Thursday, January 29, 2004



Smack the Pingu courtesy of Daily Candy.


By the way, HEY STEPHANIE ThAnK YoU for my bLaCk MaGiC MarKer, candycandycandy and note of inspiration. You're too kind. I don't care what Scott Ritchey says.





Does loving hand sanitizers make me OCD or does being OCD make me love hand sanitizers? Well here's my favorite local drugstore brand so far. It does actually moisturize as it kills the cooties. Bonus. The aloe is funky fine, too. Here's a Cucumber Melon variety that probably doesn't smell like a gin and tonic. Or like my sister at 2:30 in the afternoon. (Oops sorry, Ma. Slipped. She had it comin.')






Who's the mouth-breather who fills out surveys for free toothpaste?

Me me me, named Bippie so I'll know who sold my address.
Who's the mouth-breather who checks the None of the Above box?





Gross.




But Bippie won't have her toothpaste in a month. Bippie might threaten to sue only to settle for more free stuff. Might.



Product review, product review:




Despite the commercial with Emeril LaGasse saying BAM three times, this is good toothpaste, and does whiten and brighten. I'd finish this but Scott is bugging me to go walk the dog.

But who can resist this face:

Wednesday, January 28, 2004



Warner is right.

There is nothing funnier than a monkey riding a dog. Nothing. So, enjoy.


Tuesday, January 27, 2004

Ding Dong the Sprint phone's dead.

Boy, they really added a certain level of difficulty yesterday. Add that to the poor tile guy with the speech impediment who talked just like Boomhauer. I'm being serious, you know; the mean is just coincidental. And rest my soul that I gambled and lost my own bet.

"So how long is this shower pan going to take to fix anyway. Like, an hour?"

"Awwshoo, dingdingablingablangdattatakemuffinhour."

Once you have asked someone to repeat themselves three times, going for a forth is just bad form. However, maybe a chalkboard between us two would've helped. No, but just in case you think I've abandoned my usual optimism, it's hiding in the ashes of the Feenix (patent pending), which is a cheaper knock-off version of the real thing. Available at many fine stores. Anyway...

And with a rattle of the dice, the thought "I bet he said it'll take less than an hour" is now going on Day Two.

Of course, I was more than wrong. I was a raw, exposed vat of scalding emotions after he and his silent coworker buzzed and sawed and bangbangbanged around in My Favorite Barbie-Make-Me-Pretty Bathroom. It sounded like they were building a Trojan Horse in there.

There are few words to explain how much the bubbly fake jacuzzi tub means to me, and even less to explain my love for the stand-alone shower. Which is now a gaping, yawning maw of despair. Oh. The exaggerated humanity.

Well, I can't take that kind of thing. Sure, I can shoot a man just for snoring, but I can hardly walk by an eyelash on the floor. Anal, never. I like to call it tidy, structured and sometimes freakish. Chinese water torture? Bring it. But please leave the shower in its pristine glory.

But when he reappeared an hour later, sweaty and even more indiscernible, I said "So, you guys done already?"

"Awnawmain, now th'plummergottercomeowtanfiggablangblingy."

"What?"

The plumber, who may or may not show up for 3 or 5 days he said. I got that much. "So, wait, what are we going to do?" And I guess it was the shrug that spoke a thousand or so words, and it was the shove over into the ravine below.

Ok, so back to Sprint I guess. Short of it is, I don't make phone calls much but when I do, I'd really like to get a signal. Especially sitting on the couch. Is that too much to ask? And if I was on the Space Shuttle, I'd expect that type of talkover delay. So how hard was it for Matthew to note on my account to leave the number open so it can be ported?

"I'm sorry, but your account has been deactivated."

"That was not my fault, it was his. What needs to be done to get it reactivated?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I --"

I was nice. Her job is probably awful, the bastards she must deal with all day. But me and Matthew, we had an understanding:

"So this is my last day of the service agreement, but I want to keep my number and use it with another provider. What do I do?"

