Thursday, December 28, 2006
Every time I hear those two words it reminds me that I've yet to pop one out. I've yet to decide whether I even want one or not. I've yet to come to terms with the fact that I'm old enough/mature enough to have/handle a child. It's a scary thought!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Anyway, I enjoyed it. I usually enjoy documentaries, just like I enjoy nonfiction. I'm a believer in the world being much crazier on its own than anything we can make up.
A few criticisms:
1. I could have done without the Al Gore interjections. What does his run for presidency have to do with global warming? Why do I need to see him stroll through the post 9/11 airport security? I highly doubt he goes through like a normal American, anyway. I thought the material was good enough on its own. I didn't need Al's political opinions thrown in.
2. There's a part where he discusses the melting of Antarctica and Greenland. Very interesting, though I wasn't really surprised Florida, Manhattan and San Francisco would one day be underwater (that is if San Fran doesn't break off during an earthquake, right?). I've heard that before. What I wanted to know is how much the ocean levels in those areas have risen in the past few years. That wasn't ever addressed. Al even went so far as to discuss how much of Antarctica has melted already (the Larsen ice shelf) but never showed how/if this has affected these areas. I'm just curious.
Honestly, I think the thing that struck me the most was seeing how far behind the US is when it comes to reducing our effect on the planet. It's downright shameful. It's not as if we're not leading the way in being environmentally friendly. We're so far behind other countries. How is it that we're so darn great that we can go and take over other countries to make them more like us and 'free' them but we can't even figure out how to reduce our emissions?
In my opinion we have no right being anywhere else until we can blaze ahead of the rest and prove that we have something to offer other countries. When we're the ones lagging so far behind it's just ridiculous. I'm not saying we went into Iraq to help them be more environmentally friendly. I just think we have to have all our eggs in order in the basket before we go around 'helping' others.
I honestly hope more people see this video. I think we're so focused on ourselves, on making money at any cost that we don't even take a minute to think of how we could help the environment - how we could help anything outside our own lives. This country is so wrapped up with big oil that though we have the technology and the ability to make better cars and have cleaner industry we don't do it. It's scary.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
So for now I'll leave you with this bit o' creepiness:
It's none other than Suri Cruise. The background picture is supposedly from some clean air proposition ad - the site claims the baby looks like Suri. Interesting, but beside the point.
Is that a goofy looking kid or what?
Friday, December 15, 2006
That's right, it was time for my annual visit to the OBGYN. It's always the same thing - chat with the doctor, get checked out, get prescription, leave as fast as possible. Only this time it started off all wrong. The nurse came in, weighed me (ack), took my blood pressure, then left me to undress (bottoms only) and wrap myself in a paper sheet. Not too difficult. For normal folks, that is.
Apparently I wasn't able to master the sheet. It's long, so I attempted to fold it in half before wrapping it, noticing it barely came all the way around. This caused me to hold on tight while maneuvering myself onto the table, which caused the sheet to rip right by my ass. Nice. I got up, refolded, and did the same thing, causing it to rip again. What the fuck? The thing seemed to be a hundred years old, basically disintegrating into dust before my very eyes. Who do they make those things for? I'm relatively thin, and if I'm having trouble, what happens to the larger gals? It's crazy.
I finally realize this stupid sheet isn't going to work. I need a new one, and pronto. I frantically search every drawer and cabinet in the room while my bare ass is hanging out for anyone who might walk into the room at any time, aka the male doctor. There are no sheets. Finally I locate a new, unopened box on the floor. Do I open it? Hell yes. I got out my keys, opened that sucker, and grabbed a new sheet asap. I chucked the other one in the trash can and managed to successfully wrap the new sheet around me and get onto the table sans mishap.
Of course by this time I'm sweating in my thick sweater and panting. Great. Luckily it was a few minutes before he actually made it into the room. Whew. Crisis averted.
He decided to put me on a different pill when I described the horrible moodiness that takes over my body lately during that special time of the month. I mean it's bad. I really feel sorry for the people in my life during that week. So he writes a new prescription and sends me on my way with a bag of samples of the new pill. I'm sure there's not a generic for this one yet, so I'll have to pay more than usual, which makes the samples especially helpful.
I peeked in the bag once in my car and noticed 3 months worth of samples as well as a nice little cosmetics-type bag (unfortunately with the name of the pill all over it, rendering it unusable). The bag had a month of pills plus a condom (?) and a lip gloss (?). Lots of scenarios ran through my head at that time, none of which made the least bit of sense. I let it go. Who can't use a spare condom and lip gloss?
Thursday, December 14, 2006
I don't want to cook, or clean house, or walk the poor hound. No laundry, Christmas cards, or yardwork of any kind. It's so sad. I just want to sink into the comfy, soft, warm, cushy new couch and watch movies. I do these things, but regretfully, as they're keeping me from my new digs.
Why do I continue to send Christmas cards every year? I think they're the thing I dread most about the season. I wait and wait, dreading the thought, then finally break down and do them. They usually end up taking no time at all. And I'm not a procrastinator. That's how much I dread them. Hardley any of my friends do them. I hope, hope they're a dying tradition. Wouldn't Thanksgiving cards make more sense? Letting friends/family know you are thankful that they're in your life? Then you can get them done and out of the way before the big holiday rush starts.
Do they even make Thanksgiving cards? If so, I'm all about that next year. Get ready.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Especially the turd who asks 'How we doin' today?' That drives me totally insane. I'm surprised he asks me that anymore, since I can't seem to control the look of revulsion on my face. You'd think he'd get the hint eventually. The best thing he ever said to me was when I was wearing my surgical shoe. He asked 'When you get her off?' Her. It's a fucking shoe, not a girl. And it's held together with velcro. 'She' can come off anytime, asshat.
I'll stop now before I make a total bitch of myself. Probably too late.
Friday, December 08, 2006
So I was out to lunch with my friend who is 8 months pregnant today (also a co-worker) and she said when she was out talking to the cops (we have to have cops direct traffic because it gets so crazy) one of them made mention of her pregnancy. He gave her his phone number, and told her to call him when she goes into labor so he could deliver her baby. In all seriousness. He said he wants to see life brought into this world because he's seen so many taken away.
