in, so I did. Fat old gulls walked the beach, too old to fly much, but still proud enough to strut a little.
I saw pelicans with their bills filled with fish.
I saw ducks flying clumsily over the ferry.
Grass was starting to green. Bluebonnets were popping up. Spring is coming.
I ate some jumbo white shrimp, so fresh they were buttery sweet. All they needed was a quick boil and a little lemon. I made some huge bay scallops with ginger and lime. Tuna steaks of sashimi quality, splashed with a little teriyaki and broiled. Such protein bliss.
And for 72 hours there was no TV, no radio and no computer. No war, no budget, no Bush, no worries.
Nothing but blue skies, salty wind over the waves and sun just barely kissing my face.
I think God might have a condo in Port Aransas, with his stereo playing Norah Jones.
Watching the Grammys. Norah Jones won best pop album. Deservedly so.
Down in Port Aransas over the weekend, I was around a lot of good Texas girls, sun parched waitresses who call everyone darlin', fish store clerks who tell you when and where the fat pink Gulf shrimp you're eyeing were caught, and young Texas girls clerking at the Circle K with that fresh air and sunkissed natural beauty.
Port Aransas is not the world's prettiest beach, but it's a fine beach nonetheless. Smooth, soft sand and gentle waves breaking. They were warm enough to wade in, so I did. Fat old gulls walked the beach, too old to fly much, but still proud enough to strut a little.
I saw pelicans with their bills filled with fish.
I saw ducks flying clumsily over the ferry.
Grass was starting to green. Bluebonnets were popping up. Spring is coming.
I ate some jumbo white shrimp, so fresh they were buttery sweet. All they needed was a quick boil and a little lemon. I made some huge bay scallops with ginger and lime. Tuna steaks of sashimi quality, splashed with a little teriyaki and broiled. Such protein bliss.
And for 72 hours there was no TV, no radio and no computer. No war, no budget, no Bush, no worries.
Nothing but blue skies, salty wind over the waves and sun just barely kissing my face.
I think God might have a condo in Port Aransas, with his stereo playing Norah Jones.
Friday, February 21, 2003
While I'm Away...
I am about to head off to the beach for the weekend. Yeah, yeah I know many of you are knee high in snow, but you'll get even this summer when it's 140º here.
Anyway, I have decided to reluctantly join this century and buy a cell phone. What I need is advice from y'all.
I want to pay $39.99 a month, I want free long distance anytime in Texas and free long distance anywhere in the U.S. on nights and weekends. Who should I go with?
Talk amongst yourselves.
I am about to head off to the beach for the weekend. Yeah, yeah I know many of you are knee high in snow, but you'll get even this summer when it's 140º here.
Anyway, I have decided to reluctantly join this century and buy a cell phone. What I need is advice from y'all.
I want to pay $39.99 a month, I want free long distance anytime in Texas and free long distance anywhere in the U.S. on nights and weekends. Who should I go with?
Talk amongst yourselves.
Thursday, February 20, 2003
Woo! How Delightfully Bitchy!
I was right-Janet was ousted for her general malaise and alleged granola bar smuggling.
But my oh my, were those ladies sharpening their claws tonight!
Since the men weren't featured much beyond the immunity challenge, I will now offer a breakdown on the women, definitely the more lethal of this series.
• Jenna Morasca, Pittsburgh, 21, Swimsuit model, Single, Zeta crown as a luxury item (?)
BITCH! She's mean to the hearing impaired girl, for chrissakes. And a swimsuit model-in Pittsburgh? Big whoop. I'd like to buy her for what she's worth and sell her for what she thinks she's worth.
• Shawna Mitchell, Redwood City, CA, 23, Retail clothing saleswoman, Single, Luxury Item: Soccer ball. Red curls and terminal perkiness. She'll fly under the radar for a while.
B-o-r-i-n-g!
• JoAnna Ward, Orangesburg, SC, 31, Guidance counselor, Single, luxury item: Picture of her mother. Hoo Law! Lordy, Lordy, He is the Savior! Don't be putting that immunity icon in here, he be the devil! And you Ms Deaf Chile, don't be gettin' up in MY face, talk to the hand, the head don't understand, and hallelujah, AMEN! Now shut up or I'll knock you upside the head. Praise Jeee-zus!!
• Heidi Strobel, Eldon, MO, 24, Physical education teacher, Single, Luxury Item: Guitar and songbook. Gym teachers never looked like this in my day. She's an early leader, corn fed, hard working, earnest, diplomatic, bland. Tina meets Elizabeth meets Neleh, by heck!
• Christy Smith, Basalt, CO, 24, Children's adventure guide for the deaf, Single, Luxury Item: Sage. The hearing impaired cutie tends to whine a bit because she feels left out, which she often is. She's pretty outdoorsy though, so she may hang around a while, as long as she finds at least one ally among the popular girls. Natural enemy: Jenna.
• Jeanne Hebert, North Attleboro, MA, 41, director of marketing, married, luxury item: Massage oil. Hard boiled Massachusetts broad, like that truckdriver chick from episode one, except with a little college behind her. She could go either way but she's liable to flip out, so she'll be fun to watch.
• Deena Bennett, Riverside, CA, 36, deputy district attorney, married, luxury item: water balloons. Still a dyke if you ask me, but not so bossy this time. She wanted to throttle Christy but she "was too far above" fisticuffs. Smug.
• Janet. Who cares, she's outta there.
I was right-Janet was ousted for her general malaise and alleged granola bar smuggling.
But my oh my, were those ladies sharpening their claws tonight!
Since the men weren't featured much beyond the immunity challenge, I will now offer a breakdown on the women, definitely the more lethal of this series.
• Jenna Morasca, Pittsburgh, 21, Swimsuit model, Single, Zeta crown as a luxury item (?)
BITCH! She's mean to the hearing impaired girl, for chrissakes. And a swimsuit model-in Pittsburgh? Big whoop. I'd like to buy her for what she's worth and sell her for what she thinks she's worth.
• Shawna Mitchell, Redwood City, CA, 23, Retail clothing saleswoman, Single, Luxury Item: Soccer ball. Red curls and terminal perkiness. She'll fly under the radar for a while.
B-o-r-i-n-g!
• JoAnna Ward, Orangesburg, SC, 31, Guidance counselor, Single, luxury item: Picture of her mother. Hoo Law! Lordy, Lordy, He is the Savior! Don't be putting that immunity icon in here, he be the devil! And you Ms Deaf Chile, don't be gettin' up in MY face, talk to the hand, the head don't understand, and hallelujah, AMEN! Now shut up or I'll knock you upside the head. Praise Jeee-zus!!
• Heidi Strobel, Eldon, MO, 24, Physical education teacher, Single, Luxury Item: Guitar and songbook. Gym teachers never looked like this in my day. She's an early leader, corn fed, hard working, earnest, diplomatic, bland. Tina meets Elizabeth meets Neleh, by heck!
• Christy Smith, Basalt, CO, 24, Children's adventure guide for the deaf, Single, Luxury Item: Sage. The hearing impaired cutie tends to whine a bit because she feels left out, which she often is. She's pretty outdoorsy though, so she may hang around a while, as long as she finds at least one ally among the popular girls. Natural enemy: Jenna.
• Jeanne Hebert, North Attleboro, MA, 41, director of marketing, married, luxury item: Massage oil. Hard boiled Massachusetts broad, like that truckdriver chick from episode one, except with a little college behind her. She could go either way but she's liable to flip out, so she'll be fun to watch.
