Colbert & Cookies

A hard-hitting Colbert interview with Cookie Monster.

Bert & Ernie....going gangsta

Bert & Ernie from Sesame Street do gangsta rap. 'Nuf said.

Awww, lion snuggles

This YouTube video has been getting a lot of play lately, and I have to admit it makes me tear up every time.

From the "WTF?" files...

Yep, it's Mr. T.

But check closer...

Snickers candy bars.

A lot of 'em. And not the little Snickers bars, either.

And they're dangling from his neck with the massive gold bling that has become synonymous with Mr. T.

"Snickers Bling."

No longer craving a Snickers bar.

Tivo'ing the Family Jewels

Being up late at night, plus not being able to sleep is a bad combination. Add to that the boredom that causes you to flip channels and find shows that you'd normally never watch. Then, due to the advent of the Tivo (oh how I love you!), you start taping entire seasons of the shows you'd normally never watch in the first place.

My latest Tivo find (even though it's in Season 3 already)? A&E channel's Gene Simmons Family Jewels. A show entirely about Gene Simmons, the dude with the tongue from the band Kiss, and his family. His girlfriend (0f 24 years) is Shannon Tweed, who rose to fame in the 80s as a Playboy Playmate and star of a number of Cinemax soft core porn movies (admit it, you've seen Shannon's work). Together they have 2 teenage kids; Nick, who's funny and kinda bad-boy hot, and Sophie, who seems very smart.

I have to say, for a reality show, this show is pretty good. Gene Simmons is remarkably likable, and the family as a whole, is pretty funny. I never realized the media machine that Gene Simmons continues to be. He's an extraordinary businessman who started as a humble Jewish immigrant, grew up to marry (more-or-less) a Playmate, and made millions (possibly billions?) off of his tongue, playing bass for Kiss (supposedly still around?), and marketing every item imaginable with the band's likeness. Who would have guessed it?

At any rate, if you've got insomnia, check out this show.

Breaking News

Breaking news, folks. A searchable listing of the 600 Starbucks locations that will be closing has been posted over at the Huffington Post (thanks Arianna!).

I don't know when these stores are scheduled to close, but I thought it was my civic duty to inform y'all if one is near you. You know if you get up one morning and head over to your favorite 'Bux and it's closed, you'll be sad. So think of this as a little sadness prevention.

Listing of stores to be closed is here.

Phone Coolness

This past week I've completely succumbed to geeking out (but in a cool way) with all the new Iphone applications that became available via the Itunes store last Friday.

Some of my recommendations (btw, these are all free applications), in no particular order:

** BoxOffice. Cool Movie app to find what is playing in your area.
** The new Facebook app (so much better than the old one).
** Evernote. I'm just starting to use this application, and it's cool. I have a feeling I could still learn how to make it even cooler if I read the instructions.
** UrbanSpoon. Cool app to find out about the restaurants in your area. Lets you focus in on the area, type of cuisine, and price. And oh yeah, it makes a cool slot machine noise.
** Shazam. Ok, this one is totally cool. You hold your phone up to a song on the radio/tv/etc. and it identifies the song. You can then go buy it on Itunes (hah, like you didn't see that one coming!). The best thing about this app? The name. I can totally say "Shaaaazzaaaaaammm" all day long.

While there seem to be a bunch of totally useless applications out there (Iphone flashlights, seriously?), I'm sure there are many more that I will probably need as I explore the application store a bit more. Have any recommendations for me? Drop me a note.

One application I really really want? A bluetooth on/off button for the main screen. Now that bluetooth headsets are required when using your cell phone in the car (unless you want a ticket), I'm constantly using this button, but have to go searching for it under settings each time I want to turn the bluetooth on or off. Annoying. Speaking of bluetooth, I found the best bluetooth headset out there, especially if you are a chick (or anyone that likes to throw their bluetooth in a bag and not have the earpiece broken off). It's by Motorola and comes with its own little cute carrying pod.

Because I'm a dork

Heh heh, some kid tricked another kid into eating hamster doo doo.

If I was in 2nd grade, this gag would be the funniest thing EVER! Hell, I'm 38 and it cracked me up! Guess I'm a dork like that.

Image via PostSecret.

Happy 5th of July!

