la!la!la!la!!

I swear to god. If hell has a sound track, it is When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls. Over and over and over and over.

la!la!la!la!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Is Fiddy going soft (taco)?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080724/people_nm/lawsuit_dc;_ylt=Ajm9QxRFOBMVQRuNDZKQpmRxFb8C

Am I the only one who's slightly disappointed that 50 Cent is suing Taco Bell? Is this anyway to settle a beef? I mean, it's "Get Rich or Die Tryin'", not "Get Rich or Seek Monetary Reparations Through Appropriate Legal Channels." "Bitch better give me my money or I'll bust a torte in his ass" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Like a fly trapped in honey

My god. It's so beautiful I can't look away. So beeeeyooooooteeeeeefuuuuuuullllll. . . . .

Please, people! We can't have this kind of image on the internet where any unsuspecting person can just come across it! Think of the lost productivity!

Little Surfer Boy

Sometimes watching reality TV really makes me question my career choices. I was watching the Shortcut Challenge from Shear Genius last night, and thinking, "You know, I hardly ever come to work in the morning and find a surfer boy with his wetsuit half off wanting me to run my hands through his hair." Actually. That never happens. And really, if I had known that there would be a sad dearth of surfer boys in the glamorous field of administrative assistance, I might have paid more attention in school. Or if some company should be in desperate need of capable administrative help, I can say that half naked surfer boys are a bargaining chip in this quarter. In fact, I'd be willing to give up my vision benefits for this little perq.

Okay, I'm a little partial to the surfer dudes. When I lived in San Diego briefly, one of my favorite pass times and main indulgences was driving down the PCH at the end of the day, with all the surfers with their wet suits were getting into their scroddy Jeeps. Standing around talking with their salt kissed hair flying in the ocean breeze and their tribal tatts. . . . . . . Ahhhhh.

Okay, I'm back. And last night on SG, how much did I love the guy who's wetsuit was just far enough down to show a little butt crack? So cute. Cause you can tell a surfer boy that he's got the split ham sandwich going on back there, but chances are he won't do anything about it. Cause they spend half their time with their posteriors in serious jeopardy of exposure. Ass to the wind? Ehhh. Doesn't even rate a yellow on their terror alert scale. God love 'em.

Irony Deficiency

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080724/ap_en_ce/people_pamela_anderson;_ylt=AkhQDTS9q1B6yO0dDy7SkURxFb8C

Do you suppose that the idea of Pamela Anderson appearing in a "reality" program being a slight oxymoron just missed them?

Not even just "mostly dead"

My sister and I have been in a dead pool for over, I don't know, about 10 years now. It's been significant mainly for our astounding ability to pick people who manage to squeak by for another year. If you want to see someone live until 2009, make sure that they're on my list for 2008. Different people have come and gone from our little band of ghouls, but everybody has pretty much the same low mortality rate.

But, getting a relatively earlier start on the year, my sister has the first one in the pool since our beloved Estelle Getty has gone to that great Shady Pines in the Sky. Now admittedly, she was just playing the odds. But, dude, I can't believe she killed Sophia Patrillo. The only person I've ever offed in the pool was Sadaam Hussein. And let's face it - he had it coming.

18 Things Every Girl Should Have and Know How to Use . . . And Why

Just some things that I've found highly useful in my 3-cough-cough-cough years on this planet. And note, nearly all of them will make a great house warming present for any gal (or guy, for that matter) moving into a new home.