"You want to port it?"

"Does that mean keep it?"

"Yes."

"Yes then I want to port it."

Still, I was still determined to cling to the quivering branch jutting from the edge I had been pushed over. It was a series of events. It was not one thing, it was everything. And I woke up on the wrong side of the world. So they destroyed my shining sea of tranquility. So they deactivated my account when I asked them not to. So the woman on the phone called me "ma'am" when really she was thinking "bitch". No, I was nice. I was. I was an alien in my own skin, overcome with frustation and anxious tension. But obviously it could be worse. I could be a customer service rep for a cellphone company.

Nevermind, yesterday was a good day then.

Today was even better, and it involved more of the Boomhauer tiling show with an overstimulated big black dog barfing in the corner.

I just want to know, who fed the dog onions?



Monday, January 26, 2004



Mars Attacks.

Just for the record, the alignment of the planets are deadly today and have kicked my cosmic ass. Really. I just need a nice, tidy automobile accident to top it off. I don't even want to talk about it, but I'm sure I will. But right now, my head hurts so bad I could implode upon myself like a Giant Black Hole. It's nothing serious, it's just the Joys of Owning a Home combined with Sprint PCS: Don't Get Me Started.

So. Turning attention to more important matters. let's see who made the Best and Worst Dressed List at this bird-brained* award show that I didn't watch. But I do enjoy this type of recap.


*That was mean-spirited and uncalled for. Therefore, I apologize to all birds around the world for the comparison. I meant "vacuous".




Friday, January 23, 2004

Monkey-Picked Tea.

Well of course I just have to have it. As long as it's not that monkey poop coffee known as kopi luwak. Because that just makes me want to die and take people with me.





Thursday, January 22, 2004

A follow up from me mo'...

In response to saying that I probably wouldn't be seeing Cold Mountain because one, it may have been a good book, but I bet it got real chicky flicky with Nicole, and she just gets all over my last nerve sometimes; and two, I bet I couldn't load Ron into a cannon and shoot him into a movie like that. Which is one reason I love 'im. So mum says:

"Actually --Cold Mountain is not a chick flick. It was gory enough and enough killing in it to make several of the maintenance men at the VA* see it a couple of times. I have to be honest and say I even liked Nicole in it even though she dominated (shall we say) a great deal of the movie. Needless to say, Judd Law was a hunka-hunka** burning love. He's purty."

*Veteran's Adminstration. It's where my dad has worked for like 40 years now. Impressive fortitude, I say. Doing anything for 40 years is impressive to me. Pretty much everything he does impresses me.

**She also agrees that Johnny Depp is quite the looker as well.



Happy Chinese New Year, by the way. I wish I knew more about it really. It's the year of the monkey. I know that. Much better than the year of the rat. Excluding US Presidential Elections this year. Ha cha cha cha. Someone stop me. No, really. But I promise not to start talking politics. I don't even like them. I know more about how to replace various car engine parts than I do about politics. They all seemed like a good idea, a long time ago, and on paper. Speaking of corporates and hippies...







Product Review, Product Review! Ben & Jerry's Uncanny Cashew

A real no-brainer. This is sofa king good. If you like slightly-sweeter-than-usual vanilla ice cream combined with salty, toffeed-or-caramelled cashews, then put on your stretchy pants and enjoy. Just cram some corn chips and chili in it and I think we could call it a formal binge. Get some today. Also...




Actually, I have no idea what this tastes like, but you know I have to have it. It's Rose Petal Tea from the Republic of Teas.

The Spring Cherry tea a very smooth and tasty way to actually enjoy an affordable green tea. And even though it contains floral elements like peony and paklum flowers, it's in no way similar to one of those disappointing perfumey disasters you fall for simply because the packaging was cool looking. Buying neato looking teas that end up tasting like a tiny bunch of bitter twigs steeped in Birkenstock drippings makes me feel more than just spiritually ripped off. You know what I mean.