Happy day after "Independence" Day, which I have decided to dub "Dependence" Day. What am I dependent on today? Advil and Starbucks. Well technically almost every day is a 'Bux day (we even brew it at home), but today I'm all about the Advil to try to get my back feeling better after all the landscaping we've been doing the past week. Seriously, if I could purchase a Vicodin Frappuccino right now, it would make my day! I wonder if Starbucks has a product development idea hotline.

Our 4th of July was fairly low key. We spent most of the day doing the aforementioned landscaping, then after showering off the layers of dirt, spent the evening in. We watched a bit of fireworks on TV, which seem to me to last longer than they ever did before. To be honest, I started falling asleep about mid way through. Have I seriously become that indifferent about things blowing up that I now doze off? Or am I just old? Either way, sad.

Landscaping Update

Which would be more entertaining? Landscaping for a week? Or a full-frontal lobotomy? Hmmm. This isn't a good week to ask me.

Today was day three of our week-long project that has so far involved, in no particular order: hauling retaining wall rocks, building retaining walls, hauling paving stones, leveling and paving a courtyard, planting humongoid planters, digging up buttloads of rocks, moving said buttloads of rocks, shoveling dirt, moving dirt around, putting bark on stuff, and way too many trips to Lowe's.

As an aside, I've discovered the secret to receiving good customer service at places like Lowe's. A vagina. Who would have guessed? All I know is when I go to pick up 90, 10-pound stones, they bring them via forklift to my vehicle and then multiple people help load them. When my husband goes to purchase nearly the same order, they take his money, then make themselves scarce.

At any rate, back to the landscaping thing. I have a new appreciation for people that do landscaping all day. Apparently there are special "yardwork" muscles in your body that don't get fully developed until you've hauled/shoveled/dug stuff for three days in a row.

Dirt Cheap?

Dirt cheap? I really don't know where that phrase comes from.

Last time I checked, this earth we live on had lots of dirt. It isn't like it is hoarded by anyone or there is a black market for it. But if you want some? Well, that is another story.

For one thing, and I bet you never thought of it quite this way, dirt is sorta dirty. Therefore, it isn't something you really want flung onto your car upholstery. Secondly, it's sort of heavy. So now there is only one option. Dirt delivery. Whoever it is that delivers the dirt has to charge for that, hence my questioning the phrase "dirt cheap."

But why does anyone get to charge for dirt? I can understand paying for the labor to deliver the dirt, but did they pay for the dirt? At what point do you just get to dig up dirt for free? Anyway, I digress. So now you have to order dirt. The commoner, unfamiliar with the global dirt consumer market, would just call and ask for "dirt." Kind of like going into Starbucks and just asking for "coffee." Much like ordering at the 'Bux, you have to know what size, what you want mixed in, etc. And much like Starbucks, extra stuff costs...extra.

For example, if you want minimal rocks in your dirt, it's extra. If you want garbage and old rotted things (compost) mixed into your dirt, oh yeah, extra. If you want animal crap mixed into your dirt (cuz you know that's going to smell good), that is even more. So, at the end of the day we were the proud recipients of 10 cubic yards of "2-way" topsoil (the "3-way" or "5-way" topsoil sounded a bit kinky for our suburban front yard). The website calls it a nice all-purpose soil with a higher soil content. What this means is beyond me.

More to come as our project is completed.

RIP George Carlin

The world has lost one of its most entertaining storytellers. George Carlin led a colorful life sharing timeless anecdotes that told it like it was. One of my favorites is "A Place for Your Stuff."

His style was mimicked by numerous comedians who came up after him, but nobody was quite like George. Remember these Carlin'isms?:

* The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in opposite directions.
* If man evolved from monkeys and apes. . . why do we still have monkeys and apes?
* Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?
* When someone is impatient and says, "I haven't got all day," I always wonder, How can that be? How can you not have all day?
* Weather forecast for tonight: dark. Continued dark overnight, with widely scattered light by morning.
* Frisbeeism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck.

George, you will be missed.

Ahhh college...

Taste the rainbow....heave up a rainbow?

Having never gone to the kind of college where you stay in a dorm and drink your body weight in cheap alcohol every weekend, I apparently missed out on some things. For example, who would have guessed you could make a tasty beverage by melting skittles into vodka and then straining them through a tshirt? Clearly these Wesleyan students are on to something.

Save Yourselves!

As if you don't have enough to worry about with what's in your food, now you have to worry about where it came from, and is it going to kill you.

Of course I'm about a week behind on this breaking news, but if you rely on me for your breaking news.....first of all, don't. Second of all...don't eat tomatoes!

