I Rate My Own Blog

......Is there a grade higher than A+? Like maybe an A+, on merit, because you earned it, PLUS you screwed your prof.

Because that's what I'd give it. A++

If I were on Ebay, rating myself as a seller, I'd be all A++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++!!!!!!!!

Just writing this blog is like screwing myself.

The Shangri-La Diet...

joins the quark as further proof for the existence of God.

I'll tell you why.

First the quark. Remember when science taught that there was nothing smaller than the atom? Then the scientists found the quark, which was quite a bit smaller. It is like once we have something figured out, God pulls the old switcheroo and changes everything.

Okay, now take EVERYTHING modern science (including the fields of nutrition and medicine) has told us about what is healthy eating. And think of the two most fattening foods you can -- fat and sugar, right?

Correctamundo.

Now, tell me one diet plan that would for goddam sure would not ever work....that would be doing something totally insane like, oh, say, drinking oil and sugar water, right?

And that is the diet. That's what you do to lose weight. I'm not kidding.

Who else but God could make a plan like that work?

Time for An Update, Motherfuckers!

I don't really have anything to say, I just really wanted to find a way to work that title in.

I feel I am so hardcore, for a Mom. Who lives in the suburbs. And buys her track suits at Costco. Then wears them to drive her son to school. And then thinks to herself "Hmm what should I do today?" The decides to rock a Costco trip. It's fucking META hardcore.

That's how I roll.

Site Meter=Bad

I don't really like it when I see someone has site meter because it acts a bit like a telephone answering machine. (You don't need to know why I don't like answering machines either, because this is about site meters, but let's just say, Mr. Boolean, it involves "me" and "acting super dorky" and "People who once admired me maybe losing a little respect because of the loser messages I leave trying to be funny and realizing I wasn't and then trying to save the situation which only makes the message weirder, less funny and generally, the entire situation a lot worse.")

But back to site meter. Why is site meter like an answering machine you want to know? (Wow, you really can't get off that answering machine, can you!?) It's because it leaves a trail. When you visit a site it tells the inconsiderate-enough-to-use-site-meter webmaster where you have been and where you are going on the internet. And I am not cool like most people on the Internet, so I typically don't remember this fact until I have left myself sandwiched between my visits to Rosie O'Donnell's blog and a Google search for Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. (My mind is complicated and it works fast.)

And that's pretty much why I don't like Site Meter.

Well Now I'm Pissed

Rosie has left The View. Thanks alot Elizabeth Hasselbeck! May your googily eyes continue to google, but somewhere else because I can't stand looking at you. If they don't replace Rosie O'Donnell with either Kathy Griffin or Roseanne Barr, then screw that goddam show and the horse it rode in on.

Also in addition to making Kelly Ripa go away is there some way someone could make Sam Champion get off my tv screen as well? I have never been a big fan of his, but the last straw for me was when he was on location in some bad weather area--I think they were expecting a hurricane, and Sam Champion, NEWS REPORTER was reporting weather NEWS, from the beach in his BARE FEET. (To make matters worse he had rolled up his pants. Remember those fuckwads, from the 80s, who'd roll up their baggy jeans and wear their loafers without socks. That's what he looked like to me). Anyway, when someone asked him about being barefoot he went off on a tirade about how much he loves the beach. Like the news story is about him and his beach love. Not the potential impending hurricane.

Please, make him and Kelly go somewhere together, happily. I don't wish them any ill will--I just never want to see or think about either of them again. No offense Sam and Kelly, you just suck.

Kelly Ripa Has A Big Head. No, Really. She Does. Maria Shriver Big. Seriously. You've Seen It. Don't Pretend You Haven't Noticed.

I happened to catch a couple of minutes of Regis and Kelly this morning. It was one of those "phenomenal" road shows, this time from New Orleans. And Kelly was helping to build a playground for the children of New Orleans thus demonstrating her intense chutzpa and pluckiness by heaving a shovel load of bark mulch. (Have you ever felt bark mulch? It's like the world's lightest substance--it's practically freaky in its lightweightedness. ) and I was just wondering if there some way that someone can make Kelly Ripa get off tv.

She also talked a while about having eaten some oysters and how she then went for two long runs. I wonder if she has heard of exercise bulimia, because it's a thing. A very real thing.

More on hyper sensitivity, you freaks*

A while ago I wrote something about being hyper sensitive and honestly, from the comments and emails I got, I think I hit a nerve. Well of course I did we're sensitive. I just wrote a little thing about how there's hope for hyper sensitives because things get better with age, and I realized that there are a lot of hyper sensitives, like me, who need some hope. So I am going share everything I know with all of you young 'uns.

Here are the things that I know from my own experience about being way too sensitive.

Some things that help:

First and foremost know that being sensitive is a very positive thing. Even if you, like me, have spent a good part of your life thinking it was a curse, change your mind. Believe that, and if you don't, try hard to operate as though you did. It's a gift that few of us receive, and I have come to think of it as a kind of talent. Like perfect pitch. You might not have an occasion to use it all that often, but when you do nothing, NOTHING beats it.

And also, lighten up on yourself for God's sake! You're super sensitive and you take things way harder than other people do. Please be sweet to yourself. You're sensitive and easily hurt. Don't call yourself fat or ugly or stupid or thoughtless or foolish. Just don't do that any more. When you do that it's like your slapping your 8 month old self right in the face. Please, if you only do one thing, do this one.