Is that strange or what? Mind you, he's not a doctor. He's a cop. And a Creve Coeur cop at that - really, how much death has he seen in Creve Coeur? Nice, suburban Creve Coeur? She thought it was funny. It was, a little, but way creepier than funny. Yes, Mr. PoPo, I'd love it if you delivered my baby. Hospital? Doctor? Nah, who needs that? The back of a cop car would do just fine. Thank you for asking.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
We were only out of power for 18 hours or so, unlike last time. But I feel lucky - there are still people out now. That just plain sucks. At least there's not so much worry about food going bad when it's so cold outside. Only hypothermia.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
You're not sure what it is, but it seems familiar. It's connecting with some very distant memory buried far back in your head. Groove along to the beat. You hear the lyrics, but you don't recognize them. That's not unusual - you have a very bad memory for these things. Suddenly the chorus kicks in and you recognize it instantly. Sing along. Loudly.
Doin' the butt. Hey pretty, pretty
When you get that notion, put your backfield in motion, hey
Doin' the butt. Hey sexy, sexy
Ain't nothing wrong, if you wanna do the butt all night long
Suddenly you're back in junior high. Remember hating junior high, but recognize that there were some good things to come from that time period. It may even be that long since you've heard this song. Move as much as possible in the car. Sing at the top of your lungs. Be thankful for the darkness. The song ends just as you pull into the driveway. You're giggling like a schoolgirl, trying to remember the last time a song made you that happy and excited. Wonder why it's not played more.
Later that night you decide to blog about it the next day when you should be working. Hope to pass this joy along to others.
Monday, November 27, 2006
We went to the game with friends we haven't seen in a while. We all used to go to games together after graduation at least once a year, but it's dwindled a bit since then. It was a blast seeing everyone. How they drank from 9AM until that evening blows my mind. They're a very spirited group, and always make games interesting. We even got on the jumbotron.
We also took a trip down memory lane...better known as Wilson Avenue. Both Q and I lived there for a time during college. Wilson Avenue is part of East Campus - keg party central (not affiliated with any frats/sororities, other than being flanked by them on College Avenue). There are so very many memories there. So much fun, debauchery, and even missed opportunities. A lifetime's worth. The one thing that really gets me every time we go down Wilson is the absence of the house of some very good friends. It was plowed a few years back to make room for the expansion of one of the fraternities. Shorty's boyfriend lived there, as well as three other guys, guys we knew since the second semester of our freshman year, guys who we were close to and remained inextricably linked to throughout the rest of our college years. These memories always involve Shorty of course, as well as memories of Matt, who was killed by a drunk driver. There was a spell when we were there more than at our own place. It was a place I walked by every single day; a place where friends were met, feelings were acted on, way too much Killian's Red was drank.
That house was such a special place, and knowing I'll never see it again is a difficult thing to face. At least the rest of the street is still standing, though probably a little worse for the wear. My old house is there, probably still with a cicada caulked to the living room window. I guess it added a little reality to a dark, cozy room, one wall coated with a pretty good rendition of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. We didn't get to see any of the new residents at 1513, but I hope they're as rowdy and goofy as we were. I hope they're having the time of their lives.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Now, if I can only figure some way to keep my claw-happy dog off of it...I can already see I'm going to lose that battle. At least it's sturdy material.
There are colds going around, so watch out. Both bosses are sick, and I've had to sit here listening to them snort, sneeze, and blow snot. Very gross. I escaped the stomach illness, and am thinking that kind of luck doesn't strike twice. All I'm asking for is to be healthy enough to see the Tigers play this weekend and taste the yummy Thanksgiving goodies. And see N8 & MT for dinner on Monday, all the way from Ireland. It's funny how you take friendships for granted until those friends move away. Thank goodness N8 & MT are moving back soon!
Friday, November 17, 2006
I could not be more proud.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
At least it'll all be over. And I'll be hopped up on vicodin. And I don't have to argue with the clothes Nazi here at work over my tennis shoes because we have a new HR person and she's a friend of mine. Ha! But boy, do I have a funny story about the clothes Nazi. She breeds poodles. Big, ugly, creepy poodles. That's not the funny part. Apparently she found some sort of doggie scooter that allows her to hitch up three of the poodles to a scooter so they can pull her around, aka a dogsled. She takes half days so she can let them pull her around Forest Park. Oh, what I'd do for pictures of that. Told you she was a freak.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
I woke my husband up this morning by accident when I uttered 'Oh My God!' after seeing that Amendment 2 passed, and McCaskill won. I was shocked. Shocked! I thought there was no way Missourians would vote for 2. Maybe we're not so backwoods after all.
No, we're just happy-ass backwoods hicks who are okay with cloning...haha!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
After flipping through it, I realized I already know all there is to know about the issues, and don't have too many choices regarding who to vote for (either running unopposed or might as well be). There is one absolutely hilarious and simultaneously shocking entry, however - Theodis Brown, Sr., running as a Libertarian for St. Louis County Executive. I'll type it out below. It's a must-read.
Name: Theodis Brown, Sr.
Website: col brown googles
Candidate Statement: as incumbent st louis county central committee sgt at arms officer and st Ferdinand township committeeman of st louis county, and a retired state ofc and state investigator retiree who was candidate 2002 for state investigator assoc president, and past candidate for mosers as trustee statewide candidate 1998 as 1st black running from st louis district as black male state employee, who listed who who american law books ongoing from 80s90s, 2006 last edition as sole black paralegal st louis district in legal circles, as retired state employee relation committee sgt at arms from a state agency, a retired kinloch...
That's where it ends. I guess there's a word limit for the statement, and he exceeded it. Ha. I swear, this is exactly how it appears. Letter for lowercase letter.
Just when I was considering the Libertarian party to be a good match for me, this happens. It's times like this when disassociating myself from any party makes the most sense. I mean, come on. I understand people have trouble with grammar. It's okay. Our schools hardly prepare us to have a good working knowledge of the English language. But come on. Find someone who does. We're out there! How can he expect anyone to take him seriously?
Then again, Q says he's voting for him. Maybe it's a good way to get noticed. I don't know.
And by no means is he the only one with grammatical hangups. In fact, we're actually voting on whether to correct a grammatical error in the MO Constitution itself (Amendment 7). We'd be changing one thing - "citizen's" to "citizens' ". It's moving one tiny apostrophe, but essentially changing the meaning of the entire thing. Who messed that one up? Duh. People just can't seem to grasp those darn apostrophes.
Go and get your vote on!
Monday, November 06, 2006
It was a very beautiful Catholic ceremony. I myself haven't been to a catholic service in a long while (other than weddings). At her wedding both myself and the best man were up on the altar with the bride and groom, while the other 4 bridesmaids and 4 best men were down in the first pews. It was so strange, but very cool. I only cried once - when Cootie left Dad after walking down the aisle and she was crying. After that we were both okay. Thankfully I had a hankie! I was very glad the best man knew what he was doing. I'd look at him every time something new happened to figure out whether to kneel or stand (Cootie wasn't any help - they didn't know what they were doing either).