Word on the street is that a bunch of tomatoes got tainted with Salmonella, which I always thought came from raw poultry. Either growers have been rubbing their tomatoes (which appear to be a vegetable, but are technically a fruit, which makes them weird) on raw chicken, or there are other freakish acts going on that you really don't want to know about. And believe me, I could tell you some freaky tomato stories. Read the next paragraph at your own risk.

Back in the early 90s when I did conference planning for a water industry association down in California, I had the pleasure (??) of touring a wastewater treatment plant. Yep, the place where what you flush down your toilet goes. Surprisingly it smelled of fresh laundry, but I digress. Anyhoo...while touring the outside part of the plant and seeing (albeit from a distance) the huge piles of "biosolids," I noticed plants growing on the piles. When I asked I was told they were tomato plants. My knowledgeable guide informed me that tomato seeds are the only plant seeds to survive the human digestion process. So apparently they come out and are good to go for growing new tomatoes. I'm not saying this is how they get the tomatoes for McDonalds, but you never know, eh?

Tasha Tudor

Tasha Tudor, the extraordinary children's book illustrator passed away this week at the age of 92. I remember her detailed work from the numerous books my grandmother gave me as a child. Ms. Tudor's illustrations were fanciful yet almost fragile, detailed and absolutely beautiful. Sometimes the drawings spoke more to me than the words on the pages. They kept a young reader engaged because there was so much to be discovered in the details of the accompanying illustrations. As I learned about the news of Ms. Tudor's death I searched online for a listing of the books she illustrated and realized I could recall at least a dozen as being favorites from my early childhood.

I also learned more about the woman behind the illustrations. Tasha Tudor was a quirky woman. No doubt about that. A woman whose eccentricities made her endearing, yet inaccessible at the same time. She was a woman who was ahead of her time even though she felt more comfortable relating to a bygone era. A woman much like my own grandmother, who also lived to the ripe age of 92.

Some of Tasha Tudor's drawings can be found on the Cellar Door Books website.

Splish, Splash, Sigh

Yet another ramification of nobody paying me $400,000 for anything (as lamented upon in yesterday's post) is that, alas, I cannot afford the bathtub that should rightfully be mine.

I do have a soaking tub, which I use fairly frequently, but it seems so downright sad when compared to the $47,000 Red Diamond Bathtub. Not only does my bathtub not have swarovski crystal-encrusted champagne holders (weep for me) and a built-in massage system, but my tub doesn't have even one retractable HDTV monitor, let alone two. And even though I have an Iphone, my inadequate and technology-challenged tub can't receive calls to activate itself via a built-in GSM module.

Because I know this tale of unjust deprivation will strike a chord with so many of my readers (admit it, you won't be able to sleep at night), I'm fully prepared to set up a fund for donations towards my worthy cause.

I could totally be a Simpson!

Just to be perfectly clear, by "Simpson" I'm referring to the yellow cartoon kind, not the "if the glove doesn't fit, you must acquit" variety.

Under a newly negotiated agreement, the main cast of the Simpsons (and in this case, by cast I mean voices for animated cartoons) will now receive $400,000 per episode. That was per episode. Each. The $400k per episode salary is $100k less per episode than the actors (voices) had asked for, but incidentally is approximately $50k more per episode than the current top paid sitcom actor (more than just a voice).

I know that after 20 years on tv the Simpsons are legend, and a voice change would be weird, but seriously? $400k per episode for a job you can literally almost phone in? A job you don't have to comb your hair for? A tv job you don't have to be a slave to the gym for? Really? Clearly I missed my calling because nobody is paying me $400,000 for anything.

By the way, the above picture is what I'd look like as a Simpson according to this site . Sorta foxy, if I do say so myself. D'oh!

Cupcakes for Dudes

Now I think I've seen it all. In my effort to remain informed on all things cupcake, I was sent this link to a brand new flavor.... meatloaf cupcakes with mashed potato frosting.

I have to admit they're kinda cute. And while men claim to not "get" the allure of cupcakes, I can see guys easily tossing back half-o'-dozen of these.

Recipe here.

Let's Hear it for Teachers

I guess teachers do deserve their 10 week vacation during the summer. I know most of us (myself included) might not have the patience to last a day in the average classroom.

Image courtesy of Post Secret.

Girlie Gadgets

How cute are these? USB key drive thingies, but cute!