• Deena Bennett, Riverside, CA, 36, deputy district attorney, married, luxury item: water balloons. Still a dyke if you ask me, but not so bossy this time. She wanted to throttle Christy but she "was too far above" fisticuffs. Smug.
• Janet. Who cares, she's outta there.
Here's How Bad it is
The Rev. Al Sharpton was on Jay Leno last night. As many of you know, he's running for president as a Democrat.
Now, I am no big Sharpton fan, in fact up till last night I thought he was nuts. But he made some observations about the war issue that made me realize something.
If I had to choose between voting to re-elect Bush or to elect Sharpton, I'd vote for the Rev.
The Rev. Al Sharpton was on Jay Leno last night. As many of you know, he's running for president as a Democrat.
Now, I am no big Sharpton fan, in fact up till last night I thought he was nuts. But he made some observations about the war issue that made me realize something.
If I had to choose between voting to re-elect Bush or to elect Sharpton, I'd vote for the Rev.
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Survivor Sneak Peak
You may remember Daniel Lue, the Asian tax accountant from Houston who had some trouble negotiating the perilous log perched 8 inches off the ground last week.
Well, it seems the poor little thing came down with malaria last week, apparently having contracted the disease while taping the show.
This was despite his taking anti-malarial drugs. Lue was diagnosed with the tropical disease last week after suffering for almost two weeks with flu-like symptoms, his mother said.
I believe he's moving into my pick for one of the first ones off the island.
All that brawn and such a delicate nature. Pity.
You may remember Daniel Lue, the Asian tax accountant from Houston who had some trouble negotiating the perilous log perched 8 inches off the ground last week.
Well, it seems the poor little thing came down with malaria last week, apparently having contracted the disease while taping the show.
This was despite his taking anti-malarial drugs. Lue was diagnosed with the tropical disease last week after suffering for almost two weeks with flu-like symptoms, his mother said.
I believe he's moving into my pick for one of the first ones off the island.
All that brawn and such a delicate nature. Pity.
Ordinary Envy
I spent some time reading my bloglinks this morning and I was pleased to read about so many ordinary, daily life stories. Theirs always seem more interesting than mine.
My biggest obsession today is to find my favorite rayon Hawaiian shirt for my weekend trip to the beach.
The weather forecast is calling for cloudy in the 60's down there, but I think it's okay to whip out the beach shirt, just to take the focus off my new piggy-face sunglasses if nothing more.
I read the news today online. Between Mike Tyson's face tattoo, duct tape as the panacea for terrorist attacks and the U.S. trying to persuade Turkey to let our troops launch a war from their front porch, I am pretty disgusted.
Tom Ridge is now surfacing as another Bushian bumbling idiot, with his suggestions for home survival kits. Fact is, if we need to stash water and rations in case of a terrorist attack, we may as well add a few cyanide capsules to our little kits.
My ideal survival kit would be a giant crate containing a new president and cabinet.
Oh, and one more item I heard on NPR the other day.
VA hospitals in major metro areas now have one-year waiting lists for veterans to see a primary care doctor.
With the baby boomer, Vietnam-era vets starting to fall apart and overwhelm the VA's capabilities, has anyone considered what a new generation of Iraqi war veterans might expect in terms of medical care from the VA? Does the term bupkis ring any bells?
I bet Bush hasn't factored THOSE costs into his big fat budget.
I spent some time reading my bloglinks this morning and I was pleased to read about so many ordinary, daily life stories. Theirs always seem more interesting than mine.
My biggest obsession today is to find my favorite rayon Hawaiian shirt for my weekend trip to the beach.
The weather forecast is calling for cloudy in the 60's down there, but I think it's okay to whip out the beach shirt, just to take the focus off my new piggy-face sunglasses if nothing more.
I read the news today online. Between Mike Tyson's face tattoo, duct tape as the panacea for terrorist attacks and the U.S. trying to persuade Turkey to let our troops launch a war from their front porch, I am pretty disgusted.
Tom Ridge is now surfacing as another Bushian bumbling idiot, with his suggestions for home survival kits. Fact is, if we need to stash water and rations in case of a terrorist attack, we may as well add a few cyanide capsules to our little kits.
My ideal survival kit would be a giant crate containing a new president and cabinet.
Oh, and one more item I heard on NPR the other day.
VA hospitals in major metro areas now have one-year waiting lists for veterans to see a primary care doctor.
With the baby boomer, Vietnam-era vets starting to fall apart and overwhelm the VA's capabilities, has anyone considered what a new generation of Iraqi war veterans might expect in terms of medical care from the VA? Does the term bupkis ring any bells?
I bet Bush hasn't factored THOSE costs into his big fat budget.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
A Blogatorial™
CODE ORANGE!! Nah, let's say CODE YELLOW...Maybe CODE PINK?
I love how the Department of Homeland Insecurity has backpedaled on their Orange Alert so we Americans don't panic and deplete the world's supply of duct tape and plastic sheeting.
For Christ's sake, how much longer are we going to have to listen to these overpaid civil service dimwits and their half baked security plans?
I'll tell you what, brothers and sisters, if we get to the stage where we have to rely on duct tape and plastic sheeting to keep from getting poisoned by enemy-launched airborne contaminants, we may as well just bend over and kiss our asses good-bye.
This administration started as a benign joke, sort of like the way we tolerated Nixon stand-in Jerry Ford as a harmless nuisance until we could elect a real president.
That is no longer the case.
This administration has stripped our budget surplus, sailed us into a sea of deficits that will take decades to repair, and now stands to demolish alliances that we've been able to count on for the last half century or more.
We would have to improve our global image to be considered laughingstocks.
What the world is seeing, as judged by recent global protests of epic proportions, is a President who is dangerously ignorant, sickeningly arrogant and putting the entire world in peril with his knee-jerk reactions and suspicious agendas.
Jerry Ford was comically dimwitted, but harmless.
George W. Bush is dumb AND mean spirited.
He's making us all look bad, and as Americans we need to stop tolerating this crap, write to our legislators and demand something be done about Bush before he starts WWIII and plunges us into an economic depression.
CODE ORANGE!! Nah, let's say CODE YELLOW...Maybe CODE PINK?
I love how the Department of Homeland Insecurity has backpedaled on their Orange Alert so we Americans don't panic and deplete the world's supply of duct tape and plastic sheeting.
For Christ's sake, how much longer are we going to have to listen to these overpaid civil service dimwits and their half baked security plans?
I'll tell you what, brothers and sisters, if we get to the stage where we have to rely on duct tape and plastic sheeting to keep from getting poisoned by enemy-launched airborne contaminants, we may as well just bend over and kiss our asses good-bye.
This administration started as a benign joke, sort of like the way we tolerated Nixon stand-in Jerry Ford as a harmless nuisance until we could elect a real president.
That is no longer the case.
This administration has stripped our budget surplus, sailed us into a sea of deficits that will take decades to repair, and now stands to demolish alliances that we've been able to count on for the last half century or more.
We would have to improve our global image to be considered laughingstocks.
What the world is seeing, as judged by recent global protests of epic proportions, is a President who is dangerously ignorant, sickeningly arrogant and putting the entire world in peril with his knee-jerk reactions and suspicious agendas.
Jerry Ford was comically dimwitted, but harmless.
George W. Bush is dumb AND mean spirited.
He's making us all look bad, and as Americans we need to stop tolerating this crap, write to our legislators and demand something be done about Bush before he starts WWIII and plunges us into an economic depression.
Life Is Good
Ahhh, such bliss! I got a new coffeemaker yesterday and my life just got a lot simpler.
