Last night, I kicked off the Holiday season with one of my most favorite things ever: It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown!
The kids were not interested, as the time of the showing coincided with "Adventure Time" (please), so I got to watch it snuggled up with my kitties and dog, on my bed, all by myself. BLISS.
Happy Halloweener! What's your song?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Listless Mondays: A List of "No-Nos" to Avoid Before Bed.
Last night, I slept through the entire night. Sounds great, doesn't it? It wasn't. It was weird, uncomfortable, anxiety inducing and not restful due to all of the fucked up dreams I was experiencing. In retrospect, there were a few things I could have done to prevent the mess my subconscious bestowed upon me.
-Don't eat garlic before bed. I know, this should be a given, but the Little Honey is traveling and I was hungry mungry.
-Don't fall asleep with Catch a Predator Dateline NBC on the telly. The last place I need Chris Hansen hanging around, waiting to bust someone, is where Bradley Cooper hangs out in my subconscious as my "dude in waiting" for nighttime, fun-time.
-Kick the cat out of the bedroom. I woke up with a face full of hair, while being swatted in the head, in what appeared to be an epic battle for pillow control.
-Don't watch Sister Wives. Ever. That man is an epic toolbag and even though I know that dreams are not real, I would rather have dreams about Freddy Krueger using my spine as a toothpick, than being married off to that bag of douche and his posse of house fraus. His name is "Cody" for chrissakes...... Another reason to never name a poor, innocent child "CODY". Look what happens when they grow up! Nothing but a shame.
I know this list isn't long, but in my own opinion, it is filled with critical and valuable information to insure a splendid night's sleep.
You're welcome.
-Don't eat garlic before bed. I know, this should be a given, but the Little Honey is traveling and I was hungry mungry.
-Don't fall asleep with Catch a Predator Dateline NBC on the telly. The last place I need Chris Hansen hanging around, waiting to bust someone, is where Bradley Cooper hangs out in my subconscious as my "dude in waiting" for nighttime, fun-time.
-Kick the cat out of the bedroom. I woke up with a face full of hair, while being swatted in the head, in what appeared to be an epic battle for pillow control.
-Don't watch Sister Wives. Ever. That man is an epic toolbag and even though I know that dreams are not real, I would rather have dreams about Freddy Krueger using my spine as a toothpick, than being married off to that bag of douche and his posse of house fraus. His name is "Cody" for chrissakes...... Another reason to never name a poor, innocent child "CODY". Look what happens when they grow up! Nothing but a shame.
I know this list isn't long, but in my own opinion, it is filled with critical and valuable information to insure a splendid night's sleep.
You're welcome.
Friday, October 15, 2010
THEME SONG FRIDAY!
It's weekend, baby! MOTRin tonight. Partyin' til the dawn...... Well, not really, but I can pretend like I stay up to all hours and don't get up at 7:00am without an alarm clock.
What's your song today?
What's your song today?
Monday, October 11, 2010
LISTLESS MONDAYS! Forever a lady: Jennifer Lynn Petkov!
Have you met this woman yet? I'm assuming everyone with internet access has, but for those losers who spend their free time doing more important things like volunteering at homeless shelters, taking care of the sick, or raising funds for AIDS research, instead of aimlessly perusing the internets and taking Facebook quizzes, please bask in the relentless cuntery of this fine citizen!
I thought I was an asshole!
I'm assuming that this Monday may be a very bleak Monday for the Petkov clan, despite their complete disregard for self awareness and kindness to other human beings, the sting of the internet is conducive to the assault of 8 billion bees. My guess is that Ms. Petkov is praying to the dark lord for a time machine to go back and just keep her fucking trap shut. However, it would probably be a tad, JUST A TAD, more effective to hire a public relations firm to try, TRY, to do some damage control for this family.
So, being a PR professional, I thought I would do my fellow brethren a solid and compile a list of possible damage control techniques to take when in the employ of Petkov family.
YOU'RE WELCOME!
5. Start crafting a fool proof history of bat-shit crazy for this woman. Counterfeit documents illustrating much time spent strapped down to a bed with a cup affixed to her face to catch the drool. Sometimes the only defense is INSANITY.
4. Try to find some solid proof that Ashton Kutcher really did cheat on Demi Moore. Use it as a bargaining chip to blackmail the actor into testifying that this was all a poorly planned revamp of his former hit show, "Punk'd".
3. When in doubt, send her to rehab. She obviously took an overdose of her heinous bitch pills.... There's treatment for that, right?
2. Aliens. She was abducted by aliens and the person who committed these acts, were not people, they were pod people from the Planet Dickhead.
1. Draw a mustache on her, teach her to speak with a German accent, put her in jodhpurs and rinding boots and arm her with a riding crop....Godwin's Law: Everything on the internet will eventually disintegrate into an argument about Nazis.....Why should this fine piece of class be spared the comparison?
I thought I was an asshole!
I'm assuming that this Monday may be a very bleak Monday for the Petkov clan, despite their complete disregard for self awareness and kindness to other human beings, the sting of the internet is conducive to the assault of 8 billion bees. My guess is that Ms. Petkov is praying to the dark lord for a time machine to go back and just keep her fucking trap shut. However, it would probably be a tad, JUST A TAD, more effective to hire a public relations firm to try, TRY, to do some damage control for this family.