After the wedding and pictures we all piled into a rented van to go to Forest Park for more pictures. We scarfed McDonald's double cheeseburgers (yes, I ate one - damn thing was delicious, too) and chicken sandwiches and drank plenty of beer. I, however, was miserable - my hair looked gorgeous (a curly up do), but hurt like hell. It was unbearable by that point. I made it though, though.
We got to Schlafly's Tap Room at 5:30 or so, thankfully, so I could undo my hair. Sweet relief. It ended up looking pretty good in a ponytail with all the curls, but I didn't care - having it down was all that mattered. I was a much happier girl. The rest of the reception went off perfectly, just like the wedding. We drank great beer, ate great food, danced, socialized, and had a blast. I even did a good job reading my toast, which was shocking, as I'm not the greatest public speaker. I had multiple people compliment me on it, and tell me their whole table was crying. And laughing. I didn't cry until the very end, when I looked at Cootie (even though I told her not to look at me for fear of this very thing happening), and she was crying. It worked though.
We had so much fun dancing and laughing at her reception. Above is the room where it was held at the Tap Room - it was lovely. Her man's friends are so nice and great, which makes me happy. I think having tons of awesome friends says so much about a person...not that I needed to know more about her man. He's a wonderful guy, and they are so great together. We had cousins in from Wisconsin, and at the rehearsal dinner, one asked me what kind of guy her man is (they'd never met). I was able to tell him how great he is without reservation. That made me so happy.
I swear, I am so very proud of her. She acted like a lady the whole entire day. She didn't freak out, or lose her nerve, or anything else. She was calm, confident, classy, and absolutely gorgeous. She planned quite a bit of this day, and it all went off perfectly. Totally first class. I guess I still have this image of her from when she was in college, and haven't stopped to notice how much she's grown up. She spent the perfect amount of time socializing, making sure to talk to everyone, the perfect amount dancing and having fun, and was very careful to limit her drinking so she wouldn't be wasted (not that she drinks a lot anyway). I was in awe of her the entire evening. I'm not sure I would have been as responsible and courteous as she was.
Anyway, it's still crazy that my little Cootie is married. I'm so glad we're close. And as much as I think about moving away, it's times like this that I'm glad we all live here in St. Louis. I'd hate to miss my nieces and nephew (and my little sis) growing up. They're so darn cute!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Anyway, at one point during the discussions I was referred to as 'the middle sister'. Which I am, but in a very odd way. I have two older sisters - by older I mean 11 & 10 years ahead of me. Then there's me, then there's Cootie, who's 2 years younger. So I am a middle sister, but I'm also the older child, in a way. I think I'm definitely a combo of the both. As the older child, I'm competitive, independent, and responsible. As the middle child, I'm a loner, I'm not an over-achiever, I lack drive, I lose focus quickly, I acted out quite a bit, and I'm a born peace keeper.
The group was referring to the peace keeper in me last night. Ever since college, I've been the one to keep both sides calm. Maybe it's because I don't take sides. Or maybe I don't take sides because I want to keep the peace. I don't know. Either way, I despise conflict. It makes me uncomfortable. Even if the other parties are totally okay with it, I feel the urge to step in and make everything okay.
I think this is fascinating. I've realized this need to be the peace keeper exists, but until last night I didn't really think about why. It makes so much sense. Coming from a family of four girls, it's not hard to imagine we often times disagree and get on one another's nerves, especially since we all live in St. Louis. Though sometimes with them I do take sides, I often find myself in the usual position of being the diplomat and negotiator.
Maybe I should have been a counselor, or a policewoman. If the writing career doesn't take off, that is.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
It's Halloween, once again. And sadly, I'm too old to trick-or-treat. As a kid, Halloween was possibly my favorite holiday. I didn't much like dressing up, and still don't - it was all about the candy.
My worst Halloween costume ever was a pumpkin leaf bag. I cut holes in the bottom for my legs, filled it with who knows what, and tied the top around my neck. Not a bad costume, for a kid...very, very bad for a teenager.
It embodied everything about me as a teen. I wanted to go out and have fun without putting forth much effort. Wait, that's about right for me now, too. I wanted to go trick-or-treating, but didn't know what to be. So I waited until the last minute and threw together whatever I could find. Not only was it so completely not fire resistant at all (that could have been a burning plastic disaster), but I took a ton of heat from the other kids. I think at one point firecrackers were thrown at me.
The pillowcase full of candy was so worth it. I think my dentist thinks so too.
Monday, October 30, 2006
All I can say is wow. Friday night was amazing! We had so much fun in spite of the freezing, drizzly weather. I'm not sure I'll ever get the chance to be at the final game of the World Series ever again, much less one for the Cardinals. We totally lucked into these tickets. Not only did we luck into them, but it happened to be raining on Wednesday night, the original night of that game, and it happened to get rescheduled for Friday. Had MLB decided to scoot game 4 to Thursday and game 5 to Friday, we'd have been out of luck.
I'd add some pictures, but they're too big, and I don't know how to shrink them. We stayed in the park probably an hour after the end of the game, watching the ceremonies and taking pictures. Then we walked around a very crowded downtown, high-fiving everyone. It was like a gigantic frat party. But tons of fun!
Friday, October 27, 2006
I am not going to make it through this day. Q and I have tickets to see the Cards win the World Series tonight (fingers crossed!!!), and I can barely contain myself. The only good thing about it is that my boss is going as well, so he's just as excited as I am. Seriously, it's all I can do to not leap up and shout to the world that I'M GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!
I'm sad Kenny Rogers won't be pitching tonight. I'd love the opportunity to hurl insults and talk trash to that guy...not that he'd hear me from the fourth tier, third row from the back...no matter. At least we'll be under cover. Now, if I can only figure out how to maneuver up there with my big, puffy coat, umbrella, and gigantic beer(s)...
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Anyway, I was at the humungous table of panties today deciding which pair I wanted. Not which color, mind you - they limit that. But which cut. I was checking out the sizes of the hiphuggers, my favorites, when I was approached by a rather large employee. Of course there wasn't an employee to be found when I needed one earlier except for the extremely gay male behind the register ringing out a line of people. That was a first. The only men I've previously see in Victoria's Secret are very awkwardly following their woman around or picking out a gift, which is hilarious.
