PSSWR Photo Album!

Note Greg in the background











Gus













What a Betty!


Rusticana!

PSSWR wrap up

*sigh*

I need to move....

PPPSSSSWWWWRRRRRR!!!!!

Just lettin' y'all know that the MidnightMargarita Girlz are gone to PSSWR!! The Point-Something Sexybitches Winetastic Roadtrip commences tomorrow, June 17 and lasts until June 23rd. We'll be in a cottage on a lake drinking wine and other beverages. We'll also be alternately on the beach, passed out, or playing Dream Phone.

ENVY US.

And for those who were invited but couldn't come, WE MISS YOU! There WILL be future PSSWRs, and we hope you can come to those.

Have a great week, everybody!

Tales From PSSWR, pt. 5

When Wingal returned from her wretched night of forced prostitution, she threw her payment at Boobarella (aka "Pimparella"), stormed out of the room, got on the paddle-boat, and was never seen again.

Tales from PSSWR, pt. 4

Wingal slowly woke up, smiling. The night before at the winery she had met a wonderful hunk of a man who vaguely resembled Gerard Butler. As she rolled over she realized that the wine had worn off and tried to prepare herself for someone less than Butler-esque. She was not, however, prepared for. . .

This is MY goal...

And, I have to say, I would prefer THIS model....



Because, as Boobarella rightly points out, you gotta have goals!
[And I felt we needed some more pictures of... beautiful things on the blog.]

It's good to have goals

Every good business meeting or staff workshop has a goal that is set out at the beginning and somehow accomplished in some way by the conclusion of said meeting. Well, I think that PSSWR should have a goal like that. And ladies, I nominate for that goal “Getting Wingal a Piece of Ass.”

I have never met anyone so deserving as Wingal for a piece of ass. While she has a mighty might fine ass of her own, she needs a piece to satiate her womanly thirst. I, therefore, think it should be the goal of this group to finding & securing a man for Wingal so that he may ravish her in the way that she should be accustomed.

And hey, if the guest house is a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.

rant from my sick bed

I need to get this off my gianormous chest: that guy who got on the 7 flights knowing full well that he has drug resistant TB is a DOUCHE BAG. What the fuck is your problem Andrew Speaker, 31, lawyer from Atlanta, GA that you had to get on not one, not 2, but 7 goddamn flights and make all those people potentially very very sick??? I feel like shit with my annual summer cold (seriously I have no idea why I get sick in the summer) and I read this story and I think oh my god, was I on a plane with this guy, then remembering that I haven't left the state in a few months I popped a few more Nyquil Gel Caps and fell in to a dreamless sleep.

But wait! There's more! Turns out that Andrew Speaker, 31, lawyer from Atlanta, GA has a relative that works with the Center for Infectious Diseases! And not a distant relative, his father-in-law. What does he work on specifically you ask? He is a microbiologist who has conducted research on tuberculosis.

Again, Andrew Speaker, I ask WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING???

BART vs CTA

Sam my dear I have been thinking of you. Here in Chi-town we have a subpar transportation system and we often blissfully think of other cities & their ease of transportation. Today my favorite CTA blog talked about how awesome BART and MUNI are and I couldn't help remember your ditty a few moths ago.

But here, I'll let you burst the bubble of those of us here wishing we lived in SF:

http://www.ctatattler.com/2007/05/riding_the_san_.html#comments

In honor of Memorial Day. . .

Wingal thinks my (and Larry's) nephew is hot & that I should post this picture. Because in the words of Wingal, "today we not only honor our troops, but we honor hotness as well."

Pug Thief!

The nephew stole Fezziwig!! For a whole week! WTF?

Tales from PSSWR, pt. 3

Wingal, having had too much to drink the day before, was struggling with her Menards Disease when we woke up on Thursday. Jenny took off to the pharmacy to get her the medication she needed. Luckily, the pharmacist was well stocked with the medicine she needed.

Something to live by. . .

PSSWRed

Tales from Congress

As Keith, Laura, and Larry marched to the exhibit hall, they hoped for great victory. Though secretly, Laura also hoped to find some baby powder because her armor was starting to chafe.

Tales from PSSWR, pt. 2

On Wednesday, Al finally arrived. And we were all really excited, except for the Ibex. He had been looking forward to some quality time with Laura. But Al had always carried a torch for him. Not because they were once lovers, she was just a big fan of Persian cooking. Especially Ibex kebabs.

Tales from PSSWR

On Tuesday, we all woke up to find Jenny's roommate roaming around outside, looking for berries.

"hey, Urs, is Jenny up yet?" asked Laura.

*burp* "Jenny? Nope haven't seen her since last night. Said she wanted to take a walk along the lake..."

Passing

I didn't do this earlier b/c I kept crying...Judas died last week from a very short battle with lung cancer. We just got his ashes yesterday and I realized I hadn't really posted anything about it. He was a great cat, a bit of a pain in the ass, but a great cat. Flipping me off to the end.

