Unbunch the panties and step away from the speculum, sister.

I want to preface this post by saying that I am no feminist. In fact, many of the things that get my fellow females (like that?) up in arms strike me as stemming from an inability to deal with the realities of the universe as they relate to men and women.

With that, I would like to pose the universal question, “What the holy balls?” to the makers of AT YOUR CERVIX.  Perhaps I’m missing something but…”most women experience cervical exams as painful and disempowering”??!!  Don’t speak for me, ladies.  Please.  Would it shock you to find out that I don’t see cervical exams as being either of those things?  Are they fun?  No.  But I fail to see what could be “disempowering” about being responsible about your gynecological health.     But they did give me a great idea for my own documentary to be entitled, “Innoculations:  The Painful, Silent Child Abuser”.

Give me a fucking break.

Stolen from Claudia.

Four Things You Should Know About Me Before Inviting Me To Dinner At Your House

1. No fish.  This includes fresh or saltwater varities and any of their little shell-dwelling friends.

2. I’ll eat (or try) just about anything else.

3. If you could find a way to work bacon into every course, I will be your friend forever.

4. I am a good guest -if you will let me, I’ll do the washing up for you.

Found this at a local bodega, bought it for my nephew.

Style your hair with Gorilla Snot!

End of times!!

For the past two days, water has been dropping from the sky.  The sun has disappeared and the temperature has hovered just below 90.  I expect to hear the four horsemen approaching any time now.

My sister would like me to let you all know that she has two teenage boys for sale.  The price?  Absolutely nothing.  She will even drop them off at your door.  Any takers?  (They are good kids but they’ve both decided this is the ’summer of testing behavior’ and I think she’s just about had it…)  So let me know.  First come, first served.

In other news, I bought this dress.

And yes, I will buy a huge, ugly purse to go with it and will stand around vogue-ing every time I wear it, just like the model.  Because if there’s one thing you need to know about me it’s this: I am all about the vogue-ing, America.  Why, I even get up and strike the occasional pose while I’m writing this craptacular blog.  There!  I just did it!  Did you see?  That was my signature move, the “Crabby McBitch Pants”. (Pat. pending)

Many rivers to cross and many errands to run so off I go.

Greetings from Bizarro World.

That would be Texas, to some of you. You know, the state where they have expanded the general idea of the CASTLE DOCTRINE to include your car, your place of employment, your yard, your neighbor’s yard, pretty much anywhere you see someone you don’t like and can convince the cops said person was coming after you.  And now, in one district, it will include the CLASSROOM.

To  paraphrase the great Wesley Willis:  Rock over London!  Rock over Rick Perry’s perfect hair!  Rock over Texas!

I would score about the same by today’s standards as well. And I’m damned proud of it.

-16 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

Olympic fever? Not so much.

I haven’t made much of an effort to watch the Olympics this year.  It seems that every time I do tune in they’re showing something like badminton or beach volleyball, neither of which I give a rat’s ass about.  (And I’m sorry but…beach volleyball?  I’m sure there’s a nice T&A factor there for some viewers but give me a break.)

Watching the Olympics used to be an event in my family.  Both of my parents loved watching and  they would let my siblings and I stay up late or wake us up in the middle of the night to watch certain important events.  (This was before the Olympic Committee and TV networks agreed to pre-tape or coordinated the event schedules for maximum viewership.)  Anyhow, it was always fun and it did instill a bit of national pride in my young soul.   I still like to watch them with my mom or with my younger nieces and nephews because there’s a contagious enthusiasm there.  But watching alone, or with a cat, or while I’m doing something like shredding four years worth of financial documents…well…I’d rather be watching “Family Guy”.

I have a long-neglected Facebook page that I am suddenly using (I blame Harriet) so if anyone out there wants to be social networking friends, let me know.  I created the page under a fake name and am still unsure about whether to change it to my real name because frankly, there are people out there who I don’t really want to hear from ever again, even in the not-real-contact world of the internet.

There are workers restoring part of the porch on my neighbor’s house and what that means for me is day two of my neighbor’s dogs barking at said workers all day long.  Yippee.  Yesterday I was trying to write and I finally ended up putting the iPAWD phones in just to get my concentration back.  I am not usually that easily distracted but it’s been a stressful few weeks  and my nerves are a bit on edge.

I did have one truly stellar thing happen this week.  I have held off telling anyone because I don’t want to jinx anything but I got the interview I’ve been chasing for three years (related to the mystery project).  Finally.  It was surreal but very fruitful and I think with the right connections this could be a really big thing for me.  All of that is currently being worked on and is part of the reason I haven’t been able to eat this week.

In fact, I have had intense pressure from so many sides in the past few weeks that I would like to publicly pat myself on the back for keeping my shit together as well as I have.   It’s been epic, folks.  But here I am, so, GO ME!!!

And on those cryptic notes, I bid you adieu.

In case any of you were planning to experiment:

I am here to tell you that eating a rich Greek meal after two weeks of near-fasting is not a good idea.  At all.

I wonder… if I tie a note around Stevie’s neck and give him directions to the local mini-mart do you think he’d make it there and back with some Tums?

Are we really supposed to believe…

…that GEORGIA CONSIDERS THIS A CRIME?  I thought that kind of thing was par for the course down there.  Huh.

Do you know what I did today?

I called CLAUDIA.  Yes, I did.  We spoke for a nice long while and she will be moving to Texas soon so we can be real-life friends.  I’m pretty sure that’s what she said, anyhow.  I’ll get your room ready, miss.   Breakfast is at 7, lunch is at noon and you’re on your own for dinner.  No strange men in your room, no spitting and clean up after yourself.  Bath night is Friday.  Lights out at midnight.  Got that?  Good.

My house is so clean.  Frighteningly so.  Well, parts of it are.  I tackled the bedroom closet today and in the course of going through old clothes, found a pair of pre-diet pants.  Yikes.  I was fat, America.  Really, really fat.  Huge, in fact.  I tried them on just for kicks and posed in front of my bedroom mirror, holding out the waist like an “after” picture for one of those fat-burner ads you see in the back of magazines.  And then I laughed out loud at my own stupidity.

I really need to get up to Chicago and bring down the furniture I claimed from my Dad’s house.  Two items in particular - a groovy mid-century modern style bookcase made by my dad ca. 1962 and a chair that sat in our living room for as long as I can remember.  The bookcase is huge and I could really use it here.  Currently, my books are in boxes with shelving stacked on top of them because I don’t have sufficient shelf space for them.  Perhaps a road trip is in order soon.  I have one more week before I return to regular part-time employment….hmmm… who wants to drive a truck from Chicago to Texas with me?  Anyone?  I always drive the speed limit and only pick up the most benign-looking hitchhikers.  Swear to God.

Still have a few things on my to-do list today so off I go.  Carry on.