Having tolerated my old Braun coffeemaker for far too long, it finally just quit making coffee on Sunday.
San Antonio is a hard water city and the calcium deposits finally fossilized the innards of the old machine. Making half a pot took more than 30 minutes.
Now I can cop a caffeine buzz in three minutes flat.
This new baby has a programming feature so I can set it up the night before. It's like having a mate make morning coffee for me without all the negotiating!
Speaking of mates and relationships, a friend of mine told me about a prayer she reads in her morning meditations.
"Dear God, you know and I know that I have more potential for neurosis in this area than in any other. Please take my attraction, my thoughts and feelings about this person and use them for your purposes. Let this relationship unfold according to your will. Amen."
Makes sense to me. Relationships can be so hard to figure out, so we may as well let God sort out the details.
:)
Ahhh, such bliss! I got a new coffeemaker yesterday and my life just got a lot simpler.
Having tolerated my old Braun coffeemaker for far too long, it finally just quit making coffee on Sunday.
San Antonio is a hard water city and the calcium deposits finally fossilized the innards of the old machine. Making half a pot took more than 30 minutes.
Now I can cop a caffeine buzz in three minutes flat.
This new baby has a programming feature so I can set it up the night before. It's like having a mate make morning coffee for me without all the negotiating!
Speaking of mates and relationships, a friend of mine told me about a prayer she reads in her morning meditations.
"Dear God, you know and I know that I have more potential for neurosis in this area than in any other. Please take my attraction, my thoughts and feelings about this person and use them for your purposes. Let this relationship unfold according to your will. Amen."
Makes sense to me. Relationships can be so hard to figure out, so we may as well let God sort out the details.
:)
Monday, February 17, 2003
Vanity vs. Practicality?
I got some new prescription shades in a size way too small for my round face, banking on the concept that more of the roundness will dissipate once I've shed the 30 more pounds I'm shooting for.
Right now when I wear them I look a little like Percival Dovetonsils, a character made famous by Ernie Kovaks. It's not what I'd call an attractive look.
I tried them on for Anna and she grunted and said, "Huh uh. Too soon for those."
I am considering going back to the opticians and facing Kim, the spitfire manager from South Korea.
Me: Kim, these glasses make me look like a rhino wearing shades.
Kim: I tol you, they too small! I say to get the square one!
Me: Well, you were right. Can I switch these for something more flattering?
Kim: You say you like them when you try them on!
Me: I was wrong.
Kim: Now they used!
Me: I have only worn them maybe 10 minutes total.
Kim: Maybe I make you a deal. Maybe not!
Me: I think you should, after what I spent on my regular glasses.
Kim: I gave you good deal on sungrasses!
Me: But Kim, they are awful.
Kim: I say befo- get the square one!!!
Okay. I think I'll skip going back to face Kim's wrath and just accept the fact that I erred in selecting the frames. I'll just wear them on days when I've had no carbos the day before and suck in my cheeks the whole time.
The thing is, I'm going to the coast next weekend. That means I'll be wearing bad shades and exposing my flounder belly white legs for the first time since last September. Plus I have to wear shoes on the beach now, lest I cut my little diabetes feet and end up with gangrene, then amputation.
So let's review. Bad shades, ghostly white legs and shoes on the beach. Swell.
Meanwhile, I asked Anna if I needed a haircut.
"Color," she said.
"No haircut?" I asked
"No, I'm tired of you having hair too short. Grow it out."
She wants me to look more feminine, I think so she can drag me to more of her straight girl functions without the ladies who lunch wondering what she's doing with a big old dyke.
The other night she gave me this gorgeous Ann Kline raincoat in brown faux suede with a black collar. It was a size 10 and fit except for the top part where the buttons had to strain to stay buttoned. It's all part of her conspiracy to girl me up.
She also said it was time for me to leave the Old Navy men's department behind.
By the time she's done with me, I'll be wearing a fucking crop top, flowered capris and strappy sandals in a color not found in nature.
So she thinks.
I got some new prescription shades in a size way too small for my round face, banking on the concept that more of the roundness will dissipate once I've shed the 30 more pounds I'm shooting for.
Right now when I wear them I look a little like Percival Dovetonsils, a character made famous by Ernie Kovaks. It's not what I'd call an attractive look.
I tried them on for Anna and she grunted and said, "Huh uh. Too soon for those."
I am considering going back to the opticians and facing Kim, the spitfire manager from South Korea.
Me: Kim, these glasses make me look like a rhino wearing shades.
Kim: I tol you, they too small! I say to get the square one!
Me: Well, you were right. Can I switch these for something more flattering?
Kim: You say you like them when you try them on!
Me: I was wrong.
Kim: Now they used!
Me: I have only worn them maybe 10 minutes total.
Kim: Maybe I make you a deal. Maybe not!
Me: I think you should, after what I spent on my regular glasses.
Kim: I gave you good deal on sungrasses!
Me: But Kim, they are awful.
Kim: I say befo- get the square one!!!
Okay. I think I'll skip going back to face Kim's wrath and just accept the fact that I erred in selecting the frames. I'll just wear them on days when I've had no carbos the day before and suck in my cheeks the whole time.
The thing is, I'm going to the coast next weekend. That means I'll be wearing bad shades and exposing my flounder belly white legs for the first time since last September. Plus I have to wear shoes on the beach now, lest I cut my little diabetes feet and end up with gangrene, then amputation.
So let's review. Bad shades, ghostly white legs and shoes on the beach. Swell.
Meanwhile, I asked Anna if I needed a haircut.
"Color," she said.
"No haircut?" I asked
"No, I'm tired of you having hair too short. Grow it out."
She wants me to look more feminine, I think so she can drag me to more of her straight girl functions without the ladies who lunch wondering what she's doing with a big old dyke.
The other night she gave me this gorgeous Ann Kline raincoat in brown faux suede with a black collar. It was a size 10 and fit except for the top part where the buttons had to strain to stay buttoned. It's all part of her conspiracy to girl me up.
She also said it was time for me to leave the Old Navy men's department behind.
By the time she's done with me, I'll be wearing a fucking crop top, flowered capris and strappy sandals in a color not found in nature.
So she thinks.
Sunday, February 16, 2003
Happy Monday Haiku
Winter's over now
At least in Texas it is
My lawn's green and tall
Tired of war talk
For now at least I'm tired
Until next shoe drops
another mammo
scheduled for the twentieth
here we go again
a skunk on my lawn
almost squirted me last week
stinky lil' bastard
James my big kitten
Got in some trouble today
chewing mini blinds
Bart my old kitty
He was good all weekend long
Too old to raise hell
Only four days till
Survivor comes on again
Hope I can hold out
Had chili last night
a low carb, no bean chili
how boring was that?
Mitsubushi ad
with the creepy chick car dance
yuck, it's on again
Winter's over now
At least in Texas it is
My lawn's green and tall
Tired of war talk
For now at least I'm tired
Until next shoe drops
another mammo
scheduled for the twentieth
here we go again
a skunk on my lawn
almost squirted me last week
stinky lil' bastard
James my big kitten
Got in some trouble today
chewing mini blinds
Bart my old kitty
He was good all weekend long
Too old to raise hell
Only four days till
Survivor comes on again
Hope I can hold out
Had chili last night
a low carb, no bean chili
how boring was that?
Mitsubushi ad
with the creepy chick car dance
yuck, it's on again
We spoke, maybe they listened.
"UNITED NATIONS (Feb. 16) - Rattled by an outpouring of anti-war sentiment, the United States and Britain began reworking a draft resolution Saturday to authorize force against Saddam Hussein.