Just a word of advice

Apparently, one should not, under any circumstance, ever let me work on your archive. Just a word of warning. I mean, heck these people are old--er, but still I finish their archive and they just keel over. It's kind of disturbing. And naturally I didn't find out until I got to work this morning. Sure I heard about the author who died, totally missed that dancing dude though. The news didn't report it. In fact, they didn't actually report the weather either, so I'm inclined NOT to watch that program again. Grrr...

In other news, I still hate muni. It's gotten worse. I can not for any reason understand why I waited over 45 minutes for an "N" on a Saturday. Heck, there wasn't even an "L" to get on and walk the 10 blocks in the pouring rain home. Man, I hate muni. No seriously, I really hate muni. This morning the scheduling was off and I either missed my train, or I waited around a long time for my train to arrive. I'm not actually sure which it was. Any bets on how long I'll have to wait tonight to get on one? I swear I will never wait an hour and a half again. NEV-ER. They better fix this bleeping, bleep of a bleeeping problem soon! I HATE muni. At least the sun is shining today, so walking shouldn't be too bad if I have to. Fortunately I'm not wearing heels again.

PSSWR Update

Wine me. I'm so ready.

Holy Great Mutts, Batman!

While we're all still so obsessed with dogs... everybody quick go register at www.greatmutts.com and vote for the breeds you think are in my dog Lila! It's the awesomist!

Bowl of plastic combs

Yay! It's picture day!! At my JOB!!

Seriously, we're having picture day. Supprort staff is trying to figure out why they need our pictures since no one ever sees us, we're not allowed to have real business cards, and none of us is smart. A few of us even have "please don't feed the staff" signes on our rectangubles. We like to foster a happy work environment.

Anyway, here's a copy of my department's group photo:

For All the Dog Lu-vuhs

Y'all may have noticed that I have a link on my blog to the "Stuff on My Cat" site, which makes me laugh daily.

As of Monday, they're launching the sister site, Stuff On My Mutt. I immediately thought of all of you and all the little doggies (and soon-to-be-big doggies) I know that undoubtedly end up with stuff on them (because they live with you guys). If I could find a decent "Stuff" picture of Cedric or Abby, I'd submit them; but I have no doubt that you guys will be able to submit pictures of your little lovies, and won't we all be so proud?!

You realize I think of all of your animals as my fuzzy little nephews and neices... weird though that may be.

132+ Irish Bars in this Town and Not a Single Welsh One

Yes, it's true. There are over 132 Irish bars in this town and the ONLY Welsh bar closed down before I got here. GRrrr... Anyway, I shall be heading to one after work tonight to make my pilgrimage with a black and tan and maybe some corned beef and cabbage too (perhaps sushi if it's over cowded and I can't get dinner served). However, as I was riding to work on the muni this afternoon I overheard the girl next to me say, "Oh yeah, so we started at 10 this morning at Durty Nelly's and now we're heading down town toward the rest of the Irish pubs. We're going to hit them all." All 123? Man, that's a goal. I probably won't get into a pub tonight at all. Naturally she said this while wearing her shamrock deelly bobbs on her head while talking to her boyfriend and friend wearing green mardi gras beads. So I got down town totally thinking there wasn't a parade, but there so was, with Irish dancing in the middle of the steet and everything. Everyone was wearing green, silly string was flying everywhere, some even landed in coffee cups and no one really cared. To top it all off there was some Scotish dude wearing a green kilt on the street corner trying to hail a cab. What city do I live in? Are we all Irish? Why can't people celebrate St. David's Day this way? It'd be way cooler. Everyone would be wearing red, there'd be a big parade with a giant red dragon, dafodils, and leeks and the rest would pretty much all be the same except we'd all be eatting potato leek soup instead of corned beef and cabbage. Damn potato famine. But since Saint Patrick was British, Welsh even, I can't really not celebrate can I? So I'm wearing the green (though I'm not Catholic), I'm going home to pluck a whole lot of clover out of my yard (clover grows like the weed it is here) and drink several Irish brews at my local Irish pub. Happy Saint Patrick's Day Everyone!

"I HATE MUNI" a little ditty I wrote this morning.

*sing it to the tune of "brother john"

I hate muni, I hate muni,
I'll tell you why, I'll tell you why.
It dropped me off at UCSF, dropped me off at UCSF
No reason why, no reason why.

Waiting for the shuttle, waiting for the shuttle,
shuttle passes by, shuttle passes by.
Says it's not in service, what the F*** does that mean?
Want to scream and cry, want to scream and cry.

Three miles from Van Ness, three miles from Van Ness,
call my husband now, call my husband now.
Wants me to call the grandparents, the 88 year old grandparents.
Thinking of suicide, rather run and hide.

Muni car comes lumbering, muni car comes lumbering,
trucking up the street, trucking up the street.
Says the tunnel's clear now, says the tunnel's clear now,
feeling like sardines, feeling like sardines.

Pushed my way off at Van Ness, pushed my way off at Van Ness,
running down the street, running down the street.
It's a bright and sunny day here, bright and sunny day here,
It was foggy at the beach, foggy at the beach.

Sitting at my computer, sitting at my computer,
finally drinking my tea, finally drinking my tea.
Thinking of buying a bicycle, thinking of buying a bicycle
since my husband drives my car, and his truck's too big to park.