Check out the full line (although, I can't figure out how you can order them in small quantities, sorry).

Competitive and Slightly Addictive

Now I may not be a super competitive person, but at times, beating others at marginally useless games of skill makes me a tad giddy.

My newly found distraction-site-'o-the-day? TypeRacer.

This beta site is a way of testing your typing speed. And probably a way of improving your typing speed. All while entering in famous and slightly amusing quotes from songs, movies, books, and the like. You can practice on your own, or you can compete against others. And if you're like me, you win most of the time -- you win even though you never learned how to type "properly" using the right fingers. And then you get that buzz of exoneration from the memory of that temp Office Manager that told you at age 20 that you'd never amount to anything because you didn't type with the "proper" fingers. Or maybe that's just me.

Anyhow...try the game. It's fun and ever so slightly addictive. In seven "races," I made it to "megaracer" status. If it's got the word "mega" in it, it must be the cool people level.

Trifecta of Happiness

Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon the Trifecta of Happiness. Or in other words, how to go from a really crappy day, to a smiley happy day without the use of alcohol.

Here is the exact recipe for success. I performed my three steps in Factoria (of all places):

1) DSW Shoes. Try on anything you like. Don't look at prices. Even try on the ugliest pair in the store, just for fun.

2) Starbucks. Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte and a Snickerdoodle cookie. I believe they technically cancel each other out, like a donut with a diet Coke.

3) Puppies. Go to the pet store and pet little baby puppies and oooh and ahhh at their cuteness. Lifts your spirits instantly.

The cost of this little adventure was under $6, by the way, seeing as I didn't buy any shoes or puppies.

Gas Prices

Yep, 'nuf said.

Canadians hate sparkly...a horror story

It's not enough that their dollar is worth more than ours, and they're buying up land like crazy in Washington state, but now the Canadians have apparently sent gangs of attack geese to intimidate innocent and unsuspecting American citizens. Lemme explain the horror.

Today's my stepsons 11th birthday, so I'd gone to the party store this morning to pick up a few mylar balloons for this evening. As I leisurely walked out of the store, bam! Mutant, killer Canadian geese! Three of them! Sure, the picture I've included above makes them look innocent, but believe you me, these were geese with an agenda. First they squaked in unison, then they came running towards me with beaks open to show what appeared to be shark-like fangs. Seriously. If I hadn't been worried about them biting my ass, I woulda pulled out my Iphone to take a quick picture. But alas, all I could focus on was quickly shoving the sparkly balloons, that I realized must have induced their collective rage, into the car. The removal of the sparkly objects seemed to make the geese a bit happier, but they still had that look of hatred in their little beady eyes, as if to say "get ooot" (that would be "get out" for us non-Canadians).

As I got back in the car, the geese still circled the vehicle. Mockingly. I locked the car door just in case somehow Canadian geese were brighter than their American counterparts and knew how to open car doors. I even started the engine, but still they did not disburse. I honked the horn and one of the geese raised its wings. Apparently it was still not done with me. The other two were close enough to the back bumper to trigger the motion detectors, so I knew I couldn't back up without hitting them. What seemed like minutes passed, as I, an American citizen, sat imprisoned in my German car, trapped by a gang of Canadian waterfowl. This was now a full-fledged international incident.

Finally, the lady from the party store rushed out with some sort of noise making device that quickly scared them off back towards the pond that's behind the store. She smiled at me as if this must happen frequently.

Oh so adorkable!

Eek a mouse!

Cliff Notes version....

<------ ok in my house <------ not ok in my house

Full version....

Just when I started to get used to the spiders in my Pacific Northwest home, along comes another unwanted visitor. Monday evening as my husband and I were watching tv, out of the corner of my eye I spot a moving brown blur near the fireplace. After I get done soiling myself (haha just kidding), we ("we" meaning my husband) went to go investigate. Turns out it was a "field mouse." I don't know what in my family room reminded lil dude of a field, but he was fast and could not be caught that evening.

Fast forward to Tuesday morning. After a sleepless night with a flashlight handy on my bedside table, I make a voyage to Lowe's first thing in the morning for mouse traps. Since I've never bought a mouse trap before, and there are many kinds of traps, the first decision seems to be whether you want to kill them or not. Now if it were a spider, that one would be a no brainer (all spiders must die...seriously, all of them). But a mouse can be sorta kinda cute and really isn't that different from a hamster or something, right? So I make the humane and mature decision that I didn't want to kill the little intruder, just make him really, really sad.