But I digress. Back to the table of panties. The large employee approaches me as I'm inspecting the hiphuggers and asks me, with a huge smile, what kind of bra I'm looking for. I stopped, looked at her with what can only be described as utter confusion, and told her I wasn't looking for a bra at all, but for underwear. She proceeded to explain the underwear (as though that was necessary), then finally left. I'm surprised she stuck around, as I'm pretty sure I sounded condescending, which isn't unusual for me when someone does something horrendously stupid. I can't help it. I know it's bad.
I couldn't help but laugh as I left the store. The vulture-like nature of sales in the small boutique has gotten outrageous lately, but this was too much. She couldn't even take the time to see what I was looking at before spilling some ridiculous question meant to trap me into buying a bra. Please. What a crock.
I later allowed myself to get roped into applying for an Express card. Those dirty bastards and their stinking 15%.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
I'm pretty strong-headed about this. I'll vote no matter what. But I swear, if I even wavered a little bit, these damn political ads would be enough to make me abhor elections all together. They're out of control!
Plus, living in St. Louis, we get ads for Missouri candidates/issues AND Illinois. And with the Talent/McCaskill ticket here in MO, we're getting all sorts of national attention, as well as tons of money flowing into the campaigns, which equals more ads. They're god awful. If I have to hear 'Judy Baar Topinka - what was she thinking???' one more time, I'll puke.
The one that drives me craziest is the Talent ad where at the end, after bashing McCaskill, the ad says 'But there's more to the story...' and that's it. What the fuck? If there's more, why wouldn't you say it? If you're going to spend time/money on a stupid ad, and you have my attention, you better take advantage of that. It makes my head spin. I can't for any reason figure out why they'd leave us hanging like that. So stupid!
The worst part is both McCaskill and Talent are complete asses. A co-worker of mine (who is, coincidentally, running for State Auditor) summed it up well - it's no longer about voting for the person who is best qualified, but about voting for the least offensive candidate, or about voting for a pawn to make either a Republican or Democratic Congress. That's such bullshit.
And all this talk about the Michael J. Fox ad supporting McCaskill and stem cell research - it's hilarious. People are accusing Michael J. Fox of not taking his medicine so he looks worse during the commercial to rally more support for McCaskill and play on the sympathy vote. Please - how can anyone be shocked by this? Even if it's true, like this is the first time someone was manipulative to further their political agenda. Wake up, people!
The stem cell research opponents drive me crazy, too. The campaign against it uses www.nocloning.com as their website. The amendment has nothing to do with cloning. Way to mislead! I just don't get how anyone could be against the research. In my opinion, it boils down to this - these embryos exist. They're either going to get used for research, or be thrown away. So whether you believe they're a human life or not doesn't really matter. They're already being destroyed. Why not use them for research? Plus, I'd hate to be someone who voted against the research then had a family member or god forbid myself be diagnosed with something that could hugely benefit from it. That's for sure. I can't help but think they'd change their tune real quick.
Alright, that's enough spouting off about this stupid election. I cannot wait until it's over.
Friday, October 20, 2006
If someone would have told me in the beginning of the season that the Birds would win game 7 and the league championship due mostly in part to Yadier Molina, Jeff Suppan, and Adam Wainwright, I'd have told them to get the hell out of here.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
I don't want to choose between 'short', 'regular', and 'tall', either. I want to have the same options as guys - they get to be very specific about the length. Why is that? It's so annoying. Most guys don't give a rat's ass about the length of their jeans. Why do I have to suffer?
And I don't want to spend a fortune, either. I'm talking $50-$60 max. I know, that's just about impossible nowadays.
Aargh. Sometimes being a woman sucks.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
We pricelined a hotel and rental car - if you haven't tried this, definitely do. You don't get to pick the exact hotel, but you get to pick the are of the city as well as the star rating, which is all we cared about. We ended up at the Red Lion in downtown Salt Lake. The hotel wasn't in the best of areas, but there aren't any really bad areas in SLC. It was very nice. A little loud (the sliding glass door facing the street was very thin), but otherwise great.
We flew in late Saturday morning, got our car (upgrade to a Malibu), and drove out to the lake. It's not like a normal lake - you can't just drive up to it from anywhere. First, this time of year it's super low, so normal shorelines are pushed way back. Second, it's like a ghost lake. People don't live on the shore, nor were there any boats in sight whatsoever. We're used to the Ozarks, or the less crowded Bull Shoals. Seeing an empty lake was very odd. In fact, we didn't even see any marinas other than a very small one on Antelope Island (a nature reserve in the lake accessible by a small causeway).
Saltair, an old resort area that burned in the 60s. We had no idea what it was until entering the gift shop. It also serves as a concert venue which we figured out after seeing numerous Insane Clown Posse folks bandying about. ICP folks are scary - they paint their faces like mean clowns and wear shirts that say 'fuck' and other nice things. At one point some were wandering around outside, and two older ladies exiting the gift shop saw them, covered their mouths, pointed, and laughed. It was hilarious.
Anyway, we ended up at the
Then we checked into the hotel and walked around downtown and the Mormon Temple Square. We were accosted by two Mormons almost immediately (they swarm the place) - a blonde and a girl straight from Africa. I didn't know there were Mormons in Africa. Apparently I was wrong. Anyway, we managed to escape with two postcards picturing the temple, which we held up as we walked around as a sign to the others that we'd been approached. It worked. It's beautiful, but almost not worth being accosted. I thought later that I should have asked them if they knew any polygamists. Or if they wore magic underwear (it exists!).
Squatters. Great beer, and great food. Q and I love beer, so we decided, when we go out of town, to find good local breweries. We had a hell of a time afterwards finding liquor, but finally found a state store, which is the only place to buy it. Odd. But not bad prices, surprisingly.
We found a great microbrewery downtown near our hotel called
Wasatch. They have a beer called the Polygamy Porter - hilarious. We then went to a tourist-y area, where we got to toboggan down a mountain, simulating the luge or bobsled, as well as ride a roller-coaster thingy. It was a lot of fun.
The next day we headed to Park City, which was an hour away in the mountains. It's a ski resort, and the place where the winter Olympics were held in 2002, I think. It was really cool. There was a great downtown area, with good food and shops. We visited another microbrewery -
Then we visited Olympic Park, which was a blast. We got to zipline, do another toboggan ride, and watch freestyle skiers do tricks off ramps into a pool. Very cool. We also got to go to the top of the ski jumps, and see the track where the luge, bobsled, and skeleton are done. Apparently during the games there was a deer who jumped on the track about 3/4 of the way down, and slid to the bottom. They got him off the track and back on the ground, when he proceeded to run back up and do the exact same thing. What a punk.
Antelope Island for a while before flying home. The island is really beautiful, and we got to see roaming bison (same thing as a buffalo - who knew) and gorgeous scenery.