Seven miles from down town, seven miles from down town,
up and down some hills, up and down many hills.
Rethinking the bicycle, definitely axing the bicycle,
I'm stuck with muni now, stuck with muni now.

How's your day going?

PSSWR... AGAIN...

So, how freakin' lazy are we? We keep talking about the PSSWR, but have yet to plan it. Back in the Fall we were planning to do invitations and invite loads of people and make t-shirts and cds... now where are we? Nowhere. I guess what we need to do is figure out

1. Are we doing it?
2. WHEN are we doing it?
3. Who's doing it with us?
4. Extraneous other details.

I would like to, if we can get at least two or three more people to go. We don't need to rent a cabin or anything; we can just find a B&B or something. And it doesn't have to be for a week; 3-4 days would be fine with me. Anyway, I just thought I'd toss it out there again; see if we're still a go or if it'll have to be PSSWR 2008.

Movies

I saw the previews for the movie "300" and I wanted to go. Then I read this review:

"Possibly nowhere outside of gay porn have so many broad shoulders, bulging biceps and ripped torsos been seen onscreen as in 300."

Now I will be taking a day off of work to see it in the IMax theater.

Cedric Cam

Yeah, this is a streaming video... or is it? You actually can't really be sure, can you?

Calling All Crazy Dawg Ladeez

Okay 'Fess up.
Am I the ONLY one who takes my puppy to dawgie daycare? Really?

Well, yes, I probably am. What does this say about me? I'm opening this up for discussion. Because I'm concerned. But not enough to stop.

Dudes, LOOK at this face:

Today's lesson:

Chuck Norris does not use spell check. If he happens to misspell a word, Oxford will simply change the actual spelling of it.

I come from the land of the ice and snow. . .

The Tell Tale Nyup Nyup...

I got to shove an old lady and physically move some kid out of my way AND crowd surf all this morning on my way to work. (not as cool as Larry's tale of the bus stopping right outside our door but that is another post and another blog) Serioulsy, what is it with public transportation that reduces people to utter retards? Don't stand in the fucking door you morons, that's what we use to get on and off the train. I actually had to grab a child (or midget) by the shoulders and move them aside this morning so I could get off the train b/c the phrase "EXCUSE ME" was not working.

Other tales from the CTA you desire? Okay, well last friday the cold killed my iPod, affectionatly named "pinicius" b/c it's pink. I was therefore forced to endure my fellow riders for the 45-85 minute ride to downtown (it's a crap shoot everyday with CTA). So about 5 ft in front of me I had three old men discussing 70's basketball in Utah. What what?? Utah? Basketball? The Raging Gold Plates? Anyway, as I tried to tune that argument out I became of another noise. One that was coming form behind me. It was unholy. There was a midget (no shit this time, not a kid, a really person, not a dwarf, but a midgit) making mouth noises. Not just any mouth noises either, but something my brother coined as "nyup nyups." ACK! She just kept making this damned noise all the way down town! She even moved over a seat, but I could still hear them. . ."nuyp nyup nyup nyup nyup nyup nyup. . ." Ryan and I used to do that to annoy each other, we ended the "game" or "torture" by yelling "NO MORE NUYP NYUPS!!" Could I yell this to a total stranger? I did a double take to make sure this wasn't my esteemed younger sibling playing a horrible trick on me, and no it wasn't. I ended up having to put my dead head phones in my ears and listen to the muffled sounds of " you know the mghfpt in the bfftpt...nuyp nyup nyup..."

And the trip is WHEN?

I'm really just posting to check that our new digs are working, but I do think we should start thinking about WHEN we might go to the universe's epicenter. My Mecca. See post below.

You know, it is the epicenter of my universe....

www.bullyhill.com

PSSWR Revisited

Once upon a time, many posts ago, we discussed the idea of going on a Point-Something Sexybitches Wine-tastic Roadtrip in June. We dwelled upon it, yearned for it, discussed the details of it, and then dropped it!

I officially reinstitute the discussion. Y'all may be employed and not have much time for blogging anymore (and that's okay... good for YOU, being dedicated employees! I'm proud of ya!), but I want this roadtrip. More importantly, I NEED this roadtrip, ladies. So, if we're still gonna do it, let's get to the planning. And if we're cancelling it... *sniff*... that's okay... *sniff* But it means I'm going to make some kind of other plans for MYself because I NEED something to cling to if I am to remain sane.

Discuss.

I Am the Doll

First, I'd like to say Hello, I'm back, and I did not run off to Barbados but am more than willing to when you all schedule the dates. Oh, and many apologies for my lack of contact. I will be posting on the Wingal blog later today and individual emails and phone calls will soon be made. I promise.

Okay, so I am the doll. I came to a realization recently and I'm going to share it. I AM on the Island of Misfit Toys, from "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." My program here IS the Island of Misfit Toys. And almost all of the people that surround me have things that are really WRONG with them. I won't go into details here or name any names, but there are definitely spotted elephants, cowboys who ride ostriches, birds that swim, trains with square wheels, and a Charlie-in-the-Box. But I am the Doll. The general mystery about the Island of Misfit Toys has always been, "What was wrong with the doll?" I read somewhere that Rankin (of the famed Rankin/Bass Christmas-program-making duo) was asked this question and gave an answer that I will now paraphrase. When King Moonracer (perhaps my advisor...?) describes the Island, he says that he flies around the world and, whenever he finds a toy that no little boy or girl loves, he brings it to the Island of Misfit Toys. So Rankin indicated that the only thing wrong with the doll was that she was unwanted... unappreciated... unloved.