So, being a PR professional, I thought I would do my fellow brethren a solid and compile a list of possible damage control techniques to take when in the employ of Petkov family.
YOU'RE WELCOME!
5. Start crafting a fool proof history of bat-shit crazy for this woman. Counterfeit documents illustrating much time spent strapped down to a bed with a cup affixed to her face to catch the drool. Sometimes the only defense is INSANITY.
4. Try to find some solid proof that Ashton Kutcher really did cheat on Demi Moore. Use it as a bargaining chip to blackmail the actor into testifying that this was all a poorly planned revamp of his former hit show, "Punk'd".
3. When in doubt, send her to rehab. She obviously took an overdose of her heinous bitch pills.... There's treatment for that, right?
2. Aliens. She was abducted by aliens and the person who committed these acts, were not people, they were pod people from the Planet Dickhead.
1. Draw a mustache on her, teach her to speak with a German accent, put her in jodhpurs and rinding boots and arm her with a riding crop....Godwin's Law: Everything on the internet will eventually disintegrate into an argument about Nazis.....Why should this fine piece of class be spared the comparison?
Friday, October 8, 2010
THEME SONG FRIDAY!
There is something new on the horizon but I can't really put a finger on what it is or what it means.The only thing that I am sure of is that I am uncomfortably wrapped in a blanket of nostalgia these days.
I have ghosts.
What I do know, is that many things are over, but not finished. That I'm gliding into the future, but still stealing waltzes with the past; dancing with the dead and wondering when it all became so fluid, yet complicated? When did the days start to flow by with nary an acknowledgement nor really a realization that they were over? Instead of looking back at the details, the details have all been lumped into a week of facts and now, I'm old, but it is the same as it ever was?
What the fuck? When did I stop caring? When did I stop being present? How did I get here?
I have ghosts.
What I do know, is that many things are over, but not finished. That I'm gliding into the future, but still stealing waltzes with the past; dancing with the dead and wondering when it all became so fluid, yet complicated? When did the days start to flow by with nary an acknowledgement nor really a realization that they were over? Instead of looking back at the details, the details have all been lumped into a week of facts and now, I'm old, but it is the same as it ever was?
What the fuck? When did I stop caring? When did I stop being present? How did I get here?
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Fat Lady Sing-ith.
Those little birdies have big mouths and now I know it is truly over. It's been "over" for many years, but after this weekend, it will be over. No going back. Not that we want to.
I remember when Van Halen Jumped and you were my best friend. I remember flying cats, electrocutions from the beyond intended to save the one with an exoskeleton. I remember the weddings and the funerals, oh those funerals! with shots of whiskey at 10:00am. The loud and the laughter and how I broke into tears.
I remember wanting to be the piece that fit into your puzzle and the lengths I went to in order to contort myself to fit... Squeezing into that corner spot, but missing one tiny angle, and though it looked just right, it didn't fit... It wasn't right and it wasn't comfortable. It broke my heart and then it hardened it.
My hardened heart didn't want to accept the truth. My hardened heart put all of the blame on you, when it was me who wasn't being honest. My hardened heart longed to be that girl. The girl who wanted the same things you wanted, but she just didn't exist, not within the confines of my hardened heart. My hardened heart went on a campaign to disregard your tender heart. To destroy the tender heart. To make your heart as hardened as itself.
My hardened heart was a complete asshole.
I'm so sorry.
In a few days, it will truly be over. In a few days the rest of your life begins. In a few days you will know such great joy, that thinking about it, warms my hardened heart. I'm so very happy for you and so very envious of the joy that will be brought into your life, for I always wanted to be that person... but I just wasn't.
May you experience all of the happiness and joy that this life has to offer you. You will always be in my thoughts and prayers and I will always have love for you.
Congratulations, from the bottom of my now softer, heart.
I remember when Van Halen Jumped and you were my best friend. I remember flying cats, electrocutions from the beyond intended to save the one with an exoskeleton. I remember the weddings and the funerals, oh those funerals! with shots of whiskey at 10:00am. The loud and the laughter and how I broke into tears.
I remember wanting to be the piece that fit into your puzzle and the lengths I went to in order to contort myself to fit... Squeezing into that corner spot, but missing one tiny angle, and though it looked just right, it didn't fit... It wasn't right and it wasn't comfortable. It broke my heart and then it hardened it.
My hardened heart didn't want to accept the truth. My hardened heart put all of the blame on you, when it was me who wasn't being honest. My hardened heart longed to be that girl. The girl who wanted the same things you wanted, but she just didn't exist, not within the confines of my hardened heart. My hardened heart went on a campaign to disregard your tender heart. To destroy the tender heart. To make your heart as hardened as itself.
My hardened heart was a complete asshole.
I'm so sorry.
In a few days, it will truly be over. In a few days the rest of your life begins. In a few days you will know such great joy, that thinking about it, warms my hardened heart. I'm so very happy for you and so very envious of the joy that will be brought into your life, for I always wanted to be that person... but I just wasn't.
May you experience all of the happiness and joy that this life has to offer you. You will always be in my thoughts and prayers and I will always have love for you.
Congratulations, from the bottom of my now softer, heart.
Duties
I'm still here, don't you worry. I have a job, which impedes my ability to blog nonsense for all the live-long day.
In the meantime, my crush on Ralph Macchio has been restored.
In the meantime, my crush on Ralph Macchio has been restored.
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