Diplomats, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the final product may be a softer text that does not explicitly call for war."
I know this must disappoint George W., having gotten his way all his life from Exeter to admission to Yale with a C average, but this may finally be a sign of reason prevailing over petulance.
When millions of people around the world are crying out against the war, pausing to listen is a wise decision. Millions of protesters may have a point.
Back in the Vietnam era, politicians spoke ominously of the domino effect. The theory was, if one nation fell to communism, others would follow like tipping dominos.
The domino theory was used repeatedly to justify U.S. involvement in what was basically a civil war in Vietnam. We all know what happened, and we all know that communism is now the last bastion of fools who have led their impoverished countries into economic rubble.
As a former government spin doctor for the Department of Veterans Affairs, my job was to craft phrases designed to mollify the media on matters like Persian Gulf Syndrome.
With the media clamoring for information about the odd, multiple illnesses striking returning Gulf War veterans, I coined the term "you can't rush the science," meaning that we didn't have any answers until all the research was done on the causes of various diseases our vets were developing.
While that was partially true, it was a convenient catch phrase that made it difficult for the media to pressure the VA for answers it had, but did not want to provide.
To wit, the federal government is filled with spin doctors whose job it is to provide catch phrases to justify whatever action that is on their agenda.
That the public falls for so many of them is less a credit to the spin doctors than a reflection of the lemming mentality of our society.
If more people would wake up, look around and judge for themselves what is right and what is wrong, critical reasoning would take the place of slogans and catch phrases designed to mollify the benignant electorate, who settle for pat phrases.
The catch phrase this administration has used, "You're either for us or against us," is but one example. It precludes the possibility that they could be wrong and displays an arrogance that the world has spotted and called us on.
The administration has two options: Either listen to the opposing voices, or hire better spin doctors. The ones they have are slipping.
"UNITED NATIONS (Feb. 16) - Rattled by an outpouring of anti-war sentiment, the United States and Britain began reworking a draft resolution Saturday to authorize force against Saddam Hussein.
Diplomats, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the final product may be a softer text that does not explicitly call for war."
I know this must disappoint George W., having gotten his way all his life from Exeter to admission to Yale with a C average, but this may finally be a sign of reason prevailing over petulance.
When millions of people around the world are crying out against the war, pausing to listen is a wise decision. Millions of protesters may have a point.
Back in the Vietnam era, politicians spoke ominously of the domino effect. The theory was, if one nation fell to communism, others would follow like tipping dominos.
The domino theory was used repeatedly to justify U.S. involvement in what was basically a civil war in Vietnam. We all know what happened, and we all know that communism is now the last bastion of fools who have led their impoverished countries into economic rubble.
As a former government spin doctor for the Department of Veterans Affairs, my job was to craft phrases designed to mollify the media on matters like Persian Gulf Syndrome.
With the media clamoring for information about the odd, multiple illnesses striking returning Gulf War veterans, I coined the term "you can't rush the science," meaning that we didn't have any answers until all the research was done on the causes of various diseases our vets were developing.
While that was partially true, it was a convenient catch phrase that made it difficult for the media to pressure the VA for answers it had, but did not want to provide.
To wit, the federal government is filled with spin doctors whose job it is to provide catch phrases to justify whatever action that is on their agenda.
That the public falls for so many of them is less a credit to the spin doctors than a reflection of the lemming mentality of our society.
If more people would wake up, look around and judge for themselves what is right and what is wrong, critical reasoning would take the place of slogans and catch phrases designed to mollify the benignant electorate, who settle for pat phrases.
The catch phrase this administration has used, "You're either for us or against us," is but one example. It precludes the possibility that they could be wrong and displays an arrogance that the world has spotted and called us on.
The administration has two options: Either listen to the opposing voices, or hire better spin doctors. The ones they have are slipping.
Saturday, February 15, 2003
1-2-3-4
We don't want your fucking war!
Today marks a day of global protests against the U.S. going to war with Iraq.
While I haven't checked to make sure all the organizers aren't Stalinists, one has to wonder why countries like Australia and Japan would concern themselves with an American war.
Could it be because the whole idea of war with Iraq is fucked up?
Could it be that resident Bush and his henchmen are about to launch a plan that is so potentially deadly it might start WWIII?
Here's just a partial list of what nations are participating and their estimated census (from yesterday or today):
Seoul, South Korea: 1,500
London, England: 500,000
United Nations Building, NYC: 100,000
Melbourne, Australia: 100,000
Tokyo, Japan: 6,000 yesterday and more expected today
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: 1,500
Bangkok, Thailand: 2,000
Rome, Italy: 1 million
Germany: 100,000
Paris, France: 50,000
Florence, Italy: 300,000
American cities: countless
There's a pretty good sized protest slated for San Antonio today.
I'll likely be there.
A fellow blogger said I might one day be ashamed to have spoken out against this war.
People said that to me back in the Vietnam era, too and they were wrong.
A few years ago, even Robert MacNamara, the secretary of defense during the Vietnam era said in his book that war was a bad idea.
I was never sorry for a moment that I protested against Vietnam.
I'm sure I'll feel the same about this war.
And to the right wing, America love it or leave it flag wavers who think protesters against a war in Iraq are treasonous, open your eyes.
Americans of all ages, races, genders and political affiliations will be out in millions today. This ain't no party. This ain't no disco. This ain't no foolin' around.
Today's weather is San Antonio calls for a high of 68º.
It'll be a great day for a march.
We don't want your fucking war!
Today marks a day of global protests against the U.S. going to war with Iraq.
While I haven't checked to make sure all the organizers aren't Stalinists, one has to wonder why countries like Australia and Japan would concern themselves with an American war.
Could it be because the whole idea of war with Iraq is fucked up?
Could it be that resident Bush and his henchmen are about to launch a plan that is so potentially deadly it might start WWIII?
Here's just a partial list of what nations are participating and their estimated census (from yesterday or today):
Seoul, South Korea: 1,500
London, England: 500,000
United Nations Building, NYC: 100,000
Melbourne, Australia: 100,000
Tokyo, Japan: 6,000 yesterday and more expected today
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: 1,500
Bangkok, Thailand: 2,000
Rome, Italy: 1 million
Germany: 100,000
Paris, France: 50,000
Florence, Italy: 300,000
American cities: countless
There's a pretty good sized protest slated for San Antonio today.
I'll likely be there.
A fellow blogger said I might one day be ashamed to have spoken out against this war.
People said that to me back in the Vietnam era, too and they were wrong.
A few years ago, even Robert MacNamara, the secretary of defense during the Vietnam era said in his book that war was a bad idea.
I was never sorry for a moment that I protested against Vietnam.
I'm sure I'll feel the same about this war.
And to the right wing, America love it or leave it flag wavers who think protesters against a war in Iraq are treasonous, open your eyes.
Americans of all ages, races, genders and political affiliations will be out in millions today. This ain't no party. This ain't no disco. This ain't no foolin' around.
Today's weather is San Antonio calls for a high of 68º.
It'll be a great day for a march.
Thursday, February 13, 2003
Oh, My My
The men against the women in the season premier of Survivor.
The men, filled with testosterone-charged bravado and cockiness, came on strong at the beginning.
The women, led by the token dyke district attorney, seemed a little weak at first. They do not make shelter well. They do not use kerosene to help light the fire. They wash their buffs in scarce drinking water. Idiots! I thought.
Then they kicked the men's asses in the first immunity challenge.