I am on the Island of Misfit Toys. And I am the Doll. There's nothing REALLY wrong with me, but I'm not fitting in with the other Misfits here as a result of there not being anything really wrong with me and, therefore, here on the Island, I am unappreciated, unwanted, and unloved. I always used to feel sorry for the doll. I mean, she must have known there was nothing really wrong with her... she probably looked around at misguided cowboy and defunct train and the not-terribly-ambiguously-gay Charlie-in-the-Box (hmm... it explains why he was "in a box", doesn't it?). And, vexed and frustrated, she probably secretly railed within herself, "I AM NOT LIKE YOU GUYS! I'm not screwed up! I'm not broken! I'm not weird or in denial! I'm not LIKE you! But I'm stuck here, surrounded by you! AAAARRRGGG!!!"

I know that's what she sat there and thought sometimes... because I am the Doll!! And, as Yukon Cornelius says of Rudolph and Hermie, "Even among Misfits you're misfits." I am a misfit among the Misfits. I'm the one who doesn't have anything wrong with me. I think they know it. And so I am unloved, unwanted, and unappreciated. I am the Doll!!

*SIGH*

Merry Christmas Cookie!

So my sister, in her infinate luck, was on t.v recently. You might have seen her since it was on like um CNN? Oh sure, this stuff never happens to me, just her. Poor me. Lucky her. My life sucks. So there she was, out of a job, forced to move back in with mom and dad, so what does Cookie do? She joins the church choir. La de da you say? Humph! Well, so she joins the choir, former President Ford dies and guess what church he gets burried in? My parents' church. So Cookie got to sing for Ford's funeral after some extreme background checking by Secret Security! She was so close to political power she could have spat on it! And it gets better. She was the last choir member in. She sat in the FRONT ROW. The front row. THE FRONT ROW!!! She made the news. She made the paper. She may be holding down 2 part-time teaching jobs, but she's been on CNN and in the Grand Rapids Free Press. My claim to fame is that I know her and that the priest who performed the funeral married my husband and I. Oh the thrill. I wonder if I would have been a security threat, you know, being a rabid librarian from the west coast and all? Worst thing is, I'm going to be hearing about this for the rest of my life. Every chance she'll get she'll just slip it into conversation. She'll be 98 in the nursing home and I'll be laying next to her in my cot (because I'll be 102 and I'm pretty sure at that point I won't be doing much of anything) and she'll be rambling on about how she got to sing for Pres. Ford's funeral. This may be the only thing she'll remember at 98 and I'll be like "Hey you old bat, stop with the funeral story. Why are you telling me anyway? I don't know you!" (I'm also assuming by the time I'm 102 I'll be pretty senile myself). Oh God. I can barely co-exist with her for 3 days without fighting with her. If I have to room with her in the nursing home I might just consider "adjusting" her medication. Maybe that's not such a good idea...the nursing home thing anyway. Yeah, I think I'd like to keep my sanity. That's a good plan. I'll have to remember that if I live to be 102 I'll not be rooming with my sister. But then who knows what crazy I'll get. I don't know why I'm suddenly worried about this. Maybe my husband will be alive still? Better make him cut back on the fat if I don't want to room with Cookie! Although Cookie is better than any Heather I might ever get!

Would My Dog Eat This?

Okay, so my mother left a home decorating magazine for my viewing pleasure when she left after the holidays, and upon finishing my perusal, I happened to flip it over to the back cover.

What I saw was...whatever this horrifying thing is that has attached itself to this poor, otherwise relatively attractive woman's neck.

Ahem. Let me read you a bit from the ad:

"I saw a gorgeous sunset that reminded me of some yarn I had been given years ago. With my Janome Xpression needle punch felter, I turned my memory into something unforgettable."

Yeah. No shit.

Okay, first of all...wha-, I-, ya-, nrgh-

Okay.

Do sunsets resemble multicolored barf with unidentifiable fuzz and the half-digested remains of strangely colored bumblebees interspersed among the chunks in your necks of the woods? Because they certainly don't here in the great Southwest.

And even if they did, we certainly wouldn't be inclined to tie them jauntily around our necks.

I feel bad for this woman. Her modeling career really doesn't seem to be going all that well.


Oh well. I'm off to purchase my new Janome Xpression needle punch felter. Next year's Christmas presents are in the bag, baby.

Merry Christmas bitches

Since we're becoming the crazy cat/dog ladies, I felt I should post "Christmas with Bob." Bob is gone now, but he always loved a well lit tree.

Merry Christmas to my bitches! And a Happy New Year!

Lounging Lila

Ladies...Gentlemen...Larry...
Meet Lila, the newest Midnight Margaritas puppy pal.

Sincerely,
Jenny "Joining the Pet Club One Pet at a Time" Dehonga

Pepe's Lounge

How is it possible we didn't know about THIS WEBSITE???