So I leave Lowes with 5 no-kill mouse traps. I smear the ends with peanut butter (I hope the mouse likes low-carb pb) instead of cheese, which I think would attract my dog before a mouse. I placed the mouse traps around the house, including in the garage and in the daylight basement. Two days later not a bite. Either the mouse has left on his own, or he is holding out for something tastier?

Root of all Evil - Gloria Allred

Uggh, here she goes again. Gloria Allred. Probably the most famous female attorney in the country continues to lower herself to the ranks of ambulance chasing attorneys by being a media whore for every case that might get some attention from the press. Her latest supposed fight for feminism? The Rob Lowe nanny case. Seriously Gloria?

The following blog post about Gloria on the HuffingtonPost.com site is quite brilliant:

Burn the Witch: The Case Against Gloria Allred

And bravo to the writer, Chez, who followed up his HuffingtonPost blog entry with the following quote on his own blog:

"I am, actually, somewhat sorry for implying that Gloria Allred is a wicked witch -- as this is an unwarranted insult to the wicked witch community."

I wonder if Gloria has flyin' monkeys?

Sometimes a picture is worth more than a 1,000 words

Oh and for those of you that have messaged me, posting will be returning to "normal" shortly....hopefully as my life returns more to "normal."

Happy Bday lil girl

So today is my other lil dog's birthday. A big whopping 2 years old. I remember when she was this little timid thing (left). So cute and innocent. And now? Though this picture certainly doesn't show it, she is this tough, snorting, bruiser, who regularly (yet lovingly) beats the crap out of our other dog.

She is also fond of chasing the neighborhood construction workers down the street. She's always quite miffed when they laugh at her, instead of cowering in fear. This dog has personality and attitude to spare!

Happy Birthday Izzie. May your day be filled with what you love best....tummy rubs, string cheese, and kickin' ass.

Everything South Park!

Yesterday Comedy Central and the creators of South Park announced the launch of South Park Studios. The mega-site has full episodes of every South Park show ever created...that can be viewed for the low, low price of free!

Go check it out! Check it out now, Mmm'kay?

Political Incorrectness

From the same peoplez that brought you the adorable, yet grammatically incorrect, Icanhascheezburger and Ihasahotdog sites is the new Pundit Kitchen!

Check out the posted pics, or make one of your own. Nothing is more American than making snarky comments about politicians, right? Especially when they give us so much material to work with.

Easter Peep Show!

Ha ha! I never thought of going burlesque with the Peeps. However, I highly recommend buying a package of these nasty heaps of marshmallow grossness and try melting them in the microwave. Just to watch them bloat with the heat then dry in contorted freakish lumps is fairly entertaining. Don't judge me.

Photo courtesy of Cute Overload.

Happy Bday lil dude

Happy Birthday Jasper! For 3 years you've made me laugh. Usually at you, not with you, but much needed laughter on a daily basis. You never cease to amaze me with your unrelenting energy and quest for affection.

I think people can learn a lot from dogs. Maybe not the sniffing others' butts as a way of saying hello thing, but learning to savor the simple things in life like chasing a ball, enjoying a nap, going to the beach, having some cheese, or snuggling up close.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

The best rendition of this song I've ever heard...

"Feelings"

Published (without permission) is a poem I recently came across. It was written by my little brother (now 34) when he was barely 9 years old. It is entitled "Feelings," and unfortunately is about yours truly. I still love ya, little bro. :)

Please to enjoy...

"Feelings"

Today I feel angry,
and maybe even dumb.
But I certainly feel astonished,
because my sister is a big fat scum.

Though I've been sad and glad and bad,
and my sister really makes me mad.
But when I come home and she's very shocked,
I get socked.

And she likes to be very bad,
she might just like me a bit or a tad.
I really don't like my sister so much,
but she needs a brain surgery or something or such.

Procrastination

This week is officially National Procrastination Week. Once again, I'm so ahead of the curve, because I didn't really do jack crap last week. Good to know there are US holidays (albeit unofficial) that celebrate slack. And we wonder why multi-billion dollar contracts (Boeing) get awarded to foreign companies.

Stephen understands

I'm glad to see that Stephen Colbert treated last week's 3-hour Starbuck's closure with the level of indignation it deserved.

In the words of Chris Rock, I don't condone it, but I understand.

Update: Arrgghh...YouTube took down my link. Here is the same link on the Comedy Central site. Enjoy!