I was thinking the woman with the hearing loss might be a liability- especially when Jeff was explaining the first challenge. Then I worried about her balance. She seemed fine.
So they kicked off Ryan, the pretty boy age-o-phobic sexist.
The men were sexist pigs, some bordering on downright misogyny. The women were insipid, disorganized and and whiny.
I am not in love with any of them yet.
Let me think.
The men against the women in the season premier of Survivor.
The men, filled with testosterone-charged bravado and cockiness, came on strong at the beginning.
The women, led by the token dyke district attorney, seemed a little weak at first. They do not make shelter well. They do not use kerosene to help light the fire. They wash their buffs in scarce drinking water. Idiots! I thought.
Then they kicked the men's asses in the first immunity challenge.
I was thinking the woman with the hearing loss might be a liability- especially when Jeff was explaining the first challenge. Then I worried about her balance. She seemed fine.
So they kicked off Ryan, the pretty boy age-o-phobic sexist.
The men were sexist pigs, some bordering on downright misogyny. The women were insipid, disorganized and and whiny.
I am not in love with any of them yet.
Let me think.
Oh Thank God, He's Alive!!
In a tape authenticated by American Intelligence to be the voice of Osama Bin Laden, the wily desert rat voiced his support for "the socialist government of Iraq and their infidel citizens."
Though hardly a declaration of intense solidarity, at least we know the evil bastard is alive and able to comment on world events now that resident Bush has shifted the focus off him and onto Saddam.
Hey, I have a plan!
Since we taxpayers okayed the resident's plans to send troops into Afghanistan last year so we could bring Bin Laden to justice, now that we know we know he's still alive, how about completing that mission before invading Iraq?
Yes, Dubya, you should finish your veggies before you get dessert.
I have been called a leftist, a liberal (like that's a bad thing) and a dove by a fellow Blogger, because I oppose a war with Iraq.
If being all those things means I don't want Bin Laden and his Al Qaida buddies annihilated in the most gruesome way possible, then I stand corrected.
Last time I checked, Bin Laden and his cronies were responsible for the 9/11 attacks. Why he's being allowed to go scot free so the resident can commit American troops and cash to crushing Iraq is beyond comprehension.
Bringing down a Muslim head of state will only inflame lunatics like Osama and his ilk.
Bringing down Bin Laden will send a much stronger message to Saddam and other Middle Eastern leaders, and Turkey and Israel won't get nuked in the process.
In a tape authenticated by American Intelligence to be the voice of Osama Bin Laden, the wily desert rat voiced his support for "the socialist government of Iraq and their infidel citizens."
Though hardly a declaration of intense solidarity, at least we know the evil bastard is alive and able to comment on world events now that resident Bush has shifted the focus off him and onto Saddam.
Hey, I have a plan!
Since we taxpayers okayed the resident's plans to send troops into Afghanistan last year so we could bring Bin Laden to justice, now that we know we know he's still alive, how about completing that mission before invading Iraq?
Yes, Dubya, you should finish your veggies before you get dessert.
I have been called a leftist, a liberal (like that's a bad thing) and a dove by a fellow Blogger, because I oppose a war with Iraq.
If being all those things means I don't want Bin Laden and his Al Qaida buddies annihilated in the most gruesome way possible, then I stand corrected.
Last time I checked, Bin Laden and his cronies were responsible for the 9/11 attacks. Why he's being allowed to go scot free so the resident can commit American troops and cash to crushing Iraq is beyond comprehension.
Bringing down a Muslim head of state will only inflame lunatics like Osama and his ilk.
Bringing down Bin Laden will send a much stronger message to Saddam and other Middle Eastern leaders, and Turkey and Israel won't get nuked in the process.
Insert Survivor Theme Song Here
The day has arrived, when 16 sniveling weasels compete for a million bucks in Survivor Amazon.
The 90 minute premiere (CBS 7 central) pits the men against the women near the Rio Negro in Brazil.
The cast includes a male "rocket scientist" and a female deputy district attorney.
Ha! I like those odds already.
Featured on this edition will be Cayman alligators, piranhas, anacondas and sloths.
The animals on the Amazon are said to be pretty fierce, too.
The women's tribe is called Jaburu (Jabberjaws) and the men's is called Tambaqui (Tampaxi).
After the premier, I will post a review and my takes on the contestants.
Anyone who had never seen Survivor, this is your chance to get in on the ground floor.
BE THERE!
The day has arrived, when 16 sniveling weasels compete for a million bucks in Survivor Amazon.
The 90 minute premiere (CBS 7 central) pits the men against the women near the Rio Negro in Brazil.
The cast includes a male "rocket scientist" and a female deputy district attorney.
Ha! I like those odds already.
Featured on this edition will be Cayman alligators, piranhas, anacondas and sloths.
The animals on the Amazon are said to be pretty fierce, too.
The women's tribe is called Jaburu (Jabberjaws) and the men's is called Tambaqui (Tampaxi).
After the premier, I will post a review and my takes on the contestants.
Anyone who had never seen Survivor, this is your chance to get in on the ground floor.
BE THERE!
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
Tuesday, February 11, 2003
Haiku Homage to Spacemonk Mike, for winning the song contest
Namaste Spacemonk
He's an action packed fella
Just like Lance Armstrong
Mike tries to stay fit
Skating, biking and much more
I smell liniment
Spacemonk eat no meat
He like that tofu and soy stuff
He dreams of brisket
He knows his music
He knows all the obscure stuff
Including ABBA
Mike's a peaceful guy
No war in Iraq for Mike
Godammit, Barcode
Mike's a college prof
He teaches avid students
How to give good blog
Mike is my soulmate
Just like me except for his
genitalia
Namaste Spacemonk
He's an action packed fella
Just like Lance Armstrong
Mike tries to stay fit
Skating, biking and much more
I smell liniment
Spacemonk eat no meat
He like that tofu and soy stuff
He dreams of brisket
He knows his music
He knows all the obscure stuff
Including ABBA
Mike's a peaceful guy
No war in Iraq for Mike
Godammit, Barcode
Mike's a college prof
He teaches avid students
How to give good blog
Mike is my soulmate
Just like me except for his
genitalia
A Public Service
This piece is worth a read for those of you who are sick of being branded a traitor by right wing fascists because you don't swallow everything the Bushians are trying to sell us.
We stopped Dr. Laura, now let's get Rush!
This piece is worth a read for those of you who are sick of being branded a traitor by right wing fascists because you don't swallow everything the Bushians are trying to sell us.
We stopped Dr. Laura, now let's get Rush!
This morning at 3 a train passed by in the distance, really leaning on the freakin' whistle. It woke me out of a deep sleep, at which point this song popped into my head and started repeating itself till I got out of bed. If you can give me the title, you'll win a swell prize.