Flipper, Merlin, and Satan

I really don't want to be the one who keeps posting here, but I just ran across some of the most facinating trivia and I thought I would share it with all of you.

First of all did you know that the original dolphin Mitzie who played "flipper" in the movie got paid $1 per day? I find it really interesting that they paid HER since there was no internet and she couldn't exactly walk into a grocery store and buy some...I don't know...fish? This is particularly interesting as I think the fisherman owner of Mitzie was also paid. This bring up a question I have...can a dolphin have a bank account? Why a dollar a day? And what would a dolphin shop for if she were able to? I'm going with a shark gun on that last one.

Second of all, I found another Medieval Musical: "Merlin" oh yes, 1983 at it's finest. It includes a black panther that gets turned into a girl and a fabulous song "Satan Rules". So now we have a choice for medieval congress: "Dragons the Musical" or "Merlin the Musical". I wonder if we could perform both? I really wish you all could see the BeeGee'sesque Merlin on the cover of the book! It's precious. Simply precious.

Better the Crazy You Know, Than the Crazy You Don't

Okay, it's finally getting to me. If I hadn't had to ride home sitting next to the guy who smelled supiciously of skunk or just WAY too much coffee I probably wouldn't be complaining, but I did and so I am. So I got to the elevator this morning and I pressed the button to no avail. This guy shouts from the other elevator "hey, here's one!" and I thought "how nice." Well, it turned out the good samaritan was CRAZY. Yes, he's off to the law library to print something out and then he's going to disbar some laywers and let me tell you, he was way too emphatic about it to be sane! Oh! How I miss the days of Bruce White "hi...this is... Bruce White...Can you..uh...tell me if...uh..Baking Soda Frog Man has been..uh...cataloged yet?" And then he'd call back every 2 hours for the next 3 days asking the same damn question!! The man sounded like he'd had a stroke, but it's just the LSD overdose. Did I mention he was allergic to the sun and never left the house? Now I'm in a city full of them. They lurk around outside and they see me coming. Oh yeah. I must look like a nice person or something. I try not to make eye contact. I hold my breath so I don't have to smell the b.o. or the urine, but they talk to me anyway. Can't avoid it. Light rail passes are a buck fifty. Hang outside Starbucks long enough and you'll get ten times that. Man. I'm just dreading going home tonight!

I WANT ONE!!!!

Did any of you know about this?! It is AWESOME! And it SINGS!!!

Well... all my Christmas shopping is officially done...

Vending Machine Madness

So blame in on the cold, blame it on the lactose intolerance, blame it on whatever you like, but I just finished counting all the chip selections in our vending machine at work.

Did you know, out of 15 chip selections 10 of them were cheese? Is there a problem with this country? 10 out of 15 are cheese. There isn't even a plain potato chip in the bunch. There's the jalapeno chip, the barbeque chip, the sour cream and chive, the sun chip, and the steak chip. Is there a reason we need 3 slots for Doritos? 2 for cheezits? A chili cheese fito? And so on and so on? What the bleep? What's with the cheese man! It's not even good cheese! Okay, I'm a professed cheese snob and I don't actually eat chips, but if I did I'd be hard pressed to find one in that vending machine I wanted! Fortunately the ratio of nonchocolate to chocolate in the vending machine is 4 to 6 which is more than fair considering all the bleeping cheese!!! I didn't say it was very good, the candy, it was just not all chocolate which is a good thing. Like I'm going to eat some stale old chocolate when the sour jolly ranchers are all smushy and melted together. Can you imagine the state of the chocolate? Not good. Not good at all and I'm not very fond of chocolate either so I pretty much avoid it at all cost (unless it's German, or dark chocolate, or has some hope of being good!).

I feel better now. Thank you all for being there in my time of outrage.
Cheese Out.

OH. MAH. GAH.

mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload

This website is like removing the cake part and eating too much of the frosting and then passing out from the sugar coma that ensues. But I love it.

(And, FYI, Wingal, I have suspicians that the person behind the captions may be our long-lost Maweah.)

"Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beatloaf. I hate meatloaf."

And by "meatloaf", I mean work. And by "hate" I mean "I am mildly annoyed at coming in after 4 days off and the look on my pugs faces this morning when they realized I was going to work today was enough to make you cry."

So, how has everyone else's post-turkey haze worn off? How are things now that you have wiped the last of the crusty stuffing and cranberries from your face?

Hey! Let Me Give You a Little Thanks!

Hola, ladies! Happy Thanksgiving! I wanted to post some delicious food pictures before you got here, but of course this morning I can't post pictures at all for some reason. But I've got my mimosa in front of me which is of course much better than a photo of a mimosa, and I'm feeling thankful. (P.S. I'm Jenny)

Thanksgiving Dinner, Blog-style

We desperately need a new posting and I realized that a week from tomorrow is our national feast holiday. So, I'm inviting you to Thanksgiving Dinner on our blog. I'm bringing broccoli/cheese casserole and pumpkin pie, because they're really the only things I'm capable of making. I'm also going to bring my insecurity issues as regards my dissertation and a refusal to get along with at least one person, so that everyone else feels like they're walking on eggshells. I think that person will be Fezziwig who, though a dog, has personish tendencies and will undoubtedly grovel. Next?