Mr. Preston and the City!

Yep, the full length Sex and the City trailer has been released! Yay! And the best part? Mr. Big (the original McDreamy) has a last name. And you know what it is? My last name. Ha! I suppose I could officially refer to myself as Ms. Big now. But people might think it refers to my thighs and that would make me sad. :( Anyway, I digress.

The clips that have previously been released of the SATC movie so far have made it look like a tacky crapfest that I would have to watch because I'm a diehard fan, but certainly not enjoy. But I have to say this trailer looks pretty freakin fanstastic. I sooooo can't wait until May 30th!

Fishes & Frog

My excitement for this afternoon consisted of changing out the gravel and adding a "bubbler" to the small three gallon aquarium that sits on our kitchen counter.  It was truly entertaining. Truly.

To be honest, this aquarium has been sort of a pain in my butt since we (we meaning I, much to my husbands dismay) got it in October. A smaller tank requires much more work than a larger tank because the water can go bad so quickly. Plus we bought a first round of fish from a chain pet store that quickly died. My stepson dubbed the first round of fish, Jerry, Elaine and George. Then we got a small frog, Kramer. Within days George apparently got pregnant and subsequently died. And I think Elaine may have eaten part of Jerry, not sure. The only remaining part of the original "cast" is Kramer, the frog. Kramer likes to sneak up on his tankmates and ram them with his head. He has killed off several fish this way. The team in there now seems to get along, but we shall see.

Speaking of the frog, he is apparently a big fan of the "bubbler." He has spent the majority of the afternoon backing his butt onto the bubbles, swimming away, then repeating. Seems like good times.

Nothin' Says Lovin' Like....

An IPhone!  It would appear I've officially drunk the kool-aid on everything made by Apple Computers.

To celebrate our one year wedding anniversary this Sunday the 17th, my husband and I got his-n-hers matching 16GB IPhones. While, clearly gadgets are totally romantic, I have to say I was a bit skeptical at first. For one, there will probably be a new version out next week, right? For two, wouldn't it be more phone than I needed?  No way! This phone literally does everything. I bet it could balance your checkbook, while simultaneously giving you a pedicure and solving global socioeconomic maladies! Yep, it's that good. It is like the Mother Theresa of phones. But shiny and not dead. Seriously, the only way this phone could get better is if it had a GPS cupcake finder. It's a girl thing.

Air travel and a BJ

Lately I do so little flying that I decided to upgrade to first class yesterday on my flight back to Seattle. Believe it or not, even though I used to travel for work quite often - it was always within California, so yesterday represented my first ever first class trip. So now I sorta understand what all the fuss is about. Basically, flying first class means they treat you the way you should be treated on an airplane anyways. The extra leg room was nice, the free alcohol didn't hurt, but what impressed me most was that the flight staff treated you like...oh, I dunno....a human.

Oh, and about the BJ. As I was killing time walking around SFO, I saw the actor, BJ Novak. He plays Ryan on the Office, and also writes/produces for the show. He's actually much cuter in person, although I was tired. I wasn't quite sure it was him, but a few moments later, three of us quickly decided it was, indeed, BJ. Although you sort of have to watch your use of that term in the San Francisco airport, because multiple heads whipped around with curiosity at the mention of BJ.

You could do worse...

Watch this Sarah Silverman clip to see what I mean. She cracks me up.

Diarrhea caveman

Well, Pepto Bismol has done it again. Their commercials never cease to amaze/sicken me. I'm always left with a big sense of "WTF was that?" Effective ad campaign? Demented and sad? Your guess is as good as mine.

If you haven't seen their commercials, check out YouTube. As of this morning, there are 178 entries under "Pepto Bismol Commercials." The commercials I remember most include an amazon woman (think attack of the 50 foot woman - with diarrhea), singing and grabbing her buttocks while crashing through buildings. Then there was a rap about nausea, heartburn, indigestion with coordinated dance moves resembling the YMCA dance. Yesterday morning, while trying to wake up over a cup of coffee, Pepto had a commercial with a bearded scruffy man (I shall dub him diarrhea caveman) singing unintelligibly about his butt disorder. I have added him to my short list of disturbing commercial images, right up there with the singing Quiznos rodents.