A stick a stone
it's the end of the road,
it's the rest of the stump
it's a little alone
it's a sliver of glass,
it is life, it's the sun,
it is night, it is death,
it's a trap, it's a gun.
the oak when it blooms,
a fox in the brush,
the knot in the wood,
the song of the thrush.
the wood of the wind,
a cliff, a fall,
a scratch, a lump,
it is nothing at all.
it's the wind blowing free.
it's the end of a slope.
it's a beam, it's a void,
it's a hunch, it's a hope.
and the riverbank talks.
of the water of march
it's the end of the strain,
it's the joy in your heart.
the foot, the ground,
the flesh, the bone,
the beat of the road,
a slingshot stone.
a fish, a flash,
a silvery glow,
a fight, a bet,
the range of the bow.
the bed of the well,
the end of the line,
the dismay in the face,
it's a loss, it's a find.
a spear, a spike,
a point, a nail,
a drip, a drop,
the end of the tale.
a truckload of bricks,
in the soft morning light,
the shot of a gun,
in the dead of the night.
a mile, a must,
a thrust, a bump.
it's a girl, it's a rhyme.
it's the cold, it's the mumps.
the plan of the house,
the body in bed,
the car that got stuck,
it's the mud, it's the mud.
a float, a drift,
a flight, a wing,
a hawk, a quail,
the promise of spring.
and the riverbanks talks.
of the waters of march.
it's the promise of life,
it's the joy in your heart,
a snake, a stick,
it is john, it is joe,
it's a thorn in your hand,
and a cut on your toe.
a point, a grain,
a bee, a bite,
a blink, a buzzard,
the sudden stroke of night.
a pin, a needle,
a sting, a pain,
a snail, a riddle,
a weep, a stain.
a pass in the mountains.
a horse, a mule,
in the distance the shelves.
rode three shadows of blue.
and the riverbank talks
of the promise of life
in your heart, in your heart
a stick, a stone,
the end of the load,
the rest of the stump,
a lonesome road.
a sliver of glass,
a life, the sun,
a night, a death,
the end of the run
and the riverbank talks
of the waters of march
it's the end of all strain
it's the joy in your heart
A stick a stone
it's the end of the road,
it's the rest of the stump
it's a little alone
it's a sliver of glass,
it is life, it's the sun,
it is night, it is death,
it's a trap, it's a gun.
the oak when it blooms,
a fox in the brush,
the knot in the wood,
the song of the thrush.
the wood of the wind,
a cliff, a fall,
a scratch, a lump,
it is nothing at all.
it's the wind blowing free.
it's the end of a slope.
it's a beam, it's a void,
it's a hunch, it's a hope.
and the riverbank talks.
of the water of march
it's the end of the strain,
it's the joy in your heart.
the foot, the ground,
the flesh, the bone,
the beat of the road,
a slingshot stone.
a fish, a flash,
a silvery glow,
a fight, a bet,
the range of the bow.
the bed of the well,
the end of the line,
the dismay in the face,
it's a loss, it's a find.
a spear, a spike,
a point, a nail,
a drip, a drop,
the end of the tale.
a truckload of bricks,
in the soft morning light,
the shot of a gun,
in the dead of the night.
a mile, a must,
a thrust, a bump.
it's a girl, it's a rhyme.
it's the cold, it's the mumps.
the plan of the house,
the body in bed,
the car that got stuck,
it's the mud, it's the mud.
a float, a drift,
a flight, a wing,
a hawk, a quail,
the promise of spring.
and the riverbanks talks.
of the waters of march.
it's the promise of life,
it's the joy in your heart,
a snake, a stick,
it is john, it is joe,
it's a thorn in your hand,
and a cut on your toe.
a point, a grain,
a bee, a bite,
a blink, a buzzard,
the sudden stroke of night.
a pin, a needle,
a sting, a pain,
a snail, a riddle,
a weep, a stain.
a pass in the mountains.
a horse, a mule,
in the distance the shelves.
rode three shadows of blue.
and the riverbank talks
of the promise of life
in your heart, in your heart
a stick, a stone,
the end of the load,
the rest of the stump,
a lonesome road.
a sliver of glass,
a life, the sun,
a night, a death,
the end of the run
and the riverbank talks
of the waters of march
it's the end of all strain
it's the joy in your heart
Monday, February 10, 2003
Promising...
I am starting to get all sorts of e-mail petitions and pieces that speak against going to war in Iraq. People are joining together en masse to try to put an end to this madness, and it's about time. Congress reps and senators are starting to ask Bush and his cronies the hard questions.
Ending Al Qaida-style terrorism and finding Bin Laden were the concepts that got us involved in Afghanistan.
Bin Laden is the head of the snake. Saddam is just another poisonous lizard.
War with Iraq will cause Islamic states and nations all over the globe to side with Allah, and Allah likes Iraq. We don't need more enemies, especially religious wackos who think dying for Allah will help them find eternal... whatever.
When you get that mail, forward it. Write to the editors of your local newspapers. Vote for those who oppose war. Contribute to campaigns whose candidates oppose war.
War has it's place. This is not it. Spread the word before it's too late.
I am starting to get all sorts of e-mail petitions and pieces that speak against going to war in Iraq. People are joining together en masse to try to put an end to this madness, and it's about time. Congress reps and senators are starting to ask Bush and his cronies the hard questions.
Ending Al Qaida-style terrorism and finding Bin Laden were the concepts that got us involved in Afghanistan.
Bin Laden is the head of the snake. Saddam is just another poisonous lizard.
War with Iraq will cause Islamic states and nations all over the globe to side with Allah, and Allah likes Iraq. We don't need more enemies, especially religious wackos who think dying for Allah will help them find eternal... whatever.
When you get that mail, forward it. Write to the editors of your local newspapers. Vote for those who oppose war. Contribute to campaigns whose candidates oppose war.
War has it's place. This is not it. Spread the word before it's too late.
Sunday, February 09, 2003
Sunday Bloggy Sunday
I finally got to see "Chicago" at the movies yesterday. It was great. I like musicals and this one made actually me like Richard Gere *and* Catherine Zeta Jones. And Queen Latifa's costumes were incredible. She's got some serious shelfage I'd never noticed.
Survivor Amazon will be starting in four short days. This time it's the men against the women. I saw an M-TV special preview and the cast seems filled with people we can love and hate. I can't wait!
Martha Stewart is wondering to the media why everyone hates her. I think if she gets sentenced to some jail time, she'll find plenty of women who'll love her like she's never been loved before.
"Mama Mia," a Broadway musical featuring the music of ABBA, has a touring company in town right now. I'd rather take an icepick to the eye than see that.
I got some new progressive vision eyeglasses. No line bifocals.
I am officially an old coot. All I need now is an apron with Kleenex crammed in the pockets and I will officially be my grandmother's reincarnation.
I finally got to see "Chicago" at the movies yesterday. It was great. I like musicals and this one made actually me like Richard Gere *and* Catherine Zeta Jones. And Queen Latifa's costumes were incredible. She's got some serious shelfage I'd never noticed.
Survivor Amazon will be starting in four short days. This time it's the men against the women. I saw an M-TV special preview and the cast seems filled with people we can love and hate. I can't wait!
Martha Stewart is wondering to the media why everyone hates her. I think if she gets sentenced to some jail time, she'll find plenty of women who'll love her like she's never been loved before.
"Mama Mia," a Broadway musical featuring the music of ABBA, has a touring company in town right now. I'd rather take an icepick to the eye than see that.
I got some new progressive vision eyeglasses. No line bifocals.
I am officially an old coot. All I need now is an apron with Kleenex crammed in the pockets and I will officially be my grandmother's reincarnation.
Saturday, February 08, 2003
Snow, sleet and a pretty bad movie
I think the AOL weather service is trying to gaslight us.
The current temp is 37ºF and they forecast snow and sleet for San Antonio.
It rarely snows or sleets here. Last time I recall it snowing here, A Flock of Seagulls was on the top ten charts.
It's gray and drizzly outside, with the sun trying to poke in from the Southwest. It is not going to snow or sleet. They are crazy.
Meanwhile, last night I went to see Spike Lee's latest joint, "The 25th Hour."
Spike has lost his magic touch. Aside from a brilliant soliloquy Edward Norton's character delivered to a men's room mirror, the rest of the movie was like waiting for something interesting to happen.