Alright. I'll be there with the Grand Marnier Cranberry Sauce, the sweet potato gnocchi in brown butter, and a bottle of Three-Buck Chuck. Also, I'll be bringing the half-baked, misinformed, drunken political ramblings and a sense of righteous indignation about the American consumerism that plagues the holiday season (which I will mainly discuss in between telling everyone about the awesome electronic gifts I found for my parents and the sale decorations I picked up at Cost Plus). Additionally, I will probably take Fezziwig's side, but secretly, so relations will still feel unbearably awkward and no one will be quite sure where the alliances lie.

My mom. She will do the dishes. Why? B/c she has a dishwasher.

"The Angry Electorate... Unleashing Sweeping Change"

Ah, Election Tuesday. Brian Williams is in excellent voice tonight and every channel is covering the elections in flamboyant style. They're turning the elections into a thing deserving to be memorialized in Shakesperean drama. No rock will go unturned... no point of minutia is too small! Does it bother anyone else that one night every two years the media spends time covering our government in a disturbingly thorough way but spends most of the rest of the year talking about Madonna adopting an African child or issues like abortion and bird flu, which have no answers? That bothers me. It bothers me that our country is broken. Our government is broken. And these things aren't broken beyond repair and they haven't been broken by the American people; they've been broken by the career politicians that Americans blindly trusted and voted into office; they've been broken by the divisive tactics of people like Karl Rove and his ilk. None of this has to do with Democrat or Republican, it has to do with spending more time finding commonalities, not focusing on our differences.

I think I'm ready to be Swiss. At least they have hot chocolate.

I don't want this to instigate a full-on political discussion, as this blog is meant to be anything BUT serious. But I just can't help but reflect on my country today... and rejoice in the fact that in just a few short hours all of the miserable, mud-slinging campaign ads will be a thing of the past and I can start crying over Hallmark commercials again and thinking about the pleasant time of the year that comes after this misery. And let me encourage you all to give to "Toys for Tots" this year... last year they only got enough donations to give to half of the children they wanted to, and that makes me sad. 'Tis the Season.

"Dragons: the Musical"

So let's face folks, there's a lot of people interested in the Middle Ages out there and not all of them have taken the time to, um, do any research on the time period. Sure they've seen "Braveheart", "Camelot", "Willow", and "Legend", but have they ever picked up a book that wasn't fiction? No. Not really.

So there it was, the script of "Dragons: the Musical", staring me in the face. At first I only caught the word "Dragon" which naturally peeked my interest. So I took it out of the box and started flipping through the crumbled and well used pages. The first thing my eyes alighted upon was the word "Charelmagne" as king of the play, the second was "Lancelot", and the third was...and get this..."Cat". Yes there is a part for a singing/talking/and interacting cat in this musical. A musical called "Dragons". Man, what do you do with that kind of information? First thing I thought was "Wow, I've never heard of it, it MUST be really bad." The second thing I thought was "Charlemagne and Lancelot in the same play? Really? They lived 300 years appart at the very least." And then I thought "Wait a minute Lancelot is a figment of some french dudes' imagination so it doesn't really matter where and when he gets placed so it must be okay, right?" And then I thought "Oh what the heck, this is gold! I can't wait to read this thing!!"

And now, dear friends, I impart this wonderful and delightfully corny information on to you--medievalists and non-medievalist alike. It's just too precious to keep to myself. Perhaps it is an excellent play. Perhaps it was underappreciated in '80's and is in need of a serious revival. Perhaps someday, someone will go: "Wait, a singing cat? Really? Gosh darn it all, this play is FANtastic! Let's get a troop together and start touring!!" Besides, I know the PERFECT french dinosaur to play "the Dragon"...and he can sing!!

Can I get a "Hell Yeah"?

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - Jim Henson's "Fraggle Rock" is coming to the big screen.

The 1980s cult hit TV show is being developed by Ahmet Zappa -- younger son of Frank Zappa -- into a full-length live-action musical fantasy starring the classic characters.

Zappa -- a musician and TV personality who will serve as the project's executive producer -- is developing a treatment in which puppet stars Gobo, Wembley, Mokey, Boober and Red will travel from beneath the Rock and venture into the human world for the first time.

"The Fraggles didn't really get into the human world on the series, so we plan to make the movie more about the intersection between the Fraggles and the humans," Lisa Henson said.

Zappa is informally talking to musician friends about writing original songs for the movie. The original Henson puppets will be refurbished and updated for the film, with little expectation of computer-generated enhancements.

A release date has yet to be determined. Lisa Henson plans to hire a screenwriter and director once an initial treatment is completed.

When asked for a comment, Larry said:

Margarita Girls for Co-Supreme Mistresses of the Universe

There's a calendar for purchase at Borders that has a countdown to the end of G.W.'s presidency. Each day marks one day less and names an important event in W's presidency that happened on said day (and they're not flattering events... which isn't entirely surprising). And each month is a different goofy-ass picture of him and an actual, Bush-like, nonsensical quote.