Also, the white teas at the Republic of Teas are the only ones I've tried but very good. Just don't leave the tea bag in longer than a minute, or you'll get that same type of Birkenstock bite.



I feel bad. I guess I need to talk about guns or ammo or boobs now for some of the guys out there reading this. Odds are, they never made it this far. That tea talk was sorta girlie. Even though I know Michael liked the tea review. And the bridesmaid dress unveiling yesterday.

But hey, I'm not made of wood here. So I like pink and red and tea and cookies and I actually get genuinely excited like a Pavlovian dog about Valentines and its overpriced flowers and great big fat sparkly rings (rose gold, white gold or platinum, your choice) and puppy breath and soft white puffy kittens.

I don't understand why more people haven't chosen to exploit this holiday to its fullest. We should get a day off to stay home a drink pink champagne and eat dark chocolates and take bubble baths and naps. Valentine's one of our best totally manfactured non-religious holidays specifically designated for candy and more candy.

So when I run for President, get behind the movement and I will propose that Congress pass a law making Valentine's a real, true, PTO holiday, damn them. We have a perfectly good V-Day somewhere in the books that we don't celebrate now. Shake it off. Let's go. Who wants chocolate cheesecake as the national cake?

"We have no national cake", you say. Exactly!

Oh wait... I'm not running for President. Ron is. Well, he will start his campaign right after our abysmmmmmalll election. I'll let you know about his many platforms. Not that I understand what a platform is probably,* but I'll take good notes.

Which reminds me that I need to get my oil changed tomorrow.


*Ohh, I'm not that undereducated. Ok, so one of his platforms is "Prettier Money, and No More Bills, Just Coins" because face it, American money is kinda boring visually, and I never understood why a dime was worth more than a nickel since the nickel was bigger than a dime.**

**Don't ask. Just throw me something sparkly.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

I love my mother.

I like the way she writes.

"I am getting sooooooooo much better checking my mail. Don't I know how those weekends fly!!!!! Been there-done that and I am still doing it. Sounds 'citing about Jackies ( I know this is spelled wrong --but it is the bestest I can do at the moment) wedding.

"I am working this week and it is very interesting over at the CI (Cancer Institute). Actually-I am liking it there. I have a great place to park and I can leave the house later since I don't have to ride with yo Daddy.

"We went to see Cold Mountain this past Monday on the King's birthday. I have just about all I need of Nicole Kiddman. The movie was fine but as they say--the book was better.

"I have really gotten into drinking really quality Japanese and Chinese tea and I have ordered some really good stuff over the Internet. I ordered you some too. It is called Rose Bouquet White Tea and it has good stuff in it like Lavender and such. I also ordered some Natural Fiber Tea filters for brewing loose tea in mugs and cups. I ordered you some of those too. How bout that? I will be sending it to you....

"Love you much---Mama"


It's the subtleties. ( That looks like it's spelled wrong --but it is the bestest I can do at the moment.)




Who else is kickass?

KittySpunk and DougieSpunk: For the sublime Bacon and Cheese scones, mimosas and far-out gourmet egg-in-hambowls. I'm not kidding, I have just made myself hungry again thinking about it. I will have to try making those scones, but as I said, I really think that bread dough can smell my fear. But I vow to sneak up on the blobby monster even though I predict to make a dandy set of rocks, doorstops or paperweights. But on the bright side, if I make them flat enough, I could make that nifty backsplash for the kitchen sink I've been wanting. I will let you know how it goes. And thank you so much again for the wonderful time! Simpsons' Trivia Night is next.


And Jacquie (suppersexygirl on left) is rather kickass, too.

Here's a prayer she just forwarded me:

> > FRIENDSHIP PRAYER
> >
> > May the fleas of a thousand camels
> > infest the crotch of the person who screws up
> > your day and may their arms be too short to scratch...
> > AMEN

She must be in a good mood, you see. Because me? I'd add in stacking tires and setting fires, but that's the smack part of me talkin.'

(If you are a guy, you are advised to skip over this next part. Hey, I'm a girl, I'm entitled to get giddy from time to time.)