I nearly fell asleep, except for the acute gastritis I was having from too much fiber in my diet earlier that day. Nothing like stabbing gut pains to keep one on her cinematic toes.
Anna asked me to see Kangaroo Jack with her and Andrei today. I almost went for it, but sanity prevailed and I have decided not to go.
After all, it's too snowy and sleety outside.
I think the AOL weather service is trying to gaslight us.
The current temp is 37ºF and they forecast snow and sleet for San Antonio.
It rarely snows or sleets here. Last time I recall it snowing here, A Flock of Seagulls was on the top ten charts.
It's gray and drizzly outside, with the sun trying to poke in from the Southwest. It is not going to snow or sleet. They are crazy.
Meanwhile, last night I went to see Spike Lee's latest joint, "The 25th Hour."
Spike has lost his magic touch. Aside from a brilliant soliloquy Edward Norton's character delivered to a men's room mirror, the rest of the movie was like waiting for something interesting to happen.
I nearly fell asleep, except for the acute gastritis I was having from too much fiber in my diet earlier that day. Nothing like stabbing gut pains to keep one on her cinematic toes.
Anna asked me to see Kangaroo Jack with her and Andrei today. I almost went for it, but sanity prevailed and I have decided not to go.
After all, it's too snowy and sleety outside.
Friday, February 07, 2003
Uh oh! We are under Orange Alert!
How ridiculous.
The Office of Homeland Insecurity Director Tom Ridge has put the country on Orange Alert, just one step away from Red Alert.
Oh, come on. We've been on Red Alert since September 11, 2001, who's kidding who?
While North Korea is moving ingredients for actual nuclear weapons all over the place in plain sight, Bush and his buddies are squawking about empty shell casings, and Powell is showing the world computer mockups of supposed mobile bomb labs in Iraq, fuzzy satellite photos of God knows what and acting like the smoke and mirrors are real things.
Of course we are under Red Alert.
The Middle East thinks we are coming to blow them all up.
Meanwhile, North Korea is taking advantage of the distraction and running amok. The U.S. government is ignoring them and letting them do whatever they like.
What the hell's going on in Washington DC?
Has everyone gone CRAZY???
How ridiculous.
The Office of Homeland Insecurity Director Tom Ridge has put the country on Orange Alert, just one step away from Red Alert.
Oh, come on. We've been on Red Alert since September 11, 2001, who's kidding who?
While North Korea is moving ingredients for actual nuclear weapons all over the place in plain sight, Bush and his buddies are squawking about empty shell casings, and Powell is showing the world computer mockups of supposed mobile bomb labs in Iraq, fuzzy satellite photos of God knows what and acting like the smoke and mirrors are real things.
Of course we are under Red Alert.
The Middle East thinks we are coming to blow them all up.
Meanwhile, North Korea is taking advantage of the distraction and running amok. The U.S. government is ignoring them and letting them do whatever they like.
What the hell's going on in Washington DC?
Has everyone gone CRAZY???
Thursday, February 06, 2003
Torture
Today, all day, I have a job judging a statewide newspaper contest. The pay is great but the job is arduous.
I'll have to read maybe 200 entries in 10 categories and choose the winners.
That means I have to read all the losers, too.
When one writes for a 4-page newspaper in Muleshoe, Texas, one may be tempted to go a little folksy in his or her writing style. I hate folksy.
Another cringe factor category is the feature photography. Inevitably there will be pictures of toddlers with bunnies, toddlers with Santa, toddlers draped in American flags, toddlers with pie on their heads, toddlers with puppies...ehh, you get the picture.
With the recent threats to our freedom, I'll also have to read a few scores of hyper patriotic editorials. The smaller the town, the more emphatic the editorial.
In most of them, the word "liberal" is on a par with "incest," "flag burning," "dog shooting" and "mama slapping."
I've already been warned, one entrant was so impressed with her historical documentary news stories, she entered 40 of them. I have read 500 of them from past years. I am so looking forward to reading the history of the brass water fountain located next to the old hitchin' post in Shinola, Texas.
So, off I go into Badnewsville.
It's times like this I wish I was a drunk. But the day is young, I may still have time.
Today, all day, I have a job judging a statewide newspaper contest. The pay is great but the job is arduous.
I'll have to read maybe 200 entries in 10 categories and choose the winners.
That means I have to read all the losers, too.
When one writes for a 4-page newspaper in Muleshoe, Texas, one may be tempted to go a little folksy in his or her writing style. I hate folksy.
Another cringe factor category is the feature photography. Inevitably there will be pictures of toddlers with bunnies, toddlers with Santa, toddlers draped in American flags, toddlers with pie on their heads, toddlers with puppies...ehh, you get the picture.
With the recent threats to our freedom, I'll also have to read a few scores of hyper patriotic editorials. The smaller the town, the more emphatic the editorial.
In most of them, the word "liberal" is on a par with "incest," "flag burning," "dog shooting" and "mama slapping."
I've already been warned, one entrant was so impressed with her historical documentary news stories, she entered 40 of them. I have read 500 of them from past years. I am so looking forward to reading the history of the brass water fountain located next to the old hitchin' post in Shinola, Texas.
So, off I go into Badnewsville.
It's times like this I wish I was a drunk. But the day is young, I may still have time.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Shameless Shuttle Pandering
Sunday was a very sad day, to be sure, but the media is pandering to the masses with excessively maudlin news coverage about the Challenger explosion.
First of all, we don't need these hastily composed little musical lead-ins to hear new information about the recovery efforts. Even the local news channels are doing that and I find it offensive.
We all know it was a tragedy. We don't need the media plugging gaps in their news lineup with any more sentimental quotes from anyone even remotely involved with NASA, the victims' friends or family.
None of us knew any of the astronauts' names, or even that the Challenger was in space before the tragedy occurred. That the media failed to cover the story when it was "an ordinary space mission" shows that sensationalistic blood n' guts reporting is what the media thinks we want to know.
Tell us what's happening, yes, but stop trying to make us cry. We already have.
To the media: Show more respect to the casualties and their loved ones.
Have a little dignity and stop using your news coverage to stir up emotions, increase ratings and sell more pickup trucks through your ads.
Just tell us what's happening and get on with it.
Sunday was a very sad day, to be sure, but the media is pandering to the masses with excessively maudlin news coverage about the Challenger explosion.
First of all, we don't need these hastily composed little musical lead-ins to hear new information about the recovery efforts. Even the local news channels are doing that and I find it offensive.
We all know it was a tragedy. We don't need the media plugging gaps in their news lineup with any more sentimental quotes from anyone even remotely involved with NASA, the victims' friends or family.
None of us knew any of the astronauts' names, or even that the Challenger was in space before the tragedy occurred. That the media failed to cover the story when it was "an ordinary space mission" shows that sensationalistic blood n' guts reporting is what the media thinks we want to know.
Tell us what's happening, yes, but stop trying to make us cry. We already have.
To the media: Show more respect to the casualties and their loved ones.
Have a little dignity and stop using your news coverage to stir up emotions, increase ratings and sell more pickup trucks through your ads.
Just tell us what's happening and get on with it.
Monday, February 03, 2003
I Got Nuthin'
I am working hard to meet a two week deadline in one week and trying to keep a million other appointments before Friday.
Feels like I am juggling a feather, an egg and a lit chainsaw.
I have no blog material.
I am tapped.
Yes, I have blogger block.
So I ask my readers, what are you getting your sweetheart for Valentine's Day?
What would you like to get?
I am working hard to meet a two week deadline in one week and trying to keep a million other appointments before Friday.