And I think that we should run, as a team, for World Dominatrixes. My Latin's disfunctioning... Dominatrices? What's the plural, Larry? Well, whatever it is, let's do it. Let's outline our platform. Just edit this post to tack on more, guys. I'll start.

1. Worldwide, universal healthcare.
2. Raise minimum wage to $12.00/hour.
3. Multi-million/billionaires can make no more than $200,000 a year and the rest of their earnings go to charities.
4. A stupidity tax will be levied on all those people who voted for G.W. or who fail to use their turn signals.
5. GAY MARRIAGE!
6. Every citizen receives an allotment of wine and chocolate brownies delivered to them biweekly. It's a lot. Of both.
7. Gerard Butler, Colin Firth, Hugh Jackman, Hugh Laurie, and Henry Rollins have to be my live-in personal assistants. I'm willing to share Henry with Boobarella... a sort of joint-custody arrangement; alternating weekends.
8. Pat Robertson and his followers will be exiled to Antarctica.
9. Any home worth more than $500,000 will be broken up to accomodate the homeless along with the current homeowners.
10. We will stop the manufacture of SUVs that get less than 28 mpg highway, belly shirts, mini-skirts, and Britney Spears CDs.
11. At age 16 every person must get a job in the customer-service industry so that they learn how to be respectful of others, how to be good consumers, and how to be self-sufficient and not mooch off their parents.
[NEXT...]

12. Implement the "Hennessy for Plutonium" program with North Korea and their bouffant-coiffed dictator for life, Kim Jong Il

Boobarella's Favorite Kitchen Utensil

Do you have anything to declare?

Yes sir I am aware that my carry-on exceeds the legal limit. Oh, yes I can open my bag. Umm it's called Dream Phone. Dream Phone. No really look at the box. . no I'm not trying to be smart. Yes it's a game for pre-teen girls where you call boys and follow the clues to see who likes you. No I have never been to Tehran. No I don't know the boys actually...well no the game is fiction you call them on the fake pho..NO IT"S NOT A BOMB, jeeesus christ sir, it's a fake phone. Okay can you please uncuff me I'll show you how it works. That's a dial tone. Yeah, cell phones...no I'm not mocking you sir, I realize that you are old enough to be my dad, but you asked a question. Okay so see you dial the number on the phone and then the guy...NO STOP! AGH!! LET GO!! IT"S THE MYSTERY CALLER! Damnit, let me finish, the mystery caller calls with other clues. No I don't know who she is and if she has any ties to Al-Qaida. No, I bit that card because one time when I was playing...yes I have played this before...anyway one time when I was playing that boy gave me no help, but mocked me on the pho...yes I realize that the game is fake and me biting the card seem...well we were drunk and being silly...no sir I do not think your job is a game. Look, it's a harmless game that my girl friends and I are going to play on our PSSWR...no not PISSWAR. It's just an abbriviation...for "point-something-sexybitches. . ." no sir I don't think you are retarded. I just want to go to New York and get drunk with my friends and play Dream Phone. No I'm not going to Manhattan, I'm going to upstate New York...yes there is more state north of Manhattan. No, sir, I did not mean to disrespect you like that. I am sorry.

Now please, believe me, I do not know who the mystery caller is. I wish I did. I wish I did...

Point-Something Sexybitches Winetastic Roadtrip, '07, pt.2

Ladies- I propose the Keuka Lake wineries. Not only will it guarantee we hit Bully Hill, but these wineries are also on this lake:

1. Hunt Country Vineyards
2. Keuka Spring Winery
3. Rooster Hill Vineyards
4. Barrington Cellars & Buzzard Crest Vineyards
5. McGregor Vineyard Winery
6. Keuka Overlook Wine Cellars
7. Bully Hill
8. Heron Hill Winery
9. Dr. Konstantin Frank's Vinifera Wine Cellars

This is not the largest of the lake and therefore doesn't have the most wineries, but we can always detour over to Seneca Lake if time allows.

"Adventure?!"

Boobarella and I have a proposition to make to all of you and we're very serious about it. We were talking over the weekend about how both of us will be celebrating our 30th birthdays this winter (mine, December; hers, January). And then we talked about how we knew others who have birthdays around the same time and how it would be really nice to just have one big birthday party. Too bad it's in the winter. And that's when I said, "What about HALF birthday? That would be Juneish?"

Here we extend our invitation: We would like to celebrate 30.5 by getting together all of our groovy friends in one place. Namely, a tour of the wineries around one of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York. We'll go in May/June/July, all fly in to the same airport (what was it? Buffalo?) rent a car (or cars, depending on how many of you would like to participate), and hit a bunch of wineries, staying in bed and breakfasts, relaxing on the occasional beach, and, oh yeah, hitting wineries.

It'll be like "Sideways," only all girls and no dysfunctional-emotional crap. This advance notice gives everyone time to plan and to save up money. And yes, we are totally serious. If none of the rest of you want to, we're going ourselves. But we'd really like other people to come. We promise to play "Dream Phone." Who's in?