We went to Squatters that night to eat and watch the Cards game (yay - they won!). The next day we went to
Coming home sucked, as usual. Going back to work was even worse. But we had a blast in SLC. It's so beautiful there, nestled in the mountains and next to the Salt Lake. I'd definitely go back. In fact, we want to go again so we can camp at Antelope Island, right on the water. Then maybe go from there into Wyoming, which is also gorgeous.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
NEW YORK (CNN) -- I don't know about you, but I can't take seriously anyone who takes either the Republican Party or Democratic Party seriously -- in part because neither party takes you and me seriously; in part because both are bought and paid for by corporate America and special interests. And neither party gives a damn about the middle class.
Our country's middle class is not just collateral damage in what has become all-out class warfare. Political, business and academic elites are waging an outright war on working men and women and their families, and there is no chance the American middle class will survive this assault if the dominant forces unleashed over the past five years continue unchecked.
They've accomplished this through large campaign contributions, armies of lobbyists that have swamped Washington, and control of political and economic think tanks and media. Lobbyists, in fact, are the arms dealers in the war on the middle class, brokering money, influence and information between their clients our elected officials.
Yet in my entire career, I've literally never heard anyone in Congress argue that lobbyists are bad for America. In 1968 there were only 63 lobbyists in Washington. Today, there are more than 34,000, and lobbyists now outnumber our elected representatives and their staffs by a 2-to-1 margin.
According to the nonpartisan Center for Public Integrity, from 1998 through 2004, lobbyists spent nearly $12 billion to not only influence legislation, but in many cases to write the language of the laws and regulations.
Individual firms, corporations and national organizations spent a record $2.14 billion on lobbying members of Congress and 220 other federal agencies in 2004, according to PoliticalMoneyLine. That's nearly $6 million a day spent to influence our leaders. We really do have the best government money can buy.
But as I discuss in my new book, "War on the Middle Class," what if we all resolved that we would not permit either the Republicans or Democrats to waste their time and ours with wedge issues? Both parties love to excite their bases by focusing on wedge issues like gay marriage, the pledge of allegiance, school prayer, judicial appointments, gun control, stem cell research and welfare reform.
Each of these wedge issues is important in varying degrees to large numbers of us, but none of them rises to the level of urgency or the requirement of immediate change in public policy.
These issues are raised by both political parties to distract and divert public attention from the profound issues -- like educating our youth, economic inequality and the war against radical Islamic terrorists -- that affect our daily lives and the American way of life. Imagine the consternation in Washington if both parties had to contend with a national electorate whose political affiliation had dramatically changed within a matter of weeks or months.
In both Republican and Democratic administrations, Congress has passed and sustained billions of dollars in royalty payments and subsidies to big oil companies; pushed through a corporate-written, consumer-crippling bankruptcy law; embraced the death of the estate tax; approved every free trade deal brought to a vote; and supported illegal immigration for the sake of cheap labor.
The party strategists and savants are telling us that fewer Americans will turn out to the polls than ever before, disgusted by a disgraced former congressman. But we don't have to wait for the midterm elections to begin to engage in our new political life.
There's something all of us could do that would have an immediate impact and send a powerful message to both corporation-dominated political parties and to our elected officials in Washington. Our so-called representatives in both parties have been working against the interests of the middle class for so long that they take our votes for granted, or they take advantage of the fact that a sizable number of us don't vote at all.
So what if a majority of us decided once and for all to walk into our town and city halls all over the country and change our party affiliation from Republican or Democrat to independent? What if that sizable number of us who don't vote at all decided to register as independents? For the first time in decades, working middle-class Americans might just get the attention of our elected officials in Washington.
Our middle class has suffered in silence for far too long, and it cannot afford to suffer or be silent much longer. Hardworking Americans have not spoken out about their increasingly marginalized role in this society, and as a consequence they're all but lost their voice.
Without that strong, clear and vibrant voice, all the major decisions about America and our future will be made by the elites of government, big business and the dominant special interests. Those elites treasure your silence, as it enables them to claim America's future for their own.
I sincerely hope that we will find the resolve to face these challenges to our way of life, and we do so soon. George Bernard Shaw said, "It is dangerous to be sincere unless you are also stupid."
I'm stupid enough to be absolutely sincere in the hope that middle-class America will awake soon and take action.
Friday, October 06, 2006
The toddler became ill after having a fresh spinach smoothie, according to his mother, Robyn Allgood.
Oh my...a fresh spinach smoothie??? Could it have been the taste that killed him? If I die, I don't want it to be at the hands of a fresh spinach smoothie. I'd take alcohol of some sort, or something deliciously fried, or sugary sweet. That'd be okay with me.
Sad story. But I can't get the thought of something akin to ground up greens and yogurt out of my mind. My stomach's turning.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
We did get to go to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, which was fantastic. I think both of us could have spent at least a week there. We got to see a lot, but definitely missed some things. There's just so much stuff there. It's mind boggling to think about what all of these things might be worth, all housed in one location. Crazy. The Beatles, Doors, and Hendrix stuff alone is probably worth a small fortune.
I especially enjoyed the exhibit on 70s-80s punk in London and New York as well as the late 80s-early 90s Seattle scene. The punk scene back then fascinates me, while the Seattle scene was an integral part of my teenage years. It probably played a huge part in fostering the love of music I have today. Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Screaming Trees, Soundgarden, Mudhoney - these bands introduced me to a new world of music. Until then I'd been hijacked by pop and boy-bands.
I was discussing the movie 'Singles' with a co-worker the other day. She'd never seen it. I was horrified. She's young, so she was just a tot when it came out, so I can't really blame her. I just can't imagine never having seen that movie. It's such a big part of my generation, I guess, along with the soundtrack. I got to see the actual apartment complex where the movie was filmed in Seattle. It was surreal. I also got to see where Layne Staley last lived before overdosing - where he died, in fact. He lived really close to Q's half brother. I just assumed it was a give-in that people knew and understood the Seattle scene. I'm so old - I work with people who were kids during the late 80s and early 90s. Shudder. I'm going to have to loan her that movie.
I still get shivers when I listen to Pearl Jam. Then I remember the freak who had a crush on one of my good friends in high school and would whisper 'nothingman' under his breath every time he saw her, thinking he was scorned like the guy in the song. I can't hear it without thinking of him. Poor creepy bastard. The tragic lives of high schoolers. I also remember asking my boyfriend at the time to go with me to see them live at the Fox. My dad got us great tickets, and it was a blast. Then, I dumped him, and he sent me a long letter, mostly about how I wronged him during our 3 month relationship. Part of my wronging him included how he went with me to the Pearl Jam show as a favor, but I couldn't listen to some music he had recommended (that sucked). Please. A favor. What a loser. He all but begged to go.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
I was horrified. A gift registry for a 1st birthday party? I shudder to think of the floodgates that'll open if this sort of thing becomes acceptable. Why deal with a registry? Why not type out a gift list and send it along with the invitation? Or better yet, just include a little index card telling guests exactly what to get. Ridiculous.