Feels like I am juggling a feather, an egg and a lit chainsaw.
I have no blog material.
I am tapped.
Yes, I have blogger block.
So I ask my readers, what are you getting your sweetheart for Valentine's Day?
What would you like to get?
Sunday, February 02, 2003
It Takes a Village
My best friend Anna has a cute little son called Andrei.
I haven't spent much quality time with the little nipper because he's extremely active and kind of gives me an eye tic after an hour or so.
He had a project for kindergarten (or maybe first grade, I can't keep track) where he had to contribute a building for the little town his class is building. They were told to use shoe boxes or cereal boxes, whatever was around.
Now I'm not saying Andrei is gay, but I will say he's got a flair for the dramatic. He likes to examine cosmetics, he experiments with his own hairstyles and he's finicky about apparel. You do the math, and use a lavender glitter pen.
I told his mom I'd help him with his building, since I had the art supplies and God knows I have shoe boxes.
So I decided on a disco.
I took over an empty Land's End shoe box I'd sponged in metallic blue and silver. I X-acto knifed out a door and a few windows. It was up to him to decorate it with the glitter and Day-Glo paints I took along.
The boy went punk on us. He smeared, he daubed, he speckled and he went way asymmetrical.
Anna and I were cringing at his emerging abstract expressionism and his disdain for the conventions of brush cleaning, paint running together on the palette and putting lids back on paint bottles. He was acting like a bantam rooster on acid.
His building ended up looking like an urban gay bar from a squalid neighborhood.
I LOVED IT!
The boy created a veritable Disco Inferno! The teachers will die when they put it in with the inevitable pet shop, candy store, church and schoolhouse. There goes the neighborhood!
This could be the start of something big. Studio 54, anyone?
My best friend Anna has a cute little son called Andrei.
I haven't spent much quality time with the little nipper because he's extremely active and kind of gives me an eye tic after an hour or so.
He had a project for kindergarten (or maybe first grade, I can't keep track) where he had to contribute a building for the little town his class is building. They were told to use shoe boxes or cereal boxes, whatever was around.
Now I'm not saying Andrei is gay, but I will say he's got a flair for the dramatic. He likes to examine cosmetics, he experiments with his own hairstyles and he's finicky about apparel. You do the math, and use a lavender glitter pen.
I told his mom I'd help him with his building, since I had the art supplies and God knows I have shoe boxes.
So I decided on a disco.
I took over an empty Land's End shoe box I'd sponged in metallic blue and silver. I X-acto knifed out a door and a few windows. It was up to him to decorate it with the glitter and Day-Glo paints I took along.
The boy went punk on us. He smeared, he daubed, he speckled and he went way asymmetrical.
Anna and I were cringing at his emerging abstract expressionism and his disdain for the conventions of brush cleaning, paint running together on the palette and putting lids back on paint bottles. He was acting like a bantam rooster on acid.
His building ended up looking like an urban gay bar from a squalid neighborhood.
I LOVED IT!
The boy created a veritable Disco Inferno! The teachers will die when they put it in with the inevitable pet shop, candy store, church and schoolhouse. There goes the neighborhood!
This could be the start of something big. Studio 54, anyone?
Foggy Days and Movies
What's with the fog in San Antonio lately? I feel like I'm in San Francisco.
My best friend Anna called this morning, wanting to catch an afternoon matinee. Sounded like a plan, but she wants to see "The Recruit" and I'd rather to see something that doesn't involve murder, bloodshed and mayhem.
I'd kind of like to see "Chicago," but it's a musical and Anna would probably rather eat a broken beer bottle than see a musical. She is a total man when it comes to movies.
We have seen the two worst movies in history together, "Beloved" and "Magnolia."
"Beloved" still gives me a queasy stomach just thinking about it and "Magnolia" finally made me decide I can't stand Tom Cruise.
I think when it comes right down to it, I like chick flicks the best.
Too bad my chief moviegoing companion is a man trapped in a cute girly girl's body.
Maybe I'll ask her husband to a movie. He likes chick flicks.
What's with the fog in San Antonio lately? I feel like I'm in San Francisco.
My best friend Anna called this morning, wanting to catch an afternoon matinee. Sounded like a plan, but she wants to see "The Recruit" and I'd rather to see something that doesn't involve murder, bloodshed and mayhem.
I'd kind of like to see "Chicago," but it's a musical and Anna would probably rather eat a broken beer bottle than see a musical. She is a total man when it comes to movies.
We have seen the two worst movies in history together, "Beloved" and "Magnolia."
"Beloved" still gives me a queasy stomach just thinking about it and "Magnolia" finally made me decide I can't stand Tom Cruise.
I think when it comes right down to it, I like chick flicks the best.
Too bad my chief moviegoing companion is a man trapped in a cute girly girl's body.
Maybe I'll ask her husband to a movie. He likes chick flicks.
Saturday, February 01, 2003
Saturday's Procrastination Blog
• Horrible news about the space shuttle. I wonder how many people thought "terrorism" when they first heard about it?
• Ugh. I have to go to Sears today. What a depressing errand. It doesn't even smell like popcorn in Sears anymore. I always feel like my parents when I'm in Sears because I never have to go there for any fun reason, it's always for something functional.
• I have to see the ophthalmologist on Tuesday. I need a diabetes eye exam, which I know will reveal the need for a new lens prescription anyway. Now I have to pick out new frames, all of which seem entirely too small for my face.
• It's a snowball effect, getting new glasses. After new glasses, a new haircut has to follow. Then my clothes will not fit the new look of my head.
• I watched a little bit of "The Man Show" the other night and it was actually sort of funny. Then they started ragging on Rosie O'Donnell and I realized how she must threaten some men, being rich, fat, married to a woman and raising all those kids.
• The female alternative to The Man Show is "Girls Behaving Badly" on the Oxygen network. It's hilarious. Anyone seen it besides me?
• The odometer on my stationary bike broke last night. Without visible evidence of how much I've ridden, I can't stand to put forth the effort. So I actually had to hunker down, examine the mechanism and fix it. I was so proud of myself, I rode another 10 miles on the bike.
• Anyone seen Madonna lately? Yipes. She's starting to look like Gloria Swanson, ready for her close-up.
• Horrible news about the space shuttle. I wonder how many people thought "terrorism" when they first heard about it?
• Ugh. I have to go to Sears today. What a depressing errand. It doesn't even smell like popcorn in Sears anymore. I always feel like my parents when I'm in Sears because I never have to go there for any fun reason, it's always for something functional.
• I have to see the ophthalmologist on Tuesday. I need a diabetes eye exam, which I know will reveal the need for a new lens prescription anyway. Now I have to pick out new frames, all of which seem entirely too small for my face.
• It's a snowball effect, getting new glasses. After new glasses, a new haircut has to follow. Then my clothes will not fit the new look of my head.
• I watched a little bit of "The Man Show" the other night and it was actually sort of funny. Then they started ragging on Rosie O'Donnell and I realized how she must threaten some men, being rich, fat, married to a woman and raising all those kids.
• The female alternative to The Man Show is "Girls Behaving Badly" on the Oxygen network. It's hilarious. Anyone seen it besides me?
• The odometer on my stationary bike broke last night. Without visible evidence of how much I've ridden, I can't stand to put forth the effort. So I actually had to hunker down, examine the mechanism and fix it. I was so proud of myself, I rode another 10 miles on the bike.
• Anyone seen Madonna lately? Yipes. She's starting to look like Gloria Swanson, ready for her close-up.
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