Dream Phone

We have to say, "Where the fuck is Jenny?" Because Boobarella and Wingal be doing all kinds of crazy shit, and she ain't here. Dude... Southwest... "DING! You are now free to move about the country... bitch." This posting is a team effort.

So, Boobarella likes teenage boys. Two rounds of "Dream Phone," and she got both Jamal and Spencer. Wingal is pissed, as all she's gotten is a glass of water with a strawberry in it and a dog shart. Thank you, Fezzi.

Isn't Bruce dreamy? In a 12-year-old-in-the-closet kind of way?

We went to a wedding in Grand Rapids. Had a better chance with the young studs of "Dream Phone," though they were about the same age as the guests at the wedding. Never been to a wedding before where we didn't know half the music. The highlight was when the Mother of the Bride asked the bride and bridesmaids: "Who's THAT slut?" No, not us. For a change.

Then we drove back on 94W to Chicago. Construction of the sort that caused severe ass vibration... Fo' Real. About 10 miles of it, that culminated in orgasmic screams of joy when the construction ceased to be. No, seriously. Instead of a satisfying cigarette, a Donette. Chocolate variety. Eaten whole. Just like my last date. Said Boobarella. Whose husband is in England. I told you she was popular with the prepubescent boys. Yeeeee-ah, bitch.

There were excretions.

And puddings. And wine. And more wine. All that's left is gin. And 1/8 of tequila. Mixed: Tequila No-Sunrise.

Tomorrow we're going to see another prepubescent boy. A dead one. Tut. Funky Tut.

And she'll get him too. *SIGH*

Write a Caption... #4

Come on ladies, let's get this party started. Again.

Papillon Senility

Abby is a 16.5 year old, eight pound Papillon. (I'll post a picture tomorrow, after I've scanned one.) She is sliding into senility, which I think is to be expected of a dog that is, in dog years, close to 113. How do we know she's senile? Well...

1. She gets lost in the front yard, and is only called back by loud clapping.
2. She can't find a treat you put directly in front of her face, though she intuitively knows if you're making spaghetti or have entered the house with fried food.
3. Owing to loss of depth perception, she jumps off of furniture like a flying squirrel (limbs out wide; a leap of faith).
4. If you call for her, she turns her head every which way and then goes to my Mom.
5. She leaves the room if she senses the presence of: a fly, nail clippers, nail file, scissors, or my neice.
6. She has taken to napping under the dining room table and inevitably hits her head on the table rungs when she gets up.
7. If you pick her up, she goes Tasmanian Devil on you.
8. If Dad puts his left hand in the air, she barks at him like a mad thing.
9. Ditto if he starts to fall asleep.
10. If you ask for her paw, with her head down she looks up and to the side at you, and you stop asking.
11. She paces from the livingroom to the bedrooms and back about 100 times a day.
12. She has to go outside and get lost in the yard every half hour.
13. After 16 years she finally discovered the fire hydrant at the edge of our yard. It's always been there.
14. She still sleeps on my bed, but only until 3:45 a.m. Then she goes out to her own.
15. She still runs around in circles like a crazy puppy... she just does it for no reason, runs into more stuff, and passes out sooner.

Puppies, Croissants, and World Peace

So my sister recently asked me what I want for my upcoming birthday and, after considering carefully, I told her homemade croissants and World Peace. Of course, she naturally assumed that by "World Peace" I meant her beagle-mix Sophie. I immediately realized that, even after knowing her for nearly 29 years, I still have no idea how her brain works. But it got me thinking. (Although not hard.) For the last two-and-a-half minutes I have been exhaustively analyzing and pondering her words ("By World Peace, I assume you mean Sophita"). And I have come to several conclusions:

1. If everyone in the world had a dog, we'd probably have a real shot at World Peace. It's hard to think about nuking your neighbor when your dog thinks of him as "Mr. Delicious Biscuit, that guy who knows exactly where my Perpetual Itch is located."

2. If Osama bin Laden had a dog, we'd have caught him months ago when he left the cave to walk his furry friend early one morning. Dogs need lots of exercise after all. Running from American troops is just one way to get it and for most dogs, it's probably not going to be enough.

3. Dogs make people we don't like more likeable. We might not like bin Laden even if he had a dog, but I bet we'd be more likely to say hello when we passed him on the street, and that would go a long way towards World Peace. (Wait - does George W. have a dog?)

4. Dogs would make great ambassadors. We'd have the whole world sharing from each other's water bowls, howling in unison, and sniffing butts together in no time. And at long last, I might add.

5. Instead of sending troops out, we should probably just ship loads of properly-weaned puppies to places like Iraq or North Korea. I think it would solve a lot of conflict.

6. My sister could probably use a ball of cream cheese rolled carefully around some kind of medication.

7. I could use some medication.

8. Dogs make great medication.

9. I really just need a dog for my birthday.

10. ...which is on October 9. Write that down.

Make it work!

So do you fine fine bitches watch Project Runway? It's on Bravo. It's really the only reality TV that I can stand for too long and it's hilarious. But the best part are these two queens:

http://projectrungay.blogspot.com/

Holy shit! Even if you don't watch the show their blog is awesome.

Pants-off Dance-off

Indeed! It is a real show:

http://fuse.tv/upload/pantsoff.php