And check out this bridesmaid dress because ohhellyeah, she asked me to be one. A bridesmaid, not a dress. It's not exactly this color, it's Soft Rose (awwwwww). So BIG FAT HUGS TO JACQUIE FROM ME because she's a keeper. And no really, I'm serious, her wedding will be fun, definitely not typical, and if you want to listen to me make fun of myself before during and after, stay tuned. If not, well, I'll try to contain myself.




News Flash: Crazy people are eating brainsbrainsbrains!! Nasty Grody Sandwich for Brains people are eating them, on buns, and on purpose. Go ahead. Thin the human herd. Sure, I bet I have eaten cow tootyholes in a big fat ballpark hotdog. But that was accidental. I can't eat a brainburger with cheese on purpose.







Oops. Looks like I have to take some of that back. Maybe there are worse things after all. Visit the Magic Cone*. Mad Cow is wrong and bad but it could come in handy. Thinning our own herd may not be such a bad idea if you have too much time and other stuff on your hands. Uhm... Enjoy?

*Oh yes, And "Don't throw it into the toilet." Why that would just be silly.




And finally...




M&M's has come up with a most cruel contest for someone who just ordered a bridesmaid dress not made of Spandex. How untimely and calorically unfortunate for me. Like I needed any more prompting like a chance to win a brand new convertible VW Beetle to make me drool for more M&Ms. Actually, this is brilliant. Yes, it's all clear now: I now have a very real and legally binding excuse to buy even more Almond M&Ms. Man, life is so @#$%ing good!!*

*SCENE CUTS TO ME, pleased with life and happily chewing on a bag of MMs, unaware as my inoperable tumor somewhere just grew three sizes larger. Why do I jinx myself like this?

Friday, January 16, 2004

BANJO PLAYER
The Tunica Queen Riverboat is seeking a dynamic strolling musician to play traditional river tunes on our new sightseeing cruise boat. The successful musician will perform three of our four daily cruises. 344 Casino Way, Robinsonville, MS, 38664, phone: 662-363-7622, fax 662-363-7623


I'm just sayin'...


Michael says: "I had a chance to learn the banjo when I was in high school. Obviously I made the wrong choice when I decided to go to art class instead. Missed opportunities."

You are so right, Michael. Regrets are harder to swallow than this gravy soda you sent me. Yes, if only I was 5 foot 2 with eyes of blue with the metabolism of a praying mantis, I could've been a princess. But no, I had to get a job and work like the average suckatrator... dollar dollar bill yall. Which reminds me: Where's my Ashton Kutcher product? Here. I'll get you started.






Good news, Michael.

Merle Haggard is selling his houseboat. Why would I make that up? Plus, he's feeling good about this concert tonight because he just got a new set of teeth Wednesday. Why would I make that up?

Think about it. His houseboat has a "big restroom with shower & real toilet". If that real toilet could talk, I bet it would scream and scream and scream.



Wednesday, January 14, 2004



Sure hope that tinymixtapes doesn't mind me swiping their photo above and linking to them, but "Thank You, KittySpunk" for sending me this link. If anyone needs me, I'll be here at the Automatic Mix Tape Generator until my eyes dry out.







And thank you Michael for the hand-crafted pencil holder. It looks great on my desk. Now all I need is a chunky sidekick coffee mug with a big mouth that looks bad from every angle.







Awww, thanks again, Michael. My very own chunky sidekick mug complete with battery-operated shoulder-shaped beverage warmer underneath. I bet there's nothing that hotplate can't burn. She's not too bad looking. With her mouth closed. Aw, you shouldn't have. Well, I take back what I said about your mom earlier. I do. No, really.

Hmmm. I sure could use a coaster. Or a PDA cozy. Got any Ashton Kutcher merchandise for me? That crazy boy just seems to be popping up everywhere these days. And it's really starting to work my last nerve. Almost as much as "Where's Waldo". Almost.




