the best things in life are free

For the most part, I don't do the forwarding the cute pic/lucky angel/forward-this-or-I-curse-thee-to-the-7th-generation e-mail thing. But this pic was in one of those that I received today, and it made me laugh. Plus, for every time my niece looks at me like I'm nuts when I say "Eh. It doesn't really blow my skirt up" - this is what I'm talking about.

You kiss your mama with that mouth?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090121/wl_asia_afp/australiamyanmarmaritimerescue;_ylt=AkzC11JSvPKs2i8hQV8kZe9vaA8F

Guys. Guys. There are a few things that you just shouldn't tell people. One of them would be eating bird vomit. Under any circumstances. Now you're always going to be the-guys-who-ate-bird-vomit. This is a taint that no TicTac can cure. There ain't enough Listerine in the world, my friends.

Okay, you have to explain how you lived, seeing as neither of you appear to be missing appendages or to have missing bits in what could be considered the "rump roast" region. This is where the fine are of obfuscation truly comes in handy. You could say "We 'found' a few small fish," or "We had seafood," or even "We ate as the baby birdies do." and just leave it at that. Or, in the worst case, chop off one of your friend's hands, hide it and say "Stuff happens."

I'd have thought this would be something else affected by the recession

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/01/22/virginity.value/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

This story popped up on CNN's most read list. And I can see why. I mean, really. It's kind of astonishing. Somebody willing to pay millions of bucks to sleep with a virgin. That's a lot of cash to lay out on somebody who, essentially, doesn't know what they're doing.

Not that I really understand the impulse that leads one to pay for this sort of service. But I would have thought that the same principles would apply as when you're looking at any other sort of skilled labor: plumber, mechanic, electrician, brain surgeon.

I understand that virginity is considered something of a luxury feature in this realm. Much like leather bucket seats or digital surround sound. But, really, I wouldn't have thought it would be a big ticket item. I mean which sounds like the more useful upgrade? The leather bucket seats, or the GPS system that tells you where you're going and how to get there? Of course, you wouldn't want anything too high mileage. You don't want road hard and put up wet, or anything. But I would think, in regards to a value proposition, there would have to be a balance between never been road tested and needing the 200,000 mile service check.

I would have thought experience would have counted for more when looking for this sort of service. I mean, she may have some book larnin', but there really isn't any replacement for actual field experience, is there? That is of course assuming that were talking about a virgin-virgin here and not an everything-but-virgin. If you're going to got that route, what really constitutes the most value for your virgin dollar?

And somebody should tell Miss Natalie to double check that bid. If that $3.8 million is in Australian dollars, as opposed to USD, she might find she's getting less bang for the buck than she's expecting. Or buck for the bang, as it were.

I feel so betrayed.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/chi-fat-food-21jan21,0,7175689.story

WHAT!?!?!?!?! Eating a low-fat diet will give me 2 extra weeks to live? 2 weeks? You gotta be freaking kidding me. Not a decade. Not a year. Not even a month. 14 days. A fortnight.

I give up full fat yogurt, whole milk, yankee pot roast, bacon, butter, pork rinds, fried chicken, real ice cream, cheeseburgers, sour cream, baked brie, my mother's funeral potatoes, whipped, cream, greens cooked with ham and the good mashed potatoes, and what I get in return is 2 weeks? Okay. I didn't give them up entirely. But when I did eat them, I felt really, really bad about myself and could hardly enjoy them. For a stinking, measly 2 frogging weeks. I don't care if it's 2 weeks at an all-inclusive resort in Fiji being fed candied rose petals by Hugh Jackman while Gerard Butler gives me a foot massage. That is not worth giving up food that tastes like food for the rest of my life.

Pass. The. Bacon.

Wassup, homey?

You may have heard. George and Laura are moving to Dallas. I can see why. You know that 6% of the public that still thinks W. did a great job? Most of them live here. Texas is a fire engine red state. And Dallas it’s bloody, beating heart.

I probably bear less animosity to Dub and Mrs. Dub than many. It was definitely time for a change. But I find myself more disposed to let it go as I move on. My basic attitude at the end of his term has been, somebody needed to be standing at the doors of the White House saying “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” But they are going home. And home is here.

I’m not sure what the former First Couple moving into the ‘hood really means. It’s not like we run in the same circles. I’m not going to run into Laura at the hippie grocery. George isn’t going to be over at the Pearl for happy hour (I assume). They’re rich and white so they won’t have anything to do with local government (publicly – the wealthy and melanin deficient think it’s more tasteful to keep their involvement back room around here.). Oh, I’m sure they’ll be busy putting together the GWB Presidential Library. But how long can it take to find a Bible and a copy of 111 Classic Fart Jokes?

I kind of hope that they have a nice retirement. I hope the girls give them some grandbabies. And 41 and 43 go out on the lake fishing. Maybe Laura can do something nice about literacy. And if they are out buying glucosamine and granola at the hippie grocery, I’ll wave.

Ta Da!

Okay, it's a small start. Today I'm debuting my grassroots litter campaign (I'm thinking of this as my Hell, yeah I can! Day. With a tip of the hat to the new Mr. President.) I'm calling my little foray into grassroots movement "Bitter About Litter".

I wanted something simple and catchy. And I hope I've got it. I'm hoping that it's an easy way to say "No, I'm not cool with you throwing your cheeseburger wrapper out the car window." I'm not a graphic designer. But let's face it, I'm my own ad department at the moment. And if I wait to have the money to do something flashy, I'll never get started. And I really want to get started.

I've uploaded the images to Cafe Press (http://www.cafepress.com/bitterlitter) for a t-shirt and a bumper sticker, and I'm going to buy a few to test the quality. If they come out okay, I'm going to distribute them to friends. Who, hopefully they will like them enough to put them on their cars or bodies, and show them around town. My niece has already said that she'll wear one to her ecology club at school.

I didn't really want to mark the prices up any, but Dad convinced me that if I do, then I can pour any money back into the campaign - for things like fees to set up a table at an Earth Day fair or something. Gotta admit, that sounds kind of cool. So I just put a little extra on (or what I assume is a little). I'm trying to balance my Inaugral induced optimism with the very real possibility that nothing could come of this. Guess that's the good kind of ambivalence.

I'll let you guys know how the t-shirt and bumper sticker come out. And if you're interested in being a bill board, let me know. :)