Presidential Proliferation

Is it just me, or is anyone else sick of the constant (and I do mean constant!) deluge of presidential race coverage on television? Personally, in the age of reality tv, instead of endless debates, I think they should switch to a format that is somewhere between the show Survivor and The Biggest Loser. Have a challenge each week, then vote somebody off the proverbial island. Last man (or woman) standing wins, and in the meantime you see what they're really made of, not the publicity-spun personalities you see now. I'm just saying.

If, like me, you're still not sure who you'll likely vote for come November, a friend of mine had this great link on her blog to an online quiz that lets you enter your feelings on various subjects, then tells you which candidate most resembles your personal stance. To no surprise, it showed the top two dudes I had in mind anyway. Yep, I said dudes. Not a fan of Hillary, even though I'm a chick and supposedly all chicks are supposed to be united on her behalf.

If the presidential quiz gives you a headache, the same site has a quiz to see if you're a hypochondriac. :)

Oh so creepy and disturbing

The gals over at Jezebel.com have a post about one of the creepiest and most disturbing diseases I've ever heard of. So I thought I'd share with y'all!

You're welcome! :)

Mysterious Magenta Fibers Crawling Out of Your Skin? You're Not Alone!

Oh so slippery Stefanie

This weekend, the family and I headed out to the hilltop golf course near our home for a lovely Sunday brunch. The Calcutta Grill puts on a lovely spread for brunch. Yes, I know that a place named after an impoverished city doesn't sound like it would be too tasty, but then again I hear Ethiopian food is quite good and isn't most of that country starvin' marvin? Anyway, I digress.

As I casually strolled back to sneak a few more gargantuan prawns from the seafood tray, all of a sudden I'm on the floor. Someone at the table next to me gasped. Thanks lady, that helped my overall sense of mortification. I quickly got up, pretending everything was cool, as if I'd meant to do that. When I got back to the table I noticed the floor where I fell was wet. No, it wasn't from me. My husband tells me the floor was wet before I fell. Ahhh, now I feel a bit better. My knee is hurting, but at least I know that falling wasn't 100% due to my clumsiness. Errr...not that I'm necessarily clumsy or anything.

I wanted to pull up my pant leg to see if my knee is bleeding, but then I remember that the reason I wore pants (and my ultra-fabulous black patent-leather boots) was that I hadn't shaved my legs in about a week. Hmmm, pant leg stays down. Then I notice my ring finger is starting to swell. I take off my wedding rings because I don't wanna be one of those people that has to have their rings cut off in an ER or something. Although I suppose that would be a good reason to get new rings and/or more rings, but again I digress.

After brunch we head home, I change into sweats, and watch the Patriots game on tv with my husband. It occurs to me that I must be getting old, 'cause when I fall, not only am I mortified, but I skin my knee and bust my finger. When the football dudes fall down (plus have hundreds of pounds of other dudes piled on top of them), they bounce back up and then smack each other on the head. Maybe that is why they get paid the big bucks.

How to look good naked?

I say dim/no lighting and standing far away from a near sighted partner, but that's just me.

But seriously, there is an actual show called "How to Look Good Naked" on the Lifetime channel. It is hosted by Carson Kressley, previously with the show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, who heaps praise on the women as if....well, as if he were actually attracted to women.

So far I've only seen two shows, and they seem to sort of follow the same format. The woman meets with Carson, she drops trou (just bra and panties at this point), and in a 3-way mirror they go over every part of her usually lumpy body. He tells her how absolutely fabulous she is, and usually there is some crying. Then they have a line up of other chicks in their bras and panties, ranging in sizes and lined up according to size. The main girl places herself in the line up according to what size she believes herself to be. She is always way off and assumes herself to be bigger than she is. Then Carson takes her to sit down and mortifies the livin crap out of the woman by showing her that he previously projected her bra and panty clad picture on the side of a building (seriously, a building!) and asked passersby on the street to critique her figure. I keep waiting for someone to lean over and strangle Carson, but that episode has yet to air. Anyway, usually the people on the street have flattering things to say, much to the woman's surprise.

Later in the show comes underwear shopping, clothes shopping and usually some kind of makeover, all leading up to Carson asking the chick to take nude photos as a testament to her new self-love. Tasteful, but nude. I'm not sure why the last step is necessary, except for the naked thing is in the show's title and all. But if you just got done going shopping for new undergarments and clothes to disguise your figure and hide your nakedness, why is nakedness necessary?

At any rate, the show is sort of fascinating. I'm intrigued by their choice of host, but figure women would rather get naked in front of Carson Kressley, than if the show were hosted by Danny Bonaduce or something.