Tuesday, January 13, 2004



Citizens of St. Louis, beware.

Our lil Mikie Nort-o-tron 2K is all grown-up now and in a band again. It's Divebar. Attention Everyone: Please go to the show, witness the raw talent, and throw polkadot panties on Mike in case me an' the Mister can't find value tickets on Amtrak.

Now what was the other band's name you and Ron were in? Ah yes... Big Jim Slade. Those were the days, I'll bet. You guys were ahead of your time, and those times were simpler. Which reminds me, I once dated a guy in a high school band named Quaalude. But who hasn't done that. In retrospect, I'm impressed with the fact he must've looked up the correct spelling. And those were the days before Google. But he was, as I'm sure he will always be, an authentic idiot.

Hey I like the picture of Michael R's dad and his buddy on your webpage. Man, I really should get a camera phone.







And now, a word about Scott. Or is it Tim. Huh. I guess you weren't kidding about getting run over by a car.








There we-eel be three-e-e weeners.

If you're an ad person, especially in Memphis, you'll have plenty to enter in the Soundscapes TV Audio Makeover contest.

No, I'm just kidding, don't enter. Make it fair for the rest of the region. Plus there is no hope for the reanimated cadavers on the Chiles Furniture commercials. Oh that is so MEAN but so TRUE, HA HA boing kerpow!

ps: I love Soundscapes and recommend them highly. Dey are de best. Even better dan a chest rub.



Monday, January 12, 2004

Ok, so here's a review from Rolling Stone, and a quick explanation of the storyline if you aren't familiar with it, and I wasn't. And I don't like to talk much more about a movie in case you haven't seen it. I think you should. I think so anyhow.

Big Fish. Personally, it's a fascinating, thought-provoking movie filled with over-the-tops subtleties that can lead you right to the edge of Why. Personally, it was one of the only movies I think I've ever seen that made me sweaty, concentrating trying not to cry, not to cry, must not cry. I'd be surprised if I ever didn't like a movie Tim Burton directed. And even though I have liked some of this movies better than others, his message is always the inspiring undying eclectic possibilities of positivity applied toward the mundane trials of realism, especially. For me, I need that. Plus, if you sprinkle in some freak show characters, and I do mean actual freak show people, that I can relate to and be mesmerized by for 126 minutes, then I'm hooked. But really, it's got to be done well, in the way that only Tim Burton and his entourage can do it.

"Big Fish" isn't the typical Tim Burton movie, as if any of his movies are ever typical. But it does show honesty, depth and odd, dream-like beauty you rarely see from anyone but Burton, it seems to me. For anyone who may not like this movie: Man, what can I say? Just remember, you'll wish for him one day, right after "Charlie's Angels 5". Yes, I predict that "Torque" will sadly out-perform "Big Fish" at the box office, but it will be for the same reason that "Don't try this at home" disclaimers have to be put on every dangerous-looking car commercial. It's because a lot of people are just plain dull. And average age of about 14, too, I guess.

My grandma always said "Remember, it takes much less creativity to show someone's head violently blown into bits than it does to show the universe of creativity inside some people's heads." No, she didn't say that, but she did actually laugh at one of my jokes once.

If you like happen to be fascinated with freak shows, and odds are if you are reading here more than once then you do, then I recommend "Geek Love" by Katherine Dunn. It's actually fairly dark but it's worth the few bright windows inside. She really can write a very interesting story.

And so can Daniel Wallace, author of "Big Fish", "Ray in Reverse" and "The Watermelon King" which I couldn't help myself and had to order three minutes ago. I'll let you know how it goes, because I need more more more.



Friday, January 09, 2004



Beebs picked the wrong day to miss work.

If you're reading, Beebs, well, there are some kittens down below us dressed in skintight leopard print 'tards. With fake fur, tails and ears. And high heeled wedgies. Right there in front of Smooth Moves where they have the "fresh sqeezed (sic) orange juice", Beebs. Beebs, you're missing it: Girls dressed as kittens with tight bodysuits crawling up their unmentionables, or is it their unspeakables, right there on the sidewalk below. That blonde one in the center is out there, Beebs. You oughta see her butt from here, Beebs.