1. WD-40 - fixes squeaks, makes things slide
2. Flat head screwdriver - (a real one, not some tiny baby cutesie-pie screw-driver - you can buy it in pink if it makes you feel girlier) - turns screws, pries things open
3. Phillps head screwdriver - because if you only have a flat head, everything you buy will have phillips screws
4. Hammer - hangs pictures, pulls out nails, knocks boards back into place, killing bugs
5. Masking/painter's tape - marks spots on the wall without goofing up your paint, paints a straight line, keeps paint from chipping when you hammer in a nail, fixes a hem in an emergency
6. Jack, lug nut wrench and foot long piece of metal pipe - to change a flat tire (the pipe can make it easier for you to get a grip on the wrench
7. Electrical tape - temporary fix for when you roll over the vaccuum cleaner cord
8. Tape measure - measure twice, cut once, never buy a couch that won't fit through your front door
9. A good pair of scissors - for precision cutting of paper or cloth
10. A crappy pair of scissors - for cutting anything that you think might ruin your good pair of scissors
11. Sharpie pen (black) - marks where you need to cut, nail or hammer, fixes scuffs in your cheap black shoes, and is the only pen you can get a David Beckham autograph with (you know, just in case)
12. Super Glue - mends ceramics and plastics, fixes paper cuts
13. Toilet plunger - s*** happens
14. Mr. Clean Magic Erasers - smudges on cabinets, walls, bathtubs, counter tops - they really are magic
15. Pliers with built-in wire cutter - for bending back or cutting off that wire or nail that you just know you're going to cut yourself on some day
16. Small shovel - digging holes for plants, burying a pet, hiding the evidence
17. Needle and thread - sewing on buttons
18. Duct tape - for anything that can't be fixed by 1-17

Oh, baby!!

Just found out that one of my very young oldest friends is having a baby. How cool is that? No matter how many people have babies, when you find out one of your friends is having one it suddenly becomes the greatest thing in the world.

Okay, I'll admit some of it is self-serving. As long as other people are willing to propagate the species, well . . . less work for me.

But even so. There is an element that is just pure joy for someone else. When you know that a kid is going to be born to somebody who's at the right place and the right time, that's just a good thing. Lucky munchkin. Lucky parents.

Babies. What a terrific concept.

Theatre, darling

So I missed out on the movies over the weekend. Not Batman. Not Mamma Mia (though dreamy Pierce Brosnan singing S.O.S. is hella tempting). Didn't even hit the dolly. Cause I'd forgotten that my Theatre 3 subscription had started up again - yeah!! I loves my plays. Though I've switched to the Sunday evening show instead of Saturday afternoons. And unfortunately, I discovered that on Sunday night, I'm not the youngest person in the audience at Theatre 3. Saturday afternoon tends to be theater to snooze through for the 60+ set. Sunday night had a bunch of younger girls who were all dressed cute. Dammit. Now I'm going to have to make an effort. I dressed in my usual weekend cazh gear, and was standing next to a blonde bombshell in sex goddess clothes in the bathroom line. I just wanted to tell her, "Oh, for pete's sake. You're gorgeous. Couldn't you just wear jeans and flip flops so the rest of us don't look like something the cat dragged in? Give a sista a break."

Anyway the show was very good. For my DFW peeps, I'd recommend it (House & Garden - http://www.theatre3dallas.com/t3/houseandgarden.html). Well written. Well acted. Well staged. Though anything that takes place in England can be a trifle dicey on a Dallas stage. Accents tend to get wobbly in the second act. But the strength of the acting overcame any shortfalls in the limey lingo, for the most part.

My only real problem with the show was me not them. With 3 of the main characters (all very capable actors), I was so distracted for most of the first act, I could hardly pay attention. The male lead, I just kept staring at him and thinking, who does he remind me of? I hate it when that happens. (It was Bill Engvall, by the way.) Then with the female lead, her second costume was this brown shirt dress that I kept wondering if I could get back stage and steal it. Plotting petty theft is not conducive to the theater experience.

But most distracting of all was the second male lead. Tall, good looking in a Hugh Laurie-ish sort of way. After Hugh Laurie got old enough to play complete bastards. Which this character was. And one of the clues they give you to instantly identify him as a bastard and a cad was the uber-groomed hair and the worst canned man-tan that you have ever seen in your life. He was the color of a knockoff Dooney & Burke handbag. I could hardly look at him it was so disturbing. Luckily it's theater in the round, so he spent a good part of the first act with his back to me. And the fact that he had a very good voice (you know me and voices) eventually overcame the distracting factor of looking like he'd rubbed Cheetos all over his face. Anyway. By the second act, I was able to overcome my ADD enough to get settled in and really enjoy the show. I'm so frickin' cultured.