Whatever happened to surprises? Or just getting together to celebrate with friends and family? Sheesh. That's nervy, if you ask me. Telling people what to buy your kid, or that you have to buy them anything at all. I'm getting so sick of registries in general. I find myself ignoring them completely. That's not to say I go and pick out some random kitchen gadget or weirdo colored towels. I get gift cards, or cookbooks, or other interesting items. Registries just leave a bad taste in my mouth.
I'm guilty of having one. I'll admit that. I had a registry for my wedding 5 years ago. We registered at JC Penny and Target. We asked for silverware, plates, towels, bedsheets, and simple things like that to replace the crap we still had from college. I can't tell you how many registries I see with MP3 players, video cameras, TVs, and the like. It's gotten out of control. I thought weddings are about starting a life together and gifts are supposed to be about helping the couple get set up with the basics.
I told my friend I'd refuse to buy off a registry for a 1st birthday party. Heck, I won't even buy my sister a shower/wedding gift from her registry. She checks it all the time! Where's the fun in that?
Wow. I sound like a grouchy old lady. I think I need a vacation. Good thing I'm going to an out of town wedding this weekend - gift card in tow, no doubt.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
So today I have a free minute, since the boss left to go out of town. We were discussing irrational fears this morning. Odd, yes, since I work at a financial firm. But we often discuss odd things. Anyway, he was reading somewhere that the top 3 fears of whatever sort of population was surveyed are 1. plane crash, 2. shark attack, and 3. being murdered. Interesting, huh? Turns out the top four ways to die are caused by 1. smoking, 2. poor diet, 3. inactivity, and 4. excessive drinking.
I'm not really afraid of dying. If I get eaten by a shark, so be it. At least it's an interesting way to die. I do seem to have an irrational fear of falling down the stairs. Not just stumbling, but all out face diving from the top stair. Maybe it's high heels. Maybe it's because I did that once, and luckily only scraped my legs and hands. No broken bones. Maybe it's like post-traumatic stress disorder. I don't know.
The funny thing is it's probably some lazy fool sitting on his couch munching on popcorn and wings and guzzling alcohol all day long that's afraid of being eaten by a shark. Now that's irrational.
Friday, September 22, 2006
An old married couple no sooner hit the pillows when the old man passes gas and says, 'Seven points.'
His wife rolls over and says, 'What in the world was that?'
The old man replies, 'It's fart football.'
A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says, 'Touchdown, tie score.'
After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, 'Aha. I'm ahead 14 to 7.'
Not to be outdone the wife rips out another one and says, 'Touchdown, tie score.'
Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, 'Field goal, I lead 17 to 14.' Now the pressure is on the old man.
He refuses to get beaten by a woman, so he strains real hard. Since defeat is totally unacceptable, he gives it everything he's got, and accidentally poops in the bed.
The wife says, 'What the hell was that?'
The old man says, 'Half time, switch sides.'
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
I'd been camping only once before, with my date after our junior prom. Just the two of us. I guess my parents must have trusted him, or me, or both. That was before my major shenanigans, so I guess they had reason to trust me. And they should have trusted him/me - we didn't do anything at all except talk and sleep. He was a good boy. Anyway, there were bathrooms, so no need to pee outside.
There were no bathrooms at this park, however, since no camping was allowed. I remember the girls huddling up and wandering away from camp to pee. It's not so weird for girls to pee together, especially those that grew up with sisters. Had there been a guy with us, I probably wouldn't have done it. Too embarrassing.
That was a great night, up until the sleeping part. We all crammed into one tent, and it was chilly. I got stuck all the way at the edge of the tent, and basically had my head shoved into the side, and got to inhale plastic all night. Not fun. No egg crate mattresses, no sleeping bags.
It's a great memory, though, one of MANY from my college days. Then I remembered that two of the people there that night are both dead now. One, the owner of the Saab, was actually killed in that very Saab by a drunk driver just after college. The other, Shorty, took her own life last year.
Death is still so weird to me, when it's someone young. I can remember both of their faces clear as day. I remember their voices, their laughs, their eyes when they laughed. How can they be gone? Where are they? It's one of those mind fucks, like trying to imagine life after death - spending an eternity in a box in the ground. Very creepy and black-hole-ish.
It's especially hard when both were people I loved very much. I had a huge crush on the guy, and he was a good friend. He was probably one of the nicest, most carefree people I've ever met. And of course I loved Shorty. She was a huge part of my life, and most of my memories from either high school or college can't be separated from her. I hope maybe they've found each other somewhere. I know Shorty always had a crush on him too, even while dating his best friend. That would be perfect.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Lawmaker Proposes Shooting Madonna Into Space
I opened it up, excitedly assuming this 'lawmaker' wanted to shoot her into space to rid the world of her forever. I was sorely disappointed. Turns out someone in Russia is lobbying for her to be a 'space tourist', hoping the media time that would undoubtedly be spent on this would be a good thing for both Russian and American elections in 2008.
I'm on board with sending her into space. But permanently. Just think - no more 'kabbalah this', or 'Lourdes that', or 'my husband doesn't like my music', or having to read about how she continually craps on the Catholic Church in an effort, I suppose, to regain some of the controversy that helped launch her career in the first place.
We get it, Madonna. You're trying, again, to be edgy and dramatic. Unfortunately it ends up being more pathetic than anything. Come to think of it, maybe this trip into space is just the thing your career needs.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Hopefully I haven't pissed anyone off, but if so, grow some thicker skin, folks. I'm just a dorky girl writing an even dorkier blog. You can't be offended by anything I say. Seriously.
I'm gonna keep trucking along. There's just too darn much crazy shit in this world to be ignored. Here's to another fucked up year!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
It's a Homedics pillow apparently designed and marketed by Tony Little, the crazy long-haired exercise guru. It's odd, yes, but I'm game to try just about anything. At first, we used it with the long chamber at the top of our heads. It was just a guess. I didn't see an instruction manual. Or maybe didn't look for one, since it's a PILLOW.
It wasn't all that great. I kept using it, but Q gave up. I finally figured out it was backwards one day by mistake. It had flipped itself around somehow (it's magical like that). It was a totally different sleeping experience. Now I'm hooked. I don't have neck problems anymore. I used to get a stiff neck at least once a month. No more! It's like my own little chiropractor.