You see, fur is wrong, Beebs. But buying fake tails, ears and bodysuits made by Chinese children working in sweatshops for a mere ten beatings a day is O.K.*

I'm just sayin'. You missed the wrong day to stay home and watch Springer, Beebs.






*I can't really say anything, except Thank You, China. If it weren't for you, I'd have to make my own clothes. And shoes. And PDAs. And Levi's. And everything. Except furs because furs do suck, unless you are an Eskimo. Because it's really cold there. Just lay off the kids... ok, China?**


**Another sweeping generalization brought to you by Labmonkie, the Generic Product of Her Own Enviroment, made in the US of A. Available in handy 8- and 16-oz. sizes, only at Wal-Mart. Please recycle.





"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth..."

Just see that you don't accidentally shoot someone's out with a ricochet paintball. You won't go to h-e-double hockey sticks IF you are hanging out with Team Fireproof Christian paintballers as they practice on a course in Toledo, Ohio. Despite skeptics (and normal people who don't shoot each other to make a point), the players are convinced that paintball is a unique opportunity to spread the Gospel. There are 86 members of the Ohio chapter of the Christian Paintball Players Association.

Part of me says if you have to shoot each other to spread the Word, you may want to check into Buddhism.

But the other part of me, the suppressed side that violently rages when woken like a sleeping giant says that maybe I can be member Number 87. Yes. And that side of me sees it very clearly...indeed. And lo, I can slowly take the flock down, one-by-one, to me and only me, Number One, The Favorite Daughter, God's Lil Sharp-Shooter, straight to heaven...


Sorry. Must be the new vitamins kicking in today.

Well, they are chocked full of Dong Quai, whatever that is. It's not the luxurious hairdo. My hairdryer broke and now I have a medium-sized afro. Someone suggested that maybe I "oughtta try brushing it". Then I said "Yes, and then maybe we could all shock each other around the office all day with the static electricity." Yes, Beebs, you really picked the wrong day to stay home (with a) sick('s pack).

Thursday, January 08, 2004



Brilliant.

I have a black dog and a white cat living with me. Pointless to say that the black dog goes for anything white, the white cat goes for anything black and they roll on it, independently. With this idea, now I don't have to kill* either one of them.

*What a relief because I can't kill anything but a mood.


Oh yes, and my hair is short and luxurious today. I told you I would update you. I didn't guarantee it'd be interesting.





Oy. Best cookies in existence that I am aware of to date, and Mrs. Fields lives here in Memphis now, so I'd know by proximity. The one I got is a Chocolate Chip Supreme Cookie. They aren't kidding. Besides the healthy, American-sized wasteful portion embodied in this fist-sized cookie, dare I say "teeth beware" -- it packs a whallop of Cookie Heaven? Heckyeah, I can be as punfilled as the next. I'm an avid reader of Self magazine and someone gets paid to write things like that; consider me a Product of My Environment. Creamy semi-sweet chocolate chips, gigantic Bavarian choco-chunks, melting milk chocolate and cruncy toffee bits. And it still tasted like cookie dough. You know what I mean: The best way to ruin cookie dough is to bake it. But this cookie? Well, I need to take a moment to weep, and order some more for Valentine's Day.

New Year's resolutions just melt away at the first bite of a stellar cookie, don't they? Good.



Arpeggio has gotten me all steamy for a new tea kettle. Okay, that one hurt me, too. I'll stop with the cheddar-flavored puns now. I swear. If I can. But here is my perfectly grand tea kettle. Except mine is not pig-colored like this one, brushed stainless instead, but it does sound like an arriving train with its HOHNER® harmonica two-tone whistle. Just ask the cats. They think it sounds more like a tornado warning siren. And that's a good feature, if Jackie is reading. Watching the cats stick to the kitchen ceiling always makes a good cup of tea even better. But now, here I am. I want this kettle. If it comes in red. And if it really doesn't attract children like it says. I am fresh out of cruelty-free children traps and would have to use the old wooden whacking broom instead.