Absosmurfinlutely!

Apparently Smurfs are turning 50! Whaat? I thought this cartoon came out when I was a kid. I guess it did, but the concept of Smurfs has been around 50 years! That's just crazy.

And now an animated feature film is in the works. Want to know what's new with movie Smurfs? Chicks! They found that after all these years, Smurfville, or whatever that town is named, needed more girls. Hmm. But since Smurfette was the only female to be found, does this mean some little blue dude(s) finally knocked her up? Was there a Smurf equivalent to immaculate conception? We shall have to wait and see.

Oh yeah, Season 1 of the Smurfs is apparently now out on DVD. If I ever get pneumonia and am hopped up on codeine cough syrup or something, I could totally sit through all 345 minutes of that boxed set. I'm just saying. Don't judge me.

For the best list of rejected Smurf names ever, check out this site.

Love

Otherwise known as: Why I love my husband even though he apparently intentionally neglected to bring me home any schwag from the CES conference in Vegas while I laboriously held down the homestead (homestead sounds sorta Laura Ingalls, doesn't it?).

Although I've been married less than a year, every now and again I'm reminded of more reasons why I love the man I married. True enough, some days I want to smack his head, but if I didn't, that would mean I didn't care, right?

If you have an aversion to gushy stuff, read no further.

Five of the reasons I love my husband today:

1) He makes me laugh every day. Sometimes it is with him, sometimes it might be at him, but he makes me laugh. This is important. You should laugh at least once every day. If you can't, you are taking yourself way too seriously. Oh yeah, and his jokes can be as inappropriate as mine. That is a skill.

2) He puts up with my quirks. I know this may come as a shock to some, but I can be imperfect at times. My husband knows this and loves me anyway. Either that or he is very convincingly tolerant.

3) He makes me breakfast. I know this seems minor, but I was never much of a breakfast person because the thought of cooking first thing in the morning was not appealing. However, my husband, almost every single morning, gets up, lets the dogs out, starts the coffee, then comes and wakes me up before he starts making eggs, etc. While I almost always do the cooking for the remaining meals, it is a definite luxury to not have to do anything in the morning until after I've had my coffee.

4) Gadget-o-philia by association. Anyone that knows my husband knows that he is obsessed with gadgets. Any new gadget that involves music, Apple computers, Ipods, etc., he is all over. Why is this a benefit, you ask? Inheritance. You see, I inherit all his hand-me-down gadgets. The secret is to let him feel as if I'm doing him a favor by taking them off his hands so he can buy the newer, bigger, shinier, more memory version. This also should serve to soften the guilt I'm hoping he feels when he spends a few hundred dollars on the newest gadget. I'm figuring his ITouch Ipod should be mine in the next week.

5) He buys me diamonds. Ha ha. Bet ya thought I was going to say that, didn't you? There are many reasons I love my husband, but diamonds are not a reason. Not that there is anything wrong with buying me diamonds, but I love him most for his warmth, his candor, his integrity, his humor, and the list goes on.

Next time you are on the verge of an argument with your spouse or loved one, stop a second and think of all the reasons you love them. If that doesn't work, smack his head. That means you care.

Old

Nothing reminds you that you're slowly descending downhill into middle age like a perky 19-year old Sephora salesgirl referring you to an under eye product labeled "industrial strength concealer." From the sound of things, if this didn't work, my only remaining, albeit cheaper, option would be a brown paper bag over my head.

Now I love, love, love the Sephora store, don't get me wrong. But would it kill the salesgirls to kiss up to me just a tad? The Clinique counter girls already lost my business by incorrectly aging me in my 40s. Why they would venture to mention I might be in my 40s, when clearly I am in my beauteous 30s, is beyond me.

It doesn't seem that long ago that I was in my 20s. My beauty routine consisted of taking off my make-up or using moisturizer only when I felt like it. Washing my face in the shower. Never using sunscreen. You get the general drift. Nevertheless, I used to get comments at least once a week on my skin. Strangers on the street would tell me what beautiful skin I had and what a gorgeous shade of porcelain (much nicer term than pasty, by the way). I'd get asked what products I used and told how lucky I was.

Apparently those days are over. Now I get referred to "industrial strength concealer" to cover the big brown bags under my eyes. I have to admit to buying the product and trying it. While it does help, nobody will confuse me for being in my 20s. I suppose I can live with that.