Find kindred spirits. I don't really know too many in person but I do in books. I love Marianne Williamson so much. Her book A Return to Love changed and saved my life. Read it. I recently discovered Anne Lamott . She was an answer to a prayer. Read her fabulous books, they also help.

Email me or leave a comment if you feel like it.

* See that's a joke, don't get all "Man I am such a LOSER" on me.

Who Saw the Oscars!?

How long was it? 4 hours? About 3.75 of them centring on people you have never heard of? Is that how it was? Little bit of mildly funny interspersed. The kind that produces in you one of those "oh, tee hee that's amusing" kind of laughs? Like the cute commercials do?

Was Jack Nicholson there in the front row, looking all bad, because he's such a bad boy? What exactly makes Jack Nicholson so bad anyway? Is he a heroin dealer or something? Just wearing Ray Bans does not really make you bad. And not to get too picky, but Jack Nicholson is no boy. If you insist he's bad then he's a bad man which now sounds less cute.

Who else was there? Was creepy Joan Rivers out there making snarky remarks about people? God, if anyone should talk, that woman with her horrible plastic surgery and her homely daughter has got to be it.

How about the big GENIUS directors -- were they all there holding court like they usually do?

I don't know I didn't see it.

My Oscar Predictions

Best Picture: Don't care
Best Actor: Not relevant to my life
Best Actress: Care even less than I do about the Best Actor Category
Best Director: Yaw, like this is the one I am suddenly caring about
Best producer: Motherfucker, I don't even know what a producer does
Best Supporting Actor: Please
Best Supporting Acress: Shyeahh

Let's sum up--not interested in "The Oscars" ; don't give a flying fuck who does or does not win, and really don't get why anyone who is not in that self congratulatory industry does.

Women and Children First

That's over.

You can't have equality in pay and work and education and domestic responsibilities and then expect to be treated unequally when it comes to spaces on a lifeboat.

You Better Believe I Do!

Here's me: driving along in traffic, listening to maybe one of the greatest songs ever (Do I Do by the great Stevie Wonder), but not enjoying it it as much as I could have been because Senior Stan is driving about 35 kph (umm that's like uhhh, oh it's ummm , say roughly 22 mph) in front of me.

Since I am tailgating him so severly I cannot help notice his curly white haired lady friend in the front seat. She seems remarkably agile for a senior. I am impressed. Then I got a look at her profile; turns out she's a poodle. No really, an actual poodle.

Then I drive home to my cul de sac, still have the Stevie Wonder going, and my neighbour makes some comment about how I need to modernize my musical tastes and why don't I listen to Nickelback.

This is what I am dealing with people. 24/7.

Now don't you feel petty worrying about your stuff?

Yes, I thought you might.

Matchmaking -- Ladies, Here's How It's Done

Before I begin, I'll ask you to make sure you are seated comfortably because this match is simply going to blow your mind.

This is too good to fuck around with a lot of ellipses, so let's just get right to it...

I match John Mayer with Norah Jones.

IS YOUR MIND BLOWN RIGHT NOW!?

ARE YOU ALL, OMIGOD WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!?*

I know, it's fucking awesome.

UPDATE:

My Entertainment news and gossip meter was all aglow today because apparently John Mayer and Jessica Simpson broke up. God Bless their hearts.

John Mayer make your goddam move already!


*You know why, because the great ones always make it look so simple, but in truth I have been ciphering in my laboratory for days.

Decisions, decisions

You know, I pretty much had it all figured out. I had decided that Johnny Depp was my imaginary husband. And then didn't Matt Dillon have to show up again in my life today. Now I have had to reopen the debate, because Matt Dillon has a certain je ne sais quoi, that with Johnny Depp is not so much of a mystery since you pretty much know up front what the quoi is. Matt Dillon can look, dare I say, a little preppy at times, which can come in handy in the lives of most women.

I am still thinking about it.

It is high time I realized

that I must give up the dream of the gay son.

My son likes girls; and that is just the way it is.

So for me, there will be no Sunday morning phone calls inviting me to brunch and an afternoon spent antiquing. Nor will there be any helpful shopping trips, or trips to the tony beuaty salon of a friend.

No, not for me.

Because my son likes the ladies.

But that's okay because he's my son and I love him anyway.

Rosie Vs. Donald T. (now that noone cares)

I side with Rosie O'. First, Rosie, whether you want to admit it or not, has done a lot to change television for the better. In her way, she has made celebrity and celebrities more human and more accessible. She's demystified something that probably never should have been mystified to begin with. And she's broken down some kind of invisible wall that existed between "stars" and their "fans".

Donald Trump may have done much to advance assholism and skullduggery, but I don't keep up with those fields so I can't say for sure. Why is his hair fair game? Well, much like President Bush's misproununciations, it's fair game because he does it so much, for so long, and refuses to even acknowledge there's anything wrong with it to the point that it surely must say something about the character of the man. Rosie knows she's fat and acknowledges it every day. So while she may not be changing it, at least she's acknowledging it. That's already far healthier.

Now that some time has past it really fucking offends me that people didn't stand up for her. And if it's true that Oprah said "Finally someone said what everyone was thinking" in response to that VILE Camile Paglia's horrible comments about Rosie and Donald Trump, then I am sad to say but I am disgusted with Oprah, too. (I really hope that's not the case). And Camille Paglia needs to have her feminist ID Badge taken away. And the decoder ring. She really does. She's a bad man.