There's definitely something to this pillow. I don't know if it's the micropedic beads or the fancy chambers, but it's there. No more tossing and turning, and it's even comfortable whilst laying on my stomach. This little pillow has somehow made our cheap-ass saggy matress comfortable. It's a miracle worker.
And besides, this guy says it works. How can I argue with that?
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wow. That's insane. As some of you may know, I used to be a minion of Scottrade, Inc. Now they've bought the freaking naming rights to the old Savvis Center! That's so fucked up. A company that won't go public instead chooses to spend it's money naming an arena. Something is so wrong about that.
I was just talking about this shithole this afternoon while enjoying a beer (or two) on the company dime. My boss and I decided that if the company was going to make us do a performance review on me, we should ditch out for the afternoon and drink beer. It gave us an opportunity to discuss our working relationship (while trading dirt about others in the company - we're two peas in a pod, really), which is always entertaining, being as I came from a company fully ingrained in Nazi practices.
One of the questions on my review had to do with punctuality. I'm always there at least a few minutes early, so this wasn't even remotely a problem. My boss, however, is completely not concerned with this issue. He doesn't give two shits whether I'm there on time, as long as I'm getting my work done. It makes sense, in an adult-like world. Unfortunately, Scottrade has no idea what it's like to function in an adult-like world. I remember having to clock in and out on our computers, and seriously getting in trouble if we were a minute late. I'm not exaggerating. A minute. It was completely absurd.
The best was when we moved to a new building (the current location at Manchester and 270) and took over the cafeteria. Management decided we should eat there, to patronize part of the company. We were allowed to order in from other companies, but we were told to restrict this activity to once a week. Blood Ray, my former cube mate, thought this was hilarious, and made it his goal to order out as often as possible. Being that we didn't get a lunch hour and were forced to eat at our desks amidst phone calls from morons at branch offices, it did seem a bit much to have to eat at the overpriced, gross cafeteria. I think for both Blood Ray and I it was one of the final straws on the proverbial camel's back.
Anyway, I had to laugh at the whole situation. I wonder if they're going to throw some massive party about the whole thing. They probably will, but only for the big wigs, not for the poor bastards doing all the work behind the scenes, earning Roger Riney all of his money. Bleh.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Since I know nothing about bikes except that I hate my old mountain bike (purchased for cheap at Target) and wanted a nifty road bike, I figured I'd try this place so I wouldn't end up spending a fortune. I didn't really expect to find anything. Q and I went there on Saturday and looked around the very small shop teeming with youngsters fixing up bikes, and saw the one pictured above. I liked its style. I don't like girl bikes at all (why do guys bikes have a bar straight across and girls don't? shouldn't it be the other way around?), but this one is kind of a combo. It's an old, french bike - a Motobecane - that's been modified a bit. It was actually being held for another woman, but since she hadn't been back in a couple of weeks, they gave it to me. My lucky day!
I love it. Not only do I look dandy, but I have to expend about half the energy to make it go as fast as my mountain bike did. I zip right along. It's not so comfy on bumps, but as long as I stick to a trail or road, it's fine. If you want a bike, check this place out. They've got all sorts of frames, as well as normal bikes, and vintage bikes. It's really cool. You just might find what you're looking for, and spend a lot less! Plus you're helping out the kiddies.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Is it ironic that a man known for wrestling angry crocs meets his doom at the barb of a stingray? Or is it nature's cruel way? Let's face it - they guy tempted fate. Many, many times. It seems fate stuck its dirty knife right in his heart.
I'm not being insensitive. I'm sure he didn't deserve to die young. I'm sure he was a fine, fine human being. But if you live a life chock full o' risk, it's gonna beat down your door eventually.
Back to the Grizzly Man. That was one creepy dude. I'm convinced he was gay, and in an effort to suppress this deep inside himself (he wasn't the most stable guy), he found 'acceptance' among the grizzlies. Of all creatures! Why not seals? Or some other prominent, yet more docile, Alaskan animal? Shit. He lived with the grizzlies for something like thirteen years. His time was well overdue. The nut even tried to change the course of nature once so the grizzlies wouldn't starve to death and eat their young - he tried to divert a shallower-than-normal river (due to a lack of rainfall) so the salmon could make their way upstream and the grizzlies would have enough to eat. Once he found out Mother Nature wasn't so easy to fool, he went back to his tent and did a little 'rain prayer' - though it was much more like a rain freak out - and it rained. What a fucking weirdo.
The best part of the whole movie (he taped himself a lot out there) was when he taped himself doing a little recap of one of the summers he spent out there. He did a couple of takes, then freaked the fuck out, calling out the park rangers, cursing them and the residents of the nearby town left and right. It went on for a good five minutes. He was only 'protecting' the bears. As if grizzlies need protecting. They will tear your ass up. Then he took a deep breath, and did another take of the recap. Hilarious. There was another time when he was SURE some local hunters were out to maim him (he was a bit of a celebrity in the neighboring towns - or a local nutjob). Someone left a rock with 'grizzly man' on it and a smiley face. He was convinced they were threatening him, and he freaked out (he did that a lot) and got all paranoid. If he wasn't in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, I'd say he was high on PCP the entire time. I swear.
He actually had the camera running when a bear mauled and killed both himself and his 'girlfriend' (who, coincidentally, was afraid of grizzlies). The lens cap was on, but all the sound was captured. Can you imagine hearing that? The guy who made the documentary listened to it on camera...he couldn't finish it. It was that horrifying. It made my stomach turn just watching him listen to it. Completely gutwrenching.
Seriously, though, I felt totally sad for this guy. He was a sad, sad man. He just couldn't figure out what to do with his life, and found solace in the weirdest place ever, with the weirdest companions. I also felt horrible when they shot the bear that killed him. I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted that in a million years. As crazy as he was, he knew the entire time he was in danger. I think, anyway, until he got so delusional he thought he was a bear. It's true. He did.
Anyway, the moral of the story is to leave Mother Nature the fuck alone. It's wonderful to admire animals and plants and what not - but let them be. She will kick your ass in the end.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
The boy above claims to be the smallest in the world, and is awaiting word from the Guinness Book of World Records to verify the information. This is crazy - he's 14 years old, weighs 10 pounds, and stands 20 inches tall.
To put that into perspective - my friend's baby (see below) weighed almost 7 pounds and was 19 inches long. Whooo - that makes my head hurt. It'd be like seeing a small infant up and walking around. That'll stop traffic.