I sound mildly violent today, don't I? Must be the luxurious new hairdo and American-sized sugar buzz.

Wednesday, January 07, 2004


Look at me: Generic and proud of it.

Thanks to Michael and his nifty new barcoding software.

Today has been a slow day, full of reflection. And I can't help wondering (dotdotdot)

Like why wasn't I born in Canada?

Why do some of the most socially disgusting trailor-mouthed tricky hoes have some of the longest, most luxurious hair on Jerry Springer? Is it true? Do they use Suave and not the more expensive salon variations?

How can Best Buy be allowed to sell me a car stereo for Christmas but not able to find a time to install it? Should I initiate my own campaign against Best Buy to change their name in the public's eye to "Best Buy-Worst Installation"? How much legal trouble would I get into if I heisted a cement truck and drove it through the front of the store, all the way to the back of the store where installation is, and then said "Oh, well I'll be damned. I didn't think anyone was even in here since no one ever answers the phones. Can I make an appointment now to get this stereo installed in my van? Or can I just blow all my fuses on you here and now without an appointment?" I had a small chili today from Wendy's. Could I blame the whole incident on Mad Cow Disease?

Who just screamed outside under my window? Was that a scream or joy, pain or both?

If Mad Cow Disease would've been discovered and named in America, would it have been "Crazy Cow" instead? How about "Springer Cow"? It's just about the same except 449 non-contaminated cows had to die, without the benefit of long, luxurious hair. (On Springer, at least two cows are always left standing. House rules, I think.)

Speaking of that, what is my hair doing? Why is it doing that. That, right there. That reminds me, I have to go get my hair cut now. I will let you know how it goes.

Monday, January 05, 2004



Oops, she did it again. Something unoriginal to get more media attention.

Oh, wait I forgot: Who cares? Hey Britney, we like Christina Aquee...Agyooo... the Trashy One better than you anyway. Sheerly because she is not you, and that's a good enough reason.

Sheerly is too a word now as far as I'm concerned.




So how is your New Year so far?

Mine is swell, thanks for asking. Not too many resolutions made or broken. The usual: Take more anti-oxidants from food and not just red wine. Walk more, lift arms up over head as not to lose all mobility and range of motion. Ah, I'm not that bad off. Yet. Take more epsom salt baths, read more books. Try not to curse and swear like a @#$% sailorman. Junk like that. Really, if I could just floss more and keep my Quicken updated, I think I'd be just fine for the rest of the year.




These mints are yes, dentist recommended, but weird weird weird flowery weird, but I'll be damned if I don't like 'em:
Green Tea Myntz.

Try them. And then give them another chance because they are weird but harmless. And the miniscule amount of green tea in them may actually be good for you. At least they aren't bad for you. Don't eat too many because then it just gets weird. And who's this recurring humanoid with the flattened Sonic the Hedgehog hairdo?





Oh, I think he may be the Mintz mascot/spokesfreaker. Well, he needs to go. Leave us with our flowery non-tooth decaying mints.

I'll bet the vanilla mints are tasty.

Life is good when you are sheerly simple and enamored by mints like I am. And maybe even Britney is sheerly simple when she's predictable and drunk in Vegas. Or maybe I'm just confusing her tolerance for alcohol and jokes as sheer. Maybe Michael. He's fairly sheerly simple, too.



Oh and I know this means hardly anything to anyone and not really even me, but if I was going to be executed and could request a last meal, it'd be sashimi and homemade, spicy Chex Mix. And then more homemade, spicy Chex Mix. And even more homemade, spicy Chex Mix until I choked and died, thus not only enjoying my very last favorite meal (excluding Papa John's thin crust pepperoni and banana pepper pizza), but also avoiding lethal injection altogether. Who could ask for anything better really.