I wonder what type of affliction he has. He looks like a little elf. Bad, NJ, bad (slapping self on wrist). He does though. He's being dwarfed by a three-year old.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Poor Chay is having some skin issues. We have no idea what is wrong with her, other than that it's not fleas. Q and I were at Petsmart getting her food when we decided to look at shampoos, thinking maybe bathing her in a medicated-type of shampoo might be helpful. We opted for one with oatmeal that said it helps hydrate the skin and coat. It cost $8, but it's no surprise - we know Petsmart is overpriced. Target, unfortunately, doesn't carry her food. Darn Target. Anyway, we bathed her in the backyard (we're south side hoosiers, remember?), then I took her on a power walk around the neighborhood, half to dry her off and half to help rehabilitate my foot. The doc said walking briskly/running would help to restore full movement of my big toe.
So, we're almost home when we walk by a neighbor's house, a few houses away. All I know about these folks is they did have two gorgeous rottweilers, then apparently traded them in for a gorgeous, brindled boxer. Very cute. They have a huge, fenced-in yard that runs right along the street (no sidewalks). I reined in Chay - we walk past dogs all the time, and though she is merely curious, usually they're barking frantically, and I try my best to avoid riling them up further. We walked past the house to the next house, where a dude (at this point, anyway) was getting out of his car, and going inside his gate - he had a chain link fence running all the way around his yard, even the front.
Suddenly, something seems amiss. I turn around, and there's the boxer, quickly closing in on us, his nose headed straight for Chay's toosh. As usual. Dogs are so...forward. This has happened before, with no major incidents, with other dogs. This one seems friendly enough. It's basically sniffing Chay, and she's doing the same. Alright, whatever. Usually, I shoo the dog away, and keep walking, and everything turns out fine. This one won't give up, however. I look over at the dude, and he's standing inside his fence watching us. The dog, being a boxer, begins to box Chay playfully in the face. Chay, however, is not amused. She growls. I figure this is getting out of hand, so I turn again to the neighbor, thinking he's about to come help me. That he's about to do what any normal person would do. He's still watching, however, and slowly making his way towards his house. I'm outraged. Someone drives by, sees the commotion, and calls out 'He belongs to that white house right there!'. Great, dipshit. That information doesn't help me AT ALL, and won't be of any use when my dog rips out the other's throat, or vice versa.
Finally I drag Chay (and the other one attached to her ass) towards the dude's house. He's going to help me whether he likes it or not. As I get closer, I notice he's wearing a St. Louis Zoo polo...the kind employees wear. I log this information for later. I ask him if I can put Chay in his fence while I drag the other one up to its house. He says nothing. He doesn't nix the idea, however, so I move on it. I get Chay securely in his fence and turn around to walk the other one home. The other one is already in motion towards its fence - it slips in the corner from whence it escaped as quickly as it approached us earlier. It did it with such swiftness and ease that I can only figure it does this all the time. Great.
I make sure it's not coming out again and go to retrieve Chayla. I open the dude's fence, thanking him profusely, and grab Chay's leash which is on the ground by the dude's foot. We walk out and continue on our way. Nary a word escaped from his lips during the entire episode.
SO CREEPY! That dog could have bit Chay, or me, for that matter. Or Chay could have bit it. Not good. And meanwhile, some goodfornothing employee of THE ZOO stood by and watched. I was dumbfounded. Seriously. What a complete dumbass. He probably scoops elephant poop.
Worse, though, are the morons who can't keep their dog inside of a fence. Maybe they don't know. I highly doubt that, as the dog moved in and out with complete ease and cunning. I'm halfway tempted to put a note on their door 'alerting' them of the problem. It's not fair that I can't take my dog for a leisurely walk without being harassed by other dogs. I've had dogs burst through screen doors, leap over fences, and escape through slats/broken fences to harass us. Chay is the most unassuming dog. She doesn't even bark. Why her? Does this happen to other people? It's maddening to be responsible about my dog while others are morons. What if these dogs aren't immunized as they should be? I pity the fool who might find himself in that situation with me. He's going DOWN.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
job offer NOTHING "sexual" u keep clothes on $150-$200 a month
i am seeking someone who can help me with a serious medical problem that i have... its both a physical/mental problem.. it is serious and NOTHING to laugh at.......... this is rather hard for me to say this---- i have a problem with touching myself and abusing myself.. i am a Chronic or a Habitual masturbator. i have a chastity belt BUT i need for someone to hold the keys for 1 month at a time... hopefully in time longer so that i can stop this nasty habit i have. I AM NOT!!!!! I AM NOT LOOKING FOR SEX...... OR ANYTHING THATS "SEXUAL"..... i have a real serious medical problem-- it is both a physical and a mental problem that i have. I WANT TO STOP, because it is causing me to be down and depressed.. $150. a month to hold the key for me and $200 a month if you massage my prostate so thats it remains healthy.. again NOTHING "sexual" from you you can leave your clothes on to massage the prostate--- if its NOT done its possible that i can get prostate cancer
Compensation: $150.00-$200.00 a month
My wife wants a maid to do some weekly cleaning around the house. I don't want to pay for a maid. So we agreed that she could have someone come clean the house once a week if the person will do it topless. The cleaning would include windows, 2 full bathrooms, vacuuming and cleaning kitchen floor of a 2000 sq ft house. If you are interested please respond with your price and a picture. We are looking for someone that is attractive and has a nice body. So please include a topless picture and one of your ass in a thong. The other thing is that she gets to pic the person but I have veto power.
Compensation: name your price
I want to watcha couple
looking for Wednesday night
Spandex leggings model=100/hr
Hello... I am a 27 year old business professional who works very hard and tries to enjoy what little downtime I have. I have a fascination with girls wearing cotton spandex leggings and shorts and am willing to offer 100 dollars per hour for a private modelling session. There will be ABSOLUTELY NO Nudity and NO S ex of any kind during this session. I want to be clear on that. All I am looking to do is feel your butt and legs during the session while you model your different pairs for me... You will be paid before any modelling is done. Here is exactly who I am looking for.... A NON professional meaning that someone who mostly does not do these things for a living.. Someone who is mostly a girl next door type and needs to have the money to pay her bills. A waitress, secretary, college student, etc. I also would like the person to feel comfortable with this and we will exchange some emails beforehand to ease any anxiety. Don't be shy to answer this if you feel intimidated or if you have never done this before.. It is a safe and comfortable way to make some extra money and you could be exactly what I am looking for.. Please email me your photo and description and situation and any other questions you may have.... Thank you.
Compensation: 100 dollars per hour